I'm leaving Carly's place after an all day ****** that had me convinced that paradise lay in the legs of Nate's sister wearing a unicorn onesie, and as they put on Sgt. Peppers and lay there the ****** freudian passion play overcame my capacity for archetype observation and I proceeded to walk around the room thanking everybody in that space and time for the gift of starting the **** with Nate's sister, the beat changed and they turned on me and said I needed to give her space, they all became timeless aliens traveling through time to **** and I was one of them coming online in a loop, and as long as I stayed awake I would remember and not be *****. I sat cross legged holding my friend sams hands, looking into his eyes, saying aloud we're creating the universe constructing all as the three smartest people of all time, forever throughout we died but never died, as long as we could stay awake, they all wore red and I couldn't trust any of them, I fired off mad questions and demanded to know the secrets of the universe and why woman wasn't the answer, I called up to nate to bring her down to me, and generally became a raving lunatic
      after some time of sam being soulmate and accepting him forever as my lover self same image, and also calling him ugly as im ugly, then channeling Brittany through him and countless other regressive exercises, we started inhaling nitrous gas, and the world became one stretched out moment
       and I kept calling out before, all the way up, as it were the secret spell with a handshake to fool the devil
         I thought Nate a mad spirit habituating this plane as a long gone failed hero plagued by the madness of wanting to **** his sister and forced to watch all his friends be aware of their own lust, so that pushed him into clowning, which he is an expert, that primal lust took me up and id taken a holy mandate to **** this beautiful creature and ascend to paradise,
when they slipped her upstairs they left her rainbow onesie, i felt heaven become another step remote and my faith tested, I resolved to be the last awake and never die, I walked up to the attic, and saw the light beaming from the window


            Sam dropped me off at the press grill so I could eat some grub,
then I met up with Tyler for a drink somewhere while he told me his story of meeting a guy in a skyline chilis bathroom drunk at 3 am, he said the guy was standing at the ****** but wasn't *******. Ty asked him if he was done and the guy put Ty in a chokehold with his pants down, according to Ty the cops came in and he was putting clean shots into the guys mug, he is contemplating leaving town before they can indict him for felonious assault, I told him Canadas nice but Venezuela doesn't have an extradition treaty, come to think of it neither does Cuba, but Ty is too proud for that probably
   anyways we meet Carly being a dancing beauty in a high falootin joint with string lights called Julep, the only reason to mention it is because as we were leaving a guy was bent over the rail vomiting and looking wretched he noticed us watching him as we smoked our cigarettes off to the side and immediately decided that he wasn't some kind of side show freak to be gawked at, he became threatening in the most base and pathetic way a human can, and his bride came to tell us to ******* with her father, father of the bride shaking my hand, we eventually left that scene and walked to Oddfellows where I saw Sam Cohan and he bought me a beer, good chap, we talked until I stepped toward Carly, Tyler and a fine looking strange *****
I touched Carly and received an awkward unmemorable introduction to the strange *****. She walked away but lurked and locked eyes with me as the evening rolled on
later Carly told me that the girl demanded to meet the guy who looks like Heath Ledger, a sure fire ****, so Carly is grinding on my **** and my backs to the bar and Tyler already got me a beer, and there I was, a pirate king
I took Carly out after the lights came on, and was going to give Tyler the run of my place, he disappeared into the night and I showed Carly my favorite smelling tree, a pink mimosa still in bloom late July, we almost ****** on my car, until I went back to her place and we ****** until $430, rising at noon, I left telling her we had an hour to get ready to journey to Findlay for Jim's wedding
I showered and brushed my teeth and collected my suit and put it on without a tie
I picked up Carly and set out upon the road, but made a quick stop for a bite
two deaf guys ordered in front of me and the kid working the register said my glasses were cool, along the way I was telling Carly the story of how I wore make up for the first time to a middle school dance, and she said she had to *****, I didn't believe her at first until she tried to stick her head out the window half way rolled down, I managed to get it down all the way and wet streaks of human gut waste caught the wind and splattered my window
we pulled over and I went to get her some napkins to clean herself off as I squeeged the car, she tried to wipe the window with the napkins, sweet girl. The wedding started at 3:30 and we didn't have more than five minutes to spare, she found her vape pen 20 minute out as Heather started to send me worried messages, as I was set to read a passage, little did I know that I was leading off the whole affair, I arrived and was quickly rushed to meet the mothers and have a boutonnière pinned to my lapel , the women all looked stunning and I congratulated each in turn as they shoved a program in my hand, Tiffany took me through the drill, we walked up to the stage and took our places on the bench, looking out at the beautiful shining faces,


I was the only one not wearing a tie, but thats not important, I saw Jim and embraced him with all the love I could muster, he looked at me and said that he knew I would make it, that he knew that he just had to trust the flow, and I would appear in the nick of time, the pastor threw his hands in the air and welcomed the families, the mothers lit candles, and then Tiffany looked at me and said that it was my turn, I stepped up to the Beema and gazed out over the crowd, trying to summon something clever, nothing good came to mind and so I opened my mouth and said, "a reading from Genesis" and then put every fiber of my being into reminding the room that it is Gods will that we be fruitful and multiply. I'm told I slammed my hands down for emphasis and let out a hearty amen, a man's man's amen, and turned and took one giant step off the podium with two baby stairs, I gracefully flowed into the bench having averted a complete embarrassment, and then tactfully left the stage with Tiffany after her read.   Jim looked at me after mine with a nod, and I said the word strong, that read cemented my status as a star of the party, and the mojo flowed, I was called the cash guy by the hotel, for checking in as Atlantis Grosshammer, $200 depost, we drank and danced and an old lady came to me to say that I have a beautiful soul
I thanked Jim's father for helping to create my friend, and danced around bottles
the cake was good
I told Carly I always catch the brides garter, at every wedding I've ever been. I saw Jim's men assemble for his toss, I let the men come and put myself in the mix, Jim turned his back and had a misfire,
the temptation to collect it passed all of us by thankfully, and he was set to fire again, it came to me and I snatched it out of the air, cold as ice I walked off the floor only with eyes for Carly not even saying a word to Jim, I put that thing on my head and went back to Jim threw him on my shoulders and swung him around like we were in a broadway musical
two kids playing in the street,
he said its the best moment, and so it goes

Photographers are up in arms this week over an online battle between a DJ and a wedding photographer. At the center of the controversy is the question of whether or not a DJ should be able to shoot and share wedding photos when the photographer has an exclusivity agreement with the bride and groom.

Photographer Carly Fuller and DJ Ken Rochon of Absolute Entertainment were both hired to offer their services at a wedding this past weekend. Fuller says that it was during the pre-ceremony that she noticed Rochon holding professional camera equipment.


“I love cross promotion but unfortunately no other professional company may take photographs during the event,” she tells PetaPixel. She says she offered to send her photos to Rochon after the wedding, but the DJ replied that he was taking his own photos for marketing and social media purposes.

Fuller says she was surprised at 9am the next morning to see Rochon’s photos posted in a Facebook album on the page for Rochon’s other business, The Umbrella Syndicate. The photographer then contacted the DJ to ask him to take the gallery down, since she was hired to be the sole professional photographer at the wedding.

Here’s the exclusivity clause that was in the contract signed by the bride and groom.

This agreement contains the entire understanding between Carly Fuller Photography and the CLIENT. It supersedes all prior and simultaneous agreements between the parties. It is understood Carly Fuller Photography is the exclusive official photographer retained to perform the photographic services requested on this Contract.

Rochon says he was indeed photographing at the wedding, but believes that this whole thing was a “huge misunderstanding.”

“Either the bride and groom didn’t know of the clause, or they knew and didn’t tell me,” he tells PetaPixel. “The client was the bride and groom, and the bride and groom never told me I couldn’t bring a camera. The photographer wasn’t my client, and I didn’t have a contract with the photographer. I do have the right to take pictures.”

“When she delivers the photos she shot, she’s still delivering what she was hired to deliver,” he adds.

Rochon says he shared 232 photos he captured from his DJ station as a gift to the bride and broom with the couple’s full knowledge.

After word of this dispute got out into photography circles, photographers began to come to Fuller’s defense, leaving angry comments on Rochon’s album and Facebook page.

As this controversy grew over social media, Fuller named it #weddingphotogate. Rochon launched his own campaign called “Freedom to Capture Love.” Here’s an open letter he published to Facebook yesterday:

Fuller denies that she has levied fines against the bride and groom, who are currently on their honeymoon, and accuses Rochon of slandering her company and business practices.

Fuller accuses Rochon of interfering with the “organic experience” of the couple’s day and confusing guests about who the photographer was by posing people and taking detail photos during the wedding (Rochon says he was almost always shooting from his position at his DJ booth).

“I have images of them holding the camera and photobombing my ceremony photos,” Fuller says, “minutes after I had asked them to put their camera away and I would send them images.”

“Wedding vendors are hired because of their experience, talent, and vision,” Fuller tells PetaPixel. “Each of us has a right to do our job and deliver the quality our clients expect. We have a right to be able to perform our duties without another professional interfering with the process. Another vendor’s marketing needs do not supersede those rights.”

Rochon argues that he has the right to shoot photos during weddings as well.

“Why is it only the photographer that can market the event? Pretty much the only way you can market on social media these days is photography,” he tells PetaPixel “Everyone has cameras at events these days. I have every right to capture that love.”

Fuller’s position is that other professional wedding vendors should respect the wedding photographer’s exclusivity agreement and stay away from shooting and sharing photos themselves. Rochon, on the other hand, believes that photography is a basic right that even other vendors should be able to use to serve clients and market services.

“I wasn’t trying to give photos to discount the work of the photographer. I was simply marketing my company and giving my vantage point as a gift to the couple,” Rochon says.

Fuller responds: “Going forward, I hope all vendors can embrace the idea that we all should just do what we were hired to do, and BRING IT! But only bring what makes our own profession rock, and what makes our service and product the best they can be. Let’s agree to stay out of each other’s jobs – we each were hired for a reason. Let each other shine.”

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/backless-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses

I've thought of you
In many ways;
Many complexities
On many days.

I've contemplated your meaning
To my life and the world.
To the universe and beyond,
Through flatiron and curls.

Through tumbling and leaping
Through broken leg and pain.
Through cold winter months
Through sunshine with rain,

Where you opened my eyes
Like the first time you opened yours,
To see what's beyond
Rainbows and other worlds.

You made me cry when you entered THIS world
I've often had tears
Of pain for your suffering
And your glorious new peers.

I think of you often
Over all these tough days
Of life on the planet
Where most is in haze.

Where struggles bring us light
To see far beyond
The sensory input
Such meaningless glum.

You now are much grown
You've gain more than I.
You're far more than I dreamed;
I sit here with sigh

Of relief that you're here
That you've grown to this soul.
With comfort to see
You'll learn more than I'll ever know.

That you'll make your mark
Not judged my a man,
But by whom you are within,
Your soul, your biggest fan.

Stay true to that spirit
Connected to all
Know your worth,
Realize your call.

You've nothing to prove
You are whom you are
And in 1997,
Your mom and I literally made a new star.

You ARE our universe, Carly Grace Bowles.

Happy Birthday!  I so much love you.

Yes. I know I'm early. Lol

Muah!!!!

I see your rosy stained cheeks and think of how they would've coated my lips.
How I would've known the warmth of your hand like I know the beat of my heart.
Care giver promises while her tongue played black and white film into my ears,
And while it played she handed me pieces of glass that reflected dreams of darkness,
Like a dye for the heart it stained discarded shoes,
But that's not all because it left lilacs in place of what we lose,
That smell comforts me when my hands meet to be disappointed,
Because they know their lack of size can be filled by another,
Two thumbs connected like the print bonded a perfect match,
But the print dimmed so quickly my eyes are still trying to catch up,
It's only the lack of tingle that my skin once had in abundance that bother me,
It spots are gone but what should I expect.

I'm not sure I can take another heartbreak.
After the last one, I'm sure there's no such thing as a soul mate.
It's much like stepping in dog ****, this heartache:
Not what you were expecting and the stench is one that stays,
Though you stay up washing it in the night, quite late.
Yet love is a game that everyone plays.

But somehow, he is seeming quite attractive, maybe even my type,
That sweet chuckle, like light reflecting off a glass cup.
It's not so much that it fills the room, not that he's all the hype,
But it's the small reflection of a ray that shines just for me,
Like I'm the only one meant to see
Him laugh.

“This is crazy, but here's my number...” the radio sings out.
I wish I had Carly's courage, but all I can manage is doubt.
“Call me maybe...” she says with tact, while I just manage to hide my face.
What I know of love is loss that doesn't seem to erase.
And now, here, Carly tempts me to feel loss of what was never mine...

Then he crosses the line
In the carpet where I've been concealing eyes.
He shakes my hand and says something, might have been his name,
Oh I'd have listened if I'd been more wise.
But he's smiling again, and this time it is for me, it's mine to claim,
And so I introduce myself and take his hand,
This is adventure I never planned,
But oh, how sweet the light that shines from his eyes.

she's driving me crazy, this kid
doing things i never did
big blue eyes and messy curls
oh the joys of little girls
one minute she's the boss, so demanding
then she finds patience, soft and understanding
she sing songs to the birds
making up her own words
tea parties with mr. bear
sticking candy in dolls hair
bed time stories after glitter baths
but i melt every time she laughs
she holds my hand, doesn't want to let go
and tells me stories that have no end
tells me i'm her absolute best friend
there's so much i want her to know
that there's nothing that she can't do
i wish for all her dreams to come true
and i know i'd give her the world
this sweetness, this light, my little girl

honey dripping eyes
brown river water hair shoots
shining at each turn

smiles huge reveals
velvety pink apple cheeks
golden glowing teeth

painting and painting
flowers on her pale temples
shining through her skin

insatiable thirst
right down in her pretty throat
making its own voice

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/759808/nat-lipstadts-mood-swings/


'ᏰέƦẙḽԃṏሁ's the most "unappreciated" poet on this site.
Being "misunderstood" is what gets him into a fight.
Now that I'm retired and free,
He's the new "King" of HP ~
Now I hate that Jew because he's better and right.
All words in quotes are Nat's. His changes his opinion of me every second like the eyes on a Felix the Cat clock.
I love him but I've given up on him.

-------------------
Poor man he believes his own totally manufactured press. Oy!

Why does he obsess over me?
Ask him, not me...

Why does write me in pvt messages to tell me I am "delusional" and he is by page view,  the Emperor(!) of HP and that
"you've become an embittered man and can counted yourself among the cursed.
And if you've chosen not to read this, it's because your blinders are still on.I wish you well as a fellow Jew; as a poet I welcome you're  extinction for your inability to adapt."

Whoa! Is he worse than Ormond, who only wanted to "burn" us together!  Extinction now that is  a code word makes  every Jewish person's hair curly,

The humorous answer would have the
Lew I like laughingly say "***** envy!"

adapt to his standards, of ******* up and publishing outrageously bad poems sux times a day - no babe, those things are not standards


instead he is he is committing a error of sinat chinam, empty hatred...

"Sinat chinam means groundless hatred. (The verb soneh means to hate, as in the command lo tisnah at ahicha blevavecha, do not hate your brother in your heart, Leviticus19:17)

Chinam comes from chen, grace. Sinat chinam is therefore hatred that is gratis. It refers to the internecine strife which is unfortunately too common in Jewish communities, whether between Reform and Orthodox, Ashkenazim and Sephardim, the rabbi and the chazan, the president of the shul and the board.

You could charitably ascribe its existence to the high-stakes decisions that Jewish communities have had to make, or to a persecuted people internalising the hatred directed at them, and then projecting it against other groups of Jews. (emphasis mine).  Either way, there is clearly too much of it about.

The Talmud already knew of the phenomenon and its destructive effect on Jewish life. Yoma 9b records that the First Temple was burned down because of idol worship, ****** immorality and bloodshed. At the time of the Second Temples destruction, the Jews were, on the other hand, pious but the Temple was lost because sinat chinam, groundless hatred, was endemic to Jewish national life."

But since he is self acclaimed Shakespeare expert,
I'm sure  he is familiar with this riposte:

The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
‘T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthronèd in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must needs give sentence ‘gainst the merchant there.

Merchant of Venice

More would be superfluous...sure glad he loves me, imagine if he didn't!

what waste of a good poetry skills... this is getting snoring,
boring... So let's bring some appropriate lyrics with which to conclude:

"You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you
You're so vain, I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? don't you?"

Carly Simon - You're So Vain Lyrics

Fitz
Fritz
Fido
Sandy
Spencer
Chaplain
Bernard
Jesse
Snoopy
Charlie
Charles
Fred
Freddy
Bones
Remmy
Ren­a
Reno
Tony
Julian
Julie
Frisco
Meghan
Addison
Robby
Buddy
Rudy
F­riedrich
Fredrick
Bernie
Rudolph
Adolf
Ferdinand
Rose
Cassie
Cassidy
Lee
Balto
Little *****
Allen
Alvin
Jake
Demi
Randy
Alex
Richard
Alexis
Kenneth
Ken­ny
Chris
Jose
Josey
Rodger
Moe
Joe
Emilio
Walt
Emily
Emma
Maddie
­Anna
Jafar
Aladin
Jasmine
Genie
******
Amber
Gracie
Ramen
Gordy
G­ordon
Jordie
James
Bucky
Huff
Manny
Sam
Samantha
Mary
Marie
Tila
­Rita
Cathy
Tammy
Mickey
Cam
Amelia
Rene
Jeb
Dan
Bagel
Tommy
Donut­
Bubbles
Blossom
Buttercup
Mark
Cody
Andy
Cristo
Andrea
Whiskers
­Mike
Bill
Billy
George
Geo
Joy
Mitch
Trigger
Tigger
Stephen
Archi­medes
Anya
Duncan
Nitro
Crash
Bub
Crystal
Egor
Bernadette
Cammy
T­immy
Antonio
Natasha
Natalia
Ivan
Abbey
Abdul
Carly
Aaron
Omega
F­inn
Nina
Debby
Tomato
Tabby
Artie
Archie
Noah
Kyle
Alfie
Alfred
Conrad
Conner
******
G­unner
Fry
Fries
*******
Constance
Connie
Frank
Fran
Candice
D­andy
Lucy
Lou
Louis
Quincy
Doogle
Dubie
Dakota
Ace
Casey
Barry
Te­rry
Trenton
Gabe
Laurie
Cornelius
Kabob
Sky
Skylar
Rufus
Louie
Ba­rton
Kimmy
Angel
Capri
Basil
Cy
Ruby
Emerald
Eleanea
Elenor
Barth­olomew
Jazz
Dreamer
Thunder
Topaz
Amethyst
Salsa
Meril
Dodo
Toto
­Eric
Barbera
Hannah
Katie
Zoey
Ben
Pinto
Squanto
Columbus
Columbo
Porgy
Bess
Clark
Savannah
Ken­dra
Marco
Leise
Toby
Trevor
Tresten
Treven
Adrienne
Caleb
Carlyn
­Ricky
Gibby
Donny
Han
Solo
Hans
Gabby
Dirk
Spot
Sebastian
Dee
Sco­oby Doo
Shaggy
Polly
Reginald
Burger
Steak Sauce
Ethan
Bradberry
Lucky
Fergie
Cheese
Boxer
Napoleon
Snowball­
Gerald
Jeremy
Benji
Gemma
Pal
Mal
Preston
Jack
Jackson
Molly
Mac­kenzie
Alexie
Alicia
Dora
Olivia
Salvador
Beast
Beauty
Oliver
Dal­e
Rim
Marley
Diego
*****
Bobby
Ralston
Zeke
Rooney
Plato
Cole
Nep­tune
Sailor
Frida
Rico
Dali
Veronica
Victor
Copeland
Swift
Riley
­Tubs
Lassie
Yo-yo
Harvey
Lemonade
Coke
Pepsi
Tanya
Camille
Token
­Laser
Beam
Seamus
Dorthy
Ian
Moby

following on with my current obsession with my tomato growing experiment, ive decided to look at books, and films, and any other related tomato themes, as follows:

The Tomatoes Of Wrath-Steinbeck

A Midsummer Night's Tomato-Shakespeare

Tomato And Juliet-Ditto

Frankentomato-Shelley

Alice in Tomatoland-Carrol

Night Of The Living Tomato-zombie horror!

E.T.- Extra Tomato!

Tomatoes And Prejudice-Austen

I Heard It On The Tomato Vine-Marvin Gaye

You're So Vine- Carly Simon

Summertime (and the living is tomato)-Ella Fitzgerald

LGBT-LGB+Tomato

BY Jemia de Tomatoville 😏🍅🍅🍅🦋💕🙄

any other suggested ideas welcome, as i may bring out a book on the subject (but thankfully, probably won't!) and will, or not, call it Tomato Wrong!

Last night I dreamt I was in Carolina,
the trees all twisted to the coast.
The ocean sat steady and
the roads were never ending.
“I’m only back for six months,”
dream Carly said.
“No,”
an unmarked face and outstretched hand replied,
“you’re here to stay.”
With salt on my breath I tried to say it wasn’t so
but Fate just smiled and walked away.
Orange light broke through a canopy
as I desperately tried to follow,
but the shadow faded into
the steam of endless summer…  
I couldn’t understand why I was back.
Clarity blurred and the landscape was a hill, a tree, a flower, a beach.
A bridge into sand stretched ahead,
bricks to a river beside,
and columns upon columns
upon porches upon porches.
“I have to get back!”
dream Carly screams,
but Carolina just shrugged.

The man decked in blue
     sits quite content
          on a sofa
               and observes wealthy offspring

               waltz in flashing their brilliant teeth
          glossed with potent peppermint.
     These teens
don't know love,

lust is all it is.
     While the Jazz bops away,
          more whisky is poured
               and they zip out to get jammy.

               The man, mid-twenties,
          kind of blue, dapper apparel,
     has one on the rocks.
Sees them

walk in most evenings,
     cute blondes with flawless skin,
          guys in suits, bow ties, the works,
               gaze into each other's pupils.

               There are regulars,
          Robert, the chap from Yale,
     Quentin, sly guy at Harvard
and Carly, still at school the man believes,

who's coquettish, fresh,
     these two want to have her
          but she's astute,
               knows just what she wants.

               They're all after her in fact.
          Every male in the room
     turns their head,
can't blame them,

she's like Candyfloss,
     all the men want a taste
          but there's not enough for everyone
               and they don't look like the sharing kind.

               The man in blue
          just grins to himself
     thinking how grand it is
that he's single, sensible, secure.

I am scared!
Scared of this world

Robert Godwin Sr
Alyssa Elsman

How many more have to die?
By my kind,
By their kind,
Because they blame some other kind
What ever happened to just being
kind?

Daniel Parmertor, Russell King, Jr., Demetrius Hewlin

Where were you when the World Trade Center went down?
It’s something everyone alive then will always remember
Never Forget! was our brand motto for American Pride

Krystle Marie Campbell, Lü Lingzi, Martin William Richard, Sean A. Collier, Dennis Simmonds

And now, the death of another is so commonplace
That we forget what and where.
It’s no longer personal enough to register where in our lives that it struck us
Only note that another life has been struck down
Add another tally to the equation
And still it does not add up

Trayvon Martin
Tamir Rice
Samuel DuBose
Delrawn Small
Philando Castile
Terence Crutcher
Heather Heyer

We are completely desensitized
And decentralized
We keep ourselves disconnected
(because we just can’t absorb,
Take,
Process it all)
It’s not us
It’s not me
It’s somebody else
Somewhere else.
Until it is
Then we care
How much can we take, before we break

Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd, Susie Jackson, Ethel Lee Lance, Depayne Middleton Doctor, Clementa C. Pinckney, Tywanza Sanders, Daniel Simmons, Sharonda Coleman Singleton, Myra Thompson

The tragedy is the comedy
We laugh so we don’t cry
Sakia Gunn
Richie Phillips
Nireah Johnson, Brandie Coleman
Glenn Kopitske
Scotty Joe Weaver
Jason Gage
Michael Sandy
Sean William Kennedy
Duanna Johnson
Lawrence "Larry" King
Angie Zapata
Lateisha Green
****** August Provost, III
Mark Carson

I can’t say I’ve never thought of committing violence.
Hell, when my ex-wife cheated, it occurred to me
And I can’t say that I have never hit another
I’ve been a kid
My whole life is designed just to grow up
But, I’ve thought of killing myself far more often than the thought to harm anyone else have ever occurred to me
Because my problems are mine;
My fault,
And I am not seeking some scapegoat

Keenya Cook, Jerry Taylor, Million A. Woldemariam, Claudine Parker, Hong Im Ballenge, James Martin, James L. Buchanan, Premkumar Walekar, Sarah Ramos, Lori Ann Lewis-Rivera, Pascal Charlot, Dean Harold Meyers, Kenneth Bridges, Linda Franklin née Moore, Jeffrey Hopper, Conrad Johnson, 1 unnamed victim

I am not going to deny that being a white male hasn’t allowed me to sidestep a whole level of *******
One day, angry white males will be the minority
And we’ll have no one left to blame, but ourselves.
If we don’t **** everyone first
If we don’t **** ourselves first

Michael Arnold, Martin Bodrog, Arthur Daniels, Sylvia Frasier, Kathy Gaarde, John Roger Johnson, Mary Francis Knight, Frank Kohler, Vishnu Pandit, Kenneth Bernard Proctor, Gerald Read, Richard Michael Ridgell

Jonathan Blunk, Alexander J. Boik , Jesse Childress, Gordon Cowden,
Jessica Ghawi, John Larimer, Matt McQuinn, Micayla Medek, Veronica Moser Sullivan, Alex Sullivan, Alexander C. Teves, Rebecca Wingo

The earth has already decided that we are a plague upon it
Maybe climate change is the natural response to the abuse of our gifts

Nancy Lanza, Rachel D'Avino, Dawn Hochsprung, Anne Marie Murphy,
Lauren Rousseau, Mary Sherlach, Victoria Leigh Soto, Charlotte Bacon, Daniel Barden, Olivia Engel, Josephine Gay, Dylan Hockley, Madeleine Hsu, Catherine Hubbard, Chase Kowalski, Jesse Lewis, Ana Márquez Greene, James Mattioli, Grace McDonnell, Emilie Parker, Jack Pinto, Noah Pozner, Caroline Previdi, Jessica Rekos, Avielle Richman, Benjamin Wheeler, Allison Wyatt

What is this world going to teach my son?
That he’s better because of how he looks?
Or what I’ve taught him:
You make yourself better.

Jamie Bishop, Jocelyne Couture Nowak, Kevin Granata, Liviu Librescu,  P
G. V. Loganathan, Ross Alameddine, Brian Bluhm, Ryan Clark, Austin Cloyd, Daniel Perez Cueva, Matthew Gwaltney, Caitlin Hammaren, Jeremy Herbstritt, Rachael Hill, Emily Hilscher, Matthew La Porte, Jarrett Lane, Henry Lee, Partahi Lumbantoruan, Lauren McCain, Daniel O'Neil, Juan Ortiz, Minal Panchal, Erin Peterson, Michael Pohle Jr., Julia Pryde, Mary Karen Read, Reema Samaha, Waleed Shaalan, Leslie Sherman, Maxine Turner, Nicole White

I work as a data analyst
So, I ran the numbers
But, these are more than numbers
These are people: sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, friends, lovers.

Stanley Almodovar III, Amanda Alvear, Oscar A. Aracena Montero, Rodolfo Ayala Ayala, Alejandro Barrios Martinez, Martin Benitez Torres, Antonio D. Brown, Darryl R. Burt II, Jonathan A. Camuy Vega, Angel L. Candelario Padro, Simon A. Carrillo Fernandez, Juan Chevez Martinez, Luis D. Conde, Cory J. Connell, Tevin E. Crosby, Franky J. DeJesus Velazquez, Deonka D. Drayton, Mercedez M. Flores, Juan R. Guerrero, Peter O. Gonzalez Cruz, Paul T. Henry, Frank Hernandez, Miguel A. Honorato, Javier Jorge Reyes, Jason B. Josaphat, Eddie J. Justice, Anthony L. Laureano Disla, Christopher A. Leinonen, Brenda L. Marquez McCool, Jean C. Mendez Perez, Akyra Monet Murray, Kimberly Morris, Jean C. Nives Rodriguez, Luis O. Ocasio Capo, Geraldo A. Ortiz Jimenez, Eric I. Ortiz Rivera, Joel Rayon Paniagua, Enrique L. Rios Jr., Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, Christopher J. Sanfeliz, Xavier E. Serrano Rosado, Gilberto R. Silva Menendez, Edward Sotomayor Jr., Shane E. Tomlinson, Leroy Valentin Fernandez, Luis S. Vielma, Luis D. Wilson Leon, Jerald A. Wright

I did research to try to find all the victims since I became abruptly aware 16 years ago
There are too many
I could not discover a single database that contained a comprehensive record
No one can keep track of it anymore
I know I’ve missed people
I know there are 1000’s of people now missing people
Even 1 was too much

Hannah Ahlers, Heather Alvarado, Dorene Anderson, Carrie Barnette, Jack Beaton, Steve Berger, Candice Bowers, Denise Salmon Burditus, Sandra Casey, Andrea Castilla, Denise Cohen, Austin Davis, Virginia Day Jr, Christiana Duarte, Stacee Etcheber, Brian Fraser, Keri Galvan,  Dana Gardner, Angela Gomez, Rocio Guillen Rocha, Charleston Hartfield,  Chris Hazencomb, Jennifer Irvine, Nicol Kimura, Jessica Klymchuk, Carly Kreibaum, Rhonda LeRocque, Victor Link, Jordan McIldoon, Kelsey Meadows, Calla Medig, James ‘Sonny’ Melton, Pati Mestas, Austin Meyer, Adrian Murfitt, Rachael Parker, Jennifer Parks, Carrie Parsons, Lisa Patterson,  John Phippen, Melissa Ramirez, Jordyn Rivera, Quinton Robbins, Cameron Robinson, Lisa Romero Muniz, Christopher Roybal, Brett Schwanbeck, Bailey Schweitzer, Laura Shipp, Erick Silva, Susan Smith, Tara Roe Smith, Brennan Stewart, Derrick ‘Bo’ Taylor, Neysa Tonks, Michelle Vo, Kurt Von Tillow, Bill Wolfe Jr.

and NOW I’ve run out of lines and time to read off all 2,977 people who died in 9-11
Isn’t that a tragedy?

He was an old cowboy, and he never liked to hear that cowboys were a dying breed. Those were fighting words, indeed, so don't ever tell him that. Yes, a cowboy, through and through, and he hoped he'd die in the open, big sky of Montana, right by his old horse, Dusty. Falling in love with the outdoors, he grew up working on his uncle's ranch and was hooked from the very start. Now Ride 'Em Rick had breathed his last and finally met his Maker. He was ready, for sure, and died with his boots on, just like he hoped would happen. It wasn’t out in the open, but as he was snoozing on his recliner and he never woke up.

When most of his children were arguing about things they shouldn't be, Jet took charge to see to a proper burial. He refused to be among the squabbling siblings.

You never visited him!

Oh, yeah! The only reason you came over was to get more money out of him!

I loved Pop! You never loved the man!

You're just like him! Pigheaded! Impossible to tell you a ****** thing!

He's not just your dad, so don't act so high and mighty!

And so how would Pop have wanted to be buried? He was a hard man to know—even  after seventy-seven years on this earth. Well, Jet knew his father was a proud man, and a lover of all things cowboy. It would be nothing fancy—he’d be done up in his good flannel shirt and jeans, and of course with his boots on, and his cowboy hat slightly tucked under his cold, hard fingers.  A lasso would be a nice touch, and some of the old, cowboy tunes during the service would be perfect. Surely, if Rick was going to die with his boots on, they’d stay with him to the very end. So that was how it all would be.

And so Ride 'Em Rick looked regal in his humble garb. Stony in life, so he was in death. Mostly, the old man kept his distance, and that seemed normal to Jet. But now standing with his two boys, one on each side of him, Jet hoped he would have been a more hands-on father to his sons. With the help of his wife, Carly, he was surely keeping on course. The siblings were still at odds, but there were plenty of tears and hugs going around to keep the peace and to make a good gathering. And so it was a fitting farewell to man who felt most at home on the trails and in the saddle, buried with his boots on.

Must you go to the New World
forbidden fruit, thrilling
nerve-racking, dreaded exam

Looming where the sun goes
a spell you need to break
trailer-trash meets the Long Carabine

Making love to Laura Inglis Wilder
Shock and Awe meets John Muir
Martin Luther and Chicken George

All clapper board and Hopper-esque
while James Taylor sings Mockingbird
with Carly Simon

Your fingers trace that coastline
those place-names where perhaps
you will stand and wonder

At what people can do
because it is all there
in the New World

A new world to replace
the one you already have
should you ever finish with it

I'm better off alone.

All alone, all alone, all alone.
All alone, all alone, all alone, all alone, all alone.
All alone, all alone, all alone, all alone.
All alone, all alone, all alone, all alone.
All alone, all alone, all alone, all alone.

I.

The road to forgiveness
        is how we will all travel
        through our damaged perception.
The road of our youth-laced mistakes
        began long before Springfield,
        but let us never forget
        that lesson in interaction...
The laughs that would accompany
        our philosophical musings on the order
        by which we all arrive at consciousness,
        regardless of the fact that I would not
        arrive within my allotted time.

I'm more glad than you know
        that apology was even an option.

II.

Unconditional, even.

Burdened now in knowing that I am absolutely
         the beast of sin,
Taking the role of God as I planned to drown  
        the only person I used to run to...
Attacking the "Demon" I've built up in my
        head...

Carly, Carly, I'll just address you directly.

Free now from the paper prison which I vainly
        hoped would absolve me,
Selfishly throwing infants into the fire of tender
        memory,
Throwing down the IEDs, planted all round the
        ballerinas who would listen to my fake  
        stoic cries, mind lined with my own  
        intellectual elitism.

III.

Hypocritical as I read the Sutra in my bed.

Who was I to **** you after we spilled all of  
        that starlight into each other's ears over
        telephone signals?
Who was I to shoot down the look in your eye
        after all the genuine maintenance I made
        under your guise?

"I can't believe you're real"

True with different tone color now.

So thankful you weren't hesitant in returning
        your missiles to the silo.

And now,

Finally...

It is time to live.

Separation Point

as I slam down another frosty one or two
trying to forget trying not to think about you
it's like the old Carly Simon song you're so vain
of course its about him you just said so very plain

by saying the words I'm trying not to think
makes it obvious that I am on the very brink
of wondering where my next move should go
the feelings cannot be denied I think you know

all the good intentions not withstanding now
there is no questions of why only ones of how
god now I'm listening to an annoying guitar lead
by Niel Young please stop now I really really plead

my nerves are on edge in case you can't tell
ran out of smoke days ago now Im in hell
and now it seems I have this hairless chest
I'm fumbling around making myself an obnoxious pest

where did I go wrong or has it always been this way
maybe I just didn't notice or refused you might say
to except the limitations of this dreary normal life
should have joined the colonial army and played the fife

just what is my point this thought might have occurred
I would explain it to you but I just can't think of the word
pour me another barkeep keep the golden nectar flowing
aw don't tell me that you think I really should be going

I know babe it's time for you to move yourself along
I wanna sing farewell to you but I can't remember the song
dam I sure wish I had me a bowl or two or a joint
I'm so afraid that I have reached the separation point

Gomer LePoet...

Today her name is amy
Amy is strong
Amy is bad
Amy doesnt take your ****.
Amy is confident
Amy doesn’t love and doesn’t expect it in return

Tomorrow her name is Jane
Jane is weak
Jane is good
Jane breaks down at your ****
Jane is insecure
Jane loves too much

On tuesdays her name is Jade
Jade is as strong as her name
Her name of stone
Jade seduces every man she sees
Every sad man
Jade doesn’t care
Jade eats his sadness up and licks it off their lips

Eventually the names change and they go from Ana- the *****, then Sady- the free spirit, maybe even Victoria who is exactly her name

Crazy they all are in their sick twisted ways.
The way that Cassie is the picasso of con artists.
The way that Emily is a **** for mindgames
The way that Carly will never find love.

They all are different, no two alike
But they come together as one
To create this monster
And that monster is me.

I've been fairly great, comfortable. I've been thinking of this as just another day for weeks. But it's here. Being a alone is no fun. I went to my brothers. Lots of people there. Even had I known them, I'd still feel alone. I have this place in my mind that rationalizes the excuses I've heard and even given myself. Everyone is justified. The excuses, I had every reason; all others as equal. But it doesn't pour into the emptiness. It doesn't patch the holes; the gaps that keep everyone who has held our heart, now cold; a little glow hiding deep that we can't extinguish or lose ourselves, our sanity, our control if we ever took that one step that'd warm us enough to restart a fire that we know would burn our soul, not sure in which way. I'd die; I'd finally live. Idk. I've no idea. Can't truly give anything a chance, certainly not a second or more times. Not sure I mean someone, though Carly crosses my mind. But you, the better, and then the rest that poured a cup or two in this gallon hole. I miss you all. I miss you. I miss not fake smiling, inwardly fighting crying all the time. Which way care and love, dreaming of the same, we all ****** up.  *****, too much to know we have anything of value, narcissistic just the same. Negatives we'd love if we knew the why. There part of the very essence of, hidden, the very reason we love. Do they answer a question we have asked for years about who we are?  But the vision not clear enough; frustrations abound, expanding the expanse, "it's their fault, my fault, doesn't matter...loneliness just ******* sux."
I miss....
Not that it matters; just another day.
I'll be just fine tomorrow

Don't fix **** that ain't broken
Listen to these words being spoken
You think I'm jokin'
But let that **** sink in
This ain't even the worst part
But where should I start?
How bout' back to 2010?
Everything's coming back again
Things weren't pretty,
In fact, they were down right ******
Parents forgetting me and my siblings
They had better things to do
We didn't like to think so
but we knew it was true
We'd scream and yell, we'd had enough
But they weren't chicken to call our bluff
With their issues and misuse
And guys to mistrust
And girls that make fuss
Its no wonder I am where I am
Full of wonder and distrust
Life's just a ******* scam
This world's got me full of disgust
Flash forward to today
I'll hope and I'll pray
The good Lord will save my brother
From all the **** that started with my father and mother
My little sister
I see her everyday but I miss her
She's not the same
Timid and shy, back in the day
Now she'll ******* up if you get in her way
Ain't nothing changed in that house from yesterday
Except the absence of me
I couldn't take them away from all the dismay
No unfortunately, they had to stay
My siblings and me
They were all I had in that hell hole we called home
Then I left them there
Off to roam
My first real friends
And I left them in a place where happiness ends
But I hope they know
I want to watch them prosper and grow
They may be low, but they can rise above
So here's to my siblings, Kenneth and Carly
I hope you feel my kindness and love

I remember, or at least believe I do
(The memories wispy, ethereal,
The stuff of dream or perhaps simple misapprehension)
How I would be half-asleep,
The pro forma repetition of bedside prayers in my head,
Asking for benediction for Grandma and Grandpa
And all the ships at sea
As my father would come home from his lodge
(I forget the mammal in question--****** or elk,
Or perhaps some fictional comedic excuse
Akin to Ralph Kramden's raccoons)
Singing at a volume he believed sufficiently soft,
Though my mother was quick to inform him otherwise,
And the tales of poor Tom Dooley
Or some unnamed tavern in the town
Would intermingle with the remnants of my supplications,
And they would synthesize as some code,
Some argot of some unknown in-crowd
Whose patter was beyond my ken.
My father's songbird days stopped quite abruptly,
And during the proceedings paying homage to that coda,
God was frequently cited, indeed summoned,
And I suspect he tottered earthward,
At which point he proceeded to absent himself
From my further consideration and commiseration,
And I came to such a time where hazy night-time songs
Were part and parcel of my routine,
Though more bourbon-fed than sleep-induced,
And when the talk turned to such things
As the pros and cons of one's patrimony,
I was wont to opine that I was the product of two fathers,
The bequests of whom tended to wax and wane in value.

By: Cedric McClester

Republicans start to shop
If their candidate’s not on top
And their poll numbers suddenly drop
Because they’re labeled a flop
So those who used to push
For the heir apparent Bush
Are sitting on their ****
Wishing they had Hindu-kush

And that new-jack Rubio
What is it they think he knows
That allows his cash to grow
They will reap just what they sow
Now let me mention Teddy Cruz
Who hasn’t paid his dues
And when asked he has refused
But that should be old news

Although Carly Fiorena
Has a tough demeanor
Trump once asked, “Have you seen her?”
When he wanted to demean her
And then there’s Dr. Carson
More Don Rickles than Johnny Carson
Soft spoken spreading arson
With incendiary parsing

Now that I have your attention
Though it may earn you dissention
Some I just choose not to mention
They’re beyond my comprehension
So that leaves us Donald Trump
Someone that they’d like to dump
But he says, “Kiss my ****!”
See he’s energized and pumped







Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015.  All rights reserved.