Disorienting

Poem By Lawrence S. Pertillar

My fellow citizens.
We have come to the threshold,
Of letting go our precious delusions.
With it to realize,
The very fiber of our souls...
Will rely on all of us,
To accept who we are to have become.
Yes.
And disorienting it may be,
For some of us more accustomed than others.
Who have chosen to receive,
A reality to know it...
From TV, movies and books.
Depicting how people are,
Based upon their looks.
Political affiliations.
And symbolized images we idolize.
For purposes to identify reasons 'why',
We remain faithfully and religiously hooked.
To all of this...
Escalation of madness.
So unfair it is to betray ourselves this way.

Disorienting these days may be.
To have minds completely severed from truth.
Keeping truth disqualified as true to believe.
Yet...
Accept we do,
Animated cartoon animals...
To have more intelligence.
More integrity.
More...

"Excuse me.
Sorry to interrupt.
But,
I have forgotten why we are here."

How many times have we've discussed this?
We have come to release ourselves from,
Deception.
Lives lived without honesty.
We are here to bury the hatchet of division.
And unearth our souls from ongoing,
Pointless accusations placed upon others.
We must acknowledge we create.

"Oh.
So,
We are not suppose to dig up dirt?
You told a few of us to find on others."

No!
Of course not.
You misunderstood the mission.
We are here to plant seeds of forgiveness.

"Oh?
But I thought you said..."

Sssshhh.
Not now.
Can't you see.
I am in the midst of attempting to convince,
We are the righteous, wholesome kind.

"Because...
If I may say so.
About that dirt.
You wanted us to find on 'those' crooks?
Well...
I'm finding more of it on us.
Now,
Which dirt should we consider to be...
The dirtier of the dirtiest dirt to keep? "

Oh how I wish,
You had not broadcasted this.
What a predicament.
Now I'll have to pretend,
I don't know you.

"But...
Your initials are monogrammed,
On each of our shovels."

Comments about Disorienting

There is no comment submitted by members.


Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of PERTILLAR

$10 A Gallon?

$10 a gallon?
For what?

'Does that really matter now?

$5 A Barrel Of What?

Oil?
Now sold at what?
Five dollars a barrel?
This is an immediate sign,

' The Freed Of Getting Frisked At Your Risk Foundation '

We are pleased you have chosen to run again,
For public office.
However...
There are a 'few' who donated to your campaign efforts,

(the) Fate Of Fatal Lovers

Fated to be in a togetherness...
No one comprehends but them.

The fate of fatal lovers,

(the) Budding Grace Of April

It's the 28th of April,
And the 29th comes soon.
The 27th was a Friday that passed,
In a year that speeds...

(the) Bigger Lie

Which liars deny,
They did or did not tell...
The bigger lie.
Or acknowledge any used,