The body is for life but only to die
then there is an exception not all is linear
there is a feminine rose after the death
for her no more death on Earth!
She was there before the first matter
it was in the making before her eyes.
The first and foremost luminary feminine
moved on heartily panning flawless flow
aligning into the finest angle of the first matter.
Across the nadir to the zenith
Fathima eyes on upon it as it comes to be
shaping and forming art of miracle:
One true masterpiece without a mirror!

Arts on the go Fathima moves on
praise be to the Lord she being made to measure
mathematically perfect by birth the pi is her!
(The pi tends to circle the blank space within is feminine
while the circumference of the circle is masculine)
She can budge equally in the shadow
in patternless pi decimals and in the open,
in integer and into a whole full number!

Hops up her first step she looks for ‘the all’
the complete whole the absolute one Allah.
Time and again she steps up but finds no floor
her measured step by default lays on 360-degree circles
and scans everything at the first go still finds no bottom!

The first luminary masculine peace be upon him
first looks in the open she takes the veiled angle.
Through the evermore pi decimal micro-hole
she looks on and witnesses the first matter a water drop
surfaces up without a base without a roof on top!
It follows through truly the copy of the original
softly springing around the serene water paints  
of all the maters to be created from this first drop.
Fathima looks at it and veils withdraws her reflection.
Little chip bottomless deep into the finest nature
Fathima instills countless Boolean gates making
access to her beyond digital and AI and conditional.

The sky hasn't yet forgot that follows suit
first, a star was born stepping in Fathima’s shoe.
It tried so did the full set of the galaxy only to disperse
into a profound constellation never finds the bottom.
Amidst this water circle floats the first soil
Allah called it His house that He first created from it.
Every planetary orb pilgrimage around it in the core
named the Ka’abah up to the heart of the earth it rose.

In the pre-designed world following the first masculine
Fathima the first feminine pilgrimaged around it
not in the open but strictly in the patternless pi veil.

Nature is never uneven on the hand of the uneven pi
every little fraction a small decimal counts connects to the dot showing and without showing a pattern
long live, long live the digital charisma is on the rise!

The sun rises and retraces back in the middle lane,
the black box scores at the end of the day it's only a dark chart!
The Moon is yet to moon over an unturned sublunary-dip
It pulls all, the mighty sea that the earth can't
and syncs into the feminine water cycle but save only one
with Fathima floating out of the box it can’t link up!

Like millions, ever wonder where Fathima’s grave is?
The earth strived too to the death bite to print her footprint!

This is for people who are "overweight"
___________
Got up today,
made myself some breakfast.
Got in the shower
Looked at my body,
Saw what everyone else sees.
My belly is too big,
I tell myself
"I'm ugly"
I cry a little inside.
I put on my shirt
saw the XL on the tag.
I went to school,
watched people look at me.
Its not fair you know.
I am unable to exercise,
my asthma has almost taken my life from doing so
*twice*
I wish people would see
my pants size represents my heart,
not your superiority.
If I wear a size 27,
my heart is 27,
and you where a size two.........
I wish people would look at my eyes,
not at my waist,
and look at who I am,
not what I  look like.
I am a great person,
I do not like being called fat.
Fantastic,
Awesome ,
Terrific
person,
is who I am
I am not fat,
I am human.
Respect me.
Despite what you think,
I can kiss
I can love
I can feel
I am a person,
who has desires.
I am not fat,
No
I am a person.
_____
No one is overweight.
That is not what maters.
People need to open their mind
before their mouth.
So many magazines exploit people,
society being the same.
People judge others
by what they look like.
That is so ******.
Love the person for who they are
and NOT by what they look like

Mater wouldn't bother if bother didn't mater so if you bother to mater then I will bother with you😊

Please, read this with the thickest southern accent you've ever heard. It's my language. It's my home...


Hee Haws on the TV
Chicken's fryin' in cast iron skillets
Taters and maters scent mama's clothes
no AC
Papaws in the bacca field
Granny's sippin' on sweet tea
The law stopped comin' here they say,
Back in '23
The fruit's ripe for pickin
daddy did that last week
He said the Apple brandy
Tasted perfect,
bitter sweet
The moonshine makers meet
When the crickets sing at night
they pass around mason jars
'neath the moon
and southern stars
The wine stays burried till fall
muskadine,
other than strawberry
the very best kind
The yanks
buy it up
Its funny to watch 'em
they can't handle their stuff
The Demory Mart stays busy
oh Lord it's so much fun!
When the moonshiners play pool,
till the rising of the sun
Momma don't like it,
Lord she gets so mad!
But she puts my church shoes on me
and I know she still loves dad
But now the still's turned green
as copper always does
There are no moonshiners left
Time has passed, just 'cause
Papaw's gone
the fields have grown up
there are no moonshiners left
it's all store bought, mason jars
have turned to cups
Demory Mart is Yankee owned
the church has indoor plumbing
But late at night, I hear the banjo's
and the stills, copper humming....

My opinion maters
Because I choose to make it so.
I may be just one human being
On this planet
Therefore only getting a small pull,
But **** me straight to hell
If I ever pass on the opportunity
To stand up for what I believe.

And I believe I've had enough.
I believe I can make tomorrow
A better day
For you.

I believe in the influence of power
And the power of one.

My opinion maters
because I choose to make it so.
What do you believe?

I acted.
Harshly,
'Tis true.
But is that all that maters,
When one judges an action.

I let go.
Wrongly,
Of my control.
But is that all that maters,
When one judges an action.

When an intention is sincere,
And an action wrong,
While others condemn both.
What matters.
When one judges an action.

Ay, the action was wrong,
But what of those who condemn for their own benefit.
Is it right to contend their words,
Or should I bare,
For wrong action done.

How does one judge oneself,
When no standard holds.
When,
Nor your mind,
Nor others' mind
Gives you anything to stand on.

Old pathways what wonders they restate we know not what the future holds but what loves
The past offers lost loves friends that had measures of greatness they instilled in us riches that
We still give to those we know we let them slip from conscious but at certain times their
Excellence flares white hot we in that moment trim our sails as sailors far out at sea a
Noticeable change of character occurs a trace of intense emotional savvy rest in our words and
The actions we perform at that time we recall school friends they stood out as different they
Had a class about them they were ladies or gentlemen in a sea of crassness they were game
Changers they beatified an otherwise normal picture they had those special times budded into
Heroes in those years they were never told such things I have several in mind that it is long over
Do know you were special and as time goes by your riches only grow more precious they stood
For something they caused you to look at yourself and say I can do better they were a comfort
When outside maters were painful life is a great work of art all in parts that make the kindest
And greatest whole their lives in miniature was the showing of who they would become and in
It all they were investing in all of our lives what kind of flat and lackluster world would it be with
Out them I know my heart longs for them in memory for whatever reason that they are lost
Truly as the poet John Donne said it so succinctly no man is an island to himself no all of the
Ones I know I see the streams of so many beautiful souls flowing into your life from the past
Some was invigorated with tears or laughter sock hops or sporting events and so many ways
The Torrent flows without restraint in doing so you were made stronger kinder and at time
Weaker So that you could draw from those that were stronger what a difference just little acts
Make when they reach you in timeless perfection the value can never be adequately
Understood or told here I’m going to speak of some in my life and I would like you to do the
Same it will truly enrich this time of the year little girl with the most beautiful curls that used to
Live behind a grocery store now married to a young man that set many hours out on his porch
Because his mother was gone I have never stopped sitting with him in that long ago sorrow
I knew what it felt like to ne motherless I had a life with rough spots but I knew a guy
That was a pure gentleman even as a teenager I grew by his calm and lovely life my first days in
School were rescued by someone who was kind hearted his heart as only grown larger over the
Years I don’t tell him or so many others how I appreciate them so I’m doing it now God bless
You all and thank you I will name one she just passed through a rough spot and Donna I wish
You all the best dear one Happy birthday Doug Happy birthday Cheryl thanks for the richness
Of your lives that truly grows and blesses this life

A well worn path in the grass
A permanent smudge on the bell
Both put there by U.P.S.
Bringing me more of which I delve

Whether Infomercial or Shopping channel
Maters not they're both the same
I have both they're 800 numbers
They have both my number and name

My family thinks I have a problem
It's plain to me they don't understand
Shopping and T.V...the best of worlds
With remote grasped firmly in hand

And the deals, why they keep on coming
3 easy payments are done in a snap
I might have a bit of a habit
But it's not like I'm addicted to crack

Of course I only purchase what's needed
Though every so often I do have to splurge
But only if the object is shinny
On that you do have my word

Now if you'll pardon me, here's a new item
And they're getting ready to spill the deal
By the way, I'm also expecting a package
Would you kindly listen out for the bell

Deep in the desert where no one can see
Is a laboratory named "Area 143."
Like Area 51, it runs government tests
But not about aliens (though that's a good guess).

These facilities created, over the years,
A watch that would stop when your soulmate was near.
From your moment of birth, it would start to count down
To the exact moment when your soulmate was found.

For a while it worked, and all was well.
But a rise in divorce rang the warning bell.
For the watch could not predict that you'd love your mate,
Just someone that you could potentially date.

The CEO of Area 143
Tore his beard out and yelled, "This cannot be!"
He recalled all the watches and then packed them away
To a secret location, where they hide to this day.

But he did not know that other watchmakers
Had stolen the plans for these botched "soul-maters"
Today these copies are still for sale
Some think they do work, from school to jail.

So if you ever meet someone and you see your watch stop
You might have purchased one of these matchmaking flops.

FWD: Guardian Of The Light
Soul Glows Goes Below
Behold Darkest Night
Perception Surpassing Depths
Humans Mention
I Am Adept
Ascending Threw New Dimensions
I Understand I Just Do
I Am Just Me
Trust Me Your Just You
Souls With Special Power
Universal Timing
Alining The Perfect Hour
Rituals To Share Respect
There Is No Tear In Wear
When Im Here Or There
And Adress The Threats
Im Here On Earth To
It Hurts The Worst Of Course
What The Heck
Im Burining In Flames
That Strain Amazing
Gazing In Just A Sec
Secrue WHEN Im Near
The Oppisite ***
Im Too Awesome To Rest
My Dreams Are Life And Death
I Feel Nervous
Breakin Pools Of Sweat
I Pull Through Like Maters Do
Till Wings Grew
And There Is Nothing Left
That I Can Give
Or Recieve Like No More Breathe
I Came To Earth
To Transcend I Past The Test
Theres A Star Some Way Out West
That Reflects The East
I Be At 4 Directs
Gazing At The Sunset
Im The Water Baier
That Can Get The Sun Wet
Magik Fairy Dust
Is What My Ashes ArE
Came From Far Away
Past The Stars
I Hold Romance
& Soul Hands

My brother's wife is dying,
diagnosed three months
prior to my spouse
they have had almost
three years.

I am happy to have been first,
for now I know how to be
that older brother
never there for him before.

It is peaceful on the farm
the cycles present themselves
as nature instructs,
together they bury the beloved
in the garden.

My dear ones fashion markers from
bark, agates, photographs
and feelings.

I watched them laugh
in the heat of the brutal
southern summer
hosing each other cool
naked as jays in their fifties,
humor comes without
a date of expiration.

My brother is the family
genealogist, he knows every
detail of our heritage,
knows his black neighbor
is our relative,
when they fish they are uncle
and cousin.

Laura prepares them sandwiches
from the garden, curses the raccoons
for eating all but the last tomatoes,
she slathers them with mayo
for the boys on the plantation's
levy.

Bob takes her for chemo at 6am
all year long.
They read each copy of Prism
in the cubicle
while Laura is tethered,
making mental notes
of my perceptions
for accuracy.

Soon I will get the call
I will be up even though
it is 2am.
What we say to one another
will be private but only for
a time.

Life is designed to be shared,
it is not a secret hell
to be endured.
We will likely walk again
on the rich soil Laura
called "Green Acres."

He will see her planting
cukes and maters in spring
grateful for the strength
of wreckless youth
which drove her from the Bronx
at 17 determined not to be
the butterfly of New York class
with all its dreadful
opportunities.

The leafs have fallen, it deserts his maters side, with no sign of a tear or no hint of goodbye. You the naked tree you bare the image of a mirror, as I gaze at your wilting body, the  world that slowly deserts him as he slowly decays into another winter slumber. Leafs desert him as people do me, oh lonesome tree of this world can't you see? That we are alike, we could almost be kin. Mother Nature inflicts this upon you.. Mother Natures sin. They leave you when you are ugly but re grow in your prime, they only come back to you to feel the warmth of our sunshine. Lonesome tree, tree like me, do you dream of far away places? Do you dream of the sea? Do you dream of other trees? Do you dream of the sun? Then look back on reality and witness what you've become? Alone and lonely, deserted by all, they miss you when your gone, they'll miss you when you fall.

It's been a month we're together now ,
You ask me every day what do i tell you the 17
and the answer it always be the same
be with me and the next month i'll tell you
but I already say it before
and you don't hear it like you want
i swear my dear , I whisper it
every morning with a kiss
every evening with a caress
every night with a hug
in your ear  : *i'll be always with you , and i love you, forever and ever no matter what it takes no maters what it cause , i'll love you

Look, its not my fault.
I want to cry,
She woud give me jobs,
But no chance to try.

Christmas is always
The death of me.
To make maters worse,
They never let me be.

Today I met a guy,
Who fell in love
With me, but I dont
Care I wanna die above.

People keep saying
If I were to die
That they would only
Be able to cry.

They say I am pretty,
Some think I am sweet,
Others say I'm the devil
Cause they cant take the heat.

Whatever choice is yours
Get me out of here.
Dont tell me its death
That I should really fear.

Let Christmas come and go,
Tell me its love or hate.
But you cant make me stop,
For that its far too late.

I'll drown in these painful
Tears and poison my soul.
Cause I am done with
Sitting for life to take a toll.

Thank you Christmas,
For finally taking it away.
I really dont think
That I could last another day.

I love the way how the sunlight pirouettes on your fair skin. Dancing on a melody of your slow breathing. I wonder what you're dreaming of? I wonder if it's me? despite all that, I don't really care. All that maters is, I'm in this moment, Basking in the morning sun, just laying here anticipating the next thing you'd say

Sleep take me away
Make my eye lids grow heavy and darkin my sight until there is only black
Make the sounds fade to silence for all except the gentle hum of a fan
Make every part of me relax and go limp

Sleep take me away
Take me away to a land where none of this maters
Away to where there is no war, no fights, and no pettie problems

Sleep take me away
Away to a far off place where there is no stress and the only thing to worry about is witch tree to climb

Sleep take me away to where I can rest with out nightmares
to where I can walk with confidence or fly through the sky
to where I can be alone and watch the summer stars
or to where I can be with a group of people and not feel alone

Sleep take me away
Take me to a place where I can, and there is no 'i cant'
Take me away to where I can learn
Take me to somwhere far away Sleep, please, take me away

I welcome you sleep, with all that i am
Please wash over me and make me forget

Sleep take it away
Take away my pain
Take away my thoughts
Take away my smiles if you must but please, sleep
Take it away
Take ME away

Have you heard a bobwhite calling-
bob-bob -white in the morning
Perched on a cedar stump crying bobwhite-
with all his bob-bob -white might & glory ..
Stair-stepping from fieldstone to bob-white-
broomsage , gliding neath the bob-bob-white-
pines for fun , a dusty bath in the noonday sun ..
A bobwhite in the felled corn
A bob-bobwhite in the rabbit tobacco
Bobwhite-bobwhite on top of the cow lick -
Bob -bob -white from the 'maters
Bobwhite from some-bob- bob place along the bob-bob 'crick' ...

I want to leave my house quickly, travel quickly,
journey to the neighborhoods of my youth,  
and honor the bones of my parents.
I will weep,
and I will recall,
and go to the ocean.

I know I want to do this,
because I have permitted you
to convince me, that you
and I are important,
convince me that the
rituals and rules we've
conspired to serve for the
secure worshiping of our wealth
are important, that I should
fret, be weary, and despair.

The gods expend no effort.
They look sidelong at our efforts,
and catching their gaze,
I remember, I remember them,
I remember them.
And I am so comforted,
now willing to toss this body,
that we've marked with
sticky tags and pronouncements,
toss it towards the elements
that the gods value,
as they can do useful things with them,
such as reinventing creations
bloated with more love.
You remember - the elements - the fire, the winds,
the oceans.

The ocean, where I want to go,
when I leave this house, quickly,
with you neither invited nor uninvited.
You will know if it's a good idea
to follow, if your personality quakes,
but your soul is well comforted.
Go to the ocean, where and when
my being or not being will have
no concern to me,
as I love the gods,
and I love my parents,
and I love you,
all that maters.

Forty acres and a mule is Rueben’s stake,
in sandy-soiled pine-country
by a stream fed lake;
There he plants cotton, corn and ‘taters,
a patch of melons, beans and ‘maters;

Centuries of struggle landed him here
through rough sea-voyages fraught with fear
to endless lost days of pain and tears
brought at the hand of cruel overseers;

Freedom now is the clarion call,
a trumpet resounding
down Congress’ hall;
A chance to prosper in the un-chosen land
and to raise a family by his own sure hand;

With joy and goodness he buries the hate
unloading his burden and buoying his fate
beyond sheltering pines and the wooden gate
of a cozy house he’s built of late;

Children freed from that forbidding plight,
help with chores
and play with delight;
while Mother loosed from unspoken shame,
nourishes them there like warm summer rain;

Plow and plant, then nurture, then reap
skills developed when labor was cheap
are now built-up in freedom grown sweet,
as the tide of change begins its neap;

Wily carpetbaggers with big cash to spend,
use guile and trickery
the rules to bend
twisting men’s minds toward vile obstruction
while ****** the Law of Reconstruction;

Rueben prospers in this miraculous scheme
there in the forest by the fresh water stream
revering each day a freedman’s dream,
then wakes one night to a low, anguished scream;

The scene is horrific outside the front door,
his mind gropes madly
for a safe sandy-shore;
so he shuttles his family to the woods out back
while listening to the sounds of an awful attack;

Horse-mounted specters with torches ablaze
set fire to the barn and trample the maize
then gallop a-whopping as his old dog bays
at a burning cross where the dead mule lays;

They hide in the pines through a dreadful night
allaying kid’s fears
and the old dog’s fright;
Then return to the farm under a red morning sky,
to find the promise a smoldering burnt lie;

Jesus suffered again on that cross, it’s plain,
as sure as if Pilate had taken rein
leading hate-filled men on a satanic campaign
‘neath fear’s hood and white sheets of shame;

Madmen imagine their cause to be just,
leaving innocents moldering,
mangled in the dust;
With swords blood rusted and Bibles in belts,
they shout fiery sermons, as small worlds melt;

A hundred years flash by in slow fury,
history being written with no trial or jury,
It’s the same baleful, sorry old story,
thems doin' the tellin' gets all the glory;

But history sometimes reshuffles the deck,
And deals a new hand
to ruffle the stiff-necks
of modern raiders who race to the fore
to stanch the tide of progress once more;

Blind to their trail of ****** mistakes
and ignoring slimy vipers let loose on the take,
They go scape-goating—thrashing for snakes—
in sandy-soiled pine country, by stream fed lakes.

Reel ritors arr knot two
bodered bye bad speling
orr de lac ov puncuation

Dat iz de dome ane ov
wreeders kriticks orr
ped anticks

Wi sey what wi tink anned
arr knot afrade ov beeng
ridikuuled

Frei speach iz aul dat
maters whin trute orr
dout a bout lyes iz riten.