HAPPY THANKSGIVING I AM BLESSED RETURN HOME AUDI PARKED I AM QUICKLY REMINDED OF MY DESPERATE PLEAS THANK GOD I RELOCATED JUST IN TIME SECTION 8 HOUSING SAVED ME AND MY FAMILY FROM BECOMING VICTIMS OF THE STRANGE AUDI PARKED INSIDE ON THE FLOOR A DEAD WOMAN COULD THE KILLER BEEN SENT TO MURDER ME MY CHILDREN HERE WE ARE AGAIN AUDI PARKED HEART MEDICATION TAMPERED WITH ELOQUIS FIR MY AFIBRILLATION IRREGULAR HEARTBEATS ALSO HELPS WITH BLOOD CLOTS METOPROROL FIR SEVERE CHEST PAINS MY GOD I FEEL VIOLATED ABD SAD FIR MY NEIGHBOR BREAKING IN MY HOME TO TREAT A HEART PATIENT WITH TIES TO THE DEAD WOMANS PARKED AUDI IS IT CIRO THE MAFIA THE KIDNAPPERS THE THREATS RETURN I AM LIVID ANGRY HOW DARE MY NEIGHBORS ACTION BREAK IN MY HOME USING KEYS HE REKEYED OUR LOCKS AGAIN USE CAR USED GOLF CART SALEMAN USUALLY HAVE SPECIAL EQUIPMENT TO REPLACE ABD DUPLICATE LOCKS FOR MONTHS NOW EVERY TIME WE RETURN HOME ELOQUIS METOPROROL TRAMADOL KLONOPIN EVEN VIAGRA FUNNY I FEEL SAD FOR MY BURGULARS WITH HEART CONDITION OR PERHAPS AN ELDERLY PERSON WITH NO INSURANCE
Too many times
I have been left alone
Beaten and naked
Without safety in my home
No longer from without
But within, again and again
Shards of soul, scream
As words and actions scratch the rim
...of the glass
The cuts are layers deep
Blood clots and heals
The rips continue
Until the bottom reveals
Time passing survival
Habit hugging holistic hoops
Retrograde reasoning
Bubbles forcing loops
...on the wheel
No more!!!
I sit here naked, but not ashamed
Light on the left and balance on the right
TRUTH has finally accepted her name
Though rejection comes
And blinded eyes will deny
She walks in LOVE
As eagle wings fly
...to the moon
Written by Trudy Schrader on 11-21-2025
My heart sinks dire,
Blood clots forming a nest,
It almost seems impermeable,
Yet I’ve long been put to rest.
What’s seen as trivial-
My soul and heart whimper,
For a call, hope, anything to linger.
They seek out my amiability,
Along with sheets of tears and gold,
It almost seems unpredictable,
How one can make me out as so loved.
Please… listen closely-
I call out to you last once more…
Long sleeves hide
long numbed nights.
Thin is the skin
of her world,
needlework scores
a secret embroidery.
Tattoos of despair
on arms and feet.
Once she was,
now she is almost a not.
Bloodroots,
blood clots,
blue tracks
these are her blood lines now,
lines that will lead her
ever further away
into empty dreams.
Will she save herself?
A question mark
swells unanswered in her veins.
T W O T'S IN the media and on the bench.'
Black as sin, are the gowns that are meant
To instill fear.' Well they give me a laugh like
Bad theater actors..They have no heart.' For
The art.' No realization of reality.' Hell must
Be their room of rest.? When they gather do
They swagger.? And compare of whom they have
Robbed the most.' Then there are T W O T''s
In the police force..we find our most unfriendly clots' but they are best described in homogeny ( just label them all as (t w o t s)
MORBID-19
Gain of function? *
Fauci says it's fiction **
So without hesitation
I embrace salvation
First shot
Globalist propaganda
What's their agenda?
Trusting the media
I welcome mRNA
Second shot
Side effects appear
Should I mutineer?
As I wrangle my fear
The next jab I cheer
Third shot
Again they stab my vein
I feel an intense pain
Clots invade my brain
God I invoke but in vain
Fourth shot
Am I being foolish?
Swimming in a Petri dish
My free will I relinquish
One more dose to finish
Fifth shot
Now and forever
I am a cadaver
Notes:
* Gain of function (GOF) is research to make a pathogen x10 to
x100 times more dangerous than normal.
** Anthony Fauci; infectious disease expert, director of NIAID,
funded Coronavirus GOF research in Wuhan lab in China.
Drops.
In clots they come,
Jetting down festers of
The mean clouds that soar even higher.
Down here, the feet of the soil are mere clod.
Furnace rules upon the face of the waves,
Brewed and distilled from faceless chimneys.
The farmer’s rain is abroad.
Drought yawns with anger among the choir of
Desolate rainclouds.
Skeletal drops.
Measured in fingertips,
They drip wastefully on the teeth of the tarnished hoe.
A cloudburst comes to nothing as nightfall
Descends upon lean, famished thresholds
Laid waste by a running lightning.
We never walked down the isle
in africa we never do when pocket light
so we sat on plastic seats in the heat
the tent tried and died in the steam
sweat, hopes and hot tea
We never walked down the isle
but jus one job was to be
in love , in respect, in you
till blood clots an the skins turn purple
but we died within the year
the breath did not dry
We never walked down the isle
i know it must be a lie to be wife
to be fine like siblings when alive
just sitting and eating
eating and ting
ing the sleeping
sleeping without dying
dying without loving
loving your wife whome you married by the lake
~Running~ death steps behind ~ don't stop to tell how close.
Swallowing a clump of cacti. Throat skewers.
Aubergine blood clots. Cough, life's wick smaller.
Struggle effective so long ago, like swinging axes,
which kerf felled the tall tree and brought the timberwolves sorrows?
Can't celebrate on broken lips ~nihilistic providence~
the cancer of Hope eating body as it canonizes soul.
Roasting in this blue basilisk without a cloud over Hell,
lassoed by titian sands, shall our desert enshrine martyrs' bones?
“Thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes.” He said,
Filled with milk and honey but overwhelming his expectations - he feared,
Finding peace and solace in its feel of evermore candor-not for-yet made for-in plentiful, he cheered,
Until I sought no more in its unparalleled enchare.
Out the door she gushed and out his heart she made deport,
Staring across the open door, across the hallway with his heart implode,
Laying waste to the mask which clots his eyes afore.
I implore to thee, whose eyes are that of a doe,
Sing into my ears once more and ward off my fiery foes,
Dance with me once more, oh how I MISS YOU so.
Ask your doctor about 603712 Sporatic Moratic the TV ad man says.
It might be the only way to reduce your pneumonia.
Possible side effects include
Itching
Hives
Canker sores
Cancer
Swollen limbs
Blood clots
Shortened breath
Shingles
Warts
Shortened life
I immediately call my doctor, demanding he prescribe this to me.
Fabrics are sown
So eyes are drawn to quieter things
Softer
Scratching isn’t as unbearable as screaming
I wield control to my ears
Over the entry of theirs too
Better than taps
Pressure, expected,
Is not that intense
Leaning, relying, assisting
Mostly whispers cannot escape me
My ears with a constant ache
My head tries to convey my heart
Yet they say I cannot expel it to the outside
So the frog turns into a lion
And I cannot breathe
My intensity builds up
And it clots my heart
Eyes, eye
I don’t care, get it off me
The screams around me speak my name
Don’t they
Let me scratch more of my thoughts
The paper grows worn
And my feelings do too
Understand me
I do not want to attempt
to communicate
But your mocks make me overthink
My stomach churns the thought of my incompetence
I cannot talk,
So it’s my fault, really
"Do I still matter?" I lament, in quiet despair,
As kindred acquaintances vanish, dissolved in thin air.
Solitude clots the cistern, blocks my spirit's flow;
Collateral damage obscures the expansive panorama's glow.
Vision dims, and trembling hands do falter.
Crutches bear the weight of ceaseless alter.
As though a harlequin, encased in collodion's mournful woe,
A vestigial soul, defying ruin's throes.
Primitive dictums supplanted by the pragmatism of the age:
"Who cares?" imbibed in youth's cage.
The sickle and hammer, now relics of savage years,
Venomous words sealed in the vaults of my fears.
Futile is the grasp to decipher Braille's cryptic code—
The ramifications vast, yet still I brave the road.
Reclaiming the immutable verity of my existence,
Hope that today's conundrums will shape tomorrow's persistence.
Above mentioned places, how I feel so for you with an m p
mark holland, who dragged you all through, the agony of con-vid oh
What a 'to-do' I beleive hes proud of locking your elders? Away And proud of that potion..The coercion and hey! He's
Glad that your churches were closed all around he's proud
Of how upon the truckers they came down, if you've blood clots
He's happy.' If your homeless and sick, he's estatic he was
Paid well. His wallets real thick, not as quite; as thick as his
I Q now thats something else yet back to my thoughts on
His inflated self' i lhear' he advises eye contact, why not
Take him at his word? Confront how he stands before you in
True actions get heard.!
joyfully pursuing nothing today
no plan
no schedule
no worries
no cares
my car sits forlornly
she misses me
I do not care
this retirement gig is delightful
I can sit in one spot for days
and I do
until Dr. G begins talking about blood clots
that go to your heart and kill you
when you sit for too many hours
I walk up the hill one time
hoping that is enough
because I want to sit in a recliner
and watch TV, paint or write poems
joyfully pursuing nothing today
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