"treasury" poems
Into my heart’s treasury
I slipped a coin
That time cannot take
Nor a thief purloin, —
Oh better than the minting
Of a gold-crowned king
Is the safe-kept memory
Of a lovely thing.
21.6k
<>
"And then one day you came back home
You were a creature all in rapture
You had the key to your soul
And you did open that day you came back to the garden
The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face
The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine
And you were a violet colour as you
Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden
The summer breeze was blowin' on your face
Within your violet you treasure your summery words
And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine
Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden"
In the Garden,
song by by Van Morrison
<>
***This touches me deep in the chest cavity,
the palpitations of its internalizing echoing cavitations,
a warning, go slow, choose your words wise and
accrue, the mood,
for the ache of creating, hurts, fevers me
for I am but steps away from the garden,
and its violet hues infused with fresh sunrising golden hazes,
with kindly warmth, with warming kindnesses,
touches,
caresses my shoulders, begs me to stop crying,
overcome, for I am overcome, eyes dropping wetting droplets,
for find myself at the intersection,
interlocking crossroads
where perfect perfection
begins and must
meet its natural endings
thoughts of capture, retentions, preservations,
all impossibilities, challenges,
see me, begging itinerant
muses
in the neighborhood
to guide my hand, teach me newsome words,
mine feel so old, so unworthy of this moment,
hearing me solicit their
Treasure of Summery
Words
but they won't,
excusing themselves,
that this in particular human has exercised, exorcised,
all the tools in his ever diminishing capacity,
time insufficient to learn a new calculus of
addition
and bid me calm my heaving chest,
seize my tears, just add them to the brackish salted waters steps
awaiting away
live in this moment
live within this poem,
revisit it frequent,
weep no more,
your stilling heart weakened,
take fast what is given now,
and be contented,
your treasury chest is full,
overflowing with this summary of
summery***
but I am not, cannot…
7:48:am
jul 22
Jul 22, 2025
Jul 22, 2025 at 8:03 AM UTC
Time is moving
In a stream of wonderous murderous intending, sacrificing sadness,
My ****** devotion, ought to shed blood in a distorted dark was but an perishable spring dream, looping without an end through nights,
On sleepless nights, the ghosts of the past gets stuck within a river of pure thoughts, a lake birthing memories in secret, subsconsciously,
Discard your common sense, sacrifice your sanity for just this second,
When the moon stands high in the sky, a bonfire seals the nights start
To its creeping shadows, they do not crackor sparkle under the twinkling stars of this celestial ceiling of pure majesty for nyctophiles,
Even our natural satelite agrees, dying itself into a lunatic scarlet red,
Darkness upon darkness, with layers of shadows overlapping one another as the light begins to dim, thanks to the disappearing moon,
An imaginated landscape, created from only pure rage and fury,
But whereabouts of the heart, are likely to be lost to the thought of love I carry within a broken chest of treasury, losing all emotions,
Even if my scarlet eyes were to be losing their ability yet to see,
I would be able to count on you to guide me, through the everlasting,
The dream I awoken from, was a moonlit night turning crimson, losing its radiance through the soft eclipse of the moon, gently, slowly
But you were there, within the far away landscape drawn in my heart
~ Umi
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
The greatest to ever play the game
Leo Messi, the synonym of Fame.
World stops when he starts to play
Lightning fast, defenders he slay.
When he plays, sun loses its shine
Footballing world ruled by an Argentine.
His passing and finishing is sublime
Surely the greatest of all time.
Because of you, Barca has survived
Watching you play makes us feel alive.
With every game makes his fans proud
While playing he owns the crowd.
Every time he plays its like fictional story.
Trophies that's sums up his career glories
The name engraved on football legacy.
Messi the world's greatest Treasury.
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 5:58 PM UTC
National treasury, the room
Government, the broom
Its citizenry the mop.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 3:36 AM UTC
President Elizabeth Warren
Vice-President Dwayne Johnson
Treasury Secretary Bernie Sanders
Chief of Staff Hillary Clinton
Michelle Obama Secretary of State
White House Spokesman Joe Biden
Supreme Ct Nomine Barack Obama
Why not run a champion ticket by joining together to win?
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 6:12 PM UTC
Formerly known as the Departments of: State, Treasury, Justice, Interior, Agriculture, Commerce, Labor, Defense, Health and Human Services, Housing and Urban Development, Transportation, Energy, Education, Veterans Affairs, and last but certainly not least, Homeland Security.
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 4:21 AM UTC
Nature teaches us our tongue again
And the swift sentences came pat. I came
Into cool night rescued from rainy dawn.
And I seethed with language - Henry at
Harfleur and Agincourt came apt for war
In Ireland and the Middle East. Here was
The riddling and right tongue, the feeling words
Solid and dutiful. Aspiring hope
Met purpose in "advantages" and "He
That fights with me today shall be my brother."
Say this is patriotic, out of date.
But you are wrong. It never is too late
For nights of stars and feet that move to an
Iambic measure; all who clapped were linked,
The theatre is our treasury and too,
Our study, school-room, house where mercy is
Dispensed with justice. Shakespeare has the mood
And draws the music from the dullest heart.
This is our birthright, speeches for the dumb
And unaccomplished. Henry has the words
For grief and we learn how to tell of death
With dignity. "All was as cold" she said
"As any stone" and so, we who lacked scope
For big or little deaths, increase, grow up
To purposes and means to face events
Of cruelty, stupidity. I walked
Fast under stars. The Avon wandered on
"Tomorrow and tomorrow". Words aren't worn
Out in this place but can renew our tongue,
Flesh out our feeling, make us apt for life.
3.4k
the girlie man of Australian politics
had the term coined just for him
the tough man Arnie Schwarzenegger
from California was thinking of him
Bill Shorten is a *****
when it comes to fiscal matters
that's why his statements
on the budget are all in tatters
soft approaches toward
spending will never do
the nation's finances are in need
of a tightening *****
the treasury office stats
don't mislead of go awry
a salient tale they tell
about a well running dry
there are no Jesus Christ figures
in Canberra to divide the loaves and fishes
a certain amount is in the nation's war chest
which must fulfill the people's many wishes
the Shorten alternative economic policy
has great sieve holes in it
the nation's well being under it
would be rendered unfit
at the end of the day
the taxpayer always pays
so the ledger should be in balance
without any stalling delays
fiscal responsibility
is good for a nation's health
marshmallow centered Shorten
has no interest in stock piling our wealth
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
high over clear-washed stone, faint whispering,
the moon-bright tide cascades, the wild sea rose
has blossomed, nodding where the salt wave flows,
the wide unconquered brines great murmuring.
storm rock, night air, the white foam glistening
on wandering sand, the night's rich harvest grows
as passive as a flower, the sea-breeze blows
above the glassy ocean's thundering.
our love as free as this the windswept wave,
its rhythmic sigh, here in your arms i seek
a treasury of love, exotic gems,
before the folding tide, the current's slave.
the stronghold falls, the sleeping waters speak
of soft goodbyes and watery diadems.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
Under his mighty authority, he sent forth a pair of spies
Hidden by a harlot they now became Joshua’s eyes.
Saving her and all that she has for what she hath done
Later when they come to burn down the city
Her and her family will be spared, there the only one.
Assembling a band of seven priest’s in those strange lands
He’s ordering them to encompass and circle the city
While carrying the Ark of Covenant in their holy hands.
Preparations now begin for a symphony of destruction
it is for all the other inhabitants, due to all the corruption.
Commanded until the appointed time to remain in silence
After that, scream and shout loud with ragging violence.
Marching with the trumpets at their side and on their hips
It’s the seventh day, and now, they must make seven trips.
The walls then came crumbling down,
After they blew through those ram horns with their lips.
Taking there treasures, the spoils of war...
They took it for the Lord's treasury,
That is who they took it for.
AMEN
(SirCARSr. 11-25-13)
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
We divert rivers for desert fountains
Mine the very souls of mountains
yet we cannot spare the cash to feed the poor
Election hopefuls promise lies
while they look us in the eyes
then line their pockets like any other corporate *****
The treasury of this nation
thrives on fiscal ************
massaging figures til the money is all spent
And while we're all left to drown
some get bailed out to higher ground
as they stand upon the ninety nine percent
Why does the power of human greed
come before helping those in need
or is compassion blind, no longer can she see?
I pray to god I'm not alone
so if you appreciate my tone
come out and Occupy this planet Earth with me
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 4:06 PM UTC
Well then; I now do plainly see
This busy world and I shall ne’er agree.
The very honey of all earthly joy
Does of all meats the soonest cloy;
And they (methinks) deserve my pity
Who for it can endure the stings,
The crowd, and buzz, and murmurings
Of this great hive, the city.
Ah, yet, ere I descend to th’ grave
May I a small house and large garden have!
And a few friends, and many books, both true,
Both wise, and both delightful too!
And since love ne’er will from me flee,
A mistress moderately fair,
And good as guardian angels are,
Only belov’d, and loving me.
O fountains! when in you shall I
Myself eas’d of unpeaceful thoughts espy?
O fields! O woods! when shall I be made
The happy tenant of your shade?
Here’s the spring-head of Pleasure’s flood:
Here’s wealthy Nature’s treasury,
Where all the riches lie that she
Has coin’d and stamp’d for good.
Pride and ambition here
Only in far-fetch’d metaphors appear;
Here nought but winds can hurtful murmurs scatter,
And nought but Echo flatter.
The gods, when they descended, hither
From heaven did always choose their way:
And therefore we may boldly say
That ’tis the way too thither.
How happy here should I
And one dear she live, and embracing die!
She who is all the world, and can exclude
In deserts solitude.
I should have then this only fear:
Lest men, when they my pleasures see,
Should hither throng to live like me,
And so make a city here.
2.8k
It could Satan's cohorts cause, what portly
Political figures earn, to forsake his camp
And anon join the fray to the fat fiscal treasury
Of the country squander; and that to a cramp.
The pay plus pecks in a year they receive
Will most citizens in their lifetime never sniff.
So some who covet crazily such a mega-cheque
Also seek the same office for the easy favours.
Since our paunchy purse will at their own beck
And call be, they thus make elections endeavours
A dagger thing;--that if they cannot God's gross
Gold get, they must anyhow have the devil's dross.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 5:43 AM UTC
All you folks in paper hats,
You think paper's where it's at.
Paper suits and paper ties,
Don't you know that paper lies?
Paper silver, paper gold,
Paper's bought and paper's sold.
Does paper have any worth?
It's just a tree cut from the earth.
Your god is Almighty Paper,
Presidents are your deal makers...
Paper lions, paper hearts,
In the end they're torn apart.
Paper tigers, paper souls,
Punch them and they're full of holes.
Paper masks and paper streamers,
All you are are paper dreamers.
Whatever happened to your returns?
Don't you know that paper burns?
Some CEO's are thieves and liars,
Out there startin' forest fires!
Where's the nest egg of older folk?
Their retirement's up in smoke!
Greed is what we're talkin' here,
And all it is is paper fear.
"Will I keep up? Is mine the best?"
They're just kids in paper vests.
*"If you don't leave my paper alone,
I'll just take my paper home..."*
Paper boats and paper toys,
For paper girls and paper boys,
Paper backs and paper chase,
'Fraid you'll lose the paper race?
Paper masks and paper schemers,
All you are are paper dreamers.
Deep inside, your spirit screams!
There's no substance to your dreams!
All you are is dust and spit?
H2O and dirt...That's it?
Don't you feel that *hole inside?
Put away your paper pride!*
What will happen when you die?
When you find it's all a lie?!
You know I'm telling you the truth.
You've wasted your life,
you've lost your youth.
If you've a question, why not ask it?
Just more paper for your basket?
Magazines, newspapers, what's in print?
More paper for the Treasury's mint?
C'mon people! Lets get real!
This is **not Let's Make A Deal!!**
Door #1, or 2, or 3?!!!
Is that how you deal with ETERNITY?
You'd better be sure you're on the dime,
Cuz eternity's a long, LONG time.
Paper wings? Or paper veils?
Paper heads, or paper tails?
Keep life in a paper cup?
Guess what?
Your time is UP.
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) March 8, 2009
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
Barrels of oil painted smooth in acryllic
fill up the cracks with a feeling
spit out the money to feed the machine
Fair if it's toiling kids
draped along spoiled villians
immersed to serve the version of a billionaire's dream
eat the rich
Try me after I've been taught
I could've bought my chain
I would've lost my name
I should've dropped my shame facade
to play the game
We grew the youthful breath of heaven from the clay beneath our bones
imbued and innervated
aided you and drew the oath to play within the zone
circle reverie treasury burdens
bury the feathery,
herding squarely to fame - put on a show
eat the rich
dare me
you and yours invaded
bated breath had sung belated effort, whistle "death has reared it's head
at our expense so grab a sword.
We can war this **** straight out of this ole ditch
and fix whatever ***** gone wrong with it
with grit and sense
and build a fence"
Forget the soil your roots are grown in,
if you want to.
bask in shadow
of the weight of trust and decency
impeding our advances to your winner's table
fabled robin hoods with internets
guess who's deft enough let you know through every filter
left for us we may upset your dinner guests
let em know what's on the menu
eat the rich
let em know
The irony in learning
how to burn the fuel that kills you
after all the warning signs were there
sound familiar? it's a slog
burnin up, they'll crawl around
and find a meal on common ground
try the light show one more time
maybe that'll work
"The serfs are like a herd you see
they can't be riled along without a sermon
Burden them with silks and styles
worry them toward money piles"
Remind them of the fire they've been turning
Analogies aside I must abide by me and mine
but I've still got my eye on anything
...concerning
eat the rich
with discretion I guess.
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 7:35 AM UTC
—Flash Forward—
A day of reckoning.
A small boat crosses
the Hudson River,
no warning horn.
Destination New Jersey,
of all places.
A. Burr isn’t warned
that Hamilton will not
fire his pistol.
Destiny predetermined.
“Death doesn’t discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints,
It takes and it takes and it takes.
History obliterates.”
—Flashback—
General.
Colonel.
Aide-de-camp.
Immigrant.
“Don’t engage, strike by night.
Remain relentless ‘til their troops take flight.”
“We escort their men out of Yorktown.
They stagger home single file.
Tens of thousands of people flood the streets.”
“Took up a collection just to send him to the
mainland.
‘Get your education. Don’t forget from whence
you came.’”
—Stepfather of the Union—
Treasury secretary, author of the Federalist Papers,
lawyer, speechwriter, confidante, opponent of slavery,
member of the Constitutional Convention.
“History has its eyes on you.”
“I’ve seen injustice in the world and I’ve
corrected it.”
“The Federalist: Addressed to the People
of the State of New York.”
“Goes and proposes his own form
of government.”
—Family and Marriage—
The Schuyler Sisters – Eliza.
Maria and James Reynolds – adultery and bribery.
Philip Hamilton – successor son and victim.
Philip Schuyler – father-in-law.
“And if this child
Shares a fraction of your smile
Or a fragment of your mind, look out, world!”
“I know you’re a man of honor,
I’m so sorry to bother you at home.”
“I’m only nineteen but my mind is older,
Gonna be my own man, like my father
but bolder.”
“Grampa just lost his seat in the Senate.”
—Why, How, How long?—
Why not?, biography,
genius, rapid-fire rap,
hip-hop, historical vertigo,
Lin-Manuel Miranda at the White House,
a cast talented beyond measure,
the Great White Way,
2017-18 and forever….
“…13 percent of the population is foreign
born, which is near an all-time high;
that one day soon there will no longer
be majority and minority races, only a
vibrant mix of colors.”
‒Jeremy McCarter, from Chapter I of
Hamilton: The Revolution
*© Lewis Bosworth, 12/2016
With credit to the book:*
Hamilton: The Revolution
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
BEAUTY IS A ROSE
BEAUTY IS ******
AND SOMETIMES CAN'T BE CONTROLLED
BEAUTY IS OLD AND NEW
BEAUTY IS EVERYTHING I KNOW
(_BABY!!!
LET ME COME TO YOU
LET ME FEEL YOU
LET ME KISS YOU
LET ME READ MY LETTERS
AND POETRY
I PROMISE YOU'LL WANNA HEAR THIS
(_BABY!!!
JUST LET ME TELL YOU
THAT I'VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH
ONE MORE TIME
LET ME GRAB YOUR HAND
SO I CAN FEEL THE
RUSHING CRUISE CRUSH
(_BABY!!!
BEAUTY IS LIFE
BEAUTY IS SUCCESSFUL
BEAUTY IS SECURED
BY WHAT IS NEXT
YOU HEAR THAT BEAUTIFUL TEMPO
STAY LAYING ON YOUR PILLOW
BEAUTY IS THE WORDS THAT COMES FROM YOUR MOUTH EVERY NIGHT (_BABY!!!
EVERYTHING IS ALRIGHT
AND YOU ALREADY KNOW THAT EVERYTHING IS FINE AND DANDY SO BEAUTIFUL NOTHING NEVER LEAVES OUR SIGHT
BEAUTY IS THE WORDS THE THAT I WRITE FOR YOU OF COURSE
BEAUTY IS THE SUN THAT SHINED IN OUR EYES
AND I CAN SEE IT ALL
BECAUSE MY LOVE FOR YOU IS SO ******* STRONG
AND YOU WILL SEE IT ALL IN DO TIME TOO
WHENEVER THE MOON ARRIVES TONIGHT
YOU'LL BE COUNTING STARS
AND I'LL BE THINKING
OF
YOU AND I , TRUE STORY
(_BABY!!!
THE WHOLE WOLD WILL SCREAM OUR NAMES
BECAUSE BEAUTY IS INSANELY MAGNIFICENT
A COMPLETE BLESSING
A BEAUTIFUL TREASURY TREASURE
EVERYONE
BEAUTY IS TOUCHING
BEAUTY IS KISSING
BEAUTY IS SEXINESS
NOT SECONDARY
YOU JUST GOTTA LOVE IT
CAME HERE_ (BABY!!!
LET ME TELL YOU
BEAUTY IS BRILLIANT
AND RISING UP WITH INGREDIENTS
BEAUTY IS BULIDING BRIGHT
AND FILLED WITH EVERYTHING NICE THAT'S PARADISE
BEAUTY (_BABY!!!
**** RIGHT
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
~~
All you folks in paper hats
You think paper's where it's at.
Paper suits and paper ties...
... don't you know that paper LIES?
Paper silver, paper gold,
Paper's bought, and paper's sold.
Does paper have ANY worth?
It's just a tree cut from the earth!
Your god is almighty Paper...
... The Presidents are your deal makers.
Paper lions, paper hearts,
In the end they're TORN APART...
Paper tigers, paper souls,
Punch them and they're
FULL OF HOLES...
Paper masks, paper streamers,
All you are are
PAPER DREAMERS.
Whatever happened to your returns?
Don't you know that paper BURNS?
Some CEOs? Thieves and LIARS!
Out there starting FOREST FIRES!
Where's the nest egg of older folk?
Their investment's up in SMOKE!
Greed is what we're talking here,
And all it is is paper FEAR...
"Will I keep up? Is mine the best...?"
They're just KIDS in paper vests!
"If you don't leave my paper alone...
... I'll just take my paper HOME!!!"
Paper boats and paper toys
For paper girls and paper boys...
Paper rats and paper chase,
'Fraid you'll lose the paper race?
Paper masks and paper schemers,
All you are are
PAPER DREAMERS.
Deep inside your spirit SCREAMS!
There's no substance to your dreams!
All you are is dust and spit?
H2O and dirt... that's it?
Don't you feel that hole inside?
Put away your paper pride!
What will happen when you die,
When you find it's all a LIE...
You KNOW I'm telling you the TRUTH.
You've wasted your life,
You've lost your youth!
If you've a question, why not ask it?
Just some more paper for your basket?
Magazines, newspapers, what's in print?
More paper for the treasury's mint?
C'mon people! Let's get real!
This is NOT "Let's Make a Deal"!!!
Door #1 or 2 or 3...
Is that how you deal with
ETERNITY???!!!
Better be sure you're on the dime,
'Cuz eternity's a long... L O N G.... TIME.
Paper wings or paper veils?
Paper heads or paper tails...
... keep life in a paper cup?
Guess what?
Your
time
is
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
In melancholy moonless Acheron,
Farm for the goodly earth and joyous day
Where no spring ever buds, nor ripening sun
Weighs down the apple trees, nor flowery May
Chequers with chestnut blooms the grassy floor,
Where thrushes never sing, and piping linnets mate no more,
There by a dim and dark Lethaean well
Young Charmides was lying; wearily
He plucked the blossoms from the asphodel,
And with its little rifled treasury
Strewed the dull waters of the dusky stream,
And watched the white stars founder, and the land was like a dream,
When as he gazed into the watery glass
And through his brown hair’s curly tangles scanned
His own wan face, a shadow seemed to pass
Across the mirror, and a little hand
Stole into his, and warm lips timidly
Brushed his pale cheeks, and breathed their secret forth into a
sigh.
Then turned he round his weary eyes and saw,
And ever nigher still their faces came,
And nigher ever did their young mouths draw
Until they seemed one perfect rose of flame,
And longing arms around her neck he cast,
And felt her throbbing ***** and his breath came hot and fast,
And all his hoarded sweets were hers to kiss,
And all her maidenhood was his to slay,
And limb to limb in long and rapturous bliss
Their passion waxed and waned,—O why essay
To pipe again of love, too venturous reed!
Enough, enough that Eros laughed upon that flowerless mead.
Too venturous poesy, O why essay
To pipe again of passion! fold thy wings
O’er daring Icarus and bid thy lay
Sleep hidden in the lyre’s silent strings
Till thou hast found the old Castalian rill,
Or from the Lesbian waters plucked drowned Sappho’s golden quid!
Enough, enough that he whose life had been
A fiery pulse of sin, a splendid shame,
Could in the loveless land of Hades glean
One scorching harvest from those fields of flame
Where passion walks with naked unshod feet
And is not wounded,—ah! enough that once their lips could meet
In that wild throb when all existences
Seemed narrowed to one single ecstasy
Which dies through its own sweetness and the stress
Of too much pleasure, ere Persephone
Had bade them serve her by the ebon throne
Of the pale God who in the fields of Enna loosed her zone.
2k
Water of remembrance sprinkled
On the mountain crest of recollection.
Indulgent mussy memory catapulted
Stones of retentiveness into the
Courtyard of events like bricole
Of battles.
Pendulum of reminiscences swinging
On oscillating milage of roads like
Trotting horse with drippage of sweat
And itching foots.
Ghost of reminiscences restlessly
Roaming with carriage of yesteryear.
Final year educatees required
Boardinghouse,
But list of items engorged dear
Mother's treasury
"where do l raise money
to buy oyinbo mattress, Ilori?"
Mind pullulated with weariness.
Intonation of worries.
Cantillation of wants.
Deficiency of measured means.
Oyinbo mattress beyond ladder
Of reach.
Gluttonously waiting to devour
Lesser items,
But rays of compulsion unslammed
The gate of respite.
Lordly arrival warmly welcomed by
The dorm room's porter,
Walking majestically to the bed-space
With the acquired cotton wool and raffia leaves mattress.
Gamut of items passed through the eagle's eyes of the housemaster.
Silver painted pail donated by a neighbour passed through the sentry of inspection,
And got its admission.
Mother's used cloak turned bedsheets
Passed through the rigorous scrutiny.
Newly built portmanteau unlocked and neatly dissected, item by item.
Agazed eyes focused on the cotton wool and raffia leaves hand-made mattress.
Expectations rattled mumbling astonishment.
Legs stuck in the mud of mystification.
Telepathic dews covered ocean of thought.
Tranquil silence engulfed vicinity,
Deflating the balloon of hope like a litigant awaiting verdict from the jurist's chambers.
Porter's gesticulating gesture connoted nothingness of demeaning disapproval, perambulating on the hilly terrain of approval.
Akimbo stood l.
Now the verdict!
Molten volcanic magisterial command erupted in a gestapo gesture,
Spudding out from the barytone's baritone voice from the selfsame housemaster,
From the bastion of authority,
And the house generalissimo like a wild brant squalled, matter-of-factly,
"we do not accept bed bugs cotton wool and raffia leaves hand-made mattress here".
Entreaties collapsed.
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 1:30 AM UTC
With the tightfisted budget now handed down
There is a lot of ****** off people in our nation's towns
Mr Hockey has hit the taxpayers with a double decker bus
High and low income earners put well into a binding truss
Revolt in the Senate Chamber is showing on the cards
The government will be in receipt of a few shrapnel shards
Legislation won't get passed in a timely manner
There will be the flying of a double dissolution banner
Then the Abbott mob will be well and truly stumped
Voters are itching to have the extra tax imposts bumped
Canberra shall shortly be in for an enormous rattling
Heft taxing has the nation's populous struggling and battling
Had the GST been set at fourteen percent and on everything
Our tax burden to-day wouldn't be so troubling
Government must learn to live within its boundaries
As the tax paying public are sickening of all the levees
Tax policy is in need of urgent attention too right
For parliamentarians don't seem to see our plight
Mr Shorten has stated that his mob can fix our woes
But his side of politics has not the scent of a rose
We are stuck with a budget which has us ******* down
And it offers us nothing of the lights in mirthful town
The treasury calculator has a very mean spirited spike
Twill there ever be a tax regime which we'll all like
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
Sacred feminine energy coursing through this restored, all encompassing treasury; the plausibility of cellular memory revealed through elemental vitality.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 10:58 AM UTC
Unworthy-
31/January/2021
1.22Am
That day when you asked if you could tell me a secret
I was so excited,
But to be honest I freaked out.
I was so unworthy of that weight.
My simple heart cannot hold such pressure.
The weight you are carrying.
The knowledge that you've earned.
I felt so unworthy of the words that would spill out of your lips.
That day I felt something different.
I thought I knew knowledge,
I thought I knew how to take life as easily as a floating feather.
I thought I knew how to take my problems and put it down with my fists.
I thought I knew what is love.
But that day your eyes told me a different story.
Your eyes showed me a story of a thousand nights.
A forest of thousand lives.
A Library with thousand books.
A universe of thousand skies.
Your eyes asked for trust that day
It asked for a chamber with a lost key,
Locked away and cannot be found for eternity.
But I am just a human.
Unworthy of the treasury you wanted to give.
Illiterate to the feelings you wanted to share.
And unworthy of your trust.
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 4:03 AM UTC