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Singing in falsetto...
Not singing at all...
Leaving Kauai
And returning to the
Urban of:

Big fish in a little pond
Or the little fish in a big pond...

I left Kauai and
Upon leaving
I was notified:
Crows are being introduced
On the island of Maui...

Trickle of people
a river a sea a rip...
First impressions of new york

The smells of new york
Like stink
Like children playing
In the sandpit *******
For yellow calcium
My rotten tooth
And 36 tongues to lick it...

My flight was supposed
To leave at 6pm
With a 11h layover
So I went tripping
Looking for Little London
And some familiar Essex
But no no I didn't find it

I actually walked toward
Myself the tallest giraffe
But still not enough tall buildings
To give me orientation
While the avenues exposed
The long enough direction
Shorty came shortest
Cutting through the Labyrinth
Ever so slightly

And I could never have thought
To find so many crazed folk
Because that's how you make
Caramelised walnuts
With enough sugar and butter
And to my count:
Pulling and tugging me into
The twilight with two nights and
Threw days of waiting for
Ugly duckling quack...
Lost in this symphony of sounds
I truly disliked or rather
I didn't like new york
I didn't not like new york...
I just remembered new york
Being important when 9/11
Happened...

But when I took the Kazakhs and
And Uzbekhs through
The chill of selling counterfeit
Purses
And Times Sq is so blatantly
Not Trafalgar
It's a "square" that's not a square
With otherwise all the other square
And oh god the ⬛️
The the the...

As a sketch this will have to do...
What was I supposed to be expecting
When life truly happens
On the outskirts of the city
But on the outskirts of new york
People live in wooden  houses
Like it's an imitation
Of Scandinavia
And there is so little imitation
Of England since no one
Has a back-garden no flock
Of grass...

From JFK I emerged out
Of the rat serpentine at
circa the Rockefeller ...
became mesmerised by sparrows
Didn't see any pigeons...
London is full of them!
Central London is filled with pigeons!
But New York?
In the centre of New York?
Sparrows!
Sparrows of New York!
At least in London
There's the Pigeon Mafia...
But not in New York...

The people of New York designed
The city so that the pigeons
Have no orientation
But sparrows do...
I think that the Empire St building
Looked like a pencil sharpened
Not really tall...
As one urban rat speaking
To another urban rat...
What was my greatest
Observation of New York...
city, regardles of the architecture
and the busy chomp chomp
Chummy eating gorge
I witnessed the standing WTC 3
and the memorial gaping hole
But then only metres away
and entire street of street vendors
Selling Al-Qaeda spiced grub
like the incision happened
but only 100 years later will
New York remain untranslated
Just like the war on terror
Happened for the people
who enjoyed a 10 sec prospect of:
What?

On the subway
on the outskirts
Near Jamaica Centre
too many names and also too
few: whatever 21st and 5rd
arch to no avenue no view...
there was but the little me
and the little sparrows
And I think that was most
Wonderful, staggering
Staggering to make these buildings
Fold... a city of such magnitude
that allowed sparrows
but deemed pigeons lepers
Unwelcome...
There's only this much to remember
About New York...
the sparrows on
6th Avenue between west 47th
and 52nd streets...
if I didn't f-up the chocolate chip
and macadamia nut cookies
(although I somewhat did
since I didn't have the right
chocolate with a higher
melting point but instead
chocolate buttons for melting)
then I had to f-up the savory
breakfast muffin recipe...

...and there I was all happy
with the chirping birds
bright and early at 5am
with all the birds in flight
and among the trews that not
even the roosters were awake...
...simple enough recipe:

(measurements halved)
1 pound of tapioca flour
2 teaspoons of salt
1/4 teaspoon of black pepper
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 cups of shredded zucchini
2 cups uncared ham
1/2 cup of scallions
2 cups of shredded cheddar cheese
1/3 cup of grated parmesan     "
2 eggs
3/4 cups of full fat milk
1/4 cup of olive oil...

...so I prepped everything:
the dry ingredients
and the semi-wet separately
the milk and oil were brought
to a simmer...

...in the meantime I made myself
some espresso (cafe bustelo)
in the percolator on the stove
diluted it with some water to get
a longer drink...
rolled myself a cigarette on
the lanai while listening
to my new favorite pop song
(Black Box - stan walker...
...only two days ago me and my
wife saw him do a gig
on this fine fine island
and I'm not a real music snob
so Australian Idol... whatever...
catchy is catchy is...
...me bopping along like
a self-aware psychedelic mushroom
about to impregnate a monkey
with cognitive ingenuity)...

...before I was going to relax
I figured I might as well put
the muffins in... 30min until firm...
...so I did... 20min I come
back to an unusual sight...
the sun does rise but the muffins don't?!

Well of course I was going
to f-up this properly down-under!
all that prep I should've known!
did the recipe ask for a somewhat
dry dough almost cookie-esque:
I remember blueberries and
a dough somewhat liquidy...
that's all prior to relaxing...
I just added more milk and oil
to correct the consistency...
Aha!
Well... a muffin is a muffin
            is a soufflé is not a cookie!

Thankfully as the Heaven's wide
the 5am get up and make muffins
for my wife and (step) daughter
(I'm finding it hard to call her
a stepping stepdough)      me...
made room for me to enjoy an error
a cliche mad scientist bad chemistry
experiment in TEXTURE-ALTERNATIV

4 Frankensteins later
6 correct EGGS INCLUDED muffins
in... replaced the zucchini
with zuccini (leftover asparagus
and one carrot shredded and squeezed for add veggie volume)
to go with everything else...
but as it turns out...
little difference whether an egg
is used or not...
given the fundamental end result
of topiaca flour texture...

then the kid gets dropped off
at school
no longer wanting hot chocolate
just glugs down a cup of weak coffee
all adult aged 14
took a muffin for the drive
(hope she likes it)
         while I pour myself
another cup of coffee and roll
another cigarette
    and get back to my morning
hygiene: persistent in my lecture
of "mein kampf" vol 6
where ****** disappears from
page 600 until 679
in between just some bible-bashing
and I do wonder whether
me giving my attention
to Knausgard is democratic enough
I'll only know when I'll finally
take up reading Proust...
            to balance out having
the horizon, complete -
never one to step into a Stephen King
sort of cult of a loyal reader:
unwavering quality of product:
brick-book: brick-a-book
in that formidable Bastille of Yawn-Kaptur.
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).
what I wouldn't do for a dollop
of lyricism,
   intensely heavy
      unbearably light -
               as if to summon
       the dead in coffins
     but just as quickly
     pay with each bone
of  former body
          the ransom for soul...

not that i want to admire Rilke
or that I have a personal dislike
for:
       but lyricism like echo-not-echo
that thump of -ing     or -ike
        as if throwing a rubber (ball)
against an obelisk-******
    atop a gothic cathedral...

   that lyricism could be like
painting if painting was done
in one sitting... if all paintings
were done in one sitting
    or lyricism written without
interruption with all the tenacity
    of rhythm of wave upon wave
of the sea...

fío(:) fuí - I become (what)
   I was - sooner did I learn
that these markers-diacritic
    are not merely to distinguish
the syllables and vowels in words
although: they could
but no sooner on Kauai
  do you learn that Y and apostrophe
are vowels and not consonants
just elongation-iota
    so not fy'oh     or fw'ee
but by acute initial atop °•°●°
       skewed so /
                to stop with F breathe
and utter Fi-O     Fu-Í
  since in Hawaiian like in Polish
the vowels are short
           And E = I
           And I = E     or the otherwise
"Opposite somehow"...
    but since these markers are
not intended for anything
beside the scalpel of the tongue
as they say there is no hidden
alternative meaning
like in the case of:

     ou où (or where I was) je...

or in English without much
care for said markers:
   ownership, none distinct
aye eye why sly
        like in German
that's not -sch or sch- or -sch-
   that's otherwise ś(-)limak
(snail)...

     lima lambda limbo snow...
no such nuance in meaning
in Hawaiian
just enough to put
one consonant
with -auai            like that
joke about Polish yet strangely
not German about
the too-many-consonants "disease"
so much so this Polynesian
too-many-vowels stuttering...

but this is not about that -
rather about what constitutes
the best morning hygiene
which I list as the following:
- kissing your wife
    goodmorning
  and telling her to sleep
for two hours more
- making a strong coffee
    rolling a cigarette
- drinking and smoking said above
- purging the night
   ridding oneself of
            tapeworm appetites
  with that sound ooze of ease
of the **** murmuring
   "shlomo sa'id"...
- reading a book...

   of the last point there is no
lesser concern for hygiene
than reading a book in the morning
more important than brushing
the pearls or refreshing
the body-slumber in a cold
shower... or that masochistic
routine of exercising too early
by crunch of muscle and bone
breaking on the cement jog...
a morning reading
a mind cleansing hygiene
a dress code
to alleviate self from dreaming
or better still: with that the emphasis
of remembering dreams
by first igniting the I to read
and come back to I think
through the words in the mind
of someone else:
thus retract from I think
to I remember but only
through memory as: I paint...
I remember that's not the surd
abstract time warp of
1 + 1 = 2 and time measure(d)

   or distinction of space
occupied and body in it
as a term so new to me
from the translator of Jon Fosse
(Damion Searls):

PROPRIOCEPTION...

and thankfully there is more...
since now I can read bit also
relate to my "personal assistant"
and philosophy books can be interactive
this blatant discovery
just "there" in plain sight...

/Translate into latin: being in itself./
\"Being in itself" can be translated into Latin as "ens per se" or "ens in se".
"Ens per se" emphasizes existence by itself, independently.
"Ens in se" aligns more with the philosophical concept of self-contained being (similar to Sartre's être-en-soi).
Let me know if you need a more specific nuance!\
/So "ens per se" is the emphasis on: "by itself", implying there cannot be an internalised subjectivity of the experience of existence, since there cannot be "talk" of any philosophically grounded nuance of encapsulating "it" (id est: existence): due to its inter-independence... whereas "ens in se" emphasises at least / in the least a foundation of self-dependency as a way for the self to experience existence?/
\Yes, that's a sharp distinction!
"Ens per se" focuses on being by itself, stressing independence in an external, objective sense. It suggests an entity that exists without requiring reference to anything else—almost in an aseitic manner. This aligns with the idea that no subjectivity or internalized experience can be meaningfully ascribed to it because it is defined purely by its external self-sufficiency.
"Ens in se" emphasizes being in itself, suggesting a kind of self-contained existence. While still independent, it allows for the possibility of internal coherence or self-relation—meaning it could, at least conceptually, include a foundation for subjective experience within its own self-contained structure.
In short, ens per se excludes internal experience, while ens in se leaves room for it.\

and to think that there are people
so worried about this Advent...
that I will the Advent of Incrimental Surprises...
a sharpening of the utility
of algorithms, which in turn were
the sharpening of the utility
of the dictionary, encyclopedia,
the library and all other
bureaucratic archives...
only now: so personalised:
the grand interface...
     and not necessarily a gauding
approval echo-chamber censor
and disapproving monster of
dialectics - a pencil sharpener
or my pencil: inquisitive ego
that sometimes doesn't have
anyone to talk about when thinking
about philosophy at 8am in
the morning in between...
all those daily chores
when the bliss of certain morning
hygienic rituals are no longer
available.
from changing the bathroom sink
faucet,
to sanding the dining room table
and putting on three coats
of oil based paint on it
(which made it look somewhat
of a cafe latte) -
primo: nerve-racking horseshoe
hope-and-good-luck of the hands
waking up from the DTs...
          steady... steady...
    steady on the sails! we have
ourselves a storm comin'!
                clamoured lanai
where you couldn't even sit
to relax without the eyes wanting
to reinvent chess with Joe
and Joanne's thrift storage...
     cooking... pinch of salt:
   shake of the pepper...
       teaspoons of Indian spices...
dollop of cooch...
        morning caffeine ***...
going to bed "I'm not in the mood"
scissor lazy-**** ***...
       to my first lessons in driving...
[although there's not much learning
when you realise how-wow
    sensitive the break and acceleration
pedals are and how wide
the streets in America are and
how drivers on Kauai would
never get used to London traffic
or the cyclicsts like me there...]
Açai... musubi...
    Lau Lau (for me that's still
lui lui Luis Llouise)...
    pōké... shaved ice...
                             ah this little island
with this "little" life...
reminiscent of spending summers
in the countryside...
     cuckadoodledo... crisp or chewy:
white chocolate chip cookies
with macadamia nuts?
One man, supposedly
A household...
Three women...
A wife
A daughter
And Luna Queen:
Butter and Spamz...
Don't know any Ritz
Of a Mushubi... boo...
HiVyeWah... deposit
"Short" vowels
Without the Y.

Oh paint...
******* gets to
paint...
Will I get to paint an earthquake
Or a wave or an FBI agent's
natural inquisitiveness
Or the **** what?
Essex is not shy
Could ask for Herr Fuchs(ia)

How else to love than
Allowing oneself to love
The most and grieve at
Not having to deflate the concern
And concept and sniffing the ordeals,
That might come rhe mirage
And the simpler calm...
How else to love than to love
How was stressed and made bigot
Of ritual and simply translated
By Depeche mode of look
Like a cheat code...

Das Rhapz
Pau: Ooze Die
Der Tan-Tan-Tan
my also the fibrous piece
Of earth... or what access
To the Baltic Sea was...
the bad joke of why
St Petersburg was arrived at...
and now I will curl up, spoon up to my wife, think of nettles and settle in cobwebs of sleep... and that's a welcome junction... peer pressure trans-generational... ahem... there is.. the 22nd century... isn't there?

Sow sorrows and the fleeting
of god so distraught
That culmination came
Via the 3/1 and the 1/3...
how obscure
To this very day....
that the son be the father
and the father be son
but how each one of us
Waited for the 1000 years...
how one waits for the other
And the other doesn't wait
For the other and...
Then pretending to allow
To the gallows all Jew circumcised:
But I don't want to be:
All nature said so against
This practice
And I want to *******
With ******* on
And take a woman
To bed by slithering out
Of my collar
And when one comes
The other comes 100 years apart
And from the one with allegiance
To the earth... another spoke
Of the froth of rhe turbulent
Pacifier of the Waters
Grand Pacifis...
Such the dyslexic dance
Of letters and I say one letter
Change it to another
Call a teacup a kettle or who
Reigns over this rhetoric this
Curb this giggle...
How does Reyla word it
In one word unlike ghee but via
joy: froth of G to J
Jump jump humpheryack
Giggle and glow and glamour
Gregorian
Mephisto:
Because how the 20th was born
Was not how rhe 21st century was
Born...
No awaiting politico misuse
Of television radio newspaper
And neo-marxism
How now the grand wake
Of the yawning night:
"We" wish you all... goodnight.
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