Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Terry O'Leary Jan 2014
as the PROPHETS of profits, WE lead and WE’re fair
while WE’re living the life of the poor BILLIONAIRE
– silver yachts, pearly castles, cash (plenty to spare) –
with the world on OUR backs... ah! the burdens WE bear!

being HAVES (not the have-nots) as nature decrees
means WE’re certainly the better (they’re vermin on ******).
if they pray for a lift in their dark fantasies,
WE just kick ’em downstairs, get ’em off of their knees.

yes, WE offer great jobs (much too busy OURSELVES!)
for maintaining the toilets, restacking the shelves,
and WE teach ’em to fear god and play with the elves,
thus dispelling ideas where the dark demon delves.

though they build mighty bridges, twin towers and more,
peddle pizzas and popcorn, sell guns door-to-door,
still they gotta have BOSSES to tell ’em the score
else WE’d never be needed, WE’d thrive nevermore.

when OUR profits are plunging, they do their part too
for they dine on the dole! yes, no hullabaloo!
soon OUR fortunes  redouble, rebound and accrue –
since WE fare well without ’em, WE bid ’em adieu.

’stead of wishing for welfare and standing in queues
or parading with pickets (look! holes in their shoes!),
they’d be better off scabbing to save union dues.
while WE whistle and warble, they’re singing the blues.

whether heroes or hoboes, like spiders and lice
they just crawl all around us in life’s paradise,
but WE’re patient, big hearted and oft sacrifice,
spewing charity, kindness (though each has its price).

if they’re beaten or punctured or suffer assault,
are unhealthy or crippled or walk with a halt,
or ******* or helpless, it’s all their own fault –
just like US they should worship the DOLLAR exalt’!

protesters and loud mouths, you’ll find ’em aplenty
some older, some younger, the worst not yet twenty.
they’re shameless and brazen (unwashed, soiled and scenty)
impugning the prestige of brave COGNOSCENTI.

if they’ve got clashing colors (or shades in between)
or opposing beliefs in the hidden unseen,
well, WE’ll always exploit it, deflecting their spleen,
for with god on each side, would WE dare intervene?

WE maintain many methods to keep ’em in chains –
daily rags and the tube spin OUR circus campaigns:
“to pretend you’ve a voice”, an announcement explains,
“you can vote and decide on which ONE of US reigns”.

OUR policemen protect US, they stay on the ball
(they arrest ’em, no questions per law’s protocol,
and then jam ’em in jail with their backs to the wall) –
if you’ve lucre for lawyers there’s justice for all.

down the ROYAL road of justice WE march all alone
– WE condemn their defiance, set ways to atone –
since WE’re sinless, unsullied, WE cast the first stone
(while WE cloak REGAL fetor with eau de cologne).

politicians, bald bankers, grand idols galore,
attend meetings, fete banquets in which they explore
how to rid US of rodents (the weak and the poor) –
well, just round up the riff-raff, dispatch ’em to war!

ah! OUR wars are, well, just...... just a thing of the past
........... and the present............... and future... WE sure make them last!
if they frown as they gaze (Armageddon!) aghast,
then WE smile back with pleasure, OUR treasures amassed.

useless ranting and raving (in rags, when they’re clad),
leads to losing their teeth (my! their gums are... egad!).
WE’re unselfish, indulgent, WE’d never be mad
if they drowned in the sounds of themselves feeling sad.

as the paupers are princes in midnight’s domain,
they have pipe dreams to lose, certainly nothing to gain
if they’re hoping OUR fortunes will wither and wane –
for “WE’re here by god’s will” as WE often explain.

yes, they wish to be US, with OUR wisdom and grace,
keeping up with ol’ CROESUS, maintaining the pace.  
but perverseness or rancor? they’ll see not a trace –
for WE hold ’em at bay with a fist in the face.

WE’re la CRÈME de la CRÈME, yes! the proud UPPER CRUST,
and OUR clothes are the finest, OUR hair never mussed –
WE imbue ’em with piety, duty and trust
and they’re fed bread and water (if feed ’em WE must).

but they’re thieving, aggrieved, want a piece of OUR PIE
and request WE endure ’em, see EYE to black eye.
since they live in OUR land where OUR strict rules apply,
they must feast on the crumbs that We cast to the sty.

though OUR largesse and bounty WE don’t mean to flaunt,
yet the pittance WE pay ’em they surely can vaunt –
salty peanuts and pretzels (what more could they want?)
thereby keeping their kiddies so healthily gaunt.

yes, there’s room for the rabble (the back of the bus)
’cause WE treat ’em like equals, so what’s all the fuss?
all can rise to the top (yes! it’s always been thus),
to the suites in OUR penthouse (to sweep up and dust).

while OUR CHILDREN have tutors, the finest of schools
(being bred for the forefront, THEY’re nobody’s fools),
their own school of hard knocks teaches: “follow the rules”,
building brawn ’stead of brains and broad backs strong as mules’.

and to keep ’em in line (to ensure WE prevail)
WE now monitor phone calls and read all their mail
(civil rights? what a notion! at best a detail!)
and if worse comes to worst...... well...... guantanamo jail!

WE’ve OUR quandaries and questions and headaches full blown
(like deciding design and decor of OUR throne...
whether diamonds or rubies... to gemstones WE’re prone) .
when WE deign to appease ’em, WE chuck ’em a bone.

now you know all OUR problems, OUR pains and travails
– like preparing foreclosures, evictions  and sales –
but WE’ve no need for worries or gnawed fingernails,
’cause WE’re sailing OUR yachts through tempestuous gales
(with them bailing OUR banks when OUR stock market fails)
sipping daiquiri sours, champagnes, ginger ales.
:-)
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2016
sometimes a private message on the sly
outlasts a poem,
i'm no quack - my prescription list
if a bunch of theories,
i can't the Hippocratic oath even if i wanted to,
which also means a theory here,
or a theory there can't hurt -
it's levitating as a chanced choice of consideration,
in terms such stated, there are
the questions of consolidating the problem
socrates faced as to how confront a unity
of particulars and universals -
well, a mathematical impression
with the prime expression of division would be
a start, a comprehension of units
akin to millimetre, centimetre and mile
would be due a referencing to.

i hardly know what to call the cartesian
subsequence equation -
sartre tried to invert it -
let's say that thinking is an *essence

and being is existence -
drag in newton's causality and einstein's
lack of causality - i do believe
descartes is pivotal in terms of causality
and what existentialism suggested
via sarte: that existence precedes essence
or vice versa - causality i should think -
but if the itemisation of space
as divided enduring placebos of millimetre
and centimetre with each point
as the Freudian id to divide is loosely estimated -
i understand Sartre's argument when
being a revisionist via Descartes -
existence does indeed precede essence -
you learn from your mistakes -
first can existence example itself
before thought (essence) begins its learning process -
indeed it can't be otherwise, intuition
does exist to a cloning zenith reached by animals
who're only vociferous via the medium
of onomatopoeia - ferrous sounds -
but among men there are more enzyme-related
processes to create the Enlightenment from
the Renaissance - the latter an artistic progress
the former the scientific -
study chemistry or physics and philosophy becomes
a playground - biology for some reason
has too many octopus tentacles attached to
obvious things - mutations of Chernobyl to mind -
and history, **** sake's the stone age and the
17th century will deviate far between on the spectrum
of analysis - there is much more bureaucracy from
the 17th century than crude cave drawings from the stone
age - i'm hardly saying it's not plausible
but the time-scale leveraged with boiling a cup of tea
is the worst kinds of distraction - scout's honour,
cross my heart and count to 20 in under 10 seconds.
anyway, for the majority, people are hardly
innovators, a few can claim to be a pure res cogitans
(a thinking thing), since such a being would require
an id scale of division, not necessarily a scale of division
akin to the majority of people, with their
9 to 5 working days, monday through to sunday,
january through to december -
with the latter list of exemplification we're talking
about a res narro / a narrative thing - alt. include
res transloquor (a thing talking over -
a loss of etiquette when talking over older people)
etc. -
           since i find that thinking is primarily
about innovative feats - but most of the time what we
call thinking is actually narration -
a book never written, an idea never materialised -
and the existence of the Buddhist "mindfulness" /
simply not thinking, a full cartesian sum embodiment,
akin to driving a car, a bike, whatever you like.
or i could have written about the news review
articles from sunday: the boo! that's Broadmoor,
the lush living conditions in blocks 2 & 5
and the squalor in blocks 1 & 6...
names include the murderers:
jonathan lowe (aged 52) writing a letter about
the Ritz hotel like conditions in 1898,
croquet and cricket, tea weak beer and gambling,
tobacco luxury and servants via the lesser
fortunate inmates,
william chester minor's addition to the inaugural
edition of the oxford english dictionary (ex-military
surgeon he was),
chippendale bookcases, bathed once a week,
shaved three times a week,
(now you can understand my fascination with
Ezra Pound) - thomas harry a would be assassin
of the p.m. Gladstone of 1893 walking about
the asylum gardens mentioning Gladstone's
last plea with a smile akin to the eager buds of
may appealing to harry's sense of "remorse",
a dutchman who attacked his wife with a mallet
pleading to renter the lunatics' Ritz circa 1895 -
a jack the ripper suspect amongst them -
dr. richard brayn hardly ***** burroughs' dr. benway -
a madman had never so much luck under **** brayn -
but the less fortunate remarked:
'my name is T Perkins, i have been murdered here,
by those that know not what they do,
because they have ether in their heads!'
i'd guess ammonia to add to such a confession,
or skunk ***** to mind the least.
thomas cutbrush was the ripper suspect.
jimmy saville wetted his ***** in the female wards...
can't complain with ******* adolescent girls
why complain about ******* crazed chicks -
Michael Meyers in the room? i thought so,
democracy is the ideal export, people know
jack the ******* by compliments from the toilet's
perfumery as described: strawberry scented,
mm hmm - Kentucky tattooed on my left buttock's
cheek. but boo! a.k.a. Broadmoor is closing,
pristine lunatics on the street - mind you
in the news review they had an article about
seymour hersh - what he called
dum-dum and darth vader of the galactic empire
surround fashion trends of 9 / 11...
joy uu bushy and st. francis cheney -
prior to this poem looking at russian sables in
fur farms going berserker over the size of the cages,
a lynx rummaging in a theory of geometry
walking out lemniscate treading on its own faeces,
and i felt good for the jews
not wearing leather on Yom Kippur -
in their orthodox black attire walking into a
synagogue wearing trainers -
yep, lived next to a synagogue for several years,
a flat above an estate agents...
but of course weddings and mazel tov a rekindled
happy event!
scurrying like rats in an area not allowing pride -
apologies for the comparison,
but Gants Hill wasn't exactly Golders Green,
well the Hanukkha did stand proud at the roundabout,
but then the social project took over
and subsequent evictions proceeded -
Bangladesh came over - and half of Pakistan.
Johnny Noiπ Sep 2018
XIII fuga                    - et si qui facit paleas:
Charles, et valorem et ex expansion Planck praeclaram
nobilis; maybe; Hic igitur ****, non est iustus,   lassus
salus, *** de actione retractationis homines qui volunt
foot vivere fine praeclara dierum scents *** annis Italiae
laminate ea vita est; Et factum est autem pietatem,
ideo quiescere de deserto vero ratio imaginis;
et ad martyrium Petri d'Einstein Domus page
Gloria ego sentias from ea in domo et in praesidio
Ad secundum mutationes separate confinia ita ut
I feel inexcusables vinegar, and vinum necessarium usum,
et cera alba dam mulier de terra per Einstein,       quod est
From Palma commando in securitatem et ens in lectulo
in mes, et malus est emptio principle fidem in tenebris;
Mode non sint plures tuum, sicut before annos ***,
regnum; Nudus *** Iudaeis Veni enim in splendoribus
volutpat extremi naturam Einstein et Lucrecia plenum
esset violent; Fit consume in coetibus; Illi, ut supra
dictum est in harenae "in project Baptismatum,
et quod peccata temporis: non enim dictum est, sed est
a *** sermo; Extra ordinem infantem pessulum ostii
aperu *** nuper judicatis Inaugurated in caelum
Einstein scriptor COCAINUM, ***,  qui Quod Sit adhuc
iudicio contendam cognitione communicare debetis noctu
Recensiones est mater mea et qui ex eo est europa
universalis filias regis, Hoc modus est frigus, et reginae
Alba Classroom volumine in comitatu Fusion-A mortuo Salis
Einstein scriptor ventus in flumine et in parte ostensum est,
in superiors, quia dum fieri potest ut ego postulo
mutare vel vitrum, Quod free mortuus quod autem ad
pecuniam Causidicali morbo in gym Given distantiam,
Einstein matris auditum edissere noctu Gratias tibi agimus,
oscula *** ad te in nocte, et mortuus est in Europa et
quod ducit ad festum celebrants diem pro habitu partium
naturam acutius QUI NATUS selio in domum Iuda in
desertum sortis erant, quod e Rerum ire ad unus de
you benefit from amicitias parabant regina of this;     Num erit
Crassitudo patrui eius Omnibus abstinet et DECREMENTUM;
Et tollet Northmanni locus in fine vitae, et febricitantem.

Flight 13 -       makes hay of Charles from the expansion
of the value of the Planck Institute, Nobel Prize; maybe;
This man is not just tired of hesitation,                  to those who want
safety more dynamic than the many excellent times to live 30 years
in the Italian duck:
This is the life plate & it is a pity;              Therefore unless the rest
of the waste system of the image; Einstein's home page
& martyrdom of Peter's Glory around the house &
around the terraces, will think about me? According to the changes
that evictions the use of wine vinegar becomes necessary;
Some white wax Einstein, from the land, that is,
De Palma command in the security being in bed
In the table,              the bad credit to purchase principle in the dark;
It was found out that at the age of 30;             the kingdom of naked
Jews as white as last weekend &  the full nature of Einstein's
manicurists & violence;           This is done through the rings
that consumers of the soul,              as has been shown above,
That is in the sand       "in the project baptisms for those sins,
as has been true when the word for it may be,          however,
the baby, bolt cutting inaugurated recently that opens judges
in the sky of Einstein's *******, 30 of which there is no other;
the knowledge of him communicates there also ought to be a last
wash at night,      I will execute judgmental reviews for the mother
& the European; the rest of this mode is cool & the Queen's White
Hall dead volume in the company Fusion-A Salt;  They came to the river
& on the other side as shown by Einstein
together into the higher,               because as long as it is, that the work of
free to change the crystal from the dead;               The right to the money,
far from a place of exercise of the disease Dada
Einstein's tonight and we thank you tell the hearing
with his mother,          30 kiss you on the night before he died
in Europe on the feast of celebrating the day,         for his part,
entering into the state of Nature younger than the instruments
home for a lifetime in the wilderness of Judah,      which lieth
in one of the things but these are the goods of love,
but they are prepared for a queen, from the thickness
of the self-native wife & shrinkage;
That is normally located at the end of life & fever.
GQ James Feb 2021
Homelessness to evictions to robberies,
Why all the poverty and violence?
Why can't we share wealth, peace and love?
Is it that hard?
It shouldn't be so hard,
It's actually pretty easy,
You eating while your people starving,
What kinda person are you?
We can all eat not just you,
Treat our brothers and sisters as equals,
Not treat em like peasants.

It has to get better,
We gotta treat our brothers and sisters better,
If you eating then feed your family,
Never let your family starve,
There's more love to be shared than hate.

Our way of living has to change,
Things only change when we change them,
Change doesn't happen on its own.
DON'T LET YOUR FAMILY STARVE WHILE YOU'RE EATING.
Thomas W Case Nov 2021
Three burly sheriffs showed
up at my neighbors
house yesterday.
Scowls on scarred faces.
Tattered lives, tarnished
brains.
Five minutes later,
they were walking my
friend out in handcuffs.
He shuffled, head down.
Autumn frowned and the
leaves scuttled away in
disgust.

Today, the vultures swooped
in, picked the bones of all
his earthly possessions that
littered what was once his
front lawn.
Jackals, and hideous
hyena faced men and
women took the last of
his things.  

Even though he was
arrested, he still
grows.
and although they are
free, they die more
daily in their own
private evictions.
I've seen more
humanity at a
hanging.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikYKOiMoVOY&

check out my youtube channel
should the old team not
like you being at the place
they'll promptly vacate
your personal space

it pays not to rub them
up the wrong way
if you do that'll shorten
the length of stay

evictions can occur
without a warning's alert
which will find you
on the outer outskirt

they are proficient
in hurling weight around
on taking objection
to any unwanted sound

these landlords won't
negotiate tenancy time
they'll dispose of you
like a luckless dime
DC raw love Dec 2014
with the sun hidden
by the pouring rain
with a small glimpse of sunshine
through the clouds of pain

with the winds of evictions
with falling trees
as the flood is upon us
from the breaking of a levee

as the clouds breakaway
in the darkness of night
with devastation upon us
during the morning light

with the smell of death
lingering through the air
people crying
looking for their dead

no place to go
no food or water to be had
no sign of help
we’d be better off dead

why does this have to be
why did it happen to me
why  doesn’t anyone care for me

left me with a shattered life
of anger flowing through my veins
Thomas W Case Jan 10
Three burly sheriffs showed
up at my neighbors
house yesterday.
Scowls on scarred faces.
Tattered lives, tarnished
brains.
Five minutes later,
they were walking my
friend out in handcuffs.
He shuffled, head down.
Autumn frowned and the
leaves scuttled away in
disgust.

Today, the vultures swooped
in, picked the bones of all
his earthly possessions that
littered what was once his
front lawn.
Jackals, and hideous
hyena faced men and
women took the last of
his things.  

Even though he was
arrested, he still
grows.
and although they are
free, they die more
daily in their own
private evictions.
I've seen more
humanity at a
hanging.
Here's a link to my brand new poetry reading on You tube.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psGsLxRoaII
Butch Decatoria Nov 2020
We outgrow our homes,
Moving on up, penthouse suites,
Or shopping cart roads

We fit in boxes
A shell of comforting walls
Apartmentalized

Rent to own abodes
Timeshare of lives all alone
The walls we’ll outgrow

To stand on clean sand
The Beach on clear nights, star-filled—
Soul outgrows the hand.
Butch Decatoria Nov 2020
I wonder how Trump must feel, losing his house,
Right about now families suffer the cold
I wonder if he’s familiar with empathy,
Fallen in apathies, feeling simply
This is what it’s like…

I tell my mother
That it’s bullying when they say **** like
“Might as well pack up now I’m filing for your eviction”
**** like that, in a time of COVID,
You must file with the Court for assistance.
I don’t need to tell my mother
How to fight the hatred,
Struggling to get by
One way or another,
This is what it’s like…
(Thy neighbor as thy brother?)


The caustic relationships we **** ourselves to have,
As we keep the dust swept under the rug,
As we’re drained of our chi, convince ourselves perhaps
It’s meant to be, friends to the end of our childhood,
I’m exhausted hoping that you’d keep your word
Adult friends learn common curtesy during
childhood, ya know

Now I’m grown and what I know is —
         There’s someone you know standing out in the cold
Waiting for the bus, close to midnight
And you’d rather drink and ****,
My apologies, I don’t do either, mothertruckers.
In the desert it’s a must to sweep out the dust
Last and final warning,
Cold waiting at the bus —stop...
Robert Andrews Feb 2017
****....

**** these city streets
**** these ***** dark city streets
on a hot night
It's the blues
It's the blues
It's walking Washington blues

Goin' street light to street light
there's nothin' quite like it
under the light of the sun
It's the spaces between
the world that's unseen
that keeps you on the run

I slide past the ladies
with their ******* whispers
and the skeleton ******
all covered in blisters
and I...
hurry on

Past dead end alleys
with doorways to no where
and windows that show
what you don't want to know
and I...
hurry on, hurry on

There are knife end transactions
fatal attractions
your money your lover your life
So I pick up the pace
where the drive-bys are frequent
leaving their pock marks
on brick work and cement
and I...
hurry on, hurry on

I step over needles
by graffiti with blood stains
It's only the ghetto
exposing it's hearts pain
and I....
hurry on, hurry on

but don't cross the road
where nobody goes
for I've heard you'll never return....

So I duck the bite
of the lead mosquitoes
and slip behind trash cans
where death is a slum lord
and there's always new tenants
...coat hanger evictions
AND ISN'T LIFE WORTH MORE THAN THIS!!!!

It's the blues..
It's the blues..
It's the walking Washington blues.
****!

Roosty
The Apokálypsis is triggered and in a fraction of seconds, all appear in the premature appearance of Vernarth when all were waiting for him. Saint John the Apostle came from the iridescent nimbus escorting the curtain of othónes that filtered the Didaché that Saint John the Apostle brought in his patronage to make him a fellow disciple of primitive Christianity, and of the subtraction of the Twelve Apostles in congruence with the Twelve Islands of the Dodecanese to carry him apart from controversies. His purgation would vanish and a certain dating would begin that would merge with the thunderous projectile that would trigger from the Horcondising, then to Piacenza and would end up on Patmos tri locusing ..., it was a parapsychological projectile or mass of light in the score of the Didache's prayer or Propedeutics , which would date the demarcation of his chest when he was cracked by this pellet with a mass of light that pierced his fearlessness, and then would make him wake up from his parapsychology witnessing the Judeo-Hebraic catharsis at the beginning of the premiere of his religious ordinance in the Didache , providing the Judeo-Christian transition that would displace him through the centuries in the hecatomb of his Auric parapsychological mass, which would particularly make the fundamentalist predilection to inhale his intuition letting him know how to sustain himself more active than anything, but next to ascend to the Iridescent Nimbus where awaited him the radicality of the Mashiach, reviving in his primary ego baptism and Eucharist as or fragmentary of the biblical Canon making him the son of the apostolic patriarchs. Vernarth felt yielded but at the same time encouraged to know that the trajectory of the munitions with the mass of light would free him ..., and would take him through the epistles of the Codex or Codex Raedus, to be escorted by the Sybillas. The thickness of light that passed through the thymus gland reverberated in his Áspis Koilé that would hold it by the antilabé or Hoplon's hilt, which jointly ran the runaway projectile that was formed from his vigor and free Corpus that collided with the Kosmous where it was already extreme with the Arms of Christi in the patriarchal that ordered him to be part of the splendid Greek Orthodox Universe, specifically in the aedicule (Koilé, as a hollow shield) or Holy Sepulcher that made him exempt from the catalog of men sons of Hashem with more than two or three light paths in the Bios that had happened and that will happen! All clemency formed bewitching allegories that came from Antioquia that were contractually discovered interpolated into authentic adulterous women, who still depended on his inert entity, abandoning his nocturnal and spurious ethereal body.
Along with the chiaroscuro, the beams of mystery were transposed as a star that approached the vicinity of the Megaron that was anguished at the cracked guideline of the Opistodomos, indicating that the zoomorphic figures were coming that adorned all the symmetries that were crowned in the twelve stars that were emancipated from the orbit of Aurion. Vernarth felt an excessive burning on the back of him, making him prevail over crying, evictions of courage along with angels who carried flames that were absorbed in the chiaroscuro that sought to save him from all external subjects, like souls that intended to devour his absolved soul from Kathartiryum.

Between remanded expulsions they headed to the limen of Erebos that he transplanted from all the hollows that had teleported him from the infinitive of parapsychology, leaving him on the edge of his purification in his abscess like a skylight of Erebos, which would carry him into wandering spaces that ignored who could take pity on his conditional freedom at the expense of being freer than any body and his immortal soul, to cohabit in competitive everlasting worlds, which would personify him as superabundant of an underground world, towards the gift union to meet all his close beings free of all their redeeming quality, sentient if of all affiliation of the Caligo or Calígine that did not confiscate any hint of proceeding with or without senses that could thunder in the Vanguards of the Vernarthian Poems, where the Aether held him like the Porpax or bracelet in its primordial phase that would illuminate the vast earth, considering it as custodian and with assignee shadowing of Darkness where every fabulous impression would have to consider him a primal being of the Kosmous and the Calígine or darkness, which would soon carry the fabulous shudder of the introductory Aether where the Kingdom continues to feed back mortals and immortals, while all millennial past approaches the future with great commemorative glosses that revive, and make everyone join together in their commemorations, nevertheless leaving in their usufruct Heaven in the canopies of each dwelling, and of the future Hebrew that will be reborn in future Hellenic reincarnations, even when it is not intoned the hymn that will fly in colossal times.

The sacred word of the Apokálypsis was written alone in regard to the fact that it would not happen yet, where a holy case could be precipitated in a profusion of the garment that waved for whoever decided to see everything that is intangible, and that his diadem would alight before all who do know that they can aspire to a ceremony with hundreds of aid before all those who come saved from the Kathartyrium, narrating to him with winds and privileges that they wanted to possess him and warn him revived, before being handed over to the Mashiach who was moving before Vernarth. Swift golden eagles run on the roof of the Opistódomos, where the wrathful Eden gurgled that only Venarth could distinguish once he grasped the massive edges of the Himation. Here he kneels and asks the Mashiach, to grant him a tiny consent before escorting him, to reunite with all his descendants who would leave with the Hexagonal Birthright.

From the six edges that appeared in the Hexagonal Birthright, the identity silhouette of Eurydice, King David, Raeder, Petrobus, Saint John the Apostle, and Vernarth, once close to them, would go on the sixth Giga camel so as not to question themselves in some reverse diaspora that takes them into organisms where they do not wish their souls to be transferred. The verses booed by the Old Testament wind, or from the Old Testament, were invented in the analogy of Vernarth's Emptying or Ekénosen, leaving behind the footprints of the sixth ungulate, consolidating its sleeping body between lavenders and astragalus that were re-grafted from annihilation on the same ruins of the silence of himself (Myein). Vernarth was already chaff of the wind and incarnation of the same chaff that rose from the plantar legs of the sixth Giga, here they will be transfigured in its immaculate spectrum with golden trim by stoically using the Himation, and knowing how to reject any apathy at the power to silence his senses and ignore, that seven steeds with their vermilion eyes would pass at great speed and in the opposite direction, trying to ****** the kenosis of any of the six that claimed to be usufructuaries in the work of who can take the Life of any fiduciary steed that take away in your boldness.

The Sixth Camel was dislocated in the polygons of the Star of David, seeking the six edges of each linear that was destined to the six concatenations of the six bifurcations of the Hexagonal Birthright, forming the hexagram that somehow impelled them from the coincident central of the segments that would unite them even though they were intervals of each planting of each camel, simulating a hundred kilometers of distance to be the closest to the Opistodomes that would receive them in the resplendent Cinnabar flowing in triangulated equilaterals within the conformation of the Vas Auric or Beatific Medallion that it floated within the naos and the ceremonial physical structure. Everything was attributed to the Entasis of the Megaron that was combined in the mechanics of triangles that were attached to the concentric one of the Vas Auric, there were a hundred kilometers of routes where each dilation narrowed in dimension zero that bounced with another congruent zero of the six points of the Primogeniture and the vertices of the Star of David, from the fords that waved the generous Semitic skills, which alluded to the other haven of the concentric hard shoulder that turned them into six curbs of the same seat that was engaged in the Kenosis in the validated proportion of the auction that became friendly on the sixth camel, very close to him until the last step of the plantar basement is issued, thus allowing the same fatal wind from the desert of eternal life to destine him to the esotericism of human nature dressed in military garb , heir to all the panoply that would desert its guarantees when the sixth camel approached the first Giga where Saint John the Apostle was going. Everything was understood as a Vas Auric or reliquary of the Seal of Solomon immersed in the six points that symmetrically coincide with six dramatic points that would indicate the contiguity of the last hundred kilometers before reaching the last second and of the mystical power that would become resonant with six universes to later be transferred to the mighty Duoverso in each bias. The regular hexagon that King David conceived was made by lowering his head, almost touching the palfrey of the steeds that followed him rapidly running near his camel convoy, the opposing forces joined the hexagram of the Birthright in the Pentagram of King David, demonstrating little clarity of biblical innate gnosis to attend to the Old Testament of the remote metamorphosis, lavenders were already authorized that would penetrate into the Dipylones of the Megaron, in the face of any confusion that will be indicated as an Agia or a splendor synagogal that Vernarth presumably already dimensioned of the Universe behind his back of this same one so as not to revile the presence of the Mashiach by taking him out of the abject Kosmous, which filled him with ill-contained hopes of bad conjectures and stale past pundonor ..., not being self-referential! The twilight was unwound in the midst of the light orientation of the Star that would guide them as Unitarianism through the retrospective that would be added in intrepid pasts within another equal to himself, to make him Israelite-Hellenic, who would safeguard the Apokálypsis as the shield of emptying of his body granted by the Kenosis immersed in a Kosmous or recondite body, taking him together with Saint John the Apostle to the Dodecanese and the dodecagon itself, full of tribes that do not reposition themselves from the mega imagination when shepherding and traveling the immeasurable distances of Universal Faith submerging in fire and water, inciting the Macedonian Mezuzah as a pentagram or Five Strokes that vindicate the "V" Lacedaemon as a Penta or five that would initiate Vernarth as an inheritance of the world where everything is mentioned in the Fifth Dimension or Ependysi Imatos in the Investiture of the Himation of Vernarth.
Apokálypsis
Mark Wanless Apr 2018
the Stoffers hid the ****** globs
in the field of glen rice
good fertilizer,  good hiding
after a few days it could not be
scanned as anything other than excrement

Closen knew the Stoffers tricks
but could not scan due to protocol
each expel of energy was recorded
classified and supervised by the
KLen government.. an expenditure
of energy meant lives lost.

Closen knew this from the time
when he could remember. His father,
a corporal of the KLen, was able to
feed his family enough.  No raids,
no evictions, no riots,
not in his sector.

he did what he could when he could
and was loyal to the KLen
a strong wise man, in a time
of turmoil, choosing.
Closen was a good man
new
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2022
I’m running out of money,
but I’ve still got some time
and only just one question
…can you lend me a dime

My dollars spent on something
that quarters can’t divide
my nickels for what’s come and gone
…can you lend me a dime

Tomorrow comes as landlord,
whose lease you can’t cosign
my place reserved but not in ink
…can you lend me a dime

My tenancy is in arrears,
foreclosing on my mind
last chance to stay evictions sway
…can you lend me a dime

(Dreamsleep: January, 2022)
I pray my holy rosary
a whispered treasury
sincere convictions
the devils' evictions
I use my mother's beads
Catholic's sacred seeds.
I pray my holy rosary
a whispered treasury
sincere convictions
the devils' evictions
I use my mother's beads
Catholic's sacred seeds.
Under a year-round summer sky,
She sits her almond brown, mocha dipped, sun kissed melanin in elegance on the corner of NW 3rd avenue and 11th terrace
Longing, to be seen and heard like wrongfully imprisoned innocence
Sentenced to a life of silence. Locked, behind cemented walls of Domestic Violence

She sits, and every time I visit, she begins to shake to the rhythm of PTSD,
Causing words to quaver behind twitching lips
As she gathers enough strength to tell me, that she remembers
she remembers, the feeling of imprinted hands
Collapsing the walls of her trachea, impeding any oxygen she fights for
I…can’t…breathe, three words, that happen to be sharper
Than any man-made blade carved out of desperation

She remembers, the days when her neighbors
Would physically and emotionally degrade her, by profaning
the exterior of her sacred temple until the interior
of her soul feels inferior with abusive words like blight and colored
Before being pinned and slapped with federally funded acts
plagued with vague diction strengthening the hate
behind negative depictions of her children until they were faced with evictions

She remembers, the day she was *****, forcefully ran through with an interstate
Leaving survivors, to experience the long-term side effects
Of common economic depression caused by the perpetuation
of Eisenhower’s vision of systemic segregation

Building roads through middle class black owned businesses and homes
This is for her, who’s hips would sway to the rhythm
and blues of Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday
Hoping the day will come when she can reclaim her name
The Harlem of the South, formerly known as Colored Town
Where dreams seem to be as barren as vacant lots

This is for her, because she continues to persevere in elegance
with her almond brown, mocha dipped, sun kissed melanin
This is for Overtown, so please do me a favor and watch your mouth
when you decide to come around NW 3rd avenue and 11 Terrace
preservationman Dec 2024
Evictions left and right
People forced into a plight
In a darkened tunnel with no light
Pavement Plaza
Pushed onto the streets
No home and nothing to eat
It was a complex and a landlord with no heart
Some were Seniors and changes in family households
No means to make end’s meat
Humanitarian termination
Understanding in complex bills need to be paid
Meanwhile the evicted are stuck with no shade
Some had lived in the complex for years
Now people loss their preserver
The streets became their home
They are all alone
Pavement Plaza is no place to live
Especially living in the outdoors among the elements
Pavement Plaza being the evicted address
The evicted are now under stress
A Landlord could care less.
Chandy Aug 2020
Taxes
Deadlines
Evictions
Payments to meet
Grocery store exclusive meat
Up to ten dollars
Wish I could eat for free
Like the birds
In the park
Deer
In the backyard
Bats
In the darkness
If only their life was easy too
Gotta think about living
By that, I mean surviving
Protecting family with your biology
No fancy tools used to get to the same end:
Death.
Was it always like this?
Crying over the thought of tomorrow?
May be mature, but I thought it was a gift
The more I'm aware
The more I wish that my mind was bare.

— The End —