as i am too old to learn anew,
so am i, too young
to learn bound to being staged:
having to learn afresh:
call this the thesaurus
proximity, the nearing of 0°
basis for geometric
denial, that no shape form:
other than one:
that be the linear "escapism"
of history, wholly linear
and never contorting,
encapsulating, and likewise releasing
back into the regurgitation
of the void.
  
which had superfluous kings for messengers;
and eunuchs for the party of five
of men who desired to keep harems...

i own no obligation to my genes,
as i might oblige the gut bacterium
the next host,
what is this? this profanity?
why am i owning an allegiance
to genes?
  what sort of allegiance is this?
this abomination?!
    
i abhor darwinistic reductionism!
i hate it! i hate it as much
as ancient greek abhorred
moral relativism!
the two are alike! i don't have what
you say!
recite, quote, or argue with!
darwinistic reductionism is:
just as abhorrent as moral relativism!
no no no, no!
   i ******* hate it!
i don't give two-***** worth of
a ***** martini's worth of acting
the bond part... no!

i own nothing of my ego's existence
to translate into: "passing on"
my genes...
  what are you, some vegetating
comatose athlete,
or the parkur with weak knees
and other joints?
what? what! what?!

      darwinism has to have an ugly
medusa head on the hydra,
and it's darwinistic reductionism:
the ancient greeks abhorred
moral relativism:
      me? being modern?
i abhore darwinistic reductionism,
because it equates itself to
moral relativism...

genes... the **** i care about my genes
being, or not being passed on?
i mean, should i really give serious concern
for this not being achieved?
really?
        really?!
       you have to be kidding me at this point,
genes translate into sentences,
make up words,
  make up a will...
the **** is important about genes?!

right now i can clearly see
heaven (amnesia & somnia)
& hell (nostalgia & insomnia)...

give me a break: it's much simpler than
fire and fluffy meringues...

they keep pushing this populist darwinistic
reductionism: i swear i'm going to crack...
darwinistic reductionism creates the vacuum,
that states:
    darwinistic relativism is not the right hand
of atheism:
    after all, there are no absolutes of
       a. there is and b. there isn't...
hence the space-time compedium:
there's time, but there isn't time within
time-space, that might make it indistinguishable from
space, and so in the thesaurus reverse...
might as well call it the close-contact
space=time: not so uncommon in chemistry...
esp. with carboxylic acids:
  
     i abhor what the ancient greeks abhorred:
moral relativism,
since a status quo necessitated itself out
ouf a per se impetus to encompass both,
rather than a robotic one-sidedness "perfect"...

but what the modern hasn't learned to abhor
is darwinistic reductionism...
    it's almost a secondary formulation of
theology, with the missing poetry...
i abhor darwinistic reductionism...
    what? genes? is that an argument?
am i really about to care about passing
    on my genes?
you have to give me a ******* break,
you really think this form of anglophone
existentialism is going to convince me?
bad luck, i'd sit with a francophone for
10 hours in a cafe talking *******,
over coffee and cigarettes...
   with an anglophone though?
i'd have to drink a litre of ***,
******* 10 times in a row...
    wipe my *** until i rubbed my ****
to reach the point of scrubbing
off accents of blood,
  read an act of shakespeare,
listen to some **** pop music...
     talk to his grandmother...
  and then: "consider" the option
of a 10 hour stretch of convo...

it happens all the time:
with entho-nationalist centralism...
you really can, exhaust an idea if you
cite it too many times, and for long enough
as to make it:
educational,
  i.e. boring, i.e. indoctrinating...
   which is what darwinism has become,
sadly enough; boring, indoctrinating,
this ******* should remain in schools,
not among public "intellectuals".

There once was a ***** old sailor

Who's ship he began to abhore

The sails wouldn't budge

They moved like a sludge

Until a maid handed him an oar

Are your goals incentive
To get you through your life
Is the end result a good one
Can you share it with your wife
Is it worth all of the struggling
To put up with the muddling
Of folks you just abhore
Of folks you'd soon ignore

Are your children on the sidelines
While you work away your years
Are they just collateral damage
As you work on through your fears
Do you ever think you'r losing them
That you may just be abusing them
Those children there
Show them you really care

Is it time to take a back seat
As you ride upon lifes train
Time to hand over the driving
Or are you to proud to abstain
Do you want to end up all alone
Go and throw the dog a bone
You're almost there
Nobody really cares

Take a step and join them
They're the ones you should support
Give up all the overtime
Or you'll end up in court
A lonely, hopeless businessman
Who always does the best he can
All alone
There's nobody left at home

Share your time with work and family
As you make your way along
Don't forget to hear the music
Don't forget to sing  the songs
It happens so **** easily
You only need to look at me
I stepped back
After a heart attack

Get priorities in order
don't forget just how to play
Don't put it on a bucket list
Go out and start today
The earlier you leave the race
The longer you'll be in this space
Come on...begin
The water's fine...now please jump in.

I looked upon the greats, and found nothing they didnt take from the pre-existing grates, that drained our goals into slates, degraded our souls into fakes, and mistook our traits as hate,  before we faded into an abatement for safetly, safely enslaving our notions as nations, from the oceans, they saved me ... made me ... who I am.

But nothing is sacred anymore
Only deplorable horror
To numb the chores
Of that other lord
That the imaginitive ignore
Pretending to abhore
The things they cant feel anymore
But what for

There might be more to a coin flip than explored.

Intent and decent Vs stoical form

She saw him here today,
She tried hard to ignore,
Turning up like that,
With that ***** i so abhore,
My heart sinks low before her,
A brazen thief of love,
He gazes at her flauntily,
But it's me he's thinking of,
Her power over him is rife,
If only he could see me,
I'd win him back in one wink,
If from her grasp he'd flee,
I want his body nightly,
My loneliness gets worse,
Just one more moment with my love,
And i could break this curse.

You can hate me,
Abhore me,
Never text and ignore me,
I will never walk away.

You could double cross,
And cheat me,
Even mess around and beat me,
I will never walk away.

You have built a wall,
To shun me,
I'm as patient as i can be,
Please don't make me walk away.

In your dark moods,
I still love you,
And i thank the good lord for you,
Please dont make me walk away.

Shut me out ,
And never mind me,
Please be the man behind me?,
I'm trying not to walk away.

After all is said and done we,
Can make or break our destiny,
Let's together,
Walk away?? I Love You .............

get your ***** ******* grubs off of me,
i am not going to bargain
a cartesian dualism with the notion
that the body can overcome the mind
with exercise gimmicks:
you, *******, guinea nimwit!
        i used to slap my grandfather's
sheen on a bold, but otherwise
bald cranium for jokes,
  and flick his remaining hairs into
the air to reveal a hidden jack
nicholson, i also called the police
and had him institutionalised with
psychiatric aid, for throwing my
grandmother through a glass door and
breaking her arm...
       me?! you'll get more
apologetic "nuance" about drinking
from a priest than from, me!
         i turn ugly, silently,
       i just abhore this antique deal
with descartes,
               i don't know why why that
the body can overcome the mind...
or why blankety-blank trivia is to solve
the matter...
or whether pumping iron helps...
      by this point i''m not writing:
i'm coal-mining, i'm digging...
               the body, however perfect
will not unravel the problems of the mind,
attaining body antics perfected only
stalls the otherwise still present:
problems of the mind.
                       toxicology reports read:
adrenaline *****.
             sebastian mc'queer miss-match
between a cocktail waitress,
  a ******* bunny and a bartender named:
shteeve.
                 ******* waste of time
by my rubric of arithmetic...
  but at least ben affleck wasn't the worst
batman,
      we all know that george clooney was.
we have finally arrived at a loss
of mind-body dualism,
   we have achieved a dichotomy,
finally!
       we can, for the first time,
fathom clear segregating posits,
indicators,
                    membranes!
whatever noun you use -
                 the joke about schizophrenia,
is that it's not a joke concerning
        premature depression -
premature depression is more unusual
than premature dementia -
      there's the bicimeral theory
to begin with...
           unless of course you're dealing
with snowflakes who want languaage
as rigid as possible,
      readied for the acceptance of it,
like any type of i.k.e.a. put it together,
yourself, manual...
the mundane aspect of the whole affair
only breeds a gagging effect,
like choking on a 12" **** with your nose
pinched-shut,
  ******* disgusting;
  if i really wanted to draw a straight line
i wouldn't necessarily obligate language
to latex ******* *******...
           i'd be the one
adding oil to the fire, and wanting
unadulterated chaos,
  before the hell-fire focus of: inferno...
for language is just that:
   i abhor the term poet,
i prefer the term...
                               pyrotechnician...
i do not write poetry:
   i cement myself in pyrotechnics.
    i abhor this dualism -
            this notion that a sick mind can
be mended by being worked on by
a invigorated body,
      or that a sick body can be mended by
being worked on by an
invigorated mind...
   odd... to have such vehement emotions
surrounds a mere idea...
that there is no mind-body dualism,
but that there's a mind-body dichotomy...
and that there's only a mind-mind dualism
that, given the cartesian concept brideges
upon the res extensa: the extended thing,
whereby the mind-mind dualism
disintegrates when the notion of a, soul,
is involved / invested in,
perhaps as concrete rubric, or perhaps
as a mere cognitive, hobby...
  let us simply add:
   there are those who bow and pray and
pay due diligence to a god...
  while others, neither procrastinate themselves,
nor day allegiance to a, deity -
for there is so much more involvement in
entertaining the thought of a...
deity...
             and these cognitive
acrobatics never allow for a yawn
to be present, in their ritualistic endeavours,
with due need, or due, cause.

p.s. i think people really underestimate
schizophrenics, the abnormality of it
is fascinating...
      as is the case with the endeavour of
finding a soul, or as i like to call it:
the osmosis of psyche overpowering the mind,
and creating a mind-body dichotomy
rather than enforcing a mind-body "dualism"...
psychosis.
                   it's a shame how people
under-appreciate a mind-mind dualism...
a dualism, split, yet nonetheless whole...
     cf. julian jaynes...
                      but what isn't fascinating
is premature depression...
   that's just plain ******* tragic...
i can understand depression in old people,
who have actually accomplished something
in their lives...
but when it concerns youngsters?
completely unfathomable and
                    uninteresting to me,
on the basis that it's so abnormal that
it's suicidal and completely averted to
the otherwise schizoid exploratory tendency
of reintegrating a disintegrating form
of language structure... perhaps that's
a post-modernist statement...
but the "sane" always cite
being perplexed by language that's:
   non-instructive; b'aah b'aah...
******* herds, do we always have to whip
them into submission and cohort?
  yes, yes, the open end hyphen grammar
   -cohort-, that's transcendental grammar,
it's not supposed to be a noun,
rather, an adjective by-and-of-itself
revealing of the submissive character of
strict, military, discipline!
my ambition was never to write
a ******* i.k.e.a. manual for a: do it yourself
take on a folding chair!

With its roots embedded in the ground
The plant gains its vitality
Nourishments painstakingly climbs
Reaching its peak
The blossoming of the flowers
With the canopy shouting out loud

Aren't we all just trees
Rooted yet not literally grounded
Trading the rugged roads
With occasional stumbles
Refusing to fall.

We know the ground too well
It's where we came from
As we shine
Lest we forget what it means to us

Big power has took hold again
Lies paraded as half truth
Discernment has been lost in the process
Theirs hearts opened up to manipulation
Hatred fills their hearts
Through long standing acquiescent norm

Arise from the slumber
Power abhore vacuum
Greatness shall thrive in goodness
Lest we forget the root
It never ceases to bring wonder
To those who chose to stand their ground

numb to reality
trying to defy mortality
you just sit around and wait
like a lost cause
banging at the gate
depending on fate
that against all odds
you'll get a message from your false gods
and rise from the dust
forgetting the difference
between ambition
and lust
hoping to embark on a mission
unaware that it'll be defficient without trust
so go with the flow
surrender all that you know
bend with the status quo
or bust
wait no
break out of this vicious cycle
in order to leave
you must understand
whats at hand
disband
from your troops
come to realize that what your fighting for
is a lost cause
behind a closed door
you cry out for more
living for the sensation
its reality that you abhore
stand still
filter your thoughts
distill
stay focused
on this hocus pocus
dont let the walls break
or out the truth will pour
to mix with your recognition
distorting fiction
creating contradiction
friction
a cure to your addiction
between you and yourself
you eagerly welcome
input from anyone else
all that you've become
is shaped from someone
with the worst intentions
you against the world
you can taste the tension
but your taste buds have the day off
so does your comprehension
its paid no attention
fitting into the mold
surrendering to your surrounding's hold
obey
do what you're told
the price has been bartered
you've been bought
and sold
the return policy
your last breath
held captive for life
untill your encounter with death
tests and trials
evaporate any denial
that could hide beneath your pleasent smile
simmering below is a truth so vile
baracaded and shut deep down in your conscience
lies the fact
that your unconsious
its on the tip of your tounge
but never mentioned
i guess that makes you
society's invention

This depression gives the impression

that the expression of a burnout is…

me

living and loving intently free

prison depends on jailhouse babies and legal **** ; weee!

we must organize expression of a quantum size, to re-realize more food and supplies

its such a surprise that id be thinkin this, engineering instruments with a pnuematic hiss

geared towards the questioned technocolypse….

“…well here on the graph we read an elipse, a parabola, and a demonic kiss…”

But whats this?

im’ channeling some quick quips ; alluring as a brothel’s contained hips with the open smile of sideways lips….

my daring is preparing all the world for destructive repairing

cause the frogs and the rains are staring

at this desolate earth

a burnt out hearth

with smouldering ashes, speaking of a crying birth

while the midwife is sick and shy with little self worth and curse; because a as a witch she doth rehearse

while the moonlights smiling and the phones texting and dialing

“Whats wrong?”==”Are you ok?”

“…but come on?”==”Is there any other way?…”

[please oh please let me stay in this old and bloodied fray; where the battles had axes and handles

where there were stories of travels, to faraway places leading to exotic geographic stasis]

caught in the moment of thought, a moment of fright…

until we stop and put a light to these wierd words

we wont know what the birds have heard….

Click crshhh….*

BURN little match like the wood you are!

combustion of suggestion set ablaze from afar

a flame throwers burned hands

while the pained sower , frustrated, changes plans

because in the end one one really understands

the torment of a floment spent eternally alone in atonement.

(=purgatory)

Where all you want to do is get on the phone, external validation felt at the tone,

but it really ain’t ****

because you are crying while its dialing and your out of minutes…

so check this bits of imaginary meaning and ****

ponder and quit

when you seek to make amends and introduce fake men to our imaginary friends

i keep on thinking…keep on blinking

wishing for emotion to extend

SO I think the words

AND I write whats heard

but haven’t YOU heard

from the little ittie birdie whos been certainly flying, singing and free

that im not mentaly sturdy, quirky, and ******…

LOGICALLY

iknow

sophistry

ishow

emotionally

Hol…………­……………loW

I guess it just goes to show that when you at home your never reallly  alone, because to you, the voices do drone
about

how much sandpaintings and ***** can be blown,….

away with a CLICK…BoooM

beaten with a stick….AH

shoed a away with a kick….

START my heart! I know better than this!

so I better think quick

before i stay mentally sick

as an alien who has forgotten it’s world

got on a roller coaster; spinned and whirled

till im spun and twirl’d

on this game we call life, with simple **** and complex hype,

hives of concepts meanings and thoughts….to derive daily quit failing

i miss haley :( , even phailee….

so I ask little voice in my head , since everyone has left will you stay instead?

come a little closer and hop into bed

so we can share the warmth of one last self-referencing infinity loop….

…..BEFORE i wake up and forget whats ashore

because im out at dream sea with clouds free and galore

but as soon as i stop thinking i know ill return to the me that i abhore

with pain and saddness deranged

omit school so classless and strange

as a failed out actress sick with mange.

but i know these negatvie moments are just flashes , to make me appreciate self motivated happiness…

so here you go

its me on the page, skelly the sage….

i just hope to god that I could set the stage 4 nirvana or heaven, we reach zion in seven

6

5

4

3

2

1

I love you.

Its over

i won myself over

like a sad kids redrover

thanks for letting  m3 share these freestyle thoughts i kant bear

im  alone no more, i seem to have exhausted my sadness store

and after venting i realize…. its a lot ******* bettor.

“Isn’t it eeeire howletting yourself feel sad

can make you feel soo much better?”

Ouroboros is its own meal

The same is true with

Those from own country that steal!



To humstrung the incumbent

Most party members are not hesitant.



Ouroboros,they adore their party,

Which they obliviously or

Otherwise sully with

A rent-seeking identity.

They adore the incumbent

Yet they spell nation's

Slow but sure death

Siphoning budget earmarked

For  infrastructure,education,

Agriculture and health.



They adore their party

That took power

But with a deadface

That lets them, with

Nation's wealth, take a shower.



They adore their party,

However with their bureaucratic logjams,

Create on nation's developmental

****** encumberance.

Yet they entertain

A wild dream

Their party could

Let the country

Forward advance.



They support their party

As a Scare (self-defeating) tactic

Sees better

For social justice

Requesting demonstrators

To scatter

Shooting one or two

With a ******.

'cause what they enunciate

"We adore"

Citizens abhore

Marking it stifling and "a bore".



Worse still

Barefaced they entertain

No shame or fear

Using  'public media'

"I **** thee

Because I love thee!"

To din in people's ear.//

Whatcha know
About chastity
I don’t need a belt to
Be loyal
Feel royal
love  ain’t gotta be
A battle royale

Everyone’s an attention *****
Publicity is adored
I abhore your BS
Get away from
My doorstep
My patience
Has a threshold
That you’ve crossed

I ain’t *******
For a ******* dime
If you wanted a mime
Here’s a rhyme instead
I won’t wish you dead
I’m not that petty
I live practicing abstinence and chastity
For many reasons
Chief among them the fact that’s it’s more  of a challenge when compared to sleeping with someone. Secondly, the challenge of living such a lifestyle pays off, mostly because it’s harder to get yourself broken  when you don’t open yourself up to false and momentary since of connection.