A Rite of Passage

By W. Bell

This book is a symphony of harmonized thoughts for the express dissemination of both tangibles and intangibles, in the sense of aversion and gaining contentment of the mind; of the heart. It is a similitude of an inquisition patterned in the authors and the readers sojourn. The journey enacted by choice and decision. The veritable decree of free from self-introspection and determined succession. The passing on of knowledge through metaphor and simile to capture and captivate. Adverse commentary and strengthened communication lines in the favor of an enlightened guarantor. The learner, discerned yet sovereign for the said implementation of success. Derived intercession to mediate the process. A guide in the midst of tumultuous affairs, disagreeable friends, eroded bonds, and financial melee. This self-help will surmise hope and opportunity for increased vantages. It will increase your chances; widen your choices and field your opportunities. As light shines forth in the dark, this book can awaken and heal. It is a communication and an exhortation. It is proof of power and presumption. It shows the reader an awkward look at that past and possibilities for the future. It survives failure. It lives. It breathes compassion in prose, vigilance in admission, vehemence in austerity. Auspicious gathering and meeting of minds, reader and author, for the expressed consent to nurture; to heal; to begin. Miscommunication can bring assiduous affairs and tranquilized enticements. The promotion of identity at the expense of rigorous prosecution. Systematic dissonance versus righteous concordance. A look into the mind of the inspired and the aspiring. A side note to jurisprudence, a detailed caption of the hearing. The trial in every ones life; their remote time of incoherence under the pursuant. The enigmatic defendant; the truce ridden yet omnipotent assailant.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Apr 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781452569765

W. Bell

W. Bell grew up in Newark, New Jersey. He is the son of Willie Bell and Cynthia Bell. They resided in a home there. We believed in education of individuals and systemic maintenance of the person. Individuals meaning people dedicated to the enrichment of the whole. The whole society as a plausible reality that besets inconsistencies. Passion meets persistence and virtue is not inaccessible. W. Bell went to parochial grammar school. It taught the value of the person and instilled possibility through empowerment. Enstooling greatness was an intricate facet of the institution. Daily preparation of our psychological pallets was made possible by hour long meetings in the morning. They sought our secrets and married our souls. In the sense that the learning provided stature and sense. Truth be told, W. Bell admired the teachers and appreciated the students. For all that is said, he appeared drawn and discomforted, but cared for his colleagues. He believes in the potentiality of persons and stewardship of the credible. During high school, management and religion took particular interest. Giving presentations and announcements were fulfilling. While acknowledging the acuity of the intellect and pursuit of dreams, the idea of communicating with others was a real gift. Judging perception and creativity became tantamount. Shooing right and deterring wrong can become oxymoronic, but all and all W. Bell overcame. The bedeviling nature of happenings is upon us and through our communications we give direction. Purpose speaks and poetry gives us an underlying understanding. Since remembrance, the best years, the college years, are resolute and awesome. W. Bell, an author, appreciates his audience and cares for humanity.

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Copyright © 2013 W. Bell.

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ISBN: 978-1-4525-6975-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4525-6976-5 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 3/12/2013

Contents

The WORD

Notes

March 27, 2012

March 27, 2012

March 28, 2012

April 5, 2012

April 17, 2012

April 21, 2012

April 26,2012

The Island

May 3, 2012

G astro-, you bash Bro. Drop it in; a task Yo. Break the fast, huh. Melt the spazz, yup. The dash, crup; the lash, pup. Where’s the gas, tuck; quote the math, spoke.

Do the catapult; lost the thunderbolt. A son of the jolt; cheap name for the hold. A rhythm filled jam; an ill-gotten began. Stripped of Man; built in the damn. Figure it, a lamb; gone without a plan. The Maker’s Ram; fitted with the initiate’s minutes.

The solemnness of proper entrance. The intrigue of the disbelieved. The omission of the drop from contrition. A mound of mission; held in ill-repute the Priest who bequeaths. At ease, for the known lease. The humility of the Holy; the silly gettin’ told. The real were folded. The Bread looks molded; it’s spoken the actuals of the Contractual. Said Deluge, from the said Refuge. In case you didn’t request the best from the sepulcher; make mention of the replica. Its testing you; arm in arm, suspecting you. Fearless commands, rejecting you.

Do the knowledge; do the misdeeds of the Honest. Bring about Solace. Defend your Culture. Stratify the union of the fumin’. Deliberated Chewin’ instead of Emancipated Soonin’. Steaming, no buttress, beaming. Gleaming, light from the Sent, Dreaming. Beat your Head in, vying’. The Vote on the Trying, Denying. Do with Polish, the likes of the polis. Clean in between, seem; grow in the lien, mean; cheat the dissipate. Don’t incriminate; invigorate, remote simulate. The beginner’s fate, at a loss without the Cost. The Tribune comforts us all; it gives credence to even the deficient. Omniscient, ‘Poltergeist’, exorcised for those above the Trife. Life isn’t dice when we account for the unsaid. Like whom we lay in bed. It’s Dead the, room isn’t lead, its bled. Marriage indicates authority and perpetuity not promiscuity. Annuity, Triumphant before the Gauntlet. Its pungent, the odor from the Dungeon, vile types, plunging’, munching’. The breath taken by Ventilating’; Spewing’ the finds without focus on what’s behind. A host of Leaders, Teachers, followers hollering, yeah. A news report on the retort.

Respected; Saluted. Dejected; Recruited. It’s true, the few are renewed. The crew ain’t not viewed. The ferry wasn’t merry; the scorn wasn’t adjourned. That proves it, disjointed and muted. Anointed music, so scarce it’s suited. The move on the looted, pop the can, rebooted, alas the mystical offering; cantankerous coughing. No hope for the lost things. It’s costing, tiresome and gone, drowned in thorns sit back, Be Prepared.

Isn’t in no trouble; Get there in a double. Lost the Muzzle; took a guzzle. Fizzle, we sizzle; The Biz., isn’t any