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My best moments are when I am awe in…

Sacred Cowed

As sum what
Cowed by life
I axed God
Too meat me
Half weigh
In what I thought was
A perfectly reasonable bequest
And little
Did I no
As God took a weigh
My doubt
Though I was knot
Quiet
Assure
I was awe in

The notion of heaven is a tricky incentive structure…

Partial to Heaven

The final poll results were in
100%
Preferred heaven
If possible
And 100%
Did not
Want to go
Today
Breaking awe
Records

Life is good. Look for it…

It’s a Wonder Full Whirled

It’s a wonder full whirled
If eye can find myself
Centered
In the I of the storm
A mist
Having a cow
Flying buy
Wondering if
Can it be
A hit
The broad side of a barn
Going bye
And my hows
Up in the err
A big too doo
Doo you no
Wee are knot
In can’s ass any more
Throne this weigh
That!
And in the end
Weather we like it or knot
Life is choice
When you get wind of it
Grounded
Or fly

Sometimes be leaving is seeing…

The Plague on Both of Your Hows Is

A. hows divided
Can ought stand
B. leave
And C.

I am concerned about real obscenities afar amor than mere words…

F ‘n A

Drop an A-bomb
And you are both
The pinnacle and foundation of civilization
Drop an F-bomb
And you are a moral threat
As if
Only won
Might
Be true
Perhaps we should
Just
Drop it
All together
Now

Maiden America, In a Sense Lost

Her job was attired won
Cloaked in innocence
Vested buy lyin’s of national pride
She made sheep’s clothes
For exporting wolves
Trading worlds and souls
Wear global metes loco
As winners make losers
Having
A lock on morality
Taking care of their own
Property
In exchange
For flesh and blood
And what have you
A
Well
Paying job
With blessed insurance
Suited to a life
Fully retired
Having
Spent a life
Wading fore death
As sow many remains
From far off
Lands
Maiden America
As sew much chaff

When beings value possessions more than other beings, I call that “being possessed.”

Dis Possessed

What possessed you
Too care
For paupers
Subjected to feudal enterprises
Sow indebted to us
As Jōb creators
Soully dependent
On that invisible hand
Of the free
Mark it
As bought ensouled
And profits be dammed
As that grave property own us
Given to spawn
Wile others
Are ground
Into what thou dust
And still
Wee holed fast
Too indignant attitudes
Untoward the indigent
As naught he
Awe the wile preaching
To acquire
Personal response ability
Mirrorly something for others
Living on a song
What a fiend
We have
In Jesus
Nothing to get
Cross over
Won cant deny it
At lease three times bettor
To hang
Onto hour bounty
Peaces of silver
What ever possesses

I have never been much of a fan of: “Nothing off the table.” This strikes me as boundary-less sociopathy.  Similarly, I am not much of a fan  of: “Politics is the art of compromise.” This strikes me as more often about being compromised than compromising…

Nothing Off The Table

The art of the compromised
Is taking
Nothing off
The table
Awe is negotiable
Human rights
And the whored of wrongs
Buy enlarge
Thankful
Fore daily bred
And barren fruit
Soully sorry
For any crumbs
By miss take
Floored
By the error you breathe

I’ve have always found the juxtaposition of folks without any housing with folks who have second homes, especially when those second homes are far bigger and more expensive than most people with housing. This chasm may be a particularly telling indicator of the level of collective empathy of our nation. This poem is a utopian, anti-Orwellian fantasy where “second home encampments” are raided rather than “homeless encampments.”

2084: Novel, Utopia

Up and down
Awe the shoreline
At the second home encampments
The police raided
The “More-hommes”
Those citizens who couldn’t get enough
Sucking up
Resources beyond their need
Masses of second homes
In prime locations
Was emblematic
Of such illegal encampments
Their collective licentiousness
Was matched soully
Buy their generous excuses
Of “God permits”