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.

Psychepomp Cycle

These are the stories of an aggressive and well defined circle of spiritual intentions. The feating and fleeting sentiments and sensibilities and sensations of an accompanying fugue. Both in figure and plane. The broach of amiacable contentment. That which lays out the pathos and ethos and ethics of cultivated and equitable models in the vastering depths of the sometimes lucid sometimes green field of repeal formed in moral play

What manner of being in the carbon sphere does the wrap turn to in the guise of the chant of the common laud in the prayerful days of a simple natural religion. Do not be anyone who would profane the inclination to bleary eyed take on a quick rise and to a Tee greet the morning with cheer and chuckle too.

These stories you see are like the inner fealt of a conjure bag 💼 full of tied up tricks. I do not truly know if a single 100 mile patch of ground still exists whereby culturation of the frim and fram are not of the righteously drawn consensus of crafts and folk.

Steady persons can of their own volition and in the advent of other synergies at last exit from the roadhouse into the leadened darkness of another country by the fielded hand ✋ and foot 👣 barrows. But lead us down no longer into the ranks with any such culumny of effects that would speak ill of the given discourses and featured parlance that may as well accompany this choice supplication of words, even through the rhetorically enthused burn off of hunting grounds and only just begun with the cavorting after a simple spore.

There in those sanctums and sanctuaries of the terrible wild fleece, where every good savage has their digs about level with Walden’s American Grot or the NW Passage home 🏠 of fish 🐟 oil and eskimos. The long running 🏃 weathers and those landed massies indentured to the willing turn of the chutzpa and the grandiose schtick.

To remember what is my own way rather than what is a given to those suspect whom might be filtched and lied to that there can be no way that their’s could have actually survived for the sake of there being all the many and plenty. Not without the blessing as well on those whom are to be in the proper remembered as upright and also quite propiteous otherlings in the citizenry and charge.

Faith does not turn bad or sour. It can die and it does regularly as many times as a country can count its generations. Knowing that that sideways figure eight repents and suffers and goes to the town graveyard and is always followed by yet another trip to a morning hospital. And it should be known that you conceive that immortality is anything more than the revolutions of a respectful soul.

Known that without these revolutions in the selfsame soul the resulting body of effects would enmasse with its other more squimish consorts and be caught up in a rebuff of full on cancer. Believe it. Those lies were always told to children and the embarrassment and fear of speaking on those things as if they wrote the bane of the parental existence. Well then this country would look much as it does today.

Before complaint resides anymore here than the horrific embarrassment of flesh camping out in the desert to the renig of its heralds, the moronicism of its diets, and the futile watchers of its ornate and emblematic despotism towards proper 16 church cast of strains.

Does not pass go. Must get back to the Earth and make good on the trust of experience those involved can properly call living. If there are any stories that Man 👨 and his Son can tell in the frightened prat fallen lands of a few too many nosey heels, a few too many fallen stars, a few too many wealthy polititians. Well then give that to the reign of the knack. And don’t just write 📝 them down. No these deserve to be told aloud before the astounded and the audacious. Given to the common vernacular and emboldened with the saga of the scald and the tale of the bard.

Graciously and without remorse in the naming of those things causual and in definitely resorting to the manner of entities that would narrow a field considerably. If the worst of experiences is what precludes there being any given need to enliven those experiences honestly. If some few pleasant crescendos of a recognition. A lucigious taste for feeling of sentience can be raised up without need to alter.

If the pattering of feet and the brush of a tale wag so early in the morning you wish the Sun would at least rise. This and allow you to realize that yes 👍 indeed there are heavens during the daylight in the direction of the stars. That without need or will to make it out to descry that there are still them that are drawing maliciously quick and unfortunately many will see that that unkind of dream 💭 will probably sweep away the country before it gets around to the tide.

If the covenant of those things we know to be holy is to remain steadfast in the bounty of our Sovereign Mother Earth. Then there is this storying of the psychefancy in the illimitable planning and gauges of rational endeavour. Sample this. The stories are many. They are not all remembered of mind and there are others who know them as well.

Let the new season proceed and let the balance in the goodness of Earth remember them(the stories) as each they are our own. And that that it is well to both know and fear, overwhelm and forget. Rise and fall 🍂. Inhale and exhale. Blink and look ’round the yon.

Cakewalk Into Town

When I am asked whether or not I would give it a whirl. If I am willing to see it all turn the way around. If I wish to go for a ride or even at best when asked if I would simply like to get lucky. Well then all to often I either put my foot in my mouth or I wind up attempting to dig my own grave. And if I do so happen to survive withal and whetherwhicheven if a bit. It is by the skin of my teeth and by the seat of my pants.

What breakneck pace, what surreal reel, what inclination to perceive that the rather well known means to get up there with the crow and bang the drum of emancipation is a skit-like and apprehensive means of setting back the derigors. A quaint psalter of the dipstyche and baited moot. Within the merited condition of respectus. A glimmer from the sidereal campus of the adept consanguaine.

By the time my switzer gets washed of its fleecies. When the olde lady says chillin’s is at even by the werted cloe and malarky drempt of steadfast steam. In the baring of hearts. In an unindation of storm. Who now trades in the weather fly a vane of the contented brave of wishes. The young in their wise. Somebody’s day longing idalyc friend.

As I see it the best ingredient in a good recipe must acquaint the work ethic with the memory of sustinance behind a curly red bow. If she is to continue in the regard for the fleet footed horseplay of dinosaurs then the same digest should be of no less an easement into conscious toils of starpup and reinder dog.

While the hours wreck less anymore than they used. There is still the gladfreaks and goodfellows of the patronage and ship for the new song in the way of the commons. The peacetide of the righteous sound clave horn. As the gridlock of deepwoods fat is left in the breathy den of the warrior numer of a bear.

When deep sea locks on honeypots frugally embark toward that furthest shore. As if there were only the turning of an heartbeat upon the ocean. From the upward gaze at the sun ‘neath the calm and sufficient home of the prognostics and precarious similes of the latest let it all hang out bearers of the local accumulation of tropes.

An entity of the Cultus persuasion. The Hokum and the pleasant. The fraught no longer and neither disparaged. Into the depth of field fit for release and quintessentially bound for higher ground.

What amounts to the cascading foreplay of falling light. Upon the grass, upon the trees, into most any nook and cranny that could exist prayerfully and also mindful of the entertainment crawling with the board. That sometimes we are less well in looking to close at an image of relation when there seems to exhibit the foundling response to stimulus as it quenches both repose and thirst.

There must come to pass as well the exuberance to take on an urgency of consequence to fare the call to repasse. In later days upon further stategems of the conscious meld of a flourishing setti of the galavant crewe. The meagre knows moor. What have you! But the question as to how there be by the memory of recall some guise of frequents into the Astra, the almond, and the palmade.

The gregarious walk and the infidel squawks. The few that remind to see the recourse are the burden of a cradled dew. Advance and come afore the bee anglers back from their remove. So to choose to let be at their peace what school the constitutional menanders of a revolutionary queue.

Ride out singing of the Imago and the mundi. The great remembered jaugernaut flummoxing it’s weal. Jingly jangly nervousa ricktodd through the paseos of a forested canopy floor. The wild and rambunctious rag a tag systems of the quartered and the fancy free. Out and about in the jack of all trades consistency of a driver path tread on.

To reach without wrechedness. Both the elaborate and the sinclair. A ropes and pulley means to make hoisted foisted seas of the last cannery in the row. To appease, to endure of the turning of hellish gate and evicera. To stake no more claim to the destined number of outstanding fete.

Church due where there occur the intranscience of simpletons seeking rhyme. To say yes to the landlubber and the seafaring and bridge the gap out avast between what lies hither, or thither and even fur and yon.

The last balast to make out for throw and guide. Entreating a lofty sarcasm up into the clowering fledge of the sacrosanct denizens. Conferring in their idles of the presumed after spinners’ cup for fits. Across the bow and maxing out upon the barometer. Clemency of all but the most fleeting of acrid bane wastrel bale and face and menagerie.

No more recalcitrant hammers of the gamey witch to have make glowwer or scole. Seize what momentum have you to accomplish in order to make right your path and escape the flagrant apostates in the aura and scene of a towbar and a driven casement of nails. Surfieted Interlopers of nothing doing.

Rusted now and begging the question over whether or not the day had its acclaim. The night will have it’s treetop. The next dawn will come with an air. The story, the song, the dance will settle and score and soon enough find its rest concurrent in the pottage of miller and truck. Swaggers and Sterno cans. Satisfaction and bliss

The Corn & The Vine

Rationing of reasonable foodstuffs has alway been a cooperative effort of the highest endeavor. At least in my opinion. And as that is so thus and even more so what is the reward of having chosen to let the Earth flourish and flourish abundantly.

In order to better affirm the writs of my langours into what betides a fitting parlance and rhetorically speaking to do that up in the conquest of those things I may allay one with another in some hopefully good sense of simple resiprosperus action. The holding of coats aside any who do not aspire to reeve at the commonweal with the matters of feeding a nation.

The many hungry from the seclusion of spirits and seeking the comfort of a daily prayer. In so many ways does this eventually lead you back to the simple need for one’s stover and draughts.

By the merry tide of expectancy. In the gladsome raring of memory with the potential to expand the witness of selfhood unto the realm of all the many possibilities for compunction in the masting of cates. Rite assuaging the guttural truncation of a time to refresh. Acquaintance with this paradisical continence and the accountability of breadwinner does not leave one alone for the reach of faith that is steadfast in the actual belief in what assists us to exist lifelong from birth onward.

Should we by the time of responsibly and satisfactorily safewise and manifesting maturity of aptitude. Larder enough to turn with and discern merit or otherwise bear in the functional indemnity of terce branded cross or incrementally the moniker of tenderness and viability with gumption and cheer.

To see is prayer for guidance in order to mature to the point where one may be responsibly sensible. The extent of the adventure that we take in grasping our becoming is neither to be set aside in the way of good company nor what sanctimony there is in a familiar table or the head and nut of interspersed manners of assembling our needful store.

To greet peril with props for the drama that fate is in our core and what grounds we have for enculturation of those same endemnified characterizations is no real trepidation but a put on. Give up the caveat to the gerrymanderers of later days. Nothing to say 💭 is a pessimistic way of airing that moot is the worst and most egregious feeling of being a lack in a world 🌎 of untried respites.

Recipes for reminiscence amongst the mingling days of a well drawn interlude. At such a juncture in the day and its diet we should guide the foal and the pup to remit and acquire the gnosis of a fitting condition for continuining on with good relations succinct in the convivial art. At while the wanton or bereft may hale other shores. Not to tell the dam to break before the Lord. As well the faith in a happy grave supercedes its soporofic need for contest.

To eat and to eat well. By God Thank you Lord

Synod’s Eve

Cattails and reeds. Goose feathers and down. The levee on the pool. The weather on the Storm. Northern climes, the bog, turns from without in looking from the wide to draughts upon the wind. This concertine of apathy has fish morns to look over the moon. A sundog howls with Western dreams. Venus breasty meads the listing tide. The ocean wall resounds with deluge and icy freeze.

There are the aeon and the mileu. In that now is awarded the heretofore matter commending pony ride swagger and truck for the unwary idle dismount. A Corniche inn makes out with the train of mediant pines. Jack fruit is firefly. The ochrest jiles pedía flip qicks and hires. A linger of bobs skills a pecker their buggy ride to muggy digit wood.

Olden hammer and the scenic flow. A quartz diadem makes out giving rave spirit to the rolling tomorrows’ wake. With every evil befitting a wrench monkey left and the precariously ajar lid of á rusticus cully bough in the nondescript portion of remaining foodstuffs out of a moldering tin can.

All that deposed quantumineous agra dab. The green overflows. The muskrat hidden in the skinny and daft daisies. Máx mudgeons idiom out testwater lea. The ganders’ there wicky upper arcane gladness. With a booter and a jug the grand bloom in dizzy tinctures passion.

Step awry in dime draw and scurry your mully pie 👣 over the footfall. Situado amores los piedalias quinton. Saphire goes mission down and plugs in his dress mop. She must be kept sabor.

The newest griller a lexithumb gets bitten buffet style for mass of laúd and dreams. The bonnie wait has no time for plodding drives of South darker houseknot to greet with her herded. No and guessed the content carters de mi hast a caster anders and plucks. The hissy bugaboo japes and monkeys. Mister skanse the limit ripens. The ousted camps a diurnal spleen.

Midnight holes up with dreams gone dawning light-press. The stamping absurdistic stagecraft goes off with doggers chips and spackled exegesis in the name of consequence. Left your morning to be wrested from the sleep of good olden pan. Mustered 🍞 in the garage and grunge of back room studio gloomers’ reprieve. A sunshine smile and the end to the repeat.