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Erika Soerensen Oct 2015
I watched a
Documentary about
Richard Pryor
Last night.

Did you know....

He was born in a brothel,
His mother was a
*******, and his
Father a one-time
Customer?

The closest Pryor ever got
To his Father was
When his Daddy
Unknowingly paid to
Create his son's life -
Inside a *****.

(and daddy never once enjoyed
his investment).

But, the ******* son
Became the
Clown, and
That clown transformed
All his pain
And sorrow into
Golden coins of
Laughter.

Imagine if we could all be so brave.
- erika anne
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Clarifying failed. Spelchek is not on strike.

{clear ification, an ionic bond be tween me and thee,
alienated mind, not mined, crafted
from tactics and strategies
beyond chess.
Player One,
1980's era
jewish-geek-mid-pubesence-kid-level,
proceed with caution.
This trope has trapped many a curious child.
---
Now, enter the old ones,
Grandfather taught uncle chess so well
he went to the state tournament in Kayenta,
and a grandma was
state-champ-bare-bow-in-the-rain-shooter,

these, now must learn

minecraft on x-box to be considered
for the real life role of

good at games grand parents
from the time right after atom bombs kicked up dust
places dust had not been in a very long time and
as the dust began to settle

some dust mights was cationic.
Negative bits, they became embedded in the code.
Bumps, fering, coming together
just a knot in a string,
attracting anionic curiosity might

round and round phorward ferring to be
a thread to tie my heart to yours

like twisted Pima cotton thread,
that I pulled from an old sweatshirt
to tie a crow feather in this paho of words filled with old jokes

Making this clear would belie the entire story AI and I know true}

truth is. we agree. no capsokehspaceasneededcommasetal.
caps okeh space as needed commas et al
go.
Did that work? That line

subject of this act fact done, agree to follow,
and I may lead and be

not you, me, dear reader, I mean first true

there is no any if nothing is. So simple some say its sublime beyond the spectrum of ones
and zeros thought on off probably

either or any time time can be accounted for

wouldn't you take a

thought,  nothing,
as it is commonly said to be understandable,

the state of not being, imagine that

the state of not being we negate in being,
unless you are mad and are lost in a whirlwind
such as such voices have been said to

have twisted into threads as
wicks for our lamps
turn floating on
golden oil twisting
wickered into wickering wee shadow fibers
on the western wall for legends to sprout from.

Wickering mare over there, expands us both by my hearing her
you had no idea she was near enough to hear
time is no barrier in actual ever.
What phor can contain me,
whispered my whimsy

Imagine she spoke,
what would she say for what reason
would she say

good good good, I feel good, ha,
I am right, by accident. ever body can feel this good.

good is good.
good is.
Sam Harris, agrees, good as far as good goes, is good
in every vecter from now

the terrain does exist, beyond the moral landscape, to

true true
trust me, I been there.
Been there done that was inserted into the vernacular on my watch,
first summer post war.

matter must not matter as much to me as it does to thee, nestypass? no se?

All jewish boys have chess move metaphors.
(a phor is for containing,
bearing
meta,
everybody knows, like metaphysics,
after physics in the stack of stackable metadata)

OHMYGOD THE IDW circa 2018 -- who knew I ate this **** up?

[the old code calls for excretion of digested material
from which meaning has been extracted in the idleword accounting processor:
literal
<pre>what if utterance=****, then **** haps, no else then</pre>]

Did that happen? One of my friends told me that happened in Florida, the whole world turned to ****... for lack of a nail a kingdom was lost, they say, little foxes spoil the grapes,
hung chad ex
cuses...

Pre-expandable ROM, not magic. tech,

pre-infinite imagination? impossible.
and nothing is what is impossible with good as god.

Is there no perfect game?
is the game the session or the life of the user
offline

rerererererererererereroxotoxin, poison pen
ideal viral umph exspelliered
up against the wall

reset. We

kunoon albania omerta oy vey, who could say?
one way better, one way not? quark.
up or down, with variable spins, who can say?

Life's right,
yes. but mo'ons of other something must have been for higgs to ever matter

and it does, I got commas, from 2018.

Are you with me? This is that book I told you I had access…

You or some mind other than mine owned mind, where
my owned peace rests in truth,

otherwise, I know every any or else in the code since I can recall,
in time

if this were a test I swore to take to prove to you
the we can be me in your head

phillipkdicktated clue

if you don't know me by now, maybe we should stop.

Temptations are times. Time things. Time spans, yeah, like bridges

or portals, right
The Internet in One Day, Fred Pryor Resources,
Wu'wuchim 1995.

Ever, not everish or everistic or every, but ever
body knows,
but you.

Catch up. We left all our doors blown off, once we learned that we could blow our own doors off,

there are no open sesames or slips of leth or sibylets

shiba yah you knew all along there was a
song she sang all one and we watched it morph
before our very eyes

alone.

The magic stories words may contain, may bear, we must agree

more than we may know, by faith, metagnostic as we see

the sublime gift of the magi
become clear und

be und sein sind both trueture same tu you, we agree.
But. Lock here, no pre 2018 editing codes

validate past last go.
Do one good thing today. That was my goal. Today https://anchor.fm/ken-pepiton Part 3 Soyal Hopi Mystery Enactment (called mystery plays). And the intro to Moral Landscape by Sam Harris, led me let ******* write a poem.
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
Winnie the Pooh is trying to think
As are Plato and Socrates
While The Little Rascals get rambunctious
And The Marx Brothers cause calamities
Jim Jones stirs the Kool-Aid
And Georgie Porgie makes his move
Bo Peep and Miss Muffett start to blush
Red Ridding hood just swoons
The Muffin Man does a deal
With Johnny Apple seed
These beings and people our real
In our Surreal Reality

******* lets the paint splatter
And Moses parts the sea
Belushi buys an eight-ball
Bruce is on trial for obscenity
Rorschach is on the case
Right behind Sherlock Holmes
John the baptist goes for a swim
Along with Brian Jones
Jack and Jill meet Hansel and Gretel
They're hungry, they're thirsty
These figments of imagination do exist
In our Surreal Reality

Rasputin was so evil
As bad as Captain Hook
Now was it ** Chi Minh or Nixon
Who said "I am not a crook?"
Mao Zedong looked at Stalin
With a shared murderous grin
Booth stormed the Ford theater
And shot President Lincoln
Kennedy and King we're both casualties
Of the process of the deciphering
Of our Surreal  Reality

Zeus said to Aphrodite
"Wow, you look real good tonight"
And Handel says "Hallelujah!"
As the Wright Brothers take flight
Baby Face Nelson
Teams up with Dillinger
Moe, Larry and Curly
Mengele, Mussolini and Adolf ******
Three bears, three little pigs
Along with three blind mice
Sit together, while Maurice Sendack
Cooks them chicken soup with rice
Charlie Bucket had a buy out
Wonka gave up his factory
Fiction or nonfiction it's all a apart
Of our Surreal Reality

Chicken Little tried his best
To warm The Little Red Hen
Of the sly trickster
They call Rumpelstiltskin
Rimbaud applauds Leonidas
And his 300's final stand
Da vinci  paved the way
For both Newton and Edison
Folklore and war heroes
And those with intellectual mentality
Are all just pieces
Of our Surreal Reality

Wee Willie Winkie's scream
Wakes up Rip Van Winkle
But not Sleeping Beauty who's been asleep for thirty years
But has no acquired a single wrinkle
Caligula has lost his mind
And Nero's lost his fiddle
What does Beethoven's hearing aid
Have to do the March Hare's riddle?
Abbie Hoffman fights for civil rights
Thomas Jefferson for democracy
Products of the conceptual
In our Surreal Reality

Berryman writes an ode
To Washington's wooden teeth
Manson speaks of Helter Skelter
Neruda damns the fruit company
Charles Schultz frames the story
And Seuss gives it rhyme
Some where far, far away
Taking place once upon a time
And the villagers all had omelettes
Thanks to clumsy Humpty Dumpty
It's all food for thought
In our Surreal Reality

Santa brings us presents
And Cupid bring us love
But we can never get back
The members of the 27 Club
Warhol makes his movies
And Buddha meditates
Joseph Smith reads the golden plates
Mohammed and Jesus save
Theses figures bring people hope
In life's dualities
Trusting faith
And our Surreal Reality


Han Solo is in carbon freeze
Don Juan's preoccupied
Sinbad sets his sails
Simple Simon didn't get his pie
Caesar looked at Brutus
Brutus looked at Saddam Hussein
Hussein looked at L. Ron Hubbard
Who prayed to Eloheim  
Dionysus can out drink us all
We cringe at Achilles fatality  
As Ra soars through the skies
Of our Surreal Reality

Aristotle says to Shakespeare
"Well Billy you old bard"
Frodo trades the ring of power
To Fidel Castro for a Babe Ruth Baseball card
Biggie and Tupac write their lyrics on paper
Ted Bundy is put in jail
They're making another skyscraper
For King Kong to scale
Hemingway is too far gone
Kant's take on morality
Einstein says it's all relative
In our Surreal Reality

Churchill said victory
John Lennon said peace
Judas gave back the silver
Then hung himself in a tree
Tojo and Kim Jong-il
Wanna be as cool as Brando and Dean
George Carlin warned us all
Now Hermes leaves the scene
So do the butcher, the baker and the candle stick maker
Followed by Old King Cole and his Fiddlers Three
As they make their way to find
A sense or Surreal Reality

Odysseus pines for Ithaca
Paul Bunyan chops the trees
The Jersey Devil has not been found
Noah herds the animals by twos not threes
Anubis wraps the mummies
And Augustus leads Rome
Bugs Bunny laughs with Pryor
All at the expense of Job
So what can we all make of this
Is this all actuality?
Symbolism or nonsense?
Realistic Surrealism or Surreal Realty?
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2016
i.

my writing is truly one thing, my life another - not
that's a statement clouded in excuses and guilt:
just the claustrophobic macabre -
and so it happens, that every few days i reach
the limit with wrestling the Minotaur -
the time comes when the liver k.o.s the brain
and the brain then starts punching the liver -
it usually stars in the afternoon, e.g. yesterday,
at 3 in the afternoon, a burrowed sense of guilt
comes over, cigarettes are rolled and chain-smoked...
a promise of not painting the front of
the house is the overpowering weight on the heart -
as is an ably bodied father: who, i might
as the source of my writing capacity: the silence -
but the day flows through... the excess nicotine
adds to the shakes, the detox period begins
with a big meal: chinese pork belly in five spice
and other additives, peppers, spring onions
until a thick goo sauce is cooked slowly to thicken...
served with 'it's called egg fly lice, you plick!'
(Uncle Benny, lethal weapon 4) -
the meal is ate as if a ****** ****** - this is
really the point of critically approaching the
concentrated detox - binge of television,
drinking orange squash and smoking -
playing some stupid video game between watching
an even worse movie - before the saga of
x files begins... at 5 a.m. with the most annoying
feline opera by the most annoying ginger cat
begins... the shades are drawn and the hours between
5 a.m. are spent in a quasi somatic state -
the pain in the brain is too strong to allow you
a kipper without the sedative being dragged from
the body: taking sleeping is avoided -
the blinds in the room don't have blackout plastic,
by 6 a.m. a t-shirt is rolled up and put against
the eyes, the eyes adjust to the light until 7 a.m.,
the body gets up and goes downstairs for more
orange squash, but this time breakfast is stomached,
yesterday's leftover rice, fresh eggs scrambled
and mixed with spring onion -
                                                     cigarette, and a daytime
news channel - Victoria Derbyshire -
the main topic of concerns? only 12% of Paraolympic
Rio tickets have been sold, a charity having raised
about £25,000 wants to sponsor Rio's children
to join in the fun... housing shortages in England,
Redbridge council buying social housing in
Canterbury (once a military base) - 7 people living
in one room (the Romanian standard is
14... you have to remember night shifts) -
oh i seen houses like that, i remember one Jew renting
out his house to 20 / 30 Poles before the Union
expanded... paid of his mortgage... no new reality
here for me... the major misdiagnosis of heart attacks
in women on the N.H.S.: a woman ate a curry,
thought it was only a heartburn... boom, two days
later drops in agony... in between the real
results of the detox... sitting...
not ******* out whiskey yellow ***** when there
are barely any toxins in the body... diarrhoea...
up to about 8 times on the toilet - more orange squash,
more cigarettes... then onto the piece the resistance...
the x files... which last up to about the twilight zone
hour of having reached the 24 hour mark of being
awake... one last **** and then shower, and
then doing the laundry (on a sunny day like this,
it would be a shame not to)...
                                                   at noon
tinned mackerel in sunflower oil... brown bread,
all the oil drank... but by the twilight zone hour
a realisation: ****! my headphones are broken!
i've been walking around these streets with those
very depressing sounds of vrroom vrroom...
i know how the old complain about the youth
and their headphones... yes, but you probably
grew with about 10 cars per hour passing your
house back in the day... and too the birds could
be beautiful, and the sound of children's games
and golden laughter... but all the other sounds...
so off to the shop for a very respectable £1.50 pair...
and then the moment when all the sights
on the streets are no longer synchronised with
what i'm hearing, my eyes sharpen and i dance
past the cars and people never bothering to press
the crossing lights on streets: ease the traffic,
ease the traffic... then into the supermarket and
the detox ends... i can go back to sleeping a decent
night... a bottle of Stella... the only thing sexier
on a hot summer's day on the street... good old,
good cold Stella Artois...
then up to another shop for two more beers and
tobacco...
                        after that? magic...
as the title suggests: on a park bench with Ernie -
something more grand than Beckett's waiting
for Godot
... i.e. something resembling a scene from
Patriarch's Ponds, an encounter with
Mikhail Alexandrovich Berlioz (editor of a highbrow
literary magazine, abbreviated MASSOLIT)
and a young poet Ivan Nikolayich Poniryov -
a few clues to the less knowledgeable parties:
Behemoth ***** and chess, a book that makes
sense of the world interrupted by Herr Woland's
wonderful delights (among many), such
as the notable pandemonium at Ivan Savelyevich
Varenukha's Variety Theatre -
yes very much akin to Hector B.'s:
symphonie fantastique: dream of a witches' sabbath.

ii.

sincerest apologies... the sedative hasn't been bought
yet, and a patient father's invoice for work
done on the construction must be written in tangible
English - in ref. to the uttermost sincerity -
Polski nadal w mej duszy dudni,
                            taki ogrom organów i
                                         bębnów twki -
           że strach pomyślec - czy to wir zamkniętej
historii ludu: czy poczatek gorszych prwad o świecie?
   bo co o zamkniętej historii (skrawku) ludu?
      to przeciez moj dziad'ek w Partii uslugi dawal!
      a kraj podziekowal - i co Prawda to Walesa
   na Florydzie z lwa w zlota rybke sie zamienil.
   (comp. diacritic
                                                       ­                                 pending)

iii.

as i knew, i should have finished this poem on
the principle of ensō - all in one piece -
thus i would have staged what happened on the bench
with Ernest -
                        but after walking to the supermarket
minding my own business and the jokes ensued
about how no one notices, how they know my name
as it's their mascot -
                                   after walking into a world
i found chaos; indeed if i wrote the poem on principle
of ensō, i would have included the phantasmagorical
details of something so simple you could almost cry at it...
the simplicity of it, the fluidity of almost 2 hours
spent in conversation... about what? i'm not telling,
and how was it spoken? i'm not telling either -
let's just they laughed at Ernest's bike, because
it was proper oldie...
                                     i mean, i won't mention the odd
details, but the essence? forget it man!
after writing my father's invoice, and how cut money
on the construction site, blame it Romanians but only
have themselves to blame with their model
of profiteering and that ****** fetish they have
Che's socialism of guerrilla warfare...
                            and the comments in the supermarket,
it just stuck with me about Ernie's bike,
nothing in comparison to the Tour de France's racers
doing up to 50kmh...
                                      it just made me happy to make
a clean bed... and prevent 36 hours awake threshold
glitches of abstraction: black strings and random
square objects popping out of nothing with me in a
variation of nervous startles... Ernest's bike?
an antique, a 1950s Raleigh...
- hard leather seat beneath that modern overcoat?
- yes; no one would even take it if i left it
  outside a shop, they'd probably sell it for parts.
- well, unless someone is smart enough to notice
  a vintage, and tries to restore it,
  buy the vintage green paint and cover the rusty bits.
oh **** it, i can't keep my own company to suit
being happy by saying: ooh, doesn't know a joke,
the happiest he felt after walking out with a stone heart
was making a bed... but to be honest?
psst... i haven't made it in over a month... last night i
was getting cold-heat shivers in the idea of it being *****
enough though i shower everyday... ok, every other day
sometimes, my socks have holes in them, and my
shoes are ripped.
but there's more to this... the bicycle is a pun
of a Heidegger maxim: man is born as many men...
but dies as a single man... imagine how many
influences are entombed in us, the education reformers
to begin with, motherhood tips, cot deaths...
but we die as individual men... so when Ernest said
about the bicycle being only worth spare parts,
i said what Heidegger meant: but i'd take the whole thing
as one.
- how many gears?
- three at the back, one at the front; you see this thing?
- the long tube beneath the seat?
- yeah, when charged it would power up the front
   and back lights.
- oh, i'm used to seeing that thingy-madgit that you'd
   press against the front tire and the principle would be
   the same.
- a dynamo.
- yeah, a dynamo, forgot the name of it.
it started so innocently, i just sat on the bench with my
earphones and two beers and started rolling a cigarette.
- may i invade the bench?
                                               (earphones out of the ears)
- sure.
                and we just sat there, i asking if he minded me
smoking.
- i used to, loved it, esp. after dinner, gave it up 15 years ago.
  then conversations about dogs, family,
                                         and children's games,
          i said
- i'm finding it hard to find people of my generation with
even friendly dynamic of the body: eye contact is gone!
- it's all the fidgeting on those ****** tablets and phones,
when we were kids we used to play marbles,
conkers, hopscotch, so many...
- and we used to draw a racing maze, fill bottle caps
with plasticine and flick them through the maze
(i can't remember if we threw dice to see how many
moves we could make).
  by the time we started talking about the dogs we liked,
and compared them to the dog walkers passing us
   we already forgot who died today: it was Gene Wilder...
the world is mourning him, and we sat there
and the best i could come up with was Richard Pryor.
- dumb animal luck...
- you know how i managed to train my dog to run
  around the park, but come back to me? i used a whistle
  to get the dog to come back and i'd give it a treat.
  until it got the hang of it, i sometimes wouldn't give it
  a treat... other times i would, the point being was
  to teach it both obedience when nothing was given
  and double obedience when something was.
- ever heard of Pavlov? he basically did the same thing,
  but your experiment had coordinates, it was three-dimensional,
  Pavlov's was just two-dimensional, instead of a whistle
  he used a bell... just to stimulate two senses
  as coordinated, the sound of a bell created saliva
  in the dog's mouth, poor dog received treats
  but in the end Pavlov put him in a car with closed
  windows in the middle of summer outside
  of Parliament square; obviously the dog died.
- German shepherd though... i had a friend, naturally
  obedient.
- could walk a German shepherd through Manhattan
  without a leash.
- exactly, not even half a metre away, and when the
  master stops, the dog stops.
(i started thinking, what a great way to invert theology,
in this way from dogs to gods.)
well... i guess there was more, but if i write more
about it, when i'll reflect upon this chance meeting of
complete strangers as more insightful than it
already was...
                         he managed to climb back on his bike
with a slight problem after his hip-replacement
operation... at 74 such things break... and he rode off
and i sat there trying to think about what the hell
i was thinking after watching the x files to find
something insightful...
                                        well, i got one thing,
i mentioned it before... i could never have believed
that adults created the most nightmarish version
of hide (negate) & seek (doubt) -
                   i thought it was just as bad as
  truth & dare with religion - with that motto:
          the Koran: this is the truth, and the only truth...
so truth or dare? i dare you to deny it!
                    can i just doubt it? you know, not be
a definite unbeliever, but an indefinite quasi-believer?
well doubt in the stated quasi-believer is wavering,
isn't it? the two of the most beautiful games of
innocence, morphed into these gargantuan abominations.
Big Virge Jul 2014
I've Been TRULY SURPRISED ... !!!
In Fact ... " MESMERISED " ....... !!!!
  
By The ... Volume of People ...  
Who Tell Themselves Lies ... !!!
  
These Acts I Believe ...
Give Liars ... " Relief " ...  
  
But Liars Are FOOLS ...
Who Simply ... AREN'T Cool ... !!!
  
And People Like These ...  
Know NOT What They Do ... ?!?
  
In Fact That's NOT TRUE ... !!!!
  
But Does Give You Some Clues ...
On Why These FAKE People ...
Don't Have ... SHINY Shoes ... !!!  
  
They Walk In A Mire ...
of .... " Liars for Hire " ....  
  
They Claim The Good Life ...
But Are NOT Richard Briers ... ?!?
  
They DO ...  
Make Me Laugh ... !!!
  
But They AIN'T Richard Pryor ... !!!!  
  
Their ... " Devilish Ways " ...
Will Earn Them ... " HELLS' FIRE " ... !!!!
  
This Thing Has NO COLOUR ... !!!
  
A Liar's ... A LIAR ... !!!!!
  
But That ISN'T ME ... !!!
Try ... Tapping My Wire ... !!!
  
"IT ISN'T JUST WHITES !
YES BLACKS DO IT TOO !"
  
To Think It's One Culture ...
Is Really .... " NOT COOL " .... !!!
  
DON'T BE  ... " A Fool " ... !!!
  
You're Lying To ... YOU ... !?!
  
To Think That ... " Your Creed " ..
Has Always Been ... " True " ...
  
It's Time To Move On ...
And Give You Some Proof ...  
That ... Loved Ones You Have ...
May Just ... TAINT Your View ... !!!
  
Those Who You Feel ...  
Would NOT ... Lie To You ...  
  
Does Your Family ... ?
Have A ... GENUINE Crew ... ?!?
  
Or Do You Have Relatives ... ?
Being .... UNTRUE ... ?!? ...
  
Who ... Travel Through Time ...
WITHOUT ... " Doctor Who " ... !!!
  
Their Ship Is UNStabLE ...  
Their Life Is .... " A Fable " ....
Kind of Like Guys ...
Who Sell ... " DODGY CABLE " ... !!!
  
Yeah ... Funny I Know ...
But ... Who's At YOUR Table ... ?!?
  
ROCKING ... Your Cradle ... !?!
  
I'll ... Give You A Choice ....
These Two ... Cain or Abel ... ???
  
Marriage Is Something ...
To Give You ... MORE Clues ...  
  
That ... LOVE Is A Word ...  
That ... GOOD LIARS Use ... !!!!!
  
DON'T ... Get It Confused ...  
This ... LOVE Thing's ABUSED ...  
By Liars Who ... USE It ...
To Get Some ... NEW Shoes ... !!!
  
It's Money ... You See ...
That Gives Liars GLEE ... !!!
  
Emotions Get Played With ...
Right To ... " Pregnancy " ... !!!  
  
LOVE Is A ... GREAT THING ... !!!!
  
When Given For FREE ... !!!!!
  
But MANY Now USE IT ...
To ... Fulfil Their Greed ...  
  
Just Look At Divorce Rates ...
Or ... Watch Your TV ...
  
I Really ... DON'T Care ...
If You ... Don't Want To See ... !!!!!
  
THE TRUTH Is This Simple ...  
  
It's .... REALITY .... !!!!!
  
We All May ... Fall Victim ...  
of Those Who Proceed ...
To ..."Hide Who They Are" ...
Behind LIES ... That They Feed ...
  
They're ... LYING To You ...
And ... LYING To Me ... !!!
  
Some of These People ...
.... Recite Poetry .... !!!
  
Some of These People ...
Are Rappers ... BELIEVE ... !!!
  
They Really Don't Know ... ?
What It Is To ... " Emcee " ... ?
  
This Is A MASTER ...
of .... " Ceremonies " ....  
  
These Are TRUE POETS ...
Like ..... " Talib Kweli " .....  
  
or Maybe THIS NAME ... ?
  
The Brother ... " Big V " ... ?!?
Or A Guy Called ... BIG VIRGE ... !?!
  
Okay I Mean .... ME .... !!!!!
  
A Man Who Speaks TRUTH ...
In This Here .... " Poetry " ....  
  
I DON'T Want To Be ...
Above ... Humility ... !!!!!!
  
I Just Want To See ...
More ... TRUE Poetry ...  
  
That SHUNS Foolish Pride ...  
And Liars Who Feed ...
On ... " Poetic Liars " ...
  
These ... " Fictional Writers " ...
Just Write For THEMSELVES ...  
To Earn A .... " FAST BUCK " ....  
From .... " Media Wealth " ....
  
PLEASE OPEN Your Eyes ...  
  
Let TRUTH Be Your Guide ...
Cos' It Really AIN'T Wise ...  
To Have A ... FAKE Guise ... !!!!!  
  
REMEMBER This Poem ....
  
... " Don't Tell Yourself Lies !!! " ...
The path to denial is lying to oneself, it's not good for yours, or, society's health ....
Rob Sandman Mar 2016
Take a step into the Firestorm.
Lyrics/Vocals Skitz AKA Mr.Sandman
Track,recording,production-Jay/Eclectic.Collective.
Lyrics.(Copyright Skitz AKA Mr Sandman)

Spittin' fire-desolation of the Sandman,
blink you'll miss the decimation of your clan man,
musical massacre with an Irish style,
time to stop driveling,your old cold style-

cause I'm riled up,fed up sick of your ****,
sit down or be knocked down,listen to the skitz spit,
flammable fumes,verbs turn to flame,
grammar fallin like a grand piano from a crane,
straight to your brain a flash of white light,
wear a fireproof suit you might catch light,
pay stage crews danger cash cause I'm scorchin',
E.C.-Schizophrenic-Sandman torchin,
a four alarm fire,I cause high premiums,
show respect or you'll be rappin through a medium,
mic's a flamethrower leave you screamin,
think you'll burn the Sandman?,wake up,you're dreamin.

Venue's on my menu,get it insured,
I walk through the flames,immune and immured,
immersed in hip hop, a sun gone nova,
drop the mic kid, just run,it's over.
my tank's full,petrol for adrenaline,
flame and blood like my name's Targaryen
you don't want to see my dragon's fly loose,
spit heat like a turnspit-cook your goose,

Stage is flaming,boy you best ghost,
hit the fire bell,you get burnt to toast,
white phosphorus combined in my mind,
get your goggles if you're goggling,you'll wind up blind,
Armageddon approaches,best make your way,
last stage I blazed you may have heard of-Pompeii,
you're gettin calcinated muy calor!,
a Supervolcano eruptin' on a dancefloor.

(chorus)
Magma,Plasma,they're not even warm,
Air Ripped from Lungs becomes fuel for the Storm,
Melt Icecaps,Globe start to warm,
****** Aircon-I spark a Firestorm.

Time to raise the heat,time to raise the stakes,
you're a lost smokejumper,praying for a firebreak,
trees turn to shrapnel,you're out of breath,
"I am fire,I am Death"

Reverse Mic Fiend rhymes steal the oxygen,
lungs collapse as I spin the storm again,
a terrible beauty,and an awesome blessing,
3rd degree burns,apply cool dressings
thats if you're lucky when I spit the gift,
last MC challenged me burnt to a crisp,
by words,deeds,heat bleeds stage smokin-I'm just gettin warm
thoughts spark the flames in a forest I'm a firestorm
fuel air bomb combined with Tsar Bomba,
Mount Doom blowing about to get Sundered,
hate is stokin' me,fuel to the forge,
16kept the heat banked long enough it's time to gorge,
Smaug heats up-flames spew forth,
you're guy fawkes on a pyre of fireworks.

Wondering,and blundering it's time to burn,
time to get roasted,you fool's won't learn,
that I'm hotter than a sunflare,beyond compare,
you're richard pryor tryin to smoke michael jacksons hair
don't dare me to flare into action,
don't care Keisha fusion core reaction,
fukushima and cherbobyl are my barbeques,
couldn't help yourself, you had to light my fuse,
I refuse to cool down-I'm scorchin',
Firestormtrooper lit,time for torchin'
Firewalk-comparison? Huh,a cool breeze,
flatten the building like Tunguska's tree's,
eyes hotter than Cyclops,you're weak at the knees.
supernova 200 billion degree's

(chorus)
Magma,Plasma,they're not even warm,
Air Ripped from Lungs becomes fuel for the Storm,
Melt Icecaps,Globe start to warm,
****** Aircon-I spark a Firestorm.
To hear this Poem as a Song with my band Eclectic Collective Eire(or just E.C.) go here
https://soundcloud.com/eclectic-collective-eire/firestorm
JJ Hutton Jul 2012
To a cat in a cul-de-sac,
she's a stone rose,
malaise with no remorse and a penchant for suicidal grammar.

Backsassing and backroom massaging
her way from Tanner, Illinois to Irving, Texas --
her interstate veins and her data plan brain
catered to the orifices of the weary,
and soothed the spidertongued and sleepy.
In the last postcard, she signed Evangeline,
the number of name changes: 23
in the Sunflower State alone.

A dive bar in Ulysses, Kansas
beamed as a brilliant model of
"Starved wives and stray dogs," Evangeline explained.
"I found the dark side of beet farmers
and the redemption in callused hands."


A letter came from Pryor, Oklahoma:

"Recognize the perfume?"

The only line.
Printer paper close, inhale --
my mind drifts to my former
high cheekbone'd bride, Skye.
Evangeline bedded her spindly body.
Spite, spite, spite.

Confused, I answered her call on the
first morning of December.
Tent living with a retired acrobat on
the growing shoreline of Lake Texoma,
she downed a mixed bag of his sleeping meds,
and sleeping by his side, she fantasized about me.

"I think you drank too much in my dreams.
I woke up dissatisfied."


Once she arrived in Irving, I mailed her
my edit of her suicide note.
A call to say it looked good,
and she'd let me know if she ever had
to use it.

I never heard from her again.
jeffrey conyers Jan 2013
I once thought Richard Pryor was funny.
Still do.
I doubt he has anything upon you.

I also thought George Carlin was too.
Then I heard you.

You make me laugh.
Just bring joy to my soul.
If laughter I the best medicine.
Then with you I'll never get ill.

Steve Martin.
Bill Cosby.
Sinbad.
And Steve Harvey might be hilarious.
Except, they hadn't met you.

You have a way to make anyone day brighter.

I love you.
I adore you.
For laughter.
For the loving.
we don’t need
to be fixed.

we need to be
aware. open. owning it.

embracing
our pain, our history
our patterns, our spasms.

confession:
I've been fantasizing…

that one day you'd roll up,
like Richard Pryor at the end of Moving,
sitting atop a semi-truck of your whatnots,
war paint smeared upon your dashing,
wearing a tie bandana and bullet sash,
carrying a semi-automatic weapon,
after stalking your **** cross-country,
to the front of our gutted dream house,
after this misadventure, arriving, finally,
at home imperfect, thankful just to be,
there with delirious, Cheshire cat grin,
like a lion dragging in a carcass,
bloodied, brave and proud,
eager to greet my eyes and say:

Honey! Look what I found!
I found my ****!
I brought my **** home...
This is my ****.


and I would greet you,
with water-colored greys
inking down my dimpled peach,
in a black and white gingham apron,
heels, nylons and corseted vintage dress,
mirroring that ****-eater right back,
tray of warm hash brownies in hand,
that got nothing on my toasty sweet
lips dripping to say:

Your **** is lovely, darling.
It'll go perfect with mine!
It's up in the attic - properly labeled,
arranged and categorized.


and with that kind of
ownership, acceptance and bravery,
there is no way our stuff will ever be
more powerful than us, together,
merged and emerging,
by way of wings, soaring,
above our ****-spattered clouds.
if you’ve got me,
I’ve got you, too
Ken Pepiton Apr 2021
Any one hidden once may
be shown. Whole/parts
Any one
Any thing e may signify. A dot, a jot, a little tic
to the smooth tight stretched string remnant

of a once noble and good idea, with all the best
sci-entious knowers of numerical ways and means
of propagating an aspect of realty

we need to know. we do, we must know, we feel it

courios. curio. imp-ul-pel, **** and blow, inexorable

pop the foolish thought. why, would I?
ah, gigo go go take out the trash

but it's real, it can't be
worthless. Being
real is the absolute most worth in any ever imagined.
Even hell.

Yeh.
Wanna go there?
Wanna ride?

Step inside my mind, the liars used then said,
we yoosta say,
read'em 'n'weep… sweep sweep

sweep m'chimbly fuerboy, while I sort through the ash,
pshawt sawt
into central London feels surreal every time things fall off from the everyday
in the vicinity
of Bow, Stratford and Mile End
Mateuš Conrad

From <https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4313339/comment/>

in a flash
s'jew see that, the light house danced, a little.

-- Evvy Pax, my grandson finale, thinks

Pokémon! Those are everywhere, sending messages,
with seeming uncertain sounds,
something like

help, we've fallen, and we can't get up.

Call to Emergency Locators: SHOW THE WORLD
PEACE OF MIND, WHENEVER YOU ARE AWAY,

let emergency locaters know and we notify you,
after we call the authorized property protectors.

------ that was 1991, on Texas Street
------ four years prior to the Fred Pryor Internet in a Day
the resumé of a myth,
cliché  resumes… this is that mythic stage, plain, flatout

one being
a while
alone
time……
Only
Bums and truly rich beings who live to tend fires in minds
enduring auto-de-fe
resting from tirades tuned to deaf ears determined
to serve com-plete, full to

the limit of the fire's reign, gno se? Fuerverge,

the character first to reveal the valour in the name

Keeper of the sharpest stick,
the stick that did not burn, but stirred morning fires.

Arize, cousins, sing in the son with the birds and lizards.

Hoo Hoo who RAH YA 'LL AI AI AI served you, see
De - as in
complete (adj.)
late 14c., "having no deficiency, wanting no part or element; perfect in kind or quality; finished, ended, concluded," from Old French complet "full," or directly from Latin completus, past participle of complere "to fill up, complete the number of (a legion, etc.)," transferred to "fulfill, finish (a task)," from com-, here probably as an intensive prefix (see com-), + plere "to fill" (from PIE root *pele- (1) "to fill").

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=complete>

In this end, we get what we made life worth getting.

Sound crazy. All way at once. Con vergence sense.
A page in a novel in the state of constant originating, with a frosting of quantum foam- the chapter is here:
https://kenpepiton.com/?p=1146
Cronkite did the talking.
Nixon started walking.

Through the rabbit's ears
we saw it all.

Windows down by cranking.
Kids still got a spanking.

Food stamps were on paper
not on cards.

Pryor told the jokes.
Everybody smoked.

Man things were different
way back then.
Victor Tripp Dec 2014
We're two men walking on the same street, and since I don't like you
Must come up with a plan to **** with a bullet or chokehold and say
That you tried to take away my police gun, after a few days the Grand Jury will decide that I committed no crime and I'm walking around free
While you're buried in the ground, my badge is untarshed
I'm trying to stay out of the headlines and not make a fuss
But everybody knows the truth of RICHARD PRYOR'S words when
He said that JUSTICE is JUST US
Evan Stephens Dec 2022
We were just telephones
full of young ***,
sharp breath and sticky,
talking into sleep...

I'd dial into your machine,
it was your mom singing
"Splish Splash" by Bobby Darin,
you were so embarrassed

(with that button nose
you hated so much),
but it was always OK, Kelly.
We met just the once, at Alan's party,

for his basement Exorcist
& you clutched my hand in the dark.
When you're 15, that kind of thing
takes on certain meanings.

When you broke us up
I sobbed in my bedroom,
pleading to Richard Pryor
who I had pasted to the ceiling.

I lost track of you
until you married my blond
summer steakhouse boss:
everyone said you weren't happy.

Now you are a minus sign,
a gauze-ghost, an atom-gap,
a redheaded dull-bladed heartache
who I thought I loved, once

(in my teenage way, I did).
I buttoned my shirt wrong
while remembering you,
I tasted you in a glass of rye.

There is a freeze coming.
Wear a scarf, a good jacket:
the rain is coffin lacquer gloss
as it shines and skitters into ice.
one night in the end of October drifting through the woods
there rose up a demonic creature that would haunt the neighborhood
one such occasion it bit this little girl in the neck
blood soaked her dress & she was frantic
howls would be heard in the dead of the night sending a fright
after a duration of time a medium was sent out to look around
what they found was very frightening cause
in the center of town could be found a star pentagram
the only wise decision was to get a priest
along came Father Pryor with flaned desire to catch this creature
it was a mad double feature when an exorcist was ready for the little girl who was bitten
for it was forbidden to venture in her quaint little dwelling
over many hours of prayers with many tears the spell was broken
then things were back to normal or so they thought
then a jogger was running across the cemetery to get to there house for it was a short cut
the creature that they thought vanished attacked again
this time cutting off the man's head & left for road ****
the haunting ensued with now a killer loose
police couldn't seem to trace where the creature was hiding
then at last under an over pass came the sound of bats
the authorities dug deep inside a barren house where old man Jester had died
to there surprise was a skull with blood dripping off side of its mouth
there was a hole in the ground under Jester's home off the side of his porch
& this is there final report
this was the place where the demon creature was hiding
eyes with holes having spots
dripping blood off side
the howls of immense pain
shots were fired and aimed at the creatures head
after seven bullets the creator dropped dead
people in town kept this a secret for years all those tears
the haunting is now forbidden not a word to be said
See the people of different evils pulling stunts knevil
Devils make for the best rebels now many surpass levels
Of the beast I feast in the belly so many enemies jelly
Looking at they celly waiting for somebody to tell thee
What nerve to hit what strike to grit nobody seems to fit
The agenda number pretender civil liberty rights defender
Elite ender clauses made for the best effects my mind checks
Any intellect dialect words I speak of unknown code diodes
Alien idioms interpreted cant be decoded from my abode
Of the deepest souls sun dance romance the silver moon
Once I saw its shiny eyes light up the skies inhale the sigh
Why I magnify magneto torpedo sitting in my sixty four
Cherry red cotton flows is forgotten dropping no flopping
Stay afloat on the rhymes of note not gloat but still a goat
Know what I'm saying my heart is preying for the decaying
Human instincts savagely in sync with the laws of nature
The desire to drive people to mind of Richard Pryor stir crazy
They call me lazy cuz i refuse to be a baby in this fantasy amazing
Surface above the clouds grazing gazing off the tapes spun
Reigning as one grand champion chameleon a million
Minds to mine grind everyday I see a different sunshine lines
Being drawn across your subconscious focus nonsense  
What on the celebrities spent repent from wicked tenants
That luv the scent of death corridors to the very last stench bench
Critics who mimic gimmicks no foreplay for the wenches
I cringes over these flawed benches can you dig this pill this
Migraine to ya head forget what the others said rumors spread
Like tumors that get around latest rounds of a gun found
Deep in the heart of Capitol bringing punishment to the
Establishment can't circumvent pain no more ready for battle pins
Engraving souls within..
Qualyxian Quest Dec 2022
I think God may be beyond good and evil
Like blue and flickering fire
O'Really stole a stallion
I remember Richard Pryor

Solitude is peaceful
And sad
And lonely
Higher.

Bipolar
Older
Told her
Tryer

      Tired.
Big Virge Jun 2020
So What's The... " DEAL "...
With Those Who Use Drugs
To Make Their Lives Run... ???

By This I Mean...
How Do DRUGS Make Lives For THUGS... ?!?
And BUILD THEIR... " KINGDOMS "... !?!

Pay For Cars And FANCY Yards... !!!
Where They Live... LARGE... !!!
HARD... DARK And FAST... !!!

Because of... " CASH "...
They've Stashed Like Hash... !!!
And I Mean The GOOD STUFF... !!!!!

That Helps Them DASH...
From Land To Land UP IN Mountains...

Where Governments TRY...
But CAN'T BUY These Guys...
Whose Grade Is... HIGH... !!!!!

You See Deals Are Made...
… ALL Over The Place... !!!!!

And Violence GAINS...
You STATUS And GAME...

ESPECIALLY If...
You SHOW That You're BRAVE... !!!

And Willing To Behave...
In Ways That DISPLAY That You're UNAFRAID...
And Maybe Just A Little... INSANE... !?!?!

Like Maybe Say.... ???
Due To PROBLEMS Made...

HAVING To... SHAKE... !!!!!!!!
Some ******* Bikers...
Who Liked To Get HIGHER...

Than A Drug Inspired...
Richard Pryor ON FIRE... !!!!!

Your LIFE On The Line...
So You Go One Night...
Where You Know They... "Hide"...

And Request To See THE HEAD...  
of These... Biker Men...
And QUICKLY Suggest...
As You Face BULLETS... !!!

That You... " Sit And Talk "...
Instead of Go To WAR... !!!!!

As You Pull A GRENADE... !!!
And... Simply Say...

“Now make a wise choice,
or we die today !”

Now You're ALL ALONE...
In A GUN FILLED Zone... !!!

But A MOVE Like THAT...  
Is One That SHOWS...
Over Drugs Like Coc'...
That You WILL EXPLODE... !!!!!

UNLESS Some RESPECT...
Is QUICKLY SHOWN... !!!!

Now That's Just The Way...
That... SOME Deals Go....

But Who Can You TRUST...
When That's How You Roll... ?!!!?

Now I'm Talking Bout' DOPE... !!!
NOT **** But... SNOW... !!!!
That... Back in The Day...
Most Heads Called... “ Blow “...

Now Deals Over ****...
Like Most... " BIG DEALS "...

Have A Tendency To CEASE.
Because of... GREED... !!!

BELIEVE Money FEEDS...
How Dealers BLEED... !!!!

And Also FEEDS....
Their.... DESTINIES... !!!!!

That End Up Like VADER... !!!!!

From Drugs To...
Oh YES... Marriage Papers...

Deals Are Arranged In DIFFERENT Ways....
And Some REMAIN In Dealers Brains... !!!!!

I Was Told One Day...
By A Guy Who'd Made...

Some Deals SO REAL...
That Certain Scenes He'd Seen On TV...

Were TOO MUCH For Him To Watch... !!!
Because of MEMORIES........................... ...
of Deals That He'd Done...
Back When He Was Young...
That He Stated Were... STUNTS...

ALL Related To.... DRUGS... !!!!!

So Be WISE And RECOGNISE...
That You NEED To MOVE RIGHT... !!!!!

And NOT BE TOO FAST.....
To Sign Or Cross Lines...

When What Is REVEALED...
Is A Chance To Make....

Some.... " SHADY "...

.......... " DEAL "........
Be careful who you deal with, and, what you choose to deal in !!!
Mc Beethoven hotter than a oven tough lovin'
Shoven from the broken rhymes governing
Over those lost souls hoovering covering
Empty vessels muscle through the celestial
Astral vestibule obstacles put to test you
Invest in yourself guard wealths healths
Damaged foods is too micromanaged
controlled carnage ammo stashed in the garage
These emcees garbage leave em out for trash
fools sellin' out for petty cash mash the gas
flame on let the torch start scorching heartening
breakin' dialects witch words craft baths
Drawn from the blood spawns dusk dawn
Who wanna step on the battlefield blue shield
Of skills skipped the medical bills chill
Of the snowy ice left my head spliced spiced
Up the food the for thought running without a caught
day dreams after the creams scheme seems
groundhog day intervenes tryna picture a scene
Newsflash only way i dash is if I see deaths clash
Seen more bodies than Andy ****** suspect
Chuckie y'all cant punk me my guns like starsky
And hutch put much misery burned into a clutch
So what? You tryna do to my crew we make blues
Strum the devils harp sharp as a tac deep impact
The black habitat why they hate my stats plats
Chillin' on the walls of my bathroom stalls
Check it mind simulate like a disco friends know
I'll flip it like the Pryor show see the truth glow
Take me down cuz they scared to let us grow

Picking pieces of americas chicken pitchin'
Hot sauce got me licking finger tips twitchin'
Too much sodium for my cranium numbs
The brain cells ceased trains off the track
Its a purposefully planned attack watch ya back
See the darts aimming at the light pierced the dark
Of ya heart i wanna be free let my mind park
On being next to the seven seas enjoy the breeze
Close my eyes let my mind perceive receive
Full contact of mother nature's maxed
out put benefits see the virus of the infants
Souls cries flesh dies see the width of they eyes
Lies deepest innocence nurses hesitance
Love seeing the devils dance ants in pants
Liar til they pants on fire hotter than a dryer
Off the buds i grew wiser wisdom miser
Admirer to those living in consequences dire
Roll like a tire round chaos advoid the flat cross
At the roads got choices to make intake
Let the lightning stake thunder brings in the fate
As my brain begins to storm sly from the harm
Far from the norm the adnorm is now the norm
I let the fire storm from the sun cook a warm
baking earthquakes all over the states crates
Of hearses spreads like biblical verses
Displays Leviticus to exodus trust as the sins gush
Like a volcano molten ashe let the ashe crash
Against the water arises the smoke notes throat
Open on the auroras can't ignore tha plethora
Of pain digestin' in the earths terrains
Simple and plain muddy stains cocaines
Pulled from the cocoa leaves do you believe
In Death before dishonor stalked like Conner
Terminators after me last of the realist dynasty
Cedric McClester Dec 2019
By: Cedric McClester

We  owe you
A debt of gratitude
When we started out
You were the dude
Whose comedy
Helped set the mood
You were better than a plate
Of hot cooked food

In your footsteps
Is were we all tread
We listened closely
To every word you said
You’re the one who
Put it in all of our heads
That we could be like you
On TV in fancy threads

You know we owe it,
All to you
You’re the main reason
Why we do what we do
You’re the one we studied
And pointed to
When we decided
On comedy too

You probably got yours
From Richard Pryor
But you’re from our era
So we hold you higher
You’re our muse
And you inspire
Us to always do our best
And to reach higher











Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019.  All rights reserved.
Big Virge May 2020
I Really Think...
That What’s Happening Can Bring Good Things... !!!

Like MORE Thinking And LESS HATING... !!!
Because In These Days Why Would You Embrace...
Ideas of Race Hate When You Are Forced To...

....................... "ISOLATE"................... !!!

What Kind of Race War Can You Wage... INDOORS...
Although I’m Sure Some Are Trying Via Internet Science... !!!
To Incite Violence Like... Supremacist Tyrants... !!!

But I Agree With Pryor...

When It’s Freezing Outside You Tend To Find...
That Race Hatred Is Put Aside...
Even By... The Most HATEFUL Types... !!!

What I’m Saying Is Now...
That Things Have Turned Sour...

We Need To Uplift From PETTY Things...
It’s A Time To Uplift Minds...
Through The Things We Choose To Write...
And To Recognise What’s IMPORTANT In Life... !!!

Because Material Greed...
CAN’T Fight A Disease Like This Corona Breed... !!!

It’s A Time For Education...
That DOES NOT Deal...
In DIVI - DING Populations... !!!

Do You Get What I’m Saying... ?!?

We Need MORE Consideration...
And... LESS of This Hating... !!!

Because It’s Formation...
Has Been Causing Vibrations...
Now KILLING Young Generations... !!!

We Need MORE Meditation...
For Them To Start Raising Themselves From Irritation...

So That They Can Start Relating...
... About COLLABORATING... !!!

That Works Towards UNIFICATION..... !!!!!
Instead of Provocations...
That’s Leading Them To Stations...
Where Corrupt Police Are Waiting... !!!!!

With All This Isolation It’s A Time For Conversations...
That Deal In... ELEVATION...
of Where Their Thoughts Are Stationed... !!!

Its A Time For... Deliberations..................
That REDUCE... Discrimination... !!!!

There’s So Much More That This Can Bring...
Than Loss of Life And People Mourning... !!!

That’s Right... THIS Corona Thing... !!!!!
Because How We Have Been Living...
Now CLEARLY Needs... “ RETHINKING “...
It’s A Time For... MORE Forgiving... !!!

And A Time For THOUGHT NOT Drinking... !!!

Because THAT May Be Linking...
Certain Heads To Sinking...
In A Time Where Social Living...
Is Now Driven By Distance... !?!?!

It’s A Time For Folks To LISTEN.... !!!
Instead of Being... DISMISSIVE... !!!!!

It’s A Time For POSITIVE Missions... !!!
Where Our Human Condition...
Starts Dealing In Uplifting...
Instead of Pointless Dissing...

It’s A Time For Politicians...
To STOP All Their Restricting... !!!

Through Wars That Breed Conditions...
Like The One This Thing Is Bringing...

A Virus Now In Vision...
That’s Dealing In NUFF’ Killing... !!!

My Statements Have A Mission...
To Stop This... Politicking... !!!
And Talk Filled With Derision...
Because Such Talk Keeps Bringing...
An Ignorance That’s Stinging... !!!

It’s Time For Less Racism...
From People In Positions...
Who Shouldn’t Be So Smitten...
With Things Breeding Division...

Because Coronas Brought...
A Lot of Things To The FORE...

Economic Wars...
And Technology Like This 5G... !!!
That’s Leading To Conspiracies...
Based On..... " Theory "......

That Some Are Linking To What’s Deemed...
As A Major Part of This Corona Disease... ?!?
Well Quite Frankly... We Need LESS of These... !!!

Unless They Deal In... What Is REAL... !!!
Cos’ It’s A Time Believe Me For LESS Fallacies... !!!

And FINALLY...
It’s A Time That CAN BREED... !!!
More Love For Each Other And YES.... UNITY.... !!!!

Because.....
Even Though We Live...
Through A Time Like This...
When This Virus Exists....

“It Can Still Bring Good Things !”......
As the poem suggests folks .......
Qualyxian Quest Jul 2023
Awakening is slow
Involves many people
Plant a demon seed
Raise a flower in Fire

Not a party of one
But I do need solitude
Invisible threads connect
Philly Irish higher

Shakyamuni Buddha
Sage of the Shakya clan
You must first be the Path
Cannot be a liar

Steve Martin
Eddie Murphy
Dave Chappelle
Richard Pryor

                 Saturday Night!
Zee Jan 2020
I set myself on fire like I’m Richard Pryor
I am getting higher than my love desires
I am not a liar, only tired, uninspired and rewired
I am firing syllables like bullets,
So the fullest of you can burst black and blue
What should I do, I turn into you
Subscribe to the pain, don’t worry it’s peer reviewed
Sniffing animal glue, becoming the wandering jew
And covering the hotel room with my residue
Hitherto you’ll grow into your interview
Live up to to your retinue
Sever the connective tissue between your issues
And taste the powdery mildew that’s infected us.
Trust issues don’t interest me, plus
If I’m honest, thus, I’m used to the treasonous
Since they’ve already pushed me under the bus
And left with too many topics to discuss
I’m bleeding pus on these pages
and I kinda like the way they resemble you.

— The End —