The Constant Reporting Done of Threats
The constant reporting done of threats,
To advance fear in a projected animosity believed.
Intentionally keeps the mind tunneled visioned...
In acts to protect,
Effectively one's nest...
Constantly.
And,
Makes a life lived in search of 'peace'...
Great marketing for those,
Who seek a hatred kept to keep.
With weapons made to be sold!
For the ones working up a sweat that upsets.
For the purpose to reflect,
A bravery known to be courageous and bold.
The constant reporting done of threats,
Creates an indulgence...
Of an increasing release of evil,
With a slice of exciting devilment...
One is prodded to expect to get.
By those who are skilled...
In the playing of war games,
As if in a tournament of chess.
With a hunting done of enemies.
And those proclaimed to be terrorists.
Yet...
It is the quality of life,
That suffers from insurmountable limitation...
From behind locked doors.
Yet...
It is the quality of life,
Harvesting strife and devastation!
To ensure division and distrust,
Becomes heightened on all shores!
To produce.
An inducing attraction for honorable death.
Oozing life from every...living...pore...that's yours!
Until the numbing affect becomes accepted.
Until no one living,
Lives...
To reject it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Threats To Keep A People In Grief
How can we seek solutions...
When our denials love to bask,
In a pleasing done by deceit.
How can we non-fictionalize our lives,
When fiction is all we seek.
How can we ever expect to accept the truth,
When none of it is believed.
And how is a greatness once perceived,
So willing to feed decadence...
And allow conflict and division succeed.
All of these may be questions!
But the opportunity to answer them,
Become threats to keep a people in grief.
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Why Are There Complaints?
I don't understand!
Aren't we living the lives folks demand?
Our sons are encouraged
By our daughters to be 'bad'!
'He's so bad! Just like a boy! '
We teach our children the love of weapons...
From daily games,
And given as Christmas toys.
'I thought Jesus was of peace?
And no where around the manger was there a sign
Of retaliation! '
I sat in one church...
And heard the devil's name repeated over and over again.
It was not clear what was being worshipped...
Introduced or enforced!
We speak of fellowship as if 'that' should be a religious movement,
Instead of a natural occurence!
And the values of standards, quality of life and traditions?
Please...
Entertaining lust and temptations!
Those are the foundations supporting the walls of shopping malls!
And television has been the marketing savior for greed!
Let's get 'real' about infesting delusions with teased fantasies!
I don't understand!
Aren't we living the lives folks demand?
Then why are there complaints of any kind?
Oh...
I see!
Bigots who are racists perceive,
They are not satisfied unless others unlike themselves,
Are deprived?
This has been a tremendous marketing strategy,
That has brought the current economy to grinding halt!
No wonder those bad terrorists and enemies,
Endangering this way of life have to be stopped!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pocketing a Dollar
It's the season of terrorists threats.
When the government wont let...
Spirits of happiness flow,
Without fear to inflict.
And bestow.
And when the New Year comes around,
Just like the Fourth of July...
When the biggest crowds gather to celebrate.
With fireworks and other loud bursting sounds...
Not a word of terrorists,
Or their threats...
Are heard or shared!
Those are not the times for them to be declared,
There or anywhere.
And when those who filled the air,
With these fears and threats to scare...
Are gone.
So will the massive corruption,
And the sadness of their destruction...
Leave.
To remind those grieving.
And those of a clearing consciousness,
Will come to their senses and see...
How those of criminal minds,
Have found much wasteful time...
To plot, plunder and pillage.
Being as they are...
Treacherous, evil, deceitful demons and mean.
Traitors of a democracy depleting it with their greed.
When it comes to pocketing a dollar to loot...
And delute a quality of life of those still holding on.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Put Down Your Weapons!
Put down your weapons...
And the ammunition fed,
To spread your hatred!
On whose souls do you believe,
Are crushed to bleed as you succeed...
In what?
To do what for who and why?
The selling of an advance life...
To live in a living hell to dwell?
To raise more of it as you see fit?
Put down your weapons.
What peace is received by depleting the Earth?
With a mental disease perceiving a self worth.
What is it you think is being achieved?
In an atmosphere of religious differences...
With falsities conceived
To reveal racist contempt!
From misconceived interpretations meant,
To explore your won destruction?
To allow a rise to the top to breathe,
Hollow victories...
That leaves a quality of life left to bleed.
To say there has been 'something' conquered.
Put down your weapons!
Confess your digressions.
Put down your weapons!
At let God restore your mind...
To a peace you say you fight to find.
Put down your weapons.
Or all life once known,
Will be left behind to rot to dust...
From which the Earth it came!
Before your selfishness grew to be shown!
To display your degradations?
Last chance!
PUT
DOWN
YOUR
WEAPONS
Put them down!
And learn from past lessons.
They are all around.
With everyone trying to prove themselves,
The greatest of fools!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Where Has That Quality Of Life Gone Today?
Those that grow old but not 'up',
Live lives in recycled patterns.
A process that benefits routine...
Within set limitations,
That have come to demean common sense.
Those living to break away from those 'molds',
Had been referred to as nonconformists at one time.
Now the 'mavericks' have replaced them,
With no concern for the quality of life.
And when nonconformists were shunned...
They sought a better way of life for everyone.
And many attempted to do this,
Without the purchasing and selling...
Of illegal weapons such as guns.
And where has that quality of life gone today?
To the pleading of the needs of those greedy...
Who have left that quality of life stray,
Into corrupted decay.
With other 'necessities' politically and religiously valued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Another Hit For That Fix
When did the living of life,
Become the sole purpose...
To acquire things?
With a desiring that hypnotizes.
When was it that a stress accepted,
To impress others...
Leave such a disappointing affect,
That left our attachments addressed...
More valued than human beings neglected?
And who was it that decided what we possessed,
Would be taxed to never own?
To deluded ourselves and others shown.
As we condone those brave who fought our wars,
On foreign shores...
To needlessly sit hungry and homeless,
Upon city streets and curbs.
As if deserving of it to ease our nerves.
What ignorance qualified itself like this?
To become for us prioritized and not resist.
And to demand with expectations,
A picking of our own choice of entitlements.
With a decision to place insanity,
At the top of our wish list to ensure its existence.
When did the living of life,
Become the sole purpose...
To acquire things?
With a desiring.
That leaves us hypocrites hypnotized.
To feel we have rights to judge and criticize.
And today with a worship of it we can not rid.
Like addicts we pray to get another 'hit' for that 'fix'...
To satisfy that high we get.
With a numbness prescribed and legally authorized,
As we are fed our dysfunctional way of life is envied...
By those we are taught seek to take away our greatness.
And that's why they do their best to fight against us,
As we select which ones are our enemies living on their land.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Inner Life
Life hangs on life inner,
It corroded the life we have told,
Just death brings all time a shove,
Then shovels and buckets are of colours,
The life has gained me a prize of streams of life.
It was geometric progression on a massive scale,
It was beautiful breaking an oath now.
Life has bent its head on the body of joy,
An exact opposite of the heavenly bodies in space,
In space you read a sign.
In space you have life, life is away,
Like the living ones who discuss their nightmares.
Of this life then the living know meaningful dreams,
Dreams of life have sung joyously like a statue and sculptor.
Life has inner quality,
And we agree to the quality that brings joy.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A Better Quality of Life
Why should I desire to have better credit?
When a better quality of life,
Is all I wish and need.
Are those who have a better credit rating,
Living lives that are troublesome free?
Few I see walking.
Or exercising their right,
To feel healthier and bright.
Most with a better credit rating,
Than the one I possess...
Seem to be stressed and obsessed with regrets.
Why can't they whip out a piece of plastic,
Or be 'loaned' out of their mess?
Isn't that what having good credit means.
An ability to temporarily be free of duress.
That sounds so inviting.
To live for the creditors to hound and bite.
Hmmm...
I think not.
Not on my drug free watch!
When I challenged myself to look away from 'things'.
There were those who believed I had lost my mind.
Literally!
Since I did not chase behind,
Luxury items.
Marketed to confine.
I chose to leave that kind of life behind.
When I challenged myself to look away from 'things'.
Only the necessities,
Brought me more happiness it seems.
'And you say I can get two of these for a dollar?
Can I get three for twenty five cents more?
Why are you staring at me? '
I spend what I can,
On what I can afford.
And after doing that...
I may be broke but far from bored.
Exploring those things like nature walks,
Or riding daily on a bus.
I admit in the beginning...
A few choice words I openly cussed.
And that action began my release.
'I's free.
I's free.
I's be free like morning glory.
Well...
Not entirely.
I still pay basic bills.'
Stripped from impressions I see others attempt.
With a clear mind unaddicted...
These observations now to me make less sense.
I spend what I can,
On what I can afford.
And after doing that...
I may be broke but far from bored.
Life unattached to crap,
Can be quite exciting!
Although social invitations are few,
And far between.
But having peace of mind that is recognized...
Is more fulfilling than being in and around those scenes.
And that's a given.
Why should I desire to have better credit?
When a better quality of life,
Is all I wish and need.
I is free from pretentious living.
Uh-uh.
Yessuh!
Are those who have a better credit rating,
Living lives that are troublesome free?
If they are,
I don't see it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Child's Tournament of Chess
High preparations
Great apprehensions
Last minute advises
Hope for celebrations
That's my child's tournament of chess.
Reaching the venue on time
Dying to know the opponent's name
Waiting for the match to commence
That's my child's tournament of chess.
Win or lose?
Life gets stuck
No mood to stroll
Hauling the mind
out of the chess hall
That's my child's tournament of chess.
My child starts appearing vulnerable
The opponent appears unbeatable
Praying for the win of my race horse
That's my child's tournament of chess.
Makes me meet all my weak emotions
Fear, jealousy, worry and doubt
challenge my sense of spiritualization
My mind gives me premonitions
That's my child's tournament of chess.
Gifts me a chance to become strong
A chance to climb up the emotional ladder,
for what I so long
A chance to look at the opponent as my own child
Pray for both to play their best
That's my child's tournament of chess.
My child's tournament of chess
allows me to understand
the meaning of failure
Two faces of the same coin,
success is no different from failure
Both are the part of the same destination with no comparison
Who can tell which is more important the Moon or the Sun.
My love for my child shall remain the same
Performance is no benchmark for the same
Win or loss, loss or win,
I will always love him
Whatever be the result
of my child's tournament of chess.
poem by Anshul Gupta
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Its Only Life
Hey, do you know whats going on
Do you?
Come on, play it! wooh!
Are you awake?
Have you anything to say?
Are you aware of what surrounds you?
And all the times you tried to please everyone
Can you admit it doesnt matter?
Ooh theres never a dull moment in my life
And I dont mind the ride
I dont mind the ride, yes
So listen
Dont live a lifeless life
When you could be living it right
Dont be one to be led (ahah)
Its a heavy world in my small world
Get up get out of bed
Ooh theres never a dull moment in my life
And I dont mind the ride
Chorus:
Dont you know its only life
Its only life
Taking you on a constant flight
Dont you know that its only life
There is no wrong there could be no right
Whatever youre doing
However youre doing it
Youll be living your life
Yes its only life
So there is no wrong, no right
Ooh its a constant flight
A constant flight
Movin on...
Are you awake?
I dont think I have the answer
Is there no one on the other line?
No
Now its a heavy world in my small world
But Im feeling just fine
Ooh theres never a still moment in my life
And I dont mind the ride
(chorus)
Life
Dont you know
Crying
Its only life, its only life
Dont you know
Crying
Its only life, its only life
Im crying
(ah) (whooh)
Dont you know its only life
Taking you on a constant flight
Dont you know that its only life
There is no wrong there could be no right
Whatever youre doin
However youre doing it
Youll be living your life
Dont you know its only life
And everyone pushes to get by
We go here
Were going there
Somebody tell me why
Dont you know that its only life
There is no wrong
There could be no right
Whatever youre doing
However youre doing
Youll be living your life
Dont you know its only life
Dont you know its only life...
Dont you know
Dont you know its only life
Fade
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth Of Life!
Oh! The great death, the grand gift of life
Knows not the young or old, rich or poor
Visits all, acts as double edged knife
Can take the body, soul never!
None desires death, but that death spares none
For the good or bad, read or unread
Death brings pain and grief, sure gives not fun
None on earth wants death, that comes unsaid!
Man with wealth ever in fear of death
Men sans wealth with love for kith and kin
All in constant fear and worry
Over death none has control any!
Truth of life is certainty of death
Do thy duty, face death bold on earth!
poem by Subbaraman N V
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Under Duress
It is getting increasingly obvious...
The difference between,
Those who are comfortable in their skins.
And those trying to fit in,
To get paid some attention.
Those attached to life,
From a perception of limitation...
Are made easy to believe,
A presentation that attracts...
The physicality of things,
Is how life should be lived.
And those faith based beings,
Seem to be spiritually encouraged.
They are the ones motivated first,
By an inspiration to create...
From a place innovation is born.
To allow others to plagiarize to live easier lives.
It is getting increasingly obvious...
The difference between,
Those who are comfortable in their skins.
And those trying to fit in,
To get paid some attention.
They become frustrated by another's success.
They believe they are entitled to be self centered,
With an expression of selfishness.
They perceive those homeless and hungry,
As the ones unlucky who became suppressed.
But the ones wishing to impress,
Are the ones self destructing...
From a lack of consciousness they do not possess.
Those attached to life,
From a perception of limitation...
Are made easy to believe,
A presentation that attracts...
The physicality of things,
Is a quality of life to live as addressed.
And if it is?
Why are people like this,
So unhappy...
With themselves?
And if it is the kind of life to live,
Why are people living lives like this,
Finding more and more...
Their beliefs being dismissed?
And they find themselves,
Living under duress.
Which is under the rest,
Of those historically oppressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Adulthood: A Decade And A Half Plus One
A decade and a half plus one
let me tell you its been fun
and what i mean by that
is simply there has been much change and upheaval
a battle against latent evil
let me tell you, its a constant combat
the principal enemy myself, and the tools of war: the temptation and soul
I am grateful each day, that one day i was made new
that finally i gave up that control
of my life in exchange for a new life, and a purpose, so i could know who
i was and what i was supposed to do, and it is today
that i ponder and reflect and say
i am glad that i am changed, because
i have my flaws
but certainly i had more flaws
i was overcome by evil, and by nature lived to be selfish
with my only wish
to glorify myself, you see I'd help you
and be your friend too
because it made me feel good, not because i had any sort of care
or love or devotion, surely that is something that should scare
anyone because each good deed was done with malice
surely that is worse than being callous
i was that man that the Good Book warned of: with 'an illusion
of Godliness.' living under a delusion
following a god, with only half my heart, hating with the other
hating even my brother
i walked around with my depression and bottled it all inside
sometimes when i would hide
it'd spill out onto the paper
and then float out as if vapor
I was a 'double-minded man'
with no purpose and no plan
praise be to God that now I'm changed
somehow
right now
sixteen feels grown up, not just because of trials thrust upon me
but because now i see,
from where God took this shell
how He gave it life and purpose and redeemed it from literal hell
on earth because we know 'That he who has the Son has life but
he who does not have the Son of God does not have life' its time
a decade and a half and one
it seems I'm all grown up now, but not of myself, nothing new under the sun
and yet, I've been made new, and He who lives in me
He is grown up, sorry if you disagree
because of His presence I am now whole
because of the One i extol
I have been made more than new, because since the adult is inside
i need not hide, for i am grown all up
a decade and a half and one
this is me: there's half a person who became one, and then one and one
poem by David Knox
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That Temptation To Be Teased
Hopeful and forgiving.
With a wish to remain positive...
Can produce the correct effect,
If a concentrated effort...
From just one mind is projected.
The selling of negativity,
Has increased in volumes of it sold.
There are more willing to accept this direction...
Than there are those remaining brave,
With a faith that is bold.
Hopeful and forgiving.
With a wish to remain positive...
Can produce the correct effect,
If a concentrated effort...
From just one mind is projected.
With a commitment to release from it...
That temptation to be teased.
That temptation that creates,
A believed remedy will instantly...
Premanently please.
'Not so.'
Say those who know,
That a reaping of negativity...
Sewn,
Is what can be expected...
For one to see flourish to grow.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Losing Life to Fear
In fear of being heard,
In fear of being understood,
In fear of not being heard,
In fear of not being understood,
In fear of being misheard,
In fear of being misunderstood,
In fear of hearing too much,
In fear of understanding too much,
In fear of saying too much,
In fear of saying too little,
In fear of being too enlightened,
In fear of not being factually correct,
In fear of being too bright,
In fear of being too ignorant,
In fear of being praised,
In fear of being bullied,
In fear of not being like others,
In fear of loosing my individuality,
In fear of being ostracized,
In fear of being camouflaged,
In fear of being the attraction,
In fear of being ignored,
In fear of being too different,
In fear of being too common,
In fear of following others,
In fear of disobeying others,
In fear of being too gullible,
In fear of being too stubborn,
In fear of being used,
In fear of being misused,
In fear of rewards,
In fear of punishments,
In fear of responsibility,
In fear of expectations,
In fear of being trusted,
In fear of being mistrusted,
In fear of your lack of response,
In fear of your over-reaction,
In fear of eternal silence,
In fear of noisy communication,
In fear of your acceptance,
In fear of your rejection,
In fear of exciting you,
In fear of upsetting you,
In fear of loving you,
In fear of hating you,
In fear of your love,
In fear of your hatred,
In fear of being loved,
In fear of being hated,
In fear of thinking,
In fear of existing,
In fear of living,
In fear of dying,
In fear of being myself,
In fear of being another,
In fear of knowing myself,
In fear of neglecting myself,
I lost my voice;
I lost my identity;
I lost my self.
I lost this life;
I lost my life;
I lost life's life.
poem by Suraj Samtani
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Second-hand Event
Movement spurts the truth-
an endless journey.
The constant search for beliefs creates confusion.
Craving and wanting
generates more conflicts.
The meaningless life drifts.
Can you go beyond your dreams,
beyond your yearnings?
I wanted to disagree with death
the ultimate truth.
Life had many connotations,
there was no deliverance from reflections.
No freedom from trepidation
ego was the last refuge.
The ending of self
did’t take you to liberation.
Urremitting flow of time
awakens your soul.
Stillness of thoughts opens
the muted doors of meditation.
It suddenly transports you to the otherness.
You are not your name.
The indulgence to self
becomes a second-hand event.
poem by Satish Verma
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Sonnet of Happiness
A life with you is like residing in peace,
Innards crawl like the windy hills inside of you.
Forever, my tranquil quality has mind and chew,
A life has happened on sandy shores to release.
Soft are folders in their minute bliss,
As finders, as readers of an awesome too,
After man and woman can defend two,
In the beginning was light and hiss.
Yonder is a place of happiness,
It is called beast and courage
Of a far living of host.
There, is a remedy in the readiness
To cure, bind and have beverage
Of a far distant post.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Life in isolation
Life in isolation
In no way it helps to be alone
You are constantly facing fear of cyclone
It may sometime never come and strike
You may only be dreaming and flying kite
You have accepted pessimism as only way
That is driving you miles away
From reality and pushing to the brink
It may further force you to sink
You can have no peace at all
When respond to unreasonable call
No one has succeeded in isolation
In seclusion alone without having relation
Life may come to standstill
The inner conscious may loose strong will
Even though you are in life
But always fearful of loosing with knife
Life is no life without company
This has been experienced by many
No one has appreciated it so far
We can’t lead the life by looking at star
Think of the fact that you are human
It is good quality of man and woman
The truth must be clearly borne in mind
There are ways to come out of it and find
It is clear tendency on your part to kill
Lack of strength, enough of confidence and good will
You must live by self but not alone
Those days are definitely gone
You are young and energetic
Life can’t be stagnated or made static
There is so much to live by ideals
Life may then seem as and real
If at all you are not told
Face the truth and be bold
Life is yours and soul must obey
This is how you find sun and bright ray
This fear is unreal and only exists in mind
Some of the bare facts may appeal even to blind
Rest your mind not on imaginary facts
Start new life and don’t hastily act
Make it sure that you are master
You must gain time and move on faster
Life is to be caught up with speed and zeal
It may make difference for you to feel
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Love and Hatred
Love is not so heavy as hatred,
Love is gentle and soothing,
While hatred is rude and disturbing,
Love is an attribute of God,
While hatred is the quality of devil,
Love makes,
Hatred mars,
Love teaches how to live,
Hatred is tired of life,
Love is soft as gentle rain,
Hatred is hard as drought,
Love is deep like an ocean,
Hatred is shallow without commotion,
Love makes sacrifice,
Hatred escapes sacrifice,
Love is everlasting,
Hatred is transcient,
Love releases fragrance,
While hatred stinks,
Love relies on heart,
Hatred relies on mind,
Love loses,
Hatred gains,
In a nutshell,
Love is life,
Hatred is death,
So let's spread love.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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The voice of the Poor
when everything looses its taste and vengeance cloth the
agony of the heart, the gnashing of teeth birth the beginning
of hatred, and the sting of death lives with thy soul, through
out generation to come
every faith challenge the discernment of the heart, living behind
the tears of the innocent, that calls the coolness of a stumble
heart, sprouted like an incense fume, chanting the bravery of
fear
as the eyes sees the suffering of the soul, the venue settled
down an avenue of loosing one's life, an experience of thy heart
that lives beyond man's personal conviction to die, even death
is not an option just to rise an honor to what faith calls
as the ladder of pain hurts the shadow of death, the will to live
is beyond compare, to shed blood, is what it is call, living
through dying is the only wisdom to live in harmony to every
man's faith
life is a call, to gain the fame of living is to give what is best in
life, it is in a small thing you give that, life brings us to see
and find the meaning of what is life...... a call to live
poem by Antonio Liao
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