Saturday, February 28, 2009
Speeled
Speeled
Speeled
The poor boys flung nicles down on the corornor. The horse was moving way too fist. Eye drew mye pencil from mye notebook and drooped it on the tarmac. The back of the bus is for drinking. Move along little doggies. Eye am trying the attempt will undertaker. Perhaps yews just don’t understander. When the aliens take over and make me King things will changer. Articles and participles hanging in arrears. Call the office and tell them eye am later. There is not whole there is only half. Some drinks are fizzy and non alchol but buzz just fin. My new watch said half fast so eye am late the bus was on time so eye stopped off. Eye am a little a head of myeself butt only a little behind. Eye pinched the bitten the large punic bitten then eye hollurd halper halper eye. Commandeering a tractor pull the switched to on position the pulloe to fight the backed of the seated drover. You can throw a fight even throw a fit but do not throw the baby into the bath water is filthy no matter how you filter it is not Holy unless the Priest of Judas kisses it. Something remembered after a bus ride is best largely ignored and forgotton until after only your return the swans to Capistrano WOW look at all those small Sparrows in the lake. Nicles not nickels not nickles not nice flat silver five cents pieces come look at this dumb pome Martha. What a creep this author is speeled.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The Poltergeist HAT
The Poltergeist HAT
The security guard approached the darkenness he could FEEL the Indian ghost walking up behind him. He knoes all the stories how the burial mounds are rising up in the other world in the darkennessAnd the ghosts walk and just leave messages to the living and the dead ones the message is this the HATHe is a largesse man a man among men no slouch at allHis legs are made of steel like muscles and no fear was ever in his eyes and eye believed his story because of the HAT the one upon his head was a wool cap pulled hastily no doubt from his knapsack bag to replace the one the ghost took from him so very RUDELY.Here is this mans story there was a tug not so gentle upon my prowMy brow was soon exposed to air and indignation as eye fled the theater to resign myself to the long bus ride and now the cap from bag to keep my head warm is causing me to remember the reason that eye fled the ghost is dead and gone how did that dead Indian do that how did he get my hat? The Hat is hanging in plain site on a rope above the melancholy hope of all the dancers of the wind Eye am glad that Indian Ghost did not want my coat or shirt or pants just teaching me a lesson making me afraid of ghosts and legions of the darkenness The Poltergeist HAT Explain
There he was on the Bus Sun Tran eye did not write his namme or his company namme so that the public would not throng the man. His story was to the driver eye only caught some of the phrases about Indian Burial Mounds long thought forgotten under the new buildings he was guarding. The Hat was taken from him by a physical force not the wind inside a theater not a gang of boys with pranks the way the man looked in his eyes face to face and the wool cap on an otherwise dressed Pinkerton gave me pause to collect his permission to write the poem. He said the Hat was taken when he Searched all about the place it was swinging from a rope above his head in plain sight of any vision of the night. He did not waste time in a useless search of the area but called it a night grabbed his wool cap from his bag and went directly to the bus. He told me the Indian Ghost took the hat. And eye believed him eye looked at his legs the steel like sinews of his muscles told me he was not given to fear or other problems that lesser men might have had. The Poltergeist Hat.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
PlagiaristicMissentention
PlagiaristicMissentention
So think carefully ewe and rather quickly it won’t hurt ewe or make ewe dizzy the author of a story writes his heart out on the crinkle paper making something he hopes his friend (and others) et al will love then perhaps someone of low breeding comes along and tells him knowingly eye saw that very story in a book once. Eye suspect you took it from that person who already wrote it word for word it was in Iowa at the Public Library back in 1912. When eye was a little shaver. There. It was a story of mismatched love a triangular expression of jealousy. How cold and how could that country bunion ever have read such a thing wait he said he was a little shaver in 1912 that makes him 108. There. The man is gay he has a partner so much younger than himself and then he is also bi and gets a girl She is ageless so thin she needs to eat constantly just to survive. The man in love with the girl also likes the boy hence the triangle. The boy has no use for the girl at all he only loves the man. The girl will use them both. There. The country blister that threatened me with plagiarism looks rather young for a man of 103. He just simply must have lived too long. Iff eye had simply met him on the street eye would not have knoe. Eye must be cursed with superhuman brainwaves. What a plagiarist. Hare Krishna. A Rabbit God. Herr Krishna. A German God. Hair Krishna. A Hirsute God. Here Krishna. A Present God. Will Krishna. Betty Wont. Boy Toy. The main characters for the Triangle story but wait eye have simply wasted too many time. Ewe will survive my plagiaristic Missentention.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
New International Version (NIV) Books
New International Version (NIV)
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