"chemists" poems
You'll never believe this
but,
I drank from God's flask the other day.
Yeah,
Convinced that it was half full
Of conscientiousness.
Of hope, or passion, or honesty,
or somethingworthgivingashitabout.
For it had once appeared to many,
A beautiful and grand canteen,
Forged of liquid silver.
And as I allowed the contents to inwardly surge,
I realized that it had plunged into the same carnal vessel
From whence it came,
And the lining of my body had been holding the ancient linings of other bodies,
Reincarnate.
Romantic,
If that's the way you wanna slice it.
But
There is a recipe for such rapture,
And it's been written on pages much less holy than the Bible--
On the coffee stained clipboards of chemists
And the meticulous manuscripts of mathematicians.
It's made out of the same **** that everything else is made of:
Out of the same force that makes you float when you sit in the dead sea,
Out of your body's sweat after a hard day's work,
Out of the blood in your veins.
Salt.
All of it, everything, everyone,
Salt.
Dissolved, crystallized, harvested, ingested,
Redissolved, recrystallized, and the cycle repeated.
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 11:31 AM UTC
For every action
There is an opposite, equal
Reaction.
That's what the chemists say,
But I promise I'm no scientist
And I, too, believe in this.
Every time you win,
Someone else loses.
Every new child brought into this world,
Another one exits.
And every angel that whispers encouragements,
A devil tells you even in hell you couldn't do it.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
why do i have to be a dog for my cats?
the male one is teasing my
neighbour's dog...
the dog starts barking,
doesn't stop...
so i start barking...
a dismembered word
rough with a range of
neared onomatopoeias...
i hate barking, it never sounds
like a dog... more like a
dinosaur... Ra! (a name for a roar),
a tongue's trill at the bookie's in-between...
i hate barking...
or like at the chemists, an old man and me,
i had the seat, asked if he wanted it,
he said no,
we were both waiting for a prescription...
'well, if you're not taking it
i'll stand with you in show of solidarity'
my arms folded like a pigeon or a crow
strutting... well, if he ain't going to sit
i'm not going to sit either....
there you go, solidarity, **** Wałensa...
mushy mushy overgrown moustache nozzle...
brr brr... do the motorboat of oral ***
like you're expressing shrivelling watching
the northern lights! yep, got you...
selfie taken... now make a pose for
Lactose Falls of the waterfalls from your
eyeing ******* yep... that's a happy couple...
take two! no, you ******* go off and wait
in the tourists' queue
like the other 100 ******* did politely.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC
bewilderment, many more women than men, and still so few a man committing polygamy, it's almost like the mirroring of so many men committing suicide; the loss of the practice of polygamy leaves so many men committing suicide prematurely, leaving so many women alive to give the abnormal ratio without an actual diseased cause of death of men, hence the statistics.
just when you start enjoying it,
you stop,
there are so many going to restaurants,
but you're just a turkey
readied for stuffing,
you gorge on it
like traffic in Hinduism with
the holy cow that's a pedestrian
in England...
chomp and chop the food
like a toilet blockage,
you eat it without a palette,
no cheese and crackers after,
no candlelight, no wine,
it's a strange looking necessity,
esp. once digested;
it's as necessary as death for your
engagement: you have to eat,
you have to die...
i eat to add to the insomnia cure
because i should but can't pay alimony
payments because an engagement is
not lawfully enforced...
chemists are natural bachelors,
i told you, but you wouldn't
understand...
you were the ******* of youth,
the girl aged thirteen prone to suicide
and still the many numbers of men
committing to the act of suicide...
the law is in your favour, since you're
the incubator of it, the womb,
any rich **** can provide the Semitic root
of it all, cutting the excess skin of genitalia
of one *** whether ******** or ********
you think you won't get anti-ontological
behaviour? if what was intended was intended
and you play and revise the **** thing,
do you think the answering reason will
not look ridiculous enough to not attract ridicule
like a cow and flies, ready to spawn maggots
in the wet eye sockets?
you must be joking then!
monotheism was born in the halo
of revising mankind, abraham's snipping
isaac's "excess" skin...
it took place there... but revising a second
time with female circumcision...
well, revising humanity like that
gave us all the possible abominations accessible...
how can you teach the origin of man
with that ugly aesthetic of being furry
and a blunted snout of the gorilla
and not wonder why revising man
to an over-eager representation of engaging in ***
not combine into a holocaust...
you steal the sheath of the sword from the sword,
you'll find it constantly warring,
because that's what circumcision did,
it stole the sheath of the sword...
and no, this isn't crude imagery, ******
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 8:28 PM UTC
A new search is ongoing,
with Israeli chemists on a trek;
they seek find the color of God,
which was formerly called tekhelet.
Is its significance a harbinger
of future Messianic times?
Can the rabbis or scientists
decipher this dividing line?
It’s an enigmatic shade of blue
that represents God’s infinity
caught between the color spectrum
of visible light and invisibility.
Some experts believe the source,
(though the origin is unknown),
may be the secretive creatures
of antiquity called… the hillazon.
Based on some vague descriptions,
its body resembles the ocean;
can Levitical trade secrets be exposed
with the clarity of resolution?
This divine azure is a key color,
of the high priest’s holy vestments;
for this serves as a reminder to keep
and honor God’s law and commandments.
Allow the penetrating light of God
to serve as a transforming catalyst;
though this mystery of life is unfinished,
know that faith is not an accident.
Open my eyes Lord, that I may see
the royal blue of Your sea
and observe Your sea of the sky,
that depicts the colored backdrop
of the holy throne belonging to Adonai.
.
.
.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Num 15:38-39 and an episode of the Naked Archaeologist;
as part of the dye making process, direct sunlight is
required and serves as a catalyst to modify the color
pigment at the atomic level.
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
My teeth are smiling back at me
From a glass beside the bed
I wonder "Do they look that bad"
"When they're positioned in my head?"
They looked all kind of cloudy
***** brown, and green
I think I need to change the way
I make my teeth get clean
Right now I use polident
To make my choppers shine
But, if this is the way that they turn out
I'm embarrassed that they're mine
I took them out and washed them off
I stuck them in a glass of bleach
I thought, "This will make them whitey white"
The colours will all leech
Out of my clean choppers
And will brighten up my smile
Then you'll see me from afar
Well, at least a half a mile
I left them for two hours
and they came out brown and green
I thought, they look no better now
They look totally obscene
I even took to painting them
A glorious shade of white
I left them on my workbench
To dry and harden overnight
They still look brown and greeny
Like they were buried in the yard
I swear, I've never had a thing
That's made me work so hard
I cannot put them in my mouth
with out cleaning off the crud
It's looks like I am smiling
With a mouth that's full of mud
I took a pad of wire wool
And scrubbed them like you do
They didn't get much brighter
But, now at least...they're blue
I went down to the chemists
To get something for my teeth
I needed something powerful
To relieve me of my grief
The chemist said "please shut your mouth"
"You're scaring all who passes"
"Your teeth are oh so snowy white"
"The dirt is on your glasses!!"
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 11:05 AM UTC
a conscious thought stated:
don't write another love poem
but his words are vanilla to my ears
the smoothest silk texture
spun from his consonants and vowels
running from his lips and melting over my flesh
you can see where i get distracted...
because infatuation and intimacy intertwine
spinning a tangled web
woven from the strongest thread
and your fingers are musicians magic
strumming on my heartstrings
playing chords on my heart
carrying a tune that would make Celine Dion quiver.
it made me quiver
but there aren't six degrees of separation
from lust to love
there's one degree
but a thousand steps in between
the chemists couldn't explain
why our chemistry combined
in such an intricate way
and all the experiments were inconclusive
because only we are the mad scientists behind our insanity
and while the scientists tinkered
the mathematicians drew up an equation
insert me and you
into x and y
but x and y don't define hidden variables
that even we had to search to find
the eraser's been rubbed raw
against the paper with a hole in the center
they'll never solve their invented equation
because mathematics aren't involved
just a finely designed road map
tracing your veins and mine
from fingertip to fingertip
eye to eye
an artists divine sight
i'll be the paint to your brush
your lily pads to Monet
if your words are paint
my body's a blank canvas
i'm a writer
but even i'm struggling to find the words
that may as well be hidden in catacombs
but we don't need Edgar Allen Poe
to quoth the raven "nevermore"
nevermore shall i search for this unicorn of words
mythical in that they don't exist and yet somehow you do
we'll resurrect Charles Dickens
because he's the only man who would even make an attempt
but even his hands are trembling
with the pressure mounting of a lost word and a quivering pen
thunk
as we watched him dissolve into the pen and ink that created him
this conscious thought beckoned forward in my head
do not write another love poem just yet
for who will scribe the words to fit our facets
when the skins withered, wrinkled and dry
but our hands still twine like grape vines
maybe by then they'll have written another edition of the dictionary
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
America, you don’t need us anymore
so we’re going on vacation.
You’ve got religion to whisper in your ear
and sing you to sleep at night,
and culture of homogeneity to get you up
and going on cold Monday mornings, coffee in hand.
You’ve got plastic prophesies to keep you alive
and sick on medicines from unrhyming
peddlers of purpose.
You’ve got assumptions and science to teach the kids now
so long as the chemists abandon their really significant digits!
You’ve got calculus problems and practical things to scribble
on the back of the wornout canvasses of Monet and the recycled
papyrus of Parmenides—nothing’s changed.
You don’t need metaphorical ice cream.
You don’t need symbolism of green ideas.
You don’t need moonlight anymore.
You don’t need breezes on summer afternoons
unless they’re part of a lemonade ad.
You don’t need stars.
You don’t need hope or purpose or prosperity
that can come from the meaningless lines
of poems.
You don’t need us anymore, so we’re leaving.
That’s it.
We’re done.
Goodbye, America. It’s been
fun.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
No one understands me.
I'm an intricate, unsolvable maze.
I'm a grain of sand lost among the shadows.
A particle caught up in the haze.
No one understands me.
I'm rocket science to a child.
a rubiks cube with ten colors.
The leader of parliament in the wild.
No one understands me.
I'm undefined by the laws of physics.
I'm illegible handwriting.
Undecomoposable by chemists.
No one understands me.
except the words on the page.
the thoughts of the mind.
The music on the stage.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
china: never put all your eggs into one basket. true that, we gave more riches to china than anyone could have thought, riches that aren't gold or diamonds or champagne bottles or restaurants with £500 a head meals or a grand fashion industry with designer labels... we gave them the single most important of the riches: work.
odd, isn't it, back then it was work,
but the steel industry
is collapsing in the west with
cheap chinese steel, cheaper even
than the indian steel...
manufacturing jobs are gone,
obesity is on the rise because we have
no ****** outlets, only the hamster
palaces of treadmills and weights...
and that's counter-productive it would seem...
all the menial jobs were exported and
in came bureaucratic jobs and fancy ponce
jobs of the office dealing with branding
and aesthetics... making a brand of yourself,
getting paid a million quid to post a video
of eating a tablespoon of cinnamon or
a whole jar of peanut butter...
the jobs that created the gigantic market
place by feminism... i know women did the heavy
duty stuff like making shells...
but that was during world war ii...
i know they're capable... but why suddenly
clap and applaud where there are female
engineers on building sites... but no female
bricklayers? such a successful theory?
women soldiers but no female bricklayers?!
might as well say that i'm the broken outdated
robot in the dungeons of a ***** bank.
- everything now has a sticker: made in china...
made in china... vietnam... etc.;
obviously i'm stating the obvious -
but there's a slight warning floating about
the place... erziehung macht frei (education
sets you free) does not mean: go to university
get a degree... it's the persistence of education,
education becomes like working,
there's no achievement basis...
good example, i got a degree, but **** all work
in my desired education training -
they're not even employing people
with chemistry degrees in places where,
technically, chemists are intended to be...
poetry became the only option, the last
resort... not for therapeutic reasons either.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 11:40 AM UTC
i wasn't satisfied with the cartesian
cogito ergo sum...
it's not that i couldn't stomach it,
it was just: not enough?
people claim that maxim to be the source
of all subjectivity,
and there's nothing objective about
it.
all this modern talk of subject vs. object,
i had to employ a θήσαύρύς.
i needed a square... a solomon's star,
two squares encompassed against each other,
nothing akin to the star of david...
i mean solomon's star, of two squares
imposed on each other, layered
so you get an oκτάγωνον oktágōnon
oh **** a macron over an omicron = an omega!
oh k'tah goo non...
wait wait... i was going to write something
concrete, and yes, it was based on solomon's star...
6 things -
cogito sum
subjectivity objectivity king david (6)
reflexive reflective
thinking = subjectivity = the reflective
thinking = subjectivity = the reflexive
thinking = objectivity = the reflective
thinking = objectivity = the reflexive king solomon (8)
being = subjectivity = the reflective
being = subjectivity = the reflexive
being = objectivity = the reflective
being = objectivity = the reflexive
(alt. given the atheistic scissors of definite / indefinite articles
of the / a a reflex, a reflection)
what this means is, what's generally thought of as
the tetragrammaton, but it's not four letters,
it's the interpolation of the four main faculties,
that are now seen as tripling up, or call them: cubed;
a lament configuration representation.
thinking is subjective in that it is also reflective
(the narcissus bias)
thinking is subjective in that it is also reflexive
(i need a shave)
thinking is objective in that it is also reflective
(i am ageing)
thinking is objective in that it is also reflexive
(i'll just stop looking into a mirror)...
dear apologies for the geometry of the arrangement
of words, i know you'd love to see a tartan pattern
of interchange, but this **** seems rigid, in the way
that i wrote it... i couldn't find a way to write a b a b
as stated, it only came out as a a b b,
or a b c a b c rather a a b b c c.
but do you see what is even more fascinating than numbers?
the arithmetic symbols... arithmetic symbols
are very much akin to diacritical symbols...
i write an over-simplification of a concept using =,
and then all these conjunctional words pop up!
and yes, in terms of citing heidegger as opposed to
descartes there's a great disparity between
being and i am -
self-evident, being = the sum, a total, Σ,
while i am? it's a unitary representation of the total (sum / sigma)
of the possible mode of being -
it's also called ego interference / pronoun inteference
in the conceptualisation of the cascade that's ergo
into the basin that's dasein.
what philosophy call metaphysics?
linguistics call orthography...
what chemists call para- positioning on
a benzene ring;
or what non-chemists call the paranormal.
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 1:31 PM UTC
Every morning
As the Alarm clock
Slowly brings
The classical music Station on
And I wake from
Vivid dreams
Of places I have never been
Nor seen
I drink my coffee and await
My daily dispensation
My script
My Medication
To help fight my Illnesses
Allegedly at least
That's what the medical
People say
And I never argue
I don't know how
But the walk
The walk to the chemists
It humiliates me
Makes me feel like a criminal
Or a ****** in need of a fix
A poacher in search of a doe
The walk in rain and shine
It lessens me
Step by step
Until I recieve
My daily dispensation
And I walk those same steps back
On old, old streets, with people
In early morning fluster
Creating a new day
While mine as a hopless case
is ending
In a roundabout way
And I bring my daily dispensation
Home, and what happens then?
All I know is that my hands stop
Shivering
And I am able to stand up
And feel as a living person
Every day,
It is a tiresome thing
Had I known
Such pain was possible
I should think
I would have stayed in
The womb
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
they say the only art worthwhile
is art done on the passive stance
where once art claimed equality
among professions, now art
the unemployed brick-layering
employment of those who lied
watching paint dry has become
devastatingly akin to a shark in
cubic plastic trapped yet readied
for a bite... and that's art,
as are the professions otherwise
ennobled yet by degrading art
debased to be equally overcome
by robotics: care sooth the 'mind the gap' lady?
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 9:38 PM UTC
/ there's currently a historic heat-wave
happening in england...
indistinguishable
from, the perfumery akin to the:
inside(s) (of) a barkingside 25m
pool with a diving tower...
part of the higher education
of chemists
belongs to sniffing around,
esp. after having synthesißed
esters...
one one...
chlorine...
within the framework
of the current english heat-wave?
i'm picking up a scent of
chlorine...
it's a variant of
public swimming pools -
which utiliße chlorine
for minority report
advance: on employing hygiene...
but in the air?
i can sniff it out...
it has transpired, translated for me
to pick it up...
there's chlorine in the air,
notably, i'm guessing,
from the raised temp.,
you would know,
if you've been to a public swimming pool
that uses oxidised water
as a chlorine alternative -
O subscript 3,
the clarity of the air,
simultanoeusly begging a comparison
with the air inside a 4°C fridge environment...
well, there wouldn't be any "conspiracy"
surrounding the distinguishable signature
of a chanel no. 5 perfume...
so... i can tell you a scent of sulphur
is sulphur...
hence... hell yawned over england,
and from its gob, came the scent
of chlorine...
the second component of identifying
hell -
sulphur being the first...
chlorine? just shy of first, coming
in second.
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 10:27 AM UTC
and i thought the slavs had a bad taste in music,
what with new Greek alphabetic suggesting
that Russians were natural chemists...
but seeking Karaoke incorporated into western
culture as the accepted Pearl Harbour,
i'm having second thoughts on Latin being
the alphabet dissociated from names and associated
to pitches as the proponent of music, given
Gangman Style - man in the high castle
(philip k. dick's novel, blade runner guy)
is a reality, 1984 is in the making while we ensure
everyone is docile; the day the Vatican abandoned
its practice of castrato singing as anti-anal:
don't know which is worse, getting anally penetrated
or having my ******** snipped; i guess
of the two wearing a niqab is better:
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
my father says i tell him bedtime stories,
which technically is true.
tucked under blankets with his ancient lamp,
emitting soft light around the room.
perched on my mother's half,
slivers of a hobby within my brain,
transferring thoughts into words.
with heavy eyes, he listens.
discussing contents of products,
the beauty industry, and my favorite podcast.
telling of fashion designers, cosmetic chemists,
iconic red soles, and what he calls "face goo."
turning the analysis within my mind into words;
rambling, letting tension in my brain drain.
we balance each other out;
puts him to sleep, gives me an outlet.
i tell my father bedtime stories,
all fresh to him, while i've been obsessed.
my wildest dreams I long to be a part of,
while he drifts into his.
Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 9:01 PM UTC
The Doped Olympics
Why don’t they simply create a new branch
And call it the Doped Olympics?
By the laws of semantics
It soon would come into language, legitimized:
Youth forgets past.
Soon the word would have lost its original shame,
While the name of the game
Would be guilt-free and blame-free,
And those who would qualify
Could have drug deliverance, muscles defined, bodies divine.
If they dropped dead at forty
At least they’d have entertained millions,
Fulfilled their ambitions,
Made lots of folk rich
And set records untold.
Let those few or many spend hours in training;
Let chemists develop concoctions so new
That the pole-vaulter flies,
The sprinter’s a jaguar,
The shot put is sent into orbits of space,
The long jumper jumps twenty meters
While men become fierce
And the women grow beards,
Which gives all of the chemists new projects to work on.
A yes to the ***** Doped Games.
The Doped Olympics12.2. 2004 revised 1.27.2016re-revised 7.25.2016
Our Times, Our Culture II;
Arlene Corwin
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
this is going to be an onomatopoeia, it has to be, and nothing else;
because it has to be so... and nothing else?
imagine writing a word in italic -
surely you'd realise to indicate a comma somewhere
in that stylicism?
it's the opposite of any known suffix -ology -
a bit like fashion, but indeed, more discreet
when it comes to: but so! the necessary!
but if i were to write a word in italics, for emphasis,
i'd have to include a punctuation mark
to take a breather and pause, to add the intended
emphasis... but obviously i would do what chemists
do, reversing what the mathematicians do...
i wouldn't subscript the "attention-deficit-disorder"
i'd launch the ****** into "outer space"!
italic' - yep... the comma is on the ceiling...
eddie izzard... the mouse the cat the monkey...
under the table, on the chair... on a branch...
and this really does tie into the practice of the diacritical
approach... sorry... i can't do the dialectical condescending
approach... it's been done...
it's done... it's been dusted... it's silverware
that's been polished over 2000 ******* times!
but let's just say you want emphasis....
so you use the mighty tool of skewed press...
post-truth... that sort of ****
you write...
em... the broom' is hiding
in the cupboard!
see that"? the comma just jumped to the ceiling!
because you can just make emphasis and expect
people to punctuate it correctly...
just like you can't
say, in english, that a word ending with -s
can have another s added to it, to indicate the ******
obvious...
e.g. snakes' alt. snakes's says?
no! snakes'sez... fez! fez! that funny egyptian
head-gear under the ottomans'
governship.
just so you know... the media
just writes: snakes's - i.e. it belongs to a lot
of snakes... whatever that is.
by now i'm thinking of the aesthetic:
the comma has to drop, it has to drop pretending
it's a scared cat clinging to a chandelier...
so to indicate a plural ownership
i'd just write snakes,
the comma just dropped...
and there was no talk of ᛋᛋ...
and you thought the gender
neutral pronoun "debate" was bad...
how about i tell you how to write,
the most, perfect' onomatopoeia....
what bird? the ****** cuckoo!
'ere goes:
kú kūł ká
that acute á? just a missing exclamation mark... !
the ł? 2 omicrons and a dabble u short...
of a w.
looks like it's a double v... but never mind.
but diacritical markings are literally punctuation marks
for syllable ingestion...
i can't believe i'm repeating this,
but then i compensate that idea with: ink, coal,
me, coalminer.... this... coal mining; repeat repeat repeat.
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 10:37 AM UTC
Discussion ends, and we talk on:
to clarify lecture, thereon
concerning life - the rules by which we play
as clumsy wise with books and blades,
chemists cutting to remake
the human form, and change, reshape
their lives with information, application
of our minds, the drugs concocted
via our thoughts. This the power -
and its light we cannot help but hope to wield,
for who declines the hands that look for aid,
to bring the flush to lives that fade?
Discussion ends, and we talk on:
I with slow mind, I ask thereon
for I am slow, but eager so
he answers, words like hands that move
competent in their purpose, and kind
to funnel knowledge to an empty mind.
Discussion ends, and we talk on
Still spoke of drugs and blood, thereon:
Influx flow in, efflux flow out,
the drug, first raw, march'd through a route
of enzymes who transform its love
for water -- made it dissolve
like salt in ***** strained away
with all your waste. Their hands are good,
those of your doctor, liver, blood.
The mathematics predict efflux
flow out -- flow in
influx dictate that concentration drug in blood
will rise - molarity
increased - at rate unchanged if not
that substrate concentration guides
the liver's rate:
a second order interaction,
see, reaction rate increases
until the speed
flow in/the rate
flow out is one, the same, and thus the blood's
molarity will change no more
-- this he taught me, as we spoke,
and if my mind wandered too far,
as it sometimes does, his hands
reached out - the type
articulate in words or digits,
which, touching, reawakened mine
to further sculpt my hands refined.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 9:05 PM UTC
*a patient walks into a doctor's office
and says:
- doctor, doctor, i'm suffering
from diabolical laughter!
doctor replies:
- just keep on laughing.*
they're really truly atheists on
an atomic level,
the more they try to live outside
of nature, and glorify it,
the more damnable they come:
put them peering into a microscope
or a telescope the more
their audacity builds up,
but when an earthquake,
but when an earthquake,
when a storm, when a hurricane,
all the intellectuals disperse,
the pathetic state of drowning,
the pathetic state of any form of suffering,
you'll only find atheistic audacity
among biologists,
chemists and physicists the middle-men
of argumentation,
biology appeals to the general public,
as expressed by confusion in the ***** region
of things... transgender this, transgender that,
the ploy of the heterosexual:
it's only natural via a surrogate mother,
and a human heart grown in a pig's body...
while chemists construct the next ester
of shampoo or fishy bacon, or the next
biggie boom boom,
while physicists are out there with the quote:
now i'm become death, the destroyer of worlds,
but can't stop the moon in its tract...
or bother with the near apparent
biggie boom boom of saltpetre, sulphur and charcoal,
they make the explosions too big...
too much of a Hiroshima, too much of a Nagasaki...
Hollywood is still dreaming of the Manhattan
Project, it's constantly terrorising america...
Hollywood is constantly out on a Jihad to
culture-corrupt with a constant sense of paranoia...
it's always destroying cities...
big **** monsters or some odd german accented
'simon says, simon says...'
but they changed location, now double-decker
buses are exploding on parliament bridge...
so the kids know of it, a day late, a day after
the explosion on twitter.
or as i once said, when that famous tsunami hit
japan... 'where was the army dropping
bombs on the wave to disperse it
and disallow its movement onto the mainland?
they could have bombed that wave into oblivion...
instead some other army, in some other
country decided it required a tsunami of blood
to pour into other countries via the streams
of journalism.'
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 3:19 AM UTC
The Doped Olympics
Why don’t they simply create a new branch
And call it the Doped Olympics?
By the laws of semantics
It soon would come into the language, legitimized:
Youth forgets past.
Soon the word would have lost its original shame,
While the name of the game
Would be guilt-free and blame-free
Free, and those who would qualify
Could have drug freedom, build muscles defined,
And have bodies divine.
If they dropped dead at forty
At least they’d have entertained millions,
Fulfilled their ambitions,
Made lots of folk rich
And set records untold.
Let those few or those many spend hours in training;
Let chemists develop concoctions so new
That the pole-vaulter flies,
And the sprinter’s a jaguar,
The shot put is sent into orbits of space,
The long jumper jumps twenty meters
While men become fierce
And the women grow beards,
Which gives all of the chemists new projects to work on.
A yes to the ***** Doped Games.
The Doped Olympics12.2. 2004 revised 1.27.2016
Our Times, Our Culture II;
Arlene Corwin
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 11:02 AM UTC
the Übermensch anomaly was short-lived
in Europe, it was never going to be an
idea with a survival instinct for longevity
in Europe, just like Copernicus became
defamed by Galileo...
the Übermensch idea was prescribed to America,
what with their Superman and Batman,
and Spiderman... Nietzsche didn't
include America for a reason, you could
speak of Emerson as the zenith of American
intellectual output as the reason,
but that's hardly a reason...
tourists to the Caribbean will know,
Americans think they're super-human...
i hate the American accent, it's like a mosquito
buzzing in my ear, i just call them
the spaghetti swindlers of tongue, gluttonous
harp players... and because Nietzsche didn't
mention America, America is his most fertile
and therefore most arable landmass...
i mean... Nietzsche reached pop culture status,
just because he didn't mention American culture
in his writing... and that's how the Americans
see themselves, the righteous inheritors of
the post-Nazi mindset... Übermensch Staaten Amerika...
hence the reason they're on the gold medal leader boards
at the Olympics... i.e. if those ******* aren't doped
then i'm doped...
not doping athletes makes chemists redundant,
dope the whole lot of them, let's make it fair.
yes, i know it should have been written as staaten,
but i like my diacritical arithmetic, and given the
umlaut, i count that as a hidden extra a... so from
staaten into stäten;
oh yeah... and **** your "perfect" teeth;
or the Penguin cover for Philip K. Dick's
man in the high castle, the red & white stripes
with 50 swastikas.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 8:21 PM UTC
*we just provide the bang, you provide the number of bangs as necessary to craft an execution of poetic extinction via ideology of supposed "survival" with executing the myth of Dr. Faust, because too ridiculous, which begs the question: so Darwin and the Galapagos turtles isn't a good joke akin to some pervert inspecting butterflies who turned out to be a ********** - because of that cherry skin buttocks?*
all this LGBT thing going on
doesn't appeal to me to
reproduce, i just can't be bothered to get married,
i can't be bothered feeding
heterosexual labour
with the end product being higher prostitution
of surrogate mothers,
you have the power to grow ***** into
foetuses and designer babies, i'm not
necessary given this passive-peace;
i'm liberal up to a point,
after that something horrid takes over...
leave me alone, get the ***** bank to be completely activated
and surrogate mothers the new prostitutes accomplish
a new stratum of earning and spending:
heterosexuality is dead...
or if alive it's what enslaves...
i'm no longer the necessary the body to provide
choice, science over-powered man,
not unlike man over-powering nature
akin to china and india,
but over-powering nature unable
to out-number nature's example of ant of termite;
oh indeed the power, and family as pathological...
enslaving nature limits our growth,
liberating nature dis-inhibits a care to gain power over
when still the earthquake and tornado and hurricane...
science is merely millimetre and a gram!
why take faith in itemisation of such nature
when satiated with dinner you take the dog for a walk
and still look into the distance without clear
dissection - because you do not dissect a living thing,
and when science dissects, it presuppose the thing
to be dead, whether dead or alive, but in chemistry
and physics the thing is either too ridiculous to be alive '
or too grand to be alive -
yet the popularisation of a biological theory
is like the birds & the bees, and the hives, and the candlestick
wax made from pollen of what could have been honey...
biologists are the nazis among scientists,
because, i mean, they're not exactly surgeons,
or medical students, are they? they're about as useful
as psychologists when you have historians
and literature students to make the healthier point of huh?
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 9:38 PM UTC