THE GANGSTER DISCIPLE TREATY FREE LARRY HOOVER MOVEMENT BEGAN TO SOUND OFF THROUGHOUT THE PRISON SYSTEMS IN THE MIDWEST INCLUDING THE WOMANS PRISON IN WISCONSIN HOUSING REPEAT SEVERE VIOLENT OFFENDERS AS DEATHROW INMATES PREPARIING FOR PARDONS EARLY RELEASES OR COMMUTED SENTENCES AS TRUMP COMMUTED FOUNDER LARRY HOOVER FEDERAL MULTIPLE LIFE PRISON COMMUTED TO 200 YEARS FOR THE MURDERS THIS SENT THE PRISON SYSTEM INTO A FRENZY FOR CORRUPTION GANG RELATED LAW ENFORCEMENT PROVIDING RIOT GEAR TO GANG LEADERS IN ORDER TO STAND OFF WITH FBI AGENTS KILLING INFORMANTS I AM REMINDED OF MY WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI JUNK SICK COPS WORKING SECURITY FOR GANGS IMAGINE HOW TERRORISTS MIMIC AMERICAN GANGS A SYSTEM THAT TEACHES FORIEGNERS HOW TO HARM AMERICANS THROUGH ORGANIZED CRIME CORRUPTION I WILL NEVER FEAR 1 HOOVER LANE WEARING A BADGE WORKING FOR GANG LEADERS INCLUDING SEVERE REPEAT VIOLENT OFFENDERS UCAN2 CORRUPTION AT ITS FINEST ACTUALLY REPRESENTING THE GANGSTER DISCIPLES OPENING A PASSAGEWAY FOR TERRORISTS RATHER WW1 WW11 WW111 ORGANIZED CORRUPTION CONTROLLING TERROISM ON AMERICAN SOIL GROWTH AND DEVELOPMENT OF ABUSE OF POWER
Together, with or within proximity to people or a person. Community, unity. The invisible thread that attaches from you to me. Wherever you may be, recently I’m manifesting that place is next to me. Where our forever dialogue exchanged releases a type of ecstasy. Our bodies attach like magnets whose attraction unapologetically fuses our souls together into one spirits sleeve. Forever sewing a line of cosmic communication between soul notes, that play tunes of elevation on a bar everlasting. A connection of love chords created outside a wish or prayer. No human power can birth this communion; soul-traction love affair. Joyful flutes sound off when one another draws near. Ten strings play hypnotic music. A melodic heavenly tune our bond conceives when the holy unity of two flesh bodies connecting destined to meet. Pulled from his rib I am his missing connecting piece. Designed to link everything, creating our Unity.
May I Hold Your Hands
David J Walker
May I hold your hands
Your soft and smooth skin
Soothed my brow and
helped me breathe again
We were so young
And free back then
May I hold your hands
As we walk the paths of life
As man and loving wife
And laugh through daily strife
Then kneel to pray with hands in hands
And talk in coded words
That only we could understand
May I hold your hands
As chirping children claim
Our time for their demands
And grow like trees
In search of clouds
That fit their lofty plans
And mark the passing days
A lifetime spans
May I hold your hands
As the ages change the pages
Of our mortal plans
And clocks sound off the chimes
In fulgor times
That our horizon scans
As we alter all the dreams
That were once our plans
And face the fading twilight
Walking hands in hands
under this southern sky we all should adore
for this land has never burned with any war.
our life has always been one that is free
free from dictatorship...free from tyranny.
under the southern cross we show our true pride
from the desert plains to beyond the great divide.
under the blazing sun we play, work, sweat and toil
say "she`ll be right" when life spins with great turmoil.
our way is to add O or IE to many shorten words
to outsiders it must sound off beat...so absurd.
our friends we call every bad word under the sun
no offence taken...they know it`s only a bit of fun.
" `ken oath, he`s a drongo" a true blue knows what that means
from Tassie to the Territory...and everywhere in between.
coooee cobber...fair dinkin` your such a galah
we shouted out from our beat up holden car.
whether at a BBQ or down by the sea
it's an ice cold tinny for you...and for me.
our flag is one flown on flag poles oh so high
one we should respect...show our one true pride.
so let's all come together and be as one
in this land...under...the southern sun.
............
*to all the Aussies have a bonza day on Jan 26...and have a coldie for me
Into The Fire I Go to wield Jewels Out The Winepress
from Drudges to Diadems,
from Valleys of Darkness to Bethlehem
Upright, Scintillating like Shem in Jerusalem
Into Ethers of Brahma where the Sun Shines
Sublime, these Crowns and Feathers of Light
Blazing Dross out the Matrix to forge the Empyrean
and bring Heaven to Earth, to Illuminate like Atlanteans
Ever-Onward, Steadfast in Flight
to Smash the Veil and Crush the Crux of Night,
So Glorious, Star Bound I enter the Ethereal Stage
Vanquishing Ignorance while I play Ukelele
Golden Harps sound off as I Breach realms beyond the Wild Pendulum
Into The Fire I Go, The Eternal Serum
It's colder than cold but the sun's shining brightly
Which makes a whole lot of difference to me
Must have been born on a bright sunny day
To expect that's how each day should be
Unfortunately we must take the bad with the good
Helps us to appreciate the good even more
Gotta be happy with the skin that we're in
Cuz I don't know of any trade-in store
What if you were to loose the job that you've had
For years then it suddenly becomes obsolete
Sure a good reason to sound off just a bit
Need security to make life complete
But really no one else can promise you the moon
You determine how your life will work out
Choices that you make is totally yours
And strive to persevere throughout
So the bottom line as I see it are really quite simple
Less complicated is the name of life's game
Don't complicate life more than necessary
Soon be back to from where you came
Yowling and howling, snarling and snapping
Came in through a window when my husband was napping
It sounded like a sound off, I was sure a cat would be dead.
My own cat bounced in moments later, his fur stand-up red.
What is going on out there? I asked, for now I heard low growls.
The cats were ready to fight, as snappish as Turkish towels.
Fred dove head-first under the bed and stayed until it was over.
Rolling his eyes about it was my St Bernard named Rover.
Step side to side
Sway to our song
Your heart is the lyrics
My soul the instrumental
Hold my hand the way Jesus held the nails
Step side to side
Nerves waltz to love
No music is needed
When sacrifice becomes a verb
I'll hold you like the space between us is trying to escape
Step side to side
A crowded ball room that only sees us
Watching movies with the sound off
Empty hands have the fullest hearts
The cup of my rhythmic soul runneth over
And we'll hold one another like crying hearts pressed against the pages of love
p.s. don't forget to kiss me under the waterfall chandeliers...
Focus on a plot, may you like a lot,
in this beginning so you introduce-
at it's middle you did deduce-
an end- is what you have, too produce-
Testing this out; you dial out any number,
ask! is Perry - Slap Happy News there with you?
polite voice on that other end said; wrong #
try again, this is Tate, for heaven sake...
a little later; you 'call again' 2nd time
same voice; have you misdialed again-
you laugh, as you sound off; 'Right then!
I'm sorry to have bothered you' again...
'Last dial' to that # same voice, now announce
you had to know-asking, have I mispronounced
I'm Slap Happy News your reporter- I truly be!
hee hee " has any calls come-in for me "
silence- a pause, on his other end, awhile...
then right on! - you did produce - a Smile.
well folks all this is 'a PRANK 'also known as...
conversation, frustration, aggravation
A quiet storm made its way
Feelings strewn and blown astray
Enamored in one another were we
In turns a desperation to be free
Lost in each other, thus
A soft-focused portrait of us
Harsh and cold are the fates
As rage tears and alienates
Torn souls rarely mend
Hence a star-crossed waning end
A thousand miles starts with a single step
A journey’s unfathomable depth
All that glitters does not glow
Rare a shimmering prismed rainbow
Unlike what we’ve been told
Stark emptiness, ne’er a pot of gold
We lift up, step back
The evident lacuna, what we lack,
You’ll be there, I’ll be here,
When abstract dream pop-ups appear
When red flags sound off alarms,
When under a rainbow with open arms!
You’ll find us not as illusions
Real enough, peaceful resolutions
When the rain subsides
A misty rainbow abides
Beneath we’ll pass
Free from sadness alas
With no quandary or doubt
It feels good to reach out
Your sunshine smile wide to ears
Loosens all ingrained fears
Reflections of you form
Together we’ll quiet the storm
At a rainbows end
I hear myself talking to the radio;
the shock-jock stops pushing words
into my vehicle,
a pause, as if he is listening.
I don’t get paid for my opinions
my place is to be a listener, a non-combatant,
just ears and a vast echoing space between them.
The dead-air threatens to kill its audience.
The broadcaster voice gets louder as his mouth
moves closer to the microphone.
He knows! He heard my counter-arguments
and had no reply!
Then the radio signal is lost,
static nothing but blaring static,
I don’t turn the sound off
now the car has to listen only to me
as I carry on a heated conversation
inside my talking head.
Eight men
One objective
Countouts holds the combat
In penalty for 2 minutes
Disqualification holds the
Combatants for 4 minutes
( they gotta get it in)
Mid way through four men
Will team for one score
That team to them divide
( they say it's the same song
Just the harmony is different)
Two teams no DQ
Two teams no countout
Team Challenge
Last two men
Winner takes all
Bankday Brawl
Trophy Series
Tally up the scores.
We are in a doctor’s waiting room.
A child’s cell phone is out; the sounds drive me batty.
Botta Bing Botta Bing
Ding Sing Shing Wing Ding
How does this child’s parent stand it?
I wish the child’s parent would put a stop to it.
I do not say a word, knowing people the way I do.
I wonder which adult is the parent.
The woman on her left or the man on her right.
They do not seem to hear the
Botta Bign Botta Bing Ding Sing Shing Wing Ding.
A door opens. A woman comes out.
She yells at the child “I told you to turn that sound off!”
Aha, her mother is here and I am glad.
The end of a friendship
I sat in the kitchen of the flat mother had left me,
trying to write a poem, when heard my former friend
coming up the stairs, I had locked the kitchen door
didn´t want them in or talk to them anymore.
They knocked on the door, let us in Joe, we know
you are in there, I didn´t answer.
When the knock stopped, they stood in the communal
hallway, cursing me, calling me and much more.
Once I had been one of them drifting through life
that has no purpose other than sitting in cafes drinking beer
wasting time with idle talk.
The kitchen was my den, my interest was writing.
I had lost my train of thoughts and switched on the TV,
It was in black and white, turned the sound off watched
people on a stage being funny and people laughing
with the sound off, it looked ridiculous.
I fell asleep but woke up early, in the Nord the night
is short in spring.
I made a cheese sandwich, drank coffee, grateful that
I was not like my former friends.
early morning rain,
sound off insane...
only rain,
a resounding parade,
frothing with power
for a few hours —
brought back the cold.
bleak sticks and gray stones,
wind and leafless trees again
colorless sky.
i may have to trade,
once again,
thin shirt for warmer weather —
a sweatshirt or sweater.
no snowmen
smudging my window,
only twirling wet prints
of birds, foxes, umbrellas.
12/14/2020
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