theres a  place in ireland its name is galway  bay
full of lots fishing boats you can see along the way
you can watch  sun as it begins to set
as you watch the bay become a sillouttte.

you can see  white horse has there riding by.
riding on the waves beneath a moonlit sky
a picture of tranquilty that warm can the soul.
a perfect work of art thats so full and whole.

the beauty of the bay the splendour of  the sea
a memory  i hold so very close to me.

Love is not a singularity
It is a whole
One cannot extract a part
Or worship only one piece
It must be accepted as a whole
One cannot only enjoy the soft warm places of love
The pleasent corners and pools
The weak seams that easily split
The lose threads that unravel with the slightest mistreatment
It takes great and delicate strength to walk its halls
Love is complex
And beautiful
It has hidden shadows and dark nights
It cries to the moon and begs for the sun
And it comforts them both in turn
Love is filled with dreams and hope
Longing and doubt
Wishes and tranquilty
Torment and viciousness
It resides in both angel and beast
Heaven and hell
And earth
In the tears of god
And the blood of the devil
One cannot claim it as there own
One cannot truely love any other person
Before loving them all
One cannot give love
Without giving themselves
First to love
Love is of our time
Our blood
Our soul
Treat it well
As you treat others well
Give your all to love
And give all your love
To those in need
Life and love
Though never perfect
Are always
Beautiful

theres a  place in ireland its name is galway  bayfull of lots fishing boats you can see along the wayyou can watch  sun as it begins to setas you watch the bay become a sillouttte.you can see  white horse as there riding by.riding on the waves underneath a moonlit skya picture of tranquilty that warm can the soul.a perfect work of art thats so full and wholethe beauty of the bay the splendour of  the seaa memory that i hold so very close to me.

I wish I had the vision of Superman.
The ability to look through the clouds and see heaven.
To reconnect to all those that has left this earth.
And found a better place to rest.

Whether they above or still upon this earthy world.
Heaven can be wherever tranquilty is.
I just want to see their happiness upon their face.

This earth here seems like a sad, sad place.

I wish to have the wisdom of Solomon.
At this moment people needs assistance with their problems.
But if they place their trust in God he will solve them.

One thing that's true.
He won't harm them.
Cause he has a shield of strength to protect them.
And he's forever reign Supreme.

Im not even going to hid it or fake it.
I Must Admit
I want to see you naked
This is the moment I have awaited
Such a special hour in time so sacred
I promise you no time will be wasted.
Its something I had anticipated.
I hope that you can be persuaded
So I can let you grow to be comfortable enough that you and I can get naked.
But You can keep on all your clothes though.
Im not trying to be no *** bro bro.
But for me can you please Strip down to the barings of your brain.
Take off the window seal of your Pain.
Bare it all; allow me to see every single crack, wrinkle, blemish and stain.
I promise I won't complain.
And Ill let my adoration flow; for you are the earth and I am the heavens pouring upon you my surge of rain.
Let me investigate the very Essence of your Illuminated Soul.
Lets take a stroll
Exploring the mental's temple losing physical control.
Igniting an Radiating glow.
shinning as the intangible spectrum of a rainbow
No longer living in A Shadow
But Being a Royal King and Queen living in The most Elegant Chateau..
Inhaling The Most High's divinity
Traveling The Roads of Tranquilty
Then Exhaling to let go of the epitome of Negativity
Sensing each other's energy
As we enjoy one another's company
While sharing A piece of Serenity.
Let me look deeply inside of your
Our spirits come to be acquainted.
As our human hearts become related.
And Upon your  white anti-blemished canvas My mind was motivated
To ask the question it effortlessly painted;
Do you mind if we can get Naked?

Stark ipseity
Trance tranquilty
Oxidized reality
Fear what's inside of he

Hardened, weathered wear
Reinforced steel layer
An unrecieved prayer
From this dweller of a lost lair

Killing none with his righteous ammunition
A dark dancer omitted his foreign recognition
Of which I received in a dim rumination

He felled so foul, triggered the end
A sterile head rolled off to a shallow ditch
Gone are the days of the Baphomets

An order of the forgotten rebel
Who lost their way to that downed castle
Where it's said the bell tolled one last somber knell

This tale is old and long forgotten,
Scribed on tomes molded and rotten
The story holds nothing now but a ghastly haunting

like flowing wine painted on the canvass
framed in perfect yellow hues of warmth
each red drop, pours love from our  hearts
each sip makes us giddy, and yet relieves
tranquilty sets in with a permenant smile
and each red drop we drink feel the warmth
of love within

Can you feel it nearing?
The cold spell has been cast.
The energy of life and death
spread its wings.
A silken gossamer web woven.
And dances around, the music
of the wind.
And glancing down, the tranquilty
of the stars.
It waits.
Winter bares its teeth to all.
white and slimy and ready to bite.
Winter coils its frosty tail,
as it coils and sways and lashes about.
Flowers are blanketed and
houses are quilted.
And as the warmth fleets,
it retreats to the fruits.
It is through them
that we stay warm and
aflame.
Bite the peach.
It's sweet and ****.
And tendriled flame
will flutter and
coat.

Part 1

Weary of always looking up,
of always ******* up,
of always chasing after Tranquilty.

She is one step in front of me,
and regardless of how much I shout at my legs to run,
she will always be one step in front,
so I plea and plea and plea.
“ Don’t leave me untouched”.
She does not reply for she refuses to see,
all of the agony that clutched onto me.

Constantly I am running,
I am chasing,
I extend my arm out,
and beg for her to take my hand,
but she doesn't even look behind.
I trip over Pride and Repetity and I fall
Oh she is so unkind.

I close my eyes as my body greets the floor.
Tumble down and bumble into a wall.
I do not wish to do this anymore.

Strength is what I desire,
Strength is what I need to acquire.
This so called Anxiety Wall, is 6 feet tall.
So I simply lay and recall,
a life that was never mine.

Over time,
the wall seems to grow,
is it due to my own design?

the world renowed english: black humour...
schwarzhumor...
better known by its "high german" -
alt-vater-zunge... schadenfreude term...
perhaps this anglo-slav of me always
found an iron maiden
of self-censorship to never
allow myself a pleaßure from this...
"sense of humor"...
it's not that i'm gripped with
either sympathy or empathy -
i guess i am... more or less:
arms tied... pretending to be a rock
or a ghost when...
we shared a laugh:
once upon a time... when one of us
was kicked in the *****...
or the football came full force
in a football match against the genitalia...
or how i was so wrapped up
in reading a newspaper while
walking... i'd walk into a lampost...
it's not laughing at misfortune is
general... it's a quick-equipped
circumstance of slapstick humor...
the base instinct... almost paranoid
in waiting... because you suspect
the universe to find the counter joke...
of close proximity karma...
you laugh nervously...
because: the 12th rule for life...
sorry... can anyone translate the fact
that petting a cat in a street...
is by far the hardest rule "for life"...
that cats do not come with:
readily petted... by strangers...
unless... so unloved by their owners
they become "missing"...
lost dogs and "missing" cats...
a cat is never missing...
i own two cats = i vacuum the house
every, single, ******* day...
sometimes i'm vacuuming spare air...
but i always wish for vacuuming
to be fishing-esque...
the need for the house to be clean...
shedded-furr-free is...
almost compulsive...
but it's necessary...
it's not that ****** easy to pet a cat
in the street...
it's too obscure to be a rule...
dumb dog will be whipped and either
turn around and bite...
or further his nostalgia for the all-loved-puppy...
distrustful creatures...
these cats... a black cat crosses your path...
the number 13... bad luck...
elsewhere... not here: not with me...
it's hardly a rule... because it can't be kept:
no random cat is willing to be petted
by a stranger on the street...
first of all... you need to walk the streets
at night...
but this is about...
never being inclined to entertain
schadenfreude...
among the western slavs... the polacks...
there's only plainsight jealousy...
i can stretch my palette when it comes
to the english schwarzhumor:
the ridicule and the terse accounts...
and the bombast...
i can entertain this dry scrutiny:
cptn. obvious in tow...
but the old rhine black forest humour?
schadenfreude...
i actually find it less difficult to avoid
encountering this mild sadism...
what's harder? faking apathy...
because when confronted with having
to disguise either empathy or sympathy...
is much harder than to give way
to schadenfreude...
back into the co-ordination of a self:
your self: reflective -
yourself: the reflexive...
it's a balancing act... and it's near impossibility
of stratifying "neuter"...
well...
apathy - what a paradoxical word -
a bit like psychopath -
the pathology associated with the existence
of a soul - psychopathy and exclusive materialism...
apathy: to be freed from all and any
pathology is a pathology per se:
which is apathy...
it's this automated "free ride" that
drags along minor details...
posists spotting microaggressions...
you see them... for your own pleaßure...
since there's no major hinderence...
no clarified pathos -
no obliterating ****** impetus -
the middle-ground: no-man's-land...
i currently have a cold - that famous...
voltaire definition of living in england:
the forever-cold...
the bounty of living on an island...
premature arthritis and constant colds...
away from the dry air compensations
of continental air...
sure... it does rain on the continent...
but you're not surrounded by water
all the time!
perhaps the + is that...
given so much water around...
the daytime hours come sooner
during the winter months...
than they do on the continent...
it's this... ******* island damp!
but - in all honesty... a cold is a welcome
period of: immediate discomfort...
with immediate remedies at hand...
discomfort as: less lethargy and more
nausea...
i know the signs of this minor discomfort...
all i have to look at is...
the uvula...
i know i'm in the chicken-shack enclosure
of the common, mundane cold:
ad nauseam when the uvula...
is... not swollen... but elongated... seemingly dripping...
when the uvula is touching the tongue
when the mouth is open... i know i have
been infected by a common discomfort...
would this ever stop me drinking?
hardly...
but tonight... no need to walk
the labyrinth of the outer english suburbian
streets looking for cats and foxes "to pet"...
the third tonsil is still in place -
it almost looks like a overtly-wrinkled
nutmeg stone...
and it protrudes itself in the gob
when an automated reaction to regurgitation
plays a role...
from the days when i used to mind
my weight and physique...
also having succumbed to classical
bulimia (roman) -
or eating and then regurgitating what
i ate... ******* down the throat
at first... until the oesophagus was
properly trained...
but an uvula that's "trickling" down...
like a mama goat's ****** that has been
****** off too many times...
and is lazily agitating the tongue it
rests on... then i know i have a common cold...
i experienced schadenfreude once...
but it was the immediacy that surrounded it...
it became an outburst of laughter:
spontaneously or rather:
if i were th lucky man, wearing a top hat
or a bowler... walking through trafalgar sq.
and having a pigeon **** on it...
but there's a doubled problem surrounding
schadenfreude... these days...
it's a humour associated: brooding-over...
or like reading a charles dickens novel...
something bogus like so...
it's hardly married to the child of spontaneity...
or the reflexive invitation: like water,
most unstoppable...
humour in a sense: pickling cucumbers
so that they become gherkins...
those tiny little oddities of the kingdom
of... the vegetative state of affairs...
i don't know why i would enjoy this...
ancient (not so primitive) sense of humour...
today i finally realised working my way
around the alarm clock...
and what a beautiful morning it was...
being woken up with music...
full blast: american head charge's debut
album... rather than some alien sound
of gongs and castrated gods, or sparrows...
a tonne of elephant **** landed in my room
and i became chirpy like a sparrow
without... what those gypsies get up to:
sing-along *******: happy r.e.m. -
peoples of the world: disunite...
two jokes: why do italian men grow moustaches?
so they can look like their mothers...
nick nolte: head full of honey...
decent film...
joke no. 2... why are all german jokes...
it's better than these people have a car to export...
there is no german joke...
little brother england - the expansion
of saxony is one thing... but hearing
a pomeranian joke is... watching the *******
tide becomes funnier the minute i close my
eyes and imagine: the need to blink upon
opening my eyes again...
this lazy uvula... soar throat...
more like: the uvula made a bed from the tongue
and forgot to dangle:
my mouth the church bell: the uvula the gong...
but not this lounging...
*****-****** ****** off too many times:
milking cow ******* thrice daily state of
sick... common sick... boring sick...
where the everest of the major discomforts...
like the ghost leg of an amputee?
teasing fate?
fun out of what? low i.q. or...
            karma-paranoia?
      choice of words... lepidopterological ask:
a cloud of:        e     d      r
                        a      b     n     o   r
                             i     h     m   p   w:
red baron whimp...
this... monolingual fetish for... best we not learn
another tongue in fear of becoming schizoprenic /
bilingual... need fortifications!
anagrams and crosswords!
the trouble of meeting an english native-speaker
half-way...
you'll never meet an english native-speaker
half-way... either way or no way...
a rare event... sooner coming across
a polyglot or a polymath than a willing...
native bilingual...
greenwich meridian: bellybutton people
of the world: the center of attention!
     even if the natives go against the welsh...
from the outside looking in?
not that many compliments going to scotland...
gaelic somewhat: more like mostly:
the trajectory of: but we kept the accents
the hark-and-harking-sense of sing-along:
tweed and tartan!
yes... but the welsh...
kept... llachar coch
    llaчar coх (cyrillics borrowed)...
or llakhar (kh - к) coх... draig...
gwyn heddwch (hedłх) rhag uchod...
gwyrdd porfeydd isod...
dazzling red dragon:
white tranquilty from above...
green pastures below...
              not so much can be said
about the scots: who "forgot" gaelic...
mainstream...
but: och! the glaswegian accent!
mein herr! what a bounty!
               i have a real problem with schadenfreude...
i don't know... perhaps...
i never appreciated the joke of:
having to walk in someone else's shoes:
literally...
if they are too big: the sensation of
walking the clown's walk
on a ground littered with dead squid...
slipping but not slipping...
otherwise the cramp and "claustrophobia"
of being a tip-toeing geisha...
or something from that chinese nightmare
of the lotus feet of the Song and Qing dynasties...
called: lotus feet... more like...
pork-stilletos choppers...
you can almost spot a hoof in this
man-made deformity...
blah blah all you want about the superiority
of the chinese ideograms: dear ezra...
sure... a chinese ideogram as... a brick
to be lent in building the great wall... against
the mongol...
but... at the end? what's being said:
the crude syllable: chin chong shin diggy diggy.

The waves of peace stroke her feet now
Balms her to the shore of tranquilty;
Caught in the entanglement of solitude
Swayed by the slings and arrows of  outrageous fortunes of a miserable life
She sailed in the sea of turbulence
Wrecked into pieces by the storm of ill-fate
Of persistent misfortunes and hardships
But the sea as a saviour refuged her
In its abode of silence in darkness
It cradled her with its fathomless love
She felt its hands entwining to shield her
The din of the world out there beckons her
Reminding of her ******* to the material life
Bound by wealth, relations and commitment
Who doesn't know the fragility of worldly life?
The empty, barren life which is a monotony;
A servitude of persistent economic drudgery,
Slavery of fidelity in marriage, struggles of motherhood, battle of survival amidst subjugation and *******, the exploitation of naive and untainted people by the wicked souls.
Lashed by her own insecurities and fears
Of constant abuses , she shrinks into darkness, nurturing her bitter memories of the past when her feminity was slaughtered
She realizes that life is an endless labyrinth with no way out
An unsolved riddle with no clues
A language  she can barely understand
Caught in a maze of perplexities of harsh fate of life
She delved for a way of light, hope and peace.
She finally chose her serenity in the deep sea
In its eternity, unperished,uninhabited,
By the assault of the bustling, monstrous world
To lie in peace and happiness forever