Suitable For An Agenda
People may choose to believe,
They will punish someone...
For an act disliked that was done.
However,
If what was done consciously...
And with intent,
That punishment delivered...
May be suitable for an agenda,
One does not mention...
But joyfully gets.
We live in those times,
When all beliefs once easily defined...
Can no longer be legitimized,
By our expectations of receiving...
What we perceive as we envision it.
There are those who do things,
Just for the attention...
Others unknowingly give,
To the ones planning their own course...
For something to do to lead those offtrack.
Minds today,
Are not that easily persuaded...
To be led one way,
With a dependable process once used.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Dont Give Up Easily
(hicks)
If a foolish fool like me
Can read you easily
Then something must be wrong
Somethings different when we speak
It seems the past few weeks
Our loves not been so strong
Lovers have always had this problem
Ask anyone, youll see
Weve got to hang on til it passes
Dont give up easily
If we say whats on our minds,
Wed save a lot of time
Dont give up easily
I know youre feeling bad
Sometimes I make you sad
But when youre feeling sad,
Im feeling just as bad
During the good times its so easy
You are in love like me
Sometimes we feel we want to leave it
Dont give up easily
If we say whats on our minds,
Wed save a lot of time
Dont give up easily
Ask anyone, youll see
Theyll say the same as me
Dont give easily
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Something Said Might Make Sense
Two things I have learned not to do!
Give an opinion even if asked.
Or express my beliefs,
To family members who have not a clue...
What it is I do, when it gets done.
Or can connect an aging process,
With experience.
At least,
Not as being factors to one's maturity and wisdom.
I've learned,
Whether relatives or not or just friends...
People become easily offended,
When something said might make sense.
And has credibility!
Especially in times,
When many minds are on prolonged vacations.
And some are stuck in Summer.
Without a Spring, Fall or Winter to recall.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Joan
Power generation
You live up your life and it feels like fire
Suspended in animation
A trick of the light and it drives you higher
Blind vision blind faith
You really can be sold
If you dare to disagree
Its just not within the scheme of things
To give up your life so easily
Thats not the way youre meant to be
What a waste of time and energy
Its just not within the scheme of things(live your life)
To give up your life so easily, easily(Ill be there)
Psychic celebration
Look up in the stars and see venus rising
Rapture, fascination
You live for the night and your own desire
Blind vision blind faith
You really cant rely
On what they tell you for effect
Its not just within the scheme of things(live your life)
To give up your life so easily
Thats not the way youre meant to be(I do care)
What a waste of time and energy
Its just not within the scheme of things(live your life)
To give up your life so easily
Thats not the way youre meant to be(Ill be there)
What a waste of time and energy, energy
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If It Offends
I awakened no longer beholdened,
To those emotional traps.
The kind that others leave,
With expectations...
Something done I did disliked,
Eventually to have me feeling guilt ridden.
And I would then offer an apology.
I awakened no longer beholdened,
To those emotional traps.
Or do something done,
Without being consciously attached.
I use to be the one to forgive and forget.
No matter who said what to me.
To show no concern or expression of a regret.
And I would laugh when publicly,
I was shown nothing but disrespect.
I awakened no longer beholdened,
To those emotional traps.
The kind that others leave,
With expectations...
Something done I did disliked,
Eventually to have me feeling guilt ridden.
And I would then offer an apology.
Well those days do not exist for me anymore.
I say what I mean and if it offends,
I let others know immediately...
Being provoked I don't consider to be a joke.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keep The Intent Of Your Purpose
Although there seems to be,
A slowing done of your focused flow...
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Don't let that motivation go.
Stay true to yourself,
Knowing your beliefs do not deceive.
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Do not let that purpose leave.
It is difficult enough,
To constantly be bombarded...
From those events,
That fuss things up.
It's enough to want to cuss,
Everything believed to be corrupt.
But that 'outside' stuff that is happening...
Has a meaning that should awaken all of us.
Although there seems to be,
A slowing done of your focused flow...
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Don't let that motivation go.
Stay true to yourself,
Knowing your beliefs do not deceive.
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Do not let that purpose leave.
Each day collect pieces,
Of your sanity.
Keep the intent of your purpose.
Be gentle and easily allow yourself to breathe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Confined Within Walls Too Thick To Chip
Their own beliefs drove them insane.
With accusations and denials kept,
Speeding the process.
Blaming others for their hold on stubbornness,
Has left them confined within walls too thick to chip...
Away.
And too high to climb over,
To excape from the madness they have created.
Their own beliefs drove them insane.
And today they rush to have everyone pay,
A price to endure further sacrificing...
With devices used,
To excuse as if 'okay' to have had things done their way...
Has been done too many times for those not to notice,
The minds behind it all.
Their own beliefs drove them insane to keep for themselves,
Alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Provocation
People in the road
I just want to spark the anger
To see how stupid you are
Easily be manipulated
People in the world
I just want to send the danger
To see how afraid you are
Easily be terrorized
People in the cloth
I just want to scratch the fire
To see how well you are
Easily be controlled
People in the slot
I just want to point the liar
To see how shock you are
Easily be distracted
And you will dance in my hand
And I will be laughing behind
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tender Buttons [a Chair]
A CHAIR.
A widow in a wise veil and more garments shows that shadows are even. It addresses no more, it shadows the stage and learning. A regular arrangement, the severest and the most preserved is that which has the arrangement not more than always authorised.
A suitable establishment, well housed, practical, patient and staring, a suitable bedding, very suitable and not more particularly than complaining, anything suitable is so necessary.
A fact is that when the direction is just like that, no more, longer, sudden and at the same time not any sofa, the main action is that without a blaming there is no custody.
Practice measurement, practice the sign that means that really means a necessary betrayal, in showing that there is wearing.
Hope, what is a spectacle, a spectacle is the resemblance between the circular side place and nothing else, nothing else.
To choose it is ended, it is actual and more than that it has it certainly has the same treat, and a seat all that is practiced and more easily much more easily ordinarily.
Pick a barn, a whole barn, and bend more slender accents than have ever been necessary, shine in the darkness necessarily. Actually not aching, actually not aching, a stubborn bloom is so artificial and even more than that, it is a spectacle, it is a binding accident, it is animosity and accentuation.
If the chance to dirty diminishing is necessary, if it is why is there no complexion, why is there no rubbing, why is there no special protection.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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Some Things Done And Delivered
I am sure I have not been the only contributor,
To neither conceive a receiving of flattery...
From contributions presented,
Will obtain a following blissed by this.
Hopefully there is a comprehension established,
By those mature of mind understanding what it takes...
To develop this process they of a consciousness embrace.
But there will always be the ones with beliefs,
Some with a focused determination...
Are not serious in the production of their creativity.
And they will find a way to waste lots of time,
With a choosing to introduce a game playing of minds.
To manipulate attitudes to prove themselves...
Judge and jury of one's thought process too!
However...
A messenger only delivers a message.
And this may be confusing,
To those who take matters in their limited hands.
Perceiving messengers are at their disposal,
To abuse them as if to pursue an undoing.
And from them command with a demanding.
But needless to say,
Some things done and delivered as they come...
Should be accepted and not chased away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Manicured And Stretched Out Hands
A repeating of facts,
Continues to drone on the deaf ears...
Of those not interested,
For what appears to be for them...
Constant badgering delivered with critique.
People have grown accustomed to their laziness.
No matter how constructive the truth,
Many prefer their realities diluted.
And the ones who can present the best arguments,
For reasons to ignore any mention of discomfort...
May gain an attention given to be followed by complaints.
Those familiar with receiving just hugs and kisses,
Are always heard to wish for those times they reminisce.
When offerings of escapades were theirs in abundance.
But today with protests and persistent demands,
Even the basic entitlements once given are slowly fading away.
With or without those manicured and stretched out hands.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Always The 'Who' That Gets One Through
Those who set out to ruin lives,
Consciously.
To then awaken with guilt and expectations,
Consciously.
That an awaiting for a forgiveness given to exonerate them,
Is not on the minds of the ones...
Who have spent time on the other end,
Healing and mending from wounds consciously inflicted...
By those who assume a skipping away from their deeds done,
Is the same wish by someone who has forgiven to forget.
Especially when the suffering with pain is involved.
People may be seen to be completely 'restored' from sorrows.
If recovery actually is done to come.
However...
It was their faith and determination alone,
With a gritting of teeth that got them off their knees.
To remember every detail vividly,
As to how, when, where, why and who...
Put them there in the first place.
And it is ALWAYS...
Always the 'who' that gets one through a process,
Never to be forgotten.
'It's so good to see you healthy and fit.
I am glad you have forgiven me.
You have...haven't you?
Say something.
Why are you smiling? '
~No particular reason.
Just thinking of how I would have handled this,
Years ago.~
'Handled what? '
~My thoughts.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Put Living Life On Your Agenda
Put living life on your agenda!
You may as well.
Things you valued and people trusted...
Seem to all have gone to hell.
It may seem that way,
But it doesn't have to be.
While you were working hard on a 9 to 5,
Others were working behind your back...
Cheating for an easier life,
And lieing and deceiving comfortably...
Day and night!
And if you are angry,
You have every right to be.
However...
You are not alone!
You are not the only one,
Trick by a way of life...
Your standards have condoned.
Put living life on your agenda!
You may as well.
Things you valued and people trusted...
Seem to all have gone to hell.
The first sign of trouble didn't faze you at all.
There were clues laid all over the place...
A decadence beginning was being thrown in your face.
The first time you accepted disrespect from someone...
That was a hint,
At least a clue...
You were not the only one to whom that was being done.
And remember making decisions not to become involved?
You shouldn't have turned your back!
What is happening today...
Could have then been easily solved,
Corrected and kept from attack.
So...
Put living life on your agenda!
You may as well.
Things you valued and people trusted...
Seem to all have gone to hell.
And you really didn't care.
If you did what you should have done yesterday...
Was not to observe the crumbling done around you.
Something said would have prevented it instead.
And none of it,
Would have existed.
So...
Put living life on your agenda!
And get rid of everything else you've been doing.
Because whatever it is you've done,
Has not worked to your advantage.
Not if you are crying about your wants and losses!
You relied upon someone else,
To decide what was valued...
And what was to be tossed away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Résumé Of Deeds To Be Acknowledged
There are many who wear their affectations,
On their sleeves.
They want others to know,
How an artificial and shallow existence...
Is properly lived and communicated.
While those who could easily afford,
Their affectations with a long list of awards...
They have been presented,
With deeds done they represent.
Are the ones least likely to show,
A prestige upon them that has been bestowed.
'Why do you live the way you do?
And...
Where you do? '
Well...
I wish I can say it was from choice.
But today I will say,
I am blessed to have certain choices made...
Upon me forced.
And happily divorced I am from delusions.
What I've done, did and continue to do,
Has its place.
I am not one to carry around with me,
A résumé of deeds to be acknowledged.
'Oh.
So what about your social status,
And 'standing' in the community? '
As...
What?
'You know...
As one of those shakers and breakers,
Who make things happen.'
For who?
'Why...
You of course.'
And...
I need people like that around me?
To do...
What?
Inspire what I've done?
What I did?
Or what I do?
To motivate a promoting of...
What?
An agenda?
Who's?
It couldn't be mine.
My agenda long ago had been prioritized.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lord, how easily we keep You responsible
Lord, how easily we keep You responsible
for every disaster hitting us on this apostate rebel earth
and still You see everything, every moment
that things decay into amok, how touching
we are seeking to a greater worthiness.
Lord, how easily we keep You responsible
and we never think properly,
we at times want to judge You according to our feelings
and still You see everything, every moment
where we act in aberration, at times totally without humanity,
act against other older people.
Lord, how easily we keep You responsible
as if the consequence of our choices and deeds are infectious from You,
to further send us to damnation, bring infection to everyone, even the elderly
and still You see everything, every moment
where we are suffering, are following You or are avoiding, every deed and glance,
where You look into the depths and to You nothing is at face value.
Lord, how easily we keep You responsible
for every disaster hitting us on this apostate rebel earth.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Found On the Receiving End
I extend my hand.
And you examine it,
To see if my nails are manicured.
In the bag,
I've delivered to you...
An assortment of cans of soup.
With a can opener.
Familiarize yourself with it.
And use it as you choose.
You are going to find,
Less attention given to your pretensions.
And more are you going to accept,
Acts of kindness that do not distract.
Especially when your needs,
Become identified in your mind...
To be found on the receiving end!
You will discover a forgiveness,
On the streets...
Has today,
Become an urgent necessity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Destroying The White Knight Syndrome.
Again i hear that desperate plea.
like voices in my head but you are real.
Damn girl you just don't give up that game.
chasing a dream.
if it could be so only so perfect.
but i know that not how things roll.
you know no love for nothing but self gain.
i got the white knight syndrome and want to help.
but i know i must wait for the true intent hasn't been revealed.
if i didn't know you so personally
i wouldn't have stuck around this long.
i wouldn't have been there for you to lean on.
a anchor in ground.
gave you a place to call home when you were all alone.
now its in your hands.
What will you do?
what will you choose?
i can't give my heart away that easily to you.
you destroyed me, and ripped my heart into oblivion.
but we can't have that again.
sometimes i feel its best we stay just friends.
But its not my move.
so what do you do?
so what do you choose? I
got nothing lose either way I'm set.
I don't need anything from you.
but if you ask I'll still come.
not because expecting something
but because i actually care.
I've known you since the age of 13.
but I'm now a man,
and you are a woman whose got a family. a bunch of little ones to raise. three different fathers complicates things.
But whatever it takes.
I'm ready to go on.
and accept that your still not ready to settle down with anyone.
but i, yeah i am.
So lets just keep it friends till i know your true intent.
its your move, so what do you do?
so what do you choose?
divided by the freedom of choice.
connected by friends.
let all this come to an end.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stuck In Their Nonexistent Beliefs
It is difficult to leave behind,
Those whose minds are kept defined...
By times no longer here to breathe.
What keeps them fixed,
With such a stubbornness...
Has many refusing to converse with them.
And abruptly from them people leave.
To find fresh air pollution free.
Rapidly changes are amongst us to see.
To witness and adapt appropriately.
But there are those who will remain,
Stuck in their nonexistent beliefs...
That horsedrawn wagons and cobblestone streets,
Were innovations never to be replaced.
Even when shifting winds...
Show an aging upon their disbelieving faces.
With deep concerns that can be traced...
Back to those times they can not let go!
Yet argue to be heard,
Their way of life for 'certain' people...
Is more than well deserved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No specialty
I have no worthwhile specialty
It may not be considered as good quality
Yet I go on working as ordinary man
Never intend to stop and go as much as I can
History may not take note
No attention may be caught
No worthwhile mention or appreciation
But I will be undoubtedly remembered as simple citizen
No may call me as traitor
Not even mention as bad administrator
They may not frown at me as collaborator
And this I feel is worthy and suitable indicator
I have so many desires
I can’t go on receiving the satires
It doesn’t suit to my style of functioning
As I am afraid of any questioning
What I have in me is my exclusive domain
It may stay with me so long as I remain
Even if some contribution is remembered
I shall deem it as great work and honored
You need become great known leader
People know you more as readers
They have aptness to catch the real nerve
Only we need their sympathy and deserve
Why should I go away from my brethrens?
Why I do such things that can add concerns?
What benefit that can give me as additional security?
I may prove definitely as per my ability
I shall die as unsung hero
As I am made big from small zero
I was not worth even for any status
It is real credit trusted upon us
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Angst Aint What It Use To Be
Every conceivable trick in the book they could use,
Even to amaze a professional magician...
Those seeking attention had done to abuse,
Others who are still innocent with precise deception.
To depict anyone they chose to choose,
As an enemy to successfully accuse.
'How can people like them,
Be defended?
Where does a defense begin...
When their actions reflect,
All lessons taught we ourselves respect.
Without a complete dissecting...
Of a consciousness in need of a thorough process,
We can no longer neglect.'
And then one day,
Misdeeds backfire to expose evil ways.
Face to mirrored face.
With no explanation they could create.
A self examination...
Has never been raised in any debate.
Isolated hatred has been their fate.
In continued divisions...
They have kept separated.
Yet...
With angst in their minds,
They belabor to define their grief.
Proving that angst aint what it use to be...
To just leave behind so easily.
As denials increase...
To keep reality deluded.
And realities deluded always betray.
'Stop pointing your finger at me.
I have a college degree.
I'm not crazy.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those of Childish Minds
Those of childish minds,
I had to sever and leave behind.
They no longer fed my views of life.
I had been hatched from adolescence,
Many years ago...
With an expanding insight.
Rehashing redundant deeds done I did...
I could no longer validate,
Those actions of adults that reminded me of kids!
I began to feel imprisoned,
By this useless activity for me I could not envision.
That began to smother my mental growth...
And its clarity,
Beginning to feel remote and provoked.
I had to sever and leave behind,
Those of childish minds.
They found routine attractive to them.
And within me routine was not meant to be.
I am an adult!
And others who are...
Is a rare find today by far.
Leaving me to wonder,
As my aging process flows...
How gracefully can those grow old?
And where do those of childish minds go,
When an age upon them obviously shows!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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