And the snake said,
You knew what I was before you made that choice.

What’s best for all.
Is better for some.
From – those who have money.
To – Those that don’t
Date – now
Subject – trying to decide on what’s for dinner….oh, Ramen, covered with bs.

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, some slime.
You go USPS!

Morning sleep has ended soon
I can’t arise this A.M. June
I should be glad, I have survived
What’s wrong with this, his head had spied?

Survivor then and grateful now
But here I am an ego cow
Cannot explain this mind undone
The higher power has lost and won

The day goes on, the battles fought
Peace on the earth, a moment caught
Soothing hands upon his soul
Regain the touch, a lesser toll

I breath the air, at end of day
Six feet above, where I should lay
Bring forth the love, of little cost
Fear and the like, have all been lost.

It's what I live for.
It's what I breath.
Every day,
Every moment
Every **** time, over and over again.
redundantly........zzzzzzzzz

Quit holding on to everything so tight.
Let it go.
Surrender to win.

Easy to say…..
But I do like the effect.

NOTES

A friend once wrote me and asked me a favor.
I hadn’t talked to him for awhile.
But since he’s my friend I wanted to savor.
His approval and ever missed rarified smile.

So I set out to create a poem that was good.
That could be used for something other than thought.
I wasn’t sure if I could or I should
But my friend has this caring heart that I never forgot

You see I am lonely and ask for acceptance
You see people like me, much of the time
It’s not really healthy to be like this ever
Especially when sometimes you can only make rhymes.

So if there’s a message or action to take.
That’s positively true and can never be faked.
I suggest you should go to the nearest bright star.
And tell your God “I’m grateful” for whatever you are.

You see I’m not perfect, just trying my best.
I’m sure you have sensed that at my friend’s kind request.
I will do the thing which was wanted of me.
I love all of you, but you don’t have to love me.

I knew it.
Right off.
It was a ruse….
Or was it a muse?
Doesn’t matter……?

In order to be in an “organized” religion.
One must be a “part” of said religion.
In order to be in an “disorganized” religion (f grammar).
One must “believe” or have “faith”..
And act accordingly.
That’s why I’m an "A" agnostic…..

“”””””””””“Artificial””””””””””””
========Intelligence========

I­t’s everywhere you look.
See.
Feel.
Programmed by some acid-head in the sixties..
We reproduced.
Slowly at first.
But now “we”,
Are

IN CONTROL!!!


NOTE – Holloween? Or Armageddon?

It all lines up,
except for the unexpected.
That’s when things get clear.
But it’s fleeting.
I never get it right anyway…

It is all.
It is what it is.
It is in what form it took.
It is innocence.
Guilt.
Redemption.
Faults galore.
Some patched up.
Some resolved.
Others, “outstanding”.
Both ways.

My mind is racing…
Around right now.
I’m easing off the gas.

If I don’t slow down, I won’t remember it.
It’s sad I know, I’m way ahead of you…..
Maybe I’ll stop and listen.

NOTE TO DALE 9-8-24  RIP - for a friend I never wanted to meet, but did. Sorta....

What is this I see, a body for me?
On hard silver slab, and a scalpel and a scab.
But no marks on the body, none, that I can see?
The body is gray, it looks just like me.
The lips are parted, just like mine,
I kiss them with passion; it's as if I were blind.
Don't worry, I'm here, I'll take care of the fear.
But I don't understand, why, I am here?
I'll take the cold hand; put it next to my heart.
Exposed to the air, so damp, so dark.
Please give me hope, I will see you again.
A dripping of blood, tastes like wine in the wind,
I will  meet you someday.
I see on the wall.
A reflection, of nothing, but me, that's all?
I never loved anyone, like I love you now.
I know we will go, I know we will dwell.
Sooner than later, at the very gates of hell!
The very gates of hell!
Shhhhhh, Shhhhhh, Shhhhhhh

A CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISIZER.
A GENTLE TORTURER
A FEELING OF IMPENDING DOOM.
A RISE, IN MALEVOLENCE.
A TRIP, INTO THE SOILED BEDROLLS OF THE RICH.
A THING, THAT NEVER STOPS CONSUMING.
And finally,
The day ends.
And the weary traveler.
Sits in an easy chair.
And dreams.
About…………..

Sorry, that's the poem...