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Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
The words are a beautiful music.
The words bounce in water.
Water music,
loud in the clearing
off the boats,
birds, leaves.
They look for a place
to sit and eat--
no meaning,
no point.

Robert Creeley (1926-2005).
©2015 by Trevon S. Haywood.
script on screen life is but a dream a b c d e f g gee **** g-chord ******  geezz script on screen row row your boat h i j k ellemenoh *** oh please baby *** for me let me watch you stream merrily merrily merrily script on screen q arrest tee you vee double you x why zee

last night i watched a woman answering questions about ***** size she spoke about the toilet tissue roll test for years i’ve been thinking my ***** is rather undersized (compared to studs on **** sites) this morning i took the test undid the roll from wall and stuck my ******* in the hole at first i had trouble getting it in so i guess my thickness is healthy then i slowly managed to shove the entire head of my **** out the other end by that time clear pre-*** was dripping from my ***** hole pressure from my hand gripping tissue roll felt surprisingly arousing i began ******* the roll squeezing pushing in deeper jerking almost bringing myself to ****** i passed the test the toilet tissue roll appears kind of twisted indented

what will happen next hoping for heartbreaking story with happy ending man masturbates while woman urinates both watch each other intently what is so fascinating

Asheville is small yet monumental by luck or fate he hooks up with Tim Calaprese a gregarious loving soul Tim loves women and wine and dogs particularly Farina he owns a beat up old house on steep hill overlooking downtown Asheville Odysseus rents a room for $200. a month Tim is a wine salesman and gone much of the time Odysseus is critically destitute he goes to Salvation Army they provide bed-sheets towels he sells tent and camping equipment to hippies on Haywood Street for several weeks he and Farina live on convenience store hotdogs he gets job prepping house exterior to be painted his boss tells him he is a good worker after a hard day’s work the boss lays him off he gets hired as a waiter for the dinner shift in the restaurant of a resort hotel he is weary of waiting tables but needs cash in the mornings he takes Farina to ****** Lake to swim then they go back to house paint on the porch many mornings are overcast with fog around noon sun comes out warms afternoon Odysseus loves Blue Ridge Mountains he paints a series of mountain scapes while listening continuously to Palace Brothers Pearl Jam Pavement Sebadoh Steve Earle occasionally he works on story about the clone sometime in 90’s DNA has become a factor and he needs to incorporate detail into story

on stormy afternoon in July as thunder echoes through Blue Ridge Mountains phone rings Odysseus is suffering from severe attack of food poisoning it is difficult to reach receiver phone keeps ringing it is Penelope her voice sounds shaky she says doctors have diagnosed her with leukemia it is startling shock she is only 43 years old his stomach rips he needs to run back to toilet telephone cord is not long enough Penelope says it is urgent Odysseus return to Chicago to see if he can be bone marrow match for her he tells her he will drive up immediately after food poisoning passes Penelope becomes irritable he can feel himself leaking between his legs hangs up immediately runs to toilet spends most of night in bathroom brief naps in bed in the morning he hears someone knocking at door he does not know who it is he cannot leave toilet he hears footsteps enter house call his name Odysseus are you there where are you it is Penelope and Sean he flushes toilet comes out to greet them what a weird surprise why didn’t you think to give me some notice he questions as he lies down on bed Penelope and Sean want to take Odysseus to hospital he tells them they are overreacting food poisoning will soon work its way out of his system Penelope asks if there is anything she can do Odysseus answers Farina hasn’t been out for a good walk in days Please be an angel and take her up the street there’s a field there she likes Penelope calls come here Farina let’s go for a walk Farina follows they depart out door Sean sits down at foot of bed he forcefully speaks Odysseus i know you you like to skew the facts to fit your own purposes then hammer me for whatever make-believe you can cook up when are you going to finally start being a man live up to your responsibilities Odysseus questions what facts are you talking about i’m sick as a dog now is not the time to have this talk Sean challenges yes it is you listen to me your sister is sick and needs your help Odysseus replies i’m heading to Chicago as soon as i’m well enough to travel Sean insists that’s not soon enough we’re taking you to a hospital Odysseus stands from bed Sean stands up facing him they stare each other down Odysseus goes to slip on jeans Sean stands in the way Odysseus tries to step around Sean shoves Odysseus back unto bed Odysseus stands shoves back fistfight ensues mostly Odysseus throws wild punches Sean blocks as they violently jostle out door Sean trips on wet porch falls breaks rib Odysseus grabs his pants car keys flees Penelope and Farina watch puzzled as he drives off day after incident and departure of Penelope and Sean Mom calls insists Odysseus return without delay to Chicago he answers i’m on my way Odysseus packs car with Farina drives north he feels pressure of his family envisions himself as piece of living meat whose sole purpose is to supply Penelope with bone marrow momentarily imagines his family as predators Mom is the real killer she knows how to delegate ****** Dad had been a killer for Mom Penelope has learned from Mom how to contend Odysseus is weak link he taught himself to brave harshest conditions yet is no competitor he is worker bee stupid dreamer all alone in greedy predatory world more than anything he loves and wants to help Penelope he is annoyed by nervous tension of family
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2011
Liberties Undying Flame
I’m going to write in the shadow and stream of Abe Lincoln we can’t be our hero but we can strive to be like them. First and foremost honesty they say it is refreshing. Well I was kept from writing all day went thirty miles to go out to eat. Finally at eleven I was too tired to write well actually I didn’t have anything to write. So I took a fifteen minute nap then set in the chair until five forty five first finally coming up with this then writing it in my head now to put it down. It has to do as the title says with streams those that stream into your life from others. When trying to find a story that could be the jumping off place I got out the book pedaling to Hawaii. Sub title a human powered Odyssey. Stevie Smith a Paris bureaucrat decides there has to be more to life so he chucks everything and begins his quest to use only human power to circle the globe by pedaling no sails or motors just human exertion. Richard Branson writes this on the front of the book.”If you believe, as I do that we all have something extraordinary within us, this wonderful book will inspire you to begin your dream and follow it through”
In life’s constant free every flowing tide these mentors come in timeless rhythm they surmount all obstacles carry back with them to the sea the waste the debris you unwisely collected not knowing this collection the enemy has brought to seal your life against God given streams that are the very substance of life changing dreams. They were found in neighborhoods and streets the common paths but these were fixed by divine design he was adding mental and physical attributes that fit perfect into the mosaic he had envisioned when he thought of you. One neighbor scruffy mean hostile your first thoughts what a sad waste but then you saw the beautiful daughters and the upstanding sons. Then your question Willard why have you tried so hard to perpetrate this effective lie your lesson don’t look on the outward but be perceptive take the time in this harden shell you can find beautiful secrets to tell he was just a dark color in the whole it blends to form the richest hues for in you mercy will ensue the lost and forgotten who have long trodden a chilled and lonely path among stone and thorn will once again know the clear air and paths bathed in warm sunshine. There are rarest finds if you’re willing to walk the extra mile your own life you will enrich so many others so carefree have come to find waste and spoil
Then the farmer who held on to the past long had the tractor replaced the team of horses but remember the harmony living flesh man and horses when he spoke talked to them they willing obeyed leaned into the harness how there magnificence gave a thrill to your heart then the silver plow knifed the earth black soil rolled over the side of the plow how did common earth transform into a black wave even more compelling than the grassy sod that moments before ruled with a quiet flare. The leather creaked against the strain I could swear it was singing. In this moment retold jack and that team are again in fields wide made with straightest furrows the golden seed to be laid in this temporal grave tomorrow rich harvest the families table spread labors highest honor paid.
The mothers the fathers along these thoroughfares coursed humans greatest gift they with ordinary means rearmed a nation with bloodlines and lifelines to continue a way bought for from blood spilled on sea and land to keep us free. The truth if you could remove lies deadly snare from people’s minds the religion they practice is the contrivance of slavery to make the few rule the weaker with this blight abolished they could see we are the same as them we only desire good for family and the larger world.
This is the strong hold of any nation Brother G.T. Haywood a black pastor in Indianapolis went to his church locked the door for twenty one days he sought God for black and white people his city and nation the benefactors of his love and devotion at the end of this prayer and fast he emerged and penned this immortal song. I see a stream of crimson it flows from Calvary its waves is washing over me. The city fathers credited this man’s influence for saving the city when Detroit was in ashes he had long gone to his reward but his life and spirit lived on. Mr. President you could learn a lot from this man your aid using the foulest language isn’t funny you have a sacred trust live up to it.
Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
It's gonna be okay, it's just rain.
Because i don't want to get wet.
I always keep dry under my umbrella.

Anonymous. 12/14/2015.
©2015 Trevon S. Haywood.
Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
That's what they say, never trust any type of genius like that.
It's called the inheritance and selection.
And this is gonna be better than this and better than that.
Like we always do.
Because we are so smart, dark and lovely. We always have fun and a good time tonight.
No complaints, no exceptions and no warnings.
We always stay safe and we always stay warm. There's everything to do with the inheritance and selection.

Anonymous. 12/16/2015.
©2015 by Trevon S. Haywood.
Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
Bring on the rain.
And listen to the thunder.
I'm cruel than the other two.
Like daughter, like son.

Anonymous. 12/14/2015.
©2015 Trevon S. Haywood.
Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
The blueness dies out my eyes tonight,
The red gold of my heart. O how still the light burns!
Your cloak of sadness encircles the long descent.
Your red lips seal your friend's unhinging.

Georg Trakl (1887-1914). 12/16/2015.
©2015 by Trevon S. Haywood
Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
it's the final month of 2015 and we have to finish strong before it's all over set and done.
We don't have to wait too long because Christmas is 3 weeks away and the new year is coming up soon.
So, be safe and patient until 2015 is officially coming to a beautiful grand end.
And if it works, I'll be pursuing my business next year as one of it's own kind.

Anonymous. 12/1/2015.
©2015 by Trevon S. Haywood.
Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
How do i know you,
when the rain came down peacefully?
And it happens every year.
Since the year i've started here.
This is still 2015, and it's not over yet.
We've only got 2 weeks until 2016 comes as soon as possible.

Anonymous. 12/14/2015.
©2015 Trevon S. Haywood.
Perfect poem.
Tyler King Mar 2017
(This poem is dedicated to the hundreds of thousands of men and women who have struggled across generations in pursuit of the timeless ideals of freedom, justice, and equality)

When they try to tell you that the act of protest is un-American,
Dig in your heels, square your shoulders, spit in their face, and remind them where you come from
You come from Samuel Adams, spilled tea and muskets over Massachusetts, people who believed a revolution could not be honest if it did believe in its own declarations,
From John Brown and Nat Turner, broken chains and dead masters, people who believed slavery could not be destroyed without taking up the gun,
From Sojourner Truth and Susan B Anthony, ballots cast in handcuffs, people who refused to back down until democracy lived up to its promises,
From Eugene Victor Debs, shut down railroads and prison sentences, people who would risk everything so that every worker had the right to a fair wage and a livable condition,
From Mother Jones and Big Bill Haywood, general strikes and marching mill children, people who believed we could never be free unless we owned what we produced,
From Emma Goldman, anarchy and cries for liberty, people who believed that every institution which dominated the human spirit had to smashed by force,
From Malcolm X and Huey Newton, shotguns and free breakfasts, people who believed the government would not protect us so we must protect ourselves,
From Angela Davis and Assata Shakur, shootouts on the turnpike and crumbling prison walls, people who believed true emancipation was a struggle that would last forever,
From The Weather Underground and Students for a Democratic Society, midnight break ins and burning draft cards, people who believed the true enemy was not on foreign soil but in Washington
From Chief Seattle and Black Elk, wounded knee and fast receding tides, people who fought to carve their ancestors legacy out from the rubble of a stolen nation,
From Cesar Chavez and Robert Bullard, people who believed to save ourselves we must also save the Earth we live on,
From the Gay Liberation Front, police raids resisted and throwing bricks in dresses, people who fought like hell so that in the future people wouldn't have to fight like hell to love who they wished

Yours is but the next stage in evolution in a line centuries in the making,
You will carry that brilliant torch, and you will burn everything down with it
You will stand on the shoulders of giants climbing to a utopia that was promised,
They will try to break you down, they will try to **** your dream in its cradle,
But you will always have strength they do not,
History will remember you and them alike,
You as the hero, and them as the villain,
Remember this, keep this close to you,
For it will always be your greatest weapon
Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
The inspiration comes standard.
With lots of rules and regulations that we need to follow.
To support each other with considerable respect and adorable.
Like men and women.

Anonymous. 12/11/2015.
©2015 by Trevon S. Haywood.
No need to worry about it, just a short poem for me
Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
Why am I so sad?
Because I'm young and the restless.
I miss some new good friends.
Including me, myself and I.
The reason why is that I'm still young and the restless.
And I'm still happy and proud, excited and lovely.
I wanna fall in love with women.
Why am I lonely?
Because I'm still young and the restless.
I love you. I don't wanna lose you.

Anonymous. 12/19/2015.
©2015 by Trevon S. Haywood.
Dedicated to my friend Leon who passed away.
Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
All night the sound had
come back again,
and again falls
this quite persistent rain.

What am I to myself
that must be remembered,
insisted upon
so often? Is it
that never the ease,
even the hardness,
of rain falling
will have for me
something other than this,
something not so insistent--
am I to be locked in this
final uneasiness.
Love, if you love me,
lie next to me.
Be for me, like rain,
the getting out
of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-lust of intentional indifference.
Be wet
with a descent happiness.

Robert Creeley (1926-2005).
©2015 by Trevon S. Haywood.
Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
Everyone knows that i still love math and science.
But i have plenty of options for that too.
Because this is going to be a great party ever.
And i still wanna celebrate all day and all night.
We are never gonna waste time for all the things we've had done fot the past couple of years.
Anyways, i still love the rain so much because it's way better than snow.
Besides, there's no snow in New England yet, but we'll see if i can predict the weather for the winter season as soon as possible.
And since it's the final month of 2015, i can do whatever i want to in a new partner and i can fall in love with someone all over again.

Anonymous. 12/2/2015.
©2015 by Trevon S. Haywood.
Dedicated to myself
THE DANGERS OF READING FLAUBERT....AL FRESCO!
( for Ray )

"Souvent la chaleur d’un beau jour..."

he reads, stops:
kisses her.

" ...Fait rêver fillette à l’amour."

she completes the words
kisses...kisses him.

Dining al fresco
feeling somewhat frisky

they throw caution
to the wind

soon all too soon
Flaubert forgotten

Madame Bovary
discarded on the grass

soon all too soon
even the food forgotten

clothing of both
male and female attire

discarded on the grass
now nothing but gasps

they each
the other's feast

the wind idly turning
Bovary's pages

skipping to the end then
beginning again

until one last ***** gusty
breeze interrupts their play

chasing their clothes
that run away

his boxers hang now
upon the bough

her pink camiknickers..pale pink bra
making a run for it

laughingly they chase
their clothes

this Adam and his Eve

bra floating ****-up
in a pond

the camiknickers never
alas to be found.

And here now on their
50th

they share the same smile
when asked how it was

they came together

remembering their love making
in windy weather

shyly slyly blame
Flaubert

" Il souffla bien fort ce jour-là,
Et le jupon court s’envola."

*

From the Italian, literally translated as 'in the fresh'. In English, used to mean either 'in the open air' or, where specifically related to mural painting, 'on fresh plaster'.

Almost always, it is used in relation to dining alfresco, that is, eating outdoors.

Both meanings have been in use in English since at least the late 18th century; for example, in Mrs. Eliza Haywood's History of Jemmy and Jenny Jessamy, 1753:

"It was good for her ladyship's health to be thus alfresco."

The lines quoted are from the end of Madame Bovary who expires as the Blind Man sings them in a raucous voice. They are from a  Restive de la Bretonne poem from his"The Year of the National Ladies" way back in 1791. He who was so much into women's shoes  that his very name became as one with this particular peculiar fetish..Retifism

"Souvent la chaleur d’un beau jour
Fait rêver fillette à l’amour.

Il souffla bien fort ce jour-là,
Et le jupon court s’envola."

"Maids in the warmth of a summer day,
Dream of love, and of love always. . ."

"The wind is strong this summer day
Her petticoat has flown away."

— The End —