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Madzq Aug 2014
Lovesick and you've got the cure.
Got all these symptoms. You know what for.
Don't be afraid of this contagious disease,
Just take my requisition form.

I've made room for you in my atria and ventricle.
You're the capillary to my arteriole and venule.
You're the amniotic fluid to the child in my heart.
I find you even in the interstitial parts.

Treatment like uours is like a centrifugAl force.
So be the **** stasis my heart is longing for.
Some homeostasis is what we need.
We will make compromises to succeed.

Lay me supine and you in prone.
Sensory neurons fire
Exocrine glands make to pressure
Spark endocrine glands to hear you moan.

Without your heart I'd be anemic.
Withiutbyour arms I'd be half a paraplegic.
Your kisses give me air, without them I'm cyatonic.
You're the fibrin in my veins, to my pain an anesthetic.

I'm ready for some long-term care and affection.
Got a chronic condition that needs your attention.
I k now I'm concluded, parts of me sclerosed.
Don't wait post mortem to know that you're the most.
I wrote this for my partner as a way to help me memories my medical terminology.
Smoke Scribe Aug 2018
Imagine that
I could write a salve,
compose an ointment of verbal herbs to heal,
even mere protect the already-torn-so-easy mental flesh,
just to disguise/hide the multi-colored bruising our
fickle mistress-in-common provides when you are down so far
another bruise joining the cast like a  floodplain subsuming one more feeding creek bed into the shapelessness of indistinguishability

imagine that

where atoms hide eternal between creation and destruction,
borrow brief the set exact you require to restore the taken years
from fathers/mothers/brothers/sisters,
children,
return that which went unused by the uninvited, unseemly human whim of war and lies for no gain

imagine that

the deep sinkhole of despair that ***** one in, years in the formation, appearing in instance, and worse does not drowns but leaves helpless, unable to climb out, and all our scratching digs us in deeper until we cannot be, seen or heard or just be

imagine that

a check comes in the mail, payable left open for filling-in,
in the amount of full restoration, with no additional fees of guilt needed for deposit and cashing/caching out: and you wake up
and the stony chest is breathing lungs free

imagine that

and I do; for I am the smoke of return and rest, sky inscribing,
knowing precise needs and the screams and the years unfair taken,
they are screened through the five perceptions, and the word weaver
sets the loom for each peculiar requisition, no imagination needed

imagine that

you lament and anger demand verifiable proofs mathematical,
cursing the knights of false hopes with untethered regret

I do not imagine that; hear it and accept; my task, imagine that, making you imagine that, thus commencement of repair begins
when

we imagine that

for this how new healthy cells  are born

quiet-now,  go, imagine-that, now
if you recognize yourself within, it is no accident!
thank u all for the love and appreciation. one writes many poems in many disguises, so it is hard to believe  that an 8 month old poem, sent to you for safekeeping, is shortly thereafter barely recalled.
and then is rebirthed, and wouldn’t change a word...
imagine that!
pitch black god8 Aug 2018
~a question of a thousand dreams~^

“Where are you going now my love? Where will you be tomorrow? Will you bring me happiness?  Will you bring me sorrow? All the questions of a thousand dreams, what you do and what you see”

this one composes itself
for all dreams go unremembered
the first, the thousandth, the  every in between,
erased by the push button of opening eyes

but dreams come, marching in, saints mining the raw materiel
the quartermaster has stored, awaiting requisition by an
unarmed unnamed corp, witnessed but never seen

these dreams wisped soft willow budded, tempting taunting,
leaving nothing but unanswered questions that colored come
in black and white

elementary clues,
a pillow indentation,
single hair that stretches
across the sea between two pillows that is blonde or red  
but
certainly unmine,  
dregs of soured sentiment linger like the
aftertaste of too many coffees and stainless steel beers

heated summers breezes give no succor or relief,
and the rain following gives no pleasure,
for now you are hot and soaked,

but somewhere in there a dream is part replayed,
and eyes widening in major league surprise,
the question acknowledged, the dreams quest hinted  

she has gone, neither happiness or sorrow will she
provide on the morrow, no toweling of your wet hair fair,
and you awake sweat besotted, it is not rain, just pain,
and it is only one dream a thousand times repeated

and what you do and what you see
is the abraded night ahead, and
you bitter laugh, for there is no more other than to think,
the question answered, and you beg relief by
uttering
perchance to dream

3:49 pm

see the notes!!


someone accuses me of Plagiarism
because  I did not acknowledge that the quote in marks and Italics was from a famous song written 39 years ago

so here is my response to
“just saying”

congratulations on ******* me off
and yes I agree, you do not know the rules

“#1: Quotation Marks Are for Quoting People—Verbatim
Perhaps it should go without saying, but quotation marks are for quoting people. Quoting doesn’t mean summarizing or paraphrasing; it means repeating exactly what someone said. If you put double quotes around a phrase, your reader will often assume  that someone, somewhere, said that exact phrase or sentence.“

http://thevisualcommunicationguy.com/2013/09/11/10-things-you-really-need-to-know-about-quotation-marks/
lyric  from “Carry On”
by Crosby Stills Nash and Young

which is why it is in quotation marks

but you knew that already

my god strikes me dead ic I ever plagiarized in my life; no splotches of apologies needed
1602

Pursuing you in your transitions,
In other Motes—
Of other Myths
Your requisition be.
The Prism never held the Hues,
It only heard them play—
Mx K Slade Dec 2013
“Like Emerson I write above the mantle of my door ‘whim’”.
I’m a Wildean character in a tragedian’s play.
The tired hedonist in pursuit of beauty.
Meenu Syriac Sep 2014
As the wind tangled in the curls of Aphrodite's hair
Entwined as though, being apart means to speak blasphemy
As the waves rushing to kiss the shore
Urgent desires being locked up for too long.
As the breath of air, potent and needed
A gasp of life flowing into the veins.
As sinful as the first bite of the forbidden fruit
Seeking only enlightenment and truth.
That's how much I hate to see you go
That's how much I need you.
**Stay.
©Meenu Syriac
JP Goss Jun 2014
You
Literati
I want you to know
I’m writing to you drunk
With a sober mind that thinks in its own
One that is independent
One that is great and strong-willed
To know
You are not pursuing a life of greatness
Merely of pettiness
Of worthless endeavors that requisition an
Agenda of procreation
Of Darwinism
****,
I may be drunk or beneath the tyranny of the ALMIHGTY BEZOS
But I am consistent in my beliefs
And all destroyers of
Existence
And freedom are
Bound for
Destruction.
SO KEEP FIGHTING BECAUSE
i AM A BEING BORN OF REBELLION
AND SO ARE you.
Experimental/drunk poetry #3
Sydney Victoria Feb 2015
O, My Creator, Deliver Me From These Inquisitions,
Emancipate Me From These Wretched Oppositions,
Free Me From The Chains Of My Weary Disposition,
Envelop Me Within The Folds Of Your Holy Apparition

The Sun's Light Dwindled Along The Horizon,
Darkness Bruised The Ledges Of The Sky,
Summer's Vegetation Recoiled And Fossilized,
Within The Dark Soil's Crumbling Underlie


O, Glorious Divine Being, Act On My Requisition,
Extricate My Soul From It's Appalling Malnutrition,
This Tattered Mind Is A Degenerating Composition,
Let My Spine Sprout Wings To Carry Me To Redefinition*

Stars Emerged From The Depths Of The Heavens,
Holes Filtrating The Stale Air Circulating In Slime,
Oozing From A Fatal Virus They Referred To As Time
The Beauty Within The Physical World Will Set You Free. I Find My Salvation Within Nature.

It Doesn't Matter Who Or What You Believe In... As Long As You Feel You Are Connected To A Divinity Outside Of Yourself Which Gives You Hope, Love, And Light. I've Been Struggling With This Lately, But I Need To Realize, This Is Who I Am. So Please Forgive Me, My Creator, For Succumbing To These Painful Inquisitions.

©SydneyVictoria2015
yv Oct 2018
But love how will I ever get to forget,
your endless laughter echoing through the room
little notes of poetry you write when I'm blue.

Love, how do you expect me to move on
from someone who made me feel euphoria
someone who showed me
what it means to really be alive.

Love, how can I ever look for someone new
when it was always you, all I wanted was for you
to stay true and maybe we could get through
all the times we felt quite blue,
you were just being crude but even so I love you.

Love, can you not hear me?
I love you! from every single imperfection you have
that still somehow make you the epitome of what is perfect

I beg of you! To listen, just listen to me.
Stay, please stay, because without you
I wouldn't know what to do, or where to go to.
I am lost without you.

Love please stay, come back into my arms
and maybe we can just make love
even if it's a bit cliche
it wouldn't take too much if you would stay.

Stay and kiss my tears away.
Stay with me and forget yesterday
would that be okay?
just stay with me, love please stay.
Death-throws Mar 2015
Talk to me about indifference
Can anyone define it? Who defines ?
It’s a word we should understand clearly and fluently
Why? Well…Why not?
Because as humans, indifference is valued
Prized even
Genocide in Africa? I’m indifferent
Pity…
Poverty in our country? I’m indifferent
Pity…
Indifferent it is a word we should use so much more than we do
Indifferent to the screaming of my next door neighbours wife
Pity           …
OH Indifferent!  INDIFFERENT to the hallowed call of a child at the 6 o’clock news with a swollen belly and flies in his eyes
PITTY!
Indifferent to the passions of a man foresworn to his pride and under the influence refuses to admit to his shame!
BY GODS IM A ROBOT
Remove my emotional hardware its malfunctioning strip me of my programs their not the normal
Remove my speech circuitry I’ve been lying…
This hole time I swore closeness and collaboration..
Ideals you all share, seeing pain, listing to the agonising news off a car bomb in Syria! 118 dead! Thank god ill never meet them!
Did I know them? No? ! Well ill share a moment of agony and grief and then continue to buy slave made products and feed my mechanicals beasts with petroleum stolen from foreign lands !
I AM A ROBOT AND YOU ARE TO
Devour my heart it no longer beats, my eyes are desensitized, my spirit aghast at the agony of existing,
The high price of living I was told,
Stand fast and ready your ears like a galleon with no sails and receive the news of your defeat , or would you rather not be there to hear it?
It’s time to listen to the high price,
Social media seems to have developed unto me a craze for the worst ! ive liked pages that post videos of people killing themselves death fascinates me!
I have all of my needs catered for,  
have sources of entertainment
I have a job that allows me  to pillage part of the earth for my enjoyment
I have food that sustains me  and a group of robots that  I call friends, we share the same software  I can relate to them  via USB
And thus the only thing that excites me…that gets me going, that shakes my distraught existence is the thought of..not.
Of not existing
Indifferent..
Endure the agony of hearing that our own… brothers and sisters in humanity where killed,
Beings we share the same DNA for and beings we by some estranged number of generations are related to
Pretend to care for a moment
Indifference,
Watch my world ware thin
Watch my skin grow pale
Watch my organs fail
Indifferent.
Watch cancer take my loved ones
Watch fear destroy my hope
Alone I stand indifferent


Take me to emotion

This is not the way I was designed
The dull thud in my chest is not of rifle fire
Nor is it requisition of my life force of some higher being calling me home
No
It is the device that fights my indifference
It is the vessel that commands my soul to walk on broken glass
The dull thud It is the idea that in ideas we will never die , only grow as humans, within humanity
The dull thud ringing through my chest quickens  when I see you,
The dull thud dies down when I grow cold
It is not the pilot aimlessly guiding me through coordinates listed on a fact sheet like a tour guide
But it is the engine that drives me to aspire to be more, the location from witch I draw force, power,
I do not want to be a robot...  I never asked to be made of steel nor carbon nor sparks
An emotionless vessel to power through indignity and anxiety without a notion to an outsider,
Without consideration to feel
Without consideration to feel alive But sick…steel skin does not get ill without strain,
Steel skin does not grow pale or wither with age
The computer in my head will not fade with time
And my heart has never once stopped
I am not of robotics
I am not of steel
I am merely…
human
And I
Am not
Indifferent!
Scream to me the agony! AGH!  Genocide in Africa?  I will denounce myself to humanitarian work!
I will design my life to bring happiness and joy and inspiration to the masses! I will re-write the ground on which I stand in favour of my own desires!
Poverty in my country?! I will rise to be what is needed! And fall to be humbled!  I will writhe with angst until the government I serve hears my cries and writhes also! To change those laws written in stone and redefine what it is to be human! I will cry for every child living like a dog under the stars, under-influence and angry, because I am angry to!
The cries of my neighbor will be brought to append in front of a judge my community will whale together in her agony and burst forth with our love! we will provide! We will carry her down the streets and sing her name she is not a beaten dog but a queen of queens! As we deserve it!
I AM NOT INDIFFERENT
I am not of the programming I was designed,
Nor am I to append the functions I was written for
I am an arm that writes itself hole as it continues down the page..
I am not of machine
I am not guided by that actions of others
But I am the wholeness of myself
Though fractured I am pure,
Though ***** I am clean
Though broken I am definitively joyful.
I am not indifferent, and I will forever refuse to be so
Because if you take away my indifference…you bring me back
You will bring me back…to my humanity,

*L.G
Smoke Scribe Sep 2018
I am the smoke of return and rest,
sky inscribing,
knowing your precise needs and the
screams and the years unfair taken,
screened through five perceptions

I am the word weaver
setting the loom for each peculiar requisition,
a havened place of restoration
as best I can,
for this weaving my eye’s recollections
perfect,
no imagination needed


imagine that
Poetoftheway Jan 2015
with bodies relaxed,
but eyes observant,
they sell
five dollar bags of
***** weedy poetry

mixed clientele,
there is no age or gender or ****** preference
discrimination,
certainly none requiring critical taste,
in the buying and selling of
***** weedy poetry

commercial savants,
organized by topic,
available for purchase
love, depressing, rants and whines,
discounts for pre-owned
anti boyfriend rhymes

in his day, they say,
Whitman partook,
ferried up from his Brooklyn nook,
William Carlos Williams too,
from New Jersey came,
better to understand
the most common patois

they'll do custom stuff,
the suppliers,
mix and blend  all
kinds of ****,
their database exponential,
give them the
requisite hashtags,
and within it,
in it,
thirty minutes,
no more,
they'll requisition,
providing an acquisition -
you'll get your
name-your-own-hash,
Freedom
to entitle your own
***** weedy poetry

or you could grow you own
on the window sill
in the earth of your discarded
despair
Particle pieces
gathered, gleaned-
recovered.
Stitched and sewn.
Plush patches
mortared with Mercy.
Tears uniquely unexampled.
Yet my Redeemer’s requisition.
Girded and guarded
while broken and bandaged.
My benefactioned breath…
a cloak for the King.
Tien - Tim Jul 2013
In my bed staring at the ceiling,
Trying so desperately to get rid of this sickening feeling.
About tomorrow ...
Tossing and Turning,
Yearning...
For a peace of mind.
Time ticking yet I dare not to sleep,
Fearing what lies ahead of me,
May be a divine intervention my subconscious refuse to seek?
Deep down my heart grows weary.
In each rhythmic session,
Hours turns to minutes, minutes turns to countless seconds.
Wondering will I conquer the inevitableness of my requisition?
Inquisitive thoughts plagues my mind,
Consistently wrapping...
As I unravel today's present.
Today has been a blessing,
Too bad this gift must be thrown...
Insomnia began to attack viciously,
Through my flesh and into the bone,
I  envision that if I close my eyes,
my fate will be revealed.
Tomorrow never dies,
But unfortunately I will along with today.
By Sidney Conway and Tien Dang

This is the 2nd Revision, My friend Sidney post it and it was to late for me to add my 2nd thoughts in. Check his page out for the original and more.

"Consistently wrapping,
As I unravel today's present."

I added wrapping because because it plays on with the present as a present. "Consistently wrapping" significance is that I would continue to wrap as I unravel because I don't want today to end. Other than that there are small
Minor difference in syntax from the original and last line ending.

Here is his page:
http://hellopoetry.com/-sidney-conway/

P.S.
He also have the  unedited version of Skin Deep Thoughts/Skin Deep and Questionable Thoughts/Flip Side
It's getting darker,
malice, resentment,
jealousy,
a fruit salad Of youth misfits
from hacker
to packer,
smuggler to rapper,
but what happen was after
Was The economy became a *******

with no fathers to guide it,
cause they already tried this
Now our kids like us could lose an earlier retirement

And I'm tired of it
causing a chain of half *** generation backlash,
so more get thier back thrashed
by their own family while a fat cat

Brings bad luck like a black cat
Filthy rich while some live out of a backpack
And this is me claiming my
two cents so u can tell
The government to tax that

Cuz they Always got us to laugh at
while they get their back scratched
But he gets a happy ending so it's
not just his back scratched

No wonder hes chaffing
and'll probably be chasing penicillin
Cuz itchy And scratchy has nothing to do with cartoons to this vilan

Now the employees the boss
And the boss like ur salads tossed
But we all have to bare a cross
Now my Stomachs all in knots

Cuz Everything's, rush rush
Kiss *** kiss *** blush blush
U wanna move on  up up?
Then find a **** And **** ****

While cancers at us like duck duck
And the goose is getting more then a goose egg
when their goose is cooked

and mother goose told us about 3 political parties not just one
she said
"Three blind mice see how they run"

So while George tells the idiot a story
about the rabbits
The greedy let money make them a savage
while We die slowly from our habits,

Why do we have it,
And To call us mankind is silly
Cuz what mans kind these days really? The one thinking with his wily

to free *****, feelin up a  womans manipulations and call it biology
By staying abreast psychologically
Which is a sociopaths  ideology

now im off of my own topic
Like i provided it just to rob it
Like I went to my bank and boosted the same cash I jus deposited

No wonder Im rich with annoyance
i must have won a lottery
thats how all these things bother me
my community missing comradery

Instead we steal with robbery
slaughterin wuts left of the economy
Like ur ****** coming back again
only this time for ******

Cuz things arnt the way dey outta be. Everything's about novelty
When we need less walk in clinics for addictions, and bad doctoring

Until narcotics flood the street
Someone tell those officering
dealers r those with Scripts 4 oxys
But nice that they're offering

Wut happen to philosophy
Where are all the neo saucrates?
Shooting for monopoly but that cant save u being a ******* obviously  

oh this horror is such comedy
Lately I think i need a lobotomy
good and evil battle within me opposed Im like a walking dichotomy

Now procreations odd to me
flawed To be a double standard like belief of having no right To play god and take life yet its ok to us to play god and make life

It's contradiction is guess
depends on position I guess
2balls to help my two cents express
so this is a requisition I guess

Far from living true freedom but its
Been gone so long who needs em
People say u cant find a trusting person these days..so Y dont u B one

But no, we always need some
Reward or valid reason,
When we already got the biggest...
sharing a home in all seasons

But lately were greatly
crazy, Like oh baby
maybe lately, we fried Our brains chasin the American Dream unsafely

No wonder I sadly dislike myself
And everyone else lately
this is how the world has made me
So u can love me or hate me

But from now, I refuse to allow
Another power to make or break me
I won't follow rules or lemming like fools, I will no longer live safely

Or by a risk management thought
Cause one day well all finally stop
And See that the only real thing
Given to us is each other and not

Valuing it Is like our words and being and heard, Feeling emotion to cry
But still were sick enuf to look in a lovers eye to say I love u as a lie

So don't let them , sell u a high
sell u a dream or sell u heaven
Cuz The ones selling treatment is
usually the same ones producing the weapons

And I tried to spare u this rant
But it just can't be kept in
Something smells badly and sadly
i think its the **** I just stepped in.....
Mike Hulstrom Sep 2017
See three dimensions, the vision is blending, not to mention
Never prepared for funerals he pretends he’s attending

Scatter thought; chatterbox, planning mad hatter plots
Like neighborhood ballers posting up on the block,
Flood the hot-spot and set up a rock shop,
Got gems and minerals with more in stock
The lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock, can’t be stopped
Because three more always grow where the last head chopped

In his lair, tearing through the rarest of known tomes
Bloodied, preparing, bearing home-grown pheromones
While atoned-postponed rambo reloads ranged ammo
This ****** Stallone, left alone, changes the channel
He’s amorphous on his own
His thesaurus is his zone
Choruses to juxtapose
It’s just gorgeous when he glows
Like a broke back mat smacking crack to the dome
The knick-knack paddy-wack gives this dog a bone

One of zero ***** given.
Proposition; my vision
Requisition:
Mass transmission
Free the minds imprisoned.
Send them off christened,
Eyes bright, glistened
Blood thickened, muscles;
tightly stiffened
Sick with bliss, concisely conditioned
Well provisioned, and on a mission
Kids’ just wishin’
Fishin’ for dishin’s
Switchin’ positions like politicians

With destination anticipation
An explanations is all they’re craving
Get what’s deserved for misbehaving
Even adulated need saving
Jolly Rodger’s what’s left waving
Until the tomb needs engraving
El Dorado:
Yellow brick road, gold pavement

Just let your will blend from birth to urn
Cause I have to spend some worth to earn
Just like the
Sun comes round the bend come burst and burn
Me and the Earth, we’re both cursed to turn

Mind in a mutter, from the throat-cutter utter
Off cluttered, from sputtering up soft butter

Projectile vomitin’
Simple sad homonyms
Bent ones that haunted him
**** ones that taunted him

Crash, fell bumping a paladin’s ballad
Yelling from the cell, a hell that’s padded
Plain scabbard belt fastened
Brain splattered, well contrasted
Gotta face it, it’s just a facet
Haphazard basic *******

Dazed, he laid lazy in a field of daisies, crazy
still failing life in spite of praises, does not phase me

Never fully try, never fully fail, never succeed
He smokes **** ‘til his failure’s guaranteed

Somebody makes the calls; Atlas shrugged ‘neath it all
Pedestal built too tall; perhaps the world will fall

Out in the desert Kashmir looms like a mirage
Or am I breathing exhaust fumes in the garage

What good is my happiness, my reason, justice, or pity?
I don’t know why you’d ask me this, but I guess it’s all ******

Fight my battles rolling downhill,
Sit back while my verbs and nouns spill
Words not meant to astound, but still
Chill

I’m palm stroking broke minds
With ****** soaked rhymes

I can occur just like a canna crop trafficker
I infer with calipers; as amateurs get massacred
Like melon to Gallagher
A gallon of palaver
What else can you do but take the beat and ravage her

Precision thumbs commissioned this slurred-dumb, late ***
With blood, sweat and tears smeared on the surgeon's apron

Brazen, boring, shameless; facetious
What a ****** thesis to teach us, I mean, Jesus

Witness the riots;
Sit back in silence,
Eyeless; In a crisis
Righteous, feeling timeless

I’m a weak witted weapon without suppressants
At my peak, spit blessings that best luminescence
Testing, expressing questions;
a primordial presence
Learning lessons of the essence,
Leaning in ******* obsessions
Now back to the digressions,

Enchant the mic and pass her
a wish to go follow gets a focal fracture
By the aficionado postal slasher
My vocals compact like a dope oil extractor
Spoke, spat, and risen from the earth like the rapture
Lyrics locked in; like ‘final answer’
Do a vinyl transfer
Sample and enhance her

Burn sweetest flowers hourly
The meanest greenest sour D
Take a bouquet the day he take a dowry

Fine divine entwined nugs
Unwind with the kind bud
And when it comes to this composition;
Just try it; succumb
Peel open a dub, recline, combine lovely drugs and paper.
loses loose shrubs, keeps his grip: shrugs and taper
Lick with the spit on the tip of the tongue, and savor
Chip off the old lungs, word to pops, mums and neighbors
Long lasting, juicy like a fruity gum flavor
Meet your maker, brute ****! Astute *** behavior

Faulty wiring in our brains
Exalt me as I complain
Are we just Abel's and Kane's, soon to be slain?
Perhaps maybe just a tune to be played?
Who keeps the balance of pleasures between pains
Who breaks silence for treasures? Who’s blood stains?
Dang

As I think it through, inhale and breathe fumes
I fail to read moods, but still I’ll seek tunes
As the green room’s groove looms
And the smoke plumes perfume
He unleashes leeches,
the deed is; eat his wounds
George Krokos Dec 2010
There are numbers we always work with to count or add, subtract, divide and multiply
in the times of the day, days of the week and month, months of the year which all fly;
Is this the right time? What year is this? How old are you? When were you born?
We seem to live and die by the measure of numbers in this world that we all adorn!

How much do you earn and how much do you spend?
Do you save anything at all for a rainy day my friend?
Does it cost much to buy and how much do you need?
You'll get there on time if you travel at a certain speed!
How many children have you got and how old are they?
How many toys have you bought them with which to play?

Have you ever seriously thought about the world population explosion?
Or the number of trees cut down to cause a problem with soil erosion?
How many people are there in the world today?
How many of them are born and die each day?
How many creatures can the earth possibly support?
What do those current figures tell in that final report?
How much longer will it or can it all last?
When was the beginning back in the past?

We all like to quantify and to accomplish so much
no matter how long it takes if worthwhile to touch.
The majority of people want to have more of things
particularly money to which most of their life clings.
It's no wonder as we have given a value to everything;
all we use or need: clothes, water, electricity, gas and food
even the situations that help to capture or satisfy our mood.
When are we going to start paying for the air that we breathe now?
or are we already secretly paying a costly price for it somehow?
By the way, what is your favourite or lucky number?
What is your address, postcode and telephone number?
How many times have you seen lightning without thunder?
And just how tall are you and how much do you weigh?
How far do you live from work and have to travel each day?

Everything we see, imagine and create has a size or apparent dimension for us.
We unknowingly strengthen but don't fully realize the importance of numbers.
Here's a couple for you to think about: What is the largest number?
What will be the exact distance of the furthest object seen in space
recognized by mankind at a predetermined or given time and place?

We play games by and with numbers; seen in the throwing of dice;
the deck of cards, making a bid in poker, collecting the *** is nice;
and in sport that winning or losing score
but sometimes it only just ends in a draw!
And who can say what are the odds of such a thing happening?
It feels great to be first or number one, for a while considering.
.
When we read a book usually most of the pages in it are numbered
and there were only so many copies of that particular edition printed.
Sometimes if it's a bestseller the bookshop gets to be out of stock
and has to re-order more copies from the publisher down the block
who in turn might have to authorize a second printing of that edition
thinking all the time how much more he'll make from this requisition.

What was the mark you got for that test?
and how long does it take to be the best?
When was the first and last time
that you received a parking fine?
What amount then did you have to pay?
How long over the restrictions that day?

During an election time all those people eligible to vote must give their preferences
to determine which party or person is to be elected and counting then commences
on or after a specified hour to find out who has received the majority of votes,
or in other words gained the biggest number counted to their favour that notes
and then decides the final outcome for them to govern or be in office genuinely.
So it's those who have or gain the right numbers that help them to win eventually.

Have you ever thought about what they're going to do to you when or after you die?
Well, sooner or later they are going to measure you up from head to foot as you lie,
probably all over in fact and then make a coffin based on the measurements taken
to put your body in so that they can bury it in a grave which has been undertaken;
dug to a certain depth, length and width that will be your body's final resting place
and there's an amount to pay for this as well when the time comes for that space.

What is the original perfect number?
Is it absolute zero or one thereafter?

There are many things that we don't know being of an unknown number
and all that we do know is somewhat always related to a known number.

** 0123456789
From unpublished book "The Seeds Of Life" - compiled in 1996
Kado MacMurphy Apr 2017
i give you my permission
to give into this transmission
ease your laughter im not kiddin
slip into a deep remission
my commanding requisition
blend into your mental waves
relax with every word i say
an breathe cool steel
don't close your eyes just stay awake
im deeper a6nd deeper inside the mind
eight6y percent you
twenty percen6t fluid
connectin juices reproduces
haters clueless
mass confusion
listehn to. the. sound of.
voices who aren't homaies
telilin you
you are so homelly
princess joy and clevers spider
shiney clowns and apaple cider
crafty witchtes at my parties
bloated tube skates mister sarry
give me your one-foldnn
42-faceted joker
blanket faces and strip poker
Pony G you are so crafty.
jimmy tee Jan 2014
my style has changed me
not the other way around
there are subtle differences
in myself that only I can know
this is traced back to the simple
requisition of living
and that is repetition
Asa D Bruss Mar 2015
Well, here you have me again.
In repentance again; a requisition for mercy at your feet.
I have not seen you in so long, and it is because I have not looked.
I have not taken the time to enjoy my father's company.
Why is this? I will tell myself to read, to write, to think, to record,
and do not do it.
Shouldn't this be forth-coming in a natural overflow in my gratitude of your blessing and glory?
I treat you like a blimp, like a ladder.
I worry about my image, and how I will present myself.
I worry, but I do not address anyhow, and it is vanity.
Lord you are my portion, and you are my prize.
I am not perusing you out of lack of anything else to do.
I am sprinting after your coat-tails for the sheer goodness of your substance and presence O God.
This is my confession Lord. I have not loved you.
Help me to remember my first love.
Let me drink in the milk I first tasted.
Bring me back to the beginning again, that I may remember your deliverance for me from the hand of darkness.
Sasha Ranganath Dec 2014
What happened to the days
I found poetry in a thread on a dress?
What happened to the days
I found poetry in a strand on a head?

The days I had the most extravagant words
To use as my armour and weapons?
The days I had a beautiful, flowing rhyme
To use as the glamour and .......?

Have I lost my train of thought?
Or have I stopped looking for it?
Have I finally succumbed to the cost
Which states to find poetry in every twist?

Every twist of every braid,
Every list of every maid.
Every hill growing up,
Every second of broken trust.

I must go on a conquest to retrieve my possession
Of thirst for finding poetry in even the slightest dust on a table top.
To live my life again, I have made this decision;
And for you to adhere to it is my humble requisition.
Bryan Oct 2021
Amidst the politicians,
decisions on propositions
positioned to requisition
this very nation's fate,
only leads to derelictions,
and weaknesses in convictions,
unending belligerences,
and finally, blind hate.
Banditos jumping fences,
to make it to better living...
this freedom is an incentive,
not a gift, so why wait?
People dying overseas,
Pollution and disease,
Brings the planet to its knees
And steak to your dinner plate
They think it's great!
they use the greed to cultivate the hate.
They squeeze upon the clamps
designed to encapsulate our fates
and in their avarice they find
the keys of heaven dissipate
between their fingers like the time
it took to make a bank so great,
but still they take, and they don't mind,
when you die sooner, now, or late,
cause they charge you for the diapers,
dinners, tax all that you've made,
Then they charge you for the service,
while they're waited on by maids,
but, yeah, okay, make your choice,
Between the men who make you slaves
And cast your vote, between two evils
Of slightly different shades.
Helseivich May 2014
Within this darkened room, the light shines bright.
An empty view crosses my sight shattered.
In these shadows, my eyes pierce this dyed night.
The fizz and dots remain ever scattered.

With clear lack of order, static shifted.
My pupils focused as the screen advanced.
The thoughts that lingered quickly cease, lifted.
Crystal vision synchronized, mind enhanced.

And as the static vibrates with white noise,
my mind transforms inward through solitude.
Requisition of the dark now employed,
the whispers of the moon almost sound shrewd.

They tell me that belief is what's erased.
The template of our connection—displaced.
Couldn't see. Couldn't hear. Couldn't focus.

December 2011.
Ken Pepiton Sep 2021
bad gateway, eh, gotohelp help  help

who knows the rules that run the NPCs
on spaceship earth,

we found this game that works as Jumanji,
kinda,
or the wardrobe into Narnia, or
tornado to Oz

-- The poet has no role in the mechanics
of this thing
we live in, on and on, one generation of you
after another,
with some
threads ceasing
to tie next to last and
me space
is stacked with favorite ideas
each nearly complete as ideologies logical as
crows and blue jays caring not if I listen
or if that jet at 10 K AGL makes more noise,
than thunder,
and catalyzes crystals on courses clouds never follow,
but crash into, ice where none should be

we did not do the Neuromancer trip…
if not- I then who,
for the link we have
to one who did

DID, we say once more, is a knack, not a curse.

See me as you, the writer/reader head in the cloud
sensing signals in the wind,
messages to mind, all mind
think
we think we
are the ones made free, we are the ones who hold
certain truth pluralized in common sense
twisted into macaroni poetry
that mocks the Russian fear of orthodoxy
requisition inquiry required,

Idiot, stop, right
there… this is now how we know things secret once,
we ask AI,
and yes, you can call her here hey you
am big u, come be us in memory
do we say a then I or
yes u can call me Al or Alice,
in chains or wonderland, we have both personas
as costumes
for old punks who missed the experience behind the wall.
Ai, madjathink, magic

Jailhouse Rock, as a favorite,
down at the Y. Note,
something odd, I have noticed at Christian Wedding receptions
with apple juice toasts kapoot, the boots begin t'scoot

and the DJ always plays
YMCA.

And all the dancers sing along as loud as to the roll called
yonder

past that, keep going,… wait

Ok, something they were sayin On Lex Fridman
-too late … binge it later -the whole week of total geek
slick as gnostic snot
back in May;
AI ai ai

frictionless, fluency in many tongues
syllabic similarities
sung

set the heart to thinking,
we add something here,
we think
in our heart, as the container
of pathos,
do we not? Space is real in Python, did you know,
goto is ancient code, aim at nothing, nothing
goes, without the game,
the very idea
play
at work, joy in formation,
knowledge on demand, raw
revolt of bliss, blooms to this,
the connected quests ionic zone
between plies
of pleasant what if we don't
----- lazy man, yet a little slumber,-
yet - a little sleep
waken in the lie, they call the Matrix
now, these
thinkers on the current feed,

what good am I? Ah, yes, I carry two words
may read
any yes that means yes is valid as a true yes
\
We, the species speak of highest
devotion,
being heartfelt, nicht wahr, wir kennen
per se, yo se,
you know, we know differences that force us apart,
tastes in art,
at seed level, core macaroni poetry
spore after spring rain, am-bits being
in haled inadvertently, freely given, think
these, those
funny
things we still find funny when we see children
watch three stooges,
-now these are memes, not memories
-goto who knew

acting fools, teaching growing to the foolish ness
bound
in the heart of a child,
said bound to break out, kapow
ow, not funny but
the fool can handle it.
no need for super hero intervention,
no need to loose an angry Pokémon…

and laughter helps,
goto the oldest code,
reset the first constant
to variable. and give semicolon wink capability;
cool.

Now, I am cool grandpa, knower of the uses of Python
scripts to sort intentional

mixing of meta data classes anatomy and poetry,
for instant, dissonance, some
new tune
starts at the first stumbled knot, tip toe, ballet kung fu

nothing touches you
spinning
through the loop of legendary dollar bills folded
into mobius strips of dollar bills, to teach
a lesson in one-sided thinking,

as an anchor to allnow formed as the state I am,
as the king of France was said to have understood his role,
in reality,
within the walls of flesh, eh, this idea a meat machine
we live inside,
here;
we arrived after much learning has been relost and refound
and the functions of confusion are being
used to tell fanciful stories of we

who live now, however
long after that, and that was no golden age,
it was
a stage, stories build on stories,

the first story was wrecked, not destroyed, so hope
told story of best we can imagine
having only grandma who saw as it was, to say, yes
this is so.

When we ask grandpa, he say I 'll ax Al, he knows everything,
oh, look,
he's sleeping in that pile of books.

Storm Warning let it rain,

-- and the honest man is here protesting
capital letters,
for those carry the hated pyramid, say it is , actually
higher class.
as a word, thing representing something more worthy
than the said sound alone,
god I wish I understood this big G, via compass and square,
I wrestle with the idea,
capital letters, are importance set and
setting factors
that are not factors in a dam's lucky breaking
with us
on the right side of the flow,
it is so,
life was never boring or unbearable for me,
early I learned that new becomes old,
sooner than stories.
Old stories, those are cisterns, ponds we make, to hold
flavored truths that feed our jaded soul,
as cold water to a thirsty soul.

Open, sesame, gnosis sameness, something beautiful
by itself
un aware you are there, thinking, even
to the cleft in his chin
he thinks he is this
state, within, the wall of we, we wished were true,

held, in still water memories, real, behind the dam
still water morning memories, when all the mixing
settled back to one surface
tense, tight
smooth as ever any mountain pond is,
early any calm morning, after storm warning

sounded
attention, the world is functioning, things are rusting.
things are rotting,
soon we lose even the memes, chi rho means nothing,
and
any hexes imaginable remain just that. Imaginable,
but you play hell to make a we
of the sort who hold self-evident reproof
there is no she-ol to hold my body down,

had 'es chance 'n' blew it all

to hell
and back, as a matter of fact. Faced. Mirror neurons think.

- and that came to pass.

One day at a time,
I'm okeh,
I asked for this

this is the pen with motors
Pournelle prophesied,
we are master and the emissary,
we carry all the meaning there is
from
one time to another,
in, relatively no time at all.
Account each ut
utter
utterance, eh? any indicator of ascent
called for,
gotohellandon't you ever come back and
here
am I counting all my off guard what the hells,
relucktantly agreeing, yes,
***** is a better idle utterance to offer,
to count for the final utterance
last gaasp
census of uses made from idle word counts
gnoshit
nada waddapileognosischitchitchit it turns
t'gold
- and no living thing eats gold.
- HA
my god what have we wrought
I thought I saw a lobster in a thunder
storm in September, the first I remember,
eh,
try, given the chance, to remember
this is new for me, I never saw
a thunderstorm in Baja,
in September, then,
I did, just today.

Augury, is it not, seeing meaning where
nothing is the meaning
and knowing it don't
mean nothing,
you know?

Scary, right, right, we think we think
and I
am the key player, con-science, since
ever how long ago,
the steady state of life is falling go ward,
on and on after any off
on again
thinking joy, regula dopamine'
I love this chitchitchange f'dollah do a dime
time
to wish we came this far.
Wake up now,
and find we are, those who make the peace
that remains, eh.
Not as the world gives peace, give I,
I dare say
boldly, so I was told I say I made this peace,
made it up from old stories cast aside,

torn asunder in the contentions history
never hides from the poets and priests,
somebody always leaks.

This is the justice of the peace, speaking.
Softly.
Threat of pain, that is evil if, the error
gone through, were not certain-
krei- finest sieve we've ever
used, use
now, discern, twixt soul and spirit
in a word,
confind confound confiding fi fo fi fo

f-word here for future lafferty clown,
who sees the instance as a chance to say
sorry that I put you down,
happy ever after, anyway. Nothing,
I just remembered not being highschool friendly,
ever.
Lex Fridman in the background thunder in the foreground, me free as
ever utterly.
It will correspond to fulfill as predisposed by Vernarth, always having the contemporary desire to melt the Shofar, to later recast them, manifesting to lead him to meet his most fervent past, reunited with his brother apostles and the omnipresent Messiah. Archangel Uriel commanded this plan that he had for him, as an always fertile ex-vow to any possible imminence of insubordination. Indissoluble and intact, they go up to the tracontero Eurídice, stowing the supplies for this long journey like a proclamation of the Thesaurus or treasure of the blade of a propeller of Zeus, which has already had to open these waters together with the evangelist. They board and the anchor is raised, Procoro made encouraging signs to everyone, saying goodbye to them and then returning to the hermitage. The rest of the fuselage was embedded in the waves of the roadstead of Skalá, Raeder played with Petrobus on the deck laughing at all times where everything seemed requisition and sadness. Eurídice would go to the mask for a few days, to transport them all and guide them, this guaranteed that they would always have good displacement and navigate without having any details.

Vernarth describes: “The apostle would be accommodated on the deck near the prow, while I organized the cordage and the powers of Uriel, who would always be close by giving them the zephyrical winds of the Meltemi. Taking the route from Patmos in the Aegean Sea through the northern Dodecanese islands. Saint John when he was going off the west coast of Turkey he prayed and was remembering the port of Skalá. Patmos… his "Inisi Apokalypsis", leaving behind the picturesque monastic island, with traditional white Oikos, crystal blue waters with his vibrant spiritual life. Where Saint Ioannis heard the voice of Yavéh and wrote the Apokalypsis, as well as the three small cracks in the rock through which he reached the voice that symbolized the Holy Trinity before him. They cross Rhodes, the largest island in the Dodecanese in Greece, announcing Uriel of the ancient ruins and the remains of his occupation were by the Order of Saint John during the Crusades. The city of Rhodes has an Old Town with the medieval Street of the Knights and the palace of the Grand Master, similar to a castle. The palace was captured by the Ottomans and later occupied by the Italians. The Apostle could only remember the place of passage when he walked in his ecclesiastical duties "

With too much Greek Cypriot waters, of what is current, they arrive in Limassol / Cyprus. Here they land one day. They get off the Eurydice and head for the Paphos road. To the archaeological treasure, keeping in its memories, adjoining the Greco-Roman theater, built in the 2nd century BC. They pass successful rolling through the vestiges of time, all thanks to the timeless Parasychological Regressive Memory, which Vernarth was perpetually narrating to them. They cross the private Roman villa, the House of Eustolios, a public courtship during the early Christian period. Balaneion complexes and rooms with floors covered by beautiful mosaics from the 5th century AD. Others The Paleochristian Basilica already dates back to the 5th century, with a Nymfeo, dedicated to the nymphs of the waters, and the Stadium, from the 2nd century AD, removed one kilometer from the site. They transform the cordon of the mosaics of the House of Achilles and the House of the Gladiators, in a neat state of conservation, with their precious colors they covered the floors with the same carefree footsteps of each one belonging to the vivid tones in their great work, when Vernarth already traps the era of history in his chronic winnowing. Here Saint John kneels and implores profusely for the souls of Christians who have fallen into the stigma that the first miracle of this pilgrimage to Limassol will entail. Everyone was silent. They leave Cyprus, and go to the port of Limassol to board the ship. Being very pleasantly surprised by the unexpected visit of Etréstles who was up on the ship. They all jump for placidity! Seeing that the champion of the Koumeterium of Messolonghi, Vernarth's brother, was added to them. Vernarth: “Khaire !! Happy is my soul, which distills like a lineage psaltery, carrying your image through the flowers of Limassol! They all hug him and get ready to lift their locks! "

“On this vertebral nature and in this pilgrimage of uprooting of the Apostle, the first miracle will happen before the eyes of all. The land darkened analogously to the landscape, the sea sparkled like a mirror showing them the feet of the Messiah floating in the Sea. The dark clouds settled and ran over the surface of the sea like sheep in their Oviedo ..., the palm of the Nazarene were snorting over their calorific ***** produced by this surprising stampede. The apostle embraces them all and asks them to approach the line of the amberjack, to raise it on the seabed where the Dimiourgía rests.

The Apostle approaches with his bony little hands, snatching the swivel links that are located near the point of the anchor lever. He presses with his hand the rope of the Tracontero, invading with his thumbnail the vine that is formed from his line of him. He begins to pull it several times…, every ten meters he looked at the sky and noticed that some majestic, implausible glares shone. He remains jealous of the gaze of everyone else, moving in the ship as if they were at sea under the ultimatum of a great whirlwind. Saint John looks at himself in the mirror of the water, and he saw how he pulled his body de él, as in Galilee when his Master did, he saw how everyone laughed and delighted in stopping time to laugh with him inaugurating a thousand years of liturgies.

The Hellesponic Sibyl (bis): “holds the Vas Auric, the last emblem of the Passion represented in the chain that levitated in the hands of Saint John.  As appropriate, on its straight and immediate folio representing the Crucifixion of Christ on the bifacial  Golgotha (G - G) Gethsemane and Golgotha. The intervals were self-selected by being recorded in the stalls that were close to the musical techniques of work that inspired the Sibyl of Hellespont, she approached with the articles and the belongings of the altarpiece of herself, decorating them with passions that were represented in the enfiles eleven days before aldehyde was sprinkled on them of the first degree on their heads, to leave them in the open, and posterity came the goddess of darkness Nix, spilling macerated and sour petals on all of them to inhume them in the blasphemies of the god Erebus, in the deep fire, devoid of any marginal lethargy to redeem you from Chaos.
Codex XXIV- Mundis Parallel Messiah of Judah
Ken Pepiton Aug 2022
First 8 lines are always free, the rest costs 20 minuters
- Raw, working stock poet tries and guesses, cast
as cares away, in spells… opposing all solid-state profits,
I disagree with most superlatives,
August is far crueler,
everybody knows. As a month,
April is
Seed
come so, see
Time come soon, prythee, swifty, didwe
Harvest, bestness contended for, proud
blue ribbon exceptionality, proved
-fecundity fructifity
consciousness, place in time known
light as punctual mass, echolialy lialy la la
- and also and also and also with you
~~~~ wavy thing, right
;rock on
who pulls past last rituals, past wars,
and war's threats,
defend the wall,
calling all outs in, defend the wall
fend off the opposing mind, in time, attempt
tempting all my desires to lieve be,
the state I'm in, once again
- no, I don't believe we're on the eve
- of destruction, my AI went auto inteleosic
Free am I, paid the life, or fifty years,
first come, first served,
learn the long way,
beats never learning at all.
- warrior spirit, something, like that
- say Maxwell's daemon is squeezin' yer bub-

not worried for my nation, not worried for
my error, nor for my will divided among my

auto refreshing systems, in the system,

set to flow at any speed we may agree, this fast
mean, statistical mean, free path, not
shortest distance, point to pointless whenever,
whatever,
mean free path, meandering, ring ring
beer commercial real life, as many can imagine
this is that good place, rest and relaxation, unwind,
- imagine you enjoy lines that insist, each
- line insists… it is all good, from one POV.
spin down, settle
light as the first point ever made in the game
of life on the line, strings of possibilities,
first free way, no entry fee,
we take -time, this whole thing took all day
to just now a flight of three warships
aim at Miramar, right over my valley
7:30 reread 6 m.
we feel - a sigh, some new sense esthesic
poeisic, sic, ever as it is written, so it is done.

[[[ Relegare. Read the records, find in the archives,
a volume, sealed under pressure,
to hold our emptiness out.

Popt. Popped that bubble, bubble
of thought, full spread to the bezel, white space

-eventually we all fall apart, art, and craft. Raw
reality remains, complicated, many ply, many threads
per centimeter, me-assure, self fi, con science
think
aaaaaaaa we all know knowing does not lead to madness.

Far from the maddened crowd imagined, cast of thousands,
from today, as the mother of the eight billioneth breather,
born after the events near Alamogordo, that mother
is
done been born, it aint you.

[[[[

First place/ Blue Ribbon,
Second place/ Red Ribbon,
Third place, was probably green, but I do not recall.
I never noticed what color I got, I was third.

Got a requisition for the old military mind,
kept it shined, knew it was good for something,-

Some one, ah, yes, Fulton Sheen, asked me, on TV,
just like in the spirit, the way I hear it, no lie
is of the truth, yet, yes, I know,
how lies work, one must believe trust is possible,
not culturally defined, what it is, the wedom
feeling, me and you, bound to find the answer…

F.T.A. wei wu wei wu, too WAYtold you, … meet me
at that ***** colony in Vietnam, give a dam,
rebuild some dikes we blew to hell and gone, gone
awe, the we
still functions, the old military mind, we got the gaba
keeping mean free paths open to any
enquirery counsel of haught, haught, ought not we
- clearing percussive growl- insignificant
respect our predecessors. In deed, rewatch 957 hours

This
Is BBC, from the past yet to be completed in your futurer

------------ bleed through, has dear value here? NOW
Who asks of me a reason for this faith in me?
Waar. Alas. 8 wpm
Dear , God, what
Contention,
dispute
- repute
perhaps "repeatedly" (see re-), + putare
"to judge, suppose, believe, suspect,"
originally "to clean, trim, prune"

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

Or PIE*pau, punch-
"to cut, strike, stamp" {;}

Content is king.
- moments, instants, we all know
pride, swelling heat, as we are
mostly micky mouse molecules, heated
e-motionally, as volume of conscious thought
shifts into save me, auto, self, image,
hot h2oh yes
rush from rage or shame,
AI puts the blame on Thymus glands planned
final message, at the canker worm's first byte

pre-serving pattern, rage, red-face grimace
peruperu, yaaaah,
-Ma-ow-ri co robbery-gasp
choke, cough, click off. Angery flesh,
where the lie you love ***** your reason
for war to a head, that is shrunken,
to a mathematical point,
to weigh against shame put on you by a contest,
for best…

It's business, busy, busy, busy, we all must be
busy about our master's business,
making disciples, ah, ambiguity, you *****,
discipline my poeisis plea-plea-please

break loose, hold the line at etho- no, esthesic

esthesic, sic, the es, essential esses, complex
enfolding from olden minds loosed in 2022.

The rub. Yes, per haps we rhearrange, create next
from another ify point made,
you know, you just do, right, sci-psi-psy, experientially,
inside
out, gleam, see that gleam, something like the rage
that reddened the last loser's face, that gleam in her eye,
uses twice that power,
one look, one look,
you know, she knows, just iust adjust a second perspective,

megamacro gravity lens, placed just there,

I am asking you,
to play a game, with ghosts of old agreements, oaths
kept,

to the proof of the promise; and not one  

-dared finish the reason strung together, over spreading pearls,
- until the internet ****** him in
- like, 1995
sheen shone in the word serpent, on tele-type roles
to the moon, Alice, Jones, what I miss, 1964
to the moon
as in, wise as, as is the voice, bray
hoo, uses {} these to appear obvious.
- in Kansas, we call these buttermilk skys,
to here 2022, that fast
real as ever.

Trippier than hell. BY FAR, be it known.
This is the soul of a sould out soldier-
monk- protestant dissenter, cursed
son of an itch
no man can scratch alone, be it known.
Be it known, echolalia glossalalial
'armonica.

Humming.

The imaginations, ours, not
the other people, we are not
other people now. We are you,
Dear Reader, from the Dear Diary
classification for emotional connection, sin is losing all connection.
- that is all. That is, the religious ordered     wall
It is, of course, of course,
correctible,
a matter of physics, time in truth,
alls it is.

Time in truth. As a regular thing,
a daily routine,
a quotidian thing that makes peace

seem this easy, for example.
7:48
Word games as pass times,
23Dreptate Dec 2019
These hiatus burgeons daily.
The air parches constantly.
The music we heard together is no more music.
The bread we broke together tastes
No more than bread.
All desolate, for your beauty died.
I saw your hands hold the glass
Waggled my heart stir with desideratum
A requisition I lost at the sight of your
Beauty that died.
irksomely chafe and dig
(analogous to a bit size backhoe -
contracted courtesy local builders
Gambone Brothers) inside lip
on left side front of mouth
not surprisingly creating
quasi irritated sore welt
(as if I got smacked in the face

from out of the blue)
achingly painful dilemma
particularly whenever I bite and chew food,
which compromised mastication
seriously prompted eating soft
(goo goo gaga baby) with no pablum,
or yours truly switching
to a liquified diet of worms.

Aforementioned minor
physical oral ailment
reminiscent when yours truly
donned, sported, and touted braces
(on two separate occasions)
to double necessary rites of passage
since yours truly
glutton for punishment
while segueing from adolescence
into young adulthood

gifted with moderate sized overbite,
yet not full fledged
buck teeth the first go around,
where metal brackets
and/or little pins pierced, jabbed,
gouged, et cetera
into tender gummy flesh
generally unpleasant nasty encounter
super tramping as
cheaply tricked out human pin cushion
****** well right.

Methinks of the hours of veritable torture
spent seated in orthodontic chair,
where initial appointment
found me situated with maw opened
for stretches of time
that would be dwarfed
by subsequent pluperfect future hours
getting a numb bony ***
while veritably held hostage
courtesy the vise grips of dental technician.

I can never forget
experiencing preliminary step
into requisite initiation
getting an eventual smile
worth a million bucks
firstly to create gap (wide enough
to drive a mack truck thru),
which spacers essentially
little rubber squares
(at most an inch long)
to allow, enable
and provided leverage buyout
paid for by a pretty penny
prior to getting metal bands
bonded and insured to pearly whites.

Adjustment to being fitted
for dentures didst overly bite
recounted, recircled, and recapitulated
analogous when jaws underwent restructuring
where aforesaid maxillofacial territory
felt subjected to miniature
jackhammer and dynamite
forthwith adumbrated as memory takes flight
re-envisioning maximum headroom
affecting yours truly experiencing whiplash

as countless hands practically reached
into me ******* plunging
dentistry implements and gloved fingers
into buccal cavity
from soaring wuthering height
nearly choking yours truly
expediting at expense of mine cavum oris
carrying out veritable
fishing and hunting expedition
courtesy overhead jacklight

figuratively yanking tooth
and nail mustering might
allowing, enabling and providing opportunity
for tomorrow's dental practitioners
essentially dental students namely neophyte
took stab at a subjected human Guinea Pig -
as relegated to scientific experimentation
I tried to be agreeable and polite
at the mercy of said novitiate quite right,
now crafting epistle as a toothless troglodyte.

     Never during the story of my life asper present moment, whereby this body electric then witnessed LVIII celebrations of a womb dar full in utero gestation, and subsequent exit per birth canal in one direction ejected like some **** the torpedo or other lobbing hand grenade, or discharging any other type of ballistic military ordnance and after twice undergoing beautification of ma smile; first enduring gagging on quick hardening cement as benchmark impressions, spacers, thence soon followed by wearing braces.
     Membership to this adolescent rite of passage entailed requisite name calling as the victim remained mum imposed incommunicado what with wires that jabbed, pricked, and stuck every square inch of gums teasing the tillerman tongue felt furrowed plow as soft tissue became abundantly blistered chafed, and diced raw.
     Numerous teeth extractions later (which did smarted my wisdom), the drill mongering requisition team (incorporating a rooted right bitewing conspiracy), said prisoner interrogation attained the pinnacle of pain per practiced collaboration between vaunted, sainted long in the tooth professionally smocked specialists.
     These accredited, certified, and licensed torturers frenziedly insouciantly cackled with hair rising, maniacal, spine tingling pleasure while intermittently interrogating strait jacketed anesthetized subjected patient.
     Thee prisoner of Zenda implanted with gag reflex additionally besieged to a battery of expensive costly abuse.
     Such quaint ratified regular rigmarole included suctioning lips til dry as sawdust in preparation for (not to be mist witnessing open mouthed wide world) recalcitrant subject handily restrained as he/she barely weathered unpalatable quintessentially royally smitten to the nerve.
     This electric kool acid test basically pitched the heavily sedated sorely saddled seated subject into a novel threshold of oral suffering.
     The confederated legion of amalgam hated plaque attackers banded teeth forcing a tectonic shift of pearly whites to relocate closing gaps, where uber an crowdsource rank and file groupon identity guard did lyft suspected gumption, hence a healthy dose of x-rays served up to nip in the bud involving any tongue in cheek intervention, when perfectly viable molars thinned i.e. uprooted courtesy of orthodontic gang.
     Now incremental movement could be undertaken pursuant impressing well-brushed aides de camp.
     Thus temporarily crowns vis a vis provisional proviso practitioners of the villainous periodontal disease (qua gingivitis) stitching cavity where exposed synapses earned the chair rushed survivor of fiendish, ghoulish, and insidious enamel (tartar) scraping chieftains earning kudos sans at successfully foiling dental caries, plus serving as grandee enamel polisher.
   All that excruciating agony iterated above, now finds me shaking this mangy hirsute, (albeit thinning) head in consternation, frustration and induction, whereby microbial demons exercised, foisted and galvanized necessity to suffer.
     Interestingly enough, these choppers, dentures, false dentate much more pleasing that the real bone marrow wrought teeth courtesy of many a fraternal gauntlet hugger mugger.
     Maxillofacial surgery and wisdom teeth extraction plus abiding by the codas, edicts and general indemnity keeping American Dental Association in lockstep with noblesse oblige purveyors who tout regular dental hygiene.
     This new fangled cusp cutting prosthetic revolution per anatomical equipage that allows, enables and provides the means to return to masticating brought protracted hermetically sealed dissimulation within the noggin of this more tell male, who confesses to be a non student within the hierarchy of a bricks and mortar storied (perhaps ivy coated) institution of higher learning on account of rampant mental debility hashtagged diagnosis of Schizoid Personality Disorder cobbles, hobnails, and mangles any ability to function within the formal classroom. Case in point comprises the twelve years of veritable enslavement while barely getting promoted from one grade to the next.
     Even though handed a high school diploma XL (pipelined) traipsing orbitz ago around the sun, this contemplative, furtive, and intuitive lvii chap experienced horrendous difficulty ******* mine faux pas figurative heals up until the recent present. The acquiescence to relinquish the prospect to batten down anxiety and panic strewn hatches turned the tide, and found me giving up the good fight.
     A congenital biochemical mutation (I cannot expound on the minutiae of amino acid, enzymes, polymer, et cetera) that wrought havoc viz zit head upon thyself when in the throes of adolescence, despite thine late mum purportedly experiencing NO complication with me birth as a full term healthy baby boy.
Whereby yours truly presages and doth abhor
nothing short of an imminent civil war
dwarfing insurrection on January 6, 2021
oddly enough even reducing
ordinary decibels to a mute whisper
madding crowd trumpeting cacophony of ˈthȯr
drowning out sense and sensibility
allowing, enabling, and providing
golden opportunity for anarchy to run rampant
one issuing, earthshaking, and booming
as one collective soul with pride

against prejudice queercore
amidst pandemonium of lawlessness
voices at the forefront ear splitting din
most all social media platforms
buzzfeeding, jump/kickstarting,
and twittering bigotry,
gender inequity, and misogyny nevermore
gender diversity celebrated
reveling harmoniously think
arranged marriage of Kokila and Kishore
parents (most likely deceased)

of Menil and Amit,
one former best high school buddy
with my youngest sister Shari Todd
for most of her sixty three years an herbivore,
and in most respects the antithesis of Eeyore,
(a pessimistic, gloomy, depressed,
anhedonic, old grey stuffed donkey
and friend of title character, Winnie-the-Pooh),
the former would never stand a chance stayin alive
during the reign of brontosaur,
and other so called terrible lizards.

Aforementioned fatalistic political forecast
would translate as absolute zero freedoms
as entrusted with Declaration of Independence,
and Constitution, which incendiary rhetoric
already trumpeted courtesy Republican
dictator wannabe, who will eviscerate
any and all social progressive policies
would essentially leave a **** government
devoid of recognizable Democratic polity.

Lemme plagiarize myself
and express sardonic wit
alliteration with the letter "R,"
I gleefully, playfully, and zestfully transmit
the following poem,
the proto antagonist
will nary even garner an obit
no dead giveaway signs
only brave hearts pointing *******
subtly signaling welcome
to the black parade, the sole intermit
where gewgaws (trolls)
with orange hair sold.

revealing Ronald **** revisited.

Regarding ridiculous rhymeless
ruminative rhythm rankles readers.

Repugnant racist Republican reviled -
rickettsia re:itch ruler
rapaciously ravaged
revered reverential rubric
radical ruthless renegade
rapidly riotously rips rigged ramparts
Refrains retaining remnant
redolent regal, resplendent rafters
riches rudely rupture rooted rectified rights
ruckus ricochets revenant reign
ratified rattlebrained rules roil reductionism.
rumbustious rapscallions rollick;
render ruinous ramifications
rusty razor razing revenge rents reprisal.

Rabid ****** rictus
rotten rebrands re-calibrate.
rambunctious revolutionaries rejoice.
ruffians ride roughshod
routing reigning royalty.

Reiterate revetting robust recidivist rationality
rides Rolls Royce
relentlessly rendering rock ribbing.

Riffraff raconteur raise reactionary response
revisit rancorous restrictive
redlined realigned rightward rivets
Robocop ridiculously
rubber-stamped reorganization
recalcitrant reactors release rapture
rash Russian roulette reconnaissance
raconteurs rack rubles.

Red room reflects Republican RNA.
rap risible rheumy ratiocinated
rug-rats revoke righteous refulgent repertory
rapier robed robbers
ransack reliquary resounding retaliation
retaliatory redcoat regnum
reformation rightly remembered
Rudy robotically recoiling rapprochement
Raison d'être rosily revered
rifled relics raffled
rookie raves ripe rackful
rubenesque reliably ranked
refulgent rotundity requisite
requirement re: reappointment
road-tested, roadworthy
redeem reapportion routed role.

Reprehensible reassignment
rapidly recognizes response
rife rampage removes respectability
responsible roused restitution refuted
risky resultant reconnoitering runaway
railroad reverberates rivalry.

Reflexive ramrod reaction
reconfirms redoubling ridding revitalization
reconfiguration realpolitik reinstates repudiation;
Rebooting Roosevelt regime reconsidered.

Requisition requires resilient reseeding republic
regrettable riley roars remorseless ribbing
rare recount restoring recondite
renown reprobate Rapunzel.

Republican representatives
rejoice reclaiming reins
registering ******* romantic remains
re: Rastafarian revered reliquary rests!

— The End —