A Song for L Cohen

It's fun when praise is done. It's cold and razed when broken. Hallelujah. She rejoices in Jerusalem dress, gathers her Israeli hemmed forces; She's not seen the sun shine.

She paunches Markiplier the gamer and hears his night cries. Maybe her star numbers call us by name, courting with love, but all we've learned is how to quick draw ya.

Our proud Mother, her endless Voice, and every Hallelujah was breath drawing to shoot. We humbly exterminate the casted people, thrusting evil doves into us. A singing Harp in cheer. Hallelujah. Remember how we rhythmically move in us?

She hides in clouds, prepares a mountain with tear sprinkles and told me still when to till her verdant knoll. She feeds the caged bird and hears little crow howls cold and broken. Hallelujah. She rides the bucking horse; is not satisfied with a man's leg, and knows not victory in love's march.

We fear, hope, and grant merciful praises but live alone with a marbled Zion flag. Hallelujah! A high room walked with blessed Rapunzel. Baked peace, wants, and the best wheat on our lips.

She orders fast takeout, brokers deals, and cuts Samson's goldilocks, all from a mainland kitchen chair. She weaves snow wool from the falling ash, baths in moonlight and glows tawny from quickdraw fire. She weatherproofs our faith with winter's bite. And sends fourth, preaches fifth, exhales minor and lifts major -- A baffled Queen commanding.

She and Jacob wages in jurisprudence but we can't pay the music bills, can we? She did no one but keeps a secret progression that leads to Lehman's judgement. Hallelujah.

Lehman's Medicine Song

I lose nothing
as She herds

in fecund fields
filling our Cantina

with refreshing milk.
Our screen rates
are set right
by Mos Eisley!

In the Valley
of dark ****
I'm not afraid
because Obi Wan
is with me.
Your team and
our team help
cheer me up!

First we Feast
on movable tables
frontin Death wings.
Don't touch eyes
or brush heads
with anointed oils!

Click truly here
to follow kindness
and love me.
All my likes
are housed virtual
Forever!

Sir, we're looking for me? We know me?
Sir, we've distant data on me? Are we tired of me sitting and late waking too?
My ghost, bugs, and Sir, weirding way are all known to us.
Sir, we know everything.
We grab ***, squeeze ****, and put high finger on it
Such wrapturous goodness for me myself and I, but where?

In Crazy Horse Native Americans strip mall?
In ridding me of a brown heritage we desperately want to keep?

With every two drink minimum we are there Sir
With every bedding down in our laps we are there Sir

In ******* Dawn on Carefree wings
to lining our sitting Sea

Our hands, guided piercings
of me we are there Sir

We sleep in darkness sweet til
babbling Brooks wake us from snug slumber
When even Darth night shines with Gwendolyn's tomorrow
And inside my full belly, we stitch our patched life quilt
Of praise, amazement and montaged
secret places

We see Degas tattoos on milky body without form
without preconception

We count precious thoughts to fall
asleep in dark innocences, in stuck vengeance
only to wake with us, always with us

still

If only I could **** an atheist
to quench our tribal blood thirst

Our folly speaks evil
I hate those, who in folly hate us
I count them as us in the Game
of finding deep hurt and worried aunts

We hurl away insults to leave bare haters and me
eternally on a path to we

How many Dolls might be in the Valley?

Can you breath heavenly still
    so I can count top your holy hill?
It's just me come sightly so  
    working Charity back and fro
    my true badge of rite
Stitched across a tongue's bite
    a neighbor's door
    and between insults of a *****.
What vile eyes you say,
    but hey, don't fret, fear nor fray
    for whatever reason we surely
Can sew a new button for Suri's
    innocent nose and dust
    off the corruption to prove
    that I never wished to move.

Save me in Preservatives I trust
Something like vinegar or briny Word extending me
As an add-on to faint hearted lands spurting
blood offerings to the massive goodness flight

Bad airline brands are barely mentioned while
I fall pass small screen shots on back headed Seats
to our Heritage sure room

I find good advice under glass
blessed plumage from a Jurassic age
that guide our voice controlled nights

My right hand justice isn't interested in Absolute
but hopes with Mama heart and soul

Leave me outside the mechanized church
underneath our short coated lives to flash
Joy and her sister Faith
pleasuring our cheap tomorrow

A Song of Lehman

Me: Just listen to my reasoning.

David: Oh God.

Me: Continuing our daily conversation; listen, our poem is prayed from common mouths but does that make our rightness any more meaningful even if it comes from Kristen's Good Place?

David: I feel you. Microphone checking our heart: 1,2,1,2; what night is this? Nothing beats nothing.

Me: X-mouth, foh sure. Men at work? More tongues from your lips? I'm X-mouth, foh sure; far from a path of pathology!

Come on! Step in with me, or maybe I should step off to pass.

Call, listen, move; it's stay the same game, hear it? It's the same holler, it's the same collar. Feel our words?

Big mamma hands us a Thornton, makes us moan and cry, makes us mourners mourning against them others in the fields still fighting.

If I die David, would you save my single Odin eye, and leave her under the crow's wing to claim the hated dead around me?

David: Shuck our fat mouth and throw away that proud husk;

She stalks our steps now with fellen eyes, like a lion hidden, waiting to tear a byte us.

I say meet her half way, at least wake up and throw her a bone; maybe give her our life with a sword.

In my hands, my flesh, my men, my women of the world, we part our lives, part our flesh and fill them with treasures. We hide there. We happy children coming from and inheriting privilege places.

Me: Facetime me David. I would be so happy if we were right in our picture too!

Only fools believe in Abominable Snow
and no one does good broken hearted Man.

A Rock gazes upon pebbles looking four Silicon Gods
and no one does good on perverted side Sand.


Are we criminals or cannibals, eating on bread people
while calling post-X generation right?

Should we lie in Fear of stuff, Snow or rock
as we dip our tip and take winged flight?

O the Security of States win point
as only captive Joy and Jacob can rejoint.

Crazy for advice from an artificial seat of Intelligence
called Iiamd.

The way of Sinners.

Why not meditate on night, sun, and delights
of adjusted fruits, borne and evolved
by the side of the River.

Crazy.

Is this not the case?
Chaffs blovingly removed
in a Way from Us standing with sinners--
So Bad, not bad.

My Man he's one true or sinner
Wayward God knows the way.

Help Believers O righteous children,
but not in Vanity, a neighbor of trembling double lips
and proud vibrating tongues saying
Winners are our Lords.

We poor complaints with fiat money have yet to wake safely
sterilized seven times pure in a Central Bank's furnace.
This forever implemented generation is protected thus
from angry steps down both aisles of withered white men.

Should I put my trust in Bee lords still fleeing Soulbirds to a mountain hive?
Buzzing low for blow, a rope-a-dope act--wicked ploy to bend a heartbeat dive
up, straight to canvas still in robe wondering what went wrong.
Is the whites of my throne eye just a lid on Heaven's long
setting Sun?! Son, I reason, takes cruel violence but for love to hate,
a nasty trap is made of sliding rain and stone glass brimming a horrible fate
for April's face and Charity's mate.

Who's left holding lost remotes?

Too many devices for soul oats
seeded in poor soil and bad reviews, a stinging blessing
at wicked thoughts best. Pride turning on TV, caressing
for an absent Love out of sight and mind. For the Roosters, Fear.

Combs without waivers, thinking, I will be Cockmeister here
with cursing chicks and deceitful vanity, Evil errant.

Secret murders, and poor innocents wearing broken covenant,
lured to an ant-lion's nest, sliding down Banker's drawers into earning
crevices of Mr. Crouch, his curvaceous cushions hiding hard yearning.  

Say Love is forgotten with a hidden face, because we'll never see
with Chicken humility the forgotten Love given for free.

What kinda fried Chicken doesn't hate free Sauce you might ask?
There's the poor commitment's rub, an Assistant father taken to task.

Violate his wicked arm. Search the veins of evil's grime
until the forever King is found mysteriously without crime.

You've heard our heart headset's rumble,
Oppressed orphan's plea given most humble.

In my child and heart we raise
hard work and rejoice in praise

on dying back labor we fall
right into arm of Justice call

Forever screaming of little cheats,
new wicked name at our constant feats

of centered tatamat spirals,
of Sensei's sunflower petals

In my heart and child we seek
refuge in trying times reek

trusting in not u but us, women, woman,
to gender mine for blood estrus sand

hot to the crying mercy touch
hot to modesty tested too much

hating to death's stuffing mouth
hating a networks gone South

their tangled weaves hidden under
foot, forgot Hell's nation worker

a poor man's hope never cut down,
executed behind comment's frown

Put mercy's fear upon the nations
known to themselves as Lordy rations

Choir don't need no Gath Brooks

Lordie lord, spam that yawns across earth's lawn,
set your glory upon holy sky!
Baby talk, HA! That's processed Kraft
cheese or strength, babbling to silence avengers.
Do you see or does your finger point
to Moon, Stars and Kautempathkan.
What is a man that you can't remember,
Or a son who can't care of man?
You've made a name of nameless less.
Memhkotainya, name it with dignity.
Show some respect for the handywork,
they stare beneath our feet.
Bleating and mooing,
and Yes, beasts in field,
chicken ****, and fish,
sea lane routes
to Us, our way
Nobly in your ***** named.