Tag Archive: topia



There ARE times that a ‘post’ stalls the “author’ long enough to present a better thought. Even as I had called the former “Mrs.”, My MOTHER, and ONE of the two Mothers of ‘the’ “gift” Daughters, ALL, for the WELL WISHES of a HAPPY MOTHERS’ DAY (!)

It’s “difficult” to know that one HAS PRO-CREATED another life, even though these TWO ARE PLANNED and ASKED FOR. And, then being “basically” excluded. The younger is for a MARRIED Couple of whom I’d given the ‘BRIDE’ away to her “Husband” to be / to STAY. Little did I know that there’d be only ONE HAND’S digits of my “visiting” with Her. It makes for the query of what a “surrogate’s” thoughts and, emotions are when there’s NO KNOWLEDGE of WHO the “receptionists” have been.

As to the thought “IGNITE R”*, the images of the TITLE ARE THE MIRACLES that make the following “prose” worthwhile.



‘Tis Mother Earth

that stamps their nature

SAPPHOS even bred word “BIRTH”

within their “NO-MAN-clature”


The draw not “luck”

makes for their GENIUS to Humanity

three-quarters of their YEAR

incept, incubate, Infancy


Their task throughout

is NEVER quite “done”

so here’s MORE PRAISE

for GREAT “SHE” called “MUM”

___________________ The AMAZING…

TWO CELL FISH to be be stopped.

TWO CELL FISH that could NOT be be stopped.


“A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you are fast asleep
In dreams you lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep
Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling thru
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
the dream that you wish will come true”

Cinderella – A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes (Lyrics)
Of the many M.R.S.’ , “SHE” has NO PEER.
Of beauty that defends what rhymes
to trill the heart by force
the strength past loves of brute resigned
is SHE the challenged course
the children strong determined
the “simple” SKILLED of life
their Mother should be Ermined
getting PAST the toils and STRIFES
to once again as “mommy”
though “GRANNY” gets her eye
to GAGE some “lucky” guy


quite tough to be here striking

the cadence from the gray

the lobes see not but lightning

though organize the fray

my digits are not limber

my reason often skewed

but “life” is such good tinder

it loves these interludes


make way for the anger

the stalwartness of ENOUGH

step askance of the hawker

who sells the Corporate fluff

teach well the babe of future

the spark of to be great

wash thoughts no need of Vultures

and soon before too late


how do we tell the next ones

of their lack of promises fulfilled

have any the ovaries or testicles

to take responsibility for the loss

… to the HILT

To have a “parent” that has ALL the tools given them to be a TRUE”giver” of life is much better than a ‘parent’ that PLAYS at the task. Raised by Mater’s “combinants” it is chilling to realize that she only took me on vacations to be company to her “favorite”… DENNY-PIE. As favorite this man has NO desire to enhance the gene pool that HE COULD overwhelm with INTELLIGENCE and ABILITIES that are rare in these times. FIFTY-EIGHT years of age, still living AT “HOME” with MOMMY. Inheriting something that HAS been washed of original purchase. “Farm-able” soil that fed SIX children through the “Great Depression”, WWII, Korea and Viet Nam. Enough TOMATOES to supply the local DAIRY QUEEN, as well as furnish the towns resident owned grocery, until the 1926 purchasers left their shells after 95 PLUS cycles. I guess it’s all a matter of selection and understanding. The type of understanding that “befell” Esau.. a conniving need that WAS bigger than himself. Lucky for me that I’d read the script. It’ s a role that I DO UNDERSTAND. But, unlike Esau, I WILL NOT CRY for some THING that fervor wore away. It’s like spinning the tires OFF a car because of its power, it’s done for only so long. Oh, well. The season IS quiet, and I DON’T have to fake a moment around those that do nothing else. HAPPY HOLY-DAYS!


to be an orphan with living spawn

the attitudes of love as prod

a Mater full of disgusts self made

far from wonder offspring grown depraved

the genius stunted not far long

we’ve wiped the lanolin worked to strong

though life has oops-es strewn around

there’s saving graces most profound

they brought us into a world quite dense

yet, put the effort in this more fence

the “holiday” was from their youth

of what not proud of the passion’s goof

the best part of this simple jibe

is SHE won’t read such won’t proscribe

but, as the book says HONOR BE

a long of life of created’s misery

but, grins all grow as self is built

the proof  “successful”… to the HILT

+++++I still grow as much of my own foods as possible, I’m preparing the LAST Tomato for a sandwich in four days, a pound and a quarter Cherokee Purple. The Broccoli will last until February, as the Collard Greens through the winter itself. The ensuing crop of GARLIC(S) will be TWICE the size in ANY grocery chain’s. And, YET, “they” want their “BABYLON”, gardens reeking of decay by the simple act of sought pride and, NEGLECT. But, that IS the AMERICAN “DREAM”… the ‘Free-DUMB” to DO as ONE pleases.

… life cycles torn by enured

( https://www.google.com/#q=Britain%27s+30+year+slaves)

We all want to be… 1.) LOVED 2.) RESPECTED 3. ‘WANTED”. The infinite, individual definitions, (or colloquialistic “understandings”), that drive ‘people’ to do the incredulous deeds done to another is as vast as trying to count the Atoms from within the sneeze of an ELEPHANT… too much AREA to cover, too much VOLUME to track, and TOO much of similarities to so many others by degree.

As a “NOTE”, this is the SEVENTY-SIXTH “TROMBONE” of this ‘parade’ of words. You HAVE noticed that there’s not much punctuation entered. The reason for this is that I do not “KNOW”  about YOU, educationally, socially or, Nationally.  So, HOW YOU, YOUR mind, puts the “story” together IS entirely YOURS. The gist is there, the WEIGHT is its OWN. I’m just “happy” that someone has taken the time to give my thought some monent of validity.

THANK YOU!!!!!!!

Edger Allen Lovecraft would have loved to have copyrighted the story of these Four WOMEN and One Man. Of course, then it would have been FICTIONAL.

the compass has no magnet to tell us WHERE “we” are
there HAS to be ATTRACTION for PEOPLES to get far
the childishness of color forms distract from better paths
with cores of simple CARE-FULL-NESTS makes something that could last
a weariness of wariness has good folk making hastes
the rush to garner that much mores enhances ALL these WASTES
the children have no “breadcrumbs” foresee a happy path
they age to feel superiors exploding to great gaffs
and, yet the coddle is quite on because truth doesn’t dare
to rise to that their only height is no more that what is bared
in time the mirror shows behind collective or by self
the wobbles tracking tiny lines is covered by faith’s stealths
a step’s a step be up or down just forward is preferred
the journey’s end does not pretend life cycles torn by enured


There are over 25KK Americans UNEMPLOYED ! The “NUMBERS” are one thing… “HOW”  each ONE of these PEOPLE respond, INSTEAD of REACT, to the exorbitant pressures of their lives / livelihoods is ONLY what “the Bear” can tell you of the interior of his skin.

(As “they” want “you” to be. EASY TARGETS…)

is it more SIN

to kill ” myself”

instead of  killing “you”

to stay a ROCK of this age

made of pompous greedy Shrews

the COALS I “HEAP” keep going out

no matter heat put through

my day has come the blessed “Bum”

float above the “ALL” you do

and, though “GOD” does,

it IS His TIME,

what is said surely WILL

for all my  wants

throughout your taunts

not like you, I Never will

_________________Remember… there are TWO EDGES to every “COIN”.

Are these real PRAYERS

I plead to you

do they have worth

some spirit glue

Are there more who can

find your ear

such better FAITHS

so much more clear

The weight upon my HEART today

extended roots held within the clay

my questions flow to many walls

do you have time for small house calls


they saunter
through a glen
of their own
design, construct
an ester
to caress the mind
with heart

walking topia-glyphs
a wind driven rumba
sways the seeker
swats the course

their sighs
make us kites
their shoulders
make us reach
their hips
make us Sequoias
their thoughts
make us RICH

causative, caustic,calming, clamorous
they are the CATALYST
for building
for anticipations

times three
please sing
some more
to me