- - - and i have been thirteen years out,
thirteen cast out, in it to
impress with some congress
and break a rhyming scheme
with some unrelated information
that could – and would –
ramble on and on, trapped in a
roundabout and listless format
pressed upon from birth in
mimicking action of that conception.
of anyones, of graphic denial
to linger in bliss and in blind
parasitic servitude.
- - - and i went for a cigarette,
and basked in the sun on a
November-ending day.
and i thought
of my plans, and how i am
pathing myself; and i thought
of my writing, and how i am
advancing myself; and i thought
of my life, and how i am
fulfilling myself; and i thought
of my death, and will i be
able to accept myself. and in on
in repetition, once again
in haste, in waste, in mending
of past-lives and weaving their
threads into this greater fabric.
- - - and my **** is constantly hard,
and i try to be shameful of Sin
on the long winter nights.
then there’s a point in exhaustion
when the mind stops. stoic absence.
“what brought you to this town?”
a bad decision, a woman.
“mind if i pray’d for you?”
if you want.
“mind if i pray’d right now?”
one hand grasped in both of his,
‘oh heavenly . .’
kindness out into the world.
and my ***** constantly hard
and my lungs tarred
and a harsh word traded for prayer.
- - - and perception becomes skew’d
with the last drop of sanity
cryin’ forth to ride the snake,
to nip at Apollo’s heels in
his retreat at the end of night.
and to wail from my place of rest
at the loss of the Sun’s mistress,
to the loss of a lover given.
logic null’d by the body of another,
inert love, nothing more than
a little friction.
we press’d against each other
with hopes that we could
impress upon anothers physicality.
venial sin, so long as confess’d.
congenial sins we are bound to regress.
- - - and i beg to be set free,
beg to be loose’d,
to have the notch that is me
relieved of a taut string.
to feel my force release’d
through the heart of another.
to be witness to a love
called ones own while Ross
wails on with his epic poem.
we fail as the red and white
haul us to a stroboscoping stop –
intermittent breathing and panic.

She sets tries in the Evers,
And with a fingerly snap
Does hope to move others
Toward a self aiding trap.
With a mirror none friendly,
Save a well tailored mask,
Don't waste your time here.
And don't even ask.

She may now be pathing,
And facing her truths.
But I'll bide still my watches,
And wait out her proofs.
I wrestle with nothing,
All but processed the pain.
I care for her now,
As the falling of rain.

I.

April made port.
The hordes of sand stood ready; surveilled
the eccentricities of April with a judging
eye. Lightwinds seem to sturggle pathing as if
they were still learning cantrips. No blood no magic.
All is well with my soul.

The crooning of the bony earth woke the
slumbering April-bud. It sang in seismic trembles.
We danced with the needles that recorded this symphony.
The ticking of your hair. The elevated pulses of
sharp, angled red; we rejoiced in the every spike.

Ruminations preserved.

II.

Sometimes, I wish there were
parking lots for ants in front of a bar
where they would swap stories while
drowning in vats of apple saliva.

Their antennae would sway to and fro,
and there would be proper queues which
would make the sight more stunning and
post-apocalyptic. There would be lots
of kissing. There would be courtesy and curtsies.
There would be stories about patriotism; how
they so love their Queen and would fight
for Queen and colony and breadcrumbs and peas.
There will be no discrimination; no one
shall look at one ant and say, “Hey, sugar-lover;”
the winged will fall in line as much as
the crawling red and black.

Ruminations reserved.

III.

O cold, cold, Earth, t’was your day, in echoing chime!
The miters sanctified by satyr priests bore bare
relations succinctly longed for and wanted! Godspeed!
The atmosphere wears its gown, the Aurora, in celebration!
The drum-line needs no motivating, it goes ever on, the snares
rumbling in sync with the fire-ants marching in time,
the fire-ants marching in time! Never before had a white flag
been as unnecessary. O cold, cold Earth,
cruise the orbit with this enchanting chanting, ever-going on.

Ruminations deserved.

IV.

The Queen is dead.
Long live the Queen.

*Ruminations unheard.

Rhyming is timing.
Loving isn't nothing.
Knowing is going,
Anywhere you want to be.

Teaching is needing.
Laughing is pathing.
Knowing is going,
Anywhere you want to be.

Reading is needy.
Believing is being.
Knowing is going,
Anywhere you want to be.

Writing is tiring.
Playing is funing.
Knowing is going,
Anywhere you want to be.

Good-bying is depressing
Helloing is joying.
Knowing is going,
Anywhere you want to be.

It was a blind pick type of match, premade
You're a full kit, a pro, a stunner
But my focus, my chase, my dive, my pathing
For you, my target, to you, my destination, were on lockdown

With a flash spell you summoned
I was instantly cast
Unsuspecting, you took me off guard
Hooked, gank, gap closer, leash, pull

I was a full tank
building up my defenses
MRes, taking care to keep myself safe from the ****
But I'm Rdy, a Sleeper OP

I'll Hold
I'll cover your lane
Defend your tower
Protect your base

A Rambo attempt; diving in alone
A Proxy strategy; high risk high reward
A Skillshot; an aim that can potentially miss

Say you'll commit,
That you won't retreat
Say that you'll fight
Until the battle is complete

To my Champion, my Main,
My FotM
FF; I surrender my heart
No DC, No MIA, No QQ

WP my love GJ
GL my love HF

Eastward we marched toward the Black-Water Tower.
Every stout hero aloft by their willpower
We knew the bloodshed the pathing would bring
March'd we with willful and unyielding hardening;
March did we eastward,
To Black-Water tower.

Damnable scourge is the Black-Water Tower.
Watching our coming with malice and glowering
Knowing what death it brings
Naught did we cower!
March did we onward,
To Black-Water tower.

First came the rattling,
Then came the thundering
Lumbering hoof-beats grew louder and louder.
Then did the marsh turn alive with a showering,
Splinters of arrows all poisoned and sour.

Bellowed and charged did we
Onward to victory.
Many did fall but were all men of valor.
     Righteous, and honored.Yes, all men of valor.

Death did not leave them fair,
Nor took them anywhere.
Save for the heavens, and memories of ours.
After we burned them, some somber few hours,
March did we eastward,
From Black-Water tower.

I would personally like to thank everyone that reads my work. It isn't that great, it's pretty sad, and has too much moon and ocean it; but you all read it anyway. Thanks to every last one of you, I love you all. Life will keep happening, I'll keep writing, the moon will keep pathing, the tides will keep rolling, and if I'm lucky, you will keep reading. See you next time!

P.S. Don't forget your helmet

My journey took me
Across the sea
In a merchant ship
Bearing exotic spices

I chose this vessel
Because it was the only one
That would cross the deep waters
Off the dull grey coast

My pilgrimage would be shortened
Almost an entire week
Simply by taking this route
And not pathing around

All of the present crew
Had sailed these waters before
But by the fourth day or so
I noticed many of them were uneasy

They moved strangely about the ship
Staying closer to the center
As if trying to avoid
Gazing out at the water

Curiosity getting the better of me
I walked up to the wooden railing
And peered over the edge
Into the deep waters

To my surpise it was crystal clear
And I could see straight through
The refracted sunlight
Dancing on the ocean floor

Then something caught my eye
Deep sunken blocks
Covered in algae
That must not have been natural

Sailing on I noticed these blocks
Forming walls and broken structures
Sitting solemn and untouched
Beneath the crystal waves

We passed a large trench
Amd after we did
I saw what must have been
An ancient city on the ocean bed

Great towers and minarets
Rose from the ocean floor
Even the streets and houses
Where visable from the surface

My attention turned to a courtyard
Or at least what I thought to be one
That sat directly in the center
Of that long sunken place

And in the center of that courtyard
Was a strange sort of obelisk
Upon further investigation
I saw something chained to it

Passing over the city
I could hardly make out the thing
That I saw chained to the pillar
But I thought to myself

That it must have been a person
Imprisoned there some millenia ago
What catastrophe they committed
Was anyone's guess

Nothing now remained of them
But algae encrusted bones
Their jaw broken and mangled
Inhabited by tentacled creatures

Straining to see the figure
Before we were beyond it
I though I saw the  skeleton move
Twisting its head in my direction

With a gaping twisted jaw
Did the old bones speak
Though I was not sure
If anyone else could hear it

I shook my head and rubbed my eyes
To get rid of the feeling
Left in me by its words
After I did I looked back in astonishment

The waters we sailed over
Were now murky and green
Nothing like the clear waters
I had seen only moments before

I asked one of the sailors
If we had steered off course
Or if the water changed
In this part of the sea

He promptly replied no
Saying we were right on course
And the water was always murky
In the Turn-Tide sea

ACQUISITION  APPOLEARNT ESTEM
RE: INDIGENEOUS –‘FATE ‘ GENOTYPE PATHING
Gimmorality  sovereignity  Siesta  behind the sawmill  emsoilage Zipporah’s  En –Root Stalk –of Peddigeance  vision  cortex:
The unpredictable magnificence vigor molten  cooingly-of
Proof  above the exigencies prior engrafting tools:
THE  KINGDOMMEZIA   META MORPHOSDEIKKAS:
Pipeline Oath digestion
‘Vaso-Versatile’
Consummate instance of wherein  paypriceless
‘ TALENT-TALE’ BEYOND THE TELEGRAM POLE
GENRE THE PROLETTE  OF PRO SELDOM ABOVE  CRITICS’
STOCK  RETENCENCE
ASYLUM VERTERAN
PILLAR PILGRIMAGE MANUAL
COTTON BRASS
BRACE GLIMPSES
BRUCE BEBYLON  THORNS
MID. WIFERY CONSIGNMENT/ FIDELITY FIDAL QUESTS
//the flashy art Seoul theatreez  OCTOPOSE PARACHUTES  Rainbowl Friettaos ET. Rivervese Strewelries-of rehabilitation engrossingly culmination visible dressing the illumination :
Stewardship Reorigine  Creaions
Stretching ‘Calf –Career’ Stereoscopic Seminaries
Pace-Setter: Bullock Yarning Beyond Prey mountain
BULKBOTH HERALDNG  RECESSION  CO-ENCROACHMENT
Spar under Oaths :
The Uncharttedly   bruce…’
ELLEANOR PODIUM PORTRAITS-
Above peddigres
Stir mediocre gothamcadre von pour care
‘KIOSK-KILO’ FULLERMINDNAC ICON VAULTS:
Kartryn Khulman Conference
Reliance  Conspiracies // the priceless  reoccurrence ORACLE  EXITHRAOST//

COUCH BEATITUDES
Order of amnesticuttez-Gymmordoc ghost ‘LIAISON
EMAIL: believingvirtue@gmail.com
+2348131914240
INTERIOR CAPE APEX//www.treasuredconcept.blogspot.com


THE BOOMINGLY BIKE  HAIL PLUMMATORY -OF THE  UNDER MOTH  IMMOLATION ....AUTO CRAFT

EMCRUISS // ENVELOP PING// INBORN  MIGHTY VENTURES


GHOSTWRITTEN  ISLE :

FLIVE LIOFEETS

Prejudices // Jaundice// Kroc nod // Guise forte prerequisites-of  KNOWLEDGEIZZ

Some new names?
Vic Tully... I just like being the Victor
Jackie Chun-Lee
Or Willie Full Nelson
Found out being an Einstein might just mean you steal credit from a wife like some Cabbage Patch Lovelaced Engine with Mephisteles fakin as a Marge.


RAFAHELLO SANRIO post transfiguration is all into petting the kitty la forniara style after many madonna obsessions

Might be more like Hugh LeoNardoh's da Veni Vici

Bounce back, going in on Sanity
Hanzi off, pinyin ate it, bopomofos
Keep Your Hamsa To Yourself
With the eyes; to seer
Gamer recognizes gamer
How 2 Score?
Dutch/indo tas=bag
Mr's noodle aint so Indo Mie
Wat is pp?
Existence gives you lemons...
Seren, the tea of calm starry skies
Sage, to offer clary tea
Humina vibechecks
No such thing as a diss track, ted
Practice makes progress,
Lesson the Learning
Super vision... more perspective
Core-act de-cyphering of "suffering"
Arch of Median Bell's Curve
Hel's Belle of Flora & Fauna
Midwinter nyt-mare dark horse
El Dorado Sendero del Cangrejo
Fuzzy logic companion anima
Just winging it; affectionately
Aves non Mari, ah!
SP Airs Rose/ SpArrows /Special ErRoRs
Naturally wild things: them beebeez
Aranha, spin, orumcheck for spiders
“axiluh” is the ancient Aztec word for “the lizard.”
zilla jira shera gojirah
Animalistically, it tracks
Making marks and beautiful impressions
Planting a Seedbead
Storyweaving directive?
New Branches of growth on the old Holle wood tree
Drawing a glow~☆
Fun gais chase lightning
Thundering mind for serenity
Cliques, thought bubbles & echolocation
Awareness, Alignment & Action
Cyclebreakers/ Conscious Cyclical Cultivation
Omnidirectional: Wound Up 4 Scrub Down
The weirding wayfinding
Sheer force of will; power
The Gift: Wrappings of Presence
Copacetic accompanyment
Finding the 'fit~
Know thyself, know thy enemy
Mount of Know thy Self-Mastery
Luch a dor / doormouse muscles / mouse
Son = er zi sun = earth
Sol-pathing, sparkily, shiny things
Sweet child of the golden sun horse
Full in-visible spectrum
The intercellular space race
Variable Universal Expansion Rate
Cosmology 4 Nube: Big Ring & Giant Story Arch
Dark Star Emergence
Matrix mothership '4ma
Ultrasonic wavecore/kincore
Every body is tiny baby men
Baby's First Betrayal
Sugar Plumb Fairy Tales
Irish cheist question
Kaikki Kysymys (time in the city)
Problem-addict to re:solution
Merdacotta
prior eye tease
The Joy Ploy
Super Finishing Move
Wholely en-Raptured
Farraday cage match
Fight? Oh, re:mediation
Unplugged but connected
Experimental Data Sets Intention
The Power (of) Play
A wise guise, eh? Yuk yuks
hai huoc humourous
Ode to the Psychopomp
Nuts roasting on a perscribed fire
The Advent of the Calendar System
After Midnight X-Mass Gonna Give it to ya
Ex Marks a Spot
Treasure Eyes Land
Silent Knight, Wholey Nyt
Myst-I-Call Magic
The Greench(akra) of Kalimakka
The Sanatan Clause
Stock? Hnng~ stuff'er!
Copy cat burglar of grand rising larsony
Haddaway to learn what is kin
Going Dutch 4 kin... who's they?
WE kami, we are, us~☆

Stank ***** III: Toot Fast, Toot Furious

WILDCARDS
Animalistic, Familiar
Her ball, cure~
Early Spring Cleaning
Deepthought

...with an alluring smile
a beautiful gaze of danger
That put me at home
with a familiar stranger

...with tired old feet
back from a dim pathing
That took my own pair to walk
without the fear of not knowing

...with present ears
assuring, as if they know
That I yearn to speak my heart
though not a word ever flows

...with a bold voice
words of calmness and strife
That conclude the question
'will this be an empty life?'

...with stiff trembling shoulders
sweating to take me all in
To a delicate world
where desire is not sin

...with succulent lips
that whisper like morning rain
I know they'll teach me love
for I know the pain

...with eyes closed
in a second of eternity
As I saw her
she saw me

Hast, yet, thee found on toilsome, trembling ground
a path thy moving feet may walk in earn’st
(whereinsofar thy nature circleth round
by brash and blindly pathing, here, thou durn’st)

would’st thence, by hearken unto chiming bell
of holiest incumbent owner’s place,
thine acrimony in thy bespoke hell
of handed, wrought creation be erased

Could’st, in transcending evanescent sight
to see the world erode in passing tides,
the soul bestowed but lost in darkest night,
there come again to sit where mind resides

When heart resounds in union with the eyes,
and salubrious joy might be restored,
there dissipate egoic source’s lies;
by life, may life again become adored

Subsist in thine existence, whose intake
should evermore sustain thy thirsting heart
Forever curiosity be slaked
by mindful making of the soulful art

the drops that do not fall
erode the skull; groove the brain.
poke holes in the eyes, ellicit migraines.
with no one to unlock these muscles
that squeeze you closed.

the dog-pile of stress,
like missles slowly breaching a dam of another well,
until breaking-point.
crackles of lightning cracking the scalp
and pathing, chaining twitches, down to the feet.

Grounded.
from then to the healing waters you must go. Nature's icy, cold, frigid, soothing,
teary shower cascading, dancing into the hair. Then, steamy hot droplets tingling the spine with prickling pleasure.

one can't sleep during this period of sickness, you can only attempt to survive. the pain's immensity contrived with human will. Paralled, entirely, in its labor.

Pain and relief, from nature's true kiss.
The one you can't have kept, but fleetingly.

finding words

like pulling teeth

can be unbearably painful

but sometimes

they are merely baby teeth

pathing the way

for something new

to grow