.
fromg thuh distance
fromg realm
thuh
uv
can touch
not
hern tutu
peekaboo
share'n breech camberz
natez
Farmer Wade is going around, and raising morale, is what i've found, with the
Billboard battalion; strong on the ground.'
All Aussie warriors, may-be you know? How they Astound '
Some of 'our heros' who want to go.'
And they will do it right, will not be baited.)
I let all know.! And stand in solidarity, I guess its fated.?
A land of hero's each one i treasure.'
Thats not debated, Standing to count, the traitors and foe's
Agressors.' All blessings, i bless you' in unity; to victory go! into brigades form may your numbers
Rise..' I salute you all you men and women
Keep tight keep active, and plan for a winning. And no surprise.!
Legacies of the now and the after
Blossoms and glooms in a cycle
A breech of sadness and laughter
All embedded in the cycle of life
Thoughts of the past in the present
These are thoughts of the after life
Life's cycle has turned full circle.
Dreaded thoughts of the after life
(Written 12/08/2024)
I watch the harbor through the falling snow
the sky and sea form one vast, gray tableau
the sun is nothing but a weak, background glow
the scene draws me, as if hypnotically.
Five mile’s lighthouse warnings go unvoiced
its strobes not lashing out, so what’s its point
it stands majestically but disappoints
replaced electronically
A tiny lobster boat makes its landward way
towards the inlet from the wider channel bay
a powdery blizzard is underway
which melts into the mirror sea.
Ospreys still hunt round the lobsterman's pride
snowflakes stain them as they soar and glide
other seabirds huddle side by side
shivering and crowing lividly.
Through the narrows the lonely boat steams
past icy Luddington Rock and East Breakwater's breech
its berths and moorings, within minutes reach
and sadly, it’s time for me to leave.
.
.
Songs for this:
Far Far Away (Charles Tone Mix) [feat. Brenda Boykin] by Tape Five
Hypnosis Theme (feat. Marina Quaisse) by Wax Tailor
How may we share ethereal sights we see,
such as for example, flickering of space,
revealing light from heaven that set’s soul free?
How may we transmit bliss imbibed by God’s grace,
transmuting each cell of form that we may be
by day and night transfixed in divine embrace?
Pastors preach, scriptures teach but truth’s out of reach.
When will walls of delusion, souls choose to breech?
The colors you provide pleasing to the eye
the first breath that I take I'll inhale I wait
awaiting my heart beats so my soul entity
I am breech but yet I am whole I am Bound
by my soul birth in heaven now
I'm on Earth terrain Haven
I acknowledge that my breath from you
my Father and it's you that I have
and that's you that is great serenity is found
in the sweets of your heart
Mercy abound as your love surround
beautiful endearings I am your beloved
thank you my father you are Glory
my mercies fate Elohim Father
you glory I designate
Glory Hallelujah
Why does Ms. Breech teach children?
She doesn’t even like kids!
From the mouth of a five-year-old
our “teacher of the year” would hold a grudge forever
against this innocent honest five-year-old, if she knew.
I guess no one told the selection committee
how many students despise school after kindergarten here
wonder if being boss’s cousin has something to do with her crown?
Ethereal, wispy, will o' the wisp fare
Alights from a whisper, a sigh in the air
Fleeting, sly, vague and cunning, just out for each
A lingering mist wafting into the breech.
Invisible tendrils so sneaky and smart,
Enchanting the senses, igniting the heart.
It's so surreal and illusive in play
It tricks you into succumbing to its sway.
With every breath, seeping in, it weaves a spell,
In the vacant spaces where our vain hopes dwell.
Painting mirage of hope when door left ajar,
The ethereal becomes a guiding star.
The pervasive milieu of ether's vapor
Makes the vague wisp of ethereal real.
All lined up
In a single c rank
Twenty two cans of beer fit
Inside the barrel of a tank,
And driving a tank
Is an exhilarating thrill?
But at times you can’t?
Avoid some road kill.
Cookie comes behind
And what does he do?
Guts and chops and slices?
For a nice Range Stew.
When you’re tired and hungry
And really needing to eat
You gobble down the stew
Because meat is meat is meat.
And when its spiced
And cooked up well
A mouth starts watering
Just at the smell.
Just making sure
No Rupert is near
Off to the breech for
A few cans of beer
Range stew is fine when
Washed down with ale
And by and large they all
Live to tell the tale.
Given the choice
It wouldn’t be range stew;
When you’re tired and hungry
Any food at all will do.
Tired and replete
All give thanks
For the cans of beer that fit
Down the barrel of a tank.
My Veteran Cavalry friends insist this is true, so thanks Hobbo, Dave R and Harry for the inspiration.
A centric couple
Exchanging different coloured roses
Holding hands with vice like grip
Earth betwix their curling toes
Beneath a moonlight torn astray
With such so birthed exploding hearts
It even stirs the deaf neighbours
And labours love
Valentine poison arrow breech
Still hidden in the shadowy hall's
Of old school gym lockers
Now used as passwords
That scar to this day
Because
They are a cold reminder
Of what it was like growing up
Deemed to be never worthy
Of 1 a single solitary flower bought
Nor
Valentine's card written
Hopefully better late than never
Something's are wasted on the young
And are worth waiting for
And mean so much more
When the right time
And the right person comes along
Said someone far wiser under the
guise of I
With a sheave full of blunt arrows
And teary eyes
As if to say
1 day in the future you will eventually
understand
And come that day look back and
finally be able to smile without
Regret
And nothing else will matter
But love itself relatable in this here
moment present tense actuality now
Come the Reunion and everything is
back to the future
Beyond Her Womb
beyond her reach,
a child she had born, a breech,
crept into a cab across the street,
careful that their eyes not meet.
OR . . .
Beyond Her Womb
beyond her reach,
a child she had born, a breech,
stepped from a cab across the street,
eager for their eyes to meet.
Ah, to write
to gather random thoughts
corral them
Giddy-up….whoa….style.
Chase down those tumble weeds,
itinerant thoughts
blown by the whimsical winds
of imagination
into ever unmanageable
clusters of confusion
straining at the painful restraints
of barbed wire freedom.
A delusional state of self imposed
unconscious conformity
ever alert for the “rustlers”
who would cut the wire
breech the delusion
change brands
claim victory.
John G. Lawless
©12/19/2021
In a silent world of forgotten dreams,
Where disappointments and heartaches lie.
A world where hopes and dreams have died
And bid their last goodbye.
In a deserted land of times gone by,
Where once we used to tread.
Like autumn's leaves from summer's dreams
Lay abandoned, cold and dead.
Those winter chills of unfulfilled dreams
Linger on the ground.
The warmth and glow have left my life
Now that you're no longer around.
In a silent world of forgotten dreams,
A place we failed to breech.
I look towards the star we wished upon
But sadly failed to reach.
John Read.
Mayday, Mayday Kirk!
Transport to Galileo
Needs energizing
Running on impulse
All deflector shields are down
And venting plasma
Possible core breech
Romulan battle cruiser
De-cloaked and attacked
They've taken the ship
Corbomite Maneuver may
Be the last resort...
After nine months of pregnancy she was admitted to the nearest hospital with no labor pain so artificial oxytocin was given but nothing transpired. Child laid in her womb position footling breech and finally took birth after caesarean. Baby was looking like a red apple and an ordinary female child with dreams to accomplish.
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