Tacit Agreements

Natural Commerce

To the needs of the present my focus is drawn.
As I pay close attention to natural ties
To the infinite cosmos, relationships are
Blessed with true understanding. It cannot stray far
From the contracts apparent that no soul denies
Due to interdependence which life relies on.

Motivated by teamwork, to thrive is the goal.
Individual energy shares in exchange
For continual sharing in provident grace.
Connection with all parts each unit must embrace.
What cannot be of value one can’t prearrange
Nor can that which is unworthy blend with the whole.

Tacit are the agreements among everyone.
We refer to the golden rule if there’s a need
For the reiteration of what sets us free
To support one another most wholeheartedly.
Pleasure, when found in structure, can help all succeed
On the path toward fulfillment with ill will toward none.

Emotional Consequences

Uncertainty In Turst

With a sense of detachment, the rational mind,
Less affected by tension, must take ample care
Not to seem not compassionate. That’s hard to do
When the person you’re helping appears just as you.
Empathy and a willingness to come aware
Of another’s predicament is only kind.

Logic has consequences. The cost may be high
As the hot air of intellect. Feelings remain
In a well-controlled corner most safe and secure
From awkward situations that make one unsure.
There’s enough interaction to service each brain.
Mutual is the blessing exchanged eye to eye.

I can learn and appreciate beauty and joy
As it stands right before me in pure clarity.
Every inner and outer child knows about play.
We all excel at fun in a natural way
That gets thwarted when dealing with reality.
Both the mind and emotions we all can employ.

False Optimism

The Devil Beware

This is not quite the best time to quit my day job.
I could learn a few lessons as time is my friend.
Must I learn how to tune life if I want to play
With all fresh water fishermen? What a fine day
To make hay of confusion! I need not depend
On a firm grip on anything but a doorknob.

I don’t seem to be practical, but that’s ok.
Luck I keep in spare pockets for times such as these.
Quantum physics explains things pure logic cannot
And provides good excuses for times that are fraught
With an intrinsic weirdness that weakens the knees.
Though my hope is unfounded, I’ll have it my way.

Not a soul needs to worry. I think I’ll do fine.
The outlook is outstanding. My freak is full on.
The whole gig is nocturnal – from dusk unto dusk.
If I seem inefficient and all the while brusk
It’s because of the real threat of impending dawn.
I work best in the dark where my talent can shine.

Making Yourself Clear

Burn Through To Clarity

Optimistic oration performed ear to ear
Generates burn through pieces. Revealing what’s true
Is the purpose of speaking what’s on the clear mind.
When the pieces fit well we can see what’s behind
Any obstructive surface to give us a view
Of the brightness abundant that all hearts hold dear.

To translate air apparent to simple green earth
Is to enlarge and focus. Each function is done
In magnificent mindfulness of better sight
That the vision of clarity will make aright
My intention to speak in a way everyone
Can engage with the puzzle and give it some worth.

I do not choose my words well. Rather, they choose me.
Having been here before I am, I am at ease
In accepting their governance. I become wise
As to how verbal structures can surprise the eyes.
May this work be a blessing to those who would seize
Alternate understanding and new ways to see.

Banana Republican

Nationalized Corruption

White man want a banana? Just follow the lead
On the path through entitlement to the big top.
Everyone loves a circus. To watch knuckles drag
Makes for prime entertainment. The wealthy may brag
Of an elite republic against the backdrop
Of its qualified citizens who can’t succeed.

That the course that we’re taking resembles that of
Other nations corrupted by way of our greed
Is the hugest of ironies. But that’s the way
The republican party must dish out dismay.
The essential banana becomes monkey feed.
They’ve the right and the willingness to push and shove.

Bananas, as they perish, are home to fruit flies
Who suck up the last sweetness before the decay
While the skin remains virgin except for the change
In the texture and color. This circus is strange
As it once was a party that had its own say
But is now one that real folk are well to despise.

Intense Encounters

Anger of the Sky

Willingness to engage with the forces that be
When one has not the weaponry would be insane.
Why then do people do that? Indeed, why am I
Often times throughout life not willing to comply
With the will of establishment? There’s naught to gain
Even if the mad battle is won easily.

People act like machinery that just won’t work
The way I think they should. They’re a pain in the ass.
I’ll do best to avoid folks while I’m in this state
Lest I break out the monkey wrench and channel hate.
Machines too oft’ malfunction, but this too shall pass
Like foul gas from the orifice that wears a smirk.

The place under one’s skin can be put up for rent
By the landowner only. None else are involved
In my own misperceptions and ways that I feel.
In the blind heat of passion I can’t see what’s real.
Difficult situations are hardly resolved
In an air of contempt and with hostile intent.

Be Kind To The Toilet

Toilet Temperament

Do be kind to your toilet. It takes tons of crap.
Though that’s what it was made for, it wants for a break
From the forceful expulsion of vile human waste
From a family of asses whose bowels are fast paced.
It performs well its duty, but make no mistake
What it has to put up with feels much like a trap.

Connected to the sewer or some funky place,
What is gulped down is passed with each masterful flush.
Never mind where that stuff goes. It’s clear out of sight.
Vanishing if by magic, it only seems right.
Whether solid and serpentine or just a mush
It will make it go bye bye. What provident grace!

That old bowl needs a cleaning once every short while.
It informs you of that in its own special ways.
But it needs more attention. It likes to stay clean.
It wants someone to talk to. On whom can it lean?
So, converse with your toilet and give it due praise.
It will bless you profusely and keep a big smile.

At Ease With A Simple Self

Lucid Youth

Selves are vastly complex things designed to behave
With the freedom of spirit to know their desire
On an intimate level. Sometimes they get lost
In expressive minutia for fame at great cost
To the self’s sense of purpose. The spirit on fire
For the height that ignites it is what all selves crave.

Should I go for the gusto of leaping my way
Through the clouds of my consciousness without a care
For affairs of the real world for just a short while?
What’s become reminiscent of some ancient smile
Can be changed in an instant with one simple prayer
For some ease in existing to accent each day.

What supports what is simple is elegant ease
In between mundane moments when time can stand still.
As I age I become more childlike in my ways
Complete with temper tantrums that no self can praise.
If I’m due for a time out, that would be a thrill.
There’s no mental authority I need to please.

Integral Support

Earthly Providence

When I’m feeling upbeat I know I have support
From a world made prepared for my every ascent.
Expanding my horizons, opportunities
To climb higher, I manifest with greater ease.
Social recognition may highlight each event
But I’ll not be entrapped by motives of that sort.

I feel much optimism. This time is sublime.
My domestic and daily routines run smoothly.
I’m in touch with the feminine from a male space.
What could be more enthralling! The scent of pure grace
Is the essence of living, as far as I see.
Integral in its manner, life sanctifies time.

Life is not always lofty. The times may be hard
As they punctuate sequence and give it contrast.
So, this time I will cherish and log it here well
Where the imperfect memory cannot dispel
Having felt such support. And I know it won’t last.
When the message is taken, there’s no disregard.

An Inward Glimpse

When I take a glimpse inward what there do I find?
This old self is an eyesore, I humbly confess.
I appear to most others as one would expect
But to me I’m perfection become incorrect
In my firmest behaviors. My life seems a mess.
Facing such a bleak sight one might wish I were blind.

While not seeing while living, one banks on the hope
That the mask of illusion that culture provides
Will maintain inner blindness as something benign.
Accepting my reality, I must align
With the truth that will free me. The spirit abides
In the clearness of vision wherein I can cope.

Looking inward is healthy. Some part of a while
On a regular basis I must look within.
Episodes of entanglements highlight my past.
What I may do tomorrow is just a forecast.
What occurs in the present is where to begin
A new lease upon living without the denial.

Irritability

Sensitive to the Touch

Taking things much too personally is a trap.
Undue stress and exhaustion can’t keep the mind clear.
I am bandaged impatience and impulsiveness.
People get on my damned nerves. I need not digress
Into flowered assessment. Why should I appear
As a joyful team player? Enough of that crap!

There’s enhanced mitigation in getting it out
So the ill, conscious self may behold the raw truth
Written down in plain English. Is this sick one me?
Could I be more objective and just let life be?
These rhetorical questions recover my youth
As they’re answered subjectively absent of doubt.

There’s an end to frustration. The buildup is strong.
Discontented small energies gather in force.
I can be argumentative and downright rude
If I feel that I’m not as respectfully viewed
As all others. There’s something amiss here, of course.
Simple logic dictates that I’m where I belong.

Mutual Reinforcement

Strength in the Common Goal

Art and technology work together to make
Sturdy structures of beauty. This building I wear
Is constructed of feeling and rational thought.
Does one precede the other, or are they both caught
Quantum struck into nowness where time is a tear
In the fabric of consciousness while wide awake?

There can be much relief in the planning of things
Far enough in advance and with ample detail
Of the project’s beginning to guarantee you’ll
Not appear as a bumbling incompetent fool.
If I’m built well, I’ll be much less likely to fail.
As the parts work together, contentment it brings.

The building is completed a little each day.
Reinforcing the dwelling to make it secure,
The convergence of talent for ample support
Redefines my aesthetics. And should I fall short
While engaging the process, still I can be sure
That the forces of nature won’t blow me away.

Take A Break

Self-Maintenance

Take full comfort in knowing your place on the earth
Is prepared in advance of your humble debut.
Barrow time is expressive. Creation is fun.
Making time to relax cannot be overdone.
Take a well-deserved break from the work that you do.
It is up to you only to value your worth.

Be romantic and playful with your given time.
By directing the drama you set yourself free
From the things that cause stress and do harm to the health.
Taking care of oneself is the key to true wealth.
What could be more important to you than to be
In a state of contentment? It’s truly sublime.

You work hard at your living and making ends meet.
To maintain your alignment with all that you are
Is of ultimate value in playing your part
In the world’s evolution. The beat of your heart
Satisfies as the timepiece efficient by far
To the humdrum machine of the cherished elite.

The Charmer

Graceful Command And Control

Pre-perceiving her nature, the beast, made aware
Of a comforting spirit, will flow to her lead.
For within the reflection two souls intertwine.
Consciousness is of caring wherein love will shine.
In the heat of compassion both spirits are freed
From the will to be separate and not a pair.

Gracefulness is The Charmer. Her delicate touch
Is the essence of masterful feminine reign.
Mighty forces are tamed not by brutal control
But by interconnection achieved through each soul.
What it takes is a Charmer to win a campaign
Not a white male Russianlican. We’ve had too much!

Can we stand resolution of our lethal flaws?
That will take much evolving. Perhaps centuries
Will have passed before humans have learned how to love
On a wide enough scale that no one is above
Any other. Until such time, honor’s trustees,
In the form of fine women, shall tame that which was.

An Infectious Good Mood

Enticement To Joy

Being friendly feels good! Who would argue with that?
With a provident outlook life is a surprise
Like an unopened gift from benevolent Source
Blessing each newborn moment with brilliant life force.
As the light of my soul radiates through my eyes
There is seldom an issue I need to combat.

Naturally I’m outgoing. That I effervesce
At an infinite frequency makes every day
An exciting adventure. To share my good will
Is the only goal in this life I need fulfill.
With my smile I offer to the world my bouquet.
I have nothing but love in my heart to express.

My desires become magical as they come true
In my blissful observance of all that takes place
In the life I’ve created. The joy that I know
Is more than enough to make my heart overflow.
My will is to infect all with positive grace.
May the ease be a widespread and refreshing flu.

Scattered Mind

Spatial Consciousness

Reaching far beyond limits imposed by space/time,
Scattered parts of the mind that I thought were my own
All belong to the cosmos. They’re mine to behold,
But a few at a time only. And, as I’m told,
No mind can outdo nature… at least not alone
While entrapped in an other than sound paradigm.

Speed control done remotely by sentient life force
That exists of no substance but with firm intent
Has by now animated me to frequencies
High enough that my problems are solved with more ease.
If I could just remain here adrift in content
For the rest of my living, that I would endorse.

Restlessness in my clutter knows static release
Through the interconnections unconsciously made
In a mood of acceptance of things as they are.
Anywhere in the universe can’t be too far
From the place where I feel that my thoughts are betrayed
By a sense of untidiness. Therein lies peace.

High In My Balloon

Colorful Sky

The subconscious, when active, is filled with hot air
That expands the container and offers a lift
To the heart become heavy and laden with lack.
Feeling oddly, emotions cannot hold me back
From attainment of height. This strange mood is a gift
Of ethereal substance far beyond compare.

There’s potential for danger. I’m more open to
Outside energies and influences quite strong
Moving me to wherever. The air has its way.
While adrift, I’ll maneuver as if hard at play.
There may be some deception. The ride could go wrong
But it’s part of a process that I must go through.

Fantasies are fulfilling while playing their role.
They enforce demarcation between altitudes
That are higher and lower. Supporting the need
For the kind of upliftment where spirit is freed,
Lofty dreams are the essence of brief interludes
With the heart of eternity’s infinite soul.

How The Matter Is Treated

The Matter of Mind

One whole mind over matter divided by heart
Equals clarity, peace and a spirit of love.
Infinite are the pieces that I try to fit
Into that which is not a container. Though it
Is confined to the finite and limits thereof,
I can give up the struggle and see a new start.

For a bit of an instant this flesh form I take.
I become the reflection of all that I see.
A big screen is before me. Upon it appears
Massive configurations of hopes, dreams and fears.
This unprovable vision is reality
For all intents and purposes and goodness sake.

How The Matter Is Treated is all up to me.
Advice can come from many. The best is from Source
Which is found in the moment of quiet when all
That is too much to handle can seem rather small.
There’s no harm to my ego if love I endorse.
Matter comes forth from spirit, and that is the key.

Progress Problems

Faithful Overnight Dump

Conflict caters to living like blood to its flow.
Subtle trials that accumulate while out of sight
Blanket everything focal to moving along.
It’s a question of what kind – not of right or wrong.
Any movement is progress by dawn’s early light
If it does not destroy me. This is good to know.

There are problems of two types. The terminal ones
Are just that! They’ll destroy issues well and for good.
People who do survive them, though they may be scarred,
Evolve much more efficiently. If it’s too hard
Then the life is disrupted and misunderstood.
There may be misperception of how the life runs.

Then there are Progress Problems. These are the best kind.
I can say that I have them, but they can’t have me
By the short hairs of sanity. Work they provide
For my spirit to master. I get to decide
Which kind all are assigned to and to what degree
I will let them deter me from my peace of mind.

Cubic Justice

Creative dissolusion

What occurs on Fifth Avenue could be a crime.
It depends on how well it’s played out in the cube.
Quadrilateral justice with votes up or down
Is the way to clear outlaws in government town.
Senators who were well paid will pump up the droob.
The swamp hasn’t been emptied. It’s now legal slime.

Arrogance becomes cubic for all to behold.
What is seen is a mockery on the world stage.
We’re a toddler brat nation. Our mother, the queen,
May be glad we’ve detached from their ruling machine.
Can we catch up on wisdom and then turn the page
To a brighter new chapter? What peace may unfold?

Cubic Justice is futile. It can’t stand the test
We The People administer. It Will Fall Flat!
In the country’s best interest, must we behave
As the brutal slave master’s most tractable slave?
We are much more in touch with our freedoms than that.
Can we look at the circus and hope for the best?

Hay, Yo, Pom Pay Your Way O…

The Birthplace of Kansas

You have small banana, and you need to go home
Where some munchkins may follow. The yellow brick road
Finds its way into Kansas for prophets of God.
What is pompous to Him indeed is a façade.
Meeting up with Him soon means your heart may explode
Due to pressure and guilt from the soul search syndrome.

Live the red state of mind. I don’t need to be kind.
Head and shoulder the hayseed to see just how far
The bread basket of pompenstance reaches for fame.
Bought credentials and background fulfill the end game
To appear to be Christian to placate the czar.
Now I know I’m in Kansas. It screws with my mind.

Spirituality is a thing become vile
In a mixture of hogwash to whitewash the truth.
“Ad astra per aspera?” Why shoot for the stars?
Can your difficulties be more sacred than ours?
Dare I turn my nose up to the arrogant youth?
Therapeutic it is, therefore, it is worthwhile.

Letting Go Of The Arrow

Karmic Direction

As I pull on the arrow’s tail, I can’t let go.
I am not the best archer. The nodes of the moon
Form the bow. The arrow’s head is the direction
I must shoot for so that karmic justice be done.
What I’ve gained over lifetimes appears as a boon
But it’s that which is opposite I need to know.

When I signed up for service from eternity
In the essence of spirit, all selves were aligned.
Cosmic citizenship was a part of the deal.
It became necessary to see, think and feel.
But, for soul growth, I need to be much more inclined
To make peace with my comfort zone but completely.

For me, that means that I must let go of the mind
And attend more to foolishness and having fun.
I can’t just hold the arrow. My arm will get weak.
I must aim to let go for the peace that I seek
And in doing so, evolution has begun
For this imperfect being who could be more kind.

The Appearance Of Invisibility

Invisible Walk In The Rain

Most days pass somewhat normally. Others take me
Through a cognitive twilight zone where I exist
Not as solid and real in this physical plane
As all others. And, knowing that this sounds insane,
Should I take full advantage (if I can’t resist)
Of my most selfish instincts while others don’t see?

I can disappear instantly then reappear
Sometimes seemingly in more than one time and space.
Like a giant scale quark or a chameleon
I can often trick people. I could call it fun
Were I sure there’s no danger of undue disgrace
For unnoticed behavior performed in the clear.

People often can’t see me. How I see the glass
Is half full of potential as I form a lens
That reflects my humanity in the same light
All are illuminated in. This fresh insight
Leaves me not so transparent that notice depends
On how much an enigma can imitate class.

Witnesses For The Defense

Motley Travesty

Any thug deserves witnesses for a mock trial
Even though they’re not relevant. This must be done
For the crook in the white house. There’s no other way
Senators can acquit him. Those bought can’t betray
What malignancy sources them. Others must shun
What amounts to a shit show in full circus style.

Why not call in Buggs Bunny and Bozo the Clown?
I’m sure they could bring clarity. Truth they would speak.
Even though they’re not real creatures, that’s just the point.
I could conjure a few after smoking a joint.
Colonel Sanders could testify with bone in cheek
To help give truth and justice the hearty thumbs down.

With the famed Harvard Douchewits and cum-stain-dress Starr
Nothing else may be needed for honor’s defeat
In this one of more battles surely to take place
In the halls of democracy. “It’s a disgrace,”
The defendant must utter in stark blind conceit
Until We as a nation retake who we are.

Why Forefathers Wore Wigs

Declaration of Decoration

Prim and proper forefathers were called the big wigs
At a time when men’s fashion included much hair.
Only rich people owned them in the beginning
But the trend became widespread. It soon was a Thing.
No man would be caught bald. People would laugh and stare
And they’d ruthlessly cast one in league with the pigs.

But how wigs became popular is peculiar.
Mothers of odd inventions are essence of same.
Most of Europe was plagued by a nasty disease
In the late fifteen hundreds. Through analyses
Of the symptoms most prevalent they put the blame
On a thing we call syphilis. My, how bizarre!

The significant outcomes are chronic hair loss,
Funky issues with head sores and persistent lice
From the wig made of goat and horse hair. So they would
Powder them with some lavender so they’d smell good.
The founders of our nation, in great sacrifice,
Have become honored headstones who gather no moss.

Way Past Sudden Release

Early Morning Release

Bolt of lightning in flesh has its way with the dust
As the beast in my heart cries for Sudden Release.
It is not in my nature to quietly sit
Nor to mingle in pastures with others unfit,
Through their self-proclamation, to go for the peace
That will manifest only through unbridled trust.

There’s enormous relief in my breaking away
From the structures sclerotic I chose while asleep
In an everyday stroll, lucidly in a daze,
Working hard at soliciting comfort through praise
From the world or a subset. My dream walk is cheap
And it’s way past high time that my heart I obey.

Restlessness is an ally, but not for too long
As it snaps at the stagnant ass without restraint.
There is justice in freedom and room to expand.
Other humans won’t ride me if they understand
That I’m not of that color nor am I a saint.
If I’m kept in a stable, all will know it’s wrong.

A Willingness To Share

Flow of Magic

I don’t have a portfolio. Does one have me
In a mindset of sorrow for not having more?
What boils down to my wealth is the force of my mind.
I can be awfully vicious, but I can be kind
Yet less kinder to those who’d consider me poor.
I maintain strength of spirit. My God would agree.

Spirit knows not my credit score nor does it care
How this flesh makes its living. It knows only growth
Through the lessons life offers and decisions made.
If assuming that life is a game to be played
To make way for abundance, then I shall have both
Mind and money… enough that I’ll willingly share.

In defense of my values possession I take
Of my natural resources. Conflict occurs
When my energy, cast as fine pearls to the swine,
Is thrown back in my face. I need no other sign
That I’m not in a space that my spirit prefers.
What I share is the call to perfect the fair shake.

Amazon Used To Be A Rainforest

Earth Monitization

In the heart of the Amazon stark terror reigns
In the form of a mastermind focused on need
To be someone outstanding in all life’s affairs.
But what of our earth mother? …The hell if he cares.
The intent that’s been hijacked all because of greed
Is now yanked from our consciousness. Bullshit remains.

What to think of a phrase such as ‘Amazon Prime?’
It sounds more like a choice cut of rainforest beef.

It remains though a green place. There’s big money there.
Any name with virginity needs to beware
That some jerk with a master plan will be its thief.
Soon our toolbox of nouns and verbs will escape time.

‘Amazon’ is a good name. It should not be lost
To the whim of big business. Let’s leave words alone.
They’re conceived to bring meaning and make things more clear.
We’ve devolved to the point where no words are held dear.
If you think my concern is a bit overblown
Think of misunderstandings and all that they cost.

Brashville Buyline

American Collage

Lay Lady Lay
Lay across my big brass bed.
You say it’s your bed too?
I’ll insist it’s mine instead.
Whatever feminine tricks are up your sleeve
I’ll turn them around, then I’ll make you leave

Lay Lady Lay
Lay across my big brass bed.
Pray Lady Pray
Pray that you don’t live a life of dread,
If things turn out that way
Perhaps it’s best if you were dead.

My mind is dirty and my style is mean
And in the sack I’m a stud muffing machine.

Play Lady Play
Play with yourself a – while.
I’d like to watch as you
Penetrate yourself and smile.

Work yourself into a frenzy and cry out loud
Then I’ll join in and ride the wave
When we get good we can perform for a crowd
We’ll be happy for all we gave.

Pay Lady Pay
Pay some mind to your fine man
In each and every day, let him you really can

I like to see my woman down on her knees
She must give head and swallow too
Our frigging lifestyle is a mental disease
You and I both know it’s true

Stay Lady Stay
Stay as the time is worth your while

Carrotface

Psychotic Armaggedon

People know of my orange glare. It’s now world renowned.
All I have in this world is my balls and my face.
Who puts all things together? I do. I trust Me.
You’ll get used to the rust flush eventually.
I’m entitled to everything due to my race
Even though I’m not qualified nor am I sound.

This great nation is pussy that begs to get fucked.
I’m the best one to do it with help from my boss.
In my own right I’m ruthless but he is supreme.
I endeavor to be like him. That is my dream.
What I crave is some bitch’s face to cum across.
I’ve a God given right to abuse and obstruct.

All cockroaches and rabbits succumb to my rule.
They will eat of my face and drink my precious blood.
They will bow down and worship unto my command.
Those who take a good fucking sit at my right hand.
History will ensure that my name will be mud.
I’ll be known through eternity as The Orange Fool.

The Miss Pearline Club

Soiled Senility

In a stinking club outhouse in poor negro land,
Elder hens with their sharp beaks first pray to our Lord.
To be Christian is part of our slave masters’ ways.
Should we take what we get and then give those dicks praise?
Christians jumpstart the habit of making folks bored.
The loud lull of hypocrisy is less than bland.

It’s the club of one person whose name is Pearline.
Everything that the club does is all about her.
Why an elderly narcissist is catered to
Has to do with submission to her point of view.
I cannot work well for her. The truth I prefer
To the spew of a fuckwit whose sense can’t bee seen.

It’s The Miss Pearline Club. Boy, did I shit the bed!
Had I known of its true name I would not have joined.
I thought it was a club for all kinds of old folk
But it’s just for old black women whose minds are broke.
Old men are of some value. From them is purloined
Every scrap of soul dignity before they’re dead.

“Why not flush the damned toilet?” My words reach their ears,
But from there, there’s a disconnect, or there’s no brain.
I’ve attempted to do it, but there’s a big lock
And the thought of my breaking it puts them in shock.
My shrink told me to quit. Much I’ve offered in vain.
I can now see beyond how this cesspool appears.

Every Good Snowball’s Chance

Winter Doodle

Liquid, solid and steam are the natural forms
Water makes its appearance. The snowball is one
Most aesthetic in nature. Formed into a sphere
By the hands become magic in mood cavalier,
One considers the snowball the essence of fun
Even when in the midst of aggressive snowstorms.

Every chance that a snowball could hope to attain
Completely by its own merits should not include
Being cast like a bad human soul into hell.
Idioms of psychosis in common hearts dwell.
To me, such an analogy seems awfully crude
Because it’s not uplifting; therefore, there’s no gain.

But then I’m not complaining. This world is just fine.
I enjoy frosty winters. The child within me
Wants to find other children and play in the snow.
I won’t disrespect snowballs. They were made to throw…
Not to mingle with thought forms of catastrophe.
All our chances are fluid, as if by design.

Inner Stability

The Stillness Within

There is strength in solidity to the extent
That it makes the heart hollow so resonance rings.
What’s inside isn’t emptiness. It’s a strong voice
That is heard only by those who listen by choice.
A strong sense of direction is what wisdom brings.
I have learned to achieve goals through firm commitment.

The heart, filled with vibration, distributes life force
To the bell become being. Order I attract.
Thought flow waxes pragmatic. What’s done can take root.
I consume perseverance in my life’s pursuit.
I can adhere to all that is rooted in fact.
All that gives my life meaning must come from my source.

I distinguish what works and what doesn’t by now.
Time to flush what is useless approaches past due.
That I know who I am is apparent to me.
It takes self-understanding to truly be free
From abstractions of failure that rarely ring true.
Things do work out, and I need not think about how.

Stable Genius

Horse Sense

Presidents need a stable? This one must think so.
Does he think that the ‘s’ word begins with a ‘c’?
If a c-table jenius could ever exist,
This one fits that description, though he may insist
That he can play both roles most superlatively.
What the hay may be chewed by is now become show.

He’s the boss of his stable. His berated beasts
Bow in brutal benevolence broad-based in fear.
Commanding them to whinny to will of his whim
Can never be sufficient to pacify him.
While alone in the stable, thought renders austere.
Hay becomes less fulfilling as everyday feasts.

As his soul places women abreast to the mare,
And as ample uprising becomes the world cry,
We may know he’d have made a fine pimp were he black
And brought up in the real world of danger and lack.
Blacks who do become president don’t cheat and lie
To the hoodwinked cult following who’d keep them there.

 For the head of a horse’s ass, horse sense is keen
In its handling of stables and sorting manure
From the hay most appropriate for state tv.
Smart is he who can horse around? Let that not be
What the nation must settle for, lest we endure
Leadership by the stupidest ass ever seen.

A Frantic Pace

The Blur of Life

People, places and objects blend into a blur
Right before me, and I am a part of it all.
I take care of my business as all others do.
I’d prefer to decipher the things that I view
In a manner more simple. I need not stand tall
In the midst of the madness that needs to occur.

Information on overload sent and received
Through magnificent networks designed to make ease
Of the process of living is what I become.
Life is listless and hopelessly humdrum to some.
The world can’t cease its motion nor can it appease
Those in search of contentment however perceived.

There’s a sense of excitement. Can I remain calm
While swept up in the live stream of energy flow?
Yes I can is the answer. My mindfulness of
My most cherished connections with those who I love
Counterbalance the tension. It’s good that I know.
Though it is overwhelming, I have not a qualm.

The Heart Of The Matter

Self Appreciation

Superficial relationships baptized in wax
Melt away in intense heat among any few.
When engaging with others, the meaning I seek
Is a deeper connection. The words that I speak
Are a soulful expression few can misconstrue
As the sound of some object open to attacks.

Writing can be romantic. My odd verse and I
Are each part of the other. Our hearts beat the same…
To the tune of awareness of all I can be.
All the things about people that satisfy me
Can be my point of focus. To love is my aim.
I might not feel this way long, so that I will try.

I acquaint my emotions with such a rare beast
That behaves as an intellect with an ego.
Creatures such as these, tamed by subconscious insight,
Will become worthy pets who can yield much delight.
Knowing self and accepting it can make it grow
So that grace and abundance are aptly increased.

Patience, Heal Thyself

Gentleness is the way of the soft, healing heart,
Having gained its compassion from having felt pain
On a deep karmic level through many lifetimes.
I have learned well my lessons when my spirit chimes
With the will to share everything, as it’s humane
To be kind to my kind with wisdom to impart.

When the wound seems incurable, time is at hand
To absorb the experience for what it’s worth.
I can get through the torment as I’ve done before
In adjacent realities I can’t explore
Except through meditation. I’ve come through this earth
For the needed rebalancing as had been planned.

Often chained in the cellar and hidden amid
Psychic ancestral rubble, the wound must be known
If there is to come healing. This may be my way
Of fulfilling the mission. My heart must obey
What the subconscious patterns within me have shown
To be qualified teachings I should not forbid.

For The Future

Not For Now

On a road with dark boundaries and with and end,
There can be but compliance with all that takes place.
I can’t see through the thickness. Chaotic and gray
Is the fragile conundrum I live out each day.
My wheels oft’ spin excessively to my disgrace
Due to pent up energy I need to expend.

It remains optimistic. My outlook today
Is one ripe with potential. Enthusiasm
And a new depth of focus attend to my growth.
Since before my arriving I’d crafted an oath
To feel good things and bad things and not to succumb
To the robust impatience that fetters my way.

We are here but a short time. As my time draws near,
I’m aware of my deficits. Late is ok.
That way it becomes easy to play the wise man.
It’s, again, a part of the original plan.
To ride into the earth plane and make my own way
Is to prepare the next time that I may appear.

Breaking Away

Ease of Escape

Emotions are excitable. I could rebel
Against my quaint surroundings. On impulse I move.
Feeling stuck in my routine, should I break away?
If life were unpredictable I would obey
What my spirit demands. All else I’d disapprove
As would make common sense to the bat out of hell.

There’s a truth in confinement that must come to light.
Clarity, when it’s needed, is brought on by change.
Expectations too dormant don’t make for surprise.
If I want to stay healthy, I must realize
That disruptions are blessings, although it sounds strange
To the robotic nature that cannot know right.

I’m at ease with what is now, but not without stress.
This odd mix can’t do much but short circuit my will.
Restlessness is relentlessly up in my face
Showing me other rainbows I may care to chase.
Please don’t try to restrain me or make me sit still.
My response may be shocking and to the excess.

Feel The Before Time

Malignant Nostalgia

Why the past makes so present this mist I become
Can no longer be answered. My mood relays far
Between binary guardrails. It’s in danger of
Being run over. If there is grace from above,
May it free me from feeling I’m not up to par?
I’ll stay inside this fine day since I’m feeling glum.

I don’t get ‘touchy feely’ at drops of most hats
But textures of some feathers that some need to hold
Bring on deep irritation. Some feel awfully nice.
To experience feeling, one must pay the price.
Some way to escape safely I shall make unfold
Through creative and totally right-brained formats.

On the brink of delusion, to mitigate fear,
Can the only solution be sinking within?
Subconscious influences are stronger right now.
I can sense more, and all feelings I should allow
To enlighten me and not get under my skin.
What appears to be foggy shall soon become clear.

Affluenza Vaccine

Unspecified Disquietude

Life is full of abundance. All children must know
That all good things are wonderful. They attain worth
By the feelings we give them. But things exist here.
Dense is this dire dimension though sometimes most dear.
Every child should experience comfort and mirth.
Should behavior befuddle, then how must that show?

How could one feel neglected in paradise found
With no effort nor struggle? Need they have concern?
It may not be apparent. If true, we are blind
To our most valued assets – the fruit of our kind!
Life cannot get so complex that we can’t return
To more wholesome relations and sharing unbound.

Interact with emotion. Avail of your time
To their own daily drama. Should they seek advice,
Let it come from the one who cares for them the most.
The responsible parent need not be engrossed
In the ethics of “coolness” and how to be nice.
What they need is attention, and this is most prime.

Free Range Peeves

Surprise Annoyances

Peeves are lousy as pets. How they get on one’s nerves
At most inopportune moments just to say, “Hi.
We’re so glad that you chose us. We won’t go away.
We’re programmed to disrupt you throughout your long day.”

I regret that I have them. They oft make me cry.
It’s a tough situation that no one deserves.

So, I bought some new storage – a network cloud drive.
Now that it’s been connected, it wants to make friends.
Did I ask for a friend, yet one without a soul?
Any app that gets friendly just wants to control
More than I had intended. To what selfish ends
Does it give me such grief? I’ve no will to survive.

And these damned pets are free range. They migrate about
In a haphazard manner. They up and go pop.
Like most arrogant weasels, they act on their own.
If I click on the app, nothing useful is shown.
If I cannot disown them, should I try to stop
Their aggressive behavior? I struggle with doubt.

Pet Peeves are a fine nuisance. All should be called strays.
The worst ones that are free range deserve the most care.
When a seller’s fine product continues to sell,
Too Much Mouth has the helper that may function well.
But you screw with desktop icons. How would you dare?
It is best that I end here. I haven’t much praise.

sambo donaldo

Ridicule

What an odd nigger sambo! That’s not a white face.
It’s more of a rust color due to failing health.
No doctor will go near him to tell him he’s ill.
He’ll decry what may help him. He’s caught in the thrill,
Having worldwide attention on his perceived wealth.
He cannot see that soon he will bow in disgrace.

‘Such a little orange sambo, this eight-year-old child
In the form of an old man with many fake toys.
Superficial connections work out as best friends.
How important decisions are made all depends
On how much adulation the ego enjoys
In the heat of the moment. Often, they’re reviled.

Yes, I’ll mock your behavior. I’ll put your ass down!
That is, if that is possible. You May Be There
At the pit of a black hole with inverse effect,
Pushing everything outward. With all disrespect,
I will cheer in this new year when you are laid bare.
Your recalcitrant flock will see that you’re a clown.

Animated Suspension )Versus Vice Versa(

Existence Between States

Suspended Animation, as most of us know,
Is a state where activity comes to a halt
Or is made to creep slowly, as if by some force
Totally supernatural. What is the source
Of this lame definition? Indeed, who’s at fault?
There’s a whole lot more to this, as I will now show.

One must first find the inverse. Though non sequitur
In its mirror reflection, trust that it makes sense
As a logical theory, just as is with math.
Seeing from this perspective is surely the path
To cosmic understanding and wisdom immense.
Both worlds are parts of one so that growth may occur.

We’re Suspended in life here and Animated
In a way that is cumbersome. Bodies are weak.
But when we move to Spirit, Suspension must cease.
We’re no longer in motion. The Spirit knows peace.
Animation, in Spirit, is much too oblique
For our flesh minds to fathom because they’re flesh fed.

Animated Suspension is that other state
Where we are when we leave here – this thing we call earth.
We’re Suspended from life here to Animate there
With an infinite freedom and life without care
‘Til it comes time we’re moved to consider rebirth.
Neither world is the better. In both we create.

Reaching Agreements

Consentual Achievement

Talk to people and people will talk back to you.
It’s a good time for travelling both near and far
Seeking out other earth trekkers and touching base.
What may have been a problem becomes a closed case.
What has not been discussed will remain a tough scar.
Healthy communication helps me breathe anew.

There exists a transaction in every handshake.
A connection is made. Circuitry is complete
For the flow of God’s good grace and blessings galore
To the hearts of both parties. Who knows what’s in store
If I neglect the hookup… other than defeat?
Should business be electric? It’s all that I make.

Time enough becomes plenty for mental pursuits,
Catching up on life’s details and making contacts
That may become productive in myriad ways.
I’ll negotiate mindfully. That always pays.
I can’t let opportunity seep through the cracks.
I must exercise all of my best attributes.

Commercial Affairs

Group Approval

Analyzing of finances is to cash flow
As breathing is to good health so that we may thrive.
Commerce is interaction with those of like mind.
Business equals good exercise when it’s resigned
To a meaningful purpose to keep it alive.
Product comes from good planning; therefore it is slow.

Is that it in a nutshell? Quite hardly the case
Would it be for behavior not to be complex.
What I’d like is some insight to sort through my mess.
I’ve a knack for neglecting, with shame I confess.
Give me guidance toward wisdom in all due respects.
Let my whole soul be filled with your cosmic embrace.

…Time to turn my attention to physical things
That I must make of value. My mental pursuits
Need to be sharply focused on earning my keep.
Information gained sensually isn’t cheap.
All good work does, in time, bear significant fruits
Like the ones that the Spirit most graciously brings.

A Dominant Personality

Power of the Feminine

I am good… not the greatest. I want to be fair.
I consider my assets worth standing up for.
Who can do that for me but the me that I am?
Energy and ambition outline my program.
Having conquered one mountain, I could go for more.
I am cute but ferocious as any ma bear.

Some would say I’m assertive… others, perhaps worse.
Life has made me a warrior noble of cause.
Many varied impressions upon folk I make.
What they all have in common is that I don’t brake
Under maximum pressure. I seek no applause.
I do challenge fearlessly all that is perverse.

It’s my time for adventure beyond the wild west.
History craves return on investment of pain.
I respect my vitality. Freedom is mine.
Though I can be combative, it is by design
That we all become mindful of what we may gain.
Change is on the horizon. Will it be our Test?

Trollfactory Bulb

Toxic Awareness

Fake spam comments from Russia a half a mile long
Are the only ones I get. At least I exist.
Yet you need not enlighten me. My sense of smell
Keeps me mindful of danger. Though you may excel
At controlling behavior, your work is dismissed
As a dark and faint echo of having done wrong.

At least write in plain English. Cyrillic I don’t know.
It looks too much like hogwash imbedded with spew
Of the coldest resentment the heart can withstand.
You can speak with my accent. I know that you can
Act as if you’re the best friend that I ever knew.
I became keen to your sickness some time ago.

I once worked at a factory. Dog food they made.
I lasted ‘til near lunchtime. The smell made me sick.
I don’t feed my dog dog food. I know better now
How people out gross animals. I made a vow
To trust in the olfactory. Smell is the trick
To discerning the fear bear. I am not afraid.

You’ve invented the troll farm. We know that by now.
Trolls are lowly paid workers who work with no light.
They can see what they’re doing by watching we fools
As we flail about aimlessly with broken rules.
What I offer to all is my deepest insight
For what it may be worth and what you may allow.

Negative Conclusions

Awaiting the Verdict

Learn To Cry! Your prescription disqualifies me
From the positive outlook evasive to some.
Is my vision distorted? Do you know the cause?
Can the clue to what is now be found in what was?
Stick a dick in my sick mind. See if you will cum.
Fear and doubt plague the present. How can I be free?

Try to find some compassion? Untether my heart
From the grief, pain and sorrow to others I’ve caused
In my fight to be righteous in my twisted ways.
Give me hope for the future. Bullshit me with praise.
Seeking outside connection, true progress is paused.
If I must go on living, I need a new start.

My conclusions are baseless while dwelling within
This homemade dissolution I may well deserve.
Hopelessness is an option. I need but one more.
May my life provide many that I can explore?
Negativity teaches, if I have the nerve,
To prepare for its lesson then let it begin.

Attractive Differences

Outstanding Feminine

Sparkling fresh and unusual changes occur
In my everyday manner. Clearly I stand out
Like pure life among statues – metallic in ways
That my heart cannot fathom. What change can they praise?
A romantic adventure would without a doubt
Be enhanced with excitement as I would prefer.

Life is fine, and disruptions are welcome today.
They look like opportunities to take a chance
In believing the universe honors my back.
Positive are the outcomes when I’m knocked off track.
To be drowned in self-pity or maintain my stance
Is a simple decision. I feel I’m at play.

 Differences Attractive defy circumstance
Of belligerent nature. I need to let go
Of all that which is stale from incessant non-use.
I alone am the jailer who can set me loose.
I relate to ex-prisoners, as we all know
How complacent captivity holds us in trance.