A yo Shawty,
You is lookin fine, fine, fine
Humph
Like a crisp hundred dollar bill on da sidewalk
Found between paychecks.  Fine.
Lookin like that Queen off in my dreams
So I be real when I step to you
Wussup, whut yo name is, whus yo phone number?
A yo Shawty,
If I gotta, I’m a steal you from somebody.
I mean some ***** gon be ******
Cuz you gon be my special dish
Shawty ya look good
Got those legs that
Mad David Ruffin not too proud to beg.
I wann know whut’s behind those eyes that hypnotize.
Whut’s in yo head?
A yo Shawty,
Is you gotta mind to go wit yo
Fine, fine, fine, super fine ***?
I see you got class.  Physical beauty surpass
Named after a month cuz the thought of you last
For mo days than the rains of Noah
God couldn’t destroy this place ‘til he made yo face
I’m down fo the chase let’s run dis race.
A yo Shawty
Yeah you
Tongue ring and accessories
Make me wanna catch yo disease
I wanna inhale what you exhale
Taste whut you smell
My idea of Hell is you not by my side
A yo Shawty
I shall provide
That fire fo you to ride
I ain’t givin you no cheese
But together we can make Swiss cheese, American and cheddar
In memory of you no falsified lines
That month befo summer and at de end of spring
A yo Shawty
Let’s get togever and do da right thing.
Like a fat *** Spike Lee Joint
Roll up dat bubonic sticky green chronic
And let’s pull together
Get close like crystal when we toast
Every anniversary Cristol in the crystal
We boast that I’m yours and you is mine
A yo Shawty
You lookin
Fine, fine, fine.
Hmph.
Like a crisp hundred dollar bill on da sidewalk
Found between paychecks.
Fine.

A pocket of thought, ideas.
Impulses, has beens

epi-phenom-enal-con-currencies-synchron-icity
sorting places, thens and nows vying for attention

you see
we till stories in search of true tomorrows
not true
yesterdays (till, I said, not tell)
we **** the hard rows no one else will ***
so seed lies sown are never lies told, if the lies are never taught
or if the liars are caught before convincing the
intended crop to lie and swear a common liege Lord,
or die
for lack of knowing. Non-nascence, simplest
symptom to not see.
Whose death is yours to respond responsibly
to? My child's, or yourn?
In the early days, we knew less than we know now
about how knowing and growing were all
intended
to cost time. Ticks, ono motto whatever, the sound
gears and spiral springs pushing cogs
tick, one tooth tick at atime make

this rough, un polished, un glossed, is it wrong or

as I imagine a diamond in the rough must seem to a share cropper
experienced in diamond hunting, diamond prospecting,

prospecting expecting inspection to permit
seeing a 3.52 specific gravity,
specific
specify

species or spectacles,
spectators or special-if-eye-cation
value-en-abled. Weigh your mind in balance
with mine. I claim the mind of Christ.
What are the odds?

A wandering path, injoyable enable if-i-abble,
pacing is

everything, timing is everything, time is the test.

Time is the metagame.
Take your time. One word formed sylabble at a time.
Babble on, your confusion makes you mortal, to my mind.
Tick.
A quanta of time. Does time come in bits and pieces cernible,
but undiscernible from reality?

Babble.

Of course, time will tell. We learned that in our sleep, did we not?

Aesop taught us more than Moses, no,
Aesop taught us less than Moses.

But, we could learn to walk bearing the weight of knowing what
Aesop taught,
while we could not stand under the weight
Moses was said
to have taught.

Caught you, Jewboy. Whatchewknow?
The moral of the story.

THE IDEA is to win.
Beware the concision decision.
incisive devices, witty inventions.

Flip the shell, roll the bones, cast the runes and,
as luck might have it, die before your time.

Why factors are lies more oft than how factors.
Benefactors rule malefactors or
how or why would we invest our time in seeking reasons
to believe?

Is this the polished piece, the gemstone of specific gravity
(which currently means nothing to you. Here, you find too light
or too heavy, too weighty on the scale of specific value.)

Hard. Value hard, diamond hard, on Mr. Moore's scaled model of
Knowing exploding for reason's sake, raison d'etre, eh?
Too hard?
Not Mohs,
don't get me wrong.
We been Moore's law breaker all along.
We be manifested destinatory stories of heroes gone wrong.

Outlawed
knowing exploding to be reasoned with, by kind
children destined to become
written in stone, scarred by lies

Diamonds cutting diamonds, iron whetting iron
on eternity's edge.

Babylon, was it Bel's gate or fusion from below rising?

Magma fountains with diamond claws tearing the lands asunder
Is asunder still a word?, let me, allow me to define...
"into a position apart, separate,
into separate parts,"
mid-12c., contraction of Old English on sundran 
Middle English used to know asunder for
"distinguish, tell apart."
From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/asunder>
----

mumbler's humbler PIE, bowing before the knowers who
know nothing of my work.
Set apart, art thou holy aware?

Hermit me, meet the rest of me. The true rest that remained.
We live, you and I. Trust me, next is worth the wait.

Suffer needs no pain to make its point. Waiting is.

Grokk. WHO would believe that idea could live
through telegraphese to be tweet meets for the
Cosplay clans. How never grokked a rock,  why even less.

Strange, not be long in this
place. if
place this be. Odd
set aside
torn asunder
blown away.
Awake, little birdie, tell me true,
what's a man like me to do?

Did you meet the famous Mr. Blake?
I cleaned his chimney, way back when, chimbly's whut
we called em. Smoke stacks belchin' black
makin' black moths invisible to voracious
gulls.
Now the peppered moths are free
to be white-ish, for better or worse.

----

right, now, do right or

miss the mark,
the specific mark you made, maybe,
imagining, abstract obstructions missed
by the skin on Job's teeth as you run past

right now to more. You know?

----=

Story telling was the same as lying when I was a child, to me.

Telling stories was my gift I never took. Or am I lying? or mad,
in the old way.
Chailot's rag picker was my best friend.

No noble thought ever found it's home in my head, once
I thunk it, it stunk to high heaven, for me stinkin' thinkin' it.

Po' ems sang sour to fiddles wit' one strang and drums with no
cymbals
Screamin' he owed m' soul the comp'ny sto' bang bang thud.

I died, he lied, and lived to tell this story, ****** if I know,
****** if I don't.

True as true can be. I am lost, but once was found,
lyin' rough, uncut in acres of unseen gems.
----
* Voltaire refused to teach me any thing I could not define:
late 14c., deffinen, diffinen, "to specify; to fix or establish authoritatively;" of words, phrases, etc., "state the signification of, explain what is meant by, describe in detail," from Old French defenir, definir "to finish, conclude, come to an end; bring to an end; define, determine with precision," and directly from Medieval Latin diffinire, definire, from Latin definire "to limit, determine, explain," from de "completely" (see de-) + finire "to bound, limit," from finis "boundary, end" (see finish (v.)). From c. 1400 as "determine, declare, or mark the limit of." Related: Defined; defining.

So, imagine facets unseen, I am at least a meme, a bubble rising on the tide. Think, as you will. Amen?

They’s times when I
Jess cain’t say it good
And times when I am
Jess plain amazing;
Then teachers and snobs
Seem to all agree and
Subject whut I say to
Harsh degrees of hazing.

It seems like they ain’t never
Said the wrong word before
Whatever, they jess don’t
Seem to put me on ignore
And move to importanter things
Than grammarical stuff;
As fer me, I’m jess turnin’ them off
‘Cause I have had me enough.

I only had me an education
Up to the eleventh grade or so
A whole buncht of that silly stuff
I got told  but I still don’t know.
My dad and my mom too
They got taught just like me.
And I talk good enough for them.
Change my perfectly acceptable talk?
Really now, the chances are slim.

We say ain’t and cain’t and acrost
And other such acceptable words.
And some of the more ‘proper’ things
Ain’t nothin’ but jess plain absurd.
Like widdershins and tatterdemalion,
Sequipedalian, octogenarian as well.
If I’m expected to talk like that
Y’all can just go straight to hell.

Kaincha tok normal, ever sangle wunnaya?
Omina tellya diss. Nuthin lie kat is good.
Alla us oiz tok English good allatime
Ever day uhda world in mah neighborhood.

Us is sum, y’know, good tokken people.
Yeah, ain’t nobuddy speaks good lie cuss.
Lessen there from round here, ah mean.
We got eddycated good, no muss, no fuss.

We don’t need no college, no way Jose.
We gunna do jess lock are parents did.
We go to school every day till eitghteen
Jess lock dey did win dey was a kid.

Ever now and then, you can get ahold
Of sum buddy whose totally iggnent.
They stick there noses up in thuh air.
They think there better, sumthin differnt.

But really, it’s just a mute point, I mean
Irregardless of whut they bin sayin’
They jess turn stuff round 360 degrees.
It’s jess a nother word game there playin’.

Thuh important thang is to be understood
Not that thuh  people say everthang rite.
The important stuff to tok about is
To know whut is wrong and whut is rite.

You, yew and ewe.
New, knew and gnu.
Two, too and to.
Do, dew and doo.
Your, you’re, ewer and yore.
Sower, sewer and even sore.

Pin, pen
Win, wen.
Tin, ten.
Bin, been.

For, four, and fore.
Poor, pour and pore.
Bear, bare and bayer.
There, their and they’re.
Sure, sewer, shore and shower.
Censor, censure, sensor, censer.

Din, den.
Kin, ken.
Win, wen.
Yin, yen.

Shoulda, coulda and woulda,
Wanna, hafta and hadda.
Pitchers painted of pitchers
Ree-lutters instead of realtors.
Pertecting you with protection.
Prescribing you a perscription.
A different kind of differnse,
For instance, gimme a frinstance.

Pin, pen
Win, wen.
Tin, ten.
Bin, been.
Din, den.
Kin, ken.
Win, wen.
Yin, yen.

"Say, whus tha good wurd, Mista Mornin Bird?"
"Ahh, ya know just chillin here singin these here tunes waitin fah Mista Worm."
"Ahh dat Mista Worm - he alwayz be runnin late."
"True dat!”
”Yo! peep this...
Last night he took his ol girl out on a date."
''A date? Really? Mistah Worm?”
"Yup.
But it getz betta tho.
It wuz dare anniversary. Ol fool went to tha chapel an got married."
"MARRIED!!??"
"mmhmm."
"Where dey get married?"
"At dare special spot in tha apple orchard.
Mistah worm told me he and hiz girl are movin to the Big Apple.”
“Big Apple? Fah what?”
“He gunna work fah tha East New York Farms.  I guess hiz uncle Jim
got him in.”
“…Mista Worm…”

"Say, howz Mista Skunk doin?  He evah get clean?"
"I dont see much of him theez dayz.  Heard heez down on his luck. Evah since tha paper mill closed he aint been tha same.  Heez so stressed out he got mo white hairz than a polar bear.”
“Dammmnnn!!!”
”Sumone told me that heez a nasty lil ol drunk wit a funky attitude and a quick tempa!
No wunda hiz wife leftem.
My understandin iz he still outta work - rummigin through peoples junk - collectin cans, tryin to make a buck.
Itz a **** shame, aint it?"
"Uh huh."

"Howz Mista Rabbit?"
"Miiiista Rabbit! Oohh dat Mista Rabbit he dunn got himself a nasty habbit."
"Whys dat?"
"He be stealin outta Mizz Jonsens garden again.
Otha day Mizz Jonsen shooed him away chasin him down tha block wit a pair of ol rusty scissors in her hand."
"Scissors!!??"
"Yup. She told him next time he wont be so lucky wit out hiz foot."
"WHUT!!??  Whus dat suppose da mean?"
"I dunno.”
"Dat Mizz Jonsen gone crazy!!
She dunn lost her mind in her ol age.
She crazier than a ******* rat!
Man, when Mista Rabbit gunna learn?”
"I guess when he haz no foot."

"Say, you talk to Mista Squirrel at all?"
“Itz been sum time.”
“How wuz he doin?”
"Man, you know Mistah Squirrel.  He wuz all ova da place, or at least he wuz.  He alwayz be jumpin from one tree to tha next, alllllwayz tryin to get a nut or two.  Last I heard he got deported and now lives in anotha county.”
“Why iz dat?”
“He dunn got locked up fah breakin in a few too many attics. They finally caught him....Stoopid fool."
''****…”

"Nuff about tha neighbahood.  How you been?  Havent seen you inna while."
"Im still doin my thang, ya know.
Roamin from town ta town, chasin down tail."
"Yous still chillin in dem alleys too?"
"Fa sho!"
"Man, aint a **** thang changed wit chu.
Yous alwayz been a cool cat...”

Autobiographical fact:
The CIA trained me in covert Martian Martial Arts.

I am better than you.
My fists are weapons of mass destruction.
Boom. Bite the towel, I'm going in dry
like US planes all over Iraq.
Sadam ain't got nothing on me.
(I mean...
He had no weapons to begin with
but I'll **** Cheney his *** and yours too.)
UN Security Council say whut?!
That's what I thought.
-Mic drop-

Hey there poets, this is my first poem.
I've been feeling bored and lonesome.
So I ended up here.
Reading poems from my peers.
Finding something to do with my time,
Something to do with making rhyme.
This is turning out quite bad,
Yet I ain't mad.
I don't know what I'm doing,
But hey, good morning.

Wutsa matter wit you?
Whirr you frumm?
You from summ furren country?
Cain’t you tawk better den at?
Murruhkunz doan tawk Inglush lie cat.
We talk good Inglush. We tawk da bess Inglush.
Ain’t nobody tawk better den us.
Irregardless of whut kine uh furriner you are
You could not tawk so ignernt.
It’s a insult tah good Murrukuhns tawkin lie cat.
You should be imburrst to tawk ataway in public.
Should be ashaymt uh yerself.

Yenno, peepo c’n perject thur ignernce
’N thur lack intelluhgunce so easy.
They jess open up thur mouths
’N let the dumbness fall out
’N thur it is, fer alll to see.
Yude thank they’d realize what dumshits they are
’N not let thur mouths write checks
Thur butts cain’t cover.
But, no. They’s flappin’ thur yaps an babblin’
‘Bout nothin’ at all, ’n actin’ the pure fool
Lack thur mamas din teach them nuthin.
Well, nuthin’ good, at lease.
Me, muhseff, I thank sumbuddy
Shoulda kicked thur butts
From here ta Sundee.

But, thass jess me.
I know thurs a buncha bleedin’ heart libralls out thur
That wanna let peepo get by with crap jess ‘cause
Sumbuddy is a Niger er ‘cause they’s Messcun
Er sum kinda ******* heathen er ‘sump’n,
But I thank thass jess wrong.
Peepo gotta talk good jess to respeck the flag
’N God n’ country. Or go home.
Yeah, go on back to whatever Godless place
You ’n your race ’n yer ideas is okay.
We rilly doan need ‘em here.
We’s good, God fearing’ peepo and hard working too.
So, if that ain’t you, *** on yer camel ’n ride
Back tah whurever you cumm frumm
Till you c’n tawk good Iinglush lack decent fokes.

It was a very thorough grinding and a overly slow unwinding
The passiveness intensifying to the perfect medium
and beyond this equilibrium it was still churning
this void that is fire extinguished
an emptiness that is passion relinquished
The table was empy, full and cleared of all substances
the cup was overfilling, spilling but content
The tendrils retracted to the cavernous maw from which I succombed
the throat I threw myself down
and clung to the uvula with my toes out of lingering basic reactions
a stimulus that I cared to respond to
My lymph nodes were a sore blackness, penetrating all the wiles of wills
it was the spiders again...
let's talk about evolution for a bit
why do we do things?
survival?
the basic desire to be and propagate oneself
some psychologists would suggest that it's all based on ***.
that's why there are so many ****** and manwhores as well
they trick their bodies into believing they are succesfull.
why do we wish to be succesful?
to attract a mate? yes'm
some of us can move past this sole purpose, but it's still an underlying cause yo


The bossman keeps me a-slaving away..working my time for his pay
The teacherman keeps me a-studying all day, working my mind for future wage
The bassman is me a-slapping a way, mumbling a mating call

So, the plumage is quite bright..genuine too
but not as full and phosphorescent as ******* mcassbutt's store bought version
but, there are no real peahens.  only chickens
so, who'm I trying to impress here? Mr. Director Man, what is my motivation in this scene?
"If you need someone to tell you that for you, then you should probably **** yourself"

this is why I don't give advice much..

I've been told very often, that one should look to themselves for their happiness..
but these people who say this get laid frequently.
not that that is my unit of happiness measurement here.. but try it before you buy it
I'm not going to waste my time.. mating for the sake of having a mate
it's fake. it's vacuous. it's vapid. it's false. it's unreal. it feels wrong and you know it

but...someone to bounce ideas off of. a special someone
put me in my place when im full of **** and it's pouring out my mouth
to recognize that point of light, so many have talked about with me..but ran away from
understanding the cosmic joke..it's not evil or crazy.. it just is and it's wonderful


the lymphatic darkness spreading.
why the lymph nodes?  cuz it's fun to say
lymph lymph lymph
get it? WHEEEE!!
it was once a false light,  some kind of poisonous neon spiraling around my core
but it was torn away..body evacuations of necessity alone
then it was an astral negative, ******* and ******* hard i tell ya whut nyow
it finally found something in all that darkness...the cosmic infinitesimal
the smallest decimal
like a rasinette, with doom insteada chocolate
and dang it was good mood food
i would follow a trail of those fuheva eva
I finished devouring this morsel of anything at all
and found the lighting almost acceptable
readable, but with permanent eye damage after a while

this is not england circa 1945!

wenn sehnsucht für...
fleischaufwölfe...

und sein im: ..................
surd toward a ditto
a "said part"

israeli techno...
habit of celebration,
this, your israel,
has become....
the one place to visit...
outside
of Beirut...

mogul israeli and a...
english tongue?
and not a whut-whut-whut
westerner...
commoner: "mon":
ça fait longtemps, dis donc...

cedilla... some french
variant of the ancient greek
variation of "s"..
or... "otherwise"... an "oops"...

here's to me, champagne *******
every kenyan ivory beauty is....
no... it's pretty much..
being able... being-****-able...
to be allowed a hard-on...
with an ivory beauty on the "roll"...

i need to feed the act of performing:
guess who's who without
3rd part interests...
i want that bone-fiddled *** of mine
that coccyx that... Latisia night nurse...
um and that abc "ouch"
grief unto you: for having
this... i sometimes grieve...
the "assurance".... of having
a mamă...

there's an enchanté(e)?
é(e)?
the Titanic... will... sink!
there's no joke with a hindsight...
the Titanic will sink...
and i'll be the ******* iceberg!

no ******* Kilar choir will save
this paupers' and... what not akin
to pennies reigning down from heaven
as rain!

"the better man"... no Ovid
via Pearl Jam...
or... November 1, 1959, mild mannered C.C. Baxter:
which is the best: "whatever"...

that serenity of the 1950s...
movies... and that "leftover" of "jazz"...
as ever: the go home tow two me "son"..
another one of those canadian:
whips up a candy and says
it best via a: V: Vancouver and via
Beijing it is sinking...

sleepless in Seatlle had to become...
homeless without a Beijing....
or some other hare krishna
of a merry christmas and some...
merry to go round of a hanukkah...
because pearl jam told them to do so...
when... past library bells...
no... not vitalogy...
not the song red mosquisto...
what album?!
do i ******* look like some nova scotia...
bogus bog baron...
triade... fencing tartan...
new scot makes it big and canada is welcome...
eh eh what?!

low light...
immortality...
seattle will never make it toward
a focus on a canadian heaven@
no big ******* when it comes
to knitting-nirwana either...
brian or the brain of J...
and the "no way"...
what's that... bass or no bass at all?
canadian trump nirvana?

perhaps i'm just the most,
well assured, simpleton counter 16 old
queen preg Juno daughter of...
when daddy didn't make the jazz
band as the drummer...
hence: i was born...

that wide and open: highway...
perhaps that's why you can ever, ever,
play jazz. beside the impromptu...
the major focus is supposed with a pivot on:
well... it's not like
you ever heard it before,
or would ever have? would you?

so you write jazz... you impromptu...
you would never have ever had had
ever had listened to it before...
canadian grunge would have...
never... shot a dead-lead
into a cranium focus of... "whoops"...

and so it survived... and gave stockholm
impressions of a beijing yet to come!
perhaps: canada: that place i wished
my parents made it...
but... counting the current grey-matter *******?
here's to: here's to!
aici la sorbi unii apă din Bucureşti (SH when
you see a caron hiding)...

nirvana and the discoteque...
with US... or what's alice in chains
and the whole: growing up with grunge...
and the joseph roth "debate"...
the schattendieb: concerning actors...
actors being: der schattendieb...
shadow thieves...

aren't they? aren't actors elevated circumstances
of thieves?
what is there to steal...
if you're only, if you're "only",
and only, "stealing" a shadow?
well then: you're made pristine in the request to:
act!

here's to learning some romanian
and not focusing on the nativitistic concerns
of a people who...
besides..
yawn... and yawn once more...
figured only a history lesson was worth
being reminded...
and... not... not... assimilating to the modern
world was... ahem: YAWN...
because the hindu-hebrew et al....
and because... because...
the natives have spoken!
but we can't make the natives....
"suddenly"... bilingual "all of a sudden"...
we need new pampers new diapers...
we need more pencil sharpeners!
we need to go places where no Armstrong was
ever to be t.v. screened!

this really comes as a self-depecriating humor...
as to... why am i not a polyglot?!
why base it upon an english focus?
why am i not speaking german...
enough enough to move there?
why am i not speaking enough mandarin to
move to Vancouver with the housing crisis?
living with your parents
and not milking the Ed Gein meme?
too bad for you too!

the nirvana anthem is worth the ones that:
continue to come "un-expected"...
the pearl jam anthem is worth the ones that:
for some, obscure ******* reason...
didn't drop stone-cold dead...
like: the oops that never dies
and will never be a hey-presto or
that wonder-bill of a magic theatre translation...

so much for today, tomorrow...
and all those happy birthdays that everyone sends
but never wishes unto each other;
em... our lady peace? are you sad...
i was really this "young"?
did i grow up?
the besnard lakes: people of the sticks...
it's still canadian music...
isn't it?

it's hardly: chevalier, mult estes guariz...
rollo: duke of normandy...
blah blah m'eh blah monsieur!
as i am: Pan...
if i were to strip this... fiasco of the acquisitive
tongue... when no native is a king
before me but a citizen of my equal worth...
but not until! this time is ripe!
until... until the natives think themselves
as kings in their role of citizenship!
until that time comes...
before the natives... the english:
a most sordid lot! aren't they?
the pauper thinks himself a king...
as long as... there's a foreigner in their midst!
an englishman will think himself a king...
among foreigners...
when his fellow kin are too few!

what a barren man!
he will subsequently lever his presence among...
the empire of his... compatriots...
his... immigrants... his expatriate h'americans
and australians...
but unto me... come back... as either
scot, an irishman, a welshman,
and englishman: but first as king!
as first a king and the mortgage manager
of bricks and mortar!
imagine my disbelief:
Richard the Lionheart never spoke
a word of this hubris of a tongue!
this is the tongue that no king should dare speak...
this tongue is reserved for pride-riddling
peasants... commoners...
communists and inter-nationalists...
the fact that there are natives hiding in it like
some hobbits... only exemplifies my remarks...

i only repay... what has been lagging...
i repay... what is due...
an honest critique...
these people have already spoken
their self-critique...
i am literally adding nothing to it...
i am happy though...
that such people find each other...
to inbreed among each other...
the polacks and the anglican saxons...
the most welcome twin peoples of this welcome
earth...
i would sooner find myself ******* a kenyan
or a romanian girl that care to upkeep
the copernican or the darwinian
gene-tripping of continuity...
sorry...

i'd sooner **** a kenyan "chimp"
than an english or a ****** neanderthal albino;
but of course... that's until...
i hear the rob roy...
robert the bruce...
and how is it that Kuba: Jacob is a Hebrew
name... but... Matisyahu: Matthew: isn't?!

and there's no harvest of wheat...
there's only the... meandering of: flimsy grammar...
if only the testimony of pronouns usage...
and... how dobermann puppies were
raised for aesthetic purposes...
how their ears were made focus for
a snippet... to protude up-right like
circumcised *******-pieces of the last-day
advent chimps of man...

the circumcised man says:
no greater sorrow than the...
******* man...
says the same man...
who allows the un-circumcised woman
to... film herself donning the...
guillotine play-thing...
like it was never an Adam scratching
his cranium from a pandora of
a prophesy of a future: of a loss of hair...
but the woman is still allowed to *******...
the man is "not supposed to":
even if he is not yet circumcised!

this sort of logic must exist exlusively
among circumcised men...
i am... i am... dying...
to see how an f.g.m. model makes
it onto these **** websites...
and starts... beating stiff the already
eager pickled gherkin... into a ballet of prima ballerina!
yes... solo...
guess what? i will not hear...
a mouse's peep-squeak! concerning this...
the circumcised man giving lectures
to uncircumcised men about:
how best not to *******...
and then... what if the only **** i watch...
is bound, exclusively...
to uncircumcised women jerking off?
what if i need to curb my "**** addiction"...

honest to god! i'm looking for f.g.m. ****!
i'm looking for f.g.m. ***** solos and i can't find any!
i tend to ******* to videos of women still
equipped with ******* doing the sly-herring
bit of skinning a "missing minute"...
yes? yes?

i'm sorry... did you think that you had my *******?
if my lashing out on a chimp's lip of "tomorrow"
was ever so bad...
how about... treating your daughter to one of those muslim:
whip em while you're still at ease?
i'm not circumcised... she's not circumcised...
i'm in no way going to approach her:
to get her closer...
she's jerking off herself silly...
i'm just going to tango with her in her solipsism...
you will have to circumcise one of us...
which one are you going to circumcise...
if you circumcise the wrong ***...
perhaps you might meet the right mark of a snippet...

hardly finding a kippah in a ******* niqab's
worth of a snippet...
but you know how these orthodox people
bother themselves:
no one has yet to cut off their noses
or their ears...
and it's like they have anything "missing"
with their excess of ******* alongside
either phallus or ******...

i figured it must be an argument of the circucised...
if they allow women... to not be circumcised...
and... las vegas their **** to a paradise of
finger-licking-ooh... or goo...

oh i am bitter... because a circumcised man
said so... a circumcised man said so...
he said: the uncircumcised man should
not imitate an uncircumcised woman...
since... no circumcised man...
ever masturbated... over a video posted
by a circumcised woman!

'ave eye oi vey sabbaton?!

Call me the great American Sweede
I’ve clearly got it all.
But son, sun, little miniature mouse
My gloves don’t even fit right so..
You’ve gotta search cellar house.

A merry rise builds off a muscled fall.
So watch and learn; success is failure.

Arsonists!
Flee this game of fetch at once,
Banished from his house while constructing persists,
My lord accepts all gifts, but, stolen shingles.
This guy can’t catch em at all ash, just a fresh flicker.

Ts’ whut happens win ya work dog units.

Wipe yo feet in De Spain!
But take them off in the next hemisphere.
Keep snopin around Charlie and get linked to the chain,
Burn through to leave that mark and
You’ll flee through the dark again.

Well it all comes down to this brother
Mclenden
Is there one looking glass in dark dwelling?
Or do your eyes always fix on another?

Make cinders of sleeping pieces and blow up the pawns.
Suckling from the breast of success doesn’t always bring one piece.

Go ahead of me dawn
Try to stop this one at the root
Or it’ll pursue you
Too.

Red skies coat brown guys with beauty in white light eyes.

This world this life
The stupidity happening
Doesn't Jive
Every generation has
These growing pains
The strains from tearing away in order
To breathe
To one it's painfull
Loosing control
It seems to the
Other half liberating to finally be
Free to chase their own destiny.
And all the cultures of the world.
Some antiquated .
Some are bizzare maybe to you
Thats a beautifull point of view... Some are glorious and are jermain to the
Pompatus of love and pertain to nuturing each other in a respectfull way the fact that we all strife to be a little different
Actually makes us the same ..
So many things to deal with and only so many days .
I say **** tyrant fear mongers and liars perverts.....
Well perverted
Deviates and murderers haters biggetries is a learned festering disease ....and to those upper crest pulling these painfull puppet strings,
Using race
To perpatrate
And create a continuous animosity I say a million written horiable tortuotus deaths sprinkled with wishes that you feel every painful thing that family and children all over the world felt and especially the victims pain shared with you over and over and over until you swim in the lake of fire .
Which is the Hell of Hell's
As it swells the soul burns continually and every fear intensifies.
Every addiction
You will withdrawal with skull shedding sorrow full of shame ravaged and ***** with serrated knifes and in you your tears and snot the vomiting stench of decaying corpses and the visions of the ones you wronged and all ya all's memories. Are
Wiped from our minds there is absolutely no way for any one to escape hide or ever have rest or respite .no one to hear you .no time ever to look to for the end .......for you it  never will .no possible way out  .
Never
Ever
Evere
Until nope  
There is no hope and no way ever.
But hey at least now you know
And also I cool with that ..
I mean well I dont wish that on anybody .
So I don't.
It's not me .
Its you.
And you got it coming.
I'm just saying
Maybe we need to look at the roots of this
.what I mean is this.
The way we teach is like subliminal messaging and
Sorta like a feathery leading the witness thing
The way it is presented is absolutely capitulating.
And that's what we'll do untill
We actually  do something
.my loves my strengths my friend neighboors and country men
It's time to unite every color everyone
End this perpetuated way of teaching
And let's start healing a reaching for the stars .....a utopia where we all are treated as equals without condensation
Because we are ..and isn't really time for a change
This money driven lottoreia society is a diarrhea of dead end dreams
We **** for what a some paper we can trade for things
**** all those things

"Yeah"
"Ur not a drama queen"
"Actually ur the kind of
person that doesn't want drama"

                                                                       "yes thank god someone
                                                                        undersatnds!!! I just want to
                                                                        stand up for what I believe in
                                                                        and she just keeps on squishing
                                                                        me down. Well I am not going
                                                                        to take this is any more!"
"Whut r u gonna do"
                                                                        "I am just done being her friend.
                                                                        I thought that she was going to
                                                                        change but she has not so I am
                                                                        done. I dont need this in my
                                                                        life. I am so sick of being
                                                                        drowned in their ignorance. I
                                                                        know that she will not like this
                                                                        but i am going to be selfish for
                                                                        once in my life."
"Ohhh u do whuts right for u amy"
"I'll stand up for u"


                                   That last line melted my heart.

A radical thought rose to greet me. At the root of this adventure,
there was a dare to defy the unknown holders of keys to gates
and vaults and amphora, sealed to preserve the power of
knowing truth that makes free, by the very knowing.
The secret meanings exposed as conspiracy. Aha.
Readers know of things working together,
line upon line, next after last,
precepts are not commands, but ladder rungs.
Grip first precepts, take hold, know that we do know.
Each of us obeyed... the messenger from truth said read,
that there is ought to read goes unsaid,
be not deceived, that we have received,
accept... thank you... from one alienated mind to another.
This is the most-read piece I have on HP- from August of 2018,
- something changed in the world I share, I dove in to the depths
of the ocean of opinions, and found i could breathe.
----
A pocket of thought, ideas.
Impulses, has beens

epi-phenom-enal-con-currencies-synchron-icity
sorting places, thens and nows vying for attention

you see
we till stories in search of true tomorrows
not true
yesterdays (till, I said, not tell)
we **** the hard rows no one else will ***
so seed lies sown are never lies told, if the lies are never taught
or if the liars are caught before convincing the
intended crop to lie and swear a common liege Lord,
or die
for lack of knowing. Non-nascence, simplest
symptom to not see.
Whose death is yours to respond responsibly
to? My child's, or yourn?
In the early days, we knew less than we know now
about how knowing and growing were all
intended
to cost time. Ticks, ono motto whatever, the sound
gears and spiral springs pushing cogs
tick, one tooth tick at atime make

this rough, un polished, un glossed, is it wrong or

as I imagine a diamond in the rough must seem to a share cropper
experienced in diamond hunting, diamond prospecting,

prospecting expecting inspection to permit
seeing a 3.2 specific gravity,
specific
specify

species or spectacles,
spectators or special-if-eye-cation
value-en-abled. Weigh your mind in balance
with mine. I claim the mind of Christ.
What are the odds?

A wandering path, injoyable enable if-i-abble,
pacing is

everything, timing is everything, time is the test.

Time is the metagame.
Take your time. One word formed sylabble at a time.
Babble on, your confusion makes you mortal, to my mind.
Tick.
A quanta of time. Does time come in bits and pieces cernible,
but undiscernible from reality?

Babble.

Of course, time will tell. We learned that in our sleep, did we not?

Aesop taught us more than Moses, no,
Aesop taught us less than Moses.

But, we could learn to walk bearing the weight of knowing what
Aesop taught,
while we could not stand under the weight
Moses was said
to have taught.

Caught you, Jewboy. Whatchewknow?
The moral of the story.

THE IDEA is to win.
Beware the concision decision.
incisive devices, witty inventions.

Flip the shell, roll the bones, cast the runes and,
as luck might have it, die before your time.

Why factors are lies more oft than how factors.
Benefactors rule malefactors or
how or why would we invest our time in seeking reasons
to believe?

Is this the polished piece, the gemstone of specific gravity
(which currently means nothing to you. Here, you find too light
or too heavy, too weighty on the scale of specific value.)

Hard. Value hard, diamond hard, on Mr. Moore's scaled model of
Knowing exploding for reason's sake, raison d'etre, eh?
Too hard?
Not Mohs,
don't get me wrong.
We been Moore's law breaker all along.
We be manifested destinatory stories of heroes gone wrong.

Outlawed
knowing exploding to be reasoned with, by kind
children destined to become
written in stone, scarred by lies

Diamonds cutting diamonds, iron whetting iron
on eternity's edge.

Babylon, was it Bel's gate or fusion from below rising?

Magma fountains with diamond claws tearing the lands asunder
Is asunder still a word?, let me, allow me to define...
"into a position apart, separate,
into separate parts,"
mid-12c., contraction of Old English on sundran 
Middle English used to know asunder for
"distinguish, tell apart."
From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/asunder>
----

mumbler's humbler PIE, bowing before the knowers who
know nothing of my work.
Set apart, art thou holy aware?

Hermit me, meet the rest of me. The true rest that remained.
We live, you and I. Trust me, next is worth the wait.

Suffer needs no pain to make its point. Waiting is.

Grokk. WHO would believe that idea could live
through telegraphese to be tweet meets for the
Cosplay clans. How never grokked a rock,  why even less.

Strange, not be long in this
place. if
place this be. Odd
set aside
torn asunder
blown away.
Awake, little birdie, tell me true,
what's a man like me to do?

Did you meet the famous Mr. Blake?
I cleaned his chimney, way back when, chimbly's whut
we called em. Smoke stacks belchin' black
makin' black moths invisible to voracious
gulls.
Now the peppered moths are free
to be white-ish, for better or worse.

----

right, now, do right or

miss the mark,
the specific mark you made, maybe,
imagining, abstract obstructions missed
by the skin on Job's teeth as you run past

right now to more. You know?

----=

Story telling was the same as lying when I was a child, to me.

Telling stories was my gift I never took. Or am I lying? or mad,
in the old way.
Chailot's rag picker was my best friend.

No noble thought ever found it's home in my head, once
I thunk it, it stunk to high heaven, for me stinkin' thinkin' it.

Po' ems sang sour to fiddles wit' one strang and drums with no
cymbals
Screamin' he owed m' soul the comp'ny sto' bang bang thud.

I died, he lied, and lived to tell this story, ****** if I know,
****** if I don't.

True as true can be. I am lost, but once was found,
lyin' rough, uncut in acres of unseen gems.
----
* Voltaire refused to teach me any thing I could not define:
late 14c., deffinen, diffinen, "to specify; to fix or establish authoritatively;" of words, phrases, etc., "state the signification of, explain what is meant by, describe in detail," from Old French defenir, definir "to finish, conclude, come to an end; bring to an end; define, determine with precision," and directly from Medieval Latin diffinire, definire, from Latin definire "to limit, determine, explain," from de "completely" (see de-) + finire "to bound, limit," from finis "boundary, end" (see finish (v.)). From c. 1400 as "determine, declare, or mark the limit of." Related: Defined; defining.

So, imagine facets unseen, I am at least a meme, a bubble rising on the tide. Think, as you will. Amen?

eyes closed
listening inside

trying
to hold still

enough for you
to grace me

with your
confusing

*******
blinding

presence
******* write down

goes with that?
whut


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis