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Raj Arumugam Oct 2014
Session 1
Greet people you meet;
smile and give 'em a Presidential wave




Session 2
Facilitator:
What  happened to you
Participant Jones?
Would you care to tell everyone?


Participant Jones:
This man at the mall
stepped up to me and punched me
Cause, he said, I was smiling at his woman


Facilitator:
Be undeterred, O participant Jones
Be persistent - practise positive behaviour


Session 3
Facilitator:
What's with that bandage on your head
O participant Jones?
Would you care to tell everyone?


Participant Jones:
That's where my wife's ladle landed
O positive Facilitator -
for my wife thinks I'm trying to get fresh
with the women in the neighbourhood
with my exuberant smiles and hand waves


Facilitator:
Have no regrets, practise in earnest;
the broad smile wins all hearts



Session  4**
Participant Jones did not attend;
has not been heard from since Session 3
Briar Rose Dec 2013
The facilitator said,
Go home and write a page tonight
And let that page come out of you
Then it will be true.
Well,
I live in a house
Like so many others
I have two parents,
An older brother,
And four dogs.
Fifteen going on sixteen,
I am more or less your average sophomore.
I like to read things that aren’t too long,
But just short enough to feed my head.
I like to feed my head with new things,
Because otherwise life is a meaningless circle.
I have 3 life plans
One for if I am in poverty,
One for if I am middle class,
And one for if I am rich.
This way I will never be unhappy
At least due to money.
Perpetual unhappiness and stagnation is my greatest fear.
And to run in a meaningless, monotonous circle.
I will do every thing that makes me feel alive
And helps me embrace my role in the context of the whole.
Because I have one.
And so do you,
Mrs. Sarna.
As does everyone.
It is important to note that I am an atheist.
Not even "God" can judge me.
I can barely even judge me ,
“You shall love your crooked neighbor with your crooked heart.”
And that,
Facilitator,
Is the quote I impart with you,
Because ambiguity is a vice of mine.
my poem for my english class written in the style of "Theme for English 1B" by langston hughes
Raj Arumugam Feb 2012
out goes
software developer
web designer
computer ****
mercahndise managers

vacancies now:
virtchandise manager
cloud transformation officers
outcome aggregator
data evangelist
sensemaking analyst
sales ninja
digital dynamo
happiness advocate
online community facilitator
web funster


*you ready?
poem based on article from "The Age" online, 25 Feb 2012
SassyJ Sep 2016
Chaotic systems*
Disabled stems
Controlled streams
Dash in seams

Work ain't progress
It's a misused regress
Full of regrets
The greatest dissolution
No vision, just revisions
The mission of bureaucracy
Hypocrisy and autocratic casts
Top cats bumper weighty bonuses
Outclassed in beer bellies
Slashed in pompous waistcoats
What a waste on the coast?

I am not afraid to tell you, "I ain't a ******* robot"
I am not a machine of production and rotations
I am not afraid to tell you, "Go **** your *****"
Give me time to be creative, innovative and autonomous

Chaotic systems*
Disabled stems
Controlled streams
Dash in seams

Be an example, model the sample
Let the leader lead the leaders
Let the leader be the servant
An active weaver of the basket
To hold with the strongest straws
In rows and crows, clinging to all
A negotiator of the common people
A facilitator in times of conflict
Let the worker be dedicated
Passionate, triumphant and trial-led
But the case is, all are in it for the money

I am not afraid to tell capitalists, "Give workers their rights"
I am not a ******* charity mate! Share the faked matte!
I am not afraid to tell you, "Stick it up on your ***!"
**Give me time to be creative, innovative and autonomous
Work frustrations..... systems that just don't work or promote creativity...... they just stir chaos.
Dear son I am dying
So you may live!
I couldn't pay for your son's school fees,
The deepawali sweets and crackers
And your wife's saree,
Nor could I buy you the500cc
Enfield Bullet.I had promised.
My revised pension hasn't yet come.
They have told me to wait,
But I know you can't.
Deepawali crackers are costlier this year
With the boycott of Chinese goods
A big price for patriotism.
My friends tell me that if I die
They will turn me
Into a symbol,
Something very big and important.
Somewhere elections are just round the corner,
There will be a statue
And money and job for you.
They say.
I must die for you to live.
I have lived my life.
Sorry son, I had much to say
But they tell me to hurry.
The facilitator has another appointment to keep
If only I could go with a bullet in my heart
And a few pakis at my feet
And not a sip from the hemlock tree!
Do not gamble with the money you get,
This Deepawali, pay Dipu's fees,
Buy a plot of land,
Take mother to Haridwar.
And yes, get the money and the job
Immediately after I die,  least they forget.
They will promise the world.
They will come, don't worry, make them pay,
Insects always do when there is light.

They call me

I must go

You live..
Notes (optional)
Eryri Sep 2018
Plastic fantastic
Sits in my wallet
Waiting for flirtatious contactless action.

My personal details emanating constantly
From my ruminating flexible friend,
From my ruminating flexible foe.

Never ending debt
Leaves me a slave to a monetary master
Piling on the debt faster and faster.

Battered worn leather houses the card
That screams a constant binary plea,
Begging to be heard by an electric mate.

I need to silence this traitor
- This debt facilitator -
But I'm hooked on its fleeting ability to buy me that which I do not need.

My card constantly screams my personal data,
Broadcasting 1s and 0s endlessly,
Betraying and exploiting me through ruthless efficient binary.
Aslam M Jul 2018
The Facilitators  also need Facilitation
To facilitate the ones ....
Who  cannot be facilitated ...
In order to facilitate more ..
Random Thought as I am into facilitation of Engineering Students but get stuck at times.
Musings
shapeshift
into intricate words
with a mind of their own
that fall into place
and make beautiful songs
which travel along
Continents
Consciousness
Vibrations and Waves
free as the birds
once alight,
resonate
with bodies and souls. 
Trusting the journey
is a curious adventure,
not a God complex,
a Writer is
but a facilitator,
allowing our innermost
turn into artwork,
delicate necklace
that hangs ‘round the throat.
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
The Great Search
Not too far lies the majestic Danube it cuts through the black forest possibly its cold winter wind was
Making a strong noise out side he set at the work bench his metal tools were hanging on the wall the
Great fire place was doing a good impression of a small fury the warmth pushed against the cold maybe
This was the impetuous that caused him to wonder what if there was a way to make a key that would
Open the door for all mankind to know happiness and total fulfillment it would have to be the most well
Crafted and the most thought out work of his life with human hands an accomplishment of staggering
Proportions he was accomplished in all manner of gold workings so that would be the direction to start
In it would take the very essence of mystery to delve into the dark heart of man then as it were find an
Acceptable antidote then it would have to be of the purist quality nothing less would do otherwise the
First move would bring catastrophe contamination would be complete project ends in disaster should it
Conform to the shape of the heart the core and seat of power the idea not to mimic but to gain
Entrance The most logical approach it would have to harness light but diffuse it to make it harmless
Somehow draw lighting down but take a way it over riding power stillness with its opposite present
Music has much to offer plenty of action but with harmonious smoothness that would soothe and move
To great Depths avoiding the pointed abrasive areas making joy to flow richly uninhibited you would be
Able to control that which is unpredictable and without warning flashes of rage bringing disastrous
Results it would have to contain the characteristics of the very wind that is not measureless as it seems
It is weighed held in check ordered movements bring the wealth of rain on what we be otherwise barren
Fields by now his mind was both enthralled and reeling with this magnitude he finally concluded
Impossible forget it except the truth and live with failure but truth had a resonating force that made
Him think long and hard in the fourteen hundreds at best progress was in a fragile state but truth
Continued to dance in his fevered mind and in the distance church bells started to ring his contrary
Nature leapt to a standing position everything he was dreaming and fretting about already existed he just
Needed to be its facilitator it would be the earth’s first mass engine a revolution was rapidly nearing
Birth all those requirements for such a key was not just a fantasy it is found from Genesis to Revelation
Gutenberg’s printing press would make it possible for all people to digest the only written words that
Can change lives make you a citizen of another kingdom while you are still earth bound
For Keith, that man mountain of towering spirit,
That weaver of emotion, standing proud in his truth.
I wish to be like you;
An artist of the heart, of genuine expression,
A facilitator of truth,
A provider of safety,
Like a harbor for small ships caught in a storm.
You offer a home to those who have none,
A space of healing wrapped in acceptance and silence,
An inn to rest for the night,
So we may continue our journey refreshed.

But how did you find this goodness?
Was it given to you as a gift at birth?
No.
You wrestled it from your soul
With awareness, unflinching courage and tears.
Keith is awesome, the poem says it all.
Dr Zik Mar 2015
.                                                                ­      O' My Mother! I pray for you
                                                             ­          O' My Mother! You pray for me
You used to be worry about me and that made you weakened
You used to be worry about me for my pleasure and happiness
I was feeble at that time but I think that
Might that I had been the facilitator to remove your woes and regrets
Might that I had fulfilled your desires when you had
Might that I had given you bliss
I’m fear of your anger, O’ my mother.
I always pray for your pleasure
                                                                ­       O' My Mother! I pray for you
                                                             ­          O' My Mother! You pray for me
Now! I am a young one but
I often used to think
Your poise soul, services and honor are conferred to live at highest level that
World dare not to give any reward so there is no any reward of your fidelities
So there is no any reward of your prayers for me
My fidelities are for you for your eternal bliss and pleasure
My prayers are for you for your eternal bliss and pleasure
.                                                       ­         ­      O' My Mother! I pray for you
                                                             ­          O' My Mother! You pray for me
I’m result of your prayers! and I think so!
I’m result of your fidelities! and I think so!
If I could able to leave facilities of the everyday life
As these are mortal
So
I wish I could break these idols
The stars which were tearing and falling ones for your sake
I observed them all on my eye shades when I recalled you
                                                             ­          O' My Mother! I pray for you
                                                             ­          O' My Mother! You pray for me
I wished to spend this age for your fidelity
I wished to do this great job by the grace of God
But
I often used to think so
There is no narration able to deliver an appreciation
As Mother is “Flux of eternal light”
So a span of one thousand years is too short to capture such light.
                                                          ­             O' My Mother! I pray for you
                                                             ­          O' My Mother! You pray for me
A translation of my own poem written in Urdu language. The name of book is "RAH TAKTI AANKH (راہ تکتی آنکھ)"

She is hiding behind her projected frumpiness..
but when my young lovely takes off her glasses;

   Ah,    ****..

Those eyes are the reason men were given theirs.

Group facilitator is Christ incarnate..
                                      I am sure of it.

     "How well do you want to get, Paul"

I look over at her--
curled up on a chair pad..
hiding,  wondering
Looking down.. and then looking up at me
wondering if I'm gonna answer him;

      "Paul?  Are you there?"

I stare at her--  all alone,
biting the back of her fingers
fighting tears few in this world
would understand


There is roll-playing  in the group
using both action and Word
   to climb all over me
   and uncover me from where I hide.


He (my Jesus with an MA)
is staring at me,  inviting
I look back over at her
"I'm not leaving it, Dave"

              "Leaving what. Paul?"

"My brokenness..
its shattering of my soul"


He is staring at me, but begins to smile.
I look over at her,  and just know

  I will be with her forever

there is a healing
within the choice to not fully heal

      ..I'm going to Wichita

https://youtu.be/WM5W5y9zb1A?si=qlW3TxqbLetoGUNh

beautiful broken girl  is me
Mark Lecuona Mar 2016
We ask of you now
What skill do you possess?
For in the new world
Only giving is progress

We ask only for life
And not self-interest
What will be left behind
Will no longer exist

I am of passage
By air, land or sea
I follow Cassiopeia and Orion
For light from dark is how I see

A mariner by trade
Yes you may come aboard
And by your guidance
We will find our reward

I am of construct
By hammer, saw and nail
Will you know of comfort
Without my talents to avail?

A carpenter by trade
Yes you may come aboard
And by your shelter
We will find our reward

I am of nourishment
I will reach into the sea
By hook, line and sinker
This you will be taught by me

A fisherman by trade
Yes you may come aboard
And by your daily bread
We will find our reward

I am of creation
I bring brush, voice and fifths
By color, words and melody
You will know of your gifts

An artist by trade
Yes you may come aboard
And by your imagination
We will find our reward

I am of healing
And a facilitator of birth
I will reach into my bag
And life I will bring forth

A doctor by trade
Yes you may come aboard
And by your oath
We will find our reward

I am of spirituality
And you will know of no darkness
For the spirit that flows inside
Will remind you of God’s promise

A shaman by trade
Yes you may come aboard
And through your prayers
We will find our reward

But by who's hand will we be guided?
Though it was I who rang the bell of freedom
I shall remain behind while you decide
For no King of the flesh lives in Eden

And with no lawyers to confuse
Or politicians that lie
The dreamer will wave farewell
But his vision will never die
james nordlund Jun 2018
Still, the Roman Catholic Imperial Church hasn't done all it can to atone for
persecuting humanity with their last inquisition, the global mass-**** of mostly
boys, that while more and more supposed christian al-queda do terrorist acts,
still, serial murderers masquerading as cops genocide mostly men of color,
still, newborns are ****** to death in the crib by the remocrat conspiracy's
psychic terrorism, 'the ****', and are also neutered by them, who have said
"they'll turn out to be dems or non-rems", still infancy, toddlerhood, childhood,
teenage and young adulthood years are filled with mass serial: rapings, ******
assaults, anatomical destructions, assaults, attempted maimings, muggings, beatings,
persecution, discrimination, institutional abuses, etc..  Still, 9 months after
hurricane maria tore through Puerto Rico, etc., they don't have restored electric,
adequate food and water distribution, their death toll, according to a Harvard
study, is over 4600, almost 3 times that of Katrina, and the next hurricane
season's upon us.  Still, women's reproductive rights are under constant attack,
assaults on women's health centers have escalated, as has religiously biggoted
attacks on Muslims, etc., while funding for the people's gov't'l safety net has
been drastically cut across the board, still these draconian legislations, outright
eugenics programs, aren't prosecuted by the U.N. as State Agression against people,
as indicated by the Nuremburg Accords, necessitated by ****** having done the same.  
Still, the intelligence, military, police, prison industrial complexes haven't dealt
with mass-****, inequity in prison sentencing, urgently needed prison reform, severe
lack of education of, and availability of lawyers, funds for prisoner's defenses,
the necessary prosecution of the going on two trillion dollar per year intelligence
community for purposefully not preventing the hacking of the elections of 2016, and
thereby being a part of the invisible coup that installed Trumpler, with dinos,
sinos, ginos, ainos, linos, Bernie or bust bots, Assange, wikileaks, global hackers,
Putin's puppets all.  Still Trumpler regularly attacks, denigrates American people,
institutions, the world, continually tears kids from their parents as a supposed
"disincentive", while that's human atrocity, as he continues to mock, be unfettered
by the continuing revelations, indictments, investigations of him, his campaign and
the executive branch he has installed, E.P.A.'s Pruitt, while he illegally weeds out
dempublicans, all who aren't criminal, even firing remocrats who aren't SS enough.  
His latest, his 'fixer' Cohen, getting over a million from navaritus pharma (of
course Trumpler got his cut), because The Facilitator-In-Chief is following pages
from king george (bush **** heavily invested in pharma) and his ****, cheney's
aborted by the people plan's playbook to diagnose, prescribe to most, especially
those mentally less advantaged teens who've been chosen, trained, triggered by the
remocrat conspiracy's psychic terrorism (with a disparaging wink, nod from dinos,
dempublicans), 'the ****', to do terrorist acts in schools, being on the hot seat
instead of Trumpler, and another example of State extreme hypocrisy as well as the
imploding domestic war against everything, especially nature, next generations
(the corp. structure's convoluion's devoluionarey direction vs. the evolution),
as they, merx for more through to mercs for unending unnecessary worldwide war,
cannibalize the future to replicate their past supposed profits, evermore and in
ever more cyclical, centralizing patterns. Is this also how they're assassinating
the future non-rem leaders before they even become adults?  "...We(e),..." need
everyone to speak out, stand, everyday, if not now, then when, if not here, where?
The first two in the thus far trilogy of twigs of poetree   :)   'Unreal Times Too', and 'Unreal Times'.   reality
Judgson blessing Jul 2015
Be all and good but in ancient wood carving .
henceforth hang it if you pretend a new reviving .
oh, i know you may not laugh openly .
if its not the common alluring of society .
its marked already , you will think how they once done it .
and your dream is the firmament of dull old hulk conceit .
but you , you never whispered all time due a hint .
aught ,you will drag along the ramification of what others mint .
its not for the cause or how its dread to be dried sapling .
nay , your originality of colors its what is faintly retiring .
' Man of Men ' what story do you behold for proof ?
cynosure , but the aurora of ancient mound and Petra .
i know you will write if you have found the old dream as roof .
clockwise , no objection cause wanton will recollect the gloom era .
dont talk lest rave , of telling you Achilles slain Hector .
but never try to hint a command till you hear your facilitator  .
put your robe all over your face and let the brand shine as a secret .
hereditary , from your dream all thing will gush and no deject .
you cant be knave nor a drudge cause you put on the national crow .
and set aloud the secret rampant hag , its truly the antique best row .
oh , why , the truth ? they know it already so do confine with it .
all the commons have learned  the universal prejudice as holy lit .
comrade you drag up to Gladiator combat then tell us what we expect .
evil should it be if you dont know Grecian's myth in all aspect .
but clad yourself as symbolist or imagist with Elagabalus or raven .
though let your poetry be past Zeus carving in austere glen .
but be hell wit it if you think that you doubt about Phocion .
but be all and good , metaphysics , symbolism , are holy glorification .
It's like two people , lovers from the previous night that see one another the following day , a bit embarrassed , unsure if love or animal attraction exist between the two or heating a glass tube ,-building the facilitator for a hit of ice or two hidden from view , in a empty pack of Marlboros , people are more than aware of your "secret" discretions so why doodle , writing lines in sand that are erased at high tide , sending secret , sweet notes to the apple of your eye , building bridges for all to cross or lone tree on a island that nobody knows , creating fields of fire without a battle , stroking the ego of tyrants that don't really matter ?
Copyright  September 15 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
J Mar 2021
Loneliness sprouts dandelions between the cracks of my heart

The more I push others away, the more the weeds swell

I am the facilitator behind the impurity, I am the hypocrite, I am the burden

How long before my heart is infested?
...
Aine Mar 2018
I'll hold onto you.
Firm, like the baobab roots
I'll deepen my grip into the soils of your soul
deeper and tighter until you feel like home

I'll be your shelter through the storm
your hideout when the thunder roars
I'll be the water you seek in times of drought,
and your anchor when it floods

I'll keep you still in rough times
your saddle when the wind betrays it's pace bearing uneasy breaths
I'll be with you  when it's impossible
a facilitator to your beautiful growth

I'll keep you on solid grounds
when erosion is eating you up
I'll store all your beautiful parts
even when they try to cut you down,
I will awaken the power of your regrowth

I am your roots

forever be your invisible guard,
that invincible part
not seen by naked eyes
nor touched by harmful hands

©mereidow
we all need that one person that  will always stick with us like roots, even when it's our self
Sam Temple Oct 2016
~



mouths move
               gestures grant meaning

                            some smiles pass
                                   and
                          animated flailing follows ~

     one set of eyes
        does not register    
          my observation
   the droning facilitator
              ******* life and air
        from forced bodies ~

the second hand slips gears
                 time reverses

mounting stress and
         flipping pony tails
              an adjusted power tie
                                  tucked into a grey blazer ~

How long has that coffee cup
                    been floating?    /
Kay Forest Jun 2018
Fading in and out of consciousness
I get stuck in THE dream
the one that is more real than my waking thoughts
I am paralyzed by the weight of my own mind
feeling the wind
watching the blur of the forest beside us
I am hopeless as the car drives up that familiar path
Curving around the fear that lives deep inside me
Faster and faster we head toward my demise

You see
it doesn't matter how many times I dream it
or who is in the drivers seat this time
it matters that I am still the scared little girl in the passenger seat
Sadly looking over at you
begging with my eyes to not drive me off that cliff again
I sit there
helpless
just as I am in my conscious state
unable to open my mouth and affect the outcome of my own fate
and then it happens
we break through the guardrails
and once again I am weightless
my stomach in my throat
like a foreign object too big for me to swallow
and I can't take my eyes off you
as I fall
even though you just killed us both
finally
the seconds that felt like a lifetime end
and I open my eyes

I didn't think you'd ever be the one driving the car
but I suppose every end has its beginning
It's been months since I've had this dream
that I've had so many times before
why tonight
why now in my mind
am I continuing to loose control
is reality beginning to slip through my fingers once again
maybe it was the talk about your driving
maybe it was the thoughts of returning to Pennsylvania
maybe
just maybe
it was hearing your voice again
that voice I long for every second
every moment of my existence
the lack of control I have when it comes to wanting you
and the hopelessness I feel when it comes to loving you

i envision what is in the forest
that we pass by on our way to the end
is our cabin there waiting
the candle wax dripping on an uneaten dinner for two
is our garden waiting
neglected
and overrun with weeds
rotten and crawling of hungry critters
is our rock there
bare
cold
and lonely
are the tree trunks longing for our pressure against them
nevertheless we missed it all
our minds
our nature
kept driving us farther away

I understand now why the forest is such a reprieve for me
it's my last hope
if only one of the few men that have had the honor of driving me off that cliff
would have just stopped the car
with squeals of urgency
leaving tire marks in the road
we could have abandoned the material possessions of this life
abandon society
culture
expectation
disappointment
We would run as fast as we could toward truth
getting lost in the pines of beauty
and wading through the river of love
that cliff would be nowhere in site
i am consumed by the feel of
each branch
each needle
each river rock
hitting my body
leaving tiny scars of our journey to freedom

miles away from that road
under the stars
laying in your embrace
I am safe
if I was the facilitator of my own dreams
that's how it would end every time
but first
I have to figure out my
escape
from the smell of old leather and gasoline
I have to free my mind
with the fragrance of firs and moonlight
I need courage to get out of that seat
or rather
never get in
belief I can control my mind
only then I will control the car
and my fate
No societal conform or punctuation
nivek Mar 2016
a conduit
facilitator
a poem
poetry
a poet
Star BG Dec 2017
LOVE works.
it gets into stream of breath for harmony.

LOVE works.
It pulsates inside heartbeats to vibrate joy.

LOVE works
It plants flowers and smiles
to harvest peace.


StarBG © 2017


Star Blossom Goddess
Intuitive/Channeler, Leader of Temple of love, Sound Healer,
Emissary of Love, Angel card reader,
Spiritual Lecturer and workshop facilitator
Teacher, Coach for Peace, Writer, Children’s entertainer/storyteller
Just playing with love phase
Star BG Dec 2017
There are THREE secrets to Happiness
SELF LOVE
CONNECTION TO GOD
AND GRATITUDE.

There are SIX secrets to Contentment
TRUST
PATIENCE
FORTITUDE
SELF LOVE
CONNECTION TO GOD
AND GRATITUDE.

There are NINE secrets to Peace.
BREATH
ONENESS
DREAMS
TRUST
PATIENCE
FORTITUDE
SELF LOVE
CONNECTION TO GOD
GRATITUDE

StarBG © 2017
Star Blossom Goddess
Intuitive/Channeler, Leader of Temple of love, Sound Healer,
Emissary of Love, Angel card reader,
Spiritual Lecturer and workshop facilitator
Teacher, Coach for Peace, Writer, Children’s entertainer/storyteller
Just playing with words.
No matter corporeal essence
     of Robert Frost bid adieu
from temporal plain approximately
     five and fifty plus years ague,
his rediscovered spiritual
     omnipresence suffuses anew

mine gnarly feeble exegesis
     denounce-able, deplorable,
     and despicable hue
Morris legacy of Robert Frost, who
nonetheless (auld choke king aside)
     doth rank as irreproachable amidst
     pantheon of deceased
     great poets, you

would agree, unless familiarity
     already yar aware
how the New England vantage point
     (approximately three quarters
     of a century) in the past
     his (WMGK) magic doth blare
infusing and injecting
     a much needed cheer

full dose of dare...
ring ling lee, (I spout
     je nais sais quois)
     in my attempt
     to be poetically debonair
(the only French known to me)
     in an effort to endear
homage Robert Frost,

     he whose flair
with words defy accolades
     and brilliance doth glare
with blinding profundity here
to fore lamentable, impossible, and
feeble attempt to emulate,
     a immortal one man brand
amidst pantheon of

     August American poets,
     the depth of,
     his writings doth expand
lovingly justifiably ineluctably
     historically gently fanned
this nonpareil poetic king,
     whose status grand
which feeble, ignoble,

     and laughable attempted hand
(spurred by facilitator
     at "All Poetry" website) island
did this impossibly
     elusive task, thus admit
admission aye feel duff feet head

     to write letting words flit
to and fro, hither and yon,
     that bind like true grit
with that esprit
     de corps cerebral impact
     that doth gently hit
ice suppose said task
     would be a breeze to an Innit

where he/she,
     would immediately synchronize
unlike myself, who ****
     not up to this task,
     as yukon up prize

thy dog gone ruff hewn effort -
     no (Chuck Norris) lies
attested as wretched - to by
     any gallivanting guys
hence aye desperately axis allies!

— The End —