Young Writers Society

Nothing shall be made sitting on the earthen ground

but

Something is overhead, passing above & behind

in the treetops (whispered)

Don't you see that flowerbed?

dFoReST?

:5

well,

if you had a helicopter

them Stores of lifeless trees would seem

like the Jolly Green Giant had boquet~ed them just for you

the Likelihood that somebody is going to come by and brush your hair back,

whirling around spritely to enhance your abilities

is More likely that your morning dream is something you actually want to get away from

Well maybe, if you want more than hollow brown sounds

your period of dreaming greeted by that tired warped bedpost beaten from your forehead

repeatedly

redundantly

if you want to seCure

Honor: more than UPon hollo , brittle sounds from your brow knocking ‘gainst 

wood-crusted

intellect

paint it ruby, leave it anything but jade

sense tension Lube the Nighttide with unmuddled Reveling aDrift upon Vaudeville’s Curtains

leave behind second chances

but eye the rub that Intercepts

Rotten thoughts more rancid than onion-ringed, slip-’em-on shoes

and turn The Mind’sigh all over like you would MiLK a spigot

*...*

Allow the Walls to be reversed

deltabuse like There’s No Time soon to be a truce

O[rdispersed Outward Bounds….

Hangabout; in fire-reigned tears,

they discourage indefinitely, but I bid you wear them

WEAR:  4 they PuMp Up Portals

in Yore systemic Corners that

even as you put your hand to brute force sit unembellished

For you can only wriggle free with Imagination...

Observe:

Sirens are wailing in my room

The Shores of the coast suckking at my deblumes

They're putting a heart on my mind,

but their seduction is minor

I've grown E!gads a filters in my ears (from so many times)

Whose song I pull on like a cloak, and reward my mind

to my far off Love

breaking the wishbone off

The back of The Great Bear & The Big Dipper, for my drumsticks

While my hair's set ablaze by the south wind

that's blasting up my backside

Ho! Sail on to the next land

pregnated Heart({! expecting the one-time OVerFlow About to go for it!!

The vague treasure map planted eternally behind my visage swims o’er bone-choked Oceans;

My Fair maiden drawing more mesmerising certificates than water, by a lone well

in so doing Rocking the boat a little

partaking the part of what all wise ones want to stumble upon

A princess & a Prince interwound in an inn of inner fortitude & chastity

humbly begotten from among the commoner's line

They’re wild in Rejoicing

& God-fearing so’s they’ll get less and less infatuated with goods up-front and clearer-cryst by-and-by

Christ’s undeserved delicious gifts

Cactus of discretion: even in drought, even in famine gathering from heaven

service, mercy, & trustworth in her eyes

(that have to keep his corally-swathed medallions in check sometimes)

No fan before Their magnolized rims

wafting out duplicity, guise, or self-alignment

Do your homework! Go to bed!

Get up ,Hammered Clam of head and Comb your hair!

God! They broke the Trance!

Where’s the Colors to blend into my Posters?

Strange Sights! I trace their silhouettes like leaves en’swircle the base of the tree that is stripped

Damn it World, I’m coming! But I’ll weave in and out of YOUR REALM O, TOWER of my

DeFENSE between salmon-shrieking blinks of eyes!

My business becomes

what the foolish believe to Cause simply gads of pain for no monetary coMPensation

Neither do you catch even stray notoriety or merit

So how can I stake the pains in the intHOLLERable price I have to pay?

My reply: I may just touch one soul, some way

you know, if i get out of the way so’s the freedom of God can display its True Regalities

Draw up the Legendary blueprint! My endless string of mirth sometimes Blows out the candle

before its time!

Pack up the Camp! double Check my bodily warehouse of concealed weapons

You dare me to care

about a stodgy career in an office somewhere

Other than

The swashbuckling noble?

ejecting much of the “routine” banalities of the florist & butcher’s loins from which he’d sprang

And been formed to be a proper boy, but could not grasp the view how his Head, 

Had only Beginnings...

Blister’d for space to make for All heir-insulting preening and patronizing the missuccess of this

lad 

that playmates & intellectual Adults can’t stand the parroting clicket-ing off the lips of; 

that he of rudimentary age, possessed such diversity of terrains ;

and they -- could engross themselves therewith as well, pap & mam look back thru me,

or were you never-ever a child lacking a helping hand, so by reason of your own horrid mournings

God Himself reached down, and that bogged-down, bloody-fool is taught more than crafty men,

My Father seeing I’d be needing His Hand to give back all things I would ever lose,

equal footing again.

Hence the Student hurried himself up to emulcify its Teacher

)it's bedazzled-by-mortality teachers(

To name a few: aristotle & socrates

Painting unhearable stories up in anticipation of Eternal Coronation

But I... ever-aspiring the Master to Pound Out the actual way

by pinching the paper-thin balloon into imitations for his Exploring babies,

Boarding Boeing 777’s with a scuttle over backyard fences, dying in immature things and taking

note of them

recycling time into Proverbs through double-barrel realms of Immateriality

Still Never neglecting to repartee with the squirrels and honey-bees

Adjoining to the day it doesn’t have to be hypothetic anymore, Galloping afar into the Cities & 

Habitations at leavings-off of the Origins of Immortal organisms