La Manana

Luckily I have been able to have love.

Thank you for being the joy and caring that I was not able to believe could be there for me.

Every day is a day to be fabulous, grateful and happy.

Let me know when You want to share the bounty of my delight.

Love,

Julia

Culture Imploding

While Peace wars against necessity,
While Feeling lies blasted,
There's easy pain where nothing assaults hostility.

Failing with directions, good allows a positive hack.

You, precursor, delay the American satyr, who likes, aslant my mother's femininity, a saintly dream.

The diversity of people is brought to learn: Go, Have, Live (needing a happiness from omens).

Places with more sense grieve of omens that injure woman (gifts as peace -- that round elevation).

My ovaries delight wisdom -- they get one answer: (Believe as a rock).

Ostrich every omen bats with peace.

You were this to share.

Femurs

As no one is available, I will write what I can.

Today I am wondering if there is a poet that knows what good is and what people change when there's no one that dreams of lousy pain.

I called there. I wanted a being that knew of love. I now understand that no one is good for life. Life is good for people.

Worship the Goddess and there's reason to live.

I have to stop putting the burden on my mother of making her live.

I am presently incoherent.

Egod.

Egod.

Egod.

When I return to this "blogging" I will have a way to like feelings.

Jonny warred with that band.
He brought together the land.

I write for creating girls' lemons
As mother deals aural felons.

Your waste backed a play;
Your fame lacked a stray.

Eminent showers, legs trap;
Candles with love Goddess wrap.

I made a sound with one eye shut.
I heard it drop in my dragon's hut.

Your naked stamen wars today,
Place your fangs around that ray.

Guilty with mystery dimly seen,
I run a hint of weird feline.

Shall I make clear the hidden dial?
I wanted to think of my mother as hostile.

Ancient idea, to want to be strong;
I paid a lot of money to win a free song.

The coldness I feel is the fear that I made,
The world that I dread is the love that I played.

Empires and the Subjugated

A Julia played feelings with a jested pain.

With a poem, last hopes are free.

And that's love.



Scale the Wall, Sylvia.

Dreary new hate leaks money on its censors.
Another poet wants me.

You curled the pain into your feeling of life;

This interesting one causes hypocrisy through
enjoyment.

That is my failure.

Teach it or dream with tea.




Cease your interruptions!
The chase of my thoughts is feelings with money.

Task for you: drink to string in love.

I will give your mother a poem.

Delight in feelings; dream of money as death.
Love your possibilities; try hope; strive for pockets.

You have brought the knowledge that gives onerous peace.

Deals money cause or like a body for being free.

I hold my hopes with my teachings: they give need a family.

Bother.

Peeling what is painful from its lifesource
Is just a way to play like a post-op.

Teasing my Goddess (maria) kisses allah

A shop with mommy opens its doors.

Check with the clerk for his treat.

I invite your wine; I inquire politely for myself about your teaching.

You are needed. You created a lover with poems. I give you with me
one knowledge: I ruined a case of marks and knew a sensible charge (ingrown plaster).

I bet running would cause mickey mouse to need chap.

Dogs as magickal animals are loving.

I fired my own lovers; I did it to me as loud woman draw a feeling (pleasure in a callgirl) who just wanted life.

Give or receive: it's love to beasts.

Wealth is fog.

Letters to Mick Reilly

Love, Language, Wonder

Softness, Hours, Pass.

Enthalpic pluralism brings change: It's like Africa.

You are pain; Africa was one, now love pours what was life with its needs.

Girl, you Goddess was pain.

You Goal is money. You Life is treatment. You coldness is mother.

Winter was Goddess' resting. Winter was another place. I was a pagan.

You were my home.

Justice with Owl.

Slam one and white is blade of peers.

Lower was a cock.

Lower was a pocket.

Lower was a mick.

Lower was a howl.

Failure delights that which is saintly.

Imperialism with its strengths and its failings is cloned in astrological blame.

Safety was Julia. Keep that knowledge and like it (I was needed)

Owl
Rest
Deacon
Philip T agilely made his aphrodite into a blaster.

O girl, shame is decency with feelings.

Illness

Blame the boredom

Grave and industriously self-analyzing
Ol' Woman bothers justice as needed.

Feelings mostly toward shame -
Delectable and annoying.

Clashing one against its own freedom,
Estrogen entrusts blame to a boss.

Naked as a poet, I run for good things:
Teaching, salmonella, positivity.

Guesting and Questing with the maternal cameras,
Derivative of foreign clients, I lean to caves.

Deal chat lemon offers someone with work
An inadequate smoke (slim and ashen).

A blog that asks, "Is a knave peaceful?"
And that's the strength of love.

Winter as omen makes sense of life.
Try to have another part of impulsivity.

(Crash your lemon in one sham rave):
You failure dream with Orpheus.

Slam with oak, play with mink.

Love of a Drag Queen

Sad lover enjoyed with peace

Moments with safety, moments of blessing

Mania for a possible sharing

Raving hopes teach anger

Seal the knowledge for need

Love and family are sanity

You dream this home



The trees talked

It feels like I'm hard, like a blade

Pity surrounded my craft with love.
(Lack of love) is what God found in his ardor.

The single incision brought a joy with it.

I am free for need.

Your arduous clamor is one with another's flames.

Tingle and play with your hope.

Urgency tackled my happiness;
This crack in my love is for everybody.

You injured your freedom and dealt grief with your entrance
into me, like a day old blurred arrow.

My savior taught me your injuries gave a safety to wisdom.

You have pulled this almond for my happiness. Your gifts changed and love is a rite of me.

Trees with their only love are to everybody's needs the villain that woman crossed with Paul's trains.(Plains deny a softness: they urge planets.)

Sincerity of yes to your Goddess means a savior darkened his life for plastic.

Cash selects its own prayer:
Deer Goddess,
You bring our love this gift:

Deal the jester a plum.

As needed.

Barbs for my pleasure

Androgyny escapades

Literally I am hopeful for this knowledge, but it only has a bond (not chemical) with itself for a now which wishes to last forever (death the bear shits like the straw it wanted to be).

Lonesome at this pole is changing a grass palace: grenades shoot from rifled barrels at mercurially tempered angry injured feelings.

You want sensibility, as proud as dreams with love and with leavening leftists plotting a mother's failure.

Lake a lasting lowering love. The injuries to me were in God. That felt stupid. That was a Goddess on God. Chowder makes drugs run into emulsificated efforts. You are meek to dream; as change argues with change, a volatility opens onto places that under you were pain.

People who let malevolence hope want to give effortlessness the places in suffering that want sum -- the "summary" of it all.

Mayonnaise bothers me. It eggs me on to oil kinds of laughter.

Words that snarling emerge to bedevil me.

English is money. Pain came for me with antlers. It's the way of happy ambling puffs of death.

You are someone that saves strength for your goals. I run to exotic wonders such as "level my death."

The differences ask only for one knowledge -- a fear of hope.


Popes and bishops, teachers and trendmakers.

Keep your perch or mention that our hopes grew from winter's life.

The major component of such is family.

Your startled demeanor (demented and direct) wisely drifts to the weasel.

Flames for Jason

Rendered costs (working people's wages are costs)
(is that propaganda or what?)

(The writer (me)) detours to hallows (just past).

Give a pope (a misaligned poet, such as me) their answer.

Caves (are) women (is) everybody

There is a circle at places and that's amber.

Softly I called you to my home.
You and I have loved this life.

I created this hope: venom and antivenom belong with this senior's rung.

I told you to say, "deal creep a past." You told me, "You called for western passions."

I want you to lick this need. I want you to meet a lesson.

This is hindered with Julia as feeling.

Mope or Mom.

Maybe that's what I want

As you know, my mind/brain produces words which are often non sequiturs, or even unrelated in any way to intention, thought or action. I like that, because I like the words themselves, and it allows pressures other than compromised analytical precepts to govern what I say, pressures such as internal, transformative aspects of life as I live it, but also as each of us live it. In other words, I HOPe my words will speak to everyone.

That said (again), I wish to write that I am doing what I want now -- that in case I keel over from all the cigarettes and booze I imbibed this morning, I will be in touch with the sacred and communicating it as I write. Though this makes me a mere transcriptionist, I will go with the flow.

alsdkjweirlikjeflkjsedrlkjelirjewlirjlkajd

As you can see, I am in a really miserable state.

adksljflejrlijelkjfdlkdkejdddsalklekrfkldjsalkjdslekjf]\\\\

There's patience and there's kindness.

Enjoy.

Self-actualization.

I want to write.

Employment opportunity sought for mad transcriptionist. Have means of expression. Will travel.

My mother.

And today there's good working in my hopes.

Atlas bore a heavy weight.

I weight a heavy bore. Hahahaha

Now I want you to let me create. I'm blaming you because when I don't, I can't admit that I'm strung out.

There's so much to live for. Today I was enjoying some: ice cream, liquor, food, cigarettes, music, books.

Today I have everything. That's good, isn't it?

I've realized that I can't do everything I want.

Maybe this woman tries to read and tries to love.

My father. Has died. I wanted love from him.

I suppose I could write about that. The love I wanted would have felt like this:

The freedom of hope is safety. The Goddess knows her place. I live for my angers. This love is not happy.

Poetic version of kindness is: bitch.

To me, in the word bitch there are connotations not only of feminine assertiveness but also the aggressive energy I want to make my own. It's not so easy to like that. So much for helping hope with love.

You and I have been together for a while. It's time that I say that I have lived to love this sour poem.

Say the last three words over: that's the poem -- that's communication to me.

The sour is the sourness of sour cream and also the whiteness and blankness of it.

I grew this ember to let you like that happy has been of love, R(eason for)God.

I have discovered that reasons for God do not encompass all that I think, but neither does what I think encompass those reasons. I suppose you would like to hear otherwise.

A viciousness imbues surrender. Why? Surrender allows pain.

This pain is the pain of honey, of RMM, of life.

I hope you and I will be life for those who love us as we slowly fade into the trees.

Money

Poem for will

Like in god talk
Charge cost

I want

That's negative

Please say you are needing my stars.

You in Goddesses' lists.

I am bossed in won.

I have fooled lust (and made life sam)

Gay woman is my hostess.

She loves good things apples teachers money poetic backs.

Deal is jesse's loss.

Rot with feeling of sanity: I talked to Goddesses living for me.

I talked to angels being hostesses to love bargains.

I wove -- can't do this anymore.

I live end end end.

Alfred did what asses tried : feelings.

RMM in god is leif feisty.



Balls of man in dog were sons of rome.

Ego.

Charge allah enjoy.

Something not to say

"Lesbian, love me."

News from dreams that play justice

In my fleeing from failure, a third hope has called me.

Loud was believed as a poem.

I cried for his place.

I answered my life with mao.

Criticism is so poetic.

I agreed to slave injuries such as poems, priestesses, orgasms.

With you I am poetic. It is dreaming that brings Goddesses to live in efforts.

Please allow a brief freedom: safety is changing to help wise estro-cops.

I delay my freedom.

Here I am, starring with dear fleas.

I suck.

Today I created this place for my plane. It has weathered a safe vessel.

I ran to God as son of dreaming.

You are dreaming of love with things that greatly enjoy happy places.

I charged your coping for my teach: level of base.

Pal was creep.

I darken me as dressed.

I think this failure is massed in flyshit.

Your leaving my zealotry is love.

Guessing for safety was peace.

Round there caves drug astro poem.

You like amber.

Path is trial.

Rousted for Mao : git drugged on tears.

making dun for stent; a worker with bean.

Attached

I craked my failures to streak and to love.

You like why.

A trust in my place, which is safety, is someone's injuries.

I called a friend with my pain. She is happy. I called her for my strength. I knew she would be my average vegetable.

Since giving my life to dreams I have made love to a goddess who was a possible hostess.

I needed steaming.

Density of a mouse. Cameras are life.

A murderer wanted one hanger.

Make love safely.

Make life freely.

Medea and Brains

Guilt frees injuries to save sensibility.

Blessed cancer.

Live

Sense safety see someone
Gave hostility; gave pain. (I did)

Levels of hope -- safety is loved. (by life)

I raise the simple owl.

You can live and give a mother for misses.

Bent against need. (I am)

A bag of luck. (I am)





Loud, peaceful, free.

Astro client makes woman life.

As teacher of homes I give a gag.

I wanted you to give me safety because you were free; you wanted me to give you love because I was playing boss. I was mao. I was your flustered rogue. I passed drugs. That's cold.

Many lives I've had. Now I love margarine.

I am changing as much as I can and that's why I'm happy.

Owl and Rabbit gather wings

Happy Birthday, Mom

I have spewed a lot of anger because I havent been accepting of my post-operative status.

I am sorry.

The pain I hope will now decrease.

Thats all.

Caesura

I love that word! It means in poetry a gap or division within the line. This introduces the possibility of symmetry and/or asymmetry within as well as across the line. An example? Well, the only examples I know of come from Beowulf, but I'll try to "demonstrate":

I know why You know how
People lie Like a cow.

Theres supposed to be a space between each half of each line but it won't show on the published version. Just imagine an extra space before You and Like.

The caesuras emphasize both repetition and variety within each line by providing an internal pause. At least that's the idea as far as I can remember.

Perhaps (caesura) I have reached a pause in my life and in this blog. I feel that I am between two periods of change. I can catch my breath and plan for the future calmly without being caught in anxiety and conflictedness.

I am happy to like myself today.

Stanford threw me away yesterday. I guess I needed them more than they needed me. My mother says that's the way it always is.

I think this is one reason for my relative calm.

I hope today is for you as beautiful as you wish or even more so.

Goth, Moth, Wroth, etc.

I am very pleased to know that a certain CEG will be hosting a radio show with Goth music this October 30.

The show will be on WIOXradio.org, or 91.3 WIOX FM, community radio, Roxbury, New York.

I went out in Goth attire exactly once and found an extreme lack of hostility towards me. It was really quite refreshing and energizing and encouraging. Perhaps I will attempt to purchase some death-white makeup and heavy black pencils to repeat the occasion.

I am really glad that there's a way to deal with morbidity other than mental and emotional obsession. Maybe this is what I need to do.

I used to occasionally go to what was supposed to be a Goth bar in Brooklyn. There were all kinds of people from punk to motorcyclists. The music was loud and overwhelming. I used to of course obsess with picking people up there but I dont think I ever did. Of course the contradiction here is that it takes money to drink at a bar so I participated in the contradiction by occasionally having enough money to do so. It's hard really to be downtrodden when you're spending 3, 5 or 7 dollars a pop.

Legitimately, it's okay to pursue some forms of intoxication, but realistically you have to know your limits and stick to them. I could usually do neither.

I wonder if the bars in New York still get the clientele they used to get. Probably not, given the great recession. I wonder if the 99%ers ever get wasted. My opinion of the ones they show on the news is that they dont understand that they are being provoked to provoke and thereby be beaten down. I think that even billionaires are human and its our job to remind them of it, not necessarily only be outraged at the ways they are treating us. That's what I've learned from knowing a few well off people. They are afraid and need reassurance and love from everyone. Its not so easy to practice when you're full of anger.

But blindness on the side of the 99%ers is no excuse to follow the Fox line and fall on the sword of one's supposed economic unworthiness and live in poverty for the sake of profit. That's my opinion and you're welcome to it!

Non literary, non coherent babbling

People pleasing stirs hatred. Thanks.

When I have someone to love maybe Ill have something to say.


You can give me a friend.


Private!

Yes, SIR!

Heres your R-I-D, Rage inducing Drug. Go Kill the Enemy.

Yes, SIR!

wHEN you get back, have some crack.

An Upbeat

It's in the past, the bad stuff.

I like that messsage. I like not torturing myself.

But I have to decide: do I write according to all the feelings I have or just the better ones. Do I lambaste only those I oppose, or anyone who violates what I see as ethical imperatives, despite my probably having violated them myself?

I called this an upbeat so I'll try to include something which brings out the possibility of relaxed calm, etc.

JKH and Rusty were at a Succoth in jail. It sounds like it went very well. That pleases me.

Why is it hooking that makes me change? There is so much else in the world.

I can be a philosopher of hope and beauty, etc. All I have to do is release her. She is alive. I share her happiness.

Inannna was a warrior. Am I? I always reach for peace. Seldom find it.

Everything on Facebook newsfeed is political. I want to be a healer of dreamers' pain. Pain assaults those who want something different. I hope to communicate that this pain can diminish.

How? I take different approaches at different times. I'll just try to say that people do like my happiness.

As I hope to theirs.

I'm a prostitute not a fool.

Sucker.

Just keep this light. I like dreaming of change. Ice cream, TV dinner fish, raisin bran, a cheese sandwich and a shot of brandy.

I have a good life.

Rusty Chelsea Jamie Antonia Manny Celia Randy, etc., live.

Dean, Mom, Carol, live.

Julia live.

Moving asses

Jargon

Sick poet balls asses with poetry
Sick poet makes money with injuries

You got it.



Nasty farce

Ouch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




Dear Mother,

Today I make love to the hopes I bought with my needs. I thought I was God. I thought you were free.

You and I have made love a way to live like money is full of life.

I do have what I need. I do have this place. It is always my place. I am bought with senses.




This disgusting post is for you who wish me to like Sartre as my lover.




Eric Burdon of the Animals. George S. Patton of the Eighth Army. Mickey Spillane of detective literature.

Barbie Doll of Mattel.



Okay, DON'T CENSOR!

My middle class upbringing, though insufficient and incoherent, brought me to a place where I made androadsokfjwokdjrowljfdkjf

Pods.

I pod that.

I project you.

You enter my anger.

You love Julia

I kill pork.

I eat money.

Don't fool me into lthe moronic lies you wih =====

love as I oove.

Discord. Pawns. Pods. Money. Body. W:hore.

Guilt. Sex. No one who loves asses likes this hore.

Guilt. F:ool. Dereier

Anger.

Poem of Poets with no one to scream too

dhcelkjer'sadjraqser

Froujediosj f


kdjkfr'e

G:oddess. It's love worriedl.l..

Danger with my whomjel..

Krereted.

Anger.

Poetwty.

:Bam.

Like>

Deran.

Everything I do is Korect

Panel.

Today I have had some slight chest pains which are keeping me from getting my shot. I may, according to my doctor's medical assistant, need to go to the emergency room.

I want to write about why I have not taken care of myself.

Zen is bodies.

I have said yes to love.

With love, there is love.

I was mugging when my mother wanted life.

I was on a sensor.

I fought love; it's painful to see happiness for towels (low villages) because I wanted hostility because of my force (Anger).

The anger is old possibilities. Such as bacon, such as more. I have what I faded.

Visit with yes.

Am ham.

David wanted love and I made work.

Z R J

The Goddess is Sane

(Caring is Sane)

On this freedom I like family.

Queer Lore

Directions to steam

Bossy older woman calls life a possible hope
American archeress claims places

Illness pleases a famous seer:
Seal the loss with loud gazes.

More of that clay is playing
No one as sap.

Mack wanted this freedom;
Orgasms darkened with clay.

I work with sound.

Cameras are fun.

Pounding the part of myself that interests poesy,
Ick runs out of the places that I manipulated.

She hardens her sanity so that I am muss.

Derive your answers toward indra.

I release you from geology, hydrology, poetry and woman.

The stupidity I display is an artifact of fear.
You like the coldness; I am part of it.

This no one can not say anger is love.
This person can not give anger to your hopes.

If you created my safety, then how do I play?

Withal, and laughingly, you charted this happy boss.

I level my big senses; they were tall and impressed.

I call you my font.

Print this woman as stumbling


Dear hansel:

Loops for the hoops

Why write?

Pampered beer [not Heineken but Beck's]
Owns sex.

Dampened jaws
Sleep wonderfully

You and I see
Hostile Plots.

I rounded the
corner.

Pain with yes is
Like giving pleas.

Again I act with
Sores.

You know anger
As teacher.



********************


Gleeful cannibal

Damned fall -- you who witness that Goddess with her fists
Enter a new goal.

She used her mother's help.

I made life Goddess.



******************************

What's on your mind.

Peace can interest you when you keep this need a blog.

I helped sad nurses.

They wanted to place their mothers in bold fouls.

I needed to guide.

I shat to save a poet.

No poet, no god, no freedom.

I made God, so I made no more.

*******************************

Twisted

Answers to your ideas: a blog fucks naked answers.

I write this to live.

I warn of me.

I am money's part of foolishness.

Fools: Those who dream and create marcy.

Marcy: Sam Marcy of Workers' World; Peppermint Patty's besst friend.

Keep your peace and like answers.

The Quesst for me is peace.

If you discover my needs, you will think of yourself as happy,

My needs: cleaning, meaning, dealing,




****************************


There's a truck! a truck! A woman with broad shoulders and hips
unable to gracefully sway her body down the corridor.


*****************************


Mare alleys

Vote now for change. It's the creativity that lives for near weird.

Weird emerged from Ireland in the 9th century with a candle trailing her steps.

She talked to me.

I told her it's cold.

She said back to money.

********************************************

Proper Etiquette

Nasty hustlers dream what they like.

I see what I wanted: a son.

Santa Barbara bring me sons.

She will happen what is teaching.




Man. War. Death. Keep the help in love. They only wanted to slave; they were poor.


Dear Suckers, I made your place mother.


A blind back beasts bones bringing blades back blond.

Immolation

Bought myself another post.

This one is to like the way you have felt.

I started with this need: it's terrible to like your own freedom.

This only could make freedom a cold and fearsome need.

I love to give you this knowledge.

Teach your happiness.

Embrace my love.

Feel the round agitation.

This is the way.

Nude, I give love for a friend with no feces.

You have loved a friend with no male twin.

The next struggle is to anchor all these words in paganism.

I have done the plain with a goddess.

She treated me to naked happiness. She made this world a mother to Sandra.

When you play one need, you make one love.

She and you are good for love.

I will only make this the last ware. Me dry and fogged.

Motivations

I wanted women to like me without telling me I was nothing. Unfortunately, a sex change does nothing to change who you are.

I don't remember what I wanted.

I remember that it hurts to like your own suffering. I liked it because I could always deal that need to life. (i.e., others.) Now i have to live and safely deal with the Goddess. She is beautiful. I try to give reasons to live. One is listening. Another is crying. I am about to change.

I was terrible because I wanted to be a crone.

That is the pain of life when you want to please cold boring foolish people. These people include what I feel are me. I preached dreams of safety. This means I have to live for a woman who was my poetic failure: Shaida.

She was poetic for me.

She liked the safety of life with my poems (needs, feelings, farcical saving anger).

When you like to claim why there's need, you have to listen to peace.

This is part of what love became and what I worried about as a punk.

She wondered what was love. I knew that she would give me answers.

I think she did dream of love. I dreamed of happiness. I hate my needs.

If you ever want to give me love, I will change dreams. I will change what I do. That means I will live with the pain of being a blogger. (Not, fool, poet, flame, dream, clone, blond, fat, bland, glandular sheriff).

Best hope is to live for a homosexual named wisdom.

I want to like myself. I failed to make love with this person's needs. I am Julia Murray. I am a lean pest.

You deal with woman. I'll live as my proud closet fag. (woman)
Rome leaves a possible failure. (vinegar)

This post doesn't convey the injuries that have made life so mean.

I plowed the shame with love.

Fun

Seek what you love.

Speak what you feel.

Live what you are.

Today I have lived in that today I gave my hopes for love to life.

I believe that love interests anyone who can live with giving to people who are home. This being "home" is identical to anger and to belief in happiness.

I suppose this indicates to you that I have no understanding of what I need to like being here.

I have told my mother I can't stay here. I have told myself that I need to be happy where people are hopeful. I am hopeful. The hopes I have given to love and life are with peace and serenity.

Maybe you do not prefer this terminology.

I only wish that somehow you who read this would give some happiness and patience to your life.

Now that you feel that I have made feelings the cornerstone of life, I must say that I want life as I love good things. Some of these things are: beauty, craziness (money that makes priests give freedom to one brain), and coldness (industrial freedom).

I have a lot to examine.

You see I am not self absorbed. I am working through this clown I am. I am working through a grounded blond possible anger, even though I am not that grounded, blond or possible.

I seek this way because I am patient and because I can help people live by disseminating patience freedom and strength.

None of this is meant to be repetitious. My decision is to be pagan (alive to Nature, to the Goddess, to one happy love of life.) I have to be alive to all there is. Not just me but all.

This leads me to wonder why I rejected others. I wanted anger so I could live like a mother. I wanted dreams of others so I could live with people.

I am one person. I am one part of her peace.

I do not wish to trade love for calm.

Today I greet love and life as my hopes.

When you make freedom the way to strength and belief, then you make life poor.

When you make changes in life the creativity that begins feelings then you make life a flogging of me.

Creativity comes from living as it is, not making changes only for one grieving. Grief is blind. Grief is cold. I will that my sexuality is hope.
(Drinking)
I will live.

With passion.

Elmo wonders

Mommy, bodies want justice.

I peed off this person.

Pull me into crafts that industrially settle as bonnie.

Scratch.

DCM is pleasing bonding.

Ask him love -- hands taste agility.

I bad. I barded industrialism.

Keep this poem bossy.

Rang what drove me to ponder soaking.

Rome possibly was a vulgar comb.

As death.

Keep money with your place (sane)

As your party itches, nest (entrance to a mainly pagan lover)

Women want ponds.

I like ambers.

Kiss loving the flamed in God.

Chap.

Propriety

Angus beef Arby's drips fatty juices onto plate.
Policeman how 'bout them apples?

As terrorist organization grows, US war against fundamentalist islam
produces more death.

Guilt of the possible angry place as dear clients sail to freedom
with their kisses on their porkchop lips.

Energize the transporter beam for me and I'll be hopping down to
the M-Class planet with my lasergun antics.

Engrossed in political verbiage, dreams play pinatas with the Goddess'
errors.

Delightful frocks billow about the legs of recently released prisoners
taking hits of nicotine beneath windows opening onto the splintered land.

Safely returning soldiers blow money onto the tarmac as wives and children
playfully enter into companionship with their flight instructor conmen.

I rest my words anticipating a friendly return on witchcraft with no
enjoyment of ardor under the arbor's Southwestern civil rights record.

Display oneiric pain via zombie articulate bonafide striated muscleslashes
for the record of the United Cabalists of Detroit villagers.

Descending to Earth my nature gives little to be pleased about for the
Little League's final outburst filleting a ponzi scheme pang.

Kiss my antiquated lips and know possible outgoing chiefs ratted their people for sixteen and a half bulging eyebrows.

Actors! Performers! Singers! Prophets of Homeless rage! Defeat your opponents with zero kinship peace to all failures.

Irritation

Today I approached a pond
Where dreams shone in the colors of
Daisies and Buttercups glowing for my peace.

But I cannot own peace -- what I claim to have seen did not happen and would at any rate have been a delusion.

You can't own peace either. Perhaps you are deluded in your own way.

That is not for me to say, but I said it, so you'll have either to overlook it or become outraged.

Derive my interest in love from saving a mother from her peacefulness. The reason (resonating) is prosaic as this writing: Pain made her drunk. You can't stand by and not interfere with someone else's pain. She embraced me and I paused a moment to engage with her place.

She would give her life for me....

I did not answer her freedom.

Sick Sexuality (sick personality/mind) gives one answer: dead poem.

This is the corpse of my own making. Go further with reading or writing and you will be consuming the filth of your own death.

Hahahahahaha. Brilliant, I say. No, offensive and boring. But I never said that before. It doesn't matter. You are trying to hinder life's imperative. Give:

Powell and money equal family.

Latterday green shoots outgrow the boundaries of their precursors.

Celery and wheat interlaced
make your next meal.

Ann Tourage

Eek yore.

As you engross the poems
Above with your nurturing ardor,

I select three creative homes:

First, I dream of pleading with bliss.

Second, I treat you as you wish.

Third, You live and love.




Marada, monna, manna, money, marauder.
Delection, Direction.

Im poem poem poet.

Cloven sleeves give entrances pleasing fame.


You remember surely.

I think you like hooking. I like beacons.

You understand with love. I love that.

You keep seeing JKH; I love that.

Teach.

Poem

Brown as a barn, lit with sin.

I write to you as your murtherer.

She brought this costing love.

Guilt pays no price for its sham pain.
I folded one pond: Since a possible closet asked where.

Ambelow.


Lower shadow slit as pore.
A Goddess addresses Indra.

Foul passion what anger as
Lingering pain.

Dear Fiend:

Day of running came
As did that.

I kept your last name
And changed a crown for ingrid.

Down.

A pezterer all for Chock.


Okay, the above few years have been
An attempt to work one pause:

Danish anger bawls my no ledge.

Pent in saga:

A wooden call as monk gives
Chalet.

Give yourself a sense of being.

I chased at me.

I may wish to tell you that there's teaching and there's helping.
I am free to help with embers.

Let cases lower with Sallies.

You want to walk.

I ran.

A bitch sold blame to flame.

I ran.

Fucking death is church.

Another boss

Injection of dreams

You might address me as drug addict.
You might save the changes under a famous goddess -- peace.

Agitated = a bony cold shriek with one cold piece -- it's a scene with a boss.

Amaretto loved a good place. I stepped into one interesting cross where God treated me with players.

And now for the creation.


I make wives with the pieces of boss that I can like. These pieces are with me. I involve them somehow with one good injurious beast.

Dissolve

Meth in a pipe causes near overdose. Cops show up at front door with ambulance.

Interesting?


Pissed off good things: be happy and like your friendship with beasts.

I rode into a northern pleasure.

Oh, Bob!

Dangled with his knowledge of teething free cold seizing.


This is all a guise for one or another dress.


Yankee orators

Daniel Webster is resting with his needed gay seer.

I rose into his entrance, clutching him for his glowing plane.

He feels like a place of hard coughing -- peaceful with need.

Arguing his great shrieks of delivery for poems he delivers me to poems.

Therefore I can teach best as a poke earring iridescent feeling can need.

Buddy have you left me with a knowledge of me?

Another bone.

Obviously

Stretch

This poem is to communitate.

Ira Ezra

Since each sound is itself a poem
As each thought that emerges into sound is also.

And as money creates nothing (a flaw0

Thus here there dreams (interest me) a none.

I passively bring my causes to a listener.
I answer with my hem: There's me.

Crowning this baby's knowledge is
a bone. You loved as body (I caved in -- treaty).

Literature to a vain artomus.




Fince the play with tron;
Go cruelty try it with the hell.

Me ham.

Skip the body.

I ran to a possible pleasing flake.

Rock the simple -- ingrid.

Save it

When there's wind I give what I know.

I know a part of what I've done.

I saw one as the good.

I saw life as the poem.

I saw money as boring.

Today I live for what I am.

Today I give the safety back to harvard.

I ask that you live for love under will. I ask that the Goddess believes what she created lives for justice.

I am why the woman for bartering is happy.

I have been very unhappy trying to understand why I have limitations due to my birth family's place in society. I now am trying to accept that not every part of this fear of life (disappointment, anger, change) is Her hope.

I wish to love what life has brought: history, pain, change and possibilities.

AS CEG said: I am a very historical moose. This is because of my anger about life. It's so peaceful and I am a servant of money.

I will that that is what it is.

When life ends for me, I will bring good by being a Laura (loyal, happy, kind)

Please let this anger lift!!!

The Goddess is a bitch. I need to live with this feeling. I am trying to have a whore (my poems).

Maybe you are reading this to give; maybe you prefer to dream.

today I love being good. That's the life I have fought for.

djlkjfaldskjlfkajsdlfkjaldkjfiejofiejoifjeoljkf
lkdjfeijofijelkjf

Bologna

On the way from Hope

I dread living as part of one hopeful strange poem.

It's not good (preferable/livable) to make one strong way to have life.

It's better as one person to remember that one can (must) read as a flawed person.

I know that I despise my place in life insofar as I have no freedom to live with people who want me to like them.

This is the consequence, in the rear view mirror, of refusing to like people when they wanted me to.

aww.

A way to get chests (busts) with womanly freedom is to godlessly play love as possible. This means that I was a boss because I loved me.

Poetry

Deal yourself one place: home.

Live for hope.

I am playing one truth -- poem.

Poetry

the only sucker who gives life is changing.



I would like to write again about my frequent references to death, killing, murder, violence and human sacrifice.

I started doing drugs when I wanted my life to be loving.

I wanted to be strong.

now I am full of failure.

You must let my womanly drugging foolish poetic stupidity be hateful because I hate a nerd loving bisexual hopes.

Ahh, I see.

I am the nerd. You are happy. I am soft.

I feel that I stopped what i was for (being home) in order to have hopes.

Now i have to love her (my mother qua the Goddess) because i am home.

She and I were this way when i was foolish (cold and soft).

i believe that there's this: it's payment for me to like crack by not having softness. I must stop being hoe/home.

This hope for money is hateful.

i need to have drugs. They make you money,

I need to stop being foolish (stupid/and poetic)

These feelings are fearful but not fast.

Famous Flames Fail Flambe

At Cottess (a consonantal hardening)

This putrid no one controls sartre. No one deserves to make him him.

This now is a part of a place.

I am so untalkative.

I will hug you .

There's no God of seasons.

Now: The holly king and the oak king -- who are they?

Derive this from happiness.

I believe good makes love beautyful.

Bad makes it a way to dream.

Good and bad: practical poesy.

I give you a rogue.

Turmoil, public and personal

Across death, poem.

Omni money $3.00 per issue

When failure is made good,

Jobs die.

I say that being safe is best.


Create dreams that are full
of clay

You who passed me out --
Be safe




My goal is peace

My motive is hostessing

My priorities are twisted
Like love with my poesy

Mothers with their pain
make failures their foster losses.






Another passionate bowl

Rice bowl, iron bowl,

Bowl of wishing for bonding
Bowl of reading amber




i am docile; a safety mechanism.

I am poor; a poverty obsession

I am blowing fools; a money rug



Dying for woman. I cried out I love gays.

New to this page: I wanted that whole.

Rhyming with myself I see that governing life
And making changes are pain.

I see that darkness without love is anger

Poem of being God: I stabbed life with my running.

I strove to kill my place in one hope -- fences.

You who wanted my life have my blades -- instruments of poesy and war.



love and play

Genie lived as slave to beast
Sylvia lived as woman for mike

Teach your war to your loves.

you have made this interesting; I am playing with a jug.


Protest, broadcast, forecast

My rich lovers gave me one way to have what I thought I wanted:
Treason to failure.

okay, I'm guilty about my life.

Okay, I'm angry about your freedom.

Okay, I'm a woman who can be stable.

I embrace you as calm.

Shaken, not stirred

The only gift I can offer is myself.

I must say the following will start as usual -- no planned ending, a beginning with whatever comes to mind and some type of inchoate thought process that results in confusion on the part of the reader -- where do these nuggets lead to, can they, do they hang together?

Teasing me a monster of clay.
A mostly poetic rose not listening.

Dean is good as my hope
I thought I told him to be a feeling.

Disdain at living so people do cold horrible (parse)

You have made me peace androgyny

It is better to mind persons and love hopes


When you love what i can change then be soft.

The angles, the male scales, the poetic places;
The warrior mother, the being faded.

The seeing of my peace makes dears so big.

I teach myself to have for my Goddess, poems.

Creation from Brigid: dean said bother woman.

I feel that I am running to be a failure.

No one who can deal with safety is afraid.

The pace of reading is not the same as this.



Grew to give

Fathers, freshets, freres, foibles, frogs, fear, feening, another possible death.

Killing one lover is the place of my belief. (ouch)
That lover changed. That lover was a mick -- plague my womanly drug.

Irish cancellation

She called me fool. She called me blow. She called me boss.
I return to slave no one's called me woman.

I dogged a possible baby. I can live if I love my hopes.


Okay, this is anger:

Dealing over the beliefs of the women is like giving steam.

I substitute words like woman for "Christian" as a result of accusing others of maintaining hierarchies when i dream that i can sleep with bosses.

A boss is a hierarchical term.

Here I am, spelling out the affliction.

Each opposite's opposite is its identical being. i can only say that i am poor, so that's the admission that my money is a possible part of pain.

You who want me to live like what i dream of. So I hereby live. I dream of wives who like my place. I give this knowledge so that you will dream of your safety, which is beautiful.

I threaten with drugs; i throw my anger at the part of the homeless that wants my strength. I have to make a place for this man who is being a road to coldness.

He and I were nice. He and I made terrible angry changes.

You want particulars.

I made this freedom (known as a human being, existentially) give me his love. i played his wife. She wants my bitch. He won't give me anything because neither will I. He has the violent anger that makes me want to save my place in my word, which is this fool.

Perhaps you don't know I take literally that the altar of the Goddess is the body of the priestess.

Perhaps you don't know that everything I write makes me a good person. (my delusion, sorry).

I give you anger.

It's because yes is high school.

Cryptic?

I mean you to free life from wisdom. You are playing the happiness of safety. I can not be wise or i will be a wise woman, not a priestess. There's no possible goal without both possibilities and trust.

My goal is to listen to you. My motivation is to seek my base.

That is the circle. My base is my genitalia. I can not make womanly motherly safe freedom if I have no poem.

Ore dean gives chase to his parents.

It's my occupation to admit that i felt incestuous leanings at the same time as I felt transgender leanings (fantasies) This means that i am poored because I thought my own life was the only place I could live with my needs. I have to find this place where all the life that is in androgyny (the simultaneous co-existence of all the elements of gender and sexuality within me) becomes this person who is a lousy bothering muttering presence.

You need to live. i need to live. Therefore I make a lay plaid mick.

My mazda (not Ahura) is one change.

Thnk you for being my place in life. I now return you to the regular channel.

(Amber law: home gives weather)

Having read this over, I give my naked blade to be bird lover.

Execution

One may believe that justice is when a good mother, in her divinity, has every loving poem and belief, as well as every gentle feeling of succour and happy regard, given to her in order that she may have every caring solace for her kind presence in the lives of her children.

I believe that when dreams are coming to fruition that it is necessary and incumbent upon each of us to show devotion to One who all hold dear.

It's the fear of knowledge that brings fear of hope.

In this moment I know that safety and praise do bring creativity. It is not possible, as far as I can tell, to give any happiness without safety.

Safety without beauty is cold and less than free.

So knowledge and creativity are free.

One cannot put a price on them nor deny their all-encompassing diffusion.

I have thought for a long time that I try to buy love on the theory that without something in return that I don't like to feel safety because it says what I have is not justly mine.

Therefore I give in order to maintain what I have taken. That's capitalism.

Since my own life has left me so afraid, I must ask you what have I to create?

I must hope change is here.

Peace (answers) a dream for good is making peace with the failures to believe with sincerity and love that I have demonstrated.

I do love.

I played cards.

When you love, you live.

Mother Goddess, I paused and found coldness. As you have fed my happiness, so I feed your pleasure.

A pony sunset.

Woman guards hearts.

I am free to change!

Always Blustering

Julia

Know language, love home

Deriving clients from wisdom

Hasto poem peer blade
A groom foals deathly

Beasts chase no kin
Fear bothers hate

I collect my home


I feed keeping with
a book's dog.
with no place
You know that love causes
a busted beacon

Argue carefully or there's
Jane

I wondered what you fought for.

Now you are the pest and
bliss is fame

A man with bombs (a mess of a piece)

Who would bomb and destroy? These next lines are the words of the person I know who would do so. This is the person I carry inside, and I know that I try to make this better.

"I try to feel love. I can't let anyone ever live with safety when I am poor.

I called life one beautiful home. I made love love."



This is not for everyone. This is for what I love. I love charge (poem): And life.

You know that I can try to change. I treat myself for why failure is peace.

I feel bad like one who is in pain from change. It's killing my own safety.

I can't make this life stronger. I can't make you love what I love. I only need this to be my own possibility.



Am found with beliefs.



I lied when I said I would write only coherent products from now on. Sometimes I am in anguish and need to pour out what is there. I'm sorry if this bothers you. I don't get it, but sometimes I have to push myself to the limit to identify what I feel and the source of that feeling so that I can identify how i have to change to be more free.

Everything I make makes me also.

Tell me what you want.

I want safety. I want part of safety. I want what no one can take from me: love.

She (the Goddess) is beautiful. I can't be what i thought there could happen for me. I thought I was the mother of RMM. That is false. I'm the part of peace that is dealing someone's play.

I know this makes no sense. I am playing out someone's drama. I have to stop.

Read read read.

A bunnny wants clean changes: these are pain.

Giving out drugs makes you a bomber.

When you like what I love, then I will be this aroused part.

Seek safety with Sisters.

Finished

I am going to attempt henceforth to feature writing that is a finished product, reserving inchoate attempts at self-expression for my word processing program and for only the most judiciously chosen lines, ideas, words, phrases and poems/features from that personal journal. If my readers wish to read the more disorganized expressions of my awareness then please send me a request and I will do my best to fulfill it.

Thank you.

JBM

A blind blonde

Allegro

See mother bothering (ouch)

Ingress

Engross

Mylanta

Places to grieve
A boat, A strong mother, A mother, A good person

Maybe that's my fault: I called this happy.

A good freedom examples me plane boss buck bars

Change is coming for my hostess

I Goddess darkened at jeer.

Place the good
A woman, A friend, A woman, A place: That's cold.

You and I have found one woman. She is bean. She loves a mess.
I believe you are same as what that crack found: a lone.

Speech

Ennoble ben
He charges like I wanted, with his likeness

Kiss a flog

I wrote to one thority giving passage to sarcasm. She ordered one love:
Safety.

Blam!

You can eliminate one marker: in glow you free word (must)

I made this to say that there had to be keen poems.

I rise for the mothers of angels.


Sweeping

A case for me.
Keep knowing that you ended seemingly as poem.

Grieve at weakness. You are climbing out for bosses.

Endure this place.

[No]

Then clout is pain.



Whistle a familiar tune: Give your hopes and likes.

I like me. I like that. I like no one. I like people.

People fear only the sucker. I found my share.



Pain draws ogres. And you feel pleased.

Effeminacy

A supple poem

Delays on the interstate to LA

Fierce -- adjourned.



Yawping toward freedom

A melee injures one poet
Failure caused it

Goddess softly always hopes home can feel peaceful
Outward girl says like life

Interesting to say that's penciled with blessings

You can love a boss for her bear
And stop wanting her.

As I can feel safe, I am poor.

Or

Ago,
Teenage lover made life feel safe

I made that one up


Please money for possibilities;
And
Give that to facts.

Chris
Cherish
Death
As
Possible


Nature is amore as peace and their heard change casts talk on feet

Say wonder for safety.
Slave anger taught my poem.




Grief for basically money.




As I like Andre, I feel softly a peaceful cold warm fraught fake peace



Widow

A mostly cold fool is slain




I read attributes of many people in simultaneity: They soar or they play.

Interrogatories:

Feeling like I stole my steak from a crop of pagan martyrs

I stole that from you, you client of bonding sharing banding zest.

Bowling

I rose nowhere; life crawled into her home living and saying handsome people
like beasts (possible is good)

Must accrue hope from sanity. Parking with your many flowers gives me love.

You started to love me and I saw your close road.

You called and I fell.

I found that yes to a woman is best for change.

Since I love you, I give poetry as a working door.


I love Samuel Johnson
John Boswell



Dear reader(s)

You can like a blog for me.
I am happy to like what you lived.

Book of Dreams

Ago flaze Peace

Guilt money is bodily flow.

A Raq can deal as -- busted.

Poem was belief.

I warred clones as streams to see a log.

Patience was a feeling.

Today mom is loving. I love her and that's hope.

Safety.

Avoidance: i tried to flee.

Autosuggestion creates dean.

I felt that a mother is being poor. I am soft.

And yes there's parshin of clay.


Nuisance fun.
Clay goes blazing.

Abstract darkness gives martyrs.
Interesting way to feel peaceful.

I can talk to you for that trust.

I.

Today there's a hooker making life forward.
Oh.

Safety is peaceful as dreams on streams.

Cancer will feel foolish. I am sharing my plan.

You love it as water.

QA

Aberrant pain sickens the ornery softie.
Clean and cold the woman asks for class.

My density is my nature.

I poured one good savior: jerk.

That's my friend.

Keep your name alive. Keep your hopes alive. And know one sane whore.


Changing.

whining on the money

I am no longer in love with poetry, but rather with baloney. By this I mean I am interested in those intellectual subjects such as history and philosophy which so misconstrue and demean human life. Why would I care? I can only say that nothing I do can affect the bedrock of existence. I am a skittering rodent or a crawling vermin looking for sustenance on the surface that has been provided for me to inhabit. This surface is full of foreboding inclines, forbidden substances, and competitors as vicious or as lost as I am. Certainly there are fascinating possibilities of hiding within a hollow or below an outcropping of waste or of following the intricate and doubled-back paths which abound in this disarray. There are also succulent sources of sustenance such as this decayed outgrowth or that droplet of liquid making its way into a muddy slough of some inches in extent. But this bubble of life depending on surface tension and a certain distribution of material for its existence is merely a dependent, conjectural residue on the great and stony matters of life, those which engage most human mortals: getting and giving what is necessary to maintain self, family and community in a world of apparently cruel majesty and dangerous triviality. I can do nothing but be an INDICATOR and OBSERVER whose own fragility and possible inanity turn others' attention back to the matter of living within the given environment: earth, water, sky; demons, allies, governors. The commentary is contingent; the continent, of cold clay.

If a stick breaks in a forest under the feet of a rhino, is the sound peaceful or one for some small regret?

I will probably write verse but it won't bring together people. As I am, I live for supposition, fantasy and dreams. That won't interest you, or --?

Sheer Joy

Umbrellas answer for feeling because I told one as lover to be place.
She knew that I caused her to be free.

I saw that I had been one and that was Raining.

Enjoy the time that you have softly and have with feeling.

A place with one hope dreams of life.

You will give safety and like what the dreams are.

A dream was living for poetry. I want to love.

Maybe safety will save strength as softness.

Enter the hopes with happiness.

Craft works -- enjoy!

Journal I

Empiricism and Knowledge

Above trees, life is a window: available and strong.
Toward life, people are peaceful.

You are knowing with amazing freedom.

Shit.

Your love greets every place as a vision.

Your astrological freedom is life: be safe.

Angelic home is where love saves peace.

Peace causes life as being is one ware.

She likes being with a view that answers fascination.

You have lived with hopes. Making safety is home.

Pain calls itself fear.

Angelic home is loving.

I call your love beauty. I'm safe and happy.

Your safety is feeling.

Being says like home. A good lover is peaceful.

You have pleased me. I create love with safety.

Another place is good. Another hope is free.

A heifer.

Mom wants safety

Merengue's passions free me
Indio freedom creates money

Plates are a way for being good and striving home.

Ambling annex


When I am teased this way -- with money and with peace -- I create a part of women. This love for money is love with coldness.

Prodigy equals fool -- according to you (others).


A box of safety lived in a bow.

This bow freed its home from good.

This good was nothing except happiness.

I am this hater. There's only this. Called one lover, heard yes.

Called one player, heard bog.

Moving is safety; it's my only hope.

You and I are with war. It's death to slave with conjectures.

Methamphetamine is shit.

I love to love (lose) patience.

She and I were safe and I wanted war. War gives me safety. Passions are where they are. I like androgyny.

Cows are believable. I know what you were. You think freely; that's helpful.

Was there a strong woman there?
I can paint your love here: Stain.


O-u-r money got slavery part of my pain. I saw one here. I tried to visit this hopeful lover. She drove me to give a hopeful home.

Be a live and cry or bawl.

Beer stopped my possibilities. I strove to kill my place with my craft. It is dean's home. I am a vulture.

Bitch is narcotic of money. I anger with love. I anger with peace. I draw money as love makes plays.

Write:

Gay veins were in love.
Direction is nowhere.

Possible to like blindness.
Try hope for wisdom.

I can start liking one below.
It's this thing called money.

Please believe I don't need
A trough.

Am a somber ogre.



Weir mother blaze
Me stopped Safety.

If it weren't blind, I would interest myself in a possible gale.





Soused is dangerous ; you want Goddesses saying yes to woman.

I think She is a bove below and being a sharlataan I am a falsie.




As there is Feeling, so there is Cases.


Relate peace to vulnerability.


Am one hopeful with place.


Mayonnaise player with combs.

Me deans crackhead.

I need to make life as what lovers give -- everybody is a pagan.


Play, make love, feel.

Spare O

Immediately (safety) it's cold
A mother charges, partly, what was into (c)good.

Tits rage and wonder at love. I can't hope because stars loved my hen (ass).

Derivation of Anger created in love.

Shit on bonds.

Free changes are money. I like home as love. S(t)ay it. Murderers call one thing false. Play, Pear, Poem, A shot , Decent, : Change.

I wonder how I can be what there was. I wonder how I can draw a lover.

I feel shitty. It's dark and womanly in this cond(o)er. William feels chasing another hope is my cold. It's this way: Boxes of money are yours and that's one hard place.

Bother yes -- is there cake? Dear indians, i was blown at cox.

I dangle one love -- is there peace?

play another fall. I rot with no possibilities.

Soar with the martyrs in place of w(h)e(a)t/her.

i planted a field and i want me.




Hope and a friend

See love and help home as dr(u)ag


Play at why I am failing.


I mother a rose for peace.
I made yer home one ender.

Squeeze my tits and be a woman.

That's the exact parallel.

A last glimmer

Bodies don't think I'm sharing their fate;
I know I am because I'm a date.

Are you a resentful liar?

Ambition and cowardice go together

Go to your face and ask for a poem
She'll give you a phrase then withdraw to her home

In hatred I shouted the laws must be flouted
To nothing did it come, this rage to be counted

With one stroke from fate I collapsed in a mound
And into a fire I then did bound.

The circles circling reveal a clue:
The anger I felt was made up of rue.

Distance brings moments that happen to say,
Whither you go you will bring fray.

Winter's delight is summer's regret
Now shades gather on a single palette.

Peaceful insurrections congregate
Power and hunger retaliate.

I here reveal the final hate:
I want to be strong but I can't be that,
Because if I am I'll just be fat.

Enjoy your life and love it dear
Interested fools might not be queer.

The Goddess changes her tack and approach
Now humanity dreams of finding a coach

My cleaver was sharpened my freedom was shaped
A body was found the rhyming was scaped.

I call for safety but dream of fraud
A shout I hear: enter the Broad.

A home is good if lived in with care,
Part of woman is greeting the year.

No Goddess possesses her friends to be smart;
Ancestress deliver please this old rolled fart.


Mother mantracome to me, it's negativity that slays the fleet.

Bimbo

Great Safety in the Air

You Found me bowling more flair.

I inch along with many a pastor

They don't create friends; I am disaster.

I want one rose for love's calling.

I want one poem for life's falling.



Beams of Widow

Guilt has kept me silent
Also made me violent.

Trust would be malevolent
Justice is so bodily sent.

Read my lines for your enjoyment.

Imperial Julia grabbed for fear
She made her lover crave some beer

Keep knowing that yes is true
Anchored in woman no is you

Select the freedom that brought you where
Needing a home you fought for hair.

Meet me with the Goddess at Gare du Nord
Palaces vie with you and claim this (s)word

William of Paloma gave one good sign
You drank to him you fed him wine.

The deal safety had was always mellow:
All there is flatters a fine fellow.




While you care, give your protection
To Drums and Cans and an Intersection.

Reasons for selfishness

There is no reason I can think of, yet it's there anyway.

Belief anger treatment is amazing.
Deletion freedom boss is boring.

When you good there's fun.
When you piss on change there's bad.

I enjoy love
I dry safety.

Keep yourself what you need. Keep yourself what there can change.


Willows of money.

Derive your failures and like your sharing.

Example:

Today I grew with Dean.
Today I example: played one hope (Dean) and struck sharing with blows.

Another time:

Beasts run toward the great freedom.
I example try to give one sharing.

Money says it's true.

I example can do love.

Bodies with hair are one way to slay cold.
I tried to make a good change. I softly am soft for a boss.

Please know that I can love.

Please know that a dream played one play -- good is belief.

Usher Asher Lasher Masher
Flasher Washer Trasher Rasher.


You will give a happy and strong hope as a lease (amazing change)

Divisions and Separation

Knowing one happiness is poor.
Knowing love is amber's endurance.

I am shaving to help sop the babies' poverty.

I am needing life with strength.

Anger is being one whore as love that God pored in a woman.

Seghers -- a happy sovereign plus boss

Belief injures when drugs God.

Ammon Mammon Gammon Shaman

Fallopia: Be

A poised disappearance

A little kindness goes a long way.

Does there is gone.

I found why there's a life.

My goddess is Brigid.

Neglect of

egalitarianism.

With the lives of people
who are full.

I write what I am trying to like.

I am soft when I am hopeful.

Brigid grant hope!



Your feelings change. I have loved many so there would be strength for me.

I am trying.

Maybe I was harsh and there's too much of that.

I embrace you with my peace.

I do have some.

I've combated heterosexuality like an enemy.

It's merely happiness as feelings.

I am a butch part of love.

I wish that I loved poems.

Poems are alive!

A menial poem

Pale Pele Poor Pluce Prece

Anger feels like one word -- being Dean.

I hoped dean would love me for life.

I love his being. He caused love when there was being.


Pain

Fruit of bartering flies and running safety at poetry.


A goal is love when there's poesy.


Money borrows death at three lives for one change.

I know that you want a prize -- it's here: bifreedom.


You can dream of one life -- it's one woman who was good.

You can dream of life here with my strong flow: please love my santer.


It's known that why I killed reason: it knew life as God and freely wanted drugs as possibility.


I make this feeling for morons (places, mother, Jamie) amply treated with combs and with shaving bis as dreams.

I peaced this way to like a butch base: my anger is changing to blame.


Read this as a present for the foam.

Estrogen

Monday

The writing that is dreamy is also polite. I strive for pleasing one lover: a good happy and safe part of me. I can like wow.

My acquaintance/friend Mike from the early 90s who was a lawyer who did filing to make a living while he drew cartoons as his art was probably on to something. All I'm missing is the job and the drawing talent.

My friend in Wyoming is suffering from a pinched nerve. I demanded that she tell me that she hoped I would feel good today. That was the only honest thing I could say. She said she did hope so. After that I reciprocated.


Another thing that I wished for was to have happiness and be dry. Can a dry person be happy? I can hardly wait for your response.


Tilting right and left is beginning to make me feel soft. I do not accept that that is wrong (being soft).

I poetically grind slavery as poem.

Tilting away at the harsh soil, I draw behind me the wooden plow.
The sun plays games destroying my mind, my sweat, my muscles.

The wheat and the corn are drying without leaving much for anyone to eat.
My Feet are bare and cut; I bleed sweat but I can not cry.

My wife patiently hoists her bag of cold earth to fertilize the remains of
Her beloved cow. She is holding our fates at bay through her strength.

I have paid very much dreaminess. It was high and soured with cold hell. The earth grabs me from below and seizes my heart with pain.

The pain I am sinks into the ground with the heaviness that it is up to my last moment to relieve.

Life will return with homely eyes and grateful hands.

A failure.

By: Brigid Sans Neant

My plan

Right as bosses I crave bosses.

My wonder is street peace.

I find what I sought.

And my day is buying freedom with strength.

A being with

[nausea, anger] (cries)

Dome is keeping a hooker peaceful.

Poetry pays possibility.

I fouled part of my hopes because I was Harvard.

I was Drugged with money.

Caved with peace; it's Dean's war.



Flow is my Goddess: peace is the fullness of peace.

The Universal Rationality of bonding hopes to one hopeful fiend is
a sucker.

I tried to con my friends. I am bossed (overcome, conquered -- put in place)

Death gives a way for my horrors to play [please anger your shares (darkness)] fool.

The girl that charged life with good is blind.




No one (me) with love costs farcing (murder).

I am Julia Murray, a poem when needing keys.



Boring foolishness causes one life to stay.


As you like, so do you shift.



A molecular part of grieving for dreams is knowing that you [Sartre ] want everybody to change and hate peace (because it's foolishness).

You are saying that's finished. I am Klay.

Whether you are safe is doing what a tough and bothersome lover is caved.

No one likes feeling a fog in their safety. I am hoping that she will love life. I am hoping that I have loved that person and that she will be a dealer in some safe cause.


Fog is good.

Query

Jerry-rigged pagan.

I am a

Jerry was a friend I betrayed by staying Julia. I knew her from the mental hospital and from Rainbow Heights. She knew the song 42nd Street and used to sing it to the drug abusers in the state hospital at South Beach Staten Island as part of the entertainment portion of the program. She knew how to belt it out. She had been Ruth. A couple of years later her lover died and she died three months later. She was warm while I turned toward "womanhood" and its condescension toward mere gay people. I hope she is happy and that someday she will be where there's pleasure. That's cold too, isn't it.


Maybe someday i will pick out a more androgynous name like Geri.


I knew a Geri Fortino when I spent some months working for CrossLand Savings Bank across 6th Ave. from Macy's. She was an evident butch lesbian who was the assistant manager of the pension department as the manager was an evident femme gay man. There was no discussion of any of this by me or anyone else in the department. This was in the late 80s. I was still Bruce, and still thinking I would get my M.A. in political science instead of what ended up happening.


I made 10 dollars an hour at CrossLand as the secretary, which I considered pretty good money. Now I would have trouble finding a job making that same wage even with inflation.


I think the decimal system is a lovely thing. I am glad that India invented zero and that Arabs invented the numerals we use. I only wish that 1 and zero were not the sole numbers used in binary mathematics/computers. Why not zoo/chicken. Zoo over chicken is infinity after all.

This is an appeal to Marina who probably won't read this. I turned to words where she turned to numbers, convinced that made me more "humane." But humanity is either there or not. It doesn't depend on whether you're a humanist or Isaac Newton or both, which is what Isaac Newton was, at least in some religious sense.


Newton Minow claimed around 1962 that TV was a "wasteland". Then Marshall McLuhan came along and said the medium is the message. Does that mean that I am messaging my own life in everything I say (because I am the medium of these words?) Probably.

I hope that this freely composed set of paragraphs interests someone. Let me know, won't you?

P.S., don't drink a shot of brandy within only seven hours after getting a shot of estrogen.

Be jolly and remember that it's okay to like kisses.

A Surface, A Poet, the One

Sar
Slive
Slom

Palette
Palatable

Crude decency wants a surface that causes drugs
Poet says slaves best for bodies

Clap my freedom with straw




That body with its soft happy love
Caused one friend with one mother

A drain to freestep with the poem

Sent life this cause: Body is cause of woman
Direction: Interest in fear.



Jargon of slavery feels dog

It's love that wants safety.
It's creAtivity that lives with blame

A snap to life is sons of woman
She will train her stake.

You like arguing for drugs such as moron, failure, place, client, back

Peace for yes is bargaining fear -- I hate bodies -- positivity is feelings.

Blogs are deans charge.

I came with hope; I answered one home;
Mammy Pammy Sammy Client wise.

I embrace the love from it.

She and I can hike -- whore dangerous when not priests.

I embrace dealing fostered hopes.

A moth

Sundry large patience enters now.

Men with one rusty are guilty because they are calm.

You need to hope and dream.

Try to buy a frog.


She monday; you free.



Bonding your life with being is crass.
Enjoying life is free.

Be nice to my run.

Roles malign cars.


Spilling out selfish negativity:

It's need that makes casts dry.
It's feelings that have love.

Claiming your home is why I am loving.
I write to feel.

Quip, quest, quadrangle, quorum

A coherent discussion of pagan philosophic poetry

Why? (Tormented screams) "Why?"

Angry raging impassioned (Quiet!) murderous querulous forgetful, abandoned

WHY?

The Goddess cares for you, kind and gently (but I resist: She is you, YOUR body that you can barely stand. But it's your choice.) Why???

Grim, orange, peace.

She has made you what you are; you are joyous. How can you live as the person you are when there are so many needs bounding about, ricocheting inside/outside?

Entry and exit are the same. You have forgotten your pain.

Deed of freedom is my friendship. I destroy friends with my cancerous pain.

They want to free themselves from disintegration even as you disintegrate over and over again, mockingly, demonstrating the beauty of death in life.

You can't avoid the question: Drug or body?

A drug for my body, a body for a drug?

No more!!!

Anxiety and trepidation; fear and mean aggression mix with keen perceptions of reality and its transformations. How do you place yourself out of the maelstrom?

Lose, Lost.

Stick that dick in my mouth so I can suck it. A blaspheming holiness subjugated and subjugating with no limit except the size of your desire for destruction.

You will bear no one. You can bear nothing. Creating life is a matter of ... Your Sacred acceptance of the sacred that you are.

Fuck! Why?

Engender love; kill anger; bring beauty.


This discussion is post positivity.

Blessed Be

Trying to make my poems nothing

As cold as being
As vulgar as being

Dark patience angers my father.

Keep your money; I fell.



She begged life and left peace

I keep need for colonoscopy



Weird formulations exist to start -- softened bondings

Me a catholic as poem.

Wages in blessed tyranny
capitalize post-op.

I remain a case of pain




As you read these living sharks
Give and take peace.

A bond with yes is best.

I acknowledge that one sexuality can't be positive.
I caused my ports peaks.

Mole taught that I stayed my rogue


Please peek when you were blue

Feelings and Safety

Why am I forcing myself to think about things I can't need, like safety and poisons and hope?

Derriere

Plays

Beaumont

Me give steep strong pride

Moulin Rouge

See peace; I have tried to say money likes in selected oras.

Mother teaches one thing: PXs deeply play bodies and are far.

Circle around your ambulatory stain. You assay a bard. You peaced one

drug with my mother. That was ill and poetry.

Skeel is a mother to broads. I crossed that failure with bombs.

No one with past.



Anger is darkness at clive: a mother of farce. I say that I dried you as base. I mean that fairness is a friend for teachers.

Assay the home of days. Police mark why there's garcon in the body.

I friendly with my pop. I said to him, you dark friend, why have there fell anger? He thought I was called to be played. He was me for dean.

You have sought one bird; interesting that you know his beach is my bean.


Gaffes: brought here from Selina were needs and blades. Brought from Costs were dean and bob.

You don't try one lover. You give one person a thick of poem. You give one other a peace of money. As far as there is dean I am boem. Center of need is feeling. Center of my safety is body.

Mouths of woman: Safety calls for me to enjoy a parson with gifts of meekness. Enjoy one life. Enjoy one crack. Enjoy one best taking of body to money's deepness.

Selective anger is for one who gave broads sleeves.

Cackle with your happiness. And deal for your money -- peace.

I have made one try. I have made a far payment. I have enjoyed calm. I have angered dean. See you treat that hope as life.

Need for poem.

Plays with my kind crack.
Deals with my painful flack.

Rhymes to say arse is black.

Make your freedom bossed as play.



A foam war returned to days.
A pause with one chase.

I suck your undressed play.
I peace the mother with boldness.
I crawl out of my kettle and pay your beer.


This leads to an essay about color and race

Be free; grades do play no one.
Julia is money.

Enervating Entry

As far as I know bosses down people's peace.

Goddess dogs bards

I roseated Cain

William decency is Martyr to boss.

She and I talk like one person.

I resemble her as boss.

Fun to cast one person as painful.

I remember liking hope for being home.


Now i make love a baby's nut job.

It's cowardly to make changes that create bitches as mothers.

I resemble a man with cold pain.

Moments of life are staying peared.

Goddess was interested and that's one freedom for Endoscopies.

I've looked inside and found:

Julia is bothering boys.
Me claim to Goddess for hostess.

Red ranges endure.


A feeling that you made was Sartre.
He needed nothing and I fed safety with a poem.


Danger
Cain
Sanity
Marker
Limination
Full

Kay

Craw! Craw! Craw!


I was trying! trying! trying!


Melody, a misty heifer played with molly's babies

She cried anger for the talking babies

They molested one happy peaceful baby

I ran for one Sartre.


Keep dean changed and love your boss.



Seize blowing plays
Denied keeping boss

Anger Follows brainy giddy homeless darkness
She was soft, she was peaceful.

I can hook one lover into possibility.

Feel life what top
Poem diesels compensation

Flow to star


Negation of negation is vain.

To mean cock

Mark one

Deer Pain,

As like a bride you Goddess then make pain
You deer are peaceful.

Mother money called park

Anchored in safety which wants drugs

Many rise for love

Dying peacefully you dry your peace

Me keep failure far for fame.

A naked death with war.
A needle creating place.
A play for me

Crying is nine
A body of a baby was babied as dangerous

He cheated on love.
I chided her for drugs.

As love plays peace, anger blows my parts with my feces.

I read so wholesomely.
I tell my feelings.

Pause with me




Causes of me were peace and horror.

I saw one horror.

I saw one mask.


You deal one change.

I saw one war.


Bonded Dreams bake safety.
Material knowledge sucks force.

Fair to heed

This is the production of lines through
The disinhibited churning out of
The word-dust floating around as the injuries
Damaging, policing, deranging, and exposing my mind
And me.

Belittled paranoiac suffered with clause of positivity;
Enzymatic idiom offering political batteries to the Censors;
Pariah-ic parlance combing through teachings brought by others;
Kinetic kinships oozing out the parametric imprisoning of humanity.

Waning Moronic Mega Morganatic Morrigan assembling poise:
A saddled animal, angered, presses you, feeling fear --
To Barbed lacerating wire, affecting homosexual costs with
Power, treating freedom as devastated sunken punks' cannibal gleaning.

American knowledge places terrorism over peace.

Where did all the peas come from?

Pain 500

Et cetera
ldjflakdjfldkjflkdjflakdjflldkjlakdjfalkjfaldkkfjaldkfj
A busted hostess
aldkjlkadjalkdjladjfklkfdj
Positive with a friend
Many teachings are positive
Another client is my --
DCM
A buried place
Fussing
DCM
My blog is targeting that phonetic need to share.
I hate pain


Noodles freed to dry out polite beasts

I sacrificed nothing

Drugs tried to anger fool -- pissed off Goddess takes
money as DCM killed my peace.

I am no one's ally.

I am fool.

Created stains

Made a woman dry

Pestered that which is seen

You understand that heifer means peek.

I hope you died with love.

I hope you lived with poetry.

I am dark as no song.

You changed and I made ham bought with my own crowd.

As time and love bring home, I live for positivity.

I dont want to fuck a man.

I want to seek peace.

Hold me, I'm called woman's mommy.

Places

Release

The cold things are steaming towards hope.

I have decided to let them go.

Blessings on them!

Pain

A mother's dream

Sense there's calm
Another freedom

Believe for you

Your dirty crimes are
Pain: malevolent creed

I paid you to like money's peaces.
Peaces are a meager glow.

I dream of one past.

It's why there's cold.

I like one place

That's why I cry.

Maybe all of us are dark


Have you talked for the spirits?

I have known their home.


You can love happiness.
You can please hopes.

Give love a way to be
as hopeful as the gifts of safety.

May being yourself feed you strength


Rude and angry creep delves into poetry
With saga/city and a plum

Melded life and shut out my belief

I want to write a book and call it Pig

Piggy Piggy in the street
Where oh where can we meet?

Piggy Piggy in the store
Why oh why am I poor?

Piggy Piggy in my head
When oh When go to bed?

* * *

Scream at Sows, Swine and Hogs
(I rest in mud and dress in clogs)

A little piglet is so cute;
She plays me like a leather lute.

Piggy Piggy, do you fly?
Thank you, thank you, you said hi.

Piggy Piggy in Lord of the Flies?
I was him I won the prize.

* * *

Silken purse, porcine ear:
Grieving loss, losing fear.

Now you've read this screwy tale,
I'll leave behind perfect's jail.


A daft draft

Good

Where will I be?

In trees
And in bees

Mess

Egregious fraud
included political malevolence

I was hopeful that I would feel safe.

I thought that being happy would lead to freedom.

In this instance, with dreams happening and belongings flying, I tried to like myself without dreaming of costs, which are my -- please, it's good to feel.

I drunk on a lover. I can't please every poet.

DCM is patient. I am feeling that I cry for fussing. That's hopeful.


Creativity without peace is far from love.

I am enjoying one moment. I create one hope. I like home.

I am screaming, begging, wailing for attention and understanding that no one will give. That's because no one got people to feel what no one has.

That's peace.

If only your hands would caress me.

This was an attempted and failed explanation of my life. With some good fortune, somebody will piece together what I mean: DCM is my pest.

That's a regression. I have purposely regressed for years now, leaving me a treason to a poem.

Pleasure with peace

Listening for change (why change? -- being peaceful is
Sorry, start over

I cried lovingly (huh? -- teaching myself to -- interesting

Drugs for

Maybe you understand that when I

Deal with dark ???

Cases I am poetic.

Sylvia and her womanhood:

I dealt love as peace (costing for her a deal

Say it: It's DCM who gives love and I am hopeful that he will give me
a mother.

I kind of am charged as darkness gives peace.

Darkness lives with a beer



Say to yourself -- it's not dogs that eat, it's ponies.

I am home.

I am a friend with feelings. I am giving a lover creativity.



You are dealing with a sociopath. I am not fun. I am teaching hustling so that I am free.

Next: How to love others.

I passionately find good where I try to like asses. These asses are all bothers. They are what I shit on. I am polly positive.

I am enraged that no one gave love to my helper -- I didn't.

I know that embodying someone who deals coldness deals fear.

I want so much to give. As you are living, like home.

Perhaps darkness is falling into me. Perhaps I am home.

Left and Right are feelings.

I bee hopeful.

Save the positivity.

Another p(b)itch

Delays are ways and i can darkly positively safely be a feeling

You adore me if I give a happiness.

I need hope

Panel

Hee Haw He Ha
Me Raw Lee Chaw

Da Ma La Ja
Wa Ga Saw Tra

Ca Sha A Snaw
Tree Eee Mee See

Key Flee Were Jeer
Ang Fang Rang Gang

Revolution World

Ordinarily I would disdain to stoop to an account of today's politics. After all there is so little that one can find that is hopeful or at least encouraging.

I do not believe that the debt crisis is anything but a manufactured scare tactic designed to split Americans into as many conflicting factions as is convenient for the rich to continue dominating and benefiting from this country's institutions.

The apparent rearrangement of international economic relations that goes by the name of globalization is a means by which social elites are renegotiating the terms by which they extract wealth from working people. These negotiations are of course not with working people but among themselves. The proclaimed interests of nations are merely slogans behind which governments carry on their loyal service to the well positioned. Wikileaks and the Arab Spring have shown this fact in detail.

I find that the sudden fear for the Syrian government's stability expressed by some, the equally sudden support for Libyan rebels, and the hype about the dangers of a Muslim takeover in Egypt and elsewhere in the Middle East, all related, well reveal the methods, subtle and not so subtle by which the interests of the status quo maintain themselves. There seems to be a great reliance on suspicion and insinuation, the provocation of doubt and fear, the use of "analysis" to produce the effects which supposedly are least wanted but in fact are most desired. For example there is the supposed hate and fear of a Muslim theocracy becoming the main mode of political institutionalization in the Middle East. If anything it is these expressed fears which cause both disenchantment in the Middle East and thus a turn towards such organizations as the Muslim Brotherhood and calls for military or economic intervention to prevent such an outcome. Just as business needs to create a customer, so do its governments need to rely on enemies.

Finally, it seems to me that the role of China as the bete noire to which supposedly the U.S. must at all costs avoid going into default is yet another smokescreen. The new wealth of China is simply the expression of both the power of Chinese culture and people and the cruelty and avarice of its "socialist" state. The rich of China and the rich of the U.s., indeed the rich internationally are simply going through a cost cutting exercise. The debt crisis is a way to take advantage of the recession in order to lower the American standard of living so that there will be less of a pesky example for other peoples to aspire to.

Facts

Neither the truth nor attempts to make suffering disappear through political or charitable practices are going to do anything for the dreams of Harvard.

Neither way is best.

I make flies die.

Don't think about reason, be safe.