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(P)Luck

(H)ole (M)ills

By Paul BeckettPublished 3 years ago 1 min read

(P)Luck

House’s high disguise un hidden,

In recovery, yet in plainer sight,

The futures rolling out plausibly.

Inevitability of positivity. Inside,

Plots, thicker than any discipline

Lurks ransoms requirements to

Redress imbalances, a blessing.

As entropy innerstands equality.

Tuck-away regardless charms,

Signals to disarmament sound.

He’s scared also, in quiet states,

Moments, doubting everything.

Not ignorant, but in connivance

Incarnate. It’s bluff doubling,

Down, fearing tears of clowns.

In darkness his dry eyes bleed.

In concluding, ‘withouts’ fear-less, not worried of loss coming.

It’s those with most, that stand,

On mounds of billions stolen,

Seeing the erosion of occulting,

As an insult to their legacy of

Illicit cunning, running as water,

From them, summing to nought.

The natural order, which has been subverted, tolerates only,

Pockets of punditry momentarily

Ecosystems favour equality’s

Evenness. Eventually it will overcome,

Greeds gravity to cause clumps, then flatten free.

As osmosis, un-concentrating!

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About the Creator

Paul Beckett

I’m a writer, horologist & joy filled explorer. Reality to me is plastic. I’m fascinated with time, quantum physics, analogue and fashion.

My writings at least 69% autobiographical, often 99%

Fav:Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams- S.Plath

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