Twas a pitched course. At moving down it. At a breakneck pace. ‘Twar like a rare goat. Essential in the scape. But I hung in there tooth. And nail. That tried to turn me. From my weil at a round.
The goat saw a fork. And we made our escape.
One wee heel coming to level. And the other ready for. A good stomp downy at ground
Two cars turning. One right after the other. Moving through a clear space. At a crossing of the streets.
Dogs sniffing the corner lights. In passing only. Waiting for a quieter reserve. To let themselves be silently released.
Spit fire-open contest. And he in his attire has chosen to gather with the par event in horizon.
When will the Zepher attract its cohorts? How shall Ecumenicus return to the deft renown?
With a jiff of the trick. So up air hardy you’ll not rather have them sick.
Each with a one of his exhalations. Providing explanations. And the rippled speech of your common seer.
This I say has entendre closer to sense than any ultimatum my dear.
A clarity of space. Some hilarity in the race. A gander at the stock of our neighbors. A daily listing to chores through many labors. To reeve forth the unguent. To reap broad stars of lusty pent. A divine conflagration of peoples. Over broad passes and many steeples. The makeshift predilection of towers. From loose shrifts, the humble bowers.
Cavalcading like streetfell hippies. A curry of fell dashes from a sky paints paths trippy. Het diagramatical lour embellishing sheens of the topical spheres. Tectonic arch craftsman at the gears. With thunderbolt and looming shrouds. The way they stack up they’re as alive as the clouds
Run free with the wind in the fielded glen. Fast as a cloud with a few minutes over a valley to spend. Then rest beneath a few trees with hints of azure skies above the boughs. Or bathe in the cool of mountain streams during spring thaws. For such occurrences I bodily strive. Bound through nature’s eternal struggle with happenstance.
To keep my life I write, I sing. I fly as in a dream with birds on a wing. An augury of flight. Innocents of the night. With our lives like ritual and a foreboding sense of might. Where we will land to the predator there is given no clue. Simply a fact that this story continues later is true.
What we are certain of will change. What knowledge lays before us we will remember. What we can describe through speech we are familiar with in thought. In that we see we know. In one sense are two things. Dignity is the consensus of mind. An entertainment is a linking of cant universals.
The pledge of the hypocrite is the camping of the crow. One’s rider should not expire at the cost of one’s stupidity. A league in throes has not the sense of self will to lead it. The anchor of the anger is the quire of the ire is the auld mad. Spiritual supposition is an enigma without redown.
There is a need for heroic measures in the spiritual recompense.
On Autumn nights when the rye in the fields has been harvested and put into bundles. Merrily and with stealth comes the cather of hay into the rye. To garner away the faith of accumulated clave ceps of purpura from off the stalks. The bundled stalks of rye.
Politicians would argue to keep the clave crow on the rye and let the seekers have their fill from the milled grain and suspiration throughout the year slowly drawn along. But the cather could refuse and go out to pick a many lot in order to brig back the letryses of the garland with him to make out well in doling the larder of his accomplices. The gud stamp of the dance set.
Occasionally when propositioned by gypsies’ and their ghost and when they had enough some was given away. At the want of the best specimen for ingestion. Simply they are were boding of the thrown chances in a lucred plight. The having of dances in the arms of iconoclastic fete stances.
The politicians realizing the light coming long before dawn. Stalwart in doubt as to the wind weaving of survival in their grain stores and stirs. Wondering without refrain and often shunned. From the interior country where the travelers were known for coming out with the laughingstock of the rogue and rambling, the revelers and a rake.
The fact that gypsies had their own sundries of a tailor and wine to speak of the vintner of bleaky sun aum mantra chant nourishment. Taken heartfelt to dreaming child gait and sweet reminiscences. With strange calender romances they would thus have their dances in private on mountain sides beneath the moon.
In a word. Slammed! Mother Nature’s own son get out the tackle and using it to raise up both his arms. Still righteous and real heart rending. Oh but to make your query of the air. That same thoroughfare as the gospel messages. Given to flight by the birds and their unassuming breezes. Chill and aerodyte. A systemic set of ropes echoing clear. So bound by obstruction. So well fielded as to give strata to its broad sweep. Of the passages, the waterways, the landsdown way of catching tails midnight. A stormy concatenation of modernity and reach.
If there comes back to point, that poetic license is a dealing in proclivities. That meander before stealth is a cataclysmic reprieve from the dunder of a simple and shy hunting. To wink in the age of fascination. To be given to charmed reckless havocs. In determined causality of smelling a quaint blueberry pie cooling in the breach of an open and unguarded kitchen window. If the belt of a hefty broach said making good on the bibard, the penchant, the hustle, of gray eyed and stumbling dodgers.
There has been up till now a good amount of experience to remit the wealth of the common unto the dominion of the reel. There are not again as many oogling codgers to make off with the coffers of the house of justice. More of a due concord in the way that trees buffet and sands sift their dross unto dirty rain. A fitting contentment on the board of believers although still being thwarted by the contest of deserts where there are drowning and the mar of realities when there is not to be found a drop.
Life. Were it raised up behind the stump to reach the conversations of leading tonic and tones. The wistful and indeterminate in their contesting figures of art. The very air above can weal and turn in broad and cavorting temptations. While the given nature of the past time cross. If there are to be more sheep in the fold. Well then if the keep of their hearts to shelter will continue to bleet at their mistress like lambs. She the one to see to their high mountain passes.
Between faux geste and the solar bearing of a kept sort of universal time. Broad out across the waters beyond cliff face and hungry rocks of the reef and fallen takes on the humble towering of the above. A season to take off the normal chains of our intuitions and accept the vocalizations of a consulate. The remaining ephemeral traipsing of a bandy few to their watches and their wait.
To blow the horn of yesterday and remember the Winters release of our dreams to the Summer gardens and the liberty to make good on one’s time. Well spent and garnering both a memory and a taste. For the blessed sunshine and the greenery of the tree and field. The forest in its vertical ascension into the guises of the upward and outward skies in the fair above.
Humane reliques of the earth’s sovereign past. What hear you of these things in the modern theatre? Are the children as bereft of honest charge as the carbon copies? Will the exhumed gold and silver ever get back to rocking and rolling in the turn of the soya count. Dwindling remnant of bones. The contained. The remittent to the even flow of things being tied.
An inhibition to say 💭 things vulgar or not competent in the rhetorical schools foundling. A certain distaff of effective trepidation. How the long going frequency of knits and assuages makes out in the meticulous banter of birds. A gathering coming to the North and its dawn. Fastidious displays of leadership and non sequitur. Each indelible peace in the histories of a nation getting up off of its knees. To embrace the weak forces of nature and say 💭 that Mother belongs on the main. Giving respite to those whose call 📱 goes not unheard.
Commingling in the effervescence of ryman tropes and current metaphors. All glad the ship 🚢 is not sinking. All bayofully at scratch with their devils. Making way in the trades of the music. A grand and verbal contentment in the acclaim amongst the tables of roundabout friends. Each good fellow and glam doll rolling on the crest of the waves that beat on the shore outside.
A Summer house not much fit for Winter’s pasturing. Often the nearest occupant is a dusty ghost. Making out his day on the back of a couch. Meals, rest, and entertainment. Each portion of the day boiling up together into a fust of appetites. Those favorable memories in the mindful exchange of greetings between passerbys.
The quarry of asides deems hesitation break for the wing out upon the tarmac. Its green Sunshine refledged in each clover found to bear its four lucky leaves. A pile of salient drawn salts. The digs of a roving mendicant. Making out garret and grot to the season and the clement weather’s train. An obfuscate and trembling now couched citizen. Gregariously close to the vanity of the lady in her arts. She does not wish to sing alone. An entire choir of the angels making progress out upon the waves. Headed for that furthest ignoble shore. With seed and stamina the new land meets expectations and the olden horn is blown to remember those whose tread fell before this shift of carbon.
This sign of the spiritual throw. With the momentum of a loose flying goose the beautiful and the emblazoned in a rapping flag comes down to a mire of resorts and treats. Withal the blessed pension of a midlander keeping a verbal sentiment in time. For the wait is a look back over one’s shoulder and a barrier with out needing diverse concomitant to hold the hand of the cantor. If we can simply release the bear from the trap. If it were no emboldened goof that limited the exclusion into subsequent divestures. And so the glade is made glad in renewed wander through the dance. Stages in the phases and character roles of a tramping and well spoken crewe.
Fellow friends in an accustomed gate. The North end of the city proper. Where the organic food trucks come into the market space on the square. Near the warehouse that have been refurbished into living lofts and organized corpus of indemnity and the good book 📗 to crow by.
A better dursted landsman into his continence and sharing withal. Concurring streams in the operators style. A realization of a gone 🏠 despondancy in the rising Sun. With bluebirds singing of their happiest schtick about the shrubs and groves that turn from garden to plot. A liberty to wear a new t-shirt and turn the old one into a rag. The best handle on the jug keeps a cork in it. And the olde hound forgets the bitterness of her more frugal appetites. Lets on that she is no more a chaser of rabbits and their tails. Now she wanders behind the child to see him his way down to the schoolyard where the child will bid her take her leave and go. A saunter and a saserdotal memory for the each of them to go by.
Familion. Fidelity foment of a lady. Frequent financing of our fair flight. The practice and the folly. In measures ironic and full of trepidation. The pick axe anti of torque bucket quest. And the pull of favored feat.
There is not another semblance in the stand entire that does so have the errant and his regard. This is nonsuch to charmers. And graduating braids in the average set of hands. To go ghosting the breaker with watery eyes escaping. A mark of touch and the rich sleigh.
The rogue martyr and tramping bunks. Catching a road haulage pitch by. How come you to your book of pages be got. Where ur he with of you more. Your reach in a candor and sithence affected. Set of sheep’s passes. Scene of mutt hotshot and boys in the barley. A room for the dogs and ditch cat for our next miss.
Any pathetic tourney in the bailing wire. The holy booked sooth of hydroxy. A worldly trips besty. A vesty sure and victim’s ta thea sport in the sparks. No ordinary tapir in the aetherio to ya nare. No Sir! Shaw’s a luxe and pitchy wheat hour’s proof.
So to begin within the dream of a rational authority. To qualify the moot matters of hoopla. With the goose stalking actuators of a clucking box. How’s that for the hoity toity baker man hatchin’. Do you think his will be, the plea, of quarter or truck? Maybe yo and hokey macks so pot.
The vanir and muley links are downtown clowns. A real mistookin’ breach of decorum. Ta skir your sourpuss a bit quinty too shaken. And should show you out of your frock and band. Let loose thee pucker and shwee.
See and sense and have a good carrying on. In your livelihood and longevity. In your relations and shape of things. For we are two simply in the comp desmense. Of alacrity and extemporare of the pewtin’ flower. So miney and mim to set thee aver.
I am nascent and no such divergent. Either from the converse or counter. What maybe called fun and games. Will in the wide ring of eventually. Become the ordinary and the norm.
So avail me the right to forethought. And I shall bring you to the awareness. Of an accustomed geste. Be sure I have only to term the rain. And to frail press of what crows. Really so free of the matters. And a dissertation come round to this end.
Personal Writings 