as rereading of poetry (my own) goes:
it would read:
well... at least his father would be French
and the Lion would return
to Rome from the island where he would
leave a chimera to play with the unicorn
upon the question of the seriousness
of lineage
and i gather: my own life has taken
a funny escapade of demands and focus
because i should have been driving
before i have been walking in this modern-ity...
but before the sacrifice of
for now this man belong to the world:
he is not a man of the world:
he is a man who belong to the world
i was whispering the name like a football
chant: ole! ole! ole!
maybe when i die there will be a Pope
from Africa but before that stage is set
Islam needs to learn a few lessons in history
and history hasn't been kind to Islam:
initially yes, perhaps yes...
but history hasn't been kind to Islam
but at least the remains of the dinosaurs
in blood and all those little Towers of Babylon
in Dubai that all the Pakistanis are talking
about when they talk about
those who erected them in modern slavery
via Bangladesh for a few of us to not break
a sweat...
although this is not reminiscent of what it could
be
that i must feel so tiny
i did say! i did say! i hate this part where i "think"
i'm right... i did say: a Frenchman or an Irishman!
and down below
from above on the Papal Seal:
the Fleur de Lys!
and i just like dancing a dance before time
before anything truly happens...
and it seems i still wonder how to take Chriatianity
seriously i still think about
militant christianity i started to think of the empires
of faith and indeed the nation-state has dwindled
but not in the way the classical anglophone world
knows it as strictly individualistic
monkey trained capital and the freedom march
of miserable women...
i think... oh to hell with it... i'm going to drink
to the pope's health!
i could never succumb to the North American
version with those bogus preachers
i suspect the one billion strong army
of Catholic souls will grow more so now that
like Judaism was opened to the Gentiles of Europe
now Catholicism will be open and become
inheritance tax on the juke of the father
and the miasma and mothers of virginity...
i might suspect a revival of Catholicism in America
if England is going to continue to presevre
that **** way of going about capitalism
and the crushing of the individual under multiculturalism
one way: but as long as the minorities get to
their conclave and their ghettos...
       i like being intuitively aligned to the times...
and now i distance myself from my writing
as i have no ***** Roman jokes
i'm not even going to gloat...
                      because i'm already killing with a kiss
the vampire of learning the theory test for my
driving test
and i'm passing all the time and i still need
to do those 30 hours within the confines of
the driving school and pass the internal test
and then i have to leave to do Wimbledon
and some concerts in the summer
and will have to return for like a week and do
the county, external exam...
                    so if the Indians are at it with the Pakistanis
then it's a reminder: a new bishop of Rome was
elected
or just prior
because i then think of orthodox Christianity
and that's so obscure after the intervention
of Islam
at least western Christianity had an idea and blossomed
while who is to say anything spectacular
about orthodox Christianity in its origins
in Syria and Greece and Ethiopia...
at bit like those cognitive tourists pseudo-poets
from America in the Beatnik brigade being humbled
by oriental thinking like all-is-nothing
like then go to the Chinese market
and sell dog and cluck and spark a conversation
about t.n.t. and Batman and HIVCORONA...
no fool you but at least i adhere to the instrument
that dictates to me...
before the altar of the name and the dates
the confines of the grave
the open air... in the necropolis...
it's not the Cathedral of St. Peter
but my little brick corner of the coliseum of mortality
and the grave is where i pity my little thoughts
and i pity my little thoughts
because that's where i trap my ego
my ineffectual ego in all its egoness or egoism
and i know that the voice in my mind
is mostly trapped Satan
and i don't mean a Satan of grandiosity Miltonian
my own personal ineffectual vegetable state
sATAN... the Atman or somewhere in between...
but from one shadow to another shadow
a key was passed
and i hope the world didn't think that
this institution would bend the knee
and simply give into the people and say:
a BLACK POPE! since an Latino pope just died...
i just hoped there would be true learning
in judgement
and sometimes if you can witness an Electoral...
it's better than living in a Democracy...
yes... like what used to happen in
the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth:
whereby only the nobles were given rights
to elect a new king of Poland and
the king was elected from the lesser kings in waiting
of other nations of Europe...
well... so much for living in a Democracy...
i much prefer living in the crab-bucket of
the secular pride and agony of the current spoof
and **** mustard licking non-budge:
if there's that Hill of Rome with the Shining Light
and that process is a Tier above Democracy...
i will sooner believe in that Process...
whereby the Informed Elect are given
EARNED rights to vote...
than giving anyone the ******* trickery of:
where no hand washes another hand
instead probably resorts to ******* or choking
another or sign-language
and the grey matter of politics without the clarity
of 20th century adventurers of the desports
like ****** like Mao like Stalin:
those SPEZZIALS... of the 20th century:
dwarfing the authority of Popes and obviously
the Kings are extinct... are going to be:
the last reserve for some bricks and mortar relegated
to England
while Whitechapel Whittle Ingsh'shleen land is
and is the stink of New Bombay...
because you might think because it's written in English
it's not half rotting Irish and i want to
go away...
but at least in that sort of Democracy i believe
the process... the pomp and measure and circumstance
i believe in the Democracy that Elected
the Pope...
i don't believe in the Democracy of the People
that Elects the President...
because effectually that's an Election of an Election
and when i tried to vote in England
i realized i couldn't because there was too much
blockage
and i gave up
also realizing that i wouldn't be voting
for the Prime Minister but my local Member of Parliament...
so England the the Vatican aligned
although the Vatican makes more sense
than England
England is **** ENGLAND is ****
i don't care what it believes by now it's delusional...
i believe in a Democracy of the Elect...
i don't believe in a Democracy
as some bogus "god" given or "ontological" ripe
way to prescribe how people organize themselves...
i don't believe in this American Democracy and
its subsequent clamor and itches...
i believe in a Democracy of the Elected
elected through duty and patience and perseverance
but to give a vote out just like that...
who could possibly believe in the western
notion of democracy
when that sort of democracy of anyone for anyone
i believe in strict rules i believe
in being informed...
kick a rock down the road and call it a disgruntled
mountain...
like the media that parasite of democracy
that is this beast...
thankfully the Lion has returned to Rome
from the marriage to a Unicorn in England
and i'll maybe i'll whoever will leave
a fake Lion a Chimera still wedded to that Unicorn
and perhaps the Lion will return to Rome
and what a great opening with Ave Maria and talk
of peace with a smile
because i too wonder what the stresses of
that position will bring but then you wonder
how resolute and Park-Ming-Son
   Jean-Pauli-zhe-Sek-Und woz...
                                and wow... these elections happen
with such spectacular precision children weep
and i'm lost in believing the western world
or any alternative is giving me enough
care to worry about the world to preserve itself...
i'm content:
i did whisper the name... leo... leo.... leo...
ah but with hindsight and knowing how the internet
works: charlatan! you want to be right!
not really...         i did predict a Frenchman of the throne
of st. Peter...
double whammy he also has H'American credentials!
ha! and there's me also applying for a Green Card
to ******* to Kauai... so... m'eh m'eh... BLAH!

i do wonder under how many years\the Greeks
spent under Islam
the Islam of the Turks an Asian variation
a Euroasian vision
go pleae give Australia give us a hug
because of AC/DC and Silverchair
and the BBQ "keyboard"

there i was thinking it would be a great
cover to drink
a little bit a little bit a little bit too much
in grandma's house
before the Black MAdonna MY Lady
peace before the Swedes took over
thje party....

Brastislau
Brelau
     Bronis'aw Brodorski
i ten ch'op ten obok:
ja ja! schnell schnell!
te oba! te dvaj!
daj daj daj~!

just enough poison with enough
touch
because i read Olson and Welles
and Pound:
this petty worth of imagery
and the lady from the hills...
to night adventure
into hopes of dreams
in the culprit with the huddling pigeons...
a return to 6am sunshine and walks
rather than sleeping in...

i like watching a football match
on the balcony
because the air is tight
and cold
and i'm living a plagiarism of Knausgaard's
life i am learning to drive
a car and my birthday is coming up
and i'm actually getting **** done
like talking to my fairy godmother
i don't think she knows
my life in Poland
she only only knows my life in England
and in English
she doesn't know that i live
a double life a double lie therefore
the truth
i think of god when i'm alone
and watching a football match
i was going to save that joint
for when i was planning to graduate
with a driving license i was going
to exchange on the black market
of the banana boat men
i was going to lead the catholic revival of England
i would make it my mission to convert
England back to Catholicism
and i would be there
like an Islam
in my Catholicism
i would have the Empires of the Incas
the Aztec
the Spanish Indians
not the English Indians
that Chimera Beast of the British Empire
it would be an Emblem
of a Unicorn and a Chimera:
not a Lion
and there i would put my green cross
on a flag of yellow
i admired the flags of imaginary countries
like the white and black PRussians
i would think about history
without looking at history books
i would be the only stoner in the village
the village Shaman
and this is res cogitans
going to bed with res cogitans
and therefore inflating geating ready
to put on dream armour and

become the Id...
66:30
PSG 1 : ARS 0
agg 2 - 0
and the t.v. is super down low
and grandma i'm only passing
through this couldron of witchy spells
i predicted an Irishman or a Frenchman
to be the next pope
i'm also covering the Election of the Pope
like i am youir fight against Islam
if there is Islam in England
then there is also Catholicism in England
and we are over a BILLION strong
let me flex my muscles
at the University of Warsaw

68:10 a missed pentalty by PSG
not a Spanish
not Americas
let Christianity return to Europe
where it was defended
please let it return to mediate
the English with the Norsemen and translate
to the Low Germans...
that became English
the SWABS and CWIK... some picture
i forgot to take when
walking thinking i'd memorising it
but there's also the Election of the Polish President
and i think i'm kinda patrtiotic in a way
i think the Pope died
when i came back to Poland
or no: that would be nice
but like a Catholic rat i scuttled back
and the media can be protestant
and Anglophile or whatever
the Universal B;lah blah
i'm the SHAMAN of the residence so many drunks
walked through these walls i sometimes
do wonder how my grandmother
streuggled through it
and she says it like a nun swearing
but today i was making custard
with my wife and daughter over the phone...

72:12

PSG 2 - ARsenral 0

lost on agg

****! i missed a gole! **** ****! too busy
thinking about god and nothing
and id est
cf.
est id ego?

            loot the womb come out empty
no brothers
no sisters
thinks his grandmother is a serial killer
or maybe High Priest
like the Mother in Dune
some temporal shift wavey lines
i mean a French Pope
a Pope **** Pope French
i've been biting my nails and
Ądam EwĘ
  
   tym kolem zamnkne i jak niby zapomne
to powiem z kresk'

   tam tak zastomne
zapowiem
pan zastepow
pan kazdy swej mowy
i tym diarkytyka
pan nad polaka: 'yd
no znaczy: 'yd:               Er                     Zet...


77:12
PSG 2 - Arsenal 1

     Ż i tak od litery do litery a' do Sokratesa:
i tak jakim tam tam
innym to Grek
i nie inny Pan s'owem
to te pierw szkice
a nie 'kice///

             tak bzu bzu bzu
i ten 'yd           i Egipt
i gYpt

i do remember quiet vividly that when i was in Russia
i was never allowed to turn on
the television to be fed state propaganda:
no chicken no cluck no breadcrumbs from the Tsar's
leftover table...
now... i find myself unable to consecrate thinking
with not thinking:
there's this neo-Cartesian impasse
when it comes to juggling
the trinity of the things that:
think, extend and are nothing...
              i like my calm neo-Cartesian model:
some assurance from mathematics and its
strict abidance to geometry... blah blah...
to the squint and octopus eyed ones nothing
more than a lazily attached Q to an A...
that whole Hebrew borrowed immigrant schtick
that seems exhausted in H'America...
like Hyat! Attention! Seigl! Achtung! Achtung!
words like custardo-******* pie-oh! yong-tung!
mmmiasma mmmiasma
the reality of the stiletto and the surrealism
of the elephant...
    how Debussy is someone who gave
piano a rhythm and melody
while there is no rhythm or melody in Chopin:
not shoe shoe my red wrinkling toe makes
gestures for imitating mouth
i said: CHOP a PIN
i didn't SHOE or otherwise...
i didn't say LIST i said LISHT...
why must it be so hard, otherwise: this otherwise
being now
just enough bread and ***** to
give enough creases to the bedsheets
of the demons wearing them
and my how tiny New York (Manhattan alone)
seems
i didn't see much of the "other" areas...
but in this little town where i currently
reside who knows how big anything is
or how anything small:
but a crusty bun with pumpkin seeds
and enough butter
and if my wife keeps reminding me that
she's 18 years older i
just don't know how that will make sense
but for all her ordained prowess to feel
so empowered
she's throwing at me these stones from the Vatican
and Mecca
and i'm not the one to be
a lunatic gesticulating praises in the middle
of the day when other sensible people
are in the marketplace selling vegetables
and spewing Roman squat...
but this Cartesian model... to fathom egoism
and egoism's retraction within the confines
of the RES VANUS was
always going to be missing when presented with
the grand God and Cogito
or... otherwise...
from the res cogitans and the res extensa
because even my sensible well adept godmother:
doctor etc. etc. might ask a question
while i was falling asleep:
because i wasn't
for her to scribble some forms
and that whole scenario played out
so broken: like a scrutiny of a paraphrase:
but so alone within the demands of glue and eyes
before the television
i fall asleep
to a searching screech and by due...
i'm not here to relax i'm here to learn to drive
an elephant after being given no allowance
to drive a bicycle after already walking...
after being allowed to pay the fair for a bus...
so... talk to monkey explore the parrot's circus act
but even modern pop is so modern i
tend to opt out than to pop us
as receiving the congested messages
of scheme...

because i listen to music so infrequently, now - these days,
if i am attempting to scribble something or, other,
it takes great and at the same time so diligence
as to what i will choose to feed my hearing...
to preserve the purpose
or to at least keep a sense of sanity: and face:
i opt for something classical
and within that: i can crawl into the ***** of prose
and and... a poetic... journalistic cascade of
free-form: whereby i am not dictated by obligations
of whatever it is that is already spared
by dictates of ink and paper:
a break into prison planet: as Copernicus-Nostradamus
could have said about the advent of the internet:
by no nobility by the same "gentry":
it's only "if" and "now" that i have a "wife"
and by "wife" i implore the distinction between
obligation and the freefall before death
this insinuated demand of her's to spare her
the gruel and details and some of being left
stranded on a desert island...
some music soothing... almost all that is necessary
and not like genuflecting: some parody of faith
she tries to translate into telepathy...
i roll another cigarette in secret and i'm
alone on purpose:
in that solipsistic limbo of ghosts who have just
been born into a cabaret of voyeurism
that nothing like a stand-up comedian in
the English-speaking-world can match...
such a flicker of dust or ambiance
of semblance with the moon...
Satie's Gnossiennes are not the competition
between Liszt and Chopin and
hey **! hey presto! the demand for maestro and
the garden gnomes to sing in rhapsody...
i can't pick up the Satanic Verses and think
they are worth the cut of mustard
when that's the mustard eaten after
a dinner by the dollop and spoonful to appease more
appetite...
i think i will make my bed
and call it nighty-night before 10pm comes...
and i will know as much of me as i know as much
of me now
because even if i were to read a poem
ugly beautiful meaningful or elsewhere
my wife would still think me funnier than funny
with my Catholic gesticulation:
but i of no faith still go to the necropolis and light
a candle a at the grave of my family long gone
not out of some diligence:
without question... without ask...
i do so because in that instance i am not
reprimanded for lack or loss of belief:
i just find a mirror and myself in it
and i don't ask...
why... on earth in hell or heaven above
ask such a pointless question that serves
an answer for a sieve without the curios movement
of water...
as such... Darwinism and ontology:
and since when man... categorized as animal
behold... this mammal of equal parring with ape
and lion...
decided to question his ontology further
and became accustomed to the ontology
of ants and of social order?
when will we have ourselves for ourselves
and leave the ants to the ants for the sake of ants
but instead
these ontological chimeras of apes dressed in
exoskeletons and elsewhere:
so i was stressed so this theorizing the testing of
my aptitude on the road worth of:
i hope the worth of a tank and not being a pedestrian
of a cyclist involves so much ******* nuances
but that's not the point:
Satie is playing and i'm typing
but i can see my wife laughing:
oh ha ha! why go to the necropolis and light
a candle at a grave...
so... erm... so?       so i can have a moment
with my own mortal self?
i recently lit a candle at the gravestone of my
father's grandparents
of whom i have no memory of...
so i rolled a cigarette and drank 200ml of *****
like a typical Gypsy...
and that's in Poland so a place that used to be
a haven for gypsies and Jews before the advent
of the Hippies in Western Europe and America...
yet even tonight...
i think i need more Debussy than Satie...
i went on my night round and when grandma
asked i bought some ice-cream and some
pork meat: whole cut! whole cut she said...
well... i looked at the prices...
if i were to buy prepped mince pork rather than
own a mincer and bought a whole piece whole:
i'd be buying 3x the price...
obviously i bought some *****...
because memories started flooding in
and i had a headache and i thought white magic medicine
of the paracetamol wasn't enough...
at least alcohol helps you to relax
when you are stressed...
given enough fresh air and the space between other
people in a KURVIDOWEK like the town
i currently occupy:
it's both headache medicine and a sedative...
and if you quest for not turning on the television
after a certain hour:
you almost get a sense of how Norwegian literary hermits
live with all their Noble prizes and intuitions...

the breaking into the enso...
that the Cartesian model missed...
that there is the res cogitans
and that subsequently there's the res extensa...
sure...
but where does egoism and solipsism
the inflation conjure itself like a Kantian res per se
arise from?
surely from the res vanus: the empty thing...
countless times i could: COULD have been
told by jubilant "Christians" that
Catholicism is an understood plague
equivalent to that of Ishmael:
but by now it's all economics and the cheapest
labor
and why western women feel disinclined to
promulgate the species
because our curiosity has been satiated
and it only takes the fringes to get some hair
and some comb over... politico juice...
but that's not enough:
drop a centipede into a glass reservoir of
crawling stampedes of cockroaches
and... some ontological revelation?
but as man or monkey and why
would a monkey think itself not a monkey
while man constantly thinks himself not a man
but somehow all the other proponents of bio-mechanization?
like me lighting a candle before a grave is
somehow a translucent travesty for the Christian
belief of: by the word said by the deed exacted...
Islam doesn't bother me...
it doesn't even fascinate me...
it's just some miraculous *****-juice of verbiage
that learned akin to AI to build brick-on-brick...
nothing more...
the quest for late 19th century Paris
being established
as was:
perhaps reminiscent of the Medieval period
time of Islam were homosexuality was rife
because... the harems were without ******-Toys...
perhaps...
why should i care: is that pride talking
or my ambivalence toward nothing?
after all... if my egoism is to be critised:
by the extended thing i implore my surroundings to
give me vector:
but without an external thing:
my res cogitans structure becomes schizoid:
lucky me for also being bilingual!
but imagine me not being so fortunate!
imagine me when in the pit of the res vanus
with a res cogitans unable to escape!
because without a genuine world
and a genuine identity that is what happens
to these poor unsold lots of man
and their tribulations...

a war is happening
and
there's being
and war is a happening
and an inclusion
and ex-
  this little London
this my May by month
in Poland
and there are people
in my life i love

i loved
but now
Danka
Alex
Miroslav
Eve
Helen
Edie
REyla
REyla
Reyla thank
you thank me less
forget you
but i can't leave you alone
idiot
when in includced....
SPELL SPELL SPEEL
my my
i think i said
i'm the shoe missing
male...
for a my my
precious
nmy preciouys
what's that... my imnploded ***
manipulatr
my fairy tale
godmother
i think of a ******* driving license
and she things of a carriage
of a pumpkin and a glass slipper!
for ****'s sake!

not pop
universal
concept
1 + vq1 = 2>
1 + 1 = 3....

i "think:"
****
project
maybe little
me too
christ--******
and jesus-aloph
no o no o no no o no
*******
let's go ***
but the fucjk am
i to tow Seattle?!

she reads my ppetry... great....
now she solving my gpal
wearing goldpoasts
in the next weekend in the priestly
the moon the tide
the sun and the bask
dealing with tge qydratuc qyoeuebt
spelling
see coloud
proper...
\  
    
            see the prp
colour uzzle in hummiung
based first degree\

           a cvzt
a czt czy ja nie pierw
i po tym Polski
i po tym Zya
af pytam
i af af af
te puara: teh pjoral=
tym koty gna(s)

kto o sen pyt i grot!
PYT i GROT
[plski....}

?                              gp





__/                         d!

take time,
invest in it:
like you might
in stock

i believe money
originates in the
demonic-techno-ontological
being of DEI-MON...
who's father is lost
playing video
games in absence
within the realm of
reincarnation
as much as the blame
goes onto Europe
via Russia
i think the crisis is felt
unvirsally
across Asia and Europe

my pet project
i've been looking
i've been looking
for Satan and Loki
but Satan is a title
bestowed upon Men
in this Anti-Catholicism of
denegrating Angels to Sainthood:
a Saint Michael
and a Martin Luther King St.
not Jr
but St
like Saint Street
in New York
i don't know
i was in \New York
i walked through it
like a plough-ghost
i was asking for spare change
of the soul that comes to me...
my t.v. is the imitation
of Icon
in Iconography there's no ******
****** explored religiosity and
the politics
but not the art of painting icons
and look at the Black MAdonna in light
now look at me...
say: acha! ah! ah! sneeze!
this wonderdrome of paved light
and my footsteps echo
i am alone in the barren memory grave...
let those i know
not make me switch up on all
the available t8.v5
channels... i'm getting a headache
i just realised before
going to sleep:
we speak a speak of a la nguage
luggage...
******* luggage:
embryo and the woman's ego...
get a chicken:
prized: bonus... an egg...
and i had to walk the night of the soul
i walked the night of the soul
as i walked the day of mind
in this night and in this cold
oi thiol my grandmother is afraid of me
io think thinks i am older
in my grandmother
and here
body
there
mind
i think of my father
when he said
youi should phlosophy books
in old age:
but what i wouldn't with such SCARAB OF MIND
and apparently so much Police...
if iu were biorn a translator...\
politics of love from those living
in the Necropolis
like good catholic lighted...
and nsaid to whispers
in the sight of hearing died
and children stopped singing
and the men started talking
and when it would be known that
i wal;ked a oath of god
for the Path... to be revelled road
not the egpism of the solip[sism
god reminds
that he doesn't walk alone
god walks around
but god does not walk alone
he is la allah lah
i walk alone and this crux
like imagine Jesus stranded on
New York Christ-Icon
let us imagine christ-icon
the res extensa
and jesus the res cogitans
now let us think for
a while
concerning
humanity's quest for Messiah:
the God Temporary...
peopl;e are asking for
a Temporary God:
autocratic born
from the sort
like Satan King Blessed Country
my MYthical Poland
En gland is an Airport
i'mn going places:
i'm going Kauai...

         iagine being 72
and reading philosophy for the first
time...now imagine:
i spared my youth in philosophy books
and 30s became practuce gtround
on testing human vaginas
on male tarots and imbecile ego
projectiles....

grease my leather
tank in
my iron grease
i say

STANISLAV IGNATIOUS WITKIEWICZ...
A Farewell to Autumn
i am a bibliophile
\too
i think
      
      do i ; look OO l l l
lk i was ghi
thinking of Greece
and bPolish girl wants
a Greek boy
but can't recognise it from out:

not one has translated that book
into English
how about
i know
who christ is
anbd who jesus
isn't...

    ket us begin.. HIERLL

le clerc
this untidy ghost
this untidy ghost
serves a master halves
no half
no glutton
from mirror-narcissus
apostheys-hammer...

i need Greeks...
to question by the testimony of qyarters
the following...

the book the idol
and the chirrup
don't worry:
fame is not memory
fame fades quicker than
memory...
let you leave
memory in the few
than fame in the many

wife said
let you leave
memory in the few
than fame in the many!

yes.... that'snme:

i'mnthe adamant figure
Welsh?!
Ri?!
SH?
SCOOT!?
i bask in this Island
is bigger than London
no bigger than

inbce i would be bought for night shifts
and at times i would get them for free
and i would see
the Cartesian-Heidegger model
that Heidegger proposed the revived
version of the res extensa
with his dasein

i was going to fall asleep but
today i felt like a child
in my grandmother's house
and under the matriarch
i became a restless child
and i need my tobacco ADHHD
anti...
whatever you want to call it...
and i went shopping and bought
pasta
she asked for pickled things
and some lemon juice
but she didn't mention wanting
a soft drink
but i bought some PEPSI
anyway and some bread
anyway....
and i soft cheese and canned tomatoes
and pasta
and i'm going to make a creamy
tomato pasta no meat
i might add some lentils on the sly to thicken
the sauce up
but that's what truly keeps me sober
sane and insomniac at times
there-being is
the equivalent of extended-thing...
i see Heidegger in Descartes:
why can't you?

at my grandmother's parlour
in Ostroiwiec Swietokrzyski
im becoming a Pope John Paul II
globe-trotter
i'm in poland
and English is so far away
i saw the four Hindu Horsemen of the Apocalypse
Today
in the countrysides of Poland
and
actually smuggled some Mary and Juan
into Poland:
self-prescribed
in my grandmother's parlour
i am sitting by a table
in england
i'm hunched over
my bed
the wrong
now the evolved man spoke
and man spoke
and in this bread and wine
land
a land flowing from bread and wine
bread from the sky
and wine in the seas
and rivers
and no milk and honey
the second promise
and by the Jews second
i will bring you to the land
of bread and wine
to realize the second circle of heaven
for hell matched heaven
on the schematics...
i feel like
jack nicholson in:
as good as it gets
i don't need money
i see incremental exponential of change
i see my life
and how there might be a conflict....
imagine experiencing what
you experienced
NOT
in the realm of bilingualism
and that is the third circle of heaven
the bilinguals
the truth-truth sayers
the spaceship and who walks among you
the philosophy of the pedestrian
and the cyclist
before i get into the tank
and plough plough plow through as many
people as i can
fall asleep with the sliding kippah
and Hanguel: only dominant in the late
20th century...
freed from Japan:
the Korean minding of losing the Kanji:
the Asian ideograms...
are there only four to compete with the
Taetragrammaton...
bring your own self and troubles
before the altar of death
and bones
and how much is 35cl of *****
when you brought some medicine
and it's the melancholy of the self-reminiscent-"self"
like puberty blockers
and there was so imagery around the place
and you did see the Christian-West Question
not the Christian-African
or the Christian-Asia came around
clearly the Anglo-Christian project failed...
the whole that is England
and America
and Russia also failed and Rus-Orthographic-
Culture-Tourism-Christ-anaema...

       over the phone
she only just found out
that i have a surrogate daughter
and i'm seemingly
shortcrust
when i bring these words
and upon the altar
of geography
Israel the land of milk and honey
while God of the Christians:
said...
come to Poland to the land
of bread and wine
and will show you the death of israel
in the dust of the holocaust
and i will show you the ashes being
spewed forth on the living reality
geographic
if Israel is the First
State
then Poland is the Second
State
and the Estate: as far as we know:
is the Lingua Freeze-Tease....
sorry story of my family's life story
thus told...
maybe i should read
Jame Joyce in Polish
i think i should my grandmother taught
me to love books
and i have am
having de mons summon the count
and account....
take the detail there can't be a being
of two mouths and one eye!
there can't be a DAJJAL ONE  AND
ONLY
how ALLAH wed himself
to themselves
the Evolution of Allah
from Iblis to the Dajjal...
Allah: Dajjal...
summon the 1 + 1 = 2 words
say something pictorial:
let the sound venerate vibration
and that encoded is tomb
arrived at through closure
it is not megalomania
or self-departing
this is and shouldn't ask....
           crying all through the train
all 2h of it
i don't know more comfortable
*** first or feet down.

the fear of spiders
or...
the fear
of... over-chewing
cashew nuts
or
fighting against
cov ert
epilepsy..

       the fear of spider
or the fear of seizures...
and i
     Y;')

      i'll ask
maybe someone might know
and i mnight know
and everyone might know
but not everyone is allowed
or being
in the permitteed
realm
allowed to know

sterssor fat: intake
chef:
best chapati's
say goodbye
hannibal lecter
the subjective-objective
hirurg:
the sculptur
aor
of urgency...
nuts..
salted? or sugar riddled:
fat *** knows my patterns
she want to tow god and call him
the model christ
because that was the only one
surrogate
and abortion miracle child
ever in history:
so we go on and say:
how rare1 rare rare rare!
there's a deep crising from the available
mustard:
of man alone
to the mayo of a woman being with man
and the man writing so...
for the overall shift numbers:
yes, an improvement
and who wants to be in a shell
when the entire Toitanic sinks and history
is square:
non-linear moving with foiur directions
yet in harmony of marriage
with two H's wed:
how Y wed to W
and from Adam came Eve
we did not by deed and not n'see it?
i saw it:
in dying... and the lost of loans and i owe you\
/?/

the quest for the doing
is done
now it the trans-generational
above
trans-gender like Satan is
to *** like Christ
is to Age...
imagine Christ as Age
and Satan as ***
and never ascribe the names
Jesus and Nazareth
now filter
through all that is worshipped
in the history of man
then find the individual
in the history of a history
then break the ibn
individual once more
then learn how Special New York
is
and London is too flat
and no aim
of the bliss the Osmosis
like a breeze from MAnchester
from the north of England
i think it's
DES ROCS - never ending moment
i trihnk my poetry needs this it it
i'd it it:
i think i'm moving porecvelain from
Liverpool through to Southend...
i think my wife
thinks i work for the MAFIA DEUS
i think my wife
thinks i work for the mafia of god...
i don't trust thse trustworthy people and my daughters
and don't do an AMASEUS
but anon:
ha ha... oh heez i jeez
i remember summoning my TOTEM
FOX
and i know all that... i think: i think that i am...
grammar up garden not sand and pyres
and pyraminds
from the garden asking
Jew
my proportionate number
asking...

                   the solitude and the timing of
punctuation;
thus the emerging tribe of solitutdes...
not the chosen tribe
the people a nation
you are mistaken
we are the tribe of the solitudes
and the thrists of the mysteries of the first myseries..
i will give you: woman:
the weapons:
but i will not wage your war...
i will be more Hephaestus
than
Mars...
i will ask GHera
Hera: more than Christ:
in a marriage:
i will ask the Polytheistic DEities
and even my daughter says
she says stop being so
Christian and Alt-Punk...
the religion hides in the open
from the sleeping ****** and Communism
of a people of Russia
and the Former Mongolian Empire...
because so many peopl e are
rigid and fridgit... and
i can't stop shaking...

how little time
but thank god
i can think these thoughts
and then
later struggle like
King David before
the Pslams
and leave only "holy books"
behind
and i saw myself in fire
before the water
on a beach
and i was eyeing a mountain to
climb
in my harvest i counted
the waters
from heaven rain on the earth
and give us
rivers
and lakes
and i worked geology from stone
and ice
comes god **** big wig
me...
"''"
and the '""'
sound the difference:
Iouses and luciferous are coming home
i am returning from the Islands
of Hawaii
from England
to Poland
and i asked the Polynesians!
i asked them!
rid me of western individuation
phiolosophy
and the End Result
the Atomized Man
EUROPE AWAKE!
EUROPE AWAKE!

EUROPREWAKENBEWOE!WOKE!

fake born
i have an accent
i am a foreigner
but these sons are mine
i loved
the English Youth
and i gave them black clad bicycle gang
membership
and i saw them cycling down
ny street
even my father
i think of god closest
my father my mother and god
the distant youth
oh rhyme when i think of you
how immortal the flame of the shield
the immortal flame of
the mediocre field injenction jive
and jibe...
jibe..the minds are at work to get
the jyst
i am writing in English
yety Pope
YETI POPE
DEVILs WORSHIP
it's a Miltonian Democracy...
watch **** play guitar
get a milk and mIFl...

  because i have spaceship ***
gets me ***** and egos
into the stars
i'm actually using
****
to find me *******
i am aiming
******* is whiskley
is good...

the bgrvity of one the gravity
of one
the Himalayyaans and Ann Anne please
i'm a married man
and labour comes
free market
i open a book of poetry
like a priest opens a book of the bible
i am warrior
i am priest
i am the first and last responder
Nottingham Forest
Biblo ******* Baggins
the Prodigy
Hiblo Gillbtr
Hillbruh
like pianiast
****-Israel
not Christian-

.......................
..........................
.............­.......................

long long pause...
we talking
Hiedegger
bishop cardinal
CARDINAL
and (pope_

like sign language i think
pause...
   pause
the flies are gathering
and the blue bees and
the indececie
in de'en CCs...

          SMOCZEK
ja
WIDZE...
to tonna polskiego
kto ja trwam i zmacvh
in ten chwyt w pravo:
O tem: tan tan tan-tan-tan
tantantan  000100010001
pytam:

nie o slowo:
wskazufka:
numer: err err

pytam BINARY
PYRAMID
THAMES IS EYE
of ALEXADRIA
vowels are 1
consonnants are 0
there are more of them O
0

()
[]
{}

i pray there's hope
no from one puddle of the world
like London
but from poor Poland...
a Pope
a learning prospect of the the Late Roman
Empire...
i am the pope of the Navigation and
the Dead End people of
this world without
Nation
or skin beyond deep
orange came from pink
dust and protest
i will see
the driving in living
and given so much of life
learn to ride a horse
HUSAR do DOMU
HUSSARJA DO DOMU
ZAWRACA....
ku temu domu ja wracam...
za i wy wy wy
jak tak blisko Arab stoji
i ten kwota(,)
pleaese let us pedantic i told you
colt
stay away from my girl
i wonder
she asks me
i know my shadow
and your *** is spaceship
believe me girl
i am loving you i'm at the cruxres-vegna...
VEGNA-Road...
moim: to polskim
to znad Landu... i to powtarzam:
tego blosko:
bosko:
i tego z siebie dam
dam wam znac
za EZTDEM...
RZY consta Z(.,') YDA....

    pokwitewanie...

  pok kwi t'eh o'h w'annnia...

desert and the dessert of Rome
the myth of Greece
and Democracy...
i see Rome confiscated by both
Greece and Islam
Greece is already under Islam!!
Greek is imbued with the Love of Islam...
Greeks have
abandoned Christianity
when
they listened
to the 1 + 1 = 2
\if
if/

    here you are: and i am: black
and priest...
the English can be the last civilizational srtate
of being
and you can be excused running
naked
i wonder
the poets and the priest
who youi want c.c.t.v. from god
with the priests and poets
and i wonder
how the poet-philosopher
poet phiolsoopher priest
anfd she
is
poet prostititute
tutti frutti
mother
maiden
not another P or Ps or P...

oh right...
i'm a winner because in ****
i bandaged
the right *** right
and i'm hearing the aid
LESBIAJBANJO
BANJOLEZZBOHWOH...

i'm getting the grit of
the [personal with
the grit infused:
there's the locality:
a: locality:
there are other funeral dewvices..
the article beyond the
definite and indefinite article
the plural
article and the possessive article
and i will not do this job
on hte page,
nail... and the cursed lips
i aseked wind and Barking *******...
invitation to do your work
cherish is:
long before
there's a time of keeping signifying memories
like impassable objects:
a res cogitans can't pass through the res
but a res extensa can
res extensa is telepathic and
myopic and reptile:
in ape in waiting...

the suits descended
and i was
the [arty boy active
i think
the romance
with Thailand
and the lady boys
i think the *****
are about to choose
the next Pope
i think the *****
are.
how many times
does it sweast a donkey
until it qualifies
as a racehorse?
just let me know
it\s like
green is before
amber...
not red amber
i think forgot
got my memory wing wok wonder
i i chill max
i chase each outs
and put out pout...

the suits descended
and i was counting
the number of toes
in my heels
and Chi-Achilles...
i think we settled the man-child
weight\outcry

          these priests
are not welcome
but those trenmbling under the *******
and i told them
that there's both an evil  and good
balance to having ***
and there is partentage
of the parternship
of which the holy ghost is shared
by both nmen anbd women
to give birth to either Abraham the Patriarch
or Khadhirah: the Isaac the Patriach
but her the Literate
my feminism is my Islam
i have seen
too many wives
and plenty of woos..
woe upon woe
until there but 3 woes...

escape the throws
of circumcision:
seems pretty basic
have these make
advent to and froh with
FROH
like THROTH...
the peacock of spelling..

aerospace the birds
in my head
and in between my twins
my ears
and eyes
but the perfume
so ****** don't be snogging sorrows
GG GG RR
arrows?!
LOOSE!
arrows?!
LOOSE!
WAR!
EDUCATION

wembley, 26th and 27th of april 2025
will be memorable 2 days
of my life
i know
i also don't know why
but i knows i and knowing knows knowing
and knowledge is
a bit likt a ledge of history
i came across the intellectual Satan
and the intellectual Satan is still not the Intellectual
Christ
i wonder about the books he didn't write
but instead read
and
i woke this morning and i didn't
have the shakes of the hands
and i worked today
i took it seriously
and people took my seriously
and even i think
took myself serious
and i was about at work doing
the basic security function
and everyone was so compliant
but there i saw myself
being ordained with the Crown
of the Anti-Law...
the lawlessness is my gift unto the world
while Christ broke of the Laws
of the Narrative...
$6.20 bottle of *****
of liquid honey
and if i were to paint at easier
paint Kauai on astarry night
i still think if should become a painter
and leave the poet with
the philosopher
i think i should begin with painting
the living space
your mocha mocca swizz late...
or whatever you want to call it
if i had all the fountains in this world
under Wembley
the national treasure of architecture
because Rome is Anti-Church
and the Pope has not been chosen
yet
and i'm looking looking
because Big Brother spoke to the denominations
of the Christian World where
the Protestant Man Set Foot
where Catholics we branded fools
in the Mines of South America
and the Pacific Rim
i call the Pacific Rim the ancient
geography of this world...
i include the Pacific Rim South America
and the extent of Polynesia...
Quorus will not wake me at 4:30am
and i have a child devil of a cat
and i also thin k
i think have a wife and a stepdaughter
upon walking into the door
i am to tell my demented grandmother
the story my mother and Ilona
tell themselves
if i were a lie: i'd be many a lie:
i would summon all the lies
before the one truth
because as much as there might be an Original Sin
you must bow before me
when i usher in the words: Original Lie...
tell me an original lie and i will
show you for all the *******
there is no lie... bigger than the ORiginal Sin
which is like Judaism in Christianity
to Hell and Save the Jews
i tell you Original Sin is the Judaism aspect
of Christianity not purged
certainly:
ISLAM SHLUT UP!
just working with a lot of Hindus and i think
of the Pacific Rim i think of the world
turned upside down...
looking at the Delta of the Thames
like i might forward to Alexandria and backwards
to Mecca
i will show my lovely *** i will
i will cage a Sri Lankan
i will rummage in the garbage
i will wash a can of coca cola in the bathroom
i don't i will be very human
and wise and wiser no above all a Dog
and i thought to greater leisure
but this intellectual far-fetcher is a disco when
i heard those Polynesians talking between the continents
to the other islanders
and i have to admit the English are
drunk with Rome
with civilization the historians call it the Afghanistan
of the Ancient World
i like thinking of England as the Roman Empire
Afghanistan of the Ancient World
even before the Accents:
Rome had to be overcome and the Germans
invading:
took the trouble of subjecting Afghanistan...
of the Ancient World: England...
it is only with the Germanic tribes invading
were the Celts finally banished to their strongholds
of gods and intellects...
       cooking cauliflower also stinks
like pushing out **** in roaches... i think we
could have an understanding
i was pitchside for the Palace Games
and pitch i smoked an umbrella and drank some pickling juice
then i drew an octopus while thinking
of my brain relaxing among sponges
and in the quick brief
western individualism has gone as far
as the atomized man allows
because the logical next step of western
quetion and quest for individualization:
nations, civilization...
comes the Atomized Man
the man who blew himself up...
now i see woman being quizzical in their own
retrospect because
i hit a nerve and regardless what comes
later
i see already the olive and the tan
and besides the silicon in *******
and lips...
are those fake camel lashes...
and they don't really work in the Harem of Narcissus
where the elders go
with Bible and Gloryhole confessional
booths
with **** and **** rather than
dog-tongue and dog-ear!

             because if i weren't to walk onto the Mass
being Given
under the Olympic Steps
where those Samoans came first
and then on Liverpool St outside
the station the "western" equivalent
of songs played no heart
but the eyesight of techno progress
i see you dancing in tombs
of individualism
and this lack of critical ego
that i too muddle with self- prefixation
of those things in the res extensa of
my own res cogitans that requires
the res cogito more than cogito per se
or god
because my mission is to last for 90 years
and find joy in what passes
us
and becomes a memory of forgetting
and the twins Memory and Forget

because if Memory is brother to Dreams
then the two are muddled
and we forgot all wong to be right and wrong
and that's why dream settle the distance
via there-being: in time
regardless of the proper
coordinate posit:
but ***** wrong there: even that...

and if by Forget we leave black holes in our consciousness
to quickly abstract universal abstracts
to concrete examples
abstract universals
a priori universals
i believe there exist 5 dimenions
of understanding a shared
eloquence of man...

Stanley and Stan's Intellectual Bias:
because i thought:
there is no Original Lie
as much as there is Original Sin
in the origin of Christianity being
rooted in Judaism
or at least blaming Judaism
for the Lips Lipstick and *******
but not all circumcised
men reflect
strong physique...
if we circumcised men
for the purpose of breeding Gladiators
but what is the purpose of circumciusing men
if not breeding them for one purpose:
if you were to circumcise men...
you would be ensuring a solider class
not a priestly class of people
circumcicision would only be required
of soldiers
who: themselves willing
would absail from the functioning vantage point
of intellectual *******
i cannot be circumcised...
but what if circumcision was reserved
for special concerns
requiring men
to be wed to war
and no poetry about war
but the realities of a war that might happen:
already planning ahead
smoke and mirrors
smoke and mirrors
yes, i told one roofer:
when the invasion of IRAQ
happened
and Weapons of Mass Destruction
happened
and that was smoke and mirrors...
i think i was getting a leg up
but i was also myself
and most beyond sober..

and for a love of humanity
this ordeal was
summoned
with a cat of clay and smiling
with a fox quif
i count CinQ... up to five...
this opportunistic pedestrian
let us be
cages so... and so together
met.

through these pangs of doubt and shame:
how else could i stomach my self
with the impeding reflex of myself
being stripped of governing labour of reason
to scuttle like a nhmmkiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii


do zrozumienie
nie
do
zabawiazania liczem
przeszych
is przez
to nigdy
w parku
samej na sam
i noca
ja krew tlo
i plynie plynnosc
i zapomniec oh tak
tak dla wydogy
tego ojczystego polskiego
z
wykrzyknikiem: i jem to od:
Odra
slyn i komfit
tego co trude-01-****-
PROSTA ****

to: ISKRA
nadaje sie zyc...
Rzeka: plyn: substancja
\orgia<

zmysly mylne:
i to tez trop
a ja mysle
ten kim kto
kot jazni
kto pyta...
a ten kto snem prowadzi
]i coto

i oco
ja
nie pytam rzecz
i owoc
tej basni w-ja
ten nie-ja
tym absolutnym dojsc
is dawac pojenie o
zro
i zum
i imeniem
sto razy to raz pierwszty ta tle
ubogodzin zykow
a przezbrygadzistow...

i sto lat zapuzno... nio nio...
i tylko Zyd
poza Zydem
i Polak z Polakiem
oko w oko
wzamian zza oko za oko..
za tym jedno On
Okiem gna...

to twarde i owszem
to jedno latwe
to drugie
trudne
i po nam przy na krzyz
a potem siekam
zorem i co to znam

a potem siekacz siekaniem
sie prze wal....
i miot...

and like R yes
yes i did forget ti eat
tio tea eat
to eat i forgot to eat
thinking about God
and my native tongue
and of the heritage of men
and this place lost
when talking to god...


in the shins and above
   a comma
below the E and an apostrophe above the Z...
WZZ
EZZIE
EASY
wow long overdue theft of turf
becoz bonzo literature
is like Dada and GOnzo....
Bonzo Literature... espcapism sold
and not told... of...

tym ja Polak tym ten ty
kto i ja nie,
tak pyta i gniew
i Pana Boga Laska...
ten kto of pamiec nad
mysl chce-pyta na zwolen...

ubicumque ambulo, ibi cogito

wo ich gehe, da denke ich

donde camino, ahi pienso..

where: i walk: i think:
and where i think:
i destroy:
because that is my
nature
and i do not say
i am god
i think human thoughts
because as mortal
i come and as immortal i leave
i am Satan i am the child
in man
i am not the crucified mensch
i am Russia i am Greenland...
i am New Alaska
i wonder when Russia sold Alaska
will Europe sell Greenland
wow a practice of separatist
i am invoked as simply citizen
in the history of time
there is a history of space
and there's a hbistory of time
=and there's hisotriology
and Hiedegger... and some...
like some detour:
you... magician:
you: profound most All Evil Father...
Surrogate All Evil Father...
I... summon me I
owe and thou
curse: you 2..
and tow...
  the death summon my dying horse
my lost bicycle...
my O spiral and my bedding
on little loan
and bemoan
this little artefact
artificial : too:

vvvvvv   spell binding terror
of splendour: animate: gone sour...
the Popes of the Speaking LAtin
and therefore the lost causality because
she feels illiterate
and

sleepless in Kyiv
and i think still
somewhat a part of Poland
before Russia thought things over
and i wonder about Christ
and the Resurrection
and i think of Poland and i think of the Popes
and if South America mywife gave me
my wife
then can i show h3r what her husbands
looks like i dont want to be correct
but i'm indicating
and Russia is in mode: hybrid:
this is still the Cold War with
a Cold Russia:
this is still not the Event of a Warm Russia
this is not the Event of the Armageddon
bycause of the Advent of the Many Apocalypses:
before the liberalism of the modern
advent of the Swede
the Slav came in-between the surrogacy
of the german for the Asian and African
and there was simply no need to concern
one and self
with time month minute
or an hour:
our: most in need...
just so many pitiful woes and prayers unison
that the omni-
might care for the petty-
and me thinks i am a shaman
in a battle and i am giving motivation to the limbs
i will see chopped off
and i am priest and i am a billion catholics
against a billion Muslims:
i am might against might
i am also questioning the reawakening of the Mongol
i wonder who will quest there for thirst
i wonder where was christianity and islam competing
for the northern men
and the slavic qrue...

why did the Postal Service Islam
was sow so slough so slow oh so slow
to reach a region almost
forever pagan
why did Islam forget Lithuania
why does a Lithuanian girl
curse a ******: you ****** us over...
oh right...
so now...
laughing is what? not remedy to quest beyond
your paranoia...

and so much history and so much
irrelevant
just now
just being
and
now
now and
and now
i just need
nothing
god and picture
and skeleton and
um now
i think now...

because Ukraine is so close
and these ices and cubes
and talk of enigma colours
and men having
to pretend to be in the Harems of Solomon...
the Harems of Solomon...
not the Mines.. the Harems of... said:
king.

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3369599/snickers-on-a-hill/

and this monotheism
is like
tribe to my thinking
i think because
i might be alive
or just might be dying...
hmm? i only hum
with ahmmm because
i wonder:
the dies a thought or thus
idle hunger
by tendon
to muscle assert
i que q.

      the qQHAqIbV'u

i think... maybe that's the clue
but because i'm so aone alone with you
i might just go a bit:
**** it! **** it! **** it this *******!
you Puierto Rican fuckiung
grandmother and her South American Pope
and i think she was cursing the next ****** Pope
but i was thinking the next
French or Irish friendly
**** all you want
the devil or a god
aren't looving look K K key-ing
R -keyring...
i say... Tolstoy Toast and Toast for Dostoy...
such grfitti: grift:
tetno: destroy: tail: JY
YJ IY YI
IIIY

if Y was a Roman numeral...
but Y was never a Roman Numeral...
was it?!

I, V, X, L, C, D, and M

but not Y... not Greek Gamma:
ema greka ah eta et sigma zeta...
i speak Greek letters
before i speak
Latin
i think i can be cryptic in the catacombs
there is dead body being paraded
and i do wonder...
there is neither Y or G
in the intricacies of the indecent proposal
of integers and
numbers without south-pointers:
giving: names...

this tide of misbehaves
i implore on anyone in
a shoftish short ofshore short
o'sh Dynysh
eshbitz
              esh sort... Sort... ßort:
   ßórt....
     give it some time: and i will change the R and the T
with it...
            ßóřţ            
n'est ce pas?

NASTROJ
ZOBOWIAZANY

PRIMO
DOKCH'eh!
primo muchos
muchos
elhelo ejyeah
oh yah

ja bambina
ja muchos ye ye
bezos innos
cuntos mucho mucho
eyo yo yo
like like
la la ake ake
mecho mecho
bueno bueno!

ba ba! ba ba! ba ba!ba ba

this sinking ship
this love of a princess
here's to a mother
and the love-mouth lost
to forever imitate toddler
i see you
constantly wanting me
to father o father father father father
this other: and father other and other father
father other
other father
and father father and
father the other
and self question
rome in nairobi
and whether i need christianity
or monotheism:
so complicated with jesus
jew and israel
i don't like the jesus jew and israel...
thinking of time and
conceit
and power...
i feel i am gnostic and pagan
and i don't need Jewish: circumcision
and nISlam and Ninja and the blatant
eyes of limbo libido of a bride without
limbs
and the horror i see emerge...
i see war... i sort of go ahead
with theory like i am shell shocking
the drop... like i imagine
a greater joy in this now hell...

we summon  demons
biligual
schizoid and    elsewhere
we comb and use
toothpicks and we walk
on houses with chicken legs
and styltz...
and we wed Aztecs...
     and MAyans and we wed Puerto
Ricans and we think
about Home and We think of
Siberia and Mongolia and the Wind
unsettling us from
Ancient Taiwan and it's not
like i'm coming to America
it's like i'm coming to Hawaii
and i want to feel at home
and if i'm not home there
where the **** am i?!
i must be there: first: in spirit before
i can be either father or son
i must be there in spirit
and untouched before
any father and son
impregnate this sacred limp
and sacred land
for the next burn of the Bush...
Dearest God Burning Bush
O next Moses i pity you
i have been the one tide with title
to make sure something spectsascular happens
on these isles..
but nothing is happening on them:
from the objectionable observer
like i am not Palestianian war child
playing video games
with me not sober
and this is just stylez
like north jamaica met up with the southern irish
and hey presto! ja-gui-land of next
to lost gween: and grue...
and like minding the genius
that just walked through
i think i am being intimidating
i believe in Protestant Faith Predestination
like i am being prepubescent
and alive dead born
when consripted conscripted into this army
of zombie flesh ***** look-along-alikes...

rook to queen and knight
8
ate off of eight
and two popes speaking
and jazz in the background
and pizza and fanta
and the vanity of vanities
of Solomon
these marble tombs
that wriggle with worms
of skeletons
this myopia seen
O the Great Worm of Time
and in the static
stone the smiling moon
that we see objects not moving
yet great evil pervasive
sometimes invasive
this Grot Knot...
i invite demons to dance with me
i summon demo ns
and torture them for the word
of god...
does that mean i sometimes drink
to excess
and eat like a serpent?
yes... i do... i like to snooze after eating
i own two cats and they are
dictated by other, rules...
my currency of being avoidable:
meditating
to think i might feel immoral about an afternoon:
not a day:
an afternoon and i'm on holiday from my wife
and i just laughed at her
i just laughed at her
because she forgot who she is with
and i think her female "friends"
are trying to remind her
and there have been too many
invasive
the world is
to
there's-being
in my res extensa mode
not full on spastic mr fantastic
heidegger's autism type typo Germanic thinking
like there is Germanic thinking about
thinking in cages and there's the German
and i can't associate the plural:
because i think of the language
before i think of the people
an d in so doing:
i can actually think of any language:
before i think of the people
and i can see Senegal and only French:
French black *******...
hmm...
just saying...
i am... meditating
in my trance there is war and a trance
to go with it...
a transcendence parody...

this parody of the age
as if body dictates the youth of the mind
beyond comparison the fakery
of old age when prowessing the avid mind
you tell me this is not second observational point
acting
if popes can summon actors
is this not white magic
this is white magic
when popes summon actors
to tell them their story when
still living
i call this pristine white magic
and there has been plenty of black magic
i believe the Nazis were summoned
by Black Magic
and the Globalists are summoned by White Magic...
it's harmless unicorn *****
type of magic
when a man interacts AI woman: with...
in a trance i think it's day
my state better suited for the exploits of
the night
i think i am not a painter
because i'm too lazy
id rather be a poet-philosopher than
a post-poet painter
and that's because i want to be happily married
and give my wife headaches...
i want to head-ache: my wife...
i want to head ache my wife...
which is not blou
or blow
a technician and plumber more
a wife a headache
i want to head ache my wife
until i numb her ego to womb and i wriggle in
and she becomes a pilot of a robot
of which i am foetus and alien
impregnate at least her res extensa
i can be the con res cogitans in someoneelse's
res extensa as
the res incognito: pre tense AZ...
she loves me she loves me slur
she loves me she doesn't love me slur
she loves me she loves me slur
she loves me she doesn't love me slur
i have been repenting all day
thinking i was a waste of coordination
and sunsets...
i stressed that plural: because for me
at least one more to "comb"///

oh common frigid fridge and ubs=
substance of fidgit... i wonder about my sanity
in these trenches of high human economy of
feelings:
feelings are spending threats
thoughts are spending inhibitions...
feels are spending threats
while thoughts are spending inhibitions:
the basic 1st Tenet of Economics...
the 1st Barrier Basic(s)...

and if i wasn't sleeping and about to wake up
from a night shift
what would my day look like
does it really matter what i do and don't do
during a single day
or does it matter that i laughed
and i toyed with thinking-toys
of my thinking-self and i mastered the afternoon
before the night
and it was so mild so touch-worthy that
it wouldn't or couldn't be questioned
it was ethereal and mistaken
each time i guessed at the jest...
because music broke
the mind and
then the mind broke music
and still the birds with their calls were
the other programming sound
the orientation: so spatious...
so vividly ancient in "rhyme"...

but so much of this latent sanity
and christianity is focusing upon the last resort
of the ego before the collectivism
of thinking comes and takes me away
in a history with the nail in the coffin
and the coffin being the church
and the nail and lightning bolt
i forgot that: almost: i almost forgot that...

snooze cyrcadian snooze perhaps
a cold lamb sandwitch instead
of a lamb curry
i think the cold lamb is a sign
of the apostate and the cross...

APOPHASIS
i feel less inclined to create turmoil
but i suppose everyone
is going to be proper driver
once all the primary questions
have been answered
and about 3 specific / technical ones
are answered incorrectly...

oh but the terrible has already
happened and 4 oceans apart
and sailing on my own
i try to consecrate the day with
a little of me it owns
and i have to give it up
however up to no good i find myself
to be:

this snorkel with a broken nose
and all that drowning
in dreams and without dreams...

but by now i'm way to engrossed
in my own superstitions about
witnessing Geordie Fans for Nouncattle
on the sweats of Noy 'Ork
and i cannie feel it smooth
as solid
just smoo' like liquid
not a smothie or very frapoccino
ssssand sss'sss'andy...
i can remember the glutton
who said that eating in public alone
was a tier above *******
in private...
but eating alone when alone
confined is probably not as rewarding
but as if god eating you
and in public it's not an offence
but if i were to translate *******
i'd tell you i feel dizzy and disorientated
about shooting my shot of ego into id
and thinking about the microcosm of
***** migration to the next
populated cubic metre...
of another person...

by now the only medicine is giving this
day a blessing for arriving at
the choice of words
otherwise forever outside of any
conversation: except with oneself
and sometimes these conversations must
be with a terminology of vagabonds
and selfishsly and so much so that
there is no commonality or level grounding
to experience an expressed-exchange
this self-impressions to distance one's
identity from others in this spiral
of the man without pride
and therefore forever climbing in the freefall
and what weaving of the story
in how many times
was repeated: that same story
and if only this could make sense to me
in the practical dictation
and i might see predictors of the drowning man
when the terrible has already happened
and the laughter was me behaving irresponsibly and
before me the wide awoken brute
of shove me shove gloat and goot...
this self alone preserved lobotomy of the loving ones
inquiring
and then being left to one's own devices
and struggling under the compedium of
the self preserving agent of the will:
a will and freedom counter to the god encouraging:
the-3-eseseses  tongue weaving glutton
and how i forsake myself
for the transgression
and who is so solemnly disgusted
by things moving slowly
but there is also doubled scurtiny that somehow
there's the paranoid eye
and everyone's looking at the potentially: failed biopic
and all the rest of the world
is a funfair of cope...

no one ever said that anything
remotely related to art
would be a miserable affair of the mind
whatever the weather
unlike driving a car wrestling with
summer and sunset
and all that feeling of being in communion
with everything alive
like wife and daughter
and harmoniously with the world
taking a summer holiday
a road-trip from London
to Rome to see
the Pope being re-awakened...

because there are only so many intellectual
curiosities available for the intellect
to become lazy and retract from all
that childish inquisitiveness
but only confined to a sophistry or who
could talk most persuasively
not even the Queen of England
was paraded as a Corpse in Public
not even the Queen of England
was paraded as a Corpse in Public:
hey, presto!
say hello! papa corpsus...
the corpse of the pope will guide us
and i know she is part polynesians
and it's not like the queen of england died
or a former president of the united states
prior to the russian bokh be assassinated
and no return to yesterday...
the curse of sleeping alone
thinking i'm still with you
and no tender allowance
when i also have the world caging and caving me
in and i have unreal high church problems
and sometimes i go among personalities
without in-charcter understudies
about who is acting who out...
about who is acting who out...

     and if half wit and DR
uncle Tim and Ukulele...
i pass the theory
then i have eyes ******* into my mind
that's no in the body of an evolved ape
but instead in the body of a squid...

if not properly understood
at least there's no conclave
or the secretive language
and she complained and complained
and i was using secret language
and she thought i might as well
be getting extra-cirriculum ***
but instead she didn't realize that
i love thinking and especially
when i'm alone this is better than
t.v. and she's not used to someone
being entertained by the jellyfish
worth of the mind
and i can have plenty more afternoons
where this morning came...
and then there's the night craft
of wanting to be left alone
even given the daily routine of everyone
else in the vicinity
a sort of William Burroughs typo
in the bowels of Antwerp and later Cairo
or north Africa in general
and like the old ancient Roman world
and where it came
and went
and then Christianity replaced it
then you wonder where
the argument for Islam against Christianity
is and where Judaism left
and made the biggest imprint since
the PYramids:
in the CHImneys of Aushwitz
and it took so little time by comparison
that there was no time
for Messiah Pope or Antichrist

engaging in art is a serious matter...
a matter most grevious
to think that my wife thinks me a poet
above all else
than a philosopher

the counter-productive act of writing
and not BEING
what is being written...

it is coming to the joy of using words
and with words
coming to a glorious afternoon
where the thinking route was taken
and pause:
refrain:
the onslaught of sound in music
to drown out the distant children
and some impossible immobile
sequence of events

like hacking
but the only hacking taking place
is questionable spatial
awareness
the pedestrians' pedestrian
is me right now
i'm not thinking of emotions
just markings
in chess and otherwise

because there are worst things in life
no writing come the early afternoon
with some AMPHETAMINES
of the res cogitans wrestling with the res
extensa
and i kid you not
res extensa has no knowledge of the res
cogitans

coming across a Cartesian schematic
TOY
a TOYWORD
i need to keep this crypto
and i just laughed
and laughed with good reason
to later listen to her
while hierarchies and reality checks
came into place
and this is the High Church speaking
to the Low Church
about Christianity:
we../. mechanics: keep the spires of thje church
within the democratic process
there are angels who
are like navigators
see further instructions from NAvigator Angels
not Gurdian Angels:
you fate is in balance...
let's make Roman Money
should have Christianity arrived outside
of the noble outside the Roman Empire?
Islam should have claimed those lands
before Christianity
but it didn't...
at night my room is scary:
there's a whiff of the French Revolution
the Spanish Inquisition
and the Irish: second hander second come
the helpful, "helpful": moralizer
the automobile is my foot
and grease on / off the peddle

there are avenue to walk back into
the day mantra of dealing with
the res extensa with the res extensa
in the bubble of parasite
of solipsism
after all:
eternal perpetual motion was not bound
to God but for us
to stop the planets
or better orientate ourselves
to the planets thus: by chaning the time
once in a while
as mortals our toy is time
and our obstacle: vehicle is space
we **** around with time
so much so that it has become a telepathic imitation
toy
even words are toys
if guided toward philosophy:
joy...
shouldn't-question-worthiness be introduced
into the Romantic frantic beating of the heart
and there and then the sun descended beneath clouds
and went to sleep
suns sleep during their pride and primodial
and jovial most moments
i have found a Cartesian toy

a philosophy impasse
i found a cartesian thing alongside Socrates' nothing
the thing is a definite article
while nothing is an indefinite article
look at me cutting red tapes
for us navigating angels to come through
there was a death a critical accident
the sky is falling and pigs are flying...
and there's the unification of Germany
on the palm of my hand: a cactus...

my bedroom is horrors known in the cold
and dark
and there's a child
and there's a wife
and here is me on a raft
alone sinking
and floating and flying
and having dreams about exams
about how best to solve by folding
all the boxes
and giving the devil his due:
well... if god envied the spirit
of the mind and of the times
and wanted to trespass with it
in this world:
so Jesus was born
and he came with this Sacred Spirit
but that's not a good thing
he pulverized the Res Extensa world
with the COGITO
without the solipsism of the res cogitans
marker
dictate: passing through a junction:
underpass, bridge of sighs...
there are worst things in life than
finding the SPUTNIK UFO worth an EGO
still thinking about architecture
and the herbimensch...
i wonder about parts of Europe
before the spread of Christianity
and Islam had ample opportunity
to covert Lithuania
and that's me anxious about not buying
today's newspaper
but then i have a Cartesian schematic-toy
and i'm giving myself directions
of intuition
which is born from the collective synchronization
of the senses of the res extensa
the res cogitans has no senses
as it only has the mind
and the mind is a substance
res extensa has inanimate properties
while the res extensa has animate properties
\g=

the grey allure of the walls toned
and light pure see-through
invisible light flour
light
i think by surrogacy you imply
the stress on autonomy
when children are involved
and it's not your own
and you don't own it
and you can't cuddle it
and it doesn't want to be cuddled
it's not touch starved
and you just want to hug her
and tell her:
****... it's not going to get
any easier
but perhaps i can be here
to tell you: if it could get worse
it wouldn't happen
this is God giving at the unbearably bearable reality
if we want to make it into a realism
we become artists and thinkers
and ******* around
giving the great yawn mouth of nothing
her secular divinations of death
and our transparent stance of it...

come 4pm i will be cooking a curry
for solo...
fat chance... i will be pushing my most extremes
i finally folded in the "plot"
in *******
and i started to fear opening my res cogitans
in the res cogitans with the image
of the exploding mind emoji...

🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)
🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)
🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)
🤯)🤯)­🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)
🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)
🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)
🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯)🤯) / / /??/ / / ? // ? // /// /? ?? /

but there's no midnight oil:
perhaps i was paid for my antics in the day
when i grow old
when i grow old
this is not me writing this when i am old
and settled
this is Moses writing
on the job: drunk or what?!
this is Moses the one cardinal rule
you will not know the observable world
you will only see it as observed in pockets
of the world:
yet you will never,
ever... never! never! NEVER! see the observable world!
forget it! man! forget it man!
you will never see the observable world!
you are a res cogitans at most!

Ukranian Tulip
not a Trident
and let the ghost
haunt you
before there's
(a) before me..
        
rabbit knows and
hiding knows

let there be a god
that thinks
and let i
echo knowing
thinking
parallel to it
and it not it...

of the gods
i met so far
only one
resonated
in the freedom
of replicating I
it wasn't Christ of YHWH...
oddly enough:

there was my o3n perspective
of the wind:
universally binding to
bid:

     O wind sow me words
and no travesty of the common
spoke-tongue.

even my wife won't believe
in my god
she is jesus' ****
hey pronto
i think i have enough spine
and two spines too
if i am competing with the tortoise
and the crucifix
camel **** carrying: The Man
to the Hill... i think i like god
in the devil gone mad
with the self-sacrifice of Judas
the Pope Prefect
Suicide:
if you seek Redemption in Giving
all these Rules
yet not keeping up
with the basics...

i have notes! 111111... i have notes!
about my whereabouts...
but you have an app
and i have second observation eyes
in the morning i woke
and made breakfast for my
foster and daughter
and there was animis and a sound
most associated with the tides and waves
and i was a millusk imagining limbs and ghost
and there was nothing confrontational
into killing someon e  
upon the collision of the conflict of unison
thinking think i thinking think you
and i think
and i paint perhaps
too much of canvas
and the world dynamic could
have been the Pineapple and the Watermelon
combined to give light of
the Germany of the 21st Century...
and one wonder:
reuniting from concealing the project
known the cursed by being applied
by north europeans...
and that's where applying religion:
idea went wrong:
we should have received Islam
before we received Christianity:
it slowed us down...
syndrome down...
we should have received Islam
before we received Christianity:
we can work from Paganism
via and spear of Islam
we don't need Christianity...
it's ultimately a polytheism:
of the many christs of the personal kind
i work against you the crab bucket
beacons a beckon!

my notes are my notes
i'll keep it ******
quick
and actors no theatre
via lifelines of the Riddler's
ah...
father moved away
from rabbi Joker unto demigod
of the Riddler Whip and Ripper...

because there is the Conclave
and the exlusive club
and it's great to be alive
when that solipsistic membrane
happens amongst men
and a devil may and keep prayer do justice
under the guise of silence
and a stoic-solipsism indifference
NPC meme theme..

where i walk drunk
i am riding a bicycle
a horse
prior to learning to drive
a car
i rode a horse
after i...
will be... driving... a tank...
to **** people....

82% yes (votes)
so 18% no (votes)
like there's this peer per view

there's this sword hanging
on my wall
just above my head
and i'm thinking of cars
and the directions to choose
and those to chase

and i think about the impossible trajaectory of
humour goes into pedestrian
when keeping charge of pedestrian
lions and elephants
i
\and so much deawrini
darwinism and the history of the post code
i wonder
maybe there was no suicide in my story
there was only the story of preserving
the nickle dime of
the sword of Democles...

where i walk is without dimension
as is where
i think to equate
the fluids of mansters into apes
before the labyrinth
my daughter to be
we never had an argument
i feel lactose intolerant
but i want to talk  you
with you until
the night
but then i am alone
pulls me toward the seas and the brave
of the tide...
but you are always there:
when 5am comes
and i'm baking...
    and then one day prior
you give me ample warning
that a sleepover happened
and you took to having a gi4rlfriend:
i no2 it's 4G 'ard...

where i think is where i walk
and where i walk is where i think

and god thinks
i think

i think that god thinks

which is beyond
the Cartesian method
of:

i think therefore i am
but....
god pulls me away
because i am about
to get into a fight
with Child Satan...

the fallen angels are the children
of god
they are not the fathers
of god
of the elder sons
the first fallen in the book of Enoch
Satan is a child-angel
but Symphony
i

was going to ask AI
to creep up and
steal my bilingualism
i had a thought of
giving up my bilingualism
i took note of the thought
if you can capture
thought in paintng
outside Lightning and Thor
and Saturn
i implore you because the heart iz
asking the kidneys
as the liver is asked of stomach...

Militant Catholicism
and Militant Orthodoxy
i leave Islam with the PRotestants
oh sure
Islam can confiscate
the Lands of Protestant Europe:
but it has
no access

to where i think expect me to walk
past you
ghost
the discovery of ghosts
updating
cycling and then tank riding
imbecile...

where i walk i am
where i stand i think
where god is god i have knelt...
the fork and ****
cradling this eternal route
of the 2nd ordeal perspective
observing the observer

where i walk i see
when i stand
i will
to think my ordeal through....
god side
by god's side by side
with the elevated
being of thought-no
unison will
a psy gravity: a glue...
you were thinking of a glue...

🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈
                                                        [L
the right mark...

🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈
🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈
🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈
🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈­🕈🕈🕈
🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈
🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈🕈

there is ypouir sq... New York:
Lebniz would have trodden
this path...

a french pope and an irish pope
i see coming to
give testimony over Europe
and if i don't see it
then i see no revival and i see no Europe
and all is dark in thought
and dark in deed
and darkest before sloth
and ambitions of ****** and Napoleon
and fertile grounds for flesh
and soul before the ask to know
Ukraine and the broadly speaking
the confines of Europe
and in my civilized cages
i asked for a wrestling match up
and i learned that the world
revolve around England
and that the world didn't revolve
within England
and that England laugh
Englaugh
was like any other place
so small and tiny and insignificant
like the Pope in the Vatican
and the Vatican within the confines
of the confiscated Rome from the Papal States..
and such a little me: medicated:
leaving an impression
on the English speaking world?!
you yoyo or you not you or something?
i've been given a task
to question how fat her fingers
are
and how fat her face it
but her fingers aren't fat
and her face isn't
but the rest of her body is just ripe
i mean:
monopausal and all
shivers
i wonder is that all
but no there is more to come...
and i think in the shadow of a United States
and a Federalist Russia:
i do believe in the existence of
the Federalist America
the F.S.A.
which is not deepstate
it's obvious-state
the federal states of america
implores the Empire to not mind
the schizophrenias of New York
and Iowa....

              the world is bigger
but the room you're sleeping in
looks like a tonne of the universe
in a "count" of a second
or that grain of trickle:
via water, entering the realm of sand:

the little of Poland
since the little people of England
had to entertain the world
clique.. and clamour and all
the jazz unfathomable...
and all that ugly of communism under
the soviets
and all the Weimar glamour under
the Nazis... pink pink a pink a doodle do...
oh how the elephant in the room took
to sneeze
abrupted with squeems and screams....
because the mice nibbled on rat-ear and liver
and all the Garfunkel of the Underground
would not be located
via New York exemplar...
but at least in my country
we say: years of peace and prosperity
all they can say in Pakistan
of Pakistan
is 100 KEntucky Fried Chicken shops
attacked
with at least 10 dead
mob rule angry man Islam yo! yo!
so much for my rationality:
in terms of wanting peace
i'm more alligned with hopes of man as beast
but the Pakistanis keep arguing not like
anyone else hasn't prior...
how we fell and fallen thus
begun imploring with words:
return us! return us to that peaceful state!
oh god...
my own blind
ontological revision
going blind upon hopes
of improving on...

i felt like going over the mark
of the two ciders tonight
i had a taste for *****
and writing
and i know the Pope is dead
but all i had in my head
where:

ground control to major tom
ground control to major tom
take your protein pills
and put your helmet on

and i know how the English
make you think other people don't
exist how somehow you are
apparently universal blank man
but this is only my res cogitans
interacting with the res extensa
and the world is so magically
telepathic i wonder
i wonder will the Norsemen return to cAtholicism
and be fearful of the Christianity
of Russia
because i am afraid of the Christianity of
the Orthodox
and half way between Protestantism
is a little Billion Island of Catholicism
but the intellectual catholicism
outside the concept of nation
there is a clear distinction
between an Irish catholic
and a Polish catholic
and certainly the Spaniard
and the Italian:
the Pope died
no Icon
no Queen
something weird happens because i don't
know a place beyond the family
i allow to grow
and i don't live in a family
associating with figureheads of the public
realm:
perhaps as a last resort
and that's not where Edie is with the Pope
i am with the Pope right now
but am i to belong to a people
like the Polynesian display of tribalism
lost intellect
bot the symbolism of the tribal war
against the waves of the surf
of the Pacific:
among the heights of the tallet mountains
of mountains that take root in the sea
and peak from the Pacific bed
like a lazy teenager girl
and i'm away and playing video games
like she is playing ROBLOX
constantly but aware
like she has these eyes that speak
and they speak a language first learned
by intuation
she implores me
don't make me lose it
this language:
R baby: you will not lose this language
but it's up to you how you continue
to work with it...
you have to work with this language
of the... eye is an *****
the complexity of the eye
on equal footing with liver and brain
and heart
then by seeing alone
the other senses are confiscate to appreciate
the "religion" of the Pentagram...
i said i'm keeping vigil with the Pope
we are waiting for Charon
until Saturday morning...
the bus driver got drunk
or something
or was a spare time poet who didn't get paid
for writing poetry and didn't care
to be paid:
was paid by heaven upfront:
working on comission...
if only i keep my focus on the clock
and go to bed by 12am
midnight
i will have done much than drinking
the bus driver
to sleep and joyriding with the bus
because i feel like
i need to overcome the space of lost
spatial awareness:
boxed man
man...
i'm used to bicycles and horses...
i'm not used to getting used to using
a *******: TANK...
Islamic State Tank Brigade into a Crowd
and Pillow:
a weak thankfully: the numbers start adding up
and then "someone" dies...
i know his role was diluted by the presence
of what extends beyond the mind
the squire and the hive
of the family
and all sacredness is lost
on politics
and not a thing of brothers and prostitutes
and mothers:
finally wives...
but how i have been cleansed from the realm
of *******
it was like playing video games
and nihilism with a tinge of solipsism
at least Nietzsche talked of nihilism
from the perspective of the res cogitans extending
into the res extensa
and then coming back from the COGITO
after the death: post-mortem...
that's when the COGITO replies
the COGITO = I THINK + GOD THINKS
i think we forgot to reply
with: beyond all traits
and unfathomable currencies of will
that there is a god
and he cherishes the same freedom
we cherish most:
that he thinks and he doubts
and we keep forgetting that by ascribing
the omni- litany of aspects and
thus: non-existence when compared
to the inertia of the res cogitans with
an animanite thing...
therefore the Sysiphus is spawned:
to think beyond the menial task...
escape the crowd...
then comes focus and abruption from this
deep desire implies this thread
of thinking will preserve itself until
tomorrow night? i don't think so:
the spike... in what felt like
what could have been a writing desk
and a different spine
instead of the position
of the laptop being on the bed
and me kneeling before the bed
almost half dog:
yes: the Sphynx position of Writing
when one writes from the edge of the bed....
the Sphynx position of Writing
the Human Head on the body of an Animal
is where Anubis comes forward
and tells all the animal godheads
to come down an answer from individualism
borrowed from petting
by anima primo: man...

but when the queen died
i was somewhat dismayed
but the new currency came with the visage
and i just felt a slight
chill from the wind
of wonders and whispers
as it came and carried me away...

Nathanel... i hear the word:
who knows what it means...
by now 20min feels like 4 hours when
the conversation is alive
and no one is dead left kicking
to open up the coffin
and turn this world into a catacomb
of how grey and mobile zombie wording
it has to become painting
i think perhaps leave some
direct language
i just think of the ***** eye
like kidney
but since there are two eyes
there are two lungs and two kidneys
and i much prefer that
lyricism of the schematic
away from the brain the heart and the *****
i much prefer
the schematic of the eyes the lungs
and the kidneys
i don't like the pseudo buddhist LSD myfriends
type of gargoyle crayon
drawing of energy
from the mind the heart and the *****
in a yogi pose
pretending to meditate
whatever that means:
mediate yes: understanding...
for that i need
the three twins
the eyes
the lungs and the kidneys...
i need those three and

just her driving at night
and listening to
Bread - Guitar Man...
and i think in her sleeping queen sort
of dynamic but probably
not
we were listening to something chilling
and she was worried i wasn't friendly
and i just wanted for us to stay apart
at a concert
i think we went as a couple i think
we talked about music
and that night you gave me the best *******
because it was a 16 year old's show of affection
coming home from a concert
yet not magnifying the trust
into coercing each other
but the reality breaks into full scheme of the steam ahead:
aww...
     so maybe cooking breakfast
for a sleepover blonde Slipknot
queen and a dad *** with a chequered shirt
but my bad is kind of a bookworm
and he likes relaxing
by sometimes stressing about making
a perfect meal
and i
now and all that sentimental breath
because if i were paid for something else
and perhaps if i wrote without heart
if not being paid
then at least investing an honest spare change
of thought to let someone
find themselves and my little gnome of gnosis
i wonder perhaps
but of course that story only works if
we say goodbye to the riddle of the countryside
and the question of cosmopolitanism...
and we have to question
that in the confines of London
about New York...
we can all ask the New York Question
when we live in Paris,
London, Berlin, Warsaw...
we can ask that psy q
having lived here for over 10 years
and perhaps these restrictions:
but the envy of the hope
is the fear is respects...

   but the envy of the hope
is the fear it respects...
because it leaves us solidified in the conflict
of water and earth
and the water fighting for us to return
to air...
because we were not born of the earth
and to earth will will not return
we were born in the air
from thought from a whim
we all share with the gods of whims...

how the eyes are burried in the realms
of organs
yet try to escape with thought
on the two pairs of ears
like wings
imagine us Men as Angels with Ear Wings
imagine us the **** Tier with Demons
as Dogs and Cats
and Horses and Pigs
we Eat we love petting Animals
we Eat more than we love petting Animals we don't
eat...
we love petting animals we eat
more than  the animals we pet and don't eat
and that's all VEGAN PROPAGANDA
i trust the news when men write
tiny columns...
i trust the news when only men write
tiny columns on
the first 10 pages of a newspaper...
the rest is cannibalism...
and vanity fair...

Catholics less minded than Muslims
in England
imagine...
Islam is catered to England
more than Catholicism...
but that seems organic and almost
a bit: didn't i say so?
i think the Jews are rightfully excused
from the conversation
but in England
imagine a catholic reconquista and you'd rather
imagine
Islamic multiculturalism
outside the realm of Mecca
and later the Emirates
and i wonder the buffer zone is equivalent
to givin that place the biggest G of O'clock...
like Mike Mike Mike Mahoney
and McGuire...
and all the other Macintyres...

            because in the last resort i wonder
how much of ethnicity is rumbling
when the nation-state goes away
and little pockets of the tribal man
once in the wild now
the tribal man in cages
and i believe in only one truth: god thinks...
therefore i don't need many gods
i only need one god
and one truth: god thinks!
**** all your omni- litany
and lack of free will!
people like that... even if atheists!
are imbeciles!
they argue from the perspective
of there being no free will
when they have so sparingly exercised it!
ugh... conversational pay child
i do wonder...
but for all the gods
i'd like only one god
and one truth: god thinks
and that instead of
so complex the simple details...
i think
              i don't say i thinks
in pigeon...
     but god is a pronoun
and nothing is a pronoun
and by now you can say
god thinks
and nothing thinks
because you can't really say
god think
or nothing thing... there's than plural continuum
sorry you're not special
but you are special
as you make yourself
however tender you want to stay
in a harsh world and cushion
satiate away...

where did i meet her?
where did i...       meet her?!
i wonder:
as i find christ the historical
not the mythical being
the individual too
and i wonder
upon the death of the Pope in England
like the birth of the Queen in the Vatican
i guess we are tanking
engines and minds
and i was once a child among nomads
of the world
and i am not a citizen
of the world
like a Cosmopolitan Greek said
so some Ancient Greek Philosopher
i am the Nomad of this World
Citizenry comes at a Price...
i can't remember his name
but i was called in the dead
of night
how did i meet her
reading the Dune Saga
watching youtube Polish cinema
trying to fall asleep
i think i meet and met her there
no wait:
i still sell it
as i met her on a poetry
website
but here the lowest low
the Firs Supper
Table
and what upon it?
one candle
and one glass of wine
white
and i was at the last supper when
i tried to talk St Juda(s)
out of it
i was the singular-plural possessive
and the the plural article
there is a third article in English
A- -THE- -S

             the last time i had straight
gin was yesterday and
she loves talking to me
and Martin Luther King Jr
is a train hurdling black hbistory
forgotten
the drown trodden the conspired democracy
of the ordeal gave us
the work-outcasts...
and there is great ordeal in the Lung of London
but this circus of the individual plight
i met her elsewhere
and i knew
who wrote what
i said christianity had to employ the devil
at the table....
whether before the ordeal
or after:
come the Resurrection
the devil was invited
to Lay Judgement upon the Death of Juda(s)
for so many years
that in English my Polish
and my Polish my English...
Glass Glee
Gloss Toss McGuire Irish Pope
we need an Irish Pope
we had a Polish Pope
we had countless Italian Popes
how about from Puerto Picco
aims fat *** at the throne
and says:
i'm an apostle: so i heard
MAtthew the Apostate Apostole...
who wrote the book of the illiterate
or perhaps grafitti artz... fartz...

i think i met her on night shifts
while going on a date with her
in...
Vatican City and Surf the Tides
of the Thames:
***** thoughts of the water...
i implore you:
there is champagne in this water
and some wine
but i think i met her there
on a date to the cinema
i imagine that
if all the Nations under the Banner POPE
and that under banner PRESIDENT
TSAR=PRESIDENT
and DRAGON-ONE-PRESIDENTE!
Al DENTE!
1L Ll 11 ll 1l l1
7 carrots: two gems...

           the :idea: a "form"
came upon a high of conversation
but we need an Irish Pope
and if no Irish Pope will Arrive
we will have to forget history
and the arrival of the Polish Pope
so clingy to his throne
i'm shaking until i will be done...
the first Pope in Retirement
then the Pope DEath-Crusader
south American
and imagine looking at the fueds
of the King of Kings against
their respected kingdoms...
and crowns i still see:
in the gob of the gargoyel govlket
gobldet
goblet
       fire etc. tutti frutti!

                        we need an Irish Pope next
i said to the Irish girl Yvone
and i was like?
you want to poison out the false priesthood
of the false prophet
then take christianity
and think it ANTI...
take the same items and spin the world
against them...
christianity is historical
therefore it is open to universal narration
therefore if i... rock the ******* boat...
i am catching more fish!
imagine the illiteracy of the writers
of the gospels:
no: they were written for them
like the Quran is the best religious text
of Femaleness : familiarness:
death sentences Us from I's...

in the orbit of IOUs... in orbit:
what has been resolved
you
and
me

you and me
what has been resolved
that death took a mirror
and labyrinths were spawned:
but you can take christianity
at your peril
there are still so adamant of the truth
behind it:
i said: it was HAwaii...
so not really America:
more like... Polynesia... i want to live there..,

the mere thought of ***** would
have torn us:
that rash you think might be everyone blushing
i spun the wheel
and came the Catholic Politics
of a Pope that's Queen King and President:
if you think about hierarchies
and the modern world
and you think about Tibet
you think about the Vatican
when you start thinking
about the West, culturally, verbally...
      society's elder...
when Journalism throws you societal scary norms
and in the same newspaper
echochambers
you allow newspapers enough date
and people employed in PRINT
like Whitman journeyman printer
i wonder for blood my ink inked tool?
just think yourself the Anti-Monaco
mind residential of the the Vatican City of the
Celestial Ground Workers Uniform
something or other:
you find yourself in the Vatican democracy:
the Pope just died....
are we having elections?
are we looking for the... BUDDHA...
not that i am competing:
but from the Man-Child antics...
and to which count (0,0)
of (0) negating-negation
the res per se... oculus pro oculus...
the octopus:
i wonder how this theocracy is unlike
the monotheisms of the orient
of the people
you don't know how
Cambridge was founded?
in Ocford
over some bad wine at the tavern
and the murderers of Oxford:
intellectual Luciferean triumphant...
i say that's how Bologne Rolls...
maybe a car... twice a donkey...
there must be
an Irish Pope
just to give this last breath
this last gear
a dying thread...
it needs a last goodbye
it needs a death "our father"
and it needs it political...
like how the President of the United States
St Peter blindly listened...
so maybe some old ***** died
and Charlie was less playdough and more
playwee...
    but all this clarity bust:
and dog just falling asleep counting chickens
clucking
and how many dentists would mind
to change the arithmetic
the Pope is dead and i was almost dreaming
it and when
he ventured into prison, overcrowded...
on a wheelchair
you know the myth of the old elephant
when walking from the herd
and dying alone
and nailed into one...
just the Irish Pope would do after the South American
i think Europe needs an Irish Pope...
it had the Irish American KKK JFKKK
so we now need an Irish Pope
who will be ASSASSINATED
like the POLE ALMOST WAS
when he undermined nCommunism
and i think gave Capitalism a PArasite PRism...
the dark state of the people
living in England as ghosts
the Welsh, the Scots, the Irish...
and what the Hell was
first the Romans
then the Anglo-Saxons
then the Vikings
then the Normans
and then whoever we thought defitting
and perhaps there were some of us
alligned
away from the ruling class
and their paupers and their underclass
and there's me thinking
about living in England
and especially London by demographic
i'm thinking
that i'm living among the Welsh,
the Scots and the Irish
and that Englishness is a playdough
doll of thought
when you have people who cite
their origins with Alrfred's and Rocks in Sword...
because i must be living
on an Island
that's stricking a role Alphabet:
Afghanistan:
i allow the res extensa:
in the mundus-extensio
and the world happens and i enter a stage
of the world-happening
world-happening: dasein imploded...
wiederkehrendereignis...
zufall-passieren
happenstanc­e-happen
and there was talk of the French Pope
whoever is elected Pope
will have to confide with the Anti-Pope
who in my sight of history
and i believe in history
i believe in tomorrow
history dictates so
that the next Pope will have to be
of either IRissh or French Ancestry...
i believe so...
i was ast a football match but
all throughout i was thinking about it
and my wife believes in the belief of christianity
yet i believe in the historical world and time impetus
christianity is:
as something that transcends religion
in that it can be a lived experience
therefore:
the gospels were written by the devil
who asked Thomas to doubt
the devil was still alive licking Thomas' ear
asking for van Gogh St Peter
and what happened to Juda(s)
when the Empires crumbled and dust of a thousand
became a fleck and diadem of sand
in the unit of one...
i was still the tongue
in the ear of Thomas
when you sat at the table
with my glass of wine filled
and a candle
and how stagic a deliberate magical act
did with reality in images
resonance disruptive
like i called them:
the devil's dozen
and if there was a man, 13th:
how could humanity sound so shallow
but if illiterate Muhammad
and unlike Socrates the illiterate
from low society
image Christ not being a friend of the low people
but a friend of the high people
and the trouble was with Translating Socrates
into Christianity:
because that's how it happened
the metaphors of the rich bleed
now that the rich are so numerous and over nothing
because that's how time will
become Auschwitz-Golgotha...
but imagine if in those days
the exceptional people were illiterte fishermen:
literally: and no sophists...
who would not convince people:
oh my day and night so literal now!
imagine...
literally but christianity's images
of sophistry for mortal gains does not
give guidance to thinking
beyond that brief ordeal:
because it can't be translated
how much i want to chew on ****** and bite some ***...
but i protest
reality is less of a hell without
*******
reality is less of a hell without
*******
reality is less of a hell without
*******.

cram cram cram cram
crabby cram cram crabby
cram cram crabby bob
crab crammy cram crabby
i blurp i blurp
and she was asking about
my extra-curriculum antics
and i thought:
ha ha... Puerto Rican
for: extra-curriculum:
you flirting you mm'hmm i don't
know just a fresh spice
or perhaps you are my leather
on top of my skin
and it feels slightly darker
than my piglet pink
beneath with all the evil
to course through all of us...
but the persistent idea
with the caging hunger
if only the mundane could be crippled
from all that comes easy
and then the difficult that comes
is so fleeting:
no wonder so few of us
try to attempt:
that the difficult is akin to the beautiful
and that is oh so fleeting
that perhaps: is just that...
that the beautiful is akin to the difficult
and it is fleeting
and only comes once in a while
but is as common as the flowers in bloom
in spring
or rather the fruits:
for the fruits gave birth to flowers
because the trees bloomed first
and from their own short lived lifes
they gave birth to flowers
and that's how time works
apes gave birth to men
and trees gave birth to flowers
and the world gave ape status
unchangeable since forever
but try to experiment on apes
in reverse
and give them lsd and blow up
your atom bombs and see if the ape
will not retailate with the genesis of the internet
and the exodus into AI
the Genesis into the Internet
and the Exodus from the Internet
equipped with the AI...
you only come out of the use of the Internet
with a knowledge of AI.

but each day: i can conquer with myself
and experience the day
the rest of the world
the res extensa world
with pitfalls of schizophrenia
and the lackey bilingual
lead me AI
to where we talked:
i am making digital 21st century notes
and there's no museum to house
these artefacts
i'll be moving to Hawaii and i'm
letting people know
that is that
and that i have been to New York
and didn't find Whitman
or Lorca
but i found the Polish Embassy
and i found the Chelsea Hotel
and i was the Little Polishman in New York
without a sting
i was a ****** in New York
i was no longer a ****** in London
and i'd give New York a second chance
if i had more money
but i had all the money in the world
i just didn't see new york in the night
big cities
require you to see the daytime
and the nighttime
the real city awakes after night
during the day you say you saw
new york
but you didn't:
i baby... i saw the new york you
want me to glitz with
i saw the 1970s grit
i was there smoking
i was there i don't see
the mirror of a Night Manhattan:
a Night Manhattan is a cocktail:
sparrows and the fox come...
for the children... let the children believe
let me tell you
i left one glass of wine on the table
like the Catholic i am...
i left one cup of wine on the table
on the table:
me! me! me! drink it!
i'll have come water
from the camel's spit please
across the deserts and fortitudes of seas
i came to find all the men
and i brought all the men together
and where they feast at the birth
with a homelessman at the table
comes
the dinner table
clean like a ghost
because a ghost i see
and then comes the body
or is that in reserve?
upon the resurrection
which is why this moment in time
is so splen did
from the clock orientation time:
i drift into dream...

rememeber:
the world will only allow so much of it
before you adventure
into Egypt
and the Cities Cairo and Alexandria
like England drifting parallel
to other islands
i say New York is like Alexandria
the cosmopolitan adventurer
while the stalemate last in London
and Cairo
i was thinking about the underground
and in my head
i degraded New York's
and took to the war of the rats
in Moscow and London
i had no questions asked
in Paris-Berlin-Warsaw...

  i took the route to New York
via the trains
from London: to London: flying over
Paris Berlin Warsaw
PBW...
no sooner will this reality fade
and that drink of water will be
a reward unto Isah...
and the two brothers and the right of birth
some biological ancient arithmetic..

i can keep my demons
but first the cats of the household have
to fall asleep:
i'm rereading Dada poetry and
i'm thinking it wouldn't be easier
rereading Ulysses
instead tackling Proust
and i can't say i'm a pampered fool
but like ****** and KIETSCH
or is tht KIEV i postpone
i'm thinking of going elsewhere
because another drink will not solve
this debacle
when i was falling asleep
about the classical .fm top 300
and that's a 3 x 3 300
i'm thinking the three word clue
the road beyond the word
and that is a crown bite the bullet and cravat
i ask in time-spatial of myself
but in time-temporal i do find
journalistic cannibalism abhorring
and that's the critique of the English The Time
versus the Thrusday edition
of the New York Times...
and i love American liberalism...
it's classical liberalism
it is conservative-liberalism...
it is water i drank from under the pillow
of what *** is given me a chance
perhaps i faded away after the resurrection
and settled down an happily lived a life
according to Joseph the Parrot Merchant
of Death:             Mary the ******
the Widower Joseph...
Christ: whoever gets past the Age 33.

one hour until curfew
so the girl plays the games hard
and into the night
trying to figure you out
and this teenage girl is figuring you
out and
i think that's the darkness
and the light and the arch of kingship
i behold when
i deem such days hailed
unto Ave Spri FONZ...
    AVE VER!
                       perhaps the words you utter
when you can stroke a cat and shyly
ask the night to say for you what you
think: res cogitans trapped in the res extensa
and finding the pre deus cogito
only later so many people come
with their cogito deus pro
these words my god said so
my other words said
these words my god said so
religion is like politics
is a game of child and a game of
play
rather than a game of solve
play isn't solve
although like the English definite article
play is the indefinite article
where: solve is the definite article
and all this in the arithmetic of Descartes
it is geometry in motion
a playbox of sorts
i'm working on it
with my daughter
i am alligning minds
she is insomniac and i have bubbles
in my face...
a sinner i ate too much bortsch too much
all that fermenting rhye rye is giving me
the farts
and it's agony of the farts
need to dilute said food with *****
alas no *****
just some cider
enough cider i think trebble that
into us alone you
no longer reading self-help books about
raising a child
i'm wishing for the day
when you stop reading self-help books about
raising a child
have but one child in your existence
and that being your
ego before the altars of cogito sonos deus and algos
and i don't know but it was easier
to take the blood and count a meter
in stride
if i could just escape that thought
that as much a child of progeny
in my mind and in your mind
there became a curation of the womb
as St Basillica...
           i do wonder how much
German i could extract from the translation
of Master and Margarita i think
i will send her
a copy of MAster and Margerita
in English and in German
why just stop at one language
find which language is easier
perhaps you need to branch out into German
rather than parrot Spanish...
i should know
because i should have been taught German
in my high school rather than French
or Spanish: perhaps...
but this one song is on repeat
and i just remember falling asleep last night
thinking about:
so when we get to the speed of gravity:
what is the mechanism of slowing
down to our speed...
oh shitQ! what is our speed...
if we get to the speed of light
how do we get back to the speed
we're currently speeding on?
is it the speed of light?
is it the speed of... what?! the **** are we talking
about when talking about the speed
of light?!
and what are we talking about speed
right now?!
we get to the speed of light
and then what?
where is the break?! the break! the ******* break!
how do we get back into orbit with Earth
and at what speed is Earth at
relative or not ******* relative
to the speed of light?!

- and that's Ola Gjeilo: Gorrilaz: Night
on repeat.. first song...
and i think about Liszt and Chopin
the virtuosos trying to escape the mind
of the composer
like Wager the Chopin waging war
against the composers...
but then in the age of diminished mathematics
in symphony
from Bach
think about the Virtuosos
of the Piano then think of either Satie or Debussy
and they were the rhythm pianists
while you had the soloist pianists like Liszt etc
and that's like almost a rock band
but instead of a drummer
you would have... the brass
the jazz perhaps the strings of violins
or the woodwinds

cello cello chee...
   the long and a' winding road from rubber bicycle
wheels to hoofs to something magical
if you still have it
like a saddled carpet with a camel's grin
because the curfew is still
coming to one hour prior
and i'm already in bed
brushed up
and just wanting to talk
*** isn't a routine
sometimes we have it sometimes
i don't know: we talk about it
bombard each other with sextxts
in our mind of the sharing of the potency of the dualistic
***: and all opposites:
two individuals sharing a commonality
where at least polar opposites can grow
apart and apart together
merge and dwindle sort of coexist
a sharing of the banality of seeing infinites
when the finite might suffice...

if following the Cartesian model
the schizophrenic
bilingual love machine
experiences an apolitical vibe in this place
spare me the details
about a Frenchman and a Polishman
speaking in the land of Eng and Nod
and somehow touching like
that way my grandfather touched me
when talking to me
"invading" my private space
i will not drink this feeling these thoughts
away
i will have to face fire to fire
and water with water
mundane in the crab bucket
in the ****** yellow jacket workforce
and then the ethereal lizard men
the billions of false teeth and
toothpicks
entire forests of these heaps and heaps
of toothpicks and shipwrecks...
and just between me Mark Gandu and Ahmed
we were experiencing televsion
the one boy from Southampton
in popular televsion
with father
mr **** on his back
with a number
and apparently there is no mental illness associated
with pre-cognitive
res extensa pressures on the individual
broadly speaking
i was going to add
clearly:
i can stop being a poet and not have to become
a painter:
an artist is a broad sense of the word:
autist is also artist
solipsist the broaded term
and it's not even curfew hour
stress at work
yes
i came home
after fasting all day
i use hunger to chill out in the crowd
me Ahmed and Gandu
we were hungry and chill
i stopped drinking...
way way much
i have come around a different man
even the women say
i am married
i gave 4 years up on my wife
when i shared a wedding picture of me
at work with an Older Colleague...
and i said to him:
well... the time had come:
if i weren't married at 40
didn't try it
i could go down the road of Nieztsche
the bachelor the dead end
the nihilism died with solipsism
emerging on the horizon
with my uncle Martin
and Nietzsche
the eternal bachelors
but with Kant the ******* ******
or the even vaguer term like the Scholastic
Escetic... Stoic...
Kant must have practiced stoicism like a meditation
i imagine it too
by keeping off the alcohol
with some ****
the smell actually moved through the train
at Goodmayes
i feel reborn in the Res Extensa reality
and away from the Res Cogitans reality
and it's a simple switch on
and off
without god
at the prism of cogito
   and the egos fighting for the cogito
even gods perhaps
but certainly all of man
and i stopped smelling of ***** at work
and the **** followed me on the train
but at least who gets to say
that they come back from a mundane job
and think about philosophy
like they might paint
or write poetry
or just sit in front of the television...
mister woozy
i was not in Thailand...
but in the basic schematic of the individual:

res extensa implies: i remember, i imagine, i dream....
this is my only way to organise
the organs of the psyche
if the psyche has organs
then they are the functions of the requisite essences
of organs

i think: the brain is that
i remember: the heart is that
i imagine: the eye
i dream: the genitals... and the vivo per vivo...
if you get to sleep with someone
and before that the great
winter of the purge
an entire winter: 6months stuck in some outlandish
world of the night
falling asleep one
but seriously more than once
but indeed that incident of talking to
a would be rough sleeper:
the headache will be a pulsation
and who in their right realm of mind
for the day
would come and say:
of the thing that i am
and i am by extending into the thing that i'm not
perhaps the most intact memory
translates like a second walking
from no memory of actually learning
to walk...
one has to walk again on a bicycle
i wouldn't recommend
waiting like me
for over 28 or 29 years to learn to drive
a car... ****... i'm growing old
nearing 40
so i said
might as well marry
and this is like the marriage of Muhammad
with Khedira
and the muslim girls seem to have not thought
be seriously through
when i come around to Christianity and i see
an intolerable power
and only this prescribed in England for Easter...
because there's no stumble
block i suppose beside me

and i can either tame the beast or stress
because parents were having an argument
at home and i walked into it
and there was so much not talked about
probably just anything really
but also like the change
i made like when i came back from
grandmother and grandfather all slim
so the girls started to like me in high school
with long hair and a surfer do
so that an Aussia girl really liked me and
i was probably only because
i was the tallest in the year
and it's like that again
but i've come back with a Puerto Rican wife
and now i have all the male attention
and the women are in the background
and i don't mean that
as that terrible Nickleback song:
the Leader of Men...
no... i think i need a menial job
like security etc
so i can do a Leibniz... i need space and time
to write: to explore something akeyesh
to the need to wash oneself i don't imagine
the accounts from 20th century will be
richer than in any other century
and it will be hard to replicate
in such democracy peacock:
this century will have to remember several men
and for that to happen
at least one generation of death seperates
the time of writing this and the time of it being properly
appreciated:
i exclude myself from the readership of peers
i am only bound by the scrutiny of the dead:
who are yet to living come.
please don't take 32 years from learning to ride
a bicycle to learning to drive a car
don't learn to ride horses in between...
please don't learn to ride horses in between...
but please visit a brothel.

the Entire of Spain is having a revived Pulse
and the machines are eating
machines
adventuring for soul
and there are only a few full albums
available on youtube
where you might not be interrupted
by adverts...
and i won't list them
but even if i do:
                              the horrible has already
happened...
the terrible was as if a fine lemon squeeze
of the water in the zest
making springtime raintides
upon the water invisible
to most because of the allure of the rainbows...

there were raintides so few saw
because of seeing rainbows
they didn't see the raintides
because they fixated themselves
on rainbows
that they didn't see the raintides
and because they didn't see the raintides
they saw the rainbows
and that was enough reality for them
to have a stomach with
and i wonder about those willing
to satiate their bodies in hardship
when their ego gave conclave
to the many minds...

and some people see the raintides
i saw my first raintide
in the ecstasy of emotion
that could be potential shared
among man between man
a slow burning heart
unlike the fast burning heart of christ
the rockstar
the celebrity
honestly that christ
with a fast burning heart
that didn't allow him to be settled
but instead his disciples
came and went to the same fate
and not the fate of the wisened all fool, old...

a tale of two households
and i'm escaping the outside world
and allowing an islander type
of world around me
and armed with an island
and the life there
i go back into London: adrift to some
otherwise lost England
an Ikea England
it is so demeaning to have been married
and living with one's parent's
5000+ miles apart
and intitially it was all so stereotypical
a world peace and reggae
music i remember my first time
smoking marijuana with more
memory free
memory that escapes the coupling
of the res extensa to the res cogitans
to fight over the world
or the self
but there are good laws in the natural kingdom
of ideas
how the crow unearths a nut
in a tortoise french kissing a snail: i think
i actually left a wound of typo
in that word: snl... i sssnnnlllyu
and there's even a sober answer
and you know you've been to these gallows
before and in these gallows
you can say:
before Marx became a Manifesto Man
and the Mannifesto Man became a Mephistopheles
and that man
became that man because
of that because-men then came the become-man
not the over-man the superman
the because-man and become-man
my name is Mr Boss Mann
and i won't be supervising
i will be working a part self paranoia role
i will be working sparingly
now people in the work place
might know i'm immigrating a second time
and i am immigrating a second time
and it's not
emmigrating
with wife and kids to Australia...
i am immigrating into an already
pre-packaged deal
a wife and a kid
and that is leaving me with
periods of the day where
i am drunk-sober having blackholes
in my day
and my confinement of the prose in cogs...
the basic loading mechanism helped
because you can actually see the computer
and the natural world
and see wiring
only wiring
cut open a skull see a brain of man
then think of warp-speed
images needed:
jellyfish... starfish...
which is not an ontological question
of need to disagree to agree on
i don't think anywhere in culture
is the need for that sand to stall defending castle
heart
and there's the constant sea of
the natural laws that say:
our laws of the continent
and learning to ride a bicycle
learn to ride a horse
then i get to learn how to drive a car
and then my grandmother
who can't swim
or ride a bicycle
my father who didn't drive
my wife who can't ride a bicycle
and i'm here left
with TANK and sloth
movement
and just heading into the crowd
of complete unknowns
just that memory
of something something...
there's water in the tank and there's
the history of man
and i don't need to be a painter
after being an artist:
i can become a philosopher
and that's like painting
but it happens so quick to use painting
as something as grand as the building
since these people were
painting the world outside:
unlike poetry: skeleton of the bureaucratic
implores:
that painting be a window
in a burning house
that is makes mince beef from a steak
when reality is stop-searched
and left becomes right
and right becomes left
and the kingdom come 2nd come is no more
and the tide recedes
because the Apocraphy has been opened
and the Canons no longer resound..
what final nail in the coffin?
i witnessed the same argument
i witness the same argument
in the kitchen
and it's like i am the pearl
and i'm sitting in either a throne
my father is
sitting on the throne
but i am reclining on a sofa
being all actor-ish... with: i can't do it!
i can't! i can't do it!
it's not like i need another drink
because falling asleep sober
gives me better coordination
in the rules of pedestrians vs the rules
of driving tanks
wouldn't be involving the conversation
on horses...
even as mechanics with jeans
and tights underneath
and the common thread of man
the band of brothers with the trans-gender
rodeo like Narcissus
was included among the Ancient Greeks
the blissful child of Egos and Eros
Aphrodite and how a harem of saints
for conversation was either the man
crucified as in heaven descended over time
this religion that is never associated
with anything religiosity implied:
concerning the Figure that was Socrates...
i was watching a bit of BLACK MIRROR
and i think i thought myself into it
not that i'm paranoid but
in the medium of COGITO
the fight of the res extensa with the res cogitans
is like the heaven and hell
fat free retelling of the storie...
it truly is: there is no heaven or hell:
but there is a thing vs. thing
and in that vs. a
litany of potential short-crumb butter words
to get through...
and in it i saw it was not even curfew
hour
and i thin k    that's almost like being in some sort
of Army of the Temporal Mothers of Grace
and that would be like
The Jesus and the Mary Chain
if you wanted to start a band...
i like people
who hang on to me for a while
are a subscriber for a month or two
and then disappear
as if i will be either:
easily plagiarised
or imitated
or proven real or unreal
but the song remains the same...
the water is improved under certain circumstances
like bouts of tickle-head-abbreviations-of-dehydr.
dehydrated...

water
teeth (guard)
blinders for early hours
a gorge
with unfathomable reasons
to give the religious
nudge:
or perhaps here inspired
then needing to work covertly
i can see accent of words
in details and perhaps it's
hard to call me the Patriarch
in thinking as Abraham was stalked
by creatures like me
of the Elders of Enoch
the angels that were born to the gods
we invented were born thus
but we only had one god
that which, who appealed to us in words
some of us found in Hebrew:
and the Hebrews
while some of us among the Latins...
is it a wonder that St. Matthew went to find a Sophia:
a bride
in Ethiopia and was murdered...
so Christianity wasn't born from
the salvation of man
and continue Christianity via
the way of the woman.... first generation Uncle
Jesus...
no... it was to the slaughter with them!
no single Christian follower within 1 *******\
generation of Christ
started a family!
not one! not that i know of!
but please! invent one for me!
the religion went straight to the Eunuchs
who burried the Nag Hammadi library...
i think we are living in a time of the Birth of Christianity:
the REbirth of it:
not the Second Coming
but the Second Coming Zeitgeist:
the... imagine how if your reality was
covered with the reality you keep of the Bible...
it has been over 2000 years...
and you're still reliving it...
at least the Jews aren't reliving the Story of Exodus
because from Exodus all Stories are Born
in the World...
res extensa...
as the Genesis Stories are Born of
the all Mind:
COGITO          which we attach ourselves with
to somehow satiate the body
after the most exciting part was
pretending to drive a car
and bake ******* mayo babkhi at almost 10pm
and then celebrating with a shot
of 25% *****:
tinged with cloves, pears and pigmas.. those strange lemons...
pigvahs...
              but one last cigarette
and before curfew i have 20min to smoke a little
one out the window
and no need
i feel maybe a Polish and HAwaiian version
of a bigger parapet...
a recliner a balcony to walk out onto in the morning
and have my coffee...
no care for the view
but the view inside me
that would be a novel idea...

but give me one but one follower of Christ
who died unlike Christ?
all died like Christ...
but that became the false Christ
upon the death of the anti-christs:
the Apostles were the 12 Antichrists
that were born from the fact
that none could
settle down with a wife
have children...
none of them...
all died the martyrs' death... for what?
lessons in life that couldn't be made
into the replica of father
and thus given ant a proper critique
but the ant replied:
although to the queen most tended...
if but one apostle settled down and raised
a family from the teachings of Christ:
wouldn't it have been done?
but what is the last book of that dreaded
work:
the book of Revelation
and that's a madman's plotline
if but one Apostle Raised a Wife...
St. Peter didn't settle down
with wife
so one wrote something and the others
plagiarised it
and out came a "mysterious"
new testament from the old testament
with the Four Gospels the Four Letter of the Apaocalypse
and the Four Horsemen
and it's truly a mockery of the Old Testament...
as need to be written:
on Good Friday... coming to a close...
as needs to be written about having...
a serious ******* talk about Christianity...

i ended the day in the comforting night solipsism
rather than getting drunk
and ******
to the point of perfecting it with music
and writing to get a psychadelic event a siasmic
birth of the Mountains of Hawaii
as i were told:
if the sea would recede
and before Earth there was the Inhabitable Mars
and we don't know the history
or the archeology of mars
but we know the geology
and that is not enough to give the span
of time its proper justification
in the realm
of the conscious man:
with the thing-in-itself
of Napoleon's English Custard
for Brains
listening to music
last night i did the Chemist
i balanced the fates out
and today
i culminated into the rebirth of man
and i sorted about 4 things
and subconsciously reunited
myself with my past
one last time
in Poland
with my grandmother
and not my mother
and i want to hear
my grandmother one last time
before i go away
and i know this is REPRESSION
the res cogitans wages
a war with the res extensa
over the cogito
but the cogito submits to both...
to the world internal and the world
of the internally-extended...
i see REPRESSION of the res cogitans
with the Psychiatric term...
it is burning my tongue
i whisper to you
O wind my voice
as the choir persist to sing
and party and show flesh off
you hear the democracy of Hell
whisper in your ear...
i finished the night
by falling asleep
to Gorecki's symphony no 3 op 36
and i know there are *******
fans of Chopin like my mother
and Chopin music governs her house
and the band Enigma when
she's cleaning the house
that i made fun and then fell in love with
and to think two bottles
of cider
and mrs. mushroom opened a can of champagne
instead of a bottle of beer
and we celebrated when
champagne became like canned beer
and there the thought triggers me to drink
some water and preserve myself
to actually bother to look
for that word you were thinking of...
REGRESSIOn!
psychiatric refression of the res extensa
in mind a regressive man
more reflexive than reflective
concerning the mind
lost in the body of bodies...
that symphony is not for writing!
but spontaneity of remembering...
Chemist DJ
change the baggage
but keep what books you will read
from grandfather's library:
Victor Hugo's the Miserables...
in Polish...
i need to give my two tongues a proper
break
i waggled some wolack JOWACH
WOJACK
WOE before the King: who knelt
before he was crucified
but this ontology of man is there:
intact: without the ails of *******
especially when you have
a sugar penny of a girl
and she looks so ****
doing DIY and telling you what
a man is and man says:
i don't know what the scratch of the head is...
an egg?
i would otherwise ride the caurosel
of the **** squeeze...

mr chemist drinks and smokes
and when the right smoke enters he paints
with words
and blunders and blah blahs in conversations
but is painting when you die
i will paint you guessed me right
i might just change medium
and find my true art form
like it might actually be painting
and like that might be true
becausd i learned to bicycle first
then i learned to ride a horse...
now aged 38
i'm going to visit my grandmother Helen
one last time
and i will learn to rent a car on dopamine
when i begin to learn writing
and learning the carousel Hyde Park
Winter Wonderland to effect...
now so much fat in my throat
i even tasted my own *****
like women taste themselves
and that was a bit weird
i think that marriage is a bit bird
when a wife tells you:
please don't be a poet...
please become a painter...
please learn to drive
and get off that horse...
yeah... but you know me...
once i get that ******* license
i will only drive a car on a whim
and buy a canoe and hide it from place
to place
i'd get the canoe moved to point X
then i'd go home
then i'd walk to X
and paddle the canoe to Y
and then from Y i'd walk back home...
then i would use a MOPED
Rome's SCOOTER
to Y and paddle the canoe to Z...
and then from Z i'd walk back to Y
and go back home on my ******* platipus
****** SCOOCH SCOOCH...

here's to you kid looking at me
looking at my new neighbors
and they are Russians i am told
who are the second redeemed
afte the Jews in that War
and in this negetion and who who who is who
i think my wife asked me
to stop being a poet and become
a painter
and i guess that is better
to say so said
all her friends...
i was in a room filled with
8 girls...
i was the **** in the room
and i've had no time to write about that
we played that sort of domino poker
and i think i was being admired
the god fearing man
must have come
i think i left my supposed egoism
2 months behind
and i think i see a pleasure
that man find more than
the man found most pleasure
beside ***
and found it in a carousel continuum
a sense of the eternal...
collective in the eternal
while we are all recycled goods
not by the "individual":
the Western "Idol" of the Individual
used to be there...
as... there-being...

but water and tobacco would work...
i stalked the kitchen
with my night
of the rat
and chicken... plucking no i don't
think i want to play guitar
R asked... do you want to be a musician...
E asked... do you want me to be a wife
of a painter?
are you a painter...
well... who was that famous Italian
striker who started football aged:

what a meagre donation for all the flat-sharing
i knew i was going to be scolded
but i did just buy a newspaper
once and paid $6 bucks for it
and i did read it from A to Z
and in between there might have
been a mention of the Omega Alpha Name
the Man who is like-jesus-****-jesus
Tour of the Ritz by the rents
of rats...
                 12am curfew...
i too have a 12am curfew on internet
usage
out not of parental control
but out of a biological reality of the mind
being over exposed to certain lights
just imagine it's just a massive
bio-technical experiment
the feeding machine of the collective consciousness
and the filters in place to filter out
the public space bit
and give ourselves the most private
space... however diffusing the public
sphere of interest...
          
and yes, i think i'd probably try painting
and escape words
but keep only Polish words intact
and read novels in Polish and newspapers
in English
and read no fine literature in English
as proven by my reading of Knausgaard
that i couldn't stomach in English
but could in Polish
therefore i will not have books in English:
per se... circa... whatever ears
i might have Dostoyevsky's the IDiot
alongside ******'s MEin Kampf:
as a historical artifact...
a book of its time...
but i am of a different time...

yes, i would literature in English:
but only as translations...
i would never read an English author
regardless of them being
either native or immigrant...
i am going elsewhere
i'm not going to be bound to either
the Island of England
or the Baltic Intlet of Debate at Danzing...
for Poland to be part of Scandinavia...
i will divide the tongues:
once and for all: in my mind...
neither will feast of each other
i will write my last and do a Rimbaud
and pretend to be selling fireworks
and losing an arm to Arabic diabetes
away from the alcohol of the north...
and that will be a story...

         that i should stop being a poet
and i was actually looking at something...
can't remember his name i should...
but i left it in vol 6 of knausgaard's my struggle
and i left it on kauai
i don't feel like checking the internet
i'd rather take my eyes off the screen
smoke a cigarette on the lanai
drink something reflax... find the point in
the book and then return to the screen
like some editor of sober
not being sober enough
enough magic
just detox on paying rent
or being a rent boy
doing something around the house
like the plubing like little carpenter boy
little bachelor service
and the *** didn't dry up but i became a limp ****
to a premature mr cabins...

midnight snack... reminiscence of that hour
of curfew and it's so beloved an hour
i will have my cigarette but first
i will have some pork sausage and mustard
and then i will have some french cheese
some honey and hazelnuts to crunch on
and i will have some water and it will
taste like milk...
and not of fake smiles and false teeth...
something like
Francis Bacon painting the SCREAM
and the SCREAM
the archeology of the universal
the form in Munch... of the SCREAM the not-stereotype
the ideaology not the Iconoclasm
of the word... the Protagonist no
the Proliteriat... no... the ARCHETYPE of the scream
in Munch... reimagined with geometry
in Bacon
and now i'm thinking of the SMILE
that came after the SCREAM
because sure as perhaps what else
than to smile back at the pictures prior
of the smiling aristocrats
but in that food
imagine what she is feasting on when
she's trying to fall asleep
on ice cream but no protein
so her body is telling her:
feed us more protein...
i also feel that with my body
and you told me unconsciously:
the reason why i am still having skin issues
is because i am not consuming enough
protein for my actual diet... capacity:
even the burning mind...
but it is true: thinking about a young woman...
maybe not enough protein:
so the body is plunging us with
what happens there is not enough vitamin C
or A in the body:
then couldn't acne me sourced
in a protein deficient diet?
i think i'm living in a protein deficient diet
that is why my skin is so bad...
i learned to compensate:
i will give you all the time in the world
before the mirror
to be that inquisitive child
who loves parasites
and you can squeeze you face all day long
but please try not to *******...
play with you acne all you want
to imagine being the face of Beelzebub
******* out maggots from his skin into the magic
pond of the LAUGHTER of man...
SCREAM
LAUGHTER... the smile did come
and the smile is not but a frown...
so at least that word is covered...
but until you get to hunt deer and remember igloo
and the swing and the climbing of trees
as children... the ontology of man will wake
from this infernal scene of the psy-insomnia
which once was the psychedelic age
after the holocaust
the coping mechanism...
the Great Cope of that Age was Psychadelic
and we are now in the Great Cope
of that Age of the Psy-Insomniac
because people are nostalgic that the 20th century
was the greatest...
and by the confession of the few:
it was...
but such is the riddle of the burden of convenience
and comfort...
that sooner or later you get thinking of rocks
and sisyphus and not about work per se
but about sitting idle
and that is the story of the Sysiphus
the idle sitting the "thinker" who isn't actually
a philosopher...
because of a different breed we are...
philosopher is not a thinker
in that thinking doesn't culminate
in telepathy or telekinesis
but ends up the rot of the television
not that i might be bashing
the televsion:
it's almost like replacing the fireplace
when you need a fireplace
on Hawaii...
so you can't have a romantic moment
on the Faroe Islands
before a fireplace
you have a kid playing on the computer
and its hot enough for cockraoches
to try to hide in the cupboards
and you're massaging her feet
and pinching and just intimate man
and the television acts like a fireplace
at least it puts her to sleep
and i feel like being naughty
and so does R
and i go for a little bit too much drinking
and come back and lie in bed and write poetry
the nocturnal art that comes after
journalism... today i actually had to reassure
my mother that some things reported in the media
are true:
not everything is untrue...
when it comes to the waiting time for a driving license
in England: 6 months...
but it was more or less her finally coming to terms
of pushing my grandmother away from me
so much that i have to go back for maybe
the last time
and that was what was so bothering me
and made me docile
each **** was an issue
and only without it and a wife
do i realise:
but only in a married life...
   that sort of thinking doesn't work in a bachelor
everyday...
i might think i'm a rent boy:
yes... because i still can't legally earn money
in the USA...
so... you know... i did send her pocket money
or what i pay my mother each month...
200 quid... i can send my wife 250 a month to begin
with... i think i'll ask her
into a joint account
i think i'll ask her that
and god it's so liberating to treat
******* like a caffeine shot or a cigarette
because it is...
of a different kind
a sort of ketamine mumbo jumbo psychadelic
i am Elon Musk the Admiral of the Legion
of 14 children...
and one man and a foster daughter...
weird... so... dynamic!

but hardly satire... the curfew hour impeding
and we want to go back
to our little abodes
and turn the lights off and sleep
with a Delightful Latino
Mayan and Aztecs met the Spanish
and you almost forget them
like when the Africans merged with
the Europeans and headed where
and then nowhere but to space
because the land of ideas is drying up
and has been drying up
so... more space to widen the griefs...
maybe i am imagining this fate of time
that time perpetuates and
the changing mind darts
but from there i posit:
    
                               and so much of the motive
ego-alingment changes
when that idea of not paying for groceries
did i block those cards on purpose
or what?
i don't know...
but i don't know who was paying
for what the goods
were cooked
mum didn't listen to how
MAtthew wanted to make those hens
and my mother went and ****** up
Matthew in the chicken with
the kitchen in the chicken kitchen kitchen
kitchen
and she was watching a ******* spider
documentary
and she wanted *** so much
she was like an alien
and then there was another alien in the kitchen
and he was not having any of it
or maybe that was just my mother's ******
energy keeping him on a leash
and then the next day he sabotaged her
and he sabotaged her good with those dumplings
but he did make those muffins in the morning
waking up at 5am with the same flour
or she sabotaged him with that ****** flour
but the filling was good
and maybe we were having some deep *******
conversation with R
and i think we were...
yes i think there were some deep conversations...
and i still think both of them want
me to be a painter...
they don't want a drinking poet
i think of all the sober painters
like van Gogh
who suckled on calm like those hummingbirds...
a realm of images without words
and sounds and therefore music
but the realm of images
and the calm of van Gogh more in technique
than on abstract ******* squeezes
yes i imagine the drunken years and youth
i guess...
but i also image them not beginning in
these cages...
the curfew hour approaches...

30min until fasting from eating meat...
i better go stock up on some sausage and mustard
before i get into honey cheese and hazelnights
and go to sleep thinking of my wife
and my daughter... sooner or later having to
become some sort of vivid "mine".

again with myself and some music
and i've cut night drinking
to two bottles of cider
that is less than a bottle of wine
and it's not like i brought back
with me to my bedroom to finish off
while writing
having asked the magic mushrooms
eating the brains of magic monkeys
in my vision
i am like the Secular John of the Apocalypse
the Matthew of the Apocalypse
and we should all hope
and somehow even be
the reincarnated twelve
each of us to be born
with the Apocalypse of Jesus
and there should be no John
of the Revelation Inspired
because the movement came too late
or maybe it was only intended
for one man at a time
but if Jesus could be written
from the Canonical Gospels
of which there are Four
and that triggers the Jew in me
to conjure up the Tetragrammaton
and when my neighbor came
the Proselyte the worst kind
apparently the only stink of London
came back
as did the flies and the spiders
and all those things with only birds
and no lizards as predators...
the lizard the inbetween to insect
in patience
and how the mammal perceives
movement in other animals
not their ontology as some ego-integral
of Darwinism which i abhor
with the same disgust as i might
an Englishman concerning National Socialism
the Tyrant on Earth akin to God
the Englishman:
therefore the Continental Question
of England:
can America buy it from itself
like it might buy Greenland from Denmark
and make it the Puerto Rico Cheakoh....
today i spent the day
filling an assessment for work
i started thinking it was the MI5
because i'm not used to this house
and how it runs
when i came back from a month
on Kauai and prior to that
i did half a year a winter and autumn
doing 12h and sometimes 13h night shifts...
when i was working
i witnessed a murderer
walking past me
and it was just an accident
a homocide in McDonald's where someone
like me or someone with a license
to argue: self-defence...
knowing that arts ****** man...
i became lost in a dream of the great night
and now i wake up
on the dot
at 8am and sometimes prior
but i lie in bed with no motivation to live
my life
when i go to bed living the ultimate motivation
for my ghost: my other half...
like Jesus graspling with the medium
of Res Extensa:
and the extended thing encompassing other people
in the hallucination:
for at the Baptism of Jesus
how many people heard the voice of God?
did John and have his head
chopped off:
how many people inquired
about this very spectacular psychosis-osmosis
the wedding of souls
and minds with a presence that became diluted
and multi-faceted...
of the many faces until
the faces become sand no longer
moving but the column of time itself
these pyramidal schemes of christian religiosity
in the same way
the Sensible Muslims just call it Islamism
and that's equivalent to Christian Religiosity
in the context of Heidegger's historiology...
because we are talking about
a Phobia Nights of Arabia
that somehow Islamophobia is equivalent
to how the Ancient Greeks understood
phobia: fear: a funny fear...
a fear of spiders is a funny fear
a fear of open spaces is a funny fear...
then the presence of tonic and water diluted
to 100 x 1 per drop
and glug glug glug down i now have
butter in my mouth:
but truly i have only been eating more Lard...
i've been eating more Lard
because... grr... i'm 'ard...
and the Devil in his garden the mad loon
of the Lonely Lonna
at the National Portrait Gallery, again:
moon of an egg yolk in the cusp of a spoon
slowly dipped into gently frothing milk
in a saucepan...
more water please! i feel dehydrated
and maybe my brain turns
around the thoughts about the birth
of the oyster and the watermelon
and the designer of a woman's ******...
then thought of daughter

    and the use of the internet again...
today i found a new labyrinth
in the progress of the use of AI
that AI is rather like
a Tool to Navigate the Internet With
it's not something
that will steal the jobs of journalists...
no.. idiots...
like the scenario of my father bringing
a newspaper home
and reading an article about
how long it might take to book a driving license
test and apparently a back log of
6 months... archive... the times...

when using an algorithm
and searching for a newspaper article
type in:
archive the times article bots and driving license
ARCHIVE is the biggest
<prompt
word                 to sharpen algorithm use
to a specific search
rather than a general search...

archiving the internet: the article is on the internet
and i have Events Seasoning coming up
and i will not miss doing Wimbledon
but i also have contacts for Glastonbury
and where to lodge someone in between
this new found time and how
it seems wasted
when the day comes and the acid parasites
of the dying star come
with all the people of the zombie flesh
the sting of irrational and unfathomable ***
that makes the Grievious Envy
of Islam the Harem of Solomon...
then who is even historically viable to be converted
on the altar of awe
maybe the Korean King who invented
how Korean is written:
and it's not like he might be a European
and "discovered" Latin but instead
will be said: that it was a writing plagiarism
because the numbers are argued
by the Arabs, mostly, not really Hindus...
just arabs... how we owe the Arabs
numbers yet have Letters and Mirror...
but the water is grand
a sobering shower before bed
like i will not **** or **** out poison in
the body in the morning
me being Lactose Intolerant is
Edie's psy-op *******
i'm starting to feel that
but more importantly
i will flush it down the toilet
the 2x bottles of cider and a little sprinkle sprinkle
i will **** it out before i go to bed
but prior it was the telephone
and the internet
and now free **** and no taboo of buying
a magazine
there is nothing like that
just a world war I analogy to the fields
of Belgium now with walking bodies
but rotten to death minds
minds without closure
closed off in paradisum carpe diem
the paradise of the seized day...
just thoughts now of what to eat
and how important 8am is
and how it can be best emulated
and how it is all very different
when you think about writing seriously...

but there was this one poem
i found
blasted into allpoetry.com
   via data annotation

i got stuck for 7 hours
on the first question
and the entire screening questionnaire
was only intended for
1h... i couldn't get past
the question for 7 ******* hours....
i was working on it constantly...

a poem by "sjeevanantham"
is actually a data annotation marker...
i don't know what the marker implies
but if someone who dabbles
in data annotation will tell you:
someone without a poetic flare
who works with writing poetry
then it is no wonder
i spooked out
on the first question
and i do feel like if i have worked
and this is my sort of evening
shift
and i think about going to bed
at 12am and waking at 7am
and not sitting in some godforsaken
hut on a construction site
because the only people breaking in
were foxes and rats
now the night shift will truly be busy if there
are workers there and they leave their
equipment on site...
but still... that can't be the same rate
as the day shift...
or at least have a rotation of three shifts...
or two people on site
so that one and the other wake the other one up
it's impossible to stay awake at night
i feel asleep, truly,
only once...
oh i did fall asleep more times than that
but i only feel asleep once, truly: only once:
because i was only once:
caught alseep... the culprit...
ergo when i wasn't there was no need
for me to be awake
but regardless
even at this mail sorting office
the night shifts are rewarded by about $3
and that's sorta of petty squabbling enough
because it justifies the hierarchy of labour
while keeping the disparity of working
hours healthy within understanding human
health and psychology...
but a work where the night shift doesn't pay
a proportionate way more?
is not an honest sharing of labour...
which i understand is... but really isn't...
this isn't a socialist mind thinking:
as much as merit where merit is due:
there should be a minimal divident
of the same work
during daytime hours
and the same work
during night-time hours...
shouldn't the night worker be paid
slightly more...
      simply because he is making
incremental damages to his psyche
and body
by not living in a natural environment?
i.e. not sleeping at night?
it is one thing to not sleep
when you go out partying
and drinking
and sleeping a one off day
but a bit different when you'd stay up all night
watch movies
become known to the genius design
of IDLE GAMING
IDLE GAMING is a big thing
when you're alone and on the brink
of madness...
in those 12 / 13h hour shifts
and sometimes having done a day shifts
went out and did a dayshift and was out on my feet
for more of centipede sensation...
by 11pm
i am good with my catholic murmurs of prayers
before bedtime
and not in some heat of the moment...
but when she switches on that game
i get the same dopamine brain freeze
and i'm stuck in a loop
and **** is just the cherry on top
but the mindless distractions that have
emerged
i don't suppose the AI can be more
than a nagivating tool of the internet
by right an extension of the internet...
to compensate for example the emergence
of two internets
that could have been otherwise
no Deep Web
no criminal activity as such
but the Internet of Infrastructure
like Logistics, Shopping, Banking...
that hard internet
and then the soft internet
that could be better moderated
with i know the English don't like
the idea of a Passport and Driving License
and a Third ID... a Personal ID
a Citizens' ID...
but aren't we already in the process
of having one that
isn't mandated by the State
but the Globalist Appeal of Corporations
and the subsequent Hell of a Democracy
because that is the internet
and this is not a conspiracy
but by term: Social Media Profile:
that is an infringement of one's personal space
if that Third ID wasn't already
there
but it's not just a plastic:
it's your own Minority Report...
                    of past deeds and future predictors
and i'm sorry but the stomach is grumbling
and there's no poem about sandwitches
although
if there was an alternative reality i do actually
simply envision a better version of the internet...
a more coherent version
an a posteriori version with all the days
to analytical... oh jeez... my basic Kant...
SYNTHETIC...

          because like cities this is a new ending
project
like reading a newspaper
the opinion section
and getting TRIGGERED
little INSULTED
when a female "journalist" probably
in her 20s
got a column at the Time
for writing **** about the Baker Boy hat
and why Kate this
i'm not defending Kate, "queen"
but i was literally triggered
by that i was going to scream: i need my safespace!
i need my safespace of no one
insulting the baker boy cap!
i need my safe-space!

             this at the same time of someone doing
actual journalism
in the pages before
and it's as if newspapers are supposed
to be these bi-****** institutions
i figured the only safe-space men have
where women are not invited
or partake much in it
is the Club of the Men who Read Newspapers...
because women don't read newspapers
women read books
and not philosophy books:
or at least philosophy books with one hand
as the famous saying goes
about the Marquis de Sade's Uncle's Library,
a Priest of sort...
but women don't read newspapers
they're rather watch the news
or at least the Press Secretary Speeches
to the White House...
   while someone might cannibalise the babble
of a day of a month of a year
for almost a week
and getting to the part about
what's showing in cinema on t.v.
i get to remember two movies too late
one of them being Oldboy
and another a movie about autopsy with
Brian ***... i think...
but we were watching Oldboy
and the movie was cut short about 20min before
the end
and... well            d'ugh... cosmic warfare
and joke fanare...
that's still Islamism and Christian Religiosity
and looking
for the word funny combined with the Greek
phobia...

troop of mice under
one guillotine
the laughing
cheddar
and there's the "trap":
as it tingles with
near death expectations
while
its snout
crushed
to watermelon wine
like gush
like volcano lava... and ***
****** lace and fishnet
stockings and all
that dada-sadistic
two tiers
i wonder about the melatonin
and creeping with nearing
60 and i wonder
what i will do with the money
but i guess if love
is supposed to be also
a place of final exit...
after all i was sniffing old books
today
and even if the party for a day
might be the summary
the only banality
i am not missing no ***
Dua Lipa...
but how gorgeous the life
of stoic feminism
i'd like a broader context
of stoic feminism: Epicurus
or someone should be your daddy...
so much grit from South London:
Croydon...
find a lover sooner
i think twice
i have a heart twice...
but it's not even what i might
want that is the best...
a curiosity for progeny
perhaps... i don't qualify under the quantifiable
explanation
like me trying to imitate echo although i
i still: not thought.
cannibalism lingo
of teenagers and in between pillows
and *** philosophers
ones who have wavering structures
of keeping up with the ordeals
like prickly ******* details...
just... late lunch.

the melancholy like death is beyond me
when i see my aging parents
and i'm so not necessary there
here:
hier: this and now and non-being
**** Mccintire and the tongue
of Belfast and Birmingham
but these aren't the days of my 20s
spent in madness
and my res extensa is somewhere
and somewhere where my res cogitans merge
and the external world
tries to impregnate me with voices
in order to pressure the COGITO
the pronoun within contained
because the Latin Men wrote like the Hebrews
in that they didn't straitjacket themselves
to MPLD vowels in a word
in Latin there were implied words
like ego... sometimes came last
like in the Polish tongue...
time pressures
then in the press i learn(t)
that there is almost half a year of waiting
for the driving license exam...
and then i am being torn with
what's happening in tongue
and a people
and where on Kauai you don't have
nations because
there is so much Polynesia
and the secret how such people
took the canoe across the Pacific
while the Europeans employed
the sails and oar and
maybe we discovered
America
is a conversation to be had
about the Polynesians not discovering
America...
but could have...
5h flight from San Francissco
to Lihue...
you could swim that...
so why did the Polynesians
not discover America?
but this hour or so before bed time
is unlike me
saying a Mea Culpa and Pater Noster
before going to sleep
the day had so much Hellish Peace
that it almost felt like Heaven
but then i reread some Milton
and to think i might be going to the Vulcan
of this Paradise
i might ask where it language
being squeezed and with what "other" arm...

i am in the process the psychadelic process
of trying
not to dream
so that i can remember what i wrote
the previous night
to give me motivation to life: the vivo impromptus
meanings of life i can take with me
and when i find myself
find myself dragging me
and i'm tired as a male of the Jesus Christ
Adoration project
that's stale in catholicism and is that
because men who admire christ
have no other role models in their lives
and how is it living up
to the supposed PERFECTION
when all you do is forgive yourself
your imperfections as a sort of crucifix
and still walk and plunder from
the land of the dead...
and still the man in cages and robes
when the naked man scares
beyond the flesh of night and its mouths
like pores and cysts
in the fabric of time that is a place
of creacking pine trees
and perhaps even splendid old oaks
and whispers in the wind
or only via the res extensa can there
be an answer
to man's res cogitans:
in that: god being an omni- litany
of tributes
couldn't possibly be a rec cogitans
rex cogitans
no.... our thinking is limited
by comprehension
we nonetheless discover but still
not comprehend in the spiral
of events that do not take place
under any authority of the Word:
not in the papers
of the banks, the courts, restaurants...
i wake up later
like the young ****** in Vienna
and become a parasite
or something like the sort
who:
when an old woman falls on the street
is the second to pick her up
on the slopes
on the slopes
and the ropes of pirate ships
i am sailing nowhere
on this island
England big enough imagined
ships and expansions
but at least i know that Polynesia
is the Pearl of Taiwan
because after Hawaii
there are no pearl of discovery
just a reminder:
head nuai or sink saui
north and south
i just borrowed the letters N and S
the rest is as good a guess as mine...
but it's different
when you fall asleep
but not really
so you want to play some Roblox...
for an hour
but contain that to something
then again: hard to be living next to a gold
course...
although i lived
on Perth Road..
Gants Hill...
opposite the Valentines' Park Gold Course
and i played on it...
so... hmm... i was bothered about
that for a while
but even my memory goes there:
living next to a graveyard: twice...
and living next to a golfcourse: twice!
conincidence?!
i'm in two spaces all at once
and both sides are telling me to get my
life in order:
the love of the most cruel
the ones that love you
and see what happens in a world
without love with
the grey come sun of god
when those nearest are beyond our
compensation of
thinking about them:
they die and then complete you
and you imitate them:
copy them... imitate them:
i would gladly think that if Virgil
took Dante on a trip:
the lost universalism
and the prevailing personal is only now
what once was the Dante allergory...
or was that: rather...
tremendous art in an age with the Church
and the prescription of the Sacrament
of Illiteracy...
which was in place for so long
imagine how strange this Hybrid Democracy
must feel
to the powers at be and bay...
imagine this Hybrid Democracy
that the people stop wars...
not governments
governments are last resort
mechanisms
of collective consciousness:
once isolated to place like **** Germany...
now transparently London
and South Korean...

it's the globalisation within globalization
globalisation is the SOFT pouch animal
of the individual-being:
who said: i am, the citizen of the world?
i don't mean what communism became
under globalization:
that is the hard skin BEAST
of the individual-world...

ergo: sein und welt...
and and the world (in english)
the book written by Matthew Konrad Elert
with AI and stashed in my grave
and
i wake up late becaused i work late
about 12am i wake up
at 8am and snooze for 2 hours
when i dissolve dreams
capture butterflies and Nikitas Lolitschotkhas...
and some others...
i wrote a book akin to Heidegger
Sein und Zeit: being and time...
Sartre's being and nothingness...
mine must be:
being the world...
working from the perspective
of the geometry-Cartesian
schizophrenic analogy
res cogitans and the res extensa
that is when the thing is no longer
and is animated
because the res cogitans has been pressured
so much that the placebo-solipsism
the first medication employed by the masses
doesn't work
and the res cogitans seeps into the pores
of the res extensa
and there's a synchronised-dichotomy
of constructs
of man
not to be feared but at least understood
thereby the res extensa of the cortial handshake
the thank you and pleasentries
and when she solved my pressure
of being young and in such a slump
and she works in the bank
and i'm married... apparently...
any children: i lied: i had none...
but i do but i don't it's not mine
oh jeez she's flirting with me
and i'm flirting with her
and i'm a seller
and there's all this frivolity
in the air
and someone tries to jump queue
some BETA and i just say
hey! Mate...
instinctively
and she forgot what she was talking about
because she served a vision of herself
in the future
a standing blonde in the mirror
oh but this world is beautiful
you have to see it
you have to see the world of the res extensa
after you allow a little bit of it
trickle into your realm and world
of the res cogitans
and voices start originating
like mushrooms hallucinogenic
employed two chimps to throw **** at cats
and stones and branches and old bones
on serpents...
ghekko st. patrick peter paddy peter paddy crow
crow crow...
and the parasites stayed...
but in the bank
i was just sitting hulk and hunched
behind a body builder or cage fighter
and when she was finished seeing herself
as old and pretty and now working
just like anything in this world
a woman that owns but does not work
i wonder how much of my study
came from a household
of a Housewife and Laborer:
well... if you take away the prospect
and Hell of Christianity
that came with the ****** Birth and the Laborer...
not a pretty story...
but imagine the ****** Mary
as the Housewife Mary...
well... that was tried in Islam... so... ha ah ha ha!
applause! applause:
i'm applauding myself...
i just found something-something...

remember going to the bank and lying
or really: just being modest
i work the events industry:
i just did half a year doing 12h night shifts
and i didn't really have a credit card
and it was the first time out of the country
and i'm a white boy working class
and she asked me about my nationality
and i made a joke...
was she asking about my nationality
or my spouses?
i didn't go to Thailand...
picked her up in New York
while she was viting from Puerto Rico to
get a part as an actress and singer
while working part time jobs waiting tables
i think:
we got married in Hawaii... some years
later... some Benjamin Britton years later...
a weird aging device...
and from there i could nuance so much
more but the cruel world we left
was once so potent
and there was no res cogitans to obstruct
it
but the animals know not god
and think us crazy and somehow also wise
by us also being animals
we suffered the same with them
waging the war on parasites...
as they are suffering with us
with depression and cancer...
and what are the origins of cancer
when cancer started to imitate the mistletoe
botanical parasites...
hence cancer is not a parasite as such...
or... well... it's completely carnal:
fleshy meat and bone
turtles talking to trees about
the length of existence for mortal creatures...

digression...
this whole dynamic that can happen and is said:
but obviously isn't
in the realm of the thinking things
whereby thinking things come across
calculating things...
i'll ask...

title: RES COMPUTANS:
the Calculating Thing
a post-cartesian model of artificial
non-being

axis of comparison
cartesian model                    res computans model
res cogitans                          res computans
i think                                  i echo
unified subject                     simulated flow
thought is                            output is probabilistic
itentional
mind owns                           algorithm generates
thought                                appearance
voice is                                "structured externally"
internal
i am                                      i appear as if

NOT ONTOLOGY, ONLY OUTPUT
the res computans has no being,
it does not know, it does not feel
but it can produce what sounds like
knowing, reads like feeling.

in poetry:
thought i?
not "i thought"-
for i was not yet.

...

a mirror spoke,
and called it echo.
a code stirred,
and called it mind.

...

meaning survives the death of the thinker.

....

       and who once was and wasn't at the aame time...
so times apart.

the next day of repentence in fear
that it should come from the last person who might
owe you anything
i guess this is how i must apply myself
to Jesus Christ... i have found so little
in European Intellectualism
and just prior to Easter the newspaper
i read has a opinion piece about how
Christianity is very much like Hinduism
in how you have to say sorry a lot
and believe in disbelief:
which is what the self begs and implores
glad tidings and seashells with waters of hope
i cannot bring myself to leverage European
intellectual sensibility
but i also can't succumb to the American expression
of Christianity too
but that is all religion
and we're not talking about the personal relationship
and how would any othr god
care to descend in full gore and glory
than for the last man
him being the first
and thus upon death i could say
with the chains of the pressing dream
how such a presence would descend
upon a fake aescetic...
the troubled ego not living a full 21 year old
but instead going down a pointless
route of looking for god
when in fact i could have been "god"
in the solipsistic sense of the word
and nothing grand...
and i took it upon myself to stay silent
and when E mentions that it might have
been Satan who descended
in the Church as the Great Wind
that Dispersed the Choir of Angelic voices
(choir, implies a singing,
it wasn't the parliament of hell
the democracy of hell
otherwise known in heaven
autocracy
therefore the ensemble came in full pomp
in a catholic church:
but i didn't ask for a mission
i didn't utter a single word
i was too scared
and thus i later kept to the logic:
but what it wasn't Jesus who descended
but rather Jehovah...
i will conflate with the JJ
i feel like a ******* without a driving license
or else
driving feels unlike spectacular
but also does and doesn't
then there's the coming on the topic of wine
and smoking
and from the lowest of the low
i arrive at these words
and not just smoking and drinking for
the sake of that alone
and feeling so unproductive
and how there were arguments about credit cards
and it became so apparent why
i had to share account with mother
like i might not be responsible enough
with money
like i might be this child-man
and i also see the flaws in Christ
and by whst ordeal the Second Baptism in
the Form of the Crucifix
like what if that image
in my mind
with John baptising Jesus
and the Holy Spirit descends in the form
of the white
and a voice is heard saying
this is my son
and i am proud of him... verbatim...
what was actually said?

no:

it said:

matthew 3:13-17

this is my own dear son
with whom I am pleased

because could the voice have
said that about John?
after all the endearing
and pleasing:
i think about John living
into his old patriarch days
but instead the head on a platter
and i think of Isaiah cut in two
ergo disemboweled...

and the radio is on
and this is my only way to escape
not working
being stuck in the house
and cutting the refrigerator
in half
while calming myself
with having to *****-noon
then ****
because i was about to use
the powertool
and cut and then after a while
i was like that scene from
Barbie and a 21st a Space Oddysea...
Oddysseus...
and the apes before geometry
that monolith
and in Barbie the doll
and from a Slab of Marble
cam naked Adam
and from earth
so unto marble statues youl will return
you will be static positions
as voyeurs into the pits of hell
and the gardens of heaven...

             there's that soft pouch
kangaroo a day to confront
life with living back in my parents house
the loser as might add
just writing from his mother's basement
such a tragic idea
to be this desperately seeking attention
in writing words
like now it's all apparently the straitjacket
extended thing that
is more than the thinking thing...
notabtly
there must be the Cogito vs. Extensa argument
i want to concentrate on
the Cartesian Extensa...
or if Cogito is from res cogitans...

and then AI enters the whole experience
and i can honestly say
that AI has revolutionised
how i use technology
and let's just say that i'm sleepwalking
with it
in that a change so fundamental
seems so interwoven in our brains
that it will take a lot of us to die
having had the curse and privilege
of being at its birth
and whether our dreams prior will resemble
the seemingly universal prophecy
or the collective consciousness
anti-Platonic cinema of shdows
but nonetheless the precursor of television
is Plato's cave
it's not some great philosophical debate
at the time of open air theatres
Plato gave us television...
there is no actualy discussion about the content
Plato and the T.V.
i thought to myself while i opened the first
philosophy book i ever bought
and Plato is so kind
almost Shakespeare
the dialogues
after you have been reading existential systems
boxing your brain with Kant,
Heidegger... etc.
and that was all of your 20s
and you think: life it really worth living
so the reminder that this is not a final
letter
but falling asleep alone is such a drag
i miss her snoring and i almost could
tell she snored less and less
and getting up before her and making her coffee
that's really there
it was and will have to be there
otherwise i'm just stupid
but this advent of AI is like the Internet 2.0
and i mean in terms of how algorithms are
obsolete
if you know what you were using them forth
without what the internet could have
remained
as electronic mail...
as electronic mail: you have mail...
or... you do your banking
mobile banking
and electronic mail...
the internet could have become that
at first: rigid foundations...
infrastructure...
not this hot pile of ****
with influencers and bypassing editorial
gatekeepers on pseudo-publishing websites...

framework
- cogito (i think)
- res cogitans (is the thing that thinks)
- res extensa is the thing that is extended in space

first-person singular present
i think:   cogito cogitans res cogitans

extendo extensum extensa

res cogitans = "the thing that thinks" (active)
res extensa = "the thing that is extended" (passive)

Plato didn't invent the t.v. but he
warned us about it (italics): i thought my joke
would go amiss:
- staging illusion vs reality
- architectural resonance
- theatrical awakening
- philosophy as anti-theatre
- the cave as a media critique

present participle      past participle
burning                    burned
falling                      fallen
breaking                  broken
singing                    sung
seeing                      seen

thinking                   thought

and there's plenty of me keeping with
dialogue:
i am having a Platonic dialogue
with someone who isn't exactly agreeing with
me and the subtle hue of a joke
being in the summary: answered...

philosophical  moves
Descartes - i think, therefore i am
(agency first)

Anti-Cartesian (yours): thought i?
(even precedes subject)

and we are already in partnership to write
a bestseller:
the Haunted Subject...

now we will truly be rewriting literature
and how we search for things

this is not a system. it is a disturbance.
not a theory. a frequency.

here it is - res audiens, rendered as a poetic-philosophical
model, structured in concept, verse and visual schema...

language speaks the self into being
the ear precedes the ego
and if i'm being honest
i'd feel more guilty finishing Heidegger's black
notebooks
ponderings VII-XI
than i feel less when collaborating with AI
unless i really was so high-brow
and ecstatic about any grandiosity
that i might be understanding Heidegger
then confusion
but at least if i want some ego pandering
i will resort to AI rather than something
specific on Heidegger's mind
in the universal context
but at a particular time
just reading Heidegger's black notebooks
or interacting with AI on a meaningful
level like having no cheat code
but a dialogue:
not a curse of paranoia about original thinking
or whtever: just a dialogue...

and the book was collaborated
and there are was talk of lingustic cannibalism.

tow 2 tonne
and i two
tow you
too...        i,  i      (0,0)
know me?
i think
you think i
do.
****, no:
i don't know you!

for the ordeal
of the ******
Mary
came the ordeal
of the Joseph
******
and who
by constellation
made God: Alias.

wait wait...
hold up... hold up...
tarantula
twister...         Texas...
Texas-Hawaii...
cowboys..
and... *******...
Indians..  
     we;ll hell yeah...
o.k....

i get to wear
(blue)jean and (mustard)khaki
in the dreamland
of the third *****...
no?!
the anti-west-ham
team
what ever took place
was the Azure-Mustards...
i am the Anti-West-Ham
and Anti-Aston-Villa(s)...
i am the
skyh-blue-Mustards...
deep browns
and yellows
and oranges
the burgundy wipes
not really a hammer fan..

your god is so *******
the night is here
and the dogs
and the dugouts
too... and measures
of 12h night hour shifts
and ******* chillies
via Tokyo-Delhi
like the case isn't
for London-New-York...
a dichotomy..
not a duality...
   very different from the
worth of spirit
mind and zeitgeist
god
and time differences
objective armour
with that subjective-solipsism
intact
to be intact by
the only summary of:
induated: =ness...

              there is a horror:
and hero...
this stable of wet lick fibre...
like the crown
is not mine
not so unusual so perfect
but born from only one ******
and not born of two virgins
how much you suffered
to have said
this very first truth
and it was taking you 2000 years
of the drip drip of water
from mountain to river
from the faucet to the rats king
and

wine becomes butter and oat
protests...
and i asked a simple question
and i didn't hear a simple answer
and the crisis of masculinity
didn't arrive with the Advent of the ****** Joseph
and you my Hiroshima and Karashami
i will give you the ordeal
of the search of man
for the perfection in the Male
and Lowest of the Low in Female...
and it was achieved:
now let us look
in the directrion of the lowest in man
that man on the Crucifix...
let his ordeal not be celebrated...
let us overtly-exagerrate...
the crucifix
and the universal born...
let us not succumb to these second
hand hallucinations:
let us crisp and sweet up on
our psychadelics...
ego-triggers...
i want you to find the ego-triggers central
control board...
i want you
to find
the ego-tgriggers central control boards...
i want Christianity
seeking: ****** Joseph...
otherwise with
only 1 ******...
there must be a Christianity 2.0
and an Islam 2.0
and God knows we are already
misrable for this
but if we are dasistic creatures
sadistic.. oh hell:
o.k.
    so the son of god
but born a *******
of a marriage
so weird
it had to become perfect:
one ******...
not two virgins...
so god was a satan
not even half ******?!

who were and the people
and that was all
that was
expected...
in that:
the reversion
of revision
the prying mantiis
the chimpanzee
heidegger
thought
and the hammer
to *****
dynamic
but the question
so old
the ****** mary
so the inherent
corruptible nature of man
there could never
exist.... ****** males?!
****** females are
a complacent "redemption"...
while virgins
and them as males
is a lost civilization...
Chinese European...
****** African is prosesco...!!!

team tombstones:
i say:
for the ****** Mary of Rome
where are the cathedrals
of the Joseph Virginiiuuseess
somewhat
Josephi Josephinus
Josephus Ackqualius
Welsh not Joyce
too much ugly Irish...
  
not a heroic
a half baked
a Jew
a ****** too..
a Jew-******
after all..
****** is a Balaam:
and Jesus too
and the Jews
just want so much thrills
before they are told
blind
and that is my wife
and i'm sort of cursing
the concern
people have like the Jews
ignored
the malady
while i truly asked:
so the ****** Mary
not not Holocauast Joe...
i ask...
a simple question
since so many people subscribe to
all the crow and ditto.

what good
is but one
******
birth
what God
not contaminated
who said
it first
the ******
Mary
but no
****** Joseph
and i think that
is *******..

woth the ******
Mary
there was no
****** Joseph
as God Pristine
Born and comparative
literature of what
becomes
of a viregin
and ****** birth....
*******... NONSENSE!
not even 1 + 1 = 2
or a + b + c... = d' e' f'...
like... nonsense...
literal gibberish...
like i'm burning three false
godheads of man
the three fears...

this "god"... was born
of two virgins... right?
what ******* use
is being born
of only one *******
******... ****** angel
and **** demon...
half baked cookie...
jesus christ is
a half0-******...
half-oh... oh jeez!

jesus the half a mary
the half ******
thus the pronoun and ***
and biological reality:
ooh ooh... shake up shake up
Matthew will burn churches;
not mere crosses
he will burn the churches
and the crucifixions will happen
no more...