Tag: work

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.

Awestruck 1996/01/07

The savior and the king do battle. While star struck diadems spark. Whistling amongst the chattel. This causes such a stir to shark. Laughter begets jest. In finesse none the less. For a man of naught to confide. To bring up qualms so tried. At the side of standards. Once pandered. With wine. For ables to dine. Till near death makes both blessed.

And remember the walls. That came tumbling down. Faces no longer in a tree grown. More or less watching the days go by. That made men cry. And others turn to stone.

From Nothing, From Scratch 2002/08/19

From Nothing. From scratch. From a sacred principle unearthed. Seeking absolution. From riffraff. And inconsequence. A species from daybreak. A livable scheme against apathy. Reliant upon trust. Cohesive upon trade. Consistent and conjunct. Synod testing and the paranorm. A convenient discharge. From ranks of civil servitude. A class of rigamorale indenture. The whole behemoth of thought. A Godhead in transit. A movement of the too and fro. Arbitrator of magnanimous estate. All rapping away lethargy. All subject to rally and sport. The kind of daylong tyrad. That exhibits its teeth. A chalktalk board of figures. A corporeal scene over the mass. Looking for bread to eat. And longing to end the scharade. Et al finesse in a mark. To catch the pass and seem to the like. To be of a stamped reason and choice. Single in the choir. Mattered under guiding hand. To escape with one’s shirt. To make fast the cause. And awake under dawning light. Passive against the rancor. Looking through a starry glass. And winding toward a might. In strength and bound by peace. Arright close to spawn. Those rocking hodads. With apostolic bounty not forlorn. Insight as truck in lording eyes. The cure to muckluck travail. The day in its proud moments at sound. To piece together in point. Surrounding the bow fulcrum. And chattering by the stream. Will child Surrey the cup? Will limerick assure from the cost? Of pent wheat and rye? Of shallow pools and a brook. Looking toward never more. With this interest in the calm. Of shade laden Summer skies.

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.

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.

Focus By Consensus

What we are certain of will change. What knowledge lays before us we will remember. What we can describe through speech we are familiar with in thought. In that we see we know. In one sense are two things. Dignity is the consensus of mind. An entertainment is a linking of cant universals.

The pledge of the hypocrite is the camping of the crow. One’s rider should not expire at the cost of one’s stupidity. A league in throes has not the sense of self will to lead it. The anchor of the anger is the quire of the ire is the auld mad. Spiritual supposition is an enigma without redown.

There is a need for heroic measures in the spiritual recompense.

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.