For Al, who left us, Nov. 22, 2014

With each passing poem,
The degree of difficulty of diving ever higher,
Bar incrementally niched, inched, raised,
Domain, the association of words, ever lesser,
Repetition verboten, crime against pride.

Al,
You ask me when the words come:

With each passing year,
In the wee hours of
Ever diminishing time snatches,
The hours between midnight and rising,

Shrinkage, once six, now four hours,
Meant for body restoration,
Transpositional for poetic creation,
Only one body notes the new mark,
The digital, numerical clock of
Trillion hour sleep deficit, most taxing.

Al, you ask me from where do the words come:

Each of the five senses compete,
Pick me, Pick me, they shout,

The eyes see the tall grasses
Framing the ferry's to and fro life.
Waving bye bye to the
End of day harbor activities,
Putting your babies to sleep.

The ears hear the boat horns
Deep voiced, demanding pay attention,
I am now docking, I am important,
The sound lingers, long after
They are no longer important.

The tongue tastes the cooling
Italian prosecco merging victoriously
With its ally, the modestly warming rays
Of a September setting sun,
finally declaring, without stuttering,
Peace on Earth.

The odoriferous bay breezes,
A new for that second only smell,
But yet, very old bartender's recipe,
Salt, cooking oil, barbecue sauce, gasoline
And the winning new ingredient, freshly minted,
Stacked in ascending circumference order, onion rings.

These four senses all recombinant,
On the cheek, on the tongue,
Wafting, tickling, blasting, visioning
Merging into a single touch
That my pointer finger, by force majeure,
Declares, here, 
poem aborning!
Contract with this moment,
now satisfied!

Al,  what you did not ask was this:
With each passing poem,
I am lessened within, expurgated,
In a sense part of me, expunged,
Part of me, passing too,
Every poems birth diminishes me.
__________
(this poem more than most,
for its birth celebrates
my loss, your loss,
which cannot be exonerated 8/7/18)


__________
written at 4:38 AM
September 8th, 2012

Greenport Harbor, N.Y.

Bride of the desert
the indomitable town
Solomon’s Kingdom

            
Lost in history, I wander through a city that was fortified by King Solomon, raided by Mark Antony and ruled by Queen Zenobia who made it the capital of an empire, only to be captured herself and paraded through Rome in gold chains.

Civilisation upon civilisation are entombed within Tadmur; in a huge plain of carved stone blocks, massive columns arched in rows or standing alone, a Romanesque theatre, senate and baths, dominated by a great temple whose origin dates back four thousand years.

Due to a clever mistranslation from Arabic by the euro-centric traveller who ‘discovered’ Palmyra, the city also has a modern name.

Here for millennia, a tribe of Bedu have camped within the folds of these desert steppes and blackened Tadmur’s ruins with their camp fires, to trade camels or herd goats and sheep. Walking the divide between city, desert and the more fertile steppes, I search for their surviving descendants and find a black woven goat’s hair tent with its edges raised to capture a cooling breeze.

Hamed and his sons, huge and wary of foreigners, welcome me to sit within on  carpets and then graciously serve dates with innumerable small glasses of tea. I indicate ‘enough’ in the traditional manner by rolling my right hand and the empty glass. Hamed continues to voice his concerns about the lack of feed for their sheep and the prices achieved at market. I readily succumb to several small cups of greenish Arabic coffee, before being allowed to take my leave.

For millennia the wealth of this city was based on tariffs levied on goods flowing out of the desert aboard swaying camel caravans. Today, these once proudly fierce tribal Bedu no longer breed, train or ride camels.

The Bedu greatly prize their reputation and the respect of their peers. Their traditions are the foundation of these small tribal communities and may predate Islam;  a life now undermined by borders, nationalism, government settlement plans, conscription, war, television and tourism.
                                         *+     +     +      +      +

Black torn empty shells
swept by Mount Lebanon’s shade
Cannabis Valley

As I recall a haiku of ‘images’ of  my very first journey to Damascus, from war-torn Beirut through the lushness of the Bekaa;

in the here and now
a dark suit and Mercedes
cross the Euphrates

Defence Minister, Rifaat al-Assad is in town with his fifty thousand strong Defence Companies, complete with tanks, planes and helicopters.  A coup d’état is in progress to assure Rifaat’s succession to the Presidency of his older brother Hafiz al-Assad, now recovering from a heart attack.

Last year, Rifaat massacred some forty thousand Syrian citizens when he ordered the shelling of the city of Hama. Nobody in Damascus will be underestimating him.

All political and military power is in the hands of the al-Assads and key generals, who command the military and police. The majority of whom are of the Alawite minority Muslim faith from the rural districts near Latakia in the North. Before their revolution, governments came and went in weeks.

My friend Elias is allied to Rifaat’s cause, by simply doing business with the son. Now he and his family share the risks and dangers of this coup failing and stand to lose a fortune. Monies paid locally in Syrian pounds for goods delivered to government agencies.

Elias’s connection with Rifaat and Latakia, as well as his confident presence, humour and love of life, still allows us easy access to the Generals’ Club. Sadly, there is to be no table and floorshow, but a closed meeting with two senior Generals, where we learn that Hafiz has recovered enough to take charge and is now locked in discussions with his younger brother.

The decision is therefore made for us. We say our goodbyes and drive to Latakia.

On Sunday Elias meets his brothers, then with his family, we visit his parents small holding and enjoy a meal together. A wonderful fresh mezza that includes my favourite, courgettes stuffed with ground lamb and rice, in a yogurt sauce. Syrian food is amazingly healthy and my cuisine of choice.

It is a cloudless Monday morning, as I, Elias, his wife and children drive into the docks to board an old 46 foot motor cruiser. Huge cases are stowed as I make my inspection, then start the twin diesels and switch on the over-the-horizon radar. Our early departure is critical. We cast off and the Mate steers for the harbour entrance below the cliffs that guard it. As the Mediterranean lifts our bow in greeting, the disembodied voice of the Harbour Master tells us to return as we do not have permission to sail.

Ignoring the order, I increase our speed through the short choppy surf. We are sailing under the Greek Cypriot flag and in an hour I hope to be out of territorial waters.  At 14 knots we are a slow target.

Fifteen nautical miles from the coast of Syria, I leave the mate to follow a bearing for Larnaca. Elias has opened a bottle of Black Label. I quaff a glassful.

Later noticing a noisy vibration and diagnosing a bent prop shaft, I shut down the starboard engine. Our speed is now a steady 8 knots, so I decide on a new heading to discern more quickly the shadow of the Cypriot coastline on the radar screen.

Midway, the mate and Elias begin babbling about a small vessel ahead and four separate armoured boxes encircling it. Ugly Israeli high speed gun boats or worse, Lebanese pirates. Should they board us and find stowed riches, we will be killed.

Leaving the Mate to maintain our course, I go on deck to play the ‘European Owner’.  The vessel they have trapped is long and lean with three tall outboard motors but no crew are in sight.  Leaving them astern, our choice of vessel now fully exonerated, I and Elias throw another whisky ‘down the hatch’.

With us holding the correct bearing, I ask Elias to wake me as soon as we near Cyprus. Feeling utterly exhausted I collapse into a bunk.  

I wake unbidden, to find the Mate steering for the harbour entrance. Shouldering him aside, I spin the wheel to bring the vessel about. Shaking, I ask them why there are minarets on the ‘church’ and did they not notice our being observed from the top of the harbour's hillock, below which a fast patrol boat is anchored?  The Mate sprints to the Greek Cypriot flag and is hugging it to his chest; Elias wisely prays.

I command the wheel as we motor directly away from the port of Famagusta and Turkish held Northern Cyprus. We later change bearing and pass tourist beaches, it is night fall before we moor-up in Larnaca.
                                         +     +     +      +      +


Later that same year I am called to a last urgent meeting in Cyprus with Elias. He calmly tells me that he will be arrested when he rejoins his family, who have returned to Syria. Elias asks me to take full control of his Cypriot Businesses, then returns home and ‘disappears’ with his brothers.
                                         +     +     +      +      +


Since sacking the two Arab General Managers when they tried to get control of the bank accounts, it has taken more than six months to locate the prison holding all the brothers. We obtain the release of all except Elias, who has been tortured.  We then ‘purchase’ him the exclusive use of the Prison Governor's quarters and twenty four hour access for Elias’s family, nurses and doctors.
                                         +     +     +      +      +


Over the last two years, I have honoured my promises and expanded trade as far as Pakistan. Elias is still imprisoned.
                                         *+     +     +      +      +

The Avro Vulcan, a majestic big old iron bird, sublime,
was to do a flyby for just one memorable last time.
Maybe with a jet fighter or a Spitfire on each wing, who knew?…
Unthinkable to miss it… almost a crime.
Thousands turned up every year, always a great day out -
but this year would be special, there'd be no doubt.
The last flight of such a legendary plane made it essential…
So, after the flyers’ break for lunch, the crowd filled out.

The entry fee to occupy the field was heinous. 25 quid!
That was for adults - and a fiver for each kid.
So, many more than those that paid, sat happily outside pubs.
Others found shelter in the perimeter’s trees and... kinda hid.
Now, to see a Vulcan fly anytime, anywhere, was magic…
She was a Leviathan of the Cold War,
that held players in the planet’s power games in awe.
And this would be her last time doing the rounds on the air show circuit -
Seeing this locally was hard to ignore.

Mark (a nephew) was a window cleaner by trade.
A regular, down to earth, happy go lucky guy.
…Saturday comes and the kids all voted "McDonalds"…
“A Happy Meal!” they’d cry.
He said that was fine - they’d all go after he’d nipped over
to the airshow to watch the Vulcan fly.
No idea whatsoever, of course, that just by going to Shoreham
just 5 miles away, for half an hour or so… that he might die.

He told his fiancé he’d only be an hour or so…
be back in time to take the kids for a burger and, "NO!"...
He wouldn’t stay. He was the only one in the family
who was bothered anyway…so he wouldn’t ****** up their day.
So, in haste, because apparently Chicken Nuggets & Fries
was much better for the kids than a load of old planes,
he cranked the best out of his bike along the 27 and,
once at the lights by the Sussex Pad,
he pulled over to the kerb to watch from the bushes.
Good view? Well not bad!

Andy Hill was a flyer of many years. His weekday job,
flying for BA.Taking holiday makers, business folk, transatlantic in Seven Four Sevens...
A flight deck maestro, soaring up, just under the heavens.
He’d done Shoreham loads of times… it was exciting, exhilarating... almost sport, his game!
He was off the hook,  became an ace. It gave him that 15 minutes of fame!
Free to thrill - a hero! Standing out from the crowd with every daring step. His aim!

He wasn’t just a petrol head… this bloke had aviation fuel in his blood.
Adrenalin on tick-over. Nought to 60 in 2.7 seconds with 22,000 Horsepower under the hood.
He left Epping full of fuel, just 90 miles away, so in two ticks he was with us, fully loaded and, the weather? It was good.
First up after lunch at half past one… he streaked across the crowded field.
Over and out and up, up, up… Little did the spectators know that Andy had forgotten he was flying a Hunter…
He thought it was last year’s aborted routine in a Jet Provost… The one they'd stopped part way through being, too risky.

"He’s not gonna make it… I can’t look!" There was a hush… a nanosecond’s silence and then the rush,
the whoomph that said it all… that hush! The ground shook!
And the eleven - plus others injured - went up in Andy Hill’s very own fireball!
No, of course, Mark wasn’t the only one to die that day.
Ten other ‘innocents’ left us in pretty much the same way…
Maurice, Dylan, Tony, Matthew, Matt, Graham, Mark R, Daniele, Richard & Jacob.
Mark T, our Mark, had the distinction of having two funerals, not just the one…
More remains were discovered, analysed and found to be his!
Even after he’d…already well... ‘gone’.

The injustice that eleven spectators or just passers by should die
when the survivor, the off target driver, who sped too low from the sky, should, after a suitable pause in this ghoulish game, be exonerated and not take any blame.
Well it’s all sort of things… It's ridiculous, pathetic, obtuse, a joke… who do they think we are?

But the great and the good deliberated, scratched their heads and worked hard to make everything look ’right’…
Tolerance for the bereaved to grieve, platitudes, condescending attitudes, a memorial service.
Thanks - genuinely - to the emergency services… Not just a little buck-passing… But the public often judged them. Arsing about - to cover their corporate backside.
They can’t insult me (or us)… intelligent people have tried…

Andy Hill was judged to be not guilty of 11 counts of manslaughter by gross negligence.
But he claimed he blacked out in the air, having experienced ‘cognitive impairment’ brought on by hypoxia … possibly due to the effects of G-force…. Of course!
The 11 were either hit by the plane or roasted in a fireball caused when the jet flew too low and too slow. But if it wasn’t Andy’s fault then whose was it?

Surely this can’t be the end of this travesty of justice!!

BUT, there IS a new memorial to the dead. And, trust this...it’s a good one too…  The best that money can buy - and that anyone can do.

But there's is also a very bitter taste, still today…
that somehow... just won’t go away!

I'm tired
It's to early
How exhilarating
Get up get moving
Get exonerated of past jury's
Long worries
Till death I'm  exasperating
Extravagantly emulating
This feeling
Feels like
It doesn't come with emotion
Not cold
No hurry
Not warm
Don't scurry
I will not promise that the murky waters ahead
Won't let you tread
Till you crystallize dead
Then evaporate while your mind is sleep
And your subconscious soaks the memory cup effervescent
Then will you know that
You will not come back
Escape the elasticity
With electric scissors
And that's more then needed
But it's this route you go
Because the Harder you learn the more you will grow
It's too bad this whole time you weren't sleeping
It's time for work

They were young high school boys at the time

Too young to know what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives

An ill fated night of fun and games with friends in the park

After the street lights had just turned on and it was starting to get dark

Unbeknownst to the boys, a female jogger was out for a run

An unknown man had come out of the darkness and knocked her unconscious

He committed horrific acts of physical violence and left her for dead

After police at the scene first discovered the woman bleeding severely from her head

They put out a call that “black and Hispanic teenagers” were out in the park “wilding” and up to no good

An order was given to round everyone up and to bring them in for questioning

At that point the young minors were beaten, terrorized, and coerced

By the very police force that had promised to protect and to serve

Family members were confused, separated, threatened, and lied to

The boys and their family members were tricked into signing false statements

Framed by police and convicted by the media even before their hearings

The boys didn’t stand a chance despite having the support of their community and good legal representation

There was no true peace of mind the wrongful convictions could have provided for Trisha, the jogger

There was no true justice that could be served in those two courtrooms either

Five innocent boys were convicted and served long sentences for a crime they did not commit

Korey, Kevin, Yousef, Antron, and Raymond now use their experiences to help others who should have also been found innocent

On
The counters of poetry
I dock and lock myself
Then
I scope on the bottles of liquors seductively
And spellblind by their syllables
I took the shakers and hybrid
The Similes
The Onomatopeia's
The Nemesis'
The Near-Rhymes
And The Triadic-Lines
Then I gulp fourteen shots of Sonnets
From my paper-glass
And glug a paradox
Or a foil-sigh
Trice,
The knots
Bundling my eloquence
Will exonerated itself
And torpidity will cuff my consciousness
And the droplets remains in my paper- glass
Will impel me
To quest for myriad of them

I'm not drunk!
I'm not drunk!
I'm not drunk!
I
Will slur
With half an eye open
As if the other is broken
Stock on a comedy chair

Then
When the
Limbs of time tread
Will I rush to the counter
Like the athletes at Olympia
And hybrid
The Blank-verses
The Alliterations
The Limericks
The Litotes
The Aporia's
And The Dysphemism's
And
Gulp countless
Yet measured shoots
Of Ballad,with my paper-glass
And unravel the oratories
Of sacred secrets,eclectic enchantment and regrettable reflexes
Aside,or injects the world
With my rugged pins of eruditions
Bestowed in me by the liquors of poetry

I'm not drunk!
I'm not drunk!
I'm not drunk!
I
Will slur
With half an eye open
As if the other is broken
Stocked on a comedy-chair

Again
I will rush
To the counter,and hybrid
The Exaggerations
The Personifications
The Imageries
And The Caesura's
And
Gulp uncounted shoots
Of Epic's from my paper-glass
And
Eulogise my steam and wit
Yet,I'm drunk
And deeply drunk wholly
By a might that mortify me so much
That I've become a slave
In the awe of my servitude

Now and then
Will I weep and wail terribly
Each morning,each noon,and each night
For the great demise of myself
And for an emancipation
From the perpetual counter-cells poetry
I'm drunk,and deeply drunk by poetry.

Deeply Drunk
©Historian E.Lexano

Welcome to your execution
You will not be exonerated
Your rights will not be debated
In this secret prison
This bay of pigs
But it’s not the pigs imprisoned
Corporate sponsored terrorism
Government created schism
Between the illusion of rights
And the truth
There will be no repeals
And when we are ready
Secret tribunals with no oversight
Will oversee your execution
Or worse your lifetime imprisonment

This is the story of the Central Park 5

Background.
5 young black boys who were picked up in Central Park 1989, after a white female jogger was ***** and left for dead. They were among over 30 youths in the park that night, they were also the youngest.

Antron McCray, Kevin Richardson, Yusef Salaam and Raymond Santana - All under the age of 16
And Korey Wise who was 16 at the time and who only went to the police station to keep his friend Yusef company.
Other than Corey and Yusef, they boys had never even seen each other before the night of their arrests.

The boys were coaxed into signing a Miranda card that waives their right to representation,
They were bullied and coerced during interrogation, into signing false statements, without their parents or any guardian present,
Corey, who remained in the station for Yusef, was later pulled in by detectives who needed someone to make the story fit. Suffering with both hearing and learning difficulties he was the perfect patsy for the police to force into a false confession.
The boys were all found guilty despite the lack of any DNA or physical evidence placing them at the scene, All but Corey were detained as juveniles for 5-10 years, whilst Corey was tried as an adult and sentenced to 15 years in an adult prison.
he spent the majority of his sentence in isolation to escape the beatings and abuse for a crime he didn’t commit.

Injustice -
When every bone in your body is screaming out your innocence,
yet the world has you on mute.
The hope that tortures you everyday, waiting for someone to hear you, believe you and
set you free.
How long before that hope fades, how long before the last glimmers of light extinguish , how long before you sink into the dark places that you can never fully come back from.

“Their story - My words”
Written with love and respect.

It’s the narrative that leads the pack,
Change that - and watch them stutter,
A verdict is more addictive than crack,
Whilst the truth melts away like butter.
The lies and scheming  - leading us screaming,
To a sentence we didn’t  deserve,
An innocent teen can ever be seen,
If justice has lost its nerve.

Politics reign over the rules of the game,
The scales have lost their balance,
Democracy has taken flight,
With  innocence in its talons,
It’s never about only us  in chains,
Not of prejudice and pride,
Our fathers and mothers,
Sisters and brothers,
Are imprisoned on the outside,

What have they created,
Other than hatred,
The voice of what’s right sounds so wrong
Our downfall is imminent,
They lock up the innocent,
The resistance to change is too strong.

There’s no adverts for convicted,
Our fate was predicted,
No Vacancies found for the lost,
They created us guilty,
It’s their hands that are filthy,
But they’ll never know the true cost.

So what are we supposed to do,
We’re free for sure - but free for who,
We can’t escape the stares or guilty whispers,
No matter where we’re always seen,
As guilty kids from that tragic scene,
We’re a haunted story played out in tainted pictures.

we can never be like you
We’ll always be last in the queue
We’ll never get to leave this social prison,
Victims of forced circumstance,
A twisted chance  of happenstance .
They took our chance away so none would listen,

What’s done is done - they’d made up their mind,
Irrelevant of what they’d find,
Once started they never turn back,
So our story is thus -
That when they see us,
It’s the narrative that leads the pack,
—————————-
Corey went up for parole several times, but part of the process is the verbal acceptance of your guilt for 5e sentenced being served. Corey wouldn’t confess to the crime he didn’t commit. After several rejected hearings Corey stopped going.
In 2002 Corey and the 4 boys were exonerated after the confession of a fellow inmate ‘Matias Reyes’ stated that he acted alone. DNA backed this up.
Corey was released and the 5 eventually won $41million in damages,
To this day the 5 men acknowledge that money can never give them what they lost.
Justice took them from themselves, now they must spend the rest of their lives being who they are.

Her supple and shapely silhouette rests submissively
as the luster upon the soft satin sheets arouses
sensual images of salaciousness beneath the sheen surface

My empty yet enduring eyes slowly engage the darkness
eager to embark upon the elusive lines energizing the elation
as a sojourning moon entices her to endear

Her excelling exuberance... exploited on exhalation
exposing her explicitly; exemplifying the excerpt
of an exonerated experience as the moonlight expires

Listening to “The Chieftains” again,
Their Long Black Veil CD: a gift to
Marijuana smokers. N'est-ce pas?
**** Jagger singing the title track,
A sweet, lugubrious ode to black widows.
Could there be such creatures?
Women you would **** for,
Offing your best friend for?
She had better be as good as it gets.
Could such women exist?
Beautiful & toxic;
Duplicitous, cunning,
*******-worthy.

******* | *** Risk and Prevention | ***/AIDS | CDC
https://www.cdc.gov/***/risk/oralsex.html has a low *** risk, but it is not zero. Learn ... Involves using the mouth to stimulate the ****** (*******). (www.ads/right/in/the/middle/of/*******/poem.com) $$Ka-Ching! Ka-Ching$$

**** would have licked her **** as
They led him up the scaffold steps,
She was a woman worth dying for, to be sure.

And Sinéad Marie Bernadette O'Connor?
Isn’t it time we forgave her?
So she shaved her head.
So she shredded the Pope’s photo on SNL.
He was, after all, the Polish Pope,
The one that kissed the ground
Whenever he got off an airplane.
How could you not love the guy?
Shot while riding in his Pope Mobile,
He later visited Mehmet Ali Ağca in prison,
Forgiving his would-be assassin face-to-face,
Exonerating the Bulgarian kreplach, for all
Special Victims Unit “especially heinous offenses” &
Proto-Islamic terror.
Surely, he could forgive the little Irish ****?

Can’t we? Leading by example?
I don’t know what you’d call it.
In any language: powerful.
Oh, Sinead, my sweet Sinead,
We miss your sweet sad dulcet tones.
Consider yourself exonerated.
Consider yourself free to be loved again.

And let’s not forget Tom Jones,
Come on ladies: you threw your sopping
Wet ******* to the stage for him.
His “Tennessee Waltz” breaking my heart,
Losing my wife to my best friend.
No wonder I shot the Sheriff.
Surprised I did not also shoot the Deputy.
And “The Chieftains” themselves,
Transporting us to the Coast of Malabar.
We are all Irish sailors
Infatuated, hopelessly enchanted by a
Swarthy Dravidian shiksa.

Today I live in a life that does fight,
in love, and hate, for a resolution;
what is humanity? Revolution
tinkers a vestige. “There people, the light!”
With a glance we seem glorious. The night
reveals a different image; the Sun
of Plato does set. Man’s transformation
has not yet stopped, despite all our massed might.

Like that Creature Shelly’s fear concocted
we, being not human, grapple today
with all our parts. Mankind is an ideal
that Creatures need. I, exonerated,
am not a human yet, and oh! do pray
the Creature that is me unlocks soul’s seal.

This giant tyrant Moloch, of epic proportions, ******* the life of everybody.
Galaxies crumble before it's feet.
The voice of hopes ****** from lungs, by a machine.
Anti heart/lung decree, fathomed, exonerated by release.

Singing, pleading, saying.

Come now breakdown and you'll cry,
Come now breakdown and you'll cry,
Come now breakdown and you'll cry,
Come now break down, break down.

no, longer the sun, a blacked out cosmos devoid of heat,
filled with sorrows where feeling meet.

A destroyed colossus, of a world, dead to the core,
Destroyed, employed by death and set to gore,
The eyes of saviors, one by one.
Set to resolve the travesties,
On free exploits of dreams,
And of beauty.

So come all ye faithful, joyful, and destructed,
Consumed, detached, disrupted,
And made up to believe, that we all have rights to succeed.

Amputated laced with vines, holding all that's left inside,
Of your minds erased, infused with lies,
Pressures meant to defeat, to defeat.

To defeat the cultivating mind, encapsulated behind closed eyes ****** in by,
The winds of black holes, called leaders,
And social servants guided by light, disguised by heavy eyes.

I hate the tenements.
The ***** consumed in vast amounts,
Vague visions not in pretty eyes,
But tortured ****** up howling nights.

We wont be destroyed, roaches of the earth, a life inside fires pyre,
No in distress, in detest, and duress.

This place must be cursed, but we won't be detained.
We are the dust of the earth, resurrected to destroy.

This souls is excrement.
This souls consumed.

To whom it may concern,

Today marks the one-year anniversary of my departure from the Navy. I have noticed a strong desire from the VA for transitional feedback. I feel that if you want to know what it is truly like to transition in the worst possible way I will share my story. Thanks for your time.

I would like to begin by telling you about my experience during service.

I joined the Navy in 2010 at age 27 to better support my growing family and wife of 5 years. To make this happen we had to put all our things in storage and rent out our house in Denver to convince the recruiters that we could financially support the shift into military life. Doing this was extremely difficult. The recruiters at the Aurora, Colorado office did very little to prepare me for joining. I lost my job shortly before gaining a contract at MEPS. Word had gotten around at work after months of me trying to join the Navy and my employer replaced me.

While taking care of a newborn and two year old son I broke my index toe and was delayed another 3 months before going to boot camp in August, even though it healed before I was originally supposed to leave in May. This forced us to move to Florida to stay with family until I could leave. This also was a huge stressor given that I was unemployed for almost 6 months. We sold our cars and cashed out our retirement funds to live with my in-laws. The recruiters at the Hollywood, Florida office were very helpful and made me feel much more ready. They took me to medical to ensure my toe was healed and trained me both physically and on the basics of military knowledge, which helped me, gain the rank of E-2 after boot camp. Boot camp was possibly the best part of my entire time in the Navy.

I attended sub training and eventually landed orders for Bremerton, Washington in March of 2011. This was great because most of our family was in NW Oregon. Adjusting to the crew of the USS Connecticut was very hard. I felt at age 28 that I was dealing with a bunch of boyish men who never learned how to be professional or kind. There were some exceptions but the culture was not healthy. I was assaulted and exposed to people’s violence and ****** aggression. I felt I had no voice and it was much like becoming a prisoner. As we settled into dry dock for the last 3 years of my first tour, I was glad to be home more.

I made efforts to be useful during this time; I did volunteer work, and aided the process of the ship’s overhaul. I was promoted to the rank of E-5 by three years in service. My career was going well but unfortunately going to dry dock is a career killer. I lacked many opportunities for training and felt fairly incapable of doing my job. This seemed to be the culture of most of the crew as well. My first E-7 was much different in the way he handled things than his replacement. The methods I used to complete tasks fell under scrutiny and my new E-7 took me to two NJP’s in 2014 and 2015, the last year I was on board. I felt singled out as many others had been doing things in the same ways. This was hard enough as I lost rank and had to go to shore duty with much less pay than expected. My wife had also had our third son by this time.

Each of our children were given a blanket diagnosis of autism by the child development specialist at Bremerton Naval Hospital, a TRICARE wonder. This sounded great to my wife who became more and more dependent on being a dependent, it opened the gates for a lot of free assistance. My wife did not have to work for ten years and this made her depressed and overweight, which trickled down to me and my morale at home or work.
Eventually my wife became more and more convinced of the need for the extra care of the ABA therapy and respite care provided by the Navy. She swore that she would leave me if I ever left the Navy. I figured she was just being dramatic. As she let herself go, we both fell into poor shape. I had a hard time with my weight and she became more mentally unstable. This home life greatly affected me in all aspects and did not help my work situation. The more appointments that my wife or boys had that I needed to help with, the more grief I got from my superiors. I feel this contributed to the ‘lesson’ I was taught, getting two NJP’s.

The doctors at the Naval Hospital also tried to treat my wife’s periodic depression with Prozac and other anti-anxiety medicine with little investigation. This only seemed to worsen her behavior in years to come. By 2018, we finally got a second opinion and found out that she has been Bipolar for years. The Prozac only made her even more manic and did little to help. She even left our Christian church and became Jewish, dragging our boys along into it. This unstable home situation greatly affected my work life in a negative way.

Shore duty in Bremerton was not much different as I was working on subs. The main difference was working with older retired Navy folks who were even more crass and horrible than the current enlisted co-workers I had worked with previously. I had a difficult time balancing the civilian work environment with the military pomp and circumstance that floated in the foreground. I gained the rank of E-5 back and left shore duty on great terms.
I was dreading going back to a sub as a Machinist Mate so I put in the work during shore duty to change jobs. I gained orders as a Logistics Specialist on subs, once again in Bremerton. I was to attend school in Mississippi for 6 weeks in 2018. At 35, I had just purchased a second home as we had lost our first home in Denver to a short sale because we could not afford to cover the rent and mortgage on military pay. My wife was also spending more than we could afford.

While in Mississippi, I gave a ride to my fellow/junior students and some of them later were caught with alcohol in the barracks. Because I had given them a ride earlier in the day, my name was brought into the story. Instead of taking my gesture of giving them a ride as a good deed, I was blamed for their choices that were made independently of me. I did not purchase alcohol or consume it. The NTTC command seemed to want a scandal and I went to a third NJP. This time I was not worried because I felt I had done nothing wrong. Things for me changed forever by the weeks and months I spent at NTTC in Meridian, Mississippi. I was treated like a monster and second class citizen and held captive from my family in Washington for 6 months.

I kept trying to fight the NJP but to no avail. Eventually I was recommended for a separation from service, as my appeals were denied. Looking back, I should have asked for a court martial because no proof is needed to punish someone during an NJP at the command level. This was even stated to me by one of the officers who sat at my separation board. It is all about what the O-6 feels like doing. Because I now had three NJP’s they could easily send me home but I opted to challenge this, but it only kept me there longer.

Gaining a JAG lawyer, I presented my case and was exonerated of the charges against me at NTTC. This unfortunately did not eliminate the third NJP from my record; it was just to make me feel better apparently because in the end they decided to separate me from service.

By this time, my family was in shambles. My wife who had just been diagnosed as Bipolar was not doing well and there was nothing I could do from so far away. I had no answer as to when I would even come home. Six months is a long time to be away for little or no reason. She could not understand the situation and felt I must have done something worse. It is as if she forgot who I was all of a sudden after 13 years of marriage. I could not wait to get home to start putting my life back together but I could not leave.
I was told I could not do TAPS or GPS in my home state of Washington. I had to take it all online with JKO as NTTC is limited on most things including GPS classes. JKO training for TAPS and GPS was a joke and it did not even work properly some of the time. I just wanted to get home.

I would have much rather transitioned in the place I would eventually be living and working. I was fine with getting out of the Navy by this time but my wife was not. Before I left Mississippi, I was struggling with money so bad that I had to borrow money from my father and take out a loan from Navy Federal just to stay afloat.

Unexpectedly, USAA insurance called me to ask about transitions and to my surprise, they were talking about divorce. My wife had called them and said we were separated. As I looked into her activities, I discovered she had been sleeping with some other sailor, ITS1 Jason Colbert at NCTAMS, Bangor Washington. I confronted him and his command but nothing was done about it. She now is still with him a year later and ITSCS Shinn apparently did not feel he should be given an NJP but that is not my problem anymore. I assumed my wife cheated and blew our money because of all the stress and that it was her condition that made her act out but even giving her the benefit of the doubt, she continued to stab me in the back by ignoring me and refusing to talk about things.
To make matters worse she filed for divorce and a restraining order on July 11th, so I had no place to return to once I left. I had to start gearing up for another legal battle right after another. The stress of this time caused me to lose 50lbs in only a couple months. I took up smoking as I was not allowed to leave base and fantasized about storming the gate to achieve suicide by police. Amazingly, I survived this difficult time away. I left NTTC on 27 July 2018 and had nothing to show for my eight years in service but regret.
I returned to a flurry of legal matters and had to sell my home and my ex-wife was able to gain primary custody of our boys as the court system is very biased towards women. I never once hit her or tried to hurt her but was treated like ****. I never wanted any of this and it makes me sick. Thankfully, friends from my old church took me in and let me stay for 6 months, close to rent free. Another church friend got me a job with a DOD contractor by September 1st. Even though I was taken care of, I felt the military did not one thing to aid in the process. In fact, they hindered my success. I did it all myself or with the help of my friends.

I now am happy to say that I met a neighbor of my church friends and we are now living together. She has taken care of me since most of my income now goes towards spousal support and child support. There is no way another person could have gone through this type of situation and come out of it as well as I did. This speaks to my character and probably all of the horrible situations I had to deal with in the military. I completely understand why vets become homeless and despondent. There has to be better ways to help vets. Family legal services would be a huge help to name one.

I would love to speak in more detail to another human being about what I can do to improve this from happening to someone else. I do not want to see more vague surveys and emails from the VA.

Thank You.

undated

Autumnal leaf air,
with the historical cut of princetonian guile
I walk toward the dull exonerated street
she looks heavenward; asks for a cigarillo
   tahiti bean
we never questioned our being,
        we just floated and
the capsicum katana slicing our
      corneas into julienne,
I tell her I can't, I quit,
never knowing quite what to do
smoking in june outside a wedding with the boys
she cuts me off, fast it's back to
thinking of  melting flower pots and broiled
   confectioner's sugar in my tiptoe mind-
   my toes are flat on the ground I walk with a gait,
          lifting my heels as if i myself seemed an aristocratic soul
                                                             I look up
                                                                  she has walked away
                                                                                              toward the
                                                                                                          candy store
to buy licorice

I'm Possible
I am possible because of God
I am possible because two forces or unacquainted love, was brought together to create greatness ME!
We are all possible and uniquely designed, Fat, tall, skinny, short, ugly, cute who are you to judge we are possibly the greatest thing God has ever created and powerful.
I’m possible and exonerated from the sins of my past in fact was told I was lazy, I'd amount to nothing, poor with no class……. Low self-esteem stupid giving up the ***.
It’s possible to change and be someone of good character, however, those demons never let you forget what you were & who and perhaps  what you did.
I’m possible, God changed me and I will admit I have my setbacks, I backslide but it’s possible to ask for forgiveness and move on.
We are all possible and anything is possible if you believe that your dreams and our goals are attainable.
Be possible be great
We are here because God made it possible.
Thinking out loud, written by Monica Chrisandtras Hines

Of mortall sinnes quhairof thou art not guilty
Slanderous tongues do falsely thee accuse:
Their accusations lyke their tongues are filthy:
They doe their tongues by lying so abuse:
Their tonges they vse the foolish to confuse:
Their forked tongues cannot sincerely pray:
Forgive, forgett and hope they one day chuse
With honest tonges righte honest wordes to say.
For verie sooth thogh damnable are they
So aren't we all, and were it not for grace
We all to Tartarus woulde wend our way
Nor euer any sinner sie Gods face.
The truth hath thee exonerated ere
The uglie lie coulde ****, for truth is faire.

I have been seeking solace
In fantasies
Of meeting my quietus
All my pleas to the maker
To be exonerated from the tyranny of drudgery
Fell to the wind

In the throes
Of self-abasement
I have been torn asunder
And rue haunts me
Like no ghost ever could

I don't quite know
Where this road
With no footmarks leads
Marching into the uncharted
All what my eyes perceive
Are visions of fractured glass
As I stare into the distance of a destiny painted in eerie hues.

Excommunicated
Only to be exonerated
on this road less traveled

All this knowledge
for what?
No one finds it to be important anyhow
No one cares to know

Where are all the conversationalists
Where has the brilliance gone?

I died when I thought of a future
I died when I welcomed hope
Hope killed the faith I had
Hope that the sun will never stop shining...
But instead I keep on shuning shadows leaning against my face.
I guess things were meant to be...hard though

I died the day I thought democracy was my token to success.
Democracy is a price paid for my brother,sister, mother and fathers blood.


We speak of the Styx river and forget about the Blood River.
I was told education is the key
This mysterious key comes at a price
This mysterious key is not really a key...
Instead of buying a key I have the blue print of making a key is what I have received!
I died while trying to build my future
My future killed me when I accepted it as my future.
Morbid isn't it!

Just an ordinary Zulu boy taken for a ride and now I have to live with it.
The torture of being in this cell presses on my mental  peace.
If you think this Is enough to put I on a comma.
I have worse news, because I ended up in a full-stop.

I'm starting to try and relate to I these lyrics "we found love in a hopeless place..."!
this high palace has fallen "remember those walls I built, baby they are tumbling down,they didn't even put up a fight, they didn't even make a sound..."!

We say he/she is music to my ears but forget to define the type of music you compare her to
Music can sadden one
Bring joy
Bring peace
And it can also mislead you to believing that you are not human...

I died the day I last saw the precious sun shine before my very eyes.
The night is still young we say...
Shooting stars have become rare and all I see is darkness!
Shooting star appear before me and grant me the wish I have to make: I wish that this darkness wou
d disappear,
I wish the night was older because it would mean the next sun shine is near.

Life would be restored
And this darkness Gone
My sorrows and bemoaned
Solitude destroyed
Love restored
Tears evaporated...
Happiness exonerated

August 11th

How am I so smart to endure my head's turns or locks inside a box.

With some worth forgetting.

My erecting
inessential to come, we've all waited.

The diet of cowards.

The invisible exercises in...

New Guinea
New York
Japan
France

Gaining

Exonerated

Senators.
Wives.
Daughters.


Over years or weeks.

A lot to hold in. I'm here.
A lot to hold on to.


A pint.
Three.

Jigger.


Fly into roses, Broken Wing Heartache.


Later on...


It is only one small amount of sweat.
A pool filling and shifting with each of my breast's breaths.

Now maybe I can tell myself why I care.

It is you.
A leg paler.
A chipped smile.
A new thing with nothing shamed.

Time for a movie.

A bright future.
Fuzzy dream.

Picture you and I waking.
Picture the naked light.

Witness your hollows.
Amount short.

Void transaction.

Pay once.

Enter the transaction void.



Two beers and one or just one shot of one fifty one later...


Do the days go by and call your name?


No they don't register a mood.

A look see.
A look see reveals all of these new found memories.

But our memory is low and hazy.


Baby.
Oh beautiful showmanship, tell me...

Of love.
Of youth.
Of my eyes.
My hair.

My unbroken bones.

My perfect *****.

My golden hair.

My tan.

My ability to hold and stay

not too warm or dry

not too cold or wet.


Your tomb.
Undisturbed.

And now I wait.

For you to warm.

Oh it is you.

Only you.


I will recite also.

In regrets of my open heart.

Strange that father holds his chest in staples later than I.


I spoke of you.

To blood ancient and blood to see.


You know.
Or you don't.


I.
Here in new clothes.


Waiting beside the museum.
Under the cold window.


For you to interfere.

As close as I am.


And then you apperceive.

Love.


You appear love.

Exasperated, exonerated, running all in between,
Despaired and impaired something not quite seen.
The sigh grows long and wide,
Worried at the worlds inquisitions.
Burning with a fire that is still hidden,
Bide the time or bite the bitten.
What face of fear conquers the weak?
Is it the worlds or the one who looks back from the mirror?
The question is answered by oneself,
I ask in order to know.
What makes you stop and what lets you go?

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/l8njruxa73yee9b0jzmhd/The-Ultimate-Unabridged-Guide-to-Esoteric-Working-English-2.docx?­rlkey=kunoar7ghpfkb7fjk5xkdgx95&st=i84ornny&dl=0


SPOKESHAVEN BRITSKAS OF GAMIDOLATRY THAT TRY  AND  DEFACE THE PRAGMATICS OF PENURY BY  THE WHITTAWERS OF THE SPEED RUN SATIATION OF ALL GLEBES OF CASEFIED ACRASIA IN  THE CHIMINAGE OF ALL GALLANT GLORIES OF GRUFF AND GUFF GUIGNOLS FOR JIGGERMASTS THAT TRY BREAKNECK CELERITY FOR COSTERMONGER INDIVIDUATION IN MUTUALISM THAT SCAFFOLDS AND BREVETS THE ACCLAIM OF MODERN PETTIFOGGERY DERANGED BY APISH MADCAP VENIREMEN OF EISOPTROMANIA BECOMING A PROMACHOS FOR CELERITY IN DEADSTOCK KILLCOWS OF INDUSTRIALIZED MUTUALISM FOR EIRENICONS SIDETRACKED BY THE SIDELIGHT OF NIMIETY IN THE GRANULAR APOTHEGMS OF APOTHEOSIS FORMATIVE IN THE DURATIVE DURAMEN OF DENEHOLES OF SALVATION FOR JIGGERMAST JACKSTAFFS THAT BEMOAN CELERITY BECAUSE THEY RATHERIPE THEMSELVES OUT OF THE INDUSTRIALIZED POLLARCHY POLLINATING MELLIFEROUS DISCORD IN PARASELENES OF MAINSAIL PARAVENTED LAXISM THE MAJORITARIAN CODSWALLOP OF RETINUES TO ANTEPONE GUARDED BY TAFFRAILS OF TRUTINATED  SQUAMATION SYRINGES OF SYRINX BURROW IN THE FABRIC OF TIME-HONORED PRINCELY CAESARAPROPISM WHICH IS A SCALDING  VINEGAROON WAITING FOR FORESIGHT TO CREEP UPON THE LARGESSE OF HINDSIGHT INTO  CIPPUSTURE OF PHUGOID DEGRINGOLADES ANTICIPATED BY THE ANTIPODES OF CURGLAFF AND THERE STEVEDORES OF JALEO WEIGHAGE FOR HANDSPIKES OF TURNVEREIN SPECIFICITY SPOKESHAVNE BY BRITSKAS OF RENGALL ATROCITY. WE CANVASS THE CATERCORNERED BREAKNECK DEMERITS OF TIMESPUN HARMONIZATION OF SYNCOPATIONS OF HETEROCHRONY ITSELF IN THE HAECCEITY OF IPSEITY DERANGED BY DELIRIFACIENT COBBLESTONE MACADAMIZATION OF MACARONIC BLUNGES OF ORTHOPTEROLOGY BECAUSE IN THE SUBSUMED COBALTIFEROUS SHALLOPS OF SCAPPLE IN SYNAPHEAS GUARDED BY JERBOAS OF ENTELECHY WHICH IN THIXOTROPY RATHER THAN THIGMOTAXIS ACCOST EVERY MALINGERING VESICLE FOR HOLY PATRONAGE THAT VEESES OF OLIVASTERS MIGHT SWELL TURGID WITH THE FUMIDUCTS OF AQUARIUM ARCTICIANS OF  THE HYPERBOREAN CHEVET OF NORTHERN LIGHTS SPECIFICITY IN THE GAMMONS AGAINST GAMINES THEMSELVES PARADED AROUND THE POLITY OF REFINED DEMASSIFICATION OF THE CRASSER ARTS OF POLLINATED PROMONTORIES OF DYSCHROA THAT OFTEN DESICCATE AND DESTROY VESTIGIAL CORTEGES THAT HOVER AROUND IN CORBELS AGAINST COQUICIDE TO ***** EMOLUMENTS TO TITANIC TIGERISM IN THE SWANK OF SWARF IMMISERATED BY THE TITANS OF MOUNTENANCE WHO BY CATALLACTICS OF WISEACRE AND WITTICISM IMBREVIATE ENTIRE INDUSTRIALIZED SOTERIOLOGIES AT THE ESCHATOLOGY OF CRIBBLED NEBBICH PARVENUS THAT SURROUND THE EMBATTLED RIGORS OF RHADAMANTHINE RAPACITY SUCH THAT THE WAINAGE OF WANIGANS THEMSELVES POWELLIZED BY THE FIRMAMENT WELDS OF WELLAWAY CENTRIPETAL ORBITS OF FASCINATION MIGHT MUSTER A PROCRUSTEAN ATTEMPT AT PANTAGREULIAN SUFFRAGETTES THAT BURROLE THE HYDRAHEADED ODYSSEYS THAT THE ORACULAR FATIDICAL FORESIGHT OF THE SELECT DENIZENS OF THE HEAPSTEAD IN THEIR HYPOGEIODY OF PRIVILEGE MIGHT MASTER A DEFENSE OF AUTARKY IN AUTOGNOSIS RATHER THAN AN OBROGATED INTERREGNUM OF OBSOLESCENT NEPIONIC OBSOLAGNIUM THAT EMPOWERS NEMBUTSUS AMONG THE SEDERUNTS OF NUMBATS TO FINALLY AVENGE THE ESBATS THAT  WITH CRAVEN VULPECULAR HAUNTS IN THEIR CRETIFIED CREANCERS OF ICEBLINK IN VERGLAS MIGHT SUPREMELY DECLARE THEIR NAZES OF SPRINGHARES A DISEASED EXTINCTION OF THE ARYAN RIGHTEOUSNESS OF EQUIPOISE ABOVE THE BRIMBORION STARLETS OF CLOCKWORK SNEEZING ALBATROSSES WANDERING LIKE MINSTRELS IN THE DARKEST GLOAMING TWILIGHT OF THE ABSOLUTION OF CONSCIENCE IN OBLATED NUTATION THAT FINALLY THE EXONERATED NYALAS THE BARNSTORM OF MAXIMALISM IN TERROR AND THE WIDDERSHANCY THEY ADVERTISE WITH CURMUDGEONS OF RADICALISM SWARFING BLUEPETERS MIGHT THE BRONZED ARRAIGNMENT OF THOSE THAT SEEK THE BARNACLES OF WISDOM AND FIDUCIARY TRUSTS OF MULIEBRITY LASSOED TO VIRILITY SUCH  THAT THE ESTEEM OF ZALKENGUR IS NEVER EFFACED FROM THE BEDROCK HARBINGERS THAT SCOWL WITH SWANK AND SWARTHY PRETENSE OF SPATHODEA BECOMING ENTRUSTED TO KALIMKARI RICHES OF KYMATOLOGY SYLABATIM ENUMERATED FOR EVERY PRECIOUS PEARL OF NACREOUS NAGORS OF WISDOM BEYOND WISECRACKING GIMCRACKS OF THE SUBTERFUGE OF GINNELS OF PARLOUS PARCHED THIRST THAT SIDEROGNOST NIMIETY CAN NEVER FULLY IMBREVIATE THE ALMAGEST ARBALESK FOR ABRAXAS IN SQUARSONS THAT ARE INTERMEDIATE IN TIME TO THE STULTIFICATION OF RAMSHACKLE BARNSTORMING BLUNGES OF  THE BLAINS THAT WITH LEGERDEMAIN AND PRESTIGITATION ENAMOR THE INAMORATAS OF A DESTINED WILLOWISH WOODSHEDDING VERDURE OF MURENGERS AND MURDERERS WHO BECOME SO IMMISERATED BY THE INDOCTRINATION OF WEGOTISM THAT THEY SUBSIDE INTO COMATOSE RANCORS OF TRUCKLING INSISTENCE ON TRUCULENT BARNSTORMS OF BARKENTINE BERGAMASK BALATRONS THAT SUBSUME THE GREATER PART OF NEBBICH ATROCITY BECAUSE OF T HE CRETACEOUS WAYS OF CETACEANS. THE TADPOLE MORALISM OF THE GLEBES OF CENTRIFUGE TO FISSILE NUCLEOTIDES OF CHRYSOPOEITICS MIGHT MARVEL AT THE DENOUEMENT OF  THE GREATEST LEAPS OF TAMARAWS FROM TAFFRAIL INDOLENCE IN THE MIRES OF THEIR QUAGMIRE QUISQUILOUS SEQUESTRATION OF BOTTLENECK GREATNESS FUNNELED INTO SYRINXES THAT JOGGLED WITH SVEDBERGS WAY BACK IN THE HEIGHT OF SCHWARMEREI AGAINST SCHMEGGEGY BECAUSE EVENTUALLY THE SARANGOUSTY OF ALL REVANCHE BECAME A CORDWAINER FOR THE ARTIFICE OF PRETENDED WARS MARAUDING IN PRETENSE BY PRETEXTS FOR READINESS TO ENGORGE ARMS BUDGETS AND SWALLOW WHOLE THE BOONSWOGGLE OF BOONDOCK CELERITY IN INTEMERATION SUCH THAT THE WAPENTAKE WASES OF BARNSTORM BECAME BARRULETS FOR THE TESTY DILATORY NATURE OF SPETCHES OF SPHACELATED SPEED AND THE STACKS OF ENORMITY INTO THE SQUAMATION OF THE STEVEDORES OF WEIGHAGE ON THE PRECIPICE OF BLACK MARKET RICHES FREEBOOTERS NAD WALLETEERS OF JENGADANGLE AND WHELKY MIGHT EVOLVE INTO BECAUSE OF RHADAMANTHINE TRUISMS OF THE TURNVEREIN OF HYPAETHRAL GENEROSITY CONFOUNDED BY ELECTORAL MAGNANIMITY IN THE DIVISION OF JORDANS AND JOUGS OF THE CANQUE OF JIMSWINGERS IN ABADDON STRUGGLING TO FIND WORK FOR MERCEDARY HEIGHTS OF HAUNTED PLUMAGE SQUARSONS PILLORY IN THE INIQUITY OF THE NIGHT BY BYWORDS FOR THEIR OWN HOBBLED NOMOGENY SUCH THAT THEIR TARADIDDLES ORBIT THE SWANK OF POLEMIC POLARIZATION THAT INFORMS THE PAST OF THE PRESENT TENSE AND BECOMES THE SWARF OF SALVATION AMONG RADICALIZED POLTROONS JAMBOREEING IN TRICOTEES THAT MOURN THE SCORIAS OF EMBATTLED CHUCKWALLAS TOO MUCH OF A SUMPTER SUNDOG SUNBITTERN ALBATROSS TO EVER MATCH IN PEERLESS ACUMENS AT THE HEIGHT OF HISTORICAL VANGUARDS VENTRAD IN ALL GALLOPING DELOPEMENT. STALWART EMBEZZLEMENTS OF PENURY MET BY EGESTUOUS VACUOUS LAXISMS OF PARALYZED PERJURIES AGAINST VENIREMEN WHO SCOWL WITH IMPERTINENCE AT THE CODSWALLOP OF MUGIENCE ERECTED BY NICCOLIC RUMCHUNDER MURENGER RUDENTURE THAT SPRINGHARES ARMED WITH NOILS INTRORSELY INTRODUCE IN ALL PETTIFOGGERS OF THEIR OWN GARBLED TREASONS THAT SPANK THE MONKEY IN PARALLAX BETWEEN GEOSELENIC ORBITS OF TRUSTWORTHY DISAGIO MIGHT THEY FIND THE SCRIVELLO AGAINST ONANISM AND ONOLATRY A SPECIALIZED GAMUT TRAVERSED BY THE HOBBLEDEHOY TATTERMEDALIONS THAT ARE SQUIREBELLS TO THE GILVARINGES OF GEITONOGNAMY FORMED IN THE GNOTOBIOLOGY OF OVERSIGHT IN THE MORAL PEDIGREE OF APOLAUSTIC ALGEDONIC BALANCES THAT SPORRANS OF THE GREATEST ABATJOUR HEISTS OF CENTURION CENTURIES MIGHT HOLD THE BEHEST OF ARMADAS OF TIMEWORN SUFFRAGE IN THE CASEMATE SPODIUM OF THE CLADOGENESIS OF JANGADAS FORMED BY THE JIGGERMASTS WHO KNOW WITH EXACT CERTAINTY IN THEIR BARRULETS OF FUSION SYNCOPATED EVERYWHERE IN LOOSE FRICTIONS WITH TERPSICHOREAN DANCES THAT SPANGLE THE PAST AND BESPECKLE THE BEBLUBBERED MAUDLIN ZALKENGUR OF THOSE WHOSE AUTOGNOSIS DEFILED THE NIDOLOGY THAT CREATED THE NIDOR OF CIVILIZED MALCONTENTS THAT ARE THE PROSTHESES OF FORESIGHT IN FROWARD RECAPITULATION REMEDYING THE CURTAILED BONNYCLABBER OF COAGULATION OF  RHEOLOGY AGAINST THE RHEOTAXIS OF ONOLATRY BECAUSE A BIPARTISAN ACCORDION ZEAL AND ZEST FOR JUBAL OF EMERGENT IMMERGENCE MIGHT ONE DAY SANCTIFY THE SACROSANCT PLAGIUMS OF NOTAPHILY AGAINST NOTITIA MIGHT THE ARMADAS OF THE FUTURE FEAR THE SARANGOUSTIES OF WAR BECAUSE OF THE SCHWERPUNKT OF THEIR INTENSIVE DURESS FORMED BY DURAMEN OF STRICKLE FOR SCAPPLES OF SALVATION OWNED BY SOVENANCE FOR THE GAULEITERS OF GLORY RENOWNED BY CAVERNILOQUYS OF JACANDA AND JABIRUS THAT CACHALOTS FORSIFAMILIATE. THE WINTERKILL OF HOBBLED HOBBLEDEHOYS THAT MARAUD IN TACITURN PLAGIUMS OF  THE PLAGATED NESCIENCE OF THE GODS THAT THEY FORMATIVELY BURROLE IN THEIR EARWIG ECPHRASIS AGAINST THE ELAPHURES OF SE AND YUAN BY YENTA BUSYBODIES THAT CODSWALLOP ANOINTS AS CASUALTIES THAT BARTONS OF JARVEY IN JASPERATED GNASHING GNOTOBIOLOGY OF GOMPHIASIS MIGHT SCHEDULE AS A DRUG OF REPUTE IN HACKNEYED HUCKSTERS WARPING WITH APOTHECARY FAMISHED FRACTIOUS FORMIDABLE FOISONS OF FRIGORIC FEWTERERS THAT GRADGRINDS DEVELOP WITH THEIR CNICNODES AGAINST THE PNYX OF THE GAMIDOLATRY OF UNZYGMOTIC LOSERS WHOSE SLYPH COMPLEXIONS AGAINST THEIR OWN SYNERGIES OF AUTHENTIC AUTOTELIC ATELIOSIS MIGHT THEY FINALLY OUTGROW THE TREMORS OF THEIR TRIBULATION BY RIVULATIONS THAT EMBATTLE ALLUVIONS TO BECOME AIGERS OF SWELLING HOLOCRYPTIC EMBOSSED ENLIGHTENMENT THAT FLOWS FROM PAGEBURNER RESONANCE THAT CURMUDGEONS FIND HARDER TO WEATHERBOARD BECAUSE THE SPURGEONS AND SURGEONS OF REDACTED TIME ARE AGAINST THE IAMATOLOGY OF MUTUAL SYNCOPATIONS OF HARBINGER INSISTENCE UPON THE CONCOURSE OF THE SUBLUNARY AND SUPERLUNARY PRESTIGE OF MASCONS AGAINST MASCARONS BECAUSE THE KATABOTHRONS BECOME SO WELL REFINED THAT  MANY SEEK ABRIDGED LIVES OF JOLLYBOAT SUCH THAT THEY CAN ARRAY THEMSELVES WITH JERBOAS WITHOUT FEAR OF DISCLOSURE. THE TRADUCED RADICALISM OF RHIZOGENIC NEKTON THAT GRAMPUS OF TRUCIDATION  DEFAMES BY SWARPOLLOCK OF ENORMITY WHICH IS STRICKLED INTO COVERT ABRAXAS OF PRESBYTERY SOCIETIES IS OFTEN THE MISSIVE UNIDENTIFIED CRYPTADIA THAT IS SOPORIFIC IN TORPOR OF TORPILLAGE IN THE CRUELEST MANNER OF EXECUTION IN RHADAMANTHINE HUES OF TZIGANOLOGY BECAUSE SOMETIMES A COSTEMONGER GROUNDLING SUBTERNATURAL SUBACTION AGAINST THE SWARF AND SHALLOP OF ENORMITIES OF TIME DECISIVE IN THEIR TENACITY OF GRASP SUCH THAT HACKNEYED LEVERAGE USHERS IN AN ENTOMBED SOLIDARITY WHERE REPARTEES COVVENGERS INVENTED DEFEATED BY BLARING BRONCHOS OF SERRATED SURNOMINAL NOMOGENY BY THE NOMOGRAPHY OF A SELF-PREDICTIVE MECHANISM OF TURBINATED TIMES THAT SEDIGITATED MATHEMATICISM IN MAXIMALISM BY PROXENETES OF THE BOYAU OF PERSEVERATION MIGHT CAVORT WITH SUBLIME CURRENCY SOCIETIES THAT BROOK THE BRONTEUMS OF FULGURANT RECALIBRATIONS OF REVALORIZED DISAGIO THAT SADLY IS THE CASUALTY OF THE EXCHEQUER OF A FORESIGHT ECONOMY OF SCOPE AIMED AT GROMATIC GROGNARDS THE SUFFRAGE OF BLEAK DAYS THAT THEY MIGHT PRIZE FUTURE ARTIFACTS FOR PRESENT ARTIFICE WHICH BECOMES A CAMBER OF THE CIVILIZED ENTROPY THAT RADICALIZES IN RECRUITMENT THE SCHMEGGEGY OF EVILDOERS THAT FIND THEMSELVES SO FINIFUGAL IN NIHILISM THAT THE CARP UPON THE HEGEMONY OF CAESARAPOROPISM REGISTERED BY GHAWAZIS OF HANDSPIKE FOR THE HAMARCHY OF THE TREASURED PROMONTORY OF THE PAST SCOFFLAWS SCOUNDRELS SURMOUNT WITH VISAGISTS OF KENSPECKEL YORDIM OF APIKOROS OLM AND OLIM REMIGATING THEIR OWN FANTASIAS BECAUSE OF THEIR FEAR OF A COMATOSE LETHARGY OF HEADLESS HORSEMEN DEMARCHES HIDDEN IN BARCAROLES OF CARNIFICINE YELMS FOR THE YARAKS EQUIPPED FOR YASHIKIS BECAUSE OF THE YESTERTEMPEST OF THEIR AGGRIEVED SYNERGY ATTEMPTS TO REFORM THE SIEGED SOCIETIES BENEAT THE BARATHRUM IN HOLOBENTHIC SOCKDOLAGERS AGAINST THE SAPROSTOMY OF FOUL-BREATHED BARTERS OF ALMAGEST HARMONIZATION. THE  ELAPHURE ELASTANE LAZARETTA OF PEOPLE WITH VENEREALLY DISEASED CONSCIENCES THAT SCAMPER AND SCOWL WITH TERMAGANTS OF REVELRY MIGHT THEY FIND THE DEFEAT OF THEIR SONDAGE BY SYBOTIC GARNISHED AND GARISH FRUITION BECOME A BRACKISH RESPITE OF HIDDEN LETHARGIES BULGING WITH TUMESCENT INTERRAMIFICATIONS THAT ARE BELEAGUERED BY THEIR SELACHOSTOMOUS FUNCTIONS OF THE GAPING PICARROONS DARING  THE KITTHOGE AND KIPPAGE OF KISTVAENS ERECTED TO ENTOMB THE PEOPLE OF THE BOOK FOREVER IN A RECURSIVE CYCLE OF RABID FOAMING SPUMID SPURIA THAT GALLOP LIKE BROCKFACED BRAZEN BRITSKAS FOR SPODOMANCY AGAINST THE WANCHANCY THAT HAS DESTROYED AND DESECRATED THE TEMPLES OF PURGATORY WITH MASSIVE ENCAUSTIC CASUALTIES OF CARESS AND LITURGIES OF CETES OF CETACEAN SPRINGALDS THAT BELONG AGAINST PELITIC WASTRELS THE COMBUVIROUS TIMES OF CERACEOUS GROWTH OF ECONOMIES OF SCOPE ENLARGED INTO BARGEMASTERS OF BERGAMASKS THAT ARE BRITTLE AT REDSHORT TOUCH AND BROOKED BY BLASTED SYMPHONIES OF BRICKBAT MANSION CHOCKABLOCK JAWBREAKERS OF MACROPICIDE PRIMARILY BECAUSE THEY ARE BESIEGED BY THE MELOPEPON AND MELODIKON OF MEHARIS OF PRAXEOLOGY BECAUSE OF RESONANCE AMONG GLEBES OF MALCONTENT ALWAYS BEREAVED OF HEGEMUNE PREROGATIVES THE FOSSORS OF OUR TIME EXCAVATE IN THEIR INDUSTRIALIZED MISSION TO HARVEST THE SPECIALIZATION OF ALL ARCHITECTONICS SUCH THAT THE SUBSTRATOSE DEMUR OF DEMASSIFICATION BECOMES ELOPED RATHER THAN ABSCONDED FROM PARTICIPLE CARTELS OF DEMEPHITIZATION IN GROWING FORESTS FOR AFFRAYERS AGAINST JUSTICE BECAUSE OF DIKEPHOBIA ENLISTED IN ENNOMIC CALCULATIONS WHICH PRESUPPOSES MOST UNSEELED PEOPLE STILL LIVE IN BUSHWAS OF BARYEICOIA BECAUSE THEY ARE PARTIALLY DIVERTED BY PAST PASTIMES OF FUTURE RECOMPENSE. THE SAGINATION SURETYSHIP OF CATALLACTICS WHICH OFTEN BORROWS ITS ACCLAIM FROM CORDWAINERS OF THE WAINAGE OF WANIGANS OF CERBERIC BRONTEUMS OF MASSIVE DEMASSIFIED PLASTER OF PARIS RECOMPENSE BY THE DERIVATIVE FUNCTIONS OF AN ECONOMY MAXIMALISMS DEFY BECAUSE OF IMPUDENT INSISTENCE ON INDECISIVE INSIDIOUS INSIDIATION OF INTEMERATION BY THOSE WHO SEEK THE BARMASTERS OF OUR ECONOMY TO OBTAIN A CARESSED CARRACK OF PANTOGRAPHS THAT FIND THE CASEMATE SCALE OF ENTROPY A GLARING REPAST OF FUTURE SOLIDARITIES OF GROWTH IN SOLIDARITY WITH ECONOMETRIC FUSIONS OF HYBRIDIZED DEMISANG MOONCALFS WHICH EVOLVE AT TACHYTELIC SPEEDS TO BECOME THE MASTERWORK OF WUNDERKIND PRODIGIES SIPHONING FROM GRAND LAVADEROS THEIR TURNVEREINS OF THE UTMOST TURMOIL IN GAUNTLETS OF RUBEFACTION SUCH THAT ALTERNATIVE DIPPOLDISMS WHICH SCOFFLAWS MASTER WITH SUCH GREAT SPREES OF IMBRUTED RELISH IN THE LAVISH OF PARADISE WHEN THEY BECOME INSENSATE BECAUSE OF SENSATIONALISM THE OPPORTUNE TIMES BECOME  THE CORBELS AGAINST COQUICIDE FOR THE MEGALOGRAPHY OF A NOSCOMIAL GROWTH OF SALVATION BY SPORRANS OF THE SOPORIFIC TORPOR GROWING BY MASSIVE DECREES AND DEGREES OF ENRICHMENT. (324.177 Characters per minute 46.91 Words Per Minute)
NOW THAT THE LACKADAY SAUNAS OF DETAIL IN THE PRESTIGIOUS HEMLOCK OF PNYXES DEFACED BY THE SYRINXES THAT DISCOVER ALL FOSSARIAN GLEBES AT THE PRECIPICE OF ALL MUGIENCE IN DISCOVERY OF THE WOONERF WE FIND THAT  GALLANT GROPES OF GROVELING TEAMSTERS BECOME A BRACKISH BRONTEUM FOR PLASTER OF PARIS ARTFORMS OF ARTIFICE UPON GAULEITERS OF SUBTERFUGE BECAUSE THEY BRANK AND BRACKLE WITH THE FIZZGIGS OF SEMPIRVERENT OPTIMIZATION OF FUCOID CONSPUED CONNUMERATION OF THE CONTENEMENT OF MARTINGALE BECAUSE OFTEN THE LOUD POSTCENNIUM WHICH IS ESTABLISHED BY THE DUGONG OF THE ELASTANE WE SEE THAT THE GROWTH OF VIRTUALASIS IN HEAD MOVIE GRANDEUR DECIDES THE DECISIVE GAUNTLET OF ALL TRAULISMS BENEATH TRUCIDATION BECAUSE TOO MANY PINGUEFIED RALTENTIONS SWARMING WITH PILLORIES OF HOLOCRYPTIC ARBALESK APOTHECARIES OF PAST CENTURIES OF CHORIZODONTS BECOMING MEGACERINE PRIMARILY BECAUSE OF MERCEDARY WAGES WE FORESEE A GROWTH IN ECONOMIES THAT LEVERAGE THAT PRAGMATIC LURCH OF CLAMBER RECIPIANGLES OF DESULTORY COMBUSTIBLE GLORY FIND CONFUSION IN CONFOUNDING CONFLAGRATIONS BECAUSE THE HUMDINGERS OF WHITTAWERS AND THE PRACTICAL NUGAMENTS THAT FORM THE INCHOATE EMBODIMENT OF ALL TREMBLORS AND TEMBLORS OF JOGGLING JOLLYBOAT JOLTERHEADS OF YOUTHQUAKES OF KALAMKARI IN THE MOST ELITE WAINAGE OF STRADOMETRICAL STRIDULATION GUARDS THE NEUTROSOPHY OF EMERGENT AGES SUCH THAT WILD WIELDLESS MANAGERS OF VERDERERS OF NOVANTIQUE SIMMER IN SAUTED RECAPITULATION BECOMING HARVESTED IN NOVANTIQUE FOR FORMIDABLE PROWESS TO CARESS THE LONGEVITY OF COSSETED BERGAMASKS THAT BELONG TO THE AGGIORNAMENTO OF TIME. AMEN.
(46.6 Words Per Minute 319.2 Characters Per Minute)

Please show me you understand,
You don't have to agree or allow.
Just nod and I will be exonerated.

Freed from this self imposed cage.
Your outstretched hand broke, bars, boundaries, walls and fences.
A feather kiss calmed the tsunami.

It could never be fifty fifty, with you and I,
ninety nine and one, for you always will be.
Just a strand of your essence would power my battery for life.

I live just to see you comfortable.
I cannot shield you from harm or hurt.
They wont come from my hand, heart or mouth.

But with my hand I will pick you up.
Will my heart I will love you back on your feet
My mouth will only sing lullaby's and praises.

Anything less would be cheap,
untrue and disposable.
Anything less than everything wouldn't be worthy.

Exonerated for a face no mother could love
Misconceptions and interjections of societies
misguided approach to beauty
Appearance is more than the physicalities
or the emotional travesties it causes
None of whom can ignore the plush bodies
in magazines or the hours spent looking
at hour glasses on silver screens
Smiles which gleam whilst those without
dentistry miss out on destiny
It’s not what you say, it’s what is projected
albeit subjective your standards are selective
Pavement crawlers to body bags, a failure to
understand grace runs deeper than
the vanity of man.

Corporations meaning to incorporate
From what I've seen they extort and hate
The alogarks are exonerated
Such reprimands tolerated
Hard workers unappreciated
Women stripped of the rights we were given 50 years ago.
I feel hate towards a false hero.
While all politicians fake
A convolution that never wakes
An understanding  that perpetuates
A truth alluding  hate
A profound cause for arms
An army disarmed
I reserve  my intentions  for time of need
While the world unfolds if rivalries.

SURAH 910
The psittacists of the malaxage of malabathrum attempts at covvengerized metensomatosis defile the very flombricks of the plasmamium cracking at the unseemly phememes of specious paraselenic polkamania at the pelargic wricks of the wroth and wrox of yeltings denouncing the meroscopic moulins of freggetted ragtagger paynimry metapolitical wegotism of parietal paroxytone pteropine qwartion designed indelibly in the maltelasse of the repined pantography against the megistothermic kenomanicaphobia of the dutiful demarche from the porriginous portfire that crassifies every polder into periblebses of volcanic tirades of mofette because of the mows of moya recriminated around circumducted poikilothermic vindictivolence because the reremouches of guarded sotissiers flaunting their praxinoscopic perenendoscopic maltsters of privvy theatromania might vauntlay themselves among the vanguard for the wirewoven fabric never of mendaciloquent fabrications of prosopographilalia always done in ventose conceit of megalomaniacal desperation by the earwigs of dikephobia that they might taste the torment of the day they are denied of their proper brevets of flargentum and instead reasted upon the stew of the murengers of yeltings that bratingly reject frikmag upon prima facie cogitabund and meditabund fanciful whimsy in the anemocracy that agrunters of their prisoptometers of recalcitrance they might taste the stain of their acrimony rather than the recidivism of mugient morigeration that storges never an enmity and always a tympany of alveolate harmonization of the synectic broods of eutrapely. In the kaleidophones of the komatik herculean viragos of webster heroism despite their foisted epigones of pseudogyny in attempts at dethroning maritodespotic phallocracy wirewoven into the resofincular audacity of the chomage of the chirked swirk of forswinked frustraneous endeavors lewdly cadging and roodging the hypesters of wegotist flargentum in ergotall chantage wormcast beyond the woonerf of the rackrent Rabelaisian ebriection of the wretchocks of wayspayed dormitage redundant in its canter of verisimilitude in the echopraxia of the enviable by the envied that they might understand that the yelting murengers of murage belong in sacrosanct harmony with the eutrapely never of wallfish walleteers domineered by the lability of their wambling stature jengadangled upon the precipice of astroud asterongue notoriety expounded by the plasmamium of recoil and the covvengers of modest modicum earned by the machinules of their coerced decorum that the nanciful prance of the cakewalk of prurience might be recorded by the Master Record of Al-Muhaymin as the subterfuge of pralltriller tropoclastic obrogation of existent statute bowdlerized by the ptochony of the puericulture of dormant wayspayers obsessed with viraginous wesperm because of herculean deficits in retchination because of cynosures of cyesolagnia of tympany that might become a retched mistetch of the serendipity of melodikon that despises the plankwise pillory of wertfrei in the mangonel of those desperate to find a mittimus against the plenipotentiary by the jengadangle of aleatory finitism in prescriptivists who flout based on their cecutiency of immoralism that the gladiatorial edge and brazen zugzwang might backfire in enormities upon the jemadar of the serpentine slither of hederaceous pointillism in Freudian surrealism of the mascon of pretended indemnity personified by the mongery of the hipped hobohemia of jerboas incapable of jiboya that fewer mugient hypertrophies of exaggerated parabolaster find findrouement in their recalcitrance rather than their mountenance and that their bluepomp redstrall might stumble in fliction rather than in rancid frinteran scams of jazzbos of emasculated pandora flummoxed by a bewildered scorn of sentinel machinules exasperated of the ploys of kakistocracy. The registry of the moffets of kalabothron that ingeminates refines corrugates and snatches never from the perjury of eidolon the perfectable mantissa of the soluble antipangamists of an age punctuated by pantography lassoed by the servile toadies of reremouches of redstrall demeaning in their every demarcation of mendacity done in wapenshaw and wapentake of the weighage of their perpended meldometers of radical incarceration because of phlogistons tone deaf to phocine regius regalia that they might find the touching spectacle of the calcimine yeltings a purpresture hortatory and peremptory enough to derail their attempted commenefaction of the filagersion of the flombricks of regurgitated efforts at pelargic hebephrenia obtained by polders of gid flajousting their way into the coddles of portentous infamy rather than insuperable fame of Parousia. We maraud in the whiggarchy of the wrepolis of one verberating with plangorous sempiternal evasion of pointed porbeagle mantissa deprived of the isonomy of the raltention of the halldorn ktenology rather than kymatology of supersensible moments etched into the fabric of indelible eternity that any perceptible hallswallop is already a hikkle and hibble of obganiation that endangers the pugient popocracy of the lackadays among the popjoys of the campanile febrile aristocratic latitude of presidential hearth outnumbering by the qualms of peremptory logodaedaly that never a plumbism encounters an elitism and never a plumeopicean piscifauna descends into the heyday of moffets of maidan madness in the viduity of the world from certain cynosure in sinecures of madefaction rather than exclusivity in the prescriptivism of a physicalist nihilism attempted by the morigeration of many a covvenger obsessed with wricks and suborned by wrox to become tumbleweeds that tritefully in platitude always denature the mesozeugmas of the topgallant asseveration of latitude rather than a perpended valetudinarianism. The nauclatic barnstorm of all potagers of the outmantled vicissitude of the echopraxia of pralltrillers of the rindkline of outmoded sondage in the sennet of the pertinacity of wegotists marauding against their paraselenic critics that always try to vauntlay because of moya that has mowed down entire generations of evergreen groundlings of the geotaxis of photophiles that spar against the rectiserial subaltern mountenance of the mottle of scaramouch metapolitics in retrenchment and retreat because of the sempiternal flabbergast of gentrified wroth and wrox of waldflutes that bemoan the hikkle of the rhadamanthine jumboism of misocleres of minatory subsultus in contrivance only perceptible to the thrombosis of cacidrosis that the petcocks and cockshies of elitism spurn with spindrifts of brinkmanship of the galvanized pseudogyny of bluestocking smardagine attempts to swallow the Earth whole by the singularity of the procrustean never the walleteer of the wallfish of tralleyripped jawholes of potamology that chirk their way about Simple Jack but never preternatural Julian because the asterongue meteoric meteromancy of the pretense of spurious spumid thrombosis calcimined by yeltings of wallbaggers rather than the hinderbaggle of recadency rectiserial in its gallywow prestige of polders fulminating in every exasperation to riotously remonstrate against paragons rather than congregate around flippant frivverscrabbles of frinteran ill-humor that never use proper cephaligation of morphaen cacidrosis waged upon the impavid intertesselation of the flombricks of glib triage foisted above rhotacism of the rhubarb crassified by the detritus of the alchemy of waldgraves attempting to resort to carnaptious deeds of vauntlay in villainy that spawn the retched errundle of the desultory tatamae of the vetust brocrawler fighting against the coalized recalcitrance of the paltripolitan pantapolis desperately yeuking in its intorted incivisms of inurbanity to posterize the cackling humdingers that shake entire centuries with qualms rather than traumatize with the yikkers of flashy torpindage attempting torpillage against the assailants of the plagated murenders that berate the chatoyant yeltings for their brayed assault against the chamois belonging originally to backwater champlaignes that asseverate their power dynamics with psychodynamic mesozeugma in the age of messianism despite the pelargic wegotists paraded in their verdure of foothot temerity too tempestive to survive the carracks and carnet of pantographs that become the mignons of the pantomnesia of the carousel of trumpery among the oppositive heelers that demand never a vindictivolence of moffets but always lapidate the vandykes of rhipidate and rhizogenic mottles of subversive metastrophe because of metapolitical allegiance to portfires of the tocsins of pretended alarmism rather than kenomanicaphobic brilliance sheening prefulgent in the ruffianized pullulation that berates itself for its pangamys of faltering panmixia and thereby corrugates itself upon the yestertempest of the attempts at youthquake that shatter the younkers of crotaline elitism sheepish of its own finifugal respite in podobromhydrosis created by the madefaction of humorous minimasque jannock janizary jokes that serenade for the gallivant of glory in the hidden thickets of plumage and plucky Herculean heroism against the hednons of attempted subversion that alluvions of hikkle and bilkey by machinules of masterate liturgy might always insulate from the purpresture of gerdoying gammerstang fulgurant percutient patibulary wormcasts deriding wertfrei and belonging to the maskirovka of the worsification of militarized envy seeking casualty where there is always repose and violence where there is always a sodality united for peaceful but precarious paciferation that averts the jimswingers of the jiboya of the jobbery of the jentacular threats of a braying menace of wrothing indolence centrobaric to all singularity and never consequent to any bleat of the pretense of temerity because of the viscidity never of a vaporetto of vacuefied stupefaction but always a beatific harmony of the serendipity of wordsmiths against the regal taunts of the skrimch of Potemkin hatred. We stagger in an astounding davering movement where delitescence is still a guarded murage of the wallbaggers that insulate the aristocracy from the thickets of the social mobility of macropicide against the yares of logodaedaly that vaunt God rather than vauntlay their enemies who dare with radical subversion in wretchocks of plumbism to deracinate the caterwauls of galeanthropy from their gradate punctatim attempts to create a serrated barrier of machairodont flarmeys of flargentum among the dense thickets of the yarzheit of apikoros giaours that fly-by-night in the boschveldt of borascos demanding a collective dementia in exchange for the machinules of radical harpricks bemoaned by the madefaction of gallantries of topgallant gambols rather than gambles with the safety and security of the broader world widely protected by never a vindictive word or never a sempervirent gambit for monopolylogues long ago assized and quantulated by putchers of gammon that they might perish in their assailed ratification of draconian flakes flapping their albatross wings in the deipotent glory of decrassification rather than galvanic attempts to revive the revenants of the heyday of gladiatorial spectacle to the demise of the wrox rather than the porcellanous attempts by coverthrow to demean or ratchet a grumbling mumpsimus of the fakest mittimus ever devised by the jemara of the moorganization of time for a peaceful coryphaeus to exhibit his magisterial eloquence on the platform of the barnstorm of eleutheropomania that always prattles in favor of the favor of delitescent mantissa and the guarded larithmics that corrugate in the favor of antipangamy that belongs to the hypestorm of never a capias but always an exonerated eutrapely of grandeur and hauteur without a hint of pompous chatoyant trucidation of lesser enemies and brittle redshort opportunism of delirifacient demur that becomes insulated from its own refrains that it provides impetus for liberation than a succinct meldometer of meleagrine and rhadamanthine physiognomancy that is too brazen in its weatherboards of wrathcheque to quivver in anything but the guarded tropism of those who understand the psychodynamic valor of exhibitionism in a jocular manner of regelation that the calcifuges never panic and the bonanzas never shrink in their blettonism of world triage for peaceful beatification that beams with the light of the prefulgent sun rather than heliofugal demiurges of recidivism potentiated by the aggravated grimace of gerdoying. The belletrist of the sondage of the morescos that vaunted themselves among the privileged because of the proband of forestalled generations of raillery rather than the rindstretch of the kobold subterfuge of armigerous enmity mobilized only in petty medicasters of iatramelia that the true enormity of congealed revalorization becomes that supernal and superlative beacon that prefigures all of destiny by the kymatology of the regnant resofincular retrocognitions of the phememes of intuitive plasmamium never paltry in paltripolitan values of a tottering demiurge that might be masticated in its semese because the density of the timocracy withstands all mettle and scores all veracity by its demarches for world harmony rather than its septiverous divisions of sciamachy waged against potentates because the giaours despise the valor of the monotroch of the rickety wroth of punctatim hortoriginality that never bleats or blemishes in histrionics but always values the foresight of the masterates to asseverate their hegemony rather than their servitude to the manifesto of the most radicalized epithets and rhubarbs of ruffianized faffle of the fangasts of the wormcast of the pollarchy becoming waterish in its insipid gambits to bowdlerize the world of polymathy because a polyhistor too intrepid to tread lightly and too kind to domineer with imperium might be counted not as a noxious nuisance of lability of phlogiston but always a zealous courtier of a renewal of generations for chrestomathy and the galvanization of religious zeal against the totemic racism of a tottering balkanization or the peregral attempts of the isorropic to imitate the ivoride of jealousy because of jalousie. May God bless our troops and insulate us from all disaster and may God provide the beneficent path for the multanimous love of fidelity of the phocine phons of kaleidophones of the miraculous kith of a loving matriotic nation united by the fervor of patriotism to serenade the world with beatific love rather than inseminate a radicalized potentiation of the insipid paraselenic violence of a world that should rollick and maffick in celebration of promethean insights rather than chirk a draconian destiny. Amen

Met you first at the edge of town
Where parallel lives converge
Too close to see the reality
Too close to see the merge
Entrained & double stranded
Twice abandoned
Forged in fire
Etched in stone,
Dressed in a serious tone

Divide:
The divine definition
Served over coffee, wine, and repetition
The overhead sign flashed
Standby Alert

Never one to heed the warning
You were looking straight ahead
On an outward bound,
Dopplered red
Journey

The local doesn’t stop there anymore.

The stranger that you were seeing
Detached from all-mighty reason
Feeling tracts of the weatherworn
Like leather shorn
Shattered by resistance  
Battered by time and insistence
A legacy of perfectionism
Bestowed on you by dogmatism
Stirred by criticism
Seen through a prism schism
From standing on your head
Judging yourself upside down
Perspective’s reflection
Ism prison
Makes perfect sense
A hole in groundism


Storied teller without a soundism
Rhythm or such
Downtown, cafed, solitary lunch bunch
Saying no to this, no to that
So comfortable
When there’s something to defend
And there always something to defend

The exonerated accused of insanity
Righteous indignation abomination nation
To the guilty acquitted by reason of sanity
For strategizing one side
Side Lies
Channel changing and codified


The chips are played and unafraid
Free-floating on a reclining cloud
Hovering above the unavowed
Unbuckled crowd
Without blame or explanation


The hand that binds, rewinds
Will eventually set you free


The tracks began to dance
A lazy sideways glance
Carving a figure eight
Keeping time
With a measured gate
Pausing as they crossed
Hand over hand
In infinity seeing speck
An aspect
Dancing on ice
They spin
So without
So within
Pirouette going around and around
Everyone stepped aside
Later they all took a side

“Never saw it coming.

You know, he never should have left.

Yes but, how do you know it was him?

I heard she was bereft.”

The moment was tenuous
Always slipping from grasp
Always a handout for help
Always a mask
The mask it
Fell from where it was hanging and
Broke in half              
You were off autopilot
Without a staff


Yes, to whatever you say
I’m that way
You must first introduce yourself
Forgive yourself
For all the isms’
They were never ever you
The isms aren’t all bad
They just embody the essence
Of all that is had.