No we're not learning about inventors.
No we're not learning about scientists.
If we were, that would be great,
But we're not,
Instead we're learning about lying thieves,
And overrated ones at that.
We should be learning about real inventors,
That didn't steal ideas from others,
And were lucky enough not to have ideas stolen from them,
Like George Westinghouse.
We should be learning about real inventors,
And real scientists,
That sadly went unrecognized,
Because their ideas were stolen,
By so called inventors,
That were in reality total jerks,
Like Nikola Tesla,
And Rosalind Franklin.
However, instead of learning about true inventors like them,
We're learning about the likes of Thomas Edison,
Guglielmo Marconi,
James Watson,
And Francis Crick.
Here's a "fun fact" about Thomas Edison,
He promised Nikola Tesla 50 grand,
In exchange for fixing his machines.
However, when Nikola Tesla was finished,
Several months later,
He not only didn't pay Tesla,
He mocked him for asking,
He said that he was joking,
And according to some, he was offered a raise of 10 dollars
According to others, he asked for a raise, and was denied it,
Either way, Tesla quit.
Here's a "fun fact" about Guglielmo Marconi,
He didn't invent the radio,
Nikola Tesla did.
However, Marconi pulled an Edison,
And stole Tesla's invention from him.
Luckily, although sadly too late,
Tesla was rewarded the patent.
Here's a "fun fact" about James Watson and Francis Crick,
They took credit for Franklin's discovery.
Why do we have to sit in social studies,
Listening to Youtube videos,
And reading books,
And doing plays,
That people created for school kids,
About so called inventors.
When instead,
We could be reading books,
Listening to Youtube videos,
And doing plays,
That we created ourselves,
About real inventors.
I want to get a real education.
I want to learn about the truth,
Instead of lies.
So please teachers,
Principals,
Superintendents,
Common Core Professionals,
State Test Professionals,
Please let us learn about the truth,
Please don't make us learn about lies.

Inventor Sam invented a life
Full of bright and sunny days
With clouds in the sky, peacefully passing on by,
And beautiful birds singing in all sorts of nice ways.

Inventor Sam, with a wave of his little right hand,
Invented mountains that reached up towards the stars
And with a wave and a flick, in an instant, quite quick,
He made rivers and valleys stretched out afar.

Inventor Sam, what a grand little man,
Invented some animals too
He called them Zebras, Giraffes, and Orangutans
Even people like me and like you

Inventor Sam then sat back to enjoy all that he made
But he noticed that something was missing
Not apples, nor reindeer, nor trees and their cool shade
Not eagles, nor bananas, nor snakes and their hissing

Inventor Sam looked closely at the animals that stuck out
Those on two legs, with little hair and one tiny snout,
They walked aimlessly around with no purpose at all
Stiff legged and hollow like fragile china dolls

Inventor Sam then sat up with a smile on his face
For he knew what would be his very last application
With a wave of both arms, and lightning for effect
He made people Inventors with their very own imagination.

-BPW  12/27/2013

Being cared for
Here's the  adored door

Inside playing he pours the hearts

So like him the ricochet
Deeply love so cultured
My pearl crochet

Deeply cared about I got you
under my skin
I win your love ticket

The spool of
wool hit the floor
To the extreme
The sensitive mind

  And his feeling like the escapee finding
the higher
religion keeping that in mind
The everlasting  to be cared for or
not to be never lasting like someone
lost its hunger fasting

Waking up deeply recharged or
reproducing to
her neverending fairytale

Much deeper than 69 eye love shades
Deeply cared for beyond his loving
It comes and fades
Like Monopoly  "Godly Sun-Seeker" keeps
passing us
The game of life charades
Like Persian babies their
button nose deeply cared for to cuddle
The warmest meows hug and save

Like flour to sparkle, it deepens
like our mix, a love needs
to be worked on 
 do you really
care to fix?

But sending all the details
the lines soften pale pink rose
I felt your red fire putting
out the coldness fire and ice
To be saved on time
Like the fire chief,  
Acted like a French chef what
a love roue of the hose

Like silk my millennium  milk,
He held my finger but not
to sulk he said buckle up
What firmness and tightness
arm to arm wrestler such
bulk

Never to swear but a little lie 
  Wouldnt hurt my delicate
pinky finger
In her loop with her fur
deeply
Stepped into her mink

He's the frontman
Fresh cut lemon
Yellow sunshine
happy medium

I was wearing my hair middle parted
The picture slide the made man
Tied back my hair was deeply
Smooth talker well conditioned
With what conditions all recollections
But three strikes when you care for
someone you  don't fall out of love

  This world loves to be pampered
Cared about not scouted
All hole marks in the road badly routed
 With tons of work with the question mark?
The sign stayed with her
Deeply care about?

Like a play date let's pretend
You're both a handful
Like beer malt lips
Engraved love in the barrels
To feel deeply loved  he acted
Like the riddler

The beach her eyes were waiting to be reached
Sunset playing the fool marionette overly preached

So I  Bette
Beneath her wings
In the middle of their wed to be isles
The Green Gables emerald rings

Miss spinster-Sara Lee cake
His jeep was all she could take
How it ended up
In Greenwich Village then shipped
To Mystic Seaport Connecticut
The movie cut Cape Cod Massachusetts
The four letters in his pocket
Deeply 1 care 2 about 3 love 4

Needed a jump kickstart
Her breakfast  start of the day
 deeply cared for his way
He stumped over her honey
bunches of oats lips

The website
Go, Daddy acting love silly
The hot fun in the
International city
The UK that's OK
Mr. Bo Jangles spoiled deeply
*** in the City single
Deeply getting hurt
The Sin City

Did he see her progress
All over Twitter
He was so suited but lost
his tie twinkle tweets
Do I really live my life to dare
or deeply care?
I am ****** British give me
my English breakfast teas
for keeps
The King ain't got that swing
She acts too much like the Queen

The Royalty of love sanity
The heaping fine grain sugar spoon

(Duke of Earl gray) Deeply love Thee
But always came way too soon
She is the domestic cat going frantic

Great discoveries, and that's that
  Internships tug-cash or the hogwash
our colleagues  
The deep end "Crazy Eights
On the tenth physio natural
phenomena convent

All the Kingman no swords holding her
wrench
and knight horses unfortunate events
One day creation camel ride for miles
Reaching higher levels of toxins
and morons
Or teaching MLM  you asked for it
"The millionaire lost minds"

Were human TLC tender loving care
Like some playdough to the rooftop
Of Mentors, did they care
Who we deeply care about family
But more concerned
about the rise of money inventors
Even if life really *****
Oh! Fiddlesticks

The Moaning of life
Bring the Idiots aboard
The ***** of the night

He kinda ducks by the end of
your ***-light
Flex-body deeply cared for
Rumors and all philosophies
The shower like you was slashed
Left you bone dry without the cash
The thrill is gone your lovesick

She-devil  coffin red nails split Twilight zone

  The stars were in your corner
He deeply cared for you he was
your health kit
The Botanical Gardens

Like a figment of your imagination
Se demure you needed a
Florence Nightingale flower cure
To lift your depression to smile
You thought someone cared but all
misinterpretations

All misconceptions and misdemeanors
She takes so long putting on her
French lip glide Chanel liner
What could be ever cared for finer
Deeply digging holes like a miner

The solar rhythmic pointed finger
to the stars

So systematically
making a wish
just like everyone else
To plan your game
the game makes the plan
You deeply cared for delivery
Was I the care package

You weren't someone
just anybody like
A city dump garbage

Deeply wanting and waiting
So merely or rarely was it coming

Deeply seeing the next generation
The spectacular sunrise
White wicker twin set swing
Your heart pulls back but it was
so close to swinging forward
Moving towards your
accomplishments
The mess was all ****

"You have the exceptional mind like the beautiful mind"

People, you came across friends
Also, contributors  not the enemies
The country and the continents
Deeply cared for landmarks
The monuments how you love
her birthmark taking her hand

The Godly land such will command
moonwalker deeply cared for
All watered deep soul of lovers
The world of hands and
words became
such an impact

You felt like the creature so extinct

Spheres floating in the chilly dark,
white and fluffy,
vain and uncorrupted.
They act as the air
being both here and never
there;
they act as the heavens,
little shining points floating
in a sea of black.
Islands so pure
floating in a nightmare sea--
how I abhorr their isolation,
their pure and careless
floating
though I, too, am alone.
Adrift in a sea of
introspective mutterings and
the utterings of a mind entrapped,
I sail the dark and simpering seas
of the Universe.
My vessel is a snowflake,
a crystalline craft carrying me
through the synapses and
nervous connections
of the thinking brain.
How infinite is the mind,
how wondrous is the world,
an immensity unto itself and
yet so tiny and contained.
I have never seen the ruins of China,
the fallen columns of the Romans nor
the ancient halls of the Al-Hambra.
I shall never see the samurai in bloom,
arranging flowers and painting
pictures of naked women
haunting their snowflake mind.
I shall never construct the
anonymous clockwork of Archimedes
but rather be trapped in the mechanisms
of the modern machine.
Adrift,
my confusion,
my blind anger and hatred of fate and
the gravity that pulls the snowflake ever closer to the ground
is pure vanity and self illusion.
Do the archways of Troy or
the mathematics of India
make us any larger in size
when compared to the Universe?
How can a snowflake
measure infinity?
What Universes exist
within the frozen ice of a snowflake,
what wars and great romances have played out
within the crystals;
what gods have been erected,
what nations have coalesced from the ashes
within the molecules and atoms
crafted by the cold
and the senseless flow of water?
The myriad explorers,
philosophers,
inventors,
geniuses lost to the ages
have mapped out the physical
while still being blind to the
finite world around them.
They sailed the Universe's
inky oceans of unknown,
their mind's sails billowing white,
puffy and hopeful
as they drifted off the edge of the known.
How they wriggled and rolled
so miraculously through the dark,
snowflakes floating carelessly
creating the world out of necessity
and pure ingenuity.
What white specters might exist
in the libraries of old,
in the halls of Alexandria or
the melting *** of Baghdad?
Do they wish to leave me a message,
the snow that saunters down,
to build a city in my mind
and a home in my soul.
What thoughts were caught
by the ancient genius
floating carelessly
like snow falling
in the anonymous black
of night?
Like islands they stood
for the men sailing the unknown waters
to rest and read and
contemplate
for just a few moments longer.
Swallowed by the darkness,
layered on the ground,
the knowledge is lost
among the infinitely white expanse
and the all-consuming darkness
of the night.
I am lost
like a snowflake falling too fast
I am buried beneath
layers of snow.

A hand-shaped heritage,
it opened its huge palm
and waved at us,
welcoming us in
It made us farmers
It made us chefs
It made us factory workers
It made us business owners
and inventors
It gave us higher education
to dream taller and wider
It bridged the gap
between two peninsulas
to include everyone
It smiled upon me,
and patted me on the back
"Well done, lady poet
Well done"

Inventors of the past
Curators of the future
Writers, speakers, dreamers,
Teachers of great potential.

They have read, written,
Shared the bountiful food of wonder
-Unable to be conceived-
Only partially decoded

Who are we
To take the reigns of such magicians?
To think innovative thoughts,
To uncover precious words
hidden by the legendary dust of rustic times,
To transform, evolve,
bend the titanium frames
constructed by gifted architects,
To be new
Defiant, different
Right or wrong?

At any given moment, it seems there is a fashion week happening somewhere in the world - be it Sydney, Istanbul, Dubai, Seoul, Moscow, Toronto, Copenhagen or Lagos (to name a few).

But the latest entrant may be the most surprising: Silicon Valley.

Or, as the organisers style it: Silicon Valley Fashion Week?!.

The punctuation marks as part of the title are a self-aware nod to the incongruity of marrying the location, known for its allegiance to hoodies, Tevas and T-shirts, to a fashion event.

But that does not mean they are any less serious about its potential.

The three-day annual event, which finished its second turn over the weekend in San Francisco, bills itself as "part fashion show, part variety show, part trade show" and is open to the public, unlike the usual fashion industry events. This year, about 30 brands were featured and tickets, at US$20 (S$28), sold out, with about 500 people attending each day.

It was staged by Betabrand, a San Francisco company that builds its clothing catalogue by crowdsourcing design ideas and, after seeing which take off, crowdfunding the production of the prototypes to see which ones people will actually want to buy. Examples include a "mind the gap" blouse that stretches to fit the body's contours and a dress that uses a trademarked reflective material.

The event exists at the nexus of Burning Man, wearable technology and the Maker Movement, home of inventors, designers and other do-it-yourself types. Pebble Smartwatch presented a Smarthole Hoodie, a standard hoodie design with sleeves that extend over the thumbs and have a movable panel around the wrist to make gaining access to the company's device easier; and Tinsel offered headphones that can be worn as a necklace.

Alison Lewis, who holds a design and technology master's degree from Parsons School of Design in New York, showed three items: a lambskin leather handbag embedded with LED bulbs that can be rearranged in different patterns with an app; a T-shirt that does the same; and a dress with lights that undulate with the wearer's heartbeat.

"Technology is a tool. It's how we use it that's really exciting," she said. "We could have less clothing in our closets and have pieces that change and work with our moods and personalities on a daily basis."

Lewis has not had a chance to present her work in other fashion shows and, so far, she has not been able to mass-produce her items. She commended the fashion week as a place to experiment.

She was not the only designer struggling with the challenge of manufacturing what she displayed.

However, as wearables increasingly enter mainstream fashion, with designers from Ralph Lauren to Zac Posen dipping their creative toes into technology, the idea of clothing patterns controlled by apps, of drone delivery, and of customisation that allows - maybe even asks - its wearers to make a choice each and every day, seems less far-fetched and more like fashion's possible future.

Which, unlikely as it may be, puts the Silicon Valley event on the style front line.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/backless-formal-dresses | http://www.marieaustralia.com/red-formal-dresses

Running the gauntlet down Midchester Road,
A veritable suburb of Gleethorpes City,
You pass a line of house-castles
Of the well to do.

But don’t be fooled
By what you see,
For I know someone
Who lives there.

And he will tell you,
Of bountiful gardens
Stripped bare
And concreted over
So that families can park their fleets
Of expensive cars.

See those conservatory extensions
And widened pavements.
A lady poses,
Doing her best
To emulate the Kardashians.

Money attracts
No end of thugs
And dodgy dealers:
Swarming parasitic wasps
Around the honey ***.

Nights of drunken revellers
From the local pub:
Swaying from trees
And kicking cans about.
Boy racers tearing down the road,
Music systems booming
With a mindless
Moronic drumming.

“Where has reality gone?” asks
My despairing friend.
They have their money
Their riches,
Expensive toys
But few of them are Happy.

What happened to “Goodness” and virtue
And dreams of Utopia?
Where are the heroes
Inventors and creators?
Instead we have a world of celebrity,
In which true talent – even genius
Is ignored and undervalued.

“Where are we going?” my friend exclaims.
Things get worse and worse,
The world all in reverse.
For it’s “Unreal City”,
Far from pretty.

So have a think,
Don’t let yourself sink
Even further into the mire.
Just get real,
You know the deal,
It’s you I’m trying to inspire.

Paul Butters

© PB 2\8\2019

(with help from a bloke who lives in such a place. Same town as me).

It is the day I have been waiting for.
To meet my maker in human form, after delivering human uniforms
I have so much to tell you God
Ten years ago I lost my grandfather
so Creator Son Enjilou and now is it CALIEFAH, Can I call you Granfather?
I come from a world where I have contributed to the human consciousness and development
It was said when the angels took me in and declared me their soldier that the holders of money and big media and mining would not pay money to people like me who do good
It was said that people like me are  hardly ever acknowledged


I have so many friends back where I come from
they tell they love me
it's funny that on many ocassions they are the very ones who have been plotting to have me killed, working together with my family

They tell me I'm a star back on Earth, that I have so much money and that I have composed so much music and helped so many people
I have never seen my name on television but they tell me I've written stories
They tell me that when I turn 25 I will receive my wealth and be deemed Royal
However I was never too young to be stolen from
never too young to carry the baggage of the world
never too young to be killed
never too young to have my identity stolen
never too young to watch other men take credit for my work
never too young to watch my beloved's die
never too young to be lied to
or too old to be made the fool


In that world ruled by Darkness, wars are manufactured so the greedy can be richer and the wealthy more comfortable,
this pressure causes a strain and kills the human consciousness as a whole, when an elite group of individuals monopolize their sustenance through drinking the blood and energy of good and hard-working men and women
They tell you you're a hero there but no-one cares if you have bread on the day, a place to sleep, an income or money to get to a certain place
just as long as the aristocrats are comfortable in their seats, spreading ***, running drug cartels and destroying feminine energy through lust and abuse
through human trafficking and ***-slavery
If people felt the urge that is felt by the martyrs, the yajamanta, the  gladiators, the pilgrims and sages; then the world would change instantly

The selfishness of the leaders is unbelievable, the present progress of this makes many humans toddlers because they are constantly needing help more than helping themselves
it makes them parasites because they will sit down and wait for someone else to clean up their garbage
"I'll just keep ******* up and garbage boy will clean it up for me, anyway I'm late for Satan's church"
that's the reality
People fight for bonds and inheritance, killing and lying to each other to attain these material goods
They never find happiness because of this, they feed on the flesh so that them energy vampires
  they are burnt by the truth because they bathe in blood baths and still feel the injuries of the desolation of Mars
In this world, there are few people you can really and truly trust if any
because once they realize that there's someone you can trust; they go after him and bribe him or manipulate him
Truth be told if people were extremely hungry for Heaven they would probably find it in an hour
If they gave praise or directed their frequency of vibration embodied in Soul to God just as they do to their Lord Lucifer; the world would change in a day
   But people love Lucifer, they love being victims, staying on the ground after you've fallen, never learning from your mistakes
waking up after you realise that you've been sleeping
so and so on
At this, people then don't become soldiers and then fail to change their lives around
it starts with admitting that you've messed up doesn't it God?

So you ask me, do I have a bank account? Sure, but here they clone and sample everything so that way you never get to receive what you deserve
If these Fraternal members or tyrants really believed in god, every genius who dies protecting an idea would be compensated immediately, if they can access your personal data that quickly
   but that doesn't happen, you speak the truth and fight for your money consequent of the hard you've been doing, you get crucified
it seems to me, if they cannot pay these inventors their dues then they are more uncomfortable with watching these geniuses live and enjoy their money which they deserve
  So the real prisoners are the Emperors you see, they are not free from themselves
  and if supporters they are and truly love you then they'd appreciate what you stand for and they wouldn't love money more than they love what they stand for

So there is a huge pool of insecurity, and once ego dies then a long list of addictions and confusions also die
Humility is born, new worlds are discovered, old systems are replaced and there is a new meaning of life
Then perhaps artists will have a chance
their work won't be abused or spoiled and compromised
Then the Truth would Reconcile

The earth’s been our playground, beautiful and vast.
A utopian world on which the human race was cast.
In the sliver of time, we’ve been an industrial culture
We’ve preyed on her resources like a ravenous vulture.

A carnivore hunting for bigger and fatter game,
All in the guise of improving and seeking for fame.
Inventors create contraptions and devices,
Never bothering to notice how much smaller the ice is.

Carbon is aplenty, spewing forth in filthy emission
Ozone suffering from man with limited vision.
Many animals hunted to extinction, and more on the way
Ecologists fight to be heard, to government's policies sway

Our waters suffer abuse and lose their purity
Advances in culture, lend earth no security
Oil and garbage circle the earth killing the wildlife off it,
Inventions and efforts to save us, offer no profit.

Efforts must be made to lower and stop pollution  
All species soon will be dead without a solution.
Let’s work together and help clean mother earth.
What’s our future generations’ health really worth?

A partner we should be, and not a voracious parasite,
We are cognizant beings; we should know to do what’s right.
Love the earth, give back more than you take,
Do it now, do it fast, for our children’s sake.

The new american generation**

afraid to question their teachers
scared to stand out
not with different clothes but
with intellect and knowledge
the want to know more no longer exists
for it has been replaced by the want to fit in
histories inventors paved the way with sharing new ideas
we think getting called on to share ideas is torture
we complain saying the lords name in vain
they cannot see what God expects is us to try

i moved my ethnicity up north, because in the middle-south the squabbles got to me, even though i don't speak the tongue in order to order a cup of coffee or marry, i moved it up north, to the doom and gloom... because the squabbles down south got to me, and i couldn't identify with either factions - although i could identify with the Scots and whatever ancient heart bred them toward separatist labours - come the Scots, come the Irish - the sloth of this anatomic segregation is getting on my nerves.

the difference between european introversion and american
extroversion is that the former bases theirs on an implosion
that dates back to prehistory and the latter bases theirs
to a piece of paper, a second Magna Carta...
every european implodes - every american explodes -
yet our history is longer, and is less trade-orientated,
consider the slave trade versus Atilla the ***...
Europe is the new Russia as Russia is the new
Siberia to "the light of the world",
Europeans always seemed to be introverted
when compared to American big cars big hamburgers
big whatever esp. ego - we work from
a Darwinism, you work from creationist-antagonism,
sure, a man in space, a man on the moon,
any tomatoes up there, might i ask?
the world eternal between the competition with
Tsar Slav Nicholas I and Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse,
it's hard to make cartoons of Ivan to be honest,
what with him throwing dogs off the Kremlin walls
and gauging out the eyes of the architect of
St. Basil's because "god" / Ivan instructed him to
an oath: no greater beauty will ever be seen by these eyes -
hard to make a comedy of it all -
if anything i'm *Jan Matejko's  Stańczyk,
the exact melancholia of a clown, a fancy-dress mm-hmm-ha-ha-ha!
while noblemen frolicked, Louis XIV petted a monkey
while shaving - the new aristocracy and the intervention
of the south park inventors over there? i'd be Mormon
in a nanosecond - whatever science divides or
multiplies it's still base one: the whole - whatever profession
it's still back to square one, the fudge, the glue,
no one can work that one out, explore in whatever
direction you want, it's still the Kantian dynamic of
coordination via (0, 0), the double denial, its not
an algorithm - Manchester encoding, logic 1, logic 0,
forget the sine and cosine graphs of smooth
marbles and hidden genitalia - it's different now,
zigzag paradise and ugly shapes like Syria
and Iraq and Iowa - all we need for the antidote to
Kantian symbolism (0 = negation) is the zed of affirmation,
just one... wondering... what direction would that entail?
life, x as 0 and y as 0 - ageing and mortality, all too often
subscribing the words: death apparent, but there's a third
line of coordination, no memory of babe consciousness,
no memory of nappies or eating apple pulp...
that strikes me as a head start - the less adventurous world
and the emergence of the unconscious and dreaming
as the new frontier, not necessarily -
i like the head start, i don't like shuffling into cubicles
of cognitive sterilisation, in that Freud makes thinking
attached to dreaming on purpose - i read a newspaper
then i read a poem, with the former i'm constipated
with the latter i get diarrhoea... i don't like attaching too
much thought to the content of dreams,
but to dreams per se - how does my brain encrust a
phosphorescent adaptability to the banality of sleep?
surely the brain cares more for the unconscious banality
of the night than what people-self-invoke as a banality
of life - the serpent eating itself already answered,
the brain automatically said: sleep is banal, we need dreams.
the self, a conscious abstract of Σ (sum of all parts,
liver, kidney, limbs, heart etc.) didn't necessarily make one
up, unless it's called philosophy - the body in sleep
already answered, the brain's answer to the banality of
it's existence rested in sleep is the act of dreaming - simple
enough, no one would imagine sleeping without dreaming,
but that's the automatic answer for the brain and
the banality of sleeping, given the complexity of
learning, unlearning, encoding decoding, love, hate
in that internet of ******* connectivity -
so if the brain answered the question of the banality of sleep
(well, given the ****** heart mechanised to smack its
forehead against a brick wall, little wonder)
with dreams... what if not a nether-realm, a heaven
or a hell the brain envisions? surely...
it's inherent for the brain to envision a heaven and a hell
when Σ is awake... as it's inherent for the brain to envision
dreams when Σ is asleep... it's logic... it's not some
fancy for rituals -the point is: heaven and hell would not
exist if we didn't dream, void, blank, void, blank,
no Freud - if you can argue against the non-existence
of any of such realms, you will have to train yourself
to not dream, to exclude the dream-realm - but i don't
think your brain will be willing to do such censorship -
after all, it's a double-consciousness we're talking about,
the brain is conscious of you, and you are conscious of the brain;
it's odd, i know, it's the one ***** that has such parameters -
well, it's more conscious of a skeleton than you -
the skeleton is the one thing that is verifiable for the brain,
the brain can't intrude on the heart or the kidney functions,
but the skeleton is all a playground for the brain.

I think it's time for a conversation
about human beings an our imagination
Great inventors like in past days are rare
and it seems that society just doesn't care

So just what happened to free innovation
it's now controlled like a railway station
Some great ideas aren't being inspected
well inventors of hoovers are getting respected

If they can't control it they make it stall
as mankind's inventions could free us all
Letting them do it will be all our regret
Man made are we and we shouldn't forget!

© One man

Carve a picture of your face into the Halls of Time
Preserve yourself forevermore
In the history of humankind
OBEY -the Universal Law
DO WHAT THOU WILT - Harm Not
Scrape the sky with your canines
Make the people sing your name
Slave for no divine reward
And fear no eternal flame

Devil may care,
Live and let live
DO WHAT THOU WILT - Harm Not

We are a miraculous animal
Tricking ourselves into spurning our own gifts
Overcaffienated/Undersatisfied
Our eyes firmly planted
In the center of the sky
We've spent so long waiting for angels
No one remembers:
We Are Divine.

DO WHAT THOU WILT; Defend Thyself
DO WHAT THOU WILT; Indulge Thyself
DO WHAT THOU WILT; Enjoy Thyself
DO WHAT THOU WILT; Respect Thyself

I Am God
You Are God
God Is A Lie
I Am God
You Are God
God Is An Idea
Born In The Minds
Of Us,
The Inventors
God Is A Tool
Used For Control
His Soldiers Are Fools
Losing Their Souls

DO WHAT THOU WILT
BUT FEAR NO GOD
DO WHAT THOU WILT
GOVERN THYSELF
DO WHAT THOU WILT
PROTECT THY WORLD
DO WHAT THOU WILT
BE WHO YOU WISH
DO WHAT THOU WILT
HARM NOT
WASTE NOT
DO
WHAT
THOU WILT

When i die, please leave my gravestone blank.

For a name is just a selection of 26 letters
a lost blue print, among many lost inventors.

Over time my name will be erased
from the harsh erosion taken place
i'll beat life at it's own game
before anyone can say                    "what was her name?"

I've been to all ends of the earth looking for you but you are not direction
I searched the sky for you but you are not a constellation
I looked to the sea but you are not the waves
When I searched the trees I was disappointed by your absence but you are not a bird
I looked under the ground but you are not the roots of the pines
I dissected every line I ever wrote but you are not a collection of words
When I listened to the wind I couldn't help myself and I tried to hear you but you are not a whisper
Screaming in caves creates company but you are not an echo
I gathered a crew and set sail in treacherous weather but you are not a lighthouse
I've heard the floor boards squeak and the walls moan but you are not a house
This car has carried me for ninety five thousand miles but you are not the highway
I climbed to the tops of mountains but you are not a feeling of victory
With thoughts of warmth I struck a match and lit the woods on fire but you are not heat
I stood alone in the night watching the snow fall but you are not the cold
Hundreds of hours spent in the ICU have proven I am sick but you are not the antidote
I melted thousands of renown paintings but you are not inspiration
Millions of scientific advances have been torn apart but you are not understanding
I've searched the words of prophets philosophers and teachers but you are not wisdom
They drew blood from my veins but you are not life
A psychic read my mind but you are not thought
I visited with inventors but you are not an idea
But the day she ripped my heart out of my chest I found you nestled inside safe and sound
And it dawned on me that you are my sunshine
*~W.C.

I am an old soul
I never asked for explorers to progress
I never asked for inventors to invent
I never asked for science to discover or scholars to detect
I never asked to go from Steamers to engines
I never wanted to trade vinyl for headphones

But I’d always trade city lights for a mountain range
A worn out skyline for an open plane

Why do we complicate our lives in attempt to make them simple?
And why has living simply, become to most something trivial

I am raptured in this soul that refuses to age
In times that are always persistent to change

"Old Soul" -JP

oh but what you are doesn't necessarily remain,
we already know what you are,
you are a masquerade of excuses,
and your favourite subject of expressing
the masquerade is philosophy -
by it you find yourself excused,
but because the english undermined
a philosophical expression we've found
a weak spot, a diaphragm sort of speak;
indeed oh, what you are doesn't necessarily remain,
what you create and leave behind is necessary -
i just hope you find the heart to entomb in your
heart those in the modern era you found
pleasure in entertaining you grasping such
a vain effort of your frivolous maintenance
of the easily accessed numbers of similar examples -
sunglasses in the night - a ghost in the machine -
a soul extracted from the body in that lonely
cataract of flooding applause with one actor
and one member of the audience scared to applaud -
your creation... your immediate loss of identity -
but of course you were anticipating the organic
form of what would become a cohesive inorganic
entity - of the example that a mother even speaks
of regarding a robot - now why would a mother
speak of a robot? hmm? guess... it's a test for
a.s.i., i.e. analytically synthetic intelligence -
history repeats itself -
                history repeats itself -
                                you analyse no difference -
hence you synthesise replication - and you call
it intelligence of avoidance yet waste it on
a test for intelligence quantified, rearing in politicians
to craft a chiral representation of intelligence
quantified - in the recycling bin -
so much intelligence wasted, quantified,
leaving so much stupidity qualified to fake it,
instead of the recycling bin, thrown into the pigs'
through...
indeed, you are not what necessarily remains,
all the fabulous discoveries of science, and yet
the burning existential questions - thrown at you
by the pyramidal scheme of the non-inventors,
the once proud aristocrats languishing beneath
the weight of new-money barons...
indeed you are not what necessarily remains,
you are what necessarily remains in what you
are already... in such great number,
as in the liturgy of history... an anonymity...
perhaps all you ever were was a method statement
of creating a soufflé, the fermentation process of grapes...
how foolish you look now, readied for slaughter,
attempting to clarify a famous person syndrome,
grovelling like a ****-politician slurping attention
in Orwell's house - i know my stance -
by the machine being fed exponentials -
once only deluded if i be found prophetic on the street,
but with a house bound to a value
a suicide rate is worth in Switzerland (£10,000),
you think i'd pleasure myself with your tabloid
philosophy and wait for sympathy or disgrace?
guess...
                    it's free; a guess is free,
                                your little birdcage houses no sing-along.

Perhaps an introduction is in order.

We are fields of graves, bone-dust lying soft beneath the earth, footnotes in the annals of history. We are housewives, warriors, mothers, witches, healers, poets, inventors, philosophers, seekers, servants, royalty. We are young and old and middle-aged. We are the line of relentless faces in front of The White House lawn, the chaffed, frozen fingers gripping banners of purple and gold. We are wombs that hemorrhaged from the unforgiving wire of coat hangers. We are the tender and unbreakable who raised generations under the weight of our ***.  

We are legend. We are life-source. We are women.

In any case, we have something to tell you, our daughters, who are so defeated you can barely find a reason to go on. Listen.

You come from the guts of the Universe and are equipped with more power than our society knows what to do with. From cradle to coffin, you face a world which tries to snap you in two at every chance. You are branded with labels as soon as you’re old enough to attract attention. You are *****, ****, *****, ****; weak, silly, inferior, dim, useless. You are good for your body and if your body is not good enough—if your hips are too wide for **** and your ******* too small for beautiful and your hair to rough to be desirable—you aren’t worth anything.

Each time you turn on the television or computer or step outside your home, you are assaulted by what you should be, told to go to war with your sense of self. You’re something always in need of fixing and this only intensifies with time. You are naturally unclean, too wild for your own good. Men won’t touch you unless you are smooth, supple, and hairless—practically childlike. They shudder at any mention of the monthly blood flow between your legs and the way your abdomen clenches and aches, proof that you can create life.

Your most base rights and liberties are still (God, still) the source of violent political warfare, because Human does not apply to Female. You are ***** in billions of ways, stripped and stripped of your dignity, your power, and those sweet stars in your eyes. You stand in the center of a great mob, and their spears are all pointing at you.

We burn for you, are enraged to the point of combustion. We’ll never forget what it was like to be in your place. The memory of such oppression will always be imprinted within us, reverberating long after death. Our softest, deepest apologies are with you, as is our softest, deepest admiration. We hope you can feel it.

We hope you’ll put down your despair for a moment, listen to your heart drumming away, and remind yourself that your subordinance is man-made. You are crafted of the same atoms as Eve and Joan of Arc and Cleopatra, your strength is infinite. You are pure helium, rising, reviving and resurrecting, again and again, on and on.

Lift your chin, raise your eyes, and breathe from the root of your being. Don’t be frightened; we are with you. The fight goes on.

Your Name

Your name
Shouted across the battlefield
Whispered in the darkness of the soul
Written on the forehead of the sage
And the heart of the poet
Burning in the minds of explorers,
inventors and madmen
Tattooed into your own
Etched in indelible letters
Engraved in my soul
When all else fades,
It remains
Shining in darkness
Your name.

Society ignores the messages that people bring up, the protesters, the entrepreneurs, the conservationists, and the inventors, who try to fix our mistakes. We do it because we are afraid to hear that our tiny little perfect world, that we worked so hard to make perfect, is not so perfect after all. So we ignore it, we block it out, and we go on with our perfect world, ignoring reality.
We ignore the messages of hunger, of poverty, of genocide, of war, of economy, of religion, of disasters, and of relationships, because it shakes our tiny little worlds

I want to follow.
So I can lead.
So I can encourage.
So I can
breathe
and show the way
to the breath of life.
But the words
seem hollow
and my works
are like the products of inept inventors
falling apart before inception.
They tumble from my mouth
and rattle through my brain
never reaching my hands and feet.
My heart
still healing
sometimes flutters with doubt.
I try to shut it out....
but, God, please!
I'm not asking for easy
for less pain
or more progress.
God, I just want to know you.
Don't let my sometimes hollow
plea to follow
betray my plodding feet...
If I should stumble,
let me stand again!
With you, I can.
My life,
so short,
so miniscule,
but not meaningless.
Your plan is too complex;
the jigsaw of your perfect work
the infinitesimal steps
leading
one by seeming insignificant one
to the final future for us all
where we will bow before you!
Crying out praises!
Singing Hallelujah!
Let me be that small part you have for me.
I want to follow.

I apologize
For my inconsistencies
For my opinions
For being naïve or knowing too much of nothing
For questioning the teachings of great thinkers, great writers, poets, inventors of all time
I’m sure that they’re sorry too
Sorry that not everything is done to a certain someone
Or doesn’t pertain to those who toss it aside
Sorry that we all live in our own separate and made up worlds
Feeding off of old traditions
Enhancing them to make our own “new” ones
But then define plagiarism? If it’s such a huge issue
Then why do we do it?
So I am sorry.
Sorry for copying you, him, her, them
Sorry for stealing what was never there

I was in a little coffee shop here in KY Area where many people from different places around the planet come to speak about innovative ideas and discuss their pass-times and exchange information on how to make the planet more ECO-FRIENDLY and better ways to go about the problems the whole Planet is facing today. We are against Governments that got TOP SECRET HIDDEN AGENDAS on how to Brain-Hack/Mind-Control/Mass-Hypnosis/Luciferian Doctrines/People with Special Gifts & Hidden Powers/ Godless people/Lovers Of $$$/Lustful People/Pornographic Industry/Video-Game Industry Become more Violent & Ruthless/ Lovers of themselves/ Inventors of Evil/ Deceivers/ Soul-Controllers/ Witches/ Witchcraft/ Demonic-Possession/Dark-Lords/Demon-Lords/NWO/NumberOfTheBeast(666) and Liars & Thieves.

It was around 5:51 A.M in the Morning on 3/4/19 and I walked in to this little Coffee Shop...I got greeted by a Young Woman who was really polite and really friendly...I told her I was homeless and that all I needed was to warm my hands for about 5 to 10 minutes and then all the sudden I started to tremble a bit and I felt so overwhelmed by a sense of peace and happiness...

All the sudden a small blue orb that I was able to see from the corner of my left eye came inside the Little Coffee Shop ...that little orb levitated to my table hovered right on the opposite chair to where I was sitting at...in the table. This little Orb started to un-wind and I told myself in my head...this is unbelievable ...is so amazing to see this... then the Orb slowly but surely; took a form of a Man with a White Long Tunic sitting across me like 4 ft opposite to me & the chair I was occupying to sit on. All the sudden I realized it was a Man about 151 Lbs height couldn't tell and a beautiful gray beard and his skin color was like all the races combined to 1 specific color but each color blended to perfection.
His feet looked like shiny pure bronze his hair was so long it touched the ground and was actually not gray the hair on his head was white...I noticed that when I came in it was just me and 2 female workers in the Coffee Shop and 1 Caucasian Female about 24-26 yrs old sitting on the other table across mine and she was minding her own business and typing in a computer...

Something was strange hence when this powerful being came inside the place I knew that it was so odd to just come to my table and hover and then slowly transform the small blue energy ball to a full blown grown older man with a extremely white tunic on...so white I could not tell if it was just the color or if it was transparent...
I figured that all the sudden I became extremely submissive to this being that was sitting across me and also I sensed deep within me that he is the ONE that made everything we know to exist and everything we think we know that is out there in the MULTI-VERSE.

I began to cry of overwhelming joy and happiness and a touch of excitement to see that he came to visit me and to make sure that he made his presence and even the air in the little shop changed it became more dense... everyone in the little coffee shop knew there was something up but couldn't exactly pin-point what was happening all the sudden I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and a radiant holiness inside that place that it was just unbelievable man. Then something amazing happened there was now about 10 people in the little coffee shop and everyone was intoxicated with the presence of the MAKER OF THE MULTI-VERSE CREATOR OF SOULS & STARS, GALAXIES, & BLACK-HOLES, WHITE-HOLES, WORM-HOLES, POWERS BEYOND HUMAN IMAGINATION TO EVEN GRASP & EVERYTHING WE THINK WE KNOW ABOUT THIS GALAXY or even the Universe.

Then everyone all the sudden smiled and it was all at the same exact time and everyone was talking rapidly and I could sense that they knew HE was also there...who ever thought GOD didn't exist up till then at that POINT when that mysterious presence appeared and made itself known to me and everyone else...it was just *** I couldn't believe it. It was if the whole place was filled with a sense of belonging a sense of hyper-joy a sense of perfection to everything. Then I noticed he the presence and he said..."Do you have anything you wanna ask me?" I was like...."I have...(interrupted) gave me the answer to my first question which we where talking to each other with telekinesis (it impacted me in such a way hence I had not even thought of the question that I wanted to ask and then he gave me the answer to the question I was thinking to ask with my mind and BOOM already had an answer for me.

I realized that 5 minutes had elapsed since he made himself known to everyone and that he was speaking to everyone simultaneously all at once ...I was so scared of his presence had a deep deep admiration for him and ultra FEAR and MEGA respect for him. He emanated this profound love and profound holiness it was just plain scary to know something like that could rule all things at all times and knows all answers and could destroy all we know to be EXISTENCE in less than a fraction of a second. IT was a real and so profound experience it felt ethereal and mind-blowing and also I could not think I could not speak I could not move all I could do IS CRY AND BE SCARED LIKE a little baby. Then he spoke and said "Son it's OK don't worry am not here to hurt you all I want you to do is to do what I put you on earth to do you are forgiven for your sins don't worry I know what you do...I know when you sin and what you like and what you don't and what you want and what you don't. Just don't ever doubt the power I hold and don't ever doubt me and you'll be just FINE." With that being said All I could do was merely say..."I surrender I am sorry for sinning my GOD ...I was genuinely afraid of what might happen next... I wanted to just BOW DOWN & WORSHIP HIS MAJESTY the FATHER OF ALL.

Then he also gave me permission to look into his eyes for just a glimpse..."I did and Oh My Freaking Gosh...it was so scary it was like a burning furnace his eyes and he read me and saw and told me every sin I ever committed all the wrong I ever did in just like an instant I felt like a mental defective I felt like a new born baby at that moment naked, afraid and alone knowing I was just a ***** RAG compared to the HOLIEST THING that I could ever imagine my mind kept blowing up from second to second till he left...I could not move speak ...ask or even do anything just cry and cry and cry.
After like 2 more minutes it was about in total of 8 minutes of my life being spent there with the MAKER...he left ...just like he came ... a flash of white light that blinded me  and everyone knew that he was gone then the air was back to being normal everyone back to their own head and their own problems but they left with a powerful perhaps the most powerful spiritual/ethereal/surreal/conscious waking experience...they shall ever have. I told the people the 2 girls in the little coffee shop that I was leaving and the rest of the day I felt like I had won just a billion dollars and I felt an after-glow of the MAKER it was so beautiful I loved it...Thanked the Girls for treating me like a human being and like someone that mattered and I left and did my own thing.

                                                                            Sincerely, H.R.V

THIS WAS MY EXPERIENCE OF WHAT THE POWER THE MYSTERIOUS POWER OF GOD THE FATHER CAN RADICALLY CHANGE YOUR LIFE IN 1 INSTANT...DON'T DOUBT JUST BELIEVE & NEVER EVER ABANDON YOUR FAITH.

Once a writer falls in love with you,
you can't ever die—
we all know the saying.
But what happens, I wonder,
to those who fell in love
but never tried to preserve it
with paper and ink?
Was their love, I wonder,
not as real
as the love that all of us
have written down,
as if the feelings aren't official
until we find an artistic way
to express them in words?

So this one goes out to
all the athletes and the inventors,
to the photographers and the painters
and the musicians and the dancers—
to the encouragers, and the listeners,
and the readers—
to everyone who's ever been in love.
To anyone who's ever found themselves
feeling the same way inside as it feels
when you step into the sun
after spending far too long
in artificial lighting,
or when you feel the breeze again
after far too much air conditioning.

This one goes out to all of you.
To all of *us.
Because no matter how we choose
to express it,
we are the lovers,
and we can never die.

Over the hill and far away
Is where the make believe must play
The dreamers, inventors
The wishers and tempters.

How high such a hill
Should rise from the ground
And oh what a cackle
Has come from its crowd.

What glee and temptation
And lacking contemplation
Has thrown out such an awful menace
And now we, the outsiders do the penance.

Out of sight and out of mind
Has a one sided hangover I find.

We were the kings and queens
Standing tall and proud with our scraped knees and missing teeth
Wielding illustration board swords and construction paper crowns
As we ruled our backyard kingdoms with justice and innocence

We were the greatest heroes that ever lived
We donned our stark-white towel capes and sprinkled baby powder pixie dust on our backs
Our feet never left the pavement
But we soared higher than the cotton candy clouds

We were astronauts orbiting the cold darkness of space
Protected only by our tin foil and cardboard helmets
We spent hours counting every twinkling star and hitching rides on each passing comet
Marveling at the earth with eyes as bright as the nebulae that pierced through the velvet blackness

We were builders, inventors, creators
We built up and tore down skyscrapers with the touch of a hand
We formed galaxies that dripped from our tongues like honey
The earth itself moved along with our bodies that never seemed to tire

But we were only ever seen as children
They told us to stop horsing around, to stop our nonsense
But this “nonsense” was the only thing
That had ever made sense to us

“Grow up.” Those words stung like a slap to the face
“Grow up.” They left sticky teardrop trails on our cheeks
“Grow up.” Repeating over and over again until they made our ears bleed
“Grow up.” Until we had no choice

So we took off our crowns and left them to rust
Crumpled and abandoned at the bottom of our backpacks
Collecting pencil shavings and pad paper debris
Crushed by the weight of our responsibilities

We removed our capes and robes
Dropped our swords and shields
Leaving them to rot in the very closet
Where we sought courage to fight the monsters that we used to be scared of

We traded our tools and scepters
For textbook rifles and good-grade grenades
And our feeble little bodies could barely take the load
We were drafted in a war that we were too young to fight

We tucked away every trace of our childhood
In the pockets of our ripped jeans and underneath our briefcases
We hid them from prying eyes and jeering tongues
Hoping that the blossoms sprouting from our minds wouldn’t be seen through our hats

We lost touch with our past
Like an childhood friend who moved away
And although you never saw him again
You still remembered his name

Why are we so afraid to let our minds run free?
Do we fear the goldfish bowl of judgement so much
That we do our best to make it seem like we have nothing from our past left to show
And we only end up ripping up our imagination to destroy the evidence of its existence

But child, I hope you find bits and pieces of it
Whether they are wedged in between the pages of your favorite book
Or folded neatly in an old shoe box
Or perhaps sitting in your mother’s attic, gathering dust

Maybe you’ll find it in a series of knocks on your door
And I hope you let it in
And listen carefully while it speaks
Let it tell you stories of when you were royalty, a hero, an astronaut, a builder

And when it hands you a crown
A cape, a helmet, a sword
Please don’t be ashamed to use them
Don’t be afraid to remember

But if you tell it that you don’t need those things anymore
And that you no longer need them to dream, that’s okay too
Because growing up never meant letting go of your imagination
It only meant turning it into your reality

I think I have come up with a solution
to the dilemma I described in another recent poem.
It is a path I always knew was available to me
but I did not know how to start upon it.
I am happy that it has remained open.

What is knowledge if it is not acted upon?
I will now reveal my most painful thought,
the burden I have been ******* about,
because we need to do something about it.
not just sit idly by as it destroys everything we know.

My secret is a spoiler.
The spoiler.
The ultimate spoiler.
The end of the universe.
"the heat death of the universe"
google it, and see.

This is really hard for me, saying this,
especially knowing that someone really cool may read it
and suffer as I have.
Please don't let it get you down.
although, I'm sure you won't.

But I have written so much already
and I haven't given what the title has promised.
The Solution is to construct a foundation
upon which future generations
of scientists,
inventors,
innovators,
and all of humankind
can build upon
so as to not only avert this terrible disaster
but to delve ever deeper into the vast reality we are born to

Here's to the untouched,
the naysayer virgins,
the believers, dreamers and bright eye beamers.

The poets with clouds in their shoes
Walking on gusts of autumn airs.
Humming the tune of a new idea
And sparking the wick of inspiration.

Here's to the inventors,
the birthers of thought
the can dos, will dos and get er dones

Brains in their pencils, cascading onto the page,
Blueprints blotting out
Black splotches in their lives.

Heres to the musicians,
The beat makers,
The Chance takers, love makers and feeling creators

Chanting the tune of tolerance,
Singing the ugly untouched image
Composing the stuff of life.

Heres to the artists,
The men and women
Still starry eyed with wonder,
The backbone of humanity.

Heres to you.

I believe in equality
That people should not be authority and subjects
But equals with different skill sets and positions

I believe in advancement
That our world will change over time
That progress will be made
That inventors and artists will create
And leaders and makers will revolutionize

I believe in understanding
That we can learn to understand our world, our place in it, and our fellow humans
That we can gain the knowledge to shape our environment and ourselves

I believe in hope for the future, carpe diem, and in remembering the stories of the past

Let's do this

Battered, beaten, bruised, Torn and scorned.
Women In the boardroom,
Or be you a nursing mother;
From the Alley to the gutter;
From maid to servant, wife or slave.. Lust and shame, follows our names No way to say no, No-way to explain Mothers in the church, they pray and sing
Keeping time with the music we play. Whispers in the back of us, as we shout And pray. Had so many children.. To care for, that we bore;
Life for us just one big ole' big chore. Circumstances dictated that we live in shacks, No indoor running water, in the shack Just a "spickit" and a toilet in the yard outback. From the age of fourteen until well in our fie birth to our little brown babies.
We smiled, sacrificed, our happiness, and our own lives, Pretended to hold on, when our faith had long died. We'd wash cook, sew, clean, garden and teach. In hopes that the children we bore... Knew not, nor suffer the same strife; As we met in this life.
When our children saw the wounds And the pain we've endured. We asked God "let them not be bitter nor dismayed" Let them succeed, and by his mercy be cured.
As the light in our eyes, now dim, is soon to be snuffed. The Average Black woman had been through enough. Battle after battle; We survived every war. Some women were self-made, others evolved higher In spite of the odds.
Though the abuser at Home did not want her to score.. Battered and beaten; She still held her own; Though she never saw Jesus, Somehow she still soared..became Professors and Doctors, surgeons. Inventors musician and clergymen. Scientist, dentist and politicians, Bed-wenches and ******, We did what it took to survive, we Even Scrubbed floors.
Disaster after disaster, there's is Nothing in this world; The Black-Woman Has not conquered and mastered. When she crosses over and is on the other shore... When her days on earth are finally done, And she wants to cleanse her soul.
                      She'll Tell God of all the things
That hurt her most here in this earthly life. Was being battered, bruised, and beaten... By the man that called her Wife.