Weeds of Warning
Freeze all requests for a correctedness.
Those days to do it effectively are gone.
And those who chose to stay away...
Slept unconcerned and remained that way.
What has been harvested has been regret.
And those weeds of warning,
Have killed any blooming expected.
As well as the numbing of consciousness,
To overcomed the doing done that has been accepted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blatant Are The Disparaties
So blatant are the disparaties today,
As if to test those who are deeply affected.
While keeping them peacefully teased.
Like children fearing to disobey...
With the toughts of candy being kept away.
And yet...
Overcomed by the numbing that has been done,
Effectively to decrease anything associated...
With reality.
Since many suppressed and historically oppressed,
Are so accustomed to being on their knees.
And...
Anyone amongst them attempting to stand and walk,
Alone and defiant...
Is immediately accused of seeking attention.
And 'trying' to lift one's head up high,
Is definitely an act most of them despise.
'They are 'always' trying to be better than the rest of us.
Why can't they be down to Earth?
Or 'hang' around with the doing of nothing.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life Lost to Fleas
There is so much to it,
Than to just lay down and do it.
In days that have progressed like these,
So many are unconcerned about catching disease.
And it's not only sex that makes these acts senseless.
It's a thoughtlessness accepted with this foolishness!
Today it's easy to lay the blame on someone other than self.
To claim as if temptation can't be resisted...
Is an excuse that sells without the slightest protest!
And jumping into bed just to be physically fed,
Are acts done by those with no shame.
Turning what was done into a game for fun...
Makes finding someone good,
A tastelessness done that is misunderstood!
There is so much to it,
Than to just lay down and do it.
In days that have progressed like these,
So many are unconcerned about catching disease.
And laying down with nasty dogs,
Will not attract butterflies to beautify at all...
To one accustomed to a life lost to fleas,
With regrets that no one is interested...
In contaminated property!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Accepting To Do It Is Not A Trick
A phase of malaise has taken place.
Aspirations to remove it,
Has exhausted inspiration.
Those with faith and outreaching done,
Are looked upon as dissenters.
But this has to be overcomed.
A phase of malaise has taken place.
Aspirations to remove it,
Has exhausted inspiration.
Some say it is much to late.
And what appears on the horizon,
Is an introduction of an ill fate.
But illusions embraced stay as they are.
If invited into minds,
Believing what appears can not be barred.
But a barring done is a possibility!
If one refuses what one is told is meant to be.
As an accepted reality.
A phase of malaise has taken place.
Aspirations to remove it,
Has exhausted inspiration.
But this too shall pass and be overcomed.
When the feeding to a mind...
Seeks to witness a happiness done.
It's just that simple!
And accepting to do it is not a trick.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This is a warning
Warning! warning! warning!
This is a warning
Stop me from yawning
There is no smoke
Without a choke
There is no secret
Without a regret
You can not be strong
If you've never been wrong
Anything ever hot
Brings upon hurt
This is a warning
Stop me from yawning
Unfailed prevention
Prevails redemption
Avoid temptation
Beware of those who are nice
So say the experienced wise
Everything comes with a price
This is a warning
Stop me from yawning
Run, have fun
While there is still sun!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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I Chose to Like My Own Life
I chose to like my own life.
It wasn't easy then to do it.
Since many then pretended,
With no identifiable dignity.
Or a pride that had reality.
I chose to live my life right.
Free of masquerades,
And...
Those days I spent charading.
With dim light to pass.
I chose to greet the morning Sun.
Feeling a freedom at last.
Like never before I felt could be done.
I opened the door inside of me once closed.
And released my own mind...
To find a truth I could believe,
See and daily breathe.
And wanting more of 'me' exposed.
And I chose to like my own life.
Not finding fault or wrong with it.
Or defending what for me felt right.
What for me I knew existed.
I chose to like my own life to live,
As I do...
To prove,
It is mine to live it as I choose.
And this day I choose to live my life!
And so peaceful do I sleep at night.
Free of masquerades,
And...
Those days I spent charading,
Behind an assortment of masks.
With no direction on my path,
Cemented and paved.
I chose to like my own life.
It wasn't easy then.
Since many then pretended.
As if that was their task.
And pretending for me,
Has ended.
As clear as unstained glass,
Allows light to pass through it brighter...
With no intention to leave a blemish.
Coming as it does,
To radiate that which lives.
And this day I choose to live my life!
For me...and you too.
To get those deeds we need to do,
Done.
Knowing now we have identified,
And overcomed the fear...
Of liking one another like we like ourselves.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Imbedded
Six weeks spent in quarantine.
And five months being probed,
In isolation and daily disrobed...
Over every inch of my body,
By those clothed and masked...
To microscope every crevice I had,
Is a memory I will never forget.
Imbedded in my mind,
Is that time I experienced feeling totally alone.
To say today...
There is nothing to compared to it.
Nor the reaction from those I received to get,
Who chose to gossip with embellished innuendos.
While my faith remained to strengthen....to me shows.
There is nothing to compared to it this I admit.
Nor the reaction from those visiting with images.
Who chose to gossip with embellished innuendos.
While my faith remained to strengthen.
And the few I will never forget,
Who did their very best to get me back on my feet.
Blessed are they,
Who did not wish secretly to see me defeated.
Since my healing completely,
Reveals with clarity what those of closed minds...
Would never suspect is shown to make known,
When one is assisted to climb to a higher consciousness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A touch and go
I buried myself long ago
It was just touch and go
One little useful thought
Complete salvation was sought
I had dreamed about many things
I could do nothing much or attained something
It was as usual complete rout
I have nothing more to talk about
My heart remained almost dry
No one came forward and asked why
No river flow was expected
I accepted the fact and never reacted
I had so much to offer
I remained among and never differed
Yet I got kick backs in return
I had nothing to offer in turn
It was creating lots of impact
I was expected reasonably to act
I was burdening for no useful out come
I had strong desire but was not always welcome
I think for calling of the day
This is only option or way
Person should make voluntary recall
As it can be his final call
No one may come to know of fine gesture
You have lived for them for entire tenure
It was now turning against you
You have lost the faith and it is very true
I am no were physically connected
Fear in mind and illusions wrongly created
It is driving me away from real world
The world seems different and very cold
I see the concept differently
Even though I have not felt it unhappily
It is gradual change and has affected many
I am one of the individual among so many
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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And blooming
Blooming blooming
You are blooming.
You are white tulip
You are tube rose
You are passiflora
You are mutabilis
You are marigold
And what not
What not you are.
Your world
Wonderful world
I am
With You
You are blooming
Blooming blooming
And blooming.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Shouldve Kept Your Distance
Somethings gone wrong
now i know whats going on
theres a place i need to be
theres some1 i need to see
theres suspicion in the air
theres some things that should be cleared
if im there....there will be hell
and i may end up in jail
but its for a serious cause
dont give a futz about the law
If they dont keep their distance
ill make sure theyre gone
before they use their senses
shouldve listened to my warning
shouldve never came back
couldve walked away....
but they didnt.....they chose to stay......
i wont need reinforcements
im not there....i guess i do
there wont be conversations
when i get there theyll be through
they couldve thought this out
but instead they just refused
and when theyre taken out
ill just be here.....amused
If they dont keep their distance
ill make sure theyre gone
before they use their senses
shouldve listened to my warning
shouldve never came back
couldve walked away....
but they didnt.....they chose to stay
~IP23
poem by Iron Panda 23
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Weapons Test
How much do you love me?
I'm going to leave if that is not confessed.
Why haven't you returned my calls?
Is there someone else,
You have taken more of an interest?
And that of yet has been addressed.
Why don't you want to be with me?
Why now do you want to be alone?
I'm doing my best to respect your requests.
But it seems my love is not enough.
And it appears the happiness I can give to you,
Does not measure up to your expectations.
Or equals that of your own.
I'm warning you...
Without me in your life,
You'll never know peace of mind at home.
'What is this,
Your weapons test?
To weaken me with your insecurities.
Until much love for you I confess?
The only thing you've done for me,
Is to wish you the very best.
I'm glad I decided not to have a lasting relationship.
Since I realize with you,
That decision I know I'd eventually regret.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When a Consciousness Begins to Lift
When a consciousness begins to lift...
To leave behind foolishness that exists.
There seems to be an acceptance of it.
As if one realizes,
A birth has been committed.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
A release of limitations,
Easily takes a shift.
No longer is one concerned,
About winning conflicts with enemies burned.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
It becomes easier to observe,
Those disturbed and their afflictions addicted.
Enjoyed and unrestricted.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
It is best to rest.
And let it accept the truth,
That comes with it.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Expect a shock and some loneliness.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Those experiencing this,
Are left to feel estranged!
Alienated,
From that...
Which one had thought,
Was sane!
When a consciousness begins to lift...
Enjoy it as a gift.
Unveiling an abundance of understanding.
Connecting a peace that can be reached.
With a wish to share and treat.
When a consciousness begins to lift...
From those taught they should live,
With lives accepted in self defeat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Proven Not To Be Beneficial
It has already proven not to be,
Beneficial or cost effective...
To have issued lifetime memberships,
Or seasonal tickets...
To those of the population selected,
For purposes to keep them addicted...
And protected by entertaining amusements,
Numbing effectively a thought process...
That has kept denials prioritized over truths.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Happiness is a matter of one's most ordinary and everyday mode of consciousness being busy and lively and unconcerned with self.
quote by Iris Murdoch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I chose to not wear a wire and tape people. I chose to not get immunity until - were accepted, whatever - until the independent counsel's office was comfortable with what I said was the truth.
quote by Monica Lewinsky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In It And Not Of It
Being in it and not of it,
Can still nibble away at one's gut.
Being distant and cut off from it,
May prevent one's suffering.
But...
Those memories have a way to linger.
And emotions felt deep,
Are never too far away.
One can choose to refuse to acknowledge them.
But how far away should one stay,
Without being followed...
By what has been experienced.
Or the degrading taking place,
Of that which has been observed.
And accepted by those,
Who have chosen to dance...
Effectively around its existence.
As if to glorify the remnants,
Of its staying power to remain unchanged...
To improve upon appearances,
With an approval that appeases.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My House
Im moving my car forward a foot at a time
Another red light another warning sign
Is that rain on the windshield
Wonder if its raining on the jersey side
Tapping my fingers to the radio
But I dont hear a thing
Watching the hookers move in and out of the light
One of these days one of these days . . .
One of these days
Im gonna smash somebodys car
And smash the coppers face
As they take me away . . .
But I gotta go home now
(dont wanna go to my house)
Only forty minutes to the jersey side
Me and suzy used to read the news and stay up all night
We used to see a lot of people then we just got tired
And gave birth to a perfect little alibi
I take a sip of diet soda and loosen my tie
Another red light another warning sign
Hey that puerto rican hooker must be six feet tall
One of these days one of these days . . .
One of these days
Im gonna turn the car around
And keep on going
til I lose track of time . . .
But I gotta go home now
(dont wanna go to my house)
Thirty five minutes to the jersey side
Another red light another warning sign
One of these days one of these days
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Much Is Expected
No one...
Given life to breathe,
Is born with a cold heart.
Beating with a rhythm,
That is ready to freeze.
No one...
Should be expected,
To show warmth and love.
If none has been surrounding one...
Being expressed.
Or shown to one how that's addressed.
No child learning to crawl, walk and talk.
Grows into an adult...
Prepared with maturity.
Or an accountability.
If no examples of that were ever there!
How is one expected to become aware?
Too much is expected.
From those who have been neglected.
And too much for too long goes undenied...
By one feeling insecure and desperate inside.
With no one to confide in...
From a shattering that goes on alone.
And kept condoned to grow unknown outside.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Vengeance delayed storypoem
My country taught me how to kill
and when I had sufficient skill
I was recruited secretly
to serve a special agency.
My given task was to erase
any who opposed our ways
at home abroad where I was sent
To which I gave my free assent.
I slowly came to realise
I could not always recognise.
My target as an enemy.
Suspected they were using me
Though I had little evidence.
Some missions seemed to make no sense
I was expected to obey
my instructions come what may/
My duty was to do or die
I had no right to question why
There was no way I could resign
or else the next death would be mine.
I had known other colleagues die
quite frequently Now I knew why.
I was convinced my turn would come
Because a dead man will stay dumb.
I chose instead to disappear.
Create a new life far from here.
Although I killed for my country
I’m certain they will search for me.
They are afraid that if I chose
their dirty secrets to expose.
They have no means of stopping
me whilst I remain at liberty
They would much rather I was dead.
I have a price upon my head.
So I have planned accordingly
If they succeed in killing me.
My story will be given to
the press who will know what to do
.I’ll take revenge posthumously.
on liars who exploited me.
22/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Predators Indebted
Preying on...
Minds that remain unconnected.
And a preying on these vacancies accepted.
Yes,
Preying on...
A thoughtlessness expected,
That rejects a common sense.
With none of it reflecting...
Those predators indebted!
Let's say it is true...
That greatness achieved,
Was done thoroughly independently.
Let's say it is true...
That a quality of life enjoyed,
Was not supplied or produced...
By foreign imports that seduced.
And deployed to introduce creature comforts,
Now demanded as entitlements.
Let's say it is true...
That land purchases and foundations treasured,
Were not bought and sold by those with cash in hand.
No matter what language was spoken,
Or where undocumented 'aliens' decided to take a stand.
And let's say it is true...
That all that we here do IS envied.
And...
Let's say this is true too...
We are predators indebted!
And beholdened to those kept,
Uknown.
Preying on...
A thoughtlessness expected.
Preying on...
Minds that remain unconnected.
And a preying on these vacancies accepted.
To stay beholdened to those kept,
Unknown!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Light of Weight
I am not here to hold anyone's hand.
Or to play mushy goody...
With those who have sensitivities,
I don't quite understand.
I've come to raise and enlighten my consciousness.
Not to play childish games with those,
Who like to dress up and masquerade...
Parading to be someone else they wish.
Or raise the minds of children...
To stay 'children' and be 'good'.
Any child of mine I want responsible.
I want to see them grow to become assets,
To any neighborhood.
Like mature adults should!
Today I observe,
So many trying their best to stay young!
And making excuses for what they do.
As they seek acceptance for it too.
With no desire to overcome...
Their stunning and numbing dumbness.
I see those selected to lead...
But only if they are liked!
And as a result of this...
No growth at all is in sight!
I see irresponsibility with disrespect accepted.
I see a total breakdown of humanity.
With none of this rejected!
As those of 'insight' despised and dejected.
I observe a pitifulness...
In my life I resist!
I am not going to put up with it!
Nor do I condone,
Those who do not make their feelings known.
I may be viewed a maverick...
One who is light on substance.
And perhaps light of weight.
But I appreciate my life...
Free of nonsense and those who are fake!
This is not the experience I wish to be served,
On my challenging and demanding plate!
And to those who see,
I have no appetite for these scenes?
Can call me light of weight.
And light on substance...
They may feed and satiate!
But don't get in my face to say it.
I am very capable to dish...
Anything I decide that is delivered,
I wish to dismiss!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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