ḥave some or
a cockey
apostrophe 'ave some:
oculus per oculus
because i'm this
close to the fire
and all i need is some sulphur
to give it the proper stink!
my belly full of *****
is: the lake of fire and here i am
king slither and king worm
that championed over the serpent
the worm that ate the serpent
that became the disfigured
dragon.

i'm a pagan: i was born yesterday...
please try to convert me:
but as much as i adore the logic sustenance
of Latin letters in the dynamic
of Hebrew thinking
i can't join the tribe:
such is their exclusivity anti-racism ha ha...
my choices... hmm...
become a christ-*******
or Allah's **** all in *****...
******* in prayer
***** up in the air, gentlemen! like
you just don't care! who-ah!
oh the release of emotion with those letters:
better than any sing-along surah
no mantra conquers: who-ah!
Al Paccino style scent of a woman: who-ah!
ooh: i'm getting the jibbly-fiddlets-poonnanie...
remind me: a long time ago:
if an atheist met god:
the god of the eaters of gods
the semite god eater
the yahweh who ate up Baal... etc.
and then tried to conquer, quelch, quench...
YQWQ the yaqwuq...
the darkest bride of how impartial
the yahweh was
with Adam and Eve
to split that headache of the siamese
twin Æ...
      oh but these are not mere hieroglyphs:
nature happens:
so do mutations...
suppose you throw a sacrificial lamb into
this slaughterhouse of ideas:
you think: poor semite...
improvising with the Greeks
you might conquer Rome
and... and... at the same time:
conquer the north with your milḥemet mitzvah?
us pagans would not secure rooting
in ontology etymology and
the likes: there would be no mythos ascribed
to us?
perhaps the Slavic gods yawned:
but Europeans retained the Nordic influences
so stressed for children
in cinema with Thor and etc
because Zeus was too Henry II
Angevin etc etc
        the god eating other gods
had indigestion and outright coinstipation
when dealing with the pagans of the north
it had to breed tremedous intellect
of individuals:
blindly walking north to the chimney of
Auschwitz
with the crucified son
that conquered the realms of Huitzilopochtli...
humming i hum too:
like a rainbow *******
a head that arouses Salome...
        so he sacrificed his son to create the zombies
of the north: these pedantic *******
oops and oosies
yet a memory of Odin remains...
it's even pop...
couldn't digest these gods: not even with your
crucified ******* christ and added
to spice some salt mumbo jumbo
of kosher pork and the Islamic peoples
threw their own stink into the matter
this hitchhiker no celestial worthy
no... if that wayward projection of a people:
imagine the Jews as Dwarfs in the
Lord of the Rings... a people displaced:
but how else would you encourage conquering
a people's spirit and their mythos
with your own and leave the ground
so desecrated with secular atheism
     this ******* this worm of a womb
like i told Edie though:
i'm trying to reimagine the brothel:
but i can't... because the best ****** come
out of the church...
a crusade here: a jihad over there...
          but if Jesus was just the standard to
give allowance to the "father"
to go as far as to eat the gods
sculpted in marble of the Greeks: who did take
the hook and sinker:
why are we still reminiscent of Odin
and Thor and Loki? and popularise them?
maybe i'm all looking awry...
the consecrated son of conquest:
but beyond the Roman Empire there were
the unforseen nomads, barbarians of the north...
i believe in the organic deity that
is at fault and also dumbfounded by
the grand awe of the yawn of indifference
that is the cosmic verse:
like oasis and the verse
like blur and reef: four brit-pop bands...
notably the latter bands had two songs
better than the former:
better man and give me your love...
i'm still searching for that poem i left
Edie in shrapnel(s)... purposively plural by choice:
oh jeez these pink communists
are driving me mad these stone-suckers
i'm being drilled... to expect so much more
from people i hardly want to talk
to them...
    each night shift i return home all
coked up on insomnia i see these lethargic
lice and dumbo doughs
and it just wakes up a Vlad the Impaler in me
and i think that being impaled
would be a better sacrifice: seriously? just crucified?
how about two weeks spent being
impaled through the **** up to the throat?
did he? die for everyone?
i'm pretty sure Judas died for himself
sure as **** he hanged himself before
Jesus was crucified...
           unless the current state of affairs
in England is no longer
****-
            hyphen! hyphen! prefix! prefix!
ugh... -stani     suffix! hyphen! suffix!
tender little lamb to the slaughter of my verbiose
cunning... some more some more
all the other littles...
                  but like one Ukranian girl said
to me: so these gang rapes and all...
i couldn't get a **** out of an English girl
even if i wanted to...
these was the French Grenoble exchange student
the Australian, the Russian girl...
now i have to fly all the ******* way
out to Kauai (in Hawaii) for some smooch...
but an English girl? no...
and i hear of these ****- **** gangs
of eager 15 year old English girls and i'm like:
huh?! seriously? that easy?
just give them candy and botox then
pour some petrol on them and tell them
you'll smash their teeth out if they don't ****
your blistered skin ****?
  wow... that easy?!
            the Ukranian girl just said: so...
where were those girls' parents?
           i don't know: i'm sure i wasn't there...
so for these Pakis to get all that freely available
jelly and juice and here i am
having to fly over 7000 miles to **** a girl
in Hawaii...          great...     super...
thank **** i'm not English: to begin with.

the geocentric remodelling of the human psyche:
two eyes in the sky
apparently a bad omen is seeing the moon
at noon: although that's perfectly so in winter:

a geocentric levelling of what once was...
i checked and as far as i remember
Richard Dawkins stated that he
was confirmed:
i wasn't too sure whether Confirmation was
solely a catholic rite of passage
but apparently the Church of England
does confirmations...

luckily for me i'm not a "hypocrite" or rather
a lackey for some intellectual cause
like atheism
but unlike the collective atheism of communist
states: this pathetic individualistic
scribble doodle-dah-d'oh...

i was born yesterday
i'm a pagan
i adorn myself in night and pareidolia
i employ dreams to rip through the fabric
of reality:
and there are dreams where you dream
of words
and that's called obfiscation
i'll check the meaning of obfiscation now...
ah U: obfuscation...
               that's when you dream of words
because images are so clear
and pattern solving
like reading colours at the traffic lights
and when you are permitted to move...

from an early age i read about the Gnostic heresies
in my catholic school of Canon Palmer
Seven Kings, Essex...
i'm surprised they had a book on Gnostic heresy
so publically available
but like any horcrux or volatile materials
like magnesium or sodium
saturated in moth and webs and obscurity
just waiting there like a phantom with daggers
for teeth: this miasma of sweet death toll
this tonic for the intellect:
and then match gnosticism with paganism
and ask the monotheistic religions
who is willing to convert me
then again: don't bother...
i can't belong to the most exclusive club
within monotheism
i can't be Jewish i don't come from Hebrew
stock
i can't be circumcised i don't even know
why they bothered to baptise me
and give me a Hebrew first name
my actual name is of Germanic stock:
my second name is probably my truer name...
now if i were confirmed i would actually
choose a third name for myself...
i think i would have chosen Gideon,
or Asmodeus... something along those lines...
or maybe some other...
but i didn't ask to be baptised...
just like the marriage of Poland and Lithuania...
and why paganism in Europe was still
alive somehow having missed Lithuania
by a stretch of
while the Muslim Turks were sacking the delight
of wisdom in Constantinople
the failed third crusade and the disgruntled Germans
because Barbarossa died in the most comic
way that the pickle barbarossajuice finally
reached Jerusalem
decided: maybe we need a crusade up north
and how did the Russians become so orthodox
and self-assured
maybe it's true what they say:
Christianity is like Communism...
              they always have that idealistic argument
of: but it wasn't true Christianity...
it wasn't true Communism...
        the **** was i baptised for? did i ask to be baptised?
clearly no: since in my youth i already
decided to not be confirmed...
   technically i can't take marriage in church:
it's this stretch of imagination and clinging to authority
oh jeez... pride? i can't be guilty of pride...
i can be guilty of wrath:
i am short-tempered: unbelievably so...
but that's also what makes me tender:
a short temper tenderness
i use anger to exhaust myself and bring fruition of
that exhausted peace... but that's enough about moi...

two eyes in the geocentric model...
i see myself walking on the ego of the moon...
with the sun as god
                     and i return my gaze back to earth
and see the id...
and there is no superego to mention
until i make my descent back
from my delegation as the psychenaut...
weird: the Russians called them cosmonauts...
the Americans astronauts...
cosmos and the Astra
ex Astrum...                  astrology astronomy
cosmology and a jumble hiccup of etymological
fetishes to arrive at the suffix -naut
from nought?
                    -naut disrupts the intelligence of AI...
hyphens are not recognised in artificial thinking
via the immediacy of AI interruption
of algorigthm... which is now very recurrent:
prior to algorithms were not equipped
with AI capabilities...
but since then: algorithms have been imbued
with AI...
                      and i did ask Monsieur Chez Chat
about the difference between AI and
algorithm... so we're on good course...
              ah: ναύτης - sailor...
                              then i must be a... soul...
navigator...
a...

                   ψυχήπλοηγός

psychiploigos...            depending on the context
of meaning: with at least two letters having
the same sounds
the meanings must differ:
notably why the eta (η) is exchanged for the iota (ι)
and there being not only
the omicron (o) and omega (ω)
but also the upsilon (υ) - oh ooh ugh...
that's being very blunt...
the ingenius recommendation of bilingualism
and not actually learning a third language
to the working faculty but
out of interest...                           psy-ché
(but not Ché like Guava Ger...
   ***** type of e off é...
                   so no psu...         psy-like-sigh
and the psigh...         hmm very much a riddle
but of sounds... the dyslexic bother:
yes... we spell knight night nigh and ought
for thought although V and F
     are there too)
                            psy-long-i-that's-y
   and why i don't know but such is the concentration
of meaning:
i have this long poem i left with Edie
in its infancy i think i'll get back to it at some
point...

might ask a ****** about the relationship
of i to the długie "i" that's a jot (j)
then might ask and wonder:
why do the Polacks have... a Greek style
name for a letter that's Y namely IGREK?
unlike all the other letters:
the Poles have a name for a letter...
like the Greeks used to have a name for aLPHA
and bETA and oMEGA
and uPSILON
             the Poles didn't adopt... ooh wait!
it's like the Easter Egg phenomenon
of a computer game...      perhaps we didn't
adopt the Greek into Cyrillic cheap-oh so *******
wong that alphabet looks
so ******* hacked... ugh...
so the Poles paid tribute in Latin to the Greeks
and gave one letter a Greek accent of influence:
Y is named IGREK...
                           spell that otherwise phonetically
in English... otherwise...
only in these dark perverted times in England
can something remotely thrilling emerge
on a page from this obscurity on the outskirts
of Loon-Don.

oh this night, this sobering "cold":
well... it's no longer cold
said a Scouser to a Londoner:
it's no longer deemeable to say "cold":
it's actually freezing... and it is...
my face is pinched with a thousand angry
chickens
i'm drooling my snot is freezing on
my 'tash
               and there are ***** on the ends
of what used to be my fingertips:
but i'm happy like so
with moon and shadows
and all that flamboyant romanticism of
language that escapes the modern
secular
post-communist = post-colonial
and with the new advent of "communism":
see... at least when the Slavic people
tried out communism
it worked for a while and it's o.k. that it
worked for a while...
but the fetish of communism in the west:
the western fetish for a communism
with an archetypical evil of a ****:
a communism of ethno-centric mitigation...
like...
stressing the importance of how
the schematic the dissection of man was
achieved...
i can understand the superego as something
that is concentrated within the realm
of external forces of check...
an external societal norm of expectations
and playing chess
because there are rules...
3D chess i can explain in the internet
arcade of robot wars... fair enough...
but for games to be played there is a need
to implement rules: otherwise there's no
game to begin with...
imagine that sort of disorientated game
of entitlement and equal outcome
in a game a chess: well that would make
the idea, merely the idea: of playing,
a game of chess... a lot like: pointless?!
see, i love the two experience of dreams:
there are dreams i have whereby i do image
arithmetic and then there are dreams were
i simply dream of words:
as if looking up from reading a book
on the London tube...
London... aha... the star constellations
look so different south of the river...
but i get it: the superego as not part of my
schematic:
i can do with the ego-id dualism
but i can't stomach the hyphen being infiltrated
by a *******-upped Freud giving me
the internalisation of the superego as
momma and papa while society is no big brother
the superego externalised like how
the starfish eats by throwing up its cloud
of stomach or how the fly vomits on its food
then ***** it up... tasteless:
consciousness is devoid in this world of
paraphrase:
         at least if the superego is external and
part of societal infrastructure...
then at least it's not an internalised conflation:
rigid... ******* monstrosity
but even Christ couldn't create a draft
trinity
having his mother exluded from the mix
because how must have it happened
when John the Baptist did that thing with Jesus
and the dove descended and
if not two people then at least three heard
upon that signture of baptism:
he's my son... and i'm proud of him...
who? Jesus? or John the Baptist?!
Christianity has become a sort of covert-synonym word
for Communism in the mouths of western Liberals
when a new fashion statement of not treating
thoughts as freedoms
but instead fashion statements and trendy
parrot behavior settles...
the right kind of Christianity would invoke
the Church establishing a pontif with a bride...
Protestantism tried that
and it workek for a while but then Christianity
died because of the ordeal of time biology
and geology
so if you think of Communism as a time-constrained
experiment
you can start thinking of Christianity
as a time-constrained experiment that is unnanutral
by now: count 2000 years:
because how many lives are to be lived
for Christ to reach the limit of 33 springs
but still not married or fathering children
becoming a Hebrew patriarch?
i do wonder... so no wonder why the church
the institution has problems with only
alligning itself with pedophiles and homosexuals...
since... the woman is desecrated:
instead of the celebration of woman
we have this bogus shallow of church...
well it's never a Tsarist Russia and the Serfs
it's always this western narrative and
the African slaves: it's never about the Russian
serfs...
this darkest murk
this inability to lounge these Polacks
becaue oh so hard to be working in the sugar cane
fields and not the ****** whiggers
working the coal mines:
it's always the ******* juice-ash of Holocaust
in concentration camps but never the Slavic
workers of earth unearthing darkness of
the ****** bunker...
at least in idea the ideal slaughter
but being kept alive: to do the ***** work?
even Gone with the Wind alludes to when
Miss Goodietow-lost-a-shoe
begins her business venture
and employs some white-oh-yoyos
to dig for her
and no ******* ****** in sight
oh jeez these pseudo-communists have left
my **** in the form of a slobbering oyster
of a ****...
i find myself unable to return to Poland
and i can't stay in England
and i can't make the US my home
so i need to think about Polynesia and
making a Genghis Khan implosion:
like i told Edie when she dumped the carcas
of Musubi on the garbage ****:
through the needle with the rich men we walked:
i said i was dreaming...
and i need to find Taiwan but not Thailand...
because the beast of the sea needs to meet
the beast of the earth
and fire was baron...
such a long poem i wrote to Edie
about vikings and the desperation of the Poles
for Danzig, which precursored London
as the global advent of intellect:
where Farhenheit was born and bothered
Celcius
that i am sure: Calvin never spoke to Luther
and then just the origins of originals:
the sin being a plagiarism...
realising when sleeping a full breadth of day
i am both
lactose and apple intolerant:
i **** thoroughly throughout ingesting both...
so i am PAGAN therefore i was born yesterday
and there are three monotheisms and a Buddha ****...
well... one of these supposed monotheisms
became complicated and became the polyglot
polytheism of the same person
a mirror hall... not something truly geometric
Islam emerged as counter to Judaism
a competitor and Christianity
a fools errand...
fool Christ no saviour...
without marriage then "they" conjured the possbility
in the French as there: was always a lineage
and inheritance tax...
to stop history
and revert to some Apollonian Atlantis...
but in this murk of Dionysian murk and
smiles-of-chaos...
             i see a nunnery
and where i received my first diaper...

i said the Vandals are coming: for the wind
of and the wing of metallic birds...
i leave that poem with you dear
Edie: like in that movie: Heat
Val Kilmer, Al Paccino and snot
freckle... i can't remember his name...
i see his face: i can't remember his name:
Alfredo... Alfonso...
Herald: Harrold: Harrah...
the godfather junior...
maybe his politics negates him
i'm not escaping London for Kauai and the golf...
i hate golf... i'm invested in trenches...
i need to caress my mind, somewhat...
the Taxi Driver:
i can't remember the actor's name!
weird!
who was not Al Paccino
you ******* scream at me!
i'll ******* scream back!
when you think!
i'll dream!
i'll eat...               oh right... Robert... DeNiro...
Da-Nero...
                    
    the electricity shut down
when i mentioned: the Quran was written
by Khadijjah... the elder wife of Muhammad:
i thought: or so i heard:
that Muhammad was illiterate...
not dyslexic jumble
but outright illiterate:
so who wrote the Quran if not
his older wife?

then my electricity allowance runned out...
oh... but i... marinated this argument
beside of the womb
of woman...
i came here to tame the womb of man:
that of nothing: and i am... here...
        
i was born yesterday
i am:
POGANIN...
and i'm scrutinising monotheism...
and i see
a Jewish Arab war
and i don't want to become
involved as a third party
secular
             monotheism...
          Arabs can do their Jews
and the Jews can do their Arabs:
i don't need you like the Mongols
don't need Hinduism... savvy?!
truly?! are, we, savvy?!

there was so much else i wrote:
about the Baltic Eye and seeing the futures
in the erruptng gauge of
sight bleeding a water
a tight...                      slither me a proper
pop spreschen...
i do i do
                 ach macht frei!

reality:

  VERUM.....               i count
the many
money assets....

                            something
blinded me
ontology
aesthetic
the ascetic
etymology
or history
or just simply:
the opposite ***
since no Woo of Man
and Woo of Woe... and Man
the lighthhouse ***** ****...

veritas: -um
    things are: sunt...
              as they are: suct pis....
              -um....
                and the renegades of death
came forth as if froth
and gave a quiver of the Q C K to
the wandering M V W ToY Yahweh....

reality can:
spontl...
spontaneously:
"malfunction".