Tag: familiar

Eureka Discerns Eppiphany

Eureka! The matters and consequences. That must be pro-active in the way the cross is turned, in the way it is situated, in the way that it rides.

And ride it does. Like a loaded wallet on the backs of two shoulder to shoulder mules. And you are their skinner. Westernized or not you have a dream in the band. The good life comes on around here each morning at Sunrise. Where all harmonies are set in tune with the hustle bustle goings oncoming of day. 0nly the grave arya that is Earth lays beyond. Where is the very discernment of that contentment.

How shall we go about it. The general returning to the light. Upon the morning, in the air, and on the sea. Dark soiled Earth remains pitched in the the carrying sack of the traveling sage. To greet one or another persons, as a passerby or a remittent friend. With salud! And Hola! Bien. Y tu?

I am looking for a garden and it’s gate. I can hear the birds chirping within and I know the smell of it’s flowers like a familiar lady’s posie. But I cannot find the slip that is the gate. Do I need hop on one foot, shake out my arms over my head, get down on all fours and crawl? Possibly the gaits of the walking path will lead me down a road less traveled and in exploring the melee of divergent courses I will wind up in my own little garden. With it’s waterpots, and tin cups.

I tend to enjoy the great outdoors. I also enjoy the great white North. So some compromises have needed to be made. I have needs sit by the stove to warm my feet. I have want to burrow down beneath my stack of blankets in the overnight. I care to rise with the morning and put on my Winter duds and make good on another piece of the calends round.

It would prophet me a loose goose to try and put forth my better efforts today and stand firm in my offering of the ready helping hand. To give aid to those whom are living only a partial life. To stand by those who are not fulfilled in either the reckoning or acceptance of the choices that occasionally have to be made about one’s own fate.

Prayer!

An idea. And a good one. Yes a real gooden. No, I am good.

Prayer,,,

Thanks!

Cogni

Peaceful, easy and full of sympathy. Nomen C cogitance in bloom. The valued expression of namesake. Given to the bedding down of horny deer on hilltop of a downtrodden grass. I could write her a letter of the diminutive type. Emboldened with sweet displays of incredulous wit forsooth. The nicks and foils of a blaspheme free truckload of the peach.

And yes the bond of infrequency has the bent of too many out of hand referrals unto the treasure and trove. Many glowering torpitudes making out like cuttahacks in the Hessian stream of a distant fugue. To take on ourselves the hawkish means of recognition in the fields of pasturage. With the tresses bound to all go enjoy the decent and arriving. I hope to see you all there with as much chutzpah and contest as could be found between a cricket and a racehorse.

To battle it out clodhopping their way around the ripened track. With touts and crafty schoolwork ruse. A cogitance in the nervy way that bellows can swiftly steal a fire from the blade. To engrave the phrase upon it’s broad. Left to crow’s singing charlatan mouthful and lifelong chum and carousels loving.

Maybe there is better less bitter way to come into the power of knowing. But very few people ever choose to give it a chance. They want concrete throes, pavements, and the host of indelible answers to go by.

Stop it! End the charade and the axe grinding and the folly of blasphemous the ruse. End it! To be your own better helper and friend. The good old fashioned reason to look down in order to look up. How so? Have you no confidante? Are you one more b-rate study in chumps or just a bad date? The world must know the difference between service and ugly minded people out to take every law advantage of the freedoms of their fellow man, and woman.

I do not merely see. I sense. And the control to acknowledge that to people of trust and not those we don’t is the difference between a tailspin and a long, slow curve. The thing is, most people,like it or not have very little time to pay attention to the natural flow of events here in this earthly circus. Not to mention that besides those who would just as soon we blow it out loud asses.

There is also that contingent of greedy eastwards who do not believe in freedom at all. Once discovered by the average Joe the fact is that that schmuck or duppy, which ever side of the argument they find themselves on, only has enough time to tell the lie. That great work of all malicious people everywhere.

I myself am of the mind that we all really need each other to an Earth’s short ton degree. Farther going there and much to becoming here but the truth that for the most part we are best left alone and to our devices. I know that recognition amongst the fallen and statistic. If fishing the pond of mankind is moving closer and closer to the cheating side of the slack. In their ethics and relations and how they choose to take part in the upbringing of others. Chillies. Chiel. Youngins.

That is enough for me. The world will at times still find her children are trying to throw a wrench into the works but that’s the fucking business. And like it or not the mass and that part of it that is black is giving peoples the business. The haunting line of freaks driving down the line behind the wheel of their own destruction.

Nothing necessarily truthful remains that can be said on this at present. I know the care of my namesake amongst the ways of my brethren as together our revolutions continue in the guises of a dear Lord and I know the blasphemous tide that often surrounds the Christ. Other than that there is the fine lot of life’s variety. Mystery plays it’s hand a guide and herald falling in love with someone to spend the glad days espoused and caring for the chillies come of that kind of care and foreboding.

Thank you very much. I will be here all week. Lol

UtChat

Children roaming streets playing with sticks and stones. The laughing old lady gathering her chips for another round of bridge before heading to table. The good life looked over by raging gyms and sandlot dollars. There must be a ride in a truck. The glossy yield must dramatically incalibrate. Must lick the palms of the icy eyes. Too many sharps and they are only to make us out for our skulls. The shaped anthema of the Mexican ranch.

To see the street for its dusty quarters. To come up with spiels in the dithyrambs. A stories glory horder. Lets go and take a quick equator trip on the liberty tide of open house service and see if we cannot make out the women and the cogent of the place like chiel sanctimones. The Billy frame and the psaltry bow of scythe at lee in the tinsel lair.

To be a good bit past the running ground of disporters. Caravaning on the Davie Jones typography strata and tableau show. A good high hog to bitty and camp out against the speech, quit and borne, right mariner of calmer seas.

So many black orders on the peace. Packs of people and dogs on the new morning wandering at pesky and yet profound galavants of the old school crowing. Fish, fucks, friends and difficulties remembering. How many daisy chains to go kicking down a little something getting home. Rehearsing my roll in a story. Not to always be taken for some jack fool but rather to go over the lands down way and dream of the high returning tide. Too much grass and the park reverts to the transient church serpents pride.

The vert is crow for fodder of cry. The shire and the foremost stumping of rye and foundling punk. Have you a moment for singular expedience. Or are you afraid of being put down. Some reason that shied away. Some bottom that turned away shunned by shame and future folly.

If it goes to show that we are Sun worshippers. Why stoop to make it rain. Just saying the local host of provenders must be supplicated rite lightly in the aspect of quintessential norms. Glad to see you good charler. Beneficent is the grange kind sisterhood brag. The bias is in redown. The judgment seat is out of candy. Collaring the doge leaves citizens at leave with the call to aptly turn over a new leaf. With the crazed blackeye of rubbish. Sad lot of the current meatpie.

Well to get over the fencepost. The splayed feet beneath the camper mountain. Only the damned need to know more. The fleet is out to pasture and the grand eloquence of the buttered bread condolences have eaten the flag to make potluck and pilfered treaty out to bustling gates. Railing and trouncing beasties for so much as a teaching of their own good appetites.

That a way the glad barons have graves to lay down in. To simply be alone and no longer try to estrange the bussing services from their bluebirds. It has to be going down for the frickin’ pale of it. False prophets for false fear. The burning down of the firewall. I knew the ground was there. It just wasn’t mine to burden it.

Left Field Of The Mind 2002/09/18 Wednesday

Pretty eyes like children’s feet. Hankering after their parents for a special treat. And I at work in my uniform. Reading over an occasional worm.

With a partner to my poetry discuss. Over treks to the city on the bus. And take to friends in their room. Ten bucks to use the broom. And then back home to my cottage state. An apartment at a humbled rate. Of rent and sustenance for savor. Far from having to borrow or ask a favor. Closer to sharing the inside. Closer to baring the heart alive.

It is for a timid sum I have been at this stead. With many a page coming out to be read. By friends and family enkind. These things from left field that weigh on my mind.

What Ease At Burdened Time 2002/11/13 Wednesday

Sight unseen departments of religion. A government with a lot in tow. Feed Thebian poor, treat the Ionian sick. Cure the ailing and relieve the woe. A man in a big house. A dog gone to a matt. A fireplace burning aglow. A warm and friendly cat. Doctors for the mind. A supplement to care. An occasional bier. Friends accompanied to the fair. Stress of the working day. A load on my back and mind. A partner to help out. A customer treated kind.

Here is today. And here is my life. I would include the good spirit. I would find myself a wife. How far am I in introversion. How easy would it be to hide my time. Where is the house of paper goods. May I continue in my time. Where am I subjected tu. What grand title have I met out purloined. I am more practical to the object. I feel it in my groin.

Drifter 1998

To lay Down ephemera. And offer one’s hand. Turning around the dreaming. Drifter asleep in the sand.

Oh for the apple tree. And it’s Windsor dales. Seldom eld wending figure. Of burdened bead. Yet soon to prevail.

Police are not scary. To those who have now slept. What night’s peace is now fit to carry. For those here who have laid down to keep. Have lain down to weep.

Open Contest 2000/02/05

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.

Cloud Clarity

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