Thinking About It - a quickly typed poem

Thinking about thinking about it,
this is the quintessential conundrum
of the procrastinating persons who purposely
proceed in pestering the indifferent.
Seldom is it susceptible to be forecast
as righteous, for the impression forbade
by such arrogance grants only gratuitous
returns and beckons that masses shutter
the calling out of respect for the persecuted.

Thinking of shrinking does nothing
to bolster the amount of time it takes
to grow, tucking head in sand only suffocates
and drowns by degrees of heat stroke
as sun cascades against particles of rock
and makes the most giving of prophets
headaches that they can never recover from.

Thinking that pseudo science be permissible
in a court of law, makes ridiculous quandaries
available for scrutiny. Hell has gifted judgement
on the judgmental, and yay they walk two
by two, the animals scream, and nary walk
through shadows, destined toward despondent
destitute death, where God waved a hand
and said, not today, no vacancies for vagrancies
but contradictory declarations happen in books
written through ages and mistakes of men
are multi-modal, are multidimensional
are multiplied seven times seventy and gracious
hosts are lying about giving the damned a chance
to repent should they so choose such recurrence.

Thinking long and difficulty at statuses of stardom
the man in high court seems complicated
by simplicity meanders about his mind as he judges
contents of skin above character akin to way
we deem spiders disgusting but seldom account
for ways they pester the pests, and change environments
for entrepreneurial spirits who gather regularly
to talk of communal communist commiserating
under the guise of peace love and understanding
that declaration of independence.

Thinking we hang too hard to bills of rights,
when it comes to amendments that honor our killing
machines, but ignore justly that happiness is deemed
important in the eyes of our founders, and love is deemed
important in the eyes of our fathers, how often
we judge, lest we be judged, ignoring planks headlong
into eye sockets extending far out like tree trunks
of red woods, causing mayhem as we swing
from one section of annex to other, beating our neighbors
who were watching televised impeachment trials
that amounted to no more than dog and pony shows
but even those deem winners or losers, when out
side the outcasts are suspected of disobeying holy
men laws, while declaring Jesus said this,
amounting to a pissing match between a multitude
of liars who know better than plainly what is writ
in spoken parenthetical about the deposit of sin
on hold over from years of tribulation.

Thinking that history repeats, and repeats, wash
cycle deemed cantankerous, but we soil our souls
with unwashed remedies, defecating on the fabrics
of our livelihoods, and those living in our friends
spirits, as we execute everything for the sake
of something we deem tangible, but remark we want
no one trampling on us, but fail to self examine
fail to elaborate when we are tongue tied for being
called out as what?