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Timothy Brown May 2014
We held hands as time's sand
passed between. Night chocked
the last sun beams. Our conversation
was pertinent to the dwindling
red wine bottle. As the moon glazed
shore began to roar, she whispered
"Let's cuddle." I dropped you, holding her,
and thought "Oh" and began to coddle.

I wrapped myself around her like a shell to a turtle
and she began to nestle on my chest. I guessed
the indigestion came from the Bordeaux bottom.
Boy, was I wrong. See, as I lay with her,
forgetting about you, I remembered
blood is thicker than water. The loves
we choose are stronger than ones
We've fallen into. I wasn't falling there,
underneath the stars, next to the parked car.
I was laying. I was contemplating
as the wind was spraying the lake
into the air.

I came to the conclusion
I was in an illusion of  love.
Confounded by smoke and reflections
from movie magicians. She looked up
to me and I guess she could see
my reality crumbling in the breeze.
She asked if I was ok. My slight smile alluded
I was and we laid in love
until the sun's intrusion.
©May 11th, 2014 by Timothy Brown.
ArturVRivunov Oct 2011
life is never what it seems to be, always reoccuring with a thought as put upon the length of arms that revolutionize this thought. . .for those that can be bought,
is day like today less then feeling of want to rot, because so simple as a breeze brought down your temperment to be pleased. . .caught in a storm, that has outlasted
longer then your heart to feel content and warm, to feel the essence of a breath among a group of bad breaths, in other words, to breath among a group of brothers and sisters
from whom you can gain so much. But life is never what it seems to be, instead you look yourself in the mirror pointing at me, you, fool. Glowing from ragging frustration,
the toll blows for you unsurpassable deflation, because it is not for your hand that grows for the motion, to pick which ******* **** you want to lotion. Spearing the reasons,
the ego is your hero, born to work zero, and trusted with such hand to uphold all by command. To twist on the ****, that opens your door, to circumstances i certainly care less
the **** to continue to explore. But with this slight little mention, please pay close attention because this song is a *****. At least to explain the message, my whole is a
whole that takes life time to experience and grow, and appreciate the things that stoop all the levels around me, no barrier, no door, just genuine life experience to bring me
to come to this point to explain to the world something within the self, that is described by astute persons, for whom these ideas carry on to fulfill an immense part of
something that is casually slipped in and never thought about because it is told within reason that humanity cannot be without such astute person's idealogy. For **** sake my
friend, if your have many common sense, think of the common thing that has driven you to come to the conclusion that you have come to about anything. Everything is absolute and
existent and is evoked through the means. . .from the time of your dissapating freedom, as kids, not as adults, because look at how adults are this days. They teach their kids,
and they let others teach their kids, but the kids never get the feeling of being free. I promiss you, that cry or emotion you have experienced due to lack of friendliness from a
neighboring ****, it is an instillement that sparks up many motions of your life to believe into bizarre things the world portrays. For myself, I find the starting point of my
when I first breathed my first sensible air, when I walked in my own two feet without guidance as to where my eyes were seeing. How can a mind be so tender, lost by the misconformed
train thogh after train thought. That is why I find schooling such a fascinating ruthless thing that can be broken into several fashions as to why is that case. But not even
reason to fashion an answer that I know will and is definetly can be viewed to abhold a societal dismark of "wF"is wrong with that guy's mind. He must be **** casing a storm to
bring an ideaology of thought or some **** religion, but that's what so funny to me. I find everything in life comedic, non concerning except at times if I feel similar to
someone adjacent because that is their essence in my prescence, and I feel the need to comfort it, to bring back the importance of that self. The part of life I find so comedic,
how bits and bits and everything with **** have all so many fascinating
things to learn from, the progression of one's mind never attains self worth in the world with something interfering. That something interfering for example, is me personally
writing what is can be taken as pointless and presenting my writing to you how I say I do. But did I say how I am presenting this writing, absolutely not. So brings the funny,
that school teaches the aspect of disfigurament of a person's essence. This thing is a complete oblivion to everything and anything, that because even though I did not specify
how I tone myself on this paper, there is the predicament to assume that I am very angry deranged person who but pokes charasmatically at something no one can grip, because he
is portraying me the image the way I was bred to see. But then it is so **** funny, you can also take my words describing
all that I intend to explain and stick them against me to simplify your circumstances as to the causitive feeling your experiencing, and maybe the confusion that I am creating
noting a significant point that I do write intentionally without any figurative wording, just simply talking about this to evoke a presence of an essence within you that is hindered,
by what type of **** everybody is wearing, where they are starring, who is ******* and adoring, and who's simply the **** because they don't fit in a deranged group, developed by
ego-centric level stingers, who but want either good for you, or it is the drive to profit from you everything. That is, words blah blah, can take stroll
on one day's role and make no complete sense, and all they did were live the sense of a tangled mind that fostered on what has been in some form, taught, over
what you can call a lively existence, considering how much traumatizing headaches this could cause, and resembled among a group of similar constituents with similar reasons
as to whatever the situation might be. I could point this out within one sentence, but it wouldn't hold any deeper understanding of this essence, so instead I decide with all
my reasoning and tremendous experience that even to some, even at this gritty expertisians who grease up the world to guess everything based on study and reasoning by other humans,
who believe all these ideas are shifters to the mind but always stem the relentless, functioning without any perspectives open to the idea that mold humans into one spatial and far better
so called community, which in all it's case has lost the essence to preserve the self without a ***** on the back. That ***** of course is the communal ****, that builds from a
trigger of words, then they teach the brain as if it is known how to be as a functioning unit. The amount doesn't matter, the amount that is thought brings hope, but the most
amount to the self is the function of you, like I feel I function amongst anyone because I have come to terms and realize what really important things I have learned from my life.
My life to some is gripping, only because it sounds unbelievable, but of that life I found the same driving forces that drive madness even today, and has been reaccuring for as
long as some form of expression has been. And in all humiliation of humanity, or as I consider it digression of being self around the bounds of comfortability, it has been
a grand experience to see many a people transgress from the point of my meeting them with a continuous contact to the point of now, and then, and future plausible. But then
and future plausible for me stand out as notions needless of evocations due to the fact that the self is a dwindling factor hung by a rope to swing the way the self first portrayed
to me, and then to the direction away from the first encountered mind. But in all, without senseless ignorance, I do understand these things are studied for a reason, for a reason
that is workable to be as they are for some variables do affect person's in many different way. That is why, the sense of one roof and too many aloof is but a big spoof. With
sensibility, how can forging something into your life help you to achieve greatness within self to portray it in a manner plausible. The only way is as a current flows, so do
the gulls.



where do you. . .come from. . .so many leagues unbeknownst among my dreams.
life is never what it seems. . .until i met your eyes.. . that built
my stongest implication, dire in desire to live a life inspired. . .
but then so is, to dream upon what tends on building motivation. . .
life is beautiful sensation. . .
from the first rainfall with you meeting outside spontaneous realm. . .
we fought the solemn wind to calm our cumbered spirits. . .taking flight,
fighting what might have been. . .semeless to even entertain. . .lost in
each others warmness. . .everything we built tended harmless.

now see how we have. . .related to each other's hearts. . .left the scrutinity
at obscurity prolonged on scale of mirror. . .where it has always belonged.
now it's just time darling
i promiss it wont be long until our roots bind the maximum strong.

from even across the plains, and mountain long trip stains. . .i feel
less pain. . .from what's the phrase non loose then gain, consorting time
absorbing each other's essence in rhyme.
the deepest of sensation of you. . .the meekest of me, makes me be the simple thing
that i've reconnected to . . .to realize, the sensation of you. . .from our first
encounter, i felt deep into your eyes. . .what agree's none behind with lies. . .
you evoked the deepest motion within my sphere of emotion not to betray myself within
this realm and dark frivolous potion. . .for my first set of emotion set on your tone behind
this potion. . .

i face you eye for an eye of every day until i die, but will ever will i die. . .not with you
never. . .darling angel, angel you are my expressive tone to call you so. . .nothing more
is the essense of you that you seem to implore, how busy life must be. . .we need feel free
to good ridance from this fee that life doesn't instill our good griefs beyond simple joys and beliefs. . .
for simply darling we are each other's heart beats, if it's simple smell of you
i will carry out my deeds in hell. . .beneath on hearth this earth, where all of us have been given
birth. . .but sent to spend what is driven by multipolluted cord, the time in blunt approach from
the thing that planted our roots. . .

how i feel you is simply too rich for some dirt to enrich you. . .i simply love and cherish
every bit of your essence, it has lifelong presence that even doing what they call
reminiscing, can't surpass living without missing what they have been reminiscing. . .
i cherish you beyond what little faith can teach about having bigger faith, when all my hopes
ride faithful slopes without elongated stops and rope bearing hopes. . .
my life i see to the extent to remorse only what some feel beyond scope of too openly. . .
but how can i retreat on what i can't stop to feel to protect you from, to their heads we are getting closely. . .
how in the scope of your first essence, can i give up to give way to ruin such pure essence. . .

i understand the world makes a feeling for such pure feeling is counted by blessings. . .
and in order for us to make it, that thought i feel senseless baking . . .constant roll of assorted
reasons for why we bleed to them treasons . . .for how can i express, how simple love doesn't
just digress, or something with time you invest. . .it's simply have been a joy of building
together a foundation for our nest. . .**** the rest. . .**** the pest. . .the world is the best
when sleepers are put to rest and the spark of commune are dwellers dwelling on these mischivers'
locked up chest. . .
to find out that darling. . .you simply are a joy to give me whole, that i'm not uninspired troll
reluctant to breath beside the one he placed his greed upon. . .or her, or it. . but all the essence
is closed and beat, by some known with ideals humanity can't consider too farfetched to bare to grit. . .
and sway to the essence that i hold in my glances. . .are as simple as these branded constructed norms
that most tend to manipulate and distort to one contorted form. . . .so all can bend into one socket for 365
degree view that most tend to agree. . .but never really see.

i know it's many there with this essense around the breeze of an aura, that simply are stranded too far apart by such horror.. .
to relent their essence with their prescence. . .to whom Barbarians find the essence is planted full on messes.
but how can we relate to such things darling. . .when the first glow of your essence showed me life full
of memories by the smile in your eyes, glowing beauty of any sort. . .i feel the world will someday . . .
take flight. . .in my way, but **** that. . .i'm to speak when my message is too simple, provoked only by the
thought, "protect the world its miser mother has been beaten". . .i can never relent, the message that is never
but to contradict what's life has not eaten. . .because of the times put to squares, living life, fostering a step back, into recluce. . .these biches wont even
say cause their too ****. . .to figure out that there's a worrior to stump them pleaded sheets out of wood. . .
i say this out for your sarcasm, elongated this song a bit to give you big ******. . .so when you repose, you
think nothing but what side are the pro's. . .and enter them into oblivion, grasping each by the billion, how
can i repose for i know, without one word it is and has been always come down to the special chosen million. . .

because my darling, i feel the miser that this essence in me you inspire, is up and target for no good. . .for
these pleaded fockers granted themselves unrelentless priveleges for centuries, changing diepers to giving
blood diamond marriages. . .riding on what they call prestine carriages. . .oh what,you don't recognize this
what the world has come to building from everybody's demise. . .feeding on high rise. . .splitting cots in the
rots, most alluded with plots and continued building upon the essence of you, keeping you stewed, brewing up a flu. . .
to this day when i met you. . .
will never cease your memory by only that it was circumstance. . .romance among thieves denying our chance to dance. . .
with one glance, their world just plopped a chance. . .for i know they know who im refering to, without a glance
i'm sure they feel my stance just to look **** eyed puking. . .**** blocking their world to rocking, while else where goes to foster under
this ugly monster. . .stooped on a porch ******* their air, without any underwear. . .haha must be due to how
much pull goes to their hair. . .how do i, they feel ****** diddlidy ****, what, is this person a human or a
restored frame of mind living. . .i can't be what's in my eyes to be believing, but i simply am retarted man. . .
a ******* rough psychological fighting bluff, to them i would. . .but trust me, how could i in my life, i
never could.. . .fall to false pretention, that life is a great invention, that my desire's are for simple
hires. . .for i know my life evolves around that which your first essence, darling, we built stronger everyday
to our future of what we call present. . .

life with you, i simply can't resent. . .but figure out what's best
to make what we don't need to make. . . because the essence uproots life's shrivel of what they call romances. . .
rooting upward from the seed we planted on the day people deside to bleed
all over the notion, that this emotion they conquered stems from shot of elixir handed down from the heavens by
some they call cupid fixer. . .relentless, they push through many dances. . .all so strained and constricted by many
glances, restricting their free essence to feel in whole their life is shot down by simple messes. . . .
but you, none taken, broken and mistaken. . .how can simple things be so. . .when you know my essence for you is
far greater then what one instance can remark for the whole, i feel simply. . .protect you from their hole and
bind you with my essence that strives in whole. . .even through tormenting lonely dances. . .when i saw the world an ugly form. . .
nowhere to want to run to, or feel
resentment.. . where's life going to go. . .if my essence in a whole feeds you. . .away to their
mysterious goal. . .i wouldn't have the patience to ***** their abnormal pretence, as if life is sweet with
such mysterious fowl. . .create little thought to create bigger picture, many aditions just create tensities
among those who bicker, loosing control each time only quicker. . .that's why it's never lesser to speak for the lesser
dresser, or the person they showed you, that looked like he ******* told you, but instead they made the mistake
to grow lower. . . cowering even bolder. . . what **** is the point of that. . .to say it none meeker as if its meant to outcast the bleeker
. . .i'm not that so. . .to scowl like fowl crackhead, loosing self reliance to gr
Mateuš Conrad May 2020
perhaps a hannibal lecter interlude...

  after all... pronouns... are they really: all that important...

the first the second the third wave
of secularism...
fine... fine... make religious artifacts
dunce...
               make iconoclasm...
make it sacrilege...

   islamic stessors on: no images...
         you'd think: high praises for grammar,
orthography and all that...
"orthography": without diacritical markers:
a technical term for something pretty
pedestrian: a spelling mistake...

pronouns... i much prefer prepositions
and conjunctions: the sharpnel of the whole affair of:
a sentence structure...

the liberal, atheist, secular cuddly toys
can have everything... except for the grammar...
since... i **** on {[( and }]) and whatever
bracket >            and < is invoked
to "reinvent a piece of paper"...

pronouns... pronouns...
      i am for: remembering that an aardvark is...
not... and is...
i like to bank a lot of nouns...
i truly do...

             if it can't be settled with the already
in place: crown pronouns...
e.g.: one should think so...
                as in i...
veer into: are we being... addressed?
  the royal we.... the crown of one...
hell... even schizophrenics have better
days than dealing with a pluralism...
the horde does: and the host...

trans-     meta-           cis-       ortho-
               para-                hell... is this a chemistry
lesson? with this prefixes?

the royal use of the pronoun...
because of the... visible entourage...
hence: is one to think so...
are we... being addressed?
   a very, a very very different mind-spatiality
to the inconvenient cork
or nail of the common, labouring:
plumber...

                i's dot and no dots further:
nonetheless does so...

trans-gender lessons in grammar...
i know an older lesson...
trans-******... buffalo bill lessons in pronouns...

it rubs the lotion on its skin...
   it rubs the lotion on its skin...
   or else it gets the hose again...
it rubs the lotion on its skin...
   yes precious: it gets the hose...
    it rubs the lotion on its skin
or else it gets the hose...
  it puts the lotion in the basket...
and it does
...
                         (greenskeepers... lotion)

                  we are living in very curious times...
which leaves alluded to...
supposed or otherwise suspect "schizoid-bilinguals"
looking for the chance of playing
poker and someone looking over our shoulder...

have all the religous trampling you can
muster... but grammar is the new religious
dogma... it's the new orthodoxy...

                        it's the old orthodoxy...
a totally wonky pancake of a buffalo bill trans-sexuality
becomes easier to understand than
all the trans-gender-                 -ism...
another -ism another -ology...
              
          **** in the church take a **** on the altar...
tell a ******* like marquis de sade did:
to desecrate a crucifix by reinventing it into
a *****... whatever...

but grammar? can't anything be sacred these...
days? royal pronouns: one should hope so...
are: we being addressed?
    
a grevious faux pas -
      looks something like this: hey presto!
why?
         the colon is a prefix to italics...
     i.e. looks something this: hey presto...
but given the bad choice of e.g. -
i.e. it's also a punctuation mark...

             point being: not like this...
              yes: like this...
              and yes... thus...
                       but....         :        and its
hardly a double emphasis...

    O the low hanging fruit... since:
there's nothing controversial to be said...
this is just the pretty much crass...

     i was sure there must have been a writing
to "compete" with the runes...
that st. cyril had to work with something...
before the romans... well... when the romans
never came...
but the southern slavs
moved into the territory of former jugol...

ⰏⰀⰃⰉⰀ / ⰏⰀⰃⰡ
what once was...
and became:
                        магия...

           well... so much for: "out of africa"....
concerned with the complexity of scribbles
                       and doodles...
so much for those chinese tattoos...
the base is above: the word
is the same...

मघ / मग     and that's just the consonants MG...
it's not magic: it's... magia...
or: "or" magja...

          seems like the greek Π is the roof...
     out of india: perhaps out of africa...
but when did people start writing?

     now for the vowels...
                                   मआघइअ:
म   (m)                
आ   (aa)                      अ
घ    (g)        alt.
इ     (i)
अ     (a)...

                   the H is a surd: a shared
detail of both english and sanskrit...
but i think... मघ / मग... the latter is better suited....
e.g. 'atch: well... there's also
that surd of a G and a K: knived a gnome heart
out... laughed: ah ha ha...
and...                     journalistic insomnia
couldn't care for better days...
or UV paranoia: "paranoia"...

ergo...

                                   मअगइअ:
म   (m)                
आ   (aa)                      अ
ग    (g)        alt.
इ     (i)
अ     (a)...                      

this is still not magic... linear! thank "god"...
    well... this pepper... this perpetuated
thrist... which doesn't leave one satiated...
never completed... just more and more...
disastrous... keep the ship afloat...
while i start to nibble on the anchor!
and take ol' 'aptain down with me like:
a mermaid!
Paraps XXIV

Messiah of Judah

It should be fulfilled as predisposed by Vernarth by always having the contemporary desire to melt the trumpets and then recast them, manifesting to take them to meet their most fervent retrospective reunited with his brother apostles and the omnipresent Messiah. The archangel Uriel sent him this plan that he had for him as an always fertile offering in the face of any possible threat of disobedience. Indissoluble and whole, they climb the Eurydice stowing the supplies for this long journey like a Messianic proclamation from the blade of an Aiónus propeller that has already had to open these waters together with the evangelist. The board and the anchor are lifted Procorus made encouraging signs to all, saying goodbye to them and then returning to the hermitage. The others fit into the waves of the Skalá roadstead, Raeder played with Petrobus on the deck laughing at all times when everything seemed seized and sad. Eurídice would go to the figurehead for a few days to take everyone and guide them, this guaranteed that they would always have good movement and navigate without having any details. Vernarth describes:"The apostle would settle on the deck near the bow while I organized the sails and powers of Uriel who would always be close by giving them zephyr winds from the Metelmi. Taking the route sailing from Patmos in the Aegean Sea through the northern Dodecanese Islands. San Juan when he was going off the west coast of Turkey deprecated and was remembering the port of Skalá. Patmos..., its "Apokalypsis Island", leaving behind the monastic and picturesque island with traditional white Oikos, azure, and crystalline waters with its vibrant subjective life. Where Saint Ioannis heard the voice of God and wrote the Apocalypse, as well as the three small cracks in the rock through which came the frequency that symbolized before him the Holy Trinity. They go through Rhodes, the largest island in the Dodecanese in Greece heralding Uriel of ancient ruins and the remains of their occupation when they were part of the Order of Saint John during the Crusades. The city of Rhodes has an Old Town with the medieval Knights' Street and the castle-like palace of the Grand Master. The palace was captured by the Ottomans and later occupied by the Italians. The Apostle could only remember the place of passage when he walked in ecclesiastical gear. Limassol, Cyprus; with too many Greek Cypriot waters was the current where they arrived..., to Limassol. They come here one day. They descend from the Eurydice and head for the Paphos road. To the archaeological treasure keeping its neighboring memories of the Greco-Roman theater built in the second century before Christ. They go happily rolling through vestiges of time, all thanks to the timeless Parapsychological Regressive Memory that Vernarth was narrating as always. Crossing the private Roman villa is the House of Eustolios by Othónes or Paraps screens, converted into a public recreation center during the early Christian period. It consisted of a complex of baths and rooms with floors covered by beautiful mosaics from the 5th century AD Other important buildings are the Paleochristian Basilica dating from the 5th century, a Nymphaeum dedicated to the water nymphs, and the Stadium from the 2nd century AD finds something removed a kilometer from the site. They transfigure the cord of the mosaics of the House of Achilles and the House of the Gladiators, in a perfect state of conservation that with their beautiful colors covered the floors with the same carefree footsteps of each one belonging to the bright tones in their great parallel work of the god Aiónius that was in parallel collating. Here San Juan kneels and prays profusely for the souls of Christians who have fallen to the stigma that will entail the performance of the first miracle of this pilgrimage through Limassol. They were all silent. They leave Cyprus and go to the port of Limassol to board the ship. Being very pleasantly surprised by the unexpected visit of Etréstles who was upon the ship. Everyone jumps with happiness! seeing that the champion of the Koumeterium of Messolonghi, brother of Vernarth, was added to them. Vernarth: Khaire!! Happy is my soul, which flows like a psalm of blood, Carrying your image through the flowers of Limassol! They all hug him and get ready to weigh anchor!

Miracle I  Limassol

"On this vertebral nature in this pilgrimage of uprooting the Apostle, the first miracle will happen before the eyes of all. The land darkened analogously to the landscape, the sea shone like a mirror showing them the feet of the Messiah floating in the Sea. their ***** the heat produced by this surprise stampede. The apostle embraces them all and asks them to approach the anchor line to lift it on the seabed where Creation rests. The Apostle approaches with small bony hands snatching the swivel links that are located near the mooring lever point. He presses with his hand the rope of the Triaconter invading with his thumbnail the netted vine that forms from his line. He begins to pull it several times..., every ten meters he looked at the sky and noticed that some majestic abnormal overtones shone. He is still blind to the eyes of everyone else moving in the ship as if they were on the high seas under the ultimatum of a great storm. Saint John looks at himself in the model mirror of the water, he saw how he pulls his body just like in Galilee when his Master did it, he saw how everyone laughed and was delighted to stop time to laugh together with him inaugurating a thousand years of psalmody. There was no more than five meters left to remove the anchor from the anchorage and he feels that it was excessively heavy. He asked Vernarth and Etréstles for help to get her out of the wet mass, they help him and pull the three unanimously to the rhythm of their revealed eagerness until from the ramp of the overboard they manage to see a large golden roundel of about seventy centimeters in diameter, of solid gold that glittered blinding whoever dared to look at it without Faith making it very difficult for everyone to participate in this great festivity of a miracle. It was a solid gold medallion bearing the stigma of Mariah mother of the Messiah, supplanting all ship anchors so that the ship would represent the base of devotion at sea as a sign of closeness to the Messiah by pulling faith forward. one..., so that in a period longer than that which needs to be released back into the sea as a gold-bearing weight, rather as a refuge to save us in the perfect mathematics of collecting it, what is night and obscurantism that succumbs more than the self-personalization of duties when presiding over human desires, transfiguring them in the diaphanous dawn as time and space assigned to the numeral in its perfect science of finding oneself with the medallion, which has always been in sublime crushing cognition and..., continuing to exist without the need to pull the anchor again..., but rather to pull the gold medallion for seven consecutive days that it would take them to reach Jaffa after releasing the moorings in Limassol. Just as everyone was stupefied, falling all the not being able to see more, or perhaps not having more to say about the trick that could be conjugated with the space where the fleeting beams of light emitted by the auric sphere intruded, as in the house of Affliction of Betania, attracting everyone with great love to feel anointed by the aroma of their heads. The apostle understood that the path of the wise senility of the books of wisdom and Saint Luke was approaching them, to impregnate in everything created well granted to spread it from the matrix that interprets and faithfully delegates it in the application of his work. Vernarth describes: "Jesus calms the storm..." When Jesus entered the boat, his disciples followed him. And suddenly a great storm arose on the sea so that vast flat waves in that rush covered the boat; Jesus was asleep. And coming to him, they woke him up saying: Lord, save us, we perish! And He said to them: Why are you frightened men of little faith? Then he got up, rebuked the winds and the sea, and a great calm ensued. And the men marveled, saying: Who is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him? - Mateo 8 - exhibiting this passage in the Othón showing that event the god Aiónus when he rubbed the Ibico I, and the one that would come from Leonardo Da Vinci. "Leonardo Da Vinci "Last Supper Passage" Then you will have your brother Aaron come to you from among the children of Israel and with him his sons to serve me as priests: Aaron, with Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar, sons of Aaron. And you shall make holy garments for your brother Aaron for glory and beauty. And you shall speak to all the skilled craftsmen, whom I have filled with the spirit of wisdom, and they shall make Aaron's garments to consecrate him, so that he may serve me as a priest. These are the garments that they will make: a breastplate, an ephod, a robe, a checkered tunic, a tiara, and a belt; and they shall make sacred garments for your brother Aaron and for his sons, so that they may serve me as priests. And they will take for it the gold and the blue, purple and scarlet cloth, and the fine linen. They will also make the ephod of gold, blue, purple, and scarlet cloth, and fine twisted linen, the work of a skillful craftsman. It will have two shoulder pads that meet at its two ends so that they can be joined. And the skillfully woven belt that will be on it will be of the same work of the same material: of gold, blue, purple, and scarlet cloth, and of fine twisted linen. And you shall take two onyx stones, and engrave on them the names of the children of Israel: six of the names on one stone, and the remaining six names on the other stone according to the order of their birth." "In the biblical symbology of the Apocalypse, the number seven is recurrent and therefore there were seven apostles chosen by Leonardo da Vinci. Saint John the Apostle says: The Last Supper tells me the greatest love of having it close as if I were in my house celebrating, gathered to stamp the facts in which I raised the cut of my bread towards the millennium of the future, to classify all the dates that It will commemorate us united in the sustenance that will feed the Earth forever and ever. In the stigma of this medallion, I will revive all my memories before arriving in Jaffa, before even walking anymore in the solitude that haunts us forever and ever, still not understanding by any measure, the crumbling and disordered existence that passes beyond death that is reborn in our non-existent Faith. They all sail in silence, all asleep on the deck around the medallion that did not stop shining and bathing them all in its splendid theology. All lie asleep and hypnotized with pleasure, the ship moved alone, at the will of the sacred wind that carried them in seventh silence, so that the snorting shoes of the night do not wake them up even a seventh sleep next to the solid gold medallion. Eurydice was still in the happy mask, now to lead everyone in peace, towards the meeting of the apostle's ancestors, towards the dawn of the secular dawn in Jaffa on its seventh sleepless night..., when they arrive at the seventh turn of the clouds in their fading weather with Aiónous and Zeus, being mere spectators of the tormented bullet of riddled lost. All lie asleep and hypnotized with pleasure, the ship moved alone, at the will of the sacred wind that carried them in seventh silence, so that the snorting shoes of the night do not wake them up even a seventh sleep next to the solid gold medallion. Eurydice was still in the happy mask, now to lead everyone in peace, towards the meeting of the apostle's ancestors, towards the dawn of the secular dawn in Jaffa on its seventh sleepless night..., when they arrive at the seventh turn of the clouds in their fading weather with Aiónous and Zeus, being mere spectators of the tormented bullet of riddled lost. All lie asleep and hypnotized with pleasure, the ship moved alone, at the will of the sacred wind that carried them in seventh silence, so that the snorting shoes of the night do not wake them up even a seventh sleep next to the solid gold medallion. Eurydice was still in the happy mask, now to lead everyone in peace, towards the meeting of the apostle's ancestors, towards the dawn of the secular dawn in Jaffa on its seventh sleepless night..., when they arrive at the seventh turn of the clouds in their fading weather with Aiónous and Zeus, being mere spectators of the tormented bullet of riddled lost.

Jaffa  Ioannis regression

Describes Vernarth: On a warm morning, archaeological evidence showed that Jaffa was inhabited around 7,500 BC. C. The natural port of Jaffa has been used since the early Bronze Age, and all of its early inhabitants were probably Canaanites. The city of Jaffa is mentioned in a 1470 BC preterite writing from ancient Egypt glorifying the conquest by Pharaoh Tuthmosis III who hid armed warriors in large baskets and then presented them to the city's Canaanite governor. Jaffa is mentioned in the Torah as one of the Hebrew cities of the Tribe of Dan and hence the term Gush Dan is used today for the coastal plain. Many descendants of Dan lived along the coast and made a living as sailors and sailors. In "Deborah's Song" the fortune-teller asks:" Why do you want Dan to stop me on ships? After the Canaanite and Philistine *******, King David and his son Solomon conquered Jaffa using its port to take the cedars used for the construction of the First Temple from the city of Tire (2nd Chronicles 2:16). The city remained in the hands of the Jews even after the division of the Kingdom of Israel. In 701 BC C., in the days of King Hezekiah and Assyrian King Sennacherib who invaded the Jaffa region. It is also the place where the prophet Jonah sailed for Tarshish (Book of Jonah 1:3) and was the port of entry for the cedars of Lebanon for the Second Temple in Jerusalem (Book of Ezra 3:7). After a period of Babylonian occupation, defeated King Porus at the Battle of Hydaspes (326 to.C.) In the New Testament it is related how Peter resurrected the believer Tabitha (Dorcas, in Greek, gazelle) in Joppa (Jaffa) and later, how near this city he has a vision in which Yahveh told him that he should not distinguish between Jews and Gentiles while ordering the removal of ritual food (kosher) restrictions followed by Jews. While Vernarth was describing all this history, everyone was paying attention, the beautiful situation of entering Jaffa in this thousand-year-old port was imminent so that they could touch the Holy Land with their feet with all the avatars that awaited them. Vernarth had this great preamble and gift to return from the Exile of Saint John due to his exile of him dictated by Emperor Domitian. They all came praying in the ship Eurydice left the figurehead to descend and move with them to Jerusalem. To go through the Lithostrotos, Gethsemane, the Via Dolorosa, Gólgotha, the Holy Sepulcher and many sacred places where the apostle had a correlation with the Messiah..., bordering were still in the hosts of all those who loved him, especially in the locality where they met with the apostles after the crucifixion in the Apostolic Sees where they are still seen to be together from the first day forever and ever. Some put foot in its pages to have been founded by one or more of Jesus' Apostles who are said to have dispersed from Jerusalem sometime after Jesus' crucifixion (c. 26-36), probably after the Great Commission. The early Christians met in small private houses known as paleo-Christian house churches, but the entire Christian community of a city could also attribute it to the fact that it would be called and ignored as an act of sedition to avoid misunderstandings with its anti-Romanesque legacy. In Limassol it dawned one day when another day was setting in Lod..., here they all got ready to have dinner together in a wheel of fire in the tents moved by a breath that reaches and bounces from their sallow tents to the walls of Jerusalem sensing that they came and went already with the Saint accompanying them. From the last dizziness of the sun, Uriel appeared to them telling them...: "On the bottom where a ship is born in some ruins and catacombs, the sentinels of the Limassol Medallion will reside, it will be jealously guarded by my peers Christian Gladiators of Kourion who are preserved in my fragmentary and honorific decrees, as well as in epitaphs. In neo diplomacy supporting Alexander the Great and Bucephalus protecting the Medallion. In the west of the river Lycus, the sentinels will go to the bottom of the sea every day to watch over it so that from here they shelter the Medallion with their tricks, which in such a way will be adopted for meritorious scriptural phraseology in the Walls of Jerusalem where other walls will follow it... Vernarth describes: "The Great Commission; Matthew 28:19-20 contains what is known as "the Great Commission": "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit; teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you, and behold, I am with you every day until the end of the world." Jesus gave this commandment to the apostles shortly before he ascended to Heaven and essentially describes what Jesus expected the apostles and those who followed them to do in His absence. It is delightful to see that in the original Greek the only specific command in Matthew 28:19-20 is to "make disciples". The Great Commission commands us to make disciples as we move through the world and as we go about our daily business. How are we to make disciples? Baptizing them and teaching them everything that Jesus commanded. "Make disciples" is the mandate of the Great Commission. "As you go," "baptize," and "teach" are means by which we fulfill the mandate to "make disciples." Many understand Acts 1:8 as also part of the Great Commission, "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." The Great Commission is enabled by the power of the Holy Spirit. We are to be Christ's witnesses fulfilling the Great Commission in our cities (Jerusalem) our states and countries (Judea and Samaria) and anywhere else God sends us (to the ends of the earth). The great commission it is the instruction of the resurrected Jesus Christ to his venerable apostles commissioning them to propagate his teachings to all the nations of the world. The most famous version of the Great Commission is Matthew 28: 18-20 where on a mountain in Galilee Jesus commands his followers to baptize all nations in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Even more than the Great Commission of the twelve apostles that together with that of Matthew and Mark as a lofty counterpoint are dividing twin souls among all to take the electro cathode of the god Azofar de Vernarth in the Parousia (In the second coming of Christ). Together with them, the electromagnetic Fides Pronus "Benevolent Faith" ruled by God ruling in the electro anode flow, giving ample way to the Great Universal Commission. The Apostle Saint John reinterprets it: "The Great Commission is Matthew 28:18-20, and later synoptic gospels, Luke also presents Jesus sending disciples during his ministry sending them to all nations and giving them power over demons including the Seventy disciples. The scattering of the Apostles in the traditional ending of Mark is believed to be a second-century summary based on Matthew and Luke." Everyone heard very astonished words so fluted without being able to go out and harmonize the ears of those who were there..., and there was no room for doubts or questions! Everyone thought to travel all the fields of the world in caravans of free ungulates so many times through the Holy Land, thus thinking of changing history for the flat legs of camelids, changing the dynamic quantum geography thus making them participate and go on a being from which we are divided mounted. In exile it would be fulfilled, Twelve camels came and invited them to get on and rest on their backs. Every hundred kilometers the deepest questions were answered by the camelids Saying...: Camelids say: "I carried San Juan on my ciliated membranous backs and Mateo too..., they never knew that I knew the end of the story..., that the Great Commission It would never end because all of us are witnesses and we continue wandering through the desert hoping to see the Master lighting our starry path of gifts on sacred nights to serve him again, Until the End of the Parousia...

Second Miracle  Holy sepulcher

When migrating the Wailing Wall on a Vigil Friday, the Apostle led some camels with his hands sheltered in reverberating Psalmody. The little animals appeared with him in this basilica, also hand in hand with Vernarth, Etréstles, and the others remained waiting at the threshold of the Anastasis. The ungulates were already without the blindfold on their eyes after having crossed the Door of Mercy or Golden Gate. The atmosphere was hermetic and charged as if it were pouring rain and the pilgrims were oppressed to take refuge in the heat of the candles on sacred ground. A reverberating solemn psalmody begins to permeate the unruly walls recalling the chants in this place similar to Golgotha ​​that reminded Saint John of having traveled it with the Messiah. Prince Uriel with super senses was out of tune with the Vexilla Regis, by the time the apostle had crossed the limen of this holy offertory in such a way that the harmonics were now in tune vibrating in a single nearby wave..., towards the demarcation that concentrates the line to the crypt of the Messiah.Etréstles was accompanied by Eurydice on his side, visibly overexcited, from the height of the ship a light falls on Etréstles's shoulder with an itching mass of flower of authentic flower of the Pampano Diadem of the vine leaf in Nazareth. On a Friday that dressed in Sunday gala that entered with bouquets in their palms, in volumes larger than their size, dragging them across the sacred floor of the basilica, all naked of ego and anxiety, submerged in a reigning and mournful regret of the predestined demagoguery of the faithfulness of not being channeled together with the souls of purgatory that from today refloat with the visit of the Saint, remaining in seen and not perceived multiplied more than any day without having been more close to the Messiah, although the days were only swampy darkness from the flesh of Acheron in this river of pain forking from the said Acheron unleashed in the deplored underworld, like an unhealthy marsh within a desolate landscape with downcast angels ruling in the little cloud of the splinter of thick Incense, where the ferryman Charon would take the souls of recently deceased expurgated to the repugnant quagmire. Sovereign she... Virga..., would illuminate her interior with her brain-cerebellum adonis below the Madonna before reviving him again in the submissive and servile eternal gaze clause. Etréstles succumbs in genuflection three times before confirming the tertiary one that would make him uncover his knees before the long altar, here his voice is inhibited, fading from the interior like a parchment burning from the glottis to the runaway esophagus. The three hold hands with Vernarth and the Apostle..., remaining so until they enter the tomb. They encounter flattering fuss in the stone where he was anointed before being entombed, and the Cistern where he was anointed, after which his cross was found several centuries later secondarily sheltered in various Chapels whose garden is close to the skull of the rock and the emaciated Golgotha ​​mound. Very close to the Herodian wall of the city of Jerusalem and even connected to it by a road, but outside the walls since Jewish regulations prohibited intramural burials except in the case of regents. then his cross was found several centuries later, secondarily housed in various Chapels whose garden is close to the skull of the rock and the bare Golgotha ​​mound. Very close to the Herodian wall of the city of Jerusalem and even connected to it by a road, but outside the walls since Jewish regulations prohibited intramural burials except in the case of regents. then his cross was found several centuries later, secondarily housed in various Chapels whose garden is close to the skull of the rock and the bare Golgotha ​​mound. Very close to the Herodian wall of the city of Jerusalem and even connected to it by a road, but outside the walls since Jewish regulations prohibited intramural burials except in the case of regents.Your quarry and garden entity in The Calvary skull, as the Gospels testify, must be found on the outskirts of the city in an area dedicated to sepulchers. From a vast quarry for the extraction of Malaki stone located just outside the walls, and which was used from the 8th to the 1st century BC to build the buildings of the citizens. When the quarry was abandoned, this area was used for small orchards and cultivable gardens on its rocky walls along the hill, and a series of family tombs were made. Golgotha ​​itself, the "mount" on which the crosses were nailed, had to appear as the top of a higher rock separated from the hill, a suitable place for the newest law of demonstrative execution of capital punishment. Since Herod Agrippa in 41-42 AD extended the circuit of the wall of Jerusalem to the northwest, Golgotha ​​began to form part of the city, and from an isolated place over time, it became an integral part and center of the city, again Aiónius seconded this assertion before protecting the Vernarth words.   Etréstles with his Hellenic heart of Messolonghi approaches his leisurely aura below the garden, here he suppresses his icy feet towards his head of Greek innocence in flat sustained prayer, ends and gets up without being able to turn around to see him again in this garden of stones abandoned, he retires, leaving only Vernarth and the Apostle. He runs off for incredible distances, retreating miles from there to an adjoining desert area. here he suppresses his icy feet towards his head of Greek innocence in flat sustained prayer, finishes, and gets up without being able to turn around to see him again in this garden of abandoned stones, he retires leaving only Vernarth and the Apostle. He runs off for incredible distances, retreating miles from there to an adjoining desert area. here he suppresses his icy feet towards his head of Greek innocence in flat sustained prayer, finishes, and gets up without being able to turn around to see him again in this garden of abandoned stones, he retires leaving only Vernarth and the Apostle. He runs off for incredible distances, retreating miles from there to an adjoining desert area. Midbar Yehuda..., north of Jerusalem to Tiqwa, where he stays for two days before returning to Jerusalem. Being here in the middle of the desert he realizes that he had lost from one of her saddlebags a sacred image that had accompanied him since time immemorial, it had been given to him by his wife Drestnia in Koumeterium Messolonghi after her awakening. He searches for her for two days following the same path that he took from the basilica, not being able to find her, until he addresses the archangel Uriel, answering him himself. Uriel exclaims: ...On your back the offertory, a few steps in front of you the Apostle, beyond the crowd looking at you. The souls in purgatory will ask you for help, they will do it for you. You will have to give them their demands in freedom from their purges. The Messiah in miserere from the roof will come down to love on the esplanade..., on your conscience with rays and lightning he will caress your face with his host, and those who do not enter his consecration will take them to pick them up from his own hands in your lost image escorted by despondent angels whimpering and embracing you...! Etréstles, goes terrified from his Anastasis and enters the palm of the last acid words of martyrdom in prosody of the cross hammering and unrolling before his eyes in a long trail of a woven shroud, presenting him with the recolored image to be rescued by his soul from throbbing thunder with numb hands and bolt of bushy and inappropriate displays of disbelief. It would be a great miracle not to lose light in the superior lights that bring the Sun closer to your hands. In this way, a holy miracle would be fulfilled, like the ramp of the silence of the celestial karmic boomerang.

Silence  Painful way

Describes Vernarth in parapsychological regression: Silence crashed over them in such a way that it massacred them from "oblivion - oblivion" from the Limassol to Jaffa stretch. Everyone believed that they had traveled on the Eurydice, but not so. A ship that came from the Lepanto shipyard supplanted them to protect the Gold medallion anchored in the roadstead protected by the Christian Gladiators of Kourion in Lod. Everyone was calmer when they made sure that a great layer of silence overwhelmed them, forgetting as a foretaste of continuing along the Via Dolorosa. The dawn tied him to the Silent Awakening near Jerusalem on a gray and silent day. Vernarth gets up, first of all, and prepares them unleavened breakfast, honey, and goat's milk.About 3700 million years ago the first living beings appeared on Earth, they were small unicellular microorganisms not very different from current bacteria. Such cells are classified among prokaryotes because they lack a nucleus (karyon in Greek), a specialized compartment where the genetic machinery is stored. The prokaryotes achieved complete success in their development and multiplication, thanks to their remarkable capacity for evolution and adaptation, giving rise to a wide diversity of species and invading as many habitats as the planet could offer them. The biosphere would be full of prokaryotes if there had not been the extraordinary advance from which a cell belonging to a very different type arose: eukaryote, that is; It has a genuine core. In this evolutionary cellular space, they were invaded by a Vertical Silence that would have to spread throughout the troposphere and the consequences of this event marked the beginning of a new numeral linear lapse, until the consequences of this event marked the beginning of a new era. Nowadays, multicellular organisms are made up of eukaryotic cells, which are much more complex than prokaryotes. If eukaryotic cells had not appeared, the extraordinary variety, so rich in ranges, of animal and plant life on our planet would not exist now; nor would man have made an appearance to enjoy such diversity and extract its secrets. Bi similar eukaryotic cellsringed in metamorphic geological strata, pressing the atmosphere, the air and the earth, compressing the geological layers and gaseous atmospheres thatthey did not exist as a consequence of these intense pressure changes by order of the Higher Universal consciousness with overflowing temperatures and multi-chemical environments; dispersing the changes that are associated with the forces that fold on the shore of what is current Greece. Said layer faults scattered eukaryotic cells enveloped in "Silent Libertarian Material", injecting magma creating creative prominences on the attached rocks, becoming exhausted, perhaps only to be a cellular polytheism perhaps derived from multicellular cellular evolution..., turning into a sexed fusion of a great regeneration of Lithophagas species in the region..., perhaps in Colophon where Homer was infected. Well, this presumption would have to create a syncretic elaboration with that of Aristotle and Plato as eukaryotic cells, to start from this Lithophaga flower, which is rooted beneath its roots in this bivalve mollusk unleashing proto seeds of prehistoric poetic inspiration, in super souls synchronously starting each one in this mollusk plant that is thus regreened and personified, originating epic poetics in what prehistoric and the human phenotype. This hypersensitive cellular mega-complex is possible with the respect that I deserve to cite it, the innate and spontaneous hyper ethnobotany and hyper sapiens mollusks that were conceived for millions of years delegating their sublime hypostases in creation. I quote here The word Poetry from the Greek ( Poiein: "Do or Create"). From this vertical revolution, the Silence of the Via Dolorosa intrinsic to the same ontological, geological, Theological, and evolutionary concepts will emanate. Scientific and Poetic-Sacred, linked to the creation from "Nothing" to an "Everything". Everything is revealed before our backs, everything is offered before our eyes, everything comes from the soft creative wrath of lightning, everything is consecrated to silence..., but nothingness moves what the whole forgot centrifuged by phenomena of atomicity of greater forces of the Silence of the Messiah, praying in constant practice the generation in front of our theoretical faces in front of our Everything and the Nothingness of an empty supply. "Silence Waits for Time... to see,... I commend my Being to time" founds the greatest silence ever felt only heard more than an ultrasound of waves that articulate one over another in algorithmic chanting that emanate from "Mariah's Silence to her son" also to Homer, Aristotle, and Plato attached to the Lithophaga releasing Eukaryotes. When Aristotle and Plato uprooted the Lithophaga as axiomatic leaders, they revealed the Silence of Creation and poetic anathemas, alluding to their true ancestors who slipped down their bandullos like an elongated moraine sweeping their navel Samskaras such traces of their own personalities leading wisdom with an origin common prehistoric cell.

Ita *** Dolore: Saint John the Apostle stood up in silence with profuse deafness even in spirit..., all the others were equally traumatized from feeling the stones engraved with fear and pain "Ita *** Dolore". They didn't see in colors everything was gray and shades of white, black between cells..., like being inside the suffering cell lost of all consciousness. Everyone confuses about their clothes, their outfits, nobody knew who each one was, only Vernarth and San Juan knew. Raeder and Petrobus, Alikanto, and Eurídice only wandered sleepwalking along the rocky road in the cobbled streets flanked by works erected from sobbing Malaki material, from stones very similar to those that Jesus would have seen following this pristine route. The Stations of the Cross were marked by plaques, vaulted chapels, and signs along the way of lacerating and flagellant stops of more than forty degrees of burning in each feverish step and enclosed vaulting.

Ellipse Messiahas a child: "Mother...; when I went up the stairs..., I stopped at the fourteenth step..., in perfect mathematics opening the sky..., like a sacrosanct aromatic book; Well, I thought you would believe me dressed there! Mother when I went down the fourteen steps and put my last foot before you..., I could see how I sang in the thirty-three on a rainy Friday afternoon, clinging to you..., accompanying me along the stairs that you did not know..."

1st Station of the Cross in Silence

Ita *** Dolore, Jesus was tried and sentenced to death in the Praetorium of Pontius Pilate, he will bring silence in each interval that did not oppose resistance from the flagellant whips."Mother...; when I went up the stairs..."The apostle closes his eyes, Vernarth takes him in his arms.

2nd Station of the Cross

The second station marks where Jesus took up his cross and recalls his doom. Romans beat Jesus and the Chapel of Judgment which commemorates the site where Jesus was sentenced. Here he feels like a child... "Mother...; when I went down the stairs...?"


3rd Station of the Cross

The third station is where Jesus first fell under the weight of his cross. This station is not far from the Ecce **** (Behold the Man), Saint John remembers the Last Supper in anticipation, sitting next to him... he got up from dinner, took off his mantle, and took a towel, he girded himself.... "Mother...; when I went up the stairs..."

4th Station of the Cross

The fourth station marks where Mary saw her son pass by. The 19th-century Armenian Church of Our Lady marks this station. Deaf Vernarth manages to hear voices from heaven saying: "Mother...; when I came down from the ladder...?"

5th Station of the Cross

At the fifth station, the Roman soldiers instructed Simon of Cyrene to help Jesus carry his cross (Luke 23). ..., "Mother I stopped at the fifth step and I never hesitated to wash your feet"

6th Station of the Cross

The sixth station marks where Veronica wiped Jesus' face with her veil. It is believed that the image of the face of Jesus was imprinted on the cloth."Mother...; when I went down the stairs you covered my sweaty face..."

7th Station of the Cross

At the seventh station, Jesus faltered under the weight of the cross for the second time. "Mother...; when I climbed the ladder..., I saw the lost mountain..."

8th Station of the Cross

The eighth station is where the "daughters of Jerusalem weep for Jesus" (Luke 23, 27). Jesus stopped here to comfort the women, telling them not to weep for him, but for themselves and their children.."Mother...; when I went down the stairs you were not there, you were coming for me..."

9th Station of the Cross

At the ninth station, Jesus faltered a third time before his final ascent to Golgotha. "Mother...; When I went up the stairs to find you, you were in front of me..."

9th-14th Stations of the Cross

The Stone of Anointing is believed to have been where Jesus was placed after being taken from the cross. Here he would have been prepared for burial. The Bible tells us that Jesus' body was wrapped in linen and anointed with oils and spices in accordance with Jewish funeral rites. "Mother...; when I went down the stairs you covered me from the cold and wrapped me with your passion..."


The 14th Station of the Cross – The Tomb of Christ

Here Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth were still deaf, but with slight symptoms of recovery of their hearing. They saw in front of them how deaf angels came to uncover their auditory channels, being of their intuition proclaiming courage to accompany them with their teacher to the aedicule towards the crypt itself granted by José de Arimathea. The Chapel of the Angel contains a small piece of the rock that closed the burial cave of Christ, the chapel that leads to the tomb itself. It was here that Jesus was buried and rose three days after his death. "This small rectangular structure of the Edicule marks the end of the Via Dolorosa and the Deafness of everyone and the Whole World"

Saint Ioannis Song of the Messiah, Vernarth describes by the voice of Saint John the Apostle: "Since the beginning of Samaria I had my father Zebedeo in my manifestations..., my mother Salomé and brother apostle Santiago together with me in my declared voice. My father as a fisherman if he saw us grow and left us in the boat after the Messiah called us believing he would not see us grow anymore! My father lived in Bethsaida and developed his commercial activity on the Sea of ​​Galilee or Tiberias, together with us between Capernaum and Bethsaida I walked escorted by the voices of the silence of freedom; Said peace prostrated me to monuments that oscillate on the invisible wings of the legions asking me to join their hand in hand for hours..., and in great circles, since I got on the boat flooded with Faith with the Master. This is what I call seeing the homonymous village located on the western shore of this sea become its monument of silence and the heritage of the House of Fishing in Bethsaida. I always knew that my father had a parental agreement with the Master, being my uncle since my mother Salomé has been identified as the sister of our Mariah.From Capernaum, since I walked and grew up among nets, boats and from where six others accompanied me as my brothers and fellow apostles. Thus, natives, we give our seals and predilections to the Lord for navigating us in the divine water of the Jordan, here I was a fisherman and brother of the fish that also spoke for me..., for the proverbs that identify my closeness with the family lineage of Capernaum. Jesus from the depths of his being with his throat upwards called Santiago and me "sons of thunder" for our impetuous character that was revealed in some events reported in others. The two of us together with San Pedro..., constituted the most intimate core of the master. I was favored by those who reserved my presence with the ****** Mariah where she was trembling in her clothes at the foot of the cross when our Father Master Messiah died, drawing us closer to all of us from that day further than we thought could protest. In this epithet now is where I point to the one who invited me to his boat in Skalá, Patmos; "Vernarth", also a son of the Lord, invited me to return to my original land. Always from Patmos He kept sending me, I received messages at the crossroads of the winds and through anagrams on the tail of the fish..., in their mouths in Aramaic, so that they could be brought from where my roots fill your abundant fish farming..., a common rhizome that in his parables they hear him, that from his brambles the crickets boil in his golden presence, golden passion, and golden agony even me looking at him with my eternal eyes with my painful eyes of apocalypse crying..., even seeing how I went with him to Golgotha ​​in his arms, imitating him in his courage more than in himself and in all those who did not see him leave." "Far away in my exile sentenced by Domitian, I wrote the Gospel and their epistles in Ephesus and the Apocalypse on Patmos, in the Aegean. Both in our Gospel and in the prophetic visions of the Apocalypse, I was invaded by the high-altitude doctrinal and symbolic language of the passages next to the Master. I was the eagle evangelizing, flying in terror to Patmos, and I know that your eagle will take me to Ephesus to sleep in the gospel of the Lord eternally." "I was never a child, I was always who I am if I was a child..., only my parents managed to see it because I was already sitting as if I were in the same Transfiguration, Pentecost, with the daughter of Jairus, in Lake Tiberias and in his miraculous departure in Gethsemane." "I was always who I am..., I never felt that my bones grew in proportion to the distances that would allow me to walk faster than an Eagle, but not so in my parents who did not see my leafy feet of plumage, Next Reign of Jesus of Nazareth in a kind of apology I will be for him again as a child recognizing him even as present and future Father" here he was housed in these Othóns or quantum Azofar screens, guaranteeing him to be federated to his inheritance for the centuries to come. Christian Itheoi genus. Vernarth looks at him and hugs him for a long time, everyone else does the same. They leave Capernaum to start their way through innumerable routes to Nazareth, trying to find a new path but a Golden Eagle or Gerakis appeared to them telling them where to go next...it would probably be where the Master went through the dedications on an INRI wood...where thousands of eagles would pose his claws containing his bleeding..., more than a "Meta-language reigning in all Believers of attachment sustained in his shroud" as I did, perhaps singing in conspicuous languages ​​that would meet him more than an expert, more than a language close to the zeal that covered us, dismantling itself from the friendly path that sustained us, shortening its objective. Our mission is to meet the ancestors of Maryah and her Sigil, which floods with essences towards her son,



Paraps XXV

Messiah of Judah II part

Miracle III - Nazareth

Parapsychological regression, Vernarth describes by the voice of the Apostle Saint John: "They all came from Capernaum with the embedded shutters of INRI in their hands, Alikantus in their hooves and Petrobus in their webbed golden fingers. Everyone walked unevenly perhaps because from the Higher Consciousness the Abba had leaned towards the south center towards the west tilting the earth twelve degrees which made him change course to Nazareth. The miraculous thing was to see how the animals Petrobus and Alikanto felt them and saw euphonies coming out of their mouths in octaves multiplied by eight; that is to say, sixty-four inverted notes, averaging the notes that arrived the other way around from being heard in their retro melody, perhaps diverting them to a hillside in Canaan. After such a miraculous phenomenon, the golden eagles perched on the heads of the twelve ungulates, diverting them to Nazareth and guiding them to an ancient stone where the inscriptions in Hebrew-Aramaic "Stem-Branch" can be seen. They were sweating on their Gigas camels like Nazarene princes reigning in consolation by forking like the ground even beyond the two-dimensional concept of Nazareth, either a stem proclaiming the ominous prophetic of the Messiah or proclaiming the Renewal in sacred circulation to have a 360 ° perspective, for the ancient worldview being housed as a perfect clone on the geography of Nazareth in 14.14 square km, based on the southern mountains of Lower Galilee, 10 km north of Mount Tabor and 23 km west of the Sea of ​​Galilee. Miracles must be outlined between the extreme points of each cross..., the stature of the image between foot and head, the cosmogony of the link between Nazareth, Capernaum, and vice versa, mysteries of the silence of those who only see in light and dark of Marian repentance, would be now in front of everyone with the Credulity Gene. The Giga Camels carried them tenaciously with their wise feet from Capernaum. Here is the Miracle; They were at the fourteenth station in Jerusalem, which St. Ioannis later explained in his childhood memoirs with his family in Bethsaida. It was then from here that in some bend of its inspiration that the valleys would turn towards another geological family to present it at the table with renewed olive oils together with its parents. Where they would leave directly guided by the royal eagles towards the stone of Nazareth. Describes Vernarth in the voice of Saint John: "The Archangel Uriel dictates him; those who preach alone in the streets or corners preach the rejection of those who do not count how many times they were approved or challenged, and at least the times that more than any extreme had to be heard beyond the most distant hiding places in which they did not they will be able to know to be recognized" Saint John continues: "On this tacit diameter in the narrow part of the bergamot that is towards the south and opens through a narrow and sinuous throat towards the plain of Esdraelón. It would be pointed out here as "the top of the mountain" from where they wanted to throw Jesus off the cliff. But the traditional place does not have a true ravine, as a story would seem to require. Further only to a spring in the town is the so-called Fountain of the ****** where Mariah obtained the consecrated water for her family from there. "In this super diameter, Etréstles wanted to find the childhood periods of the Messiah and thus be able to see him advance in his growth, but he knew that perhaps the hidden mystery of the stem that only grows in the discord of Nazareth, invaded by foreign civilizations, could not be verified. that did not allow them to stretch boundaries beyond the entire concordant Universe. In Patmos I always had the precognition that above..., above the doors of the unknown..., there must be anti-material physiognomies that will move offspring that in twin lands would be housed in Judah. As we approached the perimeter of the city we dared to cross, whose text contains the decree issued by another Roman emperor not mentioned, which prohibits under pain of death the robbery of tombs including those of relatives or changing a body from one tomb to another. The date of registration is discussed. Someplace it at the beginning of the empire period; others in s. II AD It is highly unlikely that they have any direct relation to the ignoble accusation leveled at us disciples that we had stolen our Master's body. I keep digressing without the accuracy of what I say, it's been tens of years without being here, I only know that I am attracted by the rhythm of the music of religious worshipers from Nazareth. just as I heard when they were at the height of a rosy vine near Mariah's house in Nazareth..., here Uriel describes Nicodemus: Uriel says: (Meditation of Saint John the Apostle) "Nicodemus talks about the meaning of being born again and mentions the Kingdom of the Heavens, very rare in the Johannine texts, Jesus was surprised in short to see that a teacher in Israel did not understand the discourse on rebirth in the spirit. Later, in the council of chief priests and Pharisees, Nicodemus defends Jesus, explaining to his companions that they must listen and investigate before making a final judgment. The question they ask him may imply that Nicodemus was a Galilean or it could be an irony of his companions." I'm still on my own from today rambling without accuracy in what I say..., it's been tens of years without being here, I only know that the rhythm of the music of the religious cults of Nazareth will attract me. These images will make me observe Vernarth notice in me and in all these advanced episodes, this is transmitted by Saint John the Apostle. Eurydice took note and dared to dance in the warm senses that throbbed under her feet, signaling to renew herself in an Offshoot of the seed that grows hidden in the shortness of every Nazarene born here.Expressions of freedom and glory appear throughout the village the world dances in the part of the ministerial bends attached to the Holy Spirit. Flowing dance ministered by Levites and worshipers of the Lord God Almighty God or Yahweh in a spontaneous way, salvific and with healing interweaving the existential and vernacular ribs of the chosen people worshiping the Prophet. All danced together and anointed, enjoying the ceremony. Vernarth thought his magical ears thundered with Levitical echoes as he was under the supra-starry sky of the Christian world that repeated itself, returning with a new one appearing at each interval of the festivities, everyone did them as they came and went with the pillars of their Faith rolling, and they covered with the mantle of the night flooded with ceremonial Vines and ministerial Bread like a great vault in a great ominous mansion. Here where the Messiah from heaven will trepan his senses, Feeling emotion and art, all braiding like alpha beginners until finishing the stupid omega dance. We will fulfill a company of prophets descending from above preceded by lutes, drums, flutes, and harps. Thus the sons and daughters will be celebrating with Cherubim in unmistakable steps praising Him.This Hebrew-Biblio dance will end in adoration on a warm night that continues to reach the imperceptible senses where everyone celebrates and intertwines with trans content affection with everyone celebrating in the ceremony. Then they went to the tents near the Messiah's house to sleep concelebrating in tiny circles. Everyone was very excited..., not being able to fall asleep believing not believing that perhaps they would never again live something like this in a city forever whether to live it or not..., eating and drinking the same Nazarene Bread and Wine. All this was closely witnessed by the god Nothofagus in the middle of some brambles, it has adhered to the fungi that persisted in the brilliant brilliance to personify them in the Genus Itheoi. Hanukkah was coming to Vernarth, it was the Liberation of Judah as another purpose of Vernarth's physical and parapsychological regression in the arms of Hanukkah, purging his spiritual body to leave his Piece of Muscle rubbed on the helpless ground, perhaps carrying his non-biodegradable shell matter in his Leonatus; as a new prince replacing Alexander the Great in the true Hellenic polis adopted and claimed on the soil of Judah. On the walls of air in Gaugamela, I sliced ​​with my Xiphos and Kopis leaving them now dry and sheathed..., to serve Saint John the Apostle and our Lord in the work of the Messiah. For this, we have been revived as inclemency in this festivity of the former Hetairoi strategist of the hosts of the Great Alexander the Great. For this task when they left Nazareth, When it arrives under the finger of Nablus, it is intercepted by these voracious sacred lights coming from the Abrahamic eras, perhaps from Lot in his cave to immunize his offspring. Also known as the "Festival of Lights or Luminaries". This Jewish festival of lights commemorates the rededication of the Second Temple in Jerusalem and the Maccabean rebellion against the Seleucid Empire. Celebrated for eight days, the Hanukkah festival dates back to the time of Hellenic hegemony in Israel, beginning with the conquests of Alexander the Great in 332 BC. C., who at his passing freed the Jewish people from the oppression of Persia, leaving Israel as an independent kingdom-state. After his death, the vast empire remained in the hands of his generals, who entered into war conflicts with each other, for which centuries later the Seleucid Greeks tried to gain control of the region, as can be read in the books of I and II Maccabees, where this festivity commemorates the defeat of the Hellenes and the recovery of Jewish independence at the hands of the Maccabees over the Greeks of the Seleucus dynasty, and the subsequent purification of the Second Temple of Jerusalem from pagan icons, in the 2nd century BC. C. Vernarth, was here as a commander when he freed them from the boot of the Persians, remembering the epic of him when he was a servant of the oppressed legions. He thus freed them forming part of this history which has threads of messianic history and culture cracking gaps for evangelization, that looms under the robes of El Nazareno like a child's story..., to be told to adults with nine Hanukkah candles. Jewish tradition speaks of a miracle in which the temple candlestick could be lit for eight consecutive days with a meager amount of oil that was only enough for one. This gave rise to the main custom of the festivity, which is to progressively light a nine-armed candlestick called Hanuquiá, one for each of the days plus a pilot arm. Vernarth describes: "Our Entry into the soil of Judah..., as luminaries we were received, our messianic introduction will change history in its objectivism freeing the Hebrews from the Persian empire. Inopportune were the new masses of the departure of Alexander the Great who, after freeing them, his minions wanted to appropriate a free inheritance that only belongs to Yahweh. Seleucus, being an officer appointed by Alexander the Great, was appointed chief of the Hypaspists (elite soldiers and spearmen) on a date close to 330 BC. C., for this reason, I looked many times at your countenances, seeing in them the voracity and anti-national vocation to exorbitant the limits of unwary power. This is why in the death of our great general..., Seleucus tried to dominate Judah, skillfully raising the exhumation of the general pointing to a drastic change by pointing his finger at the transgressor! Being justly consummated and deported by the Maccabees. Festival of Lights Celebration of Dedication and Celebration of the Maccabees. Children receive gifts, especially in areas where Jewish and Christian children are in close contact. Hanukkah commemorates the victory of the Maccabees over the Syrians as well as the re-dedication of the Second Temple in Jerusalem around 165 BC. The re-dedication was necessary because the Seleucid king of Syria, Antiochus IV Epiphanes had desecrated the temple by installing an altar to Zeus on the site. When the Maccabees began to prepare the temple for rededication they found that they only had enough oil to light it for one night. In the end, the oil lasted eight days until the new delivery of the new consecrated resource, the candles are lit every night of Hanukkah to commemorate the miracle. During the first night, a candle is lit in a special candlestick called a menorah or hanukkiah. Here Reaeder with Petrobus joined this beautiful festivity, paying special attention to the Dreidel pirinola, which seemed very didactic among the game that captured their full attention. Eurydice and Etrestles holding a candlestick in each hand would begin the second night by adding a candle until eight candles were reached on the last night. The candles are lit by a separate candle called a shamash here was Alikanto and Vernarth with Saint John the Apostle lighting it first and then using it to light the other candles. The candles are installed in the menorah from right to left but are lit from left to right. A symbol of Hanukkah is the dreidel, a pirinola with which a game is played. Before the Maccabean Revolt, it was illegal for people to read the Torah under Antiochus IV Epiphanes, when the soldiers arrived the Jews pretended to play a game of chance involving a pirinola. They satiated traditional Hanukkah foods such as latkes or potato pancakes fried in oil as another way to incorporate the memory of the Maccabees free from all invaders, predicting more light than their own Sun.This is how they would culminate this festivity among themselves, in Nablus before reaching Bethlehem south through the desert with their twelve Giga camels..., the luminaries would take them camping through the Nablus desert south to Bethlehem.

Bethlehem ******, Hemophilic Camel so Vernarth describes: "They were falling down a ***** typified as a rebellion of angels. In such a disorder, they have seen a new language and numeral concept. Given before the componential of Steeds, Pelicans, Masked Nymph, Leader of Messolonghi Cemeteries, Vernarth Commander Hetairoi and Saint John the Apostle, wading through the desert of Nablus on mission ****** and the Giant Camels, the twelfth and last of them afflicted with the morbid sin. ****** or ******; is the name of the biblical character described as the son of ***, son of Cam who was the son of Noah. Although the Bible does not mention him directly since ancient times, tradition has considered ****** as the builder of the Tower of Babel. Since the tower was built on his territory and during his reign, it is assumed that it was under his direction that the construction began. But there are also other non-biblical sources, which indicate the opposite, alleging that ****** was not in the region of Shinar when the construction began. His name became proverbial as a "mighty hunter in opposition to YHWH (Jehovah)" His kingdom comprised Babel (Babylon), Erech (Uruk), Accad (Akkad), and Calneh in the land of Shinar also known as the land of ******" Vernarth replied: "They came and went, dragging their ancient Palestinian and Hebrew feet..., helped by ****** to understand and adore each other "When they were on the road from Nablus on the carpets of Kfar Tapuach, a hemophilic effusion occurred in one of their Giant Camels that accompanied them so separated from the remaining eleven, remaining in the hands of Saint John the Apostle. "From that moment on seeing how the camel was bleeding, the apostle falls into a trance remembering the annunciation that will have to take place in the whirlpool of biblical time when they arrive at Bethlehem." The Angel Gabriel will reincorporate right here when he said to Mary: "Do not be afraid, Mariah, because you have found grace before God; you will conceive in the womb and give birth to a son, whom you will name Jesus." Then the Camel turned around and said...:"I will be there..., seeing his short feet and his long crying confusing them at night in those who are jealous of him for his smiles of an infant of seven..." The camel in telepathy transmits to Saint John: "All of us have a long road ahead of us, the road of life that we have to follow day after day. Today it flows strongly in me, unable to stop my torrent like my previous parents who were never able to cross Palestinian land. I represent the line of Gigas Camels guides since the angel Gabriel spoke to Mary; For this reason and because I am an energetic guide on the path of life leading the chosen ones of the Messiah. With challenges of long distances and terrain with adverse spiritual conditions, that is why I have inherited the ancient blood that has traveled over my Palestine and Hebrew. Biblical time... It has determined in me that so much blood has been shed since the Messiah left for the House of our God, that being a camelid in flower every two years when this hemophilia crisis hits me, incarnating in others the sins that will be amortized with his body and his blood. My liver belongs to my Palestinian masters, they eliminate the viruses in my body but the healthy genes are Hebrew and remain in me for a short time until dawn. My time is more than the southern time process is the southern temple opening it on my consciousness of the pages of the Bible "Before the stakes of the World come out of the straps that hold it..." that being a camelid in flower every two years when this hemophilia crisis hits me, incarnating in others the sins that will be amortized with his body and his blood. My liver belongs to my Palestinian masters, they eliminate the viruses in my body but the healthy genes are Hebrew and remain in me for a short time until dawn. My time is more than the southern time process is the southern temple opening it on my consciousness of the pages of the Bible "Before the stakes of the World come out of the straps that hold it..." that being a camelid in flower every two years when this hemophilia crisis hits me, incarnating in others the sins that will be amortized with his body and his blood. My liver belongs to my Palestinian masters, they eliminate the viruses in my body but the healthy genes are Hebrew and remain in me for a short time until dawn. My time is more than the southern time process is the southern temple opening it on my consciousness of the pages of the Bible "Before the stakes of the World come out of the straps that hold it..." Saint John the Apostle replies: Few words and numbers are rolled from Nablus, they will be decoded by ******..., collecting the months so that we can see an increase in the proteins responsible for blood coagulation and in the reconciliation of the Palestinian-Hebrew world. This treatment will actually heal his hemophilia with both fatherlands in me, not only by treating him and reducing the bleeding but to pay for the sins of these salty nations already prophesied for our salvation that the Messiah judged.Saint John, taking the leg of the Giga Camel, caresses him..., he makes a gesture not to feel pain, but as an anti-death, he begins to heal his wound, covering himself with flowers of the Hebrew spring. A candid and volatile mass of Rose of Saron petals settled on the camel's leg. While Vernarth tried and helped him cut off a certain portion of his leg. But a miraculous fusion flower occurs that is mixed in its leg and from the same stem of the flower, regenerating the gangrenous part of the Giga camel..., in a great time of the Temple growing in God forgiving the Palestinian and Christian sins, juxtaposed to their illnesses almost being guests of a crippled scientific metaphor..., but much more Christian Salvific. The camel recovers and they put out the fires, they continue through the desert on the carousel of the camel's parents' lullaby, singing tenderly to their son camel, that they would never leave him alone and that his words were restored and decoded by ******'s command to his ears. Not far from Him, with words and strange Palestinian neologies and numbers of the Menorah lit up to the right. Shortly thereafter to reach Bethlehem, almost like synchronizing the magical steps under a star that heals and renews all the meat of the camels in the human world, before being listed to the eternal wind of the native village of the Messiah. with words and odd Palestinian neologies and numbers of the Menorah to the right lit. Shortly thereafter to reach Bethlehem, almost like synchronizing the magical steps under a star that heals and renews all the meat of the camels in the human world, before being listed to the eternal wind of the native village of the Messiah. with words and odd Palestinian neologies and numbers of the Menorah to the right lit. Shortly thereafter to reach Bethlehem, almost like synchronizing the magical steps under a star that heals and renews all the meat of the camels in the human world, before being listed to the eternal wind of the native village of the Messiah.

*** bei Hinnom  Crypto-Crucified

Following the route of Arimathea and then Emmaus with our tired feet we entered the region of the southwest towards Jerusalem, to *** Bei Hinnom specifically. Obviously, we were going to Bethlehem, but the Apostle decided to spend the night here.Vernarth speaks through the voice of the Apostle: "The open southwest gate of Jerusalem points into the valley, which came to be known as the valley of the son of Hinnom. Here the Israelite residents used to perform rites that worshiped Moloch presaging destruction. In those ancient times the Canaanites sacrificed children to the god Moloch by setting them on fire and burning them alive...; a practice that was outlawed by King Josiah when the practice disappeared, it became a city dump where garbage was incinerated, and also the carcasses of animals or those of some criminals. The dump and the fire make the metaphor to indicate that "Garbage" (disobedient) are those that burn day and night. Later, after this narration..., the Apostle took them to Mount Zion, where the coffin of King David is.

Parapsychological insert Vernarth Pandemic MMXX, comments...: (Here the god Vélus has Zefian's arrows to wear the Magaf or boot that would unleash this Antonine plague in Italy, until the resource of the MMXX in the modern world, as it was in 165 AD C.: Magaf in Hebrew means "Boot" since the quarantine began in March..., it continues to occur in Israel in a nation with a vast history of pandemics, it is that since immemorial biblical times it has always been hit by plagues, it has been a maximum in comparing it with the reality of the world that does not mutate in its virulent evolution. It has a Bota root, which could be related to social passages of the Bible in the context of Quarantine, which in Hebrew means isolation "בידוד", which has a similar root to Magaf, giving the genesis to which this apology coincidentally raised the virological expansion in Italy, suggesting its geography in the form of a "Boot" such as Italy. From where the itch of this Pandemic began to the secular world in great mortality statistics reissued in the current world. The Valley of Death exemplifies water opening, and Arab and Israelite slopes. Polytheism instituted among the archaic social networks degenerating the infallible root to which each one belongs in its independentist root of aggressive trait and autonomous to survive on themselves. Moloch or Melech, as they are called by the Jews today, is a conductive agent of overcrowding of the archaeo-cultural, practicing trades of high violent Intercultural Religious confrontation. Two intuitive cultures two nations, with different gods and languages, both walked through burning Gehenna as ancient culture in their inseparable history that tied them by invading hands in the past-present. Avodah Zarah in Hebrew: "foreign cult" is the name of a Talmudic treatise of the Nezikin order of the Mishnah and Talmud. Nezikin is the fourth-order of the Mishnah and the Talmud, Nezikin is an order dealing with the laws relating to harm. The main subject of the Avodah Zarah treaty is the laws regarding the Jews living among the Gentiles the goyim, in the treaty are included the regulations on the interaction between the Jews and the "idolaters" which represented the majority of the population not Jew or Gentile during the writing of the Babylonian Talmud. The Apostle says:"On Mount Zion I was with the master in "The Last Supper". Very close to *** Bei Hinnom, what predicts Life and Death beyond our beliefs but if it is death..., it is the angel in his consort who is accompanied by others, freeing us from the sin that we hide, crushing us in the overloaded Karma" Replies Vernarth: "beyond our paths to build..., today we are submerged in a techno-idolatry, subjugated to the trans-nationality of global networks that deliberate and trans-compete under our tutelage, with no other options than to live together avoiding slavery itself before Moloch, sacrificing our children to the altar of the aforementioned "Technotheism", giving them intelligence beyond all the valleys that force us to depend on an overwhelming social and technological electromagnetic dependency. Falling noisily backward onto a ritual hillside to plausibly be handed over to us as "Human Technological Trash." Depositing in us millions and trillions of neutrinos and radiations through universal space like that of any Mythological god, lying abandoned in time without end..., beyond Life and Fabulous Death. Or perhaps our Last Supper..., it will be very present in our daily lives in this incipient technological techno-theism, worshiping the God who will imprison us in his algorithms as a whole man, or perhaps one day be traded in Crypto-Currencies by a broker on Wall Street, to be handed over and betrayed by this Broker-Judas to our crypto-crucified collapse, paying for the sins of others burned in Gehenna, on burning garbage that we ourselves have deposited and No! emits Amblyseius: They were on the Hebrew ***** of *** Bei Hinnom preparing to sleep. Bright wells could be seen around him, once everyone tired joined their experiences around the campfire, the Apostle went with Vernarth to pray on the northeast *****. Walking in silence and with burning fear they were circulating with austere care not to fall into these imaginary wells in the fangs of the gates of hell and its crater tempting them to get lost among it..., before reaching Bethlehem Says Vernarth: "They estimated a well of seventy meters in diameter and equal in depth with high temperatures that emanated from there in a sulfur mixture..., the apostle prospected and witnessed how the earth swallowed some natural elements that were there. The most surprising thing was the gases that flowed through real Gerakis that were abducted into permeable, heavy,  and bluish monoatomic that emerged from the underground cave of some Canaanite god.Thousands of years of expectorating and having the bronze crackle of swords of justice in the "biblical blue" of a possible Hebrew tekhelet, neither I nor anyone else could recreate or imagine what it could be in itself. Random face from the time of the Second Temple, which towered over Jerusalem until it was destroyed by the Romans where a blue dye of the same name would be used to color the fabric used in the clothing of the priests..., admonishing them on its perimeter."A Jewish man who was still commanded to wear a 'tekhelet' thread in the knotted fringes of their prayer shawls, although it might seem that was left unclear for years.The source of the Tekhelet is not specified well in the. According to himTekhelet's dye is produced from a sea creature known as the Ḥillazon; which is the exclusive source of the colorant. There are three opinions in rabbinic literature as to how many are to be blue: 2 cords; 1 rope; 1 half string These strands are then threaded and hang down like tassels that appear to be eight. The four filaments are passed through a hole 25 to 50 mm away from the corners of the four corner fabric. A comparative deception has been made of trying to touch it because they looked harmless and silky when touched.Fearing that the crater would cause the appearance of apocryphal mites dressed as a priest with Tekhelet that was sustained in its physiognomy, with the escape of various dangerous natural gases determined to self-incinerate. They estimated that they would be extinguished in a few minutes, however, it has been burning for centuries and parading before curious maravedís; As precognition to the business of the Inquisition charging money to Jewish converts in exchange for rehabilitating them.Since then it has burned non-stop and provided an impressive melodrama in keeping with the creaking of the valley walls that were outside and close to the southern wall of ancient Jerusalem, also stretching from the Valley of Hinnom to the Kidron Valley. Saint John the Apostle speaks: "I will mention a Valley like that of Cedrón..., a place that our Messiah traveled as the Gospel refers to He passed with us to the other side of the Cedrón torrent where there was a garden into which he and his disciples entered. The ravine of the Cedrón valley begins northwest of Jerusalem resting on a slight depression of about twenty meters that reaches a depth of one hundred meters. The wells like a quantum leap, he rushed us into both depressions, witnessing pre-cognitive Christology..., "The henchmen took him along the Kidron Valley to the gate near the pool of Siloam; and then they scaled the steep path that led to the common palace of Annas and Caiaphas, on the height that is now called Hill Zion." We feel divine and mystical assistance that were intertwined from *** Bei Hinnom to the Kidron Valley in each depression that flowed the extradition of the Messiah, whose previous referendum would splinter his hands staked on his resonated feet and his intra rib. On the way between Gethsemane and the palace of Annas and Caiaphas, I felt an aggressive impulse pass over the bridge over the Cedrón torrent, throwing our Messiah to the bottom of the torrent where the imprints of his feet, knees, and hands were left on a very hard stone. and head" From both sites the depressions twinned the facts of geological upheavals that would cause the implosion generating noises and silences of greater size when ignoring it, by the time it began to decrease in frequency and volume heightening that would fracture with the decibel in the middle ear with total disorientation. In the Well of *** Bei Hinnom, Mites would begin to ascend Amblyseiuss wirskiique; that they are a species present in regions of Israel for that bad effect. This predatory mite was found in large colonies suspended in numerous grasslands, among them they were hidden and neighbors to the horticultural crops of Los Olivos. These crop larvae are assiduous to migrant citrus trees that spawned Cypriot whitefly larvae that came to mourn the mourning of infants under seven who were incinerated. Predating young larvae of other species by means of severed white mosquitoes. They began to radiate horror at the cries of the burning children of the time with the martyrdom that pierced the bark of the bushes entangled by this unusual phenomenon between the valleys. This colony of mites frightened the apostle and Vernarth by making them believe that fever of degenerative abundance was symptomatic in them in the flagellated human species, with whips in their tentacles degrading in tiny status between food chains, for more predation towards them and their companions that they were in the camp resting next to the warmth in the atmosphere of the unknown. Vernarth ran swiftly to open some gates that contained the doomed river, levered some stones to increase the mechanical noise on the growing colony of mites in such a way as to lessen the dominant action on the arboreal and horticultural species,

Hex Birthright

The composition of this Hexagonal primogeniture is changing by itself visiting you in this hexagonal course that is now oblong by the rays of the determined morning, inviting you to take the dry cove to Bethlehem in the company of The Apostle, Vernarth, Etréstles, Raeder and Petrobus, Eurydice and Alikantus. They get on the Giant Camels and meditate on them, it was not yet dawn, there were six camels for this hexagonal brotherhood, and the remaining six were for supplies and clothing for their retinues. They all stand in an oblique line looking towards the Valley of Hinnom and Cedrón..., waiting four minutes before the Sun appears. In each one, a legaña of balsamic acetol would begin to skim off with the generous Sun reigning on their Davidian faces. At that very moment, the King appears to them from the front, strolling through the long Davidian caravan..., in their very faces, thus stopping in their march and seeing their imploring and bronze hair like an alliance of lights on a cold morning. Davidian Presence: "There are four minutes left for us to appear in the morning twilight, it has been four hundred years since I ruled Davidian as the second of Israel, I was born in Bethlehem where I will go with you until I reach this pure oasis of the House of Bread. center of the Old Testament, I was the Eighth and last son of Jesse or Jesse, a member of one of the main families of the tribe of Judah, the prophet Samuel secretly anointed me sovereign of the Hebrews when I was just a boy taking care of his father's flocks in Belen. I have created a united and powerful nation of a markedly theocratic character, though short-lived as it vanished shortly after the death of my son Solomon; while in the religious sphere my poetic compositions stood out, "recognizing myself as the author of a total of 73 psalms", and the great project that I ordered to build a great temple in Jerusalem to house the Ark of the Covenant building that would have ***** my successor on the throne." David, get on the seventh Giga camel, and they all go in a file when four minutes fell on the sand of Northeast Jerusalem turned into burning flames in the hair of Davidian dawn. All catch their shadows with a vocalized assembly by the turquoise stripes of the Tekhelet that he carried on his Davidian skeleton. From the minimum moment that allowed him to climb his bones until he mounted the Camel on its exterior, his past became lightening of volatile blue flesh, leaving for the first sabbatical day that ran through his calendar. He tempered over him the compromising memory of him that wandered before his birth and after his death where many wanted to incinerate his Tekhelet for him, or perhaps plagiarize him in his agony with the Messiah when he met with the apostles. above his grave. Davidian Tomb: "When the Lord was over me, I felt his aroma of Davidian flowers approaching, covering my coffin with two square meters of the perimeter of my death that began to be purged in the Messiah. My body was ingested like horchata in my blood vessels. Many times I wanted to get up and break down the barriers that separated us, but I was distracted by the serpent that seized in front of me, co-indexing the apples of my tree that never got worms..., turned into brass serpents on slung chariots pulling me away from the arms of the Messiah. I saw myself at his service in nine light-years from the twelfth applicant with billions of kilometers more, that is, a quarter of light-years to reach him, estimated. My four minutes are what I aspire to reach the five that remained of my temporal origin..., to restore the last thousandths of the end of my life to honor him ubiquitously, even looking at me from the universe from where he observes me, listens to me and will speak to me Davidian..." turned into brass serpents on falcate chariots leading me away from the arms of the Messiah. I saw myself at his service in nine light-years from the twelfth applicant with billions of kilometers more, that is to say, a quarter of light-years to catch up with him. My four minutes are what I aspire to reach the five that remained of my temporal origin..., to restore the last thousandths of the end of my life to honor him ubiquitously, even looking at me from the universe from where he observes me, listens to me and will speak to me Davidian..." turned into brass serpents on falcate chariots leading me away from the arms of the Messiah. I saw myself at his service in nine light-years from the twelfth applicant with billions of kilometers more, that is to say, a quarter of light-years to catch up with him. My four minutes are what I aspire to reach the five that remained of my temporal origin..., to restore the last thousandths of the end of my life to honor him ubiquitously, even looking at me from the universe from where he observes me, listens to me and will speak to me, Davidian..."The Davidian Phenomenon continued to impact everyone because this happened to the ungulates when they sensed outbreaks of the cluelessness of the sky, believing they were a part of it, but the bodies of space are so far away, just as their whimsical light would take a long time to reach us, wondering about the universe of another ravenous dilapidated galaxy. The more distant the object of our consecration is, the longer it will take for the light to arrive and therefore what we see is even further away than in the past. Perhaps his lineage was a thousand years before it could materialize after 1040 years..., after David he did not seem bothered by the refractory passing of the degraded millennia. This equation was worth using to ask the Messiah for mercy for not having made his nation the best it could have treated and inherited towards him in sync at the time he was sentenced. In such a way to subtract years from the one who was born and ruled, so they would be subtracted from him as it is due to his soul that comes traveling with the invisible speed in the bluish light of the Menorah. Light Davidian: "it was 1040 a. C. that I saw the birth of light approaching the same one that saw us born in Bethlehem in the same village of the Messiah after 1040 years in which it separated us both and saw us born in different age phases..., he arrived at his stable next to his Davidian mother. Messianic I fell abruptly from the burst of beams of extinguished light years similar to those that accompany me today in the ceramic that also appears in Bethlehem.In this way I will follow your exalted Hexagonal primogeniture together with the Davidian spectrum, accompanying him to the people who gave birth to both of them."Sheba Dean, Vernarth states: "The Hexagon turned us around and we looked at the Zoroastrian sky, a new star guided the seven of us mounted on golden backs on camelids, now King David on the seventh Giga Camel". Saint John the Apostle intervenes: "In my symbology of the Apocalyptic as an ancient Davidian I give the testament of liturgy and that which appeared in the first centuries of Christianity in which its praises, prayers, petitions, characters, cults, ornaments, incense, Eucharist, chalices arise. , the saint, the amen, the lamb of God, the ******, the interception of the angels, the archangel Michael, the antiphons, the priesthood, the faithful, the meditative silence, the nuptial supper of the lamb; so are the numbers. At the same time, a symbology of the numbers is brought, giving them meanings; this is why for this author the "one" refers to God; the "three" can represent God although for the Jews it represents the divinity, and for the Christians the trinity (father-son and holy spirit). In the apocalypse the three appears as a fraction instead of the whole number a third part, a third; which indicates that neither is a full God nor the "fourth" that is the creation, and that two-thirds are not affected by what the third part is; the half and three and a half taken are from the book of Daniel and mean fullness as well as the "four" and the "seven" perfection, as well as the universe or creation of the representation of the four cardinal points, the four evangelists, the four living beings with God. In the apocalypse "the 5th and 6th" originate cataclysm and the "sixth" a vision of hope, the "seventh" the trumpets. The "six" denotes imperfection but one is missing to reach seven which is perfection; this last number in Hebrew is called "Sheba"; "twelve refers to the 12 tribes of Israel" (Jacob) (16), to the 12 apostles. If we make a calculation of the twelve tribes of Israel we also have to make it of the 12 sons of Ishmael that we can also consider them as twelve tribes. Which is equivalent to two pairs of 12 or 24; this last number multiplied by 2 is equal to 48 and 12 times 12 equals 144. Here we can continue calculating the multiples of 10 and 4 and thus group figures to give them interpretations. The number 1,000 would be the general idea of ​​a great number, the 1,000 years of the confinement of the dragon. Observe the negative aspect of some numbers that do not appear in the texts on "numerology" "King David, goes on the seventh Giga Camel, that there are five that are missing from the camels of the twelve (he being on the seventh) to get to mount the last one before they reach Bethlehem. "the 5th and the 6th" would originate a cataclysm but also glimmers of hope when they hit the sixth, and this could happen in multiple ups and downs in the lands of the birthright that saw both Jesus and King David born. The raison d'être of this Davidian way is Davidian Way He says: "Being on Mount Zion below the subsoil I imbued my proportion to my cenotaph asking to be my rest here or another. In the Old Testament, it says that I was buried with my ancestors in the City of David. Archaeological ramblings and excavations place my City south of the Temple Mount and not on Mount Zion where my current tomb is located. My city was the original settlement that became Jerusalem, they have searched for me in excavations of the City of Davidiana but they have not discovered my Tomb. Some have thought that I was buried in Bethlehem..., my city is also known as the Davidian Way,... but they look for me in excavations in Bethlehem and they do not exhume me from my grave. On Mount "Sion is my spirit" that looks for the Messiah still by some stairway that indicates looking at us both as humans..., both as kings but He is my true King. Here the pious and spiritual boat of Bethsaida had to pass as a consort in the Miracle of Pentecost that took place in the same place where the Last Supper was celebrated, the washing of the feet of the Disciples, the Meeting of the Disciples after the Ascension of our Jesus, Apparitions of the Risen Jesus and the Election of St. Matthias as an apostle, which was located in a high room on Mount Zion. He could be found in many places, but where I have wanted to prevail his well-deserved and welcoming place shared with me is in the Cenacle near me in my Tomb where he celebrated his first Eucharist. And now especially that I am on the seventh Giga camel hoping to reach the five that are missing to achieve the twelve that are missing beyond the cataclysm of the five that remain to get the twelve. That by equivalence it should have a correlation with my numeral year of my birthright 1040 BC and by a factor of multiplicity that if we make a calculation of the twelve tribes of Israel we also have to do it of the 12 sons of Ishmael that we can also consider them as twelve tribes. Which is equivalent to two pairs of 12 or 24; this last number multiplied by 2 is equal to 48 and 12 times 12 equals 144 as an arcane and secret measure of the edification of creation. Here we can continue projecting my work as a geometer calculating the multiples of 10 and 4 and thus group figures to give them interpretations of the size and measure that unites me and separates me from the Messiah."

Filled with a great piece from the cruise through the sands and the Judean desert, They were almost asleep in the hemispheres of each region that waited and recirculated with the energies of the desert. With its shifting landscapes, constant limestone hills between canyons of deep Philistine souls, with rivers and oases like Nahal David. They marked the passage of the camelids and the hydric solitude that dominated their fictitious vegetation. King David as the seventh horseman went far from those who opened fences at the tip of the anvil of the caravan. He felt moved to release the clothes from the cenotaph... from him, perhaps entering the Eucharistic pavilion that resembled his open mouth; He as a Young King was proclaimed, and he remembered when he was active in reacting to retaliation to scare off the Philistines, with his namesake Saul. They used to raid herds and fertile agricultural land, for which David begged the Lord what he should do in the land of Adullam? the Lord spoke to him and told him: "Let him rise up and destroy them", he did so and rushed over them thus beginning his reign of liberation from these barbarians. As they made their way to Bethlehem, the King felt that something was missing to fuel the atmosphere of his return to his homeland. Since then from the sky descended a flock of migratory birds that joined him when he fed the abdomen of the desert attracting six hundred Hula Cranes. King David whistled copiously which attracted lake birds creating an atmosphere of trance. Here time stopped and it rained softly sweet water with messages of love and everlasting avian hubbub. He recalled six hundred Cranes like the ones that sheltered them when the Philistine troops escaped, taking refuge in the cave of Adulam. Everything seemed scarce biometrics of the arid event in an arid destination. All embedded in the vegetation of xerophytic thickets and exegetical brambles that lit up with calypso color at each shoot of the past millennium in its early biblical time, when they approached the vicinity of the valley near Bethlehem near Beit Jala, erosive processes were imposed with meta desert factors of vile landscapes. Aeolian Eolionimia tramontane winds were falling on his Tekhelet, letting himself fall from the relevant heights with cranes with gravitating mud on their ends, with gravel from colonized riverbanks of the rocky Hamada desert areas, three fossil birds were climbing the rays that reflected the crown of two Kings to meet at Bethlehem. Arriving at the sacred native city and beginning in Christmas choirs and passion for the faint whistle on the twelve Giga camels, they venerated the hemispheres of energy prayer that insufflate from the eternal walk of the guide of their breathing wounding them as migratory birds of a series of fraternal cranes that invited him to be confused with the whistle of the divine Solano solar wind that calmed and stimulated the enormous breezes to warn the villagers of his enormous arrival together with the Apostle Saint John, converted into dusty fissures in quarries of the surroundings, where they stopped their work and deposited another rebuild in another temple with a greater whistle than a Sheba Dean.Shavuot Messiah; Shavuot is the second of the three pilgrimage festivals of Judaism (the others are Passover, Passover, and Sukkot..., which is walking in the desert after leaving Egypt). The Hexagonal Primogen took seven weeks through the desert and the Holy Land to reach the target that is Bethlehem. It would coincide with Shavuot; with bucolic meaning corresponding to the time of the year in which in Israel in particular the first fruits are collected. This is why the holiday is also called the Feast of First Fruits. During the festival, it is customary to eat dairy products, accompanied by the seven characteristic species of Israel, based on yogurt, honey, fruits, vegetables, and spices. In the existence of seven in their camelids is the vibration of their fruits and spiritual messages. The Shepherd and His Flock According to tradition, the area located to the east of the city, belongs to the fields of the shepherds, "they only keep watch in the dark for the shepherds who are in the field." Several churches have been built to commemorate this event. Even today local shepherds can be seen tending their flocks in the same area (even on Christmas Eve). The relevance of this land of herds is the conclave of this brotherhood, Saint John the Apostle, King David, Vernarth, and the retinue of animals plus Eurydice. They are beings of light that come to pick up spikes and sheaves, the seeds of the gramineous environment that surrounds historical vibrations of dissolution of resurgent energies from all corners. Despite being a thousand-year-old Canaanite city, this city now has the visit of this conclave that is going to loosen the chains that had been folded in its geomorphic genesis. Here the memory of the seeds and spikes are impregnated with the "Lady of Light" made and made of the divine seed that feeds generational infants, whose silence generously retransmits all those who will give birth to pain and all those who memorize your gesture. Mother, Parents, and children will go through the past of a farm that only admits one seed "Gleaning his Divine example". Flooding and spreading beyond all limited expansive creation of the Marian World. Before approaching the confines of the village, Archangel Uriel becomes aware saying: "Gramineous Consort..., herbaceous Shavuot divider Spike between races, lineage and family, typology, lineage and hyper gender... Here lies your superfamily thickening ancestral in daily sheep...energetic molecular matter..., golden passers-by flowers of Sutra thorns, glucose polymer molecule, herbal and decreed perennial network...vascular bio Mariah..., graminaceous chopped stems..., crowns to the precept! striated Angiosperma, the tabernacle, prevented weeks of your veil and hoarse ritual...Bethlehem..., on veiled feet, golden tornado wind....extreme advance..., carrying flowers to your Messiah, re-blooming womb, scales and pitch collapsed on your candle..., varnish between milky honey... traditional ancestral embryo... full holistic, skillful milk and aloe-myelin and consummate Messiah..., pheromone teaching nativity..., rescinded to Nacer. Here is your Shavuot Hexagonal Architectural Primogeniture where nothing is born and nothing dies, mutualism roar great prayer of subspecies... high-sounding and metabolizing Big Bang..., intra-species, specimen Guru-intuitions, Sheets in beads..., between Ruth's fingers and her uninhabited herds, Druid plant ficus..., sagebrush, plain rock, and rainy past weaving, Here below you I double its wool in July... Sheaves of wool that undress, Brave Period and histo-weaving tillage..., fateful hunger and cotyledon... Bread on tiles of your altar; germ to satiate..., awning to heirs to plunder...A quarter of your barley toast..., will prostrate itself fascinated supposedly in a rooted basket, Junco discerning in thunder, pseudo-diaphragms reflowered millennia, perfect Sheba of Seven knotty and amplified trumpets between the eye of the Universe... thousand-year-old Reed roots on the back of my hanging donkey distilling in the confines, affirming themselves still and tremulous of ogre sheaves..., restless Davidian affirming themselves in secondary roots..., in bifurcated grass lights,... in empty Davidian center, through the Davidian center big bang space of Bethlehem, Messiah..., ear of the Lady of Light...! between prayers of forty and more to the right..., multi germinating." ... in the empty Davidian center, through the big bang space Davidian center of Bethlehem, Messiah..., a spike of the Lady of Light...! between prayers of forty and more to the right..., multi germinating." ... in the empty Davidian center, through the big bang space Davidian center of Bethlehem, Messiah..., the spike of the Lady of Light...! between prayers of forty and more to the right..., multi germinating."

Saint John the Apostle is frozen by this senso-oratory, lengthened his phonetics, his words, and accents, making himself almost unintelligible as he tried to record himself and imitate what the archangel recited. The slopes that formed a beautiful valley moved to the opposite ones. The verses transmuted clarified energies, caloric and meteorological, the wells of the oasis sites that dwelt for millennia lit up like rubies in a Pingala aphorism, resurfacing in borders that adorned the presence of visitors. With energy channels and energy wheels, they traveled like turbines to the left brain of Bethlehem where north and south intersected vertically, pouring out the Prana that threatens the storm of the intellect, which sleeps what awakens in the port angle of North and South. Thus Bethlehem received visitors who entered with their ungulates, faking being nomadic mountains on camels that prowl in random sedentary circles. Shofar and Asherah, already set, begin to direct their destiny to the heart of the Nativity area where their origins and areas of the omnipresent West Bank strip were. They entered with strong winds clinging to their bristling camelids, everything had the atmosphere of a city as if it had never been inhabited. The fringes in floods of the sun were distinguished orange-reddish weakened before storm gradients from the Red Sea and the Mediterranean placating the Hexagonal primogeniture. Although squalls were appreciated with agile movements in the local atmosphere, several layers crossed with the inheritance of Persian cloths in colorful blues and orange tints coming from the red sea and the quarrelsome storms of Asherah "The mother of all the gods", and He who was the "father of the gods". Known among the Babylonians as Ishtar originally called Athirat (or Afdirad). She is the great Semitic goddess of fertility. In the Bible it receives the name of Ashtoreth, a distorted pronunciation of the original 'Astart by including the vowels of the Hebrew word boset (shame) according to the custom of the rabbis, to discredit the pagan divinities. Asherah from the Bronze Age (before 1200 BC) The Greek form is Astarte. Astarte was considered the "goddess of the Sidonians". In the Amarna Letters, she is Ashirtu and Ashratu. The Ras Shamra texts identify Asherah ('atrt = atirat) with El's goddess wife; they call her "Lady Asherah of the Sea" and "progenitor of the goddesses", here she would be the mother of these discredited Babylonian forms caused discomfort and discomfort in the face of a living past and present in the intangibility of inheritances that greet others that could supplant them. This caused heating of the ground in the podiums or legs of the animals with an abnormality of the Greek-Babylonian wormwood prostrated at the feet of Asherah, leaving an odorous atmosphere of wormwood in the land of two native Kings of this jurisdiction, attracting dissipation on the roofs of some surrounding houses to the precise place where the Messiah saw the light of lights and those who waited for him together lighting him with candlesticks. This sacred wind caressed everyone's hands and insinuated them to take charge of the new Bethlehem, a vicissitude that was being reborn with the illustrious visit of the Apostle. His consolations were dilated as any caravan that increased its predictive volume equalizing the pressures of the air that surrounded the streets where no one appeared and was seen generically. This centrifugal force rotated their terrestrial spirits, originating the birth of a great thickness of crazy gases that populated the roofs of the village. Thus creating greater weight and highlighting the freshness of essences that were torn from the soil with the aroma of grazing, explaining to themselves the presence of sub-areas in the West Bank and insolating redemption of the arrival towards formal merit contrasted by the gesture of being staying next to this at night, and varying many times until bringing them the holy sacrosanct condensed water, deregulating the thermal sensation.The density and buoyancy of the animals' legs made it difficult for them to select the right moment to stop and dismount. The aerial relief that went up and down went up on the walls of a few rooms linked to the nativity stable, pressing on them the adjacent words that were allied from the ground to soon arrive in an ascending spiral converted into light and wind on the seventh horseman; King David, appearing to them right there..., right there before Him his Abigail, the third wife who gave him an advanced reconception by presenting him with an altar that will endow eucharistic missions during his admission to Bethlehem. On the gradient that led to the hill of the stable, an unexpected phenomenon swirls around them, affecting their vision and consequences, rotating them all to the rear of the original access to the stable. Converging winds on the ground and upper external part of the stable and causing an anticipated shine of the space that would prolong them to under-understand that they had already arrived but were still seven hundred meters from the main access and that the city was not Bethlehem, but another that seemed to emerge from the arid soil next to the stable, dividing into inter-strips that rubbed against the original and current ones, in such a way as to generate a great development of the subsoil on the vertical that sounded stentorian and vibrating as if in a long stay on the distributed assistants in this supra abnormal regime. They arrive exempt from grievances but dismounting gentiles..., the sixth piece of crowns of Kafersesuh bringing the fertilizations of the Ibico Ring 6, for the central stage of investiture under the shadows of Hellenika and Theoskepasti, where everything will be endowed with the greater Ibix called Wonthelimar together with Leiak. David speaks: "When I approached Moab, I asked for asylum in the protection of my parents..., so I myself would burst the eardrums of the Philistines for each rugged network of links that join me in sponsoring my counterattack advance towards their domains. In their unknown territories of the enemy appears before me a noble and friendly joy; Abigail, who fills the history of my land with beauty before the very son of a cruel Canaanite; Nabal. She enriches my lands more than the entire multiplied population of animals every time I count the units, I look into her eyes and forget the greater amount that moves her heart towards me because of that I did not spill blood on the house of Nabal. Being Abigail is the one that replaces my union with the Faith that moves my passion. Abigail then kneels and touches the ground where he was making the sign of the cross after assigning a cross kissing his hands, on his forehead and chest. Thus, from somewhere her parents reorganized the garments to ravish Vernarth for the bi-connected purging of him with that of David and the Messiah-Vernarth. As in the Jericho tale, Alikanto, Raeder, and Petrobus galloped around the periphery of the citadel, with the full force of the steed's Golden hooves kicking up liquid and dust from the Bethlehem water tables. Alikantus did not carry an amount on his back..., he carried an Áspis koilé of the Vernarth Hoplite. resume their advances in buttresses to build the walls, that they had to mediate to weaken Asherah's overtures to disagree with the citadel borders. The Apostle, Etrestles, and Vernarth blew the shofars as many times as they gloated the perimeter of the city, and they believed that there would be more rounds..., on the divan was the Shofar that could sound more times and louder, it was intact..., but it ran to blowing it Vernarth not leaving a single drop of air looking at the sky that would appear with three bright stars filling the anxiety and attachment to break the Easter bread for everyone. But it was not that effect it was the astral echo of King David's Betelgeuse that emanated with his breath also helping to raise the walls that would protect him from staunch invasions of the lackeys of Asherah. In such a way that the partitions were raised until reaching the governorships of the words of the watchman angel who coordinated everyone saying: Watchman Angel: "For us the partitions, for you the roofs, on the heights the limits will mediate and on their Shofar they will define to Asherah, without any city where to go and come" Such exordium is fulfilled and Bethlehem is surrounded by golden barreled partitions rising in remarkable walls and heights to placate the roaring winds of the Canaanites as in Jericho but the other way around, where they succumbed to the mandate divine to allow them to settle in the thousand-year-old town hall. Finally, they remove the twelve camelids from the ante circle that did not allow them to settle in the settlement, managing to settle down to revive a bi-natality and double reign of whose splendor only the luminances of the Messiah and King David embracing them will speak. From the extramural continents they remain desolate, they revive the pristine and angelic countenance of Abigail bringing dinner and a fetish Shofar to each one of the components of the Hexagonal Birthright that began to continue the seven weeks in Judah. The legacies of Magraner"Punica granatum" were bushes that appeared to them in the focus of the micro center of the fire, entering with some tenuous and sinuous branched thorns getting muddy coming down from the tassels of the Shofar feeding the curiosity of all those who were encamped surrounding a fire full of sounds with new positions of devout pupil sounds of high Jewish principalities, cordoning off objects of the Apostle Saint John who shared it with Etréstles..., giving sonorous instrumentalizations to rams that came around them... looking for ravens that jumped on their heads. Due to the binding and cracking of the shofars, in the opposite works of luminosity, the bonfires hung over the same faces of the wise counselors who unfolded them with their young shiny branches and sheaths before others underexposed yellowish-greenish with obtuse apexes. Resigning shallow marginalized exceptions, polygons of pre-flowering and shofar-formed on valves that escaped from ashes of shutters that were detached from the last fleeting flame of each minute running to the right. Everyone collected the nectars that the legates poured into chalices, drinking them lying down to swallow them while reclining and being able to look at the stars that emerged from albiceleste flavors, rinsing the arms of each one by touching them with the shofar like petioles stems on the seven ruminants that sought to recover what they had they made heavenly sounds about themselves.  Etrestles says: rinsing the arms of each one by blowing them with the shofar as petioles stem on the seven ruminants that sought to recover what they made a sound about themselves celestial. Etrestles says: "When the shofar speaks, past pastorals speak inside and outside the community, the most outlined has been to understand it as a trumpet of bony projection; that is to say, formed by a bony and pointed matter that is born from the frontal bone sealed by a layer of keratin that forms an aerophone horn cover. The horns of Moses come from a translation of the original biblical text perpetrated by Saint Jerome. When Moses descends from Mount Sinai, where he met with God, "the skin of his face had become radiant" says the Bible (Ex 34, 29-30). In the original Hebrew the verb "to radiate", and "to emit rays" is from the same root as the noun "horns" so Saint Jerome did not think twice and translated: "cornuta esset facies sua", or that is, "his face was cuckolded".Taking into account its timbre and sound quality here with you, it is not difficult to associate it with the sound and with the golden patina simulating Messolonghi's fingers..., which three by three-piston their bone reaches linking in some ways of beauty, goodness, clarity, brightness, and stories that will accompany us in this bonfire between these raised walls to level the vaults of the Messiah's nativity cries. Calibrations and catechesis on the real moment of his symbolic Lineage at dawn awake and alive, with waves of graceful voices with goat hosts reordering the urban matrix of the erected town..., everything will be at the expense of surrounding us and pouring out the voices shuffled with the shofar to protect us from Asherah in his eagerness to move us away from the fundamental site." Vernarth intervenes: "In this passage it is clear the capacity that the shofar..., and the sound produced by him with our similar voices being amalgamated with him, bawling and modifying the environment to a polyvalent physical dimension. Now we are a herald of goodness, beauty, and reconstruction, part of a noticeable dialectic to neighboring Canaanite cultures as a sudden reconversion between what was built and what is about to be founded even if something were to disappear in it. The wall was rebuilt in reality surrounding all of them beyond the golden light of the shofar producing today's creation and not devastation, encapsulating kingdoms in wisdom and lucubration..., this is where we have all come from the return of didactic cultural forms independently to attract us towards his teachings in an anonymous converted world with the purpose of reconverting itself into a solemn alert that precedes us.



Paraps XXVI

Messiah of Judah III part

Miracle IV- Baptistery

Stressed knowing that he was on a hill reserved for the beautiful settlement and elevations to the east of Bethlehem, he understood to facilitate the unusual lighting. stress; Leader of the Koumeterium Messolonghi felt that after thousands of years of his life in this Holy Land a great value of omnipresence. The Miracle of Christian protocol would begin with him paying for votes and tributes in the Church of the Shepherd's Countryside. In this rock of special mysticism, "He begins his rebirth in his tenth life before there were nine in Messolonghi (Koumeterium Messolonghi-Editorial Palibrio USA). A miracle happens that transships him to caverns that would transport him from the oldest of the past nine cycled epics in Kalavrita, Kalidona, Patmos and Messolonghi. Here he will come face to face with past lives, in The Fountain of the Shepherds,   in this analogous with allegorical motifs commemorating the shepherds and their flock by those who crown this fountain, having before our eyes the sculpture of the shepherd and under his feet floral motifs such as palm leaves, heads of cattle, sheep, and ducks in the act of drinking. In this hexagonal source it is equated with the Hexagonal Primogeniture, here is the miracle that would come to arise to reunite with the intangible Creation and Illumination as clothing. They thought they were closer to the village... but in reality, they were three and a half kilometers from the village itself, in a fenced compound with a wide path that runs through the park on the hill between trees and lush flowers that clearly evoke the place where those First-century shepherds brought their sheep to graze. We were all dozing off when certain royal decagonal sounds would transport us through the church..., on its decagonal plan, it appeared surrounded by four chapels and the apse that houses the altar, covered by a large dome of mortar and glass that lets in, illuminating the altar as it did. the guiding star that pointed the way to the shepherds. Here the murals that protected us from the hosts of Asherah had already disappeared. Most likely, they were keeping vigil over us with great chandeliers as they opened up in swamps from the sclerae of our desolder eyes. We were trapped by the quagmire created by Raeder and Petrobus in opaque clouds of sheep manure spilling through the corridors of the unknown worlds of climactic grazing. We went to its structure and over the entrance door, we saw the angel of the annunciation and above it, a singular bell tower incorporating us into the façade through three relaxed arches. Inside the beautiful fertile field from a marble church in two colors, some spaces could be emphasized, to which the columns that support the roof also contribute. The chapels are adorned with precious frescoes that represent scenes of the annunciation to the shepherds and arrival at the birth and altar table that is supported by the sculptures of four angels above all with the appearance of the hexagonal primogeniture between these angular stones. That hexagonal and polygonal effect in both parts were intra-excavated from their own vertices, They crossed a straight line from the north in a double semicircle that was concentric in the precise diameter of the equatorial inscribed in the central circular bleat that a sheep lactated..., here the shepherds arrive and receive them with great hospitality in symmetrical affability, shaking them with their shofar. over their songs and tunics..., each one was blessed by the nascent air of the other more than a steppe grazed by ruminants and palliated mouths. Twelve degrees to the right in the sixth wick of the Menorah, a regular silhouette was lit, becoming this intangible whose thirst makes them drink water from a hexagon well much more equidistant than walking between themselves, moving their hands with all the urgent emotions and dynamizing numb emotions that would vibrate from the third angle by clothing them with vertices of light that shone from the convex morning. There were six complex roots equating each other on the regulated plane of animals, which were parked near the medium stone walls where Raeder would climb to run over the walls, standing out more with each side in which the same forms of expression could be appreciated, embraced and emphasized. those who could decide to generate a rebirth of two kings and that of Etréstles by an internal lighting hex. Close to the church, colorful caves can be seen in the calcareous rock that dated back to the fateful Herodian era, denoting some surprising utensils found, of which we know their mission of the chapel when the diocese was founded.

Etréstles, receives a luminescent self-radiation immediately from caring and guiding as it has always been, but now in a tenth luminescent life in living connected to its own cisterns. An enjoy approaches him showing him his paw..., the curious thing is that this dog had six fingers, there he was convinced that it was his generous shepherd and that he would take him through internal labyrinths of his lighting by the sixth finger to help more unwary and unconscious beings that illuminate and grant subconscious existence in pumps that have lost their law in affront and self-rebellion. His sedition would begin with the substitution of grass so as not to depend, but rather to maximize them in the cavity of their stomachs, so he began to wander through the hills seeing how all his sheep fed on dry land, without any water source.

Raeder ran along with the cover of the stone walls, Petrobus turned around the perimeter of the inert time of the upper ledge, and the camelids raised their shining legs filling the herbaceous pastes in their timbal snouts, Alikanto sensed that only three kilometers away he was already presenting himself. the stable where they could surrender to the intubating silence and the innocence of a super little one who came and appeared..., knowing everything. All animals eliminated pastoral toxins and pheromones being free from enterotoxemia, distributed from the soil and the gastrointestinal tract of the youngest, not appearing in the holy ovine soil with the bactericidal absence of Hexagonal Primognitura. the pheromones in this chapel it was assimilating between special olfactory glands that would reign. They would fan the wings and its bursting abdomen, rubbing it on the roof of the prominent chapel like a domestic beehive. They would exchange the oral use of the inaugural soil to receive them in the animal creation controlling the cells of the chapel and segregating the maintenance of the backward world. The mandibular pheromones could be seen falling to the slab of the church, becoming sticky as they progressed to and from everyone's entrance. The pheromones of the sheep created recruitments of the others in the integument of each cognitive inflection plotting them to enter the baptistery, something like that would never have been possible, this was a great miracle in the rebirth of Etréstles when they could enter their own womb..., they lay down on Etréstles passing over his abdomen generating honey from his own mouth, giving the pheromone of the sheep when transiting and of the bees that provided him in his abdominal cell. Chemo Neurons and receptors renewed would be in charge of expanding circulating olfactory lines, causing an electro transmission of energy never seen before. Everything happens as a result of the metamorphosis of Etrésltes and his hairy clothing often lives on the backs of neurochemicals filling him through the largest lobe of the winch, which he had and carried in his hands and which he had requisitioned from the nearby mill of the ancient Christians who lived there. The apostle says: "Each verse..., a molecule, each surface a new system..., each membrane..., the rebellion of stimuli..., energy chain, sensitive organism..., neural axon, physiology, six hexagonal angles Pastors and Primogeniture creating together with a new genetics of harmonious existence that does not tire the sight of the Creator, seeing how everyone has fun in the garden of their house" The baptistery has a hexagonal base, which coincides with the primogeniture, since it is based on six anthropoid-zoomorphic elements, missioning after the vestige of memories of the Messiah, whose doctrinal base will predominate the exiled Apostle who miraculously returns to be close in the church of the shepherds with six angles that concentrate their escort, towards a single center of the tabernacle that will be reborn in the figure of Etréstles de Kalavrita. Vertnarth says: "Blessed light of luminescent glories that you have made of today that nothing ends in nothing..., everything begins..., this plan transfigures the purge that takes longer than the light that does not turn on from the darkness surrendered before its vassals. Now king tomorrow vassal, now sun tomorrow darkness. Nothing produces pain only temporary blindness, what hurts the most is exposing your face to death and your mind, In Ein Karem, two ears in spring besieged Etréstles falling asleep on the cross that was in the bell tower, could not wake up the next day among molded bronzes. He had had excruciating nightmares that prevented him from waking up. This is how he describes the dream: "I was heading towards some heights of Ein Karem when I was going near some hills near said city, some Roman Praetorian soldiers appeared to me and arrested me. Suddenly I woke up after having recovered from the severe beating they gave me, they interrogated me again, and they put half of my naked body in the middle of the body of an underground cistern, trapping me towards it by the enormous ice that was distributed in my body. They told me that they only wanted to test my resistance to water in this cistern to test my Hellenic Constitution by resisting darkness and high low temperatures as a Hellenic foreigner in Hebrew lands. Well, I was always very intrigued by everything but there came a moment when a luminescent light settled on my head in Ein Karem..., it was Isabel, the mother of John the Baptist telling me that there was a path where I could escape. At the moment that the guard came towards me, she surprises him with a viper that stings his hand..., quickly escaping the guard. Surprised I ventured to escape but when I was far from the cistern I returned to thank Isabel, I found myself face to face with the viper that was nested in the rags left by Santa Isabel..., Likewise, in the textile fringes, the viper uncoiled biting me in my right hand. So I had to leave quickly and go find Kanti who was waiting for me in a suspicious meadow. Precisely he took me to the edge of a bush where he pulled me close and with his snout he licked all the poison out of me. So he woke me up in the bell tower of the baptistery in the spring with the ears of a steed." Continuous parapsychological regression: I had been left alone in the hexagonal radier, full of brambles dressed in tides that fell from the bell tower on my wound. They had all left because they couldn't find me. Immediately Kanti took me by the hand and put me on his back, to go to Ein Karem; the Land of the threshold of John the Baptist. We headed to an important Christian site which was the birthplace of John the Baptist. Everywhere grace abounds on every fence, wall, and path, we rode through the alleys for hours until my wound healed enjoying my prayers while riding on my beloved Kanti. I felt that the left ear of my sorrel when walking without a shadow, showed me the essence of a prepubescent who had been born in this village, where his mother, Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, became pregnant and gave birth miraculously. Here, before this same lure, the restless right ear of my beloved Kanti told me that there was another child who was in his mother's womb; Mariah who was also pregnant with Jesus, and for this reason the village well is now called Mariah's Well and its waters are considered canonized. Kanti's parable: "By moving my ears forward I see our comrades around here near and behind, and in yourself, I love healing your wound. Now I will continue with my ears ***** and flattened back, making myself invisible to the Praetorians who want to target you with their leprous tongues." So I will continue with my advanced antennas forward and well dilated to hear the good steps of our comrades. Likewise, Alikanto kept his gaze on some pomegranate trees that stood out on the stone wall at the bottom of Ein Karem, while the chestnut advanced, he mobilized the base of his ears. When he felt allergy in his forehead and in the arched anatomy like super Kanti. In the domestication of him and in the use that Etréstles gave him after long days of the war, his steed had a tendency to suffer stretch marks at the supra muscular-osseous level. Showy macule like this, but not in his anatomy of immortal Equus as an external anatomical and physiological steed. Here the membranes of his cardiovascular apparatus are opened, separating him from divided Cretan and quadruple blue blood, turning in his Lazikos dance with hyper-oxygenated airs locked in the Ganymede sprouts when he was kidnapped from Mount Ida. In his exile he took care of sheep..., Zeus looked at him out of the corner of his eye and his own bled..., Zeus fell in love with him on the spot and sent him the eagle, "Which Kanti has interpreted here as the blow of Saint John the Evangelist missioning his telepathic vibrations through the corridor of the monastic cell on Patmos. Knowing that this steed and namesakes are of origin from super ventilated atmospheres and foggy areas of the northern coast of Crete. Calling himself that, about stunned himself..., about the serpents that snake sparkling from religious Hellenic mythology, between Chthonic gods or spirits of the underworld, opposing the celestial deities. The timpani telluric tremors of the hexagonal tectonics would merge with those of the chapel of the shepherds and that of their percentage share in Etréstles, of a sixth portion of the sixfold Hexagonal primogeniture. The steed's morphology resembled that of Ein Karem in super-ordered hoofed limbs like those of a mammalian placental, walking in the cracks of the quivering fingerprints of its odd footsteps. Etréstles says: "His head is the same as mine..., neck and trunk, the sigil on his pyramidal neck in which he could read the Torah. The technical nasal orifices of it are beautiful straps surrounding the headgear, touching his weariness beyond the vigor of finding him in a place of sherbet of the cisterns after having dealt with the leather that pulls his pair of smooth ears, over the blind spots maneuvering in the cove of his beautiful Cretan poetry being like that too when blue smoke smoked from Hestia's orphaned chimney. Fine trapezoid grace where her neck nails the circumlocution of her knee and the gauntlet of her inseminations and straight mane regenerating and blocking the rays of Zeus in the concave cups of Ganymede spraying them on her beard and mouth the liquor of sober trickery. I continue in the balance of so many battles won, with my Xiphos and Áspis Koilé,... beyond fearful purges that allow us to find ourselves around the corner in front of Vernarth, waiting for us to shelter Kanti's ears in Ein Karem. " They left Ein Karem after having had the vision of the Mount of Temptations even being far from the place. Grouped together again and looking at each other, she saw that his face was rejuvenated, putting his Herodian gestures in the company of King Davidian.The Messiah was born, a King without a castle or subject knowing that children under one year old are attacked by plagues or sacrifices. Messiah King of the dying world compresses for what bleeds the divine blood from him. A trifle of Messiah in each one speaking with their eyes after looking at several roofs without their own roofs, all serene,... without blemish in the middle of their faces in the violet iridescence, sounds and choral masteries that emerged from the surface in flocks of white from the Azores islands, they rained multiplying on their wings before arriving at the mass of the annunciation near the stable. Vernarth arrives and sees people gathered with their heads together and holding hands, others holding the bells of animals to hear the sweet voice of the little boy rippling like cotton in the harvest from the braying of a colt that dozed in the shade of its parents before eating. Vernarth puts down his sword Xiphos and genuflects and crosses himself with the hand that allowed him to move his fingers against his right Lynothorax wounded in battle. He makes a metallic cross sign by crossing his swords with water flooding the sidewalks of ultimate dazzled ideologies. One day he wandered away from the alleys of Emmaus where he had visions of Praetorians discovering idolatrous moods and scents of a newly arrived child from the white clouds of an approaching stable. Vernarth puts down his sword Xiphos and genuflects and crosses himself with the hand that allowed him to move his fingers against his right Lynothorax wounded in battle. He makes a metallic cross sign by crossing his swords with water flooding the sidewalks of ultimate dazzled ideologies. One day he wandered away from the alleys of Emmaus where he had visions of Praetorians discovering idolatrous moods and scents of a newly arrived child from the white clouds of an approaching stable. Vernarth puts down his sword Xiphos and genuflects and crosses himself with the hand that allowed him to move his fingers against his right Lynothorax wounded in battle. He makes a metallic cross sign by crossing his swords with water flooding the sidewalks of ultimate dazzled ideologies. One day he wandered away from the alleys of Emmaus where he had visions of Praetorians discovering idolatrous moods and scents of a newly arrived child from the white clouds of an approaching stable.Intrepid and with light-years, he came crawling in his arms with his crown traveling from the smallest space that relieves the world in a Templar, first-time and omega period, with the appearance of being born by all. Perfect and newly born with frequency blue body, blood, and eyes. Covered with gummy gelatinous substances..., anti-Herodian; seeming to save others with their small hands of the divine womb, which manage to enter the heart of God, even having fingers that do not reach the edges of God. It never seems strange to him, only that his ***** seems to never come out of him. But it is spontaneous, he sparkles outside the womb of his holy mother with the immersed placenta in the prayers of the induced shepherd of the womb of the ****** Mariah that great arms shelter the orchards to surround all those present in birth that seemed like that of a donkey's ******, who could raise his son to be King of consecrated animals as well as few making dalliances to the right of the resident Menorah getting up early. Vernarth says: What are we to expect?...the vigil...with his shoulders hunched and his head pointed north of Jerusalem this little king bent on his pre-fetal knees, after nine candles to the right of the troubled Menorah. Even though the midwife who helped the puerperal Mariah was not premature and they distanced her from the halo parenthesis that playfully changed where to put herself, close to her saintly interior, that is, triggering the powers of phosphorescence. Self-creating a thick but light layer of psyche that would make him already independent of José and Mariah...and if they weren't! His fists since childhood had signs of a stigma when he was just unborn and not born, azure flames came out of his hands lighting up the eyes of his dazed parents. Rabbi's golden machine lactated seriously when her mother slept, she didn't allow him to see her conscious of her drawing intra-lactations of the lymph from her entrails, whose gothic light ****** the dominant Magnificat of the Vulgate. He ****** on the object to take her lactation and her left hand to space it out to all who wanted to go into meta-object lullabies. Thus, her thumb and finger are introduced into her mouth, pressing them on her startled palate at the braying of the graceful donkey. All those present took with their hands the others with their own thumbs, returning to their childhood cycles just laying down in the manger. At that moment, far from feeling the imagines walking near the fields of vision, shiny noble metals..., their candelabra eyes dazzled as if they were brothers. Here he moves his arms copiously as if wanting to fly from there, with the vigor of her winged mother, to follow her beyond a tender left-handed Golgotha ​​deception. That he kept the pendulum coming and going from one arm below the other as he turned on top of her, embracing her lush maternal hand. His early nervous system was celebrating on the back of the colt, highlighted with rags in temples that he imagines to be sacral effluvium in waters on the flat beef, the camel and Raeder and the Petrobus Pelican and other animals that were on their knees smiling with their hands glued to each other all sweet to the right of the sweet nectar of the Magnificat. All the excited animals still trembled with emotion on the demure ground of this alpha biblical moment, all imitate the trembling animals but each of the adults who were there hugged the hands of each animal and child present as a sign of giving comfort to the parents together to their children who seemed to be already an adult saying goodbye to their birth. His scaly breathing was full of anagrams of Magnificat, they used to trace analgesic sources of the dream of seeing him between golden and straw fistulas of grasses breathing next to him. The voices were felt from outside of those who could not enter of glory and breath without equal of the rancor of the world distracted in a piece of tin and hardened hearts, now resplendent from seeing so much sleep looking at them and drowsily yawning in a golden child. When they breathed her glory, they followed the patterns of the priestess Deborah, who for some normalized her feminism and strength as a mother breathing the libertarian history and matron of a nation that should have been born in a Judah stable. Mary and Joseph were distracted every second looking at him, they felt that the Messiah grew too much, worrying them about this strange unreality. They breathed more than their own son seeing him without breathing that they had to do it in the garden of the man who allowed him to do it today. As long as it took their parents to distract themselves, Saint John says: "Godson and Man, the priest made Pope..., the minors run after the elders, the bible for more apostles so that they swell and spread it, that the gospels add more pages and favorite editions. Prochorus; you who are...in some seat of Patmos prepare sacred parchments with thick corpulent ink..., which will reach your cell and seat. Studies..., something wrong...? An anointed Christ needs us to write for him because his hands are asthmatic in the words and in the inspiration that you move all the pages of the world reading them scattered and disserted,....in each well and each step was son and man, where king and mother and where each mother has to dry the cloying slime that dries up the mystery of having her white and emaciated. Let him sleep, perhaps when he wakes up he will meet a Messiah who will never stop being in his arms.

Kafersuseh. One-Dimensional Beams

More than two thousand years ago there was a mischievous infant who looked and looked curiously at the beams when he was born in Bethlehem..., especially ones that crossed! This happened in the polarity of the magnetic stable of Bethlem in a portal on adjoining hills that received him overflowing. This glorious empowered looked at the beams that wore ingenious crosses, seeing himself there being still an unborn he knew that when he was born he would already leave this unborn universe. Above the trusses that riveted the frame, he approached with his lonely gaze above the roof being able to see some beings of light organizing a Eucharist on the roof of his stable two thousand years ago that could be more than an edict that he would inaugurate the sagacity of caring for and giving newborns what many wanted to see but few knew who he really was, even having no record of him or his lineage lost in the middle of the strips of hay. Says the Messiah: "A few minutes ago, or more than two thousand years ago...? I counted the times that the Res waggled its tail, and I realized that he already had selected visions in Kafersuseh, higher than the ceiling of the beams..., in the sunroom, some outcasts also visit me, reborn and loving. It even has to be detected that someone came from far away but arrived late, I was only able to observe him know how to join him to my pariah criteria. He was tidying up the altar receiving orders from the unsupportable upward hardwood scaffolding telling him so; "That everyone is in alliances lining up for those who didn't fit in the stable." I looked at the roof of the barn seeing beyond...being able to verify that my custodians were there preparing the beams on the plugs that crossed each other to climb to greater viewpoints after rubbing the rough coatings of their flogged texture like whips from the underworld of Elpenor. That gentleman remained, and not when I lost sight of him with mine as a child-man, since only he distinguished me but not so the beings of light. The disillusioned Eucharist was being consecrated. I never rested in looking, resting in a forever, because I saw that my eyes became fringed lights in the lasting oscillation of the chants of the reveille or the tri sonar of the shofar. During this time a rising angel appeared, trying to get in and out then he belatedly decided to join the group of shepherds who were herding their sheep in the fields near Bethlehem, and he told them that he brought good news because the Messiah the savior of the world had been born. The shepherds left everything to go in search of the newborn since the angel told them that they would find me sleeping or in dormancy..., but I was not staying on the manger, since I was up in the space of three sounds of bells, almost farther than close to those who announced my advent. After three sounds of bells, three shepherds of light came down from the roof seeing in me that they recognized your minds, thus being they who blessed my journey on a day in the Middle East, even being on a roof next to the paradise that I officiated in the splendor and perfection of the world as a man-child not far from the magician outcasts, who parodied all the songs always with followers of Zoroaster and my Kafersuseh up to Gethsemane and towards my mother. The Messiah was still abstracted looking at the sky while he was busy putting his body to sleep. There is no doubt that his unfolded being made him move his first steps in original words that alluded to a game of learning to give the first in Judean usage on the stables.His disconcerted hands of his body made dance stories of those who were close to him, making only about fifty grouped there in watermarks that ran like seconds within urgent minutes without time gathered in the Jewish dawn of Eretz-Israel. Saint John the Apostle says: "God is concerned about the material world and about this creature of His that predetermines us. This is the amazing thing about the Father and the Son. Behold... I will walk in the dark, not in the light. So you will see the trait that not a lifetime will take me to know which in its similarity and who inherits the body and soul of it as in the hands of a bumblebee. I feel love over the hate of others, I see the light that could be a self-confidence to those who resound in their tired and inattentive ears, maybe that way they will see when they can see better without listening attentively to the sound of the bumblebee. I see the verses fly and how they fall one by one on my soul in order obeying the flocks early, like a herd ordering those who one after another look at each other later ordering the perfect law of the beginning in a reconciled end "In that instant, fragrances of the dense flowers in water transmitted the anxiety of those who wanted to continue listening ecstatic and fragrant, but as they got rid of their presumptions they fell into the abyss on the banks of the cliff garden of Malaki, where many of them coughed or cleared their throats luminances that attacked their feelings wrapped in judicious phlegm on their limestone tombstones. Vernarth says. "Drink with me..., I have a new concoction from the beginning to the end where the branches enter with their effect from the same branches the true light that savors mistakes and slips comes out towards you. I have scabs from many shadows, but the unfaithful passion that hates me with such intensity is ennobled when seeing me prostrate before the Messiah who does not tire of a new change when seeing how his rounded limits shine on his face, much less of adapting in square limits nor to continue being born and dying, by drawing the curtain that his selfless mother always shows him to sacrifice, immersed in Gnosticism and of all those who tried to relate it " We will not be able to ask ourselves many times who we are being in front of and every time a child is born amidst variations that make all mischief its preciousness because it is born from the locked heart dancing in the greater acceptance of the welcome cycle of being born and being reborn. Even so, never having been among them, the systems of credibility are tired of their limestone material..., they register and suggest all kinds of contemplations in a vague naivety that shines between gold, myrrh, and frankincense. All those who were present transcend to resent their consciences by believing themselves spiritual while tenderness accompanied them, but not religious but the leadership of a creation will be presented to them in this stable that we see just being born that is above yourselves being born in all that concludes in an epistle under the dominance of "As you believe and love not seeing, what we see in us not believing" Indefinite before this stable we pray over the mother on her arrival, and we will pray in his mother when he leaves..., he is physical for those who accept him as a divine man and he is vainglorious for those who do not, those who do not tire their limits do not move the fence of their three-quarters demarcated, entering the undemarcated spirit as mobile emotional , girding a father and his image beyond because it escapes in our reason and faith, if not it is beyond or closer to what is usually a voluntary desire that always remains, if it is the Messiah everything is accepted in your mistakes of returning to reprimand after erasing the test of your random Being reprimanded, what the error feeds in you is digested by your active mind. Here we are extended before the anti Faith and Distended Will, underlying a new tradition that will need to relive it and get to know it if those of us who continue to speak of ethnic faith or about the naturalness of multiple tasks of their intolerances. Little Joshua says: "My fingers disobey me from her because they are far from my mother's, when I want to bring my visions of her closer to her, I throw myself into her gaze to ask her permission. But more than anything that leads us north, it flows faster than my shadow feeding on the light of the epistle. I sing and intone wills that come from so far away but I am distracted by looking and seeing those who organize an altar not so far from it..., up here on the roof. I feel without knowing and without knowing how behind them is my Father, and next to them in line the pavilion of the multitudes that sings me of haughty brave and Lord for those who are not. I never get tired of talking about the beams! they flex with the horses of the universe, and the dimensions intersected with my passion in my tension that falls compressed and falls reluctantly at the moment of tired inertia. The prism makes me hold on to the portions of the arcades of the stable, and this is in the creaking of my doubts in the desert of Jericho. The torsion in its mechanics as a noble beam, unbearable does what my reflexive pains endure so as not to stress the beams of others. From Nazareth to Bethlehem, a great effort to sustain the tension and torsion of the mechanics of the altar in the hands of those who fall weightless without feeling the weight that their load lightens on my back. In this slender mass and geometric beamed wood, the daily calculations that my father makes when he is tired to hold the world and my trova back are deformed, and when he is with impulses beyond them..., he deforms what the torsion does on it and does on the other Merida angles. And because as his son I don't know how to interpret it unidimensionally...? whose axis and radius I never knew how to understand, making myself wisely ignorant, taking hold of their garments strongly and of the mysteries that go beyond a constant creation in a stable" The Aramic Semitic language was presented in this Eucharist, on the Kafersuseh, by Joshua, He took his father in the stable with all those who came to see him, he looked at them beyond thousands of years to come to meet the humanity that lay grazing, always addressing them in Aramaic parables. While below the kings gave him offerings from the east, above beyond the studded beams, King David was consecrating him. Behind the King was the Father Creator supervising the thousands that his son Joshua would parley with Aramaic tongues, when the thousands of futures are consecrated alive in their astral bodies to the right of the Menorah, together beyond the archangels surrounding each one. Joshua watched carefully as his Aramaic lingual farming went further from Bethhlemem, beyond Kafersuseh where the evanescent height responded to a canopy shed of the beam that leaned on the stars, populating his trapezoidal back for a provincial development in his nonverbal escape from losing his unborn language And entering Aramaic through the divine membranes that descend through his olfactory halo language. However, he was already beginning to descend from the terrace to address the base of the peasant Christians who adored him and extolled him horizontally, lavishing him with water to distribute in their hands and faces beyond his visions. Joshua looked at Joseph and felt that his Aramaic was already his, but he would leave in advance walking towards the Garden of Olives..., towards Gethsemane, to meet with a frank theo-dimensional language towards his Abba Creator, surrounding them with Lepidoptera that burst their chrysalises plaguing taxa of Aramaic micro languages ​​to take them to their Abba who would await him in further ceremonial on the flat slopes that flowed with him in a language that might one day be lost as a dead language. However, this Arabic language will go in placebo on these pollinating Lepidoptera and they will go from the sacred lands to Gethsemane from their heavenly visions to Kafersuseh. In their homogeneity as dialects, the impetus of Lepidoptera began to be reborn here, traveling in nocturnal groups, to Gethsemane on the same day that Joshua came into the world in Aramean lights. When Joshua was born his Aramaic language traveled from the highest beam above the roof of his barn, to arrive with his biological Lepidoptera lingual species to pollinate Gethsemane. To migrate from that moment his word that he kept knowing that his body would be lost before those who tire in their eyes by not being able to decipher or read. Thus, transferring pollen from the stamens to the receptive macula of flowers in the angiosperms that will populate golden olive orchards mounted on vectors of the aforementioned pollen will be flown and piloted in more olive trees by the bees that will carry strains from the Kafersuseh in Bethlehem to preserve the moral language of Joshua. Although the new labors in humanity with all this and manner will go astray as a non-preserved language, not even imaginable at the birth of the Messiah until the beginning of a Gethsemane in a united Aramic body and language, but with an invisible Aramic body in those who do not you will be able to see the migratory flight of the Lepidoptera applauding mixed with bumblebees.
Messiah of Judah
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2013
Time to Get Serious: In the Poet's Nook

Yes it is verifiable, just as prior alluded to,
a few frayed and weathered Adirondack chairs,
wizened gray, like occupant, all seen better days,
overlooking the Peconic Bay,
where inspiration glazes over the calmest waters,
your ancestors eyes ere forebear.

Despite prodigious production o'er past weeks,
ditties, love laughing tributes, silliness aplenty,
these works of dishes washed, odes to Paul Simon,
what to wear to your funeral, knuckle kissing, etcetera...
Though some contained soft shelled, mints of juleps hints,
little sundries, items for sale re suicidal thoughts,

no one takes-tales you serious

Be it tormented rain, intemperate gusts
whipping lashes of sand
excuses real, manufactured and yet,
despite opportunities always existed,
but you answered the question unasked,
you're unready, more likely, fearful.
to pen more in the Inner Temple, in the nook.

In the nook, the poems float by,
you need only extend arm and
grab them whole,
ripened by the delivering breezes,
If you unmask pretense, and wear a seat belt

But here I am, and the welcome I receive is the one
deserved, for one who has joined the ranks of deniers

Favorable prevailing breezes service the sailboats pleasantly,
turn surly and unmanageable from neglect and disuse poetically,
this wind mocks this coward, taunting:

We have waited, fall and spring, for you, our sacrificial lamb.
Your return we smelled, the odor of barbecue and suntan oil,
We observed your beach touring, your eyes upon the moonlight
Highflying, highlighting the path you follow
when walking upon the Water,
when nobody knows, nobody sees


You scarce provided the deep reveal
that is our woeful provenance,
So, having returned, unleash or leave,  
expose your La Mancha countenance,
Fulfill your daddy's curse,#
Portray the siren shriek of our gulls insistent,
the blood cold words, as of now,
yet unfastened, un-cast,
the forge lit and fired,

Are you ready, self-appointed, poetry smithy, wright-man?%


On knees bent you should have approached,
For the inspiration, years rendered, unpaid, and unacknowledged,
But most of all because of these interlopers attached to you,
So many children, green shoots, babes visiting the bay,
New friends hoisted upon us without permission!


Do they understand despite the solemn serenity
of the place you attend,
This is the observatory
where the stars and scars,
undiscovered and unexposed,
become our property to carry-cross the ocean?


Do they comprehend that black is the only color permitted
and the sunshine coverlet is meant to keep
the unmotivated, the uninitiated,
who think that writing poetry is easy,
unaware, and far away from us, the truth purveyors


Nothing produced from this place
where routine means the gorge tastes bile,
When surcease is welcome relief,
Where dancing on ice in bare feet
Is step one to ripping your chest open by your own hands,
The toxins thus released rejuvenated by salted air,
Can be finally be transcribed
Onto paper
And by human, realized.


Warn them once and then begin, you,
Get serious, delve, with hurricane unambiguity,
to torrential words upon the unsuspecting,
let them taste the rawness, only the truth provides,
let them know salt tears so briney,
They will flee this place, n'er to return.



June 9th
2013
Late afternoon.
#What ya do for a living he asks,
A little of this and a little of that,
All of which, ain't no **** good at!
So I spend my cold, hard time
laying down cold hard verse,
Can't stop, cause it's my daddy's dying curse

My Night with Paul Simon
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This poem is part 1; part 2 is "In the Poet's Nook: Perhaps I should write less"
Judgson blessing Jun 2015
king Cophetua and Beggar Maid is inspired of the painting of Sir Edward Burne-Jones (1884 , England ) the painting run about an old legend of king that found that his love for Beggar Maid was greater than anything his possess : wealth and power . In that painting of Burne-Jones , the king Cophetua was moon stroke of the beauty of a Beggar Maid ,instead of her naked appearance in regard to this earthing consideration  , though he was allured by her state and deemed the Beggar Maid  would trade her natural beauty upon worldly elevation .But anemones was thrown about around the Beggar Maid standing . Anemone is the sign of refused love , to the king most astonishment and great deceit .Here lain the elevation of love above all thing consideration ; wealth , power and others .the painting also ran another significant meaning to Sir Edward Burne-Jones : its an undercurrent self resentments about chaos upon Frances Graham , a lady he was so devoted that got married one year earlier the painting .


What beauty , did behold a lady .
for what a fame completely shadowy.
lo, in dim recess of England a lady did dwell .
from head to toe a feature exquisitely so well .
her face is the panorama of crimson hue .
with dimple and frown so divinely imbue .
she is effigy of the culmination of word beauty .
peeping her through day long ; you will never feel thirsty.
all her face is settled in heavenly attire of smile .
for her possession of beauty is unique worldly simile .
her body had the mark of excellent work of art .
no nymph , no fairy could possess her frame impart .
princess of heaven ,celestial beauty of holy attire .
for your rendition of beauty a painter worship at your retire .
a smile ; radiant and blatant a devotion of all thing heavenly .
a couple of lips very in regular design , most delicate  work of father holy.
the short up turn of the upper golden lip in rosy glow .
with lower lip so justly fitted as lid and bowl .
nay it deemed the most work of legendary painter hand .
but now what a glorious gait of cadence did withstand .
where in remotest antique could we withheld such beauty ?
from head to toe all the feature luridly in unity .
little upwards the average height with magnificent bearing .
her arms and legs proportionally fitted in good caring .
the neck is culmination of adjusted rings darting as snake .
when she depart all her part spring like a dance at music .
slim and fitted with fitting body as a young mutated snake .
but i warrant all thing upon her hip jingling spring like .
her look naked you and everything with impure world .
well begrounded as reflex through giant mirror .
meeting with her personality is a kind of celestial discovery.
like discovery of a gold pit or gas gush in desert of misery .
she betoken of kind of aura that prevails peace .
but Beggar she was at her secluded place .
with a smile she attracts but beg worldly sympathy .
not a corrupted heart or soul she believe in the holy trinity .
what a beauty to wasted but in shameful mendicancy .
the sagacious spirited dimly alluded with grin .
for all the hole tandem dwelt but in rich lustrine .
the quantity is the mother of all pain and sin .
but chastity is holy devotion all in pure spiriting .
oh, what good for us if we just live in nothing but lust .
money, fame and other elevations are vile and endless lost .
pure beauty you behold with pure noble spirit .
rich or poor do only one thing :run away from ignominy .
the Beggar Maid was sitting upon her recess and shadowy .
lo, trodden king Cophetua back of horse of finely white garb .
and riding sat majestically ***** like state pole in richly parade.
perfume and the richness of articulation stole through and filled the momentum .
with guards and valet finely polite and alerted at the extremum .
what a cadence ! what a sight ! as heaven trotting herd .
but lulled in mostly attire and paraded mostly in gold .
with a look the purest radiant and the noblest ever been .
nothing but a grandeur and riches were what to be seen .
settled on horse so holy that was moved as not touching the soil .
king Cophetua trotted and commanded but with moderate majestic control .
beheld with the Beggar Maid that beauty was a heavenly allure .
halt he made and laid his feet on ground with real frantic gesture .
in obsequious and excess real gesture drove to his knees .
and held altogether ***** airy and up tall .
upon the King procession on his knees the Maid took on in respect.
with stature all slanted flat across the ground all beaming in light .
what grandeur or glory fitted before the Maid most alluring ?
nay,fame ,riches ,noble , power ,cunning nor learning .
all but are subjected and tamed ,transformed into nothing.
king Cophetua is a glory ,but pure beauty is holy not a thing stand pure beauty.
for the worship of our splendor is the betoken kind spiritually .
the Beggar Maid is a right down deprived and seemed a cursed sin .
but pure beauty beholds with pure resplendent holy garden .
what life led you through ?behold there is no wealth down here more your soul .
and you are diving in filthy abode and lamenting your spirit in foul .
nay, beauty keep out of lust and covetousness and preserve your spirit .
cause none ,but only you will stand when is the last verdict .

the maid garbed in silken attire float so soft and dainty .
king Cophetua in his mighty clad covered with gold is holy .
i seen you are a beauty , entreated he in lowest musical resonant voice .
and i deemed make you you the praise of my ever unique choice .
yet before God and before mortal i would worship you as holy throne .
the Maid as voice as lute and lyre sang but in sweet musical tune .
my King im as much obliged though unworthy servant of your kingdom .
all the honor is for me ,and upon my foil state is for me a bloom .
my honor is regardless said he ,i fain treat you as an equal .
now deign tell me what can i do to you cause i feel towards you loyal .
glory be to Lord !for you philanthropic reverence my Lord .
for i need nothing more but, 'give me today my daily bread '.
appalled but aghast upon the Maid humble and unequivocal demand .
he stretched ***** in mournful and sad air of command .
and took quite survey of the Maid that is nothing but pretty creature .
for his wildness dreams he never seen such purity upon his pasture .
yet abashed with the Maid demand ,a lesson of life of great enormity .
something somehow weird and unusual stroke him about the Maid personality.
but he restated once more i feel hearty and  kind towards you then .
you might tell me that you need in life now and then .
and sat ***** fancying himself of new pleasant answer .
oh King retorted the latter i had formulated my need .
for faith under and heaven above i have no greed .
nettled he settled his curled hair back thrown .
and so should it be as you but did deem .
and nothing but here receive a dime .
Farah Aug 2018
The thoughts stay awake in my mind
bullied all my life even when I was kind
Struggling, yearning for my weight to go back down,
to where it was when I didn’t frown
Constant reminders of myself
Shopping windows, mirrors and family,
they even put me in therapy
“Brush it off” they all say
talking,screaming,shouting so abruptly
The voices so loud I can’t even distinguish my own laugh

it doesn’t leave

I want it to cast me away
Take me to an unknown island
Forget about me, leave me with the grass
my “flabby arms” and “visible stomach” are my worst enemy,
worse than the seven trench built army
The bullying soldiers both inside and out
They must be right?  
I do not doubt

Somebody help me
Tell me I’m right
Young girls find value in appearance  
This diabolical and alluded kite
This will **** many like me,
who’ve suffered enough and cannot breathe
So please teach them to be smart
you can do more with a brain than you can a face
but in this age, it is a race
Exhausted and drained of people who think they can run my life and tell me what to do. It has to stop.
Marshall Gass Apr 2014
Two people lurk in everyone
the star and the scar
born from building high citadels of power
and cascading into smithereens
when the switch is tripped.
Maybe the voltage ran low
or the circuit breaker was poorly constructed?
I dont know.

I operate on a three phase armour
of emotional stabilisers
that spark and twitch when overheated
with too much energy. But I return
with black faced integrity
collars up and smoking
to fight on another electrifying moment.

'Thats life' I hear
the rollercoaster ride
built into the system
going around in circles
always facing the sunrise
and sunset. We scream and tumble
into the guts of the incline
the switch and roll of events
swerving around corners
holding on ******* knuckled
until it finishes its rumble
and we walk out wobbly and vomity
until the better side takes over.
The darker side recedes
into an unknown pocket.

Author Notes

Thanks to Cinderley13 who wrote about Catfish and Lydia and Lyda and made me wonder what the hell was being alluded to? It now makes a bit more sense.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
JJ Hutton Feb 2011
The light quit working in the jukebox,
the melodies' surrender,
a commonplace extinction,
against the salt and the breeze
of your false Mediterranean.

The burden of your rational soul
in a world of extremes
has torn your spirit to tatters-
tatters littered across
your Toronto abode.
Divided amongst the heirlooms
and emptied bottles.
This desolation you
sought to translate
for the harmonious pulse
of the dial tone.

Hazy,
is this ancient mind,
a smoking fallout of
yesterday's parties
to be discussed over
lukewarm coffee
and cigarette butts,
while the shivering streams
and green plains become
commodified for a higher power.

Dan, my dearest friend,
I loved you
ferocious and freely,
fanged and supremely,
and as your mind coagulated
on a couch,
microphone in-hand,
I felt nostalgic for
your clumsy alcoholism,
and clumsier guitar strumming.

The white fog descends,
the city is hungry--
no longer can it expand.
Toronto eats itself
with you inside,
shall I write you a postcard?
Shall I kick down your door?
Shall I let you join the bones
you so beautifully alluded to?

Whisper, my friend,
amidst the soft croon of
the saxophone,
whisper, my friend,
of a Europe gone defective,
whisper, my friend,
for an apocalypse of sun
to release us all from
the white fog slowly burying
our Toronto.
© 2011 by J.J. Hutton
Erik Sorlie Oct 2012
My visual field flashes white in a moment of highest swelling heart
white light dissipates following blackness of my hearts lowest sun­dried hurt
my view of oppressively low hung clouds questions any earthly sensation, twerked torture
of a self­inflicted radiation of irredeemable gloom, hung by self

The acrid ebony of my soul dissipates to an antique comfort with love stretched infinity
I then breathed an atmosphere of sorrow; snapped, shattered infinity into a pile of broken windows
My call of a family of evil given in an intolerable agitation and searched remedy
led to be found abandoned within a continual struggle of grim phantasm

Necessity spake in me, called one mili­helen enough to launch my remaining ship
a cadavorness of complexion, forced port­side of me when crystal ships started to drip with lies
a guttural utterance whispered blankly, alluded keine endurance
as I could only wear certain textures, and not endure the physical elements of this sensory deprived flower

My conjured will, looks upon the morbid moral of an undiagnosed existence
if not unreservedly found in the recesses of self
rosie cheeks forced not by pleasure, but screamed excitement of eternal enjoyable nothing
as my visual field flashes white with a moment of highest swelling heart
Jared Eli Sep 2013
I'm not sure you understand
Just exactly how I work
I'm not normal
But then, who is?
So let's put formality aside
Have at me, uncertified surgeon!
Let your knives peel back my skin!
Use your blades to cut the organs
So you'll see the stuff within
In my heart is the place where I keep the love
Protected from fiends who like vultures above
Wouldst dare to steal my sacred store
That will deplete forevermore
My liver is a strange one, and yet
You'd know what goes inside, I'd bet
Therein lies all the things I hate
Filtered from life and made to wait
Inside the liver, oh so dense
To keep the hate from the present tense
To keep it all just locked away
So I can try to be okay
Then in my lungs is icy air
That I breathed in, frozen, from your cold stare
I thought you were jesting your eyes must be wrong
But it turns out you meant it like that one Beatles' song
Because I truly did not realize
As I gazed deep into your eyes
Into the soul that just days before
You swore was mine, threw open doors
Your eyes this time would shut me out
What was this alienation about?
But I guess you just snapped and all loving stopped
You were still sane, but your toleration popped
Which is totally fine and I have no problem knowing
That these fractures and breaks had slowly been growing
But I thought if we tended the garden of love
And forgot all the issues I alluded above
That we'd be fine and could just carrry on
And though I still believed that you went and you're gone
So again, I say unto you, uncertified surgeon!
Cut deep into me and pull out my soul
My heart's been ripped out, why not seal the deal
*Tear out my soul with a smile and a flick
And stitch me back up with the thread of past wrongs
That each day I might look down and see
That what was done was done by me
This italicized portion I may steal and use somewhere else
Perhaps in a better poem
   [These statues were exhibited at the Metropolitan Museum after the sculptor's death. The figures alluded to are the famous statue of Abraham Lincoln, and the monument in memory of Mrs. Henry Adams, the original of which is in the Rock Creek Cemetery at Washington. --Max Eastman]

POET, thy dreams are grateful to the air
And the light loves them. Tho' they murmur not,
Their carven stillness is a music rare,
And like the song of one whose tongue hath caught
The clear ethereal essence of his thought.

I hear the talkers come, the changing throngs
That with the fashions of a day surround
Thy visions, and I hear them quell their tongues,
And hush their querulous shoes upon the ground;
Thy dreams are with the crown of silence crowned--

Though they feel not the glowing diadem,
Who sleep for aye in their cool shapes of stone.
Nor ever will the sunlight waken them,
Nor ever will they turn their eyes and moan,
To think that their brief Poet's life is gone.

The tender and the lofty soul is gone,
Who eyed them forth from darkness, and confessed
His spirit's motion in unmoving stone.
His praise upon no mortal tongue doth rest;
By these unwhispering lips it is expressed.

Soon will the ample arms of night withdraw
Her shuffling children from the twilit hall--
From that heroic presence, in dim awe
Of whom the dark withholds a while her pall,
And leaves him luminous above them all.

Then are ye lost in darkness and alone,
Ye ghostly spirits! And the moment rare
Doth quicken that too sad and nameless stone,
To move her robe, and spill her sable hair,
And be in silence mingled with the air;

For she is one with the dim glimmering hour,
And the white spirits beautiful and still,
And the veiled memory of the vanished power
That moulded them, the high and infinite will
That earth begets and earth does not fulfil.
K Balachandran Dec 2015
There in the air, it hung, muted yet palpable,
like the  inebriating scent of new rain on earth
with this signal morning alluded something,
as if challenging anyone there to swiftly respond.

Gazing at the far away mountains, waking up,
pulling away slowly the blanket of darkness
a purple sun above making a symphony of colors
she is caught in the waves of the mood, it's cadence
captures the spirit in a poem; it blooms on it's own.

Zestfully she reads it in her resounding voice,as if
to the chickens clucking around in the cluttered barn
there wasn't any audience other than the birds and the cattle;
a sudden change the chickens,strange, till the moment before
they were looking for a worm or two in the black earth.

As if forgotten all other things the chicken stood
their head held high, beaks open as if to peck
in an attentive posture, they stood listening to her,
the moment they got the tune right,started reciting it.

The cows in the shed  turned to the direction of her voice,
as if it's a song, and it's for them she was singing .
Cry Sebastian Dec 2009
Hide and seek,
I take a peek,
you come so near
then disappear.

I see your smile
but in just a while
I'll hide away
for another day.

the game I play
is truth and dare,
I've worn it out
like an old worn rag.

I don't know you,
you don't know me,
I wont tell
but I actually care.

It's a shallow life
and a shallow dream,
alluded hope,
illusion love,
you're not actually there-

My million pretty faces on an empty fake pedestal.

You weave through my life
like a dream
turned nightmare
turned dream
turned nightmare.

Time is so ****** short to waste it on *******,
Cant you see I'm trying to find you?
How high must I build my castle?

How is it that you're so illusive and far away-
but your scent fills the room
and chokes me with sweetness?
I hate this incessant soppiness!
Argh!

My crazy obsession I try to lie and hide so well-
But it's written on my face in flashing neon colours,
desperation is so ******* unattractive!

Where in heavens name can I find myself a cheap plastic heart?
That doesn't breathe
or feel the need to heal?

If you want money I'll buy you.
If you want freedom I'll lie to you.
If you want a bicycle-
well I'm not really into cycling but I'll see what i can do.

I see so much fear in your eyes-
relationships shipwrecked-
and now you've made your mind up about the facts of life.
You've become the rock of Gibraltar-
tough as nails.

You're scary-
ready to weather any storms-
lonely-
but I still know you're soft inside...

You're just choosing the lesser of two evils-
well for now at least.

I know you still cry for your dreams,
stories that make you long,
but then you remember.

Hey! I get just as **** scared.
I mean, who burns themselves time and time and time again
without changing their formulas on life?

I do.
Filmore Townsend Mar 2014
large beer, with time to
waste. gulping in hopes
at abating stagnant
feel of current existence.
cold and clear night with Spring
hiding 'round the corner
ready to stab out perpetual
cycle for existence. such a
shaming from titled time-
spanse of weather by its
coming and going without
even illusion of choice.
(suppose the Universe never
had a major role in Romanticism)
suppose space will never find
need for periods defined through
titles; suppose man finds
comfort in definitions and syllabic
expression. haikus are, after all,
a buffer between worlds.
digressing with another cigarette,
knowing shouldn't what with
breath being true connection of
worlds. quality of being alluded
to quality of connection and a
vessel's sense of existence.
then, taking time to inhale,
knowing breath given finds
caustic continued life. realizing,
a drowning man cares naught for
quality of final fighting gasp.
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2013
Made to Order

Most exquisite bold understatement in terms of endearing grace all is revealed the mind
The perfect conveyance a carriage the romantic ideal you start with the background
Streets Street lamps that are Victorian the horse is the component of a bygone era his
Shod feet are the sounds of tingling magic in the quiet darkness the trees are the harbor
And under the umbrella of magnolia and the stately Oak with the listless Spanish moss
Flows outward with the planted Jasmine along the boulevard the trance is complete and
This is where the mind carriage has reached the heart there is a water fall made from tears
It always flows gently but when others suffer real pain there is a surge and the fall warms
And runs bitter pressure builds the soul changes from care free moods to dark heaviness
With the uninvited pangs and piercing these continue until the eventual problem resolves
The important link has been made a connection to creative power the chamber of the
Heart starts to suggest and reveal that you have opened the hidden resources the keys to
The different doors are raised with the words love caring hope joy understanding then the
Words start to flow empowering enlightened words literally flash the blood begins to
Flow faster breathing takes on the effect of strong wind laced with emotion driven by
Passion by now the carriage is at a fever pitch of white dazzling opulence where on entry
There were the real dark empty impoverished corners that now have undergone
Excavation no longer is the scene rife with the show of dwindling resources now the old
Has been cast asunder and all towers in triumph this all comes about because you decided
To set the sail of your soul toward the setting sun your desired haven but your ships
Charter says on and across all these waters I will always place myself in the service of
Others first and foremost what a fine garment you will wear supple and soft as purist
Lamb’s wool but the greatest will be the pictures with brightest blue representing the
Earthy sky that you worked under for others yellow gold that you were always first one of
The morning so none would go forth without your protective prayers and blessing the gray
Showing you were stalwart as the trees in your love and devotion to all you came in
Contact with the ebony that is pronounced is the marks of vigilance in the night watches
That you called their names before his divine assistance the green was for how expansive
And all the covering was like the green majority that is in nature it flows down from your
Shoulders to the floor faces in complete detail there is no other garment as glorious as this
It has been the defining moments of your life God will read it when you stand in His
Presence but the greatest color Is red this is the sacred sacrificial blood of the lamb that
Washes all impurities of evil away and restores to complete wholeness we know right
Fellowship and are fully restored as sons and daughters of holiness and so it will be
Forever

This writing was initiated by my friend 19 this was my futile attempt to capture the real and the state of mind and what a state of mind it is when the writing table is transformed into a fount of wonder that I alluded to in the piece mind and heart in total accord



----------------------------------------------------------------­----------------
JR Rhine Jan 2017
i dream of you i dream with you,
following the musings of the aching poet
blathering hyperbolic verbiage
into subconsciousness
where we leave entwined mortal bodies
for the impalpable enclave
we have created.

i dream of you i dream with you,
in sleep our minds meld
over aching bodies
and lift our spirits
to the ethereal nether-realm,
where we roam
for eons
sauntering through the fields
of ecstasy.  

i dream of you i dream with you,
where the groans of the spirit
and its insatiable yearnings
find solace in the vastness
of the tangent universe,
existing outside our mortal guise,
alluded in our mind’s eye—
it’s heaven
built by you and i.

i dream of you i dream with you,*
in lucid dreams
where we know we are asleep,
but we just laugh whilst
walking through the gates of eternity
flourishing in the eternal splendor
we have created.
karin naude Jan 2014
leave me
to precious illusions
moments of bliss
love imaged
momentarily eases the thirst
the dreaded melancholy

until

i am awaken

re-remembering the gnawing thirst
even at busy intervals
never a stranger
how i wish providence to come
and quite me of melancholy
impatient i am
resentful, for unwanted experience
that lacerated deep
weak and regretful
but always interchangeable
never constant
she has alluded me in youth
i wonder
in age
have i
atoned enough
will she finally find me worthy
uncertain of my fate
i drift
Randy Lee Apr 2016
Say what I say and mean what I mean this stream of consciousness thing is quite a release and I know it's not a diary but it's fun to let others spy on me even if only one or two or three will ever see what I'm writing it's still exciting to be open and share because I was closed off from people for the majority of my life and it had to do with self-esteem but now that I don't care what others may think this whole experience is quite liberating so let me become even more  openly free and dare to share something that has been bothering me and that is the fact that so many asshats have mocked and teased and called me gay or alluded to it by what they say and it's been happening my whole life and even in this rehab stay the homophobia is in play and yes I'm effeminate in so many ways but here's the real secret, oh my gosh, I'm not gay! but part of me wants to just pretend that I am to make it uncomfortable but it wouldn't be fair of me because I'm comfortable in my sexuality and that would be retaliatory and just as inflammatory but beyond all of that I really don't get it why people are so upset about how others do hit it can't we just live and let live why do we label each other by whatever preference that we discover to help us feel closer to love because isn't that what human beings are wired  to do so come on I implore you all who are stuck in your hatred to tell a coworker about who you thought of the last time you masturbated and then I'll ask you again if it's any of your business
betterdays Jun 2014
when the world,
was much younger
and i was a stupid-crazy
girl-ly-chick, enamoured
with her youth.

i drove, a sunshine,
lemon, yellow bottomed, white pith on top combi van. coyly, cloyingly named Mello Martha.

it was...surfboards and swimsuits,
egg and bacon sangers,
early morning breezes,
after a blitz at the breadbox.

before... changing into
the structured, tortured baby, bank teller blues,
in the back,doors left open.

it was... rockin, knockin,
***, on credit,
to a promised future,
alluded to, but postponed,
for the moment.

it was... bruised back and
grazed knees,
harder, deeper oh god!
oh god! please... faster, fucken frenzies,
on a saturday night.

it was....running away to nowhere,
to find myself,
then finding me,
running away from,
the self i didn't want to know.
noway, nowhere, nohow.

it was... a barrel of monkeys, a barrel of laughs,
a keg of beer,
a box of wine,
under the crowded stars.

it was.... a roadtrip,
up the coast,
midnight bonfire,
midnight munchies,
playing hunches,
exploring reefs and reefers and such.

it was...far from family
and church rules,
a friendly rebellion,
of loud, proud youth.
totally and brazenly,
uncouth
it was... wham! and m.j.
cindy and boy george's culture club ,paperlace,
billy idol and the beach boys.
sung with abandon,
at spinal tap level eleven.

it was... peaceful, quiet, sleeping grace.
insanely in love with...
i forgot his name.

it was.... the birth of bodaciously me.
all brass hair and bosoms,
wild and carefree.

it was ....so long ago,

it was... yesterday night,

when i saw... Mello Martha's identical twin,
stopped at a traffic light.
it was... sunshine and lemon, bitter and sweet,
as she sailed off, down the street.
i sat and watched,
wist, full of recollect,
far and away, from my presently minded place...
sitting in, the driver's seat,
of my mom-blue subaru.
Joshua Haines Apr 2016
The darkest fields, an interlude
to parallel sparkling, suspended
watching eye upon vermilion sky --
like a harbored god pretended.

Killing trees, roots eating deep,
my father mercilessly alluded:
branches high and branches wide
found the sky and intruded.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2018
This costs you attention you may owe elsewhere. FYI

Thursday, November 01, 2018
9:42 AM

this is our choosing.
we the subjects, the agents of our own intents,

patients, please, await the signal.

Box up your Bohring atoms collected in 7th grade,
wit' yer stamps, n coins n cards n ****
(tha's WA tag, ovahdtoppinallahthishit- -suprimpost)

step out to the fuzzy edge of reality and look

to and fro, go on, imagine the universe a bubble,
along the line of Heisenberg's electron vision
super positioned in that box
with Schrodinger's cat

thus the fuzzy edge, eh?
Close up. neutronic axiomatic close
up
can't say
pre-cise-d-ly ex-zact-ed-ly when
the other  side begins?

Are we aware?
Who won the war?

The game?

No, the war, who won the war?

Why.

Because I need to know, I think, to choose?

Why won. How and what and when and where and all the con
tenders considered,
did not win. They wrote books, but they did not win.

Let me learn a story and my children will hear it right,
from me to them. That's relative-if-it-ication,
there are better ways to say everything,
the story, per se, remains

pro-babble-ity demands equal opportunity with
equal hope of out come,
in valence
in balance (vaca, baca, tomata tomoughta)

Value balance at the fuzzy edge of your own bubble,
your bubble of known knowns (beliefs are in this set),
man on a wire, bird on a wire,

Occham cut my throat, if you fall, trust me, I'll pay.

Choosing Illuminated or Illuminati or mere-r-ly free,
let us pro-ceed,

past conspiracies are now no more than stories being told
as they were told
before the recent war

reconstructed realities arose from the dead on both sides,

whose side is the watcher on?
who accused him. Why, no, how. How accuses the seer,
why ex-amines the seen scene sensuous mystery
field of NULL.

My God. Imagine NULL, my God did that. Can your god
imagine that?

Mebbeso, mebbeeno, gottacogitate, whaithere.

If we agree that we, as in
We have to be a moral people, means:

we, you and me, reader writer sayer hearer or
whatever
concept of us as an inseparable dichotomy with
sum zero field anomaly twixt us
spooky
at a distance, Middler, not Einstein,
last big hit, remember

At a distance,
the edge of everything seems
sharper than any two-edged sword
you ever imagined.
Here,
Higgs-close, where any thing can matter,
at a whim,

Be still.

Still works.
You now new know you knew

right and wrong exist in good,
wrong alone exists in evil, which

In this story, from a winner POV,
is NULL ift, no chance, ever.

To be continued… another line, or two per
haps.
Haps we have made too clear, mortals see right
through them.
While that is good, in balancing things,
we have tremes ex isting in many minds at once,
what's
to be?
Hap, solidifed, happenstance, sistere, give the word.

Done. You recall, it is finished, the alluded to quote,
the bid accepted,
the olde deluder protested,
you recall, who will go?,

I'll go, there was a rhythm in the keys akey aqui a
letter must belong in a word to mean athing, eh?

Waddabou'soun'? say eh letter or more, a vibe

like say aaaaaaah at the doctor looking down my throat,
oughtayasee?

Nuthintall.
Later, ya'll, dream a little dream Ferme

---this did not end there it begsan ah
so
In the beginning all things began,
It's just that simple,

said the side named right by itself, and, odd-at-first-seeming, by
its op positon, but not by down or charm or weird or the un committed
on foreign assign meant un trans late able here

A super positioned time paradox on the part of the mortals involved here.
that explains this.
clear if I see it as you see simple is a poor substitute for sublime,
if I may have said so myselved several times over.

Hello Poetry, this is the signal.
Let patience have her perfect work. The fun'sbegun.
Getting a Christmas feeling. Thinking JOY TO THE WORLD. what would that be like, if it were up to me. We could form a party, may make a thing out of JOY TO THE WORLD ENEMIES DON"T MATTER ANY MORE-- a musing thought, join me.
Simran Modhera Mar 2021
I saunter parallel to these pews,
dragging my fraying fingers along the tops.
Reaching for a wooden comfort, but
instead I’m pricked.
I shake the splinter and splutter the blood off.
Wearing my head high, I finish my descent
up the holy steps.
My mother stands,
stuck
looking past me and out the stained window,
letting it strike her into a silhouette.
The priest exclaims
New Beginnings!
My mother
matches his declaration two seconds too late.
My dad nods his head,
the final vote of the jury locked in.

With guilt and god on my side,
I take the holy plunge.
My head falls in,
harshly.
I’m aching for a numinous experience,
only to suffocate from the darkness
that comes with this reality
I will breathe into.
My head may be under the aquatic illusion of renewal
but my feet stay planted on the
fractured  ground.

I am forced to look past the daze of illusion.
Because in the light
I can clearly see the greys left in our destruction.
I look back and my finger has bled
all over the back of this dress.
New Beginnings!
I exclaim,
with a red stain grained into my backside,
but an empty canvas in the front.

With my hair slicked back I hear a
mumble.
You look just like your mother,
And maybe I do
hold her eyes
but I can see
what she can not.
The graying dreams that my parents are dis alluded to.
Their skeletons in the attic or the
boxes of dresses in the basement,
even though today I wear one.
I will look at the destruction created behind us
and not walk with them.

Because in this holy light
her eyes bask and only look
chocolate at its best.
And in this dim shadow
mine shine like amber honey.
This poem is dedicated the Maya ****** and her work "christening dresses".
Jett Harris Feb 2016
Not too long ago but the wisdom still alluded me
And not be Frank, I was never one for the Ocean and sand.
So the salt in my lungs, your gaze into my eyes was new to me.
Scared but not enough to tell you, I took your hand.

(The waves felt good on my coarse skin.)

No TVs there, it was Remote.
The locals wagered on a pair of dice.
Coladas with two cubes a pair of ice.
I was living in, and you are my Paradise.
Everything I wanted and more, but still not willing to sacrifice

(I rebel, I rebel)

All that was asked was reciprocation.
She said” Boy just say my name, that’s all I want”
“ Show me joules. Life, Love, and Dedication.”
Told her “ stop trippin” She said ”why you front?”

(Time Passed)

All that was asked was reciprocation.
But society’s serpent wouldn’t let me. ( Boys aren’t supposed to feel)
Eve’s whisper led me to condemnation. ( No room for my pride)
Wiped the Salt water from my eyes “Just don’t forget me.” ( she apathetically pointed at the door)

The rain fell

… I’ll never forget raindrops I felt, that night I plead with you
Same raindrops I felt that first night that I kissed you.
And I cannot lie and say that I don’t miss you.
…That I don’t miss my paradise.

But – sometimes stories don’t end the way you want’m to right?

(Lost Happiness, Lingering Pain)

I miss you

Right hand to god, Left hand holding the remains of my heart.
My own spin on Adam and Eve
Adam - the protaganist
Eve- his pride
Serpent- society
deadly sin- not showing his love for paradise( the place and girl)
joules/jewels is a double entendre
Tess Calogaras Mar 2017
Words like water,
oh how the speech can delay.
Dripping eloquent but lost to rivers,
indulged in deluge,
overwhelmed in expression, comments and decree.
I want you here,
oceans away.

How can I touch the chatter,
be diluted in a voice.
Move me with your extract,
alluded, trembling from afar.
Waking up to different sides of the moon
I need you here,
sunshines away.

and the blades from petals still stabbed
like it was torture
though it crumbled in effect
why the trouble for pistol flowers
when aching is within a splinter.

Something so beautiful,
lost to an operating system.
Quiet rumbles, not big enough
to make a sound.
Even if I screamed,
my vocals typed to characters,
you would not,
could not hear my strain.

Efflorescence,
our love it blooms.
Flourished in email, video plays, stills.
Across the ocean I came,
to wake up in the sunshine,
with the moon at our side.

Sprouting up new love,
greater than we thought equip.
Even through storms, snow, rain,
I am ecstatic here,
your body I call my house,
your smile I call my home.
Copyright Tessa Calogaras
2017
JR Rhine Dec 2015
For Aleš, who reads pacifist novels during wartime

I

For the Millennials:
Victims of opportunity,
Saviors of humanity.

Muse-less, useless, a twentynothing!

We, the Confounded Chiliads,
are the electrified pulsating
offspring of the digital age:
Serendipitous,
enigmatic
vagabonds of the modern world.

Standing juxtaposed between
two centuries,
two generations:
Redeemers of the new millennium.

We’ve read the writings on the wall,
for they have been by our own hand.
Blood dripping down the fluorescent page,
the endless scroll that consumes our gaze.

Gaping holes in our hands and feet,
screaming telephone poles pin us to the magnetic current.

We are trapped but we are not alone.

With every word we bleed,
with every eye to our flesh,
our cries are drowned in the digital void.

We have been washed away by alluded idiosyncrasies,
never unanimous nor harmonious;
feeling our fingers tie into knots,
mangled, finagled, wringing, hovering like a
Ouija board over menacing letters.

We close our eyes and feel them
burning within our skull.

So many voices, so many bodies,
pouring into our thoughts;
endless rainfall
drowning the long coveted silence.

So desperate for the parting
of ***** storm clouds,

for a sign from heaven
to pierce through the ceaseless night,

to cast its lovely gaze upon us
like a father’s warm and gentle hand,
lifting up downcast faces.

We toil in our anguish,
suffering information overload;
a whole race of individuals
accumulating into a massive “I told you so.”

Every wish, every genius mind,
every glance into the future,
every crystal ball rubbed,
Electric Eye awakened

as the dream sighs into existence;
the blending of fact and fiction
in the prophesies of Fathers Orwell and Huxley:
maddened forlorn oracles of modernity.

As we cross the rivers of Babylon
to find ourselves swimming in
the Fountain of Youth
we escape dripping, exhausted;
aching bodies shivering.
They drape expensive towels around us,
breathing warmly on our exasperated shells
of humanity.

Our mortal vessels no longer capable of
carrying our fragile identities,
we leap out of their torpid mouths
exposing the gelatinous crustacean.

Amorphous brain matter
sponge-like, soaking up
the sweat of our plunder and plight—
Clinging desperately as our liberators

pry us off the wet earth
like barnacles off a ship’s keel,
wringing us out
over the supper bowl:
the thin soup of mortal consciousness.

Feeling our voices and vices,
virtues and virulence,
mingling together;
meshing into one.

The hive mind descends upon us,
protruding a gaping straw
from its abdominous being;
sticking it into the electric ocean,
proceeds to **** life up into its
wrinkly, sickly tightened mouth.

Past the gleeful tongue,
down the throat;
tumbling over each other aimlessly
in the darkness—
limitless potentialities.

Directionless;
ambiguous
voices in the dark:
cavernous, mindless cacophony.

Echoes bouncing off
the windows of my soul,
I tumbled into the darkness
lost, and afraid.

“The world is yours!”

I never feel my feet stop moving.

Our nightmarish episode of consumption concludes,
leaving us moaning, naked, confused in the depths:
Haunting spirits wandering these novel dwellings
built on the backs of the olden brutes
and the barbarous archetypic minds of the Marxist prophets.

In this world of post-civilization,
we are post-human(e) in our efforts;
unable to gain a foothold in the foundation—
more quicksand than earth and stone.

Our seeds were thrown to the weeds and the crows.

II

Muse-less, useless, a twentynothing!

I glance at the others: gangly gangrenous guiles!
Feasting on each other, never growing any stronger;
clawing out each other’s eyes, spitting in their mouths,
screaming utterances most foul in their ears.
Climbing over each other in the obscurity, unseen.  

I want them to take my eyes.
I want them to take my ears.
I want them to take my voice.
I want them to squelch the flame
that burns within my cadaverous chest.

Surrendering any chance of agency;
if there were hands to bite,
I couldn’t see.
I hear the voices shouting,
but I can’t cut through the discord.

What if I hold my breath?
But I know that won’t last.
Feeling my lips turn purple,
the kick drum in my chest:

furious relentless crescendo
pace quickening mind’s racing
all the sins in the world
rotting in my soul inescapable
pounding at the door
clock ticking through the floor
lungs shrivel can’t take anymore—

Exhale.

Panting, hands on my knees,
ears perk up to the sound of malicious snickering.
I lift my gaze up to an eclipse of the moon,
so ghastly in fresh blemishes plaguing its majesty.

Squinting,
I see smiling faces,
eyes full of mocking laughter,
belonging to snide children
anxiously peering into the crowded fishbowl.

They watch us squirm without water,
dancing in aching bodies,
craving the touch of something cool,
and refreshing.

They dangle hope and promise like
lifeless puppets encircling
an infant’s crib.

I watch them tie onto simple strings:
wealth, and
power, and
love, and
belonging.

Reaching higher, and higher,
straining formless muscles,
feeling weakness overcome
creeping up like a tired conscience
climbing over the golden crest
atop the transparent foothills
encased in the nicotine screen skyline.

It hangs its head low
on its hands and knees,
lifting up a weary voice
so familiar and ignored.

A final sigh ringing in the ears of a generation:
A cough, and then a final weak sputter:
“I Told You So.”

III

Muse-less, useless, a twentynothing!

Anchored to the next big thing
sitting below deceptive still waters
murky mysterious
loathesome beast
peeking an eye out to catch us peering
over the edge of the docks
a glimpse at the promised eternity
immortality
delusion of grandeur
our eyes to the shore
nostalgia preserved
in the retellings of folklore
childhoods never forgotten
for fear of being lost in the present
and the forthcoming future
always a step away
how can we move on
when we’re busy cutting off our legs
to be eye level with our inner child
more like an exoskeleton
more exposed than our need
to grow
we sit huddled in our bemired despair
grinning sheepishly exposing our sin
crying out to the gargantuan
overlord of childlike fantasy
wielding our innocence
like a button-eyed ragdoll gluttonous treasure keeper
playing with fire in the alchemist’s den
so close to our material wealth
with the flames roaring lapping at our heels
feeling the dock begin to break from dry land
from the weight of our inflated consciences/consciousness
following the fangs of the snake to our parents
on the shore
with one hand sweating on the television remote
strangling in its grasp
they have no choice
but to squeeze the pump
harder and faster
legs of flesh and bone
break and give way
we begin to drift from the shore
pulling closer to the murky behemoth
that lurks under the perpetual offing
in the empty horizon we cry our broken hearts
into its cosmic bowels
feeling ourselves being sifted through
the hungry machinery of death
eyes luminous we shield our faces
from its rapturous gaze
fearful of the pillar of salt
that will stand in our place
but we look back
we take our hand off the plow
with ***** and Gomorrah at our backs
we peer through the electric eye
the sands of time
pouring through the hourglass
that spits us into the depths
of eternal strife.

IV

Muse-less, useless, a twentynothing!
Twentynothing!
Twentynothing!
Twentynothing!

Tw­entynothing in the classrooms!
Twentynothing in the workforce!
Twentynothing in the bathrooms!
Twentynothing in our parents' wars!

Twentynothing in the golden streets!
Twentynothing in the broken homes!
Twentynothing in the dusty libraries!
Twentynothing in the TV's drone!

Twentynothing in the Promised Land!
Twentynothing in the songs we sing!
Twentynothing in the secret plans!
Twentynothing in freedom ring!

Twentynothing in hands over hearts!
Twentynothing in our love in bed!
Twentynothing in the obscure route’s start!
Twentynothing in the lies we've read!

Twentynothing in the lives we fear!
Twentynothing in the scholar’s debt!
Twentynothing in our guns held dear!
Twentynothing in the tables set!

Twentynothing in the colors of skin!
Twentynothing in the reality show!
Twentynothing in the losses and win!
Twentynothing in the nightmares below!

Twentynothing in the kisses we hide!
Twentynothing in the I O U’s!
Twentynothing in the chanting of pride!
Twentynothing in the love you too’s!

Twentynothing in the hope we give!
Twentynothing in the dread they moan!
Twentynothing in the time we live!
Twentynothing in the chance we own!

Muse-less, useless, Twentynothing!

In the post-modern world aimless!

We, the Confounded Chiliads:
We are dangerous,
We are longing,
We are hopeful,
We are broken,
We are serendipitous—
We are eternal.

We Are Twentynothing.

…and that’s **** well something.
Written in Ginsberg's shadow.
Ken Pepiton May 2022
An unwanted child.
Dead in a rush of shameless rage.
A never wanted child, live global exit. Boom.

A child with no hope of winning life's lottery.

Not one of the slain is now such, each is a ticket
to horrible fame and blame and shame,
and maybe more money that the slain child could have
ever earned, I know,
small towns in Texas breed unwanted babies
each Prom Night.
Unwanted babies grow
to become unwanted children,
reared by grandma who had not wanted ma,
that prior Prom Night, previous to a wasted life.
- No facts, pure manure conjecture, due to pregnant anger,

poor and weak, the master religious class enforces
rights to horrible, unlivable lives …
- bear that child or face the wrath of Texas, a breeding
that looses the lesser angels crying worthy worthy worthy,
see, makes 'em mean, ready to ****
- but you gotta enlist 'em young... get the feel of that gun...
but some fall through the cracks... good for nothing,
wash outs -- Watch OUT- some mad losers feel cheated,
thinking not fair,
I never had a chance,
but in the end, you all know I was here.

Once, see me horribly big, as a monstor of the rule,
life must be lived,
breathe and become
useful, but first survive full myelination, and
- 25 years
that takes adult super-vision, for a kid,
some how, some seem to
learn to love, without the experience, maybe
see it done on Sesame Street,
you'll get it, unless

nobody ever led you to associate yourself and Kermit/
- not easy being any thing ungood for something.
- dyslexia can ****, any shame on a child can,
if it is culturally nourished on rights to hate,
and hurt, at will.

Shame on you, America, for not caring,
with deep parental love,
for accidents of ignorant lust alluded to as common,
on TV... ****** right to ignor ovulational cycles.

-Secrets for the weddin' night, right, Grandma?

Ask the shooter's Grandma, should this child have been yours
to rear in the ways of productiveness?

An unwanted child.

Not one of the slain is now such, each is a ticket
to horrible fame and blame and shame,
and maybe more money than
the slain child could have
ever earned,
before the sudden shut down;

as unwanted babies grow to become unwanted children
reared by grandma who had not wanted ma,
-- right to whose life?
Renters, in an owned world,
poor and weak, the master religious class enforces
rights to horrible, unlivable lives …

such as loose the lesser angels crying worthy worthy worthy,
see me, see me die,
once, see me horribly big as a monstor of the rule,
life must be lived,
breathe and become
useful, but first survive full myelination, and
- yeah, at least 25 years
that takes kind minded adult super-vision, for a kid,
though sometimes that may be a teacher, it is rare,
a book can act the parent, for an early reader,
some how,
some seem to
learn to love, without the experience, maybe
reading is using science convincing me I think,
I can imagine, being loved for growing, I
see it done on Sesame Street, I think,
you'll get it, unless

nobody ever led you to associate yourself and Kermit/
- fingerprints prove you were born,
- those do not extablish value.

Shame on you, America, for not caring, with deep parental love,
for accidents of ignorant lust alluded to as common,
on TV.

Ask the shooter's Grandma, should this child have been yours
to rear in the ways of productiveness?

--  15 close range handgun kills,
I can only imagine, and hate myself/ I know, I can see --
To earn a One Shot, One **** medal
in Call of Duty: Mobile, you need
to **** an enemy with one shot in Multiplayer mode.
To complete this task easily, players can use weapons
with the highest damage rate, like snipers and shotguns.
Also, while taking the shot, make sure to aim for the enemy’s head
to give the maximum damage.
Players can earn One Shot, One **** medal as many times
as they want by completing the aforementioned task.

From <https://doublexp.com/guides/how-to-earn-one-shot-one-****-medal-in-call-of-duty-mobile>
Because I can, only fact I know, little kids are dead, and it seems a grandparent reared labor class child killed them, with accuracy uncanny in reality, conspire to achieve
Nat Lipstadt May 2014
Time to Get Serious: In the Poet's Nook
Originally posted here on
June 9th 2013

Yes it is verifiable, just as prior alluded to,
a few frayed and weathered Adirondack chairs,
wizened gray, like occupant, all seen better days,
overlooking the Peconic Bay,
where inspiration glazes over the water

Despite prodigious production o'er past weeks,
ditties, love laughing tributes, silliness aplenty,
these works of dishes washed, Paul Simon,
what to wear to your funeral, knuckle kissing, etcetera...
Though some contained soft shelled, mints of juleps hints,
little sundries, items for sale re suicidal thoughts,

no one takes-tales you serious

Be it tormented rain, intemperate gusts
whipping lashes of sand
excuses real, manufactured and yet,
despite opportunities always existed,
but you answered the question unasked,
you're unready, more likely, fearful.
to pen in the Inner Temple, in the nook.

In the nook, the poems float by, you need only extend arm and
grab them whole, ripened by the delivering breezes,
If you unmask pretense, and wear a seat belt

But here I am, and the welcome I receive is the one
deserved, for one who has joined the ranks of deniers

Favorable prevailing breezes service the sailboats pleasantly,
turn surly and unmanageable from neglect and disuse poetically,
they mock this coward, taunting:

We have waited, fall and spring, for you, our sacrificial lamb.
Your return we smelled, the odor of barbecue and suntan oil,
We observed your beach touring, your eyes upon the moonlight
Highflying, highlighting the path you follow when walking upon the
Water when nobody knows, nobody sees

You scarce provided the deep reveal that is our woeful provenance,
So, having returned, unleash or leave,  expose your La Mancha countenance,
Fulfill your daddy's curse,#
Portray the siren shriek of our gulls insistent,
the blood cold words, as of now, yet unfastened, un-cast,
the forge lit and fired,
Are you ready, self-appointed, poetry smithy, wright-man?%

On knees bent you should have approached,
For the inspiration, years rendered, unpaid, and unacknowledged
But most of all because of these interlopers attached to you,
So many children, green shoots, babes visiting the bay,
New friends hoisted upon us without permission!

Do they understand despite the solemn serenity
of the place you attend,
This is the observatory
where the stars and scars,
undiscovered and unexposed,
become our property to carry-cross the ocean?

Do they comprehend that black is the only color permitted and the
sunshine coverlet is meant to keep the unmotivated, the uninitiated,
who think that writing poetry is easy,
unaware, and far away from us, the truth purveyors

Nothing produced from this place
where routine means the gorge tastes bile,
When surcease is welcome relief,
Where dancing on ice in bare feet
Is step one to ripping your chest open by your own hands,
The toxins thus released rejuvenated by salted air,
Can be finally be transcribed onto paper
And realized.

Warn them once and then begin, you,
Get serious, delve, with hurricane unambiguity,
to torrential words upon the unsuspecting,
let them taste the rawness, only the truth provides,
let them know salt tears so briney,
They will flee this place, n'er to return.


June 9th
2013
Late afternoon.
#What ya do for a living he asks,
A little of this and a little of that,
All of which, ain't no **** good at!
So I spend my cold, hard time
laying down cold hard verse,
Can't stop, cause it's my daddy's dying curse
So sick of living like this.
Always in question of the truth in your eyes.
Blinded obsession.
I have become what I don't realize.

In your presence, I am now a ghost;
and alluded.
Facing this road to eternal damnation.
Still don't know which way I will go.

Memories,

Just a distant reminder.
Of a time when I did not remain so uncertain.
I H Σ
IHS HOMILIA

In the natural fatigue of everything created, the Duoverse presented its IHΣ, falling on the eighteenth letter of the Greek alphabet and on the duo hundred changes in physical memory. The PH (Hexagonal Primogenitor), is conceived in the presence of the Chrismon, but Hellenic with the Vexillum banner, to rescind the fatigued and depressed winds, since the quantum of memory was lost in its integrity of aerophobic to the earth, and therefore the subsequent one would be air-water, being for this reason, preceded the ceremonial that begins by stripping before the abenuz Diospyros, with its stamens usually in sixteen plus its hypogines or inserts at the base of the corolla; like those of the female flowers, being part of the gynoecium of the Tsambikas part, and of the androecium that will have to be of the Diospyros in Theoskepasti; with ovaries generally tetra ocular adapted, to be inseminated for the raids of the demigods of the Horcondising and El Duoverso, with the monogram HDD (Horcondising-Duoverso), for those who trace the bifurcations with Zefián; chaos computer, all the way to modulated Theoskepasti. Making the changes that have to be reborn in the stamen, being almost sterile, aborting in the memories of Galilee, signifying the pollination performance of the Diospyros and sprouting in the same stem of the whorl, even more in each hand of stigmatized Vernarth and Etréstles , bearing the IHS candles, the monogram and the Mandylion-Vas Auric, as a sign of the Olives Bern. Before the seams of the carved heels are erected and the one of the gutters of the annelids going up through the alabaster, to the chalice with the chrismon hat.

Filling the warehouse of Anemoi himself, and forgetting his deposit of the empyrean breath on the synaptic abbreviations, the argument of Saint John the Apostle continues in the network of Rhodes and Kímolos, for the cortex of the sensory past and the consequence of the gusts of falls by the trisomies, affecting to be regenerated on the oxygen-nitrogenous bases, from the activation of nemo-genetics, to specify the loss and egregious gain of channeling between the Cyclades and the Dodecanese. Carrying memories of Vernarth's cerebellum stuck and not trembling towards the lake of the hippocampus, where the Zoroaster carried the Magi, at the end of the span and first-last border in the vicinity of Ein Karem. On the evolutionary scale the weak air masses fluctuated, in the flood of the Meltemi over the Aegean, taking them to the bay of Dekas, on the knees of the colossus that impregnated with its fennels so that some delirium could replace its articulation. Remaining like this, on a scale of emptiness reminiscent and tacit ..., it continues to be and not, occupying itself and not, but it does rise towards the colossus from the ground of Vernarth, which had split bipartite from Rhodes to kímolos, like Verthian neuroscience, whose prose they emanate submissive glaciers of Intuitive Hypermeditation (as a technique of knowledge and meditation, for functional links of inspiration, purgative insight and yogic memory). All the nonsense is alluded to, breaking the rationality of the Vas Auric ceremonial, in its phenomenology, making curvilinear pauses to re-captivate phraseological keys, diminished in condensed memories equivalent to approximately ten terabytes, from a homologous half, almost surrendering when exhausted before both scholars and their debts exchanged when driving ..., thus recovering wave dips before reaching the bay of Dekas, Kímolos and ending in the necropolis of Hellenika ..., and vice versa before re-climbing in the middle of Mandraki, Archangelos and Filerimos, to finish in Tsambika, Rhodes.  As a parallel response to the archpriest of not altering the  IHS homily monogram, and of the association in remembrance, which may affect the conduction of the mediumistic trance, almost prostrating him in the house of forgetfulness and frenzy, if he is to recover not stabilized. The sulfurous and mercurous component of Cinnabar proceeded by acidifying the essences of Vas Auric, already prospering in the hands of each auric conductor ..., Archpriest and Saint John the Apostle, each with the sulfur from the mountain and the arc of the Aegean Sea, as genesis volcanic for its diametrals towards a change of chemical prisms, to the multi-angle of the topaz that Saint John the Apostle wore in his air, close to the reliquary, hanging from some fringes of the Vexillum, that he had arranged near the Vernarth. Immediately on the banks of the monastery, Raeder was walking with a lantern looking for those who might try to enter, he believed that it was his father from Kalymnos, the ones who came on another mission, to be carried away by the energizing power of cinnabar, more than a breath for those who observe by the quarters, stationed in the sandy areas of Rodas.  Petrobus, the pelican…, circled around the heights of the monastery, delimiting the laxity of his body's memory, in prayers in case they ventured through Kalimnos for a good portent, in waters for the tenth seeds for all the Rodines.

From the monastery with one of its necessary dependencies, all were with exacerbated white candles between the steps of each cell and their attached friars, they made a room of the nave near the church on the hexagonal floor, this being screened through the center of the garden where everything was dominated by the limits of the alabaster arches, which only now pointed to the closet of the books, this time being fed up and sparing their voices with devotion. Chapter by chapter it expired ..., for each cell, identifying each portion of the world in creation to the scriptorium and the refectory, where in this ceremony books were swallowed for the infinite world of the Duoverso, near the parlor, to do the times when He was teaching Saint George and the Dragon, vinegar the presses for the wine of the missal. Even so, Eurydice, organized the fragrances of the cells and intermediations of the southern called in the voices of Proserpina, coming dressed in proclaimed black, but with the appearance of Persephone in reality wedged into her face as a goddess woman, but with a hemiplegic collapse.

Sequence shot at Kímolos, Panagia Theoskepasti

Etréstles says: “according to what has been said in this dimension, the word will be the world of the Duoverso. Synchronously, it lined up with the monastery in Tsambika, by the third hour after noon, reflecting off the undisclosed walls of the chapel. On if,  in the radiosities of cinnabar. Thus entering electromagnetic lassitude through the trusses of the pulpit anchored in the Vox of the mystical vortex, towards those who entered and left thousands of times through the counter shutters of the chapel, colliding and colliding many times, until by the iridescent Cinnabar, somewhat Sulfur rial, mixed with the radiosities of some novae, which also acted as a decoy of the chrismon, which Kanti carried the steed adjusted in the saddle on his back, as a mount of syntactic esotericism, speaking of intangible brown colors of cinnabar, almost human. I know that the scrolls will write themselves, and that no word will have to be written or pressed by a mortal who protects it, the Diospyros, will exert anticipated redemption from the imbalance of the proximity of the Universe that slowly fell on Greece, while in the hegemony of the abenuz, everything looked with its graceful synchronous stamens that were usually sixteen, plus its hypogines or inserts at the base of the corolla; that attracted the essences of the Androecium with ovaries generally tetra ocular adapted, but according to the word Ebreh Ke Dabra, for those who carry it under a state of extended ******* and under a possession of psychopathies, to delegate them in non-demonized existences, if not emerging from the syntax of the verb, close to the intellect that works for the grace of the subsequent. In this way, all demonization would remain in the distractions of the annelids, who travel the coast of Kimolos, from Dekas to Hellenika, where they will finish the alternation of the gifts of the Vas Auric, teleporting in the vessels; or vehicles rolled to the chapel, to later be forwarded to the necropolis.

At three o'clock, after midnight in its antipode of noon, the psalms will shield with the wings of Petrobus all the government of Theoskepasti, and with its golden, feathers ..., and the heraldry of Vernarth with its Aspis Koilé, lavishing it in those of Saint John the Apostle, in the Shaddai that acts as a temple, towards the lower funnel of the Hetairoi, confined to the elect devotion of being protected towards the gates of the Savior, in lands of sand removed over the naked and reddish bodies of Archangelos and of Psathi with mega gallons of papyrus, falling like the blooming chrysalis of Diospyros on the litanies of the archpriest, who was interrupted in his syntactic diction, when permeating the sequence shot Cyclades-Dodecanese, Tsambika-Theoskepasti, Anemoi-Meltemi, Vernarth- Etréstles , low the Vexillum or mercenary banner of the Peltasts that in legions gathered to assist together with Vernarth in both chapels for the chalices of the fish that welcomes the dead in battles and takes him from his nets and enables him with his gills…; "Tel Gomel, Gaugamela and the Gordian knot in the hands of Saint George and the Dragon"

In the aftermath of the memory loss of Vernarth's body, he already had his chest full of Cyclops, St. George appearing to venerate his litany and wide pain, common to the one who, even in that state, can sustain the world like Atlas, but like Epimetheus of afterthought. Being triumphant in his imaginography, appearing with the snowy horse, in total synchronization at the moment in which he is seen appreciating Etréstles, on the bulbous clouds that enveloped the chapel, and haughty and shrewd the knight Saint George of Anatolia, Roman and Christian was seen . With his mother; Polychrome, having already been trained here in the town of his mother's origin, in Lydda, he was trained as a military tribune knight, and was later appointed as a Diocesan personal guard.
Vexillum
93

Went up a year this evening!
I recollect it well!
Amid no bells nor bravoes
The bystanders will tell!
Cheerful—as to the village—
Tranquil—as to repose—
Chastened—as to the Chapel
This humble Tourist rose!
Did not talk of returning!
Alluded to no time
When, were the gales propitious—
We might look for him!
Was grateful for the Roses
In life’s diverse bouquet—
Talked softly of new species
To pick another day;
Beguiling thus the wonder
The wondrous nearer drew—
Hands bustled at the moorings—
The crown respectful grew—
Ascended from our vision
To Countenances new!
A Difference—A Daisy—
Is all the rest I knew!
Olivia Mercado Jul 2013
I have never held a hand
I have never kissed anyone.
I have never gone on a date
Or hugged someone
Not because they were my friend
(Or an eccentric great-aunt)
But because I wanted to.

I'm not ugly (I'd like to think)
I'm old enough to drive
And read Edmund Spenser
And apply for college.
Is something wrong with me?

To never be invited to share the world
Of teenager's deepest hopes and dreams
Never know that absolute sorrow
Alluded to by others
Never know that thrilling joy
Of being wanted.

I am independent.
Pure.
Alone.
JR Rhine Feb 2016
Is a man
who acquiesces to love's embrace
ever sinless? (never a lamb)
always libidinous? (perpetually the wolf)  

I pondered this (stigmatic) question
as I entered the densely-wooded trail,
to seek my analogous answers
in the enchanting mystery of the naked forest--

Much as I had before,
seeking truth and solace in love's embrace;
tucked within her ample *****,
where I had once lain my head
gently flowing with the rise and fall
of her chest--

much like the advances and retreats
of aching waves on the beleaguered shore.

I traveled the woods, taking it all in--
as I, the woods,
and the woods, my love,
and the earth, my foundation,
and the sky:
My god.

I heard avian sprites dance in the thickets and brush,
scampering away from my intrusions.

These birds; be they so timid in my presence?
Or, in their sprite-like visage,
do they simply mirror such intrinsically motivated ambulations;
their impalpable purposes impervious to Man's prodding.  

I feel I seek their fleeting company in my mind's eye,
who wanders incessantly in its dreadful musings,
while my earthly senses
merely soak in what is to be seen.

And I see the naked overturned tree--
victim of the vitriolic hurricane's rages;
who lies ashamed before my queried glances,
silently panning from empty branches
protruding from a battered trunk,
down to her meandering roots--
who look meaningless in their desperate search
for earthly riches.

I almost feel guilty enough to cast my eyes from her sight--
and she is left to only rot in the foliage
that once entertained her life;

and her in turn having once contributed
to the beauty
I precede,

in the impending vernal equinox
alluded by the returning chansonettes
of those dainty birds--
who sing and dance among those branches sturdier than hers.

I felt her woes accumulating in her shameful exposure
to wicked love's throes and I wept alongside her.

(Pitiful, unspoken empathy.)

---

I finally make it to the overlook,
and the rugged solitary picnic table--
where I sit and gaze over the cove,
and the shore that lurks beneath
my commanding earthly footing.

Sighing at the merrymakers perched atop their aquatic vessels--
their cries and screams of elation reaching me,
like mocking phantoms lurking in the woods,
echoing off the hollow shells

(and I write this all with numbing fingers
and tearing eyes, blinking furiously
in frigid but calm winds never hiding their presence)
--

I see them, closer now as I make my way to the beach;
but how is it I am the one sinking,
when my feet are the ones planted firmly on the shore?

My shoe'd feet seep into the wet sand--
a dull orange, so lifeless and cold;

Infinitely malleable.

As I once was,

in love's embrace.

---

In the sand:
the lukewarm tracks of man and beast--
traveling side by side,
their destinations a mystery to me,
but their paths encapsulated in the gritty earth
where I once again sense the duality of my soul.

Man and beast imprinted in the malleable confines
of my innermost being, where
the ceaseless waves crash onto the shore
of my battered conscience,

and I feel sinking atop my muddy thoughts
the footprints of man and beast--
the biped and the quadruped--
stepping in tune to nature's melodies.

When I acquiesced to love,
man and beast did not step harmoniously
in the sand,
and the waves of lust crashed over my conscience
like the perfect storm.

In utter torment,
I shied from its ceaseless beatings,
but I foolishly dug my withering tendrils into the mutable sand,
and the wind's booming voice furiously knocked me onto my back--

and though her advancing body had suddenly lain atop mine,
with kisses like icy daggers and eyes like amorphous storm clouds--
her words and my conscience
lay heavier on me still;

On the shore,
and in the woods:
Where I lay naked and exposed,
where I lay shameful and remorseful,
where I lay hopeless and tasteless,
where I lay to this day--

rotting in the foliage that once gave me life,
and I in turn,

beauty.
To men who have been sexually assaulted:
You are not alone.
And also, to women who have been sexually assaulted:
You are not alone.
My prayer is that in our shame and anguish we may still reach out to those who love us, because believe me; they are there.
You are dearly loved, child.
(This poem does not seek to elevate the atrocities of the ****** assaults of men above that of women, but merely to address the stigma that is seemingly associated with men being sexually assaulted.
As I know personally, it is a shameful experience that you feel is not true because you are a man and men love ***--so we are told--so therefore how could a man ever be sexually assaulted? My heart goes out to all victims of ****** assault.)
Paula Lee Jun 2014
I came down to the country
to commune with Nature for a while
to try to find myself again
hopefully find my lost smile

Got lost along the way somehow
suffering from so much pain
I hope on this hundred acres
I can find myself again

Dawn is just now breaking
the leaves rustling on the trees
a soft warm wind is blowing
I find myself start to ease

I 4 -wheel to the river
just to sit and watch it flow
letting it float my cares away
sending them off and away they go.

it's time to continue on my ride
trails are calling out "Come See"
while I ride i'm going to search
for the Peace that has alluded me.

I'll know the spot when I feel it
it will speak to my heart of Peace
and I'll reside there for a time
letting that Peace wash all over me!
I went to a Place Called THE ROCK and roamed a hundred acres.
No tv no computers and I found my Peace for a while.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2021
In my realm, any tale worth telling tells itself, backwards…
this is part three under reproof inspection,

we have tools some of us imagined,
perhaps with prodding from what prodded
Heinlein, his version of the Sixties, seen from his fifties;
differs in tech to stretch the realm of possible,

Artist's intuition that women's intuition was a thing
by 1961, the year of the twist,
if I recall Junior High, and who doesn't, eh, as seen on TV.

We were there.
There were those books, You were there at the battle for Bataan

We were there books, 36, a kind of boomer canon
in the southwest, some of us had grands who rode those trails.

But the one I imagine I remembered reading,
We were there at the battle for Bataan,

that can be imagined as a ghost from the cemetery
in Kingman, Arizona, on the actual road
alluded to in rites of passage,
all roads lead
from the middle of nowhere, there's no destination known.

Up on the point,
overlooking my green valley,
if I am an honest man, and I believe I am,
sharp as a tack,
tacky as a fly strip in a butcher shop,

sticky in that ai ai ai madja look gleam meme,
flash of white,
no light, brigh'ness reflected from raven's wings, sure
that is what Castaneda saw, no wu wu needed,

once the plant impresses your kindness,
adsorb absorb soak seep, sniff
wonder, if we may imagine
and we do not, we are as the being who may read and does not.
Or the reader who may write and wishes to be

known for the worth of the lines in threaded time through
changing times, drastic fantastic changes in time
thinking medium
thick syrupy, thicker, honey, honey, how could such excess be?

the proverb, pre installed, tic
Hast thou found honey?
Eat so much as is sufficient for thee.
see
prophecy saying the child shall shall, not will, shall
eat milk and honey until it can, not may, can
sense the fine-ness of the line
the veil, between useful for imaginary things,
how fine the film discerned, imagine that
scratched
with this
so fine a line, that nothing is a thought, with nullness
nought, not infinite, pre-
punctuality, never ceases to happen and now remains, ever.
A long, for many attention spans, thing start to here in three parts, all with seedy burrs itching to be carried away and eaten -well cooked, yes, imagine the good we could do, doing nothing

— The End —