Until Your Face Turns Blue Or Red
You can attack what I've said all you want.
In fact you have an open invitation.
But you will never be able to decipher,
What is in my head.
You can dig with a shovel...
Until your face turns blue or red.
To chill or heat from what's been said.
Or determine to conclude from what you've read!
You are not aware from where my thoughts begin.
Or 'who' is behind the 'what'
That influences them!
There is a process that has no specific beginning,
Or an ending that could satisfy me within.
My tongue unleashes with words that seem to spin...
From eyes I have not yet seen,
And apparently neither does 'this thing' screen.
Revealing with a meaning,
From other dimensions we exist in!
Defining with comprehension,
As I receive these mental visions.
I am used like a human instrument...
With a consciousness,
I am neither for nor against...
As I am just the participant.
And accepting how this happens without a defense,
That pleases me to know it is intended!
Like you,
I too am a witness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXVI: One in a Million
A million feeling, one story
One feeling, a million story
A million question, one anxiety
One question, a million anxieties
A million smile, one meaning
One smile, a million meaning
A million languages, one will
One language, a million will
A million anger, one reaction
One anger, a million reaction
A million beginning, one ending
One beginning, a million ending
A million face, one heart
One face, a million hearts
A million dream, one happiness
One dream, a million happiness
A million love, one human
One love, a million human
A million trouble, one way
One trouble, a million ways
A million arts, one impression
One art, a million impressions
A million witness, one event
One witness, a million event
A million memories, one fact
One memory, a million facts
A million chance, one choice
One chance, a million choices
A million lives, one hope
One life, a million hope
A million reason, one lie
One reason, a million lie
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Label Yourself Anything You Wish
Why is it that you feel,
You 'must' seek a definition...
To label me and what it is I do?
And I should fit comfortably within,
Your limited boundaries?
If that works for 'you...
Fine!
Haven't I already 'suggested' to you,
Approval and acceptance are not words...
In my vocabulary?
In fact...
I think the notion of both is ridiculous!
Why are you staring at me like that?
It's true.
I do!
Can we at least agree,
You have visions of building bigger boxes.
And I will always find a way to look outside of them!
There is no need to ruin your indigestion over this.
Or roll your eyes.
Call me names.
Or do your offensive thing!
You...
Not me,
Waste time!
I've stated to you...
You can label yourself anything you wish.
Great.
The Best.
Untouchable.
Monkey Doodle...
Whatever!
I-am-not-into-that...period.
What you do...
And how you achieve 'mental security'
Is 'not' going to change...
What OR 'whom' with an 'It' or an 'Is',
That provides my insight.
And that is 'not' YOU!
It will 'never' be you!
Why are you on my doorstep,
Trying to convince me of that?
Why can't you just go home and relax?
Chill out?
Why is it you've got me in your head like that?
You've got to be sexually frustrated!
Or severely impaired by a lack of comprehension!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Changing Dimensions Seen
Changing dimensions seen.
No retracting to step back.
Changing dimensions seen.
The past is gone and that's a fact.
Changing dimensions seen.
Changing dimensions seen.
A consciousness has been uplifted.
Changing dimensions seen.
And gone are all those flaws abhorred.
Changing dimensions seen.
Those bigoted with prejudice...
Find they've been dismissed.
And...
Changing dimensions seen.
Changing dimensions seen.
People sharing with a caring.
Changing dimensions seen.
And racists are considered sick.
Changing dimensions seen.
Changing dimensions seen.
A consciousness has been uplifted.
Changing dimensions seen.
And gone are all those flaws abhorred.
Changing dimensions seen.
Those bigoted with prejudice...
Find they've been dismissed and quick!
Changing dimensions seen.
Changing dimensions seen.
And...
No retracting to step back.
Changing dimensions seen.
The past is gone and that's a fact.
Changing dimensions seen.
That peace resisted over-rules,
And those who cling to hate are fools.
Changing dimensions seen.
And...
Changing dimensions seen.
And...
Changing dimensions seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poeticating What a Poeticator 'Do
Blank is my mind like a canvas.
Not filled with disarray or confused with thoughts.
A melody may come into mind.
Finding an image!
And thinking of a time...
To begin a poetic line,
That may or may not rhyme.
As a mental search begins,
Defining an image.
Before surrounding that with meaning.
Something accessible.
Lean!
And has comprehension in it that screams.
Bites!
Then frame it with...
A title meant for it!
That's the task of one who 'poeticates'.
In creative ways...
That uses the reader as baited prey!
'Poeticates? Po-et-o-cates, okay?
One who is in the process of preparing,
A poetic verse to be spoken publicly! '
If it sounds good,
Make your own stuff up!
That's all it is anyway!
Finding something that connects.
And reflects with anticipation.
Not to be confused with po' etiquette!
And depending on the nature of the 'piece'...
That too is invited!
Poeticating what a poeticator 'do' when done!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Creation of His Wish
Can we detach ourselves from distractions?
Can we allow explorations to expand within our minds,
And finding the Universe more than a place
Confining us to taste limitations?
There is so much for us to perceive.
So much to adventure and much more to receive!
On a threaded existence that's how we survive.
Just one snap of that thread and time for us is denied.
This living 'thing' we call cosmic space...
Has much more to offer us,
Something 'divine'
Keep Earth's spin in place.
We hold on to concepts that we alone exist.
And yet there is proof other beings pay us visits!
Many are in denial with thoughts of disbelief.
Close your eyes and view what is seen...
A vastness we are part of,
And yet out of our reach!
Something is there to attract us to IT!
A consciousness more developed,
Must certainly exist!
Can we detach ourselves from distractions,
To ask this entity...
For a more enlightened state of mind,
Such as 'that' which we can not see?
We pray to God to materialize wishes...
And God is ALL of IT!
If we can detach ourselves from distractions...
More 'gifts' from God will come to benefit.
Since all that is witnessed is a creation of His wish!
If we can detach ourselves from distractions...
We can see God in ALL of 'this'!
There is so much for us to perceive.
So much to adventure and much more to receive!
Can you and me...
They and we,
Detach ourselves from distractions,
To validate our destiny?
If 'anything' is possible for God to provide,
Love and peace are not mere illusions...
But in fact realities!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Help Me
I love David, but he lives so far away from me. In
fact, he lives in his own world and I know that he
doesn't know me. I saw his picture in a book. I know
I'm not existent for ‘im, but I love ‘im so much. He's
existent for me. I want to meet ‘im to make this love
become real, but I read all his books and I know that
I have no chance. Even so, I still want to do this. I must
hide my intentions, firstly. Yes, I know what I have to do.
I'll send ‘im a letter writing that I want to meet ‘im for
a different reason. I‘ll lie. He will believe me. It ‘ll be an
ideal lie. Slowly, I can become his ideal woman. In time, I hope
that he'll fall in love with me. Apparently, the feelings of
love will come from ‘im, and I'll be that person needing
time to think about this. My thoughts will ne'er be an open
book for ‘im, because my little lie can fail. I can play this game
all my life ne'er letting ‘im discover the naked truth. I can hide
my consciousness. It is easy for me to do this, but I don't know
if I can lie about myself all life. Probably, I'll become an old
woman lying herself to survive. I don't know how many years
I can keep my consciousness in this sad ontological duality
Between being myself and being someone else in his eyes, at
the same time. I know that it ain't good what I'm doing, but
I'm desperately in love with ‘im. I remember that Descartes
wrote that ''we perceive ideas as objects''. Even I'm so
desperately in love with ‘im, I cannot accept this love to
become the object of my lie. Moreover, I cannot deny myself,
even I love my writer so much. My mother told me once that
she thinks that love belongs only to human beings. She said
that love is God becoming feelings inside of us. I remember
that I replied that love is in itself, because even God loves us.
I told her about Cusanus, who wrote that 'the world is not God
but is not anything other than God'. ''Much more than love, God
is truth, she said, because He is ''the fullness of being'." Yes'', I said,
‘'He is uncreated and creates, He gives being out o' nothing after
negating His antithetical nothingness''. I was so happy in that
moment being with God and waiting for a miracle to happen. Now,
those beautiful words seemingly lost their meaning for me. I can
see myself in the future, a very sad woman.I don't want my
consciousness to become a negation. I'm afraid o' this, while being
aware that my love is dying in self. If I wouldn't have Eckhart in my mind,
probably I'd have more courage.I love David and I'm so unhappy!
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Such A Revealing Thing To Witness
People have created their own realities.
To find themselves blocked...
In a head lock.
With a mental strain that drains them,
Physically and emotionally.
And the days they could have stopped,
A clinging onto a superficial existence...
Has from them gone.
And the act of pointing fingers,
That seems to be acceptably done by everyone...
Is such a revealing thing to witness,
About those thoughts one has...
Regarding their own accountability!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Spontaneity
on a spontaneity
i begin to put words,
whatever comes, without much selection process
i put the word
without so much scrutiny as to what happens next
without weighing the possible consequences
i know the law of physics
much more the rules of a good composition
we were taught that in the university
but the the rules true to its standing
are meant to be broken
one gets a style of his own depending on the
kind of grief
the face of joy the state of compulsion
the phobia and the scruples that
crowd the head
the heart,
i sit on the chair facing the screen of the computer
and begin to put the line of words
one by one
like they are vines growing right from my mouth
coming out from my chest
and then
something shows
a face of words, the eyes of the certain mood,
someone moves in there
dancing and then stopping
on a pause
confrontational about what is this all about
and why.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Process
Leave them alone!
You pose a threat,
To their process.
'Huh?
Their process?
What Process?
Their process doesn't exist! '
Sssshhh...
Quietly.
That's why you must leave them alone.
They are not aware of it.
And you...
Trying to get them to make some sense,
Is upsetting.
Just go along with it.
'Go along with what? '
The 'process'.
'But it doesn't exist.'
You know it and I know it.
Why can't you just leave it alone...
And let them pretend?
Why is it so important to you,
That they become aware and conscious?
Why?
There are several other charities,
To which you can donate your time and efforts.
In this case...
These minds have already been wasted.
Trust me.
Why do you think I whisper to you?
There are only a few of us left with the power to think.
Trust me?
Why do you think I whisper to you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Experiment with truth, now with instrument
Experiment with truth,
Now with instrument
A TV programme is
Presently being aired
Where telling truths
Will help a person
Win rupees to the tune of a crore
Truth is here defined
As telling what is there
In the thought
Truth is sharing your thought,
Which most of us
Will not like to do
As many of us
Nurse bad, wild and ugly thoughts
This programme
With the award it projects
Induces people to come out
With what they thought, think and will think
At a specific a past, present and
Probable possible future event
An instrument, they call it polygraph
Detects whether what is said is true or otherwise
As it is capable of
Recording changes in
Blood pressure,
Pulse rate,
Electrocardiogram
And similar other
Changes in circulatory and nervous systems
That occur
When a person misrepresents
His thought
This programme is held
In the presence of persons
Involved in the participant’s life
All look fine till the time
When the truth shared by the person
Revolves around him/her and
Does not surface the actual thought process
With regard to the relationships
With others,
And especially those who are on the stage
And witnessing the event
Though the participant can
Have the satisfaction of
Having shared his/her thoughts
People in his/her life
Are coming to know
Who actually the participant is
And this understanding
Has the potential to break relationships
Beyond repair
While truth pays
It lays foundation
For hatred
Experimenting the truth
Within is spiritual and
Experimenting the truth
Without is commercial
Truth triumphs
If a clear cut battle line is drawn
Between truly true
And truly otherwise people
Truth never changes
But in this instrumental experimentation
With thoughts forming the base
So called truths change
As thoughts change with
Changing environ and experience
So branding some of the
Declarations of the participants
As True or otherwise
Is unacceptable to those
Who believe in truth
Truth wins wealth
In this programme
But, truth really wins people’s hearts
And brings them nearer
Not breaks their relations,
Which this declaration for the sake
Of winning currency can do
It is enough if you know
What you think
You need not put them across
To earn a wealth
As this could threaten
Relationships on which foundation
The entire human race rests
Be truthful
For the sake of being truthful
Not for the sake of becoming rich
Truth is truth
Only when it can unite people
And it is not truth
If it can bring in disunity
Even the life sustaining oxygen gas
Has to be inhaled with
Other gases as well
And then only it will be
Beneficially absorbed and be helpful
In ensuring survival
So too is truth
Truth is like fire
Play with it safely
Unsafe and overindulgence
May engulf human race
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Some Took The Words Away
Poor head
Can hardly move my lips for speaking
I said
So, what is this thing I cannot explain?
I'd blame all the things I feel but can't quite place
Perhaps they're written on my face
Someone took the words away
Why don't you speak up and say what you mean?
Summon my powers of conversation
I talk to myself,
I'm fine
When you're around,
Then I decline the invitation
It's strange to finally find myself so tongue-tied
A change has come over me
I'm powerless to express
Every thing I know but cannot speak
And if I try my voice will break
Someone took the words away
Someone took the words away
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only When It Is Conducive
Am I offended by your limited comprehension?
Sometimes.
When thoughts I could have saved...
Bravely fought through your ignorance.
Am I offended by your pretense?
Only when it is conducive.
And I am aware of the excuses used,
By someone insecure.
And flaunting their own mental abuse.
Do I feel a need to free myself sometimes?
Yes!
Especially when I am smothered...
By others who are vacant.
Or just absent with no minds.
Am I offended by your limited comprehension?
Sometimes.
When thoughts I could have saved...
Bravely fought through your ignorance.
Am I offended by your pretense?
Only when it is conducive.
And I am aware of the excuses used,
By someone insecure.
And flaunting their own mental abuse.
However...
I am never that detached from free amusements.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A politician will always tip off his true belief by stating the opposite at the beginning of the sentence. For maximum comprehension, do not start listening until the first clause is concluded. Begin instead at the word "but" which begins the second, or active, clause. This is the way to tell a liberal from a conservative -- before they tell you.
Thus: "I have always believed in a strong national defense, second to none, but ... " (a liberal, about to propose a $20 billion defense cut).
quote by Frank Mankiewicz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Nightmares Won't Stop
The nightmares won't stop
The thought process won't drop
You lie on the floor shaking
What is this you see?
Is it a dream or a reality
A question to explain away evil
If it is plausible not to exist
Then maybe its fake
Your not drowning in a black lake
Your not being bitten poisonous snake
Your not really awake
It is all in your head
An over active imagination
A mental complication
What a realization
Then comes another sensation
The nightmares won't stop
The thought process won't drop
You lie on the floor shaking
What is this you see?
Is it a dream or a reality
A question to explain away evil
If it is plausible not to exist
It also could be
You pinch your skin to see if this is
Your trying to open your eyes
if only to see
Their must be something you missed
Explaining away the possibility of your demise
The nightmares won't stop
The thought process won't drop
You lie on the floor shaking
What is this you see?
Is it a dream or a reality
A question to explain away evil
If it is plausible not to exist
Then when that coffin you lie in with spikes comes closed
You'll wake up alive with all your cloths
But look at all holes
Their mere shreds
How is that possible?
A mental transference of the material
Then the question comes did you wake into another dream
This is a sickness and a disease
If only solving it could be a breeze
The nightmares won't stop
The thought process won't drop
You lie on the floor shaking
What is this you see?
Is it a dream or a reality
A question to explain away evil
If it is plausible not to exist
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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This Is Going To Be A Long Ride
My observations are never premeditated.
With a plan to only accept that which I believe.
I experience a witnessing,
As a student willing to learn.
I take notes whether mental or written.
And free myself from regurgitating quotes,
To whisper into ears to then leave.
I'm not like that.
What I describe is viewed with my eyes.
And what I hear is seldom my own sentiments.
Although when I see something that should be clear,
But to others it is not as it appears...
I wonder when my delusions have ended.
And how many conscious aren't aware when they start.
I'm not like that either.
Could we all be confused,
And refuse to accept we've been abused and neglected...
By our own delusions?
Could we all be wishing what we witness isn't what it is.
To admit what is does exist without the benefit of our wishes?
Could my observations perceived as not being premeditated,
Be, in fact, a comforting of a trap...
My mind extends to enhance my comprehension?
Or...
Could I just be needing rest and have yet to confess,
I can use as much of it as I can get?
'Yes! '
I'm sorry.
I am having a personal self assessment.
Am I disturbing you?
'Yes.
I am hoping your 'self-assessment'...
Soon ends as to not to further prolong,
My 'already' too long bus ride.
But who knows...
Maybe I am confused AND deluded! '
I apologize.
I didn't realize I was speaking that loudly.
'No problem.
I do the same thing myself.
At home.
Alone.
When I'm seeking an intelligent conversation.'
Oh.
I agree with you.
This is going to be a long ride.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Observed and Watched
No probing done to unearth artifacts,
Will begin to scratch the surface...
Of the thought process of anyone.
Or is the measuring of one's brain,
Going to reveal the extent of one's brilliance.
Or lack of integrity.
Will having a college degree,
Determine's one ability to steal?
Lie or cheat.
Can someone seen picking up cans,
Off a city street...
Be a genius.
Are there more scholars that are poor...
And living in ghettos?
Why do those who 'appear' to be enriched with means,
Are those who did not participate in the acquiring of them...
At all!
Those of 'hand-me-down' status.
Of wealth. resources...
Socialite insecurities.
Those who have made countries poor...
For the sake of maintaining their 'interests'.
No probing done to unearth artifacts,
Will begin to scratch the surface...
Of the thought process of anyone.
Or is the measuring of one's brain,
Going to reveal the extent of one's brilliance.
Or lack of integrity.
Or...
Will those concerns all of us should have for humanity,
Come as priorities to address in someone's head.
Mother Nature knows where everything of 'hers' should fit!
Which of her inhabitants are of intelligence...
And those who are clearly exposed as misfits!
No suit or tie or ballroom gown can disguise this.
And incompetence that rises to the top...
Will begin to show its destructive power.
As observed and watched!
'Isn't that the same thing?
To observe is to watch.
Isn't it? '
~Welllllll...yeeeeeaaassss,
And no!
The act of observing,
Does not necessarily imply a process of examination...
Goes on.
And...
Done it is conducted,
With less discrimination to obstruct.
However,
When one is into the 'art' of watching...
One takes a comprehension stance.
One may adopt this as a project.
To confirm beliefs!
There is something that will be learned from it!
Something that will be digested.
To sink into the mind...
Eventually.
NOW...
As to who's expense the watching done,
Will benefit?
That depends on who believes deceit pays dividends!
AND...
From the watcher's findings,
These dividends do not have long range satisfactions.
No!
In fact...
Many are left to suffer the consequences of their ways!
Crime does not pay.
It just delays the heat turned up on a burning butt.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist
Whatever is given.
And however that is meant.
Why do many get upset,
When they receive exactly...
What to them has been sent!
Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist
Why is it believed,
By some.
What they do that has been done,
Is okay?
And an acceptance of it,
Should be kept that way.
Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist
Too many people are the 'cause'.
And not the solution to prevent.
Or a pause that should be long taken,
With no attention given spent.
Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist
Some have established themselves as 'saints'.
While others full of themselves,
Do not have to eliminate a single thing...
To emanate fumes from them that 'stink'.
And/or past tense from them that 'stank'!
Whatever is the preference.
Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist
With their quick judgements to pass.
Like fresh air blocking gas.
A picture alone,
Paints a thousand words.
Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist
Whatever is given.
And however that is meant.
Why do many get upset,
When they receive exactly...
What to them has been sent!
As intended upon the return ot it.
Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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None of That Sounded Like Sex to Me
~Noticing begins to open the mind.
Much like what Sunrise does upon the horizon...
When its light etches the darkness away from night,
With definition seen to highlight one's assisted vision.
And the brighter that light becomes,
An object begins to develop identity and cast a shadow.
As if attached to aid its meaning.
However...
When those clouds come,
And sometimes they do.
Expect some confusion to be done.
Since it will be difficult to determine,
If it will rain.
And...
That just may happen with or without lightening.
And/or no doubt with thunder.~
'With or without...
And slash or no doubt?
Don't they mean almost the same thing? '
~Huh?
What are you talking about? ~
'The lightening and thunder...
If it should come with clouds? '
~WHAT?
What does lightening and thunder have to do with it?
You kids don't listen with your ears or pay attention.
I'm talking about the birth of comprehension.
None of that has to do with lightening.
Maybe a bit of 'thunder' but rarely with lightening.~
'The birth of what?
None of that sounded like sex to me.'
~Your Honor...
If I may have a few words in my defense.
I need to explain why I stand before you today.
You see...
One of us had to be locked up.
So I knew If I 'tried' to knock some sense in his head...
It would be me found guilty! ~
'And Daddy...
That's why it's hard to listen to you at times.
Because you jump from subject to subject!
AND...
Don't worry about going to prison.
I'm going to volunteer to runaway.'
~When? How soon?
You need some money?
How much? ~
'See. See?
That's exactly what I'm talking about.
You're always joking.'
~Son...
Please take me seriously.
That's all I ask.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Pursuit of a Poetry Prize
I’m constructing a poem in a strategic new way.
So they won’t comprehend what I’m trying to say.
For a poetry contest with a fabulous prize,
I studied what seems to attract judges’ eyes.
I was reading the ones recognized in the past,
seeking form and design for the words I will cast,
when I noticed a pattern, a key to their prose,
illogical thoughts in unorganized rows.
The first verse confuses, that’s part of the game.
The second verse vague, just more of the same.
Like, “In the beginning the ending was near, ”
or, “We basked in an ardent recollection of fear.”
They conclude with some incomprehensible phrase,
like, “The prolific embrace of our foregone days.”
Ideas aren't finished in these literary events,
and it seems they avoid any words that make sense.
When they don’t understand, it becomes a deep thought.
In depth they will ponder what meaning was sought.
They'll scoff if you've written a limerick or rhyme,
then cast it aside as a waste of their time.
I'll likely be banned, or be forced to concede,
but I'm sharing the secret it takes to succeed;
Don't stress over structure or fret about flow,
use thoughts you don’t have and words you don’t know.
poem by Kevin Pace
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Status Quo [Revised]
Reaction to a snack of substances my digestion
rejects as banned has me staring at this screen
in stupefaction - unable to interpret anything
Floating in an emotional void, clinging to the fact
I’m in an office, trying to read and react to texts
that remain mysterious to me, at least this way
The world will still be a mystery; I cannot achieve
mastery of anything while consciousness flickers
on and off, caught in the wild fire of interrupted
Brain circuitry & gyrating synapses, dark spots
in front of my eyes weakening my sight, desperately
trying to do research till I give up, sit back in defeat,
Power spent, admit the day is lost, cannot find the
beginning of a line of thought, cannot follow a single
argument, even pictures dance away from me,
surrendering to the confusion, accepting the
chaos in my mind as status quo…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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