#harris
Bends between mossy boulders
Poor reception in the clouds
on the mountains, they recede and close
behind me, keep my thoughts
trapped on the road
No views, not stopping
for a *** driving quietly
Standing still is dangerous, perhaps
I'm going to cross a pass to the sun
Still a thought
out of the fog of my feelings
I miss the sun
Bits of Nostalgia on the radio
with a lot of noise
Would it help to cry
once that is safe?
Jul 12, 2025
Jul 12, 2025 at 3:17 AM UTC
my responsibility is intel
like when im in the future
i did that
but for when you delayed
the spending of my time
dedicated to yourself
less to the poor
and more to the fires
on top of the mortgage loans
and my labor rates among the best ever
my self esteem unaffected
because im a peasant
no dreams all dedication
to myself
my skills
my education
my level
like level is a man
and a language you cant
band
i can
and write, or right angle that chalk
when the boss gives me the boss
i'm all walk and get the broom
no dust all glue
the corners
and for you its insured
that i did my jobs
payed for my crimes
served with my country
and your involved now
with us, the criminals
for when i didn't make it
i was preparing for the good art
the lifestyle
the not be there and still wait for it
now you fetch
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 8:12 PM UTC
how
getting a way
and another's way wasn't yours
subjugating all those around
not on your side
we are bullet ridden
already a privacy
obscene
the torn hold of my boy body
you wont let grow
so small and unfit
distorted work, strength
abnormal and feminine
putrid wrath
motherly paint
language from darkness
i am fragile ornament in your hands
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 7:31 PM UTC
you made her question
earth
knowing she was wrong
to be following your orders
at the bottom of the list you lied
when we join
when we are gone
without born
only long shots
at the horrid win
accepted at birth
grow unnaturally with us now
inviting challenges we gave up
to be used
in shells and words
traded nerves
feel?
what isn't to feel
the battlefield
a stretching molding shinning hill
de pair them feet son
they ain't no use hear
switch at my back
you get
and voice drops you on your head
in a test tube
one strategy
**** eachother and **** it out
find your way home
distance and peers
crawl to edge of that vantage point
i find my father there in the scope every night
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 6:04 PM UTC
Right to pass
thresholds and obstruction to wealth
clerical work
policy writing
advancing civil rights
Diplomacy
Federally codified evidence of Poverty and Neglect in America
penal code section 849 provides
849(b)(1)vs Section 501(c)(3) organizations are restricted in how much political and legislative (lobbying) activities they may conduct
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 5:47 PM UTC
849(b)(1)vs Section 501(c)(3) organizations are restricted in how much political and legislative (lobbying) activities they may conduct
thresholds and obstruction to wealth
clerical work
policy writing
advancing civil rights
diplomacy
Mar 27, 2025
Mar 27, 2025 at 5:35 PM UTC
The world watches.
They hold their breaths
as the ballots are cast-
a responsibility and gift
not to be taken
for granted.
Nov 5, 2024
Nov 5, 2024 at 7:56 AM UTC
If in the basket of deplorables must I be,
To quote a term most used by sweetest Hilary,
Then let me state this best I can,
I'm voting for our country, not the man.
A country where race and gender aren't the bait,
But where everyone is open to debate,
United by a sense of common pride
Holding back divisions’ surging tide.
Where knowledge of our strength is used for good,
And our intent for peace is not misunderstood;
Making clear to tyrants our firm resolve,
So that by dialogue not war may they
squabbles solve.
A nation where our people are first in line
And not succumb to disadvantages or imported crime,
From open borders with illegals pouring through,
With misguided politicians caring more for them than you.
Where doctrine is replaced by common sense,
From the fringes seeking dominance hell-bent.
Boys competing fully in girls sport,
No reasoned thought for when children to abort.
Politicians’ vanity projects not worth
Squandering our money with intent and
unrequited mirth;
While millions live in poverty and need,
Ignored by legislators craving fame and intellectual greed.
I want our leaders to respect our flag,
And not applaud when to the ground protestors stomp and drag;
And for why, but to score a series of cheap shots,
Empowering radicals to ferment those never ending plots.
So yes, my vote goes to just my country,
And if a name must I choose, I say this humbly,
My selection won't be for one that's woke,
Or that will seek to send our country broke.
Politicians convince themselves they're special,
They are in fact a wallowing empty vessel,
Using their guile and mimic to impress,
When truth be told, they almost invariably depress.
Oct 27, 2024
Oct 27, 2024 at 1:44 PM UTC
Harris and Trump hit the stage
At stake is the next US president
The debate was filled with rage
The debate was filled with torment
It was like watching a tennis match
With each participant taking shots
Back and forth we watched the barbs hatch
Back and forth each tried to connect the dots
Harris let her racket do the talking
While Trump defended the ball in his courts
The participants were mocking and rocking
The participants built word forts and false reports
Harris wasn't perfect and neither was Trump
But you can see clearly which one looked the part
Both party's stars are looking to triumph
Both party's stars are pledging a fresh start
Time and time again we hear campaign dreams
So it comes down to which candidate you believe in
Which candidate has less Pinnochio inseams
Which candidate you want to win
On November 5th the votes will be cast
And of importance, our American welfare is at stake
So think it over and be true and steadfast
So think it over and make ... no mistake
Logan Robertson
9/11/24
Sep 11, 2024
Sep 11, 2024 at 12:58 PM UTC
Where travail is nigh
but akin to her salary
the season is in throes
no kilter in resurgence
in these skintight jeans
on a Friday night here
that bowels have broke tide
and like an AK-47 hubbub
she had fought her way
with corsair and new party cochair
where hot and **** corsets mare
Nov 22, 2020
Nov 22, 2020 at 11:18 AM UTC
Kamala sunbathed
****** art
where in
heart she
fly to
virtual beach
in LA
so Leroy
fell and
took her
task there
in Philadelphia
her adherent
of folk
from downtown
here and
ole USA
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 6:45 AM UTC
unbroken things lacking edges,
if we augment our eyes, look close
to see creted places
fractured into
jagged edges/
Jagged edges prove the brokenness
the brokennesses prove the whole,
not that the whole was finished then as it is now.
Which phor you living for?
Of course,
the discourse of madness
self-improvement
DIY gettin' past crazy for good.
There is a crazy place, way past any we imagine,
crazier than hell, by virtue
of the fact
ya' gotta go through hell t' get there.
Practically every sage from Moses to Mises,
says that's the price we pay
for ignoring those chances, op portune tidbits of time,
to pay attention to
everything at once,
and see what seers have always said's truistic,
we find what's sought.
If nought were sought,
what did we miss?
Missing
Nothing,
ought not that
be enough to carry on with
for now?
Fret not, oughts are nullifed here,
it's a pretty crazy place.
Nothing's broken.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
Forwards and fore words are cult if ations, (cultureshapen)
words we would find mean more
than their idle kin dread, (a play)
if we had been reared
starting now
A push from behind,
God put padding for a reason,
Mrs. Marshall said. Second grade.
A word, to the wise, is enough.
Acculturation.
That's the clue that leads to leaven,
and a little leaven...
you know, or say you do, of course,
we've known yeast
resurrects in our bread, for eons and ages,
Good Lord.
We know how things work.
If we be honest,
some,
a little bit, we know how things work.
Sayin' hon, I ain't sure I know what honest was.
To tell the truth, I don't suppose anybody knows,
wit'out attention's terrible price,
secret price, only the paid and payer know it, ever.
Sacred makin', sacrifice,
that's a one time deal, for real.
A mortal man can't know until he dies if he unbelieved all his
lies, but his try's are said to give him some -umph,
----
What manner of men are we that it is given unto us
to be? That is an answer worth paying attention to chase, per
haps. Not, to be or not to be, what choice, before now? You know?
Remember, we asked. Together, we agreed,
that greed will draw us to the treasure,
do you mind my taking greed from agreed and making it work.
it does work. it is an essential elemental,
desire is another word they use, but that gives it more
purpose than greed, and calls for more minding of the process.
Once a reifying action has begun we must maintain our equilibrium,
or
find ourselves falling, once more, into dis-traction
on life's slipper slope.
Slipper-iness has meaning.
Ask any little princess planning to grease her foot with KY.
It can be good or bad, not good or evil.
Squeeks from the audience, sometimes signal gasps,
as agap is crossed, like a spark,
mnemonical daemonic algorythms, those ain't bad you understand?
The Intelligence in Re-al, 's'no accidental instance of order over chaos that just cain't quit,
that ain't it.
Geeks as you know geeks,
Gates, Jobs, 'nem, A. I. Imagineers,
did not write this algorithm of life, as it turns out,
The Idea of God seems not to have needed help
designing a safeground,
where kids can play.
Sam Harris axed me, vicar-iously, Do you believe in literal
re-sur-rection of some formerly
living thing/ any?
Yes, yeast, I do. It seems dead, only our knowing it's not
and proving other wise de-ifs the possibility it's dead, now alive.
It's like that cat box, Schrödinger has.
Anything is possible, God knows, Jesus even said so,
wit' God, all o'this is possible,
save lying and dying and failing to be good for me.
Living, it seems, is the deed we do
to prove living forever is worthy of trying,
happily ever after, starting now,
if you wish to stay mortal and never know,
you can't.
You know you die, so you die.
Forever,
that goes on.
It's hell to try that with no triumph in sight.
Alone, especially.
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 3:32 PM UTC
Hicky has been there to bleed a knife where once it traced him
in the knees like a robot he fought his colors in a foe but his registered *** offender agreed where feelings hurt inside the belt
that flood was never analgesic again and let him gun down nights
he walked alas with cleated shoes as future most often did ****** with just his uniform search for sovereignty and dignified marksman with courageousness that ended his justiceship in Harris County.
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 7:34 AM UTC