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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Until This Adventure Ends
I have no purpose meant,
To identify and acknowledge...
That which does exist.
With a repeatedness...
That collects dust and sits!
As if I am assigned,
To show others...
How to stunt and rust their minds!
I am only obligated to be aware,
And expand my consciousness.
With an acceptance of a process...
Some who do this,
Have labelled as growth!
With a daring to live life...
And to share the findings that are there.
Until this adventure ends.
Those accustomed to the taste of stale bread...
Seem to always find the time to comment on it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Manifesting In Arrested Sleep
Left behind.
Most have jumped into safety nets.
Held by clinging vines.
And time has stopped.
Minds are blocked.
Onlookers can't believe,
People frozen yet they breathe.
And time has stopped.
Minds are blocked.
Onlookers can't believe,
People frozen yet they breathe.
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
Time has stopped!
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
Minds are blocked!
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
And onlookers can't believe,
People frozen yet they breathe.
Left behind.
Most have jumped into safety nets.
Held by clinging vines.
And onlookers can't believe,
People frozen yet they breathe.
Time has stopped!
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
Minds are blocked!
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
And onlookers can't believe,
People frozen yet they breathe.
Time has stopped!
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
Minds are blocked!
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
And onlookers can't believe,
People frozen yet they breathe.
Time has stopped!
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
Minds are blocked!
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
Time has stopped!
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
Minds are blocked!
Manifesting in arrested sleep.
And onlookers can't believe,
People frozen yet they breathe.
To be left...
Without an empathy to tease them!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For Those Nonaccepting
What is goin on here?
I have never seen so many people,
Walking around with limps.
Using walkers and canes,
As if to prevent them from falling.
And people with prescriptions,
To lessen their mental afflictions.
And the atmosphere is thick with sadness.
What addictions did they get to have them like this? '
'Lieing about others and to themselves.
With a denying of a reality to confront as is.
As long as they can get anyone,
To approve their delusions...
They are happy with their dysfunctions.
And delight in expressing their illnesses.'
WHY do you insist on remaining negative?
'Oh.
Forgive me.
Is there another version you would like to hear?
I do have one I keep to fantasize my observations,
For those nonaccepting...
With closed minds and blocked ears.'
Yeah.
Please.
Let me hear that one.
Lighten it up a bit.
'Once upon a time,
When the little girls and boys were told...
They could do as they please until they grew old.
And...
What it is they should do as long as they should live,
Is to ignore the truth since truth is wicked.
And running away from it is what they should do
Since a listening to it,
Came from those disgruntled.
You know,
Misfits!
And they should regard people like this,
Noncomformists and weirdos and mentally sick.'
Now 'that' is the version I prefer.
'You are not alone.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dependence On Negativity
Your demons have you convinced,
The life you live without me...
Would be better spent,
Not listening!
And the benefit from this,
Affords you to live...
A life lived without comprehension.
One acheived without common sense!
Follow I do your movements from the sidelines.
Hoping one day you will awaken to find...
Wasting time trying to redefine,
How to accept me in your mind...
Has limited you to doubt and misunderstanding.
Deception based upon your perception,
I have plans to manipulate your independence...
Is that continuous inner dialogue you keep,
With your belief a dependency on negativity relieves!
It is you not me living day to day in desperation.
However...
It is your happiness that has been blocked,
And confined.
Not mine!
That is the only freedom I know...
I have here to share with fresh air to breathe.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Still Without Rhythm
Intentional activities,
Come to breathe no new life...
By those of influence,
With narrow eyesights.
And no experience...
Outside of researched and instructed,
Outlooks to compare and grade.
Outlooks...
Taught from books.
To mention good intentions,
When the intent is not visioned...
May excite someone watching paint to dry,
But does nothing for those...
Left ignored,
With innovative imaginations.
And restricted to obey...
Rules penned upon parchment.
To relate to as having a significance,
Documented and adhered.
Like the wearing of wigs,
To hide and deny one's true identity!
As if ashamed.
By the 'evolution' of things.
The ones depicting a certain way of life,
Reflecting a love for horsedrawn carriages...
Seen meandering on cobblestone streets.
May serve a purpose,
For those whose lives are as fresh...
As repeated museum visits to the same exhibits.
With the air inside just as stale.
But having an addiction to things unchanged,
Keeps one to foundations grounded.
However...
Some standards and traditions should be mothballed.
Not resuscitated as if a life lived was then loved.
Yet wasn't.
That is why cemetaries exist.
To bury that which has died from a life which lives.
Many are confused by this transition.
But what repeatedly survives...
Are the narrow minds and diseased philosophies,
That still exist to keep progress restricted.
In a 'let's-live-life-as-it-was-when-darkness-hid-our- flaws'
Syndrome.
Those dancing today and still without rhythm...
Will never have 'it' to know what staying within it means.
They've been out of it observing.
Hoping that the act of 'taking' it and putting it somewhere else...
Keeps an attachment that grows to become familiar.
As if the hearing of a beat will connect to their feet.
No matter if the thumping roars...
A sadness is still observed upon the floors.
Something in the mind is out of sync.
But...
If nothing is felt,
Because of lack of 'soul'...
What is done is as useless as the doer,
Who can not associate what that feeling is...
That is needed.
No one can lay under it...
Like laying under the Sun to camouflage reality!
To then describe what has been obtained,
As healthy.
And yet destroy those with the natural appearance.
Those not baking.
Like those who later sizzle with contempt shown.
Feelings are needed,
If one is to know what the enjoyment of life means.
And that is not a perception delivered by a hired architect!
Or contained in a bottle to release a protectiveness,
One perceives to get.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Over Medicating With A Self Importance
We can't imitate the living of life.
We can,
However.
Prevent others from doing so.
To limit eventually,
Our own growth process.
And the evidence of that,
Does not need a tour guide.
We can't imitate the living of life.
Nor can we insist what is not visible exists.
But so much of life lived is not visible...
To expose to anyone to prove it being done.
Most of life lived when given,
Is based on sheer faith and confidence.
Patience and the giving of sacrificial time.
With the knowing in one's mind.
Something divine is keeping track of the mess,
Human beings have made in attempts to perfect nonsense.
We can't imitate the living of life.
Once one has been blessed with it.
There is something genuine and real,
About the feelings one has.
We can,
However.
Prevent others from doing so.
To leave them to live their own lives.
And allow others to learn and grow,
For the sharing of those experiences.
But many don't get this!
Without that interdependence.
We limit eventually,
Our own growth process.
And the evidence of that,
Does not need a tour guide.
We would rather destroy other lives,
With the enforcement of values and standards...
We perceive with beliefs are best for others,
When in fact.
We are hard pressed to show any evidence,
To convince within our own minds.
Of that working for ourselves.
But an over medicating with a self importance?
We can do with the right prescription.
Not to take but to test.
With the observing of the affects on others.
To arrive at a feeling of perfection.
And that,
As of yet.
Can not be found.
However.
We can always say,
What we believe has been achieved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It would be me
It would be me
Not anybody else
Dear my family, dear my friend
It would be me to live my life
Not anybody else
Though someone I adore
Though someone I really want to be
It would be me who decide my path
Not anybody else
Through my dream, through my hatred
Through my power, through my shame
If I say ‘yes’ some door will be opened, some closed
It would be me which way I choose
If I say ‘no’ some door will be opened anyway, some closed
Not anybody else who face my test
If I ‘m confused some will hurt or gone, some will take a time
Though someone replaces me, though someone is better
It would be me
Not anybody else
Who live now, who breathe this time
In this body, in this mind, with this soul
It would be me
Not anybody else
Though I go hiding somewhere, don’t know what to do anyway
I should live, I would continue my life as long as I still breathe
It would be me
Not anybody else
Who live my life
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fixed As If Cemented
Those who remain with wishes,
To see things as they would choose to view them.
And not how things are.
Since things are the way they have been...
Unchanged and unbending.
Fixed as if cemented.
There is nothing to say,
To those like that.
Those who disbelieve,
Things are not as they are seen.
But 'should' be the way they would 'like'?
That is alright.
Do not frustrate in argument with them.
Your time...
Not theirs,
Is to mellow like fine wine.
Know this!
Others who have had these 'things'...
Just as they are and wish to leave them that way.
Defend their points of view.
Despite what it is you do.
Whether you condone what is done or not.
And it is difficult to get that across to some people.
But not for the few!
Who have chosen their own lives to live.
And have chosen to do the best they can...
To assist,
With any apparent awakening...
Some stand by and expect.
However,
If things as they are as observed are accepted...
By those affected.
And they wish things to be just the way they are?
'Left-a-lone! '
It is better to leave what is seen that way.
ALONE!
Turn away from it and live one's own life.
Frustration free and nurturing one's peace of mind!
Unless?
There is always an 'unless' involved.
Unless...
One has desires to remain in darkness!
And argue about the prospects,
Of a light that could shine...
Between two ears already known closed.
Optimistic people love the concept of options!
Although,
Some narrow minds will never open that wide!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sedated
It's time to dropp hopscotched ideals.
Limited in isolation...
Within the minds,
Of those locked in and boxed.
Guilt rides them with fear.
No sleep comes near them at night.
A contained anger,
Keeps them in beliefs...
Their way of life is right.
Although a solicited greed,
Has pushed them to the brink.
Fading values and standards,
Are spoken of as treasures...
With such a seriousness,
Their fixed eyes do not blink.
Their very existence relies,
On the marketing of decadence.
And once great foundations...
Are decaying more rapidly than common sense.
Guilt rides them with fear.
No sleep comes near them at night.
A contained anger,
Keeps them in beliefs...
Their way of life is right.
It's time to dropp hopscotched ideals.
Limited in isolation...
Within the minds,
Of those locked in and boxed.
Although a solicited greed,
Has pushed them to the brink.
Fading values and standards,
Are spoken of as treasures...
With such a seriousness,
Their fixed eyes do not blink.
As if they have been...
Sedated!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fresh Air Missed
The hold of self defeating leaves,
When one decides a routine should go.
To escape from a place that offers no growth.
And when the excitement of living a life,
Begins to stale...
One should not prevail in that which fails.
A door that stays shut,
Supported by hinges that rust...
Needs only to be opened,
Just once.
Fresh air missed,
To breathe in again...
Can addict.
If one decides,
To experience being in it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mentally Blocked and Forgotten
Mandatory awakenings,
Are eclipsing on the horizon.
Fading fast are thoughts from the past...
And a firm grasp on delusions,
Slip from grips
To be tossed like trash.
Minds are being lifted,
To insights before unknown!
And many will find themselves left behind...
Trying to define their identities,
When enlightenment is all
Those shown will condone!
Leaving concepts no longer existing...
And those resisting feeling quite alone!
Mentally blocked and forgotten.
Roaming the Earth as useless drones.
With no food for thought to share...
Yet providing Vultures an assortment,
Of picked over bones
Once buried deep in despair.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poetry Is Not Just Feelings
i have long said
that there is no definition to poetry
it is
sui generis, a class of its own,
a evolution of meanings and a transfiguration of words
into substances beyond
the limitations of our minds,
if you say that poetry is feelings
what is then
those that we have not even felt and yet
strikes us as
poetic?
an enlightenment for instance
a divine revelation handed in a dream
in the form of metaphors
what about those that strike us
like a red wheelbarrow glazed with the rain
beside those white chickens?
what about those live frogs in the imaginary gardens
of our minds?
what about a new philosophy of life?
or the promiscuity of the glands?
there are no boxes that can contain all these
in one container
let the poem be just a river
going anywhere
let it just be the sea taking us anywhere
let it be the waves
to and fro arriving everywhere
or what? you name it, you 'll have it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Choosing Losses As Their Gains
Too many...
People.
Too many...
Accept life to grieve.
Too many...
Wear their heartaches,
On wet sleeves.
Too many...
In anger.
Too many...
Show hurt and pain.
Too many...
Unsatisfied,
And complain.
Choosing losses as their gains.
And somewhere inside,
They have hidden all their pride.
And the tears flow like rain,
From their eyes.
The Sun comes to shine.
But it's blocked from their minds.
And they welcome the clouds,
Like lost friends.
And the storms on them descend!
Too many...
People.
Too many...
Accept life to grieve.
Too many...
Wear their heartaches,
On wet sleeves.
Too many...
In anger.
Too many...
Show hurt and pain.
Too many...
Unsatisfied,
And complain.
Choosing losses as their gains.
And somewhere inside,
They have hidden all their pride.
And the tears flow like rain,
From their eyes.
The Sun comes to shine.
But it's blocked from their minds.
And they welcome the clouds,
Like lost friends.
This has to end.
Since this,
Unhappiness...
Can't be a choice,
One lives!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Contention
My mouth is blocked,
My eyes are blindfolded and
My ears are closed.
But it is my contention
Perhaps mine alone…
Nobody is there with an ear that hears,
Nobody does anything that I can see and
Nobody says that I have to hear.
I too live a life of yours.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Intimidate The Minds Of Children
I love to intimidate,
The minds of children.
Especially the ones believing,
They know everything.
'But why intimidate them?
You should be encouraging,
Their eager minds to grow.'
Oh...
I do.
I allow them to express to me,
What it is they 'think'.
And then I say something,
Totally nonsensical...
To observed them becoming confused.
That's when their minds are their most creative.
'That's not being supportive.'
And allowing them to grow,
Believing they know 'everything' is?
Without exploring their imaginations?
I want them to be curious.
To be more inquisitive about life.
And that 'is' being more supportive,
Than anything else I can do.
I'm giving them an alternative,
To a lifetime of choosing to being screwed up.
Look what believing they know everything,
Has done to their parents.
You can not tell them anything to comprehend.
Before a sentence is finished on any subject matter,
They want to tell you where they've gone to school.
Where they've been.
And how much they've earned,
From acquiring a college degree.
With planned vacations and retirements scheduled.
'That is success for a lot of people.'
That's an assembly line producing failures.
A life of knowledge is not obtained in college.
And one's happiness is not determined on test scores.
Sometimes one plus two,
Might equal three times the desperation.
Causing one to know more about division of property,
If things don't work out as expected.
And being skilled in mathematics under stress,
Is not healthy for the mind.
Too much evidence of that,
They can find on their own time.
To select and accept or ignore.
Today...
I'd like to see them searching the landscape,
Of vast possibilities.
They are my future too.
And I want them to know that.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Spending Of Their Time
People who do not appreciate,
Their blessed lives.
Or those equally blessed,
God places into their lives.
Hopefully,
They will come to eventually realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In the spending of their time.
Hopefully,
They will come to realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In their blinded minds.
No one can be all-knowing,
If one has never been alone.
Or have been on their own...
To know the true meaning of self-evaluation.
Or value emotional devastation.
If one has not,
Opened up that lock.
If no one takes the time to stop,
To take 'inventory' of their stock...
That seems for them to never come,
With a dropping of a blocking...
That stuns and shocks.
They will never know,
How this affects and hurts one so!
Those me-me, I-I activities...
Isolates the mind.
Sickens the body.
And darkens a lost soul.
People who do not appreciate,
Their blessed lives.
Or those equally blessed,
God places into their lives...
Hopefully,
They will come to eventually realize...
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In the spending of their time.
There is an ungrateful self-centeredness,
In their blinded minds.
And...
In time,
When they are left confined...
Behind.
With no one concerned...
What it is in their lives,
Or on their minds.
They will come to learn to yearn!
In the spending of,
Their time.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!