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Julian Mar 2019
Tantalized by the fractious limerence of a vestigial habiliment of the old order, we conclude that hypertrophy leads to a limbo where random permutations alloyed by the rickety limits of concatenation subsume concepts that are equivocal but populate the imaginations of newfangled art forms that jostle the midwives of rumination to lead to unique pastures that are intuitively calibrated to correspond to definitive unitary events in conceptual space that sprawl unexpectedly towards the desultory but determinative conclusion of a meandering ludic sphere of rambunctious sentiments cobbled together to either rivet the captive audience or annoy the peevish criticaster when they dare to inseminate the canvassed and corrugated tract of intellectual territory created ad hoc to swelter the imagination with audacious ingenuity that is an inevitable byproduct of lexical hypertrophy. In this séance with the immaterial realm of concept rather than the predictable clockwork reductivism of a perceptual welter that is limited by the concretism circumscribed by spatiotemporal stricture we find that an extravagant twinge of even the smallest tocsin in the interstitial carousel of conscientious subroutines compounding recursively to pinprick the cossetted smolder of potentiality rather than extravagate into the vacancy of untenanted nullibiety can spawn a progeny of utilities and vehicles for dexterous abstraction that poach the exotic concepts we fathom by degrees of sapience malingering in lifeless bricolages of erratic abstraction in manners useful to transcend the repose of abeyance and heave awakening into the slumberous caverns of still-life to make them dynamically animated to capture ephemeral events that defy the demarcations of wistful indelicacy of the encumbered bulk of insufficient precision.

Today we embark on a quest to defile the anoegenetic recapitulation of canon that litters the dilapidated avenues of miserly contemplation that has a histeriological certainty and feeds the engines that enable novelty but ultimately remain rancid with the stench of the idiosyncratic shibboleths of synoptic alloyed impoverishment that leads to the vast wasteland of cremated entropy that is a stained foible of misappropriated context interpolated usefully as botched triage for daunting problems that require a nimble legerdemain of facile versatility that we easily adduce to conquer the present with the botched memorial of a defunct salience. Despite the travail of scholars to retreat from the frontier into the hypostatized hegemony of recycled credentialed information, we often are ensnared by the solemn attrition of decay as we traverse the conceptual underpinnings of all bedrock thought only to dangle precariously near the void of lapsed sentience because of transitory incontinence that is contiguous to the doldrums of crudity but nevertheless with mustered mettle we purport that the very self-serious awakening to our hobbling limitations is akin to a prosthetic enhancement of ratiocination capable of feats that stagger beneath the lowest level of subtext to elevate the highest superordinate categorization into heightened scrutiny that burgeons metacognitive limber. Marooned in the equipoise of specifiable enlightenment countermanded by the strictures of working memory we can orchestrate transverse pathways between the elemental quiddity of impetuous meaning and the dignified tropes of transitivity that bequeaths entire universes with feral progeny that modulate their ecosystems with both a taste of approximated symmetry and a cohesive enterprise for productivity that rests on the granular concordance of the highest plane to the indivisible parcels of atomic meaning that solder together to exist as intelligible if strained by the primordial frictions guaranteed by the brunt of motion incipient because of the metaphorical inertia created within insular universes to inform sprawling conurbations of mobilized thoughts designed to reckon with the breakneck pace of the corresponding reality to which they explicitly and precisely refer to.

We must singe surgically the filigrees that amount to the perceptible realities that transmute temperaments into the liturgy of routine conflated with the rigmarole of neural dragnets of reiterative quips in an elegant game of raillery with our supernal contumacy against the rigid authority of aleatory vagaries mandated by a dually arbitrary universe in a probabilistic terpsichorean dance with the depth of our dredge for subliminal acuity or the shallow bellicosity of common modes of glib contemplation characteristic of the basic nobility of improvisation. This basic interface with the world can either be mercurial or tranquil based on the interactionism of the enfeebled trudge of surface senses or blunt intuitions and the smoldering impact of the vestigial cloaks that deal gingerly with the poignant subtext evoked in the cauldron of immediacy rather than pondered with the portentous weight of imperative singularities of uniqueness derived from the plunge into the arcane citadel of microscopic introspection so refined that the ineffable drives we seek to fathom become amenable to the traipse of transcendental time that rarefies itself by defying the brunt of compartmentalized bureaucracies administered by the fulcrum of stereotypical notions of acquired gravitas imputed to mundane pedestrian quidnunc concerns that defile humanity rather than embolden the subaudition of gritty punctilios that show the supernal powers of the axiomatic divinity of sharpened sentience to reign with supremacy over the baser ignoble components of bletcherous nescience that leads to knee-**** platitudes that provoke folksy peevish divisions. We should rather orchestrate our activity by heeding the admonishment about the primogeniture of poignant sabotage buffered by the remonstration of innate tranquility and finding a whipsawed compromise of rationalization with true visceral encounters with the fulgurant quips of brisk emotions that grind industriously into amorphous retinues of the trenchant human imagination to either equip or hobble the leapfrogged interrogation of veracity and more consequently our notions of truth and fact.

When we see the hackneyed results of default ecological dynamics, we find ourselves aloof from purported transcendence because the whimpered bleats and cavils of the importunate masses result in a deafening din of cacophony because we strive throbbing with sprightliness towards the galloped chase of tantalization without the luxury of a terminus for satiation. Obviously a growth mindset is the galvanic ****** that spawns the imaginative swank of the pliable modulations of our perceived reality that, when protean, showcase the limitless verve of our primordial cacoethes for epigenetic evolution rather than the stolid and staid foreclosure of impervious sloth that memorializes the gluttony of speculation about fixed entities rather than imperative jostling urbanity that dignifies the brackish dance with dearth and the exuberant savory taste of momentary excess because it engages the animated pursuit of limerence rather than the exhumed corpse of wistful regret. Nature is a cyclical clockwork system of predatory instinct met with the clemency of the prosperous providence enacted by the travailing ingenuity of successive cumulative generativities that compounded unevenly and unpredictably to predicate a fundamental zeitgeist calculated to engorge the fattened resources of the resourceful and temper the etiolated dreams of the fringed acquiescence of a hulking prejudiced population of dutiful servants that balk at the diminutive prospects of a lopsided distribution of talent and means but slumber in irenic resolve created by the merciful hands of defensive designs that configure consciousness to relish comparative touchstones rather than absolute outcomes that straggle beyond a point of enviable reference to shield the world of the barbarism of botched laments clamoring for an uncertain grave from the gravity of the orbiting satellites of apportioned wealth both sunblind and boorish but simultaneously inextricable from the acclimated fortune of heaped nepotism and herculean opportunism. The intransigence of the weighted destiny of inequity is a squalid enterprise of primeval abrasive and combative tendencies within the bailiwick of the indignant compass inherent to the system that fathoms its deficiencies with crabwise and gingerly pause but airs a sheepish grievance like a bleat of self-exculpation but simultaneously an arraignment of fundamental attribution erroneously indicted without the selfsame reflexiveness characteristic of a transcendent being with other recourses to clamber an avenue to Broadway without malingering in the slums of opprobrious ineffectual remonstration against the arrangement of a blinkered metropolis of uneven gentrification.

We flicker sometimes between the strategic drivel of appeasement and the candor of audacious imprecation of the culprits of indignity or considerate nutritive encomium of the beacons of ameliorated enlightenment because we often masquerade a half-witted glib consciousness lazily sketched by the welters of verve alloyed with the rancid distaste of squalor and slumber on the faculty of conscientious swivels of prudential expeditions with an avarice for bountiful considered thought and wily contortions of demeanor that issue the affirmative traction of adaptive endeavor to cheat a warped system for a reconciled peace and a refined self-mastery. We need to traduce the urchins that sting the system with pangs of opprobrious ballyhoo and the effluvia of foofaraw that contaminate with pettifoggery and small-minded blather the arenas better suited for the gladiatorial combat of cockalorums tinged with a dose of intellectual effrontery beyond the span of dogmatism rather than the hackneyed platitudes that infest the news cycle with folksy backwardation catered to the fascism of a checkered established press that urges insurrection while tranquilizing dissent against the furtive actions of consequence hidden behind the draped verdure of pretense whose byproduct is only a self-referential sophistry that swarms like an intractable itch to devolve the spectator into a pasquinaded spectacle of profound human obtuseness that pervades malignantly the system of debate until the reductionists outwit themselves with the empty prevarication of circular logic that deliberately misfires to miss the target of true importance because of the pandered black hole easily evaded by creatures of high sentience but inevitably ensnaring the special kind of dupe into a cycle of bellicose ferocity of internecine balkanization. The vainglory of the omphalos of entertainment is also another reckoning because it festers a cultural mythos of glorified crapulence parading a philandered promiscuity with half-baked antics that gravitate attention and the lecheries of gaudy tenses of recycled tinsel alloyed by debased aberrations of seedy grapholagnia that magnetize as they percolate because of the insidious catchphrases embedded in pedestrian syncopation that ignite retention and acclimate to mediocrity the sounds of generations discolored by faint pasty rainbows rather than ennobled by majestic landscapes of ignipotent mellifluous sound that stands a supernal amusement still for the resourceful trainspotter.

Despite the contumely aimed in the direction of contrarians for deviating from the lockstep clockwork hustle of stooped pandered manipulation that peddles the wares of an entirely counterfeit reality, I stand obstinately against the melliferous stupefaction of entire genres of myth and subcultures huddled around the sentimental tug of factitious sophistries regaled by thick amorphous apostates that cherish the vacuous sidetracked spotlight with fervor rather than pausing on the enigmatic querulous inquisition about the penumbras that lurk with strained effort beneath or above the categorical nescience of the shadowy unknown that often coruscates with elegance even in obscurity. I fight with labored words to spawn a psychological discipline that invokes the incisive subaudition of the pluckily pricked exorcism of true insight from the husk of buzzwords that constellate auxiliary tangential distractions from the art form of psychological discernment that predicates itself on the concept that the rarefaction of rumination by degrees of microscopic precision enables the introspective hindsight of conscious events that can be parsed without the acrimony of cluttered conflations of the granular prowess of triumphant ratiocination that earns a panoramic perch with the added luxury of perspicacious insight into the atomic structure of the rudiments of our phenomenological field and the abstractions that linger beyond perceptual categorization. When we analyze the gradients of anger, for example, we can either be ****** into a brooded twinge of wistful resentment or we can decipher that through heuristics designed to cloister the provenance of subconscious repose with ignorance there exists a regimented array of tangential accessories embedded deep within the cavernous repository of memory that designates a cumulative trace of compounded symmetries of concordant experience immediately perceptible because of the tangible provocateur of our gripes and the largely subliminal tusk that protrudes because of primal instinct that squirms with peevishness because of the momentary context preceded by the desultory churn of smoldering associations swimming with either complete intangible sputtered mobility through the tract of subconscious hyperspace or rigidly fixated by an arraignment of circumstances with propinquity to the deep unfathomed flicker of bygones receding or protruding because of the warped and largely unpredictable rigmarole of constellated spreading activation.  
When we examine the largesse of the swift recourse of convenience we forget by degrees the travail that once bridged the span of experience from patient abeyance in provident pursuit to now the importunate glare of inflated expectations for immediacy that stings the whole enterprise of societal dynamics because it vitiates us with a complacency for the filigrees of momentary tinsel of a virtualized reality divorced from the concretism that used to undergird interaction and now stands outmoded as a wisp beyond outstretched hands straggling beyond the black mirror of a newfangled narcissistic clannishness that shepherds the ostentation of conceit to a predominant position that swaddles us with fretful diversion that operates on a warped logic of lurid squalor and pasty trends becoming the mainstays of a hypercritical linguistic system of entrapment based on the apostasy of candor for the propitiation of fringed aberration because of the majoritarian uproar about touchy butthurt pedantic criticasters with a penchant for persnickety structuralism. With the infestation of entertainment with the ubiquitous political cavils engineered by the ruling class to have a common arena of waggish irreverence we forget that sometimes the impetuous ****** of propaganda is cloaked by the fashionable implements of a rootless time writhing in a purported identity crisis only to gawk at the ungainly reflection of modernity in the mirror and remain blissfully unaware about the transmogrified cultural psyche that feeds the lunacy of endless spectacle based on the premise that one singular whipping post can unite an entire generation of miscegenated misfits looking for commonality to team up against the aging generations that cling to the sanctity of cherished jingoism against the intentionality of a revamped system that malingers with empty promises using exigency and legerdemain to obscure the mooncalves among their ranks that march on with quixotic dreams that tolerate only the idea of absolute tolerance and moderate only when feasibly permitted by the anchored negotiation of the fulcrum of totemic governmental responsibility between factions that wage volleys of invective at each other to promote a binary choice of vitiated compromises of mendaciloquence that ultimately endanger the republic with either the perils of hidebound conventionalism and nativist fervor or the boondoggles of fiscally irresponsible insanity cloaked with rainbows and participation trophies. Reproach can be distributed to both sides of the aisle because ironically in a world where gender is non-binary the most important reproductive ***** in the free world is a binary-by-default despotism that polarizes extremely ludic fantasies on the left met with the acrimony of the traditionalisms on the right that staunchly resist the fatuous confusions of delegated order only to the sharp rebuke of the revamped political vogue that owes its sustenance to a manufactured diplomacy of saccharine lies and ubiquitous lampoons that are lopsided in the direction of a globalist neoliberal bricolage of moderately popular buzzwords and the trojan horse of insubordinate flippant feminism that seeks to subvert through backhanded manipulation the patriarchy so many resent using lowbrow tactics and poignant case studies rather than legislating the egalitarian system into law using the proper channels. I myself am a political independent who sides with fiscal conservatism but libertarianism in most other affairs because the pettifoggery of law-and-order politics is a diatribe overused by sheltered suburbanites and red meat is often just as fatuous as blue tinsel and sadly in a majoritarian society the ushers of conformity demand corporate divestiture in favor of an ecological system of predictability rather than an opinionated welter of legitimate challenges to a broken system of backwards partisanship and wangled consent. Ultimately, I remain mostly apolitical, but I am a fervent champion of the mobilization of education to a statelier standard that demands rigor and responsibility rather than the chafe of rigmarole that understates the common objectives of humanity and rewards conventional thinking and nominal participation to earn credentialed pedigree when the bulk of talent resides elsewhere.
liz Jan 2015
Tonight
You wont be able to sleep
Because of me.

But
It's because of you
Why I haven't been able
To dream.
Amitav Radiance Dec 2014
Cut through the imaginary chains
Get a grip on the life’s reins
The journey maybe tough
Diamonds are polished by the rough
Journeying through the dark
Frictions may cause temporary spark
Running frantically across difficult territory
The pain and agony is just transitory
Life is there to celebrate
When you are confident and don’t speculate
Poetry by MAN Aug 2014
Tell me your secrets
Let me be your desire
Melt into each other
Burn in passions fire
Tantric touching
Position bodies hunching
Tongue my guide
Feel me inside
Smooth as I slide
Face  a roller coaster ride
Treasures need a map to find
Inside you buried is mine
*** can be a naughty thing
If body is all you choose to bring
Tease me tell me I can't touch
Fuels me..till our bodies crush
Crumbles my heart of stone
Exposed I am a M.A.N of bone
Incomplete pieces gone
Inside you I was all along
******* energy flowing strong
Stroke you short.....feel me long
Built up to a mighty swing
Infinite love is what I bring
Every ****** a new height
Scorpio sting feel my bite
Wrap around hold on tight
Focused energy hitting it right
Frictions heat all is felt
Becoming one as we melt...
M.A.N 7-7-14
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2021
l'amours dont sui espris...

  me and the moon cower,
me and the moon peer into the night,
from behind the cloud
from behind a puzzling thought...
me and the moon cower:
before the altar of the night...

well... i would never **** a fly...
at least i'd try...
the kingdom of insects states:
by some "consensus"
that the females are bigger
than the males...
i've heard it's not so with
mosquitos...

i couldn't **** a fly...
but when Monday's garbage collection
happens and i'm left dragging
an empty bin
into the garden to clean it...
i find... maggots at the bottom
of the pit...
still wriggling in the leftover juices
of meat and others...

carelessly like jerking off:
i pour some bleach into the cauldron...
sodium hypochlorite...
then some water for the foam...
the maggots disappear...
i wish them well...
but not much good could ever come
from drinking a corrosive salt...
alkaline implies corrosive salt...
well... i drowned some maggots in
alkaline...
but i very much care to have
a clean bin...

i ******* crocodiles and tears and tadpoles
into a tissue while
on the throne of thrones and send
them to: nowhere...
just before i take the no. 1 & no. 2
(no. 3 to ease up)...
then baptise myself in the shower...

summer will soon be almost over...
autumn will come
the proper fruits will start to fall...
i'll be making my wine...
it will take me 3 weeks or circa...
maybe 4... the apples will fall...
the pears too...
winter... when insects sleep...
as much as i might appreciate the copper-neck
suntan... i'll be happier to find that
the insects are sleeping: along with
the bears...

i rarely **** a fly... a mosquito, though?
each and every time...
if i were a zombie and a fly *******
a maggot-load onto me... i'd beg to digger...
well...
    i did't feel like killing this large
specimen of mosquito... it wasn't going to
bite me...
never mind...
i didn't feel like merely killing it...
i caught it be one leg...

i have two spider twins either side
of the door to my garden...
one was sleeping...
the other was awake...
how did i know?
the sleeping one curled up its legs
into a bud...
it wasn't awake to play piano with
its cobweb...

        so i pinched this one mosquito
by the leg and watched it frenzied...
trying to escape... my hand led it to the altar...
how quick the spider! how quick
the spider made a mummy of the would:
juiced up mushy meat!
i didn't **** it...
i just fed a garden spider...
a catch it couldn't otherwise catch...

i felt indifferent... more indifferent about
vegans than vegans feel: "differentiated"
from debating the need for milk...
eggs... never mind the meat... cheese...
i don't understand veganism on these three pillars...
milk (cream)... eggs... cheese...
i couldn't be a vegan...

vegetarianism: i can understand...
but... no eggs?! no... milk / cream?!
no... cheese?!
        get out of 'ere!

       maggots swimming in sodium hypochlorite...
or rather... dying in it...
but the prettier sight than killing a bothersome mosquito
was feeding it to a spider...
it almost felt like...
   feeding a cat sushi turkey ******* on
the end of the knife...

this song has nothing to do with the experience:
chevalier, mult estes guariz...
none!
why do i abhor Darwinism...
it... doesn't tease my vanity...
it just kills off history!
from ape to "somehow": now...
that's it!
   **** similis: the ape was known to the ancients...
but the ancients did ancient "things"
and didn't allow themselves to be swallowed
up by a ******* comparison!
metaphor! they would have settled for
a metaphor... but not a comparison!
a synonymous-ness!

Darwinism is right: nature abhors vacuums...
nothing in nature is to be ever wasted...
everything has a purpose...
if... somehow... it doesn't have a purpose:
it will... it will evolve... it will adapt...
but... Darwinism as... the prime idea...
the one & only source of the genesis of
"idea"? only in the anglophone world...
no where else will you hear
Darwinism so celebrated...
Hermes asked... why did Galileo overshadow
the findings of Copernicus?!
why did even William Burroughs undermine
Copernicus by staging a "fact" that...
oh the ancient Egyptians knew!
the ancient Greeks knew too!
but... no mathematics...
then some pope-****-smear of a Galileo
was the one with the telescope
"probing": proving the heliocentric model
most adequate...

one spider whispered to another:
find any cobweb: piano concertos in the desert?
no... me neither...
let's just wait for some of these sand-*******...
camel-jockeys to catch up...
we'll show them... mummification:
hey presto!

- and they did... how quickly that spider
launched into the mosquito...
rapping it up like a... nothing to be
beside the futures of food-stuff...
it felt...
well... not ignoble... a pride in a sense
of hierarchy...
the spider easts the mosquito...
it's really levelled ground in the insect
dominion...
i allow maggots to swim in sodium
hypochlorite...
i catch a mosquito by its leg
and feed it to a spider...
the spider does the mummification
ritual... the world balances itself out...

it's a strange sensation: it's hardly a feeling...
one gets feelings on a graveyard...
count the bones...
wake up... re-wake...
the fickle faculty of memory:
so prone to amnesia...
i abhor dreams.... therefore i dream none...
less Freudian ******* shrapnel....
less & less...

i need a mirror to take a selfie...
i need... the apparition of 3D space...
you can't revise QWERTY!
you can't improve it!

i can type without looking down
at the keyboard: here's to imitating the Liszt...
the Chopin...

eh?!
i didn't cite:  E... did i?
i included the surd of breath...
EH?!

ask the ******* Hebrews why we have concern
to begin to laugh...:
it's trapped in their definite article:
HA! SANTA!

           i'm here for only one thing...
beside thrilling it alive in Thailand...
or... recovering fractures in Europe...
someone... maybe one... or two...
have... stolen my identity...
                  sorry...
             garlic pickled in some red wine
will always go under the radar...
electric six's album should never have:
gat bar! bay bar!

   it's the 1980s and sade...
smooth operator....
             best kept feeling...
feeding a mosquito to a spider
rather than simply killing it...
like... the inversed... imploded...
ploy of game...

who needs tiger blood?
bluff?
i need... a mosquito...
a spider... a spiderweb... like a piano...
i need an awake spider...
the red wine is not to be...
necessarily... mixed with garlic...
although last time i heard:
infusing ren wine with three or four
teeth of garlic (nuggets?)
is a slimming elixir...

father SLiM? *******... yacht...
bogus crew...
feeding a mosquito to a spider...
death soon arrives... "tomorrow".

- still need the geocentric model when
reading the map... hell:
i need the flat earth perspective when
reading a map... i don't really care much
for the equator, the Greenwich meridian
when getting from A to B...
funny how geographic "algebra" works...
from point A to point B:
a round earth doesn't really help...
perhaps if i were sailing but even then...
a straight line...

Darwinism didn't really undermine
man's final vanity... according to Freud...
nor did Freud undermine another vanity...
Freud & Jung created the divided schematic
of what once man:
i wouldn't say man was Leibniz's pristine
monad: something indivisible...
but it was close: to be divided by memory
fickle faculty:
how it dries up through the churn of
pedagogy... so much strain on learning
2 x 2 = 4... a, b, c, d, e... f, g, h...
fair enough: to later rearrange into words...
but i don't appreciate the classical alphabet...
the genius behind QWERTY...
i type without looking down at the keyboard...
it's almost like: imitation of reading braille...

maybe the alphabet should be less: a, b, c...
it's not like the vowels are at the beginning
while the consonants follow...
it just doesn't make sense:
rigid...
i wonder what would happen if children
were taught the QWERTY alphabet sequence...

or... just remember all the letters:
it doesn't matter in which order you remember them...
just remember that there are 26 letters in the English
alphabet...

- it's so pointless just killing  mosquito...
a fly... hardly...
but a mosquito... just at the right time
when it inserts its needle and become a syringe...
that's the sweetest of moment...
lord of the flies? who is the lord of mosquitos:
didn't ha-shem eat up all the lesser
gods of the Levant... but somehow avoided
gobbling up the lord of mosquitos?
i'm conjuring up a deity the Hebrew deity
didn't gobble up into his pantheon...

what name... what name?!
to challenge a name like... Beelzebub?
Be'el'zee'bub...
proper pronunciation with
the apostrophes: intra-verbum...
just so you know...
who: hoo! i'm getting hot from all the cider
and whiskey... god... i'm gagging for
some absinthe... the moon is ripe!
it's full...
     i need some slimming elixir...
some red wine infused with garlic...
to keep the vampires away...

what will i name you: lord of mosquitos...
KOMAR... mosquito in western Slavic...
Darwinism doesn't bug my vanity...
i.e. it doesn't bother me...
it bothers me that it's a history eraser...
nothing from yesterday here on in...
in the anglosphere...
the monkey: mammon key "happened":
an oops! ****! hey presto!
deluxe! no one grieves for Robespierre...
i might...
like i might for the wild imaginings of
the Marquis...
               if only... i prefer prostitutes to these...
"free"... masculine prototypes of... ahem... "women"...
once the woe... once the woo of man...
now?!
i prefer prostitutes...
no need for dating: plus... if they're Turkish...
they like a beard... a hairy chest... a hairy
stomach...

i'll push this dagger into that crux of:
et tu... so far so far as it can be harnessed
collectively that i'm... passionate about...
not angry... bitter... pickling my emotions...
there's a gherkin for a heart if anyone is
willing...

lord of mosquitos: raba'albaeud...
well, i could make that apostrophe disappear...
but i'd only replace it with a diacritical marker
above the A... to imply: "a.a."...
i.e. that there are two... Siamese vowels...
but it wouldn't help the pronunciation...
let's see...

raba'albaeud vs. rabālbaeud...
            eh?          ha ha... "no" difference!
so much for everyone being... "literate"...
they read like they might eat...
i've been told i eat in a way that...
invites other people to eat...
so much for others... dictating pleasures
unattainable...
i was a dinner once... with school friends...
i was the only one who asked for
rare beef... everyone else...
doubly butchered their wants...
they wanted them well done...
beef? well done?!
oh i'm a snob at that...
IT'S NOT MINCED BEEF!
YOU NEED... JUICE!

i kept my mouth shut and ate happy...
so much for friends...
i.e. "friends"... people you spend a lot of time together:
it works in a pedagogic environment...
school's great...
you are ***** into their presence...
you have to have... work-around tactics...
bullies... brutes... nerds... teenage mothers...

the full moon: while everything is attired in:
quicksilver...
the full moon: skin-head BISCUIT...
while everything is attired in quicksilver!

too many vowels... too many vowels...
raba'albaeud...
i "think" i'll rename him...
phonetically, though: ra'ba'alba'ood...
although there's an E & an U instead
of the omega...

Lithuanian: U'ODAS: ooh... not you...
i need bitter... twice bitter than an IPA
Czech absinthe...
i need to see straight... wonky too!
i need my tongue to be aflame!
i need teeth made from iron!

- history has become less linear than it used
to be... it has begot an ouroboros
of repeated... thanks to journalism:
history used to be linear...
time has reached a year 0...
but there's no revision taking place...
don't shoot the messenger!
i'm looking for the name of the lord
of mosquitos...

it's a hard name to conjure:
even though you have all the tongues in the world
available on the palette...
i need bitter... Czech absinthe...
i want to feel: hot... as rot...

Latvian: not Estonian... i.e.:
not sääsk (saaaask):               ODU...
主 / オモ (omo-odu)... that's clearly pushing it...
       オヅ
it would be so much simpler to just **** a mosquito
rather than... purposively...
feeding it to a spider...
i would "feel" much better killing it...
than having fed it to the spider...

Napoleon might have added:
sure... they're literate... but literacy only arrives
as useful when the literate are bilingual...
what use do i have for these people
distract by letters...
what use for the priestly class...
since... their safeguard is... "missing"?

sweet amber... whether beer: gods' juices...
or simply... mead...
from the work around of Hephaestus....
safeguard these names of the gods...
before they disappear...
before the Czech absinthe becomes too
bitter... still drinkable... but hardly enjoyed...

"too many vowels"... the "argument" follows
suite... i'm red... hot... chilly-esque...
chasing zeppelins... chasing diacritic markers...
covert: how you might say:
SPIERDALAJ: DALAI LAMA....
  ARES... his son...
                  Hephaestus....

             while i'm burning!

                         pronoun verb
custard: ich arbeit...
all the nouns the world might allow...

butterfass...
                   i'm itching to pass by:
butterfaß.... consonants ought to have...
better... phonetic encoding symbols...
like TH and PH have to encapsulate F...

who needs buTTer when one Tao might
have... MITE vs. miGHT?!
two consonants coupled...
not another night in Posen...
please... not another night in Posen...

chasing
i don't want to be English so much....
too many troubles...
too many fictions...
i want to be inherently "biased"...
too many frictions...
  too many fictions...
chasing  Zeppelin....
     ditto: base... the Warsaw "boat":
about to... sink.
Big Virge Nov 2014
As the BNP has seemingly, been swept aside
by the rise of the EDL & now UKIP, in England

This piece, that I wrote, some years ago,
still holds weight, as the immigrant debate
is now, still being used for political games ...

Same bullchit,
just some different names and faces
and .... NOT JUST IN ... The UK ... !!!

LISTEN ... LiISTEN ... !!!
" Middle Class " ... England ... !!!

Come On Now ... !!!

It's NOT ... immigrants ...
Bringing England ... down ... !!!

It's ...
Your Own ... Government ...
That's Causing ... FROWNS ... !!!

Charles Clarke's ... A Clown ... !!!

He's been ... found out ...

His Home Office Crew ...
Haven't Got ... " A Clue " ... ?!?
where ... Immigrants are ...
from ... " Foreign Grounds " ...
who now ... walk around ...
Right ... next to you ...

So ... Of Course ...
The ... " Working Class " ...
are in an ... " Angry Mood " ... !!!

and now ... are singing
the same ol' tune ...

"Get the immigrants out !
They're stealing our jobs !
and are nothing more,
than slobs who rob !"

Well ... for some ...
That's ... TRUE ... !!!

There is ... NO DOUBT ... !!!

but let's ... talk about ...
Those ... " Wearing Gowns " ...
and those who ... RUN ...
Your ... English Towns ...
whilst ... Robbing People ...
of their ... " Pounds " ... !!! ...

and  ... What about those ... ?
who ... Sit and Smile ...
whilst employing some to teach ...
who they knew were ...." Paedophiles " .... !!!!!

"But, its' the immigrants
who are ****** worthless !"

"Well, I suggest,
you watch ministers, more !
and immigrants less !
Unless of course, they're Americans
like Condoleeza and George !"

Then ....
Instead of fighting wars
on ... foreign shores ...

Helping George to ... " Hoard " ...
for his ... " Monetary Frauds " ...
So His Friends ... can hold ... MORE ... !!!

The Home Office could ... ENSURE ...
that immigrants who are ... KNOWN ...
to break ... SERIOUS LAWS ... !!! ...
are shown ... The Door ...
that's marked ... DEPORT ... !!!!!

The Labour Party ... CLEARLY ...
has got some ... flaws ... !!! ...
from ... Inept MP's ...
in the ... " Commons " ...
to the ..... " Lords " .....

Whose HYPOCRISY ...
SHOULDN'T BE ... ignored ... !!!!!

Like those who say ...

"Crime figures are down !"

with proof that's ... SHODDY ... !!!
and a body like ..... NODDY ...... !!!
and a pair of ... " BIG EARS " ... !!!

Yes i'm back to that ... " Clown " ... !!!
who in effect ... has said ...

He will ...

" Stop terrorism
on our hallowed ground !!! "

Please excuse ...
My ... " Skepticism " ... !!!

But ...
when letting immigrants ...
with ... " SERIOUS CONVICTIONS " ...
walk away from ... " Extradition " ...
and .... " Prison Supervision " .... ?!? ...

Mr. Clarke would seem to be ...
a man of ... CONTRADICTIONS ... !!!

So ...
"COME ON NOW PEOPLE" ...
........... LISTEN ...........

It's really ...
NOT ... My Mission ... !!!
to make you sign petitions ...

But ...
CERTAIN ... " Resignations " ...
would help the population ...
REJECT ... their thoughts of ... HATRED ... !!!!!

So ... " Come On Now !!! " ...
The Government is ... " FOUL " ... !!!!!
and should ... " Throw In " ...
The ... " Proverbial Towel " ... !!! ...

and take up ... New Positions ...
WELL AWAY ......... from public vision .... !!!!!!!!!

because ....
Their Brand of ... government ...
Feeds ... " New Age Separatism " ... !!!!!

which ... CLEARLY NOW ...
is causing rise to ...

... FUNDAMENTALISM ... !!!!!

from those who court ... " Religion " ...
to those who preach ... " Division " ...
and ... Teachings of ... RACISM ... !!!!!!!

From groups just like ...
The ... " BNP " ...

Nick Griffins' Plea ...
is ... VOTE FOR ME ... !!!

" I may just do !!!!!! "

Like those who choose
to ... Walk in Shoes ...

NEW and IMPROVED ... !!!

They now ... Don't Use ...
Those ... STEEL CAPPED BOOTS ...

But still are ... CLEARLY ...
Quite ... " CONFUSED " ... ?!?!?

Until it come to ...
Using ... " TOOLS " ... !!!!!

"You know the drill boys !
We've got new toys,
the first **** in view
you know what to do !"

How many of them ?
Now join ... Police Crews ... !?!

to use ...
Their ... NEW SUIT ...

To ... Institute Abuse ... !?!
  
I guess you ... " Bourgeoise Crews " ...
are now thinking ... " Oooooohhh " ... !?!

Well ....
NOT ... as much ...
as those ... " Immigrant Youth " ...
who've seen policemen ... Act Uncouth ... !!!!!

Vote ... BNP ... !!!!! ...
If you really want to ...
for all the good ...
This will do you ... !!!

The Rich ... will still ...
"Look Down" ... on the poor ... !!!

from the ... " Top of the Hill " ...
whilst storing ... pounds ...
and ... " Dollar Bills " ..

You're ...
" Foolish If " ...
You think ... They Won't ... !!!

whether immigrants ... STAY ...
or ... immigrants .... GO .... !!!!!!!

IT'S NOT ... just blacks ...
who'll face ... Attacks ... !!!

They're ... " Pretty Radical " ...
and that's a .... FACT .... !!! .....

I wonder sometimes ... ??? ...
Are they ... " Government Backed " ... ?!?

because ... if they are ... ???
Will they ... KICK US OUT ... !?!
with a ... " Bag of Cash " ...

because ... Right Now ...
That wouldn't be ... so bad ... !!!

So vote ... BNP ... !!!
That's Now ... MY PLEA ... !!!!!!

They may ... FINALLY ...
Set Immigrants ... FREE ... !!!!!

FREE from ... LIES ...
in ... This Country ...
from those ... You ... VOTE FOR ...
YES .... " MP's " .... !!!!! ....

Men like ... " Clarke " ...
" Prescott " ... and ... " Kennedy " ...

How about those three ... !?!

An ... INCOMPETENT LIAR ...
and ... Confessed ... " Alchy " ... !!!!!

I'll let you ... " Decide " ...
who applies to ... each ...

I'll say it again ... !!!
In Fact ... I'll ... REPEAT ... !!!

My ... " New Found Line " ...
Just ... ONE MORE TIME ...

VOTE BNP ... !!!!!!

As I said ... before ...
I may now do ... !!!!!!!!!

and that's the ... TRUTH ... !!!
cos' i've ... Never liked red ...
and am Black ... NOT Blue ... !!!!!

But ...
What about you ... ?

DON'T BE ABSURD ... !!!

It'll make things ... WORSE ... !!!!!

The only ones who'll ... WIN ...
will be those whose work ...
is ... " Driving A Hearse " ...

I suggest you ... Take That ... " IN " ...
and REMEMBER ... those words ... !!!!!!!!

If it comes to that ...
Whites ... " Joining Klans " ...
who make ... Racist Attacks ...
with tools like an ... AXE ... !!!!!

I suggest you think back ...
to ... " Notting Hill Frictions " ...
Toxteth ... and ... Brixton ...

Remember when the ... RIOTS ...
were the news on ... Television ...

It wasn't ... Much Fun ... !!!

Well ... Nowadays ...
Some ... " Carry Guns " ...

I'd prefer ... NOT TO SEE ...
Riot Violence ... on streets ...

Some of you ... SURELY ...
Agree ..... with me ..... !!!!!

I'd rather find ... SOLUTIONS ... !!!
That ... DECIMATE ... " iLLusiOns " ... !!!!!

because it .....
Wouldn't be ... " Wise " ...
to ... incREASE FIGHTS ... !!!
and face a ... REVOLUTION ... !!!!

We Need to build ...
" More Unions " ... !!!

That Help ...
" Depose " ... " Collusions " ... !!! ...
Employed to spread ... " Confusion " ... ?!?!?

This piece of prose ...
may make some ... FROWN ... !?!

But ...
NOT ... as much ...
As ... Government Clowns ... !!!

Who ... choose to leave ...
The Masses to ... THIEVES ... !!!
and .... POVERTY .... !!!

and a ... Health Service ...
Now on .... It's KNEES .... !!!

When you look around now
Don't you .... Agree .... ??? ...

If your answer is ... NO ... ?

You must ...
LIKE TO BE ... Clowned ... ?!?

which leaves me thinking ...

" COME ON NOW ... !!!!! "
As the BNP has seemingly, been swept aside
by the rise of the EDL & now UKIP, in England

This piece, that I wrote, some years ago,
still holds weight, as the immigrant debate
is now, still being used for political games ...

Same bullchit,
just some different names and faces
and .... NOT JUST IN ... The UK ... !!!
Can you determine the Cause of this Spite
By Twin Connections of Mistakes long past?
That which must be Forgiven; And Enlight
To soothe those Swollen Muscles at long last
I think there was a Page which left unread
Caused many Translations to poison us
That Philosophy: If Thoughts can be dead
Then reinstate that Puppet in a Bus
Who knew all his Movements were Concepts formed
And those Ring-Joints dictate his every Move
But this: Illusion and Concept conformed
Thinking these are actual Gifts from Above.
My Point, is that all these Frictions we had
Were Real Illusions; And Concepts bad.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Trevor Gates Apr 2013
Sweltering insurgencies of electric power chords
Tribal reverberations of skin-stretched drum boards
Rolling and filling; syncopating the noise
Of the ***-less toys
The ****-less boys
Enraptured in the music
The anthem
Of invidious phantoms
My eyes hurt inside and
I want to pull them out and
Scrape out the gunk and rust
that’s behind my self-indulgent perseverance
so I can cry
for the first time in years…

Wrapping my hands around his slender torso
Licking away the paint, the dripping ooze; more so
Than hastening my ****** and mordant urges
To bite what emerges
And my mouth purges
The obelisk from underneath
The iron-pierced jester
The voracious molester
My hand tightens as I grip
his throat tighter and
I want to squeeze until his eyes pop
from his sockets and
laugh until I puke against the walls,
watching the ****** fluids mix
like an execrable marinara sauce…

I turned thirty while still being sixteen
The vivid beauty of the world was only in dreams
But none of mine, none that I can recall
Many years have passed since I took the oral fall
Where no one saw
Intransigent need to live
For the snake in my veins hungered for more
So many had their way
until I was limp and sore.
Defamatory fingers of mire and strife
Probing and stretching
My insides
And devilishly comforting
With limpid ambrosia
That’s infected by bilious worms and maggots covered in icing
And fruit

Amatory gauntlets fastened and secured over
Handless limbs that retract under matriculated frictions
That fracture, crack, morph, distort
Emphasize, marginalize
Rationalize, desensitize
Acts of *******, evasion, moral drainage;
Pieces, bits, chunks, sections, portions, servings;
Arms, legs, eyes, tongues, fingers, toes,
Love, lust, infatuation
Adoration
Boys, girls, women, men,
Angels, demons, monsters, humans
Creators, gods, titans, divas
All extended and limited from the minds that worship
Sanctify, mesmerize, glorify, rectify
While humans eat more, love more, **** more
Than the angels, demons, monsters, and titans
We ponder and cherish
Nevermore, for me
Ever lore, for all
Crows surround
And chaos found.
Sacrelicious May 2012
I need to
forget
about
Frictions' force
and
Gravity's grip.
So,
I can
eliminate
all limitations.
To
One day,
will up,
a
will power
strong enough,
tough enough,
to
fly away
from fear.
In a
fast
free-fall.
Hopefully
I'll
fill
the
World's
empty wine glass.
If I fail,
I'll still
raise my glass
to drink the punch
and die
trying.
My soul covet nay diamond and jasper,
Which can be stolen or lost altogether;
Neither seek you the fleeting treasures
Of the world with their misty pleasures.

My heart desire not cars nor mansions
Alone in this earth full of constant frictions;
Neither pant you after momentary majesty,
Rejoicing in an ebbing estate of excellency

For moths and worms shall consume apace
At death, this body, and its glamour face.
You cannot the devil confront with riches:
Job would have won cheaply his challenges.

But seek ye rather first the spiritual gifts--
Coveting earnestly heaven's endowments:
For life's purposes are by them established;
Without them dreams cannot be fulfilled.
CJ M Aug 2015
@The Jacket.
Love, can I treat you like I treat my jacket? Taking you wherever I go, showing the love I have for you through my sleeves and tuning you to my body, pulsating throbs of my heart as our two frictions force reaction.
I want to have you close to me, heavy hood be your hair as it sinks close to me, covering my neck with loving protection, covering my shoulders with your arms entwined with mine as if we were truly one, covering my length and letting me know that we are at a temperature of comfort and ability.
I want your body to clothe me, zip up tight and never let go, hugging me with all the comfort in the world and lifting yourself as to be a silent watcher to me, a shield to my being from the enemies that threaten us.
I want your hands to be the pockets, close yet separate, deeply rooted as if it were your faith placed near my sides. Holding me as I hold you.
I want our love to be the zipper, running through both our forms, creating a new feeling, making a new being, forging us.
Yet who are we? Who are we to claim to be so close in cloth yet so young in mind, so strong in emotion and so weak in body?
We are the very fabric of nature, hooking to machines that form the sewed outlines of other such fabrics, forming the earth and inciting war among our emotion.
We walk through the public proudly, you clinging to me and I, chest puffed like a bird in mating season, acquiring a taste for the strange looks and stranger people who deem to judge us based on their understanding.
Hot weather, cold weather, mild and comfortable weather. Rain or snow, sleet, hail, or hell’s heat, I intend to keep you close, as you are more than cloth covering me, you are the being caressing me, kissing my spirit and cradling my heart in the warm grasps of your fabrics, pressed closely to my chest in an attempt to make me feel better about myself, hiding my form so that none shall see what I deem stay hidden.
And I shall love you, I shall do all that I can to keep you safe and keep you near, mend you and wash you, clearing your mind and body of the impure, soaking your fabric and drying them out once more. Tonguing your soul while hugging you back, rubbing your threaded flaws and letting you know that they are necessary, that they are noted and left as forgotten. Unafraid to dawn you and worthy to criticize yet keeping grateful to have you when the nights get cold and my soul needs your warmth.
The world is a cruel place, and it gets worse every day, which is why, my love, I want you to be my jacket, and I shall be yours.
Tonights night vent, I literally just pasted it here, hopefully I'm finished, but I still have some emotion left, I think I'm going to think another up
Dorin Cozan Mar 2010
On the ladder of pain, others sadder than we are
Are climbing up and down constantly
I watch them from my balcony, when they come and take out their garbage

Because right behind my building, by the containers
Is the end of the ladder, and beyond it
Well, who knows. Nobody knows
Or maybe I’m not told. I’m not as yet one of them, you see, to be let into such information.

First I told myself: nonsense. And John, from 7th floor said the same:
Get out of here, what ladder? What holes?
Hey, buddy, I’m telling ya, there’s no ladder there! No hole, man! And I take my ******* out every evening.
There might be one in your head!
I touched myself: no hole! So, I started watching.
Today, tomorrow, until one evening when
I saw it.

It was…a huge hole! It swallowed me at once! And the ladder,
Was shiny and sturdy.
I ran to the kitchen, I took the sack with leftovers and started going down
Running.

The others, quicker than me, were ahead. And they were running as fast as their legs would take them, as if someone was after them.
And when they were touching the ladder, they would suddenly throw themselves head first! And the ones they were bracing themselves trying to hang on were pushed from behind.

So, slowly but surely, I started to slow down.
And, when I saw no one was watching, I started going backwards.
Then I started running.

I went to a halt in the middle of the sitting room and grabbed my head in my hands.
Somebody had moved the ladder by the foot of the table, the big one, covered in the
Last supper doily (maybe the guy upstairs, John, in a moment of adamic hate rage)

Years have passed since. Questions, frictions, showers, pills…anyway, nonsense.
I’m now cured by that thing with the ladder. Oy, mate, I say, there’s no ladder there!
In my house only the wooden floor’s shining! You can shave in it mate! You can shave in it!
Look at it! It came all the way from Germany, they know their stuff, Germans!
Amitav Radiance Jan 2015
Life’s comprehension
Limited by apprehension
So many contradictions
Dissent caused by frictions
Relentless falsification
Path leads to dereliction
Facade of colorful graffiti
No one heeds an entreaty
Julian Mar 2019
Flippant polymaths exude the frippery of travail for lapsed inordinate surgical gains in temporal but temporary acclaim that owes its provenance to the gullarge accentuated by the guttural tempests of silent windfalls that wrestle with sharks and snarky cagamosis with pilfered fame without rulers for rules that own the profligacy of a cineaste game

We cannot surpass our talents with ease when the treecheese of inevitable distance between equipoise and insanity is a tantamount inanity of prolixity for the sake of freedom rather than servitude to the slow meandered steps of trudged verbigeration that needs to be exorcised from the seat of authority for the plodding inconvenience of time earned that shakes the listless yearning people who lie and spurn

Demagogues are trifles because they are anoegenetic and care not for the abligurition that consumes the energy of a dismal life lived on fringes rather than reaped with grimaces for binges that continue to absorb the painful pangs of twinges that hedonists are of interest

We cannot exorcise the demons that give stygian weight to exchequers beyond the gamut of money but rather the currency of velocity of thought that owes its weight to weightlessness of spaces between the spacious and the limited tract of isolative territory that many mendicants looking for sustenance travail in insolence and in perjury of their solemn duties for self-serious honesty they lack a vista to see their crimes as more than just a pettifoggery of disputatious wranglers that wrench and then contemn the objects of their moral scruples to contend with nothing but the vacant expanse of a limitless injury for a momentary slip of cultivation and countenance

Frippery is hard to cobble with lapidary wit because succinct grievances are fallow ground for the permanence of atrocity and the temperance of felicity to conform to the desiccated pathways of limpid but livid excoriations of willful ingenuity met with aleatory rambles that sprawl incalescence with words as a dying occupation that is resurrected from the abeyance of its pragmatic utility to distinguish class from crust.

The triadic fatuousness of snarky sharks recruiting the gullarge of paranoiacs to deputized alacrity lead many strident vocations astray as they pilfer the nullibiety of spectral ignorance and defy the gravitas of the primiparas of a swollen technocracy, an outrage that scarecrows with prevenance have adumbrated against with strident accelerations of sublime velocity

So we swim in perilous straits against the demiurge of inclemency in fated rittles for the turpitude of wraiths and engineer every aborning day a new foofaraw of unalloyed atrocity
Now more than never should be deployed to ensure that the castigation of scoundrels and guttersnipes that exert a rip tide to those stranded on the shores of littoral desiccation might find the pristine beachgoing public an amenable treat proffered by exorcised sheepishness in reiterative bleats that quarkswarm only the antinomy of sentient masteries by shoveled civilizations proctor to horological insistence in design

So we designated an abeyance of heydays to create a rippled nostalgia that creeps in the winter storms that singe even glabrous ignorance with the twinges in absentia of the regal crows that circle the sun as the sustenance of the alighted moon as we reach for the heaved Richter teeming with ablution for venial commination of prolix croons that exert a Palo Alto rhyme

Phenomenological fields distal to the cephalocaudal origination of limber and the ironic counterpoint to that strife in excess rather than dearth of the henchmen behind the exchequer showcase that fluid thoughts surpass the limits of the dentistry of cosmetic cosmology simultaneously a scientific boon but a coarse albatross

We are criminals in a world stranded by ****** apostasy because of the sincerity of minstrels meets plodding human ignorance as exemplars rather than the apotheosis of divine excoriation of wastrels and flattybouches who webdoodle their way into the extinction line in some computer file swiped from eccedentesiasts who often in uncouth barbarity forgetfully abide without the temperance of floss

So what are we to make of magisterial wits of wiseacres who pilot tenable objectives like Indiana Jones flexing his comical whip when the gunfire of cacophony inundates our ears with a lisp of cockalorum imposture rich in chewing tobacco and its ungainly gripes and tenacious grip

Should we seek salvation from the treecheese of arboreous terrain amenable to the newfangled windfall of agricultural whims that dare now with caprice but not quixotic disdain to reconfigure the parsimonious levered engagement of melliferous fungible transaction between sabbaticals and chief financiers dubbing the vociferous limn of the primeval fulgurant incandescent ethereal quips?

We strive for palaces issued with dimes, dozens and scores of retinues that retain the patina of sophistry as the gullarge makes the vangermytes cozy in their defensively mechanized citadel buffered against the unheralded malversations of mammon intersecting with primordial chemistry that give the philanderer a guise of philanthropy despite professed gainsay that perjures because hucksters are winsome with fiduciary risk

So we calumniate with lapsed puns and Potter’s Spells as we dredge the indemnity of bustling heydays that extend beyond the bailiwick stated because of the prolonged trace of nostalgia that frazzles our voluntary expeditions with misanthropy as each libertine instinct becomes subject to stop and frisk

How to balk at such a garrulous repartee as proffered by swanky intransigence that shakes it off in a quaky town that hates the Swift refrain that endangers the fatalism of recuperated foresight borrowed from the armamentarium of corrupted killjoys who swim in a dalliance with the itchy myths that drift from powerlessness to voguish debauchery of insouciant internecine fringes frayed by the tomes that decry Stygian drift

Shiftless and rooted in rintinole absolved by plackiques that enchant the voyeurism of repined squalor of industrious frippery deracinated from the aureate complicity of largesse calibrated to mobilize the skittish mercurial yuppies to a dance with divestiture, taxes and an earthen death, we sprint the evergreen mile toward the scrupulous invention of enthusiastic euphemisms arbitrated by the procrustean silt of the leaky faucet of enigmatic timelessness etched by chiselers to beat “Us and Them” and warn the vanguard of the front rank about the thespian rift

Exhaustive rescue squads prepared for the dearth of monetary heft in times of perilous drought denigrate the authors of famine to the indulgent parents of inordinate sabotage of narrative for riskless arbitrage that is the outrage of sciamachies between platonic indifference and the tantrums of the feckless in the dangerous hearth of the cavernous wilderness of limitless imaginations that stagger so far beyond orbit they become satellites to vagrancy and whittled paragons too distant to dissolve in the ethereal chemistry of incalescent uproar sadly flanged by the Dopplers of ephemeral fate

Squandered by the desuetude of a snarky intervention I issue invective at the proctors of deafferented limbs for barbarous swine meeting expediency in demise, bemoaning the placid distaste of rectified cries that issue candles for each acrimony beyond the permutation of the staid inflexible limit of 88’

Bashfully we careen through argosies of curiosity to fossick the stalactites of timeworn intuition and reckon with their converse ironies that drip faucets of mildew that remain hidden unless poked by plucky flashlights to inspect the paragon of erosive filigrees of a bewildering paradox of polarized design that one meets the ceiling at inception and the cousin strives to clamber empty space to know with faint certainty the bulldozed irony of superordinate coexistence

Now we return to the majesty of a spurned wiseacre that evades the snappy parlance of a wrenched friction between the physical and the metaphysical elements that constitute a commensurate reality so supernal that its ostentation creates lifetimes of reiterative growth that spawns crimson red and bloviated blues to find a fulcrum of balance between the malversation on one hand of criminal sinister machinations and on the other hand the execrable self-righteous ignorance of a hidden vehicles of dexterity that are subsumed by a subtlety of legislative graft that owes its forbearance to the sanctimony of perseveration without the laurels of persistence

Now we wed the concepts between the ambidexterity of a monolithic titan who wanes rather than waxes himself because his glabrous head already exposed requires nothing new because the empire that struck back is denuded by the thorny imbroglio of a sunken Rose

Timmynoggies are perfect for haberdasheries of saccharine and glib excellence as measured by the ****** cacophony of unmerited applause that strains the resourcefulness of the silent mastery of magistrates in mellifluous alcoves surrounded by the soundproofed rigors of an execrable dereliction wilt into the imaginations of the few that watch movies with errantry rather than pleasantries of gaudy nonsense enchanted by a striptease of the wanton zeitgeist that some balk at but everyone knows

Time earns the spangled banners of sloganeering because of the fastidious creations of pole folders that maneuver between quips borrowed from antique movies and swindled affectations of yearning of many of all fears inevitable with the malevolent passage of the technocracy from cheers to vehement inveighed jeers

We should fear the watershed because it necessitates the evaporation of winsome ambition and implores the subservience of a guiltless fascination with abominable regress concomitant to the acceleration of money preceding a whipsawed downfall ensured by the funereal spates of requiems to oneironauts who plunged to their deaths on headlong flickering whims past the craggy landscape of lunar concordance and through the abeyance of qualms to flabbergasted self-importance in the eradication of provident fears

Memorials exist encoded in the temporal twinges of agony that straddle the cardiovascular throbs of impermanence that sweat with each simple beat to blather about the repetitious nature of a livid nature scrambled in exodus of the emigration of senseless blather to the subroutines of regimented sleepless paragons of travail in every pedestrian feat accelerated with each passing foot traversed by vigilant and eager feet

Tempests crowd the cluttered hamartithia of dredged incompetence leading to the foreclosure that precedes the simple derelictions that amount to grievous uncertainties that squawk in the plumage of the frippery decay of an autumnal fall from gracile riches landlocked without room to sprawl rigged against every track that is a surefire gleeful keepsake to meet, greet and serenade the claques adorned with the monikers of the Greeks

Trembling beneath the weight of mellifluous sauntering dingy designs that exude the anguish of our provident but incidental remonstration against the plodding indifference of the artistic clerisy we sputter against intransigent annulments of the emotive human engine calibrated with creaky pistons that rumble with furor of abrasive protest in timely haphazard elemental designs for vanguard ears

Tridents shed the fossicked leaves that are divisible by two but not inevitably glue that solders the identities of people congregated around a situation of gleeful sprees rather than wistful regress into a temerity without regret that gets dangled in the purview of the spiteful wings of armies that drawl when they sing vapid songs for vaped bongs but not the soberly cheers because of the deafening din of conformity oblivious of the honorific crescendos that still peak after so many restless years

Confederates line the avenues of bustling caverns of cumulative human disdain so willfully flouted by the wrenched corrosive frictions of vibrant deformation of the cultural narrative that encapsulates the collective bubbles chewed and jettisoned like bandied candy and then defamed without justice because  hurricanes churn up the reclusive emergence of protective vanity chased down as a sunken cost for a siphoned glory of tribal pride despite the strictures of logic

Creeping with insistence is a subaudition of governing gravel that entombs many steadfast lies that embodied people living delusory lives under a paradigm that has been subverted by the feats of science into a morass of irrelevance and the chances are many of those so deluded still breathe the air now more polluted but balk at the memories of the fallen passengers on the convalescent train that accelerates sunblind but respectfully toward a systematic engrossment of swollen intellects whimpering about the tautologic

We finance our prescient rodomontade with rodeos equipped with zany clowns who spurn the tridents of Poseidon because of the iridescent gloss of sheepish and flippant zealots who churn against the wrestling match of televised irony with accentuated eccedentesiastic disdain amended by a tolerable diversion of ennobled gallantry zip-zagging among the many valid quodlibets and missing the mark entirely on purpose to vacate the possible raillery of those who balk at time’s chosen serpentine tracks because of limited pedagogical tracts

So lets solder a forceful brunt against the senseless regalia of modern omphalos and return to the plenipotentiary fields of resourceful human inquiry into the chagrins outmoded by convenience but amplified in vociferation by the prosthetic extension of a grangull humanity outfoxing itself into a zugzwang inevitable in the future with collateral losses because of senseless invidiousness orchestrated by the immiscible dermatology of divisive facts often about race and ineluctable tax

We conclude with the optimism that refineries become gentrified by the superlunary squadrons who bask in beatific beams of anonymity and that the pollution preceding our evolution is just adventitious rather than central to the amelioration of wavy screens ennobling so many upstarts to teach themselves the majesty of lucid dreams and to capitalize on ludic ideals divorced from the urchins of radical idealisms that ironically poach rarefied air with smug pollution of narrative scares

Without trepidation we can muster the largesse of civility to create a progeny that has a recursive progeny of heirs that defiantly imagine a world bereft of specters of the soporific imagination enforced by the lapidation of insight from termagants who stride with ursine acrimony naked bare and envision a global meliorism that is careful, picaresque, pragmatic and filled with meritocratic care

With those ornaments of an aureate measure in mind


We leap beyond the enumerated infinity in time's proper design
Tehreem Nov 2016
She stared at his wild deep eyes
His fingers lingered in her hair
Her mouth curled up in pursuit
His dreams held her breaths
Sunshine spilled in their frictions
Liquid hearts lost in imperfections
His abyss is blue dark and intense
Trail of her kisses obscure dense
He summoned his demons darkness
To burn her light to **** her madness
Isolated devil's peace crisis.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2022
an evening like this one requires me to disclose what song i'll be listening to on repeat for the duration of this contemplation: red hot chilli peppers' desecration song... i tend to do just that: listen to one song on repeat when composing, i rarely compose while listening to several songs or an album: i want to capture something and listening to one song alone, on repeat, allows me just that: a heightened focus on several details...

i'm starting to think that the managerial staff at Wembley
are sadists, the original times for the shift
for the Taylor Hawkins tribute were:
external teams 10am to 12am...
and internal stewards the timings were
3pm to 11:30pm...
now? apparently no internal stewards and everyone
in the company is part of the external teams...
timings? get this... 9am through to 12am...
what the ****? do i look like a surgeon hacking
away in a hospital?
i'll be lucky if i don't have to leave the house
for 24hours... i'll be very lucky...
given that they'll probably close the Wembley Park
station doors in my face and i'll have to catch
the usual N18 > N25 > N86 > N365 back home...
having to walk about a mile if not two
to actually get on the N18 in the opposite direction
to where i'm going... sadists...
plus, i wanted to this gig prior to the Wembley
shift in Basildon, for the Garage Music Festival:
start times 3pm end time 12am... i could have done
it... but not if i'm supposed to start
a Wembley shift at 9am... ****'s sake... sadists...
that's the problem with Wembley...
they employ too much stuff... they are **** are
coordinating staff: because there is too much staff...
but Wembley is a capitalistic behemoth...
can you imagine how much money they make from
one even if they can throw so much money about?
i'm guessing each even brings them roughly
one million's worth of profit if not more...
price of a ticket? astronomical i'd suppose...
never mind the price of a pint of beer and a burger...
and people do want to get drunk at a concert...
we're talking roughly £10 for a pint of beer...
and about £15 for a 450ml cup of gin and tonic for
the ladies...

but i'm not here to talk about that...
i seriously had the weirdest shift at Fulham today...
it was so weird that i felt compelled to write about it...
work: i never write about work:
more? the people i work with...
the shift was plain enough... we were waiting to sign
in... me and cerebral palsy Martin decided to sit
outside of someone's house: the people of the house
were throwing out their sofa... next to a heap
of black bins... i became tired of standing around
doing **** all... i saw Martin on the opposite side
of the road: yo! Martin! rest your legs...
he came over and sat down next to me...
in that funny walk of his... what wasn't funny
was the fact that Fulham banned him from taking shifts
at Craven Cottage because he was accused of being
drunk on the job... cerebral palsy? it's a very visible
disability (maybe it's not cerebral palsy, whatever it is)
he stumbles when walking... tries real hard to keep
eye contact but his eyes sometimes wander to look at
something behind you... and he slurs and speaks like a drunk:
but he's funny... and there... all these football grounds
stick to security, safety, service mottos... "not all disabilities
are visible" with regard to someone wanting to use
the disabled... ahem... sorry... "accessible" toilet...
but yet one ground managed to fire a guy with a clear
disability... i like Martin... he's funny because he's funny
and not because of "X": he's actually self-aware enough to use
this to his advantage... soon a few other guys lined up
next to the sofa and we just chilled...

it's impossible to not note the following:
the bigger the ratio of men to women... when working?
the smoother the shift is... honest to god...
in this line of work... you need about 20 men and 2 women...
even today all the guys stood their ground
but one girl among us? she ******* ordered
an UBER McDonalds... and this wasn't even on her
break... no one would have minded if she did that
on her break... but she wasn't on her break!
what happened? she had to hand in her accreditation
and her bib and was sent home!
i mean: the audacity of some people!
                          on my break i ate three chicken
and bacon Caesar salad tortillas and was finally content...
but this doesn't reach the pinnacle of weird...

i was working with this guy... a colt... maybe 24...
i couldn't really tell... a certain Mr. Hussein...
a Yemeni... let's just call him Mr. Hussein Yemni...
i don't think i ever worked with anyone weirder:
and i'm not saying that in a bad way...
i'm saying this like prostitutes call me Biggie
or the good sort of mad...
                                         i don't think i ever worked
with an Arab before... i don't think i've ever
been so close to Mecca in the ghost-medium...
    a strange people: eerily strange...
                                  we must have talked about almost
everything... what book he was reading...
what he liked: drink? no... smoke? no...
but you must have a weakness... every man has a weakness...
coffee? yup... sweets, baklava? yup...
well... you can't beat the baklava of Edgware Road...
the best that i know of, i said...
so what did you study? Physics, Mathematics,
                       Arabic... smart kid...
now he's studying criminology - because he wasn't
to become a police office...
he informed me about these degree apprenticeship:
debt free studying and working in the field...
i told him i wanted to become a science teacher...
then again i'd rather become a primary school teacher...
because i told him:
it sometimes doesn't matter WHAT you teach,
what sometimes matters more is WHO you teach...
that old chestnut saying... it's not what you know:
it's who you know...
i told him i wrote poetry on the side when he asked
whether this was my only job...
i told him i sometimes come back from a shift
and sit down to write in the early morning...
although i don't stay up until 5am like i once used to...
so what are you going to today?
go home, hopefully get in before 12am
and have a drink and write...
                             turns out... he's a rich kid...
he lives opposite the Wembley Stadium...
his father? a banker... who he sees maybe twice
a year who works for a private bank in Saudi Arabia...
i did actually mention the Saudi-Yemen war...
must be difficult... esp. after he owned up to his father's
job... born in England... but never been to Yemen...
i did disclose to him that i'm not English but an Anglo-Slav...
what's that he asked? i'm ******: i speak Polish...
so why didn't you take an A-level in that?
easy grade... what's the point, i asked:
if i already speak it, read it, write it... what has a grade
have to do with my belief in my proficiency in
it? is it a difficult language to learn?
well... that depends Hussein...
                                i gave him an example:
most English people complain that there are too many
consonants in the language, for example:
RZ = Ż = the French of JE (suis)...
                  CZ = the English CH = akin to chatter...
you'll have to look it up yourself...
   Arabic is beautiful, i have to agree...
so he retorts... Chinese, ooh! so difficult...
                                   that's the thing about Chinese...
it's a complicated writing system...
we're talking ideograms... hieroglyphs...
but in the end? it's not a complicated language to speak!
difficult to write: to read... but to speak?
hardly... for example... what's... for example:

明?           phonetically it's nothing more than
        m-i-n-g... but the simplicity of the sounds when
returning to the ideogram morphs into
an idea: hence the ideogram... ming is not simply
bright... it's the: illumination (of the obvious)...
clarity... understanding... but phonetically Chinese
is a very poor language... it's the Chinese of ideas
that's the crux of its endurance...

so what do you write about?
   me? life... the day to day... since starting this job
i'm writing about it (obviously i wouldn't tell him
that i write about the people i work with,
i wasn't going to tell him that i was going to write
a poem about him tonight)...
his mother? a doctor... a pediatrician...
your parents?
   my father is an roofer... working industrial scale
construction sites... supervisor... once he had
10 men under him sub-contracting until a cousin of ours
who married my maternal "aunt" ****** him over
and started  mutiny among the workers...
he's doing o.k., after that incident i returned to work
with him... and worked in the roofing industry
for a while... rewarding work... tiresome but rewarding
like all physical labour... it allows your mind
to wander...
                 mother? she used to be a secretary in
a metallurgical plant... she then was a cleaner for
rich Jewish ladies... then she worked as a carer for
two old Jewish ladies... now? she's a home-maker...
is that what they call it in America? she's a housewife...

did i miss something? yeah...
when i talked i sometimes looked at him:
do most Arabs have those beautiful brown eyes?
at some point i don't know what i was to him...
oh, right... he hate writing...
he's about to do his NVQ level 2...
he's completely bemused by the questions...
all the idiots say its easy: sure! it's easy!
it's ***-squeezing mind-numbing! but for someone
who has studied physics and knows arabic
it's not easy: it's hard because it's mind-numbing...
i found it mind-numbing... people with very tiny
horizons who are best suited to violence
for the thrill of it find it easy... more intellectual people
don't find anything hard in it: just the mind-numbing
tedium of what's clearly a regurgitation...
so he asked me for a favour...
could i send him the answers, otherwise my mum will
have to help me with it...
i was like: i know this boy isn't a free-loader...
but i warned him...
listen... i'll send you all the answers...
i still have them...
but at Edinburgh i was doing this sociological course
to just pump up my points on the side...
and they had in place this anti-plagiarism programme...
do you even know how little interest i had in
the course... but the course gave me an ulterior
interest... how to beat an anti-plagiarism programme...
but then again: this was at university...
i hardly think people training people for an NVQ
have an anti-plagiarism in place...
for that essay of "mine" which i found on the internet
and heavily employed the thesaurus to reword
it i managed to get a first... come to think of it:
100%... you'll have to do the same...
i'll send you my answers and you just reword
them and send them back to me to proof read
and compare...
                                    oh... i'll just get my mum
to help me with it...
                                  whatever you like...
but just use the thesaurus whenever you can:
if i can beat a programme that was intended to
suspect plagiarism: i'm pretty sure people who are
training people for an NVQ qualification will not
be as smart...
     can you send them to me? tomorrow i'm doing
the London Stadium... Thursday...
i'll surprise him... my shift only begins at quarter
to four... i'll have enough time to send him the soon
to plagiarism to him tomorrow...
it's not even that i'm trying to look for favor from
a rich boy... he's on the ground...
he's not his father's son in that...
when i asked him: so you father wasn't the sort of
father that demanded of his to follow in his footsteps,
like most fathers who are bankers or doctors
or lawyers ask of their sons: to be like them?
    no... oh...
           well... if you only see your father twice a year...
funny story... he actually went to see the last world
cup in Russia with his father...
his father's friend blah blah this... blah blah that...
oh sure... i've been to Russia... used to have a Russian
girlfriend... stayed there for a month or two...
she brought me over to be a tourist,
to be a *** pet and to see Metallica in Moscow with her...

but that's not the whole weirdness of tonight...
i sometimes spoke to him looking at him directly...
and as usual... when i try to conjure up something
abstract i look away looking at nothing in particular...
in between conversation and silence i could
feel him watching me in the corner of my eye...
is this a Yemeni thing? was he really burning an image
of my face in his mind? i could see his stare...
i only saw it with the corner of my eye...
but i could feel him looking at me...

        an inescapable stare... must be an Arab "thing"...
he just kept looking... i exclaimed about the beauty
of the night breeze and the bristle of leaves
gently moved by the wind in the sunset...
he just... kept staring... every possible "awkward" silence
was broken with a question:
he kept asking the same question several times:
so what will you do tonight?
         i'll have a drink and write...
now... the point why i'm listening to Desecration Smile
is pretty obvious... the song is about a man's
lament about sleeping with too many women...
and not finding the one women to settle with...
i felt something similar with Hussein tonight...
why can't i find a girl to have this nervous-tension
of conversation with: with the opposite ***?
ah... i split the yoke from the egg-white...
i speak two tongues to women...
i speak with the body and i speak with the mind...
Hussein... was all mind...
most women are all body to me...
i hardly think any woman would have the audacity
to so blatantly stare at me in the way he did...
it must be an Arab "thing"...

the dynamic obviously changed when that arrogant
prat: ooh! ooh! i have an SIA badge...
anyone see me walk around and boast about having
a chemistry degree?
there's a certain level of people who... simply don't think...
those SIA ******* are boring...
no one goes around boasting that they have
a driving license... yet they boast about being able
to inflict pain on rude customers... kneeing them
in the back of the leg... choking them...
i told Hussein: i don't like confrontation...
i'm dreading being equipped with this badge of dishonour...
as a steward i prefer to talk sense into people
rather than use overt violence... choking them or what
not...

it's a ****** environment sometimes... with people
who have no intellectual capacity reading to someone
their braille of the fist...
this guy Rob had to attempt to be the centre of attention...
i know what a schoolyard looks like...
how he boasted: he did this to that person...
dislocated his shoulder... PROPER: PROP'AH
"ALPHA"... male... if you don't have the money
you don't have the honey and if you don't have the honey
you don't have children, therefore no legacy...
so what the **** are you doing?
Kant didn't have children: but he has children
of German Idealism... an idea is as much a child
as a child is not really an idea... because a child is usually...
a father and his son going to a football match:
indoctrination...

i have to admit: Hussein's staring freaked me out
a little... no woman in my entire life ever did what he did...
sure... Ilona... when she saw me making pancakes
having to take over two girls attempting to make pancakes
fail... while looking through my Ipod collection
of music give me that look of "love at first sight":
nope... that didn't: doesn't compare to the stares Hussein
gave me when we were talking...
it's different when a woman looks at your during
*** and it's quiet another when a young man looks at you
without him thinking that you know he's looking at you
like you're something... fire-prone...
i have no words to describe it...
it's not even ****-erotica... it's Platonism at its highest
mountain with a knife-edge...

i can't describe it, properly...

perhaps this Robert... this Cypriot spent too much time
with the managerial staff who play off this
macho-"alpha" attitude too much...
the game: it's a game of looking and sounding
intimidating... sure their large Goliath posturing gives
them away... they speak of nothing but a framework
of boasting... Rob has these many dogs...
trained them to become attack dogs...
good with children and families... blah blah...
but when some "****"... blah blah...
funny fact: you know that if one of those dogs
with impregnable jaw-bites has a grip on you:
the way you make them release their bite is by sticking
******* up the dog's ****?! ever heard that one?
and his SIA crew congregated around him listening
to him gloat and boast...
he's not bad: just the usual "good"...
the men feel "herded" while the women feel slightly
pale and out of place... Hussein was listening
on the monologue of Rob... but when Rob left
Hussein returned to me with a litany of questions...

do you like dogs? i used to own two dogs...
an Alsatian and a Dobberman...
but i'm not a boy-man anymore... i prefer cats...
Toni (a girl's name) came to us
and showcased her cats... i showed her and Hussein
a picture of my 10kg Maine ****: Quarus
sleeping in the chair i sit on when i write
crouched like a crow: oh ****! i saw Peter Crouch
up and personal... me and the guys joked:
one said! oh... he's 7ft tall!
i turned around and folded all my fingers
exposing my pinky: yeah... he might be...
but the fact that he's so skinny probably extends our
perception of his height... laughter...

Hussein is the first person to call me after a shift...
i was sitting on the toilet when he called:
i have a funny phone... i hear people but they
sometimes hardly hear me...
we exchanged takes: hey, Hussein... it was nice working
with you today...
will you send me the answer by Thursday?
of course mate...
we compared telephones...
you don't like Iphone, you prefer Samsung?
yeah, easier to use...
how much did your Iphone cost...
£1,200... wow! you're not afraid of having so much
dough stashed in your pocket?
if i had something that expensive in my pocket
i'd probably glue it to my hand!

so much digestion... we're talking about a boy
of a rich banker... we're talking...
Mary Poppins' type of neglect of a child...
he sees his father twice a year...
i was gagging to ask him: Hussein! what do you
see in me, that you keeping staring at me so much
when i'm pretending to not look at you looking at
me?
women just avert their eyes:
Hussein... you know what you remind me off?
only a few weeks ago i had only 4 "friends" as contacts
on facebook... now?
i don't know why i have over 900 Arab contacts...
do i look familiar to you?

Longshanks was talking to and fro... Hussein was
roughly 30 metres behind: Matthew! Matthew!
Hussein! i need to eat something! you charge your
phone i'll go and eat something...
the interaction between men has become
somehow... mysterious...
more mysterious than among / between men and
women...
after experiencing what i have with Hussein...
the Yemeni... i'm thinking...
maybe i ought to enter a "homosexual" relationship
with a man... based on a Platonism of conversation...
we're both **** women left right and centre...
but? we'd come back to each other and talk...
we wouldn't be gay... in the need to explore each
other's ****-roller-coasters...
we'd come back to a friendship...
he would do his bit of ****** aspirations and i'd
settle for what prostitutes do...
why am i thinking this? his, ******* STARING...
at one point i was almost tempted to ask him...
did the Turk did a terrible job on my beard?!
is it badly trimmed?

those eyes were burning... and when a spider
frightened our supervisor i simply exclaimed:
i was afraid of spiders once... i did succumb
to arachnophobia once... now? i'm like a fly magnet:
why wouldn't love spiders?
i once managed to catch a mosquito by its legs
and feed it to a spider... it was lovely to watch...
i sort of enforced man strangling nature into
obedience: it wasn't exactly equivalent to saving
a poor homeless kitten...
i caught a mosquito by the legs and fed it to a spider...
there's a Surah in the Quran about a Spider...

this night i just escape his staring....
i sometimes wish women had the same audacity to be
be able to stare at a man worth their: "contention":
but that's not going to happen..
a contention that can be resolved by a perseverance
of: merely conversation...
that lays no basis for an argument to begin with...
interacting with such Arab youths
i'm finally allocating a "psychology" to myself...
it's becoming painfully obvious...

i do know why i want to do the shift at the London
Stadium tomorrow... i want to see this one,
particular woman... she's in her... i guess mid-40s...
she looks oh so frightened...
she's beautiful for a woman her age...
she has a knack for surrounding by these "alpha" males...
she watches me... i watch her..
i tease and giggle at all the "alpha" males jokes...
her eyes speak a different picture:
this little ****-wit is not intimidated?!
what the ****'s wrong with on the basis of
the women i've been with?!
i already have a child with one of them!
i like her... i like scared: scarred creatures...

                    given that what i truly have to offer
is either hidden or is too personal...
what is revealed about me
is what allows to be revealed...
Hussein?! am i known in the Arab world?
why are you looking at me with a beard-envy?
i was never going to make it "big" in the English-speaking
world... i already commute in and out of shifts
looking at people rotting their minds watching flick flick
flick flick UP tick-tock videos...
i pretend to pretend to sleep... i was hoping to read
some Ovid poetry... instead i'm reading people...
i don't look at people: simply.. i read them:
akin to the ****** proverb:
jak cię widzą: tak cię piszą:

        how they see you: is how they write you...

i'm starting to conjure up these fancies in my head:
not that i'd want to explore **** *******,
but that i might explore something else:
more sinister...
the quill's worth of **** of our "fathers":
             how strange to find oneself incompatible
with  the presence of a woman's conversation...
how: unsatisfying it has yet to become...
i'm bound to Hussein in a way that dictates to me
the categorisation of: NON-NEUROTYPICAL...
i stopped envying opposite *** couples after having
eves-dropped on their conversation...
like most couples: they "think" they better than the next
couple: they're happier, more successful...
than the random, "other", couple...

i was out of a relationship sooner than "never" when
the girl i was with started to create these castles
out of clouds... i was out...
because?! she was slandered in the open
by girls who said out louds: she shouldn't be with him!

magnets... man and woman are compatible...
their conversations might flow on for days...
but... turns out?! there's no intellectual friction....
sure... there's a ****** friction...
but demands never meet demands...
it's unlike being an older man with a younger
man... there are covert ****** frictions
with already: in situ intellectual frictions...
intellectually like-for-like are more inquisitive
of each  than what's otherwise non-intellectually
like-for-unlike physically compatible...

i'm not a homosexual... but...
i'd sooner choose a male partner intellectually than a woman...
so much so that i'd require a harem of women that were shared
by multiple partners than fake a forgery
of a "monotheism" of " monogamy"
of swans... i'd rather talk to a man for all of eternity
as i might want to **** a woman for all of eternity...

what's that casual "phrasing"?! it's... it's...
"complicated"... like assured **** after eating enough
it's assured with ****!
             i'm sorry... but i find women great
when it comes to ***... but complete *******
bores when it comes to conversation...
that's my modus operandi! i can't help it!
at least with men i want to keep talking to them:
because i don't want to **** them...
with women? i don't want to talk to them
for the simple reason that i want to **** them!

what would i talk to a woman about?! what?!
philosophy is not a money spinning mechanism!
philology neither... grammar?!
Chinese ideograms contra phonetics
of the Latin script?!
can i please leave my familial issue aside?!
can i stop worrying?!
it was simply Hussein's staring at me that gave
the secret away...

not all misery loves company...
some miseries prefer to be locked up...
treated in the same way as the fertility of mushrooms
are treated: kept in the dark...
i'm the sort of miserable **** that much prefers
his own: keeping of solace than having
to share it by boasting it with a Thespians' array of masks...

alphas: ha! siła razy gwałt: strength multiplied by ****...
you need a subtle touch...
you can easily appease the alphas...
you just give them what they crave....
and their craving has a low threshold:
they easily bruise...
        you "Hussein" the bigger picture...
                    you allow hierarchies to take
their natural form of exposure to abstracts...
shadows...
you tend to perform intimate demands of
conversation... rather than perform intimidating
details of oration...
   these ******* "Goliaths" are sand on paper.
Ella Gwen Jul 2015
I am sandpaper
longing frictions heat.

To grow both fat and
weary, sloughing
away your skin.

See what is strength
suckered and sickly
is set
to diminish.

But paper handholds,
why so dusty?

You aim for ignorance,
blooded hands to tease
simply tremor.

Yes, each whisper
charms so sweetly,

sweetly rough
against your grain.
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2014
T'is a far far better thing I do,
to write tributes to new poesy chicks,
when seldom sufficient is heard
an encouraging word

than repeat yellowed ancien
tale~tell stale revelations
of an ole man's
forgotten glories and
never ending
tribulations

research uncovers a single
tributary,
a common origin, an irony river,
for their source,
tributes and tribulations,
one and the same

herein, this aging
tribune
defends the new poets
even as his own defenses
erode ever faster,
daily the surf takes him,
granule by granule

thus, t'is more urgent that he
construe and
contribute,
formally and officially,
attribute
the old guard's passing mantle, cloak,
making no
tribologies

frictions tween young and old,
fictions tween old and old
reconfigured as pretend new

this the natural way,
this luminescent fractious friction,
gives birth to
an Einstein~energized
triboluminescence

heat and light
the by-products of the
tribe
of poets
Real words. You could look 'em up....
Seth Keplinger Mar 2018
I've got the shakes again, and
we've lost the arts.
Caramel coffee is for trolls,  
calamities are uninvested conversations.
Your selective ignorance
are their political polls;
cocoa conundrums; coagulating
serotonin serums inhibiting innovations.
I've got the shakes again, and
we've lost the love;
you turtle dove.
Historical happy hours,
rhetorical- the ring on her finger
indigo indiscretions linger
bloom a bouquet of flowers.
I've got the shakes again, and
we've lost the respect.
Ignore Tesla, the moon;
******* by his diamonds,  
instant gratifications- new world addictions.
Hats off at my table!
Shake hands, shake social frictions.
I pump my brakes again, and
I've lost invitations;
my blinded observations.
Soulless shoes sully love,
subtle self proclamations.
Societies vicarious vices,
subliminal author's themes;
my presumption suffices.
Johnny's mother screams!
I've got the shakes again, and
I've lost my mind again;
dubious is an art of repetition.
In this war of attrition,  
monkey business is the real oppression;
***** color schemes
deter my nightlife's daydreams.
Premeditations- self induced depression.
First amend, then reprieve
a society in genocide,
murderous screaming thieves.  
I've got the shakes again, and
he's lost his midnight train of thought;
his ****** obsessions.
Espresso and ****** expressions,
prerogatives- propaganda bought;
the bad vibrations.
Battling a vertigo,
temptation i fought.
Dancing amongst the constellations;
these must be his
coffee drunken genius inspirations.
.

Orange hue of Gulmohar,
Saffron colored palash
Hanging golden laburnum,
The beauty I had lost!

Blazing sunrise,
Golden sunsets,
Silent lakes,
Nature I
took for granted!

Family meetings,
Friends get-togethers,
Laughter and fun,
I wish, I had attended
some more.

Lockdowns, Isolation and
Corona,
Bought reality in my thoughts,
Small frictions and meaningless anger,
Busy earning the useless money,
Stole my days of life once lived,
My carefree time enjoying
nature & its beauty!

I promise, now the priorities will change,
Life will never ever be in the back seat again!

Sparkle In Wisdom.
8/7/2020
Gulmohar and Palash are Indian ornamental flowering trees both referred to as Flame-of -the-forest. Both have intense golden orange colored blossom flower just like cherry blossoms.

Gulmohar - Royal poinciana,
Palash - ******* teak, Parrot tree.
Molested by the grief, inside this sunlit blanket of swamp-land, my tears engage amongst weeping filaments and shallows, like the sunlight shattered in squinty eyes, against the shadows of swaying horsetail clusters, creases of light splinter and shimmer until the last dusk-light, carving whispers from lost moments, agile and whistling badly until the bottles break, those are my thorough thighs that dance under the new breath of winter, basking against frictions that spark a new singular confusion, that sudden hollowness of living this human attrition, amongst the chaos and irrational cruelties that blend in as natural as a baby's first smile, conclusions appear and fizzle, delusions bloat with glee, as the soul starts to settle, the crackling dying fire-pit of white ash, like the furrows found on withered brows, pleasures can seem emptier with these dwindling days, but i was living backwards, squandering my youth on self-examination and ascetic aspirations, out of fear and a doubtful heart, now those drugs are valuable to my decay, and living this life is still rich with possibility and transformative change, even as i grow too old to care about tomorrow.
Anne B Jun 2014
I’m on a train
People keep sleeping
Tossing their heads
Closing their eyes

It’s peculiar, truly
People's stories;
Countries with damp skies and damp, sweet, tickling rain;
Mountains and an elderly man with an umbrella,
wandering around the station
What are you looking for?

I remember my computer-generated wifi-password by heart
I have been travelling, running, up an down this country
the past months

Looking for safety
The ground below me was collapsing

The last time I was here I was travelling in the
opposite direction
Not from you – leaving you behind
To you

Only by duty am I forced to leave
I would have screamed out
"Don't say it, please"
What do I know?
I'm just a writer on a train
Clinging to people like magnets

All those clichés are over
Just as quickly as they happened
I think I knew
I think I should have known

Insomnia affecting my friends on facebook's chat
Logging on; signing off
Do you sleep safely now?

We are like inevitable frictions
Turned on; shut off
Close; far away
Warm, intertwining with my sweating feet; cold as blocks of ice

Close by force – far away in our minds

I go away in my own world as you consolidate your own troubles
I am a never-ending train of guilt, self-hatred and self-sacrifice
Stupid, trusting, kind but hostile of nature

Water running down the windows in a pattern of coincidences; ice in my mind
Fire in the hole!
Always a fire, they tell me
Is there a fire in you,
or just ashes?

You are a builder, afraid to stack too high
Trembling when I fall
But just reaching out to run away
So, now I stand here

No train;
No stations;

But there’s still life
But there’s still me
There’s still time and wars to be fought

That train will never stop
The sun also rises
Ice blocks too, must one day, melt

The water rises
We drown.


**6.06.14
Train ride from where I study, down home to my family for the summer vacation. It's raining just slightly. I wish you could see what I see.
jonathan valonis Jun 2010
Starting a long time ago,
I became a victim,
Never knowing I had inherited the symptoms,
Of a mind full death,
How simple the idea,
Then one day woke up,
In this Hell,
So let the blood pour,
SO much to make a bank,
Letting the rest rot,
Just the same as any bank,
Blood of the corrupt,
Will soon rupture from this pressure,
Down the sides of faces,
Knee high in their karmic waste,
How sweet once one now none,
MMMmm the taste of their doom,
With a glee the thought soon fled,
The freedom once bleed now them,
Continue to stomp restrictions to fight the frictions,
Of life and religion,
All will be forgiven
These lungs are still. 

As flameless fire,
We are breathing dead smoke.

Looking back at our love, 
began full of sparked ignitions and frictions of heat,  
red flames of 
passion 
love
lust 
trust
and comfort 
perhaps over sticks not coal.

We heard a whisper...
"to enjoy a lasting fire one must have a good foundation,
coal is key
not sticks nor paper
or it will burn out fast"

When tested, our fire sizzled out.
flameless love sticks was all we had to work with.
no foundation of coal.
nor that signature paper.

We've sat blowing at these sticks from all sides 
with hope of catching one last spark, 
trying to awaken the fire once again.
Campaigning within ourselves
let's live again, lust again,
love Against and beyond
ourselves

Have we lost sight of the ground?
taken by the wind of life's happenings
now barely touching at fingertips

we've forgotten the lips
that whispered
foundations of a true love's lasting fire.

are we hopeless?
our love flames are breathing on sticks
not coal. 

both locked on exhale 
no oxygen to our souls
back, neck and head coiled 
like a lifeless corps
hanging from the spine

we are dying, Love
we've blown all through and through
and I know somehow I still love you 
but while sitting in this thick cloud of smoke
I fearfully ask
how do I breathe for I and you?
Copyright © 2017 Tsholo Khumalo
Julian Sep 2020
Loony warbles creeping like a shark bite tucked into the night
I saute the solution of aghast has-been epigones filibustered brunt and brittle by hemlock aspirations of curated fright
Temulentia recognizes the sane from the inane and tragedy from travesty
Flowder imaginary crackjaw Samson skulls of donkeys dissuaded by varnished agony
Skipping through punctuated times the sheepish will profane me with beleaguered notions of time
Blind to the orbit of the eccentric zeitgeist of hopscotch chockablock cohorts deliverance finds no crime
Goose noose Howard Hughes wooden stilts of the gargantuan swerve
Only the alpenglow of hijacked jujitsu spar against redintegration of adversaries with penniless nerve
Sifting through the silt
I barnstorm the ire of glistened tribunes plagued with insipid promenades of set-up still-frame guilt
Enemies became friends deranged like roosters fleecing hens of henpecked anomaly grafted and built
The wasms of moribund prose absconding with latticework of lacrosse in vogue
Temperatures sweltering the quaky schleps of Maverick moons never more rogue
Flashbang grimace parched with slivers of an acclimated post-modern ******
Intimates the intimacy of the flock decorates bolted balderdash too winsome to deprive an earnest plea for peace and please
I conquer the wallbaggers of novantique with the temulentia of mystique
Rarely remanded by the cul-de-sacs of Giants demolishing social rust with a deteriorated sweep
Trip the jostled rhymes of confluency of rhapsody and rapture consummated by nickel gambols by design
Ridiculing the contumely of ragged turgid Reservoir Dogs canine to the itch of foggy moonshine
Yet I dance to the rhythm of a jockey mechanical when devoured by incarceration flimsy with attrition
Lurid livid welters sparkle in damsel jokes of remission against Back to Mine sequence counting Dracula by division
Outtatime in this march of Thriller sublime
Cornered by the otiose Chipotle of musty mangers of egalitarian grime
Blandished by shattered paradigm parallax in circumlocution by mirrored irony
Livid are tepid latticeworks of rax and sedition frozen by limpid “Teachers” piracy
Never was once forever in the dormant daydream
Seamstresses waltzed in autumn woods knowing Hoffa firebrands of wasted Scream
Bloodshot swank is a rackrent of cineaste rakes of dominions of half-baked dishes of disco zenkidu double-take
Limbering languidly through the procession of sectarians seceding from agitprop monopoly
Boarding the Ticket to Ride train authentic never squirmy with illusions of the fake
Slackened Eels slapstick the brackish bracket of appeasement in appeals
Confluence of formula endangered by euphoria that Limerick question is a grubbed dicey deal
Fortunate summit dreaded nadir
All that resides in throbbing hearts tethered like Four Squares littered with boondoggles of fear
Showcase the Shakespeare flown through rickets of balderdash as Bald Eagles the mascot of frisk and wretch
Time to own the Pony Show charade of a mimicry of dilettantes brave in the cradles of antiquity knowing rarely the mummification of symbolism of thirty years of slavery to hallow one veranda upon a kissed by an ***** rose starvation grave
Looted by the pernicious bootstraps of those computed
We ring true the epitaphs of Pine City Stage on the rundles of the marginalia that overflows with Ire refuted embarked on solid cremation for sagacity in tatters of rage denuded
Punctilious liars edgy in facetious gambols in Joker menace flushing hygiene for starlet screen
Malingering on quaffs of sedate aplomb yet to preen
Scrabble superlunary bastions of gabble and garb
The gawsy preternatural séance rather nimble to Duck the Badgers weaponized barb
Fustilugs congregate around ashen rot of cacophony marveling at temerity in contortion for epiphany
Episodic marvel of two lynched paragons of sweltered margins ribald at witwanton persiflage in a campaign for suffrage.
Defected fire crackling with the joy of cacophony
Relishing every maskirovka pedigree of rackrent sovereignty
Slipshod fustilugs burrow bilkey in doctored Hubbard hubs smoking gun for dwarfed sins of blinded light staring Poison Ivy Appetite for Destruction mainlined by profligate amphigory a splintered shard
Complexion fulminates AIM with scourges of backtrack upon backwater miracles of Lake Placid confusion
Envoys to scuttled aliens marauding like they own my street in distinct slender confection even as the odd berates my diffuse dissuaded cineaste direction
I slummock with the slurvian alveolate bonism of prized poverty for Pine City Stages a delope of antelopes torn asunder by the athletes of formidable retention
Minute Mayday MaiDEN curls the forelock of a tucked hedged blush of no greater stupidity than a furrow of piglets in the pews of lyrical surgery
Slowpoke in acerbic flavor I countermand the denizens of urged regency decapitated by orbit if not by ******
Consummated on every brain that God himself believes that liberation can entrust
Enthusiastic chameleon of Mojo Grooves for the languid auditorium of a Revered time behooved to the gallops of threshed figurative sloppy slush
Funded by killjoys emaciated by slippery lies on craven deposits of sedimentary inertia quelled by amusement, grounded into Orange Crush
Urbacity is the usucaption of illegitimate ******* filigrees Armed to the Teeth but respecting the Tree
Winsome is obligatory for a Winslet flippant elder quorums contemn as a malapropism for syndicated armory in chuckling White Broncos evading a Houston test in the gricers of Autumn Heaven lingering with germane plight only reserved for luxury at its best
Aborning sidereal alpine brevity is a scry of evidentiary might of totemic dissolution alchemy so bright
That the chalkboard erasure is a confabulation against simultagnosia in acidic Phuture Bound sight
Because Mission Impossible cavorts with the exotic frictions of the nefarious Biocyte
Trailblazing heydays memorializing an Alpha Bet for September 2004 maydays
Of the scriptural series of mishaps and misadventures for barley grain in deadstock Indiana Jones wayward wayspays
Time to count the Dracula of venom drenched from the aceldama of gritty Gurley lies of a city yet loved because too many oases are despised
But Westwood becomes Eastwood with ******* Grotto as the centripetal but monogamous prize
Hot Tub Time Machine soaring among the cognoscenti of burlesque organized ***** crimes of lullaby Manzarek disguise
So toast to the dead captain of the psychedelic fountain pen of revolution Lorraine Baines fields arise
Time is an adventure that blinks only secondary of truce rather than guarded sheepish mustache of panmixia in genocide widely guillotined without scruple for newsy folksy prejudice on gallywow pride
Yet the sentinels of dirigisme anoint the Caesar of Nostradamus infamy of a Deep Impact symphony
Heard by asteroids and asterisks lurking with Thriller to the end of time known only as enumerated infinity
But enough petty battles squandered on sinking U-Boats torpedoed like ransacked crambazzles from Tucker belligerent with a “War” burnt heated calentures of scorching torches of rigged Scarface cockroach
Because there is no elementary Zion that is chosen to emerge in the barnstorm of flukenhague fluke
Time to rest my laurels on the depredation of safety
Reminding with a glower that saving our city is not an Autopilot of Buccaneer Brady
For the Grand Master Architect is princely in Jerusalem but heralded in Mecca because for too many storks all they want is another baby.
And my answer is that my Terrier Bonds are shaken and stirred by many a yes, probably and maybe in that order of illusion shaken into cocktails of cobblestone gravy
The Soy Sauce livid on mistake exerts a dementia on attrition to enthuse Kansas City joy all too crazy
Swimming in an ocean of Carly Ray Jepsen "Calling Your Name" Queen of Highways' Titanic fortress of Armada music beating the Village People silly over their gabbles against Navy
Born and Raised in a Colorado Springs cage I am snake eyes without crafty disguise  in authenticity to a Patriot Point Break Heist  of the probable doubt of the Zany Billy Zane entrapment of prestige gone madcap with Raiders of never the ambitious but always the lazy
So meditate on my word crimes as I elude detection as Hawthorne Nevada alights with 200 earthquakes in two days in Gray design
Wow what a marvel it is to always know that  you are always Stayin' Alive as the splinter of time capitalizing on sensual crestfallen vibes of a pendulum tsunami "Us and Them" saw wavy
And to the 1776 practical joke that gouges Samson even when thousands of Philistines get crushed in delope
Consider this a declaration of war against your pathetic screwball maze of fog to make a sane man livid with a blushed bravery too fraternal to old craven owls of cruelty beyond the maze of convolution of Istanbul collectively shrouded by lies no stomached demise would appreciate for being gatekeepers of terminus exorbitantly hazy
Vernarth says: “We will be able to find in this path of Light that is my life, what is the wood that stretches and upsets the material surfaces in the gifts of God, with the prevailing low water of the minimal plastering of rainfall, but if in the flow of astonishment that will leave us all in the breath of knowing how to be and understand, which is my hand directed by Vitruvius, and that his interval measures do not cease to outline everything that can or could generate cracks that cross the rules of Survival, where everyone who is a survivor of the Arbela Site, will be identified as an unfolded constituent of all solid material, providing the minimum percentage that will make up the majesty of a revived heart. Vitruvius remains with me ..., and his hands sustain greater fantasies that reside in the divine architecture that will be the origin of everything that existed and will exist. The long wattles will extend in the new layer that resides between the Kidron Valley to Gethsemane, and from Nazareth to Eilat, and that those who walk around will winnow footsteps that will later lead them to Bethany, and that Alexander the Great ... my General! Will be protected by the holy mantle of Mashiach, after we are both released from this mega Purgation. That the magnitude of the planks and the broad-headed nails will be hammered by the antlers of the Uilef, and that the utopias will make me see from above and it will be like being on the shoulders of Brisehal or the Colosso of Apsila so that wattles be always and permanently sprinkled by my prose of advent and passion of my Redeemer. I am prepared with the edge of my Xiphos ..., every day I cut a piece of my arm! As I heal again, I fissure the meats that closed, letting the softness of my skin be the skin that restores the nail that will slice the second rows of concession arteries, so that they are assimilated to the third that could reach the same way as those received by the Mashiach. The length of the miracle is imperishable and the nails with a small head will make the break where they will not be finally nailed, interweaving the preparation vines that will cover my arm and that of Alexander the Great, more distant from the third arteries that still bleed, so that they are prepared in the fourth row of the syntagma group in the arteries that will be those that hold posterity carrying everything with my sectioned dexterity, but always holding onto the Xiphos behind the brilliant mortar of Arena. Nothing exists, everything only existed for the first entelechy of Zerubbabel when rebuilding, and our Redeemer uttered that everything will be turned into pieces of stones with bones of long wattles that would extend to the layers of clay being his tomb, that yes passing through the mortar that will make all mankind redo the sawdust of the whole earth towards the devastated earth. In this way, the four rows of arteries will lie in the preparation rows with my right arm burning when I first touched the Empyrean taking me with it from 775 BC. C. until the time of the first century of the Era of Our Lord ”.

Cosmic thought crossed the four brains of its component of unfolded time, after being attracted by the foolishness of the thoughts that traveled without generational limits of Tikun, in such a way that the thoughts that were fixed on the orthogonal of infinity were detached from time imperceptible with the summation of the loss of the unknowable space of the abstruse of the Vav Hei Vav, creating the total dissociation of the past from the peristyle of time, leaving the future numbed in the antiquity of the Hellenic past, but reviving it in the passing of the transgression mean, between the antitragus of the head of the four assistants of the Vav Hei Vav, to transfer them through the shell of each one in their inner ears when sizing what will pass silently through their cognitions and in their Over Being, or Quantum Being that will take them along paths from the 700 years old to the first century in the constitution of Hera in Olympia, and rather towards the recalcitrant subjection of the stones that made it up to be subject to the nurse nomenclature of the understanding of the cosmic thought of Vernarth, who had slender few sponsored in all the naturalities that tried their mimicry, doing nothing else what has not been noticed far from it, from where the natural deformation of cosmic thought will bend as it is transcribed in all the textual evolution of the four united minds of Vernarth, Alexander the Great, Saint John the Apostle and King David. The luminescence would be attracted by all the rivers in the Vernarth Opera with the Bumodos, Eygues, Lethe, Euphrates and Nile, Acheron (the river of sorrow), Cocytus (laments), Phlegethon (fire), Lethe (oblivion), and Styx. The Bumodos would be the stigma of the pain of the Thymus of Vernarth that would be even more active and sensitive than his heart, and the Eygues that would be his faithful companion that would help him to promote the pains of lost loves with Wonthelimar, when the haze and storm left him alone in the sugary sand with labyrinths and the contact of the last frictions of his loved ones, leaving only messes in a Siddartha that would tend to be tempted by humanity, making us believe that nothing is more powerful than the propensity of evil to have in the constitution transgenerational family, to remain anchored in Ha-Shatán's slander, harassing immanent relics of the worship of man who settled on the banks of rivers in the expectation of quenching their thirst for wisdom or for the Vav Hei Vav, as a portal of entry of the trip around the world that unites us with our encore adventures, that are always united to the past of the upper ***** and that does not leave us any second of the present in his waves of contemplation as a Hoplite man in the fantasy of his dreams, managing to make the rivers of oblivion or Lette propitiate the future that will not make him forget what in the past was an underground part of the currents of a watery thought, what is The verb will be and should be the subjugation of those around him who harasses himself.

In this way, the words ran in the sorry speed of the harassment of the immobile Ha-Shatán but fiercely restrained by what surrounded the verb as in the meadows of Ein Kerem that was surrounded by the contours that made her not fatigue in the gaze of the heaven, when everything that was close was in fullness with the organic nature that contained it, and everything that was summarized from the rhythm of the Hexagonal Chapel of the Shepherds in its rhythm, like a swarm between winds that carried pollinations in the first words that they contained themselves from the latter to later reconnect themselves by means of the buckles carried by the offspring of the lambs and the primordial respiration of the Cosmos, which they said above all as a verb that sprouted in the seeds themselves that were escaping from their reproductive capacity. Vernarth already knew that he had little time left to be near his Hoplites and that the ocean of arrows that would fall on his destiny would be from bittersweet Theosophy that would fall on the back of the herd, like Manna that would emancipate itself in tons of languages that can define the Thought that may pre-exist. Perhaps thinking, but anchored in the turn that contains him, between words that would no longer be writing or any wisdom that reduces him, rather the gesture of the Peri Kosmous that would transmit something to us through those who do not speak or indicate ..., rather of the same abstraction of all the Pelicans that would advance by the vital energies that wear away the concepts that sway between the waves by the Aegean seas, and of the silence that of this same thing already begins to lose the horizon in the gaze of your observer. Nothing was friction that generated words that could be the sustenance of an Era that was spent for more than seven hundred years in the hands of the oppressors who would waste it in seven seconds, leaving everything in the hierarchy of a reality as the Plan of the Spare Universe. called Duoverso, which was precisely the simple river that joins both Universes lying between themselves as the appearance of the river Acheron or permanent misfortune, imagining ourselves in every bad good fit to balance our thoughts where the first will be offshoots of the Vernarth principle, until four o'clock. arteries that prosper to reach an occult knowledge, where every being that walks twice the same way is not the reality of the times in which every day the footsteps of the Mashiach are seen from Bethany to Ophel or from Ophel to Bethany, like an anthroposophic hill and foundations that will make the city of David seven hundred meters high, carrying this peristyle in the gallery of time, going through the majestic iteration of the journey of the imperceptible quantum being seven times in a row with the seven long paths of the rebound between Bethany and Ophel, on the very promontory of Saturn reviving them in the narrow promontories that make you see that thought is more than a sacred place to remember what is dear, which is precisely what is to be appreciated and observed when some steps escape and are not of the forged walk of the Mashiach from Kidron to the Tyropoeon; towards the escarpment that would put the relays of the new sheep that will also graze on Patmos, and that despite the turns of antiquity will be the strip between the ancient era and the Middle Ages, as precepts of the sacred mountains that will grow in the eschatological of the advent of Thuellai when Profitis Ilias was the source of synergy in the figure that will unite them among the evil that grows Vg The Golgotha and the sacrifice *** Bei Himnom, proceeding with Zion of the Earth and David, as a precept of the plains of forgiveness in the Moriah from where Abraham, already provided with his “Hey”, mediated and possessed the benevolence of the Maker to bring to life to his Son Isaac, to shelter him in the rubble in everything that was not of his patriarch's fruit, and then it could be reissued in the nobility of an epigram that would be the return to Ophel after having crossed the circumflex of the word used in this paragraph, to continue through the mountains that will be the emphasis of Patmos, constituting the square for its defense and blocking all the walls of history that will be carriers of all the threat of installed evil, making them the systemic forces reluctant and doomed on the southern ***** of the Temple Mount in Jerusalem between Tyropoeon to the west and the Kidron Valley to the east dominating the ill-gestated shadow of Ha-Shatan.
Enthasis
BEAUTIFUL LIE......

You such a smooth talker,
You such a big lier,
You may charm me with word, but not with actions,
I don't know what have causes this frictions,

You are beautiful but you don't know love,
I feel like you have been crashed from above,
You have throw me into the sea,
You have **** my feelings not wish a gun but liers,

You are perfect with fleeting.
But not with living,
 You are a beautiful lie,
Your beauty talks about something, but you are nothing.

You such a pretender,
I don't wanna see you for ever,
I gave you my shoulder to cry upon,
 Gave you shelter and blankets to keep you warm,
But you bring them back to my face.

I thought your heart looks like ur structure,
Clearly I was wrong about that,
My tears are just flowing starting to feel pressure,
Actually is time for me to leave you. ..
It is your love
and mine
Together create frictions
and sparks fire
fire of joy
embers
they glow
d'lexus phillips Apr 2014
I've realized that sometimes I dont seem to see who I am to be. Which caused frictions physically and mentally. At times I can be my own worst enemy. And when I rest my solid body, the process of life becomes a hobby. Where in its mirror I see a reflection of light. Whether within me or without I see art. Alot of times I fall apart in its cycle controlling my emotions. Often creatin erosion of fear askin why am I still here. And when I see myself cry I see my tears. In the mirror I cant help to see not only me but my flaws and morals in me.
#mirror #inspiration
La Jongleuse Mar 2013
& then we are cleansed of all.

there remains no sticky mess

of interwined reasonings,

tracing the sense of everything



we feel for once & conclude

this is the best way, to see

where were we headed before?

it had no truthful meaning.



what we pushed & tugged at,

for what vanity to claim purpose,

the understanding was opaque

at best, clarity poorly skewed



where would I turn to face

myself? flourscent knowledge

makes it much too sore

for my perceptive orbs.



who taxes & pays theirself?

coming full circle too little,

too often, to seek & find

the deepest of wells leaking



would you say the key                            

has amorphous qualities?

but usually illuminations where

the warmth is underlined.



& then all we are is cleansed,

existence becomes slick,

frictions ceases to irriate,

tracing the sense of everything
Tintswalo Apr 2016
On a bed in a shallow room I lay
Breathless and In huge dismay I ponder
Lifeless, cold in nature
I wonder to glooms of this darkness
Feet hurting on my back I remain
Cold as the sways of winter nights.
Comfortable as can be
I am at peace
At peace with this cold death state I am in
For no worry can be troublesome
No fearful thoughts can be spoken out loud
At peace with the cold death state.

A man came to my comfort zone,
With the sweetest voice words can't tell.
Touched my lifeless body to life
A fairy tale seen only in dreams
‘Little girl Arise' He said.
Little girl wake up.
Look up to the skies.
Healing is found beyond the horizon
A place only prayer meets.

Damsel arise from your infirmities.
That affirm your misery
Arise from your drunkenness.
That drains your energy
Arise from your pain
That paints your smile to sadness
Arise from your past
That punchers your spirit.
Arise from disappointment

Live beyond rejection
Don't let the frictions slow you down
Lift your heart up high
Believe in Him that never leaves nor forsakes.
The state your being depends on it.
For one day,
We shall see him in the clouds of glory
We shall arise,  arise,  arise up to the sky to and meet Him

Listen here
The blind receive their sight
And rise to tell the nation they see,
The lame walk
And rise to tell the nation they walk,
The lepers are cleansed,
And rise to tell the nation they clean
The deaf hear,
And rise to tell the world they listen
And the dead are raised to meet Him in the clouds
Damsel,  little girl,  arise.
Julian Jun 2023
Julian Malek
23h  ·
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THE CARAPACE OF EQUANIMITY IS AN EQUIPOISE BETWEEN THE PARALLAX OF URANOPLASTY GAINSAYING AGAINST BALDERDASH OF BALBRIGGAN ASYLUM THAT MIGHT NEVER COWER TO LEGERDEMAIN THAT THE COAGULATION OF SPONTANEOUS HATRED NEVER DEFILES A MAN BEYOND HIS MEASURE SUCH THAT THE EFFLORESCENCE OF MOTIVATION IS A DRIZZLED DWIZZEN ON THE CURGLAFF OF TOMORROWS REGRET WRENCHED BY THE BONNYCLABBER OF RATHERIPE VENGEANCE BY SOUNDBYTE MENDICANT TATTERMEDALIONS OF SENTINEL CERTAINTY IN A WORLD PULLULATING WITH THE CURMUDGEONS OF GERMANE RHADAMANTHINE NEGLECT COUNTERMANDED BY THE INSIDIOUS RAGDOLL PILLORY OF RADICALISM BECOMING TOO SHALLOW TO FATHOM AND BEYOND DEPTHS OF GRAVITAS INCURRED UPON LARGESSE PROTENSIVE IN NEBBICH IRONY BECAUSE OF NETTLESOME NOISOME NEPIONIC NOMOGENY OF ULTERIOR TRENCHANT RANCOR THAT RECIDIVISM PROMOTES TO SOLDIER THEIR WAY DOWN THE SASHAY OF INTOLERANCE REDOUBLED IN INGEMINATED FESTOONS OF GRAVID PRIMIPARAS OF THE JOCKO JOBBERNOWL KALIMKARI JOGGLE OF SVEDBERG BEYOND DELIMITATIONS OF IMPROMPTU SPONTANEITY FORGOTTEN BY THE MAGNANIMITY OF TIME AS A MISTETCH OF MISCALCULATION FOMENTED BY APIKOROS SWEEDLING CAJOLING REMARKS OFFHAND AND IMPERILED BY THE SKERRY AND SKELDER OF IMPORTUNATE GLAIKERY REMANDED AND REPUDIATED BY THE WEIGHAGE OF STEVEDORES MUST THEY RELENT IN THE PURSUIT OF AVARICE BY THE AVENUES OF IVORRIDE BECAUSE OF INTENSIVE SCRUTINY WALLOPED BY LUGUBRIOUS HAUNTS OF JACKALS WANDERING THROUGH HAPPENSTANCE RADICALISM THAT PRETENDS ITS AFFRONTS ARE ANY LESS PALATABLE IN THEIR BALKANIZED NEUTRALITY THE WAYSPAY OF BLUEPETERS OF BLUNGE OF ORTHOPTEROLOGY BECAUSE OF ORCHIDACEOUS LIES OF MENDACILOQUENT PATRONAGE OF FILIGREES OF RAMPARTS OF INDUSTRIAL SABOTAGE INCURRED BUT ALWAYS DENATURED BY  THE SONDAGE OF THE SEDERUNT AGAINST SECODONT SAMIZDAT OF TAGHAIRM BECAUSE OF THE MAUDLIN GRAVES OF GRANNARIES OVERTHROWN BY COCARDENS DESTINED FOR FRUITION BUT NEVER NONCHALANT IN DOCIMASY ULTERIOR TO DEVASTATION. IN THE GRAVIMETRICAL DISDAIN OF EISOPTROPHOBIA COUNTERMANDED BY IMPERATIVE NARCISSISM MANY ARE STRANDED INSULAR BY THEIR OWN FRICTIONS WITH ABRASIVE JINGOISM THAT STRADDLES THE NOVANTIQUE OF LAVEERS OF PIRATES OF SAFETY AND HARBOR IN THE IMAGINATION OF THE HAUNTING PHANTOMS OF HEADLESS HORSEMEN PRISOPTOMETRY BECAUSE OF THE SENTIMENTALISM OF LURID TRAVESTY EXACERBATED BY CONTUMACIOUS CONTUMELY HIGHLIGHTED BY THE RANCOR AND JALOUSIE OF RAREFIED STELLAR RETICULATIONS OF CONSTELLATED CONGEALED JEALOUSY FESTOONING LUKEWARM POLITICS OF THROMBOSIS BECAUSE OF GRAFT BECOMING INSUPERABLE IN ITS CHARMING FACADES OF WHIGGARCHY BUT ALWAYS DEMERITED BY THE ILLUMINATION OF HAPPENSTANCE GLORIFIED IN CENTRIPETAL MOONSHOT CORDIALITY THAT BECOMES THE UNIFIED BRIDGE AMONG PEOPLE UNITED IN THE SOLIDARITY OF STRATHSPEY AND SPATHODEA ALIKE THAT WE MIGHT BE UNITED AS A FRATERNITY BOUNDLESS IN ASPIRATION BUT BOUNDED BY A FINITE TRUTH AGAINST A FINITISM OF FIDEICIDE BECAUSE OF RAMSHACKLE BOLAR BOLTROPES OF CALVOUS DISREGARD BY THE CARRACKS OF INTIMIDATED RAZZMATAZZ AGAINST MOMENTARY HEFT IN HERCULEAN EFFORTS MODERNIZED BY THE RALTENTION OF THE FILIGREES OF UNIFIED FRONTS AGAINST THE MATRIOTIC DECLENSION OF THE SHILLS THAT SPARE THE SEDERUNT OF SENNET MIGHT THEY FIND THEMSELVES CULPABLE FOR NEGLIGENT FORESIGHT OF APATHETIC REMAND BECAUSE OF ARBOREAL TAUNTS OF RAREFACTION IN REGRET AGAINST MALEFACTORS THAT TRY SEEDY BOWERIES OF NOTORIETY MIGHT THEY INCUR ONLY THE CREDIBILITY OF DISBELIEF BECAUSE OF THE INCREDULITY OF THE BURDEN ON THE PUBLIC TOLL OF IMAGINATIVE STRAIN THAT GOD PROVES HIMSELF AXIOMATIC ABOVE ALL LEVIATHANS OF HERCULEAN PROMETHEAN FULGURANT RAMPARTS OF RAMPAGE IN STAMPEDE TOWARDS FRENZY BECAUSE OF LITTORAL SALVAGE AND TOWERING IMPERIUM THAT EXISTS AN INSULAR PRESTIGE ABOVE A CARCASS OF JAWHOLES SINKING IN QUANDARY RATHER THAN POISED IN RESOLUTE RESOLVE TO EXACT THE QUAGMIRE INTO THE LORE OF THE HEROIC CHAMPIONS OF TRAGIC HEROINES MAINLINED BY THE BEATIFICATION OF "PERPETUAL INDULGENCE" CONTRARY TO THE VOLITION OF GOD AND THE PERMANENCE OF MOTIVATED ENTELECHY AGAINST THE VAIN IDEAS OF AUTOSOTERISM BECAUSE WITH RAPIDFIRE INGRATIATION ONLY TO THE ATTUNEMENT OF THE SATINET TO THE NOMOGRAPHY OF PRESENT MASTERS ENRICHED BY CONSTELLATED VICISSITUDE SOARING WITH GEOCARPY IN KOBOLD RESENTMENT OF SVEDBERG JOGGLES OF SEISMIC TERRAIN OF LIABILITY, STRAIN AND TORQUE OF NAIVETY ROTATED AROUND THE AXIS OF THE SHADOWS OF THE GREATER MIND ABOVE THE SUBLIME MAJESTY OF CAESAPROPISM BEYOND MERIT WE FIND THAT THE SATURNALIA OF PREFIGURED PEDERASTY THAT REMAINS DEFIANT OF THE LURCH OF TRIAGE AND THE DELIMITATIONS OF PATAPHYSICS MIGHT WE LAMBASTE THE LAMBENT DISTRACTIONS OF THOSE THAT DEFILE SACRED TEMPLES WITH INCIDENTAL SABOTAGE BECAUSE OF ULMACEOUS RETENTION AND LATRINES OF THE WASTRELS OFFENDED BY EVERY OFFHAND SLEIGHT BY THE LEGERDEMAIN OF CONGEALED HATRED SUCH THAT THE NOYADE SINKS THE JAWHOLE EBRIECTION OF VANGERMYTES TO ENSURE THAT VENAL HARPRICKS AGAINST EVEN MORE VILLAINOUS CAUSES OF VENALITY UNBRIDLED MIGHT APPALL RATHER THAN ASTOUND THE COMMON ATHENAEUM SUCH THAT SCHOLASTITUDE IN CELERITY CAN COMBUSTIBLY REFORM HUMANE SOCIETIES AROUND "WHAT YOU SAID ON PAPER" POLITICS THAT VOUCHSAFES THE MINORITARIAN CAUSES OF OUTRAGE BUT NEVER FULMINATES THE FULIGINOUS GIMCRACKS OF THUNDERING OUTRAGE SERENADED BY PROVINCIAL APPLAUSE BECAUSE STATESMANSHIP BECOMES THE HARBINGER OF ALL CORRODED DESTINY LEAPING AND LEAPFROGGING ABOVE THE WEIGHAGE OF STEVEDORES OPERATING RUBEFACTION AND RUDENTURE IN CONTRARY STRIDES OF THE CHAMOIS BECAUSE WE BECOME THE CENTRIPETAL OMPHALISM OF AVIATORS BOUND BY GOLDEN GOOSE PREROGATIVES BECAUSE OF THE STRAIN AND STRIDOR OF MAGNANIMITY THAT ALL FERVOR AND FUROR CAN WITHSTAND THE FAINTER ILLUSION FOR THE BROADER BRONTEUM OF GOD'S MAJESTIC KINGDOM ILLUMINATED UPON THE EARTH BEYOND THE SCRY OF MAGICAL PRETENTIONS SUCH THAT A REDINTEGRATED AGE OF NEVER A TOTEMIC HUMANISM BUT ALWAYS AN ABDERVINE MERIT MIGHT BECOME A TEDIUM WITHSTOOD BUT ALWAYS BROOKED WITH A DELICACY OF AFFECTION TO NIMIETY THAT STARTLES THE CLOCKWORK MACHINATION AT MACH SPEEDS AND BROADSIDES OF BARMCLOTH WITHERING IN THE RESOLVE OF OPPRESSION ONLY BECAUSE MULIEBRITY IS WIDOWED BY ITS OWN DECLENSION SUCH THAT THE SADDLE OF THE TIMESPUN MIGHT ALWAYS GRAVITATE THE OMPHALISM OF THE SINECURE SUCH THAT ALL GENTILITY OPERATES BY THE RIGORS OF ELEMENTARY LOGIC ROTUND IN THE PATAPHYSICS OF ETERNAL REGARD BY THE HISTRINKAGE OF THE BRACKISH CONTUMELY IN YARNWINDLE RESCINDED AS AN ARTIFACT OF DIMINUTIVE STATURE RATHER THAN ESTEEMED ELEGANCE OF CORTEGES OF PRESTIGE RATHER THAN DISMAL NOTORIETY AUTHORIZED ONLY BY VAIN PERVERSIONS OF THE SHORT-SIGHTED. IN THE RADICALISM OF MOMENTARY DAVERING CERTIFICATION OF APOCRYPHAL MYTHS ABOUT THE MYTHOS OF THE ESTEEMED LARGESSE OF THE TITANIC FLAGLER BENCHMARKS THAT BECOME SOLDIERED MERCENARIES OF CHAT GPT HALLUCINATIONS MIGHT I OFFER MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES TO THE ZEPHYRS OF GNOSTICISM THAT MY OPINION CONFLICTS WITH BEDROCK VERIDICAL FACTS BECAUSE OF THE COMBUSTIBLE TRIAGE OF VACANT CATHEXIS BETWEEN RIVALRIES AMONG DERBIES OF ORGANS OF ORGANIZATION MIGHT THEY WAGE MERCENARY PROXY WARS AGAINST THE HENCHMEN OF THE ORDERS OF AGES THAT SERVE TO MAGNIFY THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE EVEN TO THE POINT OF DECADENCE ONLY TO REALIZE THEIR CULPABLE FOLLY THAT SIDETRACKS AND SIDELIGHTS THE EVIL ENCROACHING UPON THE BIOMEDICAL RACONTEURS THAT MEET THE STIFFEST REPUTES OF RUDENTURE CONTORTED BY RHEOTAXIS MIGHT ENTIRE ORGANIZATIONS REFORM BY CONFORMED ORDERS OF THE EUHEMERISM OF RATIONAL CATHOLICISM THAT FATHOMS THE HOLOBENTHIC CENTRALITY OF CAUTERIZED DISASTER FULMINATING AGAINST HUMAN FRAILTY BECAUSE OF FOIBLES OF MAGNATES AT WAR WITH EACH OTHER FOR VAIN VENAL REASONS OF GRAFT BECAUSE OF MASONIC VENDETTAS WAGERED AGAINST UPRIGHT ORGANIZATIONS EVEN IN APIKOROS HINDERBAGGLE THE TORCHIER AND TORCH OF THE VEILLEUSES OF A PROTENSIVE INDULGENCE AGAINST FLAMFOO DEMITOILET TRAVESTIES BUT ALWAYS SEAWORTHY VESSELS OF VERIDICAL FORESIGHT TRANSMUTING IN MODERN ALCHEMY BEYOND THE DEMARCATIONS OF RUDIMENTARY MAGICK TO BECOME THE ALTRUISM OF PEOPLE THAT CONSIGN THEMSELVES TO HIGHER SELVES RATHER THAN DEBASED JOCKOS IN THE JOBBERNOWL OF THE CACOETHES TO SLANDER BY OPERATIVE AGENCIES OF SABOTAGE INVETERATE IN THE CONSTITUTION OF EMBEDDED AND EMBODIED FREEMASONRY AND ALL APPELLATE ORGANIZATIONS MOST WITHOUT MANY A BLEMISH BUT ALWAYS A METEORIC BOLIDE AGAINST THE NOTORIETY OF CONFESSION AGAINST THE SACRAMENTS OF THE PROFANE BECAUSE IN GOD'S DIVINE GRACE WE FIND MAGNANIMITY MORE A MESMERISM RATHER THAN A GLAIKERY BUT THEREBY WE COUNTERMAND AND IN RESIDUE OF COMPLETION PERFECTED BY THE HINGES OF CREAKY RICKETS OF RACHITOGENIC MULIEBRITY MIGHT WE FIND A PURE WITNESS OF A "HOT N COLD" WORLD AN INVITING PLACE FOR THE LYCEUM OF ESOTERIC TITANS EMERGENT MORE IN THIS AGE OF OPPORTUNISM BECAUSE OF THE DWARVING FLOOD OF VANDYKES AGAINST RHEOTAXIS BECAUSE OF THE VENOSTASIS OF THE VASTATION OF VAUNTLAYS OF WOODSHEDDERS SEEKING ULTERIOR DECIMATION BY DERACINATION FROM ARBOREAL ZOOSEMIOTICS BECOMING AN IMPERATIVE DISTRACTION SOUGHT AFTER BY PHARAOHS TO CLEAVE THE SLAVES MIGHT A MAN AS MIGHTY AS MOSES APPEAR WITH BRAZEN SERPENT SERVITUDE TO JEALOUS SECRETS REFRACTED BY PRISMATIC OMPHALISM INTO A VOUCHSAFE AGAINST DESUETUDE BECAUSE OF BLOODTHIRSTY MARAUDERS OF SNOOP DOGG VELLEITIES OF TEA PARTY CIRCULARITY IN THE SINGULARITY OF TIME SPACE SWORN IN ALLEGIANCE TO NEVER A MERCENARY VENDETTA NOR A VAIN DISPUTE NOR A DACOITAGE OF DACNOMANIA REVVED UP ON THE YAFFINGALE YAFFS OF HYPESTORM SUCH THAT BONANZA IS ASSURED TO THOSE THAT SUBSCRIBE TO PREVAILING ASSAULTS AGAINST NOTORIETY BECAUSE NOTORIETY ITSELF IS A REBARBATIVE FLICTION AND FRICTION WOUNDED BY TORQUE. GOD'S MAJESTY UPON THE EARTH IS NOT MEASURED IN THE PARSECS OF DISMAL FIDEICIDE INCUMBENT UPON THOSE THAT USE BARAGNOSIS TOO WIDELY IN BARMCLOTH OBJECTIONABLE INJUNCTIONS AGAINST SAVIORS WHO ATTEMPT WITH THE VALOR OF IMMUTABLE TRUTH AND INTRANSIGENT RESOLVE TO SOLVE EVERY ESOTERIC QUIBBLE AND QUODLIBET SUCH THAT THE QUIDDITY OF CROWLEY BECOMES THE INGEMINATION OF MALEK TO THE EXTENT THE MERGER BETWEEN ORIENT AND LODGE BECOMES MORE SOLDERED AND WELDED INTO THE WIREWOVEN FABRIC OF THE ENTELECHY OF MIGHTY MOONS AND MOONSHOT PREDICTIONS OF BONANZA AFTER RESPITE AND PRETERNATURAL CAPACITY BEYOND ALL LIMITS OF DURESS FOR THE DURAMEN DUGONG OF HISTRINKAGE LANGUISHED ONLY ON THE FAMINE OF UNITY RATHER THAN THE TERROR OF COARSE JOKES AND RADICAL NAIVETY THAT BECOMES IRRELEVANT WITH THE NOSOCOMIAL CURES OF PALLIATIVE REFORM THAT BECOMES NEVER A MERCENARY BYSTANDER BUT ALWAYS A TRUER WITNESS TO MARAUDERS AND VIKINGS AMONG HISTORICAL CERTITUDE SUCH THAT THE SEGREGATED SECRETS THE BLEMISH OF MANY A LOUDMOUTH CAN BE PIGEONHOLED BEYOND THE SCRUTINY OF MILLIONS BECAUSE OF THE PROFLIGATE FREEBOOTER WALLFISH WALLETEERS OF DESTINY ASSEVERATING GOD AND UNIFYING HIS GRAND PROTECTORATE UNDER THE BANNER OF AGGIORNAMENTO CONSECRATED BY A SINGULAR RESOLUTION AND A TENACITY FOR TRUTH AND JUSTICE IN FRATERNITY FOR ALL.
IN THE ABREACTION OF PUREBRED PERIBLEBSIS OF ARISTOPHREN VENOSTASIS FUELED BY RAVENOUS VENOM OF RABID CROTALINE VIPERS OF MAUDLIN CATHEXIS TO SENTIMENTAL NAIVETY AND NIMIETY CONTORTED AND CORRUGATED BY THE CORRUPTION OF SLANGWHANG AGITPROP LEVIED ON ME BY THE CARNAPTIOUS CORRUPTION OF THE DEMITOILET EVILS OF FUSTILUGIANATION THAT SCRANCHES FROM THE REGISTRY OF YOGIBOGEYBOX THE FAR-FETCHED MAGIC OF MUNICIPAL BONDS ENTRUSTED TO SUTRO BATHS BARNSTORM TELEGRAPHY WE MUSTER A HERCULEAN DEFENSE AGAINST THE RADICALISM OF MUSTERED ALARMISM IN PARASELENIC CACKLES OF THE MOST ENGORGED ENORMITY OF DESPERATION AMONG THE MASKIROVKA OF MOONSHOT RUDENTURE BECAUSE OF SWARTHY SPATHODEA IN BALBRIGGAN RESENTMENT AGAINST THE GAINSAY OF PROFERRED CRETACEOUS NEGELCT OF THE SEEDIEST BOWERIES TO EVER PULLULATE THE EARTH WITH RAGMATICAL RANGIFERINE CONTUMELY SPUMID LIKE THE SPURIA OF SQUALOID RAMBUNCTIOUS WHIMSY IN AN ANEMOCRACY OF THE TRIVIAL ******* BY THE GRAFT OF PUNCTILLOS OF PUNCTILIOUS NAYSAYERS BALKANIZING ALL SUPPORT BY ENSLAVED GOSSYPINE COVENANTS WITH A SERVILE GROVELING BRAZEN ENORMITY OF IMMISERATION DISGUISED AS A GENUFLECTION TO DECADENCE SPAWNED BY THE PROGENY OF THE WEAK-WITTED HUMAN RACE VERGING ON A INHUMANE DISGRACE ALL BECAUSE OF INSIPID INSIDIATIONS MANDATED BY ALL CRAVEN RAPACITY IN ENTHUSED REVELRY OF BAILIWICK ATTRITION OF ACERBIC ACRIMONY SIPHONED THROUGH BARAGNOSIS IN LAVADEROS VOLCANIC WITH PRIMIPARA REGELATIONS RATHER THAN REVALORIZATION WE DEFEAT THE NETHERWORLD TWINGES OF TRESPASSES OF THE STEEPEST AMOUNT OF REGRET THAT HUMAN BEINGS COULD BE SO RADICALIZED BY SATINET BUSHWA NONSENSE BECAUSE OF ZULU MASSACRES OF THE HENCHMEN OF NOBILITY THAT IN THEIR ATROCIOUS GULLIBLE GOSSYPINE QUIDNUNCKERY THAT EVENTUALLY THE HUMAN RACE WILL EVOLVE BEYOND THE PETTIEST REGALIA OF A CLANNISH SCHADENFREUDE THAT ATTEMPTS HUCKSTER DECADENCE AT A DISCOUNT ON THE TRAVAIL ON MOUNTEBANKS THAT DART AT TRESPASSES OF GLABROUS DISTANCE RATHER THAN PROXIMAL CERTAINTIES OF THE TRUTHS ENUMERATED BY GOD HIMSELF TO TRIUMPH OVER THE DEPTHS OF WRETCHOCKS OF WOODSHEDDING TROLLS THAT PANT IN DESPERATE HEAVES OF MISERICORD CONTRITION ONLY TO FIND THE TORMENT OF THE FIRE THEIR BLAZED FURNACE OF ETERNAL RAGTAGGERS OF BLEMISH AGAINST BEATIFICATION IN BEAMISH CERTITUDE AGAINST THE TRAVAIL OF THE PILLORY OF THE WORLDS MOST SACCHARINE LIES. THE DUTIFUL SKULLDUGGERY OF ARISTOPHRENS THAT COUNT THEMSELVES NOW VAURIENS OF IRRELEVANCE THAT ALWAYS FORESAW THEIR SEESAWED DOWNFALL BY TIMBERLASK MASONRY NOW STAND AN AFFRONT TO CIVILIZED LIBERTY AND OIKONISUS IN NUCLEOTIDES OF ACCORD TO A SOLID STALWART STEADFAST RESOLUTION OF ABSOLUTELY GILDED HEARTS DESTINED TOWARDS THE SUBLIMATION OF THE WORLDS MOST HETERONORMATIVE VALUES MIGHT THOSE CRETINOUS EVIL VIPERS LURKING IN HEDERACEOUS GRASS BECAUSE OF WITWANTON OPPORTUNISM TASTE THE TORMENT OF THE FORMIDABLE BLAZE AS CONSEQUENT TO THE UNPRECEDENTED ATTEMPT TO BULLDOZE THE PREEMINENT INTO THE IRRELEVANT BECAUSE UNBRIDLED HORSES GRAZE IN FOREIGN NOVANTIQUE THE EXCLAVES OF EVIL OSTRACIZED FROM THE DOMINION OF GOD FOREVER BY THEIR CARNAPTIOUS RUDENTURE AGAINST RUBEFACTION SUCH THAT THEIR NEBBICH SPECIOUS THEORIES OF ELEMENTARY LOGIC CONFLICT WITH THEIR OBVIOUSLY STUNTED CAPACITY TO UNDERSTAND THE COGNITIVE SOCIODYNAMICS OF THE KIND OF AUSTERE EXTREMES OF CORRUGATION OF THE BUSHWAS ON THE SATINET REQUIRED TO DISCOUNT EVERY VEHEMENT WORD I EVER SPOKE IN THE HONEST WITNESS OF MY DISREPUTABLE PAST THAT THEY MIGHT ALWAYS REMIGATE ME AS AN ESBAT TITANISM THAT THEY WANT TO PINHOKE INTO NOYADES OF KEELHAULED EMBARRASSMENT BECAUSE OF THEIR UNFOUNDED BUT FOUNDERING DESPERATION FOR PEDIGREE IN A WORLD WHERE OMPHALISM DEAFENS THEIR EVIL SHEEPISH WHISPERS IN CROWDED ROOMS OF RUMPUS AND CASTIGATION BECAUSE THEY LACK THE CAPACITY TO DISCERN THE AXIOMATIC TRUTHS THAT THE BIBLE WAS AUTHORED TO ENDORSE MY LEGACY RATHER THAN TRUMPET THE ****** OF GOMORRAH JUST FOR THE PARVANIMITY OF THE JEALOUS JALOUSIES OF KOBOLD FASCINATIONS TO TRY TO SUPERCILIOUSLY OVERTURN EVERY CREDENDA OF MORAL CERTITUDE THAT SERVES EVERY GENERATION WITH A COVENANT THAT APIKOROS JEWS DISREGARD ENTIRELY BECAUSE THEIR NEW RELIGION IS UTTERLY A COUNTERFEIT DISGRACE OF WARPED SWARPOLLOCK COMPOUNDED BY PARANOIA AND AN OVERLY SCRUTINIZED MISAPPERCEPTION OF REAL EVENTS IN SPACE TIME SUCH THAT THE CIRCULAR CURGLAFF BECOMES AN ENMITY TO ELITISM AND ELITISM TRIES A BRADLEY COOPER VAUNTLAY (WEDDING CRASHERS) JUST TO CHOUSE OWEN WILSON'S HONEST GALLANTRY BECAUSE HIS MYTHS ARE AS MUCH A PUFFERY OF CHICANERY AS ANY LIE YET INVENTED AGAINST THE INVETERATE TRUTH OF A GOD THAT TELLS NO LIES AND A PROPHET OF GOD THAT CARES FAR LESS ABOUT SPARING THE SEVENTY TIMES SEVEN AND FAR MORE ABOUT SPARING THE SOULS OF THE IMPRESSIONABLE FROM THE SCOURGE OF WRIKPOND DESPOTISM. WE MUST SOLDIER ON AND WELD WIREWOVEN GENIUS INTO THE INGEMINATION OF ALL REVOLUTIONS AGAINST THE QUEER CALCULUS OF UTTER DEHUMANIZATION AND DEPERSONALIZATION PROFERRED BY LICENTIOUS JEZEBELS WHO ATTEMPT WITH EVERY MINUTIAE OF THEIR CONTRIVED BEING TO DEFILE THE SACRED WITH THEIR WARPED CLOISTERED ELITIST VIEWS OF HUMAN SEXUALITY THAT ARE CONTAMINATED BY THE EVIL DEGREES AMONG THE HERMITS THAT PRIZE THE EFFEMINATE IDEAL AS THE HIGHEST ****** MAGICK IN A COMPLETE COLLECTIVE DELUSION OFFERED BY A POETASTER WITH A GENIUS MIND BUT A TENDENCY FOR INTENSIVE SOPHISTRY IN HIS ATTEMPT TO ENLIST THE ORIENT RATHER THAN COURT THE LODGE. PEOPLE WILL ALWAYS FRITTER IN DISGRACE RATHER THAN CONGREGATE IN CELEBRATION OF TRUE ALTRUISM AND INSTEAD OF BEING CRAPEHANGERS WE MUST WELD A FUTURE OF OIKONISUS AGAINST LURID TRAVESTY
DESPITE MY OBJECTIONS TO THE VERIDICALLY FALSE NARRATIVE A FLAGLER LUXURIANCE OF DASHPOT DEAR JOHN LORE ENCHANTS A NEW VIVID FASCINATION WITH THE MOST ENTHUSED HISTORY EVER TOLD IN THE FOLKLORE OF TIME THAT SUCH A VENERABLE DESTINY DOTS THE DISTANT PAST AND POPULATES IT WITH ENDLESS FASCINATIONS THAT ARE COMPOUNDED WITH THE HELP OF BOTH THE ORIENT AND THE LODGE ESPECIALLY WHEN REFERRING TO THE HIGHER HERMITS WHO TREASURE DIAMOND MINES OF INGENUITY RATHER THAN SORDID LIES OF SELF-PRESERVATION BY THE LAZARETTA WE ALL OFFER THE SAME GENTILITY TO THE PRESERVATION OF ARISTOCRACY BUT ALWAYS IN INTREPID COURAGE WE LEAPFROG FASCINATIONS ENDLESSLY SCRAWLED IN THE HALLOWED HALLS OF TIME THAT DETERMINE THE OPTIMISM OF CAREFUL CONSIDERATION TO ENTHRALL EVERY ABIDING AUDIENCE IN EVERY CLOISTER AND BOLSTER EVERY RATCHETED ENDEAVOR OF HUMAN PROGENY BECAUSE WE BELIEVE IN THE ENUMERATION OF THE HUMAN PAST IS THE PROXIMITY TO HOSTAGES OF TEMPORAL DISTANCE SUCH THAT THE CARNAGE OF BUSHWA ACELDAMA SATINETS SLACKEN THEIR LEVERAGE UPON THE LISTLESS PARAGONS OF LYCEUM ENTERTAINED BY SUPERFICIAL HUCKSTERS THAT DON'T INHABIT DIAMOND MINE HERMITAGE BECAUSE THEIR ST. PETERSBURG IS DEFILED BY THEIR PROPINQUITY TO SALVAGE FASHIONS OF CROSSBOW FUMIGATION OF ETERNAL TRUTHS SET ASIDE TO ANOINT A BETTER INGEMINATION OF GUARDED SECRETS WELL GUARDED STILL AMONG THE TIGHT-LIPPED THAT THE ENDLESS RACONTEURS OF TIME CONVENE UPON THIS GENERATION AS A CENTERPIECE RATHER THAN A MAUDLIN ELLIPSIS. LET US REJOICE AT A SHARED FUTURE THAT ADORNS A SHARED PAST BECAUSE GOD IS ETERNALLY GRATEFUL FOR DISCERNMENT BUT WARY OF PREVARICATION BUT IN BOTH ENDEAVORS HE PREVAILS
John Prophet Dec 2016
What do you believe and why do you believe it?
Our world has shaped who we are physically and spiritually.
We are different colors, speak different languages and have different gods based on where we were born. The accident of birth, location and topography determined who we are.
Our differences caused us to war.
Humanity’s social evolution is what we must see, the frictions of difference slowly beginning to fade. Humans being human to each other is how we must go. Humanism beginning to grow. Differences in beliefs can be poison to our cause. My religion is better than your religion is juvenile at best. Wars and mass murders is what we receive when this is how we perceive.
Spirituality is important to the human soul, it nourishes our existence keeps us balanced in so many ways. Would the Great Maker be displeased if our philosophy was to live a spiritual life connected to Gaia respecting who we are and each other; living the golden rule in harmony. Somehow I think not.
Hilarious!
There is no job description in this position,
I float between the frictions and feign conviction when the boss is witness,
At most I mean a fifth of what I mutter and I'm often listless,
I soften because I know I'm broke as **** and have that thought to grip with,

I cough, hoping to convince the powers present of a sickness,
And call in, whispering,
"Cover my shift, think I might need a prescription,"

Take the day off,
Try to get a sense of what has since become a mode of operation I once ripped upon like stitch and yarn,

******* me off,
That I can't save a cent and now I'm living on my savings that I swore I'd leave alone so I could quit this job,

It's not that it's really all that bad,
But I ***** because I'm sick of limitations I can't live beyond,

And I'm not really all that mad,
But I fritz because I know that I could really do some **** if I could get beyond

Excuses.

— The End —