Realization
Realization.
There is 'something' honest,
And truthful about its presentation.
Somehow...
All enclosures are sealed.
Exposed exits do not exists.
Escapes of all kinds are gone.
Devalued are right or wrong conceptions.
Mysteries are lifted.
Plans to use remnants of deceptions,
Have diminished in mental investments.
A reduced satisfaction to induce 'myths'...
Produce tears for some.
There is no where to run.
Or places to hide backbiting divisions.
Backstabbing wishes are missing.
Reasons for existing have many flustered.
Rehearsing bitterness,
Has lost its tit-for-tat power.
Realization has developed,
Both in and outside incisions...
To heighten consciousness.
Racists excuses have lost their use.
Relief for those grieving restricted comforts,
To return...
Exposes pretensions.
Traditions inflicting a separateness fades.
Blemishes and insecurities are bared.
We are all in the presence of realization.
Giving it our undivided attention!
Nappy, Straight, corn-rowed or dread heads...
With blond, brown or shades of eyes witnessing,
Find themselves up and beyond such pettiness!
A magnitude of 'supreme' intelligence embraces.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Sudden Realization
A realization came by
So sudden and abrupt
I imagined I could fly
And all emotions erupt
A realization made by the view
Of your radiant face
Only appreciated by a few
The face, the face that makes my heart pace
A realization so surreal
A realization so joyful
The realization that I feel,
'Twas so beautiful
Let us not make this realization
Come to naught
For all I have seen in this elation
Was all that's been in thought
A realization came by
So wonderful and joyous
From it, we shy
Let's not, but venture the word, "us"
poem by Leonardo David Tay
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The Evidence Is Obvious
It's time to leave them!
Those that can not be lead.
Those attached to barbaric beliefs...
And sealed to the hip.
Following behind blindly,
The madness of dead weight heads.
Who mock intelligence,
To induce fear, agony and dread!
They say, 'Nothing is near us.
We are kings/queens of the universe! '
But their restrictions limited by inflictions...
Can not see,
We have been monitored constantly!
'It' is already here!
That powerful force...
We are told does not appear.
With abilities beyond,
What we hold dear!
It's time to leave them!
Those that can not be lead.
Those attached to barbaric beliefs...
And sealed to the hip.
Following behind blindly,
The madness of dead weight heads.
Who mock intelligence,
To induce fear, agony and dread!
The evidence is obvious,
As we are told to ignore truth...
And concentrate on terrorists!
With the assistance of strategists,
Doing their best...
To manipulate what we see and digest!
Proving there is no death!
Perhaps a transference of indifference...
We shed!
To lift us to other dimensions instead!
People are seeing 'things'!
That can not be describe as white,
With blond hair!
Green or blue blood shot eyes!
Goodbye reality!
There are just too many holes...
In the ability to maintain,
A stability going down the drain!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Beating The Illusion
Making them real.
A sincerity at a attempt to heal.
A wounding by night.
Will bring upon the daylight
Eyes once closed become open.
A realization of those who have been chosen.
A relief in the knowledge bared.
It is finally over.
An illusion has been beaten with one final stare.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Out Of a Nothingness
Encouraged by a discouragement...
Seems to be the steps flights begin to take.
Like the discovery of a nothingness,
A non-entity ignored...
Sitting unexplored!
Until,
The realization that 'something' within it exists.
And a beginning one makes of it...
To create the break that forms its shape,
Taking place.
When one is told they are nothing...
Something 'clicks' within the mind.
And with that acknowledgement of a nothingness...
One embraces this to mold, shape and define!
Revealing a something out of a nothingness,
Where all of what 'is'...
Gets an assigned documented time of its find!
Showing a wealth of what is yet to be uncovered...
When possibilities like the life one knows,
Is given breath to breathe and eyes to probe...
A potential from a nothingness claimed,
To be named, linked and chained...
To all which had been suspended in space,
Before it too was exposed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Kept Number One
What makes no sense to you now...
Has never made sense ever!
It's just that the expense of your escapes,
Have been diminished.
Like the realization of your question...
Does race matter?
In a place where cowboys and indians,
Has laced the bottom of Christmas trees
With packaged toy guns.
Gift wrapped to delight the eyes,
To have little boys and girls...
Chasing each other to run...
With visions to win something won,
From each other for fun?
And has made race the number one issue,
Whether at work or entertaining minds...
To this very day?
Does race matter?
It may now make no sense to you!
However...
From the point of view of those,
Sold on greatness...
And how that greatness has been achieved?
You better believe...
Race matters to them,
Who wish to keep that dream alive...
And thirsting within every soul that thrives.
To do it by using race and weapons...
And the fear of losing 'interests' threatened,
By those enemies created...
Wishing to put a limitation to these dreams!
Of course race matters!
That's why the momentum of hate,
Has been kept number one in the marketplace!
So it seems.
Does race matter?
Aren't people living in scattered divisions?
Reminding themselves of ethnic and religious,
Superiorities?
And 'what' deity is 'supreme to all of these?
Where do you think all of this started?
In the land that professes equal opportunities!
And all for one and one for all!
But not for everyone!
Unless you're lucky enough to play...
Professional basketball!
Or football.
Or baseball!
And carry those kinds of 'balls'!
To entertain and please,
For those kinds of escaping games.
To bring such tensions to ease.
For purposes to boast...
Of championships and hoist trophies!
And that's why race matters!
Even though that concept...
Has left a mess unaddressed.
And treasured foundations undone,
To distress!
Does race matter?
Isn't that on the lips...
Of those in mental fits?
Check your history!
When did it not exist?
OR statistics kept and strategies!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Tree of Homing certainty
ironic representation is killing the deconstructive ability of laughters
Please keep a value of intellect on 3Rs
recognition, realization and revolution in innovating life
upside down the reality as the world is seemingly in the hole of seduction
surfing on the surface of recognition
going deep into the realization of trans-reality
breezing on the smooth surface of revolution
a tree of deconstructive construction touching moments on timings of life
recognition, realization and revolution are apples to be eaten by the force of grativy-oriented incidents
Dreams On Lay-Away
As soon as we eliminate the wars.
To enable us to restore our economic prosperity...
I will guarantee all of you,
Jobs to afford the realization of your dreams.
'Wasn't it just last week,
That same guy proposed an increase...
Of troops and weapons until we all witnessed,
A bonafide and unquestionable victory? '
~Hey...
That's the same guy who opposes,
What the other guy has been saying all along.~
'Who are we to believe? '
~Well...
Anyone who has previously stated,
That the automobile industry should go bankrupt.
And then promises to create 12 million jobs within 4 years,
If elected to lead with his vision of prosperity...
Is counting on an effective fantasy to feed,
Every mind he can still find attached...
To a recycling of their delusions.~
'And what does he exactly mean by saying...
'Jobs To Afford The Realization Of Your Dreams? ''
~That depends.
Does a 'realization' of dreams,
Put into 'reality' an effectiveness that is realized?
I know folks already with jobs,
Who can not put their dreams on lay-away.
Even if they tried to save.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Little Cat
My little cat nags me like a bad conscience
And I'm guilty of loving her too much,
She follows me around the house all day
Wanting to sit on my knee, and when I touch
Her she starts purring, as if to say
'Is it asking too much
That you should love me all the time
And give me your undivided attention?
Is that a crime? I am your mistress now,
You should pander to my every wish!
I want chicken every day and fish
And warm, clean blankets to lie on.
You've got to realise who rules this house,
You must confess
You love this servitude
And my cunning feline domination! '
That's what she says
And I have this realization
That perhaps I'm no more than a mouse
Running hither and thither
To please her and to give her satisfaction!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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My ideas about time all developed from the realization that if nothing were to change we could not say that time passes. Change is primary, time, if it exists at all, is something we deduce from it.
quote by Julian Barbour
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thank You For Ringing That Bell
You constantly would ask for my opinion.
And nothing that I have suggested,
Has stuck in your head like glue.
After years of discussing your insecurities...
I have one suggestion left,
I'd like to offer you.
Collect all of your excuses.
And reuse each one if you have to.
Your speeches of change,
And admitting this is true...
Makes no difference to me anymore,
What it is you do!
I've learned not to pay any attention to you at all.
And waking up to that realization,
Has taught me this lesson...
If someone can accept,
One's show of disrespect...
And not think that could be...
A possibility that leads,
To the beginning of one's downfall?
Stalling in hesitation creates the implementation.
And I thank you for ringing that bell.
Because I have finally awakened,
To answered the call.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fugitives
Of course there are those,
Who oppose sweeping changes.
Many of them accustomed,
To maintaining a snob appeal.
With a stunning realization,
Their tactics to hide flaws and character degradations...
Behind insecurities they decided,
Would be best to divide...
Those in groups,
They duped to choose to demoralize.
Has them on the run.
And not for sport or fun to be done.
Now the experience of the clearing of the field...
Yields their debris.
And produces screams...
'Where is the justice?
Where is 'our' democracy? '
ATTENTION. ATTENTION!
Now hear this...
~On the field of your endeavors!
That's where the yielding exposes your deeds.
And 'rights' to exploit without insight.
Your democracy has been sold, '
To those overseas.~
Of course there are those,
Who enjoyed being 'they' and 'them'.
And to be subjected,
To effective disrespect...
Without definite identities.
Pleasing many of them,
To just lay low as victims.
In minority blends,
And considered non-entities.
A status that leaves many quite pleased.
That declaration keeps them hidden,
From accountability.
With fears their incompetence,
Would someday have a visibility.
And accusations shared,
Would no longer be a necessity.
As an openness,
Would set them free.
A freedom not before conceived.
*We are now free?
Why? *
And divisions between those of pretensions,
And those oppressed by deceitful deeds.
Eventually becomes more apparent,
As to who has been enslaved.
By lifestyles generated in dishonesty.
And who accepted scaps,
As a shallowing done...
While feasting on superficial greed.
Of course there are those,
Who oppose sweeping changes.
Of course there are those,
Who enjoyed being 'they' and 'them.
Now all affected have been left,
With addictions that transfixed.
In traumatic depression.
And a fear of reality,
That attacks their fantasies.
Fantasies fed.
And...
In their minds sit fixed!
All affected have been left.
In traumatic depression.
And fears of reality.
As fantasies kept deluded,
Refuses truth...
In the mix.
Standards and values are being attacked.
As they sit fixed in minds denying...
They are suspects.
And they are...
Fugitives left clue and witless.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Birth, A Breath
A coincidence of motion
meets with the apparition of affection
to create, in one's heart
a fluttering of birth
(the birth of something molten
that flows downhill
and pounds in your ears) .
A whirlwind of stillness
(grasping for straws in silence)
.the mind reels
.the body aches
(and with realization comes hope-
and with realization comes)
continuation.
Time stops
for no man
but for new love
it holds its breath.
poem by Michael Ardizzone
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Where Is The Satisfaction One Gets
Where is the satisfaction one gets...
To play hide and seek,
With lost folks?
Or tell ethnic jokes,
To invoke laughter...
At the expense of someone's struggles?
None of this makes any sense to me!
If people are seriously seeking harmony.
And how about those with insecurities?
Those who believe they have birthrights...
To enforce and endorse a superiority.
Only to profess their dependency on others.
Without the Sun and Moon,
Would this Earth exist?
Without temptations to market,
Would there be conflicts?
Without resources sitting on 'third' world lands...
Pillaged by those who live to make demands.
Where would they be without nature to feed them?
To hoard and isolate with treasures to pleasure...
While declaring a stolen standard of life,
As one sought after...
Because it is grand?
And measured against others,
Suppressed by their druthers!
To protect with weapons!
And deplete upon command!
Where is the satisfaction one gets...
To play hide and seek,
With lost folks?
Or tell ethnic jokes,
To invoke laughter...
At the expense of someone's struggles?
I think about this,
And the pitifulness of those thoughtless...
Who wish now to see themselves deprived.
While others they have stripped,
Are left in hunger and homelessness...
To do the best they can to survive!
None of this makes any sense to me!
If people are seriously seeking harmony.
And I wonder where humanity could be...
If folks did not nurture themselves,
To contrive in secret with priorities...
For the sole purpose,
To deceive, cheat and lie!
I think about this,
And the pitifulness of those thoughtless...
Who wish now to see themselves deprived.
While others they have stripped,
Are left in hunger and homelessness...
To do the best they can to survive!
And what will become of humanity...
When a higher consciousness arrives?
And all eyes are opened to realize,
Their falsely kept traditions...
Restricted to pointless conflicts,
Have finally come to an end and died!
Where is the satisfaction one gets...
Once it is revealed,
There IS a higher consciousness.
Soon to amend all foolishness!
With a lifting of those minds confined,
In a darkness from them removed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Talking To Themselves
There is not a day that goes by,
I find myself lost for words to say.
But as each day does go by...
I realize very few are paying attention,
Whether they are in conversation or not.
And I have also noticed,
Those who are giving their undivided attention...
Are often talking to themselves.
'Well...
At least there is 'someone' captivated,
By what is being said.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Chosen Sensations Wished
It is a relief,
To be cut free from accusations.
Or to feel the one despised,
By those unaccustomed to truth.
And leaving that blindside ignored,
To produce preferred fantasies.
It is much easier to observe,
Those who now recognize their own delusions.
With the realization any victimization,
Had been tunneled visioned.
And numbed by chosen sensations wished,
In comforting self inflicted temptations desired.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Contagious Ambitions
Defying the presence of what is that gives.
Sacrificing the path that leads to light.
Even though the brightness of it...
Will not accept any deceptions.
Or excuses as exceptions!
The spread of contagious ambitions are witnessed.
The conditions insisted by those superstitious...
Amuse.
To lift the consciousness from limits existing...
Brings a peace of mind to those unwinding,
From times that kept their egos sitting wishful thinking!
There is no rush to crush those in indecision!
And evaluation done comes to stun!
With an awakening that clarifies...
The arrival of a mental evolution on the rise.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Imaginative Power Of Creativity
There eureka
exists
an imaginative
power
beyond present
scientifically
defined charted
conception;
linking intuition
supposed
all knowing
instant realization
through faintly
aware grasping
continually
aspiring humanity.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Destiny Of Life
Inspiration leads to the destiny of life,
Through respiration the aspiration is filled.
Preparation along with inspiration
Aspires the destination of life.
The destination is inspiration
And the inspiration is the
Gateway to instant activation
And future realization
Is present satisfaction
And past perspiration.
Therefore the past and present
Leads the man to future destination.
Self motivation is self activation
And self determination is strong
Actualization.
All things lead to destiny
And the unknown destiny
Is a predetermined destiny
Which comes to realization,
When you come to know that
You have reached your destination.
poem by Rajesh Kumar Vaishnaw
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Is Capitalism Dead?
Is capitalism dead?
For those keeping candlelight vigils...
In hopes of a miracle.
A team of resuscitators,
Are currently in the process...
To socialize the outcome.
In the event the announcement,
Of its demise traumaticizes.
With plans to introduce,
A smooth transition of priorities.
However...
A shipment of candles,
Is expected soon.
It seems they wish not to disappoint those,
Accustomed to traditions.
Those they wish to remain as practiced.
With the realization that these acts,
Are more effective if faithfully kept intact!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Forgiveness (Realization)
forgiveness is the energy
of realization...
realizing, the person you're
mad at or hurt by is just an
extension of yourself, another
part of you. realizing, the act
they've committed against you
is just a human act, whether
done on purpose, or without
thinking... realizing, that you
commit similar acts in your day
to day existence...
realizing, not forgiving, holding
on to the anger and pain, only
hurts you yourself! it becomes a
form of prison, self-imposed...
realizing, the mistake is not the
person!
forgiveness, the realization of
freedom in relationships!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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