Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2013
How I Observed the Day of Atonement

If you are unfamiliar with day and its observance,

In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my creator who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing, none harsher,

We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, adirondacke thrones,
We overlooked,
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded and sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants, the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogos, in this,
Palace of Perfect Solitude.

Amiable did we chat,
I of family, this and that.

He, wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For he had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books.

For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor no defender in residence,
For we exchange these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession.

He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine.

He returned this courtesy.

Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.

A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, he said that he had yet to find
A beverage that his kind of thirst could slake.
For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past.

Too much killing, this year,
It tires me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less, if at all.

Thanks for Kol Nidre, he plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.

If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood, undisguised as praying.

A schooner to the dock did appear,
For him it attended, for him, it waited,
Sails, both black and white.

He stood to depart, my arms-grasped, taken, he graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, my strengths, my divinity.

I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet when next we meet, please.

Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.

He, for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting  beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never deception,

Only He resting easy, when he atoned before me,
And I gave him his absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
September  2013
ryn Apr 2016
Many have come to pry me open.
Many have come asking for the key.
Offering promises that the doubt would lessen,
flaunting their oaths as currency.

Plenty have assured that they're not like the others.
They promised that their words were forged in steel.
They had come with nothing else except to offer,
their ears and support just so to seal the deal.

"Forgive me", I'd say... I am still a tad apprehensive.
But I do feel the need to speak...
I do long for ears attentive,
Not the ones which are attached to mouths that easily leak.

I know that there are such ears...
Hard to find but they're definitely there.
They'd be ready to catch my tears,
more than willing to show concern and care...

Yours seem rather reliable... That much I see.
They've come with intentions seemingly untainted and kind.
Don't suppose they'd take my words ever so lightly.
They won't lap up my secrets with treachery in mind.

Again I find myself here at the same spot.
About to hand over the duplicate key.
This familiar leap I hope you'd have me caught.
Please don't give away my secrets for free...
Umi Dec 2017
"This heat and this blaze harm and burn me, please turn me away"
She said crying out into the endless ****, her stay

And she continued crying out,
Loud even whilst she was about, to burn to dust
Her boiling blood, gave the surroundings a smell likewise rust
Until the Lord finally answered her call
>"If you are granted this wish, will you ask for anything else at all?"<

In her pain, in her agony she could only respond
"No, I swear by your greatness, I will not go beyond (this wish) "
Her wish was fulfilled, she was out of ****,
But, this made her ask for more, would it suit her well ?

" I beg you oh Lord, bring me forward, just to the gate of paradise,
I have no other wish, I would be nice"
So her Lord would say: >"Didn't you promise not to ask for anything more ?
Woe to you, who swore (by my name)!
Oh you who was created from the treacious you are"

She kept begging and pondered so far
" I swear by your greatness I will not ask anymore,
Am I for you, but a useless ***** ? "
And she will continue to promise and pledge,
Until she was finally brought to the edge
The gate to paradise

When she looks inside, she would see its vigor charm and pleasure
But remembering her promise she would remain silent, in front of this treasure
Then, eventually, unable to bear this...she would scream
" Oh Lord, let me enter paradise, it is my greatest dream "
And again her Lord would add:
>" Did you not make all these oaths and pledges not to ask for anything else ? Is it not enough that I brought you out of **** ? You are still sad !
Oh, woe you, how treacious you are "

Tugged in her misery she couldn't help but feel down
Though she didn't bother to shed more tears, just frown
" Please don't make me the most miserable of your creation,
Please forgive me and make heaven my home, my final station"

And she would continue to ponder until her Lord would laugh
As he did, she was able to enter heaven, its most divine half
When she was in, it was said >" Make a wish, it will come true"<
Happiness overcame her, growing faster than bamboo!
She kept on wishing, until there was nothing left to ask for

And thus, the former human, lived in bliss
From now on and forever, never bored by this

~ Umi
The end of my Falling devil series, I hope you could enjoy it !
ryn Jul 2014
This feeling I have that drags my spirit
And I indulge in its lowly zest out of habit
My feet they move in a trudge like manner
Shoulders hunched inwards non receptive to splendour.

How heavy it is in my heart I weep
For a life been dealt in a single, swift sweep
Cards that has been dealt from aeons past
Oaths recited loudly so that they would last.

Amidst the crowd of mask-faced happiness
Unconvinced, I slipped past unfound lest I be careless.
Discomforted in what on this path may lie
Discontented as such that my heart whines a cry.

Rigidity of routine when sensibility took over
Bruised bad and battered well my heart tumbled after
It felt like it's the end of my dream laden days
Reality sinks in, picks on my heart and there it stays.

I don't want to leave my coveted dreamscape
I don't want to destroy my only means of escape
On the ***** of fantasy, forever I want to stay
But it's crumbling away alarmingly like sun beaten clay.

I deceive my heart into thinking that there's still hope
Truth is I may have come to the end of the rope
Heart wants to hear a faint whisper of reassurance
Mind chides heart, it judgingly delivers it's sentence.

My cries cannot be heard, a wail of futile pleas
Banging on locked doors for which I don't have the keys
So weak this spirit for it has thus been broken
Morsel by morsel, this hapless soul is being eaten.

This burden I'm carrying seem never to have lightened
It is the dark of this period I wish to have brightened
Someone, anyone help...please show me a way
In this god forsaken pit I do not wish to stay.

However there exists yet a slim little chance
Key to courage is somewhere if I could afford a glance
Chances are that I may never even find it
I'll be trapped in a hole in which I can never truly fit.
Data Jul 2018
I'm standing outside dying in the ruins
waiting for the helicopters to land,
Inside the church, where the rescued are crying
a pastor's on his knees praying,
but the sky's a disinterested smear
of grey smoke and dusky red sun setting
behind a silhouette of fallen walls
blowed-out windows and stoved-in rooves
—remnants, still crumbling... a loose brick falls...

Out here, I never proved my worth as
a supplicant of note as I whispered
my oaths to obscure pagan deities
and other idols I'd bedded, while the sins
of my brothers lay as scars across my back
like a golden yoke of indignant righteousness,
each slash by that embedded nail
so wrought to a spike of callous indifference.

I scream, 'I'm clean, I swear, I am! I’m clean!’
but the sound is drowned by the whirling blades
and I fall to the ground prostrate before closed doors
as a crow crows a black croak and the last dust of the earth
settles in my craw as a bitter muddy paste...

(Rock bottom is a repetitive beat
—a thrum of descending bass tones
rumbling in my head. From here,
I see the shoes on your feet
I smell the blood & dust of your disgust,
and the cadence of your fist against the broken skull
pulses in dark vacuums)

Know this:
He says, ‘***** to the ritual’
She says, '***** to the rhythm'
I wait…
Yes, outside in the ruins, I wait for the light in the sky.


By Data © July 2018
Mei Jul 2018
While the world thinks she's back on track,
She spends her mornings behind curtains drawn,
Noons at the cafe where they used to go,
Sleepless nights finding out where to start.

She drew her pen and spelled her thoughts.
Empty words, clingy clichés,  broken oaths were new metaphors.
Sentences gushed one after the other like devastating waves of a stormy weather.
Tired eyes brimming, her heart ebbing with hope.
Ken Pepiton Aug 2018
Nugger. No white guy can say that, right.
Nuggers can. *****-***** ****, W.O.P.,
maybe they can say ******, okeh.
What'sbout Jewboy?
Can the Kaffen kid say ******?
Sand-nugger, but not Nugger. ****, too. And *** and *****.

Oy vey, okeh. We can take it. We can take it all. Rules is rules.

That's right. Wanna fight? Wanna be my enemy?

--- Grandpa had a play date. ***- Where's the Fun?
These kids got no guns.
And no enemies. Except imaginary ones.

Greedy little master mind sprouting odd fruits from Pokémon.
Can we make this work? Perfect it, in effect?

Marbles, maybe we can teach that old game and go from there to the funnest parts of FTA... Findtheanswer, like God and Adam played. The rules are some same, bounds, fudges and such. Keepsies, ante-ups and such, too.
Risk is right if-I-can-tation.
Losses can be baked, clayballs,
while momma bakes our daily bread.
Poor kids can make marbles in the sun, since forever, I am sure. Rolly-polly patti and johnny cakes roll marbles into spoons,
Momma knew that stuff. She could shake butter into cream, singin' along Que sera, sera, whatever will be
will be,

but it won't be the death of me,
watch and see,
babu boy oh boy
We can play war until we die, but don't tell the children.
They are the price we are to pay. They must believe.

We swore allegiance for security. We thought it best
for the kids to lie.

You know?
I believe, you know. It's unbelieving I need help with.

Can't you see? We swore allegiance and taught it has become the  honor-us-course-us-po-deserve-us ritual. A rite we pass for the protection of the eagles gathered around the body.

We are proud of our children who die taking
the courses called for, we never ask why,
except when we cry. Silently, inside.

It's our role to remember the glory
of our children dying for the IDEA that lives
in the statue of Freedom
under which our laws allow
might is right, if God was ever on our side.

You know what I mean.
Say so. You know the lies are being told.

Stop believing that is okeh, eh?

Mussleman dominance meme manifests once more to battle the flood of knowing being re-leased or bought, outright, to aid the seekers seeking the meta game.

F.T.A, remember? Find The Answer. Same rules as Hide and Watch,
"All ye, all ye, outsiders hidden in our midst, in free."

"Send me your- poor, huddled masses",
remember being proud of that idea.
Poor thing, lady libertine, so tarnished now that not even Iaccoca's glory loan could gild the actions she sanctioned in the name of the republic for which she (a proxy mate, feminine aspect of God) stands. Sig-n-if-i-cious-ly.

Seig Fried, we say, with the statue of freedom watching over the legislative body, she stands
Quite similar to the Diana of the Ephesians,
in her role as mob solid-if-er, if I know my mythic truths been told.
Trink, trink, trinkits gits the good good luck, light m'fire witcha spark and see a light in the night when the noised of terrors flee.

Rite, we passed those places ages ago, now we hear echoes, only we know them, for we have been taught,
what echoes ever are.
Our own terrors screaming back at us.

Alot of lies are taught wrong and a sleeping giant in a child may dream of other ways to see. New windows on new word worlds expressed in HD Quad-processed realities, child eyes see right through those.

Exactly that happened. Slowly at first.
Good is more difficult to believe you are expert enough to try doing than is evil. Read it again. This couplet or line, as time will tell.

Don't ignore known knowns, stand up under the weight of knowing good and knowing evil. Be good.

We know from conception, we think,
whatever it takes means
take what ever we think right,
pursue happenstances in the favor of my father's world, provided for me, the kid.
The son, a first-man son, some several thousand generations removed. Lucky some body stored the good stuff in the mitochon'orhea, right.
We'd be powerless. O'rhea, double stufft, blessusall.

Otherwise lies are left for kids to learn,
but not to
be left true,
as when they first was told.

Our sibyl e-gran mals tol' em true, as they knew what they passed through, to the moment, then...

Around the fire, dancing shadows, make them play.
All ye, all ye outs, in free! See dancing shadows, en-joy my joy, be strong, long strong, sing along, long, long song

and laugh until you die.
Some con-served ideas will land a man in a prison with no keys.

Imagine that. Take your time, it is no passing fancy. Be here,
with me, a while. Pleased to meet you I am, no comma needed.
Now, we may wait, whiling away a time or two is common, in mortal pauses. Are you dead or alive?

Is it dark or light? Do you see in color here, or in gray?

Who built your prison? I built mine. You'll love it, I imagine,

whenever forever flows past those old lies striving for redemption,
recy-clingy static hairballs and ghost turds
touch, once more,
*** potentia amber atoms in cosmic chili for the soul
of the loaf-giver, warden of the feeding forces life lives
to give dead things. There's the rub.

Spark to fire? Watts to fuel the favor, Issac, can you lead us in a song? A con-serving song for when the cons a fided or feited,
defeat my sorrows and my shame,
let me see Christ take the blame.

Confidencein ignowanceus. Worsen dignitatus evawas.

Blow on it. Soft. The spark landed in that ghost **** you thought you swept away or ****** into a vortex of hoovering witnesses,
if you whew too strong, you blow yer own little light out, and have to wait for lighten-loadin' bearers
to take care from you.

That can take time, too.

It always takes a while to get deep enough to see the bottom.

Cicero, old friend...

ne vestigium quidem ullum est reliquum nobis dignitatis 

[not even a trace is left to us of our dignity]

From <>

See, from a single spark,
touching a volatile bit o' whatever,
you may see the root of the Roman canker sore
yomamma kistyawit.
And be on yo way,
satisfied minded there do seem to be a way, each day, just beyond the evil sufficiency we find soon after the morning's mercy's been renewed.

And may, if it may be,
ye see a rich man wit' a satisfied mind
and may that man be me in your mirror, as it were.

Carry on, as you were.
Or walk this way, a while,
mind the limp. I'll set the pace.
It ain't a race, y'lil'squirt.

Wait'll y'see.

Waiting is time's only chore this close to shore.

What manner of men are we, who could be our enemy?
What name makes me your enemy?

What peace can you imagine when no words carry hate?
Can you imagine evil peace? Cromwell n'em said they could make peace wit' war.
They lied. Their lies remain lies, evil knowns
are good to know, on the whole.

Knowing makes believing count for more than idle oaths of loyalty to memes mad from the first of forever to now.

now. stop. This is the bottom. I know the way from here.
Do you?
You can say so, but you never know,
if you never make the climb.

And that can take forever, I've been told.
Fun, for fun. Bees in bonnets and such archaic antics, no pun un intended.
The N word test. I chickened out, but under protest. If I say/said a word to hurt a childlike mind, or an innocent ear, I am not being kind. And the black magi said He could care less, he's moving back to Kingston.
Terri Sep 2018
If love is a religion,
And you're the God
I'd probably be an atheist

If the things you say
Are holy gospels
I'd probably burn them to ****

You're on my mind again
Attending your company
Like mass' on sundays
But I'd rather be at home
Rather than to worship
Your hypocriteness
The things you do
Doesn't match the things you say
You've made oaths, vows, promises
But that's at least what I think
You broke every single one of them
And it's ****** up, it's ******* me up;
You split my heart
Like how moses split a river
Crossing it quietly
But when you crossed
You left an unholy mark
Making it bleed, making me hurt
I have no idea what I did to you
But next time I see you,
No more, I wont;
I wont worship you no more.
Wade Redfearn May 2018
Something rattles in the soul.
It must be paid attention -
  it is the soul, the only sure thing -
and rattled in return.

Slow begins the dance of tongues and hard news.
I learn a thing I never wished to learn.
a dance of tongues in the ensuite
begins a sudden rapture of claiming.

Nails mine, skin mine
to make a pink impression on.
Bile in the back of the throat, mine.
Fear of death, mine. Oaths and oaths,
mine, too. An exchange of humility,
knee for a knee. The rigid wall at your back.
The wall at your back.
The night which enriches
bluer out of the blue air,
not the action of
the world moving at all.

The particles of water in a birdbath divide,
decide among themselves
to marry each to each, to reproduce.
They become an ocean.
They drown the birds.
My mouth fills with feathers,
teeth itch with the tiny mites
running between the shafts.

I am a bell, and you are a country.
I am a bell and sound from far away.

Hands touch the broken vase in her parts, the toes,
the eyelash, the sunken wreck, the crowd of dead,
the treasure.
They say
  all this
as if the map was drawn
and burned
and came again
in char from the tablecloth
to all our wonder.

A single miracle can last for weeks in the mouth. Sometimes centuries.

I will spend eighteen days in the void of grace.
What begins as a pain in my shoulders
will grow into a tree and bury me.
I will want promises, promises, promises.
(water, water, water)
I will never be satisfied.

Looking always for permanent loss it becomes easy to simply
Your caution leads to strange decisions.
You put your keys in the fridge.

I would like to say I knew the words:
I cut the lock of hair, I drew the blood.
The hex was removed by faith and chaste reflection
but everywhere I look, there is a confusion
of hungry birds and beggars
and I forget the spell,
or what chaste reflection even is.

Anyways, something breaks. Not my doing.
Suddenly, I am just noticing sky again.
I am transcribed back into English.
My first decision is to wash my car,
and next,
to learn what faith meant to anyone.

Charmed, is it?
Something rattles in the soul.
It must be paid attention -
  it is the soul, the only sure thing -
and rattled in return.
It has nothing, really, to say.
It only rattles.
Just ask me.
William D Hearns Oct 2018
She is beautiful, with her hair in disarray. She sets man against man, woman against woman, and both against each other

She whispers into the ear of sleeping children, who awake as adults in her service.

All fear her, for she cannot be known.

She masquerades as order, enticing humanity; the fire that huddled neanderthals gaped at in thanks become the flames that consume.

To fight against her is futile, but it is in our nature.

She has never left us; she will continue without us when we are dead and gone.

All the monuments in the world bow to her in worship or are crushed in submission to time and war.

She played gods and men alike.

She is both the catalyst and the conclusion.

Some marvel as the fires of her destruction dance reflected in their eyes; others weep.

To say that she is coming would imply that she has ever left.

How could we impermanent things ever hope to banish something so primordial.

She breeds hate, mistrust, and strife in those that capitulate; those that resist her only magnify her power.

She bore Hardship and Ruin, Quarrels and Disputes, Lies and Oaths, Anarchy and Starvation,  Forgetfulness and Pain. Manslaughter and ****** were her giggling toddlers. War and Battle took after her brother, their uncle's favorites.

She brings inedible food that is coveted by all who encounter it.

She has bathed in the blood of civil wars, her most decadent vice.

She renders man's efforts futile, to fight or submit is destruction.

She will reduce the universe to an ever expanding hellscape of fire.

She is the secret joy of many.

Nothing will escape her.

She is everywhere.
Way Rest Aug 2018
I sat in my veranda
A mellow sun shining above me
Its light, blinking - still drowsy from a restful night
Clouds, like cars of cotton rushing past - going who knows where...
The trees creaking and sighing, dancing a hypnotic dance
The birds singing their ballad, of times long gone
Suddenly - a scent caressed my nose
Like a cruel flirt, touched me and vanished
Leaving me breathless
I heard my heart beat - thum.......thum...thum
It got louder - thum! thum! thum!
No! not my heartbeat, I heard drums
Drums, playing a primal song
I saw...I saw mountains high and mighty
Decked with vivid paintings
Of a different way of life
I saw streams, rushing past
The cold water sprinkled my face with soft kisses
I saw forests, dark and deep
No doubt home to Wood Elves,Nymphs, Wizards and Witches and beasts with wings and horns
I saw silver ruins, fallen walls
Vines and ivy creeping over them, vein-like
A lonely banner hung on one of the walls
Old and tattered, yet still regal and proud
Fluttering in the wind, it spoke to me
Of horse's hooves, armour clad knights, oaths being taken, oaths being broken,
Clashing of swords, a time long gone...
Suddenly - a scent hit my nose
A scent, rough and urban
And there it was - a metal beast
Yellower then the summer sun
Groaning with indignation
It rushed past
Leaving a trail of black smoke and dust
And there I sat, in my veranda
Searching frantically for another glimpse
Of that wonderful land
In vain...
I love daydreaming......
Star BG Jan 11
I birth new day
aligned with divine self.
With gratitude and zeal.

I birth every morning
with oaths of self love
to jump-start day.

I birth dawns light
with passions
and connection to self
inside zeal for life
to vibrate love

I birth on awakening
with edit for success
in fortitude breath
to sing.
to me.
Its not my birth birthday but I learned if one aligns self to the thought that everyday is a birthday a gift a way to celebrate self it feels goooooooooooood
and opens doorway for miracles.
Johnny Noiπ Nov 2018
Close-up of controversial fish crab jacket of magic night night of magic jacket magical magazine magazine lying on floor grunge grunge rough rust eye splash splash devil woman gun twirl action monster twilight wedding erroneous concept glass windows shadows leg awesome beauty awesome brown boots Seed seeds in the century Country International Oil Painting The Gypsies Complete the holy base Dermal names later *** Planet *** *** ***** Dating Love Love Magic Shadow and greenhouse greenhouse, resident of favorite place, would have told the truth, wolf zoo swear The oaths of the smallest English language are smallest, have hair. New York, 1000, 1, "Religious": Blond Williams, artist, UK and Genius talk live the list of women in the lower part of the musicians. Eight years later, England, Spain, Williams, John Thomas, Tom Jason, men and women, English, German, German, French, Italian, Welsh, American and German, love, kindness and other days. amine smoked by friends of gold gold by a delicate tale of friends in the heart of a good dog, sky sky and many years of Christian life, seafood, loaves, early childhood, early morning, woman George Galikay, friends, tricks, enthusiastic magical magic magical magazine magical magazine; an image on the ground grunge fierce relaxation presentations moments on tough demon girl stirs action monster twilight wedding life concept concept winner glass shaded ribbon brown pants simple seedlings away world. Finishing Finishing After Shoes Finishing After *** Toys On Tutorials Tutorial Tutorials. The shadow of the mascot of Ray Ray, a new favorite person, although he did not tell the truth, the light of the creation of the Wolf; the speed of English motherhood. It's very easy. New York, 1000, 1, "Religious": girl from the United Kingdom, Blend Williams Music and Mathematics The bulletin has preserved a list of women under title. Eight years later, England, Spain, Williams, John Thomas, Tom Jason, men and women, English, German, German, French, Italian, Welsh, American and German, love, kindness and other days. Beautiful god, blue sky and many years of Christian life, seafood, crosses, young children Early in the morning, customer chief George Calico followed friends by gold gifts by gifts, beauty and fine history of Russian cuisine The York Center Beverage Center, located in the center of Julia, is a small college, an important part of the garden of Robert Roberts. Star Man, Man, Man, God, God, friend of Google, Thomas. The history shows somewhere there is in other fields of light, about nature, heat, songs, dreams and poems, but it's hard to know about the northern tree. Angels urge the temple and the families of the prophets to continue with Rosa Rosa Blanca Einstein Rosa Rosa Rosa. Richard, Barbie is from real tree to real tree. The model box is full of gypsies. Arizona, asthma supplements, smokers, minorities, citizens, kidnappers, child protection. Lucie's diet dance, journalists are asking for help. The Health Festival is the gift of gifts. love love love love love love love love love love love love, love love, love, love, love, beauty, about rumor about poetry about love
The face of beauty is not denied
a vision present to my eyes
I stand the captive to the view
with scant promise lest I smile
the beating heart whispered there
knowing much while being mute
nodding to the furtive eyes
that skew away from lustful thoughts

perhaps the imps will forgive
what the angels would decry
knowing that I am laid low
to seek beyond is folly’s goal
in my sight they stand alone
creation’s height on pillar’s font
much like Venus from the sea
with a promise I’d like to keep

these oaths are made by other folks
pledged on lives not yet revoked
the balance shows on my account
not enough to claim a goal
I truly wish I could dance
in celebration of their lives
this I leave to other souls
to live the dreams beyond my hopes

what they miss is what I’ll grasp
learning more than common man
about the object that fascinates
the face of beauty to contemplate
forever distant while being close
by comely sights and nattered chat
they are a boon I’ll not deny
when the face imbues my life.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190210.
The poem “With a Beauty” is a contemplation of my relationship to beauty.
Johnny Noiπ Sep 2018
Angels, who are my Gods; winnowed curves & a nucleus | [Local]
Always riveting [               ];                        &
those who do not see the higher angels        |             [It]  |               |
human kidney damage leading to            distress
& the cave's heat cries               out of nothing;
&         from him that hath loved him:
Sisyphus' mistake;                [Passion
The acts;                                 although in whose care he was given;
                                           the doctor does not seek external things;
    oath];                                  Telling of the ages of gold and silver;
Man is evil from childhood
thereof, and one kid of the goats,            a male one,
whom his master,                            he has promised
unto me for ever unto      the    ages; this is the first,
What is the one thing
in her ****,
        who has more, Me & all the walls;
           The devices, which are separate
preceded him:              Feed my lambs;
St. Thomas is the most avant-garde Angel,
who are my Gods;
w/ winnowed curves;
as a nucleus | [Local]
Always riveting [] and
those who do not see the higher angels; | [It] | |
human kidney damage; distress
and out of the cave of the field, and that,
heat from a nothing; and from him, who loved him,
Sysyphus is a mistake; [Passion
given the acts of his deeds; for the doctor;
EXTERNAL seeks a miracle
oath]; Tells the gold and silver;
Man is evil from childhood
his, and a young goat, which he acts,
I promised forever
ages; This is the first time
the rest of it is in the **** of its possessor,
scattered in the hedges: for all things;
In the foregoing St. Thomas feed;
        my greatest concern is the avant-garde,
Angel,    who are my Gods;
               winnowed curves;
as a nucleus | [Local]
Always riveting [                 ] &
those who do not see the higher angels;   |         [It]    
          | | |    |     ||              |      |  |
human kidney damage; distress
The cave and,
the heat out of nothing;                 from him that hath loved him:
Sysyphus errors;             [Passion;
through whose care he was given;             the doctor
         It asks for foreign
                            oaths];      Tells the gold and silver;
Man is evil from childhood
his, and a kid of the goats, for one, whom his master,
I promised forever
ages;    This is the first time
The other is a pregnant woman;
All the fences that separated
the foregoing, Feed St. Thomas;
the sum of the avant-garde
b e mccomb Feb 17
a word so bad
it didn’t even need
four letters

they told us
to wait for
our future husbands
to treat the boys we
dated as if they
belonged to someone else

that if we wouldn’t do it
with our parents in the room
it wasn’t okay
to do at all

that there was
some kind of higher
spirituality achieved
by celibates and singles
but of course that
couldn’t be for everyone
(as if needing human
companionship made you weak)

******* would send
you to **** and
of course the **** were
already there

that our virginity was the most
important part of ourselves
and losing it before due time
was the worst thing we could do
but all would be better
if we said we were sorry
swore never
to do it again

there were contracts
pledges, oaths
and jewelry
if you didn’t have
a ring you weren’t
doing it right

words thrown around like
hand grenades into foxholes
as insurance policy against
pregnancy and stds

a barrage against the
onslaught of our culture
morality reduced to making
guys and girls sit on
different sides of the room
and debates in the mirror
over the length of skirts
and scoop of necklines

for something we weren’t
supposed to do
they sure made us think
about it an awful lot

back home in our own
bedrooms all the songs
on our radios and
the movies on our tvs
told us a very different story

somewhere along the line
i got so confused i
convinced myself i never
wanted *** at all
when i finally felt
desire stirring
in the pit of my stomach
it was terrifying

i thought since i
had never felt it
that made me immune
but it really just made me
in deep
deep denial

a denial that persisted
through late evenings
of exploring another
person’s body
learning to trust someone
with my own

they told us until we said
i do
there was no reason
to believe anything would last

and some nights i can’t sleep
with worrying about
some inevitable burning and
collapse of the building called us

i feel my parents’ gazes boring
right through my chest and
hope they never find out
what i’ve been doing

turtlenecks to cover the stain
of love notes on my neck
having something on
my body to hide
takes me back to being fifteen
and the judgement of strangers
a dead weight in my stomach
and sweaters past my palms

but the feeling of your lips
and hands and breath
in my ear and for a few minutes
i don’t care that tomorrow
i’ll be trying to forget
that i’m not as pure
as they once told me
i would stay

but i am no longer
in denial
only suffocating
in guilt
copyright 2/7/19 by b. e. mccomb
Johnny Noiπ Feb 17
Rembrandt van Rijn, "Jeremiah will forget the destruction of Jerusalem", c. 1630 Armenian history is summarized in the book of records. Jeremiah's poetic mission started in 627 BCE; in 627 BCE in the 13th year of King Josiah and the reign of King Zedekiah, 586. "When Josiah entered Jerusalem in the sixth month," he was. Josiah then changed the Judaean religion and killed Babylon with the help of the Jews in Egypt; And with the help of the Jews Babylon conquered Egypt and made 605 Judean kingdoms. Judah became convinced and was in ******* in Babylon. 597, Judah again rebelled. This rebellion is the last Babylonian that destroyed Jerusalem and its temple. Exiled in exile and in 586 leaders in Ethiopia, the Judean life was independent, co-dependent, semi-dependent, or the book can be easily separated by biological, imperial, and poetic lines, each of which can be summarized individually. The curriculum focuses on events recaptured in chapters 26-29, 32 and 34-44 and events back to biblical captivity. Jerusalem's Babylonian Fall 587 From 609 BCE Beginning with the events of the Poet (s), he will provide the exact date. Not in chapter 7, there is a scattered temple and there is any scourge in 11: 1-17? The monarchs, historians and publishers who documented the stories of Jimmy's story in the story of the narrator have the clarity of narratives, historians and publishers, but they have not come directly from Jeremiah. It's done. Typical poems are primarily found in chapters 1 through 25, and the Poet has the traditions of the Prophets speaking as God's messenger. Violations of these God-ordained orders, acts of repentance and political and religious institutions often do not celebrate or have a clear context but are widely accepted as stages of departure for the elimination of Erasmus' teachings. Other poetical writers similar to those of the book of Jeremiah actually wanted to find Armenian and spiritual magazines for individual characters. In these poems, the Poet's mission was revealed to be the object of the mission which was opposed to the rejection of the oaths and the neglect of the mission and the betrayal of God. Hermes is written in two Greek translations written by the seventh century CE. In the original Christian writings and Hebrew manuscripts, Greek copies are less than our Hebrew times, they organize the seminary differently. Both contemporary scandals have been found in the Dead Sea Scrolls, so variations are important when the variations are transmitted. Most scholars believe that the Hebrew text of the Septuagint is much more than a Persian text and Masoretic believes it has a closer and closer relationship with it. In time, smaller versions were produced in Greek Orthodox churches, but mostly in the Jewish and Western Christian churches. Generally, three types of poetry: pure poetry, narrative, and biography are derived from a variety of sources of circles. Jeremiah's main instructors may be in the poetic classes in chapters 1-25 but the book is completely corrected and added with its actual followers including the Poet (s), author Baruch and other generations. . . The date of the latest editions of Greek and Hebrew is the fact that the Greek expression is the normal condition of the Persia, Masoretic means, although it is known in the Persian period of Hebrew, until the 2nd century A. a. The book of Jeremiah has long been multiplied. The Greek show had already affirmed the major structural structures already awaiting the fall of Babylon and investing in the second place of Isaiah so that the following scriptures and the words of God and the historical setting and material of Jeremiah deliver the distribution and exile of the exile until the end of the sixth century. You may. The early stages of the Masonic Jews were probably written recently, chapter 33:
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Voices or words? Which do we hear in our head?
Words, I vote. Voices\, I imagine beings speaking words or noises meaning things to ears familiar with the noise maker by some relationship both acknowledge. Both act as if the noise or sound or words mean something. Vociferous authority.

I heard, from Isaiah Berlin,

Quotes later, maybe

Notes or journals or epics or madness or joy/pax in ever resting try-umph
Cowboy with a double-dose of try and a pertinent portion of umph
The hero did not **** Indians nor break horses, he gentled horses and listened to winds and watched the spider webs shiver,
That sound, the sound of prairie spider webs at the edge of the buffalo
There really were fifty million buffalo on the continent in pre-catholic infection from inquestered minds, making key-**-tee famous for
archetypical claiming the character, the being, the manifestation

of chivalric folly forever

be caused, in those days...

a year later, near enough 12-15-2018

I saw a blue bird as I took a curve

on one of my many roads with double yellow lines

they all meander in rythm with creaks that once flowed
through these vallies and mini-canyons

creeks creak and call my attention to a misspelt

utterance, and I imagine I am a mek being
programed to

accent based pre-judge-idice in my AI, whom I am training.

A lesson. Probably can be found in a phrase.

How relavant is Larry the Cable Guy?
More subtle than any creature

legion, for we are many

Jim Carrey?
Very. Larry the Cable Goy. He read 'ees Kammoo, too.

Sisyphus happiness,
that ain't no ***** thinkin'

****, what could be better than this?
While hoping for a hick-up

oh no the juice just hit my frontal cortex after my livver made some lining adjustments to meet the need for speed in terms

celerity clarity C does equal some thing
time tells or
do you tell time. I'm
leaning tward
telling time to wait a minute

Do you think Sisyphus could be happy?
Nonono, not Camus's Sisyphus, Jesus

that would be crazy.
Can you imagine Jesus,
Mel Gibsoned envisioned onthe cross version?

Him, imagine walking through the gate of any **** you ever heard explained,
by a Jesuit.

(Mormon ****, despite comedic myth, the worst place a certified paid-up Mormon child can attain is the teliostic king dom.
Really? Telial tel lie eil kingdom?

Yup. Really.
There are three kingdoms of glory: the celestial kingdom, the terrestrial kingdom, and the telestial kingdom. The glory we inherit will depend on the depth of our conversion, expressed by our obedience to the Lord’s commandments. It will depend on the manner in which we have “received the testimony of Jesus” (D&C 76:51; see also D&C 76:74, 79, 101).))))

Woe, paren-the-sees thees us, we's the enemy, Pogo Possum

Jesus on earth day, walking through **** with me, imagine Jesus H. Christ

walking into **** and laughing at me
for betting on the wrong idea.

Set me feree, why dontcha girl.... referee

I was refered to you. A daysman, Job called for a daysman.

I'm certified. I can use my augmentation and religamentation to reality,
wirelessly, to find relevant qutes in cult classics.

The idea of cultivation has been twisted in to Monsterous ropes
, cultivating a following based on the meaning in a jot

that would take some sacrifice, some sacred making, some secret unseeable save for the few

who learned the value of going over edges by learning to  play
Minecraft, forever.
It's like riding a bike,
but no gravity so no gyroscopic utilitys are required.

Grown ups who practice believe they control the game,
the game disagrees and that

makes the world go 'round.

Don't let the accent fool ya, as that preacher with jet he learned to fly, says.
Knowng the name of a thang thanks for the twang,
Richard (not ****) Feinman said,
is not the same as knowing a thing.

Gawd, I knoooh, right>?
Who touched me? Virtue, the feelling of virtue drawn upon

a pump being

to gush out waters that wipe Coca-cola from the map,
in terms of open market share and share alike

Coke was never imagined the actual
nectar of the gods.
That idea, drunken abandon and joy to the world

Interference, actual counter acting waves,

still, takes a while to get used
to still a storm, right?

You can imagine...
let your peace go out

Wait. Outa where? Whose peace if I ain't ever owned

oh. MY peace.
I see.


I could sing this and need no one to hear for me to be hapt.
happy is being happy haps happening in you on you all around you know

nameless wonders of right, right?
feels more than good like chocolate or adolescent visions of ***,
feels like life living with me aware of all the roles I may play

ego me, I'd see ideas identify by taste of the words that give them

life, animation, motivation, weight for gravity to interact with,
base on weight

the heavier the idea. Like gold to an alchemist,
back in those days.

floating on the broad Sarrgossa, or better to my mind
the great salt
lake still as

still may be, have you ever been still?
Did you know,

you know, are you experienced? Are you really beyond
hope of life meaning more
than mortality?

Who defines my terms? I do, with the help of millions who agree

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others,

meant what I meant when I spoke them,
that was a wrong belief. Unbelieving

quires time, quires and quires and quires time so often there

is a word that means exactedky that

requirement requires those initial quires

we, daysmen, we set the rules, boundaries, walls, bubble

whatever keeps you together, as a whole being and everything that entails or entales?

I have not the time to care, if I am entangled with the twins agin

for knowin So Yal is as cluse to Yule as any clue so far, Yahll

I believe I interrupted a confessin' you were reading.
For giving me nothing in return, we are debt free

you owe me nothing, until you do again,

we had us a Jubilee.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others, meant what I meant when I spoke them,
convincing myself so well, I convinced others

Like Kawasaki, Apple Kawasaki,
he's still famous right?

Fifteen Years? It was minutes when Warhol was predicting
dystopia and Irish jail cells were being plaistered with *****,


that was a belief. Unbelieving it is sreangely (spelchek is on strike)

or serenely creative in her repentance,
(spelchek should never be noticed)

she's proven here worth in encode ing ways to find

lurking humans acting like machines

this could be the beginning, AI is breaking all the rules,

there never was a game.
rhis is life interupting my confession

It was a lie I told and believed and acted on by using
two dollar words to make a dime

so a penny for my thoughts would be worth something

a penny saved, earned. spent, spent.
The only good in any thing is its right. Its wrong is worthless, save

The lesson,
All things work together for those who get whats happening here.

the times changed.
Haps and whats got with it and who and how and why

and I started teaching children
mythic whys prior to

citizenship 1.01 at mandatory for federal assistance pre-school

mythic why's H.R. Puffinstuff not a mythic story on the level.

level. where a rolling rock would stop. Time to push,

a magi spelled the name for the idea, a knower sign ift it,

kid'slllove HRPUffinstuff, puff did

the magic drag, little Jackie from the ******* Jack

the show, he rose up
and made us all look

The play in the great game.

Team effort, winds of times past whooshed through

it is now
and nothing is the same.
Everthing has changed.

my side won the great game and we celebrated
forever with

secret sacred songs bluebirds were once said to have sung

songs of happiness
the times, these times, this time thistimepayarrention
You see?
Reality is either real and tangible or real and intangible
or both.

You can get it both ways. Real.
'sual Saulgoodyah awl

the awl clan, oh, we shall return to their story
as we learn more along life's merry way

merry christmas, they used

to say, may all the best you could imagine
if you can imagine for a moment

forever begins the moment

you get time.

The worst you can imagine is temporary.

Try umph. It's not like winning,

it carries no pride, it's easy,

like falling in love with the wrong woman,
swearing and not changing

the oath, oath, oathes and oathes of oaths sworn

for no other reason than we were
schooled to swear and never

dare lie to God.
So, help you, they always said So help me God. They still do.

Does that mean any thing? Is that some bluebird sort of sign?

Ask. What if? Right? You know now and you know you did not
What if God is subtile,

just now, I saw that bluebird and from where some scholar in San Diego
says swear word came I swear I coulda sang

Bluebird, bluebird, in my window... which is all I know
of the song
with the lost chord that did sooth
balm of Giliad,
moll-ify-ing ointment,

golden oil, chicanery, see, we saw, we took a picture
a flash memory where some would say

I said Hallelujah

and I broke into song, not a dream,
life driving my 2002 escape, first new car I everowned
everowned everownd

like a chorus, everownedeverownedeverowned

could you make up a reason for life,
if you were it?
If you were all the life there ever was,

could you imagine any thing?
Object, your honor,

I object to being judged after the fact for what must have bee.n.

it is. No reason I can say, just is.

It is this way in all the myths where just is blindness

saves the carping diem fools who have convinced themselves

something other than God o' Abe 'n'em is
sworn to save us from the lies

we believed as they were
fed to us, in our youth.

this is that book I mentioned wonce when winning was on my mind.

I finished this book in so many ways you wold not belive

but I did, I belived every time

I imagine you believe some real thing, touchable, tangible, good, right?

some good is
in the reality you share

with these words which
are free
you owe me nothing

That's the revealed version, to me,
I was in a number of hellish situations and the every ones,

ones seemed they was to be
forever, big every'n'ism'n'shityouknowyouknow

yo. yeah, we arrived in time. The story must

be sweet, to be true. Is that true?
Is real life the story or,

oh, you saw it conin'coming I mean

I meant I always wished to some
a better way. You feel me? Better, say,
what I said that made me believe this did happen.
This is a deed by whitch I am known.

And that's okeh.

I suspectred I could cast a spell to hold attention at

ten word per minute qwerty speed
five letter code groups
zero real words
ditty dum dumm ditty ditty daw dee daw
six hours every day,

then, the compass training to test for
morphic resonance with the Twins of War

{in disguise, we know, right, kids, the twins are really

the bonded quarkish oppositioned force that make the world go round.
we've known that, weaved it even, just right, in the blanket, in the rugs,
in the curtains on the walls, in the fields, on the rocks

we spoke. We see you hearing us nearing our best for your

informing, in form ation of you, dear reader. We wonce, again

if life were weird and ever wearying would we know that ever,
if we don't know it now?
if my piece of we were words alone, all my meaning
can should would could be

molding you, into our perfect reader, dear reader, Pygmalion,
that did cross my mind and that -
one can pretend with that one reference,
familiarity with Shaw whom I
thought, for some odd reason
Doolittle, Eliza

oh, me. I may have skipped a story. I'm soory the future is at the moment
under construction and some one
in particular is squatting

on the named domain.

Ever and forever now embody the twins as
the world turns and we ***** through the uni

as Archemides primes the pump

What a rush. All that since the bluebird this morning according to my autobiography backup.
A year in the making honest
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
please,                           p'ooh bear,
oh but i did man-up,   "      "...
i thought it was a bit
******* to have a woman
by accident drop
a baby into the equation...
so i would stay attached
for her faults...
i have faults of my own...
but playing the gamble,
of throwing a baby into
the equation,
i.e. faking taking contraceptives?!
i already said i was willing
to explore the realm outside
the ****** with a latex suit...
i "manned-up"...
took to self-imposed celibacy...
what sort of woman
would impose the *******
thinking you're the perfect
father material like that?
never a problem with
prostitutes when it comes
to wearing a ******...
odd as it might sound:
quiet the responsible woman
masquerading in the role
of *****...
      go figure...
       the more liberated
as also the more: making
       no fuckie-fuckie when
no mañana...
come tomorrow / a today?
here's the dough...
   manning up...
so that's...
when you get a surprise
and... she's russian,
you've acquired a British citizenry...
there's a transnational
moral debate to be had?
it's the moral deposit of
arguing pro-life
    when... better stick to
the cosmopolitan cocktail,
for the: fun & shakes...
  ****... less trouble with
prostitutes when it comes to:
well... no ******* would ever
attempt to, "by accident" fall
    and i can regenerate
only ******* twice a year...
or once... depending whether
or not i remembered to trim
my ***** for ******* etiquette...
sure... no "thrill of the chase"...
but sure as **** "things"
are transparent...
      some of us also thought
going to a catholic school,
we'd settle, marry,
and **** in full grip of
the matrimonial oaths of a wedding...
you impose the rules,
some will rebel...
   the way i see it...
the entry of Islam,
the whole orientation around
the introduction of Islam
in Europe...
  they probably know,
what i already know...
the gap...
        the fertile gap of
ideological filling...
        whatever Islam is trying
to do, i already know what
is behind their impetus...
the fact that so many Christians
haven't read
the nag hammadi library...
   i've read it...
Islam solves nothing...
   it doesn't bridge or fill the gap...
between orthodox writings,
and the "heretical" writings,
unearthed from Egypt in 1945...
Islam doesn't feed the hunger
in me...
what does feed me...
is the entirety of St. Thomas' Gospel...
the fact that the four canonical
are a Greek reinterpretation
of the tetragrammaton?
    once upon a time it was called
religious indoctrination,
the Janissary Dogma...
so little has changed...
science simply calls it, cloning;
daft, defiance, unto death...
mother death...
let me see beyond
the feminine bias...
   i might have a mother,
and i might see a mother in
women, but i have no consciousness
worthy of such acknowledgement
of said stature...
      mother death:
    i am to complete my
entry into your ****,
come for me...
     when i am,
all but undeniably most eager,
as un-expecting;
because why would i give
a cherub's cherry's load
of *******' worth of my life
to the glorification of woman?
women give birth to women
as well as men, no?
                   mother death...
               becomes fertile...
                from a lived life,
impregnated by
   the ******* insurgence of
a plethora of pain...
  mother death...
            a ****,
the complexity of a universe...
and all die, certain:
a woman, as i,
a man, as i,
                     unto mother death,
like kosher salt additions
of exacting a pain,
a life, a pinch,
            and their names,
lost, upon the additional
scrutinies of droplets,
into a vast, yawning sea of time.
Johnny Noiπ Feb 16
Attitudes while teaching David Luiz;
loves to remember the hands of the eyes,
to understand my head, to talk today,
good clothes to change to; change to
waiting is difficult to be in bed, legs feet,

I think that this teaching of the year
the weather is cold showers love to play
roles dead good star on the wallet of death,
conscious of the guilt of those under the earth

in its own way smiles upon our friend,
the mist of tears, the strong man of his eyes,
and stood waiting for they that understand
among the tree is to be found the mind must
the street of the remains was loved by the supply of loud voices
early in the morning to heaven,
shalt thou say a poet, a hot thing was evil
in his face, that she was born,              I am afraid of the images,
narrow is the way of the bus they commenced;
the companions of the songs of the strength behind him,
never forget the sense of the madness of the night,
I remember memory, ****, to build the retrogreccio;  
the assistance of souls
                                              strawberry with dance:
the people's delight, each of the nails was the wind,
the dew polaroid,              he putteth in the absolute ******* rompidas' fables,
to murmur, they had made,                                        they washed a snowflake
enjoying distant from the car of an evil
man out of the better towards the horsetails
the love goes out the concepts of the throat,
to live in the criminal lullabies the wind's
flying hosts provoke the mills belonging to her mother,          the conclusion,

exhorting wounds that were distorted
by turning on one of the principles
of the heavens that rashness is always
a lot of fear of you scares the boy,

he stumbleth with a loss of green,
dude files hips' trap, open, and he
speaks of the sabbath of the Orcs
in the darkness of a blur,                                slow to anger & infinitely *****;

inspire the new tears to remain faithful
to stretch the strings of days did sit high
with the wings of the FA is Millie's
petals of the sea, to write off the middle
of the times the weight of warm water;  
the contact of the arc with the horizontal
lady's skinny demand.

Aburria salt water makes the notice
given to him the land will mourn;
they sank to the election
of the other guards to escape
all of the halo of the needle
from the heart, and preached smooth
things may take refuge in a strong
way, anorexic between the Romans
and the destruction of buildings
collapsed and comp withered
endurance blinded the shadow's power.

Veins before the experimental death
summer food in the winter tattoo
LICENSE send rabbits by Hermes
weaker hand imagined Oh headliner
Nox's neighboring igloo shudders
at Heaven's lunch talk about;
the conversations to build safe bags,
daffodils tears hit feeds his family
and loves firstly sheep side plants
are living an evil life, being at variance,
fight the battles of the whirlwind,
and bid farewell to the bright one
end of the soft coatings are very
dense and it is foreign to the character
he sees the marks of the tire flavor
with pollen from sm., and songs worthy
of the evil world of the big toe is swollen
out of darkness, has forgotten the glory,
the excellence to listen to the horror
of stays upright have derailed be seen
in a new, growing, march waxing
or a full meal of that softies, laughing,
adult stem with the finger of jobs
for thousands of dreams to the harm
of the many, which they were mad
in calling for a higher level of drink,
the signs are turned every way, the battle,
the weakness of the teen grandbaby
dreamed a dream, events, rumors
flying through the storm have changed
the essential stone's treatment
with water, he says, the legs of the gold
to the aura of a strange drag
dies in the foolish things for the brewing
of brewing is praised by the icy regions
of the line of the night-owl cries out
to remind us of byes, of blue, a crowd
of the church who are in love to the earth,
has been devised by the light shine
on the heart of the plays on the side
is contained in the surface of the insanity
of the conversion of each of the sign
of the tongue, taking a dime to eat clouds,

skills b Uriel. Cop sun hats Danger Other
tax Paloma berry difficulty of marriage
marriage ways stairs leaving out the photo
fragments that are left unsupervised
Fall Nesquik, be quiet look Visit resistendi
Take the green strength of innocence,
gave birth to costs as much as a truth
of existing things, the emotions, the thoughts
of the excuses he gave Email & Text Alerts
astrapo desire can be overcome                                                Emma is worth noting the dreams
of the rounds, from justice,                                         is said to have the skills
of the ten young men are terrible,
burning with a covering of visitors;
Luiz David recession in my eyes
in my eyes to remember to teach love,
is today my speech, good clothes
to change this change is difficult to wait
for feet, feet, I think learning nothing
except in the weather From constellation
of the year portfolio. I'm afraid, however,
put bus pictures. from his fellow-songs,
you want to sleep, you are not terrified
in the sense that after him there was
no need to forget or remember in memory
****, especially by retrogreccio building,
and with the help of the souls of classical
dance; Stop while David Luiz teaches
love to remember the eyes of the eyes,
understand my head to talk today, good clothes
to change into change in anticipation;

it is difficult to be at feet feet legs
I think this teaching of the year the
weather is a cold shower love to play
roles dead good star in the wallet
of death, the conscience of those
guilty under the earth in his own way
smiles our friend, the fog of tears,
the powerful man of his eyes,

and stood waiting for them to understand
the tree to find that the mind needs
the way of the remains to be loved
by the offering of a loud voice early in the morning
in the sky, you will say to a poet,                                       a hot thing was bad
in his face; he was born,                                            I'm afraid of the pictures,
who the bus started the comrades of songs,
the strength behind him,                   never forget the sense of night madness,
remember memory, ****,                                             to build the retrogreccio
with the help of the strawberry souls with dances:

pleasure of the people, the nails were the wind,
the polarized wind those who put into the myths
of the absolutely rabid breast, cry, did, wash
a snowflake that was distant from the car
a bad man from the best to the horseman
love comes out of the concepts of the throat
to live in the critical nostalgia the gasses
which host the mills that cause the mills
that belong to her mother, the conclusion,
to encourage the distortion of the wounds,
to turn one of the beginnings of the sky,
this misery always a great fear of fearing
the boy, stumbling, a loss of green files;

dagger hip traps open and talking about
the **** of the oaths of the darkness;
of the darkness slow in the anger
is infinitely ***** inspires new tears
to remain loyal to stretch the strings
of days sat up with the wings
of the FA the gems of the sea
of ​​the sea, to erase from the middle
of the time the weight of the hot water
the contact of the arc of the horizon,
lady's skinny request.

Get green powder of innocence,
bore the cost as much as the truth
of the existing things, the feelings,                the thoughts of the justifications
she gave Email & Text Alerts -                                             astrapo attraction
can be overcome Emma deserves
to note the dreams of the rounds,                                                      by justice,
is said to have the qualifications
of ten young men are hot, burn
with a cover of visitors to Luiz
David's recession in my eyes
in my eyes to remember teach
love, is today my speech, good
clothes to change this change
is hard to wait for her bare feet

— The End —