What Does It Take For Reality To Be Embraced?
What is it that goes on in the minds of those,
Who choose an agenda...
To defeat the ones they have historically opposed?
By the telling of lies and demeaning them,
With stereotypical jokes that seem to continue with no end?
Those old jokes told,
That have rusted against their peeling picket fences.
Delusion!
A delusion kept that their inept perceptions,
Will stay effective with sustained false depth.
And their ability to squeeze the economy,
To have those on their knees and pleading...
With a begging of them to forgive them of 'sins'.
As if they have been annointed as 'chosen' deities.
Worshipped by those suppressed as they believe.
What goes on in the minds of those,
Who choose an agenda...
To defeat the ones they have historically opposed,
By the telling of lies and demeaning them...
With stereotypical jokes?
Delusion!
And what awakens to stun the ones,
To snap out of their spells they've kept so well?
Reality!
And what does it take for reality to be embraced?
A truth that survives that no one can deny.
Once superficiality diminishes from those whose eyes,
Have been cleared and freed from all deceptions.
With trauma to face as a reception!
After inspecting their standards once valued demolished.
'Say what you will.
But a winning was not done with a mandate! '
I agree.
However...
Few losers are heard cheering,
Because they 'almost' defeated that which was opposed.
Or observed snuggling together...
With smiles a mile wide and gratified with eyes closed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
The Catastrophe of Delusion
The catastrophe of delusion,
Conquered into submission.
And defeated by undeniable truth...
Wounds the minds of many!
The audacity of reality,
Tearing down walls of pretense.
Leaves an exposure of falsities...
With nowhere to hide.
Or a fence to sit!
Those aware with focused eyes,
Take comforts away...
From the ones medicated.
The ones sedated,
Who board daily...
Their escapading 'trips' as scehduled.
Anything to keep their minds numbed...
With detached satisfaction.
The catastrophe of delusion,
Conquered into submission.
And defeated by undeniable truth...
Wounds the minds of many!
As a way of life,
Quickly slips from their hands!
As those misunderstandings,
Are no longer in need of clarification.
What comes to an end...
Ends!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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All the Jokes
All the jokes have already been told
And so instead, we tell jokes about how
All the jokes have already been told
But these new jokes aren't very funny
In fact, they're actually kind of sad
So instead we tell jokes about how
All the new jokes aren't very funny
In fact, they're actually kind of sad
Because they remind us about how
All the jokes have already been told
But these jokes get old very quickly
So we make up new jokes about how
The jokes about the new jokes about how
All the jokes that have already been told
Are starting to get quite old
But after a while, once these jokes
Have gotten quite old themselves
We sit and listen to the silence
And wonder about the past, and how
All the jokes have already been told
Then suddenly, out of nowhere
Somebody comes up with a joke
That had been forgotten long ago
But is so funny we can't even breathe
So we roll on the floor, gasping for air
poem by Derek Ouyang
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Recycled Recessiveness
Making attempts,
To revive that which is clearly nonexisting.
And has past its usefulness...
Is sad to witness.
Although this can be observed to be done!
There are those who still insist upon,
Their usage of depictions of stereotypical images.
With moking jokes of poked out lips.
Stretched rolling eyes.
And slow dragging steps taken,
Like a Step n' Fetchit.
And those wishing to turn back the clock...
To relive these times,
Are those who have been suppressed the most.
But there is something of value for them,
In being subservient
They find...
That keeps them wishing to perfect,
These teased images in their minds.
It is an art they have long established,
As a cause to unite behind...
The disgraceful declining...
Some of their own kind now denounce,
As a means to uphold their begging!
And the infighting keeps them...
In a recycled recessiveness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Are The Whos
Now...
With a hint of self evaluation,
Peeking from behind closed and padlocked doors...
Perhaps the process of ending delusion,
Has an opportunity to be introduced to truth.
A truth fools can longer afford to ignore.
And those locked in cells,
Watching cable on their flat screened TVs...
Can perform sighs of relief,
Knowing a empathy comes...
That has been slowly publicly released.
Millions of people incarcerated across the land,
Have been victimized by misunderstanding.
And taught behaviors...
That mysteriously got out of hand.
And because of a way of life,
Highlighted as advertised...
Who really knew,
That the marketing of these standards valued,
Would someday open up eyes!
Instead of leaving them shut...
As the implementation of such high moral intentions,
Were ignored just to hype...
While a diseasing mental illness,
Began to disturb and disrupt...
With deceit and accepted corruption!
Who amongst the published 'Who Are The Whos',
Would actually awaken to discover...
Those real 'Whos' are you?
I mean...
Who knew?
Did you?
And,
Now...
With a hint of self evaluation,
Peeking from behind once closed and padlocked doors...
Perhaps the process of ending delusion,
Has an opportunity to be introduced to truth.
A truth fools can longer afford to ignore
And those wounds inflicted upon your sensitive minds,
Will soon be released from confinement...
As an empathetic guilt,
Is beginning to be found by those blind...
And historically fantasized by their depictions,
Of a civilization so perfect in etiquette...
Could never find a way,
To socially realize!
A pattern disguised with pretensions and lies.
With the Who amongst the published 'Who Are The Whos',
Actually awakening to discover...
Those real 'Whos' are you?
I mean...
Who knew?
Did you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Many Will Come to Know The Effectiveness
Many are realizing,
At their tremendous mental
And,
Physical expense
Realities maintained,
On the telling of lies
Becomes a weakened defense,
Against the power of truth.
Denials raised to stay committed,
To defy what is presented
Once truth begins to combat deceit.
Creates a massive turnaround of events,
The telling of lies can not defeat.
Many are realizing,
At their tremendous mental
And,
Physical expense
Realities maintained,
On the telling of lies
Becomes a weakened defense,
Against the power of truth.
And the evidence of that,
Does not need
A group of experienced archaeologists feeding,
Findings discovered.
In ancient dusted fields.
What is as it is observed,
No longer can deceit conceal.
There 'is' most definitely a reality.
One we all will come to touch, see and feel
As 'thee' truth upon us revealed,
Is unmistaken for its authenticity.
Choose to like it, ignore it or leave it alone.
Many will come to know the effectiveness of it.
And masquerading truth is not condoned.
'How did you know 'that'?
I was private and discreet.'
Truth is not like deceit to be hidden.
And those unaware of that,
Find themselves victims of their own entrapment.
'Where did you study this? '
You are pitiful.
You didn't know that did you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Do Liars Then Do?
Liars know who they are.
And what they have done,
To pursue temporary satisfactions.
With a demoralizing of whom they choose.
As if what they've done will stick like glue.
Those who have been scrutinized,
By the telling of false lies...
To have been victimized with tears cried.
Are aware of them too!
Yet to retaliate is something they refuse.
But those who have been undermined,
Do what liars instigating have chosen not to do.
And that is to wait patiently,
To let time intervene...
With a demeaning liars with an applying of truth.
What do liars then do?
Plead to be released from mental guilty beatings.
And even if forgiven,
Liars once exposed for who they are...
Can never find places to keep themselves hidden.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bombarded By A Variety Pleasures
There is a seeking to be entertained.
Not a desire to have their brains engrained,
With a maintained wisdom that sustains a momentum...
Gaining in comprehension, no!
They have done their best...
To restrict and depict as weak the existence of reality.
Delusion!
That's it.
A delusion that fits,
The welcoming of an expecting temperament.
With a keeping of secret misdeeds meant kept,
Self righteously protected by a deception expressed.
Delusion for them is the idol that symbolizes life.
And the living of it the way they like...
Bombarded by a variety pleasures.
And deceits of all kinds to lead away innocent minds,
Kept behind the scenes to partake as intended with others...
While discussing the rules and the nature of a game played.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Eyes Open Have the Ability to See Through Concrete
Too much of it had been ignored.
And now a game played to catch up,
With reality is in full force...
By those seeking rules and regulations.
With something to limit full exposure,
That is easy to document and follow.
But truth and reality are not substitutes,
To be interchanged, exchanged or arranged by delusion.
Lies...yes!
Some perfected.
Deceit...yes!
Sometimes rejected.
But seldom suspected for what it is.
Charades and masquerades...
May be acceptable behind masks.
Truth pursued is strategic free.
And that task uncomfortable...
For the ones assigned to assist those blind!
And anyone who has been introduced to reality,
Becomes immediately aware of its focus.
Nothing about it is hidden behind veils!
Eyes open have the ability to see through concrete.
With penetrating results.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Misinformatologist
Seduced by the telling of lies,
Or misinterpretations...
Disguised to hide reality,
Reduces one to become a liar too.
Or...
A misinformatologist.
And difficult it is,
To know which way forward...
An exit to escape to embrace truth,
When one is in the midst of this...
Wishing to be amongst others,
Who have chosen to turn away...
To protect their minds,
From a contamination infesting...
That keeps others' minds infected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Is It Just the Image
Which one of these traditions,
Seem more defended?
Is it deceit or delusion?
With the state of the economy,
Thrown in as an afterthought.
You know...
Those thoughts that come after,
Reality is addressed.
With little purpose considered,
As a notable priority.
False impressions are kept intact.
Fantasized lives that are not coming back...
Are given forums and empathized speeches.
Only a grandmother knitting from the third row,
Would appreciate this flow of debated pudding.
Which one of these traditions,
Seem more defended?
Is it deceit or delusion?
Or is it just the image...
Needing the most protection!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Far Beyond Limits Of Restrictions
If a peeling away of every layer of their pretentions,
Is their intention...
More than an economic crisis now experienced,
Will be revealed.
They also will discover,
A weakness in their deceit and delusion...
Has increased in awareness,
By those they have chosen to oppress...
With their foolish beliefs,
That a truth 'they' seek...
Is a concept of their creative mentalities.
To continue a manipulation they alone control.
Not so.
As the evolution of those reaching a higher consciousness,
Are lifted to new plateaus to view and 'see' with visions...
Far beyond limits of restrictions.
Or druthers of others sold on dominance and confusion.
With a leaving behind those of demented minds!
As a magnitude of this reality and truth,
Breaks free...
From confined and defined divisions of flaunted greed,
That has suppressd with a keeping of a materialistic feeding!
These times that have arrived are here to stay.
And can not be chased away or threatened by ignorance.
No religious or political movement,
In this invisible 'spiritualness' is involved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Investment to Manipulate Eternity
Reality slowly has to you been revealed.
But your addiction to fantasy,
Has left truth to be suspected.
Even though you are quick to be deceived...
Anything that reeks of an apology,
You will receive and believe.
Thinking this action,
Provides you a more respected life!
And an investment to manipulate eternity.
And those with their eyes closed,
Have chosen to overdose on fed delusion.
Numb they are to anything that is real.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One Has Standards to Maintain
Are you a joke?
Or is this an inappropriate time,
For your life to be lived.
And your dreams of securing a house,
With a white picket fence...
Seems too rich in delusion.
And undernourished.
Lacking in an acceptance of reality.
And you laugh at 'me' and my perceptions,
Quick.
One of us desires for yesterday to make a comeback.
And the other refuses to accept anything from yesterday,
At all.
Including those delusions,
Assembled for a fast marketing of trash repackaged.
One has standards to maintain.
The other?
Has a sanity to protect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With Words To Express, Define Or Explain
Smothered under thick layers of lies!
Suppressed by deceptions,
That keeps them self obsessed...
To excuse with alibis.
And no longer accepting the affects of self examination.
With cleared and open wider eyes.
They are first taught to assume positions,
Of being the center of the Universe.
Although from where they sit on Earth,
No one knows where up or down is.
Or if they are witnessing the left or right of it.
They learn to judge,
From lessons learned from birth first...
That whatever else exists,
From delusions quick to depict themselves...
Flawless.
There is a need to believe this ridiculousness,
Regardless of reality...
They wish with attempts to reverse.
And to curse those who are conscious...
With broadening observations,
Sought to seek and within them thirst.
With restricting limits,
Many self righteous think of others immediately...
By values and standards crumbling beneath their feet.
But yet refuse to see their own self imposing defeat,
From a medicating on maintaining minds addicted to fantasies.
And denying the existence of truth,
There to reduce their increasing agonies enforced and produced.
No matter how overwhelming the evidence,
Of a need for them to awaken from a maddening ignorance.
They've become too addicted to free and release to leave behind.
And unfortunate for them are these times we live,
That are completely out of their control...
Unfolding!
For all to behold with nothing left to be said,
With words to express, define or explain.
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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Time To Belittle
What is so funny?
'How small minds gather with other small minds,
To then associate with more smaller minds...
Who all find the time to belittle.'
In height?
Or in thought process?
Which one?
Why are you staring at me?
'Jokes are not suppose to be analyzed.
That's why they are called jokes.'
Oh!
I get it 'now'.
Not to 'belittle'.
But to be 'little'.
'Forget it.
Just forget it.'
Don't be made at me.
You could have kept that one to yourself.
I would have used 'disparaged' instead, anyway.
'Father...?
Why is it 'me'? '
Stop looking up in the sky.
That answer is not there.
Trust me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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130
Easy delusion?
tough reality?
Wondering what to do
Always choose the latter
& work it through.
You will be happier
and freer if you do.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Come Closer
Are you an illusion of my delusion?
I seem to feel you from another time!
I seem to have had you in my mind.
And here you appear as clear to me.
Leaving me to wonder if this could be...
What I sought I could not touch in my dreams!
Is this real?
Is this reality?
When you look at 'me'
Do I appear to you as you appear to me?
Are you an illusion of my delusion?
Come closer...
Make me believe!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Regretting Their Actions
Unfortunate are those,
Who select their victims with venom.
Those who are blinded by an agenda picked,
Without facts that are offered to them...
But set with a mindset,
To appease a personal illness.
And this had been done with ease.
Unfortunate are those,
Deciding to choose the ones perceived,
As vulnerable.
Those they believed were without friends.
Those they have chosen,
To be open and defenseless.
Unfortunate are those with minds like this!
And they are the ones to ultimately suffer the most.
First to scream an unjustice has been done.
Although they are the ones,
To instigate...
Their own pain and defeat!
And exposed to be evil...
From discretions selected privately.
Now publicly observed as acts to deceive.
Unfortunate are the ones like these...
Regretting their actions,
At the expense of destroying their own lives.
Weeping and seeking...
Places to hide!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Scary
Yes I can deny
I hide from you
A part of myself
That cries inside.
No matter what is done,
Or said...
It's sad for me to see
You believe in lies
Carried in your head.
Your stubbornness isn't charming.
Nor is your virtuousness a lift for change.
There is a bi-polar tendency...
That keeps me on edge,
Waiting for your lunacy
To become more obviously deranged!
That's what I dred!
And I'm not making an appointment...
To have those times arranged!
I'm looking for an exit instead!
Yes I can deny I hide from you.
Although that's exactly what it is I do!
I am trying to get you off my pack.
Since your conflicting points of view,
Frightens!
They attack.
Knowing so many like you are convinced...
Reality can be condensed to avoid,
With a supported delusion that destroys!
And that is scary to know you applaud its reception!
I'd rather turn my back.
But I'm afraid to do even that!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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