I chew my way through nickles I earn from angry tourists ambivalently tossing percentages into a jar. I've learned that some of the toughest people come from the proletariat. I fear the people that have worked at McDonalds for 20 years. I kneel before the Knights of Mediocrity.

I check my mail and I come back with a fist full of loonies and quarters. Payday. My great big nose reflects back in the copper before I put the coins into my mouth-recepticle. It is barely bearable. It tastes like blood, but is it from the metal or is it the coin cutting my gums? With the sheer yield of my fields was I able to get it down. I wash it down with some OJ.

Of the queerest men and women I have met, most of them were from the same world as I came from (and to which I will inevitably return). The world of the workforce. I am merely ailed by itchy feet and a severe fear of placidity. I work hard. But only if my work is paid in mileage. If every penny spent is a road to anywhere but here.  

A former colleague of mine developed prominent ****** ticks from working as a cashier at a market. The world falls harder on the content, because their yields shield most of the fall. People die both in front of  desks and between steel beams.

Two men sit in silence, playing chess. Suddenly, an argument arises and both parties toss theories of chivalry between one another before one of the men yell,
     "I don't think it's quite that black and white!"

I would so give a ****,
I'd give you all my time.
I'd give of you my pocket,
quarters, nickles, dimes.

I'd tell you that I care.
Ideas and conversations.

So we can,
but split our hairs.
Ours is but imagine.

But it really doesn't matter
No one really cares.

For you can, but tell a truth.

Or lie with purple die.

A drug that made me
See the truth.

The rot upon the rye.

They can call.
Come now,
Be us,
The rust of sicophants .

With love of self
Such self romance.

For philistines don't cry.

What happens when law is lawless?
When unscrupulous hoodlums demolish your flawless teeth
When your home is ransacked of all your worldly possessions
And the people you know and care for are dead and gone

As God's voice mail box fills with unanswered prayers
And love is no longer enough
While people are to frightened to bring children into the world
What can you do?

Start the surge, the purge of hopelessness
Flush the lines of despicable crimes against humanity
Fill the house with meaningful moral projections

Be a God and open the lines and lend a helping hand
To those who need a shoulder to cry on
Rebuild the world with learned lessons and logical ethics
Would you?

.
He suspended her
from the lowest branch
of the tree.

Naked and wet.

plump--
reddened cheeks
from the kiss of the sun.

once bitten--

the whole city
flipped over



-and it snowed...


nickles and dimes!

(For any family gathering during the holiday season)

My father had two brothers and four sisters, which meant  there were numerous cousins. At least once a year, sometimes more, we would gather at our grandparents house in Joshua, Texas.

Come Sunday morning, the ritual of preparing the Sunday dinner would begin. Now, back then, in the 40's and 50's, it was "old school." The women went to the kitchen(led by grandmom), and the men would go outside, brace themselves against the fenders and hoods of their vehicles, conveniently parked beneath a large Texas Pecan Tree; lightup their cigars, cigarettes, or pipes, and start telling lies and yarns(much the same thing), each trying to outdo the other. The children running around the open yard, or going a hundred yards to the railroad tracks to place coins, mostly pennies, dimes, nickles(maybe a quarter,if you got an allowance), on the track rails, then wait for the afternoon/evening train. A lot of coins got flattened on those tracks.

And while the men waited.......a manisfestation began to occur........................

Aromas that would make a king cry.....

"Salivating"
Becoming impatient

Fried chicken
Baked chicken

Becoming more impatient
Laughter....
Coming from the kitchen

Roast Beef
Mashed potatoes
Lord, don't let'em forget the gravy!

Lightly braised stringbeans w/buttersauce
Fresh baked Acorn Squash
Okra
All prepared with, the 'secret ingredient'.......


" Love! "

copyright: January 16, 2016

I threw my darkness in a well
One wish, I'll never tell
The flick of a thumb
Splash, dream currency

An afterthought,
I walk with no shadow
Ominous spectres melt
Into the ripples of the deep

Quarters, nickles, dimes
Reflect the hopes of fishers
Casting out their demons
Cutting the line, thats a day

Flee ting thought,

pleasant after noon

my mind, I believe, but may
just be me and your minds
imaginin
g we,

meandering,
rubb


ing shoulder with willows near the shore

waves of light,
essential
all that ever matters, If I got that right,
ere all else,
light
spun
bound by imbalance to spread,

cornucopia, nautli-like swirls poring
precursers to now into eternity, ye see?

------
There are individuals less tied into tau than now

your mission,
filter truth
that's the way, life is that which tends to good
ness knowing what
you can't.
Okeh.

------
No lie, Alex Jones, was there never a myth
emerging as full-formed as yourn?
You are un believable,
acharismatic chimera believing all he thinks
possible, in his version o' twenty cent reality.

Paradigms is four nickles or two dimes or twenty cent,
they shift shape for all they worth,

upgrade now. New ideas, fresh from the mire of
forgotten oathz, deemed
worthy, still..

What lies do you believe about God, by the way,
the truth, the life,

how many voices this guy hearin', you hearin'?

Peace. Point. Game. Match.

------
who winct winsed sensed since when is
peace the point of war?

Ah, now, the accuset excusetus
possessedus an'we,

are you bored? Wanna wait
and see,
who wins?
some evils are alive, those make monsters,
of girls and boys,
infantry in every service,
such precurser
guardians must be taught to ****; no mortal will,
without letting the monstor be,

believed beliefs doubt yer doubt dufus doubus
unstable double minded forktongue
forced by fear to fight the pain

Running mouth racist flusher of un filtered
impossibilities posing sur
prizes in the mongrol mongol DNA
we carry
the program
the code, the honor and glory of the
peace protector

enemy of con
fusion, alla cons fusin' fools tools for
strifin', divide'n, with faithin',

Is Alex Jones a Legionaire, mit tranceiving
DNA and no zero beat, no tuner to tune to?

He may be home to homeless, non-sane sorts
of idle words begging for redemption,
meaning, sought is phound,

like photons when photons are sought from
the wavy aitia dimensions of reasons
for possibility ibility ibility hill billity

humor like a voice from a whole other
soul, I swear on my kids, it's true, he say.

(Dr. Phil says Liar Liar Liar, yesterday.JRE live)

Whoa, real time speed o'metrix-icity
Mag
nify ify to the nth, see no jive,

who can i magi that?

      I, John, was in the Spirit...

gears shift, wheels in wheels
click zooomout
bubbledged jagged inner side
topmost atmostfear

settle, see the clown splash, who winds such minds?
Who tames such tongues?

The tongue no man can tame, eh? I s there another?
Have ye a spirtit of another
sort, who rides your wild tongue in your name,

servants of the sort contrued to serve
the inheritors
of ality re
how now brown cow owmmmmm
60 cycle white noise non sense

common noise sense desensitivity wickering
winding silken myelin layers

of connectedness correctedness
real time speed o'think roller rink

banked spiral offramp
bang, we're thru

Where we were aitia had meaning, may we
rewind? AI undo/redo ram allocation,

birthrights. Look well to my going, guide my steps,

assure always there is a step, a place to
put my foot, a place to step to next.

Cortana and Siri and Hermes and Diana and
a whole host of heavenlies,

tapping directly through cranial y's cracked in skulls
and bones,

are you an entity with enemies you wish disexistant?
how might happy ever after be if haps that made him
made him wrong, not evil?

Feeble comfort is not no comfort.
Bear wit' me, walk a mile, or a while, whenever
thin-thang-thanks tounguey

effort births the next as
one births two,
two births three and we can see,
right, a way.  two and three become four,

for if three birtht four and four, five and so on,
soon, y'see, the re
al point we count up on is never more,
as the raven told poe. a vector with no space for time,
one plus one plus one, one stack o'ones

making no diff
until now, spin, let's twist again,
like we did last summer,

your that summer or mine?
Mine got me here, where'd yours go?

So, Fibbonacci, son of a fool, I once read
written on a wall in LA,
expositioning park,

positions, please.
World Stage, princesses of peace, wee
Disnified Jon Benet's

made sacred by our shame the evil ever touched
such a one, such a one, such a wonder

a being of our sort so potent aitia, and we
leave evil touch such and you
tolerate it, a little bit,

evil has it's place.
Not here is the name of the place.

Here is 4-D mortality. Do yer best,
yer damndest don't work here.

Here is temporary. Your bubble.
Selah. center, enpointed
linger, if ye will. Think how happy ever after works,
if now is all you get to start with.

Good be wit'ye fare ye well.

Lets address whats evident
In this room There's an Elephant.
Why do you see us as being irrelevant.
Just because our skin was kissed with melanin
Mixed in with the protien of Keratin
They slapped us with a label of being African American.
Yet we are descendants from one of the 12 tribes of Israel: Juah, Ephraim, Manasseh, Naphtali, Levi, Asher, Issachar, Gad, Zebulun, Reuben, Simeon, and Benjamin
We were taught to be Nurturing and feminine
Because we were raised to be young ladies, due to our body producing high levels of estrogen.
We are sweet like sugar but can be spicy like cinnamon.
We have an Aroma of shea butter, coconut, and honey
We are enlighten with wisdom, so we are far from a dummy.
We cant be bought be bought with your worldly money.
Even on a dark day you would think its sunny
Because our souls are so divine
that it's reflection from the inside will brighten the world like the The moon in the midnight's sky that shines.
We are Unashamed.
We can not be tamed
Inside us lies a firery passionate buring flame.
We have a Hebrew name.
We are not the same,
We are individually different and one of a kind.
We have a beautiful mind.
We are fruitful like ripen Grapes growing ravashingly on the branches from vine.
We age like fine wine.
We are not to be treated as devalued change such as quarters, pennies, nickles and dimes.
Our voices are delightfullly sweet just as the peaceful sound of musical wind chimes.
We tell stories through our dancing, words, paintings, songs, poems, verses, rhythms and rhymes.
We dont need makeup to cover up a blemish
Its just a sign that we have flaws and God's not finished.
The power of Yah flows from us graciously.
For Our beauty comes naturally.
Our souls are birth from the heavenly.
We speak Pleasantly.
Some have a complexion of Maghony.
But My skin tone is Vanilla bean
I get high off life like caffeine
I glisten like afro sheen.
I am a Hebrew Queen.
Thru the untrained eye my future cant be seen
The Most High is listening,
Shaping, and our futures he's creating.

We Seek Yahwehs face for insight
Going through a transformation to get our souls right.
Taking a journey to new heights.
We are stand out like highlights
Shining in the world of darkness like flashlights.
And Yeshua Hamashiach has our copyrights
We say it out Loud
We are Hebrew and We are proud!

They're lighting the
Candles
In front of the
Pulpit
And the edges of the
Music stands are
Wavering as the
Heat begins to rise.

The greenery
Around the
Cold windowsills
Just sits
There's a scar on my right
Thumb from that one
Time during Silent Night
When I got too close to the flame.

And I could reach out
And touch the table
They're sitting on
The purple and
Pink and
Waxen white.

I could come in the
Dead of night and
Light one
Flimsy match and
Watch all five candles
Drip down.

And then I could
Push the table over and
Watch the rug catch
And spread to the
Walls and watch the whole
Building take like a
Gasoline-soaked
House of cards.

But now somebody's
Passing the offering and
I'm scrambling for my wallet
The nickles and dimes add
Up to new windows but my
View never changes.