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Ψ:                                           ж

           зъ                       ż    

    ць                                      ć          

                   зь                   ź

       Ḫ:                                нь     (ń)

    сь                                 ś

                                     szczerość

   Щ    (шч)       эpo     (сьць)  

RZESZ RZECZY...

   Ойче наш, ктурысь ест в небе
  Ojcze nasz, któryś   ((י))

               'est             w    n'eb'e
jest:              ест в небе

      ЖЭШ
            ЖЭЧЫ
          
   a potem:            ютpo  
                  tomorrow   (jutro)

   ja        
   ju
                          (j)e      ('e)

                           ale...  ниэ йэгo

to ten:                        йoвиш
       Jowisz: 'upiter... drzema...
                                   ёвиш
                      Aesthetic Roma...
          
    no words that begun
to later begin with ji: pij! drink up!
              
or as Yashuv said upon reconciling
himself that there would be
no Catholic Confirmation
or that a Confirmation
like               Яaшув    wouldn't
be recognised alongside
"gift of god" and "wise council"...

but perhaps not in this tongue
petition to treat Y as a vowel
and not as a consonant

that leaves Y[3]H[4]W[5]H[4]
with five vowels
aeiouaeiouaeiou leaves a remainder
of [1]

a  e     o u     i u e    i o
  Y        H        W       H
   i       a  e      oa     u  y

                                                           :Φ

ΛIVI:                

  (A). as much as my wife might want
me to go to church      
    (B). and as much as Jesus might
have saved me
  there's that glaring omission
when it comes to sharpening
or even blunting the intellect
and playing with words and letters
and from I heard:
   there's not much of that
in church or if there is....
it's almost strict
            puritanical etymology -
harsh by my standard
taking sentences apart...
     why not bypass that and head
for atomising words and breaking
them into letters and sounds
like:

KE KUKE PUPUKA (the ugly chef).
Try to define
consciousness
you haven’t
the tools

Try to define
instinct
the same kind
of fool

Try to define
reason
misusing
the words

Try to define
wonder
unseen
and unheard

Try to define
sleep
when lost
in a dream

Try to define
presence
with space
— unforeseen

(Rosemont College: March, 2025)
He walked in the fields alone
The clouds above big and heavy
Dark grey, filled with gloom
Every other noon

There was no road
Unsettling music was played in the sky
Orchestrated by the clouds

He walked unafraid
Not knowing his fate
Desirous of the rains

He had tilled the land
Until it grew green
Prosperity rained

He stumbled upon the gold
In the ancestral remains
Deserted by the predecessors
He thanked every grain
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office


                                          And Your Word Is…?


                                          “The word is given!”

                  -John Derek as Joshua in The Ten Commandments


When all have gone to bed

You slip quietly into your room
And sit at a table bare of everything
Except for a solitary candle
A pen, a sheet of paper, a bottle of ink

You then write down your day, your acta diurnalis
Every action and thought, every glance and breath
Every hope, every failure, every fear
Every little victory savoured with delight

In only a word, a word, a glowing word –
What is that Word?
My hands sighed as
They held my head—
The weight of my tears
Crawled along the skin,
Making them weaker
And weaker until they
Settled into resolve.
I didn't die:
the poetry
and the music
still dwells
in my inside-
a monument
so beautifully
constructed for me
there to reside
distilled with billions
of blissful musical notes
and such wonderful words
that shall eternally
inspire and abide-

the earthly world
so drab, so weary
so feverish
and so dreary
melts away -
it can no longer
cloud or drown
such divine sounds
nor any sublime word
be brought down

a final farewell
bidden
without a tear
or fear
a lush garden
is hereby born
with the best fruits laden.
Science
never answers
the primary
questions
it ponders
in circles
deck chairs
rearranged
Reciprocal
theorems
of self
aggrandizement
indentured
to kingdoms
where dilettantes
reign

Why
is there love
why
is there war
why
are we human
why
do we grieve
Why
do we question
why
is there joy
why
are there feelings
that
foster belief

Is
consciousness
timeless
do thoughts ever die
is prescience
a quotient
does truth
ever lie
Is looking
for answers
outside the true
realm
the act that
betrays us
and damns us
— to hell

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)
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