Sitting Upon Fences
There is something being presented
That clearly separates from the truth.
It doesn't have to be spoken.
It is observed and felt.
Something is disconnecting.
And it is okay that it leaves and goes away.
It conflicts with higher consciousness.
And those on the threshold of it,
See and feel the difference...
Between reality and pretense.
And those who are deluded...
Are observed living lives,
Absolutely making very little sense.
And yet they believe they hide their intentions...
By keeping themselves exposed,
While sitting upon fences imposing their denseness
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The Brewing Scent Of Freshly Made Coffee
It is no longer a matter of them telling the truth.
No...It isn't!
And it should be a concern for those who know it,
As it exists in their gut and as it has to them meant,
From observation, felt and experienced as presented...
That those who use other than truth to tell,
Actually are not convinced others are aware they lie.
Since alibis and excuses behind which they hide,
Has been something done to do all of their lives.
And their delusions have become their defense mechanisms.
But today,
Those embellishments exaggerated are easily chased away.
And facing consequences as a result of their defenses,
Has created their dilemmas and conflicts with their entitlements.
Some people will create right in the face of others,
There own versions of what is going on.
With eyes are pure as those seen coming from children.
And this isn't given as an option to express,
Their difference of opinion to address.
This comes from refusing to accept the absence of alternatives.
And what has taken place is immediately from them mentally erased.
Leaving feelings of abandonment,
By those who have been fantasized all their lives.
That is why they protest with a nonacceptance of a reality that is!
Although those realities as they are have never before to them been felt.
And no one seems to acknowledge,
The brewing scent of freshly made coffee...
There!
And everywhere in the air for all to get a deep whiff of it.
'That 'smell'?
What is it? '
~I have not a clue.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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No One Has to Know You Are Not Medicated
'Their explanations are totally ridiculous.'
I know it and you know it.
But we are suppose not to show that we know.
We are to pretend we are convinced,
That what they do makes sense.
To uphold their eroding credibility.
And all we have to do is live through it.
Go through the motions.
As if what they do in our minds does not exist.
'So,
In other words...
We are to sacrifice our realities,
And keep them in a deluded pretense...
Kept with crumbling standards,
Observed but not spoken?
Live a lie...
Is that what you're saying? '
Not only live it...
Become it!
'But...
That's a sick existence! '
Ssssshhh...
No one has to know,
You are not medicated.
And that is the challenge,
You must face.
Pretending not to be disgusted,
And disgraced by it all!
Unless of course...
You decide you have no choices left.
And they perceive you as completely deranged.
Which does provide its benefits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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It is Inevitable
Accepted or not.
Deceived or manipulated,
To replace it with dishonesty.
Truth.
When it is revealed,
Can no longer be concealed.
Or interpreted for something it is not.
And regretting not to have embraced it,
When that opportunity comes.
To have it faced,
Does not change the integrity of those
Who have known and lived the truth.
When opposition displays its evil.
Although,
Those who have based their lives.
On lies told as they lived,
Are the ones haunted by their misdeeds.
Observed as seen.
Leaving truth shown to be spoken and known,
Eventually winning all battles!
It is inevitable that an evil is chased away.
Once the masquerading of it has been exposed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Outside Enclosed Fences
It takes curiosity,
To break free from restricting limits.
It takes a willingness to investigate,
One's difference continually mentioned.
With a hunger to comprehend,
Why are those programmed with mindsets...
Affixed to conditions and quick to defend them
When many are observed to be accepting,
Of rituals affecting them but making less sense.
And those addicted to this environment,
Become offended by the ones...
With experiences outside enclosed fences.
More obvious it is...
Are these acts of self-defeat fed to feed to addict.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Resistance To Its Existence
Only those who have discovered the truth,
For what it really is...
Can no longer submit to denial.
Or masquerade the experiencing of pain.
Pain has a way of making personal,
Its visitations...
When the prolonging of a resistance,
To its existence...
Is revealed in the feeling of it.
With an intended healing,
From all that had been delusioned.
And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Is observed still catering...
To willing participants.
Disregarding an urgency.
And...
The presence of it meant!
And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Is observed still catering...
To willing participants,
Subdued...
In a resistance to truth's existence.
And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Refusing the acceptance of truth...
Is observed subdued,
In a resistance to its existence.
And all that 'had' been delusioned,
Is observed still catering...
In a resistance to truth's existence.
While attempting to escape from its insistence.
Disregarding an urgency.
And...
The presence of it meant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Something You've Done
You know what you are.
Did my validation,
Confirm your findings?
Did you take a survey...
From those whose opinions you trust?
Was there a collective thought about you...
That boosted your ego up?
Or was any reality gained...
To refrain from making excuses?
Something I was never taught to do,
While living in the projects.
And in poverty too!
But you know what you are!
Unfortunately you don't like what you see.
And what is observed is of your making!
A sense of living out your own fantasies.
Something you've done and now can not believe.
It will help if you awakened from your faking.
Your dramatics have bored,
And have become ignored!
Although that task of hiding behind a mask,
May for you be heartbreaking!
But removing shallowness from your mind,
Will not be shattering or Earth shaking...
At all!
Not for those who have not overdosed on you.
And can see right through,
That crumbling wall you seem to think
Some can not see you for you!
And those tired attitudes you cling to!
It's about 'life'!
And how others are living theirs...
Is not being consumed by thoughts of you!
This too I am sure you will not believe!
No one I know think of you as their dependency!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Crowded With Lies
Why are some stunned by truth?
It is not something taught,
One gets accustomed to.
Billions are spent to fantasize.
There is no room for truth,
In a mind crowded with lies.
A progressive mindset,
Has been stunted because of this.
Dismissed are those who wish for reality.
And often they are labelled mavericks.
Or something less flattering,
To ensure their influence has no chance to exist.
Why are some stunned by truth?
It is not something taught,
One gets accustomed to.
Billions are spent to fantasize.
There is no room for truth,
In a mind bombarded and crowded with lies.
And yet those disillusioned,
Pray on Sunday...
To have their lives fixed.
While listening to sermons,
As to how sins and evil have them bewitched.
Their very lives lived are confused in conflicts.
Although truth for many has become feared,
And resisted.
Observed they are...
Bewildered, bothered and betwixted.
Why are some stunned by truth?
It is not something taught,
One gets accustomed to.
Billions are spent to fantasize.
And there is no room for truth,
In a mind bombarded and crowded with lies.
And the marketing of fresh lies...
Is a mainstay in most societies,
That has thrived and survived successfully!
But a continuation of a success like this,
Does not sustain its permanence.
Eventually a strain draining the brain prevents it.
People everywhere and everyday,
Reflect their lack of consciousness.
And revealing a 'craze' that has become accepted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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So Much Is Exposed
Patterns undeniable.
Stitched to conceal
A seamlessness of misdeeds.
With a portrayal of purity...
Even those kneeling in prayer,
Suspect.
These routines are meant to disguise.
To hide intentions as days go by.
Without a light to shine upon the dark things done.
But a higher consciousness arrives.
And with eyes closed,
So much is exposed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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While I recognize the necessity for a basis of observed reality... true art lies in a reality that is felt.
quote by Odilon Redon

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Profits Made to Keep Us Deluded Are Less
Are you and I better off than we were yesterday?
I would say yes.
Since profits made to keep us deluded are less.
And we seem to be awakening,
To a higher consciousness.
Although there are many,
Who still can not bring themselves to confess...
Conflicts addressed with unrest,
Does nothing to increase one's feeling of happiness.
And yet...
They let regrets continue to linger.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Conflicts Of Reality Dilutes The Truth For Many
There are those exclaiming,
The need and wish for less government...
In their lives.
In their wallets.
And their homes.
But...
Also these are the same people,
Who protest to have more money...
Of their own in their pockets.
Conflicts of reality dilutes the truth for many!
And not a face of theirs appears,
On the currency.
And if it is a penny or a dollar bill that is possessed,
The image imprinted has been a president.
Who has been elected to lead the government.
Few protesting keep this addressed.
And it seems many people will soon get their wish,
Because less government...
Is definitely going to be removed from the pockets.
And...
The evidence of that has already begun to appear.
Or disappear,
Depending on which side of the coin...
Is observed by many pinching pennies,
Being from them removed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Existing For Many
Which reality not accepted,
Existing for many...
Yet for some,
Refused and denied!
Why is it that those deluded, are given attention.
And those who seek truth...
Seem to be abused by deceit,
To be tricked and consciously lied.
And why is it 'that' which is observed,
Gets less respect...
Than the nonsense we've been taught to praise.
And why is it some days are confusing to others,
When all of us have been teased...
With addictions we crave.
Daily those temptations are sought,
With the acknowledgement we buy what we've bought...
Knowing that the price solicited,
Is one too high but we still agree and then overpay.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Flowers In The Rain
Woke up one morning half asleep
With all my blankets in a heap
And yellow roses gathered all around me;
The time was still approaching four
I couldnt stand it anymore
Saw marigolds upon my eider down.
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain making the garden grow,
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain keeping me cool.
So I lay upon my side with all the windows opened wide
Couldnt pressurize my head from speaking
Hoping not to make a sound I pushed my bed into the grounds
In time to catch the sight that I was seeking.
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain making the garden grow,
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain keeping me cool.
If this perfect pleasure has the key
Then this is how it has to be
If my pillows getting wet
I dont see that it matters much to me.
I heard the flowers in the breeze make conversation with the trees
Believed to leave reality behind me
With my commitments in a mess my sleep has gone away depressed
In a world of fantasy youll find me.
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain making the garden grow,
Im just sitting watching flowers in the rain
Feel the power of the rain keeping me cool.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's often been observed that the first casualty of war is the truth. But that's a lie, too, in its way. The reality is that, for most wars to begin, the truth has to have been sacrificed a long time in advance.
quote by L. Neil Smith

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Diplomacy
Why is it that you...
And others with your point of view,
Believe it is perfectly okay...
To re-appear as you please,
In the lives of those you have dismissed...
As being too direct with their candid honesty,
While making it an additional excuse for you...
To perceive the spoken truth as evil!
What makes you believe,
You and your unresolved issues...
Are sweetened treats,
You will tease others...
By keeping your headaches away.
Today...
People are living with a higher expectation,
To spend their time with others...
In the search for a higher consciousness.
You can decide to go in and out of hiding,
To protect your immature sensitivities...
For the rest of your life!
You can decide that priding your stubbornness,
Excites others into a frenzied curiousity...
To begin to question your whereabouts.
I wish to leave you with this comment made,
Your desire to keep revisiting a mental debilitating outlook...
Is on you!
And is a view only you and others delighting it explore.
But those who are seeking to open closed doors...
And remove locks from their uptight minds,
Are not trying to find ways to move around in darkness.
Many people today,
Are seeking to remove clouds from their visions.
And you apparently...
Will never see the importance to prioritize,
The connecting of those dots!
And yes,
You have taught me a lot...
About diplomacy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Figment of My Imagination
What you believe,
Doesn't bother me at all.
I am not the one walking over my beliefs.
Torn and tattered by self deception.
Pretending it is not debris from fallout...
That has totally collapsed from standards and values.
Or sitting relapsed and stifled,
From attempts to rejuvenate relevance.
Based upon a 'normalcy' that once had been declared.
Yet obviously bankrupt from a corrupted consciousness.
But then...
Should I keep those thoughts also to myself?
Or is this too...
A figment of my imagination?
Stored within the embittered heart...
Of one who has lived a life disadvantaged.
You tell me.
Since I am the one,
You say...
Has vanishing ideals.
That may be 'your' opinion.
However...
Which one of us is deluded,
Will not be a cause of debate.
Not when the truth of observation,
Is at stake.
What you believe,
Doesn't bother me at all.
Have it your way.
I don't have the credentials to convince.
Or am I here to try to open anyone's eyes.
And of that...
I am grateful to feel.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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You Just Want Me to Preach
Our 'children' are killing each other.
Society and the 'church' has allowed this.
Not spirituality with a consciousness.
Who buys into conflicts to have that condone?
And talk about the 'Devil'?
When only devilment is known.
As if a practice to be shown.
And people talk about themselves,
In despicable tones.
Even sitting next to one another...
To 'worship' and be entertained,
Under stadium domes.
And those who profess they know God...
Say so.
And that is overblown.
If folks can not see this,
They are blind to everything else.
They are caught up in image,
And not substance.
And blatant decadence is the evidence.
They are into pretense and nonsense!
And most definitely into themselves.
Sharing grief is their reality.
Ignoring their own soldiers they put to war,
Is their 'thing'.
Having 'bling' is their commander!
And anyone who claims to pray for peace,
And receives none...
They are going through the motions,
Of looking to impress.
And 'that' should be addressed.
To lift them out of their own created mess.
Instead of trying to correct,
An accepted physicality of things.
And a host of inanimated objects to posses.
With a sadness delivered.
And the madness that it brings!
Please!
You just want me to preach.
And I ain't in the mood to do it.
I just offer my opinions unsolicited.
I don't have to be ordained,
To say the same thing from a pulpit!
To convince what God wants.
And observe those in denial,
Objecting to a reality in disbelief.
As if to ignore it will bring them relief.
Please!
You just want me to preach.
And I ain't in the mood to do it.
Especially when an unconscious mindset,
Has been drugged to be numbed...
Deluded and succumbed.
And totally out of reach.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Defending Visions
Maneuvering my way through the BS,
Without letting too much of mine rub off!
Gotta keep this intact until I find a way,
To pack it up and leave it alone.
I've adjusted enough to misfits and budget cuts,
To watch deficits slide to raise my taxes sky high.
Definitions of equality need to be omitted or revamped.
Nothing stands for what it meant,
And in the meaning it's clearly misunderstood.
There's no comprehension of intentions to mention.
And recycled events to tense matters between races...
Makes no sense.
Especially when borders and fences are protected
At the expense of neglecting our own needs,
Denied...rejected.
OR outsourced to the highest bidder!
And I'm told I am bitter
Because these facts are observed?
I can't be the only one who believes this is absurd!
Maneuvering my way through the BS,
Without letting too much of mine rub off!
Gotta keep this intact until I find a way,
To pack it up and leave it alone.
The only thing that makes sense,
Is to pretend I have none!
And find a quiet place to hide...
To ride this crest of surging BS!
Sneaking peeks I do at those exhausted,
From a game of fulltime pretention!
How they can maintain their stamina,
Defending visions of lives not lived...
Is as stunning as witnessing Niagra Falls!
And yet wished that all of this,
Could fit into the Grand Canyon to look down upon.
Knowing that when the sunset arrives...
This visit will disappear soon before my eyes!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Debating It With Those Undecisive
Sometimes it is better to leave a truth observed,
To go unnoticed.
With a keeping of one's peace of mind preserved.
Especially if the appearance of truth,
Begins to stir debate.
And debating it with those undecisive,
Can create a diluting of it...
To satisfy those who wish to keep it distanced.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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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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