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#interesting
Here is where unfurling functions best, Bolts of calico and honest to God purple Velvet skirted Dine' lady, noble mejor, she With her Zuni concho belt and squash blossom Pendant perhaps honoring the blossom, per se Doubt free, this is us, joined at the verbs, Linked like fibers in a thread twisted for years, Followed back, through lists of favorite things, Inevitably the original grammar **** returns, with a Vision, made plain as day, once, nations are made of Us, we the people who use these living words to make Peace, where none has been, in living memory, But we pray today, any way, we expect yes, let peace Reign locally, the whole world gets the idea and Trumps the fool at the table betting truth is not God. Sub-rosa, eh, a rose is a rose, Gertrude told me. The Lie, that all men are not liars, is oft sold little thinkers, And that is the truth each tells itself, we are chosen ones.
0
Aug 15, 2025
Aug 15, 2025 at 11:02 AM UTC
Peace in our presents sent as prayers
of all the calamities it's this one that does it. chewing on fantasies wears my bite down. i'm eroding, my feathers are fading         away. i'm going, to be someone someday.
0
Apr 29, 2025
Apr 29, 2025 at 3:51 PM UTC
⛰️
I sought recovery. After my first breakup. Social service attracted me. I volunteered to teach for free. Soon, I was back to old ways. Delving deep into romance, Finding my lucky chance, Addiction called me again. A co-volunteer she was. And why not? Why not? Me, she found interesting, Who doesn't like an artist? But she was a cold-blooded narcissist. Yes, bigger than me, bigger than me, Her pursuits included the world, My pursuit was limited to her. What went on in my life, What she put me through, What I found myself dealing with, What I went through during that time. Tasked with thirteen exams, Me she had challenged, Her narcissistic ways, I cleared them all, She was a liar, Had a bloated ego, I deflated her balloon, She finally inflated mine.
0
Oct 16, 2024
Oct 16, 2024 at 2:53 AM UTC
New Love in 2009
Esoteric, Edgar Cayce, yes, a memory, a version, no known reason weighing needful to be told, proven, try umphed past to when now becomes original intention, to mention the crew involved in building the stack of words spelling all many ancient tales attest as real significant events, once upon this very point, where this many angels once danced in tunes attempting to prove the pastlessness of certain points in time.
0
Jun 29, 2024
Jun 29, 2024 at 4:09 PM UTC
A Public Prelude, to the Muse's Uses
Some people remind me of a campfire, a source of eclectic senses: the smoky wood, the evolutionary fascination of the flame, the warmth and chill of a starry night. Others remind me of a snow day in grade school, a source of jittery incongruence: the sprinkles of white, the disruption of monotonous school work, the mischief of nature coming to the rescue. You remind me of an early morning rain, a source of calm melancholy: the soft droplets on leaves, the lessened saturation from the overcast, the heightened realization and contentment of one's existence. The essence of people epitomized as scenes and collective experiences; it is not so much of what it is but rather how it makes you feel.
0
Apr 12, 2024
Apr 12, 2024 at 6:36 PM UTC
The Essence of People
/ Blade Running \ Making memories, Wondering who sent for me, If it wasn’t you then who was it, & if you didn’t send for me then why are you here next to me, Self preservation is the first law of nature, From animal to human from human to machine, Antisocial butterflies restlessly cramped in our cocoons, Part plant part mineral part alien fully human being, Sure we converse with other persons, But we converse more with ChatGPT, Hey AI I have a question, Do ‘Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’, Even Philip K **** Doesn’t know what the answer is to this mystery is, Half man half nocturnal machine, Half real life half diurnal dream, Were we born or were we made maybe it’s the same thing, Maybe there isn’t a difference or so it would seem, “You don’t believe, In miracles because you’ve never seen a miracle.”, That’s why you’re willing to **** for a fee, & why you’re always so sterile & cynical, & maybe that’s why I write, More than I do anything else, As a way of trying to jog your memory, While running up the bill, At the bar trying to wash away, Things that still affect me even though they can’t be totally recalled, In this present day sci-fi anti-climactic dystopia like Arnold, Call me Jack of All Trades & I’ll call you Jill of It All, Getting drowsy, Must be the pills, On a plane, On my way to somewhere else, Travel so much, Sometimes I wake up & don’t know what country I’m in, It’s a dog eat dog world so cat naps can be dangerous, Especially when you drink while sleep walking on Ambien, A creature with amnesia & beautiful features, How’d you become such a miracle, Are you really that perfect, Or is that just the way I remember you, Guess it doesn’t matter either way, Because maybe I don’t even remember you, Maybe you’re not mine because maybe you never were, Maybe nothing is mine not even the memories I have of you, Maybe it’s all just programing, Maybe we’re all just programs, Programed to play our part, In The Grand Program, Programmed by the wizard behind the curtain, Or by the woman behind the glass wall, Maybe in the end we have the same thing we had in the beginning, Which is absolutely nothing at all, Maybe that’s why I’m making memories, Wondering who sent for me, If it wasn’t you then who was it, & if you didn’t send for me then why are you here next to me, Self preservation is the first law of nature, From animal to human from human to machine, Antisocial butterflies restlessly cramped in our cocoons, Part plant part mineral part alien fully human being, Sure we converse with other persons, But we converse more with ChatGPT, Hey AI I have a question, Do ‘Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’, Even Philip K **** Doesn’t know what the answer is to this mystery is… ∆ LaLux ∆ From ABC: The Beginning Of The End Available worldwide on all platforms and in all mediums, Audiobook, Paperback, Digital, and Hardcover
0
Feb 4, 2024
Feb 4, 2024 at 1:57 AM UTC
Blade Running
/ Blade Running \ Making memories, Wondering who sent for me, If it wasn’t you then who was it, & if you didn’t send for me then why are you here next to me, Self preservation is the first law of nature, From animal to human from human to machine, Antisocial butterflies restlessly cramped in our cocoons, Part plant part mineral part alien fully human being, Sure we converse with other persons, But we converse more with ChatGPT, Hey AI I have a question, Do ‘Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’, Even Philip K **** Doesn’t know what the answer is to this mystery is, Half man half nocturnal machine, Half real life half diurnal dream, Were we born or were we made maybe it’s the same thing, Maybe there isn’t a difference or so it would seem, “You don’t believe, In miracles because you’ve never seen a miracle.”, That’s why you’re willing to **** for a fee, & why you’re always so sterile & cynical, & maybe that’s why I write, More than I do anything else, As a way of trying to jog your memory, While running up the bill, At the bar trying to wash away, Things that still affect me even though they can’t be totally recalled, In this present day sci-fi anti-climactic dystopia like Arnold, Call me Jack of All Trades & I’ll call you Jill of It All, Getting drowsy, Must be the pills, On a plane, On my way to somewhere else, Travel so much, Sometimes I wake up & don’t know what country I’m in, It’s a dog eat dog world so cat naps can be dangerous, Especially when you drink while sleep walking on Ambien, A creature with amnesia & beautiful features, How’d you become such a miracle, Are you really that perfect, Or is that just the way I remember you, Guess it doesn’t matter either way, Because maybe I don’t even remember you, Maybe you’re not mine because maybe you never were, Maybe nothing is mine not even the memories I have of you, Maybe it’s all just programing, Maybe we’re all just programs, Programed to play our part, In The Grand Program, Programmed by the wizard behind the curtain, Or by the woman behind the glass wall, Maybe in the end we have the same thing we had in the beginning, Which is absolutely nothing at all, Maybe that’s why I’m making memories, Wondering who sent for me, If it wasn’t you then who was it, & if you didn’t send for me then why are you here next to me, Self preservation is the first law of nature, From animal to human from human to machine, Antisocial butterflies restlessly cramped in our cocoons, Part plant part mineral part alien fully human being, Sure we converse with other persons, But we converse more with ChatGPT, Hey AI I have a question, Do ‘Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’, Even Philip K **** Doesn’t know what the answer is to this mystery is… ∆ LaLux ∆ From ABC: The Beginning Of The End Available worldwide on all platforms and in all mediums, Audiobook, Paperback, Digital, and Hardcover
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72
{Original} If life was a day... What would a day in the life look like? ©2024
0
Feb 3, 2024
Feb 3, 2024 at 4:54 PM UTC
~•§•~ Life in a Day ~•§•~
Eddy, Bank Robber When I worked in Park Cake Bakery there was an interesting guy I worked with. His name was Eddy. Now Eddy had a very sharp mind, was an alpha male and had several scars on his face from old fights. It wasn’t his cake making or scars that got our attention; it was his professional criminal past. He was a bank robber who used guns to do it. They’d gone to a bank and made a withdrawal in the coolest way. “Give us the cash or we’ll plug you! Fill up the bags. Used notes only.” The bank staff did as told just like in a gangster film. And that was that. They had the cash and would’ve been best investing it in bricks and mortar Brink’s-Mat robbery style. The cops caught them later and he got serious jail time. Upon release he worked in the bakery. The guy who ran the work agency gave him a job as he was an ex copper and wanted to let Eddy have a chance going straight. And straight he went being a good worker. Eddy’s first words to me were: “Hey mate, do I know you? From jail?” I knew I had to be careful with this one, paranoia, sharp mind and he looked quite handy. I replied, “You know me now mate! How are you doing?” We got on very well. Eddy told me some stories after one of the other lads, who was also quite handy but on a lower level told me of Eddy’s past. “He robs banks.” I asked Eddy on this and he asked me who told me. I said one of the lads but I don’t want you hurting him. He was fine. I said I knew a bank robber when I was in the south before. They’re what I call alternative businessmen. They rob a bank and don’t have to be wage slaves. They know the risks and the cash is actually insured so is paid back to the bank. There was in issue with a young Pakistani lad. Words were said as Eddy was close to a very pretty Asian lady who the lad also liked. There was a bit of pushing and shoving in the cake storage area. Later both said sorry and shook on it. Eddy came back to work as he was fired due to an incident. This led to another display of his temper. He had a pal who had a Queen’s crown neck tattoo. They both had a row. They were ten or twenty yards apart and such was Eddy’s word that his mate took a step back! This was after he argued with the bakery manager, a woman who was like a bloke. She took it and gave it back. Time moved on and I left the bakery. I worked briefly in Littlewoods in Shaw. And who did I see there? Eddy! My opening words to him were: “Where’s my guinea pig?” It was cool to see Eddy there. I missed him. We chatted and I told him of the incident I saw with his pal. He said did I see it and I replied I did, all of it. It was funny looking back but Eddy could’ve hurt his pal seriously. I’m glad he didn’t. We worked in the warehouse picking and packing orders. There was another incident with a young Pakistani guy again. Words were said and Eddy gripped him and let’s say told him off. The Pakistani reported the ex armed robber to the supervisors. The two were separated on different floors. Eddy went to the guy’s work area and ‘told him’ off again! The guy never said a bad word to Eddy ever again. Eddy told me his dad owned a pub near where I used to live. He dad was a big fan of both Numan and Bowie, the superb 80s singers. His dad liked both the same not one over the other. I wish I’d have spent more time talking to Eddy as he was the real deal. We civilians don’t get to meet real life gangsters very often, part of the underworld. I’m not talking about stealing cars or shop lifting. Eddy was the real deal. If he robs more banks I want him to remain free. I hope he’s fine and healthy right now. Did you know he also had an A Level in art? He was quite a guy. ***
0
Nov 6, 2021
Nov 6, 2021 at 3:21 PM UTC
Eddy, Bank Robber
Eddy, Bank Robber When I worked in Park Cake Bakery there was an interesting guy I worked with. His name was Eddy. Now Eddy had a very sharp mind, was an alpha male and had several scars on his face from old fights. It wasn’t his cake making or scars that got our attention; it was his professional criminal past. He was a bank robber who used guns to do it. They’d gone to a bank and made a withdrawal in the coolest way. “Give us the cash or we’ll plug you! Fill up the bags. Used notes only.” The bank staff did as told just like in a gangster film. And that was that. They had the cash and would’ve been best investing it in bricks and mortar Brink’s-Mat robbery style. The cops caught them later and he got serious jail time. Upon release he worked in the bakery. The guy who ran the work agency gave him a job as he was an ex copper and wanted to let Eddy have a chance going straight. And straight he went being a good worker. Eddy’s first words to me were: “Hey mate, do I know you? From jail?” I knew I had to be careful with this one, paranoia, sharp mind and he looked quite handy. I replied, “You know me now mate! How are you doing?” We got on very well. Eddy told me some stories after one of the other lads, who was also quite handy but on a lower level told me of Eddy’s past. “He robs banks.” I asked Eddy on this and he asked me who told me. I said one of the lads but I don’t want you hurting him. He was fine. I said I knew a bank robber when I was in the south before. They’re what I call alternative businessmen. They rob a bank and don’t have to be wage slaves. They know the risks and the cash is actually insured so is paid back to the bank. There was in issue with a young Pakistani lad. Words were said as Eddy was close to a very pretty Asian lady who the lad also liked. There was a bit of pushing and shoving in the cake storage area. Later both said sorry and shook on it. Eddy came back to work as he was fired due to an incident. This led to another display of his temper. He had a pal who had a Queen’s crown neck tattoo. They both had a row. They were ten or twenty yards apart and such was Eddy’s word that his mate took a step back! This was after he argued with the bakery manager, a woman who was like a bloke. She took it and gave it back. Time moved on and I left the bakery. I worked briefly in Littlewoods in Shaw. And who did I see there? Eddy! My opening words to him were: “Where’s my guinea pig?” It was cool to see Eddy there. I missed him. We chatted and I told him of the incident I saw with his pal. He said did I see it and I replied I did, all of it. It was funny looking back but Eddy could’ve hurt his pal seriously. I’m glad he didn’t. We worked in the warehouse picking and packing orders. There was another incident with a young Pakistani guy again. Words were said and Eddy gripped him and let’s say told him off. The Pakistani reported the ex armed robber to the supervisors. The two were separated on different floors. Eddy went to the guy’s work area and ‘told him’ off again! The guy never said a bad word to Eddy ever again. Eddy told me his dad owned a pub near where I used to live. He dad was a big fan of both Numan and Bowie, the superb 80s singers. His dad liked both the same not one over the other. I wish I’d have spent more time talking to Eddy as he was the real deal. We civilians don’t get to meet real life gangsters very often, part of the underworld. I’m not talking about stealing cars or shop lifting. Eddy was the real deal. If he robs more banks I want him to remain free. I hope he’s fine and healthy right now. Did you know he also had an A Level in art? He was quite a guy. ***
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16
Instincts rising from the ashes A long forgotten rage Boasted proudly long ago Now seems to fade with age Through blood and war torn battlegrounds, A fierce loyalty was wrought- Because even back then the people knew Happiness can’t be bought Time may heal all wounds, And things may change with age But for those who carry that ancient anger The future is their cage We praised them and we trained them With murderous intent Then peace dulled our edge And into the corner they went And though peace isn’t shameful, It just doesn’t seem fair- That for something once so prized Now they must despair.
0
Jun 7, 2021
Jun 7, 2021 at 1:04 PM UTC
War Cry
My distant uncle artie passed me nothing but the intuition that permission has been granted, there are no secrets now. The cabals and covens and encorporations, all naked now, see the love -- as you imagine love is -- that love of money is the root of all evil, so what was the seed? Where did this idea arise? Really, in you, when did some messenger convince you, if there is a hero in this story, you're it? Gotcha. Gotta play, or bet me it ain't worth my time… in the future 2020 Job 39 labour is in vain with out fear… really holy ghost roulette, I heard somebody say, - it says the ostrich has no dread - she is reek-empty lacking any fear - for she has no wisdom or understanding, yet - if she gets her dander up she can put a knight to shame. Key ** quick sought it tic We proceed, forget forgotten foregone conclusions, aims at nothing, hit it. Right on. We won. You. Your POV, who plays you, in the morning. This has been a notable day. These are those notes, some may link to bigger things, I hope they do, quick, sot, tic th'clock turnem'n't'wizened old men, musing, harmless as doves. Fool's wize, ready to roll, this is where we are at the peak, this is what Sisyphus is all about, in the end, letting go, laughing at the promised land and letting go, step-aside, bow to gravity, and laugh at mopey minded Camus fans, stirring bitter herb into the soup cosmo, cosmic, soup, primigenisis Bos, Boss, you familiar with the term, Bos? Aurochs in the imaginings of fat priests and their doped initiates, meeting mystery where wisdom led, by a thread, from the maze, from the cave, where fear itself was all you had to fear… Go ye… -O' Jonathan Edwards, did his spider sting ye, lad? - we fixt that, - we gave ye a wonder of - who spun this thread I hang by, in these - angry hands the teachers taught Jonathon - to believe, or else die and learn the truth… makes free -nope, not in hell. Hermeneutics dictate truth being known in hell is impossible, for lack of truth in hell. It was a riddle. Then it got monetized, like April Fool's Day and Purgatorial Enemas and hell, Satan as Boss. That hell is a lie, polidimensa-ionally approaching infinity, you can imagine it in ever, whenever you wish, just reme reem aurochs, wow, tripped, and bounced in Joshua Tree, slo-mo memorie sticks with me, I was pre- served, invincible at that moment, and several others, if you think about it, it would have killed you, but it didn't, you remember. Everybody knows, it coulda been me.
0
Nov 10, 2020
Nov 10, 2020 at 11:17 PM UTC
They Found His Bones in Ethiopia
My distant uncle artie passed me nothing but the intuition that permission has been granted, there are no secrets now. The cabals and covens and encorporations, all naked now, see the love -- as you imagine love is -- that love of money is the root of all evil, so what was the seed? Where did this idea arise? Really, in you, when did some messenger convince you, if there is a hero in this story, you're it? Gotcha. Gotta play, or bet me it ain't worth my time… in the future 2020 Job 39 labour is in vain with out fear… really holy ghost roulette, I heard somebody say, - it says the ostrich has no dread - she is reek-empty lacking any fear - for she has no wisdom or understanding, yet - if she gets her dander up she can put a knight to shame. Key ** quick sought it tic We proceed, forget forgotten foregone conclusions, aims at nothing, hit it. Right on. We won. You. Your POV, who plays you, in the morning. This has been a notable day. These are those notes, some may link to bigger things, I hope they do, quick, sot, tic th'clock turnem'n't'wizened old men, musing, harmless as doves. Fool's wize, ready to roll, this is where we are at the peak, this is what Sisyphus is all about, in the end, letting go, laughing at the promised land and letting go, step-aside, bow to gravity, and laugh at mopey minded Camus fans, stirring bitter herb into the soup cosmo, cosmic, soup, primigenisis Bos, Boss, you familiar with the term, Bos? Aurochs in the imaginings of fat priests and their doped initiates, meeting mystery where wisdom led, by a thread, from the maze, from the cave, where fear itself was all you had to fear… Go ye… -O' Jonathan Edwards, did his spider sting ye, lad? - we fixt that, - we gave ye a wonder of - who spun this thread I hang by, in these - angry hands the teachers taught Jonathon - to believe, or else die and learn the truth… makes free -nope, not in hell. Hermeneutics dictate truth being known in hell is impossible, for lack of truth in hell. It was a riddle. Then it got monetized, like April Fool's Day and Purgatorial Enemas and hell, Satan as Boss. That hell is a lie, polidimensa-ionally approaching infinity, you can imagine it in ever, whenever you wish, just reme reem aurochs, wow, tripped, and bounced in Joshua Tree, slo-mo memorie sticks with me, I was pre- served, invincible at that moment, and several others, if you think about it, it would have killed you, but it didn't, you remember. Everybody knows, it coulda been me.
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81
I don't think, as I reach up, As I reach up, the stars shrink, The stars shrink, and like glass cuts, And like glass cuts, I don't think, The stars fall, and like glass cuts, And like glass cuts, the clouds stall, The clouds stall, it won't end, but- It wont end, but the stars fall, We can't die, it won't end, but- It won't end, but I can't cry, I can't cry, 'cause in my gut, 'Cause in my gut, we can't die. I don't think, 'cause in my gut, 'Cause in my gut, it's all drink, It's all drink, I don't know what, I don't know what, I don't think.
0
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 7:18 PM UTC
Recursion Test
you took me to the natural history museum the one next to the flower garden you didn't hold my hand or you might have my hair locked in an abrasive ponytail pulling at my ears everytime the ceilings were like giants making me feel meek and important in a forgetful way the way you don't think about the leaves coming back in early March one day they're just there and you're opening the windows again the way you're meant to you walked the spotless corridors and I trailed behind always fearing the immense T-Rex at the front of the room that followed you with its' eyes one blink and the head could swivel the knees would buckle and the colossus could devour you in a dignified gulp ending at the bottom of a salacious belly full of tender body parts and terrifying things like men pretending to be gods trapped at the bottom of a well no invention of fire could extinguish that darkness reaching into my pocket for binoculars when I finally look up you're gone past the ancient artifacts there's a grin and a woman attached to it and I can see that you're nervous because your feet are dancing back and forth from their heels to their toes and the laughter echoes through all the rooms poignant and full each room has a theme and I swim from one diorama to the next alone I can feel myself melting with history sticking to my clothes like gum cotton candy falling into a puddle gone before you can even taste it
0
May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 2:09 AM UTC
meet me by the exhibit with the extinct exotic plants
If I do have wisdom, Why can’t I recognize? And if I don’t know that it’s wisdom, Well... am I even wise?
0
May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020 at 11:48 PM UTC
...
There's something so simple Yet so utterly complex In the use of words They flow out like rivers Rough and in bursts at first Then they calm down, Smooth into fluid speech With much less fear of being misunderstood Yet, maybe so Now more than ever Fear that our words are misinterpreted That our rivers have been secretly redirected Pooling elsewhere in small amounts - Jay M April 22nd, 2020
0
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 3:26 PM UTC
Words Like Water
I say if this is true. Here it's true, there it is a story, we understand. This is all we do. We bher life's meaning. We stand for you, holding truth as self evidence, for when you feel meaning less, we signify reason to try next once more in significant qualia quants for common sense at little green apple level. Not much a little think , a photon size Einsteinian think. True of false? This happens all the time. It feels like you understand something that makes no sense. And it feels so good. Nothin' missin' Like a perk on the spaceship earth cruise, an add in fun item late in the game. Okeh. Your play.
0
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 5:58 PM UTC
Indiv-id-u waiting next in lifes' game
Storm. Lightning flashes in the sky. It could brighten any night. Then you hear the thunder. And you may begin to wonder, What is coming up ahead? just a simple shower? Or a mighty storm with awesome power? You hear the rain falling from the skies, then You tightly close your eyes. You just want it all to end oh but my Friend the storm has only just begun. Lightning flashes in the sky. It could brighten any night. By T.J. Tom
0
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 2:35 AM UTC
Storm
I find it interesting how Happy you can make me feel. I find it interesting how Easily you can make me forget.
0
Mar 4, 2020
Mar 4, 2020 at 10:46 AM UTC
You
If only I could live among the reflections in the water-- for they are more real than I ever have been. Though they may disappear with a churning, gusty wind or a starless night, aren't they more perpetual than we? Perhaps they are ghosts, shadows; or perhaps they are just as weighed by flesh as we are--but can we know? How the grass is certainly greener there! We are but specters of vapor, imprisoned in our carcasses. Are we so human that the intangibles, the ineffables, the divine ideas are beyond our grasp? How short life is, dear one! Is it not more fit to remain for a while, emblazoned in light, than to wink out of ****** existence without ever having lived?
0
Feb 11, 2020
Feb 11, 2020 at 5:45 AM UTC
Reflection on Reflections (Existential Crisis #17)
When I see you I can’t help but smile The look in your eyes is to die for And that gorgeous radiant laugh can be heard for miles You leave your business card in my shoe when I visit I still have each and every one When I’m not around, I miss it I draw hearts on your calendar when you look away I love when you find them It makes my day And no matter what happens you know I love you That regardless of anything Or the distance that grew You’ll always be with me until the end And I’ll always be here For my lovely best friend
0
Dec 29, 2019
Dec 29, 2019 at 2:38 AM UTC
Best Friend