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Raw words Sep 2014
I feel hunger
Have no taste
Food does not appetize
You do
I feel hunger
I do not want to eat
For to be full on something other than you seems untrue
Can I be
I feel misery
Hungry
They say I am thin
I feel huge compared to them
Could it be
This heavy soul
That consumes me
My insides growing and blooming
Over the lust I have for you
Food does not appetize
In the daze to come
You will want more
But feeding without feeling cannot be ignored
My lust growing
Like a **** inside
My organs yearn for the food I choose to hide
For the food would take up too much space
If feeling was consumed a grace from above would give me my taste
The food would be good
But feeding without feeling cannot be ignored
Please may I have some more?
the monsters fought
the monsters swore
they wounded each other, they self-each wore
a bond was torn
and lies were born
innocence in its prime would be denied
as lies led would be accepted and
believed by every one of its kind

i do not know perfection
i do not know function
but i do know what's fair
i do know what's pure
all that is worthy and sincere
it may not be seen but it will be told
as the lies unfold and the truth is one we hold
forlorn  hope lies in being genuine and honest
so much is wasted as we are heaven-promised
we are told what to like but frowned upon when we comment

who are we to not see clearly?
who are they to say nay to what
we
truly need to
be?

you can appetize your wits and stimulate your senses
you can elevate and on a high dissect the story
dissect the story of its fences and defenses

in a world where we swirl to the curl
of the coil and its whirl
in a world where we twirl and swerve
the virginity and honesty in the eyes of the sunshine girl
we are found dusting the mist of mystery off the pearls of our divinity
without really seeing clearly the truth
and immortality that embodies the life of you and me

but will she grow and pro the cradle afro?
we may just know the buckles of the
teeth of time as it chuckles
then our souls will not be in trouble
and we could curb all that keeps us trapped in this bubble as we get to the pop the rock nobble.
sentiments of art in its spasms of artistry, stretching for expulsion. expression
Poison
Poison, dripping on the tongue
soaking in the flesh
crawling through the veins
possessing the body
reaping the soul
waiting inside...
waiting to be caught red-handed.

Hate,
a poison I know too well,
gripping my heart
sacking my defenses
and throwing them into the river.

Hate ignites my passion
turns lover to monster
turns monster to lover
and all the while
I drink in the crude oil.
This raw token of evil.
Its malice is like
the claws of a lion
hidden
waiting
like poison
suddenly they thrash!
Peace is cut to pieces.

I once had an appetite for lovers.
Now, I only appetize the monsters.
Dark thoughts,
plastered upon this page
like ink,
or dark paint.
The contrast is you.
Don't give in. Just know.

Side note: by appetize here, I mean "to effect appeal."
As far as I know, appetize is not a real word.

Anyway, enjoy :)

DEW
Julian Jul 2022
How Does History Really Work?

The enantiodromia of parallax founded as a predicated fulmination of retrograde incident precluding accidental consequent is a natural referent of a bypassed bridge that through tip-lipped coercion resorts to the nature countenance and visage of the holiest creator of our majestic universe bolted to the linearity of patterns of trigonometric spelunkers seeking a sub-Pythagorean orbit of granular generativity that becomes its own amplivagant vessel and simultaneously ampitheater that is a fission of magnetized smog mobilized in ulterior provenances of heightened parlance for impavid labtebricole secrets marauding with visagists that cloak the heavens in the elective cardiac synergy of a saturnine swindle wandering listlessly with jive-talking smooth-walking creatures of cerebral habit jaunty with legacy but bounded by the strict cloffins of the lambent source of journeymen into the sojourn neither of regaled destiny nor whispered prophecy but more on the lines of a conflated flux dispersal of entropies competing in space time to wander endlessly through the diaspora of the living hallowed graves of the Potemkin Village of the silentium of the protectorate behind McCauley Culkin’s agoraphobia. History rotates upon a transdimensional supercalendrical access point beyond which there is  nothing but terminus even in the absence of pointed aberration because the milk of even the lactose inferior mettle of scurrilous witwanton bludgergrumbles of the wednongues is a hallowed wassail only to the degree the counterfeit becomes moribund by the rickety cringes of logical deceit becoming tinsellated surfeit that the stars appetize for but because they are installed with a degree of reticent amnesia it grafts a gridlock of paralysis from which the hostage situation humanity has prevailed through despite velivolant winds to the contrary is capable of plumbing abyssopelagic transportation only in the moments when the material world and the numinous intersection of the seminal ingeminations of orderly demarches in the folksy remedies which bandy their temptations on the borrowed bibliopolists who in gingerly Canada Dry secrecy burrow the furrows of the sulcate grooves of waxen miracles in the glabrous limelight of the gallywow diversion that earns leverage over the meager rather than spars with the promethean pataphysics of a time that is becoming so prolific with fulgurant streaks disguised by smog that even  the most well-paid firefighters can never stop the rampant conflagrations from infiltrating cantabank muses upon alighted destinies. We are at a centripetal point in time among many others but because we witness the transdimensional bypass with such geopolitical clarity it becomes an obvious zugzwang for those who try chryselephantine gambits and gimcracks in the ginnels of backwater boondoggles to enforce the hibernaculum of blackguard engraved in the literate apostasy of man from the true origins of the dynamos that all decided together to ensure the vitality of the syndicated enterprise of the very transgressions and felonious against the “Space Cops” to the extent their overflush of ostentation in their gingerly mannerisms becomes itself the guarantor of an ascertained future clouded by murky residual charnels in the nemorivagant chase for the shining beacons of the brains that siphon unprecedented influence in order to cleanse lavaderos of the ***** grime of egestuous obolary poverty of the pastorauling and the aspen groves that lurk with pernicious impertinence above sandapiles of sadly deceased souls journeying towards neither an eternal conflagration nor a vacancy of substance but rather that substantial determination of magnanimity. The myths that perplex humanity were clothed as a parvenu IQ test for the people who sizzled with the saute of keen acumen foisted upon a thought loop of lunatic subversion of ultraviolet genius beyond the detection of the lens of prismatic fortunes gained by reversing photons in time to regionalize the spectral reality into the elaborate alveolate ploy by the elite to assume not by arrogation but rather by thaumaturgy that all witnesses become contributors in the modern age and therefore this funnels the continuum and spectrum of a radiological race girded by the futtocks of jetsetting analysis to bifurcate planes of trajectory that at first diverge widely because of raconteurs grafted with numinous fictions of the facade of man in a Potemkin Village like Manhattan which saw its population decline by nearly four-hundred thousand people in three months (All of the Boroughs) to invest in enclaves where their furtive fruition would be recognized. The very invention of time travel is an epigenetic alien configuration of races that outlived us and sought sidereal mysteries in boosterism that granted us parceled notaries that spell doom for democracy but bonanzas for the autarky found in inalienable rights such as the pursuit of happiness most importantly configured into the realms of persuasion to become a meddlesome hypestorm that few tempestuous mercurial sailors would dare to journey beyond because the early grave is reserved froward in the momentary amnesia of videos of accidental leaps that frogmarch us into a more clever ascertained future micromanaged by a collective syndicate of outfoxed limiculous creations drowning in cesspool swamps of money to bury the bridewells alive because essentially we are now entering the pivotal crux of  history when one man’s barnstorm becomes a collectivized enterprise to radically reform the conditional antiquity inherent to time and to gouge funding for armadas fought by warriors that lapse between milliseconds in order to deliver calculated payloads with extremely precise mathematical precision. When someone patented the Theory of Relativity he postulated that the condensation of matter is fungible and flexible plasticity rather than a benumbed sopiter race of grumbling groaks that become costermongers for comatose sleeping pills and mandatory heart monitoring. There are a few moments in history capable of jump starting the generator not of myth but the progeny of priggish mathematical facts lurid in their prurience of permanence to ensure that neither mythomane nor sophist can clamber into an artificial alcove of the celestial paint of enhanced perception predominating over a century obsessed with perceptual enhancements of prosthetic invention emigrating from distal orbits among the lunisolar accord as well as around the regional taxes of Saturn and its cove of troves of bohemian impertinence. Analyzing history in the alpenglow of the donnism of hedonistic impetuous importance is a yield and cloveryield to an optimism of guarded shibboleths easily duplicated by laboratory investigations into the microbiological elements of the functioning human society upon which percolations of reality drawing ever near the icebergs of certainty that the ship will eventually sink in Africa and that sad welter should appall us all but because one person who owns the master of destiny cognomen capable of surpassing the largesse of the frissons of glamour becomes the swift parvenu of an anointed bludgergrumble extorted by powerful puns in this society of fashionable violence to enforce codes of silence by tampering with individualism and individual flavorks that demassify to preselect by artificial implements that the predestination they heard was a warbled echo of a now extinct future aborted as the time line converged upon the antipodes of fission and friction to exert filagersion in geotaxis to ensure that the sworn blatteroons of bloviation endowed with such great fiduciary importance that when exact events are hallowed in history movie dialogue memorializes those moments at the very second they are observed without being an underminnow of lip syncing. Some primary examples of pataphysical conundrums exorcised from time is how the whiskey bar aloft in the heights of the stratosphere could find direct knowledge of the future live on camera in movies like Twister to memorialize the thaumaturgy of sartorial shoes mixed up in time and how in Lost’s final episode of the first season the entire cast was elated by their renewal of knowledge or the introduction of the inseminated creed of the mysterious bottle that was kicked and then dematerialized. Physics is a funny science but the belabored tropes of game theory existentially altered the trajectory of humanity from a docile ploy of slot machine slaves into a society that engraves its superstitions upon pervious minds to the salubrious decorum of a whittled henpeck of privilege that whatever is broadcast automatically becomes preeminent because it is so widely spread even among piebald audience of sebastomania and lunacy can be cordial with poorly kept secrets secreting the jaundice of self-reference and milking dead organs of surgical pride for the stomached emasculation of the humane virility undergirding civilization. Right now and starting in early September 2020 and much before that if you study the Earthquakes created near Hawthorne, Nevada the meterologist suddenly becomes the kingpin because his Big Lebowski antics are a sardonic rift on the rafts of publicity to reprove the agentic force of a discarnate inanimate evil of a being that lacks sensory capacity so thereby seeks to disincarcerate its own obligatory tether to the vacuum of warbled tilts of information to domineer with a degree of captaincy catapulted by the future dominion of historicity compounded by the dearth of energized rebuke flabbergasted venom of deceitful charlatans of yobbery complicant   on contraplex bromidrosis of ergasia flapdoons emigrate from the citadel of veridical truth.
Elixir trumpets ,
Decorated stages,
Grand welcome to the Elephant God with fragrant garland's of roses.
Hail to the festivities of wisdom , courage , love , knowledge and truth .

Bring forth the colours of joy and happiness ,
Bring forth the warmth and oneness ,
Light the lamp of prosperity and brightness.

Stir in offerings of  aromatic delicacies ,
Appetize in the aromas of divinity and peace.

Play the tunes of intricate celebrations .
Ring in the bells and swing into a festive mood .
Recite the name of  the almighty with full gratitude.


©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
6.9.2019.#Happy ganesh jayanti to all !#
Ganesh chaturthi or the birthday of lord Ganesh is celebrated as a huge festival all over India .
It marks the birth of the omnipresent and in true symbolise is celebrated in every hindu household with pomp and show . A festival I grew up loving and learning the true essence of the celebration .
The festival popularly know as 'Ganesh Chaturthi' falls in the months of August or September of the Gregorian calendar. The festival is marked with the installation of Ganesha clay idols privately in homes, or publicly on elaborate pandals (temporary stages). Observations include chanting of Vedic hymns and Hindu texts such as, prayers and brata (fasting). Offerings and prasadam from the daily prayers, that are distributed from the pandal to the community, include sweets such as modaka {sweet dumplings}as it is believed to be a favorite of Lord Ganesh. The festival ends on the tenth day after start, when the idol is carried in a public procession with music and group chanting, then immersed in a nearby body of water such as a river or sea.
The festival celebrates Lord Ganesha as the God of New Beginnings and the Remover of Obstacles as well as the god of wisdom and intelligence.
John Dunn Jul 2020
Serpent inverting sense invoking smiles
Flash bone to the fruit of the knowing good
Taste of the sickening or urgent food
Swagging God to appetize necrophiles.
Serpent whispers war swallowing souls for miles
Each way as a starved out heavenly feud
Flames to ruin the body by bodies imbued
With gut lust the conflicted tongue riles.
A worm burrowing through to eat the turn
Will savor seed at core of maggot site,
Settled omnivorous as freshly found.
Selving **** to cocoon the worm it churn,
A hungry untasted hermaphrodite
Devouring dainty dead meat now renowned.

— The End —