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jeffrey robin Sep 2011
where are we hiding?
......
how shall you find us?
------
they know where we are!
..
every one knows what's happening
...
still, lovers go to college
and why?
..
still, we try to learn  and prosper
.
to love and marry
...why?
-----
-----
and ifn i say
that i'd know you
what do i mean?
..
words have no meaning
.
ifn you' d talk to me
that would seem special
.
ifn you'd really
put your faith in your integrity
im sure i would notice
.
i am always looking
for a sign of integrity
.
i hardly ever
see a
sign of integrity
......
where shall we go?
what shall we do?
.
we gotta kinda surely
be someone special
something that's different
surely you know this
is a time for real change
.
total and immaculate
....change....
------
that is all we can do

CHANGE WITH INTEGRITY
UNTO SOMEONE SPECIAL
SO THE WORLD MAY SURVIVE
jeffrey robin Sep 2011
and ifn we are gonna make it
we gotta take the past and totally break it
and break free
....
we are the wind and sky and sea
we are the world
the people of it
we are not the slaves of others greed
we are not slaves
.
we are free
-------
ifn we would hold each other
in hearts of fire and knowin of
the only sincere feelin
(---- love----)
we gotta take the past and totally break it
totally break it
totally break it
..
and  love
and love
am i ee Sep 2015
Pay attention!
rap rap
said the big fat bus,
with the big fat bootay.

i say
i have something
to say
to you!

a wee bit of advice to you
you so sweet
young lasses
out and about
on hot summer nights
in camaros
and vans
and pintos
and mustangs.
and mom's
station wagon's.



# 1
when that eager
young lad's hands
are a crawlin' all over
you.

yes YOU missy,
your sweet nubile
young territory,

the time will come
when you shall
want all these
shennanigans to
STOP!

so i give to thee
some wee
words of advice.

#2
Be firm with your delivery.
Do not waver.
Strong even voice,
increase volume if
necessary.

to the
Kind sir,
the,
young lad..

say!

i do not beg you,
i command thee ...
be sure to understand!
keep those roving
hands to thyself.

for you can
rest assured,

this playground is closed!

this is a no nookey zone!

#3
blue *****,
you claim,
they are a ailing you?

for you i give
this sound advice,

say!
introduce yourself
to your right hand,

and ifn' you be a wantin'
a menage eh of three,

invite
your,
left hand
to
come along!

#4
Be firm and be sure,
you are sitting on
a sacred fortune of gold,
don't let them
miners be gropin'
around,
be a gropin'
you.

it is only for you
to sacredly unfold
your divine
femininin-ess.

if you want to do it,
do it...
but search your heart long before you do.  
at least think you are in love
before taking the plunge.

first loves are sweet
and last long
in hidden recesses of
mysterious minds.

take your time,
30 and more,
is the age
we big fat busses
with big fat yellow bootays
come into our own.

no rush.
nowhere to go.
all the time in the world to get there.
there is,
i assure you,
no rush.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2019
See this old fishin' reel snarled? A waste of time to untie
what can be re-tied
and, and is a big junction in the start of a story, and
after retying, be used for it's purpose,

see, if a retie won't work, you know, this monofilial-******
fibratory idea's slippery,
inside outside one way optical influence, IF
this was that situation then this knot would call patience
to bher the burden of learning to
un ravel a snarl of expert's ties to rights which they hoped would never slip, as they stepped into next...

in this instance, fishin', out in the gypsum beds,
ancient corals once grew,

-- real life Lake Mead, who was Mead? A man who executed a plan
to dam the Colorado,
and the whole world heard the whales in Baja weep, but we have learned.
We go on

learning earth has lived through
times and times and times

a gathering must have first

seemed a good idea,
by then, by the point any story can stand, but first, a
point upon a time,

tricky balance act, takes this much of ever to imagine right,

many Planck-secs and Google-plexhours past
way back when
we the earthy sapient beings, be came, ere
we were
human, we were

what? Not angels and demons, those need so much more time to evolve than this.
Word stuff,
Poetry.
This is the third millennial bubble
begin
when my da was working in Alamogordo, '44.

I'll go see, live or die, try

to remember, who took the doorstop? Feynman said it was platinum

This is default download from the germs,
first tasted in open air on a moment you imagine you remember,
you can now imagine being born and no scarier story need be known
--- past now is only next, never never,
--- always a place to step
--- there, be
--- still
--- connection secure
knots of knowns, are knowledges, gotten with wisdom
getting, as we mellow and
ripen to re
al ize
common sense complexes of knowns needed to operate earth,

these aphoristic word frames encaging emotions we
need gage theory to envision, these
we believe, are edged in the sort of dust
a diamond farmer might use to shine a mirror

here, we give such a mirror to
each child surviving you,
should you
have survived, thus far,
you must
find
your kind, in the will,
your kind inherits the earth, and
if you
stir things, meek as Moses, make some trouble in you own 'ouse,
see, we
double dip, we inherit the wind, as well.

Earth is the whole biosphere, here. Thus, the troubler of the house of knots worth untying, begins to unravel the snarls and straighten
this knotted thread

to spite the micro-bio leaven pollen dust enclosed, as a curious bee
leaves a little could be
upon this line, where this knot
fast-bound,

we know

Hermes-tic click sealed since a known
knowable was tied in this
wordy
very complex bit of re
lated things, things known knowable in theory,

now, power is back on, it is 2019, on land once involved

with a story begun in 2018, when the power went off,
bowing to a named wind… as did the fire that year, too.

--- what have we learned?
knowledge means locked knowing, click. A knot, after a previous knot,
no feathers or stones of seed,
a touch of shaken pollen,
from a bee-- such

we be leaven be, long, long, long strings of knots and fibers marking

needle-point story stitching, sinking
into ancient ancient sapience,

unimagined - ha- nadas unimaginable ifn ye magine it...

we bee safe in this us, this we, the people who hold truth

learned today as tightly as our kind holds truths,
as treasures found, stolen, lost, bought, stolen, lost, found, taken as granted,

this legacy of ideas fit to words fit to my tongue, tasted, tested, spoken,

yea, for ever, in every imaginable sense,
AI account for every idle word,
uttered
which may ever be ab-
used by some here-tic wishyawasme.

Loving my enemies is one of those things,
I take with a grain of salt,
knowing there's room for hate in love,

as there's a set for null in all,
assets-wise

big data is how 2019 functions, idle word
counting algorithms,

are mining all myths and shipping manifests
for clues to who's making money
seem worth dying for,

in mortal terms.

Amusers are first paid in amusement.
Is the roofer dancing?

Peace is heaven, I heard, my word, I said,

heaven and it's kingdom are,
in me, if i examine my
self-logo, my brand,
my mark left to my children's thousandth generation,
who have survived
the upgrade.

Peacemakers who survive dimensional novel bubble-life,
mememeory Y as y in in all working things,


a knot is a stop, a step, where a knower of all as far as you know,

once, stood. The boy walking the trail marked

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

From <https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+8%3A28&version=KJV>

This is on the trail very far along after the sign saying
this is the path less traveled by,

still.
Same AI
am i ee Sep 2015
the manly cowboy
settled in for the night,
after a long day of
pure athletic delight.

delivered the mail
did they,
deliciously slow
as any snail
on the go.

he opened
and read,
that a young brave was
a looking for his head.

so he got to thinking,
i'd better still wander,
way over yonder,
way over here,
so 'n he can a ponder,
ifn'  he is still awantin'
to be,
scalpin' me?

never one to hurry,
why ever  scurry?
the brave young lad,
or young lad brave,
he,
couldn't possibly be that bad!

i'll give him some time,
and not start to whine.
(and most certainly not in rhyme)
we can find,
i  am sure,
just the right cure.
thought the manly cowboy,
think did he.

many a mate,
but never as a date,
he did spend
with many a good friend.

not that he minded,
nor cared, where love was a finded.
nor with who,
nor whom,
that's entirely up to you,
before you are laid to rest in your tomb.

out in the wild,
did he spend,
many a night and day
and not a one,
did go astray.

always polite.
nary a fight.
i'll give this good brave guy
a little time to go by,
just a little to fly.

he will be a findin'
i don't be a mindin'
differences in thoughts
differences in gots.

i might be having a few
but i shall say to you,
'Hey buddy
what do you say?
think we can be friends
one day?'

with that optimistic thought
in mind
he turned to his bed roll,
rolling out in a straight line,
lookin' to find,
only,
a peaceful night's sleep
never hearing a peep.

and a brand new day,
coming up his way.
always curious to see,
ever unfolding,
however they been molded,
life's great mysteries.

with that,
he tipped his hat
over his eyes,
so very gentlemanly.
if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
Norman Crane Oct 2022
Love is a gangrenous limb,
Mangled and raw,
Never healing, love is a metonym,
Fatal ifn't offed     with a hacksaw.
Lucas Dec 2021
the tense hypocrite;
king fool.
solipsistic proselytizer:
border ******,
big definer.
i do not endure.

i bow to hollow birth,
crying out
**** me! **** me! i deny being.
God, do you hear me?
why have you given creation away?
i want life, but not consciousness;
my psalm, i want nothing, but to be.
stalk me from
your reasoning
teach me how to breathe

find me in your conscience
learning how
to
lean

your love
it feels
so
good on me

may we never leave


stop stop stop
i can only
love
you
from the bleeds

of
an
stalk

stalk stalk stalk
pelican leg
landing
can't
you
feel me
in what your standing

oh
your fingers
on my toes
we watch
you
from here below


swing swing swing
lashes
eye
batting sleeves


just remember on thing
we can always
get along
ifn
you
approach me
whith the proper stalk song
?
































...
..
.
start singing
...
..
.
Dennis Willis Feb 2019
Here I am
angry

Furious
ovr
u

agn

fukme

ahm
****
of this state

of 'manity
of

sorry ifn
you're all
caught up in
nice
'n rational

lyin mfr

u aint

ah read yer books
et yer lunch

f'd yer femails

struck dumb by
clichés I slaughter

your otter

I know what
it should say

I know what you
want to hear

'cept
I'm clear
via beer

you are queer
enuf
to be here
rather 'n there

I cull the thoughts
that lead to

your shells
are
exhausting

your fears
lead to
great lines

and still
its tired

you're broken heart
is your first

my umpteenth
bite down please

skin leaking
time dancing
friction gathering
its price

it's happiness
primal

I surrender upwards
2 u

give this line
it's due

is none

discovered in you
that you'll name
as yours

this is mine


Copyright@2019 Dennis Willis
poem

treat the page like an bubble
an
blow one

take the wrapper off
ifn
you
want
an
other
?



















...
..
.
go huff
an
puff
...
..
.
lets play
the
silent game
let me
let
you
win
real quick

(screams)
you are
an
liar

his breathing
knocks her
eylashes
off
she
start crying

he starts singing

the quite game
oh
the quite game
she plays my tune
when she cries my name
broke the rules in her sweet ears
now the drummers
of
time
play to
the tune
of
smears

she screams me here
she screams me there
our love has been screamed
from everywhere

so
come on over to me
ifn your like
to get
pleased
the quite game
oh the quite game
we lose real quick
so she can scream
my name
oh
the
quite game


song ends with mandolin
ok
sweetheart
?














...
..
.

— The End —