If tomorrow does not occur
The world would be quite a mess.
Some would dart and some would linger
If tomorrow does not occur.
With people rushing hither and thither
One and all would lose their heads.
If tomorrow does not occur
The world would be quite a mess.
Smiles occur... so big and bright
From poems written...when we write
So keep fulfilling...our hearts delight
Morning, day, evening...or night
That shipwreck will provoke
consequently the breaking of the old vessels.
Those vessels alike those of the old galleons
would contain coins that we use daily
but that are already moldy, worn
and therefore no longer valid.
The vessels that contain
rotten coins in the form of:
debates, tangent stories,
contradictions, and unresolved disputes
should be broken.
And from the remains of the old vessels
from the depths of your self,
the quietness,
the abandonment.
the stillness,
and a new inner peace
will emerge to the surface
in the form of sparkling bubbles.
Shipwreck, the praise of the day's last drink... or both?
Stir Up Crowd That Does Occur
Up some people Trump seems to stir;
Like a certain group that does occur,
That around,
Has found;
In our sides has been leaving big burr.
Jim Horn
Know Death Does Occur
What we know is death does occur,
When we lived life good and pure,
Each moment loved,
Then were shoved.
By Trump, who we had to endure.
Jim Horn
The smudge of the relationship can occur,
It can be so insecure,
Like through the door,
You hear but can't see,
You want to see inside but you're out.
?Communication so vague,
? depth of one so translucent , other so obscure,
?there is so much to figure, ensure...
?
? YOU are free , but a drizzle goes down your spine,
?It all goes so well, it's your own will to stay.
?
Point here,
?If relation goes so well,
?you're so happy and then..
What if...
?Butterflies vary,
?Complements become sturdy,
?You feel you're bugging,
? You feel you're undefying.... ?
Too much sweetness, not enough...
? So much we think through,
?
?Existence of the thoughts are our choice,
? so is the relationships voice,
?
Things go hardy....
------
But you are hugging
Over thinking, relation so pure,
?not to all expectations, but secure,
? Misunderstandings can be conquered,
? With love and care.
?
?
Racial Slur Did Occur
We heard that Trump said a racial slur;
Which right before our eyes did occur;
Intimidating;
Humiliating;
Yet, what it was never knew for sure.
Jim Horn
Math is really stressing
It isn’t such a blessing
But what if this was happening?
Aunt Love broke up
With Uncle Caring, yup.
My best friend Motivation
Got a crush on Hallucination.
And I heard that Ms. Persuasion Bell
Married Mr. Laziness T. Ell
What if my neighbor Boredom
Was heading out to somewhere foreign?
My friend named Inspiration Hazy
Just used a car, isn’t that crazy!
And Love and Hate
Now best friends, but a little late.
But it was all a dream, not off the hook
I awoke sleeping on my math book!
Jehovah God isn't responsible for bad things that happen, Satan is.
Satan is responsible for the cruelty and suffering, the cause of it all is entirely his.
When wicked things happen, some people say that it's God's will.
But Satan is the one responsible when people lie, steal and kill.
Satan is the one to blame for the bad things that have occurred.
Songs were once clean but now some are littered with the F word.
When people hurt other people and commit other crimes, Satan is to blame.
When people say that these things are God's will, it's not true and it's a shame.
Cruelty and suffering are things that Jehovah God abhors.
The world needs God more now than it ever has before.
Obama says not to fear the future but I guarantee things will continue to get worse.
Satan will cause people to do even more evil, because of him, the world is cursed.
But when Jesus returns, suffering and cruelty will cease.
If you turn to God, you will gain eternal life and peace.
I don't know
Which way is home,
Yesterday is kept in store
By memory alone,
The inaudible screams
The motionless violence,
They bounce in the emptiness
Of utter silence,
Truth and happiness oscillate
But are not of the same sort,
I'm lost between connotations
But i seem to come up short
On the perceptions of reality,
There's no such thing as rewind
But it feels a never ending torque
Fueled by vague echoes of anguish
Cherished recollections
That race in a loop, intertwined,
Locked into the inevitable
Memories fade to a blur
Everything bleeds into what now is
Did yesterdays mistakes occur?
He stood on such bandy legs, shaking,
I thought he would fall. His cigarette
Puffing like the grey white clouds above.
A lone heron flies high and jagged
Like the tips of the mountains
That brush this clouded sky, and surround the sea
Where our ship skims the shore with its
Light, a star rising from the blue black depths:
Can we wait until the sun sets?
Am I so alone,
So far beneath Her feet,
As I make myself out to be?
I'm always so cold
So complimented anger
For six years running
These men have come to hear
The speech of broken hearts
I've waited so many years
To occur the words She said
"When it's al said and done
you'll be the only one
to ever take my heart from me
But right now I need some time
away from all this drama
that you claim yourself to be"
They're always at my side
Never far nor gone away
I love them for that
But Her will is so obscene
And His mind is so pristine
Occurring being fearful the winter
while the mid-night minutes
by anew wake of dawn —
the snow-alike rain been falling
and the Cathedral is hollow-ringer
sudden gave off fifth pealing of belling
and hour done announce by dawn turn,
over the semi vision bout darkness
and through my window glass
the winter I listening
giving a sound in torment whimper —
and the illusion, the dreamy
and memories apart
occupying sort, my mind
the childhood and romance left moment
the school ever by a placenta winter
ever as passions area
the fountain and inspiration
a meant-up dynamic thy precious
the beauty–the greatly there
moments in life
and by the end, I wrote
the winter I’d listened
in respond and convert ill temper
over hard fury whimpering sound
in landing in torment . . .
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