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I keep thinking the world has two parallel dimensions..
One where you live, breath and touch..
It is what you see..
Another one is where your dreams are...
It is where you would like to be...
Sometimes those dimensions overlap..
And your dreams become a reality..
Or maybe we live in a dimension where everything is a dream...
And reality is an illusion..
Whatever the answer is...
I want to write poetry that will transcend both dimensions..
Poetry that will inspire readers to dream...
And dreamers to enjoy reality...
what is your dream?..
 6d Larry
**** global resets
same old famines same old wars
great awakenings
against deep state cabalism
bringing the fear of God back
Put on the full armor of God. It’s gonna be biblical!
Drowning in your clarion words,
Bereaved by fallen songbirds

No, I'm not pretty, not even cool,
Society is but a blemished jewel

The crown of humanity,
Lies in hands of vanity

It's time to regain our throne,
And a kiss from me to you, you're not alone
Whatever it takes...
 Nov 15 Larry
Kafka Joint
To gloriously come back,
We have to ******* first.
 Nov 12 Larry
Grace E
First He came as a lamb
A sacrifice had to be made
He exchanged His life for ours
A high price for sin had to be paid

The sand in the hour glass has been falling
Years move at a faster and faster pace
He’s held back His hand of judgement
And extended His hand of grace

They’re going to hate Christians
That’s what the Bible says
They’ll try to make us denounce our faith
True followers will be faithful to the end

Jesus takes His church
The rapture, when we are taken away
The antiChrist will reign for 7 years
3 years will be good, but 4 will be evils payday

First He came as a lamb
A blameless offering,
But next, the lion of the tribe of Judah
Is coming as the King
 Nov 8 Larry
Two *****

I don’t give two *****,
because I have no ***** to provide.
I’m all out of *****, I used them all,
not one **** in my supply.

If I had a **** to give.
I would save it for a rainy day.
I have become frugal with my *****,
I don’t just give them away.

***** are expensive,
they come with a hefty fee.
You have to earn my *****.
I don’t give them away for free
I got nothing.
 Nov 7 Larry
Comrade, our fragile freedoms are gone.
We just don't know it yet. We've been
betrayed by our politicians who sold
their empty souls for bags of silver.
We send our sons to die in their wars.
They drink Champagne toasting wins
and dismiss massacres as bad luck.
Where did it all go wrong? We pay.
 Nov 6 Larry
Rob Cohen

we are the square-eyed children
who swim in radio waves
from our rooms of solitude,
painted in blue moods
and hues of synchronized views
with our online friends,
who refresh our highlight reels
to hollow barrels of silent
stone faced laughter
and muted,
seated ovation.

eyes glued to the all-seeing screen
blind in a bubble of bloated ego,

flaccid placid photographers
who play the spectator
part-time role
behind narrow focused lenses
which see more than our eyes
who specialize in self-portraits,
chopping cropping
the big picture,
only to fit our bigger heads
and the dead stares of our square-eyes.


there is more life
in a morgue
than in these crowds
of Medusa's tongue-tied
eye-contact shy
gargoyle features,

stonewall statue seas
and paralyzed shoe-gazers
who fade in and out of frame
on clouds of clout
and self-doubt.


we are the proud people
who sold the paradise of Eden
for currents of electric disconnection,
the prodigal people
who vacated thrones
for apples made in caves,
manned by child slaves.

protesters with placard
profile pictures
who have never ticked boxes
at the vacant polling stations.

Hercules armed
with one hundred and forty
keyboard swords,
struck down by David's
slingshot of actual action.


specialists in matrimonial failure
chasing bluebird ticks
in sickness and unhealthy
fixes of quick ***** remedies.

deadbeat parents
who build broken homes
and damage children playthings
for insta gratification
by the gram.

who spend more
on therapy bills and numbing pills,
and spend less time
reading bedtime books.


we are the walking dead
who pretend to care
with our online friends
but wouldn't dare
stare the serpent
in the eye.

who defend with triggers
of offended offence gestures,

leaving a trail of despair
while we run scared,
frail, with our tails
between our shaking legs.

we are the walking dead
square-eyed children.

we are the future.
Sinful proclivities
Yep, still got 'em

Gifts and abilities
Got a few too

Freedom and Chance
Freedom and Necessity
Some freedom to choose?

What still will I do?
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