Feb 2019
. ****** mantis...
and playing
the heavy-tow
pixel
scrap of a PS1 console...
metal-gear solid...
how much is a **** fetish?
what, with songs
like bunkertor sieben...
me? i enjoy the fringes...
makes me aware of
possessing eyebrow,
before i counter the urban
argument of switching
to zeppelin ****-storming
the whole dictrum....
you can actually
pick out that i'm quiet
"desperate"
succumbing
to the tongue of "Odin",
i.e.: i've exhauasted the
English, the Latin,
i'm just teased by
the use of German....
i was up in arms with
the whole atomic man...
to a point...
where...
grammar was
infringed...
then i was like...
nein, niet. nie
plain and ******* simple
no!
the dead are not worth
any take on reasoning
to concern ourselves with
a conversation...
there's a recurrence
to succumb to...
a mind hidden beneath
the white tinge...
i seem to tend to
"forget"...
i know why the British
decided to leave the European
Union...
eastern-European
migrants...
i know the ****
chicken shop will open
as usual...
my ethnicity became a problem
when they were
the more capitalistic
offenders
of the pro workforce...
that's how capitalism works:
the more
you're benign efficiency...
the more...
well...
important as many
pakistani immigrants...
do i even look
like i ******* care?
i'm here,
i'm not going anywhere...
so now i'm your welcoming
hands of a
shamima begum
being invited back
into the circus?
this isn't a nation,
it's a circus...
but i do remember england,
circa 1997...
i was deemed illegal
back then...
i was sent home
packing...
able enough
to punch a brick wall
from what appears
the jews do, everyday,
meat-heading silent
the hakotel
with a stipend for
a moshpit
attempt
of analysis...
look at me "talk" my bit...
every time i land
back in Warsaw
i'm hit with a whiff
of nausea from
a the effects of a homogenous
society,
every time i land back
in England,
i also tend to find
a new Norman, normal...
of a society left to be
experienced via
a norm of...
first come,
fist served (no, there's no
R in that sentiment)...
post-colonialism...
i'm left, riddled with the Eire...
and the Picts...
but there's still
a part of me that says:
enough of the Anglican-Zunge...
let us return to the genesis,
and tame some deutsche...
i'm a realist in a *******
delusional society...
it's probably akin
to watching the partition
of the polish-lithuanian
commonwealth...
the crux-zenith
of the post-colonial nationhood...
back "home"...
i'm not at "home"...
the only people i talk to
are either old,
or retired...
back in England?
whatever "England" is
these days?
me, you, clueless...
i speak the tongue well enough
to comply to economic migration
of a chamaleon's misnomer
for an ability to adapt...
but? that's just it...
if i adapt,
and i am simultaneously
unable to provide
the prickly thorn assertion
of copper...
but... merely: simili cutis?
oh... FAIL...
i worship this tongue like
a deity...
because i found the french
tongue begging...
diacritical markers:
my idiosyncrasy....
the reason why i'm teasing
lessons in german?
of the liberal sons...
i came to find the strict
fathers...
and i know
that the fathers are the harangue
aloft levitating halos of
a permanence
with an attitude ascribed
to excessive pride...
such a sight to behold,
though...
a once framed opulance...
become so riddle-infested
by time,
and all manner
of the negation of ease
(dis)
having no better
origin, other than in...
counter to the semitic strict
obligation of keeping
the phonetic skeleton...
to the letter...
vowel (female) **
consonant (male) YX...
allowing its free citizens
the status of ronin...
and the "reinvention"
of the hieroglyphs of the emoji...
:)...
rule number one...
don't think that, just because,
you allowed people to attain
the status of literacy...
they would remain literate
to an orthodox, standard,
and would not deviate...
disinhibit themselves
into a the use of a degenerate
phonetic encoding "language",
akin to the emoji hieroglyph.
you were wrong,
i wasn't even born
to predate the current problem
with "said", words.
and playing
the heavy-tow
pixel
scrap of a PS1 console...
metal-gear solid...
how much is a **** fetish?
what, with songs
like bunkertor sieben...
me? i enjoy the fringes...
makes me aware of
possessing eyebrow,
before i counter the urban
argument of switching
to zeppelin ****-storming
the whole dictrum....
you can actually
pick out that i'm quiet
"desperate"
succumbing
to the tongue of "Odin",
i.e.: i've exhauasted the
English, the Latin,
i'm just teased by
the use of German....
i was up in arms with
the whole atomic man...
to a point...
where...
grammar was
infringed...
then i was like...
nein, niet. nie
plain and ******* simple
no!
the dead are not worth
any take on reasoning
to concern ourselves with
a conversation...
there's a recurrence
to succumb to...
a mind hidden beneath
the white tinge...
i seem to tend to
"forget"...
i know why the British
decided to leave the European
Union...
eastern-European
migrants...
i know the ****
chicken shop will open
as usual...
my ethnicity became a problem
when they were
the more capitalistic
offenders
of the pro workforce...
that's how capitalism works:
the more
you're benign efficiency...
the more...
well...
important as many
pakistani immigrants...
do i even look
like i ******* care?
i'm here,
i'm not going anywhere...
so now i'm your welcoming
hands of a
shamima begum
being invited back
into the circus?
this isn't a nation,
it's a circus...
but i do remember england,
circa 1997...
i was deemed illegal
back then...
i was sent home
packing...
able enough
to punch a brick wall
from what appears
the jews do, everyday,
meat-heading silent
the hakotel
with a stipend for
a moshpit
attempt
of analysis...
look at me "talk" my bit...
every time i land
back in Warsaw
i'm hit with a whiff
of nausea from
a the effects of a homogenous
society,
every time i land back
in England,
i also tend to find
a new Norman, normal...
of a society left to be
experienced via
a norm of...
first come,
fist served (no, there's no
R in that sentiment)...
post-colonialism...
i'm left, riddled with the Eire...
and the Picts...
but there's still
a part of me that says:
enough of the Anglican-Zunge...
let us return to the genesis,
and tame some deutsche...
i'm a realist in a *******
delusional society...
it's probably akin
to watching the partition
of the polish-lithuanian
commonwealth...
the crux-zenith
of the post-colonial nationhood...
back "home"...
i'm not at "home"...
the only people i talk to
are either old,
or retired...
back in England?
whatever "England" is
these days?
me, you, clueless...
i speak the tongue well enough
to comply to economic migration
of a chamaleon's misnomer
for an ability to adapt...
but? that's just it...
if i adapt,
and i am simultaneously
unable to provide
the prickly thorn assertion
of copper...
but... merely: simili cutis?
oh... FAIL...
i worship this tongue like
a deity...
because i found the french
tongue begging...
diacritical markers:
my idiosyncrasy....
the reason why i'm teasing
lessons in german?
of the liberal sons...
i came to find the strict
fathers...
and i know
that the fathers are the harangue
aloft levitating halos of
a permanence
with an attitude ascribed
to excessive pride...
such a sight to behold,
though...
a once framed opulance...
become so riddle-infested
by time,
and all manner
of the negation of ease
(dis)
having no better
origin, other than in...
counter to the semitic strict
obligation of keeping
the phonetic skeleton...
to the letter...
vowel (female) **
consonant (male) YX...
allowing its free citizens
the status of ronin...
and the "reinvention"
of the hieroglyphs of the emoji...
:)...
rule number one...
don't think that, just because,
you allowed people to attain
the status of literacy...
they would remain literate
to an orthodox, standard,
and would not deviate...
disinhibit themselves
into a the use of a degenerate
phonetic encoding "language",
akin to the emoji hieroglyph.
you were wrong,
i wasn't even born
to predate the current problem
with "said", words.
