"bonafide" poems
Softly seductive, some solvent serenity
Under unbelievable umbrella unlimited
Basking baked, both bonafide believers
Making music more meaningful, memory's made
Intellectual, introspective, incalculably impervious
So **** said sits salted, suspecting supplantation
Soon silly slips said summarize serendipitous
Indefinitely inplosive, internalized into intangible inflagrante
Viciousness voided, vague variables vital
Eroticism enduring, end erit empathy
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
A pen a pen my little pen
Slowly, I took a little pen
To write a poem with a pen
A poem, to beautify my pen
It’s a bonafide my little pen
A bar-like, my woody pen
A new, and passion my pen
It’s a grey-hued and little pen
And, it has a green bark a pen
Quite soft to touch my only pen
It’s a sharpen, my little pen
An iroko wood made my pen
A yellow part covered a pen
It’s a red, strike on my pen
With a black, strike my pen
Its look like a bow my pen
To write a bit with my pen
Supple to draw on, my pen
Can be use as dotting pen
Enclosed no ink in my pen
A bit looks like my little pen
To write, like my little pen
To sketch well, like my pen
To beautify, like a baby pen
Not like my handsome pen
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 5:23 PM UTC
Forgetting about that uptight blight.
Emanate apathy
Unapologetically.
Cheers to you Baby Jesus,
I'm all jacked up on pink Moscato; by noon.
Without a clue of what to do
Retreat to a beach
For a gala beset by an erubescent sunset.
What marry monarchs,
All clinquant, in gold light
All turn to heathens, in the night.
Perpetually transfixed
By a curious mix of
Rhythmic eruptions & fevered delight
Like fairies & nymphs
Amidst the moon of misbehaving.
Wondering eyes are tantalized
You are luxurious, feral, **** boy personified.
I was mystified by the wild & eroticized by the style.
A Huckleberry Finn identical twin, ohhh but of course
— You had a Porsche.
But we were far from bonafide.
All is well,
Who really gives a **** about a relationship cuff…
I was inherently drawn to the effervescence, of your soul.
Together in disconnected bubbles
Like a glass of champagne,
Sparkling to the surface effortlessly.
Daytime friends and nighttime lovers;
Nympholepts in retrospect,
Carefully tip-toeing around
Blossoming curiously & compromising cantor.
Over winsome side-long looks
The burgundy hardtop drops down
Into my body & out of my mind
Tipsy daze were just foreplay
For the passionate midnight sexcapades.
A midsummer’s night moonlit dream
Manifested midst the trysts of Spring.
Every Sunday
Drinking champagne,
Not practicing self-restraint
Sneaking into private estates
Dive into the grotto pool.
Worshiping the Sun, not the saint.
My late night lover show me your wicked pagan birthright.
Two lonely hearts bonded over confessions in the dark.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 10:11 PM UTC
I love your appearance
and I'll never change that stance
seeing your smile makes me want to get up and dance
And I can't even tell you how your laugh makes me feel
You have the personality and looks too good to be real
like you have the best deal
but you're not cheap
and your frown would make me want to weep
or jump off a cliff that's steep
onto concrete
because no one else's smile can compete
and your hair makes me keenly aware
of how it's unfair to anyone else to compare
You win, since there is no comparison
like just breathing the same airs a sin
It'll make my day just to see your grin
(I have to mention you're not too fat or too thin)
Every feature looks great down to the shin
Take pride
and let me confide
that you're bonafide gorgeous
And I wasn't prepared for this.
But I'll let it happen
and study this picture like a map then
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 4:20 AM UTC
Dear, Pa –
it’s your once-son
Danny – or better known
as Sandy, or Annie or;
Ann-Marie and to some
folks on 19th Street,
I’m known as a sinner, a ******
My life is a movie, like
a catwalk model; and
I play a very special person, who’s got
no-one to lean on, no mommy to hold, and;
Wait, I know her. She’s familiar to me like,
I’ve known her since the beginning of time, but
right now, in physical form, she stands
in front of me in the;
mirror, Pa. Yes, I am her reflection, no
I mean she’s my reflection and I realize
that; all along, this whole time, I told myself
a big-fat lie; as a child, hatred and anger
were the tears I cried. So –
this one’s for you, my king,
my liege; this one’s the promise
that we’ll keep; this one’s the bond
between our sheets; but this one’s the
one that’ll point at you; before I lift
the middle one, to say, ***** You!”
But hey, Pa – here I am. A
woman, not a man. A bonafide,
sophisticated lady in minx
with, real diamond earrings and
fierce wings; those nails, my nose
and my lips – make me feel like I’ve
power at my fingertips.
Tonight is my show – it’s my time
to shine. And I’m going to **** it
like I know I can – so thank you Pa,
and thank you, ma’am. For giving
me the strength to be who I am.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 7:13 PM UTC
.
On the wings of adventure
and channel planned visions
In bonafide pockets
with envelopes streaming
When sidewalk dividers,
the colors of sunset
bring peace to the valley,
now penned in a post card
“…wish you were here”
And bricks line the mansion
with cats in the garden,
alongside the seashells
and beaches we’ll wander
I look to the sunshine
to see its reflection
upon your sweet features,
your beauty it holds me
“Vacation photographs cannot do justice”
In rhythmed oasis
of sweet waters churning
and moments we’re seeking
in all we are wanting
With shadows behind us
as we go out walking
to love every minute
adventures are flying
“We find that our dreams lead us on our journey”
I follow the smiles,
that don’t belong to me
of hot seasoned concrete
and t-shirts emblazoned
With images captured,
yet still fashioned frowning,
until you arrive
and my heart swims the shoreline
“My vacation destination is your heart”
Feathered dunes outline
finding the side streets amazing,
hibiscus and bougainvillea
and fragrances swaying
When every sunrise
does find you here with me,
of bright painted post cards
and moments eternal
“We shall forever live in love…”
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
I’m not afraid to admit
very few things
she thinks,
head nestling on the window,
over the sleeping Atlantic, eyes,
like drowsy oceans, swelling
over combers of clouds:
she watches herself
drift away
*do I arrive
or depart
(a return or restart)
to the city of light
that has warmed,
since girl dreams were born,
the tomorrows
of my lamp lit heart?*
yet what could I do,
but dawdle and pine,
write this and offer art:
and hope it speaks mine,
am I not a wonder?
keen, sonorous in stride,
industrious, strength,
brimming with pride; bonafide,
–zut alors
you and me,
divided. I abhor
the wind that blew (your delicate cloud)
from my Rhine.
is your love sewn in guilt,
cold repentance and blame,
is your sweet foolish heart,
here chained to mistakes?
what if you are a photograph,
captured among many,
held by each but for one fleeting frame,
(will you forget my antiquated name?)
which of your colours:
Manet unsentimental,
or Impressions in variation,
french vanilla in tumble,
or, contours, postcards, and maps,
shall fleshen our past–
these stilted
and dwindled days.
I think, for me,
forever in evening,
in fear of
the fast falling night,
or moving slow, pale
window glow,
afternoons, sunlit
in the space,
between grace, clocks,
and tunes: I fumble like a stone
to breathe l’espirit of you.
I know and you know. I suppose,
unfurl in a brave new start,
above bonds of looming crows,
blankets of Western valley snows,
the beating red of my radio spire;
think of a lingering dusk,
when you see that Eiffel tower
on the lush fields of March,
but imagine us as that point,
over fresh Champs du March,
a glimmer at the peak,
on the flat earth,
apart.
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 5:08 PM UTC
Love Overcomes
Love Becomes
Hate Never Prevails
Hate Always Fails
Upmost Sincere
Bonafide My Dear
Always Faithful
Simply Truthful
Stay Positive
Refuse Negative
Beauty Fades Away
Inner Beauty Pays The Way
Nobody Is Perfect
I Completely Understand
My Hearts In Abyss
Journeyed In A Twist
Clenching My Teeth
Trapped Beneathe
Ground Level By The Devil
A Rebel Fighting Off These Demons
Surviving Every Season
The Climate Is The Reason
Stipulating Treason
My Love Still Lives On
After Whats Said & Done
I'm Staying The Same
No Fun & Games
My Hearts Wide Open
Truth I Have Spoken
I Went & Came Back
Lost From The Tracks
A Blurry Vision
A Bias Collision
Nevertheless I'm In It For The Best
As You Rest On My Chest
You Whispered I'm The Best
Be Aware I'm Always There
Ready To Catch You
As You Fall I'm Right Beside You
My Words Are True
Smile When You Feeling Blue
Keep In Mind Someone Cares
When Your Alone & No Ones There
I Love You With Words & Actions
I Love You With Heart & Soul
I Love You With Mind & Body
One Of A Kind Like Nobody...
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
Oh fickle foes
or maybe friends?
once a beginning
but now an end
Once loyal
yes, by my side
the night now is
a groom-less bride
the sun is dark
or maybe clear
the brave with swords
now draped in fear
but all the ocean's
deep and wide
that gave me truth
don't ring bonafide
the slender fellow
so debonair
but now my eyes
won't look,
won't dare
oh fickle stars
or are they lights?
the open arms
now give me frights
oh what is up
now is down
what she had worn;
a pastel sheer gown
now is dark with coal
torn i say torn!
oh fickle hearts
that beat like drums
now only make me fear
of some..
days ahead
or maybe past?
what once came first
now comes last
of fickle days
or maybe years?
no longer bring joy
but only fears
oh fickle souls
that once were kind
now are dim,
they once did shine
the lake is hard
white with ice
i then cared not
but now it's thrice
oh fickle thoughts
between my ears
i say, changed to worries
and changed to fears
dark and heavy
like a rock
once a metronome
now a ticking clock
in my palm
the world ahead
but all is left is
dead dead dead
once a caress
now a slash
what once was real
falls as ash
and once it goes
to the floor
what once was real
is no more
oh fickle foes
or maybe friends
it then was given
but now i send
the fallen trees
that touched the grass
they are not there now
for me to pass
the books on shelves
that i once read
now lie burning
dead dead dead
the footsteps left
in the rain
once made me laugh
but now, what pain!
the moon that hung
above my head
has turned to sun
dead dead dead
Oh fickle ways
the earth reminds
It once was lost,
but near i find
Oh fickle hands
that I use
what once was truth,
I dare say, a ruse
The poem written
by my pen
now are chores
Again Again
The sun rises
but then it sets
the stars come out
and this i let
for what the day will
come to bring
i cannot call
i cannot sing
oh fickle strings
that pull the earth
will give thou death
but also birth.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
on the outside, nobody'd ever known he was unhappy.
he had his mother's eyes, soft and blue,
reminded me of babies for some reason.
he used to pop in every now and then to give me the news,
gossip he'd heard at school that day,
the what-not.
i was real sick at the time, mama had to keep me hidden away sometimes,
ya know, i think she was a little ashamed seeing how it was a little her fault.
i didn't blame her for nothin' though.
anyways, he came and went as he pleased, nice boy he was.
used to wrap me up in a blanket and wheel me onto the porch so we could watch
the cars and the rich folk with dogs jog right on by, like they ain't never seen a girl with no hair
and a boy as handsome as he was.
we was a regular spectacle, a bonafide freak show,
and them people they always gonna talk, but he told me that the only people that listen are
the ones doin' the talkin', and that ain't us, so we ain't listenin'.
i didn't find out about his daddy until about a month after it happened,
for some reason people have a hard time telling someone who's dying that somebody died,
can you believe that?
he stopped comin' around so much after that, figured it was 'cause a his mama (with the eyes)
needin' extra help round the house.
weeks, maybe even a month went by 'fore i saw him again,
but he wasn't the same boy, and i sure as hell wasn't the same girl.
he looked at me, with them eyes, as if he'd just lost the lottery.
ya know, he sat me down and told me that he couldn't be around me no more,
seeing as how i was dyin' and all. ( i thought that was pretty dumb, i may be dyin' but i ain't dead yet)
he held my hand in his, his was a little clammy, i think 'cause he was so sad and all.
we sat there for a few minutes, hand in hand, thinkin' bout life and death, and the johnny carson show.
now, he never said nothin', but i think he loved me. i never got to find out the truth though.
he disappeared after that day, nobody heard from him, his mama was all outta sorts.
i think he left town, couldn't stand seein' people lookin' at him and me all the time,
the bonafide freakshow,
couldn't stand bein' round his broken mama.
doesn't really matter where he went off to, he was gone just the same.
some days, when im sittin' on the porch, wrapped up in a blanket, waiting to die,
i feel his clammy hand holdin' mine.
you see, when you don't have much left to live for,
it's people like him that save you.
Dec 19, 2011
Dec 19, 2011 at 1:58 AM UTC
cushions make a queer backstop
after five long years of stone
friends and family fray the nerves
after five long years alone
a backyard barbecue a battle
when the fight is finally won
still he fights to find the joy
in the laughter of his son
a bonafide war hero
not as brave as he might seem
when he can’t escape the feeling
that coming home was just a dream
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC
Never ending golden thoughts
Our mind travels with it
Strange but bonafide truth
Time withal can nix erase
And create a new one
Like those precious moments
Giving our soul an inspiration
Impact of memorable moments
Accredited to move forward
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 4:19 AM UTC
Star and fashion designer Melissa McCarthy shares her guide for feeling fabulous and the emotional inspiration behind her new clothing line. Subscribe now for instant access to this PEOPLE exclusive!
Melissa McCarthy‘s foray into the fashion world with Melissa McCarthy’s Seven7 is already a bonafide success — but that doesn’t mean her daughterswill start looking to mom for fashion advice.
“My daughters have their own sense of style, which is a thousand times better than having mine,” McCarthy tells PEOPLE in this week’s cover story.
Georgette, 5½, and Vivian, 8, McCarthy’s daughters with husband Ben Falcone, are already setting their own trends.
“Georgie is very specific in what she wears,” McCarthy, 45, says. “Vivie can be more flexible, but she’s said to me on several occasions, ‘That’s my style, Mama.’ And I can tell when she wears something and feels good in it.”
The actress says she only intervenes in the girls’ attire when safety is involved.
“For me it’s like: As long as you’re not going to the park in a long skirt that you’re going to trip and fall on, you go for it,” she says. “If there’s no danger issue, wear whatever you want. I can tell you like it, I can tell you feel good about yourself in it, so knock yourself out.”
McCarthy tells PEOPLE she’d support her daughters even if they wanted to wear a shirt “wrapped like a turban” around their heads.
“I just think you’re going to have so many people saying, ‘You shouldn’t, you can’t, that’s not okay,’ that there’s no way I’m going to be one of those people. I’m gonna help fight that as much as I can. So turbans for everyone,” she jokes.
Vivian is so fashion-forward that one of her designs is even featured on a t-shirt in McCarthy’s range.
“My daughter Vivie drew that cat last year saying ‘Le Meow.’ Because, she explained, ‘everyone should have a fancy cat,'” McCarthy explains. “I can’t even think of what I’ll do when I see someone on the street wearing it. And when Vivie sees it? I’d better be standing next to her to watch her little heart fill up.”
read more:www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses
www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
#Feast your eyes upon all the
mangled
twitching
bodies
trapped in the grills of fat and
brown
package
trucks
so far away from the idyllic blades of
green
and
sun
crossing pot-hole asphalted rivers where
alligators
speed
amuck
We all get hurt crossing seemingly
empty
perilous
streets
and end up in some wolf-dressed-as-sheep
machine's
sharp
teeth
are we different from the insects
roaming
on
instinct?
If only you could wiggle your body more to the side
but the alligator never slows and the wind is a bonafide
bully.
At least I can see whats ahead, might as well enjoy the ride.#
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 1:56 PM UTC
My skin dreads your fingertips ghosting over it
Whispering lullabies from the distant shore
My lips dread your pair that trail butterfly kisses to the juncture of my jaw
My ears dread the dulcet tunes murmured from your pillow lips
That caresses the inner workings of my heart with bonafide admiration
My heart—the one you have—is the only one that adores every little gesture you make
Every slight remark
Every subtle action
But the rest of me does not want you
Because as much as I adore you
I cannot picture us together
Without the image shattering again.
Jul 7, 2018
Jul 7, 2018 at 8:24 AM UTC
There was a boy
Who had a girl
And in the grapevine,
Hanging by a pearl
There laid a boy
Stripped free and mild
Four laces entwined
And eyes beguiled
He bicycled
Down from the hill
Grasping a gun
And a feathered quill
He spoke in books
And ailing shouts
‘Neath the moon, he shook
And began to sprout
He said, “Hush you want me badly, I know
But my lone beliefs are bonafide
You found a love a long time ago”
As he turned, the lover cried,
“I dreamt your call
Dressed in a shawl
I’d lie on your head
In a deathly bed
From dust to rust,
I want the boy
In this I trust,
I’ll love the boy”
He struck a pose
Fits in a frame
He ate a rose
Five hearts he maimed
They pranced around
Their stolen tags
And gave their pounds
For fiery drags
On squandered soil
They lift their roots
Their hands unspoiled
And aim acute
“I want you so
You know me well
But love is sold
'Neath hollow bells”
He said “Hush, you want me badly, I know
But why can’t I call you by your name?”
“This is nothing if you only show
Your incumbent shame”
"I want your call
I’ll wear your shawl
I’ll kiss your head
And lull you to bed”
“From dust to rust
I want the boy
In this I trust
I’ll love the boy”
He said, “Hush, you knew me when? I think not”
As he tended to his burning leaf
“Life is sweet, but it too will rot
I won’t be deceived”
“I want the boy
Give me the boy
Don’t be so coy
I want you, boy
I’ll love the boy
I want the boy
There was a boy
Who gave me joy”
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
8 years old
We're told "you're too young to unlearn how to smile and hate the world"
8 years from now on
You'll forget the art of care freeness
and little girls
So 6 young hearts
Kick start
And venture into
A labyrinth
Of question marks
Mischievous
Wide-eyed
We had nothing to hide
Our smiles were bonafide...
We dreamed of superpowers
Meteor showers
Climbing towers
Magic, meremaids
Flying ships
And finding home
In our unlock golden coffer
All we had was love to offer
A currency that once was just enough....
Guess we grew up
Theses days
We've ceased
To give
A frail and feeble ****
We've got new better plans
Crystal clear
Each year
Since June of 2010
We've grown cavalier
And bland
We used to dance in rainstorms
Fight our battles, win the whole world
We spoke in flames
And held hands while we burn
Now all we ever do is *****
Apathy, we mop it
With apologises
I'm sorry's
I worry..... I worry,
We grew up
Things have changed
And minds have aged
We're so far in this infeasible maze
When did black and white decide
To propagate
Cause everything now seems so.... Gray
We've forgotten the beats of our own drums
We've lost touch in tunes we used to hum
We smell of sin
And no longer bubblegum
Our season is yet to come
We're houses with water stained walls
We're standing
But no longer tall
When did we stop having a ball, I don't recall
I don't re-call
Here... We are
So far
We've walked a lonely road
We're like nomads finding home
But some-where far inside
The 8 year old resides
Whispering "you'll be alright"
So let us live
Let live
Forgive and hope we don't
Fail the souls we used to know
Let's walk each other home
Little souls please don't let go
The unknown is ours to roam
Our little souls will walks us
Home
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
i made with you / gumby graphics
gifts of kiss
parameters of malleable minutia in misfit music
meanderings of our midnight sting
our bodies in bonafide brevity, singing
seeking seiks' mischievous apathies
on the fringes
IMAX movie-like scenes without acting out / words
tongues
the levity or suspenseful sanctions / unhinged
members and mouths mapping galactic absurdities
Mars and mercurial in star-crossed appetites
burning as suns should; meteorites / streaking sky;
in wonderful dining and gustful bites - eyes
full of asteroid-desires coalescing
masculinity in every copious opus / in rites
of unforgiving depths / in blinding supernova nights,
forever ever / in a name of fantastics and amoebas
these boys worshipping planets x, y, z / emotions coax & ***** elastic
strength of steeds, drinking the implacid body's
mead / wrestling without a fight's reprieve
fires, our mouths, / incite body-art / completely received
intrigued with warm inner spaces
paint brush of hours in museums of sweat / engraved,
encased / ******** sunburst theories on theories of tastes
and comets stroked / our body-art in hues
which love forever ever levitates . . . in spacial haste
wormholes and Thanatos amused.
Beautiful Eros rain : Bodies paint.
(nebulae & you.)
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC
If there's doubt it's probably wrong
If it burns it's because it's hot
If it breaks it was never strong
If it's real it can't be bought
If it rains it's bound to pour
If it makes you crazy you should run
If it truly sees you it won't ignore
If it's intended there's probably a pun
If it's perfect it's definitely flawed
If there's no proof then it's not legit
If it perpetrates it's a bonafide fraud
If it's not the right size it's not a good fit
If it meets you halfway that's not enough
If it hurts it can't possibly be true love
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
Young and free
You used to be
Wild as a foal
Now, as you get old
The road home gets longer
And the hold of death gets stronger
And its avenger gets closer
A storm is brewing
Ancient and true
Rain drops fall
Thunder calls
The Son home
Shalom is coming again
He shall come to regain His throne
Upon which the Son of God will make Earth a death free zone
And souls will be tried
And bonafide
True or a lie
And will accordingly be sent
To Heaven or Hell
All will be well once again
When He comes again.
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
The fake said to the phony,
"I'm hip to your jive and the smell of bologna,"
Meanwhile, homegirl still pronounces the L in salmon.
Somedays are deep fried and pan seared to perfection.
This is not one of them.
The bonafide bonerless guy cried aloud that he wished he would die,
so we took him out for ice cream.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 5:20 AM UTC
You are my centripetal. You are my catharsis. You are bonafide. You beckon me.
How shall I eulogize my Yahweh that he forged a human like you. He contrived you for me so that I must caress you with the profound love.
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
An ode to my mother, mom you are my strength
For you, my God, I would go to any length
A gorgeous day not a single cloud of angst
As you rest peaceful in Heaven's outer banks
As high as a kite on selfless joy and pride
The sun grew jealous of light you held inside
You came home for Christmas gung ** bonafide
The world kept turning you were ready to ride
You could inhale hope smile and exhale faith
No marathons instead you won every race
Told to rest, but NO! You were God's special case
Wide eyes would float you to any destined place
Last Summer Point Pleasant you rode on the swings
Got off, and yelled, please don't let me do these things
You flew that day and today you've earned your wings
Angel for a mom makes me the king of kings
Could hardly walk and worse you could barely breathe
But you walked on out to meet the ocean breeze
The beach was all yours the perfect day was seized
Summer with Autumn was no longer make believe
You hit Atlantic City you doubled down
Toured the hotels and had fun you love that town
We had wonderful laughs there I love the sound
You chased happiness you didn't **** around
The woman who fought a most perilous strife
Never knew sympathy, although it enticed
Less than incredible simply never sufficed
Stronger than Superman you saved your own life
A hero disquised, stood only 5 foot 3
Ravaged skyscrapers desperate to revive me
Choked out fear, annihalated anxiety
You wove my path to enlightenment finally
Ask the doctors they call you miracle girl
Guided me close while my vision was blurred
Showed me light when darkness developed a hold
You opened my eyes to a spiritual world
A moment to thank you for eternal love
Kind symbolized by a quiet morning's dove
Perfect well yes I surely fell quite short of
And more and more love you were deserving of
But mom know as you fought your nemesis time
And never surrendered it helped me define
Suffering as being divine by design
Your life was so beautiful rescued was mine
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
MajorityOne like many other instances of power known solely from other literary passages as both the Oblivious King and the High of Confusion (and a little about the seminar of truth here and there) … …However what makes this particular instance of power very intriguing is that it means a solitary sign of “respect”. Meaning it’s a one of a kind. And even better whilst being on a universal platform…so to speak! First and foremost, like all the other “instances of power” of its kind. Just as the Oblivious King means your already a bonafide king, but is completely oblivious to its whereabouts upon it’s secrets. (And the identity of that very secret in repeated questioning.) Or the High of Confusion which surrounds you both inside and outside yourself entirely with a confusion that goes beyond normal realized confusion altogether. (However, the seminar of truth is something to do with your very inputs that have a very serious seminar about discussions, and what to do about the “truth” in all it’s very facts. A VAST parliament of inputs exchanging many facts of truth whilst the seminar heavily ways over their very discussion!) The name for a sign of respect revolves HEAVILY around how of the entire majority, there’s ONLY ONE among who has dominion over ALL respect amongst its common majority. A specialty like the High of Confusion being not the normal realized confusion when going past someone’s first initial realized impression of it. A respect that goes beyond what the entire majority can EVER handle. That’s why it’s called the MajorityOne. Showing that there’s only ONE who could be of the total respect amongst the entire majority. But who could take up this very title, I increasingly wonder…? Well since it’s an instance of power… It’s also an impressionable mini avatar for the universes both properties and meanings. Showing time and time again that it’s different in its own way. Vastly hinting at it having its very own sentience of sorts. A sentience motioning a by-play in its own regards for bypassing the entire majority that has respect over itself entirely. Surpassing the entire common majority with it’s very own! A respect that’s now (forevermore) part of the universal spectrum platform!
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 5:08 PM UTC