*** tiddy um,
    tiddy um,
    tiddy um tum tum.
My knees are loose-like, my feet want to sling their selves.
I feel like tickling you under the chin-honey-and a-asking: Why Does a Chicken Cross the Road?
When the hens are a-laying eggs, and the roosters pluck-pluck-put-akut and you-honey-put new potatoes and gravy on the table, and there ain't too much rain or too little:
        Say, why do I feel so gabby?
        Why do I want to holler all over the place?.    .    .
Do you remember I held empty hands to you
    and I said all is yours
    the handfuls of nothing?.    .    .
I ask you for white blossoms.
I bring a concertina after sunset under the apple trees.
I bring out "The Spanish Cavalier" and "In the Gloaming, O My Darling."

The orchard here is near and home-like.
The oats in the valley run a mile.
Between are the green and marching potato vines.
The lightning bugs go criss-cross carrying a zigzag of fire: the potato bugs are asleep under their stiff and yellow-striped wings: here romance stutters to the western stars, "Excuse ... me...".    .    .
Old foundations of rotten wood.
An old barn done-for and out of the wormholes ten-legged roaches shook up and scared by sunlight.
So a pickax digs a long tooth with a short memory.
Fire can not eat this ******* till it has lain in the sun..    .    .
The story lags.
The story has no connections.
The story is nothing but a lot of banjo plinka planka plunks.

The roan horse is young and will learn: the roan horse buckles into harness and feels the foam on the collar at the end of a haul: the roan horse points four legs to the sky and rolls in the red clover: the roan horse has a rusty jag of hair between the ears hanging to a white star between the eyes..    .    .
In Burlington long ago
And later again in Ashtabula
I said to myself:
  I wonder how far Ophelia went with Hamlet.
What else was there Shakespeare never told?
There must have been something.
If I go bugs I want to do it like Ophelia.
There was class to the way she went out of her head..    .    .
Does a famous poet eat watermelon?
Excuse me, ask me something easy.
I have seen farmhands with their faces in fried catfish on a Monday morning.

And the Japanese, two-legged like us,
The Japanese bring slices of watermelon into pictures.
The black seeds make oval polka dots on the pink meat.

Why do I always think of ******* and buck-and-wing dancing whenever I see watermelon?

Summer mornings on the docks I walk among bushel peach baskets piled ten feet high.
Summer mornings I smell new wood and the river wind along with peaches.
I listen to the steamboat whistle hong-honging, hong-honging across the town.
And once I saw a teameo straddling a street with a hayrack load of melons..    .    .
******* play banjos because they want to.
The explanation is easy.

It is the same as why people pay fifty cents for tickets to a policemen's masquerade ball or a grocers-and-butchers' picnic with a fat man's foot race.
It is the same as why boys buy a nickel's worth of peanuts and eat them and then buy another nickel's worth.
Newsboys shooting craps in a back alley have a fugitive understanding of the scientific principle involved.
The jockey in a yellow satin shirt and scarlet boots, riding a sorrel pony at the county fair, has a grasp of the theory.
It is the same as why boys go running lickety-split
away from a school-room geography lesson
in April when the crawfishes come out
and the young frogs are calling
and the pussywillows and the cat-tails
know something about geography themselves..    .    .
I ask you for white blossoms.
I offer you memories and people.
I offer you a fire zigzag over the green and marching vines.
I bring a concertina after supper under the home-like apple trees.
I make up songs about things to look at:
    potato blossoms in summer night mist filling the garden with white spots;
    a cavalryman's yellow silk handkerchief stuck in a flannel pocket over the left side of the shirt, over the ventricles of blood, over the pumps of the heart.

Bring a concertina after sunset under the apple trees.
Let romance stutter to the western stars, "Excuse ... me..."

Borodin's On the Steppes of Central Asia

Lost in a remote province of the mind
A youth attends to the cheap gramophone
Again: On the Steppes of Central Asia,
A recording by a mill town orchestra
Of no repute.  But it is magic still:
While washing his face and dressing for work
In a clean, pressed uniform of defeat,
For ten glorious minutes he is not
A function, a shop-soiled proletarian
Of no repute.  Beyond the landlord’s window,
Beyond the power lines and the ***-holed street,
He searches dawn’s horizons with wary eyes
For wild and wily Tartars, horsemen out
To blood the caravans for glory and gold.
A youth greets the day as he truly is:
A cavalryman, a soldier of the Czar,
Whose uniform is stained with victory.

Borodin’s  "On the Steppes of Central Asia"

Lost in a remote province of the mind
A youth attends to the cheap gramophone
Again: On the Steppes of Central Asia,
A recording by a mill town orchestra
Of no repute.  But it is magic still:
While washing his face and dressing for work
In a clean, pressed uniform of defeat,
For ten glorious minutes he is not
A function, a shop-soiled proletarian
Of no repute.  Beyond the landlord’s window,
Beyond the power lines and the ***-holed street,
He searches dawn’s horizons with wary eyes
For wild and wily Tartars, horsemen out
To blood the caravans for glory and gold.
A youth greets the day as he truly is:
A cavalryman, a soldier of the Czar,
Whose uniform is stained with victory.

Chapter VII
Sheesham's Staff  

Vernarth lies reclining on Sheesham's bunk beds of fire. Wood and Incense with ultra sensory olfactory powers, to design elemental and supernatural hearts, to house and be adaptable to hyper connectivity. In the Hindu religion, the akasha is the foundation and essence of all things in the material world; the first palpable and concrete material element created by the god Brahmá (air, fire, water, earth are the others). It is one of the classic elements of Hinduism, pañcha-majá-bhuta or ‘five great elements’; its main feature is sabda (sound). In Sanskrit this word means "space". In other Indian languages this word is conceptualized as "heaven".
It is the physical and eternal substance Akasha, of the ether that flows through the Akasha-Nautas, of each parapsychological regression. Vernarth takes a staff called "Sheesham's Cane", which he acquired while eager to deliver it to his beloved Tuscany in the Cathedral of Santa Maria dei Fiori, in one of his Regressive Lives.

They awaited him, stunned by the tyrannized force of the nobles in Florence, from which he was once again delayed by the barley and fatuous gods, close to Porcellino. He waited long hours for his beloved Madalena to come out of the Eucharistic ceremony. While he carried his staff in his right hand and a rectangular box for his hand on the left, inside he carried essences of potpourri of lavender and vellorita, a ring with amethyst stone covered by a concave gold bolus. In the supra-circular contour he wore medieval silver Etrurian ornaments from the Feast of Past Barley.

Vernarth is intubated with his therapist of the Veda typology, by the Samiama preferred to his meditation, concentration and Samadhi to merge with the universe and travel his Life until the end of Gaugamela (his most vigorous Regressive Life), while he was on his virtual journey Akashico walk the gods, disrupting his senses beyond all. Etrestles took a zither sounding the merits of the ear by prolonging his hearing of white cloaks and stereo silence. It leads them to the desired state of mind, such as the set of affects and emotions.

The fear of death is a somewhat natural concoction in the human being, although in too deep cases it constitutes a phobia (thanatophobia) that requires non-addictive treatment. But even when that phobia does not exist, but regression under hypnosis is sometimes traveling to the near and distant point of the Sun on its elliptical, almost getting lost in our galaxy, like the earth in its aphelion.
So in this way our great hero continues to travel in eternity, he never dies! For his life is a multi-dimensional regressive, to eternally navigate and ride through the scrolls of history with Alexander Magnus. Both sitting in Lotus on the Gordian Knot.


Past life experiences can be attributed to genetic inheritance, Akashic records, universal consciousness, telepathy, fantasies, or memories of readings or movies. As his mother Luccica brought, conceiving your son, very young of only 22 years, supposedly dying in a vascular accident, a fact that breaks the chain of genetic descent and allows us to suppose that there would be extra-cerebral memory. But it is reborn in Florence, Macedonia and Sudpichi and Gaugamela.

Names, places and dates can help to discern if it is a fantasy or a real experience. To accept it as such, it is recommended to check at least six matching data, such as names, dates, country, language, customs, weather, clothing, etc ... Many people ignored the dates or the name of the place where they lived. This makes it very difficult to verify such data, except in very few cases, so the lack of historical data does not necessarily constitute proof that they are frauds or fantasies of the hypnotized person. But this unforgettable feat of 331 b.C, is a date where Bacchus swallowed the history of the Universe at once. There is nothing left here, not to remember and much less to re-fiddle the citations of the Gods exhuming the brief metaphysical times that scent their intuitions.

Names: Vernarth Prince of Sudpichi, of the Horcondising Empire, of the Talamite Celestial Hymn.
Date: in the year of one of October 331 B.C.
Coordinates: 36 ° 21′36 ″ N, 43 ° 15′0 ″ E In decimal 36.36 °, 43.25 °
Country: Chile - Ancient Persia - Babylon
Language: Mapudungun, Hellenic and Persian.
Customs: Military consequence, phalanx, cavalry, archers and siege weapons such as Sarisa among others.
Climate: Autumn, dry and temperate climate. Little to hide.
Clothing: Exomis and war costumes. Agema elite guards, shields, Phrygian line helmets and multiple infantry shells.

Alexander Commanders:
Vernarth: First Commander of Heavy, Light and Thessalonian Infantry. Others, Hephaestion, Crater, Parmenio, Ptolemy, Perdiccas, Antígono, Clito, Nearchus, Seleuco, Ariston, Simias, Ceno, Ariston, Glaucias, Sopolis.

Thus in the post-equinox period of 331 B.C. Vernarth, he proclaimed himself a faithful Macedonian soldier, in the barbarian fields in Tel Gomel. And its circular deployment is destined to its epic rooted in this feat of being a unique part and valued by his therapist Walekira, attending to all the symptoms of this displacement due to a renowned parapsychological regression, which he never thought he would reach his origins as a Macedonian militia.

Wlakiria playing a flute from the elder ensemble, he readied himself for the ****** lines to keep him tied to his choir choir of the Bumodos. He would begin with the last sessions to supply them with the liquids through his veins, to take him to the advanced snatched bastions, where he lay upright, but with his head on the backwash of his headaches and touch-ups of approach to the lagoon of the Five Golden Swans that they agreed to his graft as the whipping commander of the Achaemenids.

Ellipses Gaugamela / Vernarth approaches:

Darius confused with the strength of the forces that came from Vernarth, resorted in the same way as in Issos, he has no other choice but to flee, causing the disbandment of his own by the lacerating wounds caused by the branches of Sauco, which were the branches of his arms numb, but guillotining. Every time a cavalryman turned to see who was following him, a sword appeared cutting their heads. . The Macedonian victory at Gaugamela is final. Alejandro is at the peak of his power looking from the sky. Now he has the clear path to advance toward the very heart of his enemy, the weakened Persian Empire.

After Gaugamela, Babylon was easily subdued. In Persia the cities of Susa, Persepolis, where Alexander burned down the Royal Palace and Pasargada succumbed one after another. In the spring of 330 B.C., Alexander resumed his march after Darius to Media. Upon reaching Ecbatana, Darius had slipped away again, taking refuge in Bactriana. Vernarth was surprised by the great general with a monumental average Sarisa spear, piercing a hundred soldiers with various spears, which one by one gently added to his hands stuffing them beyond his hands.

Alejandro Magnus said to him: beyond your strength there will be a day of knowing how to be a politician or a general to dominate the fear of the brave who shout with fear and not the cowards who shout with Courage!

Etrestles says: Although in the time I have lived in Messolonghi, I managed to be close to Scipio, as an official of the Roman State, I must compare him to your Son of Zeus, who undoubtedly at different times with a century of difference from General Scipio caudillo turned almost into a Great one, like Alexander…. I have to allow myself to simulate you in the parallel time that passes.

Replicates Vernarth: Yes Brother of good luck! The territories will be massacred. And there is no time or brave dimension to protect them. Scipio, undoubtedly comes from Messolonghi (Koumeterium Messolonghi / blessed Holy field of all heroes of all dimensions of time on earth and No), to warn us about the excesses that spray tiredness to those who are not to sleep, hunger and thirst to those who do not consume. But bravery to those who rise from the field in by the wheatfield shepherds irrigated by young sorceresses to raise Hellenic morale, from Medea perhaps to break the verb poetic with the Staff of Sheesham, to shake the earth and awaken those who need other sorceresses to awaken their consciousness and senses.

Alejandro Magnus, Etrestles and Vernarth; the three are each taken from the wood, which is the verse that supports them embedded. The infinity is painted lapis lazuli, the three look at each other and expand the chandeliers that hold them under the sky with Orion room light, whose golden ratio, as a result of the three numbers joined, the equation will tend to reflect the union of three kingdoms of divine reign.

"This communion is merged for itself for everything that is not concrete in a vague world"

To be continued… / under edition

Borodin: On the Steppes of Central Asia

Lost in a remote province of the mind
A youth attends to the cheap gramophone
Again: On the Steppes of Central Asia,
A recording by a mill town orchestra
Of no repute.  But it is magic still:

While washing his face and dressing for work
In a clean, pressed uniform of defeat,
For ten glorious minutes he is not
A function, a shop-soiled proletarian
Of no repute.  Beyond the landlord’s window,

Beyond the power lines and the ***-holed street,
He searches dawn’s horizons with wary eyes
For wild and wily Tartars, horsemen out
To blood the caravans for glory and gold.
A youth greets the day as he truly is:

A cavalryman, a soldier of the Czar,
Whose uniform is glorious with victory.

Lost in a remote province of the mind
A youth attends to the cheap gramophone
Again: On the Steppes of Central Asia,
A recording by a mill town orchestra
Of no repute.  But it is magic still:
While washing his face and dressing for work
In a clean, pressed uniform of defeat,
For ten glorious minutes he is not
A function, a shop-soiled proletarian
Of no repute.  Beyond the landlord’s window,
Beyond the power lines and the ***-holed street,
He searches dawn’s horizons with wary eyes
For wild and wily Tartars, horsemen out
To blood the caravans for glory and gold.
A youth greets the day as he truly is:
A cavalryman, a soldier of the Czar,
Whose uniform is bright with victory.