Something To Offend
One's prolonged obsession,
With soliciting empathy...
Eventually gains them a sympathy,
For possessing a mentality...
That has left a maturity,
Something to offend the ones...
Who will never in their minds,
Self examine their insecurities to address it.
And it continues to hurt those,
Forced to remain stunted and stagnant...
By those who can not divorce from the hold,
On their limited views on growth...
While advocating the advancement of ignorance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Surrounds and Magnifies
If life itself is not poetic...
With bewildering twists,
Adorned with abstract expressions
Worn to adapt
As one who is seen
Wearing an assortment of hats!
Then for some...
Who believe they have power
To censor and shun
What grows and blooms under the Sun...
Stunt their own growth,
With diminishing opportunities to expand
Limited minds already confined!
No matter who decides to live through it...
With eyes and ears closed.
Left to breathe in suffocating boxes.
Choosing to experience what 'is' unexposed.
They will always be 'outfoxed'...
By that which surrounds and magnifies.
An obnoxiousness encouraging misfits...
The ones who sit on standards that have drifted.
And eventually mentally blocked,
As life continues to thrive,
Without the narrow minds of those...
Withered in a time no one wishes to revive!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lesson #1
Lesson #1...
You can not convince those,
Who have made up their minds...
That an alternative approach,
Will provide a better benefit.
They will not hear it!
Since their minds have been blocked,
And limited.
Leave them alone,
To experience their own ignorance.
And by doing this...
You have removed yourself,
From feelings of guilt and remorse.
Left behind for someone else,
To eventually admit.
You must allow them to confront their egos...
On their own terms.
If you don't...
No one grows to learn!
And an ego on a rampage,
Isn't worth sacrificing...
An earned peace of mind!
Leave that nonsense,
To find its own way.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Gridlock Blocks
Gridlock blocks and stops,
Advancement.
And those who attempt to prevent this growth,
With their votes...
Choke,
On their own ineptitude provoked.
And there...
Under a glaring spotlight,
They've become stunned...
By those seeking to see them,
Get things done.
To eventually be revealed to everyone...
That gettings things done,
Is not one of their capabilities.
Upsetting a correct direction,
That has promise to become effective...
Is the only implementation used to increase,
An obsession the opposition uses,
To ensure complete defeat.
Even if it is at their own expense.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Brink Of Extinction
Creating with a solicitation,
A lazy and undisciplined existence.
To identify a segment of one's population,
As dysfunctional.
May for those responsible,
In the implementation of this...
Boost egos.
But cost effective?
No!
Only fools feeding an isolated greed,
Would keep this as their belief.
Only a complete ignorance,
Would perceive this approach...
To be an effective reflection of greatness.
Those assigned to oppress minds,
From the time of their birth...
Would find this uplifting to their self worth.
And not an encouragement nourishing,
One to the brink of extinction.
Those assigned to oppress minds,
Of those threatening their insecurities...
Eventually will find this point of view of superiority,
A mentally degrading aspect...
Of their own growth process and not an asset.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With Each Plateau Reached
With each plateau reached,
A piece of one's life is left behind...
To seek,
A greater experience that leaves,
Someone or something regretted.
Someone or something felt neglected.
But growth is just what that is.
A growth seldom occurs,
Without shedding some tears.
And a grief that eventually teaches.
With a mission that continues,
To be personally journeyed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Need Of a Deep Cleansing
What is not working,
Has long passed the hour...
Of needing to be fixed.
Whether acknowledging this from a pulpit.
Or soliciting self righteous views...
Through politics,
It makes no difference.
What is not working,
Has long passed the hour...
Of needing to be fixed.
A lack of maturity has overstayed its visit.
Reality, truth and one's perceived existence,
Are not all on the same page as steps to correct.
So many are confused,
And accustomed to being mentally abused...
They refused to remove the veil from their eyes.
With wishes to delude their lives as has been undenied,
As few attempts are made to free and adjust...
Most minds fixed upon temptations and lust.
What is not working,
Has long passed the hour...
Of needing to be fixed.
With a need to be 'real' with it!
Whether acknowledging this from a pulpit.
Or soliciting self righteous views...
Through politics,
It makes no difference.
We...
Are in need,
Of a soul searching done...
That affects the success a deep cleansing gets!
We...
Are in need,
Of deep cleansing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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They Know That They Don't Know
They know that they don't know!
And their opinions discloses the evidence.
Most of their knowledge has been obtained,
By innuendos and nonsense.
Leaving them exposed,
To an ignorance that shows.
They know that they don't know!
And any actions taken to comprehend...
Becomes entrapped by an inferiority,
Felt within them.
And that which escapes their understanding...
Is left out of their reach.
Although very close...
Are those answers they seek most.
But quick they fold their arms to their chests,
With stubborn hands to express...
Their choice not to hear,
What for them is best!
Declaring they wish not to listen...
Because facts distracts,
A consciousness they lack!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
Stubborn and they're limited.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Mentality of One's Ignorance
The mentality of one's ignorance,
Is often fed from birth.
One's environment exposes them...
To a comfort they grow to thirst.
People of limited securities,
Are the first to label and compare.
Uncertain of their own identities...
They use status and class,
To separate themselves...
In communities as if others are diseased.
The mentality of one's ignorance,
Is often fed from birth.
Beliefs and standards are subsidized,
To qualify one's worth.
And the ones who are at a disadvantage...
Aren't the ones who are depicted as poor!
The ones whose lives are victimized...
Are those who take from others,
With a quest that feeds a need for more!
And unsatisfied with their own lives...
They refuse to respect other cultures,
By imposing their own,
Upon foreign shores.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Aging Hands
There are those,
Spoiled from birth...
Who believe they can do,
Exactly what they please...
When and to whom they choose.
They do not accept responsibility for their actions.
And accuse others for being insensitive,
When their lack of accountability...
Infringes upon those deeds they perceive,
Are discussed too direct and much too frank.
These folks,
Are fighting internal battles.
And they surround themselves with others,
They rely to protect them...
From the pain of reality.
Unfortunately,
And eventually...
They are 'forced' to be the adults,
They dress outwardly and masquerade to be!
Very few,
Walking upon this Earth...
Are going to stagnate their own growth,
Raising stunted children's minds...
Charading themselves in adult bodies,
For too long!
Knowing something about this,
Is sick and wrong!
These times are changing much too fast...
To keep a grasp onto aging hands!
Especially when the traffic,
Is moving like it is...
In all directions.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Direct Correcting
I hate to offend one's ignorance.
I know too well,
The damage this can cause.
I too have been a victim,
Of my own stubbornness.
With beliefs I once,
Knew it all.
I hate to offend one's ignorance.
I know too well,
The damage this can cause.
To obtain experience,
And gain a knowledge that transcends...
Where an 'awareness' accepted,
Once had been.
Rarely opens all minds at the same time.
I too have been a victim,
Of my own stubbornness.
With beliefs I once,
Knew it all.
With a defense mechanism,
That stalled like a wall...
The coming in of a comprehension.
I hate to offend one's ignorance.
I know too well,
The damage this can cause.
But every now and then,
I can not just sit and pretend...
I am accepting of anyone's delivery to receive,
From them...
A blinding disrespect without my direct correcting.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Into Forensics
Death did not kill them.
The way they lived killed them.
Death just ended it from being prolonged.
And stopping their activities,
To bring them eternal peace.
Experienced by a physical release.
Allowing an entrapped soul to be freed.
Death did not kill them.
The way they lived killed them.
Death just ended it from being prolonged.
Unlike ignorance.
Ignorance commits mass murder on a daily basis.
And gets away with it.
To defend those who become offended...
If they are accused of it.
'AND' their guilt is proven!
You're into forensics.
Figure that one out!
I'm going somewhere to enjoy my divorce.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Our Hearts and Minds Wont Let Us
The chirping of the birds are there.
Flying in and out of trees,
Where they make their nests.
As a welcoming of squirrels,
Gather with an assortment of insects.
And they seem to accept this as home.
The grass and the flowers bloom,
From the ground.
And nature at 'her' best...
Is observed all around.
Providing them a home.
Animals we learn to call by different names...
Seem to enjoy roaming freely,
In simplistic settings.
Sharing with few boundaries claimed.
And being there,
At home.
Do we as human beings feel out of place?
Rejecting a diversity,
That challenges nature's grace?
Do we seek a progress,
That erases to eliminate...
A naturalness that comes with change.
With attempts we make to remain the same?
To settle on patches of dirt...
And branding what belongs to us!
To chase away trespassers...
Who come with aims to make their gains.
Unable to accept who we are...
In the hopes to find a cure,
For our insecurities endured!
In a stagnant advancement.
Procured to suffer our own rejection.
And there is no place to call home...
Where peace is released!
In conflict with what is presented.
Done without our consent.
Although researched with documents!
With wishes to perfect...
What is witnessed.
And yet we expect...
Our desires not to be denied!
We try to find rest!
But our hearts and minds,
Wont let us...
Be free to just be!
Or digest a united purpose.
And feel,
Inside of us...
A home already given.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Have A Tendency To Ridicule And Attack One Another Harshly On The Deepest Levels
We have a tendency to ridicule and attack one another harshly on the deepest levels, really calumniate to destroy one other emotionally, morally, personally. This reflects the emotional ignorance, lack of understanding and emotional respect we where subjected to, often unintentionally, as children as infants, as newborns, it gets played out in all sorts of elaborate fashions but in essence it is the results of our hurt minds, emotions, feelings and soul.
How do you respond in a healing manner to others that are important to you that are marooned on such emotionally stunted levels that hold such limiting, painfully restricting views? You do not go down to their level, nor do you pretend that the gravity of their mindset is not toxic. You go on with your life, as you do you might occasionally invite them to meet you on higher grounds but do not engage in battles on lower levels. You lose your self and power that way. You gain self and strength when you have the space to engage live freely, meaningfully that only comes when you do not restrict your self to battles on lower levels. You healing these who are receptive to heal, in time others will find their own way if the choose to let go of the unfulfilling ways they are exercising on lower levels, mind sets, when such individuals stop using control for control sake. If out of stubbornness they wish to remain immature, that is their choice, you do not have to destroy your self, hurt your self in engaging with them, by connecting with them, in trying to save them if they do not want to move.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Left To Examine
People seldom select rebellion.
From a truth spoken and understood.
Yet those upset and labelled rebels,
Know too well...
They've been deceived and meant to be.
With perceptions shallow and kept to believe,
And fed to a consciousness deluded to depths.
And difficult it is to keep people like this,
Conformed to accept values distanced from reality.
Realities often thought to be militant with intent.
And long mentioned by the ones...
People decided they would choose to shun.
But themselves left to examine and now have begun,
Analyzing traditions and values with a doing done.
With a wondering of which standards to use.
Where to go and who to question,
To release them from confusion.
And self inflicting mental abuse.
Protected in historic denial hypnotized to seduce.
Left to examine...
These times.
And how will they be...
Redefined.
How will that begin to be done,
These times.
And how will they be...
Redefined.
Left to examine...
These times.
And how will they be...
Redefined.
How will that begin to be done,
These times.
And how will they affect,
Minds!
Left to examine...
In the coming of the changing times.
And...
How will that begin to be done,
In minds,
Left to examine...
In the coming of the changing times.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Empathy And Sympathy.
Love turns to empathy when one sees God in all,
The sharing of the self in life's rise and fall.
Fostered humbleness, blooms the empathy's flower,
And with it God's bliss, spontaneously showers.
While sympathy is Ego’s hubris,
Authority of superiority finds release
Empathy is a cry for other’s suffering,
Sharing oneness with all human beings
Sympathy is worldly and mercy it may trace,
Empathy sees itself in all living face.
.
poem by Bazi alis Subrata Ray
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The empathy
To give alms is compassion.
To feel for one’s sufferings is sympathy.
To share one’s sufferings is empathy.
What you do to parents is compassion,
What you do to siblings is sympathy.
Your doings to offspring is empathy.
Shows empathy to others to be great.
11.09.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Increase Of Its Popularity
The one thing about ignorance,
That is beginning to make sense...
To those advocating their prinicples,
And beliefs with enforced implementation...
Is the acceptance of ignorance everywhere.
Spreading to eliminate the thought of its existence.
Leaving the many who had perceived ignorance to be,
As appalling and offensive to become today outnumbered.
Making the appearance of ignorance the choice preferred.
That satisfies both purpose and taste,
Without need for debate to question.
With few left to argue the increase of its popularity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Outrageous Demands
It continues to amaze,
How those voices that raise.
Their outrageous demands,
Are given a patient ear.
With subsidies thrown to them,
That are sought ways to find uses.
Eventually.
While others that are seen,
With obvious needs.
Are forced to certify their qualifications,
That depict as if.
Their status of being hungry and homeless,
Are legitimate reasons to declare themselves.
Among the ones needy.
Since appearances are not quite enough to verify.
Especially.
When any subsidies given to them,
Are being limited and still questioned.
By those feeding themselves on abundance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Breast Fed
Sacrificing the expected,
To be the unaccepted self
One is.
Regardless if tears fall.
Afterall...
The time will come,
When others find that being shunned
For who one 'is'...
Has its rewards.
And being ignored,
Provides a growth that shows those stunted...
In ways that delays a maturity,
Fear by others still seeking to be breast fed.
From any available 'crib'.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Begging For It
Maybe it has a lot to do,
With experiencing challenges.
Those obstacles can be nerve wracking.
And when they come back to back...
Patiently listening to give empathy,
Does not zoom to the top,
Of anyone's priority list.
And with a limiting done to my fears,
To a minimize their affect on my emotions...
Can give me an appearance of being detached.
And honestly?
Sometimes I prefer to make those appearances.
And perhaps it has a lot to do with,
A lowering of my tolerance level.
I've accepted a maturity as the only reason,
Why I do not sugar up my words...
With a spicing done not to offend.
Intentionally.
Now when I offend...
Someone begging for it,
It is intended.
I do the best I can,
Not to disappoint anyone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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