the argument of the universe, ends the life of youtube sensation, caleb



in the great saturn club rings on thursday october 1 2015m peter sargent and ted bundy

had a very strong argument which really was beginning to turn nasty, first ted ******* paul berenyi

and snatched greame thorne and adam walsh, making their earth bodies really shook up

you see greame thorne is me, brian allan from canberra and adam walsh is some young man who was

killed by the parramatta terrorist and peter sargent came up to ted bundy, and said, stop this, i mean

you should stop this, and ted said, i am slowing the earth down, so you will be good to mind your own business

but peter said, neh, i don’t want to let you win, you see my earth body is a cool boy, never to be killed, you

will never get us ted bundy, ted bundy grabbed peter by the arm saying, watch what you say, buddy, but peter

really wanted to slow down teds reign, because this is weird what the world has been going through since you died

first you made brian allan a crazy person by making him tie himself up in a toilet in mitchell, and can’t you see he is suffering

too much from that stupid mistake your ghost made him do and it was awful to push his next door neighbour brendan down as well,

brian really liked him, and me, you made me **** myself when i was having problems that you caused, and ted said, but you are

enjoying being a cool boy now, don’t jeopardise it, dude, but peter kept on yelling blaming him for all the suicides that happened like

anthony, the mentally ill christian, and barry loughton as well as mark jones, and i know these deaths were normal, but you are the reason why

they are dead, ted, and i hate what you are doing to brian allan from canberra lately, he likes watching his grandmas next life annie be with slim dusty

who is hayley, and me who is caleb, but you are trying to **** him, by making his old school chin patrick enright, in his mind, tease him in his mind

treating him like his family, by making him lose interest in things, and peter told ted, he hates what you are putting in brian’s mind, by killing off all the

old fogies one by one, you see brian’s aunty pam developed a cancer of the lung, giving her no energy, she never smokes, and peter told ted that

he hates dads dellusional ghost trying to make brian write and think evil things about his father, and peter said, you will never get my current earth body

he plays baseball and really enjoys being a youtube sensation, peter said to ted bundy, you see what you are doing is destroying the world, including

my beloved canberra, where i met brian and chris allan, who played cricket with me, and i hate how you are making brian tease his dad with the poor people

i know he doesn’t want to be a rich ****, but some of the situations were very dodgy, and i want you to let brian allan be a man, ya know, i know he still likes

cricket despite of what he tells people, and ted bundy, at about 7 on the 1st october, struck caleb from bratayley down, by grabbing his cool kid, and tying him up

on the sun with paul berenyi and adam walsh and greame thorne, and the way he did this, was grab peter sargent by the arm and say, you are no longer a youtube sensation

by grabbing you, i **** off your youtube sensation life caleb, and burn your cool kid in the sun, you see peter, there is no heaven, and there is no hell, you see if you are a

nice kid, i will, put you on the sun, ready to suffer in your next life, you’ll never know, peter, i might bring you back to hole in the wall canberra, in a poor neighbourhood

you see peter, i am destroying the life of crocus’s current earth body, by giving him sore feet, and keeping the cool kids away from him, like brattayley, i know that brian’s

grandmother on his mothers side is there as annie, and slim dusty is hayley, and if they return after the funeral of caleb, i have powers to take the cool kid off

these kids, ted bundy said, because, what i was doing on earth, was turning people off, showing the world their fresh legs, peter said, let us go, ted bundy, please let us go

i will never lose my reign, and your next life will certainly know it, peter sargent, peter said, i will make sure, you suffer, and ted said, think about it, brian allan wants to be famous and living in adelaide

but money is keeping him here in canberra ok, so you will never get what you want, while you have to understand, even the rich people who are seldom getting what they want

in theory, are being bashed or murdered, or maybe even both, this world isn’t good, and that is because of me, ted bundy said and caleb is suffering, as he doesn’t want to be *******

to the sun, he wants to be with bratayley, to live to be old, and ted bundy said heh heh heh heh we will make4 brian allan suffer as he wants to give greame thorne is wish of being famous

trying to beat ted bundy forcing his old mate patrick’s teasing voice out of his head forever, but what is happening ted is saying, let’s make brian’s school friends watch the professionals

and laugh at brian, yeah this sounds radically awesome said ted, granny is with slim dusty through annie and hayley, but because of caleb being snatched from there to be tied to the sun

will bratayley return, or will ted bundy get what he wants, no technology for young people, and this is a hard battle, but we all must stop the ghost of ted bundy, by doing what we want to do

as long as it is good, and realise if we do things that is bad, it’s ted bundy that is enforcing it

Crossing The Red Shttps://hellopoetry.com/jerry-howarth/poems/hidden/#ea - Numbers 13-14
     "Ok", said Moses to the rulers of each of the twelve tribes of Israel, "God has commanded me to send you to search out the land of Canaan to see what we will be up against when we invade it. Check out the strength of their army, how many we will be facing, what the cities look like and kind dwellings the people live in, tents or wooden structures, and what ever else you can find out about the land. Now go in the name of the Lord.

Some of the impatient people started complaining "Well it's been ten days since the men left" and others moaned "What keeping them so long, they have been gone for over thirty days!" and other voices suggested they probably got lost." "Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?"

Then one day someone looked up and saw them coming across the way and shouted, "Hey everyone, here comes the men back!"

"Well, it's about time! they have been gone for forty days!" someone else shouted.

"Welcome back, men" greeted Moses. "Good to see you!"

After they all hugged and kissed their wives and children and showered and shaved, they all got together with Moses for a corporate meeting to tell what they had learned about Jerico.

Caleb spoke first, " This Jerico is a land beyond any place you could dream about! Here is just a small
sample of the fruit that grows there; and as we looked around, we discovered it is a land that flows with milk and honey."

"Oh Yeah Jerico has a lot of fruit tree and milk and honey, but what
Caleb didn't mention was how big the soldiers are and the walled
cities and, and, well in my opinion there is no way we can go up against them, and I think I speak for majority of us. "  
Caleb spoke up and said, "He doesn't speak for me. I say God is on our side and will deliver Jerico into our hand. By His power we are
well able to conquer them.!"

"No, No, No" shouted another man! The men of Jerico are giants and we are as grasshoppers in their sight. We would be fools to fight them. Don't listen to Caleb and Joshua.!"

And with the end of that speech, he picked up a stone and hurled it at Caleb and others did also. God protected them from being stone to death that day.  

Moses commanded the congregation to disperse and go to their tents. "What are we going to do?" We would be better off back in Egypt then here." "Caleb, Aron and Joshua should be ****** to death for leading us here."

But God intervened at the pleading of Moses and delivered them from death.

JOSHUA AND CALEB
Joshua and Caleb, men of great faith,
Examples and encouragers
To the human race.

Examples of men, who have
The courage of their convictions.
Courage in the midst of
Death threatening opposition.

Encouragers of those whose
Who positions are in the minority,
Could not be intimidated
Though threatened by the majority.

Twelve men sent to spy
On the land of Canaan,
And only Joshua and Caleb
Believed they could take 'em.

By their own strength,
The ten cowardly men
Viewed those giants
Occupying the promised land  

But Joshua and Caleb
Viewed those giant men
From the standpoint of God,
The great and mighty "I Am."

Victory could have been theirs
That was God's choice.
He would help them win the battle,
If they obeyed His voice.

But alas! The unbelievers
Over Joshua and Caleb, prevailed
To persuade the majority,
If they attack, they will surely fail.

Oh, dear reader of this poem,
The majority is not always right
But as someone said,
"In the will of God, you can win every fight"
        - From jerry Howarth's Book of Poetry

How we start is only part of what we eventually do.

Physically that's easy to see. Being human, adamkind,
we see weak starts often in life.
Colts or pups born a week too soon can be loved to lives as pampered pets,
Siring toys for the enjoyment of those who can afford to fuel them,
For generations, with never a single care,
Past that initial trauma and subsequent subjugation to the will of man.

I don't tell horse stories, dog stories or war stories, if I can keep from it.

But when you want to demonstrate the purest of payback,
revenge getting the bad guy in the end,
having a horse be the hero makes behaving like an animal
more noble to the mind of vengeful man.
It's not true, revenge being noble.
That's a very old lie.

Law is to prevent error by disallowing failure. Law.

Relative to the rest of God's creatures, we, adamkind, seem dependent, weak and vulnerable next to bears being weak
a way-less long time
Than we.
We come into this world weak as a baby anything and we stay that way longer
Than any living creature.

I am an American, by birth.
I was not born to a political party or a family with political roots,
"I ain't no Senator's son."
Still,
I was reared drinking mythic cherry wine
sprung from George's failure to lie
Regarding his woodman's knack with a hatchet.

Sitting on the fence rail Abe split,
town fathers where I lived
were said to have decided the most harmonious of towns
have only gainfully employed darker folks,
while white
trash was allowed to loll around because they was
some employer's kin by marriage.

It all seemed pretty normal, as a child.
The loller-arounders let kids listen when they told
Their friends, who could not read, what the newspapers said.

One block from my house there was a vet's and hobo's flop-house clad in corrugated tin, rusted-round the nail-holes all the way to the ground and the rust had spread, so at sunset,...
I only recall the single story shed having one door.
There were always old white men sittin' on the southside of the shed. At sunset, those old men's whispy white hair

appeared as white flowing mare's tale clouds under
a scab-red wall held up by old men with sunset shining faces...

It was a big shed, a low barn, a bunkhouse,
eight or ten 4-foot tin-sheets long on the north and south
Windowless walls.
The one door was on the south side.
Once I saw an old man selling red paper buddy poppies.
He was missing both legs about half-way up his thighs.
The poppy seller rode a square board that had what I think were
Roller-skates, the key-kind, with metal wheels about a 1/2 inch wide.
Nailed to it's bottom. He had handles made from a carpenter's saw
Without it's blade. He pushed himself with those handles.

That looked fun, to a four-year old.
It looks different now-a-days. Knowing
Those red poppies symbolized
The after math automatics of the war to end war.

Who knows the poppy-sellers son? He would be old.
Does he know how his father lost his legs, but lived?
Does he bear the curse of the curse that lost his father's legs?
Does he honor his father's cause or weep at the thought?

Enough is enough.
My family tree branched in America, but only one great grand-parent,
Three generations back from me, was rooted in this land.
My gran'ma's ma, a Choctaw squaw,
That rhymed fine,
But it's not true. My grandma did not know her parents. She was born an orphan,
And her father and mother were likely strangers.

1910 in southwest Arkansas or southeast Oklahoma or northeast Texas or northwest Louisiana
And the color of her skin is all that proved my American heritage.

My grandma was born poor as poor can be,
she never told me how she survived

To survive a 1925 or so car wreck
in eastern Arizona's white mountains.
I never asked what my grandmother knew,
nor how she came to know.

This is my point.
After you and I have gone into forever more,
Our great grand children may wonder
what we did or did not, since we
Are no longer around to give our account.

These days we can leave our story to our great grand children.
Our own children
And our grand children follow us on facebook back to before they were born.
Shall they judge us idlers wielding idle words for laughs,
or  think us knowers of all we found while seeking first the Kingdom of Heaven
In the place Jesus says it is. You know where Jesus said the Kingdom of our kind lies?

The double minded man is unstable in all his ways,
hence Eve and her broader bandwidth corpus colostrum
Come back later, there is a breath system upgrade evolving.

Such changes to the courage of the mind rolls out more slowly
to the root ideas, labouring to find sustenance,
it is a struggle being a radical idea,
we agree, but we have our part,
as do the flowers
and the spore.
Leaven the whole lump, like it or lump it.

The now we live in grew from far deeper roots than
the roots claimed by the
Self-identified nation through it's cartoons/representations of national desires to rally 'round the flag as if it were the fire,
those desires to herd beneath any shelter from the storm,
Your country, your incorporated allegiance
to the inventor and creator and counter of the money under
the protection of the sword and crown representative
of the flame that burns,
The namers of patriot, the rankeers of ideas
who, by their existence,
naturally, over rule you.
Such powers are granted by the individual, not the mob.
You get that?

The desires of the nation over rule the desires of the individuals who
Com-prize the nation.
Whose side are you on, dear reader?

Is the idea we believed believable?
Ex Nihilo, I don't think so because
I can't imagine how now could be
Accidental-ly.

When my hero wore spurs as he went from the jail office to
Miss Kitty's place, (Gunsmoke on A.M. radio)

What did Miss Kitty do?
I had no clue.
In my hero's world people never
Did the wrong thing
While Marshal Dillon was in Dodge.

So did you think Miss Kitty's place was anything other
than a culturally acceptable
reference to professional social ******* workers
under a strong, smart female CEO
with top-level links to the local cops?

All these are rhetorical questions, this being
Rhetorical if you are hearing me say this.
That means, don't nod or raise your hand or shout Amen, kin!

I see your answer my answer and
I know my answer, so you know my answer.

Step-back, 1961, USA Snapshot
Unitas, Benny Kid Perett, Mantlenmarris, the Guns of Navarone.

Why I recall those things, I know not.
Why I did not say I do not know, I do not know.

Though, pausing to think,
knowing contains the doing of it within it, you know.
What's to do?

Outlaws were more my heroes than cowboys, and marshals, and such
Especially the ones that had been forced out by law.

I grew up in a 1950's junkyard with no fence, one mile north of route 66
On the Al-Can highway to Las Vegas, 103 miles away.
My Grandpa was a blacksmith's son,
who rode a horse he broke and his pa had shod
From Texas to Arizona in 1917, at the age of 18.

by the time I knew him,
He was fifty, settled down, nearly, from the war.
Momma had to work, so, daytime, Granddaddy raised me.

Horses weren't, wrecked cars were,
the toys of my childhood.

Grandpa built a junkyard from cars left steam blown
on the old stage road, from before
the railroad.
The Abo Highway hain't been Route 66 for some time yet…
Hoping…


Hoping sometime to polish this bit of this book, I left myself re-minders
Hoping memory of mental realms might rewind or unwind sequentially
When trigger
Neighed.
That worked, Roy Autry and Gene Rogers were names Sue Snow's
Mormon Bishop granddaddy called me,
back when I first recall My Grandpa Caleb,
a baptist by confession,
who was,
as I recall a *****-drinkin' jolly drunk.
While Grandma made beds in some motel,
granddaddy built boats and horse trailers
and hot rod 34 Chevies,
and he fixed this one red Indian, I could read the word on the gas tank, I knew the word Indian
and this motor cycle was proud to wear the name. I was 4.

A stout-strong man, no fat near any working muscle system,
he could and would
repair any broken thing,
for anybody. People called him Pop.
Pop and Mr. Levi-next-door at the Loma Vista Motel, shared a listing in the Green Book,
so broke down ******* knew where help could be found
after dark in that town.
There was a warnin'ag'in
let'n sunset there
on darker than grandma's skin.

My Gran'daddy's shop had two gas pumps
that were reset to begin pumping with the turn of a crank.
As soon as I could turn that crank,
I could pump gas.
I could fill up that red Indian
Motorcycle.
But "m'spokes was too short
to kick the starter."
I told my eleven year old uncle
and he told
how he would always remember learning
that saddles have no linkage
to horse brakes.
"Not knowing what you cain't do
kin *** ye kilt."

He grew up in the junk yard, too.
My first outlaw hero.

Likely, I am alive today, because
On the day I discovered I could pump gas as good as any man,
I also discovered that real motorcycles were not built for little boys.

Gender is a ****.
Now bear with me, I don’t mean it in a bad way
I mean it as gender is elusive
Gender is tricky
Maybe with my words I should be more picky
But that’s not the point
The point is gender is something I cannot hope to begin to understand

Maybe gender is a universe
And within it we are all stars
Or maybe gender is an ocean
Not quite the Dead Sea where everything floats
And not quite everywhere else where everything sinks
But somewhere in between
And within it we are all jellyfish trying to string together a coherent stream of consciousness that somehow makes sense

And-see?
It’s getting away from me
I used to think gender was a binary
Male, female, *****, ******
Everything coincides so we all fit into this dichotomy
But that leaves no room for Alex who is sometimes Alex and other times Cassandra
Or Sasha who is somehow both at once
Or me who lays claim to no label, because all of them throw up a red light

There is one thing I do know as fact
Pronouns are not a privilege
They are a right

They, them, their:
Singular gender nonspecific pronouns
A customer came into the store today and bought twelve packs of gum
I didn't know what was on their mind, but
Maybe they wanted to kiss their lover full on the mouth while an orchestra of taste crescendoed around them
Caleb came into class today with two cupcakes
One for them and the other for their best friend who hadn’t shown up in two weeks
Claiming “She’ll be here today, don’t you worry”
And the rest of us lapsed into silence, knowing she was never coming back

She, her, hers
No longer will I suffer in silence as those I care most for
Call me something I am not
I am not your daughter, I am your child
I am not your sister, I am your sibling
I am not a girl
I am a nonbinary
I know it makes no sense
But if you just listen you might be able see
To escape the past tense
And start living in the future with me

No longer will we stay quiet
Duct tape over our mouths as we are locked behind closed doors
Buried beneath accusations of
Transtrender
Genderspecial
“You’re just pretending”
No longer will we stay silent
The wrong pronouns whipping our bodies into submission

It
Is not a pronoun
*******
Is not a compliment

You sit in the audience groaning
When will this queer shut up and go home
Isn’t it enough that we acknowledge your existence
But you don’t
I cannot count the times I have been misgendered
I cannot count the times I have wanted to speak up but didn’t
Knowing I would not be taken seriously

Now I will not be silent until there are no more stories of
Schoolyard oppression
Trans suicides caused by a “lesson”
I will scream myself hoarse until
Trans women can walk the streets in safety and
Bathroom means bathroom not
Execution
Remember this
As we are forgotten by our cis siblings
As we are told we don’t exist
As you, the cis  in the front row
Realize
That your daughter at home
May not be your daughter
At all