Author: johnkeransiii

Cantus Abilis

The shade, the winning link. The one that the presses chose to go by. Whether a lemon still belongs in the tree or is it now got for the white picket fence as well. Taking part in a long and ornately drawn series of parades. There in the flight zone of the aviary and the walker of clouds. With the amalgam and the parlor fan. The frequent restitution of query.

The choice to be dishonest. To what purpose and to what ends. The spectrum is rather broad. One could simply choose to look out for another. Then again one could actually be trying to frame a loose acquaintance in their own feats of death defying grace. The relation with God whereby prayer and supplication along with offering and petition are led up toward the alter of receiving the divine into the heart, the loins, and the mind.

Somewhere like the chakras. Less mottled though. Really giving to each other the plea of dissemination. In the step taking, in the free exercise, and with all the tenderness and care that a loving set of open arms could give you. With these precepts in the rational field of change. Whereby no trespass is survivable in its own unnecessarily divergent and nasty want of a constant state of quarrel.

The need to make it out to change comes upon us again. It asks for the familiar. That which is in its essence a turning of the ephemeral charge. Blues and sunshine yes, but with the impression that not all will stay the same. Day by day through much seeking and in making out no such feckless saltiness in the take on the universal and its broad ocean swaths. With the rivers and currents both breaking up on the shore.

Long on the road is the way of the kenning song. The certainty that a jackdoe or her friend the muledeer can light up the marquees and spotlights on this man’s new run on the long Broadway. Walking with the sides and asides of the bully tom boss lumber yards. Inimitable given to the pathos of the tourists and scapeys. A penchant for the abased tonality in the transmission of freeweight and dummy’s bell.

Continuum, inertia, and perpetua. The glad free former in a gladdened gait of highstepping. Along the wickets, along the thickets, in the pitch and keep of the very blossoms’ troe. Down lengths of animate forested path. Fortunate as the believer in her garden. Looking over the lost crop of apostates prudent at the death of their pig. Does he still need that ring in his nose? Must his ears remain on fire and will he ever see straight so much again?

I must be sure the laggard slaggard aces remember their five finger discounts. So much for the name of fire. A supposed fallow light where the tramps have to excuse the trees from burning, the animals from dying, and the human flesh from conceiting itself and say please let it all in. Slating up karma and reciprocity for devil worship. Earth body disease point lye. The inquisitive lie. That must break the bough from its wise, from its nature, from its instinct.

A broken West heisting its own satisfactory course. The ride pig and her hustle in the slave yards of the forgotten sonambulist ditch. Stray dogs barking, braying with mules, howling with the wolves at the moon in the mid of night.

Kettle Bell

Looking into the gloom in an amusing and songwriting kind of typecast need to presently go about the ruins of this late war. Without fatuous displays make good on my coventry and in God’s good service, try to at least, to bring about weal in earning my wage. If this need to attest, to query, to make good on promises and petitions. And the descritory confluency of ramshackle husbandmen speaking of womins and lambs. Also Clara, and Elsy and Bessy, and May.

That the fielding of ryeman and crossbearer go passable into the drink and are reliable beholding unto the pools of a shoreline ocean at low tide. Good enough to collect supplicant realities of the rolling sands and the cut loose bottoms. With currents of the old whaleroad coming to bouts. Drawn upon the sea from the outlet of rivers worldwide and deluvian in their release to the high spirits. Clowning the rafts and jambs in their escapement of fealty unto the campus of those broad waters.

A crow’s harbour of the woeful and right to pity. A last ditch effort to get up to snuff in the lackaday and upright and relieve the hoveled and the pinched. With the nuance of charming clatter and the charge of a hospitible drum. Hoops and solace in the turning gait of independents’ that quivels and spits, burns out and fiercely requits the display of teeth.

With every other semblance to the reel strayed out to a glen of the fielding career. The gear and the Wright’s foot. A kings’ ransom for the fearing of civility. The goat’s head soup of a cavalier and assuming despondency. How it clears the roof and supports the filch for his carrolus innurement of medicinal blends and denatured tinctures.

A breadth of cover inclement to the diaspora of run down streets. The emblazoned recalcitrant, a stuffed goose of the bonnie pike. How now brown cow. Where does your garten frail its picts? Are the wicked and parsimonious the same flagrants of repasse as the rioter and his ill acquainted dogs. Not to die outright but within the guise of the earthly church. That sovereign empowered in the creature beats and elemental scions of the dutiful and fruited.

Surrendering to the clandestine hinterland of subjugated viands of green. As if the running down of burr and tawn. Where in the sidereal cogent of placer rhymes and cordial assays makes good on the all to often henpecking of dispassionate qualms and painted glare of a south going mystic.

The book gets thrown. The laurel crown it falls along with the thorny and them gone up and died. Only the ivy seems to understand the apparent lack of penchant honesty in the tooth gnarled pugh and quarrelous hangers on. If you don’t know then you are a lying fool. Got no real need to identify with any other than the devil and his Satan stick. Always in repair and high tallying to the tune of ignorance too toward earth-centric consistency. A regularus mood disparity amongst the locus of illegitimate sinners. At taught with the steal of the official broken plate diners. Without, the gone mayers just continue to place their jimmy the crow spinners and say I me mine you stupid farce of Witchhazel and blazing beginners. When the lie ties off it is at the betrayal of its persuasion. Not too many freakshow winners left to bring in papa his review of the wicked kempt treats.

No most of those people wound up kicking themselves in the head before they could get out of the way of the mess they were bringing. Eh? What’s that? No repulse for your thoroughfare. But I thought you were assuaged in your horrendous reprieve. Don’t tell me your back here for being such a complete pain in ass was all over again. Well the sickness of disease does enjoy the voluntary slave. Much booty to go to their bouts with chainsaws and watchers and in short order bring on the remove of the shrubbery. From its reminder, from its satiety, from its mien.

Wise Gymnasium Treats

Once, when I was 21 years olde, I went to sleep on Christmas Eve, in a Gynasium with about 60 other people. It was all gentlemen and we were in Los Angeles and the gynasium was serving as a men’s shelter. I was in the middle of the room. I had an acoustic guitar and a backpack under my cot to worry about but given the general report of murmering voices in the candlelike light and the wealth of good Holiday spirit that all of seaside Southern California is known for, I worried not and slept through the long night. I believe it was about 10:00pm and I think I slept until 5:30am the next morning.

The entire trip I was on had started when heading out of Eugene Oregon, looking for a Thanksgiving Meal to go to with the folks at ‘Welcome Home’, I had misplaced the road I was supposed to be on and was faced with the possibility of traveling quite a bit further and took that opportunity to continue my trek. And so within an additional day or two I hitchhiked all the way down to Santa Barbara CA. I arrived downtown late and caught a musician in need of some help with his gear and to thank me for my service eventually offered me the ride that would be my final leg into the city of Los Angeles.

This was specifically Venice beach where I can remember simply walking out beyond a cement outcropping into the sand to seek my bed. There with a tough camping sack and upon finding a depression in the ground I fell until morning into restless blissful dreaming about Tinseltown and Hollywood. Hearing the waves and some few nightbirds I was able to get to sleeping a good night’s rest before the rising Sun and the sleep in my eyes woke me from my dreams and showed me to a good and really new kind of day.

This is how I began my five week stay around the beaches and on the streets of Los Angeles in 1989

Labors Forward

Within the system of regularis and danse. There where the cold drawn width of a North wind tresses in gaits along the collar of an idle swept floor. The common names on fieldgrass make out a motley collection of jackstraws and the accompanying crossbound shadow of cloud cover in an ecocentric talisman of spinning story. Hot to cold. Top to bottom.

Insisting there must be some redemption in release. The quietude of half spent hours. Momentarily quivals with serendipity. An almost abstruse condition of fealty in the mirthful premonition of a taste for tailors and maids. The rye and sundry,  the panate type of house mice. The lour of the native garb. An intrinsic plea for clemency under the ice tides of a skyward borne fantasy.

Fourth estate typecast sunny side project blues song. A viable couching of fears illigitimate. Emigre of heady distaffs and capitulation reasonable or not. The maven of all good seeking primates. She tends to garner her resorts from the flaxen and brogue mare. A light constraint consigned to parlor trap and jazz licks of the new second line. There in the gardens of the gentle lands. A noontime cresting of the diurnal cycle. Reminded by Sudland distances into night and its music. The roping of lightfall in the bracken shade of merry roving lamps.

Another day wakes ride. The dew sotty grass almost frosted with sitting wait on the new song. A furtive notion in the concerted vastness of stride. The leathernecking of canvases and green grasses with rice paper printable smittys’. The hanging of lyers at regards fending off the lumbering trespass of the red tape leer. A lie, a saught after despair. Being taught disheartened to fear knowing. An apprehensive state of parroted monkey witch. The ludicris trappings of the suicidal kudoos. Discordant a sound of making short step pitiance out of one’s brood.

Timeless really in that its victims are not taught when to die. Being instead and through subterfuge given to greed and envy after the fate of the foreshadowed beast. An innocent going down with the tide. A far cry from the consumate chaos of indulgent sinners. All gladly prizing the gluttony of doing away with the earthly estate. Being forced to go without resource or sustinence. Especially in the guise of those upholding her sphere’s very standards.

Our fair sovereign in the proper reckoning of the univer and the salty sea of that great reaching eternity. So many close knit watches of a superlative and highly Swiss disposition. The gab and gander of profligate feet. Not lost to the quarry of head games and being told to drown in so much incredulous cheddar. Again the trappings of a very vocal kind of bewitching. That damned way a horror makes laughter out of a stupid thing and such unwitting need for trust. Fit for nothing but the slavery of the lazy, feral, and ashamed.

A most certain kind of medicine wheel drunkenness. The narcissistic phenomenon to be exact. And my own ridiculous distinction at having found that I am over it. Life! Let it ring why don’t you. Let it always brave the passion of a well rounded commitment to its best revolutionary completion. Having the love and desire to care and care well for both its beginnings, being given a place and optimism for birth, as well as its endings, those things concerning fate and even karma if you will.

To me this speaks of the great work. The friendliness and compassion necessary to make good on being of service to others. Gracious to all. Of either high or low estate and rather relying on a God in heaven to gain that reward that one may objectify in the gleanings of ambition from the dreams and wishes for a better sense of familial and personal prosperity.

Serve the masses and believe that it is a God whom will bring us our just reward. For it is a many and varied thing that resides in the guise of a humane manner of being. Yes it is this thing simply to be known as passion that brings its light to those involved in the rounds of service when considering its upkeep. When honoring its pride. And in the light of its praises all for peoples and spirits, flora and fauna, water and stone.

To realize superceded in the contemporary dalliances of its hetero arts there conceives the wrest of the ages. A turning lemnescate of the eternal rosy snake of a weal and the caparisoning slakes of those idalyc exegesis straits. Coming to terms of origination and forbearing. No swat club for impromptu madness. No septic gloom for trespass to bar the ordinary its entry into our otherwise normal lives.

No this is a state of sovereign Earth and while our God remains in heaven so our loyalty to this sphere’s upkeep will continue to be judged and diagnosed and simply observed for that continuation of immortality they call a revolutionary cycle. And both regularity and knowing a good ride will sometimes feat the lands with heroics and bravadura’s lead toward honesty of love and compassion

But do not be given over to so much as idle want. For this want is no such impartiality in the sympathetic and thus staid manner in effects of a way we let on that what is essentially always in its first rite is a call to rest. To twist this around and make it out to plaint would be like saying “Well you know that old devil. What a shame he does not have more worshippers. Oh hell yeah! Yuck yuck😆.”

Familiar I

The light. The inexorable light. The ecstatic light. The candleweight ten thousand of a poetic slam. Muses entitled. All the prilly things getting the respect they so rightly deserve.

Roses. Innumerable roses. A wide throwing arc of a many varied idle for the gaiting of syncrons. The envoliable and the berthen. Have you heard of the elegant strength of the garden insect. Shouldering such loads as are befitting of no much sorrow. A glad but rather kind of tropical offering to the ecosphere, environment, and the holy ghost.

Within the 10,000 gathered around their guru. Where the mountains loft high with their sing. No such evil herald of mere shambles. The bridgers and gateherds making out gumption of acquittal for proofs and surprise guest for retreat of the following discourses. The penchant in the jack beam. It riots with flashes and rummage of troving capraisons. Baggage of an emotional Crewe. The training days of nine to five traffickers and last ditch doggone stray sailing brainstorming boo.

A slight tornado in the prognosticators kit. Casting lazy rounds in the temptation of genius; fro and too, forth and back. Avast the monikers and winemakers of intimacy make clamor about the buckshot kings. Their trump acres going down dressed to the carting nines and dropping some to the tune. Labored of a loosen. Anyone such just might expect to rightfully come down and have want to make out good share with either you or me.

Indefinitely an acquired taste for the mantle in the root. A backward driving of the mnemonic into the spiritual accesses of too many heads out upon the water. In a tree up on stressing caresses and having you got a light for my shmoke. Well to have a go by. Maybe the leatherweight gatha of Eli’s gin. The congealed topher’s grace verbatim inn of locus utopian commitment. Borne to chattering solace of cold draught jockeys making grade away within the deadhead and under the bus mentality.

A license to wake aimlessly high into the mounting diaspora of a knack knacky going on dread desert. The justice of delusion secreted away on ops raison and systematic succoring of a sooncome fealty for sleep. Even if that foment of the dreamy tests happens to come to one upon one’s own rather two feet.

No real chump really. More a fanatically indirect mother of all feckless swimmers. Rolling in the diatribe school, philosophically funky profundity nappies homme. Leverage and the Sunderland wild hominy cakes boughten for sustinence by glad treatise folly crawlers. Busy like comparative of squelch and boondoggle. Embrace of abrupt handle. Bandy as well too. Glyph in scripture homespun down holme pride.

A placard of reprieve. This one that one either which or haver he and thee of honorific glory. Into the reach and see building the house of our very Lord. Balls out the frenetic claspings of broached volitions and synthetic cellophane sleepers. Attorneys coming fore by day from dark. The gravitas of morning whelm me over in moral values. The 1st glam, the drawn society of clever running madness.

A merchant’s quick seat. A clipping Jenny in gastronomic forces of a calumnus huzaa. Blues of windowing kettle pots. The hostage sorry and shirty dress down capers of nokay recapture from hostage arms. Holding and gathering. Gliding and bearing the dippers bear out in telesales at our equippage and beg the genius your calm.

Well in knowing no more dole from the cathecumin pox. A stellar flagrant of the treaty make on get a long Moxie’s. Doxies with respite and dawning lightfold upon the tremulous sleepers. The abased and the communal. Peaches on flatbed trucks going through detours to now face the house of saving graces in the guise of there responding travel sure sports.

The wanton and the alack. The breath fire of an insipid flow. The masties say water bends all but the showery landfills and occasional spark of tinder. Little glad louses make blueberry jam. Tunable to the froward bandoleer. How many courageous sons and daughters fled that hostage of prattle. The guts and glory of a nation. Plum fool of the silent heady changing a list of deadline periods and rifts. Storage at the garage and the attic and the local house of three lock boxes near by where there lives anyone such as you.

Leave it high. Galvanizing couriers making out Northwest passages to the great release. Deign well the fragile fisheries of the pilts down plethora of puck, pugh, and pages of vellum turning. Candy at her best aye the eye for the winners and the beachfront launderers. Each of whom must return to the bye and the killing press of contentment. Glazy eyes in availing pristine birdies be drawn.

The restive, the trust, the know it all. This a following tide to lay back on quarry and say at last sign the desert of altruism. Let go a fancy for the psyche and judgment collar released, quieted, drafted away and brought nil to silence broad and soft gliding swan.

It Is By Attempting To Bring About The Singularity,,,

It is by attempting to bring about the singularity that people capture their most sussinct image of ourselves in the throes of our craft and we are thus best branded. That distinction of consciousness. That subtlety of charisma. The very fine and high meter of one’s personal effects and really driving home the whole and real reason for capitulation and surrender in the first place. We know that we will be judged and if it affects how we allow it to touch our feelings it will soon become apparent in how we are treated as well.

For we really do happen to stand outside of the general familiar with communal spirits. And in the accumin of personage, in the bearing of those standards for our craft and our spirits we are well to admit that circles close as well as they do open.

If not to say anything more about it than we eat our crow when we have our own foot in the proverbial mouth. And we soar beyond the elan of the zietgiests in the ragged but right way our temerities and wandering pathos are met with bye and bye. This at the tipping release of efflusion into the pondering of one’s own recondite gatefold midlife crisis. What is further defining of how now it is our path to an admittedly acceptable reign through the acquiescence of ascension.

Having passed on the ecliptic of the Vulcan pineball trotter and going the rounded diamond back to home without striking repasses of a formidably pangyric proof. The levee is no longer on our host, the maven. Who gazing daily upon the lawn as if in a scheme of prophetic acceptance. And as well in countering trouble by waylaying thoughts of a deluge that here anyone knowing participation is also them of a mutual and chi matter at personal attendance toward detail. Even at the affectionate interplay of touchstones alighting upon reminiscence and rare invited intrigue.

The age of the adeptus and all good company thus inclusive in taking up launches and verily secreting away the arc of that career path. Becoming likewise arcane and more robustly stout realism. A gainer of a subjectivity gone hard. Lowing ilk and the commizeration of playing the gaited ball fields has too within its cheer a sympathetic gauge. Now the look of a sometimes bleak, sometimes dreary road in from the country to a local set of streets.

Swift on the mall of a dog walking, a person jogging, and about 3 assorted riffraff doing their best while. All sitting under a single tree singing in their present tone the dirge to the vapid ages. Concerns withstanding of those presently attending haply amongst the consideration of business during the time passing.

Some few necessaries to make the best out of clemency in weathers also become apparent. Giving into one’s bedfellows and thus of an order to secure the initiative of possible outlyers for countering, philosophically speaking. This the train of ardor usually included in making due with the confab consensus. Each character heading up the camp and rapping with one another merry in the guise of passing ’round an afternoon hoot.

Not to get noticed for anything to quite perfectly historionic or verbosely thrown out of the mind in some offhand extemporare. And worthy once again of mostly, gladly, tything discerned their little church pew out underneath the daytime stars. In this the sublimely well cast, and by rote, from most beautifully kept veneration of a synod for its sugar.

Also of a simper and a wan and a smote kind of peeling at a more accustumed preparation for this laughter,,,, In being, the wellness of simple humanity adjusts really to hanging out parkside today enjoying the local brink of skilly scally closetkeepers and their tea. The levity of time wellspent is a passage of euphoric temerity and subconsciously drifts from numeries of selflessness to the very uptake of charge.

It is romantic and it is a founding. It supremely bows before the faith and does not stress beyond its mean. It is a satisfying and solid turn of decency. The passion it demonstrates is made out to welcome. For it is both timely and a beautiful thought. That respect I would trust and that indiscretion if it need remit is a sane and so soluble function of refrain from one’s own shame or fear. In tune with becoming one thought, one decision, one peace of holy and inequivable uninterrupted mind.

Going Down On The Grange

When Winter tidyness does not the stur assuage. When borderline frequencies don’t make out their want of a king to just any olde day. When the wine imbibes and the ale fades away. Well then how about some heavy sleep. Big time dreaming hum of a bus wold rolling down the great hiway. The dream, the interlude, the bright honors of a psalmody passing through. The rapture of humdrum, homespun, verified downtime.

The freshness of Spring, you see, is a feared thing, a scurrilous far off thing. Let the bunnies and the floral honeys plan for their roosts down in the comb, yeah. But let us not wretch at the fodder of our very own imimitable handles on the hours’ conquest of respite. If nothing is to be planned well then plain and simple nothing is to be garnered from without having its way.

A levee on the honest accords of want. To need to find a taker on by the shot loe tasking of recurrent shift in the pleasures of soon somedays returning to one with the fief of one’s rider. To go out on the lawn with becks and maybe Is and to guest with both the flora and the fauna of Mother Nature’s now open again lodges.

Completely in line with your wishes, mind you, and yet with her head above the waters in a way saying. Take it and take to it well. The wrest is that of sleep and no great and obfusicating burden of redown has need to bring anymore than recourse to the simple need to draw bridges before setting to many of one’s batches out on the tables.

Can you imagine the thoroughfares all opening up, just that famished, and saying Mamma feed me. My belly pocket is so empty I am squimmish to so much as lift the 1st of your wonderful cups of tea. Must have something from the larder to go by. Cereals and their grains. Dairy of cheeses and creams, the carnivore barkers and the fire of their most conditional lights.

Links set up one by one and given to the truck and bumper. A tilt a whirl sound of hot ballsap pine. The broacher in the loping gait of accustomed foggy woodland breakdownd amidst the sunshine. A kind of magic reserved for those things top drawer. The climactic exegisis of one gone tolerant head of the bobs. A booked sooth of mindful ribs and bouts.

The japing old monkey’s 1st Son. Glad to be held up to the discernment of ordinary and enviolate realms of the environment. In both locale and voice committed to the fealty of no such overdrawn solution. To the quick with you and loud. So that you will at least remember having had it as if things or rather familiars were going otherwise.

For the duration and of a destiny to more than survive. To prosper and to let go of and to outwardly receive those gifts in the light of jests. On the floor, between friends and older than the hills in their suggestions that these quips, these pips, should be more than convenient. They should actually in fact be saved.

Courageously and with much vigor. Lest the abased seat of time should have to quake for having not been given proper time to awaken from its lengthy drowse and commit to new joya and daylit productive hours of the steppy and the smiling phase.