Arcane dearly loved institution really does make my blood boil
Clearly gravy train devotion yet still we don’t won't embroil
Confirm detest term “the firm” just makes me squirm and recoil
Handshakes from rakes on the take.. insane destitution we toil
Incest selection we suggest a contest like may be an election?
They josh oh golly gosh this tosh the Constitution didn't foil
Nation's fascination with wally Charles the Turd's coronation
Herd with this absurd have a word off their trolley veneration
No defection as the loyals' protection ensure all the spoils
Girth of their worth pilfered from serf & turf since birth oils
Even Randy Andy or scrappy snappy Harry can’t seem to soil
Kibosh posh arseholes nepotistic trolls on the Monarchy dole
End this whole sick rigmarole..Republic for each prole the goal
No parry views & news.. carry on as "Happy as Larry" crappy Royals
Allowance is issued by allegiance
Descent
De scenting the grain
Defection from account
The man above watches
As open journal
His story is carved
And reared
Nearer grown abundant
Recital of vow and order
un adhered
Ends actions statements
A fold is created
Company is kept seperate
Sometimes our best intentions
miss the impossible target-perfection
Sometimes our best efforts
leave us hopeless and contemplating defection
Sometimes our goal
of being everything to everybody
misses the target so that we feel
we give very little to anybody
Oftentimes we must stop
to refuel our bodies and our minds
so that when we are engaged in lifting up
we do not leave ourselves behind
Sometimes our best intentions
must be reexamined through the lens of gratitude
Sometimes our best efforts
must be weighed on the scales of self-affirming latitude
Sometimes we must pause
to just give ourselves and others grace
so that we empower our vision
to redefine the target for this race
Our world is but a dot
Yet, everyone has each slot
Though speck in the galaxy
God put His rectifying apostasy.
The universe is but a wonder
That the mind cannot ponder
His work is marvelously great
No one put asunder nor fret.
No wonder its colored green
For all life enbank there when
The purpose of His first defection
Is to live and manifest in His creation.
The purpose was late hindered
A malevolent spirit put asundered
Every life was put in chaosness
One rose from the dead and fought all of these.
The blank page
Has no meaning
By itself per see
You put black ink
Insulting, it rages them
Soon, you put more ink
The more eyes fuming
The ink travel its own path
Put more ink with its color
As more sketches resemble
A picture, an art defection
The eyes stop raging
Now, hail appreciation
The blank pages turn into beauty
And has now meaning.
I dreamt upon
a blessed night
that suddenly
the world went
right
man turned from darkness
back toward Light –
I dreamt upon a blessed night
that evil had finally been
defeated – the Devil, sorely
retreated
for man had rejected darkness
in favor of Light –
and all of God's angels, rejoicing
reached down into the earth-grave
plucking from ashen depth all
those long deceived slave
as men, covered in soot
were lovingly lifted back into
heaven's healing, cleansing embrace:
At last!~ having turned from The Fallen
Prince's Snake-charmer Face –
for man had chosen Light
over Serpent-damnation...
Then, my bedside alarm went
off! – rudely awakening me from my
pleasantly dreamy-soft: “Life,”
the Buzzy said; “is not always
fair, yet bad reality often a survivable
Night-mare; close one eye, to let the
other see only what's fair – Maybe
next election, enough will try
good defection...and instead of
just an outright steal, votes tabulated
will be only those real....
Has life ever been cheaper,
When doubting God grows steeper?
Love without justice perverts.
Justice sans morals subverts.
Despite the evil scheming,
God's spiritual streaming.
Doubt your doubts about the Lord.
Confessing them brings reward.
His past acts need reflection.
Remembrance foils defection.
His Providence revealing,
God's spiritual streaming.
So, wait for the end of it-
His faithfulness will acquit.
Remember, He's powerful,
Gathering up baskets full,
After thousands done feeding,
God's spiritual streaming.
Let the fools think they have won,
When God has only begun.
The wicked need to think twice,
Boasting about our demise.
Trusting Him is redeeming,
God's spiritual streaming.
When all has been said and done,
The Warrior-God, His Son,
Fulfills the Davidic reign,
And godliness is great gain.
All bow the knee esteeming,
God's spiritual streaming.
An ingenious man from Blackheath
Who rode his luck from up and beneath
Once had been a boy scout
Never once left home without
But when he checked found a hole in the sheath
He though had prepared for bad luck
Velvet sheets beckoned a tuck
Retrieved some bicycle lube
While he sat on the tube
Pouched his wet lips for a repair suck
Because of sensual addiction
And to enjoy coming friction
Chose from puncture repair kit
To mend the small condom split
Afraid of his lover’s eviction
To circumvent premature detection
Not to eschew passionate affection
He put the patch on the inside
Small draw back for delight
No chance now for any defection
But when crescendo’s climax had ceased
And his virile manhood had eased
Emery powdered paper
Had turned into a scraper
Unsurprisingly he was not too pleased
20th May 2020
The quiet Squam casting its reflection
Of fire red mountains, beneath blue sky;
Stirring fervor for nature's connection.
Remembering our silent affection,
Embracing, gazing, a loon’s distant cry,
The quiet Squam casting its reflection.
On the trail, is no thought of defection,
Leading us above to where our hearts sigh,
Stirring fervor for nature's connection.
To its beauty we yield in subjection,
Capturing forever in the heart's eye
The quiet Squam casting its reflection.
Cold, unquelled souls, with reddening complexion,
Feel warmth, an inside glow, that cannot die;
Stirring fervor for nature's connection.
Leaving always leads to strong objection;
New Hampshire should never hear a good-bye.
The quiet Squam casting its reflection,
Stirring fervor for nature's connection.
The hordes of defection await
Obscurity indulges their silence
Abruptly, I am lost within my own recollection
Feverishly trying other hearts
My brain seizes its choler
It bathes in the solace of grief
Disgruntled, I await ambition
Deciphering each notion, towards alienation
The separated seconds loathe me
I fall between my somber thoughts
Deserted, my will vexes me
As I tumble into oblivion
I am at a loss of words and will--
This silence drifts into my mind
I conjure a pool of empathy
[Pretending that I am no different]
My demons bathe under my skin
For, my heart is their tyrant--
I am persecuted by my vacant will
With-held from my embittered perception...
i'm wooven within the hallway
colored with brightest grey
whispers blind a fairy tale
a real melting
i've blamed forward the disgrace
showing the latest breath
trailing the lamp of defection
a dealting stream
my lowest scream is faint
i've chalked the lining
collected the straws that color
a reflected dye
i will change levid black
cause is faceless song
like a bald broken dynasty
a sitting shade
your arrogance will surely shine
yet i will ripple
inside a impoper exquiste fantasy
a infinte dull
waited for a tiny influence
a precise timed valor
one that will climb weakness
a challenageing ray
pledge in a new suicide
in the garden watch
melting away the grey ash
a force mortality
i'm feeling the crowds mass
dropping to upper colorz
like a cicle of pedals
a saying fate
so what child is soiled
we all live encircled
in a tiny speck of white
a light bubble
a salted finality
a feasted color which i want
Come
Stand by me
I arise
Cause my Consolation
Sub-duct negatives in redemption
We become the Smile purity ...
Come ...
Squeeze me silently tightly
So we doubt the gravity
The place becomes sanity
The second counting evaporates lightly
Come to me ...
Assure no surrealistic emotion
In slow motion applying affection
Acknowledging a true deep connection.
No defection, thought deletion
Love creation ...
Election Day Footles
Non-Voters
Passive
Asses
Unenrolled Voters
Selection
Defection
Last ditch pitch
Stand out
Hand out
Crumpled and pitched
Pamphlet
Spam-let
3/3/2016
Shards of listening sunflowers, she's trapped in the gardens reflection,
contaminated shattered seedlings was not the topiary's intention,
inside the stamen, her severed particles, causing an afflicted defection,
scraps of glass and plastic lies beneath the roots, depleting the petals complexion,
the world divides into pieces from this stagnant pollution infection.
Date Written: February 23, 2016
For The Contest, Fragment of Life, Sponsor, Broken Wings
Black Men,
I see your power.
And, although sometimes well disguised,
and sometimes compromised,
buried between paler thighs,
scrutinized, by paler eyes...
I see your strength.
And, I see the wisdom in your eyes,
as a prize.
And, I hear what's being said about you,
but I don't believe the lies,
from him, her, them...
Not even the lies,
that you believe and tell about yourself.
Black Men,
I see your worth.
Even when, your flexion lacks direction,
ending in defection,
and upon closer inspection,
there is no connection...
to be found.
But, there's no desire to clown.
No desire to
BEAT DOWN,
PUSH DOWN,
or DRAG YOU DOWN!
NEVER THAT!
I see your POWER,
your STRENGTH,
and your WORTH...
And, BLACK MEN...
I see your CROWN.
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