come
take us a walk along the crimson tide
together
along the Baltic sea forever
in to the Forbidden Forest hand-in-hand
onto Main and Fifth avenues intersection
naked and unafraid
pose like  frozen statutes
on The Metropolitan stages
as puppets played by nobody
and get us a drink after closing hours at
the hoochie coo I know that stays open way past
legal hours

come
          sunrise or
                           shame
come the coldest
            days
                          balloons do not float
on dead breezes or smiles
             
nor is honey sweeter without a sting
            
never does freedom come
           without slavery once          rose buds attached to thorns
                              ***** 
blooms of love always end

                             nature
is that plain.

Once the causality came raining down and the differences were known like how actions are irretrievable ten tons of actuality
Weighed upon me. It happened one rainy day under a tin roof with leaks that sent drops on my cheeks like tears. I looked out through foggy lensed reality and supposed this was it. Truth.
****. Truth was foggy.
Reality was a dream.
All I'd known sensed felt believed
Could it be just visions of fairy dust cauldrons boiling mystique
Imaginations  false realisms?
Was all my life like the waves of heat on pavement waving. And had my time been spent
Hastily?
As the rain found ways through the tin My
senses  returned
Briefly
Still uncertain
I looked out from
The roof
And the rains chatter
To find
A rainbow
On the far side the long field
Of wheat
Glowing
High above the pine  grove
East of there and here and now and then
I lost it
Crying
I'll never know the answers
But I've
Come close

wander I will
eyes to a northern star
alone, again

nine days gone of heaven's gift
a rift in the new
curtains.... show

me time, make a place
where the moon
graces my face

where a slice of life may be eternity-
a day....like her cries in the
dark nights

bothered flames of
bedstead candle
wicks

like the breeze of a day coming
cold and shallow
as my world

come Saturday
afternoon
shall make lights grow dim

but hearts fire grow
in all distance
in memories

glance

does
         to create
       immortality
plant
            a seed
       that will grow
to
            out live
                      me

the safe feeling
I can be me with you
naked as my birthday
with my smile wide as
you accept me
truthfully honest
eat crackers with the wine
take you in my arms confident
I do please you,
it shows in how we
can be silent for hours
how we just need ourselves
as we are
how the clock is unplugged
no where else to get to
no blushing
just the rush of when you reach out to me
the hairs on my arm stand up
just like the day
I met you

are the roses the poses of *** scented
posies daffodils the  long stems of grass
the moss the rutting of rabbits
in the field(s) without
ravaging man's hands and intrusions

If we were more the masters might
we plant more hibiscus or petunias
or forget-me-nots
and I see
the mastery of natural selection

by being the one selected out
and it happens and
life goes on
and the fields bloom with beauty
year after year
with or without me

but man is jealous
of nature and seeks to tame
the untamable
the wildness the random
seeks to explain why
and hold to his breast

a velvet touch a silk rose
his wisdom
as better

the coming sun
tomorrow...
an opus on her light-
to love...
to peace...
           eternity.

To you
to me
to children' destiny-

earths offspring, her seed....
to empathy.

destiny....

eternity.

Thou shalt not envy your lack of emojis
nor covet others abundance of cute
little doodads!

Right On Mike!!

Here's a strategy
Surround yourself with Generals
old glory and the anthem
Pick fights with ethnicities you don't like with twitter rantings
Trump is an Emperor there is no doubt
A self absorbed narcissistic caricature born of empirical arrogance
Government is no longer in entity that needs to be studied
All you have to do is run it like a business and reject the proclamations of Jefferson and Madison as mere *******
Banksters become Patriots creating wealth on Franklin's printing press with interest
While Paul Reveres ancestors boo the players who protest
White privilege never ends
White privilege never sacrifices it's position
Instead deflects by omission creates hallowed traditions
Calls it history or sacrifice
ghostly heroes
rise from the dead
Gory glory hallelujah
Congress raise your fists
Your purple stained fingers plugging your ears
Social and economic justices
fell behind and now are in arrears
And there is hell to pay
In this American way....

Mike Marshall  Patriotism

The politicians have been milking the patriotism cow for some time, at the same time they want to ignore veterans' needs. As soon as some citizen on the street or representative in Congress or the white house starts espousing patriotism, a big red flag goes up in my mind. "Patriotism" is the first refuge of carpetbaggers, and it trips my gag reflex.

True patriots are not shouting their esprit from the rooftops or in front of microphones. True patriots are quietly doing patriotic things and they ask for no recognition for doing what seems natural and necessary.

Our alleged leaders get us into wars that are unnecessary and often detrimental to our own best interests. Our soldiers, sailors, and airmen do their bidding, right or wrong. They do so without asking for anything from us except support. And we can support the soldiers without necessarily condoning the leaders who put them in harm’s way, and often forget about them when they come home, unless it's election time. Then these same self-gratifying idiots bring out the flags and thump their chests.

Let's remember the flag is merely a cloth with a design on it that represents some very great and lofty goals, including the right to express our opinions, our dreams, and our dissent. We cannot lessen the worthiness of those goals by burning a red white and blue piece of fabric or kneeling during the playing of our national anthem. But we can damage those aspirations and the symbolism of our flag and anthem by denying our fellow humans the right to express them.

Let's focus instead on upholding those things we believe in. Let's buy a meal for a homeless person. Let's make sure our neighbor does not have to choose between eating and buying needed medicine or health care. Let's ensure children don't have to go hungry. Let's endeavor to provide an affordable education to all of our children because that secures their future and the future of this country. The thing I have the least time to consider is whether or not some human is burning a flag or taking a knee somewhere. And standing for the anthem doesn't make you a patriot any more than wearing a cowboy hat makes you a cowboy.

Each verse of The Star-Spangled Banner ends with "O'er the land of the free." Both the flag and the anthem symbolize the freedoms our forefathers gave their lives for. Why? Because they valued those principles (freedom of speech, etc.) so highly. Freedom of expression is freedom of speech. That was decided hundreds of years ago. I would defend anyone's right to freely express themselves. That means they can stand, kneel, squat, sit, lay down, or stand on their heads. But I will never defend any person's right to suppress the very rights that our flag and anthem symbolize.
I reject the divisiveness of Trump and every other small mind that does not understand or appreciate how freedom of speech actually works and is actually represented by our flag and anthem.
The ultimate disrespect to our country, to our flag, to our national anthem, to our founding fathers, and to the soldiers who suffered for us to protect our right to take a knee is to deny the absolute freedom of speech embodied in our Constitution.

Can you tell me please,
Who the **** finds it a breeze
To scan poems in several identities
Just to minus all the
Comments?

dabnagit  Travel back to before the nation began
and see Crispus Attucks killed — the
first American to die for American freedom, a freedom denied to his African and Native American forebears. Take a knee to honor his sacrifice and the other four dead.

Take a knee in grief that he who would become president minimized these first martyrs as "a motley rabble of saucy boys, negros and molattoes, Irish teagues and outlandish Jack Tarrs.”

Stand at Morris Island, South Carolina, where American soldiers fought to keep a young nation whole, a field of blue with 35 stars, not 22. Take a knee for the 54th Massachusetts Voluntary Infantry and its score killed at Fort Wagner, a hundred more presumed dead.

Take a knee in grief that the U.S. Army rescinded its promise of equality and paid the 54th little more than half a white soldier's monthly pay. Take a knee in awe at those who refused any pay that was less, yet died with "Massachusetts and Seven Dollars a Month!" on their lips, defending their white comrsdes' retreat.

Take a knee for Sgt. Medgar Evers, who defeated fascists at Normandy only to be killed by them once he was back home.

Take a knee from the suckerpunch by a U.S. senator from Mississippi in 1917, who said the return of black veterans would “inevitably lead to disaster.” Once you “impress the ***** with the fact that he is defending the flag” and “inflate his untutored soul with military airs,” it would be easy for him to conclude “his political rights must be respected.” Take a knee to honor those who died defending freedom. Take a knee to weep for the sharp rise in lynchings after both world wars — following the return of those impressed, untutored ***** souls inflated with military airs for having served.

Look at the lists, look at the videos, look at the witness testimony, look at the double standard: Amadou Diallo. Manuel Loggins Jr. Ronald Madison. Kendra James. Sean Bell. Eric Garner. Michael Brown. Alton Sterling. Philando Castile. (Take a knee; this could take awhile.) Akiel Denkins. Gregory Gunn. Samuel DuBose. Brendon Glenn. Freddie Gray. Natasha McKenna. Walter Scott. Christian Taylor. Ezell Ford. Akai Gurley. Laquan McDonald. (Take a breath.) Tamir Rice. Yvette Smith. Jamar Clark. Rekia Boyd. Shereese Francis. Ramarley Graham. LaTanya Haggerty. Margaret LaVerne Mitchell. And on and on. And on.

Take a knee for the unarmed, or subdued, or even fleeing men and women killed by officers pledged to protect and serve. Take a knee too for the officers killed by gun-toting gangsters…or by homeowners fearing a home invasion. While you're at it, take a knee for the more than 50 people killed every year by toddlers exercising their Second Amendment rights.

And take a knee for the soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines who died so that a football player can take a knee as long as some people are shot by police in the back, or even when down, or even after they're on their knees…while others for some reason are far less likely to be shot in the same circumstances. Take a knee, Rodin-like, and ponder why.

Take a knee and join those who are taking a knee out of respect not only for the flag, but for the republic for which it stands, one nation…

(Striving to be a more perfect union)

…under God…

(Who "created all men equal"; "male and female he created them.")

…indivisible…

("Build that wall!" "Lock her up!" "Fire the sons of ******* if they won't stand for this flag but run them over if they protest a rebel flag!")

…with liberty and justice for all lives can't matter unless black lives matter.

So for these all, and many more, take a knee. Take your time, but take some heart. Then lift each other up and lock your arms. Play ball.

independent
    of any benevolence
unadapted to lush
     green lawns hues
watching grasshoppers bounce
     mockingbirds attack
the grey clouds approach
     bursting
with renewing
      thunder claps bringing
rain
drop
drop

closing
approaches

a feast
of rainbows
after the
storm.

Every day I reveal
I give a little more
something special, so real to life
a different side of life
those pieces of me no one can steal
every night I'm where it takes me
to where I find that part of me
that needs no excuses
nothing to change
nothing to add to
But what if it isn't the truth? What if I am a product of fear? When I look at my keyboard, I remember things I cannot say aloud. That is the darkness.
nothing to subtract
the fairy of all things sharp and dangerous.
a day in the sun a light
That casts no shadow,
Pushing through all darkness
To reveal the only truth
a smackeral here,
a smidgen there
i stitch into the weave
as my truth
as i can bare,
leaving me naked
and bereft
but as a milliner of words
so fine
I stitch together a tapestry
of twine
upon a silken bed of shadow
the words, they matter
on the morrow
Twisted threads of golden thought
weaves crimson tears
that taught
the one that orates
as they weave
leaves a pattern
that can't deceive
cleft, my palette
of words, sacred,
alone but not forsaken-
created, awakened and tasted
and i stop for a while
to taste the silence between words
the echoes of my steps
roaming inside a dream
Chinese boxes with corners that
domino like the seals
of envelopes, they
stick to sticky
seals of words,
telling of straw earth.
sinkhole, the word frightened me as a child
even now I tread lightly
allaying the inevitable
i tread lightly, lightly... allaying
the inevitable
babble of...
"lustful gushing
of wordlove
that cascades
from my brain
enervated, regenerated
obligated
to explain
the gears
and cogs
of this
clockwork world
write....again
and again
the never ending
refrain
oh listen to the silence
listen
between the words
from
the death of one breath;
to
the birth of the next

complex
         a different contest
the baddest ***
combination of unique
       syllables
flexing
              neurons in the mirror
passing out
   while holding my breath waiting
this is internet
              reality
I spasm into the vastness
             of tweets
of plusses
       hearts I never see
I spasm
  go nuts
but my complexion
          
clears up.

compost
   organic
ammonium
   aeration
conditioned
   fertilizer
I am
   or one-
day
   will be
anaerobic
   digested
unfit for
    human
consumption
    bio-gas
****
    alternative
I.....

with YouTube
     enough? Olde English 800
an Intel dual core processor
      a blunt a *****
8 Gb of ram begins
          a memory
160 dollars in a SSD
      I get an STD
but heard through two tiny speakers
       a paid woman's words
and memories of yesterday.

today

I heaved a big sigh

so maybe

I can stop the

bashing of my head

against the concrete

I worked hard alone

to get the scream out

and tomorrow

may be different

maybe

I will fall down

all worn out fighting

the urges to bash against

the unyeilding

grey

I and you are an orchestra,
  I use my whole body as my baton, you accompany
together my instrument, I a director,
  you my symphony, my harp my
harmony, my musician. My composition
  alone is arms waving in air, our collaboration
is entrance
   about to come into destiny count and circumstance,
twirls we do you on your melodies,
I
my baton.

there it is in my hindsight post now brain
all the things that haunt me like  
they are hidden but aren't
times and incidences
that I might have been
out of touch with reality
and
I had thought I had
tucked them all away neatly to
forever go unknown
to be just times that don't
have anything to do with theme that is now
and
I found I can tuck and fold and hide things
from myself for a minute
quite well
but in the end it all comes forward
to the forefront
eventually
and that is where I am
right between facing and
running again

with crystal clearness
blue eyes green at times
cries into foggy windows
sit I did my elbows on sobbing
windowsills minutes
things making necessary
my armor
my forbidding me to actually feel
revolting sins,
I spoke I thought I did,
upon the cloak of trueness,
May I come close.

conscience
through every one of my lifes
accrued
lichens symbiotically
serve  as
a metaphor
I rely on organisms
they rely on
me

Let me peep in
Stick my nose up
Your crack
See whether it's her his or him
Cause I'm a Patriot
Gotta protect whataboutism and
Tax cuts, glory to he who made this country free,
Worried more about business
what Goes on behind doors
Closed than how children eat or
are clothed

more
Interested in Disney than government
And my constituents becoming commies giving one cent to the poor
When all the big corps need tax breaks, you know as is common sense

Let's impeach someone with no proof hoping it increases the odds or better yet ignore the sins of big oranges
2 billion son-in-law got from the Saudis

Why try to improve lives, not about it, when so much grift and enticement we can foster by kissing the rich ***.
It's easier, Cause we aren't the party of religion....we subvert it.  Use it for profit.

Like the old white confederate. We lose but don't die. Gonna keep on keeping on oppressing until you wake up

Asymptomatic of the cure I once died
From the pause of blood flow tween my eyes seeing stars I tried to breathe a deep breath and I just wheezed knowing , still conscious, I guess, that oxygen was vital to digestion as I'd partaken earlier that evening of a footlong meatball sub from Luigi's  Italian Deli down in Queens, while falling on the sidewalk hard a big fat Muslim guy all wrapped in cloth from head to toe minding his own business as New Yorkers do tripped on my foot falling dead upon my stomach hence causing this chain of events:
His left elbow crashed upon the concrete walk whereby a jolt of electric pain shot from his funny bone all way to his groin in practice quick silver his body draped head to toe in silken robes ****** left gravity not receding yet his chest fell directly on my torso prone squeezing my left aorta to push an inordinate amount of blood through me rushing oxygen to brain to tissue vital things, wherein his right side following the rest arm flailing wildly came to rest with a resounding smack onto my right cheekbone and lip and I responded kicking up a ****** my right knee in nerve reaction into his groin place mid-section which startled the horse drawing the big white carriage that had pulled to the curb right next to our christian and muslim collision and down the busy
thouroughfare with taxis honking and busses and multitudes of walkers  between the stone still buildinged avenue ran fast clipping the hotdog vendors cart sending weiners flying left and buns tight right mustard and ketchup spraying the vendor a multitude of innocents the white stallion the open carriage relish raining onions stinging the cops eye who startled pulled his taser triggered a nun walking nearby nearly saintly who jumped upon us two the causators the me and Allah, learned his name later over a beer at the pub, and squashed his face with her rear into mine.
It was caught on tape. The whole thing.
But, you know....
Conspiracies say

conspire.....

Yours: snapping turtle in the cattail thrushes;
             IMPRESSIVE   you are!
Impressive you be.
              My rage ensues at cattail thrushes......
by your rage I steam
              and swagger bemused
succumb in glorious rendevous,
              amazed.
Mine: we conspire secretly,
SO naughty..... poetically.

in her room about the doorway peeps
out at her hearing things
she has been this way before hates
how it feels
the paranoia
just there is nothing else
feels the urgency of another day
almost ready to be her angel she thinks
one hit and it all
goes down the way it has before
no relenting the urge she speaks  
to unrequeited loves and more

she sits alone on the floor at two thirty
picking her skin for bugs and the floor for one last hit
sorry for his insistence
I gave her twenty dollars more

it is all I could do

In line fractually straight
But angled and perspective shows
In minds eye
How they meet somewhere
Distant
Take ten steps
That horizon does too
Very much like how perception is
Once you
Are on your knees
Examining it
How close
Is now
How tomorrow can
Be thought of
As receding no
Matter how
Fast you run .
Its uncatchable. You
Can't grasp it even
Going stark
Raving mad
On fast thoughtful
Feet. Run.

eyes
a hand
lips
a kiss a hand farther
a moment a bliss
a bit farther
look around
no one else near
a breast exposed
hip grinding dance
backseats empty
not for long

numbers already proven to be
larger than the smallest infinity
a set ( of things, people, possibly
perhaps chances too)
more than one point is always
one
an innate expectation (probability
deducted to be seventy percent)
part of evolution
part of the stream that flows from
(the sun, star births, carried into)
infinity with smaller bursts
childbirth,
death,
ad nauseum

I shall be the born ultmate the next
*** on your ***** that makes
your eyes open
or gasp in the moonlight
I shall call forth your demons
desires needs
make them bow down
I am me
and you are me and we
are all it is
you are the inspiration
for this for the sun to
rise tomorrow
you   are  all
there is
sit look
off into skyscrapers
or meadows golden if you wish
act as if the control
is not yours
I am going to teach you
oh hell it so is

We had this conversation
and couldn't even finish it
throwing
clothes to the floor
last Saturday
now we tried to say hi
and are ******* in knots
on the floor
I love hell out it
but tell me
who is your favorite band?

where
at this o'clock
are you this hour
the big hand barely moving
as I stared
at it
the little one goes round and round
dizzily
and still I have four more hours
'til
I jump out that small door
calling
coo coo

I need to start writing younger
like in hip hop about cool ****
the trend is younger
the millenial
I thinks

and I had my day
in the sun the gutter
had our sayings
like cool and groovy
made like we was

(cool)  I tried not to say that.

******* are cool

I am auto
mathematically
my own biographer
reading journals endlessly
old love letters not burned yet
interviewed all the survivors
Parsed the ones from the remainders
the lies from the strangers
how they had dinner with you
and both your ******
waited outside hearing the
fists and words fly
said they were about to call 911
but thought better
took the dividends and squared them
with being
exponential
logged all the debits against credits
balanced the sheet wrote notes to me the CEO
and protested in the streets
with bold lettered signs
saying
how my corporeal corporation
is somehow female repressive
equal rights for all
and such representations
just all mango mentally managed by
my tangled self-analyzations
it gets complex trying to footnote
all the references
as I try not to plagiarize myself
knowing I copyright
my *******
before flushing it down

For want of breathless views,
Landlocked seemingly
Between crests of
Rolling hay green grass and numbing tedious pines
Lost like a wolf who ventured too far
Unto the oceans beach and knew
His quest was hopeless,
How about we venture forth imaginating then how do I guess what wolves do speak
When obvious the feelings of creatures must
Be holier than our lust and treason
But tarry not
In self-denial your eyes when cornered,  
Don't deny,
Are just as tortured vile
As any wolf
Or creature
Threatened

wisdom. love
of logic does never presume, dear heart.
Regressive thoughts are justifications for psychic visions.
follow a chain a progression into axioms into infinity,
it could revolve forever, and get to where?
I state, for I am, I know the thought.
For what I know is a circular statement.
I build rational, I reason, look more at the past, then the future,
I still have more probability, philosophically,
of predicting, or becoming my hope,
eternal.

it is an impediment If I am focused
on correct
if I am seeing your decisions on
me
why do I ask? Am I correct.
I want go sail on my impediments.

I pause in places, you do not.
I write my heart out, trying
to let out
what hurts what bothers
what is conjuring my inner thought?

If I am meek, or contemplating, what will you
or I think of me?
If I speak my truth, and leave a comma out,
or mispell (ie) one word,
does my feelings go unheard?

take off your coat, take off your hat
take off whatever, then sit
here close to me, closer.
tell me you love me,
take off that wig
now your teeth
Ohhhh, yes!
babe!

BLASTOFF!!!!

lying on my back on the porch under a fairy tale night sky
a three-quarter moon peaked and wove
through a filigree lace of lingering white
lighting the backdrop canvas of dark infinity
with a daylight blue
I started counting the stars
like my hopes they were
and got to infinity and
lost count of
the ones I counted twice
and it did not matter anymore

Ten times last one ten hours past one
ten things to do before I pass on
or gain a new perspective
or listen to my sub-conscious' directive
to pass on to someone my knowledge
what I learned in the school of hard knocks
or just sit here give the world one last whirl
maybe get drunk run through
the cornfields again naked
play ring around the rosy
or pass out
spread-eagled glorious in the
morning on the grass
with full double visions
the sun peeking
over yonder past
the scrub oaks in
the distance
at last
I've found her
she glows
and the darkness
empties the world
like a toilet flushed
counter-clockwise
pure water and hope
now

from 1000 to zero
back again
I count
from zero to 1000
see
compounding integers
surround me make me numb
but
intervene into my
insanity.
Gives me a tangent a sine
to keep my mind
busy.
I seem to count
infinitely.

oh, but one  innocent young lass
quoted here , in her longing cries
her plaintive sighs, must be at last
remembered if but for her eyes
her form of function, her knowing glance,
her  heart beating hell from betwixt her thighs,
a breast awaiting the lad
in firm anticipation, her lips moistened
with desires, the night
counts every beat, of heart and breast
and in between, her song
is sung in wishful prayers
and pacing loathing,
every second
she stands waiting
counting
heartbeats

count
    1,2,3
again, relax
     it's
not that bad.

Sing
    do da dee
again, collapse
       if
you need to.

Pout
   wee, woe, is me
again, get it all out.
       it's
not really that
        meaningful.

Ivy stood
Around the door
The address clearly marked
In gold numbers and cursive,
1023 Oak Street,
The man in brown short pants
Noticed, imagined the tangled green vine reaching down as the yellow sun passed west growing right round the box and opening ,

No inhabitants of the two-story  Colonial came running.
He set the package down.  
Ivy seemed to try
To reach out.

Under the covers I dream
Black out reality
And color everything
My palette
Cower into my side
The starkness
Hold myself in the
Dark
Where only my eyes
See the yellows
And the green inside

perhaps,
a secret Soviet
double latte
ordered
on what was supposed to be the
"secret" channel?

anyways, a craftsman never says, he
polishes out the rough spots and
burnishes the scars, like a man does.
Sharpening his knife on his
leg polishing until
his eyes burn
calming
his wife and offspring
stronger than hardened steel.
A man on a wire is
sturdy  
glowing like thunder
in any storm.
The force of man
creative is
even more
powerful
higher more
the peak of true
love, because
he is kind.

Cranberry juice is not meant
as a topical medicament
for the treatment of private part itches,
I found out when I confided to
this girl online
that I had this serious itching
predicament
in places I didn't want to mention out-loud,
I told her how I had tried
Preparation H, Lamisil,
baby powder, Cortisone ointment,
Eucerin, and even Calamine lotion,
she said I probably had
a yeast infection, that
men can get them,
and her having the usual equipment
that tends to get this type of malady more frequent,
I took her suggestion of one glass a day
of cranberry juice.
Poured one glass over the offending itchy parts
before my shower each day.
When I told her her remedy was not doing anything but staining my privates, I heard her laughing, she dropped offline for ten minutes.
My face turned red when she finally came back and said laughing,
"I meant to drink it!"