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Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
reinventing the resurrection of the Roman Empire with
a pseudo-Christ in tow will prove fatal -
or simply propelled to an established
norm for all the wrong reasons
other than a quasi-Narcissism fully embracing
fetishes beyond the standardised
practises of human evolutionary concerns -
see how Darwinism is incubator
of fatalist vocabulary? too much arrogance -
they're nothing more than Spanish
Inquisition leeches - because when was
atheism intended as a fashion statement
with mismatched socks and matching
loafers? probably never.
we already sought to put atheistic economics
on the guillotine tablature -
the temple named: all men are born equal
was always Samson's prize for demolition's
just escapade, in or anywhere outside of
a Glasgow housing estate -
a Scot making a joke about Scots:
how was copper wire invented?
two Scots arguing over a 2 pence coin...
a stretch Armstrong moment i'd like to see.
all we need is Hillary for the unholy alliance
to materialise - the birth of horse racing
and womanised politics -
and are you the baby tarantula on the back
of mama tarantula? no? oh... don't
expect much from mama tarantula
if you're not part of her family and genetic vector.
the resurrection of the Roman empire as cited
by Divine John has a major fault...
the original intention prior to the authority of
Augustus was based on republicanism -
not democracy - the autocracy evolved from
republicanism, not democracy -
and if this be the McDonald model of work
ethic and success, it will be hard finding a few wise
old men to quench a rise in despotism -
the naive-expectation will over-power them -
we could see America as our safety laboratory once -
where the fates of Greek democracy and Roman
republicanism were played out -
rule of the many v. rule of the informed worthy few -
if elections came about the former would
have a lot of numbers anonymously signed X -
while the latter a few numbers but identified with
articulate signatures - democracy is basically
a stab in the dark, that precipitates to a vote of
no confidence - and an immediate imitation of
Pontius Pilate's quest for conscience and washing his
hands in pseudo-Dostoyevsky's the machinist,
with bleach - ****** courtroom -
when older poets recite their republicanism knowing how,
the newer ones recite their democracy knowing neither
how or why - thus the resurrection of Rome built
around democracy and not republicanism -
the washing of the hands and loss of conscience -
this prophesied resurrection of Rome was not based
on republicanism but on democracy, for the simple
fact that democracy had its martyr - a republican member
should another be fixed to compete with him -
no Platonic notation of the idea behind the republic
was ever established - but indeed a lot was noted
concerning democracy - which in practice wasn't
a practice in dialectics, but in dichotomy -
the polarisation of opinions in the simplest terms:
man v. woman, old v. young...
the republicans only had one dialectics ruining them:
the dichotomy between one man and the many -
is man to be as automated as insect or Satanically
rebellious and in his own sway "himself"?
there need not be a conjuring of biblical myths with
this concern - man was not temped for insight
into the disparity of good and evil and subsequent
confusion of attributing each its invested share
of expression in the world of choice -
but man was made an ontological alliance with
the famous villain (i too, akin to Milton's sympathy
a pledged allegiance do make an oath to consummate
a rival marriage, kindred of celibacy shared
by truth or perception, royal, named Elizabeth I) -
for if not by rebellion Satanic not make elemental conquests
or at least improve on them?
Francis Bacon died attempting to conjure up
a refrigerator with a dead chicken - dying from
hypothermia, or a really bad cold; never mind that,
if the resurrection of a united pseudo-Rome is to be
established it cannot take root in democracy -
but it already has, and is doomed to fail
given one of its former provinces risked all to exit -
it has to be rooted in the origin, in republicanism -
but it can't take root there, given the lost vitality of ancient
old age and modern old age leaving behind
only disparity - audacity of youth in every sphere
of life - and the blatantly over-stretched comforts of
old age - the American experiment of having
democracy v. republicanism staged failed -
that was the intention - to see which one was more the success
story of the revival - i appears neither or precisely both -
in that democracy has fuelled the city-states once again:
globalisation and the city-states: London, Paris, Germany...
they exist as separate entities in a web segregating
themselves from national politics and associating themselves
in global politics with only their counterparts -
the Greek city states have been revived by such dynamic;
so if democracy fuelled that, then surely republicanism
has fuelled what happened in the British exit from the union?
coup d'état in Turkey (on the waiting list, joining in
2020 along with Serbia and Albania etc.) - if you can't see
xenophobia and a choice of politically correct vocabulary
you don't see the naivety of Polish pensioners and English
pensioners - Turks at home in Germany - but let's revitalise
the memory the Iraqis share with Mongols and the sacking
of Baghdad and the Siege of Vienna between Turks and Poles -
i've assimilated into British society i don't identify with
such ethnic historicity - i was taught history including Roman
conquests; do i think the Scots will break from the Union?
i think they'll break for ethnic moral - that's
the other member of the unholy alliance, a real cat fight,
2nd Ms. Thatcher in Downing Street? the youth voted
in - the old voted out - when they were concentrating
on the gender gap a milieu gap was convening -
outside of London the impression of the family environment
suggested the youth didn't vote, in the urban environment
youth mingled with youth, to later hear their parents
or grandparents were dying ****-stained in care-homes...
strange: you always seem to wish to be part of a Mongolian
horde in such times for the oddest but the most blatant
reasons... oh yeah, and i read 5 books today...
well, i told you, once you read enough books of your
own choice you end up reading poems and reviews to
give yourself some slack...
- les parisiennes by Anne Sebba (review by Daisy Goodwin)
  (always women reading books by women,
   and men reading books by men... what sexism
   in this post-sexist culture of FEMININE EQUAL)
- Paper: passing through history by Mark Kurlansky
    (review by John Sutherland) p.s. best citations
    from this review... maybe some other time...
-  The Age of Bowie: how david bowie made a world of
     difference
by Paul Morley (review by Will Hodgkinson)
-  the Girl who Beat Isis: my story by Farida K(h)alaf with
    Andrea C. Hoffman trans. by Jamie Bulloch (review by
    Catherine Philp)
-  Pinpoint: how GPS is changing our World by Greg Milner
    (review by Damian Whitworth)
and finally...
- All things made New: writing on the Reformation by
    Diarmaid MacCulloch (review by Robert Tombs)...
                                indeed,
                                 the terrible has
                                 already happened
;
never leverage on
a positive thought when
working from Pompeii -
as the lessons of failure
from the past magnify -
there is nothing
but hindsight and pessimism
in the past to unearth -
while uncertainty and optimism
toward the future readying
itself for the burial rites
of the already unearthed artefacts
in continuum imito (in a continuum of imitation).
GaryFairy Dec 2013
We need a new constitution
constituting a needed revolution
revolutionizing our evolution
evolving into a new attribution
attributing to a new distribution
distributing love is the solution
Don Bouchard Sep 2016
Kathy Charmaz suggests that if
Grounded Theory leaves me stuck,
I ought to add an "ing" to all the memos
Of all the field notes of the scratch notes of the observations,
and the transcribed notes of the interviews
That I took a half a year ago,
And so....

I'm creating a list,
Starting with A
Accepting (criticism)
Adapting (to change)
Attending (to lessons)
Attributing (blame)
Attributing (success)

Skipping B
Which seems all alone,
I move to the Cs,
With a heart of cold stone....

Caring (from teacher)
Changing (to learn)
Collaborating (in learning)
Comparing (with others)
Connecting (key concepts, and ideas to life)
Correcting (one's errors in deeds or in thoughts)
Conferencing (to see what the good doctor thinks)
(Guess the Cs are nice to look at in my despair),

And on toward Ds,
Those diffident dogs,
Dialoguing (in classrooms, in memos and calls)
Differentiating (myself from the pack)
Disrespecting (my feet up on somebody's desk)
Dominating....(discussion in class or the hall)
(Careful, Ds, talk it out or you're gonna fall).

Es are Encouraging (the work can be done),
Enjoying (the tasks, alone or with you)
Engaging the students, (not too much to ask)
Excelling (the sense of, and actually, too)
(My sense is that E is a place to be dwelling)

F is still Focusing (on the specifics)
Then jumping to G,
Goal-setting (so needed, and powerful, too)
Graduating (the goal, so I've heard, how 'bout you?)

Then H is for Humor,
Amusing for sure,

And on to the I
Interacting (dialogue is our guide)
Identifying (the needs and the shame and the pride)

J stands with K,
Both empty and alone,

L is for Learning (adjusting in change)

M is for Modeling (Bandura's so proud)

N stands for "none" at the moment,
But O is for Organizing, (homework and my thoughts)
And P is Participating, (profs like this a lot)
Paying forward, (so noble, and so seldom done)
Persisting, (not quitting, as losers have done)
And Plagiarizing (May God help us all)
Praying, (we live through the work set before us)
Prioritizing, and
Finally, Progressing (Can we sing all in chorus?)

Q's pretty quiet just now,
But R is for Reading, and
Reflecting, (like mirrors or a pond)
Resigning, (accepting) or consider this,
Risking (daring to risk)

While S, Lovely S is all about Self,
Self-advocating (students)
Self-assessing, (too)
Self-deprecating, (but not much)
Self disciplining, (cool)
Self-motivating, (how often?)
Self-regulating, (we all should do this)
And last, some Struggling proceeds
Before we find ourselves Succeeding.

T is Threatening, (a sense of foreboding)
Teaching, (is harder under a threat)
Transitioning, (moving on, before we all rust)
Trying, (not tempting, but taking a try)
Tutoring, (If you need it, don't cry)

And U
Is alone with the flu.

So is V (guess it's viral),
But W's Writing, (the goal in this study, of course)

And so far,
X, Y, and Z
Are still hiding, no Ings in their view,
And it's back to my coding,
After I get back from the loo.
Reviewing the gerunds rising from my notes....
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2017
abstract -

a "jew" sitting inside al-musharrafah /
                            al-ka'bah /   al-kāba(h),
    trying to figure out an hebraic aversion
  using kabbalah

Γ
      0       ∞        8

      8                  1         ∞
                                            L

          \  /
            |
                        | - |        \/\/    
                                                       | - |
         _              
       /_ /|
      |_|/


    - narrative -

i knew i should have written this, straight away,
as it conjured itself before me, first
in mind, then in paper...
             but the idiot me decided for a blackbeard
refill...
             washing myself, and then heading
to the supermarket...
                 sweating all the way, and prior to also,
then walking into the supermarket,
opening a fridge-freezer with the frozen
peas, and ice-cream, and sticking my head into
it.
         i should have written this,
   when the original euphoria was there...
           walking back home i realised:
               what the hell does the noted 8, 8, 8
mean now?
                       **** it! i can't remember why
i wrote it, but didn't write an explanation;
      and now i'm bundled up in half-***
bewilderment, figuring out the chicken egg
story of: what came first, the mouth or the ****?
  aha!
              the bellybutton and the umbilical chord...
wait wait...
            that mouth of mother, and into
the **** that's the umbilical chord, and then
into: ****, a foetus' second mouth on the belly...
                  thankfully there's a cut-off point:
foetus' have no anuses...
         which doesn't beg the question,
   as to why they need to be wrapped in diapers...
imagine several weeks constipated in the womb...
you plop out... and bang! **** after ****,
as the foetal **** constricted, finally lets itself
go... and bam! diarrhea!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

          t.b.c. (to be continued...
        i'm sweating like a wild pig and i need
to have a second shower, or something)...

            - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

let's just say that the latin version of the hebraic
meditation is different,
       it focuses, against gematria,
or numerology, which is a bit like pompous
astrology: the whole - it was written in the stars?
well... sailors navigated the seas using stars
   because they thought: the sky's flat...
if the earth isn't flat, then the sky has to be flat,
otherwise how would we navigate from (a) to (b)?

    which is an antithesis to an antithesis
                              that's a prohibition of
palm reading (fortune telling) - yadekha
     (your hand), rather, the concept of yod-ekha,
your י (yod)
   (is that the hebrew version of ego? or simply i?)
   pslam 145:16 -
                             again, a gateway.

resh | he | het | gimel | dalet | lamed | mem | bet.

   so if you do not prescribe palm reading,
   you shouldn't prescribe gematria,
     or reading into letters with the eyes of numbers,
unless of course, you state your cause,
   and perform something akin to astronomy,
meaning: upon the axis of π.

      you open your hand, and then close it,
      as spring clenches its bud, and subsequently
opens it...
                       so do both wither away.

   but try imagining practicing kabbalah in the kaaba...
     _  _
       |        or         \   /
                                |
   as that, which is in the corner of the cube...
   this kabbalistic interpretation of hebrew is tinged
with roman numerals, which is why this is in latin,
rather than hebrew, and for that reason,
    in this system, gematria is a stupid superstition,
like fortune cookies in a chinese restaurant...
   we have moved toward the basics, matchsticks...
in the tetragrammaton alone, there are only:
  | | |, | | |, | | |, | | | |                  13 matchsticks;
ah, indeed, the greeks called that number
jesus and his disciples, or what the romans later said:
the devil's dozen.

      and how many sides does a cube have?
H, H,             or | _ | + | _ | = 6,
                 six on the inside, six on the outside...
but how many corners? 8...
                                    r, h, g, d, l, m, b, h.

of course the matchsticks become problematic,
      or what was chiselled into stone at the senate,
a V (5) for a U...   so no wonder there exists in
naked english such short-hand as l8er...
                                     so much so, of herbaic
with no UU (ω, w), i.e. ו
         ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ (squiggly squiggly)
     w ~ vav (a poor comparison in spelling
      ha-hara... ha... ha... ha-shem);
    and upon the 24th hour, measured right down
to the letter, a year, prior b.c, now ζηρo (zéro
               in polish)... or...
                       ζερo - in english, i.e. zee-ro(h).

and how did loki fool the hebrew god?
        he pulled his ******* back, and pretended
to be circumcised, and it worked like magic contra
   very ancient history, that always remains,
continually, un-announced in modern discussion
with a sensibility that might compete with
   all modern chit-chat in a soup... sorry, soap opera.

      and already, i said it before, do what nazis
did to the *******, but with the star of david...
rotate it... what do you see?
                i see a square carpet, and an open book,
and someone obviously sitting on the carpet
  with the book open.

    and now: for a larger schematic, givten that
the י is already the kaaba, or as i like to call it,
   the lament configuration...
   but oddly enough... there's something more...
  there's also yah.... known by its place in
  the sefirot, as chokhmah...  only second
   from the crown (keter, otherwise known
   colloquially as kippah)...
             and it means wisdom.
  
   indeed, beauty is in the eye of the beholder...
thus standing inside the kaaba, in one of the corners:

(if eve cotended with lilith, then אדאמ   (adam)
  _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
| \ צ                              \
|    \                          ­      \
|       \                                \
|          \ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ \
|            |                                |                ­        
|            |                                |         ­                 
|            |                                |­
\          |                                |    
    \       |                                |
       \    |                                |
          \ | _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ו |   (v)
                                              
              would have to have a shodow counter
part, namely:              צדצם‎.
    in latin geometry, and without the skewed
copernican angle... we receive the geometry of Y
  (i.e. yod);
     but i am but a man, who walked into the kaaba
in mecca... and found not a dust's worth
   of attributing the god allah... with the learnings
os the kabbalah;

    and indeed, why is the concept of infinity,
merely a dot, a big bang, a one-dimensional entity?
why is it not three dimensional?
   ah, the fours numbers,           1808...
perhaps four letters instead?

Γ
     ל‎        ∞       8                       (lamed)

     8                  ג‎         ∞              (gimel)
                                          ­L
Corpus Mortalis in the Greek, Hellenic, and Egyptian pantheons, in the vaults they were filled with marble by all the gangs that tried to find them, because it would soon be the longest night in the Aegean world, where it was propitious to indicate places where to spend the night because the Corpus mingled with the Souls of Trouvere in the Apennines, Ghosts of Shiraz from Jaffa, Almas Christi from Leros with the Gerakis, and finally the souls of the Necropolis of Helenikká to support all believing proselytes of the Hexagonal Birthright. They were attracted to the theorization of fragmented intelligence in every being that fears their own, without the opinion of those who leave them alone and hostages in their isolation, and of a corpus characterized by persuasion in the first objects of twilight, which only left distinguish the moons of the nails and not that of the firmament, the intelligence became lethargic and closed itself in its own object of ideology, of the individual and of the gods who administered everything without a Corpus Mortalis, rather they challenged three-quarters of the day, and three-quarters of their spiritual acuity, to resist the siege of space that disrupts the pause in the hour that excludes all gadgets, to counteract the detonated and not rescued exception of the challenge. The voices of the Moiras were tuned in with Circe, under Zefian's ordering principle, who was already delivering the ergonomic ****** of the fourth arrow, to leave it in the carelessness of Vernarth and Saint John already revived, encompassing and assuming three-quarters of the day they glossed to attract them the threshold that behaved in immovable demiurgic, where men stopped being men with intelligence, rather they dialogued about initiations of the cosmos, but without human centrism that acquires it for a dialogue of Timaeus, wherever they may be. the non-existent things, where he splatters her with nuances of science would bring serious stenches of his erudition. The saga was made of the Ekev of causality that explores from an understood cause already issued, but of the Samaritan philanthropist who shone more at this time, than anyone who closes his eyes so as not to open it after the eternal Aegean night. The philanthropic sense was sensitized with reason in the hands of Zefian, after delivering the Saetas knowing that his personality trilled from the Timaeus, not to disagree with it from a human conscience, but from bilocation of the Beit Hamikdash, attributing his conception with low resources of whoever restrains him by rationalizing, but is under the clinical resource of the one who is recovered from his stuttering and dyslalia.

The Argive constructor Tecton already came with his builders, while the Corpus Mortalis hit who or who would hammer from the plexus, or who or what would be the first network of his linear for the Vóreios de Zefian, adjusting to the beginning of a Corpus Mortalis when it began the constructive principle of the Argivo tecton. The arches were deconfigured in irrational measures, which with their sixth sense they could foresee from the trace of the Platonic Philebus, as he nodded with a refined tiresome bustle, but he appropriated it in presupposition, going to settle where everyone goes together to pick the berries of the field frank, next to the Mataki who was already putting an end and closing the Phaedo that was encircling, with the feverish organization of the trembling desire of the philosophical den, not determining to die like Corpus Mortalis in the breviaries of the ellipsis, where everything remains in nothingness or in the outcast of the one who treasures it with more contingents of memory, and of the same one who is reborn from the slags, having had an insight that remains empty in the cliffs, under the figure of a marked man who revives in the lightning bolts that enabled royal wisdom, while his Corpus Mortalis was leaving with his soul that was embracing vast fields of his thesis. Where what he removes when he pulses from the heart, he adds what the dying person adds, although it is not known where he is going, it will summarize his ontology more than a prison inhabitant who poses free on his profane neighbor from the rhetoric that manifests position in his trajectory who will remember him and will not locate him in the next scene of the challenge of a new life. The Phaedo is on the ex-Voto of him with two institutionalized powers, he will have to know who will dare to cure him of his sieges and his demons that resurrect him but not make him his captive. The spell already inaugurated that knowing or deciding in the nomenclatures of a Platonic Demiurge, who from all past life made it ulterior, but not processed from the Seventh Heaven, between both coincidences from an astral magistracy that will take him through the lawsuit of self-exorcism, wild for the greatest mountains that protect him when he wants to warn, that beyond them he will come umpteenth more monumental than themselves, but with his, Phaedo contained in his soul written and rewritten by him and by his Corpus Mortalis.
Corpus Mortalis
Eleete j Muir Jan 2012
The priestly poachers of belief within
The solitudarianism of times wilderness
Laughing at twilight,
Condemning actions purifying justification
The dark ages of Heaven
Reigning Hell amongst men
The mouth the mother of the spiritual pearl
Attributing demonic accepting
Exhaling death upon believing angels
Periodically living bewildered
Reckoning with love the feeling of caring;
Calling the missing, missing the calling
Within ones self forgetting the reasoning
Watching the rain remembering
Crying, over hallowed graves
Collecting ivory teeth.



ELEETE J MUIR.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2015
you know what’s really haunting about pictures like this:
    (see profile picture)
i only found out about the paris massacre
at 6pm.
so this whole mental illness debacle...
i guess i’ll have to fake it, improvise,
all the great ones did it to push people away
for some peace and quiet...
i’m seeing... i’m seeing the equivalent of
the 100 years war with islamic barbarism...
there simply isn’t a mein kampf orientation of:
what comes next?
the only thing that comes next is panic...
why didn’t they shout THIS IS FOR IRAQ!
why suddenly involve: ah crap, i knew it,
the re-emergence of poland on the map
ensure the post-colonial nations get the ***** treatment,
i was subjugated to prussian, russian and austro-hungarian
authority for some time, what the ****?!
the french / english / spanish trinity of colonialism
is not my 5pm cup of tea... **** it... let’s tango anyway...
let’s tango with hail marias in england
and magdalenes in corfu or ibiza...
yes... i’ve lost touch with reality... your definition of reality...
but at least i am the one who’s immersed...
you’re still stuck to the slavish realism of paying taxes and
kissing the bonnet of a sports car / boiler -
i’ve lost touch with your definition of reality...
mind the 1% budged of the n.h.s. caring
more for fatties and smokers... wisecrack.
well, what are the parisians gonna do... #: weareeaglesofdeathfans...
that won’t sell... my bet is... they won’t even bother
to entourage democracy this time... watch and learn boys...
they shot sub-culture admirers... they won’t march...
we’re **** to them... the neo-hippies...
they... will... not... march... this time, i promise you that.
it’s not politically adequate for the WE STAND TOGETHER pantomime...
they won’t.... i know them when i see them
crazy eyed and pathetic and uncourageous...
so unto satan and the kabbalah...
ever hear the post-traumatic stress-disorder of satan
having to hear ah ah ah oh oh oh uh uh uh
of woman?
there’s only two left... eh / i = pronoun....
satan does not have access to the vowels e and i....
i.e. he took back a tape recording of ***** into hell
to play on loop... while the tortures took place...
sweet music some say...
let’s see tomorrow.
theoretically though? losing the prefix un-,
and attributing something more functional
in relation to the conscious faculties of thought / memory /
imagination... you can only decrease your chances
of dreaming and provide the antidote to the theories
of the unconscious... it's already stressed in psychiatric
theory as animalistic... animals make sense of the world
with their distinctive "onomatopoeias" & intuition;
write poetry like it's a front-page story
that shoved through the queue elbowing people
to be first... hit the molten iron into shape while it's
amber hot... reference actual immersion in the world
(existence), rather than referencing non-immersion
in the world of idealism (essence / not
necessary essentials).
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2015
sometimes you reveal a cognitive beehive, telegraphic notations: pleasing errors and a malignant internalisation of what democracy looks like in one man: voiceover canned laughter... i've only heard of two comedies without canned laughter - the royal family and the office... you know when you are permitted to laugh... rather than be fed the easiest way out... attributing a witty comedy with canned laughter devolves it from being a witty comedy... meaning mr. bean (jaś fasola, do re mi ti do) had more wit; because i want to laugh when i want to, not when i'm falsely told to as if i didn't understand the language i used and didn't find the canned laughter jokes utterly appealing to be unanimously convinced that they could take my stomach and put it on a torture rack of giggles.*

you have to turn into a child to decipher the patchwork of lies,
elijah had enough honour in him to have written
absolutely nothing, because he measured it out as:
they’re all trying to imitate moses’ style, and they’re
doing a very bad job at it,
my purely cognitive proof will send shivers down their spines:
and so it was.
the one thing that worries me about the greeks’ work
that’s the new testament, primarily...
the bit where judas becomes a slave dealer elevated from a thief...
so did jesus shave his beard off and cut his hair to roman standard
(short) that he, one of the most famous people at the time in judea
be so unrecognisable as to require judas kissing him?
what’s up with that? i’m sure that walking on water
and feeding five thousand strong with five loaves of bread
and two fish... you would make an indent in the public consciousness
and which would make you easily spotted... even in an age without
selfies and passports to identify you... so what’s up with that?
another thing (apart from the fact that i learned
that bottled beer tastes better than canned beer)
is this bit about elevating men above angels,
with angels in islamic theory being creatures without free will,
i.e. robots... which ensures man slaughters cherishing a day
of reflection (the sabbath), and engages in a 24 / 7 capacity
to trade goods...
the bit where gabriel answers the feminine aspect of translating
woman to man and man to woman... was muhammad a woman?
christianity gave us... for ****’s sake singing eunuchs...
worse still it turned grecian homosexuality into perversity...
choir boys got fingered by a priest... it turned homosexuality
into pedophilic homosexuality...
and you know that interest kant had at the beginning of his career
with the theme of swedenborg or hegel’s with böhme -
it’s tiresome, mysticism is, i mean you get man elevated
above angels / robots turning men into robots...
you get the wings of angels clipped...
you end up with men without testicles (bloodhound gang’s
pink floyd pantomime - all in all, you’re just another **** with
no *****)... then due to the wings being clipped
you get angels attributed the status of saint...
st. michael, e.g., st. raphael...
and you begin to wonder... what if devaluing angels to the status
of saints encouraged the complex schizophrenic dialogue of
mohammad’s revelation to reach into this pocket of logic
and denote him as the angel michael, the warring angel...
given the current implosion of islam into a warring reformation?
obviously it’s ridiculous for the humanist and what not
in attempts to appear cool... and in there in the secular realm
a clear voiceferous voice of conformity with scientific standards
upkept is like a tennins ball against a brick wall...
but philosophy begins in awe and ends in paradox...
you can turn into a clown once in a while and appear to weep
with a smiley face make-up...
the diacritic use in german polish swedish etc.
is a disease in english, with its diacritical nakedness...
it’s a negation of ease for one reason: c u l8tr -
what the hell is that? lol... liquidation of lombards?
very unsettling to say the least...
as much as the french antifix, for example
le alésoir - the affix is apparent because the “hyphen”
over the e  stressor is pointing east...
but an example where the “hyphen” over the e
points west... the thus mentioned e eats everything that
comes after, thus becoming an antifix, e.g. excè(s)
thus the use of diacritic marks also act as syllabled segregation
into compounds of timing pronunciation:
much more than the english expression of tomato
and the american expression of potato;
sub-refernce from the title: gnoch'e - imperfect,
no wonder dyslexia exists...
even though the majority of people are literate,
the pre-existent spelling complications still favour
those who invented them and subsequently allowed
the all-pervading literacy for pawns.
Francie Lynch Apr 2015
I understand why we personify Life,
We live;
But why personify Death,
We die.
Attributing Pride to Death
Is senseless;
It's the last thing on the island.
Tip of the cap to J. Donne.
Alan McClure Nov 2012
For a modest subscription -
say, £100 a month -
you can receive my weekly newsletter
outlining the manner in which I undertake
to steal your jobs,
besmirch your womenfolk
(or menfolk, if you like),
impose my religion upon you,
undermine your financial system,
eat the swans in your local park,
raise/lower house prices (as your current need dictates),
contribute to a nameless sense of dread,
dilute your cherished national identity
and produce more illiterate children than the welfare state
can reasonably support.

I will do you this service
on the understanding
that you will stop attributing blame
to your undeserving neighbours
and get on with your life
like a decent human being.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2016
you see it...
the Cartesian pH scale...

i think
             the acidic               concerning
       evil thoughts

and

i am
         the alkaline                 concerning
evil action...
                          sketching mezzo in Spain...

but still so much resides in people
expressing da- -denken,
no fallacy with that,
to express thinking you're there
is no fallacy, there's no wrong with that,
being there is a fake,
Heidegger spoke of plagiarism,
rightly he's a magician, a quick hand,
a droplet of Mercury -

sometimes music overpowers,
there's no music, only meaning, after all,
aren't we to decipher our encoding?

philosophy has no access to music,
it can't enter the realm of syllables, or alphabetical
units, its limit is reasoning and meaning,
it cannot perform autopsy on words,
for philosophy words are cursors, vectors,
it cannot dissect words toward syllables
and units of sound, it relies on compounds
ending with a -logy-, pristine ~arithmetic ...

the therefore sequencing
akin to 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 4 can be discarded,
acceptable the Newtonian causality
and the mishmash loss of vector, of Einstein's paralleling
for the parabola, or vacuum dipping...

we are concerned with therefore acting as
a multi-facet mathematical function,
with two algebraic modes of expression -
as much bewilderment entombs Newton's theories
as much bewilderment entombs a serial killer's actions...
acidic or alkali are expressions of pigmentation
or activity, yet when encompassed within
pH scaling, non-differential...

in that so many concerns enter the verb thought
(verb - activity of expressing it) that thought per se
excludes nouns to revel in pristine form...
what basis is there for nouns if not automation
rubrics that are settled for a rekindled encounter?
if thinking is an activity, it turns the animate thing
into an inanimate thing, a philosopher's stone
away from peculiar assortment -
and when god seized walking freely,
he turned into a stone, apathetically accepting
monotheistic prayers - once an animate thing,
chained into inanimate enthroning.

what is the prime category of words utilised
in thinking, should no narrative schematic be utilised?
we all know the cognitive schematic narrative,
in fear of linguistic bombardment
that provides puzzles from syllables and
eyed-encoding shapes such as mm or dentistry's
A having cut out the tongue.

but the Cartesian balance - being does not
prove thinking, and thinking does not prove being -
better that unsolved than perpetually
exhausting the argument of being via beings sacrificed
to enshrine a memory - lesser concern
for the thought that spurned others to think
a similar complication, via allowance of the leisurely
timing worth consuming -
with the former a gas chamber, with the latter
a library - there is still a scaling,
not necessarily attributing acidity or alkaline superstition...
_______________­____________________­________
                                     ­  Δ
on topic of pivots and Archimedes.
Chloë Fuller Dec 2014
we beat on and travel
you can't keep something that hates your presence
actions exalt billions of times louder than empty words with zero eye contact

joining haunts and skeletons you assured me were nonexistent
i saw them following you from the moment we met
they are holding you down and you can't expect me to cherish them
rubbing the dirt of your past, present, and future into my eyes
but again, promising there's nothing attached to you below
dancing to thought of your new idol-ship
when there's no one around to bow down and twinkle for you

what are you so ******* afraid of?
i smirk to myself, finally seeing through the foggy glass from body heat
you've misinterpreted every lilt of my voice
mistaking me for a lamb
But I'm a lion
strong, proud, and independent
my lust has been mistaken for desperate love
your ego is beginning to make your shoulders slump
attributing every word i put down as a proclamation for you

i'm sure you, and you, think this, along with all the others, are about "how much I need you."
They're about everyone.
I don't need you. I want you. Wanted?
I don't need anyone.
No one can have me like I got me.
enough with the self-pitying *******
Joshua Adam Jul 2015
On Whom to Blame?

On Whom can we blame. Let's face it. We are human beings. Attributing blame (or excuses) is something we all do. Why? What is it in our physiological make-up that somehow justifies this tendency in almost all of us? The answer is that it's a secret. A true earthly secret that is kept even from ourselves. Perhaps our egos allow us to "live with ourselves" if we can somehow convince ourselves that we didn't fail; that we didn't do anything wrong. And as you and I both know, We (just about) never do! Right!

Here it is, but please remember, keep it a secret:

Secrets remain
a world to blame
hearts with no shame
life, but a game
they look the same
separate is their fame
from afar they came
but a secret with
no name, and
a life with no
shame
When dealing with shame, keep it (hidden) short. Here's a short, but deep, spiritual message.
Can anyone decipher?
The species and their somatic acquired deposits of DNA spirals, given their characteristics, they will make transformations in more than one taxon of cells for a homologous pair. Here Kaitelka the whale down from Sub-Mythology, will circle in the Baltic Sea, compromising neuralgia in it as a shallow essence due to its trisomy, making a comparison with psychic trisomies that Vernarth suffered at least four times a month, from the first and. Kaitelka individualized her cellular regressions, becoming a prehistoric cetacean and when she lagged beyond or before her creation, she transferred psychic trisomies due to her twenty-one chromosome. Kaitelka's karyotype was directed towards the crease of her eyes, due to an infection in the area of her basal inter fins that disturbed her heart rate in a short interval in which Poseidon magnified her coefficient in high amplitude, after being inseminated in her temperate state and gifted as a Super Goddess. Kaitelka in her nativity in the transversal valleys sailed in the air atmospheres of Hyperdisis and was always seen in the company of Leiak; omnipresent vague spirit of the watery ductile dancer, living on the liquefied element with her astringent slimy Chin ..., and seeing her with her grotesque back breaking lines and swamps between knuckles and edges of tricks inferred before the First station and in one of the

At seven hundred meters high she becomes Kaitelka Down godmother, adding the psychic chromosome twenty-two that contracts in connection with Vernarth in the paradoxical mountains when in the autumn afternoons they collect Ceratocystis fagacearum Mushrooms and irradiate insects such as borers. Kaitelka, when recovering her chromosome by detraction in the natural selection of Trisomy, expresses itself by spilling on the gelatinous dry leaves of all its dead cells and soon seeping into its retracted and frank adhesion membranes, causing recovery of its condition. After wandering and ringed symptoms of warning in the atmosphere of Horcondising, the vile of magnanimous effect and of challenge of the chromosome shed in the emulsion, the alpha proteins are contained in the entire transverted Vernarth genome, as a whole admonished and abundant diploid collection , before reaching the lethal processes of reciprocal adversity, both as zoo-anthropoid or triple zoo-anthropoid-botanical effect. Pre-Existing Kaitelka Down with forty-two chromosomes (22 pairs) and the Lepidoptera Agrodiaetus (134 pairs), in its haploid, that is, half and vitalizing between two species of the sub-mythological world, being in its psychic cellular compound, and later implant it in germ cells for the effect of psychic transmission in Venarthian ambivalence and vice versa. By discard, there are four fewer chromosomes than the hommo sapiens and 222 less than the Lepidoptera Agrodiaetus, for the goal of flourishing with the power of Poseidon, brother of Zeus, restoring the cardinals of the Earth and the Sea concomitant with the seventh portion of the sea. With Poseidon, above all psychic fluctuation and the powers of Kaitelka, in cognitive common that compresses the perception of its ultra-oceanic methodological current, analogous to this super cetacean, making it structural and semi-human in the super archeo volume and its kinetics, surpassing all neuro-mental state.

Meta sense and discernment, they will be cogitated brain by the conscious ones where their sensory cognitive is interrupted, towards an unconscious by means of photons of hypocaloric temperature, to define in their prehistoric psychological and psychic memory, more than random brain, coexisting with habeas corpus content and remote cerebral energy, before the magistracy and power of Poseidon, graduated and insurmountable in the southern seclusion of his memory asilated in his E-Cloud.  That is to say; stored in electromagnetic and electrophysiological stimuli, as weighted in square miles and in floating Poseidon starts, in super cetacean categories down, with only four meager chromosomes from the remnants of the human procedural genome. The trisomy field was now flaunted in anti-psychic fields, given the store cloud and self-grabbing, endowed by the square miles of Poseidon, attributing intrinsic substantiality defined by kinetic anthropo-morpho zoo hyper-readings, in profusion of totemic overflows that illustrated his complex individual base, knowing of atmospheric levitations in Kaitelka and of other magnanimous ones typical of his unknown skills of parapsychology suspended in waves of levitation and interbody Vernarthian descent, perceiving retractable surfaces of predominance of extra-sensory augural time and teleportation of identity, mind-brain and hyper-sensory as an established non-mental, physical or organic function, rather techno-organic and sub-mythological.

On the fourth of August of the year of the Lord, 1617, when Klaus Rittke was cleaning the main stained glass window of the Cathedral of Avignon, he heard heated dialogues between a Friar and a Gentleman, who was once an assistant to the clergy. Klauss could come closer and listen to their conversation more clearly, until Friar Andrés Panguiette, babbling, demanded from Raymond Bragasse indulgence or one or the other (Marielle Quentinnais compendium).  Relating in its narrative evolution, about some Albigenses of this work set in Avignon, time of the Antipopes, crossing with the psychic waves and of prophecies of who precisely Guillaume Bélibaste was born into a Cathar family.

Having noted that 1321 is 296 years different from Marielle Quentinnais, and takes place in Carcassonne on the same day as Bélibaste's execution, given his licentious life breaking Cathar dogmas, incriminating himself with civilians from the region, marrying women in exile, etc. , was condemned by the Holy Inquisition, where many were purged for the mere fact of holding biblical books in their abode. Among the flames of his bonfire the prophecy of the laurel will be homologated, whose shadow will fall on the centuries to come. Note the coincidence 3,700 years ago, where the first signs of life were appreciated on our planet and in the Hylates Forest in Cyprus (700,000 thousand souls), in the imprint that unifies the Christian scrolls, blowing gold dust on Walekiria's hair …, And being liberated, as a tartaric body of physicality. No one spoke, not even the 700,000 thousand souls who also claimed to be liberated (Vernarth, page 313 - paragraph 2). And finally seventh portion of the sea, with Poseidon. Here the Psychic numeral of Vernarth and Kaitelka coincide, who appear with the laurel of Guillaume de Bélibaste after almost seven years, preparing for the unification of the prophecy of the Laurel, whose shadow will hover over the centuries to come. Templars, perfect  bons homes and Cathars meet, in this historical feat, through the secret path safe from traitors and conspirators thanks to the most surprising allies. Bélibaste's fast-paced story will allow us to approach both the most unknown ceremonies and rituals of his confession, showing us his revelations in the flames and turning green in the Laurel of 1321 in sync with 2021, with a resurgence of liberation from creation and change. of spiritual consciousness, for the sake of a Belibaste with continue its current pre-existing history.

Given the little and nothing that exists in our revealing and psychic environmental enthronement, it should be noted that historical events fly like pollen and waves in their same wind vibrations. This entails the physical vibration material that is in every corner of our existentiality, without beginning or end, only spinning through the infinite axon of our karma and samskara, for convulsed and physical-ecological means and intermediates in the revealing countenance of the primitive psychic field before us, like the Aspis Koilé, as a shield or as a parabolic or omnidirectional antenna, bringing us in event after event that strangely interchange phases and processes intertwined with time in quantum physics and its subsequent biophysical changes in the genome chain and especially in his Psychic Trisomy.
Psychic Trisomy / Part 13
Poems I write for hobby sake for chap books great they make .

Art of giving words a life is a legacy so old , the charm and style simply unfold .
Here I am the super power,
Igniting sparks of positive desire.

Completely lost in the world of words so dear.
My love for books becomes clear.

Rhyming with the rhythm of words , caressing the art of creating a verse .
Attributing  to being a poet with a purpose .

Contributing to the humanity in all making myself confidant and tall .
By fabricating beautiful stories ,
I'm
Pleased offering everlasting memories .

© Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
28.06.2019
Poem acoustic
(P)  Pleased
(O) Offering
        (E) Everlasting
     (M) Memories
A try at giving a depth to poetry in general.
Truely  believe the world of poetry transports one in a dreamland and a poet contributes so much of depth to the otherwise mundane things in life...kudos to all poets ....respect....
Katherine Odell Nov 2014
To toss away life
Never ends this earth's strife
Rather, it just creates more
Though their time has not come
They still wish they be done
And they strive to meet death at its door

"End suff'ring!" they say
As they play Holy God
As if they all know better than He
And I wish they would find
Somewhere deep in their mind
The hope buried beneath misery

You would find this great hope
If you searched not this earth
But the whisper enveloping life
Which they cannot explain
Though they're racking their brains
And attributing all to their lies

They're deceitful and bitter
And faithless at best
They conceal the great truth that they've found
In our naivete,
We believe what they say
For we're sheep who have all gone astray

It's a fib we all buy
That to live is to die
So we search day and night for escape
But if your heart is pure,
You shall find your soul's cure
In the Life, in the Truth, in the Way
Inspired by my sadness at so many people pushing for euthanasia and assisted suicide. So many want to toss away the blessing of life. It breaks my feeble heart.
The grave thunders were of great coexistence in the mystical legions that turned around the nocturnal advance since the kingdom of the Subclavia and the Macedonian Psiloi began to raise the active groups that had to continue above the dusty silica, speaking no more than another doctrine that the tree of life in the geographical diameter of the town of Sapsila and Grikos on the war route to Skalá, but rather of epigraphy that was kept anonymous until they really saw each other face to face, fading from everything that will remain of the body that lies steep from the specters that will fight in the roadstead of Skalá.

Azrael "the help of God" began to be characterized with thousands of crowds that began to settle to witness this phenomenon of the military forces that had been annihilated in Arbela, and now revived were taking compensation for a credible epigraphy, more than people who were also crowds of souls that competed when contemplating the axon between Grikos and Skalá, attributing shared contemplation with the visions of the fragmentaries and the surplus epidermis, which were abandoned by both sides with the complexions of the same Angels that they left to reside and renew after the splendorous light that was dissimilar to their interests, and escorted them to define the strength of Baal prostrated to the Primordial Ether between all the opposing explosions that obviously divided the Mashiach, which was weighted with the gear of Light that was mediated in infinitives colors, between the banners to the source of Light of the Lights of the Kassotide as the o mphalo of aspiration in the Awir Qadmon of the Zohar, or explosional source of Light from where the Sybillas would descend from their vortex of admission that electromagnetically surpassed them from Hyperborea, and from where it looked like a millennial bleached that was reinserted in the ultraviolet, until degrading even in the pale celestial light from where the infinite playful colors of Raeder and Petrobus are divided, once again characterizing the families in their oikos, giving them holy water on the peaks of the Pelicans to be scattered in all the spectral figures of the Hoplite military forces that are they made upright and humble pro-courtiers who augured the strong influences of their eschatological, which would bring water and bread to all the regions of the Dodecanese after the Mega Seismic of Agios Andreas, from an orthodox rationalism instituted with super munificence withdrawn by the oppressor. The inclinations of both sides were different, those of the Persians were adverse to contemplations of greater emphasis and in the repairs of the medical battles of the past, since Bessos after the flight of Darío and his subsequent crime, he assumed as his Satrap car proclaiming himself as Xerxes' successor.
Fundamentalism brought the anxious troops in the Kabbalah of the Emotional Subclavian since it raises a colossal anthropological remnant of the spectral silica that unites Grikos and Skalá, arguing that from there in this subclavian the hormones of corpse mummies roar, with the greater flow than those that They are destined to die several times without having compassion for their ancestors, turning to the dust brooms that leads them to impieties that contradict the pietism that still did not lie in treasuring them, but wrapped themselves in their own syncretic sarcophagi, to praise the revolutions of woodworm. of dust with the hyper kinetics of Kabbalah that will bring light in meadows, and waters in streams that will be visible by the human eye towards the ecstatic, leaving them uncertain in the reality of joining the Merkaba as a coalition that has consonance, quality, and evidence with all the currents of thought and scholarship of irrational imperialism not adhered to the holiest and most generous to the action of service of Saint John the Apostle.

The strings were seen from great height like chains of Prometheus adding more links for those who made the syntax of Jakob when he came back from the lands of Laban leaving behind the cornered voices of the desert that clarifies everything, and leaves them in the spaces of the graphemes that make up the phylogeny of those who have walked day and night in the desert, at the expense of consonants such as Alpha and Aleph to develop the tracheo-laryngeal voices of Aramaic that were pronounced by all parts of the flint, and of deproposited inclinations of those who are paired by the coveted desire of the virulent result of the temptations by wanting to take all the material gains beyond the grave with Asmodeus or Lilith, if it is very broad to capitulate to the theories of the mysterious becoming, and how this colossal image will rise among all where the figure of the anthropological being rests that was flat in the subclavian, throbbing with so much flow of red blood cells, and Letters of Light where the Eagles and Oxen of Apollo will have the same inspirational wings of one who becomes divine after having been a mythological prototype, prostrated in all the powers of the Lion and the Gerakis as a master of the air and of the lion like the Cherub who he is jealous of the syntax and coordination so that the world began to speak of the common language with a language and its vibrations that rehabilitate the cosmos that had been twisted cabalistically since the Kassotide pit had been sealed. The communities made their souls cultured and genuine, allowing these militia networks to collide, claiming to sustain possible escapes before a body without a soul, being only specters that decomposed as time passed in the heliacal rise that made the pseudepigraphic alerts, to re-contribute to a literary reality that can be incorporated into the elite of anthropological literary works where spectral rooms can themselves contribute and build foundations, that are diligent succumbed parties having to go in the Zohar Light exhibition who stands indoctrinated to rise in these spectral posthumous Battle of Patmia.
Psiloi
ZWS Jun 2014
Yeah you're stuck in the stars
Somewhere in between betelgeuse and mars
All the aliens look up, and they see images of themselves being pulled apart
Branding themselves with vowels and constantly reminding themselves of the meaning they found in the stars

It's a constellation nation
Attributing stars to martians
That's who you are
Blue summer, I can see you from afar
All the thoughts you thought in your space car
In your fantastic flying saucer

I can hear your voice inside static static
Bouncing in between my ears like melted plastic plastic
The thoughts I have are becoming masochistic
Scraping my brain like physics of your friction
You're a space cherub, you're my mystic

Come on Virgo, dance with the stars
I know you love Jesus, but just wait till you take a ride in my space car
Listen to my alien tunes as we rip space time apart
We can go anywhere, but all I know is were going far
L A Lamb Sep 2014
“If you had the chance to rename yourself, who would you say you were?”

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean,” the girl coughed. Her eyes were rimmed with the red of sleep-deprivation, wine and stimulants.

“Give yourself a title. A name. An alternative.” The pen was ready in her hand. What a fascinating case, she thought. This was the kind of thing she’d worked hard for, and all her efforts had been put into it. Sylvie Citron was a young psychologist who had struggled for a long time, uncertain what to make of her brilliance. Coming from a wealthy family, she never had any option besides success. Her passion for science was adopted from her father, who spent his life as a neurologist before his death; a result of an aneurism. Her mother, a former ballerina, committed suicide when she was nine. She always resented the arts, and suppressed her emotions, attributing the most valuable parts of life to reason and science. Art was for the fools, but she was fascinated by such jest. Having never gotten anything below an 85% in any subject, she prided herself on her academic competence. She was settled in her office on the corner of 15th and Patriot St., among other young professionals who were also prematurely successful and intellectually manufactured for success and nothing less.

Oftentimes, she’d see her fellow neighbors in the offices across the hall and on various floors in the elevators, in the city, and always in company. She never shared the likes of such company, but she was envious of those who effortlessly were successful and never alone. The young lawyer across the hall, Kaitlyn Stone, was an example of such. The two knew each other only in passing, but Sylvie’s ears were susceptible to all sounds of Kaitlyn’s seemingly ideal life dampening her own ion comparison, resulting in her inadequacy. Kaitlyn, the young, beautiful lawyer, hadn’t passed the necessary exams to enter the doctoral program she’d dreamed of, and therefore was stuck with no alternatives to taking the bar exam. Sylvie sneered at Kaitlyn in passing, but was greatly disturbed by the reminder that she would never be as charismatic. The girl sitting in front of her, however, was a golden opportunity.

The girl in front of her opened her mouth, only to close it. She swallowed. Her wavering eyes stared at the psychologist curiously, long enough to motivate the psychologist to inquire further but short enough to eliminate any progress.

“I can’t say.”

Sylvie readjusted her posture and leaned forward towards her client. “Hey,” she soothed. “This is a safe place. You can tell me anything.” The girl stared straight through. He brown eyes glimmered with thoughts until her sadness pushed through her dam of self-control, drowning her eyes in tears.

“You may think it depraved,” she wavered.

“You can tell me anything.” The eye-contact was impenetrable. Sylvie, while awkward in her own right, was **** good at her job, especially with her emotionally disturbed patients. It was her talent.

“I can’t say… I can’t access it in spoken word.”

Sylvie pressed her personal opinions down and focused. Sylvie, who was not exactly judgmental, found herself taking her job too seriously. She viewed the mentally ill as weak, and thought her intelligence should be used to restore the damaged human mind, to strengthen and rationalize the behavioral and cognitive components of the sick. This girl before her was hard to crack. She assessed the girl, scars on her arms from qualms causing harm, and decided to take a different approach.

“I would like you to pretend you’re standing across from someone. I want you to imagine this person as a neutral, compassionate person. Imagine you only have five minutes to speak to them. This person isn’t like anyone else, for this person possesses a trait which attracts you and compels you to trust them. You look in their eyes, you look past into their mind and see reassurance. They ask you your name. What would you say.”

The girl leaned forward on the couch, elbows on her thighs, propped so hands could support her head, holding her chin against her knuckles. Her bloodshot eyes said it before her mouth did.

“I would pull out poems. I always keep some in my purse. I have them on scratches of paper, napkins, impulsively writing as I felt it enter me. I wouldn’t need to say my name, because if you mean what you said when describing this person, they would know me. They would already know my name.”

“What would they call you?” Sylvie consciously monitored her tone, hoping to not sound too desperate. She knew girls of this kind had the ability to manipulate.

“Well, they would already know. And when knowledge is a shared thing, what point is there to say it? You can only address something so many times, but feeling it is the difference, That’s where the significance lies.”

Sylvie exhaled, trying not to sound too exasperated. It was nearing four o’ clock, and she already felt bored of the girl’s hesitation. “How does that person know who you are? How would they know what you’re called.”

Her eyes darkened, redder than ever. “They would know, because by having already known, they would feel it—not see it, and not hear it. It’s a force, not a title, not a name. It’s a being.”

“What is this being?”

“It’s my existence. It’s in my poetry.” She moved her hands and reached for the water glass on the table, took a gulp swallowed. She delicately smacked her lips, adding a seductive lick. Sylvie kept the same face, peering past the girl’s distracting gestures. “Maybe you can see it sometime.” Her voice was marked by set syllables of monotone and dull.

“Bring it next time.” Sylvie consciously tried not to rush her, but she couldn’t help but grow impatient.

The girl stood and collected her belongings. Sylvie stood also, guiding her to the door, the way she did with all patients at the end of all sessions. The girl was walking towards the doorway when she nonchalantly added “You’ll see it soon.” She left shortly thereafter, and Sylvie never saw her again.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2017
i usually write a signature into a sudoku... namely? the last two slots remain validly filled by the greek letters: γ (gamma) & χ (tchaikovsky)... you can't imagine why i have to do this, but the aesthetic of sudoku presupposes that: well, to be honest, these puzzles look mightily ugly when not immersed in some sort of idiosyncratic culmination: after all... venus est in spectator oculus... take me to a football match? i won't chant, i won't shout, i won't choose sides... i'll be sitting silent... completely mesmerißed!

i.

i never look for "inspiration" with regards
to verse: and certainly not
poetic orthodoxy of minding technique:
but that magic of emotional
confiscation from both hate
  and attachment (akin to love) -
turned into a labour - that's both a labour
of love & of hate -
  hate refined: an uttering not up to
my standard of "perfection".

ii.

is there such a thing as the idea behind
emotional "i.q."?
   i know, it too think it's absurd...
       but it becomes less and less absurd
as i unravel the idea...
               oh i starting to get a tickling
at the tips of my fingers...
    and an itch on my tongue...
            i'm not interested whether
intelligence can be quantified...
         that's a bit boring...
        i'd rather spend the next considering
whether i can count from nought
to a century, and not lose count (d'uh:
loozzz... ******* left out the ß distinction:
    scharf s... s)
     but i think there are emotional
qualifiers for what is otherwise a brain-dead
scale of investigation...
             we know it: the idiots' safety
in numbers!
                       does it require investigation?
every time i ever did an i.q. test
i turned out a complete idiot...
   but every time i do a sudoku...
          well: turns out i'm a pretty inventive
*******...
            so... from what abstract coordinate
point of (0, 0, 0) are we talking about
the genesis of quantifying intelligence?
doesn't emtion come in play?
    well... i can't do crosswords:
obviously, my mind is focused on a different
type of "crossword" - once such as this.
i swear... there is claim to the myth
   of attributing as much idea behind *i.q.

                        to the brain (fatty sponge)
as there is to the heart...
                         why wouldn't there be?
but the heart doesn't speak about numbers
as solidifiers of intelligence,
by number alone...
  it speaks about words, as solidifiers of
intelligence, but the standard of emotional
connectivity of a haiku...
         personally? i think that western
writing standard should abolish entertaining
the notion of being able to write
haiku...
           god they're terrible...
    pretty much all of them...
we're ramblers!
                   we're not the ones sitting by a lake,
asking for a single drop of rain to
fall, and illuminate the stillness of this
watery grave, rather than the tap-dancing
deluge of torrential storm... just one drop of
rain... otherwise?
            well **** me: i start ******* into the lake
and turn into a hill-side;
but isn't emotional "i.q." something akin
to being emotionally lizard-like,
i.e. thick skinned?
                      i'm sure that if you're unable
to (or at least contain)
  being offended by something talking:
you have a very fleshy wholesome, warm
concept of being emotionally intact
and non-reactionary... a bit like
    sebastian schaw (x-men, d'uh) -
    it's not what you put into me...
           it's what i get out of it to show you...
let's face it: the chinese ascribe some sort
of nobility to the rat... if it's in the zodiac...
   out comes the nobility of aquariusl.

iii.

all it takes is solving a # (sudoku) -
     to open the floodgates for words to come
and entertain my eyes
          and the schrödinger box -
with my ego turning into a cat -
                as i finally drift from the very
masculine calculation of orientating
space within time and time within space
(space-time hyphen fission into fussion) -
of coordinating my walk down a street,
minding the traffic, while drinking a beer
and having a cigarette.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
/                    nietzsche wrote
his ecce ****
                                                  book...

­                         now?!

apparently we're all supposed
to write a book, entitled

mea culpa...                                 (?)

i just want an authenticity
of using the index,
index finger,

and being able
                        to point...
without sacrificing
the ownership
of a shadow attachment...

               and how
does the víšégrād group
    (oh i'm into linguistic
sabotage,
     writing such a word,
treating it as a bomb,
     and knowing the "nuance"?
well...
   the manchester mob,
the panic,
           and what is the concept
of islam if not advocacy
        for literacy? no? really?!)

invite the bulgars...                         (?)

like a birth of a 2nd. yugoslavia...
or the shift of
   the 2nd holy empire
to the, "left" in copernican
"terms"...

    there are the narrators,
the observers,
the critics,
   and the: chanced eyes on the mess...

no... in the collectivist / corporate
mind-sent?
              mea culpa is not on
the agenda...
                           "we" have already
stressed the situation past
the mea culpa:
  
           come: ecce ****
                      and the crucifixion /
                                          guillotine.

come the bulgars...

   and why am i not expressing
an intellectual ben hur
of an index finger?

managed to punch myself
20 times in the face
and give myself a plum beneath
the eye?

          so what's wrong with
"flexing" attributing
the tongue to an index finger
"exasperation"?
    
so few books are actually
ecce **** orientated...
            
       always the mea culpa,
never, never, ever,
                         tua culpa:

ergo?
                   ecce ****!

              shh...

quiet...

     just mention the concept
of mea culpa

                     to elißabeth fritzl

   how much of masochistic
              "moralißing" does it have
to take place, trans-temporal
  and justifying
                 the mono-spatial realm
of a "past", and, "now"
                before being crucified
is no longer deemed
the same as labouring with
                       a hammer, or a chisel?!

i say that: metaphorically
frothing at the mouth.

firt i learned to throw a punch
onto my face...
   give myself a plum just beneath
the eye socket:

   now i know the mea culpa mantra,
as i know the existence
of the index finger, being
differentiated from the fist...

and?

          the tua culpa mantra.
Nygil McCune Jul 2011
(From "Dying Whispers")


The first emotions he ever felt were pain and surprise. His feeling of pain came from witnessing the pain of another, and his surprise stemmed from the fact that he had, for the first time in his existence, ever felt anything at all. Explaining this all is a complicated matter, but I will do my best to make it intelligible. It is a story that passed the universe by with hardly a notice. Whether it was an accident or something other that has made me the only human to know this story is beyond my grasp, yet I feel this story is one that should be paid greater attention to, so this is my attempt to bring it to a greater audience. With any luck they’ll help me out with it in the long run, but there is really no appealing to them, so I feel that this is solely in my hands at this point.
Firstly, referring the character of this story as a ‘he’ is quite a misnomer. They, the beings that he is a part of, have no gender; they have no need for it. To be even more specific, they possess no body that we are capable of understanding. I can only guess at what type of form they actually have, and this is because they do not exist on the same dimensional plane as we do. If one of us were to superficially grasp the concept of their existence we might assume them to be gods, and I suppose, under some terms of classification this could be correct. But they are both more and less, hopefully by the end of this you will understand that.
Secondly, there is no name that we could attribute to them in our reality. I have grown into the habit of calling them ‘Whisperers’, because it is the closest word I could think of to describe what it is that they do. From what they have let me glimpse their kind is obscenely ancient, if not eternal. This is not to say that they do not have a form of birth and death, but seeing as to how I can scarcely conceive my own creation or demise I never would expect to understand theirs. By now you either can understand the complications of giving this character a gender, let alone attributing it with a name… or you think that I’m considerably insane, and I do not think I can blame you. Yet, for now, I will refer to the character as ‘he’ just for the sheer simplicity of it, and continue with my attempt to re-create this ancient story for those of you who are giving me the benefit of the doubt.
The Whisperers were present at the creation of our universe, whether they existed previous to it, or will continue to be after it I do not know. But they were there at the instant energy cooled and matter came to be, whispering and influencing everything. This is what they do ultimately; speak and influence with a staggering omnipotence. There are multitudes of them, however, so there are specific Whisperers influencing specific facets of the universe, but they seem to operate with a collective pool of knowledge. They are able to perfectly understand, at once, the entirety of our universe, as well as hundreds of others. From the actions and movements of an electron in an atom at the farthest reaches of space, to the complete movements of all the galaxies that make up space, and even to the thoughts and hopes of all beings capable of such feats, all is understood and seen, simultaneously, by each separate Whisperer. With this information the Whisperers view the changes that they have set forth in the universe, as well as the changes they never actually made and those that they will make.
Despite having a collective pool of information, they actually operate rather individually from one another with their influences, and rarely get involved in the affairs of other Whisperers, yet, often the actions of one will affect the actions of another. Each Whisperer affects it’s own portion of the universe. There are some who concern themselves with affecting the movements of  several constellations, while others may focus on the growth and changes of a singular plant or animal. Every facet of our universe we can conceive has at least one Whisperer affecting it, and even things of other universes our minds cannot come to terms with are governed. Even the things we have come to assume as human creations such as mathematics, language, politics, religion, and musical theory are, rather thoroughly, controlled by the Whisperers. Not even the emotions of any single creature are unnoticed or unaffected by them.
The first few paragraphs from the story "Dying Whispers" in the Book of Purple, Blood, and Sand series. Enjoy
lilah raethe Oct 2013
I couldn't even feel
              the breeze
until you went inside

You keep me warm,
       keep me secure
          like a blanket
on a cold winters night

The breeze chilled me--
it assaulted my
             arms,

I never even felt it
ten seconds
before

and maybe I'm crazy
for attributing the cold
to you,
but everything changed
and the only
independent variable
was
      you.
Edward Coles Mar 2014
The old stars petrify in place.
Stone-set heartache over sequences
of bar and melody;
they remind us of pain immortalised
in the human race, and that in itself
is enough to fill your curtains
with happiness.

I miss the blind Parisian Busker.
The old tunes over the river
as I feigned language;
as I swelled in my heart at the
sight of the branches under
faint March sky. Tears roll down,
and I am a soft fool once again.

I remember being seventeen.
I remember looking up at
the night sky;
attributing its hue and old knowledge
to that of an infinite God.
Now that cruelty is self-evident,
nature has no need for Him.

Now I scan the world
and land my eyes delicately on beauty
as a butterfly in grassland;
unworthy pilgrim of temper and waste,
I feel nature has no place for me
either. Without art and old sentiment,
there would be no place for me at all.

There are a thousand lovers
for us in the world. They fidget
in bus-stops;
excuse themselves in queues
and stay in for a fortnight
for every moment spent alone
in a group of old friends.

They cry in their bedsheets.
Lamenting love and lack of poetry
in everyday life;
they hold old songs to their chests
to keep them warm in the winter,
and they re-animate the limbs
of heroes sleeping in the mud.
Marshall Gass Apr 2014
Blessings. How discreet they lurk uncalled
unexpected and blossom, flower like, slow
sweet abundance, waltzing between wonder,
hope expanded wide-eyed heaven sent
settle feather like on clean sheets
of meaning. Always useful.

Thanksgiving  makes lists of lucky stars
and reasons spring from forgotten places
where we watch in amazement, as
the placement of benefits grows
adding shape to all welcoming arms.

We name them exotically. Feng Shui,
numerology, astrology, numbers and games
dice spun out of control, six sixes
whatnot.  No luck and randomness
is called as explanation. Gazing into empty tea-cups,
stones, shells, skulls and bones
shaman-like, magical lotto numbers
yet cannot see how lady luck
plays her hand. ****** into a whirlpool
of unknowns we still embellish our minds
with constant waiting.

Author Notes

Lady Luck is dressed to take your hand. Did you ever win without attributing the blessing to pure luck?
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Usque incorruptibiles aeternum vivet in aeternum
                                         (356-323 B.C.)

The Regressive Legend tells that this good piece of muscular meat and brain too, was born to write his entire story dying with the blood of Etruscan Steeds, each one had golden piercings on the internal hanging of their six paranasal sinuses, to seal life by this blood-tightness. Franciscan timeless swordsman, so that with his last four molars it would give way to amalgamated crystalline light and overflowing from the gums of the period that soaked blood in the equestrian fields. With which from the ventral turbinate he would be in the first row giving pendency to the Troops of the Great Darius, from where his Alikanto Horse, dressed in degrading dust, changed his Etruria marble saddles with his paranasal attributions, and his brain roots of the hypothalamus pillar who gave them super alchemical excitements and compulsions, super powerful attack to arrive at Tel Gomel 7 days before, supported by the elixir of the Fires of the reinforced steel legs of his Alikanto, with whose entity they came out in droves looking like when they ran at great speeds pretending to be more than a thousand equine Etruscans escaping from the Culture of the Vulture war in a rectilinear scourge of speed in an inordinate trajectory by the Gaugamela tapestries.

Vernath; in one of their lives he was aware of broker comments. Along the long avenues there were countless soldiers who had taken possession of their regression! Many spoke loudly through the pavilions of their stateless conscience. After putting their good feeling of great good sufficiency, they called to him to loud voice which with little will he could hear. Then he heard himself say saying ...; They talked about me? Sooner or later I will be with my therapist, she says that before going to her office she was already dictating to approach her great Christus Martial test in Gaugamela. From the six strings of his devotional he came, taken with both hands with great force, to bend from the eyelids of his intruding Sibyl, to travel through the minimum must of the Solstice to reach the point of apogee closest to his epic, which I rescued with Eternal Life an obese arm from wars won by the peaceful Death, in the Way of oblique perpetrated committed soldiers that from Mosul swept him swirling with high bravery mounted in his Alikanto, before arriving at the low meadow forest of the Lid.

If it was a boy ... it was a Man. If he was a Man ... he was an offender of the fortress. If he was leisurely unfolded he always carried his sword, he never left it. Even his reconciling dreamed would be damaged if he deported him from his daily Christian offices. Vernath, is a living survivor precedent to the resurrected Alexander the Great, after 323 BC .. But when they breathed the same glorious air, both looking at each other, brandished cutting the sharp rudeness that divided them with the 6 Golden swords, from 6 angles of strategic fords to die. several times to challenge the pain that surpasses all life the golden strings with blood "Hexachordia Caelestialis Mortuorum", From the musical scale of agony of the sheep plains that are prey to the melodies of the scythes strengthened by the fear of the trembling of the charismatic migrant .

Vernarth was raised as befits a Greek prince, with heroic tales from Joshua de Piedra's epic poetry. He was part of a culture that demanded that great men despise personal danger and take risks to gain experience. His genealogical ancestors came from Sudpichi, near the Talamitense / Chile reign.
He also received teachings from Kalavrita's Etrestles himself in philosophy and science (Kometerium Messolonghi / Editorial Palibrio - Bloomington USA). Since childhood he was a charming guest for the guests of the court. Etrestles was named their teacher, largely to control recklessness and aggressiveness by at least tempering them with more philosophical and civilized values, far from all insomniac excess.
In this he did not achieve complete success, because his obstinacy led him to run around the world barefoot and without clothes. Vernath, far from obeying his parents. He would go out at night and chase the Moon pregnant with pale Solar light on foot to attack it and tame its silver enclosure on its Etruscan steeds, exuding the naused locked in its loopholes.

He learned a great deal from his tutor and became a highly scholarly man watching for Messolonghi and a keeper of the confines of the Kalavrita macro heavens. But he remained essentially the brave boy who spat too blasphemous atomic alcohol on the Cyclops, who wanted to be Hercules surrounded by himself without parallel. Alexander's inspiration was Etrestles; Homer's accounts of his exploits inspired Vernath in his general attitude of putting his books beyond his memoirs and bibliographic insights.

It is likely that he was seen as a brand new version of the classic Greek heroes with divine blood in SudPichi ..., good piece of muscular meat and brain. To a large extent, this was true more than her own Sibyl lying in her lived regression in the decadent heights of Gaugamela's flushed proximity.

Vernath was an extremely aggressive commander who considered any type of defensive preparation as a sign of weakness, so he dared to speak out in opposition to Saint Augustine; The personality of Saint Augustine of Hippo was iron and it took very hard anvils to forge it, attributing to her apathy not to proceed with the courage of the great Maker, for her encyclopedic fervor and scientific rigor. Perhaps in cowardice, for not facing the mysteries of the word of the present Gods. He was therefore encouraged, rather than dismayed, when the Persian army rallied behind the Gránico river, forcing him to stun across it in front of his predicted opposition, like a sovereign crusader. It is the cross of the plain that in oblique route, can rescind the old word task of the ritual punishment of the sacrilegious Pharisee death that lacks.
Vernath with more than 180,000 faithful followers, declared that the ******* did not have confidence in the victory of the greatest affront, and they counted on the pronounced banks of the river to restrain the intensity of their attack enough so that the Persian cavalry defeated him by accumulating centimeters, to gain deadly meters. He launched his cavalry across the river at the point where the enemy seemed strongest brooding, degraded soldier, and after a fierce skirmish he succeeded in driving the Persian cavalry absent from twilight elixir value alongside the extermination of the voiceless I neither sing nor sing.
The second Persian line expired, the Greek mercenaries, held firm, but was slaughtered in less than five variations of the Sun as a declaring manifesto. Depleted of jubilant water resources, the Granicus established the moral dominance of Vernath's army over his enemies and forced Darius to adopt an even more attitude. Local populations Halicamaso, a nearby port moved their lines more than 5 kilometers in their retreat retreated, before the victorious siege since he was awarded by the natural immensities of the forests of Sudpichi, together with his beloved father Bernardolipo, after consonating suspicious corners from the Osho Tarot, when he drew his sword and upright lunge on the first card, on the instep of the undefeated and naive ignorant warrior, versed strenuous mercenary.
VERNARTH ETERNAL LIGHT
Storygiver Oct 2017
My sister said she saw you
not long after we broke up
she said
“She’s…not been doing so well”
And the way her pause felt
coming from someone who
is never lost for words
Told me everything I didn't want to know
about the shortcuts and the destinations they lead to
I know I have no right
To the answers of questions never asked
I just wish you had told me.
Wish you had said something.
I can understand why you didnt though.
How this must have ground your teeth down on the pavement,
As your tongue walked every excuse home you could think of.

I wonder how you first found out
if it was with a distaste for the bitter black coffee you loved
Or in a yearning for porridge again
honey sweetened and spiced by cinnamon
Oats rich on your grieving, no appetite tongue

I wonder if
When all was said and done
You starved yourself like you said you never would
To have your body wax concave
Instead of convex as if to reflect
The parabolic curve of pain pinched waist,
Hourglass carelessness
Answers to the equation of us.

I wonder if your resolve hit as hard as the realisation did,
Or if you anaesthetized yourself to the question,
The way you said you would never drink your pain away again.
And I wonder if had known sooner
if there would have been any room in that excuse for me too.
 
When you found, did you pat your stomach absentmindedly
Or did you just brush it aside?
Did you name it burden, or curse, or something to take care of, or did you not name it anything.
But simply called it goodbye?

If it had been a girl, I would call it serendipity
Its got a nice cadence to it
and I think that something
equal parts ****** up us
could grow into a name like that.
If a boy, then Bump, or Oops or Accident after his father and his ignorance

Had I the choice I wouldnt wish it anyone else

So I know I shouldn’t name possibilities just to grieve them,
But I only just found out the cost of shoebox coffins
And the unworn boots that fill them.
Maybe I am attributing too much weight to a collection of cells not much bigger than a fist
But I know the weight of that in my stomach,
So I can’t imagine how the absence of it felt in yours.

I do believe in choice,
And I won't pretend I have any idea
The choices you must have gone through
Nor will I compare asking only promises of me
To requiring 40 weeks of you
 
I just never got asked what my decision would have been
And I wish it would have mattered too

If you need to – I still want to talk
I have a cup of tea waiting
Grown cold from being 3 months too late
Just like we were.
awesome apothecary addressed as Agamemnon  
alleviates anxiety, and alimentary aggravation
anodyne appeasement arrests ailment
amphetamines acquaintanceship assuages
agonizing aches also advocates amorousness

assiduously activating admiration
aggressive attacks assault air afoul
affable affinity affects adumbration
anatomical accidental addiction attested as academic,

although afterward abnegation absolutely arduous,
affianced attired apparently as an anomaly
Ares and Abyssinian Astarte admixture
acquiescence affliction affected adroitly,

and abruptly abends accessible
altruistic alms axed
albeit admonishing, alluding,
and attributing authored

autonomous anonymous adroit arriviste agents
accompanying as accomplished accomplices
accredited ace advertisers
applaud ascendent assaults amidst agonizing appeals

acting all acrimoniously apropos
avowedly ardently, and antagonistically, agitating
appositely advocating ancillary assistance  
addict adrift afloat anchors away

assails along, among, and an alias archenemy -
adorned abominable assassin alters ambition
adroitly, aggressively, absolutely
addict announces asseveration

against avid admonishment
alarmingly annulling authentic affiliation
anew anonymous ability acclaims alignment
aegis actually adversarial abetting attrition appetite

acceleration ascendent after aplenty anesthetization
additionally activating arced analogous arrow
advancing added abdominal and arterial agony
abject ambivalence arrests accomplishments attainable

any artistic avocation absconded
asper auditorial approbation, animadversion
artificial aggrandizement abrogates astuteness
appropriate adjudication affronted

alternative afforded amnesty about acing audioslave
as aerosmith ambition assumes arriviste affectation
already appalling alacrity awakens amendment
although Awol administration adamant

acrimonious affront agonizingly attributable
announces another afterworld
apparent ailing apparition
ardent allegiance asking anyone appreciable affix
apathy abounds attending apriorism allotment.
Necropolis of Hellenika / Kímolos
Tsambika / Philo of Alexandria

They passed each other on the outskirts of Archangelos to go to Tsambika, going to the Necropolis of Helleniká where he was waiting for them more than 400 kilometers to the west of the Cyclades, precisely in Kímolos where they would do the colloquy with to do the channeling with the Necropolis. Etréstles had traveled with Kanti the steed; on his back, they saw the distance before they arrived at Mandraki in Rhodes. They all headed down the coast towards Archangelos, but Etréstles went to Helleniká, the Vas Auric was landed on Mandraki for the purposes of the Creation of Vernarth together with the Apostle Saint John. Kímolos, it is on this island that the famous beginning of the procession towards the outskirts of the cities was to deposit their sacred remains on the way to a better one, here were the martyrs who were used to Etréstles since he cohabits in delay with Drestnia for the new millennium (His female of hers) with which he resides in the Koumeterium of Messolonghi in the ninth vertical cemetery. Having a chapel and altars this place was propitious to create between Kimolos and Tsambika which was so many kilometers away, so the meeting performance between villages would be seen in its entirety to be resurrected and worshiped between the Cyclades and the Dodecanese with pious exercises between both latitudes precisely in the chapel of Theoskepasti, while in Tsambika it would be in the Panagia Tsambika monastery. Etréstles carried in both hands some matches of some population dowries with laws of affability and generations lived there without knowing each other between the two islands and tabernacles, arguing canons of burial and exhumation. In this case of performance refer to the Vas Auric of Limassol that brought the construction of a world of the right angles for the neat reconstruction of multi polygonal spectra, adopted for the first time in Kímolos to be retransferred to a logical philosophical-architectural division seeking to enclose the perfect plans where the new Christians will reside, between Rhodes and the west of Kímolos re-installing themselves among more than a third of the venerable ones who rested in Helleniká, in syncretic neatness with dissimilar populations and creeds.

Saint John the Apostle with Vertnarth, Raeder, and Petrobus plus Eurydice would bring from the rubies of Alexandria the incorporeal honor of Alexander the Great, turning both island sites into palaces of the Muses of Helleniká for the scholars who would be at the canonization of Vas Auric. Being the precursor of the chapel of the Theoskepasti, this performance of erudition will be endowed with the new status for Philo of Alexandria present here, now being a co-demiurge who will convert this necropolis city into duality with Tsambika for distinctions of the rituals and homilies, reducing the inputs basics in ceremonies. Philo of Alexandria says that only God protects the Jews, adding to what Philo wrote in La Legatio ad Gaium, the Jewish delegation had trouble meeting Caligula and when they finally met him, the emperor declared that he wanted a statue of him to be built as Jupiter in the Temple of Jerusalem, which sowed desolation among the members of the delegation. Finally, this purpose was not realized thanks to the intervention of Agrippa I and the death of Caligula, Philo attributed the happy ending of both cases to Providence. This divine letter of these translators with Saint John the Apostle and Philo of Alexandria will make this homily the spiritual custody that will be preserved in these two cities and then towards the world of Vernarth of the Duoverse, so that invisible winds blow from the chapel of Kímolos to Panagia de Tsambika, in the frameworks that feed the Hebraic and Hellenic boundary “translating Greek into Hebrew, but in two universal sites of creation in the Theoskepasti chapel and Panagia de Tsambika, about the magic of the meeting of omniscience and grace. Says Vernarth: “with the interpretation of Philo of Alexandria and his exegesis, I will rub the tract of the successions of infinity legitimately stored the creation thought of the ZigZag Universe with the Parapsychological Regressive authority now circulating in a sniffing universe with a Verthian genealogy, tempering with my Falangist disciples but being biblical when it becomes the occasional emaciated mob of a world that falls degrading with its last pieces and challenges of the world associated with an allegorical spirit, contracted to wings of ethics and doctrinal rectitude. I have two candles in each hand, similar to Etréstles in Kímolos and in Helleniká, making delights of pleasures in these ceremonies to create the world’s ignored in the office of the super compassionate language, in more than seven days that add up between the Sun and the Earth, in a sub-mythological world being ourselves our own executioner established on the ***** that falls from the match of the wick of my Lucerne in its own mood. I still have a memory of who and of each one who will always be in my prayers, reopened in a sacredness less than my own end, here I will not continue to be stored. Rather I will continue to fall, exhumed from the very storehouse and from the struggle of the thistle that falls from itself rounded up to be competent to explain himself biblically as if he had never before been read ad limit of the doctoral, and sacred in the work of Philo of Alexandria here with us leading and there in the Necropolis on another thorn; as a perpetual creeping species growing here as an unvarying summer plant in cooler climates, which would usually be prostrated on the Helleniká slab with radiating branchy stems extending the fractal distance between Kímolos and Tsambika in thistle´s ceremonies. The hirsute silts will come from the genesis of their spiritual temporal being the same wool of the whirlpool of all the weeds attached and oppressed to the lamp of the gargoyles that are tuned together with the Gulpers of Archangelos in a happy diet following patterns of even, and odd thistles spring in the Cyclades and the Dodecanese. The Parapsychological regression XIV century - Saint John the Apostle says: “from Filerimos a sidekick monk of Philo of Alexandria has come with the image of the blessed Immaculate ****** and painted by Saint Luke the Apostle. The Knights of Saint John built the Monastery of Saint John in Rhodes with this image; everything comes from there on the Miraculous Hill of Filerimos, and the temple of Athens Polias was converted into a proto-basilica with a three-bay nave dedicated to Her. The church is known since then for housing the figure of the ****** of Filerimos (Our Lady of Filerimos). In the fourteenth century under the rule of the Knights of Saint John a monastery was built here surrounded by cloisters cells and a series of chapels, that is where the figure is the miracle worker and is reverently guarded. Being a Capuchin order after the Ottomans destroyed it; it was rebuilt by the Italians. With this image we canonize the Vas Áuric in the homily prior to the spiritual link with Etréstles in Kímolos, before every morning they illuminate the sacred Earth of both latitudes in the mystical house of Saint John the Apostle with the herbalists on the wind to fight for the Somnia in Hortum et Flos Herbarium in Kímolos, Garden of Flowers and Dreams in Herbalist in Kimolos. Knowing that the Universe is approaching the Vernarthian Duoverse, Saint John the Apostle decided with the Birthright to establish a Duoversal Garden in Kímolos with the aim of laying tremendous foundations on the base of the pre-Christians and apostolic who enlisted in the Greco-Hebrew world with the addition of compression, and medicinal valences for the herbalist of Kímolos, in such a way to reissue it in the monastery of San Juan in Rhodes and the Panagia of Tsambika. Since the grains grew and germinated they became thickets of great predestined forest in Rhodes, aspiring to continue being a well-known theology in Greek also being sufficient testimonial about its Aramaic originality, being addressed to the Sanhedrin, 37-42 AD Before Caiaphas and redirecting it to his brother-in-law Theophilus of Annas. The Aramaic Apocalypse, also known as 4Q246, is in one of the Dead Sea Scrolls, found at Qumran, with notable early messianic mention of the Son of God. Saint Luke says in the voice of Saint John the Apostle: “4Q246, we are children of God…, the Highest, the Messiah as a messianic voice, being able to be confused with the Beast or the Messiah but Philo of Alexandria will be there saying “I always ignored with the most blessed indifference to Satan, because therefore in this Aramaic manuscript he only has, and will reside forever and ever in his Messiah” Given this situation, the commanded expressions were those of astragals mysticism in herbalist and botany in this manuscript, since the unfortunate leftovers are the freshness and splendor of the flowers caressed by the wind that arrived at that moment; in regard to the wind of the Anemoi being eight gods that correspond to the eight cardinal points from which they came and were related to different seasons and meteorological phenomena, but he heralded the excitement of the Cyclades, like Sound of Sounds between Narcissus of Sharon and Lilies of the Valley. The audio-images were avocados forming the deep thickets that will move according to the inclinations of the planets, each time the Universe approached Greece among all the cisterns with water for the flower meadows that Vernarth in litanies was assigned to the paths that lead to the Vas Auric.

Vernarth says: “With these titles “Vas spirituale, Vas honorabile, Vas insigne devotionis, Rosa mystical, and Regina sacratissimi rosari”, I have to transform all the astragalus, and shrubs into the consorts with the presence of the jacaranda vase of living human nature in virtue of the meeting of the Universe-Duoverse, for the herbalist of Kímolos now imprisoned in the Vas Auric of Limassol. "Sweet Nectar of the dying, eager for eternal hunger and sweetness in withered flowers"
The end of Parapsychological regression XIV century
Saint John says Apostle: “Helleniká and Tsambika, will be the lily, the saffron, the rose and the violet but also new ones, like the marigold and the chamomile making of all a diadem crown to place the world of the Duoverse in all its radius, for the star that illuminates par excellence as a white planet without thorns, which is perfect among the perfect, anti herbicide of language and of incarnation as in the Empyrean the medieval sky in the highest of heavens. It is likewise in the place of the physical presence of God, where angels and souls reside in Paradise between caltrops and Rosas towards the alimentary plane of conventual voice, and tonics of the glycogenic Milky Way sipping third-grade milk to curdle in the children who have not been a Messiah yet. Paths of thorns will guide visitors to this gallery of flowers and plants through the Panagia monkish for the holy homily with the Lilies and through low valleys, where no more Lilies can escape from their chains of the Liliorum genome in the valleys of the galactogenic virtue. Like Mother Rosette and son Lirium, being the mother of everyone and of that…, there… your son, “Myself in the path of the three Mary’s”. Over there in the desolate place, a columbine carries me imprisoned on my heels as a bond of a son who makes my steps with the Columbine of my saving feet” At 320 meters of altitude Still, Life appeared concealed behind the Vas Áuric descending…, here everyone approached the auric circle of Moral that made them authors of the proximity of the Universe falling on Greece, and the Herbolaria that fell with all its reliable structure in the foliage where many more species appeared such as thilts, Laurel, Olive, Linen, Grenade in a simple and nuanced devotional with the pro status of the delegate; the same Hexagonal Primogeniture to make the cinnabar fistulas that were elemental by the different associated colors, and by Grail tutorials that looked indigo on top of some Rhododendrons. If it is eschatological, it is in the mystical nets of the Empyrean further from a form that is said to be called a form of antagonism, between Cardinals and their dead Lilies. As first among the last, the bulbous and clayey Tulip of the orbital and basilica symbology, peacemaker and philosophical Eritrean for spiritual quests that toil outpourings from the Empyrium, reaching the Messiah on his Colt on his way to Bethany. Around the Monastery, everyone could be seen as they arrived to the beat of the cymbals and aulós, among lyres that prowled tickling the inquiry to rest their fingers, or perhaps dressed by some Trojan villain augur in those of "Daedalus". Being the latter, here a tulip with flames of a true seeker trying to sacrifice subsistence daring over the risk of the resole of salvific death or perhaps dressed by some Trojan villain augur in those of "Daedalus".
Daedalus says: “After the incident with Perdix, I Daedalus was expelled from Athens. I then went to Crete, and in the kingdom of Minos I was placed in the service of the monarch. One of his tasks was the creation of Thalos, an animated bronze giant who defended the island from invasions. By order of Minos, I built the labyrinth to enclose the monster; the labyrinth was a building with countless corridors and winding streets opening into each other, which seemed to have no beginning and no end. Minos locked me up with my son Icarus, whose mother was Naucrate, a slave of Minos in the same building. The reason for the confinement was the collaboration of Daedalus in the escape of Theseus from the labyrinth, I have to lament for the ****** of Perdix, now turned into Partridge who now carries in his claws the creation of the Universe-Duoverse, turned into his own, and myself in envy neither harassing me about my endings, and neither starting nor finishing. That is why I appear here coming from Crete, to wrap myself in the garden and its mystery closing all the madrigals and hedges, like a world that has created me, in its splendor, seeing the humility fragrant with violets grafted onto lavender with my soul now, of a somewhat syncretism Hebrew-Hellenic and Mythological sub-Mythological, like a nobleman who walks free and without chains… passing through the Parthenon to put on tiaras in dresses that are adorned with Linens, but of evangelical lineage here in Kimolo.

In Kimolos; Helleniká Necropolis, Etréstles was suspended in a columbarium equivalent near the lapidem of the necropolis. There was a great amount of accumulated air enclosed in the musty cinerary walls, with the translucent specters that fluttered through other metropolises that transited inconsistently in their proto-masonry, and some resembled pink jaspers on some grooved slabs, letting pale dovecote rhizomes slip away under an oblique columbarium domain that manifested itself meagerly on an unstable podium of Folegandros. Adhering to this enormous exteriorization were Kanti, and Etréstles in their hydrothermal genesis, lying as a petra forms at a wide range of heat towards periodic effluvia of their Devonian geology, manifesting discreetly until a carbonization of sedimentary rocks attributing their curiosity when they continued to remain in areas favorable climatic conditions, simulating to be exordiums on thermal hydro sediments, leading to the carbonization of the surface of the necropolis with micas and serpentines, to cool down in the selfless natural fields that resisted the effect of the heat generated by the ZigZag Universe, etching each other on pyrites and graphite’s with the compactness that increases, and extends the widening of the mournful enclosure attentive to channeling emanations and traces, that will be the first loads of exegesis from Tsambika for prompt elucidation from Mount Hymettus in Athens, and continue to proliferate in hives of bees libating in its thickness towards the good-smelling necropolis causing its magnificent flowers and herbs to steam; so much so, that from the paved lipoids of honey astragalus and spectra will come out deposing to be toxic, yearning the strigilas or curved striaeons (reverse or straight), imitated from pagan sarcophagi.

Thousands after Thousands of Centuries after centuries, adorning themselves in the lapidem glossaries on the exterior fronts of tymbos that were embedded in the tholons, almost as in outright Constantine-Hellenic brilliance towards an unarmed cenotaph with their flat covers, pouring over them the devastated trisomy of Kaitelka, of whose diploid organism extras, aberrated by being parity triplicates of their greatest chromosomal and homologous hereditary complement. The vestiges of fossil whales here were generating disproportions of execrable variation, being destined to the patio of fall on them in three additional courtyards of marbles at the rate of inverted strata, revealing only some of their extremities appreciating them with semi-covered figures, and on reliefs filling again by genetic trisomy for gentile practices and lead them to the Christian Vas Auric. Faced with such a famous disproportion of fossil reliefs, they turn to the scourges of the Universe.

Panagia Theoskepasti Parapsychological regression Etréstles in Kímolos: The church of Theoskepasti, due to its position could be easily recognized by the invaders during their raids. However, according to a legend the church was veiled by dark clouds of mist and became invisible as soon as the assailants approached. Due to this legend the church received the name "Theoskepasti" from the Greek words "Theos" and "skepazo" meaning "God" and "watch" respectively. So, the name is 'God Veiled'. According to another tradition, when once a foreigner managed to get into the church and tried to steal the golden candle divine power cut off his hands. Also if it is watched over by God, so it is divine for the Creation that it will begin with the synchronization between both latitudes of the Cyclades and the Dodecanese. Etrestles After staying together with Kanti, they went from Theoskepasti to Hellenika, located in Dekas Bay on the west coast of Kimolos, here in the necropolis there are ruins of ancient tombs that would form part of the new humanity in the creation of the Duoverse, existing since Mycenae and the Cyclades next to the small islet of Agiоs Аndreas, also being part of the city. Many ruined tombs can be seen from the hill on the edge of Elliniká with some stones still in the sea between Kimol and Milil, in the vicinity of Psathi on this island located on the southeast coast. Kímolоs to Chοrá is 1 km away on the hill above the Psathi port from here the foreign ships trying to come to the Bay area sighted, for the advent of the Cinnabar on the scapulae that hold the Gates of the Necropolis for the effect avant-garde, and regenerator of souls that will resurface with more universal chromosome tints mutated from trisomy, more of extreme longevity. In the homily, an archpriest of the regional deanery will make a pastoral criterion for this gesture by virtue of eminence, and guide them through the orthodoxy of the chapel to the Episcopal organizational procession of the Vas Auric. It was already twilight and Etrestles was climbing onto Kanti's pony clutching the utensils of the homily, in the customary ritual before incensing and setting fire to the laurel and rosemary in the fords of Leto and Koumeterium of Messolonghi, it rotated in ellipses sprinkling crumbs of the purest loaf from Arcadia on a gray Monday with hummus to attract sour souls that they were in a catatonic state making them more esthetic or aesthesis, of reactionary rebellious natural aesthetics with nuances, then reincorporate them into the three courtyards in a magnificent concordance with Rhodes. When the Archpriest begins the talk, he derives his prayers from semi-inert materials that were made in communion with the chromosomal dyes; with the worms with absentmindedness of progenitor snakes that were grafted undulating, being in reality only worms that were amazed at the exhortation of the Archpriest in the ritual, circulating universals destined for his elegies and celebrating from an ambo or pulpit with classical Latin pronouncing the archpriest the way it died lunae, mutating it ****** to dies lunis by analogy with dies, on a dark Monday day but full of grace for the assistants doing the sermons to interpret the alabaster patios that will lead to Tsambika. The first worms were persecuted by Kanti, he believed that they were scatterings that emerged from the ground, such an earthly ecosystem was beginning to disown him due to the metamorphosis of annelids which seemed to increase their ultra-grave texture with the same remains of an irresolution without a sarcophagus, turned into sharp curves intestinal that were depressed breathing autonomously on consistent folds of the dermis of the oldest caste of the subsoil of Helleniká. Preexisting the distant origin of the Arcadias and they're dissected that silently followed the hummus and bobota, not to digest them with their suckers, but rather surround them and delegate them to explore the surroundings that would encapsulate the ground with the proximity of the transfigured universe to Vernarth's Duoverse, to phosphorus and emit the will-o'-the-wisp nitrogenous fires before the Archpriest, Etréstles and Kanti disquieting by an arcane movement. Being a full act of the herbaceous phagocytosis, they continued ascending in the curvilinear procession with their traces weaving moment without time, which was added to the sub-mythology and a finite sub-time, like unicellular procreating others that accelerated their physiognomy detached from their immateriality, towards a longer intake of the organic material on the hummus and exudation of propolis rhizomes. In this way, they resign when falling with serious cramps cleared of the digestive world, which no cell has tasted ******, but rather direct when breathing from Hellinika's lung lobes, comprised mostly by the alabaster sheepskin that was suspended to other colonies of worms that sailed to lean out towards the surface of the altar where they regenerated from the flow of the annelids. Archpriest says: “The frame of the Vas Áuric arises from the nuclei of the medallion, pending a high presence of insulation. With high mobility between the tissues and amino acids of the annelids, new basal cell functions even being visible for Etréstles and not totally for all yet. The image of the medal had a classified functionality and concrete information, but imperceptible chronological possibly being the first function of the icon in its justification with religious symbols and manifestations of the divine, and semantic still removed from a theoretical auto-iconic. When reading in Vas Auric, "What two men do not see, a man sees who does not see..., what the creeping animal sees, self-prisoner of his lack of vanity..., He will see it". Being epistemic images that provide more distant knowledge of the sub-divisible organic matter in finite mortality towards the other eternal inorganic, contributing to the super complex neuronal development, in a veiled sensation that is lost between itself and its own bodies, being able to take them with its own differentiations”

Panagia Tsambika Monastery - Channeling Cinnabar: Vernarth commanded the three architectural courtyards of Tsambika for the Cinnabar layout. They climb the steps that lead to this monastery at the top of one and to the very connection of the homily with Helleniká. In this monastery they will have to censor three courtyards, all pointing towards the west of Mandraki Bay, on some pine trees all surrounding the virtual stained glass window of the portal that joins the main avenue with the ascent of the monastery, until very close to the Virginal Marianus icon and very close to the dividing wall from where Lindos can be seen. The Tsambika Monastery is four kilometers from the city of Archangelo, the height of the monastery is leveled with pebbles on its bare floor that led everyone barefoot, towards the three nearby patios. Cinnabar as a polygonal crystal would be specially used for the perpendicular ceremony of Mercury, to sensitize the climatologically the variation that would be appreciated once it began to sponsor the bones that would spread in the extreme longevity of annelids exchanged from the moldy alabaster arcades, and carried by alluviums of crystallized mercury, granting together with the Panagia of Tsambika fertility, and parental conception for the new Universe-Duoverse of Vernarth, extending life farther than the first-born descendant's first ancestor, being the cinnabar the diversity of versed uses now been given in the upright channeling with ultra vital extensions with Helleniká. The alabaster and the three columns of these sulfated stones form compact would dare to hydrate in the silos where the windows will be poured, this is where the sub-mythological specimens detached from any temporal dimension will be used, leaving sapiens annelids free will recombining the diploid chromosomes, and profiting from molds of exact erratic aberrations to be vindicated in the dispensaries of Saint John the apostle. Thus adorning the perfumed areas intervened three cinnabar patios, for the sermon of the Vas Áuric. Thus inspiring the chair with the verses of Saint John on the immanence after the fifty days of the Messiah in epistolary verses and the evangelizations, elaborating vessels of the low rank of Faith to opt for expectations of moldings with new consciences of selenite clay, and refine them in messianic faith. Middle-range pebbles were subtracted for the interior and extramural floor of the Monastery, being rather Biblical Calcite for the Egyptian-Hellenic Alabastron psalmody praise perfume. This typology will be the quilt for the magistracy with a canopy glass exhibited near the tulip lamps, and ceiling lights of the monastery for the use of the diamantine sphere of the opaque panels that flamed from the intersection of the arachnids re sprouting from the current wind of cinnabar. Vernarth says: “Suitable for our consciences, we will open the channels in Kímolos before our subtle bodies that will make us divided just as we parabolize ourselves, before the airs of St. John the Apostle in the headdress of mediumship to reach the wavelength to Helleniká, the interactive vibrations will leave with the expression of deep reasoning after pontificating the Mandylion with the Vas Áuric, for the effect of its icon and idiomatic monologues for the edges of San Judas Tadeo and Veronica, for such a faced event in foreign forces before the Messiah, a coherent gadget will be made in the intermittence variants. The channeling to the Cyclades will go from east to west wading the Aegean and Mediterranean waters, through the channel of the Universe-Duoverse for inter consciousness between the Hexagonal Primogen in Tsambika, and the triad of Etréstles, Kanti, and the Archpriest in Helleniká, with high degrees of the light consciousness and conclaves between both synchronous homilies. With drowsiness before the Anemoi winds that will be crossing near the voyages of the Trojan chthonic ships, and before the fateful chthonic divinities for such deities in the Mediterranean substratum identifying more obviously with Anatolia which since prehistory has followed to the site of Troy, in a cheesy union plan for Agamemnon's loyalists, to defeat Hector between farms and revolutions of agriculture, and Akkadian worlds b.C., in peripheral outposts to influence the central regions of Greece and its maritime trade. Hydro-physical influences, for the cycles of the solstice and nature with life and survival after death that is at the center of concerns that are not translated. In Crete, the supposed cult of great Gods is transformed during the second millennium BC as new actors appear: various animals, plants, etc. Given the consciousness, it will be the channeled light in the three courtyards of alabaster and between the cinnabar by bending the re-fertilization of the Cyclades channels, which go from Rhodes and Kimolos, for discernment. Sometimes it is more gratifying to hear what you want to hear and not the real message, the egotistical mind that does not come from a series of daunted egos..., or signs of the technological shamanism, intervening artificial intelligence from maniacal administered consciences, being shrill for worlds of appearances and illusions. I Vernarth with our own Khaire Fíle…, in my mind I go to the vessels that sail through the landscapes of the elusive identity, trapping her in the totemic stratum, and tracking psychology, but a seer of her present ego. Today I will wear my Leonatus cap, to separate his anger from such a shadow that clouds my grief, and my own victimhood of reduced and meekness which spurns violence, blaming it on a ruthless kind of depression and excluding shame from everyone's own fear of everything. I will bandage my eyes against diseases that will heal after three days, to straighten the ecstasy that thickens towards the scaffold, staying in Golgotha with nothing, I will create the framework of cinnabar for the pain of the skull that trembles in my claws, until sleep becomes vaporous with anger and the harmless destroying itself before your egos, colorful throbbing towards your alien beings and scarified host. I will be waking up from my subtle and anthropomorphic subconscious dreams, with sentences that hurt my worst self-destructive delinquencies before the new memorial, on the veil of Theoskepasti with its science sheltering itself by giving in on the vanquished springs and inaugurating new miraculous courses where I will surrender, full of forgiveness and more distant from the veil that does not act as a viewer.

Duet time, Duet space, one with the other illusion unreal elements and epistemic images ignoring them in expeditions crackle my Duoverse, and temples of Tsambika with the decoded annelids mutating in trisomy with flat doors towards the Olives Berna. We look at what gratifies basting and plotting the positions of the stars of the universe that are attached like sheets worthy of almighty serials, and redoubled humor on the chthonic embracing tridents, before skewing Xyston as an original replica of the dream of a night in Tel Gomel. The counterweight of the message of light lagged behind the high astral like the little bear, bustards, and her angelic breath retreated in dissolution..., now if diva emotion I have my daring, and courage towards the binge of my omniscient prosopon, similar to omniscient telepathy, my soul lies and my emotion too because in this way I will treasure the value of panic by surrounding myself with the fears of resting, against the poles and sights of a peaceful energetic confrontation that will make them in Rhodes and Kimolos, channel the consumed human finitude and not eternal ad portas of his Áspis Koilé.

Unconsciously they will continue halfway with their bouquets of flowers for Valekiria, and may they never really take the time to tell her what time of eternity will make them more crowded for her, and her reliquary poem bursting into flame with its insidious outbreak and fear of telling him that if they revive they will be other Hellenic Hetairoi towards the vermilion light of the embodied sacrificed loop state as a "Being of Light". Oh ghost phenomenon that doesn't scare me... rather disappoints, clinging to the skins that die in the unexpected female muses in Gaia, with my burning and hypertensive ballast, still frequent in me... As conjecture and presence of Greek life..., having to be promoted and involved where they should be tempered to the contribution of biodiverse, and species for island life and its balance in the Aegean. The theorem will enunciate in the image of the Vas Auric as sounds of homeostasis in classrooms, properties of intervened annelids consistent, capable of maintaining them in a certain internal and stable condition, compensating for the changes of the explosion of the intervened patios, towards an environment through regulated exchange of matter and energy with the outside towards its (comparative metabolism), in the case of a form of dynamic balance with properties of Cinnabar brilliance, as a self-regulated biosphere in the conditions of the planet to make its environment (especially temperature and atmospheric chemistry) nobler with the species that make up life in the compass of two unmanned islands by beings from Gaia, rather as entropy in physical magnitude for a thermodynamic system in equilibrium, inhabited by dynamic beings that associate nobly for adaptations of worlds that are not born. It segregates them towards a departure measuring them from heightened numbers in states of zero compatible with the laws of that physics for the purposes of watchful guardians if Gaia's engine is turned on before this psychic and spiritual combustion. The laws of this system with closed circuits and brought will tend to maximize the entropy expiring inhibitory reactions for the traces of oxygen and nitrogen of the worms, making a sign of the levitated carbon dioxide to take it from Tsambika in two converged energies of Leviathan and Saint John the Apostle in moles of carbonate dioxide, battling surviving the impostor necromancers adverse to their conditions and reproduction, keeping these habitable for many who do not they enjoyed the life-death-life cycle. Greece, as it will now look regenerated and appropriate of laws and extensive fibers concerning moles of molecules said to be equal of said Vernarth hypotheses by way of sub-mythology, rather perching on the growing ivy and strangling the signs of satiety of life with properties in consonance with severities that hurt even to the sound of the rattles before the passing of the millennia! Fear, insecurity, and frustration did not fit because they will cut the Diospyros abenuz, with its stamens usually sixteen more hypogynous or inserted at the base of the corolla; as female flowers being greened or being converted into staminodes, Diospyros with generally tetra-locular ovaries or with eight locules due to false divisions, will make us channel by inseminating Itheoi demigods, under the staff of sub-mythology with Zefián, before the migrations in Helleniká begin, just as in this pact with silence and meditation and a burning flame, below the vulnerable and high insolated frequencies..., waking up in Gaia as a dozing fairy. Shamanic vested will grade synergy and simple science.
The Homily in the natural lassitude of the created, the Duoverse presented IHΣ, falling in the eighteenth letter of the Greek alphabet and in the duo hundred changes of physical remembrance. The PH (Hexagonal Primogeniture), is conceived in the presence of the Crismón, more Hellenic with the Vexillum banner and the Kantabroi to rescind the tired depressed zephyrs, since the quantum of memory was lost in the integrity of an earth acrophobia for the subsequent it would be air-water for this reason, preceded by the ceremonial that begins with the trimming of the abenuz Diospyros with its stamens usually sixteen plus it's hypogynous or inserted at the base of the corolla; like those of the female flowers having part of the gynoecium in the part of Tsambika, and of the androecium that will be of the Diospyros in Theoskepasti; usually tetra-ocular ovaries adapted to be inseminated for the raids of the demigods Itheoi and Duoverso, with the monogram HDD (Horcondising-Duoverso), tracing the bifurcations with Zefián; the chaos ordering up to modulated Theoskepasti. The changes have to be reborn in the stamen, being almost sterile and aborting in the chronicles of Galilee personifying the pollination benefit of the Diospyros resprouting in the same stem of the whorl even more so in each stigmatized part of Vernarth and Etréstles, carrying the IHS candles with the monogram and the Mandylion-Vas Auric, pointing to the Olives Bern. Before the seams of the carved heels and the canals of the annelids rise up through the alabaster up to the calyxes with the Chrismon hat. Filling the warehouse of Anemoi himself struggling with the roof, and forgetting his deposit of the breath on synaptic abbreviations continuing to argue with Saint John the Apostle in the network of Rhodes and Kimolos, in the bark of the sensory past and consequence of fallen gushes, and affecting being restored on the basis of oxygen-nitrogenated Nemo-genetic activation to summarize loss and gain of channeling between the Cyclades and the Dodecanese. The memories of the stuck Vernarth cerebellum will be loaded, trembling towards the marsh of the hippocampus where Zoroaster led the Magi to the end of the span and first-last border in the vicinity of Ein Karem. This evolutionary scale fluctuated in weak air masses with the increasing rise of the Meltemi over the Aegean taking them to Dekas Bay, on the knees of the colossus that cursed to avoid some delirium that could replace it's joint, remaining like this on a scale of reminiscent and unspoken emptiness..., it continues to be stated and not occupied and not, but raised towards the colossus from the ground of Vernarth which had unfolded bipartite from Rhodes to Kimolos, by way of the Verthian neuroscience whose prose emanated in the submissive glaciers of hyper-intuitive meditation (as a technique of knowledge and abstraction for functional links of improvisation, purgative discernment and yogic memory). All the nonsense is alluded to infringing the rationality of the Vas Áuric ceremonial in its phenomenology making curvilinear pauses to re-captivate phraseological, and diminished keys in the condensed equivalents to approximately ten terabytes from a homologous half surrendering almost when exhausted before both scholars, and their debts exchanged by driving..., thus recovering wave descents before reaching the bay of Dekas; Kímolos and final in the necropolis of Hellenika..., and vice versa before re-climbing in the middle of Mandraki, Archangelos and Filerimos to finish in Tsambika, Rhodes. As a parallel response to the archpriest not to alter the IHS monogram of the homily and the association in remembrance can affect the conduction of the mediate trance, almost prostrating it in the house of omission and frenzy, if it has to recover unstabilized. The sulfurous mercury component of the Cinnabar, came acidifying from the essences of the Vas Auric, already prospering in the tutelage of each auric conductor..., Archpriest and Saint John the Apostle, each one with the sulfurous of the Greek mountain and the arch of the Aegean Sea as a former karstic foundation for its diametric towards a change of reaction of chemical prisms up to the multi-angular of the topaz that Saint John the Apostle carried in his bag near the reliquary, hanging off some fringes of the Vexillum that had been placed near Vernarth. Immediately from the banks of the monastery, Raeder was walking with a lantern looking for those who might try to enter, he believed that it was his father from Kalymnos who came on another mission to be taken to the cinnabar, more on top of an encourage observing the quarters stationed in the sandbanks of Rhodes, Petrobus the pelican circling the ledges of the monastery, marking out the apparent slackness of his body and entreaties in case they ventured into Kalymnos for a good portent, in waters for tenth seeds and for all the rodines. From the cloister with one of its necessary dependencies, all were with white candles aggravated between the steps of each cell and attached friars they made an antechamber in the nave near the church on the hexagonal floor, being screened by the center of the garden where everything was dominated by the limits of the alabaster arcades, which only now pointed to the closet of the books, this time with plenty and saved voices with devotion. Chapter by chapter it was won..., for each cell, identifying each portion in identity up to the scriptorium and refectory, where this ceremony books were distributed to the infinite world of the Duoverse near the locutory to witness where Saint George and the Dragon raged, souring winepresses for the missal wine.

Sequence shot in Kimolos, Panagia Theoskepasti- Etréstles says: “according to what has to be said in this dimension, the word will be the Duoverse. Synchronically it will be aligned with the monastery in the Tsambika for the third hour after noon, reflecting on the unrevealed walls of the chapel on all the radiosities of the cinnabar, entering in electromagnetic lassitude through the trusses of the pulpit anchored in the Vox and mystical vortex, towards those who entered and left thousands of times through the counter shutters of the chapel, which collided crashing many times until by the glow of Cinnabar somewhat sulfurous, was mixed with the interlocking of some novas which also acted as a decoy for the Chrismón that Kanti carried the steed adjusted in the saddle on his back, as a mount in syntactic esotericism speaking with intangible brown colors of the Cinnabar.
Vas Auric
Uhh Who Jan 2015
it always pays off to be that guy
whom leaves a trail of ashes behind him
the charred remains of the hearts broken
and the egos crushed
by his sharp tongue and unwavering hands

it always pays off
to be the one in the room
with a bit of a sociopath streak
"Steve Jobs was my hero"
always a convenient excuse

it always pays off
to act without conscience
as you will live on in the memory
of those you have caused despair
while their lives will be short moments
of which you have no recollection

it always pays off
to act without consideration
"he's just so confident", they'll say
attributing your recklessness
to the type of confidence they can only dream of having

it always pays off
1/14/2015
Posing As Dystopian Rant

This prognosticator doth predict
potential based at current rate
sinister debacle that will
instantaneously annihilate,
which alarming (ohm my dog) turbulent
endemic chaotic spate

within human race poised to strike
doom and generate
shock tummy once amp pull goldenlocks,
now revealing a shiny baldpate
erratic behavior attendant prescient
intimations presage apocalyptic fate

while current commander in chief
didst unwittingly generate,
and sow the seeds of anarchy sparking
global conflagration that will create
instantaneous prime evil
total mortal kombat, cuz "FAKE" mandate

issued, when Trump went ballistic
loose sing rockets red glare,
when pressing hot button to demonstrate
thermonuclear supremacy,
sans 3D printable bomb
(albeit a moot point),

would render superfluous need way to late
to draft intestate
last (or perchance first, second,
third...) will and testament, tete a tete
perhaps minuscule (nee
infinitesimal) ordnance out of date

turns out a Department of Defense dud
eh, no surprise as aye narrate
finding Don tremendously irate
(blaming "crooked Hillary," democrats,
spongebobsquarepants,...yours truly...)
the list goes on, thus no need to iterate,

thus a sudden religious fervor gripped
the wide webbed world
attributing why weapons did not actuate,
which found pontiff in high demand

in an attempt to accommodate
frenzied zeal attributing aborted blitzkrieg
to divine intervention with bajillion
talking heads airing where to dedicate
material trappings to indigent, great
full not dead, plus those petty

criminals rightly or wrongly,
the strong arm of
lanced law did incarcerate
bowed down on daily and nightly basis
exploding huzzahs every
human did *******

"not prematurely," where
all walks of life integrate,
a spontaneous international
utopian revelation awoke
with linkedin diversity to promulgate
protecting the planet took precedence
yea right Matthew Scott - dear mate
only in the context of this poem I did create.
Alec Astaire Mar 2018
What do I show you?
That I can sing and write?
That I can play guitar or cook a mean filet mingon?
Hell, if I could single handedly save the
world from it’s inevitable demise
I’d still do so without any passion..

What can I bring to the table
When you’re the only thing that  I
can imagine attributing any worth to?

When you are the air I breathe
Why I’m caught up in this mess
When you’re the echoes of my every desire
How could I ever bring enough to
your table?

Could someone please tell me:
When you’re standing in the presence
Of everything you’ve ever wanted
How could you ever be worthy of its
existence?
formerly: Untitled
I lay alone here at night
Feeling the cool breeze blow through the window
Pondering ones existence and attributing meaning to it all
I lay alone here at night
thinking of what might of been
past regrets
re-writing personal history
I lay alone here at night
Peeking through the open slits in my blinds
I see the stars that light the night sky
Each one a solar system with planets and ecosystems all of their own
I see the direction of time
All the living beings that have trod here before me
I see a universe 14 billion years in the making
A planet so rich of life it as if the divine intended it that way
I hear birds chirping
dogs barking
cars driving
I see the inconsequential fight against time
The fighters
The lovers
The winners
The losers
The rise and fall of nations
the Ideaologies that cause seperation
I see the greatness in man
The innovation
The kindness
The progression
The determination
I lay alone here at night
Yet I'm connected to everything and everyone who has, is or will have existed
Ajey Pai K Jun 2018
What a miracle spins off the eyes,
Of a master capturer of colours!
For his harlot is the dancing lights-
Of a happy day's golden hours.
What with these attributing sounds-
Of a furiously futile attempt at beauty?
For what a line of poetry gets to stir-
Is foolish beside the language of images.
Words are arch enemies of colours,
Shining vibrantly on a lazy afternoon-
And of the beauty that lies in the sight-
Of the night sky with a cloudless moon.
No poem can ever stake a claim-
Of ever making hearts skip a beat
Or goosebumps riling on the necks,
As portraits of women with rosy cheeks.
If the poet sees what the sun cannot
And the best words need inspiration,
Let this be a reminder to all your faculties
That a picture is worth a thousand words.
Extracts from my musings at midnight.
Arry Oct 2020
Chapter 1 – The new kid

It was 8 in the morning; Vaani was already late for school meanwhile mom couldn’t resist making her gallop that whole glass of milk. She couldn’t help it, “ Why do we need this now when I should be chatting with my buddies in class!?” She let out an exasperated argument while holding the hot steel glass. Swallowing it in half a millisecond, she politely ordered dad to drive her to school. The weather wasn’t any different from the day before, however there was this strange shade of dark blue which let itself spread all over the town. The sky was unusually favorable and was worth staring at. Approaching the school building, dad gave a quick reality check and she instantly shifted from her unusually-aesthetic-blue-ceiling dimension. “Thank you, Lord Shiva!”, she expressed her gratefulness to one of the Hindu holy trinity for helping her reach on time. The ultrasonic giggles and chatters in the corridors were the evidences that prayer hasn’t begun till now. After the prayer, quite in resemblance with the daily chores at home, all of them arranged their tables and non-expectantly waited for Ms Prerna. Ms Prerna is the head of the English department in school, the fact that English is a subject taken least seriously by the students is something that she’s not completely oblivious of. They have no Brutus-Caesar business with her, but on the contrary, they do detest beginning their mornings with an hour learning a language they never learnt in class. Ms Prerna stormed into the classroom with an energetic vibe, a clear indication of a 10-minute extension of the lesson. Comme d’habitude, everyone sang out their good mornings in a rhythmic symphony. However, it wasn’t just them alone contributing to the morning paradigm. A throaty and electrifying voice like the arrival of tsunami yet humble and calm like the low waves at the evening beach could be heard with utmost clarity. Ms Prerna furrowed, consequently her wrinkles drowned into the corner of her lips to curve a smile. “I see we’ve got a new kid in class today!”, she rejoiced the arrival of the mysterious voice, and as a part of the necessary tradition, she asked him to come out and introduce himself . Vaani was curious at top of her senses to witness the physicality of the hoarse sound waves meanwhile, the husky lad came out of his chair, the long and heavy strides he took were attributing to his tall stature, as he came in close proximity, one could experience the delicious odor of the seven seas. It almost felt as if all the water bodies reincarnated as a male progeny. He turned. Towering young lad, whiten-hued with a light swarthy shade. Covered in the translucent sheets of skin, his veins ran up and down and finally converged at his wrist. Physique so lithe and muscular, one could substantiate that he wouldn’t have even heard about unhealthy junk. Clean shaven with a downward slanting jaw, lips fixed like a warrior’s bow, stable and subtle. Short hair but every bit uprising. Then, he raised his gaze, stark blue eyes violent enough to execute someone but at the same time, comforting and intoxicant enough to rejuvenate every being. Invoking an obedient smile, he set forth his introduction, “Good Morning Ms Prerna! I’m Neel Samudravanshi and I’m quite excited to be a part of this class.” Neel Samudravanshi, (literally – Blue Descendant of the Ocean). Every bit of his name was associated perfectly with his personality! “A very good morning to you too Neel! I hope you find the environment of the class comfortable and welcoming. I see you’re planning on taking seats with Akaash, he's one of the most diligent boys and I’m sure you won’t face any difficulties adjusting here as long as he can guide you. I’m pleased to welcome you! Please take your seat child.”, the very traditional paradigm of bragging the hospitality was yet again fulfilled by Ms Prerna, but this time she seemed to be reflecting unnecessary geniality. It appeared as if she was saying those diabetic utterances out of some sort of devotion. There was something peculiar about him, something very obscure. Obviously, he was no Derek Hale from Teen Wolf, nevertheless there lied an inexplicable enigma in his eyes. The clock kept ticking with increasing intensity, or maybe it was the sound of Vaani’s impatient disposition desperately waiting for the clock hand to stand ***** at 9:10. At 9:05, she was quite edgy, however, just out of insignificant curiosity, she glanced over at Neel, “How the hell can he be so much involved in this sadistic lecture?”, she murmured to herself constantly scrutinizing the mindfulness of the new lad. The bell rang, one could hear a great reverberation of amalgamated relieving sighs, after all, they weren’t the biggest fans of the subject. The consecutive periods were in this order, maths, maths, chemistry and sports. The school administration was thoughtful enough to award them with a 10-min break after the highly endearing first period and as usual, all the boys and girls gathered around their preferable tables along with their preferable humans, commonly known as “friends”, this is exactly where the purpose of uniforms and identity cards fails. A short span of pause is sufficient enough to cleave the pretentious union into numerous tribes of four or five. Vaani was one of the most desired and voguish girls of the school and yet the humblest darling anyone could ever run into, however today, she incorporated a great amount of inquisitiveness in her actions. Partly rejoicing the short break with her school-oriented social circle and partly switching sight over to the common point of interest, she felt distracted. Meanwhile all this short gala, Neel seemed comfortably addicted to his assigned place in the classroom, motionless, eyes subtly penetrating the mid-point of the rectangular board, face spewing a burning backscattering confident look. Amidst all this, Akaash patted him gently on his back and made a generous effort in transmitting the complicated art of socializing, “ Hey Buddy! I know it’s your first day and it truly ***** to be around a group of total strangers for this long, but you’ve got to get up and interact with them. Judging your taste, the he’s aren’t worth it but the she’s are so totally worth running into!”, Akaash exclaimed with a formal and lame laugh, he definitely was one of the studious and academically extraordinary kids however, that didn’t turn him into a total nerd who spends 2 minutes stammering out of 3 while having a conversation with a person of the opposite gender. To reciprocate some generosity and acknowledgement, Neel finally called it a day on making love to his desk and his eyes weren’t tormenting that mid-point anymore, “ Whom are we starting off with, the he’s or the she’s?”, he asked, by putting on a charming smirk to get along with his helping hand. Akaash led him towards the girl-specific dense region of the mediocre-sized classroom and switched on his mingling device, “So ladies! This is Neel, the brand-new animal in the kingdom and I expect you all to get along with him, behave well with him, help him get through the absurd culture of this wrecking institution hahaha!”, the girls didn’t have the slightest idea of anything about Neel, but his personality was dynamic enough to make any of them fall for him. Tanya reached over to establish an amical relationship by shaking hands with him, but all she desired for was to swirl her long fair fingertips over his vascular forearm, “ Hey I’m Tanya! Tanya Kapoor, I’m sorry the kids here are too much occupied within themselves and it’s kinda hard to look after everyone you know.”, Tanya was a perfect gene of the conceitful teenagers who have a sense of superiority regarding their family, financial stature and physical appearance, moreover they are well-versed with the skills of pretentious-empathy which is why they’re able to dodge the entitlement of mean girls. Totally inconsiderate of the conspicuous semi-seductive motives of Tanya, Neel summarized his reaction in a bland handshake and the blandest smile one could possibly make. The domino effect of befriending was now functional or what one could assume to be a far-fetched attempt in successfully hitting it off with the out-of-league material for which the modus operandi was flattery and well that’s it. However, the last block of the domino was far apart from every preceding one, the one who wouldn’t follow the conventional trend and stand apart. Premonishing Vaani’s persona, Neel himself went ahead and stretched out his hand, “Hey!”, he addressed her. “Hey, I’m Vaani, I hope you won’t have to go through all this tedious intro-procedure over and over again.”, Vaani empathized with him as she knew how dull it gets after a while, getting summoned like a culpable to lay foundations of uncertain acquaintances, whom you might want to annihilate in near future. “I’m sure I won’t have to, Vaani. Thank you.”, he responded with some essence of eccentricity in his words, something that could leave one astray and disoriented in comprehending the verity. Although it shouldn’t come as a surprise, after all one could always get lost in the depths of the ocean.
poetryaccident Jul 2018
This plan evoked by demons’ prayers
assumed the worst of fellow men
condemned them by the stroke
of the dogma within a book
attributing falls before they occurred
explained as fate that must befall
with no recourse to a grace allowed
for the fallen ones with principle
these are condemned by ministry
cast aside as the defiled
while the tenets provide a path
for the flock to pardon’s glow

the magic wand would be waved
absolution for bloodied hands
a lifetime dismissed with a wink
patter forgiving what came before
they say the taint has been removed
still the stains hue the skin
while the victims are set loose
assured that Nick is at fault
this discharge is the start
as the imps rejoice with glee
now all acts are permissible
when holy talismans are held high

a gulf is fed from belief
permission given for crimson floods
damning the others to a worst fate
than imagined fires beyond the grave
the pit would be a relief
compared to torment then released
in the name of cult’s desires
to cleave the world with their love
in the end the demons laugh
their joke has run its full course
the innate good has become the bad
while the fiends may rule the world.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180715.
The poem “Crimson Floods” was written in a shorter time than most of my works.  I suspect the reason is that I am vehemently disappointed in the human side of religion.   Entire segments of the society are condemned only because they don’t believe in specific dogma.  The ability to have morality is only attributed to select group.  At the same time, individual from that group can be guilty of the darkest crimes against others, even as the same individuals are assumed to be released from all karmic responsibility because of they professed beliefs.  This becomes a game of rationalization in the eternal battle of “us vs. them”.  This war will never cease, but it sickens me to see spirituality, a required aspect of all lives, weaponized for partisan purposes.
Vernarth's term overage was not exhaustive, as Vernarth would return to Alikantus after his journey to Kanthillana for the Winter Solstice and Patmos in spring. He was collecting each time in the decantation of each corollary of texts, images, narrations, and epigraphs that were being deliberately written on the flames of the Apokálypsis. All the experiences of the tragic characters in Vernarth were embedded in the papyrological Datum once it was detached from the Dragon's snout. This result and action verse became the reconstruction of the cessation of a physical body, whose final living objective was to legitimize everything in which it was uniting in the nomenclature of written prosopography, advanced in all the roles of the ruler of their own history. parapsychological incorporated in its own self-analysis until reaching Everism that reconciles its mythology as something secondary to the Tragedy for all societies that evolve in a focused technocratic aspect and the rhetorical unsaying of attacking the world that was destroyed under a redoubled dose of anesthesia of the disgruntled ideological of being judged by the entire world as a being spawned in the papyrology of Pergamon in ruins. The visibility of him as an actor drags her with the vision of him asleep under hypnosis that allows him to combine the periods of antiquity more than six thousand years ago. C. allowing him to build a person from low to high visibility in a consequence where totalitarianism was exclusive to a millenary East, in pursuit of a nascent South America suffering from the birth of itself from the geological split 120 or 150 million years ago that did not they would be enough to bring about the consequences of Spílaiaus when he allows, hears and tells me to give him the world that only he had been chosen to live in.

Vernarth welcomes and obeys his command to divide N times as a normal body could run and fall into this current maelstrom that would take him throughout Greece, Judea, Central, and Eastern Europe, from a place of origin called Kanthillana which resists the intermodal phenomenon of quantum that would overwhelm him to the point where his entire genealogy would follow him wherever he went if need be. All this was mending and composing itself in those alternating impurities of some paradigm, reinstating the constitution of the random present of Greek mythology already alive in the blood that unites the same rivers that are born of a narrator, always disposed of in the eminence of inspiration either in Olympos, Profitis, Ophel, Kantillana or any tomb that constitutes the format of electric actual mobility where it distills rapidly at the speed of emotions that will always be directed by gods who feel it before they are received by a distant reader. The elaboration design of the works is spaced from the hand of the argument that sometimes tries to hold on to the runaway reins since they are commanded by real emotions provided by unknown forces, generating a great collision and incomprehensible data header for an eye or ear human that needs the neat pause to attend to the discretions that are intertwined and accelerate with solidified sources of extemporaneous mythology diverging from prosopography components of Literature Heritages Sites.

The chattering of the monuments will be of great superiority as an addition to the compiled history never told or narrated where it intertwines with two dissimilar, dissonant geographical zones, distant in such a way that they themselves react to a thunder of life, which makes up those zones that are individualized and inanimate as sources of multidimensional fervor, causing high-sounding narrative imbalances that at times were made as a great source of the power of what makes sense or what could mean at times that could continue progressing in the potential wealth of beings that were never geographically rooted in a system of use or group accent that could be immersed in the biography of that which has never been told, since there is no record. The information that is unknown could not be collected as well as a concept that survives the networks of a shipwreck of the passing of the centuries that run between even and odd centuries of today in the antiquity of the Middle Ages, however, all this traceability leaves us in micro spaces that are not perceptible, nor in the incorporation of chronicles that can be driven by the linear ordering method. Vernarth is in itself a precipitous advance, a quantum of dissimilar interests of civilizations that survive and will survive from where they were forged, perhaps integrating the second face of a life that manages to detach itself from the vital circle, to experiment with its canceled free will and redirect its life. revived canons of a new nuance that concelebrates within the face of an unknown character of prosopography; to the same one who imposes the laws of everything he should for each own individual having the opportune world of him that receives him lavishly.

After the seventh century, the phenomena of the Mediterranean between what simply promotes a turn of the page leaves the hemisphere of each empire more distant from the social phenomena that distinguish us once the stumble of generations cannot count what is not could mend in the subsequent generation. This is why Vernarth's hybrid containing allows you to travel between immemorial times, allowing you to store them and tolerate periods that do not fit the scale of all their wills deployed towards an administration that manages to revitalize their monuments and ally them with other geographical areas that could not strictly speak of the same contemporary, having taken more advantage of them. Such efforts would make a great providence and closeness of all the garments that represented suitable characters who are still looking in their wasteland for the true chronological process that should fit their conditions. Vernarth is a great enlargement of prosopography that he has or ambitions excessively, and that may heavenly tempt him to build vaults that can fit the figure of himself equivalent, of the libertine whims that could stipulate the crosses of the early and late periods, eager and differentiated for everything that could fit in a bunch of flowers like a bunch of verses that would be destined for the available that waits to be presented from the incorrupt mound of Olympus with the chain of being repeatedly presented in the Kanthillana before the god Spilaiaus.

The tool will allow the reconstruction of each elapsed period of time, which is exactly what the submithology intends, to return to live with the villagers who tend to trace their lines of traditions, customs, and much-needed etymology to revive the peripheral description where some manage to to be protagonists, leaving aside those who should be participants in silent actors that intends to expand the euphemism that is only revived in the courts of the emperor that is not even established in an ironclad draconian family monograph, as could be seen with the vast majority of the descendants of the Merovingians. The portrait tends to allocate budgets from the treasury of who should be the budget of the vast majority of true Labrador Hoplites as true ascendants of the great hidden treasure that will provide the eloquent looks of Medousa. This is how much of the vindication of cinnabar must have been established as a burial of many individuals from the Middle Ages in the vast majority of Europe to daub the bodies in sulfur or Cinnabar to try to keep them in the underworld with their entire body in linen shrouds or substitutes, and how to preserve or how to return to an organic chemical environment from which was the union of two beings when they engendered a being by the chemical explosion of a body in the autonomous cycle of procreation. Linguistic guidelines will undoubtedly make the entire Middle Ages the creation of a symbol of faith entrenched in unionized social spheres, made up of guilds of families that were never registered in a regime or corporation to supplement the lack of the Datum that in this work is It aims to decorate, uniting all classes, latitudes, and sectors that could well deserve complete the spaces that should have been executed by intercontinental clans, offering them a history that is part of their emblematic ancestor.

I would dare to name the Hoplithography, as the archaeological social fabric forging the question that establishes the Hoplites as sowing cultures of the significance of their prosopon of military body, contemplating further than all the nations of a way of life that probably would have been perhaps univocal to a pious being of the science that surrounds him, with the loneliness of a being that does not admit that he is overcome by science that submits to autonomous man such as Diogenes of Sinope or Archimedes who join an axial connection in the evidence of the senses, but in the Solstice of Sinope 412 a. C. specifically in the efforts of Vernarth to make them participate that the free man belonged to a Don who was more removed from his gaps of mistakes or successes since the free man was going to be imprisoned in the urn that joins him to his body and not to the illusion of your senses. The gates of truth or otherwise are just a few steps away from this Vernarth Tragedy that asks for a little hint of space-time movement. All the paradoxes that linear time will persevere in great calculation errors that could be an Aporia as speculative logic, followed by the fiction that exceeds reality where the paradoxes will be unresolved inconsistencies, essentially with what untimely arises from an indication of life in a common being that is related to quantum mutes as exhibited by the explosive Parapsychology or "Paraps" that are subdivided from the different scenarios of Aporías or enclaves of logic that are conjugated with the non-existent reality, given to the mechanics of Submythology of heroes, gods, and others coming back to life in a passage of time that is not explained in some expired history book that had more to tell than what its own ruins hid from the truth that could be told. This is a wealth of objectives that this Thesis proposes, to discover in the immensity of the unknown what was and could never be told, and that the past genetically survives in varieties of classes of organic species that continue to be assembled by worlds that tend to clear and rethink what any storyteller, philosopher, historian or archaeologist can interpret.

Physics is made of a servile space or instrument of the paradox, in such a way that the events point to reopen doors that are of the unknown History that could be part of a god that did not exist until the shelves documented him as part of a living culture associating it with its patterns of daily life, politics and the chores of common human life. It would be like the Arrow of Flight with Achilles, perhaps leaving a great inheritance to Alexander the Great in the dichotomy of how it would be Zefian by instituting the balance of the world with the geodesy of the world of Vernarth, not alluding in between the time that dictates it for its governance, but rather the cosmic heart that allows guessing where the thoughts will be directed more than the elliptical of ascent, and descent how far the arrow will arrive because even so whoever finds it will be of the mental times that elapse in different fractions as it is Parapsychology not moving, but more than the time that only moves where it is not or rests to give primary indications of intelligence in which thought must establish the concrete fact that everything takes place in its elliptical, but not in dissociated thought. Perhaps the singularity of this polished rule could show that this Paradox of Zeno that everything that exists could outline that the line that divides Achilles from Alexander the Great is the elliptical of thought because in the rhetoric of parapsychology there are no contradictions if it is that in the Dimension of Hellenic History find in it a distant today that communicates with this faction of the dimensional medium. The infinitesimal calculations of the Duoverse aim to link or reconcile what is being advanced in parallel in the mechanics of neuroscience, without the need to have practical scientific vestiges to determine what inhabits the intersection of a circle of quantum with respect to another that it occupies, a classic example of Vernarth when carrying out the flashing Kenósis of his Kli or Vessel that reunites his independent non-parallel lifelines, but that of belonging to a Hellenic trunk with the mathematics that exceeds infinitesimal numbers moving all the lamps of the Universe when both demi-gods walked through the relevant infinity.

Vernarth is a paradox that begins with the analysis of his initial "V" of Lacedaemon with the intention of traveling in supposed time, more remotely than a word can be subordinated to what could reconstruct an infinite regress, which is what will happen with the Apokálypsis in question where he is the threshold section of analysis of the genesis of this work in the Kanthillana, then with the reissue of the Medico in Piacenza by recognizing the constitution of the area that is more than what any specialist can understand; that is, much further from any speculative stealth before Vernarth or after that other prototypes could arise that are indirectly related to the concretion or invisibility of Non-Visible characters, but with the arrival of the submithology genre, its structure will generate conciliatory physical fields of what that he could never refer to or know if a beginning began when the end of the prototype of an invisible being was just being gestated. Perhaps the genesis of the world is a great paradox that was looking for the beginning of the end that manages to meet with a definitive beginning allied to that of an indivisible that indefinitely and infinitely creates micro spaces where time has no place, only physics links that overlap quantumly and represent the truth of purpose.
The argument goes beyond the linear narration that tends to describe who was or was, supplanting it in that of who will be and will be whenever the bonds of a timeless continuous reality remain in all assumptions. Here it is clear the axiom of the infinity of divisibility that is predisposed by an objective to achieve an unforeseen event that is forceful as much as it is likely to plan, from the Duoverse and its composition of everything including all the magnitudes and tendencies to his feet what will add up and will be charged with what has not been built or discovered making this hypothesis of the conceptual that displaces the historical because the conceptual occurred and occurred in outdated times not altering its objective since parapsychology in its infinity of regression will annex him in every Greek, Hebrew and Western dimension and latitude in an ancient world that will always be composed of addends that incorporate it into the Vernarthian World that in turn dares to challenge that the importance of the world of emotions are not part of the study of this Thesis of Literary Heritages Sites, as an infinite potential to achieve when the Apokalypsis is definitely triggered, prior to the ascension of the Vernarth when it leaves the Megaron and its living vibrating magnetic body. The regimes are not egalitarian with the fall of the determined slave democracy of 404 a. C. It could perfectly have been ruled, making the political destinies of an entire nation that is subjugated to attract and implement political and economic experience unclear, that those who would never be sustained by a regime determined by the inclusion of quantum paradoxes would be migrated more than any political-administrative order, which never led to the development of a new dawn of science of the infinite regressions of Parapsychology that unites everything multidimensionally.

The best choice is the equivalent of Prosopography, which results from an anomaly to the rule where Vernarth's Mythology regulates the organization of prosopography, claiming to demonstrate that there are gods who intercommunicate like Spilaiaus with Zeus, claiming to establish that what is going to happen is what that he wanted for his regency the prolongation of one mythology towards another, but without it being written but "Live" this is a postulate that Submythology proposes, substituting all the method rather experimenting for the superimposition of everything to the lesson of everything that is interconnected, although maintaining the univocal root that represents all the structural, cultural, historical and sociological components that intervene at times as an entity belonging to a reality of legends that border on the reality that must be preserved vividly. The compilation lists of Greek mythology is the product of enormous processes of years that have been developed in their territorial regions, a cultural union since Christianity displaced paganism from the year 391 AD. C. tormenting virgins and nascent creeds from a multi-paganism step that was based on the diversity of their daily lives to a universal expression that surpassed all excessive freedom or nullified free will that contended with the delicate slave democracy or dissuasive militarism based on the Oracles, who never had a real interpretation of what originated from a real god or nature that governed itself, rather than a god that questioned others that only individualized their own dramas to represent them to a god that pro-tradition that he freed them or condemned them to live at the expense of a Dramatis Personae. Here is the prosopography that with the well-formulated passage and sense of defining that the Ardors of the Drama make sense of being systematized from the gods of Olympus, but also in social stratifications in part to the worldview of their own ancestors to be the most faithful interpretive of the wealth that makes up the source that structures those of us who are not destined to be deities, but if we could exist before them with a recognized pattern in average reports that could be placed when Vernarth leaves the confused division of a body that will remain in the Iridescent Hydor of the Mashiaj or when the prophetic appearance of his Mother Luccica is sustained by such a portion of a physical world, rather totally petrified before the hecatomb or end of the world, generating in her a stony and inanimate being, but if sufficiently existing to define her new role in the universe "Ab Initio" of a general objective of uniting eternity of the competo of existing of unifying the geomorphological latitudes of mythological existence with other unknown vertical cultures (Submitology) and hypothetically pool the experience of the elements of the universe as a whole to empower roles among themselves. Then unify everything that can be narrated as an imminent truth to lavish it on those who could not exist at the same time, but rather describe it with the quantum channel, as it is here that Vernarth remains conjugated to his literature, history, theory, and quality of his speech. focused on a fully portrayed and defined system of Patio V of Hellenika as the Fifth Dimension as comparisons that are rationalized with space-time, geographic-chronology submerged in a theme of Political History as the axis of states that exert social change for numerous characters who recently there they come to life, as is the case of the new stage of Zacchaeus and the Sycomoro or Saint John the Evangelist in the Hegira to Judah provided by Vernarth to rediscover its roots, and reduce what could have been but the journey of Judah if there had not been ended in a conclusive in Jaffa where the metaphor that returned to Limassol would exceed the metaphor of Rhodes as an intermediate point that perhaps nu It could never have ended.
The interrelation of conceptions is due to a Primogen of the sixth dimension that was established as it was in Izzana with the Unicorns or Uilef that carried them to Genoa, or of the Giant Camels that were transfigured in Jaffa when the Ghosts of Shiraz had an impartial interference in the successful sea off the eastern sea. The relationships of the primogeniture allow a timeless mobilization led by Eurydice as a living figurehead that structures her Orphic proselytism, further than a conventual desire to compensate for all the unfocused in the elite and the outcome in the Profitis Ilias as the maximum height of reception. Trinitarian back with the ecstasy of Saint John the Apostle as the mobile center of the Hexagonal Primogeniture, the similar inspiration of living images of Ein Karem and its shepherds.

The Birthright is a family that composes them in their faith that guides them by themselves, whose goals are primarily directed by their sacramentals from the first to the seventh Giga Camel. In the imaginary and cultural reference that is delimited by its monotheistic ideology, acquired from a Hebraic-Hellenic scientific connection, whose postulates will survive the unusual phenomenon from generation to generation, but rather infinite inter regressions that could sometimes revolutionize the entire creation from scratch interpolated by an alpha, being the same for its intended end. Behold, the crossover element of this theme alludes to objects, events, or phenomena such as the reopening of the Kassotides as a central element from which the hypothetical support of all faith could be shipwrecked, if it is put at risk of re-raising culture to save the fate of the world at risk from climate change. If two sages met in limits without knowing Schopenhauer or Nietzsche with the relevance of ideologies that would offer more factors, expanding both systems or theories as alternative areas to think free from humanism or intellectualism that somehow reveals itself at the end of the times reconciling all time of action subsequent to his potential periods, more than his written legacies because his potential lies in his social prototype more than his work, given that his virtuosity is deeply rooted as an atheist believer, more separated from any intellectual root of wisdom What if it denotes the non-existence of a Pagan or Divine Enlightened God, what would provoke the indirect means that persists of calling a society whether or not it was a believer? In the specific case of Vernarth, his entire biography revolves around a Supreme Being who appears before him as a god of mythology, and who then takes him to the portal of Saint John the Evangelist as a being of compassion who alternates with him to embrace him and your arms. Everything there is that allows to treasure, store, or interrelate in different social strata uses the divine work that a character that sheds light that can even give more brightness than any star that can be demonstrated in a written work as an essential starting base reliability of an author who is inspired, and is not inspired.

Submithology also replaces prosopography, to say the least, that unites in general circles that cease to be physical until the ethereal limen that converts them into micro translation spaces such as quantum, in the same reciprocity of a point A-B and B-A and vice versa as it stipulates the connectivity of what exalts thought, and its inheritance when rising to the point that would be the “Intellectual Heaven”. Vernarth in the present time of any researcher could attribute that it will depart from the Iridescent Hydor photo-duct by seven channelings of the spectrum of the refracting luminaire but of the concomitance of the observable Vernarth, or rather of what little remains to be able to observe of man after leaving It is sighted by the masks that caustically protect or envelop it as a waste of what is not attributable to a Politai, having conditions of dense interests of a destiny that will never be recognized or belong to it. It is because of this reluctance that the proposal of free will offers greater perspectives in a series of misunderstandings such as Empowering two famous atheists like Nietzsche or Schopenhauer at the service of believers who would never object to the full range of possibilities that they could implement from scratch, to convert a Christian who is like himself to a convert who will purge and reverse all his permissible externally in the farthest destinies that allow him to ascend in freedom of annulled will, not only on the earth with one more differentiated, but as a tender being who saves the world so that the world does not forget him. This thesis offers the man who has been bastardized or discriminated from a social marginal depriving him of alternating with nobles or well-to-do who circulate under the same roof of half humanity that allows the common man to dispense with all humanist beliefs, opposition, syncretic, etc. .) To detach from all vanity that is limited in the abandonment of any of it progressing with all creation that if it is when every living organism ceases to be on Patmos.

The Patmos reef may contain inventories, archives, demographic indexes, religious spheres, congregations as repertoires of those that will form when an external being arrives to build a society that imposes its character of contribution to society, and tends to adapt to particular aspects that the that they will be until today on the island itself, in itself demanding the leadership of an elite of the Passional of Iahvé through Saint John the Apostle in conception of qualifying him with the great stratified of the species that compromises in the optics of converting his followers, as an essay of an illusion made real ad honorum of a residual fragmentary that does little to unify the eras in which the rich and poor will be relatives not because of their genealogy, but because what the poor lead of the other to save him from an end that has another handle of his heraldry and portraits of his game that is deactivated in the collective imagination of all his progeny highlighted as a representative of mutations of numer dark ales, where nothing will be recorded only in this untrammeled probability of granting a life that resides in everything that cannot be seen or named, that transgresses all sources of prosopography as something deductive in this case Deus Ex Machina; as will be embodied in the final tableau of Vernarth's Trilogy III "Like the god who will descend from the machine or in this case from Hydor to Vernarth to take him to Alikantus with his mended golden hooves"
To conclude where it remains to argue that it can attract us from the Intuition of being more than a human who can actually live more than what can be budgeted, without prejudice to common sense that is quiet and distant from the epilogue of this work when whoever looks at it and hold on to a legacy of Heritage Site Literature, and manage to embrace it so that its pulse can be felt in each character it is in, and in each episode of a post-classical story. The derivations of a critical analysis of psychological Vernarth is greatly affected by an independent reaction of a real regime to which his fellow Hoplite Soldier leads him to the event of Arbela in the great battle of Gaugamela, integrating himself into the analysis of a reality that did not belong to him due to because he came from another remote erudition, and was only recognized for defending common acts that reflect the awakening of a new seed of value and temperament of a whole baggage of anthroponymy that could fit in all the spontaneous civilizations that manage to transgress the barriers of time and normal space, here is Vernarth who manages to fit in the names that substantiate in others that revalues them, and could appear as a perfect leadership name to access a Helot, Hoplite or Politai housing space in the same way as It could be transmitted from a leader who, together with Wonthelimar, was able to cross the Pyrenees or the heights of Ida or Kanthillana. as a high descendant of the Arakynthos Mountains of Messolonghi destined for the Koumeterium of the same name where the genealogical table of Vernarth is carved together with his brother Etrestles, under the invisible courtesies of a man when he is condemned being born from here from the numb invincible spirit of the Heroes of the Independence of Greece 1830. Finally, in this penultimate episode that Vernarth qualifies the sense of not being affected by an oppressive cause as being influenced by supremacies of ideas, creeds, philosophies, or governmental order, rather by a divine general scientific exordium that is from where he manages to interpret when the Mashiach or Messiah, will take his hands to carry him to meet the Hydor and dwell in that place with Him. The archivist will have the possibility to investigate and study in situ the paranormal events referred to as mega parapsychology, This way he will allow his vast merciful heart to be a strategist to carry in his inventory everything s the petitions of the living who remain in the land of Greece to take them to those who remain in the land via Patmos. Vernarth from the 6th century AD. in search of his genealogy he can create a meritorious dignity of giving funeral rites to his ancestors, the long-standing family coat of arms became returnable to the Reign of Horcondising: Spílaiaus and Aiónius with the major gods who waited for him to reside in the entire fringe of the invisible beings that in eternity will take chronological charge of a revolving time that will recirculate from all that is not dimensioned like a spiral dragging all the empires that request the renovation of their ruins, and of their beings that cry out for the misuse of this world and new coverage of a new world of replacement; as Vernarth's Strategoi legacy through all the reigns between Justin I and Justinian I of the sixth century, since previously a large part of Vernarth's family was exiled to the South of Spain by the then Roman Empire from the north of Venice to the Mediterranean, from here he transfers all the families of his lineage with his Coat of Arms of Lacedaemon to protect them over the course of more than 700 years. In this way, a large part of those who had to protect the family raft that was protected by Vernarth in the revolt of Constantinople after signing peace with Persia. The Apoinandros preserved all his lineage along the paths of an enthronement ritual that protected the distinctions but also the families of the world in the Mediterranean regions, curiously where a large part of this Trilogy navigates the Triacontero Eurídice together with Vernarth as Strategoi of expeditionary forces in glorious parapsychologies of the Middle Ages moving periodically from south to north of all of Hispania, even alternating with Nordic and German elites, such as Greek-Hebrew nominating Vernarth as a dignitary that will be preserved in the coat of arms Strategikon that managed to be collaborated with the Emperors the century VI, attributing that some of the most robust could be part of the elites of the Roman legions as exclusive Praetorians. In this way, all the family trunk and his insignia were migrated from the north of Venice, then to Lombardy to be redirected to Spain later in the coming centuries to South America. The Strategikon has presented as relevant to the present elaboration thanks to its representativeness regarding the egregious existence, compilation, and hoarding of relevant technical information for the performance of the distinguished tasks of ex-military, being able to be verified with absolute certainty within its family traits with its existence, and continued use as a source of the great Taktika of Alexander the Great and Saint John the Apostle as Magister Militum.
Epilogues Trilogy III ( Excerpt)
God's Oracle Oct 2019
Treachery & Fatherhood Of Falsehood the Serpent has been constructing the Perfect Mastermind plan for Millenniums. The Government System keeps us blind to the truth the Mass Media hide in their Masks Of Secrecy & Corrupted Mechanisms Of Mind Control & Mind Manipulation. Injecting you with mindless propaganda and outdated technological advances the Key Players a group of people who rule the World's Monetary & Credit System. A advanced form of modern slavery promising you a tangible piece of paper we call "Money" in exchange for your valued Life-Time. Though never telling you that their true hidden intentions by creating elaborate Companies, Corporations, Incorporations, Private Business Practices that comply with their hidden intentions and covering their perhaps shady Double Infrastructures. The bigger the secret the higher security its guarded with. Within their limitless power and the wider their spectrum creating a Market for a imposed...furthermore; exposed "Gray Area" where this information is totally restricted to only a selected few Man and Woman that run this "Corrupted System Of Law & Order." Symbolism, Cryptology, Hiroaglyphics, Power & Seduction, the Dream Life that only the Ultra Rich Ultra Powerful People enjoy... Making us strive higher try harder work faster and not even get to enjoy Life itself due to the tumultuous hectic agenda this type of people are being led to live. Sacrificing their Lives into this Griveous Trap a Ticking Time Bomb that is why the Billionaires complain of not ever enjoying life like regular and ordinary people. They are missing something exclusively vital for their vitality a Life leaning on being servicial not a tyrant, arrogant and prideful. Instead of focusing on being selfless they are selfish a Man or Woman with this much influence due to their riches can steal the essential importance of being a deep person with roots imbedded and engraved in their heart to not consider themselves higher and more important than the rest of your fellow man and woman. Unfortunately this people are usually greedy and power hungry and want to control everything they get their hands on. No self control wild extravagant riches and power like this come at a high price...a Life consuming unquenchable spendature of USD never being satisfied with nothing hence they don't lack the material things in Life. Nevertheless, they lack true empathy true compassion true generosity true love to an extent due to the fact they have to uphold a reputation a Life and a image that cannot be corrupted or misconstrued. Therefore, so much pressure from Society and other Powerful People with similar lifestyles (sharing the Billionare Status) can become tiring, challenging, confusing and even dangerous. With a extremely busy life people who own 88.9% of the World's Wealth are manipulating and forecasting the Whole Countries Futures in their Confederate Round Tables attributing their opinions and making extremely large donations of money to keep the Political, Judicial, Educational, Environmental, Scientifical, and Medical Mega-Massive branches that are being steared and directed towards more and more "Chaos and Corruption" that is so subtle is impossible for normal or even highly intellectual people fail to see this World we live in is being prepared for a World War III a war of astronomical proportions; and the ones making it possible are this people am describing here. Fact is however this people are Dynasty's of Families that been constructing this and devicing this finale to show that we are ruled by Forces Of Humanity's greatest nature of tend to follow their inner "Darkness" instead of focusing on changing and trying something new becoming a diciplined instructed in the "Light". A Holy War the experts in Theology & Religions call it. Good versus Evil. With Great Power comes Great Responsibility. Demonic Forces are at work so they say and other similar horrors Intra-dimentional beings and Syphs of Infernal Places are among us back then even till now...The Fallen Cherub Samamiel the "Morning Star" before becoming jelaous prideful and arrogant towards his Creator was one of God's Favorite Angels. After being casted out of Heaven in the Second Angelic War...he gained his new name Lucifer. He was casted to the Earth, however he was able to persuade 1/3 of the Heavenly Host to fall along with him. Furthermore, when this happened he lived and formulated plans to enact revenge on God his Son and the Holy Spirit. Since this Fallen Armada of Heavenly Host was casted out of Heaven the perfect equilibrium or balance of power was divided into 3 factions. 33.3% Strongest Angels 33.3% Mediocre to Weak Angels and 33.3% Fallen Angels.

~Angelic Hiearchy~
1.Arch-Angels
2.Cherubs
3.Seraphims
4.Observer-Angels
5­.Guardian-Angels
6.Master-Messenger-Angels
7.Messenger-Angels
~An­gelic Beings~
Dragons
Lions
Eagle-like Creatures
Giant Golems
Celestial Beings
Syphs
Intra-dimentional Beings
~Fallen Angels~
Serpentine Beings
Dragons
Nightmarish Creatures
Incubus
Succubus
Syphs
Intra-dimentional Beings

The Devil (Another common name for Lucifer) the first 4 Millenniums him and his Angels where only allowed to plant device and use human beings in those eras in their Spiritual Form...invisible yet highly cunning, deceptive, persuasive and subtle. This Final Millennium he is here in the Flesh him and all his Angelic Host too...trying to still do what they always have done...Steal, **** and Destroy what God has been able to put up with Humanity's insolence  disobedience and corruption for granting this inherited curse thru "Adam & Eve" nevertheless, Jesus Christ already came and atoned Mankind's sin and culpability. Allowing us to recieve, communicate, interpret, decypher, learn and use the new intermidiator "Christ" to talk to The Father and all his Angelic Beings freely. The meek & humble people of poor upbringing are rich in spirit but poor in material things little do they know they are highly favored by our Creator and the ones who are rich and lack no material things food or drink are poor in spirit due to their negligence towards God hence they have allowed their hearts to become trapped in a World of Fleshly Indulgence. Test the various messages I have talked about in this Blog...we live in the Final Hours to be at last liberated from this World's Death Grip on our Lives once and for all...Although not all Rich people are bad or poor in spirit a few seldomly selected ones have used their wealth wisely to prosper our neighborhoods, lives, create jobs, impose Go-Green Ecological Advancements, and deep down are they themselves are seen with high favor in God's eyesight too.

Final footnote "Remember we cannot change what's written but we can at least help those who are hopeless, lost in a world full of darkness"

-Franko The Christian Poet-
The Lost World Vs. God
Let me soak in something than higher art, expression of reality that I experience. Effortless and distinction. Eternal on dawning-awakening. Evening kisses under moonlight. Pulling contrast. Attributing lines to poetry, but must experience the romance first. Deriving from dreams. In remote areas of my inner-world.

No mutual admiration, I adore the thought of being loved, for I have so much to give and I’m slowly tiring with engaging with poetry.

Their eyes glittered heaven and waved into my soul, lingering inside now. In mystery, touching my flesh, soothing poetry. Exchanging secrets. We conversed for days, afterwards, we sat in silence and I felt content for the first time. I had always read about love, poetry, novels, in songs I heard. As for finding one’s soulmate, I had always thought they exiled to the cosmo’s and never to exist here in the present with me now. Evoking meaning into me. Galactic beauty. Though it’s wildly-overwhelming, taming my entire essence. We kiss. Touch. Stare. Smile. For I have travelled far enough to meet the one shaped only for me.

Harmony.

Blending in paradise, paradox and reality. Be in the sweep of movement with me. It’s a strange land. Normal to my Muse. pounding scarlet. Brewing violet. Velvet blending. Long time melodramatic epic. As for my peers, they’re blowing in the wind on death row.

For me, I rose.

Installing myself into history. Drifting away from this world. Combing body, soul, heart and formed my essence. Belonging to a kingdom, unable to be articulated in any form of art or poetry. It’s sinful to avoid it. A culture of Muses, coming together, from something I just wanted pure love, in poetic romance, epic symphonies. Opera written than sung for me. As I approach my own destiny that I crafted for myself, there is destiny, but vain, despair, angst and pain, is from not from acting on life and falling into the mundane. With climate of the adoring music. As lyrics leaving me spellbound. And without a sound, I slide down, the tree of life as Goat heads pray. The trinity men singing in chanting words. Spanned across period of humanity.

Burning into consciousness.

In rewards, mythological fame, I’m in a world of my own. A single drop, into limitless paths, expressed wit my own hands touching immortality, as the population watches as a defenceless witness. Tender and full of emotion. I can birth any future for anyone

There’s nothing more eloquent than that glance at your lover, that somehow forces magic inside to boil and burst inside and you’ve got nothing else to do, than to violently act in ******* session, disregarding the world outside. All in unpredictable fashions, forming historic times, in it’s sliding wild and roaring romantic themes, that’s even new to our Muses and as humanity looks back on the lovers, it sparks the second renaissance. Kissing and touching in singular places, urging to move on, because it’s all too painful not to kiss and touch everywhere at the same time, moans turn into love songs, through the physical, the souls transcend through becoming one and finally, the meaning of life becomes all too visible, as for the fact of being all too human, drips and drops away in melting fashion and finally, like the bluebirds being let free from its cages for the first time. Lovers become free to live as they should. Angels in Gods eyes and illuminating everything they touch with ease. There is no boundaries between the two, no secrets, nothing to hold them back, all personal fears and insecurities become forgotten, like their personal history as their private-public flaws are mastered and moved on from. And in a gasp of romance aroma breathing in air, and perhaps with a little sting of envy, for anyone blessed enough to witness two that had found each other, despite life’s and this society's flaws, sin, expectations, they’ve got nothing to do, but to continue to gasp in awe, bringing any heart to tears. Though how ******, how much of cruel trick, with joking laughter, life would be, that there would be utterly no hope of actually finding one’s soulmate and experience the true and pure love of a soulmate and that dream only belonged in poetry or to some parallel world. And as much as I expect to be held responsible for thy sins committed in this life, for I fully expect to uphold my creator to my soulmate, whether that I get to experience them or not. Now I fully understand, that whether I’m living in paradise or not, it presents self-awareness and knowledge, bliss truly mixes in with the ignorant. As for now, all I know, that each love poem is only a trail left behind those who had experience it.

As for my own redemption, to all that I took apart by ignoring, I could only use this present to parent my future, not to repeat the mistake I’ve suffered in the past, do not pity me because I have. For I had apart in it. Strip back beliefs, perhaps there is no inherent good or evil and it’s all left to our hands to contribute either. It’s tiring engaging with this world, noticing my own duality. By each sin committed, by our acts of kindness, there’s a twinkling ripple in our actions and it’s the same in our silence that lacks any actions. The sun rises in the east and settles in the west. The sun raises itself daily.

For let us pray, we’ve all sinned and as for my kindness, let me learn to be self-satisfied in being the only person of knowing such action has taken place.

It can be a small world, constant crossing over moments, little for elevation, words on the wanting it all to end. As to the amount of gods in spectrum-history to humanity, to the same count can be called for the apocalypse, for it’s nothing new in the human psyche, the yearning for it is as strong to know the meaning of one and the entire humanities meaning. It won’t stop. Until it happens and when you speak of the Devil, he shall appear.

To develop, to know, to learn, to act on, to practise one’s own character that fate I had mention, to unfold throughout life is nothing short of an addictive-venture that brings such a lonely sickness. As to most laymen, for it’s too hard to grasp and ponder with thinking thoughts, that’s why martyrs had been deemed crazy-mad prior to dying. After that fateful action in death. Their life had personal permission to full live without fear of the outside.

Eat the apple.

Life can be taken in as thawing out.

I wander in darkness seeking light, failing to realize that the light is in the heart of the darkness. Surpassing all culture’s creed and dogma. Rising from the water to jump off the edge, flying through the clouds and drips of dazzling rain. Not accepting the natural status that others had placed upon. The mystics that sing the mysteries sing louder, binding themselves onto me. The glitter to the normal world is everything that vels are. Wisdom has o fears and as a pool of it, self-produced, never to run dry, for it eventually covers the ocean floor and everyone wants to know the code of poet’s immortality, never want to lead a new generation.

The world can end today. But not before I have my coffee.

For I’ll walk a flock of flames.

Conversing philosopher with the one, who holds the heart of a soldier and the brains to teach a whole globe.

— The End —