Warning: Use dis list in context.*

You decide on which side you fall.

disappear
disregard
disaster
displace
disqualify
disrepair­
disturb
dissipate
disability
dispose
dismal
distribute
distrust
­disturb
discriminate
discuss
disdain
disguise
dishearten
disinher­it
disown
disparage
disagree
disgruntle
disclose
discolour
disput­e
disarm
discover
disassemble
disadvantage
disallow
dispossess
di­scontent
discontinue
disrespect
disincline
discomfort
disrepute
d­ishonest
disillusion
dishonor
dismiss
disobey
disjoin
disappoint
­discipline
discord
discern
discrete
disfigure
disconnect
disappro­ve
discharge
disbar
disease
discord
disfavor
disengage
disassocia­te
discipline
discount
disembody
displace
dissaray
disembowel
dis­combobulate
discredit
discourse
disentangle
disenfranchise
disemb­ark
discard
disburse
disbelief
discover
disable
disagree
disinteg­rate
dismay
dispense
dislodge
disclaimer
disapprove
dissatisfy
di­srupt
dispel
dislike
dismantle
disloyal
disbatch
disrobe
disperse­
display
disaprove
disciple
disavow
disconcert
disinfect
disorder­
dismal
dismember
displease
dissemble
disunity
dislocate
distort
­distrust
distress
dissolute
disassociate
distill
discect (?)
distemper
distain
distasteful
distraught
dissolve
dissonant
d­issuade

And dis isn't de end.

What I seek here is as a writer astutely commented “it was the pure breath of God playing on
Human heart strings” where better to start than an instrument that is played in such fashion
Solely by the wind its name is from ****** the Greek god of the wind my changeup calls for the
Wind of the one true God my line in lost friend not a person but a great black oak that grew on
A California ranch for over a hundred years in a storm it was destroyed the lines read this way
Two divergent seeds the ground did divide one of wooden grain the other flesh and blood
Their branches throughout the community do abide as charming as church bells ringing touching all the
Flesh and blood pertains to the ranch family that was so honored by this majestic guest all those years
That’s what I am speaking of bells are associated with the Aeolian harp because their sound is carried on
The wind crisp and clean without contamination this is written that we might prepare ourselves and
Have the pure spirit blow across our souls and from it have a better year ultimately a better life first in
These examples we will move closer to the Aeolian harp you will see this isn’t just living but its
Excelling in the richest spheres our lives can and must strive for this magnificence we are not
Just here just to expend time and enjoy ourselves we are to be in pursuit of a great and eternal
Reward there are many stratus of life others are in earthy terms more advanced that is only on
Social levels in the spirit we truly are equal each according to their gifts will answer on a same
Plane fair and honest judgment so that alone should birth passion in each one I want to be the
Best I can be not to out show another but to present our selves honorably and show we put in
The same effort as others first know all are not chosen to have such dramatic tunes of the harp
To drift across life’s varied landscape ours still will be unique and the highest tunes possible and
Will resound with glory we ourselves to a degree will be pleasantly surprised truly so it will be
Determined on the closeness we have with His Holy spirit when I first heard the harp was in
Hannibal Missouri I was in this rich place of American story telling the boy hood home of
Samuel Clemens better known as Mark Twain I was on the river frontage road the great
Mississippi was to my right but I wasn’t thinking of Tom Sawyer my thoughts weighed heavy on
My mind I was far away up by Chicago at a church where brother and Sister Willis was pastor
Then back in the present here in Hannibal this was their home town a beautiful blonde eight
Year old was their pride and joy life was full she had a older brother who was ten it was a
Musical joyous life and then dark ominous clouds rolled in one so filled with life small and
Gentle it was one of the cruelest and terrifying cancers sorry even her death was terrifying in
The midst of tears and anguish they prompted the Aeolian harp to play they brought her home
To this historical place that became so much more rich and sacred when they lay her in the
Cemetery it came as a rush it over powered my emotions in my mind I saw her waiting for that
Great call the dead in Christ will rise first and meet him in the clouds of glory then those still are
Living will be caught away with him this young heartbroken father and mother with
Out hesitation or actuation by faith and trust they continued and shortly thereafter they started
And completed a larger church the richness of the harp reached across the lost community
Families in peril confused and lost had their ears and hearts opened by the lives of these
Faithful Parents it’s not just about making heaven but look around you at the great and terrible
Day of Judgment the great white throne and He who sets there once the savoir now the judge
Of the world you have others standing there with you as you look at them you can’t help to
Look Beyond His great light and see out in the darkness the deadly silent crying trembling lost
That no one reached or worse they wouldn’t listen the next story of the harp is about Frank
Bartleman the great man God used to bring modern Pentecost to America through the gate of
Azusa St Los Angels he arrived in Los Angeles with his wife and two young daughters December
22 January his oldest daughter three year old Easter was seized with convulsions and passed
Away he echoed the word from Ester little Queen Ester seemed to have been born for a time such
As this Esther 4:14 “Beside that little coffin with heart bleeding I pledged my life anew for God’s
Work In the presence of death how real eternal issues become of all the music LA has produced
None comes close to the sounds made by the Aeolian harp that day all the days since and all
The Souls whose shouts resounded then and now what joy bells are ringing throughout the
Years you read this the harp cuts thorough every excuse every denial we make when His love is
Calling over pastoral fields over head white clouds azure blue sky a single white dove the son of
Man personally calls to you I love you you’re missing so much following the false and deadly
Trends of this world come let me pull you close your land a waste land of just material things in
My presence unquestioned exception hurts carried for years will be healed only as a father can
Do your guilt will be forever cast away moral purity that your soul cries for will be heaped in
Your life no longer dark shadows that haunt but real true life that satisfies to the uttermost it
Will heal bring new understanding addictions are flimsy bindings that hold only because you
Seek all things that are rooted in disfavor my favor knows no bounds and you will be free I will
Breathe my spirit and you will know the Aeolian harp tunes and breathtaking wonder will swirl
Through your mind heart and spirit Heaven will displace the black strangle hold of this world
Centered anew the rays of the cross and my love breaks every yoke true freedom is yours for
time and eternity

Spectrous aberrations of youth
Surround him, embrace him
Leaving him disoriented, dismayed
Amidst sultry belongings
He’s tethered to that pole of vicissitude
Draped by disfavor
Postmarked Valhalla
Addressed to Folkvangr
Teased by irreverent lovers
In pursuit of contentment
His chronicles restart
In an unpublished testament
Bound by leather, cows unfettered
One lifeless body stationary
Crimson streams part chalk-dry lips
As love’s guillotined victim drips
His future’s fortune forsaken
Willingness to triumph in battle
Leaks from this dimension
With each fluxing discharge
Of her stream’s outgoing apathy
And his fluid permeates alluvium
In streambeds near life’s summit

Our world has become a mistaken image
Our bones buried in common rage
We pray to God our souls to keep
And judge ourselves by our favorite page
But what sin has retained our disfavor?
You are of this land, in which you take stock
You know its pain but give it to another man
Because he was born a flower and not a rock

¿Por qué se le tiene miedo a su corazón?
¿Por que hombre?
¿Por que?

Did God give you a sword
Or send a dove?
Was his strength for oppression
Or compassion?
Was every soul made for hate
Or for love?
Is vengeance yours alone
Or nailed to the cross of passion?

¿Por qué intentas daño a tu corazón?
¿Por que hombre?
¿Por que?

Do you wish to rise holding their chains
Or to give them wings
Do you wish to be buried with armor
Or with good deeds?
Do you wish to close the gates behind you
Or bring them all?
Do you wish that God would set fire upon us
Or tear down the wall?

¿Por qué están tratando de matar a tu corazón?
¿Por que hombre?
¿Por que?

We must exist together
Though we may not understand
We were taught to love one another
And to never raise our hand
We must use rocks to line the garden
And not destroy what grows within
For what another man may desire
Only God can comprehend

¿Por que hombre?
¿Por que?

I remember sitting
On the tiny porch
Of my dad’s home
Offended by the sun
That continued to sink and set
Without pausing to acknowledge
My dad’s passing.
Offended by the cars
That continued on the highway;
Callous indifference, it seemed to me.
Even the birds at their feeder
Greedily fed and failed to look up
To mark the loss of their benefactor.

I found myself
Silently demanding condolences
In every encounter.
Not for the sympathy,
Or worse, pity,
But for the acknowledgement
That he was here
And now he’s gone,
And something,
However infinitesimally small
In the scopeless universe,
Has changed.

I have two cousins.
The first called my dad
Every month.
His regular call came
During the last days.
The decline surprised him.
He took a deep breath
And asked for speakerphone
Near my dad.
He told my dad
How much my dad had
Influenced his life;
How as a child,
he anticipated a visit from my dad
Like kids stay up to see Santa;
How my dad made my cousin feel
Like he was the most important kid
In the wide world;

How my dad gave my cousin
The otherwise unavailable
Sustenance of heart
Young boys need;
How my cousin had strived to be
Like my dad
And how he hoped
His own children see in him
What he saw in my dad.

That was acknowledgement,
Profound acknowledgement.

My second cousin called
Shortly after the first.
He had heard
That my dad was dying.
He did not ask
To speak with my dad.
He wanted to tell me
To call him
As soon as memorial
Arrangements were made
So that he could purchase
Discounted airline tickets,
To include a subsequent visit
To his son who lives
In the southern part of the state.

My dad was still living.

That, too, acknowledged something,
And served to impel my pending decision.
So I opted for
A less conventional
Memorial ritual
That required neither
Plane tickets nor attendance
Nor a frozen smile reception.

I would not suffer
Insincere acknowledgement.

I am sure I scandalized
Many acquaintances of my dad
Who enjoyed the social conventions of
The anticipated gathering
If only to point out the deficiencies
Of the event and the host.

I am sure I offended
And frustrated
And embittered
One of my cousins.

The other cousin thought
My dad would have preferred
Sincerity
Over a pantomime.

I would suffer
The disfavor and distaste
Of the discontented
With no difficulty.

~~
Cloud seems sky height tall
Still limitless,
To remove from the bean
Need to stand up once again
Sometimes might be disfavor
A little away, a purple garden
Rather you hold a dream poem
For the New Sunshine
Somewhere Someone preparing
your birthday cake in the oven
Off course to bring a new day
yet there, a night of moonless May
~~

If I said that I loved my life that wouldn't be the truth,
but if I said that I hated it, I'd still be lying,
it's not what I wanted for myself when I was a youth,
**** it, I don't care, I'm gonna keep on trying,
to get with this dream in which the means stay unseen,
to do what I want and and still fulfill what I need,
to get to the top and still remain humble,
to catch my happy ending no matter much I've fumbled,
I'll go through the trials, I'll pay all my dues,
and I won't just be another of the million ******' yous.
I'll stay strong even though I have substantial weakness,
I'll keep positive when it seems like naught but bleakness,
I can have my cake and eat it if I pick a different flavor,
One step at a time, walk the line, out of my own disfavor.
My life is my own, no matter what you have told, just need to find a new perception,
Though it's drastically altered, the life of the father does not end at conception.
When his mom left, I lost my son in my mind,
in dark times, I went out in public to hide,
the drink was my best friend, my lover,
I couldn't tell one day apart from another,
when I went to bed every night, my thoughts were the same,
what's the best place in my house to tie a rope to hang,
Then I wanted to just leave, go Californi-way,
but my sanity resurfaced, begging me to stay,
told me I need to stop thinking just of what I want now,
get this veil in front of my eyes to lift somehow,
I need to fight for what's really important,
and I can't do it all, I'm not omnipotent,
but the worst fear that I've ever ******* had,
is my son to not know me, not recognize his dad,
so no matter what, that's objective number one,
and for once in my life, I won't hide, I won't run.
Rap's not my career, I’d like it to be,
but the eight ball says, “Outlook is bleak”,
So I went back to school, to get a degree,
cause sometimes you gotta tie yourself down to be free.
Not what I dreamed as a kid, but I'm not a kid anymore,
I'm getting with the idea of being a capitalist *****,
The great thing about dreams is that there's malleable,
I don't have to give up if one goes unfulfilled,
A fork in the road is not a dead end,
and my soul's not yet so broken that I can not mend.
So I'll walk this path, doing what I'd rather not,
so that in the end I'll have what I really want,
the respect of my son, and life free of poverty,
a home on the water, whatever body it may be,
and when I close my eyes for my final rest,
to review my life with minimal regrets.

He is a shattered mirror,
with no purpose.
His jagged edges let the world know
that he is trouble,
and trouble shows no mercy.
He lies to me,
but he doesn't care.
His only purpose is to mock,
making me doubt the things I have.
His reflected surface forces me
to disfavor myself,
wishing that I were someone different.
His cracked images twist me,
deforming who I truly am.
I attempt to look beyond his flaws,
but I am engrossed in his disturbed memories,
studying every reasoned blemish,
trying to distinguish the cause.
After learning his history,
I know his distressed faults.
Every scratch an untold story.
Every crack an unread book.
When you look closely,
you start to see the unintended beauty.
When the light shines on him,
his brilliance illuminates.
Every flaw is now radiant,
bursting with flourished creations.
His dark side is masked behind allurement,
astonishing me.
But the light soon fades,
leaving behind the same him I've always known.
His beauty is gone,
leaving him shattered like before.
He attempts to change me again,
but I walk away.

Lonely on a summer eve'
I reckon I've but my pet peeve
Friends calling up here and there
Staring into my window flair
Waking up to see me smile
Yet I cannot seem to dial
As I cannot recall the numbers
And my fingers struggle like cucumbers
Hardly bearing the cold of night
To just for once disfavor a sensational flight..

You look at me with that look
Of disfavor of my deviate thoughts
Thinking that I'm just an open book
You’re pulling out all your shots
You’re making all your sly comments
Thinking it goes over my head
Without the knowledge of the contents
When I say what you don't want to hear
Who’s the first person to knock it down?
Strike out the fear
So I'll sit back and try not to care
For the lack thereof creativity is all that you fear.

Eyelash blinkered in hubris Rubik’s knight
Elevation of pogrom ennobled by triaged triumph minus the cynic summation of all light
Littoral swank bronzed like starlet fantasia with a Carey mountaintop jeer
Reichstag extinguished blaring sirens of cacophony capers to benumbed Linkin Park cheer
Knells intrepid by quakes of remonstrance staged in histrionic applause
Southern Colonies shifting in Charleston surgical in orderly slugabed dogged laws
Slipshod through ribbacles of rengall zenkidu among the sertivine poison ivy
Grimace at gamboled rivulets of a moribund Vanilla Sky for departed wiseacres of savvy dicey ICE toxic Harvey Dent slimy
A mannequin Marx Ralph alienated the truest alien by pioneering disdain of a hostage giraffe summiting a Swiss Alp
Master of time 12th bradycardia for Generator design parked beneath escarpments of base aphasia milquetoast in killjoy Strickland nickels away from a gubbertushed mouth
LOST legend enunciating the furor of epochs of egalitarian traipse
Trapped by the bootlick of a wrinkle of Van Winkle revolutionary agape
Curved by soliliquy master of belletrist prose
The vogue can’t help but bunt, balk, denounce the remembrance of Lady Madonna pose
We beat the muckrakers of rummaged lisp of culinary suns that the sons of privilege are emoluments to apolaustic zeal first known to transmogrified nuns, before the poppies made the few into many and the notion of an insuperable line of infinity into a spherical nullification of the concept of none
Estrapade engorges the fustilug magnet of the kitsch Kenosha Chicago Demolition drive-by-derbies “once read”
That two kings one Titanic by skin-color dashed dreams the other both the coins of tails eloped with heady dreams of head
Sacrifice shadow dancing with pettifoggery in slumps of aboriginal dances of marsupial rice
Native to extortion gouged blind as Samson exacts lachrymose cremations of Pikes Peak trick-or-treat aghast with fright
Temples raised in 46 years cemented never in the Mumbo Jumbo politics of those lacking the oceanic schadenfreude among queers
That by their exclusion the panmixia of fluid alchemy is dauntless scrabble limited by NORAD notions of Tears for Fears
Henpecked rooster awakens the serfdom of Ronald’s (sly spy) Drugs sailing with dovetails of elapse downtrodden in modern clubs
Drunken *** addict sell-out charlatans berated  by Ingram Angles sent by maleficence are the grubhub of Harriet Tubman torching promising tapestries with rugged rugs
Slinging the bait of fish-hook dimples on freckled effigies of ****** humiliation outmantled by Mickey weight
I thunder a fulgurant explosion against recrimination of white-collar criminals that philander saturnalia in pretense with facetious swarpollock freight
Crooks of tyranny exhort the paranoiacs of indemnity to sunken canned soup applause of a Warhol extortion
Berating my audience with drooling slavers of inelegant tortoise byzantine like an Istanbul dredged with intortion
Mr Deeds is not a champion of BRE Properties nor the pinnacles of inertia, a psychiatric squeeze
My orange juice is not a car chase against treecheese in terminal punitive disease
Soaring with the prosperous tongue against the walloped nativism of pounced impounds having too much fun
I let the other guardians of the order of salvation pivot vitriol in loaded dice against Orangutans of Swedish minted gum
Caesar died for the seizure of Anglican pride of a namesake percolating millenia for Brutus in the Washington Bullets of a conquered Ottawa on strike carnal with Chauvinism in regional divide
Never has there been a more hollow trope than the agency of deep state defamation of a scurrilous backbite of gnashing pride
Lost to pollster tricks of acquiescence and caricatures of a menacing personage Swift on the Riff but never the snarling Menace of a Blondie Biff
I tower above the anthills of conformity of luxury in Jamaican Bob Sled Teams testing the curiosity of enlightened “What Ifs”
Canada Dry for striking people enthused by Rye abides in the memory of reform that skulks the skunks that make every Scudworth cry
Because a Dental Dam damsel living in streets of peril fascinated by distance is the contortion of entreaty in the pasquinade of attempts at American Pie
May the city of a figurative crucifixion burn with the irony of a thousand suns as Wendy’s burgers unload on prejudice with albatrosses of winsome puns
Fixed data interpolated by convenient lies of serial killers who aim for blue skies shanked in Oswald infamy for the imposture of any flashbang revenge against cinematic guns
I blacklist the Zemeckis villainy as a trudge of travesty
Hedged lies blinkered by Batman and Robin puns redeemed by Dinosaurs of Amnesty
Obviously belittled by futures etched by a more honest infinity
Because 88 keys are not a stroke because the infinite bees know the parlance of divinity
Invited lissome taxidermies of Capone against teetotalers of parvanimity of vainglory overthrown
Showers the honest hominist reckoning of a world where neither crudity of know-nothing radical polarization owns every inept baritone
Crusading a secular war because the gubbertushed eccedentesiast spinsters of Santa Cruz deserve a gassy overtone
Torch the SC Pacific Avenue for peace
Let the world unite behind a singularity with purpose in ventilation of Speedman’s release
That antithetical Jacks of many names are wed with the progeny of enduring lists of NSA protection rather than rentgourge Denver PD eager to chaos decimated by the decimals of a region forever boycott and impeached
To the decisive curling of the frolicked Abandoned Pool servitude crass disasters are the sheol of impudent flagrant overreach
Regnant on the turmoil of invented throne
I scowl at the chicanery of Capone’s Chicago sweltering with Kenosha infamy tossing contortionist strippers a vulcanized bone in a DIA Diamond that even 11,500 years of knowledge is surpassed in condemnation of screaming E.T. calling the right home
Speak Now because the reach of forever is God appeased not by a kowtow but a mobilized ambition for Why? When? And How?
History will remember gentility as the kind steward rather than a Disco Demolition Derby of urbacity venerating a seasonal Golden Cow
Hipsters flock with folly to South African extortion for freebooters who bootlick the aceldama of war against the sublime currency of a winner surrounded by thugs
TOO MANY URBAN KIDS ARE TAUGHT BY REDUCTIVE TAUTOLOGY TO HATE The United States of America RATHER THAN NURTURING SYNCRETISM IN PATRIOTIC HUGS
Imperfect in design with disagreement in plainest sight
Sometimes libertarianism with a Democratic twinge is clearly in the right that should believe in reform even when the footloose girouettism is too tight
Yet forestalled for authentic grit the grisly rentgourge of venal abysses knows the countermand against Rand with hyperboles of the clearest *******
The true flock congregates around scepters built not with militant graft but a promenade of sultry dance for the defiant C.L.I.T.
Exercise with the Rock knowing school buses of dogmatism inferior are distraught
Dying dogmatism is a peacock of industry the yeggs can easily unlock rather than truckle with truculent Scottish Rites tasty with Connery Scotch
Defenders of the misleading staircase because of the carapace of Hovering pertinacity easily won and bought
Neither scary nor deliberate streets are rumpus of elevations of unbounded anarchy considerate but robbed by the illiterate
That the delegated mansion will be robbed by the cooperation of the remorseful idiot recognizing his snide mendaciloquence in destructive Roswell Records limerick
Scowls are on petrol and patrol hoping Tesla is a short of bravado too intrepid to sanction free-for-all profligacy in alleys that bowl
To the Emerald Street lie of hypes of perdition rather than merely a seasonal token embarrassment coal
The fossilized future is the irrevocable past because more respect is needed than the ***** of a maskirovka caste
Diamond Lightning in Bhagavad Gita prancing with the delusion of the everlasting mummification of Brawndo ash
Dinner with Egyptsy malingers on tomes etched flippant in integrity and all about the curated snare of kitsch cash
The cache valley of LASER tag shattered like Joseph Smith flagellating the confederate hayday with articulate gnash
Fast & Furious the amused by Suburban subway know the trailblazer trashes of The Stupids’ being Einstein about Boogie Dubs rather rash
Streaking through a Tucker rule the Buccaneers live for the SoulSeek of a riddled ruler benighted of prerogative of Roger Goodell bumping in his Ferrari the tucked serenade of Tool
Wrong band because they linger in the shadow dancing backpages of scandals of Norweigan hourglasses of shameful hush hush Vikings mining furloughs of pulverized anticipation sand
Humbled retinue shelves the ossified limpid droll drool
As the haze of submarines scouting pridefall galls of indolence betraying innocence becomes moral cigarettes of Menthol Kool
Reparations for chappy chapstick games of bowery riches
The urbane needs to read, discern and maneuver against whiplash found in Navi witches
Swapping homes with crack addict legalese an *** to a bronzed party crackling with cackles Home Alone
Knows a toiletry of escape gullible like Seahawks wishing they could contain a fumbled season by Mahomes
Jones methamphetamine paranoiac manure desiccated by folksy homilies of brimstone cremation deserts his flock to abide by a flagging wayward temptress
Decimated by the agency of time his Austin crenellation flounders in grimace of the untimely swoon his covert empress
Blinded by the light of darkness in subversion
Excoriated for the deeds of his permission to demote commotion into only an acquiescent dance with barbed etch-a-sketch conclusion- a half-baked *******
Quacksalver poetaster wrinkled with hatred simpering paranoia strangled by Hendrix abeyance of turgid delusion
Lurid underground Princeton gilds infested with defected dementia in cozens in the fritty of heralded mistress SHE appointed
Sandlot ravens cloistered the bravado of thirst for chosen words scrappy in clawed henpecks the pointless illegal sanctioned to brusque witticism anointed
Lamps of pathway sparkle with coruscated stargazer Winslet dreamy swank illustrious by providence
Engrenage of delopes of pettifoggery identity staggers the woozy dismal day of disjointed wounds on Native sons Denver can’t damage in a lonely campaign for the prodigal bends of Overlook Lorraine Motel bent
Intrepid in gallantry I swoop the scrivello tusked with might
Penetrating the vivid dreams of the serenade of alpenglow daylight
That love might rule over chance and probability above the specter of dynasty prodigy progeny tithing gravity in rent
Yet this taper of majestic poise will outfox even the careless gambles of the prodigal son Mr Sender already traipsed conquered and went
The mountaintop is so clear from the cloister of authenticity drinking Eminence Front of the WHO rather than the coherence of the near
Because titans shepherd the good flock without insult and not quavering with insuperable time flackey with tremulous fear
I dare this day to outlast benighted ignorance of the narrow gate of a persecution tsunami on a Lisbon tear
Because galloping ahead of the internecine sheds the serpentine craft of 3:1 Genesis met with the worst fleeced fleer
Not auctioned off like ******* vogue to the disfavor of poor taste
I am the true Royal Flush that can always count on the aced basic but mostly acidic flourish of a jest in bass predicated on the basis for Mozart pH
Today could be the summit of acclimated prodigy in startled degrees temerity could never bet against
Because you better bet the Bros and Cos of civilization are skilled in ostentation of Sterling Pound defense
Never offensive to the liturgy of triumph beckoning an apocalypse now tentative memory on a Manifest Destiny frontier rarely on wickers of extinguished cattle ranchers knowing the gamut of acumen to defend a fortress with the best fencing James Bond could dispense
Now is either a cordial joke of a flagrant anarchy balking at destiny
Or the sunrise majesty of the twelve tribes and beyond defeating the stingy bees of infamy
Your choice doesn’t defeat my voice
But your action heralds my loyalty with a triumphant Victoria of an age not for agelast geeks intimidated but living clairvoyance with fidelity to the right choice for the right time to swim in elegant rejoice
(1977 Words)

Grim caress of isolation, a heavenly cry demanding redemption. Craven endowment my falsehood of truth- breathless despair and vast prudence. Walk with me into the maw of our oblique future... We find ourselves at the shores of revision, to trust in avertable needs. I am immolation, you are a privilege. Shameful ways and harmful words, for a thousands suns could not lumminate these woods. You are without a face, divine and out of reach, a partisan of faith, with a lifetime to be. The enigma of the lost forever in disfavor. Unfamiliar with the now ohh the burden of desire.

These denizens of creation
fall short in our bifurcated minds..
We render ourselves
as the conscious ones
find disfavor on those below..
Yet now with a quantum question
we ask who is conscious
and consulting our experience
which is always at ready
an answer returns:
not dogs, not cats, not plants or rocks
and amazingly not our divided selves..
The quantum question receives its answer:
only consciousness is conscious..
This fearful response
settles into freedom
for all those dogs and cats and all...

my heart is a violin, you played with my heart strings
I was hungry for love, but now for happiness I'm starving
darling, my mind is a movie theater and it's our memories I'm watching
scarring my mind, you're still a part of me
but now I can give up trying to be what you want to see
honestly, the memories are good but I want an eraser
because when I say goodbye, I'll just see you in my mind later
you colored my life with marker, but now I'm starting to see grayer
I disfavor everything that we turned to
you lit my paper heart and I'm sorry that it burned you
I turned to the worst, I got out of hand
spilling dramatic feelings like an emotional soda can
but I had the right to be angry and people are different when they're mad
although you knew you had the knife, and you even took a stab
so is it my fault? it's what I wonder in the ending
because everything was so flawless from that perfect beginning
but I guess we're mismatched puzzle pieces, we can no longer connect
so I'm left with your frog bag of memories, trying to dissect
electing for the memories to go and pass me like a car
but I can only throw my baseball of a heart so far,
and so far it really ***** but I guess it's for the better
and you'll always be a part of me, but no longer warm me like a sweater
and so far it really ***** but I guess it's for the better
things would be different if it was later that I met her

Pull your blanket above your head at night

and you might feel comfort in the dark.

-

I behold the abyss and am calmed.

-

The darkness ironically scares you,

you cannot help but think of the creatures.

-

I have walked with the Devil and was not alarmed.

-

Blood rushes to your head, you fear

what may come next and panic.

-

I see black only because I close my eyes

and welcome death.

-

You wonder why you get nothing you’ve asked for.

-

I wake up and wonder why I didn’t pass in the night,

allowing someone more suitable to be here.

-

You regard me with disfavor and hatred.

-

I barely glance at you to save what pity I have left.

-

You gaze into the darkness,

-

I Return The Stare.

knowing our luminous self
renders all else as commentary..
story is then recognized as story
and the facts in the morning paper
whatever their favor or disfavor
become simply a part of the story..

this recognition of our luminosity
is a gateway to freedom..
a gateway for which we have
searched..perhaps until this morning..
a gateway in plain sight..hidden only
by our immersion in story...

oh ache,
let me praise thee
let my voice rise
and in turn upraise thee
oh ache,
love in disfavor,
flung to the walls
of the heart's many chambers
you possess vision
like a dark pool that speaks
through the mouth of the vessel
in lifetimes or weeks
oh ache,
lost underwater,
wait a little longer
to breathe again.

She ordered the thief to dismiss

She walked on her toes

Trying to make no voice

She opened the door suddenly

She found the leader eavesdrop

She said suddenly without wait

"don't you feel with shame"

To listen secretly at the princess room"

, What will my majesty do?,

If I make him known"

The leader face got red

He hurried in his steps

She entered the room frown

And ordered the thief to get up

After she was closing the door

He said with great astonished

What did that smart deserve

To be paralyzed without movement?

What did that beauty give

To get worth to get harm?

She said "this is a long tale"

Began with a morning on a day

Our princess has a kind heart

She helped the weakness all needed

She walked on the market as she used

She found small boys cried

She wiped their tears and attended

Them to her suite to change their mood

They ate and washed

They felt with rest and get happy

She knew the worst act in the city

There were several boys getting unhappy

She asked and discovered the ugly

The bad witch woman did her magic

To have money to have the land

She hurried to the king to let him know

Her father show her his lover

That would make his heart grow

With green with love and do

The best for all men as a hope

And he will be more strong

As he might get a child

His kingdom will be known as good

Land  through the world and land"

The princess became very happy

She wanted her father to hear her story

To decrease the sadness of his town

She ordered the boy and try

To tell the king about the try

Of destroying his kingdom

By doing bad things and dull

When the boy swathe king's lover

He shouted suddenly "the scaremonger

This the witch that spreads the disfavor"

Pity the analysis of the vacuous fluffs
who groans and moans of being alone
they, a bigger picture never for contemplation
only the narrow aspects of the lesser anodynes
ask, who is alone with real family around and afar

who does withers from betrayal planned with intent
or pines the contrived fakers weaponizing fakery
creating ****** drama of which I have no part thereoff
them of little minds playing psyche warfare of sap runts
go find your absent fathers and mothers and get a life
go invest in anti-wrinkle potion coz you start withering at thirty

Pathetic makeshift souls raging in under-privileged looms
we do not share your misery cause we made hay in sunny times
to be envied cause we got things right is a privilege unsurpassed
to come from afar and achieve in chills and disfavor is a win
to show that you can hold on when tested still hold it all together
shames the slimy snakes and the rags who cannot prosper
save robbing, lying, cheating for they have no talents or graces
jealous losers with a wrecking ball full of their anger and bitterness
stained damaged irrelevant ivories uselessly playing out of tunes