Although flummoxed by the gabble of hibernaculum I seethe with the verdant quiddity that is a cross-pollination that spans the gamut of historical memory and owns the usucaption of infrastructure equipping our bootstrapped capacities of literacy tethered to the ecumenical capacity for proliferation through amplified discernment that percolates at decorative gallop into the stridor of unified apothegms that quantify the visibilia of the broadened universe into the nexility of formula bounded by the parameters that equip synergies of space-time to envelope its own reification and magnetize urbane freebooters of coalescence to grapple with the ineffable mathematics of absorbed losses in the human fraternity becoming overlooked because of the providence of shepherded acrimony to escape the oblivion of barely marginal exponential extinctions of impropriety into fast-paced panoramas of expedited dalliance with optimums constrained by the effluvia of hinderbaggle which exist only by domineering mercurial lability of manufacture enabled by the siphon of Promethean reason to catapult the slogmarch of advancement by punctuated achievements registered by canonical gravitas to revolutionize society in longevity and interplanetary awareness that places a 1000:1 premium on a 165 IQ in comparison to a 110 IQ. Although bewildered by the beaucoup of raxed originality the anoegenetic flux of slogan achieves but a petty solidarity in comparison to the galvanized bronteum of registered invention that provides decisively seminal locomotive prowess to the foisons of promulgated ingenuity propped up by the capacity for raltention that exceeds the inherent longevity of humans on Earth into the permanence of memory to achieve radical vanguard frontiers within diminishing frames of a once vapid time recorded only through the lens of finicky preoccupations of crude retention rather than the kinship of the perceptive unity of the authors who remarked on history to share the same vantage with the distant onlookers upon that very history with such a convergence of judgments the photons that trespassed on inquisitive eyes of inquierendo are the very same blueprint for the modern savory traipse with selfsame perceptions embedded in canonical history like the spool of an exact daydream unfurled before inoculated eyes differentiated by context but achieving the same visual footprint of historical lineament provided by the original exemplar. The luxury of our provisional prosperity is the unique ability to browse spontaneously a two-century travail of perceptible records embedded in the same perceptual rudiments captured by the original vetuda thereby enabling the specificity of prowess to vicariously encounter distant gulfs of time with the simultaneous realization of past becoming present tense because beyond the revisionism of the censors the human lineage originates in approximated design tethered to the aboriginal photographs and hallmark expenditures of celluloid digitized into annealed constellation to provide separate junctures in space time with the same indelible percept decontextualized but potent by showcase of the verdure of the generosity of shared perception rather than cleaved faint traces of divergent imagination conceiving junctures by distal lurches of insular harbors of private registries of tact and discretion without the shared raltention of the plevisable entities that populate the fragmented lineage of space-time to achieve full congruence in percept first and abstract eventually as neuroscience slogmarches with the nockerslug of invidious depredation of sanctanimity. Adrift in iconoduly sustained by lambent monasticism of abnegation we were lost widows of insular idiosyncrasies of similar concepts separated by the longevity of imagination redacted into communicable formula to ensure the divergence of impact of liturgies heterodyne by vast distances but linked to archaic designs that formed the paradigms which eventually merged with the wiseacres of Renaissance conserved in momentum over centuries into the information capital that forms the futtocks of the girdle of a womb matrix of society sustained by a newfangled uniformity of exposure that slowly churns the collectivism of memory and the syndication of the cartel into the ubiquity of prominent thorns of perception magnified by iconography of the megalography of historical permanence evasive of censors and embracing the entelechy of coherent perceptions siphoned by different engineers but arriving at precisely the same conceptual imprint thereby unifying the perceptual world with the usucaption of leveraged networking of browsers of antiquity. The finesse of leapfrogs of modern human impediment is to scour the reaches of the troves of the most vivid imagination and expedite the turnstiles of conserved rollercoasters of enthusiasm probed by the cadasters capable of castophrenia to syndicalize the autonomy of human perception sejungible from indelible vivid footprints of abstraction upon an interface of truly hard-won vehicles of transmissible abstraction to win the arduous relish of once a vacuum of infested instinct into an algorithm of an intelligent source that creates the precise conditions of parallax to seed through celestial hosts the flourishes of stereodimensional traces of permanent cadaster into something that elects beyond the ethereal snatches of oblivion the provisional apportionment of sentiment above continence to set ablaze the rarefaction of raltention and quantify the intelligible impact of one artifact of civilization over the constellated taxonomy of all apothegms within the divine grasp of a sublunary eternity revived and recycled into syndicated scrutiny that bows to a convergent entelechy of instantaneous improvisation of perdurable registry into indemnities that litigate the humorous quizzical trangams of vastly outmoded obsolescence borrowing from panspermatism of technocracy to the edgy appeal of scintillating horizons of peerless scope that approximate the ommateum of approximated omniety but never span far enough for the distant riometers to see for deputized galaxies to be evoked in concrete human-alien achievements sempervirent and virulent guardians of the toil of sensation to refract off of its overhang because of redundant upbringing to shelve the incendiary impediments of the chary into the corsairs of revelation beyond gamuts of lurch and bypassing elapsed regress to arrive at ceremonial progress to trespass upon many minds with a unified concrete hypostasized entelechy of a fielded incorporation of organic life into a manufactured cycle of the most prolonged and beatific longevity capable of digestion and implementation from the toolsheds of hubris accelerated by the vainglory of subsidized harmonies that break through the barriers of language to sprout convergence in direct opposition to entropy to achieve oculate ommateum.The opponents to the logical syndicalism of positivism emergent as the verdant drape of homogenized pasteurization of raw lavaderos that capsize swallock and devour consciousness with predatory mobilism is the tregounce of the ponderous imprints of recapitulated stupidity which is easy to quantify in terms of human rarity because the difference between a 130 IQ and a 155 IQ is a difference in ingenuity power than exceeds 25:1 or an even higher margin of liquidation of indebted concatenations forming the flombricks of capitalized language finessed into burgeoned growth to radically shift postulates into abstract precision that observes the flanges of the dominion of inculcation into the filibusters of gainsay that supersedes hearsay in an evolution of the dialectic to exert transformative esemplastic rejuvenation that transcends creed and ingeminates the festivity of spectacle with the alvantage of albenture to such an extent it predicates new modalities of persiflage grounded on the aggressive patented expansion of the noosphere to inherit the instincts of orthobiosis while simultaneously inheriting the flair of redoubled ingenuity swarming with the vespiaries of predatory discretion working to ***** out glaring beacons of sapience so that intellectual capital is a local rather than ubiquitous emergence because of the prizes of urbacity enhanced by systems of masonic creed that preserved foresight with varying degrees of exactitude knowledgeable about outcomes but incidental in creating those outcomes out of the alchemy of the convergent sphere of spacetime to curve to synclastic pancratic refinement realized in the taxation of the most domineering figures of canon to indoctrinate the inkburch of wernaggle while the panorama of peripheral obscurity adduced by the resourceful few provides the progeny for a seminal equation that encounters the quandaries of precise retention amplified by the synergies of language exponentially grown by the depth and breadth of lexicon siphoned through mechanisms of percolation seeded by the convergent progeny of hindsight meeting foresight to a truce in the elected interests of the filagersion of the spotlight highlighting a universe that only exists with self-aware reification rather than plodding animated instincts of a stagnant match with a slowpoke evolution that scrawls the gabble of the vacuums of faint oblivion knowing only pain, agony and brief felicity but never registered into ecosystems capable of enriching themselves with artifices of origination rather than vapid retrenchments of the stale vapor of the exigencies that plague the intellectually bereft with tertiary deskandent perfunctory desuetude outstripped by the parsecs of the 170 crowd who secretly orchestrates the think tanks that run the furtive cryptadia of regional governance with foisons of fruition realized as dividends of exponential bypasses of even a linear route of the streamline by warping time itself to a spontaneous entelechy that triangulates a warped trigonometry that fathoms what can only be mapped on an imaginary flickering plane of fluxed existence that achieves sub-Pythagorean travel by altering the vacillating distances predicated by the theory of relativity into shortened tracts of abbreviation separating the bridgewaters of locomotion from the vast lurking prowess of reconfigured geometries lurking beyond the shadowy grave of reconnaissance into the penumbra of conservatory refinement. The punctual symmetries of thermodynamic decay met with a conversant offset in reverse acceleration of thermolysis converge with the centripetal prism of annulment to make stalemates of atomic precision appear grandiose to the economic principle of leverage acquired by debt because the discounted cost of symmetrical approximations of sentiment, abstraction and the already syndicated unity of perception vastly scale the scope of the reach of the amenable universe to tractions bound more by eccentricity of parameterized volumes of competing hyperbolas of a warped unity of tugging forces spawned by the differential weights of a flummoxed calculus that provides obeisance in ecumenical uniformity that was absent by degrees through the tinkers of time to adjust the orbits of consideration by tilted warbles of the songbirds that swim in abysses reaching sizable celestial tutelage providing reprisal for quintessential crudity mapped into a syntax of evolved refinement amplified by conserved concatenation accelerated into mastery by the coalescence of new lexicon to probe conceptual space unchartered by the nexility of normal human conduct and therefore bound to a different pattern of evolution that is oleaginous to the engines of revved ostentation in intellectual prowess that is selfsame from the majesty of heaven because of preordained populace meeting transitory flickerstorms twinged with the irony of discursive disclaimer and discretion of disclosure of emissary vehicles that power synaptic vesicles to burst with signal strength harnessing the unity of conscientiousness into a coenesthesia that fathoms interdisciplinary bridges rarely exacted by the formulas of a more rudimentary mind demarcated in taxonomies of scope that are taxemes for unrealized entelechy bristling against the headwinds of doldrum rather than zephyrs of accelerated approximations of the enumeration of elaborate sveldtang into seminal traversals of the inhibitory grasp of narquiddity exceeded by the alacrity of provident discretion in apportioned judgment enough to parameterize vast distances with instantaneous wiseacres rather than rippled mirrors of faint simulations of simultagnosia bounded by the regional scope of subliminal etches of harnessed flombricks invisible to most aptitude measures of working memory but evocative of subroutines that flourish because of the cross-pollination of exasperated sapience clambering for a perpetuity of renewable raltentions conveyed widely and succinctly in indelible tacenda broached by the wisest sophrosyne inclinations to survive the onslaught of traditional nexilities that make obtuse minds hardened by slowpoke myelination and hidebound parameters of achieved convention recursive on reiteration but not expansive on the tracts of genius reserved for the asylum boundary between insanity of delusion and bountiful riches of harvested non-conventional imagination which sometimes pollutes the integral provenance of rapid conveyance. True transcendence is summarily defined as outpacing pace itself to visibly outfox the forsifamiliation of events perceived as distance sworn by the ability of the accelerated frontier to understand the vestiges of the outmoded to the extent redintegration can surpass with imagination beyond the tethers of quddity that narrowcast swallock but refine the space that distances itself from magnitude and achieves a limited vetuda that phenomenalizes the redacted plucky perjury of self-anonymity to identify a novel visibilia of characterized clarity only specialized to the extent the vast sphere of retention exerts a gravitas over footloose fragments of disunity to surpass the skeumorphs of the trailing bolides of distant comets to avoid by meteoric trajectory the lapse incumbent to E=MC^2 which guarantees implicitly in the barter of nebbich chalky rigmarole that the energy of refinement is an abstraction limited only by the coherence of marginal dumose decay to estrange inertia as plevisable from motion and thermolysis as sejungible in partition what cannot be summarily be filibustered by the succedaneum of shortchanged shorthand convenience of the credulity of those who perceive dynamism of delivery as an easily fudged quandary not restrained by the logarithmic slowdown of conservatory inseminations of panspermatism of invention. The riddle of the enigma of neuroscience that presides over classifiable qualia is that the outstretched rax of rectiserial reorganization must gradatim invoke spurious prestige to predicate the entrapment of narrative exponentially slower than the impregnated literacy of an integral harpsichord of mind to finesse the octaves so that sublime majesties become superlative ringleaders of seditious conventions embedded more by absorptive brocrawlers than expressive werniques. We must fashion an orthobiosis that is leniency embodied but plenitude outnumbered by the progeny of its sculpted riches for extravagant spools of tapestries of refinement to be the imprints of legacy compounded by the complexities of inheritance in lineaments situated in the context of overhanging specters and domineering prospects swimming by commonwealth acatelepsy in a maelstrom of revived gammerstang notions of impetuous apostasy benighted by the macroscian and macrobian spans of the captive capture of a Taylor Series of infinite expenditure assuming perpetuity that necessarily converges on organization because of conscientious reversals of entropy into ladders of betrayal against the hegemony of ******* over the synquests of hortoriginality that spurn the castigations inherited from its immodesty of permutation to fixate on global problems of intricacy ragged in salebrosity bereft of the marginal galvanization of hidden inquirendos into artifice contingent upon elapsed epiphenomena of compounded rigmarole resonant with a simplified system of hostage complicity to a least common denominator that belongs to suboptimal refrains issued by Procrustean forces against demassified parsecs of bounded limitations exceeding the volume of perceptible shadows recessive in the alleles of culture but eventually transmogrified into teetotaler totalitarian principles of grave gravities of tabanids to the aceldamas of territorial joust rather than annealed irony of the recidivism of the plucky thorns of percurrent but latent vehicles for oppression to swamp the lethargy of durative formation such that the hambourne atrocity of hambaskets of hinderbaggle grapple mostly with the adolescent excesses of milked pleonexia becoming the downfall of cagey imprisoned syntax bereft of capable constellation and thereby stranded in vagrant proclivities that net positive only in the rare grandeur of my formative axiom of the axiolative excesses of my recensed definition of transcendence. The vacant harbor of asylum of abiding auctions of flexible transistors of wealth is inherently a poolswap of attractive chocolate-box travestime of incurred wreffalaxity suborning the lewd machination of funneled flipcreeks to the commerstargall of incendiary glaciers basking in boardrooms of ataraxic placations of commiseration found in dynamos lamenting degraded embodiments of regaled regelation as seasonal flictions of submerged vanity vaporizing the wisps of whimsical bloated grievances of paltry imparlance to the defalcation of a filigree of mind only sustained by the steady churlishness of preserved relic hibernating in brocrawler pleonasm to grindole the welter of spates of vapid deceleration of successful vibrancy measured in the gamut of hues to exact a penultimate ruse before the finitude of the capstone of capers of fiat remission slick with glamborge of gallionic sciamachy prone to revelry in the cretaceous extinction of monochromatic mathematicization of gradgrind visagists toying with the treacle of blue-sky action billowed into toxic spurts of contrarian aggression of herculean appendages of hackumber providing the bronteum of recidivism to vanquish a righteous trajectory on a pause of Canada Dry conveniences sultry in daft hipsters of tilted stage grafting conclusion prior to rapport of introduced variables of poignant tethers of necessary succor for a desiccated bastion of hidden unspoken reach fizzling into trangams of obsolescence because of perennial inebriations that thwart strong character to scandalize a pinhoked vessel of conscientious objection to the radiology of centerpiece hapless forlorn arid squelches of the vibrant verdure of macrobian dumose shelter for reformatories that invent incidentally accidents otherwise precluded by the ommateum of wasted foresight guzzled on the premium of disaster for a showcase of verve going awry steamy with livid filagersion aimed with a reluctant enmity against the cagey headwinds of recalcitrance inveterate to the scruples of the otherwise unscrupulous who foist lewd licentious philandered paragons of philogeant mysticism to forefront cowcatchers that eliminate kumbaya rijuice of gridlock impressionism guarded by the sentinels of rambunctious destructive attempts to evict intellectual propriety from careens of subtlety barnstorming with polyacoustic nuances of differential gradients of vapid bastions of strident but backwards versamily froward and bountiful of Head Hunter specters rather than heaved recombinations of orthotropism wed with mangers of savory dilettantism of the lionized array of brooks branching into rivulets and the fluminous barnstorm of pelagic awareness interrupted by the finicky prevarications of piggybacked fair-weather allies who secretly fund the slander for the mainour of dirt fundamental to meteoric rises acclimated to dissipated moral vacuums of disbelief of evidentiary miracles among the jostle of scientific regency that slakes opprobrium to illiteracy while benefiting greatly from my perceived barathrum that is rather a crowning ravenous achievement of appetite above substance and distinction varied from prediction that my Titanic zalkengur spared from the unnecessary sacrilege of less accommodating curglaff to the metaphorical hypothermia of albatross in dramaturgy rather than a pause glowering with mastery against my jarred enemies preying on weakened reach due to preeminent dirges of inkburch and swallock to ravage my sanctity with a hyped stage without a starlet daydream fantasia spectacle that is calculated to upstage even in the coverthrow of intelligentsia against the plodding boweries of pestilential raving resentment absconding with elusive enmity rather than cherishing a true trident champion of the seized seas and the traindeque of emulated intellectual accordions of claptrap chockablock pedigree that outlast gallywow afflictions of rapacious venality tenacious to the detritus of constructive detriment building the ashes of effigy before I am dead and buried with the storge of perennial legacy rather than scandalous privation of the obolary tenets of desecration above reabsorption of mendicant bodges of the bodewash of freedom’s counterstrokes of maskirovka ineradicable and plenipotentiary wit deniable but legacy ineffable by degrees of exponential long-winded flambeaus of filagersion swiveling with recessive rubble in a crenellated fortress guarded with tripwire insubordination against cordslave dependencies liable to recurrent reproach rather than sustainable filigrees of electrified balkanization toxic to the aquifers of modernity streamlining Roman imperium. To this flajoust I owe eternal behest as the captaincy of time is not a perishable whangam of superstition an affront to a provident rejoinder of verifiable prestige because the curvature of time favors the ripple effect of magnetized reninjuble charms alerted to upward soaring skies of inevitable peerless dominion in the  perceived symphily of competing benevolence with a shared stake in Earthly pulchritude emanating a sworn allegiance to the best interests of philosophical enlightenment

Dangerous damage uncontrolled.
Cloaked invisible & unwhole.
Hours wasted turned into days.
Strength to protect.
Regrets confidence can't let.
Degraded & hated.
Sadistic & overrated.
Real fragile feeling.
Broken shattered lives still healing.
Summoned evil & unearthed a demon.
Void of sense, logic, & reason.

Damaged & broken.
It was my throat the devil man was choking.
My words are true of that I am never joking.

A delicate & fragile child.
Abuse suffered & never recovered.
Cursed never to marry a significant other.

No one hears my screams.
No one can cleanse my body clean.
To return what was taken & make it pure.
To shield & create & patent it's cure.
To make me as I am & were.

Waiting to get paid so we can be fed.

No to care.
It is not fair.
That for me no one is out there.

I could drown myself in cups of coffee, in nicotine, old books, and whiskey.
But that won't make me crave you any less.
I could immerse myself in the deepest of enthralling literature, poems, a sea of colloquy,
Waves, strangling the current of my mind.
But you'd still be the resonant word.
I could listen to the sweetest of voices on repeat, golden like honey, sticky,
But my ears would only ever truly answer to yours.
Serpents tend to bite their own tails, a mythological and alchemic symbol of the cyclic nature of the universe: creation out of destruction.
But I'm not breaking my heart, loving you.
Swollen, yearning, daydreamed astray, gathered fast by night.
Curiosity deniable no more, innocence lost, hands wandered exploratory below.
Clambering desperate over themselves, those hands fell over folds of warmed flesh, over forgotten nooks and unfound crevasses, over trembling thighs and aching calves.
Astounded by the vast array of fresh delicacies, of unencountered sensations and deepest pleasures, she stood by loyal as those hands swiftly accustomed themselves to pursuing true ecstasy.
What divine rapture. What soaring heights of pleasure to ascend to. And what a delicious revelation to encounter such unimaginable ecstasy.
That twelfth year become a fourteenth, a fifteenth, a sixteenth.
And with the passing of each came a series of ever more adventurous trysts, the sorts of which Cousteau, Armstrong, and even Columbus could all be truly proud of.
Depths sounded, crevasses plundered, self’s nectars tasted and devoured, the pleasures of the flesh went unearthed.
Elaborate constructions lovingly shaped, waxed and honed, years of heady experimentation, trial and errors, fantasy and dreaming, all in the pursuit of even harder, better, faster, stronger *******. Perhaps it was that, or was it more a case of welcomed companionship? Ambidextrous frustration? A carnal appetite, most terrifying in its magnitude?

Isn’t it time then, you tried a little tenderness?
Be good to you.

dainty
dashing
deep
delectable

----

delicate
decisive
dear
devoted

----

dreaming
darling
dauntless
deniable

----

d­edicated
diehard

morning light warms my face
through patches of bright blue cerulean
orphans’ tears drizzle and drop the
sky’s condolences upon my windshield
the musty smell of wet asphalt rises
from the streets
it’s raining on a sunny day
the devil is beating his wife

his father hurt his mother
beat her ****** with his hands
he took care of her after "dad" left
even took up studies on abused women
and championed their cause
but broken down, tired men
often fall back on ingrained memories
push came to shove came to hit
he couldn’t break violence’s cycle
his father taught him well

they vow to love and honor
these duplicitous sons of Janus
but things happen
plans don’t work out
shortfalls and failures
loose cowardice and bullying
frustrations are acted out on loved ones
promises forgotten
knots untied

secrets have a way of coming to light
frazzled nerves and shame are palpable
black eyes and contusions speak
serious injuries become a matter of record
written in hospital and police files
etched on the walls in the vaults of heaven
deeds done in darkness are no longer deniable
and the face he ended up hurting
is his own

Oh, how I wish
my tears
would steer clear
of the fear that
lives here.

I am tired
of the hate
that is inspired
by the spiral
of bad faith
actors working
in accord
with each other
to enhance
the discord
that smothers
compassion.

I am exhausted
from passing
my passion
from within
to my pen,
from my mind
to my computer
and pasting
pieces of poetry
on social media
sites
that profit from
greed and destruction
in the form of
views and ads.

It all feels bad,
and I would be glad
to grab
a long nap
and never have to
rise and see
the violent spree
of soldiers killing
civilians,
while the state claims
that these children’s
suffering is justifiable,
that these horrors
are deniable,
that these lies are viable,
going viral, and capable
of making some lives
less valuable.

Until you have lived a blinded life;

Mistaking the voices of others as your own.

Until you have been shackled by chains of hesitation;

Unable to liberate yourself because you do not know of your own captivity.

Until you have become numb to the world around you;

Where pain becomes necessary only because it affirms your already deniable existence.

Until you and I can come to the realization that all we ever wanted was to understand.

Until you allow yourself to be consumed by the silence; finding comfort in emptiness

Until you lie in the dark for hours, questioning why you are still awake.

You will never know how it feels.
To be alone.

musing on pondering,

cogitating on ruminating,

postulating on speculating,

considering multiple theories,

deeming the discrepancies deniable

positing the petty presumptions,

theorizing multiple condsiderations,

apraising the mediations,

digesting the deliberations,

allowing for freefall meditation,

envisioning the expectations,

presuming the pontifications,

anticipating the asumptions,

comprehending the conclusion,

accrediting the rationalizations,

concluding the comprehesion,

spinning synaptic wheels,

hypothesizing the conjecture,

recollecting of the reminiscence,

adumbrating the prognostigcation,

concocting of the subliminate,

masticating on the cereberal machinations,

of the ocillations, in the agitatation,
apparent,
in an insomniac's maniacal brain,

reckoning not,
on the simple summation,
of the night's wayward,
mental arbitratration,


there is... just too much time,
to think....

and far too little time to write....

~When I hear 'Jesus said if you ask in my name it will be done', I hear and understand that what you ask and intend in the name of LOVE is most appropriate, the remedy to the problematic conditions being sought to be overcome and we are creating possibility on our part which nonetheless does not mean that others are an extension of our will, so therefor lead by exemplification. That action is already the first success and fulfillment.
Connect be with the one source and you are doing your part. Do not think that some God is failing you, or you're not connected or ready but that we are interdependent with one another and must understand in our consciousness that which is only a subset of information, that we are blinded by that light, that consciousness (what wakefully we are aware of here) is not the totality of what 'I Am' Is or the We and Any All.
Have faith in love for it is an appropriate force to wield. Otherwise faith is a force we all wield as it is anyway, regardless of other definitions. Bring light to the notion (accept rather than deny) that we do know the difference between what is love, appropriate in real time, as time and all with flows along. We can remain rooted and grounded from within and as love, from which we are first off and All Is Sprung, ANYWAY.
'Every knee shall bow.'
It is love that is in time will not be deniable. Tragic most so when death is the revealer, that is to say when taken to the grave and not while breathing, heart beat, beating here still...
We can try to rebel, experiment this here otherwise. Succeeding in these failings and the tragedies are most acute, always understood at various levels by thee involved, and or till some true forgiveness wipes fresh once again. Ultimately a self correcting force (LOVE that is), having our own will is just an integral loving part of it, itself. It Is All, shares every bit of itself, narcissistic in a wondrous way...we may become It's (possessive yet free, within the bounds of all nature) celebrated witnesses to the infinite perspectives and simple prowess indeed it all and we are nonetheless.
Key; it is all about what is here now already. More so is here, in addition too what we consider beyond, rather than more so all else is within the here now. For anything that might be useful to know, understand or practice for some afterlife...
It is infinitely more pertinent, potent and poignantly powerful in and for the here now of our embodiments.
I have suggested our will, and willingness is the ultimate path maker, breaker and taker. Amazing to understand that all that is most acute that will make what may be a difference none short of what heaven and or hell is like, right here on earth, embodied.~
~Temple body, temple earth!!!~
~This will or which I can call the X-factor is changeable by our whims ultimately and only. That it can shift, be shifted, will and does so even subtly, if acutely aware or not. Though all that can or does follow can be instantaneous, that is our will and the powerful deep reaching impacts.~
I look forward to this;
~'that', 'greatest show on earth'~
~and the 'greater things', yet..to his-story, her-story and our story and stories as we claim or seem to know them or not!!! This prowess is wondrous, it is!!!~
Umm WOW!!! heart emoticon heart emoticon smile emoticon
~The problems are here and inherent, illusory yet (may be) easily discerned, solvable yielding an ever increasing wonder of the unfolding futures of universal desires, some would call our 'inherent rights' and some 'our rightful inheritance'. Our past and present will support more so by our gregarious natures than have to have it condemn ourselves and one another with our otherwise self pitying defiant wreckages, by other nature. And remain in some status quo of too many everyday offensive defensive ploys.~
~I leave the further ponderous wonders as they have always been, yours!!!~ ~ heart emoticon heart emoticon R

I started writing myself  little notes and some long letters around
the time the continents began to shift.

All I asked was for her to spell it.
I knew it would either change her life forever  or scare her into believing it wasn't true.

How much longer can the lies rule when the truth of things is nolonger deniable.

If there is no space and we are all there is why not open the gates and let us all live free.

I'll be the criminal who gave up all that lays beyond the ice.
A Shangrala where evil men have made the rules and our missing children are sent like cattle for the leaders to enjoy.

If I didn't stick to the Drink induced Poetry or the simple short stories talking about Love and Drugs.
I knew that they would eventually come for me.

My Allies be the pistol, the lighter,the mirror,the tin,the bottle of ***** and the broken girl who slept like a corpse curled up on the love seat.

I left the girl who left so long ago a note.
I started it with "I love you"and ended it with
" If they ever tell you I've gone mad know that I haven't.
I just got tired of fighting the lies and only dreaming of the truth..."

Let it go let it shake
earth quake founded over imaginary hate

I'm still near
you're living in fear
you push, I pull, we mirror
you wear a face like I can't see beyond it
I'll stand here all day if there's something willing to give
I can't dig through asphalt,
not sure if I can handle the quick sand underneath
Scrapes and wounds as I swirl down into your spell

I just want to breathe again
I just want the undeniable to shift to what once was deniable

Thank you...  for if you knew me then,
back when I was frail of will
silence my deniable partner, my youth's imaginary friend
mute - back when I let others decide
for me what was best
if not for them

Then, for everyone else, a circle ****
of leaches & nosforatu
if only you had seen
how I avoided my life like sunlight
taking the quickest way around, no risks
rather than witness each
cacophony of sight and sounds loudly
how a soul awakens
heart hushing night... with you,

if not for you,
how I dove into black fires
of E, K, & G
wishing my days would leave me
dancing and attacking each fiberous
inch of my energy
you would understand me
now - that I am thanking you...
but luckily, you stand in my presence
my spring / of my winters clouded
often cold and uncaring
undecidedly blaring at me

You have broken the spell
for now I have a story
a life I can script in Fairy Tales
because of you, I am as open as branches
and beaches on Summer Days
sunlit happy endings and waterfalls
or of paradise to wash the grime away
I am newly fresh
born to seek my dreams and find golden
blooms of rich bouquets
days so full of quenching my future's thirst

I have learned to drink love again
for that, I thank you...

Now it is yours to nurture
only feed it truth...

musing on pondering,

cogitating on ruminating,

postulating on speculating,

considering multiple theories,

deeming the discrepancies deniable

positing the petty presumptions,

theorizing multiple condsiderations,

apraising the mediations,

digesting the deliberation,

allowing for  freefall meditation,

envisioning the expectations,

presuming the pontifications,

anticipating the asumptions,

comprehending the conclusion,

accrediting the rationalizations,

concluding the comprehesion,

spinning synaptic wheels,

hypothesizing the conjecture,

recollecting of the reminiscence,

adumbrating the prognostigcation,

concocting of the subliminate,

masticating on the cereberal machinations, of the ocillations,
in the agitatation, apparent in insomniac's maniacal  brain,

reckoning not,
                   on the simple summation,
of the  night's  wayward,
                       mental arbitratration,
i have way too much time
                                          to think...

Whilst there is no 'Devil', which the Roman Catholic Empire needs to, and projects, exists,
while that's just them dictating their notsee/totalitarian control over the world, there is
the closest thing that has ever existed to it, the united **** of assassin's gov't's '****',
as it's called on the street, specifically the republikan conspiracy's psychic-terrorism.
This 'devil', which is dictating their 'final solution' for humanity is the only game in town,
like ******'s was (though they did a slower blitzkrieg by dividing and conquering the country
into a baskin 'n robbins of 23 flavors of supremacy), as well as a plethora of conspiracies,
which 'gotherdone', all feeding on the genocide of heterosexual, Caucasian, non-republican
newborns to men, this notsee dictatorship's 'Jews', which includes some of them too, ends all.

Climate crisis and our king-kong sized terrible-two, ****'s playing his keystone President
act for two months has determined his, the republikan conspiracy's, global oligarchy's
agenda, which they couldn't get done politically for the last 2 decades, the stealing of
social security from the elderly, infirm.  Instead of privatizing S.S. they're exterminating
recipients through the purposeful spread of corona virus, which kills the elderly, infirm,
predominantly.  Also, daily domestic notsee attacks by the republikan party has numbed the
populace to them, so their doing terrorist attacks before the election won't have the same
effects of determining a polity vote more right-wing, ergo, plausibly deniable extermination
by pandemic, incompetence, is happening instead.  Will dreamers awaken before their ******?  

This is nothing new, the republikan conspiracy led Gov't, it's **** and millions of minions,
Neuter newborns, anatomically destroy toddlers, kids, teens, adults constantly, also doing
all crime, spreading all disease, pestilence against and to them, shoving it down their
throats to further their ****** of those non-republikans.  How could you not know their the
devil.  Every republikan uses their jobs they supposedly do to exterminate non-republikans
instead.  That's the same as ******'s minions did, for it wasn't generals, admirals, etc.,
who realized his and his ***** rise, it was the file-clerks, receptionists, cab drivers all
destroying, committing treason every moment, instead of doing their jobs, like the serial
murderers who masquerade as cops, exterminators ..., as doctors, judges ..., as justices.  

**** and his admin. were informed by 17 intelligence agencies about corona in january, he
lied about it extremely, pathologically and still is, as recently as March he was saying
"we have 5 cases and by the end of the week we'll have one, then it'll disappear", in order
to determine as many people were infected as possible before the states jumped in to try to
stop it, the highest of treason.  Simply because the quickest spread will be in the largest
metropolitan areas, specifically Cali and NY, where most voters are democrat or too sane to
vote ****.  Also, the predominance of infections and mortality will be in the lower-middle-
class to poor, 60 % of the nation, who can't defend themselves as well, and will die from
it more, price of living skyrocketing, people have less $ than ever, class war by pandemic.  

His latest, "the cure's worse than the pandemic", everyone should die by criminally insanely
putting them all back to work 'til death, to get Utin's **** more $ sooner from his corps.
I told you during the campaign that if he won we'd be lucky if he doesn't pull a Caligula,
that's only three steps from his current hitlerian positions.  The "Stimulus bills", the
Dems are pushing back but the Repubs are getting the edge as ever, 1/2 a trill to bail out
big businesses and they kept his criminal cuts to food stamps, still stealing food from the
mouths of babes and handing it to billionaires.  Pharma, medical supplies corps making hand
over fist from bidding war between States, federal agencies, Bush, **** klans kafknchinging.  
The 'big fix' is in, if it ain't fixed don't break it, stop criminal insanity, vote Bernie.

Why don't we worship the amygdala, make it sound exotic, start a fever-fire in the tropics, pour ice over the horizon via helicopter, view the mind's eye like a crystalized Shambala, sell entry to inner-peace to create the illusion and wall the dam, there's no concept of reality without a sham, low as the almighty dollar, processed meat behind bars get your necktie pulled through your collar, I've been all over the world from the edge of my seat, I'm what you could call a stay-at-home road scholar

You braggarts, *******, maggots and fascists
politically correct censorship-sailors and catfishes
you politicians and career-victims, you're all slapstick
you talk too much and don't hold water
you bark at false alarms and pet yourselves because even a broken watchdog is right twice a day
and then ignore every other crisis you called all hands on deck to, raised arms to crush in uproarious righteousness like you were the voiceless minority's own private militant flyswatter
everybody has a voice, we're all screaming or sitting in silence, tired and apathetic
I'm going deaf, I've lost it and I can't keep beating this dead hoarse, the whole world has issues, why are we making such a meal out of ourselves like we were the main course
ever since being put in the spotlight when Columbus sailed up onto the wrong shores
you can recite the diddy of fourteen hundred and ninety two, but you know why Native Americans were called Indians is because he set sail for India initially, don't you?
I have little hope the future will even be able to keep the ocean blue

The only thing I learned in school was psychological warfare, every day since I first set foot on those grounds I've taken live rounds and dealt my hand from the bottom because you can bet on the flop life doesn't turn up fair, it's too much to ask for someone else to care, read from a script for drugs, your alcoholic or *** deviant teachers whisper be-wary of thugs, down sleeping pills, painkillers and my daily dose of brain-fire extinguisher with *** from one of those best dad mugs, it never fails that when you go chucking snails, karma turns around and reminds you why you have to watch out for disgruntled slugs

You might catch one with your name on it
slower than you imagined, this grueling dawn hits
the purple of the sky lines up with the shade of skin under your eye
it's like makeup made to match, a tone only being sleepless for so long
or being on the business end of a fist can really catch, unnatural beauty looks so wrong
it's become normal to manufacture sell and lie, be a product, a marketing scheme
wanting to lean into exposure, explode and fracture and leave behind a profitable footprint to follow at the launch site
it's inhuman, to be switched on for twenty four hours, seven days a week, to be a character, it's obscene
and to defend this are small armies, cute little consumers who don't think beyond the opinion placed before them, placemat bib and all
dissent is negativity, disagreement is not normalcy, it's not okay, you're attacking someone who's so important to me, they literally saved my life
insult and rant, sob and bawl
unless you were personally given chest compressions, or they showed up and held your head so you wouldn't swallow your tongue while you OD'd, and then helped you back from suicidal depression
I don't care if you've shared a stage and danced and sang together, all people are equal
and none of them worth what they think they are, good, moot, or evil
so you can waltz up to a celebrity getting into their car, pop them off and become a shooting star

Sit on the curb and crack a spine, the Catcher Murders loosely spun a web and cast a net all through a grimly imagined fascination of mine, what candid activity to activate a conspiracy for an elected representative on who gets to live, give me the nominee for Manchurian candidacy! Violate the vile walls of a small mind's sanctity, the moral composition of even the purest person is only sound in theory, threaten their family, test their temptations, loyalty and mortality, fill their head with supposition, non-disclosure to time of day, information, no exposure to familiarity, turn what they think is false inside out and convince them what was never real was all along a secret reality, watch them break their neck to stare directly into an eclipse like it was their fealty, to disable themselves in service to pushing out of their skin and beyond their own ability

Mind control is simply too powerful to be stopped at a question of whether or not it's ethical
if I wrote this while someone dictated it, with a gun in one hand while they fed me an acid strip
and I knew they had complete deniable culpability, say for example if they worked for the Central Intelligence Agency
and they were abducting citizens from America and Canada, for one big experimental acid trip
to create Whitey Bulger and Ted Kaczynski
I mean, I know everybody hates to hear other people whine, you fall on your knees in thoughts and prayer for or worship on forums shooters like the murderers at Columbine,
when every day someone provokes a loner, outright pressing them to slip into a violent state
I begrudge myself a few hard feelings against people, but I wouldn't **** time to squash my hate
a child with a gun is an adult making bad decisions, the grey area is a lot harder to see when you're sorting through footage of dead children, bullet-torn classrooms haunting your nightly visions
everything is a joke and everyone laughs in the privacy of their own shadow
when their standards in public are much higher, where there's smoke there's not always a real fire
how can you police yourself, live up to the idea of who you think you are right now,
don't look for an answer, go on and say it, how?

Words are eagerly voiced and artistically engraved
Words express boldly and conceal silently
Words awaken a dream and define reality

Words engage delightfully and reject painfully
Words inspire love and rage war
Words seal mysteries and expose secrets
Words soothe compassionately and fight bitterly
Words brighten the miserable and darken the cheer

Words sing joyfully and cry desperately
Words declare deep feelings and proclaim harsh judgement
Words uplift the hopeless and scar memories
Words restore the broken and tear the fragile
Words mold the mind and dictate the outlook

The power of words is deniable
What words do you choose to live by?

you could get caught up in all that nonsense like you wanted to, or you could just jump right into the fray like you did last night--the choice is yours, but you shouldn't mistake one for the other: the former is filled with nothingness and lifeless characters who are only ghosts in your mind, while the latter is at least a struggle to figure out what all this **** really means and where you need to go, what you need to do to make it all work--take what happened last night when you got on the bus: there was no room left except in the space right behind the punk girl who was chewing gum--now, you knew it was a bad idea, but what were you going to do, grab some ceiling bar and sway, and lurch, sway and lurch till you got where you were going?--hell no, it was supposed to be a civilized world, and so you'd wanted to sit--in your head, you'd already earned the right to sit just by virtue of there being a seat, just by you wanting to sit down without ever wanting to push someone else out of the way to get it...so when you finally did change your own mind and convince yourself that she was just some kid trying to act cool, that there weren't going to be any problems, that's just when she pressed that button underneath the armrest that adjusts the angle of the chair, and the whole thing headrest and all, came crushing down on you so that you had to look across at the women you'd come onto the bus with, the one who was supposed to be your lover and your friend, and you knew from the reaction on her face, which was fear and horror mixed with laughter, that you were once again allowing yourself to play the ******* clown, and all so that it would take the edge off of what you really wanted to do and say--who the hell did that little ***** think she was, anyway?--she knew you weren't supposed to lean the chair back that far, she knew there was next to no legroom back here--it was between the rear of the bus and her chair for christ's sake!--and yet as you felt your face pinging with both the pain of sudden discomfort and with the u deniable and stinking presence of the upholstery that had been filthied by years and years of ***** hands, *****, sneezes, and smoke, you also felt through all this that she was getting comfortable in her chair, that punk girl, that she was maybe even readying herself for a nap as you were living through a new experience of being torn between losing your **** asking who the **** she thought she was and the civil propriety expected of you to solve all of this amicably, or at least without harsh words and ***** looks...but if anything had been the story of your life, it'd been this very thing: how to not lose your mind when almost every ******* button was being pushed and pressed over and over to make you do just that--it wasn't an easy thing to first wrest your whole head from between the wall and her headrest and then lean to the side and whisper to your friend that you really needed to move, that you'd meet her at the next stop if you lost each other on the bus, and her silence meant exactly that: she wasn't giving up her seat for anyone or anything--she'd seen it first and had gotten there first and it was hers by right of this layman's etiquette, it wasn't like you were going to argue the point with her because you knew she was right--the seat she was sitting in was hers, you weren't suggesting that she change seats just go be closer to you, just because the two of you were together--what was this, middle school?--it's not like this was a nightmare or something, you'd just have to find each other later on, no big deal, right?--except that for you, it was a big deal: it wasn't that you were asking her to trade places with you or surrender her place and that she should go find another because she was smaller than you, no--you were just hoping she'd want to give up her seat in order to be closer to you, and you couldn't help but feel a little slighted and you knew it wouldn't take very long before this "slighted" feeling made you feel put out, that once more, you'd be expected to hold your tongue and get over it because when compared with the "big things" in life, what the hell was her not wanting to exchange her comfort alone for being uncomfortable with you possibly in a standing position till the bus pulled into the station?--it wasn't a big deal at all, you knew it, but it did feel a little "larger than life" just because of the physical discomfort you'd been put through just now...seriously, what ***** would've just stayed there being squished like a bug between the wall and that punk girl's seat?--in your head you were playing alternate ways you could've handled that whole thing that wouldn't have resulted in you squeezing yourself out of what had felt like the jaws of death around your skull, you had started imagining what might've happened if you'd simply asked her to put her seat up a few degrees so you could pretend you weren't a ******* veal being prepped for slaughter, imagined her response to be, "it's my chair," and doing nothing about it, which would've prompted you to say, "but it's my fist," and what kind of trouble could you have expected after that bus ride when the thing finally pulled into the station?--she would've taken a picture of you with her phone, gotten a cop, and you would've been right back in trouble just like you felt you always were, like your old man had always told you you'd be because of that mouth of yours--and in the life you'd always wanted to live, the one where people did sort through their problems using communication, using the experienced gleaned from previous and present relationships, the life you often lived yourself where you heard yourself speaking the words in the way that you'd always wanted to speak them where you could convince yourself that you really and truly were that person, that man who could refrain from all violence in order to serve the greater good of actuating all desire through talk and thought and connecting with other people, like this you had convinced yourself this was the norm, that everyone should just ask things politely and be gentle about getting rejected or when life handed down some pretty rough **** to deal with...how many times had you heard yourself speak such words that you couldn't help but think we're too soft or seemed too obsequious...but were they "civilized," were they peaceful?--yes, they had been, but maybe they'd been too civilized, too peaceful, and maybe the propel who'd been listening, those you'd been dealing with had mistaken your kindness and respectfulness for weakness--hadn't it happened before, and hadn't it brought out the very worst in you?--because, in unwind response, you had become the animal: it started with that look of yours they used to call part of your "black mood" and then sometimes it would escalate into the kind of cursing that pre-empted a scene of violence--between these two things, people usually caved or the situation resolved itself, but how had you felt afterward?: always like an animal and never like the educated man you'd spent all your life cultivating from the deadness they'd given you to work with, from the nothing they'd given you as a blueprint for success in this world--yes, you were a wolf, but life had made you a lone wolf, and now you were growing tired of all of it, tired of being put into these situations, tired of having to do the exact right thing in any given situation even if you knew it was someone else's version of what was right you were being judged by...and what were you going to do?: dump her on her *** because you were expected to "be a man" both by finding another seat and by intimidating the punk girl into submitted to your will?--who could satisfy both at once?--you didn't need this kind of judgment, it was bad enough already that you all "all this" just having a blast with ******* yourself up with all these options that weren't really options at all--if you gave the girl a ***** look, your woman would snub you because if it and she wouldn't let you forget it--for years later, you'd be called out for behaving like an animal...and yet if you said nothing and found another seat, she'd be mortified that she had chosen someone who wasn't a "real man"--god, how many times had you wanted to show her that if being a "real man" meant using violence or the penchant for using violence as a first response to any and all problems, then you would always be the "real"-est of men...there was no way to win this, it was the hallmark of civilization after all--you might've wanted to think you were a "lone wolf," but weren't you with that woman not giving up her seat back there, weren't you on a bus full of people?--weren't you going to busy yourself for the rest of this day and most of the next trying to get your mind off of this flashpoint that had almost become an outburst not "then and there" but in the here and now?--and what had been the chances of you coming out of all of this looking good, what were the chances that you'd find her at the station after you'd both gotten off the bus without a moue of disgust on her face you'd be expected to ignore and also ask her about because both would show you cared too much, both would show you'd ****** up, both would show there was no way to win, which was something you knew in advance, that you'd known just as soon as you got up lurching and swaying from ceiling bar to ceiling bar looking for another seat...but that didn't mean you were used to it, not yet anyway--

ludicrous and lime she's bought my wine
then usher on the farm or circus daemon
was house carrying a whim to heart
where climes are thought that fighting down the hatch  
where rumors are frothy in those diamonds caught
wish only tout cookie once thunder crash has melted speed
but any counters that claim violence is deniable here
and viable to an Osborne scene but wading in traffic
as a country lane shade its spree and what lies in air was a roadside
fair in bloom on Sunday afternoons in Tamaqua boon pillared spoon

20 Cents
The guy gave the war concern 20 cents
This was enough to buy ten bullets
Which would **** ten enemy soldiers
If fired accurately by a good soldier
He'd give more if he could afford it
But he was jobless and skint
20 cents was all he could afford
Bread and coffee cost money
Even if cheaper thru the VA
His benefits were little not enough
So he just gave 20 cents
To the war collection team
When they knocked on his door
It brought back memories
Vietnam and Central America
Plus other deniable places
Still alive in his head
He didn't like Russians
So 20 cents was fine
The cost of ten bullets
For a competent soldier
He prayed they wouldn't miss
Once he was a soldier
With many good kills
All of them Russians...

The silent strike of a summer breeze
escapes the night of corrupt signage
Supine modes of concrete repose
as men of ages corrupt and distract
Upon the mist of the morning dew
where a new day contrasts another
and the meaning to all of this uncovers
On blocks of melodies, locks of promises
as memory mocks and knocks maximises
Life takes turn on the unseen bends
and the obstacles become comforts
like dreams so attainable but deniable
like a river stream with a peaceful flow
cleared of storms and eventful rage
holding on the beauty of this life
where skies light and sparkle existence
and the true love within sing melodies
filled with laughter and abundance
of the unseen mystery in the human form

(Excited and inspired by existence, self love and all the beauty that humanity shines through)

What did you say?
Come here you, pray
I tell you the truth
With deniable proof
That you are just fine
Because you are all mine
Those bites that you feel
Are all that is real
Let me tell you
There are but a few
Rules in the end
The kind that I send
At the end of a rod
There is only God
I know you will see
What it is to be me
With unlimited love
And hands from above
Just do what I say
And together we'll pray.

I’m just going on
Through life without you
Because we are done
What else can I do

I just would like comfort
At a time like this
They’ll just have give some effort
Friendship is what I truly miss

Who is reliable
Or even trustworthy
Most i know are deniable
I’m shown no mercy

I’m begging right now
Please help me

Search distaste. Unwanted feeling replaced.
Download spiraling playing of my inner self quickly.
disputant in my freedom and dignity destroying  and decaying
came all that's worth saving.  
relinquishing dis-soothing this uncontrolled desire?
Displeasing my soul with infected virus.
Controlling my thoughts into deviant acts.
Not heard normal, form factor total 180.
Complexion secrets possessed. I'm trying not to get mind ******.
will it?
His behavior is hidden away with no known cure attainable just yet.
destroying self will out of its power restricted movement,
deniable motives, take place for all that is now defaulted elsewhere in the hands of the anonymous intruder

ever so often
something will
filter through my mind
sweet and colorful
twisted and curved
like ribbon candy
being formed
as my mind slides back
the way you will
when walking up
the downslide side
of an escalator
then you stop
just before
you reach the top

what makes it so hard
to step across
always turning out to be
that backward slide
is there something to fear
that you feel exists
will not simply disappear
by it being denied

it's existence
yet your resistance
to its insistence
that you must go the distance
is keeping it alive

but there is always something
so serene
about that backward slide
that feels like
being suspended
somewhere between
life and a dream
caught in a stream
of consciousness. ....so

go go go go go along. along along

life has so few
things to do
to bring that
ribbon candy...back to production

so to watch as
it is
taking form
soft and warm
sliding through
stopping and starting
folding and molding
itself into what
it will soon be
a hardened memory

so maybe thats why
why you always stop
before that step across
at the very top
as if you ever could have
kept those memories pliable
or truth deniable

okay okay
I hear you loud and clear
face my fear
take the ride all the way
to the top and step across
and be grateful that you
always considered it as
an escalator.
and not an elevator


top floor watch your step!

I

In her eyes, he could see
the boisterous nature of life
the visions of future, and the scope of silence in between.

II

All I'm doing is, living off my resources: inside a storm, maybe.
Still death cannot be simplified and its contours lie within me, despite the scales before me.


III

A boisterous seeker, peripheral and pragmatic in conclusions, beginnings without answers: the stone that sought fire and wore it off in air.

IV

Maybe you know this,
Our *** is not intuitive not impulsive neither terse, not the least deniable: a cadenza to the violent soul of nature, our language and its mistakes impromptu every second.

V

Look! the landscape- its frozen miniatures configured within: dwellers on its ***** and creases, cheering the new sun, its sheer magnitude -the sum of their lives now, this moment.

She asked me not to
as she sweated in bits of fear
I got this "I spoke softly"
She then gazed as though
it were the perfect moment.
The realist sanctified ability I had,
I was calm hearted with buzzes of anxiety
but as I held back her hand stretched to me in a  lifeless motion
Immense i got hit by emotions and my thoughts went on a marathon of illusions
Could it be done or it was deniable
I could be the right person
Rather the right one to cause everlasting tray of bitterness
I was almost there and she called my name###
It was in vain for help-
How couldn't I go?
How could I go?
It was me or her
An eruption of stitches to her voice
All  was in the silence of the Cinema,
She couldn't hold her laughter at the expense stomach breakdown
the amended cough series through her through
On my toes she went held tight and aimed
I sat sober and claimed!!! Ahem
Butter witch sandwich
I swerved back to the top while the struggle caused gambles
Did I still have too?