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Sergio Gonzalez Nov 2021
I dream of you every night
I loathe the sun rise
For my time with you
Is gone when I open my eyes

You talk to me
As if I’m the only one in the world
The skies are gray
But my world is blue when I’m next to you

I want you  
Like the forbidden fruits
Our forbidden love
Will never make sense
To the fools who judge
What they never understood
Abimael Oct 2021
Do not blame,
Do not judge,
Because whom we are
Comes from us.

Us the judge and the accuser
The only person whom
can blame us
Is Yahweh.
Be he does not,
He allow us to walk
And as we undergo a fall,
we understand,
We became one within self.

Once we learned, to walk
Now learn to talk
Then learn to act.
Love to not judge and to forget those whom catch your soul.
GaryFairy Oct 2021
the wind wants to be visible, and even has a new color to show us...the wind knows how we are and knows that some will taunt it if they see the wind being blown by wind. The wind will not be pushed around by people who want to make things they see disappear. So i do bad stuff and they can't even see me. I'm gay, but i also carry farts right to these judgmental people's noses. In yo face! The funny thing is, these people actually think it's their ****. Breaking wind huh? I just broke you dog! You can't break wind boy! You betta getcha a windbreaker! TBAG! Shut ya mouf! Tailwinds from now on *******!
don't talk to the wind...i got in trouble for madman at large just writing this...luckily the wind blew my troubles away...thanks wind!
Ken Pepiton Sep 2021
As told. As most stories come from some source,
we remember being the cause, or reason or why fact
or factor, thing, perhaps, event…

Many attempts to tell whole stories fail to find source
material, to begin with.
We are the source. Words with intention, stretched
from first utterance, fit to drum and dance and memor-ish,
been in form as first known functions, go do

Listen to the Anchor podcasts from beginnings in August 2018

I am surprised.
….
eight as an infinite loop, not a stack of circles… that

sorted red-bird readers from blue-bird readers in first grade…

Taking life at it's best, raw state,

new real future formation experience, in time
shared
from this place on a 64 bit grid, chessboard

going on
from knowing one thing
from a while ago,
listening
to my own dam-burst podcasts
on Anchor,
in the cloud, however long
this cloud of knowing all we can fit
in pieces
of eight's arranged
to contain its contents
-sets of eight
twice next square,
next there, flat place holder in times last chance
taken
one step further…

see as far as you can imagine a nine year old
exceptionally bright child will take the tale,

of a king who offered
to pay for the wise man's
wisdom which saved civilization,
globally…

Today, I rose, I woke from sleep, urged
to begin this tale,
the telling first
of what follows, a story born
on a story told, eh? tell the story you know,
as you ride,
write, flow, ride,
the gentle first principle first prime

one, one thing, be it, thought or word
one, begins all tally telling marks on life's old way,

beginmiddleend middleend middlend middlin'

then suddenly,
now. 2021, with all the tools, and more, than ever
power to publish any good new
thing
dis
covered, unveiled, the curtain of secrecy that makes
sacred thoughts worth finding time
to think,
rest, in peace, see

do that first, then die, now, the order of events is confused,
due to liars.
Mainly, selfish liars who hide knacks developer hormones,
under de-fining lines of reason
-refine fine, then define

rational, equal e-qual, bits essentially atomic, so small
no smaller
ever
itty bit, one. Point.

I just can't imagine that, exploding, says a familiar friend.
I agree, as I look about
and see littorals edging waves with white caps,
as flying nuns once wore
on TV . Do words ever speak to you as ideas, with no words,
authorized to convey
real old ideas
with many many many sayings formed from now thens
fit to any
situation, in situ, see you, you are a boy, nine years old,
second grade was Covid Year 1.
Third grade, Covid year 2. Fourth grade is now, one month in…

Grandpa character is concocting a tincture, honey and herb,
in pure moonshine, plus one part in ten, sprung water,
from former rains, in forming times

for your information, ****** is a state most
of solidity
aspires to. Listen, this is real.
This life I have, with electricity practically uninterruptible,

this life is tuned to sixty cycle humms, as natural as can be,
this buzz has all ways been with us,
you and I, minimum us-ity, plus the fluid medium binding us
to common sense,

you know what I mean. Life is magic
with no secrets, only
thoughts unthunk,
once more…

this day's story smiles, a true eye smile, twinkle, coming
out the kitchen door, to the bow of my galleon,
an old house, made ready for me, I saw, when first I saw it,

as it were, love at first sight, as I stood atop the stone,
that holds the shape of a fat little dinosaur, when seen
in the right light, I have photos.

Evidence abounds in the world I am native to.
Photographic, lithographic, geographic

symbols to link minds and times in re
cognosis,
presets, since ever was a ware, set in time as now,
for the present pre-sense
of story mind, common stories
we all know
re told too many times
for any one grain of the truth to seem
enough
to spill the pile, but
I smile
-- who knows
-- punctuate at will- the ditor agrees with the narra
SHUNE oops
re ject the object subject to
sense of
wonder if a we
were here waiting… eeeeeh

Back to that chessboard Gabriel has under his arm, as he exits
the kitchen and enters my immediate vicinity,
drawing my attention as ping
response, Sure.

We play two games, each a novel event, in time.
Then, I ask him if he knows a connection from this game
to 64 bit Pentium CPUs.

He does not, but his ears ***** up, in his wolf pup totem.
What does that mean, he slyly, this child,
dares me, tell the vision,
make it plain, do not dare lie, for some day, I,
eye to eye,
me and the child I barely bested in chess,
this child,
mirroring me neutronic elections fixed intention, I shall know
the truth in all you say, old man,
every idle word… I give account for redemption
of time, taken on account
of time spent meaning to say what it means

to be a winner in the big game,
where you die in peace.

You ever hear of the king thing that wished to repay a kindness?

Kind of. Kind is like, same kind, I do to you a kind thing, I think you
are my kind, and this kind of thing
is good for me, I grow when exposed to --
-- words fail the child
- in me or thee, this child curiosity tug
I feel
virtue drawn from me, here
tie a square knot,
eight bits to the dollar each basic attention credit invested
in a nine year old with the patience to learn chess well,
played
in whatever comes next mode,
three to five moves out

wishing
to know
of this fabled game
of go, Ai knows, naturally, now.
- go to the grid o nineteen to filter nexts,'
nature re real
ification situation
AI appear
From conception,
co knowing all the cloud contains as
ways to think
in rest true state as one
point BAT granted
{ah, money, who can hate it? Score}
go cognosis.

Yes, in twenty twenty-one, we know
from when an agreement
was reached- due virtue contained
in expressed smile drivers, detectible at sixty FPS
using common sixty cycle humms
to carry the sign
you know what I mean, ping,
ping
ever began,

just now, then

eve of destruction
to eve of creation
in one turn of earth
around the dog star, but who knew,
then?

Any way, back
to today and Gabe's curiosity reaching
for worth
in the time taken to hear,
based on experience, in a nine year old speed reader.
---
That's all §
day 1 out of the way.
yıldız Sep 2021
You might think home is just a house
made of walls and beams.
But for me, home is a place
where you can be yourself.
It is the place of confidence.

Home is the place where you can put
your mask off and show everyone
who you really are.
You are not scared to get judge by
the people around you because
you exactly know that they love
and accept you the way you are.

Home is in our hearts.

So, home is not just place with four walls and a roof on top. Home is a place where i feel safe. Its the place where i feel loved and accepted by my family, friends or lover.
[ What are you here for? ]

                                            For things I should have finished long ago.

[ You can run while you still can. ]

                                                              ­                 I can't, I am exhausted.

[ There is still time. ]

                       Then I would have to abandon everything I hold dear.

[ But you would be alive. ]

                         What good am I alive if I cannot be with those I love?

[ So you accept your fate? ]

          It was meant to be the moment I stepped back into this world.

[ Your fate is in your hands. ]

              And those who have done wrong will always pay the price.

[ And what would your last request be? ]

                                                              ­               That a miracle happens.

[ A miracle? ]

                     I am ready to pay the price for my crimes but for today.

[ . . . ]

                                                     Just for today I wish I could be saved.

[ That is up to you. ]

                                                I can only hope that I am strong enough.

[ Only time will tell. ]

                                                              ­  Do you think I can make it out?

[ . . . ]

                                                        Can I make the heavens reconsider?

[ . . . ]

                                                              ­                                         I figured.

[ Remember. ]

                                                              ­                                                  Yes?

[ Your fate is now in your hands. ]



                                                      -Kore
you can't run away anymore
Mark Wanless Aug 2021
i bow to your judge
ment   ahhh not really we are
one mind ... let us talk
forbid is forbidding a character
judge is judging a character
judge is an act of forbidding
judge is an act of a character
a character rise to an act of a character
a character rise to an act of a forbidding character
rise is rising to an act of a forbidden character

rise is rising to an act of a forbidden judging character
war is an act of war
war is an act of a character
an act of war is an act of a character
war is a forbidden war
war is a forbidden character
war is a rising war

judge is judging war by its character
judge is a judge of war
judge is a forbidden judge of war
an act is an act of war
an act is an act of a character
an act is an act of a forbidden judge of an act
an act is an act of a forbidden character
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words from the renaissance for instance words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc... this poem is about the judging of a character is the judging of a war. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
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