Man life know just set eyes way like young world soul day hunger space mouth earth thoughts ignorance blind things mind knew final moment human creation kind creatures souls high forgotten dream love spoke self existence face holy deep bound think home void say surrender ear forever called held ephemeral red state end shall heed hope edge living waking fall sea wake garden need February thought past wanderer got men page colored tepid terrible **** proudly untitled features point painted faceless box forgot render wild spring splendor  handfuls looking half brain lost torn ancestral  unseen vision inner summer honor mister owned banner save today fear groans wasn't smoke  street fable strange year contrast black years  able pain body spoken word known motion  palpitate reeling nature culture disclaimers  cancer beg attentive frames ****** base profound double remember wholly finger death token  cries continue folk oh fishing form broken true  divides spread ah twas away breathe wait warning hallowed wish closer lens turn eye live  constant current author hung theory dangle  bramble chemical new force changes adderall  anymore giving beneath possess pardon commentaries eternity internal walk reason  long change does idea glimpse consciousness  wandering simply wonder physical dreams war  sleep told rest benign prior begging truth little  2012 born tale crow bowels allegory animal rule  exasperate making horse curse hands ones read  rearrange capture doing command fail awake  aperture seedlings shift steely sir nap spead ****** demons slits clever telling loud spits la-la-di-dah killing slip game reflected nameless ask  lovers rabid bear salivate plunder shameless  famously savior mint rides menthol bully fate traded melodies play misunderstand mammals gentle witless fine utterly savage silt tongue-less  dirt dilutes pure non-sensory taste briefly ravage dismember it''ll shedding ruined curtain  knots offers plot fulfills munificent two-act  relegates boxz bug altruistic wintergreen tossing  callously guise grovels one's singers treachery ashes mid-life mutter fashion parading  ambiguity separatist liars staple steeping neath  guidelines scoffing stitch moans civil wrote  Fictitious undoing fables table effigies serve  sonnets staged remark psalm swoll praise harken  beggar verse bread lines heavily electricity detection snow sack-happy preaching credit  spotted wicked best gravity gun campaign owe  barge choir revelry celebratory satiated sinking  headline pack hound persistently propaganda  gentlemen excluding diminished ******* run idles  occupied levies wolfishly honestly misinformation cuba vehemently dumb grace spectator erasing  toned sage crowded secrets inter-connectivity  loaned prayer hymns grave mistaken magnified  vandals selective jump leak escapes says minister  buckle mass honesty shut tar children's hats  monument doping long-lived electrical ladle  exaggerated cartoons address seconds cool cradle bleak yang's mind-framed hypnotic  walker caps folly treble claim streaks mixtures  swelled interstate elapse teasing spoon mobile  succulent witchcraft borderline fatal 99 temple stacks sups plastics creeps neurotic ills tossed  meek sipping old crack interlock wax alleyway  coughing blown freak clock birthdays societies  slow flashing viscous candy argument toothless  pills cerebral rapt wall bisect lives wheezing  photo kid starter foiled pair saturated self-castrating pre-packed naked uncertainly pill  used came chaos coated reprisal fells wrack  irreverent mirth sickly disinherited proudest  collate wheeze appearance palette disharmony  discontented bastardized emotive bio inhale diction beat spoiled reclamation loudest tempo  totally disembodied matte imperfect shells flat  struck sounding imparts flak origin severance remarked bone walls snared leaflets mocking  hot scripting adjective noun agape seemingly  resistant gawk calamity passage paintings wind  trashcans signings sits cheap makers poetry persist scrap slipping individual talk wonders  leaving questions fold actor fancy parchment  fates engenders flown jaws stripped longer music  sacrifice fakers book boldly frown sigh atop patient hang trade occupation blows spectacular  whispers worthy backward waving certainty danced suppose needn't ‘drawkcab’ second-guessing  boys forget marched motto heads tightly lies two-tone earthbound harp twice turns goodnight  lying ***** internally indiscriminate nickname  drunk convictions myth steep  in-consumption  fitting artist **** universal sick expressions bad  du spell melody big siphon proud learn sprawls song spastic something temperaments utter check  fissures stomp totality blend definitely thrall sing rug voice shade pestilence ties commiserate round devil steady brains emotional certain gate  suckling gates dearth decay weight bounce pound  carrier pangs glass startle contest earthen web  tug pressed air patience flush amassed guest gone apprehension staring empathize captain believe fading in-perceivable deathbed guarder makes surrounds scatter drooling ebb blink cob tome  venom near door lair derision draws host stairs scent parts curiosities spider webbing surprise wares tips stepping ascetics starkness realize picture surroundings dictations grand pillars  deaf limited comparisons greet visual residents  personal settings dismiss alien law stability common earthly shiftless places prelude  understanding mosaic keen trifling embodiments  geared inception whisper visible jowls kiss murky  puddle rank dawn dichotomy single faithful fraying pays tailor veil climb mores pence whim  breath wellspring samara god stony pear  shadows fruiting forebodes moonlit looming  shown passed bog gold wracked faint tongues  noble preachers mirror shifting layered depth  threads jungle narcissus bemused seamstress self-worshiping architect's wore slumber anomalous  opened barren seam lip caustic scene coupled brick gardener's clenches -with forms idle breed  embodied lore starving empathy design illusion  tree coat fabricate lucid mason scatter-all  narrative seeking imbued 16th shivering chemicals 17th 15thrisk improperly dare  deliberate plan purge try brought chapter speed  aide utmost spirit leading intervention felt  recall recent advent sincerity times diary  lackluster piously lasting happy holding hear  stem tasteless whimpers wet spine monstrosity  dripping causes position quite softly claws pallet  answer digging tearing beast satiating circle breaks skips redwoods beckoning rotted hushed  gray lapsing monoliths deities creborus  imbuement hand stroll paradigm rendered chorus shy whispering forest residual tension  surrenders tolerance lull anew sentenced  bearing tide birds dirge divergent rim joined  cogs wood hesitant mist emergent towering offer  awareness confinement inverted faultier stowed  plane sanctified blanketing trusting memory fossil flash twists laden self-indulgent fleeting invitation agony grip shore impetus lingering  crows promise gift union swallowing endless floor supposed ecstasy sensory intent  psychotropic cradling placement interned  jagged connectivity exchange congenial begun  summons singular spiral assumes ambient reciprocates re-entry fruition reached aggregate lifetime limbs birthed instinct  frightening tarry proper entire light  boundaries innocence pursuit ago discover left  youth's unknowing sacred time place meager  simple fact cast ceaseless wide-eyed literal  apparent coincidence create boldness morphed  crooked kempt mere stumble buried shutter fairy  pivotal definitive months worth shear ambition sound required journeyed self-reflections title  facets vague restless intimation gut wanderer's  leap motivate path account boy soon bears faith  question tripped reasons uproot awaited confronted days step heal provocations wisps crushing transcend chronicles instance  directness raw drove occurrence objective-less  real enters slightest confident nondescript  typify  foreshortened interment paradox bitter heart  devoid jeopardy angry sensation confidential guilty arrogance mercy compliance reprieve  vincent deadening factual sign emotion awe  inhibition shackled butterflies absence actual sciences acknowledgement violent stagnant  spiritual American doors roots lack matted fore  gestures society cause streams intensity hair impossible discord lonely hearts resounding  jest  what's flavored pains closed toxic contented  happenstance scientific knowledge yeah  wizardry shaking stifled withdrawn bloom  jitter dreads settle asocial hulton make  predisposed figurative reflections demeanors  wondered affect hulton's projected sense  morning industry arrays ghosts feeling  certainly endomorphic where's partially wrath  passer mornings jovial unease advertized asking  trash onward wished tempers media mentality connect pasts sharp-toothed scramble great colours trial test salvation continually lent  degree secretly subjection social waned  disconnected colors grimly intellectual civilization cash trading baffling particular  digest myths monumental ending seasons winter  repetition introducing agent everlasting  shoulders delivered honestly-- possession funny  continence history unsightly function suffering propulsion profession divulge familiar tugs era  importance capability perpetuation spite inventory words entirety leveling fray insight  date record continues writer getting evermore fellow tongue possessions identical proof accuracy education similar sack admittance  favor unravel conveyance guilt gives beginnings  predicting audacity definition bobby heady eaters frameless learned release stone grandeur sang  speak molds sleeps split built seats people folded  sheer pour evoked playhouse liquid boring  tellers frayed stark walked reality pleas doth  preformed shows beak pride squawks opinions  greatest bold stunning sightings he'd loudly slain  sunk watch legend precipice theater deeper compound commentator civility justly silly sin  reverent seen prophetic moral confounds notion  lacking explain attempt prolific viral estrange proclivity scorn hide blur pious strung eden's  horror cut skin arch cruel twig mother vile  pass lend woods peach shrunken trail man's canopy worn 434 eat warm limb familiar father delete.

You are what your reading lady. Now would you hold this gun?

Time is teasing along with lush earth so pleasing,
The minutes of our youth are spent in toiled days
And sands are blowing the weld of our sold means,
Foundations of dust, the cries unheard, of the aged.

And then, as dream, you came from the starry skies
Blue and small as the ocean dot, forever fixed—
Reigning over the frozen, revolving moon that lies,
Dimly wakes in your fabled orbit, my fated ellipse.

Now, time tables and splits, renders me to eaves
Undone, my squandered youth was but a sad play
And I am clocked with wind, the geld of my dreams,
Had shiftless hands been more solid than my days.

And gusts a wind that never sleeps
When at the pond arrives a breathless boy,
Knees kneel within the reeds and muck
To glimpse distorted carp beneath.
He counts his boundless hunter's luck
As shiftless as a seaweed wreath,
Then baits the wand that bears his angler's ploy,
And gusts discern he plays for keeps.
This boy roguish

As fish are coy.
And silent in the swaying deeps
The drifting dance of carps who dream and wish
Is ceased by ripples from a splash --
Refractions of the surface shake
As sinks an enigmatic flash:
Allure from realms beyond the lake.
The one that hungers proves the bravest fish,
And silent, at the lure he leaps.

Bravery

idle, shiftless, indolent
not a care in the world
a white oblivion
of simple, peaceful, blissful
nothing

looming, threatening, impending
charged with energy
electricity just
hours away
gray consciousness
and lazy days

hair-raising, spine-chilling, nerve-racking
strikes of pure shock
mother nature’s roars
reverberating off the blackened firmament
drops of liquid vigor
crashing to the ground

There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. Dorothy's Kansas never looked so comforting, her black and white world never so safe--never so flat, so barren.

Didn't she learn her lessons? She caused such trouble! She gave Auntie Emm such a fright! That bump on the head must have caused her brain damage. After the "big storm" was only a memory, and the terrible twister only a town tale, Dorothy did it again.

She ventured out on her own.

Yet Mrs. Gulch was still a witch. And Dorothy's "nasty, little dog" still got into the garden. The sheriff was ready to track her down and clamp down on her for good! Running home frantically for help, Dorothy realized that Auntie Emm was still too busy ******* at her shiftless farmhands, henpecking tired, old Uncle Henry,
and he was just too cranky to care. The farmhands were supposed to be her friends, but they just started crabbing at her again.

They soon gave her what for. "Dot, didn't you learn a thing in life?" "Didn't we rescue you once from a pigpen?" "That heart of yours leads you in the wrong direction! " "Where are your brains, anyway?"

Heartbroken, naive Dorothy realized something that was quite profound. Her heart was always in the right place--she just needed the courage, the courage to know she was smart enough to make it on her own. So Dorothy packed her bags, especially remembering her red ruby slippers. She would never forget her loyal friend and sidekick, her beloved pooch, Toto. If she was going, he was going with her.

So there she stood, suitcases in hand, in her bleak, little, colorless world. Terrified, she stood upon the precipice. Fear or faith? And all of a sudden she was noticed again! Just what was she doing? Who did she think she was fooling? Was she crazy!?

"You'll never make it!", they all warned. "You don't know the first thing about how to live in a Technicolor world!"

"Sorry, I do love you", Dorothy answered back. "But I disagree and I will forward you my new address". So off she went finding the path down the yellow brick road.

~~~


A rich woman
Walked down the street
She met a workman she didn't greet.

But though they didn't
Stop to TALK
They were able
To exchange THOUGHTS...

Hey! Look at me! I'm all that!
Think you're cool with that
baseball hat?

I'm in my designer clothes
I'm Dior from head to toe.

I have snakeskin shoes
And pure silk pants
My perfume comes
From Paris France...

Designer Bags and golden rings
Jeweled tiaras and a
Real mink coat?
What to do with such trivial things?
Except wallow in the
Superficial joy they bring...

Please. Humour me
With stacks of DOUGH
That's street lingo
For cash you know.

I'll sit here and strum my guitar
Whilst I look up
And count the stars...

Please... take your spoils and go...
I don't have time for spoiled souls
I'll enjoy the things that matter most
While you celebrate
charades and toast.

If life's a charade,
At least I'm a player!
You're sure not gonna
Run for Mayor!

C'mon DOUGH BOY
You know that you want
All the goodies that we flaunt!

Yes... I have a real MINK!
And my money has a STINK

But who supports
The people you are?
Why! You're nothing but
Shiftless POOR!

I ain't gotta pay
to play this game
I got a Full Heart I'm all IN!

You can't just buy
Yourself some PEACE
I've learned life lessons
To pay my lease!

Your whole life is inside your wallet
And I'm sorry... but I must call it...

Inside your soul is
bankrupt and foreclosed
It's sad to see happiness is posed

Shiftless, classless and
OUT OF STYLE
But your pretty golden pennies
Ain't worth my while...

You've got cash, but it's just CRASS
Lady. Take your fortunes and

KISS MY BOOTS!!!

WELL! I never!

The last thing she thought
As she hurried away.
She's filthy rich NOW...

... but one day she'll PAY.


(C) SoulSurvivor
(C) Frank Ruland


~~~

Six humans trapped by happenstance,
In bleak and bitter cold.
Each one possessed a stick of wood
Or so the story's told.

Their dying fire in need of logs,
The first man held his back.
For of the faces round the fire
He noticed one was black.

The next man looking 'cross the way
Saw one not of his church
And couldn't bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.

The third one sat in tattered clothes
He gave his coat a hitch,
Why should his log be put to use
To warm the idle rich?

The rich man just sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned
From the lazy, shiftless poor.

The black mans face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight.
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.

The last man of this forlorn group
Did nought except for gain
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game.

Their logs held tight in
death's still hands
Was proof of human sin,
They didn't die from the cold without
But died from the cold within.

I drive home, slowly.
The trees lining the road look the way I feel:
Ambivalent.

Some of the leaves are brilliant
Shining he way this amber ring does
And some have flat warm tones
Like the ochres the shaman, in his trance,
Brushed onto the walls
Building a miracle at Lascaux.

The dead ones
Lay still
Until a big rig barrels by
And they fly up in circles
And settle back where they began-
They're shiftless, no better than you or me.

Flippant polymaths exude the frippery of travail for lapsed inordinate surgical gains in temporal but temporary acclaim that owes its provenance to the gullarge accentuated by the guttural tempests of silent windfalls that wrestle with sharks and snarky cagamosis with pilfered fame without rulers for rules that own the profligacy of a cineaste game

We cannot surpass our talents with ease when the treecheese of inevitable distance between equipoise and insanity is a tantamount inanity of prolixity for the sake of freedom rather than servitude to the slow meandered steps of trudged verbigeration that needs to be exorcised from the seat of authority for the plodding inconvenience of time earned that shakes the listless yearning people who lie and spurn

Demagogues are trifles because they are anoegenetic and care not for the abligurition that consumes the energy of a dismal life lived on fringes rather than reaped with grimaces for binges that continue to absorb the painful pangs of twinges that hedonists are of interest

We cannot exorcise the demons that give stygian weight to exchequers beyond the gamut of money but rather the currency of velocity of thought that owes its weight to weightlessness of spaces between the spacious and the limited tract of isolative territory that many mendicants looking for sustenance travail in insolence and in perjury of their solemn duties for self-serious honesty they lack a vista to see their crimes as more than just a pettifoggery of disputatious wranglers that wrench and then contemn the objects of their moral scruples to contend with nothing but the vacant expanse of a limitless injury for a momentary slip of cultivation and countenance

Frippery is hard to cobble with lapidary wit because succinct grievances are fallow ground for the permanence of atrocity and the temperance of felicity to conform to the desiccated pathways of limpid but livid excoriations of willful ingenuity met with aleatory rambles that sprawl incalescence with words as a dying occupation that is resurrected from the abeyance of its pragmatic utility to distinguish class from crust.

The triadic fatuousness of snarky sharks recruiting the gullarge of paranoiacs to deputized alacrity lead many strident vocations astray as they pilfer the nullibiety of spectral ignorance and defy the gravitas of the primiparas of a swollen technocracy, an outrage that scarecrows with prevenance have adumbrated against with strident accelerations of sublime velocity

So we swim in perilous straits against the demiurge of inclemency in fated rittles for the turpitude of wraiths and engineer every aborning day a new foofaraw of unalloyed atrocity
Now more than never should be deployed to ensure that the castigation of scoundrels and guttersnipes that exert a rip tide to those stranded on the shores of littoral desiccation might find the pristine beachgoing public an amenable treat proffered by exorcised sheepishness in reiterative bleats that quarkswarm only the antinomy of sentient masteries by shoveled civilizations proctor to horological insistence in design

So we designated an abeyance of heydays to create a rippled nostalgia that creeps in the winter storms that singe even glabrous ignorance with the twinges in absentia of the regal crows that circle the sun as the sustenance of the alighted moon as we reach for the heaved Richter teeming with ablution for venial commination of prolix croons that exert a Palo Alto rhyme

Phenomenological fields distal to the cephalocaudal origination of limber and the ironic counterpoint to that strife in excess rather than dearth of the henchmen behind the exchequer showcase that fluid thoughts surpass the limits of the dentistry of cosmetic cosmology simultaneously a scientific boon but a coarse albatross

We are criminals in a world stranded by ****** apostasy because of the sincerity of minstrels meets plodding human ignorance as exemplars rather than the apotheosis of divine excoriation of wastrels and flattybouches who webdoodle their way into the extinction line in some computer file swiped from eccedentesiasts who often in uncouth barbarity forgetfully abide without the temperance of floss

So what are we to make of magisterial wits of wiseacres who pilot tenable objectives like Indiana Jones flexing his comical whip when the gunfire of cacophony inundates our ears with a lisp of cockalorum imposture rich in chewing tobacco and its ungainly gripes and tenacious grip

Should we seek salvation from the treecheese of arboreous terrain amenable to the newfangled windfall of agricultural whims that dare now with caprice but not quixotic disdain to reconfigure the parsimonious levered engagement of melliferous fungible transaction between sabbaticals and chief financiers dubbing the vociferous limn of the primeval fulgurant incandescent ethereal quips?

We strive for palaces issued with dimes, dozens and scores of retinues that retain the patina of sophistry as the gullarge makes the vangermytes cozy in their defensively mechanized citadel buffered against the unheralded malversations of mammon intersecting with primordial chemistry that give the philanderer a guise of philanthropy despite professed gainsay that perjures because hucksters are winsome with fiduciary risk

So we calumniate with lapsed puns and Potter’s Spells as we dredge the indemnity of bustling heydays that extend beyond the bailiwick stated because of the prolonged trace of nostalgia that frazzles our voluntary expeditions with misanthropy as each libertine instinct becomes subject to stop and frisk

How to balk at such a garrulous repartee as proffered by swanky intransigence that shakes it off in a quaky town that hates the Swift refrain that endangers the fatalism of recuperated foresight borrowed from the armamentarium of corrupted killjoys who swim in a dalliance with the itchy myths that drift from powerlessness to voguish debauchery of insouciant internecine fringes frayed by the tomes that decry Stygian drift

Shiftless and rooted in rintinole absolved by plackiques that enchant the voyeurism of repined squalor of industrious frippery deracinated from the aureate complicity of largesse calibrated to mobilize the skittish mercurial yuppies to a dance with divestiture, taxes and an earthen death, we sprint the evergreen mile toward the scrupulous invention of enthusiastic euphemisms arbitrated by the procrustean silt of the leaky faucet of enigmatic timelessness etched by chiselers to beat “Us and Them” and warn the vanguard of the front rank about the thespian rift

Exhaustive rescue squads prepared for the dearth of monetary heft in times of perilous drought denigrate the authors of famine to the indulgent parents of inordinate sabotage of narrative for riskless arbitrage that is the outrage of sciamachies between platonic indifference and the tantrums of the feckless in the dangerous hearth of the cavernous wilderness of limitless imaginations that stagger so far beyond orbit they become satellites to vagrancy and whittled paragons too distant to dissolve in the ethereal chemistry of incalescent uproar sadly flanged by the Dopplers of ephemeral fate

Squandered by the desuetude of a snarky intervention I issue invective at the proctors of deafferented limbs for barbarous swine meeting expediency in demise, bemoaning the placid distaste of rectified cries that issue candles for each acrimony beyond the permutation of the staid inflexible limit of 88’

Bashfully we careen through argosies of curiosity to fossick the stalactites of timeworn intuition and reckon with their converse ironies that drip faucets of mildew that remain hidden unless poked by plucky flashlights to inspect the paragon of erosive filigrees of a bewildering paradox of polarized design that one meets the ceiling at inception and the cousin strives to clamber empty space to know with faint certainty the bulldozed irony of superordinate coexistence

Now we return to the majesty of a spurned wiseacre that evades the snappy parlance of a wrenched friction between the physical and the metaphysical elements that constitute a commensurate reality so supernal that its ostentation creates lifetimes of reiterative growth that spawns crimson red and bloviated blues to find a fulcrum of balance between the malversation on one hand of criminal sinister machinations and on the other hand the execrable self-righteous ignorance of a hidden vehicles of dexterity that are subsumed by a subtlety of legislative graft that owes its forbearance to the sanctimony of perseveration without the laurels of persistence

Now we wed the concepts between the ambidexterity of a monolithic titan who wanes rather than waxes himself because his glabrous head already exposed requires nothing new because the empire that struck back is denuded by the thorny imbroglio of a sunken Rose

Timmynoggies are perfect for haberdasheries of saccharine and glib excellence as measured by the ****** cacophony of unmerited applause that strains the resourcefulness of the silent mastery of magistrates in mellifluous alcoves surrounded by the soundproofed rigors of an execrable dereliction wilt into the imaginations of the few that watch movies with errantry rather than pleasantries of gaudy nonsense enchanted by a striptease of the wanton zeitgeist that some balk at but everyone knows

Time earns the spangled banners of sloganeering because of the fastidious creations of pole folders that maneuver between quips borrowed from antique movies and swindled affectations of yearning of many of all fears inevitable with the malevolent passage of the technocracy from cheers to vehement inveighed jeers

We should fear the watershed because it necessitates the evaporation of winsome ambition and implores the subservience of a guiltless fascination with abominable regress concomitant to the acceleration of money preceding a whipsawed downfall ensured by the funereal spates of requiems to oneironauts who plunged to their deaths on headlong flickering whims past the craggy landscape of lunar concordance and through the abeyance of qualms to flabbergasted self-importance in the eradication of provident fears

Memorials exist encoded in the temporal twinges of agony that straddle the cardiovascular throbs of impermanence that sweat with each simple beat to blather about the repetitious nature of a livid nature scrambled in exodus of the emigration of senseless blather to the subroutines of regimented sleepless paragons of travail in every pedestrian feat accelerated with each passing foot traversed by vigilant and eager feet

Tempests crowd the cluttered hamartithia of dredged incompetence leading to the foreclosure that precedes the simple derelictions that amount to grievous uncertainties that squawk in the plumage of the frippery decay of an autumnal fall from gracile riches landlocked without room to sprawl rigged against every track that is a surefire gleeful keepsake to meet, greet and serenade the claques adorned with the monikers of the Greeks

Trembling beneath the weight of mellifluous sauntering dingy designs that exude the anguish of our provident but incidental remonstration against the plodding indifference of the artistic clerisy we sputter against intransigent annulments of the emotive human engine calibrated with creaky pistons that rumble with furor of abrasive protest in timely haphazard elemental designs for vanguard ears

Tridents shed the fossicked leaves that are divisible by two but not inevitably glue that solders the identities of people congregated around a situation of gleeful sprees rather than wistful regress into a temerity without regret that gets dangled in the purview of the spiteful wings of armies that drawl when they sing vapid songs for vaped bongs but not the soberly cheers because of the deafening din of conformity oblivious of the honorific crescendos that still peak after so many restless years

Confederates line the avenues of bustling caverns of cumulative human disdain so willfully flouted by the wrenched corrosive frictions of vibrant deformation of the cultural narrative that encapsulates the collective bubbles chewed and jettisoned like bandied candy and then defamed without justice because  hurricanes churn up the reclusive emergence of protective vanity chased down as a sunken cost for a siphoned glory of tribal pride despite the strictures of logic

Creeping with insistence is a subaudition of governing gravel that entombs many steadfast lies that embodied people living delusory lives under a paradigm that has been subverted by the feats of science into a morass of irrelevance and the chances are many of those so deluded still breathe the air now more polluted but balk at the memories of the fallen passengers on the convalescent train that accelerates sunblind but respectfully toward a systematic engrossment of swollen intellects whimpering about the tautologic

We finance our prescient rodomontade with rodeos equipped with zany clowns who spurn the tridents of Poseidon because of the iridescent gloss of sheepish and flippant zealots who churn against the wrestling match of televised irony with accentuated eccedentesiastic disdain amended by a tolerable diversion of ennobled gallantry zip-zagging among the many valid quodlibets and missing the mark entirely on purpose to vacate the possible raillery of those who balk at time’s chosen serpentine tracks because of limited pedagogical tracts

So lets solder a forceful brunt against the senseless regalia of modern omphalos and return to the plenipotentiary fields of resourceful human inquiry into the chagrins outmoded by convenience but amplified in vociferation by the prosthetic extension of a grangull humanity outfoxing itself into a zugzwang inevitable in the future with collateral losses because of senseless invidiousness orchestrated by the immiscible dermatology of divisive facts often about race and ineluctable tax

We conclude with the optimism that refineries become gentrified by the superlunary squadrons who bask in beatific beams of anonymity and that the pollution preceding our evolution is just adventitious rather than central to the amelioration of wavy screens ennobling so many upstarts to teach themselves the majesty of lucid dreams and to capitalize on ludic ideals divorced from the urchins of radical idealisms that ironically poach rarefied air with smug pollution of narrative scares

Without trepidation we can muster the largesse of civility to create a progeny that has a recursive progeny of heirs that defiantly imagine a world bereft of specters of the soporific imagination enforced by the lapidation of insight from termagants who stride with ursine acrimony naked bare and envision a global meliorism that is careful, picaresque, pragmatic and filled with meritocratic care

With those ornaments of an aureate measure in mind


We leap beyond the enumerated infinity in time's proper design

Shiftless, sifting the air,
Plunging gyrations,
Crow speak
Hackle, hacking;
Speckles the sky.

Saw the air whittle to smoke,
Black mar in the weir of wings
And mankind muddled in the wraith,
Slowly streams a bread trail
Forth and back;
Black bleeding.

I see your claw tracks,
Dark-digging-sparkle
Plain in the muck,
Needles threading,
A trail of stars.

A mantra of the shiftless souls
The weak and will less
Gutless wretches of world
With quivering quaking shaking legs
The brittle bones of those who cannot stand
Shout retreat at break or loss of their command
Their eyes scream run
When wisdom bids they fight for what they can
But their bridges they have burned,
Roads blocked and rivers ******
They flee from what they feel they cannot fix
And hide with weak and sordid tricks
From things they do not understand

Poised for desperate violence
They stutter uttering lies
Attempting to disguise
The fear within their minds
As they make their alibis
For those who question why?

Fear,
Is their master and their king
Fear for them, the driving thing
And they have given in

You cannot save them

They are lost so let them run
From the hot and burning sun
Let them make it for the hills
For the dark cold comfort of their caves
Where in time they  learn
Courage for their soul to save
Or die in anguish
Never learning to be brave

I am the voice that crept up the water.
Sleeping, not sinking. My arm hair
stood straighter, not softening in the lake.

Wake up. Open eyes. Gasp for air.
Dark black cool everywhere I looked.
No one tells you that drowning
isn't dying.

their voices pelted spit wads.
their fear launched missiles.
their apathy sank a princess.
I watched with my screaming eyes.

When I sank I surrendered;
shiftless, restful, still.
But I did not die.

Death is the worn wet whisper.
Death comes to those who wait.
Death embraces cell fish.

And I would know.
They swim all around me.
On the land, never the water.

To them the depths of this lake
ensured my silence.
Then I woke and saw nothing,
felt nothing, knew nothing,
except for the last breath that moved seagulls
and drew mermaids near.

Shiftless, sifting the air, 
Plunging gyrations, 
Crow speak
Hackle, hacking; 
Speckles the sky.

Saw the air whittle to smoke,
Black mar in the weir of wings
And mankind muddled in the wraith, 
Slowly streams a bread trail
Forth and back;
Black bleeding.

I see your claw tracks, 
Dark-digging-sparkle 
Plain in the muck, 
Needles threading,
A trail of stars.

As I review the periodic table of elements
I have resorted to some thing so Idiotic
That the scientist have adored the relevance
of some infantile youthful designation.
I wondered... if one hydrogen atom
became two in what state,
what would two hydrogens be in another state.  
Shiftless bonds, or double 0 eight.
Is H2o oxygen or is it O2 in rain drops.
How exactly do I love your poetry.
Do I breath as do tears fall from my eyes.
Are we all spying in on the great love.
Does a capitol L make us doves?  
Ive never had such a crush,
To turn down.  How much of a hug
is a lie to another friend.  Ive had so many
affairs. That the friar asked me to spell affiar again
aware of a fraudien slip.  
I listed turned and down again I went as
I listened to my mother speaking to frenchmen.
The diety, the diet, the destruction of language, I just
stood there smiled and again I said... I wish you knew
what you were saying in Latin as the
holy spirit convenced him.  She said in uncertain
latin, the angle (angel) condemed us to understanding demi gods
and taro cards from matter to benevolence.

A Coughing man with a baseball cap, and
a girl in green scratching and caressing
her tanless velvety legs.
Water cascading from the
unnaturally made stoic fountain...

And the man with the phone
in his ear, scrapes by my sunlit chair.
Couples lying and teasing each other
soaking long lost rays together
with eyes smiling for one another...

Palms playing and swaying in the cool breeze    
protecting and shadowing those
who chose the shade over sun.
And a man with a phone attached to his ear
glides pass the unsuspecting couple.

The owl and the eagle peering and
observing from their precarious perches
lifeless in their tachadermal state
expecting more of the very same
yet only a busy signal leaves its mark.

shiftless, shirtless man on the shelf above
gingerly stepping into the steamless pool
again the man with the phone in his ear
ambling and gambling with his call
and only he knows what we don’t.

When I was a boy I fell out the pocket

I fell out the pocket

I dropped down

Left instead to the beats in my head

Which called me ahead to a timeline

Where I prettied up the ambience to the end rhyme

Given a first rate view into the sounds; I drew

Wrote and only knew how I could combine

intertwine and multitudinous vines

of personalized style defined

into my lockstep, rock depth

So do I search for meaning in a land of intrigue

Do I look for a song in the silence, in the air that I breathe?

Or given the choice do I add to the mix?

Given the choice now do I voice that I can add to this rift?

Break open the barricades and give a name to this shift?

Give it a flow, give it a flare, give a decision, commit

Bring it in low, give it a lift, give it a rhythm to drift

Don't give into shiftless insistency, sometimes cadence begs immediacy

Give it a rest, give it a pause, know that some of it hurts

But give it the Barricadence, I think you'll find that it works

Tortured Soul
They who speak fowl language walk with a cadre of devils. Can you send evil ahead destroy peace
Bind the very air loose your enemy to condemn your character in every sound reasonable persons
Hearing then expect the path to lead to tranquility and honest questions to flow back to the soul.
Your progress already fraught with challenges your need find and discover peaceable persons of
Integrity of depth and sure footing your baseness draws the brittle the shiftless to your life they will
Come in droves your voice and tongue unbridled it has not found the wisdom of being circumspect. Your
Ultimate goal go into the world study look in your unique way at it blessings and benefits train your eyes
To see perfection while it sets in and is robbed entirely in imperfection your gift and task give your vision
To those in this area who are sightless. You can be the beguiler the artisan the creator of magic casting
Spells through your own lens you are trying to become an honest guide to those without the gift their
Finding and knowing this subject is dependent on you but you must first conquer yourself and posses a
True quality of nobility where do you want to display your work in dives and back alleys or on walls that
Others have enriched by their keen sense of duty and singular vision. First the work must begin within
No one makes a mark without the hardship the dedication that results in rarefaction the norm the
Mundane can speak without end but no one pays anything for their empty ramblings. You go to the halls
Of higher they can’t teach you true genius you must open every source of your being demand perfection
Beyond the fair and easy paths look into the soul of the people produce a living edifice that will enable
Enlighten encourage free those bound give them soaring room your dream can carry them to heights
Unknown the first door you must pass through is indifference this blight destroys everything in its path
The spirit has no bounds you alone can tie God given possibility in knots with under rated living.

Shiftless, sifting the air,
Plunging gyrations,
Crow speak
Hackle, hacking;
Speckles the sky.

Saw the air whittle to smoke,
Black mar in the weir of wings
And mankind muddled in the wraith,
Slowly streams a bread trail
Forth and back;
Black bleeding.

I see your claw tracks,
Dark-digging-sparkle
Plain in the muck,
Needles threading,
A trail of stars.

Time is teasing along with lush earth so pleasing,
The minutes of our youth are spent in toiled days
And sands are blowing the weld of our sold means,
Foundations of dust, the cries unheard, of the aged.

And then, as dream, you came from the starry skies
Blue and small as the ocean dot, forever fixed—
Reigning over the frozen, revolving moon that lies,
Dimly wakes in your fabled orbit, my fated ellipse.

Now, time tables and splits, renders me to eaves
Undone, my squandered youth was but a sad play
And I am clocked with wind, the geld of my dreams,
Had shiftless hands been more solid than my days.

Please try to preserve the sleepless innocence,
It shows the most trying of souls through shiftless inter-changables.
I beg for mercy from these woes,
For there are few others i can relate to these days!

As my body transforms,
And my body warps,
For once in my life
I anticipate the bitter cold!

And i’d rather not hear you speak such banter any longer,
For it is far too much to bare,
Especially in such times
Where both shoulder blades and ribs
Cave in on an aching pity of tirelessness–
Bloodshot eyes and arthritis
Aching from the forearms down.

Academia has yet to begin.
I wring my skin of an aching burn.
The body is weary and demands rest as i can expect it.
Coincidentally, demand is on the rise–
Or could it just be another ideology,
One that explains the universe to the mind?
Depriving the body teaches one how to survive…

Fire,
Turns witches into meat
And spends nights with marshmallows.

Earth,
Riddled with growth.

Air and Water win.
Stick prizes on these shiftless things,
The see-through drowners that score absolute zero.

Post from the sea
God points his finger across the eternal span and creates worlds we point with a pier we lay on the face of

the water this spear. We look down its length our eyes continues far into the sea for our time spent the breeze caresses us with voluminous thoughts they are heavy as if they have came from great depths. Time

and space draped in mystery the sea cast this spell many have thrilled at this mighty swell that carries them on these waves dark with rewards for those that have the courage to leave the land and known

things suspend them give yourself to moody and restful thought drift on the sea’s course not your own. The weakest will soon feel the spine turning to steel the mind and soul renewed its voice now as a lions

roar. The mast of this ship your axe was the one that made the blows you chose this timber true knowing it would stand the test of all that is found in many tumults and dangerous blows common to those that

sojourn on mighty seas. To seek ease and safety you will be cursed and suffer the terrible wounds of mediocrity. This is a journey why cast yourself as the prey go out with fire in your eyes courage coursing

through your veins and heart. This is the most basic lesson that the sea does teach. Wasn’t it said you hit
the target your aiming at aim high shoot the arrows arching high and wide you alone can divide the

shiftless mist into clear skies it is your birth right you were born to be the heir of a royal king. There was never a life more lost and worthless than John Newton it took the sea and a wayward life of a slaver and

truly God’s undying grace to make the man who penned the greatest song Amazing Grace. This is but one story of many that are told your’s is the most important you today are engaged in the greatest fight

yes perilous seas on every side some go mad in the attempt the sad stories are reported every day. The hardest fact all lights have been trimmed only the most determined are making a successful run for the

golden harbor ship wreck is everywhere were not talking about the trivial this is life and death for you and your loved ones forever can’t be minimized. The sea is the great teacher you learn her realities or

perish. What life what thrills what freedom your totally alive or your stunted made less than the true ideal for all people.

Shiftless, sifting the air,
Plunging gyrations,
Crow speak
Hackle, hacking;
Speckles the sky.

Saw the air whittle to smoke,
Black mar in the weir of wings
And mankind muddled in the wraith,
Slowly streams a bread trail
Forth and back;
Black bleeding.

I see your claw tracks,
Dark-digging-sparkle
Plain in the muck,
Needles threading,
A trail of stars.

Shiftless, sifting the air,
Plunging gyrations,
Crow speak
Hackle, hacking;
Speckles the sky.

Saw the air whittle to smoke,
Black mar in the weir of wings
And mankind muddled in the wraith,
Slowly streams a bread trail
Forth and back;
Black bleeding.

I see your claw tracks,
Dark-digging-sparkle
Plain in the muck,
Needles threading,
A trail of stars.

Time is teasing along with lush earth so pleasing,
The minutes of our youth are spent in toiled days
And sands are blowing the weld of our sold means,
Foundations of dust, the cries unheard, of the aged.

And then, as dream, you came from the starry skies
Blue and small as the ocean dot, forever fixed—
Reigning over the frozen, revolving moon that lies,
Dimly wakes in your fabled orbit, my fated ellipse.

Now, time tables and splits, renders me to eaves
Undone, my squandered youth was but a sad play
And I am clocked with wind, the geld of my dreams,
Had shiftless hands been more solid than my days.

Time is teasing along with lush earth so pleasing,
The minutes of our youth are spent in toiled days
And sands are blowing the weld of our sold means,
Foundations of dust, the cries unheard, of the aged.

And then, as dream, you came from the starry skies
Blue and small as the ocean dot, forever fixed—
Reigning over the frozen, revolving moon that lies,
Dimly wakes in your fabled orbit, my fated ellipse.

Now, time tables and splits, renders me to eaves
Undone, my squandered youth was but a sad play
And I am clocked with wind, the geld of my dreams,
Had shiftless hands been more solid than my days.


                                                         ­          — after Yeats

Each trunk got treated-
the drops missing nothing,
save the sand between the roots
and the tunnels dug
beneath them.

Dry and warm-
is nothing when the air pulls
wet to your lungs,
and the woods are shiftless,
the footsteps in the sand are still.

Tides in the water
roll to slaps on the rock.
He paces through, barefoot-
feeling the quiet go on-
letting the dogs unleashed.

"Six humans trapped by happenstance
In bleak and bitter cold
Each one possessed a stick of wood,
Or so the story's told.

Their dying fire in need of logs,
The first woman held hers back.
For of the faces round the fire,
She noticed one was black.

The next man looking cross the way,
Saw one not of his church,
And couldn't bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.

The third one sat in tattered clothes,
He gave his coat a hitch.
Why should his log be put to use,
To warm the idle rich?

The rich man just sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store.
And how to keep what he had earned
From the lazy, shiftless poor.

The black man's face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from sight,
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.

"The last man of this forlorn group
Did naught except for gain
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game.

The logs held tight in death's still hands
Was proof of human sin.
They didn't die from the cold without,
They died from ---THE COLD WITHIN." - james patrick kinney

Made right by them will be the cry heard,

make right by them and by us all is the flag draped over the heads and graves of all the victims of a world so cold.

Make right by them that have stood long and strong in you windows pane.

Make right by them who have suffered the manipulations, deceptions, accusations, and judgments for all the windows pains.

Make right by them that have tirelessly stood against the tyranny and reign of the braggart, ******, authoritarian wielded heavy handed.

make right by them that have revealed the horrors of a present and future which threatens the very soul of all mankind, all while they were held down, mislead, lied too, limited, edited, and called out for the very same deeds and means for which all mankind has indulged.

Make right by them that withstood the virtual casting couched parts and rolls, rolled out to play the thorny crown , the king Aurthur and Merlin round, as they rounded the round tables so roulette  and black jacked in their get it all but play this part tick for tat all without a fact offered or even a word of truth spoken back, nor the hand shaken in an eye to eye, hows my driving doing, **** son, he did **** fine and not claiming he was a god as was seemingly offered and even demanded at the time.

Make it right by them who forced themselves to walk the longest miles in all directions with conflicting directions of supported desire, all the while waking and gracing a smile and a nod to all with un shaken eye and bold *** soul to the core of the thing that was important in all.
To find a recourse, a show and tell of who or what the hell was killing so many soldiers and lost teenage and adult souls in these treacherously invasive windows.

Make it right by them who withstood the storms and the reign ( not to be confused with the covering rain ) of un tempered temptations of the harsh and hasty delegations of self pains, unanswered questions and self doubts that were as in all people there the whole way, and at the end of the day, while the moon was high, and even high and shinning in the sky, were bold in the face of things that cause kings to take a knee and sell their souls for the fear they have of those very unbelievable yet very real and indeed powerful things that also live and breath or so it sure as a man made hell be, they sure as hell seem to truly and without a doubt live and breath. for the game of "Go" is one that was being on the table of a field in a desert don't you know, houses full and yards of the laser light shows and lightning clouds rolling slow, where oh where did all those boastful men of opposition seem to go, did they not find these things so interesting a show as to stick around and introduce themselves to these folks or critters? Oh, by the way no offense though, the critter thing is a shifting shiftless thing of me as well , or as it is told.

Make right by them who under the longest of heroic hours pressing the pressed flesh of distress and bested half dead with no rest and the bank over drawings to paint a picture as best they could of the events and stirring as they withstood, for the chances and ****** amazing dances of switch backs and double meanings did they overcome the forceful pushing and the mental screaming.  They who showed the world all they could, of what had happened, what was possibly real, fake and misunderstood. They who walked the Moon and not as the dates and times of changed time and rhyme would have one believe, oh no dear child, did you not see? For this of them that walked the Moon as the claims were made that they walked him first, but lets not mistake, a mind c an recall a change of things, things you think are here first, they have on occasion caused a good eye to reverse and remember how it was not so, in a time that they recall in their mind, so. is there a complaint against the mental weapons and struggles that he had to wield, being the one thing they against him could not fell, the child and not the father, not the husband, not the man, not the trained operator or James Bond double oh seven of the real and fine *** gentle man, but that of the child he had inside, that rocked your heart from the darkest down and brought it to light?

Make it right by them who stand to this day, even in the stains and the judgments of mans simple and funny ways, they that cranked out the nights to get a handle on what had happened without a mere relief insight, without a truth been told, a fact or compensation for the games and losses and gains of others ever to them been told though they have been accused of their souls being bought and sold, as the offer and promises of wealth and freedom and all that they ever needed or wanted were to unfold, funny, they still never sold their souls nor their names, nor their right to stake a real and true claim to it all, yet no bank over filled with resources that spelled in their names make life  good to live and sure a **** never wanted your fame, yet framed they were, all along the way.

Make it right by them who asked for the proof of their wrongs, extraordinary accusations need extraordinary proof, and of these things, they provided the only proof to any and all as they walked the walk that you could not, would not and dare not walk for you know how bad we all do fall. Yes they fell, sure as hell they fell just the same as your *** would and if they not be made right by a short time sight, they are willing to bet , all bets are off for you ever finding freedom, free will, free your child from the enslavement that they witnessed in the darkest of nights. For what was seemingly missed  by all, I fear was the revealing of how bad and deep this sinister thing is.

Though they relied on all to record, document and notice the things wrong, as they walked and suffered for the benefit of all those in the world whom are not the wealthy, powerful or fortunate to not fall victim to these technologies and soul ****** methodologies to win a war so insidious that time and the perceptions of all mankind hang in the balance it seems, though indeed they were limited in what they could see, they kept pushing and pulling, they kept raising and falling, they kept failing to find the relief and justice for all victims and their families, nor for their own family nor their own sane mind to find and kind hand or word to say, honey he is coming back, don't forget you had a plan.... hang in their sister, he is a true and honest if not flawed man.... where just these sorts of words arranged in a sentence of sequenced alignment one could have saved the family future damage and embarrassment, yet, we did find, no play in the way of lets help them and save at least this one day for them to in the future say, .... what would they have said on that day. and meant it in every soulful way, ****, guess we may never know if it keeps going this way.
But then again, I never was a fan of John Dee, Jack parsons, Alister Crowley and Franchise Bacon, Shakespeare or what ever it is that is that ******* name, Nor were it I ever a fan of their "Great Work" that this seems to be in its fame and glory , or there the lack of, Son. wink

Make it right by them who with faith , hope, love, skill and at times dumb luck made this whole play for the nations heart and the enslavement of us all, a bit harder to pull off and maybe give the people what is needed to wake them to the horrors and the depth of how wronged we all have been wronged.  for if you disagree then surely you must be none to a friendly fan of the X of a man and his fam.

Make it right to them, is the battle cry that should be sounded from the hearts of the very souls that have been also wronged and held down.

Made it right by us all, this is the all in all, and all in all you bet your *** i;m all ******* in.

air pours alive in stringencies,
fall of tor and expanse.

mazy-eyed,
casts a syncopated hook
amongst tulips beheaded

by the toppling of a leaf
bracing for departures,
something else holds back,

furrow—
the thatched morning's serious mien,
the arrow, whirling in trajectories

one with the dive into red cauldron
of infinite scar of water,
Śiva, sighted footfall of the condor's

verdigris, this simple rustle
of your scourge-gowns
insists cadence of flutings;

i am one with beginnings.
swarming poultice of the inflamed grass,
obscene lines of shore in twilight

unfazed virulence spreads
like an epidemic of kisses against the
pulsing loam, cries like breakwater

lorn the fault of men, death at one's
trembling hand — sound the tribulation
of slender bells to a gather of pallors.

it is a stopping in-placeness
like crests of *******, a beautiful woman,
shiftless weight of light on glazed    collarbone, Śiva, the enigmatical paradox

beleaguers a concatenation of
unloose chandeliers of appurtenances,
the unblinking aperture, widening in sky.

Post from the sea
God points his finger across the eternal span and creates worlds we point with a pier we lay on the face of the water this spear. We look down its length our eyes continues far into the sea for our time spent the breeze caresses us with voluminous thoughts they are heavy as if they have came from great depths. Time and space draped in mystery the sea cast this spell many have thrilled at this mighty swell that carries them on these waves dark with rewards for those that have the courage to leave the land and known things suspend them give yourself to moody and restful thought drift on the sea’s course not your own. The weakest will soon feel the spine turning to steel the mind and soul renewed its voice now as a lions roar. The mast of this ship your axe was the one that made the blows you chose this timber true knowing it would stand the test of all that is found in many tumults and dangerous blows common to those that sojourn on mighty seas. To seek ease and safety you will be cursed and suffer the terrible wounds of mediocrity. This is a journey why cast yourself as the prey go out with fire in your eyes courage coursing through your veins and heart. This is the most basic lesson that the sea does teach. Wasn’t it said you hit the target your aiming at aim high shoot the arrows arching high and wide you alone can divide the shiftless mist into clear skies it is your birth right you were born to be the heir of a royal king. There was never a life more lost and worthless than John Newton it took the sea and a wayward life of a slaver and truly God’s undying grace to make the man who penned the greatest song Amazing Grace. This is but one story of many that are told your’s is the most important you today are engaged in the greatest fight yes perilous seas on every side some go mad in the attempt the sad stories are reported every day. The hardest fact all lights have been trimmed only the most determined are making a successful run for the golden harbor ship wreck is everywhere were not talking about the trivial this is life and death for you and your loved ones forever can’t be minimized. The sea is the great teacher you learn her realities or perish. What life what thrills what freedom your totally alive or your stunted made less than the true ideal for all people.

my poised mother stances
to behead the onion—
begins a murderous sound brigade
of simmer in the home.
the fizz starts to assault the restive
pulse of woodwork,
the red plush of air in the heart of cauldron — little child you are no longer
  a boy; the furniture is arranged and
the nail is hammered to its deep oceania.

the feeling of stillness,
  a saboteur.

a stasis of dark flounders a steady lark.
headiness of scent peregrinating
toughness, the countenance of walls.
i am always the egg smashed opened,
cracked, bleeding clear, yolk gallops,
  slides like thigh upon fault of pond.
i begin to understand the curious case
  of feral, the benign death of rodent;
the cupboard infested with species
  running around China plates.

  the quietude starts
to confront the little house
   of moon — the silvery mane of water
trapped in the Earth, listen to its bell;
the shiftless rotund of its footfall,
    these are the hooves of it, rummaging
   past the minutes like a horse.

Miss independent
So beautiful, so fly
You say you don't need anybody?
We all know that's a lie

We respect what you bring
To the table,
You took the initiative to support and provide for yourself, because you can will and are able

But girl, don't assume that a man with limited finances isn't worth your time
He may not have a jet, three cars, but he's willing to invest his time

He may not be Bill gates, making billions everyday
But If he goes out if his way to make you happy
You'd be dumb not to let him stay

So miss independent
Before you say that men are worthless, shiftless and not worth the time
Stop listening to your bitter single friends, and try to change your state of mind

The greatest eye, seeing as I see: infinity infinitely,
Passing and being amidst mere seconds, touching glassily
Fringes of the smallest universe of me,
The happier side of the sublime, distant fingers of distant peaks
Combing the edge of time.

I’ve stared at the stars too long, we saw them dance out of space
More dimensions than a singularity, for it opens up
As hearts do in each other placed.
From fixéd gaze and placidity, I stride in awe to you
We could feel one with acatelepsy

Have what some consider few, and few consider all
Intertwined by the darkness between the dying stars’
Existence, in that both skins a whole that glistens.
Of that place, I in constant drawn, that vacuity, that candoris

A promise that, regardless what season, my face feels apricity
And careless are the places as numinous are the lariots
Whether through Hell or usurping Pheobus’ chariot
Some hope may birth within the open dark
The treasured lunar retinue, a web of inspiration, generations to come;

That’s what keeps me hopeful here, a shy star in the void
Across it all, across life-lines I shall have,
Before you ever meet me, long since dissipated—
Come out to see me and play, or are you simply? Belated?
In that web, the growing ever-on, generative swan-songs,

And the one I wish on may befall a stellar death, my sky
Alighted by one less, a part of me to the cold and shiftless earth
That though the stars may fall, these hearts may flash chimerical
Etched limpid in the palimpsest of memory, they are, they will
Hearts of the little universe, consumptive and resilient

And kept ever on, there beyond Jupiter and his moons thereof
In which chaos finds itself bathed and bound by Love.