Very Few Options Left
Say whatever you like
But those fantasized all their lives
Have very few options left
To live their lives without the presence of reality
Consider it an invasion
A process there but choosing not to see
These are the people we should all fear
They actually believe 'life' is their creation
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Many Younger People
So many younger people.
Speed through their lives like rockets.
And all they want to do,
Is display their bling.
They text their messages,
About the joys of having sex.
And think nothing about respecting.
Or the affects left by neglecting,
That process.
So many younger people.
Speed through their lives like rockets.
And all they want to do,
Is display their bling.
They text their messages,
About the joys of having sex.
And think nothing about respecting.
Or the affects left by neglecting,
That process.
Kicks they get,
From being loud and rude.
Even in school hallways,
They loosely talk of booty choosing...
Like it is kept,
In some treasured chest.
And most of them dress,
As if they wish for a nakedness.
While observing grown up little girls,
Exposing their butts...
And developed breasts.
As if soliciting themselves to be.
Sexpots or pets,
As they bend over demurely
Around and near their teachers' desks.
So many younger people.
Speed through their lives like rockets.
And all they want to do,
Is display their bling.
They text their messages,
About the joys of having sex.
And think nothing about respecting.
Or the affects left by neglecting,
That process.
So many younger people,
Get their kicks.
And aware of it.
They are.
As if
They have been taught,
This as a focus.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No Disparities Seen
If one grows accustomed to a joke,
And lives it as if...
That's the only reality lived they know.
And it is.
By what they show and choose to believe.
And surrounding themselves they do,
With jesters!
To uphold such valued standards!
It is a life felt that feels most comfortable.
Those opposing 'this' reality,
Are the ones oppressed and made to fear.
Made to become subservient.
Although they are the ones,
Closer to the truth...
Of all creation!
And their lives are despised.
Otherwise there would be no disparities seen.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A special child is a special One
thank you for giving me the light in this world...... when
you shared to me the life, that the Lord bestowed and
blessed, you deserve that gift, to have a special one
thank you for the fruit of love..... your lives fulfill the
purpose of creation, your unending steadfast care lifts
me up to survive, amidst the uncertainty of life
thank you for being there..... when I needed you most,
you are always in my side, pushing me to face all
adversity, though I exist with no fear in my heart
thank you that you let me taste and experience..... what
is life with you, our memories always linger in my heart,
even though that meaningful happiness is off valued and
something special to me
thank you dear someone..... your presence is giving
me the strength to stay alive, this is the life I live, my world
is different from you, and I have to stay in order to live and
survive
thank you for accepting and letting me go..... beyond your
limit for you don't know where I will go, this dream that I
take is only, me can reach, a place where nobody knows
thank you for helping and making me to achieve, with my
own volition to know more of myself..... hoping the best of
everything on me, and believing that I might see the
meaning of my existence for the destiny I made is the
destiny I live.....this maybe the end of why, I am living in
this world with you dear someone
thank you that in my journey in this life..... you are with me
surfing every pieces of puzzle of who am I in this creation,
a creation that everyone is free, a creation that I am a part
and I exist, a destiny to move on and a place I live today
thank you..... for believing me even in your heart, thou you
didn't see what........ I believed, just always remember that
the life I share in every moment I've take. lives with you
forever and it is beyond your own imagination for the
world I live..... lives.....only in every man's heart that is free
' do not see them as how they think and look, but see
them as what you feel '
poem by Antonio Liao
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Into Themselves
People into themselves,
Live lives delusioned to fantasize.
And they are distracted by facts,
With a hope one day...
A reality they wish to inflict,
Will not restrict with obstacles...
That affect their strides.
It becomes increasingly difficult,
To support and defend...
Those like them.
They are not molded with backbone,
Another could depend.
Fence sitters undecided,
With a self esteem dismissed.
Often are destructive to progress...
With a delaying of it.
And direct they are not.
Deceivers they tend to be.
With a seeking of attention...
To stop a process intended,
That will expose their activity...
Lacking in accountability!
People into themselves,
Live lives delusioned to fantasize.
And they are distracted by facts,
With a hope one day...
A reality they wish to inflict,
Will not restrict with obstacles...
That affect their strides.
Or the need they have to embellish,
From the shadows where they hide.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Angel of the Sky
Some people don't know you like I do
Some people don't trust you like I do
Some people would rather choose a fool,
because they don't know you like I do
As a result, people fear the night,
the dangerous creatures that lurk within.
They bring their hopes completely down,
until surrender is hard to resist.
In contrast, I do love the night
There's awesome creatures that may exist,
during the times when I go out.
That's when I know that they do live
So I do not fear the night,
because there's miracles waiting outside,
once I look at the beautiful sky,
because lying in that beautiful sky,
is the angel of the sky, the hero in our lives.
The angel of the sky
The hero in our lives
And I don't fear the time;
there's lots of time for all to pass-by.
Once you look at the gorgeous sky,
pray to God to give you light.
You will see that there is time.
He is the light of all our lives,
The inspiration of my entire life,
The buried treasure that I find,
and what I'll live for till I die.
In the sky lies the angel of the sky,
my hero, my God, and my entire life.
My darkness is lighted by his light
He makes my life a better life
The angel of the sky
The hero in our lives
But some people don't know you like I do
Others don't trust you the way I do
Some would choose a fool rather than you,
because they don't know you like I do.
They don't know the wonders of the sky
They don't know the meaning of this life
Or the times it takes from having to try,
to finally achieve something in this life.
It's hard to describe this art of life
It's hard to describe all of my difficult times,
because once in my life the light did die;
it wasn't easy to restore the light.
The light was dying and I fell behind
Hope I tried finding but I didn't know you
The light was dying and so was I
But hope I tried finding till I found you
So when I stare at the night, and the stars in the sky
A signal uncovered I try to find
One that leads my life back into your light,
to live in harmony all the time.
I am not scared of the taunting dark
Miracles await to eventually spark
For the very first time, if you just look at the sky,
because lying in the sky is the hero of my life
He's the sun that brings us immense light,
the love that always glides my life,
the strength that helps me win a fight.
He's what I'll live for till I die
In the sky lies the angel of the sky,
my hero, my God, and my entire life.
Looking at the sky brings me peace inside
I smile at knowing his presence lies in my life.
The angel of the sky
The hero in our lives
Some people don't know you like I do
Others don't trust you the way I do
Some people will never trust you like I do
They do not know the wonderful things that you can do,
by being the angel of the sky,
the hero in my life.
The hero in my life
The angel that lies in the sky
You're the angel of the sky
The hero in my life
The angel of the sky
The hero in my life
poem by Jordys Herrera
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One is All, All is One
I will live a thousand lives.
I will sleep a thousand sleeps.
Though the thousand is really one.
I will dream a thousand dreams.
I will become a thousand people.
Though, the thousand is really one.
One is all and all is one.
Each a part, of the wonder I get to learn.
My journey is a million miles,
Yet to an ant, the same journey is a billion.
What is irrelevant is more relevant than you can imagine.
My life is my creation; it is I, which writes my story.
I pick the characters, I pick the scenes, I pick the outcome.
I could not think outside my own thoughts.
I lived a life with writer's block.
Fearing what is next, as I believe it is an unknown.
Yet, I can make that fear real, if I let it consume me.
If fear is my faith, it is what I will find.
The feeling is real, yet the feared only a thought,
But I make it my reality, then my reality it becomes.
Then the same must be true of love.
So it really is already known.
It is the seed planted.
My garden will produce the harvest of the seeds I plant.
So which will I choose?
Which will I follow?
The will of myself, or the will of my spirit?
The seed of love or fear?
It is all, that is really one and not each.
The journey through my inside,
Is the only way to see outside myself.
It is my inner peace, that determines my outer.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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This Stuff Is Blatant
My observations aren't created.
Rarely embellished are they envisioned.
I see what I see.
And hear what I hear.
Ignoring what is there,
I do not make that decision.
I am one of those probing nosey people.
Wanting to comprehend with a reason,
To question 'why'?
I can be analytical if I wish.
But what I observe...
There is little need for it.
This stuff is blatant!
For open eyes to satiate.
Blatant with a rawness,
Hard for some to digest.
I guess that is why so many folks,
Delude themselves with pretentions.
Preferring lives fantasized,
To moralize what upsets.
This stuff is blatant,
Oh yes.
There in black and white!
But I understand why,
Some choose to camouflage this in disguise.
So much truth conflicts with a resistance to reality.
And reality is much despised.
This stuff is blatant!
For open eyes to satiate.
Blatant with a rawness,
Hard for some to digest.
I guess that is why so many folks,
Delude themselves with pretentions.
Preferring lives fantasized,
To moralize what upsets.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Incredulous
Incredulous.
They stand deluded,
Inside their heads...
Fantasized.
Incredulous.
Those stances taken.
The heartbreaking done.
With a stubbornness unbecoming.
And a waste of time,
Spent faking.
So incredulous.
Empty rituals with untried faith.
And attempts to make,
What is not there to embrace,
With a 'reality' selected in its place.
Incredulous, yes!
On faces left and gone unaddressed.
And those that are not...
Must choose from them to leave.
Incredulous people,
ARE to be believed!
Do 'not' try to perceive them,
Otherwise.
Incredulous are those,
Who defy truth!
And wish to live their lives...
Totally in the worship of lies!
Incredulous!
And defying a mind satisfying,
Correctness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Total Upheaval to Fantasized Beliefs
What is going on?
A reality refused existence.
And an overwhelming presence of it,
No longer given the option of being deluded...
By those who excused the inclusion of it.
What is going on?
The blatant attacks on deceit, lies and corruption.
A disruption of the lives of thieves and their alibis.
And an exposure to their incompetent influence.
What is going on?
A total upheaval of fantasized beliefs.
And the creaking sounds of sneaking creeps,
Attempting to leave the scene of their crimes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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People Have Their Ways
People have a way to decide who are their friends and enemies
People have some dissapointments in life
But do they recognize their dissapointments in life?
Can people go through moments of despair alone?
Or do they need God?
Do the people live making promises but they are neve able to keep it or Deliver it
Do people fear people?
Yes they fear people because they think that they might be mistreated or Robed by new people
Their souls, their feeling, and their love
Do people make us welcome in their lives?
Not all the time because we are different
But unique in different ways
poem by Aldo Kraas
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This Has Been Their Lives
Choosing to accept things as they are in isolation...
Enhances one's desperation,
To separate in misunderstanding.
When things 'controlled' get out of hand.
It becomes difficult for them to comprehend,
Others more powerful,
Have use misguided power over them.
Choosing to be set in ways,
With lessons taught as lessons to stay.
This stubbornness unresisted decays.
And those who insist,
This self centeredness should persist.
Will discover themselves living deeper in conflict.
As truth and its reality continues to drift away.
Leaving those with values of fading substance...
To become left in darkness.
And feeling much betrayed.
As light shows deceptions they embraced.
More and more they fear!
With no escaping from it near.
Since this has been their lives endeared!
And these standards now fast erasing...
They have kept in place.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Silent Thunder (Life Poem)
A silent thunder which
We feel but cannot hear
Rumbles on relentlessly
Through our lives as an
Unperceived presence
In this life and the next.
Is this presence our
God who is indifferent,
To our problems and
Those of seven billion
Souls, and is unlikely
To be interested in our
Insignificant lives?
poem by Ian Beckett
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Those 'New To Discover Life' People
Often I am amused by those...
'New To Discover Life' people.
Either they have been rehabiliated in prision.
Or a brick wall they have run into most of their lives,
Suddenly provided them with insight.
Reconditioned to mingle about,
In today's dysfunctional society...
Has instilled within their minds certain beliefs,
That everyone they pass along city streets...
Needs someone who has been recently 'released',
To provide them with guidance and moral comfort.
Often I am amused by those...
'New To Discover Life' people.
Either they have been rehabiliated in prison.
Or a brick wall they have run into most of their lives,
Suddenly provided them with insight.
And those who face and battle their struggles,
On a daily basis...
Without sitting in a cell or running into bricks,
Have been deluded by their lives lived in reality.
And they sit with wishes wanting to hear...
Fables from an ex-con,
Who made choices to live life quick.
And still seeks to live as easy as possible.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stepping At Least An Inch Away
Choosing to live one's life,
Honestly...
Would seem to be a no brainer,
For many.
But there are those who have chosen,
To hide their lives behind deceit,
And praying daily to be saved...
From reality.
And I am not the one to say,
From delusions it is easy to wake up.
Or pray what is accustomed for some to go away.
But I know that stepping at least an inch...
Away from one's self everyday,
Helps to remove all kinds of restrictions.
And if attempted more than this,
Can be witnessed and realized.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Riddled With Defects
If all cults weren't divisions,
Of existing religious beliefs...
Why are just a few,
Considered illegitimate?
When every one of them,
Is a creation of someone's imagination...
Sold to sell with a telling that is bought.
And a fighting done amongst themselves,
That has nothing to do with the presence of God...
Claimed to be in their lives.
As contradictions and hypocrisy thrives.
Do we exist as images of GOD?
Or...
Have we been created to immulate the image?
Either way,
The process seems to be riddled with defects.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fear and Pleasure
pain is the residuals of fear, there is no fear in
the absent of acceptance, for only the mind
can rebuke the suffering of the heart
as the truth comes in a most awaited moment of
your life, the wisdom identify the soul of where
the conscience lives, it is the fear of the Lord where
the wisdom begins; a complete vow and obedient
to the giver of knowledge would guide every pleasure
to overcome fear
entangled between fear and pleasure destroyed the
unifying force that strengthen each aura to a seeking
soul to feel and accept pleasure without fear
make this fear a pleasure of strength, for what
ever encountered pleasure the one who give this
fear, be pleasured in His creation
be the pleasure be assured that what make best
for everybody may leads us to the unity of the soul
that lives in each conscience we possess
the fearless warriors has awaken the pleasure that
the Lord God bestowed, never fear of what pleasure
comes in your life, harmonize the soul with in your
conscience and live the body with the heart that exist
a fear that brings pleasure is a human impulse of
what to become worthy to the kingdom of the God, for
what ever is given, is a gift received and be shared
to all mankind..... and the acceptance brings us to
the pleasure without fear
poem by Antonio Liao
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In It For The Ease of It
It's not difficult to perceive,
That there are those living who believe...
Some folks live lives that are easy.
And these folks should assist others to succeed!
In fact...
Hold them by the hand.
And show them how to breathe!
It's not difficult to see...
Others sitting on their butts,
And complaining from sun down to sun up!
With nothing good to say...
About anything that comes their way.
They are in it for the ease of it.
In some deluded and fantasized existence.
Waiting they do for some golden ship...
To spend the rest of a 'blessed' life,
Removing reality from it!
Although surrounded by a shallowness.
A deepened one that for them now exists!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Keeping Alive Lives Lived to Fantasize
How can someone who claims to have faith,
Be quick to express fear?
I'm not understanding that at all.
Nothing about that makes it clear.
Or someone who has insecurities...
Expressing they choose not to comprehend,
Anything...
That will bring a clarity to them.
I don't understand those at all,
Who deny reality.
To say to others within listening distance...
What they see they can not believe.
But deceit they accept,
Without questioning its existence to reject.
And delude themselves they do...
With a resistance to accept the truth.
And everyone wonders why...
A quality of life,
Continues to ride on a downslide.
While keeping alive lives lived...
With wishes to remain completely fantasized!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fear is always there
Some people say they fear nothing,
I say so myself.
But that is wrong,
that cannot be true.
When people say they fear nothing,
it makes me think.
Fear is always there,
as a part of our lives.
I say I fear nothing,
I say I can handle all,
But that is wrong,
I know that is not true.
Of course, we all fear death,
I fear death,
But that is not my worst fear.
I fear I lose all,
I fear I lose my friends,
I fear I lose my family.
Even though I don't say so.
Even though I may not show it.
I fear I lose all I love.
Some people say they fear nothing,
But that is not true.
They fear something,
we all do.
Just because of the fact,
that fear is always there,
as a part of our lives
poem by Rodney vali
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Fragrance of the Star
life is full of fragrances, for each one is not meant to smell
to our own, this is the mystery of creation, one has to give
than to receive, the wisdom of existence lives behind in
each day, as we wrapped the gift that is given to us
it is the perfumes that we emit, that leads other to excel, to
do, of who they are in other lives, as people transcends
behind their limits they too experience tremendous changes
of whom they are in their lives
as life in it self gradually evolved, the trueness of in you
reveals that without other lives our existence is nothing to
live, like angels in the galaxy singing your song with the
joy of alleluia, perfect as to say that the celebration in the
universe is completed with the singing of Handel of praise
it is then a guarantee, that what life man possess is man's
best gift to others, it’s the smell that gives the meaning of
what is a purpose of your driven life, a sharing of breath
that makes a man perfect in the eyes of the beholder and
the holder of our beauty
comes to the enthronement of your fragrance and possess
the perfume of what will be the next tomorrow to come,
always be there, waiting others to smell your sweet breath
for the angel of heaven may sing your song of joy
poem by Antonio Liao
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