the dream ain't over 'till the dreamer's awake.
and your sleep will keep the dream going, on and on,
in a silence made of rear view windows.

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RUDc1frz22E]

For Jamel Khashoggi
   The Eye of Allah.


                 (  *

Crescent moon asterisk
    at Saudi Consulate
       (convex retina)

Someone has defaced my library book.
Gone to the trouble of reading, pencil in hand,
ready should the opportunity arise again.
The graffiti is hilariously specific:
at every mention the author makes of England,
my fellow reader has added angry punctuation -
question marks, exclamation marks or,
at moments of presumed frustration,
simply scored the word through.
The book is by Kurt Vonnegut,
an American humanist
who would doubtless have sought to avoid such deep offense
but who would have had no earthly reason for imagining
that a Scot somewhere, years after his death,
would ignore the story,
the tragedy, the humour and the beauty in the prose
so fired up was he by his conviction
that Kurt should have written 'Britain' instead of 'England'.

You see,
proud Scots are often peeved
when the rest of the world pays as little attention to them
as they pay to the rest of the world.
So it goes.

Drinking a Guinness Extra, an empty gesture,
Beset truly by the words of Joyce,
I am sick of the turning from text
To annotation. I wish only to read
A text as it was meant,
With the knowledge not aside
But present already in my blasted skull

It's like the modern appreciation of Shakespeare
—At best an approximation. The words that were
Common, fallen out of usage.
The words then invented, now commonplace.

Thither and hither again I will look
Tracking the details
Researching the clever allusion
Trying not to miss & missing anon
what's right in front of me

                            D.B. Guy

Death devours all lovely things;
  Lesbia with her sparrow
Shares the darkness,—presently
  Every bed is narrow.

Unremembered as old rain
  Dries the sheer libation,
And the little petulant hand
  Is an annotation.

After all, my erstwhile dear,
  My no longer cherished,
Need we say it was not love,
  Now that love is perished?

Though her eyes are jeweled crystals,
She is the annotation of a valid *****.
Asinine men still don't envision,
She is the offspring of Satan.

Women see her true form,
Underneath that pallid, limp skin.
With lipstick as red as strawberries,
The masquerade is precisely blood from the virtue.

Animals snarl at her without awe,
Yet she's the carnivore.
Her black crinkling hair covers her coyness,
Only to ****** the prey in the hotel room at dusk.

Application of misinformation
Falsify a failed nation,
Eradication of all creation
Misinterpretation
Of representation
Deny the station
Granted by occupation
And the inhalation
Of justification
No prerequisite information
Just accumulation
No moderation,
Their determination
Through stimulation
Cultural *******
Communal degradation
Societal desecration,
Dehumanizing revocation,
Worldly humiliation,
Mortal sterilization
Never achieving mobilization
Lack of communication
Excelling in vile persuasion,
Proponents of procreation
Birthing digitization,
Destroy civilization,
Indications of adoration
Isolation in delineation,
Irrational indexation,
Fluctuating indignation,
No innovation,
Divination
Retaliation,
Immolation,
False ovation,
Lacking limitations,
Contextual intonation,
Divine fabrication,
Private publication,
Evolving fornication,
Give me extermination,
Notwithstanding annexation
Of dismaying oxidation,
Of valued perpetuation,
Global mass-castration,
Redundant rhetoric, dictation,
A donation, a dilation, a fixation,
An annotation of fibrillation,
We are personification
Of Contamination
Through globalization
Praising idolization
And finalization
Through *******,
No pragmatic exoneration,
In all frustration
We see not utilization
Nor stabilization,
Fearful implications
Of wayward stations,
Surplus mutilations,
Seeking militarization
Of worthless nations,
No conservation,
Just excavation
Of the population
******* on education,
Spitting on graduation,
No validation of aspiration,
Indoctrination of baptization
Mitigating litigation,
murdering habitation,
Quelling all vegetation
We will end in radiation
Through faulty navigation,
Abdication and abnegation,
All worldly agitation
Leads us to expiration,
Self-made annihilation.
There was never an end in sight,
We’re lost, and hope is a lie.

My patience is exasperated
So negative connotations
Are analytical advice, on a diagram of ******
for life as AnNotation

Used as emphatic confirmation
That my formations deformed,
so be warned, you won't be warmed
by hearing I've conformed

To be socially reborn or Reformed
no Solubility just scorn
Death of Altruism not reborn
My attempt to succeed is Forlorn

****** without pleasure like ****
With an actress who's *****
Unable to reject the amorous nature
Of the advancement taking place

Only to try to post placate
But u can't humorously play hate
That's like calling *******
a play date, and tho karma may take

Action a day late
It'll subtract your pay rate
And I try to listen when they say wait
Otherwise I Trade faith

For fortune so pray fate
Has Infallibility and acts
With revenge and intends to ignore
Its Sanctification on your behalf

But without assured Omniscience
Or Predestination I'm left
Wit bitter taste from various Mongrels
so nefarious I wish for death

Developing an Aversion to breath
A Discrepancy now remains
Some say lifes a gift and it contradicts
when I say it's inhumane

A reality based on haste purgatory
Where narcissists splurge on glory
And act like a real life purging story
living to fill their urge for gory

Temptations and never hoarding
Desires to control with moderations
like earths resource no Conservation
But this is just my Observation

Or maybe there's no correlation
and I just **** a curation
Maybe my pessimisms Pervasion
Has damaged me for the duration

Of life never to vacation
From my imprisoned state
So internally conflicted I'm eternally
Restricted to unsolicited hate

Sunset covered faces,
hearts dissolved into the color orange,
outside the window,
an eyeful of violet haze,
the gentian blue leaves crawling,
up the rhombic wind,
The evening sky was a book,
the clouds were the contents,
the wind a flowing annotation,
and the flying birds,
were mobile illustrations.

exasperated, emasculated,
So the negative connotations
From life's ******, molestation,
**** from this Annotation

emphatic, tragic confirmation
That my formations deformed,
so be warned, u won't be warmed                                                           ­                                                                by hearing I've conformed

To be socially Reformed
Reborn, no Solubility of scorn
No Altruism, so Imprisoned                                                       ­                                
is peace's vision, Forlorn

******, but pleasure like ****,
Isn't a focus, so like ****
I'm Unable to reject the amorous nature                                           
Of what will take place

But I fail as I try to placate
Or humorously play hate
But that's like calling *******
just an innocent play date

when we're ****** for pay day
Catching Freedom in an Infallible trap
Leaving memories, both enemies, and remedies,                                                        ­                                                     when flashing back

But without Omniscience, it seems
Only Predestination Is left
Wit bitter taste of self hate,accepting fate,                           
 now only death

can stop the new Aversion to breath
Causing a Discrepancy to remain
Some say lifes a gift to contradict
all i insist is inhumane

A reality based on haste, hate,
A purgatory Where narcissists
Prove that ignorance is bliss,
cuz happy Usually r ignorant as ****

Or maybe there's no correlation
and I just **** at curation
Maybe pessimisms Pervasion
Has damaged me for the duration

Of life never to vacation
From rigid Dichotomies like
Believing in prophets or profits
Or what's legal and wuts right

My world is a fire of ash and iron
Burning desire and ashen wishes
My ears bleed with the warning siren
As if a hammers kisses'

Punch me in the chest
Breaking threw my sternum
All my verses for her are my best
But the blazing hammer demands I burn them

Charcoal confetti showers us
More than rice ever will
Brand me with our plea of trust
Then to our trust must we ****

Let us vanquish this blaze
Douse our fire under water
Let's think of the many ways
Let it graduate us as its alma mater

Like good students let's learn our lesson
So we don't have to bring eachother pain
Let us look at eachother and count it a blessin
Leave behind our crimson stain

But sooner or later one of us will fall off the deep end
So if not bit by fire
To the deepest depths we descend
Stabbed by our beloved Rose's briar

Into the depths of accusations
We arrive at the same vocation
Needing proper annotation
For a change in our relation
Tune us to a different station
So we can leave this filthy crustacean
Let be heard the deceleration
I'm moving to a different nation
Call it a love vacation
I'm leaving this deformation
This demoralization
This incarnation
But wait

What about desperation
For jubilation
And my reclamation
Of a chance for replication
With Reformation
Maybe a salvation
For our situation
Maybe threw communication
We can fix this obliteration
Of our love

it's been one year of loving a girl who
has fallen on her knees for me and
who has raged like an electrical fire.
a girl who sits in the car alone and
sings for her own ears.
a girl who has been torn apart more times
than i've ever been kissed.
from the outside, it looks like loneliness;
just one girl in a coffee shop corner
who takes up one side of the bed.
but it's been a year of writing over
every annotation you left on the margins of my pages.
now i've finally gotten to the part where the slate is clean.
the part where i let you go with concrete certainty.
i can hear the shackles clattering to the floor.
that sound means i have made it without you,
that you were not the end of me.
and i've changed so much this year,
would you even recognize me?
it feels like i was put back into direct sunlight after
feeling the radiation only through your glass window pane.
i wear skin you have never touched.
i live on a college campus you've never been to.
i've listened to new music that you haven't heard of.
instead of loving you, i love the things that are just mine, just me.
she's an acquired taste, she is work to love.
but i do.
i love who i am without you.

LXI abrogari passuros aiebant articulum (Repeal article 61)
        
                 John was here, 1215

A leafless tree
Arms folded, at waistside
naked eyes hidden beneath
the shade of a plastic lens.

Breathing life in open air,
Lost and found
isn't discovered in a box



Sometimes, those moments
bruise us. My hand, torn
shoe string of tattered fever
which holds intent like
an infant, cradled.


You never told me it would
last this long.
Penetrating vice of verbage
that hold lips in
backward content.

Annotation: Faded Tattoo


We can't always connect
cities, streets or names.
And this bloodshed inside your
journal can move quickly.


Born again into city streets
At night, when the world is still
the mirror of ashes consist
of watching this dawn
until our fingers sing
the silence of things.

Laid out like soldiers
under dim lights,
what happens if a car comes?
We dream this in lilting laughter.

If I had a lotus flower,
if only.. I had.

Hanging on ivy vines.
Your taste is, impeccable darling.

Blazing in my blood,
you were coming down, yellow moon.
No, not you were my enemy.

With you gone, I was
living in marrow-bone to shut my
door of love, to hurt myself.

My encounters with words
were failing. I see your unkissed
lips losing their pink colors.

my head has gone dizzy
remarkable flashes of serenity
drenched with the slightest shift
in my trade of comprehending
the slightest smirk hinted at the lips
blue eyes, whirlpools and tides
the drizzle of laughter and words
which spill and fly,
floating around in the atmosphere
three dimension folded and cut so smooth
not the slightest gap, complexion so simple
just to hear your thoughts ringing in the air
a pleasant annotation to the brightening horizon
a singing wind chime, strung with sea shells
that’s all I will let myself do,
to listen to the luminous chime

Pondering my soul over old sores,
hours pass by like an illusion.
Travelling through a dozen doors,
lost inside a hazy confusion.

Seeking an acceptable solution,
for heart's ache to subside,
turning empathy into a revolution
of jointed words with rhyme applied.

Defining decisive and hasty action,
a plan created from simple abstraction,
to create an appealing attraction,
a world created in tantalizing fiction,
that will surely lead to our satisfaction.

Weaving words, a spider dances.
Hands construct life's imagination,
wisdom's truth buried within lines,
a dreamer's philosophy in annotation.

Time passes by, the work is finished.
a mind cage, emotions trapped inside,
a blissful peace that pride can provide,
my dark emotions have now diminished.

Experienced pain, a mind fraught,
stranded below this lake of thought,
within a prism, shining with resentment,
made out of fear and disappointment..
The glass cracks with new contentment.

A lettered legacy was conceived here.
Pride in the forefront of work well done.
Even though, my words, in time might disappear,
I hope they were enough for inspiration to be born.

i try to reach the depths
to venture down the darkness
that can only stretch as far as one's mind can comprehend
i cower to hide behind the annotation of words
but i find myself pushing up for air

i lack oxygen
skill
strength
my words lack cadence and cohesion
and whatever i can conjure up
to excuse my incompetence

i walk on the shoreline
and feel the sand between my toes
with my shallow eyes
i see the sunlight

To prove this,       many examples of the lecture rules
depend on the age of the accountant's Area in Greek;
ਸਕমিટ, સેલકમસ, to make sure that Archimedes enters
the large number of global areas.       And you should know that the Latin,
                                                        whose length is approximately 8 pages,
is the work of Archimedes Circle of Syracuse;
Arena rays direction.       Galen, Hiro, Siracus,
who is a son's son, is an annotation, 2. 2.
Is it easy to access Archimedes' works?
In one sense, the first research paper
shows what Gogol is. Mathematical science
has special significance, but it can be very
particle of chess games in large numbers
in some cases because it is also useful for much.
Highly highlighted what the difference
between the fact that Cancer "is, and it is used
as the end of many people and the department,
but it is also used to teach mathematics.
It is less than the mass of 30 times the electron.
It can be compared to the mass of others,
near 1.060 is 1.060 kg.                                        This ratio is about ten billion
to about 1090 cosmos Arkmidis; Google
is Googol Googol in the world, 1080.
In Eddington Number of 0,000000%,
and New in the room. The increase of theons
refers to around 1,0128.                      After going to be the anti-Archimedes,
he continues to count the number of sand 2.
Prkashwarsiy parallel universe diameter,
grain grains 1063. If it is a Filled with sand
of the day, it will be equal to 1,095 tablets.
Increase the scope of the universe, that future
of B should be low in Gogol. Soslmait Psalmith
Archimedes the size of the sample Size of grain
over the sand in the world Find out According
to the number of starts to work. In this invention,
as you say, many modern forms of parents
should not be known.  The group that has the Latin
Archimedes that I need to know, such as Areneriys 8.
King's Website Length 8. Arkiyomidij's second son
Gallo 2, which is easily accessible to explain
Was sent for. In one sense, the search work
was the first Gogol. It is especially important
in mathematics. However, these chess games
are useful for the amount of particles
that can be seen in the games. Kanser is using it
to highlight the difference between the general
and unique, and the target is sometimes
used to teach mathematics. How important
is it to understand that the total mass
of electron is less than 10 to 30 kilograms.
About the mass of the visible world, between
1,050 and 1,060 it is approximately 1.090
to 1080 billion and ten billion euros.                             0.00000001% Googol
of Nutron has shown number to Gogol Charles,
which has been completed at Eddington, 1080
and that is the whole man. About 1.0128
will note that the calculations of Archimedes
have not been calculated parallel to the sand.
The unique rights of the Armamade's position
and co-workers go after every 2 years.            Diameter is 1,063 rays of sand,
the most obvious is that the current universe
is full of sand, it is considered 1,095.
Something else of 100,000 is a black hole
that is full of Gogul sand, which is sometimes
seen as the complete mass of the Sun
in the galaxy around 0l00-1011 years,                 the beam of solar radiation L. In the future Gogol cannot be extended into these things.          The Sand
                                                         Reckoner; Greek: Ψαμμίτης, Psammites
is a work by Archimedes in which he set out
to determine an upper bound for the number
of grains of sand that fit into the Universe.
In order to do this, he had to estimate the size
of the universe according to the contemporary
model, and invent a way to talk about extremely large numbers.
The work, also known in Latin as Archimedis
Syracusani Arenarius & Dimensio Circuli,
which is about 8 pages long in translation,
is addressed to the Syracusan king Gelo II,
son of Hiero II), and is probably the most
accessible work of Archimedes; in some sense,
it is the first research-expository paper.
A googol has no special significance
in mathematics. However, it is useful
when comparing with other very large
quantities such as the number of subatomic
particles in the visible universe or the number
of hypothetical possibilities in a chess game.
Kasner used it to illustrate the difference
between an unimaginably large number
and infinity, and in this role it is sometimes
used in teaching mathematics.
To give a sense of how big a googol really is,
the mass of an electron, just under 10−30 kg,
can be compared to the mass of the visible universe,
estimated at between 1050 and 1060 kg.
It is a ratio in the order of about 1080 to 1090,
or only about one ten-billionth of a googol;
0.00000001% of a googol. Carl Sagan
pointed out that the total number of elementary
particles in the universe is around 1080,
the Eddington number, and that if the whole
universe were packed with neutrons
so that there would be no empty space
anywhere, there would be around 10128.
He also noted the similarity of the second
calculation to that of Archimedes
in The Sand Reckoner. By Archimedes's
calculation, the universe of Aristarchus
roughly 2 light years in diameter fully
packed with sand, would contain 1063 grains.
If the much larger observable universe of today
were filled with sand, it would still only equal
1095 grains. Another 100,000 observable
universes filled with sand would be necessary
to make a googol. The decay time for a super
massive black hole of roughly 1 galaxy-mass;
1011 solar masses) due to Hawking radiation
is on the order of 10100 years. Therefore,
the heat death of an expanding universe
is lower-bounded to occur a googol years
in the future. Examples of courses of instruction
are this: Dependent on the mathematician
Arnold (Greek ਸ kt মি ট, સેલકમKS) to enter
the enclosed world. And Latin, a length of 8 pages,
was called the Artists Club, Syacacuse
Arenener Giorgis. Gilemma, Heiro, Citrix,
is the note of his son, 2 2. Is it easy to find work?
On the one hand,     the first study report shows
what a Googol is. Mathematical science
has special significance, but in some cases
it is important for many and may involve
a large number of chess games. The difference
between the fact of life in Carnival and the end,
as well as the end user's, but it is also used
to teach mathematics, less than 30 times
less electron. Compared to other than 1.060 kg,
it is 10 billion to 1090 acres. Google is 1080
in Googol. In Eddington 0.000000% and in the new
section of the ton increase to approximately 1.0128
after the antimicrobial following the sand count.
Prkashwarsy parallel parallel diametre grain,
grain 1063. Beginning with "Gojam" ("B"),
"Sample", the size of the contrast begins
to begin with "the grain size of the world's sand."
Here, like your Many modern-day parents
cannot be identified as the group of Latin
Archery teams, the group's team, 8. The length
of the king's web site 8. Athosimi's
second-year son, Gallo 2, was easy to explain:
the search work was the first gig, especially
in mathematics. But these chess games
are beneficial to the particles that can be seen
in games; It is used to emphasize the difference
between total and different, and it is sometimes
used to teach mathematics. It is important to note
that the total balance of electrons is less than 10 to 30 kilograms,
ranging from 1,050 to 1,060, from 1.090
to 1080 billion and Tons of EURO, 10 billion
0.000000001% Gogol of Nutrons has shown
to Google's publicity number, which is completed
by Eddington 1080.  This is a total of 1,0128 notes.
The figures of the stories do not seem to be sandy
Armamade's status and the privileges of colleagues
continue every two years Diameter 1,063 Moon.
The most obvious is that the sand is 1.095
and the other 100,000 is a black sandy white
sandstone, sometimes with a full spectrum
of radiation at the time of the year 0100011,
the sun's radiation excitation.                                                  As in the future,
Gog Cannot exist.                                                           ­                       Things.

Sitting in my room alone,
voluntary isolation.
Listening to Bach’s sonnet,
trying to discover the right annotation

For this tragedy that I’m living,
Boy prodigy is lost in the
absence of his life’s meaning

Eyes unfocused,
Forging his dead identity.
Locked inside his
own mind’s cage

The walls are
dark in here,
they were painted
with his own fear

Feeling intimidated
by the presence of this devil,
who’s older than half my age

We both grew up together.
He is the Master,
I’m his Slave

Every once in a while,
I like to ask him
how my insecurities taste

He has been
feeding on them
for aeons,
since I’ve been
seeding my ideas
with crayons

What’s that, are you feeling sad?
Let us hop onto Instagram.
Let us binge through stories
and vicariously drink the joy
other people like to brag

Have you received a DM yet?
In the last five mins?
Let’s go back and check.
After all, isn’t your self-worth
a puppet to the notifications you get?

Trying to use my smartphone
as a prosthetic to support my
handicapped happiness,
because I cannot for the life of me
find it inside my mortal existence

Sorry Complex,
but can we take a recess?
Could I borrow your
mental health issues?
I would like to use them
as tools to build
my own little Universe
for the World’s muse

“Dude, you are so smart”
Thanks, I appreciate that.
But what’s my intelligence
gonna be worth,
when I suffocate out of my breath?
Choked by this sociopath
named Loneliness,
he likes to **** people in a slow death

He has a gang of thugs,
Anxiety is his cousin,
Depression, their Godfather
Insecurities, the Uncle who has been
molesting me since my childhood

They sneaked up on me in the alley,
while I was hopelessly looking
for love and acceptance.
They kidnapped me from my family,
and took away my ability to make friends

Now I can’t find a single person
who understands me,
Or even genuinely cares
No one from my past
who wants to make amends

Should I OD?
Shoot myself in the head
or jump off the edge?

Don’t worry, innocent bystander,
these are only metaphors.
I’m not actually trying to **** myself

Sorry to disturb
your browsing session,
please continue writing
your Instagram caption,
I was only crying for help
Or attention,
whatever fits your worldview.
You can call me the crying wolf

Don’t you get it Complex,
the world doesn’t have the capacity
to bare your illness

Can you be stable
for a ******* minute,
you narcissistic *****?
Do you have problems or not?
Can you stop fluctuating
for your friends sake?

Sure, let me just tune my mind
to a different frequency.
Wait, that’s strange,
the radio seems broken.
Are you having the same
problem as me?

It’s been a couple of years,
since I discovered
that my birth was an error
in human reproduction

I looked under the microscope,
my DNA strands are coded in
A, D, H and D
I cannot afford to pay the shrinks fee,
so I’m trying to find my own solution

I’m glad that you
looked it up
on the Internet,
But I’m sorry, you don’t really
get what’s it’s like carrying
this weight 24 / Seven

When you want to fly,
as if you are superman,
around the planet,
7 times in a Second

The mass collapsing
under its own weight,  
you forgot to equate for
e = m c squared

Why are you carrying
all this dead weight?
Complex, let go of your history

I’m trying to! Don’t you see?
Those beasts just keep chasing after me

again with myself and some music
and i've cut night drinking
to two bottles of cider
that is less than a bottle of wine
and it's not like i brought back
with me to my bedroom to finish off
while writing
having asked the magic mushrooms
eating the brains of magic monkeys
in my vision
i am like the Secular John of the Apocalypse
the Matthew of the Apocalypse
and we should all hope
and somehow even be
the reincarnated twelve
each of us to be born
with the Apocalypse of Jesus
and there should be no John
of the Revelation Inspired
because the movement came too late
or maybe it was only intended
for one man at a time
but if Jesus could be written
from the Canonical Gospels
of which there are Four
and that triggers the Jew in me
to conjure up the Tetragrammaton
and when my neighbor came
the Proselyte the worst kind
apparently the only stink of London
came back
as did the flies and the spiders
and all those things with only birds
and no lizards as predators...
the lizard the inbetween to insect
in patience
and how the mammal perceives
movement in other animals
not their ontology as some ego-integral
of Darwinism which i abhor
with the same disgust as i might
an Englishman concerning National Socialism
the Tyrant on Earth akin to God
the Englishman:
therefore the Continental Question
of England:
can America buy it from itself
like it might buy Greenland from Denmark
and make it the Puerto Rico Cheakoh....
today i spent the day
filling an assessment for work
i started thinking it was the MI5
because i'm not used to this house
and how it runs
when i came back from a month
on Kauai and prior to that
i did half a year a winter and autumn
doing 12h and sometimes 13h night shifts...
when i was working
i witnessed a murderer
walking past me
and it was just an accident
a homocide in McDonald's where someone
like me or someone with a license
to argue: self-defence...
knowing that arts ****** man...
i became lost in a dream of the great night
and now i wake up
on the dot
at 8am and sometimes prior
but i lie in bed with no motivation to live
my life
when i go to bed living the ultimate motivation
for my ghost: my other half...
like Jesus graspling with the medium
of Res Extensa:
and the extended thing encompassing other people
in the hallucination:
for at the Baptism of Jesus
how many people heard the voice of God?
did John and have his head
chopped off:
how many people inquired
about this very spectacular psychosis-osmosis
the wedding of souls
and minds with a presence that became diluted
and multi-faceted...
of the many faces until
the faces become sand no longer
moving but the column of time itself
these pyramidal schemes of christian religiosity
in the same way
the Sensible Muslims just call it Islamism
and that's equivalent to Christian Religiosity
in the context of Heidegger's historiology...
because we are talking about
a Phobia Nights of Arabia
that somehow Islamophobia is equivalent
to how the Ancient Greeks understood
phobia: fear: a funny fear...
a fear of spiders is a funny fear
a fear of open spaces is a funny fear...
then the presence of tonic and water diluted
to 100 x 1 per drop
and glug glug glug down i now have
butter in my mouth:
but truly i have only been eating more Lard...
i've been eating more Lard
because... grr... i'm 'ard...
and the Devil in his garden the mad loon
of the Lonely Lonna
at the National Portrait Gallery, again:
moon of an egg yolk in the cusp of a spoon
slowly dipped into gently frothing milk
in a saucepan...
more water please! i feel dehydrated
and maybe my brain turns
around the thoughts about the birth
of the oyster and the watermelon
and the designer of a woman's ******...
then thought of daughter

    and the use of the internet again...
today i found a new labyrinth
in the progress of the use of AI
that AI is rather like
a Tool to Navigate the Internet With
it's not something
that will steal the jobs of journalists...
no.. idiots...
like the scenario of my father bringing
a newspaper home
and reading an article about
how long it might take to book a driving license
test and apparently a back log of
6 months... archive... the times...

when using an algorithm
and searching for a newspaper article
type in:
archive the times article bots and driving license
ARCHIVE is the biggest
<prompt
word                 to sharpen algorithm use
to a specific search
rather than a general search...

archiving the internet: the article is on the internet
and i have Events Seasoning coming up
and i will not miss doing Wimbledon
but i also have contacts for Glastonbury
and where to lodge someone in between
this new found time and how
it seems wasted
when the day comes and the acid parasites
of the dying star come
with all the people of the zombie flesh
the sting of irrational and unfathomable ***
that makes the Grievious Envy
of Islam the Harem of Solomon...
then who is even historically viable to be converted
on the altar of awe
maybe the Korean King who invented
how Korean is written:
and it's not like he might be a European
and "discovered" Latin but instead
will be said: that it was a writing plagiarism
because the numbers are argued
by the Arabs, mostly, not really Hindus...
just arabs... how we owe the Arabs
numbers yet have Letters and Mirror...
but the water is grand
a sobering shower before bed
like i will not **** or **** out poison in
the body in the morning
me being Lactose Intolerant is
Edie's psy-op *******
i'm starting to feel that
but more importantly
i will flush it down the toilet
the 2x bottles of cider and a little sprinkle sprinkle
i will **** it out before i go to bed
but prior it was the telephone
and the internet
and now free **** and no taboo of buying
a magazine
there is nothing like that
just a world war I analogy to the fields
of Belgium now with walking bodies
but rotten to death minds
minds without closure
closed off in paradisum carpe diem
the paradise of the seized day...
just thoughts now of what to eat
and how important 8am is
and how it can be best emulated
and how it is all very different
when you think about writing seriously...

but there was this one poem
i found
blasted into allpoetry.com
   via data annotation

i got stuck for 7 hours
on the first question
and the entire screening questionnaire
was only intended for
1h... i couldn't get past
the question for 7 ******* hours....
i was working on it constantly...

a poem by "sjeevanantham"
is actually a data annotation marker...
i don't know what the marker implies
but if someone who dabbles
in data annotation will tell you:
someone without a poetic flare
who works with writing poetry
then it is no wonder
i spooked out
on the first question
and i do feel like if i have worked
and this is my sort of evening
shift
and i think about going to bed
at 12am and waking at 7am
and not sitting in some godforsaken
hut on a construction site
because the only people breaking in
were foxes and rats
now the night shift will truly be busy if there
are workers there and they leave their
equipment on site...
but still... that can't be the same rate
as the day shift...
or at least have a rotation of three shifts...
or two people on site
so that one and the other wake the other one up
it's impossible to stay awake at night
i feel asleep, truly,
only once...
oh i did fall asleep more times than that
but i only feel asleep once, truly: only once:
because i was only once:
caught alseep... the culprit...
ergo when i wasn't there was no need
for me to be awake
but regardless
even at this mail sorting office
the night shifts are rewarded by about $3
and that's sorta of petty squabbling enough
because it justifies the hierarchy of labour
while keeping the disparity of working
hours healthy within understanding human
health and psychology...
but a work where the night shift doesn't pay
a proportionate way more?
is not an honest sharing of labour...
which i understand is... but really isn't...
this isn't a socialist mind thinking:
as much as merit where merit is due:
there should be a minimal divident
of the same work
during daytime hours
and the same work
during night-time hours...
shouldn't the night worker be paid
slightly more...
      simply because he is making
incremental damages to his psyche
and body
by not living in a natural environment?
i.e. not sleeping at night?
it is one thing to not sleep
when you go out partying
and drinking
and sleeping a one off day
but a bit different when you'd stay up all night
watch movies
become known to the genius design
of IDLE GAMING
IDLE GAMING is a big thing
when you're alone and on the brink
of madness...
in those 12 / 13h hour shifts
and sometimes having done a day shifts
went out and did a dayshift and was out on my feet
for more of centipede sensation...
by 11pm
i am good with my catholic murmurs of prayers
before bedtime
and not in some heat of the moment...
but when she switches on that game
i get the same dopamine brain freeze
and i'm stuck in a loop
and **** is just the cherry on top
but the mindless distractions that have
emerged
i don't suppose the AI can be more
than a nagivating tool of the internet
by right an extension of the internet...
to compensate for example the emergence
of two internets
that could have been otherwise
no Deep Web
no criminal activity as such
but the Internet of Infrastructure
like Logistics, Shopping, Banking...
that hard internet
and then the soft internet
that could be better moderated
with i know the English don't like
the idea of a Passport and Driving License
and a Third ID... a Personal ID
a Citizens' ID...
but aren't we already in the process
of having one that
isn't mandated by the State
but the Globalist Appeal of Corporations
and the subsequent Hell of a Democracy
because that is the internet
and this is not a conspiracy
but by term: Social Media Profile:
that is an infringement of one's personal space
if that Third ID wasn't already
there
but it's not just a plastic:
it's your own Minority Report...
                    of past deeds and future predictors
and i'm sorry but the stomach is grumbling
and there's no poem about sandwitches
although
if there was an alternative reality i do actually
simply envision a better version of the internet...
a more coherent version
an a posteriori version with all the days
to analytical... oh jeez... my basic Kant...
SYNTHETIC...

          because like cities this is a new ending
project
like reading a newspaper
the opinion section
and getting TRIGGERED
little INSULTED
when a female "journalist" probably
in her 20s
got a column at the Time
for writing **** about the Baker Boy hat
and why Kate this
i'm not defending Kate, "queen"
but i was literally triggered
by that i was going to scream: i need my safespace!
i need my safespace of no one
insulting the baker boy cap!
i need my safe-space!

             this at the same time of someone doing
actual journalism
in the pages before
and it's as if newspapers are supposed
to be these bi-****** institutions
i figured the only safe-space men have
where women are not invited
or partake much in it
is the Club of the Men who Read Newspapers...
because women don't read newspapers
women read books
and not philosophy books:
or at least philosophy books with one hand
as the famous saying goes
about the Marquis de Sade's Uncle's Library,
a Priest of sort...
but women don't read newspapers
they're rather watch the news
or at least the Press Secretary Speeches
to the White House...
   while someone might cannibalise the babble
of a day of a month of a year
for almost a week
and getting to the part about
what's showing in cinema on t.v.
i get to remember two movies too late
one of them being Oldboy
and another a movie about autopsy with
Brian ***... i think...
but we were watching Oldboy
and the movie was cut short about 20min before
the end
and... well            d'ugh... cosmic warfare
and joke fanare...
that's still Islamism and Christian Religiosity
and looking
for the word funny combined with the Greek
phobia...

I wrote a footnote but
nobody has ever read
it because it is under
the tongue of my shoe
which is actuality in an
                         /
      An Irish Brog

A fortunate fella, walks into a cellar,
and there hears a song, from a lowly bank teller.

She hands him the cash, he bestows her his soul,
unlike his spirit, the money wouldn't fold.

Eyes are made, unbeknownst to him,
the same as to all, like the blame that was hidden.

Let us just say, our boy was now smitten,
and her looking faint, somehow only he would fall.

The dance, like a horse ridden,
tame but unsolved.

The ball, everyone attended,
but only he seemed attentive.

Magic equipped them with calls,
lowlights befell neath the stars.

Highlighted pupils, of flames
and pasts absolved.

The story was just beginning,
but the end already solved.

Driving far, just for more time to listen,
out of gas, but no smile missing.

Fading fast, because three years pales to infinity,
a beautiful ocean gave way to commotion.

A corrupted affinity, a mirror that could bleed,
if it could tell the story, maybe he could breathe.

She spells like annotation,
never spills her invisible ink.

He holds all her knives,
along with her mittens.

One carelessly loves, the other
stops to think.

A heart made with questions,
a soul like a coat.

Betrothed and invested,
in the bank of her throat.

A person that is tested,
a tester who cannot know.

A safe, and a man that will trust it,
a teller that won't tell, and
an audience that already knows.

Porto is Portugal's second largest city and by no means glitzy,
It is fascinating and vibrant and can be described as being ritzy,
The city is seductively pleasing with a truly magical atmosphere,
The multifarious reasons for its popularity are not hard to decipher

Proclaimed by UNESCO as a World Heritage City for its cultural value,
Porto's strategic location in the northwest, is geographically on cue,
In 2017, it was unsurprisingly chosen as the Best European Destination,
Locals calling it "Cidade Invicta" (unvanquished city) befits the annotation

Replete with historic churches, bustling markets and exquisite cuisine,
Buzzing nightlife and flourishing artisanship add spice to what is seen,
A mix of gothic, baroque and modernist styles define Porto's architecture,
Iconic stately bridges and winding cobbled streets, bear the city's signature

Ribeira is the most picturesque neighborhood and a tourist haven,
The mix of narrow streets with rows of colorful houses is a given,
Exterior housing facades display painted tin-glazed artistic ceramic tilework ,
Which is a Portuguese specialty seen in most architectural masterworks

Duoro River crossed by six magnificent bridges, flows through the city center,
It splits Porto into a northern and southern part, serving as the city's epicenter,
Ponte Dom Luis I is an arch bridge connecting the Duoro River's two shores,
Lower level for road traffic & upper level for metro, cause less commuting woes

Sao Bento, Porto's main railway station located in the city center, is a showpiece,
Typical blue and white wall tiles adorning the massive atrium are a masterpiece,
More than 20,000 tiles were used to create spectacular Portuguese history mosaics,
Depicting battles, weddings, scenes of popular life, that are by no means prosaic

Livraria Lello is a delightful bookshop rendered famous by Harry Potter author Rowling,
The store's beautiful interior is home to thousands of books available for browsing,
The sinuous wooden staircase, ceiling piping and stained-glass skylight add a glow,
Rowling reportedly visited the bookstore frequently, while teaching English in Porto

The Gothic Monument Church of Saint Francis is hailed for its Baroque inner decor,
"Golden Church" is a breathtaking testament to the artistic and religious fervor,
It's lavish opulent interior features intricate wood carvings coated with gold dust,
To see the gilded ornate woodwork of walls, aisles, pillars chapels; a visit is a must

The breathtaking spectacle of light and shadow in the Church leaves one spellbound,
Stretches of gilded swath mesmerizingly shimmer and gleam, on looking around,
Descending to the underground catacombs, one can see Franciscan monks buried,
An ossuary packed with hordes of bones beneath a glass floor, leaves visitors frenzied

Porto is famous for it's Port wine, quite possibly Portugal's most liked beverage,
It is considered a dessert wine and contains additional alcohol - a rare privilege!
Called "fortified wine", it tastes sweeter as a major part of the fruit sugar is retained,
The city has numerous wine cellars with guided tours, where the process is explained

The hustle and bustle of Lisbon may be the missing element while visiting Porto,
Riverside cafes, street art, picturesque locales, give the city it's vaunted mojo,
It is probably the city's compactness that gives the feeling of being so crowded,
At the end of the visit, it is only the pleasant memories that remain embedded