49

I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod.
Twice have I stood a beggar
Before the door of God!

Angels—twice descending
Reimbursed my store—
Burglar! Banker—Father!
I am poor once more!

But then that Bronze you would Commercialise
Out of those Hands which reimbursed your Win
Need not be Displayed; For Humble concise
The Best Blown Victory embraces your Skin
Like that Gold-Dresser his Scriptures resume
Though unexpected Prime Tarriff despite
Saw this Next Call for Excitement subsume
For the Corvocado Christ he'll incite
And as for you, to Teeny-Bopps you relate
And Promote your Sport as a Pop-Ear's Rage
With Some at-risk, masturbed and hate
The Artist's Garden stolen for corsage.
There are certain Themes which need no Reform
That if we do, such Gremlins we Transform.

I am the vessel of my ship,
I am to wrestle a little twit.
Will you help me find my virginity?
I think I've lost it somewhere,
Or someone borrowed it.

I am a farmer of black beans,
I am the Tarmac at the airport,
Will you join me for coffee?
I think I'm seeding the soil,
I found purchase in this toil.

I hate traffic and sputnik,
I love triptychs and music,
Is it you, me and everyone we know?
I guess we can play monopoly,
Just lay down your weapons, I'm fun you see.

Of course you can trust me,
I'm not a wet black bean,
Can I sing the national anthem?
I speak ****** and some other lingo,
I read French and women undress.

On second thought I'll be a stallion,
And yes I'm part French-Italian.
How far does it go?
I'll tell you what, do you know the muffin man?
The one that lives on Drury Lane?
If you do open up, let Thomas the train do his run.
A hippopotamus would laugh at this,
These lines said with such a clever lisp.
It'd have to be high as a koala bear,
Eating eucalyptus leafs at the fair.

I couldn't be more assured of this,
I wouldn't be reimbursed to read miss.
Doesn't it hurt? Aren't you choking yourself?
No me feel no pain,
Cookies are like nova cane.

Last but not least,
It feels better than summer heat,
The question everyone is a critic for,
Are you happy?
If Lois Lane was a *****,
Cookie Monster a compulsive eater.
Then of course I'm sure.

Before this ardent Prank you consider
Concern your Senses on how they'll react
If, with Plomb expressed, breach this Barker
To demote his Heresy into Fact
Of course, seldom would we fancy such scene
And kiss Companion we will christen Hope
Which, by your Rights thereof, absorb such Mean
Then ferry those Weights as a New Year's Dope
It is a Being. Sentient as he
Whose Cuteness reimbursed his Nature make
Which, invest his uttermost Respect be
Will his Innocence and Comfort bespake.
Humour cures. In this Shaky World indeed
To sew its Scars; Promote Contempt at speed.

That crude-spoken Sovereign commands a big stick,
runs the world into ruins, once our bailiwick.
Questioned why, He grins grimly, pale lips slightly pursed:
"Vindication? Straightforward: It's Me and Me First".

(To mesmerise people He’s conjured His spells
with the pride and the power that Lucifer sells –
using tricks of the trade, evil voodoos well-versed
well engendered His mojo: "It's Me and Me First").

His friends (not His foes) form the skeletal men
along trails of dead ends (for they're armed once again)
and they're counting the bones of the bodies dispersed
by His bombastic lyrics: "It's Me and Me First".

The crater walls crumble, the dust drapes and smothers,
as drummers drown screams in the dreams of the others –
while beating and throbbing, like red veins aburst,
bleating echoes redouble: "It's Me and Me First".

A warrior departed to fight for His flag
and returned as a body brought back in a bag;
alas, such are the stories of soldiers coerced
by the Devil's damnation: "It's Me and Me First".

Beneath His thick thumb, the deprived do and die,
when subjected to whims, promised pie in the sky –
yes, His heavy hand rules, and the weaklings be cursed
for accepting His sermon: "It's Me and Me First".

He's minding our business by forging fake fears
and He'll serve and protect as the bogeyman nears
by ensuring our fantasies' phantoms are nursed,
smirking: "why should you worry, It's Me and Me First".

The media moguls flash news so fantastic –
their hearsay on Honcho's forever elastic
with doctrine and hogwash and hype interspersed
'twixt the dictums of hell and of "Me and Me First".

The masses partake in His royal cavalcades
giving chase to the hearses in midnight parades
through the catacomb caves where we're falling headfirst
down the bottomless pit of "It's Me and Me First".

The children in ghettos, like slave mutineers,
vainly venture to flee before youth disappears
but their ship's on an ocean that can't be traversed
for their sails line the abyss of "Me and Me First".

While His Highness drives oxen, He's sipping champagne
thinking "each shares a trough so that none need complain",
but the water hole's drying, we're dying of thirst,
so says "sorry you guys but It's Me and Me First".

A drifter once hinted behind weary tears
"overall the world's dying or so it appears";
He replied with a flash and a sudden outburst:
"yes, but who really cares when It’s Me and Me First"?

In Great Again moments we get the DT's
from His paranoid penchants, quite like a disease,
one which spots us, then rots us, then worse comes to worst
when He utters "just Trust Me: It's Me and Me First".

When profits are plunging (approaching the pits)
He won't give up the ghost or start calling it quits,
instead purges our pockets; again reimbursed,
says (re-groping His kitty): "It's Me and Me First".

The King condescends to a sharing charade
by dispensing desserts at the penny arcade –    
yet while crawling for crumpets, the crowds are dispersed
being slogged by the slogan: "It's Me and Me First".

When faced with the facts, He's the Greatest denier
that global abuse means all life may expire –
He scoffs at the thought that it can't be reversed,
says "it's not about you, no: It's Me and Me First".

With profits performing, He smiles, misinforming  
- of weather that's warming (whilst whirlwinds twist, storming),
- of jungles conforming to nature deforming,
- of bees no more swarming, thawed glaciers transforming
bold mountains to molehills on sand bars submersed –
can the earth persevere when: "It's Me and Me First"?

                        EPILOG
If you're feeling unsettled, there's no need to fret
for it's all a delusion, and lest we forget
He repeats His old mojo (a line well-rehearsed):
"just like almighty Yahweh: It's Me and Me First".

                      EPITAPH
The remains of the deserts and wasteland lie here
where the vacuum implodes and the silence is sere
when retelling the tales of the sagas immersed
in the mythos and legends of "Me and Me First".

The stone statuettes (swapping vain epithets)
consigned rational threats (those that wisdom begets)
to their nothingness nets spread in dank oubliettes,
losing aberrant bets with no real regrets
(scorning pale silhouettes that the conscience besets).

Nonetheless, when the cosmos and chaos conversed
they but hee-hawed the hubris of "Me and Me First”.

She lay in the bath, half asleep or half awake she wasn't sure, but the warm water floated gently around her infinitely. And just like the memories in her mind the water lapped aimlessly at nonexistent edges, spilling over, as if wandering off the edge of the world.  
She moved her hand carelessly to tuck an escaped strand of hair behind one ear as the water hugged the creases and crevasses of her body, all contained in a white bowl of serenity with the only disruption in her mind. She starred absentmindedly into the reflection in the water, a distorted and watery version of her blue eyes and curly hair, although somewhere inside her she knew she was beginning to feel more like her reflection every day. Her tear stained eyes stared back at her, the makeup smudges making her look skillfully tired and worn as though an artist himself had hand crafted her very face and in the process aged her 5 years. Inside she lulled away, wanting to melt into the water and never care about anything more than was necessary. The soft, happy, carefree side temporarily locked away, with a combination that even she did not yet know. Instead an emotional whirlwind of feelings, angry and powerful tunneled out, amplified by so much as a word or a thought. It was these moments that almost took her by surprise, as if it was someone else pushing these people out, in an attempt to avoid explaining. This was accompanied by feeling as though the world had given her everything to live for and everything to lose in one breath. Her ragged breathing had eventually softened to an emotional sigh of trembling lips as she reimbursed herself with more hot water. Feeling it burn on her leg she watched pink ovals appear,  stinging with regrets and pain, a constant wishing to go back and re do and apologies and pause and rewind and forward.
With a click of her heel she snapped the plug away, maybe in some attempt to also drain herself of her tribulations that had almost enveloped her entire bath. Watching the water disappear quickly, she was entranced at the waters escape, loving how eager it was to run away from her. And with this she felt relief, as though she could finally breathe.

500 or 504
"an error - we'll fix it asap"
well, i've stopped keeping score
of the ineptness of this app

"Uh oh, we encountered an error
making this page for you.
We've been notified of this terror
and we'll make it up to you"

"we'll wire you $100
for every minute you've wasted
for the anguish and the hollers
and the powerlessness you've tasted."

"we know how awful it is
to loose your work in a second,
the hard work, sweat and tears
when it's all computed 'n reckoned."

"We're sure £10,000 won't go amiss,
we've sent it to your account,
sorry we were disastrously remiss -
we hope you'll accept that amount."

Reality, my friends, can daunt,
so i shall daydream all i want
though i'd sooner be piggybacking a leviathan fish
i may still fantasise and wish!

we went to hiroshima
to look at salvaged pieces
of mangled corpses,
twisted limbs
that were once controlled
by human brains

we lowered our heavy heads
and squinted our blood shot eyes
to read the time frozen on
the wristwatch of a
severed arm,

10:18

it was 10:18 twice today,
it will be 10:18 twice tomorrow
and my arm is in its socket now
but when will my watch stop ticking?

when will my wrist disintegrate
so much that the tan leather strap
will cease to be strapped to anything at all?

as if my senses have been
heightened in this instant
i can hear the faint
whisper from my arm,
"tick, tock, tick, tock"
i am older with every slight
motion of each narrow hand

consistently aging,
rhythmic like perfect breathing,
always dying,
always dying

there is no space
that time doesn't occupy

but we went to hiroshima
to look at salvaged pieces
of mangled corpses,
twisted limbs
that were once controlled
by human brains

and we were comforted,
all gathered between museum walls
to see the depth of our mortality,
without really having to feel it

here,
we were safe,
at least we pretended to be

because here,
we were looking at death
encased in glass,
death right beside
a hanging sign that read
"do not touch glass"
in red ink

here,
we could see death
but we couldn't get too close
and to us that meant
death can see us
but it couldn't get too close

so we stood before
every expression
of frozen time,
the end of time,
the continuation of time,
with this plexiglass shield
that we thought was immortality,

drunk on this illusion
that we were somehow
being protected from our own
inevitable doom
by some material
produced by men in a factory,
and held down by two screws
on either side

every time we inhale,
every time we exhale
the unpredictable moments
that cradle our glass lives,
while reaching over
glistening concrete
where we can turn into
a heaping pile of blood
and sharp edges,
losen their grip
every single time
we inhale,
every single time
we exhale

we can pretend
that air is endless,
and i guess it is
but individually
it can't be

individually,
air is limited

each one of us
are only allowed so much,
some of us less than others,
but for all of us the same rule applies,
each breath is spent,
never lended

each breath
is a breath we will not
be reimbursed for

so,
we pay to
scrunch our noses
up like sleeping bags
and open our eyes wide like
neglected *** holes,
at the sight of
time all caged up
cause we need to
believe we have a say

For money and gold
For you
His life was sold
Gave his location
In sin you gave into temptation
Then with a greet of a kiss
From your deceitful lips
He was betrayed
By you
A heart that was lost and filled with greed
But in this transaction you went insane
Infected
Cursed
In your realization
You tried to get reimbursed
But your faith was sealed
For the prophecy had to be fulfilled
And as you stood at the top of the hill
Beneath a tree past its prime
You hung yourself
Until the kicking in your feet went

It’s good, but not what we’re looking for right now.
Oh, but it stings. And how!
The position’s closed, better luck next time
Your lips are bruised purple from that smile.

We loved it, but it doesn’t fit with our current line-up
You take a bitter sip of the salty tea-cup.
It’s good, dear, just not for me
You nod, you understand, ‘cause it ever is.

Your throat stings from not screaming loud enough,
Frustration the itch of a swallowed cough.
You’ve heard it a hundred times, and yet the hundred-and-first
Burns like every regret thrice reimbursed.

But while they wound, they aren’t nearly as bad,
As the radio silence of indifference ironclad.
Refreshed inboxes and double-checked call logs tell
The sordid tale of a dream drowning in the wishing well.

Vacancies disappear and resumes languish
Receptionists pout in parodied anguish.
It’s never you, it’s always them,
It’s never you’re-not-good-enough, it’s always not-the-right-fit.

It’s all the same, yet unique every time
Nobody’s got a minute, but asking’s not a crime.
It’s self-flagellation with a calling card
We don’t give a ****, best regards.

Your name’s not on this list, or the next one
And yet you walk, ‘cause you can’t outrun
The ghost of a dream, of a hope long gone
Of finding the happily-ever-after in life’s lexicon.

every bodies broken
yea nobody works
Like giving up a paycheck
stedda giving up your shirt.
Happiness is broken hands just chokin out the hurt.
Well more like life is such a tease who cheats til death is just a flirt.
Well I know I'm a nice guy
who's really such a ****.
I saw that light casts its own shadow so it has a place to lurk.
worms are treats for creatures but they're life inside the dirt
the same dirt our lovers bodies become when they meet their worst.
Your body is a vessel carried round inside a hearse.
The road in the cemetery can't be rode in reverse.
Like life makin little eggs or was it chickens who were first
we cluck and **** and find no answers but have knowledge of a thirst.
we do doing poorly so well that it must've been rehersed.
I'd rather see a play where we're all getting reimbursed.
the endings always happy cuz we're happy being cursed
We'd probably take that money buy unhappiness or something worse.
Ok.

Trains don't run
Planes don't fly
Cars & buses come to borders and reverse
I'm bumping into myself
trying to tell her
I miss her

Films are lame
Music's bland
art is feeble & inert
and none of the books on my shelf
can make me forget
that I miss her

City's bare
shops are closed
someone's getting reimbursed
I await the government's help
since I've declared
that I miss her

Flat is clean
dinner's cooked
and this hangover is a curse
Now that I've allowed myself
beyond all hope
to miss her

What you know about sleepless nights cause you brains have dispersed?
Getting back time & interest that will never be reimbursed
Keep running into roadblocks everywhere I turn
Having interest in these women but never getting the same love in return
What’s the use of trying to find something different when it doesn’t exist?
When every female you meet, there’s no loyalty that consist
She believes she’s special when she ends up in my bed
Feeling on top of the world due to something that I said
Are you still gonna ride even when things get tough?
Are you really about that life? Is your love the one I can trust?
Trying to be a better man but I’m battling bad habits
Hard to be faithful when the loyalty is absent
Back & forth with my emotions, some days I don’t care if you’re mine
The sad reality is that I’m loving you blind
Dealing with a heart that’s mentally unstable
Not ready to love you & I know you feel the betrayal
Who can love you better than me? I won’t lie
Let the gun go baby, I don’t wanna see this love die
Here we go again. Why can’t you let it go? I don’t wanna fight anymore
Why can’t you let it go? Just want this love to be restored

currently, stuck in this altered reality
of what is and what could of been

been holding onto feelings way too long
the way u treat me cant go on
hurts to think of how thing use to be
now drowning out these memories
with melodies
my remedies
consist of new bad tendencies
and the energy
I've wasted cant be reimbursed
in the end i think loving you was just a curse

Brisbane bowling trip day 4

Today i had a fun day in Brisbane
Started off having a late breakfast
At 7-30 and then I went to my room
To clean my teeth and watch a bit of Ted Danson’s Becker
And then I went to the lobby to wait with the others
And the hotel people wanted to take our photo in the car park
And then we all hopped in the bus and off to the bowling alley
And it was a fun ride, and we got there
And I ran in straight in to get my ball and shoes
Mind you I do find it fun with the alley ***** and shoes
I don’t have to carry it with me
And then I started to bowl, I was on the same lane as graham
From Queensland who bowled 177 and 179 and 124
And I bowled 144 and 121 and 122; the scores were
****** better than yesterday and I sent some of those pins packing
And when I finished I went over to have lunch which
Consisted of a Mexican nachos which took 40 minutes to be ready
Which was a ****** long time mate, I tell ya I tell ya I tell ya
And after I watched my fellow team mates we went home
And we all gathered in the lobby to see which people
Want to go shopping and which people didn’t want to go
And I chose to go, to the shop, and when we got to the shops
I went with Mark and Belinda and Paul and Vince and myself
We went to a gift shop, I bought a Brisbane cap and a book called
101 cool.hair raising HORRORS which is a no.1 best selling series
And then we stopped off at rebel sport and I bought a Anaheim mighty ducks beanie and then we had dinner, I had fish and chips and a pineapple juice and we all had to each pay $56 each even if I didn’t
Pay that much, I felt like Becker in the dinner and a showdown episode
I only should’ve paid $30, I should get reimbursed for that, what a ******
And then I took photos of Brisbane city and we all walked home
Some people worried that my leg was too swollen
But I know I could walk, I might be fat I might be fat but I still can walk fast
And then we picked up our washing and went into our room
And silly old me, forgot to bring my hotel room key with me
Thant Christ, I didn’t lose it
And after I walked I had a drink of water, watched footy and went to bed

You're bold like December
The harvest held fast against nature's cruel hand
Your smile is made
Of fire and sand
Your shoulders are made
Of porcelain and ash

You are what you are,
And there's no going back
It's your time to talk
But I'm holding my tongue.

But loose my bad hand, a terrible curse...
You turn to the world
And are not reimbursed
A dignified soldier of love
My sidestepping
Should sneak on by
Like a cat in the night x)

Before money, exchange,

was possession transfer.


Barter arrived later, with

it came valuation systems.


That ushered in weights

and measure estimations.


Political ransom followed,

such as The Holocaust.


This was an incalculable

product (to be reimbursed).


Since the Gaza Genocide,

it has totally depreciated.


Palestine is where people

with empathy invest now.

The hush money trial continues in court
While Trump's in the midst of electioneering.
Based on what witnesses there are saying,
This is a tidbit of what we've been hearing:

Allen Weisselberg° went to McConney°°
And said to send money to Michael Cohen,
Who had borrowed money to pay
Stormy Daniels. The money's now flowin'.

Stormy Daniels, of course, is the **** star
With whom Trump had an intimate fling.
The fling itself is not illegal;
However, the hush money is, ka-ching!

Trump signed the checks that went to his "Fixer,"
For Cohen expected to be reimbursed.
Deep in the pool of complicity,
Trump and Cohen both were immersed.

Nine of the checks that Trump had signed
Came from his personal bank account.
The money that Cohen received in return
From Trump was even a larger amount.

Criminal conspiracy!
Hush money paid before an election
To wrongly influence election results!
In THIS case it has a salacious connection.

To mix a couple figures of speech,
There is a saying in Latin that goes
"***** erectus non habet conscientiam."°°°
Yep, that hits it right on the nose!

For his involvement, Cohen was found
Guilty and served his sentence. Let's see
If Trump will find a way to finagle
A not-guilty verdict and get off scot-free.

-by Bob B (5-8-24)

°Trump's former financial chief
°°Jeffrey McConney, former Trump Organization employee
°°°"An ***** ***** has no conscience."