Friedman's not a happy bunny,
'The next hundred years'
is not very funny nor is
it relevant to me, but it's
an interesting read if only
to feed the lines of this...
next..
...the States so he says,
will lead us in ways
we have yet to imagine
until Mexico rises taking back
what belongs to them, robots
and genes and Poland and teams
spreading out to look for new labour.

It is not a bright not a brave new tomorrow
not a light not left on and not a mother that
cries not in sorrow not in grief and not
for a belief that was stolen at childbirth,
for what it's worth,
not nothing for no one for the States
lost the union and the will to survive
dies.

We carry in our backs
the arrows from attacks by the big boys
with the crossbows
and that's how it goes.

I keep reading
feeding
on
words.

God bless the one who PRAYS
PRAISE the Lord's heavenly REIGN
RAIN on me, then warming RAYS
RAISE my soul to a higher PLANE

PLAIN and simple, he can HEAL
HE'LL save any sinner TOO
TO him, surrender yourself WHOLLY
HOLY father is for me and you


PRAYER

oh Lord, can you hear my PLEAS
PLEASE shelter me from the RAIN
REIGN over me with a watchful EYE
I long to make it to your domain

It has come into question
My love for the Croc
Whether it be in bare twinkle toes
Or with knee high socks

Rubber on rubber
From top end to sole
Soft spongy comfort
To take on the road

Yes they're here for the comfort
Not here for the speed
Certainly not for the fashion
If that's what you seek

You might have already guessed
That left long ago
Trying hard to impress
Those in the know

The older you get
The less that you care
Hence my love for the Croc
And fur underwear

But back to my Crocs
Like it or not
It's all that I wear
They're all that I've got

Ask me which style
That I mostly own
(Inquiring minds want to know)
I'd have to say
Why, "The Original"

It's streamlined to date
With the perfect number of holes
I even wear them on dates
These Crocs got it going on

So let me be the first
To let you all in on this
My love for Crocs
Is just what it is

Be it in the bare feet
Or with paisley socks
You need to get over it
Cause I love my Crocs

This is some journey

Oh boy!
this is some journey for me
Eating poetry, looking at you,
I had no other choice but
to bow to the porcelain queen.
Some words take longer to ******* in the mind
To reach your bliss point, so know your happiness.
Certain insects are edible. But some words
are non-edible, for our inner creative force.

Some of my thoughts may be in my fingers,
From the time I woke up in the morning
my spoken words stay within my head
They are not offensive; however they might make someone
Somewhere, someplace broke a glass into diamonds

I beg you
don't leave the sky

when dark clouds billow in the south
the weary winged hurry home

overhead on the dead blue
jupiter and venus are born anew

the wind slows to silence
trees loom night's shadowy ghost

nocturnal birds sing on their new day
you feel your breath as they fall

the clouds spread across the sky
cracked by the lightning

a drop lands on your stretched palm
soothes all the burns in you

you melt in love
by the torrents falling from above.

don't leave for shelter
I beg you
when heaven arrives here.