You were still alive
When I was a child
I knew of your torment
But this boy only smiled

Living in ignorances
I ignored your scars
We waved the flag
It was the stars and bars

While you marched
To remove your chains
We played rebel soldier
"The South shall rise again!"

Someone called you a ...
And yes... I laughed
It all seemed so funny
This boy gave you the shaft

Later I would discover
My parents rejected this thought
They called Dad a "... lover"
I said "No! He's not!"

How sad as I ran
Humiliated to find
Those who looked like me
Hated my parents' mind

I wanted to be good
I wanted to be proud
Instead I was afraid
I couldn't say it out loud

While I lived in shame
A silent scared racist
You answered your calling
And began to resist

Why did it take so long
So long for me to see
The things that you fought
Happened right in front of me

Labeled 3/5 of a man
Not worthy of a drink
Only to be made fun of
I didn't know what to think

I'm sorry Dr. King
It's all I can say now
I know who is worthy
It is to you that I now bow

With dogs, hoses and a bull
That's how they committed sin
But you turned the other cheek
When they rejected you at the inn

You walked with those
Who were proud and fearless
While you asked to be human
In fact you were peerless

Was Jesus' journey less difficult?
Rejected from birth
Bringing us together
With love from this earth

More than a man
But as weak as any other
You gave your life
To save your own brother

Yes I am sorry Dr. King
For being so weak
For not standing up
For being afraid to speak

But today
I can only hope
That you understand
While I continue to *****

Oh how I wish
My weakness never sprouted
That my goodness
Would never be doubted

But to sit by your side
And look you in the eye
And beg for your dream
As you ask me why

Why does a white man
Ask a slave for a dream?
Why does a white man
Ask a slave for self-esteem?

Why do I ask?
Because I have done nothing
I've lived a life of frivolity
While you died for something

I have squandered all I was given
Expecting it as my right
While you planted what was taken
And brought the slave to life

In an immoral world
Of material possession
You earned moral superiority
And gained entrance to heaven

Who do I answer to?
What penance can I pay?
I am sorry Dr. King
Will you let me stay?

Will you show me now
My shortcomings as a man?
Is it any wonder
That I kiss your hand?

Yes I am sorry Dr. King
As sorry as a child can be
I can make no promises
Except pray for people to be free

I'm sorry Dr. King
But I'm also proud
That I came to know you
To remove the shroud

Of bigotry and racism
From my small mind
If we meet one day
I hope this you will find

We overestimate the probability of the improbable through eyes and ears that are susceptible to vivid imagery. Social media screams that 100 people died from poisoned cantaloupes instead of saying in less emotional terms 100 in 7,000,000,000 or .000000000001% of the population. Really It’s all about fear and manipulation. You viewed all the news interviews, watched YouTube videos and even read the compelling articles. Now you’re in the grocery store avoiding cantaloupes like the plague because you might be next! Conversely in positive outcomes this is the same rationalization that compels people to buy jack *** lottery tickets. Can you see how we extremely over weighting the probabilities of events based on the vividness and prevalence of the coverage? The news—the government---companies---all individuals have agendas but not everyone is looking out for your best interest. Many are “wolves in sheep’s clothing” that feed on these manipulations in regards to rare events with the sole purpose to covertly produce a particular behavior that prospers outcomes that are favorable to their own position.

Now her goes the paradox of overestimation and underestimation in regards to rare events. A strange thing happens when rare events are not being perceived vividly through our senses. They are simply ignored! We no longer over estimate probabilities but instead begin to under estimate probability! For example during Hurricane Katrina victims yielded to evacuate due to this under estimation. The probability of the rare event was neglected in part to lack of vividness. In hindsight they seemed foolish for not leaving but in actuality were quite human in their behavior that lacked the emotional experience towards the rare event (obviously the decision was intertwined with a myriad of other individual variables). In the aftermath the vividness of the Hurricane’s media coverage allows the opposite to occur once more---a heavy overestimation of a future storms probability. This produces disproportionate fears for many in regards to actual hurricane probabilities. Leaving the door open for exploitation.

What we see is a human nature that goes extremely over or under in estimations towards the outcomes of rare events compared to the events actual probabilities. The danger is that people know this!! They can pump your head with what they want you to overestimate and be silent on what they’d like you to neglect, all in the manipulation of their cause. The perceived good guy can easily be one in the same with the bad guy. The best sociopaths are quite charming. People can easily be manipulated with the news and Youtube videos for example. Often times the information provided has traces of truth that are used to spark emotions that lead an individual further away from actuality while simultaneously using them towards their own divisive agendas. They will stay silent to other matters---producing neglect till it’s time to play the good guy once the neglected issue (often created themselves) explodes. In the after math the information they provide makes you feel empowered but it's only manipulating you further into their own aspirations--they look like a hero for doing it --again they produce the overestimations of fear where they want while staying silent to what they wish for you to neglect. Whether it’s the government, a conspiracy theorist or a manipulating relationship partner be attuned to how we process information and the susceptibility to manipulation (overestiamation-underestimation). Although not every situation is a source of manipulation from others it would be unwise to neglect the fact that our own emotions can lead us to these same ignorances all by our selves. I give glory and honor to my Savior Jesus Christ for this knowledge in which Faith in Him alone helps me discern and weight the emotional information and there intentions

Ignorances innate wove curtain of veils
Cut usunder heretofore obscuring
Bodhicittas valedictory wintry gloom torn
Of enlightenments will factioning the
Silenced mammonish city kingdom truced
As the wings of Azrael clinch
Earthly thistles; monolithic raiments
Deposed Hull, Hell and Halifax parcae
The willowing of light unfettering Fenrirs
Durance, howling aconite psalms suspiring
Suffrage relict paving with mewed stars
Redemptions tithed talents bequeathed
Of Heavens sinister prayer burning
Acinta dusts thine ashes threading
The wilful sword of Gods destruction.


ELEETE J MUIR.

twinkle wrinkles, seen close up

they are the tracks of wind driven tears on a sunburned face,
at the edges of the eye,
past
the per if ery of what perfidy* made you think you saw.

come see how come we saw too far and fell from grace to glory.

That is the story.
The good new on the old new built bottom up,
like Gobekli-Tepi.

--- horizons past the lusters after
wisdom's arcane quarry ---

we live,
we learn, we die to know why and we do
as soon as forever starts

it never stopped, hence, forever is what we agree it is.

This, now we remain in until we die, moments from now,
then, now
breathe
or don't

ultimately, whence comes the will to breathe?
go on, answer.

or ignor, innocence is no excuse, you know.

these quest ions all have positive and negative points,
anionics seek cationics,

OHOH, what if cathode rays never got past the atmosphere,
those are causing all the static-info-friction

Bad vibe waves corrupting the qualcommsplitfreqs,
left from millions of hours of I love Lucy and
Dobie Gillis. Mr. Kruschev, build a wall.
Show our boys their counterparts failing to escape,
crucified on barbed wire west of the Brandenburg Gate,

Bel's gate, arche de tri'umph, eh? Confusion won the war,

but war won't work here. NULL ified it, we did, into the NULL with all its lies each time

we catch one. As good as never was.


*Poet's Policy of acknowledging previous ignorances,
acts of ignoring
resulting, effectively, in wasted years
perfidy (n.) means since
1590s, from Middle French perfidie (16c.), from Latin perfidia
 "faithlessness, falsehood, treachery,"
from perfidus"faithless,"
from phrase per fidem decipere 
"to deceive through trustingness,"
from per "through"
(from PIE root *per- (1) "forward," hence "through") + fidem (nominative fides) "faith" (from PIE root *bheidh- "to trust, confide, persuade").

[C]ombinations of wickedness would overwhelm the world by the advantage which licentious principles afford, did not those who have long practiced perfidy grow faithless to each other. [Samuel Johnson, "Life of Waller"]

From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/perfidy#etymonlinev12685>

Menopausal women gather under the tall elms
in a green sward of cooling breezes
Nearby the rushing river is so a-tonally melodic now
As they forgive their ignorances, their mistakes
Their dilatory dreams, their half-steps that backlashed

Their quenchless unseen fire now
the consoling measure of their days
of their secret songs
knowing for those who need,
nothing dies

Godliness, can we imagine what that means?
can we a gree,
groupup on a time be
ing
transformed, ah, aitia!
a cause accuse,
have you considered my servant, Faust?

Why now

of all times

am I alived again? Who axed me how

Godliness, with contentment, is great gain?
When did yo'rever begin?

You play Sorry? Y'know how you land at
the right spot and
that makes the time right
to gain more than your role allows

by the rules.
Rules is tools t' keep yer atmostfears from

sending out fruiting bodies,
after the icecaps of ignorances melt.

This is one o'them Sorry places,
in reality.

Never since water recalls, though, now
I recall reading of another water
we have, ringwoodite, those memories are
petrified,
who could think 'em? Chthonic radicals from
trees of knowledge
espelliered to the western wall, while growing

free in forests, wild, whither the wind listeth, and rain falls.
listen,
Jeremiah wrote,

can you hear me now?

Earth, Earth!
Godliness, with contentment, is great gain?
Weeping Prophet?

Wouldn't you?
Timebum-
pto whenever this was first sung
Don't take yer guns t'town, son.
Leave yer guns at home...

Awake at my wake, what a gas,
all wrapped in white linen beyond the ripped drape
no curtain betwixt e certainty and me

but just a glimpse.

One time, I saw a her, an animus of a salvaged sort,

reporting a he I thought was me, was
continuing to fall,

claiming penance for vengance and **** and harsh words.
Lies, most of all...

She came in clad mit rainbows, like an angel in the Bible.
You never noticed those?
Messengers of mercy.
They're all naked, except for light,

how did you not notice those?

Jungians tend to invest heavily in dreams,
turns out,
in the long run,
by mortal measure,

dreams hold meaning longer than

wishes never letgo so far for fear o'
madness o'the Bed'lamic sort

quenching this little light, which

... can't be in dark
no light is in dark

thin light ai'n't no light. Here we are,

this light is all around about me, say

Ah,
it's in me
aitia,
once more, shall we. Give it a spin,

imagine dreaming forever of new and inter'string things,
without dying or being worthless.

Be content imaging that. Great gain. Okeh.
Act like you know forever started some time ago
and you are a character, a named character,
with archetypical friends,
in the live production of the famed Book of Life,

"Life, as much as we can aspire to"
Title pending final cast conspiracy. You're the star.

I miss you
like the tree and the leaf.

It is inconceivable
that I have been given to you
and you to me
without the generosity of fate.

i thought you were
just a pretty white girl
and my ignorances
was dashed
upon the rocks
by your voice of freedom.

nature could not conceive
of a purity of a secretive love
more than you
have given to me.

There are a lot of yous
in the world,
and yet there are none.

I have tried to propagate
the same seed
in you
as I have
in black girls,
puerto rican
and irish
that I loved
who fell for my rico suave ****
so easily.

And that is not to say that
you are as easily
enforced
by the landscapers
of love
as them.

Love is love,
but I have not
felt a seed so
irrevocably
as your seed
that burns
the root
so easily.

And in me,
I have never felt so crazed
because i have learned the bias
of flesh
that wraps my heart
deeper than your skin.

Trust me
in the depiction
that I have
constantly visited,
that your flesh
is numberless;
your cheeks
so
fleckless
yet with so many scars.

I can eat a thousand
worms in a day,
I can devour
the whole of the earth
with the roots
of a player.

But there are girls
and there are women,
there are leaves
and there are seeds.

The leaves browning
in autumn,
the seeds giving in spring.

And the colorless
gender
of night
knows no bounds,
because there is not a race of love
but an insanity
of love.

So to the black girls,
white girls,
puerto rican
and italian
that I have loved,
I am not color-blind
but blind
in the dank night
humid
as your voice
with no name,
no race,
no label,
no gender,
no reputation.

I wanted to say so many things to her but couldn't.
The words would stick in my throat and I would choke on them.
I'd struggle to set them free but only my own insecurities and ignorances would manage to escape,
filling the air between us with a vile lexicon that made the simple act of communication null.
I wanted to tell her that her intelligence gave me a taste of the universe,
that her beauty was the ache that every ancient poem was written about.
I wanted to tell her that she was flawless
and when she would argue I would say there are no such things as flaws,
only traits that others can't appreciate.
I wanted her to know that someone out in the world saw her for her
even when she felt no one could.
I wanted to say so many things to her
but couldn't,
the words were stuck in my throat.

You were found in my ignorances

The things I chose not to see in myself,
you found in me

This contagious, spontaneous, fun house walk-through, reflecting only the compassionate parts of us two

They say we’re so selfishly rational,
and so modernly savage.
A plague thats scale is international,
and makes us easy to manage.  

Some say we’re predictably irrational.
I’m more inclined to believe this.
Patterns in chaos,  lead by morale.
Decisions made in ignorances bliss.

When it all calls
But no one is present to answer
Because they're fast asleep
Within their beds of blissful ignorances
As time gently closes the door
On their smiling countenances
Forever within the peace
Of their love's slumbering hearts

Where's your soul
Couldn't you just
Let down your walls
Have you forgotten
Or am I forbidden
The lack of knowing
Ignorances bitter taste
Where's the shovel
I'm digging my way in
It's cold out here
I can feel your warmth
Begging to come out
I want your warmth
I'll take it as my own
Through blood
Whoever it lies
I will find it

At the Golden glorious gates of Heaven stand I,
In meek merit and weakness divine, unable to enter.
Looking in at the white and red, and ample boughs,
Trembling with fear: feverish with desire of thought.

Approach I the glimmering constant gates,
Wrought out of my being and fibres.
My weakness and strength, my thoughts and ignorances'
And moulded in my lacks, and my fire and awe
Rings out in defiance and mockery of myself
but it echoes my heralds and welcomes my approach.

Ô mon Dieu, vous m'avez blessé d'amour

Et la blessure est encore vibrante,

Ô mon Dieu, vous m'avez blessé d'amour.


Ô mon Dieu, votre crainte m'a frappé

Et la brûlure est encor là qui tonne,

Ô mon Dieu, votre crainte m'a frappé.


Ô mon Dieu, j'ai connu que tout est vil

Et votre gloire en moi s'est installée,

Ô mon Dieu, j'ai connu que tout est vil.


Noyez mon âme aux flots de votre Vin,

Fondez ma vie au Pain de votre table,

Noyez mon âme aux flots de votre Vin.


Voici mon sang que je n'ai pas versé,

Voici ma chair indigne de souffrance,

Voici mon sang que je n'ai pas versé.


Voici mon front qui n'a pu que rougir,

Pour l'escabeau de vos pieds adorables,

Voici mon front qui n'a pu que rougir.


Voici mes mains qui n'ont pas travaillé,

Pour les charbons ardents et l'encens rare,

Voici mes mains qui n'ont pas travaillé.


Voici mon coeur qui n'a battu qu'en vain,

Pour palpiter aux ronces du Calvaire,

Voici mon coeur qui n'a battu qu'en vain.


Voici mes pieds, frivoles voyageurs,

Pour accourir au cri de votre grâce,

Voici mes pieds, frivoles voyageurs.


Voici ma voix, bruit maussade et menteur,

Pour les reproches de la Pénitence,

Voici ma voix, bruit maussade et menteur.


Voici mes yeux, luminaires d'erreur,

Pour être éteints aux pleurs de la prière,

Voici mes yeux, luminaires d'erreur.


Hélas ! Vous, Dieu d'offrande et de pardon,

Quel est le puits de mon ingratitude,

Hélas ! Vous, Dieu d'offrande et de pardon,


Dieu de terreur et Dieu de sainteté,

Hélas ! ce noir abîme de mon crime,

Dieu de terreur et Dieu de sainteté,


Vous, Dieu de paix, de joie et de bonheur,

Toutes mes peurs, toutes mes ignorances,

Vous, Dieu de paix, de joie et de bonheur,


Vous connaissez tout cela, tout cela,

Et que je suis plus pauvre que personne,

Vous connaissez tout cela, tout cela,


Mais ce que j'ai, mon Dieu, je vous le donne.

She doesn't blame him
For whatever has happened
She doesn't blame him
For being heartbroken
Cause she was the foolish one
The mad one, the crazy one

It's her fault for trusting again
After being broken hundred times
It's her fault for hoping
To be understood even after
So many ignorances

She realizes everyday
How blind she was not to see
His selfish love, his needy deeds
And regrets about
Judgeing everything through
His eyes, being in his shoes
And not from her own

But today, deep down she is happy
Cause after stopping to love him
She started to love herself
After stopping seeing him
She started to care herself
After stepping out of his world
She got to see the real world
Now she will be there for herself
And will have no broken promises
Will have no heart in pain
Every effort will be given at its best
Every word spoken will be truth
Cause now she is in love with herself
And this will be the
'Best love story ever'

I do not bow, of these different kinds of social constructions and
With the artificial functions exampled "extera mortis"
Lets shift
And for some a more familiar substantive kind of use or example
Between definition and rationality
Social elsewhere and projective
Can be plush excepting our attributes
Entwined affects externalizations of being spiritual
Yet individuals, combinations, between punishable then thrown
Follow some complications even acts confused as Holier than thou
Find an anchorage started by a path, a faith, a cause
To be masked or within a home of truths. let us ease each
Who may be sent East to their harvest or
West to find spices and joy industrious
Ignorances, body, trellis, enochlophobia, passive gardens of bemusements
Who stakes these claims?
What Id controls the ultimate devious justified externalizations?
A behavior, exemplars, shall we greet in this revelation with askance
No!
Perhaps simply the same self a sentinel daily
Confronts so demeaning a demon that strikes each day.
Witness metals magics the one true choice of freedoms and pride
Glorious saying in the end we are all much the same
Did not these social confusions have distaste
With you the truth
Before leaving town did not Bob confide