Sep 2017
my, my... haven't these people become, oh so audacious, and they believe themselves, so firmly placed, so crown-corone: the crown above a crown assured, that they alone reside with cradle of history... my my! aren't they just the brats we all were looking for! they alone, are the erasing force of "mystery", to combat "mythology" with their own "plagiarism" of said facts?! wonder behold! the 8th clarity, that of the english language itself! kindest gentlemen! i implore! salvage your honours, let the titan sink! no?! marvelous! who are these gehenna baboons tricking? we are assured clemency, are we not?! these people seriously believe they are the sole inheritors of history! oh no, this is a europe within a europe type of game... i have my history, just as much as you, have yours... you erase the pride i have in mine, i erase the pride you have in yours... simple as 1 + 1 = 2... you squalid ****-pants think that a brexit will make you look better? no **** sherlock, you have the honey! but that makes you segregational in politick? i don't think... making it look nice will not make the belgian choc-makers sense a false deal in hands...
you have to learn one thing about the english,
they're polite, i give them that,
but they're also two-faced hydra-thisted liars...
i once took to liking them,
but after a while: i took to liking them:
by hating them;
they just became these annoying
gnats of purpose, something you'd
rather shake off, rather than keep.
and like all good western societies -
the history had to be upkept -
western europe mattered -
eastern europe was... "exotica" -
i love these palm tree jerkers off -
makes me feel right on time with
harrod's shelving oysters...
real bwitish -
cognac in the congo while
the belgians spontaneously sprang
into the vocals of: aussie aussie!
oi oi oi!
wankers;
i just keep imagining shoving a 100
toothpicks alongside 1000 toenail
clippings up their gobs to prove a
"point", although none would have been
reached.
the **** do you mean foul mouth?
last time i checked you had bigger problems,
via dyslexia... foul mouth that
first.
and to me shakespeare is only macbeth:
open locks,
whoever knocks -
open skies -
whoever cries: a lone wolf -
one in every one of seen stars -
whoever the day unlocks -
open skies,
and with star a breakfast
made, least one, least two,
least one count
worth two passing days
of feud...
open skies,
a sunrise and a set,
twinned culprit of the hour -
upon both the hubris
of unfashionable "concern" -
that they may settle
a least, while gambling
the most of said affair:
to dear malevolent
search of conquest -
reignite, the revisitation of
the endearing power-laden
desire for:
kept quest -
of arm in arm -
with both body,
as too with the shadow -
that medium of contrast.
so much so...
longinus podbipięta*
herbu zerwikaptur -
to have owned a sword that
cut off three heads of
teutonic knights, and later three
heads of ottoman turks...
to have made that righteous plea
for puritanical reasons -
that medieval rite of honouring
the chaste and the brave...
but in western europe,
no few if either if not any histories
meet within the frameworks of
the three days that history
encompasses:
yesterday, today & tomorrow...
for all i know:
slavic languages have clear syllables -
and even clearer letter to state -
if the prime be french babylonian
muddles - then english follows second -
these are the twin languages of
neo-babylon -
with their muddled syllable "chemistry" -
they're so unclear in what they "want"
their languages almost resemble
their: women...
slavic languages are known via
the mongol to have a chinese
ethos of clear: distinct: syllable clarity -
since they possess a clear unit
division of syllables into letters...
seriously... all it took was to ask me:
sh = sz
as ch = cz -
yzwz -
god is a word solely prescribed for
thesaurus rex -
god is anti-grammatically categorised
as mathematically vector -
god is not a dictionary word,
it's a thesaurus word....
its grammatical construct is neither
verb (prayer) nor noun (allahu akbar) -
it's either antonym or synonym...
and by the time i've posted this,
i've drank my *****, ate my moussaka,
and my mexican napkin bread,
and said: hello tomorrow,
hello tomorrow: goodnight.
you have to learn one thing about the english,
they're polite, i give them that,
but they're also two-faced hydra-thisted liars...
i once took to liking them,
but after a while: i took to liking them:
by hating them;
they just became these annoying
gnats of purpose, something you'd
rather shake off, rather than keep.
and like all good western societies -
the history had to be upkept -
western europe mattered -
eastern europe was... "exotica" -
i love these palm tree jerkers off -
makes me feel right on time with
harrod's shelving oysters...
real bwitish -
cognac in the congo while
the belgians spontaneously sprang
into the vocals of: aussie aussie!
oi oi oi!
wankers;
i just keep imagining shoving a 100
toothpicks alongside 1000 toenail
clippings up their gobs to prove a
"point", although none would have been
reached.
the **** do you mean foul mouth?
last time i checked you had bigger problems,
via dyslexia... foul mouth that
first.
and to me shakespeare is only macbeth:
open locks,
whoever knocks -
open skies -
whoever cries: a lone wolf -
one in every one of seen stars -
whoever the day unlocks -
open skies,
and with star a breakfast
made, least one, least two,
least one count
worth two passing days
of feud...
open skies,
a sunrise and a set,
twinned culprit of the hour -
upon both the hubris
of unfashionable "concern" -
that they may settle
a least, while gambling
the most of said affair:
to dear malevolent
search of conquest -
reignite, the revisitation of
the endearing power-laden
desire for:
kept quest -
of arm in arm -
with both body,
as too with the shadow -
that medium of contrast.
so much so...
longinus podbipięta*
herbu zerwikaptur -
to have owned a sword that
cut off three heads of
teutonic knights, and later three
heads of ottoman turks...
to have made that righteous plea
for puritanical reasons -
that medieval rite of honouring
the chaste and the brave...
but in western europe,
no few if either if not any histories
meet within the frameworks of
the three days that history
encompasses:
yesterday, today & tomorrow...
for all i know:
slavic languages have clear syllables -
and even clearer letter to state -
if the prime be french babylonian
muddles - then english follows second -
these are the twin languages of
neo-babylon -
with their muddled syllable "chemistry" -
they're so unclear in what they "want"
their languages almost resemble
their: women...
slavic languages are known via
the mongol to have a chinese
ethos of clear: distinct: syllable clarity -
since they possess a clear unit
division of syllables into letters...
seriously... all it took was to ask me:
sh = sz
as ch = cz -
yzwz -
god is a word solely prescribed for
thesaurus rex -
god is anti-grammatically categorised
as mathematically vector -
god is not a dictionary word,
it's a thesaurus word....
its grammatical construct is neither
verb (prayer) nor noun (allahu akbar) -
it's either antonym or synonym...
and by the time i've posted this,
i've drank my *****, ate my moussaka,
and my mexican napkin bread,
and said: hello tomorrow,
hello tomorrow: goodnight.
