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"atheistic" poems
Morsi stands among his people as an expression of Egypt's democratic will democratically elected his feet are rooted in the constitutional right to rule Morsi has one foot on a pillar of secular democracy promising to uphold Egypt's journey to an egalitarian future this pillar advances the republican ideal that safeguards diversity and a people's liberty to express free will this pillar brought him to office and justifies his right to rule ironically it’s also a pillar that Morsi's guiding philosphy find impossible to suffer Morsi's other foot is firmly planted on a pillar of Sharia sympathies upholding the divine foundation of his rule over this earthly principality Muslim Brotherhood’s cardinal principles undermine the pillar of secular precepts that equally enfranchise all citizens Sharia Laws allows no standing to equal rights of women, religious minorities, LGBT civil liberties and advocates suppression of atheistic and progressive political groups this has riled the democratic sympathies of the Egyptian people Morsi's actions threaten to tip the pillar of secular democracy back into the Nile’s murky waters Morsi's stance is precarious and as his feet slip he realizes he is not the Colossus of Rhodes he believed himself to be discovering it impossible to bestride the pillars supporting incompatible structures the generals have declared a road map for stability that rescinds the constitution, dissolves the parliament and places the military as sole protectorate of the nation is the preservation of a democratic republic more important than the return to the rule of a military junta?   is it more wise to place principles before personalities? Morsi’s next steps are uncertain The pathway of the people’s democratic journey remains unclear the sound of the military’s marching boots grow louder Music Selection: Sweet Honey on the Rock Marching Off to Freedom Land Oakland 070313 jbm
0
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 11:08 AM UTC
james-bradley-mccallum
Morsi's Feet
Morsi stands among his people as an expression of Egypt's democratic will democratically elected his feet are rooted in the constitutional right to rule Morsi has one foot on a pillar of secular democracy promising to uphold Egypt's journey to an egalitarian future this pillar advances the republican ideal that safeguards diversity and a people's liberty to express free will this pillar brought him to office and justifies his right to rule ironically it’s also a pillar that Morsi's guiding philosphy find impossible to suffer Morsi's other foot is firmly planted on a pillar of Sharia sympathies upholding the divine foundation of his rule over this earthly principality Muslim Brotherhood’s cardinal principles undermine the pillar of secular precepts that equally enfranchise all citizens Sharia Laws allows no standing to equal rights of women, religious minorities, LGBT civil liberties and advocates suppression of atheistic and progressive political groups this has riled the democratic sympathies of the Egyptian people Morsi's actions threaten to tip the pillar of secular democracy back into the Nile’s murky waters Morsi's stance is precarious and as his feet slip he realizes he is not the Colossus of Rhodes he believed himself to be discovering it impossible to bestride the pillars supporting incompatible structures the generals have declared a road map for stability that rescinds the constitution, dissolves the parliament and places the military as sole protectorate of the nation is the preservation of a democratic republic more important than the return to the rule of a military junta?   is it more wise to place principles before personalities? Morsi’s next steps are uncertain The pathway of the people’s democratic journey remains unclear the sound of the military’s marching boots grow louder Music Selection: Sweet Honey on the Rock Marching Off to Freedom Land Oakland 070313 jbm
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83
(the tics will talk 'til twelve o'clock) When we make time, When we listen: The theistic preach deistic talk; The atheistic preach pragmatic talk; The agnostic preach proleptic talk; The heretic preach shismatic talk; The mystic preach prophetic talk. (the mesianic and satanic never stop) When we have time; Then we listen: The optimistic teach hypnotic talk; The pessimistic teach sarcastic talk; The altruistic teach empathetic talk; The idealistic teach synergistic talk; The pacifistic teach semantic talk; The body politic teach charismatic talk; The technocratic teach robotic talk; The romantic teach poetic talk; The critic teach cathartic talk; The moralistic teach dualistic talk; The ascetic teach platonic talk. (the artist would rather not talk) When we find time, Do we listen: The lunatic speak quizzotic talk; The neurotic speak pathetic talk; The chauvanistic speak monistic talk; The nihilistic speak ballistic talk; The hedonist speak narcissistic talk; The futuristic speak galactic talk. (the minimalist hasn't the time to talk) Just don't. Look. Some tic reset the clock.
0
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
francie-lynch
Apocalyptic Talk
(the tics will talk 'til twelve o'clock) When we make time, When we listen: The theistic preach deistic talk; The atheistic preach pragmatic talk; The agnostic preach proleptic talk; The heretic preach shismatic talk; The mystic preach prophetic talk. (the mesianic and satanic never stop) When we have time; Then we listen: The optimistic teach hypnotic talk; The pessimistic teach sarcastic talk; The altruistic teach empathetic talk; The idealistic teach synergistic talk; The pacifistic teach semantic talk; The body politic teach charismatic talk; The technocratic teach robotic talk; The romantic teach poetic talk; The critic teach cathartic talk; The moralistic teach dualistic talk; The ascetic teach platonic talk. (the artist would rather not talk) When we find time, Do we listen: The lunatic speak quizzotic talk; The neurotic speak pathetic talk; The chauvanistic speak monistic talk; The nihilistic speak ballistic talk; The hedonist speak narcissistic talk; The futuristic speak galactic talk. (the minimalist hasn't the time to talk) Just don't. Look. Some tic reset the clock.
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35
i just lamented a more complex version of this; i just cannot believe we denote the same thing in order to share an understanding of the same by denoting as such, but when acting we feel so differently about it; imagine the noun iran in the mouth of an american, then picture the verbs subsequent... then imagine the noun america in the mouth of an iranian, then picture the verbs subsequent: words hold as much emotion as actions discard, even though the actions are worded, and the words are almost imaginary when concerned with what iraq was when given belshazzar. i wonder if as many people would **** or die for the noun apple, as they do for allah - say the noun apple... apple apple apple long enough... will you get apple juice? well no, so if you keep on saying the noun allah allah... will that thing materialise? the imaginary atheistic sense of the word allah, is that humanity turned the noun allah into a verb of its own chosing due to man's free will, i.e., say allah casually over coffee, now say allah in jihad clothing... the same noun among diverse verbs... might as well invent a new grammatical category of nouns and verbs mingling... nouverbs... what noun invokes what action, consolidated in what are excesses of adjectives, given the quality of a life lived - the man who casually said the noun allah in a coffee shop in denmark managed to integrate into danish society and start up a newspaper... the man in syria who "casually" said the noun allah in a coffee shop in syria didn't manage the former... because his orientation of the noun changed the path of the sequence of nouns / beheaded nuns, since the cutting of the word verb, managed to craft non-verbum-ergo-actio. in defence of avoiding one’s own mortality, one speaks against one’s own death, thus one speaks with the enemy of the people one shares a life with, for a fake chance of the feeling of prolonging.
0
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
2nd imagism
i just lamented a more complex version of this; i just cannot believe we denote the same thing in order to share an understanding of the same by denoting as such, but when acting we feel so differently about it; imagine the noun iran in the mouth of an american, then picture the verbs subsequent... then imagine the noun america in the mouth of an iranian, then picture the verbs subsequent: words hold as much emotion as actions discard, even though the actions are worded, and the words are almost imaginary when concerned with what iraq was when given belshazzar. i wonder if as many people would **** or die for the noun apple, as they do for allah - say the noun apple... apple apple apple long enough... will you get apple juice? well no, so if you keep on saying the noun allah allah... will that thing materialise? the imaginary atheistic sense of the word allah, is that humanity turned the noun allah into a verb of its own chosing due to man's free will, i.e., say allah casually over coffee, now say allah in jihad clothing... the same noun among diverse verbs... might as well invent a new grammatical category of nouns and verbs mingling... nouverbs... what noun invokes what action, consolidated in what are excesses of adjectives, given the quality of a life lived - the man who casually said the noun allah in a coffee shop in denmark managed to integrate into danish society and start up a newspaper... the man in syria who "casually" said the noun allah in a coffee shop in syria didn't manage the former... because his orientation of the noun changed the path of the sequence of nouns / beheaded nuns, since the cutting of the word verb, managed to craft non-verbum-ergo-actio. in defence of avoiding one’s own mortality, one speaks against one’s own death, thus one speaks with the enemy of the people one shares a life with, for a fake chance of the feeling of prolonging.
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31
*adverts and the internet medium:     d'uh... you forgot the capacity   of the mute button...                     wha'? wha'?                                                audi tt? (let's expand on the title: geometry (Y) the three dimensions, and trigonometry (W)... cosine rule, i.e. how three-dimensional space behaves).* i was born in the late 20th century, and, right now,                    i'm seeing the "problem" you thought jews in europe were the problem...               ever read anything           on the subject of kabbalah? i can only reply with sepultura's:                       ra-ta-ma'h-hatta'h... **** me, the tetragrammaton feels like licking a pharaoh's toes in linguistic terms... *and there are always four,             to ensure there's one*.                but at least the aztec pyramids were not burial grounds, or burial monuments, rather, sites of capital punishment...    which the conquistadors misunderstood! only the whites know the concept of ethno-masochism.                       by common-tongue standards so thoroughly expressed with    the desired eloquence, stated, already. social sciences are a disease                             in terms of science per se...      why isn't there a divine intervention         story with regards to the aztec pyramids? **** me and the scaffold!              the largest bird on earth,      and instead of flying off,                 it sticks its head into the earth to "hide".                           that's pushing it... that's saying the non-existence of god is based upon the non-existence of a good joke;           i just don't think he needs to be revered...                  but obviously people have other plans...           never mind the comedian...    mind the moloch;    so they pray, and pray, and ask, and plead, and end up looking like amassed lunatics...    they demand praying...    me? i demand of myself thinking about him... hard to think about nothing,    if i were thinking about nothing,           i simply would be, not thinking;   and you'd probably find me:                                                  painting. but **** me, aztec pyramids didn't receive a divine intervention    but the egyptian pyramids did...    clearly the aztec pyramids weren't vanity projects akin to burial sites / tombs...           clearly...              sites of enforcing capital punishment; years later mis-translated by conquistadors...   and in militant atheistic form...                                               said: retarted.
0
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 3:09 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
aztec pyramids ('h'h catch vowels! / laugh)
*adverts and the internet medium:     d'uh... you forgot the capacity   of the mute button...                     wha'? wha'?                                                audi tt? (let's expand on the title: geometry (Y) the three dimensions, and trigonometry (W)... cosine rule, i.e. how three-dimensional space behaves).* i was born in the late 20th century, and, right now,                    i'm seeing the "problem" you thought jews in europe were the problem...               ever read anything           on the subject of kabbalah? i can only reply with sepultura's:                       ra-ta-ma'h-hatta'h... **** me, the tetragrammaton feels like licking a pharaoh's toes in linguistic terms... *and there are always four,             to ensure there's one*.                but at least the aztec pyramids were not burial grounds, or burial monuments, rather, sites of capital punishment...    which the conquistadors misunderstood! only the whites know the concept of ethno-masochism.                       by common-tongue standards so thoroughly expressed with    the desired eloquence, stated, already. social sciences are a disease                             in terms of science per se...      why isn't there a divine intervention         story with regards to the aztec pyramids? **** me and the scaffold!              the largest bird on earth,      and instead of flying off,                 it sticks its head into the earth to "hide".                           that's pushing it... that's saying the non-existence of god is based upon the non-existence of a good joke;           i just don't think he needs to be revered...                  but obviously people have other plans...           never mind the comedian...    mind the moloch;    so they pray, and pray, and ask, and plead, and end up looking like amassed lunatics...    they demand praying...    me? i demand of myself thinking about him... hard to think about nothing,    if i were thinking about nothing,           i simply would be, not thinking;   and you'd probably find me:                                                  painting. but **** me, aztec pyramids didn't receive a divine intervention    but the egyptian pyramids did...    clearly the aztec pyramids weren't vanity projects akin to burial sites / tombs...           clearly...              sites of enforcing capital punishment; years later mis-translated by conquistadors...   and in militant atheistic form...                                               said: retarted.
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69
Strings. Our world is never going to be enough. We want to know what's beyond, what comes after, what was before, and I 'm no different, don't get me wrong. So, we have a robot flying threw space about to land on Mars. We have Christians praying to their God and Muslims to theirs. We have Atheists being Atheistic and Satanist being Satanic. Punks are acting punk like and triple X-ers are passing the blunt right back. We have scientists trying to cure cancer and theoretical physicists trying to understand dark matter. We have you and I trying to work things out. why. What really is the point. There are a select few things I am absolutely sure of. I am alive. I am going to die. I love you. why. Why don't I just die already?
0
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 12:35 AM UTC
jeremy-duff
Mars.
Strings. Our world is never going to be enough. We want to know what's beyond, what comes after, what was before, and I 'm no different, don't get me wrong. So, we have a robot flying threw space about to land on Mars. We have Christians praying to their God and Muslims to theirs. We have Atheists being Atheistic and Satanist being Satanic. Punks are acting punk like and triple X-ers are passing the blunt right back. We have scientists trying to cure cancer and theoretical physicists trying to understand dark matter. We have you and I trying to work things out. why. What really is the point. There are a select few things I am absolutely sure of. I am alive. I am going to die. I love you. why. Why don't I just die already?
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20
I avoid writing poems about flowers I don’t need to tell you that roses Bright, blood red, placed perfectly atop a broccoli-green vine, Existing solely for the purpose of atheistic pleasure Is something that is beautiful Put a white background behind anything and it becomes beautiful Flowers are more than a hyped-up beauty pageant queen that those old white women grow to fill their voids with They sometimes manage to grow in my neighborhood too Once prominent Victorian homes now squalid and neglected Weathered wood, dirt embedded in the sea-foam green, navy blue, eggshell white paint they were once coated with Trash thrown in front of their faces Like their appalling forms granted validity for those who passed by to toss their gum wrappers, soda cans, and cigarettes without hesitation It’s an age-old tale Ugly things deserve ugly treatment I’ll always spot a savage grove of mutt flowers Amongst the trash cans and recycle bins Struggling to make their way to the surface of these rejected homes Acknowledging them, coddling them, interweaving themselves along their battered walls Ignorant to their repugnancy Eager to decorate and give them an evanescent glow Sad too, Sad they didn’t grow in front of some rich family’s home Where they would’ve been given weekly haircuts and fertilizer containing only the best **** on the market They wilt a little They have no direction, No will to live or to die They exist and sit there until a bike runs them over And takes them out in one swoop Or until those stray dogs **** and **** on them until their weak Frames fall staunchly onto the grave sidewalk Exquisite wild lepers, You do more for society than I ever could You’ll sit there with a dutiful posture Harboring old McDonald French Fry boxes Eating the sewer-infested dirt that you laboriously grew from Constantly breathing air swarmed with smog Beautiful because, Despite it all, You don’t hate them You’ll peek at me through your prison of trash and give me a flash of your purple and blue skin And My eyes feel your love and serenity And for a moment, The world is nothing but a kaleidoscope of warm skin and heartbeats
0
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 11:06 AM UTC
sinandpoems
What I think is beautiful
I avoid writing poems about flowers I don’t need to tell you that roses Bright, blood red, placed perfectly atop a broccoli-green vine, Existing solely for the purpose of atheistic pleasure Is something that is beautiful Put a white background behind anything and it becomes beautiful Flowers are more than a hyped-up beauty pageant queen that those old white women grow to fill their voids with They sometimes manage to grow in my neighborhood too Once prominent Victorian homes now squalid and neglected Weathered wood, dirt embedded in the sea-foam green, navy blue, eggshell white paint they were once coated with Trash thrown in front of their faces Like their appalling forms granted validity for those who passed by to toss their gum wrappers, soda cans, and cigarettes without hesitation It’s an age-old tale Ugly things deserve ugly treatment I’ll always spot a savage grove of mutt flowers Amongst the trash cans and recycle bins Struggling to make their way to the surface of these rejected homes Acknowledging them, coddling them, interweaving themselves along their battered walls Ignorant to their repugnancy Eager to decorate and give them an evanescent glow Sad too, Sad they didn’t grow in front of some rich family’s home Where they would’ve been given weekly haircuts and fertilizer containing only the best **** on the market They wilt a little They have no direction, No will to live or to die They exist and sit there until a bike runs them over And takes them out in one swoop Or until those stray dogs **** and **** on them until their weak Frames fall staunchly onto the grave sidewalk Exquisite wild lepers, You do more for society than I ever could You’ll sit there with a dutiful posture Harboring old McDonald French Fry boxes Eating the sewer-infested dirt that you laboriously grew from Constantly breathing air swarmed with smog Beautiful because, Despite it all, You don’t hate them You’ll peek at me through your prison of trash and give me a flash of your purple and blue skin And My eyes feel your love and serenity And for a moment, The world is nothing but a kaleidoscope of warm skin and heartbeats
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44
One of many apologetic arguments is an application of Game Theory, as defined by “Pascal’s Wager”; ideas of infinite gain make leery skeptics doubt a likely existence of an omnipotent and omniscient God, Who is worthy of our time and talent. They believe this premise is flawed, as they willingly bet against Hell, damnation and its infinite losses; the discussion, of rational thought and atheistic stances, crisscrosses mental boundaries in search of Truth. Is finite loss of luxury and pleasure worth the Christian lifestyle today? Where are you storing your treasures? . . . Author notes Inspired by: Gen 1; Matt 6:19-20 and More info on Wikipedia Learn more about me and my poetry at: Amazon By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
0
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 5:20 PM UTC
joseph-j-breunig-3rd
Poem: Pascal’s Wager
One of many apologetic arguments is an application of Game Theory, as defined by “Pascal’s Wager”; ideas of infinite gain make leery skeptics doubt a likely existence of an omnipotent and omniscient God, Who is worthy of our time and talent. They believe this premise is flawed, as they willingly bet against Hell, damnation and its infinite losses; the discussion, of rational thought and atheistic stances, crisscrosses mental boundaries in search of Truth. Is finite loss of luxury and pleasure worth the Christian lifestyle today? Where are you storing your treasures? . . . Author notes Inspired by: Gen 1; Matt 6:19-20 and More info on Wikipedia Learn more about me and my poetry at: Amazon By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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26
to a beginning no one has dug far enough or searched their souls long enough nor has been ever a man who lived as long as Moses, or caused more  doubts than Mephistopheles. Don't get me wrong, I am religious, in a vaporous way, I see apples as figs and floods as myths. Reminisces cloud my atheistic thoughts. Day to day according to the sun shines or cloudiness. And steam rises from my breath, at times. When I feel so alone, and coldness closes around, I doubt  my doubts. I seek God to speed healing when a loved one is in need. I am first off, an honest hypocrite. I would sell my soul for Peace. I see the new day, sometimes, kneel down in prayer. My question remains as I say, Amen, for what. And to whom?
0
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
meminei
of origins
to a beginning no one has dug far enough or searched their souls long enough nor has been ever a man who lived as long as Moses, or caused more  doubts than Mephistopheles. Don't get me wrong, I am religious, in a vaporous way, I see apples as figs and floods as myths. Reminisces cloud my atheistic thoughts. Day to day according to the sun shines or cloudiness. And steam rises from my breath, at times. When I feel so alone, and coldness closes around, I doubt  my doubts. I seek God to speed healing when a loved one is in need. I am first off, an honest hypocrite. I would sell my soul for Peace. I see the new day, sometimes, kneel down in prayer. My question remains as I say, Amen, for what. And to whom?
Continue reading...
13
An anxious amortal archnemesis affectionately allowing an amoral animosity achieve an attitudal agressive and aversion against any and all annoying, aggravating, afflicting, and almost annihilating alliterations, although all aforementioned actions are absolutely artificial. An amiable abomination and architectural abuse at an alphabet achieved after aesthetically arranging ample arbitrary alternatives alone, amounting an acclamation. An affinity at awkward avante-garde arts arising at an astronomical acceleration, aside an archaic argumentum ad antiquitatem argument awfully appraising an atheistic and agnostic apparition, anthrophomorphically alive and apparently alright after asphyxiation, alluding an astral authority absolving accusations and all allegations. An advantageously astute and adroit assassin always actively acting and assaulting alone, ain't assisted anyhow, already antiquating auxillaries altogether. An alliteratious afterfocus: Aborting all anticipations. Anticipating affirmative antagonizations. All are alright. Already airtight. Adios, amigos. Author: anonymous, an acorn-afflicted, assassinatrix affiliate. attributed as Agent Argent.
0
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 11:54 AM UTC
KRRW
An Anatopically Anachronistic Alliteratious Anecdote About Animositous Archnemetic Antagonizations
An anxious amortal archnemesis affectionately allowing an amoral animosity achieve an attitudal agressive and aversion against any and all annoying, aggravating, afflicting, and almost annihilating alliterations, although all aforementioned actions are absolutely artificial. An amiable abomination and architectural abuse at an alphabet achieved after aesthetically arranging ample arbitrary alternatives alone, amounting an acclamation. An affinity at awkward avante-garde arts arising at an astronomical acceleration, aside an archaic argumentum ad antiquitatem argument awfully appraising an atheistic and agnostic apparition, anthrophomorphically alive and apparently alright after asphyxiation, alluding an astral authority absolving accusations and all allegations. An advantageously astute and adroit assassin always actively acting and assaulting alone, ain't assisted anyhow, already antiquating auxillaries altogether. An alliteratious afterfocus: Aborting all anticipations. Anticipating affirmative antagonizations. All are alright. Already airtight. Adios, amigos. Author: anonymous, an acorn-afflicted, assassinatrix affiliate. attributed as Agent Argent.
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61
I knelt beside my bed last night looked at the crucifix above it and pretended it was God. Truth be told it’s a ceramic cross that I was taught to believe in. Stare at it, confess your sins, absolution is yours. And that’s what prayer is. I spent 12 years in Catholic schools. School taught me little about God, Other than how to recite the Our Father And why I should remain a ****** til marriage. As well as how lucky I was To have my parents pay for my schooling Just so I could say prayers I didn’t understand out loud. My parents worked hard For my sister and I to wear uniforms and say the rosary 5 times more a year than we would have. I wasn’t taught faith Or how to seek kindness. I was told to accept Catholicism Or risk damnation. My family went to church every Sunday. We said grace before our meals, And we thanked God for food we bought ourselves. This sounds atheistic. But it isn’t. Because I believe in God. However I do not believe in ignorance. I do not believe in hate. I do not believe in discrimination. Three things the Catholic Church practices. I’ve never believed that saying “fuck” Was a one way ticket to hell. I never believed that missing mass Would be more suffering I’d endure in purgatory. I believe in a God That accepts us For everything that we are. A God that will not mind if We didn’t spend an extra hour Kneeling in a pew Listening to another human Preach to us HIS interpretation Of a book None of us will ever Fully Understand. I don’t believe in a tall man With a long beard. I believe in a young girl with brown eyes. I believe in an oak tree that’s branches have Seen more than I ever will. I believe in everything. Because God is everything. I’ll kneel by my bed tonight And look at my ceiling. Because my ceiling is as good as any crucifix. I’ll say my prayer For everyone Who recites their Bible Fears God And squeezes their rosary tight In hopes that it will give them something They’ve always been lacking. Faith.
0
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
alexis-mayer
Sacreligion
I knelt beside my bed last night looked at the crucifix above it and pretended it was God. Truth be told it’s a ceramic cross that I was taught to believe in. Stare at it, confess your sins, absolution is yours. And that’s what prayer is. I spent 12 years in Catholic schools. School taught me little about God, Other than how to recite the Our Father And why I should remain a ****** til marriage. As well as how lucky I was To have my parents pay for my schooling Just so I could say prayers I didn’t understand out loud. My parents worked hard For my sister and I to wear uniforms and say the rosary 5 times more a year than we would have. I wasn’t taught faith Or how to seek kindness. I was told to accept Catholicism Or risk damnation. My family went to church every Sunday. We said grace before our meals, And we thanked God for food we bought ourselves. This sounds atheistic. But it isn’t. Because I believe in God. However I do not believe in ignorance. I do not believe in hate. I do not believe in discrimination. Three things the Catholic Church practices. I’ve never believed that saying “fuck” Was a one way ticket to hell. I never believed that missing mass Would be more suffering I’d endure in purgatory. I believe in a God That accepts us For everything that we are. A God that will not mind if We didn’t spend an extra hour Kneeling in a pew Listening to another human Preach to us HIS interpretation Of a book None of us will ever Fully Understand. I don’t believe in a tall man With a long beard. I believe in a young girl with brown eyes. I believe in an oak tree that’s branches have Seen more than I ever will. I believe in everything. Because God is everything. I’ll kneel by my bed tonight And look at my ceiling. Because my ceiling is as good as any crucifix. I’ll say my prayer For everyone Who recites their Bible Fears God And squeezes their rosary tight In hopes that it will give them something They’ve always been lacking. Faith.
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65
i wasn't satisfied with the cartesian                                                                  cogito ergo sum...                 it's not that i couldn't stomach it, it was just:               not enough? people claim that maxim to be the source of all subjectivity,           and there's nothing objective about it.       all this modern talk of subject vs. object, i had to employ a θήσαύρύς.       i needed a square... a solomon's star, two squares encompassed against each other, nothing akin to the star of david... i mean solomon's star, of two squares imposed on each other, layered so you get an oκτάγωνον oktágōnon oh **** a macron over an omicron = an omega!                                   oh k'tah goo non...       wait wait... i was going to write something concrete, and yes, it was based on solomon's star...              6 things -      cogito                              sum subjectivity                        objectivity            king david (6)      reflexive                           reflective    thinking = subjectivity = the reflective     thinking = subjectivity = the reflexive       thinking = objectivity = the reflective     thinking = objectivity = the reflexive         king solomon (8)      being = subjectivity = the reflective        being = subjectivity = the reflexive       being = objectivity = the reflective               being = objectivity = the reflexive (alt. given the atheistic scissors of definite / indefinite articles of the / a a reflex, a reflection) what this means is, what's generally thought of as the tetragrammaton, but it's not four letters,     it's the interpolation of the four main faculties, that are now seen as tripling up, or call them: cubed; a lament configuration representation.           thinking is subjective in that it is also reflective   (the narcissus bias)      thinking is subjective in that it is also reflexive      (i need a shave)      thinking is objective in that it is also reflective        (i am ageing)    thinking is objective in that it is also reflexive           (i'll just stop looking into a mirror)... dear apologies for the geometry of the arrangement                               of words, i know you'd love to see a tartan pattern               of interchange, but this **** seems rigid, in the way    that i wrote it... i couldn't find a way to write a b a b                      as stated, it only came out as a a b b,                             or a b c a b c         rather a a b b c c. but do you see what is even more fascinating than numbers?     the arithmetic symbols... arithmetic symbols are very much akin to diacritical symbols...               i write an over-simplification of a concept using =, and then all these conjunctional words pop up!    and yes, in terms of citing heidegger as opposed to         descartes      there's a great disparity between                           being     and i am -                           self-evident,       being = the sum, a total, Σ, while      i am? it's a unitary representation of the total (sum / sigma)     of the possible mode of being -        it's also called ego interference / pronoun inteference              in the conceptualisation of the cascade that's ergo                             into the basin that's dasein. what philosophy call metaphysics?                          linguistics call orthography...                                  what chemists call para- positioning on                      a benzene ring;                                          or what non-chemists call the paranormal.
0
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 1:31 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
i needed a square / θήσαύρύς
i wasn't satisfied with the cartesian                                                                  cogito ergo sum...                 it's not that i couldn't stomach it, it was just:               not enough? people claim that maxim to be the source of all subjectivity,           and there's nothing objective about it.       all this modern talk of subject vs. object, i had to employ a θήσαύρύς.       i needed a square... a solomon's star, two squares encompassed against each other, nothing akin to the star of david... i mean solomon's star, of two squares imposed on each other, layered so you get an oκτάγωνον oktágōnon oh **** a macron over an omicron = an omega!                                   oh k'tah goo non...       wait wait... i was going to write something concrete, and yes, it was based on solomon's star...              6 things -      cogito                              sum subjectivity                        objectivity            king david (6)      reflexive                           reflective    thinking = subjectivity = the reflective     thinking = subjectivity = the reflexive       thinking = objectivity = the reflective     thinking = objectivity = the reflexive         king solomon (8)      being = subjectivity = the reflective        being = subjectivity = the reflexive       being = objectivity = the reflective               being = objectivity = the reflexive (alt. given the atheistic scissors of definite / indefinite articles of the / a a reflex, a reflection) what this means is, what's generally thought of as the tetragrammaton, but it's not four letters,     it's the interpolation of the four main faculties, that are now seen as tripling up, or call them: cubed; a lament configuration representation.           thinking is subjective in that it is also reflective   (the narcissus bias)      thinking is subjective in that it is also reflexive      (i need a shave)      thinking is objective in that it is also reflective        (i am ageing)    thinking is objective in that it is also reflexive           (i'll just stop looking into a mirror)... dear apologies for the geometry of the arrangement                               of words, i know you'd love to see a tartan pattern               of interchange, but this **** seems rigid, in the way    that i wrote it... i couldn't find a way to write a b a b                      as stated, it only came out as a a b b,                             or a b c a b c         rather a a b b c c. but do you see what is even more fascinating than numbers?     the arithmetic symbols... arithmetic symbols are very much akin to diacritical symbols...               i write an over-simplification of a concept using =, and then all these conjunctional words pop up!    and yes, in terms of citing heidegger as opposed to         descartes      there's a great disparity between                           being     and i am -                           self-evident,       being = the sum, a total, Σ, while      i am? it's a unitary representation of the total (sum / sigma)     of the possible mode of being -        it's also called ego interference / pronoun inteference              in the conceptualisation of the cascade that's ergo                             into the basin that's dasein. what philosophy call metaphysics?                          linguistics call orthography...                                  what chemists call para- positioning on                      a benzene ring;                                          or what non-chemists call the paranormal.
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72
*philosophy: and yes, we all believed in the insane asylum in the first place... at least the theists are suicidal... the atheists are hanging-on, mundane boors... listening to atheists is like listening to someone trying to erradicate the thesaurus... like someone trying to sharpen a staff... atheism is case of: stoppage of synonyms... because no philosophy book i've read invokes grammatical words, i.e. nouns, verbs... no argument in this direction is cool... the *** knows Tai Chi... i'm just waiting for a ******* to say it's Chinese!* and beyond the counter to worship, the atheistic argument is bound to a lot of talk and thought... when atheism does do much away with prayer... then secularism does... let's just say: acknowledge the idiot...    either pray... or think or talk     and subsequently acknowledge that sort of ultimatum...        i can't agree on either pathos...                     pray... or talk... find enough Goebbels, and you'll find enough like-minded manifestos   of Englishmen...                    and esp. Jews attired as such... cos you weren't gangraped enough. if you were a friend of a friend... and a friend that said: biology... via the pharaoh's gambit...                     you still wouldn't consecrate their friendship over a steak, but you would. atheists don't have an argument, they still abide to arguing his existence, by thinking about him, or talking about him, prayer seems the most lazy escapism to the caged compensated comparison, given we're all caged... and escapist... and bound to escapism...    you construct the pyramids! you do!     a bunch of quasi intellectuals!     plainly stated: brick on brick! you lay it down: down to: a word on word!   i can have an argument...    but i can't be even bothered to keep it...   it just gets boring after a while, and given that i'm not keeping the argument for a way to shove food down my mouth...       i just think atheism exists because we have transcended so many natural obstacles... personally? i'd rather hear a tsunami quake than hear an atheist talk...           and that's because so few of us will have the actual argument in this stratosphere... since most of us will probably rather the thrill of a tornado... than a **** on our daily commute...   even the Frankenstein monster will be more attractive in experience than the roudabout of an atheist...        women are least likely to champion atheism... might be a quest for feeling...                  with all the pathology...                  rather than that other quest for feeling: apathy...   and that's really, truly, manly. can we simply prescribe one label: i think? no... evidently we need many more labels.
0
Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 11:46 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
it demands a vague faith: intellectuals who don't labour / son of a roofer
*philosophy: and yes, we all believed in the insane asylum in the first place... at least the theists are suicidal... the atheists are hanging-on, mundane boors... listening to atheists is like listening to someone trying to erradicate the thesaurus... like someone trying to sharpen a staff... atheism is case of: stoppage of synonyms... because no philosophy book i've read invokes grammatical words, i.e. nouns, verbs... no argument in this direction is cool... the *** knows Tai Chi... i'm just waiting for a ******* to say it's Chinese!* and beyond the counter to worship, the atheistic argument is bound to a lot of talk and thought... when atheism does do much away with prayer... then secularism does... let's just say: acknowledge the idiot...    either pray... or think or talk     and subsequently acknowledge that sort of ultimatum...        i can't agree on either pathos...                     pray... or talk... find enough Goebbels, and you'll find enough like-minded manifestos   of Englishmen...                    and esp. Jews attired as such... cos you weren't gangraped enough. if you were a friend of a friend... and a friend that said: biology... via the pharaoh's gambit...                     you still wouldn't consecrate their friendship over a steak, but you would. atheists don't have an argument, they still abide to arguing his existence, by thinking about him, or talking about him, prayer seems the most lazy escapism to the caged compensated comparison, given we're all caged... and escapist... and bound to escapism...    you construct the pyramids! you do!     a bunch of quasi intellectuals!     plainly stated: brick on brick! you lay it down: down to: a word on word!   i can have an argument...    but i can't be even bothered to keep it...   it just gets boring after a while, and given that i'm not keeping the argument for a way to shove food down my mouth...       i just think atheism exists because we have transcended so many natural obstacles... personally? i'd rather hear a tsunami quake than hear an atheist talk...           and that's because so few of us will have the actual argument in this stratosphere... since most of us will probably rather the thrill of a tornado... than a **** on our daily commute...   even the Frankenstein monster will be more attractive in experience than the roudabout of an atheist...        women are least likely to champion atheism... might be a quest for feeling...                  with all the pathology...                  rather than that other quest for feeling: apathy...   and that's really, truly, manly. can we simply prescribe one label: i think? no... evidently we need many more labels.
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58
I'm confused by the caustic whispers What I do, I do for love, they say I'm profane. Of course I'm atheistic, I'm under the dome of this upset city with my badge and gun, what do they expect, my broken home? I of all the answers, answers, I have none. I know their caustic whispers well because I am one of the inimical voices spraying my name. My name is in lights, while I wanted this, I never asked I never asked, but now my brain is awake and I'm profane.
0
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 11:37 PM UTC
ZeroNine
The Drama of Miriam Marcus: Caustic Whispers (Profane)
I'm confused by the caustic whispers What I do, I do for love, they say I'm profane. Of course I'm atheistic, I'm under the dome of this upset city with my badge and gun, what do they expect, my broken home? I of all the answers, answers, I have none. I know their caustic whispers well because I am one of the inimical voices spraying my name. My name is in lights, while I wanted this, I never asked I never asked, but now my brain is awake and I'm profane.
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19
certain words don't provide adequate ontological modes, they provide ontological medians or means, but not modes, for example, a good comparison would be to compare two words, only two words: a. atheism              and b. apathy. dissect the words during a syllable cut as a meaningful prefix, in both examples that's a-, what do you get? a- (without) god (/ theology), contradictory given that atheism is a type of theology, a logic to disprove the existence of something, but it's still a theology of some sort, now the second example: a- (without) pathology (/ailments of range whether phobias or their antonyms, psychological constructs that are stressed more prominently than serious pains that leave everyone psychologically paralysed by that parasite of pain). in terms of ontology, in simpler terms simply qua, which is more important in human affairs? qua apathetic or qua atheistic? personally? i think the former - there are more obstructions in the former's rubric of obstructions than in the latter's, given that it's a rarity to be suddenly struck down with plagues and prophetic ailments of ill fate... i don't care how cool it looks, to be an atheist, you could only be a true atheist if you were illiterate and couldn't use the alphabet (that old chestnut from the book of genesis, in the beginning there was word, and the word was god), or if you were part of that famous experiment done by frederick ii hohenstaufen where a bunch of children were raised in a phonetic celibacy by nuns, just to prove what language was spoken first; well the experiment conclusively produced a bunch of mutes... i guess extending the experiment's parameters to animals would never work: try forcing a cat to bark, as many vanities of "proven reasons" died when kublai khan moved the horde east without due respect for peace-loving mongolians.
0
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
the frederick ii hohenstaufen linguistic experiment
certain words don't provide adequate ontological modes, they provide ontological medians or means, but not modes, for example, a good comparison would be to compare two words, only two words: a. atheism              and b. apathy. dissect the words during a syllable cut as a meaningful prefix, in both examples that's a-, what do you get? a- (without) god (/ theology), contradictory given that atheism is a type of theology, a logic to disprove the existence of something, but it's still a theology of some sort, now the second example: a- (without) pathology (/ailments of range whether phobias or their antonyms, psychological constructs that are stressed more prominently than serious pains that leave everyone psychologically paralysed by that parasite of pain). in terms of ontology, in simpler terms simply qua, which is more important in human affairs? qua apathetic or qua atheistic? personally? i think the former - there are more obstructions in the former's rubric of obstructions than in the latter's, given that it's a rarity to be suddenly struck down with plagues and prophetic ailments of ill fate... i don't care how cool it looks, to be an atheist, you could only be a true atheist if you were illiterate and couldn't use the alphabet (that old chestnut from the book of genesis, in the beginning there was word, and the word was god), or if you were part of that famous experiment done by frederick ii hohenstaufen where a bunch of children were raised in a phonetic celibacy by nuns, just to prove what language was spoken first; well the experiment conclusively produced a bunch of mutes... i guess extending the experiment's parameters to animals would never work: try forcing a cat to bark, as many vanities of "proven reasons" died when kublai khan moved the horde east without due respect for peace-loving mongolians.
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48
*a patient walks into a doctor's office and says: - doctor, doctor, i'm suffering from diabolical laughter! doctor replies: - just keep on laughing.* they're really truly atheists on an atomic level, the more they try to live outside of nature, and glorify it, the more damnable they come: put them peering into a microscope or a telescope the more their audacity builds up, but when an earthquake, but when an earthquake, when a storm, when a hurricane, all the intellectuals disperse, the pathetic state of drowning, the pathetic state of any form of suffering, you'll only find atheistic audacity among biologists, chemists and physicists the middle-men of argumentation, biology appeals to the general public, as expressed by confusion in the ***** region of things... transgender this, transgender that, the ploy of the heterosexual: it's only natural via a surrogate mother, and a human heart grown in a pig's body... while chemists construct the next ester of shampoo or fishy bacon, or the next biggie boom boom, while physicists are out there with the quote: now i'm become death, the destroyer of worlds, but can't stop the moon in its tract... or bother with the near apparent biggie boom boom of saltpetre, sulphur and charcoal, they make the explosions too big... too much of a Hiroshima, too much of a Nagasaki... Hollywood is still dreaming of the Manhattan Project, it's constantly terrorising america... Hollywood is constantly out on a Jihad to culture-corrupt with a constant sense of paranoia... it's always destroying cities... big **** monsters or some odd german accented 'simon says, simon says...' but they changed location, now double-decker buses are exploding on parliament bridge... so the kids know of it, a day late, a day after the explosion on twitter. or as i once said, when that famous tsunami hit japan... 'where was the army dropping bombs on the wave to disperse it and disallow its movement onto the mainland? they could have bombed that wave into oblivion... instead some other army, in some other country decided it required a tsunami of blood to pour into other countries via the streams of journalism.'
0
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 3:19 AM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
not siding with biologists
*a patient walks into a doctor's office and says: - doctor, doctor, i'm suffering from diabolical laughter! doctor replies: - just keep on laughing.* they're really truly atheists on an atomic level, the more they try to live outside of nature, and glorify it, the more damnable they come: put them peering into a microscope or a telescope the more their audacity builds up, but when an earthquake, but when an earthquake, when a storm, when a hurricane, all the intellectuals disperse, the pathetic state of drowning, the pathetic state of any form of suffering, you'll only find atheistic audacity among biologists, chemists and physicists the middle-men of argumentation, biology appeals to the general public, as expressed by confusion in the ***** region of things... transgender this, transgender that, the ploy of the heterosexual: it's only natural via a surrogate mother, and a human heart grown in a pig's body... while chemists construct the next ester of shampoo or fishy bacon, or the next biggie boom boom, while physicists are out there with the quote: now i'm become death, the destroyer of worlds, but can't stop the moon in its tract... or bother with the near apparent biggie boom boom of saltpetre, sulphur and charcoal, they make the explosions too big... too much of a Hiroshima, too much of a Nagasaki... Hollywood is still dreaming of the Manhattan Project, it's constantly terrorising america... Hollywood is constantly out on a Jihad to culture-corrupt with a constant sense of paranoia... it's always destroying cities... big **** monsters or some odd german accented 'simon says, simon says...' but they changed location, now double-decker buses are exploding on parliament bridge... so the kids know of it, a day late, a day after the explosion on twitter. or as i once said, when that famous tsunami hit japan... 'where was the army dropping bombs on the wave to disperse it and disallow its movement onto the mainland? they could have bombed that wave into oblivion... instead some other army, in some other country decided it required a tsunami of blood to pour into other countries via the streams of journalism.'
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60
what is poetic function? the purpose of the muse? can what poets labor at be of any earthly use? here we sit and ponder nature's beauty found our muse will make us wander and take us off the ground we soar o'r the canyons we have ne'r seen she depicts the colors orange, red and yellow green she controls the vertical the horizontal, too she'll wrench from you heartache make you write the blues she'll give you the music write notes upon your brain then when she has done it words are written in refrains sometimes it's the opposite the lyrics are rehearsed then music flows out from them and the process is reversed sometimes she is whimsical sometimes she is deep sometimes the best poetry is written in our sleep sometimes she is joyful sometimes full of angst sometimes she will teach us sometimes she pulls pranks she takes us to the seashore she takes us to the park she gives us the penknife to carve our words on bark she takes us to countries to see folk starving there she takes us to ghettos so we can write despair she rides the horsehead nebula she straddles the moon she lassoes the stars she brightens up the gloom she sorts all the words out in our poor wee minds sometimes we get ideas from the words our muse will find she may talk of God's things to draw people nigh Him or she may be atheistic and urge us to deny Him but she's always relevant even though she's lazy you may think her strange you may say she's crazy she'll talk to poets softly love's passion to want or she'll scream and rage! she'll come on in a rant! but any way she manifests beauty clothes her form even though she's naked as the day that she was born let her grow and nurture her she'll come up like a tree but do not try to cage her she'll always break free! in that case you're without her you'll have trouble then! you'll ball up your paper and throw away your pen! so, be kind to sister muse feed her goodly things you'll have found poems abound *she will give you WINGS!* so what's poetry's purpose when all is said and done? *TO TAKE OTHERS WITH YOU!* then my friends YOU'VE WON! SoulSurvivor (C) 1/29/2016
0
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 9:29 PM UTC
SoulSurvivor
the purpose of the muse
what is poetic function? the purpose of the muse? can what poets labor at be of any earthly use? here we sit and ponder nature's beauty found our muse will make us wander and take us off the ground we soar o'r the canyons we have ne'r seen she depicts the colors orange, red and yellow green she controls the vertical the horizontal, too she'll wrench from you heartache make you write the blues she'll give you the music write notes upon your brain then when she has done it words are written in refrains sometimes it's the opposite the lyrics are rehearsed then music flows out from them and the process is reversed sometimes she is whimsical sometimes she is deep sometimes the best poetry is written in our sleep sometimes she is joyful sometimes full of angst sometimes she will teach us sometimes she pulls pranks she takes us to the seashore she takes us to the park she gives us the penknife to carve our words on bark she takes us to countries to see folk starving there she takes us to ghettos so we can write despair she rides the horsehead nebula she straddles the moon she lassoes the stars she brightens up the gloom she sorts all the words out in our poor wee minds sometimes we get ideas from the words our muse will find she may talk of God's things to draw people nigh Him or she may be atheistic and urge us to deny Him but she's always relevant even though she's lazy you may think her strange you may say she's crazy she'll talk to poets softly love's passion to want or she'll scream and rage! she'll come on in a rant! but any way she manifests beauty clothes her form even though she's naked as the day that she was born let her grow and nurture her she'll come up like a tree but do not try to cage her she'll always break free! in that case you're without her you'll have trouble then! you'll ball up your paper and throw away your pen! so, be kind to sister muse feed her goodly things you'll have found poems abound *she will give you WINGS!* so what's poetry's purpose when all is said and done? *TO TAKE OTHERS WITH YOU!* then my friends YOU'VE WON! SoulSurvivor (C) 1/29/2016
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86
All religions might well be right and we should cower in God-fueled fright but I would rather spend my days In an atheistic craze not sinning because that **** is lame not because I fear the flame of some post-apocalyptic hell administered by a ne'er do well who once was God's holy best but asked and so's no longer blessed i don't need authority to tell me what should be should be i look at my fellow man not the bible or quran it's obvious whats good and bad and not a power play or fad don't be a **** and don't sell hate all will be well (even if you believe in fate)
0
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
mandala-lama
religious, right?
All religions might well be right and we should cower in God-fueled fright but I would rather spend my days In an atheistic craze not sinning because that **** is lame not because I fear the flame of some post-apocalyptic hell administered by a ne'er do well who once was God's holy best but asked and so's no longer blessed i don't need authority to tell me what should be should be i look at my fellow man not the bible or quran it's obvious whats good and bad and not a power play or fad don't be a **** and don't sell hate all will be well (even if you believe in fate)
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18
Abandon all hope Ye who enter my domain For once you go in There's no leaving my brain A relic of the darkest age Gothic bells of Notre Dame My atheistic serenade My faithless roaring lion cage My phantom of the opera stage Masked and cloaked In acid soaked Smoke and mirror soul stockade No Houdini escapade Could escape artist my pain From haunted houses locked away Museums of natural mystery Exhibiting my guilt and shame From buried ancient history Priceless are these artifacts Of worthless self-discovery Yet still displayed for all to see As a suit of armor Or a tomb of Tutankhamen Where I have bested Rama To be born again as Brahmin Where you find me now at play In nightmares of my new dream caste Alone in every way One can be stuck inside the past
0
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 1:58 AM UTC
michael-marchese
Night at the Museum
Abandon all hope Ye who enter my domain For once you go in There's no leaving my brain A relic of the darkest age Gothic bells of Notre Dame My atheistic serenade My faithless roaring lion cage My phantom of the opera stage Masked and cloaked In acid soaked Smoke and mirror soul stockade No Houdini escapade Could escape artist my pain From haunted houses locked away Museums of natural mystery Exhibiting my guilt and shame From buried ancient history Priceless are these artifacts Of worthless self-discovery Yet still displayed for all to see As a suit of armor Or a tomb of Tutankhamen Where I have bested Rama To be born again as Brahmin Where you find me now at play In nightmares of my new dream caste Alone in every way One can be stuck inside the past
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29
This atheistic, intelligent, liberal minded nonestablishmentarian christened Matthew Scott Harris, haint gotta clue, how bias, discrimination, prejudice didst brew within me noggin admitting to myself, (that though tolerant towards most other people) amidst variegated hue mankind cutting crew, I can not wholeheartedly dislodge un argue ably the stubborn presence of disagreeably unwanted notions, an effort quite few till to expunge, though not clearly delineated against gentile nor Jew the latter encompassing my genealogical lineage (as ye probably knew) though acute awareness exists that objectionable thoughts towards others coalesced and grew, sans initial aural, sensational, and visual perceptions did ensue from nearly imperceptible germinal, ephemeral, and casual brief interactions, thy amygdala and, posterior cingulate cortex (PCC) instantaneously drew nearly nsync with a single blink of thine myopic left or right human eye (which average duration 0.1 to 0.4 seconds, or 100 to 400 milliseconds) forged an unconscious initial mount'n view clocked in at 100 milliseconds or 328.0839895013123 feet per second pointing asper an expert mason hermetically sealing a psychic impression ala mortise and tenon amalgamated conglomerate enterprise glommed zoo wool logical imprimatur difficult, but not impossible loo sin and/or completely dislodge neurological hullabaloo.
0
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
matthew-scott-harris2p
First Impressions
This atheistic, intelligent, liberal minded nonestablishmentarian christened Matthew Scott Harris, haint gotta clue, how bias, discrimination, prejudice didst brew within me noggin admitting to myself, (that though tolerant towards most other people) amidst variegated hue mankind cutting crew, I can not wholeheartedly dislodge un argue ably the stubborn presence of disagreeably unwanted notions, an effort quite few till to expunge, though not clearly delineated against gentile nor Jew the latter encompassing my genealogical lineage (as ye probably knew) though acute awareness exists that objectionable thoughts towards others coalesced and grew, sans initial aural, sensational, and visual perceptions did ensue from nearly imperceptible germinal, ephemeral, and casual brief interactions, thy amygdala and, posterior cingulate cortex (PCC) instantaneously drew nearly nsync with a single blink of thine myopic left or right human eye (which average duration 0.1 to 0.4 seconds, or 100 to 400 milliseconds) forged an unconscious initial mount'n view clocked in at 100 milliseconds or 328.0839895013123 feet per second pointing asper an expert mason hermetically sealing a psychic impression ala mortise and tenon amalgamated conglomerate enterprise glommed zoo wool logical imprimatur difficult, but not impossible loo sin and/or completely dislodge neurological hullabaloo.
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46