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Sitting here in class I am today, minding my business as they would say. I’m listening to the teacher teach but hearing only things left beyond my reach. Another whole day in this **** school so I can come out each night 'more-of-a-fool,' and would it behoove them all to know, I ain’t no dummy, no 'coffee-Joe'?

  …but then I’d have to get the chance, the opportunity provided to advance and the equal treatment they all receive that somehow has been lost on me. Why do I even come here? Why does my Mom insist on this? They don’t call on me, care about me, acknowledge me, it’s ridiculous. At lunch each day I gotta use my fists and even my own kind acts wicked, cause for the rest of them fighting is all that exists.

  Exists; having objective reality or being.

  I exist alright; exist if you call this a life, defined by ******, **** and monkey, or related to some stupid-actin’ ****** or some dumb brawler or that dude good at running but never ever seen as intelligent and cunning. The girls ignore me, teachers too, white guys hate me, what did I do? What did I ever do to them? I’m just like you, I just want some friends, want the chance in life to succeed, man shut up about being freed that **** happened a hundred and fifty ******* years ago, I’m just as sick of hearing about it as you are 'Bro.'

  They say I have rights, they say that it’s fair, they say there’s a chance for me everywhere, but everywhere I look that’s not what I see, I’m put-down and degraded cons-tant-ly, told that I should join the team, or passed over in conversations about some thing. Forced to be friends with thugs that hate but to them at least I can relate, for just like me they was excluded or marginalized when told that they are deluded; they’ll never make it anyway, never achieve their dreams, never have their say so why even bother when no one cares how you feel, when your dreams in life won’t ever be real, when you end up in the streets and all you got left is to steal, when its still,

“Go back to Africa ******!”

...they say with zeal and the vitriol an violence comport surreal, Helen didn’t hold this secret to reveal nor does rap, truthfully, with these problems deal? Cocooned by stares and ****-sure glares, because your own sports brothers hate your *** and make you just wanna ditch that class, so here I ended up on the streets, hangin' round on my crew’s beats, acting tough, street-cred and clout and there your 'momma-an-sister' out n’ about, while here I am a fresh drop-out and can you guess what?

Here we come to take her purse, I clock your mom’s mouth and shove down your sister but ***** you boy I could’ve done much worse, she could’ve lost her life and come home in a hearse!

  Is this the ****** ya’ll wanted to see? All filled up inside with hatred, cause I was told that I would never make it, from day one got no attention, spent half of high school in afternoon detention, training me for my future as a prison convict yet another sign our society is depraved and sick. Given no chance or help or just some praise, no moments to shine and no Happy Days, he’s just a gang-banger, a **** they say? My actions may be worse than your words assail, and well, that may be me and I may be in jail but here’s something from my Grand Momma, a little encouragement goes a long way to change this drama...

You see me on the street you better ******* run cause you already know what’s in my jacket son and my hoodie will be up so you can’t see my face since I already know what you think of my race.
I guess these are rhyming stories really. I grew up poor in rough neighborhoods and majority-minority schools. This piece is a tribute to tribulations of poor African Americans which I know all too well having grown up in their neighborhoods.
Jwala Kay Jul 2012
Since you have become the inscrutable obligation of my then bad ticker,
I played selfish and fancied
that you would too irrecoverably consent
for the sake of my extra-ordinary, uncanny feelings for you.
But I apologise in advance now.
Apologise, for I have realized and am tuned now.
For I reckoned that I'ld not have fell,
if held.
Yet neither did I manage to ignore.
I maybe just a fool and ever was discursive over the subject of Love itself.
But I feel burned upon the very idea of denying this phase off my life.
So I shall comport and wait to incur your love
to entwine with mine.
But again, the idea must have been Love, not the person.
And so, if it is ever meant to be so,
then I shall die with just the privilege of feeling that (Love) in me, for you.
Perhaps this was just a quarter, of what it is, of my real labyrinthian thoughts! (:
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2016
~~~

"all poetry is confessional, whether written in the first person or not. If nothing else, it is a homing device to our souls, telling any who read where we stand, what we see from our perspective and our poet's eye. When enough of us speak of what we perceive,
perhaps someday we'll understand that the tree, the snake, and the rope are indeed an elephant."

Joel Frye



perhaps
the essential modifier of our lives,
or as one of the greatest philosopher reprised,
Professor Alfred E. Doolittle,


"Oh, you can walk the straight and narrow;
But with a little bit of luck,
(perhaps)
you'll run amuck!"^

this thence,
one more mine true
confession,
so many discoursed, cursed

have seen the
roped wrapped tree
firmly snaking around its cored trunk,
issuing forced strangling sounds,
the musical product of its own
umbilical chord

still and yet,
the jungled elephants,
from my visionary,
remain ghostly hidden,
stolid solid doesn't not comport with the
hallucinogenic jive of running
amuck!

limitations shun my expectations,
abilities misrule hide my
hoped-for-destination of hopes,
my elephants,
still and yet,
elude the grasp of exhausted roving eyes

undeterred and reaffirmed,
until and then,
when the elephants come to me
on bended knee,
can understanding be
perhaps
pronounced,
as being blessed with best satisfaction,
with the finest of
illuminating,
most-happy-fella,
well known,
elephantine-humantine-pink
combine
phrases

A Happy Ending
After All


















^My Fair Lady - With A Little Bit O' Luck Lyrics
two - 13 - sixteen
San Franciso, Ca.
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2019
Sleeping with the Muse,
  my nights have grown short

Sleeping with the Muse,
  all senses comport

Sleeping with the Muse,
  words dance with delight

Sleeping with the Muse,
  confronting my fright

Sleeping with the Muse,
  her will tests again

Sleeping with the Muse,
  not lover or friend

Sleeping with the Muse,
  my dreams sacrificed

Sleeping with the Muse,
  all rest put on ice

Sleeping with the Muse,
  the whispers come clean

Sleeping with the Muse,
  excuses demeaned

Sleeping with the Muse,
  my spool is respun

Sleeping with the Muse,
  divorced from the sun

Sleeping with the Muse,
  in darkness I learn

Sleeping with the Muse,
  my spirit confirmed

Sleeping with the Muse
  till dawn’s freeing light

Sleeping with the Muse
   —new verse to take flight

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
Derrek Estrella Oct 2018
Music gives my eyes a tunnel and my mind the universe. This much I know and recite in verse- or, prose, well. However I may carry my words, they will do all frequencies a severe injustice. That is why I feel no need to describe the ether and the fluids that compose a tune. They simply are, anyone can perceive and dissect for themselves. The words, they serve to underline the story that an ear might not obtain from music. I aim to achieve a functional, symbiotic, conversational existence with these two chaps. One day, it’ll be great fun and my mind will sideflip its merry way through scrolls of papyrus and the speeches of lutes. Until then, it’s apparent and essential, necessary, to be trudging my forlorn way through the badlands of my cranium. Who knows? I may occasionally find myself an ardent hoodoo to comport my thoughts on. I will live for that and die for tomorrow. By increments, of course. I must believe that we’re not all imbeciles, here.
Kimbowa Ali Oct 2020
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Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2024
It was 3:00 a.m. in Bowie Maryland in the year of our Lord, 1861.

A drum roll passed by in the night not more than a mile away, and Billy couldn’t tell whether it was coming from the Yanks or the Rebs. Both of Billy’s brothers had left home in the past two months.  His oldest brother Jeb having joined the Army of Northern Virginia, while his next oldest brother Seth was now fighting for the Union with Major General George G. Meade in the Army of the Potomac. Billy’s family was like a lot of other families in Maryland, and the Western Shore of Virginia, with some men choosing to fight for the North while many chose the South.

Billy was just about to turn sixteen and still had not chosen his side.  He had friends and family fighting for both and knew that the time was getting short for him to choose.  He couldn’t imagine fighting against either of his older brothers, but once he decided the possibility would definitely be there.  Billy pulled the bed covers over his head and thought back to a more pleasant time — a day when his two older brothers had taken him fishing in Mayo along the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay.

His brothers couldn’t have been more different.  Jeb was large and domineering with a personality that fit the profile of the typical soldier or warrior.  Seth was more studious and would rather have his nose stuck in a book than behind the sights of a Springfield Rifle Model 1861.  The 1861 was the most widely used rifle on both sides. The south called their version the Fayetteville Rifle, and Billy’s Dad had given his to Jeb just before he died last year.  Billy had never fired the big gun and had only carried it for his father and brother when they went on their weekly hunts for deer and small game.

Billy Finally Drifted Off To Sleep …

The next morning, his mother told him that Union soldiers had passed by in the night under the command of Colonel Elmer E. Ellsworth.  They were on their way to Alexandria Virginia to join with Colonel Orlando B. Wilcox in an attempt to retake Alexandria and drive the confederates out.  It was just too close to Washington D.C. and had to be secured. For several months confederate troops had been infiltrating Maryland and sightings had been reported from Hagerstown to Anne Arundel County. Billy wondered about the fighting that would take place later that week and hoped that wherever his brothers were engaged they were safe and out of harms way.

After breakfast, Billy decided to spend the day fishing along the Patuxent River just southeast of his home.  He rode their old Tennessee Walker George as his blue tick hound Alfie ran along side. It took Billy an hour to get to the river and he used the time to once again try and decide what the right thing was for him to do.  He had sympathies for both sides, and the decision in his mind was neither black nor white.  He wished that it was because then he could get this all over with and leave today. Billy was famous in his area for being able to get across the water. Whether it was a makeshift raft, dugout canoe, or just some drift lumber available, Billy had made it across long open stretches of the Chesapeake Bay — never once having been deterred.

He Was An Early Day Chesapeake Waterman

Billy returned home from fishing that day and found his house burned to the ground.  His mother was standing out front still in tears with her arms wrapped around Billy’s little sister Meg.  A rear-guard unit from Ellsworth’s column had gotten word that Billy’s brother Jeb was fighting for the South and just assumed that the entire family were southern sympathizers. Billy’s mother tried to tell the soldiers that her middle son was fighting with the Army of The Potomac.  No matter how hard she pleaded with the sergeant in charge, he evacuated all in the house (Billy’s Mother, Sister and Aunt Bess) and then covered the front porch in coal oil, lit it with a torch, and then just rode away. He never even turned around to watch it burn.

That Union Sergeant had now made Billy’s decision crystal clear, at least for the moment.  Once he got his mother, sister, and aunt resettled, he would make his way to Virginia and join with his older brother in the confederate cause. He remembered his brother Jeb telling him that the Confederate Soldiers had more respect, and he couldn’t imagine them doing to his family what the Union Army had just done.

It took Billy two weeks to get his Mother resettled with family up in Annapolis.  He then packed the little that remained of his belongings, loaded up old George, and said goodbye to the life he knew.  It would be a week’s ride to get past the Union Camps in Southern Maryland and Northern Virginia, and he knew he would have to stay in the tree line and travel at night.  If caught by the Yanks, his only chance of survival would be to join up with them, and he couldn’t imagine fighting for those who had just destroyed his home. His conviction to get past Fredericksburg was now determined and strong.

All Billy had to arm himself with was an 1860 percussion squirrel rifle that his brothers had bought him before going off to war.  It was only.36 caliber, but still gave Billy some feeling of security as he slowly passed through the trees in the dark. His plan was to hug the western shore of the bay, as far as Charlotte Hall, and then take two short ferry rides. His first would be across the Patuxent River and then one across the Potomac on his way to Fredericksburg.  He prayed and he hoped that the ferry’s he found were not under Union control.

Billy spent his first night in Churchton along the western shore. It was quiet and uneventful, and he was actually able to get a good night’s sleep.  He had run out of oats for George though, and in the morning needed to find an understanding farmer to help fortify his mount.  As he approached the town of Sunderland, he saw a farmer off to his right (West) tending to his fields.  Billy approached the farmer cautiously making sure he rode around in front of the farmer and not approaching from the rear.

The farmer said his name was Hawkins, and he told Billy there were oats over in the barn and two water troughs in front of the house.  He also said that if he was hungry there was a woman inside who would fix him something to eat.  He then told him that he could spend the night in his barn but since it was still early in the day, he said he was sure that Billy wanted to move on.

Billy thought it was strange that the man asked no other questions of him.  He seemed to accept Billy for all that he was at the moment — a young man riddled with uncertainty and doubt and on his way to a place he still wasn’t sure was right for him.  The look in the man’s eyes pointed Billy in the direction he now needed to go, and as he turned to thank him for his hospitality the man had already turned back to his plow.

In the barn were three large barrels of oats and five empty stalls. Two of the stalls looked like they had recently been slept in because there were two empty plates and one pair of socks still lying in the stall furthest to the left.  Billy fed George the oats and then walked outside.  Everything looked quiet in the house as he approached the front door.  He knocked twice, and a handsome looking woman about his mother’s age answered before he could knock a third time.  The woman’s name was Martha and as she invited Billy inside, she asked him when was the last time he had eaten?
Yesterday morning Ma’m, Billy said, as Martha prepared him some cold pork and cooked beans.  Billy was so hungry that he thought it was the best thing that he had ever tasted. Martha then told Billy to be careful in the woods because both union and rebel forces had been seen recently and there were stories of atrocities from both sides as they passed on their way.  Martha also said she had heard that Union forces had burned a farm up in Bowie a few weeks ago.  Billy stayed quiet and didn’t utter a word.

Billy Remained Quiet

After he finished his meal, Billy thanked Martha who had packed salt pork for him to take on his way.  Billy walked George to the water trough and waited as George drank.  He looked across the fields and he could sense what was coming.  This tranquil and pastoral scene was soon to be transformed into blood and gore as the epic struggle between North and South finished its first year. It was late fall in 1861 and Billy’s birthday was in two more weeks.  This was never the way he envisioned turning sixteen to be.

Billy thanked Martha, put the salted pork in his pouch, and remounted George. Martha said:  Whichever side you are riding to, may God be with you, young man.  Billy thought it was strange that she knew where he was heading without him telling.  He then also thought that he was probably not the first young traveler to stop at this farm for some kind words and sustenance. He rode back out in the field to thank the farmer, but when he got to the spot where he had met him before, the farmer was not there.  Billy wondered where he could have gone.  As he rode back down the cobbled dirt road, he noticed a sign at the end where it reconnected with the main road — Billett’s Farm. That wasn’t the name the farmer had told him when they were first introduced before.

Hawkins He Had Said

Billy worked his way towards Charlotte Hall.  From there he would head East to Pope’s Creek and try to get on the short ferry that would take him across the Potomac River and over to Virginia. Then Billy was sure he would finally be safe.  Tonight though, he only made it as far as Benedict Maryland, and he again needed to find secluded shelter for the night. Benedict was right along the banks of the Patuxent River where the farming was good, and the fishing was even better.

It was getting dark when Billy spotted what he was looking for.  There was a large farm up ahead with two large barns and three out buildings.  Billy sat inside the trees and waited for dark.  It was inside the outbuilding furthest to the east that he intended to stay the night.  As darkness covered the fields, Billy walked slowly towards the large shack.  He led George behind him by his lead and hoped that he would remain quiet.  George was an older horse, now fifteen, and seemed to always know what was required of him without asking.  Not that you can really ask a horse to do anything, but George did just seem to know.

Billy got to the outbuilding and put his ear to the back wall to see if he could hear anything from inside.  When he was sure it was safe, he walked around front to the door, opened it, and he and George quickly walked inside.  In the very dim moonlight, Billy could see that it was about 20’ X 20’ and had chopped wood stored against the back wall.  There were also two empty stalls and a loft up above about 10’ X 20.’  Billy decided to sleep downstairs in case he had to get away fast, and after tying George to the furthest back stall, he laid down in the stall to its right and fell fast asleep.
Billy doesn’t know how long he had been asleep, but all at once he heard the sound of clicking and could feel the cold hard press of steel against his left temple.  He woke up in a start and could see five men with lanterns standing over him in the stall.  As his eyes started to adjust, he noticed something strange.  Three of these five men were black.

Whatcha doin here boy, and where you headed, the biggest of the three black men asked him?  Billy knew that how he was to answer that question would probably determine whether he lived through the night. I’m headed to Virginia to try and find my older brother. Our farm was burned a few weeks ago and my mother and baby sister are now living with relatives.  I need to let my brother know, so he will know where to find us when the war is over.
I think this here boy’s fixin to join up with the Rebs, another of the black men shouted out.  Tell the truth boy, you’re headed to Richmond to sign up with old Jeff Davis ain’t you?  Billy lied and said he wasn’t sure of which side to fight for and that he had a brother fighting for each.  With that, the biggest of the three sat him on a barrel in the corner and began to talk again …
What you done tonight boy is decide to camp in a rural spot of the Underground Railroad.  You know what that is boy?  We have a real problem now because you knows where it’s at.  We can’t trust that you won’t tell nobody else and ruin other’s chances to get North and be free.  Billy just stared into the man’s face.  He had a strength mixed with kindness behind his eyes and for a reason Billy couldn’t understand, he felt safe in this man’s presence.

Son, we is makin our way over to Preston on the western shore where we catches a train to the North.  We have one more stop before there and that’s at the Hawkins place just thirty miles up the road.  Billy then knew why the stalls back at Martha’s barn had looked slept in.  He still wondered why the sign at the farm entrance had said Billett instead of Hawkins.  The black man then said: My names Lester, and those two men over there are brothers named Rayford and Link.  By now, the two white men were gone and only the four of them were left in the stall.

Since you say you haven’t made your mind up yet about which side to join, let me help you a little with your choosin.  Lester then went on to tell Billy that Rayford and Link had five other brothers and two sisters that were all killed while trying to escape to the North.  Not only were they killed, but they were tortured before being hanged just outside of Columbia South Carolina.  Lester then asked Rayford and Link to remove their shirts.  As they did, Lester took his lantern and shined it over both of their backs.  Both were totally covered with scars from the several lashings they had received on the plantation where they had worked back in South Carolina.  Lester said this was not unusual, and no man should be treated that way.  This was worse treatment than the slave owner would ever do to any of his animals.

Lester then said again: It’ll be a shame to have to **** you boy, but for the better good of all involved, I’ll do what I gots to do. With that, the three men walked outside, and Billy could hear them talking in hushed tones for what seemed like an hour.  Lester walked back inside alone and said: What’s your name son?  We’ve decided we're taking you with us up the road a piece.  You might come in handy if we need a hostage or someone with local knowledge of the area as we make our way t’wards Preston. Go back to sleep and we’ll wake you in an hour when it’s time to go.

Billy couldn’t sleep. It had been a long day of interrogation and darkness was again approaching.  He heard the men talking outside and from what they were saying, he realized they did all of their traveling at night hiding out in small barns and shacks like this during the light of day. He wondered now if he’d ever see home again.  He wondered even more about his previous decision to fight for the South.

In an hour, Lester came in and asked Billy if that was his horse in the stall next to him.  Billy said it was and Lester said: Get him outside, we’re going to load him with the chillens and then be on our way.  When Billy walked outside he saw eight other black people in addition to the three he had previously met.  It was a mother and father and five children all aged between three and eleven.  Lester hoisted the three smallest children up on George’s back, as the other two lined up to walk alongside.  They would make sure that none of the younger ones fell off as they maneuvered their way North through the trees at night.  The mother and father walked quietly behind, as the three large black men led the way with Link scouting up ahead for anything unforeseen.

Just before dawn, Billy recognized where they were.  They were at the end of that farm road he had just come down the day before, but the sign now read in faded letters Hawkins.  Billy looked back at the sign and he could see something written on the back.  As he squinted into the approaching sun, he could see the letters B-I-L-L-E-T-T written of the back of the board.  Billy was now more confused than ever.  Lester told them all to wait in the trees to the left of the farm road, as he took out three small rocks from his pants pocket. The sun was almost up and this was the most dangerous part of their day.

He approached the house slowly and threw the first stone onto the front porch roof — then followed by the second and then the third.  Without any lights being lit, the front door opened and Lester walked inside.  In less than a minute, he was back in the trees and said:  It now OK fo us to makes our way to the barn, where we’s gonna hide for the day.

After they were settled in the five empty stalls, Lester decided who would then take the first watch.  He needed to have two people on watch, one looking outside for approaching strangers and one watching Billy so he wouldn’t try to escape.  What Lester didn’t know was that Billy wasn’t sure he wanted to go anywhere right now and was starting to feel like he was more part of what was going on than any hostage or prisoner.

In another hour, Martha came in with two big baskets of food: Oh I see you have found my young friend Billy, I didn’t know that he worked for the road.  Lester told Martha that he didn’t, and he was still not sure of what to do with him.  Martha just looked down at Billy and smiled. I’m sure you’ll know the right thing to do Lester, and then she walked back outside toward the house. Lester told Billy that Martha was a staple on the Road to Preston and that without her, hundreds, maybe thousands of black slaves would now be dead between Virginia and Delaware.  He then told Billy that Martha was a widow, and both her husband and two sons had been killed recently at the Battle of Bull Run.  They had fought on the Confederate side, but Martha still had never agreed with slavery.  Her husband and sons hadn’t either, but they sympathized with everything else that the South was trying to do.

Billy’s head felt like it wanted to explode.  Here was a woman who had lost everything at the hands of Yankee soldiers and yet was still trying to help runaway slaves achieve freedom as they worked their way through Maryland.  Billy wanted to talk to Martha.  He also wondered who that man was in the field the previous morning when he had stopped to introduce himself.  He was sure at the time it had been Martha’s husband, but now Lester had just said that she was a widow. More than anything though, Billy wanted to talk to Martha!

Billy asked Lester when he returned from his watch if he could go see Martha inside the house.  Lester said: What fer boy, you’s be better off jus sittin quietly in this here barn. Billy told Lester that if he mentioned to Martha that he wanted to see her, he was sure she would know why and then agree to talk with him.  Lester said: I’ll think on it boy, now go get ya some sleep.  Oh by the way, did you get somethin to eat?  Matha’s biscuits are the best you’ll ever taste.  Billy said, Yes, and then tried to lie down and go to sleep.  His mind stayed restless though and he knew deep in his heart, and in a way he couldn’t explain, that Martha held the answer he was desperately in need of.

In about two more hours Martha returned with more food.  She wanted to dispense it among the children first, but three were still sleeping so she wrapped theirs and put it beside them where they lay.  After feeding the adults, she walked over to Billy and said: Would you help me carry the baskets back up to the house? Billy looked at Lester and he just nodded his head.  On the way back to the house Martha said: I understand you want to talk to me. I knew I should have talked with you before, but you were in such a hurry we never got the chance.  Let’s go inside and sit down while I prepare the final meal.

Martha then explained to Billy that she had been raised in Philadelphia.  She had met her husband while on a trip to Baltimore one summer to visit relatives.  Her husband had been working on a fishing boat docked in Londontown just south of Baltimore.  It was love at first sight, and they were married within three weeks.  Martha had only been back to Philadelphia twice since then to attend the funerals of both of her parents.  She then told Billy what a tragedy this new war was on the face of America … with brother fighting brother, and in some cases, fathers fighting their own sons. It not only divides us as a nation, but divides thousands of families, especially those along the Mason-Dixon line where our farm is located now.

She also told Billy her name was Billett, but they used Hawkins at night as the name of her Railway Stop along the Road. Hawkins was Martha’s maiden name and to her knowledge was not well known in these parts. Hawkins was also the name distributed throughout the South to runaway slaves who were trying to make their way North. Martha felt that if they were looking for someone in her area named Hawkins, they would have a hard time tracing it back to her.  The Courthouse that she and her husband had been married in burned down over fifteen years ago and all records of births, deaths, and marriages, had been consumed by that fire.

By reversing the sign at night to Hawkins, it allowed the runaway slaves to find her in the darkness while protecting her identity in the event that they were caught.  Under questioning, they might give up the name Hawkins while having no knowledge of the name Billett which in these parts was well known. Martha also told Billy that she had nothing left to lose now except her dignity and pride.  Her two sons and husband had been taken at Bull Run and now all she wanted was for the war to end and for those living imprisoned in slavery to be set free and released. Her dignity and pride forced her to try and do everything she could to help.

When Billy asked Martha … How did you know the right thing to do? she said: The right thing is already planted there deep inside you.  All that’s required is for you to be totally honest with yourself to know the answer.  Martha then turned back to her cooking.

Lester then walked into the kitchen and said: Martha Ma’m, what’s we gonna do wit dis boy?  Martha only looked at Billy and smiled as she said, Lester, this boy’s gonna do just fine.  Lester then looked at Billy and said: Somethin you wanta say to me son? Billy asked if he could go feed his horse and then come back in a few minutes.  Lester said that he could but not to take too long.

When Billy walked back into the barn, George was tied to a wall cleat in the far left corner.  He walked him out to the water trough in the dark and then back inside where he gave him another half- bucket of oats.  He looked in George’s eyes for that surety that George always had about him.  Just as he started to look away, George ****** up his head and looked to his left.  The youngest of the black children was walking toward George with something in her hand.  She was with her older sister, and she was carrying an apple — an apple for George. George took the apple from her hand as he nudged the side of her face with his nose.  Billy looked at the scene, and, in the moment’s revelation, knew instantly the right thing for him to do.

Billy went back inside where Lester and Martha were drinking coffee by the fire.  Billy told Lester that NOBODY knew these backwaters like he and his brothers. He also told Lester that by joining his cause he would never be faced with the possibility of meeting either of his brothers on the field of battle.  This seemed to strike a nerve with Lester who had a brother of his own fighting for the south somewhere in Louisiana.  In Louisiana, many of the black’s were free men and fought under General Nathan Bedford Forrest where they would comport themselves with honor and bravery throughout the entire war.

Billy then told Lester he had never agreed with slavery, and his father had always refused to own them.  This made the work harder on he and his brothers, and some of their neighbors ostracized them for their choice.  Billy said his father didn’t care and told him many times that … No man should ever own another or Lord over him and be able to tell him what he can or cannot do.

Lester then asked Billy what he knew about these backwaters.  Billy said he knew every creek and tributary along the Patuxent River and all the easiest places to get across and get across safely where no one could see.  Lester said they had a friendly ferry across the bay to Taylors Island, but many times the hardest part was getting across the Patuxent to where they were now.  From here, they would then decide whether to go across the bay to Preston or head further North to other friendly stops along the Road to Delaware. Billy said he would be most helpful along those stops further North and on this Western side of the bay as he knew the terrain so well.

For four more years Billy worked out of Martha’s farm hiding and transporting runaway slaves on their way North.  He would make occasional trips back to Bowie to fortify the barn that the Union soldiers had not burned when they torched his house that day.  His family’s barn would become the main Railroad Stop before taking those last steps to freedom that lay just 100 miles beyond in the free state of Delaware.

After reconstruction, Billy went on to become a lawyer and then a judge in Calvert County Maryland.  Martha had left Billy the farm in her will, and he now used it as a haven for black people who were freely emigrating from the south and needed a place to stay and rest before continuing on to the Industrial cities of the northeast.

When Martha was dying, Billy asked her who that mysterious farmer was that was out tending her field that morning when he first stopped by so many years ago? Martha said:Why don’t you know; that was my father, Ethan Hawkins. He worked that field every day since my husband and two boys were killed.  I’m surprised he let you see him.  I thought I was the only one who ever knew he was there.  But, but, but, your father died many years ago I thought.  Martha looked at Billy with those beautiful and gentle eyes and just smiled …

Seeing him that day had changed Billy and the direction
of his life forever, making what seemed like King
Solomon’s choice — the right and only one for him.


Kurt Philip Behm
spysgrandson Aug 2016
in a stadium,
in the nosebleed seats,
a lemon rind moon was all the light we had
when the city lost power

the crowd murmured, impatient
for the carnage to continue, players knelt
on the turf; their coach-gods commanded,
Let their be light!

I rose to leave, when I heard them
a canine symphony from jackals who escaped
the ranchers' sights, the dumb traps,
taunting us, the light seekers

who knew not how to comport
ourselves without electric diversion, without
staged battles, while they roamed the dark,
snouts angled towards a charcoal sky

sharing song and scent, sentient though not
like we, but content to be yip yapping in the autumn night
while we lamented the lack of light, and yearned yet
for different blood
a couch poem--written on my phone while watching the Dallas Cowboys get beat by LA
Kimbowa Ali Oct 2020
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Jon Shierling  Feb 2015
Skins
Jon Shierling Feb 2015
Symbols of personal myth,
your transient biography
etched into your bare back.

Weeping burning tears
into long cold ashes
as if to rekindle the sacred.

****** footprints in the sand
accompany the path of
selves shed on your journey.

Take this breath from my chest
and take this flame from my hand
find yourself again in the circle.

There lay the skins of lions,
and the grey mantle of wolves;
comport yourself in them
and dance once again.
Nat Lipstadt May 2024
The River ("Every artist was first an amateur…")

rank, rank, rank ~ a word of multivariate meanings,
too many with hints of degrading nefariousness,
know
this
then:

the river we write upon, invites from all shores, enter!
where and when you will, let the current carry, or with
intent serious, furious paddle along side the rest of us
permanent beginners,

because each time we start to compose, all that we we
have composed before, is just loam, soil from to sprout anew,
no prior ordering survives, we begin as fumbling rank
beginners, amateurs, starting first and then over and over again
for each start
is not a statistically significant event, difference, indeed, it is clarity of challenge, search, and the joy to destroy, in order to be of finding,
it is same for one and for all,
we all are ranked, the same, first time amateurs…

so I bid you: run, get wet, welcome disasters, crumple too many
first drafts, BUT be ready when the ah ha period!
a gasp confirms: competed, satisfaction guaranteed…

it doesn’t query qualifications for quality is
yours to discern, yours to differentiate, yours to  own,
to give away freely in abundance, nor does quality be an enquirer,
doesn’t ask what are your bona fides
your good sides,  
just
to
bring and borrow,
impart and deport,
take us by surprise,
comfort and comport,
leaving behind outside a
crumb trail to make us follow
you to the coveted inside of that mystery
inner tube within that brain of yours that
roundly supports all of us ever lusting
for
just one…more




12:32 PM
Sabbath
May 25
2024

S.I.
tee2emm Apr 2015
Perusing through my thoughts
Such a herculean work
I stumbled on the need to grow
Yes grow, but how? Another stumbling block.

Searching through the pages of time
Yet uncertain what I find
This mountain is for the clime
This mountain of piled thoughts over time

Confined to this cushioned couch
Couch of sham comfort
Never felt so comfy and proud
Thus the alteration in my comport.

I have flown
Yes call me a clown
But I know I've flown
Dreams were the wings
So cute a pair they set you so height flying.

I am looking for myself
Though there in the Mirror
All I see is a mess
But I'm en route the redress.

Find yourself first
And you have found all else.
Julian May 2023
BALMORALITY OF GEOCARPY WEBBED FEET ANOINT AT THE TRIDENT OF POSEIDON SEES THE OLIVASTER MOULIN VEES OF  VARSAL GESTALT SALVATION AS CORNERSTONE CAPSTONES OF ARCHAIC ANTIQUITY BLEATING IN ANTEBELLUM FORESIGHT THE BLARING AMPHIGORY OF A THOUSAND TASTES OF LEPIDINE RAGMATICAL RANCOR DISSOLUTE ONLY IN ITS FORMULAIC WELKINS BY WALLFISH FREEBOOTERS CONSTELLATED BY THE STELLION STANCHION WHELVES ARMADA THAT SPARTANISM OF RENEWED POST-MODERN ****** CAN NEVER USE THERMOLYSIS IN THE SECRET ESOTERIC ARTS OF NIDAMENTAL NANOTECHNOLOGY THE FUTURE WIREWOVEN BELLETRIST OF ENCEPHALIZATION QUOTIENTS WIREDRAWN OVER HYPERBOLES OF MASCON GEOCARPY BECAUSE OF GEROSCOPY AND SENICIDE AMONG MANY A SPATHODEA ENLIGHTENED BY GHOST DANCE PERIBLEBSIS IN WILD WEST BILL CODY’S DAYDREAMS OF PRANCING NORDIC FLUMINOUS STREAMS OF DIVULGENCE OF RIVULATION FOR RUDENTURE IN JASPERATED JESUITICAL JARVEYS OF RECONAISSANCE OF THE TIGHT-LIPPED ALWAYS PHILANDERING WITH FIDELITY TO THE CLEPSAMMIA OF THE DEEPEST VEESES FOR THE MEHARIS OF MELLIFEROUS SPRITES OF OREAD DEMIURGES IN ZENKIDU BECAUSE OF DREDGED BEACHES AT THE EDGE OF TOMORROW BEATIFYING THE PRIMIPARAS OF INGENUITY LOLLOPED UPON THE QUEEN OF OSIRIS AND THE LAVADERO OF SET BECAUSE IN THE INTERRAMIFICATIONS OF SKELDER AMONG THE SKERRY THAT EXISTS BORDERING AN ATLANTIAN TRAVESTY BEMOANED BY BECHIC BEBLUBBERED INCONTINENCE OF LABORIOUS BEINGS OF SUFFRAGE AND TEETOTALER PREROGATIVES OF THE OCTAGON BENEATH THE VERY STREETS OF PALTRIPOLITAN SCHOENABATIC BARCAROLES AND CREMATION OF CARE BOHEMIAS THAT SPAWNED THE MYSTICISM OF PSEPHITIC PSEPHOLOGY BASED PRIMARILY ON BLESBOK CONTINUITY AGAINST TERMINAL TERMINUS THAT SHEATHES THE APPARATUS OF DIDDICOYS SPRAUNCY AND SPRUNG FROM EVERY GALVANIC TEMPLE INTO THE VOLTAIC PILES OF THE  ARENAIDAN SECRECY OF SUMPTER NOW DISTRAUGHT ABOUT THE NUCLEOTIDES OF SUNBITTERN OILERS WHOSE CARAPACE ANNIHILATES THE IONIZATION OF IATRALIPTIC MALFEASANCE REGISTERED AS YOUTHQUAKES OF YESTERTEMPEST BECAUSE OF YENTAS OF YUAN DENYING THE LACQUER AND EXCHEQUER OF JAPAN MIGHT WE CONVENE A BETHEL AGAINST EXORCISM AND MIGHT WE FIND THE FOSSORS OF A GUARDED TRUST OF FRATERNAL LAMBENT LIGHT OF THE NINE MUSES TRAPPED IN AEGEAN DRYGULCH BECAUSE OF THE LABYRINTHIAN PROWESS OF THOSE THAT BURROLED THE CONTRAPLEX TAMARAWS OF ALL DESTINY UPON THE SIPHON OF LATRIA BECOMING THE BANNER OF AGGIORNAMENTO BEYOND APARTHEID IN KNIGHTED SECRECY BECAUSE OF BROCKFACED ZUGZWANGS OF SCHWERPUNKT AND THE DEEPEST SALINE RESERVES OF AN INTERNATIONAL ORDER FOUNDERING IN ANTIQUITY OF EXACT SYCOMANCY BUT PARADED IN THE MARATHON CEREMONIES OF HALICARNASSUS AND ITS COAST GUARD YOUTH AUXILIARY FIGHTING THE PUNJABS TO STALEMATE AND FINDING THE MAINOUR THE CULMINATION OF ALL ACUMINATED WARS OF ATTEMPERED ASTRINGENT ATTINGENT PLEROMORPHY IN THE ENCEPHALIZATION OF ANTIQUITY TO THE DIVINE WILL OF ALEXANDER’S KOWTOW AND THE DEMISE OF ANCIENT CATAMITES BY THE FLEECED SWORDS OF CREATION RATHER THAN CREATIONISM IN THE SHALLOP OF SWASHBUCKLERS STALLED IN STALWART TIMES AGAINST INSUPERABLE ODDS BUT BY THE POWER OF CRYPTODYNAMISM IN THE ERA BEFORE PHILOTECHNICAL REVOLUTION AND THE MONOCULUS OF THE SEPHIROTH MIGHT THE BARNSTORM THESE DAYS BE BRAZEN AS A SERPENT PATROLLING THE PROMENADE OF LUXOR AND THE QUAKY REAL MADRID BRADYSEISM OF GUARDED DELTAS AND THE JERBOAS THAT FLAUNT AGAINST THIGMOTAXIS AN ABILITY TO CONGEAL AND COAGULATE COMMUNITIES THROUGH TAPESTRY AND TALENT MET SQUARE WITH “MARS VOLTA” LEXICOGRAPHY THAT EAVESDROPS LIKE A VANGERMYTE VAMPIRE ASSOCIATING WITH A JAPANESE ARMADA’S SYMBOLIC EMBLEM TO A MEJII RESTORATION WORTH DISCUSSING IN A CASEMATE STOKEHOLD BRITSKA DOOMSTER ECONOMY POISED FOR REVALORIZATION OF ALL ELEMENTS OF THE CRAFT SUBLIMINAL IN OBSCURE HINTS ABOUT THE SPELEOTHEM OF NEOTTIOUS SECRETS MOST EXCELLENT MASTERS WOULD NEVER DISCLOSE AT THE PERIL OF THEIR AVIZANDUM OF SENNET AND THEIR GUARDED THEATRICS OF RIGMAROLE AROUND THE GALLOPING HORSEMEN OF PROVENANCE AND PROVIDENCE FOR MANIFEST DESTINY AND THE FREER REPUBLICS TO EXCAVATE OVER AND OVER AGAIN THE SAME APOTHEGMS THAT BLACKGUARD THE SOCKDOLAGERS OF OBSCURE REVELATION SUCH THAT THE HYPERBOREAN CATALFALQUES WHO WITH DISMISSIVE LOUR AND FEALTY DESIGN AND DESIGNATE ABRAXAS ABOVE MATRIOTISM AND HONOR BEFORE VALOR THE GRAVE MISTAKE OF THOSE WHO DIG THE VERY GRAVES THEMSELVES IN OSSIFICATION OF BRONZED BEASTS OF SERPENTINE MYTHOLOGY OF AURIFEROUS JOLLYBOATS FROM TURPENTINE TIMES OF SMARDAGINE REGARDS FOR THE CODEX AND TESTUDO BRACKISH IN INTEMERATION OF A EUHEMERIST CHRISTIANITY THAT RECOGNIZES THE PLIGHT OF THE GODS OF OLD AND THE HISTORICITY OF STRUGGLE SEPTIFEROUS IN DEGREES OF SEPARATION FROM DIVINE LIGHT AND THE ANGLE OF THE SACRED FIRES OF “THE PLEASUREDOME” WHERE MEMPHIS RITES ARE DEALT LIKE DRUGS AND RAMPANT SKULLDUGGERY FOMENTS THE CAFE AND THE SALON INTO A FRENZY ABOUT FUTURITION IN THE NEGOTIOSITY OF NEGOCIANTS OF SUBLIME MASTERWORKS YET WRITTEN BY THE ADEPT HANDS OF BELLETRIST FOR THE RUPESTRIAN ACCORDION ZEAL OF THE FEWER PIONEERS OF HYPOGEIODY WITH THE GALL TO STAND PROMINENT AGAINST SVEDBERG TO LIBERATE THE NOSEBAG NOSTRUM OF SCARAMOUCHES OF AGGIORNAMENTO DERIVED FROM THE TRIBESMAN OF THE DISAGIO REGULA AND REGULATION BECAUSE OF SWARTHY ENMITY AMONG SPRINGHARE NOILS OF CRYPTODYNAMISM UNSPOKEN AND INEFFABLE TO A WIDER AUDIENCE OF ASPIRING APPRENTICES OF THE CRAFT OF A KRAFT CHEESE BOONDOGGLE SO DARING IN ITS PSITTACISTS OF GENERATIVE PRE-PROGRAMMED NETWORKS THAT THE APOGEE OF OUR CIVILIZATION IS ALWAYS CURTAILED BY THE CURGLAFF OF PRODIGAL SONS ENSNARED BY PEDERASTY RATHER THAN DOCILE IN HETERONORMATIVE DIRECTIVES OF RESCRIPT FOR THE VARIOUS PRESBYTERIES DISTANCING THEMSELVES FROM THE EQUIPOISE OF CRIME TO PUNISHMENT BUT ALSO TO LASSO A ZEAL FOR PRIMIGENIAL VARDLES OF SOVENANCE AND THEIR ENCOUNTER WITH STELLAR SPECTRUM DERIVED FROM PHASMOPHOBIA BECAUSE OF THE LURCHING TYRANTS OF FAMIGERATION EVEN IN THEIR CABOTAGE MIGHT THEY SAIL LAVEERING AGAINST HEADWINDS OF CATASTROPHISM AND MAXIMALISM BOTH CONVENTICLES OF A QUACKERY OF CHARLATAN ORDERS WHO DEBATE ENDLESSLY OVER SYCOMANCY ONLY TO FIND THEIR FAFFLE INCONSEQUENTIAL IN THE SIGHT OF THE ABRAXAS OF ABAXIAL ANACHORIC TREASURES OF THE EXODUS THAT PARENTS THE FIRSTBORN RATHER THAN TURNS THEIR NIDOR INTO NEPIONIC ENSLAVEMENT BECAUSE NEITHER AN ENNOMIC DEGREE OR DECREE NOR A CAESARAPROPISM UPON THE EARTH FORMIDABLE IN NOMOGENY BECAUSE OF THE SLIPSLOP OF SLICKENSLIDE CLOTURE AND CLOUT OF THE GENEROSITY OF MIKE BOSSY BOSE PRIOR TO THE INVENTION OF BASS ITSELF AND BEFORE ACID HAD ITS PROMENADE HEYDAY ON THE STREETS OF INTERNATIONAL ACCORD RECUPERATING FROM DEVASTATING CONFLAGRATION A RECUMBENTIBUS FOR THE SHANGHAIED RIVERS THAT FLOW FROM COAST TO COAST AND THE MOUNTAINS THAT TOWER ABOVE SPHACELATED ARTIFICE TO DISCOVER SPIRACULATED WISDOM IS SOPHROSYNE AND MODEST IN TEMPERAMENT LIKE THE READY PLAYER ONE ACQUEST FOR PALATABLE CONTROL OF CEPHALIGATION YET INVENTED BUT ALWAYS DISCLOSED AGAINST THE SUMPTER OF FETED AND FATED TRAPEZES OF THE LOST ARTS OF THE LOST COVENANTS AMONG MEN AND AMONG THEIR FRONT-RANK REAR-GUARD TUMESCENT TONGUE TONGUE-TIED BY MATHEMATICISM TOO LENIENT TO EXPOSE THE TRICKERY OF THE RETINA NOR THE RETINACULUM OF THE GARDENS POISONED BY CHINA WHITE RATHER THAN CHINA AS WE SASHAY INDIRECTLY FROM LONGINIQUITY OF INSULAR BASTIONS OF FORTIFIED ROORBACKS OF PREHISTORIC MERIT AND ABDERVINE MOVEMENTS CONVERGENT UPON THE OMPHALISM OF SOCRATIC PROMACHOS LIVING IN THE CLIFFS OF DOVER (A MISNOMER THAT FEW MASONS WILL UNDERSTAND) BECAUSE WHEN WE FLOUT THE SPANISH ARMADA AND  DISCOVER THE TRIBULOID LIES OF BERLINE SYNCOPATION OF HETEROCHRONY WE FREE OURSELVES TO SEE A FORDED RIVER NEVER BOLDER AND A MAGICAL RECIPE ALWAYS PROSCRIBED. LET THE MYSTICISM OF OUR AGE HEARKEN THE PARAGONS OF ANCIENT GREECE AND THEIR COUNTERPARTS IN ROME WHO OVERSAW A WORLD IGNORANT TO THE ISRAELI COVENANT AND WORLDS APART FROM “THE GIRL IS MINE” JOCKEYING JOCKOS OF JESUITICAL JANIZARY AFFILIATION THAT PREFER TO BURY THEIR SECRETS TO SUCH  A GREAT DEPTH OF BAROMETRIC PRESSURE THAT FEW FORCES ARE HERCULEAN ENOUGH TO DISCOVER THE LITURGY OF THE SECRET RITES AND THE VAULTED PRESERVATION OF THE OLIVASTERS OF FORMER DAYS THAT STILL SURVIVE UNALTERED IN A WORLD GOVERNED BY A RESOURCEFULNESS IN BOTH REPUBLICS AND AUTOCRACIES BECAUSE THE SYBOTIC SONDAGE OF THE TURTLEBACK IS THE SIGNATORY SLAVERY OF CHAVISH AMONG THOSE THAT CAROM PROFOUND TRUTHS IN TWADDLED DISMAY FOR MAYDAY CONFLAGRATIONS OF RAPID EMERGENCE AND IMMERGENCE INTO AN ORDER OF SOCIETY OF ISONOMY AND IXIODIC RESIDUE OF THE CORTEGES THAT ARE ENUMERATED ONLY AT THE BEHEST OF THE VERY FEW THAT THE PROPER NAMES AT ANY MASONIC LODGE ARE NEVER PUBLICLY SPOKEN AMONG THE FELLOWCRAFT BECAUSE ONLY THE TRUEST MASTER MASONS DESERVE TO KNOW HOW OUR PAST IS AN EISOPTROPHOBIA AND OUR FUTURE IS AN EISOPTROMANIA BUT DON’T BELONG TO THE PHASMOPHOBES AGAINST THE GHOST DANCE NOR PARALYZED BY THE PRIVILEGE OF VENOSTASIS AND NEVER ACCUSE ANOTHER MASON OF RHEOTAXIS IF HIS UPRIGHT APRON AND HIS WAMPUM BRACELET STARRING THANKSGIVING MEGACERINE MELEAGRINE STERQUILINIAN ARTIFICE THAT HAS CORRUPTED THE ROT OF PENTAPOLISES DEFEATED ONLY BY THE INGENUITY OF THE RURAL SATELLITES TO ORBIT IN SECRECY AND VALOR TO SUSTAIN THE REPUBLIC AND SCAVENGE LIKE NEOPHRONS IN MEMPHIS TENNESSEE JUST AS MUCH AS MEMPHIS EGYPT THE TRUE NECKLACES THAT COMPORT SOLEMN GIFTS IN GRAFT TO THE HARANGUE OF DISTANT PRESIDENTS BEFORE OUR TIME HANDICAPPED NEVER BY FORESIGHT BUT BY CULPABLE NOMOGRAPHY CREATING A DIESTRUS OF THE SACRED FIRES AND THE SACRILEGE OF ALEXANDRIA BESET BY THE ASPS BITE AND THE DESTRUCTIVE ALLEGIANCE OF CHUCKY AGAINST THE WISDOM OF THE WIDEST POSSIBLE VARSAL PERSPECTIVE OF HUMAN GEOSELENIC AFFAIRS IMAGINED BY THE SCRIVELLOS OF MEN OR THE ONOLATRY OF PALM SUNDAY COLTS RIDING DONKEYS TO PISCIFAUNA AGAINST NEW JERSEY DEVILED EDISONS WHO IN DISHONOR BUT ELITE GRAFT BECAME A FORMIDABLE LOCOMOTIVE OF INDUSTRIALIZED GALVINIZATION BECAUSE OF THE NAUCLATIC PACTS OF PEACE UNDERGIRDING THE GRANNARY GRAVAMEN IN THE BIG DIG BARTONS SWASHBUCKLING WITH RANCOR IN RANCID TRUCULENCE AMONG THE HISTORICITY OF A NEW ENGLAND TROLLOP OF DESICCATION IN A MAIDAN LAND OF ESBATS PERSECUTED BECAUSE OF FRENCH EMIGRATION THE EXODUS OF FORMER WARS MIGHT THEIR CRUCIBLE BE THE LITMUS TEST OF THE LIMITS OF OUR NEWFOUND CHRISTIAN EUHEMERISM AS WE LEARN THE CONVERGENCE OF THE CUNEIFORM CODEX AND THE LEVERAGE OF AUTOMATION FOR AUTOMATONS SILKALINE IN PRESTIGE AND GUZZLED BY THE GLAMOUR OF REPARTEE IN STAGED DOWNFALL AND STARLET MUSES OF ATHENAEUM AGAINST THE HEBENONS OF WAYSPAYED MULIEBRITY FIGHTING A WEGOTIST WAR AGAINST THE SOVENANCE OF TURNVEREINS OF TRUTH THAT ARE THE TORCHIERS OF THE AGES SUNKEN IN HARBORS AND ELEVATED IN INTREPID COURAGE AMONG THE HIGHEST PEAKS AND THE MOST PROFOUND DEPTHS OF HUMAN IMAGINATION FOR CAGOULES TO WHIMPER IN THEIR WHIFFETS OF BORTS THAT BECOME THE SATINETS PRIMARY OBSESSION WITH REGAL MATTERS PERTAINING TO EL PASO COUNTY INVITATIONS TO A BRIGHTER MORE PROSPEROUS FUTURE OF FORESIGHT AND GENIUS GILDED BY THE MATRIOTISM OF ALL CONVEX TIMES ANGLED DOWN IN AAONMS GRADGRINDS WHO PARSE THE PARSECS THAT SEPARATE US FROM THE COMMODORES BECAUSE THE SLEEK HINTS OF INTIMATION ESCAPE REVIEW BECAUSE THE BRONTEUM OF ALL SINECURES OF SYNCLASTIC TRUTH FAVOR THE UNDEFEATED STREAKS OF SPRAWLING ARCADES AND GLORIFIED STATUETTES SPIRALLING IN VERTIGINOUS DANCES AROUND THE TEMPLES OF PARIS TELEGRAPHED BY THE NOBILITY OF BUTCHERED LUKEWARM TAUNTS AGAINST THE BELLETRIST OF PROVINCIAL FOREIGNERS GIFTED WITH TURQUOIS VIOLENCE AND PURPLE REIGN THAT  ANOINTS EVERY GENERATION ABOVE ITS PEDIGREE AND FINDS THE 17 HORNS BLOWING TO BE LESS OF A KNELLED NUISANCE AND MORE OF A GRAVID DISCOVERY OF INCUBATIONS AND WEATHERBOARDS OF METEORIC SHAMBLES SPIRACULATED IN SAUNA DEPTHS OF BRACKISH CATADROMOUS GOLDMINERS WHO PARLAY THE BEST OF TWO BETS UPON THE PAXILLOSE TRAVESTY OF WOODED COCARDENS WHICH WALLOP EVERY JALEO OF STEVEDORES BECAUSE OF THEIR HANDSPIKE JARABES OF BAISEMAN AND COMPASS AIMING TRUE NORTH AWAY FROM THE LUNACY OF SOUTH PARK TURGID TURMOIL OF TELAESTHESIA IN THE FORMATIVE DURESS OF THE CONATION OF THE GREATEST OF PEAKS ESTABLISHED BY THE SPIKENARDS AND IRENARCHS OF THE GREATEST OF SUBTLETIES BECAUSE THE GILD OF SIRIUS RADIO AND THE SUBTERRANEAN MASKIROVKA OF WHIGGARCHY FIGHTING WITH SEMPERVIRENT TIMBERLASK GLOCHIDATE PUNITIVE RAISONNEURS MIGHT THEY ALL DEVISE WAYS TO SEE THE SYRINX OF THE EMBEDDED GALLANTRY OF DISASTERS THAT TURNED ICE INTO WATER AND THE CHEMISTRY THAT TURNS WATER INTO THE MOST RAREFIED WINE. SOME MIGHT ACCUSE THE ***** OF SABOTAGE IN HIS DEFECTED RECORDS SPREE OF  CEREAL KILLER DEMIURGES FOR THE FREEBOOTERS OF MANY A PRISON YET LIBERATED BY THE ELEUTHEROPOMANIA OF CACOETHES OF KANTIKOY IN THE MEGALOGRAPHY OF MANY GENERATIONS. WE ENTERTAIN A DIVERSE ARCADE IN ARCADIA BECAUSE THE BEHEST OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE ANCIENTS IS A QUIBBLE OF EPHESIANS TRYING THEIR BEST TO GAMBOL THEIR WAY INTO NUMBATS OF THE GREATEST VIRTUOSITY BEAMING AND BEAMISH OF FATIDICAL RESIGNATION OF THE MOFUSSIL TRIAD TRIAGE OF SUMPTERS OF SCURFY SCRAP METAL EMBEDDED IN THE RICHES OF THE CALUMET MOUNTAINS MOUNTED BY MOUNTEBANK QUARTERBACKS OF SIMPATICO RATHER THAN REVANCHE REGELATION PRIMARY TO THE COLOR-CODED SMARDAGINE PROVENANCE OF ALL PROVIDENTIAL MEN SERVING THE GLORY OF GRAND ARCHITECTS OF THE LOST SERENADE AGAINST JIMSWINGERS OF URBACIOUS AND ULMACEOUS POVERTY AGAINST TEXAS (VERY OBSCURE HINT YOU WON’T FIGURE IT OUT) BECAUSE THE GOLDEN BADGE OF THE HONOR OF A NEWFOUND WAPENTAKE DECIDED DECISIVELY BY A NETHERLANDS SPRITE FINESSING MORAL FIBER AND RECOILING IN TRAMONTANE GILDS THAT ANTICIPATE WITH ARCEATE OCREATED FASHIONS KNEADED TOWARDS A SELF-FULFILLING BELL MIGHT THE APPROPRIATION OF THE TACO BY THE CRACKLING THUNDER OF CACOMISTLES AND CREAKY CREANCERS OF CLITTER RATHER THAN CETACEAN CLOTURE BECAUSE THE RUNAGATE PERSECUTIONS OF PURITAN PILGRIMMAGE ARE DESOLATE WASTELANDS OF IMPROPER DECORUM FOR WARBLING TILTS OF RUMOR AND ROORBACK TO ZEPHYR THEIR WAY FROM THE VERSAILLES TO THE WALDOLF ASTORIA (OBSCURE HINT) BECAUSE OF THE SAD SPATTEES OF THE REAL-LIFE HINDENBURG WHICH SAILED TOWARDS AN UNFORESEEN CONVALESCENCE RATHER THAN A QUAGMIRE OF QUAHOG INFAMY RETICULATED VERY DEFTLY AND WITH ABARTICULAR VENGEANCE THE NEWER VENDETTAS OF EBBERMAN TRYING TO SECURE THE OBELIZATION OF OBELISKS ONLY TO TITANISM RATHER THAN TO SELF-REALIZATION OF A CELLULAR WORLD BUILT ON SILKALINE SATINETS TO PERUSE THE SALON AND CRAVENLY RIVET EVERY SUBSIDIARY ECONOMY TO THE LEVERAGE OF NEW WORLD CONQUEST MEETING OLD WORLD ASTROLOGY BECAUSE MYTHS OF DWARVES AND TITANS MARK THE ESCHATOLOGY OF “24K MAGIC” BECAUSE WE WANDER AGAINST WASMS OF WOODSHEDDING TO THE PARVENUS OF THE ARRIVISTE IVORY RATHER THAN THE COUNTERFEITER IVORRIDE OF BRAWNY RASP AND SIDEREAL ACCORD TO THE ZITHER AND FLUTE OF THE NINE SISTERS LOUD ENOUGH IN THEIR BLATTERNOPHONES THAT THEY AWAKENED THE ENLIGHTENED AGE THAT ONCE ONLY SKIRMISHED LIKE TIGERS ROARING IN TUBIFACIENT DELIRIUM MIGHT THEY CHANCE UPON THE BORTS EMBEDDED DEEP WITHIN THE SUBTEXT OF ARTEMIS AND THE CONQUEST OF THE PUNJAB BY THE ABEYANCE OF ROERICH BECAUSE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY ZEAL OF ALL-SEEING-EYE PREROGATIVES SWAMPY AND SCAPPLED AROUND RECIPIANGLES OF RECTANGULAR OBLATION AND NUTATION IN IMMATERIAL METEMPERICAL PHILOSOPHY OF UNNATURAL LAWS OF SARANGOUSTY AGAINST THE SCHMEGGEGY OF THE AGGRY AND AGRARIAN PERSIAN KNIGHTS WHO USED THE BRITSKA MAGI AND THE WISE SERVANTS OF THE KINGDOM OF THE NORTH AGAINST THE KINGDOM OF THE SOUTH TO AVENGE THEIR SEPARATE PEDIGREES BECAUSE THEY SOUGHT THE IMMORTAL WORD OF AMARANTHINE TRUTH AND THE ANACAMPSEROTE OF VIVID REVETS MIGHT THEY INCUR FEWER WINDS OF DAMAGE IN THE CARCASS OF POMPEII THAT CAESARS REJOICED ABOUT EVEN AT THE CUSP OF CATACLYSM BECAUSE THE SPRINGHARE NOOSES AND NOILS OF NAVES OF NAVARCHY BELONG TO THE SUNDOG JEREMIADS AND TALES OF THE GREATER BULK OF RESIGNATION. WE FIND OURSELVES FLUMMOXED AT THE DEMARCHE OF THE IDES BECAUSE OF THE JALOUSIES AND JEALOUSIES OF THE SCHISM THAT OCCURRED IN VENDETTA FOR QUAKY GROUND AGAINST THEOSOPHIES HOISTING STANLEY CUPS AND STANNARY COPIES OF THE ORIGINAL ARTIFACTS OF GREED AND OPPORTUNISM WHICH FORTIFY ALL MAINLINED  ECONOMIES AGAINST GILVARINGE HEDONISM WHICH SPURTLES ON CATALLACTIC CORDWAINERS WHO SERVE ON THE COUNCIL OF ATHENA BRONZED LIKE ZEUS UPON OLYMPUS MIGHT THESE VERY OBSCURE DETAILS LEAD TO THE WILDEST GOOSE CHASE UNLESS THE REAL GRAVITY OF SLAPSTICK CONFUSION THAT BELIES THE STEPNEY OF STEMSON BY THE STULMS THAT STOPE THE PERIPHERY OF ALL STARS AND THE PENULTIMATE DEGREES OF ALL CARREY ROYALTY TO THE SOCIETY OF THE SCIENCES OF WHITTAWERS THAT PAVED THE WAY FOR MIRACLE ABOVE JUSTICE RATHER THAN TRUMPETED DIKEPHOBIA SWARMING AN OCEAN OF HOLOBENTHIC THINKERS INFORMED OF THIS ZEITGEIST BEYOND THE PURBLIND UMBRILS OF THE PETULANT TEENS WARRING AROUND BEEHIVES OF FLAMBOYANCE BECAUSE OF A MISINTERPRETATION OF THE ALLEGORIES OF PRODIGAL SUNS AND SONS SET FREE BY GREEN-EYED LADY KNOWLEDGE THE GATEWAY TO THE MASTER VARDLE AND THE ACCESSIBILITY OF MOHAWKS WITH FURRY EVAPORATIONS AND THE FEATS OF ANTIQUITY WE CELEBRITIES CELEBRATE WITH ZANYISM AND ZEAL AGAINST THE ZEKS OF PARVANIMITY IN A WORLD STULTIFIED BY ARTICLES OF PRESS AND IMPRIMATUR ABOUT STILTED MECHANISMS OF COVERT VITRAILS OF THE VARSAL PROBABILITIES OF CATACLYSM AGAINST THE ATROCITIES OF ABAXIAL VOLTINISM OF CATASTROPHISM FOR NAGORS AND NACREOUS SECRETS THAT ONLY THE TRIBUNES OF LIGHT AND THE DAWNING ACCORD OF ADVENT AND PARCEL TO THE CONVENIENCE OF ROYALTY IN APANAGE MIGHT WE FAFFLE THROUGH SERVITUDE AND BECOME FEWTERERS OF A MIGHTIER HUMANITY THAT OVERCOMES THE QUIDLIBERTARIANS BECAUSE OF THE BROCKFACED BRONCHOS THAT EXISTS BECAUSE OF BRADYSEISM AND VANDYKES OF WALDFLUTE INDEMNIFICATION OF THE CODED VERSE OF A NEWER NOSTRADAMUS ISSUED WITH HINDSIGHT BETTER THAN A 1001 ARABIAN KNIGHTS BECAUSE THE MAGI OF FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH KNEW THE HUMILITY OF THEIR STATURE BECAUSE OF THE DIVINITY AND GENTILITY OF EPHESIAN VECTIGALS OF EXTRAVAGANCE AND WONDER BECAUSE OF PETRIFIED THUGS LEARNING THE WAYS OF MODERNIZATION THAT THEIR DEAD TEMPLES AROUSE IN THE KNAVERY OF MEN BOTH DEAD AND LIVING. WE MUST ALL UPHOLD THE SINUOUS PEDIGREE OF AARON BURR BECAUSE THE FRIGOLABILE ELEMENTS OF WANCHANCY HAVE A NASTY HABIT OF RECRUDESCENCE AND RECIDIVISM BECAUSE IN SOME CONTRAPLEX RATIOCINATION WE FIND THE CELTIC BRIBE INSUFFICIENT FOR ILASTICAL CREDENDA BECAUSE THE METAGNOMY OF BARAGNOSIS AFFLICTING THE SOPITERS OF REGAL LORE AND LEGEND AND THE MAGNA CARTA REVOLUTION THAT USHERS US TO BIG BENJAMINS AND THE HEAVIEST OF QUANDARIES BRITTLE AT REDSHORT RESONANCE BECAUSE OF NEUTROSOPHY AT NEUTERED DISTANCES OF REGARDANT ARTIFACTS THAT THE PATIENT LIONIZATION OF THE TRUE CONOSSIEURS OF THE THOMAS CROWNE AFFAIR MIGHT FIND THEMSELVES STRANDED BY SUBSIDIARY DETAILS BECAUSE OF THE REGIONAL FANFARE OF LURID TRIUMPH AGAINST LAVISH PROMONTORIES OF CRAGGY  PEDIGREE GROWING INTO LICKERISH LICENSE THAT SPAWNS THE ANACHORIC RHEOTAXIS BECAUSE OF THE VULPECULAR MACROPICIDE OF THE ENTOMBED LOVE AND MOTION OF CINEMATIC TRIAGE AND TRIUMPH OF TRUE MESSIANIC VISION BOLTROPED TO BOLAR CONTINGENCIES OF THE CALVOUS MANY UPSETTING THE MERIT OF THE CHIVALRY OF THE FEW EXCLUDED FROM PRESBYTERY AND SANCTUARY BECAUSE OF INSUFFICIENT MEANS RATHER THAN INSUFFICIENT ENDS TO ACHIEVE ENTELECHY THROUGH AUTOGNOSIS. AMEN

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