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We all get rich, it fixes every thing, c'mon

Initial Public Offering.
Made inclusively to
all the children of all the wombed men,
but one,
by now, none else, for eons, unmarked
save in ashes under ancient tells,
none of these people, these *** of the gods,
and the one,
daughter of man who signed off on this story.

-live forever-

Thinking attracting needs,
deeds done that send funds, to wipe debt from mind.
Bring the wizard,
strip him bare, grind him  to gore and gristle,
bone blood and all the biles, shake it up,
jiggle in the sack of skin, watchit
burst and puddle
in the flame,

is this pyrex? See

Bunsen burning in my brain, a mixture now,
oh wow
Schmachten-burger, cheese, *** of enlightened
hippie jews, shapers shaped in common fashion,
after the sixties finished, there arose guides to the goy
who knew nothing of the mystery,
save that Alice Toklas was not gay, in the Nineties way

Oy-vey, cultural appropriation, Jah, Jah is ours, as you
well know, we have esoterica galore, here buy
a mezuzah, ya, gutglück - all ah, ala phylacteries
raditional-rootish,
and these use that same parchment, goat skin,
very kosher halal and all, done
under strictest supervision, seeing super see, is
something the literate,
Phoenicians, Shem shah-mans, and their accountants,
first
discovered the territory within the skull of man,
was open to other minds,
in matters of wit
inventions'nshit, set a will to a way, watch,

come the future, we are famous…
who invented the wheel?

watch, watch, it winds around, a motion, anchored
to a plain truth in the left cerebral sorting station,
reflecting back,
******-rectumly linearly right co- oh, I see

cor-rect or co-recht, co-right, if nobody's wrong.

But there is no hateful god who made hell for those
who,
honed as honed may be, in punctual efforting
so
sharp, even on thorny issues,
motes
floating in the occular consomme,
slightly briney aqueous humor,

ha

to make a point in time to pierce anything
in my way

see clear,  plumb the depths truth's base idea,
some things wish vehemently to be known,
must-er-ion, quest, ionic tipping
point whence the ring of eight
slips a point, and specs call
ion ion whither went thee?
ion, zion sion, see the gleam,
golden oil,
yes,
yes indeed, I did, I did pray
for this,
or something sorta like it,

peace on earth, good will toward man,
reconciliation complete perceived as done.

Can you hear me?
Did I lose loose links to long lies, left tied
to the stakeholders souls?

When did we realize the difference?
It must have taken years, and now, we see, match
the noses,
the eyes, or deeper even, look into the whites
of their mother's eggs…

see and know, or trust me, I know,
one wombed man's children, one,
the officially loneliest number. One
wom'man, woe,
science,
not Genesis, or Enuma Elish,
or the story from Braiding Sweetgrass,

but, old, old stories, told, once, at least,
by a witness,
-- it was as if the bone and all it was,
was altered, by a bit, a Y got a leg, or lost one,
I do not know, but bone of my bone,
was that one little bit,
more in one way, at the stem, and as branching
began, the one had daughters, who bhor daughters,
while from that generation forward,
the many others,
bore no children of any breathing form,
soon,
for this was not so long ago, mitomom, you know,
she had sisters and cousins and aunts
and a mother who had a mother
and a father who had a mother.
None
of the eggs in those wombs, ever lived to now,
but the eggs of the one wombed man we must
accept, she who shaped all after ever began
that instant when,
only one line remained, and there was no war.
No reason, at the time, but soon
in geo time,
we grew apart, branching on rivers
when we found them on our journeys from the east

- I think she
was likely deep dark brown, she links me to you,
stem cell level
and below,
logos in touch,
the code of silence. A cone, yes, the cone
of silence,
rolled from fool'scap, common in the great leaps
forward,
through the ages, as sons and daughters were born,
but
once,
something occurred,
a virus, or a leaven, or fish, perhaps,
rancid oil while the child waited for its form
to form in the wombed man, now known
as mom. She,
Mitochondrial source of the code that keeps us alive.
The same basic way batteries in blood
have been made since knowing
clickt.

Universes, realms of human reasons, piled in
lattice work bits and pieces,
joints and joiners,
that fit in particular places to form certain shapes
of things to come,
it is all very miniaturized, nano nano scale…

yes, did you know him, Mork?
I never did.

_ he does that so you don't think him arrogant,
ashamed to admit the use of the mind of christ
in a secular win the game way.

But what the hell, knowing ain't cheating, if you know
what's right,

wanna place a wager on the Robinhood IPO?
I gotta plan, see…
we go into such and such a city, we buy, we sell,
---intshallah
but this is the secret,
we sell debt,
you owe me, right, it works, it always works,
give and it is given unto you,
pressed down,
running over -- goods and services, nothing taxable
or tithe-able,
riches with no sorrow, added.

You interested? One time buy in. Two bits.
I heard the news and thought, what difference might a mote in my eye make?
My dear friend please show me
How to act like I know these

Bumbling facades running this place
They’re all fakes that take up the space

Stuck in a whirling fantasy of power and fame
Tucked in a twirling travesty of towers of blame  

That they could never take for themselves
Lingering at the top takes a lot of help

They have gluttonous accounts, that makes all the headlines  
Without the money around it’d be an endless breadline
Ken Pepiton Nov 2020
War is warning of chaos if the dragon is slain,
whathe-el, yes,
god, yes,

we have a myth for for this, for now,
a metaphor, aforethought, it is
that Promethean redemption,
aha, the sun goes down,
let the healing begin,

this is a classic,
not every inspiring thing has origins in a book.
Word, gramma say, way back,

-- reminds me, I put gas in the Prius today,
as I walked in to buy some papers,
in the little store where the
**** bays was, back when I first heard
Johnny Cash, thinking' he was some kinda
man in black, from assorted darkness legends,
I hear him singin'
I fell in to a burnin' rang o' fire, went
down
down,
the flames shot higher…

I was about seven… **** bays was where
hot-rodders and cruisers hung out,
if you grew up on a paved road
to California and Nevada,
at a junction in time and space,
~ 150-170 miles south of all the tests,
same winds that brang rain t' St. George…

The moment, the music, a crossover hit,
hallelujah,
like
-- reminds me,
as I walked in to buy some papers,
in the little store where the
young Chaldean manning the store hears me,
as I -- say, ******* HAHA, as I re-cogitate the first
bars of I walk the line, then I see the
guy behind the sneeze, wall agree,
I love this music, we both say,
and he goes on to say,
I wonder what it was like to be alive
when he was alive…
I swipe my card and say, it was like
being alive when I was alive.
like
-- reminds me,
mark that fact - you spoke to an old man
buying papers, this is the future,
did you never read of the last being first?
the boy bade me have a nice day.
So I did.
Hope springs and springs, stranger things happen. Tigger is a trigger, for me.
Early VHS Pooh in kid's church, 85 times. 32 years ago/ Happy birthday soon, Jenny Rae.
Poetic T Mar 2020
I walked the street,

               I was the lottery,

and when you span the wheel


you were a winner...

Jackpot, you got all the chambers..


And I wept..
Don't judge, ladies sell there worth that isn't a worth.. but a tear every time
they have to give what shouldn't be given... but there kids are feed but be  ashamed
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Indestructible, for Johnny Cash
by Michael R. Burch

What is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash is gone,
black from his hair to his bootheels.

Can a man out-endure mountains’ stone
if his songs lift us closer to heaven?
Can the steel in his voice vibrate on
till his words are our manna and leaven?

Then sing, all you mountains of stone,
with the rasp of his voice, and the gravel.
Let the twang of thumbed steel lead us home
through these weary dark ways all men travel.

For what is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash lives on—
black from his hair to his bootheels.

Originally published by Strong Verse. When I was a teenager Johnny Cash used to pop into the Nashville McDonald’s where I worked to buy burgers after the Grand Ole Opry let out. True to his nickname, the Man in Black always wore black. I think he’s as immortal now as human beings can become, since someone will be singing songs he wrote and and recorded till the end of time. Keywords/Tags: Johnny Cash, black, hair, clothes, boots, voice, rasp, gravel, steel, guitar, songs, music, mountain, stone, heaven, manna, leaven
Jordan Hudson Sep 2019
Gold shades, gold watch, exhuast go pop
Living up top, rich kid on the block
Can't be stopped, stop, that's what I thought
Cash in my hand, coins on the ground
Lost and found, hear that sound, clank
Higher rank, I'm the one with the loaded bank
Cha ching big old wing skkrt out the dirt
Mark that ground, mark my spot
I rich, you not
Pull out the lot
Spin the ride and take that drive
Rock that coupe and park and slide
Skrrt, yeah, skrrt
Parked
Get out the car, look at the marks
It ain't that far
Inside the mall, flex what you got
I'll rock this gold until I rot
Pay all cash credit no need
Stay and stash, cash I am free
Muffler delete
Skrrt
Yeah
This cash lead to a ballout
My stash fall to the floor
Making money is what I'm about
Get some more, knock on the door
Buy out the Gucci store
I'm not poor, get that case
Take that **** out, we gonna buy this place
Aye
Mad at me cuz I be flexin
Marriot hotel checked in
Then I get the cash
Rolls and the Jag
I left and now I am back
Yeah Yeah
Gold shades, gold watch, exhuast go pop
Living up top, rich kid on the block
Can't be stopped, stop, that's what I thought
Cash in my hand, coins on the ground
Lost and found, hear that sound, clank
Higher rank, I'm the one with the loaded bank
Cha ching big old wing skkrt out the dirt
Mark that ground, mark my spot
I rich, you not
Pull out the lot
Spin the ride and take that drive
Rock that coupe and park and slide
Skrrt, yeah, skrrt
Parked
Get out the car
Poetic T Aug 2019
Life is a suicide
                    Note.


For when you die,


                Everyone reads

your last words..


My last vocals read by anothet would
            invite

       All those I hate.
Just to tell those greedy **** losers



          "*******, your broke,

#money grabbing mother *******...

Then those I love those I respect would be watching it live,
       Giggling thinking dark sense of
                        Humoured ******....

I love you all, but those hyena *******

      Can choke on my ashes...
rgz Jul 2019
If you mined my mind all you would find
are tattoos of you and your fine *** behind
not strictly true, you would also find the things you do
but I'm not blind, so..
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