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Unleash a Beast

Death comes to one for all it seems.
In a world where truth is meaningless,
And unseen!
Just to satisfy created lies and lifestyles
Liars maintain and hold.
As the perpetrator of worse crimes...
Whereabouts grows cold.
And the one who is sentenced,
Was found in a hole!
The one who kept order...
While others slaughter, destroy lives
As a victory of control
Will never by them be told!
And he who is chosen to die...
Will unleash a beast no one realized!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Destroy, Destroy, Destroy

The battle of the beast.
A creature that only knows one thing.
Destroy, destroy, destroy.

It entered the world as nothing more then a mere boy.
Cold and abandoned.
The exiled one.
He knows no love.
He is what no one wants to become.
He lives off of lust and blood.
A pain felt hundred times worse then living on the brink of death.
All he does is fight.
Morning till night.
The battle of the beast.
A creature that only knows one thing.
Destroy, destroy, destroy.

Abused,
constantly confused.
Trust no one.
Get close and suffer.
The forgotten lover.
Neglected and rejected.
And that has created his own protection.
A self projection of what seems sincere.
A wall wrapped up like spider web.
he waits patiently for his victims.
He doesn't show any leniency.
The battle of the beast.
A creature that only knows one thing.
Destroy, destroy, destroy.

The deception is his human form.
Hell rip you apart.
Hell tear out your heart.
When he feast its best to retreat.
For him their is no bias.
He hates all as equals.
No taking pity on one over another.
The battle of the beast.
A creature who knows one thing.
Destroy, destroy, destroy.

He doesn't pillage or plunder.
He decimates and devastates.
He burns entire societies to ground with his anger.
Which causes the constant quake.
The battle of the beast.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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All Is Truth

it is a lie
i am not myself
i am all of nature
the air, water, grass
every thing in everything
i am not myself
how can i be myself
when if the air goes away
i too have to go away
proving that i am but a lie
i am but a cog in the wheel
it is a lie
i am not myself
i am all of nature
the water, the grass, the clouds
how could i be myself
when if the water runs its last drop
i too would too have to make that last pause from the world
those teachers who get me to think i am just
body and bones are liars
i am more than that
how could i be myself only
when if the sun says goodbye
i too have to say goodbye to all
call me anything buy myself
the sun, the moon, the air, water
will vouch for that
you liars

inspired by

All Is Truth
O ME, man of slack faith so long!
Standing aloof-denying portions so long;
Only aware to-day of compact, all-diffused truth;
Discovering to-day there is no lie, or form of lie, and can be none,
but grows as inevitably upon itself as the truth does upon
itself,
Or as any law of the earth, or any natural production of the earth
does.
(This is curious, and may not be realized immediately-But it must be
realized;
I feel in myself that I represent falsehoods equally with the rest,
And that the universe does.)
Where has fail'd a perfect return, indifferent of lies or the truth?
Is it upon the ground, or in water or fire? or in the spirit of man?
or in the meat and blood?
Meditating among liars, and retreating sternly into myself, I see
that there are really no liars or lies after all,
And that nothing fails its perfect return-And that what are called
lies are perfect returns,
And that each thing exactly represents itself, and what has preceded
it,
And that the truth includes all, and is compact, just as much as
space is compact,
And that there is no flaw or vacuum in the amount of the truth-but
that all is truth without exception;
And henceforth I will go celebrate anything I see or am,
And sing and laugh, and deny nothing.
Walt Whitman

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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All Is Truth

O ME, man of slack faith so long!
Standing aloof--denying portions so long;
Only aware to-day of compact, all-diffused truth;
Discovering to-day there is no lie, or form of lie, and can be none,
but grows as inevitably upon itself as the truth does upon
itself,
Or as any law of the earth, or any natural production of the earth
does.

(This is curious, and may not be realized immediately--But it must be
realized;
I feel in myself that I represent falsehoods equally with the rest,
And that the universe does.)

Where has fail'd a perfect return, indifferent of lies or the truth?
Is it upon the ground, or in water or fire? or in the spirit of man?
or in the meat and blood? 10

Meditating among liars, and retreating sternly into myself, I see
that there are really no liars or lies after all,
And that nothing fails its perfect return--And that what are called
lies are perfect returns,
And that each thing exactly represents itself, and what has preceded
it,
And that the truth includes all, and is compact, just as much as
space is compact,
And that there is no flaw or vacuum in the amount of the truth--but
that all is truth without exception;
And henceforth I will go celebrate anything I see or am,
And sing and laugh, and deny nothing.

poem by Walt Whitman
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Misappropriation Of Trust

Young man...
It is our intention to ensure,
You are absolutely clear of mind...
Of those charges brought up against you.
Is that understood.

'Yes.'

Yes, what?
There is a protocol and procedure,
You will follow here.
Is 'that' understood?

'Yes, Your Honor.'

That's more like it.
And hold your head up.

We have come together to discuss,
At this hearing...
The ethics by which you have chosen,
In your previous admitted statements...
To be a gross miscalculation of judgement.
And...
We have determined,
To be a negligent and blatant misappropriation of trust.

We would like to hear from you,
Your interpretation of the whereabouts of the missing funds.
As well as an explanation to the disappearance of it.
Detailed!
What is it that you wish to reveal during this inquiry.
And please...
I do not wish to repeat this again.
Hold your head up.

'I am a thief. A common lowdown crook.
And a deceiver who lies to benefit my own interests.'

Well...
I see.
We 'were' expecting you to evade our suspicions.
To allow a deeper probe into your activities.
To make us look good in front of the media.
However...
Since you apparently represent our true beliefs,
I see no reason to prolong this needless investigation.
You dared to be honest.
And need I say...
Today that is a rarity.

And let me take this time to apologize to you,
For all of those who attempted to use you as their scapegoat.
Congratulations.
You are free to go!

'But...
I want to be sentenced for my crimes.'

You WHAT?
LOL...are you kidding?
Get out of here.

Did you hear what he said?
'I want to be sentenced for my crimes.'
LOL.
Where do these kids get this stuff from?
They must be showing reruns of Matlock.
Have him followed.
We do not need the likes of people like that,
Trying to break into prison.
That will put an end to our incarceration programs.
And...
Make sure he does not go near,
Any of the half -way houses.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Embedded In Their Minds

People lie.
Especially to themselves.
Because the act of it,
Makes them feel good they can control...
A truth they can manipulate,
They believe will never be told.

People lie.
And caring less others are aware of it,
When embedded in their minds...
They have created something that does not exist.
And with a planting of misdeeds they watch their lies grow.
Everyone has been exposed to one or two chronic liars.

'Why do you have to be like that? '

Like what?

'Keeping it real.
And making me feel as if I am naked.'

That's what truth does.
It reveals everything.
Even exposing those who believe themselves to be hiding.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Do Liars Then Do?

Liars know who they are.
And what they have done,
To pursue temporary satisfactions.
With a demoralizing of whom they choose.
As if what they've done will stick like glue.

Those who have been scrutinized,
By the telling of false lies...
To have been victimized with tears cried.
Are aware of them too!
Yet to retaliate is something they refuse.

But those who have been undermined,
Do what liars instigating have chosen not to do.
And that is to wait patiently,
To let time intervene...
With a demeaning liars with an applying of truth.

What do liars then do?
Plead to be released from mental guilty beatings.
And even if forgiven,
Liars once exposed for who they are...
Can never find places to keep themselves hidden.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Its Created Existence

How can anyone be judged and tried,
And sentenced for any wrong doing.
In places known to be delusional,
And fantasized.
Buildings have been erected,
Just to encase the creation of laws and reasons!
To satisfy a power base crushing from within.

How can anyone be judged and tried,
And sentenced for wrong doing.
How did that wrongdoing begin?
There is no escaping,
From its created existence.
Where would one go...
To seek a truth pursued?

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blackness

Venturing into a big black hole.
Emptiness surrounds, it fills my soul.
The grandness of the blackness takes control.

Hopeless, meaningless damn the blackness.
The blackness inside that does feed us and beats us.
It swallows me up and feeds my soul.
Heats the hate that makes me cold.

It reaches out and takes a hold.
To drive me further in blackness bold.
Further and further it's freakishly cold.
Enveloped yet to be told.
No boundries how far will it go?

We've got to see how dark the black can be.
So venture now to blackness hold.
You must be bold to take this road.

poem by Michael McParland
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Now It's My Turn

You've convinced me to deny who I am
Told me that I couldn't do it
When I figured out that I could you threw me into a pit
Of self pity and self insult, fed me your lies that my talent wasn't there
When I realized the truth that it was all you did was scare
Me into believing that my talent was destructive
Told me I could have self control
Told me I couldn't use this gift to console
But now I finally see through your lies I've seen through them

You were scared, full of fear
You were scared to the point of a dripping tear
You were scared I'd realize my calling
You were scared I'd revoke the statements of mundane
you were scared I'd actually sing
You were scared, and insane

I never once thought that all of these lies were from you
I never thought you spoke to me too
But now it's my turn
The gift you were so scared of here it is
Look now it's His
The gift that I did once spurn
I'll use to destroy your principalities
This is my secondary weapon to fight your powers
I'll draw my inspiration from my sword
I'll holster my regret and low self esteem
You can't tie up with them anymore
I don't believe I'm something to abhor
Now that I see I'm loved you can't tell me who I am
Because it doesn't matter, not because what you say is empty
No, that was me
It doesn't matter because it's not about who I am
It's about who I serve

Send your demons, send your temptations, maybe I'll even fail
Maybe I'll regret these statements, maybe even weep and wail
But it's too late, you can't put me back on your curve
I won't stray from the straight and narrow
This is the path I've chosen to follow
Now you can't touch me
Now you can't touch my poetry
Now I've realized my gift, even if just part, I've realized that part
I've realized why I have all these desires in my deepest heart

So now it's my turn, you used my gift to beat me down
Talked me into misusing it or not using it all
Well now it's your turn
Taste my sword, it's different than my peers
Taste my sword it can lead many
Taste my sword it's greater than me
You know the sting of old Proverbs and Psalms
But now it's my turn

I don't believe the lies because I know who I'm loved by
I don't believe those lies because I know my identity
I don't believe their lies because I believe in something greater
I don't believe your lies, because you're their father
I don't believe your lies, you've already lost

In trying to destroy me, He made me stronger
Now you got yourself one heck of an enemy
I never thought I'd say it, but it's me
Here's a taste of the last days
This is my worship, one day you will feel righteous burn of a billion
But until that day we'll wait
Unfortunately for you it's not passive
It's active
Active waiting
Active seeking
Active worship
Active writing

Because now it's finally my turn
I'll watch you burn
In the advanced darkness
Behind a wall of glass
Watch you, you the iconoclast
I'll expose your lies
This isn't a heart of darkness
This is a heart of light
I'll unwrite your lies
Because now I know
Because now
It's my turn

poem by David Knox
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Express What It Is In Terms That Pleases

Express what it is in terms that pleases.
Do your best to unleash the truth.
Very little of that,
Has manifested intact!

More are obsessed with deluded impressions.
Created for affect.
To keep a conformity in check!
No one is expecting truth,
To be for them today complex.

Express what it is in terms that pleases.
Do your best to unleash the truth.
Very little of that,
Has manifested intact!

However it is done...
None will embrace it.
And the rawness of reality,
Will certainly stun!
These folks have been fantasized,
All of their lives!
The truth you reveal will not appeal.
In fact,
Be prepared to be 'boo-ed'.
Threatened and despised!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Lying Truth

How do we know we are speaking the truth.
Because we got it from a 'reliable' source,
And who told you it was a 'reliable' source.
Ha, Is there any thing that is really called the truth.
For, every 'truth' told in this twisted and sinister world,
A lie is invented, concocted, told.
And when a question is asked, and the truth is required,
And if told, many events, considered dire,
Happen in response,
A white lie is told.
But the whitest lie, considered the truthful lie,
Thought up by those considered wise and selfless,
Is really the darkest, blackest, most deceiving lies of all.
Over time stories, true stories, turn to myths, myths to legends.
so why not lies, white lies too.
Centuries, years, maybe even weeks and days,
Turns the most deceiving and evil lies into the 'truth'.
So I come back to my original question,
But don't misconstrue my words,
For I dear not defy the truth,
The truth, so rare, that passes us unnoticed, unseen, undetected,
The rare truth that exists in this dark, sinister world.
So yes,
How do we know we are speaking the truth.
The truth, the truth, the lie.

poem by Michael Devenish
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The 'Truth

How do we know we are speaking the truth.
Because we got it from a 'reliable' source,
And who told you it was a 'reliable' source.
Ha, Is there any thing that is really called the truth.
For, every 'truth' told in this twisted and sinister world,
A lie is invented, concocted, told.
And when a question is asked, and the truth is required,
And if told, many events, considered dire,
Happen in response,
A white lie is told.
But the whitest lie, considered the truthful lie,
Thought up by those considered wise and selfless,
Is really the darkest, blackest, most deceiving lies of all.
Over time stories, true stories, turn to myths, myths to legends.
so why not lies, white lies too.
Centuries, years, maybe even weeks and days,
Turns the most deceiving and evil lies into the 'truth'.
So I come back to my original question,
But don't misconstrue my words,
For I dear not defy the truth,
The truth, so rare, that passes us unnoticed, unseen, undetected,
The rare truth that exists in this dark, sinister world.
So yes,
How do we know we are speaking the truth.
The truth, the truth, the lie.

poem by Michael Devenish
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Nature Of The Beast

It is the key to all the doors,
It is the crashing on the shores.
It lives in your steering wheel.
It hides in the wind and rain,
With voices as cold as steel
Its calling your name
It is the smile upon his face
It is the winning of the race.
It lives in the red-alert.
It lives in the power game
Its easy to take to heart
But harder to tame
This is the nature of the beast
(this is the nature)
This is the nature of the beast
(this is the nature)
Without all this heat
Theyll be dancing west to east
This is the nature of the beast
It is the glowing in his eyes
It is the reason for his lies
How many know youre there
How many play your game
Hes always the man to dare
Youre always to blame
It is the need to understand
It is the trigger in his hand
It lives in the uniform
It grows from the need to gain
With faces so old and torn
Its calling your name
This is the nature of the beast
(this is the nature)
This is the nature of the beast
(this is the nature)
Without all this heat
Theyll be dancing west to east
This is the nature of the beast.

song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Need You, I Want You

satisfy my hunger, satisfy my greed

satisfy my longing, satisfy my need

satisfy my yearning, satisfy my desire

satisfy my craving, with your hose put out my fire

Take me to paradise, take me away

Take me to heaven, every single day

Feed me with your passion, feed me with your soul

Feed me with your fruit, feed me with your control

I need you to want me, I need you to be here

I need you to control me, for you are my puppeteer

Control me with your love, control me with your mind

control me however you want. I do not mind

For I am under your spell, and whatever you want i will give

For without you i am nothing, without you i do not want to live

poem by Katherine Shaw
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Disingenuousness

Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.

Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:

Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!

Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011

The March of Death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Beast Within The Man

The beastliness of human beings lies
Concealed within the mind and heart and soul,
And gets revealed in favourable climes,
Attaining sinful, selfish perverse goals!

Man inhibits his demeanour by toil,
And exercise of will over body,
By staying always alert, day and night
And listening to his conscience that's right.

If not curtailed, the dormant beast wakes up,
Inciting mind and heart and soul to do
All kinds of heinous crimes and acts,
That can be called unlawful, vice or sin.

The beast within is perilous, a foe,
That serves to satisfy lust and ego,
But lands the man in guilt and shameful rod,
From which escape, reprieve are seldom found!

Beware of beast that mars the character,
And goads a man into demeaning ways,
Ruining life and hard-earned name and fame,
Taking him down the lane to hell and shame!

God gave a conscience to every man,
That can decipher wrong from right and warns
The individual keep the righteous track,
And not believe in body's strength or knack!

So, keep the beast in shackles of your will,
And never give it freedom in the least,
For, it can destroy mind, heart, soul, spirit,
And send sinners to hell eternally!

poem by John Celes
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Whereabouts

Where is the missing one, the missing one
Where is the missing one, the missing one
There is a missing person that Ive just got to find
Now just how long they have been gone
I cant say at this time
I glanced outside my window surprisingly to see
The reflection of a broken man who looked somewhat like me
Im trying to find my whereabouts, what shall I do
When nothing seems to follow through
In me, trying to find my whereabouts, Im turning blue
But wait I may have found a clue
My whereabouts are somewhere in yesterday with you
Where is the missing one, the missing one
I looked inside an album of happy photographs
To try to match the feeling
In the joy I used to have
I travelled through the moments that held a special place
But everytime what came to mind is that smile upon your face
Im trying to find my whereabouts, what shall I do
When nothing seems to follow through
In me, trying to find my whereabouts, Im turning blue
But wait I may have found a clue
My whereabouts are somewhere in yesterday with you
Where is the missing one, the missing one
Im trying to find my whereabouts, what shall I do
When nothing seems to follow through
In me, trying to find my whereabouts, Im turning blue
But wait I may have found a clue
My whereabouts are somewhere lost in yesterday with you
Im trying to find my whereabouts, what can I do
When nothing seems to follow through
In me, trying to find my whereabouts, Im turning blue
But wait I may have found a clue
My whereabouts are somewhere lost in yesterday with you
Where is the missing one, the missing one
(repeat)

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth Be Told

This is the first tale of death in the world
When Cain struck down Abel, a family broken
Since then mankind's dominated his own kind
To insult and injured there's no such thing
As peace, till death do us part
Till that last (truth be told)
Sin lies at the doorway (truth be told)
Hell's open for business now (truth be told)
The soil cries out for revenge (truth be told)
And death is upon the ground, all around
The battle ain't over, without spoils of war
Just 'cause it is written, does not make it so
When you dance with the devil, make sure the song's over
I ask myself how bad do i want you to live
My anger is near
Till that last (truth be told)
Sin lies at the doorway (truth be told)
Hell's open for business now (truth be told)
The soil cries out for revenge (truth be told)
And death is upon the ground
Sin lies at the doorway (truth be told)
Hell's open for business now (truth be told)
The soil cries out for revenge (truth be told)
And death is upon the ground, all around
Solo- Mustaine
Solo- Mustaine
Tribulation strikes again and we're hit hard
Still you just go on your way
Head in the sand, ignoring the rain
Just like the flood in Noah's day
In his day
Solo- Mustaine
Can't punish those ruining the earth
It's suicide to some degree
Because we are all guilty, guilty as sin
There will be no peace, never for you and me
Solo- Mustaine
Before al Qaeda and Bin Laden
Long before Hitler and Hussein
Ever since the first murder was committed
The verdict's always been the same
Been the same, wrong!
Solo- Mustaine
The cursed future just repeats the past
There's hell to pay and stones to cast
So, there will be no peace, never be peace
Till the last truth be told by you and me
Solo- Mustaine

song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Call It Slavery!

how much do we really know?
how much of what we think we know
is the truth?
can we handle the truth?

most of what we read in the papers,
most of what our politicians tell us,
most of what we see on the news...
is a carefully directed lie!

we have been owned for decades,
herded like sheep to the slaughter,
manipulated and used by an unseen hand,
for a purpose that only they know...

conspiracy? no, more a global mission,
complete control of the world,
complete control of the future...
as Dylan said: 'only pawns in their game...'

they've kept us divided by the use of fears
that are based in ignorance....
kept us marching to their drum...
call it patriotism, or religious right....

i call it slavery!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Victory or Death?

All abhor war but wars are there!
Beyond all means only war comes;
Crossing all line of control of peace
Danger of war begins to decide crisis.

Every means is followed to win war!
Fools or intellectuals, war is a game;
Gaining control over weak is victory!

Human nature succumbs to animal one;
I is what stands before despite justice is
Joining hands with supporters as friends!

Kind and truth loving hearts have no place!
Last resort to save life is surrender only;
Many battles are won with no one to enjoy!

Nobody likes war but none can stop it!
Of all crimes, killing is no crime in war!
Power keeps all at bay with awe in war!

Queen waits for seeing victory of lover;
Rooks, camels and horses die for men;
Soldiers are pawns in the hands of king!

Troops march on, men may win or die!
Universal declaration of peace is illusion;
Victory is the only goal in war of any kind;
World of woes by wars never sees shore!

Xena, the warrior queen is also famous...!
Yesterday, today and tomorrow wars are
Zeroing on targets to kiss victory or death!

poem by Ramesh T A
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