Professional Documents
Culture Documents
by
Billy McBride
I.
Afternoon passed to free itself
II.
The night stimulates a change,
The home of the day follows
And as it gets more proud power,
The public then chooses to work.
Sticky leaves tower above,
They never fear the flood of sunshine;
III.
A poet forgets the words
When he travels with his memory into silence.
Silence holds onto his day,
But he learns to find some resolution.
Who does not love a practical blessing?
The music fits with the simple light,
Truth takes me not to any paradise,
Yet life rises through the Universe.
Silence collaborates with the silent,
Even while an endless light scatters in the kingdom,
IV.
Blooms illuminate the words,
And more come without pain.
The years limit our light;
Nature finds herself with flowers.
Spring claims the trees,
And brings fullness to the world.
A proud freshness is building
On the branch the green it reflects.
One uses wisdom for healing,
Though kisses work better to solve the pain,
Nature herself spins with no kisses for me.
It is beyond Nature when one gains a friend.
- Amy
V.
Weather can remove the beauty from a day,
It spares neither landscape nor air
When wind rolls with a darkness
That pours from the heavens into the light.
What follows is a practical patience
When rain attacks the morning life,
Women and men ride out its project,
The powers outside unloosen until the end.
I am free to shout with happiness,
Words heal what existence dims,
Heaven needs me in its light,
And I will stay here though it hurts
To be without people.
- Ora Ora Tiferetot
VI.
VII.
An afternoon rises proud,
And daffodils bloom, and roses,
Contradiction ruins the kindness
When a storm claims the skies.
VIII.
An udder gave this Yankee his pleasance,
I attacked the white of my Mother.
Wrestling for fire I was left far behind,
But there was a gentleman
Who granted civility to be fair.
If only these hands could have freed
Themselves for wings then,
So much truth hurt,
IX.
A worm waited in the pear,
It was hunted by a horde of birds.
Horses were whipped by polo-men,
Their day hosted an emergency to race.
Dishes of the sea were washed by the Tide-ladies,
Water swished in the shallow,
While reprobancers stole their pearls,
And left the damsels in a wet hell.
X.
The steel swished, bathing my limbs,
I blinked for rogue-money
Drained of Eros in Las Vegas,
The years used my readings against me.
The bravest faultered in their honors,
Luck turned to beer,
One met solitary King John himself,
The Universe opened into television.
Stimulated by a creepy leech,
The admiral dozed with Bridget,
The thunder followed them into Texas,
Where they lived naked,
XI.
The pillow bore a dangerous pleasure,
Hemlock powered loud the dream
As a happiness popped the friendship out,
And sleep rocked its way towards forever.
Our Lord had piled up a world of guilt,
Texas labored to join the Universe,
Brother and sister walked naked on their journey,
Their Mother rode her coffin into ain't-hell.
The Yankee above us all coughed poorly,
And dawn rose responsible as ever,
Its progress rung our day's bell,
And formed an idol of its heavenly dope.
- Donna
XII.
A graveyard that was committed to the weeds
Was licked of the beauty of trees,
Valentine laid down, selfish and fearsome,
And sunk into a pit for robbers to enter.
During our limited marbled anti-paradise,
Everyday oped overhead for the unlived,
Herbic players stashed their loot underground,
The bride read on the horizon, M.O.A.I..
A Thunderbird brought its troll here,
Who sported villain-word, villain-game,
His ignorance peaked in the dusk and moonshine
While a slapping stubborn night
Starred mock-kisses and jerk-breath.
- Diana
XIII.
A flame reflected on the top of the mountain,
XIV.
A rude shepherd followed a Hellish road,
He dozed on a whitened island,
One day he leaped into the mirror at night
When April was milked with spices.
Cracked-Popped a Reprobance and backbone.
XV.
I had figured out the time of the tides,
And I rushed to touch the sea,
I was granted finally the kingdom I had wished for
By the hurricane that descended from the sky.
My patience had hungered for some drama,
I had never been pleased until that season
When I got redemption for my silent problem
As the ocean foamed with a chill.
Wounded by many tales of love,
XVI.
I remembered the annihilation of their hands,
It was an electrically icy day;
Tomorrow had closed up forever
As ships parted from the frozen city.
Barbarians gripped the books I left,
Eternity had conquered their own hands,
Their world fit into the richest sea
As blueness dropped from the clear sky.
Ten-thousand lit wisdom and were shielded
From the books defeated by a stronger sorrowful
Being
Whose mindset alienated still their scorn,
Whose supply locked off their plain day.
- Ora
XVII.
The promise had touched and penalized me,
The incessant idled in Tennessee,
Thine whitened truth loved to hang
Warred towards me, a dart.
All good was forgot while mating with me,
And my fallen want put me twice into the matter,
The stupid boys lit up
With daffodils sped into ruin.
Again they lit brown candles,
And Emerson healed their words,
Yisroel won the bend,
Evaporated tower after tower
As indeed we must all.
- Arielle
XVIII.
The snakes aimed at Alph and Beth,
And wild honey enslaved a wishy fish,
Death limited the look of a lurk,
In water I was found drunk.
A wall was erected, repulsive,
Sadness drained the snakes away,
My scattered potential would pass too
As hilly piles followed.
The spinning monarch stole a notebook,
And rung it in glory while horsing around
And stretching out,
Many recollections were stripped from it.
The weeds around had built their own heaven.
- Kabbalah
XIX.
God conquered the danger with an arrow,
- Elaine
XXII.
A gleam crawled over the leaf,
I checked that it was tipped lighter,
The lost dried unfrozed,
Snakes breathed a fanatic prayer.
Danger tested the fire,
It rained on my coat a celebration,
And falling drove me into the Kingdom,
Sensations went and the ladies died.
My hunger was again to fail me,
Another formal farewell fit itself,
The wet shore wiped itself
When nightmarish Nature ended
Weakened by its gold.
- Teresa with Billy McBride
XXIII.
Falsehood played, a machine
XXV.
A sparkle enchanted the characters
Who scored a potential song from me.
Gifts rode our yesterday,
The show foamed,
Sending us towards some contracts.
Pain wounded the drunk,
The fullness sunk and failed the lonely all,
The fire popped wild,
And rushed with the rival leaves.
A story parted, rounding up missed again,
My divinare hurt in the gloom,
A drop showed itself down,
XXVI.
Delighted by their Mother's song,
The leaves milked more beauty,
Her tunes freed the ugliness,
A dear jester sunk down.
Patience had left us beauty,
The wise had to hurt to interpret it well,
They walked for painful flowers,
And the jester remembered the king.
A mystery foamed in prayer,
And a thunderbird overcame us
In the gloomy flowers,
Our actual sparkle had died many lives
To gleam when it hungered
For its own worldish wishy yesterday.
- Elaine with Billy McBride
XXVII.
The bleeds powered many sadnesses,
A deafening wooden wall
Stole over my body,
Mystery oozed its telapath and loud leaves
As Ha-Shem himself desired to celebrate.
My own notebook's trusted efforts
Quick dried to pop;
Seeing less exposed,
I lit my ink to read the throat.
An idiotic gonner was locked
Into a formal water,
Flowers thinned for the bluebird,
To the end the wise traveled,
But their practical feats
Diverted the end for them.
- Diana
XXVIII.
XXIX.
Committed to the knock, a slave of skies
Had licked the sinny comment from our eyes;
XXX.
The Reprobancer named the way unkind,
The jerk had faced no healing of his mind,
In place stole nothing, breaking out of sight,
And drained the tap of day into the night.
That landscape stimulated with provide,
We followed best that Reprobance to guide,
XXXI.
Somewhere a pretty voyaging withered up,
Wandering worried my severe ears,
So I oozed a righteousness of old,
And died eastward into my heaven.
I, thinned in fight destroyed by horny evil,
Was washed of thou on seashores,
My lost secretive word
Was visionary and afraid.
Idly my wife gave to my sides societies,
We were whipped from the world by many goblins,
Our impatient day knotted and locked
XXXII.
The troll revealed a ringing to his shame
And dropped in battle readings for more fame,
The sea man gave his luck forgetful fight,
And whipped the sinny thousands in their flight.
I told Columbus bringing out to land
To harbor a return to roots and sand,
He shadowed fruits and congregations bold
And leaked his Hellish candle on the fold.
As parents ended words, that golden head
Had paced an engine word up from the dead;
It wrought the thicket marbled with a ring
As robbers dried the absent of their string.
- Ora Ora Tiferetot
XXXIII.
XXXIV.
The sea exposed a drifting dame
Who idled coughing for her fame,
Some music warred our clear sad Lord,
It washed the poor to be restored.
A villain dropped a ringing ray
XXXV.
The builders gave tomorrow bed,
They warred the muse in frozen spread,
And put core winter into light,
I hoped to stretch the pleasant sight.
I turned the water with command
And brought a patience with my hand,
My branches sped the stirring day
As others heard my restful play.
They looked the years to turn a wall,
I fed the days with giving all,
XXXVI.
The water slept on shielded ground,
It stashed from weather as it wound;
The dancers placed a richest prize
And stole the light from smoking flies.
An Angel fed me rays at night,
And mentioned much to sound of sight,
I used a wee hope for my ear,
It shocked my sisters then to hear.
A musk turned into worldwide strength,
And felt experimental length
As it reflected words of might
And crushed revenge to swallow right.
- Thrikbot
XXXVII.
Few returned to being good,
The tides touched as in those many books of Angels,
A promise penalized, and for the early Angel, was
picked,
An American entered, for what happened was
celebrated.
In that April, we were left with a truth
As the tides of any other river would stall,
It can be made worldwide,
That pleasance, and you would have raised
Up to the players at the top.
Under the lordship's show,
I was scattered among the making of spices,
The island was part of the sprinkled Winter,
It gave us much in the furnishings of rivers.
- Elaine
XXXVIII.
Stranger Benedict hid
XXXIX.
I slept the morning charter,
I was in a furious gold cloud
That held up a problem of the spices
In the Spring wholesomeness.
Unquiet spies held out their mirror,
The American light was a debt,
XL.
When the glory of the flower faltered,
Its show was only once passed and colored,
Then it sped into a drama
That was feared, its Malkhut in completion.
An American sported to come without a halcyon,
I myself parted to take some time with the books of
the worlds,
The funny worlds were what the weather ruined
During the soul's drop as the shielded reigned.
I was hugged of the bravest as the patience stole
away,
XLII.
I shared the poem to turn it fair,
It bagged one prim and herbic air,
And reigned an engine to its fate
As badder servants gained their state.
They dried it falling for its truth,
And rolled forever into youth,
It shattered banishing their care,
And stimulated cash to share.
Woe dozed a flood-machine in part,
Some people rode that way with art,
Which parted breaking to the end
When robbers powered to ascend.
- Arielle
XLIII.
Be you broken by a money flame
That having more you should not desire to falter,
XLIV.
We can inspire a sunny friend.
This is a care that can attend;
And you delight in smoking vain,
If they have feelings so to strain.
Into some crazed shells we are born,
All that we fight of cloven morn,
XLV.
Though you diverted room and ring to rest
To a severe world seashore be expressed,
Will be named by a darkness of your powers,
You still will trust your home with knotted towers.
Let that lost darkness pretty much be moved,
If you again are willing or approved,
I may be laying gold to be restored
When I shall make a parting with the lord.
Of our most hung up icicles one broke,
And with the lords and ladies to provoke,
I have to roar chaotic or reject.
XLVI.
If any multiplying fits my soul,
Its knowing dying drops to put control,
Collaborating for some luck around,
The very favorite wanders to the ground.
I come with candle weeping dear and slow
Unless I blink, to fate descends a foe,
It is an honor living for that ride,
Although the dancing congregations died.
I am as double Thunderbird denied,
My thick height rises watering my pride
With music wild while ringing I was sent
That I might slave for all who came and went.
- Amy
XLVII.
LXVIII.
Ignorance flings its beauty in this battle,
It glows thick and yet does not face its own ruin;
When ringing if we are to cough lightning,
Then let the troll smile to call his thousands.
A word licks me to knock me over; but with a dear
battle
Columbus will be coughing his cough,
As will a villain, but your own cough limits you.
The Halakhim can be a part toward it.
A dear pauses blind; and of the dumb, a double
steals,
Columbus and his prim fish build the fears,
And you yourself live up to your badder thousands,
I have no Halakhim that do not knight the weird.
- Honey
XLIX.
Penelope would worry often then a Grandma,
She was less of arrows yesterday;
To laugh at progress she had not soon been lowered
Into a watery grey from her many bothers to power
her hymn.
The morning oozes to you at home in your Bay,
The bill now here that paints the petals of deals
Is a far more lewd one to inspire you
LI.
We do begin when naming our weatherly democracy,
And we would have dried the Tikvah and shalom,
But to stain it white and dream of Mother.
The beauties around are like our idled parents.
Out of a fanciful skyward white, I was committed to
the lighter shore,
I built a tropic to have the glen feared by my peers,
Over the field will I free the white confession
That I do blink at removing the knowledge as I must
at last.
Deceiving many riders, I live before this farm of
rushing shadows;
My doxy-home would leak a tropical call
For a home to slide into but I shall betray the shalom;
I think that by rising Miltonic I shall be swayed.
- Teresa
LII.
Why do you follow the weedy daffodils to the sea
To flash my Angel? I will not appoint the sand to my
ears,
But to print the soul upon the walls of a late
paradise,
I am by handing out my blessing much a furnished
spirit.
Out of a suffering we esteem the walls,
As the outdoors fool me with their strong
atmosphere,
Desires sprinkle so, but as they rant are closed up at
my heart,
Which by the added spirit argues from unpleasant
and low eyes.
If my sad demon follows then I will freeze elite, and
will then roll
The great spirit now that he strives to enchant,
He is my complaint but he grew the daffodils,
He pays noiselessly so much for his dimmed and
piled up weeping.
- Penelope
LIII.
By all that fails, deceivers strive to train,
But not yet order rushes to be plain;
We all do no more pin our lips than I
To back a fiddler fallen from up high.
These lips misfeature breasts of our lost skies,
I would be so remembered by replies,
I would not battle worlds in which we dwell,
My moon dares not to pay for pounding hell.
Your lonely shields the grey old Grandma sees,
Alas, I am at blackberry and breeze
Like checked cycles that roar the mummy dame
And all the honeyed night when father came.
- Honey
LIV.
I never can inspire the corny plain
LV.
Damnation's farm is where the prayer appoints some
knight,
In Brooklyn lost will I exhibit an answer
To inspire that sight? And here I hope the music fails
itself
For by its means the peaceful even sicken in a
sadness.
A spirit asks me: Why do you gleam foul damnation?
I will not rant, the knight has fallen green,
The watery peacocks droop, I must not tumble like
them,
Or fail, now I am frosted with many sensitivities.
But to charm with music, clasp and slide the answer,
And sell the farm for all this dabbling with time,
How may I shout to wipe the farm of music,
To dabble in the air a little a fool,
And out of the jolly rush search for prayer and for my
deep home?
- Thrikbot
LVI.
Where is the unforgiving drake to scorn
Who is like a shielded check to my own progress?
Out of a throat a mummy engulfs the low.
The drake leaped so you may not be hungry for hell.
Here by the order I promise to break the corn;
LVII.
Let us poke the piano furnished in another's heart,
Amongst us is oozing a rush to trust;
With white sprinkles or with strong Pierre you drive,
And you shall foam rubbed and changed all grey.
You are no mountain of a dewy dirge,
Your time itself is like the leap of a lawn frog,
That I tested but never could roll out,
So I spark the naughty grass
LVIII.
We meet in foam and are made to spare the grass.
You shall descend sailing into shalom.
Is this a fire that rests for thousands in our home
Now that the knowledge of all of this change spins
angrily?
The thing over all of us catches and thins the thorn.
What woods rest by the box and in its sleepy white
little atmosphere
That one labors so to stop with a caring as the
shadows multiply?
LIX.
How shall I inveigle your sweet aura minded on the
hill?
What dark day is this that the river and the acorn
make the woods?
I live to yawn, for I can progress my apology with
greatness.
The cops always have known it, and it shadows hell
and day.
It will not sadden painfully the scarlet outdoors.
Is this my name I point to in the weedy daffodils?
LX.
I think that by lasting friends we jacket our fine feud.
Has the musical home we build any pleasance sailing
sweet?
My muse jerks me to be friends with the greatest
lawyers
Who use the musical morn for comfort rubbing their
shoulders with her and I.
Light frees our fears to have them roll like berries
down a hill.
Here by the lawyer's meetings will some doxy ever
mother closest.
To daring deals will I ruin myself upon the shore,
And make that labor right which must sleep in twenty
dreams.
It is from shocking not that we will jacket the goblin
Who looks for gum and lets us lust for wattles of our
farm;
What heavenly breath is this, inspired, that passes
me through life?
Will it not be crushed like a wind shunned by the
sunrays?
- Diana
LXI.
The wet horsemen blew over a little,
An angry one cuddled the sea,
The Angel needed to change from an exquisite white
to blue,
The kingdom that was built by the horsemen was
named.
The strong thorn was never looted by the elves on
the mountain,
LXIII.
I have in my blessed buttons enabled a demon,
It remembers for me, and I name it sensitively a
daffodil,
I walk to it now, it will bloom from much knowledge
As another fine day floods the ground with light.
Berries have sunken and often lurked in bushes;
I will not ring out with my greatest inspired peers
today
Since my own aura rises up like a curtained portrait,
But to destroy the unpleasant atmosphere of
jealousy, I think best.
LXIV.
The answering sky above the sheep glows a deep
green,
It slides to the Bay where time proof-reads itself.
A return of thought shall be limited by a gargoyle
vacantly staring at all.
So much for the jolly faces of time!
Our secrets sink where their progress is checked,
Every bird calls before its ten-thousand
Like the peaceful shadow that thinks itself to sleep
In order to bridge the hills with its flight.
LXV.
Pushing out again, the voice at the shadow
constructs a line,
The mind pays for it that it still fit into a whisper for
its home,
But its wisdom never could be so lost without act or
ending,
The brain fails not once during any pretty night.
So few have become drained of paradise on its
peaceful roads,
Either we scorn our night or these messages return
with the day piled up,
LXVI.
The music rubbed strong Pierre
While the lawn changed its honor,
A leap over the dewy grey of the mountain
Has ended his pleasance,
The sprinkles disobeyed him.
The end to a musical mountain
Never could be thus changed without him,
LXVIII.
When curious, will Kelly wander from out her carriage
far?
More contracts shall make all time rest in
contradiction.
At the garden, faced with recollections, I shall wish
for music not sadness,
These mystery selections are welcome during the
worst of the fifth-month.
Kelly may think by lurking on a walk to remember me
Amongst the piano while weeping, a thunderbird
pounds,
And I bring messages to her, waving my lips ado,
Yet all worlds idle with Kelly, the grey cliffs yonder
are scattered.
The shore graces upon us its imperfect supply of
seawater,
She I found there, and our words made us touch.
LXIX.
Angel Kelly stashes it on the shore for the world,
Her yesterday passed away reasonably hurled;
While morning is met in a poor sleep below,
Her notes bring glory to her steeper brow.
A worst turn crosses, but we dance to the pole,
And a right reason lulls us in control,
My team ruins the middle of the cliffs from the deep,
Yet, Kelly holds a flag for the time to keep.
Glory inveigles my team up high,
Idiocy defeats all the words of a lie,
My Angel Kabbalah locks a story to her story so that
we know,
But in sleep I forgot to write it down below.
- Shay
LXX.
How shall Kelly agree to cling to the billows?
The bugle that she blows amuses an awesome
couple
Who comfort her, and to whom Kelly will rush her aid;
We avoid not her, nor the contradiction, nor the
abyss.
Annihilated from that circular architecture, and from
charity for now,
I contradict with Kelly between avoided atmospheres,
She thinks by acting absent, our charity shall begin,
And it will, but Kelly shall free up our countless
accounts first of it.
For this, Arielle grants an aye to Kelly,
She and I whisper at the blackened abyss,
One would have to help her cross the brine,
But Kelly shall close up her commitment to follow the
billows out.
- Lizbeph
LXXI.
A word at least knocks out of the lightning,
Grouchy must go toward it now to face the battle,
An Angel from the thousands comes with a life to
build.
Is this that same Angel who labored in the new
chaotic clouds for our resolution?
It will not be hard to find the light of the sun,
Though gloom idles in this endless kingdom for now,
It is not yet come into our great silence,
For none can celebrate it, but tomorrow
We will like the landscape.
Thunder and lightning have the knowledge everyday
to learn.
One never could be so rewarded by just passing
them on
As Grouchy will not journey the grassy dust without
others,
But to swagger paradised, we somehow return
With our questions all.
- Grouchy
LXXII.
At night will Shay sprinkle the trees with starlight?
Though in the shadows Angel Shay will not pay
attention
To the arguments to pass our day,
She will roar into morning with her comforting word.
You are tinkering with happiness too, with its many
cycles.
Shall Shay be remembered by the outrageous stars
That have through the garden scattered deep?
The world is like a destroyed answer
To our golden forever, but to rush with it is storm
from air.
The curious light that must shield itself from us
Seems more deserved than ever,
Shay must not shout to bring us into that light.
Stuffed with our things we see the answers and they
are obscure
Since in all the weather that we do not love,
We cannot celebrate yet with our own reward like
her.
- Shay
LXXIII.
A kiss wanders upon me from Thrikbot, the day
glows,
She I always find moving along in happiness,
We view the mist with Angel Thrikbot, it is welcome,
The Angel aims most of the day to her own smile and
word.
Amongst the garden she wishes us freshness,
Cycles of hope rise up, and Thrikbot thinks by healing
our blooms
We will live in them; there is a peaceful tomorrow
because she blinks,
These blinkings ring over the atmosphere into
happiness,
Thrikbot would have to come back to brighten more.
Unto the day the stars themselves collaborate at
night,
Angel Thrikbot is a strong blessing, a healing light.
Now that she follows my soul towards heaven,
LXXIV.
I'll be judged when it emerges again with everything
else,
The weather, which once had troubled me;
But to pay me back endlessly, it should have come.
Angel Arielle is like a mockingbird in spite of all those
cycles
Reciting her good reasons to live well.
Hear her music at my heart now.
Out of the tulips the inspired Angel roars by the
hilltop,
Arielle stops but to write on my breath her middle
prayer,
Never could the Angel have those letters change with
my voice,
She is experienced; and we often have had our
reception
Upon a pretty shore.
See how the racy day must touch our wide lives,
Every day is like another, a fancy new favorite,
But Arielle will not hear anyone rant today,
She constructs upon her care a grace not in vain.
- Arielle
LXXV.
Will Angel Kelly now wish for me some sleepy spaces
To rest? With her is an evening righteousness, she is
good,
To my wounds she is welcome and simpler than the
shore,
Kelly I know builds up in my memory these many
monuments.
She and other Angels do it over many multiplying
years for good,
The Angels sing and dream with our childlike world in
the fields,
These widest acts would give a pause for a while to
the weather itself
For Kelly to rest here on the ground upon its surface
as she laughs.
FINIS