Presense Sense

Polysyndeton Exercise




PRESENT SENSE




And the presence of your absence is everywhere

But not for nothing

And "what good is the past if it doesn't let you pass"




And every stream of tears leaves a trail

But even days are long and not enough

And my only wish is trust to see you again




And to all the times I accused by speaking too soon

But it was me not for you

And that much I certainly know




And in all the dark nights I was alone

But you still always made it home

And that one time you surprised me...well




And I won't get into that

But I do want to know

And I am sure you can tell




And I am trying not to cry

But you know me all too well

And is a word joining this to that




But when I think about you

And us it's more than just that

But always remember this




"Feeling is what falling in love feels like"




And I will be home to you again one day

But I have to see my path through too

And no matter the here and now also still recall




"What good is the past if it won't let you pass"




By Tracey Buster

5/20/26

I swallowed my face
...which had no taste
it was Bikini Atoll
it did create a wind
so I choked and stalled

I sunk into my waist
...and turned to paste
and no one was enthralled
it was ugly to watch
sangre con fuego mal

My bones are displaced
...I am erased






Patrick Darnell

Krogar and Klaus, and the House Mouse Mystery

Hunkered down, very un-calm,
Side by side, just before dawn,
Cat by Cat, confide, but stir little

“Where’s that.. WHAT’S IT?”
Growl tooth’ed jaws with spittle

Whiskers a’ twitch, ‘n tails a’ switch,
Two cats, grouse, protest, and grit

“How shall we get at that.. WHAT’S IT?”

Upon the fireplace screen, out come claws,
Topsy-turvy cats crash into brick walls
Topple andirons, ashes, and kindling--
Crazed cats, Krogar and Klaus, go a’ spindling
Leap from hearth askew and a’ yaw,

“There, ..No there!!!!!” confused Cats babble. Agile kitties flip, twist then scrabble,
In the dark hall, brave kitties fall,
Land gracefully upon padded paws.

That's the fastest house mouse either ever saw.

WHAT’S IT jumps from mantle
circles the whole room,
Finds a dark shadow just behind a broom
Waits there while cats’ re-group

"WHAT'S IT?" Krogar stopping to groom--
he leaps on the table, and knocks off the fruit;
Banana, pear, apple, orange meteors fall

So, WHAT’S IT under couch crawls
the chase, Cats resume, into guest bedroom
In a flash the guest bed is disheveled
when zoom, as two cats assault is made -- WHAT’S IT flies up to safety of a dark lampshade

WHAT’S IT hangs upside down, unabash’ed,
Pausing to see kitties’ looks of bad luck that day
Licking their paws, their last trick is played

“WHAT’S IT can fly,” Krogar to Klaus, says in dismay
And with the dawn, the light inter-plays.

Up to the shadowy attic, in a graceful jet,
Flies WHAT’S IT easier
without even a silent shiver
Through the eaves, spies the Cats now so upset,
...can’t even digest their liver

Today, though, there are no regrets:
Krogar and Klaus tell their neighboring pets,
“You may visit our house, with behavior best;
“Pleeze, Do not disturb our house mouse guest: “He is a “‘WHAT’S IT’, "The most unusual, honored, flying houseguest” A poem written for me and first daughter Panther Paws circa 1983; by Robert “Bob” Parker, of Halifax, Massachusetts, Unfortunately, he has passed away. He lived his retirement years on Monpossett Pond in a little converted boathouse, that he shared with several animals, pets and otherwise. Bob would wake up early before his wife, stoke the wood burning stove, in the morning before dawn, and type on his Corona manual, and this is one he chronicled pre-dawn. Thanks Bob, PD



Patrick Darnell

Tuft of thundercloud trailing anvil head,
For a moment dove eating crumb of bread
From bronze rail before flight
With point on horizon to sight
Full wind, full rudder churns freshwater white.

Out to quiet sailing had set we
With jib and full sail cast
As have sturdy fellows past.

I could hear almost the Old Salt
From his boat in briny harbor forgot
Talking as frapped his rope
'... Bloody Lake Mich, choppy old moat,
'... Choppy when the wind blows,
'... Meaner'n a blistered nanny goat.'

Leaning with gaunt arm bare
Upon bronze gunwale, pushing aside thick hair,
Squinting ignobly in bright sun-glare
With meaty fingers tugs at pipe there
Aboard chapped lips points to east horizon
Of inland mare, fashions scowl for his next quip
As great barrier of clouds form at fast clip

'... Tha' water my life did I impart,
'... Not much left for Almighty God to sort.'

Flipping pocket flap open like a hatch
Wriggling fingers while digging for a match
To strike against all that scratch
Of a standard jaw, put he then pipe to pucker,
Match to pipe bowl, sucked he flame to tobacco;

Returning to his task murmuring just audible
Pipe clenched tightly in teeth and jaw
Spatted he to indicate his final card
Whispering as puckers he a humid draw:

'... Wha'cha gonna do ... Wha's one to do ...
'... Wha' character does she reflect when tide low
'... How can tide pool stand for long
'... in ancient thirsty sand?'

Calm smile now on his face in half shadow ...

'... To where my life depart; to live a mariner
'... For what did I impart these hands?'

I remember sail cloth masted, trimmed taut
To gather wind for friends at steady knot
A chance to depart on lake large as a sea
And to cross horizon in time eternity
With promise for life, love and for loss.

by Pat Darnell

http://moopigwisdom.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-remember-sail-cloth-masted-trimmed.html

Football

I had a moment of triumph
Like a hungry pelican
Sitting on a post...
Spotted millionaires
Dismantling society
Swooped, so I could scoop
And fumbled
The racialist's football...



Patrick Darnell

What is Mother?

12:30 PM Greeting by Reverend Byron Miller
12:35 PM Psalm 121 by Rev Miller
12:40 PM Lord's Prayer by Assembled in Unison
12:45 PM Eulogy for Mom by Patrick Darnell
12:50 PM Reflections -- by Hunter Paniagua -- by David Darnell -- by Bernadine Foster
1:00 PM Sermonette by Rev Miller
1:10 PM Closing Prayer

In Loving Memory

Jerre Jean Hynds Darnell

Born

December 3, 1926

Entered into rest

April 19, 2013

Houston, Texas

Celebration of Life Services

The Chapel of SouthPark Funeral Home

12:30 PM

April 24, 2013

Officiating 

Reverend Byron Miller

* * * 

A Eulogy for Mom

Some of you know Jerre Jean Hynds Darnell as your coworker. Others know her as your party planner. Some know her as their dance partner. The board of Directors knew her as that fastidious worker. You might have caught her style as she walked the runway at the Country Place style show. Maybe you see her in her yard. You might see her praying with her church circle. Many know her as your top secret confidante. Many, many know her as that ravishing beauty. I don't often use the word ravishing, but in Mom's case she is.

But you see, Jerre Jean Hynds Darnell is my Mother!

She bore me, she named me with her heart of hearts husband, and she raised me.

My brother and sisters know of what I speak.

Most important to me is that Mom always speaks the truth. Jerre Darnell always tells the truth. That is her way. The truth isn't always the most popular thing we want to hear. Sometimes when she said those truths, it would make me want to run and hide. And she always stuck to her guns. If you fidgeted, she tells you to sit tight. If you tried to pull her away from her important task, she tells you to hold your horses.

When conversations become nonsensical, Mom relies on her maternal wisdom. Her truth statements have become pearls in her children's, grandchildren's, and great-grandchildren's lives. Mom's wisdom, you see, comes back to her.

Mom and her steadfast friend, Robert, are blessed with long lives, 67 years of which they have been husband and wife.

What is Mother --

what is Mother,
without her house
and her child?

Her babies
are born and grown
in her domicile

Many houses
Mom has known
Many seeds she has sown,

Where she settled
she made it her own.

As years gathered numbers
some ideals are put to rest
her children, now with children,
are wiser, never alone, at best,
for Mother journeys with us ...

See all their bright little faces
Hear their falsetto voices,
... full of trust, truth, and whim,
Creating such a din.

Thank you all for coming.

Patrick Darnell

Truncated History of future Moon Base “New Australia” 2108

Goat Heads of the Mists  Out of the mists Ascend goats Toppling cairns Riding magma moat Of conformation And advent Amid new Tibetan craters Stiffened n’ arched spines Hoofed charger, ramming speed Radiant goat heads butting, butting Sure-foot woolen beast Carved in stone Circumstance and path Origins of goat alphabet Goateed alphabet of rut In New Australia 2108 The Hitchhiker Turning the tables Always led to Increase in hitchhiking Why? Due to turn-about Is still fair-play Canyon freckled Creation reckoned Space time beckoned Journey on spinning spheres Litany of courage Frailty of flash Hounded, lest forgotten Satan shackled at last Creation ending Creation unfolding Only restart of something Rewind and fast forward Woolly barber intending well shearer Lamb of God Reckoned beaker Promise perfect Garden lair and Rams’ pairs Creation of mist Ram heads in the air Sun not up yet In dawn haze She is there; She is there Horned owl, winged lion Catching frog eyes To swallow Drops down Plucks them From grassy hideaways Fills her gullet Sharp her eyes Sharper talons Her direct flight Efficient and fruitful Sends chills down A morning spine Rabbits run across lupines on Grandmother’s grave stop abrupt, give vigil gaze ...above in predawn predation haze First light; she splinters off To her loftier nest full of Owlets, hungry For rat, frog and fish -- Life evident birth Burdened with Myth Owl knows well that night is Living history of moon light Lunar specter as light reflector Like an hour of darkness laser Moon has been burdened As accurate metaphor for Satan Masquerading as source of light But really only reflecting some True light down on paths Of those living in darkness -- Truth eclipses comparison but Satan was shackled by the Son Explorer Pygmy rock bounder Horned errant As mists lifts Burning away Stratified Immersed Pledged woolly robed visitor In secrets earnest To charge enemies who Advance in truest form Train eyes sternest Cry: "Forward -- “No retreat” Woes freighted As traumas converge Valor splendid On shoulders In morning mists As moon and sun Set and rise

with moon wind between ram heads Filling sky Barely above mists Eye on eye Brains of rams and goat heads of the mists leaping in sixth sense high flying in gravity sixth The Naked Stalk Mote, threshed loosed chaff Dry grass, sodder Stalks of grain, straw, Stubble of Naked husk To settle forth Vapors Chaff Lecherous she-things seem to steam out of walls, and seams And even from books Acting on treachery Everywhere -- Even from her regard In possession of she-brain She-goat Elizabeth Mourns the mist ‘Must we wake to mist? Every morn?’ She asks Brother Charles And Freddie Fodder Self interestHeightened senses, much like, Reality is no reality... surrounded by gravity So must pass through Deaf, dumb processing Go they, so, virtually Real, eh... And that’s not all There is self service It is complicated, much like, "Who said we should clip wings "And tag bears "And skin leopards ?" Some curse of dust moon settlers continue to live under Proceeding with others’ wishes Like once was said -- It is complicated Much like Freemasonry, and cults of fertility How else could well meaning descendant's' of Baal find redeeming lives than by staging robust migrate to Lunar Base 2108? Too many replications Destroy antidotes No one will baby sit Like billy goats No being does-- No caste has gone this remote New Australia A goat kissed the mist Her name is D V Dram, She was looking for 2020 exhibits on Main At Chevy Chase Ray in New Cairo, Siam She did a quick search On her Bic.surgeX To match the beast At her feet, on its leash With something Recognizable of late In her "Lunar Navigator Correlative plates" As missionary to moon Her mission had been Preach -- teach -- reach But how If she could not even Understand The primal screech or errant bray Of a flawed speech How D V Dram Worried for her kind The boulevard Was vacated at this time But a large building Was teeming With fellow goat-herds seeming To cajole and work So there she commenced To investigate the edifice where The sign read "New Australia Public Works and Metal Bending Relics and Attributes Division" Loud equipment Being run by Even louder natives Conveyors fed presses Up and down went machines Banging thunderously Into their bases Where from afterward Bent metal shot out Onto belts and rollers To where sparks flew As parts got welded D V Dram’s wrist vibrated To show her the implicated Match to her query of late "It is a Dog-Cat,somewhat matriculated" "Thanks, SurgeX, return to steady state.." Ecosystem Evidence What truly is Remarkable There is an entire ecosystem Living collective, in and under The "Public Works and Metal Bending Relics and Attributes Division" Factory floor of Moon marble where giant plants have rooted growing great leaves fluted Covering large stipules Sticking out and being Cross fertilized By hummingbird spicules Actually clones of hover Drop tiny substance On the flat leaves where Large slugs scoot along stems and roots slurping up droppings and algae peanut shells, and grimy Nicotine scale -- while Winged butterflies follow Their sluggish friends And poke in turn in the dust on pollen laden heads Of hummingbird's Circles of oily fungi Form in the slug slime Growing into mushrooms Of lunar kind Microscopic inspection Would doubtless reveal An entire sub-visible thrill Of thistle and seed Typical of nature's industry Of outback flotsam and debris Underway now for a century UBILAM Just so we are all up to speed -- On the same page, Concerning chaos of age -- Noting its all the rage online with settlers of "New Australia Lunar" Stage Is not a gate of heaven by any sage... Goats had hitchhiked To lunar surface early And Goat DNA had Entered the "Errol Morris Clone Factory" accidentally And today was Day of the Dead On Ubilam Beach, where their leader calls out namesof passed away beloved "Bedlam, Balaam, Belem, Balsam "Bart rap, Bangles and Bartech --" Called Bursar the Human Zy Goat Calling out names of his dead And departed relatives The new races Of New Australia Were exceptionally strict Well-measured and manicured Almost Draconian ticked They established a cemetery for pets And a thin blue line For security They held festivals regularly Such as: Misters of Death Like today, and Fogs of War, And, Mists of Plutonium Or, Holographic Holocaust horror Also, was a day of Locusts and The Squid and the Whale And the naming by Bursar stopped... Even now As new Goat Herds Trippingly Pronk And roust Bounding in the kettle moraine Of lunar surface One of best times in their Golden era was 7 x 6 Lunar cycles of childhoods pre-Time when pupae Out-birthed as humanoids Into conditions favorable And not toxin to clones Mixed with mountain stock Of venerable RAM’s analog As factors allow Childhoods to reach fruition In accordance of some singularity Known as pre-bang mechanics Abiding no longer Just as a mental construct But as a mistake of science Achieving furtherance Through moderate living attribute Of environmental factors and With pollutants in abate Meeting effectively all appraisal For lunar base New Australia 2108 by Patrick Darnell, 05.31.2008 ______________________________Reference Some Links: Goat Heads of the Mists gets my goat Richard Berry – Friday, February 08, 08 http://timea.rice.edu/index.html Cairo PHOTOS Please visit the Mystery Topic Challenge Blog to view all of the other entries. Once you've read them all, please be sure to vote HERE for your favorite. Or click on these to read from here: Mr. President Some Go Softly

Recently I found a news clip and article on NASA gearing up for a new moon mission. This time it’s hoping to build a lunar city. Right now it’s mainly for scientific purposes, but years from now, who knows? If anyone’s interested, you can find the news clip and article here: http://sunnydreamer.net/aprjun2008/lunar_cities.shtml : http://sunnydreamer.net/ It’s 100 years later, after NASA’s inital lunar city mission. People have started to colonize the moon. You are among the colonists. Write about your reasons for leaving Earth, why you like or hate living on the moon, and any adventures you had the first month you moved there. If that’s a lot, you can just focus on a part of this challenge; that’s all right too.

doodlebug has sent you a link to a blog: daddy, i loved your writing :) the photos were trippy as well Blog: MooPig Wisdom Post: MTC 12 "Unsettling Settlers" Link: http://moopigwisdom.blogspot.com/2008/05/mtc-12.html http://lunar.gsfc.nasa.gov/moonfacts.html

Mom

It's how we slip away
Little did we know
That you would one day
... leave us here alone

You were the most beautiful
we had ever seen
life was merciful
... you left no un-turned stone


Patrick Darnell

Sleeper Movie Review

Imagine our future
as seen in this Woody Allen suture
Apes don't read philosophy
so each one could be out for one's self ...
... , our future was sunny
Maybe back when,
Woody Allen was funny.
by Pat Darnell

It was late one early night
we were watching "Sleeper" on the tube--
you know, with Keaton and her Silly putty nose ...
She claims two positions and trends:
... 'Sex' and 'Death' as harbingers --
presage to what will become --
but as those two ideas intend ...
... already have been done, ... yes, dead ringers,
That,
When it comes to an end ... we wish it to go on.

Elm Street is much changed
Robots like HAL, the avenues roam,
getting confused at crossroads
just like humans getting hanged --
like Jurors' contrasting impressions,
Ambivalent as Nietzsche tomes ...
... adverse to change in direction,
... static as gnomes

By the way;
Sleeper never sleeps and,
whatever he eats, he slips on --
like it cannot be real,
because peels and rinds remain behind ...
with giant chicken,
which prompts the plot to thicken
and creates apprehension ...
... about His POD left around to satisfy
His pons ... Woe is me ...

Di's and Wood's very funny troubles
often bring out their stunt doubles --
like His new robot dog pet, Tricky-woo,
when Sleeper gets his brain rubbed out
-- Puppy is a true sport too ...
as its command is his master's wishes ...
... makes one question about:
'Say, what about the fishes?'

We wonder why
She disbelieves He;
... because later He disbelieves She;
all because 'Big Brother ...
... redesigns their pedigrees;
so that two equals three --
'Till the end we are a'swirl,
but thankfully, in final scene ...
da' Boy kisses da' Girl.

[pd\Bryan TX\04.16.2010]
Patrick Darnell

I have become
All things unattractive
where once a jaw
Now a roll
Where once a crouch
Now a pouch
Where once a leap
Now a creep
Lonely as a lighthouse keeper --
Third generation keeper that is --
Perturbed at day and
night fretting against lifestyle I inherit
Witness many shipwrecks
On stones of sand and rocks
Hidden midst panes
of light and ‘midst uncertain sea life
Where once sea froze
Was it safe to walk under
Relying might we with what we chose
to use boots as boats
Frozen toe
and guts Alone
as a wind gust
Nature christened "Bad Temperament" safe
to christen also Other souls
letting go
Bodies mashed 'tween wall
Of water and toe of tower warnings
turn in bearings to signal friendlies journeys
Friendlier and friendliest peers
Neighbors look into vapors
stare at sea wave bombs --
Some frightened; some remain calm --
And ask ‘What can we do?’
We built a pier
To tie me froze boat
We sank down below water line
And towed
pulling lines in towed more
Till we froze
and float
Yet yonder,
at tide line
Dry patches pavement
Scant puddles
left Like toed nails
appointment
Against climates addled temperament
On piers lay soldiers’ wives
at shore children’s wails
Crying, bereft against torrents of ignoble swales
Uncertain rigors prevents
Eternal pathos to prevail though
abundant trouble
To die, turn up one’s toes
A chap should be what he can do!
And not as he's told.

PD / 24 Jan 06

Warrantless Wiretapping Is So Passe :: MAY 6, 2013

Those bed bugs
 might be wired bugs
 voices you hear
 might be exceedingly queer

But the sham
 in the Sam I am
 is these bugs
 cannot be fumigated

And poor old Obama
 with his bipolar drama
 just wants to avoid
 being assassinated …

So, join up Nation
 listen to your papa
 and in your pie hole
 we’ll put a stopper!

*[another warrantless impromptu poem generator of a post, Pribek]*

Patrick Darnell

Reference
http://pribek.net/2013/05/06/warrantless-wiretapping-is-so-passe/comment-page-1/#comment-30770

Truncated History of future Moon Base “New Australia” 2108

Goat Heads of the Mists 
Out of the mists
Ascend goats
Toppling cairns
Riding magma moat
Of conformation
And advent

Amid new Tibetan craters
Stiffened n’ arched spines
Hoofed charger,
ramming speed
Radiant goat
heads butting, butting
Sure-foot woolen beast
Carved in stone
Circumstance and path
Origins of goat alphabet
Goateed alphabet of rut
In New Australia 2108

The Hitchhiker
Turning the tables
Always led to
Increase in hitchhiking
Why?
Due to turn-about
Is still fair-play

Canyon freckled
Creation reckoned
Space time beckoned
Journey on spinning spheres

Litany of courage
Frailty of flash
Hounded, lest forgotten
Satan shackled
at last

Creation ending
Creation unfolding
Only restart of something
Rewind and fast forward

Woolly barber
intending well shearer
Lamb of God
Reckoned beaker
Promise perfect

Garden lair
and Rams’ pairs
Creation of mist
Ram heads in the air


Sun not up yet
In dawn haze
She is there; She is there
Horned owl, winged lion
Catching frog eyes
To swallow

Drops down
Plucks them
From grassy hideaways
Fills her gullet

Sharp her eyes
Sharper talons
Her direct flight
Efficient and fruitful
Sends chills down
A morning spine

Rabbits run across lupines
on Grandmother’s grave
stop abrupt, give vigil gaze

...above in predawn predation haze
First light; she splinters off
To her loftier nest
full of Owlets, hungry
For rat, frog and fish

-- Life evident

birth Burdened with Myth
Owl knows well that night
is Living history of moon light
Lunar specter as light reflector
Like an hour of darkness laser

Moon has been burdened
As accurate metaphor for Satan
Masquerading as source of light
But really only reflecting
some True light down on paths
Of those living in darkness --
Truth eclipses comparison
but Satan was shackled
by the Son

Explorer
Pygmy rock bounder
Horned errant
As mists lifts
Burning away
Stratified
Immersed
Pledged woolly robed visitor
In secrets earnest

To charge enemies who
Advance in truest form
Train eyes sternest
Cry: "Forward --
“No retreat”

Woes freighted
As traumas converge
Valor splendid
On shoulders
In morning mists
As moon and sun
Set and rise

with moon wind between

ram heads
Filling sky
Barely above mists
Eye on eye
Brains of rams
and goat heads of the mists
leaping in sixth sense
high flying in gravity sixth

The Naked Stalk
Mote, threshed loosed
chaff
Dry grass,
sodder
Stalks of grain, straw,
Stubble of
Naked husk
To settle forth
Vapors
Chaff

Lecherous she-things
seem to steam out
of walls, and seams
And even from books

Acting on treachery
Everywhere --
Even from her regard
In possession of she-brain

She-goat Elizabeth
Mourns the mist
‘Must we wake to mist?
Every morn?’
She asks Brother Charles
And Freddie Fodder

Self interestHeightened senses, much like,
Reality is no reality...
surrounded by gravity
So must pass through
Deaf, dumb processing
Go they, so, virtually
Real, eh...
And that’s not all

There is self service
It is complicated, much like,
"Who said we should clip wings
"And tag bears
"And skin leopards ?"

Some curse of dust
moon settlers continue to live under
Proceeding with others’ wishes
Like once was said --
It is complicatedMuch like Freemasonry,

and cults of fertility

How else could

well meaning descendant's'

of Baal find redeeming lives

than by staging robust migrate

to Lunar Base 2108?

Too many replications
Destroy antidotes
No one will baby sit
Like billy goats
No being does--
No caste has
gone this remote

New Australia
A goat kissed the mist
Her name is D V Dram,
She was looking for
2020 exhibits on Main
At Chevy Chase Ray
in New Cairo, Siam

She did a quick search
On her Bic.surgeX
To match the beast
At her feet, on its leash
With something
Recognizable of late
In her "Lunar Navigator
Correlative plates"

As missionary to moon
Her mission had been
Preach -- teach -- reach
But how
If she could not even
Understand
The primal screech
or errant bray
Of a flawed speech

How D V Dram
Worried for her kind
The boulevard
Was vacated at this time
But a large building
Was teeming
With fellow goat-herds seeming
To cajole and work
So there she commenced
To investigate the edifice where
The sign read "New Australia
Public Works and Metal Bending
Relics and Attributes Division"

Loud equipment
Being run by
Even louder natives
Conveyors fed presses
Up and down went machines
Banging thunderously
Into their bases 
Where from afterward
Bent metal shot out
Onto belts and rollers
To where sparks flew
As parts got welded

D V Dram’s wrist vibrated
To show her the implicated
Match to her query of late
"It is a Dog-Cat,somewhat matriculated"
"Thanks, SurgeX, return to steady state.."

Ecosystem Evidence
What truly is Remarkable
There is an entire ecosystem
Living collective, in and under
The "Public Works and Metal Bending
Relics and Attributes Division"
Factory floor
of Moon marble

where giant plants have rooted
growing great leaves fluted
Covering large stipules
Sticking out and being
Cross fertilized
By hummingbird spicules

Actually clones of hover
Drop tiny substance
On the flat leaves where
Large slugs scoot
along stems and roots
slurping up
droppings and algae
peanut shells, and grimy
Nicotine scale -- while

Winged butterflies follow
Their sluggish friends
And poke in turn
in the dust
on pollen laden heads
Of hummingbird's

Circles of oily fungi
Form in the slug slime
Growing into mushrooms
Of lunar kind

Microscopic inspection
Would doubtless reveal
An entire sub-visible thrill
Of thistle and seed
Typical of nature's industry
Of outback flotsam and debris
Underway now for a century

UBILAM
Just so we are all
up to speed --
On the same page,
Concerning chaos of age --
Noting its all the rage online
with settlers of

"New Australia Lunar" Stage
Is not a gate of heaven
by any sage...

Goats had hitchhiked
To lunar surface early
And Goat DNA had
Entered the "Errol Morris
Clone Factory" accidentally

And today was Day of the Dead
On Ubilam Beach, where

their leader calls out namesof passed away beloved

"Bedlam, Balaam, Belem, Balsam
"Bart rap, Bangles and Bartech --"
Called Bursar the Human Zy Goat
Calling out names of his dead
And departed relatives

The new races
Of New Australia
Were exceptionally strict
Well-measured and manicured
Almost Draconian ticked

They established a cemetery for pets
And a thin blue line
For security

They held festivals regularly
Such as: Misters of Death
Like today, and Fogs of War,
And, Mists of Plutonium
Or, Holographic Holocaust horror

Also, was a day of Locusts
and The Squid and the Whale

And the naming by Bursar stopped...

Even now
As new Goat Herds
Trippingly Pronk
And roust
Bounding in the kettle moraine
Of lunar surface

One of best times in their
Golden era was 7 x 6
Lunar cycles of childhoods
pre-Time when pupae
Out-birthed as humanoids
Into conditions favorable
And not toxin to clones
Mixed with mountain stock
Of venerable RAM’s analog

As factors allow
Childhoods to reach fruition
In accordance of some singularity
Known as pre-bang mechanics

Abiding no longer
Just as a mental construct
But as a mistake of science
Achieving furtherance

Through moderate living attribute
Of environmental factors and

With pollutants in abate
Meeting effectively all appraisal
For lunar base New Australia 2108

by Patrick Darnell, 05.31.2008

______________________________Reference
Some Links:
Goat Heads of the Mists gets my goat Richard Berry – Friday, February 08, 08
http://timea.rice.edu/index.html Cairo PHOTOS

Please visit the Mystery Topic Challenge Blog to view all of the other entries. Once you've read them all, please be sure to vote HERE for your favorite. Or click on these to read from here:
Mr. President
Some Go Softly

Recently I found a news clip and article on NASA gearing up for a new moon mission. This time it’s hoping to build a lunar city. Right now it’s mainly for scientific purposes, but years from now, who knows? If anyone’s interested, you can find the news clip and article here:
http://sunnydreamer.net/aprjun2008/lunar_cities.shtml : http://sunnydreamer.net/
It’s 100 years later, after NASA’s inital lunar city mission. People have started to colonize the moon. You are among the colonists. Write about your reasons for leaving Earth, why you like or hate living on the moon, and any adventures you had the first month you moved there. If that’s a lot, you can just focus on a part of this challenge; that’s all right too.

doodlebug has sent you a link to a blog: daddy, i loved your writing :) the photos were trippy as well Blog: MooPig Wisdom Post: MTC 12 "Unsettling Settlers" Link: http://moopigwisdom.blogspot.com/2008/05/mtc-12.html

http://lunar.gsfc.nasa.gov/moonfacts.html

Patrick Darnell

Contrasts

Sometimes I completely love my family
Other times it is like the landing of Normandy ...
... That is not all.

Much of the time between
I am suffering along with them all
... in the empathy way.

My brothers and sisters annoy me
and to their mind I am a pain
... that is normal

But then one of them
tells me a dream he had
... and it is lazik

Without family we toil
but with family we boil
... we are each's foil.



Patrick Darnell

Ode to Trudeau

by Pat Darnell

Kevin Trudeau makes claims
says "I am your main man" ...
Flim-flam man on TV shows
-- could sell lip gloss
to a chicken --
-- a thermidor
to a lobster --
-- a pair of large claws
to nude PETA czars --
because what Kev says, goes...

Goes where we do not know
... it seems, to MonteNegro ...
Kevin Trudeau alerts his skein
-- Send $12.95 USA, or,
$22.95 Canadian --
when you buy his plan,
The only truth though,
Kev's a Robot, not a man

Live forever Monsignore of Claims,
TV Pope of rock roll back slidin' games
-- try your luck with bagels
or Electro-magnetic draedals --
saturate hours, 2000 a year
to boast of powers, to bend our ear

Great move when you offer despair,
and get demised Tammy Faye on air,
-- tell her you found a way
to bring her back to play
as Side-kick to your babbling faker
who very much resembles Jim Bakker


Friday, October 02, 2009
Patrick Darnell

On the eleventh day of wisdom
my true love gave to me
one plus ten
mercedes benz
my friends I know
all got Porch'es
i guess we're
on the mends

Jesus din't hang
with Pharisees, no, no
he hung with people,
folks like you and me

folks at weddings
and fondue dinners
and toasts with Guiness
and roasts with goats
and all night benders
sweet scented candles
and midnight rambles

and He prayed judicious --
don't you think me ridiculous
did' 'cha think me a wee bit raw
Jesus ... he's the man by yards,
Jesus ... with me very own Paw
would've played friendly cards --
Then skate up Tony Hawks,
hang a 720 ... while TEXTING large...
Hanging ten, making us fishers of men

eleven is that number
that begs one more for twelve
but Porsche, Benz, and a bumper
of course of Chevrolet's
just fine for elevens
no more will i crave...

Jesus is three out'ta one
and sure e'nuff din't hang
with no Pharisee, none a'non
don' be you dawdling
While He the Lord Jesus Christ in swaddling,
is hanging with Sanford and Son



Patrick Darnell 12-23-2009

I Cannot Sleep

Can't sleep?
I know that anxiety,
sweat on the pillow,
crick in the neck ...

I know I am not a kind man
I don't do little dances
to make children giggle ...

I am a mimic
a fraud, case of nerves,
fearful to be left alone,

Carried issues around
like toadstools
issues that I get to later...
maybe.

It hasn't been fun ...
Nope.
When do I wake up?
Which expert do I call?
I am not a beautiful man,
I cannot sleep.



Patrick Darnell

Impromptu Limericks from Life

""Anyone who watches it and is so much succumbed to it they are almost hypnotised and seduced by Rugby League!""


That needs a Limerick:

There was a young Muslim from Bekk,
Whose life was a total wreck,
He saw a game of rugby,
The winners brought the bubbly,
So gaunt Muslim from his habit did trek...



Patrick Darnell

Even though there are 2000 Books and Films

The nation pays for chronic double mistrust
Confidence in government has declined
Participation in voting has gone down
National appetite encourages peddlerism
Evil is never easy to accept...
... Let it go ...
Time to accept the conclusion
There is no evidence to contradict
... the establishment.



Patrick Darnell

Fallacies

Fallacious
Argument
Lacking
Logic
Associated to
Closeted
Informality
Exploiting
Syllogisms



Patrick Darnell

Offering False Reasons

Forty fallacies
do I count
for these claims
you make...

Your innuendo
masquerades
like a hyperbole
I can see the weasler
in its incredulity.

Reasons good or bad
the meeting falls short
your pseudo-reasoning
begs no further retort.

Behind your apple polishing
is a red herring
smelling to high heaven
and truth deterring...

Give me reasons
to discuss good and greed
and I will soon forget
your bad seed.



Patrick Darnell