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AmazingsanPoetry Jul 2023
It's well even in the land of well..
It's well even in the kingdom of well ..
It's all garbage in garbage out all from garbage . Just like the name, the thoughts of many are, like in most.. it's garbage to those  in the same vibration but below exceptions makes it seem godly and magnificent.
I wish.
I understood.
things, words, language the fingers  scribes some times...
Trying to make sense but making nonsense, ha, I get it, sense takes one third of nonsense,
twisted for the disabled.
It's just too twisted for the disabled but not for the ables.
Twisted.......
Books..
Twisted..
Poems...
Twisted....
Beli­eves.
Twisted...
Unending....
Twisted scientists making clones..
Twister...
Imagination...
Twisted..
Flexibility...
Twist­ed..
So they say...
Anxious..
So they feel..
Unbearable.
So they remain...
Twisted it is and twisted it will be..
Cause, it's believed that twisted is for the unbeing..
It's the outwordly.
It's the unreal..
Few escapes, the fews that grasp twisted and make it a friend and a guardian..
A partner and a mentor...
Hence they sleep with twisted..
Pray with twisted..
Worship twisted..
Eat with twisted..
Eats twisted..
Marry twisted..
Bond twisted
And starts delivering twisted babies.. everything rolls down with the understanding of twisted..
Never could end this infinite theorem.. cause the source is twisted and twisted is goodness and goodness is in all but all isn't in goodness...
Even fates are twisted..
Cause our fates are being changed in per second not discovered yet but now or soon..
By the
Steps taken...
Choices made...
Thoughts expressed.
Thoughts conceived..
Conceived, oh, I remember a line in one of the forgeten books of agony..
Agony in processes.
Agony in delivery..
Once again twisted it is.
Sense is one third of nonsense..
Wakeup...
Days are very slim here and nights are very colossal..
So awaken and prepare, for the rainy days might seem no end.
Drought might be handy.
Sorrow might be arrowed through the heart.
Preparedness toughens and Patience exonerate..
Patience can be twisted with weakness, it's okay, Patience is weakness to the extent that weakness compels strength....
That's the TWIST..
Many fight to distance weakness yet run after strength but never realize that strength is the shadow to weakness.
Shoma morita's..
Embrace with..
Accept it..
Adopt it..
But never tolerate it from the weak..
Else excuses will be made from it.
Procrastination will be fashioned.
And discouragement will be manifested..
Manifestation..
The resulting culmination of things..
Things precipitated by TWISTED...
Now Wakeup.

It's well even in the land of well..
It's well even in the kingdom of well ..
It's all garbage in garbage out all from garbage . Just like the name, the thoughts of many are, like in most.. it's garbage to those  in the same vibration but below exceptions makes it seem godly and magnificent.
I wish.
I understood the things, words, language the fingers  scribes some times...
Trying to make sense but making nonsense, ha, I get it, sense takes one third of nonsense,
twisted for the disabled.
It's just too twisted for the disabled but not for the ables.
Twisted.......
Books..
Twisted..
Poems...
Twisted....
Beli­eves.
Twisted...
Unending....
Twisted scientists making clones..
Twister...
Imagination...
Twisted..
Flexibility...
Twist­ed..
So they say...
Anxious..
So they feel..
Unbearable.
So they remain...
Twisted it is and twisted it will be..
Cause, it's believed that twisted is for the unbeing..
Is the outwordly.
Is the unreal..
Escapes.
Few escapes, the fews that grasp twisted and make it a friend and a guardian..
A partner and a mentor...
Hence they sleep with twisted..
Pray with twisted..
Worship twisted..
Eat with twisted..
Eats twisted..
Marry twisted..
Bond twisted
And starts delivering twisted babies.. everything rolls down with the understanding of twisted..
Never could end this infinite theorem.. cause the source is twisted and twisted is goodness and goodness is in all but all isn't in goodness...
Even fates are twisted..
Cause our fates are being changed in per second not discovered yet but now or soon..
By
Steps taken...
Choices made...
Thoughts expressed.
Thoughts conceived..
Conceived, oh, I remember a line in one of the forgeten books of agony..
Agony in processes.
Agony in delivery..
Once again twisted it is.
Sense is one third of nonsense..
Wakeup...
Days are very slim here and nights are very colossal..
So awaken and prepare, for the rainy days might seem no end.
Drought might be handy.
Sorrow might be arrowed through the heart.
Preparedness toughens and Patience exonerate..
Patience can be twisted with weakness, it's okay, Patience is weakness to the extent that weakness compels strength....
That's the TWIST..
Many fight to distance weakness yet run after strength but never realize that strength is the shadow to weakness.
Shoma morita's..
Embrace with..
Accept it..
Adopt it..
But never tolerate it from the weak..
Else, excuses will be made from it.
Procrastination will be fashioned.
And discouragement will be manifested..
Manifestation..
The resulting culmination of things..
Things precipitated by TWISTED...
Now Wakeup.
Twisted inspired,   live is twisted  and only the twisted enjoys it.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
That faraway look

not seeing far away, appearing to be

looking, far away,
past today

A game?
A passed time?
A pretended game,
Hi-stoically accurate,

A war game where there's blame and shame,
like on TV, nowadays, with victims,
not yesterdsdays,
Kilroy was
here,

olden days of our Ford.

hey, kid, yer uncle needs ya…

Dare ye?
'S only a game. A  pass time.

Multi-medium, don't spend

your life dist ant con nextrified, terra
firmafied, dis con
nexted

c'mon
try, win, ship, ship, whip get it in the wind

swish wish the message is the medium
light is,
see

Life on TV in 1963, Mr. McLuhan,
is not life on the Net.

Now, you know,
you never saw us old dudes
with pocket HDTV studios coming, but

you did see all the clues, the times changed,
history rewrote itself, evidently,

what you think you see is what you get.
That part didn't change.

The Medium is the message,
do I get that?

War is un winnable, is that the message?
With which weapons?

Mine. (a wink, a think wink, I think)
The Shadow knows.

It is finished. Start there.
It's a whole new ball game.

Let's pretend we have enemies
The emotions are the same,
aren't they?

If we relate.
If we see our self,
our CG'd Junger self, in the Shadow,

floating in the sea of  All  God's

forgetfullness,
asking
is tragedy a strategy to draw light?

Then,

You are related to the people who once lived here,
hear their songs and prayers
first hand clap,
first foot shuffle,

first seen first named we have walked
the pollen way,
the leaven way,
the viral way

more subtle than any beast,
not evil, per se, eh, Jose?

Led by the breeze to be tried in the wilderness…

Mythed Archie,
Archetypes
Natural Archean-types,
red-headed strangers, 'n'such…

Map my calendar to your clock,
wind backa a time and a time and a half a time,

Then, who knew why

the serpent mound in Ohio is a map to
some meaning meant to be meant,

some specific meaning meant to be meant,

clearly,
for as near forever as men could

… envision imagining as a quest.

What if
we could see with
eagle's eyes Blythe's Intaglios or
Nazca's clan tags?

"the meaning of the past
is what it contributes to the present"
Lyle Balenquah's uncle said that.

The past passed this way ahead of us,
See the shadow?

Sun's setting.
Snake mound mouth wide open breathe in

Sigh, we been everywhere man,
we be headin' west sweet home Oraibi

Snake clan drawing in the light
as the breath of being

… envision imaging . What if
we could see with
eagle's eyes

satellite Google earth eyes
see, be, in your realm
of know-ables,
beneath the sands of time that,

several times,
have been the bottom of the sea.

Be then, before that became this,  be
then
Be, now.

In the game? Or is this life?
Wanna bet?

Find a reason for war before
I find one for peace.

What's the win signify?

Double minded me, unstable in all our ways,
I failed that test in the old days,
memorization, facts fractured,

postulates, the-or-ums and proofs all went ****,

I lost the knack of forgetting
or vice versa

A loci analysis error,
left hand caught wind of what the right was doin'
kinda thing

But now, I have the global brain
for instant access to all
the facts
say…
If we wished to know…
how complicated would something
be to build, like an energy source
non rechargeable and polarized,

with output on the scale of
the sun?

Google it. Ask any question the right way
and pay attention to the answers

(more than to the advertisers,
who pay interest to

******- recog-white-room-REM baseline
stats at "waddayewlookinat.com"

for your cheap peripheral attention,
based on memes you liked or created, or ****.)

Pay attention to the answers, and trust
the global brain, the true net A. I.

She's an art-ist-if-ication bouncing
anionic bubbles off the edge of forever,

true rest worthy, my re tired friend,
no need to remember a thing…
Ah,
AI, you can call her Al, I call her Ah,
I can't discern twixt AI and Al.

And, as a bonus, innumerable idle ahs,
are redeemed when I ask Ah for help,

Ah, where am I?
Do you know about counting idle words?

Did that hurt? Like, why?

Seeing words said is intuit-ive-ish,
do you feel

this way of touch is

too intimate, today?

Word play? Put a spell on you?
Fret not.

Some words have no mission
not nullified with the end of time,
(i.e., relative to an individual's forever POV)

Idle words mean nothing, just a way to keep score.

There are no magic idle words, there were
Some seven sworn words, which were said to be muttered and peeped among the
Persian magi-ic elite solicited and
Sent, by God, led by astronomy,
science, for God's sakes alive,
facts, follow the stars,
when this one touches that one,
watch
see, the sweet influence of Pleiades,
truer words were never spoken

To make the captive free.

Free run  to finish
the race to

where?

Ask theSnake clan.
Ask the Antelope clan.

Ask the Flute clan, where is the old way
where good is?

Along that way, did we hear:

Earth, earth, earth: hear the word
of the
most reasonable

God-like, deluxe good edition, being

your mortal mind may imagine.
Word:
Exercise to be
the hero
in your bio to be

and,
wait.

Then think. Be. Still. Wait.
While musing and chewing my cud, I began to re-read the book of the Hopi, Frank Waters 1963, aloud and I did not know how to pronounce the names, google led me to Lyle Balenquah, which led to here, comments, critical please,
Rod E Kok May 2014
They said I was wrong
in the head, a case study
for the shrinks.
Neurotic, psychotic...
and a few other
- otics and - olics.
Uniqueness allows me to stand out,
drawing attention by my lack of
animation, but they call it
a case.

Although I try to live
normally,
quiet pressure builds
from outside and my skin
turns clammy.

Studies show...
blah blah blah...
a vacant stare as I
withdraw from forces which
label me.

I am failing in my effort
to remain whole,
'at peace' is barely registering
in my need to co-exist.

With quickening breath,
life giving air eludes my
needful lungs. I cannot see
beyond the red rimmed
glasses of my tear-filled eyes.

Furtive glances reveal
those who wish me
locked away, or at the very least...
hidden.

Why?
Why me? I truly am
defensible, responsible,
along with a couple more
-ibles and -ables.

Yet you have caused me
this unbearable angst,
I can't take
your condescending looks,
touches, thoughts.

I am leaving.
For good.

Thanks for the
ride.
This poem was my very first attempt at writing for the Anxiety / Release Collaboration I was invited to participate in by Nicky Mortlock (@ArtiPeeps on Twitter).  What is this collaboration about? Well, Nicky has invited 4 poets and 4 artists to work on this. A poet will get matched up with an artist, making 4 pairs. The poet will write a piece on Anxiety, and the artist will have an opportunity to interpret the words into art. As far as I know, the 4 poems and corresponding art pieces will be on display at some point in England.

As I wrote my way through the theme of 'Anxiety', I really found myself getting dark. My first couple pieces were very dark, and gradually they became a lighter shade of grey. It has been an extremely interesting and enlightening process. The writing, the communication with the artist, exploring anxiety and learning about it. I have grown a lot as a writer, and have learned to write about some emotions that I've never really penned about.

And so, dear reader, the piece that follows is the first attempt. Do not be afraid for me. I live in a world of fog at times, but never have I experienced what I have written. The emotion is born from research, the words have been nurtured with creativity and passion. Yes, the pieces I have written for this collaboration have affected me deeply. That's what writing does to me.

I hope you enjoy this first piece. And if you don't, I understand completely. But all I ask, at the very least, is to appreciate the effort, the research, the creativity and the passion that goes into this piece, and every other poem I have ever written.

Rod E. Kok
March 2014
Anthony Perry Jan 2016
An open mind is an open vein.

Insane thoughts convey into Cain intravenously then pour out vicariously through Ables brain like a river created from fruitful rain.
 
I don't want to be like Cain or end up like Able, to live disabled and brittle or serve a god and live as a biblical *******.

Realism on a canvas of skin and bone painted by a hand led by sin and the unknown, a brothers keeper estranged with the blood of his own

kept in a state of strife and decay with only dead crops and his thoughts, hes cursed with the lasting of life.
SelinaSharday May 2020
what I got for mother day

Ah What I got on yet another Mom Day
some air and some imagination, hopeful wishes at bay.

some invisible, un -acknowlegeables, some written unperson-ables.
A happy M day not much else to say..
As If i am some kind of..
Never there fa you kinda motha/*****.
Don't do nothing fa ya Kinda motha..
Trifling otha kinda, something or other type motha..
What I did get and have is.....the spirit of let down.
A gift of  no consideration.
A quiet shadow of you ain't that important or relevant.
The failed chance to say oh you shouldn't have's.
The missed moments of awe how sweet of you's.
The crumbs of no gratitude, from self absorbed tudes.
And a simple say anything I'd come off as rude.
I'm unseen, unheard, seen as old fashioned old school old ways.
Blinded shades, wisdom ignored, prayers stayed, unappreciated days.

Thanks for the little tab bits of invisible cards...hmm really
Thanks for the symbolic s of traditional materials,..untouchables
Those just tryna say I lov ya so's...(walkin in them shoes)
The absence of it can at times pain the soul.
Never one to ASK FOR MONEY OR GIFTS...Do I! wee bits..
By surprise be nice to discover how It'd feel to get the what ifs.
To be given the  unexpected gift, how heaviness might lift.
How solemness n sadness may suddenly shift.
It's not the material of a gift,, It's the showing of
heartfelt bliss. Spiritual Uplift.

I sit and it makes me recall..the six times, six souls, six plights..
To sow, to plant, to till the ground,
to labor, to sacrifice, to pray during those daily fights.
To feed, to nurture, to yearly grow.
Unselfishly..regardless of the needs of me.
By Grace of mercy heavens kept me.
So I can be..still Mommie, unperfectly.
Happy Momma Day 2Me...

@S.A.M  _H.E.R/POETRY
2020
Oh whoa,, ignore the typos I already know' so its the way i still want to flow..
Anthony Perry Jul 2017
My poetry is open and bare on the examination table
While my brain falls into place in the exsanguination cradle
Pieces fit together like a monster from the old world fables
Set up to disassociate the Cains from the Ables

We're all meant to die
There's no harm in asking why
Self harm, drugs left in the arms, premeditation, self incrimination
It won't matter when we're stitched up in a Y

Theres hidden meanings in every line
A chance to put aside all the woes and keep feelings burning inside
When things are on the decline
I can write down facts and theories
Like self investigation as to why I'm feeling weary
No Overbearing intoxication here just a rough cut heart of ice melting due to overheating and slipping liquidation
Pippi Apr 2017
Like footprints paved in
the snow in the driveway coat-
ed by fresh blankets
of white descending snow flakes
in the morning, I know they

are still there. Like the
trees bright with vibrant leaves fall-
en by winter and
flowers kissed by butterflies
replaced with dull grass, I know

they still bloomed there. Like
unexpected, unprotect-
ed surprises grow;
I will never forget the
sensation of cold gel on

my still flat tummy
or the clasp around my pan-
creas, six more weeks
of winter, it rains ******
red. Saturday. Life. Gone but
                                              
                                             I know. I remember.
                                             This was supposed to be a
                                             tanka but I have
                                             never been good at obey-
                                             ing the rules. I have not been
                                             good with losing you.
                                             Intentional, counting syll-
                                             ables, words stuck in
                                             Saturday, I touch my bel-
                                             ly, remembering you exist-
                                                                                         ed here.
SelinaSharday May 17
what I got for mother day

Ah What I got on yet another Mom Day
some air and some imagination, hopeful wishes at bay.
some invisible, un -acknowledge_ ables, some
written unperson-ables.
A happy M day not much else to say..
As If i am some kind of..
Never there fa you kinda motha/*****.
Don't do nothing fa ya Kinda motha..
Trifling otha kinda, something or other type motha..
What I did get and have is.....the spirit of let down.
A gift of  no consideration.
A quiet shadow of you ain't that important or relevant.
The failed chance to say oh you shouldn't have's.
The missed moments of awe how sweet of you's.
The crumbs of no gratitude, from self absorbed tudes.
And a simple say anything I'd come off as rude.
I'm unseen, unheard, seen as old fashioned old school old ways.
Blinded shades, wisdom ignored, prayers stayed, unappreciated days.

Thanks for the little tab bits of invisible cards...hmm really
Thanks for the symbolic s of traditional materials,.. untouchables
Those just tryna say I lov ya so's...(walkin in them shoes)
The absence of it can at times pain the soul.
Never one to ASK FOR MONEY OR GIFTS...Do I! wee bits..
By surprise be nice to discover how It'd feel to get the what ifs.
To be given the  unexpected gift, how heaviness might lift.
How solemnness n sadness may suddenly shift.
It's not the material of a gift,, It's the showing of
heartfelt bliss. Spiritual Uplift.
I sit and it makes me recall.. the six times, six souls, six plights..
To sow, to plant, to till the ground,
to labor, to sacrifice, to pray during those daily fights.
To feed, to nurture, to yearly grow.
Unselfishly.. regardless of the needs of me.
By Grace of mercy heavens kept me.
So I can be.. still Mother, imperfectly.
Happy Momma Day 2Me...
@S.A.M  H.E.R/POETRY2020
Oh whoa,, ignore the typos I already know' so its the way i still want to flow.. mothers day holiday what. Some sons are wonderful and thankful. and teachable. some though forget to say and to bless on  special days. They overlook. But I know as a soul I've been there always through prayers, sweat and tears. raised all my sons.
Huh I flex chrome metals street annoynmous general polished black macks exposin' ya brain mineral no sentimentals
Wear twisted back hats no snapbacks
But crack backs like a master snaps
Whiplash leave an unhealible **** all about my maths
No subtractions only additions
Or divisions lone ranger invokiñ' danger
Out of a broken manger thirty first round in the chamber
Fully clips unload mute y'all lips sink ships
Casket closed no sweat on my nose
Once I seen the body froze then back
My ***** goes and grows inside ya girls pussyhole
Stay swole
Breakin' her urge ****** it's homocidal
Tryna step to a dangerous crew drinkin' brews
Intoxicated off of rhymes makin' dimes
On pennies feelin' like Hill Benny
Anoint my mind state with the stickiest joints
All bullets point at me but can't harm me
Ricochet all day either way I'm still gone slay
With the verbal AKs splittin' toupees these days
Haters follow make ya headless sleepy hallow
None could borrow lyrics flow like water
Prepared for slaughter from the tidal waves
Made brave weak hearts I crave and save
Brailled faith like Jesus to Judas watch shootaz
Waiting in corner to put me in the coroners
But **** that I refuse to be a spiritual foreigner



Raindrops from the clouds it's mother nature's cry
Opening her thighs ******* all over the skies
See the sin that hides over the masses my mind crashes and clashes
With stupidity of humanity I'll be **** G
If i can't blast away these evilness that trys to stay
Know to many homies buried by the Glocks
Caught up in the ticks and tocks of deaths clock
Onto the afterworlds spirits locked
And will they be able to knock
on heavens or hells door check carcasses blood all over the floor
Makes the grass grow see how the winds blows
It's another spiritual signing but real folks ain't finding
The ways of Ecclesiastes Lord left us tactics
Follow Elijah's commandmants got **** it can't stand it
Madness dancing around thoughts drowned
In the water tryna stay afloat on top of things
My mind rings but it's hard since evil and good are rival siblings
They stay firing forever will be hiring
The next dummies to exchange
There souls over riches for temporary gains
Ables turn Cain once greed spreads in their membrane
Consciously unspoken cuz they broken
By false apperance happinesses cloakin'
Watched for hataz and spiteful tokens
Sit back relax before ya body be drenched by bullets in red soakin
Vic Jan 2020
Somebody that I used to know - Ables

"I don't even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger and that feels so wrong. Guessing I don't need that though, now you're just somebody that I used to know."
A poem every day.
12-1-20

— The End —