• Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    A mild deliberation puts a conflict on the table;
    For the most part, discussions are rather stable.
    Duly complications, in a heterosexual dominion,
    Find gentle self-doubts–with dubious opinion.

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    A mild deliberation puts a conflict on the table;
    For the most part, discussions are rather stable.
    Duly complications, in a heterosexual dominion,
    Find gentle self-doubts–with dubious opinion.

    Suddenly!…a disturbance dominates the scene;
    A vocal eruption astounds ethics–with demean.
    Sweet and congenial, though intentions may be;
    The blunt truth opens a mouth, that cannot see.

    The flabbergastic eruption, by a cute lil’ dimple,
    Overwhelms the personality quirk–like a pimple.
    An indescribeable prank, with a sizeable mouth;
    Undoubtedly, impresses hard critics–some how!

    An impelling urge to squeeze–this popper head,
    Stumbles over self-defensive words–to be said!
    Words form sentences…into paragraphs galore;
    But, a hodge-podge ascertion does much more.

    The mouth commences to expound–a surprize,
    So that written terms…refuse to draft such lies.
    A diplomatic speculation…defines Mister hodge,
    While a stressful counterpart attends Ms podge.

    To bite the tongue…is a heterogeneous distress,
    ‘Cause an external pressure spills a bloody mess.
    Raising the shield…to deflect this verbal attack,
    Only bounces gossip to throw the surprize back.

    More or less, the conflicts are to be unsolveable;
    For, who believes gender truth–is unbelievable?
    An obvious angle–to make this plain and simple:
    Pop this aggravation…like a personalized pimple.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Fleeting-fancy sits pretentuously bold within your eyes,
    Portraying an image-of-truth…in a declaration of lies.
    Even though the world is a beautiful creation to behold,
    Things great-and-small are compelled to growing old.

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    Fleeting-fancy sits pretentuously bold within your eyes,
    Portraying an image-of-truth…in a declaration of lies.
    Even though the world is a beautiful creation to behold,
    Things great-and-small are compelled to growing old.

    Vegetation beautifies, and provides food for the appetite;
    Fancy the passing of history, so eaten up with time.
    The human mind desires contentment–with a body to be;
    Then, this world so real, becomes unavailable to see.

    You rest upon a mattress, to absorb your daily sleep,
    Beating down the springs that wear away, at least.
    Temporarily, you wear old attire that cover the body;
    Apparel decay converts your coolness–into shoddy.

    Memories are transit–place-to-place, saving memories;
    Return and accumulate again…by adding to sensory.
    That vehicle mobilizes your life–moving here-and-there,
    Deteriorating existence, as you pause upon a chair.

    A brief moment of foolish-fancy assumes to be invincible,
    Revolving with the world–a solid rock-of-sensible.
    Substance-of-matter cannot be destroyed permanently;
    Rather, earth is forever changing form…eternally.

    The true value-of-life depends on a supernatural sight;
    It is a journey beyond the realm of day-and-night.
    Possessions will slip away, as the mortal food you eat,
    Through the powerful results of a sovereign-spirit.

    Since all things pass away, look deeper to lasting-worth;
    Sensibility-of-thought leads-on…before your birth.
    Study the invisible world, that holds earth in its power;
    Receive your supreme grant–to live another hour.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    A mind that will not endure wisdom,
    Fails to understand sacred freedom.
    Trials assault the foolish temptation,
    Drawing a conclusion by persuasion.

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    A mind that will not endure wisdom,
    Fails to understand sacred freedom.
    Trials assault the foolish temptation,
    Drawing a conclusion by persuasion.

    Manipulation is the key to substance;
    Subduing natural powers in a trance.
    Suppose will-power advocates good;
    Then, abusive attraction alters blood.

    Blood circulates a fool through a rage;
    Distorts the scene on a mental stage.
    Just as a bullet interjects poison lead,
    The rage renders a fool–mostly dead.

    The capital cause for foolish behavior,
    Is that, substance isn’t a valid savior.
    Commitment to a flight of butterflies,
    Will fail to understand the capital try.

    How could wisdom be a friendly tool,
    When dead behavior is seeking fools?
    If wit can’t fit compatible with sense,
    Applicable intelligence…is non-tense.

    Would-be fools, pause for a thought:
    Substance has no right to be bought.
    Change the mind, before it does you;
    Don’t do…what you are about to do!

    Before a fool destroys the will to act,
    Perhaps sense will gather some facts.
    A matter-of-track–the record shows,
    Goodbye to the brain; there she goes!
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Notice exclusively…designs of a woman,
    When she secures security from a man.
    Created, as a man’s dependent station,
    To survive the sweat of man’s creation.

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    Notice exclusively…designs of a woman,
    When she secures security from a man.
    Created, as a man’s dependent station,
    To survive the sweat of man’s creation.

    Woman expects attention for her beauty,
    By forging demands on a responsive duty.
    Though her behavior…is hardly some trap,
    Marriage legalizes government–on a sap.

    Trap or not, her virtue relies on a finance;
    Whatever the chance, it’s a costly dance.
    A real government-of-substance–her way,
    Traps security…as long as a man can pay.

    Prostitution will shade a woman’s touch;
    Attracting security…from a willing bunch.
    Money commits man to a sweaty chase;
    By a govern right, she endures the pace.

    Sarcasm!…explains the proper complaint;
    For, the sweaty brow denies a holy saint.
    A woman’s way…isn’t crooked as a snake;
    Her growth is fertilized as a governed take.

    Man has no right to deny the female crook;
    She married property as recorded in a book.
    Her man can earn more; so, she gets it all;
    Otherwise, she’s a social menace–in a fall.

    Worldly substance…was not made for man;
    The sweat he drops, is intended for woman.
    She traps the masculine eye upon her looks;
    Finally, she tenderly takes him–for a crook.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    As the world turns, the sweat rolls off;
    Arteries squeeze–for a chokin’ cough.
    A burnin’ sunshine entices a funky run,
    As the laughter loosens a ditzy tongue.

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    As the world turns, the sweat rolls off;
    Artieries sqeeze–for a chokin’ cough.
    A burnin’ sunshine entices a funky run,
    As the laughter loosens a ditzy tongue.

    There is much devotion that’s required,
    Before a sweaty brow becomes retired.
    Rewards are charactistics–of heaven,
    Where forgiveness is recorded: 70 X 7.

    Even though sweat endures to the end,
    The past depends–upon a future blend.
    Fools rush-in…to stake a pompous claim,
    But rewards wait…for the sake of blame.

    Proof-is-in-the-pudding–of living whys;
    Beyond this world…there can be no lies.
    The world is lubricant–of diligent sweat,
    ‘Til a few cruel demands are finally met.

    This sweaty place is a time for true laws;
    Man’s labor yields a heart with sad flaws.
    Alas, why forsake rewards–well earned?
    Does the world fool the mind…by a burn?

    Prosperity of man, is good for the taking,
    As long as earth is not heaven forsaking.
    Fatty conditions compel the rule-of-land,
    As the plow rolls over the sweat of man.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    When it is awfully hard to be right,
    Everybody has two-bits to share.
    Opinions can float through right,
    Like interference possess the air.

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    When it is awfully hard to be right,
    Everybody has two-bits to share.
    Opinions can float through right,
    Like interference possess the air.

    If ignorance could be a golden mine,
    They would stick their nose full-of-it.
    Power assumes to know every mind;
    Wrong is right, when they’re full-of-it.

    They have no interest in what you say;
    They’ve already said it–their own way.
    Change a better way to their two-bits,
    ‘Cause your naive opinion does not fit.

    Stealing through all these bits of crap,
    Requires some opinion-proof road map.
    Stink is much higher on the power-list,
    Aiming to put you in line with their fist.

    Business could unfold rather smoothly,
    If noses got together to smell the crap.
    All you have to do, rather persistently,
    Is fit your niche into the rejection trap.

    Rejection is a natural test of the nerves;
    Keep steady…when they throw a curve.
    Try to decipher all those confusion jerks,
    For jerks have a right to demand a quirk.

    It is absurd to assume the right opinion,
    Since time travels in this bodily dominion.
    Blind authority presses the right-of-way,
    So tread extremely lightly–opinions say.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    We wallow alot in man’s dirt;
    But, Heaven planted us clean.
    The search–behind the skirt,
    Asserts, that God isn’t mean!

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    We wallow alot in man’s dirt;
    But, Heaven planted us clean.
    This search–behind the skirt,
    Asserts, that God isn’t mean!

    Man labors with this ugly world,
    Though heaven reveals beauty.
    A double-gender: boy and girl,
    Matches with some ugly cutey.

    We converse of smut…upon a butt,
    Where God attached the legs.
    Many words translate nasty stuff!
    But, the body is a pure snag.

    Love is an infatuation…of lust;
    Depending in God’s judgement.
    Precious souls…of golden rust,
    Slight man’s noble commitment.

    Fear is a monster–mortals reckon;
    But alas, God disarms the devil.
    Courage shows the order of peckin’;
    True love…is smooth and level.

    Wasting this time–tearing down,
    While God constructs a nation.
    Every soul who breaks the dawn,
    Raises a banner–of salvation.

    Wallowing in man’s dirty mind,
    Deity tolerates the condition.
    Though man appears to be blind
    Beauty cherishes the creation.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Behind every stressful man is a gender-split;
    Delusive minds of the sexes, just…may not fit.
    Waiting!…like vultures hanging up in the sky,
    Systematic powers…pamper this defiant cry.

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    Behind every stressful man is a gender-split;
    Delusive minds of the sexes, just…may not fit.
    Waiting!…like vultures hanging up in the sky,
    Systematic powers…pamper this defiant cry.

    Man labors constantly to blend a gender-split;
    But, sex is a convenient tool for digging a pit.
    Swooping into play, the vultures grasp a rule,
    To unfold a cry-of-delusion…on a gentle fool.

    The stressful man is no fool…when he begins;
    ‘Cause kindly, sex is gentle with his lady friend.
    The vultures gather to offer laws of legal use,
    As a gender-split cries “rule” for spouse abuse.

    Effort arises with a devotion to serve a cause;
    The struggle to appease sex…is having-a-ball.
    Vultures see no virtue–split down-the-middle;
    Mean…merits a reward, as gentle means little.

    A gulf betwixt the split…is a resolute mystery;
    ‘Til finally, patience survives a sexual sensory.
    Vultures are dumb as post–come from space;
    Their function is to legalize the perpetual race.

    Work is man’s character–woven into a vanity,
    That the act of gender sex…is virtually a duty.
    Basically, the value in man’s work…turns a lie,
    ‘Cause a clever fickle female is the angle why.

    When the female refers to man–as filthy scum,
    Our system declares his devotion–a dirty bum.
    Therefore, a gender-split is a mystery to mend;
    Brazenly, to repair the bedroom with his friend.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Ascend your heart to a sensation divine;
    Permit the worldly mind to join the climb.
    There is a distant planet–in a giggle lot,
    Where political artisans untie your knot.

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    Ascend your heart to a sensation divine;
    Permit the worldly mind to join the climb.
    There is a distant planet–in a giggle lot,
    Where political artisans untie your knot.

    Administration is an office good for man,
    To form imperfect subjects into a blend.
    Frolick’n souls in a sense-of-the-absurd,
    Fill space with laughter–in giggle words.

    Social legislation attends a laughter law,
    Which subdue the burdens of some flaw.
    Realization gazes on the happiness rule,
    As officials unite to keep the planet cool.

    Unity ascends the mind–in a happy plot,
    That lifts a heavy heart, with a giggle lot.
    Separation unravels our planet’s design,
    To place burdens within a control divine.

    Intertwined principles…govern our planet;
    Laughter agrees, that every socialite fits.
    The contrite heart is equal–to the equal;
    Alas, honor lends justice a mercy sequel.

    The planet state rises–superior to magic,
    And persuades hope to achieve fantastic.
    Entrance to this joyous government plan,
    Transforms the mind for a glorious stand.

    Giggle lot is not a litigation for happiness;
    But rather, the light resolve of giggleness.
    To overcome the world ascends the heart,
    For satisfaction wins…as the giggle start.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Deep within a gender creature,
    there lies a universal fuss.
    It tantalizes an emotional quest,
    to awaken the gitty bug.

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    Deep within a gender creature,
    there lies a universal fuss.
    It tantalizes an emotional quest,
    to awaken the gitty bug.

    Warmer than the comfortable sun,
    kissing makes no sense at all.
    The bug rules the mind and heart,
    until the foolish creature falls.

    Head-over-heels, the gitty tale
    soon demands attention.
    Subduing the creature’s power,
    holds time in suspension.

    Hopeful dreams begin to breath,
    while life appeals…to fresh.
    There is no mortal more aluring,
    than this bug will caress.

    Time floats in the eternal realm,
    more real than the past.
    As long as the gitty bug will live,
    the body desires to last.

    The gitty dreams…arouse a love,
    as emotions go deeper.
    In this world of mortal creatures,
    riches become cheaper.

    Waiting for the bug to consume,
    gitty…suffers the brain.
    If love can not dispel the gloom,
    the creature falls insane.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Righteousness craves a generous condition,
    In defense of a sacred reign–God’s position.
    Heaven’s holy-war…offers freedom on earth,
    To choose the right path…for a humble birth.

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    Righteousness craves a generous condition,
    In defense of a sacred reign–God’s position.
    Heaven’s holy-war…offers freedom on earth,
    To choose the right path…for a humble birth.

    The earth was placed in orbit–by His power,
    In disguising His view, for this temporal hour.
    The human heart lives with an immortal soul,
    Waging a holy-war against percepts of gold.

    Power is of the essence…in this carnal story.
    Who will reign on earth–in a provincial glory?
    Substances portray falsehoods by the score;
    Golden gods prefer darkness thru every door.

    Since a God Almighty…has true spiritual power,
    There is no being-of-mention deserves a tower.
    Man was placed “a little lower then the angels”,
    To strengthen a battalion-of-faith in a triangle.

    Faith is an invisible rank…in defense-of-glory;
    Revelations reveal strength in a spiritual story.
    God perpetuates mankind beyond an evil view,
    Establishing freedom-of-choice–in what to do.

    What evil possessed Heaven’s arch-adversary,
    To be an obstinate devil–even most contrary?
    Seeking happiness may be tricky and elusive;
    But, how does a spirit loose…in self-abusive?

    What is glory, that God will defend the state;
    To prompt Lucifer–willing to fall for the take?
    Whoever is on the Lord’s side, sees His glory;
    A personal witness declares a gifted memory.

    Since, Eternal Deity creates all things–forever,
    Holy angels defend God’s office, as much better.
    He will continue to dwell in a province-of-glory,
    Protecting His disciples from the devilish gorey.

    Glory is a condition only Heavenly Gods possess;
    Whatever acts as power, does the gentle caress.
    Spirtual Gifts are available, lowly man must seek,
    For only wisdom’s light…lights the humble meek.

    Perhaps real evidence of creation…is a real sign,
    For power indicates, that God’s glory is sublime.
    Whatever happiness is achieved in mortal man,
    More glory is a heavenly gift, where God stands.

    Whatever unfolds, boldly seek God’s kingdom;
    Unpretentiously waiting patiently, to be given.
    Sacred things are not sought by feeble power,
    For Divine Glory will ultimately rule the tower.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Jonboy has fallen–headlong in-for sweetened curves;
    Makes no sense; he suddenly slows down…with love.
    That!…he perceives as brighter–on the greener side;
    Because, in the vacinity he lives…savors multiple lies.

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    Jonboy has fallen–headlong in-for sweetened curves;
    Makes no sense; he suddenly slows down…with love.
    That!..he perceives as brighter–on the greener side;
    Because, in the vacinity he lives…savors multiple lies.

    Ole Jonboy excellerates around those tender curves;
    He is chattering less sense–with a cautious swerve.
    Anxiously, Jon looks careless amidst sharper corners;
    Claims, whatever he says–love is a direction pointer.

    Nonsense declares Jonboy to be somekind of a spouse;
    Patiently, he sets the cheese…to trap a lady’s mouse.
    Now, ole Jonboy is in a dense cloud–far-up in the sky;
    He loves somebody he doesn’t know–with misty eyes.

    Googoo eyes is perfectly ok…with the birds and bees,
    To court…siddled around somebody’s protected trees.
    But, folks don’t take kindly to a salty old charming boy;
    Floating his romantic-sense amidst their bundle-of-joy.

    Old Jonboy’s horns are prepared…with a lots of nerve,
    To race his heartbeat–when he eyes sweeter curves.
    He is a spry young gent, exceeding her make-believe;
    But, our community allows nobody to shake our trees.

    Jonboy’s nerve, within our tree, rattles an entire town;
    Some law should measure his gall…to settle him down.
    Well, everybody in town boasts–to be his best firend;
    If!…they are not concerned where his court has been.

    Finally, there is nothing wrong with what folks claim;
    Smartly, gentleman Jon will gladly deflect the blame.
    A story records that folks decide his charm can last;
    ‘Cause, charming Jon is likeable…with a perfect past.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Time is law–in a force of gravity,
    Inwhich, man must obey.
    Time is a lost cause–for eternity,
    Wherein, man can’t stay.

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    Time is law–in a force of gravity,
    Inwhich man must obey.
    Time is a lost cause–for eternity,
    Wherein, man can’t stay.

    Love is the supportive ruler-of-time,
    For earth reigns with power.
    Earth rotates the condition of man,
    For mankind’s loving shower.

    Combine love’s gravitational pull;
    Time is a moment on land.
    Combined with a power-of-love;
    Time for woman and man.

    Concerned for loving tender care,
    Cherish the heart so kind.
    Caring between man and woman;
    Devoted hearts combine.

    Earthly barriers are broken lose;
    Love reveals the sign.
    A barrier breaks an ageless trap,
    As love soars pass time.

    Each generation agrees with time;
    No one dare countersuit.
    Generations, who love a following,
    Eternally, will never lose.

    Choose this day…to be alive,
    And let time pass beyond.
    Choose whatever, you will decide;
    Let lovely gravity…live on.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    The rat-race is on, for dogging the Church-of-God;
    And, saving hearts…is to rescue from a mortal sod.
    This dirty reality entices souls–to crave odd things,
    By clinging to the necessity of man’s tangible sting.

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    The rat-race is on, for dogging the Church-of-God;
    And, saving hearts…is to rescue from a mortal sod.
    This dirty reality entices souls–to crave odd things,
    By clinging to the necessity of man’s tangible sting.

    Mainstream-church…runs this race with worldly rats,
    For defensive boys and girls scamper about like cats.
    The church shares knowledge for man’s raging race,
    While chasing the support of this world’s rapid pace.

    The Church is a teaching-institution of Jesus Christ,
    To reveal sacred truth, which emphasize a highlight.
    Reasonable-sense attends this training of the spirit;
    So that, knowledge within raw minds will suitably fit.

    Active Church fades–drifting toward green pastures,
    As the Ancient-of-Days…acheives a glorious stature.
    The rear-pew calmly observes a stream of rat-races;
    Grazing on experience–in older out-to-pasture paces.

    The young hopeful gaze–stares into the eyes of age,
    While blank minds wait…to write upon an empty page.
    Settle for all truth that radiates through stated purity,
    For the subtle pew, is beyond the conflict-of-eternity.

    In the mainstream, church-folks must chew on grass;
    But, those greener pastures–now wit the world past.
    Wisdom refuses to choose–the return of foolishness,
    By replacing man’s complacency to raging worldiness.

    In this world of tangible things, the rat-race goes on,
    While the greener pew waits in the pasture for home.
    With a contestant prayer-of-hope to save the young,
    Please, Church!…teach them to sing an eternal song.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Normal creation is not a vice–to ordinary man,
    For a functional woman is essential to the plan.
    What think ye, people, of a pretty sexual twist?
    Will a beautiful woman compel a man into bliss?

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    Normal creation is not a vice–to ordinary man,
    For a functional woman is essential to the plan.
    What think ye, people, of a pretty sexual twist?
    Will a beautiful woman compel a man into bliss?

    If nature does not attract unity with the sexes,
    Who could explain compulsion–in sexual hexes?
    An off-colored thought…may be a smile-of-dirt,
    Descending from an intent–eventually, to hurt.

    It’s absurd to assume sex–without a thought,
    For marriage is a substance the heart brought.
    Male and female forms are different to the eye;
    Only naive children would ask for reasons why.

    Impulse!…must appeal to gynecological defense,
    And then, protest love’s heart across the fence.
    The physical body is designed for a formal unity,
    And depend upon productive laws of continuity.

    There’s a force which lies deep within the truth,
    When sexual inclinations deal some tragic spoof.
    Normal sense-of-human allurement…is ignored,
    Until the reality of Satan exposes an ugly porn.

    Man can not be a captive, and expect beauty,
    For addiction fails to concern a sense-of-duty.
    Beautiful sight–sees all, by not denying truth;
    But, ugly conceals sense–to force duty aloof.

    Don’t lie–to make porno images non-existent,
    For the truth will not cease to be confederate.
    The human heart longs for sensations–to feel;
    But, porno-realism can abuse, and burn to hell.

    Truth can not be annihilated, and remain pure;
    Birth organs were created by God–to be sure.
    When a human being descends the birth canal,
    Only beauty appears–when the child pops out.

    Attached to the purpose of this canal-of-wonder,
    Is an unrefined being, with thoughts–too blunder.
    Nevertheless, a combination of mother-and-child,
    Are equipped with reproductive tools–from God!

    Perception is a fixture–in rearranging imagination,
    Once the creation is treated by a porn-sensation.
    Images become permanently afixed–to the heart,
    So that, the wonder-of-man has a beautiful start.

    From the heart-of-the-universe, came the canal,
    While sexuality produces a human saga–to swell.
    Awareness will not leave man…between the legs,
    For education delivers him to his mother–to beg.

    Pornographic portrayal, betrays God’s human call;
    Patrons get a good start, and fall-back in a crawl.
    They can not behold the eyes of a mother’s need,
    As she pleads to see where life could rightly lead.

    Defiance imposes a true picture of concrete fact,
    For God’s comprehensive existence does not lack.
    Reality doesn’t cease, because someone is crazy;
    Nor will it detour around a narrow-mind–too lazy.

    Life is truth, and the birth-canal will always exist,
    For God’s creation-of-man…must! forever persist.
    Hold a sexual image as sacred evidence…so bold;
    And please, never annihilate purposes of the soul.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Creation shows the evidence–that man
    Is merely half a heart–without woman.
    He, with no “s” in she, is rather–a half,
    ‘Til she spies–a he in she, with a laugh.

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    Creation shows the evidence–that man
    Is merely half a heart…without a woman.
    He, with no “s” in she, is crudely–a half,
    ‘Til she spies–a he in she, with a laugh.

    Together, two hearts meet life head-on;
    With self-defense, they establish a home.
    A mighty fortress stands behind the wall,
    Where…a couple of hearts will never fall.

    Diminsh a whole heart–decrease-to-half;
    So, what is left-over–is a smirkish laugh.
    Half a heartbeat, but with a frigged mind;
    Time passes painfully slow…with a whine.

    A diminished heart merely comes to a halt,
    Unless the better half recognizes the fault.
    Somehow!…somewhere! there is a match,
    When twin halves, finally meet their catch.

    To be caught, is not a dreadful condition;
    Rather, it’s a free-trap in a lost dimension.
    Since creation designed hearts to be two,
    Lost…proves he and she–are found true.

    Hearts beat a rhythm-of-life to the world,
    But gender existence…is a temporal swirl.
    He slights her–to think the way she does,
    As she desires to change the way he was.

    To drift apart–includes two broken hearts,
    ‘Cause the “wholeheart” will not exist apart.
    He and she doesn’t love to be apart, at all!
    So, the hardest fall of all…is beyond recall.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Pain is a reckonary thing–full of cost;
    An event…when sense is lost.
    Lost in the brain, for other things to do;
    As a dormant courage ensues.

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    Pain is a reckonary thing–full of cost;
    An event…when sense is lost.
    Lost in the brain, for other things to do;
    As a dormant courage ensues.

    Quick!…is the lesson of an intense pain,
    Like a javelin thru the brain.
    Brainwaves are galvanized into action,
    Seeking an easier attraction.

    Dumb folks do not escape pain, at all,
    Especially…a hateful call.
    Like an addict, they seek distraction,
    Dulling a galvanized action.

    Instead of producing behavioral sight,
    Like becoming wrong or right,
    The sensible thing becomes illogical;
    The pain-of-hate, so magical.

    The enjoyment of experiencing hate,
    The pain bites like a snake.
    Every poisonous throb to be gained,
    Hate intensifies with pain.

    Jump-to-conclusion is a passtime song;
    Somebody else “did wrong.”
    Yell mean!…and sing-out the cruel fact;
    Pain deserves to get back.

    Angry revenge lays a feast before a foe;
    The snake-bite appetites more.
    Oh! pain, please effect the craving brain;
    So soon…hate becomes insane.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Bravely, you came…all this way,
    With a determination–to be!
    Nothing–out there!…anyone says,
    Causes you to waste it away.

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    Bravely, you came…all this way,
    With a determination–to be!
    Nothing–out there!…anyone says,
    Causes you to waste it away.

    Your heart beats…with a set rhythm;
    Blood supplies the contentment.
    Your brain…waves goodbye the same,
    To every straining contaminant.

    Nothing alive!…can make more sense,
    Than the food you are eating.
    With a diet well-balanced in nutrition,
    Your body consumes a plenty.

    However, with a diet of free choices,
    You nourish an incomplete mind.
    Decisions you never have considered,
    Suddenly, sense becomes blind.

    Social presents other associate brains;
    Someone offers a clever opinion.
    Pollution never produces much shame,
    While diminishing healthy nutrition.

    What can be wrong…with a misplant?
    Millions can hardly be mistaken!
    It is simply a social-fire consumption,
    As food makes sense of think’n.

    Be extremely kind to a healthy career,
    And present your mind to freedom.
    Don’t allow a clever halfwit to interfer;
    He only wants to outwit the dumb.

    Afterall, dumb is not some stupid idiot;
    Your incomplete brain is right.
    Your choice is but a narrow addiction,
    If it is!…only groceries you bite.

    You came the way of other people,
    Who desire to extract the bad.
    They never try to change the good;
    Nor, distort wisdom…into sad.

    Such folks, who accept the pollution,
    Use the bad…for all its worth.
    Every plantation has some valid point,
    Like the memory of your birth.

    You arrived into a birth, cause oneday,
    You might live a shameful life.
    Striving thus, to destroy mental health,
    Like a congenial murder knife.

    Your blood flows through anxious veins,
    For a healthy ounce-of-sense.
    However, not through a concrete brain;
    You rely upon bad experience.

    Coughing to distress your fool head-off,
    Is nothing but the results-of-living.
    You can not identify a real destruction;
    It’s just your natural way of killing.

    You claim your blood is pure as snow,
    While pollution falls with the air.
    You have deceived your healthy mind,
    But to dig your grave–on a dare.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Cancer aggressively overran his natural body;
    The damage proved to be diagnotically haughty.
    Various test…revealed evident causes of cancer;
    So, hormonal inactivity, was the obvious answer.

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    Cancer aggressively overran his natural body;
    The damage proved to be diagnostically haughty.
    Various test…revealed evident causes of cancer;
    So, hormonal inactivity, was the obvious answer.

    Uric acid accumulated to burn with testosterine,
    And flowing abrasively in primary ducts of urine.
    Weaning activity, thus, sustained his aged rate;
    Until finally, sex hormones subdued his prostate.

    His urologist assulted the cancer cells–with rays!
    Supposing further damage…to lengthen his days.
    Each atomic treatment executed a closing battle,
    And before long, scathed the bladder like a tattle.

    At the ripe old-age of 72, damage led recovery,
    And weakened every hope of medical discovery.
    “Ooo me!” severe pain raged thru his fluid ducts;
    The doctor’s only infection–was to earn a buck.

    “We’re digging our graves with a grocery spoon”,
    He accidentally predicted–which came to soon.
    Snacking to view a TV set–just a laying around;
    Hopefully, he is curing his disease in the ground.

    The man could do nothing more for a family life;
    Except, discuss uric acid, with his nonsexy wife.
    A defensive mechanism to protect the prostate,
    Involves a healthy sex-life…with a willing mate.

    Notice: uris acid is one culprit to formulate gout;
    Perhaps, a hormonal schedule could work-it-out.
    Who knows the true possibility of a hormonal wit;
    He may ‘ve lived forever, if his hormones were fit.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Crowded streets sound with the hunger call;
    Children of God are struggling against a wall.
    A desparate life: “leave the children alone!”
    Severely aching souls crave to return home.

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    Crowded streets sound with the hunger call;
    Children of God are struggling against a wall.
    A desparate life: “leave the children alone!”
    Severely aching souls crave to return home.

    Some beggar…chances to scrounge for food,
    Like an isolated stranger–with nothing to do.
    Gather a society of citizens, just as he needs,
    To encourage an improvement, after he feeds.

    Total darkness places Heaven out-of-sight;
    Blind children do not realize the law-of-light.
    Holy Order…rules a pattern of eternal worth;
    Man’s system meets many needs–from birth.

    Single persons lack community organization;
    He is minus the rational system for direction.
    He floats through life without some business;
    Except for the misery he finds–in loneliness.

    Do not leave the children forever–to be lost;
    Rally them to a community…with some cause.
    No one can exist under the sun, without sleep;
    He needs a resting place, with victuals to eat.

    The individual cannot constitute a community,
    Inwhich, a system provides everyone security.
    An establishment requires firm citizenship order;
    So needs may be met–by a systematic barter.

    Just as earth measures business with a boast,
    God has a plan…to find children who are lost.
    Imagine God…with no direction for His search;
    Or, a chaotic business…in His principal church.

    To maintain a world, there is business galore;
    It will all vanish, so that, it functions no more.
    Resurrect the dead, then order must continue;
    God’s children will realize: the old world is new.
    [/pay]

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