Atheism - Flat out denies the existence of a God.
Agnosticism - Claims God is unknown or  cannot be known.
Deism - A belief that God created the world of vegetable life, animal
              life and human life than left all, especially human life, to
             their own devises.
Humanism - A belief in the power of human reasoning apart from
             any Deity.

I quote a friend, now with the Lord, who said, "When one's view point  of God is wrong, generally their viewpoint of life is wrong."
         Lately, all these mass killings  proves my friends
         comments to  be true.The fear of God is not in the
         heart of Crews; if it was he and all the other killers
         would not have gone on a killing rampage.

Romans 3:15- 17 describes Crews and all the others like him as "Having feet swift to shed blood; destruction and misery are in their way; there is no fear of God before their eyes."  

My computer showed a person wearing a T-shirt with this message:
Student: "God, where were you when the mass killing happened in my school?"
God: "Don't you remember? I was banned from being in school."

I recently learned of an Atheist Club, open to Atheist only. You know what, if there is in fact "NO GOD" than why an Atheist Club? But
contrary to the Atheist claim that they do not believe in a god, they actually do, else Who  are they denying? I ask you, my atheist friends, isn't it kind of foolish to  form a club against  someone who doesn't exist in their minds?"


Wouldn't it be really foolish for me to form a club denying the existence of the ten planets simply on the fact that they have never seen them? I'm speaking as an atheist now.

I once worked with a man who claimed atheism as his religion,yet he took God's Name n vain every time something didn't work or he hurt himself. One day I called him on it and ask him-"Hey Rose Bud! if you deny the existence of God, why do you ask Him  to **** every thing  you don't like?" (I do not recall his answer)

Another thing that tattles on atheist that they do in fact believe in God, is what do they cry out when they are suddenly facing death?
"OH GOD  PLEASE SAVE ME!! Or they witness some horrifying
thing? What are the first words that come out of their mouth?
         "Oh my! How horrible!" ? No, You know they don't. They
           normally cry out, "OH MY GOD!"
  
Well I could write the biggest book the world has ever known proving that there are no true atheist. With these last few words
I paraphrase God's Word from Romans 1:25-32 explaining why their are men, women and young people who "changed the truth of
God into  lie" [claiming to be an Atheist] " not liking to retain God in their knowledge" [i.e.  having no desire to keep God in their conscious] "knowing the judgment of God is death" [i.e everlasting
punishment, suffering in the lake of fire] "never-the-less continue to
reject God [and do their own thing.]  -JH paraphrase from the KJV
                                          > Conclusion<
"Taking the position of being an Atheist is merely  a cover-up for
being rebellious against the authority of God  over  one's life.' -JEH

Colliding; the collusion of day and night
Of things co-exsisting, theirs,
Light and darkness.
Blazing across the ethereal plain
An arch angelic inferno.
Infinite is the horizon
Confluently coloured; eminence
Transforming smouldering heat.
An auric aureole interpenetrating diverse bi-unity,
Illuminative transcension igniting
The charcoal black vast depths of heaven, space.
The eternal perfection ordained, twilight
Zenith sense turbulent like the oceans tide
Anthropomorphic legions, lingering shadows
In the purgatory of mischievous children.
Blood gushing like emotions,
Sacraments ordained for sacrifice
Canonised; Sepulchre
Immortal legions mortal as the knell echoes
This side of paradise,
Heaven an altar
A church altar, rapidly retreating
As stars disperse like candles fading-
Sacrilegious; sepulchre
Of angels fallen.




1997 ELEETE J MUIR

Floating above the rifts of apperception I glaze over the gaudy faucets of imagined vector thrusts in hibernation by the lucubration of space-time materialized crystal in the somber beats of fetched farrago of choice slices in delicate hums of hemmed balance rantipole only in ethereal importance but otherwise supersolid above the sprauncy vagrancy of dilettantism. We shout a clarion virtuosity so that the conclamation of neovitalism conjures upon a spell of lapse and regress a motive for further crystallization of epidemiology into harmony with syndicated admonition sleek in design and parceled into renown by feats of completion rather than slugabed gregarious fountains of wasted ingenuity bleeding from the vacuum of an empty hearth in a hospitable dwelling otherwise cleared of imperfection. Right now, I levitate with transcendence with an approximated eidetic memory that is the surgical vibrancy of renewal rather than the chameleons of hidden talents buried by the walls of Jericho sounding tocsins of alarm that the anointed favor of choice destruction is only an encircled rapture of rhapsodies of confluence found in axiomatic truths ribbed with the futtocks of seaworthy but cauponate recidivism into the donnybrooks of apocryphal revelation preceding the whimsical fall of cascading permanence just as gravity so ordained it. We breathe the life of the ethereal numinous spirit of isangelous repute because we navigate the exquisite cobweb of reconciliation to surpass all understanding in peace what would be a miscegenated carcass of war otherwise apart from the incidental apartheid of the drones of causality ignoring the antecedent reality too much to register fathomed streaks of preventive endeavor because of the scars of a scrappy schlep of the rampicks of ecbolic servitude to moth-eaten star-crossed lovers of the mean menagerie of gutless succor renowned only in tepid rejections of harbingers bequeathed in succession but ignored because of the procession of “Billie Jean” politics.

   The citadel aflame with controversy buttresses carnality by witless contaminants of hidebound scaldabancos of ineffable destitution so craven in eisoptrophobia for their hypostasized indolent fatuousness of capitulation that they are but a minor punctuation in the largesse of centuries to favor audacity in candor over the prevarications of catastrophe to dented human pride against humane dictates of theodicy in fatalism that predestination experimented with its own vaulted verve to find permanent solutions engraved in the agrapha of time to solidify the redintegrated truth of God’s divine stewardship above the quisquilous deism of former regnant centuries of blench and blandishment. We revolt at the specter of rot only when the effluvia of disgust elevates the visceral reality above the utilitarianism of recycled prim nuisances of noisome lineage that yet balk because they are bereft of attention but not a vacant talent and therefore should the subsidies of man surpass the ignorance of appearances he will shrug of the demur of the scrimshank and sharpen his scrivello in the service of redemption found through cultivated prowess of gardens beneath where rivers flow above a cubic centurion of embattled visages of the heavens becoming the rampart for the vestigial clarity of Secret Masters to foresee the bypass that heals decadence and rebukes the formalism of puritan endeavor to sweat with exhaustive patience over the gossamer intertesselations of a ripe reality rather than a groveled fragmentary world shattered too much by exigent metanoia to mount the crenellated catchpole of vigilant enmity towards the stew of listlessness found in epigone and farce more than in organic fortunes. We flip the upheaval of society to squander our proportionate degrees of wealth on the necessity created by dire quandary which enamors by interrogations of pulchritude the verisimilitude of participle ivory dalliance of etched canvasses of simultagnosia for the librations of the liberated rings of betrothed liberation despite profound lurches of the mistetches of ignorance presiding dismally over the hulked disdain of glamborge rather than resselenque.

     The winter is a poor porcine glut of ciconine swelters because the prickly obtuse recoil of the delopes of caution find their permeable balance with a sort of photographic photosynthesis that braves the dearth of reprieve for the reprisal of nostalgic deeds found in the docimasy of riveted reflections because the preordination of God is the superlative champion of the witeless grandeval protectorate of infinite concepts guarded from the parvanimity even of the most strident minds squabbling over the braseros and battues of history as though those funereal stains of lachrymose regret outweigh the traditions of vaunted human progress because they are finicky about importunate pleas of subsidiary injustice rather than fulminations of the modern rebuttal to the disclaimers of an uneven history that shepherds the doubts of nihilism into ripe fruition at the expense of very expensive moral rot for the codlings of urbacity and mendaciloquence used to foment that tribalism of totemic justice. We see in Penuel the wrestling match of specters and heroic giants documented on the ageless pages and we notice the ironic twinges of struggle that kneaded the propriety of gentilian privilege that ultimately fostered an insurrection against chosen bravado among those that sear with zeal beyond the yordim afflictions of yobbery because the Jewish heart is stronger than any calamity even if it departs from the reverence of the colporteurs of the integrated syncretism of the attempted monolith that beseeches polyphiloprogenitive growth in mindset rather than in testy abeyance of forbearance because of known scrutinies into the tropology of wilted facts remanded by curious historicity that crumples without disdain when we memorialize the erasure of scepsis by modern standards of thaumaturgy.

    The minauderies of growth are a repositioned tacit allegiance to the untold fanfare and hearsay immunized against the broach of facetious levity to buoy discordant hearts above fumatoriums of relentless ignorance because coherent masterwork can be cobbled without such lapidary toil and toll on sincere affectations of wizened brevity. The seismic precautions for the forefathers of incidental convergences between expectancy and crystallized history are an ironic intortion of priorities because the heralds and tribunes matched the peerless foresight with the gerrymandered figments of apartheid between the imaginary and the real so that the delicate synchrony of events could unfurl a riveting carapace from the shells of protection even in amiable squalor for its impenitent attrition on the volleys of sensible rumor becoming fashioned in covert bedazzled errors in judgment leading to the triumph of the eventual civilization over the futtocks of the burial of the former trekleador of zenkidu belonging to provincial cadasters found so tucked in the hedges that discernment of frikmag would be an indelible scourge on the biognosy of the diagnosed endeavors that elapsed into remediated circumstances that brave the depths of deontological violation for the breadth of apportioned loaves and two swanky fish earning a place among the miracles of transcendent liberation from articles of decree imperious by sardonic disdain becoming nullified by the histrionics of a delicately staged orchestra that cements human achievement.

       We relish the frescades of a ruffled autumnal reminder of flourish above pothers of the screed of admonition swamped by nostalgic backtracks in the séance with ultimatum of design and the impregnated and carnal lusts of a world pitched in darkness with guarded lambent lights fomenting a perjury against tact for the deliverance of freedom in tacit agreement with owleries that every bonanza be tithed in their favor regardless of hibernation of spoilsports or their subsidiary remarks on indelible quills of invented manufactured realities we crave with desperation rather than cower from in requited nescience urging us to depart from affairs and stagnate the loyalty of fealty above the limber of utility mobilized above levities for solemn remarks and rejoinders. Promulgated above the robotic rubble of staffage haywire in wiredrawn contemplative resonance of tremulous subterfuge vestigial but immediate to the yardsticks of reprehensible malarkey, is the barnstorm for erratic dimples sauntered by the saunas of shelter above the chaos of ruined ginnels for the gimcracks of auxiliary duty to service, is the glorification of the sultry intimations of legions of remonstrance in guarded decorum about sunken atrocities lapsed in memorial to the incumbent brunt of sockdolagers of justice returning revenants from the bridewell of historical internment. The symphily of orchestras to cineaste symposiasts of surquedry in impudence beyond the brays of betrayal is the aborning mythos of regimented perceptions of a world that when magnified by minutiae appears starkly contrast to the gapped gubbertushed reality of the average patron of the arts to such an extreme gulf of receptive understanding that the qualia are dovetailed only in the swink of careful kisswonks to certify certitude itself when all the fragments coalesce into subjoined harmony to the substructures of inherent conscientiousness. The miracles at work that are vesicles and vessels for the swage of imprint above the loyalty of the imprinted tribunes of the fluminous is how hidden protrusions can emerge so victorious over popularized glazes on the pastures of a farmed culture itching for timmynoggies of innovation but only finding the etched remarks of pristine imagos of heroism dwindling in motivation to surpass the imaginative leaps accustomed to a newfangled laziness that bedazzles the guzzle of crowds but not the discrimination of the crowded morass of incompletion found in mosaics missing enigmatic philters of intoxicated love for the profound. So to be intermediary as a custodian for artistry we must cozen the wheedled imaginations not of the relic but the archaeologist that discovered the embedded prisms of attentive scrutiny for glinting sunshine inherent in troves of surpassed excellence beyond parochial sympatric blandishment of donnism rather than a resselenque that floats above demeanor to usher the cosseted age of treasure above the glib brocards and florews of past success.

      Immanent to the provisions of God as decreed from a syncretic reconnaissance of the pitiable gulfs that separate boundless divine love from the clavigerous potential for scrappy sympatric affiliation to **** through the barnstorms of internal comestions of conflated priorities we are ourselves prismatic in the indulgence of a tasty life sprinkled with zest rather than tempered with the vengeance of retorted animosity that we knead the pottery of ironclad resistance to a metallic conduit of pruned fulminations of unguided intuition so that the natural accord supersedes the goad of materialism for the sustenance of antiquity beyond its heyday for vital gains against the tauricide of panic and frenzy. The linchpin of all realistic attempts at the sympatric symphily of civilization is a guided remorse through the torment of affliction that sizzles without anteric barbs as it measures through engrenage how to pilot the vehicles of prosperity through the minefields of contingency that invisibly bequeath new hurdles and inestimable obstacles that collude surreptitiously to fulminate measured controversy against the backbites of restrained equipoise created by polities of the macadamized fabric of a welded smithy of a universe that with ubiquity proclaims above the senseless the harvest of conjugal repartee in sensible pride against militant bastions of incidental prejudice for a careen against the flyndresques of danger and the flyndrigs of glaikery alike for a humane spurt of enlightenment to tower peerlessly in supervision of entelechy created by esemplastic unity in apolaustic purpose. We cannot be puritans engaged in a pilgrimage to a palimpsest of priggishness because the daring elements of adventurism are necessary ingredients to catalyze the supply-chain of the innate gluttony of ego-seeking endless balance with a natural sustained biognosy that prizes biocentric harmony above bibliognost scepsis so that the enthused can flock with liberty divorced from libertinism. The ultimatum is a war between hedonism wed with donnism against eumoirety and self-restraint and this battle will be waged on the indolence of a future of cordslave tethers to interrogation of privy conceptualism hamshackled by the gradgrinds into the neat nexility of precise conformity that blacklists the samizdat because the genizah profoundly twists the already jumbled jengadangle and provides a junediggle of procession and ceremony rather than pomp without substantial grit embedded in the showmanship of a reality in need of a fourth-wall.

        It is ironic how we bewrayed our stewardship of the planet as a plenipotentiary sentience waged against the vesicles of instinct but more fundamental to this tattered but pregnant psalm is that the stronghold of our future is the tenacity of filial duty to enthrone the household with husbandry and restraint as an emolument to divine justice that sparkles opalescent in its own redacted notions of gravity imperfect in the taradiddles of science but refined by the eclat of the combustible syncopation of a reiterative trope of realism combined with surrealist caprice to henpeck affectionate violation above inviolable screeds of blood sport rather than conjugal affections afforded to the brood and the feast of the flocks that rein supreme over all things but exert inclement justice over the cattle and chattel of civilization itself. The minkumpf against the sacrilege of a prioritized kosher is to abhor the suffering rather than embrace the penitence of perceived but specious sacrifice which is an ornery thorn on the stained conscience of the yobbery of both the apikoros and the obedient because to attenuate all suffering even of instinctual beings we anneal our hearts to a glorified compassion that supersedes the relegated relics of pushful genuflection by succedaneum of sacrifice waged against the docile whangams of otiose theodicy. The filibusters against the regnant complexity of regalia that is a sprauncy poivrade with terpsichorean flairs to transmute the intimations of hibernated perfidy into finicky transmissions for the riometers that accord orbific merit in a lackluster time enchant the rollicking audience of this auditorium of the prevenance of the conquered universe bracing for the camorra of the insipid entreaty of defalcated casuistry—the prominent exchequer in hoodwinked political agitprop that forges ironclad allegiances to flimsy facades of the verisimilitude of dignity with recalcitrant but incondite bruits of venom militant against secular apostasy—that the fitful arrivistes that swim in dire dearth will be welcomed into the reconciliation of all time with a tempered lurid glint of revelation bounded by sunken albatross of hype unbounded with a peace insurmountable in prestige rewarded only with the highest reservations.


    On 3-1-2020 when I penned my philosophy—even at a slowpoke margin of crafty precision above rapid empirical faucets of folly—I was entirely selfsame with the autotelic engravings of the smoldering aboriginal talents within that many can swing through by tenacity for enormous plaudit but a flagrant majority will apprehend with flippant scollardical tenets of rebuke and remain honest in their appraisal only in meek resignation of parvanimity.
Consider the postulates of rarefaction whittled into a vehement zeal against the prostitution of our species to the anteric cycles of residual molds of dingy spectacle mired by the tyrannical towers of supercilious squirms of revamped novelty rather than enhanced by the freebooters of dirigisme that borrow from time the behest of philandered flairs divorced from the cadges of secular instinct and enthroned by the qualms of engineered virtuosity that is stark, barren but peerless in its outstretched clamor for luxuriant sprees against the silentium of grandeval asylum incurred by the flippant filigrees of recalcitrant modernism endangered by the irredentism of the future upon the whimsy of the present-minded momentary glare of rapture.  This impending architecture of nimble but subservient endeavor is a pinprick rejoinder against the wernaggles of prepossessed fountains of configured animosity against the stapled heed of a modality of trayned invictive invectives against the plodding course of fustilugianation that swerves in apathy of autopilot junediggle to emanate the surrender of epigone to the raktendure of the synaesthesis of the attuned perception of all superimposed minutiae delegated by calculated design into a synclastic focus on veiled caprice that is vaulted above the choppy and sketchy verdure of remiss perception to stellar continuities rather than mundane knickpoints of stodged blurs that magnify syncretic qualia into baseline congruity rather than staid torpefied resignation of the visage of thunder without the pangs of the widely vituperated lightning that bequeaths all certain notions but flouts the tortious saboteurs of the prim trucage of brittle fundamentalism.

     As the flawed paragon of a picaresque youth punctuated by vibrant plumage of self-wrought tropophilous usucaption of remote groomed frontiers of desolate luxury but buoyant morale into the ballasts of a nimble usufruct that hikkles yet still against still-framed thilloire--fatuous in endearment only to the polity of the waterdrip of craven but gravid disingenuous flickers of lambent cloaks of perfidy—that earned its birthright by meditative fruition rather than prodigal tallespin of indolent frapplanks of a vicarious personage rather than an autotelic haecceity showcases the folly of heterodyne inclinations meeting an impasse of accidental dislodgement. The interregnum between the spurts and sprees of luxuriance is a staid pause between continuities of afforded parlance becoming stapled demographic solidarity affixed to a strident gallop of effortful pushes against the tenacity of the slumberous wicked hibernation of vetust magpiety without hieratical internment because youthful industry beats hackneyed bludgeons of wiseacres of a stilted manufacture of steamy nostalgia for lickerish moments that dignify but undermine moral virtues but splash anointed and sometimes disjointed favor upon the congeners to a rabid escapade of a heedless love frowning on the girdles of the prim balderdash of heralded jolts dim on levity and puffed with elusive contextualized control of libidinous serrated defilement because the crotaline **** outmantles the sweedled limber of exploitable folly. The cosseted reality of wheedled gourmands of continuous perception rather than the Gaussian blur of the protean invention of stitches in time that obscure rather than magnify the supernal levity inherent to most artistry is a linchpin of lenient gravitas that levies the lavaderos of ripe perception into annealment.
Excuse the bravado of the gait of winnowed forks in a bronteum for heralds of megaloscopy fastened to the macroscian reality of indelible filigrees of countermanded controversy becoming its best behest in the sempiternal flowering of burgeoned demonstration rather than illustrious overhang of drab slabs of manufacture rather than organism that should be interposed between the constellated concepts of both apperception and the aggrieved counselors to obtuse obsessions that are an improper tutelary for a designated reprisal of the once profane now immediately gratified by ramshackle tenets of a guarded sublimation of the tenets of post-modernism into a sustained force of the internalized tabernacle of haecceity shepherded into exuberance by the manumission of spirit from the ******* of purblind scalds of defamation that incurs the penalty of flippant privation. The refuge the Lord provides is not contingent upon the vagaries of deliberation nor the calculus of oversight but the remontant amaranthine glower of a listed deed becoming an eternal reminder that a dismantled and disjointed world fathoming only remorse rather than the trudge of gentility against the headwinds of brunt asperity will always flout the successor rather than atone for the failure of the imponent condition that constellates around rudimentary drivel grubbing the momentary out of avarice for allotted merchandise rather than glommed magnets to amoeba sentiments for the kisswonk of ulterior motive beyond dungeons of desperation that lurk ghoulishly with spectral frights at the disfigurement of morale created by errors askew rather than a contagion of righteous valor.

   Ask the heedful servant if the captaincy of reneged commitment owes homage to dutiful instruction or whether it is a balking corpse of necrosis accorded to the omphalism of brutish carnal repose in times of sedentary silt siphoned in spelunked rijuice for preordination is a predominant specter for a world scared scurrilous and skittish in a diatribe against the very notion of tribal screeds embedded in the sedimentary heft of traditionalism above the pother of vacillation commended to the apikoros but counterfeit fiat system of a ruddy governance without a supreme magistrate. Now lets venture into the territory of visagists as we envision the swanky subversion of impoverished and nebbich visions of oligochrome that fixates on belabored but dead notions of rigid propriety and levitate above those concerns with a querulous transcendence that never wernaggles about the profaned irrelevance of burlesque tropes of sidereal friction but instead memorializes the thermolysis of permeable endeavor above staid countenances of imposture that lurk in the shadowy penumbra of the connivance of persona above the archetype of the tutelary guardian spirit that through windlass and sometimes deliberation affixes nobility to even the pedestrian in order to assize its proper proportions to granular ironies expounded into megalography transformative by the very rivets of its supersensible existence and cohabitation with histrinkage among human taboos.

   The handiwork of a permeable race prone to exacerbated proclamations of prerogatives bulldozed by the rapid percolation of insoluble quandaries to the gripes of the feast of foofaraw sometimes shelters our otherwise regnant concern about the plenipotentiary God that observes all latent affairs without the paramours that conflate vivid carnality with appeased luxury and superimposes a crafty system of seismic shifts in rantipole dances with numinous flux rather than dissipated militant suppression of the fracklings of dissolute pollution which swirk in their dastardly desperado endeavors to corral the entire monoliths that guard each province into a winnowed rumble of rubble by tarnish of Tyre rather than by the upstart rejoinders of Canaan. Every creature which has the capacity to perceive language is afforded benedictions by the overhailing force of the hypaethral heights of superlative ingenuity founded in the bolted speculation of the endearment of all to tropological seesaws embattled against the hearsay of nyejays that contaminates the telmatology of the ecosystem of revivalism rather than buries the leaden debts of the disjointed revenants of past prominence into recycled irrelevance for posterity rather than for anything but a machination of a clockwork apple rigged for a rotten worm to swindle the sweet delicate tempests of unforeseen disaster to perjuries against financial solidarity.

The spinsters of sardonic drollery underscore the imminence of an incondite cutthroat collapse blackguarded by the hucksters of incontinence grubbing every fetched noisome notion and congealing a bonnyclabber of desiccated mildew that proves vestigial when the victors of time earn their joyous serenade to the pinnacle of the totem of jaundice slits in wavy endeavors for the participles of sejungible syntax of the ephorized furor to outlast the draksteng of droned dereliction manned by half-baked spies of ulterior recitals for imprinted vicissitude in supremacy in synquest for frizzlounges rather than the pedestrian circulatory system of careworn polity. We vaporize the petty hatred of sympatric regelation that neuters the virulence of motivated impediments to the draconian surge of asperity that sinks temporal haplessness as a regaled blasphemy that crowns only the ringed betrothal to spumid serrated halts in slick superstition that is a buggery to the idea of insectivores devouring the erratic chantage of germane germs that pauperize rather than even blind the deafened to be a crutch to vehicular homicide. Melismatic sennet is a dirigible of immense herculean sinew without the traces of vestibulary retches of kisswonked grisly tepid intimidations of eccedentesiasts by the radioglare of wizened corrugations in thanatism that exhort the avatars of narquiddity over the natural departure of revenant souls back to their temporary hostility to crass lifeless decarnate immediacy that slinks with foibles magnified by vertiginous heights of scollardical reputes rigged by the rijuice of the plackiques of meaningless spoils for swashbuckler bonanza borrowed from serrated vengeance exacted in prominence to provide false avenues of extenuation to malefaction that is confidant to the panopticon of exemplary dimples meager in the largesse of the composite realism of a sizable imprint on megalography that outlasts impertinent excuses for dangerous trout swimming against the mobilized selachostomous frizz of sharks gathering to avenge disclosure with insolence and gravid atrocity of incisive surgical evisceration of attempted depositions that falter by innumerable facets of countenance that belie ultimate realism and the perdurable construction of a sturdy hive of bibliognost revelry.

     Even with the blaring sennet of majesty inundating my piecemeal perception with the marstions of flarium that is an efficacy in a flaccid world of otiose pretenses limpid only in folly but contraplex in ironic skewbald skerries of grubbed destination that is the terminus of karezza despite the maledictions of vehement guarded betrayals that conjure up lurid noisome virility against the gamines and gallywows that populate interstellar fictions of virtu rather than mundane pragmatica that astound with the resselenque of contaminated skeumorphs of latent fracture belonging to a skeletonized ossified reification of farce above historicity in seemly seamless countenance with overwrought princely stature deserving integrity to ripples through sparkling opalescence. The vapid insularity of the self-contained mythos of appeased groundlings is based on the rhizic and rhizogenic fracklings destitute in predicative flares to swelter above stratospheres of the illimitable into the dwelling of the highest serenity inherent to the pacification of truth to neglect its egregious errors of mistetches of a ripened pachyderm of bravery in times of austerity and now a reclaimed notion of sempiternal charades swimming above the punitive draksteng of dranger that is enlarged by acclimated attempts at foiled raltention hikkling against its own superior forces of galvanized preterition to elide over screwball insanity of derangement in this virtual paradise of inhabited souls belonging to former times congregating on the pasture of the evanescence of now for all eternity having the optative condition of incarnation above the ferules of the stagnant brevity of oversight in heavenly realms by postulate but not confirmed by regal logic.

     The troponder of the flickered lambent niceties of polity is a countenance that piggybacks on simpered jostles of negligent engrenage to appease sworn enmities among beatific havens for certitude swarmed by the fisticuffs of darbied bridewells of desiccated drainage traversing the distant disdain for the gravel of cemented slits of stilted pragmatica that is a gavel of atrocious estoppel mediated by heroic heresiarchs against pitiable betrayal for forceful remedies in acclimated servitude to the groans and groaks of a life of remorse and dearth rather than the glut of luxuriance in forbearance to its own intorted mirrored ironies that etch infinity with every scrawled rejoinder to austere ploys of checkered rumbles of threat and exigency posed by the clairvoyant hypocrites who benefit greatly by the design of the omphalism above the frays and brays of corporate dogmatism slowly outmoded by vibrant plumages of heteronormative originality beyond petty chantage. A hesitation overcomes the bluster of bravado as the restive earnest concerns of tribulation beset the minauderies of divine affection to reaffirm the teachings of the Gospel so that future generations genuflect beneath the altar of the ultimate stroke of sociogenesis and the blood ransom of suffering that promoted the human latitude and liberty against incarcerated throngs of virtue over caesaraproprism accorded to genuflection beneath denarii rather than absolution by tether to the eternal vine of sensation of the supersensible entelechy of all valiant insurrections against defective polities and renewed policies.

     We thus seek a transdimensional bridge between the morphean virtu of rudimentary alchemy of propitiation divulged by leverage and the teeming rambunctiousness of fiduciary tribes to the ultimate duty of man to consummate the future of eternity even in slowpoke mannerisms that sidle through rigors of entelechy and assize the masterwork of tutelage above the circumforaneous entrenchment of glut above the mastery of the subtle subaudition that beleaguers an adept conflagration of harnessed human ignorance staid in the incarceration of exotic virtues of freewheeling sapience never vulnerary to hospitable concerns that entrenches the verisimilitude of a refracted justice to reign over the stultification of a primitivism inherent to man and not man alone.

abolitionism
absenteeism
absolutism
abstractionism
absurdism
acad­emicism
academism
achromatism
acrotism
actinism
activism
adoptian­ism
adoptionism
adventurism
aeroembolism
aestheticism
ageism
agis­m
agnosticism
agrarianism
alarmism
albinism
alcoholism
aldosteron­ism
algorism
alienism
allelism
allelomorphism
allomorphism
alpini­sm
altruism
amateurism
amoralism
anabaptism
anabolism
anachronism­
analphabetism
anarchism
anecdotalism
aneurism
anglicism
animalis­m
animism
anisotropism
antagonism
anthropocentrism
anthropomorphi­sm
anthropopathism
antialcoholism
antiauthoritarianism
antiblacki­sm
anticapitalism
anticlericalism
anticolonialism
anticommerciali­sm
anticommunism
antielitism
antievolutionism
antifascism
antifem­inism
antiferromagnetism
antihumanism
antiliberalism
antimaterial­ism
antimilitarism
antinepotism
antinomianism
antiquarianism
anti­racism
antiradicalism
antirationalism
antirealism
antireductionis­m
antiritualism
antiromanticism
antiterrorism
aphorism
apocalypti­cism
apocalyptism
archaism
asceticism
assimilationism
association­ism
asterism
astigmatism
asynchronism
atavism
atheism
athleticism­
atomism
atonalism
atropism
atticism
autecism
authoritarianism
au­tism
autoecism
autoeroticism
autoerotism
automatism
automorphism
­baalism
baptism
barbarianism
barbarism
behaviorism
biblicism
bibl­iophilism
bicameralism
biculturalism
bidialectalism
bilateralism
­bilingualism
bimetallism
biologism
bioregionalism
bipartisanism
b­ipedalism
biracialism
blackguardism
bogyism
bohemianism
bolshevis­m
boosterism
bossism
botulism
bourbonism
boyarism
bromism
brutism­
bruxism
bureaucratism
cabalism
caciquism
cambism
cannibalism
cap­italism
careerism
casteism
catabolism
catastrophism
catechism
cav­alierism
centralism
centrism
ceremonialism
charism
charlatanism
c­hauvinism
chemism
chemotropism
chimaerism
chimerism
chrism
chroma­ticism
cicisbeism
cinchonism
civicism
civism
classicism
classism
­clericalism
clonism
cockneyism
collaborationism
collectivism
coll­oquialism
colonialism
colorism
commensalism
commercialism
communa­lism
communism
communitarianism
conceptualism
concretism
confessi­onalism
conformism
congregationalism
connubialism
conservatism
co­nstitutionalism
constructivism
consumerism
controversialism
conve­ntionalism
corporatism
corporativism
cosmism
cosmopolitanism
cosm­opolitism
countercriticism
counterculturalism
counterterrorism
cr­eationism
credentialism
cretinism
criticism
cronyism
cryptorchidi­sm
cryptorchism
cubism
cultism
cynicism
czarism
dadaism
dandyism
­defeatism
deism
demonism
denominationalism
despotism
determinism
­deviationism
diabolism
diamagnetism

CONTENDING FOR THE FAITH
  Certain men, described by Jude,
  As ungodly filthy dreamers,
  Condemned unto judgment,
  Evil speakers and flesh defilers

  Have subtly and secretly made themselves
  A part of the Christian faith,
  Purposely undermining salvation
  with ungodly speeches against God’s Grace.

Who are these insolent filthy dreamers
Who speak evil against Dignities with
                              disdain?
“Woe unto them” says the Apostle Jude,
“Woe unto Balaam, Core and Cain.”

Representative are these three of
The self-righteous for salvation,
The self-seeking for prestige and power,
The worshipper of wealth and mammon.

These are spots, ugly, despicable spots
In your love feast celebrations.
With all boldness and fearlessness,
They join you without invitation.

These are the murmurers, the complainers,
The mockers, of the soon  return of Christ,
As prophesied by Jesus and the Apostles,
     that in the last days they would arise.

In view of such apostates as these,
Be praying in the Holy Ghost, Beloved,
And building yourselves up in the Spirit,
Be living daily in the sphere of God’s love.

Having compassion on the innocent deceived,
The sincere soul drawn into a damning lair;
And others, addicted to chains of sin,
With great caution, ****** from the fire.

This, then, is the message of God,
With compassion, caution and love,
Be ready always to contend for the faith,
For the glory and majesty of God above.
From Jerry Howarth's original Poetry
Hello & Poetry
Jerry Howarth   Poems  
Published147  Drafts54 Hidden16 Deleted3

ADJUST OR BUST

A GOOD DAY FOR BIKE RIDING

A GOOD DAY FOR RUNNING

A LESSON WELL LEARNED

A Man and His Religion

And Then There Is God

AND YE FATHERS

ANGELS, MINISTERING SPIRITS

An Old Testament Love Story

A PRAYER OF PRAISE

ARE THERE CONTRDICTIONS IN THE BIBLE?

Are You Certain?

ARE YOU GOD'S MAN?

" ARE YOU READY FOR 'FREDDY?' "

" ARE YOU READY FOR 'FREDDY?' " (DRAFT)

ARE YOU SELF-CENTERED OR CHRIST-CENTERED

As a Man Thinketh

Atheism, Agnosticism, Deism, Humanism

A TREE HOUSE

ATTENTION ALL FATHERS

BACK IN THE WHEEL CHAIR AGAIN

"But My God Shall Supply All Your Needs" 4:19

Butter Milk Boogie

Christ the Strength of My Life

CONTRASTS

COPD

DEALING WITH SET BACKS OF LIFE

Dear Lord, I'm Bored

DEATH COULD NOT HOLD HIM

Jerry Howarth Dec 2019
DOUBT NOT GOD'S FAITHFULNESS
FAITHFUL TO THE LORD
   The Bible tells of a man called Job,
Whose life was filled with great discord.
He lost all his family and fortune,
But through it all was faithful to the Lord.
            chorus
Faithful to the Lord, Faithful to the Lord,
My Brother and Sister, be faithful to the Lord!
Yes faithful to the Lord, faithful to the Lord,
Be like Job, be faithful to the Lord.

Have your friends all turned their backs upon you,
And left you walking all alone?
Just remember, God is always faithful,
and will love and keep you as his own.

To Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,
God's promise of faithfulness was given,
To Joshua, the Judges of Israel,
And to a man called Gideon.

Yes my friends, doubt not  God's faithfulness,
Read the long list of men and women
to whom God was faithful to supply of their needs.
Found in the book of Hebrews, chapter eleven.
From Jerry Howarth's Book of Orginal Poems

Written by
Jerry Howarth  Topeka, Ks.
      
24     3
1 comment

Esteem Others Better Than Y'self

EVOLUTION SAYS.........by G.E. Parson

FAITH OR FEAR

Faith -What is it?

Father Forgive

FEAR NOT TOMORROW

FIRE! FIRE!! FIRERRRR!!!!!!

Five Kings In A Cave

FRIENDS

God's Faithful Provision

Go Forth With Confidence

Going Up to Glory

GRAMPA BACK IN GRAMMA' KITCHEN

GRAMPA BOUGHT A NEW CAR

Grampa Cooking Hashbrowns

Grampa G.E. Parsons's Creed of Life

Grampa Parson's 4th of July experience

Grampa Sold His Garage

Grampa Took An Unplanned Train Ride

HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF....

Heaven Is Only A Prayer Away

Heavenly Blessings

He Lied About Her

I Don't Get Mad, I get Even

IF CLOUDS HAD EYES

IF YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED

If you need a little help just call on me

IF YOU'RE TOO BUSY TO PRAY IF

I'm a physically Challenged Man

I'm so Blessed

I SEE GOD

IT ONLY TAKES BELIEVING

Jerry can't sleep

Jerry's Breakfast Sandwich

JESUS IS COMING

JESUS THE ONLY WAY

JESUS=What He Means To Me

JOHN Q.PRISONER

JOSHUA AND CALEB

JOY, PEACE AND HAPPINES

Judges of Israel Cont.

JUST RAMBLING AND RYMING

Keep Your Spiritual Eyes On Jesus

Legally Dishonest

LESSONS FROM THE PRODICAL SON

LIFE IS A CONSTANT STRUGGLE

Livn'n To Glorify The Lord

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

MARANATHA

ME AND MY SUNSHINE

Jerry Howarth Jan 2016
More Poems of Faith
CONTENDING FOR THE FAITH
  Certain men, described by Jude,
  As ungodly filthy dreamers,
  Condemned unto judgment,
  Evil speakers and flesh defilers

  Have subtly and secretly made themselves
  A part of the Christian faith,
  Purposely undermining salvation
  with ungodly speeches against God’s Grace.

Who are these insolent filthy dreamers
Who speak evil against Dignities with
                              disdain?
“Woe unto them” says the Apostle Jude,
“Woe unto Balaam, Core and Cain.”

Representative are these three of
The self-righteous for salvation,
The self-seeking for prestige and power,
The worshipper of wealth and mammon.

These are spots, ugly, despicable spots
In your love feast celebrations.
With all boldness and fearlessness,
They join you without invitation.

These are the murmurers, the complainers,
The mockers, of the soon  return of Christ,
As prophesied by Jesus and the Apostles,
     that in the last days they would arise.

In view of such apostates as these,
Be praying in the Holy Ghost, Beloved,
And building yourselves up in the Spirit,
Be living daily in the sphere of God’s love.

Having compassion on the innocent deceived,
The sincere soul drawn into a damning lair;
And others, addicted to chains of sin,
With great caution, ****** from the fire.

This, then, is the message of God,
With compassion, caution and love,
Be ready always to contend for the faith,
For the glory and majesty of God above.
                                  -  by G. E. Parson
     06/272011

Written by
Jerry Howarth  Topeka, Ks.
      
703     Don Bouchard, Got Guanxi and 1 other
Don Bouchard

Don Bouchard  I see we are writing on similar themes. Jude is a book for our times.

0



1 reply

May 2017

MORE THEE, LESS OF ME

MURDERING BABIES

My First Airplane Ride

My Lost Toy Bear

MY SUNSHINE GAL

NO EXCUSES

NONE OF YOUR BIZWAX

ONE MAN'S TESTIMONY

Out Line for Devotions or Full sermon message

PLAY BALL !!

POEMS UPLIFTING

POSITIVE PRAGMATISM

PRAISE GOD I GOT SAVED !!

PRAISE GOD, JESUS CAME!

PRAISING GOD FOR AMERICA

Preaching On Facebook Live

PRESIDENTS DAY 2/19

RABBONI ! MASTER !

READ THE BIBLE !
Next page

            MORE POEMS OF FAITH

Hello & Poetry
Jerry Howarth   Poems  
Published147  Drafts54 Hidden16 Deleted3

ADJUST OR BUST

A GOOD DAY FOR BIKE RIDING

A GOOD DAY FOR RUNNING

A LESSON WELL LEARNED

A Man and His Religion

And Then There Is God

AND YE FATHERS

ANGELS, MINISTERING SPIRITS

An Old Testament Love Story

A PRAYER OF PRAISE

ARE THERE CONTRDICTIONS IN THE BIBLE?

Are You Certain?

ARE YOU GOD'S MAN?

" ARE YOU READY FOR 'FREDDY?' "

" ARE YOU READY FOR 'FREDDY?' " (DRAFT)

ARE YOU SELF-CENTERED OR CHRIST-CENTERED

As a Man Thinketh

Atheism, Agnosticism, Deism, Humanism

A TREE HOUSE

ATTENTION ALL FATHERS

BACK IN THE WHEEL CHAIR AGAIN

"But My God Shall Supply All Your Needs" 4:19

Butter Milk Boogie

Christ the Strength of My Life

CONTRASTS

COPD

DEALING WITH SET BACKS OF LIFE

Dear Lord, I'm Bored

DEATH COULD NOT HOLD HIM

Jerry Howarth Dec 2019
DOUBT NOT GOD'S FAITHFULNESS
FAITHFUL TO THE LORD
   The Bible tells of a man called Job,
Whose life was filled with great discord.
He lost all his family and fortune,
But through it all was faithful to the Lord.
            chorus
Faithful to the Lord, Faithful to the Lord,
My Brother and Sister, be faithful to the Lord!
Yes faithful to the Lord, faithful to the Lord,
Be like Job, be faithful to the Lord.

Have your friends all turned their backs upon you,
And left you walking all alone?
Just remember, God is always faithful,
and will love and keep you as his own.

To Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,
God's promise of faithfulness was given,
To Joshua, the Judges of Israel,
And to a man called Gideon.

Yes my friends, doubt not  God's faithfulness,
Read the long list of men and women
to whom God was faithful to supply of their needs.
Found in the book of Hebrews, chapter eleven.
From Jerry Howarth's Book of Orginal Poems

Written by
Jerry Howarth  Topeka, Ks.
      
24     3
1 comment

Esteem Others Better Than Y'self

EVOLUTION SAYS.........by G.E. Parson

FAITH OR FEAR

Faith -What is it?

Father Forgive

FEAR NOT TOMORROW

FIRE! FIRE!! FIRERRRR!!!!!!

Five Kings In A Cave

FRIENDS

God's Faithful Provision

Go Forth With Confidence

Going Up to Glory

GRAMPA BACK IN GRAMMA' KITCHEN

GRAMPA BOUGHT A NEW CAR

Grampa Cooking Hashbrowns

Grampa G.E. Parsons's Creed of Life

Grampa Parson's 4th of July experience

Grampa Sold His Garage

Grampa Took An Unplanned Train Ride

HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF....

Heaven Is Only A Prayer Away

Heavenly Blessings

He Lied About Her

I Don't Get Mad, I get Even

IF CLOUDS HAD EYES

IF YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED

If you need a little help just call on me

IF YOU'RE TOO BUSY TO PRAY IF

I'm a physically Challenged Man

I'm so Blessed

I SEE GOD

IT ONLY TAKES BELIEVING

Jerry can't sleep

Jerry's Breakfast Sandwich

JESUS IS COMING

JESUS THE ONLY WAY

JESUS=What He Means To Me

JOHN Q.PRISONER

JOSHUA AND CALEB

JOY, PEACE AND HAPPINES

Judges of Israel Cont.

JUST RAMBLING AND RYMING

Keep Your Spiritual Eyes On Jesus

Legally Dishonest

LESSONS FROM THE PRODICAL SON

LIFE IS A CONSTANT STRUGGLE

Livn'n To Glorify The Lord

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

MARANATHA

ME AND MY SUNSHINE

Jerry Howarth Jan 2016
More Poems of Faith
CONTENDING FOR THE FAITH
  Certain men, described by Jude,
  As ungodly filthy dreamers,
  Condemned unto judgment,
  Evil speakers and flesh defilers

  Have subtly and secretly made themselves
  A part of the Christian faith,
  Purposely undermining salvation
  with ungodly speeches against God’s Grace.

Who are these insolent filthy dreamers
Who speak evil against Dignities with
                              disdain?
“Woe unto them” says the Apostle Jude,
“Woe unto Balaam, Core and Cain.”

Representative are these three of
The self-righteous for salvation,
The self-seeking for prestige and power,
The worshipper of wealth and mammon.

These are spots, ugly, despicable spots
In your love feast celebrations.
With all boldness and fearlessness,
They join you without invitation.

These are the murmurers, the complainers,
The mockers, of the soon  return of Christ,
As prophesied by Jesus and the Apostles,
     that in the last days they would arise.

In view of such apostates as these,
Be praying in the Holy Ghost, Beloved,
And building yourselves up in the Spirit,
Be living daily in the sphere of God’s love.

Having compassion on the innocent deceived,
The sincere soul drawn into a damning lair;
And others, addicted to chains of sin,
With great caution, ****** from the fire.

This, then, is the message of God,
With compassion, caution and love,

it's almost like saying:
   atheism
                                   and theism, or deism
or whatever.

                                  it's rought comparison,
but that's the best i could ever hope
to allude to...

      concerning the aye, eye, i...

                       oko:                 eye,

                              okno:               window

     oczko:
                                       a little eye, typically
                       of a baby;

judasz / judas: the peeping hole
                                            in your front door.

                   bilingualism is like
a mongolian horde in terms
                                 of etymological
"struggles", i.e. introspections...

i can't even begin the platonic
                     assertion of form-morphing
that's translated into
     darwinism of
          monkey into an ape...

  as someone who's into artistotle more
than into plato, because he's more
into shakespeare's dialogues than plato's...

    i don't buy the platonic crap
in darwinism...
                                  it would be, perfect,
if we were all reduced to monkey form,
and picked out one type of monkey
as our origins...
             what, *******, point, would,
a ****-brick sized gorilla ever need to evolve?

      a gorilla that could wrestle a tiger
and pin him to the floor, while breaking his jaw?
the **** is this?!

                  or right... choose a chimp...
but not a macaque monkey...
                                 i'll just do what atheist
youtubers do...           in terms of language:
                                              ******* imbecile!
pointless platonic imbeciles!
              darwinism = platonism...
                  god, in the now, now, now...
        now i should be exhibit (c) in a zoo...
or playing that ******* wormhole of a game
that's the sims...
         eugenics didn't move it far along
the argument scale, that we needed
to play "god" while playing the sims...

there's nothing worth an aristotle in the framework
of darwinism...
               darwinism is platonic...
       it arises from the head, and the abstract,
rather than on the basis of the senses,
that said:
               as one hindu guru said:
why aren't there more monkeys evolving,
turning into neanderthals?

             the more atheists call others *******,
we'll be swimming ad infinitum ad nauseam
in circles, concerning ourselves with
   arguments, that... well...
                     are best summarised by a cat's
meow of concern for
                   the arguments in themselves...
           bo'h-                              -ring!
oh look,                  retards either direction;
if that's what humanism has come down to...

seriously... if i were a gorilla... why would
i want to devolve?
                              so i can be subordinate
to beta-males' taxation rules of governing me?
    punch the ******* in the face, and move on...

to me, aristotle would have rejected darwinism,
but plato? ooh hoo hoo... he'd be darwin's first disciple;
******* ponces.

  don't bother questioning whether
poetry requires objectivity...
               it's a non-objective form of expression...
   as it was never supposed to be...
    take your 1 + 1 = 2 elsewhere, and ponder it there.

On his head
  was tattooed a number
     while through his mind
        flew destruction.

Over his shoulder blew Kong,
        and upon Kong,
             war's breastplate of torture.

A viced gripped and girdled waist
  with spikes tipped to rip the flesh.
A chain mail vest webbed with deism
  and acute despair lay sheathed.

You see him and terror grips,  
           when through his eyes,
             your eyes are reflected.

What is your number.



© 2013

environmentalism/nauturism/animism, latitudinarianism, cancerism, corporatism/corporativism, bureaucratism, governmentalism, devilism/satanism/diabolism/demonism, nudism, feudalism/serfism, universalism, conceptualism, defeatism, filibusterism, groupism, globalism, collectivism, centralism, communalism, internationalism, mercantilism/Americanism, utopianism, Illuminism, Fabianism, totalitarianism, mobbism/gangsterism, militaryism/militarism/ warlordism, imperialism, liberalism, statism/ stateism, fascism, authoritarianism, hucksterism, botulism, priapism, polydactylism, Mormonism, evolutionism/Darwinism/Lamarckism, dereism, ******/Naziism, Marxism, Bolshevism, Owenism, maturism, czarism/tsarism, eugenism, tokenism, albinism, pauperism, subversivism, battarism, Caesarism, Hitlerism, Rooseveltism, Leninism, Slavophilism/Slavism, Sovietism, Stalinism, Trotskyism, Titoism, Malthusianism/Neo-Malthusianism, mysticism, monarchism, regicidism, sciolism, socialism, Maoism, communism, absolutism, poplarism, Cahenlyism, Pollyannaism/Pollyannism, pedestrianism, homosexualism/lesbianism/sapphism, voyeurism, cultism/occultism, sectionalism, unicism, cronyism, mentalism, elitism, Hegelism/Hegelianism, fatalism, humanism/humanitarianism/existentialism, popeism, transvestism, Occamism/Ockhamism/nominalism, nihilism, neoterism, nephalism, Negroism, Neptunism, scientism, euphemerism, minimalism, alarmism, favoritism, rheumatism, infantilism, miserabilism, hoydenism, physicism, toadyism, rowdyism, aristocratism, loyalism, rightism/leftism, Mongolism, sadism/ masochism, plebeianism/plebianism, polyphalangism, simplism, quixotism, recidivism, selfism, alcoholism, synorchism/synorchidism, esoterism/esotericism, revisionism, hedonism, plagiarism, sophism, Indianism, Parkinsonism, timonism/Aristotelianism, barbarism, mercurialism, deism, narcissism, fetishism/fetichism, hypocorticalism, mitralism, bossism, ethnocentrism, multiculturalism, hierarchism, polygenism, mutacism/mytacism, narcotism/narcoticism, hermaphrodism/hermaphroditism, hylopathism, hyperadrenalism, catadicrotism, entorganism, invalidism, vampirism, ergotism, prostatism, hepatism & nepotism.

Reason his gift,
expanding it by faith;
god of Deism
come forth.
As the Jews
accept Washington's prayer
in the synagogue.

© S. Wesley Mcgranor

Take my hand in yours.

Show me Nocturne: Blue and Gold.
Comment on how the blue of the Thames fading to grey
Reminds you of my sad moods.
Slip in the fact that Whistler was born in the state where I grew up,
And died in the country that you call home.
Make it seem like fate, not coincidence.

Show me Newton.
Talk about Blake’s offense at deism.
Watch the mention of religion skitter past my ears
And right over my head.

Show me Norham Castle, Sunrise.
We’ll squint to make out shapes hidden by sun rays,
But it will only blur more.
We’ll take a few steps back and will see it clearly,
Before strangers obstruct our view.
I’ll comment on how the colours look like that of a child’s nursery.

Show me The Awakening Conscience.
I’ll ask you what you think is happening.
You’ll say that you don’t know.
I’ll point out the absence of a ring on her finger,
A mistress, she was.
She longs for something else.
Annie Miller’s beauty encapsulated in a single painting,
Her own life reflected for a moment.

Show me Beata Beatrix.
I’ll gasp with pleasure,
Recite bits of my favourite Rossetti poems for you to hear.
I’ll tell you the story of Rossetti and Lizzie Siddal,
And though you’ve heard it before,
You listen as though you haven’t.

Show me Ophelia.
Kiss my cheek as I gaze upon it, wide-eyed.
Tell me that I am as fair as Ophelia herself,
And I will smile while I marvel in Lizzie’s grace,
Better depicted by Millais
Than by her own husband.

As we leave
And pass the statue of Millais himself,
We shall embark on our own Shakespearean adventure.
To meet Ophelia’s fate,
Content and unaware of danger
Then drowned all at once,
I pray we refrain.

perhaps the hardest lesson to learn
is based upon drinking
whiskey slowly...
    you can down one kalimotxo glass
after another, and if you have
to litres of wine, you can also chain-smoke
choo-choo it down the slide
into more uninhibited territory -
but with whiskey: there's a need to
keep vigil, and wait, and wait...
  and it can sometimes be disengaging
that you somehow have to wait
for the right moment, and begin...
      oh, i drink out of choice,
not out of an addict's plea -
   what three weeks in Poland showed me
was that i can switch off the "addiction"
in a day, and feel no cold-trukey drama...
the western world with
its romanticism of madness and its
theatre of addiction narratives bores
me... quiet literally bores me...
   so why am i writing this?
well... i feel the tipping point of the Libra
working its way into my drinking session...
a few aphorisms by a german
philosopher in hardback...
   then a few newspaper articles from
a newspaper (column section, primarily)
and i can begin...
   and i can begin: because i feel no shame
in writing what i would consider to be
utter tosh... but given the Libra principle:
at least i'll write nearly as much
as i have read...
     i find it a disaster to merely write...
to fill some void, as if to rekindle once had
conversations with transcient friends:
notably those in a system of either schooling,
or work...
    i just have a void in my head
that once had pristine conditions (soul-like)
for thinking... now i don't...
  as happens when blood spills onto neurons
and you hear a sound akin to water
on an electric current...
but never mind that...
          do i care for past conversations
as a writer might, in that current film 5 to 7?
well... i'm not really a writer...
   as it is self-evident: i have the least
interest in paragraphs, or ensuring someone
takes me writing to bed as:
the best way to fall asleep... not as depressing
as someone falling asleep with the television on,
i gather that much...
     but i'm not really here to talk,
to orate grand things in the vein of a Cicero...
i thought i could begin citing more
Seneca and Cicero than the Greeks...
but then i found that: they cite the Greeks...
so why bother citing those two?
     pedantry, for the care of it being
a reflection that: there actually was a beginning,
and with that beginning i find myself
lodged in the current year, a.d. 2017.
    it's not that i care about these historical
figures... they're as far removed from me
as someone in a village 100 miles north off
Beijing... gearing up from tending to a field
to occupying a cubicle-sized room
with a naked lightlulb dangling off the ceiling...
it's hardly an umbilical cord...
but such is the contrast i'm experiencing,
a philosophy book on the one hand,
and a newspaper on the other hand...
  you can't find a better case of zenith and nadir...
i read one and i reach a nadir -
because current affairs and my place in the world
are a bit pointless by comparison...
  but i read the other, and i am walking
up a mountain, upon which i find coordinates (0, 0)
and of all things: gravity - a pulling force
that drags me to say, well...
coordinates (0, 0), but that's on an x-y graph...
i'm the z-line, so, more precisely 1 (0, 0) -
neither of these two mediums are actually
three-dimensional, as such, not the objects
themselves, but the content...
   so i have to stand outside the already prescribed
coordinate foundation...
but i still find philosophy books inadequate
in some way... a) no grammatical words...
not using the basis of categorising language,
all the time, just throwing words into abstracts
and geometric bulwark -
      no grammatical words, not one,
only Artistotle nibbling at it: proper names...
       or such thing from ancient lore...
and b) the rigid concepts used, intact,
to further an argument, or merely state
the logic of language...
           e.g. ad infinitum (to infinity) -
and never toward, say, something poetic...
   it's enough that grammatical words have never
been used in philosophy books...
  allowing a pseudo-ping-pong or at least
the quickened step... a wormhole effect...
but the fact that there can be no, i.e.
    αδ μηταφoρυμ -
        for example syllables, diacritical marks
as punctuation marks / syllable enforcers within
words... why then all the way to infinity
and not toward the given, now?!
toward metaphor, yes...
               how there is medicine all around...
a doctorate in linguistics might also mean
using another kind of scalpel to cut open words...
and not begging at the oratorium of:
the pen is mightier than the sword...
         so i guess that would mean:
the tongue is mightier than the thought,
  or as some would say: the thing that incubates
thinking... the in abstracto brain...
why would we begin to think by claiming
the origin of thought is in the brain and is by
brain solely coordinated?
   what of feelings concerning the heart,
and my drunken odes when the liver speaks more?
i can hardly be as merely a brain in a pickle-jar
attacked to a computer (some time in the future)...
the heart speaks as much as the brain,
if not more!
           side-tracking,
and why:                    Γγ      Υυ
   and not akin to Ιι                      Ρρ   Ττ    Χχ
      Ψψ, i.e. identical shrinking?
   some would say: can that ever be a serious question?
well... unless you're part of the crowd
asking about the mysteries of the universe,
i guess it isn't...
                   well... it's there, i'm in it...
it's unfathomable to the extent we currently
understand it... but at least this thing i asked is
concerning a human question,
   not a dialectically theological question
that stacks a lot of brains working on
the cartesian "i am" without much thought,
i.e. the tri-tier dialectics of theism / deism / atheism:
no matter what thought i put into that thing
that boasts moons, stars Jupiter and Mars will
ever produce a lightbulb...
     or a recipe for a well cooked roast...
here, now... language... it's bewildering
on the basis that: well, we're not exactly
merchants on the silk road writing route symbols
so we don't get lost when we travel across
Arabia... by the looks of it... we're already lost!
yes, that really was an exaggeration:
but i like to think it's so,
it's not as simple as 1 (straight), 2 (turn left)
and 3 (turn right) -
so to walk through a maze you were given
the instruction schematic:
1, 1, 1... 2... 1, 1, 1, 1... 3... 1... 2... 1, 1... 3... 1, 1...
bingo!
   and believe me.... you will end up writing
these little codes at some point, wondering
why it was that you didn't remember modern
code given computers... or as i do...
or why i do these little codes, because,
as a byproduct of being drilled 1 + 1 = 2
   from age 8... i feel like taking a break
and writing the most basic ciphers...
a bit like receiving complimentary chocolates
on your hotel bed...
  it's not exactly a chocolate fountain...
but hell... they're there.
yet what was that thing i mentioned,
the Libra principle?
     well... it doesn't matter what i wrote...
i spent the past hour reading...
   which makes me feel, actually a bit shameless
about writing anything at all...
   it's how i find writing to be at best
a chance of being trapped in a moment
    that post-pones more balancing acts...
i just can't stash inside of myself
  this high-air i'm wearing a cravat sort of airs...
like i might need a butler...
     i can't say i write more than i read...
but at feel less urgent in writing anything at all...
and the content just passes me by...
the context is more important:
whiskey, cigarettes, newspaper, windowsill
a bit of heidegger...
               and that's how it should be:
it can never be that important as i might even
like to think...
         and yes, as Kafka noted should
his works be kept, published IN LARGE PRINT...
you seen a Kafka book?
    New Times Roman... probably size 9 or 10...
they overdid the justice bit with Bukowski...
Kafka is stacked on my shelf and he's moaning
saying: you ******* should have at least
published my books in larger font:
so it's easier to read... who's this chuckling Charlie
doing in the myopic section of the library...
i mean: how many insuctices have been served
like that... he can boast all he wants:
the reason he's pop is because they printed
him in LARGE TEXT... Kafka received
a **** when he ordered a steak tartar...
   and yes... the stench of a nation once incorporated
into the Roman empire is all too evident
in an English newspaper...
   coming from a faction of peoples who didn't
experience being brown-nosed by the Romans
or who claim no conncetion with the Roman world
can be a bit daunting...
               it would seem to suggest that there's
nothing to boast about...
    and that much is true...
as if true that Poland: has absolutely no moral
obligation to prevent the people of Hong Kong
from being swallowed up by the one-party Chinese
state...
       because no more Kowtow means: no more Kowtow.
if i were British i'd cite Bilbo Baggins...
Gandalf... i feel streched... like
    too little butter spread over too much toast...
what's with this predicate of having moral
obligations... 6000+ miles away from Dover?!
well... these are middle-class opinions,
   instead of reading a newspaper, i should really
try to get an invitation to some *******'
    dinner party in Devon... or Richmond...
that's what i meant when i meant: two Europes...
  suddenly got the fear
and left: because there emerged a workforce
with a communist work ethic,
a generation who had to join the army for 2 years...
given the conscription laws...
         every time i wake up and feel nothing
but jealousy of not being born in poland in the 1960s.