That Has Not Been Your Objective
I will not slip into wickedness,
Because that is what you wish.
Nor will I pray to be forgiven of sins.
Or temptations you have teased me with.
I am not the one,
To be conditioned how to live.
With your beliefs thrown upon me,
To keep me feeling of myself as negative.
This process you have chosen,
To diminish my identity.
Will never sit well...
With contradictions you uphold.
And do not dispel.
But choose to dangle in front of me,
As a process of an equality.
And to find within restrictions,
A limitation to place my need to be me...
Will never satisfy an acceptance of a life,
That is mine!
With a pride and dignity I carry inside.
With a presence I do not seek for you to define.
To you I do not owe an existence,
By which I will sit in a wickedness...
Inflicted by your wishes,
To teach as lessons preached.
In sermons from pulpits to have me reach...
For wings in the beyond.
While you use my ignorance,
To leech from me my freedom?
In a continued display that maintains disrespect.
And you want me to believe,
This is all I can expect?
If ever you see me on my knees...
Not a vision of you do I have,
Coming to my aid with aims to please.
And blessings I have received from God,
Has taught me the clarity of that!
You are not the creator of my breath.
Or separate dreams kept,
To fulfill you can meet to satisfy or have met.
And I have known that has not been your objective!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Pre-Conditioned
Most of us,
Have been pre-conditioned...
To find good jobs.
Odd or not...
But that job sought,
We eventually got!
Instead of creating them.
Most of us,
Had been in that position.
And pre-conditioned...
To look for something already there.
Without paving a path with motivation.
Hoping what we did...
Secured us for years,
And would last!
Passing along that abstraction,
To our 'kids'.
Most of us...
Seek approval from some.
To find out from them,
If they accept what we've done.
Most of us...
Live lives confused.
And sit to await...
For that sacrifice to be appreciated.
With a love developed to sing the blues...
Feeling distraught and sometimes used.
And others who seem to fulfill their dreams...
Are often the ones who come to stun,
Some,
Who complain nothing for them changes.
Becoming strangers...
Even to themselves.
While those of us stay pre-conditioned,
To superstitions and beliefs.
And tied religiously,
With pleas to relieve us from sorrow and grief.
Fixed in prayer,
And down on our knees.
Stuck without movement...
As if sealed,
In concrete!
Hoping God...
Will bestow upon us our desires!
With His understanding...
We are obedient as we sit.
To observe a miracle!
And demanding He delivers it.
Leaving God to wonder what it is,
We wish.
Since He has not seen,
Any evidence of those on their knees...
Applying any elbow grease,
And/or working towards it!
Whatever it is that is wished.
Knowing His creations are here to benefit.
With the aid of His assistance.
And He too waits...
To see who takes the initiative!
And most of us,
He knows.
Just don't get,
This process.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Self Inflicted Issues
When an environment of people,
Are taught and conditioned...
To accept ignorance and disrespect themselves,
With a freedom to do this and integrity they lack.
The expectations of them healing from their ailments,
And self inflicted issues...
Is not going to happen with a waving of a magic wand.
When minds are noticed to be hypnotized and absent,
Of nonexistent identites...
Those people look at themselves as the enemy.
When an environment of people,
Are taught and conditioned...
To accept ignorance and disrespect themselves,
Those people look at one another as the enemy.
When an environment of people,
Are taught and conditioned...
To accept ignorance and disrespect themselves,
Those people look at one another as the enemy.
When minds are noticed to be hypnotized and absent,
Of nonexistent identites...
Those people look at themselves as the enemy.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stripped Completely
They've allowed their ideologies,
To ruin their lives to be lived free and pleased.
With the cross breeding of religions.
And practiced beliefs...
A forgiveness relieves them from repeated sins!
From tarnished pulpits preached to remind them.
Devoted to motivating lusts.
Driven by the marketing of temptations.
And soothed like trained mice...
Taught and conditioned.
To be controlled.
Accepting they do,
What they been told.
And stripped completely from those identities...
Few are bold enough to strut.
And behold...
Without being corrupted!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You See Life With a Wish to Leech
You,
Are much too negative.
And you wish to impose it,
Upon those who oppose it.
You,
See life with a wish to leech.
To satisfy selfish whims.
You are in it to gain.
Not to lose but to win.
And there is nothing wrong,
With desiring success.
But you wish it to be given...
Believing the taking of it,
Brings you a happiness.
You,
Are much too negative.
And you wish to impose it,
Upon those who oppose it.
You,
See life with a wish to leech.
To satisfy selfish whims.
You are in it to gain.
Not to lose but to win.
No matter who you choose,
To endure your sufferings.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sought to See With Wishes Granted and Seen
I am indeed,
Not the perception...
But the belief.
I have been then conceived.
I have been freed of invisibility.
To experience and touch sensations.
Explore temptations and grow from them.
Not to become corralled or restricted,
Within barriars of sins...
Depicting those who are wicked.
Preached by those who pocket from such grief.
And cursed to smother under clouds of sorrow...
Are those who sermonize to lust and leech their evils.
What teachings would leave those to feel dark,
And gloomy?
To feed unlimited greed.
I am indeed,
Not the perception...
But the belief.
I am that spiritual connection.
Sought to see with wishes granted and seen.
Given touch to love and satisfy.
And I express these blessings with much gratefulness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Else Have You Selected?
Who else will I face,
To come into my life...
My Father?
Who else have You selected?
For me to share,
As we together...
Within Your vision please.
Who else comes to teach...
Lessons taught to instill,
For me to learn?
Who will You deem to be qualified...
To ignite that spark I yearn?
Who comes to confess,
The void in my emptiness they can fulfill.
Who will that be coming not to exhaust,
My patience
To recognize from my eyes...
They have come with God given skills.
Who else will I face,
To come into my life...
My Father?
Who else have You selected?
For me to share,
As we together...
Within Your vision please.
Others have come for shortened visits.
Will You pick someone admired for Yourself?
To have me grieve upon their leaving...
As it seems You have done,
With everyone else.
To see how quickly I can heal...
With just You to turn to,
For a comforting you know appeals!
And after testing my loyalty...
Will You again,
Introduce another someone...
You will have me meet,
Just for me?
Or will You throw upon my path another test?
Just to tease to see if I love You best?
Who else have You selected?
For me to share,
As we together...
Within Your vision please?
And 'why' do You do this,
To me My Father?
Don't You believe,
I'm deserving of someone...
Not for You to scrutinize.
But a companion who is special...
To meet and satisfy our human needs.
Before You put me through another test,
Who else have You detected...
That I might select,
Just for me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Valued Spit
There are several things that can be done...
To remind some of a wickedness,
That has been in existence.
And applied upon the receiving lives of those,
Who may witness this wickedness...
Coming to an end for them!
But not on the mind,
Of one who has feelings...
Open and exposed!
Forgiveness may be the choice...
Of those not inflicted.
In 'their' minds these crimes should be forgotten.
Believing their souls...
With good deeds performed,
Will be lifted.
An eye for an eye...
Tooth for a tooth.
Just doesn't seem to be proper compensation,
When dealing with those
Who have chosen attitudes uncouth!
A boiling anger still seems to steam!
Fresh and unsettled.
A brewing stews within this kettle!
A satisfying solution for one whose heart aches...
Would be to break every bone,
Of the one who did the wickedness.
And let it be known...
A delight was excited when breaking each bone!
And not with just the stomping...
Or the crunching done,
Alone!
However...
That pain heals.
Even if one is reduced into unconsciousness!
When something done scars,
For the rest of one's life!
Even wishing a slow death to another...
Doesn't fulfill with promise,
To quench one's thirst to see blood shed.
Or in time,
Forgets that appetite to see one dead!
It lingers there inside one's head!
And...
Is it worth it,
To give someone that evil...
Your energy?
People like this,
Aren't worthy of a valued spit!
Even when that's done,
Cursing comes to the lips!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is A Leech
A leech feeding,
Could care less off of what it feeds.
It is a leech.
Feeding to satisfy its own need.
To do what it pleases...
Eat to feed itself to then move on.
And anyone observing a leech in action,
Is not going to convince that leech to share.
The awareness of the leech doing that is not there.
A leech feeding,
Could care less off of what it feeds.
It is a leech.
Feeding to satisfy its own need.
To do what it pleases...
Eat to feed itself to then move on.
It is a leech!
Born and taught to exist for what it is!
It is not a care provider.
Or a nourishing vegetable,
Loaded with beneficial vitamins...
Benefiting the mind and physical wellbeing of mankind.
No,
It is not!
It is a leech.
That's it.
Defined by its own circumstances.
And programmed to identify,
What it has to do to survive.
And once it knows what it is,
It is not going to be anything else.
No matter how lengthy the therapy sessions.
Or the sacrifices others make...
When the activities of the leech begins to become outsourced.
A leech is a leech!
Nothing more.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Consumed Within the Process
Consumed within the process
That process we call life.
Immuned? Not from this process.
It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed within the process.
That process we call life.
Immuned?
Not from this process!
It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.
Closing its eyes only when it wishes,
To call itself out!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
It keeps the vision in precision,
Until it's in 'all' sights.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
It keeps the vision in precision,
Until it's in 'all' sights.
Consumed.
Within the process.
Just consumed.
Within the process this process.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Could. I Would. And, I Will...
In a flight that has never grounded me,
To relate to life in physical limits.
To perceive an existence,
Bombarded with restrictions.
An acceptance of that...
I would not allow to weigh on my back.
Different,
I had been depicted.
But a resistence to this,
Did little to prevent my wishes...
To fulfill and make real,
Those reachable dreams.
I could. I would. And, I will...
See!
With a confidence driven by nail biting sacrifice.
And a discipline applied day and night...
To make my creative beliefs come true.
They just would not let 'me' let 'them' go.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dictation Done
If there is anything experience teaches,
To those who have gone through that process...
With a final acceptance of lessons taught,
Is this...
No matter where one goes with an experienced life,
Achieved through the benefit of failure...
Sometimes repeated.
And lessons learned that have been taught.
Those who seek comprehension,
Will never find time to be bored.
And will one day discover their observations,
Are the ones that are eagerly sought!
Since so many others seem to be awaiting...
A school bell to ring and an announcement made,
That a thought one initiates should soon begin!
With a dictation done that has nothing to do,
To provide one with the tools to use common sense!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Is the Kind of Life
We all interpret life,
On our own terms.
What is accepted...
Rejected and neglected,
Is a process that is taught.
This 'show and tell' conditioning,
Is learned and consciously sought!
We are born to believe,
What is fed to us.
This 'feeding' is received...
And what is perceived,
We with others retrieve with like minds!
Preferring to find those of the same kind,
With like 'experiences' shared without fear!
And fear keeps us all indoctrinated to accept doubt!
Isn't that what marketing peace is about?
With the realization it will never be found...
As we rely on the production of conflict and confusion,
To always be identified!
Knowing that as well as we do.
And hoping this in our lives stays around!
We all interpret life,
On our own terms.
What is accepted...
Rejected and neglected,
Is a process that is taught.
This 'show and tell' conditioning,
Is learned and consciously sought!
And is kept alive to thrive...
In comfort zones,
Until the day we die!
Leaving those who defy these 'truths'...
Spilling their guts out in confession booths.
Or squeezing themselves to sit in pews...
As they listen to hypocrites from pulpits preach,
To leech on minds already screwed and confused!
And this is the kind of life,
We all have come to love!
Listening to teachings,
That 'demons' from hell have no wings...
Allowing to be demoralized on Sunday,
Learning more about the devil...
As we hear these 'disciples' sing!
And this is the kind of life,
We all have come to love!
We all interpret life,
On our own terms.
What is accepted...
Rejected and neglected,
Is a process that is taught.
This 'show and tell' conditioning,
Is learned and consciously sought!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Must Learn We Can Detach From Our Burdens
Within these vessels kept that are our temples,
Sacred.
Although treated with neglect.
We should clear the debris each day with faith.
With prayer to be forgiven.
And a desire to be cleansed,
Of addicting temptations.
On a daily basis.
In respect of the life that has been given.
It isn't easy feeding on teased wishes.
To satisfy that which temporarily pleases.
Or to maintain our insights,
To be kept full with light.
Instilling our hearts with brightness...
Day and night!
But if a routine becomes part of our appetites,
Our journeys will benefit.
Decreasing that which is wrong.
With a clarity of that,
Which sheds more light on the right.
To heighten our minds with enlightenment.
With an acknowledgement that comes to comprehend this...
We do not sit alone in our anguish!
And,
We must learn we can detach from our burdens!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cut and Separate Quick to Split
There are those who believe themselves chosen,
To hold up the process of one's life.
They are the ones who elect to be understood...
With no comprehension or faith to do things.
Not the way they should be done.
Unless they have a say...
In which way they decide,
What has to be done for them is right.
And something that initiates,
A feeling of false pride.
Even though what gets done,
Is at a time that arrives too late for some.
With an expectation for others they delay...
Should sit and wait with a patience,
That has become frayed.
Strained and frazzled.
Or...
They wish to debate uselessly,
Over that which should have taken place.
And wasting as much time as they can,
To be understood!
'For goodness sake!
I am not the cause for this reaction! '
When folks like this,
Began to flaunt excuses to abuse and disrespect...
Never acknowledge what it is that they do,
Because from you they will determine...
You have become accustomed to their neglect!
And from you expect apologies.
Sever yourself from these kinds of people.
Cut and separate quick to split...
From this addicting BS.
And have none of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Immaculate Myths
We all have been seduced to perceive...
A virginity preserved,
After the act of sex should be believed.
Indignities are shared,
And inflicted to ostracize...
Those we choose to victimize,
For not keeping their temptations fully disguised.
But glaring from pulpits,
Is a venomized ignorance inflicted.
Torturing minds and defining sins.
Microscoped and penalized are those of leadership.
All of us have arrived here sweating up sex.
And those of pretensed forgettable values...
Project our leaders should walk on water,
And yet not get wet!
These immaculate myths,
We are conditoned to accept...
As if human beings are flawless.
In need of severe suffering imposed,
In public exposure to get whipped!
There are contradictions,
Within themselves hypocrisized.
And enforced!
But difficult to admit...
Who is there amongst us is perfect?
You?
With your imperfections,
Feeding conflict!
Inspired by:
Baba Kazembe (Mr. Wesley Smith)
Hartford, Connecticut
'Thank you for this 'insight', Wes'
Lawrence
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Through An Osmosisness
Unconscious assimilation,
To seduce one into conversation?
Perhaps.
But there are some with realities,
Who are distorted by facts.
And few comprehend that,
When they allow...
The comfort of their delusions,
To sit back and relax.
I have earned the right to express my identity,
With much flair if I dared.
From dawn 'til noon until midnight.
And doing it aware that I have not a care.
And if anyone expresses I do this and declare,
My arrogance to be unbearable.
And a dignity I pride...
Begins to choke with a coolness I carry.
As if I owned the air!
So be it!
If I flaunt a bit of obnoxiousness.
I've earned all of it.
The identity I pride with the dignity I don't hide.
I am not here to defend every step I've taken.
Nor those experiences life to me has personally given.
'Oh!
I can understand how you feel! '
Is that right?
What part of my life have you lived that delights?
And what hour of which day...
Have you said to yourself,
'Ignore what others say.
Keep your faith it will be okay! '
'Well...
I don't have to go through that process,
To understand what others go through! '
Hmmm.
I see.
So you're one of those folks who live vicariously?
Through an osmosisness done.
And challenging all obstacles that come?
'Well...
I don't have to go through that process,
To understand what others go through! '
Hmmm.
I see.
So you're one of those folks who live vicariously?
Through an osmosisness done.
And challenging all obstacles that come?
'Well,
I don't have to...
Forget it.'
That just expressed,
I can understand and accept.
As from you confessed.
There is no need to further address,
Your comprehension to suggest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Has To Be Witnessed To Be Believed
There are those who choose to represent,
The best subservience that can be found around.
This is more noticeable in smaller towns...
Where people live with big city dreams.
And their minds have been conditioned,
To not achieve anything more than medocrity.
And expect even less from those chosen.
To show their blatant disrespect with flagrance.
It has to be witnessed to believed.
And when one speaks of the effects,
Of this atrociousness...
One becomes despised as if a tradition exposed,
Has been severely compromised.
Like the keeping of an unflushed toilet as a symbol,
Of achievement.
It has to be witnessed to be believed.
And walls are built to surround this filth,
To hide and keep those lies alive in the bowels...
Of these 'communities' unseen,
In the midst of manicured surfaces.
To allow the nourishment of maggots to come and go,
As they damn well please.
It has to be witnessed to be believed...
That such unconsciousness perceives,
This activity achieves a certain purpose.
'And what is that purpose? '
A control over a divine and global ignorance.
To keep those enriched with their wickedness.
With a show of total disregard for the Creator!
Agitating...
A massive appearance of Super Intelligent Beings
To descend!
Saving this planet from complete destruction,
By such mindless fools.
It has to be witnessed to be believed.
And the outcome will not be prolonged in debates.
To allow incompetent jovial jestures to compensate,
For one's lack of a conscious comprehension.
These 'folks' are above and beyond those plateaus!
It has to be witnessed to be believed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Now Here So Vivid
Here so vivid,
Is the experience of life given.
So vivid too are those disparities.
To allow others,
The giving of an invitation...
To come and do,
Then to go as they please.
How vivid are the actions,
On others performed.
To take what they thieve...
And upon themselves adorn.
Enriching with an enhancement,
From the day they were born.
Here so vivid,
Are atrocities.
So atrocious in implementation...
An acceptance of it,
To gather lives to ruin...
As if in a playing of monopoly.
And the game inflicted does not go away.
It stays and commands to become obeyed.
With restrictions that exist,
Using religious beliefs...
As a means to control,
In the spreading of a wickedness...
To maim and defeat,
Those depicted as enemies.
Here so vivid,
Is the experience of life given.
So vivid too are those disparities.
To allow others,
The giving of an invitation...
To come and do,
Then to go as they please.
Using deception to promote misdeeds.
To witness those doing this...
Eventually,
Unravel from their own intricate...
Strategic complexities.
Now here so vivid,
Are those so unwise.
So vivid with a clarity...
Are those removed from their disguises.
To become recognized and themselves despised.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Repeat...
Repeat...
If there is no serenity being received,
In the divinity being preached...
To you in such excess.
Something is missing,
From the listening process.
There are too many claiming,
To have this access that's exchanged.
Observed is a continuance...
Increasing a confusing mess that's gained.
Whatever is being confessed,
In these 'obsessions' one has and receives...
Where are the blessings being bestowed,
To spread from these 'sessions'
Digested and professed
When congregations
Disperse and leave.
Repeat...
If there is no serenity being received,
In the divinity being preached.
Many are not about in an outreach,
From the preachings observed...
Heard and 'suppose' to teach!
Leaving after being 'served'
With a 'wholesomeness' from these 'cliques'.
Are people who are full of themselves,
Making it apparent...
They are nothing more than hypocrites!
Repeat...
If there is no serenity being received,
In the divinity being preached...
To you in such excess.
Something is missing,
From the listening process.
There are too many claiming,
To have this access that's exchanged.
Observed is a continuance...
Increasing a confusing mess that's gained.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Experiment Experienced As Life
Split divisions within divisions split.
Tattooed decisions made,
To brand and pierce skin...
Without regard,
For these 'vehicles' we ride inside.
Gifted...
Yet to us we've been loaned.
To thoughtlessly do,
Those misdeeds we've shown.
Increasing a disrespect and value for life,
To dispel that this is a fact that's known.
As we diminish our influence on Earth,
With a disbelief there is no Supreme Deity...
Observing every speck we leave unconsciously,
From birth.
To displease this Almighty 'Deity'.
As we refuse to take flight to greater heights,
Flown!
In exploration.
Not condemnation.
To sow as grown and harvested.
And we wonder why our treasured life...
Speeds ever so rapidly,
Towards a meeting with a demise...
We seem to have chosen with blind eyes!
Prone to be conditioned to acceptable limits.
And pray, we do, to have things our way.
Disobeying every sign that has displayed...
WHAT controls!
WHAT rules and commands.
And WHAT can end it all one day!
To dismiss this experiment experienced as life,
Symbolized to rituals fixed and worshipped.
Since we have yet to perceive,
A Magnificent Deity conceiving...
Our fragile existence as nothing,
To sacrifice.
Because we do not pride ouselves,
With a gratefulness.
Although...
For a Creator of such Awesome Power,
Prepared to deliver without hesitation...
What is seemed we most want and wish,
To give us and be done with it as asked...
And quick.
With such a Divine swiftness.
Never to disappoint those saved and serving,
In an observing faithfulness kept.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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