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Blue zoo hue true through due stew brew flue crew boo to you grew jew new ooh poo rue sue shoe

Pain stain bane rain Cain feign sane train brain lane main inane grain

Gold bold sold mold scold cold doled fold foaled hold rolled

Feel seal real deal meal keel heal heel kneel wheel zeal steel steal peal peel

Melt felt belt dealt knelt pelt welt

Pent mint sent rent lent vent bent went dent gent glint spent tent rent

House louse blouse

Curt shirt

Bridge ridge

Pocket rocket socket walk it

Crank dank frank hank rank stank bank tank yank blank sank

Tout pout rout route lout bout clout doubt shout scout

Knoll shoal foal bowl coal dole mole whole hole roll soul toll pole

Bust rust dust crust lust fussed just must combust trust

Lewd dude sued rude crude booed aptitude mood food *******

Fort sort court report tort port quart consort contort retort cohort cavort snort

Maid raid jade laid paid ***** obeyed aid made weighed evade parade afraid glade

Ounce pounce trounce bounce

Porch torch scorch

Flounder rounder

Trace face race lace ace brace case pace waist waste

****** haunch paunch launch

Long song gong **** wrong strong tong belong

Fast mast past vast crass glass brass last aghast hast

Gulch mulch

Survive alive hive rive jive live strive

Twirl whorl curl hurl furl burl girl pearl rural whirl

Flaunt taunt haunt daunt vaunt

Hoot moot loot boot toot shoot cute jute root suit newt

Weep seep steep keep heap deep creep leap beep jeep reap

Hide side abide bride died guide lied glide bide vied wide ride tide slide

Serene ravine green gene careen obscene demean

River quiver flivver giver liver

Fin pin sin men tin wren Zen

Bought naught fought caught ought distraught drought

Meld weld held gelled knelled quelled emerald withheld

Left heft deft

Verve swerve curve

String thing bring sing king ping ring wing sting ding

Boon soon moon tune loon **** noon rune croon

Knave grave brave rave save wave crave pave
Combating poetic writers block
Said the sea to the shore “you don’t love me anymore
All the good times seem like long forgotten chores
While sunshine ***** my waters making rain
I’ll visit other shores where I have lain
Make trees and grass and flowers grow again
Make harmony with clouds the sky I lend
Yet your sandy walk I will forever tend
Though you forget it’s time itself I bend”

Said the shore to the sea “you truly take me wrong
We will touch throughout eternity in song
Though moonlight is the mate for which I long
We’ll touch your tides like members of your tong
Make swirling currents beautiful and strong
For time is but the mask where we belong”

Said the sea to the shore “take comfort in my lust
For I turn even iron and steel to rust
Like the oceans of night’s sky I will remain
To touch your soul with yet a new refrain
That we may yet be lovers once again”
Inspired by a youtube clip "the sea and the shore" featuring John Fullbright

https://youtu.be/5mdl6bcwG18
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance.
Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique.
What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion.
Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression.
We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms.
There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all.
We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural.
Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate.
Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success.
The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race.
How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’.
So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for.
Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism.
It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism.
Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights.
This is mandate.
The republic for which we stand.
Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us.
The notorious they-ness in them

Indentured servant sails, serendipity servant serenades.

Down here at the bizarre bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugue, estranged ensemble orchestrations and all.  Some of us are even into the various assorted forms of related stranger weirdness and all the rest of those similar states of analogous configuration and ancillary subordinateness.   Vicarious recalcitrance for all!!!  Eclectic synectics, avant-garde illuminism.
What was it that caused physicality to become out of endless void and inky blackness and are we merely a bi-product of its residual harmonic vibration's resilience or do we embody the nature of its kinetic supremacy?  Is intellectual sentience actually the catalyst for the evolution of God or are we merely ephemeral splendor?
Opaque opulence!!
where love is,
everything of my heart,
the earth breathes in
deep sorrows or red,
moving like a winter
cloud, burning ashes
like moods, sweeter
than the yellow roses
of autumn.
drift into me, sink into me
until i am a rose of the sky.
 Nov 2019 CK Baker
Sue Collins
The constant cacophony, the needles in all sensitive places, the rush to get to the end for no reason.
The give and take between strangers, the screaming sirens, the specious silence of the app world.
The rescheduling of schedules, the tweets fast and furious, the world spinning off its axis in disgust.

I sit on the step for a few minutes, watching the multicolored spider weaving like an ancient woman.
A bird of paradise colorfully waves at me. An elderly man bends over to talk to his also elderly dog.
A man tunes his piano from an open window. The waves of sunset begin. I calmly go back inside.
 Nov 2019 CK Baker
Sue Collins
The point man was found sleeping next to the fossil remains and the ash from eons-old fires and brimstone.
That’s the doomsday part of it, that and the enraged clouds full of sound and fury ready to go to battle.

No tolling of bells, no backup troops come to save the day. Just whirlwinds and spiraling leaves as he sleeps.
The man surely had a point, didn’t he? Why bother to stay awake when we all know that it’s a facade?
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