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she rode

her horse

and in due

course

in the city

where

shit ain t so

pretty

like the red

masion

old flokes

home you all

trim

prim

reshaped

old off and out

new

more room

for growth

and appreciations

for it all

 

from a homily by fr langes silva

going away

going today

not soon enough

or so it may seem

the dream

of peace

is for the least

a wild crazy

fantasy!

words

and wants

can taunt

not to behave

is to not save

face

the grace

of being

is removed

by constant exposure

but my mien

is mine

mentor

not meant

to be

to me

at the time

but it has lasted

all my life

bared

discovered

by her force

of her english course

in middle school

where

Ed McDonald

played her fool

i thought

man she s whacked

crazy

afflicted

bitten by death

and yet

she liked

me prose

and i thumbed

my nose

at Dicky Reese

and to you now dear

reader

is either both or neither

ya boon or bane

have it your way

baby

bang past

gang

gong

done time

on the run

inside

the hell

of the other

side of a bed

fire between the sheets

shit on the moon

lunar eclipse

solar power

escape

elude

avoid

the same

shit storm

next time

to dust

we must

as being mortal

the pain

mental and of the body

models of clay

from the potter s wheel

we feel the fear

of seeing them wind down

each day and as time goes

by faster

as we age

sage sometimes

weak

and pray

lord not me that

way

surely my cross

will suffice???

one year

from tears

to fears

she died

with little to nothing

and has gone to her reward

the chains

of the earth

do not bind ascensions

or needed purgations

she rocked

the area

with a multi

faceted presence

and is now

missed as well

master is reality

creator of all the universe

the literal very every living being

finite to timeless sources

the course of His will

is truly unknown

and a divine mystery

fire water

quakes shakes

and thunder and lightinings

are mere manifestations

of His

real presence

in the whispers

of the silent tacit winds

 

 

from a homily by fr eric richstag

shall i compare

thee

to the noise

the void

oh gosh

gee

heck

hell

the man s too

weird~!!!

wired for sound

egad!