Up Against The Walls They Installed
At any price their decadence is wished.
An opportunity to be lifted away from it,
Keeps them at a distance!
Becoming suspicious.
What has been theirs for centuries declared...
Now faces scrutiny.
A mutiny leaves them unprepared!
That rubbish about trust,
Has been thrusted into a limelight.
This does not please those of historical deceit.
They are not accustomed to this kind of treachery.
Tethered by their own need to feed greed.
And from it,
They are hoping not to retreat.
This dishonesty cloaked,
Promises to expose them to those on the streets!
And leaks of this kind,
Finds them appalled!
A charading masquerade finally comes to a stall.
With blemishes once hidden and seducing those betrayed,
Now shown to be the nature of their flaws displayed!
Leaving them with their values and standards of life...
Up against the walls they've installed,
At the lowest grade they've kept shaded!
As they enforce sufferings endured by all.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Because of Their Standards, Values and Interests
You see them?
They are the ones...
The very same people,
Who declared themselves victims...
Of enemies.
And those enemies obstructed,
Their progress and efforts made.
With frustrations that prevented...
Benefits they struggled to get,
For all of the people they represented.
They were supported.
And believed.
You see them?
They are the same folks,
Who knowingly backed themselves into a hole.
With the selling of false goods.
To reveal themselves less than angels.
And adorned with tainted halos.
And in disbelief...
They were comforted by those unconscious.
Who further supported them.
Even stronger.
You see them?
They are the ones,
Who declared they had enemies.
Backed themselves into hole.
Exposed themselves as less than angels.
Fed their greed exclusively.
And in discreet secretly...
Deceived.
And now with heads bowed,
They make public appearances to profess...
Unity is needed and must be addressed.
Since those enemies declared they claimed,
Are preparing to make announcements...
That financial arrangements,
With loans made that must be paid.
Has extended the patience of their 'enemies'.
And those 'enemies' could care less,
What charades played in masquerade...
Is in need of more time,
For a promised kept silence...
To ease unwarranted stress.
Because of their standards, values and interests,
Those less than honest...
Are about to lose even their decadence.
And they are hoping their 'enemies'
Show them more respect...
Than they have shown.
A marketing of decadence...
They confess is a creation they own.
With no discipline to invest,
In the correction of this themselves!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Effective Etiquette
Representing a decadence this is...
Represents its existence,
As it is and this is clear.
To uphold values and standards,
Many rush to come to defend...
Is hypocritical in presentation.
When a marketing of decadence,
Does not offend.
Until...
One elected,
To sit in a prestigious position...
Lies and denies a taste for lust.
With an innocence trusted,
Adored by those upper crust.
But...
That trust becomes busted.
And pretentiousness kept,
Becomes betrayed.
And those who know...
Their values and standards,
Meet an acquired effective etiquette...
Are seen to be embarrassed,
By a smearing done to their politcal correctness!
Oh...
What a feeble web they live to weave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Divisions They Have Created
Observing those taking offense,
Against policies and initiatives they implemented...
Is like listening to someone complain,
About the price of cigarettes and gasoline...
While waiting in line to purchase them at any cost.
People have grown accustomed to debating themselves.
As if those overhearing them,
Become attracted to the redundance of the limited topics.
Divisions they have created,
Have outdated realities.
They refer to the 'others' as those on the 'left'.
And yet,
They are 'right'...
With their insignificant infighting complimented with backbites.
Their own divisions they have created,
Escalated devastation.
Clearly they are a people of greed,
Wanting more of it for themselves to feed.
With an outsourcing of jobs...
For cheaper labor to pay as their economy slipped away.
They were the ones to oversee this travesty,
As a means to quietly lift themselves...
To the land of abundant gluttony.
Divisions they have created,
Deletes the fact of their discreeted deceit.
As their own hands dipped
While a diminishing of beliefs of those values and standards,
Were going unpoliced!
They speak of a greatness only reviewed on sporting fields.
They speak of a greatness on streets of decadence no one feels.
To lead is to know how to follow.
To greed is to know how to follow those like this who lead.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cloaked and Hidden Agenda
You think I can't see through your strategy?
Or your cloaked and hidden agenda.
You think your creepiness comes to bother me?
Or your cloaked and hidden agenda.
You think me to be weak and a bit naïve.
You think my eyes are closed to your deceit.
But I'm a product of these urban streets!
And that cloaked and hidden agenda.
I've got a remedy to chill the heat,
Of that cloaked and hidden agenda.
We'll see which one is stunned with frozen feet.
When you free that hidden agenda.
My mind is not blinded or fast asleep.
I see right through you and I don't have to peep.
That repeated game will be your defeat.
With that cloaked and hidden agenda!
You think I can't see through your strategy?
Or your cloaked and hidden agenda.
You think me to be weak and a bit naïve.
You think my eyes are closed to your deceit.
But I'm a product of these urban streets!
And that cloaked and hidden agenda.
I've got a remedy to chill the heat.
We'll see which one is stunned with frozen feet.
You think me to be weak and a bit naïve.
But I'll beat that hidden agenda!
Those tactics that you use will be put to bed.
With everything you've done and everything you've said.
And I'm going to be the one to end your dread.
And your cloaked and hidden agenda!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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These are Values and Standards Kept Within
Deliberate and scheduled maintenance,
Prevents foundations from becoming weak.
Boosts and bolsters securities monitored
And reflects a respect given.
Twenty four hours,
Each and every day each week.
A pride is shown!
With a discipline that seems to be attached,
To unquestioned competence.
A strength beams to gleam in a constant glow.
And support of it is given, bestowed and not hidden.
As if understood and unmistakably comprehended.
These are Values and Standards Kept Within
These are values and standards,
Kept within.
Kept within.
Kept within.
These are values and standards,
Kept within.
Kept within.
Kept within.
These are Values and Standards Kept Within
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What's Kept Safe Today?
They make claims that are wished,
With announcements delivered to dish.
With the same hollowed tiredness...
To kepp 'this' safe!
A land upon which,
Rules made...
They are the first to break,
Excuse and dismiss!
What's kept safe today?
A way of life...
With a quality,
That has progressively decayed?
What's kept safe today?
A planned career one takes...
To find administrators and top executives,
Are earning lots more pay.
And cutting jobs...
To outsource them away?
What's kept safe today?
An investment in homes...
With money borrowed on sky high interests,
From institutions...
Knowingly,
Providing tainted loans?
What's kept safe today?
Elected officials there to monitor with goodwill?
Only to discover them corrupt...
And incompetently sleeping,
At the wheel.
Driving blinded!
As the innocent are killed!
What's kept safe today?
Borders unprotected.
Continuing to go neglected.
With an indifference shown...
Or at least suspected!
what; s kept safe today?
A dollar sliding into worthlessness.
With debts held by others...
Who could care less,
Who suffers from a propaganda.
Exclaiming whose 'values' are threatened!
And who's standards are better.
Or greater than the rest!
What's kept safe today?
Dreams and hopes...
Slipping?
And schemed to be erased?
By those in high places.
With smiles on their faces.
And igniting a rascistness...
To build and infest.
What's kept safe today?
A stabbing in the back.
By the very ones who stir terrorists attacks.
With a desire to bleed,
Those in need.
And spread deceit and gloom.
While they feed their greed...
In the safety of secrets.
As they pocket and run.
From a doom they have begun!
Leaving in delight...
Those who fight over,
Who is on the left side...
Of those choosing to remain,
In the dark on the right!
What's kept safe today?
A constant dimming of the light!
And the cost to pay the price to keep,
This kind of self righteous isolated way of life!
Lead by those leading the 'sheep' into blight!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Of Deceit and Honorable Hypocrisy!
People aren't just thrusted into the limelight,
For doing absolutely nothing.
They may be seen doing absolutely nothing noteworthy,
When they are actually there.
But to come from nowhere...
To then be everywhere?
With a hype unlike found under microscope,
Day and night!
To then proclaim...
An unawareness?
Not too many of us 'trip' like this!
And not to intentionally bring attention upon oneself?
Even lunatics can create better excuses.
People aren't just thrusted into the limelight,
For doing absolutely nothing.
That's been done too many times by those who create wars.
Those who stick their busy noses into places...
Then proclaim an innocence.
Like a child found with a mouthful of mints.
After being told too many times...
Lieing does not make sense!
When their misdeeds are exposed,
With a spreading of the evidence.
And pictures of them posing wickedly,
Smiling in front of unusually familiar...
Although conquered foreign doors.
Knowing they've been warned many times before.
People aren't just thrusted into the limelight,
For doing absolutely nothing.
Something done that they did or do,
Got them exactly what they wanted.
With the aid of those who empathize,
With lies reeking...
Of deceit and honorable hypocrisy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Implanted Tragedies
What could be possibly said,
About that which is observed and denied?
When those are exposed to treason imposed...
And yet wish to protect this deception they chose.
It is best to shut and keep one's mouth closed.
Or defamation of character becomes a campaign toast.
But either way...
A stepping on one's toes is desrespectfully displayed.
What could be possibly said,
About what is there and on our streets?
With no direct discussion concerning what disgusts,
Other than what fibered diet is suitable for a regular flush...
That can not be beaten with a cleansing complete.
Without negativity thrusted with more trust,
That erupts!
People feed on corruption as if being fed a treat.
What could be possibly said,
To those addicted to be lead.
And be fed delusions they fight,
To keep in their heads in darkness,
As if glued to ensure this remains inside,
Snug fitting with a tightness instead.
While those who express they could care less,
Yet complain...
Seem to have a desire to inspire this,
As missions to claimed.
Leaving one to wonder,
Why many read the obituaries...
With a priority to see if their names are there.
Or someone they knew,
But never approached to speak to.
By the same folks who declare a devotion,
To communal unity with an ongoing hypocrisy.
What could be possibly said,
About these implanted tragedies.
Without negativity thrusted with more trust,
That erupts!
People feed on corruption as if being fed a treat.
What could be possibly said,
To awaken the dead?
Absolutely nothing!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Slipping of Meet Notes
Accustomed to lies.
What does the truth really mean?
Accustomed to lies laying low on the scene!
Accustomed to tell them...
And protect when told.
Accustomed to lies,
Whether fresh released or old held on hold!
Accustomed to lies...
Without a bat of an eyelash moving!
Accustomed to lies.
Dishonesty is accepted and shown.
At the work place
Where the slipping of meet notes,
Does not provoke disdain.
Accustomed to lies...
And that's how our lives remain!
In heated sex away from home!
Regardless of who spies on another,
Both buffer their suffering by what's condoned.
Accustomed to lies...
And what is taught is always known!
Accustomed to lies.
Accustomed to holding on to them,
Until time flys!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Hot Iron
Expose her,
Expose him,
But on the stage like the ceasefire after the war! !
But, whose guns killed these people?
Reverent,
Dignified,
Filthy lucre!
Breed, greed, reed, need, deed, feed, heed, peed, seed, teed, weed;
But new and inexperience! !
However, the conduct of yourself was like the boldness of your sweet love.
You are giving heed to seducing spirits and the doctrine of demons!
And like a hot iron in the land of your muse;
But founded with the law to expose him or her! !
However, a righteous degree is the way of life than the negative chains of war.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Daring To Be Self Righteous
Wouldn't it be great,
If our moods and values...
Had standards that were consistent?
And we weren't judging the depth taken,
Of someone's moral fiber dipped in decadence.
From a point of view that criticizes,
While we live our own hypocritical lives...
Daring to be self righteous,
As we all continue to patronize the height of sleaze.
And doing our best to climb that ladder with ease.
With a feeling to be entitled.
Wouldn't it be great,
If our moods and values...
Had standards that were consistent?
Although when publicized publicly...
There is a need instantly to defend a discipline,
That does not exist.
And when someone admits to us what we can kiss,
Immediately we become appalled.
With a wish to censor the innocence of 'children'...
Who are directly marketed to be as filthy as possible,
With the consent of all claiming to be 'trendy' and progressive.
Wouldn't it be great,
If our moods and values...
Had standards that were consistent?
And there was a benefit to our pretentions,
That were not so obviously seen cracking at the seams.
And our motives were not so obviously confused,
With a making of sense that today is nonexistent.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What For Them Will Be Their Just Reward
Beginning to grieve their own imperfections,
They seek 'immediate' relief...
From the sight of their flaws and blemishes,
They have begun to witness.
Yet for years by others seen,
Even though those same 'flaws' and 'blemishes',
Now declared too painful...
Have agonized others who have suffered...
With a tolerance,
Of sacrificing all of their lifes...
Enduring being afflicted by them.
With no one attempting to heal or mend,
The scars they have had to pretend were not felt.
Or for 'them' and those before them,
Carried.
But did dare not to say,
Existed!
What for them and those before them,
Will be their just reward?
Apologies?
Ointments?
Bandages to mask their wounds?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Permanently Affixed
Too many people seek distractions.
Hoping facts never to face.
Praying for a deceit that fits.
Too many people seek attractions.
With a hope to distract facts,
That someday from them will be erased.
And those masks worn to replace,
Faces charading become permanently...
Affixed.
Leaving distacted faces masked,
Never again to face facts with hopes...
Delusions will never from them be erased.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Piranhas
We can not blame anyone for ripping someone off!
Have we not extended blessings...
To anyone acquiring opulence.
And living to feed gluttony,
At our expense to dispense upon our imaginations.
While we entertain having champagne dreams and caviar wishes.
We have been fed to be greedy people.
We are even instructed...
To have the needs of our cravings met.
Through prayer and devotion to symbolism.
It all has been there.
Even enemies have been created for sport and profit!
Until those on the 'inside' could not stop it!
And like piranhas who feed...
They could care less who's flesh they are fed.
Especially if a system encourages the greed.
With hypocrites insisting...
These standards and values should be perceived.
As a way of life that exhalts a decency!
And a spreading of a democracy enforced...
With capitalism induced and endorsed!
WHO can divorce from these addictions,
If from birth one has been afflicted,
And upon this encouraged to nourish!
WHO you?
I've still got my eye on that Mercedes.
Forest green with mahogany accents in the interior.
Plush with lambskin.
Hoping my ship comes in.
I will be extremely disappointed...
If I should witness it sinking on the horizon.
My visions have me at least test driving the thing!
How long is this 'crisis' gonna last anyway?
Two-three weeks?
Any more than that...
Someone will have to peel me off the walls.
I am 'not' entitled to that kind of sacrifice.
There is nothing coming out of Hollywood that says that I should!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Effectiveness That Has Manifested
What is not liked?
A clear weeding of deceit.
What is not appreciated?
An exposure of greed,
Disclosed for all to see.
What is becoming more understood?
Those wishing to turn back time,
If they could.
To ensure all interests were invested,
In humanity and goodwill.
Instead of creating a hated that kills,
With an effectiveness that has manifested...
No caring to share knowledge and skills.
And...
Done with less praying under steeples...
With a hidden reason to treason the people.
What is not liked?
A clear weeding of deceit.
What is not appreciated?
An exposure of greed,
Disclosed for all to see.
And a decadence that has gone on...
In sacred places,
Basking in hypocrisies!
Leaving no solid foundations...
For those who follow,
With hollow beliefs.
Leaving no solid foundations...
For those who follow,
Feeling an emptiness they grieve.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Discovery Of The Self
Discovery of the self,
I've made.
A probing with a complete evaluation.
Blemishes and flaws,
Once wished would go away!
Now are displayed.
With a discovery of the self,
I've made.
Only to correct and refine,
The presentation in my mind!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Accustomed To This
Accustomed we are,
To cheapness.
With a fakeness that glistens.
And being on knees to plead,
For a decent existence.
Accustomed we are,
To reach with a seeking.
Although deceived by theories idealized,
To keep our delusions fresh...
And kept alive as standards long rusted.
So accustomed to this,
We are...
Caught up in despising any realist,
Found to be painting scenes...
Pictured as observed.
And yet seen but felt demeans,
With exaggerated caricatures...
Depicting realities lived as they are.
But denied.
With a feeling that leaves those believing,
How appalled they are to be this openly offended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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That Kind of Deceit and Treason
No one on Earth
Can be that blatantly ignorant.
No one would set up a scheme,
To destroy their inner being.
And to launch a campaign,
To claim it was initiated by someone else.
Just to have the masses begin to fear themselves.
No one can be that evil.
To plan that kind of deceit and treason,
For reasons to declare a victory.
So few could profit and share this deed.
One that shatters peace.
One that is declared to pay a debt.
Owed to those living with growing economies.
Overseas.
And outsourcing jobs to support...
More dollars to themselves to feed!
Is that why this was done?
To create terrorists...
And them call them our enemies!
That is hard to believe.
No one can be 'that' low!
Lower than a snake...
Under rocks that breeds!
No one on Earth
Can be that blatantly ignorant.
No one would set up a scheme,
To destroy their inner being!
And to launch a campaign,
To claim it was initiated by someone else.
No one can be that evil.
To plan that kind of deceit and treason,
For reasons to declare victory.
To line the pockets of those in need,
To feed a gluttonous heartless greed.
No one is that demonic.
And if so...
Who would that be?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Want to Gain...What?
You want to gain...
What?
Fame, fortune and wealth?
To feel you are above everyone else?
To deal them with teases...
Just to please yourself?
You want to gain...
What?
Attention you insist belongs to you?
To set pretensions upon their point of view.
What does this 'really' do for you?
Would this erase your insecurities...
And those obscenities that you spew?
You want to gain...
What?
A dignity and pride...
With 'things' and objects,
You believe holds a head high.
Or eyes on you!
To be awed by a fake persona.
And left transfixed...
By your masquerading of it!
You clearly feel an emptiness.
And this you keep inside.
Nothing you choose to express to impress...
Will ever address what you deny!
And an identity unknown...
Seems to leave you depressed,
With regrets.
This is shown!
And moving forward beyond this...
With determined steps,
Will not gain you what you wish.
If you are too afraid...
To expose and admit,
Mistakes you've made!
But you insist...
None are there to fix.
You want to gain...
What?
A way to disguise your blemishes,
There and appearing.
Or a way to escape from your flaws?
No one finds endearing.
Which of these do you believe can not be seen?
You want to gain...
What?
Another life?
One you don't find,
So disgusting?
To live one that is lived perfectly right!
One you wished you had lived less distrusting.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Vastly The Veldt, The Bush Stretches Out About Me (Idyll) (In Answer To Sir Philip Sidney)
I
Vastly the veldt, the bush stretches out about me
where nature is left to its own existence,
where all kinds of game roam free
and here is nothing to bother with an insistence
and the weary traveller on this earth
can find a new kind of longing, a new kind of hope,
like a kind of refreshing new birth
while thoughts go past the normal human scope
where a person wonders about the creator of things
while serenity is displayed where ever you look,
bees and birds continually sing about happy tidings
and nowhere one can get this experience in a book
that comes as some kind of divine blessing,
you have got to realise that there is more to life and living.
II
You have got to realise that there is more to life and living
that every word and deed leaves a mark, a own impact,
comes as benevolence or a kind of attack,
that there’s more to life that taking and giving
that nature’s innocence and violence draws and sting
and our actions on to it we can never take back,
even our wanderings on a natural track
leaves its mark on mere existing
that somehow nature needs to be left unspoilt
while we live in a kind of ruling arrogance,
this deadly paradise has its own kind of dazzling
while we effect change, like gods live rich and spoilt
while we hide beyond a cloak of ignorance,
seldom do we realise the beauty of the coming spring.
III
Seldom do we realise the beauty of the coming spring
and yet on a farm I have met a rural girl
who brings another feeling to existing, something touching,
while in the veldt sometimes dust clouds whirl
the strange solitariness feels as if it’s alive
and she has taken me to her hidden places,
the places dear to a sweetheart or wife
where violets grow wild, wildflowers have different faces
and the sun shines friendly in a blue hued sky,
where you can feel the great tranquillity,
see birds in their coloured swarms fly
and realise that here is some strange kind of unity
a kind of unspoilt idyllic life
that exists happily without any kind of strive.
poem by Gert Strydom
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