Time frame trackers permit staff with the idea to passively or by hand monitor time frame these people used jobs, jobs, along with get the job done. Inside the basic form, the idea shows an electronic digital alternative connected with cardstock timesheets.

While a good many providers continue to depend upon guidebook operations plus excel spreadsheets to trace moment, these kinds of procedures can be erroneous and hard in order to range. Together with reduced profits with billable time, malfunction to help properly trail moment can lead to undesirable facts, reducing ability to produce crucial small business judgements.

Plus, these people, one of the primary troubles is that checking your time and efforts takes time.

Time frame trackers automatic systems accomplishing this, reduce human being mistakes associated with tracking work as well as absences, plus track efficiency.

How you can Compare Time period Trackers

Incorrect time period monitoring contributes to unwanted at an increased rate, undesirable setting up, imprecise quotations, surpass finances, incorrect pay-roll, or perhaps canceled projects. Which has a best time system, you could make sure your firm offers trusted, appropriate details, that can help recognize along with get rid of complications early on. Also, the workers received spend more time tracking hrs along with do the job compared to obtaining elements performed.

Time frame tracking may help your enterprise maximize work productivity, since enterprise can observe just what exactly operations or even exercises bring about wasted occasion. Many methods automatically connect time to help accounts as well as produce exact expenditures with different predetermined fee minute card.

Conversely, if you would like a lot more ease projects or even personnel supervision versus the capabilities over present, take into consideration a project management software foundation using solid period tracking functionality.

Time frame system which in turn really helps your organization ought to include these functions:
Addition together with project management, data processing, CRM, along with Hours computer software
Details transfer to be able to documents like: .pdf file, Exceed, .csv, among others
Information significance using apps
Unlimited jobs
Custom billing steps
Purchase pursuing
Reports Or Google analytics
Course non-billable time frame
Career priced at stories
Compensated vacation time (PTO)
Vacation checking, attendance/absence control
Monitor offline time frame Or not doing anything timeout
Project/task-based moment tracking
Dashboards by using real-time coverage
Intelligent warns (work deadlines, in the long run, appointments, and so on.)
Activity categorization resources, for instance paying attention to or maybe coloration coding
Customer or even role-based stability
Details copy Local plumber trackers present an breakdown of the office or personnel. With CrocoTime time frame unit, you will notice that is presently doing work, the full hours worked well in a selected period of time, what are the most recent worker hobby seemed to be, and so on. The time tracker presents reports and this can be easily generated along with said to consumers, operations, or perhaps operatives.

http://www.passwordmanagers.net/products/Windows-Password-Recovery-Software-1.html Windows Password Recovery Software

what is this mind that was given to me that is able to see things i print on screen with my digital zip drive of a brain that is stuck inside a laptop main frame, ******* server uploading and crashing sending pings and things to hackers who perform doss attacks and web cracks and serial cracks while eating cereal going over javascript material program landslide juno got bit by emails and other technical software jargin computer guy got the blue screen of death corruption on the web the spider metacrawling and setting it on angelfire i google the facebook twitter and hot wire my car on the trader the wall street journal and the white house, **** sites and white owls, getting arrested and being hired by the government, the money's spent, criminal punishment, in cells locked up no breakfast but lunch under the crack of a door inside ur naked ***, on irc chat, the warez rat, pirates on bays and whispers from kittens, brown paper packages exploding a smidgeon, binary, metamorphosis, code program gold, warning anti virus and spywares, baghdad to china, spy on private, eyes on cameras, cell phones like trackers, global position mappers, predator drones, video games, nfl madden, mad men, and happy wal marts, hacking wal mart, with social engineers, traveling the silk road with a cloak ip address revoked

Today was grocery day.
I didn't want frozen pizzas or chips.
I wasn't looking for juices or dips.
All I was looking for were crackers, And crackers Is what I got.
Three boxes of Wheat thins.
The family sized Cheeze itz game me grins.
Tons and tons of triscuit crackers.
Gliding across the stores bar code trackers.
But best of all was my glorious box of Chicken in a Biskit.

I asked him
                    the old one
how to  t-r-a-c-k and trap
find
      fine  
             l    i    n    e    s
                                      in fresh dirt
                                                          s ­  i   f   t    through the carrion
                                                         ­ they did not devour
                                                          ­                                  s   m   e   l   l    the droppings
                                                                ­                            to know even more
                                                            ­                                of their sacred work

even with his eyes closed
                                          he knew
                                                         but did not say
                                                         that I am among
                                                         the lazy learned
                                                         ­ who did not see
                                                                ­                    the p-r-i-n-t-s
                                                                ­                    I leave,
                                                                ­                    and the ones I read
                                                            ­                        are also
                                                                ­                    t-r-a-c-k-s
                                 ­                                                              that may lead
                                                                ­                                               to traps

Like a treacherous jungle, the world shaped its self to resemble the untamable, unforgiveable, and unimaginable creature that pounced on every crest of supple, innocent victim’s souls only to be dragged miles through painful, elongated trenches, and then expended in its entirety to recommence restructure in all new patterns of mutilated destructed forms; completely rearranged and in search for the light to guide culpable souls into worthy positions with better conditions and purer intentions.

From the inception, slithering wildly the legendarily discreet elapid serpent anticipated the fierce panthera. What was thought as a tyro odyssey, was underrated, uncreated, and translated to total transformative, love abated, accommodative, grief impregnated, planes alternated, affirmative gamboling games.

As a barbarous being, all and every cutthroat, bloated, anecdote of overdrawn, theatric fervor entered this imprudent, illuminated, and aggregated thing to fill unanswerable questions and unexplainable connections by intersecting other frantic, energetic, idiosyncratic reoccurring addicts with realms of disintegrated, hardheaded, nerve racked dreams.

The exterior scaled, degenerated able soul entangled and sacrificed minded controlled logic against the mystic, enigmatic, acidic beast. Pushing forward in the battle of cosmic evolution, a mistake making, empathic fool, inflicted from predicated illusions of heart wrenching, exploding, brooding agape for aspired end resulted, expanded frontiers.

What the scrawny, deluded fool missed were the all purposeful and most numerable senses that embrace every now where infinity spirals out related creation in the ever expandable universe that all the scavengers, hoarders, trackers, hunters, carnivores, herbivores, and the water possessed serpent misuse every now and now and now and now and again to address the real issues that are eschewed, abused, and viewed as insignificant tools that could never resolve unbearable fights within things, beings, or feelings of desertedness.

Miscommunication is everywhere and nowhere. Uncontrollable senses are everything and nothing. A constant fight within and without means nothing. Nerves we suppress and addictions we abuse. All to fill a space that exists at uncontrollable rates and lighting speeds. What is strategic logic without perceived cognizance? This is constant tumultuous idleness, sacrificed thoughtlessness, crude awareness, and unmanageable apprehension only exploited to rationalize a beast with labels, feeble doubts, to dwindle realities, and to fuel the unpeaceful balance.

The brute, that the restless, powerless, and distrustless serpent inhabited welcomes the transformative living immortal beings into the now of the hare who weakens the logic to lessened and opened tempos of the lines, spaces, and levels of the all and great smash of vast, immense potentiality of authenticity.

Submitted: Apr 6, 2010    Reads: 22    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   


Intro, Intrude, trackers on our homephones. Smack dat back
We got the shacks we gotta cadilacs. We have the beat boys. Just to show off to our audience. Life so great we got to slow it down by running the white house like where tearing up an igloo. Hang out in the cribs we 100 percent juice. Only talent better get it. Like Shaq oneil as V.I.P. We got a thing and we can't stop M.I.B with a top collar buttoned. Skin so thick you think we're eskimos.  Just couple  American, Tryin to make a livin. With old time guitar strolls with a beat that can rip ya socks off. Were rappers and were rockin it. Bring it to the times when lifes all good nobody hurt us yeah everyone will honor we in the hood

Chorus:
Government rock, Government, jump up to the clouds. Spread the waves with your arms. Spread your love wit ya hearts
--------
Beatbox with politics. Were pumping out america with this Punk block. Echoing of the top of the oval office. Let see it Hillary dance till the votes come tumbling in. Bling bling rap so hard where dancing on pots of gold get tangled in the silly putty. You know whatta I mean ice so keen while the girls stay thin. Spreading there white glow from their mouths and I love when they show it to everyone around them. Someday wheaties box gotta sell our records with the cereal the kids love to eat for breakfast. They'll Call us the 3 with the platinum series. But between you and me we all the same. Just different trades Our grillz shining to the stars on stage.
This is the sound, this is the show. Gotta turn it up like the volume on our sterio. Cheerion Cheerion, Bring it on.
With our political right. We vibe white house all night.
Mouth so dry slurring with the  sting of our words.
Around we come again. There we roll again. Bringing the band in the

Chorus
Government rock, jump up to the clouds. Spread the waves with your arms. Spreed the love with ya hearts. Wax on wax off. With karate man.
------
We gotta a brand named band, don't know about us.
We no loser. Just a little closer. Making a way to train this place to fame. Want my card yo. Got to drive to elderado. In a mustang, baby. Thats right you heard me.

Can i hear an amen Yo its like nobody knows. What indwells in the sounds we place on our miches. And the times we get the power. To scramble the crowd singing louder. Everyone floating on there toes. Like tap dancers. Don't make type error whe nyou report to the news. Theres the president now break prancing switch om a pirate ship. Aint no soul left out alone

Wolves in winter


Jan 8, 2012, 12:43:53 PM by ~OmegaWolfOfWinter
Journals / Personal




Nocturn and Elora dug their teeth into the carcass of a freshly killed deer, dragging it into the trees before tearing at the tough skin, tasting the red meat inside. the two wolves had not eaten in 3 days, but this was often the way of things for wolves in the far north. they had hidden from the invading two-legs, furless cowards who attacked them from afar. the deer had wandered too far from the herd and was easily brought down by the wolves. Nocturn looked at his mate, a wild look in his eyes as blood dripped from his white fangs. he found himself engulfed in the instincts that caused them to mate. so close to the fresh ****, they satiated the hungers of their bodies. the snow around them stunk of wolf, multiple fluids casting scents about them, along with the metallic smelling blood and the smell of pine. they ate of the deer once again, staining their fur with blood. the blizzard
was building up and the wind threw off the scents of everything, including the strong bear scent Coming from behind the wolves. the bear growled deep in its throat and roared, charging the wolves and challenging them for the carcass. the bear barreled through them, knocking elora aside with a strike of its claws, knocking her into a tree with deep gashes in her shoulder. nocturn growled and jumped onto the bear's back, sinking his fangs into the bear's neck and scratching at the heavy fur. the bear grabbed nocturn by the scruff of his neck and threw him against a tree, knocking his head against the trunk wwith a dull thunk. nocturn saw stars and then nothing.
*  *  *
when nocturn woke up, he heard the soft whimpering cries of his mate and he jumped to his feet, searching desperately for her. he found her, half buried in snow and bleeding. nocturn dug her out frantically, seeing how she shivered against the blizzard winds. he whimpered and pressed up against her, lending as much body heat as possible. "leave... me... nocturn.."
he looked at her, fear plastered on his face.
"I'll never leave you, youre all i have." he nuzzled against her and whimpered again.
"the bear... broke something inside... inside me... i wont survive the night..." her voice was weak and shaky. her white fur was ******, and he cared not that his own black fur was covered in it as well. "i'll never leave you, elora. we are mates, you and i."
elora smiled slightly before coughing, the most painful cough as blood sprayed from her maw. "when i die... return to the pack and let them know..."
"elora..."
"its... time..."
"please dont leave me..."
"search for me... in the stars... my love..." her eyes began to close.
"elora. please... dont go..."
"i love you..." her eyes shut completely, and she breathed her last breath.
"elora?... elora!!" he nudged her body helplessly. "elora..." he stood slowly, staring at his paws,"this shouldnt have happened..."
he raised his head and howled, long and slow,mourning the loss of his mate. when the storm cleared, a single star shone brighter than the rest
2 months later, nocturn stumbled into the middle of his old pack, insane and ******. his eyes were dilated and his muscles quivered. he kept whispering, "i found him, elora... i found him... i killed him, for you, elora... for you...." a trail of blood followed him, and when the trackers followed it, it led straight to the shredded carcass of a grizzly. over the next few months, nocturn's insanity faded, but he hardly talked. however, every night, he howled long and soft, as if he were mourning. when the alpha asked, nocturn replied, "i wish the grizzly had killed me too... it shouldnt have happened... not to her... it should have been me..."

"it should have been me..."

2 years passed and still. nocturn howled every night in mourning. yet this night, he felt something strange. he sniffed the air and smelled the sweet scent of his lost mate. he whimpered and followed the scent, crying out. "elora! elora!" he ran, as fast as his paws would carry him. he stopped only when he saw her, a ghostly white form of her, waiting for him. he ran to her, crying, "please, elora! take me with you! i have missed you so!"
elora responded, "it has taken a while for me to get here, nocturn. i have misssed you also. it gladdens me that you've not forgotten me."
"i could never forget you, my love. take me, and together we can dance among the stars for eternity!"
elora smiled, then licked his cheek, "then come, we have been apart long enough."
nocturn howled once and disappeared, along with elora, whisped away in a breeze. many wolves looked, but none found him. though they often heard a wolf couple howling far in the distance. theres even a legend saying that if you look close enough, that you can see the couple. dancing among the stars for eternity.

I taste like rolled cigarettes and chocolate.
My fingertips are torched
a bittersweet burnt that comes
from a night of music and
thought-plagued action.
Oil and acne plot my hairline
as I stare through the orange
of the streetlamps to the
stars barely visible above,
tapping my feet to
the tune weaving in-and-out
of our arms and toes
as we cool on the autumned stoop.

Black putouts mark the sidewalk
where we wish to tread like
animal trackers, hunting the next
place for us to eat, to belong,
nomads of the land without true bearings.
Clear sight of the skymap eludes our
grasp, with our hands reaching out
against the never-ending heavens,
searching for real, and its contrast
against real.

And then it hits me:
What a ******* fraud I am.
So much so, that I become
vehemently sick to my stomach.
I ***** the remains of our ****
on the concrete table, and watch
as the deer circle us to applaud
our next musical movement
as we dance to their ancient
hove-stomped rhythm.

Key in the four digit code,
you have entered the...
loading bay.

we're here
somewhere on the map
looking for a way out.

The grid number
is part of the four digit code
the key's on the road
the road's on the map
key the coordinates in
and that'll be that.
but
It's hard to do when
you're looking through
black glass.
and me
as cracked as I could be
can see what corrupts me
and
I am the key
to
the skeleton in the cupboard.

it's either called: watching that technicolour
masterpiece... bell, book & candle,
kim or kimberley or some other from 1958...
and all those photographs
of the empire state building being
constructed...
without a single bungee jumper
or those suicide nets from the neck and bones
of the sweater shops of Corono alias
Mexico and some third party pardons
for the: better placed bet of
the faking it capitol...
and now i know that sargon of akkad
has welsh roots...
which means absolutely nothing...
it also means:
root i... be the don of man
in the girth of the 'oods!
massive attack's - live with me video:
which is twice better than the prodigy's
slap my ***** up...
namely how ******* up
trajectory hulk and spewing leaves you...
when ***** is done solo...
and when all of whiskey is drank
without an honest remark for patron:
ms. amber...
and there's no vinyl record shop
in the vicinity...
a high street where you only get to buy
mobile phones, trackers,
shoes, cheapshit clotches...
pardon coffees and lazy doughnuts
without ever having ever sniffed
living yeast...
always that packaged dry load of ****...
live with me:
i do hope you never jest at the platonic
offer of dreaming even
a sly measure of it coming true...
nothing i write is allowed to fall onto /
into a pillow...
i can imagine a pillow to be a mouth
to be a guillotine i imagine
sleep to be: the precursor ****** of lingering
death...
that bottle of cider and a shot of whiskers?
if there's anything akin to double-dutch...
there's the double-irish...
which is... ugly h'orange...
oh why so ranging Dublin away from
Boston, massachusetts;
privy... come... let's talk...
why is it that the green in the three colours
if Ireland... even the green looks...
"cheap"? it's not the sort of green of Italy...
and sure as ****...
that orange isn't the red of Italy...
and that orange is oh so much cheaper
than... the house of orange and the sinking -
red light district of amsterdam...

- the pleasure always comes
with the final tilt of the glug and...
what's to be made kosher of a goat...
or a ram...
the levite fiddly-bits of orthodoxy
baronage: when any variant of prayer
ensues...

no, i can be associated with the crazy cat ladies...
i too own two maine **** cats...
one's headlining as being over 10kg in... "size"...
another is teasing 7kg...
and i vacuum the house every, single day...
i'm truly like an adolf ****** when it comes
to the house being free from it ever
being believed to be a house
that entertain petting cats...

i hate fur... two cats you can keep:
but as long as the house, you sweep...
is... bound to a frequence of once a day...
every day...
ecce diem: omni diem...
that's how i will only allow myself
to keep cats, if the house is vacuumed and freed
from fur, every, single, day...
perhaps i'm asthmatic with a jealous nose
that always wants to inquire
the heights of mountains and the pitfalls
of valleys... and clarifying noble waters
of the spring...

and with a 3rd of a worth of a chemistry's
degree... one could almost wish
to be... this sort of willing...
to be a trashman...
and plot the next leibniz move of never
making it to going out...

my tidy... my tidy...
the best jobs with the least amount
of contact with people playing
sycophancy and the crab and tapeworm
roulette / violin...
if that's... obviously an utopian dream
outside of canada... sign me up!

it's still ***** orange to me...
even the green look *****...
just like: what do you call french navy?
certainly not romanian blue...
the swedish yella is not the romanian
gold-tinge primark yellow...
just saying...

not even excuses for bulgarian green
can match with italian green...
austria is no better when it comes
to red...
the germans have a red in their flag...
that... somehow works
with the red and yellow...
which the belgians seem to lack...
even though they share the same colours...

dutch orange is never really orange:
except when it comes to a football match...
by then the irish orange is
aenemic... to say the least...
and the green is pale...
perhaps because it is left to contrast
with orange rather than red...
and only the french match up to "blue"
of the union jack...
but only thanks to the navy teasing purple
of st. andrew's cross flag of:
tease Midlothian!

the cider is 'ere... the scotch is 'ere...
what do i have to complain about?
complain... complain...
no... nothing... really.

(Chorus/Hook)
I've tried so hard to find you,
I've seen empty roads and streets,
Empty sheets, and broken dreams,
love is not all that seems.

Fire or cold it seems whatever the weather,
We used fight for our love but we came to our tether,
But her blood is ice cold and I cant seem to shiver,
This pain inside my heart my blood flows like a river,
My hearts been crushed into a million pieces,
You were always my biggest flaw, biggest diseases,
I'm rummaging around trying to find the pieces,
of this soul, that you stole, whilst my heartbreak increases.
But you tore me in two, even when you knew,
I was trying to renew, as you tried to subdue,
The lies behind your eyes as love fades, love slowly dies,
so does her disguise, a succubus applies,
but she denies, all the love he feels inside but its no surprise,
cause she was a regular woman who drains and dries
Her soul, to reach her own goal then breaks up with guys,
But then he buys, her a diamond like shes won first prize.

(Chorus/Hook)
I've tried so hard to find you,
I've seen empty roads and streets,
(Growing and Hoping you see, no women stopping me)
Empty sheets, and broken dreams,
love is not all that seems.
(If you're weighed down break free or drown)

I think those back-trackers are all delusional,
you're losing your mind your becoming dysfunctional,
I'm hoping, I'm choking, I'm breaking down and I'm shaking,
while her heart is flaking, love from my bones I'm quaking,
in my shoes, like a puppet on string, a short wired fuse,
to trip me at any moment then abuse,
My kindness and goodwill to show people I always spill,
All my pain and love into one girl and it won't fulfill,
The persistent greed she has and the cold dampened chill,
Her life of torment and the ability to ****,
A singular man to stone with one look in her eyes,
But don't worry I'll be saying the final goodbyes,
So watch me as I walk out of your fiery frozen door,
but Don't ignore that my heart will recoup and restore,
To it's former fame and glory its an old untold story,
How my past relationship was really ******* stormy.

(Chorus)
I've tried so hard to find you,
I've seen empty roads and streets,
(Growing and Hoping you see, no women stopping me)
Empty sheets, and broken dreams,
love is not all that seems.
(If you're weighed down break free or drown)

Because she's dripping am slipping on the venom shes sprays
while I'm gripping and swinging these double edged blades,
wearing these shades to protect from the rays that she will blaze,
from her eyes its the only way that it seems to fade,
But you always pointed the finger at me like you knew,
that from the moment we both met it was gonna be you
the one who cut me in half and left me in two,
But I gained strength from within then I squashed down and drew,
A line through the page that messed with my sanity,
cos of confusion,  I couldn't catch gravity
in my fingertips avoiding pain and agony,
but just for the formality, i gave myself mortality
Just so I can outgrow the pain that weighs me down
But we'll leave this town and I'll turn it right around,
if illusions perceive me my mind stays incomplete,
if details were plain to see Intercepting your cold hearted feet.

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com


                                   Moo. Herd Immunity. Moo.

            "I don't know what herd immunity is, but when you
             add that to the people who have acquired immunity,
              it looks like it could be very close to herd immunity.”

                             -Texas Governor Greg Abbott,
        as quoted by the Washington Post via The Houston Chronicle


Moo. Herd immunity. Moo. Simple math.
Moo. Very close. Moo. Vigilant. Moo. Proactive.
Moo. Efficacy. Moo. Calculation.
Moo. Dashboards. Moo. Trackers. Moo. Asymptomatic.

Moo. 70% Moo. 80%.
Moo. Fourth surge. Moo. Waves. Moo. Gaps. Moo. Pockets.
Moo. Complications. Moo. Misunderstandings.
Moo. Factors. Moo. Threshold. Moo. Duration

Moo. Emerging. Probable. Moo. Data.
Moo. Equation. Moo. Very close. Moo. Died.

“I don’t know what herd immunity is…”

Moo.

Sat her castle, cold and dark
Upon the jagged hill
Surrounded by the deepest wood
Where seemed the time stood still

There in the wood a cottege sat
Of neat and propper trim
None should dare to enter there
The wood belonged to him

Both existed in a solitude
and lived within their ways
He locked himself away each night
She did the same each day

She had been of noble birth
A Barroness title to her name
Yet a brief encounter late one night
Her blood it left to taint

He'd been a hunter most all his life
and held a trackers skill
But he was bitten late one night
of the wolf he thought he'd killed

An age has passed since that time
and each lived on their own
Far away from mortal eyes
Carrying their curse alone

Til the night she walked the wood
Farther than she'd ever been
And came upon the cottege door
and carefully stepped in

A thunderous roar, it launched at her
poised to the attack
She bared her fangs and glared at it
As the chains had held it back

The Vampress and The Wolf's eyes met that night
both glowing green and red
What could have been destruction both
Something magical happened instread

The moon now hid behind the clouds
and showed his human form
A flame ignited in her cold dead heart
Her body began to warm

Seeing clear her beauty held
His rage did quickly melt
His heart beat fast, His mind consumed
by these new emotions felt

And now the castle, nor the wood
seemed as dark nor cold
As the Vampress and the Wolf
had eachother to hold
  
Share!

One morning after interrogations
and permitted rest, a training day warning:
Objects look bigger than they appear.

Gunshot was fired again.
Along with flair and sentiments in fancy frames.

She was told to stand-up again
and He was told to run for his life as far as he can.
He was shot dead after a few feet.
She was let go only to allow trackers
to find the others.

Facing seducing blades and machines
in lines of neon relief, we bury in a hurry
forsaken selves.

She shakes cold under someone's embrace,
wonders about how staying together
may also be just another lie.

Sharpening blades tonight,
Oberon and the Moon covers a skeleton.

By sunrise, the towers are unmanned,
chasing and hide-and-seeks.
A survival meeting that never existed.
A radio singing while someone works and eats.

Don't look at me
Stare straight ahead
The camera sees
And hears what's said

Fear 'Little' Brother'
In the phone for when
Everything's discovered
You turned you in

Bots with your social
Your facebooked look
And alexiacon vocals
Read you like a book

It was you but only you
Who fed 'Big Data' bots
Letting trackers through
Accessing all you got

Surveillance in any hand
A.I. genies in all reflections
Takes itself from every man
Knowing every direction

Losing a piece of me
Is losing a piece of you
If you come close you see
You're a chess piece too

A wolf can hear a cloud pass overhead,
Can smell the men with poison, guns and psalms.
A sacrifice of lamb will save his daughter,
His sons, his wife. A hart will do as well,
Or rodents though it takes a large amount.
The last Connecticut wolf was shot dead
In 1837, the rest forced
West, with other natives.  The Custer wolf,
A renegade, learned the trapper's conjure,
Survived ten years despite the bounty set-
Five hundred dollars, a king's ransom then,
Enough to draw the famous trackers west.
No place for a spirit that howls, or speaks
In tongues, and that is what I do, as well
As I know how, untethered to a school
Of thought, for thinking isn't what it takes
To make the sounds that scare a full grown man.

I'm closing in on that last decade
The few years left before I'm found dead
Soon I will be tallying up the score
Then knock knock knocking on Heaven's door
I've had my share of regrets to date
Things done wrong but correction's too late
Sure I've had my moments of fame
Too few it seems and they seem so lame
As I look back the dust has settled
My faith in God tested and it's true to mettle
And no use to think it could've been different
The stones have been laid and the path unrelentent
But the book of life has so many chapters
Eternity hunted down by ghostly trackers
All ends are the beginning of new
Time arrives when the wages come due

Now I TRULY BELIEVE...
That My Poetic Readings...

Reflect A...
... Voice of Reason...

That’s NOT Always Pleasing...
But Deals In Straight Speaking...
That REJECTS... Deceiving... !!!

And The Type of Glass Ceilings...
Where IGNORANT Teachings...

Are Those That Are Fed...
In Songs And Poems...
Where Reason Is Left...
Like Logic For DEAD... !!!

In This World That Presents...
... A Load of PROBLEMS... !!!

Because of The TREASON...
That’s Been Spread By Leaders...
For... TOO MANY Seasons... !!!

While It Seems That Some TEACHERS...
Have Been Secretly Creeping...
Into Rooms Where Kids Sleeping...
Have Then Had Them BREATHING... !?!

And Dealing In Treatments...
That Have MESSED With Their Being... !!!

Because of... ABUSE...
That Has Left Many Feeling...
As If They AREN’T Worthy... !?!
of Reason And Learning...

That Is MORE Deserving...
of Reason... DISCERNING... !!!
That These Human VERMIN...
Are NOT Fit For Purpose...
Within Teaching Circuits... !!!

It’s Reason I’m Working...
In Verses... OBSERVANT...
of This Human CIRCUS...
of Clowns Running Around...
Whose Reason’s NOT SOUND... !!!

Just Look Around NOW...
There Can Be NO More Doubt... !!!

That... Racism GROUNDS...
Much MORE Than Black Mouths...
When Policeman ASTOUND... ?!?

With Reasons They FLOUT...
As To WHY They SHOOT DOWN... !!!

Those With Black Skins...
With Reasons That Live...
In A World That Is SICK... !!!

Where Voices Make Noises...
That Are BEYOND Annoying... !!!

It Seems That They're Toying...
With Reason EMPLOYING...

The WORST Kind of Logic...
That’s Built From Pure NONSENSE... !!!

When It Comes To These Coppers...
As Well As... Hip Hoppers...

Who’ve Become NONSENSE Droppers...
In Lyrics Deemed HOTTER...
Than... Suicide Bombers... !!!

Well......

Their Reason BOMBS... !!!
That’s Right Like The Songs...
That Make Fools Sing Along...

To... Lyrical WRONGS... !!!

Like Those Being Dropped...
That DON’T Speak On Cops...

Cos’ They’re Focussed On Thongs... ?!?

UNTIL There’s A Reason...
For Them To Start Speaking...
On Things That Should Matter...
BEFORE Lives Are SHATTERED...
And Left In The CRAPPER...
Like **** Waste Matter... !!!

While My Form of Chatter...
In... Poetic Chapters...

Is Thought Filled Like Raptors...
About To **** Trackers...
Who Deal In ENTRAPMENT... !!!

Because My Reason's MASTERED... !!!
Like Tracks That Now... "Capture"...

BIG VIRGE Spoken Words...
That Are Those Well Observed... !!!

To Speak On This World...
of Boys And Young Girls...
And Women And Men...

Who Are Now Lacking STRENGTH... !!!

So Are Now Being PENNED …
Because of CORONA... !!!
That’s Now Killing Quotas...
With Reason That’s DREAD... !!!

Because It Selects WITHOUT Preference... !!!
As To WHO It Is Who Will End Up DEAD... !!!

Which Is Why I Now Write...
And Sometimes Recite...
These Lyrics That Deal In...

... ARTICULATE Speaking...
Through Verse That’s A Beacon... !!!

As Well As YES Being...

A... COOL...

.... “ Voice of Reason ”...

Heavy magic is happening
Fat thick rain finds window screen and splinters in pieces. 
I watch them baptize a line of yellow ladybug corpses, a ceremony without a religion
they call it an act of god
It is a miracle that no one prays for, 
a worship service no one attends.

Wailing tornado siren calls, a despondent banshee across the field behind my house
Gathering my family around the emergency storm supplies, watching storm trackers trace geometry runes onto weather maps like wizards

Heavy wall clouds that we are swirling around us like cloaks - fearing the cyclone, waiting for the touchdown moment like wheat bowing down to reach under red clay, rooted but unable to stop trembling 

A tree that bore my carved name lost it’s arm to the twisting wind, my neighbor’s houses destroyed under the next days sun 
But

I am somehow untouched by them, 
they flatten the earth around me, but I still stand, 
Three have sent me flying down half flooded backroads, 
hammering heart 

I held every day they let me go, unharmed as a mercy. 
They know their children when they see them

I am born of their heavy magic
smell of eerie and purple 
shiver of danger before the storm
whip of trains howling past you 
that breaking under the cyclone winds, 

Have you ever been chased by a thunderstorm? His eyes flash like Lightning, his hands are like Thor’s hammer, 
I think that it is all show and no danger, 
did you know that heat lightning is just too far away to hear his thunder 
you don’t know what danger you are in yet. The only thing you can do when you encounter such power bearing down on you is call on the heavy magic you were born of to baptize you.
To take you.
To escape him I summon the storm, the danger, the rage
Leave destruction 
Shattered lamp in my wake
Hands made of wind and ether.

I was born a wall cloud on watch, 
wind in my veins, wet hair, electric skin
I pay the price for my generational curse
I look over my shoulder for my damage,  
spiraling, breaking, 
loss of control.

I want to be a cloud again, before I summoned this birthright.

Heavy magic is happening
Fat thick rain finds window screen and splinters in pieces.
I watch them baptize a line of yellow ladybug corpses, a ceremony without a religion
they call it an act of god
It is a miracle that no one prays for,
a worship service no one attends.

Wailing tornado siren calls, a despondent banshee across the field behind my house
Gathering my family around the emergency storm supplies, watching storm trackers trace geometry runes onto weather maps like wizards

Heavy wall clouds that we are swirling around us like cloaks - fearing the cyclone, waiting for the touchdown moment like wheat bowing down to reach under red clay, rooted but unable to stop trembling

A tree that bore my carved name lost it’s arm to the twisting wind, my neighbor’s houses destroyed under the next days sun
But

I am somehow untouched by them,
they flatten the earth around me, but I still stand,
Three have sent me flying down half flooded backroads,
hammering heart

I held every day they let me go, unharmed as a mercy.
They know their children when they see them

I am born of their heavy magic
smell of eerie and purple
shiver of danger before the storm
whip of trains howling past you
that breaking under the cyclone winds,

Have you ever been chased by a thunderstorm? His eyes flash like Lightning, his hands are like Thor’s hammer,
I think that it is all show and no danger,
did you know that heat lightning is just too far away to hear his thunder
you don’t know what danger you are in yet. The only thing you can do when you encounter such power bearing down on you is call on the heavy magic you were born of to baptize you.
To take you.
To escape him I summon the storm, the danger, the rage
Leave destruction
Shattered lamp in my wake
Hands made of wind and ether.

I was born a wall cloud on watch,
wind in my veins, wet hair, electric skin
I pay the price for my generational curse
I look over my shoulder for my damage,  
spiraling, breaking,
loss of control.

I want to be a cloud again, before I summoned this birthright.