It calls the two sling blade reapers back to form....morph into spirit animal.....finish before the oncoming storm.

So now I see the wicked witch lives in New York....she was asking bout a chump poem.

Man is this some lit class writing exercise for 100 students?  Are all the poets on here doing some social psych investigation.....yeah this site can make you feel crazy and actually sound it if you try to explain the theory to anyone else

Début was médiocre...Then started reaching for the stars....I got too hot for them so they sent me back down where here I'll reside I don't care won't frown.  Cuz you still let me write and though you may not want to you still read my lines.  I have one alter-ego .. Truth...how many do you have Elliot?  3,000,029

I see whole families of poets ....a traveling dad, a drunk absent mom, a self mutilating daughter, two other sisters and maybe a brother.  And they repeat ...some families black some families white some from Texas and others from New Jersey....funny how they don't write how they speak...I know accents and words and these folks are all cut from one pattern. Hmmmm

Have you ever seen the sun rise from the border of Utah and Wyoming. . west and south of Lyman?  I have....I know every fishing hole there is....trout galore!

I've come to the conclusion that there are only two poets on HP....me and Mr.York. Yo Eliot... hire some more poets.
Use that cake you ask for to fix the emojis and hire another staff of writer's...your multiple personality game is getting a wee bit lame

,??? Takes a lot of effort

More crazy mind connections....the same poets all liking each other are the only ones I see...same names...same topics same genderless identities same love preachers stuck in hell and darkness.

One being...million eyes... someone here as omniscient as omnipotent as God.  Now I'm completely lost...but do I have the years of life left to truly understand this book..it's a billion page novel and I still have to cook.

There's a magical trail up in Marin county....it runs from the coastal mountains down to the sea.  Many moons ago 15 ****** fools embarked on a journey to celebrate the coming union of my Berkeley hippie to his New York queen.

Yes this was his wish ..his bachelor party!  No broads, no **** and *** just 15 fools drinkin beer each with an ounce if grass...it was the best party one could have.

I fell behind....mesmerized by something that intrigued me....a Little yellow slug staring up at me.  So ugly it was beautiful...I studied as it slowly trudged across the trail.  The eyes the color the hypnotizing tail.  I wanted to pick it up and put it in my pocket...but this kind of beauty is meant for all to see.  So I spoke to the slug and said farewell...I love you so much I'll set you free.

It's been more than ten years but if I ever return....that banana slug will be looking for me.

I'll let you rest tonight...I'm sorry I ****** you off....but it was a little funny watching you blow that steam like Woody instead of being my cuddly bunny

My boy Steve from Palo Alto has this great boat....love to wake the Delta sometimes jump in and just float.  At night the scene gets creepy as we slowly motor home...looks like something out of Deliverance...a bayou, a fog creeps in the unknown

She told me to ******* but didn't block me....hmmm...What does that mean?

I've seen dwarves and elves and mean ol witches but I knew my eyes deceived me.  And if I thought these Ayes don't lie I'd blink then sleep then think again.  Tell me why you can believe someone something who's make believe versus flesh and blood and poured for thee.

And I'll still catch you if you fall....but my phone you'd have to call....don't worry if you can't fake a British accent...I'll forgive that "cheap lie" too

As long as she keeps loving poems that sound like she's thinking about me... I'll keep writing poems for her specifically

And the Limo gest keeps driving further and further, faster and faster away from ANu truth.  A maniacal little red bird driving fast.... real fast...in the hills of northern California.  And me on foot with my butterfly net trying to catch it.

You know

Up a hollow in the hills of the Angels....into hunter gatherer morphed. 'Neath the caverns of decomposed granite they bathe in the waning glory of Helios' eyes. Under Artemis' watch two reapers sling Kaiser blades in the full moonlight.  The matins harvest...tribute to the God and Goddess of light.  Tomorrow night the rest is ours!

I'll be at the edge of the Angeles National Forest, in Altadena right above Canon Street for the next two days.... come and get me death squad... I'll be waiting.  Just be ready for a fight.

I hate my memory but check this connection....Asher = Antony Uptown = lovely boy in love = Girl likes other poet's poems, start spending time with him = angry boy begins to feel abandoned tries to talk to girl who's showing her new attraction = angry begins to argue want to talk on phone =  pretty girl writes poem saying she logged out.  

Now angry boy is jealous and furious and reads all ancient poets words.  Angry tries to get old poet to IM as he pretends.  Old poet tells the crazy broad these poems aren't for her.  Angry boy can't get proof he needs of to prove to exgirlfriend" that new love is a liar, cheat and predator.   Meantime ancient Mariner and pretty girl begin to get hate messages and a "warning" of impending doom and hurt from Astral.  Old man and young Muse relate these weird messages to each other.  Mature man writes to Astral telling him step off.  Astral disappears and 24 hours later has filled "blood drained" pretty girl with lies making her believe old man only cheats and lust for more than her.  All of this in little more than 2 weeks of growing feelings and talking all night every night.  In weakened state she cannot see the sequence of events...nor motives for crushing her like this so she writes a players poem and begin to hate her friend.  Old man cannot comprehend how this whole tale unfolded until he projects again...he used his third eye to find the stories first page. Jealousy caused angry boy to create a scenario since he's lost her heart to old man...if I can't have her he can't either thinks angry boy.  plotting strategy to ruin old man's chances = knows unsure girl's fears = use these against her so he can't have her either = become ten women and create some crazy fiction to dethrone the champion of her hand.

Now I see motive for the lies to separate twin flame sensor.  I see an impossible timeline to be the womanizer I'm accused of being.  I see that the demise came about after the lies told to me meet with no response so Angry boy plays on her emotions to hopefully get regain....result is a good soul laying almost dead distraught destroyed and angry so into a shell she hides.  Everybody losses here my love...can't you see what I see.  Look at the timeframe to see the same movie and drama I can see.  But pretty girl won't even give okm man the time of day....I guess I must bow out...young Asher wins again.

Hahahahaha....I leave you to stratedgize your next moves my little troll pawns...you have two days as I harvest my wonderful Cali gold acres of orange, purple, og, Skywalker, master kush, blacklebubble, pineapple....hahaha.  think hards retards...or should I say ******!

The Queen will unleash both her lion and tiger on you meantime.  If there's any left when I get back, I'll finish off the bones and guts without cooking em....savoring the meal of nasty trolls

Share many commonalities.....
1. Love of a finely tailored suit
2. Ferocious brutality at the
    hands of mafiosos.
3. The finest gold, silver and
    gaudy jewelry
4. Love of finely created
    masterpieces for the head...
    i.e. a ****** pelt fedora
5. Control of a worldwide drug  
    trade and global politics
6.  Magical realism as normal life
7.  And my favorite.... phrases
     like..."I make him an offer, he  
     don't refuse" and the
     Colombian equivalent... "Plata
     o plomo"

Falling into every hole I dig for you...dumb *****!

Willing suspension of disbelief applies to fiction not accounts of truth.  Take the power back they've stolen from you Tiger...don't give it away to fools so easily.

Lies can't touch me directly....they lack the courage of their convictions and as someone special once told me... lies are easily identified..."they're too good to be true"...they are also "too ugly to be true" as in the
fools who claim to know your flesh all over campus.

Truth on the other hand can be so bright it might seem too good to be true.  Just as truth cuts so much deeper with it's shards than lies.....

Cerveza
Brew
Beer
Ale
Lager
Pilsner
Pale ale
India Pale Ale
Brown Ale
White
Wheat Ale
Malt liquor
Stout
Bock
Dopplebock
Triple Bock
Lambics....should I go on about beer.?

Death is running heels and hell follows with him

Have I become some verses on a page already or am I the next and final lover?  Your choice but you know my wishes.

Since "they" couldn't get to me directly, "they" decided to deal the low blow and destroy you to destroy me....don't let them!  Show them the lion rules the jungle not a bunch of silly monkeys, horses *****, and laughing hyenas.  Roar woman and scatter the miserable life that has crawled out from beneath the dung beetle's nest to foment hate and spread nasty disease

I cry all night and sleep all day since you withdrew your love.  I can accept that if you promise to start Loving yourself.

Lord spare the young and innocent please... take me instead for I have lived a full and blessed life and should be made to pay for my sins before the one whose listless body lies prone now. Breath life into those wheezing lungs and pour me the cup that is now before her.  Hear me God, hear me please and I shall cease my Blasphemy and place my soul in your hands...take me not her.

The hand exhausted me.

Because we're both in a hell a shallow dim flame each running from ourselves. To reach heaven we need but meld and fly through all our self loathing, and insecurities loving each other's imperfections to the point of spontaneous combustion.

Quit writing ******* hand...no one cares what you have to say.

Even without the master painting that God made your sweet face....I still float hopelessly lost in your ocean so profound.... love so hard I drown.

Lay beside me ....relax and close your grey-blue eyes.... fingers teasing your golden hair so lightly as warm breaths roll from your wholesome ear down to your neck and nape.  Lost am i in your hills and valleys where my language speak is golden tongue.  Seeking refuge in your cave of love, languishing lapping sipping from the sweet sweat your womb exudes.

Do you wanna take a bath?



©Pink Floyd

Some reader's leave a ****** trail of broken poets ...along the way collecting tiny pieces of each to Frankenstein their perfect ONE!

Yo Merc...where the crap u b?  Gots all kinds of notes to be delivered.. special delivery ciphers...no one else can see.  Some have numbers others just one name, they're all important so hurry just the same

The gnarliest roller coaster ride I've had the displeasure to puke on is HP....One has only to read a poet from debut to see the highs the lows, the curves the blows, the pace it slows, to be scared shitless enough to get back in line and ride again.

Sabiki rig catch bait
Bubbles in pail keep
chove from fate.

Bust the rod
take the jetty.
Nose hook toss
Release the bail.

Sink then taut
Touch and go
Feel, hook, bought.

Halibut for Almondine
is what I caught

Fell in love with you, would you promise to be true. ..

Cold hard blue steel does not betray..."down to ride to the ****** end... Just me and my girlfriend"
© Tupac

Am I the good bad guy or the bad good guy?

*****..."you got noooo juice"

Que me entierren cantando!

What happened to "you can ring my bell, ring my bell....dingalingaling"

©Anita Ward

A God