Splitting From Your 'B-S' Flings
You're just like a child.
One who asks questions.
But not patient enough...
To sit and listen to the answers for them.
Your mind can not resist...
Being turned on and turned off quick.
With distractions bombarding any moment.
And you expect someone, like me...
To understand this?
And not be connected.
As if I am void of being emotionally equipped.
One of us is in denial.
One of us puts others on trial...
If they do not live up to our 'scattered' expectations.
If they do not deliver to us the taste of our temptations!
And you can call what I am about to do,
Anything you choose to as it is addressed...
From your perspective free of truth!
But I am splitting from your 'B-S' flings with nonsense...
Right now!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Sinking From the Weight
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
And...
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
Is it an offense or a needless crime,
To defy fighting against...
Your own kind?
With selected ones chosen,
To occupy our minds.
For purposes to protect.
Their interests kept.
Even though we who are selected...
To do these deeds,
By those in sheltered discreet...
We remain despised,
By those who disrespect.
And fed from birth,
To know when to cheat...
Spy, lie and use alibis.
Is it an offense,
To not follow rules...
That make no sense.
As we must listen to 'authorities'
Who attempt to convince.
If a certain status given,
Is that of a minority....
Concerns of the majority,
Is a worthless expense.
And given less attention.
Is any seriousness mention.
Since no rights have been given,
A worthiness to drive 'unimportant' lives.
You may ride as a passenger...
But not permitted,
To make decisions from front seats.
And to speak,
Only when spoken to!
With a preferred silence.
To make what is done...
Even sweeter to complete.
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
And...
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
Is it an offense or a needless crime.
To defy fighting against,
Your own kind?
Or abandon ship,
Sinking from the weight...
Of evidence there is ignorance.
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
And...
Sinking from the weight of,
Denial.
We put on trial,
People we choose to deceive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Questions?
i am tired of questions
all of them
too familiar and all
with ready
homemade answers
canned questions
and answers
in one book
scanned for years
and you all know them
canned laughter
canned faces
canned souls
canned and caned and chained
bones
they rattle and they shake
and roll
i have no answers.
i am throwing all these questions away.
i live everyday. i look at the trees
and the forests.
i simply live. Now.
i have no more questions.
neither will i demand
any answer from you.
go, go, find yourself.
i stay here wanting to find nothing at all.
i guess, after my 48 years
there is this truth
that i find: there is nothing
nothing to find
nothing to expect
nowhere to go
it is just this and this and this.
the one that i have in my hand
the one that i keep on holding
i enclose it and keep it warm
and alive
and you do not even care
this is it: me, myself, and I
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At The Immense Seashore
at the immense seashore,
boasting of frozen wavelets of silvery sands
i stand as a small insignificant pin
under the huge canopy of the sky,
facing waves on waves of the magical blue
advancing and crashing on shore front
generating a variety of sounds-
a hiss, a clap, a thud, a thunder!
something definitely happens here;
mind grows curious to get into the vortex
and fish out the eternal truth-
it dawns on me a picture
of a parent holding the tiny hand of a cute child-
the child full of questions
firing them in quick succession
barely before the answers fully bloom-
restless questions, eternal doubts
one query leading to another
drawing out the entire mystery of nature;
a single question seed
exploding into the 'tree of universe '-
endless doubts and endless queries of baby waves
riding on the backs of huge parent waves
and the perennial patient answers of parent waves-
this world reverberates with endless searching questions
journeying in ethereal space, seeking answers from the creator
who has packed them tightly inside the ' Q '!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.
Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
poem by Wendell Berry
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Quick Am I To Return a 'Tude
Quick am I to return a 'tude'.
I am not a good receiver,
Of moods dumped on me.
With expectations...
I should understand,
Someone's funky attitiude!
I don't.
I did not major in psychology.
Or empathy overflow...
To have my emotions abused.
Quick am I to return a 'tude'.
I am not a good receiver,
Of moods dumped on me.
With expectations...
I should understand,
Someone's funky attitude.
I have my own issues.
And a doing it alone to correct them.
Has helped me process my weaknesses.
And I don't accept anyone telling me...
'You are strong and more experienced.'
I may be both.
But...
I am not a collector of insecurities.
Nor am I one to understand,
A delivery of another's disrespect.
Shown to me or anyone else addressed.
A maturity I may express...
Was not to me hand delivered.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Delivered And Personally Addressed
Some are able with an ability to see,
Events before they actually occur.
And there are regular worshippers,
Who pray for answers to their questions...
To be revealed to help them heal.
With a preference wished...
Noticed and preferred.
And when the answers come,
To be delivered by 'someone'...
God has chosen to deliver to them,
That message without a moment hesitation.
Those very same folks who say they pray with faith,
Turn away to dismiss the gift that has arrived.
And to them given!
WHY?
People are conditioned to go through their routines.
And this they do without purpose or meaning.
And their 'why' expressed is always attached,
To a 'me' that suffers duress.
And no one confesses to dismissing,
A message delivered and personally addressed.
'What are they looking for?
Someone dressed in 'Tux and Tails'...
With an orchestra and chorus led by a conductor? '
~Your Majesty...
I wish I had the answer to this dilemma.
But You must agree,
These creatures are Your creations.~
'I am reminded everytime,
I hear them complain, moan and whine.
And 'still' they refuse to listen to Me.'
~Maybe it is in the disbelief of their beliefs.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Questions
I don't remember my first question asked
Might have been to my mother while in my crib I basked
Or maybe it was to my father when he kissed me goodnight
Then he said a prayer for me and then he turned off the light.
Many questions I have asked since the day I was born
Many questions I have answered and many I did mourn
Some of them were the truth, but them I had masked
I don't remember why, but I remember they were asked.
Questions are needed to understand our life
Answers are needed so we too might avoid strife
Life is full of questions and are as many as drops of rain
And like rain drops not two questions are really the same.
Questions will be a part of us until that day we die
We will come across them daily with who, what, where or why
I dread not the future, but I do dread the past
I also dread the day, not knowing which question of mine will be last.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Why Are You Asking 'Me' Those Questions?
'What can I do?
When the world seems so screwed up.'
I ask.
'What is true for me?
And what isn't?
What is my task?
How long is this confusion I face,
Going to last? '
I ask.
'And if I pray everyday,
Will these conflicts go away?
Will these burdens be lifted?
How long can I expect to be afflicted,
By this.'
I ask.
And something inside pulled me aside.
I felt interrogated.
As if I should be stripped bare naked.
Of everything...
Including my pride!
I was not prepared to do that.
Even though everything else,
I had already tried!
And I was questioned...
By a voice I could not deny!
~When was the last time you prayed with faith?
Is it constantly done?
With a devotion felt that overcomes?
Why are you looking outside yourself...
To validate I exist.
When I sit within you...
Feeling you hide
As if from Me you resist.
How often do you listen?
And if you do...
Do you obey?
Like you say you do,
With Me in faith...
With an honesty of truth?
As you say you do everyday?
Or do you choose your obstacles with you to stay!
What is it that you wish from Me,
Anyway?
You think I'm going to sit with you,
And waste MY time away?
If you are not grateful for My presence...
How can I gift you with My blessings? ~
'Who is this?
Is this God?
And if this is...
Why are You asking 'me' those questions?
I thought you had ALL the answers? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So They Say
Time fixes everything,
Or so they say.
Die from a broken heart and it will mend,
Or so they say.
Watch your dreams fall apart and a new door will open,
Or so they say.
Live and love and you will be happy,
Or so they say.
Work hard and you will be recognized for your success,
Or so they say.
Forgive those who hurt you and you will feel better,
Or so they say.
Show your friends you love them and they will never hurt you,
Or so they say.
Be patient and in time you will get what you want,
Or so they say.
Sleep and you will feel rested,
Or so they say.
Let your tears fall; you'll grow stronger and not cry for the same thing twice,
Or so they say.
Write out your feelings and people will understand,
Or so they say.
Explain yourself and stand by your beliefs and you will not be judged,
Or so they say.
Keep your chin up and the sun will be back tomorrow,
Or so they say.
Be respectful and you will be respected,
Or so they say.
Follow our advice and you will go far,
Or so they say.
They say so much and expect it all to be true,
They watch us and judge our every move,
Yet still proceed to tell us how things will be okay.
They get our hopes up, they put a smile on our faces,
They act as if everything gets better.
With so many lies woven within the truths they speak how can we listen?
How do we know the truth from the deception;
The vision from the illusion
How do we trust that they will catch us as we fall,
Help us back on our feet,
How do we know when to listen and when to speak?
We'll know the answers to these questions when the time comes,
Or so they say.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Creation of His Wish
Can we detach ourselves from distractions?
Can we allow explorations to expand within our minds,
And finding the Universe more than a place
Confining us to taste limitations?
There is so much for us to perceive.
So much to adventure and much more to receive!
On a threaded existence that's how we survive.
Just one snap of that thread and time for us is denied.
This living 'thing' we call cosmic space...
Has much more to offer us,
Something 'divine'
Keep Earth's spin in place.
We hold on to concepts that we alone exist.
And yet there is proof other beings pay us visits!
Many are in denial with thoughts of disbelief.
Close your eyes and view what is seen...
A vastness we are part of,
And yet out of our reach!
Something is there to attract us to IT!
A consciousness more developed,
Must certainly exist!
Can we detach ourselves from distractions,
To ask this entity...
For a more enlightened state of mind,
Such as 'that' which we can not see?
We pray to God to materialize wishes...
And God is ALL of IT!
If we can detach ourselves from distractions...
More 'gifts' from God will come to benefit.
Since all that is witnessed is a creation of His wish!
If we can detach ourselves from distractions...
We can see God in ALL of 'this'!
There is so much for us to perceive.
So much to adventure and much more to receive!
Can you and me...
They and we,
Detach ourselves from distractions,
To validate our destiny?
If 'anything' is possible for God to provide,
Love and peace are not mere illusions...
But in fact realities!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Thought I Was A Child
Its such a clever innocence with which you do your sorcery
As if somehow the years just bow and let that young girl go free
I thought I was a child until you turned and smiled
I thought I knew where I was going until I heard your laughter flowing
And came upon the wisdom in your eyes
Surprise--
Ive spent my whole life running round
Chasing songs from town to town
Thinking Id be free so long as I never let love slow me down
So lonely and so wild until you turned and smiled
By now I should have long been gone
But here I am still looking on
As if I didnt know which way to run
Its such a clever innocence with which you show myself to me
As if you know how it feels to never be who you wanted to be
I thought I was a child until you turned and smiled
I thought that I was free but Im just one more prisoner of time
Alone within the boundaries of my mind
I thought I was a child
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Further Hesitating in the Waste of Time
I understand where you are going with this.
I even understand,
Why you might want this addressed.
But understanding 'you'...
I will never consider my priority.
Perhaps your therapist has you thinking,
You are okay.
And that is the reason your therapist gets paid.
But the time I have been given,
To live my life as I wish...
To adventure and explore,
Every moment of it...
I am going to do that.
Since...
It has only been a few years,
I realized I can do that and more...
Without asking for anyone's approval.
Or assistance.
And today?
I know what I can choose to accept.
Or choose to ignore.
And today and days ahead,
I will choose to ignore...
A further hesitating in the waste of time,
Others find important.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Raping of Reality
The human mind is fascinating.
It is programmed to manipulate.
The moment it is taught how things are connected...
A raping of reality begins.
A desire to impress with one's knowledge occurs.
Comparisons are sought and made.
And an ease of life is attempted.
Temptations are teased as denials are smothered.
Truth is hushed and medications are taken.
The human mind is fascinating.
It is programmed to manipulate.
The moment it is taught how things are connected...
A raping of reality begins.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Questions
It's everything we do while we're here
A fear or a thought, a feeling or a dream
Touch it and taste it, breathe it all in
Say what you feel, things aren't what they seem
Why live, why breathe,
Why breed, why die?
These questions all tied up inside
It's all or nothing or what you make it
A prize or a secret, Which path do you take
Decisions and gambles, a goal to be scored
Risks and lies We all make mistakes
Why live, why breathe,
Why breed, why die?
These questions all tied up inside
Thoughts without pictures
Looks without seeing
Words without reason
Touch without feeling
Life is your reward
Not to be ignored
Why ask the questions when there's no answer?
Why play the game when there's no way to win?
Why ask the questions when there's no answers?
Why seek the truth when the truth is within
song performed by by Xentrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Questions
It's everything we do while we're here
A fear or a thought, a feeling or a dream
Touch it and taste it, breathe it all in
Say what you feel, things aren't what they seem
Why live, why breathe,
Why breed, why die?
These questions all tied up inside
It's all or nothing or what you make it
A prize or a secret, Which path do you take
Decisions and gambles, a goal to be scored
Risks and lies We all make mistakes
Why live, why breathe,
Why breed, why die?
These questions all tied up inside
Thoughts without pictures
Looks without seeing
Words without reason
Touch without feeling
Life is your reward
Not to be ignored
Why ask the questions when there's no answer?
Why play the game when there's no way to win?
Why ask the questions when there's no answers?
Why seek the truth when the truth is within
song performed by by Xentrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yesterday When I 'Had' Patience
One moment, please.
I think we have a bad connection.
Let me repeat what you just said...
Since I 'know'
I did not hear you clearly.
You expect me,
To tolerate and put up with 'your' nonsense?
To quietly sit and listen to the issues you have,
With your family, their families...
Your neighbors' comments made to you.
And...
My recommendations you dislike.
Because I am not 'sounding' as if I am on your side?
AND when I seek 'your' candid advice...
You find it convenient not to be available,
Because I take up your time?
And you tell me...
I should find less of 'me' in my mind?
Hold up!
I think this connection has crossed the line.
And needs to cease.
If you hear dial tone...
Do not call me back.
From you I am seeking some deep quality peace.
Listen,
Yesterday when I 'had' patience...
And hear this very carefully.
I gave you time and I remember that.
Today I have none!
You have exhausted your free minutes.
And I suggest you kick the cat or 'something'.
But don't bother me.
Find less of 'you' in your mind!
(Click! Conversation over with)
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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435
The Police Officer Arrested Them
Last Night While They Were Strolling On The Park
And This Is The Story:
He Asks For Their Names And They Say They Have None
He Asks From Where They Come From And They Say
They Do Not Really Know
He Asks Them Where They Are Going And They Tell Him
They Are Still Undecided
He Asks Them What Is In Their Bags And They Say They Are Just Nothing
He Asks Them Some More And They Say
They Have Nothing To Say Of Themselves
They Come From Nowhere
And They Are Heading Nowhere
And The Police Handcuffed Them
These Vagrants
These Potential Terrorists Of This Rural Place
Where The People Still Love Peace
And This Afternoon The Police Officer Brings Them All To Me
And He Tells Me About The Whole Story
About His Questions And Their Answers
And I Am Looking At Them And They Look At Me
Straight In My Eyes
With Dignity And Without Shame
With All Pride
That They Are Telling The Truth, The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth
That This One Whose Age Is 16 And This Other One Whose Age Is 18
Are Simply Talking About
Themselves And About Us
And About The Policeman Himself
And Surely, I Agree
We Have No Names, We Do Not Know Where We Come From And We Do Not
Really Know Where We Are Going
We Are All Like That, In The Strictest Sense Of The Word, Except
For Our Little Pretensions
And So I Ordered The Policeman To Release Them All
And Let Them Be Themselves
And Let Them Go In Peace And Finish Their Journey With All Ease
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Is 16 And The Other 18
the police officer arrested them
last night while they were strolling on the park
and this is the story:
he asks for their names and they say they have none
he asks from where they come from and they say
they do not really know
he asks them where they are going and they tell him
they are still undecided
he asks them what is in their bags and they say they are just nothing
he asks them some more and they say
they have nothing to say of themselves
they come from nowhere
and they are heading nowhere
and the police handcuffed them
these vagrants
these potential terrorists of this rural place
where the people still love peace
and this afternoon the police officer brings them all to me
and he tells me about the whole story
about his questions and their answers
and i am looking at them and they look at me
straight in my eyes
with dignity and without shame
with all pride
that they are telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
that this one whose age is 16 and this other one whose age is 18
are simply talking about
themselves
and about us
and about the policeman himself
and surely, i agree
we have no names, we do not know where we come from and we do not
really know where we are going
we are all like that, in the strictest sense of the word, except
for our little pretensions
and so i ordered the policeman to release them all
and let them be
themselves
and let them go in peace and finish their journey with all ease
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Smile
Oh yeah...uh huh...
Lost and all alone,
looking for a reason for being in this crazy world
Trying to go on
lookin for the answers to the questions,
There u were.
From the moment u appeared everything became so clear.
I'm so glad you found me, boy.
Chorus:
I smile when I think about the way you turned my life around.
I smile when I think about the happiness in you I've found.
I'm so amazed at what your love has done.
And when I think the best is yet to come, I smile.
Wandering in the dark, lost in the confusion
I thought I was losin my mind for sure.
I searched w all my heart, lookin 4 direction
Somethin to believe in...
There u were
And you were reachin out 2 me, You were everything I needed.
I'm so glad you found me, boy.
Chorus:
I smile when I think about the way you turned my life around.
I smile when I think about the happiness in you I've found.
I'm so amazed at what your love has done.
And when I think the best is yet to come, I smile.
Cause you've turned all my grey skies to the brightest blue
My life's filled w sunshine and it's all because of u
All because of u
Oh yeah...
Chorus:
I smile when I think about the way you turned my life around.
I smile when I think about the happiness in you I've found.
I'm so amazed at what your love has done.
And when I think the best is yet to come, I smile.
Chorus:
I smile when I think about the way you turned my life around.
I smile when I think about the happiness in you I've found.
I'm so amazed at what your love has done.
And when I think the best is yet to come, I smile.
La la la, oooh...
Oooh, yeah
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Fearful To Fully Grasp
It is much easier for me,
To be very patience with a child...
Asking questions about life.
Than it is for me to answer,
Those same questions asked...
By one who appears to be an adult.
But has a mind of a child.
And the simple aspects of life,
They have yet to experience.
Or too fearful to fully grasp,
With a faith they claim to have...
To explore and adventure.
A living of life to fake it...
Is difficult to explain,
To anyone seeking how best to live it...
On their terms AND with expectations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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