LUFA!
  LUFA!

lufa PANIE
ISTNIEJE!

LUFA PANIE!

i TO BEST
SORT!

post-democratic
AMBITIONS
MENSCH: GUTSEIN
not: awry:
  
poetry: doing and nothing:
NUT und NICHTS...

what to be: with belief:
when concerned with
what is: to be done: what is there
to do:

tip toe: tight: rope: hangman: or just
the clarifying Osman bin Jasmine
and tender little girl
just so folklore of the existence of
cattle...
and the stench these animal
ingested not petted: bring.

one does: the animated part
without being:
but by simply doing:
a task an impromptu:

PO WSZYSDKIM:
everyone-who?
after everyone-who?

KTO: KIM... debatable...

a simple: who are you...
versus:
who are you: as?!

     g gg         g g        game of cards
i lost the plot:
not trying to regain it...
**** happens and so the world:
happens:
der welt ist:
          sein ist: neit: ist...

what is in my head: nothing
what is in my heart: nothing probably: too...
should i clamor my head with
dreams the last sequence
was me disbelieving: so David Icke
plays guitar to children
in a small room a deconstructed
Wembley stadium
and i'm panicking needing medical
assistance for spotting a mother
grandmother and sister
with a little boy
   who bought one ticket a *******
***** Wonka golden ticket
and then some other security guard
is going to let all five in
on that one ticket?
seriously?
i need a medical time-out?
why am i even dreaming about where
i work?
so later after David Icke
did his set
we all went outside
and in the audience: only boys...
no girls...
and then we were by a shoreline
watching Scandinavian mountains
grumble grunt and gamble
and turn to sand
but really slowly:
and the boys came out of the David Icke
concert
and i was kneeling
looking at Kandinsky's pink and fading
blue in the ice
a ridge of ice crumbling
and then the boys in the audience
sat on our bent knees and upper thighs
and fell asleep in our arms...
i so rarely dream that
sort of ****** up my head for the day
i suggested: sonic hangover from
the otherwise self-plagiarizing AC/DC...
because all the songs sound the same:
perhaps that's the magic after all:
i just thought thought about writing the same
poem twice but rearranging the words
the girls go to Greece on holiday
while the state gave them free housing
while the boys are all losers
still living with their parents:
losers, yeah: right...
maybe that's why i'm so easy on racial slurs
given that i work with
African black boys
old black boys R US as slaves
and Slavs...
and Surd and Surfs of beauty
my Somali / Ethopiopia:
beauty was sexually abused on shift
became pressed with ****
to ***
and i lent him my ear guards
we greet like immigrants
because we: well: i finally realised
that the English will not make or want me
to be English with them:
the Australians could
and the Americans could
but not the Canadians sorry but no:
today i was listening to the rare
occasion of mother breaking bread
and listening to the news
and the coverage of Australian immigration
policies:
even in want of police officers
if say a 30 year old career:
but in tow a special person, special needs
DOWN UP-UNDER...
well sure: but the Axis of Evil that
includes Russia, China, Turkey:
also includes Australia...
oddly enough...

i actually applied for a visa to go and live
in Australia:
the haven for whites and Asians
without the other Asians (monotheists)
and sorry: Africa:
Africa is leeching Europe
even though there were Kingdoms of
Africa: say: Ghanaians stealing
Nigerians and selling them to the Portable Geese:
like you think i don't
know all the Asians hate the Chinese
before that they hated the Japanese
but now the Japanese are just the English
of the Orient in their: WEIRD'OH HAIRDOS...

i can get with a lot of things
because i can now clock in
on working with two Muslim male virgins:
possible terrorists...
you know how western explanations go:
England is part of Scandinavia
and it still feels like competing
with French audacity...
weird...
i work with ******* and Muzzies
and don't know how these people can be
so racist to each others' skin tones of tome...
but **** me:
the **** i hear when it comes to racial slang
and i'm actually a white boy respected
because i supported Germany in the Euros
or some ****...
i can't believe the stigmata of the Professor
this Russophobia is eating me
more logical: apparently: than the clearly
underestimated virus of Islam most
Ignoble in the hands of the Pakistani practice
(of said, religion):

Adam: Zackkakis: let's call him that:
beating my own money that turned into
a donkey:
why am i hearing that people are so glad
to work with me?
i hear compliments: i'm all pink with allure:
tell me? why is that so tell me
of the petty evils of great and petty men...
and about the innocence of women
and of women: in general...

i was yet to be accused of ****
and i imagine that
if it was the first woman i was intimate
with:
if the first one accused me of ****
by "association":
toward the glamour of consent via
oral ***...
and i said: 2nd base! 2nd base!
that's not virginity lost
that's just bilingualism:

     maybe he didn't return the favor:
he too could be to blame
by not returning the oral favor
of playing the game of bilingualism
of sorts: oysters:
watermelons...
**** me the list is endless...

but they still want to work with me:
less so:
no: i couldn't possibly drink with anyone
but myself:
or smoke... marijuana:
i tried that once
with my Nigerian neighbor on the roof
of my kitchen: and his kitchen...

maybe because i was drinking:
he was sober:
but we smoked a joint:
the ****** started HYPERVENTILATING...
i almost quested to Q to 'uestion:
you breathing in helium:
or about to?
seriously: you hyperventilating is sort
of putting me off
sharing a joint with you:
don't worry: i micro-dosed this one
so you won't feel a numbing high
just a conversational prompt
and a cognitive impromptu...

     no? none of that? still HYPERVENTILATING...
yes... me too:
i think about orbits: geometry:
triangles and planets...

but if i weren't planning a decade away
in Hawaii i would be
serious about my Australian status:
i was yet to hear the abode
of the neo-Nazis in Australia:
like somehow: no one else does it:
but everyone else does it:
special intelligence
of the special people getting educated
forgetting their biology:

i know that i drank and smoked
enough to slow down any biological
replica of moi:
i did enough damage to my body
to know my self: even in the reflexive sense: myself
rather than the reflective sense of: my: self...
so i know that i'd best cater to a woman
being a man having
reached the Zenith of Menopause...
because it's not a Nadir: if you like ***...

i can celebrate it! what?! menopause!
when woman becomes: finally! a man!
transgender politics aside:
that's when trans-gender-ism happens most
clearly:
like when the people of Taiwan became
Polynesians...
a man without menopause: mono-pause:
clairvoyant and some pressure
for the demands of Opera: let's make it a night
to reconsider:
this guy just stormed out from
a show disgruntled by the production quality:
sober: does it matter:
he complained that Mozart was sung in English
and not DEUTSCHE...

#****-erotica.... huh?

       yet to mind drinking if anything:
as much...
oh these losers who regret bringing
the bad news
of family: all gone: to call them cousins
would be a heresy...

how the Bangladeshis abhor the Indians
because:
not reunited with your Pakistani brood-ings?
i worked with the lot of them
the most difficult were the Greenwich bellybutton
English blues of:
self-made authority: but not in Australia:

but a silence of a bed
and for my head filled with lead
to lie in and sink
that would be
a most serene dream: seconds
of a reality extending into hours of dreaming:
to call it a name
but to also invoke a verb ending
of it DOING from simply being:
well! Hiedeggar my stomach and Damocles!

a demonic silence and calm preserves this place
i call home:
today i was recovering from working
at the AC/DC gig at Wembley: henchman man:
wager man... wagey...
such pivotal hierarchies in the high viz
community outside of the construction industry:
human chess
it would seem: is the end result
of this working dynamic...

                   i'd call it my dream period but it's
more or less my nostalgic impromptu
retrospection thinking of myself writing in my mid-20s
but i really can't see:
in the classical period music was innovative:
it inspired philosophers such as Nietzsche
but these days i can't say: much about music...
it became an art form relegated to the piles
of dung of Beelzebub's ****** archiving of important
matters:
a total messy ******* he is...

            coughed up whiskey into my nose
which was a sobering experience
like a Pakistani girl
telling out in full claustrophobic no personal
space antic of taking a lift
imploring me to stand in front of her
imploring me to smell my skin and my ***
and my love to block out
someone else's bad personal hygiene...
and then i said: well: like nicotine
like caffeine: a whiff of ammonia: a chemical salt
or acid
          someone's poor personal hygiene can
become a stimulant: especially if you add to that
the torrential rain:

but my dry period?
i was young and not boring enough:
so i'd pick up a book and take out a snippet
and work with that:
i suppose i could rehash that youthful distress
by picking up
Ulysses - i don't remember any of it:






                                                      / /

nothing: nothing comes to mind...
         so when music used to be innovative in the infancy
now hardly irrelevant
but AC/DC are not an innovative band
if say: Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin were...
or god forbid someone take up the Q of Pink "barber" Floyd
because that's not Nirvana relevant?

i guess music of the 20th century
might require someone listening to classical and reflecting:

weird antics for the closure of a day
and it's impeding reopening after a nap
circa 8pm through to 12am
in the day made perfect timing to
send off a Taylor Swift t-shirt:
medium... almost a large:
regardless: she wanted to have it scented with me
so i rubbed the early stink from lying
in bed first...
then walked around in it...
then took a shower:
didn't use deodorant (but squeezed some in
when i finished packing the package
to get the plastic smell out...
the air around the item)
i rubbed myself cleaner than mirror versus
the glass
in i guess: if i can remember:
was a honeycomb and macadamia nuts
soap...
          then i washed my hair with Argan oil
infusion...
and beard too: ah: maybe the shampoo was
the macadamia nuts infusion
and the soap was just the honeycomb infusion...

but no deodorant on the body:
just into the back...

friendship bands
and me playing with my mother's makeup drawer
while writing her a letter
some little nothing something perhaps sweet
and to think i'm suited to a Christian girl
and i'm supposedly this Catholic
which is supposedly a novelty in America
like J.F.K was a novel Catholic
in the land of Protests and hyper-inflated individualism
that's so fake it beggars-belief...

Soup, joint and sweet. Never know whose
thoughts you're chewing. Then who'd wash up
all the plates and forks? Might be all feeding on
tabloids that time. Teeth getting worse and worse.

J. J. Ulysses page 217 reprinted Penguin classic 2000

as i said: innovative: music once was
no longer so and
it's a shame that those who wrote music are
more alive than some people
who are alive and haven't been gifted with
much: but as in that Dead Can Dance song
about great men:
Solomon, Caesar, Socrates... and there is a third:
how fortunate the man with none...
how fortunate that no one should remember

but even then what's that to life: expected...
if anything: a kind surprise to an otherwise unwarranted
***** of the hope...
some higher demand the everyday expectation
to the materialistic grit (spoken like a true
teenager)...
but just so: my riches are in books and in music
records:
at least one painting of my own:
a sitter in Grey
by Candlelight...
a sword from the forest i called my Cossack
SHASHKA...
              
           just a breaking of a night within night
to tip over the scales of time from day x
to day y
                      by nocturnal musings:
    having signed the Last Will of my parents
i am now the inheritor de facto
of this house and garden:
it's almost comical when
Joe stood before me at cordon 6
wearing a Quadrant Supervisor bib and
almost gesticulating at:
well: why haven't you been promoted?
well: who gives a ****
it's a wash-a-hand-hand-washing-hand
not nepotism but quasi-nepotism
of the family breakdown and making new friends
in the playground
so children are growing up my lord
but the elementary
and the pedagogy remains the same:
perhaps if with children you can pretend
to be an adult with responsibilities
when when in psychiatry you pretend to be a god
because that's not me saying:
Prometheus my Guide:
but at least you have to pretend to be a god
since god is so abstract
and that's what people required other people to
become: in just the verb and noun orientation
of this delicate ballet...
not by any stretch of imagining grandiosity
not in any way profound
there's the nearing of the bad grammar god
and his fetish is pronouns
and being a Dyslexic his favorite demonic ****
is at the pulpit of a pseudo-Protestant
i.e. Protestantism against itself:
dying off without a Catholic antagonist since that
path deviated and found root
in the life now enjoyed by the Spanish, French,
Italians, Pollacks...

                         i could mention the Irish but is there
a point of mentioning the Irish as Catholics
and not simply as the Irish:
the sublime masochists... which the Pollacks can't be
but what's horrible about us is
a Catholic Work Ethos that we don't share
with anyone: beside the Irish: in that span of rubric:

Spanish
French
Italians
Porto-Geese (easier, i'm not going to spell it correctly)...

ah... jeez: what a Chopin's nocturnes sort of
night:
it's blessedly raining outside and it feels like
the proper July:
did i forget to mention that there's a lesson
in geography to be had, right about now?

it bothered me: the English mentality
concerning Eastern Europe:
Poland is Central Europe with Germany
you ******* PLEB...
deafness and more deafness: no intellectual music
no conversation:
just innocent bystanders: collateral ditto virus...
geography bothered me in the lexicon:
is that common speech of man? hmm:
gonna get myself a Jane Austen tattoo...
not on my skin: but on the silk
bothered by the wind
itching inside my mind like no other caged ego
to thought or being:
just ego-nothing
beside what is already available
with i-think and i'm-not: i-am...

                           familialism: something
borrowed from Anti-Oedipus: i don't understand
the French intellect so well:
please can i gravitate towards German High Intellect
with some dabbing in Scandinavian:
everyday-ism?

   the French have a freakish morbid intellect
bent on destruction and painting with language:
i don't want to paint when i write...
i want to abstract: find solutions:
complications:
impasses...
              facts: i don't want to find bad grammar
and a chemistry lab
of boorish wordings overtly hyphenated into
compounds like di-hydroxy-carbonate blah blah...

who is the real psychotic?
i have no knowledge of a Spanish intellect...
Italian maybe with Machiavelli but
that's irrelevant:
Giuseppe Belli:     (o.k. **** me, shoot me
my youth was greatly invoked to age beyond
my peers because of Dante: *******
and yeah yeah ******* twice
because i had Horace and Ovid in my life)

inzomma, da la predica de jjeri,
ggira che tt'ariggira, in concrusione
venissimo a ccapi cche sso mmisteri...

      just look how Latin devolved...
to sign language and spitting
and eyes darting and foundations
like Rome and the Italians is an observational
view point of a mountain range
some weirdly anthropological
no people discovered or conquered
so aboriginal blah
i mean: just looking at the language
that's Italian: that used to be Latin:
it's a bit like looking at the Polynesians
originally from Taiwan:
perhaps they didn't gain height
rowing all that time no sight of horses
but they bulked up
and i can see something Oriental about
them with the exception of their tailoring
to a darker color of skin: complexion...

bad Latin to come:

in brevi, et ex sermon nos accepit
summa summarum,
                          idiom: say how it is... to:
            obtusis-lingua-acuere:
blunt tongue sharpening...
               videtur: mysterium est mysterium...

perhaps that's the non-authoritative
variation on Latin:
certainly not Italian: or what happened
when Germanic blood of the Lombard
achieved the fold to the Razor and Papacy:
the Pope a Drowning Man...

that lesson in geography:
well... whenever listening to a meteorological
dial-up
with a person in the luminary of a quasi-fire
that's the t.v. screen:
believe me in 100 years what will
the t.v. beside a fireplace
a radio and then what will internet access be

i'm listening to my favorite nocturne:
i've currently digested:
47 minutes:

nocturne in B♭minor op 9 no 1
     "         "   " minor op 9 no 2
and the list goes on and on
but i'm too lazy to type each song out...
but it would look pretty:
i gather there's that aesthetic concern
and if i wanted to spend years
on art
i'd become a grave sculptor...
not some celebrated Rodin bound
to the museum:
CENTAUR and the Urmahlullu...

in some there's this tease toward anticipating
Wagner's Das Reihngold: the entry
of the gods into Valhalla:

         like we all know the play on Les Mars

♯C
#****

       ah! subliminal! HELMHOLTZ! HELMHOLTZ!
just like
Les Marseillas... apparently a right wing
revival, non?
but instead a Fringe Red seeking majority?
i did say: Serenity Red:
not simply - but the left was becoming
constipated communicative-ly: all lively...

number: first: 1812:
ah yes: Tchaikovsky and the Polish Plumbers
Orchestra...
some Dostojnie: Igrzyska:
  
               geography!
England is part of Scandinavia!
England: Scotland:
Ireland:
this is not Western Europe!
this is Scandinavian Territory!
if Poland is Eastern Europe:
collectively...
blah Ukraine blah Czechia
blah Lithuania and not Russia
blah Romania
and blah some more maybe even Greek
and Turkish:
forget Serbia Croat

but England is Scandinavia:
it's not WESTERN EUROPE:
what is western Europe but an Atlantis
figment of the imagination
if Germany is Central Europe
and Poland too
have to look at the planet from sunrise
have to rotate the planet into
vertigo mode horizontal....
not some meteorological Chinese script
the westerners read weather
at X Greenwich
and Y equator: Kenya:
Z? the winds and casual tornadoes?

  England is Scandinavia
in temperament and feels:
                   it's not Western Europe:
there never was: beside
as the bad apple export to America...
Scandi to the north
while the also northern bunch
finding recliners and cheaper weather:
the Goths via the Spaniards
and the Berbers
toward Argentina...

               then again to a waltz:
still a nocturne waltz...

                       but that piece with
the reverbretating insinuation of the piano
working as a bass guitar...
not the waltz no 7 in c (sharp) minor
op 64,2

                absolved from the hierarchy of cultures:
that Germany transliterated
away from a superiority complex
of ethnocentrism of white via white versus:
such heightened exploration dynamic:
peace to mind: a piece of:
the langui: a **** in boots and a freakish:
i don't event want to remember
dreams...

         if no longer ethnocentric then cocktails
in Berlin with a hyper-inflation
of race mixing like
it couldn't be a sand story:
this new Dune
not a desert
but a "jungle" of Concrete:
this Nedu:
        planet of sand without wind
this concrete grey
this fudge packing:
this also glass and mirror and mannequin...
this planet we live on
i give a name:

           Nedu.
        formerly called Earth:
              Nē̆dû has spoken and spoke at its
crux of nadir: thus.

O what a welcome happy hangover:
could be drawn, hung and quartered
and i believe anything as durable as this
hangover could make
this world a pretty place and petty too:
like a whisper in my head:
well i clearly couldn't give a **** even
if: but i'm simultaneously constipated
and wondering:
how will i get my scent into this Taylor
Swift t-shirt before sending it
to Edie on Kauai -

             how sudden to reflect-reflexively
the mirage of ***
and wants and needs of so many people:
bumping between cliches and
sometimes: in language: nothing spectacular
happens and i can't be
just another with a Shakespearean hard-on /
crutch...
        to have to cite Homer too would
be: a hollow cause for envy...

hollow: caustic...

took to two cups of coffee and almost
four with a cigarette head-spin:
literally: my eyes popped out of my head
while the guillotine smiled
and my head rolled into lust and clouds...
headache without a head
too little i thought
with just enough: i am...

         names popping up with the vengence
of weeds...
Roger McGough:
           i too was influenced by the Beatniks
for a while: but then i grew out and up
toward heavier influences...
         some stand alone sod ***:
should i show symptoms of dementia
(as this is my genetic curse
borrowing from my maternal side)...
i'll be the one ingesting magic mushrooms
to spike my nervous system with
flare acid hyper-color...
       until then: sobering up antics in everything
non-rhythmic...

Ian Gillan and dog biscuits
only yesterday AC/DC
and i looked like a smart *** using my phone
to write a message to a hyper unruly
teenager grown *** man
dancing on the stairs:

so as part of a response team you get to
coordinate 4 henchmen:
although i wasn't given 4 henchmen...
i was the henchman and i had
four shy, sly, wouldn't even call them foxes:
i was the fox and the wolf
laughing at *****...
i had a ******* Muslim ****** to work
with: for ****'s sake...
we were reminded that it was
the anniversary of the 7/7 bombings
where my then girlfriend:
just missed the bus that was torn open
and i thought to myself:
do Jihadis celebrate Christmas?
just saying: wouldn't they want a new
anniversary for us to worry
about instead of celebrating the same date
years later?
polygamy and these young Muslims boys
still virgins
perhaps so desperate perhaps not
but like i told both of them:
           you'll still end up with one good
quality woman
and the rest will be quantifiable jargon
of your own whims and competitive
streaks but
there won't be any real love and fashion
or pickled fingers in all that
brine and liquor of **** juices and Oms
of harmony in the O aghast chasms of More...

come to think of it:
you wouldn't discover anything about
women even if a woman
told you: in the capacity of being educated
as a psychotherapist...
you'd be better off reading
Madame Bovary by Flaubert...
men learn nothing about women
when women educate men about women:
men learn everything about women
from other men... period...

             ditto ditto ditto...

another article in the culture magazine
i picked up was
all about....
    now that movie: the Zone of Interest
truly captivated me:
more than the soppy story of Schindler's
List:
because i had to re-watch that latter movie
realizing:
oh... so the whole "action" sequence:
that didn't happen in Auschwitz: did it?

most were Polish Jews
regardless i think whether they were Jews...
what's stressed is their Jewishness:
                  dunno: bit of a ***** topic if you
care to concern yourself
with what my grandfather used to say
the Jews used to say in Poland
to the natives:

our tenements, your streets...

       proudly: openly...

              OUR TENEMENTS, YOUR STREETS...

nasze kamienice: wasze ulice...

   basically you should be happy to be homeless
while we strip you to the bare knuckle
of rent!

             so yeah, i have mixed emotions
with regards to: "x"... kiss kiss: meu meu... meow...
hasty: hatching a plan...

herrbittebonbon!            from memory:
but i best punctuate it
to structure the affair of being a child and running
up to SS-mensch and asking for
sweets:   herr! bitte bonbon!
and getting those sweets and then
running back to the house
with my hands glued together and having
my mother wash the sweets off my hands:

knowing my luck: apart form my father,
no one in my family had any luck with women...
my grandfather's mother was a flirt
conceived him out of wedlock
and had 5 other: some *******...
then my father's mother abandoned him
blah blah...
            
  oh jeez: women... what a headache...
i don't even know if the Islamic approach is any
better:
the cruelty of women and the reality
of nature and you're just a ***** donor
lucky if you're that angler that Dutch perverter
of DNA who donated over 1000 cases
and imagine in a world so small that
the two people collide and turn out
being cousins...
                  
                             then comes all the blatant
DNA revisionism and how the Chinese
just added about a foot to their height
but apparently really tall Chinese are somehow
normal somewhere over there
but at this moment i'm hardly going to protest
freaks us all: freakazoids...

            but just outright shock! aghast! no no...
or simply outright evil:
less the people and more the ideology
because to think that people couldn't
change their mind but merely obliterated
themselves as consorts of the obligated
shakes and stirs me... consorts of the obliging:
obliterated like that:
brain virus nervous system dead...

             but what's the difference between
**** ideology, communism, Christianity or Islam:
from man unto man unto:
          crazy radical and nothingness to reboot...
and then years later:
some procrastination with a rebellious streak of:
well: at least we know that Christianity
waged a war against words for the longest
known time:

Christianity is a religion of images:
it's not a religion of words...
hence why certain words have become images:
Trademarking...
                              why Islam emerged with
its strict ordeals to curb the use of images:
like for like...
        if you're going to get a tornado:
might as well think a butterfly started it...

what a difference a shift can make:
i come in and out of positions:
sometimes i'm outside on the bag cordons
my favorite spot is
Charlie Cordon 6 for the concerts
last Wednesday i was just there
having a fabulous time

but today my sign in was 3 hours later
i came 20 minutes early
upon exiting Wembley Park Station
a flash of lightning my god's smile
my father's and my son's and daughter's
and i was sort of weirded out
by a missed call from mother
and Lyndon: my agency manager
for the shift...
which came later much later
but i put my phone of aeroplane mode
so only switched back reception
on the train:

jeez! misread the Elizabeth timetable
after 23:48 there is no Shenfield
to Paddington (no bear either,
Lizzie with the marmalade toast: untoasted)
that smile of lightning
and a THUNDERCLAP like the gurgling
of a goat killed proper Halal bruv...
or the hunger in the stomach
of a monster and a child...

i whispered in my mind: one name: though...
Thor:
the mood didn't suit the almighty
Arab and later Bangladeshi or Hebrew
later St. Paul and the German Protestant...

the difference between:
working in a team...
four Englishmen one ******...
the Pollack being their supervisor:
playing all James Bond
my ext number at university
dorms was 007:
            but it felt very edgy:
i was white (still am)
and i was supervising four Englishmen:
as a Pollack that must sound
weird coming to someone like
Rishi Sunak the vegetarian prime minister
it must be weird
sounds almost unnatural
but that was one shift prior: i got it:
break-up stab in the back
going all crazy with the pheromones:
and silent moans
and kiddy candy of the eyes
on the borderline with 17
no sweet 16 no let's not go that far
but imagine my fright:
wolf pack:
who?
wolf pack wolf pack...
one ginger one german in disguise
bartablondine with a crop full of hair
and enough beard
because there was a migration of hair
not from the head
but from the beard
toward the Chest of a Hairy Pirate
the stomach no six max Greek sculptures
hairy like a bear's...

fair enough so many lovely ladies
but i sometimes smoke too much
and not microdose like after today
and i get all transparently transcendental
and sometimes paranoid
but like today i micro-dose
and drink enough to keep me away
and i told myself:
you began tripping again
when you smoked half a proper joint
and drank whiskey without Pepsi:
those carbonated drinks:
no sugar...
no good: especially when mixed with alcohol
best to keep alcohol pure
and steering away from beer and wine
but if wine
then white wine and that's on special occassion
mixing it with marijuana
but best mixing a little whiskey: pure:
best Welsh...        PENDERYN...

     Welsh is the whiskey for me:
not Irish or Scotch:
discounted by over £10 quid at Asda...
from well over £30
to £23... 70cl...
    
             i just feel sorry for myself for not cramming
the entire day in but i can't
be James Joyce and account for the constiption
of but one day
and no one really manages to think so much
in one day
i certainly don't: so i look pocket and of pinpoint
days
and accounts of the hours of that day:
for a day i account for hours
and their smaller minions
when it comes to years
i account for days:
and their larger minions of weeks and months...

i was smarter today
because i was working with a young Bangladeshi
******: openly ******:
a Nigerian: aristocracy: by the sound of it:
and face:
the black girls of former slave owners
must have called
and said their mixed race counterparts
were nothing but **** boys...
and white girls' slaves...

a perfect journey home:
finalized by catching the 00:35 last 103
to Chase Cross home...
and i finished shift at 11pm and coming
down from level 5 at Wembley
is just as hard as exiting from Turnstile G
where staff sign in and sign out
and there were stories
i heard about someone walking in with proper
planning and accreditation
**** like that
just plain old bonkers:

               and Zain the introvert:
i didn't know whether he was the Bangladeshi's
rage whether Indian or not
so i allowed the whole:
and i thought only white people were
racist but
this is racism like Germans were ethnocentric
but not racist:
like the "racism" of the Germans and the Russians
who tried to dictate to the Pollacks
ethnocentrism: a white within white...
but look at me having to be
driven by an English ethnocentrism
that's placed face to face with competing
with the world
having invited the world over after having
traveled the god's blue and settled for
smash my garden up my garden my *******
garden
i love how only one empire imploded
but then exploded back into the fore
of the commonwealth:
and that's not Poland-Lithuania had:
didn't go ahead to charge an Empire
but instead settled on the Commonwealth:
and maybe there's a 3rd stage
while all the immigration fiasco settles
and England, Scotland, Wales: maybe:
certainly Ireland
settle for the Commonwealth of themselves
and from the radio on the news
i heard the vast and drastic and incoherent
term:
DEVOLVED NATIONS...
devolved...
i actually need to look that word up...

           no! no devolved governments!
equal representation of the tongues
or rather the reignited of the Scotch Gaelic!
pretty come please come
speak to me:
like that one black girl i thought was
oh so pretty with St Matthew going all the way
to Ethiopia looking for love...
not rubbing:
but comfortably touching my belly
closing my eyes closing hers
and i tingled at the thought:
but there's a loved woman in your life
and you love her so:
and i want to find that sort of love for me
and i want to find that same sort of love
for me...

to think: this day has not yet been
as perfectly executed to memory imprinted
with self-evident lettering to
my standard of digestion of dream:
before a digestion happens:
there must be a conjuring... of them...
i never understood people who have
recurrent dreams:
unlucky maybe sunshine maybe moon-too:

I'M ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL
I'M ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL
I'M ON THE HIGHWAY TO HELL...

i was there: pretending to be a bowl steward
like my origins in this industry:
i just remember that i managed
to sneak in one SIA without licensing
and when the Quality Assurance Officer
came up to me and
i addressed her as a Quality Assurance... blah
blah:
there was quick-chess going on
in the realm of ants and hierarchy
and i did mention
to my fox hunt: wolf pack vs. fox hunt...
because foxes don't hunt
so a fox hunt is... 5 foxes...
    being hunted... coming together:
to figure out an escape plan...

   adoptive Darwinism: fox hunting is a *****
sport...
i just delved into the FOX HUNT
vs. the WOLF PACK

   5 foxes: being hunted: started to huddle:
figure out us: we have glamour: and ice...
entice:
what we'll do we'll speak smoothly
smoothing and smiling...

           i'll do the talking: you do the muscle
pretend in between:
jeez one text i didn't want this one guy
to have a bad experience of gigging
i ended up taking the most vulnerable
down the elevator through to the side of
turnstile G...

          i feel like a rock star
                 i feel like a rock star...
i feel like a rock star:
because i have the world and its troubles
like the dirt from unwashed hands
and overgrown fingernails
and a smooch in my head from: her-hier...

but as a team we remained tight
no other response team from level 5 managed
to walk out through any turnstile
we were the owners
i felt English too and i didn't give a ****
i swear turnstile A was solid
without a queue
gone in 10 minutes
and the girls were flirted with
that i couldn't with a Bangladeshi or a Nigerian
but this was ACDC
and this was more politics
than teenage crush dream...

       candy crush saga of lady labyrinth
of Jane Austen:
that... exfoliation of language of class:
in Bridgeton and elsewhere
oh baby but
i'm somewhere in between
that class of tongue
and thesaurus and peacocking
and just talking ***** and reality
of the Cart and Horses in STR (greater anglia
acronym, station name).

no broken thread:
just telegram telepathic:
short:

don't keep looking
for the bogus
of self-belief:
the motto: of:
just believe in yourself
*******:

such a timid death
of god
no god no self
read about the Devil:
only two philosophers
danced with
him:

Spinoza and Kant:
and i adore these two men
like Hamlet
or is that Vader: Darth:
or is that: no:
no Macbeth...

find your: self-worth!
man!
find your: self-worth!

  forget about self-belief!
forget about self-belief!
don't believe in yourself:
no cogito ergo sum phantom
rolling inside your brain
thinking yourself
more than rock
sea god and mountain:

but reflect upon the face of you
in Poseidon:
the ancients might have believed
Titans ruled
like Autocrats
and...

              Quality: of one
rather than one: as a quantity of indefiniteness
pleasure: no pleasure
she became involved in my life
yet my life is still somehow public
but as i microdosaged
and was asked sober to exchange
money

and spent the weekend with father
and you talked about moving
Martin nearer to the sea
to Danzig by the Sea not Clackton
or Clacton:

                     i'm going to an AcDc
gig while she was having spaghetti
monsters of conversations
by a bonfire
a date night
longing out I know
Reyla wanted us to have a date night:
i need to pay my cats for
baby-sitting: i really do...

confusion creates enlightenment:
funny how:
i can't see a traffic cordon
in the fog
enlightened by concusion
and hitting a tonsure of blood on my head:
perhaps i need
to get out of this gig economy
people are not seeing human to human
interaction

QUALITY:
half a joint
and half a 70cl bottle of Welsh whiskey
talking about sport

that England vs Switzerland match
but then that
Netherlands match vs Turkey
and i'm about to talk Olympics:
tis the season to by ****** holy
and Japanese pederasty
like so got me involved...

kettle?
pan?
kettle-pan
cups-ahoy: one is for a lesbian: i'm sure:
let's get technical:

i was actually looking up the Architect
of the Third *****:
Third ***** history is so rich
in its mythology and genocide that
it's a fetish
that i only acquired having acquired
the English language first...

**** Architecture is still ALIVE...
just think of the hands that did
the work of laying brick on brick
and you can still see ghosts
like jazz hands applauding
those still living...
of those who constructed Wembley
to now those who work in Wembley:

what a disparity:
CONSTRUCTION ARMY > WARFARE ARMY
you only realize that
when working in the security industry:
the military personnel became demoted
while the construction army
became promoted to the status of ACTOR
poet...
SUPERVISOR...

today my father said that supervisor
in the construction industry:
but a supervisor in the security industry:
i demoted myself
wanted go back to the roots:
unhinge myself from the shackles
of a profession: no career
a job is money...

    if i were a rich man... phantom of the opera
and fiddler on the roof:
somehow mashed up mashed up mashed up mashed up!

of this world i only ask of three
things:
not the father the son and holy ghost:
as man to man and then
translating to woman:
tortured by a blockjob
kept this one ***** chick dear mummy
got a new fairstyle
and for all the Gardens of King Solomon
just my me and David and the Lute
and Swan Song: Monogamy of the ****
*** ***... donkey cure of carrots..

just seeing these ex military men
work in the security industry alongisde
ex construction men
and how there's work in work
there's absolutely work in work
i'm doing overtime
playing actor psychologist pingpong...

three things:

A GOOD WOMAN: WHOLESOME
               AGRARIAN:
                   PARADOXICAL:
        DOGMATIC:
                 (looking: looking: for
a word: working agrarian:
hubris: hunting blues...
                       tip to tongue
tip to tongue... RUSTIC!)
SOME GOOD WHISKEY
A SHERBET *****
& good music
that's the 4th goldfish:
for you to hide like
a dragon
and that's the 1st wish of my 3
and that's 4...

                  as a fan of football
of sport
how is England supposed to compete
with the national furor of
both Netherlands where interrogation
integration worked:
where Turkey there's integration
of *** apparent Turks looking more like
Europeans rather than Middle Easterners
and that's because i count the shift of Rome
and no longer the Ottoman claimant
of Byzantium:

best reading encyclopedia history
when watching a football match:
best thing to do!
best: thing! to: do!

ABJECT:
   experienced or present to the maximum degree
   not: completely without pride or dignity; self-abasing

ergo: AUBJECT:
               having a self-deprecating sense of humor?

   𐰀‎𐰋‎𐰖‎𐰅‎    (abje-)              otherwise

        TA:           𐱃‎𐰀‎
        AT:            𐰀‎𐱅

                𐰶  (iq, qi, queue calf)

𐰢   (m)

                𐰔‎  (z)

supposedly these letters govern:
                 whatever it is they govern
although the latter have
no back no frontal vowel variation
as other consonants

old Turkic as the prototype
for Runes:

               just thinking about the great
migrations of people:

the islands of Polynesia with New Zealand
and Hawaii included
that began in Taiwan
ventured not to Thailand
but across those islands above
Australia: maybe Indonesia probably
given the etymology of Polynesia
and Indonesia being the islands that
peeled themselves off
the Indian subcontinent...

      ergo if the Mongols did the migration
by conquest
then the Turkic people spread from
Mongolia too
but slowly and without much conquest
or Empire building
only as the Ottomans did they
invest in empire prior to them the Seljuks
Tughril and Chaghri...

but before that migrated as merchants
and probably journeymen
not as lamentable as the nomads of
the Twelve Tribes
not really with religion behind
and religion ahead: newly ascribed
to the pagans of their own
mischief and not mischief some genuine
concern for the souls of pagans
i don't know...

but given the letters
there are some exchange of ideas about
how to communicate most
effectively
and in writing and to better remember
then escape from the oral tradition
and all that ******* and *******
to not forget
  
            by now we are living into our 80s
and the bones give way
at the knees and not from a lack
of intuition but old age seems
counter intuitive when it comes to living
and before you could on a whim
and gravitas sense the vivo virilitas
and some vino veritas
  
                          while death was in glass:
mortem in vitro:

                      now we have to carry it with
us: like we always did
but now we can see how death makes
babies and old people
generic in their appearance:
how before we die
we see death and time wrangle us
and crunch us like paper
and before that all there was talk
of the resurrection of the body:
i'm guessing the reality of that being:
on the instance of your death
you would be resurrected as you were
say: 33 and in full strength to
give people a Glastonbury festival affair
but on Golgotha and without
music to fear...

however i don't trust Gothic: the script
is so deviant from Runes
and by then the Greeks must have visited
such places up north
and no wonder their solidified their presence
with the Russians
and what became of Greek was Cyrillic
and some reminder of Slavonic in Glagolitha:

Glagolithic: monolithic: definitely seismic in scope
the history we all know
or perhaps that's just me being pedantic
as i've taken to reading random
encyclopedia articles
and maybe they're not so random
while
the Continent shifts towards the Right
while the Island shifts towards the Left:
but it's not called the right or the left
on the Island
instead you have to sort of sprinkle some covert
wording: Converse to Conserve:
Labor with Public Toils:

         i knew Rishi would lose
after the shifty 3rd term
i don't remember how the past 14 years happened
i remember two general elections:
really remember only two
the second being staged on the promise
of leaving the European Union
the first one obviously to usurp what was
happening: shape shifting democracy
on top
how many minor prime ministers did
we have after Cameron:

Theresa May
Boris Johnson
Liz Truss
Rishi Sunak          - a fine spell:

but i don't remember any of them being elected:
maybe i'm just forgetful
but i just remember the changing of hands
for a third stretch:
and not much else:
i remember some local elections
maybe...
                      but nothing really:

oh:                 so there were elections in 2017
                                                and in 2019...
but those seemed like internal affairs:
and almost sidelined
at least to my knowledge only yesterday
did a Conservative Party
representative knock on my door
and asked me to bring my passport
and vote for the local MP
who was only 0.6% points ahead in the poll

this not so model citizen didn't
vote:
                                               even with the Muslim
and Asian vote:
have to talk demographics
some thought that there would be an Asian
prime minister by the vote of the people
rather than a reshuffle and
one dittohead talking over another
i know how biodiversity is great
but ethno-diversity is yet to be anything
a social experiment:
calmly: bluntly:

     would the native population vote in
an Asian prime minister
                      apparently not so and that's
not to stipulate that low hanging fruit
of calls to arms anti-fascists and anti-racists unite!
no:
i'm not an anti-racist: i'm just not racist...
if Kanye West can be a self-proclaimed
****
   and love ice-creams of Moscow then who
am i to judge myself
based upon politics        but sometimes
it's greatly sobering to have politics ******
into your face
like a milkshake at a politician and if
Nigel Farage is not the tamed Enoch Powell
then: i am a great admirer of the latter
but the former is my contemporary
and i can't see the big picture
just the little man and i myself am a little man
too because
i live in these times and have no luxury
(if it can be called that)
to look at and into history and probably
make the usual suspects list of mistakes...

if once poetry was so potent that
they could incarcerate Ezra Pound in a mental
asylum
that must have been a wonderful time to be a poet
not in the 1960s with the Beatniks
but at a time when a poet could be sentenced
and sent to a mental asylum
like a prison because you know that's
when words were POWER:
and whoever wielding them was considered
powerful...

                  what a time to have been alive:
now they just get the mob at you
and the little censors
     anonymous and like a flash rule of meteorlogical
whims:
               no real authority of the state
against a bothersome individual a poet of no concern
it would seem these days
a fringe lunatic
maybe i should start looking at
kidnapping plot websites and Satanic:
go covert go and start using TOR and the dark web
maybe then i'd get on the right
side of the wrong radar:

sincerely though:
i do remember better schools, better roads,
better transport...
maybe i'm just kidding myself: maybe i don't remember:
under labour -
schools i can probably say yes to
after all i did on ly pay £1200 a year in tuition
fees circa 2004 - 2007
and i really go my money's worth
a chemistry degree in my third year
implied 12 hours in laboratories
then at least 5 hours in lecture halls
   and on top of that i think i did some extra
courses:
   history in year two: that's 5 hours of lecture
and 1 hour tutorial...
failed French but had a French girlfriend
so i guess: half a pass...

         some I.T.: i knew how to build a basic
HTML
    but born way too late to credit from
a .COM                 boom with the likes of Amazon
and there seemed to be no real incentive
to go into the field
perhaps because my father was / is
a construction worker
              work was deemed elsewhere not in front
of the screen: officers were
constructed but not worked in:

as i wonder about the work that
went into constructing Wembley and other Arenas
and i no wonder about the sub-par
staff now employed in these places
and that's a god's green and honest truth

the work itself: crowd management and safety
is a PARETO PRINCIPLE
i.e.:
          20% of people
          cause
          80% of the problems...

the rest of the work is rather dull in that
i put on a smile and a concerned face
and whether i'm sometimes sincere i am not
always: authentic...
although i can be both authentic and sincere
i feel i'm more real if
push comes to shove:
i remain authentic but insincere
rather than
    crush myself under falsehoods
of sincerity mashed up with inauthentic (being)

that's like the complete opposite
of what one can accomplish with Heidegger's
da-sein:
and i have been prone to talk philosophy
with fellow coworkers
but it was not so much philosophy but about
human behavior: and that's not philosophy?
hardly a conversation about individuals
some variation of potholes i.e. nagging i.e.
scheming i.g. soap opera jargon...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

apparently upon waking i stink
of marijuana and *****:
evil dog demon i
but i did ask her: my mother:
to set up internet banking with me
while she complained
that she still doesn't know
the word trick of ctrl+c/+p
while i do it all the time
something to envy the positioning of my
hands at the keyboard

so ended up spending a day
among the civilized LIVING
not stuck in books
and the DEAD
and it was sobering:
refreshing: boring: but at least real:
and i don't know why
or where i got my ordeal of
Plato's despotic beauty:
that's gone...

               then the love of vinyls and CDs
and then books
and all living dead people not around
me
the Plateau and the Shield Volcanos
one on Kauai
one on Mars
and one on Venus
the eyes of earth competing with the grand
eye of wind that's Dune that's
Jupiter:
beyond halos of Saturn Neptune and Uranus
Catholic mantra: become small
Chinese mantra: become small
cope
let the world enlarge:
let the world be the world
and the universe of being
let the world become a place of non-being:

back to the world of the living
one bottle of white Italian wine
to get started:
then the measured approach
half a joint
deodorant spray into the garden
to mask the stench of half a joint
that's 0.05g Sherbert Mariquana
from America
and at least 1.5g of tobacco
from the Spirit of America the Polynesians
brought us cups of salt
the Indians the tobacco
and the whites just some technology:
i still have one last whiskey gulp: gloog:
Kosher Diet:
proper Goat killing...

      vegetarian Myo Muyu:
then i hear applause
from the garden
and i decide to put some music on: i'm putting some
music on some music on some...

(the mood wil eventually change:
bright colors, sparkly dust etc)

i was that guy: but then love's and life's disruptive
forces began gnawing at my brain
and hmm ha ha: provider trope
education the smallest economic sector
on Kauai
otherwise perfect shifty:
two pence three pence: three:
got my other fingers on a leash
extensions of your ****
and i don't know so desperately seeking
in ***** when you are
the other side
this *** swallow sum sore: oh O...

five Taylor Swift concerts:
i don't know:
i'm thinking about 16th and 20th
to add:
no i still haven't sent the t-shirts
i'm thinking i got the sizes wrong
all Wok and ***** and WONG Rrrrr:
grit with trill

the one letter in any alphabet
that has an ONOMATOPOEIA
for a NOUN: a name Trill is R:
what you do with the letter
whenever you see it:

cf. Rattlesnake...

             cf. Rattlesnake...

what: a: slow: day!
impossible day: mission:
get through to 1am
abandon a poem halfway through the day:
return: like going back to Edie
start a poem in the dimension
of the Yin & Yang...

              this is me experimenting with time:
i can stretch it:
the color to the canvas
when poetry is invoked:
time is my cognitive: constant stance:
half a joint and some whiskey
wrapping my Martin's Ring over
my Quarus' ear:
because i am magic man
because magic abounds:
nothing on earth
but in the universe
planets are people
and we choose to live on Mars
the Dune and Jupiter:
not yet... not yet...

                   waking up so late so late
half a day in the first two hours
of waking:
but i spent them talking in bed
and both of you said:
i was LOAF of LOATHING
red flag language

                                           then language itself:
can i please, please please please
be EX_USED:
excused:
                from this mundane: I.T. *******:
so IT looks less scary as acronym
I.T.:
            gotcha Braille .:              ! dye no die?

i told her my dream:
i was eating out two tubs of ice cream
and i wonder if Reyla thinks of me:
i'm not hearing Reyla making an references
to me:
i'd like to hear Reyla talk about me:
such an uncomfortable truth: for seeker...

                            there is work in the ethereal
and whether it's essential or not:
discarded, easily: existentially:
per: instance ex: every insistence:
an insomniac moth
a laborer fly
sleeping:

                too late to wake up and eat
breakfast with my father?
not nice...
  i wouldn't miss it for that world:
that's why i took measured steps:
now i get it:
i've only seen Reyla for 6 weeks in her
environment
and 3 weeks in my environment:
excuse you jealous man
and Ilona's prophecy so far removed:
that a man would forgo
and say unto mother and father:
my wife: your peer:
but i have a daughter:

           biological equivalence of dated:
"product"...
after all James Joyce took his schizophrenic
daughter down Finnegan's Wake:
and at least:
  libra: delta: score...

                                     Christ's Ronaldo
saying goodbye to the architecture:
it was almost comical
but a grand bowing out:
like Murray's Andy: bowing out:
this the season to be pensive:
for some melancholic jolly later
come the first days of July
and Cancer approaches
of Births
and the days IMMEDIATELY SHORTEN
to early 9pm
lights...

           the fates decided:
that is right: some people exist without gods
and abstracts
some people are pure IN VIVO
not pure IN VITRO:
in glass i see sand and in sand i see glass
but some people live elevated lives
of body thirst
and mind lust:
of body first
and mind last:
of body thirst
and mind lust...

                   that: sounds.... about right...

                      but the big topic was still
immigration:
the wages will not go up
and the food prices:
jeez:
politics no aside:

   an immigrant talking about immigration:
not the summoning of expatriate English
wording: from Charity Shield to Community Shield
from Aboriginal to Native
Pre-Colonial wording: i.e. no wording
no paper just boomerangs...

INDIGENOUS: not native...
higher tier Darwinism of wording just the right
politically correct artifact...

but a little b it by b i t complicated, no?

                                        the secrecy of the Left emerges:
now less so scolding at not having the reins
of the Reign:
perhaps now given the added responsibilities
they can stop bemoaning themselves
moaning at not being tried at being
competent instead seen as these narcissists
perhaps now in
this living Democracy of the United Kingdom:
did i figure out
that i do not get a vote for the Prime Minister:
blocker: King...
therefore i have to vote for my local MP
i sleepwalked through the G.E. of 2017 and 2019
i almost forgot Corbyn and the Late Parade...

then again my mouth was ash and journalism
and my eyes were looking to everywhere
and elsewhere:
more insipid work
and since the container will include
the sofa and the bed:
scared of the fiction: now?
no a sugar mommy:
but i just thought
this was another reality checker:
how rich people hide their wealth
because it can become to mean: personal:
like certain books coins: kopeks:
Dinaree...

                    uncombed horses:
falsify violin bows...              kiss kiss:
money money money:
    money money money:
           riches upon riches:
lands in distant land of island:
property
love becoming economic
slowing down
conversation i already know
the trinity of Peter
Jeff and Jason
and on repeat
and i know but how much does
it: i: deserve for it to hurt
if: a subtle whisper:
of what is
to what if

            language so cruel: yet so crucial:
but of those mentioned how
many exfoliated with words
and treated them with respect:

after all isn't there a war happening
between words and images
and words becoming images
like PEPSI
and PRADA
while images becoming words:

but that's ancient:
and certified:
accounted for by correctly
focused on: ideograms
and traffic color beyond symbol
strategy:

not RED AMBER BLUE
                          but GREEN:
or GRUE and BLEEN...
my first encounter with philosophy
came in Edinburgh:
2nd year: maybe 3rd:
philosophy of science: david hume:

i was taught about david hume
in edinburgh:
that's a bit like
being taught Kant
in the University of Königsberg...
David Hume the genius
i too went mad in the streets
of Edinburgh i walked
bare footed
and with a stick:
and that was my crescendo:

i spent a good 30min thinking about
Fiona and Tristan:
and how life so strange remains:
life and strangeness
and doubly that: estrangement....

         but at least i returned to the world
of the living for a bout of
admiring the forgiving
mythos: Ronaldo bowing out of the Colliseum
pity that i might be rememebered
and he will be forgotten:
because: i catered for the few
and the few slithered: like Hell is an Elephant
and in Memory: but also slithers
winding rivers and longer paths
because of the blood type PATHOS...

              Serenity Red not just simply: so red:
squirrel: carrot... onion bell bottom: blues...
Serenity Red not just so simply: red so red...
     holding back
            cradle fiddler how ***** how natural
how oh so ol' 'n' gunning for
furor!