Four Quarters Charge A Buck

To articulate a given state,

the Beast within shrieks,

the caught tremble,

the Cast is without Doubt.

Pile upon the Mountains of drawn,

the wealth retained in being,

the pond of over-seeing,

the Island of the Branding,

a Numerical Still.

To make ware of the reducement,

the stairs of the chemicals spill,

a watch in cellular skill,

the anger will be filled.

Earth has been raped of her natural born Turf,

the concern of no regard,

words I have used in great detail,

announcements of why the Biblical Rails,

to the balance of merely tailed.

Frying eggs as the basis shells,

the sordid specials,

to put to place,

every single thing has reason to bring,

the evidence delivers the bee in sting.

Front this Core to Measure My Bore,

the burial will out the scuff of shore,

up to the Waves of Tidaled in Roar,

the melting increased by the lie saying please.

Creative gassing to natural lasting,

by the design of whom I credit a Life,

in the continuing of health and wellness,

the reports will produce the actions will reduce,

the bead to the narrows of Infinities Duce.

In above the future below the do,

profits doom the Collective boom.

Required by nothing,

charged in spectacle,

money burns as hottest of the green barrel sterned,

gold to platinum melds to dones,

the Treasury of the Broader punned for the Notable clues to Folks.

Got A Mug

The Why In Wisdom To Speak Or To Deed

When a Person such as Noel Gallagher says the following,

Noel Gallagher from Oasis once joyfully described unwrapping Blunt's severed head on a TV talk show. Lily Allen opined that "James Blunt rhymes with his surname".

http://www.stuff.co.nz/entertainment/music/10048143/Lets-be-blunt-about-James-Blunt

http://www.4vf.net/lets-be-blunt-about-james-blunt/

you must stop and consider life as a fragile state of being,

not joking.

The hatred shown for James Blunt personally,

to have had this said,

in Public Forums,

the reason that many lives will dread,

is the simplicity of the reality.

So similarly familiar to what Sarah Meakin said,

to what Tamara Senior Stafford warned,

the texts of conversation in real

have not created these storms,

the thunder of the lightening strikes the grounds,

to know that Wisdom is reason,

as patience has saved more lives.

Reporting daily on the Global grind,

the National News has hit a bind,

first a book published,

'Write Like A Freak'

to identify not to insult,

the loss of imaginative thought.

Second report from Gail Meyers,

whom laughed and fell desire,

in the opinion she gave,

on the next book published within a fortnight,

'You Are Not Special' by David McCullough.

A Commencement Speech from the Faculty teach delivered,

to the Wellesley High School Class of 2012,

reported on CBS News last Week.

Dr. Wong, Dr. Keough, Mrs. Novogroski, Ms. Curran, members of the board of education, family and friends of the graduates, ladies and gentlemen of the Wellesley High School class of 2012, for the privilege of speaking to you this afternoon, I am honored and grateful.  Thank you.

So here we are… commencement… life's great forward-looking ceremony.  (And don't say, "What about weddings?"  Weddings are one-sided and insufficiently effective.  Weddings are bride-centric pageantry.  Other than conceding to a list of unreasonable demands, the groom just stands there.  No stately, hey-everybody-look-at-me procession.  No being given away.  No identity-changing pronouncement.  And can you imagine a television show dedicated to watching guys try on tuxedos?  Their fathers sitting there misty-eyed with joy and disbelief, their brothers lurking in the corner muttering with envy.  Left to men, weddings would be, after limits-testing procrastination, spontaneous, almost inadvertent… during halftime… on the way to the refrigerator.  And then there's the frequency of failure: statistics tell us half of you will get divorced.  A winning percentage like that'll get you last place in the American League East.  The Baltimore Orioles do better than weddings.)

But this ceremony… commencement… a commencement works every time.  From this day forward… truly… in sickness and in health, through financial fiascos, through midlife crises and passably attractive sales reps at trade shows in Cincinnati, through diminishing tolerance for annoyingness, through every difference, irreconcilable and otherwise, you will stay forever graduated from high school, you and your diploma as one, 'til death do you part.

No, commencement is life's great ceremonial beginning, with its own attendant and highly appropriate symbolism.  Fitting, for example, for this auspicious rite of passage, is where we find ourselves this afternoon, the venue.  Normally, I avoid clichés like the plague, wouldn't touch them with a ten-foot pole, but here we are on a literal level playing field.  That matters.  That says something.  And your ceremonial costume… shapeless, uniform, one-size-fits-all.  Whether male or female, tall or short, scholar or slacker, spray-tanned prom queen or intergalactic X-Box assassin, each of you is dressed, you'll notice, exactly the same.  And your diploma… but for your name, exactly the same.

All of this is as it should be, because none of you is special.

You are not special.  You are not exceptional.

Contrary to what your u9 soccer trophy suggests, your glowing seventh grade report card, despite every assurance of a certain corpulent purple dinosaur, that nice Mister Rogers and your batty Aunt Sylvia, no matter how often your maternal caped crusader has swooped in to save you… you're nothing special. 

Yes, you've been pampered, cosseted, doted upon, helmeted, bubble-wrapped.  Yes, capable adults with other things to do have held you, kissed you, fed you, wiped your mouth, wiped your bottom, trained you, taught you, tutored you, coached you, listened to you, counseled you, encouraged you, consoled you and encouraged you again.  You've been nudged, cajoled, wheedled and implored.  You've been feted and fawned over and called sweetie pie.  Yes, you have.  And, certainly, we've been to your games, your plays, your recitals, your science fairs.  Absolutely, smiles ignite when you walk into a room, and hundreds gasp with delight at your every tweet.  Why, maybe you've even had your picture in the Townsman!  [Editor's upgrade: Or The Swellesley Report!] And now you've conquered high school… and, indisputably, here we all have gathered for you, the pride and joy of this fine community, the first to emerge from that magnificent new building…

But do not get the idea you're anything special.  Because you're not.

The empirical evidence is everywhere, numbers even an English teacher can't ignore.  Newton, Natick, Nee… I am allowed to say Needham, yes? …that has to be two thousand high school graduates right there, give or take, and that's just the neighborhood Ns.  Across the country no fewer than 3.2 million seniors are graduating about now from more than 37,000 high schools.  That's 37,000 valedictorians… 37,000 class presidents… 92,000 harmonizing altos… 340,000 swaggering jocks… 2,185,967 pairs of Uggs.  But why limit ourselves to high school?  After all, you're leaving it.  So think about this: even if you're one in a million, on a planet of 6.8 billion that means there are nearly 7,000 people just like you.  Imagine standing somewhere over there on Washington Street on Marathon Monday and watching sixty-eight hundred yous go running by.  And consider for a moment the bigger picture: your planet, I'll remind you, is not the center of its solar system, your solar system is not the center of its galaxy, your galaxy is not the center of the universe.  In fact, astrophysicists assure us the universe has no center; therefore, you cannot be it.  Neither can Donald Trump… which someone should tell him… although that hair is quite a phenomenon.

"But, Dave," you cry, "Walt Whitman tells me I'm my own version of perfection!  Epictetus tells me I have the spark of Zeus!"  And I don't disagree.  So that makes 6.8 billion examples of perfection, 6.8 billion sparks of Zeus.  You see, if everyone is special, then no one is.  If everyone gets a trophy, trophies become meaningless.  In our unspoken but not so subtle Darwinian competition with one another-which springs, I think, from our fear of our own insignificance, a subset of our dread of mortality - we have of late, we Americans, to our detriment, come to love accolades more than genuine achievement.  We have come to see them as the point - and we're happy to compromise standards, or ignore reality, if we suspect that's the quickest way, or only way, to have something to put on the mantelpiece, something to pose with, crow about, something with which to leverage ourselves into a better spot on the social totem pole.  No longer is it how you play the game, no longer is it even whether you win or lose, or learn or grow, or enjoy yourself doing it…  Now it's "So what does this get me?"  As a consequence, we cheapen worthy endeavors, and building a Guatemalan medical clinic becomes more about the application to Bowdoin than the well-being of Guatemalans.  It's an epidemic - and in its way, not even dear old Wellesley High is immune… one of the best of the 37,000 nationwide, Wellesley High School… where good is no longer good enough, where a B is the new C, and the midlevel curriculum is called Advanced College Placement.  And I hope you caught me when I said "one of the best."  I said "one of the best" so we can feel better about ourselves, so we can bask in a little easy distinction, however vague and unverifiable, and count ourselves among the elite, whoever they might be, and enjoy a perceived leg up on the perceived competition.  But the phrase defies logic.  By definition there can be only one best.  You're it or you're not.

If you've learned anything in your years here I hope it's that education should be for, rather than material advantage, the exhilaration of learning.  You've learned, too, I hope, as Sophocles assured us, that wisdom is the chief element of happiness.  (Second is ice cream…  just an fyi)  I also hope you've learned enough to recognize how little you know… how little you know now… at the moment… for today is just the beginning.  It's where you go from here that matters.

As you commence, then, and before you scatter to the winds, I urge you to do whatever you do for no reason other than you love it and believe in its importance.  Don't bother with work you don't believe in any more than you would a spouse you're not crazy about, lest you too find yourself on the wrong side of a Baltimore Orioles comparison.  Resist the easy comforts of complacency, the specious glitter of materialism, the narcotic paralysis of self-satisfaction.  Be worthy of your advantages.  And read… read all the time… read as a matter of principle, as a matter of self-respect.  Read as a nourishing staple of life.  Develop and protect a moral sensibility and demonstrate the character to apply it.  Dream big.  Work hard.  Think for yourself.  Love everything you love, everyone you love, with all your might.  And do so, please, with a sense of urgency, for every tick of the clock subtracts from fewer and fewer; and as surely as there are commencements there are cessations, and you'll be in no condition to enjoy the ceremony attendant to that eventuality no matter how delightful the afternoon.

The fulfilling life, the distinctive life, the relevant life, is an achievement, not something that will fall into your lap because you're a nice person or mommy ordered it from the caterer.  You'll note the founding fathers took pains to secure your inalienable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness-quite an active verb, "pursuit"-which leaves, I should think, little time for lying around watching parrots rollerskate on Youtube.  The first President Roosevelt, the old rough rider, advocated the strenuous life.  Mr. Thoreau wanted to drive life into a corner, to live deep and suck out all the marrow.  The poet Mary Oliver tells us to row, row into the swirl and roil.  Locally, someone… I forget who… from time to time encourages young scholars to carpe the heck out of the diem.  The point is the same: get busy, have at it.  Don't wait for inspiration or passion to find you.  Get up, get out, explore, find it yourself, and grab hold with both hands.  (Now, before you dash off and get your YOLO tattoo, let me point out the illogic of that trendy little expression-because you can and should live not merely once, but every day of your life.  Rather than You Only Live Once, it should be You Live Only Once… but because YLOO doesn't have the same ring, we shrug and decide it doesn't matter.)

None of this day-seizing, though, this YLOOing, should be interpreted as license for self-indulgence.  Like accolades ought to be, the fulfilled life is a consequence, a gratifying byproduct.  It's what happens when you're thinking about more important things.  Climb the mountain not to plant your flag, but to embrace the challenge, enjoy the air and behold the view.  Climb it so you can see the world, not so the world can see you.  Go to Paris to be in Paris, not to cross it off your list and congratulate yourself for being worldly.  Exercise free will and creative, independent thought not for the satisfactions they will bring you, but for the good they will do others, the rest of the 6.8 billion-and those who will follow them.  And then you too will discover the great and curious truth of the human experience is that selflessness is the best thing you can do for yourself.  The sweetest joys of life, then, come only with the recognition that you're not special.

Because everyone is.

Congratulations.  Good luck.  Make for yourselves, please, for your sake and for ours, extraordinary lives.

Read more: http://www.myfoxboston.com/story/18720284/2012/06/06/full-transcript-youre-not-special-speech#ixzz324IX4BrL

Is this to be encouragement,

taken at face value?

Is it easily understood,

or simply made to distort?

The same Guest at the National News Desk of CBS,

Norah O'Donnell asked in short,

"Do you tell your children that they are not special?"

the response from said guest was,

"YES I DO"

spoken with such glee that the impact upon Norah O'Donnell was palpable,

she was literally thrown in her stature,

her face showed the capture of,

'you've got to be kidding.'

As many have risen to views in this World,

just yesterday while being useful,

a young woman happened upon me,

in the impact of the moment,

these Interviews came to Mind.

Life is special,

 each Mind is Unique,

One of Kind,

the blessing of Self is the purchase of your internal wealth,

and should never be destroyed, joked or toiled with by subjectivism.

To interpret would be insane,

to accept would be the shame,

to acknowledge the worth of the spoken verse,

would be the reality that I don't rehearse,

I spur.

ATTENTION JAMES HILLIER BLUNT ~ Regarding the Sourced

The Conception of an Idea,

always Original to bleed.

The wounds One suffers,

an original deed.

To have balanced the long,

subjective View of Post cannot be a Wrong.

Cratered to difference,

the song had a source,

before the lyricist did more.

To have spoken frankly,

to be blunt in repose,

words have meaning,

stanzaed reaming.

The Counter of the Mocking felt,

is the Public review of balk.

To credit nothing in nothing,

is to state every thing means sum thing.

Bursting from a Source design,

the want to Meet came from behind,

the reasonable request,

either way,

broke not my heart for I don't sway.

Liked by another,

the pain remind,

that worry is the indifference,

the posting of why.

Gather you're ability,

for this I have felt gratitude,

to what is evidence,

I simply say,

"that's Life in the fastest of plays."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This Post was Written on October 16th 2011. As per my converse I now can question the most incredible song of the Year.  Just went Platinum I hear.  Congratulations my Wonder has been that my life repeats, again and again. Hence the wisdom as child to have never written anything down.  So as you, James Hillier Blunt prepare to wrap up your Tour in the United States of America, I gift to you the basis that your song 'Bonfire Heart' and others were drawn from.  I would loved to have met you face to face, so that I could look you in the eye and know something.  Without a doubt, I know something. The Truth will set a freedom bar.

Should have any questions please feel free to read the original at;

 http://thesecretoftheuniversechoice.blogspot.com/2011/10/the-court-of-death.html

Court of Death

 by Karen Anastasia Placek 

Upon entry to Death.

The immediate stop made, after you believe.

That Heaven and Hell are only cities,

with Hotels that usher you into what is your next permanence:

Judgement of Yourself!

1.) Pull a number.

2.) Stand in line.

Recite your defense while waiting,

as if you can rinse away your guilt or sin.

But, not as it's been, it has changed since then,

you've contracted in, for a stiff sentence,

called, "Life."

So, as you wonder, or as you fear,

this time you die is drawing near.

Dirt you're not: Compassion nigh.

Your life has been read,

line by line.

Are you ready to face your lie?

Have you shown? Have you done?

Have you been? For anyone?

Are you a person, who thinks they can; Run?

Or, do you finally know you're done?

A simple message, from Old Past.

Where Souls exist, but, you've killed that.

Did you hear? The cry of One?

Who said, "Please Sir, I need a Twin? My Souls been sold! I need..."

Or, will you only plead what you print?

"My God, Help me to survive this deadly love."

Does it matter? I think not.

We both know, you will not show.

But, well-versed we both are on this thing,

the After-Life is something.

Death will meet, "On U-Tube, Right?"

A practice for your Shroud?

In my case, I have already seen;

Death for you, is Life for me.

I'd rather have a "Deadly Love"

then plead to anyone from above.

So, live your life free from me,

'cause one day soon you'll cry in need.

Loneliness, your best friend.

Sexual resist for what? I do persist.

'Cause when I bed a Man or more,

I won't be a singer or a fucking whore.

Attraction, will rule and I will soar,

to finally have it all, like THOR!

Your hesitance in this will be,

the reason why you're Homeless, SEE!

A transient life is lonely; Strife.

Take a chance?

You can't! You won't!

Why?

You are afraid to loose yourself,

although you write in Limerence. Right?

What do you think? That I'm wrong?

If so, then let your nature be,

continue on and sing the song.

"Been in a Country 30 minutes long. Got a Girl"

Come on!

Settle down, end your whirl of whine.

A True Love found you did for "Sis"

Sold her on E-Bay: No Resist?

Yes you did, makes you fair game.

God forbid, I heard your name.

You are a curse to me and mine.

The hope that magic comes from a sign.

But, I hope you accept my pain that's true,

you seem well-versed and very vain.

So, if you find a love at funerals,

then why deny yourself a Seer?

Who writes some script, it rhymes, "I guess."

but in truth it is a Riddler, am I.

This I do,

"Confess."

If you could find the meaning in,

realize that I don't sin.

But, want you too! My mind wants more.

I imagine you're cute, but probably "A bore."

I look past your foibles,

I look into your eyes: Just right.

Embarrassing? You have no clue,

I'm the one in like with you.

So, do ignore!

Pretend you're blind, to every word and every line.

And, when your Old, holding your mind,

looking up at what?

ERUPT!

You had a chance to dance a dance.

That was new, A World Romance!!

But, cold you are and age will take,

your looks away and leave in stay.

A date with Death, you cannot miss,

for at this point, "You'll wonder this?"

If I had taken the chance?

Breakfast?

In America?

California?

On this Romance?

Would I be "Old" and "Alone."

Or, would I have, had a life, a home,

within a Family that loved......etc.

Questions?

Not mine, but yours my friend.

The only answer I have from then,

Is!!

When you go, to far below,

pull your number and they ask slow.

"What have you done for anyone, that was selfless and not a shun?"

"Did you help? When you were asked?"

"Was Romance, just a piece of ass?"
"Do you have a Soul? Or, Two?"

"Are you missing? Did you undo?"

Caught you are inside yourself,

sounding better, you are so stealth.

What would it cost to find out, Why?

I write these riddles, are you so nice? I ask myself.

"Are you my Twin? Are you more?"

It seems I know you from Old Past.

But, down below, silence won't go,

the answers forced, they never wane.

So, here you are; Denying yourself,

you've made C.D.'s with songs: You yelled!

What do you want? If life's not it, is it,

adventure, fun, about?

As I come to my own end,

I say to you, "Good Luck."

Every person enjoys not much,

and in your case you have been touched.

By a Riddler, a Poet Seer too,

a Reader, a Savant,

"What more do you want?"

.....does laugh, at least its true.

I have a chance, if not with you.

To experience all you've done,

travel the World and meet everyone.

Just to say, "Hi, how do you do?"

Stay for dinner?

"I would love too."

So, March yourself to shorten life,

married Men, know much less strife.

Travel with you? "Of course, I would."

Cook you dinner? 

With good food and a very kind hand.

A homemade plan.

My ..... would love such an idea.

To see the World, not count thereof.

A number, you keep of Countries that pay,

you to sing. It's not the way.

To build what's good,

friendships that last,

to make more money and to be invited back.

You must believe that people see,

they do read and wish for thee.

To know what's good, will bring you wealth,

not to your Bank but to "Yourself."

It's not about giving away,

don't be confused or turn, say "Shew."

You must make bank, it is what you do,

so that you afford what's new, what's good.

Relaxing, recovering from your long Tours;

You've been, it's true, you're tired too.

Just don't count the days or countries; You sin!

It makes the people feel so much less and then,

it becomes surreal and that's not cool.

Would you like to just be a ticket or deal?

Magic happens, maybe it won't be you.

Just maybe, it will be another you see?

You cannot say that, people don't sway,

at what I've written to you each day.

So, take your time, it seems your way.

But .... save you from what might be true,

you're just too scared to know.

That in "Adventure" you find what's new!

Don't worry Sir, You are just fine.

I'm sure you'll find and "Fuck" your kind.

Make sure your eyes are open so,

that you'll be alive and "Whoa."

Not in a fantasy inside your mind of sexual, blow?

The truth is bitter!

Never goes down as sweet.

But, "Death Courts" real,

to me, at least.

So, in defense, of never me.

I'll send my record in advance you see,

 of your date with them: Announce,

"Your failure and/or your lack of try,"

of any interest from this guy.

Anubis, Iris and RA will be,

just a few, that represents Me.

The Demons, the Spirits and Satan,

I'm sure.

Will receive you, "Dear Sir."

You sing of this, in Time, in Space.

Did you know I have a face?

Now you are aware of my scars;

I too; "Write!"

 dear Lord,

by no mistake, you're made.

Not so stealth, but Honesty wins out.

So, ever so loudly, I do so tout,

"To a sensitive Man," he's about.

Alright! I do, admit my guilt!

A "Twin Soul" haunts my very self.

So, I do listen to early songs,

but after that, I do what's wrong.

I ignore and push away,

the very man I should pull my way.

I only do what is correct,

'cause odds are that my Heart will break.

By ignoring and not coming to see,

what is this Magnetic Force to thee.

It is I: He'll never ask himself.

Protecting me from uncertainty.

I hold the Flame, a Candle, well.

Of Hope, I do to see me through, this time, it's weird,

"What to do?"

I just don't know?
"Do you?"

They say we are only suffering from,

"The Seven Degrees of Separation"

anyone on this Earth?

I know I've seen this man before.

I know a "Twin Soul" he is to me, a Sword.

So, words of Wisdom; "Words!" I plea,

"Cut me out! and leave me be!"

Don't pass so close to my life.

Don't tempt me, my children, I love,

and we, as family, deserve what's nice.

I've had the worst life, "A Thing" could have

(referred to since my birth)

but, a best life is my balance: A Stab.

A shot at what would be so cool,

from "Worst to Best" with only too.

The moment it takes to say, "I do."

So, whether it's you or someone else,

I wrote the truth, I was not stealth.

But; Silence will come one day, so soon,

'cause, a book I want to do.

Write, it's true!

"Death Court"

a message from my youth, "It's due!"

Just like you, I'll never be.

I won't be late for this date:

Instead I'll speak and be what's neat,

Myself, my story is what I like,

I keep it real, based on life.

Posted 16th October 2011 by Karen A. Placek

Mader

The time decide maid the choice,

clearly points of due,

to put the drop upon the crop,

that a sentence can not move.

Shoddy passing the buck in stride,

the base of me is simply why,

taking from than giving shun,

the double-tongue is known as bung.

As pledge of allegiance to the Man,

of the Global Universal Span,

both past and present required hands,

maintaining control to out the planned.

Butter the cream of already made,
the jam to the jelly sets the peanuts to stay,
an Orchard, a Garden, a Myth to a Tale,
the Order of which came with a Hitch.

Should one be the Tree that Apple or Orange,
shall naturally grown change the plant to a loan,
is it possible that the hinge is the oil in bone,
ability to walk or pick up a tone.

Evolve to a stream as the water does run,
first the Mountain had to feel the falling in come,
in proper of timing the melting runs quick,
as Valleys have been fertilized by sip.

To put the Chicken before the Egg,
the Sky in place a Cloud,
the rain in the drops,
frozen in times as up and down props.

As a child that lived with the story of Eden,
my friend was so frightened by all that was eaten,
the vomit that happened,
that 30 foot vast,
the projectile form a bucket the past.

More attention was brought on the Negative Hot,
the coiling in speech did have a long reach,
our Minds were the pleasure,
the actions we measured,
and the truth was never dismissed.

As Time is the Wheel of all ways reveal,
grown adults listened to absorbing this do,
as Adam and Eve procreated than leaved,
the terrible blame of pursue,
produced a World due.

Now at this juncture my thought has become,
how can People of this pasting so fed,
not only embrace but beat in our heads,
that if you're disgraced you offer a hand,
so that the populous will be in the damned.

the Apple, the Garden, the Rib of a Man,
seduction, lies, the bite of the plan,
the stature of perfect felled for a pie,
somehow I see the resemblance to guy.

The World Now ~ Leg-Up ~ ACDC ~ Electric Trades

Uploaded memory of futuristic ties,

not the kind it is the Type that knits,

from the base of an exist,

the Ancient Preordained !!

Clasp with a vital peer,

the make is such a better,

that the Set is Rad,

in a call of Fad!!

Creative by Design,

it is the laughter of the shine,

the glowing blast of the Fire in the Flame,

a pass!!

Linked in the Time of Rides,

that Wise is no Temptor,

it is the Fresh Lore of the Matter,

not black, nor blue,

it is the bases of Trued.

Friendly raptures to invite the Stature,

a brighter scare to enhance the rare,

as the Sun is glare in the Moon of dare,

simply complex to have shared.

Themes in All,

the stance is not the fall,

rather the balance of the Maul,

a hammering to a guillotine,

off with the head to nail it instead,

the batter is ready fed.

Dance if you chose,

decide if you Wish,

know may can replace,

the adventure is the day,

upon the farthered cave.

Mind for a blanket sound,

as the Iron is sew bound,

by nothing but adjusting,

the length to the short,

the Chapelet bourne. 

Mind Fiddling

Match make her, match make earth, Match make 'er,

Roar,

as Math will Add-Up,

Abstraction is Buff. 

Do you believe in Traditions lost to Conditional lies,

responsive to you, want I need, and neither of us,

begin the realize.

Well.....if....I were a Fire fly upon the crowded Song,

than I would sing the weirded strong just to see,

the sweating lather of a Man on the Moon to be,

the proof of the footing steps I need.

Of course as We make decide to never know,

than the Singer is the Price in a 'Charming' of polled,

and the Aughter is the Public at presently Band,

a photographic moment in painted of land.

A girl that plays Fire,

may be burned by the Match,

the ring of squired is the shots on the Wire,

a walking alter with various requires.

Bookings of oral traditional feats,

the Venue, the Role of Casted for Seeds,

not sewn uncommons just costing the Tree.

The mounting impression of written confession,

speaks of such things,

as oddly repeating months of the leading,

maid posting believing.

Misunderstood as can't or I should,

either developed the words in eye could,

as thirdly responsive the Mass speaks to speed,

the faster you go the slower the dough.

Stretching these Moments to Hours of Seconds,

the amount in the middle is the miss of the fiddle,

scoring to lucky the stride of the view,

is much like the broader of all that is due.

With nothing to offer moreover a clue,

the Moon and the Sun have changed Colours too!!

The Hills are dyeing as Mountains are Sky,

the litter of language the negative vibe,

communicates to hearing that we all will just die,

in liberty and peace and without evened try.

The sequel will Sacred a proverb to make,

in 'The Continue' the will not to fake,

a path with a terrible agreed it's a shake,

the quiver of Arrow's make known Two the Barrow,

that the strength of the Cause,

is the Share of the Pause.

Water says Hi!!

It is the Turf you stand upon that lungs,

up from the drills that fires strong,

made to order the destroy,

know mention to the acidics' blew,

the air into the wind of move.

World afar would say it's Tar,

the clearly blackened ground in marred.

Is the worth of all the birth,

brought for life upon this Earth,

only to experience gurt,

as dams of treasures have been hurt.

Lathered sweats in Lodges let,

the Minds of the Indigenous lead,

it is the choice bye choice decide,

that knows the Moon is High.

Coy ensembles played the drums,

the repercussions seen begun,

before the strung did bang the stunned,

the dapple said it poe.

Rockets did glare as longs burst in heir,

gave proof through the life,

that the existence is spare.

No doubt to the written approval of banned,

the dance of the Native Indian of land,

took many years to bring this to hand,

now the Red is the Facts that have Stand.

Running Arrow shots of Barrow,

the handle of two made certainly moved,

to better the groove with the Bow of the shrewd.

Prints that exact the horses in pat,

left is the right the beast of the fight,

numbered for reasons that tattoo in the want,

children are real as this is no taunt.

Torn from the bosom that Nature has grown,

gouged out for the oil that Whales did bone,

ancient ideological Oracle stoned,

the present has lifted the burial combed.

Deep with frying the shale is tone,

to hear what it said would be that you're dead,

for all that did open King Tut's tomb in stead,

the curse of the monkey hung down like a shed.

Al Gore made a Movie that I did so watch,

he spoke and he spoke and he spoke a big notch,

the Nations of interest insulted his locks,

ran it to empty the speak of the talk.

A Day came in Passing the effort of trot,

even my favorite did sing a sweet lot,

it is a Wild World the Named said the Cat,

but the clause of the contract took years to exact.

Follow the Leader or have made aware the arrears,

in every of after the first sets the gears,

shifting to stations sold for the steer,

I wonder was it a statement in clear.

    

The Backwards Trued To Be

Criteria blast wit Prow,

the Verbal Tone of now.

The delivered past the introduced,

let allowanced be the truce,

with only One in present dual,

four in the life and zero in strife,

the hugs denied added the stride.

Lacquered light to each a bite,

the parted left for appetite,

not sanctioned can cajole.

In the documented fight,

the Issue came down to I lose the rite,

at every turn to correct the burned,

the cut-off was supported learn.

Lies did mount to all the sounds,

breaking laws never saws,

the lumber of the Human pause,

is the brakes that rubbers spake,

the change did bid it's due.

Nation reports the corruption of Courts,

the mediator of this grossing dish,

the settling brought before the talk,

it's over and it's not in rocks.

Measured distance to years of weight,

the packing of the ever nape,

the grounds of each law in take,

it's One, than Two, then snap the fake.

Driven miles in cars with childs,

that never made the trip,

to be told in late of cold,

better that you do not hold.

Freeways buzzing Trains railed,

the bust of whom is battered by,

in presence of the Judge and guy.

The only safety of that day,

came from sides that do not sway,

pay to looks of what was took,

the decisions were thwarted shooks.

Attention Flagged immediate tagged,

the rooms did show the threat of go,

the answer from the head of gavel,

slammed it down by saying no.

Heavy lead in this a sped,

to write the forward stew,

the brew did hold the future bolds,

to prove the sake of throw.

The Awash Totals Scrubbing

Breezing the Elemental Falls the Watering of the Fire Lawed,

the Flaming spits that kilned the Clay,

to Sourdough I do say,

the wealth is in the dough.

Long to thinner narrows bakes,

the tasting of the showered lakes,

the head of which is changing breaks,

to stale for the bread of rates.

The fiber of the Being in leaned,

caved in to the shoring,

the bits of left to right the meet,

sadly said in silenced sheet.

As notes to posts did nailing,

the Google of the logging,

mowed down the search to leave a lurch,

hanging in the air to speak,

the Titled did knot Sew.

Yarn the fabric to the Thread,

the value of shredded streamed,

to each and every head in seen,

the baster of the speedy talk,

enshrined by locale left to mock.

The crisis feened the handler chopped off,

the Spear of Destiny simply shocked,

for every blurb to each a word,

the Sentence is the gossiping spurred.

When Two Are One And Three Gets Done The Habit Can't Be Spite

Spence the liable to the View,

the burial of life itself to due,

countered measures at bellied fulled,

with All to Team the Deeming Troll.

Hate to straight words are stole,

a skulled imponed the rate of loans,

collecting lives in chairing pries,

a back tracking in real dies.

The quoth shoots rambled tangles lines,

not to imply but set the briar hide,

to skin the bermed in Lie,

a factual interest that is shied.

The Spook of Echoes heard the Spree,

preparation delivered deed,

to supplanted malady,

the basis to the T.V. feed.

Crafted webbing Spiders sprawled,

the denial is the stall,

bedded down a Country saw,

the hay was mounting fields pounce,

upon the wobbling fear.

Tightened wore the retirement soared,

two did step the spear,

in creative balanced Pier,

the Church found a Lamping lear.

The Learned Priest is held to Stone,

the mention of the walled in dome,

to keep the fed off the track,

that doubles up in exact.

Churning difference to Gamely sherds,

the gamble writ was named in fact,

these worldly deeds that once were needs,

put down the battered for the knack.

Spoken jeer was lost in lack,

the herd to brothel a brother burbled,

does not a thing to stop the sheering,

the cuts will never shack.

Dirty Plots

Browned the planted growth in charred,

no simple letting to froth the death,

the salty pots spoked the bread,

a baker roasted kept to thought,

that basic was as basic had.

Groaning Earth belched to birth,

the Ice Aged melted glugging ler,

filthied by the chemical lie,

to drill upon the inner lawn,

the dunks to upping sky.

Principally driven to ballistically hidden,

the foundered grounds burbled louds,

striking oil in gaseous pounds,

the smell no propane found.

Released with conscious knowing sault,

construction maid to self,

no further needed attendant bleeded.

Caught not between the hot did steam,

the heirs no longer needed theme,

the deadly downs were only scene,

as disposable liabilities being,

the monies green.

Paint showed the peel of goad,

the fruit that never gamed,

pieces of deframed did thought,

to ask would make it pot.

The Milk went Sore,

the butter churned,

to hours as a litten grave,

curdled in an open save,

the bottom maid it so.

Digging to the shrunken spewed,

a bloody vomit from only do,

no air in ossified brittle holed,

the clamp brought the grip of sold.

Melon Balled Crown

The Sprite of the Babbled,

a gas to hand held ream,

the swipe that erased,

an application to every spring.

The creaking of the bones in ply,

the burrow of the vestal spy,

the Judas Kiss from Mothered times,

the dream so told that she was sold.

The fodder found that maternal role,

was pailed  for the shrew,

to think that the act perceived,

to actual follow through.

I cast upon the Worlds wrong,

no matter to the strength of wrong,

my mother is loved by this so strong,

I testify as witness of,

the ugliness under Minded subbed.

The breakfast nook to apple look,

the dreaming of her old friend shook,

me to the core of skinned by scored,

the words that poured from her adore,

made shame to hugs and telling floored.

The sight of this approach,

timed with a different Coach,

the calls be made the phone in trades,

yet nothing stopped the blaring raids,

a hole left in the brain.

The scene to view was outside true,

to nature I do love,

the Fern was burned with standing stern,

protection gone to open yawn,

the walk to drive away,

no directions gave the say,

the temper of that Mother's Day.

Volatile rash of firing back,

this person lit the words of formed,

with trashing pictured verses learn,

taking, taking than in spake,

"I know we are on the same page."

The horror in me was silently,

reminded of a child deed,

the day I saw another bleed,

in similar distract.

I did not stare at what was blare,

for in the Act the Cut exact,

made an example of the walking shove,

from times that liken age to five,

the years of strange to stolen vibe.