XPost: alt.arts.poetry.comments   
   From: will.dockery@gmail.com   
      
   On Mon, 30 Sep 2024 20:47:01 +0000, cheesetray wrote:   
      
   >   
   >  > cheesetray wrote:   
   >  > polished version   
   >  >   
   >  >   
   >  > the inventors: a bare redemption   
   >  > "yippee-ki-yay" notes   
   >  > from a blue napkin   
   >  > dedicated to bob   
   >  > zimmerman, bella, and life   
   >  > AKA: Tangled UP in Poop   
   >  >   
   >  >   
   >  >   
   >  > children of great men   
   >  > knowing full well   
   >  > the values   
   >  > of hard-won liberties   
   >  > fought and died for   
   >  > by the promised   
   >  > courageous cousins   
   >  > abraham's distant stars   
   >  > kith and kin   
   >  > of sarah's isaac   
   >  > gifted by laughter   
   >  > ishmael, the other   
   >  > wild and strange   
   >  > sons of keturah   
   >  > constructed to be mighty   
   >  > gentle jacob   
   >  > who sweetly stirs the stew   
   >  > even red and savage   
   >  > brother esau   
   >  > now all clean men   
   >  > of the covenant, keepers   
   >  > of their first father's   
   >  > sacred oath   
   >  >   
   >  > 2000 years it took   
   >  > to get back here   
   >  > it was given   
   >  > never to be compromised   
   >  > by hesitation or fear   
   >  > soul siblings, descendants   
   >  > and compatriots   
   >  > deserving of honor   
   >  > and praise   
   >  > born to retake   
   >  > and come to possess   
   >  > this lofty empire   
   >  > of the new moon   
   >  > a reserved republic   
   >  > of their very own   
   >  > dispersed nation shielded   
   >  > from all shame, under   
   >  > a shining name   
   >  >   
   >  > in her recent   
   >  > most happy world   
   >  > suddenly he knocks   
   >  >   
   >  > angels once asleep   
   >  > buried beneath   
   >  > billions of years   
   >  > of driven construction   
   >  > are now terrified   
   >  > and becoming...   
   >  > furiously, wide awake   
   >  > knowing full well   
   >  > in their upcoming   
   >  > reckless acts   
   >  > of violent abandon   
   >  > that they will come   
   >  > to own it   
   >  >   
   >  > they have been   
   >  > selected to receive   
   >  > and will win over   
   >  > this tired servant   
   >  >   
   >  > the trembling spiritus   
   >  > runs and scatters   
   >  > landing twice-baked   
   >  > abandoned looks   
   >  > but lady lazarus will return   
   >  > after getting some help   
   >  > of her own   
   >  >   
   >  > she recollects   
   >  > then realizes, she has   
   >  > but one shot   
   >  > for a first impression   
   >  > must send good cheer   
   >  > but also sees, eyes   
   >  > wide open   
   >  > only to be scared stiff   
   >  > into walking   
   >  > like an egyptian   
   >  > onto the sands...   
   >  > of the moon   
   >  >   
   >  > she is half   
   >  > african princess   
   >  > half female slave   
   >  > daughter of voodoo   
   >  > doctors and rambam   
   >  > she will become   
   >  > a dirty nun   
   >  >   
   >  > they have been born again   
   >  > and carried off   
   >  > into fragmented space   
   >  > through the sculpted arms   
   >  > of armored knights   
   >  > from jacob's round table   
   >  > sentinels on the watch   
   >  > always looking out   
   >  > to protect and serve   
   >  > those sworn in by red   
   >  > and black pledges   
   >  > keepers of the holy grail   
   >  >   
   >  > children now grown   
   >  > are playing   
   >  > in private movie theatres   
   >  > and luxurious   
   >  > fancy white schoolyards   
   >  > frequenting supermarkets   
   >  > on another level   
   >  >   
   >  > they are shooting   
   >  > cosmic guns   
   >  > with magic bullets   
   >  > igniting freedom's fireworks   
   >  > fashioned from mendeleev's   
   >  > annexed table, sporting   
   >  > a cornucopia   
   >  > of fanciful and fantastical   
   >  > state-of-the-art bonds   
   >  > inherited by a new   
   >  > and fitting   
   >  > most worthy stock   
   >  >   
   >  > this wandering brood   
   >  > of brave-hearted children   
   >  > finally freed, are found   
   >  > morbidly celebrating   
   >  > their own staccatoed suicides   
   >  > and the ensuant   
   >  > desired piled death   
   >  > of discrete, individuated   
   >  > independent flesh   
   >  >   
   >  > it is replaced   
   >  > through perpetual rebirth   
   >  > with a planted rejoinder   
   >  > each first fettered in its own   
   >  > iron graveyard prison   
   >  > for seminal generations   
   >  > of the ghosts   
   >  > of dead citizens   
   >  > those helping   
   >  > their hosting homelands   
   >  >   
   >  > a phantom protection   
   >  > of the peoples' heritage   
   >  > proud recorded lineage   
   >  > of all participants   
   >  > in this best   
   >  > ever-fixd marriage   
   >  > of language, and thought   
   >  > mental manifestations   
   >  > of only the truest minds   
   >  > but who, if anyone   
   >  > will capture the flag?   
   >  >   
   >  > this stuff of mighty gods   
   >  > progressively being pursued   
   >  > since first two paths   
   >  > split up on a slumbering mirage   
   >  > has been eagerly gathered   
   >  > by crude tradesmen   
   >  > and excavated in chunks   
   >  > for centuries and more   
   >  > to suit all purposes   
   >  > of man   
   >  >   
   >  > exotic rocks extracted   
   >  > are now being trafficked   
   >  > by governments which wield   
   >  > concealed skeletal keys   
   >  > of chemicals to be revealed   
   >  > to double-folded doctors   
   >  > degreed in their field   
   >  > exploring promethian fires   
   >  > zealously guarded by the shield   
   >  > down to paraphd's running   
   >  > private labs which will yield   
   >  > deductive melees   
   >  > from dmitri's table   
   >  > of elements   
   >  > results of new masses   
   >  > mixed-up lands   
   >  > conductive experiments   
   >  > paranoid tests consummating   
   >  > counseled hypothesis   
   >  > all this requiring evermore   
   >  > research and analysis   
   >  > plying mythic golds loosed   
   >  > from imaginative lands   
   >  > like mapping oceanic waves   
   >  > pounding rocks into sands   
   >  > processing flows   
   >  > charting diagrams of the mine   
   >  > perpetually honing to purify   
   >  > then refine, continually creating   
   >  > rearranging everything   
   >  > in its time, stuff recomposed   
   >  > reconfigured and redesigned   
   >  > fully reformed, until ultimately   
   >  > the inventors can help find   
   >  > a new culture   
   >  > of successful synthesizers   
   >  > for the curious mind   
   >  > like help for a future baby   
   >  > seeking a new womb   
   >  >   
   >  > wastelands of stubborn soil   
   >  > are duly blasted, forging   
   >  > empty hollows   
   >  > for seeds to be sown   
   >  > nurtured, watered   
   >  > and then grown, first etched   
   >  > into a cultivated collection   
   >  > of poisoned roses which faultered   
   >  > borne in time, in their seasons   
   >  > out of poisoned waters   
   >  > out of their multitudes   
   >  > of dripping shells, all beaten   
   >  > by stormy rains, each bearing   
   >  > fresh new fruits from sailing sons   
   >  > who wrestled with G-d   
   >  > and won, they will traverse   
   >  > these time-worn seas, to reap   
   >  > all the wheat required   
   >  > for a bounty of harvests   
   >  > from endless swarths   
   >  > of history's most abundant   
   >  > heavenly fields   
   >  >   
   >  > together, they flood   
   >  > all memory   
   >  > with beneficent grace   
   >  > for those who still remain   
   >  > left behind, diluvian   
   >  > sole survivors   
   >  > at the edge of time   
   >  > who begrudgingly   
   >  > will comply   
   >  > and are compelled to sing   
   >  > as though a cure   
   >  > yea tho' now they, too   
   >  > are sightless   
   >  > for the shadows   
   >  > of that floating rain cloud   
   >  > still hovering   
   >  > over lost visions   
   >  > of uncharted futures   
   >  >   
   >  > entrusted to those   
   >  > for whom it was written   
   >  > still fighting in darkness   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)