• Others, Poetry 02.10.2012 No Comments

    when misguided mortals break in;

    or, pernicious devils choose to sin;

    Lord, Thy Treasure is safe within.

     

    suppose Thy Children are blind to see,

    or crude souls are unkind to Thee;

    still, Thy Treasure is plain to me.

     

    every Principle of Thy Holy House

    delivered to earth before, or now,

    Thy Treasure remains clear somehow.

     

    a Still Small Voice reveals the Truth;

    it tells me all Things that I should do;

    because Thy Treasure tells me of You.

     

    established within my seeking heart

    lies a resolute Faith to prove Thy Part;

    ’cause, Thy Treasure to know is Smart.

     

    a House Of Order fills my soul;

    to deny Its Beauty leaves me cold;

    Thy Treasure sweetly turns me bold.

     

    Scriptures prove Thy Word Anew,

    What Newer Voices declare is True;

    Thy Treasure leads me back to You.

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  • Others 12.12.2008 No Comments

    Past-tense demands eventual organic decay;
    all things mortal are subject–anyway!
    The world is fraught with a bunch of worry;
    mostly about–not enduring the flurry.

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    Past-tense demands eventual organic decay;
    all things mortal are subject–anyway!
    The world is fraught with a bunch of worry;
    mostly about–not enduring the flurry.

    However, alotted time passes…with a blur;
    each organism sees…what must occur.
    Regardless of any clever and wise attempt,
    fools must surrender, as a noble whimp.

    Even though prejudice may sway the ages,
    social ignorance turns with the pages.
    Before life’s precise-age…is finally realized,
    invincible halfwits believe many lies.

    Every falsehood, which dimwits perpetuate,
    judgement subdues their narrow hate.
    A futile attempt advocates an improbability,
    to disblur the flurry with any possibility.

    With ages, the oldest opinion cries “woe is me”
    to inexperienced hearts that cannot see.
    Each living entity…is bound to an exact path;
    time!…eventually turns to do the math.

    The math is destine to reveal daily occurrence;
    light and dark alternate with dominance.
    This is a set path, which is divine in every way;
    dark becomes light to begin another day.

    The cemetary is filled because time ran-out;
    so, the grave offers us nothing to pout.
    Why should courage end life–with a final cry?
    past-tense explains the math…and why!
    [/pay]

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  • Others 12.12.2008 No Comments

    Man’s fluke claims obedience to be the manipulative whim;
    However, lasting comfort–to a whim, is painfully slim.
    Man selfishly demands self-conceit to be strongly appeased,
    For administrators can’t function…with chaos pleased.

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    Man’s fluke claims obedience to be the manipulative whim;
    However, lasting comfort–to a whim, is painfully slim.
    Man selfishly demands self-conceit to be strongly appeased,
    For administrators can’t function…with chaos pleased.

    Obedient intent!…reveals knaves, who offer a tricky design,
    Inorder to subdue victums, so virtue can’t save the blind.
    Humble endeavor points man to a path on his happy quest,
    Which requires brave progress, like truth seeks to bless.

    Unless bold progression invokes an awesome eternal light,
    Compliance will never enlighten the slightest night.
    Darkness permeates the swallow mind of willful concepts;
    Daring to con another fool…by a sin of self-decept.

    Man’s fluke…claims dominion, while neglect is dominant;
    Noble service can deceive the intent of a power-nut.
    Every soul attends truth, with the scrutiny of conscious;
    Line-upon-line endures forever–beyond compliance.

    Pardon the intrusion: obedience at a lesser command-level,
    Distracts important issues…inorder to shovel gravel.
    While attending some fluky distraction–far beneath a rise,
    Man’s eyes cannot believe-in seeing God…for the lies.

    When the gullible soul sleeps–in the blindness of the blind,
    His subservient darkness…renders progress for behind.
    Higher thoughts flow from the news of eternal providence,
    While this mortal compliance–is deceptive confidence.

    Place obedience side-by-side with this mortal compliance;
    And then, draw straws to choose a proper appliance.
    Obedience lifts the weak things-of-earth higher and higher;
    Pray for God’s discerning wisdom–to become a flyer.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 12.12.2008 No Comments

    If virtue is betrayed…by a devious perfection,
    Interrogate the devil for a dubious correction.
    As lies permeate the wide expanse-of-eternity,
    God’s creation must settle a craft-of-integrity.

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    If virtue is betrayed–by a devious perfection,
    Interrogate the devil for a dubious correction.
    As lies permeate the wide expanse-of-eternity,
    God’s creation must settle a craft-of-integrity.

    Such a broad creation has a request to behold,
    So that truth may blend with lying stories told.
    If the physical condition can fool God’s belief,
    All things common…alters man’s mental relief.

    A smile is not what it seems–to lift the heart!
    But rather, mature eyes testify–who you are.
    By now, you wonder whatever words can say;
    If truth becomes disguised, believe it anyway.

    Untold! is what you know and believe–for sure;
    When the sun rises, witness it plainly–as pure.
    Burn the boldness of the day…into your mind;
    So, the noble heart desires to be totally blind.

    Pure reasons for truth, could hold God at bay,
    While the devil delivers what he wants to say.
    Goodsense may listen–unto a thoughtful spell,
    While honor awakens–into the suburbs of hell.

    Light burns falsehood…rightdown to the truth,
    And expose certain things left with any worth.
    Beside truth, slithers a camouflage pile of lies;
    It is a universal contest–a drama of any size.

    Confusion tends to converse in commonsense;
    Familiar enough to drift within the past-tense.
    Heaven must maintain respect for crafty hell,
    For in that conflict, man finds a drama to tell.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 12.12.2008 No Comments

    Which comes first: acknowledgement, or some skill?
    Is a prophetic talent something that angels call real?
    Many are called–to anything, but not without effort.
    Surprize cannot be the order!…of a heavenly import.

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    Which comes first: acknowledgement, or some skill?
    Is a prophetic talent something that angels call real?
    Many are called–to anything, but not without effort.
    Surprize cannot be the order!…of a heavenly import.

    If mankind lacks the wisdom of the heavenly factor,
    No authority may consider him…for Godly character.
    Virtues will allude every man, who remains ignorant,
    Because God’s power will not grow into complacent.

    Before our holy Savior appears on earth–a second,
    Holy courage is required to reveal a lighted beacon.
    His coming must be forerun–by some prophetic man;
    And thus, unsettle complacency by his favored hand.

    Alas, feeble man thinks he knows, while knowing not;
    Devilish complacency settles within his narrow mind.
    Therefore, he is stuck on foolish signs–to miss alot;
    He would rather treasure ignorance, as well as blind.

    Pass the buck, and thus, lose your foolish soul to luck,
    For divinity did not create mankind…to wallow amuck.
    Doing goodly service is a rude nasty taste to the devil;
    All his naughty sins degradate–to judge a lower lever.

    A righteous man–cannot be known to blind ignorance;
    Nor will divine-calls come, without seeking the beacon.
    If wretched destroys our omnipotent God’s redemption,
    He feels threatened by the whole talents–of seek ‘en’.

    The true pointage-call of man to God’s humble service,
    Is to practice the talent that finally leads to perfection.
    Since holy prophecy is the ruling spirit of Jesus Christ,
    What fool will deny the talents–of God’s satisfaction?
    [/pay]

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  • Others 24.11.2008 No Comments

    Ah yes!…but Capital, your high prices
    chip away!…upon this free society.
    Our God-given confidence falters rightly,
    walking the streets of our sobriety.

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    Ah yes!…but Capital, your high prices
    chip away!…upon this free society.
    Our God-given confidence falters rightly,
    walking the streets of our sobriety.

    You now, charge for commodities–like
    pride is a power-angle of freedom.
    The more wealth you seem to possess,
    the greater your capital kingdom.

    Pardon my impertenance, but look here;
    power claims a right to be valid.
    Prices align with a bold tactful system,
    to execute what the Jones’ did.

    If your demented design reflects an ego,
    your survival displays corruption.
    Since a free society is compelled to pay,
    prices push liberty beyond dimension.

    You claim a systematic law–to charge,
    for the cost-of-living is universal.
    Therefore, every poor American citizen
    must pray–for a costly reversal.

    The American dream–once set in stone;
    liberty is the hope that was sought.
    Freedom is not free, when lost in prices;
    going to-and-fro cannot be bought.

    Legally, you accuse!…citizen-compliants
    reflect peasants…with chips to glorify.
    And that people have lost the real dream,
    which money offers an angle to dignify.

    Unqualified, with a large degree of strut,
    citizens fail to realize this costly set.
    Your prices are designed by your genius,
    to wrap-up poverty in a bondage net.

    Lo and behold, if your ego claims validity,
    to corrupt the dreams of all mankind,
    Then, a lose of our liberty is also correct,
    to chip at power–of the legally blind.

    If systematic corruption claims to be valid,
    in building the tower of a wealthy ego,
    Then cold poverty of the masses must cite
    the American right–to come and go.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 24.11.2008 No Comments

    Cool eyes disturb the soul–with a calamity;
    Perception alters the face of honesty.
    Innocence is betrayed to wishful judgement;
    Clever has shifted to discontentment.

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    Cool eyes disturb the soul–with a calamity;
    Perception alters the face of honesty.
    Innocence is betrayed to wishful judgement;
    Clever has shifted to discontentment.

    A conditional look emerges from the eyes:
    Pure peaceful truth shows-up as lies.
    Persuasion hurls a mind–to endless denial;
    Earth becomes reduced, as a mis-trial.

    This tender manuever uses a voice-of-cool,
    To connect reality–as an eternal fool.
    God declares man a free agent unto himself;
    But, he expects it idly…and nothing else.

    A conflicting issue requires a valid defense,
    So the argument makes a little sense.
    Otherwise, there’s no wisdom in the scheme,
    For to cling to lies–is an eternal demean.

    Who would believe unreal is right–for real?
    Wrong possesses no satisfying appeal.
    Exposure to religion lifts the heart to flight,
    Even until darkness surrenders to light.

    No comfort dare continue with a falsehood,
    To reveal hope…as the future should.
    Where is glory…in living without a Creator;
    A lost cause–is merely an aggravator.

    If mortal man has no reason–but to dream,
    Hope!…is more weird than it seems.
    With supernatural senses of God’s creation,
    An agnostic flees his condemnation.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Reminisce the innocent business of Eve and Adam,
    For God commanded them to multiply their pattern.
    A crafty old serpent spied sweet Eve drawing near;
    Offer this tasty fig to the man! who said, yes dear.

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    Reminisce the innocent business of Eve and Adam,
    For God commanded them to multiply their pattern.
    A crafty old serpent spied sweet Eve drawing near;
    Offer this tasty fig to the man! who said, yes dear!

    Simply, yes dear!…is a way of peace–to the world;
    It began at a garden tree, when man spoke to a girl.
    Man’s action changed, because woman became vain;
    She discovered beauty–and the way to trap a man.

    That old serpent made sense of the creation of sex;
    Adam found a woman, so Eve told him what is next.
    Adam naturally harasses Eve…with a forbidden fruit;
    Then, she makes him do whatever she wants him to.

    Between man and woman, a threat is good and bad;
    Man lacks a normal sense to enjoy the fruit she had.
    Creation is hers’ to command…to win a commitment;
    Woman rewards man–a fruit of sweet contentment.

    Natural man is an enemy…who becomes a nasty boy;
    Until! some woman bears the fruit to approve his toy.
    Sexual behavior expresses equal–to his harassment;
    Man and woman unite with a social embarrassment.

    In arousing himself in search of woman–he offends;
    Because!…social norms expect his chase to pretend.
    From a distance, he acts the part of a foolish friend,
    Until she turns: you have my style; so, come-on in!

    Beautiful sex will appear–only as a thief in the night;
    It can’t be viewed in a natural state, ’til relief is right.
    Dare to grasp beauty–as love, while no one is looking,
    For her sexy frame is beauty…in the kitchen–cooking.

    The world has multiplied the mold of Adam and Eve;
    ‘Cause she sent woman to alter, when they disagree.
    Adam instructs men to listen–for the female opinion
    For she rules the world–from the bedroom dominion.

    The charming woman can boycott the marriage bed,
    By gaining control of any reason to turn every head.
    Man reorients in compliance with the female gender;
    Causing a great disturbance…to admit his surrender.

    Adam attended the garden–didn’t see the big picture;
    But Eve, on the other hand, saw a big worldly stature.
    Adam noticed the forbidden fruit…in the hand of Eve;
    Yes dear!…that is a delicious fruit, cause now I see.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    I’d rather see you in hell, then be there;
    Dirt on you, produces me–no scare.
    Wrong a wrong, is a double dose of pain;
    Condemn me, then look at your brain.

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    I’d rather see you in hell, then be there;
    Dirt on you, produces me–no scare.
    Wrong a wrong, is a double dose of pain;
    Condemn me, then look at your brain.

    Remember the accused man on a cross,
    Who never murmured to a world lost?
    Wo…wo, is evil that hung him in shame;
    Man’s wicked actions are to blame.

    “You scratch my back; I’ll scratch yours.”
    It is becoming to a society–more pure.
    Wrongs will not improve…by a retaliation;
    Foes contending, will lose the sensation.

    Hate is an angry master, that multiplies;
    Festering sores–by descending lies.
    Once a falsehood aggravates things real,
    There’ll be no escape, but only to kill.

    Love spied accusers–with stone faces;
    Pretentiously, they deny true cases.
    Jesus didn’t come to hate and condemn,
    But to draw repentence…unto Him.

    I’ll see me–in Him, thru a humble shanty;
    Begging His power to relieve my scanty.
    He scratched my back…so many times;
    Tho’ condemned, he cried not a whine.

    Alas, I’ve learned a valuable lesson by you;
    “Two wrongs…do not make a right!”
    Perchance, you gain honor in what is true;
    You shall then emerge–a holy light.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Don’t exhaust your mind by a poor selection;
    Assuming a workout…for your own salvation.
    By the sweat of the brow–without correction,
    You exchange your soul for an awful selection.

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    Don’t exhaust your mind by a poor selection;
    Assuming a workout…for your own salvation.
    By the sweat of the brow–without correction,
    You exchange your soul for an awful selection.

    Since the world is compelling–in your face,
    You entered this existence to run the race.
    Sweating with the assumption of a chase,
    Salvation is far behind your worldly pace.

    Judging by the way you spend your lifetime,
    Trying to correct the perfection of sunshine;
    Worry with the sweat on your temporal pine,
    And leave judgement to another man’s time.

    If your assumption is dead-wrong to what is not,
    Your salvation might slip away…with a body rot.
    Working-out this corruptible existence, has got
    To be the reason you judge what you should not.

    Gender determines your position in this thing;
    This world around you, is with an elusive sting.
    Salvation calls you, but you ignore the ring;
    Genderations are an obsession with this thing.

    Suggestions!…invite you into a better world;
    For a realm of dreams, or some tarished pearl.
    The same salvation applies to boys and girls;
    So judge for yourself–your attainable world.

    Before you select a judgement upon another,
    Consider salvation that might fit your brother.
    Everyone joins the race by father and mother;
    Thus, choose better worlds to perfect another.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    The “same yesterday, today, and forever”
    Declare the scriptural prophet–of holy writ.
    The connon is replete, and divinely clever,
    Ascerting a throne in-place, for God to sit.

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    The “same yesterday, today, and forever”
    Declare the scriptural prophet–of holy writ.
    The connon is replete, and divinely clever,
    Ascerting a throne in-place, for God to sit.

    The world is!–and creation is a noble place,
    Where man will arrange his moment in space.
    A firmament with strict laws…is paramount,
    For, our sovereign God will manifest His face.

    No other god can possibly create this world;
    Placed here for man to reverence true might.
    Foolish mankind invents gods–in a worldspin,
    While evil advocates provoke God to a fight.

    Holy Generals ordain man to resist evil ways;
    As the mouthpiece-of-deity heralds the light.
    Free agency provides fools with darker days;
    For their blind choice is to grope in the night.

    When nefarious predominates within a society,
    Drastic measures should awaken new change.
    Man can’t perpetuate in God’s divine sobriety;
    For then, earth is wasted–without a chance.

    Life was designed for man to see his Creator,
    And honour allegience to no other godly rule.
    Carnal profit is naught–compared to a soul;
    He gains a fleeting glory–in a world of fools.

    Tomorrow God will reign, as He did yesterday;
    Today is the same–with a future and a past.
    War between good and evil will forever stay,
    When man worships God, evil refuses to last.

    Prophets establish validity in One Holy God;
    He admonishes truth to enter into His sight.
    Who denies life, as hearts continue to beat?
    Does death have the power to create might?

    Holy scriptures proclaim a Creator of this life;
    God demands devotion, or life is taken away.
    While formulating truth within a natural man,
    Blood flows thru life on the words that pray.

    Noah gathered a few folks to float on a flood;
    Everyone else…was doomed to sink, or swim.
    When life fails to serve a true and living God,
    There’s no one to save–on a righteous whim.

    Pharoah ruled over Isreal, for God to oversee;
    Fortunately, Moses grew-up in the royal court.
    Plagues and disease ordered to set Isreal free;
    Finally, the king chased a God to the Red Sea.

    Looking forward to a distant promised land,
    Where inhabitants worship gods-in-the-wild.
    Isreal is a crude-lot for Joshua to command;
    A Holy War destroys man, woman, and child.

    Ultimately, God created an expendable world,
    Where life is the principle salvation of a soul.
    Saving the soul is more precious than pearls,
    So far as flesh heeds the value prophets told.

    On earth, we await the loveable hand of God,
    While the world revolves upon the human race.
    The spirit is willing, but the flesh lacks a shod,
    To walk the principles on the paths we chase.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Empty hearts wander!…where to go–and do;
    Begin another day, without someone to woo.
    Somehow the nights reach for the rising sun;
    There, the daylight drags-on to miss the fun.

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    Empty hearts wander!…where to go–and do;
    Begin another day, without someone to woo.
    Somehow the nights reach for the rising sun;
    There, the daylight drags on to miss the fun.

    Good morning! isn’t good–with a blank stare;
    To mock the motion of walk; no one to share.
    Sleepy eyes feel a measure of being complete,
    As senses notice the room–with love delete.

    Alas, love songs prime the thoughts we think;
    And friends perceive a lovely value–in a wink.
    Come-on over!…let’s play music for nice folks;
    Sing a few songs, and laugh with a good joke.

    Without looking for romance–in love’s desire,
    Oneday, an opportunity unravels life to share.
    Surprised at the wonder of this complete love;
    The showers of goodness appears from above.

    To deny the union of our love, would be tragic;
    Our minds fuse together our bodies–like magic.
    Fingers weave our hearts in a euphoric desire;
    Mingling elated kisses with the telephone wire.

    A match made-in-heaven, and placed on earth,
    For love blends our sensitive hearts with worth.
    We are now!…who we are–with dreams to live,
    But this is no dream:–the world’s reality gives.

    Hope in the future, voices crave a deeper touch,
    When our hearts will soar–for laughing too much.
    We resolve the child–in us!…to search maturity;
    Where heaven declares our progress–eternally.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Behold, all these things have purpose,
    that give credence to the senses.
    Given to awaken a “cause and effect”
    to be activated by our chances.

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    Behold, all these things have purpose,
    that give credence to the senses.
    Given to awaken a “cause and effect”
    to be activated by our chances.

    Temporarily, service formulates order
    for a few blinking short days.
    Creation gracefully puts these things
    to rot away, rust, and decay.

    The sun keeps pace to make the most
    of a light shining on a feeble fit.
    Even a narrow evaluation can surmise,
    we swell in a momentary halfwit.

    Believe it or not; this is truth–anyway;
    take a view, ’cause here we are.
    Our senses make a little sense, at least,
    of this world–the way we were.

    All things, which have been assigned,
    fill space with a measure of time.
    They open blind eyes to see the truth,
    and witness–things are sublime!

    Tho’ decay is spread over all creation,
    existence?–is an evidence to see.
    Purpose measures on five feeble senses,
    that time-place…has a right to be.

    Beneath a fickle state of rot and decay,
    there are senses for spirits to be.
    All things tangible…witness to the soul,
    that life presents a Creator to see.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Hey! friend, forgive my anxious request;
    Awkward! now…haunts my hopeful best.
    Your desparate needs have met my soul;
    Entered a place, which makes me whole.

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    Hey! friend, forgive my anxious request;
    Awkward! now…haunts my hopeful best.
    Your desparate needs have met my soul;
    Entered a place, which makes me whole.

    No help on earth…can propel us onward;
    Eternally, we will circumvent the absurd.
    Earth has been filled with time before us;
    But now, a cold world makes us anxious.

    Apprehensive minds may spy a monster,
    As compassion rarely singles a prompter.
    Stalking a high trance of divine ecstacy,
    Anticipation of incessant pain blinds me.

    A kiss took a journey deep within a week,
    And aroused my anxious heart for a peek.
    Affectionate care awoke this sleepy soul,
    By a simple heartache made of pure gold.

    The heart inside my chest desires to help;
    And give love that overcomes fear-of-self.
    Your plight?…is my body’s dangerous ruin;
    We mortals continue to search eternal fun.

    My soul request is a projectile of affection,
    Like cupid arrows into the heart of passion.
    Rule out affection, and only foolish remains;
    Continuous die-cisions can drive me insane.

    If you choose, allow me a peek inside fear;
    Trust!…will disarm “fear”; courage is here.
    Before you came, my turmoil was a wreck;
    Oh, well!…I love you so, so what the heck.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    I walked into a room–with people wall to wall;
    Everybody looks the same, but not alike at all.
    Phlene is bent with pain; maggie’s head is ball;
    Vanson is to blame, cause Junior’s up the wall.

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    I walked into a room–with people wall to wall;
    Everybody looks the same, but not alike at all.
    Phlene is bent with pain; maggie’s head is ball;
    Vanson is to blame, cause Junior’s up the wall.

    The earth is awesome, and a beautiful creation;
    Every face and place is the variety of a nation.
    Enter a mall, a church, airport, or train station;
    Every face is formulated for the same position.

    Beauty is a threat…like an ominous spider net;
    Ugly changes with degrees, ever since we met.
    A man may be partial to the way the girl is set;
    But, the female will rule his attraction–I’ll bet!

    It is a miracle to be pretty, or ugly, or just plain;
    This old world is full of people–all just the same.
    Perception is the difference–no one can explain;
    Variety is a miracle, in which, no one is to blame.

    Aunt Bingy has a limp; Uncle Moe rides in a chair;
    Their love moves them along…with brightly care.
    Years have come and gone–for this captive pair;
    They look very different now…in what they wear.

    I’m trying desperately hard to believe what I see;
    Everything is so peculiar, even animals and trees.
    There is no place on earth, where I happen to be,
    Can be more lovely than the many miracles I see.

    This room is full of people, bursting at the seams;
    But, no one enters my eyes–looking just the same.
    Haven’t I met you somewhere…before you came?
    Didn’t your nose come from?…Heaven is to blame.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Remember the past…delightful weaknesses,
    Keeping company with self–was nonsense?
    Fooling around–by teasing a growing brain;
    Trying to sprout truth from a careful strain?

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    Remember the past…delightful weaknesses,
    Keeping company with self–was nonsense?
    Fooling around–by teasing a growing brain;
    Trying to sprout truth from a careful strain?

    Oh!–to be alive, and suffer young confusion;
    Invincible…to conquer this world of delusion.
    Nonsense bombards the mental supply shelf;
    But, delight is charged with a super-ego self.

    Older now!…but do not disregard childhood,
    For adults can’t go very far outside of home.
    No matter how and where…life comes to be,
    Passed lessons culminate for a wiser strong.

    Life is a proven state–toward a destination;
    By courage, hold to wisdom in your childhood.
    Right or astray, your mind is a true sensation,
    Which learns by errors–to do what it should.

    Remain teachable, as adults grow–steadily;
    Prove youth, that knowledge is for the meek.
    Your young tender tissue learns quite readily;
    Achieving awesome humility…from the weak.

    Finally, being old…rewards an essential past;
    Or, persuades learned foolishness not to last.
    The taws-up odds: offers freedom of choice:
    To savor a quiet wisdom, or to sound a noise.

    The past will ring through a mind–regardless;
    Form a reputation, or render a fool senseless.
    Keeping company with self…can be a delight,
    When lessons regard wisdom for what is right.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Hear the whining crank of a charmonian course,
    That causes a jumpstart from a beautiful source.
    Passion burns with an effect–in a life-of-reason;
    Naturally, a lightened world opens a new season.

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    Hear the whining crank of a charmonian course,
    That causes a jumpstart from a beautiful source.
    Passion burns with an effect–in a life-of-reason;
    Naturally, a lightened world opens a new season.

    Here comes the light! inwhich subdues the night;
    Overwhelming the darkness through a lovely sight.
    The number one–daily cause?…is to stand erect!
    And dispell a gloomy day–replace a faded project.

    Forgotten dreams–finally float toward a sunrise;
    Rendering the dreamer with thoughts more wise.
    A blinded eagle–sores in-flight, thru a solid wall;
    Bringing an ambitious dream, that desires to fall.

    Tougher than granite, the conscience lies awake;
    Knowing of traps that trip what knowledge makes.
    The desperate reach is as idle as a bag-of-sense;
    Until, passion opens the mind for another chance.

    Bang!…two sad hearts roll into a single ingredient;
    Mixing distant perceptions–to form the expedient.
    Refreshment was only a dream of some other day;
    While necessity sets a hope-of-courage–to stay.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Observation takes a narrow view
    of where the nose belongs;
    Placing the ears in a rude position,
    to absorb a travelin’ wrong.

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    Observation takes a narrow view
    of where the nose belongs;
    Placing the ears in a rude position,
    to absorb a travelin’ wrong.

    Gossip is a pit, which offers a trap
    and provides a juicy story.
    True or false!…is not a valid issue,
    through the grapevine glory.

    The pit digs-up warnings to spread
    –on some degradation charge,
    For the hole…deeply fits an alarm,
    to satisfy a grusome charm.

    Does a people-trap dare to gossip
    at the bottomless well?
    Down deep…goes the slimmy spit,
    in a belief bound for hell.

    The spectacle duty of a town cryer,
    relies upon a sense-of-self.
    The pit fits neatly–a grapevine liar,
    where he wails for himself.

    In association with the wailing pit,
    a serpent opens his mouth.
    Kindness possesses noplace to fit,
    to show the audience how.

    The terrible warning–in a gossip,
    is the flashback it bewails.
    A sad story springs from the vine,
    with a selfish sting to tell.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    Wherein lies the beauty
    –to that which is ugly,
    When the mind distorts
    a perception of love?

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    Wherein lies the beauty
    –to that which is ugly,
    When the mind distorts
    a perception of love?

    Is the physical anatomy less,
    –descending from above?
    Flesh to the eye…is obvious
    –to the creating Lord.

    Beauty cannot diminish love
    –planted within the heart!
    Uncovered…to the naked eye,
    maturity fills the body.

    A virtueous child travels thru
    the boundless aging naughty;
    Parents are aware of the love,
    when ugly–fleshes a beauty.

    Covered beyond a hiding place,
    flesh remains the same.
    Wide-open to the purest value,
    is found a covered brain.

    Imposters shall not breach the door
    –beyond this wall of good.
    Modesty protects a beauty right,
    as adults stabilize visual light.

    Peek-a-boo, a beautiful child
    receives its grown-up flesh;
    Beauty doubles the virtue
    –the rear…faces a truth.

    A beautiful face leads the rear
    –to tag along behind;
    Giving allegiance to principles
    –to follow the strength.

    Flesh appears to all mankind,
    –the same…at length;
    A beauty embodies the ugly
    –to turn the human mind.

    The question persuades the ages,
    that the body is blind.
    For beauty never fades away,
    for as–God made mankind.
    [/pay]

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  • Others 25.07.2007 No Comments

    A certain rumor says–some believe,
    Which finally rots their soul.
    It spreads through a church village
    like a subcrawlin’ dirty mole.

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    A certain rumor says–some believe,
    which finally rots their soul.
    It spreads through a church village
    like a subcrawlin’ dirty mole.

    There is a contagious group incharge:
    a self-appointed gossip team.
    Each member joins with an attitude,
    to see what the master means.

    A vigilantee status generates an echo,
    to keep it outrageously smooth.
    Suspicion motives this chatter group,
    ’cause there is nothing to prove.

    This group has no committee purpose,
    except to sullen a victum’s vote.
    Sneaky eyes…spy on the social count,
    to sway a popular election pole.

    A prime target is assigned his behavior,
    –anything to rattle his dances.
    Comments are interjected–in this step,
    which ruins his normal chances.

    This gossip committee is far too clever,
    to drop down a level in class.
    Members advocate…weaving together,
    to aim for a kick-in-the-ass.

    Subtlety selects an effective technique,
    so…employed by this committee.
    Their ruin-motto will–best a good man;
    “oh well, he deserves the pity.”
    [/pay]

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