EarthMother sacred psalms
invoke reconstructive words
and loving deeds
With Her Sun of universal peace
and unitarian justice
for all living
forgiving CoCreation,
and not Just Us
Who are anything but Other
co-evolving meaning
within one truly sacred HolySpirit,
from biophilic womb
through necrophilic tomb
back to womb
sacredly again repurposing
secular mind embodied
static states of short-term health
relonging for ecstatic stirring
long-term wealth
Wherein even straight White male bodies
systemically appreciate more sustainable peaks
of win/win experience
unflat
unstraight
unwhite
unmale
empowering RightBrain wealthy
enlightening minds
Capable of meaningful passion
for purposeful
and cost-effective
religious passion
invoking sacred exhaled words
Inhaling intelligence
unstraight
unwhite
ecowomanist
warm wombing ways
Restoring Earth's natural justice
through nonviolently peaking communication
Invoking sacred speak experience memories
communing green
and blue
and even nonreactive red
Peace
Mind embodied purposeful
mental/spiritual
biophilic passions
conjoining healthcare
natural spirited
soulful timeless fashions.
Diamonds on the soles of her shoes brushed the intricate parquet
Carmel was swept off her feet to the clanging tunes of Flamencos
A pink flamingo swapping kisses and castanets high above the floor
Gypsy tattoos on her ankles swirled like Derwish’s ecstatic devotion
Cocaine eyes wide open on her man but tonight femme was fatal
Titanic brazier squeezed her bosom into fake contours ready for the kill
Thanks to her doctor her uplifting bottom implants softened the crush
Champagne flute shards mixed with botox as she lost her superior stand
Wiped seductive smiles off her face and mingled lip stick with blood
When she woke up from her dream it was not her gigolo lover who
Spoke softly through the daze of morphine and anaesthetic delirium
‘Ma'am I am sorry that I could not save the ink adorning your tootsie
And I will have to refer you to the guy from the plastic department
For you boobies’ reconstructive surgery to recover their natural shape
But your stilettos are out of this world ‘though they scraped a few bones
Do not worry unduly though because the footloose jewels cover my bill’
19th May 2019
George suffered a traumatic left ankle injury,
When he was only two and a half years old,
But many a complex reconstructive surgery,
Meant that he could achieve his ambitions.
His parents are both competitive Ironmen,
And his brother represented Great Britain,
In both the triathlon and duathlon, no swim,
Also mum has run ten London marathons.
One of his aims in competing in Rio grand,
Was to inspire the crowd and mass public,
To “go out and do anything they want to do,”
Because drive is inbuilt thru his childhood.
He did his first triathlon in 2009, and at 17,
Won a bronze in 2013 at the London Worlds,
And in Rio, he finished seventh in his event,
PT4, proving a true sportsman for team GB.
The government and its people stay on antagonistic sides
but what stimulates the rulers’ infidelity to patriotism
can easily be bought by any, over the counter.
They are desperately in need
of sailors to guide through the storm
yet for some reasons,
nurture a belief of so called anointed but empty vessels.
Structural human developments
siphoned by leadership’s exhaust pipes,
desecrating humanity’s sanctuary
for corruption to sell in wholesale.
The public treasury flows down
non-stop even bypassing its bladder,
as materialism and the quest for good life
break all of conscience’s administrative protocols.
Survival instincts undergo inflation
for civilization to suffer a recession
to this end, unity’s objections are overruled
by Nepotism and favouritism.
Social growth is blocked
and always in need of foreign catheter.
A direct current links poverty to the mindset and way of life,
giving a clear evidence of an economy
in desperate need of reconstructive surgery.
After a marriage, birth of son, a small business loan, a breakdown, a divorce, five EOD
stays, fifteen councilors, six doctors, hundreds of court ordered chemical concoctions,
hundreds of dumpsters, and a major facial reconstructive surgery later, my life began again
when I married you, had our first daughter, got an apology from the malpracticing Doctors,
graduated with two degrees, became a teacher, had three more beautiful kids, became an
officer of the Masonic lodge, and became our districts Teacher of the Year.
My face, I wished it had been a bit more chiseled
With high cheek bones and even a deeper cleft chin
But it isn’t, so I must learn then to be happy
With me and all the skin I happen to be in
Some things can just never ever be changed
Or, rather today, they shouldn’t be changed just because they can
Like skin color, body mass and higher cheek bones
And even that one that turns a woman to a man
I respect everyone’s right to their own choices
But my choice is to believe we deal with what we get
Learn to embrace the body we were born with
Before we become the person we never met
Emotional reconstructive surgery
Tiny cuts deep within
Bending, breaking, reforming
The pain is hard to deal with
But the outcome will be worth it
No feeling, like nerves gone dead
All numb with a sense of loss
Breathing labored, and winded
Razors couldn’t cut this deep
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