Dreaming Haadjmo's Dance Time; AManuel, (Reg TM)

Where Best To Fall

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 06:09:00 +0000

From here we are
To near and far
There are
Those who owe
And of whose debts to pay
That we may
One day
As of all owing
Be that north winds are blowing
Then to the east further
Over the seas and rather
Next skipping on over
Whole continents best
To the middle of the story get
Until east again
Then to Europe
Only to find the truth shines
Down south in the dark continent next
Where from the lesson long
Homeward bound now and belong
Easterly all bar in India’s pause
Is the solution quite plainly
Nobody’s patent
Yet of earth’s five elements
Each just as we need it
To pay for that we refused of
Naught but our own self to disabuse with
This tale I’ll never tell
Of whereabouts your next fall is
And take note of this countenance
For within the sort of the best
Will those who have abused of
The methods for God’s love
Find themselves next trip’s intolerances
Through receiving only of criminal fill
And when blaming this if daring to still
That might just find itself
Far too disabled
To sustain human will
That perhaps you’ll all better fare well
Through the exo-skeletal
Those of you who so tell
So remember this well
Not before five all
And well alive fall
Even if somewhat poor

Who Would Have Thought

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 04:02:00 +0000

Who would have thought
My mother and father have fought
To be fallen unto naught
But their own game
This the same

Who would have thought
My parents so devious
As to fail to realise
When a child was being honest
Is that I own their shame

Who would have thought
That the reason I own of
The old bones that
Rattled parental thrones is
Because of nobody's fall my own

Who would have thought
Of my failure to fall
Despite one and every and all
Projecting upon me
Desperation to hate thee

Who would have thought
Was my father's own game
To falsify his own fall the same
But then become tricked because
My own false line the better cause

Who would have thought
That to falsify lust one
Had no need to fabricate
Any badly matched fuck since
There were those who wanted to it too bad to know of

Who would have thought
My father was costing
His own falsifications
Of socieities required statuses
Wrongly upon me his daughter longer

Who would have thought
That to falsify lust once
Never had I need to fabricate
For those who tried to bribe my father
Obliged me that grace

Who would have thought
That my mother's blaming
Her daughter so sold to her husband
Were never able to cause of
What she was holding her own costs against

Who would have thought
My own will to never
Let badly matched fucks win
The game of my father's
Would have left me so stranded

Who would have thought
They did their level best to
Impose upon me the reality they sought
But have failed to and rather
Falsified for me my way into the game of my father

Who would have thought
Might have been Dad
But that
His wife imagined to have had him at
Since she fell into the mirk of false reputations staked upon this grace bidden rest

Who would have thought
Mrs. Catherine E. Marker nee Caling
Might have failed the test
Of what upon her at Dad's behest
Was the forgiveness forever request

Who would have thought
That every body in one family
Would manifest such great idiocy
As to fail to see
What protects my children is yet today me

Who would have thought
That those whom have risked all we earn
Are stationed in government positions
And hoping beyond hope
To pove their own joke is their yoke

Who would have thought
That unless there is provided real evidence to court
The solutions being founded will prove ungrounded
And a father's dreams of his wife nevermore blamed
Might prove to be that the whole story is fallen into causing men to fail

Who would have thought
That they all care less for the safety of children
Than to have one fuck more blaming somebody's mother
And when we've all finished proving it ain't my own mum
There was nobody left to safe me for my own children

Who would have thought
The victory done longer by
The children now running too dry
Who realised before now the score be
Best kept close and silent with me

Who would have thought
That the easiest game to play
Be feigning incompetence
While sustaining good conscience
Who would have thought

Who would have thought
That the simple request of a son
To go easy on his mother at that time of the month
Could have been misconstrued into
A fabrication of his mother being the worst kind of monster

Who would have thought
That such innocence being blamed was
No problem for the parents of that same
Uninvolved as they have been
But for the lies between

Who would have thought

Two More Poems of upon what no money be growing but

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 04:00:00 +0000

Had To

I had to
Take of my
Buy two
Shoes three
Style four
My five
Are you
That who
Exchanged the hat
Of nobody’s fame
For having to blame
Is that your game is too lame
To be bothered with trying to tame
But I had to
Realise it near all the same
That its defeat not meek
But by you unrecognised
Because it is not through my blaming
You that your own style
Of way is to
Inform my own dreamtime
Of all you have been unto

Matched Unto

The hot water surround
Of the deepest my ground
Are where Satan’s footprint’s abound
Yet in my own Dreams
Always let down
By Jesus preparing the road around
So when you discover
I was matched to another
Who was wrongly blamed for
Wanting me barefoot and all
Simply only because
I own a monopoly
On trading and exchanging
The real labour value
Embedded in capital
That the social labour value
Though me is
Its own independent economy
Without need to fight for the wages
That be at all times paid by failures
To for all men provide
So why might I
Accept of the money
Being paid only to me
Through being enabled by
Pursuing fears in another of poverty
When the Bible tells us not to and
While I fear not having no money
Thus thanks to all who have helped me
Into this pensionable category
But if it was for you want to define me
As lacking real capability
To mother my children more perfectly
Than any other mother will ever be able to be
The learn I have found
That evidence abounds
Against those whose corruption bound
Me into this game in the first place
Whereupon when at 33 when I entered the race
It has been to discover that the real face
Of child protection
Was never what any money upon
But that for money’s use in real providence
To the sanctity of childhood belongs
Every cent of
But possible only by the understanding of why it is
That if you blame any failure towards children
In any family at all
By what upon you spend your money
And how you account for its sum being
A way that the rich bribe the poor
Into covering over how child abuse has no door
For if you are blaming
The failure in any family
When you spend of your money
Why then be your money
That which is persecuting
The child
By accusing the future
In which you hoped to profit from
As having the continuation
Of reason to blame of
Anybody not perfectly behaved towards
The children whose game thus this is
While real protection be found
In money that abounds
By refusing to get rich upon
What needs no increases of
So in the money I salvage
From economies so blinded
As to be blaming the child through
Accusing parents of failing to
Might you
Prefer to learn
Of my own dollar value
Having every saved worth in
What aspects of economic stability
Continue once after
The forests replanted
Electricity and fossil fuels use
Drastically diminished
Until eventually
Not needed at all
So if you’ve been blamed for
Wanting my game and its score
Know only
You need believe me
To not in social value become poor
For the real money score
Has permanently labour’s worth underscored
So to the work that is worth
This game of nobody’s fame
But the story in heaven made all the same
Don’t be shy again
Of denying wrong blame
But remember forever
I mothered whose game
And will say who is inside its way
No matter how many children they have taken away
And how many men refused to play
With motherhood’s day
In which never one cent held
Against my own children may
But try and I’ll take you to hell for a whirl
With the beasts I met there a terrible girl
Yet whose work has been worth
In time more than this verse
And that it matched unto
My own shoes
Who but will do unto

Tricked Reputation

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 03:51:00 +0000

Tricked Reputation

There might be some way
To let the real story fey
Of mr grimes real reputation
He and many conspired to have
Hidden from the court that
Brand naught but who needs of
Is that no shelter can stay
Within his nether reputation
And that this story’s repercussion
Is his own situational problem
While the reality of reputations
In this has tricked a whole nation

Tricked by the hypnosis
Of Rowing on Roe “E’s”
Has been the notion
Of what to do with these
Poems in motion
Don’t you forget
To wreck
The breeze yet
For that which mr grimes blessed
Be not what you bet
Thus through Rohan a tease
Of the story please

Therefore best be blessed
With the slow pokes best on
That she won’t ever forget
Is a nest best
Of the next best
But whatever mr grimes prevents of
Be that not needed of yet upon
Is how his definition
Became at the
Queen’s behest
Of offloading mistakes upon
Australian children
Thus proven
But three son’s my own
Best efforts known
This poem naught before
Those sick heads did cause
That they Queen took of
The Irish Satanists cause
Instead of the true story
For reconciling
With Britain less poorly
In debts owing for me
Whoever my truth be

Is that through this story
The twelfth whoever he is be
Able not poorly
And set up far to surely
By the mr grimes unruly
Reputation mask falling
Upon those “e’s”
Of rowing’s please
Collect the best yet
Among stories on breeze
So long as the behest of
Is the Queen’s
While that being dumped upon
The downtime from
Be what of his fees
For selling this on
Against my reality be

Thus know you not
The story belongs
Not poorly but
Through what show because
Has one only the pull upon
And not me but from

He who will and who has
Married the right girl his own that
This poem might not need be known
For only is it his to own
The worth in its words
Thus scuttled from that your mind heard
Since reality
Is bound by being indebted to he
Whose worth is the work
Of having overcome the difficult sum
Of what mr grimes attempted
Prevent of
But thus failed bar his own gun
Who holds this true best unto me
Has upon the real force of the law within be

Counting Time Spent Alone

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 14:41:00 +0000

Another day alone
Another night with nobody to phone
Another year with everybody else's fears to own
Another week for my safety at home
To work for by writing these words out precisely
In meaning quite likely
Not what be seeming
But reality is streaming
To make these words strings exactly
Upon what of me was being denied that
To tell my own truth is all I own yet
But to tell it in full story
No detail left out
Is that I measure by life's precise amount
Of joy in breath and living at best
For the worth of the Earth is that we are yet
In love with the function God grants us to live in
Of breathing for Earth's need to cleanse up the atmosphere
That taking down the worlds worthless dreams and
Replacing with better is what living can mean that
To live is the excitment of every game and
In every song a new find to tame that
We all will this life and
Whatever lives next that
One day in love will we meet up with our best
So mashallah the rest
Of these loniest of days
Is worth life's endurance
For Jesus my praise
That my self in this race
Of human kindness today
Because Aboriginal I am and
Australian because
My heart's will ever of
This country my home
Be my true real bone
Eternally known of
That survival has meaning
Within all the fears
And the worst of these years
Weeks and days and the tears that
Neither need we deny
Or assert the real finding
Of what is the nature of
Our way to be binding
Will no loneliness defeat
The willing retreat
Into reconciling our feet
For the way soon complete
In the endless love of
Living life to its fullest
Will no want be uncounted
No hate be unrouted
No life be needless
Yet never without willingness
To love who creates us
For this will to provide of
What life will my mind low
That even worms sew
To receive of our desires known
Must we give away that exact bone
Thus tonight yet alone

Windy Corner's

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Thu, 21 Feb 2008 00:38:00 +0000

I once mentioned
To a person bent on
Undermining Australians
That our culture depends on
The unravelling certain
Of pride's stations
That reassembling might
Children's clues provide
(that is to say
in my own way
to provide of clues for
children themselves to own of
so beware not to read me wrong)
As to who from we need hide

And so he tried
Bump up our pride
Since his purpose
Was to set up our nation
To take on false blames of
Over exposure of children
But he also did try
Convince us all that why
We need his type
Of pride
Just might
Be a left winger's right
When in fact his own plight
Was neo-nazisms blight
Held down
By Yakuza fashioned
Mental imprisonment rounds

And guess what
He failed to have got
Might my pride not
conceal of too long
That by Juda my song
Did he thus steal of
Not realising of course
That being accountible in pride
Is to become our lies
Thus social pressures conspired
That his fellow criminals decided
(While yakuza rebels his decisions abided)
To vote Labor this time

That perhaps he best not
Continue to rot
In his own pride
Never agreed with inside
Of his own mind
While the rest of us find
What he stole from us
Which could not be of
Sanity we have got
Without the victory applied

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 03:59:00 +0000

Hadn’t

The nation
State is
What of it
You make of it
Have it
A habit
To give what
You did
Thar guitars
To go far
For you
Will live
That Shaytan
Versus these poems
To break
No money
Forgives
But that
This is

Money Bitch Shod Witch

Moon did
Lid fits
Let with
This it
Pro’s post gram
Peach Sheik
Feat week
Bless nits
Half the old poem
Still hits
Hell’s tits
Stray fit
Nets boil
Same toil
Frill pill
Thrills ill
Shit sticks
Blame this
Money bitch
Death its
Law full
Shoo expense

the poem upon which undercover operatives imagined their own theft

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 03:49:00 +0000

Has Poetry any in not already well enough Hunted?
aka Who Am I?
aka The Lady of the Lake’s Perfection is Baked

To pay for my Treasure
Of word made Spell
Your $20 will learn you well
Treasure earned
Is treasure usefully kept
While treasure bought
The winds of change blow best

So follow my lead
In the Hunt upon stead
For my Magic and its spells
Were never free
Yet by freedom be

By post with surety
If you live not in the City
My treasure is in
Fearing not its secret
Through to you too
By mail and post who
Might send me their letter
That never
Your fear of unknown
In my words
But to read
Is the means I have shown
As ancient culture reads nature
We read the poem
That Reconciles now known
At my treasure
Of Hell I have lived
Alive I was and not too bad
Through the Valley of the Dead
And can remember death
That of everlasting life the promise
Be never unknown to my life
No matter how they try
And even already stole of
More than twice
That this is the Treasure
And I who bring it to you
Zen Yen Xenophobe be not
My writing will be less what
You strangely feel accustomed to
Yet you I know will read me true
For an eye on what do you
In money through
This is the story for you
A story about a small certain fact
Yet fact of no small uncertainty that
Of large impact
In which my own is the hat
Being quietly a shell shocking fact
That mine is to insulate its knowledge
Within layer upon layer of
Conditioned Scholar’s rage
My status not socially recognized
Nor falsely opposed when defined
Yet immutable of real impact
Yours to reap in the learning
Of gradual reading
This is no easy read through
Yet worth it be for you
If you can too
From Eternity to now and then
I did not do
138 show you
The only grounds left
Whose are Religious
In evidence for Science
And Mystic
Is my pact
You will never collapse
Within this its formidable fact
Of biological consequences
Not of war by in personal expenses
For those whom have kept me a girl
In mind all the time
By preventing my womanhood right
While forcing me seem their want to do
And stealing from me the memory
Of what hell is defined
Might yet of course realize
This is the well to the spell
And of time
Not more than sublime
That the more they have stolen of my life
The longer their own in hell to find
By mine
For I will again so as to defeat their kind
That the least they could do
Would be to let my will through
For the future they steal of
As though able exist at present
Doth shine
With eternity’s bind
Know it was for a very long time
From 1938 to 67’s grate
Upon thousands of lifetimes baked
That life be bliss beyond their comparing mind
I have won myself in eternity fine
But never without Allah time

Today's Concern With Life

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 05:55:00 +0000

In the past
Our numbers
Began in Arabic language
As real signs
By design
For each had the right number of angles
To pictorially represent numerical value
Yet when numbers are symbols not signs
Then what is the meaning of how much we have spent

One: was alike to how seven is often drawn, with one angle
Two: like a Z with two angles
Three: another angle at the bottom of the 2
Four: keep it joined at the top and don't cross over the line when finishing
Five: like a digital six but where the part which has often been a circle in a six doesn't meet
Six: like a digital six
Seven: with a cross through its leg and a stand under it
Eight: like two triangles joined
Nine: I don't know that one, which is alright since I can count in base nine.

Sugar and Spice (and all things nice)

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Tue, 05 Feb 2008 07:30:00 +0000

Sugar and Spice

She liked being a girl
Her play with dolls unfurled
And of secrets we all bear
Hers were that bound by pearl
That never has secrecy spoiled
The past effects of her toil
For motherhood’s spoils
Are to be defamed for that exact
Behaviour which prepares the girl
For motherhoods facts
Yet of daughters future’s royal
No son’s past could ever foil
When motherhood’s best
Is habit
The sanctity of childhood has it
To demand of a manPerfection in marriage

Perhaps that only perhaps, but never delusionally

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 02:27:00 +0000

Perhaps

When my community
Of religious believers
Provided for me
It had been those of the Earth
Preventing me
Yet that their providence replacement
But police prevented that so see
I worked to prove my case lawfully
For my own place be true in Eternity
Yet then and oh when
Was it my own past behaviour
In nine and a half years of no favour
Which intervened preventatively
In the form of that former acquaintance
From whom none had been protecting me
That in Allah believe
The full account now in me
Must by definition include
The whole of my history
Yet never otherwise has it been
But that those of my past
Lay claims upon owning me
And without attending as need be
Since it was asserted
I might be expected to believe
This here analysis
Is only delusion I perceive
Thus now that it be
Family Law Courts
Using all three forms
Of the ripping off of me
As though to defame my real credibility
Perhaps best that fact never said
Of true identity

Jealously Guarded

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 02:06:00 +0000

This is my truth
You might have to get
It is not my own way
That to be jealous
And yet
If a man he
Has been with who
He was letting imagine be me
Believe in my wrath true
For if ever I cheated on he
Twas never my bill
To have so charged of who we be

My House

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 02:36:00 +0000

Give to me my house
For it won't be all my shout
Unless your mind truly doubts
What is this all about
Less that the key to the house

Obscene

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Wed, 09 Jan 2008 22:48:00 +0000

#########

Obscene

You won’t like me much
Unless but
Your will is to tolerate thus
That I have less of
What you might like for
Reputation management
Than what I saw of your need to have it
I’ve holes in my teeth
My feet were bare
Knots in my hair
A red eyed computer stare
And armpit fungus to boot
Nothing worth your attentive providence
Which seemed to want of
I don’t know what
Above being valued higher
Than your drunken behaviour
In which you awarded me small favour
But that I don’t think so
Of any chance likely
We might fit together socially
Thus best not consider what
It might be like to have with you got
And before those who steal of
My real self worth in
Well considered reputation
Could take their time to trash me
Within you own mind
I did it for them
Sustaining thus some control of
So as it is I have been who mentioned
The pants I was wearing
The fact of the monsters
Back at my house all yawning
And what it is I don’t like about
This learning each other’s situation
But that I wanted of
And wondered upon love for
And could not have
Predicated
Having thought you would find me
In some darker shaded life style
That is who I expected
Was a darker kind of guy
But since we met
It’s like we did
Together what’s not worth
A mention
And why is mine
But how I don’t get
When what was of
My dodging you propositioning
With some sick commentary
About nobody’s real predisposition
But that I found mine
Became catalysed to find
Itself needing
No, you’re right
There’s no such thing as
Love at first sight
But at the first touch was
One glory filled feeling scored
That you might just be
Even good enough for me
Anticipating some resolution
Of the world’s best solutions
Despite my mother’s
Predilection
For presupposing my definition
Be against she needfully
That under a mountain I be
So if you can believe
Life’s reality
Is detected by
Never getting it easy
And consider how life might be
If with me your difficulties
You might please just find me
Your own to handle is
But that this here be
Authored by me
And there’s something else about me
But it seems I’ve had a dream
You might forgive me
My half arsed hair
Halved not spare
Neither in the arse
But for how it got there
With plenty of hair
And a bit of blonde-ing cream
To prove it’s not my own want to have been
Obscene
So believe me
There is reason manifesting
For us to be now communicating
Outside of the context
Of the obscene
Is that we were seen
And mistaken
In why I might have been
Escorting you to where your need
As described to me
And thus my reputation
Now needs yet further clarification
In which perhaps you owe me
Since it’s been
My own good turn
To have sent you
Back into that you spoke of to be
And then there is that other need
For the services of
An Artist in deed
But not to forget
There is also the best
Of what went on between
Us to yet
Decipher clean
Since my own social situation
Is rather badly affected yet
But now here I recall
Those other reasons seemed to fall
Into this fourth time
Now I’ve tried to divine
Somehow
Might it be
That you need me
To include you among
Those owed a letter because
It’s not really me who has been
In regard this situation
Having promulgated
The obscene
But it has been
Between
The Queen of Sheba
The suicidal Korean
And nothing you ought to have already been
When Cain has been
Today forgiven
And Eve’s account of the snake made clean
While Adam
Well
It seems he might be
Quite alright as well
Astride the ride of what life did
Leaving eventually only
The beast of the Earth
Between you and me
Will love be
And never obscenely
So lonely
Again
But when
And why did it have to be that I write the “l” word not lightly so publicly
So best believe
If it’s not only the dream
I’ll have you for letting it happen to me
That a prostitute might I seem
Unless one day some nice man finds himself astray
And winds up married to me
But first might he
Need to know I have dreamed
Beyond one touch
Don't know me
Unless all of it and showing
For somebody somewhere took that shot
Of how he failed to know what he already had got

The money was in

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Fri, 28 Dec 2007 10:28:00 +0000

Join up
To corrupt
Who will
Not

That is and if
You can comprehend this
Accept its
Will to do you to do this too

Is that if others are then might you not join them
But of whom among be similar enough to enjoin with
Yet beware of accusations not but if and causal
To your need be aligned within these words thus

For the wrong of some is to count upon that same wrong among
Those who with they share culpability upon
Accusing causal to blaming victims long
Forever in death belong all money upon

Cleaning

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Fri, 28 Dec 2007 10:22:00 +0000

A five align fine thing
For north capital ring
To find what tomorrow could brind
Under the mushrooms
My father and mother
Hand me upon with no lover
Will I this sing
Of how much extremes in such
It is I have been
Taking for their self righteous slings
Upon naught but that fraught with
Our shared ancestral wings
Being worth that I will be
For ever and a day
Paying eternity the way
God's love to sing
Willing is rightfully
Paid by work completed
Thus this to sing
No spoon need I bring
For I respect my own ancestral wind
And in my ice cream
The restaurant took their ice for
My mother's cream
Making her thirty three be
My forty four
And clean
So to sing this I mean
Is my own accountibility of love sure weaned

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Thu, 27 Dec 2007 00:49:00 +0000

That sang with
I comprehend nothing
But it is the moneyless song
For the neighbours did pave
My way to Satan's grave
To take with you if these dreams you did raid

Twelve sets of three gifts

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 04:51:00 +0000

Six books
Take a look
Three of each kind
Which sort is for your mind

Three egg cups
Yet can you but
Eat three at a time
Or have you two brothers
Who might
Like to share these duck’s treasure
For dinner tonight

Three DVDs
Were bought by me
And a fourth
Was the first
A more perfect gift given me

Three reined in
Dear friends
In Deers of the rein
Down the chimney been trained

Three sorts of stuff
For a Harry Potter fan club
Which could you like
And which might
Take a hike

Christmas crackers
But are they really bangers
Or the same inside
Their old name is a Bon Bon alright

Three balls for juggling
Not exactly round things
Yet for throwing and catching
Can you share of these three things?

Six soaps
Three of each
Of two sorts
Is a boat
Of course
To experiment because
One of you might have received
A third olive oil sort
By Christmas Eve

Three key rings
Are a Biblical thing
For comparing
To the stories in Qur’an
We might already long sing

Three cases
Of pencils and rulers
But no staples
Are the colours arranged
In a be different from one another
Sort of game

Three bags
Of a smaller sort
More portable of course
Than what that red headed mother
Last year stitched to your shoulders
So look inside
To see if she could provide
The same sort of surprise
Every year no less wise

These three balls
Are a hairy sort of fall
Into three more

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Tue, 11 Dec 2007 04:33:00 +0000

Fully disabused
About what is to lose
Might we
Take up fight upon good fight
Permanently thus non-violently

Sort of vaguely yes maybe
Sometimes
If something rhymes
I write it down
To be a poem found

Reason to have
Shope card shown love
Yet not decided
But
Of good manners here trust

Here be the
Collecting in me
Of rhymes in which we
Might find absurdity
Thus take life quite lightly

Backed into that corner
I feigned to be a party to
That which was what popularity through
Only to find its wrong shoes
Were counting upon assuming this future feigned not

Will

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 11:08:00 +0000

Will it be when
But not uncle bill
For when he did still
That the blame upon women
For not letting men love us
Could not be found until
We learn it was upon
That failing to reconcile Australia
Is being blamed to the P&C associations
Right across this nation
By the sort of bad majic we ban
In the culture of Australians
Which makes falsifications
And prevents who was being blamed
From knowing what of that we were being thus lamed
Is now the time to tame
And that of what was the fame
In which all Australians defamed
A story of being wedged between
The bad milk
And the
Food story
Of how an acidic diet can make you do
What you had no reason to
Was how we were caught between
And that we knew the real scene
And our culture is stronger
In real Kinship longer
Is that we survive that sort of blame clean
So believe
This might be
The story upon which was
Never any money because
Every cent which blamed
Anybody harming a child's safety
Can be by accident that which caused
How any child ever could have been less than safe
So in today's world
There is no need for
The word "paedophile"
This because

The improvment to poems that won everything under the sun by making these ones the more difficult to read of

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Mon, 08 Oct 2007 06:34:00 +0000

Family Ties

Let mothers be bound
By everything that is sound
In her children's perception of need
And fathers be found
To not need be rare
So long as that they provide of
Is not more than a child's mind
Can forgive equitably in time
For who in the world
Will father mine
Bound as I am
By three sons fine
Two daughters in the dreamtime
And an ex-husband of sorts
Who would rather have married the wife
Whose want is control of
The child's mind
So let us be bound
This gift a round
To impose on all fathers
In children's forgiveness abide
No matter how far need we
Redress the tide
Of fears to live within
Paternal consequence bind
Letting mothers thus
Clean up the mess
Of what has become of
Family ties
Bound and gagged alone
By time
That none can deny
In our genetics
Must we rely

Not Too Bad

Can they even know how
To be hungry
Those people whose cow
Is well fed on the
Grasses of the rains of
What will be
For we of the desert
Fear no evil see
When held by comparison
To how the
Rain lands be
Where is it
Higher population
Density
Causing the rain or
Rain bringing the people to be
In the game of
What in life can't be
Held for free
A different ball game
Yet existing the same
Upon lands where
No people are named
As faulted to blame
The ball game
Of no known rain
Is that which
No despair could lame
For together
Will life be
Held on by
What of my
Existence might not long be me
Yet eternally
Life has every been held by
The same key
So learn how
You who want of
Whatever it is going round
Learn how it is that
Being hungry
Is me
Yet never the definition
Of hunger
I breath

When Death’s Disease is Real

I know of those who can’t believe
But this my real experiential feel
Is that of my world
Might it be unfurled
They’d be better off to believe

Yet believe in what
And why me
It is that believing
In reality
Can prove has no money ring

When better off is because
Of re-learning the need
To fend for life
When without money
Has every life the right

So with your dollars and cents
Remember my belief will not be proven non-sense
But that I can not tell of
Only what it is which above
Falls down and infects the ground with

The right to feel
Even when the world
Has proven itself
To be no more than
Your diseases

The world in your head
Will come on down
Into physical sense
Only as diseases
Unless you believe in

What it really is meaning
To be a Human being
That the sense of me is
To hate the world that
Ever denied even one child such fact

So feel with me if you can
What it is we all need please
Believe in again
Since disease has real reason
When deaths want is another season

So believe in me only
I might just be
A real possibility
For without me
Perhaps sooner your own will in death be

Belief in the Self as the Citizen might have right

In this country my home
Now in a forty year zone
Of having imposed
Being citizens of legislative process
Upon every one among
Those of us born here
As though it was us who did
Define legislature
As real law
In this country we love
There has to become
More positive reason
For being a citizen
Than the ongoing failure
Of legislature
To provide justice
In this nation in which
Belonging to land is
The notion of what a house is
Has always been more collective
Yet therein the private becomes
Defined by what is the indigenous
Association with worth in
Holding onto what is without
Immediate utility
For when holding one
To what is your own
To belong
Even when wrong
Has one simple function
Determined by collective suggestion
Of to which story might you belong
In which animal tale might you become strong
Through the money you pay for
How is it you are housed
Might indigenous Australia this
Now after forty years paying
Redefine the nature
Of what it means to be
A citizen
Of the nation
State of mind being
What will be what houses your feeling
And believing it also best
Inshallah like the rest
Of Humanity's best
Will let the money we spend
In the oil industry
Mark us as is
Our real nature to be
For a house our self
Might test imperfectly
To the truth we lead in full attest
While of the carbon
That your car burns
You become what you be
Directly proportionally
Is that you buy
What you cause with
Your purchase
And in each citizenship test
Might we
Ensure this
Ideal is
Bound into
By shared citizenship
With
Those old allegory
Of the house with four rooms
And the horse drawn carriage
No future without the past can manage

Consequence

There is no way
To touch me
Without this
Even yet when
I have of it
No knowledge
In external mind
For belief in
Myself
Will ever I
That my own consequence
Is eternally only mine
And thereby
In Allah I

Islam’s Eternal Victory

The Muslims who deem
All of their own minded sheen
Of what it is Allah might seem
Could be the death of me
Since they are not wanting me likely
To be that defining
What any real believer could be
Are those Muslims
To whom in cruelty
It is that
The rest of us Muslims
Refuse to deny any Muslim
The identification
Of being a Muslim
Yet
When they wish death upon
Any individual among
All of those in Islam
No matter what our identification
Then upon their own mind
They make the stamp of their kind
A non-believer
Indeed is
That which
In Islam
The Jihad of mind
Establishes the right
To end with the falisification of life
While the exact same is real
Of the true feel
Of being an Aborigine
Here in my land australia
Never too grand
And whether there are any
Or none or some
Or all of us many
Who belong in both category
A Muslim and an Aborigine
Risk not to guess upon
For this my friend
Is that we are all who have won
That any are some
However whatever will none

Get It Now

Get it now
He said
But to who and how
When if only he knew
He had said to that cow
He was imagining to be his chow
For the getting of
Was no mistake because
Thus one day I got myself
Back from where in hell he’d taken me since
Of Kinship I was ill but
Not now whence
I learned about
Why any many takes initiation proud
Might be because of
Men like he
Who imagine they are getting
By preying on me
To the tune of the moon
While imagining they do
But forget of
What it is that they did to their own
Self because

When Children Were Stolen

In having been accused
Of accusing
My accuser
Of being a paedophile
While they also thus
Accuse me
To the extent of
Having manifested
False evidence of
In the mask
Of insanity
Yet while I
In Dreams am
Yet child still
So seem
To be anything
At all they
Accuse of me
All the while I have been
Resisting
The temptation
To counter accusing
Even their blaming
That this is but plain statement
Of facts already multiply
Around me
In the real world that
While here I stand
Innocent still
Of all they accuse my will
To prove this
Is that today’s hill
Is one accusation
I might just make
Inshallah that
Not of my own bake
But that forced upon
Me for my own children’s protection
I accuse thus
They who have
Stolen my children
By false allegations
Made to psychiatrists
Whom deluded by believed in
The falsehoods
That already true is
These points here proven
Empirically
That they who have
So behaved towards me
I here formally accuse of
Proving the causes
Of stolen generations
In their own example
Towards me
In my own mothering yet
Never will I here let
Them prove of
Through any example
Against children
Thus the proving
In me
Of Dreams in which
I can never see
Yet understand of
I am preventing
That those who have my children
Taken away from me
Ever feel guilt of culpability
From the rapists
Who attacked them
During their own childhoods
That thus as adults
Now will they be able
Never so offend
But as for their accusing
Me of accusing them
Of what they
Accuse me of
When
They speak with
Insane psychiatrists
All their result is
This
That I guess
All parties to
Will just have to
Be assumed to be
Insane until
They do return to me
My children
For Death’s will be in me
That this will through me

The Intervening Army

The Army has been called in
To inspect the children
Make sure of how clean we
Are keeping up with
The rest of society
Us Aborigines
Opposing the Armies
Bringing with them
The federal police
To ensure no head lice perhaps
For children need schooling
And no child might
Be let ever again
To wonder upon
What it is that went wrong
When their father was taken
To prison
For the truth of the story
Is truly quite appalling
That the children at risk
Are being harmed by
Other children
In children’s attempts to
Bring upon their own selves
The responsibilities of
An adult’s life
Since the children will realise
What is it that
Is happening
To their fathers at
The inside of a prison that
Which imposes this fact
Such that the child’s mind
Wants for what will protect
Itself best
Might be the rapid onset
Of adulthood yet
For such is the likely result of
Any invading army’s cautions
And to be invaded by
Medical examinations
So let us all pray that
At least the police
Might now be
Enabling detoxifications
Among the men who
Were raped into
Becoming grog sick
So lets all pray that
At least the police
Might now be
Enabling detoxifications
Among the men who
Were raped into
Becoming grog sick
Demented and bant
To prevent that as fathers
Their self decency is spent
Upon their own children’s intent

Tobacco

I know of a bloke
Who holds his accounts afloat
By blaming whomever
Need partake of
Any medicine
That is prescribed within
Legislation
And when
Once I believed him
Then he told me I needed
To get such medicine
Of the anti-psychotic variety
Presumably
From believing in him
And I got and took it
And I found therein
All my Dreams turned in
To the nightmare of
His own hate for life
And his own worth despised of
In his consciousness
That such as he is
He needed to force me
Psychologically
To take such medicine
Only so as he
Could be manifesting
Any real sanity
While in the meantime
I stopped taking the medicine
Then stopped needing him
Then recovered
So all is well but
For to find that
He still blames me at
And sought to force me
Take such medicine again
So as to enable
That my own Dreams
Of reality
Can make only himself stable
And have no way
To manifest me
Which supposition
I resisted immensely
Until now here you see
I am remembering
That when I took of
That anti-psychotic
Medicine
I promised myself
In each swallow
To take upon myself
What he blamed me with
While he imagined
His own good health
At my expense his dish of wealth
And so now might I
Begin
To believe I
Can condemn
His falsehoods
By every swallow
Of any future medicine
Including even
The food I buy
That well might you also
Remember me and give it a try
To improve your own mental health
Just by
Commitment to believe
In only what has evidence
Every time you chew
And swallow what
It is you your self need
And as for the bloke
His last delusion of me
Will be for him to choke
Since he believed in
My worldly offer
Of health to him
As though without
That accompanying
Condition
That he like me
Give up
Tobacco

The Cry That Knows No Supposition

There are some who suppose
Having a baby
Enables absolution
Of any sin in
The acts of
Sexualised behaviour
That is enabled
Facilitate conception
Which can be true
Of course only because
There is no absolution
Of any crime against
The child born
That sin-less sex
For procreation
If in truth had a pleasure motivation
Is made more expensive
In the measure of sin
Than is sex with contraception
In every instant in which
Your babe in arms
Cries
With consuming the world’s poor tide
And you can not yourself
Immediately resolve
The tears of the child who knows time
For your own act caused
That you must realise
What every sexual expense will be ever of
For in giving birth
The lesson is
This experience
Is just the beginning
Of responsibility
For far more than the
Simplicity of pleasure’s fee
So be not one among
Those decreasing sums
Of folk who in some
Maddened mind supposed upon
What is the nature of being willing
And what that fact of consent
Can have done to the cost of love’s rent

Tonight’s Dream

Tonight my Dreams have been
Evidenced to be invaded
Interrupted by police assertion
Their own control of Dreamtime
Such that we may detect
What in we have been leaking
From our minds into police delusions
About the imagination
Of control of ancient song cycles
That I will permanent
Refuse to get
Tricked into such assertions
For I know true
The Dreamtime belongs with me and you
And every mind law abiding
For in Allah the truth
Even the criminals mind
Need not accept of
Police accusing
As though their cause is
No more than to convict through their own story
So let them live only in the day time
In the world of physical evidence mind
Meanwhile will I ever persist
In explaining
Through Dream lines
Of Song cycles
Travelling the Earth’s ley lines
Have no far of police assertions
For will I reassert the thing
To believe in
If your Dream cycle
Is real
And the Song lines your deal
Believe in Allah
Jesus is King
And Qur’an belong to the land
So tonight
Like every night
When woken upon a Dream with might
Will I awaken to engage in
Enacting what through True Law is proven
That this night is including
Refuting police asserting
Their control of our song
Has any relevance upon
Ancient story cycles reforming
Allah forever will love the land
Jesus is King
Thus tells Qur’an

I Have Been

Been prosecuted in mind with
Not being black enough of kind
To that the socially acceptable give
But when of their gift is
Only the greed to be whiter
Which they give of by theft of
What I had been of blacker than them
And when I refuse
To take into my behaviour
What it is that I take in mind of them
Are they accusing me
Of being too white
When what I can see
Is that my own behaviour
Is already much blacker
That must I mentally point to
Their insidious ignorance
Of their own whiteness
As my methodology blackly
In tackling the whites who
Tend to
Be less able resist
Behaving only as they have Dreamed through
In pleasure seeking they do
Yet either skin colour
Bears with less consequence
In how black any of us are
In the final analysis
And of how dark our children are
Than does real culture
In which
The patterns for whiteness
Have an extra layer of pride that
Is not how we are made but
Neither externally apparent
Except in that
It is opposite
To black people’s pride at
The fact that most white have
More pride in
The most intimate secrets
Pride held between lovers
Is that which never registers
The full consequences
That of fear of
By the minded way of why
I believe I am truly
An Australian Aborigine
Despite my white skin covering
So have bound myself down by
The culture well founded
In what ever made any one
Deadly black

Plan

Did Japan
Invade Pearl harbour
Upon assumption
Of what might come after
In proof of evidence
Long been in wait
Of America’s debt
But to
Australia
Yet
The evidence is
Not even consolidated yet
Of who it might be
The Japanese count against
Since if this is correct
Its an innocent unmarried girl mother
That well might they shudder
At what they’ve done to each other
Unless of course
A wedding of sorts
Goes ahead
Despite every force
Against

Right Easy She Was

Easy street
Might be where to meet
Some girl whose feat
Will be your own defeat
You whose caffeine
Addicted habit
Seems to auction
Out naught but
Disease a bout
Since her tolerance
To your politics
Is quietly on her abhorrence
Which is no more than tolerance
To her death’s causes
Being in yours is
This what for she is
No real easy feat
And the cure of cures for
Amphetamine lies sure
Is chilli in the
Chocolate highs
Right?

Up the Steeple of Love’s Worst Rot

The set up
That went on so long
Of ripping off
What is Allah’s song
Has already ripped off
The worst of the consequence
Of what was left
After Allah’s own mob
Got ripped off
Is that America
Seems to have ripped off
Australian prison conditions
But applied such to
Islamic belief systems
That those who were supporting Americans
Have been who were imprisoned
Through the war against terror
This is life’s more terrible measure
While here in Australia
Us indigenous believers
Allah knows also as Muslim
Have been the worst imprisoned
An imprisonment ripped off
By an American Peace mob
Whose relaying of to America
Has done what
Is not that over there
In American bare
Are real peace loving people
Who needed not our steeple

Will

Will that they all still
Can realise atop the hill
Of sight
Is that insight to the mind
Need not the bind
Of becoming blind
While to hear
Was never to deny
That of the ear
So if these words conspire
To be denied
Then will we ever find
That it was not through me
But that the Behemoth did to me
Thus let not such be
And put these words here out for all to see
For in the place of
In the tricks which become thus
Is naught but
Sustaining that you can better than be

Death's lively

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Tue, 28 Aug 2007 09:04:00 +0000

Since I am me
And a girl indeed
Unable control
The Dreamtime
Then if in your head
Can I hold it as real
That you get me
As deathly
Or is it me
Who needs to enforce this accountability
In Allah forever Dreamtime be
Not what you imagine that death be
But the signs of reality
So just be
With these words in your mind
It must be your own self
Wondering about mine
Since I am me
And a girl indeed
Unable control
The Dreamtime
Then if in your head
Can I hold it as real
That you get me
As deathly

Who is who but that Babylon is not in marriage to be her majesty the Queen of Sheba

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Tue, 28 Aug 2007 09:02:00 +0000

The Queen of Sheba
You can find
Is who wrongly defined
The money mine
As though a direct exchange
For our Aboriginality
Of the grave
As though every cent
She can not already upon you blame
As though her own death you therein made
Is a cent of debt
The Australian debt of greed spent
Was her witness
To the past
This that will define her
To HallehyouKahballah
Who lands her in her self
For Yolngu to find
What did that the child
Was blamed for its own state
Why the socialists fell
And of black men that tell
Why they couldn't marry me
That Babylon have I become you see
Was not this pen's worth to be
But neither Sheba's Queen's lies in me
Put about while I was sleeping deep
Of the debt I am in
When counted out
In cents and dollars
Be no stranger
To the capitalist make over
If you recognise true
What that debt be through
Of more than forgiving
All who upon me were quibbling
Over what joy has no right
Unless bequeathed unto Allah's might
This story now has future resolution
The Queen of Sheba need no more spread such pollution
As the lies about me in everybody
Since the money song
Been sung and long
Not correct except when strong
Enough to resist her stuff
Will now be permanently corrected
By my marriage to
Who will it be
The black Aborigine
He who fit well to me
The white Aborigine
Who wanted to try for to see
Or a Muslim
Whose marriage offer might prove to be
How Sheba's Queen
Sells out every Aborigine
To our own fortune in me
As it is mine inevitably
To expose what is she
For since it is she
Has accused me
While child still
Unless I marry
She seems to have did
That every paeodphile
Was blaming upon me
In every cent
Any of us might spend
Then had she sold news of
To police whose
Ignorant feat has been
To suppose they knew
While criminals who
Had the key to the truth
Used my key of
The crimes of police
To open only their excuse
That I guess you better
Tune in white to find me
Since the Queen of Sheba's
Words of mine
Within her own black skin
Try to define me
As attainable
If only
You are aligned
In a white Australian mind
With who might to their own strife marry me
That Sheba's Queen's
Relaxs yet obscene
In her self relying
Upon any other among
Australian Aborigines
To clean her reputation
Of wrong consciousness
Of what that is sacred
About every child
To belong to
The land in love
Is wherein
Each child yet abide
While of how I find
Sheba's Queen can recognise
This story of mine
Perhaps she'd rather now
After she has four time prevented but how
That who I marry
A black fellow by now too long tarried
As though I'd take to
That who she would for me
But can not be real in life with me
Of bribes from her unto
His mind
Of more than she would let Him find
He that Aborigine
Who brought Islam to me
That this here pen is me
And all through time will see
Greed in Kabbalah
Is nothing but
The greed of this girl
Who knows
Alone why in Babylon
Did Jesus alone praise the song
That the white Aborigine
Sheba's Queen neither could let marry me
For him her answer has been
To provide for far too young and unclean
That perhaps now the solution she dreaded
Will have to be all that is left for me to mend with
How to eat the ills of the world all up
Can I connect my self
In permanent feigned stealth
To Sheba herself
Since found in her I have
The key to what Islam's Empire had
And of every man's real wealth
That it was the Queen of Sheba
Recognising I am but child in mind
Trying to make me eat more
Of what death can score
Than is my style
Of my supposed ignorance to force
Upon wants of money Dreams not yours
That men fall into her bribes upon me of course
And the fayre of marriage thus
Be of might in Allah's love
And to that Queen
Of Sheba’s past
Let her in on our secret fast
It was not her who did it
That the paedophile is the phantom of ignorance
Of the Australian Dreamtime experience
But no more exists
Thus this
For if I am the sole cause of
Then in innocence is love

But when is today too soon for now lives already the moon

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Tue, 28 Aug 2007 07:37:00 +0000

When but
Had Bhyame's Song
Mixed up
The Queen of Sheba
With Babylon
And who but
Was upon
The King of Siam
Too strong
Yet Solomon

Loving Peace was not hating warfare to survive: but in time, order will not deny our peace every made on high

noreply@blogger.com (Rebekah) — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 02:03:00 +0000

Bee Re- Pea- Sea

Who is she
That lady whose chin
Was too big to begin
As at no shame therein
Of a crocodile grin
Of how many whose peace
Of oceans of grief
Has she falsified this week
And which way did we have it
That here might
Like a man tight
With Iblis tonight
Was taking me
In too many
Pieces of specific
Lost meanings because
Of broken up Dreamings
By sending our future’s eye sight
Into the past for disguise of real birth right
She’s not a bee but a bird
And one of those real who never yet heard
Fell out of the first ice age
Yet finding no landing yet in this late stage
Is not even twice the age
Of those of us young enough
To never have known of her stuff
Yet falsified she imagined
To control her mind so as to have it
And did condition too many into her whim
As though no real woman might manage even which him
Who ever he is she next raked sour
Of all that is holy in Allah’s real hour
As though no real woman might manage
To learn in truth of that mental state
We need all fear such as is her false gate
That tricked the world into needing to keep
Women as girls
Beyond the natural condition of that state
What will be her fate
Yet this time is it a real plate
For I see her the Queen of Sheba might be late
If not eaten alive by Mohammed
Since in his worth is her bind
That she did separate in time
Mujahideen now Australian
From all others of Islam’s origin
And those Australian in Islam
Separated from all other Australian
And what might thus
Become of all of us
When the world will realise
Of the prophet’s will
Is Revelations still Qur’an’s meaning will tell
We are nothing if not in that well
So let her crocodile’s lies
Not put you in her disguise
But find that a snake
Ate her bait
Then woke up Dreaming
She’s a cat in her every meaning
And this my pen
To her mind
Might not be soon only seeming
But truly found to be wise
Since the letter will arrive
By which she finds
Herself to be all lies
Of the feathery bull ant shit kind
Yet the message of this poem
Is far deeper than you might have known
For her blockage thrown
As though a gate open blown
Has caused all Islam Hope
To sponsor American rope
Yet in which
You might find this
Two keys there are
To how to read it
Open your eyes
And when ills are described
Make them visible
Yet never heard still
Make for to remember what we need forget
Without yet one breath spent
And yet
She’s a big night mare’s hill
Of the moon’s sorrow to swallow
For Mohammed’s tomorrow
There at Yirrkala now still
On TV’07 for me
To impart Allah’s will
Let us un-disguise
Be Really Peace-y Pond in we
Be Re-guarding Peace of the Sea
Bee Re-late a Pea I See
How many Pacifics in me
Is none too many to see
She’s stuck tight with to
A moon man whose face I knew
So traced well this to who do
That Mohammed’s words knew
He that receptive only so through

“Peace of the Pacific well found
Ohm Mani Padme HOm
The tale is just begun
Let Hope make it a long one
Faith is certain
Love will rule the weather
Yet for ever a curtain” In letter is bound when this day after found.

But who are you to me
Said the queen
Believe in me
For I have seen
Came out of her mouth
Yet without
The crocodile unseen
That her cat's lock obscene
Could not lick my snake's breath clean
Of her incriminating whim to
Make all night not to Allah
But for you
As though you too
Her kill did do
That you wanted
Whatever
Might through me
Be no more her pleasure
While she quietly cried
You want better
As though of hers the pleasure
This is my bet
You all might weather
Better is no less than
Forever
Never more pleasure
Than no more sin
Ever could begin

I do not
But forgive
Law abiding
True Law: Kabbalah: Shari'ah way
The word will make her day
Bless Sheba's Queen
My two shoes
She forgave Allah the moon
That men may rejoice herein
Have much gratitude
There is no need that you
Alike as Ants will to do