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Poetic T Feb 17
Well they knew it was coming,
                        But didn't do a thing,
building in secret, not many knew..

Two by two of species some
   Well known but 40 days
And 40 nights some never
Made it home..

As the waters rose,
And land was swolllowed.
A mother with a child.

"Please take my children,
  "They have not sinned,

"Nothing done against this God.

Noah looked and walked away..

As his children went to help,
                Stay your pity.
The mother is sin so then is
   The child..

A *******
         as out of wedlock born.

Cries lasted for hours,
        Then swallowed like

The land.

"Father why didn't we even
       Save one,

Noah answered

"They angered our father,
   Thinking they didn't need
        His love,

The children confused,

"But if they grew out of
     The cradle shouldn't a
        Father be proud

As self sufficient..

Noah agnerly replied..

"We will always need him,
    He is our father, mother, child.

To deny him is sin untold,
  So he cleaned the slate.

And we his children were
    Saved for we obey,
   His word is just.


As the dove came back,
   Land was fruitful once more

And on the shoreline a child
Face down..

But Noah didn't flinch,
    Walking past he said to
His family,
                    God is good..

Genocide was his gift,
    And not all the animals
That attended found this
                     New home.

There bones discarded
    On the ocean floor.
Two by two they deserted
   This prison ship.

And so Noah and his family
    Repopulated the earth..

Now for the mindful  just
       Think deeply on that.
acacia Nov 2016
I’m back in my same chair again
and still I study the leaves
and meditate what they mean.
If everyone says the same, doesn't it mean it’s true?
What if the planet is telling me this one thing
and each and every star is echoing the same thing,
so it must be true and then it must be fact.
That means something.

I felt every second and every minute of each hour,
and you can’t even imagine the boredom at the bottom of my stomach;
patch me up and fill me up with something worthy.
Ain’t that somethin’ real?
If everyone says so and it’s worthy of my time,
ain’t it real?

But isn’t that something true to me?
The view, the raw feeling it gives me inside.
The itch I can’t reach and the gnawing inside my stomach,
And the fact that I can’t grasp what I need and it kills me;
And now I’m disturbed and I’m sick and I can’t figure out.
What is this bothering me? Is this something for me?
Tailored, sewn, and pressed for me?

I end my night on my roof,
the stars at my fingertips and the moon as my pillow;
the moon soaking me with a cleansing glow;
the shower up here felt so amazing.
There’s nothing like this type of view.
He needs somebody to love him better than all the others do.
No man
Is an
Island
.
.
.
Nor is
Is any
Woman
.
.
.
Nor child
Alive
Or dead
.
.
.
Evolv-
Ing in
No time
.
.
.
From the
Apes of
Futures
.
.
.
And chimps
Of Past
We All
.
.
.
String with
Anoth-
Er One
.
.
.
Anim-
Als Hu-
Mans Fun
.
.
.
Gi Plants
Miner
Al too
.
.
.
Kingdom
Comes to
All life
.
.
.
Planet
Earth and
Other
.
.
.
Ali-
En and
Human
.
.
.
Artif-
IAL in-
telli
.
.
.
Gentx and
Ladies
And non
.
.
.
Binar-
E Bus
Ter
.
.
.
Big Blue
Lucille
Banan
.
.
.
A Rest
Ed Dev
Elope
.
.
.
Job came
Out the
Whale a
.
.
.
Prophet
Not A
Cheap Queen
.
.
.
Peaches
Princess
es Too
.
.
.
We all
Come from
The same
.
.
.
Sticky
Threads that
Bind us
.
.
.
No Matt
Er what
We Bee
.
.
.
Live we
Connect
And can
.
.
.
Feel our
Queen if
We list
.
.
.
To Her
To Be
Happy
.
.
.
It hurts
To know
You are
.
.
.
One with
Them Cry
Miner
.
.
.
Als Them
Others
The Mo
.
.
.
Stars have
Pointed
North All
.
.
.
Ways lead
Home to
Mommy
.
.
.
Step in
Line or
Fall back
.
.
.
Cause this
Pig can
Talk and
.
.
.
We all
Connect
Ed now
Oink
Oink
....
The
Wasatch
Wasps
Are
Waving
Ylzm Apr 2019
In the days of Noah,
none ate meat and all spoke the same tongue;
and neither race nor religion exists, nor divides;
Yet blood shed in wickedness,
flowed as rivers watered the land.

In the days of Noah,
there was no writing, for there was no need:
for promise made was promise kept;
Yet lies filled the land,
the more insidious for the purer the tongue was.

In the days of Noah,
each man was a city, living to see his seventh generation,
and thought accursed if lived not past his 300th birthday;
Yet age led not to wisdom but only foolish old men,
and thus ordained not to live past 120 years.

In the days of Noah,
the clime was pleasant with not a rainbow in the skies,
and feasting and merrymaking alfresco all day and all night was life;
Yet **** and pillage were common,
for might was right, and the sword, the judge.

In the days of Noah,
knowledge and technologies were of the gods,
revealed to man by the sons of the gods;
Yet giants and mutants, of beast and man,
roamed and devastated the earth, the seas and the skies.

In the days of Noah
naming creates, even as animals were named,
and things unimaginable today were named into existence;
Yet the gift was abused,
and man wanted to make a name for himself.

And the days of Noah shall be here again.
We may soon speak, in appearance, a common tongue,
helped by the written word and Alexa.
And man is already making a name for himself:
His abilities are never more justified and demonstrated;
And if all on Earth are agreed,
there is nothing on earth and in the heavens that is beyond him.
His zenith comes and the Day of the Son of Man is soon to be!

So shall it be then. Amen and Amen.
an ark
of Noah
would disembody
a silvery
horse with
seraphim whether
res publica
rained on
earth with
quiescent nomads
and to
cloud their
creation in
planet of
thieves with
periods of
sporadic sea
Planer Thieves  by  Dan Krokos a movie
There is a barber shop built on the ashes of Babylon,
where men lose their ******* with shame that skip to the fourth kid,

There once was place where Samson's hairstyle was a treasure map.
A place where lost man travel
Where David found no stone
where Noah built an Ark but storm never came.

When we pass through that place even the stars we use for direction disappear.
Stephen Edwardes Sep 2018
Noah's Yellow Arches

Once upon a time when people lived long
Men walked with god but something went wrong
God spoke to Noah upset by the violence
Both men were solemn consumed by a silence

At the end of the almighty's speech
Noah imagined the heights he could reach
His family were chosen to start a clean slate
A flood would be coming from the heavens of hate

His sons were engaged to build a boat
A vessel unimagined by the average bloke
They sawed through timber from dawn till it dusked
A death warrant signed, they kept it all hushed

They gathered a brace of every fair beast
And harvested grain for the meagrest feast
They bound it in cypress and raised a roof
The Ark set sail in search of the truth

For forty long nights and for forty dark days
Rain fell from the sky in tumultuous ways
The deserts were soaked, valleys were drowned
All others perished and Noah was crowned

He walked to the deck saw doves in the sky
A wry sense of irony crept from his eye
A feeling rose up in this most pious a man
Why was he chosen to manage this plan?

He sat sea sick and contemplative
The new most important original native
As his pride bubbled his confidence grew
He thought himself king, with ideas a new

Why have i toiled in the mud and the rain
Working for a god who is both fickle and vain
He tells me he loves me then leaves us in drought
My children catch fevers my crops never sprout

He spoke to his keeper an old Mr Macdonald
he'd served him for years with his trusty son Ronald
when we make land our new life will be sweet
because I'm in charge now and were gonna eat

no more will we plan for a balanced tomorrow
we'll gorge ourselves on all we can swallow
these beasts we hold captive will never be free
we'll farm them so quickly to stupidity

Start with the chickens they've had too much space
pack them in cages then hormonally lace
imagine twenty thousand in one small field
we'll fatten our bellies on the omelettes they yield

of course some will perish before they can breed
so grind those ones back into chicken feed
don't worry about size or when you should slaughter
to make up the difference we'll pump em with water

Now as you all know my favourite is beef
the succulent flavour of steak through the teeth
for this will require the clearing of trees
'the end of all forests' I'll sign the decrees

But Noah what about the bats and the frogs
get to work Ronald and chop me some logs
by the way boss we'll need more grain
the cattle eat half its hard to sustain

The chemicals used might pollute not please
and there's always the chance of mad cow disease
Dont worry my boys i've thought all this through
on both bats and frogs there's little to chew

the grass we'll genetically alter its code
keep all the seeds so no one should know
the illness will be named variently
call it something fun like human cjd

enough of your moaning i want this thing branded
not talking pokers, I want yellow arches clown handed
I want plastic wrapped around toys in a box
I want diabetes disguised as a healthy detox

I don't care for soil and **** the oceans
not even bothered about factory explosions
as long as the workers are fat or obese
their children are stupid and easy to fleece

Noah stood defiant as the Ark hit the shore
he clenched at his chest his left arm was sore
Ronald enquired about a subsidiary
Noah's heart exploded he died in the sea
Ronald opened his doors in 1940.
b Aug 2018
it should have been
41 degrees today.
the hottest day of summer.
i prepared.
i wore shorts to work.

it rained like
noah's flood.
i didnt see it coming
but i heard the rumbles
like drums from hell.

i wrote words for jane
and i never thought
id ever show her.

i read her two poems
and she liked the one
that wasnt about her
much more.

it should have been
41 degrees today.
Illya Oz May 2018
You belong with the stars in the sky,
But I wouldn't really want that,
Because then we would have to say goodbye.

So you'll just have to say on the ground with me,
And all we can do is think about,
The wonderful star you could be.

You would fill space with an amazing hue,
The colour of your eyes,
That Celeste Velato blue.

You would brighen the sky around you,
And when darkness would try take over,
I know you would always push through.

You would have a gravity so strong,
You would pull everyone towards you,
In a way that could never be wrong.

Your hydrogen and helium and nuclear fusion,
You would burn so hot,
Though it would be no illusion.

You would have a heart bigger then the sun,
So caring and so wise,
And loved by everyone.

You were meant to be a star,
So don't you ever forget,
Because to me you already are.
I wrote this for one of my amazing friends on their birthday.
though avast percentage
     of Stone Temple Pilots, she push peep pulls
     viz vernacular speaking population
     to most pious take as gospel

     every word in religious tomes
     their collective soul asylum polestar,
     and doth decree important doctrines
     with especial accord

equal insignificance applied toward
    Judeo-Christian holidays across the board
thus easter tis no exception to the golden rule,
     where santa claus reached an a chord

follow auspicious signs alit in the night sky
     shaped like a drinking gourd
perhaps amassing plentiful harvests
     upon hamlets strewn

     across ******* populated Earth
     asper cornucopia exhibited secret hoard
sharing  plentiful Horn
     (and Hard art learned lesson)
     to stave off barren ness, ignored

going forward seeding nascent
     March Madness with help from Lord
     and Tailor as midwife hoot
     tended Ville Nova moored

by Wildcat fanatics, who unbelievably  
     espied heavens cleft asunder
     and golden rays poured
while collective spectators loudly screamed

     akin to the soundgarden
     of ferocious cats roared
witnessed history scored
earning players knighted
     with Excalibur sword
thence entire team handed
     Taj Mahal shaped award

which aforementioned *** hide lacks, cuz zit
     happens tubby April Fool's joke
thus above iterated verses somehow
     needs just a little bit of relevance to yoke

thine admitted ambivalent reaction to sports,
     yea aye pay figurative ****
hen to Rabbinic, generic fanatic primal
     tribal village people clan destine woke

and swinging focus of this poem
     back toward Religious perp ported berth
when (sans antiquity) trumpet signaled
     thus, any superstitions blew away dearth

when distant shofar heard
     in every home and hearth
anticipating arrival of the Easter Bunny,    
     who brings mirth

and hop poly distributes sweet treats,
     which children as grown adults,
     no matter necessity for teeth to be removed
     the sugary over indulgence wool worth
    
today thee American Dental Association chastises candy
     manufacturers bandying more weight
gaining deadly, debauched, and decadent, trait
then adultery verboten fruit to sate
hash-tagged reprobate.
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