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Existential me Dec 2017
I love her.
No not ******* worldly,
But softly, purely , celestially.
Obsessively?
Not necessarily, just completely,
selfishly and I'm sorry.
I love her unconditionally, some say unconventionally.
But they don't understand me.
Yes...I love her.
Most spiritually, asexually, platonically and wholly.
I love her, truly, honestly, musically and poetically...
She doesn't have to love me.
Your looks may fade... my love shall not.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2022
i've started to absolutely loath these shifts at Oxford...
for one: compared we're talking about a league one side...
the ****** stadium is one thing
but... just the drive there: and back...
out of the house from 1pm until 12:30am...
and for what? there's that coughing up for fuel
which has increased from £10 to £15... hell: my pay
hasn't risen...
   on topic: i was talking with my father about this...
inflation... the prices of commodities increases,
but the wages do not...
    fair enough: i might seem gullible at times...
given my grandfather was a member of the communist
party... but then communism in Poland
(a satellite state) wasn't the same as it was
in the actual Soviet Union... i'm no romantic of communism...
but surely if there's a concept of inflation:
there ought to be a logic around a concept of deflation...
but there isn't one in economics,
i.e. when wages go up: but the price of commodities
stays the same...
yet... the work of dairy farmers is the same: quality
and quantity-wise... economics it not my strong point...
i'm just thinking out-loud...
and i like thinking-dumb...
              my recent fascination comes in the form
of Confucius < Mozi < Mencius < Zhuangzi | Huizi
i.e. Kong Qui < Mo Di < Meng Ke < Zhu7ang Zhou |Hui ****...

i leave the house for roughly 10 hours and bring
back about £35... sure... it's the easiest shift on my list...
i get paid £35 to watch a football match...
but? today... the sky above Oxford looked more
entertaining than the football match... so? for the majority
of the time while the sun was still clinging
to reign over the sky: i was just looking at very pretty
clouds in the distance... i sometimes can't stomach
these base human foundations for society:
entertainment... i'd rather drink a bottle of wine
and just watch clouds behave like sloths...
or... perhaps not sloths... more like when a jellyfish
****** a cauliflower....

at least there was banter with my "manager"
en route toward Oxford... i ate a McDonald's in the alley
while waiting for him to pick me up...
banter... oh right: code words...
we call them the PLATOON... there's about 40 or so
"banana boat" folk... Daniel is the guy who conjured
up the expression: black don't crack...
what does that mean? you can't tell a black person's
real age... since you can be looking at a black
person who's 50... and you'd guess their age
to be 30... black don't crack...
i really think cosmetic industries should look into
the genome of both black people and people
with downs syndrome: those ******* hardly age...
you can't tell if there's a wrinkle on them...
seriously!
                  white boy humour... white boy
British humour... i'm writing this in complete earnest...
it's not even a joke: well... it's funny in a conversation
when you can crack jokes without a CCTV crow
on your shoulder...
so we cracked jokes about the PLATOON...

Daniel played that famous video of the ventriloquist
with that Ahmed the dead suicide bomber
puppet: I **** YOU...
i laughed on the verge of tears...
it's almost like that Dave Chapel sketch about
uniforms: a woman all tarts and no choux pastry
stuff... and Dave's like: pretending to be a police officer:
excuse me, ma'am... i may be dressed as a police officer!
but it doesn't mean that i am, a police officer!
or Team American's Durka Durka: Muhammad Jihad...
i just said to Daniel: are any of these ***** from
Rotherham? where? oh you know...
that Rotherham grooming gang scandal...
i'd love to get my hands on one of those *****...

a former prisoner officer talking to a former
chemistry student... seriously... those organic chemistry
schematics of electron migration were a bit pointless:
until i realised: they showed me loopholes in
the language... call it the rearrangement of vowels
and consonants... absolutely ridiculous:
since all theory and very little practice...

oh sure... the PLATOON was there...
i started it calling it SLOW-IQ from cousin-*******...
which is true... you have to start calling out
taboos at some point...
i mean: these guys were slow...
Ha-HMED! hark the H... draw a longer breath
and forget that the R was ever associated with a trill
of a rattlesnake...
oh sure... we get sold that puny story-detail
of low testosterone levels in European men....
these days? i was signing them in...
i had to ask 2 or 3 times for them to repeat their names:
they spoke their names so delicately
i couldn't understand them...
and i'm the one who picks up sounds...
my auditory hallucinations sometimes speak louder
than these people, "these people"...

i checked up on some theory...
the length ratio of the index finger to the ring finger...
i look at my left hand... then at my right hand...
oh **** me... no wonder...
i'm a *******... a promiscuous *******...
my ring finger is much longer than my index finger:
much longer on my left hand than my right hand...
ergo? a shorter index finger implies higher levels
of testosterone...
   am i to be, now, what? self-congratulatory...
no... it's intrinsic ontology: i can't help what i am...
just like i can't help with being a raw-red Caucasian
in mentality that's deviant from the British-compact
model...

i cleaned the house in the morning really focusing
on repeating the song My Friends by
the Red Hot Chilli Peppers...
hey... listen... if these ******* have the audacity to
march in with their mosques... blow themselves up for
no grand attaching reason to further each and every one
of our plights: again... life isn't that terrible...
reality isn't unshakeable: unmoveable...
only people unto people make this life difficult:
usually out of complacency... laziness...
a solipsism that doesn't begin to factor in a fact
that solipsism could be a theory: a testing ground
of understanding autism...

but i abhor these Oxford shifts...
i leave them spent... the egress is magic though...
i'm more time-wasting than time-investing...
i still don't understand how inflation works
and i still don't understand why deflation doesn't exist...
the worth of goods increases:
but the method of producing these goods stays
the same... i have to admit...
i'm thinking about going out of my comfort zone...
looking into the thinking of economists
and not philosophers...
after all, my name was once allocated
to one famous tax-collector...
                     mind you: i like thinking about money...
not that i have a stash of it...
just enough to enjoy thinking about it...
i like thinking about money because i don't think
about spending it like most people do:
like most people who spend it frivolously and therefore
don't have enough of it and therefore
are in debt: these people are in debt because
they spend money on credit...
i have money, because i spend money on debit...

i couldn't never allow myself to accept a credit based
system of expenditures...
it made no sense to me: sure, you have more protection
using a credit card than a debit card...
after all the current system focuses more on creditors
than it does on debtors... then again: like for like...
you need less creditors than debtors:
you actually require more people in debt than
those willing to provide credit...
but then there are people like me who hyper-focus
on an earning-spending dynamic who
avoid building up too much credit:
by not building too much credit...
you can't exactly build up your... "debit score rating":
there's no "debit score" rating...
money turns into water...
you behave like your wallet if a dam...
that's a "metaphor" for savings and expenditure...

it's impossible for me to spend on credit...
why? i can't earn on credit:
well... i can earn on credit of my performance:
but that's a different sort of credit:
it's a credit i earn... rather than spend...
but i spend exclusively on debit...
on the basis of a debt i'm owned for my work...
i like money...
in philosophy there's that scared word: THING...
and NOTHING...
in economics there's that word too: MONEY...
and NO-MONEY...
oddly enough nothing is a categorised as a pronoun
while thing is categorised as a noun...
ergo? money is a noun and no-money
is a pronoun...

                    it's not even about being poor...
broke-***... it's about having enough money to do...
whatever the hell you want...
without a co-dependant... no woman: no children...
i can ******* from a shift... ask to be dropped
off at a petrol station... rather than the usual pick-up
spot... buy a £3 platter of sushi...
three ciders... a 10 packet of cigarettes...
eat... smoke a cigarette... then take at least two
bottles of cider dancing into the night...
i used to love swimming... now? if it's not cycling
it's walking... esp. come the night...

there's nothing quiet like it...
i hate these Oxford shifts... if it wasn't for the humour
i don't think i would have ever bothered...
focus on perception...
it's all about the TILT of the EARTH...
from the winter months and the summer months...
i was admiring the night thinking about
just that... this one... constellation...
in the summer months she's up-close...
you can see her enlarged (yeah?
things in English are generally asexual...
but you can ascribe *** to them...
like in most sensible tongues of the European
continent, there can be a sense of
the masculine and the feminine in nouns...
there's no need for gender-neutral pronouns...
there can exist gender-provocative nouns...
constellations are feminine)

   right... so there's this one jaw-dropper
of a constellation...
it's massive in the summer-time...
can't miss it... what the naked eye can't miss:
the mind ought to write about...

you know the constellation i'm talking about:
during the summer months it's enlarged...
but during the winter months it's squeezed into
its compact representation:
it's the same ******* constellation...
but since the earth is tilted on its axis...
that tilt generates a "disparity" of vision...
it's microscopically viewed in the summer months
and macroscopically viewed in the winter
months... when you sometimes walk the night
streets... tilt your head left to right...
and watch a bonanza of frost settling on the pavement
like it might be the glitter of paparazzi's cameras
eventing a strobe light effect of frost
glitter paving your honoured walk back
to a cold bed where only you or perhaps a cat might
be sleeping in...

no... it's not the constellation of cancer:
it's the constellation of scorpio:

                    •
                •
            •

­                   •
                      •
                          .
           ­                                  •

    •

that's most definitely a scorpion...
the tail... the torso... and the two pincers
extending...
but i'm not referring to the constellation
of scorpio... i'm refferering
to...the trapezium with a tail...

the big and little wheelbarrow constellation are
one and the same...


                        •


                                                                ­            •
                                            •


                                                 •                  •


it just depends on how the earth tilts...
call it her the little and big wheelbarrow...
microscopic in the realm of summer:
macroscopic in the realm of winter...
not a rhombus with a tail?
and what about the constellation of
scorpio...

three days by: Jane's Addiction...
always with the bass guitar that gets me...
now admire the tilt of the earth as this one constellation
all the same moves in and out to to an even greater
focus... "flat earth" expert as myself
ought to know... knowing one's own geometrics of
not having the luxury of parodying
movements that
demand the rigours of traffic...
such is a man's luxury of trailing behind night...
trailing behind dreams:
behind dreaming...
such is this world: that affords me so much
luxury... so little mediocracy...
            
tonight i brought back an acorn...
no... i wish i brought back an albino mulberry...
then again: i wish i brought back an oak conker...
but i prefer acorns more...
those hatted pebbles... oak? chestnut...
a corn that's not corns... that's acorn?
conker then... no? a nut with thoughts of
pirate X-marks-the-spot-chests?!
etymological tested grounds of frequented nouns...
hammer... table... mosquito...
            sun and moon...
                        sun as a he and moon:
although however stressed asexually: will be a she
in Ing-Leash.
A de Carvalho May 2012
We live in a world of noise,
of parallel and asymmetric movement,
where nonchalance has become the norm.
Sweet, melodious and pleasing
is our phony makeup.
We are animals that reject our animalness.

We dread nuclear, secular, red lights, cockroaches, love,
threats and non-threats alike.
Fear has taken us on its morning stroll,
and predictably we bark.
(The sun is almost up)  

We are turned on and turned off
by oil-, wind- and hydro-powered switches
that respond to clapping.
There are beige, mauve and burgundy
curtains to choose from,
and supersized french-fries, pots, and cars.
We have lost ourselves in a mess of options,
and strive incessantly to complicate.

We fly in formation
and flow through carefully placed
and beautifully colored rocks made from Styrofoam,
down an improbable *****
of over-romanticized hypotheses.
We are *******, ego-centric and nepotistic,
and asexually multiply.

Thought and all other wasted rationality
keeps the axes of our unsustainable and fanatical wheels
from breaking loose (into free space and true autonomy).
We create meaning where there is no meaning,
and scientifically and thoroughly flout
god and the truth,
whilst we absorb, photosynthesize, bear fruits and grow leaves
(we are still, essentially, vegetable).

With every step we go deeper, and faster and better,
and farther from our selves.
Hence, we barely feel.
We are deaf and blind and mute
and approximately frozen;
and dance, swirl, sing and scream
in our vague, whimsical life,
till we fall.
wordvango Feb 2015
in erectile functions or asexually
the ideas that give meanings or rises
or raise the honor guards rifles;

complicate the pool with lust genes
surprise me in profundity
or praise the humble

help yourself by helping another
don't accept blindly what is handed out
consider the futility

of grandness in you and houses and material things
just once
let it

reproduce
a kinder heart in us in me
in you
wordvango Jul 2017
for which theirs is no liturgical everyday urge
in the cycles we moon flow tides desire
then escape the meanings the influences
while the blood rushes  in periods
can we make haste
or deny the seasons and seances
and the ****** a destination urges
the first day comes like a  sunrise
new bold nature all natural

subconscious

asexually normal

a day any other
tall warm
I.

i struggle to find some alternative to her snoring and her moaning and her talking about magic numbers associated with keeping or reaching a perfect space in which to live, but i have to find alternatives...

Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

       a reading by Jordan (a) Peter's son:

sum: in Icelandic:
everyone's everybody or someone's ibin
a son of...

hereson boujeron...
did i: mishear that?

maybe my listening "skills"
are not up to scratch: whether vinyl
or liquirice
liquid not D but still
it's not Lick-a-Rish: reesh: reach!

envy of the stars...

liquirice... spelling mistake: underlined
in red...
liquorice... LIK-O-REESH...
reed?

            i much prefer fennel: seeds...
but i also know
that...
well: no surprises...

Roman cumin is standard cumin: "standard"...
but in the same way
Caraway Seeds are also categorized
as cumin (elsewhere):

pizza for dinner
and i "suffer" a suffering of this
doughy platitude that
doesn't: envelop the jaw to bite
for worth of bone, sinew, marrow slurp,
this dough like this sickness
borrowed from
the metaphor
whereby words become transfixations
to call wine blood
to call bread body
this is not what the Slavic atheists
envisioned as simply
necrophilia
but this is poetic cannibalism
what sick mind gives this envy
and mindless watered down soliloquy
not even St Boniface or Augustus

i write this as if waking up
to the simultaneous revelation of
both Auschwitz and Golgotha
equal in parody
this tender kept heave! heave!
i find not Euro-centrism in Christianity
therefore?
i can: clearly! disregard it as
something to curl and to tend to "shy intellects"
fervent ground: fertile ground
where Christianity should be
not a crutch on the spirit of the European
but a post-European dumping
ground
like... Africa... parts of China...
somewhere south in the tropics of Vietnam...
Africa (again)
south America:
and... north America...

i can't stand this cult of the "misplaced"...
"missing": cosmopolitan Messiah
this: no wandering in the desert for
40 years by god the Arabs and the Egyptians
are having a field day of
explaining who's who in the plagiarism of:
nobody to borrow or steal from...

so i was skim reading today's newspaper
and finally realized:
CLASS...
a hierarchy a society
not that i beg to differ
but so much of authoritative print
is based upon the middle-class
and their loss of cooing when pigeons
make authority of the sound...

so much CLASS: opinions i really have
no concern for...
in my little corner
i can sort of breathe an opinion off myself:

"decolonizing" the teaching of philosophy
disregarding Plato et al
as somehow "white":
like the Mediterranean curls and olive glistening
was: up to what point
will we conjure up "whiteness"
to say: oh hell yes! the Finns were the white
oppressors all along!

coming to terms with Anglo-Saxon
****** trivialities of
power-end submission-begin dynamics
like for me:

it wasn't enough to bed a 55 year old woman
to finally realize: in my 38th year
that somehow:
getting my rocks off at the prospect of
a 20 year old "body" who
punctuated *** with: pay-me-more
for: oral *** for the fingers slipping
into **** and guitar was
a saxophone's polyphony with trumpets
and trombones

and how those black men allowed
us to escape the rigidity of genius music
in score
in orchestra
with all that silence before the crescendos
so freely
this is some Jazz Musicians' Appreciation
Society?!

the Euros have started and i watched
Germany trash Scotland 5 - 1
but it wasn't just about watching
the football
that was in the background
like music like radio 4: BBC 4
i'm going through a breakup
and i'm cheating
with the workaholic me
the one that scribbles a tonne of words
with a search for some signets
in Katakana and Cuneiform
and Jesus
Jesus saying as much as he did
just doesn't cut it for me
i need a fire of intellect
and by simply nodding along
to those sayings
cages in on Kauai:
in London:
but not in Princeville.....................................

II.

am i such a bad man?
today i felt neuter good: atheistic less
and solipsistic more

i shoveled pebbles from one side
of the garden to the other
to make room for measurements
of garden furniture:
WIKLINOWE... the **** does that mean:
i so didn't want to hurt her
i made an SS-man incision
with a scalpel
and shared two videos
then the cutting words: THE END...
her religiosity got in her way
her kindness and femininity
a complex got in the way
her *** got in the say
and opened a many other ways
to see

am i a bad man?
i never cheated with her in the 4 years
long distance relationship
impossible to live
like that on DOPAMINE hits
the chemist in my ignored it for far
too long...
those were dopamine hits
having met on the Jesus Trek
i wondered: am i not riding my bicycle
that many times?

me mother and father were
actually woken up by a smell...
my female cat left us...
woken up by a smell:
not a sound...
a smell...
the **** blew the roof off and all
the rats turned into lizards...
i'll admit: some turned into cockroaches...
but then that was a far reaching
Apocalyptic B-movie B-Plan
of the vermin
i imagine a flag of central Europe:
i see four colors...

black
red
yellow
white

      yes: that's the flags of Germany, Poland
and the Vatican..

i feel like such a bad man
but today i felt normal:
i broke up with a girl and i spared myself
what i already knew:
she had a meeting with her friend
and her friend's friend some artist
from California
and i already knew:
but she prolonged
then she heard i was inheriting property
in Poland
and so she stuck around
for a bit longer
and the torture continued

and there was more Jesus than Christ
then someone broke in and starting
shouting: Immanuel!
Immanuel!
                
                    Isaiah: make me return among
this plagiarism: who the **** brings
a book into a forest?!
like who blings with: brings forth
a glass pane to the desert?!
i ask! i ask!

this is writing with interlude this is no
case for the Editorial High Priest
for this writing to reach the masses:
perhaps a few
out of what, i ask?

not out of difficulty?
i don't ask out of vanity
or snobbishness:

in the night i heard the words:

CO ROBISZ:

not: CO TY ROBISZ?

nor TY ROBISZ...

translation?

what (you) do       (beyond lost in translation:
a bilingual loss of translation,
translating into English from Polish
where there is less "shrapnel":
less conjunction not so frequent stress on
pronouns...

CO ROBISZ...

   what you do:

             because there was not question
asked by my father as i jumped
an inch quicker to send that cat ****
for examination in the sewers and picnics...

CO TY ROBISZ: yes:
the pronoun interrogative structure of sentence
even without a ? stressor at the end
would be just that: half asleep father with
burning nostrils like i...

TY ROBISZ: i sort of wish he said that
but by saying that
he would be implicit in deeming me a god:
but i am not: you (are) doing...

robienie would be the exactness of
doing...
since it is indefinitely placed in grammar:

ROBISZ is a DO- without an -ING
just like:
BJE could  be the antithesis word
from BE- within the confines of BEING
via -ING
but unlike the -ING of DO- and BE-
one can say that: stressed using the articles of
"atheism":

DO or NOT do...
either way: you're going to: BE!
to do and to be are: indefinite articles..
doing and being are: definite articles!

to do not to be
is doing is being
is not neither
not being and
not doing
but rather
either doing
and not-doing
or
being and
           not-being...

III.

have i left a daughter?
i would not have so many transcendental
euphoric experiences
of simply coming back from work
and acknowledging:
t.v. is acid
need the alkaline gangrene of
whiskey and marijuana
and day-dream come 11pm...

have i left a daughter?
i left a lover
and no amount of ****
will suffice but hell i know it now
and it's like horror movies
i now watch without being scared
so i watch *******
without being aroused
or trying to find paths to the stars...
learned it with intimacy
par excellence:

but i can't forgive her
the book: initiated like a Kantian
categorical imperative
like that wording somehow deafens
the blow
the turn the other cheek
i will never do
but am under sort of forced will:
not free will:
not enslaved will:
i am forced to: live this will...
from free will
to enslaved will
to forced will...

i turned the other cheek to Samir
not Kibsi
not Qarri
not... Samir-Saffar-Ali...

               i have been forced to muse:
to mule the alkaline and acids
the salts and the sugars
i am one carrot shy of a donkeys'
ride on a roller coaster...

                      21 years and i'm not counting:
perhaps that intelligence
deviation:
i explain it as:
been on the construction site for 40
years and didn't use ear guards of moth cloth
or worked in the events industry
as a security guard
and gone deaf from teenage screams
or listening to my headphones
with music from teenage me
almost shortening the switches:
man needs torture! torture!
make his ego come up with excerpts
coming and going
not a sleeper narrative:
i think i am i **** i eat i welcome
i pet i zoo i transgender i stink of glue...
i ergo i plus i minus i divide
i shave i live i outlive i ferment i create god

IV.

but this sharp sound in my head
from the word
whispered into my head via ear:
PIENIADZE: money...

oh but the devil can exist outside
the human world
allowed to be a shaman of shadow
and torrential rains! discipline!

watching too much ****
can make you forgot your original
wits and measures
of watching with disgust two
serpents:
two snails... mating: asexually
it would seem...
even now... the woodland pigeons
seem to be...           GANDU!

GANDU! gay: in Urdu...
sorry... this last work advert i saw stressed
that there are preferential ethnic characteristics
concerning a job role:

best be BLACK
ASIAN
NOT CHINESE
NOT RUSSIAN
BLACK AND ARAB
AND INDIAN AND URDU
BEST BE GAY TOO
TRANSGENDER NO
JUST LGBTQ+ queue too!

can't be white:
even German white is too white
so like German English
history is nothing
because oh i'm pretty sure
a Somali can joke
about Nigerians not hearing themselves
but then again
i'm just a white guy
with two Africans born of immigrants
and two immigrants
on the Bananas Bahamas..

this is the Royal Academy of Arts...
the job is simple...
£26,000 a year...
for... 16h worth of work over 2 days...
but...
Africans and Asians (not the Chinese,
of Japanese: didn't you know that Japanese
are ****?!) and GAYS...
#GIMPSFREEPALESTINE...

  so... not anyone necessarily competent
in faking and then flaking a smile?
no... none of that?
not anyone intelligent
just a racist mantra reignited
because if that **** has been
then let's return to the god of tribalism
and not any: withholding
god of the intellect when the Quran
was first scribbled down!

time for: herding the people...
it's an ugly prospect but
it's one that has been measured as occuring
countless times in history
without any real focus of entrapped
leverage of importance...

for weeks i thought myself this terrible man,
this...
ah.... but language and its own purposes
arrived and were left waiting
and i too waited: in steam and ferment
and the prospect
of a meteor
and i too decided: as *** the envious
parody of when is intellect to be envied
to be pardoned like a mutation

heart broken: heart mended:
heart broken: heart mended:

   hertz gebrochen: herz fest
   hertz gebrochen: herz fest

           Schottland!

         wurde ich geboren
                   mit einem
                         deutzschintellekt?
Safana Nov 2021
And, the tree beget...
The unwanted seed, why?
So, never asexually unite
Oh! Leaves-filled, dwarf
and giant trees abandon
not a seed that will grow
as a dwarf or a giant like
you, under the sun...
Let them grow and swing
under the blue beauty of
natural sunlight and sunshine
Safana Jun 2020
Did you see how

Plants give birth a baby ones
Creatural asexually multiplied
Sea elephant fly in the water
Monkeys dive into oceans
Mountains and rocks spoken
Oceans and seas crying
Sky broken into tears
Stars glimpsed at moon
Impossibles making possibles
Did you see
?????????????????

— The End —