Sugar Coating The Wholesomeness Of It
How can anyone look at a tree...
And not notice the leaves on it?
It's done!
How can someone not acknowledge,
A greeting said to them heard?
It's done.
Or the disrespect spoken from the lips of children.
And a total breakdown of discipline!
That too is done!
Truth is there.
Available and free.
Perhaps the reason for it not being sought as much...
Or has the popularity that fantasy and delusion flaunts,
Is its attachment and close association with reality!
And many people use that as an excuse not to deal with it!
And today...
Facing truth and reality,
Is more difficult for many...
Than it is to get a child to eat vegetables.
Without sugar coating the wholesomeness of it!
Making it an accepted game to play.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Total Breakdown
Total breakdown.
In respect.
Total breakdown.
In discipline one should get.
Total breakdown.
Of relationships.
Keeping one happy and safe...
Would be a miracle to escape,
Any cracks appearing in it.
Total breakdown.
Of societies!
Without outside interference,
To proclaim how they should or should not be.
Total breakdown.
Witnessed in mentalities.
And bad diets can be the reason.
Bad diets can account for most of these.
Total breakdown.
Complete.
With few left to mend,
The inefficiencies.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Which Is Which
> To beware of the truth.
> Is truth...it, self?
> So, what is truth?
>
> Is truth, true love?
> Or...just a reality?
> To be a man...is that truth?
>
> A man...is reality.
> A woman...is reality.
> To be woman...is that truth?
>
> To have more then one partner
> Is a reality of the world.
>
> Which this world agrees.
> Truth is; in my point of view
> Is what one claims to be truth.
>
> But, the truth is whatever you
> Are doing as I speak.
> A woman is good for the soul.
>
> That truth is very bold.
> A man lives for his manhood
> So I am told.
>
> Is it truth or reality?
> Respect is in the middle of the spectrum.
> Male vs. Female
>
>
> That is truth.
> Man being woman
> A reality.
>
> Woman being man...
> She tries.
> Respect cover both the unreal and the wise.
>
> Truth or reality...we never really
> Give it much thought.
> Maybe it was the way we are taught.
>
> Truth or reality...
> Which is Which?
>
>
> whisperkwane
>
> [email protected]
>
>
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Boycott
All that there is to boycott.
And with a doing of it too.
People for some reason.
Refuse to boycott against ignorance.
Or their acceptance of disrespect,
Not to mention a lack of discipline.
Many feel would intrude,
Upon their rights of entitlement.
But truth as it is spoken.
Offends those who defend,
An anxiousness to censor anything.
That hints to remove them from delusion.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Put On Your 3-D Glasses
When is the pain going to stop?
It is not!
The sugar you've been fed,
Coated the taste of those gumdrops.
You should have long been told...
Long ago when those
Who wanted to...
Were quietly scolded and secretly abused.
When is 'your' pain going to end?
Once again...
It is not!
The anesthesia you've been given,
Can no longer be 'gotten'.
This truth may be rotten,
But you have been forgotten!
Not only that...
You've been used like a doorstop!
OKAY! ?
Get angry if you must.
But the messengers you ushered away...
Brought to you messages,
You neither listened to or obeyed.
That's why you should feel like a whore that's been laid.
Being preyed upon without one cent paid!
And that anger that you display towards me...
Will do nothing to prevent the reality you will see!
The stinging and infliction of it...
Will not be pretty one tiny bit.
The gritting of your teeth and biting of your lips,
Will not restore your way of life that bleeds.
Or an eclipsing of your valued outlook!
Blistering on the horizon,
And bringing with it a reality.
None like you've experienced before.
Since the coming of it has been ignored!
Put on your 3-D glasses.
That's how close it will be!
To touch up close to feel as you breathe.
Of course its presence hurts.
Of course the sight of it upsets...
And too ugly to perceive.
That's what reality is.
Truth stripped of delusion and deception free!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Whose Truth Is Reality?
Whose truth is reality?
And why are the many eyes focused upon it,
Seeing reality quite differently?
With many refusing,
To believe in any of it at all.
It is odd how those say they do know God exist.
With bragging rights about their religious affiliations.
But ask one of them,
When was it they stepped out of their way...
Based solely on their faith?
Do you get a look in return that offends?
Or...
Do you get a sermon to hear,
With scriptures quoted...
To make their beliefs understood.
And for some reason...
Their carrying a Bible should make that clear?
And that question you had asked,
Goes unanswered.
As an excuse is made,
To leave from your presence...
As fast as they came.
And under their breath you are called a name.
People are not up to that task.
Disguising 'your' reality...
They prefer to hide,
Behind 'their' masks!
Whose truth is reality?
Really?
And why are the many eyes focused upon it,
Seeing reality quite differently?
With many refusing,
To believe in any of it at all.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Truthified
It would be great
If the truth
Was not such a tremendous part,
Of our ever growing bout with reality!
People would believe anything
They were told.
A cure for anything
Would be sold on TV.
Accountability?
It wouldn't exist at all!
Disrespect would be accepted.
A diminished mindset...
With a decreased quality of life,
Would prevail!
And lies?
Well...
It would be great
If the truth
Was not such a huge part
Of reality!
There seems to be an overflow of it!
And you know what 'they' say...
About having too much of a good thing?
It just seems 'too' good to be true!
We've been 'truthified'.
And even denial has achieved glouting status!
'Are you being sarcastic? '
Who me?
NEVER!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Eyes Open Have the Ability to See Through Concrete
Too much of it had been ignored.
And now a game played to catch up,
With reality is in full force...
By those seeking rules and regulations.
With something to limit full exposure,
That is easy to document and follow.
But truth and reality are not substitutes,
To be interchanged, exchanged or arranged by delusion.
Lies...yes!
Some perfected.
Deceit...yes!
Sometimes rejected.
But seldom suspected for what it is.
Charades and masquerades...
May be acceptable behind masks.
Truth pursued is strategic free.
And that task uncomfortable...
For the ones assigned to assist those blind!
And anyone who has been introduced to reality,
Becomes immediately aware of its focus.
Nothing about it is hidden behind veils!
Eyes open have the ability to see through concrete.
With penetrating results.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Popularity and Truth
Do you honestly believe,
A truth is spoken to obtain one popularity?
Has grandma ever baked a cake you ate,
To exclaim it delicious...
But thought to hate it later,
Because the taste of it was that good?
And admitting to wanting another slice,
Was too embarrassing to say...
In the presence of others,
Who disliked grandma's directness.
And how that directness was displayed.
Popularity and truth,
Do not normally become a mixture...
One anticipates from a craving to satisfy.
These days people are afraid,
To approach a kitchen or know how hot,
An over can get to experience a staying away from it.
Popularity accompanied by truth,
Rarely gets any votes as a choice people prefer...
With thunderous applause and a cheering heard.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If Truth Is Indeed A Seeking
Whose game is this played,
That increasingly slips away...
From a sacred interest held and portrayed,
As representing the mainstay...
Of an accepted truth,
Today?
Today?
Yet another 'truth' is introduced to debate.
To further dilute those faithful to a meaning.
Was Jesus married and to whom?
And why now is this important,
To those who say they can interpret...
What has been written in a Coptic way?
A language of Afro-Asiatic descendants,
Who are primarily Egyptian and rarely mentioned.
And how many facets are there to 'Christianity' anyway?
With a validating done if a Coptic belief,
Is a version that disputes a more 'acknowledged' relief...
That those Biblical scholars who follow King James,
Have for centuries perceived as being concrete.
Whose game is this played,
That increasingly slips away...
From a sacred interest held and portrayed,
As representing the mainstay...
Of an accepted truth,
Today?
If truth is indeed a seeking,
With a reality that is sought!
And...
Would this invalidate,
Any 'Holy' war that is fought?
To make everyone a hypocrite...
Mentally distraught!
Committed to 'religiously' misfit beliefs.
And incapable of minding our own 'dysfunctional' business.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That's What Happens When Truth Is Spoken
Truth hurts!
That's why the presence of it,
Is scandalized, falsified, denied and fantasized.
Criticized and spat upon and treated like crap!
'You are 'still' talking about truth...
Right?
I just want this conversation to maintain its focus.'
Of course I am 'still' talking about truth.
And that's the tragedy of it!
Even when it is mentioned people want to stop it.
They want to disrupt it with a show of disrespect.
To prove they can throw it indignities.
And to leave it as if that is accepted.
Well...
I say NO to that!
It is NOT accepted!
'You are 'still' talking about truth...
Right?
I just want this conversation to maintain its focus.'
You aren't paying me any attention are you?
That's what happens when truth is spoken!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Collectively In Mindsets Dazed
Nothing regarding truth has been accepted.
Even as it stares them in the face,
It is rejected.
Programmed minds find reality absurd.
And refusing to deal with it...
They believe they show courage and nerve.
But the truth that surrounds them,
Will not be detoured.
And those crazed...
Are collectively in mindsets dazed,
And disturbed.
Like children,
Who will not eat their sugared cookies...
Without something,
Looking like milk...
To them is served!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Not One To Encourage A Response, However...
People in hiding,
With beliefs their unspoken intentions...
'Should' be understood.
Are finding themselves,
Alone with their misguided perceptions.
And there is just too much evidence,
That immaturity accepted to nourish...
Flourishes the environment,
With the presence of too many latrent fools...
Doing the best they can to escape,
From the accountability of their actions.
And people blame the children,
For the boisterous disrespect and ignorance.
I am not one to encourage a response,
However...
Can the minds of today,
Address the depth of a shallowness expressed.
And accept this as a reflection of themselves...
As if to take pride in the reality of their social dysfunctions.
And pretend this existence is clear and free of normalcy.
I am not one to encourage a response,
However...
Hasn't it been time that those delusional find,
Truth in themselves...
As a gift and nothing one has to fear!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Until All Itching Has Been Scratched From It
Truth and popularity do not mix.
In some minds this is an unfit relationship.
And suitable it is to be distanced quick.
Truth and popularity do not mix.
People confronted run and do not sit.
And finding it difficult to be seen near it.
And these are the ones who become upset,
By living lives reflecting their own negligence.
Hiding in denial and deluded by embellishments.
And these are the people who today regret,
Spending their last dime...
To make impressions others forget.
Since impressions themselves,
Leave nothing concrete meant.
Truth and popularity do not mix.
In some minds this is an unfit relationship.
And suitable it is to be distanced quick.
Like that which irritates...
Until all itching has been scratched from it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Having Very Little Fun
There are those
Still wanting to play hide n' go seek!
With truth and reality...
As if in their aging days...
It is okay to sneak a peek!
Wanting to be chased...
Leaving behind excuses left as clues.
They may not know where they are,
Even though you do!
But choose not to!
Let them play...
These adults are the reason,
Most children are lost today!
Let them play!
They will never admit to what they've done.
Even though the rest of us are paying...
At a losing game,
And having very little fun!
Many can claim,
Those actions have brought them none!
With nothing that is gained to show...
Or to prove anyone can win,
When blinded eyes can not see,
What they have ignorantly begun!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Novocaine Free
What world have they been living in?
Not to notice the vanishing,
Of their quality of life slowly diminishing.
It's not as if there were not those who said so.
However...
There were those who chose to deny,
They were vicimizing themselves.
By accepting disrespect.
And condoning its appearance...
As the best yet to get.
While making no demands,
By raising a firm hand against this mess.
And suddenly they wish to stop the bleeding?
Suddenly they wish to see their children disciplined.
Suddenly they value the purpose of higher education.
Thinking now becomes a treasure.
And a comprehension is wanted...
By those who now understand,
What the mind can do when it is used.
And now folks choose to move forward...
With beliefs there will be no pain.
And for these folks it will be unfortunate,
For them to experience...
A reality that comes to them,
Novocaine free.
With no numbing of delusions done,
To trade reality for weekend escapades.
What comes is here to stay!
Prickling with truth to aid those awakening...
From their bouts of charaded amnesia.
Recessed with sweetened fantasies!
'1-2-3...
WAKE UP! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Light of Weight
I am not here to hold anyone's hand.
Or to play mushy goody...
With those who have sensitivities,
I don't quite understand.
I've come to raise and enlighten my consciousness.
Not to play childish games with those,
Who like to dress up and masquerade...
Parading to be someone else they wish.
Or raise the minds of children...
To stay 'children' and be 'good'.
Any child of mine I want responsible.
I want to see them grow to become assets,
To any neighborhood.
Like mature adults should!
Today I observe,
So many trying their best to stay young!
And making excuses for what they do.
As they seek acceptance for it too.
With no desire to overcome...
Their stunning and numbing dumbness.
I see those selected to lead...
But only if they are liked!
And as a result of this...
No growth at all is in sight!
I see irresponsibility with disrespect accepted.
I see a total breakdown of humanity.
With none of this rejected!
As those of 'insight' despised and dejected.
I observe a pitifulness...
In my life I resist!
I am not going to put up with it!
Nor do I condone,
Those who do not make their feelings known.
I may be viewed a maverick...
One who is light on substance.
And perhaps light of weight.
But I appreciate my life...
Free of nonsense and those who are fake!
This is not the experience I wish to be served,
On my challenging and demanding plate!
And to those who see,
I have no appetite for these scenes?
Can call me light of weight.
And light on substance...
They may feed and satiate!
But don't get in my face to say it.
I am very capable to dish...
Anything I decide that is delivered,
I wish to dismiss!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fantasy Is Reality/bells Of Madness
Sunset blood drained from the sky
Desires found the night to die
But when I hear the bells of madness ring
I will listen to the silence
Love is louder than anything
And peaceful in its violence
Serious in making chains
The voices of greed all sound the same
But when I hear the bells of madness ring
I will listen to the silence
Love is louder than anything
And peaceful in its violence
Fantasy is reality
I love my fantasy
Reality is fantasy
Just dont call it reality, oh no
Tunnel pain is falling fast
Into the fear that time will last
But when I hear the bells of madness ring
I will listen to the silence
Love is louder than anything
And peaceful in its violence
Im so tired of the lies they tell
Find the truth they cant buy or sell
But when I hear the bells of madness ring
I will listen to the silence
Love is louder than anything
And peaceful in its violence
Fantasy is reality
I love my fantasy
Reality is fantasy
Just dont call it reality, oh no
song performed by by Wilsons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poised To Be Teased
Poised to be teased,
Are 'most' of the people.
The others...
Have totally blocked out reality.
Nothing remotely connected to truth,
Will these folks believe.
And...
There are those who who actually,
Prefer and seek to be deceived...
Than to accept anything,
Close to hinting ofm any reality.
And those who were bred,
To have mush for brains...
Will have nothing to do with what truth contains.
Forget introducing a thought process.
Many more accept medications,
To provide their fantasies...
Exclusive access.
Yes.
Poised to be teased,
Are 'most' of the people.
The others...
Have totally blocked out reality.
Nothing remotely connected to truth,
Will these folks believe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Remotely Distanced
Discussing reality brings many to a sadness.
So remotely distanced from truth...
A life without delusion pursued,
Is not a life lived.
And many today refused to do it.
Fed on elitest ideals and dreams,
With luxurized lifestyles...
In condos with high walnut wooden beams,
Is how many see their purpose.
Surrounded by materialistic 'things'.
And things without enlightenment,
Is a life lived incomplete and empty.
With a seeking of sympathy...
When things are taken away from them and gone.
As complaints from them placing blame on others...
Goes on and on and on and on!
Discussing reality brings many to a sadness.
So remotely distanced from truth...
A life without delusion pursued,
Is not a life lived.
And many today refused to do it,
Too.
Choosing their own sanity to maim.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Distant From A Discipline Given
Rudderless and left to float...
Our children today,
Are left with emotions remoted.
And devoted to show,
The little they know about life.
With a disrespect...
Close but yet so distant from a discipline given.
With expectations limited to a failure praised...
And parental guidance,
Are never questions amongst themselves raised.
Well,
Simply put...
Many of our children today,
No longer fantasize about having strict parents.
Or...
Think of it,
As a human betrayal...
Omitted from their existence.
Rudderless and left to float...
Our children today,
Are left with emotions remoted.
And devoted to show,
The little they know about life.
With a disrespect...
Close but yet so distant from a discipline given.
And 'we',
Seem so afraid...
To be their example of mature adult men,
And no nonsense taking women!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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