You are my beginning and end,
the very breath I breathe.
My heart, my life, my soul,
my all.

You've made this life worth living.
The way that you love me,
with your kindness, understanding and joy,
I am moved.

Your heart, so sincere and trusting,
draws me in, making me whole.
All others, that came before,
are but faint counterfeits.

So wonderful are you that I melt in your arms,
not needing more, nor wanting for more.
One half of a whole was I...
You have come to complete me.

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Not only that, you can collect them from traveling where you can get it from the gift shop in the destination you are in. One way to get them without having to go on vacation or globe trotting all year round is to have your friends and family members pick up one on their vacations and send one to you. They're small enough and cheap enough to pick up while they're away, and it'll add to the interest of your collection..

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Luckily, criminals can be quite sloppy when creating counterfeits of articles of very detailed clothing. Owing to the consistent, high-quality finishes and details in the average pair of True Religion Mens Jeans, it is usually a simple task to determine the general authenticity of the item. For those of you who may be unfamiliar with these details, have a read through the following points as these attempts t explain them to you..  2013-03-13.nike.com nike air max

1131

The Merchant of the Picturesque
A Counter has and sales
But is within or negative
Precisely as the calls—
To Children he is small in price
And large in courtesy—
It suits him better than a check
Their artless currency—
Of Counterfeits he is so shy
Do one advance so near
As to behold his ample flight—

I am madness,
and sunshine while it rains
but I am no rainbow
there's no light at the end of this tunnel
only darkness
lit by florescent counterfeits.
I am a wind storm
messy, never dangerous
but always unpredictable.
I have spent my days
worried with things I cannot control
and I so badly want
something I can hold close to.
But I am solid as a rock
and when I approach you
it will cause some damage.
I have known for a long time
that loving me is hard
because I've tried
and even I get tired.
I am clay,
easily molded
but when left dry and untouched
I turn to stone.
It may take some time,
but even a diamond
needs pressure
to be beautiful.

How strange
That this inedible feast
Should be arranged with such care:

Place one greenandorange gourd here,
No here! And –- oh!
But there are so many
miniature vegetables to be sorted.
****! The pumpkin could not hold its position.
Well, we’ll have to see to that, presently.

This ceremony lingers for hours
Beneath the well-placed coffee poster instructing
“Éviter les Contrefaçons”
Avoid the Counterfeits.

And all the while Mother arranges a
cornucopia of assorted indigestables.

Maybe, we’re all wayward souls looking for a
way out.
Spent so long squeezing into factory shoes,
small enough to contain us
that we’ve become numb to these
hand-me-downs.
This society that holds our hands down.
Only raising them when it’s time to change shoes.
Feet out.
Toe’s pointed.
Watch your heels.
Years of this and we’re still wearing what they want us to.
Walking around like counterfeits,
reproductions, imitations, replicas,
when we’re only us.
Only ever been us no matter what they say.
It might be cliche, but it’s an obvious truth.
Feet out.
Toe’s pointed.
Watch your heels.
Us has never left us.
Pressing against the soles of our factory shoes as each toe
bends, folds, distorts, depreciates with every step.
But it’s finding appreciation in every step that,
loosens the laces.
It’s discovering no step is the same step that,
lifts the tightened lip a bit.
It’s learning how to walk while others run,
running while others walk,
that leaves you bare foot in a world of broken glass.
Feet out.
Toe’s pointed.
Watch your heels.
It’s taking leaps while others surrender
their ability to negotiate with
themselves.
It’s conquering the ability to dress yourself that wears out
the factory shoes on your feet.
Feet out.
Toe’s pointed.
Watch your step.

Light fingers
brush across a shoulder,
standing hairs on end.
A gentle caress
sends shivers
skittering down the spine.
A cool touch
sets the mind
racing.
But this touch,
so hollow,
so empty,
a vacant echo
of affection,
untrue, deceptive.
Counterfeits of love,
icy fingers trace
veins of sorrow.
An insincere embrace
stirs the mind,
inspiring false hope.

My own hand,
my own arm,
curled around me.
A vain attempt
to bring your love
to where I lie.

My liberal friends, who love to preach
who deign to enlighten and to reach
the lower orders with their light
to guard what’s left and set things right
must deal with recent facts unkind
which threaten the Progressive mind.

Your narrative took a massive hit
so **** it in—acknowledge it.
Your media, misinformed and lame,
now limping, has to bear the blame
for polling as they hoped to hear
leading (and speaking) from the rear.

Indeed; you claim we won by Hate?
in this you tend to under-rate
your sanctimonious fusillades.
Your nemesis, against great odds
was voted for by US, and won.
(So sorry that God’s will was done.)
Our diverse voters clinched the fight.
You thought we had none on the Right?
Hispanics? Thirty-odd percent.
And black votes came in (heaven-sent),
more numerous than they were for Mitt
so shut your pie-hole. Deal with it.
Without them Trump could not have won;
we’d be deprived of all this fun!
The people did not buy the goods
you foisted on our neighborhoods.
And patriots now meet brand-new friends:
political correctness ends
when Truth joins hands with common sense.
The truth will ALWAYS bring offense
to smug elitist hypocrites
and democratic counterfeits
projecting their neurotic fears
upon the Right. Oh the things one hears.
We’re fascist and unfit to live,
we eat our children; never give
a **** for the poor or a prayer for a soul.
The “War on Women” our evil goal.
We hear ourselves described as bigots.
Bilious brew–and we must swig its
bitterness in constant sips
as insult pours from your spiteful lips.

We’re rigid, white, misogynistic
(my, how you wax antagonistic.
Thought you were all about tolerance
and doing that Multi-Kulti dance…)
We’re gender-biased (and repressed)
unkind, unwise, uncouth, unblessed.
What-- since we don't like Globalism,
technoid One-World Kommunism
we dwell in some hateful **** state?
(You blather on…it’s getting late
to re-use all your left-wing smears
which barely reach our deafened ears.)

As young folks like to say: tough *****.
You’re stranded outside the holy city.
Our vast right-wing epiphany
out-sung your PC tyranny.

I wonder where true love went
before the world plunged into chaos
selling itself to counterfeits
giving away pieces of its soul
for temporal, physical pleasure.

Life is more than just "fun and games"
often times, it is sacred.
Love is deemed to be
"just a game"
and who can be the best at it.

We search for the best players,
worthy playmates for a good time
or ******* opponents.
The only value you have
is your "gear"
and how you make the most of it.

After that,
it's a job well done.
A "game over" after
"good luck; have fun"

After that,
you're sick and done.
These players don't play fair,
and in games like these,
there is no honour.

Where has true love gone to?
No, not your kind of "love"
I'm talking about the one that
cares
respects
honours
trusts
is honest, and truthful.

The love that grows when in hurt
the authentic affection that stays
even when it's harder to stay
the one that
is the most patient

What happened to
REAL love?

Where has it gone?
Why have we traded it with some

fantasy

and instead of loving with our souls
we lust after

bodies

like

dead

corpses?

practice the utmost care
form a vigilant style
peep around corners
be alert to possibilities

develop awareness
study what lurks in shadow
prepare for surprises
hone your senses

visualize potential scenarios
pay attention to the probable
spy through keyholes
listen through thin walls

dis-believe dormancy
list your suspicions
weigh all prospects
refine distrust

cross examine sincerity
swim in the sea of mistrust
suspend all gut feeling
deny altruism

question fact
support skepticism
increase misgivings
keep eyes wide open

bet on failure
indulge at peril
compile odds
rely on doubt

push a fuzzy brand of cynicism
label everything
marginalize what you don’t understand
be conscience of fraud

perceive through narrowness
downplay experience
recycle ancient lies
apply rhetorical loops

reduce all to the absurd
promote jealousy
revel at weak spots
blame impossibilities


design decision trees
ferment rebellion
create false alliances
initiate rumor

draft complex plans
generate half truths
produce unreachable ideals
fashion anger

establish favorable ground rules
start a corporation
coin a catch phrase
invent an argument

launch a promotional campaign
confirm nothing
invert the discussion
determine outcomes

verify the enormous
market greed
prove conflicting arguments
ascertain needless worth

uncover falsehoods
locate the correct word
detect limitations
counterattack always

deliver disadvantage
attack any and all flaws
educate with nonsense
promote vulnerability

assign bogus titles
fabricate counterfeits
rely on fictions
deceive the masses

compose a reason
construct pain
assemble wild games
dismantle the individual

move mountains
consume independent thought
cause penance
gestate chaos


nurse turmoil
outflank righteousness
muddle the message
confide in darkness

plant upheaval
nurture vanity
ignore any mayhem
misname disorder

cultivate hesitation
praise ambiguity
rejoice for indecision
celebrate vagueness

dance as a marionette
venerate a suckerpunch
insult pride
pay tribute to silence

bend any principle
admire baseness
respect behind closed doors
award deceit

erase distinction
cook up conspiracies
diagram secrets
format the unbelievable

lust over possession
outline an escape
draw excuses
strategize sin

parcel desires
aim toward the crass
object to feelings
target the sordid

commit to the improper
corrupt all souls
mock religion
root out the wise

increase loneliness
pigeonhole solidarity
rupture the will
insert schisms

shout down dissent
pound out inferiority
supply sadness
stand toward folly

seek out dependency
crush mild opposition
carve a new standard
delay action

there's this boy in my class who can move through water like a raindrop through summer air, though his eyes are brown like the ground on which he walks.
he is an ocean with currents and waves and groundswells, all waiting to drag me up and send me crashing into him.
i've always been a good swimmer, was even on a team once, but his water is pushing and pulling and putting its hands on my waist and neck, tangling in my hair, telling me to trust him.
but how do i trust if i've never been in love before?
how do i give myself to someone and expect to get every penny back?
do i have the time (is he worth the time) to count every coin and weigh for counterfeits?
is part of falling in love taking the risk of not getting everything returned?
can i come out of love unchanged?
or is change a part of love?
i know that you took mythology as an elective last trimester because i saw you in the library and was trying not to stare so let me tell you the story of icarus.
he fell.
hard.
he had wings fashioned from wax and feather and did not heed his father's warnings, flying too close to the sun, touching salvation with his fingertips, only to fall into the unforgiving sea.
if i am icarus and you are the sea then who is the sun?
is love personified within the sun in our myth, something that you must fall away from in order to fall into?
is love the enemy or the goal, something to obtain?
is there a reward for the fall?
is the reward love?
do i need to love (or even merely like) in order to meet you face to face somewhere out of school, coffee maybe?
or a movie?
i hear there's a new one out about a girl afraid of love.
to be loved.
to give love.
to accept love.
does seven work for you?

The Wings of a black bird curves,
As he’s deterred by the winds resistance
Contemplating its exist, but his will to go on is persistent
You see, he doesn't know what’s to gain
Or if he’ll find truth in those old sayings
Disputing myths and pointing out counterfeits
Depicting things in the distance, like he has a sixth sense
Reading the fine print on prescriptions,
Vulture’s find their addictions from the God’s
Because they have plenty of victims.
More than ****** or *******, Crack is wack, Mary Jane causes no pain
Medicines that aren't natural **** humans like its casual
Causalities building faster than the words of Socrates
The FAD of the F.D.A. approving poison as food like aspartame.
Preachers teaching blasphemy, Reading scriptures inaccurately,
Tickling the ears of those that pay a dollar to hear
That Jesus is coming there’s nothing to fear
So they believe they’ll be long gone before destruction is near
Death is at the door, but evolution is around the corner
The revolution will have to hold them
No true solution to control them
You see we are the caged beings
They lock our brains in
Books of lies, and entertaining T.V.

When searching for your heart of gold
Be warned that many counterfeits are sold
The gilded one may brightly shine
But flakes and fades given time
The one you're really looking for
Is made of carat 24

I have no vices,
no advice for anyone who doesn't either.
I don't smoke cigarettes or even drink coffee.
I'm not much of a drinker anymore
and marijuana gives me anxiety.
So on days when the world is crushing me
one foot into my throat at a time
I wonder what my vice could be.
Pills have found themselves into the throats of many,
and when they found the empathy in my esophagus
They won.
And then the blade found it's way to my wrist
and I wondered how I got like this.
So ever since then, no vices for me.
No way out, no mask or hiding behind lies
or behind the counter counterfeits
Just my own demons staring right back at me
like gazing at my reflection in broken mirrors.
I have understood the beauty of a sunset
and known what it's like to cling to the darkness shortly after.
I have felt the sinister euphoria behind broken drywall
and broken noses.
But all of it led me to the same place I was before.
Clinging onto drunken nights and drunken lips,
with every cigarette lit I reminded myself-
this wasn't who I am and I liked it that way.

Now those drunken nights turn to dark ones
and those drunken lips have turned to friendships
so ever since then I remind myself that nothing is permanent
and as I realize the only thing that could save me in the end,
was knowing that I've done ****** things and
the world that surrounds me has been ****** since I entered it
but I am no cowered.
I will love more than I have been loved
which isn't a hard thing to do
because people, printers and partying came first-
I have always been a secretary to secondary.
But I will fear no man, or take no one's ****
I will live this life how I envisioned it,
and love more than I have witnessed.

In the midst of all this
there lies a cloud, peeking above from the river tops
unwilling to be smothered with the flocks of crows
and it shows just what it desires –
Rays that almost seem blinding;
Only kind that boosts energy
Hinder the loss that was once expected

Unhidden silence lingers through day and night,
Triggering what was forgotten
Had it not been for the laughter
She would have become more senile
But could it be that she knew all along?
That there is a certain order to the
Counterfeits and deficit mischief?
Once a tot,
then a youngster
who was reassured thoughtlessly
Transcending into
the woman
who she wanted to be

Starting the day off with caffeine;
ending the day with caffeine
it is now a routine that is hard to break
but it is the only medium that she can dive into --
an exquisite ensemble.

Earthy fixtures of land oozes pungent smoke from railroads,
paving the doubt that squanders unknowingly.
Or at least it would be the last on her mind
Before it crawls back up, swallowing the good first and then the bad:
filling up the lungs,
the heart,
and eventually
the innermost.

Feast Of Summer Moons
A Poem by Eve aka Corset


Tonight and all over the earth,
there is merriment.
Cocky birds will dance
at  maske and vest.,
and many times at best
I have dreamt of this
in sadness
still to awake with laughter
within my breast.
and yet
beyond these lids
and lashes,
the world is
still our oyster,
whether it be hailed
by sighing violins
or paired by
charmed footsteps.

Madame Butterfly;
my cupid kills in arrows
and so grieves her;
her Puccini,
should love speak
beyond a reasonable
torment of expectation.

Let her feast then
beneath the moons
soft with light and
with souls as bright
as sunlight, brilliant
upon the water
bound not
by counterfeits of passion,
having railed
so long at love,
that it does seem to
have become a habit.

Whisper again
to a ****** night,
that dreams with
eyes wide open,
sailing to a song within.

Love is ancient and ageless and
hearts will remain young
forever,
for which men and women
will hunger,
because,
amour sweet amour
is a  feast
and fit
for summer moons.

April 15, 2015

Everything looks better from a distance.

From far away we’re fearless
and free from resistance.
Sweaty browed exhaustion,
Looks cool in the breeze.

Palm trees planted in my heart.
A paradisiacal coconut guillotine.

Wistful eyes turning counterfeits into truth,
Colorblind, grey water becomes blue.  
Soul screams mirage,
But the animal’s craving magic.

Postcards painted, stamped and sealed
The mind reflects ideals.
Everything shines with excitement,
when you're drunk on possibility.

Times are cold but I'm sick of old waves saying there new people with known names tell me there truth and selling my stuff for there clues just to find out they died to soon and the only thing that stands is a mic and a song 45 years go by if your not Elvis or Micheal we don't know you..
What to soon? Is 50 years old good for you ? Looking at and looking up to a Idol is two different mindsets luckily I got them both raging like sea on sand counterfeits people push people to the limits just to say "I got more power then you!" Then Die like the great beast in forest ....get ready folks I bet they have another show there bout perform in it..

If she’s a good girl
Do you wonder about her cheating
Other ppl eating what you had for dinner
Only more pleasing
Keep what you had for sure on a plate
Only they skipped work and kept eating
I’m not worried for myself, I just hate the misleading
The cause of distrust to all human kind
We find kind looks like diamonds on my wine
Or necklace shaped eyes
Only wishing for a ring with truer size
Who can compromise my lust for this
Only the one that bleeds bliss from her lips
Treasured filled demons that my shelf counterfeits
Only to treat my feelings of this drug and it fits
Coping with the person that walks next to me and convinces that I shouldnt be commuting adultery even tho I am convinced
My iPhone won’t even sync to what I actually want skipped
**** this is passion on my grips
The store my life and my wife
I wish I had
The singer that left my heart in a prison for growth once I was ready for the kids
I want to show what to hate and what to love
How to hate hate
More then a drug
How to dismember the fake
And trigger the *****
The **** this **** I’m outta here for lunch
I got my own paper to rip apart and spread for love

At the Dawn of life you were there I Am.
Even before you were there Speaking life.
For through his Speaking, Miracles happens.
For he seen his work and says it is good.
So there is nothing without him that is good.
The evil one counterfeits his Good works.
But the evil one can not hurt God creations.
Because there is none Greater then the Christ.
For only the Christ is the true Creator of Life.

Seeking and always having sought
For a community
A collective whom who call themselves my home
“That’s one of ours!” They may shout,
Or at least which I’d hope for
But keep your eyes clean
for some of these are counterfeits
The mirage of “mine” are they
But mirages are a mistake of the eye so
Maybe the misunderstanding is mine also?
But undoubtedly I still want an undoubtedly
An “of course! Don’t be silly!”
Not only welcome to belong if I so wish
But to belong is a given
An assumption and simple fact
Yes, that would be nice wouldn’t it.

/shovels' worth of sparrow songs,  hid before me, the praise of morn, I took to ***** and to cushion, that I might sneeze back, with a cajun sentiment of a, "misjudged" joke... mind you... who might care what you don't mind what others feel, when... no one, really cares, what you think? am I wrong to suggest that feeling and thinking are synonymous? both happen almost instantaneously, given a stimulant... is this some sort of pathogen of "wrong-think" sifting process? feelings are delayed patterns of the expression of intellect... thoughts are shallow counterfeits of emotions.... I too wished I was the blabber-mouth of highschool... when thinking cannot become rhetorical, it incubates itself in emotions... but when thinking incubates rhetoric... the emotions attempting to be staged, become, equivalent to, passing a stranger on a street, never giving a two second's worth of mind, worth of notice.

the pulverising presence
of the elemental man,
lodged within,
the seemingly, unmoveable
tiers of "object";
         foolish, seeking fame,
as to quench a familiarity,
in:
        overcoming the torrent,
of man "evaluating" water...
    riddling his equal...
perpetually undermining
metaphysical novels,
    with metaphors-,
              and never...
       the unsatiable thirst...
*** post annus.

I’ve realized
Many poems
Are about love and ****.
But not one poem
About the love for themselves,
Romantic counterfeits.
You can’t love someone
If you don’t love you
So step on off with it.
Write the deep
Dark parts of you
Stop narrating your hypocrite.

~kb

My kiosk.

You are one of my greatest friends,
We have shared much, have gone through alot.
I know, at times we take stock. Chose which enterprise to close, which to weigh, which to continue with.
As a friend, i would wish ours to be maintained.
We ain't beyond profiting, the enterprise isn't obsolete,
The inflation has its pinch but our friendship can survive the hardship.
I believe we  ain't totally unprofitable.

So this of mine, where i peddle jokes and care.
Where you are a customer, please don't cease to come.
I got myself more stock from China. Very original as i don't deal with counterfeits.
And i made the choicest, to please my favourite customer.
Be ye most welcome to the shop and please don't you ever stop from shopping.

in pensive hidden arias
the songs of rainbow trails
in the now and never of vivid clouds
carrying forth whispering rains that stings
in forms known yet heavy are hearts and thoughts
what glory for victory when sirocco hails in sunshine
and priceless reckoning hawks the bazaars of the nomadic tribes

sing me songs of azuris
find me a tent in dusty hapless dreams
for a time but not for ever for ever is never
my camel carries a heavy load I travel at setting dim
the temple gods sleep in Luxor and the Tuareg are raiding
find me in the promised land where the alchemist make gold
name me in your language but honour me not with your daggers

I fare in westerly winds
in land of two suns and fork tongues
taking cloudy covers yet a stranger to kith and kin
in all I trade by batter for in oases there are mirages too
alone and afraid I sell counterfeits and drink milk to survive
buying stories in opaque hues to gambol as sheep do just to live
in ancient lures I  pay while my heart and soul long for a true home