Utilize the practices and maneuvers developed in Hell
Watch the coherence of the corroded coercion
A little birdy told you to ignore the tingly feeling on the nape of your neck
And to use a little elbow grease to try and heal this place of its discord
The leave posthaste
Or so I've heard

Years have passed now a mountebank calls all those who suffer from foot-in-mouth issues, racing minds, unjoggable memories and anyone who's psychiatrist couldn't shrink their problems
"Come one, come all! Try the new elixir that with one taste all your worries, all your hardships, all your dreadful  nightmares incarnate will vanish in an instant!"

A large crowd made up of rogues, shot messengers, plate scrapers, date rapers accused of buggery, banished bums and exiled urchins, frail victims of nit picking and guileful gimmicks now surround the platform and end table stacked with tiny bottles of cloudy liquid

"It will help you pass a drug test, prevent you from waking up on the wrong side of the bed and you'll be able to recite the alphabet backwards!"
"Yes! You heard it here first, Doctor Meerkatt's Magic Elevating Elixir!"
"Now in a variety of four fruity flavors"
And coming soon, Dr. Meerkatt's Fast-acting Magic Elevating Elixir!"

Lines form
One for those who wish to take their's home and drink it
One for those desirous for mainline vaccinations
I go on neither line, I'm not susceptible to theses types of things
But I could be if given enough grief and desperation  

I've seen this act before
I've seen all the mind readers
All the fortunetellers
All the traveling sales people
Who collectively have the same goal
To attempt to sell some product or idea that seems worthwhile but in reality is nothing more than a cheap farce that you pay for with your milk money and your intelligence

I'll leave these scavenger hunts for trinkets of cures and hopes for the naive ones and the thoughtless adrenaline junkies who's minds will be abducted by some quack or prevaricator and their ignorant rants
Their "ignor-rants"

It just pains me to see you be a part of all this, my old friend
You were once a caring, cautious person
Now you're an abstract con artist
Now you're just Dr. Meerkatt

There's now proof, that a Russian flesh-eating cannibal is in the good old US of A

He would offer you toxic ingredients, including gasoline and lighter fluid, I'd say

But, because its tell-tale scaly sores, are similar to another well known leacher

They initially played down concerns, saying, "they're not seeing signs of the creature"

My boyfriend had maggots coming out of his leg, after a recent foreign scare

I know people don't want to hear stuff like that, but it is really happening out there



Snap goes the toothless crocodile, one, two, three

Wangsta da Gangsta, had a great haul

Ring a ding a ling, 'cause they deliver the first for free

Jim and Joan went into da hood, to fetch nothin' much at all



They fall to the charlatans, that promise you a crystal ball

A little at first and then some more, that's for sure

It will make you snap, give you curls and dance you a little twirl

Star gazing thru the sun ray and day tripping into a wayward night

That's why if you use crocodile juice, it will do more than shake ya loose

Destroying our souls, creating huge holes and build mountains out of moles



Snap goes the toothless crocodile, one, two, three

Wangsta da Gangsta, had a great haul

Ring a ding a ling, 'cause they deliver the first for free

Jim and Joan went into da hood, to fetch nothin' much at all



Mr Jeffrey Vint has become less popular among his abusers

I say, "they're all losers", but I guess, beggars can't be choosers

Some mother's even gave birth with two thumbs, but those babies are now total ****

Others think the monster could be at large, maybe roaming your neighbourhood  

Put a stop to this croc's chomp, before it destroys everything in the swamp

Get your doctor to prescribe a stronger drug, to conquer that evil imposter  



Snap goes the toothless crocodile, one, two, three

Wangsta da Gangsta, had a great haul

Ring a ding a ling, 'cause they deliver the first for free

Jim and Joan went into da hood, to fetch nothin' much at all.

Identity resolved, blue ribbons taut-
I am speech, a verb, a praise, a participial phrase-
There are many battles yet to be fought,
but with respite and awareness of everything throughout,
and to know one's self is to know the world-
Action vernacular, I use words like disappear to identify-
Find one's self in all mundane, rain and flame and claimless blame,
I am the Earth-
Words like crush and blight,
For philistines and charlatans, I preach intrepidly-
A zeal-
Belief is as an ageless hearth,
smelting swords for smiting fear,
for pain and trepidation to disappear.
Reborn red-horned, and one dozen eyes can see
I'm a word, a noun, a ****, a key, and All alive is a mirror,
It is dangerous to utter truths when lies are all the rage,
But I reflect the truth-
Every creature, refined or uncouth,
is a form of life, a light of myself.
To forget is just as whimsical as a simple turn of phrase,
all I can advise,
is to simply turn the page-
Normalcy and tact are artificial-
At base, one's merit is no longer superficial,
but to assert this fact-
This is the greatest battle of all.

comedy
clandestine couples
clamerous cosmetics
coughing guffaws
garrulous giggles
gratefully grinning

grotesque charlatans...

tragedy**
torrid transgressions
tornado turnabout
tempestuous tradition
transcendent puberty
punishing parable
poignantly

pointless.


Shakespeare.
wove both into
his weft of

words.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/12/2017

if you're sober and giving out
a spiritual message -
if you're sober and not intoxicated
you're just a charlatan
and easily degraded
to corrupt people's fanciful aims
at contra-globalisation arrangements -
hello, me the lesser jew
on the geographic platter,
a pole, missing for about 240 years,
ah not comparable to the jew, but still,
a twinning with other nations askew
in colonialism's ****.
me? after half a bottle of *****, five beers
with one at 8.5% and now a whiskey mixer,
what do you think? imitation of soberness,
plus the additive fact i also fasted all day
and i'm hungry? **** a doodle-do.

Is this true
darling
what I hear
that the cult you submitted o
won’t let you see mum and dad?
And little Tom you left behind?
That the leader takes you nights
to tell you
God wants him to
explore your body and give Him an account?


Is this true
darling
what I hear?
that the cult you submitted to
has convinced you
Last Days are here
and in the fear of it all
you **** in your pants?
O lucky you
you’re the chosen one
you make holy water
so call in your cult
and let them drink it
or let them all lick it off your legs
tell them
darling
‘Here drink of this
the holy water
or lick it off
salt and urea
produced with faith and fear’
Give it back to the cult
tell them it is benediction
of Last Days
and they who drink it
will be amongst the elect
and those who lick it off
will sit on the right hand side of God;
and darling
produce prodigious amounts
as in the time of the Great Flood
tell them to queue and not squabble
there’s plenty for everyone of you
and if they say
they’re hungry
if you could
bring in holy food
tell them
a visit to the Scurvy Dogs Pound
can easily be arranged


O is this true
darling
what I hear?
that the intelligence
and mind
nature took so long to make in you
you blew it
on charlatans and nincompoops
and yourself became one?

My dear friend received a letter from you.
A note written by a deceived elder,
Whose words were motivated by goodness,
Sent out of your pastoral duty.
But, you must be oblivious to the hate in your ink.
A warning,
An invitation,
To excommunication.

Excommunication.
The threat found on your paper,
Missing from the Bible,
And your Book of Mormon,
And your Doctrine and Covenants.
Appropriate for legalistic religion,
But the polar opposite of Christ.

Fornication.
She left her father and mother
And is united to him.     1
Before each other,
They knew no one else,
Promised to each other
Forever.
Reminiscent of Abraham and Sarah,     2
Isaac and Rebekah.     3
God doesn’t see certificates,
But committed love.
Can you?

Alcohol.
Noah made use of his vineyard,     4
And Jesus made wine from water.     5
Encouraged for ailments,     6
A blessing bringing joy,
Can become sinfully abused.
God can tell the difference.
Can you?

Tattoos.
If she cannot mark her body with ink,     7
You cannot cut hair at the sides of your head,
Or the edges of your beard.     8
Were the vegetables in your garden,
Or the fruit from the market,
Forbidden for three years,
Before you ate them?     9
All these ancient commandments,
Are found in the same chapter.
Jesus looks passed them.     10
Can you?

Gossiping.
You have heard of rules broken,
Number those proven.
Your ear leaned toward gossips,     11
As you rejected the woman slandered.
God sees the people behind their sin.     12
Can you?

Hypocrisy.
Woe unto hypocrites,     13
Charlatans,
Frauds.
You deny communion to her,
But did you do the same for your daughter?
Was she rejected when she birthed your grandbaby,
A *******?
Or was your daughter, like my friend,
Repentant,     14
Tired of being told who God is,
In the throes of figuring God out?
When you partake of communion,
Are you worthy?     15
Jesus allowed Judas to partake of His holy sacrament,     16
And invites us all.     17
Can you?

She loves Jesus,
To whom she prays,
Her boyfriend,
Who sleeps by her side,
Her friends,
Who she shares an occasional drink with.
The tattoo on her foot,
Reads “Love”
In calligraphy as beautiful
As the love in her soul.
Jesus sees this.
I hope you see it, too.

Love your God with all your heart,
Soul,
Strength,
Mind.     18
Love your neighbor as yourself.     19
We both are praying for her,
But I’m also praying for you,
To know the God of love,     20
Who is jealous for her,     21
And for you.
He wants you to love Him,
And He wants to love on you,
But your worship of religion is getting in the way.
Stop your adultery,     22
And run back,
Prodigal Son,     23
To your true love,
Christ.
There’s room at His table for a sinner like you, me, her, and all.
And our Jesus,
He,
Alone,
Writes the invitations.
You are not to review,
Stamp,
And mail them.
But only to accept and share the One He sent to you.

*

1 Genesis 2:24; Genesis 2:30 (Inspired Version)
2 Genesis 11:29; Genesis 11:18 (Inspired Version)
3 Genesis 24
4 Genesis 9:20; Genesis 9:27 (Inspired Version)
5 John 2
6 2 Samuel 16:2, Proverbs 31:6, Mark 15:23, Luke 10:34, 1 Timothy 5:23
7 Leviticus 19:28
8 Leviticus 19:27
9 Leviticus 19:23-24
10 Romans 3:23-26
11 Proverbs 11:13, 20:19, 26:20-22
12 Isaiah 43:25-26
13 Matthew 23:13
14 1 John 1:9
15 1 Corinthians 11:27
16 Matthew 26:24-26
17 1 Corinthians 11:28
18 Luke 10:27
19 Matthew 22:39
20 1 John 4:8
21 Exodus 20:5
22 James 4:4
23 Luke 15:11-32

I’m a stamp -
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp” -
but I am a stamp
a postage stamp, that is;
unique and proud, in my own class,
for I’ve carried queens and kings and emperors
(I still do)
and I carry Presidents and Poets and Rock Kings
and Pop Kings
and Musicians and Legends and Heroes
and Gods and Nations;
and I carry **** blondes
and old dames who’ve dedicated their lives to others

I’ve borne with no complaints
the weight of genius
and soldiers and founders of nations
and martyrs; and I do not discriminate
and with like gusto and color
I’ve carried tyrants and murderers and charlatans
and once-were-legends now the shamed;
and look, I can encompass the universe
and within the shapes formed by my perforations
I’ve held together flowers and birds
and all wonders of nature
I am each a poem, a work of art
I’m a stamp -
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp”
(What? You heard me the first time, did you?
Well, I’ll say it again for emphasis!) -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud -
though, I acknowledge,
the image of Royalty or Heroism or Greatness has
not saved me from various knocks and hard presses
and the ******* bin!
But then, so have mighty royal heads rolled!
but look, hee…heee….heee…
I can be absolutely adorable,
and I just love, love it when you lick me;
and often too
I’m a collector’s item
increasing in value, and even with artistic merit -
though no doubt, there are countless with no idea
of how so darling precious I am
which is I why
I say proudly again:
I’m a stamp
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp”
(And what? Why do I repeat myself?
Well, there are thousands of copies
of one issue, aren’t there?) -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud
and I’ve created worlds all of my own
with pen pals and commerce
and industries and clubs round me;
and I’m not alone, you know,
well-supported by relatives
like prepaid postal envelopes, post cards,
letter cards, aerogrammes
all of us served loyally
by unquestioning Gurkha-style postmen and women;
and I’ve brought hearts and minds together
and I do it in a day or days and or weeks
and if I feel like it, I even arrive decades later! –
and there’s nothing you can do about it!
And oh yes, I can see, you’re prone to neglecting me -
you ungrateful scoundrels! -
first replacing me with cold
Franking Machines,
and cheap, unimpressive, unimaginative franking marks
and with postage meters
imprinting an indicia;
and all of you now
deriding my world as snail pace
in your world of instant e-mails -
but I persist, and I still am of much use
for - listen carefully -
and I say proudly again:
I’m a stamp
no, I didn’t say “I’m just a stamp”,
or “I’m but a stamp” -
but I am a stamp in my own right, unique and proud;
and if you, once in a while,
want to show me your loyalty –
come to a local post office and lick my royal ****!

If there is anything that will accompany you in all of your travels it is free will. It will continue its inexhaustible journey exceeding the life your parents, your schooling and your vocational pursuits, dominating your every thought and decision. It will control your destiny beyond any external force or suggestion that is placed upon your pillow. It will neither guarantee success nor doom you to failure. But it will place all manner of excuse, blame or alibi at your feet to be crushed by its unyielding demand that the freedom to choose is a man’s game to be played only by those who are willing to accept the consequences of its exercise.

And what of God? Is it the will of man to be presented the option of paradise versus eternal damnation? For who would dream up such a choice? It would seem that it is no choice at all for the former is laden with streets of gold while the latter summons visions of burning flames and the wish to perish only to be laughed at by a being so diabolical that he exclaims, “And you wanted earthly riches so badly that you gave up streets of gold for the right to beg me to finish you off!” And yet the choice exists in the vacuum between mere rumor and fact; fact that cannot be measured but only sensed or felt. And as you are bathed in the witness of those with the spirit burning from within, you find that your mind must choose its path. And though you are free to choose you will find that the choice is not solely a matter of belief but a matter of self-determination for the choices that you must make about God are not a matter of a single affirmation or denial but a daily choice of good versus evil. And you will be confused by the power of evil because it does not reveal itself readily; instead it will tempt you beyond all that which you have ever known. And you will then know the choice is not one of saying yes and then departing the witness stand; it will be a choice that will become who you are as a human. And yet if God does not exist the choice remains in how you interact in your daily walk amongst those who do believe knowing that some will try to make you feel less than holy because of a particular certainty that you do not possess and some will attempt to save you because they believe they are commanded to concern themselves with your salvation.

And what of truth? For it is said that an honest man’s pillow is his peace of mind, yet you will know that truth may also bring pain, punishment, scorn, estrangement or confusion. To tell the truth no matter the consequence is to say that you stand alone in principle or in condemnation for your acts. It is to say you have no friend who will be protected for his actions or spared what you deem to be real. To tell the truth no matter the consequence is to say you will risk all that you have worked for by raising the ire of those with the power to destroy you or to crush the dreams of innocents who are to be told that their beliefs are those of mere fantasy. To tell the truth is to question everything that you encounter including the God who you have decided to accept or reject for what you have learned about him may be second-hand from charlatans or from a book that you barely understand or from an unbeliever full of scorn or from a believer who swears that miracles occur in this very age. To tell the truth is to never accept what it is that cannot be proven even as you are asked to accept that which cannot be proven as eternal truth.

And what of fear? Can you choose not to be afraid? Is it a matter of only being afraid of imminent danger or of being afraid of possibilities or differences in others? Is it a matter of settling in behind walls, either real or imagined, to surround yourself with like-minded fools, separating yourself even further from understanding and compassion towards those who are different than yourself? For any man who resists the ideas of another before they are fully comprehended or who rejects another because they do not believe exactly as you or who rejects another who believes things you never considered because they lived in another land or who rejects another solely because a flag or a book has been branded as the truth without question becomes merely a mark for those who wish to exploit his mind for their own gain.

And what of love? The love of family is forever. It will sustain you, define you, remind you, inspire you… but even though the blood of your past is always present you must find yourself and remember that a legacy can be uplifting or destructive. And as you become a man you will find love in the eyes of a woman. And she will become your life as your family steps to the periphery. And you will think of flowers and birds and meadows covered with dew as passion overtakes your sense of everything except ravishing her with your life and your body…. But what of separation and conflict… what if the mystery of her heart is revealed to be a horror story so deep that you are consumed with the rage of a man who has lost his mind? Can you say yes without the assurance of forever? Will you know in your heart who it is that you entrust with everything that is dear to you? Your goals? Your dreams? Will you know her before it is too late to close the door to your heart?

And what of you? Do you know who you are and what you will die for? What you will stand alone for? What sacrifices you will make? Will you know what life is about and find a reason to live and not to consume? Will you look to the past and anticipate the future to guide your present? Will you understand the forces that guide you or will you trade free will for chance and wait for fate to choose your path? Knowing that destiny is driven by your hand and fate can be driven by neglect or apathy, will you wake up each morning with an eye on what it is that defines you as a man? Will you live to do good or to do evil? Will you understand that each day is the day to begin your life anew? To make the changes that need to be made and to only use the past as a guide to learning and not as an anchor of unworthiness?

You are loved my son and what you are IS my son and I only ask these questions of you because of my love for you. For I cannot live your life and I do not ask you live your life for me. That is for you and I hope you choose wisely. I do love you more than you will ever know.

Is this true
darling
what I hear
that the cult you submitted o
won’t let you see mum and dad?
And little Tom you left behind?
That the leader takes you nights
to tell you
God wants him to
explore your body and give Him an account?


Is this true
darling
what I hear?
that the cult you submitted to
has convinced you
Last Days are here
and in the fear of it all
you **** in your pants?
O lucky you
you’re the chosen one
you make holy water
so call in your cult
and let them drink it
or let them all lick it off your legs
tell them,
darling:
‘Here drink of this
the holy water
or lick it off
salt and urea
produced with faith and fear’


Give it back to the cult
tell them it is benediction
of Last Days
and they who drink it
will be amongst the elect
and those who lick it off
will sit on the right hand side of God;
and darling
produce prodigious amounts
as in the time of the Great Flood
tell them to queue and not squabble
there’s plenty for everyone of you
and if they say
they’re hungry
if you could
bring in holy food
tell them
a visit to the Scurvy Dogs Pound
can easily be arranged


O is this true
darling
what I hear?
that the intelligence
and mind
nature took so long to make in you
you blew it
on charlatans and nincompoops
and yourself became one?