Dosn't thou 'ear my 'erse's legs, as they canters awaay?
Proputty, proputty, proputty--that's what I 'ears 'em saay.
Proputty, proputty, proputty--Sam, thou's an *** for thy paains:
Theer's moor sense i' one o' 'is legs, nor in all thy braains.

Woa--theer's a craw to pluck wi' tha, Sam; yon 's parson's 'ouse--
Dosn't thou knaw that a man mun be eather a man or a mouse?
Time to think on it then; for thou'll be twenty to weeak.
Proputty, proputty--woa then, woa--let ma 'ear mysen speak.

Me an' thy ******, Sammy, 'as been a'talkin' o' thee;
Thou's bean talkin' to ******, an' she bean a tellin' it me.
Thou'll not marry for munny--thou's sweet upo' parson's lass--
Noa--thou 'll marry for luvv--an' we boath of us thinks tha an ***.

Seea'd her todaay goa by--Saaint's-daay--they was ringing the bells.
She's a beauty, thou thinks--an' soa is scoors o' gells,
Them as 'as munny an' all--wot's a beauty?--the flower as blaws.
But proputty, proputty sticks, an' proputty, proputty graws.

Do'ant be stunt; taake time. I knaws what maakes tha sa mad.
Warn't I craazed fur the lasses mysen when I wur a lad?
But I knaw'd a Quaaker feller as often 'as towd ma this:
"Doant thou marry for munny, but goa wheer munny is!"

An' I went wheer munny war; an' thy ****** coom to 'and,
Wi' lots o' munny laaid by, an' a nicetish bit o' land.
Maaybe she warn't a beauty--I niver giv it a thowt--
But warn't she as good to cuddle an' kiss as a lass as 'ant nowt?

Parson's lass 'ant nowt, an' she weant 'a nowt when 'e 's dead,
Mun be a guvness, lad, or summut, and addle her bread.
Why? for 'e 's nobbut a curate, an' weant niver get hissen clear,
An' 'e maade the bed as 'e ligs on afoor 'e coom'd to the shere.

An' thin 'e coom'd to the parish wi' lots o' Varsity debt,
Stook to his taail thy did, an' 'e 'ant got shut on 'em yet.
An' 'e ligs on 'is back i' the grip, wi' noan to lend 'im a shuvv,
Woorse nor a far-welter'd yowe: fur, Sammy, 'e married for luvv.

Luvv? what's luvv? thou can luvv thy lass an' 'er munny too,
Maakin' 'em goa togither, as they've good right to do.
Couldn I luvv thy ****** by cause 'o 'er munny laaid by?
Naay--fur I luvv'd 'er a vast sight moor fur it: reason why.

Ay, an' thy ****** says thou wants to marry the lass,
Cooms of a gentleman burn: an' we boath on us thinks tha an ***.
Woa then, proputty, wiltha?--an *** as near as mays nowt--
Woa then, wiltha? dangtha!--the bees is as fell as owt.

Break me a bit o' the esh for his 'ead, lad, out o' the fence!
Gentleman burn! what's gentleman burn? is it shillins an' pence?
Proputty, proputty's ivrything 'ere, an', Sammy, I'm blest
If it isn't the saame oop yonder, fur them as 'as it 's the best.

Tis'n them as 'as munny as breaks into 'ouses an' steals,
Them as 'as coats to their backs an' taakes their regular meals,
Noa, but it 's them as niver knaws wheer a meal's to be 'ad.
Taake my word for it Sammy, the poor in a loomp is bad.

Them or thir feythers, tha sees, mun 'a bean a laazy lot,
Fur work mun 'a gone to the gittin' whiniver munny was got.
Feyther 'ad ammost nowt; leastways 'is munny was 'id.
But 'e tued an' moil'd issen dead, an' 'e died a good un, 'e did.

Loook thou theer wheer Wrigglesby beck cooms out by the 'ill!
Feyther run oop to the farm, an' I runs oop to the mill;
An' I 'll run oop to the brig, an' that thou 'll live to see;
And if thou marries a good un I 'll leave the land to thee.

Thim's my noations, Sammy, wheerby I means to stick;
But if thou marries a bad un, I 'll leave the land to ****.--
Coom oop, proputty, proputty--that's what I 'ears 'im saay--
Proputty, proputty, proputty--canter an' canter awaay.

Ahhh,  but,
it's simple pleasures , that rejuvenate life's rough weather patches

and it's interesting how animosity turns from curiosity to real world , pilgrams
and biblical stories turned hindu prophecies and karmic debts paid in full .


of stories unwinding, to fantasies tidings -
tidal whirlpools of old age relinquishment
from trapped in butterfly effect
movements
and conjoined twins of several natures
EARTH , AIR, FIRE , WATER AND EATHER.

there seems to be no end to the twin connections -
but a very fine line between earth and heaven

a very fine tune between love and lust
a very fine sand dune's shapeful curve between trust and lack luster half hearted , half arsed apathy.

it seems that there are no more fruits in edens dens , then zen masters at hand to help us through the din try not to get those dijins in your ears but let them pass freely - knowing you are safe from fear.

everyone has their own soul mate
but some have mates

i  tell ya

this is set to be a pretty interesting venture ,
to discover and adventure
across plains of realization ,
with the wind of uncomplicated, honest , one love
as the sail
and i hail a taxi

to the next borderline and i know we'll be making it in time and style

and keepin it all holy
all the whilst

we walk on sacred ground

we walk on sacred ground

we are sacred ground.

All the years Ive invested in our relationship
Now its just a sinking ship.
Everything Ive given, tried as hard as I know how.
All weve done and we still cant work it out.
She calls on the phone, Hear the steady drone.
Havent heard from her in weeks.
Where are you?
Are you sleeping with some other woman?
I told her if she acused me again then were done.
I cant do this anymore, its not fair to eather of us.
Its not fair to her.
All I gotta do is get a job and a place,
then everything will be back to normal.
But Ive had the job, the place to live, Ive given all I know to give.
There must be something more I can do, I cant hit the floor, I cant loose you.
I am, I have, its to late.
My mistake of the past of come to haunt me here, this is all a lie, I cant hold on, its all gone.
Cant loose you, cant loose me. If I loose me dont know what I will become in here.
Let me show you whats in here.
Let you know my fear, let you see my pain.
Though I tried in vain, tears fall loike rain.
Cant stop this love in my heart for this dove for whom I fall apart.
Though the years Ive come to know her fears.
Through the time Ive come to do the crime.
No matter what I say its the same everyday.
No matter what I do its all the same to you.
Through hers fears Ive come to taste her salty tears.
Through my life Ive come to cause her strife.
No matter what I know I cant ever go.
No matter what her gain I still cause her pain.
Even though I cant hide I still have to face my pride.
Even though I cant run still gotta stick to my gun.
I said the vow now I gotta figure how to make it work feel like such a ****.
Who am I trying to fool, who am I trying to school.
Cant tell me a **** thing Im allways rite.
My whole life is just a lie and Im allways wrong.
I know that now yet somehow Ive got to rite the wrongs Ive caused to those I love.
Knowing Im wrong doesnt make what Ive done rite and it dont make it none the easier for her.

WANTED:
one poet!
garret trained,
impractical in many ways,
scatterbrained, dark, mysterious.
and lovelorn.
must be at the very least lovesick.
not adverse to occasional starving and bouts of woe.
even able to adapt to living
in a continual cycle of manic depressive flux.
able to overcome writer's block...
and worse!....word drought
able to converse in both, straight and rhymed verse.
desirable; an understanding of
freeflow and rap
must have ability to write,
day as night and night as
day
must work for minimal pay,
read: mostly zero $$.
just occasional compliments.
should be able to empathise.
and in a position to consider (as a carreer pathway)
attempted suicide.
applications by way of
verse
can be sent to the reader
via the internet eather
and will be read of course
but be warned the reader
is fickle and may not deign
to reply...

hallmark cardwriters need not
apply

Drugs don't numb what cant be touched but you can't cut it out eather.
Beauty occurs when you forget you exist.
I choose the life of insanity.

Here we go on another roll
Through the past the present
The new year

Watching xena play and the
Red firerocks blaze
While love ones rock the Mississippi.

And darling friends smoke
The marajuana and send
Their love into the future.

We'll time it bends
and wraps Us in its
Day it's night it's eather.

Let's be ourselves
Protect the will
To make dreams
become tomorrow.

The very first line of every good rhyme
Is such a fine chance to step out and sing
While the following lines eke out on the page
It sits right there at the front of the stage

In from the eather it comes out to play
Holding its own on this hallowed ground
The words swirl beneath it and tumble on down
They’re caught in a the grip of its blazing reflection

Line after line, the story grows
In the split of and instant it falls into place
Caught in the measure of a casual endeavor
The words seek a song that can last forever

Flowing on down to the very last line
There might be an answer if you look at it right
We’re lost in the thick of the poets firm grip while
The magic upends us and slips off the page

A little less than two
Days
Weeks
glances between history books
Dewey Decimals
You dreaming between the leaves
resting in the earth
Waking you up to the divine eather
and being comfortable with our dying bodies
loving the treasures
searching for time

I will sprial into alcoholism
or Marajuanaism
or Lysergicical Mental capacitationalism
I want to connect with god on this earth
selfishly
and lovingly