“I think that I shall never see”
a tree thin as phylogeny,

looks poor, no fruits nor leaves for tea,
Yet means so much as Darwins see.

rooted, unrooted, a weird tree,
well, Nature, too, selects weirdly.

No other tree much affects me,
keeps changing my taxonomy,

splitting-lumping, lumping-splitting,
because more data keep coming.

“Poems are made by fools like” you,
but cladograms, don’t make me blue.

the world began with adam and eve from adams rib we believe.
but was this story proven wrong when darwins theory came a long.
he said we came from monkeys who developed at a pace who grew in to man and became the human race.
so do we really know which one of these is true which one you believe is entirely up to you.

One saw it as an illusion,
another saw it as Darwin's Evolution.

i taste the bitter and sweet fruits of the tree,
while He sits and calmly observes Me.

What to do if the world is an illusion,
In this vast chaos and confusion,
we have lost track of some clear motivation.

Thou have seen clay moulded into figures,
By artistic hands of sculptures.
When I ask thou what it is,
you tell me its a shape defined by man.
Yet failing to recognize, it is ultimately clay moulded by man.

you could be an animal, a bird or a human being,
depending on the artistic eye of the sculptors foreseeing.

What you fail to realize, if you open your eyes.
you are not what you seem to be.

Darwins evolution or His Dream, an Illusion.

There's a giant disparity
No economic parity
Or intellectual clarity
When they're scaring me
So I'll collapse invariably
Under coins they're barreling

They nickel and dime me
So I'm pinching for pennies
No peace I'm finding
Working at Wendy's
For the money lending
Capitalism bending
Sharks that are trending

We coin those with stacks of cash
As successes
Even if their heart's black as ash
It impresses

Money doesn't grow on trees
But it seems to float in the breeze
The direction these people please
Or happen to sneeze

I scrape
And claw
But those apes
Are frauds
Playing God
No sin absolved
Without their call

Because I don't put up with their torture
I haven't made a dime this quarter
Because of dollar hoarders
Ruling through law and order
Creating tribalistic borders

Nobody's paying my bailout
I'm too small to fail now
My life's become stale, how?
The **** of a male cow
I tear apart my only couch
Looking for a coin pouch
To get me out
Of this drought

I cut my fingers
And bruise my knuckles
My fatigue lingers
Until I buckle
My stock tumbles
As I scream uncle

We allocate all our resources to a few
While the rest of society turns into a zoo
Where people die to pay their dues
And are given a pocket of coins to use
Which ignites their fuse
But their obfuscated views
Are swayed by the news
Teaching trivial truths

Change starts jingling in my pocket
When I get on a revolutionary rocket
So they buy a gun and **** it
To preemptively block it
They use marketing to stop it
Like it's just another stock tip

They have the guns
They have the money
I have to run
If they start hunting
Because those that say something
Are the edges they're blunting
With coins they're dumping
To protect one thing:
The profit margin
Like social Darwins
They say the hard win
With unholy marred sin
By collecting the coins of their foes
To help economic hostility grow
Until coins are all we know

a little argentinian malbec for
persuasion -

  because there's nothing for
the sort of blues of
reading through the poetry
bestseller books...

i'm not going to milk that
ol' goat of gloating
in saying:
        i'm better than that...
i'll just remind myself:

god, i possibly can't be
any worse...
   leftover ideals of love:
the sort of love
where a woman
is a mannequin
    and a man is...
           an imitation octopus...

that i've come to a crosswords
is probably an understatement...
stalemate in prose
to boot...

just so it happens
   i've done more walking
than writing:
having covered most of
the north-eastern aspect
of greater London...

from Romford to:
Epping,
             Coldharbour
Canary Wharf
St. Paul's cathedral...
Upminster, Brentwood...
and round and round
around Chigwell through
to Woodford...
   Epping Forest is overrated...
too many roads
cut through and too many
little rivers run through:
more like a swamp than
anything...

and with this, my "dilemma"...
circa 7 languages to
draw a picture...
  either a horizon or...
a take on Cezanne's still life...
better something Dali        esque...

眼 (ㄩㄠㄋ) -
      which is eye (yaun)
                       in pinyin / zhuyin:

since a glyph is not a letter
(apparently well d'ah d'ah d'uh!)

exhibit (a)

                                          երկինք
  שמש

                             เมฆ

                                     ㄕㄢ    (ㄕㄚㄋ)
ヤマ

    पानी (i.e. नदी)

                                       ც ე ც
                                       ხ ლი

         ⰎⰀⰔ
                         ᛋᚴᛟᚷ

           oddly enough coming back
to ol' ge'ez...
   i.e. ethiopian... i.e.
the word... for king...
                                       ነገ
                                           hmm
   "problem"...
            i know how an acute accent
on an S sounds like

                      ነገሠ    vs.
                          ­               ነገሰ

and i know the word... in "slang":
i.e. NYGUS...
                                             ነየገሰ

that vowels "might" be hidden
is obvious...
        disclaimer: although this is
a phonetic sketch...
  i'll write each word as it is:

sky, sun,
   clouds, mountain, mountain,
water (i.e. river)
                     fire
forest, forest,
                              king...
          
   մարդ        ստվեր
       ชาย         เงา
           ニンゲン    カゲ
आदमी       साया
   კაცი   ჩრდილი
         žmonių     šešėliai

that i was looking for (ų)
              is without a doubt...
what with the already planted (ą, ę)
i had the sound...
but i couldn't posit a meaning /
a word with it...
lucky me... lithuanian... had it...
all along...

       just like...
an imaginary petition
to revise some Cyrillic...
   i.e.
       if Ш = SH = Š
          and if Щ = SHCH = ŠČ
        then why . o O why...
does   Ц = the polish "c" or the german "z"...
i.e. why does      Ч = Č                ??????
                                         ­              ?????
                                                       ?????!

does ras(PUTIN) know? no?
looks pretty ******* solid to me, no?
i.e.
         Ш + Ц = Щ
                  
          it would seem plain enough:
n.b. the last time i read (past participle
red? lost the a, letter, not the indefinite
article)

of Dickens mention "orthography"
was nothing short of a spelling mistake...
i.e. the slightly above "average"
of phonetic-
                 (open form, hyphen attached,
no         -ing
          e.g. begin{n}ing)

juice worth of shrapnel...
whatever the eye might see
and denote as: cardamom...
             इलायची like so...
or კარდამონი like so...
      the nose a priori the eye...

a sure sign of Caucasian "superiority"
is bound to...
ahem... the "concept"
of having uppercase and lowercase
lettering...
unlike in "mother" Cyrillic...

at times Cyrillic looks cheap at
times... survivable...
to be of use... on the Siberian tundra...
which is hardly a Saharahaha...
sprout of a giggle and a variation
of a dwarf's name like Gimmley &
tow Grimm...

honestly: a bottle of Argentinian
red later and i'm... theta or phi i.e.
fffffff-erocious...
             raucous...
it's under suspicion that i cite...

Byzantium is not allocated
the Caucus route of all things...
crumbly...
post-colonial... imperial-y...
     like thing-y
        magic-y...
                       from... TWITCHY...
from fidgety...
the article of "nuance" /
association...
the associative article in english...
i.e. y
            
   if there is an indefinite article (a)
then that there is a definite article (the)
a possessive / plural article ('s / s)
so... the article of association / loose...
Herman?
            ein(e) zeppelin... bitte...
                                            werfen scheiße!

more example of a pan-Caucasian
takeover of... Caucasian ***** 'n' / &
*******?
            if god had such a grudge
against sacrifice of a jeez Louise
and zeus to boot...
then latin, this script...
would have gone the way
of the egyptian gylphs
and the babylonian cuneiform...
dodo... to paraphrase...

but no... oh no!

while "we" have the African boyos on
the beatbox of Beelzebub
i'll be the one ridiculed as...
tossing up a bother over a woord
sooload...
           because:
just because...

my petition is simple...
          Ц = Č... can't you feel it...
the old evil... the cold war...
the fact that you want to **** khaki nazis...
just because you're dressed in rags /
mongolian heaps of ****-smear
and a Bolshevik too
and they're the nicely primmed
Munich boys donning...
   Karl Diebitsch, Walter Heck
and of course 'ugo Boss...
            just because... it's that sort
of evil you want to ****
because... it's prophetic and it's
fire and it's crisp and it's
arrogant and stratosphere real...
it's the high heavens... all the 9s...
it's... an evil of potentially me...
it's: a betterment clause...
because i want to be...
         this ZZ-TOP...
                                                    sav­vy?

i.e. i'm not here to "talk" about
post-colonialism or the zenith of the
british empire...
history... etymology...
a language as something of
a labyrinth as those who acquire it...
weave it... ***-tickle-fancy it...
worthy of a revision...
but not... biased with...
cf. race-baiting...

   chris rea: so... so long long we
go to yet... gone...
   fish................... ing...
      
                    some bias in a b'          'op....
suppose there's a long pause
between the apostrophes...
mistake the apostrophes for hyphens...
b-                              -op
or better... a *** a sour-*****-klein-kinder...

in reverse reverse-psy-ops...
of the whittle Bangladeshi from
Manor Park, Forest Gate,
to Stratford through the Roding Valley...

***'s a yield of two a broker's supposed:
breaking of the son...
down or up the Gierkowa...
i.e. from Warsaw to Cracow
or from Cracow to Warsaw...
piggy-bag on the shoulders
of no lesser pseudo-Atlas
that, than was king Casimir...
some third...

           rummaging in the derelict
parts of heaven...
like an afternoon watching
my girl fridy...
apparently making a film in
1940s... and the whole world
deserves to "disappear"...
in a figment of 3rd party...

there isn't an associative article?
there isn't a dissociative article?
         bound to some          -ish...
that it's blue-ish...
that it might be tree-of-sort?
   this language this my playground...
who's no 'ere who is 'ere
anyhow?
  the last Portuguese take
on... chewing cheese?
      if "they" only knew what Alfonso /
missing the suffix -o actually implies
elsewhere... herr ****** etc.

- such that half of Poland died when
my grandfather died...
i mentioned the name: KRUPPS
and he knew...
to do with metallurgy...
and enterprise...
                          and by the time the other
half dies... i'll be...
freed toward the perspective of
flying... kite against swallows...
hoping to confuse
swallows with sparrows...

one word...

           scarecrow...
probably a misnomer given
the i.q. of crows...
crows probably... i just too pretend...
scarecrow in english...
let me check...

strach na wróble: literally...
reads as: fear for sparrows...
that's ******
pole ****** for you...
hmpf....
a rare sound of arrogant: quasi...
what do you want me to...
tailor / edit?

    doy'tch...
             vogelscheuche
noord: i.e. nordic...
             fugleskremsel...
a variation of skremme...
          schrecken: scare... to...
rather than: to... fear...
       absolutely nothing... to do...
with... allocated birds...
****'s sake... might as well be...
as easily done as...
frightpeacock!
              or aghastsduck!

this is language: my ******* playground...
no ethnically bound pseudo-darwins...
the empire... etc. are... all that welcome...
hier, i(s)ch bin "gott":
                                         ich bin wort!

hölle: bin ich... 'meow'?
                gurke-gänsehaut-ständer...
nein?

1:30am... that's enough...
          the wine has been drank...
the song... partially written... mostly unsung...
numbed...
******* Schwabian and sort...
because the Saxophone players moved
west and called a piece of Denmark
(Anglia)... that Roman variation
of Albion etc.
    and i'm here doing LEGO puzzle(s)
with Ali from dislodged Tehran?

crosswords... patriots of north h'america...
nationalists of europe...
funnel... fizz...
           the hardly... croat patriots mingling
with the iowa patriots of...
can you... allow... conjunctions
in acronyms?
united, yes.... stated...
                                   milkshake lingo...
of(f)                 ham... the burger buns...
      land of Ur...
that variation of Abraham
     *** Gilgamesh...
       veering into
Qi and Raq...
as...         how the Ottomans were
"necessary" in... Medina...

         bon ******* voyeurism of...
the taj mahal... via... c.c.t.v. etc.