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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Related quotes
Charmed Into It
If there is 'anything' I've learned,
As I continue to live my life...
With widened eyes and healed knees.
And...
With ears alerted like a bat radared for life.
Never will I allow myself,
Consciously...
To revisit an experience that has taught me a lesson.
Nor will I be charmed into it!
Michael Jackson took a few steps backward,
And called that 'moonwalking'.
When I did it,
I called it regret!
I discovered a repetition of that,
Cause me much sorrow!
Never will I allow myself,
Consciously...
To revisit an experience that has taught me a lesson.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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What It Means To Bloom
There are those who were born,
Knowing intuitively who they are.
With an attraction they could not avoid.
And eventually it became...
A life and not a decision.
And they sought to grow.
And they sought to bloom...
With a seeking to be critiqued!
And others live a life undecisive,
With the hopes that someone...
Comes and notices what it is done they do,
To encourage them with motivation...
That is accepted as constructive criticsm.
Allowing a process that becomes disciplined...
And less argumentative.
Like many who never discover what it means to bloom.
'I do what I do.
I don't need to improve.'
~Good luck.
I hope your feathers don't get too ruffled.
Or the few that are left don't get plucked.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Finally...thank you
I finally did it,
I gained the courage,
The courage to move on,
Fear is no longer apart of me,
Because,
Life is too short to dwell,
If it’s not about me,
Then I can’t have you in it,
You taught me things,
Showed me right and wrong,
But,
You gave me pain,
I didn’t know what to do,
I thought,
Sometimes I still think,
That having you in my life,
Is what I need,
Only because I loved you,
My life is all I have,
So what will I do,
Continue to be strong,
Be grateful,
For the things I learned,
Forget the pain you gave me,
And not make the same mistakes,
Life is about learning,
Experiences,
Even though this process was painful,
I learned the most beautiful lesson,
To love me,
Before,
Loving another,
As I write,
Tears want to stream down my face,
But they can’t,
Only because these tears aren’t for sadness,
It’s happiness,
Happiness because I grew strong,
Happiness because I moved on,
And I’m doing my dreams,
On my own…
So all I can say is,
Thank you.
poem by Latoya Fleming

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Put Me First
I accepted
that you did not put me first.
But you kept
putting me last. All the time.
Last
was the last place I wanted to be.
I once wanted
to be put first. By someone. Sometime.
I accepted that you
did not put me first.
But last
was a place, that I could not, bear to be.
Last was a place,
that ones true love, cannot placed be.
Ones true love,
is someone we run to, have to see.
I accepted that you did not
put me first.
But you
did not love me enough my love.
You neglected me,
rejected me, when me you did not see.
Therefore you
are going to lose my love.
Do not
forever try my sacrifice love.
Or else
I shall die, when I say goodbye, my love.
poem by Terence George Craddock

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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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Delivered To A Place That Dispenses Wings
Let's not carry on our backs,
Accepted agonies anticipated.
Let's take steps to rid ourselves,
Of those deficiencies...
We were led to believe,
Were birth marks to confirm...
As inspected.
And told they'd be there with us,
For the rest of our lives.
With a tolerance of them...
While others kept us suppressed.
As we continue to solicit,
A disrespecting done of our identities.
There is a need to awaken,
From this mental disease.
Let's not carry on our backs,
Accepted agonies anticipated.
Let's take steps to rid ourselves,
Of those deficiencies...
We were led to believe,
Were birth marks to confirm...
As inspected.
Well...
They are not,
Brandings of birth marks.
They are implications we kept...
With an expectation,
That one day if we stayed praying...
We would be delivered to a place,
That dispenses wings!
Dieing is a process!
Living the gift of life is a determination...
Some have refused to do,
Without the approval of acceptance.
From those sought to impress.
And if anyone has a need to ask,
To live a life that has been divinely given...
A praying done,
Is an unconscious routine.
Much like feeding an expectation,
That does not with 'intention' connect to the 'source'...
Through the doing of the process of living one's life!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Up and down
The accepted are rejected
And the rejected are accepted
In due course. Curse not
If you are not now accepted.
28.04.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Existing For Many
Which reality not accepted,
Existing for many...
Yet for some,
Refused and denied!
Why is it that those deluded, are given attention.
And those who seek truth...
Seem to be abused by deceit,
To be tricked and consciously lied.
And why is it 'that' which is observed,
Gets less respect...
Than the nonsense we've been taught to praise.
And why is it some days are confusing to others,
When all of us have been teased...
With addictions we crave.
Daily those temptations are sought,
With the acknowledgement we buy what we've bought...
Knowing that the price solicited,
Is one too high but we still agree and then overpay.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Regional Conditioning
Scanning one from head to toe,
To deliver an incompleted assessment...
Of another,
Upon an initial meeting...
Is a regional conditioning process.
Instead of greeting someone appropriately...
Some have a need to address one's physicality,
With interest first!
As if preparing for an adoption to take place.
And this head to toe scan is noticed,
To be done by those...
Who should be the last,
To think of passing judgement or eyeballing anyone.
However,
When an indoctrination...
Of a conditioning process has been done,
Its aim is to be thorough and childishly delivered.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Visitor
Honestly?
You asked for my opinion,
And here it is for free!
Anyone can say what they want.
And process what they want to share.
I've learned over the years,
To keep my business to myself...
And not let my business become 'theirs'.
Folks who have a different reality,
That's fine...
It may not be mine.
Wherever their minds are,
That's on them...
I keep my mind away!
I'm not going to stay around anyone,
Making attempts to be accepted...
By choosing right words to say!
I enjoy my life and where it is right now.
And that was a long time coming.
I take my time listening to the birds...
And sometimes with them I'm humming!
I appreciate the little things,
And observe again what was passed by!
When I talk to someone in conversation...
I look them in the eyes.
I don't disrespect anyone with neglect,
By looking away or up to the sky!
That kind of treatment is worse than telling a lie!
And from those kinds of people...
I do my best to hide!
I've learned to have fun,
And sometimes by myself.
I don't have to be in a crowd of folks...
To feel important or laugh at bad jokes.
And honesty comes first with me.
Someone who doesn't give it is instantly dismissed!
I don't waste my time with pretense or self indulgence.
Or kiss up to anyone to be part of someone's clique!
And if I show myself in disguise,
Wearing a mask that does not fit!
I want it known,
I am either not feeling well...
Or around those that are making me sick!
And...
That's not a habit I would normally condone.
That is why affairs like these I'd rather leave alone!
'Oh?
So I take it you are a visitor,
And not from around this area?
I must get back to mingling with my friends.
Thank you for your observations!
You never know...
We might meet again! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Will It Be Accepted?
Everybody seems to be in somebody's life...
With opinions to critique,
And exhaust one's frustrations...
That repeatedly affirms conflict.
To travel further...
Far from that peace to keep undisturbed in one's mind.
And trying with an overtime done to find it symbolized.
Hoping to recognize it when it comes.
But...
Will it be accepted?
Or has it already been rejected,
To be dismissed as not impressive enough to idolize.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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As Has Been Taught
From one's observance,
It can be determined...
A true placement of values.
And what is accepted,
Needs not to be assessed...
To point out to others.
Or be heard routinely expressed.
A true placement of values,
Has been obsessed.
And obvious it is...
Needing not to be excused or confessed.
Since if it was not wished it would not exist.
From one's observance,
It can be determined...
A true placement of values.
And what is accepted,
Needs not to be assessed...
To point out to others or be expressed.
It is what it is as has been taught,
To teach and be believed to label as is revealed.
As has been taught...
These things we see to leave as is believed,
To leave within our minds without questioning but accept.
As has been taught...
These things we see to leave as is believed,
To leave within our minds without questioning but accept.
As has been taught.
As has been taught.
As has been taught...
To leave within our minds without questioning but accept,
These things we see to leave as is believed...
As has been taught.
As has been taught.
As has been taught.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Sunday Kind Of Love
I want a sunday kind of love.
A love to last, past saturday night.
Id like to know its more than love at first sight.
I want a sunday kind of love.
And I want a, a love thats on the square.
Cant seem to find somebody, someone to care.
And Im on a lonely road that leads to nowhere.
I need a sunday kind of love.
I do all my sunday dreaming, and all my scheming.
Every minute, every hour, every day
And Im hoping to discover a certain kind of
Lover who will show me the way.
And my arms need someone to enfold
To keep me warm when mondays and tuesdays grow
Cold. and I need a love for all my life to have
And to hold.
I want a sunday kind of love.
song performed by by Reba Mcentire

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Demanded For All As a Cleansing
To sit and claim
He does not know 'why'
There are economic failures.
Magnified beyond belief!
And he and his administration,
Were the catalyst for the cause of them.
Says much more
About those who live in denial with incompetence.
And their deeds need not to be further questioned!
Nor can it be expected,
They are capable of providing relief.
If what is not obvious,
With this mix of leadership...
That still has those wondering who 'is' and 'is not'
Mentally equipped,
To recognize their comprehension limits!
Then we all should re-evaluate our fantasies.
And replace them quick!
With enforced and scheduled psychiatric visits!
Demanded for all as a cleansing to heal.
This kind of isolated greed one feeds...
Is from birth.
An indoctrination done,
That follows them throughout their lives.
Never to be for them to examine 'internally'.
Or consciously with an empathy to ever be revealed.
This is not a process of their conditioning.
Greed, theft and excessiveness...
Is for them lives lived to possess from others,
To obtain their success with skills of suppressiveness.
Digested as a quality of life one must protect.
To sustain and maintain their 'interests' at best,
To reflect themselves on levels of greatness.
'Hey...
This rambles! '
And...
What is your point?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The Boss
(nickolas ashford/valerie simpson)
Fancy me
Thought I had my degree
In life and how love
Ought to be a run
I had a one step plan to prove it
Guide in my pocket for fools
Folly and fun
Love had to show me one thing
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(taught me who was who was the boss)
Id defy
Anyone who claimed that i
Didnt control whatever moved in my soul
I could tempt
Touch delight
Just because you fell for me
Why should I feel uptight
Love had to show me one thing:
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(taught me who was who was the boss)
Love taught me
Taught me
Taught me
Taught me
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(taught me who was who was the boss)
song performed by by Diana Ross

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boss
(Nickolas Ashford/Valerie Simpson)
Fancy me
Thought I had my degree
In life and how love
Ought to be a run
I had a one step plan to prove it
Guide in my pocket for fools
Folly and fun
Love had to show me one thing
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(Taught me who was who was the boss)
I'd defy
Anyone who claimed that I
Didn't control whatever moved in my soul
I could tempt
Touch delight
Just because you fell for me
Why should I feel uptight
Love had to show me one thing:
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(Taught me who was who was the boss)
Love taught me
Taught me
Taught me
Taught me
I was so right
So right
Thought I could turn emotion
On and off
I was so sure
So sure (I was so sure)
But love taught me
Who was who was who was the boss
(Taught me who was who was the boss)
song performed by by Diana Ross

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Conditioning
Well youre not, youre not who you think you are
Well we think that you are john or dave
But youre not, youre not who you think you are
Jumbled mass of preconceived ideas
From our birth we were given an identity
People told us we were great or small
From our birth we were given rules of right or wrong
Not forgetting the bullies at school
The world teaches us to think that life is full of limitations
The world tries to make us think that there are loads of limits
The world teaches us to think that life is full of limitations
The world tries to make us think that there are loads of limits
Welcome to conditioning
Welcome to conditioning
And as the world makes us feel great
And as the world makes us feel small
Oh so convinced of our identity
If we only knew it we just cant believe it we just wont believe it
Leading us to think that we are such a success
Conning us to think that we are just a failure
Leading us to think that we are so intelligent
Conning us to think that we are just a do-do do-do
Welcome to conditioning
Welcome to conditioning
Who is to say what is what
Welcome to conditioning
Who is to say what is what
Welcome to conditioning
Who is to say what is what
Er, sorry, ha ha
Who is to say what is what
Welcome to conditioning
Who is to say what is what
Welcome to conditioning
Who is to say what is what
Welcome to conditioning
song performed by by Howard Jones

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hell Known as Home
Abused, Used
Neglected
and Confused
Rejected, Infected
Traumatically Affected
Bruised to the core,
Beaten on the floor,
Cried 'no more! '
But still left sore,
Blamed, Shamed
Numb
and Contained
Chained, Slain
to the Aches
and the Pain
Searched for support,
Thought to report,
Both cut short
With results all sort,
It was Listed!
The Pros and Cons
Both very long
The Counslers Insisted!
Papa would be gone
For what he done wrong,
But the Issue Persisted!
Mama needa be strong
To help Sista hold on
Since this Resolution
Held complex Solutions
I Rejected Revelation
And Accepted my
Situation
And so,
Alone,
I Roamed,
Not Stoned,
But Owned...
All the while
Loathing
my
Hell Known as Home.
poem by Karoliena Somura

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Facts of Life
It's to be understood.
Not discussed.
To do so will bring upon shame.
A certain digust,
Will lead to finger pointing and blame.
That's why when it is mentioned...
There is a rush to hush it!
There may be claims made,
To defame those proclaiming their righteousness.
And the status of those
Who have established themselves...
As household 'names'.
It is best to leave this gossiped.
Best to play the rumor game.
It is best to whisper this in ears.
To let it simmer first to ignite the heat!
Then pass unnoticed through the streets...
While observing those who did not know,
Engage in a flaming rage...
As their tempers flare and increase!
Leaving are those who chose to maintain their silence...
To live their lives with peace of mind.
And doing that in discreet.
Being uninvolved!
Finding to be concerned a waste of time.
As they have learned.
To keep their peace.
To live among those who react...
Without exploring the facts of life!
As known.
And not assumed to suspect.
Or allow it to be condoned!
This conditioning process observed...
Is left alone.
As they watch those select,
From offerings presented.
And rejecting the rest to go neglected.
Resenting,
Lessons one needs.
But choosing to refuse any test...
To broaden a limited consciousness.
And behind they are left and kept,
To protest in a collective ignorance digested.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Well, I don't think I've ever consciously come up with tricks and tools to, kind of, hide. I do think I'm a bit more vigilant, in terms of safety issues and things. And sometimes it is kind of nice to try to hold onto your anonymity.
quote by Calista Flockhart

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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