Understanding Apples Press

There Are Three / Part One by JS Moore and the Public Opinion
(from the book Renting Pews by JS Moore, August 26, 2024
-read it as it is written…)

Justice serves its master
Oppressing certain social classes
Ensnare, entrap, and cause disaster
Chaos courtrooms sentence the masses
In-so-much as they’ve crossed the line
Thrown into darkness, shackles and chains,
Intertwined, complicit, snipped from the vine
Zeniths stolen. treasures sprinkled with brine
Ensuring fear keeps them huddled and tame
No protest marches for they are quietly insane.

Suggested Listening: Hands to Heaven by Breathe

Breathe - Hands To Heaven Music video by Breathe performing Hands To Heaven (Full Version).

The Son is Not the Father by JS Moore and ____________ August 24, 2024 (Still in Editing phase)

(From the book The Ballads of Ballad: Lyrical Stories from the Appalachian Highlands and Renting Pews by JS Moore. Read it as it’s written. No Artificial
balderdash and bu****it. No Sweeteners.)

Are we too poor to pay attention
To finer details lost in time?

Are we missing a million dollar comma
With all the lightspeed blur and drama?
Is Leia or Padme Amidala
Our Grand Mother or our Royal Mama?

This is no galaxy far, far away
In the recesses of the sublime
Is it the elbow to the wrist?
Is it the measurement of your fist?
Is it almost the Golden Mean?
We lack experience. We are green.
But it is surely not the divine.
No hell no it is NOT the divine.
Is it a formula in your mind?
Would Dave Filoni
Think it’s bologna?
Let’s see.

Do you know Luke? Do you know Anakin?
Not from the Bible but George Lucas’ mind.
Let’s step away now from precious Star Wars
There are other examples to find.

Oh, the son is not the father
In this case or the next,
Woke on a plane over the ocean
Enroute to an island of illegal s*x.
Hungover headaches, poorly vexed.
Possibly hexed.

Childhoods taken, innocence stolen
Prince Andrews playground, Jeffrey’s toys
Was it just the little girls these sick men tasted
Or were there also little boys?

Leverage is an unkind es**rt
Both for Trump and Kennedy
Where did they meet, but in some sick circle
Jerks flock together – never free
Always the lesser wannabee.

Don is not Fred. Bob is not Robert.
One was dishonest to a fault,
But he had reserves and riches in his vault
And leverage was his key –
The slumlord aligned with all the right people –
Whom owned the drugstore and the steeple
Chasing hurdles no person could ever leap
Head south way down to Florida
Where the water is clear
But dark and deep.

The other man was ably honest,
I would say noble and almost pure.
And they’ll say no he had a mistress
But this did not outweigh his saintly virtues.
It did not come close to counting him out,
But he was killed in a hotel kitchen.
“Don’t lift me up, but carry me on, may words endure.”
He would not witness the halted movement.
Or ever listen to that one Marvin Gaye song.
What’s Going On? But for inaction
And for the Powers that Be and their satisfaction.
He was gone, yes, moved along.
But well deserved he’s still remembered
for impassioned vision –
And wisdom strong.

Are we too poor to pay attention
To finer details lost in time.
This is no galaxy far, far away
In the recesses of the sublime
It is the elbow to the wrist.
It’s the measurement of your fist.
It is almost the Golden Mean,
We lack experience. We are green.
But it is surely not the divine.
No hell no it is NOT the divine.

Do you know Luke? Do you know Anakin?
Not from the Bible but George Lucas’ mind.
Let’s step away now from precious Star Wars
There are other examples to find.

You’ll be the man – you’ll be remembered,
They told them both and made their offer.
One became President in twenty sixteen
With a promise to raid Saudis coffers

The other man – with a real legacy
Struck a deal no one saw coming
Or did someone with open eyes see?
No also duped until the announcement
Would shore up votes but make believe
Bob always was the anti-vaxxer.
Bob always was found in the ditches.
Bob always was a little whacky
Bob always mooched off family riches
Slept with well known bi***es,
But these were actual animals.
And he would deceive.
Plotted out to steal another election,
Wool over the eyes in every direction,
But a fatal flaw was easily missed.

Would Epstein resurface on them both?

Are we too poor to pay attention
To finer details. Have we been duped?
Are we too tired? Are we still groggy
From co***ne or**es. Are we just pooped?

Are we too poor to pay attention
To finer details lost in time.
This is no galaxy far, far away
In the recesses of the sublime
Is it the elbow to the wrist?
Is it the measurement of your fist?
Is it almost the Golden Mean?
We lack experience. We are green.
But it is surely not the divine.
No hell no it is NOT the divine.
Is it a formula in your mind?
Would Dave Filoni
Think it’s bologna?
Let’s see.
Are we too poor to pay attention
To finer details lost in time?

Are we missing a million dollar comma
With all the lightspeed blur and drama?
Is Leia or Padme Amidala
Our Grand Mother or our Royal Mama?

Suggested Listening: The Imperial March by John Williams and Whats Going On by Marvin Gaye

From the book The Ballads of Ballad Part Two: Lyrical Stories from the Appalachian Highlands and Renting Pews by JS Moore. Read it as it’s written. No Artificial
balderdash and bu****it. No Sweeteners.

Marvin Gaye - What's Going On (Official Video 2019) “What’s Going On” (Deluxe Edition/50th Anniversary) Available Now!Listen Here: https://marvingaye.lnk.to/WhatsGoingOnDeluxe ‘What’s Going On Live’ Album Out...