Tag: fodder

Hooks & Crooks

Trees, trees in a forest. The bastes and the herds of the hempen plantum synergia. And then again a banana slips on by. Within the megalopolis of ut garret lookers and seekers after their salts. Owing to the mineral consistency of a piecemeal degree of damasked flora. A legend of vegetal moon endearing bloodlust in the exhaling of toxins. A remove from the grade and cline overhead and toppem on the side of blowing windem seer.

If you wait to see your way down the travail, if your guts extend to the moors of a soluble character in a tolling belle of the libertad. Tied and of no ill refute. A comparison between the long drawn meters of a changing patios. Laughing at the epochial cuniform stratum of telegraph wire and freedom post.

The bluejay of happenstance goes to its hedge and nuzzles a maiden of the secure pasturage. His gal, his girl, his welkin woman of the mayfair sessions. She is industrious, she is a glad walker of the irony and agape. An olden Greek love whereby chum is legion and blowhard is the whalers’ road and good awful lode.

With a spur and chicken cross. The icabod and the caparison. The driver and his monkey say how do. They have met with the stewards of the thoroughfare and they have galvanized their steel. If anything more troublesome comes down this road we will have to abandon ship and head off for the hinterland.

Make good on our prospects and buy a number of cheese sandwiches for the children. Appease the concurrent nations of the captioned garnishment of their stride. Give the daylight hours a cup full of blessings to make good cook of thematic pots. Tbe fulsome foodstuffs and the elixers of a sound pie.

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

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.

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

Over Field And Glen 1994/02/08

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.

Join The Movement 1996/05/06

The time has come when I should join the movement. Thinking though my get up and go must have got up and went. Yet where? If I should care. Can this movement be?

If not standing beneath the gallows of a hangmans’ tree. Or as clouds high, born of tempest storming aloft the sea. I am here thinking. That it is a long road to instincting. If I have got to make this movement a part of me.

Warding off strife. Throughout my life. To live, love, and take a wife. With what else being rife. I want it shone. The way these thoughts into dreams are grown. Till our memories are honed. That each of us stands. With open hands. A member in the heart of gold band.

This movement, is it a tribe? Jah people, a revolutionary jibe. At the resting, souls of our earthly harmony. Telling what’s up. To each of us. You and me.

Change comes and we are on our own. Again protecting hearts from loath at what’s still ode. We’ve got to rise up singing. Having been brought low.

Iconoclastic Fete Stances 1996/08

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.