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Softly spoken Oct 2011
I got this great sensation.
With a broad imagination
And I love to think
Where other brains are weak
So educate me
Teach me that one plus one in ya bedroom
Means later on a wife and groom
That if I don't pull out and stay in
9months from now we got a baby coming
We all need education
No don't put me no class room I want hands on
I want to touch feel and embrace the sun
And yes I know its hot
But so was you and look what I got
I'm getting educated
Now that I know about the birds and the bees
I got a lil knowledge on astrolegy
Can we go on please
Without this thing called education the brain is dead
She brought me to life the first time I got in her bed
She educated me taught me things I never knew
Like you can have sharp pains in ya heart from what someone else might do
That you can be heart broken yea she taught that to me
She also demonstrated that one time she left me
Education
Although sad for her to go I'm glad she taught me about *******
Or else I would be in a world of shyt
Sexually fustrated holding all these nuts in
Man **** education half of the shyt we don't use
And knowing one plus one don't stop ya heart from getting bruised
I hate education of life I should of stayed in public schools
Instead of coming out to the real world and takin off my sschool shoes
I don't want to learn
That falling in love sometimes can burn
**** you education
I'm gonna make a collabaration of the two
The real world / school education and sell it to ya kids in school
So they won't be fooled
When someone comes and try to educate them
And still I have a great sensation with a broad imagination
I got my books pen and paper early preperation
For this shyt called education
T R Wingfield Feb 2017
I found a coven in the woods
Amongst an oaken forest glen.
There,
hidden behind a curtain of Spanish moss,
amongst fiddlehead ferns and fungi bloom,
two of Gaia's faithful maidens
Enchanted me unwittingly, and took possession of my gaze.

A Pair of Muses
One, of the forest
One, of the sea
Both wind and fire
Equally
In opposition and in sway

Their incantations softly chanted
In a tongue to me unknown
and I listened quietly entranced,
between them in the glow
Of their cauldron hearth fire
Embers burning low

She of the forest was enigma, playfully shy,
coyly toying with the strings all men share,
And in her den, among her herbs and powders and potions  
In preperation, and prepared.
She spoke in riddles and in parable,
Both with body and with stares.

Instantly she knew me
As I had never known;
As if Devined by a mysticism,
Ancient and pure,
So sublime it startles the soul.
In her eyes,
so sweet and sincere,
simplicity and innocence obscure
A strange and intoxicating knowledge
Of the rare and deepest old
Of the world and it's great secrets-
What its darkest reaches hold.

She of the sea
Was shimmering
A specter
Against the stars
Floating

She was Waves
Of aquamarine
Blue Green
Irridescent
Obscure and reticent
Behind her ever pulsing shade

Camaflouged by her surroundings
This piscian vision lingered in relief
Over a Gilded titan mother of pearl chariot;
The Persephone Throne.
She cast her stare upon me;
My hypnotized mind laid bare,
Wiped clean of anything I had seen.
No man could know her shrine of love
Nor the secrets that she keeps,
And none ever remember;
For one cannot resist her lair

An aquarian cavern,
A haven of calm,
Rest, respite and solitude.
It's lotus blossom lantern
Heart of glowing gold
Cast in shadow upon the ceiling
Glimmering radiant refractions
of the waning day

Her ocean sings soft and sweetly,
Casting mist into the air,
And a siren's song disrupts me
Ever suddenly
She washes over me,
Unaware

And though the seven signs they showed to me clearly
Still the stars I misread
through misted eyes,
and soon I fell to dreaming without sleeping
Or so I thought, though i shall never know

In their atmosphere I relinquished this mortal coil into the haze,
And disappeared completely
For an instant, just a moment,
perhaps it was hours.
Perhaps,
it was days.

And as abruptly as rushing water to the somnambulists face
I awoke,
As a dreamer awakes
from dreaming of waking,
alone and bleary-eyed,
dreary and confused
amid my own disheveled cave.
And where they've gone, I wish to go,
But where that is, I cannot know
For I would follow them until the days
Turned forever into nights amongst
The Forest and The Waves
(Added roughly 7 years after writing this) An impression of the first time I met my lover through a friend and rereading it still takes me Back to that night and that first moment when I saw her clearly, ****** and silent watching her unfold to her friend in a conversation I couldn’t follow because they didn’t use any names or really finish any sentences. The two sat and stared at each others eyes and talked as if I wasn’t even there; and it struck me so very deeply. And I have a photo somewhere of the two of them laughing after one spilled a box of paper cones. Their names were Kristen (the waves) and Billie (the Forrest). And I love them both.
ADORN LIFE WITH TWO PRECIOUS JEWELS , READ AND TRAVEL !
FOR READING GIVES WISDOM TO THINK
WISDOM TEACHES ONE TO TRAVEL,
DEEP WITHIN .
SOLACING IN THE BEAUTY OF SELF-GROWTH , THROUGH A ROAD OF SELF REALISATION .
NO SHORTCUTS , NO PREPERATION .

TRAVELING FROM THE UNREAL TO REAL , STRIVING THROUGH THE UNPREDICTABLE !

READING BETWEEN LIFE'S CHAPTERS AND LEARNING LESSONS FROM THE TRAVELS ,
TRAVELING THROUGH THE RIGHT PATH EACH LEADING THROUGH THE HEART .
TURNING THE JOURNEY OF LIFE INTO A  BEAUTIFUL CHART .

A WANDERLUST TRAVEL FOR THE ULTIMATE GOAL ,
TRANSFORMING THE SELF INTO A ENLIGHTENED SOUL !
©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Self growth #enlightened #read #travel #wanderlust #jewels ..
2019.02.26
Zac Walter Jan 2018
Procession of Recession
Regression of Profession
Art Erudition, An Elicition
Of all projection upon electation
Ethereal nation, Art re-reprensatation
Cubism in formation
Van Gogh in  elation
Picasso in sensation
I go in formation
A lasso in preperation
For all thats been hold
In permanent erasion
An erosion of obession
Lesson in raising whats been
Held in decision
But whats next
is held in preperation
whats next is held in preperation
An alteration of sensation
Elastic time reprimatation.
Self improvement isn't always
Easy but nothing ever is
When it's worth equals your birth
And no longer do I feel cursed

Cause control with moderation
Accountability and resiliency
Needs alignment so my assignment
Is to create a formula like science

That leaves me less defiant
And use my rolodex of excuses  
Cause that laziness is useless
Or maybe I'm just to stupid

But you don't have to be smart
To learn from a mistake
That I inadvertently force on myself
Mimicking the traits of ****

Without the date so I try to escape
To make my life better
Cuz I believe it's never too late
Wait....they say never say never

Which is more convoluted than clever
So whatever, I just wanna be better
So I leave this motivational letter
to remind most hardship endeavored

Are created by me so whether
I call it bad luck deep down I know
lobotomy of proper ideology leaves my life like our Economy, and its told

Philosophy states success is made when preperation meets opportunity
And it's been hard prepping for what can feel like a dead end but... No

Cause faith isn't just for religion
You must calculate your vision
Cuz any goal met must first be set like premonition the first Provision

Of many on a desired mission
no longer will my present position discourage me cause courage.Be my currency even if currently conditions

Leave me impositioned by decisions
Of the past that finally crash
When it chases me to grasp
The changes I've made but that

Is the bad karma I rightfully have
Wooven like its tapestry that flows
So without a needle&thread; or learning to knit i still knew how2sew

forced to reep it and keep it asan
Expensive lesson given
Ramification and consequence
Once written will later find u wishin

That the epiphany now hittin me
Didn't need so much time to see
But the sams transgressions may
Also be a blessin, a present of me

Who is evolved from who I use to be
But still knowing its nor enough
So more consciously I move on as it cautions me to live lawfully tough

And although premature I grew up
This reflexion will be my incubator
better late than not seein the indicator to act as my Instigator

The initiative initiating creator
So if you judge me for early labour
That conceived the belief Received i only hope it relieves knowing these

Words are left to show your deceived
But if that's the cost I wagered
Then this poem now stands a receipt for dues paid and mayb one day later

I can be refunded or if nothing write it Off as a cost of business
Or even education bridging the gap
Of inflation since my occupation

Leaves me expendable so vacation
is taken at club prescription med
So metaphysically I fly to my own
Tropic island gettin out my own head

Where I dare swim in the despair
Of being overwhelmed by damage
left by dumb adolescence to manage
The mess it collects so i bandage

damage i caused Unnecessarily
Physical and mental damage
mislabeling Addiction as a habit like affliction warnings were in spanish

Walking around while I fly high
Not realizing I was being ravaged
So if i end average its stil better than
The full picnic basket short a sandwich

That I was, with a side order of
A chip on my shoulder
Which I learned to swallow with my
Pride which is y i got fat when older

Which is a built Im jacket as colder
It will definitely get til karmas done
Dishing out what outta be awfully
Close to described as ******

A relationship maintained constantly
And a futures what it's costin me
Basically karma holds the **** u emit
Like it was a bag of your colostomy

Only it gets tossed back onto me
Which sparked nostalgia in my head
Hearing my mothers voice echo
Now making sense of why she said

I was **** for brains or **** head
Like my dad often used
Not as abuse but to give truth
Of what becomes of wasted youth
Haley Alexander Sep 2015
A baby was brought into this world
but not without
preperation

Not without
Questions

Will she be an athlete
Will she like the color pink
She will be a blonde I think

The parents read the books
bought the diapers
had the showers

All leading up to 6:56 a.m.
On September 28th 2001

That was the day I met my beautiful little sister
She is 14 today and here are the thigs Ive learned
She loves the feeling of the wind as she runs
and hates anything green
She loves the movies we see
the books we read
and the laughs we share

But I hope she knows that the thing I love the most
is
HER
Savagely I will eat you alive.
I will brace you for the moment you die.
I will escort you to the finish line
Atypnoc Jul 2015
Been dimming.

Swimming in the brimming I don't mean.

When ways of convenience and routine fall prey to entropy
communicative moralities convey what will convene
to birth an expectation.
from misinformed and ill-preperation
after crossing over seeking pastures green,
to find im swimming somewhere sneaking in between.
10/7/2012

Horizon flooded with watercolor,
No sunset quite like another.
Croaking of frogs all around,
Drowning out other sounds,
Air gone still in preperation,
Wildlife rest in expectation.
The heat of day begins to die,
As the sun leaves the sky.
Shadows expand to cover all,
Darkness enjoys the day's fall.
Stars glow upon heaven's floor,
Oh, how many, so many more!
The moon appears, full and bright,
Come to watch us in the night.
Its warm presence lights the rock,
Keeps me steady as I walk.
Coyotes howl from distant hills,
Thrilling, giving ancient chills.
Owls will begin to call out soon,
Making me want to join their tune.
Finally at my destination,
I prepare to enhance my fascination.
Invigorating scent of fresh cut hay,
Keeps me awake as I lay,
Staring up to unfathomable height,
Respecting all the power and might,
Realize just how small we are,
Even compared to a distant star.
Events come back into perspective,
We are truly, truly subjective.
For hours, laying on my back,
Watching satellites as they track.
Loving the peace the darkness brings,
Forgetting about all other things.
I look to heaven, begin to pray,
Then rolling off my bale of hay,
Retrace my steps through the fescue,
Thanking the night for the rescue.
Briannah Bright Dec 2018
What do I get for showing dedication?
         Nothing but pain and seperation
         My cries can be heard across the nation
         No one told me to practice preperation
         Im feeling down, A familiar sensation
         Im confused, Cant figure the equation
         *****,Disgusting, I need sanitation
         The Devil fooled me twice with tempation
         I need to be born again, Reincarnation
         But The Devil is very tricky with his persuasion
         He uses tactics, All kinds of manipulation
         But apart falls on me, and my hesitation
         I need to stand my ground, Defend my station
         Ask God for guidance, and Co-operation
                           For peace
         And to lead me to my destination
It was predicted ever so long ago
By one so few will ever understand
Born second of June back when
Never been wrong yet since sand

Many things he saw and wrote of
Many been and many yet to be
A soul with insight and of future
Since first birth of ocean and of sea

One thing he predicted being still
That 2018 year of earthquakes true
And this year is far from over yet
Preperation needed by all  through

We all living only on an earths crust
Way deeper below all hell is so alive
Time to think of all earthquakes course
If the human race is re this to survive

This planet thus unloved as it mostly is
And man playing god more so of late
With nature and karma working as one
Time man opened his mind re lifes last gate

terrence michaek sutton    
copyright  2018
CJ Sutherland Dec 2017
‘‘Twas the morning of thanksgiving
And all through the house
We’re the clanking of pots and pans
Heard even by the spouse

The dogs lay nestled  in their beds with care
Hoping the feast soon be there
the scent of,yams ,cranberries and casseroles filled the air
preperation covered the countertops everywhere

all of  sudden I heard a crash
I jumped from my Chair,
ran quick as a flash
potatoes boiled over, ready to mash

All the food hot and read
Any request my hands were steady
They all line up with cheer
Time to Eat was finally here

The serving spoons neatly in a row
Four hours of prep time
for a five minute eating crime
Sale ads in hand, it’s time to go

Standing in lines for the best Black Friday deals
Planning my attack of what l need to buy
In the blink of an eye,  I had all the enticing frills
If  I hurry another shopping line I can try

Exhausted from a long hard day cooking and shopping  
my legs burning, I feel like dropping
As I fell asleep my thought out of sight
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night
I wrote this on scraps of paper Thanksgiving day while I was cooking and while in line but I hadn’t got a chance to post it until now
Jerry Howarth Oct 2021
This is not a poem, this is a story of a an 83 yr old man, that
got away with lying aboat his actual age, so he could box,
for the light weight Dallas County Iowa, championship.

"Howath is the name and these are my two knock out fists, Gerald
and Ron, and I'm here to sign up for the light heavy weight championship boxing title of Dallas County."

That was my official registration to the County boxing Commisson.
They of course ask me my age and some other questions related to
my boxing experience, to which I lied very convincingly.

By the way, the way to lie convincinly is to literally believe yourself what you are lying about. I had spent hours telling myself the lies I told the Boxing Commission, so they had no doubt about what I told them about my boxing experience. I even had some fake newspaper articles about my boxing experiences that I printed on my home printing press. I'll tell more about this later in this story.

What motivated me o do this, was the current chjampion was the
Grandson of one of my high school class mates that I detested, because h was such a proud blow hard, about every athletical thing
he did, from being a baseball pitcher, a running back football player,
a wrestler and on and on he bragged about himself. One time when
I could not somach his bragging and pompous ay he walked, I confonted him to his face, actually his chin, as that was as close to
his face I stood. He was aout 6' 4'' and I was slightly over 6'. I looked him in the eyes and told him I and every one else in school was sick
and tired of his bragging about himself.

He then sneared a me, reached down and gabbed me by the coller of my shirt, and said. "Why you little dumb pimpsqueet, you aint nothing but a hog raising farm boy!" and shoved me hard against
the hall way wall, so I smacked the back of  my head against it, and
knocked out for a few minutes, long enough for someone dumping a cup full of water on my face to bring me alert. Then ol blow hard
spread it around that I had attemped to hit him and he "just naturally" defended himself and gave me a little shove.

But back to the main part of this story, I had been working out in the city gym, workig on my cardio, thats my breathing. I had been keeping up with my physical condition all of my life, so for an 83 yr old man  I am in good physical shape. I have been punching the heavy bag on daily basis , and have had someone bouncing a heavy medicine ball on my stomach five minutes every day, so I have  those three muscle stand outs on my stomach, tht every body ooos and aaas about.

I also sparred with young boys around 20 and 30 years old, convincing them I was just 28, by my foot work and bobbing and weaving and left hand jabs. I still had a good head of hair, which I
had dyed a light black, which also convinced the boxing commission that I was 38, actually the year I was bornd, 1938

My boxing bout with the young grandson of this high school class mate that I detested, was suppoe to be just a warm up match for him, in preperation for a title fight. He was the Dallas County Light Heavy Weight champion defending his title against some unbeaten
opponant. My goal was to knock him out, and disqualify his title fight.

Oh yes, I neglected to mention my boxing manager, who was a young 62 year old retired boxer. He didn't grow up in
Dallas County, Iowa,  so he had no idea of my bckground age. He came from New York or New something.  I had him convinced that I was just 38 yrs old also. I grew up in a small town called Clive about 60 miles from Des Moines, were the fight was scheduld. Clive was a town with a population of around 2500 when I lived there. Most of the people who knew me are living under ground,
or in a old folks home, so the secret of my age will not be revealed.
,
This grandson of the school mate I detested, is just like his Dad, a smart mouth, bragging, pompous, cocky strutton show boat. He has no idea who I am, but has already started boasting about what he is going to do t me.

"Hey, I'm only 27 yrs old and this old man I'm fighting is 38 yrs old. Somebody will have to help him through the ropes to get in the ring." "What's an old man like him still thinks he is a boxer?

"He ought to be sitting on his back porch, watching the rabbits and squirrels hop around."

"He claims  to be 38 yrs old, I'll knock him out in 38 seconds in round 3."
   ,
He came to the gym when I was working out one morning to scout me out; I put on an act of being slow and winded.

He yelled at me from a few feet away, "Hey old man, my kid sister
has a faster jab then you. You sure you want to fight me?"

My manager walked up to him, and gave him a double arm shove
out the door, so hard he stumbled. "You big mouth punk, crawl
back in the skunk hole you came from."

                           The Big Fight

I was in the ring first, and was warming up wih litle dance steps I had had learned in a dance studio, which I intended to use on him, BTW  his name was Virgil Thornley, but he took pride in calling himself, "V T"=Very Tuff.

He was taking his time coming to get nto the ring,  and when he did decide to enter, he did so with a bunch of short skirted cheer leading girls dancing to loud music being played. When he approched the ring, two of the girls, squatted down on one knee and VT than made a big show of standing on each of their leg, and pushed himself off, tumbling over the ropes onto the ring apron.
amid 40,000 loud cheering fans.

"Enjoy it while you can VT, becaus in about 15 minutes, five three minute rounds, yu're gonna have 40,000 stunned fans looking at you, sprawled half way under the ring ropes, watchng the referee
waving the fight over."
                                ROUND ONE
JT came quickly to the center of the ring with a stupid looking
grin on is face, hands down, swinging back and forth at his waist level.

I took a couple steps towad him, then through him a big surprize,
that stopped him in his tracks. I did a little two step tap dance, and in the few seconds it took him to recover from surprize, I took a quick step toward him and shot out a left jab, purposly hitting
his right eye. Over my years of boxing experience, I developed a
fast twist at the end of the jab. This little twist would tear the skin
producing a cut in the eyebrow, which it did to VT. I don't think he had ever bee cut before by the way he wiped his eye, leaving his face unprotected, of which I took advantage, and smacked him with
another quick jab on his nose, drawing another spurt of blood.

VT wasn't expexcting such an early barrage of attack, and strted back peddling. Once again, I put on my little tap dance,
to a 40,00 applauding, whistling crowd of men, women and teen agers. By now ol VT had no idea what to do with me. He took a quick look over at his corner for help. And when he did I took a big step foward and planed to quick left jabs on each of his eyes.

I heard the fight annoncer telling the radio listners, he had never seen such a show boating boxer like  Howarth is putting
on. He has VT totally confused, not knowing what to do with
him. He came in to this fight as a warm up for his upcoming defensive championship fight with Scrapiron Peel and he is being bloodied and cut up, by what in the boxing sport is considered old, a man close to his 40's but is moving like a 25 or 26 year old. Folks I don't recall Howarth in any past fights, but uh, hang on a moment Howarth is moving around VT, bobbing, weaving and talking to him, I can't quite read his lips, but someting about going down in uh, some round. Meanwhile VT continues to back peddle away from Howath, who is trying to cut him off....Oh! now Howarth stops chasing him and motioned with his hands to come in and fight. There's the bell ending this third round.

There is some kind of commotion going on behind me.... some one wants to tell me something, but is being detained by the police.
Hey officers, let him talk to me. Folks, this is the crasiest night I have ever experienced, let's see what this old man, I'm serious about Old, He mst be  "Uh how old are you, sir?"

"I'm just a couple years younger than Howarth. We  grew up together in Perry, Iowa. I'm 81 years old and that old man in the ring, he was known as "Howie" is 83 years old and...."

"Hold on just jack rabbit minute! Are you telling me, that Howarth,
  what did you call him? Howie, that boxer in the ring,  beating VT, the current light weight Dallas County champion, is 83 years old? Is that what you are saying?"

"Yep, dats whot Im sayng.We growed up t'gether, in da same school t'gether, wrestled and boxed t'gether, and I'm 81 years old and he was alays 2 yars older'n me, so I knows he is 83 yars old.

Folks., getting back to the igh, VT is circuling to his right to get in position to throw is left hook and then is righ overhand knock ut puncht . I think Howie is aware of what VT is trying and keeps circing to his left.


This is the  the round Howarth bragged he would KO VT. VT is coming out in his usual swagering way, Howarth had him intimiated in the first four rounds, with his little dancing jig and blooding his nose and eye. VT wasn't use to that kind of pressure, but his corner manager and some others that joined him, gave him a little pep talk, and so he has regained his cofidence. As usual Howarth, trys his little tap dance aa he approaches VT, it's gotten a little much and no one is cheering it.

I failed to ask you, old man, your name"

"I was known as Scrapieon in Perry, my real ame isRichard Peel.
Yo said dis is da round Howie is going to lower da boom on this young feller?"

"Well that's what he told the fight reporters in the news paper. But frankly, I have doubts that he can do it. Thus far all I've seen from your friend is  a few left jabs. He hasn't used his right in the entire fight."

"Well you just keep your eyes on his right; what yor going to see is a flurry of left jabs, ad out of nowhere his right and will suddenly show up and that will be the end of the fight."

Well folks there is just three minites left i thos round, if Howie is going to KO VT, he is ging tp alf to get more agressie than, oh,Howie just connected with a double left jab, and another one and he had VT weak leggedfromma barrage of jabs. He looks like he is about to go down OH WOW Howie hit him with a straight right hand punch right between his eyes and VT is on the canvas, tryng too ge up, the count is up to 5, 6,7 VT was up at the cnt of 8 bt collapst. The referee is waving the figt over, and tne Dallas County  light heavy weight champion has been kocked out by Howie Howarth in the 5th round just as he predicted.
ROUND oxing epeiec

— The End —