There lies a city, far, far away—
A land of tranquil grace,
Where peace flows gently like a river,
For the people command the most.
Within its walls, the cubs and lambs
Dwell side by side in harmony.
Vice is but an ancient tale,
Because the people command the most.
O my city, learn from your peers,
Heed the voices of your own.
If you would know true peace and plenty,
Let your people command the most.
We are all in it..' we're all a part.' Each action and reaction.. The stops and starts
We have also the oil, of the Spirit thats Number One..Apply it librally or the rust will
Come it starts in flecks..Its liable to grow its a sickness acedemia, is most liable to know' it seizes.' It captures first off its exponents..I thrives in humidity and damp
Also neglect is prime' and our silence to opponents.' Contend for the faith..Or the
Cycle will not move. A moribund agenda will emerge, and all people much will loose'
Visual premise of extreme stipulation of emergency declaration.
1. Soldiers on ground in real time in the state being represented.
2. Unaffordable Wage
3. Wages presence indicates War Acts in 24 response.
4. Loss of life cannot be interfered with, only observed.
5. Caution at and as Post to remind one need deploy declaration as executive order and gather haste to governance. Governance is governors post.
6. Turn the war positive in retrieve of life in doors as much as actual document and improve.
7. Federal violations of code meaning we cannot create life in language only by asserted commands.
Removal of Post has no observation above?
You wished God upon another's certificate as pork?
The agency of volume created by poet
Resigned post is record in failures sums
Greed and impotent arrogance
Threat is well aware of its hiding
Convict it as yourself follow conveigniently
to the slaves prison as slave for
slaves wage is feed
If God orders... nature with
a touch will make everything
in the world become... equal
I took up the call
The command was made
Placed the receiver down
Hardened my resolve
Steadying my shivering nerves
I picked up the gun
Shot at the innocent man
He fell with a thud
Blood spurted from his chest
With my descent into Hell
I fell from Grace
My gut swiftly swirled
Downwards the twilight zone
A throne of skin and bone spoke
"Thine sin you must atone."
Toto knew the Girl understood that
their beaucoup would be trimmed of it's fat
They could use straw and tin
and the shoes she was in
but for SURE they were losing the cat..!
The command is to write -
but every day you wake up
saying to yourself:
"I can't write, I was never taught,
my fingers are illiterate appendages
of a cheap Japanese laptop,
my mind is too oddly shaped
it has no dustcover
its pages have wormholes
holes that smaller worms fall through."
Every day the same old thing,
and a plasma screen mocks you,
mocks your open slack mouth,
your dull eyes,
the slow grinding inertia of every thought.
The command is insistent,
it prods the soft belly of your cringing ego,
demands a pound of flabby words
be made flesh,
and so, you tap random keys listlessly
until another string of consciousness
unwinds itself
into a last line,
that if not memorable,
yet at least will not live long enough
to disgrace you.
On a bench in the sun,
With the river close by,
I can get something done
(Or at least I can try).
For out here I unwind
As I soak up the rays
And I’m likely to find
Something I can appraise.
With my pencil in hand
And a notebook page, blank,
I fulfill the command,
With the river to thank,
That I jot down a poem
(Which is almost complete).
Now it’s time to head home;
There’s some popcorn to eat.
Lost within
the writing
Found
with each retelling
The universe
at my command
Time and space
—unveiling
(Dreamsleep: January, 2024)
COMMAND
What I say, you treat as a real order
Not a suggestion nor a request
No delaying nor any quibble
A task that one must obey
Not a choice, but duty
Complete it in time
I’ll be watching
Your response
So start
Now!
I know I told you to step forward
You know you'd acted Today's Coward,
Your right cheek scratching then moved backwards,
For my command plain bleak eyes upwards,
Still,you long to be Green Scene's Steward,
Come service with plans to drive onward...
You seem not he who'd keep smiles broad
With piled-high unwashed plates worse than sword
To say: you'll deliver is like fraud:
Who wants you a patient in some ward?
For jobs that won't one give minutes' rest
Failing to qualify just the best...
‘Your wish is my command’
he said it just as any woman in love
might want to hear
He said it like he was evening some score
somehow leveling the playing field
but said like he might really mean it some day
He said it like he was divulging some deep secret
that might otherwise never see the light of day
yet here was one step closer to a goal or destination
He said it loud and deliberate
so I could not misinterpret
or pretend I did not hear
‘Your wish is my command’, he said
so I’d know that somewhere below the surface
he meant it to some degree
I knew he liked the gallantry of it
and might even want it be true
so I took the gift as it drifted onto shore
Lone and castaway, a care package of sorts
I didn’t know what I might do with it
but I gathered it under my wing and
offered it a home within my heart
AP: 3rd place 2022
My Command to Poetry Soup:
Over Forty Thousand The Group:
Keep your records of my poems
Between ‘Motiveless’ and ‘With-Whims’;
In your cherishing software lodge,
Destroyers surface you just dodge…
Let them – yes – in secret files stay,
The Heavens and Earth to pass away.
Each had occurred in sharp flashes
And out of weightless mind dashes!
Verse-retrieving mind poorly shines,
Trust me, I’d call up but few lines;
So Angering and Demonic
Weakness Fighting The Harmonic
Thus, if lose I do a copy
You and I, rashly, The Sloppy;
The same: my Uploaded Short Stories,
Now forty-three, Number hurries!
No longer command: Make The Promise
Not A Halved Single shall I miss.
Her newly formed body
Appeared above ground
She rose to look around
No words spoken
But eyes wide open
To gather in all sound
...chains
Such a horrible racket
As man plodded earth
Dragging obligation
From the moment of birth
Mother's voice commanding
Harsh barks to child
Nothing sweet, meek or mild
Cycles of sorrow
Blustering forth in the 'marrow
To link innocence to defile
...commands
Vibrations of discord
Reverb bouncing off walls
The art of melody, lost
To the Great White Halls
...of thunder
Written by Trudy Schrader on 05-10-2022
when you make mistakes
there is always "command z"
alas, not in life
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