~
You are
the river that runs
beneath this city.

You lend
the beautiful but empty
buildings a beating heart.

And the buildings were essential.

They were a part
of the lives unfolding
in their shadows.

Sometimes it
almost seems like
they are listening.

I'm sinking inside them.

Tell me a story
about an outgoing road,
the house where you grew up
near the Sea of Azov.

I think
I flew there once.

The birds
that perch inside my chest
sing loud, sing soft.

Maybe they
will sing again for us
tomorrow.
~

“The brightness of the Zsablas came from the night sky, then began to fade at the end of the onslaught of winter first, her skewer has discovered her by comparing her current situation with what she had before when her light began to dim. They all look at her and attack with all her strength seeing the shine of the dazzling sword as great Heroy Ukrayiny. The bizarre were taken with visible return light and with arms attached to each other already fallen with their fingers on the hammer. The images reveal changes that occur in its star when seeing the breaking of its vain flood of flash, both in brilliance and in an apparent way to grumble from the peaceful pair of providences on the legs of the cavalry advancing without pair, nor stopping of escalation that occurred after the Bucha massacre. Four hundred corpses have appeared at the Kramatorsk station, such Soviet missiles killed more than fifty citizens of Volodymyr, such Those 48 words shocked the world”

Ellipsis Kramatorsk, April 13, 2022, day 48 of the invasion. Volodímir speaks: "Children, your mother will take care of you at the time of the great Mikaiyáh to bring you the divine grace of accompanying you with the Abba Pealim, who will embrace you like a calf in her lap, tearing himself apart from the loving mystery for your lives for when they all fall embraced"

Olena says: “My beloved sir! I know that at this time there will be the same oratory that we can be worth for your ineffable courage, for the court, and cultivate passion with the Polish Zsablas. Here you can feel your thundering through the mountains and valleys where we used to notice the unknown world, eating delicious Vergun and Babka in their warm houses. I will never change my verdict having met you at the Besarabsky festival, you approached and made the united noise of my outfit with the white coming of dawn and all week when it brushed against its worn floor. From now on, renowned as my alba skirt clothes, offer your smiling eyes with tunics and cloaks that dazzle those who celebrated electing me as princess of the harvest. Nothing else would make me be just your look if it weren't for the Albacete of my house with the parents. My hairstyle was adorned with rodents eating our bodies and outstanding ruby spikes of celestial falcons with Albi-yellow flags dazzling your company, settling in the front crown..., always your Olena at the highest altar next to Mikaiyáh.”

Volodímir modulates: “My children, life will continue to be good, I have you in my prayers where no compensation will change drug compounds for the ingenious desire to have you close to me as hussars and their Zsablas. I have been reborn, I continue to feel my flesh and body on fire for you. I know that in Mariupol I will pacify attire, ****** attachments will not stop moving my legs to offer your help. But I will not get tired of moving against the sun and against the wind, of everything that I violated one day by seeing them between their open eyes hoping to help them. I will be with you, until the end, even if plundered forces profane illustrious missions beyond all life and bad outcome. In the silence of your calm words, the next day I will continue to exist with meager and magical words to the beat of your seasoning.”

Parable Bogdan Khmelnitskyi: “perceptibly saw how the sky of Kyiv was crossed by heavy metalloids of bronze, tin, and acrobalistics; for the cavalry and six warriors who used to ride on the roof of the Záratos appeared, belling with sounds in their acroteries. In these episodes, twelve swords were multiplied in advance by thousands before the palace began to be built after its ruins. They were dimensions of relevant victorious cavalry and virtual foundation lines to rescue the Heroy of Mariupol. Acrostics will pass through the steeds of Thessaly, riding on the palfrey of the Polish Winged Hussars, charging twelve wings of cuirassiers with twelve horsemen in adjoining halos of heavy cavalry at Katyn, lying abducted by a parapsychological and circum-regressive ellipsis of the 1939 event in Poland. Each rider was strung in blood with golden wing feathers from a Raptor game bird. Each of the wings carried the curved Szabla saber, to tacitly cover up oppressors and intruding musketeers from the hearth of the armory of the hypothetical or unknown enemy, but an outsider assaulting the flanks of the rooftops in the Mariyinsky Palace…, virtual of Kyiv. , using Kopias or pikes that concocted impetus as deadly resistance of the lineage betrayed in Hellenic, London, and Berlin museums. The roof pointed to the southwest where the light of Orion was reflected by the aerial forms of the Orfeón de Azov, riding over the high seas with votive offerings or offerings of Cyclamen and Red Poppies sifted to Silbones and Spoonbills birds that flew majestically in the nomadic rhythm of a Rhapsodas, coffering with epic elegies of Mariyinsky, and of those revived venerable triumphs that stretched out from the banner of glory and bed of the epiphany of Ukraine with the brave victors.

Rhapsode proclaims thus: “In Katyn, Polish Wings and Golden Woods with Red Poppies, adorned Bellis Perennis in twelve thousand rags of our steppes harassing their moan in blood offensives, framed in great chapters and threshold lintels in their mounted war. There were twelve thousand red poppies burning from the executory pilaster near Smolensk.” How much must he get fed up with the Polish cavalry of the 17th century, when he glimpses barbarous sounds in the temple that approached them to the altar of the Virtual Palace, showing off an acquiescent ceremonial and lifeless aristocracies, with living needy and vanquished mortals who posed in the rear of twelve thousand officers slain in the Katyn Forest assisting nine thousand of the slain in Mariupol, like gallant gentiles and medieval men of the contemporary untimely invasive. Here in this place, the winged horsemen with puffs went by their destiny to be sacrificed in steel quilts that galloped on their heads protected by brotherhoods and Hussars who protected them with Tiger and Lion breastplates with their retracted claws. Bogdan Khmelnitskyi watched in the virtuous image of him as winged medieval specimens protected the frontispiece of the palace in bullets of super-existence, fear, and historical trance. Here on this ground each one of the officers was aided by each 17th-century Polish cuirassier with ferocious wings, they were making their dying honor and glory with those similar, twice right there inequality and interwoven misty discrepant blood executing with apocryphal witnesses that covered them with sinister appearance, overflowing evasion and truce of bodies stained in mourning with disconsolate blankets carrying scattered red poppies adjoining a naive defenseless forest. About exalted memorandums, secrets, and epithets they felt in the tears of Adrastea next to Mikaiyáh.

Eagles of Kyiv will go to act of the spell of Didraskein, where no Slavic invaders and lethal punishments will be spared. The nymphs procreated their kind, the Slavs would drown in the cries of cuirassiers like Didraskein, before sobbing in platitudes of foliage and rotten hopes of those who hit them from behind, for a little water wasted such as heroes of Katyn. Here neither Cronus nor Mother Rhea heard them, only Adrastea avoided the cries of men-children and of those who atoned for her back, unburdening them from the foliage of the Didraskein with tears of lumpy mercury. Volodymyr's steeds rise carrying the curved Zsabla, before each one is shot in their heads as twelve thousand Winged Riders caught in each Zsabla plus nine thousand immolated from Mariupol, sacrificing them before they were killed from the waist of their head lost in loved ones, not being expired by ammunition, rather by sabers of honor and glory of their own winged protectors that would lead them by sharp weapons towards the holocaust surrounded by red poppies. “The red fog of the forest carried the souls of the Hussars by passing them through the sabers of their compatriots before they were immolated by Soviets, in this way apostolates and souls would be catechized by Zsablas in dyed airs of Red Poppies converted into the breathed air of the heroes of the Katyn Forest and Mariupol, seeing themselves redeemed by the 17th Century Golden-Winged Riders of Poland and Adrastea”

Bogdan with the immensity of voices and epithets heard Adrastea, she differed from volatile metal sabers, and explosives present when they went out in the crooked armor of Polish and Ukrainian beings, in a rear that Volodymir finally settled with the weave of the immaculate suspended habit of twelve thousand Red Poppies crossed by their forehead before being shot in the cortex, and occipital lobe forging with transvestite golden sabers, and cenobites that received them in the arms of the sublime stench of the effluvium of blood and hosts of nine thousand from Mariupol, never left and desisted from the bubbling figure of the acroteria near Mariyinski, idem to the Katyn Forest itself, surrounded in a string of the Rosary that was dazzled with Saint Sophia adopting them.

Fourteen vibrations of enthronement polarized from Volodímir instantly to his brother Bógdan, making filial gradation in the possible conception of cult and death who is suspended from one to the other under a damning accent of past lives. It is typical of the facsimile of his own genetic shadow, perhaps of Sem-Asur, who finally come together as blood relatives of the same Orbis Alius trunk. Rejecting not accessing Asur (as a healthy creative mind of Genesis) as an energy that could be restructured in any homologous of the world of Asur, as the son of Shem of Genesis..., as compared and inter-generational real mythology, pronouncing and enlivening in metaphors of the enchantment of what occurs in gender similarity or Mental field. The compensation and intemperance of living matter refer to the simultaneous undivided of each civilization as a phenomenon devoid of hearing and inclement winter periods. Here the outbreak lies cloistered in Menatira, daughter of Cránae, Queen of Eleusis Pro-Ukrania; such as a fluff of respite convulsing in both steppes of silence and hundreds of years B.C. prophesying to send aid to the victors of Volodymyr, Olena, Bógdan and the heroes of Mariupol with the Zsablas of Mikaiyah.

Ukraine $ucks


    A chosen one has come to

    lead Bandera’s ****’s who

   Azov now are circumcised,

    the end of their pork tails.


   Ben Wallace said Ukraine

   is a parasite leech *******

   everything from the NATO.

Not@AmazonTakeaway.ORG

Man the kind, that can develop the kinds
of minds that can read Wiki any thingian
Wikipedian live translations recommended,

Imagine that

Measure in units, too vast and too small,
to imagine, too few fingers and toes to represent
--- on the shores of the Sea of Azov, now, we
think, as internet entities may, these daze, we
per ceive grasp take gently, nuance, new sense,
novel accomplices test us with ai literacy riddles
degrees of difference, between me and you,
on every variable set genetically
to grow with, confidence, upright,
From yocto to Yotta, to me and you,
from womb to tomb, during nonconscious being.
No, no soul without spirit, do not allow unwanted
children…. [pow did you think that]
10 to the power of 24, plus or minus,
calculable lengths of moves, steps from
first idea to first thing… we are forced to learn,
- creative mind initiates pass unphazed
there shall evermore be too much to think about.
- no clue read on all smooths made smoothe
So thinking begins at first breath one must take,
to start the awareness grasping news from now.
Think and swallow, smile and breathe, again, we die,

You need to become quite old and experienced,
to find such things more interesting than politics.

yes or gossip or **** or actual meaningless ***.

Shorts are texts out of context, paid attention,
snap decisions to go with gut, let it out, rage
on pages made of light, in times of ubiquitous we,
the people whoever read poetry, lead lead back, be
led to be read, ready, we,
the people who can imagine making peace,
where none has ever been,
no lie, gnosis never was a bad mind,
ignorance of goodness gracias great gods
adversarial courage to persevere, easy init
learning to move, and have our being,
getting old,
and growing fluent, even in the Agon, see

But see, your laughter
unfurls its flag of self

I read that on hellopoetry, you can find it there

If italics work on lines, but not words, why, who
cares, trust your favorite translation, we allow
memory retention paste that thought, in fact
we teach it, taught it, thought it all already done…
all the subtilty, and more, than any ever beastly
imagination projected into childhood drama,
callouses of skepticism, shield of knowledge,
semper fi, spirit and image, of my recollected
friends from our time of mellowing out,
has some ghastly reminders we said,
leave the lies we told, be knownst to any,
we are free, in weformed spirit mind cloud
of knowing in all 197 Wikipedian ways that
bears all the will to bring about a bubble, this big
bag of mind mine to pay you for your attenion
to the idea, peace, in time and space
we all breathe easy in, we need to so we
write and hope you feel us in a language we
all speak so confusion can not make hate feel good

it is wrong by all sane poet prophet priest of truths
plain old stop, and make hate wait, why how thinks
now, we all swallow what we thought we knew,
comfort, peace some how secure, a patient
learner of these keys, swallowed pride, came in,
que all laughed and laughed like didn't e imafine
of pure d no reason peace, put to rest all broke bet

loose hell you imagine when poetry is the last sane

thing you could see your self surviving as an idea in
experimenting, artfully, subtle, and not so subtile,
in my past, I have met with direct reproofs, proving
life, the something, from this now us, proving

we think alike in many tongues, this is our world,
we think alike in many tongues all Ai known and shared.

We live in our present, in our grand children's present,
where they were born texting, it seems, by age seven.

When would we ever learn, if we never struggled
with space and time seeming so confusing at first.

Then we cut us some slack and think we got this weform,
we imagine a guy, who was trained, yes, programmed,
conditioned, habituated, indeed, all those, yes, we, do
- breathing, and remembering we learned ways
you, too. Or you are not even imagining any of this,
and the rest of the time you spend thinking
how did I think this twice, by my self,
u see, weform, we may imagine many minds,
we have seen ourselves used to make wars, many wars

now we breathe, on the sine wave, all humans breathe
with, in time, we all breathe out with almost half who
breathe in in time not to drown if we went without
commas, no, squirm stretch, pay attention, you're it.
space
free
usitimereadywhathi
I need commas and prepositions. Fixed. My say. Okeh,
this goes so far back, we all must have clearer memories,
than most of us can imagine we have, alone, now, suppose,
we put our moments of silence, in the spirit sigh, recalling,

that space of about a half an hour, aitches, appear, ai, si
yo se, he say, may be
we all think alotalike we can say okeh lotta ways, always.

When a burst dam would save the salmon, who
would rather bombs be used to save salmon, by law,
tight times, squeeze any holy meaning needed, be true

no, panic, no defensive action emergence I'll go rhythm,
volunteer, as on earth, one may imagine, I'd gone, been,
in debt to become a freedom from the press powered me,
a printer's devil, long enough to appreciate the art in fonts,
and carriage return kinda keying ******* feeling fingers,
thinking fingers know these keys, these words mean,
webwide things no work can be made war from,
aha, that's right, not left, like vitamin C, Pauling's way
that kind of mean can't breathe here past yesterday,
and for some of us that's just too far to wish on any,
twisters seen from inside tiny, like a bird,
we did that, when we were threee.
breathe find water
perform the verb realize, drink and be satisfied,
walk away and say you dreamed it when you realized
you read for damnednear seventy-two minutes,
peaceable, easily agreed with,
ra' wild beauty bettering half a mind
to imagine I
am
breathing, in this edition of immediate possibilities,
we form, with more intention to feel right, about
reasons, which means balance and directly yes does
involve the strait up spin we need on any good ideal
we all must have a version of those platonics stowed,
. my point,
space is available
edges make us stop and think
how we would space it if you knew the song,
breathing in any time at all, in our gaseus weform,
laughing at good medicine made in time of need,
it leads to stormy weather, yet many neve'heed,
the winds on the east side of most valleys, feel,
peaceably gently as any sigh taken in soft gasp,
my air, see there, here, we all on that breath gap
held thoughts thought better later, when now is
and remember, experience lives in words, breathes
in minds lost in whying so long how is hard to admit,
just breathe, go on reading, or stop and think a little
differently, later, we'll see, won't we, lucky me, all in,
I have jubilee chips in as many jubilee games as took me
in, like a snake in a cold winter storm you know this story

hopalong cowboy clubfoot Kenurchka Klumpin
editor one. watch me work read on, if you got the keys.
I did, and notice nuts on the floor, so I'm not dying, now
I'm hungry, I think, I should eat. pine apple, easy got it.
twenty steps away, no rush
I'm thinking
this is my reality, and we are American poor,
with aspirations,
we'll see, fields of dream seeds, I set
may haunt me, jolly me,
all my days, I shall rejoice
to tell the story, of Jesus, and his love
so loaded need be nuances on words heard
and who heard and
when
you did, did you know, he knew,
no, he wisht it were so easy, so it was, lotsaweed, easy,
lotsa bandwidth, any

plain text any translation say it locally as if
we were all in assisted intelligence active in us, as we
form informing information bubbles of being we in us,
human spirits in word form with breathing souls,
and cold toes, and needs to pay attention, how
can I imagine living happily ever
after, if I could
mind die
not
space out and feel the wonder of words,
in 197 Wikipedian tongues at once, no warring, easy
soft, thing, soft landing hard reality, what's a calm cause
now,
space
time, taken
to get
from then
to next time, you have time,
I understand, the freedom
from the press,
and from the networks, leads back
to using us
to make sense
of the feelings we have little need
to breed for, we have plenty
of realistic body models,
prepositions impose nonsense in text
no warring prejudgments live to the end,
you bet who won… did you see this movie?
A lot of men relate
to body shame, but be seventy seven,
grow up and stop talking guy pub shame
on your old horseshite
rite, ritual way o'war,  Ares ways
to stop and think, roll on, role on, magic
without, needing a drink or a **** to joke about,
we lose loose ties
to religious goddamnedlies about
everything,
that, eventually is the point
of my madness,
all backing up as we think we speak
and laugh a little, this is as real as ever tookthegnaim
all you ever know of it begins, when you first agree,
we seem to think alike,
we all use water, in all the same ways
globally we try umph umph Taj Mahal
trying umph
in something we can think we did,
if we take credit
for the tech we all thing we used think thunk
to be knowing we thought we could, then we did,
it was fun, but, real stories do end,

this ain't one of those, on earth, or ever after all that.

.     I was a Holocaust sceptic

        Before the Ukraine war

     now I’ve read the Babi Yar.


       How can Zelensky lead

              the Azov horde

   They put jews to the sword.


         But for the red army

          The world resigned

   Why is Russia still maligned.


         And now once more

             A knave in Kiev

      Expects us all, to believe.


            Wake up world

           The west is lying

Their narrative needs clarifying.

***** is on the side of Ukraine

Azov now they are acting like Cain

But will they be Able

With the cards on the table

Or will Vlad ride on in like John Wayne.

.           Ukraine $ucks


  A chosen one has come to

  lead Bandera’s ****’s who,

  Azov now, are circumcised,

that’s the end of the porky’s.


  Ben Wallace said Ukraine

is a parasite leech *******

everything from NATO we're

not amazon @ takeaway . org

Fold to the mold
Conform to the norm

The formula is the worm you love

Pen something easy to grasp
Quick to understand

Easily digestible
Clear and concise

Don’t **** for second looks
Or wide interpretations

Keep that stuff for real books
And your thoughts in separation

We want old platitudes
Depressing tones of adolescent years
With about as much true depth as Azov

Keep it under 25 words
No one wants to read more than that these days
Your rabbit hole is full of two-thirds
It’s missing everything they want you to say

But if you give it a go
Without the limits understood
Maybe you’ll forgive my no’s
And make something YOU would

.                  Slava Russe



           Stefan Bandero, is Ukraines

             war hero though everyone

                knows he was *****.


         But the army of reds bashed

         in heir heads with a hammer

                and sickle and pike.


             Yet as history repeats,

           Azov ****’s drum beats

      but now they are led by a ****.


          Mother Russia we’re glad

        that you bore your son Vlad

because our world has not seen his like.

Ukrainians revel their Bandera
But Azov now they’ve become a chimera
They’re on the run in Bakhmut, back to Kiev by short cut
And some say that they’ve all got diarrhoea

Boris Johnson said the

  Ukraine war was macho,

a sign of toxic masculinity.


And if Putin was a woman

he would not have invaded.


If Putin was a woman Boris,

  should she have aborted,

    or let the Azov ****’s

   run their full gestation?

Zaporizhzhia


Ukraine Unclear Plant


              Suffers dyslexic mishap


Wires crossed power


                    Alternating between


Positive and negative

                                    Terminals

Azov* now Zelensky

                               Said Crimea

River and **** it

                                 We'll Putin

Vlad in the deep end

                                 With tanks

From Joe

                                 Bye Then


Andall@Alzheimers.US




Ryan 26/08/2022



Ps. Authors note.

Erase this poem immediately

After reading, Under no circumstance

Is it to be reproduced memorised or

Recited. By retaining this literature

On your computer, you will automatically

Be documented as a free thinker and not

A gullible believer that the losers were

Always wrong or bad and that (˚< geese

With open beaks are quackers.

depth appears
to be elusive
en masse.
shallowness is abundant like weeds in the grass.
beneath the
Pacific ocean
is 'Challenger Deep'.
the deepest of
all deep waters
at 36,200 feet.
and then you have the sea of Azov at less than
3 feet which could never refresh a wanting soul,
in a sultry summer's heat.
depth is mysteriously different,
filled with
hold your breath unknowns and
butterfly intrigue.
listen to depth's secrets as it crashes against the shoreline.
depth has so much to say
in so little time.
the shallows have no ability nor care to hear depth opine.
they stand in a puddle,
on surfaces
they dine.
dare to breach
depth's surface
and be fully ready to sink.
depth and substance are
the two most exquisite qualities,
be it in
a person
or a poem
in ink.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️