It was always going to be black and white
that's the typeface on my preference of late
defining day and night with your choice of tights
those fine dividing lines on your partnered limbs
wrapped tall in belts daring as a Lara Croft climb
a silky striped raggedy ann gone neat sensuous
tight strapped to a two striking sinuous princess
committed to lodge sins inside my Loveland challenge
hemmed in round towers together to never-never unhinge

at home we horse around and rub along together
boosted by the interplay between cotton twill gathered
pulled low one side then canter balance riding high
as you level up to a line up of outbound thigh
saddled with a lovely leg stirrup over here
and a lean waist wobble to match up there
eyebrow lifts to starch arrowroot attention
over the swings and sway of every action
so swift I play catch-up each morning
delayed by fumbling for ones gone matching
it's a wonder you don't just wander away
in a daze from my one legged hopping display

then I would travel far as a bee
long-legged as stilts could be
to sing to your nails and feet
and be spun free flaunting
our google
a red white and blue
pair of giggles unfurled like flags
in your slim line dancers' legs
dangling ideas like fair weather socks
to goggle one direction behind your back
unique like nobody else contains within
thin licked then rolled back ciggie skins
so I pinch holes in the bacci parts
sinking into slats like leaky wooden boats
your avoiding tiptoes gadfly and curl in return
my feet undoing knits with swats and swirls
toeing tinkling notes like piano keys
undertones pink tinged with tingling knees
and when a jukebox plays
my coins are there always
for I've got your pop socks in motion
your vox populi's united under my skin
with impressive pulled tight bands
embedding imprint elastic rings
inky red slinking down
leaving parallel links


ignore my pins and needles
alone in dead of night
longing for your leggings
luminous stripe tights
today it's all me put on the spot
today it's music you might hate
biographies of people you don't like
subtitled movies too deep to bother
blue jeans dull dyed against your garter belt
a one man team can't DIY a drill majorette
spiralling shafts that come to a threaded point
enthralling with alternating knee bend bit pants
so pretty poly soft I'm pulled up like a fool
fully mixed up by your weaving cotton wool
wave me down in your way of sweet patter feet
a patterned cakewalk for you to catwalk sock it
to me in a stand in posey kind of way
this way to stand outs knitted to fancy
uncross your legs and cross-stitch
my path with gaited kisses
closely

The mulled cider is spoiled
the drunken clown ran out of helium
the roses withered
sapphire's shattered
the paper is burned
your eyes dont shine
they dont sparkle
your arm is now covered
with scars brought on by a lover
write it down in the books
cause boy I've never loved another
the way I once loved you
a place in my heart
for a man of 420
my mistake
would be our fate
oblivious to lies
you then became
part of my game
two timing you
not my intention
took you out of my jar
of hearts past broken
but returned you there after my mistake
close up your scars
and dry your **** eyes
it's over now
don't call me baby
I've done you wrong
move on today
you'll do great
she'll love you like i did
but you'll be her only
spoil her silly
notice her quirks
she'll love you like i did
she'll love your embrace
she'll know your face like i did
she'll love your piercings, your tattoos
and even your car
c'mon kid you'll be fine
show off that smile
and those beautiful eyes
she'll be a **** toker
just like you
you'll laugh together
like we have so many times before
you'll love her as much
as you once lived me
she'll love you like i did
but you'll be her only

none of you understand what i’m saying is i’m not like any of you never married never parented children never owned real estate don’t believe in government the law hate rich people not afraid to lose everything risk life for the chance at a better life yes i graduated from Philadelphia dental school practiced medicine several years dashing handsome cordial Georgia physician yet knowing i was dying then of tuberculosis i wanted to feel alive know danger taste possibilities ******* greedy ranch and railroad barons all you cotton gin grist mill moguls loud mouthed Yankee carpetbaggers bounty hunters self-righteous snake oil preachers with your fearful farmstead flocks what the hell do you think Big Nose Kate and me were doing in Tucson why i risked my life at Tombstone’s OK Corral i’ll tell you why because we were desperate beyond your comprehension long-drawn-out careworn hours twisted in desperation insufferably plodding nights so desperate Kate relieved me daily yet in back of each our minds we understood we were both slaves to ancient unfair corrupt economic system that provided enough whiskey to cope desperate for money allegiance shelter frantic enough to face loaded guns aimed firing at me it was hell on earth glaring sun beating down desert dust blowing burning eyes bullets cutting everywhere 1880’s revolvers lacking accuracy even with expert gunsmith modifications young men riddled with bleeding gunshot wounds in 6 years i was dead age 36 hey Kate was no cakewalk she was a ***** who knew how to play me flirting charming admiring exaggerating her strange Hungarian lust encouraging provoking prostituting on her knees back tummy fingers mouth managing somehow to become acquainted with Arizona Governor George Hunt then surviving to age 90 you modern day sleepers who read this rambling cower at airport security passively submit to insidious militarizing culture invasively inspecting camera scanning for cuticle scissors nail file weapons all ludicrous absurdist theatre while real bad guys can easily tape 3 McDonald’s plastic knives together or ball point pen pierce pilots passengers throat arteries skyjack planes hijack bus trains you are no safer than you ever were before Homeland Security Czars foreign wars where we don’t belong riding has grown so weary courage ruthless longing vexing generating entire industry of airport security corporate mall tariff duty free shops inflated restaurant menu prices liter bottle of water $4.99 welcome to America **** me now or **** me later who cares what i look like what i wear if i’m dry shaven smell like goat if i cough up chunks of lung spit tuberculosis germs on polished floors just so long as i pay the toll fee and don’t go shooting off my mouth

It's about who you know in a room
full of strangers. Often times it's
fashioning a blindfold while
squinting to hear whispers.

Some may even consider the use
of a napkin to blot lipstick so a
collar presented at a later time
can be given a delicate touch.

And the manipulative know that
it's easier to **** someone with a kiss
than to completely rely on *******.

And lest we forget the crude that
claim ignorance when referring to
spit slowly sliding down someone's
skull as proper lubrication.

This all proves that ****** fluids
that contribute to a body of work
is priceless, especially Crimson.

To manage this all requires an
everlasting recipe. This is cake
made with blood, sweat, and tears
compared to the uncooked cake
left dormant in a box.

Preheat the oven.
Lower the libido.
More sugar..
A Country Crock...
Serve cold.

Did you know the East Indian Bottle Masala includes as many as 27 spices, or that an oil-free pickle served at their weddings is actually known as Wedding Pickle?

These and many such authentic East Indian masalas and pickles are available at East Indian Cozinha (Portuguese for kitchen), a food store started by Christina Kinny at Kolovery Village in Kalina, Santacruz. "I started East Indian Cozinha with an attempt to preserve and highlight our cuisine and culture," says the 24-year old, who has studied Masters in Social Work and currently, works with an enterprise that helps tribal farmers.

What’s in store?

Going back 500 years, the East Indian cuisine enjoys influences from Portuguese, British and Maharashtrian fare. The staples include rice, coconut, tamarind, fish and meats, with spices forming an integral part of the cuisine. For instance, Prawn Atola is a dry dish comprising prawns coated only with Vindaloo Masala featuring Kashmiri chilli, cumin and turmeric. "Most people from our community were farmers and would be out on field all day. So, the masalas and lemon would help preserve their food for a longer time," reasons Kinny.

At present, the store stocks six varieties of masala in 100g bottles (R150 onwards). These include Khuddi or Bottle Masala, Chinchoni (fish) Masala, Vindaloo Masala, Roast Rub, Kujit Masala and Tem Che Rose. She also offers Wedding Pickle, an oil-free variety prepared with raw papaya, carrots and dry dates. "All the recipes have been passed on from generations and are homemade," she informs.

However, making the masalas is no cakewalk. "It takes three days to dry spices under the sun. Then, we hand pound them and pack them tightly in bottles with wider openings," says Kinny. She recalls that in her grandmother’s time, the masalas were tightly stuffed in beer bottles. The bottles were darker, and hence, helped preserve the masala for at least a year, at room temperature.

Lugra love

East Indian Cozinha also stocks traditional 10-yard saris known as lugras. These are hand embroidered by Kinny’s mother, Carol. Previously made only from cotton with authentic gold borders, now, lugras are embroidered with sequins and threads. "She has been in the garment industry for the last 30 years. She also makes traditional accessories like kapotas (earrings), karis (hair pins), anklets, etc," informs Kinny.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses

The club is small and dark and hazy
like the veiled comedy of minstrel performers.
Those dingy lights do little for the atmosphere—
dangling hemp from clouds of cigarette smoke.

This hole is filled with the classy of day and the
sassy of night—a real “blue material” kinda crowd.
Harry, the manager, after calling quarter and five,
booked some awful oleo acts just minutes before
“places!”

—The crowd sits on their hands ‘til they’re numb
and lame like the fish they watch flop on the boards.
Two acts down followed by some soot-covered
clown’s lazzo about who’s who and what’s what.

Give me a break! The crowd wants fresh fish to fry—
Girlies in pearlies with spun out legs that tower
the torsos they’re pinned to. Give them that
New York Style Cheese-cakewalk Variety Act!

The listless listeners of this K.A. circuit let out a
snake-like hiss, en masse. (The only show stoppers
are off the billing, stage left at some other club!)
The manager thinks fast like a quick change act—

Harry snatches a prop from the nearest kook—
In a long brown bathrobe, with a broad brown cane.
He hushed the crowd of loud, jeering jerks, in one
swift swoop of his leg-breaking, knockout **** called
The Vaudeville Hook.

For someone who is as busy and as big a deal as Tamannaah Bhatia, her courtesy comes as breath of fresh air. "I am in Mumbai in the middle of back-to-back shoots for endorsements," she says, apologising profusely, for a few minutes' delay in keeping her appointment with us. With films lined up in Telugu, Tamil and Hindi, Tamannaah is one busy bee, indeed. "The Bahubali shoot still on — I have some work left in it which will be completed this month," she says, as she settles down down for a chat with Hyderabad Times. Excerpts.

So, you must have become quite a pro at sword-fighting, horse-riding et al, now that you are close to wrapping up the shoot for Bahubali...

(Laughs) Playing Avantika has changed my life. Horse riding was something I had never tried before. It was a completely new space to be in and it was scary. I realised that the only way to deal with it is to first face my fears, even before I stepped into the arena to train. Because once I'm on the horse, it's either me riding the horse or the horse taking me for a ride. (laughs). So there was no room for fear. But the training really helped me become more agile and sensitive to my body. This film changed how the industry looked at me. I went from being a dainty, soft girl to this strong woman.

So, do you look at yourself differently as well?

Well, I have overcome a lot of fears — be it the fear of heights or anything that's even remotely challenging physically. I feel empowered now. I have seen myself transform. I was someone who would think twice before going out alone; now, when someone says you have to do an aerial shot, I am like, 'Bring it on!' I'm not scared of things any more. I'm not nervous; not anxious. In general, I'm a braver person.

After this, acting in entertainers might seem like a cakewalk...

Not necessarily. Even the song in Abhinetri demanded a lot from me physically. I mean, there were 15 days of hectic rehearsals alone before we got to the real shoot. The job of an actor is such that you are required to be fit all the time. This is one profession that gives you the ability, no, the right to focus on yourself — physically, mentally and emotionally. It makes you stronger. And I quite enjoy it!

You seem to be enjoying being the fashionista too, of late...

(Laughs) Believe it or not, before I went to Bollywood, I thought there was no such thing as fashion industry. I thought movies drove fashion. I had no clue how trends came about. I did not know that there were trends for every season, nor was I aware of the many fashion weeks. I was more of an actor; less of a fashionista.

When I started doing Hindi films, I realised that fashion was not some frivolous business! People might think, 'Arrey, what's the fuss about what shoe you wear?'. But, now,

I like dressing up because I realise that it is an expression, and an extension, of your personality. There was a lot of trial and error, but in the end, I found my personality through clothes. Now, when I am sitting and chilling, I find myself researching on trends. I feel responsible for the fashion choices I make, because when you set a trend, hundreds are going to follow you. You don't want to set the wrong example.

So much pressure! How do juggle it all and manage to stay sane?

Family. I have always had them around me, even if they aren't physically present. So when I am having a crazy day and need to find some sanity, I will look for solace in family. In fact, there have been times when they felt I didn't sound alright on the phone, so they took the next flight to come see me. Having a support structure like that keeps me sane.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-canberra | www.marieaustralia.com/plus-size-formal-dresses

About time,
I've paid my dues I've crossed the line,
This moment I thought would never come,
Is in my grasp, the deed now done.

Don't get me wrong, I loved my Mum,
But all that passed would surely stun
Even a saint or the Lord above,
So tiring being an aimless dove.

Now I'm ready to take the world by storm,
Show them my worth, no longer act forlorn,
The wife I always wanted by my side,
I can finally get into my Kingly stride.

The Little ****** that remains,
Harry's willful character that pains,
I've summoned experts to hear what they might say
To finally obtain a sample of his mysterious DNA.

I'm not claiming he's not mine,
But as Americans would shout, ‘I wouldn't bet a dime’,
Thank goodness I've got my other boy,
A stand-up chap that brings me nothing but pure joy.

As to Camilla, my soulmate from the start,
From whom they never could tear me far apart,
She now stands by me as my Queen,
You saw me beam with joy like a lovestruck teen.

Don't get me wrong,
I'm painfully aware my reign may not be long,
But while I'm here, I plan to make my mark,
Understanding this job is no cakewalk in the park.

I've got the Aussies wanting to jump ship.
The Canadians on their own perennial trip,
The Scots plotting for a Clansman King,
And Parliament seeking me do next to nothing.

Yet I've got a plan,
Something that will surely stun,
Become a multimedia star,
And thus take them all across the bar.

I can jig, dance and sing,
Fly helicopters, do pretty much of anything,
Plant trees, help save our World
How can all of this be thought absurd.

Politicians just blow smoke,
Send their countries near flat broke,
I instead bring Billions in
Collecting smiles from wheresoever I have been.

That said let me enjoy my moment in the sun,
Reflecting on all that's been and done,
My resolve is firm, my duty clear,
My life's work is aimed at all, both far and near.

So rest easy, enjoy the ride,
Sailing smoothly on a flowing tide,
Over a thousand years in the making
My oath is one of giving and not taking.

Happy Birthday to my DAD
Another YEAR of life to add
Another YEAR of wisdom gained
Another LEVEL'S been attained
Yet there's more ACHIEVEMENTS to UNLOCK
To level up is no CAKEWALK
With the power of FAMILY by your side
I think you will enjoy the RIDE

Life's not a cakewalk. There are trial's, tribulations.
Downtimes, agitations. Sweet lovin or imitations.
Life's not a cakewalk, life's a seed so let it grow.
Life is a plea of something bigger than us
Let life's seed flourish and grow.

Here in this society
We're told we must
"Fit in".
Only then you'll
Stay in step
Only then you'll win.
I've never been
A "round peg".
I won't now begin.
I will not look
The other way
When people
lie & sin.
If you diss my savior
I'm sorry...
I won't grin!

So you think that
You can save yourself?
You have a "moral" way?
You don't need repentance.
You don't have to pray.
Friend, you will be tested!
There will come a day.

This is from a loving heart!
I don't carry a grudge
I am far from perfect
And so I cannot judge!

But when you hurt
The Lord's rep
You bet I'm gonna fight!
I wear a frown!
I won't back down!
I'll scream with
ALL MY MIGHT!
He saved me from
The second death!
He rescued me
From night!
He brought me
Out of darkness
Into His marvelous light!

Being Christian's
NOT a cakewalk!
It is NOT A GAME!
I will not stand
Aside and watch
Some people
TAKE HIS NAME!
Say it with due reverence!
DON'T SAY IT IN VAIN!

Some stay out of conflict.
But I'm gonna SHOUT!
I wasn't made to
"Just fit in"...

I'm made to
STAND OUT!!


♡ Catherine

Standing on the sidewalk
Hearing all the back talk
Watching while they cakewalk
Wonderin’ how I got here.

Step behind the bar table
Fool yourself if you are able
Tell yourself this ain’t no stable
And them ain’t dumb animals.

Start a conversation
End it in frustration
Why the aggravation
You know ******* can’t talk.

Turn into a pill head
Drop ‘em til you see red
Wish that you could be dead
Or anywhere but here.
                   <<>>

Did not work out well for Brits circa 1857.
Sepoys blown from guns. Lesson learned. Empire upheld.
In America, history does not apply. Only winning.
When 3.3 million get up and leave. Syrian Chaos.
Oh, that magic feeling: nowhere to go. Or elsewhere.
Have much. Use much. Enjoy much. Care little.
Other than genocide. No obvious solution. Or Malthus.
Cats cry in Gelid winter. Home where you don't find it.
Gigantic cakewalk with no chairs. Only losers.
Oh where, oh where, will these little lambs go.
Anywhere but your back yard. Concern, not Welcome.
Find great open spaces: Australia, Antarctica.
Out of sight out of mind. Heart grows forgetful.
Remember Law of Unintended Consequences:
     I and the Public know what all schoolchildren learn;
     Those to whom Evil is done, do Evil in return.

   ~mce

SANDOVAL
            Your brigs of bustling pilgrims light at last
            On this sweet-scented isle called Cozumel.
            Depopulating half of Cuba’s farms,
            The skills of our six hundred souls, or so,
            Erupt now in a pitched activity.
            We’ve confiscated idols, and our cross
            Now overlooks the rising ropes and tarps;
            Our cannons hedge the campground, with our horse,
            As secret weapons, hidden in the ships.

ALVARADO
            Now what a breezing cakewalk will it be
            To pacify this docile flock of lambs!
            Let’s ****** the sweetmeats from their trembling lips,
            And wean them to the yoke of servitude.
            Vassals alone make masters out of men.

CORTÉS
            Not yet so fast. For Cuba’s stewardship
            Forbids such a carnivorous regime.
            Father Olmedo warns us not to tease,
            Much less ******, the native nymphs.

ALVARADO                                                        Cortés,
            We trust that you, like all stargazing men,
            Crave glory, fortune, and above all, fame;
            That royal favor and divine accord
            Will light on those who quell idolatry,
            And carve new lands for God and His Castile.

CORTÉS
            But like a gentlemanly pirate, I.
            For Cuba’s governor deceives himself.
            His pure concern for human chattel, gold,
            And bandying the Indies as it were
            A distant annex of the Moorish war
            Has wrought a desert from a paradise.
            Long-term success requires a colony.
            And with what wherewithal! These islanders
            Stand head and shoulders o’er Carribbeans,
            With their rich-painted books and towering keeps,
            The graceful girding of their modesties-

SANDOVAL
            Their slave trades, and their binding bright bouquets-

ALVARADO
            Distilling liquor: Culture’s surest sign.

CORTÉS
            Our prime directive is to baptize them,
            Not march before their eyes the Seven Sins.
            But how to learn their Tower-of-Babel tongues?

Tuck your tongue behind his cheek
Stop his mouth from another leak
Now if only you could stop his hand

One thing to another in a different shade
Hang yourself with the ropes he made
He’s such a cynical cakewalk

Pray your way free from his silly games
He’s a priest and clown he goes by many names
Either way, don’t listen to his nonsense

He’ll put you in my box full of all your friends
Ice cream and candy from end to end
Isn’t he the greatest that ever lived?

The food is plastic and your friends are fake
Eyes wide open but your not awake
Hero’s on his way any minute now

Knight in shining armor breaks through the air
But he’s the monster that put you there
Yes, he goes by so many names

He’s the man you’ve seen from all your scares
Can’t picture him in your wildest nightmare
Far from a dream anyone can see

Doesn’t need a mask to make believe
He doesn’t need a mirror to deceive
He’s got so many names, he might as well have none

Nothing is accomplished
with ease, well, not worth
mentioning, if it's a doddle.

Give us our daily bread has a
Socialist ring, that same bell as,
please Sir may I have some more.

Bakers have never had it easy,
inclement hours, heat, solitude,
why it is, there is no Breadwalk.


For the Bread Muse.

yellow discus
                                        break the sky

in porcelain wash

                                              the
      gle­am union tethers
                of cleft verandahs
                         pavement and weeds


  in slow dawn

                                   follow

         into houses
                               into houses


sit

                        wait and ease

             coffee mugs and soda stream

       an old sofa tear
          left in half rupture

the humbling comfort
     of a freely shared meal

aside

                            make small talk with the locals
                         before the next
                                                    mortar shells


till
       pack at first light

                       amiable waves
          side-long goodbyes


get up
                  fall down
                                        march on


listening in
     the children songs
        of cakewalk structures


                  fall down


live from a backpack
   foam mattress and gas light
       soft monoxide dreams


                                        march on


don't get left behind
             from standing too long
                         squinting in confusion

among

                 city streets
                    phantom bodies
          lost in half rapture


get up

           changeling soldier
       of changing skies

                                        march on


             live in a backpack
     canvas and tent pegs





the blanketing rain
         is always a comfort
  'cept when you're in it

No one will ever read my journals
Any more than they read my odes.
I’ve left my mark so carefully
But I wrote it in the sand
And I wrote it at low tide.

You need to carve your name in stone
In words that live eternally
Not write in smoke across the sky
Where zephyr winds will scatter it.

I wanted to be recognized
A standout in the crowd
I hoped my brilliant verbiage
Would capture fashion’s eye
And I could win the cakewalk.

But the cameras turned the other way
And never saw me fan my plume.
I followed them for half a mile
But they never turned to look.

No one will note my journal here
The one who could, strives to forget.
I’ll be someone without a name
Who couldn’t reach out far enough
To grab and keep the golden ring.
           ljm

As all are against auspicious atrocities, agitating aspirants arbitrate astounding audience,
Blow by blow breaking brown bricks brings barbarous battle because blue birds break bad bottles,
Clicking clocks cover cocktail coffee converging corners calling cakewalk cobwebs commercially,
Dancing dolls drink diluted droplets drowning deep digging diversifying didactic doctorates,
Enriching eulogy edifies every evaluator easily energetically emitting extra efforts efficiently,
Fleeting floppies fully fascinated flop frolic fantasy for forgetting farewell fashion falsely,
Girls going gliding gymnastics goggling goals gripped glittering gestures gaining gracelessly,
High heels horrify hectic horses hurrying heedlessly hitting hot hotels harshly,
Intuitive ideology intensified in ink ideas illustratively immersed in illusive ice,
Jack judges jugglers juggling judiciously jumping jelly just jotting juicy jam,
Kaleidoscopic kettle kicking knight killing kite knocking Kentucky’s knot,
Lollipop ladies looking like lovely locusts lingering loose lips largely,
Mocking monkey munches marigold molecules marching marvelously,
Nightly naughty nymphs narrate nautical notes nine notches necking necklaces,
Obviously obscure obesity obtains oriental origami organizing Orlando’s oration,
Pinky pig punches paper *** pulling plaits powerfully putting pretty pens,
Queens queuing quickly quarterly quantum queer quagmire,
Ripples revolting rides revolving right rigorously raising rings round,
Silver stallion struggles striding straight showing somersaults shaking shells,
Tadpole tornadoes torture tinkering tumbler tickling tiny thistles,
Umbrella utopia ushers utility utensils unimaginably under usurping unity,
Vanishing vanity velocity vulnerably vindicates valuable vessel,
Warbling wobbles worry waves wantonly whitewashing walls wastefully,
Xylophone X-mas ‘xpresses’ xiphoid xebec xeroxing xylan xylite,
Youthful yearning yields yearlong yellow yachts yelping yolks,
Zealous zephyr zoologically zigzagging zinc zippering zillion.

Doughnuts of your cheesy gratitude
Engulfed by lying scoundrels
As they sip your classic soup
Of the sweetest innocent emotion
How you bore a cakewalk
Like pertition in hot waters
How you opted for burnt cult
Rather feeding fancy miracles
Lightning a fuse
Added on to your woes
As they mess with you
They just starved for an appetizer
Of your sincerest approval
But you were not your puppet
And let them out of order
Your imprudent was your innocence...

The prime seat in its own colour decked with gems,
The scepter at the right and the scroll at the left,
The carpet in the front and the beauties at the back,
The whole of the seat, surrounded by minions,
Under the roof of luxury and manipulation:
Airplanes across nations; military fascination;
Self-styled profile; Cakewalk attires;
No cost hospitals; sheathed in ‘Black Cats’;
Floating in dream cars; pocketful currency;
Illegality against law; Cosmetic actors;
Pen in the right hand, eraser in the left hand;
Lying against truth; falsifying reality;
Kicking the ignorant citizens with empty schemes;
Fanaticism against patriotism;
Skilled in Disguise Show; Crafty-minded in bargaining;
Sellers and vendors of nations’ legitimacy;
Eating the simple pie of the poor, hugging the corporates;
Terrorizing the supporters of nations;
Dwindling the economy of nations;
Building weapons and Bio tools;
Tarnishing the reality with paradoxical episodes;
Bullet trains through the veins of the ignorant citizens;
Building aristocratic bonds among infamous showcases;
Sidelining the needs of the needy; amassing wealth for families;
Of all deeds of negativity, there is one left,
And that is self-justification of all deeds,
For the seat of Power in its own colour decked with gems,
The scepter at the right and the scroll at the left,
The carpet in the front and the beauties at the back,
The whole of the seat, surrounded by minions,
Under the roof of luxury and manipulation.
So I sought and seek Power.

SURAH 910
The psittacists of the malaxage of malabathrum attempts at covvengerized metensomatosis defile the very flombricks of the plasmamium cracking at the unseemly phememes of specious paraselenic polkamania at the pelargic wricks of the wroth and wrox of yeltings denouncing the meroscopic moulins of freggetted ragtagger paynimry metapolitical wegotism of parietal paroxytone pteropine qwartion designed indelibly in the maltelasse of the repined pantography against the megistothermic kenomanicaphobia of the dutiful demarche from the porriginous portfire that crassifies every polder into periblebses of volcanic tirades of mofette because of the mows of moya recriminated around circumducted poikilothermic vindictivolence because the reremouches of guarded sotissiers flaunting their praxinoscopic perenendoscopic maltsters of privvy theatromania might vauntlay themselves among the vanguard for the wirewoven fabric never of mendaciloquent fabrications of prosopographilalia always done in ventose conceit of megalomaniacal desperation by the earwigs of dikephobia that they might taste the torment of the day they are denied of their proper brevets of flargentum and instead reasted upon the stew of the murengers of yeltings that bratingly reject frikmag upon prima facie cogitabund and meditabund fanciful whimsy in the anemocracy that agrunters of their prisoptometers of recalcitrance they might taste the stain of their acrimony rather than the recidivism of mugient morigeration that storges never an enmity and always a tympany of alveolate harmonization of the synectic broods of eutrapely. In the kaleidophones of the komatik herculean viragos of webster heroism despite their foisted epigones of pseudogyny in attempts at dethroning maritodespotic phallocracy wirewoven into the resofincular audacity of the chomage of the chirked swirk of forswinked frustraneous endeavors lewdly cadging and roodging the hypesters of wegotist flargentum in ergotall chantage wormcast beyond the woonerf of the rackrent Rabelaisian ebriection of the wretchocks of wayspayed dormitage redundant in its canter of verisimilitude in the echopraxia of the enviable by the envied that they might understand that the yelting murengers of murage belong in sacrosanct harmony with the eutrapely never of wallfish walleteers domineered by the lability of their wambling stature jengadangled upon the precipice of astroud asterongue notoriety expounded by the plasmamium of recoil and the covvengers of modest modicum earned by the machinules of their coerced decorum that the nanciful prance of the cakewalk of prurience might be recorded by the Master Record of Al-Muhaymin as the subterfuge of pralltriller tropoclastic obrogation of existent statute bowdlerized by the ptochony of the puericulture of dormant wayspayers obsessed with viraginous wesperm because of herculean deficits in retchination because of cynosures of cyesolagnia of tympany that might become a retched mistetch of the serendipity of melodikon that despises the plankwise pillory of wertfrei in the mangonel of those desperate to find a mittimus against the plenipotentiary by the jengadangle of aleatory finitism in prescriptivists who flout based on their cecutiency of immoralism that the gladiatorial edge and brazen zugzwang might backfire in enormities upon the jemadar of the serpentine slither of hederaceous pointillism in Freudian surrealism of the mascon of pretended indemnity personified by the mongery of the hipped hobohemia of jerboas incapable of jiboya that fewer mugient hypertrophies of exaggerated parabolaster find findrouement in their recalcitrance rather than their mountenance and that their bluepomp redstrall might stumble in fliction rather than in rancid frinteran scams of jazzbos of emasculated pandora flummoxed by a bewildered scorn of sentinel machinules exasperated of the ploys of kakistocracy. The registry of the moffets of kalabothron that ingeminates refines corrugates and snatches never from the perjury of eidolon the perfectable mantissa of the soluble antipangamists of an age punctuated by pantography lassoed by the servile toadies of reremouches of redstrall demeaning in their every demarcation of mendacity done in wapenshaw and wapentake of the weighage of their perpended meldometers of radical incarceration because of phlogistons tone deaf to phocine regius regalia that they might find the touching spectacle of the calcimine yeltings a purpresture hortatory and peremptory enough to derail their attempted commenefaction of the filagersion of the flombricks of regurgitated efforts at pelargic hebephrenia obtained by polders of gid flajousting their way into the coddles of portentous infamy rather than insuperable fame of Parousia. We maraud in the whiggarchy of the wrepolis of one verberating with plangorous sempiternal evasion of pointed porbeagle mantissa deprived of the isonomy of the raltention of the halldorn ktenology rather than kymatology of supersensible moments etched into the fabric of indelible eternity that any perceptible hallswallop is already a hikkle and hibble of obganiation that endangers the pugient popocracy of the lackadays among the popjoys of the campanile febrile aristocratic latitude of presidential hearth outnumbering by the qualms of peremptory logodaedaly that never a plumbism encounters an elitism and never a plumeopicean piscifauna descends into the heyday of moffets of maidan madness in the viduity of the world from certain cynosure in sinecures of madefaction rather than exclusivity in the prescriptivism of a physicalist nihilism attempted by the morigeration of many a covvenger obsessed with wricks and suborned by wrox to become tumbleweeds that tritefully in platitude always denature the mesozeugmas of the topgallant asseveration of latitude rather than a perpended valetudinarianism. The nauclatic barnstorm of all potagers of the outmantled vicissitude of the echopraxia of pralltrillers of the rindkline of outmoded sondage in the sennet of the pertinacity of wegotists marauding against their paraselenic critics that always try to vauntlay because of moya that has mowed down entire generations of evergreen groundlings of the geotaxis of photophiles that spar against the rectiserial subaltern mountenance of the mottle of scaramouch metapolitics in retrenchment and retreat because of the sempiternal flabbergast of gentrified wroth and wrox of waldflutes that bemoan the hikkle of the rhadamanthine jumboism of misocleres of minatory subsultus in contrivance only perceptible to the thrombosis of cacidrosis that the petcocks and cockshies of elitism spurn with spindrifts of brinkmanship of the galvanized pseudogyny of bluestocking smardagine attempts to swallow the Earth whole by the singularity of the procrustean never the walleteer of the wallfish of tralleyripped jawholes of potamology that chirk their way about Simple Jack but never preternatural Julian because the asterongue meteoric meteromancy of the pretense of spurious spumid thrombosis calcimined by yeltings of wallbaggers rather than the hinderbaggle of recadency rectiserial in its gallywow prestige of polders fulminating in every exasperation to riotously remonstrate against paragons rather than congregate around flippant frivverscrabbles of frinteran ill-humor that never use proper cephaligation of morphaen cacidrosis waged upon the impavid intertesselation of the flombricks of glib triage foisted above rhotacism of the rhubarb crassified by the detritus of the alchemy of waldgraves attempting to resort to carnaptious deeds of vauntlay in villainy that spawn the retched errundle of the desultory tatamae of the vetust brocrawler fighting against the coalized recalcitrance of the paltripolitan pantapolis desperately yeuking in its intorted incivisms of inurbanity to posterize the cackling humdingers that shake entire centuries with qualms rather than traumatize with the yikkers of flashy torpindage attempting torpillage against the assailants of the plagated murenders that berate the chatoyant yeltings for their brayed assault against the chamois belonging originally to backwater champlaignes that asseverate their power dynamics with psychodynamic mesozeugma in the age of messianism despite the pelargic wegotists paraded in their verdure of foothot temerity too tempestive to survive the carracks and carnet of pantographs that become the mignons of the pantomnesia of the carousel of trumpery among the oppositive heelers that demand never a vindictivolence of moffets but always lapidate the vandykes of rhipidate and rhizogenic mottles of subversive metastrophe because of metapolitical allegiance to portfires of the tocsins of pretended alarmism rather than kenomanicaphobic brilliance sheening prefulgent in the ruffianized pullulation that berates itself for its pangamys of faltering panmixia and thereby corrugates itself upon the yestertempest of the attempts at youthquake that shatter the younkers of crotaline elitism sheepish of its own finifugal respite in podobromhydrosis created by the madefaction of humorous minimasque jannock janizary jokes that serenade for the gallivant of glory in the hidden thickets of plumage and plucky Herculean heroism against the hednons of attempted subversion that alluvions of hikkle and bilkey by machinules of masterate liturgy might always insulate from the purpresture of gerdoying gammerstang fulgurant percutient patibulary wormcasts deriding wertfrei and belonging to the maskirovka of the worsification of militarized envy seeking casualty where there is always repose and violence where there is always a sodality united for peaceful but precarious paciferation that averts the jimswingers of the jiboya of the jobbery of the jentacular threats of a braying menace of wrothing indolence centrobaric to all singularity and never consequent to any bleat of the pretense of temerity because of the viscidity never of a vaporetto of vacuefied stupefaction but always a beatific harmony of the serendipity of wordsmiths against the regal taunts of the skrimch of Potemkin hatred. We stagger in an astounding davering movement where delitescence is still a guarded murage of the wallbaggers that insulate the aristocracy from the thickets of the social mobility of macropicide against the yares of logodaedaly that vaunt God rather than vauntlay their enemies who dare with radical subversion in wretchocks of plumbism to deracinate the caterwauls of galeanthropy from their gradate punctatim attempts to create a serrated barrier of machairodont flarmeys of flargentum among the dense thickets of the yarzheit of apikoros giaours that fly-by-night in the boschveldt of borascos demanding a collective dementia in exchange for the machinules of radical harpricks bemoaned by the madefaction of gallantries of topgallant gambols rather than gambles with the safety and security of the broader world widely protected by never a vindictive word or never a sempervirent gambit for monopolylogues long ago assized and quantulated by putchers of gammon that they might perish in their assailed ratification of draconian flakes flapping their albatross wings in the deipotent glory of decrassification rather than galvanic attempts to revive the revenants of the heyday of gladiatorial spectacle to the demise of the wrox rather than the porcellanous attempts by coverthrow to demean or ratchet a grumbling mumpsimus of the fakest mittimus ever devised by the jemara of the moorganization of time for a peaceful coryphaeus to exhibit his magisterial eloquence on the platform of the barnstorm of eleutheropomania that always prattles in favor of the favor of delitescent mantissa and the guarded larithmics that corrugate in the favor of antipangamy that belongs to the hypestorm of never a capias but always an exonerated eutrapely of grandeur and hauteur without a hint of pompous chatoyant trucidation of lesser enemies and brittle redshort opportunism of delirifacient demur that becomes insulated from its own refrains that it provides impetus for liberation than a succinct meldometer of meleagrine and rhadamanthine physiognomancy that is too brazen in its weatherboards of wrathcheque to quivver in anything but the guarded tropism of those who understand the psychodynamic valor of exhibitionism in a jocular manner of regelation that the calcifuges never panic and the bonanzas never shrink in their blettonism of world triage for peaceful beatification that beams with the light of the prefulgent sun rather than heliofugal demiurges of recidivism potentiated by the aggravated grimace of gerdoying. The belletrist of the sondage of the morescos that vaunted themselves among the privileged because of the proband of forestalled generations of raillery rather than the rindstretch of the kobold subterfuge of armigerous enmity mobilized only in petty medicasters of iatramelia that the true enormity of congealed revalorization becomes that supernal and superlative beacon that prefigures all of destiny by the kymatology of the regnant resofincular retrocognitions of the phememes of intuitive plasmamium never paltry in paltripolitan values of a tottering demiurge that might be masticated in its semese because the density of the timocracy withstands all mettle and scores all veracity by its demarches for world harmony rather than its septiverous divisions of sciamachy waged against potentates because the giaours despise the valor of the monotroch of the rickety wroth of punctatim hortoriginality that never bleats or blemishes in histrionics but always values the foresight of the masterates to asseverate their hegemony rather than their servitude to the manifesto of the most radicalized epithets and rhubarbs of ruffianized faffle of the fangasts of the wormcast of the pollarchy becoming waterish in its insipid gambits to bowdlerize the world of polymathy because a polyhistor too intrepid to tread lightly and too kind to domineer with imperium might be counted not as a noxious nuisance of lability of phlogiston but always a zealous courtier of a renewal of generations for chrestomathy and the galvanization of religious zeal against the totemic racism of a tottering balkanization or the peregral attempts of the isorropic to imitate the ivoride of jealousy because of jalousie. May God bless our troops and insulate us from all disaster and may God provide the beneficent path for the multanimous love of fidelity of the phocine phons of kaleidophones of the miraculous kith of a loving matriotic nation united by the fervor of patriotism to serenade the world with beatific love rather than inseminate a radicalized potentiation of the insipid paraselenic violence of a world that should rollick and maffick in celebration of promethean insights rather than chirk a draconian destiny. Amen

Engaging is your talk, swagger, a stylish walk
You are a cut above others, a case of cheese and chalk
To hold your hand and stay fine, is not a cakewalk
Let me pinch, is it real you or I am into a sleepwalk

It does not exist now,
the conceited gait
of my fantasy.

It was not a cakewalk.
You may be coming-
for a daily ritual, but a
genuine thought suffers.

Tipping over, I will
say to me, accept the day
and become a recluse.

The violence
of the lips don't give a respite.
The glazed teeth under
the mask become red, spitting
the blood.

For whom you had
saved the moment of surrender?
The moon will move around
the planet, not to crash.

Let it stream
Be believable
be-come a beacon  an
What am I butta heathen

So to me **** talk is a cakewalk
I'll chalk it  always
Straight up Block it outta memry
Non-stop
Vestiges

I Never been so
Non- chalant
Null in void
So numb to it


But sometimes heaven hits

... And after a billion epiphanies
A weakened soul
Can be made redeemable
All on my own now