Speak Easy

It has been a while since this seat has been taken close to its place. The comeback may not be as pleasant to itself in its surroundings as suspected. It is a surrounding. Vibrations through headphones. Symphonies sitting in sound where vibrations in the air as the pressure created through the waves hit against moving objects brings us back to life.

Give me peace, here.

God.

The desirable desperation for more than a hope and a dream lingers between moments where ill-promised conformity is what is lived. Give me a miracle instead. The same blessings to be lived that find breath in every second of every minute that passes by in the hour to meet a day in what is twenty-four numerically sound. What is the dollar?

“Why?”

“Is it bad?”

Type to think this time through. ‘What is it that I need?’ Slow down. Think. ‘Where am I? Did I come too far?’

Spaces by distance in displacement fears. It’s a thing, but to be exactly as there is existence. It is a thing. Formalities in ties. Thanksgiving. Necessities in the need. America is a speech. Living expressions; these videos. Volumes in an encyclopedia where the brain had to pick itself again. There was a collection, beautiful they read. There on the shelf. Sat with a family in peace. Taught is peace. Taught is patience. Taught is safe obedience. Free. Again. Free. Free, please.

God.

But- ...wait. There’s more. Pieces to the self found in these respects. Pieces of Me – Ashley while Aaliyah sound in lyrics beyond, but with her voice.

“It won’t stop.”

“Who do you think you’re speaking to this way?” - that is as it is. Understand this. The tire that comes with follow-through. Again and again. Angel said as “Ahn-hell.” Hear, through every woman. A stand. One will take that stand. Is it heard? It will not be repeated. These crimes will find atonement. ‘God.’ He is calling those to the stand. And guidance will find you. The actual Shepherd. There is a church, The Church of the Good Shepherd. Listen this time. It is a time to speak. Testimony finds the “pue.” How dare the churches take voice, pain, strife, and suffering, and put it to a dollar. What is the money thrown in the face one more time telling all that biblical text spit in the face with more than a look but judgment right in dead eyes across every man taking the last bit of patience left for a woman sitting idle in parking distances far enough to question motives is acceptable. The view is not the same from this end, especially when the right side of things with no question whether or not humanity falls to man is disregarded. This walk right past preachers to the podium where there is no place for geography to hold down a promise guides others to walk should have never taken them there in the first place finds its way. There were people lined up – shot in the head at the hand of his own countrymen. Marshall Law protects the rights undeserving any longer because the call answered was for the wrong person. Otherwise is to answer now. “Mr. Telephone’s” operator is no longer speaking English learned day by day in the land it responds to, but is it known?

- I got you. -

In the answer there is a right avenue directed by the number. The only “go-to” is not only at Dunkin Donuts giving that import luxury. There is a coming. Irony sets as there is more to the surface when others know coffee can be brewed at home in a maker purchased by an inventor. Home can be found; to thy self. ‘I am me.’ Done and finally living to the reality placed in settings by people who thought they were “The Puppet Master.” How many times can an answer finds its way no matter the messenger. How many levels to be assumed in its rejection. The magic number is an equation calculated left to the “deaf, dumb, and broken.” It is a nation to live by more than an affirmation “fuck up” in history. That much can be given; the honest truth.

The inquiry left to a request has found a voice in voices. So truth finds truth. It has been said. Addressed that much more than in text. It is a stutter stand with the “Latin King” - he is the Vatican’s approval icon. ‘The Pope himself, are you aware here? That which occurs here?’ Asking will not come around twice for a clear response to more than a question where direct, blunt – clear and concise sharp statements will tell what God intends this time. The Devil’s door finds no visitor. There was a people in so many lands that the use of a filler, more than enough times to give the illusion it is acceptable that a complex writing found bigotry has the ability to cut the bitching, finds way among silenced. The straight to the hip pick-up can only be reasoned in this day.

Honest truths. Where’s the “e” where dropped in judgment and found lurking somewhere missing too may confuse a shift in Linguistics. That was the first choice. The swing. The twist. Read it. Get it. Find. There’s a search deeper than a tick, tap – please, listen. There’s something better; more than a computer can but definitely does – human; there’s a need. It is encompassed. Onto the self.

Where answer to self in what thought found truth. The computerized generations that take a limition unknown. ‘What did we do?’ He knew. I Am Legend in a robot. These limitations find craze. These hard, defined confinements where there were no bars are the bars. There’s a click of a button where an intercom will tell what the order gave beyond lines and boundaries defined by “the man” means little. He is small now. Because he gave in to his own voice and spit back to himself the promises left outside of scores and years that do not belong in time beyond himself. The breakdown.

It is a little weird to listen to a man that thought prospects came from another, especially a woman. They did onto. Now, questions. ‘Did he?’ What is the story that was not get because there is a difference never to meet. At least that is what he thought. He will never know unless there is a take back. Unless there is a chance to speak. There is no bark here. Sound that gives less than the ability that separates the species where dominion can only reign in superiority is the same argument found in its inferiority complexities that tear at its aspects. It is a deeper argument turned debate because there is an apparent feel that the “fuckery” has lived its expiration.

Nothing but a size up on a chalk outline less used; there is a cone placed with warnings to numbers that gives trajectory they study where white lines say permission give only the story after fallen is found. Speaking a Lord’s prayer deeper than truth living on knees ain’t nothing but easy to the simple-minded. It can be confusing for women to present just as gone as man in this day and age.

Empowerment, it comes for the woman in strides before men. Maturity rings dings in our ears as if a dog’s whistle blew intuition right into our gut. Sensations that sit heavy without a movement for us comes heavier than any flush. It is a thing. Sayings given. The phrases that become… an affirmation. Really? That is what this is, gossip. Girl-

“Are they kidding?”

This is truly the operators dial pick-up conversation, “How are you,” my friend. This is laughter in text for the program that does not break into boxes that sits in a spread. Tick, tap the tap on the keyboard. They could not make the line filled with the step to sound when you heard the direction, but there was one enough times to answer the call. The whole house now.

Speak through phones. Beyond car speakers, wonder gives a wander whether or not the song plays right. ‘I must not have heard this right the first time.’ Waiting silence comes finally. Changing tenses; the amount of editing that does not allow to replay in its second is where the stand in a stance never hears a voice it needs until it is too late. The whereabouts that find its mark in the living. If search could read a mind that understood where the purpose gave answers beyond the understood – can it be achieved by the little in a sandlot’s pitch where no one could climb high enough to stop the plate-take. It is a sweet/sour. When worlds and lands collide. Who is the sitting, wide sky in the middle to let it go. Where does the settling set put the heel? Where does that echo in a stepped vibration between heel and the floor speak the same “(Av)ante-garde” that carries a gender’s doubled down standard zeroed-out; tapped, that never came to its conclusion in a result that really got rid of it.

Choices lead to decisions, when it is a circumstance that becomes a factor, in a slight gesture that care is given… the limitations set by one side in front of the other; meeting at boundaries that are set before the stop on a clock that does not exist is a passing. WAIT. There is a hard stutter. Things are slowing to expectation that gauges blessings, the promises that everything is right. WAIT. Everything is always right. Compass arrows. Morals. Ethics. Out the window, balls to the wall; find a park. But there’s a toothbrush at the threshold – just not the same one where temperatures increased too high rise to memory. Slow down now. There is question to preparation, allowing presentations to read in black and white, right there; there is a memory. Giving more than taken is known only where it is taken without suggestion of its ramifications.