Tag: plainsong

K

Kilimanjaro, Killington, the big K. Food as stepping to the big time. Skunked out. Goes further. On a VW microbus in the 70th reign of an old codger. Tramps and homebodies make exchange out of turnovers’ throe and the gauntlet of an idle caste into cold lounging Thebian Democrats.

Reading up on the precipitous designs of some Wintertime haunts. Slave papers of the Federalist broadside. Truth be knowing, or rather the persuasive glam disreputers of the qualm surfieting backdoor of proper sensibilities. Peradventure amongst the conquest of lies. Those suicidal trappings of almost or not quite good enough. Maybe you had better. So don’t try that again.

If the length of day in a given season’s countenance were to get down to business. Were to propitiate in the realm of constancy. Gave up the number of lost sheep to the sorrows of the shepherdess. With her spirits in ascension and the night offset by the relative darkness of unconscious knowledge. A way of precluding the alms satiety of being prepared by the wellness of sleep.

A manner of exercising in the house of dreams. Finding those functional and elavating nuances of the word and its relative frames of reference. Resulting in the accents and conditional quality of those terms patios and divergent. An open door to the daybreaking ahead.

The Eastern primacy of having gleened proper rest from the depth of field accomplished in an eight hours long bedstay. Drawn through quarters fit for dream reveries and lowdown decisiveness of consistency. The morning dew and those dramatic urges of the spiritual cast into the hourly sands making their way through the glass of a welcome night’s keeping.

When the day remits the progression of a rising Sun to the congress of what is a lot like kicking up the dust to make hazy the gathern light. Between blue morning and rosy Sunset the mind does tend to its weal. The body also must have needs gain its impetus. Extending welcome to those things of worthy exercise and the accomplishment of works.

Emotions on the side of the heart that turn the tide of physical constitution and earned completeness of an otherwise foundling figure. Also, to make a day out for the good and fulfilled, there is the quest of spirit. Be it a blessing of the Angels for their God or a recouperation of over exertion in the field of bodily rigorous and doubty awareness.

And of what does this stem? This mindfulness of those things advantageous and fruitful. Contemporary in the continued state of peace. Willingness determined by regularity of gait and foment of thoughts upon the sharing of the family tide. A moral aside and the rest of passive entities in the later days rank and file comprehension of those things learned by craft and given to care and by lore of rote.

I will save my chiding of the unresponsive diaspora for its own sake. Let the post know that there are refutations upon the score of the leaden weighted waters. That there is a scism and a stigma between the feats of Mother Nature and those unnatural tendencies to try and make propitiate an unyielding religion.

To worship a God in heaven to me seems the best way to surrender my soul to the rising and falling tide of a practice made out of prayer. Moving forward afield and very far in the daily processional of time and its capacity to make out the liberal turns of its touch with human agency.

Within this church of the earthly matters. This proud Mother of the legions of Earth. She is many faces of beauty and familiar discernment is her vast memory of the way things once were and how best they might also be brought to fruitfulness once again. By the limn and deskry of her peace, her nature, her clear ides of the middle path.

That is no onus. I say the mark of a fool cannot too long go without the notice of its parentage. If they in their role remain faithless know that the condition is really much worse. It is not truly that they are alack. It is really rather that they are a quire full of many consuming beasts.

Out of my earshot and ready to stop the presses until they and their paper tigers, their paper and fire, is just as quick mete with its remove. The word, you sense, is an old and humbled matter of typical things. The reason for liberty in its experience, for exercise in its creative measures, and for conclusion in the leading tones of its more impractical discords.

It avails all, none the less, in the simplist way to stem from praise, from fear, from experience, and from the storying tendencies of repeating its understandable means. By occasion and lesson and to a considerum at bouts with speech in making acclaims outright unto statements of desire and want of beauty. The commiserate levity bound in an incorrigible manner of a culumny to wit. Baubles of that which betides in the carolous fallacies of too much to go by.

The futile judgements of prayer. The tried over and crass notion that what becomes is at best a state of the estranged and lucky. The beat and the dread. The devil and his folly. Mi thinks a ring like that is hands down shared by the many over the few. The parallel against the spoil of loath. A lord beknownst unto sound commitment of conscious, current, and glad triage of days. Port of call and beck of downs respite lacking dodge.

Within the realm of most folks the ‘raison de etre’ is a unique concept. It becomes clearer when one realizes, when one is coaxed, when one is taught the understanding that we have a good hand in our own fate. That we are not bent, that from birth on any progressively inclusive means of raising our spirits and our children and ourselves out of the primordial soup of time manifested and life encapsulated instancy.

A system of relating one to another or in a group setting a cast of players in the guise of costume preparing and acting out the nature and elavating the notions of a determined and estelliate sense of meanings. Through the agency of its players in the most capable manner of an acquired practice.

We are not alone in our cosmic interplay of good times and hard fate. We are simply being taxed by the efforts of those others whom will not just take care to take care of themselves and out of the business and livelihood of a regular and empassioned crewe of conceivably infinite beings.

Whether we are looking straight to our fore or we have compromised our situation. Must we be bid our remove at least? This unto the general condition of consensus values. That it can be ellucidated upon and we can believe in the ability to think for ourselves. Let us seek out confidantes and have the need for a mutually resciprosperous call to respect ourselves and others in an equal and well tempered conservation. Called for as our very same individual and personally attributive existences can go on and continue to prove to be true unto ourselves, our loved ones, our community and the nation.

World renown is best left to the ages. The tide of folklorico in the histrionics of a plaintive tadoo. Given to the muse and welcome unto the uprising of youth. Gerrymandering of the suit. A gilded splinter left haywire. Finding relief only in those same sands of time that the hourglass itself remains to continue to behold.

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.

Labors Forward

Within the system of regularis and danse. There where the cold drawn width of a North wind tresses in gaits along the collar of an idle swept floor. The common names on fieldgrass make out a motley collection of jackstraws and the accompanying crossbound shadow of cloud cover in an ecocentric talisman of spinning story. Hot to cold. Top to bottom.

Insisting there must be some redemption in release. The quietude of half spent hours. Momentarily quivals with serendipity. An almost abstruse condition of fealty in the mirthful premonition of a taste for tailors and maids. The rye and sundry,  the panate type of house mice. The lour of the native garb. An intrinsic plea for clemency under the ice tides of a skyward borne fantasy.

Fourth estate typecast sunny side project blues song. A viable couching of fears illigitimate. Emigre of heady distaffs and capitulation reasonable or not. The maven of all good seeking primates. She tends to garner her resorts from the flaxen and brogue mare. A light constraint consigned to parlor trap and jazz licks of the new second line. There in the gardens of the gentle lands. A noontime cresting of the diurnal cycle. Reminded by Sudland distances into night and its music. The roping of lightfall in the bracken shade of merry roving lamps.

Another day wakes ride. The dew sotty grass almost frosted with sitting wait on the new song. A furtive notion in the concerted vastness of stride. The leathernecking of canvases and green grasses with rice paper printable smittys’. The hanging of lyers at regards fending off the lumbering trespass of the red tape leer. A lie, a saught after despair. Being taught disheartened to fear knowing. An apprehensive state of parroted monkey witch. The ludicris trappings of the suicidal kudoos. Discordant a sound of making short step pitiance out of one’s brood.

Timeless really in that its victims are not taught when to die. Being instead and through subterfuge given to greed and envy after the fate of the foreshadowed beast. An innocent going down with the tide. A far cry from the consumate chaos of indulgent sinners. All gladly prizing the gluttony of doing away with the earthly estate. Being forced to go without resource or sustinence. Especially in the guise of those upholding her sphere’s very standards.

Our fair sovereign in the proper reckoning of the univer and the salty sea of that great reaching eternity. So many close knit watches of a superlative and highly Swiss disposition. The gab and gander of profligate feet. Not lost to the quarry of head games and being told to drown in so much incredulous cheddar. Again the trappings of a very vocal kind of bewitching. That damned way a horror makes laughter out of a stupid thing and such unwitting need for trust. Fit for nothing but the slavery of the lazy, feral, and ashamed.

A most certain kind of medicine wheel drunkenness. The narcissistic phenomenon to be exact. And my own ridiculous distinction at having found that I am over it. Life! Let it ring why don’t you. Let it always brave the passion of a well rounded commitment to its best revolutionary completion. Having the love and desire to care and care well for both its beginnings, being given a place and optimism for birth, as well as its endings, those things concerning fate and even karma if you will.

To me this speaks of the great work. The friendliness and compassion necessary to make good on being of service to others. Gracious to all. Of either high or low estate and rather relying on a God in heaven to gain that reward that one may objectify in the gleanings of ambition from the dreams and wishes for a better sense of familial and personal prosperity.

Serve the masses and believe that it is a God whom will bring us our just reward. For it is a many and varied thing that resides in the guise of a humane manner of being. Yes it is this thing simply to be known as passion that brings its light to those involved in the rounds of service when considering its upkeep. When honoring its pride. And in the light of its praises all for peoples and spirits, flora and fauna, water and stone.

To realize superceded in the contemporary dalliances of its hetero arts there conceives the wrest of the ages. A turning lemnescate of the eternal rosy snake of a weal and the caparisoning slakes of those idalyc exegesis straits. Coming to terms of origination and forbearing. No swat club for impromptu madness. No septic gloom for trespass to bar the ordinary its entry into our otherwise normal lives.

No this is a state of sovereign Earth and while our God remains in heaven so our loyalty to this sphere’s upkeep will continue to be judged and diagnosed and simply observed for that continuation of immortality they call a revolutionary cycle. And both regularity and knowing a good ride will sometimes feat the lands with heroics and bravadura’s lead toward honesty of love and compassion

But do not be given over to so much as idle want. For this want is no such impartiality in the sympathetic and thus staid manner in effects of a way we let on that what is essentially always in its first rite is a call to rest. To twist this around and make it out to plaint would be like saying “Well you know that old devil. What a shame he does not have more worshippers. Oh hell yeah! Yuck yuck😆.”

Familiar I

The light. The inexorable light. The ecstatic light. The candleweight ten thousand of a poetic slam. Muses entitled. All the prilly things getting the respect they so rightly deserve.

Roses. Innumerable roses. A wide throwing arc of a many varied idle for the gaiting of syncrons. The envoliable and the berthen. Have you heard of the elegant strength of the garden insect. Shouldering such loads as are befitting of no much sorrow. A glad but rather kind of tropical offering to the ecosphere, environment, and the holy ghost.

Within the 10,000 gathered around their guru. Where the mountains loft high with their sing. No such evil herald of mere shambles. The bridgers and gateherds making out gumption of acquittal for proofs and surprise guest for retreat of the following discourses. The penchant in the jack beam. It riots with flashes and rummage of troving capraisons. Baggage of an emotional Crewe. The training days of nine to five traffickers and last ditch doggone stray sailing brainstorming boo.

A slight tornado in the prognosticators kit. Casting lazy rounds in the temptation of genius; fro and too, forth and back. Avast the monikers and winemakers of intimacy make clamor about the buckshot kings. Their trump acres going down dressed to the carting nines and dropping some to the tune. Labored of a loosen. Anyone such just might expect to rightfully come down and have want to make out good share with either you or me.

Indefinitely an acquired taste for the mantle in the root. A backward driving of the mnemonic into the spiritual accesses of too many heads out upon the water. In a tree up on stressing caresses and having you got a light for my shmoke. Well to have a go by. Maybe the leatherweight gatha of Eli’s gin. The congealed topher’s grace verbatim inn of locus utopian commitment. Borne to chattering solace of cold draught jockeys making grade away within the deadhead and under the bus mentality.

A license to wake aimlessly high into the mounting diaspora of a knack knacky going on dread desert. The justice of delusion secreted away on ops raison and systematic succoring of a sooncome fealty for sleep. Even if that foment of the dreamy tests happens to come to one upon one’s own rather two feet.

No real chump really. More a fanatically indirect mother of all feckless swimmers. Rolling in the diatribe school, philosophically funky profundity nappies homme. Leverage and the Sunderland wild hominy cakes boughten for sustinence by glad treatise folly crawlers. Busy like comparative of squelch and boondoggle. Embrace of abrupt handle. Bandy as well too. Glyph in scripture homespun down holme pride.

A placard of reprieve. This one that one either which or haver he and thee of honorific glory. Into the reach and see building the house of our very Lord. Balls out the frenetic claspings of broached volitions and synthetic cellophane sleepers. Attorneys coming fore by day from dark. The gravitas of morning whelm me over in moral values. The 1st glam, the drawn society of clever running madness.

A merchant’s quick seat. A clipping Jenny in gastronomic forces of a calumnus huzaa. Blues of windowing kettle pots. The hostage sorry and shirty dress down capers of nokay recapture from hostage arms. Holding and gathering. Gliding and bearing the dippers bear out in telesales at our equippage and beg the genius your calm.

Well in knowing no more dole from the cathecumin pox. A stellar flagrant of the treaty make on get a long Moxie’s. Doxies with respite and dawning lightfold upon the tremulous sleepers. The abased and the communal. Peaches on flatbed trucks going through detours to now face the house of saving graces in the guise of there responding travel sure sports.

The wanton and the alack. The breath fire of an insipid flow. The masties say water bends all but the showery landfills and occasional spark of tinder. Little glad louses make blueberry jam. Tunable to the froward bandoleer. How many courageous sons and daughters fled that hostage of prattle. The guts and glory of a nation. Plum fool of the silent heady changing a list of deadline periods and rifts. Storage at the garage and the attic and the local house of three lock boxes near by where there lives anyone such as you.

Leave it high. Galvanizing couriers making out Northwest passages to the great release. Deign well the fragile fisheries of the pilts down plethora of puck, pugh, and pages of vellum turning. Candy at her best aye the eye for the winners and the beachfront launderers. Each of whom must return to the bye and the killing press of contentment. Glazy eyes in availing pristine birdies be drawn.

The restive, the trust, the know it all. This a following tide to lay back on quarry and say at last sign the desert of altruism. Let go a fancy for the psyche and judgment collar released, quieted, drafted away and brought nil to silence broad and soft gliding swan.