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Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
. so yeah, perhaps the aboriginals, the argument for the noble savage is there... point being, they have a narrative, more eloquent than the moneticised outside the frantic fanaticism of Harry Potter, a plagiarism of Merlin... etc. etc., with all the scientific superiority, a narrative in collectivism based upon plagiarism? does it really matter? the people who spurn on the superiority of western culture... let's just say, they love to gamble, but don't understand nature's gambling pattern of weeding out the weak... and... given their opinions? i wouldn't want to share a meal with them... contradictory *******... tell them about the Manchester attacks, and they'll cite Yemen! i find it rather uncomfortable sharing a public toilet with them... to begin with... but eating with them? what a strange anticipation of the most profound profanity!
            
                                 so yeah...
  nice critique...
"philosopher" *** sophist -
namely a rhetorician...

i love the giggles,
don't you love the giggles?

philosophy is something to engage
with, rather than explain...
more a tartar steak than
a medium-done slash of slaughterhouse
debris...

ahem... where's your western narrative?
where is the sociological focus?
the focus point?
the campfire?

  where, is, the, glue?

    can't see it...
western civilization is superior,
i grant you that,
but, where is the self-inflammatory
implosion?
  the self-reflecting critique?

look at your literature!
my good fellow!
  the pop-***** of vampire-clad-
neo-gothica?
you have to be kidding me...
too many facts, imbedded with
seeking counter-doubts (i.e. facts):
compensated with an antithesis
of a narrative principle...

a right, without a wrong...
a fact, without a narrative,
is pointless educational rubric -
no more finding an point
of answer, than regurgitating a bunch
of facts...
      i would be so certain as to joke
about the aboriginal culture...
when the western narration continuum
is plagued,
   by inconsistent narratives...
narratives that would never
want me to allow myself
a focus for congregating...

   no, sorry...
           you sit that **** alone in youir
little group-therapy sessions...
i'm about to do a Pontius Pilate
revision...
   i'm washing my hands away
from the gloat...
i can't stomach it...

      i don't want to stomach it...
i don't even adhere to an I.Q. discussion
as astounding racial differences...
i have already the point breaker:
and why so few black athletes compete
in the swimming events,
while so many are prescribed the
100m / 200m distance?

            what comes naturally...
800m / 1500m races?
white...
          the quasi-marathon running?
evidently Kenyan or Ethiopian...

i hate this, the vest iz v besht...
                       i regurgitate on this
factoid...
               with diarrhoea...

for all the science involved...
what is it, exactly, that constitutes,
the gluing fabric of community?

    i hate to say this,
but seldom facts are a differential aspect
    of exploratory conundrums...
Moby **** type of narratives?
the integral aspects...
      science has overtaken the expression
of life, sanitized it,
   securing an antithesis of
misery and mortality...
                    with: "facts"...
      
i might share the pH scale with someone...
but if i don't share the commonality of
a narrative?
  **** me, third party sources...
why should i share?
we share the same factoid,
why should we even bother consummating
this fact, over lunch?!

no bother!
there is no reason!
      live your life, let me live mine...
but don't you ******* even bother
dictating what i can, or can't do,
on the allowance of having invested
in a private property,
you, *******, english, ****!

  savvy?!

  the vest iz z best-chore...
   sure sure...
      love your literature, wonder
of the ******* world!
          YA ******* and your journalism?
makes Mecca pilgrims blush!
  wonderful!
                
...and for not particular reason...
vampires, werewolves,
zombies, the whole generic
exhausted stereotype -
   applause! applause!
applause!

              what?! health service?
i was lucky to have met up with my socialistic
accessible doctor,
   how many? 2 years to spare from
the last visit...
   zee vest iz z best!

            because why would i have considered
studying chemistry to an edinburgh university
level...
    and not began a post-scriptum of schooling,
beginning work in a supermarket?!

nice narrative, love the advertisement...
keep up the belittling tactic...
   glorifying your ***** wiped clean...
nay bother...
  as the Picts used t say...
                there is an actual masochistic
attache of internalized hate,
that even i can accommodate...

                     i hate gloating,
i hate boasting...
   and i hate the sort of people who
self-identify themselves as philosophers...
rather than sophists...
the sort of people:
who, simply, can't, keep, their, mouths,
shut!

don't criticise cultures,
when your own culture...
   is gearing up to problematic investments
of its own,
most notably, the teenage mental
health crisis...
          please...
                       this is not a time scant
for diminishing the already
queuing problems,
   by resorting to I.Q and race arguments...
the ******* can claim to be
philosophers, and entertain
the centre stage...
   i have a bench...
  in a park, talking to an old east london
geezer about rayleigh bikes...
and the scalpel attitude to
finding a prefix, negation,
                in the word disease...

western civilization has been gripped
with an Sunni Islam virus of
a superiority complex...
             they sure as **** know how
to point the good stuff...
   but slightly less...
                dream-detached when it comes
to the current,
    problems...
                  but hey!
the barbaric peoples are our closest
allies of worthy comparison...
   compare a ******* donkey
to a galloping horse!
  that'll fix it!

- but i thought that western culture was
all for the inbreds,
the down syndromes?
  the last birth mothers?!
   so?
        some cultures are somehow
more clingy to a peoticization of
the past...
    which... says much more...
for what currently grips the western
inconvenience in the pursuit of
a narrative, whether historical,
or fictional.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2016
well, mind you the curvature of the spine,
furry all round,
now glacier smooth with forehead
as naked as a baboon *** -
i'll keep you minding that image -
now, enlighten me,
why are we sending super-expensive
equipment to the celestial sahara
that's mars?
                       why are we gravitating
our inquiry there?
once philosophy was born from awe per se,
now it's born from mindlessness -
and i know it's harsh -
but given the scales, and timing,
i succumb to the physics' time-scale
rather than biology's -
before earth was to be inhabited,
before it was habitable -
the earth was smaller and hotter,
hence the volcanic volatility -
indeed there was life on Mars,
but that life migrated -
it had a different ecosystem -
less obstructive and more inclusive -
when the sun was a higher tier cauldron -
when earth was inhabitable -
when the sun was warmer -
              an earth inhabitable,
life thrived on Mars, once -
but then life on Mars begot migration;
i esteem earth as Australia with all
the convicts dumped on the forgotten
bridges of tectonic continents -
i've been here before, but not in a gorilla suit
readied for a party -
standing outside all of space & time
includes a necessary evil of abstracting either -
and by abstracting creating a different
non-collective narrative -
and so it was:
when the lifespan of the sun at the genesis
point was at its richest,
it soon passed to be excluding,
hence the nadir, the exodus of the sun's lifespan,
when earth became habitable - and was -
prior to the asteroid belt of the celestial
umbilical chord of safety -
still earth resembles the colony that australia
became administering the empire's convicts
among the Aboriginals -
but why probe a dead planet when you
have a dying star to mind?
of course the third planet in question is
Mercury, since Venus is as gaseous
as Jupiter and Saturn -
the world where the red dwarf will become
a spectacular insomnia of the girth,
the equator - but why probe a dead planet?
it's inhabitants never had the same
ecosystem akin to ours - why probe it?
all this work for a ******* ice cube?!
you have to be ******* me!
time-scales, remember, i'm as absurd mentioning
this as society is measuring the Olympic
100 metre sprint akin to formula 1 decimals of
care... i don't care... one finished 1st, the
other 2nd... all it takes is the dipping of
the *** in the sand to begin measuring
the long jump rather than the extended feet mark...
of course there was life on Mars, there was life
on Mars... but the dynamic of the sun changed,
it cooled down... so the next profitable planet
could express itself in evolution
from volcanic eczema... there was once life on Mars,
but there's no longer a case to argue for proof....
globalisation gave us unity among once
warring ethnicities... but that will hardly
accumulate in a trans-global orientation...
i've spotted a u.f.o. once, by god i did...
it was fluorescent like a bug phosphorescent
in the dark with a disco ball *** to shine...
listen... this time-scale is long enough to craft
a future history according to what the Martians
did - and this is my idea of god...
happy? no. sad? no. anything at all? mm...
now we're talking - earth was once
non-habitable, too hot, hence the cold  blooded
lizards akin to birch trees, the scouts of forestry -
then the mammals all confused turning
against each other when the predatory aesthetics
were forgotten at kin and Gemini to lions -
life was once apparent on Mars, but Mars is
a dead planet, i wish it was an antique shop
that the n.a.s.a. hopeful geniuses wish it was...
but it's not... just imagine that train of thought
surrounding the sun like you do with the march
of progress... but with the sun imagine
a rotation of progress...
              hey! i wouldn't be looking for
liquid nitrogen bacteria mummified on Mars...
i'd be wondering how the circle
evolved from O, to 0, to ∞ (8)
given the squish - the opposite of two black holes
colliding; honestly, you can find more meaning
in things while you take the big to be small;
i know i'm not famous among nouns -
i can hardly equal the fame of casual noun usage,
no one can, and i know that the fame i sought
is actually an anonymity in verbs (actions),
i forever the shadow - mind yourself to be content
with such a fate as i have found myself content in
progressing to expressing such a chequered flag -
chequered flag, the irony, the invitation of the many
participants for a game that takes two -
the irony of the chequered flag as the death of chess -
anyway - Mars was once a home to those who
came prior, prior to when earth was not habitable -
bypass Venus and you enter the history of Mercury,
the last rock to be minded -
and no one will prove me wrong, to have lived that
long... it is, i must add, rather dangerous
to posit yourself outside all space and all time -
it's dangerous, there's no saturday night awaiting you,
there's no casual talk over a coffee for mortal
problems taking fold and shape...
once you breach the barriers of sane conclusions
that the river explains you will become a cursor
in the only dimension waiting for you -
a vibrating stasis, imagining geographies for
clearer conclusions of movement -
and since man's technological advances have provided
the entire mapping of the earth,
you will be cleanly placed to usurp any other
imaginings other than those prescribed to
the reduction of yourself as x
moving between             point A                and
                                       point B -
                    now try that without geography
and with knowledge, as the greeks famously answered,
             a coordinating cursor x between
point α                    and                                     ω.
Mark Jun 2020
LUCKY 13 BIG TRIP DIP
From the 12th diary entry of Stewy Lemmon's childhood adventures.

This week my whole family, Smoochy and I, all headed off by car, to the annual big city fair on Friday the 13th. Some people believe an unlucky day of the year and an unlucky number for most. It was a big trip for the whole family, which took about two hours and twenty-five minutes to get there. But, we all still looked forward to it coming around each year, despite the long drive.

I had been to the big city fair, for every year that I can remember. My parents have been going there, every year since they were my age. I thought, 'Man, they must be old now, maybe one hundred and two years old or even a lot more'.

The food stalls were packed full of snacks and different makes of cakes and all kinds of different, yummy-in-your-tummy things, for us kids to eat.

There were stalls selling: Creamy Caramel Cup-Cakes, Limited Edition Lollipop Layered Lamington's and even some, short, swirly, Shortbread Slices. Even, my mum and two, much older, identical, twin sisters, Emma and Jemma, had set up their very own food stall. They, were selling heaps of my colourful creation named, 'A Colourful Take-Away Fruit-Blast In A Bag'.

They, were even selling, clear plastic cups along with a spiral-shaped straw.

But, only for the people, who emailed me for the secret, Jiggy-Jiggy Side-Kick Creation instructions, which was in my third diary entry named, 'Water off a Ducks Back'. Only then, will you remember what the plastic cups are for and how to perform the all important, Jiggy-Jiggy.

There were so many fun rides at the annual big city fair, for all of the kids to enjoy. Like the dodgem cars, a jumping castle and the pirate ship, 'my favourite ride of all time'. I loved sitting at the very back of the pirate ship because, it made me feel really funny in the tummy.

Towards the end of the day, my dad, had bought a ticket in the, Big city annual lucky dip first prize, surprise raffle. He had never been lucky in the big city raffle, all of the previous years before. So, this time, he didn't pick his usual lucky number 7, but instead he picked number 13 and guess what? 'He won the first prize surprise'.

We all went to see what the first prize was, at this year's annual lucky dip surprise raffle. It was a family holiday to thirteen of the world's most colourful cities. The whole family screamed, with joy. But, I then slapped my face a little and said to myself, 'Is this another dream of mine'? 'Nope! this one's for real', mum told me, with glee.

The day had arrived, for the start of our colourful, lucky-dip, big 13, city trip adventure. We had, packed all our bags and I even put in my dad's trusty, fancy, far out, funny binoculars and my very, super, sporty, single-shot, stylish slingshot. Just in case, I needed them both on our exciting city adventures.

My two, much older, identical, twin sisters, Emma and Jemma, had packed their bags full of makeup, creams and a hair styling dryer. While, Lemmy, had his bag packed by our dear mum, Flo, along with her own. While, dad went to his unusually built and outrageously painted, backyard, outback, shed and gathered his tools and paint brushes for the trip.

We headed to the airport, to start our first leg of our adventure to London England. On the first day, we went to visit the queen, in her very large house named, Buckingham Palace. The palace guard's face's didn't move one bit. Even, when dad, tried to make them laugh, with a funny joke or pulling faces at them, to make them smile.

Then, off we went, to see Big Ben. It was built years ago along the river Thames. We, then went to see some old rocks called, Stonehenge. Nobody knows exactly, why they were made. Their just placed, all alone, located in the middle of a large field, gathering moss and all still on show.

We then took a ferry ride across the English Channel and hopped off in the Netherlands. We all stayed in the very colourful city of Amsterdam. Mum, loved all of the beautiful flowers and my two, much older, identical, twin sisters, Emma and Jemma, especially loved trying the, unusual sweet cakes and drinks in the many cafes all spread about town. While dad, Lemmy, Smoochy and I, really enjoyed riding the bikes along the paths, on the side of the long and winding canals.

Then, we went to the beautiful, but cold country of Norway. We stayed in the capital city of Oslo. We took a boat ride through the icy fjords and I even thought, I saw that whale that winked at me, on that adventurous day out at, Slip-Slop-Slap Bay.

We then went by bus up north to see the Aurora Lights. Wow! what a sight. It was like daytime, even at ten thirty at night.

I even thought maybe, Stefan Pettersson from North Poland the ski instructor at Shivermytimbers Ski Lodge, lived close to here.

Next city was Paris the city of lights in the country of France. We went up the Eiffel Tower and I pulled out dad's fancy homemade binoculars from my bag and had such wonderful views of the city and then took a taxi for a ride through the streets of Paris and even went under the historical Arc of Triumph. Then we all went to see the great artwork and sculptures at a place called the Louvre. We saw a serious painting of a sad lady named Moaning Lisa; at least that's what I think the tour guide said.

The next morning we boarded a small plane and landed in the very watery city of Venice in Italy. I thought we were going to land on water, just like Buck the Duck does back at the small village pond. The city is surrounded by water and everyone travels by a small boat called a gondola which weavestheir way through the water canals and under all the old bridges. Smoochy even climbed up into the top left-hand side pocket of the Italian man sailing the boat, to get a better view. The food was so colourful in Italy, like the spaghetti, pizzas and delicious and colourful gelato.

Egypt was our next adventure stop and we went to the ancient city of Cairo. The very old Pyramids were out of this world, with precision angles and stones that fitted together ever so well. A cruise on the long Nile River was very exciting to see as well. It went from one end of the country to the other, but we only travelled on it for a mile or so.

Then off to Thailand and to the capital city named Bangkok, the busiest city of them all. There were cars, taxis, two wheeled motorbikes and funny three wheeled colourful ones called

Tuk-tuks. There was traffic and people everywhere we went and a lot of confusion by the Lemmon's when trying to cross the busy streets. We even visited some very old Buddhist Temples in the countryside and had some lunch that was extremely hot stuff, which made us all, puff. They gave us bread and water to cool our mouths down afterwards. Mum said, oh what a colourful and spicy city it is, and I love there ancient culture and friendliness of their people.

Off to the big red and easy going country of Australia tomorrow. We visited a place in the middle of nowhere called Alice Springs, which was in the Northern Territory of Australia. The next day we climbed up a rock named Uluru that was a sacred area for Aboriginals, the original inhabitants of Australia. We took a trip to a beautiful area up north of the Northern Territory called Kakadu National Park. Where we saw big red kangaroos, crocodiles and even some emus. One kangaroo even to try and box dad, but dad ran away and said, ‘He would fight him, but he forgot his gloves’.

We then headed off to China and the island of Hong Kong. What a very old and colourful city it was, with so many colourful buildings to see. In the large harbour we saw painted fishing and food boats cruising around.

Brazil Rio de Janeiro was next and we even saw the famous Carnival, with people dancing to a very cool beat. All dressed up and having the best party of all time. Down on the beach people were swimming and surfing and lying about in the sun. We even went to see a football match with USA v Cameroon playing, oh so well, for the winner would get its hand on a large world cup. We also saw a very large statue of an important man perched on a mountain.

USA was the last country to visit before our adventures would come to an end. We landed in Los Angeles and went straight to the magical kingdom of Disneyland. We did a day tour of Universal Studios where they make all the great movies.

Off to Nevada we drove and stayed one night in the ever so bright Las Vegas, oh what colourful sites we saw from our seventeenth floor suite hotel window. There were so many colourful casinos stretched out as long as you could see which light up at night alright. Dad even said you could see the lights from outer space. The next day we took a flight over the Grand Canyon in a Hot Air Balloon. We saw beautiful waterfalls and even saw people on donkeys riding down far down below.

New York was our last city to visit; it was especially dad's favourite city, because his ancestors had lived there for years, before coming to live in our village of Shimmerleedimmerlee to start a family, all those years ago.

The Empire State Building was an historic tall building that even once had a gorilla on top making a movie. Statue of Liberty was so fun to climb up and see all the lights of New York from across the Hudson River.

We took a horse drawn carriage ride in Central Park and even saw a memorable garden for the ex-Beatle John Lennon.

While travelling the New York subway to get to Soho we saw some great graffiti artwork sprayed on council approved walls.

The next day we were heading back home, which is nestled amongst the trees on a hill, in a little country village, called Shimmerleedimmerlee.
© Fetchitnow
20 October 2019.
This children’s fun adventure book series, is only for children from ages, 1-100. So please enjoy.
Note: Please read these in order, from diary entry 1-12, to get the vibe of all of the characters and the colourful sense of this crazy mess.
Don Brenner Oct 2010
The curves on a brachiosaurus
make Queen Latifah seem like a beach towel.
The jaws on a tyrannosaurus rex
make Jay Leno augment his chin.
The spikes on a stegosaurus
make Travis Barker shave his head.

Latifah Leno Barker
hunt for dino flesh
like aboriginals
chase mammoth with sticks
stones and fire dances.


Yeah, I'd pay to see that.
2010
Sumit Ganguly Mar 2017
Power reserves forest land,
wild aboriginals lose teeth and claws
people enjoy them on magic carpet.

Dams Reserve water,
like lachrymal gland of eye
woes overflow as tears.

Reserved category once lived
in gigantic palaces,
now museums preserve grand air.

Reservation,
a social discrimination,
starts silent revolution.
Mateuš Conrad May 2016
the aboriginal have their paddles out... between
each rower an anchor replacement, protesting shadows
with words: i'm anchored, i ain't moving...
imagine Euro-vision in Melbourne.
i've never experienced such
a continental drift,
my god i've heard of men walking
the moon but this beats it,
i know the nostalgia for the roman empire
is stronger, stronger even than
the nostalgia of german poets regarding
ancient greece, but this is becoming insane!
i know the u.s.a. is in a state of decay,
they joked at the billionaire because of his
looks, but Donald Reagen was but an actor,
who's ha ha with me?
seriously, they told the aboriginals to take up
the oars, Australia will replace England
on the map, just waiting for the lazy Blair elites
to pick up theirs and sail to be the eastern
Hawaii off New Jersey, buggers are too lazy...
wait a minute? why did they include
Australia in the Euro-vision song contest and
not the Kiwis? this is becoming a fiasco as funny
as the hot debate about "peace in the middle east":
serve me the ******* falafel and shut up,
i wouldn't eat McDonald's either, i'll do the nursery
rhyme, but that's as far as i go.
no seriously, why teach geography to children
with all these anomalies? if the Australian
CONTINENT is to replace the great british isles
they'll knock off a bit of Africa on their way here,
that "island" will be a bit of a tight squeeze
to get it through in the continental drift...
oh! oh! like that newly weds car with cans attached
to the bumper, load of cans and christmas tree bulbs,
why don't Fiji and Samoa come along?
i'm sure they'd love to kiss-mooch-mooch with Rhodes
and Corfu... i never thought breeding idiots would
be so easy.. i guess my satire lacked the imagination...
again, seriously, how far is Europe going to extend,
the Israelis love doing politics with America
but prefer to sing and a kick about ******'s
castrato end-product with Europe
(Colonel Bogey March theme-tune, Albert,
say it's true? you do have have that famous Fabergé?!
ooh problems with the connection
at the vote count, Mossad agents aplenty)...
this ain't the new Soviet union, **** sake's
Azerbaijan? new Rome is stretching it,
oblivious to international free trade, it's having
plastic surgery as we speak... when this **** falls
apart i don't want to be here, it's already funny as hell,
i'm just looking out for the next Mongol horde to
smack it into soberness, since it didn't learn how to
laugh drunk.
Francie Lynch May 2022
The papers are wet with ink.
Russia is losing it's war.
North Korea is swamped with the Covid.
Tucker is backpedaling his replacement theory.
Finland and Sweden are enrolling.
Armament shipments are making a difference.
The Pope is apologizing.
That needs repeating: The Pope is apologizing.
(But why stop with the Aboriginals. Consider the Jews and Irish).
Fossil fuels are on the decline.
(plastic microchips are in our fat)
I can still buy Roundup.
Tobacco is banned in most public places here.
*** is not.
There are more drunks, and more behind bars, and in front.
We have safe injection sites.
I have robots asking me if I'm a robot.
There are more tv stations selections.
TV is not worth watching.
LPs are making a comeback.
Right to Life is Wrong for Many.
... and on... and on
Nyssa Jan 2019
Australia Day, what an awful time
Our country has no culture, no meaning, no rhyme.

It’s funny you see how we tell people to go back to their own country, When we invaded them, took their land and their sea.

Dear aboriginals, I’m so sorry.
It’s your land, and your cultures are the only thing that belong here.
Classy J Aug 2015
Yeah, i'm walking in these streets, where there is violence and there is not enough to eat. Poverty stricken everyone is looking for their next fix and aboriginals get ticketed for being aboriginals. Life is full of despair, is there someone out there who cares, because rich snobs think they better, yeah they think they so neat. They couldn't even survive on welfare, or let alone survive in this hell hole, they to busy being political. Left side, right side, there doesn't seem to be a spectrum when people keep dying on these streets. It's a cold world with cold people to hot in themselves, if we all just came together we wouldn't even be in this mess. Crime is just a everyday thing, people cheat, people beat on each other, and it's not all about race but ignore me, shut me down, keep listening to your garbage beats. Governments control the world, we are all in the same boat, controlling us like they're some kind of doctoral Jesus to them we surrender and confess. Sorry I am not your puppet, government you may be the devil but I will not be your advocate. I will no longer let your lie's keep corrupting my mind, I am a self made man with a God given plan, so try to stop me, but the dice will no longer be in your hands. Hurt people in this hurt society, but all wounds can heal eventually, even something as catastrophic as this detriment. Walking down the road of pain, people trying to survive so bad they deemed insane, they've been detained, they've been banned, some try for a job but a lot get canned. Hard times in these rough neighbourhoods, and in reality there is no robin hood. Cold winters, scorching summers, begging for help, when about half of them will spend it on *****. Yeah, I see these things all the time as I walk down these streets, but there is organizations out there like hope mission that so some real good. So maybe there is some real hope after all, but we should do more for each other instead of just accusing and misusing.
Classy J Sep 2014
People have called us a lot of things Savages, Indians, Aboriginals, Prairie N*s, Reznecks, or Monsters. Are we truly savages, monsters or are you  the true Savages and monsters. We lived good, but then Christopher Columbus happened and we've never been the same. Got slaughtered, *****, caught your vile diseases. We did not do anything to you, if it weren't for us you wouldn't have survived in the ''new world''. Forced us into reservations, tried to make us ''civil'' what the hell does that mean? Look in the mirror to see the real monsters. Bombing Hiroshima, killing millions in Iraq and Afghanistan for no reason, making a group called the kkk, etc. Native's are not the problem, the problem is you. I'm not saying native people are perfect, we did a fair share to our own people. I'm just saying their is a problem with our society, that has tried to shove what they did to our culture under the carpet for way too long. It's time for the truth to come out, it's time for us to have true equality between our culture's, it's time for a true honest apology, and to give us back our land that you stole or let us govern the land that we have, without any interference from the government.
My questionee is the first born of Europe,
Mr. England the royal son of Europe
Who chewed and still chews
Fortunes from the colonies
With the mighty of hyena mandibles
When its canine teeth penetrate
Rotten pork in the helm of day’s starvation.

My questions come to you England and your brothers;
The European immigrants who left their home
To usurp land in the African territory of Australia,
Then with all imperial mighty you decimated
The human race of Africans, which you called a dog’s name;
The fitlhy, uncouth, loatish, oafish, and worthless aboriginals,
Which you deemed humanity so useless that deserve not to own any country
As God was so idiosyncratic to give such heavyweight buffoons
Like the African natives of Australia such a fertile land,
Why did you **** my brothers in Australia?
And you replace them with your sons and daughters,
To shamelessly occupy land which is not their ancestral home?
You ravenous Europeans who will heal you from the bug of colonial syndrome?
Before you answer, wisdom of time commands European settlers to quit Australia,
To bring to an end ignominious civilization of colonialism.
Gulshan bhardwaj May 2015
Young man with braided hair.
"But that's for girls!"
Yet he does not care.
Through braids, he's one with the natural world

Elaborate feathered head dress
Upon a woman's head.
"Those are simply meaningless."
But the tradition is not dead.

"Aboriginals are lazy."
They hunt and skin animals everyday
This renders you crazy!
Very hard work, I would say.

You call them uneducated,
For "They are not smart."
They should not be degraded.
You've been different from the start.

"Their skin is always red."
You may be fairly close.
But their hearts are not dead.
Like yours, each beat is a song note.

"They live off of alcohol."
That's a fairly generic thought.
It's not the case at all.
We've given reason to drink to numb the pain.

Dark  hair and dark eyes,
Is how they're often seen
In this racist world we live in.
Perhaps, we only see what's skin deep.....
For God so loved the world
He let his own son get murdered
In front of the world
Prosecution set execution
Women men to children
Seen the casted sin
Of an innocent man
Locked up for nothing
All because he was a glutton
To punishment
Mankind is a threat to self
Gotta make laws to feed themselves
Subconscoius bruised I ain't amused
Mad cuz I don't gotta short fuse
And in the news
They persecutin' brothers black n Hispanic like Jews
And the Indian can't get they own land back
Aboriginals coming back home
But don't worry there's a plot
For secret attacks pass that
Mack and let me load it
Unload it as the shots exploded
Brain imploded
Of the elite
Those for all of the lies told in guise
LeArned wisdom
From the serpents above got no love
To these hypocrites
Hanging on double standards
Evrybody loves Jesus
But they ain't down with em
Hit em like hammer but it will hurt
Slow yo roll if you wanna be the one in the dirt
I expose flies of the American pies
We ain't gone get a piece
So I might as well die
For the cAuse once I open my jaws
I get a round of applause
From the spirits dancing above my head never fled
From the source so **** the source
I'm the black matyr
Like baking soda n water
Rising like dough you need to gt smarter
The universe ain't went no where
Everybody entertained over there
Lost souls glancing
And I'm reading spiritual books right here check the glare
I see Times a ticking guns clicking
War horns is pinching
Off the fat man lips soon to take a trip
To the white house with my angry mobs
Just burning the clips binggggg
Clelia Albano Mar 2019
Take me to the xylographs of Tunis
Where silken shades of colour  
Dissolve and reassemble  

Take me to the white veils of sand
Along with Elysia
To the oils of Giverny scented with
Climbing roses  

( I want to touch them with my fingers)

Take me to the orange rows of Laos and  
-further away-  let me
Into the magic Australian Outback

( I want to count how many dots exploding  
The picturesque of Aboriginals)

Take me to Berlin before the curtain on
The Night
To the peripheries of the world

( I want to look in the eye the eyes kept prisoner by Time)
Then let me into the remote echo of the invisible squares
mt Dec 2014
A stream bubbles light.
Soda pop life.
Dappled leaves on thin silver trees.
Pegs in the ground,
we weave we weave we weave,
The strings of our reality,
Laughter. Laughing laughing
lafter lafter, after,
getting dafter.
Splash,
soaked in the stream,
the bubbles bubble bubble,
just a dream.

My dad says if you get wet you should take off your clothes,
'Cos clothes is what caused the aboriginals to sneeze and cough,
And die,
That far off word.

So shivering,
As a breeze sneaks in from the edge,
We wait for mum to collect a naked boy.
He's crouched in his nakedness.
Instinctually hoarding warmth.
As the echoes of laughter
Are less sure of themselves,

Then mum comes to find the absurd.
A visit from another world.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
.                  am i really 32?
  seriously?
have i lived a live
most insulated...
did i forget something?!
did visiting a
brothel do this to me,
that i do not speak
the lingo,
and have no idea,
what these people are talking
about, or have any desire
to find out?
   i was never a big fan
of graffiti art...
and since the current
internet lingo is very
much akin to graffiti art...
i'm quasi-old:
qua-sigh old...
            i'm not in on it...
have i really lived
such an insulated life?
      perhaps i enjoyed
drinking too much,
and blacked out too often
to catch-up with the trends...
point being?
NO, *******, CLUE...
    perhaps i fell asleep
listening to too many
horror movie soundtracks...
perhaps i was asleep
prior to waking up as a man,
as was, somehow yesterday's
gorilla...
     but i guess it began with
no attache of moral superiority...
but there is...
a concept of aesthetic
etiquette...
   what sort of man sends
a picture of his genitals to a girl?
no moral question:
an aesthetic etiquette question:
and that's a biggie...
  life-sized hot air balloon!
can't miss it...
   or if you do...
you're ******* your own
**** with your eyes closed...
or attempting Olympic quality
gymnastics...
i missed something...
didn't i?
       the missing transaction...
if you pay a woman
to have ***, she can't claim
a **** allegation...
  she can claim not being
payed...
   oh sure...
it's so sad, yet somehow *****
when she starts crying
in the thick of it...
     what is confusing is
the clarity of the transaction...
   wait...
did i pay for an ice-cream cone?
did i "say" this, "out-loud"?
   go figure...
ask the Turkish mafia...
who? the Turkish pimps
who run the Bulgarian ****-show...
   i'm still missing something...
4chaan... what did i miss?
is this some sort quasi
rekindling
of the Microsoft chat rooms from
the early 2000s?
   they must be...
they look like those chat rooms...
crude, rude,
and ready to ensure a begetting
of guillotined head,
rolling... like a pair...
of dice...
   did i miss something?!
   you can't experience a **** allegation
with a *******...
       not that **** is involved...
like the bloodhound gang song:
a lap dance is so much better
when the stripper is crying...
      can't say the same when she is,
having revealed she drank herself silly
and is ******* you...

herr metzger, treffen frau fleisch...

i should really stop watching these
youtube channels regarding
social / political commentaries...
drama seeped in...
    ****'s becoming tedious...
i'm losing appetite for these whining
******* and gimps...
     my drinking habit is turning sour...
i'm watching
teenage girls make videos about
their readings habits while
tuning off from
the   thron von throne exercise of...

taking a ****...
massaging my prostate by
relaxing my **** muscle contraction,
taking a ****,
then jerking off...
1, 2... and 3...
   no. 1, no. 2, no. 3...

          so... no one in western Europe
is worried about
the... Ukrainian application
to the European Union?
  Turkey came first?
really?!
  you sure?
           oh i'm pretty sure the Veesteern
Poowers... were more abject
about the power 8...
than about some aboriginals
from former colonies...
          
but i missed something on 4chan...
the gegenwärtigsprechen?
  missed it, by an internet mile...
which is like from here...
  to              here...
and it's actually from here to Jupiter...


about that...
when you **** a ******* that's crying?
and you can't stop...
and you made the monetary exchange...
Alice in Wonderland...
      so... where's the ****?
not having paid her...
or the fact that she's so drunk
that all her hidden emotions overflow
into a rainbow of tears?

crude ******* that i am...
     left with only a metzger
(butcher) appreciation of fleisch (flesh)...
   yet i remember this one
instance...
   being laughed at for my medical
condition...
however politicized,
or however actualized....

       i didn't like it...
        i didn't like it,
because once i did likewise,
but retracted my original jest,
made an apology,
   and later talked with the original
aggrieved party over
a pint of beer in a pub...
and we managed to coerce ourselves
into mutually respectable civility...

but... there are simply some *****...
who keep grudges...
jealousy is a *****-god
of the Hebrews who...
oddly enough...
have arisen... and who always
levitate...
    above their God...
the Hebrews are above their God...
of other people:
their God or (s) is
a motivational tool to surpass
themselves...
the people are little
when compensated by their gods...

but the Hebrews?!
their God: is an abomination...
   what sort of envy is... jealousy?
skiving, ignoble latitude of
envious brewing sentiment...

now...
the Hebrews lie about their God...
they lie about their God,
they lie about their God
because their God...
has no attributes worth
emulating...
   nothing worth replicating...
nothing worth considering a mimic...

and i agree...
true wisdom comes from a God
"despised", or rather shunned...
but more or less borderline
kept on a leash of memory...

   wisdom from a fear of a despicable god,
rather than "wisdom" from a love
of a desirable god, father- or mother-figure.

that's how the Hebrews worked it out...
their god is not the most existent god,
the god apparent...
   it's that...
   they cannot claim a theological pride
in their deity,
  or claim it was culturally sound
to keep his visage beyond anything more
than four letters...

Muhammad is but a man...
the TETRAGRAMMATON?
the tetragrammaton is not a man!

oh... right... the other thing...
making fun of medical conditions...
supposing a hierarchy...
   depression... ha ha!
schizophrenia... ha ha!

well then...
                   cancer... HA HA!
Marthin Oct 2019
We both were aboriginals.

Knowing nothing but to rely on primal instincts, we only knew how to devour. Using tactics on how to conquer each other as if beguiled by omniscience.

Carnal instincts propagate as we continue to intertwine our own bodies, matching each other’s cadence. Not even Clausius nor Thomson or even Carnot could determine the Temperature that both our bodies emit.

Lost in the heat of the moment, we continue to confront in sensual interaction, as if taken a drug that took us high.

We both let out melodious keys that resound symphonically. As if tranqualized, we lay there, our bare skin covered in sparkling translucent sweat. Our eyes coincide, within them, a faint trace of sweetness mixed with heat and love. Our cheeks, colored like plump cherries on early spring.

Lastly we close our eyes and drift within the dreamland. Guided by Hypnos himself, we transverse the foreign land, with nothing but the burning memory that made us melt like candlesticks that once held a majestic flame.
Since the sun kissed my skin
I knew what I was in
For not many want to go to war
To juggle the obstacles
Hands on my testicles holding testament
To my confinement enemies circumvent
Your pain to keep energies drain
Claim I'm.insane
Cuz I see the rain before it came
And pour down
On mankind's miscount blessing
Everyday stressing nerves clenched
On the all the pain
Going on I'm trying free your mind
But too many wanna hold on

Now troubles never worry me if I die I'll just be set in the sun's energy
Returning as the lost king of stolen dynasty
Earth ain't nothing but a catastrophe
Took from the aboriginals
I'm smoking reefs like coral and let it marinate my oral
I got much love to my barrio providing knowledge to a broken people
Though evil sees no restoration from pain
Cuz it needs negativity to order maintain mundane
Still trying to season my grain understand my lane since I got close to being a Black Superman
Along with my Black Queen i love her skin tone my Louis Lane
Like night, it settles upon me,
Around dawn i begin to chew my thoughts,
I put the sauce of time in this platter,
I fry memories with minced and chopped culture.
There's so much to write about you,
about me, about so many rivers, stars
towns, cities, sorrow, joy, laughter-
as they share miserable,
poorly dressed stories.
There's no one to understand this,
there's nothing assured in meaning,
They call God Dieu in french,
Maybe the aboriginals call God something else,
Why should you name someone and attach stories?
We begin to originate from this point,
And we end.
A soft melody begins to die at the end of the road,
The tambourine man has left you,
He has taken away your tattered coat
You/I begin to question, these things at dawn,
while an old physicist feels afraid of death, at night.
A poet feels afraid of time, burning bright.
A city feels afraid of cafes, at noon,
A society feels afraid of stories, and ideas.
They come and go,
Breaking and assuring again,
your status quo.
I understand i cannot hold water in my palms,
I understand I cannot hold burning coal in my hands,
I do not mean.. symbols can be frightening.
I just want to add a little mystery to my life.
Like night it settles upon me,
And I begin to chew my thoughts,
I mince and chop memories,
At dawn, it stops.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2017
i'm after the sheep, and let it be known that: i am the wolf... albeit my argument is a simple 1 + 1 = 2... and there's certainly some archaeological facts to consider as there are, qualms, to reconsider, in that: being engaged with... how boring life seems, without a shadow of doubt, or as kant would have said: shadow = something cold... well, with denial having to shadow, other than the body of audacity in lies... reviving doubt and engraving it in its shadow form, can be far from not being "uneventful"; true logic resides in grammatical shrapnel, conjunction, adverb, verb, preposition, etc., inverted dittoing is, oh so most faithful in the role of the prescribed tool of a hammer to a nail.

there might have been *the word

in the beginning of creation,
but there certainly wasn't
the onomatopoeia -
because that's that foxes mating
on a november night feels like:
i.e.: alright clear-****-antic-genius:
you try to get a word into
the affair! no?! no luck?!
i was just like you:
                                      no luck.
there are actually places in this
world the medium of god
does not reach, or ergo, fathom...
here resides a satan that
masquerades an accuracy -
     why do i celebrate a satan?
**** me, i'm not the one
auld lang syne - but with blind
milton i can compete...
               how can you possibly
engrave god in every creation,
worded, when man is
inaccessible in engraving it...
  sure, the cuckoo, the serpent's hiss,
but language has barriers as to
what can can be question by god
who is fathomed by words...
deus est non hic omnin -
god is not all "there" -
why? because man cannot engrave
the animal onomatopoeia -
i can't the mating of two foxes with
words -
  i'd have to be reductionist wriggling
in depicting ******* *****,
you, sick, ****!
                     no, god is not everywhere,
god exists in what i write,
but when i comes to foxes
i can name a creature, but i can't
write you an onomatopoeia of
a fox's mating calls, once more:
you, sick, ****!
                       if the genesis story is
true: god does not watch ******* *****,
sometimes a sound is but a noun,
on the rare occasion an onomatopoeia...
but that's ******* rare...
           if god is the word,
he's not exactly apparent in the moaning
& groaning of foxes mating in the night
in early november...
                 i can't spell out the sound
these male & female foxes made...
   clues: hey! god isn't omnipresent!
            proof?
  you wanna hear two foxes having
a go at making a litter of vixens?!
come to essex in november...
  have a whiskey sharpshooter while you're
at it...
              now try to put those sounds
into writing:
let me give you one word of advice
you'll most certainly need: FAIL!
      ******* aboriginals of
culture...
                   you do not have the tools
to note the exactness or proximity of sound...
we already know this due to
edenic english, with its missing diacritical
marks... ******* thought they were "smart"...
       yep, smart enough to
remember including a full-stop,
  jolly-roger wankers,
                                    ****-load of cockneys.
you'll sooner name a hydrocarbon
than a mating call of a ******* sparrow -
   you'd need a satanic alphabet to
actually write, the exactness of the "words"
spoken by other animate things...
        as any architect will tell you:
i can make a ******* violin from a horse'd
mane and some oak...
             noun vectors -
but the onomatopoeia observer?
no one but satan...
                       ultra diacritical ambitions are
at play...
                    there are the obvious:
the cuckoo with its coo coo echo chamber...
but the growl of a lion is hardly
polished goods minded by a grrrr...
           so it appears, man akin to god
is not omnipresent, when sharing the medium
of encoding sounds, perhaps genius
in terms of photography,
  but may i stress, a necessity akin to milton,
of toying if not merely admiring
the vanity project of any man befitting,
in complimenting satan?
          even if we do reach mars,
we will never write down in all concerns of
accuracy, a "worded" attempt at replicating
the mating calls of foxes in the early november night;
am i right to add a peckish,
if not an outright piquant: oops?!
Thoughts of Death

Death is a foreign country
I wish not to go there as I'm only used to life
despite we do our best to destroy our planet.
The aboriginals in Australia call death
dream time, there are times when I ask if life
is dream time and death is a reality.
To meet souls who cannot dream floating about
as dust in a landscape of oblivion.

— The End —