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Successful investing is anticipating the anticipations of others.

quote by John Maynard Keynes
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The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

III.

Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.

IV.

Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.

V.

The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.

VI.

It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.

VII.

The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.

VIII.

Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.

IX.

The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.

X.

The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.

XI.

As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.

XII.

The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.

XIII.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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An Alliterative Amorous Answer

Alliterative Love Letter

Adored and angelic Amelia. Accept an ardent and artless amourist’s affections, alleviate an anguished admirer’s alarms, and answer an amorous applicant’s avowed ardour. Ah, Amelia! all appears an awful aspect! Ambition, avarice and arrogance, alas are attractive allurements, and abase an ardent attachement. Appease an aching and affectionate adorer’s alarms, and anon acknowledge affianced Albert’s alliance as agreeable and acceptable.

Anxiously awaiting an affectionate and affirmative answer, accept an ardent admirer’s aching adieu. Always angelic and admirable Amelia’s admiring and affectionate amourist, Albert
Wit and Wisdom 1826

An Alliterative Answer

Artless Amelia Acme’s answer adamantly admonishing artful Albert Acne’s announced amorous ambitions, and assertive advances, actively advocates appropriate alternatives. Also, attesting abhorrent Albert’s attempted abduction, Amelia asks an adequate aureate award. Advance “ amical ” arrangements are altogether abjured.

Adieu Albert!

Abused Amelia, an adorable angel, aghast and askance, acknowledges agile apostate Albert’s apparently avuncular, albeit astonishingly audacious application, and, as alleged affiancement alliances and anticipations are absent, appends an acceptable, accurate answer.

Aggressively accosted, Amelia acts advisedly, asking an acceptably authentic apology affirming all Albert’s avowed affiancement allegations as archetypal authoritarian autocratic attempts at annulling Amelia’s autonomy. Also, Albert’s absolutely alarmingly acquisitive ambitions afford anguish, anxiety, and, afterall, acute anger. All are anathema, as Albert, an adder, assumed angelic approbation after an abject attempt at abrogating and appropriating all Amelia’s assets.

Agamous Albert’s age, adiposity, and abnormally abrasive accents also argued against amorous agglutination. Agamy appeared advisable as Amelia always aspired at attaining an absolute amour, assiduously avoiding ambiguity. Ardent admiration activated Albert’s appetite as Amelia’s allure and accomplishments attracted all-round applause.

Amelia and Albert are at an apogee. Alliance anticipations are antilogical as Amelia’s aplomb and articulateness, and Albert ’s anthropomorphic antics are as antipodes apart as Aphrodite and an anthropoid ape. Acataleptic Albert, Amelia’s antithesis, acting almost as an aggressive animal, abused Amelia’s adolescent acquaintance, Anabelle, an alluring afro actress, - actually auditionning as an aria alto, - adventuring affront abruptly abbreviated.

Albert’s apologists are accomplices aiding and abetting an attack (after anticipating advantages agreed aforehand) .... At Ashcloth Abbey altar agnostic Albert asked Assyriac Abyssinian Archdeacon Ahasuerus and Arabian acolyte Abdul abn Abdulaziz abn Abdullah Abu an aboveboard absolution although Abbott Abraham Allsaints’ anterior abjuration altered all accomodating actions.

Apprehending arrogant acquiline Albert’s arbitrary approach, Amelia appositely acted appropriately, adjusting apparel. Applause and approbation are apropos.

Albert abusively alledges aristocratic alabaster Amelia’s assent - an assumption as absurd as an ass astride an advocate assiduously assembling an ascorbic acid apparatus!

Abstemious Amelia’s abilities attract acclaim - above all admirable administrative aptitudes, artistic aims, analytical assurance, amiability and amenability. Altruistic Amelia amalgamating agreeableness and authority, always assists aliens.

Alcoholic Albert’s abominations abound, as aforementioned as all adults agree, admonishing an aggressive ambiance........Albert apes affability!

Abusive adulation appalls, accelerates aversion and attracts adverse acknowledgements alienating affirmative adhesions. Allegorical accolades, artificially addressed, accumulate absurdities. although amiable acolytes are acceptable additions. Argot argues against acceptance as avid adventurers assume affected accents -, acquiring added artificial accomplishments.

Addressing amoral Albert, and apprehending amorphous arrangements, Amelia advises acrimonious Albert’s accepting any alternative Abigail, Alice and Anabella, as affianced amourette. Auburns are also admired as are armed assegaie’d ashanti, andalousian, algonquin, anabaptist and amerindian amours:

Abigail, Ada, Adrienne, Adriana, Adelaide, Agatha, Aglaë, Alice, Aliette, await Albert,
Aline, Alison, Amy Amanda, Amandine Andrea, Angela, Angelica, Ann, anticipate Albert
Anna, Annabelle, Anne, Annette, Angelina, Annick, Annie, Andrée, Anthea, alleviate Albert
April, Ariane, Ariane, Arlette, Armande, Armelle, Ashley, Astarte, Ava, appreciate Albert
.....And Albert annoys Amelia! - aggravating!

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Unhypnagogic State

Here today, tomorrow gone, one, wan,
Yearns for yesterday's illusions bright,
Pain shards slatting shuttered pane, blind blight,
Nightmare shatters song that seemed so strong.
Anticipations fed, le[a]d, b[l]ed, sped, gone.
Ghoulish shades shed light that once read right,
Overdrawn check, wreck, suspect, indict,
Grief's reef sinks hurt heart's glow now woebegone,
Intense pain's reign won't wane, tears stain mind numb.
Calm hovers ill at ease, invites insight's
Sullen reaction stormy, tension tight,
Then 'cease upon the midnight' must succumb.
Abyssmal Lethe spawns soul's black hole schemes,
TEmpest tossed, sleep shoaled, unholy dreams.

Hell harmony dissolves, hope melts, felt wrong,
Youth yields stage, page, to age's cage despite
Past pleasure. Mirage mirror's sable night,
Negates lost hopes, frosts urge surge to belong.
Ahead read as dead end where shadows throng
Gulf gift signed disappointment, unplumbed plight
Of mourning for mirth's dearth guessed granted quite.
Ghosts guest gest shared, snared unprepared. Doom's gong
Icy echoes, Eden's exile among
Crumbling crust, rust's dust. Disgust's gust fright
Shivers sends, wrends hope for scope through flight.
Time dreads what fate has read[y], feels pain's prong
Accumulating heartache as fear teems.
TEars cascade, afraid, frayed nerves, soul screams.

Here today, tomorrow gone, one, wan,
Yearns for yesterday's illusions bright,
Pain replacing shattered pane tonight,
Nightmare erasing song that strung along
Anticipations tender, warmth which shone.
Glance chance inspired, joy fired, that once felt right,
Overdrawn, in disbelief, dark blight,
Grief's reef shoal founders soul so woebegone,
In pain whose reign won't wane, tears stain mind numb.
Calm hovers ill at ease, invites insight's
Sudden reaction stormy, tension tight.
To cease upon the midnight, to succumb
At last to tempting Lethe welcome seems
TEmpest tossed sleep lost by broken dreams

Acrostic Sonnet Hypnagogic State Hypnagogic - sleep inducing
Words in brackets convey two or more meanings meanings
First word of each line reads top down:
Here yearns pain. Nightmare anticipations ghoulish. Overdrawn grief's intense. Calm sullen, then abyssmal tempest.
First word of each line reads bottom up:

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Real Thing

Key : - r:- ray
A:- anita
R: its the real thing that makes your body swing
Open your ears for the techno rap sing
Back on the track, no my name aint jack
You try to criticize, so now step back
I travelled the world all round and round
Make a lot of heads go upside down
If it aint rough, no, it aint no thing
Just let yourself go cause youre rolling with the real thing
A: were going for the real thing
R: go! go! let yourself go
Go! go! let yourself go
A: searchin for the real thing
R: do this! do this!
A: come on, come on
R: do this! do this!
A: no more waiting, anticipating
Were searching for the real thing
No more waiting, anticipating
Were going for the real thing
R: I select the thoughts and need from peoples minds
Combine it with my own style, I aint blind
One of a kind make sure Ill find
A way to gain and win cause its the real thing
The music flows, I lay these rhymes
Time for some action, cause its about time
Pay close attention, are you out, are you in?
cause if you roll, youre rolling with the real thing
A: searchin for the real thing
R: do this! do this!
A: come on, come on
R: do this! do this!
A: were going for the real thing
R: go! go! let yourself go
Go! go! let yourself go
A: no more waiting, anticipating
Were searching for the real thing
No more waiting, anticipating
Were going for the real thing
And were not gonna stop
Until we reach the highest top
We dont need, to stop
Well keep on searchin till we drop
A: never stop the real thing
Yeah!
Give me the real thing
R: cheer, cheer, cheer
Let yourself go
Let yourself go

[...] Read more

song performed by 2 Unlimited
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The Door Left Ajar

Everynight,
I wait for the dawn
Hoping,
You might just walk in
From that door
I had left ajar
Anticipating your return.

Then the dawn
Matures into the day
And the day
Dissolves into dusk
My door
Still remains ajar
Anticipating your return.

As the dusk
Gathers more of its colour
And embraces stillness
Like impending doom.
My heart sinks
As if shipwrecked on sea.
My door
Still remains ajar
Anticipating your return.

Then
Everynight
I wait for the dawn
hoping
You might just walk in
From that door
I had left ajar
Anticipating your return.

poem by Anjali Kakati
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Anticipating Impatiently To Be Dreamed

I may toss and turn myself to sleep,
Anticipating impatiently.
And waiting...
To dream of you.

And waiting...
For a view of you,
Anticipating impatiently...
To be dreamed.

I may toss and turn myself to sleep,
Anticipating impatiently.
And waiting...
To dream of you.

And waiting...
For a view of you,
Anticipating impatiently...
To be dreamed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mamas Little Girl

(dennis lambert / brian potter)
I took the ribbon from my hair
And Im letting it all hang down
So, if youre lookin for the same old me
Gotta tell you that shes left town
Dont try to call my number, baby
Youre gonna get no reply
cause suddenly Im changin
Im finally rearrangin
In this day of liberation
Im lookin to find my share
Whats the use of being patient?
You aint goin nowhere
I got my own two-step together
And I want the first slow dance with you
I just saw venus risin
Guess Im realisin
I aint mamas little girl no more
And baby, youre the first to know
I aint mamas little girl no more
I took a little time to grow
Its gonna be worth waiting
The anticipating
Im not mamas little baby no more
Well, Ive been everyones best friend
Someone they could tell their troubles to
How come they never noticed me
And the pain that I was going through?
Ive seen the lonely side of living
I never want to go back there again
The sad old me is dyin
Tonight there is no denyin
I aint mamas little girl no more
And baby, youre the first to know
I aint mamas little girl no more
I took a little time to grow
Its gonna be worth waiting
The anticipating
Im not mamas little baby no more
I aint mamas little girl no more
And baby, youre the first, the first to know
I aint mamas little girl no more
I took a little time, a time to grow
Its gonna be worth the waiting
The anticipating
Im not mamas little baby no more, no more
I aint mamas little girl no more
And baby, youre the first, the first to know
I said I aint mamas little girl no, no more
I took a little time, a time to grow

[...] Read more

song performed by Dusty Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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How Do You Define Success?

The word success means many things to many people
To be considered a success, means that you have made it
The question here is – made it as what?
How do you define success?
Is it by passing an exam?
Is it by becoming a landlord or landlady?
Is it by been promoted at work?
Is it by winning the lottery?
Is it by marrying the woman of your dreams?
Is it by marrying the man of your dreams?
Is it by been in an executive position?
Is it by winning an election?
How do you define success?
Are you successful as a pilot or a stewardess?
What does the word – “success” mean to you?
Is it by been the head of your organization?
Is it by having lots of money?
And how much money determines success?
Are you successful as a member of the armed forces?
Are you successful as a member of the police force?
What is your own definition of success?
Are you successful by been a writer, teacher,
Pastor, evangelist, taxi driver, congressperson,
Medical doctor or a reputed musician
Are you successful by been a sole proprietor
Mechanic, movie star, or the chairman of the board
Are you successful as an architect or builder?
Do you consider yourself a success as a banker?
Success is in the eyes of the beholder
The meaning of success varies and differs
From one person to the other

poem by Julius Babarinsa
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If You Really Want it

You don't have to give it up to come to a stop.
You don't have to give it up to come to a stop.
You don't have to give it up to come to a stop.
You can do it if you want and climb to the top.

You don't have to give up it to come to a stop.
You don't have to give up it to come to a stop.
You don't have to give up it to come to a stop.
You can do it if you want and climb to the top.

Successful,
People don't stop...
A wanting,
To climb to the top.
And dreaming,
To succeed...
With belief!

And...
Often found to weep.

Successful,
People don't stop...
A wanting,
To climb to the top.
And dreaming,
To succeed...
With belief!

And...
Often found to weep.

So,
You don't have to give it up to come to a stop.
No,
You don't have to give it up to come to a stop.
So,
You don't have to give it up to come to a stop.
You can do it if you want and climb to the top.

No,
You don't have to give it up to come to a stop.
So,
You don't have to give it up to come to a stop.
No,
You don't have to give it up to come to a stop.
If you really want it you can climb to the top.

Successful,
People don't stop...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How to measure?

Is weeping, a hobby that people like to do as a pastime?
No, it is a revelation of pressure and hurtful reminiscences,
That plowed their heart and mind to prepare the growing ground,
Those who succeed seldom shed tears, as they reaped,
The good bounty, out of the softened soil that produced,
Those who yet to succeed and have failed, always weep,
For the hurt is not only healed, but also become septic,
By constant poking that stops the wound from drying.
The success is cultural in nature and it is in our mind set,
Are all the people who have more than enough money successful?
Are those who have obtained the highest qualification, successful?
Are they, who have the power over people's life very successful?
Yes, they are really successful, if they have helped and are useful,
So, stop weeping. Think of those good actions that you have done,
Everyone of us is successful as long as we have touched another heart.
Success is not a yardstick to measure the happiness,
that is shared among various hearts that beat in synchronize.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Our popular Government has often been called an experiment. Two points in it our people have already settled — the successful establishing and the successful administering of it. One still remains — its successful maintenance against a formidable internal attempt to overthrow it. It is now for them to demonstrate to the world that those who can fairly carry an election can also suppress a rebellion; that ballots are the rightful and peaceful successors of bullets, and that when ballots have fairly and constitutionally decided there can be no successful appeal back to bullets; that there can be no successful appeal except to ballots themselves at succeeding elections. Such will be a great lesson of peace, teaching men that what they can not take by an election neither can they take it by a war; teaching all the folly of being the beginners of a war.

quote by Abraham Lincoln
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Time's Tide

Those cause/effect relations seek to investigate
ask why life’s lamentations can’t flow past pearly gate,
why can’t hope’s expectations some sects anticipate
show we’re wheeled incarnations, frustrations, fears, negate

Why worry what tomorrow may offer if at all,
share laughter, spurning sorrow, ignoring wailing wall,
each wakes one day, hopes hollow, must piper pay as shawl
in winding sheet few follow, no trumps for final call.

Time's tide has been extended beyond the sands of hope,
free ride from heyday ended, frayed tether, broken rope,
recount lost time expended, events' ghost mirage grope,
as most proud man intended black hole's Time's telescope.

Bright spark - life's candle gutters - so swiftly movements cease,
one cry before heart flutters, before 'Here rests in peace! '
one sigh then parting’s shutters are drawn with no surcease,
one dies while crowd bread butters inheritance apiece.

In youth great expectations mask ignorance - a vice -
few meet anticipations, most, sour, scower at Fate’s dice.
life’s joke is on Creation’s head, ne’er repeated twice,
one innings: vindications leave after-thoughts to lice.

Behind lie verses threaded, skeins sense retains in vain,
life's loves too soon are bedded by Fate immune to pain.
life’s gloves too soon are shredded by thorny greed for gain,
‘Above’ is concept wedded to fear, none bat again.

© Jonathan Robin robi3_0922_robi3_0000 XXX_CDZ 2 January 2001 revised 22 December 2008 for previous version see below

Time's Tide

Some cause/effect relations
would understand and splice -
what wall of lamentations
may give a game played twice?

Why care Creation's date to play -
the aeons ebb and flow, -
Man wakes one day with price to pay,
and nowhere left to go.

Time's tide has been extended
beyond the sands of hope,
the time for games has ended,
what trumps remain, what scope?

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Rock & Roll Band

Well, we were just another band out of boston
On the road to try to make ends meet
Playin all the bars, sleepin in our cars
And we practiced right on out in the street
No, we didnt have much money
We barely made enough to survive
But when we got up on stage and got ready to play
People came alive.
Rock and roll band
Everybodys waitin
Gettin crazy
Anticipating love and music
Play, play, play, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Dancin in the streets of hyannis
We were getting pretty good at the game
People stood in line and didnt seem to mind
You know everybody knew our name
Livin on rock-n-roll music
Never worry bout the things we were missing
When we got up on the stage and got ready to play
Everybodyd listen.
Rock and roll band
Everybodys waitin
Gettin crazy
Anticipating love and music
Play, play, play, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Playin for a week in rhode island
A man came to the stage one night
He smoked a big cigar
Drove a cadillac car
And said, boys, I think this bands outta-sight
Sign a record company contract
You know Ive got great expectations
When I hear you on the car radio
Youre goin to be a sensation!
Rock and roll band
Everybodys waitin
Gettin crazy
Anticipating love and music
Play, play, play, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(scholz)

song performed by Boston
Added by Lucian Velea
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Do I Do

When I see you on the street
My whole body gets weak
When youre standing in a crowd
Your love talks to me so loud
Girl, do I do, what you do, when I do my love to you
When I hear you on the phone
Your sweet, sexy voice turns my ear all the way on
Just the mention of your name
Seems to drive my head insane
Girl, do I do, what you do, when I do my love to you...baby
Sss..mmm
Yes I got some candy kisses for your lips
Yes I got some honey suckle chocolate dripping kisses full of love for you
Yes I got some candy kisses for your lips
Yes I got some honey suckle chocolate dripping kisses full of love for you
My life has been waiting for your love
My arms have been waiting for your love to arrive
My heart has been waiting
My soul anticipating your love, love, love
From the time that I awake
Im imagining the good love that well make
If to me your vibe can do all this
Just imagine how its going to feel when we hug and kiss
Sugar, do I do, what you do, when I do my love to you...all right
Sss..mmm
Yes I got some candy kisses for your lips
Yes I got some honey suckle chocolate dripping kisses full of love for you
Yes I got some candy kisses for your lips
Yes I got some honey suckle chocolate dripping kisses full of love for you
My life has been waiting for your love
My arms have been waiting for your love to arrive
My heart has been waiting
My soul anticipating your love, your love, your love
Ladies and gentlemen,
I have the pleasure to present on my album
Mr. dizzy gillespie...blow!
Blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow!
Do I do, what you do, when I do my love to you
Yes I got some candy kisses for your lips
Yes I got some honey suckle chocolate dripping kisses full of love for you
Yes I got some candy kisses for your lips
Yes I got some honey suckle chocolate dripping kisses full of love for you
My life has been waiting for your love
My arms have been waiting for your love to arrive
My heart has been waiting
My soul anticipating your love, your love, your lo-o-ove
Oh, I dont care how long it might take
cause I know the woman for me, you Ill make
And I will not deny myself the chance
Of being part of what feels like the right romance

[...] Read more

song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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I just want someone to explain to the American public why investing in transportation in Iraq is so much more important than investing in passenger rail right here in the United States of America.

quote by Corrine Brown
Added by Lucian Velea
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This War

You've got the mouth of a she wolf
Inside the mask of an innocent lamb
You say your heart is all compassion
But there's just a flat line on your cardiogram
Yet you always made a profit baby
If it was a famine or a feast
Yes, I'm the soul of indiscretion,
I was cursed with x-ray vision,
I could see right through all the lies you told,
When you smiled for the television
And you can see the coming battle
You pray the drums will never cease
And you may win this war that's coming
But would you tolerate the peace?
Investing in munitions
And those little cotton flags
Invest in wooden caskets
In guns and body bags, guns and body bags
Your daddy was a businessman
And it always made good sense
You know the war can make you rich my friend
In dollars, pounds and cents
In the temple that was Mammon's
You were ordained the parish priest
Yes you may win this coming battle
But could you tolerate the peace?
Invest in deadly weapons
And those little cotton flags
Invest in wooden caskets
In guns and body bags
You're invested in oppression
Investing in corruption
Invest in every tyranny
And the whole world's destruction
I imagine there's a future
When all the earthly wars are over
You may find yourself just standing there
On the white cliffs of Dover
You may ask, what does it profit a man
To gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his soul?
Is that your body you see on the rocks below
As the tide begins to roll?
And you invested in this prison
From which you never got released
You may have won this war we're fighting
But would you tolerate the peace?
There's

song performed by Sting
Added by Lucian Velea
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Caught Up In The Investing Of Bait

Those caught up in the investing of bait,
To have their way...
Find much too late,
We all will learn from our mistakes.
With lessons to learn.
And many of those lessons come,
Without the avoidance of heartache.

The ones who benefit most from this process,
Seem to be the ones selected to be victimized.
With opened eyes now wide and a clarity,
That does not keep them distanced.
A retaliation is sought to return a misunderstanding.
With the use of a mental weapon to unleash,
Like never before or ever felt needed to display.

Those caught up in the investing of bait,
To have their way find much too late...
How difficult it is to admit mistakes.
And escapes are out of the question.
Especially when the paying for them,
Comes at a time they can least afford.
As those baited are at the door seeking revenge.

'Remember me?
I have something of your doing,
I would like to return.
Don't look so frightened.
I am as harmless as you thought I was.
And I will do the best I can,
To leave you with a taste of it.
My interpretation...
Of course.
Aren't you going to invite me in? '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mixed Messages

Do you know,
What I think I do?
Your messages are sending me a meaning.
I interpret most of them as being mixed.
I think you know it.
And that's intented.

Do you know,
What I think I do?
Is there something here we should be investing?
With some time given,
To digest!
If we conversated to replace the guessing.

I'm not the one to be confused about a message.
I'm the kind that likes it more direct.
If you've got some feelings for me confessed them.
Help me out here,
Let's not start a mess.
Eliminate the guessing,
And put this at rest.

Do you know,
What I think I do?
Is there something here we should be investing?
Let's eliminate the guessing,
And put this at rest.

Do you know,
What I think I do?
Help me out here,
Let's not start a mess.
The less guess work will put my mind at rest.

Do you know,
What I think I do?
Less guess work will eliminate a mess.

Help me out here,
Let's not start a mess.
Less guess work will eliminate to put this mess at rest.

Do you know,
What I think I do?
Your messages are sending me a meaning.
I interpret most of them as being mixed.
I think you know it.
And that's intented.

I think you know it.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Panhandler

The panhandler sits on the street corner.
He asks me, "Spare some change? "
Like an empty vessel, I walk past him.
I see him as another empty vessel.
Some throw him a dime,
But I treat him as a vapor.
My spirit tugs at me.
My mind says he is a ghost,
But my ghost says he is real.
The currency he needs is my time.
He might be looking for his next fix,
But what will it fix?
Another lost soul, looking to get even more lost.
The root of all evil is planting another seed of discontent.
If my God is money,
Your free time has no value to me.
Anything that is free is void of value,
But time is really my only currency.
I only see the value of my own and not another's.
My account has no statement,
For when it is gone,
I will be broke.
I hoard it as if I were broke.
Investing only in myself.
It is why I feel broken.
Some time left in my breast pocket?
It beats to help he who is beat.
Spare time is something I have.
For it really is my true value,
Given from the heart of God.
If I lend some of mine to another,
It makes Him proud.
It is the core of my love.
It is the gift of His love.
He is truly my bank.
I bank on Him,
I count on Him,
I trust in Him.
Currency says "In God We Trust",
But can God trust in me?
Investing my time,
In one who is broke.
The dividend is joy.
The change in the pan will be spent.
Could he be searching for my gold?
I fill another's heart,
I see my investment grow.
With God's currency,
I am truly rich.
Though, I am only on borrowed time.

[...] Read more

poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The Seduction Of The Vampire

In her way she encircled him

told him in their talk the night before

of her desires and fears with her eyes

stroking then his flowing cape

mesmerized by his stately broad gestures

his white, long slender fangs

tingling with, she thought, some previous nights

blood-soaked delight;

and she could see he desired her too

was attracted to her soft dinner table tremblings

as she sat next to him.

But then that interest devolved to mild interest

perhaps, she thought, sated from other conquests

or perhaps more attracted to other lades

who looked plying for his staring eyes.

Or, perhaps she thought, he was not attracted to her

so she small-gestured to him her gleaming white neck

while reaching for the salad fork

feeling him react
mentioning in the process

that she always left her window open

at night

communicating to him

that she was often afraid

that someone or something would fly in
and have his way with her;

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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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