Over Field & Glen

Run free with the wind. In the fielded glen. Fast as a cloud with few minutes over a valley to spend. Then rest beneath a few trees. With hints of azure skies. Above the boughs. Or bath in the cool of a mountain. Streams during Spring thaws. For such occurances. I bodily strive. Bound through natures’ 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

Discourses & Parlances

Talk about the rhetoric. The happy hunting grounds. The Stargate and the mountain’s song. Play up Swany river in the tremblings of an outbound gestalt. The theosophy of trillobytes.

Plagued field hockey consort. Team efforts to make it out to the fair show. Grand Gypsy eloquence at tapping in the goal. Here we are amongst the lipped and the laundarer. Make out good at reading scrolls of potent bone fodder.

The good old mission church treating chillies with brimstone. The image being supplanted by its fiery host. 60-400 ways of gauging the illimitable and the folk geste in its plurality of the remit in the casual extant.

With a guest book of the tripping high and mighty. The recondite demand for pompus license. The fate of the big, bad, Boston Creme. Sitting on the counter like a rematch fridge keeper for the Associated cops on their pedestrian beat.

Walking to the sound of image. We are all real good keepers but he is steel on the link iron asserted. We will to brave the clement of notions. We turn out to look through the daylight heats at the supposed rabbit tales. Them whose lines mix up mastications of the pouty coyote bitch and her new collared brood of babes..

Its a spinning take on the raptures of the well cultured. Its a grasping at the scratch of molecules. The permagrin slide of matters own horn. Amounting to as much. The general opinion that surveys the lay of the land. Spacious, airy cappadocious labors making out for the broad waters.

The semblance of flying opining choice with too much fodder. Telling the whammy ball to requit the dodge of aces. Give and get back. Like a silly putty gamut runner.

Having made out for the gangway and spilling down the beltway like rainbow man and his emissary, the brave cloudwalker. Trip it on down along with the ropes of a fiddle roger. Let be flying clout in the peacekeeping efforts. Also in the block and quizzing zingers for the ambergist and viand pouring wine.

Tumbling blocks of woo. The procrastinator’s will is to carry his bliss to the moon. Where chi anthems are no hour of exploit. No the weir of staying is vouched for apparent in the musings of the sobriquit of folly. The OMG realization that I should have started a long time ago.

Burdened By Beast & Truck

The wallet whines and the wind assails. Slack sails on a doldrums salt watery sea. Crossing the lines of ocean that will never be drawn. Contracted with shipmen and society and with one’s babe. A crow’s nest passion. Taking it in with the extension of an ocular. Cloud swept, passionate,,, LAND HO!

It’s fair to say the river ran high. And that the tide ebbed low. It was a mammoth in the ice since time began. The scrolls of our jailkeeper have the guise of ashfelt lytresis in the tradition of their teachings. The mole scurrying across the floor has fallen on hard times.

You see his pride pig exterior expects to ride but the church shot his horse. Then they set fire to their braying mule’s tail. Foxes wouldn’t suit this jack Joe. No they need the butt of a joke to raise their 10,000,000,000 billion chillies by.

Ever and amour the hoar grass bets on its nervy rack of pluck. The land is a mission alive with the bayoful round of a doggone heaven. The lot of its terminal awareness caught up in the gutsy beliefs of its new sown children’.

Every iambic lamb willing to mow grass. Every swisher’s tale within awkward instance of a throe. Every atypical trafficking fly. The variegated depth in a rushing of damask for choice spots on the floor. The leaf pile instigators no longer treeless. No hot in the spot of jumping beans. An over the top wrest of the aviary and wreath. Coocoos said it best. The time is best now for a rest.

The countdown to infinity. Going nowhere fast and then some. A reminder of all things once saught after civil and and a time to begin again anew. Nothing disharmonious left to be undone. Left to the party of mischievous arborist whom when given a seat say just plant it. Never to chose who choses to deceive it.

Dawn and daybreak. The lit up new sky. The borne upon the doorstep. A gift of mystery to the new school. Pinters of the apt boon and new kith. While spirits counter them out looking for their swain.

Emotive Thought

Love agonizes over a throw. The into the dark pitch of sounding from off of a far wall. Reverb and chorus. Later days in the sanctimony of the even and its prop. How intellectual could be a keeper of shadows when the sun shines from on high right down into the middle of the street.

God Bless it I say the driving feat of proud footin’s mucho gusto. The reverence for the tide rolls up on the avenue. While the boulevard is a closer draw to make for headwaters of an amble and a saunter and those at mission for the night’s perpetuation of a memory and involvement in a sojourns’ rest.

Ya think? The emotional value given to abiding in the redemption school. To see the vehicle moving forth at a hounds foot pace. Having been given a taste for the bag and sent out baying. Trying to keep a good attitude in the dilly dally tide of darkness. Where outcry is going South through the country. Looking at its cross streets both up and down for vague salvage of a more personable commitment in the saving of face.

Let us not implement our own destruction. Let us look at that 60mph and 80 yards and twenty foot tall brick wall without having to seek a thrill. Let us stop on that dime and drop it. Real good and hardy. With wine bottles answering knowing corkscrews.

If the overwhelming feature of the bullies on the base say it is all too ephemeral to have a wonder about it to go by. Then let it dawn sweetly and looking back consider the rhythm of pacing. This and leigh out modicems of modesty in taking it up a clip. To let out the great force of breath we have only to exhale and let it go with a ‘shweho’. That is the one in her dance. Skrying madly to the beat of 10 dead bass drums.

Without regret never have want of answering the question again. Move on with your bad self and your selfsame looking gate and your mindful choo choo. I think I can, I think I can wwwoooOOOoooeee. D

Does it help anybody to truly be alone. Is this the long dread fate of our humanity. Even here in our Summer home. Wheat for sages. A single grain’s speculation. Left to entrain the repetitions of manevours given over to sexual prowess. Given a crush that rhymes with sport. Laid out for rest like bedcloths. Carrying the pocket stuff tryptyches of our son the train conductor.

Simply to mention the great tunnel of love coming up for today’s amusement park ride. All for the condition of make believe. A national obliging of the blind consuming marriage of nihilism with reality. I think it somehow vouchsafes the sweat for the racing fears of the tourilous American.

A lambaste of upstarts. The frequent of turning pages making due with storied wedlock. Into the garden of a realized set of fears grown over with weed and wildflower.

The womaning of grange and rucksack buck. The payback for great temperament. Tides of escapade having simply learned that the old gray goose is a good bet. One of the quickier, quackier ways for children to run a circle and make it their own.

For release, for concord, for fantastic requital of past kingdoms and loose tabs on the dreaming of catchers tales. Them still resolved to remain smitten with the bull, the bear, and the blue jean.

Hardy, har, har, the end went unforseen but the Sun continued to rise and the rain fell from the plaint. Flippy wiggy foments of geste flew the coop and Troubadors said good ride. Blessed rest of Wintertimes in happenstance. Glad in a sack and dreaming to the last of better times ahead. Faith thus making it through night after night until Spring.

Scratch

Twenty-five fiddlesticks. Batches of grindstone hatchets. Court & spark. Copper kettle bodhi augury full of skylarks. Lightness. Brightness. Elevation in expansion of light from out the gravity of a humble Earth. The langour reigning in distinct guises upon guises over the moldering core below.

I cannot vouch for their being drawn. The viable legumes into the bread snatch. For use with the masty kates. To make illucidations upon monogamy and parallel messages of a chemical peace. The brothers of the league. The wake against the dipstyche and depth of field. It’s rolling its clairavoyant bath to the fluted pipes of the outre hierarchy and into the sun setting to the tune of auburn skies.

With an upheld lack of preoccupation meant to go delving into the wells of a selfsame misery. Where are the country bumpkins in the rosters of the arriving gait. Within its own crow of diviners. How many o’er the lough and salty. Into the season with chickle and baubles schtick. A gambol of the resurrection sang.

Gripes of the forelorn. Kicking cronies off of the roof of the bus. Enough of your flacid wash. Too much to speak of until the silence is realized. Then par for the course. See there are dampened now a good look over the admired ethos for the click of their heels. Three milestones away from the frosty cream sideshow stand.

A solid walk for youngsters in the crawl. With guidance and honesty of respects taking on burdens of a thespian crewe. This umpteenth glad to meet you aggression on the metaphysics of ascertaining in the mass. Involved in those cycles of a veritable tradition of original and prefunctory need to take up the sunshine of a Welshman gone a souling. Working in the guises of earth church and the many commons out the walk into glam pasturage and weatherable countryside.

Even flight can brave the expanse its delight in the daemon. Make condition and trust the wealth of concerned experience by the allowances of chore. To be seen forward and advancing. Crawling the footpaths and hillocked meadowlands with patience for the butterfly and compassion for the frog.

Waiting on the tragi-comic kiss. One of occasional sages. Meant for legends of mystical plurality in spirits. The passion of gentle men and women now made bonafide and succinct. To bear out in truisms of frank and efficient taking of the good stock. Fit for resources and the leagues of country well put to rest in the gleanings of the Linden wood tree for the green.

Said no more for its onus but made out to the great work and substancial. Done, well, fit for cree and made steadfast by acceptance of remittent blessedness in the bough and it good company.

In Competition With Convenience 2000/09/09 Thursday

How does one enter the public domain? Do those who have their rights reserved? What if I were to cross over into the public domain? How would there be someone to escort me, as in a service?

Write, write well, and you will come to this posture, this passage, to lay down extant your remains. And don’t over worry how it will go for the next artisan, the next participant. The next person to feel those thoughts, to hear that saying.

For some it will be a higher power that draws a link between you two. Between you and the next or even between you and a someone who came before.

But if your writing doesn’t work out and you find you have no such rights before those thoughts. And feelings and sayings slip from your fine fingers back into the ground. The common acre, the open domain. Well then maybe you should try Algebra.

Give A Fig, Define A Tree

Climbing. Ambling. Delightfully walking the bout around in my day. Talking and walking and exhorting great sympathy for the changless grange. Jeez! Someone get the old bear to go on and roll over. How romantic yes. But the glazy eyed sleepers are in an expressly dampened portion of the official roost. The dank drabbies have only more to accustom themselves with the caress of breezy time to know that a tight spot is remiss. That is to say there is no holdover in nights’ cahoots to run implored. The self knows. The day commits. And the nights do pass.

Scale and wages. Full on passion directed toward the thief! Come away from your spoils. There is no foul play that has needs be labeled cheat. The higher ups on the wagon into town. Going to get a barrel or two of the local snuff juice. Hope the rye is key to the holdings of the house. Born on the well side of the measure and containing the elemental and the anodyne.

A blazon making quick exchange with the sky. The players in assay with their weight. To bear it away and remove the stigma from the pie. No steal for the crickets provender or striding locusts to take from the honey pot. All welcome to partake by the course. Bound sellers in their market stalls. The great trading halls laying out tender for surety. Promises for security blankets. The leader of the pack backing down before the hallow heart.

Bees knees! Your burden is truck. Waltz right in and pluck that flower from the wall. And the next one! And them ones after that. A box of hats doesn’t strike you down from your mill. Leave them same sorrows of efforts to the greetings of salutations.

Pick up your gear and don’t lambaste the seasonal climes for their refrain. So thus in not furthering the extent of consumption by placating one’s footprint there. You have simples to live and let be.

Accept a little light into your hearts. To acknowledge is to recognize is to gain acquaintanceship with a level in the upstanding mind. If you are to don your cap and fly please just don’t buy Crow pie for the pandit to outfit. Please give to the reeves of your village something more sublime and yet still subtle. The hopes of a generous thane are in the compass of your faith in the new survival.

That can be respected and and let go of. Oh but for the repasse of flighty birdsong from the arid reach. Beach sand deserts. The just and virtuous. Sinclair and succinct. By measure of dose. A gone deal gone down. Those rites have passed. Et al fine and so gone.

Curmudgeon petitioning their man of God. Take the pulpit MAN! Free up this savage race and don’t commit your trespasses here again. The Gods in heaven have no time for your blindness or your maddening exalts either. The day to apprehend is the one you must wish to pass by.

That is the Seeker and the earth for its salt. What ocean’s remove would failsafe such an implausible breach of candor and decorum and those things strangely relying on the drunkard and his wine. California in the old days the passion play of quiet mountain running ships. Make for town and fuck yeah!

To blame the professor for a bit of bad luck is the fate of the Hempseed and the Buffalo. Dagger reaches for his loom and espies the crumby ropes. Mofo of the pentacle set. A manner of putting on your own suit. Still In the service of others but blind now and fooling. Beating that glad drum with the best of them. Bang, bang, hey wait a minute! Why do you want them gone. Did your ill spoken mete not head your Mystery out. Did you have the last laugh?

Taking advantage of death and all that. Goodbye snafu. Goes to show your weight replaces the gold with drose. It is a smidgen gone and you have to bitch. Woe unto the beholding lank of shifty sand dollar alibis. You knew it of the Lord. The mercy. You might as well accept it of a good woman. Don’t you think?

It Amounts To As Much 1999/04

The ziggaret.The pyramid. Holy Mount Zion. The snows of Kilamonjaro. The home of the God’s Olympus. Highest peak in North America Denali in Alaska. The now fallen peak of Algonquin a traveler. Sea bed mount of the tropical Hawaii.

The grammarian. A woman of reign considering her offspring. Easy to know by the simple calling of their hearts to beat. And what is the Universal lot of such good fortune? Who stamps the hall license with their mark? What claven homes of sacristy in a plethora has on its horizons the coming and going of trams from the Mythraic fleet?

Have the swaro let racks of pierced hearts in on raven swells? Snip jiggle wits it is ubiquitous consternation on the larboard side. Rope a chord and keep on flirting logical. Divulge in you feld set of space. Or like our Lightfoot who snaps a twig and culls. In the periodatch a Flanders house and a vestige of root quenched.

The rosy cross. Buddhist confusion between maldiction and henchmanship. Dharma-order toward truth. Brotherhood of the Rosy Cross. Esoteria of the Astral court. Fete in bannered height. Decisions of the snap were forward in effort. Werewitche. Shipsafe and stock sure. Water from Senators. Law rights. Corporate business. Hillbills. Money in stacks of stocks.

7 turns. Celtic Abreya. Arthur and the Hallow tree. Appeliac Amperfin. Intercalery twain dexterity. Taos, 6 were 9, Mercaba, jackals and the oxymoron. Folex. Oden & the Aeon are One.

Los Angeles general going back in time with a chipper for a soldier. Tabok of Emmanuel Lieber. Ane, boo, cree, dor. Emmanuel Lieber. Tabok of the creed. Descry Attenuate. Upanishads. Samadhi and Satori commingled and mixed. And the workings of the language semantics. Octave set of semantic structure should be brought to accord with forme fixe solfeggio. As well as the Universal Octave.

Me & My Like

Heart rending sorrow and exercise. The compassion it takes in getting along with those in the manner of life. They whom are relieved to hear of your progress yet to whom one does not ask of the refrain. Courses amongst horses. Making out good and wise sense in the extant of their mind. In there goose fletching and the churches they place on the rock and on the hill.

Secreting a way the vernal axis. Making out a good place to set aside differences and get down to meditation. To come promising. To give to reason and its powers enkind. A veritable tautology of feating glades. A glam exegisis upon the cultured bough. The road is not for the weary my fine camper. No it is rather a conditional peace indeed.

When the leaves on the tree are flourishing. In the spring tide as they call it in the Northern climes. There is an excitement to find out who is the herald of the event. The gopher? The Robin? What about the fox? Up and at ’em babies! The glide of pacified wings checks its Jay at the door. Crossing these streets need have be the bane of the iconoclast. To no longer care for the filcher and the varmint. As quick as a dash and bent to feature it no more. Reduced to b-grade popcorn of the jiffiest kernel and poker’s fork.

If any more tribal lore has need splay my possessions then know I will be at the fly of a feather to make sure the reward is my proper wage. How about $10,000 dollars a show. Just the songs and chords will do ya what is necessary. And when all cheap excuses for vagaries have been exhausted well then end your day and lay ye down and take a proper rest why don’t you.

You have needs do that. See.

New Life

The newness of life is an exquisite mean. A birthing mean. A meaningful way to gain existence and hopefully live a meaningful life. With certainties of feeling

The fishes swimming school by school. All look to the opening again of light. The passion of the curmudgeon and the cogitations of a welcoming to the bow. There are fresh ancestry queries in the quire of the lumber pulp. Them that are gaiting the check out steps of the feat, already wandering. So in gazing through at the repath of a lay-back train time pleasantry. This of talk and laughter and token footfall grinnies out the welter-weighting windows of an electric eel spanning the crossroads and streets.

Within a moment the blessing of the hierophant has come to pass. There are freedom birds outside crowing and cawing at the flight of their singing neighbors, the more melodious robin troupes. They tell themselves, it really is in generous tithes of an Earthly church that the sovereign dei comes out upon her porch and lays claim that night to an alturistic and malleable clamor of want and further acquaint. But if the overt dispatch of runoff water is a pelt away from the snow falling from that bow and dashing the strewn nettles of an abased Scotch Pine.

Then the wild child has a catty nine to win the row of street houses. Turning in a wheel through the mazy neighborhood of around the block kids. These who adapt to their surroundings by outlook and gaze over from inside the moving frame of windows and above wheel. Or else on legs and shod in conventional tough-outs fit for quick corner-cuts and flat out straits.

The want of an elder in the designs of throe. Emotions that want another pass. Through the dailies of a soon 🔜 familiar regent upon our seas. Clandestined compasses and the blowing end of a great white North.

Looks like no call 📱 to tragedy has to put down this boy. From his new acquaintanceship with being and further coming into the light of his path through our tomorrows. That which plays out beyond the genius mean. Odds on the carapace in the hall. These walls shine with the long stretches of sunshine that fare the way across the hale of such safe passages. With scenes inclusive a twice regular turning of the season’s manifold. Sometimes even catching a prism in it’s escape across the hallow contentment of a strider’s happy home.