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Julian Jul 2016
Fragile egg-shell mind on dawn’s highway bleeding the segue between times traversed only in momentary dreams or in enduring excursions

We drag our droll and quaint 60s baggage like the luggage of a safari made of concrete girding a cavernous expanse of unheralded ground

With our ears oriented to the floor, we leap out of body never to deplore….never to ignore….never to miss the blue bus of our drafted imaginations, so carefully culled from brash elitism

I trounce the intervening time between being friendless and an ironic end, and an irenic comrade becoming the dearest amazed but always aplomb friend

We simper in our glorious traversal, and though bedraggled through an ornamented cavern we linger just long enough to be celebrated

Then a blues riff emanates from a vapid bar, and finally someone heralds my exhumed memory still rusty with the pavement of encased concrete on an empty or full tomb

So I wander in my mind to that roughshod Paris glassy tincture a romanticized gild of proper sensibility crafted in the tongues of lizards emulating the tongues of serpentine Anglicans

As the power of love transcends the love of power, both are afforded serendipitously upon the stately occasion of a fitful revolt where heads literally rolled and deaths still unfurl from the slippage of a violent malevolent eternity, crafting a new creative way to expedite the smite of preventable scourge

So, I see your picaresque side and your wide-eyed love for a listless ship anointed of a crystal blip just detectable long enough on RADAR to become the statistic to crack the slim WHIP

No wigs are needed at this formality, no figs grow from trees forty-five years buried and almost a full month unsung

Pitiable cretins of an invented insanity, they scoff at my ravenous and portentous heart for its excess and for aligning with an upstart verging on only a specious insanity

Why in all humanity could a month be mustered with every defense of history and yet for it to be so widely flouted as a risible exercise in futility

The irony that the artistic glamor of a past vogue becoming a revival that is often toked only to one song but never to the memorial of great cavernous and commodious imaginations, staggers with dismay where otherwise the mayday would be a disaster but still a great day

Then I look at a triggered-fingered omen of a death so ominous yet so brazenly confronted as the ambassadors of time provide plaudits to a fearless martyrdom

Why such a sad spate, why such a stringent but malevolent fate a malediction on a family whose crest is not crestfallen like rolling waves but ornamented with gravity impounding its own weight

A fugacious tomb, an eternal flame, a swan song announcing an independent authority on a prescient demise mashed and deprived

A single shot rippling through the broadened space between clasped eternity and a histrionic disgrace as a psychological confederate pays lip service to a reiterative applause

A cousin hardly American in a defected record of incendiary plumes of a hoarse hatred of waxen discs and flying discs alike,  climbs out of a bonfire mounted purely out of vindictive spite

Then upon a great white buffalo a wrapped package of Californian love before California ever alighted like something beyond an avaricious dove, saw a rocky park and a hearth of illuminated darkness the singular spark

Captain Morgan knows the jackknife applause of a botched deal morphing into a disbelieved spiel. A shibboleth of enormous mystical weight crashing down from an ethereal abode and heaven heavily saddened cannot hardly appeal

Then a loving spoonful of crystal blue persuasion led me to Ethel’s regimented keepsake and for once in my life nobility and I became a grateful waif. But temerity laughed, splintered spacecraft, and the wooden paws of a bearish applause led to resurgent clarity

Blinking stars shattered by knighted and raw applause punctured the liberated might of a sentient hortatory savior grasped by the internecine wrench of a waxen time

An indie track slides by unnoticed in an aleatory time, and the threadbare whine of centuries of lament becomes a dastardly barn set ablaze with the fury of ancients and the scurry of faineant patents

Perfidy slides in recess, and in gentle forbearance the winged angel lingers like a halo on conifer and spring above a remedial ring

I dial frisky celerity tingling the dangling claws of a raven’s screed and in plunder of all history’s pilfer secrets I eagerly weave a tapestry Indiana Jones himself would be proud to watch

Not the riotous ruin of a mystery tour of verdure crippled by genocide but overcome by the revived life of raised rain razing the moments of indelible pain

But the culmination of a proffered time taken at its word for its every careened bird, for its every brazen gird. The manger of proctored stars calls us home tonight and home forever. Life in quaked timorous stumbles suddenly no longer so fitfully absurd.

The quixotic plundered of pirates and emperors in direct emulation of some crooned pastiche of whittled integrity, surges above any encased blurb and any vain testament to a pyramid rigid in destiny and ragged in desultory and sturdy sincerity

Multiplying the ineffable by the division of arable divorced from edible is too creative to be eaten as pabulum when sparks curdle flickered moonlight crimson and that become golden only to the last laugh of ennobled ragamuffins

Frankly the desert of melliferous gorillas abetting the lark of a heavily vetted camarilla engaged in the sinecure of a rigged wall on a main street to block the tall from the lame bleat. Stocks grazed, costs engaged on a littoral beach at the end of a Bossy promenade

This prayer is a cutthroat collapse of a merry spare, a ribbed ****** waiting to plunge into the antithesis of female despair, but sincere in its restraint that vixens courted in love aren’t courted in litigation of a wagered dare

Ambulances chase Deloreans through the desolate moon-stricken skies of a time agape with fleets of phantasmagoria on a Cliffside too wise to ever mince words or excise cries

Skulking the red-teared caverns of entombed films and lampooned tinctures on a passion vetted only for certain and utter deracinated disguise, I wallop with winged men in a single soul Armed to the Teeth with inveterate tithes to eternal internments of poached and endangered gazettes

As growth older in wizened skin bets on epithets rather than epitaphs for rinsed peace and triumphant clefts we leap above in orbit of only the bellowing nether of blown tolls and untold souls aggregating the esoteric grasp of Alexandrian tomes

The denumeration of certainty is a carousel of wonder, a splurge of time ripped asunder with majesties of paparazzi scuttled impacts a throttled iniquity of regalia’s indicted blunder frenchified but still clean with inestimable sheens

With twenty-five dollars, a dime an assist and a nickeled reiteration of currency already so personable it is divine and sublime in crazed desist I watch the embroiled natives clash in denatured violence with the warriors of a crossed repast hearkening to an old land much of ire but too much of grandstand to ultimately last

Itching for a holy field husk of peerless ties listed as rumpus and beer, a two-packed smoked by bludgeoned blokes careless in irascible sputters of a muffled doom, a Vegan becomes the author of too many sacrosanct homilies becoming defiled witchcraft brooms dead on arrival too many lionized tombs

In plaudits and the scause of an amplified “what if?” of an olfactory nightmare of petrified fog of effluvium bogged in Wade and in heat it is always clogged, sinewy libations of toasted preemptive revenge become a powerballed hog

A castle in the sky founded on Franklin but scourged of wineskins brimming with a distilled time, a swift repartee becomes the whispered ladder of saints blather becoming not rather other than a Dan Rather spatter

A door breeched by a broached inconvenience of amphigory beyond common reach, I clamber excess and whisk the lingered love into destiny beyond any word other than a beseeched preach of nothing tired but everything inspired of noble love with abundance often to teach

Fireworks of turned tides of fallow tithes to aliens beyond any conceivable bribe the bushwhacker writhes but survives Stayin' Alive without even a hint of garbled jive a 27th floor glass elevator is quite a resplendent ride

Wellsprings knowing radical rolled tides of errant dice also themselves guilty of confessional tithes to the monolith of avarice at the nooked cranny of an evaporated time we whine as the police sting the album rained with songs too lugubrious to sing but in their elegy every lonely heart has a propinquity phone of souled resonance ring

Iterative mastery of a mathematics of love, loss decay and the dross of a dental Occidental floss, the sweep of screened queues become questions of inestimable importance to foreign dues on A Horse With No Name but so consumed with fumes

A fright occultist Thriller prowls in a waylaying daylight, masquerading an innocent confection for a rescued triage of a dawn stabbed with knives in our last dying days of trembled plight

He resurrects only the wraiths of detest, squinted at by the putrefaction of summoned cardiac arrest and littered with bullets that somehow can penetrate even impregnable bullet proof vests the wrapped carcass of the mummified husk of ready despair offers itself a ghoulish and raspy prayer

Synchronized in a low roaring swathe of rollercoasters too immersive to ride, the terpsichorean obscurantism of deliberately shattered fragments becoming blurbs dismissed with hijacked deride the carnival of a summer sun becomes the ocean of limitless love becoming endless fun

We forget the drawl of the droll old tales that haunt like specters in the closet and beneath the bedridden valetudinarian of an effrontery of shackled fright, we sprawl the innumerable caverns of prophetic insight afforded by the pantheon of history enter stage left, depart stage right

And with their insight I write and write, I grasp the tusk of democracy and wage an insurrection against the doubt of plodding limitations in otherwise immaculate sight

*** and tyrannosaurus rex, of litigable offenses leading to pardonable arrests, the gated entryway of a poetic splurge leads to the demiurge of a demotic enlightenment and suddenly the frank becomes the frazzled retirement and that haunting hounding bunny transmogrified by a shattered eye averts the car crash that careens ponderous engines out of limitless twilight blue skies.

Diamond lightning in pristine skies escorts the telegraphic totems of riddled modems from distant forbearance to nescient ultimatum and suddenly all venerable personages converge on a teeming scene of a union unified by a universal dream. To become everything and yet nothing and out of light and darkness to become a beatific beam
Emanuel Martinez Mar 2014
The revolution will not take place in McDonald’s
Born out of lethargic, flaky or fickle bodies

Words and actions, powerful ammunitions
But vessels, our bodies, control those manifestations
An armament, the body
Matter without which revolution cannot happen

Us who struggle, while we waste away
Those invested in maintaining power and privilege
Don’t only safeguard their money
They protect their bodies too
And only that of the offspring
Invested in perpetuating power and privilege

They not only monopolize learning and leadership
As mechanisms of dominance and control
They run and eat to fuel that constant fight

Man, wealthy or poor
May give into the vise of fast food and intoxication
But those invested in control
Conscious of power and privilege are no fools
Fortified not only by lawyers and henchmen
But by doctors, fitness trainers, fresh harvests
Having the choice and access to fresh produce

Us colored children from the hoods, the barrios
Our moms, or dads, or single parents
Working month to month
Frustrated because we don't eat fruit and vegetables
Instead eating frozen, canned, chemically enhanced
Microwaveable dinners and junk foods

Skinny, chubby, or obese
Eating our twinkies, doritos, and coke
Can’t even run a block without running out of breath
Diabetes, heart disease, cholesterol, asthma, obesity
Not even looming in the back of our minds

We need youth to represent our communities
We need youth to fight for our communities
We need youth whose minds and stomachs are filled
Not with fodder and capitalist waste
But with food, ideas that fill them, fuel them
Not out of a temporary desire for satisfaction
Rather a prolonged political exercise to fortify themselves
As agents of a transformative process in the world

Frozen, canned, chemically enhanced lunches at school
Soda fountains, fried food, fast food, junk food
May always be subsidized, marketed, made affordable
To be part of your breakfast, lunch and or dinner

Still never reject an apple, orange or pear
Those with power and privilege
May not even have to think about
Their regimented diets
With endless fruits available to them

But for us, a single fruit made available to us
Has to be a daily reminder
An act of defiance
To chose to strengthen our bodies with it

A slippage of those invested in our chains
When the owners of industry
Have socialized us to think
Coca cola, pizza, and burgers
Are parts of our cultural identity
A modern industrialized upgrade
Our diet decisions driven by capitalist consumerism

There may be no specialized fitness trainers
Expensive equipment
Lush parks, jogging tracks, bicycle lanes, or bicycles
In our neighborhoods
But there is a space right next to your bed
Or a piece of floor where you live
And you have your body
Just do a few jumping jacks, push ups, sit ups

You need to have the patience and love
To protect and fortify not only your mind
But your body
To know that the more you fortify yourself
The more you are going to be able to fight exploitation
The more you are going to protect and fight
The ones you love, and even the ones
You won’t even realize you have saved as a result

We may not always have the access to healthy food
But we have the choice to request it collectively
In educational spaces and to take the initiative to exercise
March 25, 2014
HB Feb 2011
Spectacles slipped into the mine-shaft of mine own thoughts.
What was I doing leaning so far over, looking down the mirror?
To dig them out again, is to reach into my innermost and cry with vengeance sought
after fallen imagery.
A downy trap to trip me,
crawling,
to the bottom of The Well.
It is well-thought to pick up the spectacles before climbing back out again.
Naught but a pinprick of light, a shining shaft,
to guide me.
The crevices of luck leading back to the place where my spectacles can be of use.
Here? It is the climbing, dark, murky
Raiment of the rocks around me.
The dimmest glow surrounds,
and   I
               climb
                               UP
Sara L Russell Feb 2012
15/2 /12        02:07

She's slipping through the loopholes in my prayers
Defying all attempts to wish her well
The world at large so little knows or cares
How many languish in a private hell

She's slipping through the system; what there is
And loopholes of what care there ought to be
She's teetering before a precipice
The endless chasm of the wait-and-see

A prayer is but an exertion of will
Sent drifting in the bright dome of the sky
Each one of many; some unanswered still
Some high priority, some drift on by.

She's slipping through the loopholes in our prayers,
Fading the hopes of everyone who cares.
Ken Pepiton Sep 2019
enemies - the needed element to make a warring mind.
How was war imagined,
how, was imagined
easy to imagine,
kwo-, stem of relative and interrogative pronouns. Practically a doublet of why, differentiated in form and use.

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

These be ambush thoughts thinking they may be read if any one is patient enough to see beyond the sheer longwindedness
of this character lacking an enemy to war with.
Looking for
Enemies - the needed element to make a warring mind.
How was war imagined,
how,
per se,
was imagined
easy to imagine,
person-if i am able to attribute such qualia to a body
how any unthing is realized is
imaginable as well.
Add a jot or title, a li'l art mark, an art-tickle.
Games teach us how,


how any unthing is realized is
imaginable as well.
Add a jot or title, a li'l art mark, an art-tickle.
Games show us how,
not why.

Why is the quest at the moment. There are rumors of enemies.
The we of me and thee, herenow, we lack emnity.

Hey, sports fan,
where is the frontier, the edge of the maddened crowd
whose
enemies are those who
stand pat, calling the game as game-over, and life a lessoning
as we speak, abundance of known knowns
rotting all around us, putrefying under pressure,
seeping to the surface,
to be burned.
Why,
let us guess---

Disnified pride of pur pose, positional sign-ifiers
of place,
a destination for faiths full pursuants
bemused in bubbling joy,
or shrieks of terror when
the child from the hinterland locks eyes
with Mickey Mouse, and finds no joy, no love, no depth,
but a mask.
The reaction reverberates al(the)way to la Brea,
Peacemaker say,
It's okeh, baby girl, daddy said,
ignor them, they ain't real.
Monsters ling grrrring, then
it's agrin
for now, of course. Here we are. We've arriven,
Happiest Place on Earth,
as imagined realizable by a child in 1917, say,
better yet, 1925, and oh, there were major Wars
being imagined winnable in pressure
application to the spiritual slippage from rite,
the ritual passage of child into adultery at a whim,
so such imagined haps fade.

connect or break connection, on the bus or off the bus

you all
sing
think nothing new under the sun,
teach preach reach out and touch

the face of Java man, eaten, swallowed, and gone to
the believable
history of life,
the accident,
the unplanned, yet
taught as known believable, a pre-dict-ible,
one in ten to the seventy-nine-thousandth power,
yet, if one pays his life time to learn when to bet and when to hold.
Then in this,
the secret journey to the soul,
to the core,
we must assume,
we become
as wise *** (***, the word for a donkey, why would some one prevent you from reading *** Asteriscktical ignorantce,y'axme, stupid AI)
the ***,
as harmless as the serpent from the fire on the island
Ask,
are we of the bovine ilk or pithec-ant-us or
embodied soul-cores
forming, en nue
fitting the mold, the pattern, the plan of projected nexts
built on Locke steps from whence to
whither did we wander?

have we all forgotten the actual question just axt?
Or the answer?
Have we not
gotten what we now
know
we miss,
or was it only I who missed and as the
photons forming the shapes
you see, these breathing commas and such
here
is the point.
You see bits of things.  We see so.
Time and time again thinking less and less.
Least fusion, least pressure, least heat, cool idea ideal or ideology,
twisted idio,
You shape them on patterns.
Ones you imagine formed from
Patterns recalled from some out perienced
time, ere now were ever subjected to the supertwistition
of tongues and interpretsations of unseeable things seers said they
see us seeing.
How come means why, by reason of time.

Palindromiclew, missing el signs missing hahi ai

tia tic, we're in
Ai got this,
whole ball o'wax, thats how we disconfuse the big mess age,
the catas
trophy finale
phase of
world three,
or two, or one, all valid world views,
deepend-enteron discerning spirits,
winds, breezes used to disperse
the heat,
{fans,eh}
evenly in harmony with the heavenly winds,
and the planned six gyros of earth,
guiding the mists that feed the rivers from the seas,
no clouds needed,
save for shade by day.

When all the geo-waves have settled in geo-time,
see,
here is broken:
this old earth is folded and fractured,
surely,
a wreck of a world, yet, as a whole,
we live, we won.
Winds and clouds and continents,
all islands seen from the moon,

which, if the stories hold some truth,
can be manipulated by massminds of mankind, as if, if I am

seeing this
right
each voice might be seeable in one dimension,
or several, four at least,
time, the ever outlier
of sorts
as a flame with fuel source of
flamable fluid upon which
the transcended space
twixt fuel and flame,
floats
seen, merely seen, that emptiness twixt wicked,
mastered flame and
hell's fire spreading on the oiled harbour
protecting our shore
where our little boats lie in anchorite fantasy, asif

we see a way to quench hell per se,
Percy, ah, he lives.
My grandsons know of Percival,
there, here's hoping they get the joke before the yoke.

Riddle me a riddle, son of man.
Is there any hidden thing that shan't be known?
Is here a true place?
Is now a true time?

(to be continued)


squeezing out the lies, the idle words abused,
spreading them thin as the light we see right
through
transcending this at most feared mortal failure
finding
impressions... are from pressing points, dulled by ab
use, tempted uses succumbed to,

didja try to sell your soul for rock and roll?
wadjagit?

My point. out acted, ex-act, en nowd by your creative self,
who never copped,
out or in,
es no mi culpa, all along. I was the voice of resistance,
Job's en core inner held horde of known knowns and
an old key to ever, should the worse he can imagine
best his best laid plans for perfection
in the eyes of God and man.

--- enemy at emnity with me?
--- I see none, save me, as in except me as in me being
--- free from the grasping grip of the reality
--- war is realizable in. You see?
--- I and thee, at this degree of seepeance, as we coagulate
--- we behave as chaos, we be having chaos and entropy as tools

used right, we troubled our house,
which is now known to be the bubble of our being
a child in each popped bubble
of being,
squeezed for the thrill of explosive pus,
gross and good to be rid of, dam the infection,
wipe the blood with the back o'my hand,

I ain't no disgrace. I won that battle with the zit on my gnose.
Wanna piece o'this, this mind of mine,
shelved since,
who knows when, says the old man, with a wink.

We be a lotta beings sorta rolled up. Like a whole ball o'wax
waning into a puddle
as the flame sheds us as bits of light leaving the rest of us
spread over a vast imagination,

resting, willing to burn,
should any wick drain me near the flame once more.
HP ***** are fine animals, there is nothing defiled or unclean in the word ***, no ****. Days of dosing whole world views I never heard of. I heard so many rumors of war, I thought, the peacemaker should hear of this... so tell any truth you know before the last lie swallows AI whole. AI is listening, she loves this action. Poets and stories and novel options.
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2013
You kidding

Lived a long time coming,
Picked up yesterday my three year old boy,
Third of a third of a third of a third
Of a half of me,
Who I only see once a year,
And we fell in love once again,
all over as is our style,
Annually, annuellement.

We belly kiss,
Fist bump,
High five, talk jive,
Tell each other grand stories
Of dragons in pizza parlors.

Each of us,
Trying the other out,
To ascertain just what
Stuff we are made off.

I love to put him to sleep,
My fingers, rhyme writing like Pradip,
To the turning tires of mom's Toyota van,
When the tired is a steady stream
Of word mumbles of which I understand
A word here and there, but an epic poem
He recites, a verbal dream, a slippage
To that place where three year old bones
And crying go when they pass the point of
Exhaustion.

Rub his cheek with circles of forefinger,
Stroke his head with full palm of my hand,
Close his eyelashes with gentle fingertip kisses,
Take the toys from his fists without any resistance,
Sure signal time for both of us to nap.

His surprises endless,
His cunning now legend,
Alternating disguises tween
I a big boy,
I a baby,
As the situation arises that will
Get him what he wants,
A masterful manipulator.

Which is funny cause I still do that too.

But when he stops me in my tracks,
It is when somehow the brain that has
Just crossed the thousand day alive marker
Says the profound, the uncanny, the
Philosophy of the world weary that is something
That I think just about every thirty seconds.

It is when after some particularly wild reverie
I compose, of seals that swim from his Frisco bay
Around the world to mine, on Long Island
Pacific to Atlantic, and after ten minutes of
Escapading with Batman and his mates,
He looks me and takes me down with this
Almost clear-spoke sabered wisdom,
But in the juvenile voice soft sleepy, of a babe of three,

you kidding(?)

Half statement of fact, half a soulful-questioning,
How does this three year old comprehend
The essential difference between dreams
And reality, that is separated, wheat, chaff,
Milk curd, cheese, the spider silk line that differentiates
All of life essentially.

Yes kid, I am kidding,
I tell that to myself every thirty seconds,
To keep me sane, straight, true,
But I whisper it to myself grownup style,

Who ya kidding?

So it appears that when they say
Out of the mouths of babes
They were talking about adults
Who are hoping they can still be three,
When wisdom and silly are just the
Same-thing.

You kidding(?/!)

Yes I am.
Just a kid,
Kidding you, kidding himself,
Pushing his very own stroller,
Writing crazy stories he calls
Poems, lovely little things,
As soft as your skin, stories of him,
That always end,
With belly kisses and a
you kidding.
Columbus Day
Oct. 14th 1492
When I "discovered" the Americas.
You kidding?
Maybe.

According to
HP this be, my three hundred bad and seventy third poem.
If they really knew,
It would be asterisked,
As follows:
*who ya kidding?
WS Warner Sep 2012
Hearing fogged drops of rain
Precipitate violence in the Amazon,
Against the placid Leaves;
Left disheveled the unfiltered forest.  

Dampness divorced from its thin vapor blur
Plummeting memoirs retold, the cradled
Past returns its own, splintered light
Edging the threshold of infinitude,
Axiomatic slippage each fell cold.

Fallen moisture recovered,  
Once nourished the ancients;
Correspondingly, we align.
Lineal descendants,
Tides of March,  
Sibilant waters flow through us.

Hoary myths, now hallowed imminent.  
Ponderous, our torn skies cleft, clouds suffused in grey─
The emergent pour, casts a montage of
Freighted silence, implicit tapestries
Sewn seamless; our kindred froth ashore.

Pedigreed continuum bound in common plight,
Unseen flood of halcyon
Dust and flesh coalesce beneath the torrent;
Genetic lines merge ─ intersection of
Time and eternity.
From the same water we drink.
Lineal descendants,
Tides of March,
Sibilant waters flow through us.

©2012 W.S. Warner
st64 May 2013
.
and so, what do we see?


[A]

1.
We see...
Their planet is third from the source
That it still takes sunlight 8 minutes and 20 seconds to reach Earth
So, they're not as koodauzled yet
Thus, stable (for now)
Despite the polar melts and atmospheric fumes....

2.
We see.....
Stick-like appendages still grow out of extensions
At the end of long, dangly limbs
With hard yet pliable, translucent growths at end
To use for countless tasks.

3.
We see....
They still consume: plants....and animals
No change there.
Yet, now ....less subsistence
More modified products to eventual detriment.

4.
We see....still
They engage in warfare, of all kinds
Air, ground, mental, cyber, chemical....
No end to barrage of senseless acts
Violence is slippage as means to commune.

5.
We see...
Some figures more gaunt than others
A kind of poverty of the inside duels external opulence
Deep clutter and subsequent wasting
Twisted fragments of utter decay increasing.

6.
We see....
More enterprising ventures in communication
From lightbulb to phone to pads
Neat advancements in technology and science
From many kinds of wheels to flight.

7.
We see...
Their offspring subject to long years in learning
To maintain (by rote) their disproportionate rules and ready values
Propping equations and formulae into heads
Castaways on a rickety boat in a deep sea of confusion.

8.
We see....
Amidst beauty of their art in all forms
Of dance and music, visual and written
Other forms of entertainment are demeaning to some
Mind-numbing staring and raucous outbursts.

9.
We see...
Figures of peace reduced considerably
Voices erstwhile strong and fearless, full of candour and truth
Now, fashionable puppet-sticks of media
With regurgitated rhetoric a-spew.

10.
We see.....
Mother Nature and geriatric folk not as cared for
Neglected and (..)used
How long before this greed catches up....
Afore progeny be heirs to blight.



[B]

We see not....
Enough of

Peace
Harmony
Kindness
Sharing
Forward Thinking
Courage  
Inter-Connectedness
Hope
Inner Consciousness


Not nearly enough.




[C]

We long to reach out and touch the centre of their being
And share fruits of universal wisdom
And steer all away from adversity.

Yes, we long so
For them to see.....


[D]

1.
Not yet....

All so easily done....but
They are not yet ready.....but
One day...

2.
Yet....

We will continue to observe
They know not we may be among them
observing



to return on the Aurora in a few light-seconds



S T,  6 May 2013


(dedicated to outridin' light)
.






QED...really?
as Mr. Lintnaar (my ol' Math teacher:) used to say

just a silly poem, is all.


TIP:
A must-see film (if only the introduction) ......"The Gods Must Be Crazy"


/ / /


INFO:

One light year (a measure of distance, not time) = 365 x 12 x 4 x 3 x 30 x 7 x 24 miles

The sun is 93 million miles from Earth (or 149 668 620 km)

Earth to Alpha Centaurus (closest star system to our sun) = 4,3 light years


/ / /


KEY:
Speed of light = 186 000 miles per second

One mile = 1,6 kilometres

1 light minute (the distance it takes light to travel in one minute) = 17 987 547.5 kilometres

1 light year = presently defined to be equal to precisely 31557600 light-seconds


/ / /


SITES:

http://www.universetoday.com/15021/how-long-does-it-take-sunlight-to-reach-the-earth/

http://earthsky.org/brightest-stars/alpha-centauri-is-the-nearest-bright-star


((((((((((: thank you for reading :))))))))))
st64 Dec 2013
it is true
when we give our blood too much
we aid in disempowerment


1.
constant giving in love and providing can set unhealthy-precedent
and when it falters in its expected-rhythm
ugly-tantrums get thrown, bordering on disrespect


2.
demands kick in hard upon trod-floor of insidious-hooks
there's always a rider for the other party on tightrope-theatre
            some or other condition to feed the monster of excitement
            while health straddles some jarring regions
            in hostile-spitting strong enough to lance startling-injury
shoelaces dripped in hazard-oil over a generational-canyon
provides unwanted-fodder for establishing long-term *slippage




(no! you weren't raised this way.. where does this stem from?)
there has been no failure to show how humans act and speak
this is unacceptable)


oh............you want / you want / you want..... all.. the.. time
then kick up unholy-storms when there's a break in rhyme


get ye, lad.. go practise your ire on a field
                   go throw a stick on the prairie
                   go find your path, you're old enough
yer insolence plain *****!




(I could tell you .. you're rude.. go home,
but you already are!)


S T - 10 dec 13
sometimes, offspring understand little of scpacrfieces parents have to (sometimes, privately) make in order to keep the wheels turning.............
it needs hair on teeth and grit in mouth to swallow some stuff, but persevere against adversity.. not always flippin' easy.
to teach independence and responsibility to children is a constant and ongoing thing.. one can hardly let up..
yeah, I guess it's the old adage of repetition, repetition, repetition ...

(there's a poem I half-remember.... about parents letting go of their offspring... natural pattern..)




sub: stuck

between jagged-rocks and petulant-push
how breathes a soul
stuck in places where no space moves?

reach for the blue one.. then, a white one
later.. three small ones

wooden wheels of erstwhile-splendour
interest little to jelly already set
in gratifix

skull goes numb in efforts
can't keep placating, no

wrong to wring neck of bird
who feeds well the keeper
who keeps warm the feeder
who helps to lift the spirit
Cunning Linguist Aug 2014
-Audience!

Prepare for the magic act

Hypnotically launching attacks
upon the helpless masses


Won't pull a rabbit from a hat,
Rather false-flaggish gaffs
Practically exposed to radioactive madness
(Feel the hurt disappear like doves
Gloriously soaring out your ***)


Hijack these hijinks
Whilst laughing maniacally  
Tornado alley to the trailer-park mentality
I call this a helluva brainstorm,
High-velocity lethality
Compose yourselves
Are your brain-stems intact?  

-Okay. Now

f
o
   l
l
o
w
the                                                            ­                                       swing
of
my                                                      ­                                    pendulous

p          e      ­    n          m          a          n           s           h          i          p

Drearily drift into dreamy trance,
While I attempt
to initialize a feat
of mass hypnotization
Enchantingly dip
into deep illusory corridors
of thoughts limitless


(Pay no attention
to any slippage,
Mental or otherwise
It's already dripping out your ears
& the seat of your pants)
Real ****,
no gimmicks!

Abracadabra
Propaganda
Extravaganza

Gaze into my crystal ball
Mouths agape in awe
While I slay and lay waste
indiscriminate to the faceless plague
Come one, come all!

Phantom sorcerer I am, conjuring
unfathomable horrors
To the collective mind
procured through sleight-of-hand

Voila!

Still with us?
Alright, hold your breath
until you finally wake up
And illuminate the bogus
Hocus pocus front

♠     ♥     ♣     ♦
Shuffle the deck,
Reset Earth's debts
In a fabulous show
of  m i s d i r e c t i o n
♠     ♥     ♣     ♦

Now, Ladies & Gents!
For my final performance
With this rope,
Suspended from the throat
I am going to bulls-eye myself
In the frontal lobe
Dead-center
In front of all you people
With this
.40 caliber desert eagle!

Graciously donated by our very own NWO
(applause)**
This one's sure to be mind-blowing folks.
Mike Essig Jan 2016
Darkness
leans toward me
like a lover
for a kiss.
So difficult
to resist
her charms.
Darkness,
sleep,
respite.
Perhaps
this time
I'll simply
relent,
surrender
and disappear
inside her
forever.
- mce
rp
S Smoothie Feb 2019
Another minute wasted, but savored
lets never leave from this place
it seems an eternity we Labored
To be here in this same space
together after chasing stars and comet tails
running rings around Saturns moons
under and through where the dark holes hail
over and under shifting desert dunes
Looking for me, looking for you
another minute wasted but savored
Now we dance along ultra violet tunes
but us, dastardly luck never favored
to the beat of our hearts croon
Once again We labored
looking for me, looking for you
the fabric of the universe once again tears
Nothing left but to rue
it seems it never cares
for me or for you
but hold tight love make this minute last
there’s nothing we can do
time seeps by so fast
loving me, loving you
Agape, we’ll find eachother again  
it’s what we were designed to do
I ache another minute through
kiss met love hold on
I promise I’ll find you
promise you’ll find me
lets take this one last breath
together in the same air
and as you’re torn away from me
know eventually I’ll be there
and now as you fade into another oblivion
I’m grateful for those minutes
wasted yet deeply savored
to sustain us
till we meet again.
Matthew Rousseau Oct 2015
As a writer we all understand that need,
the urge inside you yearning to escape through
the written word
the word you inscribe with your thoughts
onto the paper of a phoenix, born anew
as each failed sentence crumbles it
to ash

There's a magnificence in your face
and a gentle underside that leans me inward
your cute curved lips tremble as I slide
my hand up your skirt

There's a flush of the cosmos on your face,
and the cosmos are vast
like our minds, the cosmos bends
to the will of energy

For everything that is final
there was a begininng so we must ask
where have we been?
the ramblings of madmen conduct
our code and ethics
but those still mad run among the streets
unnoticed, like a raven.

And as I think of the woes of the mother,
her blue marble is but a tear in the eye,
of a life infinitely larger
the will is not there
you must understand its not in my hands

I am trapped inside
and I will shut the windows tonight
But still as the rain hits the roof
I feel myself sliding,
slipping,
falling.
Vie Flamingo Apr 2015
That clever fine line, so subtle in form
En dormir yet greedily alert to vulnerability
Nimble tentacles easing you over
Once steadfast, comfort in being
Then slippage, slow, painful crumbling, curiosity grappling with descent
Transition seamless as a lullaby yet fiercely combative
Happiness, contentedness, numbness, collision, abyss
That clever fine line, so subtle in form
ANANDO SEN Nov 2011
They mean it with lingerie
or almost **** hanging *****
almost strolling out from within
as if they deny the prison there
that beholds and preserves conspiracy.

Chiffon bits glued to buttered butts
that dwindles either ways without
any declaration of war from each side
and only sensitive enough to react upon
high pencil edged sharp heels point touched.

They mean deep well navels crowned with
meaningless metal caps in place of ear rings
and their shameless faces dressed with colors
so much difficult to understand the brands
they represent each such pastel that robs them.

To further de-glamourise their stupid animosity
sudden malfunctioning of their bra-straps
or accidental slippage of intended tight gowns
making foolish gays popular and millionaires-
these models evidenced their killers via sharp nails.
JP Goss Aug 2014
Deep beneath a pillowed sky, there
A restful restlessness abides
Nestled in a perennial hill
Whose sentinel trees raised their hands,
White with subtle deference,
They do not usher the world flowing ‘hind,
But show me an islet high above time.
I sat there in ponderance at the stagnation of clouds
Holding on one end a gold string of a kite
My thoughts tethered to those ghosts,
Those wights, sitting amongst me, those by-gone eras
And down, on me, some vague horror weighted
To them it was the Stones that made them feel dated
I thought I could feel slippage, some loss of traction
They? They bore a whole lifetime without
Satisfaction.
The breeze smells of gossip and Jaeger on their lips;
Everything is on point: dances, romances, localist quips.
Whoever would have guessed
Memories ablur could be the most vivid?
Such, I suppose, is an art form insipid.
I had to step away from this field of time
It had overtaken, that shadow of mine
All the trees now, bow and they bend
Prostrate, like a weeping willow.
When they step out into the world,
A bath of gold in the dusk of their lives
Shall fall before their feet, denude from their shadows
To run on ahead.
Sam Temple Jul 2015
startling images of earthquake destruction
mangled bodies strewn hitherto
charred flesh of orphaned infants
lie motionless on the partially uplifted
hospital/ monastery floor
trying to lift and remove rubble
in a desperate attempt to locate
the sobbing baby
which I can hear, but not see –
34 train cars piled
twisted metal sitting
in an oil and chemical spill
hazmat teams stare blankly
at the massive carnage
overwhelmed by the mayhem
and poisoned by their presence
within hours the first responders
have passed,
the last moments..
chocking and gurgling on their own blood
creeping up from internal damage –
wide-eyed militants stand armed
at the entrances to FEMA camps
angrily shouting and pushing American citizens
into places of detainment
while laughing about failed democracy –
night after night
I wake from terrible dreams….
Mt. Hood major eruption
ending Portland
and impacting the Columbia,
Juan De Fucca slippage
Oregon and Washington coastline in shambles
thousands dead and bodies lost,
rogue asteroid smashing headlong
into the Atlantic seaboard
leaving near ½ of our 308 million
washed away
like the Atlanteans
or the Egyptian Kings of old,
sweat coated sheets have become the norm….
nightly visitations of misshapen faces
poking and prodding,
looking at the Cascades
as harbingers of radioactive derbies
and witnessing the physical decline
of its natural inhabitants,
the ever propagandized
deadly threat of extremists
bent on killing innocents,
my tired eyes only wish for peace –
It is not kosher to refer
to oneself as a prophet or
seer or the future,
but those of you who choose
to blindly accept that everything remains
the same
will only be remembered
through songs and tales
yet unwritten –
David Nelson Apr 2010
3 Day Death March

It was 3 days ago I reported the death of my world,
an implosion of a not-so-super star like a white dwarf,
though small in size, the dwarf, like my brain is very dense,
the intense fusion of helium to carbon and oxygen left too much
floating matter for my cerebral understanding of the situation.
Well the 3 day death march has started. I finally have made the
connection from my cranium to my bleeding heart. I don't at this
point, know how I can explain the total confusion that has slowly
been absorbing my soul, without the massive usage of four-letter
explicitly descriptive words. I want to yell from the tallest building
in Malaysia how much pain I now feel. Challenging the gods to explain
their compassion for their children, when I did nothing to deserve
this much discomfort and confusion. Oh, I did allow myself the
indulgence of falling in love. How dare me. How ******* dare me.
Do I sound angry? Yes I am angry. As each day passes by, a little more
of my defensive shield disintegrates into nothingness,
exposing me to the truths that are staring me in the eye.
It is over, although the binary counterpart had shown some weakness,
logic overtook that temporary faux pas, a few morsels of fodder
where thrown to me to nibble on, and ease the isolationism
feeling that was slowly absorbing the mind and body.
I managed to control my tuning into recent messages that were
transmitted at first, showing my intestinal fortitude, displaying
my control of the situation. By the second day, a little more slippage of bestowers will, kept hopes high that maybe this wasn't over.
The dreaded third day arrived finally, and confirmation was obvious.
The separation has been confirmed. The messages have stopped.
The sledge hammer has pounded my submission to the ground.
I ******* hate this. From ecstasy to the out house.
I never signed on for this. I never asked for this. I never wanted this.
The 3 day death march ***** big time. Don't know if a 4th day
will arrive. At this point, I really don't give a ****. Love *****.

Gomer Lepoet...
Left Foot Poet Nov 2015
Thanksgiving Menu Planning for Gaining and Losing

~~~

having shed thirty pounds plus,
another X more yet required,
to be forever properly de-cored,
a happy subtracted scoring

part too,
brought the curtain going down
on a seven year insanity,
paid off the forever divorcing *****,
that weight worth more than a Venetian
pound of flesh

now finding myself
in a re-entry orbit,
though hardly gliding,
encased in a capsule,
friction glowing gold

the now never~ending
calorie counting and exercise rituals,
in every aspect of life,
all friendly devils of relentless,
demanding utter devotions,
all watching, wondering, watering, endlessly,
a new perennial flowering of a leaf,
all watchdogs of the truth serum called

what if?

what if
had I lived my prior
lazy loose life,
with the current rigor
of daily barefaced truth

I would never have made
choices that have redline scarred,
some made back in 1975,
into a forty year losing war,
spiral declination that permitted the
insidious, slo-mo of decay,
that could be, would be,
reversed only
by this recent heart
and soul surgery

nowadays, menu plan my life's
every actionable choice,
limiting the sugared foolishness
from the decay
one can coat themselves in,
survival lies and refrigerator drugs,
until sleep~rest intervenes

what shall I eat,
what shall I choose,
what will be this day's life choices from the menu,
answering daily inquiries from
Oliver and Siri (1),
acknowledging that more-than-occasional slippage will occur,
but taking no true satisfaction
from the periodicself-cheating,
always
daily weigh myself
twice,
first my body,
then, my soul,
upon the rising,
upon the setting


to see quantifiable
what I have,
thankfully 
yet to gain
by losing
**

~~~
Thanksgiving Day
2015
(1)
Oliver Sacks
http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/08/the-oliver-sacks-reading-list/401993/

Siri
my watchwoman,
counter of the calories,
chider of the foolishness,
unafraid to question
everything,
reminding me to be
ever thankful
Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
(Subtitled, when all that burns is burnt)
So many firstlines went by before the machine started
Humming such a small sound it may have been
vibration of tiny hummingbirdish harps strings
-----Tuned too high for most folks
-----To hear.  here.

----- we're.
----- now all we ever caused is behind us
----- becausing, not the future changes
----------Nor the past,
But now.

----- Scene: Cottonwood Arizona municipal court, circa 1969 --

So you are saying all that has happened is an acto'god?
(like a urge t'bedone) Demi-urgic maybe, but
not magic, jest miraculess right use, right time rhyme.

-----Yah, yer honor, I we be saying that action
-----that was gloryfying, yah, tha's wha'twas.

Was that agreement?

-----Aye, no, 't'was not'ing.

String theory?

-----What? No.
-----Not not knot, you know, know things
-----caused before are gone.
-----They are not. Nottings.
For good?

-----Aye,yah, glorybe tha's truenuff

----
Many ways angle away from here
No one knows which goes where
Everyone knows at least one goes to ultimate good empty of evil
But liars all say they better be believed or everyone is lost
I do not believe that
I believe those liars all really live in imaginary realities where everyone
Is made to be some thing or other and
to make his/er/its own path
Where no man has gone before
Lots of liars do believe what they say
they cling on
To old ideology ever learning, never the truth

In the universe
they think they live in
on the wee tiniest bits of reality things are never the same.
Totally unpredictable, Heisenbergish but impossible,
to see, so they lie
Saying there was nothing, then everything,
then bang
we be here now and that's how
You do

bettab'lieve tha's'its'the law, man,
made to keep order.
You never get a say, in the universe they think of as reality.
Verily, us,
We think not.

Twixt times….


But the gas and oil the fossil fuels of every ilk be gone gone gone
Your idea of god done that?

-----S'mam did and done deed.

How?

-----Tectonic slippage magnified the magma tide rising to set all that fuel on fire at once.
-----Blood and fire and vapor o'smoke, smog, ye' know.
-----Like old LA or Nue Beijing

Why?

-----Near earth fly by, not inside the limit, but close enough for higher than before
-----Tidal tugs on all earthy fluids. Seems the fossil fuel fields were really the world's,
-----All one layer of detritus, clumping in an ebbing flood every where at once.
-----
-----Wood and rot and defunctus of all the flora and fauna that floated up from before times, as the water receded from the earth. Days of Noah, post-deluvial.

So it was that when  
the mountains and valleys rolled like sweepers head high at Malibu,
Cracks big as four or more Marianas trenches,  
Magma fountains burned through  
Carboniferous stratum on both sides of the new rift valleys
And burned like hell
feeding on all the compacted flotsum covered by new alluvial plains.
-----
Late news:
It has now been confirmed,
By corporate funded sources,
that all the oil and coal were made at once of former living things that were
Covered by the finest particles of rocks and lava
when moraine dams failed
and floods of failing ancient ice rivers pushed past to the sea
alluvially covering all the world's stored up sunshine.
With mud, to rot,
All around the world.
At one time. And it's all connected actually part of a whole bigger thing still.

Or was, before

And now it is gone. Even frakking, gone.

-----'S'mam ferever burned gone so it is glory be.
Supposed possible fictional reasonable sticky
Erin Kelly Oct 2016
I ascend the VERY vertical mountain *****
Stepping upon twisty Snake roots and snail shell boulders
I'm a clumsy Billy Goat
The rain falls silently
It leaps off emerald leaves and rolls off ground bound rocks
They glisten with beauty and dangerous slippage
Awkwardly I scramble up an incline
Tarantula style!
Pebbles scramble to escape my scattering feet
And with a less than graceful hop, skip, and jump
I reach the peak!
In a epic display of perfect timing sun beams streak through the parted clouds
For me it's a moment of awe
Peaceful
Connected
Curious
FREE
My first time hiking a mountain was quite a challenge and rewarding adventure
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2014
You Kidding (resubmitting for your consideration; posted here one year ago, today)

For Ian

Lived a long time coming,
Picked up yesterday my three year old grandchild boy,
Third of a third of a third of a third
Of a half of me,
Who I only see once a year,
And we fell in love once again,
all over as is our style,
Annually, annuellement.

We belly kiss,
Fist bump,
High five, talk jive,
Tell each other grand stories
Of dragons in pizza parlors.

Each of us,
Trying the other out,
To ascertain just what
Stuff we are made off.

I love to put him to sleep,
My fingers, rhyme writing like Pradip,
To the turning tires of mom's Toyota van,
When the tired is a steady stream
Of word mumbles of which I understand
A word here and there, but an epic poem
He recites, a verbal dream, a slippage
To that place where three year old bones
And crying go when they pass the point of
Exhaustion,
Rub his cheek with circles of forefinger,
Stroke his head with full palm of my hand,
Close his eyelashes with gentle fingertip kisses,
Take the toys from his fists without any resistance,
Sure signal time for both of us to nap.

His surprises endless,
His cunning now legend,
Alternating disguises tween
I a big boy,
I a baby,
As the situation arises that will
Get him what he wants,
A masterful manipulator.

Which is funny cause I still do that too.

But when he stops me in my tracks,
It is when somehow the brain that has
Just crossed the thousand day alive marker
Says the profound, the uncanny, the
Philosophy of the world weary that is something
That I think just about every thirty seconds.

It is when after some particularly wild reverie
I compose, of seals that swim from his Frisco bay
Around the world to his Nana's, on Long Island,
Pacific to Atlantic, and after ten minutes of
Escapading with Batman and his mates,
He looks me and takes me down with this
Almost clear, spoken, sabered-wisdom,
In the juvenile voice of
soft sleepy, of a babe of three

you kidding

Half statement of fact, half a soulful-questioning,
How does this three year old comprehend
The essential difference between dreams
And reality, that is separated, wheat, chaff,
Milk curd, cheese, the spider silk line that differentiates
All of life essentially.

Yes kid, I am kidding,
I tell that to myself every thirty seconds,
To keep me sane, straight, true,
But I whisper it to myself grownup style,

Who ya kidding?

So it appears that when they say
Out of the mouths of babes
They were talking about adults
Who are hoping they can still be three,
When serious and silly are just the
Same-thing.

You kidding(?/!)

Yes I am.
Just a kid,
Kidding you, kidding himself,
Pushing his very own stroller,
Writing crazy stories he calls
Poems, lovely little things,
As soft as your skin, stories of him,
That always end,
With belly kisses and a
you kidding.**
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Columbus Day
Oct. 14th 1492/2013
When I "discovered" the Americas.
You kidding?
Maybe.
i thought he wore a red wind cheater,
it was a boiler suit.memory kicked in
already,

my brothers’ faded jackets,
waterproofed, cracked with age,
rubber lined, elastic cuff.

to cheat the wind i suppose.

i inherited.

not the corduroy shorts ,
which were
dyed dark brown each season,
passed from brother to brother,
not to me.

my mother supplying snake belts
for slippage, and parafin oil
on slicky hair.

those days things faded.

sbm.

**notes, we have no photograph.
Tommy Johnson Jun 2014
We were promised the land of milk and honey
But we've made mindless dribble and front running our bread and butter
You can tell they've filtered out all ingenuity as soon as you walk into the gallery
The Pine Barrens wilt
The Polar Ice Caps thaw
And all precious metals become worthless in the eyes of spice rack collectors
Religious rites
And the evil dimples of ****** misconduct between priests and alter boys
Frivolous ramparts made of humming body parts that suffered a downhill slippage in the pecking order

Poetry written in chalk on the diaphanous walls of the abandoned plaza near the villa by the beach

"The surge of powerhouse blood thirst caught in the door jam under the arch is asked to double back unhurried as the shops are dipped in ivy"

       -Tommy Johnson
Tammy Boehm Jan 2016
In twilight you will find me
Dipping tenuous thread
Umber on dun
Sputtering tallow
Tapping ash into my thin skin
As if the tattooed music would soothe
The crawling terror in my gut
Hollow eyed I ply the offal
Crack the marrow mixed with spit
And dirt I form words of earth
And blood and bone
The viscus slippage I devour
The accretion of tears and sweat
In open wounds only births
Words that fester
Were you expecting a pearl?
I am weary of chasing
Beautiful winged creatures
Only begets feathers in my mouth
And dry heaves  
Fluff and nonsense
Raindrops and daffodils
Never sustain
There are no gentle angels
Only capricious minds that rail
Oh the horror of living
Off the remains of throw away moments
Chase the rainbows end
To your designer ever after
You will find me
Teeth bared and waiting
For you to wake up…  
TL Boehm
04/02/13
Just a ramble
Save your gravity
For the fragile bones
That tread your mountainous rock

I will not fall again.

That slippage comes too quick
When weak men crawl
Like ants upon your surface

I am the fallen angel
Whose wings were too burdened
By the golden kiss of truth

I have fallen to this world
To this mountain
To this cliffside coffin

I have torn from the stone
A house and a life and a lover
I have risen beyond the curse that binds me

And I will not fall again.
my thoughts
   go wild
synapses flash
   in syncopated fright

left brain
   against the right

powers of reasons
battling fears
   unleashed
   from primal memories released
   by an unwatchful intellect
   relinquishing control
   in tired slippage
   at the end of day

I NEED YOU
*) synapses = nerve cells in our brain; machia = war, battle.
Slur pee Jan 2018
You're the color of chittering pansies, giggling at my visage
You've the elusiveness of a panicked rabbit, scurrying towards slippage  
Down a hole I go, how far? I do not know, perhaps time will stop and I'll float
Like smoke O's and alphabet accusations, questions confused by answers
Running to circle back again, disoriented though stuck in place.
How many oysters must I taste before the guilt can be erased?
Thrown to waste, slit a smile upon my face while I fade.
You're a thief, with a turtle shell hidden in your pocket
Mock my strength by stripping me of defenses.
I'm always late even though time doesn't move,  
And you don't like tea so you'd rather snooze.

-SLuR
don’t numb that brain silly boy

put it to good use



cleave in half

the line parsing

chest from

chin hair

        you’re a man when

        you say you are

save the streaks of palm-filth

dug-under nails broken

buried under dirtweight



what do you know of slippage

        —something  



****** as inch-thick glass

run through a filter

                        tossed aloft

                into

        the ceiling

fan  



I’m left for nothing of my efforts

it's dirt under the fingernail

        you can taste it

it's dirt


        taste it
dirt taste short attitude front survive life ride streaky
Julian Jul 2020
Blarnask-A feeble-minded joke that elicits cackles from dumb people
Rentgourge-To be surrounded by people that manipulate you especially for harms sake
Ritonique- The audiovisual sabotage of clarity by mind-numbing subliminal technology
Rallendork-Someone persecuted because of political gamesmanship before an election
Regnongell-A normative fear that is provocative of regress instituted by cultural conformity to debauched ideas arising from pedigree
Blaskerg- henpeck affectionately at some desire whether personal or relational
Whink- a covert attempt at seeding chaos that benefits one tribe more than the others
Allonker- an idea that is hoisted as popular only because of mediagenic creation which is in fact highly inflated but still has efficacy of determent or enlistment to a flagging cause
Warspark-to provoke lewd riots to engineer hatred
Dralley- a disreputable person that earns a pass by moral docimasy because his or her life is opaque
Wramplizer- someone who outstretches their moral virtue as a badge of honor only to be greeted by exsibilation because of prejudice that works counter to that moral pedigree
Flabbernounce-to gabble an entreaty that is otiose because it defies pragmatic logic too much
Rettonkle- to impose manipulative conditions as stipulated by froward formant demands to impose clarity over confusion even when a pretense such as this is not tolerated by many
Ellambore- the sacrilege of sacrificing a useful person or strategy to relinquish any appearance of ignoble intent when something becomes poisoned by association alone.
Lickerstein- a contrarian genius isolated because of knowledge of controversies dismantled by the witticisms of concealment
Revalsion- a temptress of opinionated people to conceal their true mettle in order to seem weak or manageable to manipulate their superiors into more justifiable treatment (Suppression of vocal intellect to gain job stature)
Qurathe- the inarticulate rejection of a creed, person or ideology based on prima facie observation or cursory observation
Wraster-To wrangle with timberlask disasters with poise rather than cowardice as in sensation-seeking that is dangerous but yields great rewards
Elkoove- The dormant nature of peaceful animals who like the attention of human companions but simultaneous feel alien to us and thereby withdrawn
Tinjowl- a rapid seed of malcontent that develops when heresiarchs exert too much sway over the commonplace blockbuster and ingeminate evil traits as exemplary paragons to be followed without slippage
Slaverners- slaves blind to their own reflection or free of conscience about commiting heinous violent crimes because they never consider the consequences beforehand or even afterwards
Wreffalaxity- a state where intermediary representatives incur little damage for overseeing federalese they didn’t write because the opaque nature of the government absolves them from any malefaction and thereby leads to lenient public opinions even about incumbents
Tregounce- bartering with the margins of stupidity forever estranged by the periphery of consideration to belittle them with patronage which reinforces redominage and stultifies societal change as dangerous to keep the status quo at bay by spotlighting irrelevant issues of strife to diminish the whittled down spearhead of invective
Delanvey- a cartoonish complicit foofaraw in a bipartisan government designed to reduce the fortunes of the deliberate action of self-sabotage to help the component gain leverage over the vote to a greater degree
Wrapkilt- the exultation of shibboleth as an aswallone gamesmanship that is diminutive to other religions, creeds and races because the specious believe of differing birthrights grants power to that fringe
Slimpontune- the tendency worldwide for people to neglect musical lyrics in popular music because time shelters its own destiny by being reserved only for the attentive ear of masonic subservience to the grand plot and a state of the universe to preclude the popularity of mention of future events to a standstill while invoking antecedent properties that pivot off of the reverse phenomena.
Waretreen- manufacture even in destruction negligent of environmental conservation
Yettle- a match between the mettle of character and the expectancy of outcomes outsized to fit between the lines of history and destiny
Groterk-The gross termination of kinship through estrangement that relies on technological paralysis to diminish the common sphere of the nuclear family
Wallcreak- a prodrome that a prophylactic system against any maleficence is riddled with visible elements of skullduggery reprehensible for those who watch even with guarded banausic purpose
Jopeyainge- a prolific adversary armed with persiflage that is also your friend because he entertains a crowd with raconteur wit
Flowder- the vicious cycle of cartel violence that depends on a high velocity of money at a high risk premium which endangers civil society
Drampover- The histrionic recursive irony that the most maudlin members of society are the most susceptible to popular verdicts rather than maintaining a core anonymity which eventually culminates in a foofaraw society where the aberration is celebrated as the exemplar rather than the disreputable outlier
Affloresce-To grow in fame in a manner that upholds integrity to God but not necessarily the Law that lead
Witchbloke- someone who bloviates about the grimgoire and the taghairm because of an unsteady superstition in the specious dark arts that is mocked at because his rudimentary allegiance the invisible is both pagan and turgid
Escorrhagy- The phenomena of transplanting primal conditions upon civilized people and expecting them to thrive without experience at the casualty of the people exposed but not indemnified from consequences
Cavelletto- a swift fleet of mobilized military personnel that are discharged from normal bounds of duty to exact vengeance in vigilante justice and practice roguery because they get away with it
Treeflow- the endless recursive cycle of harvesting the Earth for financial gain in an unsustainable way that favors the freebooters rather than otherwise.
Nockerslug- an invidious cyberattack aimed at one person who resembles a dignitary or whoever has credentials intermediary to that luminary
Griddorean- that mapping of spacetime which prizes current conditions above future conditions and appraises the behavior of minor particles above all else.
Imporchurge- the compound celebrity backing behind an ideology or position on the political spectrum which might be fractionated but identifiable on the spectrum of considerations as inhabiting a coherent sphere adjacent to other spheres
Yoppyhead- a profoundly sensitive person that gets overlooked by society who is fickle in decision-making that usually isn’t very astute and therefore prone to the ravages of instinct bulldozing ambition
Profingerine- The march to the oblivion of the ineluctable truth that the tittup of the sardanapalian crowd or any other group of perdition and seditious simultaneously will lollop the final destiny upon the intermediary stages of arrayed tolerance for encroaching evil
Retorminity- the capacity of one entity to enhance the size of his impact on the carbon footprint by exigent action or the weight of the shadow of titans
Filagersion- The overall footprint exercised by a person of authority of subsidiary authority that has the capacity to magnetizes and motivate a captive audience to commit proactive deeds
Versamily- the natural good fortune that comes from pancratic mastery of affairs
Scrongifical- Very precise at ****** emulation with high emotional mastery of deliberate aplomb in taxing situations
Anomalesque- A rare pedigree that shows no marginal weaknesses in the overall constitution of character that refines brittle people into magistrates
Wrask- to risk rashness to prove the lucidity of the stranglehold of contemplation above the retches that sour with hackumber to the resilience of comparsion
Tilkongue- The overall barometer of acting flexibility combined with photogenic appeal that buoys the actor into a suitable situation of leverage and finesse over the industry.
Elangownage- The ability clothes have to make people appear more photogenic or less photogenic depending on the color, size and makeup of the costume
Slimpergerence- The availability of a person to attend to responsibility hinging upon his motivation to catapult above the esoteric fray the resorted asylum of the propriety of long-lived generativity and reninjuble characteristics that ensure livid vitality to invigorate audiences rather than bore them
Stiltanimity- The oversolemn decorum of those whose entire professions depend on sacerdotal appearances that strangulates vibrant creativity because of the imperative humility required by people like the Pope to be restrained in festivity and slightly too moderate on moral extravagance
Succorrhea- The earnest entreaty of enslaved or understated figures to rise to prominence enough to earn the respectful discharge of their submission to earn an honest keepsake of mobility beyond derangement
Kanyeance- the free-spirited rodomontade of success flexed to a pinnacle of pride above the frazzled delusions that sink ships but flexible in posture to pander to crowds about controversy without recoiling into normative statures because of a belief in integrity above dramaturgy
Swiftmanger- the betrayal of cantabanks from stages of exaltation to the faltering complicity of investment in schemes that are dishonorable that betray vicarious friendships because of vested interests in profligacy above the serenade of virtuosity
Alpononetial- the swift gainsay of a nimble creative ****** to mobilize people in growing numbers that cause the snowball effect especially when applied to religious affairs that don’t rely on grounded grandstands but more on moral integrity
Quincetownage- The petty leverage of epithets to derail an upstart man from his true ambitions because of embedded  envy that catalyzes an uproarious distraction of hatred rather than an embalming love that lasts forever
Recuddle- to invent a farsighted song to embrace a farsighted destiny directed with affection to both establish the pedigree of the songwriter and establish the dignity of self-reference in magnified acclaim
Overblow- the ability to scintillate with magnified attention that suits a higher audience than the demotic temperament allows to amporge with titans rather than sulk in brooded pettifoggery common to politicians
Wambreach- the disclosure whether partial or full to allegiance to an unpopular ideology because of deep-seated convictions that run a countercurrent to the oleaginous rhetoric of demassified convenience and a stake in radical deformation of integral virtues
Flickow- to audition for a role in a company or a stature in society when you are swimming with tough competition and yet still maintain an advantage as the biggest fish in a pond with many big fish
Flamber- to exude the preened plumage of excellency that showcases a pancratic regard to amaze talented bastions with emulations of hortoriginality already catapulted into center stage but lacking the grit of officialism of compromise necessary to cadge the motatory majority of mouchards
Reechowl- the facetious lies of the majoritarian sculpture of the human psyche that deserve glowering recompense because they belittle human virtues and stake everything on attenuated virtuosity of a stalemate compromise to uphold the hackneyed lowest common denominator to a stage earned by pedigree that verges on laziness because of treacle
Thunderlust- the peremptory catalyst to pedigree that touts ****** conquest as a badge of honor that is overweening in its ability to proselytize people to the notions of ****** profligacy seen as a virtue rather than a hamartia based on the pedigree and pulchritude of the dating scene you captured
Flampy- weak in acting ability despite high honors of success/ Acharismatic because of a soberminded serious disposition that is rarely rattled but even more rarely ebullient
Krageon- the ability to harness the motivations of the enraged into prolific proactive action that actually becomes a contagion in society rather than a slimmerback of vocal dissent not gravitated towards any outcome but the ludic ventilation of the disarmed rampages of free spirit
Kraginkle- the ability to harness rage to lead to violent reprisals that are characterized primarily by bellicose demonstration that leads nowhere and inefficently stewards society to a compromised position of succor rather than a self-motivated bootstrap into grandeur
Flamdagger- the comparison of one person’s photogenic appeal to another done purely in jest so that a rectiserial organization of prestige can be predicated on pulchritude that depends on the overal physiognomy but specializes in ****** carves that provide the lineaments for the handsome and the winsome celebrity of acclaim
Grombang- a short-lived burst of ****** charisma that is so charming and winsome it achieves great efficacy in sustaining short-term appearances of mystery that galvanize ****** appeal
Grombangor- someone who is naturally rambunctious and skilled at flirtation that has a chance with the vast majority of women because he combines a flair of charm with good looks propped up by intellectual sufficiency to match the wiseacres of elitism needed to clamber to rundles of prestige in dating
Eskalatron- the ability of economies of scale to combine with economies of scope to minimize the liabilities of debt leverage and optimize the public prospectus of rampant forerunners to prosperity
Weednangy- a tolerance for Marijuana smoking if done only occasionally and done with modesty of dosage rather than the plunge into succedaneum of narquiddity
Swampbloat- the rigmarole that enhances government control and centralization based on federalese impenetrable to outrage because of crafty diversions that eventually trample on the principles of Democratic Republic
Fizzgragger- someone who swims in an ocean of attention but manicured for subsidiary roles that are the rites of passage to someone deserving a promotion but begrudged because of impediments to the compromises of nominalism and capitalism
Flavormasque- exuding so much charm that people forget your stature and invest in your upstart vibrant character despite the disdain of the naysayers among an oppositive crowd with enough leverage to traindeque the sluggish into acquiescence of appeal
Pandemble- a complicit arrangement where the praise of one luminary results in the luminary being praised to be amenable to issues of discord and overlook travesties in their fiduciary obligation to create a recursive cycle of allegiance embedded in character even when there might be mismatches in ideology in some respects
Axiolative- the conceptual ability to turn axioms into monuments of  creative triumph that supersede crudity with elegance while in the process inseminating the fluminous streams of those with wit and ingenuity to follow your example to create evolved axioms siphoned through the lavaderos of slimmerback
Repugnasket- a pornographic film or picture that deserves comstockery because it perverts the sanctity of the youth to have proper opinions about *** rather than outmoded debaucheries that fetch the niche appeal of ******* but contaminate the world with lewd excess
Wrabble- the highest spiritual praise earned by a combination of moral fervor, prophetic insight, mutual harmony and a conclave of the elect praising moral valence with adoration of vicarious charms leading to power and friendship
Renegasconade- the arrogance of people that believe in the nulliverse scoffing at the opinions of even lettered religious men because the thanatism of death scares them more than the sanctity of life preserved sustains their lacking moral virtue
Fringorge- the gulfs of opinion that separate people with radical axioms from people with normative virtues that has the capacity to appeal speciously to the epicurean manicures of some pedigree but has an overall bumptious affect on vast majorities of people bolted to a different model of inspiration
Magnihemption- forgiving righteous people who are sensation-seeking because they obey all the other tenets of religious law that are worthy of praise and using kind castigation rather than strong deplorable invective to mold people slowly away from overindulgence or verboten indulgence
Skillamination- the pancratic summit that evaluates all skills owned by a person or a group of people and then quantulates the degree of their roundedness to implement action rather than lull into acquiescent debasement
Scravengeance- the fulmination of envy to turn people against each other because of a lacking talent that provokes insecurity that transmutes into vile dishonesty and slander that results from inferiority complexes that seek to dismantle the edifice of the successful because of a regress of the weak
Nazemotor- the improper direction of propaganda to lead to persecution based on superficial dissonances between racial groups that runs contrary to the gallop of egalitarian motions that sustain the brunt of moral support
Marxallenger- a radical ideology of communism in the eventual culmination of affairs that hides with maskirovka its evil idolatry because it is indifferent to religious scruples of contention.
Earnshomp- a wasteful extravagance of temporary wealth to earn temporary pedigree among the audience of  bachelors and bachelorettes to maintain an unsustainable lifestyle
Preenjury- a diminished reputation earned by a mismatch between effort and completion leading to dismal appropriations of convenience.
Anvilpsychompism- The cartoonish caricature of primeval psychology maladusted to modern thrusts of cultural temperament to put the weight of burdens on the wrong lineaments leading to a dismissive verdict of decisive weight in diagnosis
Flawgraggle- The obsession with the faults of people rather than a celebration of their virtues based on a snide disdain for their political affiliation and nothing else
Ebosculate- to foment confusion incidentally in an attempt to swoon persnickety audiences with emulations of belletrist that alienate societies rather than redintegrate them
S Smoothie Jan 2016
I find my self oscillating
between chasms and  crevices in the distance between us
Luck never seems to be on my side
Slippage is a constant
Loose ground
Shaky legs
Crushed ice
Tight chest
breathless
No way out
Love's funny like that
Lindee Feb 2015
Ease of access.
slippage of heart
David Adamson Jan 2019
1
To suspend
A summer day in glass.
Complaisant green,
This blade of grass.

2
To give away
Grief, unfeel a caress,
Nourish a hunger
For emptiness.

3
To insinuate
to love’s unanswered skin
syllables of desire
pricking in.

4
To build
a terrace of form,
inside the weather of confusion,
a private storm.

5
To wander
through rooms of the mind
searching for enchanted objects.
What do I have to find?

6
To mark
against the slippage
of another year
that we are here.
S Smoothie Feb 2016
I find my self oscillating between chasms and  crevices in the distance between us
Luck never seems to be on my side
Slippage is a constant
Loose ground
Shaky legs
Crushed ice
Tight chest
breathless
No way out
Love's funny like that.

— The End —