It's NEVER over

 
   "It's NEVER over"
   
   I've went to hell and back, numerous times for you.  Shit on left and right.  Laying in the hospital bed, those morons telling me there was nothing they could do two years ago.  In a southern house of bones and skulls.  Them cackling.  All that negativity, yes--focused upon you too.  Licking their chops like carrion eaters.  You just gonna ghost it and haunt like a well-dressed specter?  Possibly.  
   There are other ways.  Channeling.  Divine Energy manifesting matter.  Christ gave us Authority; indeed, He changed the rules.  There are no axioms with God save that He is GOOD.  He is never limited, nor His flock.
   Every Good Shepherd needs a sheepdog.  So play it like you want.  But I'm still gone pester with potency.  They need to know:  they're not the first, and they won't be the last.  Gonna puke in the sink now.  Thanks.  It feels like I'm preggers.  Can't get enough pickles, salsa, and Coca-Cola.  

Eclipsing beauty with confusion

 
   "Eclipsing beauty with confusion"
   
   Hit the streets this morning, talking to the Gentiles--ya know what I mean.  Anyway, the beauty is overwhelming--if you just look.  The giant stocking grocery shelves with a smile, the cool black dude bringing beer to the freezer, and the angel girl going in and out of reality.
   They say the rich man is beauty--in some cases.  Very rare however.  They say blacks should hate whites.  They say whites should hate blacks.  We've forgotten that once, we all kinda loved each other, way back before God lit our candles.  Remember who you are; next, you will see the beauty of the worker and the Italian guy who sings happy birthday to a kid, and with no pressure mind you.
   On the way home from this super-reality, the cars were flashing their lights.  A motorcycle cop with his mirror shades to intimidate.  Motorcycle cops are usually very cool.  But doesn't he know:  the flock is rushing and scrambling to make Ends Meat--the disabled delinquent on errands for his family and the old lady who can barely see above the steering wheel.  No one needs extra taxes or deductions for just being all too human--and not all of us are.  And even if you are, you still can accomplish anything, if sprouting from the True Branch.  Are you picking up what I'm putting down?  

Space City Wins

 
   "Space City Wins"
   
   You could tell by the radiant and emotionally potent orange last night, that victory had been predestined; nevertheless, their wills assisted in bringing the Astros home.  Yes, the Dodger blue was radiant as well; plus, laser-like, and Justin Turner got smacked by a few pitches--sometimes you have to play dirty, taking a page out of the adversary's playbook, but remain as white as a dove in the process.  It seemed to all work for Houston--good for them.
   I keep thinking about Lasorda during the 1980's, and how true blue fans will handle a targeted speed bump.  Have some eggplant Parmesan and shrug it off, before the snowflakes kill Columbus again.
   They all stood.  They all looked beautiful.  Not hiding behind masks.  Bearded tough guys spitting their flavor on the field.  We've all forgot, that not only is baseball the most charming of sports, but it's a walk in the park.  Until again . . .

Crooked attorney got a $30,000 bonus

   
   "Crooked attorney got a $30,00 bonus"
   
   And she said:  "I love you so much.  Yes, I love you."
   When you came home that night, was it you she loved, or the money?
   Don't get your goose cooked.  Whispering charms into your ears, flattering with compliments, so that you continue to shake and bake the bread crumbs, stuffing your own turkey, and she's had more romantic evenings with a turkey baster herself--ain't the sorority house grand daddy?
   Setting you up for incarceration.  Don't go into a hospital.  A nursing home.  A psychiatric ward; indeed, those places are constructed to kill.  I've been in all 3, for protracted periods, flipped around by nurses, and told it was my time to go.
   Thank the Lord (my Refuge) for the Mexican cleaning lady.  She looked at me in awe; next, screamed me a teachable moment:  "What are you doing in here!  You're young!  Get out of here; they'll kill you!"
   The dastardly doctors and naughty nurses said I couldn't leave.  I unplugged myself and told them to go to hell.  Walked out.  Here I am, and I just sucked down a lung dart.  
   That should do it.  Now, you'll  have to take an extra Prozac or Xanax tonight to sleep.  

Sanford and Son Theme (Intro)

Jeff & Kevin--meet the Divine 7

 
   "Jeff & Kevin--meet the Divine 7"
   
Hail lazy,
Full of Injun crazy--
Hallowed be thy mashed potatoes (for Dan Quayle) and gritty gravy--
How are your wives and daughters?
Do they reflect your countenance's homo-erotic slaughters?
Don't worry--I'm as chaste as they make,
Maybe KGB, maybe a truck driver, maybe fake;
Alas, hold not contempt for liberty;
Indeed, Pee-Wee still calls her Elvira, 
And Mr. Morrison lights a Hollywood bungalow fire--
So break the law,
Rack up your crimes,
The Divine 7 fuel my rhymes;
However, there is one among them
With no sense of humor,
In the Book of Enoch--
Will he give you a tumor?
I've been dead and deep in hell
With them bones that a ruthless caretaker did sell,
As she flipped my matriarch around like a slave,
Cackling cruelty, being true hate forged and made--
You know damn well these thugs don't care
About killing the elderly, even in their own domesticated lair;
Thus, why deny the truth to the masses,
When many among us know you both wear the devil's glasses?
That one with the mustache, he damn well knows,
And if he stands up; next, he overthrows.  

All Saints' Day

   
   "All Saints' Day"
  
   This guy might have come to my house last night.  Maybe not.  He was dressed as a Dictator; indeed, he put a potato on the end of his naked choad. 
   Then you have Pizza the Hut, and he tortured me in the second grade, where I attended a regally rural school, in a trailer no less, constantly drawing pictures of a frozen Han Solo and brushing up on my Faulkner.  Were they brave?  Yes.  Were they courageous?  Yes.  But they displayed no pity or mercy.  Sherman's coat was never taken off or removed during his time in the Civil War, some say, and it was a drab olive-green.  Confederate Generals were well-dressed--ZZ Top wrote of the sharp-dressed man.  Yeah, I wanna look like the dillweed from that fancy J. Crew catalog and put feathers in my hat, not allowing the enlisted men any shoes while England is funding my plumes.  
   Always help out the little guy; he's the vertebra of the Corp.  Now don't get me started on truck drivers again.  What the hell.  Best reflexes, many drafted by the CIA.  What, nobody in the CIA ever drove a truck?  Met this female trucker, carrying your goods and survival on the midnight highway while you hold her in contempt and call her stupid--all because she never got brainwashed in college; moreover, her handle was:  Precious Cargo.  Too bad a snob like you won't break bread with her.
   And the Saints.  Mostly peasants or fruitcakes.  Good for them.  The world is bigger than you know, or I know.  This isn't even my house.  They made sure of that.  Like with my Dad's fortune.  In their pockets.  I've been screwed more times than your wife back when she was a sorority girl, getting educated, honestly instructed on how to be a crook, and possibly, a murderer.  Or possibly not.  Yeah, she's Mary Poppins.