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uncommon ways of thinking are more subject to be
friending,
odd ionic quests are  trending---
what is the most noble quest?
like
What good am I, peace and safety wise
be me
as a wild bird might feel safe with you near,
as you quest on, leaning on the lift, rolling in the flow

life lives, ideas find shapes that fit,
moreso than a similar unit of your own mind's
left-behinds

just-in-case

we are commanded, be first
he who treads the grain eats first,
as the grain is tread,
or he stores his treasure in an imaginary vault,

safety deposit rule being if I was in the spirit,
as witnessed by the breath
filtered from gnats, and flushed of flem,
Ah hem, Aachen, is back.
Say he has a silver wedge worth risking the wrath of god,
you ever felt that urge,
to taste,
partake of the growing and harvest and decarbing and steeping
first partaker, the husband man, wombed or un, who labors,
must be, then
be the little red hen who shares the over flow,
--- what is being asked of whom, in this room?
not the filling,
let them be only thy own and not another's with thee
but the flood's free
running, whirling vein to one artery to another
we share the air.

My grandsons all can make that clear, the youngest,
three and one half swirls,
lefty lucy, righty tighty, one way or another
no no no … I'll follow the sun

twist again, like we did last summer, oh the
world swallowed me whole

as if I, not Faustus, I am bond to stand toe to toe
with old Mephisto,
by any other name, I tripped

on my feet I land on my feet Agri-industrial experimental,
oil company loss producer to allow tax credits
maybe useful toward avoiding
hundred and forty acre water
that, ****** if they didn't, we was plantin' trees
the names of those reaped
the fruits of our labor,

I see the rod, of an almond tree…

Ich kenne nicht I hid mein heir under the standing
pillars of right we learn
to live under, standing up right, relative to
who our DNA proves,
close enough for Perry Mason,
in the white of the egg, is there any taste?
it is an acquired taste,
a select strand of ancient as we, as a family,
mito-chondrial DNA,
is this not poetryscumbagthunderword getter
good, we

see the flaw, no flaw at all, a short cut for the trout, see

see the flaw in the flow is a matter of matter it self.
Self it sel, per se, same same logos I heard a meta
knower of something or another,
expert, in the literature of his field.

we seem the fruit of a life examined and found lacking nothing,
each day's evil sufficiency settled to gentle predictable waves,
marked by the red tent in the stories
of when there was so much grass and so much wool

every shepherd was feeding three wives in exchange,
for making life livable as the fate spin us
to true rest remaining for the people of {as we all agree, the idea does exist and is believed, though you may not know or know you do and know this form of reality, me and you bot reading thishit}
God god gods and sub beings with
From out of the culvert, east on 66, see I said then
that's me, I'll see what that man sees

you need not reprove the signs,
shake the dust and wander on samsara, as they say, one way

Child eyes, no fear at all, sees himself, a
strange old men
lurking where he remembers only old drunks,
smell of ****,

once watched a squaw in velvet skirt,
drop a qew outside a white outhouse

these windows persist as windows,
no doors if your ligends don’t match the receptors,

fret not, worst can happen,
but not here, time being as it is, you know, variable

In states of mind I can maintain for longer periods than i…
I take that back,
this is the real binge.
The last round. The words form constant ever after
bubble, **** I guess able to bubbles in milk
bubbles of being being my whole metaphor for life inside this one bubble we can sort of see the edge of…
synchronos compromise signals life change…

Invest in a three year old boy who is on-the-ball-*****-trained,
constant barking trained seal balancing the world,
beneath his feet, gripper stockinged ,
but a way can may be
still slide in the hall is if you put 'em on
grippers on top,
aha
life in a child
loves knowing any thing, for as long as knowing
happens along with everything else,

Like," Grandpa", from this blonde head with adult sized eyes,
seeing me look him in those eyes, signal
eyes touch, he sees his reflexion in the glare on my glasses,

I know, I saw my reflexion in my grandma's glasses,
when I was three, or so.

"Grandpa, stars come in all the colors." They do,
I said. I told my daughter, she shone.

I feel sorta Norman Rockwell, 2019.
I noticed last year, in Oct and November, through the year, voices change.
but smooth as yesteryear morphing to now
Love is intangible and time is too
You can't touch it but it can sure, touch you
You can't see it, does that mean it's not there?
This is why love to time, I can compare.

Anyone can simply say, I love you
Like telling the time, when you've got no clue
Doesn't mean it isn't good or from the heart
But just common and won't set you apart.

It's said, true love requires sacrifice
Not many are willing to pay the price
How few will rejoice love in its true form
Because to selfish lives it won't conform.

What will you give up to be with the one?
Perhaps a lifestyle with games you deem fun
I would give it all and time itself too
So I can say, my love for you is true.
Michael A Duff Nov 2017
please let me lay by your side for hours that stretch into years, we can talk about thousands of nothings that make us comfortable so we can have a lifetime of somethings with meaning.
The goal of true love is deep and broad
i am more me, and you are more you, when we are truly us.
Please don’t mind me,
I’m just a splinter of the past.
Wandering blindly,
and hands are tied so I can’t grasp.
Just like the thought,
of giving up after giving all I’ve got,
I admit that it wasn’t a lot.

Now it’s too late to pretend
that I’m not broken; could be so easy to mend,
I’ll hide the shatter point where you made me bend.
I’ll return to my other fix,
it succeeds in dulling my heart with it’s mind tricks,
a perfect combination just mix and blend.

Nightly I lay awake
sketching scenarios involving us,
where you give and I take,
I return equal amounts; a benefit of respect & trust.
When it’s time to fill in each word,
I admit I’m aware I’m not what she deserves,
someone better who won’t lose their nerve.

‘Cause it’s too late to pretend
that it’s not plagued in every thought I spend,
should be thankful that I’m important enough to still be called friend.
And there’ll always be somebody else,
completely oblivious to a heart’s wealth,
and too focused on their self to ever expend.

We can’t fix the mistake
but we can make a new one;
drain each ocean and lake,
and completely block out the sun.

Yes it’s too late too pretend
that you’re not draped in every word I’ve penned,
even with the lowest odds I’ll still contend.
And do you see each blow and broken bone,
wishing that I’d just leave and find a home?
On me you can depend to not be alone,
do you think the same you could lend?
Watching you with someone new
Made my day turning blue
One thing you always knew
I was falling in love with you
Even you'll never be my true
Girl met boy one day,
She dumped him along the way,
He was a ******* for thee,
He called her a ****, you see,
Now he can't get his rocks off, tee hee,
Try not abusing any woman, enough,
You're not an excuse for a man, tough!
Feedback welcome.
She was flawed, completely; but not in the way she though.

She was flawed in the way an artist ruins a white canvas with a beautifully colored sunset.

she was damaged, in the way the night sky is broken by the dawn
At times she had confidence and at times she felt as if she was a scrap of something used up
Simon Oct 5
Emotions have cracks in them. Totally in dependable when reacting to flaws uncertain for regular eyes to see. Cracks hide you see. Maneuvering between rough outlines of outskirts that cut awareness too short. A fishing line snagged a sudden position that wasn’t its destination. Prize was a few paces all around you. Surrounding your visage. Clearly don’t seem to notice. Warping every visual that can’t be in reach. Not the outer boundaries fault. It’s yours! Your impatient. Selfish! Impenetrable to experiences outside yourself. Cracks becoming mere targets to your undoing. Something still convincing you is all but diminished. Obvious signs one isn’t aware of what is outside themselves. The rough outlines become more edgy. Rigid! Complacent among desires without conquest. Never being a deed well nourished for choice and claim. Reasons are faltered. Balance is futile! No constraints steady enough to admit which is to blame. Or which one succeeding this entire time. Isn’t obvious, because it’s logical. A well-oiled machine fueled by cracks making decisions. Cringing in glory! Never an upset to potential. Cracked emotions offering more pendence to a variety without notions. Options shooting up on selfish highs! Opinionating one flaw to open one crack. Releasing the selfish highs those emotions needed. They get off on it. It’s their coping mechanism. Keeps them feeling soft on there toes. Grounded to a halt! Fixating a claim without remorse. Opinionating another flaw to act without self decency. Decency sinking too low for one to hoist back up to the clearing. Another crack starts to open without force. One being stretched far as one’s awareness is outlining the real issue. Structuring the inside like the outside. Rough outlines can’t pass short for outskirts never crowding enough issues to what is performing inside. Reality becomes toxic! Which is which? What is why? Why never having a claim. It’s already too late to fasten the logical seat belts. Rough outlines cracking up on the seams. Everything becomes distorted. Showing multiple fractions of law and order switching places with different cracks. Opinions urge the inside to act. Creating more cracks! Never outlasting the stretched-out limits leaking foreign material across developments. Developments offering solutions to. Crisscrossing the maneuverability of emotions raging with claim! Selfish highs breaking records from deep inside crusted depths. Environmental concerns aren’t operable. Being pulled into the cracks with joy. Becoming more of the collection that’s always dry to a crisp. Pulling a snagged cause further into the unknown depths. Producing a balancing act. Being kind without focus. Determination of instinct displacing emotions without cracks. Cracks never influencing you to the cause all together. You’re in luck. Having an anchor sinking into the rigid depths. Decisions start negotiating a little splice of different grins. Never noticeable for suspicion. Keeping it inside there inner circle. Pleading all works for the desire of knowledgeable surfaces. Surfaces now having an edge of there own. A bold disposition reclaiming victory over itself entirely. Decisions watching the fishing line creep more and more into the depths of uncertainty. Depths stretching too far to be any ordinary cavity in the construct that is raw emotions. A plan? A claim? Decision making unfiltered correctly? Nothing more accurate then letting the snagged line become eaten by the cracks forming into one gaping pit!
A somewhat stable consistency to stay active on a cracked edge. A slow free fall that doesn't consent me to actually fall. It's an illusional trick you see. Plain and simple.
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