The Different Twigs On Rooted Trees
The different twigs on rooted trees,
If noticed...
Expands concepts of possibilities,
If approached...
With an opened mind.
If one accepts the meaning of consciousness,
Life given to live will display...
An array of qualities,
Humanity blesses us to receive.
This Universe beholds many complexities,
Out of our control.
Although we demand with selfishness,
To insist we can rule and suppress...
What we choose and refuse what is detested!
Feeding a continuum of conflict and unrest.
A divine design,
More complexed than our self centeredness...
Is not blinded by the fuss we make as specks of dust.
It knows we leech disrespectfully.
It knows we show an ungratefulness...
With beliefs our insignificance,
Is the cause and effect of the 'heavens' progress.
And 'not' the creators of upsetting conflicts and diseases,
Left!
Like pests.
And not the self righteous 'saviors' professed!
A divine design,
More complexed than our self centeredness...
Is not blinded by the fuss we make as specks of dust.
It knows we leech disrespectfully.
It knows we show an ungratefulness...
With beliefs our insignificance,
Is the cause and effect of the 'heavens' progress.
The different twigs on rooted trees,
If noticed...
Expands concepts of possibilities,
If approached...
With an opened mind.
However...
Too many of those are still enclosed,
In shells too hard!
And too thick to birth from the surface to bloom!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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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
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The Lake
There was a secluded little lake near
My school when I was young; every
Saturday I would be there, a weekly
Visit to take in the calming effect
Of its tranquility; its miror surface
Which afforded a good view of the
Sprinting of tilapias as they noticed
My arrival and the fallen trees with
Their subteranean upright branches,
Twigs and leaves which when greeted by the wind
Twisted like the tail of an enthusiastic
Dog heralding its master's arrival.
Stones I would throw into the lake
Creating large rings running towards
The riparian field filled with white
Sand, bamboo and rubber trees; a little
Sojourn which refreshed my mind for another
Week of gruelling lessons and homework.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Lino
i trust you and i repeat
the line of our heritage
from trees we come from
rooted to their roots
this time we let go off
our leaves and even some
of our twigs as we pay
tribute to the change of the
season, but soon, Lino,
and i trust you, we become
trees faithful to the sun again,
soon they shall see buds,
growing from new twigs,
roots growing deeper
probing our loneliness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Thoughtless Self-centeredness
Outwardly admitted,
And within inner circles met.
No one is going to say how they feel,
To intimidate what is politically correct.
People have their hatreds.
And they are socially in effect.
Only blocked visions of those blind...
Can not visually observe,
The denials and the disrespect.
Reflected within one's placed footsteps.
All of us are affected.
Whether or not we accept regret.
Decay has been and is on the rise.
Lies spoken will not keep them,
From eyes that are opened...
To divisions kept.
The causes for insecurities,
Will always be in the minds of those displeased.
To initiate mental diseases without remedies.
If humanity does not actively seek peace...
To inflict upon those defenseless to increase peace,
Seen weakening minds as it decreases.
Havoc and chaos will become a way of life.
For all who believe one rule is right.
Or one kind of bird should take flight...
From one tree to land on one soil selected.
Where one people rule as they please?
One God will make One Choice and none other.
And that's to do away with all One God has made...
To end it for 'ALL' that breathes,
Selfishly.
Foolishly.
And in thoughtless self centeredness.
Outwardly admitted,
And within inner circles met.
No one is going to say how they feel,
To intimidate what is politically correct.
And if those who should survive,
One day in their discussions in retrospect.
The perception of being politically correct,
Will be reviewed as a defective aspect...
To those who regard truth as a normal pursuit,
To preserve their peace.
After ignorance has ceased to flourish.
And those of consciousness have it outlawed.
To nourish One Humanity as intended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Am Here To Represent My Mind
Im here to represent my mind
Why do we live inside our mind?
Never wish for the wrong
You could've had it for long
Already things happen aside
Put you off place- rocksteady decide
Long stride to get whats in need
Only chance there is to succeed
I reason with the morals of ghosts
Use my knowledge as a tool
Plauged by many worthy hosts
Anti-segregational rule
His face is shadowed
He lurches his steps
An existance perceived to the greatest of depths
Materializing thoughts
The tangible crusade
Generations develop, change and then fade
Concepts in concepts- beautiful concepts
Concepts in concepts- dutiful concepts
Uprooting concepts, relating to indepth
Making you a metaphor, exposing the real depth
poem by Bradley Downs
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Of a Much Needed Self Evaluation
Your creation has suffered,
From a disrespecting neglect.
And an absence of trust!
That's why it crumbles.
Not from threats you fear.
With desires and wishes,
To keep 'this' protected.
As others you demean...
In jeering and taunting scenes.
Unpolished and rusting.
Ignored and collecting dust.
And this is what you believe,
Seeds the feeding of jealousy?
This is what you perceive...
Others desire as a must?
So deluded are your addicting lusts.
So self righteous...
Are your own beliefs you cuss!
As you leech without benefit,
Of a much needed self evaluation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Rain
Of the rain the Word has said
To us he giveth in due season
And in the Word i also read
Of his might and of his reason
The rain to water the earth
Our crops he will sustain
Trees planted not in dearth
Rooted firm they will remain
A rich gift from heaven sent
Not because of worthiness
But by divine design meant
To show a creator greatness
And therefore this an ode to thee
Of God's oh blessed rain
A token penned from me
Forever i am your humble swain
2007
poem by by unknown author
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For Whatever One Believes Is Achieved
I've got to be in a wrong state of mind,
If I find the act of self aggrandizement...
A sign the reflects one's self centeredness.
And by design others give attention to this.
Perhaps I should re-revaluate,
The purpose of life!
And why we all exist to bridge gaps.
I've got to be in a wrong state of mind.
Not to attempt to define such obsession,
As a professed ego expressed.
Or am I so behind the times,
That believing what one does...
Has nothing to do with deed!
But the prospects of being honored,
For whatever one believes is achieved...
Can lift an ego to great heights.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Offended And Upset
People have become too complacent.
With a caring not to listen.
Or a caring done to comprehend!
Believing a sleepwalk exercised...
Through rituals and symbolic traditions,
Would appease the majestic mentalities...
That brought them to experience,
Lives they live here on Earth.
A respect not shown,
Is awakening those with a selfish consciousness.
The disrespect shown to one another...
Has more than just neighbors complaining,
About this thoughtlessness.
Guess what else,
Has been offended and upset?
With no patience left...
For anyone to get their act together!
If anyone has not yet accepted,
The depth of their connected realities...
Soon will discover their beliefs to be dispensible.
Since we have been the welcomed guests!
Not the 'creators' of what we believe,
Can be easily deceived.
WE are not the creators of what we see,
That has allowed us to leech...
Maniputively!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blinded By Design
Blinded by design.
A condition so effective...
Whatever comes next for them,
Few will accept.
And most will reject.
Especially those opposed to facing truths.
Since the feasting of historic concepts...
Have only been fed to them,
With the only best...
Of tasty deceptions.
Blinded by design,
And the majority are fine about it!
Or were...
Until just recently.
A disturbance regarding their finances,
Has cause their eyes to open wide!
Leaving many traumaticized in disbelief.
And even though the sky is falling...
To scurry many chickens home to roost.
An elected goose promising golden eggs would be laid...
Has been discovered to be the leader,
Of a tremendous duping done...
With a horrifying scooping of their finds to boot!
Blinded by design,
For a very long time.
And slowly is this reality being revealed...
Since the bottom of their butts will soon be busted.
Not only to abandon those trusting disgusted!
But hundreds of thousands,
Seen going literally out of their minds!
And a sceaming done by those who find...
No missionary charities soliciting to depict,
Their disadvantaged sufferings...
On local tv to gain sympathy from those rich.
Since the voices heard are theirs...
At a dispassionate fervor bursting,
Terrifying pitch!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Show Me Your Beliefs
Your want to take my beliefs,
And enforce upon me yours.
I am fine with that.
However...
Show me where your beliefs,
Have satisfactorily been endorsed.
Show me the facts.
And I will follow you...
Of course.
Show me,
Your beliefs!
And if possible,
Can you do that...
Once you've dismounted,
Off the back of your high horse!
Show me your beliefs,
Without...
Showing me your remorse!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: People These Days
Sometimes, one knows not how one gets his wealth;
Sometimes, one forgets where it lies in mounds!
Sometimes, one slogs in spite of failing health;
The wealth unused becomes another one’s!
Some buy estates and grow fruit-trees in it;
Some build guest-houses, temples and show-rooms;
To save some tax, some donate by habit;
Some sweep the twigs and fallen leaves with brooms!
How people crave to make money some more!
They enjoy not as how a pauper does;
Some miserly live staying much indoors;
To give a nickel, they make such a fuss!
And yet, all know they leave behind all wealth,
Whether acquired by luck or by stealth.
6-27-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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Mind By Design
If you use it...
There is nothing you should fear.
Just don't abuse it.
Refuse to as you choose.
If you use it...
No dozing snoozing will oppose.
If you do as you suppose.
And if you use it...
Accusations will vacation.
Freeing you to cruise and choose.
To chase away confusion...
From your head that stays cool.
If you use it...
You can stop the drinking booze.
Or drugging up to soothe and numb...
Succumbing doubt that overcomes.
And if you use it...
There is nothing you should fear,
That's so severe you keep so near...
To pursue as a life that suits.
When to the curb you can boot it.
You can use it!
That mind by design.
You can use it!
I's one of a kind.
You can use it.
Use it.
Use it.
Use it...
That mind by design.
Yours and one of a kind.
You can use it.
Use it.
Use it.
Use it...
That mind by design.
Yours and one of a kind.
You can use it.
That mind by design.
Know you can use it!
Yours and one of a kind.
Accusations will vacation.
Freeing you to cruise and choose.
To chase away confusion...
From your head that stays cool.
You can use it.
Use it.
Use it.
Use it...
That mind by design.
Yours and one of a kind.
Just choose to use it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mind Is Garuda Of Lord Mahavishnu!
mind is that bubble,
Origin as a bubble,
Acquires body and brain,
Through which it grow,
Nay manifest, universal mind behind,
And mind is that which expands and expands,
Grow billions of light year greater in radius
than universe itself,
Well controlled and well poised mind is,
traveler in universe travel at infinite speed!
Mind is that which can take one to even or hell,
Mind is that which can convert devil to God,
Mind is that Garuda of Mahavishnu,
That take him, wherever he want to arrive to help people at distress!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Following The Rules Of Oppression
On their quest to seek attention,
To causes they wish...
Seen more publicly applauded.
They suppress themselves,
With a feeding they need approval...
To have their desires met.
And obedient they are...
To following the rules of oppression.
With a more 'generational' feel to it...
That reduces a need,
For them to keep ambitious.
And stifles the concepts,
Of achievement and progress.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A glimpse
a glimpse
the half opened door
some would say
a half closed door
it all depends on the
state of mind you are in
well half closed for pessismist
and half opened for optimist
half opened or half closed door
so long as it is open
and not close
a good exercise for the mind
of a story teller, novelist, a film maker
a glimpse at the half closed door
the mind is thrown open
like the kick you would give
a half opened door
so that you and pet cat could
glide through easily
the stories that start coming out
from a glimpse at the half opened door
agatha's murdered corpse lying behind
a stalker, a ghost in the corridor of the mind
from the glimpse of the half closed door
a million possibilities, ideas pouring forth
half closed door, half opened door
whichever way you may say
it is an opened door
a million stories, ideas, possibilities
knock at the door of my mind
a glimpse of the half closed, half opened door
my half closed half opened eyes
open themselves to my ever curious mind
boundless as the universe
inspired by
A Glimpse
A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove,
late of a winter night-And I unremark'd seated in a corner;
Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and
seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand;
A long while, amid the noises of coming and going-of drinking and
oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little,
perhaps not a word.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Poem For Solitude
the sun comes here
faithfully
without the sound of the band
the grasses meet it
without so much fuss
the long trees stand there
and there is no dancing
the leaves listen to the passing wind
the dew slowly give in
to an unnoticeable disappearance
an exit without the goodbyes
the rituals of parting
sweet-sorrows of a Romeo and Juliet
nevertheless
this is everyday
a solitude that everyone knows
and hence
does not talk about
except me
who wants perhaps to make
a record of events
before i finally pass away
on the solitude of
nature
on the beauty that the mind sees
and accepts
and simmer without much
fuss.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Letter Never Sent
Its been pretty simple so far, vacation in athens is calling me
And knock, knock, knock on wood, I thought Id left you behind
Heaven is yours, heaven is yours, heavens yours where I live
The thought of the catacombs left my soul at home
This letter never sent
And its so far, its so dark, Im so lost
Heavens yours, heavens yours, heavens yours where I live
(another story, another story for a while, someone show me)
When Im moving too fast, wheres my new address?
The water is evening now, the catacombs are filling in
If my soul was made of stone, no, not, not so dark, dark
And its so far, its so dark, Im so lost
And its so far, its so far, its so far
Heavens yours, heavens yours, heavens yours where I live
(another story, another story for a while, someone show me)
Heavens yours, heavens yours, heavens yours where I live
(another story, another story for a while, someone show me)
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Trees Will Not Be Seen In Miami
The house stands empty.
The architecture is beautiful.
And where it sits is exquisite.
The price of it has to be extremely high.
I wish I could afford it.
Why hasn't it been sold?
'It is not the price at all.
It is the trees.'
The trees?
The trees are wonderful.
What's wrong with them?
'There is nothing at all wrong with them.
You see...
The previous owner convinced an insurance company,
To insure them exclusively on a separate policy.
And have demanded they be -re-rooted to be planted,
Near their new home.'
BUT...
Those trees are Redwood Trees.
It would be impossible to do that.
Where does the previous owner live now?
'In a condo in Miami.'
Well...
What about the house?
'It gets even more complicated.
We had a bid on it.
But that bidder requested it be excavated.'
Excavated?
To where?
'To a remote island in the Pacific.'
Who are these people?
Their demands are outrageous.
'People who have money these days,
Believe they can have anything they wish.
ANYTHING.
Even the impossible.'
Well...
I am a firm believer that nothing is impossible.
'Oh?
Keep your beliefs.
However...
That beautful house you see will stay empty.
And those trees will not be seen in Miami...
To make their appearances known and shown.'
That's a bit negative don't you think?
'No!
I am doing the best I can,
To get a commission.
And your request to see this house,
Will not produce for me a dime.'
You do have other properties to show me,
Don't you?
'I've been telling you that for two hours.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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