2 parents have 3 daughters. Each sister has 1 brother. So, how many sons do the 2 parents of the 3 daughters have?

My premiere deduction was, he deceived with each
Word, that cold-hearted viper, with poisonous zeal
Looking sidelong to observe the mechanics of his deed
On my life, and lips that slander scarce fit to conceal
A forked tongue behind fangs no less infamous or real
Than the impish minions which follow Mephistopheles.

What else might he be primed to strike with his cadre?
What, barring to ambush with his lies, or set upon any
Traveler who  may take notice to his presence that day
Upon the deserted road? I gathered what evil cackle
Would uproar, which staff  shall pen my last will,
For entertainment in the arenose, unclean witch's cave.

I once did have an entourage, I once had social affections for them, that was in my younger years, in those blessed days before the forfeiture of my smiles; but now, now all are of  the vanished type, each face has
dissolved from memory.

And long ago I abandoned laughter, I abandoned Joy, or rather they both abandoned me when I became ill of mind, and too caught up in my woes to see the hurt that I caused my companions with these my selfish ways,
which desired solitude.

You see, I  valued a Love once- in my way-and I put her before all the world, before all of you -my dearest friends.
I lost nearly all of myself that day, the day I whispered to her softly that  I loved her more than any other, and I did -rather so.

But, as my love for her grew into obsession, I was unaware
of what I was giving up -what I was becoming! I was becoming less of me, and more of her, more of that beast that hid beneath skin deep beauty.

My thoughts those dreary days would begin to whirl, my heart would race, as my
patience for humanity would come to an end; and as my nails turned to claws, my skin to scales, my teeth now fangs! I then, and only then, realized what I became - but I could not for the life of me change back into my old Self.

When the plainsong did ring, heavenly darling, and was in its infancy, while yet in young Tuscany the angels did sing, sing of mortal passions round the immortal ring, ring of the Muse's mind so magical... Celebrating, quivering, wondering, raging; and then possessed by slow degrees, they felt the world's undoing -and then its rebirth in so doing. These minds of which I speak, feel the glow now of all lesser beings, beings aroused, refined, intoxicated: till once, when all were filled to brimming with fury and inspiration, from each supporting pillar these angels drew mortal breath, so bated, wherewithal Chaos ruled the night. Yes, Chaos ruled the night -it cannot be overstated!

Go to Amazon and type in Jamie Cantore. All of my titles will appear. My latest book Poems Of Expression Revised Version Of A Bit Of My Poetry is available on Amazon for free until May 15th.

Therefore walk the walk when you talk the talk. Have no enemy but Satan -Love thy neighbor!

Two identical vehicles impact head on in a collision where both vehicles were traveling at 70 MPH. This impact is equivalent to 1 car hitting a concrete wall at what speed?

I remember the first time we met
It was a night I never will forget
I politely asked you if I was the
One you wanted or really needed

In telling me you proceeded...

I need some time
To think it over.
It will be just fine
Come October.

The days progressed
And so did we
Love became you
As did it for me

And in telling me you conceded...

I need no time
To think it over
Everything is just fine
It is October.



But problems arose as
Will happen
We drifted apart
And you asked what would
Happen

And I responded then...

I need some time to think it over
"Maybe" it will be just fine
Come October.

The winter of 1885 was inhospitable and   u
                                                              ­                     n
                                                               ­                  r
                                                               ­                     e
                                          ­                                             f
                                                               ­                             i
                                  ­                                                        n
                                                               ­                           e
                                                               ­                      d
                                                           ­                    e    
                                                           ­                 i      
..and in the blah unihabitated lands I  d

                                                           ­             
  ....with only God The Father by my s
                                                               ­       i
                                                        ­                 d
                                                               ­              e
                                                           ­             m
                                                  ­                    i
......And now I reside in the midst of T
              
                                                                ­            
  ...my poetical device in a brilliant r
                                                               ­     h
                                                          ­             y
                                                               ­            m
                                                               ­                e              
                                             ­                            n
                                                               ­      i    
      ....is soon to be realized line by l

What lingers, is invisible, and is sometimes silent as it is expressed?

Could I,
                   Should I,
                                               Would I...
Pick this tiny rose for thee?
Take a life to see you fulfilled?
Clip the thorns so that
No blood will seep?
Watch it live a while and
Quickly wilt?

Could I,
                     Should I,
                                              Would I?
I can,
                         I shall,
                                                   I will!

This is the place of love gone dormant for the sake of sanity;
Exiles from the hearths of home and kin's polite society.
The caravan of broken sleep/dreams file past the border,
And leave the world alone to hash out it's social order.

The loneliness of the frozen plains stretches and wearies
The hazy eyes of the dreamscape denizens in 1010 series.
The poverty of beggared imagination lies dark in the soul,
And I know too well the losing of what once did console:

Embraces, tender touches, guileless looks and intimacy,
Eyes that touch upon the music of the stars glowing;
And yet more is there you may have ceased knowing...
Merging as one by the fires beneath the mantelpiece.

My heart has been made harder,
that ***** of mine which I had to barter,
that part of me that at a time had been an
inviolable origin of gentle utterance,
reflecting bright moving points of light divine,
and made of true substance.

But in ev'ry sense I am one who has become most poor.
Without a home, without a cent, alive in Him, yet dead to her.

Depart, sweet rose -
inform her that hast her hours and me, that somehow she knows, when I compare her to thee, how lovely and darling she seems to be.

Inform her that is young, and shy's to have her sweets espied, that hadst thou sprung in lands where no men abide, thou must have unsung died.

Little is the worth of graces from the sun retired: allow her come forth, allow herself to be desired, and not rise so to be admired.

Then fade - that she the known destiny of all that's rare may see in thee; how tiny a grain of time they share that are so vastly dear and fair!

Thy conscience ofttimes estimates
       Itself by itself midst dark logics
             Of the old slate-grey slate of slates.
             I am no creature of "chaotics"
Desiring to pry into dry changeable ways.

Fade slowly into that quietude,
   That lonely but desired emptiness.
Be fainter than faint in solitude;
And accompany Misery at high interest--
A use of usury that leaves many dues.

Now come haunting thoughts of Oblivion,
Not a one canst I undo at all without your
Granting; and I cannot move with any idiom
Anything if you stall to so wish it or implore--
Because it is not mine, nor is it my decision.

Toxicants pumping thru my vital fluid red,
Sooner rather than later I may be dead;
And I whisper to the darkest sea;
And I whisper to the darkest Lea;
And I'd whisper this to thee...

I love you in that fashion,
I love you with mad passion:
But, too soon, I became dead.

Deny thyself any such loving touch I giv'st,
Upon thy neck, upon thy bust, thy lips-
For if thy ever doubting trust has soared
Into the obscure, Oh! a most just reward
For my actions, then I must account
For this and more, for, I am thus bound
To these backlashes which I must endure
In these days of no fair love, this shut door;
Which I admit aquit me not of Lust before;  
And days know thereof, evil once did line
Within me then, now exposed; once within,
Always with. Fair enough, I admit my sin!

"To err is human; to forgive, divine."

A person with a virtuous soul, whose faultless heart is unchained

from any  corrupt musings  of  excessive pride: one whose soundless

years in safe triumph are lived, whom aims cannot deceive, nor

misery unnerve: that virtuous  soul needs not a shield of steel to

defend, nor keep secret thoughts within. They do not merely stare

thru tearful eyes at the tragedy of this our world's thirst, but rather

they no less than dare to provide what is necessary to end it.

So be to thee most fair, fair muses,
Thou flawless, ardent, goodly muses,
The age of poets did not for itself go.
Muses fair, fair most thee to be so.

In thine bewildered mind, thou art as peerless as the bluest sky,
For great works of art have yet to transcend thy fairness, thy bliss.
Could thee be sent as thy true love with everlasting tenderness?
Your sole desire should end with me, for it is you on which I rely.

Never again should doubt arise from the depths of thine own mind,
That this could and shall be ours to hold true with great elation.
Art thou not content with what I hath provided without cessation?
Thou art truly stunning by day, by night, being undeniably divine.

Not for all eternity
Will sadness streak my cheek
Or curve me with a sightless weight
That bows my kneecaps weak.

Nor evermore shall I mourn
A departure so abrupt,
A constant fixture in my world
From it, so sudden plucked.

Even all time, so short and long
I dare not wish nor pine
Each blessed day that passes by
Each night would ease my mind.

But for a lasting moment
Each smile, each laugh, each breath
The memories shall hold me now
No longer left bereft.

Should love spring also with Spring!?
Here birds and herds art all so whisp'ring;
O* all recall the bliss that thee Bliss brings!
Dale and combe, do entertain, o'erdue regales;
Sweet pipings piped twain boon nightingales;
Here a throng hears; here a throng sings.
A-strutting didst he; a ditzy strutter e'er go.
Gone so long•each to each•  is each woe,
O what if ten -steal gentle,* O Woodruff!?
What if ten by hundred do so flee to steal away,
Lest the sadness's of Winter's existence thee allay,
SO would an woodland rill still rill all it could've?

How kind & lovely dost thou build shame
Which, like rot lies in the aromal petal
Doth see the allure of thy flowering name
Yet, in a sweetness dost thou sin entail!
Thy lips do speak the romance of thy days,
Making immoral mention on thy sport,
One cannot criticize but in a type of rave;
Naming names confirms a sinister report.
Yet, in a heavenly house such vices willed,
Which for their residence chose them thee,
Where Beauty's shroud doth veil such filth
All things turn fair, (far as the eyes do see!)
Take care, fairest dearest, of this advantage;
The sharpest wits ill used loses their edge.

"What does a fish know about the water in which he swims?"

"Before God we are equally wise and equally foolish."

Do you believe in immortality? "No, and one life is enough for me."

"God always takes the simplest way."

"I do not believe in the God of Theology who rewards good and punishes evil."

"God does not care about our mathematical difficulties, He integrates empirically."

"God does not play dice."

"God may be subtle, but he isn't malicious."

"I cannot imagine a God who rewards and punishes the objects of His creation and is but a reflection of human frailty."

"I want to know God's thoughts... the rest are details."

"It was the experience of mystery-even if mixed with fear-that engendered religion."

"Morality is of the highest importance, but for us, not for God."

"My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior Spirit who reveals Himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind."

"When the solution is simple, God is answering."

"Whoever undertakes to set himself up as a judge of Truth and Knowledge is shipwrecked by the laughter of the gods."

"Science without religion is lame; religion without Science is blind."

More available upon request...

It makes much more sense now.
Please read Powerful Are Words

Do detest somber concepts brought forth by parturition to the thoughts you cannot otherwise declare untrue in the dark hour that is trapping you,
sealing you
in. Do not enter thy darkened
grave, for isolation amongst
those horribly innate constructs breeds involuntary cries
for days -brought on
by
perusal within. Do not encounter some cold cell, where creeping doom stalks and that black dog walks; there under stained obscene appearances,"unreal;"
and where low bred
mouths are speaking
falsely in lightless
arid lands so stale. But rather let the rejoicing wind that purifies
The dawn give lift to your courageously
resolute wing.
This is what it means
                     to belong
with one Self
to maintain.

Yea, in the vast river of Life withdrawn,
With echoing narrows amidst us thrown,
Circling the endless insipid Beyond,
We mere transient souls sail all alone.
Even the reefs feel the engulfing flow,
And so our boundless ends we must know.

O thou, Eternity, who in thy immeasurable rule
Doth set to Life Death's changeable effect;
Everlasting endlessness needs Time if
This measure's to measure true, yet
In time thru death, this eternity
Of life needs measures new.

I am in everything.
I am in nothing.
What am I?

According to what do you judge merit in a world where worth is in the judgment of the witness?

To
   wither, vanish, fade, and
diminish,
           dissolving in a glass
half
                     empty that forgets,
whilst
                   growing in Time's passage
and
                   e'er shrinking with age
-is to
                    wither, vanish, fade, and diminish.

Darling,
                    I heed thy cries as you feel blemished,
and
                       are becoming nearer to Death than to me,
because
                     I cannot see the petals for the rose ye be,
or
                at times sense what scents linger in your train
-as
                      you wither, vanish, fade, and diminish.

However,
                    in perfumed decay,
                               I watched you sustain your image,
and
                  persevere in a glass that I changed
out
                            and made half full, being so careful
when
                             putting you back in it:
but still
                             you wither, vanish, fade, and diminish.

The
                          day has come and you have gone away;
and
                          those familiar feel an agony
as
                           we display you finally
in
                           a heavenly vase, for
our
                     good intentioned and religious ceremony:
but
                      now I will now longer see you
-to
                       wither, vanish, fade, and diminish.

I am given to an unfamiliar direction, disturbed into one in need of sympathetic sorrow and affection, left to fall to ruin in a mode, a condition of the dejection -by the one whose tenderness once was, but by no thoughts is considered to be anymore. A shadowy ghost that was long ago and once before a primary source to my hearts little store, but to its succor she could not have been made to allot anymore; and by her own admission she never will put in again -for I have received well not a thing. Now, for this, my heart's made harder, that ***** of mine which I had to barter; that part of me that at a time had been an inviolable origin of gentle utterance, reflecting bright moving points of light divine and made of true substance: but in every sense, I am one who has become most poor. Without a home, without a cent; alive in Him, yet dead to her.

She does so give the go by, for the attention I once did hunger for. Yet

soon I shall indulge with spirit high, in the spirits of bluish red, which

made me merry in days before, that may have otherwise -consumed me,

in hatred, or sadness: but one day-I know not which-I may seek this

this very day with gladness overflowing, overflowing my clear glass which glints in

the lime-light, that she attempts to steal once more, and this too shall

pass, past my lips goes the grapes of wrath, which I myself do pour, a

reference to Revelation; and a gift from beyond Steinbeck's sepulcher.

Within the center of the lonely rill,
A sunset emerges, growing taller 'til
It appears closer to many, as I fill
Another glass, with sands ne'er still.

The night shall yet another day fordo,
But she loves him, and loves him true.
Ah, yet! I, Time, mustn't forget lonely you,
I must add age, and subtract youth

-Yet you will love me, love me true!

Post me fellow hp members your responses.
Mine is " I'm kicking my ***; do ya mind!??!" -Liar Liar
Well, one of my faves from Comedies.

Oft, in the tranquility of the night,
Ere the fetters of idleness bind me,
Tender thought of you bears a light
Of distant offbeat days that find me:
The tenderness expressed, the tears
Of young manhood's sluggish years;
The sound of lovely words so spoken;
The eyes that at that moment shone
Now eclipsed, obscured, and gone.
The gladsome hearts now broken!
Thus, in the tranquility of the night,
Ere the fetters of idleness bind me,
Sad thoughts of you bring no light
By melancholy days that find me.

The time that has perished by mine own doing in vain pursuit of wooing, in dreaming of issuing... the light which lies in womens eyes -I most guilty am. Guilty of pursuing; and all for what more than my self-undoing. All all but blind to my pickle, eschewing my darts a' shooting for their hearts, which from the start hath been made a little fickle.

I am fire, burning, burning for another chance at love.

Flighty lover, angel bright with colored light so warm, no other earthly creature has your harmony of form, nor could they nightly enter my haunting dreams-repeatedly reborn-as they hath tonight and every night since you didst leave me forlorn.

Yes, it seems my confident belief in thee was a fallacy, for you didst always intend to leave me as sad as one in mourning; your heartless ways being of a mystery tending to deceive.

You tell me in a distant voice annoying that you wish to come back to me, but in my hapless time of need, you once again would surely dissever our bond in the morning.

My Darling ne'er betrayed my faith,
But speak to me in whispers quaint
Did she; and hung her head as if
To say, “I love you so, but by dear Love I faint; and
Faint for thee, Love
—Forever and a day.” Then a day
Could ne'er be complete, but for pain. A pain we two felt when
Together we laid, in the hearts of Glee, In the eyes
Of saints…
Giving all that was taken
Back in spades! Black as
Pitch was my heart upon that day,
But ivory white twas she, without Stains —
In mine eye —but Death took her
Anyway.

To my surprise she smiled,
I was dismayed
As she rode with the
Shadows gayly
, Into Hades.
I saw the Jezebel for what she was,
I was for a fool played without
A just cause.