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Words like pedals
Dieing leftover parts
Meddling in their wavering form
She speaks like the others

Ghosts in several lands
Speak like martyrs
Trading their sheepish night
She speaks to the water

Tell them they know anything
Tell them they are right
She paused
The cat was late
They told him in was five-fifteen
And sent him to their mother’s

Sisters spark wavering told like a shapeless mass or filth
And never more than one day short they brought the mystic reign
When they could have reasons for a simple pathogen
That marked their cross
A way, for them, to innocence

There was a water sent for gasoline matters
Spilling their times they send people to mine fields
They know it is important to treat them with cause
For they are bent like a road
That is perfectly still
And the trees are all made to be righteous and real

So taking their wandering mind from the shattered fall
Speakers that can be unkind watch their palace fall
And surely there is some kind left inside the man
For I speak with wrath for the peaceful encounters left
And I speak with charred lands and remembrance of the fallen

There is no palace that can save you from your sin
There is no ending that places you to begin
You will have to live down every last plan
And you speak calm like a dying man
Dressed in his pain

Sincerely, Jack Sanderson

To: Dick Cheney

I have put off writing this letter for a long time, mostly because I don’t like you.

It will publicly announce your acceptance of guilt for your actions and suitably your afterlife will be less horrific and will gradually get better as you make the proper decisions to re-establish your existence in the creators world. You see, Dick Cheney, it is like we have signed an agreement with the creator in which you agree to respect the world that created you. We are also bound by this contract to abide as a team.

You were obviously very little more than a “one person at a time” murderer for the 500 years or so since the last great advancement. Thusly, you were given all the power in the world at the time of the next great advancement of humanity. Because of your actions with all the power in the world (mostly just weaponry and fame), especially your war on God, you are booked soon for a transition to your afterlife. This is a stick in the eye to you from immature spirits that God loves. It is that you can see the future for a moment and always remember how you tried to destroy it.

Although most people stay in God’s world, reborn soon after death and filled with happiness, full of good things and nice feelings, you, sir, due to over 3 million casualties of war, will have a damnation reserved for special cases. Once you arrive in Summerland, (which has already happened because you are reading this and I saw you), the flight back will cause you to have a difficult dream because in God’s world there are many people everywhere you go that don’t like you. Power was initially discovered (this life) as a great way to be popular. It was really because of your friends you joined the CIA.

You will know this, because the time has come for you to feel guilty, and because you hear my voice in your head very often and know what I am about to say yet still want me to be cool with you, the time has come for paradise to fall. There is nothing in the water here. This is not such exodus from Babylon. I have told you for years that eventually you will die of natural causes. It is God’s will, and it is so people like you some day go away.

Genocide is the kind of sin reserved for few psychopaths. I feel that you must really want to do it for a number of lifetimes. Surely you endorse the actions of yourself without the opportunity, an also famous man name Jeff Dahlmer. His wish is God’s command and you were given your chance to make up for sins. You could have fixed this planet but you used the opportunity to commit as many atrocities as you could in a lifetime. You and your friends are responsible for more torture than anyone who has ever been sent to me.

I’m afraid I cannot be your lawyer,

Jack Sanderson

Dear 2012,

Please don’t be the end of all time. Could you please just bring us into the light? Could this be the revelation and return to light and not the destruction of all time?

Please quit scaring all these conspiracy theorists into frenzy. They are sometimes dangerous people that will get very worried about the end coming. If you could put an end to this dangerous paranoia, that would be just wonderful.

I’ll wait.

Jack Sanderson

title for this post 2

To Thadeus,
Misdirection masks my permanent vacation. Also, the cave is filled with drawings because I finally have patterns on my shirt. Three times in the past 400 years I have come here to stay. It is a wistful a long voyage from England. I have been back two times in this life and I can get there in a day. The age of magic has begun!

These lines are out now. Like the dreams before them and the tragic friendship, these lines are now crossed. The hope is that people who are mindful can be caustic like the others. Neither people’s hope are interpreted. We are all fired for their final increase. It was that they it wished to be a one-step process towards those who need their minds undone. We are not the illness, because the illness is of some the art of lying about feinting.

I like my job. I like to be here for the day. With all the reasons I walked forever, chalky white and making their way towards me I resented the oppression. Chasing the orchard with wandering sensation, these shows are heavy set with the oppression.

Is it better to give coat racks hats to keep them safe or to let nature take its course and their decisions righteous? Would they also be patient until they need their hearts to lead them away?
Myself, I sure hope the coat rack is around when I get back. I want him to be okay, as he got out when I had to go to work. There is a big scary road nearby and it is final, that term. But he cannot be caught. He won’t give them a cent for their apples. That is in fact why they set up the BC Tree Fruit agencies. Why do coat racks even like us, wise as they are? Worlds change us and before the fall, Thadeus, she charged that he had left water outside. He cares about me just fine, as a careless mind would.

Right now he’d just be a latchkey kid. Keys in a child’s hand regard the absent parent in a good home, where the children are great. I was one like that, and I did not have reason to fear except belief.

Wind them up, like legitimate people, these harpies with their fine widgets, with all sorts of white sovereign nations. We love you, and it would be a shame if you got hurt. It is a grand life, Thadeus, if you choose to live it. You must explore, but moreover you will have to hang out with the good guys. Make true friends, kitty. Play with the dog. Be safe Thadeus, and if you see the coat rack, send him back home. We have a show to perform at 7:30.

And I wonder, Thadeus, can we wonder?


-Ancient Cizzors-

Dear Waterberg,
“Here is some niceness from their turbine, harps that dry their wishing well, these are their own water bags,” they needlessly speak gibberish. “Knife in his painting, she sees the shine, the people on their minds hope they were walking into here. There are people who watch the folk, they need people here who have been waiting a long time for these dreams.”

The firm of investors stop to listen, there is a moment of pause with she calibrates what she will say. There is a hope that this procedure will get her off their trail. It is like a filibuster sent from Mr. T to the rest of the actors so that he gets his face on the cover of the movie.

She replies, “History does not start 150 years ago. These parts were populated long before then. Perhaps it is difficult to get historical information from those people, as they do not want us to know their secrets and the information has been told orally. Like our history it may have been altered towards allegory. They may be tales made fantastic, and beliefs like our ancient beliefs, of fantastic creatures and magical powers.”

The first investor replies, “Magic was made illegal over there. Here it is commonly practiced and accepted. The same will happen with your new computer and the digital art world. It will happen each time you invent it. One day, you will not know what helicopters or airplanes are. They will be your tales of Dragons and Thunderbirds. Only our firm will have them.”

“There is talk in mystical fiction of living with dragons,” the second investor states, “and also the knights are kings who slayed them all.”
She spoke before the third could and it angered him, “Is this story, which has been passed down through generations for a lond time similar to the myths of Thunderbirds and Shapeshifters?”

“These tales are true, you blasted witch!” The third investor shouted, “Your magic tablets, with their important tones and words meant to hypnotize, I believe you have created something black.”

The fourth investor said to her, “Just because of the innate evil of many humans and because your magic tablet is hypnotizing and misshapen, this will mean pain and suffering to the human race. In that hands of a good person it can play music and browse movies, but in the hands of a bad person it can browse thoughts. And surely many evil people will learn this hypnotism, such that they can browse thoughts just by speaking. For this reason your kind of new magic is also banned. We will keep the tablet.”

With this she was escorted out of the room.