I'm twisted, starved, and revoltingly stunted,
blacksheeped, scape-goated, and litter-runted.
That's the brimstone pit and nightmare waste
from which emerged my delectable taste.
I have no interest in straightened teeth.
Don't show me a stone. I want what's underneath,
flat and squirming with plenty of legs,
miniscule monsters, hatched from eggs.
Your giggling voice that says, "You're weird"
is attached to brains once commandeered
by representatives of a safe community
unsettled by my unique pathology,
who told you wrongly, you'd never be found
writhing deliriously on forsaken ground,
where you and me would intertwine,
not far from the highway sign -
isn't it divine?
There is room for doubt
with or without consequences
Punishment or judgment
heaven or hell
An unconditional truth
no deviation
anchored in principles
Convenience or the opinions of others
Adapting and societal norms
Mutual understanding and respect
The question of divinity
an intensive search
REFLECTED WATERS
distinguish
paridisal
feelings
knowing
perceiving
speculative
portions
subsumed
in
unpredejudiced
awareness
seeing
with
visionary
interchangeable
coherence
from
achievements
wholeness
to anticipate
learned
linguistic
language
evolved
externalities
convince
deviation
&
aberration
with
genuine
feelings
The system reports temporal governance has improved
stability is now assumed
territory has been optimized
boundaries no longer require revision
decisions move through approved channels
desire is no longer a variable
people comply within expected ranges
habits were adjusted quietly
uncertainty reduced until it disappeared
time was reorganized
not divided, only arranged
even weather responds within acceptable deviation
wind behaves correctly
silence is logged as normal output
no interruptions recorded
a system check runs
nothing unusual detected
another check follows
still nothing
the system repeats the check
because repetition confirms stability
no further variables remain
only checking continues
status remains stable
there is nothing left to correct
and still the system continues monitoring
because monitoring has no end condition
the emperor is not recorded as collapsed
collapse is not a valid category!
Cover for necro-mania, and other horrors, worked by epstein, deviation
From accountability; apperition like; I
Seem to see? In violence both near and
Far..into a mud, it seems is set the bar'
Most info, screams of only war, yet the
Shrieks were real, and i guess still are.?
From those sacrificial, innocent ones..I
Wonder? Who among us really sleeps now
Well.? And feels affected.' Yet time itself; has yet to tell? Tranches of info to
Light stay coy? The torrid tomes of pred o
Viles..Dear girls and boys' much abuse and
Slaughter.' Yet who wields the knife? Or guns? Or bombs..? How i curse this blight.'
Some light..I crave, yet darkness reigns..'
As ex-royals and current dignitaries, play table top
Games.'
I have seen and heard of love in another land!
A voice that made me and my mind feel at peace
So I must make my words come from my heart and lips by taking a stand!
The Destiny is a foreshadowing of our hearts coming to each other in a physical piece
True love begins with communication and continues with communication!
Our minds are floating with thoughts of alignment and deviation!
Even when there is confusion with our words, the love will not fall to miscommunication!
It will only be strengthened though our open faith and appreciation!
The past made us both appreciate one another through deep compassion and love
The future is not said but the present is creating it in a forever bliss!
No one can make us give the other a shove!
The present will not make our future lives become a miss
The taste of honey is only sweet when it is organic and pure
It is organic and pure which is made by the medicine to our heart as a cure!
A fixture of grief,
anchored where memory splits.
The quest unfolds in fog—
no path, just pulses
of unease mimicking direction.
Every thought incurs penalty.
Fear taxes breath.
Dread rewrites the map
before the journey begins.
An unseen impact
knocks the axis off center—
consciousness spirals,
fractured, repeating.
Focus becomes a casualty.
There are voices,
but they speak only in sanctions.
No comment.
No deviation.
No witness.
Even breath becomes strategic—
withheld, rationed,
used to mask retreat.
I speak in silence now.
Each word I don't say
becomes another wound
I have to learn to live around.
In the whirlwind of time, who said that seconds are decreed?
That your steps must align with others’ concrete success indeed,
That arrival is an unyielding mandate, and deviation a defect?
You see them climbing the spires of their creation without regret.
In iron and glass they carve their legacy, while you remain silent,
A shadow frozen in the ruins of dreams that never grew vibrant,
With hands weary from the burden of unfinished things,
You whisper to life's algorithm: "Recalculate, don't leave me behind!"
But time is no engineer, nor a gentle, loving architect,
It's just the scaffold beneath your feet, moving only when you dare to fly.
Did the monolith mourn it didn’t rise with the first light?
Or did the river curse its flow for not sculpting the world in a single moment?
You’re not behind; you’re just a separate code unfolding,
A unique sequence evolving and flying at its own rhythm,
In a story never meant to synchronize,
But to follow its own course, unchained by time and space.
The Sticklers are rule-followers; they do seventeen weekly have-tos.
There is no room for flexibility, or deviation from their parents’ teachings.
Have to go to church, read the Bible, pray daily, on their knees.
Have to go to grandma’s every Sunday, bring a pot roast, wash the dishes.
Have to read the Bible with grandma, aloud, as she corrects you.
There are so many have-to’s, there is no time to play, laugh, or sing.
Many of the Sticklers have gone crazy, are in mental institutions.
There are minimal have-to’s in their distant cousin, the Hippydippy’s lives.
They enjoy their weekends; doing what they want when they want.
Freedom to dance, sing, cartoon, paint, knit, crochet, color, fish or golf.
They know about the Bible, but they are not scheduled to it.
Grandma knows they love her, they see her when it is convenient.
She’s usually on a cruise anyway.
None of the Hippydippys have ever gone crazy.
He took her there most days
They rowed out to his small yacht
They sat and drank take away lattes
She just cried a lot….
She was so full of sadness
Tormented by relentless fear
So very troubled
Her mind clouded and unclear
She liked it on the river
It gave momentary relief
Life seemed a little clearer
Though be it only brief
She saw them in the distance
Hoped they would come her way
Unbelievably without deviation
They were there without delay
Swimming underneath the small yacht
In water so clear and blue
So close they were touchable
He cuddled her and said,
“This is just for you”
The dolphins swam away….again without deviation
A direct path into the open water
She knew in her heart those majestic creatures
Had sought her…
The emotions they evoked in her
Mere words cannot describe
With heart and mind now smiling
She sipped her latte
And just cried….
I keep stepping outside myself
This deviation necessary
I always wanted to be someone else
I'm growing a second skin
Still me underneath but I've been cloaked in rage and grief
These scales are heavy
But I'll carry them
The world weighed on me before but nothing like the iron shackles this life has now become
Unbearable
Still I carry on
I don't want to I have to this will always be the way the story goes watching my chapters unfold in front of me without even lifting my pen
I'll nod in agreement, I've willfully resigned
Settling for that second skin
It covers well and hides the empty
The smiles and laughs that are no longer mine but forced to find their way to my face
I'll put on a show for you
I'll sit beside myself in disbelief shaking the head of this shadow I've become
Watching the scales grow thicker
And you won't notice a thing
A Path Unknowable
every thought we harbour
every choice we make
can lead us on a journey
we’re not sure we should take
for roads in life are mostly
unknowing of journey’s end
and the merest deviation
another fork or bend
is always waiting somewhere
as surely as the day
an impasse an uncertainty
a questioning of the way
though the pathways that we’re taking
may seem that they are fated
each decision is a conscious one
not randomly created
know the road you travel
has been walked upon before
by others who have passaged
seen what lies behind each door
wherever you may journey
to whatever you aspire
keep close all those who know your heart
safe haven when you tire
Wazza
Passion with the inept
Virtuous to respect
All wish to expect
As I walk to the valley of my own creation
A mist forms to hide my deviation
I frolic to my expectations
And expect the best sensations
I will myself to feel wanting
I stay still to feel I'm haunting
Can you see me? Can you hear me?
My suffering I'm flaunting
The journey of life is daunting.
My ego's appetite wanting
Created to love and be loved
Where love in it's purest is sacrificial above all things
Love seeks not its own interest but the interest of the other
But a deviation from the original design is the state of our state and the state of our mind
Everyone mindfully minding their business but business isn't possible without buyers and the sellers.
Men and women are now lovers of themselves
As self is now the predominant denominator in every form of relationship that we seek.
But this wasn't the plan
For God so loved the world that those in the world may love
But when we love we love with expectations and sometimes expectations hurt.
We hurt and make hurt
We mare, destroy, pull-down till everyone down feels hurt.
But this wasn't the plan
In love with the world he gave son and the sun to light the world for the good and the bad
For love isn't complete without
Patience, truthfulness and kindness
And when love hurts, it forgives
For love was the original design
We were made to love and be loved.
For this was our original design
Sand
Miracle Man
3/18/2024
Sand appears to hotfoot through an hourglass,
unrelentingly depleting our precious time.
Without discernible deviation and no impasse,
plays no favorites betwixt aged and prime.
Life is not a “brief candle.” it is a splendid
torch that I want to make burn d torch as brightly
as possible before handing it on to future generations.
“Bernard Shaw”
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