yesterday we went to get blood work
the line was too long
today we went back an hour earlier and had blood work
the Urgent Care center made me feel urgent
people were wearing masks
as if we are in the throes of another pandemic
this made me feel uncomfortable
bubonic plague?
small pox?
chicken pox?
Covid-19?
mad cow?
Is it the latest scam, three its dead blamed on rats..Bubonic shaded.? Just think on that.' Astra zenenca started trialling a drug
To combat the black death, is there a rub.?
In July 2020 while other headlines were big
Yet these people died from heart illness what gives.? I know myocarditis has been up since 2021..What a co-incidence and maybe? Then some..Rats causing heart deaths is a new one on me.' Just how pushy can big pharma be, could it be health deteriation was what was planned?
And don't rats just galvanise reactions.?
As science and feelings stand.'
If
If I could turn back time, and change a single act
What pressure there would be, how would I react?
Would I stop Jesus' crucifixion, make Hitler a peacemaker?
Would I snuff out Bubonic Plague or kill the first cells of Cancer?
I could warn of Nuclear damage, the burn of radiation
I could help the natives in their cause, protect their sovereign nations
I could equalise the gift of wealth, and slavery abort
There's all manner of historical hysteria I could sort
But knowing that each tiny change will lead to new endeavours
Who's to say that all the consequences would be better?
So what if Hitler's noble peace prize makes a German hero
Only for Goebbels to emerge, as Fascism's De Niro
So what I'll do, I'll accept fate is fettered by said powers
And focus on tomorrow, which gets nearer by the hour
I'll own my regrets, I'll stop blaming and start living
I won't look back or change the past, I'll spend my time forgiving
Here's to the fellow we hold dear,
his blood, it was said, teutonic.
He holed up in County Lincolnshire
to escape the plague (bubonic).
'Twas there an apple fell on his head
and gave him a wonderful notion.
Before he even went to bed,
he wrote down the laws of motion.
“There is not a crime, there is not a dodge, there is not a trick, there is not a swindle, there is not a vice which does not live by secrecy.” - Joseph Pulitzer
There is something that few recognize,
But is transparent to many.
Kept in the dark and loyal to no one,
Hoping that nobody can find it.
It is a silent killer,
Swooping down on the smallest
Sense of innocence.
Give it an inch,
It goes a mile.
It is not an atomic bomb,
Nor the Bubonic Plague.
It is all in the slight notion
Of injustice.
~*~
“Injustice anywhere is a threat
To justice everywhere.
- Martin Luther King Jr.
Despite this monster inside me
Despite this creature I have become
Something more siren than human
Beckons to the benthic of woe
I must be crazy
This cannot be real
Then the words crawl into my ear
Your the essence of pandemonium
Chaos orchestration symphonies of moribund
Threnody of the last spark pathetic velleity
We are one entity
Abyssal dismal flicker of an ember snuffed out
Choke on billowing smoke
Lost in the tenebrous, anger filled the air
I am not broken
Teeth glare
Fangs bubonic virulent crush
Caricature of the future versus sentinel of what was
The first move is on ' its reported a 15 year old boy
Has died from the bubonic plauge (Black death)
In Mongolia, apparently two people had it in 2021
At A place named Khovd.) They also died
Reportedly contracted from eating marmot
Meat is the line..Seems like the bat eating theory.?
In 2021 astra zeneca started making a plauge vax
Same year as covid was being advertised.' Seems
Strange.? This could well be the next fear driver
Some purported jabs already being administerd and
A local lockdown was in place, there are also reports
Of university teams identifying the start of the
Middle ages plauge outbreak as Kyrgyzstan.'
It seems all intermeshed and suggestive to my mind.'
The dominoes are in the process of being placed.'
The green and fading afternoon
as starkness sets within, behind,
long shadows creep, with twilight soon.
The green and fading afternoon
releases brute bubonic moon.
The town folks dream with peace of mind.
The green and fading afternoon.
as starkness sets within, behind.
1/31/2022
You scream for my attention in the checkout aisle
With tales of infidelity and sordid guile.
You pique my curiosity with spicy clues.
Gives me those supermarket tabloid blues.
You document the glamour of the silver screen
By trumpeting the rise of some new movie queen,
Then interview the hooker who her husband screws,
Exposing supermarket tabloid blues.
You hear a scandal splash and then you go to press
And document the details of the whole damn mess.
Your hottest stories simmer like delicious stews
To feed us supermarket tabloid blues.
You swear to any rumor's truth, however vague,
By spreading sordid gossip like bubonic plague,
Then quote the Bill of Rights if anybody sues,
Exploiting supermarket tabloid blues.
"The Pentagon communicates with UFOs."
"Archbishop blesses little boys without their clothes."
You’re churning out more headlines than my head can use.
Gives me those supermarket tabloid blues.
There's just one small confession that I have to make;
I’ve got a funny need to hear those stories break.
A guilty little pleasure that I freely choose.
Bring on those supermarket tabloid blues.
Appreciating yourself, when others turn away with scorn.
Each day, you must love you as the sun doth the morn!
Feed your body, and nourish your dreams.
Pay no mind to those who give you no heed.
They are as shards of glass!
And people who do not understand class.
They might consider your poetry, to theirs,quite inferior!
That's because their poets. hearts exist in their posteriors.
Remember to laugh at the gods on poetic unicorns!
Hugging non-existent Muses in falsely lighted uniforms.
This is a magnificent place, where you can indeed pen freely.
It's not the Roman Coliseum; the true poets honor you here, dearly.
Many will avoid your work like bubonic plague.
They may have the virus, it's all the rage!
Love those who appreciate you, avoid the rest.
Who are "they?"- the poets who dream they are the best.
So, now! Please write this very day.
Making believe you are blossoms on the first day of may.
10/24/2020
Poem 2
Halt, halt,
Give Lust your hands, but NOT your hearts,
For when they hover around you,
You are an imminent carcass,
Loitering and flapping with the disposition of a butterfly and grasshopper combined.
The sight of her should trigger alarum bell in every wise man,
They waste your time,
They waste your money,
Sup your energy and
get you into trouble.
Like a bubonic plague,
Spreading devastating virus,
As a butterfly, pollinating;
With the juice supped,
They flutter away
Seeking other juicy flowers in the circle of moral doom.
Refrain from the hype of chauvinistic egotism when lust ignites,
For another trial may certify your demise,
No wonder, they are called Women
For many are the woes of most men
An English village lay at peace
Until that catastrophic day
When flea-infested rolls of fleece
Brought pestilence and death their way.
They heard the village rector say
'No remedy can bring release
In quarantine we all must stay
So that the spread of plague might cease.'
09.02.20
NOTE:
On 1 November 1666 farm worker Abraham Morten gasped his final breath - the last of 260 people to die from bubonic plague in the remote Derbyshire village of Eyam. Their fate had been sealed four months earlier when, after the onset of the plague from flea-infested cloth from London, the entire village made the remarkable decision to quarantine itself in an heroic attempt to halt the spread of the Great Plague.
Halt! Halt! Give em your hand but not your hearts
For when they hover around you,
You are an imminent carcass.
These vipers of Eden unrelenting, carry about their venoms
Fluttering and flapping with the disposition of a butterfly
And a grasshopper combined.
The sight of her should trigger an "alarum" bell in every wise man.
With the juice supped, they flitter away
Seeking other juicy flowers in the circle of moral doom
Like bubonic plague, spreading devastating virus
Like the physician ampoule, ready on your skin to pour.
They waste your time,
Waste your money
Sapp your energy
Leaving you with unforgettable miseries
Be not down on a chauvinistic egotism in her environment
For another trial, may certify your demise
Hold still my little blue, for I know you are ready to explode
I shall extract your exuberant energy with vibrancy and vigor
For my palettes drip with desire of your aura feeding the white
As the emptiness is slowly fed the eternal sky magically manifests
Such joy and exaltations, we can now see forever thru dimensions
The oceans divinely dance with your prismatic overtones shimmering
Without warning the calamitous clouds creep in, we feel your wrath
With treachery and collusion, we are thrown into the vastness voids
No escape from the nefarious never as the barren bitter cold stings
A bubonic blue surrounds the lachrymal landscapes of frozen tears
Thru minds of men your rage runs rampant destroying hemispheres
For me you are the light of day and the shade of sorrow, you are Blue.
Jan.05.2019
Blue Poetry
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
Placed 8'th...Thank You
Reptile meat got a foul swallow
The creeping things they eat
emit putrid vapors ...
vocal odors lemmings do follow
Falling off the cliff
into the mouth ...
Bask in the saliva nasty
Get paralyzed stiff —
a human mouse ...
Cheesy flavor of a patsy
Snakes eat rats
Big boa sin swallow up
little mice men
Slithering meat
is an abominable eat
Humans eat the snake
that ate the rat
Viper lip spitting fake
was a lying cat
Ouroboros wail,
head eating the tail
Gator toes tipping the scale;
safe open ... lock failed
The creeping things you eat
will give you weasel daydreams
Gorge on the slithering meat,
digest Bubonic Plague schemes
Snakes eat rats
King cobra sin swallow up
pawn mice men
Humans eat the snake
that has flicker love for the Mickey
Fork lips spitting fake,
Komodo dragon claws blood lickey
Ouroboros wails,
serpent head eating the rodent tails
Tapering toes charm the faint frails;
jaws open ... heart failed
A wicked, pulmonary feed
is slithering in the high, tall weeds
A taste of paralyzing greed
will molt covetously into evil deeds
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