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Hey man, what's good?

Good;
Is good.
It is good.
I am good.
Gin is good.
Air is good.
Art is good.
Tea is good.
*** is good.
Tao is good.
Zin is good.
Yin is good.
Life is good.
Zen is good.
Beer is good.
LSD is good.
We are good.
*** is good.
Love is good.
Cake is good.
Time is good.
Yang is good.
Wine is good.
Black is good.
Sleep is good.
You are good.
To be is good.
Syrah is good.
Logic is good.
Metal is good.
Piano is good.
Feet are good.
Water is good.
White is good.
Steam is good.
***** is good.
Legs are good.
Music is good.
Coffee is good.
Guitar is good.
Honor is good.
Poetry is good.
Colour is good.
Cheese is good.
Arms are good.
Cellos are good.
Portal 2 is good.
Respect is good.
T'ai Chi is good.
Writing is good.
Context is good.
Literacy is good.
Hands are good.
The Sun is good.
The Past is good.
Wisdom is good.
Humour is good.
Fingers are good.
Whiskey is good.
Friends are good.
Teaching is good.
Learning is good.
Thinking is good.
Empathy is good.
Dreams are good.
Cannabis is good.
The Earth is good.
Digestion is good.
My pets are good.
Harmony is good.
Discretion is good.
Shrooms are good.
The Moon is good.
The Stars are good.
The Future is good.
Meditation is good.
Experience is good.
Philosophy is good.
Spirituality is good.
Dissonance is good.
Knowledge is good.
Perspective is good.
Respiration is good.
My Guitars are good.
Being myself is good.
My lovers were good.
Civilization V is good.
My Computer is good.
Self-discipline is good.
Video Games are good.
Having a Body is good.
Having a Mind is good.
Team Fortress 2 is good.
Having a House is good.
Having a Mother is good.
Being a Philosopher is good.
Being an Autodidact is good.
Kerbal Space Program is good.
Being here and now as me is good.
Being alive as a Human Being is good:
Having this opportunity to experience this holy reality is more than I was ever guaranteed.
Thus I give thanks
to all of these things
and Thus I give thanks
for all of these things.
Thus I give thanks.
I intend "holy" to be a sign of reverence and respect as opposed to the assumption that the Universe and our Reality is an artifact of a deity, other than itself and each of us and all of the things within it.

This is not meant in any particular relevant order other than simply increasing physical size of the lines.

Addendum: Certain things pre-require discretion and/or moderation.

"What's good?" is a colloquialism for something between "How are things" and "what's up" here in Northern California, to which I'm never really sure what to answer. I am, however, usually tempted to offer a facetious retort, so I suppose this exercises that urge in a more serious manner.

Addendum redundum: This whole thing sort of looks like an obelisk or sword or something.. cool!
John F McCullagh Jun 2013
Each day I drive the Belt to work
with a million other slobs.
We pilot cars a decade old.
We're lucky, we have jobs.
Being stuck in traffic is no fun
so my eyes search for distraction.
Your bumper- stickered Civic
offers motorists didaction.
You've no shortage of opinions,
you're a child of hope and change.
gay women for abortion rights?
forgive me, that seems strange.
You're all for education ,
and it seems you're down on God
Your promotion of vasectomy
strikes me as rather odd.
We creep along at walking speed
in the misnamed morning rush
I smile at one old sign that reads:
"Lesbians against Bush"
I change lanes and creep up beside
this most amusing creature.
Shock and awe is what I felt-
She is our children's teacher!
alternate title "A Woman with Much on her Mind"
Connor Reid Mar 2014
Motions croak in crimped t-shirts
Peace hurts the leg of 3 wheelers
Spit in a book, carefully holding hands over healers
Frosted articulation of bricks hitting off buildings
The doctor resumes surgery on the filming
Actress gummy mouthed backpacker sharing rooms with a jet-lagger galvanizing goo
If I phone myself, I’ll phone you too
Ad-hoc hop around dentures holding saxophones, laziness is the common king around here
Match the sketch with the deliriant fear free freedom and sneer
Shut the promo drunk and dolo
Potions of pogos bouncing so low
Both bones focal, keeping in a smile from an eye perched over the edge spitting on the populous
Attacking formulas with cruel gruel from the oesophagus
Wilting oxalis wooded in obelisks
Mortal coil in amphetamine greed for the sleep
Positioned slightly awkward and barely out of reach
Been seen being dreams piercing holes in the purple of the seeds
Peace is deemed green, free me from the iron between the sheets
Coins flipped in a river and an etude rings out with a profound sense of urgency
Won't wake up faces blindly painted deranged by a 5 sided box that gave fame to what was contained
Warp the wattage, walk in nervous
Hold cosmic stardust in one hand
Another a phone to call the best man
To marry the two hands and I’m sure the priest will understand
Hairs on the ceiling float through the window and provide an outspoken account of how they are feeling
Canisters of friendship huffed in the backs of vans till passing point seizures explain themselves
9mm film reel candy bars and ring modulation skeletal structure cat gut harps
Never finish a walk to work without beginning the start
Trolleys of Dolly Parton facelifts
Knife cutter butterfly anaesthesia makeshift
Hollow bellies of pardoned mop heads becoming a commodity
I can't say sorry if I begin to speak so oddly
I’d say probably yes if you lit a fire beyond the fence where the old man gambles drop-***** with 50 pence
Bite down on copper, synchronise the action
Winter comes and goes like conversation going out of fashion
Morbid, terra-fin switches waterbeds
Hints home at spit-roasting ostrich heads
Cost and effect, cause and intellect
The castle puts his foot down only to find a horses neck
Zipped up in honey, the combs hive mind should reconsider its self lucky
Unorthodox autodidact naturally diffracting compound eye composes paranoia and lies
The patronage of the savant is murderous and contrived
Its better out than in
The constant metaphor for unluckiness
Is where we begin
Radiance in a hot water semi permeable membrane crescent
Strokes the backs of frogs in the desert, stars iridescent and sun bears a weapon
Hammocks, ****, sweat on the brow, split lips on cornerstones of the solstice in the dead of now
Space-age ape on the country road lets out a cough
Caution to the hissing hills ****** in hidden zygotic havens
Actors have no time to cut themselves shaving
Austro-Bavarian chemical burns Molotov cocktail sewers
Crayons let me draw this face on, paint the day on and on, it gets newer
Its the context at which you and I notice the separation, that cues canned humour
2012
On the planet where I live
gambling and narcissism
are recognized for the diseases they are

racism and homophobia
that's just people being people

Here
having a conversation with some is battle
mental exhibition bouts with jaw juggernauts
most only listen for their position to pounce
Never hearing a thing

favors and helping hands
well laid traps and plans sewing deeply rooted weeds
intended to bind over time
your worth is assessed by how much value you can acquire for other

animals are measured greater than people
it makes sense
People have yet to meet or even be human

Here
I'm not the type of Blackman you see on TV

six feet tall maybe taller over three hundred pounds
a well-read autodidact master of many things

On the planet where I live
that is considered a threat

Here
the goal is to populate Mars
before the pollution on Earth becomes inhospitable
to the people of Earth
after all
Mars is ours for the taking

Here
you're supposed to mow your neighbor's lawn
while your back yard is overgrown
while your kitchen burns down

On the planet where I live
all of this is common knowledge
some say sense
It's spoken of and considered
immoral and deplorable

Here
if you exist in any different or other way
you're labeled
one of the crazies and shunned
you’re supposed to know its wrong
not admit to it



© Christopher F. Brown 2015
Student of Life;
Teacher of myself.
Of This Whelk Hooked Sluggish Autodidact

Nay, despite failing to make the grade,
     this bluesy well red, duff mute
     average white band hit,
     hard knock school alumnus
jack of all trades master of none bumped along

     *** hole cratered steep pitch
     while riding the bus
bullies skewered kosher me all, cannibalized
     carte blanche timid ego

     brandishing exacto knife
     threatening jugular, cuss
sing maniacally pulling out all stops
     going headstrong for this doofuss

Embracing premonition making me mincemeat
     vis a vis via, Atilla the *** plus
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore
     after diet of worms

     as hors d'oeuvre hug guess
if given a choice, would prefer Loch Ness
monster, or the whale that swallowed Jonah,
     either t'would be a quite im press

heave feted feat, versus being poached,
      roasted, skewered burnt alive
perhaps sautéed to feed additionally,
     the Gothic (Jacks sin) five,
the latter adorned with

     Bandolier prototype, whence they would jive
to Vandals mess sigh ya,
     these last yet another contra band
     to play on command, or risk not being
     he gee beegee bing  a live

all thee above iterated blather spluttered
     as punishment against revive
ving human sacrifice by pence hoove lee donning
     a new jersey wordlessly trumpeting, and strive

ving assiduously as a one man lobbyist,
     and aye willingly negotiate
     to take more'n one wive

even though that would be big o' me decor,
thus a last minute reprieve given
     without axing por favor
and black keys handed over

     to Holy Roman Empire in ****
rubble ruins (over the Weeknd), thus brutish nasty,
     and short tempered surprisingly
     (boot not prematurely) ******* bon jour

foo fighters actually (grand
     aery an nah - did a three sixty)
     feting me guest of *** or,
boosting self esteem, the first time
     since being a kid in a candy store

which poetic digression
     did make quite a dee tour,
and bringing detente amidst marauding
     village people hoop reef furred war.
Andy Sep 2017
i have come to believe in an astral rain
void of pain, sand-washed and bathed in chain;
from woodlands birthed.
empty hollow and arrow pierced navel
sever nurturing swallow bond,
still as kundalini pond - forgotten is this soul's bold pyre.
for distant fire closer now than e'er
regret older than thought which never,
alive in silence came - bolder taught and brighter.
my autodidact spirit lost;
some western breadth now more to east no cost
no woman nor man or beast in ahimsa feast.
Lee Peter Apr 2020
Selection Criteria

We seek a person showing an authentic engagement with the culture of language. The applicant needs a broad appreciation of linguistic form and an inclusive approach.

Essential:

• Two good honours degrees from a top performing university - Or relevant experience as an autodidact or dilitante.

• A willingness to appreciate and engage in other people's expression of poetic form.

• Openness to the ways in which language is multimodal and able to blur the distinction between word, voice, sound, body and image, whilst being able to draw upon the conventions of each mode.

Desirable:

• Colourful life-history, and a keen eye/ear for human and natural dynamics, and the capacity to dissolve the distinction.

Please submit sample below:

There was a tree. Indeed, there was a tree... that night we played with Gertrude or some girl or boy or some other echo or other.

Had she not mentioned the issue with the fragmentary interjections by candidates? The capacity of evocation is lost with this fashion for modernism [Golden light of blue buzzard and some such and wot not before azure cream in winter time and  crystalline glaze] and its reflexive interruptions. Perhaps she should start again. [Does it even need to be a word? And what is this anyway?]. Re: Start again - good lord we are forced to read some nonsense [in the steam rows and the bath cabin], often with a similar flow. What about the art of pleasing our palate? We bump our heads against the brackets, elliptical conjurings and compound punctuation: -

Oh! ... Out of time? Battery low? Well, this will have to be the submission then. Good luck.
Arlene Corwin Dec 2016
A Poem For All The Publishers Who Say “No Poetry”

I’ve looked it up a million times –
(a little bit of overstatement never hurts)
I think in meter, think in rhyme.
It suits my temperament.  Reverts
To chimes of nursery rhymes
Instinctive in us all –
This call to childhood’s guiltlessness.
Yet publishers of good repute
Refute this claim
And to their shame,
Their snobbish, profiteering shame,
Say No to poetry.

We should attack!
Abundant in attractiveness are we.
Ever clever, disciplined;
Deep, reflecting all reality:
And yet they say, “NO POETRY,
DO NOT SEND POETRY”.
Refused, rejected
Are we bards dejected?
Never!
We go on forever,
Eager in our hunger.

While you publishers go under,
We are there, bad, corny, muted,
Understated and astut-ed;
Couplets, meters, forms abstract,
Highbrow, lowbrow, autodidact:
Rumbling on like thunder.

A Poem For All You Publishers Who Say “No Poetry” 12.21.2016
A Sense Of The Ridiculous II; Our Times, Our Culture II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;
Arlene Corwin
Satsih Verma Nov 2016
Will not donate
my bloodstained shirt.
It divides the cuffs.

The alphabet turns
around to watch the fall
of syntax.

Everynight I wait
for the moon to rise
from the crescent of golden eyes―

for another encounter
with a god, who
would not listen to soliloquy

of a rich begger―
sitting in the ruins of a temple,
he built of dreams.
Zealousness prevails to amass knowledge
lifequest nsync toward expansive lexicon
extant since yours truly kneehigh toddler
inquisitive mind fired passion to steep me
within inexhaustible voluminous treasure
trove housing increasing bound knowledge

inexplicable to thyself, wherefore heartfelt
ineradicable passion to sequester attention
between newpages of selective genres for
hours experiencing intellectual ecstatic nee
******* excitation sustains purposefulness
as explains escapist redoubt within mental

framework, thee singularly soulful asylum
offering me cerebral satiation, sedation, and
solution to cope with unbearable millstone
linkedin with emotional/psychological pain
wrought courtesy neurological mutation all
throughout tender years, when one doth seek

natural predilections in tandem toward naked
lunch (heady salad days lettuce not go there),
quite the contrary this socially malnourished
individual burrowed within reading material
even now tickles fancy of mine johnny come
lately body electric exploring, crafting, and

allowing milieu writing to pacify, gratify and
codify mindset never entertaining delusions
of grandeur (hypothetically envisioning to
discover friendship (even platonic) regard-
ding another, who exudes similar love with
words, though accepting fickle human nature

at most hope flickr of ephemeral pinterest
maintains attention of anonymous reader
rabbit nibbles morsel of recondite tidbit, and
synchronizing ever so briefly with logophile,
whose aura, charisma, dogma, karma, persona...
hoopfully brings even an ad hoc “FAKE” smile.
Norbert Tasev Jan 26
It is as if, as a intended intention, it was constantly going on, and even the stupidity of the free-thought minds is to be held; Now, beyond the world of tabloid media, the so-called. In the world of cheap, diluent-smelling influencers, which have been abandoned to pop culture, there could be a growing ruthless, almost intentionally brutal-hard competition for the sacred favor of followers and lyrics. Because now it seems as if all and everyone is a cheap, bribing, pathetic Jibs' sensation not only from the wide Cyber ​​network of mass-information digital channels and networks, but also from the increasing decade its rather heating and determines it.

Now they can't dare to listen alone to the reasons of the already completely left -handed, which can be made, to be logically built -in clichés, because they are better off telling others what, where, where, and especially how to do it.

Personality as a temporary or if you like; an intermediate individual, no longer satisfied with the unrepeatable magic and perhaps specialty of the individuality of the individual. Cheap, dilute, reduced simplified sentences are grinding many cheap celebrity presenters on TV just like on the digital wavelength of commercially secured radios, and of course no one guesses, and knows that if pseudo-hazug news and rumors replace a poem, Perhaps the average brainwashed, hazelnuts of wild juggle men would be able to re-discover the small micro-capabilities of their thinking using autodidact methods.

It is as if this current vulnerable life seemed to be a pathetic, complex tangle, from which a safe panic-free release from a safe manifestation on asylum routes, as well as a fled mailer!
Zealousness prevails to amass knowledge
lifequest nsync toward expansive lexicon
extant since yours truly kneehigh toddler
inquisitive mind fired passion to steep me
within inexhaustible voluminous treasure
trove housing increasing bound knowledge

inexplicable to thyself, wherefore heartfelt
ineradicable passion to sequester attention
between newpages of selective genres for
hours experiencing intellectual ecstatic née
******* excitation sustains purposefulness
as explains escapist redoubt within mental

framework, thee singularly soulful asylum
offering me cerebral satiation, sedation, and
solution to cope with unbearable millstone
linkedin with emotional/psychological pain
wrought courtesy neurological mutation all
throughout tender years, when one doth seek

natural predilections in tandem toward naked
lunch (heady salad days lettuce not go there),
quite the contrary this socially malnourished
individual burrowed within reading material
even now tickles fancy of mine johnny come
lately body electric exploring, crafting, and

allowing milieu writing to pacify, gratify and
codify mindset never entertaining delusions
of grandeur hypothetically envisioning to
discover friendship (even platonic) regard-
ding another, who exudes similar love with
words, though accepting fickle human nature

at most hope flickr of ephemeral pinterest
maintains attention of anonymous reader
rabbit nibbles morsel of recondite tidbit, and
synchronizing ever so briefly with logophile,
whose aura, charisma, dogma, karma, persona...
hoopfully nets/ brings even ad hoc “FAKE” smile

courtesy buzzfeeding lapsed adulterer,
whose prickly propensities
no longer promulgated –
illicit flagrante delicto behaviour condemned
nearly plunging papa into divorce court.
dee Feb 24
When you lose your mind to find your soul.
There's pieces of you that are left behind on purpose.
Pieces that are lost from your mind,
that you have to find again.
Chunks of me were knocked out by devotion.
Blessed with gifts of a reconstructor,
Given the title "autodidact".
When all the love 1 human can channel has gone dismissed
Do you know how much willpower it takes
for that human to learn not just to love again
To love themselves over the expected limit.
I begin to think I've done it all wrong.
There's this selfish dedication that I have towards myself.
I refuse to indulge in any type of intimacy.
Afraid of picking up pieces that are supposed to be apart of me.
I can only allow myself to love me.
Anything other than that is foreign to me.
I do not need your commitment
I have shown myself that word is an understatement.
I wipe my own tears.
I hug myself.
I wake up and force myself to eat when I do not want too.
That is the allegiance I have for myself.
I do not NEED you.
So I HAVE TO be everything I want in the next so I do not
fail myself by begging like a dog just for reciprocation.
I'm labeled independent by some.
Characterized myself as foolish,
for not realizing that it is adequate for any version of love
to love me as much as I do.
I'm really hard bodied fr lol
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Apr 2020
I have always admired people who were not afraid to be their real selves, who listened not to the prevailing clamor emanating from salons, but to their own hearts and minds. Mary Wollstonecraft (1759-1797) was her own person and was not abashed to state openly and unequivocally her beliefs. Her most famous work, A VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN, championed the notions of reason and education not just for men, but also for women, and for children especially. She was an autodidact, perforce. She was indeed the forerunner of the women's liberation movement, but she also wrote novels, a history of the French Revolution through which she lived, treatises, letters (not postcards) of intellectual substance, even a children's book. She lived an unconventional life, having children out of wedlock, for example. To say she was way ahead of her time is, of course, a huge understatemnt. But the aforementioned are the reasons why I fell in love with Mary Wollstonecraft.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet, a novelist, and a human-rights advocate his entire adult life.
Graff1980 Jun 2020
While you were stuck,
getting drunk,
and punched
by your punk
boyfriend,

I was out
trying to make
poetic impressions
to inform other humans
what lies before them.

While your redneck
gotta get some ****,
barely ever there
partner who only cares
when it’s convenient
was getting mean
in your apartment,

I was out trying to write
love, wisdom,
and a sea of compassion
into this desert dry
dismal life.

While you were celebrating
race bating,
rich men taking
all that our labors
are making
while claiming
some poorer
population
is polluting
our great nations,

I was studying
and working
towards
self-improvement.

I know you tried to teach me
how to be mean and greedy,
but even though
I’m an amazing
autodidact,
I just can’t seem
or even want to
cash in on the
***** everyone else
capitalistic scheme,
American dream.
The writers

Autodidact I read not entirely I'm a trained chef
a purser and a milker of cows on a farm
Which the literary cognoscenti find amusing.
A leading newspaper invited some famous
intellectuals to talk about the future
of which they knew nothing but showed
the arrogance of people
far removed ordinary people's life.
I have noticed when they talk about democracy
they mean their rights
when it comes to the man in the street
they think some restrictions of freedom are needed
as their freedom leads to chaos.
That is why when the famous talk about Israel
they wrap their opinion
in several woolly scarves as not to upset anyone.

— The End —