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Lesbian Dating, Relationships, and Sexy Encounters
the Procra(S)tination Papers
 
there is never 'nothing to do', but with a little practice, there is nothing that can't be put off. "Never put off until tomorrow, what you can put off indefinitely". And in so doing, from some dark alley, comes motivation for other actions...activities....
occasionally...creative.
Keywords | Title View | Refer to a Friend |
pishawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
Posted:Apr 2, 2012 6:14 pm
Last Updated:Jul 8, 2012 3:50 pm
5944 Views

Can I borrow you
for a second
can I steal your ear
drag you
off
to a corner
where no one else can hear
and then just tell you
cuase to me
it's true

I Love You

and take it
as you will.....
cause
It just a thing..
that I gotta say
doesn't mean
you gotta change your ways

doesn't mean
you have to hear it
either
I just needed
now
to say it

to be me
3 Comments
preprepared resignation letter
Posted:Mar 29, 2012 7:43 am
Last Updated:May 26, 2024 12:46 pm
4723 Views
First,
I want to say,
that I have enjoyed
this experience,
this shared responsibility
and experiment.
Here
I have met
some very interesting
and honorable
individuals.

I use the word
"individual" here
intentionally.

When first I sat here,
on this committee,
and not as an observer,
during those required meetings
before I was appointed,
I got to know
first one,
and then anther of you.

Indeed,
through certain circumstances
I was allowed
to admire the integrity
of some few of you,
and in time
I know
I would have seen
that integrity
revealed over and over again.

We,
as a "committee"
are just so many individuals,
representing
that many more
individuals...
residents
of our respective wards.

And through our process
we learned
and operated
as a "body".
I am as proud of this body
as I am of Campaign For Liberty,
my first overwhelming realization
of just what that means...
to be a part
of a "body"

I do hope,
that in the future,
YOUR efforts
are something I can ponder,
as I work my
one
paper ballot.

My Ward,
is the Fifth Ward,
one that seldom offers
of its own volition,
someone willing
to approach this body,
and wish for inclusion.

During my tenure here,
I described my position
to the incredulous outsiders
as similar
to the Maytag Repairman.
"the loneliest job in town"

It's not
that there are not Republicans,
or even conservatives
in the Fifth Ward,
there are....
but rather
it is
that if those conservatives
poke their head out,
the result
is exactly that
which happens
in the 's toy
"whack-a mole".
They become
a conditioned response
target.

Even in the absence
of 'Republican officials
in this City...
all know....
all "democrats" know...
all BLACK democrats know...
that all evil
is the doing
of THAT other Party...

I canvassed
door to door
with a friend
running for office

we walked the North Side streets
we met with nods of ascent
to ideological tenets
and the political analysis...
"they"
could agree
that the fox
guards the henhouse

but they could not
get behind
ever
voting Republican.

This is ingrained
this is as strong
as a fear of the whip...
and yet
there is
no whip.

This
is what
a vote farm looks like.

And I will tell you
that in time
with leading by example
we can change this.

I have told Sharon
and thank you Sharon
for what you have let us all experience...
in your patience
in your guidance...
I have told her...
that the impetus to change this city
will come from North of Delmar.
Doubt me if you will...
I see it.

The Fifth Ward
is very much
an area that shapes how people think,
and uses those same people
as posty-notes,
always reaffirming
what is
"appropriate" political thought.
It is,
what we call...
a vote farm,
the anti-thesis of the individual.

And yet,
I am widely known in my ward.
There are serious property rights issues in my ward.
I am there.
There are serious corruption issues in my ward.
I am there.
There are serious issues of political retribution,
and again,
my neighbors know...
that I will be there.

They call me
to attend a hearing,
with my pen and camera.
They know,
of my odd line in the news article...
committeeman of "that other party",
still
they call
and they know
I will come.

That I will stand for what is right,
and against what is wrong.

I hope,
that my successor will do the same.
Otherwise,
the position of committee person in the Fifth,
is a pretty cushy gig,
replete with absolutely
no obligations.

I can be maneuvered off this committee,
I have been...
and I smile
because it amuses me whenever I motivate anyone,
in ANY direction...
I'm an artist
unformed clay just fascinates me.

but none of you...
and none of them
can remove me
from my recognition and responsibilities
in the Fighting Fifth Ward.

It is a sad reality,
that often
are
politicians.

But seldom
are
they leaders.
Forever,
they are a lot
that rationalizes
a small deal with the devil
to allow them
the promotion of status
that will permit them to do
some greater good.

The ends justifies the means...

I will tell you now...
the devil never forgets,
nor forgives
a debt.

As an individual,
returning to those seats,
where I will be often,
with pen and camera....
I hope you all remember,
that you ARE individuals,
and there are
your constituents...
all individuals...
counting
on your integrity.

Thank you for your participation,
your sacrifice,
your passion.
And more,
for me personally,
thank you for your very selves,
shared...
...at my access
to being able to witness...

I am
more human
for it.

There are those
who choose
to stampede
large numbers of the herd mentality
into teepees
of innocent impediment
for what might
be labelled as
"progress".

I pray
that you have
the presence of mind,
the surety of mind,
to stand....
and not run...
at any loud noise.

May God assist you,
and may you persist.

I leave you in admiration.

Thank You.

Mark Ogier
Fifth Ward
0 Comments
Keynesians
Posted:Mar 3, 2012 4:42 pm
Last Updated:Jul 8, 2012 3:50 pm
5116 Views
Keynesians
are the "creationists"
of economics.

Money
as a Faith based initiative.
0 Comments
Woman of My Dreams
Posted:Feb 18, 2012 5:55 pm
Last Updated:Feb 29, 2012 4:41 pm
5074 Views
apologies.....
I am now without utilities, except water. Which means that all I have learned from trailing the homeless, I am now trying to refine. I could have edited, but power is what I have in my short memory battery...
Maybe I edit it later.
Maybe someone actually reads it...
No promise, either way, that it matters....
but...
it is
about smiling.

Woman Of My Dreams

For three nights running, I have encountered complete fascination with a woman

in my dream. And as is usual with Dream, I cannot remember her whole, but

rather glimpses, and feelings. Is she the same woman, each dream? I could

argue convincingly either way. Surely appearances are stunningly different, yet

some sameness exists.

These dreams have come, and I attempt to identify how, why, because as with

most, I am addicted to dream. I opften turn a pillow over, as with a beloved

record album, anxious to get back and play the second side. I have always

desired sound while I sleep. In the past, it would be the television, but once

the government subsidized HD TV, another of Donald Rumsfeld's campaigns upon the

world ( another being asxpertame ), I let the TV go white noise. Now, I play

lectures that I have downloaded on my laptop, or White House press briefings.

When the electric is truendd on, they play over and over, and my dreams pick up

pieces whenever my REM appraoches the near surface, and vision from one side to

the other, takes on similar distortion, as if looking up toward the sky, from

beneath the waves.

The first night, I was listening to "What is Money" by Frederik Bastiat. And I

found myself aware, that I was "back" with her, a woman gone from my life, in a

place I "recognized". I "knew" that I was unexpectedly fortunate to be back, in

the best place of my life. It seems to be an island, as I walked through

continually changing scens, all a combination of walkways, stairs and beach.

People dragging boats in and out of the water, and occassionally the lecture

bled through into conversation from someone in the dream, allowing me

opportunity to reply. And while I cannot see her, I knew her... immensely.

The second night, there was a group of us going to The Landing, an area near my

building here. It is raining, the river is up, we are going to take pictures.

And there are two women, one dark haired, the other blonde, and I can feel them

both, as one, for a bit. In fact, at some point, the dark haired one is in

front of me wearing what seems to be spandex shorts, with the body to make them

irresistable. I extend my hand to cup her ass, and she wiggles in it three

times. I remember kissing her foot, and looking up as she stood, a tight t-

shirt of her well built frame, "FEM" stretched fetchingly across her chest.

But then I shift to the blonde who seems to have no face, yet I do not notice

this. Rather, I just cannot see, yet do not seem to need to. Whatever passes

in between, at some point later, the group is teasing that I was attracted to

her, as if I shopuld notnhave been. I can only reply that I ws, and that she

was gorgeous.

Last night, I was listening to "The Law" again by Bastiat. And I found myself

in a huge house, with endless rooms, and water was pouring through the ceiling.

I climbed stairs looking for the leak, then leaks, as one became stopped, and

then another began. A bedroom would have a pipe up through the floor, while a

bathroom would have no pipes at all. All this in the middle of the night. At

some point, I am on a couch, with "her". I am tired from being up all night,

she is sympathetic, as well as empathetic. We smoke, we lay close.
And then we go to a house, maybe her house... There are many people there, a

guy that I think is her brother. It feels like an elaborate family house,

complete with tenants with habits of idleness and excess. The brother is

brokering some sort of deal with me, that changes, I can't remember what I

denied, but agreed to an amount of hash for 20.00. Unbelievably, I think it was

an ounce. ( Okay, I was watching documentaries about the drug trade in

Afghanistan, and my rate of exchange might have been afffected )
There are details of keys, hers, hidden in a bowl above the kitchen cabinet, and

a glimpse of her brushing her hair. Her hair was long and tapered, down past

her hips, and curled... tighter than banana curls, yet looser than corn row

braids. And each evenly curled band of strands was colored in stripes of brown

and red. The effect was marble come to life, and I just see her, casually

running the brush through it, form her shoulder, to her waist.
As she got ready, I was back with the brother, and others. The house began to

fill, and I notice a woman in a very formal dress, silks, pink and purple, tight

to her body, but a huge puffy back. I remark to the brother, " Is it prom prep

week?". More people of similar dress arrive, and the group I am in recedes. I

walk through the main room, and about thirty young , eight, nine ten years

old all dressed in their Sunday best start tap dancing and singing a song...

to across the room a young girl, also dressed for a prom whose birthday it is.
0 Comments
metallurgy
Posted:Feb 13, 2012 12:38 pm
Last Updated:Mar 21, 2012 2:03 pm
5648 Views
a people...
are but like metal
heated
beaten
and bent
on an anvil
that in the end
imprints
it's curve upon them...

At times
the people's metal
is resolved
so much
that they resist
and shine
or more often...
shatter...
Either way
sparks fly

the anvil
then
and the hammer
are the constant...
and the smithy...

for he has no destiny
but to change
you...
met all,
all oy

shall you submit?
allow
be alloy?

Which matters more
how we come to be?
or how we come
to believe
that
sea ... of me
see you
prophesy past,
of flood...
is us...
our blood?
sparks short fly
in anvil's shadow.

elemental parts
no matter where
and always
thrust,
parry...
aggressive,
wary
which are we
really,
now?

We
born of pain,
living long
twinkie lives
ignoring
decay...
fearing
the peace of passing...
fearing
a life
well lived
well earned
and passage.
PEACE

FEAR
the g-nome PROJECT
that takes toll
from us
under bridge
OF TRUSTING the
total
all our years.

The first bells
were not foundered
but pounded
surely,
and we hear their peals
ever after
souls atoning
ripples
waves

as if our own bodies
dove
in water
leaving only
rings of promise
that we did indeed exist...
passed

What comes of us
really???
lest we play it
ourselves
only amongst ourselves?
truth
a posty note
from someone else...

for surely
any audience
is made of those
either
not yet knowing
or those already choosing
to never know..
who ever asks?

we
are pack animals
and we bay
louder
or not,
determining obeisance...

at his anvil
arm and hammer
passing
unalloyed steel
as sword....
has the smithy
condemned Knight
to his last day...

no longer artisan
nor partisan
he that delivers less
rationalized
he
by geld
but no eyes...
for value,

hammer and tong
heat, sweat,
a longing
but for what?

ancients practiced
what you perfect
yet you challenge
the chalice
with adulterous imperfection
only because
it passes the purse's
hunger opening
unperceived

unlike the holder
of the sword...
the holder of the truth
is not
up front...

He stands behind.
Only the true
sword
and smites
lesser swords
and stronger
hungers
for truth...
willing
to die for it.

He
alone knows
the weight
of a good sword
for he carries it
almost always
and offers it seldom
as an end
of challenge.

He, who
owns the anvil
that you
are ally
alloy
to....
cares not.

only the unalienable
defy the anvil
and only the allied
defy
alloy

I apologize...
to the dead..
the unalloyed...
for even deaf
only they
understand...

those that hear
choose against.

You can live forever
for naught

but you can only die well
once.................................................

truth
is never convenient
and it
never needs your lips
yet seeks it always.

when it is easy
They come
\with their hounds
their horses
and their whores

and you
what do you bring?

What have you?

What keep you?

What defend you?

from bending ore the smithies iron?

In a smart world

there IS A BALLAST
a lung
breathing
without heart
hearth
without heat
none could occur

May the breath of truth
on the anvil of justice
forge your sword....
1 comment
star food
Posted:Jan 31, 2012 12:55 pm
Last Updated:Feb 2, 2012 11:49 am
5410 Views
When I was young, I was a shooting star.
And what people saw of me
was where I had just been...
my tale...
longer than my memory...

...as they told me later
in their recollection,
I allowed
my reflection
to be amusement,
or truth
whichever
leveraged endeavor
I favored...
until such time
as speed
no longer
ruled.

inevitably,
inertia wanes...
gravity wins.

I found a "map"
of an orbit
the other day.
It was an early map
one that showed
the initiating gravitational pull
that captured me
for a spell...
a procession
of equinoxes.

Unlike schematics
of random legs
of a long long journey
I can still remember,
...feel the attraction,
each semantic segue
and segment of arc
still precise...
still precious...
as I bent
to core
aurora borealis...

I glow now,
not
as a streaking flame
not as a comet
more
a deep ember coal...
yet I know
with pleasure
that without preconception,
as I streaked into orbit
it all still makes sense...

having never
yet been there
I couldn't pass unpulled...
yanked
toward universe irresistible...
a moment immortal...

star food

We who leave little
have flared much
1 comment
oral fixation
Posted:Jan 23, 2012 8:10 pm
Last Updated:May 26, 2024 12:46 pm
4545 Views

What if information;
not only "truth"
but misleading public information...
HEADLINES
could be patented...

(and yes
there have been efforts
to patent headlines,
and then,
so forth, "news...)

What if
you are not allowed
to REPEAT
the TRUTH?

What if WE
can wash out your mouth
with SOPA???????
0 Comments
moon over my ami
Posted:Jan 9, 2012 2:17 pm
Last Updated:Oct 18, 2012 3:50 pm
5067 Views
watching...
your sleeping countenance,
the casual smile
that keeps me company
as I hear you
breathing
lightly in
and out
and I feel
the pull
of you
my full moon.

I realize...
I am grateful
that I survived my battles;
that I fought
the demons I could
and retired
to find
peace.

to find you.

my eyes greyed
by fires of conflict
...hands calloused
too long on the lance
but my heart
feels peace.

it courses
in
and out of me
slowly
like the tides
as I watch
you
rise.

time
leaves us in peace
shadows
slowly caress my shoulders
as the sun and moon eclipse
and soon
the stars
in your eyes
come out...

"good morning..."

and I am young
in timeless peace
once more.
2 Comments
all politics... are loco
Posted:Dec 3, 2011 10:54 am
Last Updated:Dec 9, 2011 1:06 pm
5996 Views
FIFTH WARD: NOT 'ROUND UP READY'

In this Technocratic age, where risk is no longer an acceptable fact of life to those who deem themselves "too big to fail" , a New Way of Life has emerged. It is the technological equivalent of the beliefs of one John D. Rockefeller, who professed that "Competition is Evil".

In Agriculture, we see this achieved chemically, whereby every living plant in a given field, is killed off with "Liquid Gold", and then, only these seeds engineered to grow within that toxin will ever bear fruit. There will be no grassroots, no organic growth. Only that preordained by the technocrats, to be 'round up ready'. ( or they'll evolve into "Superweeds )

In Foreign Policy we see it, when a whole nation is rendered asunder, its populace rounded up and turned out each night by armed parties searching for insurgents... where local War Lords are promoted to become corrupt Governors for the New Regime, theoretically to instill order, and allow for the "new seeds" that will grow in a toxic environment, and bear fruit.
This too, results in "superweeds". Call them 'terrorists', or drug cartels. The C.I.A. calls them... "unintended consequences". That's long for "oops".

In Urban Renewal, we see the same formula. Neighborhoods rich with the social fabric of family, friends and future, but short on economic wealth and tax generation, are bladed from the field by bulldozers, and politically propagated blight. It is a slow poison, consisting of the stemming of public services such as police protection, public transit routes, and street lighting; vacant buildings left unkempt, as shelters for drug dealers, sex offenders and prostitutes; land banking, and bureaucratic deaf ears turned to repeated complaints and pleas from concerned parents and residents. Local Ward Lords and politicians are made immune to the spreading ills, to act as plow for the seeds of the New Crop, all patented and owned by the genetic engineers, the public trough fed developers, and the politicians that for a tithing, allow them access to private lands, for private gain.

Such is the scenario we find ourselves in, today, in the Fifth Ward. We have been designated 'ground zero' for a huge as yet unfocused $8.1 Billion Mastercard Plan. Redistricting, after the 2010 Census, follows the development plan lines more than it follows the City Charter, or any rhyme or reason.

The Ward is Not a 'Preservation Review District'.

And the "Democrat" candidate for Alderperson, in this City Hall created need for a special election, is the committeewoman for the Ward herself, who along with her father, the committeeman, nominated her to be the "only Democratic candidate on the ballot". ( Someone should look up the definition of the word "democratic", because two other candidates ARE running, both Democrats, but now Independents, ... being labelled "anonymously" as Republicans. ("competition is evil")

The father, the committeeman, is also, through his own organization, a partner IN the development company, that has been filling political coffers state wide for half a decade. Much of that generosity raining on candidates immediately able to shape his development's future. No surprise that the candidate's brother received political contributions... from this same developer, and family partner, as brother was delivering a fat tax credit from the State.

But it hasn't worked. There are still clean seeds left. It is THE right to life issue, that natural seeds survive. There IS organic growth in the Fifth Ward, and indeed all across the part of the city known as the North Corridor... North of Delmar. It is not enough to have the written accounts of lost neighborhoods, such as Pruitt Igoe and Mill Creek, where the intricate fabric of society, though economically challenged, was erased from the face of the earth, in exchange for a healthier tax base, with some pretty healthy money changing well manicured hands along the way.

There are grassroots left in the Fifth Ward. Not everyone was gerrymandered out in the Rorschach redistricting that banished the outspoken potential candidates past to the Third Ward. There are citizens willing to stand up to the technocrats, guided by heart, and not by personal gain. And there are voters. Granted, we lost 18% of them to the first "round up" of redistricting, but we are still more than may be suspected.

Hear them answer YOUR questions in a public forum moderated by the League of Women Voters.
Show the technocrats and the paid off politicians that this is a community of HOMES, whether we own or rent, and this is not a land bank that can be gotten cheap, for some wampum and a few beads. Nor by genetic modification...
We live in a Ward. But WE are Not wards... not of the state, not of the city, nor of anyone else.

WE ARE... THE FIFTH WARD.

CHUCKtheFED
2 Comments
the beats go on
Posted:Nov 2, 2011 11:27 am
Last Updated:Nov 25, 2011 5:19 pm
4964 Views
I have always been attracted
to the
outside the lines
of a human mind...

later generations
might call it
graphic,
and novel...

I have been allowed
to meet minds
without the bindings
that civilization
requires...

sometimes forever...
some
for just a time...
some...
well...
let's just say
there is always
another
outside...

it is why
I
am
outside...

It can be postulated
that all that "we" know
was just an idea
that someone
took
from someone else,
and made
"popular"

Now THERE
is a term
to consider

in your lonesome...

"popular"

From the vantage point of desire
it usually requires
a promise
of some sacrifice....

you thought it,
mouthed it,
said it...

what I wouldn't give
to lick the boot
of "popular"

Most are too young
to understand..

the "beats"

They were before the hippies
and they understood
that to belong
you gave up

you were "beat"

it was never about music...

music was the remedy

"beat"
was what you were...
with our Pepsi dent,
roll-on deodorant
and dry cleaning....

Now?
you are just occupied...
pre-occupied...
with being
a part of the pack

and yet
since you are here
I will tell you
a truth..

I will point
to the true power...

and trust me

they mine
the outside for it...
just as I do...

a talent

You see
when it works
the most potent weapon
is you...
your lips...

you do it willingly,
or you do it
without thought...

but you deliver...

they aren't bullets...

we can trace bullets,
we can discover
where they are made

no
these weapons
strike even deeper
than a bullet...

silently
invisibly
and no one thinks
to trace them...

you...
Occupied you...
"Beat" you...
poet you...
posty noted you
to each other...

they "beat" you
WITH
you...

because you couldn't stand
to be outside...

and you mistake light
for a path
rather than a thieves device
to save time...
in the cloak of darkness...

welcome...

and thank you
for still
reading............

and not

righting.

It's getting easier
to see...
to read...

'Who's Who..."
2 Comments
OCCUPY...yourself
Posted:Oct 26, 2011 10:16 am
Last Updated:Oct 26, 2011 10:20 am
4356 Views
Occupy Yourself...

with this...

No matter which path you envision.
whether you see
Keynes or
Hayak ...
Trotsky or
Marx...
Thomas Aquinas or
Leo Strauss

you will need to define
for your self
the following

MONEY

DIVISION of LABOR

PROPERTY

IF
you decide your definition
and function
of these terms
you will argue
to your own best interest.

If not
you will
most probably parrot
someone you will never meet
and live in a land
you never imagined.

If you are a pawn
you only know it
after
you are off the board.
0 Comments
when gawd speaks to you
Posted:Aug 30, 2011 6:18 pm
Last Updated:Oct 26, 2011 10:10 am
5546 Views
there has been
for ages a term
"angel"
...patron of the arts.

And what this means
is benefactor.

One who finances...
which also means
the one
who picks and chooses.

I have no measure
as to how many of you
experience the desire
to create..
or even
how many of you recognize
that this is
what we all inhabit
as result
of our conscious existence.

We are bred to look up
our faces
wet
by rain
or feces...

and we smile
at the rainmakers
that result
in our own success.
It is not top down
that drives us, cedes us...
it is
that all look up
at the vanishing point
of the top
of the pyramid.

And why is this important?

Because it is the invisible hand
that we never see that affects us everyday...

From the Borgia's and the Medici's
to Disney and Soros
those with the ability to pay
to say yes
hold the inevitable arrogance
to say no.

As we approach yet another
"lesser of two evils" election
when
will you ask
who the FUCK
set this table?

Who gave us this choice
of chicken
or something
that
"tastes like chicken"?

Now
in America
we await another "stimulus"
This
will be the 'angel"
the Federal Reserve
a PRIVATE CORPORATION
deciding
who shall gain
from the new money
that waters the coffee
down
in all our cups.

Who ARE the Borgis'a now?
who the Medici's?
Who funds
what becomes
and who denies all
who thwart
the dynasty?

And you?
You do
still choose
yes?
You shave in this assurance?
That as you troop
off to Disneying heights
and posty note horizons..
that it is YOU
now
that decides?

I differ with your summation.
4 Comments
Revolver
Posted:Aug 29, 2011 4:46 am
Last Updated:May 26, 2024 12:46 pm
4426 Views
Ego
as a symptom
is very real;
but the debate
over its significance
universally accepts...
Consciousness.

I do not.

.............

If
I
have a fault
in the eyes of others,
it is
the measure of Will
that I posses
at varying times,
and in conflicting degrees.

.....

There are
more Truths
in our own Consequences,
than in all
of recorded History.

.....

Chess
is not a game...
It is a talisman.

Those that play
follow...
those that conceived.
And beyond that
apparent conception,
is true history.
0 Comments

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