Open is the March's puzzles
Yet, man just don't have mouth guzzles
More than enough but no need for muzzles
Without gaze(s), He knows what is to come
Either one opens his mouth or mind, He is never dumb
He understands every other time demands' plum
Long fixed look
Reading through M's book
See not what His eyes would unhook
With Thy fixed eyes
The wants that arise
Simply obey with how time flies
Your eyes connect closely
Traveling smiles smoking miles grossly
The destination of hearts praying mostly
The inkwell dissolves into a purple puddle,
where fountain pens sprout feathers and fly south.
I unhook my knuckles from the rigid sentence,
letting the comma drift away like a helium balloon.
Letting it go, whispers the stapler.
I am breathing, but the breath is made of vowels.
A preposition crawls onto my wrist,
and the margins of the page begin to sweat affluence.
No, I will not structure the nightmare—
I will let it rearrange its own furniture.
The verb is a fish, flipping into the sky.
My hands are no longer hands, but soft, white moths
landing on the keys, or perhaps the teeth,
of a sleeping typewriter.
The paper screams, but only in cursive.
Drop the plot into the blender.
Add the memory of a smell, a sudden, sharp, neon blue.
Surrender, says the ink, which is now running
like blood, or perhaps like rivers
that only flow upward.
The story is eating itself.
The ending is just beginning to breathe.
Nothing makes sense, and that is the only logic left.
Eyes compete to compensate beauty,
Beyond pleasure of reasonable duty.
Money competes to compensate value,
Before time sets another price anew...
Pen competes to compensate book...
Above muse running minds unhook.
Eraser competes to compensate error,
Against stake of consequence's terror.
Mind competes to compensate brain,
Holding unto wisdom for huge gain.
Thinking competes to compensate judgement,
Having checked through for proper assessment.
Voice competes to compensate ears,
To be calm of sweet words foaming cheers!
Tongue competes to compensate understanding,
Towards convincing points so outstanding.
Seat competes to compensate buttocks,
Cum comfort not necessarily quite deluxe.
Bed competes to compensate spinal cord,
Care sets free unlike one in the hospital's ward.
Women compete to compensate survival,
Vigilant enough of approaching rival.
Men compete to compensate growth,
Virtually for both also marriage's oath.
Competition drives value-
To compensate focus guide
And fight forces turning tide,
Against what desires pursue...
To all the male members
of the praying mantis species
a word to the wise you guys
now pay attention to my theses
whether for fun you recreate
or to mate and procreate
it's something I really would not advocate
hold on tight to your pants
love at first sight is not romance
I don't care if you look
but never dare go so far
as to unhook her bra
and whatever you do don't lose your head
as before postcoital dysphoria sets in
the female will kill you dead
she'll make a meal of you
tear you limb from limb
and if you don't believe me
when last did you see our randy brother Jim?
let us correct the way we look
body shell is shaped from earth’s crust
discard all knowing, burn the book
we’re spirit, not this form of dust
God as living light, dwells in all
let us correct the way we look
truth of our true Self please recall
who in truth we are, we mistook
faults of others let’s overlook
know each soul’s journey is unique
let us correct the way we look
God’s light within is what we seek
sing a hymn, conjure a love verse
from ego cravings, let’s unhook
we are one with the universe
let us correct the way we look
Two figures laughing in the tangible woodlands
just as they were the young teens during first visit
enjoying the walk through the vegetation to look
for the spot they deemed sacred for themselves
he decided to lean against a tree to view their
carved initials in the precious bark of the seemly
replicas rows of trees as she decided to pick colorful
flowers to place in her hair from the abundance of them
A beautiful day to soak up a natural nature vibe
reminiscing about the many visits, different seasons
spring being the best times, sun peeking through
the tall trees as they unpack and hook the ends of
a hammock to relax in their familiar spot as they
engage in deep conversations about life as usual
The sunset warns of darkness creeping in soon, so time to
unhook the hammock to repack, walking towards the path
through the thick vegetation whilst giggling and laughing
about a pastime that would never get old.
The nascent sun warmth appears to emanate
The spiritual worlds charm of confidence state.
A breath whisper thrives a frail blossom;
Reclaim its exhalation colour delight-some.
A small, huff, whirlwind uplifts, swirling,
Pinwheel of fallen autumn leaves, ebbing,
Passionate rant ease, then lay unhook
Settling a pepper to a rustic idyllic look.
Existent amorous illusion scene of welcoming aweless
Sheath dress in continuance timeless solace.
Spellbound by silence sweet embracing scent
Eminently natural or synthetic trace descent.
Sunny laughter where squirrel scurry everywhere.
Charm and seductive song of mockingbird compare.
In an aura and its heavenly quintessence kept abreast;
Butterflies flit, bumblebees Emerging from nestled rest.
7/21/2024
He vacationed with his girlfriend in France,
Where, on the beach, he averted his glance.
Ignoring all the heat,
He kept cool and discreet,
While he carefully adjusted his pants.
'Twas praiseworthy how he tried not to look.
He cautiously put his nose in a book.
Big and itty-bitty,
What he missed, a pity,
Till his girlfriend said, "please help me unhook."
There once was a bear
Who was loved for his shoes
To a girl he was gifted
Just her cuddly muse
On a once rainy day
With a shelter required
The brolly was shaken
To it's cover retired
Then a browse through the store
With her eyes shining bright
The gloss of his footwear
Caught a beam of the light
A flash and a sparkle
Was all that it took
So a friendship was forged
That no force could unhook
As they travelled together
Through the sun and the rain
Their companionship moulded
By life's tough terrain
So the girl became woman
Then a grandma and such..
The bear became gifted
And was loved, not so much
Then one day, for some reason
His world became dark
In the silence he longed
For the girl and her spark
After years it seemed, waiting
One day it occurred
There was light and a voice
Of encouraging word
"I love him", she said
And he knew it was true
Despite fur slightly flattened
Or less sparkly shoe
He remembered way back
To the dusty old shop
Once that love lives inside you
It's a heart that won't stop
Riding a great dragon’s tail through the soaking wet darkness of the early morning,
Red,
Tails and tails of red bending through the breathing stone as I inch closer to the labour camp,
Closer and closer to the sacrificial alter of Kronos,
Where I hang my heart from his crooked scythe of time,
In exchange for small pieces of silver,
Never big enough to free me from the great dragon’s tail that furls red through the weeping shade of bitter cold,
Never big enough to unhook my heart from his Scythe and give it full and healthy to my daughter’s,
Never big enough to leave the labour camp,
Never big enough to feel the rings of time shining long and warm on my pale skin,
Just enough to keep me coming back,
Just enough to chain me to the red tail,
Just enough to lock me away from every colour of meaning,
Just enough to enslave me in perpetual servitude,
In honour of those small pieces of silver.
I pull back the curtains
And out I look
There lay a carriage, oh yes, I’m certain
Suddenly, I hear a knock at my door
So the lock I unhook
The door i open
Standing there, a figure
A creature of great lore
Grinning, deceptively it hands me a paper and a pen
It’s come for my soul I begin to figure
“I’m not ready” I begin to plea
Yet, from death there is no where to flee.
You are the author of this book
The words, sentences, paragraphs, and chapters
Write well, and fear and procrastination do unhook
So this book, your book, can dwell hereafter
Write with intent and purpose
Make sure to use a good pen and paper
Remember to hone the body with an excursus
Make certain your print is emboldened with no taper
A masterpiece that is colorful, loving, bold, and clever
A true page flipper, a reader's delight
Like Hemingway, but your way, a New York Times bestseller
Write your book with veracity and with all your might
So write, and write very well, my lad
Tell your tale like Canterbury, as did Chaucer
Let your ink indelibly imprint the world pad
Go ahead and cast your best words because, in this book, you are the author
Star-pod, Ashanti, all aboard ya'll!
We're penetrating space-time's inpenatratable wall
Floating & flying through space-time atmosphere
Where the unknown is crystal-clear
So all aboard, ya'll, it's the 2nd call to see
The mysteriously darkened space-time!
Come aboard, Ashanti, come see the best prime
Don't stray too far from your pods
'Cause if you do, your lines will snap
And it will unhook from ISS's rods
Casting ya'll to your scariest doom
Your bodies will stay flying dead forever
Floating & decomposing for all of eternity
All this information - for certainly
If you float & stray far, you can simply die
If you don't wanna die - I suggest you comply
Or your 700 million dollar pod will be auctioned
That is, if you unhook, get lost, & possibly die
At any rate, if you cease to exist - consider this
A fair warning I sang
A riddlized riddle
A rusted fiddle
Come now & don't dwiddle
And with that as the door slams
& mechanically locks
You're all of a sudden in zero-gravity
Flying in Ashanti's trapeze
5, 4, 3, 2, 1
Space-time is where I'll be
For you,
I'd risk it all.
Yes, you're more than worth it!
I'd give you the moon you cry for.
I'd unhook all stars from the sable sky.
I'd forever be your proud fool.
There's nothing in this world
I wouldn't do
For you.
Date written: 12/14/2022
"He stuck his tongue out at me.
He made the symbol of a gun.
He pretended to shoot me.
This is NOT OKAY!”
This is being yelled to my back.
As I try to unhook this child from a fence,
So, I can lead seventeen children into the school.
I want to stick out my tongue at her, and she is a teacher.
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