You Have No Idea What You Are Up Against
You have no idea what you are up against.
And yet you have been conditioned,
To pray to 'It' without committment!
It hears and listens to all of the nonsense.
With those professions of devotion...
From an emptiness,
Faithfully dismissed.
As soon as the ritual...
Has satisfied a mind,
Limited in consciousness.
You have no idea what you are up against.
And yet you have been conditioned,
To pray to 'It' without committment!
In a belief whatever 'It' is...
Can be overwhelmed by flattery.
With wishes the 'act' delivers,
Something that can be 'shown'
How much you known 'It'!
And 'It' has chosen you...
To make 'Its' presence known!
Whether you 'own' or lease,
Your chariot from your sheltered crevice.
You have no idea what you are up against.
And yet you have been conditioned,
To pray to 'It' without committment!
And this 'It' sees.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Infliction Of It
Refresh my committment with a joy apparent.
Restore that excitement,
My heart knew...
In the best of my better days.
Help me pray to make my devotion stay,
Focused and undeterred.
With a force that does not linger.
And unchain my heart from emotional melodies,
I refuse to keep singing.
I want to compose new tunes.
With an acceptance of a divine presence,
That allows my existence greatness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Conditioned That Money Should Be Prized
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course their own lives,
Are going to be worthless to them.
With the use of color of their skins,
Light in complexion or dark as night...
Their minds with insights may be encased in,
The mentalities fed are to use this as a weapon,
To defend or ignite one's bigoted and racist appetite.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course there will be deceit.
Of course there will be told lies.
And those who champion the marketing of images,
Aren't going to consciously reflect true beauty...
As it should be.
Beauty will be selective.
And chosen as a commodity.
To sell to those impressed,
And depress with suppression...
Those weakened through enforcing a belief!
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course there will be deceit.
Of course there will be told lies.
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Of course their own lives,
Are going to be worthless to them.
Of course they are going to feel subservient,
From birth until their lives end!
When people are conditioned,
That money should be prized...
Those who get and hoard it best,
Will have others believe...
Their minds are at rest!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Idea
An Idea can change the world, how many
things can be done from an idea, every piece
of object was an idea, sense the beginning of
time idea was the first thought created in the
mind, an idea is what surround’s every being.
But an idea is still only an idea and it can't be
felt, you cannot touch an idea or kiss it, or hold it,
ideas do not bleed or feel pain or love, an idea
cannot be seen or heard, its created in our thoughts,
but then again an idea can become real. An idea
can be what ever you which it to be, an idea can
be destructive, an idea can be brilliant, I've seen
people get killed in the name of ideas, ideas,
we walk around with a little
light bulb blinking in our thoughts, ideas.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Nothing Else Is Needed
I need not know,
That you are blessed.
Nor am I tasking the time,
To see if you show it!
Like those self righteous,
With wings and halos.
Quoting highlighted scriptures...
From Bibles,
As they glow!
Hopefully there is a gratefulness.
Internally felt.
And a consciousness,
That expresses a thankfulness.
Confessions of a closeness to the Creator,
Which is The Most High...
Is a personal committment,
One daily lives.
And not considered a championship to win.
With expectations The Almighty will forgive,
Any and all sins.
As we have been religiously conditioned.
This should not be a bet...
One chooses to pursue to prove in a contest.
To regret upon one's transformation into death.
I need not know,
That you are blessed.
Nor am I tasking the time,
To see if you show it!
If it is felt,
Nothing else is needed...
To qualify this feeling.
And the sensation this feeling brings.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How Do I Pray?
Pray, pray
How do I pray?
Usually at the
end of my day.
Pray, pray
For what do I pray?
I pray for peace
in everyone's day.
Pray, pray
To whom do I pray?
To my soul giver
that's not far away.
Pray, pray
Why do I pray?
For if there's a heaven
maybe someday
The praying was worth it
and then I'll know
where those that don't pray
will have to stay.
And pray and pray
and pray all day.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Just Cant Make It By Myself
(words & music by clara ward)
I need jesus to guide me every day
As Im travellin along this rough and narrow way
Though afflictions fill my soul
Im determined to make the goal
Ive gotta have jesus cause I just cant make it by myself
Every day I pray (pray) pray (pray)
Pray (pray) pray (pray)
I pray (pray) pray (pray
Pray pray pray
Pray and ask the lord jesus
Dont leave me by myself
Every mornin through the years I pray
You know Ive got to have jesus
I just cant it by myself
By myself
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take up one idea. Make that one idea your life - think of it, dream of it, live on idea. Let the brain, muscles, nerves, every part of your body, be full of that idea, and just leave every other idea alone. This is the way to success.
quote by Swami Vivekananda
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes I Pray
Sometimes I pray before I sleep;
Sometimes I pray, the lord; my soul to keep,
Sometimes I pray.....
Sometimes I pray in the morning;
Sometimes I pray for those in mourning,
Sometimes I pray.....
Sometimes I pray for rain;
Sometimes I pray for nomore pain,
Sometimes I pray.....
Sometimes I pray before i eat;
Sometimes I pray for good bread and meat,
Sometimes I pray.....
Sometimes I pray, my baby; that you'll stay;
But only sometimes for these things do I pray,
For I talk to my Lord everyday...
poem by Nkululeko Mdudu
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If You Don't From Them Leave!
When mouths are open and ears are closed...
Walk away from this.
Do not hesitate,
As if waiting for this to change.
Walk away from this.
People have been conditioned and trained,
Not to hear or further listen.
Pieces of what they miss is impatiently dismissed
Walk away from this.
When mouths are open and ears are closed...
People will choose ignorance to expose.
Since they have been conditioned to not listen.
And folks convinced like these...
Will bring you to your knees,
If you don't from them decide you should leave!
If you don't from them leave! ,
You're doomed to grieve.
Minds like these are locked without a key.
Walk away from this.
People have been conditioned and trained,
Not to hear or further listen.
Pieces of what they miss is impatiently dismissed
Walk away from this.
Before your life becomes a misery.
And choose to move and do it instantly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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With Few Exceptions To Debate
Some believe what I do is easy.
Even making comments...
Abundant with amusing quips.
As if I command each selected word.
Without a single pressured thought,
Connected to the delivery done of this!
With no apparent devotion...
Or committment attached to it!
I never wished my steps babied.
Like, maybe, some suspect!
I was raised to be responsible.
With a respect to protect.
I remember my mother saying...
'Care less what names you are called.
Do as I expect!
And that is all.'
My sisters and I were taught this,
From the time we could talk and crawl.
It was the kind of love that did not smother.
Or keep us sheltered,
Behind restricting walls.
There were expectations.
With few exceptions to debate.
Some believe what I do is easy.
Even making comments...
Abundant with amusing quips.
As if I command each selected word.
Without a single pressured thought,
Connected to the delivery done of this!
With no apparent devotion...
Or committment attached to it!
But nothing has come to this man easy.
Oh, I've felt the queasies in my stomach.
And threw up more than I admit!
I've learned it takes effort to get around,
Those who have missions to knock me down.
To cripple my abilities to get up and stand.
But no clues do I give to tease.
In regards to that strength kept inside of me.
Nor who it is that I am...
That makes me stand tall,
With an arrogance that is grand!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Gods and Husbands
Men are conditioned to cleave to the gods.
Women are conditioned to cleave to husbands.
No rationales can uproot their tendencies.
These are in the genes, planted long ago..
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Pavlov's Dog: Advanced Lesson
Pavlov was a psychologist, I think
Who supplied his dogs with food and drink
But always preceded the giving of the victuals
By ringing a bell, that was his ritual
The dogs became conditioned and would be begin salivating
Upon hearing the bell, which to the food they were relating
Their mind was programmed by this little tinkle
Though they didn't realise it, they had no inkle
The noise of a bell, though it didn't taste or smell like food
Got these dogs in a very hungry mood
Just like smokers are conditioned to relax and unwind
By inhaling noxious fumes which only confuse their mind
(Sydney, Australia - 2006)
poem by Alessandra Liverani
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Unaccustomed to Set Limits
Spoiled.
Greedy...
And selfish.
All unregrettably,
Connected to a mindset...
Unaccustomed to set limits.
Even with limits presented...
They have been conditioned,
To pray.
In the hopes that a god depicted,
Will grant their wishes...
To have it their way.
A god to demand they made exclusive.
To protect and induce them...
With the right to invade foreign lands.
To take from others' hands,
What they have...
And slay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pray
I pray for your safety my love
Pray your dreams be fulfilled
Pray for help from God above
Pray a shattered world rebuild
Pray with me, that all are fed
Pray our Lord God will listen
Pray we see what lay ahead
Pray our mortal souls be risen
Pray for all who now do suffer
Pray for respite from their pain
Pray empathy provides a buffer
Pray for those few gone insane
Believe sincere prayers always work
Believe prayer lights where Satan lurks
(Dedicated to my Beloved)
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Conditioned To Request Permission
No need to treat me like an alley cat.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
Any happiness we get.
No need to treat me like an alley cat.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
Any happiness we get.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
The pursuing of the blooming...
We expect and accept,
With any happiness we get.
Oh...
Oh oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
To investigate a picked division.
And whoa,
A oh oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
To investigate a picked division.
No need to treat me like an alley cat.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
Any happiness we get.
No need to treat me with suspicion,
And live with secret inhabitions.
Why should we accept conditions,
That might invite future division.
Whoa,
A oh oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
To investigate a picked division.
No need to treat me like an alley cat.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
Any happiness we get.
No need to treat me like an alley cat.
Because you are addicted...
To those rumors that will ruin,
Any happiness we get.
Oh...
Oh-oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
To investigate a picked division.
And whoa,
A oh-oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
To investigate a picked division.
Oh...
Oh-oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
And whoa,
A oh-oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
And whoa,
A oh-oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission...
And whoa,
A oh-oh....
Oh,
Why should we be the ones conditioned,
To request permission!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dedication Activated
A dedication activated,
Is not sacrificial.
For the one,
That crosses over...
The threshold of complete devotion.
A committment that remains loyal,
Has for one a benefit.
Although in the doing of it seems to isolate.
What one does and chooses,
May be to others misunderstood.
But the knowing of what has been done,
Needs for the doer...
No explanation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One Wished. One Had. One Glad It's Gone
When I think of you and trust,
I am thinking of us and no one else.
But Lately I am cautiously near you,
With suspicion...
I wish would go away.
What did you do when you did it?
I've been so blindly romancing you.
I stumble over my own fantasies!
When I think of you and Lust!
I...
Whew! !
Would you like that graphic?
And detailed?
I...do...not...hear...you.
'Why should I respond?
What's going on in your head and mine,
Are on two separate journeys.'
Where was I when 'that' happened?
'Not listening. Thoughtless. Uncaring and distant.'
And where did 'you' go?
The 'you' I thought I knew.
'I'm not going to waste a 'trip' on you.
We've been through that.
And...
Where do I go?
When did you start caring about that? '
So..
What was done you did,
Had to have been recent.
You have lost desire, passion...
And,
Don't say 'committment'!
'I will whisper it!
And maybe 'then' it will connect,
In your head.'
When I think of you,
I stumble over my own fantasies.
I am thinking of us and no one else.
I've been so blindly romancing you.
I stumble over my own fantasies!
When I think of you...
Now.
And what was done you did...
Whatever you did do...
I could not desire you without passion.
And well...
What 'is' committment?
'One wished. One had. One glad it's gone.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Pre-Conditioned
Most of us,
Have been pre-conditioned...
To find good jobs.
Odd or not...
But that job sought,
We eventually got!
Instead of creating them.
Most of us,
Had been in that position.
And pre-conditioned...
To look for something already there.
Without paving a path with motivation.
Hoping what we did...
Secured us for years,
And would last!
Passing along that abstraction,
To our 'kids'.
Most of us...
Seek approval from some.
To find out from them,
If they accept what we've done.
Most of us...
Live lives confused.
And sit to await...
For that sacrifice to be appreciated.
With a love developed to sing the blues...
Feeling distraught and sometimes used.
And others who seem to fulfill their dreams...
Are often the ones who come to stun,
Some,
Who complain nothing for them changes.
Becoming strangers...
Even to themselves.
While those of us stay pre-conditioned,
To superstitions and beliefs.
And tied religiously,
With pleas to relieve us from sorrow and grief.
Fixed in prayer,
And down on our knees.
Stuck without movement...
As if sealed,
In concrete!
Hoping God...
Will bestow upon us our desires!
With His understanding...
We are obedient as we sit.
To observe a miracle!
And demanding He delivers it.
Leaving God to wonder what it is,
We wish.
Since He has not seen,
Any evidence of those on their knees...
Applying any elbow grease,
And/or working towards it!
Whatever it is that is wished.
Knowing His creations are here to benefit.
With the aid of His assistance.
And He too waits...
To see who takes the initiative!
And most of us,
He knows.
Just don't get,
This process.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Annual Recycling of Needs
The annual recycling of needs,
Is an inner city ritual.
The people are programmed to believe...
Their fortunes are less than the rest.
And so they are assigned to become protected,
By those the government selects...
They should receive assistance,
IF they qualify!
Of course many are denied,
The taste of keeping them enslaved!
They become disrespectful,
Unmotivated, lazy and mentally depraved.
They become conditioned to pray.
And they stay away from truths.
Becoming accepting of lies,
They pursue to overcome insecurities...
And immaturity keeps them as children,
To be told everything they say and do!
And when opportunities come to them,
They remain unprepared.
And for generations many of them can not comprehend...
Their uselessness has been designed,
To remove them from identities.
With mediocrity as goals to achieve.
And minds ignorantly limited.
Distant from reality.
And kept successfully unaware!
In an annual recycling of needs that is permitted...
To keep them subserviant!
And ensuring they remain there!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Admittedly, a homosexual can be conditioned to react sexually to a woman, or to an old boot for that matter. In fact, both homo - and heterosexual experimental subjects have been conditioned to react sexually to an old boot, and you can save a lot of money that way.
quote by William S. Burroughs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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