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‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
This is an edited, expanded, expounded, confounded, reverberation of Linguistic Illusions to Probable Solutions written months back.
Ruminating epoché,
‘I am…’ ‘Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay.
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay
Initiatives imperative consolidation,
Civilly disobedient in expedient disarray.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
Forecast in vague extrapolation,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating the linguistics of silent enclaves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
Probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
The Apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging Aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
Villain villainous vicarious, voracious or a vorate,
a Vulcan hell, a chthonic well, Megaron or substrate,
we find ourselves imagining some patterns in the stars,
with characters traveling -across this field of view of ours.

One will often contemplate the possibilities,
of all the fancied origins, of life in heaven's seas,
did Kronos eat the five they say?
Or does the day disguise them?

Perhaps he eats them every night,
as they dip on the horizon!
Rhyme, Greek mythology, cosmogony as rhyming poetry. All star characters die with the day in TIME.
They've all moved to L.A now.
Their temples alit by silver screen
belief in Hollywood dreams.

Pilgrims travel from all around
to new sanctuaries;
to New Delphi,

to see them in the flesh,
their idols who have fallen from
the light polluted skies.

Carved and polished out of Parian marble
And pasted onto magazines.
Sculptured into new realities.

Still the priestesses; the press,
will whisper the gossip
from high in the clouds.
Written sometime toward the end of 2011.
Gods of Olympus
I call to you once again
Remember the little cherub?
She is dead, isn't she?
Hades, you saw her in the pit of hell
Burning, dying every single day
Just like her humanity
Slowly fading
Her love turns to anger turns to hate
Cruel Eros, he planned her death with Aphrodite
Together, they succeeded
A battle between the mind and heart.
Once again, they prove Athena and her kids can be conquered.
The Gods watch her die but still kept her body alive.
Why are you all staring at me?
I'm not her. I'm not questioning you from your actions.
I feel less emotion.
I'm an empty vessel.
A reincarnation of an angel who lost her way.
Gods guide me, for I am a new born
In the body of this dead angel, I'll inhabit.
Her body. My soul.
I would like to revise this but I'll do it later.  I need sleep.

If you were able to read SM cherub's God of Olympics, this is the second part of it. I feel sorry I deleted that account.
Mysterious Etrusca!
Strange Etrusca!

Ten lupine stars rush from behind,
Supine pellucid moon,

Prowling Etrusca!
Growling Etrusca!

Brauroi women, anguished screams,
Pinned by Tyrrenia’s swoon,

Cry out, Etrusca!
Die out Etrusca!

And ships set sail for journey’s end,
Tales of victory, they croon…

Oh my Etrusca!
Cruel sigh, Etrusca!
Rustle McBride Jun 2016
The battle was imminent.
The forces were joined.
No longer was time standing idle.
Outnumber and ******
by 100 to 1,
the Spartans stood fervid and vital.

The Greeks were united,
though the Spartans alone
were the ones charged with their protection.
At Thermopylae pass,
300 men stood
together in imperfect perfection.

"Surrender your arms"
King Xerxes demanded,
"Surrender, and let the Persians betake them."
Leonidas replied "Molon Labe!" my foe,
**"If you want them, then you come and take them."
The beginning of a poem i'm working on about King Leonidas response to the Persians who demand that they lay down their arms and surrender to the superior force of 300,000 men.
With a body of curves, like no other, a true image of the magnificent, celestial mother.

And flowing as a spring with infinite roar, yet one small detail one could not ignore.

Her hair was a torrent, a weathering storm, scattering birds, attracting lightning; a whirlpool in form.

This visage, this appearance, so strange, so bizarre; face of spinning waters, as brilliant as stars.

Falling in love with her, into her flows, where everyone knows where the torrid passion goes.

In drowning descent, never returning from the throes, Land of Sleep, a beast awaits; the awful Kro-nos.
Charybdis is the whirlpool that descends to the underworld. She is the source of the word Caribbean. This is metered poetry. I believe Charybdis is in fact all the oceans around the Eurasian landmass, swirling as a gigantic whirlpool that in ancient times would bring any ship down whom ventured to stay at sea too long.
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