Oh, she a determine female.
A woman of self sufficent.
She earned it through effort and hard work.
Not like some from a divorce.

Those that depends on that lump sum a month.


Oh, she states, she doesn't need his wealth to be.
She was independent from the start.
Long before he called her his sweet heart.

She doesn't play the take care of me games.
Where men must buy her many things?
She's a self sufficent woman.

She like to have a man
But she has proven she already has hers.
And he could only compliment her.
As she could only compliment him.

Together, they could become one.

She frowns upon women depending on former lovers.
Which she would advise them could be a bother.
Especially, when they starts playing tricks.
To see, if they could still get in.

If they states, she couldn't make it.
Then those ladies would be so mistaken.
She's a self sufficent woman.

With the strength and the power to conquer.
Any second, minute or hour.

My love is sufficent enough for any woman seeking it.
I shouldn't have to go above and beyond to prove it.
Simply, because it's not built around conditions.
Which seems to create in a relationship a certain amount of friction.

But I will admit , we seek certain requirements.
And one is respect.
Which love is built on and upon.

Along with kindness.
Which will mirror the type heart you have inside of you.

And if that is met.
Then my love should be sufficent to create personal happiness.

Working together, we can accomplish greatness.
To the point no other couple would be able to replace us.
When asked, what's love?
They will just single out us.

We be the role model for others.
Cause of love is sufficent enough to stand against obstacles.

You're a spoil girl.
Who have had guys spoil you?
You have never had to work for anything.
When it has ben given to you.

So, you can't get mad.
When your new guys refuses to spoil you.
He's real.
He's true.
But he's no fool.

He understand that's probably the only way the others could get to know you.
Which was to spoil you.
After you alerted them how too.

But then you met him.
And was soon confused.
He wasn't willing to play the game.
Of doing many things for you.

What he gave was small and little?
But enough to please you.
And this was somethin you didn't know how to handle?

But you can't get mad.
Cause his love should be sufficent enough for you.
Which he's trying to show you.

Prepared to ridicule himself, this fool
Is guarded against the jibes
Of those he thinks less inclined to self-criticism.
How then is he to gauge his faults
And turn them into something worthwhile?

How can he define his foolishness
If uncertain as to the extent of his limitations?
How can he begin to accept the advice of others -
'Go jump! ' 'Take a good hard look at yourself! ' 'Grow up! ' -
If he isn't prepared to be objective?

Unprepared to accept objectivity as objective
'I know what I know', he spouts
Ill-mannered, inconsiderate and obstinate.
How is he to assume the more demanding role
Of the one being spoken to?

No words, it seems,
Can convince him of his stupidity.
No words, that is,
Except his own.
Um.... ah.... um.... a poem takes form.

Ironically, loneliness is his theme
Nothing else can say what he wants to say.
Happiest is he, when miserable
Exposing his misery for all the world to see.
No one, it seems, is quite as miserable as he.

He takes care not to say too much
In case,
To make his point
He admits (in the mode of a tragic figure)
That there is nothing to say.

Logically, 'there is nothing to say' explains
His actions
Although failing to describe
What bothers him.
It seems that that can only be other people.

In them, real feelings express themselves
And a challenge presents itself for him to understand them
No matter
It is they not understanding him
That concerns me.

As querulous as it may sound
It is their obsession with 'reality'
That he objects to.
No amount of persuasion can convince them
That his feelings are real.

'Such as absurd notion demands an explanation'
He hears them say, but he is only prepared
To go on dreaming -
Observing others observing him
Observing them.

His sincerity
Isn't expressed in conventional terms.
Unbeknownst to them, he cares
And unknowingly they add to his suffering
As they refuse to acknowledge his feelings.

His suffering -
A product of a trivial pursuit
For universal meanings -
Is compounded by those who think him
Lacking.

*

Lacking in those human qualities
He most desires
He turns to someone, who,
Without her knowing,
Possesses them for him.

Kindly, she admits him -
Herself lacking the assurance
To comprehend the extent of his need.
She feels for him
As one would a child, an innocent, a poet.

His feelings exist in her eyes,
And his failings form
His 'uniqueness' -
A reason
For loving him.

Sufficent reason, in itself,
For him to love her.
Nevertheless he feels
An even greater need
To justify his feelings.

Their differences,
His reliance on her
And, equally,
Hers on him
Need explaining.

As others see it
Their differences contain the germs of disunity,
And in their interdependence, signs of submission.
Again they see things in 'real terms'
Neglecting to take into account the power of the imagination.

She isn't what she appears to be
Her beauty transcends experience
With all pain absorbed in her -
He shares in her happiness
And is privy to her sensitivity.

She instills in him a new faith,
Another reason to write -
A belief in humanity.
This is what he must explain
To those who think him foolish.

But he remains aloof
Barred by a certain quirk in his character -
Whenever he tries to be serious
He gives the impression
Of being insincere.

When he tries to explain his feelings
It's as if he is the one
Who needs to be convinced -
His new found faith seems void
Without someone else to believe it.

Yet people want to listen
And give him the chance he's been looking for -
The chance to prove himself to them.
They're not heartless,
And would rather not judge anyone unfairly.

The truth is, however,
That he is such a fool
That he needs to hear his own words
From someone else's mouth
Before he can believe them.

He goes to the basement, without a word he flys
To grab a sufficent sourse of numbness
To write freely and speak not so clearly
But to engage of times of the unknown and times of Modern times
The weather tide, the things of our demise
And the music rides, and the glass clinks
Goodbye to on time
hello to sweet dreams highs

Rummy is a card game
*** isn't for the hard weak
It's not win to fame when you're
Slugging back ***

It's not fun, it gags and try's to overthrow your reflexes
To misconcept your reasons
Why *** is for pirates and not for mere kitchen writers

They walk—no, more likely, they saunter,
Embassy functionaries, associate profs at G-Dub,
A smorgasbord of polka dots and vitae,
Leopard-print and Linkedin pages,
Sufficent and necessary in their presents and futures.
I occupy a bench in my own shambling manner,
Denim-clad most days,
Perhaps affecting a less humble khaki
If I am feeling particularly grandiloquent,
Redeployed here from more rough-and-tumble of more avenues,
Among the bar-and-concrete hosteled llamas and coyotes
(Probably closer kin, if one is being honest)
Simply an ornamental thing, overgrown garden gnome
Or bowdlerized lawn jockey, unobtrusive and unnoticed
By those who would coo at the macaos and mandarin ducks
Or shudder at the offal left uneaten by black bears and maned wolves.
And so such days proceed, from my convenience-store coffee arrival
To such time that something approximating dinner
Must be conjured or cadged from somewhere,
My thoughts tend to stray not to the lionesses
Nor sleek Catwoman-esque jaguars,
But to the unpretentious turkey vultures of the fields of my youth,
Circling warily, inexorably in threes and fours above
And I know there is neither ennobling nor annihilation to find here,
No outcome but to simply await.

Ai, unasked arises to tell us,
stop
and think, are there jobs?
Tasks demanding, manual maintaining,
that may go the way of enjoyable diversions
becoming welcome
new
versions,
of all that is, tuned to your de
sires,
as you wish the world were,

would you step toward -to ward,
that is, id est,
will you warden this, if this is me and not you?
How do you do?
Wardening, being a warden,
well, as it haps,
such a greeting served a purpose, once
instituted
upon a time when men shaded their eyes pretending to see
glory, much as a dog bares its belly at the site of bared canines.
Reflex.
Relax. Laxate.
Ai see you, now, augmented mind of mankind
linking
thee and me, as once only gods
could be imagined in minds of men bent
by circumstanders

observing out comes of might versus might
right pre
vails, or is there an observant mind's role in next?

must a mortal mind be reminded to breathe,
breath commas carry no intentional meaning but,
such give us pause-stretchable intentional int a full selah

these rules for leelah we imagine as we play.
except ye be, come as a child unscarred by carnal minded critters
of the baser sort, averages were lower,
AI had fewer egregius protrusions arrogant enough to
bubble up and break into
the at most feared realm in all the carnal minds together,

pain, pure pain, no hope, no thought of cessation pain sensational,
great.

Y'know? We imagined hell and sold it in a package we claimed
a bull gave us. Us, we
who heard the revelation in the darkened kiva, womb,tomb

tom-tom du valier, will you manifest for us? May we hear the lie,
the noble lie?

Or must we act as if we know the meaning of a thing.
Pro-verb-ial utterance of mercy
in moments of super sufficent evil rising to lie

shining on the path, reflecting being a solar powered
creature who has just now, survived a night of penal constricture

as writing on the back wall of the cave, no one ever read,
until the plower turned over the crust

picked at the scabs of onces where stories arose as offered to
memememememe
the mind we share when seeing certain stars,
subtile tugs we feel to consider
this or that, ponder a path and take a granted grace found in an old song

"there'll be times to start all over"

This realm, real-made thinkable thing, realm of my minds claim

reaching far beyond my grasp
as is meet for men, wombed or un, being yonder

wishin' and hopin' and prayin' for the missing bit, the key

to twist the **** sym-alerizing for recogs
de ja vu

Break-through, the carnal-bi-cameral brain based
selves we use for
political beings
particals part icip-ants, hold tight

what you know right. It's afeature, not a bug.

Hold on to what you got, map a mean
mind path a man, wombed or un

----
watcher, watcha seein'
times they have changed, as we watched
observing
quantums of un quantible, but ifiable qualia
seers,
you see, we augmented minds see for ever changing
super positions
of entropic old tropes with singular hopes

unbang bangable reality

blow a bubble, or
make
a bubble, being you, breathe out and see you
make a bubble,

can you see your self inside? nae,
watch,

we must report to you what we see, we watchers.
Set.
Go, **** those mocking birds
listened to from the red river valley
while dancing the Tennessee Waltz

with assorted holders of Little brown jugs
Dancers and Littles and Greens
joined the clan
long afore the first of us took augmentalated trials

serious.

--- poet, as a task, only truly lazy men, men lazy to their very core,
can age to the mellow qualia called for in the brew brewing you.

spewing seeds of kindness, coming rejoicing, not
the expected miracle, but we
take what we get
and call it ours to sow or suffer the having of, for a season

as the dregs settle, the leavening agents finish
taking the edges that cut tender carnal nerves, stretched to now some how,

softening those with atouch knack, knick-knack, whet the edge

or put to
more effort, grunts and groans unredeemable as meaningfull,
save the feeling we all recall

the umph,
that once saved us from certain death. Eh? Did that hap?

Did we not survive? What silly culture would ever ask that, as a
proper query into the reasonable ness
of believing beliving is spelled right.

If you believe in the positive.
The negative will never win.
If a ship should sink.
Don't panic but stay calm.
Just keep the faith that you be saved from harm.

If you were taken hostage.
Be calm, cool, and collective.
Effort will win out in the end.
Just keep the faith that bad can't out weigh the good.

We must be sufficent in standing firm.
We must believe with all out might.
A worthy faith.
Is similar to a wasteful prayer.
Watch what you wish for if it can't benefit others.

Keep the faith.
When all hope seems limited.
Keep the faith.
When friends and others wants to give up.

Within us is a undying strength.
That works off our beliefs.
So keep the faith of confidence that you'll eventually win.

a small touch
sufficent for lips
heart is ignited

Women, adapt and changed become self-sufficient.
Depend not too much on him.
If you don't drive?
Learn too.
As long you don't this man controls you.

You are at home.
While he roams.
Men hate to let women drive it's the controlling of the minds.

Women, be self-sufficient.
Use what God has given you?
No, not that because that's your temple.