Long Logically Poems

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Free Will Hath Limitations

(following on figurative heals 
   sans, l'amour, 
i.e.,and that bastard conception 
   of life, liberty, and the
pursuit by George - Marshall ling, Grant 
   ting, and Bing Frank.)

Expectant motherhood generates aurorean
sonogram x-ray zooms 
   bringing developed fetus 
   healthily shimmering viz, 
   quasi hologram seen
glowing halo, inducing 
   jubilant kickstarter lil bean, 
administering capitalone 

   earthlinked joyful lyft, 
   natural pheromone readying cerulean
tommorrows, venerated ecstacy doth gleam
zinging bounteous 
   dizzying feelings hormones houseclean
jackanapes leviathon nestling 
   pinterestinly interocean
reaching terminus vista 

   xing zee birth canal mien
doctor readies Fallopian tube cutting 
   helping jiggle little nymphean
possibly ranking... 
   as future topnotch venerated Olympian 
fast forward to joyful loving neuro
   logically plain resplendent teen
knee weeny tiny 

   vaunted expanding zing 
   baby dripping Vasoline
like goo fully gesticulating 
   happy jolly newborn.
Which miracle whipped 
   purely by chance
given reason to the most orthodox 
   to sing and dance,

sans said singular biological 
   phenomenon does enhance
freshly minted parents, 
   or the mommas 
   and papas genetic 
   copy wrought grants
who already passed along 
   to a brood of offspring
 
   gushing with excitement 
   akin to fire hydrants
spewing forth fountain head 
   treasuring such Kodak moment, 
   cuz such instance
and subsequent tender 
   wonderful blessed 
   Instamatic reverent cherished instants

will zip at greased lightening
   via speeding hurled lance
sing remembrance of things past 
   during twilight years, 
   an eye blink those yesterdays, 
   when my troubles seemed so far away
   and upon being centenarian, 
   doddering fogie gripping hold,

   hugging intensely, indubitably decrying
   how quickly of 
   decades long ex pants
   didst elapse, when tendering
   to a coliciky, finicky, 
   inscrutably lemony snickety offspring
   wishing infant would grow up already, 
   now onset of autonomy 

   Das Agean sea sunned 
   father or mother 
   hood doth rants
at father time, he doth access
   without a word an excel lent 
   power point demonstration 
   with near vertical line brevity
   of how mortality slants.


Premium Member Earth

Two people cannot see the same way but they can teach
One another their ways. One gives up body and soul
To follow the flow of the historical woman until
He can close his eyes and glide through mountains effortlessly.
He gives up earth and he gives up air, he gives up being touched
But he forgets to give up desiring to be touched. Then
One day the sun is hot or the moon is full, he desires
Uncontrollably to be touched and he flies smack
Into the mountain and never comes out the other side.

You live to prepare yourself to die. You leave behind
A wreck of strewn projects or a few icy pearls.
Incredibly you leave your voice behind saying
Over and over again the same words. You leave
Memories of yourself behind as pictures in the heads
Of people who wish you weren't dead or hadn't been alive.
They wash the pictorial body, shave it, comb your hair
The way they liked it best, cut a little here, add a little there,
Then easily, easily and kindly forget you.

Two hundred years later the wall crumbled and burned.
The ashes were spread logically across the plain,
A mathematical formula could describe the distribution.
The ashes were like seeds and from them
A thousand higher walls were made. It was lovely
To see those walls breathing imperceptibly
Shifting their glances so slowly as to go unnoticed
Behaving as if they were dead.

If I breathe, they breathe. If they are ash, so am I.
Having tried to separate myself and failed
I donate my body to science. The wall needs me
To breathe and hear. It gets my ears and lungs.
Trees need me to cast their night spells.
Are they asleep or are they dancing
A primitive fertility dance in the forest?
I choose trees because they can watch everything
From the distance of longevity.
To them I donate my soul.

Everything should be made of earth.
Earthen walls, earthen homes, earthen bodies, earthen sex.
Nothing should be made of air. Earth should inhale
And exhale air. Air should whip and caress earth.
Air should dry it out and crumble it. Earth.
Water should wet it and dissolve it. Earth.
What is the function of fire? Fire makes earth permanent
And then fire makes earth into air. Water
Makes earth into mud. Mud makes earth into homes.
Homes make earth into walls. Walls make the earth breathe.
Breathing makes the earth crumble. Crumbling
Makes the earth seed.
Form: Verse

Dreams.......

winds chill the bones and rattle the teeth of the those who dare stand in the cold, 
when there's a shield blocking the chills, the cold seeps in; drowning me in a unbearable
quilt of 
frigid cold. i can't escape. i try and i can't, i look for the one i see in my dreams when
i sleep,and the one who appears in front of my eyes when i'm awake. 
 his touch is warm and thrilling, his voice is like satin against the bare skin of a
child. his hair is twisted silk, blond; shades of wheat that glimmer the sun's rays when
the sun itself rains down upon him. it's him that appears to me when i sleep and again
when i wake, the feeling of being watched is haunting; i feel as i'm trapped most days,
with only my dreamer to talk to. only sometimes, i say. 
 some say that one who talks to themselves is mildly crazy or just insane; that they should be locked
up someplace where dreams are choking nightmares and warmth is sucked dry into chilling
winds. turning bones into icicles and teeth into rattlers. that's what i see in the eyes
and many faces of the people that pass me by, and see that i'm speaking to no one that
they see, but, maybe, some one that i see. 

 and someone i see is tall, strong, and exotic. hair; different shades of wheat, eyes;
shocking and sad, and his voice, satin --soothing, soft like silk against skin. caressing
it. this is who i see, it's who i speak to when i'm alone, and to whom i sing to. he is
light and nothing bad can happen in his presence. he makes anyone feel special and
intoxicates them with his luscious and enthralling scent. 
Mm .....pine and lilac; rose and freesia, lovely. it's a scent that should be bottled and
sold, but also, not. it's his scent, and his alone. 

 he seems like a dream, but at the same time, he seems real. maybe, he's an apparition of
a person in the past and came to me seeking help, seems to be. whatever he is; i can't
wait to see him again, tonight i will sleep. and i will see him reach out to me and hold
me in his arms. singing softly in my ear. then i will wake, and he will be in front of my 
lids again. smiling a white toothed grin; both infectious and intoxicating; and reach for me. 
 
 to most, he's a day dream. a figure that shows me what i want, but, it's hard to think
logically about him. he's mine....my mate in a way. yes, my mate.

Who Is Logical

(Colino)
so you say you have no memory 
of the last day you were friends with me 
no link to help remembering 
your brain can't give you anything 

conclusion, you are clueless 
your memory is useless 
and you can't give your own story 
nor pick out bits most surely 

so you can offer nothing 
your brain don't bring a thing 
unaware or emptied 
or with a truth which you're hiding 

yet when I talk of incidents 
the memories I'm recalling 
you claim they never happened 
and from my delusion they are spawning 

you have no argument or alternative 
just denial and diversion 
questioning my sanity 
YET YOU HAVEN'T YOUR OWN VERSION 

But this is my one story,
never one before it, 
a mystery for 14 years 
when I was never talking 

and in that time you stayed confused 
as do all with me removed 
you paint the scene I WAS SENSELESS 
no logic to include

it passed the cause away from you 
handing out bits others chew 
you need them to think as you do 
to be believed as now I'm refused 

I tell them you manipulate 
but I just get ignored 
and even though they read this mate 
it won't impact their thoughts 

(Colino, Dom, Kev)
you 3 have no story 
just denial and diversion 
and people just ignore me 
judgement through perversion 

logically you're logicless 
but all think that that is me 
ignorance is really bliss 
as is stupidity 

people near or close to you 
are stood to close to see  
whilst everyone around the world 
see differently with ease 

you have no memory or logic 
and claim delusion is with me 
to those not involved it's obvious 
you're just gaslighting me 

*for Colino, Dom, Kev, and all the people believing them blindly judging me, 
a person to whom you never speak yet judge assuredly.
they gaslight and manipulate, getting you as they got me 
don't tell me my logic's gone, where is theirs, it's them you all believe 
and Susan isn't validation, she knows as much as you, 
like you she seeks from them, and like you don't come to me. 

How rude to call me a lying delude 
it's my life, and you weren't there 
reality for me but just a tale to you 

no response needed

you judge me without me involved 
I've no influence on what resolves
from now on I AM NOT INVOLVED 
with contamination they evolve
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Mom's Economics 840

Listen my children 
and you shall hear
of the midnight ride
speeding greed will steer.

Just as our cooperative economy
is fueled by gratitude,
our competitive WinLose economy
is fueled by greed.

Other parallel points of contrast
ecologically and logically follow
in their own sweet and sour time.

Cooperative industry,
business
tribes
governments
systems and networks
enjoy organically limited slow-growth
in comparison
to capitalism and elitism and egotism
fast-growth
toward insufficiency of Earth's carrying capacity,
and Yang-dominant WinLose evolutionary enculturation
of Yang-Yin divisive survival stories--
Mom and Dad never could get along--
secularly supplanting sacred
Yin/Yang health/wealth thrival stories
of slow Paradise
revolving seasonally appropriate deep-ecological development,
listening to both redevelopment Left
and reverting-reverse-time decompositional analysis Right
of restoring nutritional-slow
and toxic-fast
health trends.

Further,
and don't fall asleep yet,
we're just getting to the best part,
slow grown cooperatives toward abundance
are dominated by matriarchal/patriarchal integrity stories
more than fast-paced
overshooting patriarchal Westerns with shot gun dissonance,
the chaos of believing and teaching
that justice is what comes out of the end of a rifle association,
incommensurability of values
across economically healthy corporations
     as also ecologically wealthy organic-flowing incorporations,
both born of FatherSun
     deductive LeftBrain enlightenment
and MotherEarth
     inductive RightBrain polyphonic feelings
          of color and sound
          music and dance
               in octave-fractal
               slow-growth marches
                    toward salt marshes
                         predicting oceans
                         of YangLight
                         slow-breeding Yin-tides of revolution.

Matriarchy,
where what is embedded deepest
is also ethically and aesthetically highest
                                                     richest
                                                          healthiest.

Listen my children 
and you shall hear
of the midnight ride
speeding greed will *****.

And everyone died alone unhappily ever after
as before.


Premium Member Harvesting Thanksgiving

I have been finishing up Sacred Economics during this time of fall harvest and thanksgiving. I have enjoyed this read especially as I add in vocabulary and analogy from my background in Permaculture Design and Community Development.

Eisenstein's economics of a more beautiful world 
follows the ecologic of health, 
like a richly embryonic egg-yolk 
pulls its developmental compost 
from environmentally vulnerable, 
ubiquitously transparent, 
gooey natural norms.

So, this gives me cause for regenerative thanksgiving, 
in this Earth-optimizing time 
of Co-Falling and Co-Arising Harvest.

One illustration, my additions in brackets: 

"The money [health] system we have today 
is the manifestation of the scarcity mentality 
that has dominated our civilization 
[and threatened our wilderness Commons] 
for centuries. 

When that mentality changes, 
the money [health] system will change 
to embody a new [eco]consciousness. 

In our current [competitively unhealthy] money system, 
it is mathematically 
[and logically]
impossible for more than a minority of people 
[and species] 
to live in abundance, 
because the money [health and beauty] creation process 
maintains 
[yet also struggles with] 
systemic [economic and political power] scarcity. 

One man's prosperity 
is another man's poverty."

0-sum, win/lose 
health v pathology 
me v you
mind v body
yang v yin 
man v woman
1 v 0
full v empty
transcendent v immanent
commodity v humanity
competitive
all v nothing value system

Ignoring Earth's ecologic 
of cooperative empowering health care, 
like a richly embryonic egg-yolk Commons 
pulling in developmental compost 
from environmentally vulnerable, 
ubiquitously transparent, 
gooey win/win enlightened
bicamerally intelligent norms

Individual ego-static Left
languaged passions
AND 
individuating eco-ecstatic Right
languished co-pleasures
like thanksgiving
and joy
and boundless compassion
for others
as for ourselves
loving others
as health-wealthily co-invested
as win/win possible
in this TaoCommons Time
in this sacred 
vulnerable
and transparent
EarthEnvironment

Doing our win/win best
to sing and speak 
wealth's passionate wisdom
while dancing and acting 
health's co-pleasuring rhythm.

God Alone Plan and Mysterious Ways

Why do such travesties happen and
continue to occur

To living human being people such as us

As loss , loneliness , misery and pain 

For what exact purpose and who's gain

If God was and is truly meant to love us
above all other's in his name 

Well maybe that was always his intention
and end game from the very outset 

As seeing God is the sole creator of each 
and everything the beginning and the end

God also therefore wished we knew this 
emotion fully as well

What exactly is was like to experience
and feel something as deep and personal

As painful , miserable as loneliness and loss  

Because as God is the one and only Creator

The only thing in fact God could not not
would be ever possible to be able to do

Was ever experience or know what it
was or would be like to be in love 

To know what it was like meet and find
the 1 your 1 and only true love

Made especially and created just for you
to love and make and give your life purpose
and meaning 

And perhaps one day get to become 
and discover what it may feel like to
be the creator of a new life oneself 

And as to the reason why maybe he
created us in order to watch vicariously
and voyeuristically and over us

In order to both entertain keep and
provide him company and companionship

As God maybe in some ways seeks solace
in witnessing how we come to terms
and deal with it 

As God hypothetically logically
and thinking along theoretically line's 

Only God in fact will ever really and 
actually truly knows 

What it must feel like to be all alone

Knowing also full well there is and will 
never ever be or is

That certain someone out there laying
in wait hopefully one day made or created especially just for you 

But what the hell exactly do I know or
right do I have to comment on or
speak of about love

As i myself have as yet to find or meet
my one and only true love 

And therefore the reason why I place
nor have no faith or belief in love but
much more rather in

Loss , loneliness, misery , pain and grief

And why it is I constantly choose to
question and search and seek for my 
own individual personal answers 

As to what exactly is God's plan 

And why God works in such mysterious ways

The Rabbit -Part One-

(literary nonsense)
the winter was so long ago, burying the world in snow
rabbits hop where rabbits go, here i sit to-night
and the day i hath long dreaded which hath left me much beheaded
worn my sanity unthreaded as i sought the sun's warm light
said the rabbit, hopping past, to my thoughtless face aghast, "lanterns are a great delight."

but my mind hath never shown me, nor my pinched, weak thoughts have grown me 
anything which should beknown me: that a rabbit never talks
of a lantern, never falters in his steps to break the halters of the sacrifice on alter (of the wolf who nightly stalks)
just to speak to one who sulks under skies my soul doth mock

have you ever seen a rabbit come to break his daily habit and commence to speak as if it mother nature's natural norm?
and if by chance he mentions 'lantern' just to break your flurried pattern just to knock you off your rocker whilst you dream away a storm
does it leave you cold or warm to have a rabbit which informs?

if you haven't it is likely that you would not see me brightly
but you'd find me quite unsightly as most men find the plain insane
if you have i think you'd find it quite amusing for behind it
there's a joke that doesn't mind it, for jokes minding is inane
still i laugh at my poor brain for losing every bit of sane (to see a rabbit speak is strange)

and if i could see it logically; if possible biologically, i might function neurologically, but remember, brain twas dead
and the sky was growing longer, growing longer, ever grayer, and my mind was never stronger for i lacked a bit of bread
and the rabbit's words he said, hopping circles in my head

still it was that long i pondered, of a rabbit, yes i wondered, speaking to me while he wandered of a lantern bringing joy
and so to a barn i stumbled while the distant thunder rumbled and i felt so very humbled, being, a moment,a rabbit's toy
and i, my words, employed, to ask a lantern from a boy

it was kind of him to light it, and i journeyed back, excited, to the place where i was seated, seated in the dark of night
and there, i sat and waited with my trembling breath bated, and my mind was still sedated with the numbing lack of light
there i sat waiting in the night to catch the rabbit in my sight
© Ben Dover  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Song of The Mafiosa President Gone Wild

(* WARNING * adult content and Humor and for the Christians: Consult your Strong's concordance for the word: "MAMMON" )
________________


Call Me WHAT?!*°
not to alarm- "Injun" . . . "Nigga" . . . "Spic"
mumbles no harm

Just get your £µckin' money off my neck!

Skinny dis'n' bi|ch'nz¹
be' spittin' un'a moon
hidin' from bull-whip'nz
now "Lawz" bull-shiz'n too

Butt: Je zuz . . .
donne you He zuz
way'z da pac
geet deez £µçkin' moneys off ma back

and your heaven
same as you
split in two
black and white so
what's a brown to do

come Hell Orleans high-water
save us from the purgatory cue

AFTERLIFES A BEACH®

aint no money there
dem streets be stuck'um gold
seems a little cold
but nothing good is rare
no need to keep a neash
so keep my faith "on speck" . . . 

THAT'S RICH!

Just get your £µckin' money off my neck

(Oh FEED ME Washin' twinny-beans
COME HELL'S HIGH HOLY HOOPS
da' be gov'mint shack'um queens
snackin' on yo' peasent dupes).

and now dat o' yo' dolla's to colostomers has trucked
how you beez No-meri'ca, now dat you be £µcked
Can you say:

"Build That £µckin' Wall, Don Presidenté Daffy Duck"!

and all the good bright teachers said
America wont last
now will someone pull this £µcking wall street banker out my ass

and by the £µckin' way,
you patchouli farting punk,
get those £µckin' money-bags
out my £µckin' trunk!


__________

Notes:

The Republican Party has become the Plutocratic Party representing the approbation of money/power as the fundamental, ideal state; its systematic usurpation of American democracy is the real threat to our Liberty and not "Communism"!

Donald Trump failed his office by: EXCEEDING HIS CONSTITUTIONAL POWERS and now must received THE SAME LEGAL TREATMENT as any other citizen!

FIX CAPITALISM NOW OR WE MARXISTS' AND THE PEOPLE'S REVOLUTION WILL!

[ https: prospect.org/economy/rise-of-neo-feudalism/ ] ______________ 

1. If "The Brothers" call themselves "Dogs", then it follows logically to refer to their females as "Bi|chez". If you "strike" their words, you diminish their community, forcing them to waste precious energy creating other ways to say the same thing so . . .
Form: Didactic

Word Assurance

Word in words logically scraping speech
Word of words unlock hardened heart as priest preach
Word by word's exposition gain ground as sounds beseech
Word for word's daring compliment duly change to teach

Divided in divisions attentively awaiting wide open gate
Divide to divide confusion aiming to get hearts bait
Divide by dividing queries lured into an unending debate
Divide for divisions to be silent and no longer dictate

Born to burn boredom caressing darkness
Born to burn darkness' borne without prior awareness
Born of birth beyond scientific's cleverness
Born new birth- a magic yet amazing craziness

Light in fireworks beeping loosely creativity
Light lighting calm minds out of captivity
Light enlighten strangers' feet cum selectivity
Light lightening end afar when gold kisses negativity

Cool in cooler calming hotness foaming to burn tongues
Cool by cooler good at its usage correcting wrongs
Cool to cooling feet climbing life's ladder on open rungs
Cool for cool voices singing solemnly new hope songs

Freeze in frozen minds embracing caution to trap temptations
Freeze by free birds not returning for mothers' invitations
Freeze up freeman growing wings beyond limitations
Freeze out free Israelites wandering around manipulations

Hear tell ears of peace to pieces arrogance and ego
Hear from air blowing hot and cold to choose where to go
Hear about seer ranting of rest to all workers by will sow
Hear of spear piercing others cum eon's toast fondling woe

Tear apart tears inner eyes soaked in burning delight
Tear pairing code leading grace prospects into fright
Tear cheers growing solid cheeks hurting plight
Tear wears inviting comfort to blind eyes seeing flight

Full of fools open to wide gate of sulphur's flame burning spring
Full of rules that guides legs against commands of the mighty King
Full of truth to energize night of unknown songs morning sing
Full of tools rectifying faulty connections disobedience bring

Sent to sentence saint into everlasting  cell never dreamed
Sent to sentence joy overflow through grace highly esteemed
Sent to sense need for change to shame end as deemed
Sent to see how blissful saints live having been redeemed
Form: Rhyme

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