Free forms in movement
Dept of transit
Overhauled movement of poor life during isolation
Isolation instructions still in assembled bills as job requirements
Obstructions are final. Finite mathematics stills speech and range of motion
Counter intuitive approach to data modeled in hmis privacy act census
I'm a normal function inside of integral limit with derivative market extortion
On vista bus from Ventura government building towards thousand oaks the absence of New York life is laws
If = x
If I cannot
X can
Poor man's publishing Company
#cagovernor #realdonaldtrump #asmirwin #mikeytaylor #repbrownley #tonybiasotti #aoc #nypd #lapdhq #nytimes
Fake the caress of a loving hand
Felt the pain of lust on demand
Fingertips touch much more than skin
Awaken thoughts purely filled with sin
Love no longer is an action
Words committed too soon after redaction
Tainted by deceitful ball&chain true interaction
Overhauled hype in our eyes distraction
Endless display of desire on screen never one main attraction
Too little hope in our hearts satisfaction
Getting ahead by thumbs likes and
reactions
Never living up to high Def photo shop
Only to let ur self-esteem drop
Hard to believe any real emotion
When one click causes a derail from devotion
Written: February 26, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whilst an ivory sky, my mast ignite.
As tidal waves flicker in sparks that gleam.
Igneous scarlet pyres still blazing night.
The amber sparks hover in swooping sight.
Amid thunder, boisterous shivers scream.
Whilst an ivory sky, my mast ignite.
The limestone chunks resemble carved calcite.
With furnace flames in phosphorous agleam.
Igneous scarlet pyres still blazing night.
As I gaze upward, pitch and haze relight.
Steadfast, I plunge where evil spirits teem
Whilst an ivory sky, my mast ignite.
Rancid stench of the city stinks of blight.
Above lagoons, as muddy smog or steam.
Igneous scarlet pyres still blazing night.
A phoenix amidst the fire, set alight.
overhauled from ashen sidle, wings' dream
Whilst an ivory sky, my mast ignite.
Igneous scarlet pyres still blazing night.
I know, I grow old, I grow old….
As silver threads peek in my head.
The flush on radiant cheeks wanes,
And a pallid tint creeps unseen.
Fading years have robbed the ardour,
And a rigid sobriety sinks and settles.
With EXPENSIVE health gadgets
I cannot bring back my lost youth.
I hear the howl of autumn winds,
That come to shake off the yellowing leaves.
Dragging tired feet through pavements
I try in vain to keep pace with the young.
Mind grows agitated and distressed
As the bones beneath the skin go brittle.
I drag myself with BRUISE in mind and body
Like a rusted machine never overhauled.
The soul grows anxious and annoyed,
With no CONVINCING solutions to track.......!
There is a tumult in my silence
Like the undercurrents of calm waters.
Through miles on dreary miles of gloom
That stretch out before the eyes, endless,
Where can I find a quiet haven
To lower my burden and rest awhile?
Got a jury questionnaire –
They really have some nerve!
I’ve paid my dues; I’m not so young
And I don’t wanna serve!
There must be people willing
Or who haven’t once been called.
Perhaps it’s time the system
Was completely overhauled.
Let all of us who’ve served before
Be evermore exempt,
Or else they’ll have to deal with
Someone totally verklempt!*
*flustered, nervous, overwhelmed (Yiddish)
When people accuse me
Of being a man of unstable mind,
I do not get offended—
I do not mind!
My mind Is constantly
Growing, developing,
Evolving, changing…
Why should I
Stand by everything
I said yesterday?
What I said yesterday
Was true of yesterday
But, why should it remain
The same today?
Everything changes with time—
Situations change, Knowledge increases,
Perceptions get overhauled,
The mind gets transformed!
Change is an ongoing process of life—
It is a Process of evolution!
If I do not change, I do not evolve!
Should I surrender myself to stagnation
Just to hear that I have
A stable mind?
I was honest yesterday
I am honest to myself today—
I have not hypothecated my integrity
To anyone, or, anything…
If my intentions are right…
If I have no hidden agenda…
If I change my mind
To accommodate an evolved thought,
What is wrong with that?
I am comfortable with myself!
I am absolutely at peace with myself!
It does not bother me
If people think of me
As someone
With an unstable mind!
a million minds meandering
wondering whether wise
can continue in chaos
till onus openly overhauled
then doubt duly dissipates
fear fizzles finally
eventually everything eases
finding beautiful baseline balance.
The roads not taken is another one missed opportunity,
Wich in return is you driving with out meaning,
Hanging your head causing friction,
Slowing you're motion,
Eventually coming to a rolling stop,
And will lead to self destruction,
Leaving you bound & broken,
On a lonely road to no where
If you just keep making your left and your rights
There's sure to be gas station to help fix the fight
What ever it maybe called
Overhauled, Rejuvenated,
now if you would of stayed straight ahead
you would of wished to of, follow your map
And take all those missed opportunitys called
The Roads Not Taken
The flames flickered and licked
We-men, women and infants
Unknowingly,
They licked up potential
They licked up dreams
They licked up futures
They innocently licked up hopes
Fires cremated failures and frustrations
Like bulldozers they overhauled and mauled little pockets
Of joys and tears of ghetto residents
Here, they smoked potential
Here, they smoked greatness
Here, they smoked innocence
Things that we'd never known, or will ever ever know!
We boomers, as our generation’s called,
have lived through two seasons, considered great,
during which our values were overhauled --
The Summer of Love and Autumn of Hate.
Both brought us together and gave us hope.
In the face of injustice, both were staged --
the first, a celebration with free dope,
the other a tragedy that enraged.
We were innocent in ‘Sixty-Seven;
we saw world violence and were appalled.
Our attitudes changed by Nine-Eleven;
we sought revenge, though we were shocked and galled.
While Winter of War passes, may we find
The Spring of Renewal and peace of mind.
We boomers, as our generation’s called,
have lived through two seasons, considered great,
during which our values were overhauled --
The Summer of Love and Autumn of Hate.
Both brought us together and gave us hope.
In the face of injustice, both were staged --
the first, a celebration with free dope,
the other a tragedy that enraged.
We were innocent in ‘Sixty-Seven;
we saw world violence and were appalled.
Our attitudes changed by Nine-Eleven;
we sought revenge, though we were shocked and galled.
While Winter of War passes, may we find
The Spring of Renewal and peace of mind.
Was absolutely healthy, fit and fine
With Lifestyle of jogging, gym, laugh & be merry
One day ... alarm bell rang at odd time
Angiography led to Heart’s Bypass Surgery
Situation critical, Heart went under scalpel
Reports, X-rays, Veins cut, Grafts inserted
Operation successful, Health went on to propel
Heart overhauled, new lease of life injected
Am absolutely healthy, fit and fine
With Lifestyle of diet discipline and stress no more
Every day.... alarm bell rings in time
For Yoga, Mind-Body-Soul now peaceful, blissful to core
Operated, for Others Life's countdown has begun
Rejuvenated, to me Era of "By-Pass" to "Surpass" has begun
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Sonnet Rhyme scheme - abab cdcd efef gg
HM in Members Contest - How will you Stand by Drakes Eszes
By Hitendra Mehta
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Tears dripped from my eyes
Fear gripped my tender hope
Death has stinged my lovely bole
And sealed it in a forgotten hole.
I looked with clear curiosity ;
shadow hooked me with cruel hostility
And my hope zoomed into a misty city
As the dark room swallowed my love without pity.
Flasbacks of our past peering overhauled my screen
And melodies of our former concert ringed in my spirit,
I could not help so i had to screem
As i see my precious person thrown into a pit.
Oh death; cruel shadow
You have put fear into reality
By your sting that spits vanity
You have burnt my golden stick to ashes.
Millions of years beneath the earth;
Only in my dreams he zooms
Just as a bubble he floats and flares
Because ashes has turn to ashes.
She’s taken the driving test so many times
That the trainer allowed her a license
She’s already had several small accidents
And now she feels she’s in a crisis
She bought a new car, shiny and black
That she brought in to show us today
However she won’t drive it during the week
She’ll only drive in on a Sunday
She tells her long stories with tears in her eyes
And I loathe at the hour she arrives
Cause she wont stop pretending it’s somebody’s fault
And our colleague just shrugs with a sigh.
“She shouldn’t be driving“, they say while she’s gone
“I know“, I agree with concern,
“But tell that to her“, I say with a grin.
“You’re right, the girl just doesn’t learn“.
The last that I heard she ran off of the road
As she came to the off-ramp and cornered
And now she needs everything all overhauled
And she’s scared that they’ll give her a loner.
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