By whom, strike Courage, does infect the Louse
Whose ominous Trails let ****** Thoughts to bleed
Then the Female - whose Nickels cost the House
Let wounding Heresy spore Thumbs to speed
Maybe my words be Words permit bequeath
Append your Permission my Heart pretends
Else voice this Rebel; Be Rebel's own beneath
Harm my Efficancy will purse Contends
Though pause the Bitter Pill invite to swallow
Only through your Certificate spot this Call
Yet by Wisdom-Tooth's share spare this Sparrow
Knowing, by Mammon, Like-Hands do appall.
So her Perfume - inspire for your Date
Absorb her Womb's Treasures though none too late.

That Ladies compound such Prime Beauty's Field
As Aramaic known one Pure Language be
So would I jest to your Harmless Conceal
And Mark our Saviour with such Blasphemy
Yet through His Cross beg this Honourable Save
Though by the Wheel my Allegiance despite
His Universal Hand; Blow kisses to your knave
Then her Just Hugs cause Rebellion incite
And now? If that Editor shall you Heed
And ferment every Nuggish Word he writes
Would we say ******; As Osama indeed
Laughed his Grand Project of Onerous Sprites.
Still my Heart plants; Yet blast those Berry-Boons
Too seeded for my Taste though fit for Raccoons.

Far past Fardels which these Signals carry
Any but Glitches pend we may conclude
That for intent Somber Moments tarry
Only to apply such Best Bet in you
So why do your Spot-Clouds drizzle Reason,
If Reason for Reason's Sake mark Reason's End?
Whilst by the Hand - cryonised by Treason
For whose Party those Tories do Amend
Yet prove this - in Waxing most Trodden Floors
Mostly encourage to Slip and Defect
Yet as we Lie - Hymns imprint on those Doors
Cruising our Handles to Resurrect.
And let the Will - in his own ****** Soul
With Clasping Hands seep a Part of your Whole.

But would you Judge the Matter by a Horn
Since they Fail to Meet your Revels, I suppose?
Pasty Rebels do indeed cause such Scorn
Yet Blame them Not for the Themes they Propose
Hence their Names. And just as Proud their Support
Though Blind Praises your Base Human refuse
To Feed the Owls; With Worms their Claws report
Sieve the Trendie and Nottie by your Cue
Our Business, it's not. So banked by your Time
As Circles and Lines define your Scripture
Thinking - how prolonged such Kited Define
To stomp the Sinner yet save his Feature?
Do I speak with Gods? Or Titans less base
Prior to Digress just Salted your Face.

By the Five-Ringed Gods of Adrenaline
Pour the Plasma's place for Victory's Fair
Of most Sacred Masters peered and pristine
Prim Art above Profits; Yet still Aware
That the Spirit - recorded by the Muse,
Took her Efficiency a Best Blown Ride
To see each Win; Yet Bloated Heads subdue
To preach Sane Messages others will Find
Not yet Delayed - still - keep the Feathers strong,
Your Trademarked Swan times Frequency beloved
If still - Nineteen - left the ******* Pig's Throng
And your Path-of-the-Prince takes Currency.
For I, Spells and Chants soak Growth in my Age
Read my Almonds be: The Path-of-the-Sage.

The Sexton returns. And in his own Heart
Saw the Ivory-Cloth left at the Tomb -
That same Fabric where his Memories part
By Un-Conditioned Labours bled by Earth's Womb
Thus asked himself: "How this Ferrimost Man
Caused a Nation's Pride by Honour devote
One Deed foreign; By the Journalist's Hand
Of Teary Stripes make a Good Man denote!"
Then. They came. One Rose and Three Soldiers bleed
Caused by their Instincts to recall their Lord
That feign Regrets by their Last Hour's Need
Refresh another Year infused by his Word.
The Sexton withdraws. And resumes his Path
To Live his own Moments on their behalf.

Coneys, that they Breed succulent for Stew
Break this Measure from their Kind populate
As such with my Heart; Bred moments for you
Learn to Love my Mortal Self abdicate
Why this Fragged Lesson chose these Ducts to Weep
When Frilliment's Time corks better with Age
Subtracting your Smile; Which Bisanity deep
Extracted a Loony from that of a Sage
Tripe, it seems, that my constricting Decide
To leave my Bells ringing for your Enrouse
Such god you are; Deaf to Heaven's subside
And Dive past Sentimentals to your House.
And what House it was deserving as Home
Twill bet you prefer my Mouth shouts alone.

This Eminent Night paste your Birthday Bed
And once beyond the Lines did Celebrate
Which soon enough most Leavened Hands instead
Cry for your Return-on-Turnips belate
Yet come these Savours invite your Prunes wash
As far-fetched Dames sowed Yeast to spice their Grin
Hoping to raise each their Best Flavours cast
All the whilst One already placed therein
Which in her Form - her Greatest Gift offer -
Of her Warmth wrapped your Little Man hugs neat
And in her Jump - Nerves blew your Mind asunder,
Back-and-Forth rub this Hour's Hormones repeat.
Still the Candles blew; Ignored the Musky Air
Which both Cherries broke; As Predicted there.

To keep your Kind, then lock Species a-way
Merely since they Write on Coloured Paper
Then shift most Notes for some Music display
Only to read Blank Pages un-bother
How Sad then, this Plym's Dark Philosophy
Which due Concealed un-willing to Espouse
For this Letter's Event break such Foundry
And Seven Year's Culture wasted in-House
Prevent to occur such Low-Headed Deed
If encourage these Locked Minds educate
Other Gifts abroad; Sans Intent proceed
And Embrace as part of your Growing Rebate.
Such is Tolerance. With both Hands laid bare
With no Daggers cut; In case you lose Care.

If it be that Scribbling you recommend,
That Tug which based Best Masculine subscribe
Far from Recall I chose to comprehend
Your Dew-Shaped Image on that Train you ride
Perhaps a Bore? Or some Leisure intent
Wound dear Jack's Art for Snow-Flake's decency
And soon you Slumber; Whilst some Capture meant
The Holy Male betwixt Limbs may Fancy
Funny un-agreed, your Bewhistling Tune
Whatever your Issue my Tweets with her
Cast the Ghost's Slap-Face! My Frown be your Boon
When Filtered Friendships were what we confer!
Yet Hearing therein - of Ear's Hurt remain
A Mate's Sacred Whisper ignored in Pain.

Your Plans, my Follies to this Planned Event
Since your After-Victory bakes un-planned
To Note your Prayers for these Dames' consent
And the Serpent-God's Children sings at-hand
Now by this Bile - your Testosterone give
Demure the Elders by your Brighter Pew
Appears to Reason; Their Sweetest Seeds live
Only for such Store display for a Few
Yet the Frost you owned took plague by your face
Shows a lot how Open your Doors could be
Though ATTITUDE - the Goblin of Disgrace
Makes all the Difference which most could see.
Your Goodness keep Faith; Your Prime Youth endorse
Niño to Señor: The New Driving Force.

Of Teens, then Twenties, then Thirties galore
All breed Divine your Best Manlihood's spent
So in spare the Words; Waste Language for more
Spawn Fourty Tempters your Hormones relent
And who is to Blame given such Stage we Live
Even though imply some Old Crone's Counsel
Were your Stones by the Road; Much your Peers sieve
These Drunken Records pinch by the Handle
Your Smile caused the Crime. That which we Remind
Where Better Models make such Style unique
Yet - not Enough. Be that Mum's Genes in Kind
Assures your Mark which the World dares to Speak.
Tell me again. Why the Added Arms you Knead
Though Bread bakes its own more Sugar you plead?

How Serious should be for this Wonder at
That very same Point locked kisses to the Wall
Whilst these Incarnations modelled Months that
Must never Surprise your Mum's Eye to befall
Why bother? If with Pheromones invite
White Hags and Chicken-Hawks apart from Dames
Should you most Expect to be Drawn in-spite
Your Needed Economy must Split these Pains
Fair you'll accept then our own Business be
Then Hammer these Virtues misinterpret
To ******* bleed as Dodgy Stones flee
Even by Distance un-mind to beget.
Just my Point. To which all such Points deranged
Your Judgment approved; And Verdicts arraigned.

How often it takes to live in Review
When Hard-Bound Cases never sate enough
Of you and I - Respected Crafts adieu
To have Moments subtled yet rendered so rough
With Meanings as these no wonder consume
On how Equalled Dimensions create some sense
Yet fail to meet be such Reason subsume
Based on Degrees sapped to our own Defense
Thinkers, maybe. Yet Actions your Deeds score
More than which my own Carpels could apply
Foremost Succeed; As made Success your Fore
Which the Reclusive Verser struck on-High.
And she was Right; That Flower's Universe bloom
As yours the Board; Whose Waves herald you soon.

Those Multiple Mouths which Sing for your Hand
By your Credentials a Challenge to fulfill
Either your Choice - or Customs of the Land
Promote which Evidence raised on your Skill
And in such Moments were most Trials formed
By happenstance the Offspring of your Fame
How pertinent must these Addicts suborned
Inhale your beclaimed Coloured Life in Pain
Yet your Business keep still; And still your Invest
Twice the Income to allow your Tongue numb
By her Dictate; An Instructor divest
Keep Trolls and Nurses away from your Comb.
Yet what of them - so jolly Chant in Praise
Demote from Human; Promote to Disgrace.

Some prostrate your Temple; Others your Fame
Yet where of the Rest price the Value of You?
Which Rare Squirrels pouch those Walnuts by Name
And cheer Percentage high by what you Do
Only if this Truth - as Truth must become
Allow this Crazy Cherry to numb your Sweet
Then arrange your Means whether Sensed or Numb
Yet pocked by such Stars a Challenge to Meet
These the two Polar Girls bared. If for self
Breathe Old Life as Fresher Documents made
To pursue your Dive as a Soldier's bereft
And leave your Scent endure Falsehoods be Brave.
As for this Bard - Repeat his Words be True
Yet still your Accept will be up to you.

Inspiring Needle, pierce his fresh Leather,
Inscribing Earth's Totem into his Birth
Mum was Happy; What else could be better
For such Achievement as well as your Worth
So what if you Ascend?! Can you improvise
Those Loyal Customers who bought your Face?
Good Lord! Just on the lower-arm-set's Tripe,
Crypted to prevent another Disgrace
Envy? Me? Please! Not on my Word's Best Site
Will I even Dare to take such Sour Note
As I once reminded myself in-spite
For every Storm there is a Shred of Hope.
Three Figures picturesqued on certain Price
That Midnomer then showed his Biggest Size.

Strength, oft forsook this Un-Scrupulous Tongue
A Tape-Measure's past of Time's Friend prevent
I tweeted my News. When his Will was rung
To accept this Swallowed Gift I present
I never expected such Addled Theme
Where the Culprit layed his Murderous Mourn
With White Intent, a Blonde's Purpose took scene
Then scorched my Patience of trying to learn
Because of this all Tee's Hells grew devout
And cashed my Young Ally to cost-betray
Since for my Horn I expected your Bout
But strung to your Brother's Reflex that day.
Twelve-by-Six Dues. That is what I should owe
A Knot by nature. In Mind's Eye I know.

Was that the Cream which you used to Enjoy
Of Four Sticks seasoned to your Destiny?
How Thoughtful be this State of your Deploy
For Good Arm's Purpose reach your Harmony
And once the Friend - though un-known Titles be
Play this growing Suffrage on your Best Mind
For your Honour's Prevail; Which we can see
Why Un-Holy Mouths must be copped behind
Dive, Honour, Dive! That be Support un-furled
As Stock-Toned Pillars coat this selfless Plead
To misunderstand Sane Meanings up-turned
Else sate our Puddings with Un-Salted Mead.
And the Youth, inspired, still makes Amends
Such would be you which Guilded Growth depends.

This Saint whose Letters bear Prime in Youth
Like that such my Verses appreciate
And Hand by Clock's Divination sprays Truth
Prevent my own Good Deeds depreciate
How Frequent be your Sprinkles for Good Praise
Which by Volumes soon Tampered for Debate
Yet as Pure Models breed Tolerance raise
Urge me in Trust extend your Honour's sate
Father from the Miles; By then your Heart plombs
What other Morsels must my Bowl offer?
Stoppered at that - Tongues inflamed by their Combs
Still Burst your Berries by Love, dear Elder.
It seems by now that First Names make Sense
Though Birth-Year's Stamp your Longevity hence.

‬

Un-Thrifting Essence, what of Loneliness
Allows the Hill across to bend and weep?
Who is to blame? Are you the Sorceress
Drawn to cast an Un-Witting Spell so deep?
These are all but Questions; If I may add
Failed on Writ, yet convenient to Subject
Here is the Adjective I thought I had
But the Spell did lie thus made to reject
My Immortal Covenant: To Keep you,
Dearest Talent; A Servant's Dud I make
Within a shadow shines a Brighter Hue,
A Promise I no longer will Forsake:
Though in Essence always revealed un-been
I am that Shadow never revealed un-seen.

At last these Plums took the Daughter in Kind
From Lord Raffles' Paradise she adored
A Marriage of Saints she thought to remind
Though behind her Door was Melancholy.
But who a Pony-Child in Fashion's New
Could taste the Recipe she may not like?
Clotted Cream? Or Fish in the River-View
Tore through the Muddy Dress to greet her Delight
This is not the Age, Tories of the West
To switch on Lights dimmed for your Books to read
She is a Sweet-Tooth; Or Filmer at best
Just give her a Spoon; She makes one Great Mead.
She is my Friend. And the Plum's Diver Son
Rewarded a Follow never un-done.

You play the Cool Piper every Concert Noon
Change your Clothes; And the Tempo changes you
Why couldn't have I heard you Guys that soon
So I could strangle the Technocrat blue?
HA! I jest. Rarely do Gum-Humours speak
But when they do they leave a Mark aside
I guess this is no time to act so meek
When Spain's Wild Brother calls us for a Ride
And what a Ride! Many Blokes hitch a tug
Collecting Hot Dames they only knew for yonks
It's a Crazy Menu; But quite a hug
Some choose a Bellow; Others a *****-Tonk.
Long Sonnet Short, your Music is the Boom
Clean your Pipe well and hope to see you soon.

Sirrah, so told the Two Modern Bards knew
Jack's Union does Proud for people relate
I thought I dressed a-tunney; For in Review
This Show of Efforts which make your Art Great
They are called SONGS: Honours to their Gospel
With some Promotion they must get to Ascend
The Theme was Clear; And for Manager's Hassle
Defers deaf Youth to listen and Conscend
Grateful for the Samples. Such were eaten
By my Pod's silent but crow-cockneyed Mouth
They left me at Home; Much was Forgiven
To have me Dance quite rarely in the South.
Fie, this Average Feedback does Persist
Nothing else can Repel what I Insist.

Plush and Prim is your White, Feathery Plume
Soft the Inertia of your Thighs update
I pray this time, your Victory resume,
Revive your Year's Fortress not far too late
In your eyes you reject the Gambler's View
For no such Attitude ever won Hearts
The Paddles you took - timed and faster blue
Were enough for us to make Key Remarks
This Beauty, defined as Hair-Painted Wind,
Tad effort needed to brush your Canvas red
Pour out! Pour out! Pour, Passion's Purest Sprint
And let your Spirit drape these Words instead:
I'll just be right here, cheering for your Cause
Whether win or lose my Soul will not pause.

The Will-of-Strength, firm and subtle at Peak
Sought to follow his Elder and charge his Day
With Weight-Lifts and Fork-Bells conquer Relief
Took a Sling from his Semi; Shot the Green Elf
Who flew around the House and tampered his Rage
To learn such Programmes like Responses and Growth
But Confident as he was to draft his Age
Shot the Green Elf again; His Candles grew Old
The Candles! Left there on a Muddy-Cream-Cake
Waiting to be puffed by a Cold, Moral Bite
Till the Drogbas arrived and brought their own Bake
Then the Party resumed; Screams sparked in Delight.
And the Green Elf, sleeping, spoke in the End:
"Manhood be your Goal; First make me your Friend."

Never have I seen such an Avid Score
Then draw your Players back to your Credit
Once Clocks have wrung your Springs tight before
Now ring Best Conclusions to your Debit
So your Tendons ripe and joined Model Bro
Each with Burned Spectacles for Thigh's attract
And he taught you well; A Flame burning so
**** Timbers do kiss your Tongue's Good Act
The Green Elf was right. If you could agree
That Advanced Levels only stunt your Mane
But just Read the Play; And Scripts follow free
Your Lion-Born Instinct is one and the same.
Chelsea has Won. And wore Arsenal's Shirt
The Meaning of which, Tie's Variance still hurts.

And you finally Knew what must be Done
This Copper Sword above the Iron Sun
Threw your Light-Spears to Rio's Promise become
Then Crown this Gold to your Heart's felt as One
As such our Prayers plead to Bless your Name
That once and every Year own your Craft unique
Let your Knights kneel; And Wisdom carry the Frame
To see how Raised Jamaica's Son succeed
For in that Pride - by Health must your Charms flow
Then read those Lessons Bruised yet Shining Bright
Frowned Eyes will Falter; Then see your Strength a-glow
As your Love's Soothing Arms enhance you on Sight.
Now your Oblation - greet that Morning be
Steam, Sir Legend! A Legend you will be.

But life is just a fancy phase
A seed that's from the start is sown.
A life that every one can own
A part that every one must face.

Its' ups and downs is but a way,
Of telling you what world you make
If it was true or was it fake,
It makes your destiny that you sway.

For life is but an irony
It teaches you what's in your past.
For you can learn or you can just
Ignore it from all your memory.

Yet life is just a passing dream,
But somehow it will end and soon
Its' end could always be a boon
Or it could only be a scheme.

And yet as death do so enfold
Relief does come as it occurs.
For in the end it just incurs
To be of fame or just untold.

Yet death is just a simple thief
That lurks behind in every life,
And strikes unknowest in its strife
No matter what was your belief.

So now I wish this life to mend
Thus I could rest and be so blessed.
To stop a life I have possessed
And so at last this life would end.

It's here! It's here! One of the Best
And Brightest Days
Now's the Time to rev-up our Ways.


That Glazing Star, which spits the
Rays
Shone brightly through Helios, the
Highest Display.


Beaches un-roll their sleek-forming sands
As Pools de-frost their blue-tanned waves.
Swimmers do dive, and enjoy the Save
In Iberia's Coast rescue in Grand.


There are many Events in
This Hot-Baste Holiday
Worry not; For it will slowly
Pass Away
About a month-two - quill, quite awhilst
Just enough for me to produce
More Words in-rhyme.


Writing on Holidays must always be fun
For Experiences like these, pressed
Under the Sun
Tram-Tracked Thoughts, which does
Hurt to remember
Will be preserved - thanks to November.


Family, Friends, Extensions and Strangers
There the Bunch starts to get all blokey
Boring Concepts, birth these Megaphone Chaps
You world prefer to dance on their laps.


Maybe what I said meant something else
Those Words of mine touched Heart and felt
Such gradual boredom - in time I agree
For tunnelling Facts, with Evidence plead.


Nevertheless, let the Holidays sing
And let our Lives live that Full Extract.
Be Happy, Gay and Humble in Kind
For once the Headmaster whistles, you'll
Have a Sortie ahead.

In my Thirty-Fifth Year I juiced this Remark
The Crisque-Plaque Hotel named after a Tree
Sturdy, of Signage enhance the Grade's Bark
Wishing all else their Best Service was Free
If not the Years to Good Degree advance:
Fruits, Pasta, Meat, Veggies and Japanese
Mix the fricasee to match that of France
And serve it on a Platter, if you please
Only if the Staff were shy; But informed
How noted the needs of their Clients were
One Gesture made, took the Meaning lost cause
Pour some polished Suggestions done on here.
Thirty-Five Candles blown, all without Flame
It was still my Best Day; All just the same.

This is an Instrument a Verser must have
Without it, we cannot Write with Love.


This Tool, yet so small
Does so many for All.


Ink-Filled Skinney,
With a ball-soaked head.
Passing-out stains of Blue Blood
And creating Words which Read.


People throughout Literacy
Seek for this Sword.
To furnish their own Feelings
And Bsuiness in the Ring.


It all started,
With a large, downey feather
From the Swan's sacrifice,
Dipping the tip with sticky paint,
And scribbling onto leather.


Paper, in progression, was its Factor
Then came the Fountain - Civil Man's writing major.


This Pen does well
And so does much.
Ink goes up,
Goes down,
Though still plans to Blot.


However it may be,
How the Ball-Point was born.
"This is way Better!" People would say
And now - the New Century - is still
Used today.


And because of it,
Production was born
In Business, Literary and most
Of all - Journalism
Was so Progressive.


And so this ends,
This Tale of the Happy Ballpen.
Of Friend's in-take,
Which is needed much in the Open.

So here I am,
Sitting on a Everhard Rock
Minding my own Personal Business
Riveting my Eyes to the vast, distant Grassland
And withered Trees shaking for liveliness.

The Wind, flowing free and gay
Rustling Leaves in every same way
Tornadoes of small sizes spin them round-and-round
Till every last Sheet of them is never found.

As my Sight continues to scan every Natural Being
The Sunlight's spectrum heats my forehead's gleaming.

Summer if you may say,
But I do not:
Breezy Atmospheres, Falling Leaves
Make it all Impossible
And Animals in terms of Dying Grounds
Begin to rot.

In all Sudden Time
I felt quite bored
Maybe if I raised my God-Given Hands
I could sing to your Praise, O Lord.

Then I stood,
Breathing in that precious Air
Filling my tender Lungs with Fresh Feelings
And my Brain with Shattered Flares.

Trot, walk, trot, walk,
There was a Time that I didn't stalk
My Progressive Mind began to accumulate Stoney Thoughts
Something...That involves my Nature
Without getting caught.

WHOOSH!
My Back felt that forceful Breeze
Thinking of me as one oppressed Stone
And pushed me towards the Lowlands
With its Frosty Whirls that made me freeze.

Herds of Cows mooing
And Cockrels ****
A Menagerie of Sounds
That I never tried to mock.

For in those Sounds
Symbolise Nature's way to auduce
Those Tenacious Vibes wiggle my Eardrums
Making my Restless Heart feel Joy.

My Humiliated Uncle
Always seeks Help
A Thank You is what I get
Whenst helping a Whelp.

Father, my Noble Roots
Dig-up for Space
For our Everyday Food
As we carry them as Loot.

Mother, my Beloved
Cooks for our Family's Meal
And calls us Everyday in Time
Reminding us that Supper...Is perfect Mead.

Cousins, Brothers, Sisters and Babes
Become my Best Companions
Never leave me alone in Misty Loneliness
So they asked me to Play; so I joined
And accept their Loving Tenderness.

These are all my Boons
Of the Mother's Greatest Gift;
Nature: For she is a Mother too
And Family - thank God - do I have one
Which I promised to bond with them like Flexi-Glue.

In this Still Day my Heart sings
The Beauties of our Lord's Greatest Creation
Including Me
In One, Holy Ring.

This Supple Mystery
I haven't known
Since the Final Preface of It
Hasn't shown.

Nevertheless,
I am content with what God has given Me
In all His Merciful, Holy Time
He made me what I am to be.

I Myself, in very frank Thoughts
I realised are Part to what God has given me
The Difference from Others is that I'm Immortal
Which makes me rich in Everlastiness.

Spitefully speaking
All Things, in Everyone's name must die
There is a Great Beginning and a Despairful End
One which a Soul cannot escape and lie.

We People, even I
Cannot be delivered from Death.
Our Bodies will soon find itself in Decaying Matter,
Leaving our Precocious, Material Wealth.

But Hope,
Will always last long.
Bodies may die in vain,
But our Souls will always be FREE.
Sadness may exist in Triumph
But Joy will still come in Glee.

Nature too, can be called to the Reaper's Scythe
Grass proudly swivering in the Wind cut-down,
Heaven and Earth can be called to Time
But God's loving Hope and Peace can never be called to Death.

T'was the Time when Light hasn't come
Thus filled the Air with Old-Smelling Rhum
Or Gas-Lamps, or Candles of Wax
Do make this Darkened City a mass.

The Source of Great Power has fell
This Time unknown which we cannot tell
The Heat as the Night, how Great it was
When Cooling Converters has made its loss.

People complain, here and there
For Power to return, unable to Dare
At this rate in which they have had Enough
It's now their Turn to be so Rough.

Banners flow in tiles across
The Head of whom around is Boss
Saying, "Power come! Power come!
Hear me now, don't be Dumb!"

As the Night comes with Loser Heat
The Rebellious Mass was still hard to beat
Sources say to drive them out
Not by Force, but by Pout.

"We've had Enough!" the People said
Thus they storm to the Company's Head
Defense Forces pull them back
But the People threw them in the Stacks.

Just then, in Time's time an Electrician
Came through. Stating:
"All is well's tripe! I've cleared the Electric Hue!"

The People heard, but didn't say a Word
To realise: "We have dumped ourselves like birds."

Forgiveness, they spoke. And Cooler Thoughts
Do process
Clearing-up the Debris; And brooming-out the Mess.

Lights have returned; The Power recharged
Peace has settled once again; With the Culprit
At-large.

Land,
The Mystery
A Nature to One's Mind
A Sand which Flows,
And Glows
And sparkles Success
To One.

Before Men,
Before Cities borne out of
Civilisation's Womb
There was,
And was known to many
That it was Land,
The Enigma,
The Unknown to One.

Who lives in the Deep,
The Paradise Underworld
Of Many,
Of Millions,
Of a Thousand Beings in Atlantis.

The Impossible
Is Done
And should be Done
By One.

The Brave,
The Humble,
The Curious Juniour
One Foot,
That touches the Sand
One Breath,
Of Boreas' Air
One look,
Of Demeter's Feet
One Meet,
At Thriver's Friendly.

And Wisdom,
Has been Known,
And Shown,
The Impossible
Has been Done.

It is One's Dream,
The Goal,
The Conquest,
For the Future of Existence.

The Happiness,
To many of One Nation's Grand
Of Praise and Possibilities.

What is a Father?
Is he a Person?
A Thing?
Or a Feather?
What is his Life?
Is it Carefree and Spontaneous
Or Tormenting and Strife?

Who is he in which a Person could know?
What are his Abilities which only he could show?
Does he Work, for the sake of a Family?
Or sleeps and pigs around, being a Menace and Lazy?

Who could this man be, to the Eyes of Children,
A Hard Rock or a Soft Leaven?

Does he Pile over Everyone
And takes Control?

Is he the Eagle, the Head of the Nest,
Playing a very important Role?

Does he impersonate Father Christmas
With all his Treats and Gifts?

Is he a Lover, with a Strong Heart for *******
Hugging greatly and giving Love-Lifts?

Does he Pray,
Or Face-Religious?

Or a Braver,
Or Spontaneous?

Is he a Disciplinarian
Wherewithin all Members under him
Are tuned to his Command?

Or a Freester,
Who gives his Kids their darling Freedom
Without any Demand?

Does he care,
For the People and Loved Ones around him?

Is he Provocative,
Uncaring for Anyone behind his Dim?

Mostly, he is the Grass,
Herding the Future for his Offspring?

Or the Lamb,
Stubborn and very Unwilling?

And so, whatever he is,
Or does,
A Father is a Father,
Anonymous or Specific
I wouldn't mind.

Just as long as he has
HEART, STRENGTH, FREEDOM and PROSPERITY,
KINDNESS, BRAVE, PROTECTIVE
And RELIABILITY.

I'll be Glad and Content. As any Son should be.

The Greatest Gift of All
Comes from our Helper,
Our Heavenly Father.


Who, with Great Mercy
Bore His Only Son, the Divine Fruit
To redeem us from the Fires of Sin
And the Smoke of Anarchy.


Shining from the Son,
There are other Great Gifts given
On-the-Run
And each of them Play a certain Role in Life
While others could reimburse their fife.


Love,
The most Important
Which always keeps Constant
To the Heart.
Taping two People; Then stapling the Many
To God's Unbiased Paper.
A Work of Art.

Come in and enjoy the Night-Light Hotel
Where Pillows and Perfumes meet and relax
And Therapy takes either Bond or Belle
And Goldfish blow this Friday's Bubbly Sax
Here upon registry your Token awaits
The Flannel up-hook which you strip and wear
Then wait for your turn as your Number rebates
A little whilst knowing your Musk reeks there
I for one made this Malicious Decide
And tempt my ****** to swallow this Treat:
Upper-Lower Left; Upper-Lower Right
Then descend into Base - Heh! Heh! Heh! Heh!
Stud or Salome, let Conscience give choose
But trust me to say I am a Man too.

Life and Love.
Defense and Attack.
Boys wear Pants whilst Girls wear Slacks.
Students study, as they do, so they say
By the their own Proud Youth - yet reek with Respect
And Worthiness to other People and the Like.


These are the Roles - Tasks and Obligations
Which every Individual does in order to strike
The Goal intented.


As the World rivets by,
And Beggars moan for Alms,
Every person has some Role day-by-day;
Singing Psalms,
Thanking God for the Gifts gratefully given.


But as I say, as we are aware
That each of us has Roles different from
The others.
Specific, as what we call them makes
Us Special in some way.


We gain Originality - Uniqueness - the Factor
Of one Good Kindness
But is not the Perfect Role - no more, no less.


And so we Search, by-and-by
Even with the Onions we consume which
Makes us Cry.
Soon, we began to love Victory and notice
A certain Title which makes a Sick Story:
"THE PEOPLE THEMSELVES; BEST BY WAY."
And began to scan the Multitude,
Wondering what they could mean.


The People, everywhere floating around us like
Fish,
Being noticed that Something in themselves
Create a Tinge of Belief.
BELIEF! That's it! Belief in one's self -
The most Perfect Role of all!


With it, we Feed our World with such Classical Rhythms
That sheds a little Light for this World of ours
To be kept and treasured forevermore.


If everyone has Originality, they are more
Respected, when it comes to a Serious Society.
Furthermore, one makes use of his Gifts
Given by the Lord. And it is our Duty to Follow it.


And we will - for we Believe that to follow the Perfect Role
Leads to a Perfect Life.


At least, such is what I Think.
Of course, I could be Wrong.

I saw an Ulila
Whilst riding a Jeepney
Half-Shoed,
Half-Footed,
Saying, "BAYAD!"
An Endearment for Pay
Yet my Eyes affixed
On his One-Footed Shoe
But due to the Wear
Of a Day's Sweaty Trod
Begging for his Family Dinner
Hoping he could have a Full Meal
And Smiles
For him and his family
And still waiting
For his Final Stop
And still scraping
His Hard-Worn Scar
Thus the Ulila
Handsome to Beg
Despite his Birth-Marked Nose
Which was actually blood
From a flavourful fist-fight
And Soil,
Paints his Tender Body.

Thus the Ulila,
Swollen in his Eyes,
Suddenly remembered
He had nothing to Beg
For since his Time,
Was centred on Smiles
Greeting people,
Wishing them the
Best of Cheers and Holidays
And his Reward,
Sheltered and Soft,
Reaching the end of his Bay,
Cried, "PARA!"
An Endearment for Stop
And disembarked
Full of Flavours and Joy,
Wondering,
If he could Share such with his Family.

Then the Ulila,
Felt a Weight,
And Jingles in his Body.
Thinking of his Thursday's Stones,
He took some out
And all he found,
Were just some Worthless Pesos,
Given secretly,
By the Passengers he Entertained
In the busy Jeepney.

Thus Smiled the Ulila - The Selfless Urchin-Boy.

When you think that you have remained at Peace,
Here comes the War Cause.
Due to his Impedious Actions and Words
Has caused an Impenetrable Rising -
An ******* unworthy to be erected,
Which ought to be torn apart piece-by-piece.


It is the TINGE - that Nerve which makes
You do just that.
It is he, that made you Scream like a Cat -
Angered by the Mouse
To which transfers the same Range at his
Own Spouse.
It is he, that makes Hypocrisy victorious
And free.
It is he, that projects Visions and Sights
You could hardly see.


Because you could not see it all
For it still rests within your Heart.
No-one loves the Heat of Hatred
Or the Sourey Taste of Anger.
Worse, his or her Voice
Expressing uncontrollable Temper.
(Or Things either with big or little Difference.)


Yet still, it is the Reason. And that Tinge
Proves it so.
And as a Result the Latter begins to Dream.....
Deteriorate and worst let you feel low;
Deeper than Beelzebub's main Majestic;
Deeper than the Marianas itself.


The Tinge of Heart - so Strong to Hinder
And so Weak to be Awared.
Responses, Sympathy are the only Cures
Of these Tinges. And now its Reputation
Has been Saved from the Infamous Hinges.


Now that Tinges can have a Good Side -
Does Temper have.....?

To Sing a Song
Of Love, full of Life
Consumes your Inner Carefree
And Compassion.

A Distinct Act of Tones
Bond into One
Notes which blend those Tunes
And squeezes Music-Juice.

A Happy Sound for All
To which when Played,
And Played,
And Played again
It is Finished. But not all.

It stands Forever; Lurking always
In your Memory
A Dainty Feeling to One's Heart
From the very Start
Till the End of your Time.

A Magical Compensation
To Children, Men
Or even to Animals
And Plants who could Hear,
And Feel,
The Warmth of a Song.

The Feelings it Brings,
Is Now and Forever,
Joy and Happiness to All
To Summer, to Fall,
To Winter, to Spring,
And to Everyone's Ears can hear,
And wear,
Like a Ring.

A Gem from your Mouth,
Eaten in Past Times
As One Grows and Improves
The Stamina
It becomes a Jewel
Which can sparkle when opens,
And closes,
And opens again.

It's Fun to know
Why many People would Show,
And Portray,

A Song,
A Grace,
A Feeling,
A Wonder,
A Mystery,
A Medicine for Sadness to All.

Ubod ng Langit ang aking Kasiyahan
Sa Puso't Diwa haplos ng Dalampasigan
Maayo man sa Bulaklak; Mula sa Himpapawid
Ang aking dulo't ng Isang Kaibigan
At hindi ako po'y nagbabalat-kayo
Sa Tunay ng aking Pagkakatao
Sana'y Nawa, Hiyas at Bendisyo ang inyong Loob
Nakikipaglabi sa aking Dangal
Papuri sa inyo! Alagad ng Maykapal. =)

Translation:

More than the Heavens is my Happiness
In Heart and Soul which takes to the Sky
More Scented than these Flowers; From Above
Blessed me with a Friend
And I for One am not a Hypocrite
For that has never been my Personality
All I ask - Blessings and Fortune be upon You
Offering these Sole Prayers of mine
Praise be to you! Servant of the Lord. =)

When you thought that the Wrap
Has already woven around
You - grasping so tightly that you can no longer
Break Free.


So it is. Your Mind has made use
Of its own Wrap.


You Wonder - then tremble of how and when
The Tomorrows of Anxiety would be:
Fate? Desire? Luck?
It's a Query too young for a Response, I say.


Thus one must wait and be Aware.
Pray that such Outcomes will Turn on your end
And spray Parfum on your Lair.


To Worry is easy; But to be Aware takes skill.
The rotting smell of Fish would be likely to spot
But to realise that as the Tastes are not
To be eaten is an Uncertain Rule for us, Deaf-Dumbers
Or maybe those who don't know at all.


Every Problem has a Solution
Despite how such Solutions are Encrypted.
But to Worry - Does it have
Something? Or none?


What about God? Isn't He the Perfect Being
For all your Worries? Would not a little Murmur
To His Name
Revive you once more?


It's then for you how to deal with these Worries.
To Worry: A Title so harmoniously fed
To the Traitors.
So the Question remains: Why Worry on so many Things?

God is with us - WHY.....?

Who can guess the Masquerade of this Time
Such Event is a Turtle; Withdrawn to a Box
None is ever wasted; None is left behind
None is allowed to lick and tether a Fox
It is the Creature; Banned for a Reason
The Furry Red was no benefit to avail
You cannot bargain; Not even for a Season
Better if the Document is stamped by a Snail
At least it was Honest; And hardly Fraud
Shall my Letter then be sent with such Mail
Else cheat your Lover whilst he is Abroad?
Or perhaps better resolve this Bitter Alimony.
Neither you or I in this Picnic we enjoy
The Duckling Issue whose Exit we deploy.

If the Reddened Mum would seek to Forgive
My Lone and Whale-Levelled Voice
Perhaps the Healing Tome would allow me to Live
And make Good Aspect on my own Choice. =))