Scamper Splatter

Craiyon

I confirm

Parts of my life

Deliver mementos

That make me squirm

From toxic

Moments

I affirm

Motions

Choices

Of a term

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Never fear

Pitter patter

Scamper splatter

Motion smear

To be clear

Those pounding

Footsteps you hear

A running dive

To self immersing

That pays the fare

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Causing a row

Sloshing basin

Filled to the brim

With what I sow

Paraffin bathing

Coated shiney

Head to toe

Emerging bow

With crystal clean

Purest of pure

Dripping now

Carve

👻

Slice away hollow all hallows disguise of fear

Where pumpkins grin

While humanity plans sin

Tricks and treats all beat their feet

Through urbane humanities urban street

Foolish fantastical ways of thinking

Gunna get them something sweet to eat

Still the strong eat the meat

While the meek all retreat

Carve through realties flimsy costume veneer

👻

Guzintas and Gozoutas

ᕦ༼ ~ •́ ₒ •̀ ~ ༽ᕤ

I find myself living in the cosmic combo platter of prompts that feed directly up the flapdoodle flagpole that is my stream of consciousness. Trying to make sense of the chaos that is the firehose of information of all flavors while sorting through what may be plausible as opposed to implausible makes me realize that my inputs are like this mess of cables on this utility pole flowing with flapdoodle opinions to the internets while becoming the material basis for many immaterial opinions posing as expository ejaculations of noisy nonsense, twaddle, and other wu wu waste management emissaries that are well outside my immediate sphere of influence. Now that I have expunged my flapdoodle foliage into the stream I will devour a heaping helping of flapjacks with a good portion of thick syrupy material on top.

ᕦ༼ ~ •́ ₒ •̀ ~ ༽ᕤ

Rock Steady

Photo by Orlando Allo on Pexels.com

ᕦ(ಠ_ಠ)ᕤ

In the world I was born into
There were rules handed down
From all the people around

No moaning
No crying
No sniveling

Toughen up
Suck it up
Pick yourself up

No blood
No broken bone
No doctor needed

Shake it off
Walk it off
Don’t be a big baby
Nobody likes a whiner

Were they
Was I
Was the world
Off it’s rocker
Or on it?

Any Port In A Storm

The sun rises and I PORT into my fancy binary ciphering machine for my morning imPORT input stream. Download all the compiled dreams and extraneous bytes of the nonsense my fleshy skull soft drive gleaned through it’s sensor array the day before and collate that which may be imPORTant and that which can be ignored, with the disclaimer and knowledge that I do so at my own peril. When on the lookout PORT side it’s usually the starboard side that gets you. After exPORT I gather my PORTable combo cipher / adding machine and wander out to the PORT of Chicago for my morning sortie.

Port of Chicago 2020-08-25
BartShore, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons