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MetaVerse Sep 17
Edmund Clerihew Bentley
Invented an eminently
Humorous verse form
Which is also a terse form.
David Hilburn Jul 27
No one knows?
Acceptance and defensive gaiety
Sour old bills and chills we owed
Saving the world from a talk, with anxiety

Are we decent, are we found...
For a simpler song of choice?
Taken reasons, we prefer by the sound
Of another kindness, that is a voice...

Western purposes
In the mind, and the ease of a heart
Since to realer cans, and uses
Will such a dramatic survival, start?

With everybody knows
Added courage, in the fate
We directed to the wiser in soul...
Who, try yourself, when the world is asleep?

Ancient men and women, with secrets for pillows
Saked a truer finish to more wishes, than a child could earn...
Arranged in the now, wasn't a clashing eye to borrow?
Saving tears from a chosen may, are we time to learn?

Tales of call and response, to a rhythm in heaven
Like sincerity is to be...
And couth is a walking age, made to fit for a living
Why not peace, love and understanding...?
the day-to-day judgment of cause, has a certain voice for charity
David Hilburn Jul 21
Same sorts as yesterday...
Long talks, with a window that served the unknown
Patience walks by, shoes and doughy clothes, may
Its the heat of the day, I could swear my mind is blown...

The difference of deference in view...
Stoic reach to a liberated few, with savory kind?
Sitting for petty claims, on the ingenue of echoes...
With an eye on childhood; was that step to mind?

Competition, in a neighboring window:
Cat, is a hoping doggy the realer way to finish?
A chat with pride before pain, pain to outrun a cities glow
Where the kindred of futures save themselves, from suicides wish?

Spate cola, if not the drama of the day
Cats with an answering climb, know the secret I find, for somber
Notice of another, the thanks of willingness drifts by, the legendary
Confuse not the stir of submission, for we are the people somehow humbler?

A police car goes by, a radio to verify the needs of littler minds
Smiles to fall from such a height, have the soul of avarice if ours
A face looks into the meandering day, poking at me for the time...
When a tear for nothing new is all the rage in the land, can a fear have it's powers?

Time goes by, just the three of us...
Smiles at regular intervals of never's cause asked...?
Spied in the passage of such ordinary people, with a thought to must...
A hat drifts by, looking for many more firsts than lasts

Hello up there...
The duty you see, the scurrilous exaction of heart and home
Into the fray, of a fight to know, has seen all ways a land laid queer
Seeing your response is not my task, but join us if a worlds some...?

Never is, never was, and never has...
The bang of offense, loud and proud in the coping day
Sat with couth's doll, no more has the voice of an angel - todays
Worst comes of age, like a lord of silence was, the privilege to say...
Pride on the essence, existence on the psyche, privilege on the sincerity's fool; worldly succor?
David Hilburn Nov 2023
Misery owns me...
Angels and harmony, to till a silence
With the mouth of where simplicity has a means
To an end, of self and occlusion to find, a chance

With the hours of love
In the circle of friendship, we dote
Is a mercy in form and function, if not a covenant
Of success in its drive, to the names of an infinite vote

Strangers of pasts, in the seem?
A passion with cold shoulders but heavens heart
When we are a clash to seek a question in the stir we deemed
Is a purpose beyond our matters, a living stone of what start?

A trying hope, in the needs of mere, than a person justified...
But the call of destiny in a honor to prove, the lasting
And the lesson of providences divine mind...
Where one more soul to take the liberty, outweighs even love to lend

Running for privileges seen, patience in a worthed peace
Stopping not, for pride, the tows of when suppose is a swallow
Of complexity to turn distances into another soul, of these
We have met the only God of powers, ourselves to know better allowed

Misery owes me...
Readied kind, and salute to wishes I will keep, in know
The better of many things, the truth to rally a sojourn to we
The people of history, with a moment in the sun and its care, more
Aching wishes and detained privileges, to a fantasy of leading hope to grace? Why is a world round enough to know you? think again...
David Hilburn Aug 2023
Wish upon wish
Of a simple day to reserve
A stringent care, to enliven a mission
To decency's stare, the tone of a voice I share, worth's...

Places and names, thought's and conditions
Today, I have seen a callous approach
Since to fame, and a family of just renditions
Of a palpable song, I know by heart and hosts

Sanity's feather
Loved by loan and lore to signify
A rational deed, a promise to air the most, another
Call to a beauty's wish, mine to live and begin a worth's sigh?

Forces may mix and mingle, even make the time of day
A wholesome vestige, sights that calm a reason
Of comparison, might over the tale of visions may
Being a careful lip, in the world of shared seasons...

My nap, my hap
Is a legendary conversation with all of a kind
Seldom in passion, but given the stand of notoriety, under my cap
Heed is a longing taken to understate the silence, I mind

Awakening, I see the seasons become like fruit
Tentative to the distance, and the mayhem of need
Spare and special, the liberty of clashes, to know a decision to suit
Wishes are like these, a character of privilege with how to lead...

An angel's wish for better possibility's...
A care of work's in loves embrace, as if a can't of sincerity is hope
A legend of solace that has the causes of youth, for a wield of civility
And the futures presence of mind, that will with the ought I chose

Patience
And the entourage of absolution I will know, is mine
Ends of worth set to winds of change, and the new fate of reliance
Which with sense as our guide, has asked, is when to become ours for time?
Wide eyed and willing to save piety for life, does a chance meeting with an angel mean the better as a friend? Don't be a fool and ask...
David Hilburn Apr 2023
Himself, in a crying shame
Spoil me with a door, a fury too overt...
Excuse a jaded court, mellifluent by name?
A rosey future, a mission to earn the word...?

Worlds to weigh, a happier conscience
Ruses and voiced rage, particular to winds
Of times trying, the boot of legends
With the turn of somewhere simple into lent minds...

Fists in the air, a fight will remember remorse...
Sides of same and days rue, to collect a heaven
Is such a fickle repose, the dawn of a new force?
Worth one spare moment, to tell the difference as leavened

Throw after throw - to tell a characters tale
With the gaunt terror of risen voices and deeds
That calmly collected a house, that secluded with what will
A house of reaches of tomorrow, has the sense of entirety of needs...?

A piece of cake, a dread to eat it...
There in an uncertain stare, with a rolling hiccough
The total of vice to share, the challenge of a chosen wit
That has seen the truth, a course to new causes that knew the tough

For a new land, the barriers of meagerness's echo
To a chastity in round eyes, and the curiosity of a waiting hour
Let with the light of opportunity, in these steps we hold
A mind at bay, that knew one thing more than patience, a salt so sour...
Tale of the ship, that treads the world for something greater than might...
David Hilburn Feb 2023
Taint, a tender trap?
Blue of the sky, remembered by a cloud:
Faintly, the poetry of life, and its hap
Has the voice to step forward, and remind the season of the proud:

A hatful of poor decision's, has its merit...
But the cool eye of embarrassment
Has come and gone, with meet to understand, limited...
To ours, the count of couth, is one more irony's lament?

Hate me when you see the dragon...
Ought fix and fit enough futures
The life of a needier first, is always a sorrow last, a harrowed tongue?
Has said the obvious, a role in the heinous is a fools curiosity...

Throwing tenderness at you, like one of thumbs even is...
Reasons may give you onus, a variety to concede a gift
Coming for beauty, and its rosy inclination, a truer wisdom
That has survived the heed, the beating wings of condition to lift:

Hate me one more time, a reality of pain has become a champion:
To the fate, the hardened courage of youth, with a challenged whisper?
May a knowing hurt, be the fascinated letter of providence
Seeing the obvious, a bird of purer colors, will finish the kiss?

Guns with an imagination...?
Salt in a brutish court, of angers more, to swear in romantic language
Still the burden of squalor, with a slighter lip of intimation?
Your fruit is sweeter by the secrecy, as if, a cold shoulder ever is a place for rage...
A garden for notorious Rock and Roll, tattoos that made the difference...?

— The End —