peter thiel almost un-real, wants to link
His workers, to the buzzing field.'
The pc-screen; mind.' This
Matter is so cruelly
Obscene.!
Ebony the luxurious familiar of the old hag Hilda Hee
Laid across the spell book and refused to relinquish it to me
I had stolen away at midnight to grab up that missive too
Ebony laid around as heavy as he could be, which made me pretty blue
Kid Dirt
If there was ever a you and me
If there was ever a parting of the sea
I surely would have let you down
Though the moments were to die for
When I'd hold you in my arms
And look into the creature that you are
In a World full of hatred and fear
Full of wrong beliefs and right someone else's wants
We breathe in unison and exhale our poison through the air
In a World full of hatred
It is all a mystery of what and a fortress of why
We share our thoughts but they get cast aside
Faces I needed to be
In the late end of a summer dream
I just couldn't get it right I just couldn't think
Now I feel washed up on a beach
All the things that mattered seem extinct
All the promises to myself were just instinct
All the love we had
Distant heartbeat of God's knowing
I can't find my soul
It never came back from those two odd ball heroine freaks
I gave away my soul for I danced with illusion
I gave away my chance to have a place to come home to
The place some call religion others call a mystic prison
I just want to look in you eyes and ignore the wants and needs
That we call survival
And the crawl of the poor and the dirty windows of tomorrow
I don’t steal you see, but in this dream I was stealing plants and flowers,
outta peoples yards, I had been doin it for hours.
Well I got caught, doing what I don’t, you see,
to prison, they were going to send me.
When I woke up, that dream was so surreal,
thats all I could think about or feel.
So I went to God, ask him if He would explain,
as He began, my heart was filled with pain.
He said son, those beautiful flowers and arrangements belonged to me,
by the words that you did not speak you see.
His words are seeds, when planted in the heart, they grow,
into beautiful flowers and arrangements, wouldn’t you know.
I found myself guilty, I felt it crush my heart,
I was stealing from God, instead of doing my part.
How these dreams can be so real,
how they can truly make you feel.
I am now planting His seeds, for His Gardens where ever I go,
the spiritual works of our hands, causes His fruits to grow.
Willie Sutton was not a “word whiz”
And you won’t find his name in “showbiz”
But his quote I prefer
Came to him while “in stir”
“I rob banks ‘cause that’s where money is!”
There is a serious
Price to pay when
Take something by
Force because it
Does not belong to
YOU
stealing seems to me so wide widespread (far-flung) problem in the whole world
A quick glance sideways
He shoplifts a little speck of gold
~ The weight of a man
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
To to dummy that has been stealing my work
I have my original work saved on an usb
Stop rewriting and changing titles on my work
They always blame things on hackers, but this is an inside jobs
the truth is the truth,
Its time for this old patriarchial system to die
these covens will be done away with!
When you steal, it’s more than an object you take—
You sever a thread in the soul you forsake.
That bracelet? A gift from a mother now gone.
That wallet? A dream that someone leaned on.
Behind every item lies a story untold,
A piece of a life that was cherished and bold.
To you it’s just something—cheap, small, or fast,
But to them it’s a moment that never comes back.
You may not hear the silent cry,
Or see the look in their searching eye.
But a wound is made, silent and wide,
And something pure begins to die inside.
In taking what’s not yours to claim,
You tarnish your truth, you darken your name.
A flame within flickers low and cold,
And down a darker path, you’re pulled.
Yet there’s a choice before that fall—
To rise, to grow, to heed the call.
Learn the worth of honest trade,
And let your light shine undismayed.
Respect what’s theirs, find your own way.
Stealing may take, but it won’t ever pay.
Light of love falls soft and glad
Right before the wind, so sad
Night comes quick to the life
Sight unseen, healing all strife
Might be love, the sweetest wife
Demon comes with smiles
Very carefully veiled wiles
Prod another to take the fall
A Victim through it all
Demon guise as a mother
Looking for another to smother
A wife a husbands fall foretell
She will see everyone burn in hell
Demon deception of caring
All the while souls seering
Malicious word of mouth ensue
But the truth you will eschew
Demon conniving and stealing
Envy and greed guaranteeing
Long fingers to secretly grasp
Play innocent your mask
Demon dutchman kind
We know and see your mind
Common trash from the ash
For truth you are no match
Would you steal an oil painting from someone’s wall?
Would you steal cultivated flowers from someone’s garden?
Would you steal an author’s great novel?
Would you steal quilts made by someone’s grandmother?
Would you steal pottery from a gallery?
Would you steal artwork displayed by artists?
Why would you steal someone else’s creativity to claim as your own?
Plagiarism is stealing someone else’s heart felt emotions put into words, someone else’s creativity.
Stealing is stealing, it’s not yours and it’s a crime!
Red lips dripping smile
Spilling like long river Nile
Car jacking in style
We are sneaking these pumpkins out of this field said Fang.
He was the leader at of the Kitty Pumpkin Sneaking Gang.
I thought it odd because if they were trying to do it on the sly.
Why would they name their gang? Why oh, dear, why?
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