Nepal
The fourth poorest country

The Gurkah Welfare Trust
Installs fountains in the mountains
To help the poor Nepalese people
The water near the village is contaminated
So they had to walk 8 miles to fetch clean water

Thanks to the Gurkah welfare trust
There are fountains that provide clean water

"It is better to die than to be a coward"
That is the motto of the Gurkah fighter

After one year in the British Army
The Gurkahs put on a stone of muscle in weight

Why do the Gurkahs agree to die for the British crown?

It's simple The Gurkah says,
"We've eaten your rations, we've eaten your salt.
The obligation is binding."

Compartmentalized;

..An elevated view  of you
shows booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,

.. after booth, after booth
   Each one  partitioned  with

an impenetrable  curtain
hanging off of  a bone-frame
stainless steel  pipe structure,
Built high enough  for the
different parts  of you
to sense, but not   feel..

what part of you
is in the other booth.

   Problem is,

You want and expect
me to orbit around it all
as if each isolated part
   is,  in itself..
actually the whole you..
when I know it is  only
a  tremendously-lonely
    part of the whole.
And you take love  to be
some form of blindness
  on my part

--to the elephant in the room,
And I tell you I love you..
And I tell you,  

               "No.. I won't do it"

--And your shame  kicks in
causing you to  feel
     I'm too harsh..

        or being judgemental.

Yet all along, you are knowing--
That just a few moments  with me..
and the walls come tumbling down.
   .          .          .          .         .          .          

When the partitions  drop
(that is your terror)
(that is your horror)
You will not annihilate
into a million fragments  
   of nothingness

The you(s)..  of you
will meet one another
for the very first time
since you were first  dismembered
(fragmented, so very long ago.)
You will not  disintegrate, love..

You will  Re- integrate.

Love does that.  It does.
But you already know that.
Yet still you hide (.. from me.)


You are addicted  to the 'comfort'
the partitions's isolation brings.
Your relationship is not with
the sum of the parts  as a whole..
but with the internal  "construct"  within you--
  the chasm..  the gap..  

--the empty space between those parts;
as it uninstalls one part of the intricate you
and re-installs the next

And you have no idea   how to
   orchestrate
the many different parts  of you
   like a conductor would do
   with his orchestra..   therefore,

You can only be in relationship
with one part of yourself at a time--
..Each partitioned  'self'
has an e-mail address
Each one  has
a separate account  of its own..
Each one,  within itself..   convinced
that it carries within itself
its own, separate genetic imprint

Each one,  you can  milk  
within its incompleteness
     as if it in itself,   is complete--
    .. Flaunting it, flaunting it;  
    as though it is the complete you
  while all other necessary  parts of the whole
  remain dangerously dormant..
   --being Unholy-ghosted  by

    whatever currently-visible part of you
    now  has control of the ship.


--And throughout the years
I am expected to weather the storm
and gather  pieces,  from pieces..
and then magically (oh.. I can..)
piece them all together as I speak to you
without you having to even  feel
the tension (absurdity)  of the
mis-placed  accountability
   (and responsibility)
    to enter into love
    as a Whole (the sum of many parts)

And so here I am..  orbiting    
    orbiting  orbiting--
around your ever-changing  mood swings;
        the   "Paul-is-good,"  one day
        and  "Paul-is-bad,"  the next,
       (those ever-changing perspectives,
       gaslighting.. gaslighting.. gaslighting)
   --in order that you might  remain   'the same'
   based on whatever current-visible  part of you
   is currently at the helm..

       The current pilot of the ship
       wholly unaware of the leadership styles,
       opinions and views of that  of the last.  
Harsh sounding.. I know..
(but you know..)

And so, here's the rub--

You are feeling your days
to be numbered..
You have been around me
too long, love.
(that is your fault)   You knew.

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4159831/tourniquet-smiles-yeah-that/

I wrote that  such a long time ago


We are getting closer to Home, love.
I wrote this strange little ditty
before I wrote that other one..

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3383529/fragments/

What you have feared  most
has now given way
to the sound of inevitability

   (You should have ran
             ..but you didn't.)


..The sound of inevitability
 isn't really a sound at all..

..It is the  sound of you  still
  standing there.❤

Up from the deeps of darkest corners
my soul sees lightning
then hears a call
and as long fingers of love begin falling
from shivery heights
they start to distill
love's sweet nectar so I may be fulfilled.

A far ether-star loads and then installs
me in new time with
such awesome
style, my sky-boat takes its mooring
to line's full length
as now it hates
any but non-ventured high places.

Whimsy eats into my all-white awning,
because the grey cloud
which was on shore
has floated away, and the tallest
of rainbows is colouring
the past
out of my eyes, at long long last.

Just the other day,
Was it Tuesday?
Or maybe Wednesday?
I was told that I
'Have the most beautiful smile'
I forced a small laugh,
told her thank you
and walked away.
. . .
I believe now,
that she is unaware,
one smiles with their eyes,
with an opened upturned mouth,
one hides behind lies,
installs false meaning
unto others.
. . .
My teeth are straight,
and my face twists and turns,
in all the right places
but my eyes,
my radiant, distant,
frightened, faraway eyes
they're a dead give away.
. . .
With the secrets they hold
and the fears they can't hide,
had she shifted her gaze unto mine,
maybe then I'd have been told,
that I,
'Have the most beautiful eyes'

I pondered
if there is more to pain?
the installs jabbered to me
the counselor of pain trounced my love
I reasoned
if there is more to pain?
would the pain ever end?

The time draws nearer,
The end of the beginning
Looms over the horizon
Speeding ever closer.

Fatigue installs within
And reigns times in time
My impetus shares the throne
Several total confidence.

When the end is here,
Where will the beginning be?
My conscious proves nervous
In times of eternity.

I imagine then
At the end of the end
When it comes
I'll exist alone.

They rush forward to try and destroy me,
yet I cut them down.
The horses and men charge to try and flank me,
yet I mow them down.
I am fed belts of bullets which I spit out at speed.
My chatter installs fear into the enemy
I am a new type of weapon that has changed warfare forever.

With her by your side, and yours by her brow
A Summer's Day Film we can both agree
Though this I lack; Be un-promised for now
My Wing-Fingered Life sheds yours to be Free
So by this Hour the Sun-God installs
And flips his Countenance with that of Yule
So now it's the Season; And crispy leaves fall
Remind her of Age and Faces a-new
Now. She is yours. Dig deeply onto her
Leave no Restraints. Absorb her Essense bloom
For shrill delight your Tan-Shine's price confer
And Angel the New Name makes for New Room.
Such Picnic, then, was worth your scented fun
Cross her Lips with yours; And ignite the Sun.

Showering undoubtful love.
With eyes filled of pride.
He voices admiration about us,
He embeds ambition within us.

Strong willed.
The epitome of a hard worker.
He constantly picks himself to give to us,
He wages war to support us.

The key to the past,
Reciting history about family.
He shows the importance of kinship to us,
He ingrains the significance of affinity within us.

A shoulder.
A hand.
He is a monument to stabilize us,
He is a beacon to show the way for us.

Full of laughter.
Patron of jokes.
He lights up the room for us,
He roots humor within us

A storyteller.
A dreamer.
He installs creativity within us,
He exemplifies wonder for us.

The Year Was 2017... Globalization and Relocation thru Financial Incentives had been occurring at an Increasingly Rapid Rate...for 4 years
Human Sorting thru the Spheres Program had accelerated, and Talent Acquisition and Identification was Rampant in the Building of Ministry States, and Six Nation Civil/ Financial  Armies....
Ownership of Brick and Mortar Businesses in Each Free Country by Aggressive Interests Had become Maximized
Psychological War had been expanded

Martial Law Is Declared:
      in the event Civil War Breaks out...
     1) physical fitness at military Grade necessary
     2) able to read color based code and signage without computer
          - Rank and Order; For the purpose of Martial Law Leadership Positions/ Ruling Standard: Royal Dictatorship
         - Order of Social Value in the event of Planet Drought and Overheating, Mass starvation
         - Human Potential Project Government assisted for rapid acceleration of Skill to combat business collapse, acceleration pop Intuition and Physic listening ability
         - Disaster Training  and Skills organized
          - Passing of Fake Wills and................... for redistribution of Wealth
          - Fake......., wikipedia installs, and Search engine Lies to alter World Voting Perceptions for Tech  endorsed candidates in UN positions
        - Fake NGO's ,  Subject Matter Expertise Areas based in Branding and advertising as Influencers,  
          Conflict of Interest Rampant throughout; Corruption Widespread,
Secret Hostile Foreign Influence mixed with Oneness Agenda of Globalists
         Interference with mail (taken over by Foreign interests
          - arranged ****** partnerships/marriages for maximum efficiency of family structure in loss of familiar Central Government, increase of wellness and rabid growth of NEW potentials

Prepare: physically fit, for operation
                 eat organic foods
                Elliminate all debt, minimize expenses
                ORDER, reduce clutter, attachments
                ID primary relationships
        

              At Risk: Forests, Farmlands, National Parks, Utilities, Water
              At risk: Cultural Artifacts(Psychological War Target)
              At Risk: Kids of Philanthropists, Leadership
              At Risk: Family Businesses
              At Risk: Planet, All Life

I break into pieces
so
she rebuilds me
refills me
and
installs in me
a new operating
system.

Biro the brave heart,
liberated the wasted words,
that layed lifeless on the rippled land of paper,
imprisoned and not found.

Words that have been fed with feeble fever,
swollen from the neglect injected into its letter limbs.
Neglect from the puzzle prime minister.

But biro the brave heart pen,
together with the motion from his noble ‘hand’ steed,
slowly walking around each word,
in a captivating circle,
made out of incentive ink.

The circle of meaningful medicine,
that cures the words emptiness,
and installs a ventilator
so, it can breathe value.

Words that are ready to breathe value,
the words I am looking for so,
that my figure of speech is finally alive.

Justine Louisy

Copyright © Justine Louisy 2020
All Rights Reserved

Dear spring,

Why won't you rise again
So that we can feel the embrace of
All things reborn

We know that you are weak
From being beaten to a pulp
By winters gnarly clutches
But that doesn't mean that you can't
show a little love and compassion

So spread your wings
And let the happiness spread
Spread it far and wide
Let your presence be known

Let sweet air tingle those who still live
And let the sweet pungent air
Of the flowers refresh the air

Let the flowers rise
Through the bedrock
Through the dirt
Through the leftover snow
Let your power show

Bring back what once was there
But had ceased to now
Clear all the snow

And let your hands put green on the ground
And blue in the skies
For it is you that installs hope in us

Writing is soliloquy
Manifesting itself
Into forms
More discernible
To senses
Of other
Conscious beings
Constructs seemingly
Of meaning
Deemed linguistically
For sure
And it graffitis on the wall
It still installs you in the store
And in contemporary
Swarms
Of trending-bending
Social norms
It still discordantly
Offends
Impends the galvanizing
Storms
And be assured
It will preserve us
Rise to serve us
When we’re nervous
And reverberate
Eternally
To verbalize
Discursive

Now the dark
ripples in

charcoal black
silent waves

and we are
christened by

the eclipse
mute motion

like a swallowing
gloomy deluge

but only
the day’s cessation

skin shed
installs night

brings end
to start again

O narcissist, would you go
above the moon, if I want to sleep
in the flames of invisible stars?

Who gives light without
pregnancy to new gods and installs
aerial temples of broken hearts?

The killing has a moon
face. I will bring corn fever to
gnaw the legs of falling truths.

O narcissist, would you go
above the moon, if I want to sleep
in the flames of invisible stars?

Who gives light without
pregnancy to new gods and installs
aerial temples of broken hearts?

The killing has a moon
face. I will bring corn fever to
gnaw the legs of falling truths.

There is a certain kind
Of laziness, of apathy,
Which contaminates
Bones, muscles, tissues,
Rendering physics useless,
Psychology whines,
Neurology cries,
A vacuum installs
And curiosity fades,
Our countenance betrays
The deadly inertia carried
For reasons yet to be understand,
Held against what we are unaware,
And the very passage of time,
Countless seconds stinging
Where we sense the passing hours.

Maybe it's the death of a supermassive star,
Maybe just a lost bug carried by the wind,
Maybe there is no reasonable cause.
It all depends on what answer
You are trying to observe.

Let us not be wed
By clergy's verbal fog
Or through the fiction of State's seal
Neither of which ensures
Love's appeal
Let us not get hitched at all
For Love despises chains
Let us just ride
On waves of faithfulness
Free of promise, paper and point
Let us run wild and glide
Over the fence of freedom
That custom installs
The clandestine halls
Awaiting our trespass
To celebrate the union
Of a witch and a sorcerer
Of two rebel souls.

THE TWO HALVES

I love what joins and brings two near
And makes them live in closest sphere.
I love *** as it joins two souls
And makes them one that love installs.

How great is *** when it joins two
And gives them deep love nice and true,
Not for a period, but for life
And even in the afterlife.

Each completes what the other lacks,
And both reach highest secure ranks
Where they feel complete by themselves
And nothing lacks for which man strives.

Each forms a half whose heart much yearns
To quench its thirst whose heat it burns
Till he encounters his lost half,
Leaves all and finds that half's enough.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________