.in a land, where, ahem, "supposedly"... the one eyed man leads the blind? that oeuvre proclaimation? hard to... give the one-eyed the mastering of the people, who can see, no? as the one eye-man said, son of Odin... the two eyed are as blind as the no-eyed, in that they cross their eyes, and imagine themselves drowning... i see a serpent... without eyelids... perpetuated spine of lizard, cranium of cold, venom... the hebrew didn't exact... "justice" by ensuring the lizard to be left, wriggling, spine-esque, without attachment of limbs... no... the real torture? the torture that Moses didn't speak of? why, why oh why, did he leave the serpent without eye-lids?! i ask, because a mammal, a bonsai tiger is playing the role of a bassett hound, he's a maine ****... and he, for some, reason, enjoys my company... the fact that the "devil" lost his limbs... i'm not here for that... i'm here for the fact that serpents... spine and cranium remnants of dinosaurs... have, "apparently"... "lost" their eye-lids... imagine the agony... of falling asleep with your eyes open! sympathy for the devil? well... is there really any sympathy for a god or the gods? beside the point... ever since i was born... for all the creativity of the h'american people, their primitive christianity was perpetually sentenced to be abhorrent for me... i could never stomach it... that being said: so what their atheism. i could never stomach either side of the argument... at least with the russians you were told to settle for the kazakhs, those pseudo-Mongols... then, those, intermediate mouth-offs of the english... it's like a dog dies, but you can never get the fleas off of a dead dog! they keep on biting, trying to "revive" *******, akin to 20th century's 1960s zenith, "property allowance of dictum". let me just say... how god cursed Satan... to be left without limbs... is how he cursed... the fact... that dinosaurs, "once upon a time", ruled this orb... limbless sidewinding spines and brains? that's not the real... "pardon", for the emergence of man... do snakes have eyelids? i'm pretty ******* sure they don't. big tigers... tigers and lions... what about the domesticated bonsai tigers? last time i checked... big cats... tigers... lions... they had eyes... that resembled mammals... their pupils dilated, or contracted... cats? the bonsai? why do their pupils resemble lizards? ******* spies! leather in furrs! what's that old christian metaphor of wolves in sheep clothing? that's it, isn't it? well... here's a ******* update: lizard leather in bonsai ***** furrs! i keep having these blinking matches... with my maine *****... yes... the basset hounds of the feline kingdom... blinking matches, wavering: staring contests... the poverty of the metaphor poetics of Moses is finally revealed... you trust your cat? sure as **** your cat's eyes do not dilate or contract like a tiger's or a lion's might... there's a ******* lizard spy in that cranium of their, "cute"-ness... i'm pretty sure the eyes of a tiger, or a lion, become O from o... regarding the pupil... and not O from ()... slit. again... the biggest curse of the "devil" (dinosaurs) was... to craft a slithering pickle jar of a lizard's worth of a weaving spine and a brain cell? or, the fact, that, serpents do not have eyelids?! that they have to black out to craft a pair of eyelids? that they have to binge... and the reason why they ingest a whole body, is so that they can digest a whole body in order to fall asleep, with their eyes, open? i have just left, whatever was the worth of the poetics, associated with Moses' genesis... some **** ***** can play around with a serpent for all i care... i just need to hear a sssssssss sound in my head... find a cat sleeping in my bed... and say: those eyes are not big cat's eyes... they change from mammalian through to lizard... cats are dinosaurs' spies; and no, the curse of leaving a serpent without limbs... which explains the ******* crocodile... the komodo dragon... i'm worried that "god" took a snippet of the eyelids of the serpents... the "retrospective" lab. specimen of the remains of the dino. inquiry into the past of this, orb.

o.k., so i integrated, now what?
can the anglophone world
put away its ******* of giving
everyone a fair chance when that
supposed "fair" chance is
a neurotic take on not being "racist"?
what, a, load, of, *******:
  and pastoral ****-heaps of oops -
i should have migrated in my
teenage years and kept my
diacritical exfoliation,
       the distinction by accent if not
by colour... but i'm sure you're
well aware that the oliwki -
i just call the ******* olives -
              have a joker card of the obviousness:
i.e. like ******* are descendent
of an eskimo...
                 today is the first night
of night frost...
     metal is hit first,
the cement paparazzis are not yet
economised -
                        and i find it a waste of a day
in winter if i see sunlight...
    so i go back to bed:
the plan was always:
go to sleep in the night,
wake up when it's night.
           i'm not buying it...
              but i should have really
misguided by efforts in learning this,
god-forsaken tongue,
imperfected it, rather than perfected it,
retained the: free meal ticket of
the ******* accent and then scream
when the opportunity came: racism!
racism!
                  easier if i were olive
skinned...
                free rides like that don't come
so often...
         the english have become
neurotic beyond compensation!
      i'm not nervous about being called
a racist or a ****... call me that enough
times and then a lightbulb moment
will, happen... problem is:
i'll embrace that stereotype with as much
gentlemanly airs and "concern" that
will only be made for the opposite
party to not distinguish politeness from,
ridicule...
              no no,
these people will not be riddles -
they'll be ridiculed, a massive difference.
i sometimes regret learning the english
language to establish myself by the native
standard of talk,
  because once you've attained that:
then what?
     you already have a meritocracy that's
build upon: what's best representative
of your multiculturalism -
apparently the whites don't distinguish
other whites...
                    as it is clearly seen:
christianity taught the nebulous blood-thirty
barbarians a culture of masochism...
            it's actually painful to hear
a german speak, less painful speaking
german yourself...
       herr... wachsen einige hoden, bitte!
danke.
           it just looks like watching a boxer
in match wearing a ******* tutu.

    willkommen! zu aufpassen:
                    die zeit zu kommen sie!
*****-brute-deutsche...
    hündin-brachial-ßaß!
           ­      ich: jawohl!
                                  
   you want to punch: you better want
to punch high, on the head...
for the... ******* concussion
    (die gehirnerschütterung...
guess what... no trenches for you...
chemical nouns!
  ficken feen paddy kobolde -
    glücklich?!)

there has never come a time,
similar to this,
when a ******, a polen...
would, love, the deutzsche-zunge
as much, as he might love it now...
weird... seltsam...
                gott, mit uns!

memories of my grandfather's plea:
herr! bitte bon-bon!
         before the soviets came
and decided to sleep with the goats...
kommen auf ein metallurgiefamilieanfänge
(carbohydrate enough for you,
mrs. khan?!)
          what is it with me and the allure
toward the german tongue,
away from zee Ęnglisch?!

       i have an idea, or, two...
so many pakistanis with khan
as their surname...
it almost makes you, "wonder"...
islam blah blah this,
islam blah blah that...
       a lot of pakistanis with
mongolian surnames...
       time to find the wound...
time to find the salt..
  don't you think?
     oh: nicht bitter...
                       wirklichkeit... prüfen,
eh?
                i can't, or rather,
i don't have the energy to hate,
or remind the saxons,
their misdeeds...
              ich bin müde!
                i am, tired...
    see? no diacritical marks,
i have to make up the "loss" with
punctuation markers...
                            kennt ihre nachbar!
liebe? liebe?!
                   kennt ihre nachbar
            wie dich selbst!
liebe?! ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
sagte die eifersüchtig gott...
liebe?
                how about: know your neighbour
as yourself...
      the command, love your neighbour
as yourself... can we leave that sort of *******
to petting cats and pigeons?!
i rather know my neighbour as i
might know myself...
        love is never a part of the golden rule
of universal application...
  love is a futility of diminished
senses...
       i rather know my neighbour,
than love him,
as much as as i rather know myself,
than love myself.

so when's the next *******' worth
of riddles going to come from?
   palestine...
  look, i've already exhausted the "jewish q.",
i'm tired of jewish wisdom...
what's next: the arab pandora's box?
great!
    mind you... it's so nice to see
the yews the yids, the 'ebrews
making fwends with the arabs again...
hell: goat herder met another goat
herder...
       which leaves the argentinian
neo-nazis with the beef!
            and some of us:
with leather shoes, belts...
                 jackets... and... bacon!

god bless... this wonderful world!

herr... wachsen einige hoden, bitte!
danke!

what's the point of integrating into english
society, when, once you have:
you get the cold shoulder?

is it really the immigrants that are the problem?
oh, right, the english always know
how to categorise migration -
economic, refugee, migrant, immigrant,
emigrant -

    but they're always the:
        expatriates -
how nice... how nice indeed...
              i wonder what the australians actually
think of the english, or the h'americans...
the english have this delusion of always being
welcomed with: open arms!

two-faced delusional *****.

to have learned a language beyond the capacity
of some natives, and still be treated
on the basis of: distinguishable white over white,
in white...

         mr., grow some *****, please!

but it doesn't matter in england:
the first rule of integrating into english
society is that you forget your native tongue,
that you become idiotic monolingual,
the second rule of integrating into english
society is that you bleach,
the third rule of integrating into english
society is that only curry is a welcome addition
to "expand" on english society,
the fourth rule of integrating into english
society is that you: demean yourself -
you are to speak the crass of what is already
cockney and never make it to kensignton palace
high brow...

other laws included -
                         hell, do i feel inadequate?
          i feel unrequited -
the english two-faced ****-show of a cold
shoulder... hell... if i sported a turban i'd
be walking like a swan on champagne flutes
because the "racist" neurosis of the english
being knackered by being called "racist" doesn't
exactly spell out w.h.i.t.e. -
they're closer to the ******* continent
and yet the icelandic people are warmer
and more connected to the continent,
even though they're further away.

- and have you noticed how the english
never considering themselves immigrants?
they have that poncy name for themselves
moving elsewhere...
they're not migrants, immigrants, emigrants,
they are: expatriates...
afternoon tea sort of ******* with Mussolini...
     me? i repatriated...
                    well, considering the fact
i came upon these *shores as a child of 8...

   but do these english slouching sloths think
i will treat every citizen they "provide"
as royalty?!
                who are these people?!
         i'm not about to treat some peasant
like a ******* prince!
                   do these people even remember
where their place is?
                i've spent 3 years among the picts
to know where the gob and the heart are...
and where the feet remain:
on the plateau of the earth!
tilled, cemented over, unearthed, trodden!
          
yes, this is what vitriol looks like -
   it's not exactly a tirade -
             i like to think of it as:
   a delayed practice of politeness -
       at least the canvas is pleasant enough
to start a fire, of caustic wording...

                 sure, i don't own the land,
but neither do the people in my vicinity of
interaction, so why should i somehow, debase myself,
i speak better english than authentic english,
with some exceptions of course,
                         but i will not settle for some
excuse with regards to not sounding native...
           when the supposed "native" is donning
a ******* turnip of a turban -
              
and yes, i appreciate the fact that this might
be deemed "racist": at least i'm not neurotic
about it...
            and what will be realised after a certain
amount of time:
            when a person is tickled with the term
long enough: he will embody it,
                  but then express it with the airs
of pomp & circumstance...
   he will gain arrogance from it,
and an air of authentic superiority...
                      he will start strutting in his
well polished black leather boots like
a spanish fascist...
                                  
                                    only because we lived
in a zeitgeist von die fehlbezeichnung:
     a zeitgeist of the misnomer...
                           just plain sight neurotic behaviour,
the traditional walking on eggshells,
just prior to: walking on skulls.

   the times just before boxing gloves are donned
and the straitjackets taken off.

deine Blicke sind stark
stärker als ich jemals sein werde
viele Lichter sind erloschen
doch dein Leuchten führt und leitet mich stets durch die Nacht
Orte, Städte, und die Wälder wirken so trostlos
doch hebst du deine Mundwinkel
siehst alles gleich viel heller aus
du lässt mich wachsen
wie die Sonne in der Blütezeit
du kühlst mich ab wenn ich mal wieder überhitze
wie das kühle, klare Wasser an einem heißen Sommertag