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She Thinks About Fame

She thinks about fear
with quick step of right foot

And thinks about why
as she swings with strong left

Why she can’t think
of a name
When he’s deep in his greed
for more fame.

Should it not be the case
famous greed has a face?
This greed for His fame
should have Her blazed name
for His infamous Self

Hidden
yet naked
green greed of Her ego-less
to be known
and renowned,
pre-nouned
and revered.

She thinks about envy
to be set apart
with slower right steps
toward most famous of all
on His left.

She worries Her right
to collectively fight
to forget her DearLord’s clearly wrong
infamous death,
A long-term event
in autonomous greed
known only in crossing
His terrorizing Left

He longs for omnipotence
She knows as lack
of changing endurance.

He belongs omnipresently right
She feels nowhere left
to polypathically go.

He wants righteous omniscience
She fears nothing left to learn

Where greed envy colonies
greet Her past sullen deeds
and furious inflamations
wrestling with fear
stepped out and in right
of fame’s polyphonic refining destinations
steeped left

Marching and arching
preening while gleaning
knitting while needing
sleeping while slurping
faming while lurking
blaming in shaming
disgusting and lusting
crusting while rusting
lacking more lucking

Infamous need
to find absence of greed
in original silent green
win/win ultra-nonviolet
Her passioning seeds
His humbling tombed greeds.

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Uncategorized

Ego Ecstasy

I wonder
in powerful awe

If I can see
as well as hear
a timeless difference
between ill-timed ego-annihilation
and health-trained ego-fragmentation
into awed synergetic complex wonder,
chaotic eco-ecstasy.

If I can hear
as well as see
full-timed integrity
so dense
robust
resilient
I am optimally fulfilled
by cooperatively silent celebrity.

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Uncategorized

Inconvenient Lives

Self confident
I would feel inconvenient
to be dead,

Yet relieved in freedom
from trimming toe
and finger nails
and receding hair
advancing down wrinkling neck
and softing shoulders.

Although not confident
I could grow
satisfied with fictional fame,
self-grandiosing glory,
I remain curious
how timelessly satisfying might emerge
historically famous fictions,
glories of grandly granted otherwise.

Confiding ancient secrets,
I could feel confluent
intuiting alive
resilience in freedom to survive
culture’s soft-spoken rhyming terror
flirting with authenticity
of memory’s patterned identity
and difference,
identically coincident.

Faith
masquerading hope,
Light
fading dual-dark air without
within,

True life
camouflaging trust’s pervasive love
Confident
I would feel false
to grow prematurely dead.

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