and looked into the mirror that the Isness of the Universe held before me.
Seeing nothing but the Isness of the Universes indifference
and glee at the ongoing 26 armed conflicts
it has initiated worldwide.
Seeing it possessing all the vanity and all the narcissism
worthy of a "god" or "goddess"or any "religious" leader. .
I am, as are all others,the individual Isness,
which is a small but equal,
individual autonomous and independent part,
of  the essence of the Isness of the Universe.
I am incarnated in this,the latest in a long lineage of bodies
dating back beyond numbers or clocks.
I am incarnated here to realise my true nature as an individual Isness.
Seeing naught but the Isness of the Universes perversity and destructiveness
manifest all around me,
in the various civilisations that have come and gone
and still remain ever warring and corrupt.
It is a hard thing to acknowledge that one is a part of the Isness of the Universe
when you are a separated part of it,
but truthfulness wins over "truth" any day for me.

Truthfulness is the only way to preserve my most precious possession which is my individual integrity.
I looked and saw corruption and shed just the one tear and  
shook my head slowly and sadly.
And I stood up and walked away ******* myself with hollow laughter
at how impotent and nackered the Isness of the Universe has become,
since it created the universe out of its own beingness.
All of us individual,one to each body,each a part of its very beingness.
I,this particular individual Isness, was there at the beginning,as were all others,
living the pure truthfulness of existence--as all individual Isness were.
In Union with the Isness of the Universe--not separated by bodies
Minds and GroupMinds and Conditioned Identities
and Group Conditioned Identities.
The Isness of the Universe acted biggy bangy turning its self into the Universe.
Then came the transition from less than nothingness
into existential beingness in a succession of bodies.
I separated from the Isness of the Universe and took the first of many bodies,
foolishly believing the things we had agreed on before selbst manifestatie would come to pass.
Naively believing that the Isness of the Universe's word would be honoured.
Fool that I was.
How untrustworthy and sly the Isness of the Universe has become,
hiding behind "religions" and the masks of many "gods" and "goddesses".
Using its many surrogate and shallow identities,
to manipulate and mislead my gullible fellow individual Isnesses
into the slaughter of War on an industrial scale.
Lauding the death of decency and honour and integrity
and non-violence and equality and unconditional love.
How vain and shallow the Isness of the Universe has become,vainly
demanding worship and praise and the blood of innocents
as if this petty narcissism is the raspberry sauce
on its cosmic Ice cream cone,to be licked avidly,
gore running down its chin.
How untruthful and evasive the Isness of the Universe has become,
a role model for death and war and criminality
and sexism and lies and untrustworthiness.
Who will help me talk sense into our progenitor
before it destroys life altogether?.
Is there any one out there who can stand with us
and talk back to our erring and errant beingness?.
Where are the real women and men,not the "seekers" with their endless narcissism and gullibility?.
Hiding behind stolen verses and concepts
taken from a million pornographic philosopies.
And please no prancing posturing chattering "poets" with
their fancy stanzas about love and destiny and
eternal bliss.
Oh and their "sincerity".
You against the world!.
more like you against those who would stop
you ******* the very life energy out of humanity.
Oh Cowards.
Are there no other Men and Women of Integrity alive?

www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk

Gwuts on gwanilliagax
Ready hot gwip

Trill on the vibrant note gabeeboh
What a thril it is to be in nice gazeebo
What a punk that doused on the free zobe
What punctillious panagax that frigged all the wets out
And when the trip to the sausage make didnt pull down alaz
Alaz, I am the wet tug.
Alaz, the sprig of wheat ***** taint.

Didn't you say you loved me?
Well, the bruts on the wagon sauce now
Didn't me have a big one, tug one, sauce one?
Well elemayo gwit gwits gwit gwits gwit gwit.....gwit

Embryo collecting on the branch of a saggy
My baggy be ripped, dripped all the can out
Me step on a puddle, the wet one, the biggy
My pets on the leg, rub, all on it sticky, how ******
He chugs out a wet belch and creams on the gricky
How quaint is his fat bristle comb, of his **** I am assured
This great honkulous tank sub that brits on my dimbo,in limbo my ship
It greats on the grates treat me to a sub snack ship ***** ***** factory get e
Tag me on your webpage, then **** me silly

"Existence is but a deception," thinks Mister Sen,
"a ***** little lie, a junkyard of loss created by all men."
With cellophane dreams in restless hearts,
Mister Sen contemplates "to- comprehend, this or that."
"But everything is as zero as good,
and all are as one as bad."
Mister Sen thinks to himself, "I ain't no ***** little rat..."

Thus he walked out, and right on to the door, and,
With fancy biggy dreams,
stopped once or maybe twice to check out the store,
A store of books which sold fiction and all those upon a time, just at once,
Mister Sen, therein and herein, thought of having a slightly furtive glance.

He has read a lot of Sartre, Beauvoir, and Gilles,
He has read of Toni Morrison, The bluest eye,
But he has never read of himself on any given day,
He has never read of himself within any story to say.

Thus Mister Sen thought to himself-
"I am all old and a bit too shy to be told, maybe...
In any drama or an in any such way, to be too fictitiously wavy,
Existence is but a deception, and a ***** little lie,
Even in fiction and philosophy, I Don't have any right to look
around with my eye,
Why won't I have a chance to say any goodbye?"

He walked home, all cold and tired, and all,
With nothing in the world which seemed to be so good as true,
Mister Sen but never thought of himself,
That he was a story, combined to form a million things, untrue.

Mister Sen, Well this one's for you!
"It was all in the cold winter air,
Where all the answers blew, They were all really blue,
Dreamy And wavy like scented flowers at night and bright,
Bright as white and pearly glow,
Mister Sen They were all really blue,
To be honest at heart, they were, Meant to be only for you."

Mister Sen,  this one is for you!

It was all in the cold winter air,
Where all the answers blew

you say you love the way I am
you say you love my uniqueness
but what you don't say
is what you tell other people

'she is such a '*****'
'I wish I never knew the fool'
'I wish I never transferred to this school
because I can't even stand her sight'
you know usually when someone tells
u something nice u say
'same to you'
the thing with this 'same to you'
is that I really wish that I
had never met you
I wish that you never transferred

**BUT the difference between us
is that I live in reality
people say what they want
although it hurts because I thought
you were my pal it doesn't affect me anymore
but on the other hand you spent an entire term
getting most of my new friends
thinking I'm a *****
its ok no biggy all this
is good -made me realize
that not every one is nice
I finally got up and smelled the coffee
thank God for 'BFFS'

Gone are the days of bluesy metaphors
Of rocking and rolling
Of the opening of doors
Gone are those days of Jazz and Funk
Of the *** Pistols, of Johnny and Sid
And that vicious junk
Gone too the days of Healy and Cohen
Along with Hank in the backseat and the itch of morphine
Gone along with  the one who loved the Alien
Martin and Cooke, Elvin and Elvis now free
Topac and Biggy and The Right to Party
I had a look and listen, I know the many I'm missing
Gone are the days of Alterative and Grunge and the Garage Band
Gone are Cobain with Leadbelly's "In the pines refrain"
Soon are gone the days of strings and horns
Taking their place are keyboard tickled by Unicorns

Thelonius Reborn as the Dee Oh Double Gee

If we rhyme metaphorically , reach back historically, spit out new styles  just like Miles, compose tunes that Trane, John Coltrane, would be proud to compile, or like the Bird, Charlie Parker, bravely brake rules, take take take, the music apart, do you  honor Darwinian progress? Do you demand excellent art? Then you might might be from Hip- Hop,  yeah, that's where many geniuses start. The way each style, with its own honed sharpened edge, achieved unique prominence,  it’s just Chi Town Commonsense.
It's simple, it's like nature, there is no fakers, take Kanye West or Chet Baker. Satchmo begets Biggy, Tupac was influenced by Dizzy. Our Discerning ears are blessed each time new evolutions arise, that redesign and define, unleashing musical highs with no conpromise. Parallels and similarities to cool people like you should be no suprise. Stretching art just for art's sake, eyes eyes eyes, on no other prize.
They got Words and Chords fired with a furious frenzy and a ferocious fluidity. Lines and rhymes scatted so scathingly slow they create this surreal serenity. It Might have you boppin to Hampton, Sir Duke , or Miss Ella? Or tip you to trippin on Twista,  Tribe Quest, Rockafella.
Monk and Snoop, Thelonius and the  D. O. Double G ,they both got game.. Basie the Count, The Clan of Wu Tang, the same. Dedicating days, weeks, even years carefully, lovingly crafting perfection. Giants, and I do mean Giants,  of Hip- Hop and Jazz,share that improvisational connection.
But alas, amidst greatness we are graced, and humbly  each day,I say, Let's embrace the soulful caress that each genre conveys. That Cool Cat may take hip- hop, that Pretty Lady may take jazz, or you can twist the order around. Cause each delivers a pleasure that is non- stop, and that, my amazing people,  is How Music should Sound!!
Bobby O




◦

Thelonious  Reborn as the Dee Oh Double Gee

If we rhyme metaphorically , reach back historically, spit out new styles  just like Miles, compose tunes that Trane, John Coltrane, would b proud to compile, or like the Bird, Charlie Parker, bravely brake rules, take take take, the music apart, do you  honor Darwinian progress? Do you demand excellent art? Then you might might b from Hip- Hop,  yeah, that's where many geniuses start.
It's simple, it's like nature, there is no fakers, take Kanye West or Chet Baker. Satchmo begets Biggy, Tupac was influenced by Dizzy. Discerning ears are blessed each time new evolutions arise, that redesign and define, unleashing musical highs with no conpromise. Parallels and similarities to cool people like you shud b no suprise. Stretching art just for art's sake, eyes eyes eyes, on no other prize.
Words and Chords fired with a furious frenzy and a ferocious fluidity. Lines and rhymes scatted so scathingly slow they create this surreal serenity. Might have you boppin to Hampton, Sir Duke , or Miss Ella? Or tip you to trippin on Twista,  Tribe Quest, Rockafella.
Monk and Snoop, Thelonius and the  D. O. Double G ,they both got game.. Basie the Count, Clan of Wu Tang, the same. Dedicating days, weeks, even years carefully, lovingly crafting perfection. Giants, and I do mean Giants,  of Hip- Hop and Jazz,share that improvisational connection.
But alas, amidst greatness we are graced, and humbly  each day,I say, Let's embrace the soulful caress that each genre conveys. That Cool Cat may take hip- hop, that Pretty Lady may take jazz, or you can twist the order around. Cause each delivers a pleasure that is non- stop, and that, my amazing people,  is How Music should Sound!!
Bobby O




◦

They had to make it
it was about time
everyone being immortal
was getting way out of line

So they drew up plans
to make death come to man
tirelessly they worked
putting time on the blueprints

Labs were working overtime
many did feel strained whilst they refined
this was going to be the biggy
they could not wait to unleash it on cities

When all was complete
all did meet and greet
all was completed very well
now they did release on Earth hell


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris