Preferred As Protective Devices
In unfortunate ways these days,
People are allowed to betray themselves.
And with validation...
From those they declare as friends.
With a shallowness sought and received from them.
Today few have close friends.
Too many are accustomed to dishonesty.
And truth is disbelieved.
Even some find the mention of it offends.
Delusions are preferred as protective devices.
And when visions becomes blurred,
People seek actively deception as advice.
Only to complain to others what they've heard...
About their depressed and troubled lives.
Leaving that wide of a gap in their minds.
And finding it convenient to wallow away in grief.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Gifts In Their Lives
People who tell it like it is,
To those fortunate with patience to listen.
Know they are blessed to have people like this,
As gifts...
In their lives.
And those who run and hide defying,
In complaints to others...
Criticize and despise what to them has been told.
With a crying to sigh on accustomed shoulders to hold.
Many one day will wish,
People who tell it like it is...
Would be more in numbers in their midst.
And had been given their respect.
Without a quickened dismissing them to exist.
'What has happened to those people,
Who were not afraid to speak the truth?
All we have around us now,
Are those deceiving with corruption to pursue.'
~That's not difficult to answer at all.
When was the last time you allowed your delusions,
To sit with a willingness to chat with truth? ~
'well...
I...er...'
~And while you search your mind for a response.
Who did you call to convince,
Your feelings were hurt deliberately?
And this was an intention that was meant.
That brought a pouting to your lips,
Eternally.~
'Well...
I didn't like what was said and how it was said to me.'
~But deceptions you've embraced as your close friends.
And I am sure you have been feeling a comfort you condone.
With a protective excusing wall of defense.~
'Well...
I...er,
You don't know me to say what it is I do.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Understood To Exclude Them From Truths
When one gets too accustomed,
To embellishing what they've done...
Partial truths are told.
To bestow as shown to everyone.
Quick to betray,
If their insecurities are threatened.
But yet to display,
Are their excuses made with few exceptions.
Associations with people like this,
Over time decreases in respect.
Explanations of their neglect...
Eventually from them some should expect.
When one gets too accustomed,
To embellishing what they've done...
Partial truths are told.
To bestow as shown to everyone.
Maturity is dismissed,
In the minds of people with this addiction.
And it is unfortunate they allow themselves...
To be chased away by delusions.
With a praying done their delusions will stay,
To be understood to exclude them...
From truths they painfully detest.
And hate to face from day to day.
As a life lived in reality eventually fades.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Of Those Who Do Speak The Truth
The amazing and wonderful thing about truth,
And its use is this...
Those familiar and accustomed with the telling of it,
Are often the ones disbelieved.
Very few are open and direct like that.
To leave those dishonest suspicious.
And the ones looking for dirt to uncover,
Of those who do speak the truth...
Find themselves digging deeper holes,
To expose their own deceits and ways they've cheated...
They can not climb out of the mud and slime they've created,
To enable those observing them...
Complaining as they confess of committing their own sins.
Even in the pouring rain people like this smell.
'Excuse me...
What is that you're wearing?
I've notice the people here,
Have picked that as their favorite scent.
What is it? '
~Stench.~
The amazing and wonderful thing about truth,
And its use is this...
Those familiar and accustomed with the telling of it,
Are often the ones disbelieved.
And yet...
Those who are honest with themselves,
Have no problem revealing their own dirt first.
And if you do know anyone who does speak with truth,
Do you ever think of them as being negative?
Many do.
And why is that?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Friends
In our childhoods days
Together we would play
People said we were inseparable
Like a brother then
My protective friend
He would always take good care of me
Friends thats what we are just
Friends no more or less oh
Here we are sharing so much fun
Friends why cant he see that I want him
To be more than my friend
Years have come and gone
Still our friendships strong
Now hes more than just the boy next door
Im in love with him
Guess Ive always been
He doesnt know hes all Im living for
Friends thats all we are just
Friends so near yet so far from love
And oh the joy that he can bring
Friends why cant he see that I want him
To be more than my friend
Id like to tell him that I need him bad
But Im afraid if I do I might lose
The only friend that I have
Friends thats all we are just
Friends so near yet so far from love and thus
Well always remain friends
Friends why cant he see that I want us
To be more than just friends
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Get Worked
This is happening this here is life
Days spent pondering truth is a knife
Respect due to those who have caught it
Dedicated to our friends who have sought it
This is happening this here is life
Days spent pondering truth is a knife
Respect due to those who have caught it
Dedicated to our friends who have sought it
Brainstorm superseding the norm
When we come together new planet is born
You revel in the chaos when people are torn
Then you come to find out your welcome is worn
We are advancing and retracting visionaries
Really here it's not imaginary
The way you work your mind you find it's an art
Where you feel it most you feel in your heart
Everybody gets confused
Delusions are everywhere
Buy into fakeness you'll feel used
Double talk fills the air
Looking all over for happiness
I've got the will to live
It's in front of you right now
song performed by by 311 from From Chaos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Threats To Keep A People In Grief
How can we seek solutions...
When our denials love to bask,
In a pleasing done by deceit.
How can we non-fictionalize our lives,
When fiction is all we seek.
How can we ever expect to accept the truth,
When none of it is believed.
And how is a greatness once perceived,
So willing to feed decadence...
And allow conflict and division succeed.
All of these may be questions!
But the opportunity to answer them,
Become threats to keep a people in grief.
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Minds of Those Like These
The escalation of a hatred,
By those accustomed to doing it...
Produces for them great sorrow.
And on borrowed time,
They proceed to show themselves...
Out of their minds with a choice to grieve.
Incredible.
Incredible...
Wh at people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.
Self seekers enforcing to impose their will,
For the purpose to fulfill...
The prophesy of their demise.
So unwise are they who do not pay attention.
So unwise are they who do not listen!
As they forge ahead,
In disbelief of what has been 'envisioned'.
Or comprehend words to them said.
As they forge ahead,
Strickened by positions...
That restrict their minds to limited conditions.
Incredible.
Incredible...What people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.
The escalation of a hatred,
By those accustomed to doing it...
Produces for them great sorrow.
And no tomorrows come to those,
Making attempts to dethrone and dispose...
Of truth and the existence of it,
Because they refuse to 'see'.
Instead of reacting emotionally,
To rapid revelations.
Programmed and delivered by the 'Deities'.
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know..
And find it,
Hard to believe.
And,
Incredible.
Incredible...
What people know.
What people know...
And find it,
Hard to conceive.
It is hard to believe,
How people live and they deceive!
It is hard to believe people who seek no remedy.
Incredible.
Incredible...
The minds of those like these.
Incredible.
Incredible...
The minds of those like these.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Their Closest Relatives
People hypnotized and transfixed,
Have grown more accustomed
To their movie productions.
And those creative emotional TV shows.
So accustomed to myths,
People are.
And the praying to what is believed,
To what has been embedded
In their minds,
Exists.
People do not wish to be told,
About the thought process of Nature.
And how that goes.
Or about Earth and Mother Nature.
The relationship between them.
How that works and what they know.
People wish and desire to accept,
They are more powerful
Than that which 'allowed' them life,
And gave to them breath.
People reject with a dismissing of this,
That which gifted them and permitted their lives.
People have grown more accustomed,
To their movie productions.
And those creative emotional TV shows.
Yet,
Give zero respect to their closest relatives.
The Sun, The Moon
And how together,
They affect their lives lived here on Earth.
People have chosen to become accustomed,
To ignoring as if they do not hear or listen.
Or are aware of them with comprehension.
People choose not to accept this as is.
People choose to believe from that which exist,
They are not born from it.
People choose for themselves to believe,
For them
There is no connection to perceive.
Even though what is they can not conceive,
Flows through their veins and bleeds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Address As A Valued Standard Formality
People do not want to hear the truth.
Not as it is apply to the activity of reality.
Nor do they want to take time to listen...
With a patience to comprehend,
Anything mentioned to them...
That may be detrimental to their lives.
And with a quickness they find ways,
To fantasize.
However...
A complaining without an end to this,
Many will do...
After learning they have been deceived.
And these very same people,
Do their best to impress with pretensions.
To address as a valued standard formality.
They don't call this deception.
This is preferred to be called social etiquette.
Intermixing with others also associated,
With the giving of false appearances.
As a feeding of nonsense fed is shared between them.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Slipping of Meet Notes
Accustomed to lies.
What does the truth really mean?
Accustomed to lies laying low on the scene!
Accustomed to tell them...
And protect when told.
Accustomed to lies,
Whether fresh released or old held on hold!
Accustomed to lies...
Without a bat of an eyelash moving!
Accustomed to lies.
Dishonesty is accepted and shown.
At the work place
Where the slipping of meet notes,
Does not provoke disdain.
Accustomed to lies...
And that's how our lives remain!
In heated sex away from home!
Regardless of who spies on another,
Both buffer their suffering by what's condoned.
Accustomed to lies...
And what is taught is always known!
Accustomed to lies.
Accustomed to holding on to them,
Until time flys!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Amazing Those Possibilities Uncovered
How do I deal with my issues?
Head on.
That's easy for me.
And cost effective.
Than to pretend my life is free...
Of obstacles.
In some sort of protective net.
Hidden as if I can be selective.
As if my life is free of taking risks.
Only to expose those 'risks' taken,
As if they are preferred friends.
Later to discover I had been dismissed.
To start a long journey all over again.
And I've never been close to deception.
I've learned to inspect every step I take.
To reveal to myself what is real and what is fake.
Nor do I live with delusions.
I use to welcome them with a wish to want more.
But I've found that too high of a price to pay.
And today...
Seeing things as they are,
Has shorten my need...
To make long acceptance speeches.
With impressions of my abilities.
Eyes would widen in disbelief.
And,
Since I do not receive those invitations anymore...
No one has a clue or an idea,
How much that has been a relief.
And none of that did I had to beg or borrow.
Or seek approval from anyone,
To choose my own atmosphere...
With fresh air to deeply breathe.
Acknowledging the significance of the Sun.
It is amazing what dealing with one's own issues,
Can bring.
It is amazing those possibilities uncovered one sees,
In the welcoming that restores a mind set free.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without Exception
You wanna get close,
So you can set me up?
Well don't do it.
I've been through it.
So don't do it.
You wanna pretend,
We're friends until the very end...
Well don't don't it.
I've been through it.
So don't do it.
You see...
My eyes are open so wide,
They can see...
A deception!
Without exception.
And...
I am not that blind,
Not to see you from behind...
With a deception!
You're no exception.
You wanna play games,
To entertain then frame...
Well,
Don't do it.
I've been through it.
So don't do it.
You see...
My eyes are open so wide,
They can see...
A deception!
Without exception.
And...
I am not that blind,
Not to see you from behind...
With a deception!
You are no exception,
To accept.
You wanna get close,
So you can set me up?
Well don't do it.
I've been through it.
So don't do it.
There's nothing to prove.
You wanna pretend,
We're friends until the very end...
Well don't don't it.
I've been through it.
So don't do it.
You see...
My eyes are open so wide,
They can see...
A deception!
Without exception.
My eyes can see,
A deception!
Without exception.
My eyes can see,
A deception!
Without exception.
Listen to me.
My eyes can see,
A deception!
There's no exception.
Listen to me.
My eyes can see,
A deception!
There's no exception.
My eyes can see,
A deception!
Without exception.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Beating Of The Bush
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I have this 'thing' about honest and truth.
And those who become offended,
By declaring them too harsh to accept!
There has not been an experience I received,
I regretted with a wish to forget!
And those attempting to live their lives,
In pretense to deceive believing this is not deception...
Will always escape with excuses and alibis to make.
Charading as if...
No one recognizes,
Who is in masquerade.
And who amongst them fakes!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
An honesty and truth spoken,
From deceivers is rare.
Those who deceive perceive...
Those who are direct and honest,
Are insensitive and do not care!
With a sharing of this mentality...
To those empathetic,
In a keeping of delusions...
Spared from despair!
But I know I'm not the only one...
Who elects to see,
Dishonesty from all people get up and leave.
I can't be!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Options of Deceit
I would find truth offensive too...
If I had not allowed myself a break,
From my delusions.
And what I discovered about truth...
Had me dilute those delusions,
Until I was able to let them go completely.
I did not know truth and honesty...
Were not options of deceit?
Did you?
I believed deceit was used,
To protect those afraid to be too honest.
And I had heard that truth hurts.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Seek Me Much Deeper People
You've got to seek Me,
Within yourselves...
Deep,
People.
Beneath that shallowness,
You wish to keep...
Hidden and discreet!
You've got to seek Me,
Much deeper...
People.
If you wish to receive,
A clarity that's reaped.
One I can give.
To fulfill your needs.
You've got to open wide those squinting eyes.
To enable Me to recognize...
Those proclaiming to have God inside,
Of them residing.
You've got to open wide,
Those half shut eyes.
With a removal of those layers,
Deceiving yourselves...
As if kept as a prize.
I am often surprised and bewildered 'Why'?
You've got to seek Me,
Much deeper...
People.
If you wish to receive,
A clarity that's reaped.
One I can give.
To fulfill your needs.
You've got to seek Me,
Within yourselves...
Deep,
People.
Beneath that shallowness,
You wish to keep...
Hidden and discreet!
You've got to,
Keep your faith and just believe.
With that God side residing inside.
Stay away from fantasies.
With a keeping of those eyes,
Fixed on Me!
Keep your faith and just believe.
With that God side residing inside.
With a keeping of those eyes,
Fixed on Me!
People.
You've got to seek Me,
Within yourselves...
Deep,
People.
Beneath that shallowness,
You wish to keep...
Hidden and discreet!
You've got to seek Me,
Much deeper...
People.
If you wish to receive,
A clarity that's reaped.
One I can give.
To fulfill your needs.
'Who is it that you seek and repeat those words? '
Him or Her...
The Omnipresent,
The All Knowing!
Who's blessings surround us,
With a showing.
'OH?
And what religion does He or Her,
Represent? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Embellish A Nonexistence Has Adverse Effects
Ego fed insecurities,
Addicted to seeking acceptance...
Are protective of their delusions.
And easily offended,
By a truth that is to them directed.
It is more important for them to impress,
Than to honestly address their own issues.
Something blocked in their minds,
Will not allow them to do this.
And quick they are to misinterpret reality.
They believe reality is something to twist to fit,
A determined wish to see,
Life from their prespective.
And only a life lived to experience as is,
Can be received to accept to adjust...
Not correct to reject what is presented!
Ego fed insecurities,
Addicted to seeking acceptance...
Are protective of their delusions.
And easily offended,
By a truth that is to them directed.
To embellish a nonexistence,
Has adverse effects.
And adverse effects are difficult to keep,
From being exposed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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June 13 2008
After a while your friends stop being your friends, or people you like and hang out with
they just become people you want to see succeed, people you wish well
because you don't know if you'll succeed and you don't know when you'll see them again
most people you hate, you loathe- or you are disinterested towards
your casual acquaintances are the people you end up spending the most time with
and the people that were your close friends become memories
people who have moved on but that you wish well
poem by J.M Berger
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My School Days
Now-a-days where is that cheer,
unless i call up friends to have a beer,
Just like mist gone we are apart in many ways,
But where are my School days.
Now-a-days where is that enthusiasm,
for i bump into people with only sarcasm,
we sail world over on a ship,
unsuccessful even to strike a good friendship,
We have indeed drifted in many ways,
But where are my School days.
Now-a-days where is that laughter,
I hear just laughs to flatter,
true friends were those who where just there,
to say 'Hey we really care'
Scattered are we in many ways,
But where are my School days.
We are born with faces,
and now with a 'book',
we are now connected in many ways,
Where i come to cherish my School days.
poem by Deepak Calyampoondi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those Doors Of Those Candy Stores Are Closed
Gone to distance are those days,
Allowed for some people...
To insult the ones,
Of charitable ways.
Gone also...
Is that catering done,
To those with childishness displayed...
With a thoughtlessness exposed,
Publicly in front of everyone.
And packed and gone,
Are roommates who debate...
Their selfishness in stale relationships.
Those who have arrived,
To prize their maturity...
Are not putting up,
With any of this nonsense.
Because,
Number one...
No one has to.
Not me or those selected few who choose.
And...
Number two?
That will be done in the bathroom.
Not all over the place.
Or,
Accepted to be thrown in one's face!
Today?
Not too many people are tolerating,
'Stuff'...
That comes to deliberately,
Stink up...
Their choice to live quiet and peaceful lives.
Gone to distance,
Are those days...
Allowed for some people,
To insult the ones...
Of charitable ways!
Those doors of those candy stores are closed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Until It Is Seen
Since they don't think of themselves,
As great.
Their activities produce...
Far less than great things.
What's in the mind,
People will find around them!
You know...
Seek to find,
For validation!
I grew up around some 'Dare to Be Brilliant People'.
All we had was our minds.
And early acquaintances with a can opener!
We were challenged then to use our minds...
And look our best!
These were in schools,
Before the 'Let's Move Away From 'Them' Those Negros'...
Days.
I remember too well,
When they were implemented.
Like the beginning of the ending of something.
You know...
It's like the feeling one gets,
When someone else does something stupid.
And you want to reach out...
But the 'I'm Better Than You' look is given!
So one backs off,
And does their own thing.
One backs off,
And observes the mistakes occurring.
One backs way off...
When insults begin to be thrown!
And this is condoned by the environment!
And backed by government policies.
Introduced to protect the greed of thieves.
Since they don't think of themselves,
As great.
Not face to face.
Their activities produce...
Far less than great things.
What's in the mind,
People will find around them.
To distort their existence.
With an enhanced ignorance.
Like devastation one creates.
And choosing to describe it...
In a way that it does not affect,
A reflection of their insecurities.
And wishing they could move away from them...
Like something they find disgusting!
To invent their own demise.
One accepted as more trusting.
And one that can be disguised.
But those with early acquaintances,
With a can opener...
Had been 'conditioned' to observe these events,
From distances.
And with opened eyes.
In a rejected effectiveness!
That begins to disturb.
And peel slowly away,
To expose and pain the nerves.
Of those who choose their conflicts,
To battle on fields no longer appealing.
Comes back to affect those now desperate.
Those expressing a social and mental,
Defectiveness!
And banning together to protest...
Their 'upsetness' in regret!
And in a massive state of denial.
But these days 'from' them,
They can not push away.
Like visions on a TV set!
They can turn off and go play!
Today those 'visions' are there,
To show them how they came.
And how they got that way.
And an ugliness prepares to come to sit.
And visit!
Until it is seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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