concept albums: Lao Che and Gospel:
it's not exactly the English variation of concept
albums akin to Prog Rock...
this is sort of Prog Rock fusion with ska
and punk...                 it's rather refreshing:
like this beer i'm currently drinking...
after waking up at 9:30am sharp
having come home from a shift at 1am...
Pan Diesel... i hate this song...
i started writing when it came on...

cleaned the house... or as my mother says:
the streets and the plazas...
not the cobwebs and the crannies...
leaving the dust to accumulate:
a typical bibliophile mentality
of being phobic about cleaning books
like one might clean furniture...
but i sort of overcame it saying goodbye
to grandpa Joe
by cleaning his room
while Martin, his son:
spent 2 years or at least 1 drinking himself
to madness and eventually
madness that couldn't find an outlet
in art as the one: who creates...
he just sat in the kitchen and drank and ate
sausages, those dried out
FAGAS of a pepperoni...
didn't clean the father's room
the father dragged him down the father
dragged him down
should he know to have spoken
with Matthew...
about the roaming stars:
should you, Matthew, have Eve's:
your mother's temperament...
you would conquer the world:
dear Joe:
i am conquering the world...
dear Joe:
i am conquering the world...

   my totem of the fox came to meet me
at the CRAT...
the crayton: the craytor...
the Coliseum of Wembley...
it's all on c.c.t.v. with Huginn and Muninn...
the magpie of the trinity
the cctv...
                   me and LambeRto were talking
about Venice and Rome...
he comes from Rome LambeRto from Rome:
Venice is unique... a revision of Atlantis...
the mythological origins of the ancients
even the Romans thought themselves
as those ejected from Anatolia
as the Trojans...
Trojans... Romans were Trojans...
the English think themselves Greeks but are
known to only speak of Saxony...
so... no great agenda just a spirit of change
and the empire...
now trodden and dismantled...

                       the spirit of perversity and freedom
i still grapple with
the terminology of politics
distinction between ****** assault
and ****** harassment...
and the rainbow and the rainbow and the rain
and the light...
and only having one eye...
yet with imagination not given to the crows...
i have an imaginary hotel
in my empty socket...
and too much skin folding like bedsheets:
i need to change my bedsheets: i think
there is the crow of thought
and there is the crow of memory
there's the magpie of cctv
and there's worm of imagination
where once my eye was:
and i align myself with YHWH
against all?! ah: allah-blah
blah blah blahlah... allahblahblahallahblahallah...

one of jałej

JAŁEJ
                 JŁJ                                     na jabeŁ
mojego Oskara Darszana...

             muzyka w końcu boli:

oh at work oh at work oh at work i have so much
transcendence
the fox the german blabbering and crying
after being ejected
and me wanting to speak German
but instead prompting his bilingualism to come out
with:

                      WAS?! and i said it so subtly,
and so emotionally calming...
what?!                  alles gut?
i.e. what's wrong?

                       Judaic accents in Lao Che: the clarinet
and the roof and no violin
no fiddler for the oncoming Holocaust:
an Anti Jihad an Anti Crusade...

as far as i was concerned there's no slumber in hunger
and just alternative thinking
no headache just a head and a heart
which is probably enough to cause a headache
confining this brain this fruit
and these eyes and these ears
and how resonance blisters
                              a horizon of vibration...
not of light: what one hears rather than seas:
how everything is bound by sound
and speaks...
the fly buzzing a Morse depeche
squiggly line
then a silent voice in my head
says: it will not make do with avoiding:
writing this...
and i know you think the sun is shining
and you need your vitamin D
and the exercise and the air
not this stalemate of writing:
last night's battle... metaphors a bitten into
sausage
on a cup mat on the table...
and a broken fridge magnet:
a mexican hat... in pieces...
but i didn't overturn the cat's bowl...
that's why i cleaned the house...
i overturned a cat's bowl full of food
and i thought about
the crow of memory
and the crow of thought
and the magpie of the cctv
and then...
the worm... living in the socket
of my plucked out eye...
the apple i ate before
thinking about woman
and telepathically she acknowledged
and ate of the fruit
as i kept the worm...
living now in my L.....        R...
if i'm right handed:
which would be the eye to better coordinate with?
would i need to see my right
arm with my right eye
or would it be better to... not see through my left eye?

oculus per oculus...
nowhere is it cited except in the Quran that
the god of the Israelites is a plagiarism
of Odin...
               Allah is not one-eyed...
then... of the old pantheons... Greeks are their own
unique(s)...
i just want to listen to some Taylor Swift
but this Lao Che concept album Gospel is still playing
and like someone dedicated
i want to finish listening to this album in one go
ensoo...
                rather than changing music: take a break!
take a break!
eureka! AI: an advert comes on: even though
i downloaded BRAVEapp and it was a way to bypass
subscribing to youtube to be advert free...
but there's something special about harmonizing with AI
a frequency assertiveness...
there's still so much to unpack from yesterday...

or maybe i'm just bothered that i have
Edie and Alexander in my life:
the lover and the artist...
both entwined: talking with Samina
at work like a priest:
how i learned she lost her virginity to a black
guy and how the guy's father punched
him out for fear of Samina being an honor killing
since Pakistani men have this deep
recess of perfection: without reflection
but only the reflexive of memory
of having the surname Khan...
so the Mongols are still so close
maybe Pakistani men fear this the most
and are so insecure because of the surname Khan
after all:
the Mongols only tickled me
my people...
listen to the hejnał maricki...
St. Mary's Trumpet call of Cracow...
i have my own St Patrick of Greater London:
sorry... Poland
and i'm the Lesser Poland: the paupers and the kings
from other nations
seeking Poland as the womb of sanctuary...
i sometimes thought she was a *****
but she was Latin
in being surrogate to kings
an escape plan...
and so came the envy of Germany for not fighting
the Mongols
and the Russians who said:
you didn't fight them enough!
so the Pakistani men circumcised
with surnames like Khan being descended of that
man...

but unlike the Italian tactic of finding happiness
in life eating for three hours
talking and eating...
high noon... maybe not so much a siesta...
our northern burdens
will not be illuminated with only the other
will to power:
the will to strife... the will to struggle:
said ******...
power is secondary:
just like fame is secondary
for what is deserved from each and every talent.

alternative title:
alternative title:
the lost "art": of listening to albums (Lao Che - Gospel)

but now i'm thinking about that German lad
who was ejected:
crying about a friend:
and then allow me to comfort him...
maybe i helped maybe i didn't:
did i console him?
i must have...
saying that single word: WAS
to break him into English...

i don't even know whether he actually could speak
English:
maybe that ought to be a phenomenon
since the totem also came
and laughed...
laughed with mouth agape
because foxes are like hyenas
and like dog whistles
their laughter is silent...
but if you watch close enough
you can see a fox laughing...

                i don't think the German spoke
any English
          but broke into it connecting the dots
like i would get a drink
in Kiev
and break into Ukrainian...

yes: the will to strife: power comes much much
later and be not cared for:
love...
simply discarded... with suicide.

ah... us Roman Catholics...
the Irish, the French, the Italians, the Polish...
new brothers outside the realm
of ethnic romanticism concerning
the Czechs the Polacks and the Russians:
somewhere the Swedish overlords...

concept no 2:
getting lost in a song rather than an entire
album:
albums are painful
songs and on repeat: cardigan, taylor swift:
concentration model:
concentration is not consciousness?
certainly not thinking certainly not memory
certainly not imagination:
concentration is my Islamic variation
of asking the question of what consciousness is:
that has been partially answered with AI
if not entirely:
but now i want to ask the question of:
what is concentration?
what is this mental capacity:
this Moth of Prometheus?

let me introduce diacritical distinctions into
English
to alleviate this dyslexia:

as i ask...
aß ǐ ask...             (what's the pixels, closely)

                  although thought: the point
                  al-
                  allthought
        ­                                  poȷnt                         GHGH
GH complex:                          surd GH complex
summon of eyes seeing and ears not hearing...

              allðou(ght)                  GHT is going to be
problematic: it's a higher testimony...
ðe poȷnt      was the easy part...

(       ǐ          aye, yes?              some remnant
of the evolving tongue, yes?          aye?    Pidgin)

5 sec adverts:
what the **** is a love honey toy?
what's a love honey toy?
am i a love honey toy?
                           am i a cruel summer am i a love honey
toy? **** me bombardment...
electric shock tingle after tingle:
might need to raise my spirits
and ease off the beer and head into Amsterdam
and have a coffee with a hangover
i can control from having smoked marijuana
about: ooh: i don't know...
    2 hours? can't remember when this poem
started: and i can't remember or foretell when i'll finish it
this beautiful blank slate collage...

haha: i'm a donkey in ****-
  jokes egg yolks: GANDU *** FAGAS.

Martin's new favorite band: Silverchair and that
just that debut alone...
come to think: Samina on ketamine,
LSD then falling asleep while eating an egg...
dissonance:
maybe those were the tears of the Weimar
republic: now i remember...

ever since that ****** harassment case at work
i've been receiving more attention:
positive vibe energy from women...

COFFEE not *******...
for a Bank Holiday
it has been a busy day:
and i drank 4 beers smoked a joint
now i'm drinking coffee
thinking it would be necessary
to iron those work trousers
come 7pm after i finally decide to eat something
rather than thinking about
the self-cannibalism of not eating...
fasting: how the proteins behave the fats
and the fuel: as long as i have sugar in my body
and not think that alcohol is sugar...
you can't substitute the evolution of sugar
into alcohol because you need
actual sugar...
can't say that alcohol and meat is the perfect diet
sugars enlarge the room for the brain
to orientate itself in and with...
Martin: your brain became a shrimp and a prune:
cuddles from the fetus...
i will not be rude i'm just trying to find
a self-explanatory metaphor...

otherwise the Jews were like the intellectuals
who left:
while the Palestinian and Philistines remain
because how did the mystery of the Jews March
to Poland is not well documented...
why is the Second Exodus not documented
at all oh just lost in the Holocaust?
must be...

der zweite aus'                         'zung...
Tza Tongue in -oong-
                              Tzi Tza Sow...

                  or simply C: elsewhere... the land
formerly known as the Jerusalem of the North...
i'm guessing Danzig....
               i might be wrong: i might be implying:
Łódź......
and a camel cigarette rather than a roll-up...
   the reminder that i smoked marijuana is disgusting...
i want to escape to Kauai and give everything
up and only love myself up...
insomnia and the riddle of a child
among the seashells and the rain sounds falling
upon the Pacific...

as explained to Samina:
i don't stutter like i used to i don't stutter
into a trauma of speaking up
speaking to others: it's not Touret's Tauret's tarot
******* is a conjunction
a punctuation marker for any sort of sophistry
i make oaths i make the oath
i'm scribbling this down right now...
or maybe because she's the same age
as my...
and maybe i can just talk to older women
and maybe the younger women just see
me and are scared to talk to me:
but Reyla isn't scared clearly because there's
this deeper ****** connection we
share and just baking her 13th birthday cake
and talking to you and your mother
and seeing so much harmony
and i know you didn't see it
but how i did and how it made me happy
that finally your mother found you at peace
and so deeply meaning to have to move
closer to your sister -
but i'm also saying goodbye
and if haven't been with each since
what's more since now of the then
that will become of today.

- - - - - - - - - - -
- - -  -   -  - -  - -
- -         -         -
           U)

many eyes: one smile...
contemplating the banality of the Third Exdous:
that never was
of the Jews to America
when clearly the plan was all along to resurrect
Israel
and not merely Judea in America
but that is Israel to me:
and there was no en masse exodus to America
since so many remained in Poland
to simply die...
skim reading the culture magazine,
the sunday times, august 25, 2024...

- i firmly believe the worlds tilts towards beauty
         nick cave on life after death
- i was going to call my album Joy
- robert harris's latest novel delves into
the passion between the prime minister
Herbert Asquith and a socialite 35 years
his junior; as war was breaking out
across Europe            (n.b. so can be bothered
using the semi-colon, but not able to known
that an s' apostrophe indicates no need to
's i.e. to introduce the possessive article)
- now i write music for the king
   (black woman piece, just read the headline
saw a picture and farted at the king,
if monarchy could be established in Poland
again: Harry Windsor would be king)
- how do you preserve a masterpiece,
in the face of age and even protesters?
Laura Freeman has a rare glimpse into
the art of restoration
skimmed past a few pages...
- Sven - a game of two halves
- why thatching is back
- when America flirted with fascism:
in the 1930s a motley gang of populists and
propagandists trolls threatened democracy.
a liberal journalist warns about the parallels with today

well: so much for a sobering reader's digest...
just enough coffee with feel hungry again:
like a hunger authentic not some rage inducing hunger
authentic hunger to want to cook something
from scratch...
plenty of fresh tomatoes:
i feel like making a garlic and bacon pasta bake
with fresh tomatoes on top
and some shaved cheese and Italian herb concoction
of rosemary, thyme, oregano, basil,
did i forget something? hmm... i don't remember:
maybe that's why i forget:
to forget is to let go
to remember is to hurt.
i think i love you like
i want to forget you, Edie:
i think i love you like i want to forget you.