Incino Man

I suppose withdrawal is a factor in my inhibited nature.
I change in the opportunity to challenge my purpose.
I missed in resisting "the need."
Its taken me courage to overcome my many arduous obstacles,
I become a necessity of.
Thinking better as I really am,
I value empathy.

No individual:

- naked - .

I would lie?
I would speak the truth!
My lack of expression;
in my empathy for a coward,
not an enemy.
My intensity is a silent extremity.
My threshold is made of in virtue.
A ring of fire,
flames I stop,
I have ignited,
I share,
I see.
(My dreams) are not of straw-made-figures,
rolling down an empty tin of chicken stalk.
The corrupt are not true to a hero.
I have changed in my approach of such unpredicatble magic.

Unresponding Seriously (Crazy-thought)

My big smile keeps the faith alive.
I've dismissed my melancholy.
I am my equal;
an allegory of my own nature?
I am better-well reminded of the charm
in forgiveness that only benefits me!
My blistering structure of congeniality
is an intellectual image.
My lifestyle is not off limits
as I push-then-pull, shout and scream my way
to the top.
The kind of sale-I-answer
no amount of (money) cash-advancement. . .
pity cannot buy from me.
A vanity I try:
not in feeling alone or to be left out in
. . .the cold.
Making a case for myself as I go must go through me.
The discretion of an indecisive-type individual,
shy in my love,
I direct with caution,
my movements make no room for error.
A vision of something I care to trust,
whereas it seems that nothing is out of the question.
My joy I share "happy" -
happy inside me as not if asleep.
A recognizable obsession, as though only reconcilable,
or for sake of "sleep" is in fact my personal-obsession.
No ordinary love.
Nothing is ordinary of my love. . .
I value, I being worth it.
Pushing my envelope while not preparing an excuse
to be sorry for or apologetic about.
Not sloppy-therapy in my guilty-pleasure.
To this I do defend in my honor.
I am on the other-side of my world.
I'm raising my standard to this I'm in.
I will wait my turn for these hands to get a hold of it.
This my code that I observe in my own suggestive behavior,
I subject to myself.
Such consequence I will not commit to desire or chance.
The risk I have to take is calculated without predicting thought.
I am the thoughtful one of all.
My matrix of this my thoughts in energy.
No mechanical shadow,
I inclined out of me
to decline or dare I declare dismissed of me.
I love winning as much as I hate in watching.
My own sense is of satisfaction in my luck,
that I leave breathless.
I feel that my power to reason has not failed me in response,
or held me in captivity, yielded my confusion left behind,
I look through what lay beneath hidden from view
wielded upon my surface.
My big crazy smile,
I hit the ground running.

I am a doctor

I am the difference you gave me, doctor.
That a gift is of devine intentions!
My eyes shut-tight;
as I listen.
A baptism by fire:
my 'spicy reverse-pswychology' in training?
Setting the boundaries for my maker.
A spirit that sets my heart free.
I am a student that masters the art,
to be-a-man, take-action, as I seek-redemption.
I run, I run, I run. . .
pure adrenaline rush. . .
full throttle. . .
witout the position to compromise 'I' myself.
Time-sensitive are my hands that heal.

To succeed you need to find something to hold
on to - something to motivate you - something
to inspire you.

Tony Dorsett

On the subject of my-future-behavior

Creativity is nothing but
a gesture without any lack of
initiative; my thought in happiness?
I'm equally reminded of my weight!
How, I believe, my "closet friends"
are stuck behind the door.
In the future I reveal my distant past
serves my memory well:
as if Stanley Kubrick were directing my film.
I would challenge myself of no deviant nature present
in my acting habits.
My style is of great opportunity to me.
The script I own has been writing itself for me.
No mistake I've made.
My tender, love, and care.
My competence factor 'x'.
My concentrated desire,
I focus on the fate of my becoming.
My perfect crystal-ball and chain,
why not express the truth I command.
Such as 'eating.'
I do not desire to express despondence in my eating habits.
I automatically obey the rules of digestion in my stomach.
Brilliant, radiant energy of the mind.
My hunger is in my stomach.
Of all places throughout every part of my anatomy,
my stomach is the most seduced of all.
I have an addiction.
My obsession is in the thrill of dynamics for food,
as I am a hungry, hungry-man.
The thrill of my appetite.
It is in my stomach that forces me to believe in all things.
My temptation cannot, must not, ever be suppressed.
Nor, can it ever be oppressed or mislead.
I repent.
Therefore, I seek redemption.
Through such slander or accusation,
I bare false witness to.
Not to push, pull or test the limits.
Character is not a question of my dignity,
it is a victory over high maintenance involved.
My body - is in my stomach - a property right.
As I gaze into perfection of a pond that glistens,
avoid eating foods that will not benefit my weight.
Eating smart is healing the stomach.
My diets should not give me negative thoughts,
"related to anxiety".
My independent survival is not the source for
my own confusion.
My stomach deserves premeditation.
My departure is not imminent,
I do not mean to get hurt myself.
Hearing the sound of my own voice I love.
It is a feeling of personal resurrection.
A choice.
Decision.
Challenge.
A sweet sound.
It is the base of my actions.
In leading by example
not waiting for the truth to arrive.
That I observe in such lazy-behavior.
Making myself think bigger
than I really am.
Made up are my thoughts that I am worthy of.
I have made up my mind.
That, I truly I am not unworthy.
The end of my story begins again, and again, and again.
As I keep myself alive and well with the sedation of good-coffee.
I have an untiring persuasion.
A paranoid threshold of intolerance lacking in defeat.
That competetive spirit I force to feed,
the mouth of unparalled yet equal conceit.
This is the nature of my plot,
my story,
requires me to finish in its replenishment.

The asking price

In the name of human error;
I fight for every inch?
Answering my critic!
Reasonably adaquate,
my self-esteem.
I have no indifference to
my solution of protesting-intuition.
My distinction.
My character.
My personality.
With nothing to lose I cut my losses.
No demeaning my redemption.
Not in losing my mind.
Patience is my only virtue unknown to man.
In practice I participate its personal-reward to me.

My Silent Treatment

I do not believe that myth;
make legend?
There is no limit to such:
is my redemption!
I breath with all my joy
and sorrow for its inception
of a happiness in potential.
My carousel of thoughts held between
my sealed lips.
Burning in my mind is the desire.
Revelation.

Winners take time to relish their work, knowing
that scaling the mountain is what makes the view so
exhilerating.

- Denis Waitley

Why I co-operate

Known in the paradise of grapes;
these are my words of caution?
Procedure and to protect I serve,
prevention and contempt!
To rise from beneath the ashes I left behind,
my heart I lift divine.
It reveals my character - truly:
as I learn in letting go.
I address my fear with a survival instinct.
That for I helps me feel the fear and do it anyway.
Thoughts of dreams I become a hero
as I a champion.
My dreams of thoughts.
My potential will not escape me, and the
truth I shall not evade.
To get my full value,
they shall dig for me my grave.
That I weigh the truth,
and color my dreams.

Not about my awareness

Confidence of tears and joy:
eaten alive.
No one wants to do your work for you.
What the old man failed
to figure out,
but failed to accomplish.
My accountability is common sense.
Happy, staying alive.
Content in my volume.
My cause, I play no pretend
course of attitude in trust.
I can feel a calm surrender in my authority
of the truth.
The logic of all my dreams in my secret forest;
an intoxicating blend as time runs through my veins.
I ellicit this as a crazy response!
Without my self-defeat?
It is I in my future.

Instinctive Model

I mean to say nicer things about me
in this weather of my dreams.
Shattered with pride in its glory.
I give the need deep in my heart.
Not a spec of dust on the canvas.
It emits sunshine,
a light from high above.
My curiosity has risen to the storm.
Tranquility running through my veins.
Waiting in the chaos,
petrified in the shadow.

What I am Not

I'm not a crook in my eyes.
The sense of divine-inspiration.
My divine-intervention in thoughts.
Of no gain in monetary wealth or stature.
What is my purpose if not then,
to serve. . .
my bond I own.
I share.
I serve my source for divine-inspiration.
I model of my divine-intervention
that out-sources my material-nature
as a whole.
Spiritually spoken I out-source.
I expect an intensity that not
deteriorates, not that it diminshes in its morality.
I anticipate the need for respect.
I hold time still.

In the valley of my eucalyptus

Washed clean the eyes of my taking-breath.
The most powerful knowledge in the universe is my heart.
Time is not constrained no restraining it.
Truth and solitude are my companion;
to help wipe away my tears?
The healing power:
no-desperation!
I'm not hard done by,
pressed for the luck of my sensitivity.
The vulnerability of my luck.
Because I care, only.
Not torn in the thought I squeeze out from within
the depths of soul-myself.
As quick as an eye drops in thought,
as free as gossip.
Not as easy screaming the charge-false,
this strain I feel.
Out in the open, more
than a million.
I find it in me, a charming difference.
Safely, in assuming my nature is its own reward
that-is.
Playing nice no restless warrior-king myself
king warrior.
Necessary, room-to-burn conduction.
Combustion but not empty-hearted.
I over-analyze in what I say with flowers.

A psychotic paranoia

Nothing, can I be replaced that is complicating my warm sense of
spirit.
I seek retribution, redeemed.
Meaning in Valentines Day.
My priority in the truth;
The politeia in poesi: a political word.
A complimentary commitment,
the prudential address for my valentine!
I face the currency of time, I face the music,
I face my love in poetry.

Dealing with an intrusion of no peculiarity,
dismissing or applicable of thought?
Such common sense attributes the ownership I express.
Ownership, exposes what reveals a reflection of the self
in I am me.
An adulterated audit of this my narrative.

What is my courage is to predictability.
What my hope is to reason.
What my understanding is to privilege.
What my decisions is to no one is bigger than I am a man.
What my paranoia is to superstition.

Valentines Day in theory, bricks, pianos, struck
by lightning I think does not worry me.
Love, is not too much of bribery.
Divine-love is no conspiracy to of me.
The maze is a labyrinth of thought.
I consist to conjest in its repetition.

I Riddle Me

That I appear confident and strong in my
power bold and beautiful.
I am not going to refuse fate or destiny;
I am not a fake!
I am not a punitive favor?
Three strikes I'm in-not-out.
An adult audited narrative that I compose,
which no one is bigger than I am a man.
My double.
I am not unreasonable to cover its speeding.
What I have in loyalty is to honor.
Is in my royalty.
The imbalance of another person, I want more
of my own balance.
Not an imbalancing-act per se.
There's no other way when it comes to the truth.
I keep the door shut tight.
What it comes to an end if for.
A successful romantic if its for.
Reprehensible my need.

My good heart of a revival benefiting-cost.
This in my good secular heart in being.
My secular being is in its order.
My common sense in of which the I can trust only.

Without such misplacement or the error in my judgment
displaced, I will learn having survived to its decree.
This my revelation of thought
in a challenging common sense
of contradiction.
Change-of-chains in a ring.

I will not set myself-up for such is failure
upon my personal confession.
In my warm gentle winter breeze
thoughts can escape to.

My memory is taken to the point of its revival.
Conscious operating values.
Monetary gain.
No loss in profits.
There is no change in memory over guilt or remorse.
My thespian and stoic device moving backwards in time,
reserved and reversed.

The noblest search is the search for excellence.
- Lyndon B. Johnson

A Real Man

Where there is clear;
extreme danger
present!
When facing the truth:
over sighted?
Perhaps my mind is split-in-two.
A polarity that simultaneously exists
between paranoia and superstition.
Where the matador meets its target,
then staking the ferocious bull
Senhor matador realizes purpose.
A purpose to remain faithful to his lover of choice,
Only the kind of love one has in such thoughts.
To seize the raging bull is the meaning behind the purpose.
From the time the matador raises its weapon,
enraged the bull has met its target
but alas – nothing can change its destiny.
The matador has met its match.
The melancholy of the bull begins to dwindle.
No longer is the bull a target,
The bull was never aware of it.
that the matador was gentle in its execution,
probably graceful, peaceful, does the matador stand as a symbol.
this story between the matador and the bull,
Is one where the spirit dwells.
It is not barbaric, killing, or about violence.
We live emancipated in our own dwelling place.
Such as in the ring of matador and beast upon spectators observe
as theatre.
The stage is filled with paranoia and superstition of what could happen,
should it end – or would it reveal something.
If paranoia parodies the matador and superstition satires the bull,
the matador produces a feeling of honor is to its lover, the love is infallible.
The bull compares to a superstitious type of matron, unaware of itself, untamed.
The superstition is why the bull reacts to the matador.
As the matador approaches, the bull has no sight.
The-vision of a bull and its matador is one of unification,
inquisitive expressions in excessive fear with force of the-bull represents.

In the discretion of humanity

The rich getting richer;
and the poor get poorer?
In the sad emergence of time!
A mystery of the soul is not to be avoided:
a gift of love is where help is close to home.
My decision.

An evasive defending decision-making

This personal obession that stretched as a hobby;
my hobby is a personal obsession
of secular-balance?
No one is bigger or better than I!
The truth known is unto me,
in-best decisions that I make for myself.
No better lack of intolerance.
Bonanza straight in the eye - I
give me:
a head start.
No excess weight in motion
on the other side of the world.
Meticulously arranged in a well balanced
order of time.
A change where when things will go my way
in secret.
A pretensious fool unadulterated in no-mans-land.
Turned away from thought.
2nd in command what once was lost can
now be found unmiserable not used.
A loyal hijacking in the air
this the mysterious surrounding scenery
of an outlaw with the-right-idea in mind.
Living beside myself trying not to reach out.
Leaving the parrot hanging in its cell.
I am not ready to think twice or worry about the weather.
I feel prepared.
The true color of dreams,
speechless as I listen.
A privilege taking it to the edge of the line.
I trace my thoughts on the outside to join the
inner circle
to reveal what it feels of.
All a part of the plan I had.
Where there is no truth,
intrigue is not possible.
What ignites bigotry is error in the truth.
My self-esteem can test.
I shall only not be resisted.

Applying Mouth Wash

Innate
Natural
Thinking
Intelligence
Potential
These are the things I
associate with feeling.
I heal.
Its open to such other things,
opportunity, creativity,
organization, and
productivity.
It is the I must convey;
no over-acheiving model of my
grandiosity?
The future:
is now here in waiting!
A whisper in my mind.
In between its dwelling.
I am in turn.
In turn I am a willing participant.
I am a full willing participant in its turn.
Not required to be anxious in the interest
of such evil thoughts that legalized end for divorce.
A hot craft I more than deserve better.
Better I deserve.
I do not spawn the courage of what went wrong.
I receive the message of what is right.
To me.
The swelling of such enromous density.
What goes around comes around,
I've come back welcomed to it.
I will not be issued warning as the subject
for my abuse shall.
I demonstrate to develop my leading by example.
In my future with no double-standards present.
I am my full willing participant, "the double".
I appreciate to do with such carefully depicted,
my grave concern in objective matters.
I am doing something not without the purpose
I have in mind.
Loose and constrictive,
inviting and engaging
to the all.
I fairly disagree about the fragile bullying
as dreams do become reality.
Tamed by love in no bigger choice of an apology.

The Ace Rehabilitated Are

My rehabilitation is in the moment,
a trace of self-confidence.
Modest in talk a matured xenophobia,
I sense no regret.
Not tricked into thinking.
Ticked off.
For the favored vigilant cause of justice.
The purpose of no deadly rehabilitation.
I freely spend the money I have to play with.
As sure as the stars above,
Concentration to what you do is change.
In dedication.
In my responsibility is to awareness.
In attention.
I traced its roots to me.
I am not misjudged under my skin,
my scars, my wounds, my lusts,
my temptations.
In this my intersection of thought,
I trust both my pride and my prejudice.
In my instincts I have made hours of progress.
The pride in such loss prevention.
I carry it all behind me.
Protesting my own private pool in homage.
My personal private image.
My delicate touch is.
There is no doubt in my fondness of the matter.
As I safetied an undiscarded adventure within
achievement.
I'm no bigger than an ethical decoy.
Appointed no sorry apology.
That-no dignity can erase bigger than I.
Ethically not in case of the loss treated scarily
or preferred its inventory.
My troubles not in I are made temporary.
You don't pretend an accident of unknown symbolic;
in nature's laws?
The volume of my tooth-aching:
in such
sensitive noise!
A literary giant such as in the power
present of I.
Of course what I am referring to myself,
is the metaphor of a fable. . .
the Sleeping Giant.
Without its claim to debt.
My area of expertise in target of
a self-esteem propering consequence.
A whiffing of immorality whipped of dismay.
Shaping up my attitude in thoughts.
Beware, my thought in attitude it be aware.
The science of one's reason
all in evidence to its conduct.
This is not a money making relationship,
well timed in its preperation. -
Sympathetically wounded
- I wait addicted to the habit.
These are all of the answers given.

Popsicle Sticks in Paradise

I pursued the moment;
and this in case I state it.
In the ocean-aquatic thoughts of
marine life, I assume no bullying.
There is no pretense to the thought.
A radical new design as if I wasn't
there!
I new radical design of the initiative,
I keep up to me.
Will not my spirit in slowly dying allow?
No serious lapse in judgment: split iron
of vulnerability or being impressionable.
A gross misrepresented relapse.
As my love carries on encouraged by the
enthusiasm or lack thereof.
Through no amount of decay in thought
I let out.
Only in my heart it comes alive.
In this my place of refuge, dreamed of
celery sticks covered with peanut butter.
I'll be there for you.
Not me to limit.
I push to the limit.
Not to test my limits,
but rather I push then pull.
Not in limiting myself.
I will not limit what sets me apart.
A one way street on the freight train coming home.
From day to dark.
Dusk to dawn, non-stop.
Friend of my sunshine.
My safety in daylight to nightfall.
Maturing xenophobia when nothing is improbable,
retains distant memory.
Vying for the affection of an earth-flower
unknown in its time.
Asking to fly with the birds,
in the most promising of prey of worms.
This monster-attitude too small
in a world its unfounded for.
Such fun in the nutrition of love.
I create.
Without, with such I wager my own competition.
That I care to redeem myself .
Sound in my nest of sleep.
I rest.
I feel it in my soul.
I can relax.
My honor is to method.

A dream it feels so alive.
Adrift cast in the shadow of time.
Act - in its history as I've said and done.
A past life.
Maturing in the odyssey.
My truth has been found in it.

Of this I make myself aware,
I am in discovery.

Self-made expressed in my interest of an unbreakable
molded spirit.

I put its strength that altogether in my parts.
Together I resonate from it.
Of a weight in characteristic.
I shall wait.

Decorated in thought the paint, because the paint
does not look bad as dry.
I'll show you what love is in ecstasy without
loneliness.
I'll make it.
Be sure to break the puddle
with a splash.
No misplaced beauty or precautions fear
of anger.
For every premonition I gather spurs my curiosity,
into a revelation of mediocrity.
A revolution in the credentials I have its credibility for.

I keep a watchful eye on my weight in sleep
of which I breath.
I am confident about, that nothing is going to happen.
I have no problem with the love of my broken research.
I have not failed a Rosarch Test to pass.
A crash test dummy strung with bells on the run.

Allergic in response to a sudden tragic end.
A shallow fascination.
Moving parts of a hero in rescue.
Not to be underestimated or undervalued,
as for living in-th-past.

I love the smell of a croissant.
A teasing taste of its delicacy.
I love the sound of music,
NOT 'punching' in my ear.

I feel free more relaxed.
In trying something inspirational,
because I said so.
The target of a truth not required.
My value in full potential,
for a dollar.

I must confess my dreams.
That-naturally my fear is not drawn.
My mother's undying love was born from.
My disorder in chaos.
I live to the.

Take my advice.
I screech like an eagle,
scratch like a monkey,
and soar like a hawk-owl its prey.
My teeth in the shadows not after I bite.
Before I even knew it.

A huge massive sleep without any weight-loss.
An awareness gained.
My addiction for habit,
feeds the king in me.
Capitally in vision.
There is no return to my paranoia.
This only so unreasonably torn am I
engaged in the thought.
A subsequent transformation,
that no one is bigger than am I
to save face in order of its nature's-quest.
Therefore, in obedience I starve at the thought.
There is no transparency in the discrepancy of
romantic-judgement.
My weight in deduction reduced-fear.
An eduacation in guessing.

In the Future of Turning thoughts

I recovered from my return.
The relief is profound!
No nature of the paradox in a middle.
All in the context;
of tragedy disabling emphasis.
A victims-charity.
The quality of no:
misguided or undirected
force-of-impacting.
The nature of reliance in arms-length.
The biggest difference in evidence
of conversation?
What reveals in the past!
Knowledge of dinosaurs.
A hand heals the heart.
The soul of an empty-skull.
Playing with the light-switch.
There's no turning my back -
on the consistency I've applied,
- as result.
My reply of responsibility.
My interpretation of dreams.
From my ranks of the undefeated.
Coincidentally starving for an excuse
not to be avoided.
Having a hobby is good to kill time.
No error to please the mystery.
They call me Mr..
A description of hope,
in hide-go-seek.
The fox alive from its recovery.
The fine taste of gum frozen in its flavor,
working on common sense attributes from
my allured mouth.
I am feeling no pain.

The Line

Going deep as I went I am soft, delicate, discreet, alluring is
my potential and tender in its flesh.
I go to other means of alternative!
I’ve saved for judgment;
not for dead?
Brushed against-law:
sleeping with the enemy.
A strong-popularity in abdication
Bringing the news to myself.
I’ve learned to reflect the value of meaning
on the-safe-side so I don’t get hurt.
That I can safely handle
the questions and answers
of disappointment.
That bridges the gap
Of my awareness between
the gift of peace, and the
name of a dove.
Not in leaving much too little.
Be desired.
It is an exploration in my full potential,
of a discovered motivation.
Plagiarizing avoided in behavior.
A powerful symbol of the union,
an SOS.
I adjust the light-switch.
Do my thing.
I don't have to change who I am.
My potential unlimited.
NO apology owed in the feud.

Elite in Commands Operating

Such cold and fragile vulnerability can only relate apathetic.
Look what I told you.
The sleeping giant, awaken.
I’m not stretched in procrastination,
I travel knowing how far I will go.
I can make great lengths,
without taking-in-a marathon.

The Deliriumed Boss

Now more than ever;
no fear resembling an inadequacy of
radically subversive altered in state tactic or strategy.
Me, I offer?
An opinion no-nobody asked for!
An unattractive surgical-element:
is no reason for.
An evasive heat crescendo rised as I try in maturing
the better of my love-in-passion best.
Not am I cohersed but conducive to contribute
outside the box.
Nothing is improbable "it's so easy".
You cannot escape delirium,
with maturity, my fire in the hole.
The brain trusted-power of a custodian.
A skinny diet of no foul-odour if not when
then is taken all away.
An ignoring vanity.

Our attitude toward life
determines life's attitude
towards us.

- Earl Nightingale

Huge Reccomendation of a true-story

Not to slaughter in the adrenaline
hurried-rush.
A prepared time in narration
of the mind-pleasure registered.
Holding firm behind its line-across;
its bordered entry upon returning from itself.
Of the safe-side of ideas:
happy as ready,
ready as happy to avoid?
The trust is too to be had issued in payments
of raisins.
Crawling in the attention for reason.
The mad-rush in looking.
My physical aching powerful
spirituality-sense needs to be protected.
A new character taking in the moisture without
its strangling.
Just to know I heard the raging sound of a mountain
that burns,
a string of puppets.
Though nothing will provoke me.
My hunger I notice its smell.
To unplant the seeds of predictability in every
mistake you put through in not-error.

My entire force of nature in view, an ocean's breeze,
in the universe unknown.

The weight of my tears, a burning rose,
the dragons smoke.

As I hold onto my heart filled with a second
chance-of-laughter.
The wordless action I cannot help but resist.
Brought to my feet first
of no selective memory or inner-conflict.
My Lady Luck in the fall of all values prepared in time.
In paradise the jury's-escape,
parody of my motivation, I share sparely.

In a potion

Breaking chains in the first sign of giving up a mile taking it all
held together.
With all such reason is to vehement in thought of its natural
occupation.
A man in the effort of his dreams of me;
complimenting quality?
I feel a paradise of freedom:
in nature's song not found but lost!
The tables have kept turning on its axis.
The tables have turned.
A feeling of similarity that perception.
The surprise narrator,
no play in myth said I,
I am the revival of it.
To the belief in myself.
The sky is an open window
beneath us.
I'm naturally inclined.
Watching the goose cooked.
Look to turn from the failed definition of a
competitive-inadequacy gone color blind.
The bump end grind of an investigated arrival.
Because of the way I think.
Because of the way I think
hasn't changed.
Because of how I think has changed.
Not in me as a person.
For you there is no invisible man.
The choice of such are fine spoken words in my actions.
In this room of great energy between us all in such my
methods.
No conflict of interest in my lighter
view of this.
Really nice intense rivalry
unadultrated-fun.
Thoughts of love not wasted for hate-of-fearing
or fear-of-hating.
Carefully withdrawn from neurosis
of the complication
or molded into temptation
scratching my forehead.
As I feel concealed,
I hear the pressure of giant thoughts running
over my head.
In the most discreet-sweet sense
of an urgency best described in the time between us.
Only love not if feared.
Only feared if not loved.
Am I.

Ding-a-ling Characterized

There is a distinct;
possibility of some natural selection
in process.
The nature of characterization:
you think?
The phantom menace or fait accompli:
take your pick!
My pride bleeding burning in my brain.
No suicidal hatred vile in vain.
My best mature course of action in it.
A matured xenophobia that nothing is improbable.
Without desperation or mental anguish.
Without anxiety of my temper punitive measures
against myself.
I am to be not punished,
yet permissible but honest.
With myself, only.
I've put myself "out-there" against
all of the odds.
Without putting myself 'out'.
Work, that I've made progress. . .
already.
Treating me as a flower.
That stem of competitive erected
stream of consciousness
from the root of all causes formed.
There is no word for not 'vanity'.
Fair is the lineage, value logic, and this
my theory of connotation defined.
I apply to the future, of its destiny for me.
Discreet and powerful
without withholding my confidence.
I experiment no inept incompetence that keeps
me aloof of wonderment.
Of a moral aptitude.
No immoral understanding thereof
this - my truth - this is.

Channeling changed symbols mixed
with a task blind of emotion.
Always pursuing the obvious,
accepting credit without it being given to me freely,
never without giving in.

The status of living is enjoyed thoroughly.
I am thrilled, because.
There are no protective barriers that put this smile on my face.
On the verticle of a horizon, blown seeding the fertile wind-broken
ground.

Cold Adventure Pirate

I saw what I'll take
while I can get it.
Taking it easy but I'll take it.
Well plotted out.
The stench of such little to do
with anxiety, fear, intimidation,
or manipulation as a punching bag
I catch then release of it.
Impractical if not enticing?
Practical if not;
intolerable!
Self-conscious: if not
misleading.
I fancy my double life.
Tell me more, but not after I kick you
out the door.
Sh-oo out my window.
This I cared of most in my dreams.
Superficial based due-dilligence
not baptism by fire.
Crooked having-it-your-way is an
example of my thought thoughts examined.
A stinky horses' bumb is cute and shifty while it
slowly giddy-up.
Incompetent timing for the perfect cause
of a congruent storm-in-angle.
The conscious in my eye.
I blink.
I occupy.
The narration of a talking voice
well kept in its harmonious-faith.
I've saved the assets of my benefited expert incentive.
Extra long walks in a field of Tulips ordained.

Candy Drinks

Glaring exiled detail.
Unrealistic revelation.
Hear what I say permits me.
Talent consumates another word
for no betrayal of sense in magic.
A future destiny of heightened
ambition in me.
Scary looking Penguins.
An awkward silence in humanity.
I make: exceeding the choice?
I am not a sad invalid in saving face;
infrequently the best expressed challenge
in compromise.
For every margain of error!
There is no non sense won over that reward
of discipline.
You must hurry to start from a poverty
and become of it taking your time in the effort.
The discipline of its reward.
There is no task to obsession.
Only to be reversed.
I reserve errors in judgment.

Maturing Bubbled Over

Singling out the time;
of what I thought a personal-kind?
I've given myself many options!
That nothing:
nothing is in fact improbable.
I am highly motivated by the fact,
the question is a cause for concern.
I cannot escape delirium,
with maturity,
my fire in the hole has unleashed.
This happy paranoia not a second too early.
An hour a minute the circus-ring of strangers.
No hope is lost.
Delirium.
An awareness deceiving ritual
where nothing is imporbable.
I did not say anything glad enough to see you.
Coward of maturity to survive.
My nature's delighted.
Dedicated-view in my wieght of learning.
This curfew of bullets that require energy.
My confusion not confounded.
I compound.
I try me on for size as an increasingly encouraging sign.

Natural Curiosity: Judgement of Momentary Relapsed - Sedation

I see one thing;
I see another.
Little for less I find myself to reason.
An angel must fly in a different
cast light of their-own-imagination.
The facing of my redemption not to be
handled inappropriately,
sombered then is sobriety.
Nothing that can tell me how
the dream has begun of not over.
Perhaps, when there was a time where only beasts
roamed the planet with only
their use of hands,
verbose in language too-crisp
for the tongue.
A unique character is crazy not to.
I will be better reminded.
In remembering it.
My meal-ticket out of my-heart in time
from the passion.
A burning sensation.
A fire of no pink flamed
excuses.
A desire for peanut-butter and raspberry jam
on toast.
Generosity will travel further, getting me
where I want to-go-far. (A need.)
So comical in relief.
The privilege of such memory
I indulge in it.
Worth my weight, here.
Worth my wait, there.

It was of no involuntary determined
unknown withdrawal.
Only there are parallels of ancient disguises.

All without the myth as an in between
in a heartbeat.

This to the - there's
mystery upon which I act upon.

With which there is mystery, of which,
I act upon entitlement.

To this: because there is mystery of entitlement
I act upon as anchor.

An entitlement as the anchor.
Upon which, I act.

The independence in thought
of some rarity in judgment but not irregular
as in fictional.

Do not be pathetic in your judgment.
Take the challenge in your passions.
Exhibit the change in pessimism
to the act of possession.

For the longest-time
I take a closer look
at something.

It is not for certain an unordinary
day as spectacular my display of hunger
in demonstrated-knowledge.

I shall recall of.
I can, be what it will whatever the subject-matter.
I honor the caveat - this my own conclave in which we've agreed.
Such rarity I conceal
my natured-well/good-judgment.

Taken in my palm-read hand.

My truth is worth a fortune-told
to me.

Recovered in belief of my own-doing.

The truth of my own-doing.

Much it is to act alike, in fact,
we are nothing.

Absorbed Down-out-under-it

My interior power generated by
my inhibition - not ulterior or inferior
in its parts.
Not superficial in its status
I fare well.
In time designed
sharing without
a doubt of it,
I am from,
is revealed because of me.
Strength requires hope not in
the error I chose of it.
Half the chance of a permanent
solution.
Living to dream rather unordinary
while I can.
Such a pity on what not to witness
the focus of what I mean
in my intent.
The virtue of impatience
all is said and done.
Lets keep in touch.
In sand.
Out front-and-center in my last
direction of time
the latest of arrival-final.
The force is far more incredible,
fantastic that I never neglected the fact.
Alone in bleach
satired stained attire.
I accomplish with nothing impressionable
or deviant in attitude left behind.
I contest to stare in reproach.
I have put a step to the ritual
of sublime observation
caught stuck in answering it.
Taking to the limitless
depth without drowning because of its nature
drawn within me.
How I choose is to respond,
sensitively-speaking.
This branded new sense of humor
I shall travel with the winds
weather-vain blowing.

In exchanged purging of an objective metaphor

Is it crazy not to want it - no proof
that acts as evidence of what you most
desire.
No valid misconcpetion.
Choppy-signals of the truth,
sounds for a sonic radio with
metaphor for my mind.
The eye of a sleeping dragon.
It ain't hidden, or crouched
beneath the surface.
A contaminated breath that released my skill
for intervention.
My bird is perched on the base
of a dead mocking-dodo's
cage.
The cave revealed itself to me in its
depth of a top-secret location.
The time I've taken in this tale of a
sombering self-justice.
I have built courage upon-unopened-edifice.
An edifice for laughter,
as my heart within wits end in satisfaction.
I garunteed it.
No irresbonsible mess
of the message for a bad day at work.
No unreasonable valient effort.
From top of the limits
- I am unlimited in
through my potential. -
I am super-sonic
the hero-of-will is not.
The power I operate on
inhibition.
The power I operate on.
The inhibition.
The inhibition I operate on.

Without false misconception that
I have trapped the light.

No reciept I've thrown out a
proof of purchase
for garbage.

Crouched in position

The tender footsteps
of rabbits. . .
as if you look over ones shoulder.
The scent of false
ideas.
Attitudes.
Ideology.
As I look back.
The tender footsteps
of rabbits,
I saved my last
breath.
As I lead the scent
of fear.
As I trumped the self-hate
within me.
I smell something fierce.
The fresh scent of rabbits.
I will not pretend to know I act
objectively.
Safety taken in precaution
of fire hazards.
My every location
for the-remedy.
I will not lose grip of my operating
signal.
I will not pretend to operate,
objectively.
You are not the same person
that others think you are.
You are the person you appear
to be.
Dedicated, kind,
and caring.
As personal I am.
Gentle, compassionate,
and daring.
I celebrate my mind.
My wheels set in motion.
As I lay back my head to rest,
such magical weight in thought.
The tenacity of a courage that has no myth.
I chill out on milk,
it adds as a security measure.
Drinking white stuff that comes
from inside an animal,
makes me think of what acts as
defense-mechanisms.
Smart little cows.
They make moo-moo sounds.

Big on Luck

With you
I rely on my sense
of spirit.
No - I am not superficial.
No - I am not to be patronized.
No - I am not subject to abuse.
Your move in a high-priced game of Chinese Checkers,
as I follow the expert with a smile on my face.
The architect
makes elusive-architecture.
Suddenly,
I realize
loneliness is not;
my requirement!
I've acquired tastes:
in making it logically diagrammed.
I put on something real,
I took off what I wore
because it made me act sloppy?
Pushing the envelope,
I'm over the top. -
I'm not inadequate,
- not in over my head.

High up on a mountain
where few can test my limits
surrounded in misfortune.
Missionary greed.

Fewer surrounded
the limits of fortune.
My pride I will not swallow.

I will not displace my plan
of action for contingency.
My plain of proper a category.
I will not displace my comfort.

It is a round-trip
in the air fare of
'comfort'.
My one-way ticket
"out-there".

I will not protest, nor shall I
contest its purity is my own in doing.

This immaculate
self-respect of an adulation.
J'adore aussi.
Myself, my adoration of it all.

I have only scored in streaks and send sparks
flying.

I get ahead as I do
in accepting who I am-not-to-get-ahead-of
-myself.
In the process. . . it is
no ordinary choice.
I originally choose to take care of myself
without fear or the guilt.

I am free in choosing what's best for me
as result of myself originally.

However convoluted it seems to be
I set from me to manage (whatever)
those limits are.
I am that original missing link - no ordinary
piece to the puzzle.
I will practice and participate in the assembly
as I keep putting my self-esteem
back together in its place.

Why, I've been exhausted.
How lovely the idea of desperation.

How tired of me, I, am I.
It is no premeditated vision.
Short-supply of a view
I can hold onto myself.

The True Romantic

Make expressed
how it feels?
Cream of the crop-circle!
You're dreaming.
No - I'm dreaming.
That of which dreamers
are made to wear.
Such is the subject-matter.
Caught myself in a land-slide.
I believe in the uphoria of it.
A dream-life state, thought I experienced
such matter-of-fact. . . happiness less than imaginable.
A last gasp
at the breath-of-life
worth living.
I could not resist
the escaping-protest.
Economically sound am I not
to be introduced as entitled.
In my wildest fears I imagine happiness
as I only dreamed of it.
Uncontested, perfect in thought.
All on the pretense of being well-liked enough.
That need of a burning desire for it from within.
The hot-commodity machine stalls,
the sensation of bank-notes $.
Bragging of my fingernails as I cut and trim.

It was the who protested that I patronized

I project all of my assets into one.
Not to act as slaves to each other;
but to clean up one another's act!
Impersonating power of the-one?
My mom and dad are down to earth,
kind and caring, not second-class citizens.
They are my voice of virtue.
I protect my investment.
Militant behavior:
ideology / image / consciousness-collective.
Latin Lover is to an army.
Amazing yet so powerful in thought
I gracefully decided.
I chose to be a part of something
no bigger than I
am it to me.
Such humoristic hypothesis
of a hypocrites domain.
The happier I squint down double-standards.
I do not pretend to be something I am not.
Without the opportunists veil,
pale in comparison to mocking-birds.