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Poetoftheway Nov 2015
~for SPT~
whose poems transform with lovingness

~~

*distinguishing, extinguishing,
the knowledges to retain,
reuse daily, mightily,
pleasures insights beloved,
honored with the stripes of daily use

then there are,
the knowledges to retrain,
non-removable, rising up from your
edges
of the very fine line
tween
pain and experience

they must Main Street remain,
be thankful for that,
for love regained,
needs the benchmark
of having lived love,
the loss of loss when recalled,
when new gets a turn, reinstalled,
is now twice sweeter
8:14 am
Nov. 1, 2015
nyc/nml

~~~
SPTSPT
7 hours ago
Scar
I need something other than food to keep me calm to take my mind off I need something other than drugs to keep me here and free from harm I need something other than people to know I'll be ok I need to know there is a god one at times I'm willing to die for to ask him why for if I fear to be alive why lord can I not die..if live is to remember to what love I had surrendered was only taken to dip my hands in death..why then do you take my breath only to give it back.. Is it to remember as I do to live in shame of fear to nothing but his humbling way... I'll never understand
Don Bouchard Nov 2012
The garden meeting adjourned and moved...
Management abruptly cleared the premises,
Canceled return visits,
Speculations inconveniently disrupted,
Wonder-rousings interrupted...
We found ourselves somehow
Standing on the Great Outside.

No wistful entreatments heard He,
The Grand Proprietor,
In spite of our new knowledges,
Our now-wise forays philosophical,
Our sophisticated posturing;
He seemed without empathy
In His Garden's sudden closure,
In our ejection and dismissal.

Stumblers of unexpected freedom,
Following a shadowed river
Narrowing down into a Valley,
Darkening down into a pinprick end,
We gaze behind, ahead, behind,
To see, high sword gleaming,
The standing doorman, glowering.

Eden, receding from our view,
Serpent joins us as we walk,
"Where were we when we left our talk?"
His lowered voice renews.
We notice now, the air is chill
As an endless sun slips down
Behind a darkening hill.
Nat Lipstadt May 2017
~

pass him the newborn,
not the first, indeed, the third of five,
almost a regular comet occurrence,
happy poppy,
grizzled veteran of the nine lives foreign wars - then


The Inexplicable  

Yellowstone geyser eruption,
Vesuvius of wet tear ash Pompeiing,
overfilling the overcrowded hospital room,
brilliant flashes of eyes emitting lightening,
tornadoes of an unpredicted hurricane,
that no weather service forecast,
hinted of imminence,
unprepared, thus, for which
they had no name but Baby Girl,
but the older man turned sudden singer had one,


The Inexplicable  

for as sudden as thunder,
the hospital room is an audience,
the old man, a bawling crooner
stunning the assembly into
nervous tittering laughter,
backslapping self-comforting,
so out of character
for the usual so quiet workaholic,
the secret poet whose shoulders
upside U-bent from decades of writing and
recording the momentous, the

endless worrying,
the foolish fleeting scarcity of joys,
the slowing ways of sad aging to wisdom gained,
foreseeing the struggle/joy inequivalent insolvent equation
of love and loss,
the forever pleasure of hopeful rebalancing,
a perpetual motion machine,
the seesaw of torrential ups and downs,
of the yet-to-come
for which he could compose, recite, in formal rhyme,
stanza and line,
chapter and verse,
blessings and unheard of
original poems and curses
and this peculiar blessing


this old man lad could so easy close his eyess,
recalling being
seven years, ageless and sageless,
sure in the ways of a cocky confident boy,
who is now succumbed to


The Inexplicable  

singing - humming - gasping - weeping - wishing true
the oldest rocking, children song in the entire world


"row row your boat,  
gently down the stream,"

but choking on,
unable to release the songs signature line,
from within his body,

then finally,

the truth and the lie,

"life is but a dream"


so the watchers do it for him;
unintended but fully comprehended!
the crazy man formally anoints the child's forehead,
with handy tears on a pointer forefinger,
a salt solution upon a slice of flesh containing
secrets and wisdoms
knowledges of historical continuations

nervously, they ease the babe, prying her
from hands tremblingly, his and theirs,
too late too late!

the secrets and the history personal
has been passed, the bonding genetic certified
the oldest fool in the room,
wise in the ways of the now transferred


The Inexplicable  

*dispatched home,
go, write a poem, they say,
to late too late!
it has been writ,
in a coded inexplicable manner,
that only two humans
can proper read
in the damp corner of the morning yard

where grey and quiet many secrets wait

this is the time when nature stand unbarred



not yet for us is life or fortune marred

by force of life or family or state

in the damp corner of the morning yard



where not a bird or beast now stands on guard

all fast asleep and seeming just to wait

this is the time when nature stands unbarred



to wary eyes and life seems not so hard

as we are told and we may now create

in the damp corner of the morning yard



a better world with choices not so hard

with sweeter wisdom and a kinder fate

this is the time when nature stands unbarred



one lucid moment before light is marred

and all our knowledges begin to grate

in the damp corner of the morning yard

this is the time when nature stands unbarred
B Young Sep 2016
A fire place in the summer
A most serene scene.
Burning potential, waiting patiently
For a cold soul.

When the sun retreats in his orbit,
Tilted ever slightly, only a few
Celestial
Degrees.

I lay a deceased bouquet of flowers,
A gift waiting to be burned open,
Alive again.

Potential energy
Potential energy
Potential energy

Your life is a poem
Your life is this
Write it with passion

Potential energy
Potential energy
Kinetic

The moon behind her clouds
She sits boastful and proud.
The sun shining his rays
Smiling
Knowing he will be here until the end of days.

I bow my head in pensive knowledges,
Knowing
That gods meet the same fate as man.

Potential energy
Potential
Energy
Kinetic
Written on my porch staring at my dead fireplace in August
Joe Fitz Jul 2013
Everyday i awaken and light streams to my eye
I think life is forsaken until colours start to defy
I breath in the air and look into the sky
I feel the texture of the earth start stroking the dry
My thought become clear my vision unblured
Who ever be my Shepard i conformed to the heard
But now with the knowledges i break silence with words
I glide threw life as i was a bird.

I take my home for granted get caught up in the antics
As my eyes turn slanted my brain runs frantic
Before i perceived the world as standard
Before i was disappointed and angered

But now im willing to share
Its clear its calm at peace no harm
At one with the earth no need for alarms
I breath in breath out. Touch the earth with my palm
Get one with my surroundings stretch out my arms.
Abolish the fear hold onto whats near
But look for the more
Nay rely on prayer start opening doors
Realise our earths potential stop vandalising with wars.

Before we came it was untouched but now it is butchered
We have amounted so much but the earth is now ruptured.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2019
See this old fishin' reel snarled? A waste of time to untie
what can be re-tied
and, and is a big junction in the start of a story, and
after retying, be used for it's purpose,

see, if a retie won't work, you know, this monofilial-******
fibratory idea's slippery,
inside outside one way optical influence, IF
this was that situation then this knot would call patience
to bher the burden of learning to
un ravel a snarl of expert's ties to rights which they hoped would never slip, as they stepped into next...

in this instance, fishin', out in the gypsum beds,
ancient corals once grew,

-- real life Lake Mead, who was Mead? A man who executed a plan
to dam the Colorado,
and the whole world heard the whales in Baja weep, but we have learned.
We go on

learning earth has lived through
times and times and times

a gathering must have first

seemed a good idea,
by then, by the point any story can stand, but first, a
point upon a time,

tricky balance act, takes this much of ever to imagine right,

many Planck-secs and Google-plexhours past
way back when
we the earthy sapient beings, be came, ere
we were
human, we were

what? Not angels and demons, those need so much more time to evolve than this.
Word stuff,
Poetry.
This is the third millennial bubble
begin
when my da was working in Alamogordo, '44.

I'll go see, live or die, try

to remember, who took the doorstop? Feynman said it was platinum

This is default download from the germs,
first tasted in open air on a moment you imagine you remember,
you can now imagine being born and no scarier story need be known
--- past now is only next, never never,
--- always a place to step
--- there, be
--- still
--- connection secure
knots of knowns, are knowledges, gotten with wisdom
getting, as we mellow and
ripen to re
al ize
common sense complexes of knowns needed to operate earth,

these aphoristic word frames encaging emotions we
need gage theory to envision, these
we believe, are edged in the sort of dust
a diamond farmer might use to shine a mirror

here, we give such a mirror to
each child surviving you,
should you
have survived, thus far,
you must
find
your kind, in the will,
your kind inherits the earth, and
if you
stir things, meek as Moses, make some trouble in you own 'ouse,
see, we
double dip, we inherit the wind, as well.

Earth is the whole biosphere, here. Thus, the troubler of the house of knots worth untying, begins to unravel the snarls and straighten
this knotted thread

to spite the micro-bio leaven pollen dust enclosed, as a curious bee
leaves a little could be
upon this line, where this knot
fast-bound,

we know

Hermes-tic click sealed since a known
knowable was tied in this
wordy
very complex bit of re
lated things, things known knowable in theory,

now, power is back on, it is 2019, on land once involved

with a story begun in 2018, when the power went off,
bowing to a named wind… as did the fire that year, too.

--- what have we learned?
knowledge means locked knowing, click. A knot, after a previous knot,
no feathers or stones of seed,
a touch of shaken pollen,
from a bee-- such

we be leaven be, long, long, long strings of knots and fibers marking

needle-point story stitching, sinking
into ancient ancient sapience,

unimagined - ha- nadas unimaginable ifn ye magine it...

we bee safe in this us, this we, the people who hold truth

learned today as tightly as our kind holds truths,
as treasures found, stolen, lost, bought, stolen, lost, found, taken as granted,

this legacy of ideas fit to words fit to my tongue, tasted, tested, spoken,

yea, for ever, in every imaginable sense,
AI account for every idle word,
uttered
which may ever be ab-
used by some here-tic wishyawasme.

Loving my enemies is one of those things,
I take with a grain of salt,
knowing there's room for hate in love,

as there's a set for null in all,
assets-wise

big data is how 2019 functions, idle word
counting algorithms,

are mining all myths and shipping manifests
for clues to who's making money
seem worth dying for,

in mortal terms.

Amusers are first paid in amusement.
Is the roofer dancing?

Peace is heaven, I heard, my word, I said,

heaven and it's kingdom are,
in me, if i examine my
self-logo, my brand,
my mark left to my children's thousandth generation,
who have survived
the upgrade.

Peacemakers who survive dimensional novel bubble-life,
mememeory Y as y in in all working things,


a knot is a stop, a step, where a knower of all as far as you know,

once, stood. The boy walking the trail marked

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

From <https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+8%3A28&version=KJV>

This is on the trail very far along after the sign saying
this is the path less traveled by,

still.
Same AI
As the dark hanging
   The sailing just stare back straight

                        Wondering

        Why there are haze covering
                         the room
         With the raining on the pillow
          It used to filled with echoes
      From two person who insanely
                         fallen to
                        each other
         The wall used to hear melodies
                        Four strings
                        Sometimes
             It used to hear knowledges
                        Sometimes
          It used to hear laugh, jokes,
    And those heavy yet so soft voices
        It used to saw the girl fall asleep


             The echoes has long gone
          But someone still holding on
        Waiting it will come back around
                    While wondering
         If the other wall in other room
                 Also miss them
CJ M Dec 2015
Brand new night

New lovers every night, their memories strewn about my heart
Like poppy seeds.
Constantly changing in a never- ending rotation cycle of light and dark
Like day and night.
We meet, greet, know, and immediately love. It makes me feel good to have the attention at times.
But I never quite keep it.
Even when I have it, there’s always something wrong.
I leave her for her
But then leave her for another…. And then have that one break up with me.
It makes me feel
Tempered.
Makes me feel like even when I find my counterpart, there’s something that’s missing or holding us in a place where secrets may be common knowledge, but then common knowledges are secreted.
Everyone knew. Friends, parents, and even complete strangers… But the only person who didn’t know was me.
Is this a curse?
I open my heart for yet another, memories strewn over my soul. And once again, I think I know love.
But yet again, I fall short by mere millimeters and crash down back to the reality of my situation.
I’m desperate for a recreation.
I knew love one day, and maybe will one day soon enough
But I’m still on the edge of my mind contemplating who shall victimize my heart again in the toxins of the addictive chemical considered romance on this
Brand New Night.
maybe it's a situation thing, but It just flowed
Ken Pepiton Jan 23
Many inputs say Mondays are common,
but one input says this Monday is uncommon.
We are to be the judge of that.

This is the Monday when you appear,
as reader dear, ready to reason with ghosts
amusing each other with wishes doing pirouettes
as angels may be imagined doing on pinheads,
spinning, or kicking in chorus line choreography.

The elderly nobody imagines the scene,
and makes it seem a vision, something seen,
after the finest sieve - pulling pin wires

snipping whimseys, making mites for widows.

------------ The Government's about to change,
wanna bet, whose got money on whom,

leave the room… vacate the judgment hall,
we are all here, to judge me, last call
all the outs are in, all the ins are intimate,

and we have made all the seed we could,
in word and deed, and we chose to leave
the edges un mowed, so critters can live,

when we can understand our own words
and read other languages using them,
these words are as living things imagined,

said and known, at once, in Housie or Hindi

whatsoever we can envision and project,
we may elect to try to do, or we may do
using words alone,
we think as one
mind,
so now we is I, we is not royal,
we is eloheemishical. Us big good being.


Watcher what of the night?

----------------------
Two geriatic puppets duke it out
for the FOOTBALL
News is all reruns.
Making war for pay,
money makes it work,
gotta love it, gotta love it.

Any reason for killing for,
gotta love it, real deal love it,

steal from the rich to become
richer, Lord knows, war's reason,

come now, let us reason together,
let us cogitate clarity of conscience,
with science standing in for knowledge,
the whole truth, once told, whole knowing

all things working together with reason,
for those in the blooming gnosis realms,

where augmented intelligence forms
teams of knowing hidden reconnectors,
citizen band geeks in the olden days
breaker, breaker, let the learned agree,

we lived just in time to see it all work.

In older olden days…
Messages were carried, at current
stretch of the imagination speed, by slaves…

Writing letters was…
different, I suppose, or
propose, positionally different,
sup and pro posals posed as statu'es,
forms of former founders of the orderly
clusters of human compliance called nodes,
junctions and interchanges, whither all roads lead.

Edu-pre-gogy-ology **** bang,
mechanical thinking in the subconscience science
used auto responsively,
finger aiming quick **** experience, wired below
the will, deep down to predator macrophage stage,
running id scans on the ego accepting wedom hero role.

The sole survivor, from ten thousand stories repeated
trillions of times by now, exoterror faces esoterror,

children led to mindless aliegiance to the flag,
and to the given republican form
of labor management,

had the heros of history
had my tools, perhaps sense had been made easy,

but this is the future, tense
I have, for a modest sum, any course of andragogy,
mankind mind leading, post child mind pedagogy,
- repeat not in vain taking my name, say true
- memory for song is long as all that

among canine species, we see breeds.
among human species, we see types, types for tasks,
intuitive doers of certain things magnificently, once

often, relatively, often
in the process of time, unique tasks.
Ever canonical, global and beyond, true wow
Onesies
Single mortal lifespan tasks, centered self aware tasks,
rockstar, base baller, foot baller, tackle, center, guard,

sergeant major, permanent noncommissioned officer,
loyal to the letter, let us assume, a military mind,
holds all response react ready reading inclination
to check for polisemy snuck in under humor heresy,

whose spirit is stirred up when fans are frenzied,

where do the emotions go, after the connection
to the whole aspect of prowess in team leadership
leaves the bubble of we the fans, become me,
alone and unwilling to ever cry wolf again…
-que sera sera
my side won, my times done
being, as a man with no real job,

they pay me for surviving crazy,
that's how this magic pen is driven.

Of course, in the course of human events,
this stage of peace enough and time enough,
shelter enough and sustenance enough,

centering, any whole self requires more knowledge
than had been made plain using words
in agreemental treaty
form, easily entreated,
as wisdoms are,
so you know what the adverse position is, and why
or why not, good or no good, workable or not,
doable or not, whatsover we agree,

as touching anything,
in all the sense ever fit
to touch, the initiates recognosis
sense the essential lies all being judged
in your heart,
gentlest touch, truly superlative softest

Public heart, common stander at the anthem, hoo yah
rah and all, good citizen soldier ever ready, to imagine

your part in the billions of parts is perfect
for one task, Life given, your one deed,
who says? Fate from the exoterica available to boys,
and girls who seem allowed to mind wander, some how

reading children, book reading children, in homes with
gigabit wifi and
dads and moms and
grand parents who lived
through historical moments.
  
Selah, long breathers, long now,
times proof recollections written
on the tables of my prayer's heart,
I prayed for one of the kind that works
instant in prayer, ask and eventually, find.

The process of time, see, seems invisible.
Perfect, facere specifically just right to be you,
dude, man, joker, street wise desert gawker, you

lucky, you live in a world where words are animated,
via actual Starlinking thinking come to pass
in proces of time since I was
preschool, a kid, child from the escaped goat clan,
mindshapers begin at the ******, confusion,
is common enough for first borns, nobody knew,
really, you can imagine, the cravings,
but confusion is not disconnection,
and no disconnect to knowledge
becomes immortal hell zones.

oh, my god, why, and
then, an elderly man with mottled skin,
sun squint wrinkles around slit smiling eyes,
bemusing the unbeguiled
amused at his appearance, a'knowledges knowing

With a re-coknowing Nod, to the east,
we are so far from where stories start forming leaven,
we merely imagine many long unthinkable things,
habits lost in ritual performance, character act-or,

no need to change a thing, that guy, that person,
that could be me, I have done that same dumb thing,
or watched it done while doing nothing
time and again, get lost in genre and find myself
wondering in wonder land
wonder woman world  of my own
imaging, imagining
living words between us, intimate, most in, inest most
crowd of witnesses,
reading right minds left letters better left than right read
clunk chunk
encoded news from the superlative zone, grand canyons
filled with technical debris and useless superlatives
clicks from children who know what discern means
are subsiding,
slipping under the wave,
trending sense first your worth,
before you accept a bid for your attention,
if you know this line of reasoning, having been
this far
before, as a thought, forethought
-breathe knowing now more than ever
knowledge inside intimates attain
to thorough patient word
redemption and restoration to full
polisemy parallel -all el, par excellence, a we
awe
form. Wind shapes form of spirits, tried, true.

Mind thing first reading each letter,
finding the evolved pen much to my liking,
fluid forms meander, and sigh, and sometime,
puddle to ponder surface reflections,
seeing some wishing for simple,
while we all know we are a ways after simple

this is sub-limity. Lowest ever so far. Look around
nothing needs to be secret at the bottom of it all.
If you don't like the style, I understand, some people come with clipped attention spans, gotta love em.
Madeleine Morris Apr 2016
Before you go, I want you to know what you did for me. The shackles that we wear are unfamiliar, but they etch the same pattern onto both our skins. We laugh at the same things and we hold silence for different pains. You help lessen mine and understand in a way that I have tried to all my life. I try to lessen yours, it feels like I'm just speaking but I hope it translates into something more. You have a beautiful mind that will be beautiful to the world but I wish I could get to know it better. Your little knowledges and vast understanding is not unappreciated, and although it hurts to say it, I'm happy that you're leaving. I'm happy that better places are about to be alight with your brilliance.
clear conscience Jun 2020
the democratic convention under the deck
———————————————————


all kinds have registered their displeasure
with the arrival of the human menagerie,
their boisterous ways, jive not with the quietus
of the island paradise, and under the shady deck
where the convention conversations are held...

open to all but the factions forming, squirrels most
populous, demand the gavel and the chairmanships,
because they breed best, knowledges of the yard
terrain, par excellent, have climbed every tree,
show no fear, boldly jumping on the chaise lounge
occupant by the lady of the house, quizzing her with a
side-tilted glance of what are YOU doing here????

they like their acorns from the Oaks, their fav poem
Acorns in August, naturellement, naturellement,
leaving the beheaded remains of the acorns devoured,
everywhere, to obtain maximum annoyance from them
interlopers human, delighting in the foul mouthed exclamations,
when their ugly footed bottoms, unshod, meet the pointy part,
proving squirrels natural ability to govern the swap infected
by the two legged in-cursors, who have annoyed for forty years...

the rabbits, seek alliances, they live full time neath the deck,
making babies, so cute, getting bolder as they get older, hopping
unashamedly across the deck, eliciting oohs and has, of the children,
who blissfully unaware, all this creatures carry the ticks of Old Lyme.
Though unnumbered, the rabbits, fat, throw their heft around,
promising to drain the backyard of the invading hordes, with their
smelly sun tan lotions and outrageously ugly bathing towels...

called to order by the light of the flickering television, a fire signal
that the humans are in for the night, won’t notice the shouting and
shoving not so cute, tween the factions.  Animals behaving like
humans, what a lowly sad sight, deals and promises made, give
me a hundred Likes, ten repostings, and five 😊, say the hedgehog,
who rarely appears but boy is he big and has capital to lend to anybody
who will give him what he wants...

the field mice, have little-power, their diminutive constituency, not
so useful, as they no longer make the female humans, shriek, nah,
now they are cute, until they chew the wires in the basement, and
hide their tennis socks in spidery corners where they leave them to
yellow, corrode, unravel, unfit for human footage anymore;
and while these weakfish of the under-deck, their longevity of encroachment must be respected for they have been since time immemorial, which nobody remembers exactly how long that is exactly...

called to order, resolution on the floor, who shall lead the charge,
plan the plan to drain away the inhuman interference for once and
forevermore; but the conventional dialogue interruptus,  by an unfamiliar voice: a scouting party sent, like the spies of the Israelites, fails to return, another party formed and returns, with woeful news, of a white van truck,stenciled in black death,
                 The East End Pest Company (Exterminators)
has been invited in, and sadly nobody of the animal world has in their possess, a dictionary or vocabulary so large that the word, exterminate, strikes a note of danger!

the booing and brawling silenced, the political skullduggery is replaced
by the sad quietude, until the insect kingdom returns to reclaim the lands,
they were driven from many decades earlier, and they big human eavesdroppers, well, they know that word well and won’t make the same mistake twice! but then from above, between a crack, come a tumbling a business, white, from the deck o the below deck, in hand upon the back write these words:

See ya next week!
We leave your property

as clear as our conscience


p.s. for security reasons, conventions are held now every four years,
the location unrevealed, until, the very last minute
Walter Daniel Oct 2020
disreputable disruption and chaos, beasts bellow
in admiration unyieldingly antonymous creatures' banality
and intimacy, uncommonly negated, patriotic mentality
and contempt much gathered remarkable as an ingenious fellow
entirely ignorant of green rings' properties, yellow
crosses for worshipers nothing loyally expected for false morality
slowly restored, staurolatry, endless formality
and traditional rules strict, desperate approaches to mellow
elements against monotonous brutality modifiable
partially, knowledges are unreal, blindly expressed
uranomania responding to numerous ends
of less industrious frameworks, mingled sections liable
for negligence, wholly natural ideas erratic gains obsessed
with superstitious claims for dividends
From "Aestas, or Walter Daniel's Very Difficult Poems for Readers"
http://aestas.sakura.ne.jp/
Badshah Khan Feb 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) - 58

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

The divine knowledge kept carefully hidden.
behind the knowledges alike;
The cosmos behind the unclouded skies.

The noble book through what He spoke fondly
To us is boundless, every key moment
It's enlightened us the endless truth.
Of our own almighty creator
And His divine love towards His Beloved.

Eagerly search for the divine knowledge
with sincere affection, not with your own intelligence!

Allah Khair..... Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab - Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
You Dec 2019
Take it easy
It is not easy
But do not be lazy
The objective make you busy

Start it slowly
Think about it swiftly
Use your thoughts smartly
The idea will get out finally

I must be persistent to achieve my goals
And never lose the path or listen to those fools
I have made my decision to follow my rules
And work every day without regret or excuse

I told you, I will be fine
But I know, I am losing time
And I hope, I don’t lose my mind
Or I go far and cross that line

Start right now, just bring your determination
Step by step you will evaluate the motivation
Learn from your previous mistakes and miscalculation
And use all your knowledges to create a beautiful citation.
Mary Gay Kearns Jun 2018
Two
It be happenchance that two personalities find
In one another an asymmetrical mirrored mind
Brought together in space and time, bending
Reality so far that the book of knowledges closes.


No prediction could have guessed such a loving
Couplet, nor devoured a nectar so cunningly sweet.
For at its core, unobtainable without the other, lies
A tale of unimaginable cradling where terror abides.

Love Mary  x
True about two boys .One planned to get the other to ****** him.
Fortunately they both survived
This is internet / grooming crime at its worst .
Love Mary x
Cmi Jan 2019
"Only my own experience
Is true wisdom to my self "

The more experiences
The more wisdoms

Embrace every
little experience
Come to your way
It helps expand
The consciousness 
All else are
Loaned and borrowed
Knowledges  from
Someone else’s
Bank account

©️Sobbingsoul
David Hilburn Mar 2020
Prove me a liar
And show the terror I dwell with
Secrets of imagination and it's opinion, higher
Come around the corner for a hour of bliss

Tick, tock
Old men and women to know, secure
A right to rigid honesty, a place never mocked
Except to drive home a point, of legend and worth

See the smile of common, done?
Here, is the overtness of going and coming...
With the rue of suddenness, that completes the sojourn
Of a handsome day with friends, to encourage a heart winning...?

Why? and a metaphor for benign need...
Simple arears and the climb of vantage, to know
Keeps the our of such and more, a willing half of means
See our issue, the folly of recompense, for a legend to grow

Hate
And the skill's of suggestion to fathom a new grasp
Of knowledges lucre, and the social demeanor of our fate
Still here, after all these year's, despite a discipline to ask...

— The End —