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"jitney" poems
<> The Instigation: Edmund  Black, commenting on “weary weighted,” I agree with Kim; This is poetry at its best :)“ <•> *both of you shush! there is no “better” in poetry mine yours theirs, alive or not, just gasps tears and blood whimsical smiles and isles cuts and burns of pained revelations, hidden in fog, that words try to delete away, through the shrouded mists of human tissues, unconstrained by the bounded shape of the human cell, our first, our own self-imposed jail tissue, too, baby soft, or, purple beating majestic bruised blotches by those weaklings whose kindness never fully developed;   or old man mine whose skin cells erodes, so poems and light weary weighted, lightly flake off for your “betterment” mostly tho for worse good humans all await, in patientce lightly hidden, residents of dark sunspots in the glaring existence exposer of the unlit lighthouse whose time will come they get it how we get there unimportant get there GET THERE get there that is the poetic mission critical no path best or style preferred- no compare just, but, any path that lifts and elevates, to the commonplace* the common place *where all costarred, universal, where common is the temple mount of highest praise, holy smoke rising, a place that that discloses and closes, is scribed/described honestly as a connective, which is the simplest successive call my poems, blessedly common! that an honorable, so gladly accepted and so much more meaning-full than merely best or better* for that, I’d gladly weep, for no praise ever been bettered 8/2/18 406pm on the jitney to my isle
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 4:15 PM UTC
the common place... (for Kim Johanna Baker & Edmund Black)
<> The Instigation: Edmund  Black, commenting on “weary weighted,” I agree with Kim; This is poetry at its best :)“ <•> *both of you shush! there is no “better” in poetry mine yours theirs, alive or not, just gasps tears and blood whimsical smiles and isles cuts and burns of pained revelations, hidden in fog, that words try to delete away, through the shrouded mists of human tissues, unconstrained by the bounded shape of the human cell, our first, our own self-imposed jail tissue, too, baby soft, or, purple beating majestic bruised blotches by those weaklings whose kindness never fully developed;   or old man mine whose skin cells erodes, so poems and light weary weighted, lightly flake off for your “betterment” mostly tho for worse good humans all await, in patientce lightly hidden, residents of dark sunspots in the glaring existence exposer of the unlit lighthouse whose time will come they get it how we get there unimportant get there GET THERE get there that is the poetic mission critical no path best or style preferred- no compare just, but, any path that lifts and elevates, to the commonplace* the common place *where all costarred, universal, where common is the temple mount of highest praise, holy smoke rising, a place that that discloses and closes, is scribed/described honestly as a connective, which is the simplest successive call my poems, blessedly common! that an honorable, so gladly accepted and so much more meaning-full than merely best or better* for that, I’d gladly weep, for no praise ever been bettered 8/2/18 406pm on the jitney to my isle
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from all identical to nothing identical many exceptions to no exceptions eventually deduced from the above all deductions being eventual that to have a spirit there must be suffering now for the latest in strong arm technology The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics estimates that 13,013 food industry workers lost limbs or other body parts in 2002 or was that 1001 ha ha could make the butcher into a holy man a 19th century ideology will do that to you what this nation needs for **** certain is a political high colonic with legs akimbo he was from a long line of puzzle junkies the trailer trash intelligentsia bleeders dwarfs and lap dance assassins in from the cold but still shivering his autonomous mind shallow in a good way no you’re right that is not possible his recliner chair was his best friend growing old and senile and blind sitting for hours in the back yard thistle weeds growing up around his car seat the sun finally warmed his wondering body and chrome towing ball head run off the road from self examination wailing an alert outward in all directions setting fire to news vans ******* on reporters for keeping us blind and stupid the only thing not hypothetical is right now where they ****** their own truth seekers because the truth belongs to no one yah they killed a lot of angels to get here sure as the jitney starts and stops but since the struggle is no longer for survival that should tell you something existence is apparently making a point it's a tin can with a wire handle God has mocked you a thousand times well ding **** mock him back and attain your victory through semiotics you know the imperial rhetorical more missing teeth every time seeing two objects because you got two eyes will work the hourglass to a standstill his bruised face was a horrifying presence basically I did it to make myself laugh utilizing the latest Child of Defiance plug in From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
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Jul 29, 2023
Jul 29, 2023 at 11:58 PM UTC
Tin Can With a Wire Handle
from all identical to nothing identical many exceptions to no exceptions eventually deduced from the above all deductions being eventual that to have a spirit there must be suffering now for the latest in strong arm technology The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics estimates that 13,013 food industry workers lost limbs or other body parts in 2002 or was that 1001 ha ha could make the butcher into a holy man a 19th century ideology will do that to you what this nation needs for **** certain is a political high colonic with legs akimbo he was from a long line of puzzle junkies the trailer trash intelligentsia bleeders dwarfs and lap dance assassins in from the cold but still shivering his autonomous mind shallow in a good way no you’re right that is not possible his recliner chair was his best friend growing old and senile and blind sitting for hours in the back yard thistle weeds growing up around his car seat the sun finally warmed his wondering body and chrome towing ball head run off the road from self examination wailing an alert outward in all directions setting fire to news vans ******* on reporters for keeping us blind and stupid the only thing not hypothetical is right now where they ****** their own truth seekers because the truth belongs to no one yah they killed a lot of angels to get here sure as the jitney starts and stops but since the struggle is no longer for survival that should tell you something existence is apparently making a point it's a tin can with a wire handle God has mocked you a thousand times well ding **** mock him back and attain your victory through semiotics you know the imperial rhetorical more missing teeth every time seeing two objects because you got two eyes will work the hourglass to a standstill his bruised face was a horrifying presence basically I did it to make myself laugh utilizing the latest Child of Defiance plug in From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Continue reading...
49
from all identical to nothing identical many exceptions to no exceptions eventually deduced from the above all deductions being eventual that to have a spirit there must be suffering now for the latest in strong arm technology The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics estimates that 13,013 food industry workers lost limbs or other body parts in 2002 or was that 1001 ha ha could make the butcher into a holy man a 19th century ideology will do that to you what this nation needs for **** certain is a political high colonic with legs akimbo he was from a long line of puzzle junkies the trailer trash intelligentsia bleeders dwarfs and lap dance assassins in from the cold but still shivering his autonomous mind shallow in a good way no you’re right that is not possible his recliner chair was his best friend growing old and senile and blind sitting for hours in the back yard thistle weeds growing up around his car seat the sun finally warmed his wondering body and chrome towing ball head run off the road from self examination wailing an alert outward in all directions setting fire to news vans ******* on reporters for keeping us blind and stupid the only thing not hypothetical is right now where they ****** their own truth seekers because the truth belongs to no one yah they killed a lot of angels to get here sure as the jitney starts and stops but since the struggle is no longer for survival that should tell you something existence is apparently making a point it's a tin can with a wire handle God has mocked you a thousand times well ding **** mock him back and attain your victory through semiotics you know the imperial rhetorical more missing teeth every time seeing two objects because you got two eyes will work the hourglass to a standstill his bruised face was a horrifying presence basically I did it to make myself laugh utilizing the latest Child of Defiance plug in From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
0
Jul 14, 2023
Jul 14, 2023 at 6:12 PM UTC
Tin Can With a Wire Handle
from all identical to nothing identical many exceptions to no exceptions eventually deduced from the above all deductions being eventual that to have a spirit there must be suffering now for the latest in strong arm technology The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics estimates that 13,013 food industry workers lost limbs or other body parts in 2002 or was that 1001 ha ha could make the butcher into a holy man a 19th century ideology will do that to you what this nation needs for **** certain is a political high colonic with legs akimbo he was from a long line of puzzle junkies the trailer trash intelligentsia bleeders dwarfs and lap dance assassins in from the cold but still shivering his autonomous mind shallow in a good way no you’re right that is not possible his recliner chair was his best friend growing old and senile and blind sitting for hours in the back yard thistle weeds growing up around his car seat the sun finally warmed his wondering body and chrome towing ball head run off the road from self examination wailing an alert outward in all directions setting fire to news vans ******* on reporters for keeping us blind and stupid the only thing not hypothetical is right now where they ****** their own truth seekers because the truth belongs to no one yah they killed a lot of angels to get here sure as the jitney starts and stops but since the struggle is no longer for survival that should tell you something existence is apparently making a point it's a tin can with a wire handle God has mocked you a thousand times well ding **** mock him back and attain your victory through semiotics you know the imperial rhetorical more missing teeth every time seeing two objects because you got two eyes will work the hourglass to a standstill his bruised face was a horrifying presence basically I did it to make myself laugh utilizing the latest Child of Defiance plug in From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Continue reading...
49