Riddled With Defects
If all cults weren't divisions,
Of existing religious beliefs...
Why are just a few,
Considered illegitimate?
When every one of them,
Is a creation of someone's imagination...
Sold to sell with a telling that is bought.
And a fighting done amongst themselves,
That has nothing to do with the presence of God...
Claimed to be in their lives.
As contradictions and hypocrisy thrives.
Do we exist as images of GOD?
Or...
Have we been created to immulate the image?
Either way,
The process seems to be riddled with defects.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Dark Cloud
You exist only in your light that you created. And here the sound of your sadness cry aloud in your dark space, the shadows of witch you bare witness are people like images of the pain that exist on thee inside of you, and there you smile at thee image and call it a her, and when you get a clear view it's really images of your hurt.
poem by Clarence Williams
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Bought And Sold
Bought and sold.
Bought,
And sold.
Bought and sold...
As if no feelings I keep.
But deep inside I'm touched.
Nothing here is cheaply rushed.
Bought and sold...
On what to me has been told.
Not me I'm not of mush.
Nor easily crushed to dust.
Excesses on the cheapness of life,
Has made a weakness increase...
And,
Bought and sold.
Bought,
And sold.
Bought and sold.
Too many given anything.
Just to say they've gotten a piece,
To be...
Bought and sold.
Bought and sold...
On what to me has been told.
Not me I'm not of mush.
Nor easily crushed to dust.
Bought and sold...
As if no feelings I keep.
But deep inside I'm touched.
Nothing here is cheaply rushed.
Too many people take for granted and accept too easily.
To be sold,
On what they're told.
Too many people take for granted and accept too easily.
Bought and sold,
On what they're told.
Too many people take for granted and accept too easily.
To be sold,
On what they're told.
Bought and sold,
On what they're told.
Just...
To sell.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sold
The ground and foundations.
Temptations solicted from staid traditions.
Beliefs...
And those who held them.
Sold for profit.
And nothing had stopped it!
Values and standards.
Smokescreening hoodwinkers...
And bribes from crooks,
Who stole like bandits.
Liars who used deceit to hide.
Sold...
Like pieces of meat!
Diced and spliced...
In divisions before eaten.
Beholding their boldness.
And unfolding a way of life cheapened.
But...
Never would they conceive,
All of their degradations...
And treasures,
Spoken and told...
Would be sold!
To the first who offered a bid!
For a desperate situation...
Seeking a quick way to sell a mess,
To rid!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Images Presented
The image that's presented,
Determines how impressive...
Those pretentious rush to protect.
And the image that's presented,
Has less to do with intellect.
Or competence and its effect,
Upon those expecting...
Much more than an image projected to accept.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented,
Do not feed!
Those images presented,
No one needs now!
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fighting To Struggle Against The Grain
We all must come to learn,
We will and can make adjustments.
And not perceive ourselves,
As incredible creations incapable of listening.
Especially to messages delivered to us,
By those we deem unqualified...
And not having established credentials to bring them.
There is a reason why,
We can all identify the hearing of birds chirping.
There is a reason why,
We can all smell the scents...
From different flowers that bloom.
There is a reason why,
The Sun is where it is...
With a moon orbiting a spinning Earth.
Sitting where it is to benefit from this.
There are reasons why these 'mysteries' applied,
Before our eyes...
Remain as they are to be specific.
And 'if' anyone believes they are NOT here existing,
As a result of this...
To do as they wish with another agenda on their list,
Well...
They will follow anything to believe,
That the doing what they please has been ordained.
Like many who are caught up,
Fighting to struggle against the grain.
Even when the rain has come to fall to leave,
Nothing survives without its nourishment.
Regardless of implementing divisions and religious beliefs.
Even when the rain has come to fall to leave,
Nothing survives without it falling down from the sky.
Why?
Because everything we are,
Plays a part in being a piece of the whole.
And...
Fighting to struggle against the grain,
Is not going to change it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Named And Stamped With A Brand
Limited interpretations,
Appeal only to those who are appeased.
And kept they are to view their lives,
Manifested to accept that which symbolizes images.
And what for them an image represents.
With a keeping of images limited to interpretation.
And if a depiction in their minds can not be defined,
It is dismissed as worthless.
Until a place for it is found to be labelled,
As an entity to be named and stamped with a brand.
To then be sold as a needed commodity.
With a familiar repeating done of subliminal marketing.
'Whew! What a relief.
We thought we had to accept it as is.
Having its own separate identity.
And that would be too mind altering,
For the limits we have set for our beliefs.
And right now we can not afford expansion.
It's difficult enough as it is to maintain 'some' control.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is My Preference That Has Changed
You've adopted images created,
To become your beliefs.
Even love you claimed for me,
Was conditional.
And now the functions of your conditions,
Increasingly appear to be dysfunctional.
To make my 'nonacceptance'...
Tastefully more appealing than ever.
Well...
Let me say this to you,
I was never into champagne.
And you made it quite clear,
You would never drink beer.
And even if you did...
You couldn't afford me or it.
Not now.
It is my preference that has changed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Accepting To Protect False Beliefs
The telling of lies told and sold,
To deny in a hiding of one's insecurities...
Does not prevent,
An increasing mental instability...
As witnessed by those,
Not only experiencing buyer's remorse...
But shows the ones who have lied,
Responsible for much that has gone...
Misunderstood most of their lives,
While fighting against denials.
And today...
There is no way of escaping,
With a possibility on either side of truth...
To correct relationships destroyed to redo,
By accepting to protect false beliefs as done.
Or can fix to mend anyone's heart broken,
Of those victimized who have forgiven.
Since they will never be able to erase in time,
From their minds...
The effects of what has happened to them.
Accepting to protect,
False beliefs...
Doesn't shadow,
A truth that's known.
Accepting to protect,
False beliefs...
Doesn't shadow,
A truth that's known.
Accepting to protect,
False beliefs...
Doesn't shadow,
A truth that's known...
To keep those from being aware,
With a clearing of polluted air.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A New Creation
You could have seen me before
With all sheer ugliness of soul
Such deep anger boiled from my core
Until the day God made me whole.
My very presence made people leave
As if they sensed a deep repulsion
An image warped, until I believed
Man was not like this at Creation.
For in His image God made man
But evil Sin had marred that beauty
And now I have come to understand
That through the Cross, God forgave me.
The Sacrifice of His Only Son
Made the Way for Grace to be given
Not righteous things that I have done
But by His Mercy I was forgiven.
Bought with a Price, that is ME.
He took all my anger, guilt and shame
Nailed them on the Cross at Calvary
I'm a new creation, called by His name.
'Therefore, if anyone is in Christ,
he is new creation; the old has gone, the new has come.'
(II Corinthians 5: 17)
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Very Few Options Left
Say whatever you like
But those fantasized all their lives
Have very few options left
To live their lives without the presence of reality
Consider it an invasion
A process there but choosing not to see
These are the people we should all fear
They actually believe 'life' is their creation
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lost In Image-II
He elocuted speeches.
He himself did not write.
But he had persona.
And stage presence.
The best representation,
Of a manufactured image.
And not seen since,
In their eyesight.
And it has been more than twenty years...
He made any appearances,
Of a questionable leadership.
Made to give a lasting impression.
Greater now than ever,
After his death.
And this very day...
People with this addiction ask themselves,
'What would 'he' do?
What would 'he' say? '
And even though he has long passed away...
There are those doing the best they can,
Trying to recreate his comments made.
Since they...
Are lost,
In his image!
And images sustains their beliefs,
Too!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Religious War
Religious war has been fought by rare person
person fighting for religion is ever winner
only the person took the help of weapons
are defeated, History is witness in weapon war
only the powerful weapons are winner, but
that can not be termed as Religious War
Weapon War is always blind but religious war
is always full of love and peace.
Weapon war is the matter of ego
Religious war is the matter of consciousness
Weapon war sheds blood but Religious War
It sheds love and affection
A person fighting for Religious War has to be
martyr some time but he becomes the reason
to be worshiped for ever
Weapon war spreads chaos and terrorism
Religious War spreads prosperity
Weapon war knows to split the society
Religious War knows to unite the society
Weapon war knows to enslave the human being
Religious War knows to make him free
from all kinds of slavery
Weapon war pushes us back to barbaric age
Religious war pulls us forward to civilized age.
Weapon war ends with destruction
Religious war ends with creation
Religion is the law of nature
which prevails all to be survived
poem by Ramesh Rai
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Give Me Image
Enough!
Enough of this...
Self righteous ambiguity!
Fed by those seeking consciousness.
Give me image.
I have yet to have enough,
Of this 'truth-as-I-see-it-life-I-live'.'.
Give me image.
How else can it be expected,
I keep my pretensions alive and thriving?
Do not rid from me my freedom,
To exist living for images I see fit to project.
I can not bare the acceptance of the reality...
Thrown in my face I am suppose to respect!
Give me image!
Do not strip me of my need,
To seek quality delusions to please, eat and feed.
Give me image.
So that I may feel free,
To live in the midst of unending fantasies.
And aspects of threatening truth...
Disturbs my mentality!
As I witness it pursue the awakening of masses.
Pass me my rose colored glasses, please!
Enough!
Enough of this...
Self righteous ambiguity!
Give me image.
I have yet to have enough,
Of this 'truth-as-I-see-it-life-I-live'.'.
Give me image.
Let those images forever in my mind,
Find within me reason to exist!
Give me image.
And enough...
Enough of this,
Self righteous ambiguity.
Fed by those seeking consciousness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A special child is a special One
thank you for giving me the light in this world...... when
you shared to me the life, that the Lord bestowed and
blessed, you deserve that gift, to have a special one
thank you for the fruit of love..... your lives fulfill the
purpose of creation, your unending steadfast care lifts
me up to survive, amidst the uncertainty of life
thank you for being there..... when I needed you most,
you are always in my side, pushing me to face all
adversity, though I exist with no fear in my heart
thank you that you let me taste and experience..... what
is life with you, our memories always linger in my heart,
even though that meaningful happiness is off valued and
something special to me
thank you dear someone..... your presence is giving
me the strength to stay alive, this is the life I live, my world
is different from you, and I have to stay in order to live and
survive
thank you for accepting and letting me go..... beyond your
limit for you don't know where I will go, this dream that I
take is only, me can reach, a place where nobody knows
thank you for helping and making me to achieve, with my
own volition to know more of myself..... hoping the best of
everything on me, and believing that I might see the
meaning of my existence for the destiny I made is the
destiny I live.....this maybe the end of why, I am living in
this world with you dear someone
thank you that in my journey in this life..... you are with me
surfing every pieces of puzzle of who am I in this creation,
a creation that everyone is free, a creation that I am a part
and I exist, a destiny to move on and a place I live today
thank you..... for believing me even in your heart, thou you
didn't see what........ I believed, just always remember that
the life I share in every moment I've take. lives with you
forever and it is beyond your own imagination for the
world I live..... lives.....only in every man's heart that is free
' do not see them as how they think and look, but see
them as what you feel '
poem by Antonio Liao
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Fill The Void...
we attempt
to fill the void left
when the self
leaves the soul,
with stone images
of a god we've created
out of iced over fears...
created in the image
of our own darkness.
a god that rains down
fire and brimstone
by our hidden whims.
a god that looks like us,
that acts like us,
and despises all else.
a prophylactic thrust
of eternity,
eternity sold on street corners...
and all the while
the stranger waits quietly
just outside the door.
his breath familiar,
his face everyman's,
his actions,
simple compassion.
his name, forgiveness!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Divisions They Have Created
Observing those taking offense,
Against policies and initiatives they implemented...
Is like listening to someone complain,
About the price of cigarettes and gasoline...
While waiting in line to purchase them at any cost.
People have grown accustomed to debating themselves.
As if those overhearing them,
Become attracted to the redundance of the limited topics.
Divisions they have created,
Have outdated realities.
They refer to the 'others' as those on the 'left'.
And yet,
They are 'right'...
With their insignificant infighting complimented with backbites.
Their own divisions they have created,
Escalated devastation.
Clearly they are a people of greed,
Wanting more of it for themselves to feed.
With an outsourcing of jobs...
For cheaper labor to pay as their economy slipped away.
They were the ones to oversee this travesty,
As a means to quietly lift themselves...
To the land of abundant gluttony.
Divisions they have created,
Deletes the fact of their discreeted deceit.
As their own hands dipped
While a diminishing of beliefs of those values and standards,
Were going unpoliced!
They speak of a greatness only reviewed on sporting fields.
They speak of a greatness on streets of decadence no one feels.
To lead is to know how to follow.
To greed is to know how to follow those like this who lead.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Qualified To Do
The only thing that qualifies most who are not scutinized,
Are looks of images created to project and portray...
What is wished to be perceived and believed.
And unfortunately for others who are microscoped,
Competence, looks and intelligence together,
Are rarely in the mix when images are created...
To meet expectations that rely on accountability.
This just doesn't happen when folks seek mediocrity.
Since it isn't publicly revealed,
Only images are sought to appeal.
People of intelligence present threats to the status quo!
And although those who prefer to go unchallenged,
Are often the ones selecting image over substance...
To address their standards that are valued,
They are often given an attention to debate...
Without reason,
Why their insults placed upon responsible folks...
Should merit a listening to their fault finding.
The only real thing image seekers are qualified to do!
And insist with persistence their 'senses' are common.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Courage To Be Honest
All he has done,
Is to remove hypocrisy...
From the decision making process.
And although this is historic,
In the eyes of those self righteous...
He has shown an ability as a leader,
To have the courage to be honest.
And for those hiding behind shadows,
This is incredible news.
It is unbelievable!
Leaving many to say,
He has done this for political reasons! !
Duh!
Let's evaluate his position.
He once had taught law.
He has interpreted the constitution,
As documented by the founders of their society.
Especially the part that says,
Protecting the rights of all people...
Regardless of their religious affliations.
That part.
That part that states...
Everyone should be treated equal.
And for the people observing this...
He has exposed his willingness,
To represent ALL people...
AND not to defy God's wishes.
For those thumping upon their Bibles.
With a cutting to paste their re-writes.
However...
He has offended those who would rather live lives,
Pretentiously.
Offending the ones who advocate for family values,
AND standards...
But whose leaders of their moralistic foundations,
Are being investigated for crimes of all kinds.
You name them!
They are there in full representation.
And THEY...
Regardless of their religious affliliations,
Or political indoctrinations...
Have used their own beliefs,
To prove they are out of their minds.
Although insist their own ignorance should be followed.
No matter what the evidence is...
That has proven them to be selectively crazed.
And these days...
Quite blatant about it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Telling Tales To Tattle
Tales tattled and told to sell or barter,
Are not the ones recommended to be eager to keep.
Not if the telling of them make the innocent weep.
Since resentments kept can grow deep.
And the price one pays for telling tales to tattle,
Has a way to come back to rattle one's peace...
In a way that the teller had wished never altered,
To utter as told to sell to be sold.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Success And Image And The Face Of It
Those who say,
Looks aren't everything!
Aren't the ones who are judged,
Based solely upon them.
And besides...
This can be deducted,
From what many prize.
Thick lips, nappy hair and brown eyes...
Are not considered standards,
By those who analyze.
Not for a beauty,
Considered to be immortalized.
No matter who is competent...
In a package that is presented!
If it doesn't suit the taste,
For those who select an image to digest.
As an appearance,
That suggests success...
And not a waste to regret.
It will be the 'image' one picks,
Over a competence that 'may' exist.
'But hasn't it been image and not substance,
That has increased in an invited decadence? '
Well...
Yes.
'But who in reality today believes? '
Remember this...
Image speaks volumes.
And easier to hype.
On the other hand...
Reality is something placed,
On an equality wish list...
Not too soon to happen,
For the sake of changing...
Success and image and the face of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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