Sedated
It's time to dropp hopscotched ideals.
Limited in isolation...
Within the minds,
Of those locked in and boxed.
Guilt rides them with fear.
No sleep comes near them at night.
A contained anger,
Keeps them in beliefs...
Their way of life is right.
Although a solicited greed,
Has pushed them to the brink.
Fading values and standards,
Are spoken of as treasures...
With such a seriousness,
Their fixed eyes do not blink.
Their very existence relies,
On the marketing of decadence.
And once great foundations...
Are decaying more rapidly than common sense.
Guilt rides them with fear.
No sleep comes near them at night.
A contained anger,
Keeps them in beliefs...
Their way of life is right.
It's time to dropp hopscotched ideals.
Limited in isolation...
Within the minds,
Of those locked in and boxed.
Although a solicited greed,
Has pushed them to the brink.
Fading values and standards,
Are spoken of as treasures...
With such a seriousness,
Their fixed eyes do not blink.
As if they have been...
Sedated!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
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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These are Values and Standards Kept Within
Deliberate and scheduled maintenance,
Prevents foundations from becoming weak.
Boosts and bolsters securities monitored
And reflects a respect given.
Twenty four hours,
Each and every day each week.
A pride is shown!
With a discipline that seems to be attached,
To unquestioned competence.
A strength beams to gleam in a constant glow.
And support of it is given, bestowed and not hidden.
As if understood and unmistakably comprehended.
These are Values and Standards Kept Within
These are values and standards,
Kept within.
Kept within.
Kept within.
These are values and standards,
Kept within.
Kept within.
Kept within.
These are Values and Standards Kept Within
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some Would Rather Run and Hide
For eight years,
One man was allowed...
To strip them bare of their principles.
Leaving them naked of values.
And barren of their quality of life.
Now they are fearful,
That a new leader...
Will not understand their standards.
Is not aware of their needs.
And he is the only one mentally stable.
Capable to restore order.
And chose this responsibility,
To clean up the injustices...
Inflicted upon them.
And yet...
They distrust him,
Because he dares to be honest...
Direct and disciplined.
And they are afraid...
He may solicit from them sanity!
He presents a differentness.
And this is not their custom.
Some would rather run and hide...
Than confront reality.
And he scares them with his seriousness,
To have them sacrifice their fantasies.
Even though crooks they have trusted...
Have left them bone dry of treasured beliefs,
And their ideals!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Effective Etiquette
Representing a decadence this is...
Represents its existence,
As it is and this is clear.
To uphold values and standards,
Many rush to come to defend...
Is hypocritical in presentation.
When a marketing of decadence,
Does not offend.
Until...
One elected,
To sit in a prestigious position...
Lies and denies a taste for lust.
With an innocence trusted,
Adored by those upper crust.
But...
That trust becomes busted.
And pretentiousness kept,
Becomes betrayed.
And those who know...
Their values and standards,
Meet an acquired effective etiquette...
Are seen to be embarrassed,
By a smearing done to their politcal correctness!
Oh...
What a feeble web they live to weave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Quick Possession
Insignificant they see themselves.
And a showing of this towards life as well.
Hollow and ungrateful feelings,
Taught and perceived by those whose beliefs...
Were dictated to them in environments,
Where they represent the people living in them.
Insignificant they see themselves.
Just like their parents who felt the same way.
With similar images of obtaining success,
As a quick possession of what they can get.
With a having of that which impresses,
No matter how easy such unrealities come to be lived.
Or what the judge says before sentencing them to prison.
A mindset fixed and conditioned to be self centered,
Is a mindset that lacks other values!
And those 'standards' by which they live...
Is obtained by the entertaining of decadence.
With such a marketing done that trivializes life...
And the significance of being human.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Meant to Be Included
Values and standards!
Are they goals to maintain.
A way of life,
Kept sustained to remain.
Or are they ideals out of reach.
Wth a hope that one day,
A practice accepted...
Will not be preached.
Values and standards!
When created,
What was the intention.
To reflect mindsets,
In public display of pretentions.
Or were diversed cultures,
Meant to be included in this 'plan'.
Since no worthy growth has been detected.
And fellowship and goodwill seems to have been arrested.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Generational Theft
They talk about 'their' principles.
'Their' values,
Standards!
And 'their' land.
They talk about 'their' rights.
'Their' rules and restrictions.
And who is not correct in etiquette!
With 'proper' social grace...
That makes them uptight!
They talk about themselves,
And 'their' interests...
That has led others on the brink,
Of a global blight!
But nothing has been mentioned,
Of the spread of this disease...
That has blinded them,
Of a consciousness with sight!
And 'their' way of life,
Has caused severe harm to humanity!
That has created an economic devastation.
Keeping them in fear.
And awake at night!
And...
They campaign,
To lay the blame...
Upon others for 'their' shame!
Referring to 'their' own need,
To feed 'their' own greed that has bled them...
'Generational Theft'!
And yet...
They have planted these seeds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Many Will Never Recover At All
Leave those alone who are comforted by their own beliefs.
Fragmented realities had at one time brought relief...
To the ones who pocketed funds from such divisions!
Choosing not to listen and making wrong decisions.
Those days are fading fast for them.
From all fronts their outlooks are crumbling within.
Soon those affected can not refuse the truth.
It will be there shared by all.
And those who run from it,
Need not be pursued!
For them there will be no exit!
Let them with limited time persist.
Sit back and watch their minds split to bits.
And feel blessed you were able to see it for what it was.
Some might be able to grow from it.
Unfortunately...
Many will never recover at all!
Since honesty for them,
Was something they felt could be put off!
And reality for them will be a wound to go exposed...
Never to heal.
Creating defeat and their downfall.
With minds sold on treasures gone...
A purpose to exist leaves them nothing left to feel.
But a ground for their hands and knees to crawl.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Then Amongst Them
Who then amongst them...
Did not have achievement on their minds?
Or a way of life documented,
With 'acceptable' accomplishments...
Planned with pre-requisites?
Who then amongst them...
Did not have children with the same beliefs.
A working ethic kept to produce a life of ease.
A good job with a home marked by a picked fence.
Neighbors with the same ideals,
Who socialized at the same events.
Standards and values,
That were glued and secured...
Defended with pretense.
Who then amongst them,
Knew...
The future ahead held darkness instead.
Who then amongst them knew...
A way of life pursued would unravel.
As quick as personal artifacts,
Could be removed from walls.
Who knew that dreams would come to this end...
For any of them to witness,
Uhaul trucks being loaded to the brim.
With hopes packed and driven away from it all!
Who then amongst them knew?
Or...
Envisioned this kind of fall?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Need to Write This Stuff Down
The state of all quality of life,
Has weakened in the face of greed...
Isolation and a dedication,
To advance the marketing of ignorance.
And a debate continues as to the experience,
Of a new leader who comes fresh with ideals.
And of this sacrifice he makes,
They have stated he will not maintain their values.
'LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL...'
St op!
None of this is funny!
'You have no idea how ridiculous this is!
This is hysterical stuff!
It is reminiscent of a sermon I heard.
Actually delivered from a pulpit.
And I sat in a pew...
Holding myself together.
Doing the best I could,
To keep my ass from laughing.
Man,
Just like I told that reverand...
You need to write this stuff down!
Or do 'stand up'.
Don't waste this stuff.
You might have found a new career.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Perfected Deception
Bailout?
A prolonged stimulus,
Packaged to delay...
A masked betrayal.
To produce to loan,
From nothing one owns...
Provides a deeper digging done,
To convince more credit will lift everyone...
From a hole!
That will not be closed.
Until the truth is told.
And truth has never been a commodity,
For sale to be sold!
Bailout?
A prolonged stimulus,
Packaged to delay...
A masked betrayal.
With the hopes that time...
Offering less to those who whine,
Will find an acceptance.
As a way of life is slowly erased...
By a perfected deception,
That has come to take its place.
And minds have adapted,
To being entrapped.
With beliefs that a fleecing done...
Will satisfy the bitter taste,
Experienced by those...
Who have had their standards and values,
Come abruptly to a close!
As greed is stopped.
And open gates locked.
With an understanding...
This choice for them was one they chose.
And the ecstasy that teased delusions...
For them has been forever blocked.
'Will you please pass the escargot? '
Find your own snails!
Their all over the beach!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Th3 Fight In M3
Lost
Confused
Forgotten
Words that explain my life
Hate
Rage
Anger
Words that explain how I feel
But there are no words to explain the pain goes threw inside of me
Like a war is going on inside of me
Every day I feel as if I am fading away
No matter how far I run
I never could escape the fear
So I hold it in
All the anger that I hold in during the day
Unleashes during the night in my sleep
Sometimes I wish I just took my anger out on those who causes it
But then I hold my self back
Like a beast tied to unbreakable chain
But when I sleep
I do more fighting then sleeping
Like the anger just wants to hunt me
And the more I hold it in the more it feels like its going to unleash stronger
Maybe some day the anger, the fear and the pain will all unleash
poem by Stephen Merced
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Fixed Beliefs
So difficult it has to be,
For many to catch up...
From principles outdated.
And feeding on fast diets of all kinds.
To leave them with poisoned minds,
Stressed...
By a merriment cemented,
To a way of life...
Causing duress with fixed beliefs.
And in fear of reality...
Encroaching upon their precious 'standards'
Kept deluded.
To dismiss this has to be difficult.
To observe it as a witness,
Is a blessing disguised!
Revealed as eyes are opened.
Despite restrictions...
Those feeling suppressed,
Grew.
They had to.
Knowing life offered more than traps.
Beyond displays of isolated hatred...
Graphically mapped,
And strategically studied.
To finally comprehend...
For them,
They are all related...
In blood and need.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Eternally Fortified
There is a place...
Deep within the crevices,
Of their recessed minds!
Where they perceived themselves envied.
Conditioned to believe they were in possession,
What others wanted to take.
Others wanted so badly...
They felt a need to defend themselves,
With weapons and attitude.
They believed themselves highly educated.
Although a few...
Even with degrees,
Could comprehend, read or write.
Even fewer than that,
Had common sense.
And those who did express it,
Were feared!
Even though rarely used.
One day when they awakened,
To address what had been rumored,
As 'reality'!
They found their greatness gone.
They discovered those they despised...
Could care less who they were.
In fact...
They had the better lives!
'Where is my mink, Harry?
Is it still in storage? '
Who tricked these people into beliefs,
Of nonsense?
Who damaged their minds?
And left them quite densed?
Whose standards and quality of life,
Depleted over night?
'Certainly not mine.
I still have tons of caviar! '
Who finally discovered they had worshipped,
Decadence and greed?
Who finds they are economically busted?
With a sick point of view...
That has left them to grieve?
'Harry...
Is that 'you' in there,
Doing that Orson Welles imitation?
I wish you would stop it.
It's so annoying.
Come help me select fabric,
For drapes.'
And...
Even if they solicited,
No where would they discover...
Anyone to show them,
Empathy or sympathy!
And even with this acknowledged...
They 'still' perceived themselves,
The envy of those filled with jealousy!
'That's a 'keeper'.
I love that line.'
Even those who loaned them money.
And owned everything they had!
Including their property and mentalities!
Did not express sadness.
'Don't worry!
They will never take away our racism!
And 'that' we will keep eternally fortified.
We must remain encouraged!
We must...
Maintain our birthright.
Let us now descend,
Within the bowels of our caves!
These theme parties are getting more extravagant.
You're going to love what I did.
I had a designer to do each room,
To my specifications.
So authentic!
You are not going to believe the detail.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Have No Similar Interests
You have spent your time attacking my beliefs.
But it is your beliefs that now attack you.
Not once did I ever say,
You should do things my way.
However...
Your way,
Done...
Lead to your undoing.
You have spent your time attacking my beliefs.
But it is your beliefs that now attack you.
You had fast backing from a society.
Many professed as normal.
The one that sets standards...
With values to achieve.
You also had 'close' friends,
You spent time with.
I lived in my own 'world'.
And your laughter persisted.
Until it recently has drifted,
Away.
You have spent your time attacking my beliefs.
But it is your beliefs that attack now you.
Not once did I ever say,
You should do things my way.
However...
Your way,
Done...
Lead to your undoing.
Why am I now,
Getting your unanswered calls?
We have no similar interests.
None that bestows a wish,
To speak to you.
And all that I have gone through...
I just let my telephone ring.
Often to go unnoticed.
Any hellos I wish to here...
Are personal and exchanged,
When I am near...
From ear to ear.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Condition of Traditions
How will we handle,
The complete absence of fading values.
And the dismissing of those messages,
Through the years.
Those messages missed and blocked,
By closed ears.
How will we handle the loss of standards,
And our way of self righteous life.
How will we handle the right 'not' to fight,
In needless struggle.
Or clinched our teeth upon a bullet...
As tormenting pain surrounds,
To black and whiten...
Dimming colorized sights.
How will we handle scandle,
And revelations disbelieved.
How many awakened from deep and peaceful sleep,
Will move forward and aware they are seeking outreach.
And...
Just how many will be amused,
By thoughts of being used and abused by slick trickers!
Soliciting more of their conflicts,
In daylight and on city streets.
How can any of this be handled,
While being fixed quickly...
In the midst of this mix!
If...
Conditions of traditions are still disrespected.
Ignored and neglected.
And ammunition is deficient for the ones who are depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
How will we handle,
The complete absence of fading values.
And the dismissing of those messages,
Through the years.
Those messages missed and blocked,
By closed ears.
How will we handle the loss of standards,
And our way of self righteous life.
And ammunition is deficient for the ones who are depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers,
With selfish lives.
Grim and down and out dreamers,
With selfish lives.
And ammunition is deficient for the ones who are depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
Depicted as the:
Grim and down and out dreamers.
With-selfish-lives!
Grim and down and out dreamers.
With-selfish-lives!
Grim and down and out dreamers.
With-selfish-lives!
Just how will we handle the loss of standards,
And our way of self righteous life.
'How can any of this be handled,
While being fixed quickly...
In the midst of this mix!
If...
Conditions of traditions are still disrespected.
Ignored and neglected? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Surrounded By Calm and Clear Seas
Hypocrisy has got to be the center,
Of their beliefs.
Racial profiling is done.
Anyone who has been victimized,
Know it is common.
Racism exists.
What 'is' and 'is not' legal...
Is based upon preference.
Values and mentioned 'standards'
Are permitted by those,
With mindsets limited.
Confused are the people,
Who say 'aliens and immigrants'...
Invade upon their selected diversity!
Even though their activities...
Isolates them further,
In a feeding that deceives.
Despise they do with a bigotry.
Accusing 'that one' them and they...
As those who have depleted their sense of quality.
And yet...
Some folks perceive this planet Earth,
Belonging to them exclusively.
With a taking away from others,
To do exactly what they please.
Whether that is done upon these shores...
Or on remote inhabited islands,
In the middle of oceans.
Or accepting the hospitality...
Of unsuspecting natives,
Performing spiritual rituals.
And living peacefully...
Surrounded by calm and clear seas.
'We are behind with unconscious minds.'
~Well...
At least part of your comment is correct!
We 'are' behinds.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Daring To Be Self Righteous
Wouldn't it be great,
If our moods and values...
Had standards that were consistent?
And we weren't judging the depth taken,
Of someone's moral fiber dipped in decadence.
From a point of view that criticizes,
While we live our own hypocritical lives...
Daring to be self righteous,
As we all continue to patronize the height of sleaze.
And doing our best to climb that ladder with ease.
With a feeling to be entitled.
Wouldn't it be great,
If our moods and values...
Had standards that were consistent?
Although when publicized publicly...
There is a need instantly to defend a discipline,
That does not exist.
And when someone admits to us what we can kiss,
Immediately we become appalled.
With a wish to censor the innocence of 'children'...
Who are directly marketed to be as filthy as possible,
With the consent of all claiming to be 'trendy' and progressive.
Wouldn't it be great,
If our moods and values...
Had standards that were consistent?
And there was a benefit to our pretentions,
That were not so obviously seen cracking at the seams.
And our motives were not so obviously confused,
With a making of sense that today is nonexistent.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pain, hope, anger, Tired, fear, lost.
Pain, hope, anger.
Tired, fear, lost.
the pain within is only our own to bare
the hope is our mind playing tricks on us
the anger is finding there is no life
the tired of being pushed around
the fear of losing
the lost
Pain consumes the world
Hope is lost
anger is held high
Tired always
Fear consumes our minds
Lost is all our hopes
Pain can not beat us
Hope still shines the smallest ray of light
anger is controled
fear minimizes
lost is the feeling of emptyness
The pain wont hold us back
The hope shines the way
The anger can not harm
The fear is gone
The lost is home.
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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