Long Milking Poems

Oh Hanna. 

The sinking of the USS Stefan wood. 

Oh Hanna 
I want to take you to Montana. 
We can camp out by the springs we will go and see the way oil is founding...

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I was raised in one of those white nationalist churches,
passing itself off as a Christian evangelical Bible church,
where "evangelical" meant fundamental
and "fundamental" meant we did not interpret scripture
but accepted it as God's literal trans-historical Word
of...

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I’m not saying my father hated the English, God forbid. If he were still alive, he’d hate to hear me say that. He’d correct me right away and say he didn’t hate the English. Truth...

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Sacred Time Seminary's Professor of Economics
began presenting CoReGenesis Theory:

Business as Usual economists
would say that milking machines
and bulldozers,
all technology
and information systems
have enriched time,
creating new goods and services
that did not exist in prior times.

On an ecologically profound...

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The value of her name is fading,
Oh mother Ghana, mother of beauty and richness.
Every sector in her government is creating hopelessness.
A place attained from the sweat of passed souls within nationalism and confidence,
Today has appeared...

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Betsy is “just a cow” most would say. She’s dark rust, almost auburn in color, with large white patches all over her body and especially on her rather long, nosey face. She has deep, soft...

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Oh Mondseer: the muck cob brie muenster saga..., 

crafted when Wallace and Gromit 
returned from their trip to the moon, 
which I can prov-olone huck curd 
(within Trump con feta ration) – 
as cheesy poem...

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Breathless panting as I sat waiting my abusive ex husband to return from his big job with Ciro Gargano dynamite gas cans golf balls with draino two hand grenades finally dust pans used to pour...

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"Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting." Robert Frost 


 
"Bees Under Milk Wood : A Spell"



Spider Web glistens wet 
in the spoilt lies of...

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Memories Of Youth And Nature, Were A True Blast
In collaboration with Robert Lindley

Beautiful dawn a Nature walk would do one good
Across the flower filled pond, into the woods
With hearty breakfast, soul could be truly blessed
This...

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"The Great Forgotten Language" 

In the forest
Love shows
the way
spreading seeds

strange creatures
come forth
into the clearing 
of a known self

some run away
spooked as if 
the bare reflection 
shows their undressed soul

confronting, 
are the peculiar
ghosts risen, speaking 
like...

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Gott, oh mächtig, Trump iz on the warpath again!

Glad for birth write to express views
aware cunning linguists 
will apply figurative screws  
in an effort at blatant mud slinging ruse
exercised courtesy mail in ballots, 
or...

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When participating in a HealthCare Future Search,
you are invited
to explore a personal timeline
as well as a global timeline
of critical healthcare events
in your past,
present,
and future.

HealthCare personal and political
and nurture-investment learning
begins early and ubiquitously
for new born and...

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Memories Of Youth And Nature, Were A True Blast,
In collaboration with Riabi Dziri, Besma

Beautiful dawn a Nature walk would do one good
Across the flower filled pond, into the woods
With hearty breakfast, soul could be truly...

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Hello, I come to speak of peace,
The kind which saves the mind from deviation.
To give life to dead instincts,
For the lost throne belonging to black men is found.
Let the whole world come to hear this...

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I'm actively hoping
Christian communities,
all good-faith communalites,
are SacredLove already immunized
and committed
and totally invested
in favor of restoring profound Energy
and Nutritional Grace
Democracy.

I hope we are already becoming
Good Shepherd CoMessiahs
Bodhisattva Warriors
and EcoTherapeutic Yogis
within our own natural-spiritual SacredEnergy development
already SecularLeft...

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She was a dairymaid, oh so sweet;
many a year ago.
Her figure was trim, her hair was neat,
with ringlets tied up in a bow.
And many a farmer would leave his plough,
the turkeys and chickens, and even...

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"Photographs escort us to hidden recesses of memory and bring before us rare moments lost in time"... By Poet

Flitting through the pages of an old album,
Picked up from an abandoned dusty box, 
I saw a...

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You bite that apple!
Give it a go, put on a show
There is no shame
You said shame is a sham
And clams are happy
Do they hop or skip?
Tripping along the seafloor
Playing hopscotch
Eating numbers like cookies
Chips Ahoy!
Sleeve after...

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After the rain, 
the Sun will rise again
we have been in darkness since they arrived
in their caravan of dreams with empty promises of change, 
and constructive untruths, with which they tricked us to abandon our...

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   "I have seen and heard the vibrancy of dreams, 
and the way 
of the crossings-through the ills 
and through the barriered things."

A fleeting spark that perceives, 
I, have seen...

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Heard my grandchildren the other day,
“We’re bored to death” is all they could say,
There just isn’t anything for us to do.
That got me to thinking about how,
the troubles that these youngsters have now,
would go away...

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Fruitful days are filling up the piles of treasure mesuring the misogyny it shouldn't be a topic of forgery while waiting for break outs throwing correction direction of stereotyping the tipicallity of capabilities in abilities...

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Fruitful days are filling up the piles of treasure mesuring the misogyny it shouldn't be a topic of forgery while waiting for break outs throwing correction direction of stereotyping the tipicallity of capabilities in abilities...

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(Pre The Epiphany)

THE WORLD VERSION:

Twelve Drummers Drumming.
Eleven Pipers Piping. 
Ten Lords A-Leaping.
Nine Ladies Dancing.
Eight Maids A-milking.
Seven Swans A-swimming.
Six Geese A-laying.
Five Golden Rings.
Four Calling Birds.
Three French Hens. 
Two Turtle Doves. 
AND
The Partridge in the Pear Tree.

THE...

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