#deficit - Hello Poetry

Religion -- last call for second guesses -- last call to change the title right usual coordinated sunrise, sunset, seasonal wobble peak hot to peak cold, seed time and harvest Boomer me, fretfu-lless, truly touched Reliance on another to squeeze the blemish in the flooded shame zone Shame on me for being broken, gone astray on my journey through our past have a seat, this ain't a ditty or a jingle this is life, at the end, as seen by folks, who have to some degree expected it to end before plural me in this wewas- When in time one is passed by, when in mind one is mixed up, thinking how small a force a worry is, thinking how short a life in history is, imagining magical belief redefined, reimagining being mindful not now, and now, breathe-ing, feeling lungs fill, fixing the image of an inside this body common sense of pattern and position, a place for processing air that is everywhere, and then in me, in spirit form, gaseous matter wishful thinking, sorted from anxious thought, meeting encouraging words long thought true, or truly taught as true if you can handle truth, everyone who asks receives, can that be true? What is enough and enough to share, if not true when taken as granted one ration, one share of plenty, already here, enough and more than enough while having intelligence from far away, of course, as with the fool who believes the news as told today. We, the free and the brave, we may have retold lies, the conversion from thoughtless trust to true rest, accepting science in consciousness, dividing faith in fact, from faith in if-then promises put to the test and found, plenty for the moment, mental motive reconsideration, Pleiades sweet influence, patience perfecting prayer, waiting to make believe I believe I have enough for now, and hope enough to carry on, waiting for the truth to free my fretful self from my happy person. the praxis, the making up of certain honed points… practice practice practice Billy Graham boasted about wanting to preach so bad, he had to go out in the bottoms and shout Hellfire and brimstone at the peeping frogs. -- Wisdom from above is not love, its peaceable feeling, swallowing some story whole, chokes the whole idea of why out of a child, exposed to the way Eli Weisel made us understand a why I can remember QUEENS FOR A DAY WHO ONLY WANTED A TATOO REMOVED, on TV who thinks hate is easy to untie, once tied wrong, ah fret not, Jung has an archetype at the ready, slippery gnosinots just for Granny Knots, and another essence for Daddy wounds. -- Practice preaching teaching memorized, fret not, only believe, believe, believe relieve the misbelief by asking truth, free me from my debts, take my transgressing mind across the line limiting my ability to accept answers that answer yes, take and eat, only believe "to have faith or confidence" thinking fine, what is true, ask a dead man, And faith is neither the submission of the reason, nor is it the acceptance, simply and absolutely upon testimony, of what reason cannot reach. Faith is: the being able to cleave to a power of goodness appealing to our higher and real self, not to our lower and apparent self. [Matthew Arnold, "Literature & Dogma," 1873] And the wheels on the bus go round and round. Fidelity of message sent forward from ever ago, freedom from is coupled with freedom to make believe, for the time at hand, all is as it must be. Fret not, " And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches." For a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again: but the wicked shall fall into mischief. Have I not trusted, have I not enough and enough to share, how have my transgressions become missed chances lost in all my yesteryears jeering me on, loser, loser, good for nothing *** none who rely on me, have hope in truth for their faith in my supply of plenty, drawn from true luck in fact, conceivably drawn from breaths taken and put to living uses in our shared pasts Scribbling nonsense stirring up old word based faith, finding myself a lazy person expecting wisdom truly freeing me from fretting about money in 2026, when thousands are suffering under monstrous powers thousands are without enough of all that ought be free for the asking, according to the religions at work among the poor who accept hope as the substance faith can make feel thinkable, realizable peaceably thought through -- some time later that one day… Giving and receiving, being fooled and fooling for a while reconceiving how hope makes faith, and faith keeps the faithful performing, in hope, taking time that is mine to make use of or waste, asking all that wisdom is to make use of my asking as if asking while thinking it is vain to ask again, if having asked and thought long the rhema logic, if all things work together, as I must say I do believe, all things working at scales I mentally can grasp, if I have use of these magnificent letters to hold thought, at what if or wonder if stages, leaving be the evidence, not falsely so called, in seed stage curiosity, idle amenable agreeable weform reformed under all that we have learned, about the literal truth, the letter that lets us think together, fret not because of evil men, yet we fret for our children, why have we no whole idea of we, the people of earth ? ---- okeh, I was poor long enough to know it Look at me, I say to me, see me be what I think I am to any not me being logos y nada mas, mere mind in order or chaos, what work does meditation on the difference make, spoken word, written word, put to the task of reasoning, asking my child self if I believe in Jesus, as a sent messenger, or if I have long held as true a telling of a made belief, pretend I am sure I do not know how to eliminate the weight of debt that the society I was born into allowed and my ignorance kept me innocent to this degree, I trusted the authority, I trusted the grownups I was entrusted to by parents even more restricted in what they could have known for sure and certain, -- the anointing and the explanation, now it all is artifice, unless ah we agree, me and my two sides of rationality, artfully hoping to make some semblance of balanced acceptance and expectation. Under the practice of asking in my core thought process, if truth can make my troubling cogitations make a single hair white or black, can my acceptance of a stored story's moral worth, make a false a true? Have I not defended the faith I accepted when I was very broken, badly formed fit for no honest labor nor any winning awarded peace in rest and love, I am near tears to think of this, to look at the rhema spoken, tithes paid, services rendered, all apparently amounting to this state, altered or otherwise alone, am I, aware I am not the only writer writing to myself, to hold the whole idea that magic thinking is just what I have believed believing in miracle freedom from cares and worries, freedom from ******* to creditors who I know are evil at the core where usury, long known to be evil, is causing this fretting in me, I feel the claws of a trap I was enticed into by ignorance on my part, and I am sore discouraged from saying I believe I have been made free from my transgressions, my misteps my misbeliefs my misconceptions held as true enough to say I have believed asking brings true answers, not art, not more than heart can think or ask, but useful when feeling need to be set free from contracts within the conqueror's privilege, as when I went into a bubble of made believers made to make a liar rich and trusted as I live and breathe, the spirit in the spoken words told me in my meditations, only believe by my will, filled with hoped for faith, indeed, hoping against hope for some today, far worse conditions in refugee camps and homeless shelters, here, I sit, under mortgage and fear and disappointment from true hopes not only deferred but pretty much crushed, sick at heart am I, not lying to myself, not able to say -- unless I redefine the terms, enough and enough to share that does good, enough good, to take away such despair, such grief there is in the interconnected minds of mankind who have been led astray, life, in truth breathing answers to distant prayers, sighing amen, give us this day our reason to continue, give the hopeless hope, and make the mistaken debts be taken out of the way, help for today where help is needed in full measure, today, help the helpless, help the unworthy on any economic scale, help the sick hording proud ones unbelieve any lies about truth we all have been prone to tell. Honed most me, tov ra' friction in my shame, shame that I have become helpless, shame beautifully intricately knotted recoknown that I am not nearly so helpless, as many, many I have seen afar off on our televisions, made plain, seen afar off in legendary cedar nations ruined by the powers that have made science evil. The minds we must imagine have been twisted into commodities we imagine we could sell if we knew how the entertaining empires pay for words explaining visions we must sympathize with, without any hope to make one severed limb regrow. ____________ A brief friend, among the many there have been, this one was destined to become rich, not me, he was a gambling man, fretted to death unless my debt did get disgiven, ungiven for gotten gain, enough, shout it to the heavens, enough, be reasonable, think how we are shattered and broken and reasoning, asking why would we lie to our children about God, why would any wisdom suggest that on Earth as seen from Saturn, or Voyager, war insures peace? The truth that frees, the spectacle spectator, the specialist speculation All in on peaceable test, one more time all in on gentle test, all in on gone and done. All in agreement just said amen. All in opposition just sorta grinned, and gave us the push we simply hoped for.

0

Apr 16

Apr 16, 2026 at 7:02 PM UTC

kenpepiton

A little walk -then some thinking, took all day

Religion -- last call for second guesses -- last call to change the title right usual coordinated sunrise, sunset, seasonal wobble peak hot to peak cold, seed time and harvest Boomer me, fretfu-lless, truly touched Reliance on another to squeeze the blemish in the flooded shame zone Shame on me for being broken, gone astray on my journey through our past have a seat, this ain't a ditty or a jingle this is life, at the end, as seen by folks, who have to some degree expected it to end before plural me in this wewas- When in time one is passed by, when in mind one is mixed up, thinking how small a force a worry is, thinking how short a life in history is, imagining magical belief redefined, reimagining being mindful not now, and now, breathe-ing, feeling lungs fill, fixing the image of an inside this body common sense of pattern and position, a place for processing air that is everywhere, and then in me, in spirit form, gaseous matter wishful thinking, sorted from anxious thought, meeting encouraging words long thought true, or truly taught as true if you can handle truth, everyone who asks receives, can that be true? What is enough and enough to share, if not true when taken as granted one ration, one share of plenty, already here, enough and more than enough while having intelligence from far away, of course, as with the fool who believes the news as told today. We, the free and the brave, we may have retold lies, the conversion from thoughtless trust to true rest, accepting science in consciousness, dividing faith in fact, from faith in if-then promises put to the test and found, plenty for the moment, mental motive reconsideration, Pleiades sweet influence, patience perfecting prayer, waiting to make believe I believe I have enough for now, and hope enough to carry on, waiting for the truth to free my fretful self from my happy person. the praxis, the making up of certain honed points… practice practice practice Billy Graham boasted about wanting to preach so bad, he had to go out in the bottoms and shout Hellfire and brimstone at the peeping frogs. -- Wisdom from above is not love, its peaceable feeling, swallowing some story whole, chokes the whole idea of why out of a child, exposed to the way Eli Weisel made us understand a why I can remember QUEENS FOR A DAY WHO ONLY WANTED A TATOO REMOVED, on TV who thinks hate is easy to untie, once tied wrong, ah fret not, Jung has an archetype at the ready, slippery gnosinots just for Granny Knots, and another essence for Daddy wounds. -- Practice preaching teaching memorized, fret not, only believe, believe, believe relieve the misbelief by asking truth, free me from my debts, take my transgressing mind across the line limiting my ability to accept answers that answer yes, take and eat, only believe "to have faith or confidence" thinking fine, what is true, ask a dead man, And faith is neither the submission of the reason, nor is it the acceptance, simply and absolutely upon testimony, of what reason cannot reach. Faith is: the being able to cleave to a power of goodness appealing to our higher and real self, not to our lower and apparent self. [Matthew Arnold, "Literature & Dogma," 1873] And the wheels on the bus go round and round. Fidelity of message sent forward from ever ago, freedom from is coupled with freedom to make believe, for the time at hand, all is as it must be. Fret not, " And by knowledge shall the chambers be filled with all precious and pleasant riches." For a just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again: but the wicked shall fall into mischief. Have I not trusted, have I not enough and enough to share, how have my transgressions become missed chances lost in all my yesteryears jeering me on, loser, loser, good for nothing *** none who rely on me, have hope in truth for their faith in my supply of plenty, drawn from true luck in fact, conceivably drawn from breaths taken and put to living uses in our shared pasts Scribbling nonsense stirring up old word based faith, finding myself a lazy person expecting wisdom truly freeing me from fretting about money in 2026, when thousands are suffering under monstrous powers thousands are without enough of all that ought be free for the asking, according to the religions at work among the poor who accept hope as the substance faith can make feel thinkable, realizable peaceably thought through -- some time later that one day… Giving and receiving, being fooled and fooling for a while reconceiving how hope makes faith, and faith keeps the faithful performing, in hope, taking time that is mine to make use of or waste, asking all that wisdom is to make use of my asking as if asking while thinking it is vain to ask again, if having asked and thought long the rhema logic, if all things work together, as I must say I do believe, all things working at scales I mentally can grasp, if I have use of these magnificent letters to hold thought, at what if or wonder if stages, leaving be the evidence, not falsely so called, in seed stage curiosity, idle amenable agreeable weform reformed under all that we have learned, about the literal truth, the letter that lets us think together, fret not because of evil men, yet we fret for our children, why have we no whole idea of we, the people of earth ? ---- okeh, I was poor long enough to know it Look at me, I say to me, see me be what I think I am to any not me being logos y nada mas, mere mind in order or chaos, what work does meditation on the difference make, spoken word, written word, put to the task of reasoning, asking my child self if I believe in Jesus, as a sent messenger, or if I have long held as true a telling of a made belief, pretend I am sure I do not know how to eliminate the weight of debt that the society I was born into allowed and my ignorance kept me innocent to this degree, I trusted the authority, I trusted the grownups I was entrusted to by parents even more restricted in what they could have known for sure and certain, -- the anointing and the explanation, now it all is artifice, unless ah we agree, me and my two sides of rationality, artfully hoping to make some semblance of balanced acceptance and expectation. Under the practice of asking in my core thought process, if truth can make my troubling cogitations make a single hair white or black, can my acceptance of a stored story's moral worth, make a false a true? Have I not defended the faith I accepted when I was very broken, badly formed fit for no honest labor nor any winning awarded peace in rest and love, I am near tears to think of this, to look at the rhema spoken, tithes paid, services rendered, all apparently amounting to this state, altered or otherwise alone, am I, aware I am not the only writer writing to myself, to hold the whole idea that magic thinking is just what I have believed believing in miracle freedom from cares and worries, freedom from ******* to creditors who I know are evil at the core where usury, long known to be evil, is causing this fretting in me, I feel the claws of a trap I was enticed into by ignorance on my part, and I am sore discouraged from saying I believe I have been made free from my transgressions, my misteps my misbeliefs my misconceptions held as true enough to say I have believed asking brings true answers, not art, not more than heart can think or ask, but useful when feeling need to be set free from contracts within the conqueror's privilege, as when I went into a bubble of made believers made to make a liar rich and trusted as I live and breathe, the spirit in the spoken words told me in my meditations, only believe by my will, filled with hoped for faith, indeed, hoping against hope for some today, far worse conditions in refugee camps and homeless shelters, here, I sit, under mortgage and fear and disappointment from true hopes not only deferred but pretty much crushed, sick at heart am I, not lying to myself, not able to say -- unless I redefine the terms, enough and enough to share that does good, enough good, to take away such despair, such grief there is in the interconnected minds of mankind who have been led astray, life, in truth breathing answers to distant prayers, sighing amen, give us this day our reason to continue, give the hopeless hope, and make the mistaken debts be taken out of the way, help for today where help is needed in full measure, today, help the helpless, help the unworthy on any economic scale, help the sick hording proud ones unbelieve any lies about truth we all have been prone to tell. Honed most me, tov ra' friction in my shame, shame that I have become helpless, shame beautifully intricately knotted recoknown that I am not nearly so helpless, as many, many I have seen afar off on our televisions, made plain, seen afar off in legendary cedar nations ruined by the powers that have made science evil. The minds we must imagine have been twisted into commodities we imagine we could sell if we knew how the entertaining empires pay for words explaining visions we must sympathize with, without any hope to make one severed limb regrow. ____________ A brief friend, among the many there have been, this one was destined to become rich, not me, he was a gambling man, fretted to death unless my debt did get disgiven, ungiven for gotten gain, enough, shout it to the heavens, enough, be reasonable, think how we are shattered and broken and reasoning, asking why would we lie to our children about God, why would any wisdom suggest that on Earth as seen from Saturn, or Voyager, war insures peace? The truth that frees, the spectacle spectator, the specialist speculation All in on peaceable test, one more time all in on gentle test, all in on gone and done. All in agreement just said amen. All in opposition just sorta grinned, and gave us the push we simply hoped for.

223

I'm a rectified nut. An idea **** I'm fine, as long as I hide the signs. It's whispering lines in my sleep that makes my secrets hard to keep. I'll try. but really just don't care I don't care if you stand and stare I'll wear a tutu get your own and it goes quiet and I'm alone. The fizzy clouds and fluffy pop this lucid world confuse me not for I am paper, you are rock and I'm the key and I'm the lock. Pick up the pace and race on forth I'm bored, this world just won't move forward. "Mundane, find I the sounds of day." Good lord, don't judge by what I say. It's true, we met when we were young, But since then we've not got along, You choose I and I choose We, I think your mind is alien to me.

0

Mar 17, 2025

Mar 17, 2025 at 7:25 AM UTC

Paperweightgames

Split Me

I'm a rectified nut. An idea **** I'm fine, as long as I hide the signs. It's whispering lines in my sleep that makes my secrets hard to keep. I'll try. but really just don't care I don't care if you stand and stare I'll wear a tutu get your own and it goes quiet and I'm alone. The fizzy clouds and fluffy pop this lucid world confuse me not for I am paper, you are rock and I'm the key and I'm the lock. Pick up the pace and race on forth I'm bored, this world just won't move forward. "Mundane, find I the sounds of day." Good lord, don't judge by what I say. It's true, we met when we were young, But since then we've not got along, You choose I and I choose We, I think your mind is alien to me.

27

Not every story is the true story, but life, the book, is aways rough draft… no names are taken out to hide the beguilers. No shame is weighed among the ignorant beguiled. An aphorism in the realm of gaseous we, free thought, fly ***** caught by echo location, recollecting the crack of the bat. Here, catch.

0

Apr 25, 2023

Apr 25, 2023 at 7:03 PM UTC

kenpepiton

Crumble crusts of toasted-hopes

Not every story is the true story, but life, the book, is aways rough draft… no names are taken out to hide the beguilers. No shame is weighed among the ignorant beguiled. An aphorism in the realm of gaseous we, free thought, fly ***** caught by echo location, recollecting the crack of the bat. Here, catch.

8

My mind feels As though it Flickers. “Tick, Tic, Ti, T.” To experience ADD is to have your brain Switch between Six different channels, Six different themes. It will always feel like you are Rocketing between things. In the span of a second, Your mind will explore the dying children In Mozambique. In the next ponder, Your mind indulges in the roleplay of Naruto and the pink-haired chick. I have no power over Who dances in my play. I know they bring flames, But I’m uncertain as to Who is managing the stage. I am the director of this show, yet I was banned to say. The show has no ending, no beginning, My life didn't come with instructions. So I ****** it up and just lived with it. In the moments that I daydream, I always force myself to be in the present. In fear that the world will think I'm too dumb or complacent. But that's just how my brain works. Ten seconds gone, I am travelling across the pool. A red bruise on my lips and A crack on my tooth. I ask myself again, Then and there, How and when Did I get this bruise? It can be such a disadvantage, It can be such a gift. To be wholesome in a way, But to also lack the basics. I feel like I’m constantly living between The two binary opposites. As regulating emotions can become a huge problem I may have creativity and the sway, But I'm also managing my impulsivity every day. Do you know Why I zone out And lose focus? My world inside Can just be too chaotic. But trust that I'm working on it. Regardless, I know this faucet will flow seamlessly And being more aware of this condition Will only help me manage it. So what have I to lose, In the midst of this plight? I’ve been writing a lot of poetry, Haven’t I? AOA

0

Dec 19, 2018

Dec 19, 2018 at 9:31 AM UTC

aiminist

My Traveling Mind

My mind feels As though it Flickers. “Tick, Tic, Ti, T.” To experience ADD is to have your brain Switch between Six different channels, Six different themes. It will always feel like you are Rocketing between things. In the span of a second, Your mind will explore the dying children In Mozambique. In the next ponder, Your mind indulges in the roleplay of Naruto and the pink-haired chick. I have no power over Who dances in my play. I know they bring flames, But I’m uncertain as to Who is managing the stage. I am the director of this show, yet I was banned to say. The show has no ending, no beginning, My life didn't come with instructions. So I ****** it up and just lived with it. In the moments that I daydream, I always force myself to be in the present. In fear that the world will think I'm too dumb or complacent. But that's just how my brain works. Ten seconds gone, I am travelling across the pool. A red bruise on my lips and A crack on my tooth. I ask myself again, Then and there, How and when Did I get this bruise? It can be such a disadvantage, It can be such a gift. To be wholesome in a way, But to also lack the basics. I feel like I’m constantly living between The two binary opposites. As regulating emotions can become a huge problem I may have creativity and the sway, But I'm also managing my impulsivity every day. Do you know Why I zone out And lose focus? My world inside Can just be too chaotic. But trust that I'm working on it. Regardless, I know this faucet will flow seamlessly And being more aware of this condition Will only help me manage it. So what have I to lose, In the midst of this plight? I’ve been writing a lot of poetry, Haven’t I? AOA

68

Comes not from using domestic produce, But such products help fiscal deficit reduce.

0

Jan 24, 2017

Jan 24, 2017 at 12:53 AM UTC

Atul

Patriotism

Comes not from using domestic produce, But such products help fiscal deficit reduce.

2

I wonder this, I wonder that… Isn’t it all in all a wonder? a marvel of the mind? a marvel? The world… The world I wander, not by foot but neurologics, electronic pulse. Tick tock. I wander all night. I wonder my life away. Nomadic cognition, Evasive mental technician, she wonders away living. She wanders away from life. Escapist, flee the seen. Searches for the unknown. A scene of undefined frontier. an unseen. what we don’t know… That’s the marvel. But mostly the knowing are known. However, I wonder.

0

Jun 20, 2016

Jun 20, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC

brandy-c-zoch

Neurons

I wonder this, I wonder that… Isn’t it all in all a wonder? a marvel of the mind? a marvel? The world… The world I wander, not by foot but neurologics, electronic pulse. Tick tock. I wander all night. I wonder my life away. Nomadic cognition, Evasive mental technician, she wonders away living. She wanders away from life. Escapist, flee the seen. Searches for the unknown. A scene of undefined frontier. an unseen. what we don’t know… That’s the marvel. But mostly the knowing are known. However, I wonder.

23