Various Versions
Swift to come,
Are those intelligent explanations.
As if to excuse the use of common sense.
And everyone has listened to,
Adaptations of truth.
Entertaining those absent of consciousness.
Relying upon the same faces to regurgitate,
Various versions of mediocrity.
With a bit of pathos,
To invoke a connected empathy.
Yet uphill the cart continues to be pushed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Entertaining the Absence of Logic
There are still those who are amply baited,
Who remain over medicated...
With hallucinations they satiate.
And prescribed just the right mix,
Of delusions to keep them fixed.
With a bombardment of mental distractions...
To ensure denial and truth is resisted.
There are still those who are amply baited,
Who remain over medicated...
With hallucinations they satiate.
The time to awaken their minds has passed.
Addicted to fantasize and this will last.
As they have been treated to dismiss,
All elements of reality in their consciousness.
Confirming with validation the admittance of conflict.
Entertaining the absence of logic and common sense.
Numbed and insisting this existence persists.
Entertaining the absence of logic and common sense.
Numbed and insisting this existence persists.
Entertaining the absence of logic and common sense.
Confirming with validation the admittance of conflict.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Common Sense Is Missing
Common Sense?
If it is so common,
Why is it so rarely displayed?
People who succeed academically...
Sometimes find it hard to mix
With those who are suppose to lack
A worldly knowledge and quick wit!
Those who spend their lives in books...
May have minds of intelligence,
But few know how to cook!
Or know how to hold a conversation...
Without returning an 'all knowing' look!
With a raised eyebrow...
And a half smile crooked!
And common sense is missing.
That is realized before a word is said!
There is something about spontaneity...
Many find difficult to express from their heads!
Or able to exchange...
When brains are prepared to regurgitate,
Details obtained about 'historical' ancient remains!
And common sense...
If there's any left,
Is not expected to come from the lips
Of minds so far removed, dull and shamefully inept!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Physics Of A Rose
an intelligent photon
once dropped in
for an intelligent conversation
on the head of a pin
but the photon was fooled
by the question it posed.
a....... b
are they connected?
linearly?
or is it relatively
possible
a vertical
axis is present?
the axis mundi
of consciousness?
fair questions
i felt to pose
on the physics
of a rose
poem by Doug Bentley
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We are finite creatures. Our lives are small and can only scientifically consider a small part of reality. What's common for us is just a sliver of what's available. We can only see so much of the electromagnetic spectrum. We can only delve so deep into extensions of space. Common sense applies to that which we can access. But common sense is just that. Common. If total sense is what we want, we should be prepared to accept that we shouldn't call infinity weird or strange. The results we've arrived at by accepting it are valid, true within the system we use to understand, measure, predict and order the universe. Perhaps the system still needs perfecting, but at the end of day, history continues to show us that the universe isn't strange. We are.
quote by Michael Stevens
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Doctored Deeds
So cruel and evil,
Are the minds of people like 'these'.
An affluent man of influence,
Can contract to have his beautiful family...
Viciously killed as he chooses to do what he pleases!
And then for the sake of sympathetic empathy...
Will portray a tortured man seen,
To obtain a public following exploited on TV screens...
By a media obsessed to decriminalizing these demons.
Instead of righteously fighting for his own life,
When these 'random' scenes take place.
He and many like him,
Simply adorn false faces.
Most 'men'...
When their rights have been 'randomly' invaded,
Rarely survive such violation of privacy created.
And then to emerge with just a few scratches?
Common sense does not excuse these blatant activities.
However...
When one is discreetly greeding money,
As a means to evaluate their priorities...
Trivial issues like a family,
Becomes part of the calculating premeditating factor...
Proceeding one to live a life emotionally distant and heartlessly.
When one becomes connected to the taste of blood...
People like 'these',
Keep their 'doctored' deeds discreet.
Although their souls,
Will never experience a moment of peace eternally.
'So what are you saying?
He initiated the deaths of his wife and daughters,
To obtain the insurance money? '
What are you talking about?
I am into writing!
Not forensics.
You've been watching too much TV.
'That would leave the people shocked! '
I don't think so.
You should read some of the comments made,
About my writings that I get on a daily basis.
And people ask 'me' how I can be so obnoxious.
Part of it is environmental.
And the other is a tolerance for those who express,
No connection to 'sense' comprehended at all!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Smudging To Fudge Up
To convince one's presence,
Has become less influencial...
A smudging to fudge up the statistics occurs.
To entice those who may follow to listen,
But less encouraged by an expression of said words...
Deemed unsuitable to those who wish to present,
A point of view to confuse and not cement...
A comprehension some may discover makes much sense.
And having minds connected with common sense,
Isn't advantageous when some undercover wish to perfect...
A doing of their best to reduce and smother the existence of truth!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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People Sell Their Souls
Impulsive and full of himself.
That is the image of the legacy he leaves.
Incompetent?
That is not the right word.
Connected!
That's it.
Once you know someone who knows someone else...
That doesn't take intelligence, common sense,
Or even a thought process to distinguish between the two.
People sell their souls to acquire a certain status.
And to have that shared with just a few...
Eventually makes a fool respectable.
And no one in their right mind would allow an idiot,
To achieve anything of dominance.
But then again...
This assessment by now should be obvious.
And a painful admission experienced by many,
Who have allowed themselves to believe
Anything he represents has depth.
Or a consiousness connected.
Although connected he is to those of like minds!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I May Well Be A Mediocrity
I MAY WELL BE A MEDIOCRITY
I may well be a mediocrity
One who tries and tries
But never really inspires-
I may well be one of the many
Called but not chosen-
I may be more another small unimportant disturbance
Than one whose work is of real meaning and value-
I may well be a mediocrity
And an ultimate nothing-
Whose words are now saved by a new technology
But will be dust forever -
I may well be a mediocrity
Despite wanting so much not to be-
I may well be a mediocrity
And probably am-
In which case I apologize
To the reader of this
If there is one
For taking your time.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Truth 'Is' As Oxygen Is to Life
People believe the value of truth,
Depends on interpretation.
They are absent of clues...
That truth is not a product of a whim.
It is something that sits within one's spirit.
And can be 'seen'!
Truth 'is' as oxygen is to life.
If something is tainted about it...
It doesn't have to be describe,
To know it is their existing.
It is felt.
It is known.
Like a blade of grass created.
Connecting to an accepted nature
That has embraced us.
That's how truth is!
To all who know it.
For those who don't...
Always have an excuse to hide behind!
As if steel and concrete will prevent truth
From being known!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Was Out Shopping With A Friend
People into basking away from adulation,
And solicited flattery...
Can also be overheard comparing themselves to others,
With an accuracy unbelieved...
But entertaining in the telling of their versions,
Which sounds awfully familiar to those listening...
Until that familiarity overheard begins to become identical,
To what they had expressed to the one basking away.
'I know this is not going to be believed,
But this happened to me last week...
I was out shopping with a friend,
And we got so caught up in our conversation...
I rolled a cart full of groceries right out of the store.
AND begun to unload them in my car when the manager 'suggested'...
I MIGHT want to pay for them first.
And I wondered why all the police cars were filling up the parking lot.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I should have listened to God
I should have listened to God
When he said that it would end
I should have listened to God
And been just friends
I should have listened to God
Before it was too late
I should have listened to God
But now I deal with fate
I should have listened to God
That it would break my heart
I should have listened to God
That it would fall apart
I should have listened to God
Because he loves me in everyway
I should have listened to God
And all that he had to say
I should have listened to God
And show what he made me to be
I should have listened to God
But I know he has forgiven me!
Conversations With a Numbskull
Bless your heart.
Those who try,
Prying common sense...
From those densed,
With an overflow of intelligence.
Fenced in within concepts.
Lacking concentrated depth.
And yet regurgitate,
Book sense ineptness.
Conversations with a numbskull,
Can perplex and can dull.
Bless your heart.
Those who try!
Some who did...
Left them with tears in their eyes.
Thinking of themselves to be fools!
Numbskulls can do it!
If you allow them to prove,
And leave you as proof.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Absent From Routine
Absent but not of mind.
Too protective of precious consciousness,
Peace of mind and happiness.
Absent from nonsense.
Professed and not guessed.
And not seeking any to find.
To torment like the rest.
Absent from routine,
And thoughts of wasting time.
Absent from props used for chaos.
And those creating it to market!
As if this is a goldmine.
And the grease of sleaze,
Is there to slop it not stop it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XX: Version
many versions of lie
many faces of liar
many mirrors of mind
many reasons to buy
but only one truth behind
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Slow To Self Detect
They are doing their best to see him defeated.
He does not represent,
Their interests with intention seen that's meant.
Nor has he given them any attention sent.
And with the lack of his wisdom,
As their guide...
They will witness their own demise,
To no one's surprise.
Those who can separate the ignorant from the wise.
Since in their eyes they find themselves,
Uncontested and bitterly incensed.
Although their madness has been slow to self detect.
A consciousness absent...
Of a common sense witnessed that is in effect.
With an incompetence effective as incompetence can get,
And stirred by a rowdy madcowed crowd.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Magnificence Of Someone's Ego
Making unsolicited announcements,
To honor in celebration...
The magnificence of someone's ego,
Is really an event to attend.
To witness the shallowness,
In all of its pretense by those absent...
Of common sense and its definition.
And...
IF one should be personally invited,
There is probably a high disregard...
For one's integrity.
Since integrity is not the subject,
That plays an integral part...
In the implementaion of these celebrations.
'Excuse me.
The taste of your 'deceptions' are delicious.
Would you happen to have another platter,
To go around?
Apparently I am not the only one,
Trying not to get hooked on them.
You 'must' share your recipe.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Classes and Lectures
They found adayago a silly man in the new shirt,
A really good find that kept them away and running,
To be listened to are these people who riot in heads.
A dork I mean is a terrible man who fiddles on who
The person is that stayed long at class and found at last
His intelligent look and excuse at being with the next lecture.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Fresh Is A New Day That Comes To Many
Fresh is a new day that comes to many.
Those that see it that way...
Seem to have experienced fully,
Past fresh days with a letting go.
Holding onto limitations of thought,
Attaches to more anxiety and frustration.
And emotions become insensitive,
To adventure life without something to excuse.
Fresh is a new day that comes to many.
Those that see it that way...
Seem to have experienced fully,
Past fresh days with a letting go.
Some have chosen to exist,
Relying on being told what is around a corner.
Instead of leaving their zones of comfort,
To investigate with a sealing of their own confirmation.
Holding onto limitations of thought,
Attaches to more anxiety and frustration.
And emotions become insensitive,
To adventure life without something to excuse.
And finding something to excuse,
People would prefer to do.
Than to move from point A to B,
To voice an opinion given...
That confirms an absent of knowledge.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I'm not comfortable with just entertaining. Although I like entertaining, I also like bringing forward the truth of our times as minstrels used to in the old days.
quote by Serj Tankian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Connected To You
There are times when I'm happy
and times when I'm sad
and all of these times that I have had
are all connected to you,
so connected to you.
so connected to you.
There are times when it's sunny
and times when it's not
and all of these times I never forgot
were all connected to you,
so connected to you.
'Cause you have my heart on a string
and I can't control one little thing.
Where's my composure? Where did it go?
'Can't even answer for I don't know.
There are times when I'm jumpy
and times when I'm still
and times when I'm playful
like Jack and Jill.
And they're all connected to you,
so connected to you.
So what do I do to get over you?
You've got me crazy in love with you.
I take a step forward and fall back two
and everywhere that I go
there'll be times when I want you
and times when I don't.
There'll be times that I'll have you
and times that I won't
but there's absolutely nothing I can do
'Cause I'm connected to you,
so connected to you
So I know we can never be through.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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