Total Upheaval to Fantasized Beliefs
What is going on?
A reality refused existence.
And an overwhelming presence of it,
No longer given the option of being deluded...
By those who excused the inclusion of it.
What is going on?
The blatant attacks on deceit, lies and corruption.
A disruption of the lives of thieves and their alibis.
And an exposure to their incompetent influence.
What is going on?
A total upheaval of fantasized beliefs.
And the creaking sounds of sneaking creeps,
Attempting to leave the scene of their crimes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With My Finger Up And Raised
Tired of deceivers,
And the lies they leave...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of the thieves,
And corruption of beliefs...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of false faces that come.
Tired of those fixed smiles done.
Tired of the running by some...
Of those who say they care!
But not one woe I will do!
Tired of deceivers,
And the lies they leave...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of the thieves,
And corruption of beliefs...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
But not a single woe I will do.
And....
Not a woe I will do will prove...
With my finger up and raised!
Tired of the thieves,
And corruption of beliefs...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
Tired of deceivers,
And the lies they leave...
Yes I am.
Yes I am.
But not a single woe I will do.
And....
Not a woe I will do will prove.
Or a showing I have had it,
With attitude.
And my finger up and raised!
But not a single woe I will do.
No.
Not a woe I will do will prove...
Or a showing I have had it,
With attitude.
And my finger up and raised!
With my finger up and raised!
'You don't need your finger up and raised.'
With my finger up and raised!
'You don't need your finger up and raised.'
With my finger up and raised!
'You don't need your finger up and raised.'
With my finger up and raised!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Stuff Is Blatant
My observations aren't created.
Rarely embellished are they envisioned.
I see what I see.
And hear what I hear.
Ignoring what is there,
I do not make that decision.
I am one of those probing nosey people.
Wanting to comprehend with a reason,
To question 'why'?
I can be analytical if I wish.
But what I observe...
There is little need for it.
This stuff is blatant!
For open eyes to satiate.
Blatant with a rawness,
Hard for some to digest.
I guess that is why so many folks,
Delude themselves with pretentions.
Preferring lives fantasized,
To moralize what upsets.
This stuff is blatant,
Oh yes.
There in black and white!
But I understand why,
Some choose to camouflage this in disguise.
So much truth conflicts with a resistance to reality.
And reality is much despised.
This stuff is blatant!
For open eyes to satiate.
Blatant with a rawness,
Hard for some to digest.
I guess that is why so many folks,
Delude themselves with pretentions.
Preferring lives fantasized,
To moralize what upsets.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Defective Beliefs
Doesn't it seem we live in those times,
When the experience of living them...
Has become less mysterious.
Who living amongst us today,
Can honestly admit to say...
They have not a clue of what's going on?
Blatant is the disrespect.
Blatant is corruption and theft.
Blatant are those who have and 'have' not.
And 'who' today can honestly say,
They have not been deceived...
By the keeping of defective beliefs.
To continue to lie to oneself,
Would not be advisable to maintain mental health.
Since to do it would prove total insanity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fantasized By Lives Deluded
Fantasized by lives deluded.
Where will their minds go?
When all of their beliefs,
Have been depleted.
To release them to realities...
They've been taught to fear.
And takes away those choices,
To isolate
Behind locked doors!
Their eyes charaded,
With disguises and masquerades...
Now can no longer be kept closed!
Or escapes to shelter them,
From the beast at the feast...
They enjoyed without limits.
This beast creeps within their consciousness.
And bares exposed sharpened teeth.
Preparing them to eat!
They see this...
As the gates of a way of life,
For them once lived...
Crumbles to rust and has been disposed.
Where will their minds go?
With no amusements left to show.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What You Get Is a Pinch to Feel
I'm here to bite not to lick.
Or to soothe blemished egos.
I'm not one to sit and kiss a bruise.
Nor spread honey,
On an attacking wolfe's lips.
What you get is a pinch to feel.
I will not keep things deluded,
For your appeal.
I wish to keep things real.
It makes life more appreciated.
And to leave the deceit of thieves...
To plot their misdeeds,
Upon minds fantasized about 'their' realities!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Which Bland Existence Has a Bigger Fan Base?
Which bland existence
Has a bigger fan base?
A dollar worth less,
Than half of its value...
Is falling faster as propaganda rises,
To keep lifestyles fantasized.
Lies are blatant...
As those who speak truth,
Are criticized and despised
For trying to correct by...
Eliminating the act of spying.
While religious zealots,
Dance hypocritically from pulpits.
With sermons denouncing demons!
To leave congrgations in hunger.
Driving away in luxury,
Tax free!
On ther backs of those who give!
Which bland existence,
Has a bigger fan base?
The one already mentioned?
Or the one reality is for them out of place!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Beat Down Those Creeps Found
Beat down,
The creeps found.
Sleazing in discreet,
With misdeeds they release.
Beat down,
The creeps found...
Sneaking as they 'peep' who to feed defeat.
Ripping up the streets with their brand of deceit.
Beat down,
The creeps found.
Sleazing in discreet,
With misdeeds they release.
Beat down,
The creeps found...
Sneaking as they 'peep' who to feed defeat.
Ripping up the streets with their brand of deceit.
Get to caring.
And sharing.
With those you held close.
And love the most.
With forgiving that can come...
And forgetting what was done!
When they weren't the only ones...
Lieing on the run!
Get to caring.
And sharing.
Don't wait to repay...
A 'shade' somebody gave to you,
That you should let fade away!
Beat down,
The creeps found.
Sleazing in discreet,
With misdeeds they release.
Beat down,
The creeps found...
Sneaking as they 'peep' who to feed defeat.
Ripping up the streets with their brand of deceit.
Forgive and forget what was done,
When they weren't the only ones lieing on the run!
Or sleazing in discreet with misdeeds they release!
You don't have to be like that to whoever you meet.
Beat down,
The creeps found.
Sleazing in discreet,
With misdeeds they release.
Beat down,
The creeps found...
Sneaking as they 'peep' who to feed defeat.
Ripping up the streets with their brand of deceit.
Beat down the creeps found.
Oh oh...
Beat down those creeps found.
Oh oh...
Beat down the creeps found.
Oh oh...
Beat down those creeps found.
Beat down those creeps found.
Beat down those creeps found.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Of a Useless Need For Assumptions Done
Presumptions have reached the junction,
Of a useless need for assumptions done.
It will be clarified as to which way...
Today is heading towards.
All mysteries will become nonexistent.
And those deluded with beliefs...
Fantasized by the applied means of deceit,
Will soon see for themselves...
An agreed upon reality reached.
And...
No one will dispute!
A delivery of an effectiveness,
That shall not be debated...
For purposes to refute.
Since what comes will not elude them!
Or anyone on planet Earth to refuse...
To leave with choices to accept or reject!
Or feel the neglect of being excluded.
The real deal descends upon us all!
With eyes and ears opened.
Mouths shut!
And breaths that are deeply taken.
Truth as it is...
Without hint of manipulation.
Or beliefs some have chosen,
On others to inflict!
This will not be lifted,
From varied religious affliations.
Truth as it is...
Has arrived to be revealed.
And coming to a mindset near you!
To shock and awe...
With lessons,
Of mass introduction!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Accustomed To An Irrational Way Of Life
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Deluded and fantasized.
By the existence of praising myths,
Will begin unending arguments.
Over expenditures that exist,
On the feeding of a feast on the ability.
To maintain one's credit standing.
Especially when one's standing,
On debts owed.
Requires one to pay up,
For an out of control feasting to be paid.
As a 'sensible' way to pay for it with 'cash'.
Something demanded that one does not have.
And to state with a dignified presence,
That those awaiting to be paid for those losses generated.
Should be the ones already suffering,
From those mistakes made by those who fed at the feast.
To leave it in shambles,
And the ones left starving and homeless.
Are responsible and accountable to pay for a mess,
While those greedy keep.
Not only what they have hoarded,
But also the resources stuffed in their overflowing pockets.
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Deluded and fantasized.
By the existence of praising myths,
Will begin unending arguments.
Over expenditures that exist,
On the feeding of a feast on the ability.
To maintain one's credit standing.
And
They have no intention to pay a cent,
For what has been spent.
To sustain their lofty positions,
Because they have been hypnotized.
On rights of their entitlements.
A common sense,
Directed to someone accustomed.
To an irrational way of life,
Is like introducing a reality never known.
Nor will that reality expressed be accepted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Seems Deliberate To Soften The Blows
It seems deliberate to soften the blows,
When facts are revealed and the truth is exposed.
And the advocating of attacks on those picked,
Have been publicly admitted...
To have those accusing to be in the midst of it.
It seems deliberate to soften the blows,
When opposition discover themselves as foes...
And not the ones they have depicted to be,
Of criminal intent...
As they wish others to believe and perceive.
It seems deliberate to soften the blows,
When it has been revealed and the public knows...
Who has been incompetent!
With a sleazing of an integrity,
Undercover but eventually discovered.
To then have themselves excused...
With a forgiveness wished to be given.
And alibis used.
As a defense mechanism,
To make senseless their attacks...
They were prepared to abuse others without the facts
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Alibis
Excused deceptions.
Yet deceptions used,
None the less.
That's what alibis are.
And those who revere alibis,
Pride as if prized...
For their quickness to tell lies.
Treating those who do not,
As losing fools.
And those who seem to be depicted,
As fools...
More than likely live better lives,
With few or no excuses to make to anyone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Innuendoed to Convince
Fear not being completely honest,
In an atmosphere reeking of deceit.
You...
Of those wholesome sensibilities!
Eventually your intergrity will be identified.
And those who lived their lives mystified by lies...
Will discover their decay.
Deluded and fantasized.
Teased by sweets and compromised.
But has delivered no long lasting peace.
With wishes they had turned away,
From a hollowness enjoyed each day.
Sought on a daily basis.
Preferring a more solid existence employed.
At least one less pretensed.
Or one wished had been less annoying!
And lived to prevent from being destroyed.
By threats of terrorists or homophobic racists!
Since one day they will come to realize,
Their own lives lived...
For them nearing the end,
Has made no sense to defend.
With a rumored conscious intention.
Innuendoed to convince,
A fulfillment of some kind has taken place.
Even at the expense,
Of their sheltered and isolated misunderstandings.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Coming Down Hard On Crime
They're coming down hard on crime.
And this you can believe.
All eyes will open wide.
And deceit and thieves,
Will cease to be.
So hold your head erect!
And know this will happen soon.
And sing a happy song.
Knowing we'll soon be crook free!
Come from behind those bushes,
Children.
Come...
Come sing along with me!
The 'boogeyman' is gone.
They're coming down hard on crime.
Sing...
('Coming down hard on crime...')
And this you can believe.
('This we can believe...')
I think you've got it.
All eyes will open wide
('Our eyes are open wide...
And deceit and thieves have ceased to be.')
Very nice!
Yes...
Deceit and thieves.
('Yes deceit and thieves')
Yes...
Deceit and thieves.
('Yes deceit and thieves')
YES...
DECEIT and THIEVES.
('DECEIT and THIEVES')
Together and raise our voices high!
YES...
DECEIT and THIEVES...
HAVE CEASED
TO
BE!
Marvelous children!
Wasn't that a 'happy tune'?
NOTE:
Doesn't this remind you of 'something' from...
Let's see...
The Sound of Music?
Yes!
When the hills became alive with it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Much More Than Just a Visit
Leave the scene,
With beliefs unchanged.
Unaccepting what is seen....
Prematurely!
By those declaring themselves,
With a normality they claim is sane.
And a reality fixed that upsets,
Does not weaken...
By the rejection of it.
Or mundane debates...
Determining if its existence,
Should or should not take place.
Everyone eventually pays,
For the presence of it that goes ignored.
Or the people shunned who persist to live uplifted,
By a higher consciousness...
Making a meaning,
Much more than just a visit.
An arrival comes with a permanence!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Brewing Scent Of Freshly Made Coffee
It is no longer a matter of them telling the truth.
No...It isn't!
And it should be a concern for those who know it,
As it exists in their gut and as it has to them meant,
From observation, felt and experienced as presented...
That those who use other than truth to tell,
Actually are not convinced others are aware they lie.
Since alibis and excuses behind which they hide,
Has been something done to do all of their lives.
And their delusions have become their defense mechanisms.
But today,
Those embellishments exaggerated are easily chased away.
And facing consequences as a result of their defenses,
Has created their dilemmas and conflicts with their entitlements.
Some people will create right in the face of others,
There own versions of what is going on.
With eyes are pure as those seen coming from children.
And this isn't given as an option to express,
Their difference of opinion to address.
This comes from refusing to accept the absence of alternatives.
And what has taken place is immediately from them mentally erased.
Leaving feelings of abandonment,
By those who have been fantasized all their lives.
That is why they protest with a nonacceptance of a reality that is!
Although those realities as they are have never before to them been felt.
And no one seems to acknowledge,
The brewing scent of freshly made coffee...
There!
And everywhere in the air for all to get a deep whiff of it.
'That 'smell'?
What is it? '
~I have not a clue.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sounds Of Reality
You want to sit in silence
just to gather your thoughts,
however you know that something
will shatter that shell apart.
The silence that you crave
will vanish in sounds of reality.
You want to sit without
any outside influence
invading your shell of silence
you have built around yourself.
Sadly the inevitable will happen
and the shell will be shattered.
The sounds of reality
creep into our lives
in those precious moments
when we need to be
alone with our thoughts
and as quiet as can be.
Some don’t understand
the quiet distance others need
and invade it with idle noise
from their chatter to a TV blast
which will shatter your silence shell
with the sounds of reality.
You feel like shouting
get out of my space
and leave me alone,
but then you doubt
if they will understand
and you suffer in the sounds of reality.
24 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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In It For The Ease of It
It's not difficult to perceive,
That there are those living who believe...
Some folks live lives that are easy.
And these folks should assist others to succeed!
In fact...
Hold them by the hand.
And show them how to breathe!
It's not difficult to see...
Others sitting on their butts,
And complaining from sun down to sun up!
With nothing good to say...
About anything that comes their way.
They are in it for the ease of it.
In some deluded and fantasized existence.
Waiting they do for some golden ship...
To spend the rest of a 'blessed' life,
Removing reality from it!
Although surrounded by a shallowness.
A deepened one that for them now exists!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Her Truth
Your truth claims to be a reality
While her truth is the reality
Your truth is just another fallacy
While her truth states actuality
Your truth tries to call her an insurgent
Just another agent
Trying to spread hatred
When her truth really speaks for those you have murdered
For those you denied existence
After they fought for their freedom
Went to the streets to express their position
And you accused them of being destroyers
Ended their lives like they worth nothing
Your truth tried to oppress them
Suppress their voices
While her truth spoke for them
Went to the squares screaming for their liberty
Fighting for their authority
Your truth is only believed by those who shared your earnings
Those who sold their souls for the Benjamins
Used religion, race and lies to serve your purpose
While her truth refused to take it all
Her truth was so pure it refused to sell the martyrs blood
Your truth has become so little
So her truth rose above it and took over the scene
Your truth was caught out
Your truth was discovered
More and more are finding her truth
Seeing the Real Truth
And yours, of course, just wished it would have listened…
poem by Jacob Arden
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Incredulous
Incredulous.
They stand deluded,
Inside their heads...
Fantasized.
Incredulous.
Those stances taken.
The heartbreaking done.
With a stubbornness unbecoming.
And a waste of time,
Spent faking.
So incredulous.
Empty rituals with untried faith.
And attempts to make,
What is not there to embrace,
With a 'reality' selected in its place.
Incredulous, yes!
On faces left and gone unaddressed.
And those that are not...
Must choose from them to leave.
Incredulous people,
ARE to be believed!
Do 'not' try to perceive them,
Otherwise.
Incredulous are those,
Who defy truth!
And wish to live their lives...
Totally in the worship of lies!
Incredulous!
And defying a mind satisfying,
Correctness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Loss of Opportunity to Correct
They are seeking someone to blame,
For the deadend of their greed.
For the sloppiness of their gluttony.
For the selfishness they feed.
But they will come to realize,
They've been driven by their own addictions.
And their own needs to be deluded.
Unconsciously polluted and fantasized.
And with eyes clearing...
A reflection they see!
Racism, division, ignorance and isolation.
With a loss of opportunity...
To correct.
With no empathy bestowed from those,
Who observe them as they pass.
Looking onto this scene...
Expressing no feelings to be seen.
At least none they have chosen,
For them to regret!
Corruption fed without a consciousness...
Comes to greet.
Without delicious treats.
For a clean up that comes next.
And the seriousness of reality,
Taken to confront such a mess!
'Did we do this by ourselves? '
Yes, children!
No one else.
And guess what?
You will clean it up yourselves.
Here is your broom and mop.
Get busy!
And when you are done here...
There is much more.
Not we...
Or us!
But 'you' will do to improve!
And...
Over there,
You will find your uniforms.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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