''O your eyes painted a thousand pictures of long journeys, rolling hills, running streams, and rugged coastlines.
O how i miss walking on that road down the hills to the sea''

You used to walk by the river o my handsome rover.
Beautiful and green your eyes looked into mine, barely sober.
My men had all gone home, from Malin to Dursley they called out your name.
You would always find your way, drunk you walked so lame.

These spring leaves, caught by the wind flying as far as the ocean.
Kilkenny, as far as the wind might take you i sang.
I sang my lovely Father's song so sad.
A beautiful man, along the road by the river he used to pad.

I pledged you my only heart
A vow of love to never part
My friend, my heart, my love
I promised you peace and joy

I spend most of my dreams now
Covering the miles between us
Out of this apartment
Which is too big to fit your absence in
Away from this city
Through the droughts of this land
Over powdered mountain tops
Along coastlines
Across borders
Right into vineyards and vast meadows
Past forests and their lakes
Crossing city after city
Untill I find myself in yours
Over bridges
Into that street
The stairs up
The hall in
Until I finally rest my hand on that doorknob
And feel you just before I wake

We smashed through
plates of glass
on our way back down
from China.
We swam through
oceans of plastic bags
only to reach
the oily surface
of the Pacific's
deep heart of blue.
We flew through
red clouds of smoke,
feeling higher
with each breath
we took; to only find our
coastlines and insides
filled with factory stacks
of mobile empires,
run by thieves and crooks.

We thought we thought
the craziest thought.

We should have known better
than to blame our neighbor.

I slept like a log, inspite of the pains from my blistered feet. Harry woke me at six thirty. "Time for breakfast, better jump to it or i'll tickle your feet."  The thought of that was enough to set me in motion. After breakfast we assembled for role call beside the waiting coaches. Then we boarded, and left the camp heading for the airfield. Every one was expecting to fly from RAF Lyneham, we had heard that we would be flying in the new Dehavilland Comet, the first passenger jet. It was not to to be. The comet had crashed into the sea, there were no survivors!
Instead of that, we were driven to a remote airfield in Wiltshire, I believe it was called Cliff Pypard,  there we boarded an ageing hastings transport and set off into the wide blue yonder heading on a more southerly bearing than one would expect for a flight to Germany.
I tried to keep an eye on our progress by following coastlines, it was difficult, clouds obscured much of the coast line. I had the definite feeling that we were travelling in a South Easterly direction, and I asked one of the aircrew about it. "Don't worry, I expect we'll take a turn to the north soon." A little later, I suddenly realized that we were flying over the Med- Germany via the Med, never in this world!!
We ate chicken wings lettuce and bread for lunch, still flying at a steady one hundred and eighty miles an hour at mid day, below us dessert! We were all confused. Where on earth were we going?
Our first stop was at a place called Idris, it was an airstrip in the Libyan desert. There was nothing there only tents, and a place to refuel. I was a squalid stinking dump, and that was all. We left early the following morning after a laughable breakfast that no one ate. Our ext stop was a similar one but even more so, It was a place alled Habanya, I think, I went to use one of the two toilet's and discovered that the horrible brown stains in the toilets were actually enormous heaving masses of huge cockroaches, I went out into the desert insted. when I got back to our tent I was told off. "this place is crawling with snakes, don't stray about!" we didn't need telling twice! The tents were just as bad, infested with huge spiders, no one slept. We were glad to leave it.

I've come so close to death that I could feel the air escaping my body
I could feel my memories slip and the essence of myself being taken away
I could feel my skin leave my bones and I could see dust and mold reside in my rib cage
So I know what I want from life
I want an off the beaten path kind of life
Where I see new horizons and discover peaks and valleys that turn my heart into a wanderer
I want new boarders and coastlines that create tattoos along my mind covering every inch of all the bad feelings that wanted to take me away
I want a life that has no real destination but is solely focused on the journey
I want a northern lights and blue waters kind of life
A Big Ben and a land down under kind of life
Where the sky is literally my limit and I manage to explore every inch of the clouds
Mistakes are meant to be made but living a life after being so close to death is not a mistake and I will not choose ordinary
I will choose endless amounts of stars and flowing rivers
I will choose mountains and open fields
Anything that makes me proud to say that I chose life instead of what was easier
I can't go back there
Being so close to death makes me appreciate a good life
And I will explore all that it has to offer
Because I chose to live
And that is exactly what I'm going to do

Well you see 5 million years ago the galactic economy collapsed
Seeing that custom built planets
Were something of a luxury commodity...

Doing the coastlines was always my favorite
lol

They run up a flag on the roadside.
It is dusted and covered in tar,
But the message still comes across
And it reads without words.

The women and children went first.
The men were quick and fierce,
And the kind hearted were always the first to die.

Plumes of ash and smoke were pillars in the skyline
And it was truth once the birds stopped flying,
That every living thing had died that day.
The rest was existence.

It was an obvious ending.
Played out by the thousands in their minds,
But only a few through their tongues
And so it was said without words.

The lunatics and charlatans came first.
Most didn’t follow them
And they were right not to.

They tied in the imminent and the absurd
Until it was impossible to separate the two.
They spoke of truths understood entirely
But ridiculed all the same.

By the time sanity caught up it was too late.
The trees had lost their branches in a cancer,
Now just charred cigarette stumps
And they died without words.

The trees and the vegetation came first.
But now they grew only in pockets
And even then still scorched by the sun.

And so now the mother was barren.
Her coastlines bruised and skyline broken,
Twisted metal and scorched Earth,
No longer a parent but a victim.

Only the dead and the shadows are living now.
They are dusted and covered in tar,
Their stomachs have long since ceased yowling,
And they starve without words.

The humans were gone first.
Until all that was left was everything grey
And the minions of Orcus.

They are wrought like humans,
But their eyes are feral and their teeth sharpened.
The taste of blood is in their own,
Animal, Angel or Human regardless.

A fire burns and men sit in circles.
What is left of them at least.
They scrape the flesh off the bone
And they live without words.

The bullets were used first.
Cheap and *****, but it got the job done.
Straight through the eye socket.

No moment for practice,
They honed their knife skills on passers-by
Or on the weak and dying amongst them.
The old men bled like raisins.

Old trucks were gutted motels.
Seats with the padding ripped out
And a nest of hornets in the back
And they slept without words.

The sound of rain on metal came first.
And it took the dead into dreams
Of what they once were, if ever there was.

Sounds of traffic outside windows
And the smell of coffee in the streets.
The familiar jingle on the radio
Reminds them of when money bought food.

They dream of whiskey and women.
They sleep in tight groups, breath muted and docile
And think of primal pleasures.
And they dream without words.

Their memories died first.
Until they could not see faces anymore,
Save for the pictures in their wallets.

It was only in the brief interludes,
A moment alone; ******* on a tree
Or clutching their *****
That they felt entirely human again.

Other than that, they were less than air.
It suited them. Everything grey.
Everything grey or transparent,
And they killed without words.

It was language that died first.
A world of communication but no understanding,
Noise but no substance.

Until now there is nothing left but ‘it’
And whatever there is to get there.
For a knife through skin and empty lungs
Is only ****** if you call it so.

And so they run up a flag on the roadside.
It is a beacon for all that are left.
A sign for the gullible pilgrims
And they roast without words.

It was the end that came first.
In the moment that man descended the trees,
And used it for firewood.

Still in our childhood, we had our chance
But we traded it for what felt good.
Would I have it any other way?
It would make no difference now, what I want.

The shadows will limp to their deaths,
Stubbornly chained to the Earth.
And hell comes not in the struggle
But in the potential of man not realised.

He's the son of the wind and the ocean
I'm the son of the mountains and the trees
The water is his element and i, the earth
His cool demeanor made the rock beneath me
Melt becoming quicksand
******* me into the cold, dark ground below
When he comes close,
Everything feels right
When he touches my skin,
Tremors appear like the remnants of earthquakes
When he says my name,
The mountains recede,
And the birds sing brighter
But the geography does not align
Alas, the mountains will never move
To meet the ocean
Only the wind from coastlines
Can meet with the canopies of the trees
But, the waters cannot flood the summit
and, thus, we can never be.

I have been waking to a mouth of feathers,
grinding teeth in my sleep
and dreaming of Luxembourg.

Giants surround me and call me 'friend'.
I can't see the stars
for their mobile phones,

for their fat wallets and career plans.
I have no coastlines to wander;
only old paths I can cross once again.

I have learned to speak in a thousand tongues
and yet still have little to offer.
Let me buy you a drink,

let me adjust awkwardly in your gaze.
I have seen too many wars
pass over my head,

and now I am looking for love once again.

The waves came, but never retreated

The silence grew, but never ceased

The sky blackened, but never lit

The signs of the world unraveling pierced straight through every mind,

The proof was given to mankind

The sun slipped
The ice sunk
The trees scarce
The deserts abundant
The ground quaked
The houses crumpled

The People Raged
Water departed
Food Rotten
Animals forgotten
Hopes gone

The Tide Has Turned
And people begin to regret, more and more.
People begin to see that there is so much more in life than the challenge of living.
That you have to show your humanity by creating, not destroying
You have to plant the tree, not demolish the forest

And Humanity Dreamt
Most could not imagine waking up
Others never wanted the dream to end
Some needed more convincing
And they dreamt
They closed their eyes and ventured through the world
Every era, every time
They saw creations being built, and then destroyed
New York replaced with swaying forests, rippling lakes, and expanding coastlines
They saw the Great Wall take itself down, replaced by untouched mountainous peaks with extraordinary views.
The Eiffel Tower crumpled, the city unfolding at its sides.
Everything from the Seine River to the towering Cathedrals turned into hills of vast green

They saw the beauty of the world, being untouched
But then they saw what was to come, what was created by powers unimaginable by man, and destroyed by its inhabitants
They saw things they could never forget
They saw things they could never imagine
They saw things that changed everything they thought they were
They saw things that not only answered their fears, but became reality
And the torture of the thought that this had started with the human race, and ended with the human race became apparent

It was only the truth,
That was what seamed to scare them the most

Everything was becoming nothing
Somewhere was becoming nowhere
And it was too late
Nothing could be done
The earth was slowly changing
And everything that was once living was slowly becoming only memory
And it was too late
Nothing could be done

But still,
They slept
And were swept into even deeper sleep
Taken across mountains,
Rivers,
Forests,
Deserts,
Oceans
All familiar signs of life for them
And once again, it changed

Back to The landscape of vast earth being covered in un-touched soil
The large lakes spreading their water into streams
branching left and right
  The jungles teaming with life so full, noises came
in every direction
And then they came to The first sign of humanity
  The first woman bearing a child,
  The first man showing a smile
But then they saw their familiar way of living change
Into what all the powers of human race intended their creations to do

To Live With All Living

Great murky tides so viciously flailed,
Clawing and gnawing at the grey rugged shore,
Washing up remnants of an ill-fated sail,
The coastline now littered with ruin and gore.

Bloated dead mariners scattered about,
Their ribcages open and nested by gulls,
Pecking at entrails as blood gently spouts,
Staining with crimson the ship's shattered hull.

The billows shall swallow the barnacled bones,
Crushing them into Poseidon's cursed sand,
Creating new coastlines in foggy unknowns,
Waiting for other doomed sailors to land.

Photographs painted cities proud
Shimmering puddles rain soaked crowd
Ventures forth silent stillness called
Colours chasing rainbows showers fold

Remembered images spider cracks in glass
Fortune cast like driftwood
from the past
Cluttered highways peak hour homes
Willow bending shore breaks free

Past times echoing forgotten tunes
As coastlines etched in ancient runes
Belonging cost to all event
Twirling treetops shaped in winds lament

Grey haired monks by habit hide
Distant echoes calmed by dawns first light
Passing aimlessly through dark of night
Called by wonders seeking to complete
Again the reflections drawn from campfires heat

Architects of destiny call to speak
Places dawned life giving feat
Dew draped windows speak of inner heat
Tear shaped raindrops rainbows complete

(GE2014) Reserved

Photographs painted cities proud
Shimmering puddles rain soaked crowd
Ventures forth silent stillness called
Colours chasing rainbows showers fold

Remembered images spider cracks in glass
Fortune cast like driftwood
from the past
Cluttered highways peak hour homes
Willow bending shore breaks free

Past times echoing forgotten tunes
As coastlines etched in ancient runes
Belonging cost to all event
Twirling treetops shaped in winds lament

Grey haired monks by habit hide
Distant echoes calmed by dawns first light
Passing aimlessly through dark of night
Called by wonders seeking to complete
Again the reflections drawn from campfires heat

Architects of destiny call to speak
Places dawned life giving feat
Dew draped windows speak of inner heat
Tear shaped raindrops rainbows complete

(GE2014) (C) Reserved

If I could I would write letters to the wind and ask for lessons on how to blow you away

If I could I would take a star out of the sky and put it in a ring and ask you to be it’s replacement in my life

If I could I would keep you between my second and my fourth rib, so they will tell you they’ve missed you.

The first time I saw you, I smiled with my mouth open to let go of the crickets I buried in my voice box so I could say hello

How else can I explain to you that our stories are God written guitar solos to the keys of our DNA, and I’m more electric and you’re more acoustic.

On some days you look like there are lingering pieces of a boombox etched in the framework of your spine. In simple terms your body speaks volumes.

On other days you feel like there are too many fault lines on the rail track of your spine

Those are the days I want to tell you I’m a pretty good conductor

Your voice sounds like an unfinished love song stuck in the throat of an ’80s jazz musician and I’m more of a hip-hop kind of guy, but I would make kissing you the perfect symphony.

I’m more like the odd boulder on a sandy beach and you're the entire ocean but I've drawn coastlines on the chambers of my heart

With you I could build sand castles in hourglasses, cos I wouldn’t feel time pass.

If I could I would write this poem on the wings of a butterfly and say to you “Here I think this belongs to you, I found it in my belly”

Awwww, man, I'm flippin', news reports got me trippin'
My mind's busy racin' foot's tappin, I'm pacin'
They say, and I trust, in a few decades time,
That the icecaps will melt and engulf the coastlines, of
New York and LA, and New Hampshire and Maine, and
New Orleans will be but a massive flood plane,
It's a tad bit insane and alarming to say,
That it's been brought about, by our self obsessed ways,
They say India just had the hottest of days,
Ever seen in its history, see, it's a mystery,
Why we don't act, we have limited time, and
The scientists warn us, as temperatures climb,
While republican senators watch and insist,
It's a "liberal myth" and it doesn't exist,
How I wish I could choke 'em and watch 'em turn blue,
Like the color they hate! It just cannot be true,
We're destroying the means for our species' survival,
Proposals for action all dead on arrival,
Cause Exxon and Shell simply MUST have their profits,
So they buy the elections, and silence the prophets,
They lobby with hundreds of millions in bribes, and
Darken the futures of billions of lives,
Revolt now becomes an imperative need,
We must favor each other, instead of their greed,
We must march in the streets, upon Capitol Hill,
Or on parliament buildings, until we instill,
The fear of the ones who demand something new,
Because, we are the many, and they are the few.

She draws black wings to her eyes
in a green-wash reflection, light
cascading through the shutters
of the ceiling fan, whilst red lips
rehearse a smile for her lover.

He will hold her like a wallet as
they pay their way through town.
It has been months since she felt
human touch, mammalian warmth,
or whispers exchanged across the pillow.

His eyes are on the screen as she
undresses and then falls beneath
his weight on the mattress. An empty
thud, a hollow sound, as his night is
given purpose, and then falls to sleep again.

She lies awake and wonders where
her night went. There was laughter
across the table, drinks stirred with straws,
and UFOs painting pictures in the sky.
The sea roared in the distance like

a passing train, and so there must be
an escape to a far-off land for her
to start again. Start again beyond
waistlines, over coastlines, and all ties
to employment. To start again

with a half-naked lover, who will
watch as the wind kicks up her hair;
as her skin freckles once more
in the sun.

romeo,

you’re gone.

not from this world, no. you didn’t end up taking your life, lying next to what you believed was my lifeless body, only for me to gain consciousness too late, realizing the horrors of what you’ve done with no other choice but to follow through. it was quite an unexpected contrast to this ill-fated romance’s historically known ending.
if anything, we did end up together. somehow, we made it work, swearing on pinky promises that we always would on the roof under skies plagued with stars. with a few snaps of our fingers, we made fate bend to our own will. we believed we ruled fate’s coastlines as we ransacked abandoned buildings spray-painting quotes from our favorite books and lines from the songs we listened and danced mindlessly to on nights we’d chase down bottles with kisses frantic, laughing maniacally, imagining the apocalypse, us two being the last of earth’s inhabitants. as we shared candy corn roaming the carnival grounds, atop the ferris wheel right in time for the sunset’s tail, hands laced with the cheap rings from the marriage booth where we exchanged our hypothetical vows. as we scoured thrift shop racks eager to dress up for the halloween parties our friends threw, seeking the silence of the dim upstairs hallways and bedrooms, making out, costumes half undone while downstairs the crowd got trashed. as we picked items from the aisle on an unplanned grocery run, another batch of your burned meal that i’d roll my eyes at which you’d laugh, volunteering to order take outs in surrender. as we strolled the streets by the lunar tides, enveloped by silence, the comforting kind, the one that talked of what’s lost with the last of our heartbeats.
we were able to get past tragedy embedded in veins of young star-crossed lovers, an inescapable curse. we broke the curse all those times we laid on forest floors drizzled with the dead bodies of stars turning this supposedly sad tale the right side up. we were renegades rejoicing in the mayhem they caused all the nights they sneaked out-even though it wasn’t needed. we didn’t have to be in hiding-our families were surprisingly okay with us together.
our middle fingers were saluted to fate’s face-at least that’s how it felt. we thought we were on top of the world, atop that hill, the city twinkling below us like fairy lights in your bedroom. all our worries below, far behind. funny how all along fate was the one laughing, sneering at our faces. fate never sided with us, it was just waiting for the right moment to show what’s it got up its sleeves, to strike with excruciating tragedy.
and i guess here it is, the tragedy. just not how it’s depicted in history books but nevertheless it occurred like the breath i didn’t know i was holding. maybe in this life fate tried to be kind, but not quite, giving us a softer kind of heartbreak, melodramatic still, just one with no deaths. perhaps it got tired of eavesdropping all the times we used to talk about heaven and hell and dying and how we passed them off like the mere places we got our scars from. we weren’t ever scared of it, a complete opposite of how we were scared of losing the other. or i guess how i was.

i can’t quite comprehend how i faced that fear for you, how i let you go after we sat in your secondhand toyota like how we normally did because it was our safe place to talk. though that the conversation ran sans our usual order of french press and cappuccino and it ran without pleasantries. we talked about us and how you couldn’t see ‘us’ in the future anymore. i don’t know where we started to fall apart neither the how’s or the why’s. i don’t know how i managed to abide by your wish, your selfish plea. all i knew was that if letting you go was what’s going to make you happy then i wasn’t going to stand in the way of your happiness.
so yes, you’re gone but not dead, neither of us is dead. you’re just off to a place miles away from here, from me. you didn’t say where you’re headed but i saw the plane ticket on the nightstand the night before you left.
maybe love’s one huge tragedy once exhausted out. it’s been days and my mind’s in circles more than ever, digging inescapable trenches of this train wreck you’ve forged out of me. and i’m not sure, if this is me or the bitterness speaking, but i think i would’ve preferred our supposed ending. dying side by side.

but don’t mind that, i truly wish you well. i hope you find whatever it is when your feet touch the ground be it a reason to live or some girl named rosaline.

still yours,
juliet

There's a hint of melancholy left in my breath,
a hint of cold in the summer

It's staples of nourishment that has lighted
pathways to salvation,
lighted pathways to safety and a distance from chaos
places like this on the horizon and a day's sail further
exist in a iridescent dream in my recollection

Islands of landmass proportions that rival the wonder of planetary revelations and celestial events that streak through the sky,
float among the ocean currents along side the ring of fire

The children of the Pacific remember these fiya skies and
praise those little portions of stardust lingering on the breeze
that create it.

The saline air collects in my lungs
beautiful coastlines with saltwater clouds 100 meters above the cliffs are home to those that ride on air gusts
they nest with their young hidden in caves a ways above the pristine and rugged rock face
the sun hits them quietly to warm and she leaves them the cooler at dusk on the ridge

Children of the Pacific all know this to be truth,
we established this fact through generations of life

It is how we ensure our survival as a people,
It is community collected lessons that we feed on and digest daily, to share this with the world is our privilege and responsibility,
one that we take seriously...

As Romans before them, they built the city
upward—layer upon layer as the polar
caps receded layer by layer—preserving
what they could, if someday the waters may
recede back into the lost polar ice
restoring the coastlines long inundated.

Golden sand tickling your toes
Pebbles gleaming, glistening, slushing
When the tide comes  back  to shore.
Sand dunes hiding wildlife,
Multitudes of migratory birds,
Safely returning every year to
This beautiful, marshy paradise.
Skies so orange, pink and red,
An artists palette of natural art
Greet you at sunrise and sunset.
*****, kippers, cod and plaice
Shrimps, cockles and whelks,
Mushy, minty peas and chips,
The show at the end of the pier.
The lifeboats and their hardy crew
Risking their lives to save others,
When visitors run into trouble
At the mercy of the cold North Sea.
Crumbling coastlines, cliff walks
And nature reserves full of the
Scent of wild garlic and herbs,
Norfolk lavender. Steam engines,
Fishing boats, river boats,
Paddling boats and cycles
Take you on journeys
Around the Broads or
Past the famous Castles.
Tigers and leopards peer
Through the bars of their
Zoo homes by the sea.
Easterly winds that bite your
Fingers as they whistle and
Howl through the City.
Guest houses closed for
The winter as you stroll
The lonely promenades
Breathing in the air.
Queen Bodicea,  Normans,
Vikings and Romans all
Marched through this
Historical  landscape
And yet we remain
Stalwart and strong
Proud of our heritage,
Our roots,  our birthplace
There's only one place
Better than Norfolk,
And that's the
Beautiful Ozarks.

the gold ring and chain piercing my
nostril is tied to Your starry reins
I stand quite diaphanous and transparent
in the shivering frost-bitten scrutiny
as inanimate and suspended
as the fossilized rocks
and vacant shells entombed beneath
my bare feet
this loneliness that climbs, scrambles
mindless ivy,
up and down forlorn ivory towers
lost lighthouses clinging to abandoned
coastlines where the sea foams at the mouth
and maya lurks like rodents and beachcombers
littering with her perishable bag of goodies
where is my conch?
my heart hurts
am I too deaf ...too far gone...
to hear Your mighty blast?

Chapter ***
Second Hegira to Patmos
Part VIII - Conclusion of Judah

What can be perceived by the Universe of Judah would be in a Universal Eye of photochemistry, within the phosphorescence’s of the spectrum of the Jaffa roadstead, which magnetized the electricity of the visible spray, within the visible field of the photon in the same bay. ,  as the responsible elemental particle guarantor of the quantum manifestations of the electromagnetic phenomenon. Carrying gamma-ray electromagnetic radiation over the entire Jaffa atmosphere, X-rays, ultraviolet light, visible light, infrared light, microwaves and radio waves, causing the ellipsis of Radio Moscow on October 29, 1929, right there appearing in the future to the present before the Hegira to Patmos.


Ellipsis Radio Moscow 1929 - Parapsychological Radial Regression:

“Radio Moscow goes on the air on October 29, 1929. And this first foreign language broadcast would be in Greek, to be heard by everyone in Jaffa. The Radio Moscow bulletins expressed great unease at the recent rise to power of Adolf ****** in Germany during the 1930s. It was considered an unintelligible and visionary daphnomancy rummage, predicting the persecution of the Hebrews and the extermination of themselves, for which San John the Apostle immediately tunes in common with Vernarth, the instant he was shaken by this radio wave from number twenty-nine of the Jaffa exit edict. The visible fantasy of this would disconform the audio listeners, towards the behavior of certain swings and intermittences that made the natural light of Jaffa intermingled with luminescence’s, with waves and photons in presumptuous duality to dominate Vernarth's behavior when invaded by this flash of prophetic invasion. The spheres of observation of the Apostle made it faster to climb and try to sustain this invasive radial wave that crossed time thousands of years, from the year 1929 to the year 165 AD. C. approximately that it traveled with a great infinite wave speed at a great percentage of microseconds. All this information alerted the native son of Capernaum, worrying too much about this ethno-political situation. The microwave refracted, undergoing a change in direction that collided with the ship, in its floating basement portion, due to the fact that this wave propagated at different speeds, considering that the medium in which they were moving was clearly made of wood, but propelled by a large vehicle of transmission through the winding water up to the massive hull. Doing and scheming what would make them move immediately to go to Cyprus; Limassol. The speed of the radial wave was stationary on the canopy and that of the hull by the chromatics of the water that lightened its refraction, through the facets of the canopy and canopy, bizarrely acting as an overheated exponential concave-angle drive motor.

An expeditious quarrelsome radial wave appears in Vernarth's tongue:

Vernarth says: “Anti-Semitism is a matter of the profiteer of slavery and insubstantial ethnic resources, not allowing the advancement of millennial and primordial civil social immigrations to be related, which migrate to the socio-political statuses, already allowed since their arrival in the Rhineland during the Roman Empire. The Jewish community thrived until the end of the 11th century. Starting with the First Crusade, it had to go through a long stormy period, marked by massacres, accusations of ritual crimes, various extortions and expulsions. Their legal status was degraded and Jews were prohibited from exercising most of the trades. In the 18th century, philosophers of the Enlightenment, such as Moses Mendelssohn, were outraged by this miserable condition and launched a campaign of denunciation. However, the path that led to Emancipation was long and lasted nearly a century, after which the Jewish community was integrated into society. Its assimilation allowed an economic and intellectual success that aroused suspicion in certain sectors, also giving rise to anti-Semitism. The coming to power of Adolf ****** in 1933 put Jews on the fringes of German society. The persecutions were followed by deportation and then extermination during World War II. After the war, the Jewish community is slowly rebuilding thanks to the support of the German federal government”

The Apostle heard this with the speed of becoming a steely carnation, breaking the prominence that would be caused by intervening with other civilizations with invigorated gardens, to predominate in the existence of the world as a chosen people, and having to submit to all kinds of propagandist ministerial exactions. , limiting the legitimate gaps to prosper beyond the Mosaic acquired teachings, in some dense field devoid of different disintegrations of divine rabbi illumination, either in a straight line or the same line of the One-dimensional Beams of Ein Kerem's geometry. This time enchanted with lamb's blood coined on its cornices, to sprout them by all those who had to endure the enigma of departure towards the rectilinear desert, as a property of the radio waves exhibited here as a dogmatic whole, dusting in the geometric regime, which testifies to a all of "May the Savior's Tunic shake all the structures of critical and political thought and race brilliance." Producing objective intellectual blood,  which would be integrated into the Social Christian party in Germany in 1930. But every elementary thesis, it would promulgate the emphasis on the centrality of social democracy, of bringing a great work to Patmos, of dividing itself by time when crossing the line of the time, providing the solid One-dimensional Beams of Joshua in Kafersesuh, for the protectorate of the holocaust and sacrifice, to introduce the premises of emancipation and abolition of the subterfuge of marginalized social fields, devoid of the inter-ethnic social guarantee and of the Semitic rooted heel. This natural property is of exception of the race of San Juan Apóstol; son of Zebedeo, consisting of bringing this to the most informative substantiality, to Patmos to protect them organized.

From this dialectical propagation great shadows emerged, interposing opacities that showed many Hebrews falling into concentration camps and at the exact moments of expropriation of their real estate. Naked bodies can be seen only with dark shadows, with small hints of imperturbability on their split faces, remaining in the gloom of the Conviction, with some photos of their children in relative proximity to the deadly impression of last rales and their undermined, perishable pointed expressions , appearing in the rictus of their wives, with narrow condemnatory anguish falling on them from the same Cell of the stormy Éscaton, which transcended under Semitic history; the resurrection of the dead, divine judgment, heaven and eternal happiness with God or damnation and hell. Here a perfect archetypal case of the disconcerting radial wave overturning novelty and satisfaction before the curiosity of the listeners, but it was a "very new Revelation at the same time, being objectivity for the cell of San Juan and for the immanent protectorate", which designates the dimension mundane and temporal opposed to transcendence.   Because many Christians have become unable to conceive of the "other world" as a consistent, real reality, and have transferred to this world the hope of a full and happy life. In this "immanentization" both evangelical prosperity theologies, which see the Christian faith as the means to achieve material well-being, as well as Catholic liberation theologies, for which faith should lead the believer to fight for autonomy and development of the world's indigent populations oppressed by powerful multinationals and their collaborators.
Vernarth pulls a blind when they were already walking on the magnetized sea capering, without feeling how the sea was besieging them,… saying himself: “I keep looking through the hole of my ignorance, and I can see in monochrome the dictators displaying their diffraction placards lights, key to ethnic oppression "in black and white" and the veers going through the gap in the paths of the Hebrews with their suitcases and belongings, lost and surrendering to the laments united to the Messiah. In combined holistic, centered on the measure of a third screen and taking place in alternate light and dark bands, in the Lepanto ship when everyone found out widely about the radial phenomenon in non-transistorized tubes, in a frank romance with the old ways of their customs. .

End Ellipsis Radial Radio Moscow

The phenomenon of interferences of a natural nature continues, making their broken hearts happy, they all sang Christian songs that made them put vertical lines on their faces, between both refined cheeks. Leaving them incidence of light of fasting, to signal like thrones of lighthouses that illuminate the skies of the seas of the Messiah, putting before them to millions of years light by the side that now they could see him.

The angles are scattered, and fall on the light of the Messiah, of the Our Father in twilights, falling on the others like the same conclusive Gethsemane leaf from the Olive Tree Bern. As the light flowed on the matter that protected the ship to Limassol, industrial energy was constituted in all the directions of the surface optics, generating reflections in the weak interferences that oscillated as an immobile remnant of the radio waves still active. This phenomenon made Brisehal appear from the bottom of the sea; the giant of Dasht-e-Lut, who was approaching to protect Vernarth and the Hex Birthright. Generating a dynamic global heterogeneous internal light in the navigation radius of the ship, from a more parsimonious speed to a more frustrated relative, to try to synchronize the flashes of the Xifos sword of Vertnath Hoplite, which allowed it to use it as a sextant, to arrive at the destination Cypriot. In this emptiness of energy by another replaced, an imprint of the same emptiness arises with lengths of movement of submarine waves, caused by the giant Brisehal to displace them in washings of the Adonis in accordance with the Sword of his master Vernarth Ephebo. Dispersing evaporated drops of the Dasth-e-Lut  desert that remained in the sewage areas of his ears, polarizing the defensive crystals of the hyper active and current environment of the flagellated Phalangists in Gaugamela, which still twisted on the diaphanous and immaterial earth that followed in heated conflict, until the coexistence of the oppressor ceases it. The worlds rotated parallel continue to each other not rotated, being disturbed, in another dimension mediated by the warned consciousness, which lacks all neutral rationality. It would only be attempts to pierce through the crystals of Faith ..., dominating salute projectiles of malevolent brotherhood, plunged into a maximum intensity of crystalloid breaking and rupture, which emanates from the lens of the Messiah, in the angles of underwater darkness.

All this atmosphere is self-absorbed, leaving  tele-transferred divine rabbi light, in stored energy reaction levels, whose capacity would exceed one billion cubic meters due to the breakdown between the chemical bonds caused in radiant energy, dissociating molecules by the effect of sublime light from grave sounds of immanence, and being redefined as the interaction between one or more mass cells of light against a nomadic target molecule. Also suitable for the extreme radicalization suffered by marine plants, which also sailed expelled from Jaffa's radical disturbed seabed.

Hellenic Existential Hypnosis

Reaching the central memory of the Aegean Sea between the parallels 36-38 of latitude and meridians 24-26 of longitude, belonging to the periphery of the South Aegean, an abduction of the amnesic trace of the Alexandrian magnetic period occurs, which made them realize, how they had deviated from the destination of Limassol-Cyprus, having to turn a few degrees to redirect to Limassol. This was exercised by the subjugated Alexandrian period, which in its immanent chronology sought to remake an existentialist caste, which lowered the chronological limits due to the depressive effect of the aura, after the death of its sister Cleopatra. This whitish and courteous barrier of Zeus, invaded them not auditing to govern the schizophrenic ship, having to retrace the course to retro of the Cyclades. Sovereignly Vernarth takes the helm with great Greek breath, creating shields of redemption in the arts and sciences of the Hetairoi  aristocracy, under meso-urban science-politics, replaced by the Christian religion, making the Hellenic language a potential romance Aramaic, to overcome the existentialism of the hypnotizing dream dream; of a silly banquet served by the hordes on all the slopes that transported them between an enigmatic underworld, of panhellenic language, and with the reculturation of the ephemeral crossed lines that subtracted them from their dramas of troubled consciences, depriving them of the neuromotor of the main return value for the origin of the reconquest of the Tracóntero in Limassol.

This Hypnosis, brought consequences of the Sects called Diádocos ‘successors’, of the old generals of Alexander the Great and the children of the generals (called epigones) that to his unexpected death of Alexander the Great in 323 a. They divided their empire, disputing power and hegemony over their colleagues with various pacts and six wars that lasted twenty years. Then a political system was established that until the beginning of the Roman Empire in the eastern Mediterranean at the beginning of the second century BC. Before this contingency, Vernarth resorts to Hypnos and one of the thousand children he had with Pasitea, who urged them to the cohesion of this Hellenic Hypnosis, making quantitatively the immortality of the image of Alexander the Great, to bring him to each of the former faithful commanders, thus refounding Vernarth his Hellenistic encyclical, for the purpose of escorting them to Limassol, and protecting the families and infants who were in their puberty in sleeping Greece, after great war campaigns and abandoned conventions, as an example of the snowy lineage in their Mother Olimpia, and his Sister Thessalonica and children waiting for him passionately. And also in the Sudpichi Empire - Chile, Luccica with the court of her familiar stoic resistance, ingesting the opiates until her Vernarth takes her in his arms, of her own imaginative swamp lagoon.

The disintegration of Macedonia and Greece into sub regions, catapulted again the appearance of Clovis who says ..., the river Lete in the underworld, dissolve your memories, and clean your mind permanently. That's the branch of a poplar tree from the underworld, from my father Hypnos. "Lethe is not the place you want to go swimming ... but if you change the helm for your proud mind." This achieves that one of the sons, among thousands of Pasitea, committed himself to Clovis, to dispel this existentialist contingency, vindicating the plea, of family reunion and imperishable Hellenic constituent prosapia, under the hypnotic and hegemonic phenomenon that made the banners and panoplies burnish in Greece, Macedonia and Asia Minor. As a subsidiary exception they will satisfy, which was reissued by Ptolemy, one of Alexander's childhood companions, of whom some authors venture to say that he was an illegitimate son of Philip II. With intelligence he quickly seized Egypt and hastened to create an enduring state, declining to imperial ambitions that he considered unrealistic. He was one of the main opponents of the imperial cause, thus becoming one of the founders of the Hellenistic world. Unusually, the commanders of Alexander before his excessive dipsomania of hierarchical power and glory, demystified Hetairoi's harangue, generating in it a Hypnotic counter conception, making these sedative efforts to delegate the religious north Dei ..., which had only known how to redirect itself later in the classical arching Gaugamela, of his great Holplita Commander Vernarth.

This grayish super mass of uncontrolled winds and increased rays, spat out idolatrous proto forms in the same Hellenistic family, whose postulate was to multiply the family over its geopolitical dominations in other nations, unifying them as a family geo clan, rather than in the seas, in which they do not the waters-lands are divided, rather they unite the hydro-parental ethical and cultural resources of the world that are a concomitant part with "The devouring cyclone of mythological dignitary entities, and other lines that flee from the proper chronogram of historicity and its reconstructive past-present ”. Square meters of great Cyclops slaps that were floating in the air, inspired Vernarth to revive the green grass of the sea, like plankton that made a compulsive propensity to exalt Chloe’s presence; that being an Epi Phantom, it always sparkled among the nebulosity as a reservoir of Universal Consciousness, gaining the Hellenic consciousness with a black bandage over its eyes, so as not to stain more outbreaks of the chlorophyll and photochemical green mass of the phenomenon, accumulating only the electrogenic beasts of Cyclops that they had to burn on the rays and unbridled embers of dissident light, to leave in some memorable way, or beg some Sanctus, to do his will prowling in the acquisition of the square meters of the tiny, almost unidentifiable beasts, that appeared simulating to the slimy green water of the River Lethe in the contracted underworld.

The existential holistic in the ship produced depressive lags, lack of self-esteem and factors of ego loss, therefore each one who pointed with his index, relaxed from some silos in the hands of opiates, which would denigrate the dream in those who tried to flee of his own collective weeds ..., shying away from himself, stagnating and freezing in stretches of dreams of great loneliness and permanent fantasy ..., and what the extravagant hypnosis sought to occupy in them with its decrees of mortality, in an adulterated afterlife, in some signs of benevolent and reactive psychic alertness. When the soft glow of the same flash was shown on the faces of Alexander the Great and Vernarth, in the six wars that took place with the Diádocos without sparkles, for twenty years ..., just in twenty seconds, would Alexander the Great appear, on the deck of the ship of Lepanto, dressed in a crimson red garb, covering his Hellenic silhouette, down to his figurative half torso. From here, he urged them to culminate their hypnosis in a deep world in an unbreathable statue of colloquial rhapsody ..., watch out for this ..., everything continues normally, and Vernarth leaves the helm to honor him with a hoplite Khaire and as a fellow Christian Shvil, as philanthropic and deferential as Ptolemy was, and Vernarth himself in Tel Gomel and Bumodos, herding the green glosses to open them towards the new magnus theological empire. Beyond the profile of the wise dervish, Limassol appeared, like a sapphire rosary entangling in the physiognomies of rises of hope, in the average Gen, when approaching the latent peninsula of the Eurydice's Gold medallion.

Judah was suspended in the Gigas Camels ruminating the bags of herbs that thickened in their Palestinian snouts, the sphinxes of the birds continued to grow with their wings to shelter the blasphemies of their prophets, and Judah wailing in the intrabony of those who traveled leaving of Judah, but never departing from the aramaic cells of Gethsemane, lost from Hellenic Existential Hypnosis. Investigating lost rings that would unite the dissolute stretch of the Cyclades, recomposing itself from expelled dramatic thicket and loss, in the foliage of the rocky jungle coastlines, where the Mariano gold medallion rests in the darkness of a moldy circular massif.

A faith to laws;
victim to burdens
and heavy with flaws,
yet sails seas in sleep,
breathing untouched miles,
A life from mans keep
with plentiful isles.
Under in dream, away from toil.
Relief is her coastlines and seagulls,
ebonies and greens,
pastels and neons,

pure to the seam

and whole.

"The power of freedom to overcome tyrants and terrorists"
Moral clarity accoding {cording} Natan Sharansky,
he mustabin seeking seeing through a moral window
besmerched wi'traditions
radiating

A Russian-reared Jew's perspective from Israel
In the 1990's
No integration without representation

--- wait, let the reader recall the goal - yet set not -
right, roll on
{where is this going, David Goodman Chronicles 2020}

The book of life, your role,
{when you find your name, you know}
expand into
A party for the moment, our parts played,

well, let's try {hence, a title}

----govern yer own damself

A gain, a tryal, a paying, a tension, contention,
single source contention,
pride's the culpa writ. Right.

{when you walk into a banquet, be polite,
meaning act as though you are where you know
you are welcome, ask if the empty seat is taken,
if not, you will know you are welcome,
neighbor. This is the same old way, in the future.}

Hubris gotcha down- be humble, win a crown

Shall we win freedom for those locked in fear?
A fine challenge, don't you think?
Read.
Sakarov was Sharansky's teacher, his Plato,
upon whose shoulders, strangely strong faith
finds footing,
fulcrum,
you get the ideas you claim to own, not
the ideas you thought taught
true to all who consume the canon.
Leverage.
A library gives a mind leverage,
we have AI, no lie.

An idea, an id-entity, speaking spirit
Weyekin, englished to we ye kin,
angels, beings guiding ones
who know.

Not every evil is nullified.
Be a ware, the e keeps you from being
a war, knowing your own self as warrior.
Peace makers do not keep the peace,
peace makers let it settle to stillness
waiting behind any obstacle,
waiting is suffering this to be so now, because
nothing in the energy compelling me is breaking
through
but to you, see, dear reader It may be
only I who thinks we are, you could be imaginary.

Actually.
Many useless
morals of stories remain as aphorisms
and adages and proverbial warnings to provoke.
Nietzsche numbered his, to give account
for every idle word,
links
perhaps…
Speak up, lie not against the truth, saying I know,
I know
-boundaries, of course
Freedom must be
defined.
Who knows? Tell me, oft-op apt ove'yer'head!
Y'know? Y,
Everyman does what is right in it's own eyes.
Maybe,
define everyman.
{und ganz Übermenchen}
All of us. Everyman sind all of us, in well ordered
reality,
such as our readers of reality-
between-
lines-never-drawn
in
sand. {flaunting the peace of the sabbath,
which did allow stoning, as you may recall.}

You see, we are in the same story.
There is no authority, save you pay,
free willingly, attention to tensions
seeming
to signal something
mechanical,
click,
ping, a single ATP dis compossesses.
-composed
Ride that photon.
Here we are again, speed of thought.
Think so? Real is an assumption, not an imagination.

I heard this guy say he was a son of God. Big G.
'Said he was aman with anorm al 'erose journey,
when 'tall wentahell.
Then, he believes he was reborn,
somewhat more than a mere mortal.
He claimed his forever
began when he stood up
to the knowing of good and evil, personally.
Intimately.
That seems good. Freedom is from some thing,
stricitive, right. Free from what?
Fear?
fear is one thing,
but fear has preservation purpose so,
we must be specific in which fears we bind to the NULL set.

WE are judging angels. Dare think.
You judged your own collection of inspirations,
did you not?
I prayed God, YHWH, actually, would show me
all the lies I believed,
about him and anything else. Amen, I did.
We'll make this plain, if this is your first signpost of note.

Ideas of freedom formed in the minds of slaves,
meet ideas of freedom formed in the minds of felons,
greet ideas of freedom formed in the minds of children in the desert,
bher with ideas formed in vacation bible school at hippie cults.
Suffer ideas formed in academies of technical guessing, f
er cryin' out loud.
Ideas of freedom?
Little children, keep yourselves from vain imaginations.

Freedom that cannot name Jesus YHWH is not the proof.
Truth is the proof. Truth makes free, he who seeks it,
which is not to say
he who has apprehended
the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
No, whoso ever seeks,
finds more abundance
of that which he has.
He who has nothing, finds nothing.

All candidates claiming direct linage to truth:
define freedom and be judged.

That's not fair.
Accuse, excuse us, life's not fair,

Judge yourself. "Make yer dam' bed!"
{presuming you woke t'd'yoke}
leave us form a
party to puff
up moral clarity like
leaven, till three more measures of
dust rise on the gasses we naturally

cannot see. In corpo ratus.
CLEAR!
Scientology? Coincidence, if 'tis.
Ol' magi-tech, what so
ever we agree. Same trick.
Sacro-sanctity
freedom from fear. Agree? No? Why not?

Fear of YHWH is the beginning of Wisdom.
True, but thought wrong.
Genitive fear, God's fear, is the beginning
of Wisdom, she was with him ere the
highest part of the dust of the world took form.
Fear of falling, is good -- no, it is a mistaken signal,
an imbalance, eh?
The speed of thought correction is faster than the eye
can see and warning is thought, of an unknown harm,
mistook.

Fear of believing lies, is needed, I thought, but, no,
There's no fear of believing lies,
truth be told.
"Cannot the tongue taste its words?"
"Is there any taste in the white of an egg?"
"Do you know the sweet influence of Pleiades?"

The bubble of all you know is an egg. Kinda.

-----

Self-govern, together live, birds of a feather flock together,
that idea. No slaves.

Fear society or free society, self, thyself, govern true.

That's right. "To thine own self, be true"
"believe no lie, tell no lie"
"Know thyself"
"Know thy shadow"

Today is 11-11-2021 the time here is 9:11 ante meridian,
You, as imagined, by me, alone,
are you, alone, reading, to yourself words
made from thoughts I am thinking at this pace.
Prepositioned, in your pastence.
Phrase, word, phrases, line
lines alone

lines in pairs
certain points genitivious, engender differing means
to obviously triplication of some certainties, certain
ties to old lines unraveled from a net knotted
in Ur.

We be ye kin, ken ye grock rocks rollin' on
down a course?
Of course you can, of course, the only common
course, this course of human events, common
sensed as time and space overlapping stuff.

Mater, mater, may I imagine being born, eh
oh, yes, -- movie memory -- see
right through the visible man,
a boy toy, picked by luck or the answer
to a prayer,
but I did ask for the best gift, hoping
it was money, because I was told Solomon,
was the wisest of mortals in ever, so
I was told he said, Money answereth all things.

Yeah, right. You already know, that seems so
wrong, wrong to the point, the root
of evil, barbed tail,
horns of dilemma, ah, what's a mind like mine to do?
Semantics, its all
se man tics, terms of worth, pro
forward onward efforting verbs, action words
The Infallible Book declares, Money answereth all things.

A single grain contains the whole, or some say so,
I imagine reality less restrictive in common sense
utility
use of knowns passed on as memes with reasons,
we sit to
gather memory, tell story, think song sung, sing
that song
a gain, we make the peace past understanding,
past when we were one, and we stood up
right
and ran away
remember, the heart of every story boy meets girl.

Well, this is different, scientifical. Fantastic, sure,
stable as the grammar in DNA.

Steady as the procession of the stars seen from
certain times and places, and passed through time
to any who wish to know
all the truth once held in forms told around fires
to comfort a child with a common cold,
aches and sniffles, full tummy,
milk and honey heated by stones, dropped
into a turtle shell mug my grandma gave to me

drifting into to tal, mor tal is man mortalisman more
more
more, wait. Wait.

We breathe. We listen. This is the book of life, live.

My task is breathing inlets along coastlines, where
waves of overlapping, pearling shallows round
stones as witness, stones crying out
living water has shaped me, see,

is this beauty for giving or selling. I wish I knew,
instantly,
this bit has been freely given, for the use
been made,
the formation, the inspiring aspiration to make

make up
a mind to find the answer, and find
it does appear
line upon line,
beyond the library Daniel witnessed sealed.

Money made this possible, this magic pen,
for all intents and purposes, this tech is magic.

Have you witnessed 3-D printing circa 1985?
Mac SE was cutting edge, and owning one
was status, using one was a good gig,
for an old counter of picas and points, once
the laser writer met vector formed fonts
calculated, computed with most accurate maths,
tangents and cosins and such,

the power of the press, in the hands of a pauper,
hmm, time and chance, let me warn you, this is
the untangling of the famed tangled web we weave
when first we receive the call to listen to the truth
you hear in written words arranged in patterns
adapted to the available, usable, medium.

Draw your self watching the horses painted
as the song of us is sung, a domus, we domus, us

singing together we form
awe
awfullest noise you can imagine in a secret place.

Welcome to the cavern of forgotten good ideas
and idle words mistaken as misdefined, this is that.
              
-restart
from certain places where uses are determined
by any means, good
[ye-es, the idea at the center}
pre-positioned, made fit for a king or a priest
or any humbler soul in a state of grace, id
est, best state, favored, by no power id-entity in me
conceived, but by the word of GOD, who is
good
all the time, any hungry child knows, how a child
weighs the worth of such an idea, plucked
from thin air…

Here, we be, wir sind, si, we know, go Ko!
golf-commentator whisper voice

did you come to find my voice, listen
learning is the first act that never ends,

the next word is the next thing, eventually,
events being
things, in their own right state, useful, or not.

Tantrums serve to prove the uselessness of tantrums.
Grandfather level wisdom fits moral to mean to end,
end all conjecture,
cease casting all cares to the common winds of time,
and space and sea and sky, everywhere idiocy abides
provoking one
an other, ricochet-re-re-re act re
sponse, jump, start

run, upright, spring thinking what
if
I say this is the goal, get to the bottom, fundus
professionally guided by I mind I myself, made up
mind
including you, the acting dear reader.
Saving myself for a publisher, copy right ritual
of code devisors, to increase interest,
gouge-deeper gullies to wash away desires
inspired by alluring vertisements intended
to loosen your grip
on sati. Satisfy my yearning soul-blues, bha-bha
boom
woncha sing witme seem what we seem to be
haps in a time per haps
may happen at will in a mind on a binge to end
all binges, writing like a joy-daemon viral
ex-plainer, needling *****, look

this way, see

ear? Practice makes perfect opportunity next

use of truth to tell a lie from a joke, perhaps
that is the trick,
who told the tale before you heard it was your
intellectual heritage,

your link to who and what you are, through song
and saga and right stepped beeing dancing thisaway
thataway sing asongofus a we a we a we away

what were we thinking, then
Lion King reminds us, being or not, what do we got
to do to attain

Acunamatattal rattle shake shake shake
shake your spoils from the war,
were you unaware, shaking ***** measures worth?

Stealing attention from the stars, eh,
lying demon, here, here be heretic tic, instant
hell
a poppin all around, as we recall some mirror neurons
to signal gut response
text wise
is this happening? Did the dam break, or the branch

is this a bough breaking affirmation broken from
the tree of life entangling the tree of knowing increase
vow to know
more, was the chant for warned be, war chants and we
chants are mortally indiscernible but

we die to learn the difference, you must be born again,
I can not call that a lie. Nor can you and prove me wrong.

Was that a the reason for war all along, selected
bits of the last old wives tales, the barren ones,

old wives, who watched no child, ever form, from
one generation, after another, to no eggs
ever forming vessels for the spirit of life knowing knowing
things, we agree on
things, we agree on things we make up and lie to others

to scare them, put fear in their hearts, fear of death,
real, on the edge, fear, we make up,
we pretend, we play, who am I to be, when I grow up?
- practice perfect sati, old wives say we agree, go.
polisemy spawn bloom Thuc's lic be witcha

If it was a common question, why was it no answer
is readily available…

avail, second instance, in this stream, how extra
ordinareally organzed are these eddies in the depths,
silken threads, silver in golden needles, apples
of gold, in pitchers of silver, still life, made
in vocative voice we sought, peace
in a picture
formed from words drawn in letting symbols setting
free
chthonic thoughts some time now,
where we go or how is immaterial now, here
is where all the power to be us - is, right now.

I'm loving the concept, except one knows,
one knows not,

could be a numbered aphorism in thoth lost long ago.

Freedom from pain? When? When the pain ends.

I have watched Thuc burn, many flashes
as to why
so, I surmise, no promise I am right then, but now
I am right, as a twist top.

As in,
do it right or break the true purpose of rightness,
lefty loosy, listen
righty tighty, mechanical children know that by five.

So in saying we ***** with minds we mean we re
thread the spiral needed to hold order to the curve
we use to move from mind to mind
by simple subtility common to reading minds, let
loose from codes of obscurity and silence,

priesthood of the programmers, defiled
by HyperCard…

hit it, 1985, we role the hero in the tail, the new man
stranger in his own home town, trope, f'shore

distant Homer's combed the beaches, sifting shipwrecks

finding, from time to time, these jars of old stories
written in magical ways, saying unspeakable things.

A dawning in the mind of all the kin, weyekin, listen
we say say the story so
somebody
listens, thinks, listens thinks, I thought that,
and laughs,

that feels good, silent smile, quiet grin, nobody sees,
but me, we ai n't e-whistlin', Dixie,

did the singer make a we of us, or did you watch
the TV show,
so you know? Did we meet and leave impressions,
or did you think I reminded you of a character
Bill Murray could play well?

What the hell? Imagine that, being another body,
after being this, be gone.
Sa sa sati. Is fine, as an idea, an id-entity in common state
free satisfaction for any dis-
satisfied mind, but
be aware, breathing is involved, for a lifetime, of days
and seasons, one after the other, constantly
feeling the draw
of empty from full, as we all sang, let the healing waters
flow,
and the joys, celestial
glow… go go go make up a Mormon link and think we

lied about many things, we need not lie about knowing.

Now, no lie lives in sacred temples misappropriated
by a tyranny over the mind of man,
to which we Jeffs and Jinn agree, an end is deservant

of your attention to the actual forces involved in details,
such as you reading this line after all the lines you read
before
now… when your clock is pacing, time's worth one way
or wait,
a guide, some intuitive icon may make sense suddenly
256 shades of grey, undefiled by the muse that planted
the shame associated with putting on that mind,
being in the head of a dramatic iteration of broken

sense of being holy, historical fashion statements
straight from full victorian victim global angst,

interesting times, said the chinaman to the BIC guy,

click, British East India, and the ***** war and
the tea cartel.

Grey Pompon, cheer rah rah rich man, now I can
eat your mustard,
rawly.

Euphony, is good euglobonics, euro-trash
white and all its malonat- ive {melatonin-iment}
serrendipt natural to the medium
hyper-text in metaspace, true to the thought
at
the bottom, pro fundus
ment-al-ity ifs
itself
into this actual state, where
when I write you read, and
this is connected to a very complex
tangled web of reasonings for acting
as if we know
this is that right thing you do, we do think
the thoughts in words we let mean true
things, in bundles.

Sub routines, we may choose
to understand, reasons for simple when
sublime takes a life time.

Faster fasting, we did, my we did speed,
even if it was only a game,
we generated the oomph that once made
war
bore boys and girls who saw the science
consciously, thinking
I was made for this, this time, these rules,
this tech
this magic, this history, this lexicon

this underneathness, chthonic thought
Lex Fridman, coincidental influencer
Joe Rogan happened,
to survive, or
did he, is he really Joe Rogan, on Spotify
or did he leave his sould self on YouTube
bait,
come pay me attention I may sell and
make you laugh and feel good
doing it, laughing
inside.

I just recall this guy I know, who has
grown anonymously old, mellowed
with char and aged to perfection
on the adapted tongue,
it is a cultural test, can you swallow
the real
hard stuff boy?

You want a taste of your own medicine,
- twined voices old and gravelly craw
- high and whiny boy

The story takes a turn, same script,
life is poetic, or is that the other way round,

who cares

Malonate
The malonate or propanedioate ion is CH₂2−.
Malonate compounds include salts and esters
of malonic acid,
such as diethyl malonate,₂,
dimethyl malonate,₂,
disodium malonate,
Na₂.
Malonate is a competitive inhibitor
of the enzyme succinate dehydrogenase:
malonate binds
to the active site
of the enzyme
without reacting, and so competes
with succinate,
the usual substrate
of the enzyme.
The observation that malonate is
a competitive inhibitor
of succinate dehydrogenase was used
to deduce the structure
of the active site
in that enzyme.

From <https://uci.officeapps.live.com/OfficeInsights/web/views/insights.immersive.html>

MMM, I get by…

Long I remember
When alone I’d run
To the sea side shores
For sandy mud-pun walks
On where waves lengths strength
Stretched and end reached
And never passed
And on cliffs patched
Where nests all sea birds
Was a shamble of noises
And a squabble of fights

Some were stealing from others
Others were killing others
Many were murdering in angers
Little were busy battling hungers
Rest were roosting and resting  
Grooving and grooming

Sporadically, a Tern would call
Kwi! Kwi! Kwi-kwiii!
He would gather his feathers
And fully beautifully display
Their clean preened length
Before her maternal mate
To strengthen their eternal fate
And she would appreciate
With gestures affectionate
Her lover’s majestic exhibit

A pair of Puffins pretty would come-Penguins and Magpies black-white coats
Rainbow beaks, puffed cheeks and orange webbed-feet beautiful creatures
Innocent as ever, active as always with mouthfuls of sea foods-fishes
Irregular, her wobbling gait weighed down by her food and hasty walks home-
Worried hurry to luckily escape being bullied and robbed his foetuses’ foods
Along the long ways home full of lethal ruthless poachers and predators:
Feral opportunists and scavengers lurking near paths to their nests
Pitiful I’d feel at how unfair nature is to these hardworking birds
And helpless how they would surrender their hard-earned meals

With Hornbills’-heavy headed huge beak, Ducks’-webbed feet
Fowls’-heavy flying body and an imbalanced Penguins’ wobbling walks
She can’t match the Petrels and Ravens merciless ruthlessness
The Gulls’, and Kittiwakes’-scissor sharp beaks
The Hawks and Ospreys lethal hooked beaks
The Gannets’ and Kites cheetahs’-top speeds
Or the sitting Sea-Steller swift lift of their wings strength  
Piteously he surrenders his hard worked worth meals
And risks another long journey back to survive

A Gull would run, chasing the receding waves
Fast pick a pebble-like coloured sea shell crustaceans
Then poke his long hooked-edge beak
To peep and see if there was anything worth to peak
Of the wavy tides hustles and the sea-side buzzing bustles
The patience of waiting, of watching and of walking
Before the stealth Stilts, their competitor strides
And another giant wave of waves roars and come calling
And they wiggle as they walk and run to escape his sad slaps on sands

The Walrus and the Otters
The Sea-Lions and the Cormorants
Would all nest to rest invest and reinvests
On their furs and feathers fond interests
The Seals and their pretty Pups all would leisure
In colonies on wet large rocks far and away
From washing-waves and terrible-tides and sea-sands
And their Bellow and low and moo like loud grumbles
The irregular moo-mee! Dins of the fish markets rumbles
Would fill and drown the sea-side sounds
Mother besides kids-compassionate
Protecting its investigative innocence
From the cruel colony crushing crashes

Then there would come the tranquility of twilight
The much awaited time for all sea-lovers and watchers
The last of coastal day’s romantic rushes-lovers large leaving to burn their passions
A time when lovers would leave their cottages comforts hand-in-hand: arm-in-arm
To cuddle and cradle and canoodle-to freely display their amorous love
In the sands and mud’s pads, last before the sun bids them another goodbye
The mother of all coastal auburn burn magnificence-the setting sun
The colours of the coastlines as the sun burns touched the ocean’s horizons
It so an enthralling, captivating sight of the sun and the sea and the scenic serenity

The nights quiet with billions lights of signaling stars
and the midnight’s silent with the gleaning moons
These are the nights of the most patient, passionate, romantic passengers-the night watchers
Beautiful! Munificent! Glamorous! Awesome! Splendid! Spectacular!
I’d use all the adjectives there is to describe the alluring scenery of the moments  
So precious-so peaceful to the mind, to the soul and to the heart-a holistic healing
The captured memories of the stars studded nights and the magnificent moonlit midnights
Alone in the nights with just the silences of the soothing breezes on the palms fronds-restful!

© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.

there is so much about life he does not understand powers influences insights secrets repetitions patterns relationships mysteries so many things to learn remember so many things to forget every morning he wakes with hope faith no matter how challenging threatening or bleak the odds he feels confident in the possibilities optimistic in his abilities desires believing in his quest for love success happiness yet every night alone in his empty room he comes undone again

Dad’s dying generates beginning of Odysseus’s awakening from his long deep stupor Dad was so heavy-handed intimidating his reign of terror is done next several years blow by like chilling numb wind off lake michigan dreams seem more real than existence Odysseus continues painting writing bartending drives Farina to beach daily it takes a while for him to realize he is freed of shackles Dad’s tyranny and it is all right to answer to himself alone in june 1994 news reports genocide of 800,000 people murdered in rwanda in july Odysseus feels trapped in identity he can no longer endure after struggling for years to achieve stature as accomplished painter he realizes he is nobody perhaps simply troubled artsy son of well-to-do Chicago socialites Jenny and late Max Schwartzpilgrim his discontent goes beyond family he feels shame disappointment with himself desperately needs to make changes to his life knows he cannot do it in chicago weary of all the sins damage he has made suffered in that city he wants to find somewhere less corrupt stressful more down-to-earth knows all to well how to get in trouble wants to find someplace where there is no trouble somewhere quiet dull preferably beautiful Odysseus liquates ashes to ashes clears altar of every dust flake sells paintings art supplies books music cassettes clothes vintage collection other possessions at sidewalk sale makes out with nearly $6000 whatever he does not sell he gives or throws away he is used to giving or throwing himself away he is 44 Mom protests but her disapproval packs no punch without Dad he says his goodbyes to family friends packs up toyota and with Farina steers away from chicago he leaves behind many destructive friends acquaintances people who will never dig their way out of wrecks they are buried in leaves behind history of minor misdeeds abuses disappointments scenes happenings he feels shame regret about he leaves behind practice of familiar patterns certainties faces names who recognize his talent problematic self never again will he benefit from questionable reputation nor will phone ring many times daily and never again will there always be someone to meet up with or gathering to go to he leaves behind support system of loving family friends fans whom he will miss greatly he lets go the character he was to become someone different hopefully better they drive on aimless odyssey without thinking searching with no place in mind listens for scenery to call to him inwardly the journey is the meaning he drives up streets down alleys through 4 corner towns bypassing most cities whenever he sights a lake he pulls over treats Farina to a swim sometimes swimming together they sleep in tent or stay at inexpensive motels that allow dogs while driving he often feels overwhelmed by diverse raw beauty of American landscapes lush forests spectacular mountain ranges sweeping valleys winding 2 lane highways along coastlines he points out sights to Farina but ultimately he wishes for another pair of human eyes beside him

I’ve watched the western coast decline in pounding surf and howling gale
I’ve noticed how the rising tides encroach, to day by day impale,
The crumbling cliffs, the drifting sand, the ever creeping surging sea,
The violence of increasing storms…. and how it all impacts on me.

The polar ice in melting sheets cascades into high warming seas
Islands in Pacific sun now inundate with cruel ease.
Swathes of forest in Brazil encroached by axe and palm oil gain
Climatic balance counteracts to guarantee tomorrows pain.

The ocean strewn with plastic waste, choked in tides of human ****
Churning chimneys bellow forth across the blue globe, poisoning it.
Coal’s contaminants are burning holes across the crystal sky
And leaking nuclear waste contributes now… to killing you and I.

Wealth and politicians howl abuse at they who caution loud
Climate change, they disavow, is but a ploy to woo the crowd,
“**** the future for the now” is the mantra held by they
Who wield the club to rule the roost and pocket spoils themselves….today!

Overwealmed by monstrous change, management relinquish charge,
Service and supply collapse with climatic refugee collage.
Hurricane and wildfire spread in league with rising seas
Of course the leaders wring their hands and call on God to please, .....appease?

A vision of this shrunken earth with coastlines vastly higher now
With cities drowned, Atlantis like, where millions, dispossessed, do prowl,
Where law and order, gone, is now replaced by desperate **** and take,
Where the rich and famous bastion arms behind their futile walls of  hate.

Ask not for whom the bell tolls...It tolls for thee
M.
30 July 2019
New Zealand

Ya know ...
I used to use ... " Dots " ...

or what's called ... " Ellipses " ...

to Connect ... My Scriptures ... !!!

but Now ... use ... " Squiggles " ...
to Connect ... The Lyrics ...
That I ... sit and ... " Scribble " ... !!!

So I DO ... Connect Dots ... !!!
with rhymes I ... " Jot " ...
About ... Terrorist Plots ... !!!
and ... " Corporate " ... Bods' ...

Whose jobs are ... " Those " ...
where agendas ... "Hold" ...
the keys to ... " Gold " ...

and Maybe ... " Oil " ... !?!
AND ... DRUG LORD ... Spoils ... !!?!!

Dots I ... Use ...
CONNECT ... Issues ...
That Some ... " Confuse " ... ???
as ... " Deluded " ... Views ... !?!

So WHO's ... " Deluding " ... WHO ... ?!?
with news they produce ... ???

Groups like ... W.H.O. ... ?

The types who ... FUEL ...
EBOLA News ... !!!!!

As if Africa ... IS ...
A place where the ... SICK ...
Get ... INFECTED ... !!!!! ...
By ... ALL KINDS OF ... " Things " ... !!!

That ...
Seem to ... STING ... !!!!!

EXCEPT ... " Projects " ...
Set by ...  " The West " ... ?????

That are ... " Scientist Led " ...
to FEED ... Black DEATH ... !!!!!

or WORSE ... Black PLAGUES ... !!!!!!

That They then say ...

"NEED TO BE CONTAINED
IN VARIOUS WAYS !"

BEFORE ... They Arrive ...
in ... Western States ... !!!!!!!!!

Something seems ... " Strange " ... ?
AFRICANS ... fade awayyyyyyyyyyyyyy ..............................

While Westerners ... SURVIVE ... !!!
When Ebola Strains ...
Reach ... Their Coastlines ... ?!?

Then OF COURSE ... They CLAIM ...

"Africa NEEDS AID !"

From The West ... who say ...

That ...

"Africa was, the first place
to have aids !"

A.I.D.S. .... !!!!!!!!

The type that left .........
A Trail of ... Death ... !!!

Just like ... " The Feds' " ...
when they SHOOT ... Bullets ... !!!!!

Could cash be spent ?
by the ... I.M.F.
to " Aid and " ... PROTECT ...
and STOP ... These Trends ... ?!?

Well ...
Aid They ... Give ...
These days I ... Think ...............

Seems to be the ... " Type " ...
That Has ... A PRICE ...
That's ... WAY TOO HIGH ... !!!!!

" These " .....

" Dots of Mine " ...
DO NOT ... Contrive ...
to ... Formulate ... LIES ...
That ... DAMAGE ... Lives ... !!!!!

THEY ...
OPEN ... Eyes ... !!!!!
and ... OPEN ... Minds ... !!!
to the things ... "disGuiSed" ...

As TRUTH ... Defined ...

I Think ... You'll Find ...
That ... Truth's ... DENIED ...

Pretty Much ... ALL THE TIME ... !!!

But NOT ... in rhymes ... I ...
Sit and .... Write .... !!!

From ... Relationships ...
that ... Bear ... WITNESS ...
to the ... " Types of Women " ...
Who Play ... " The Victim " ...
from The End ... Back to Beginning ... ?!?

What's with these chicks ... ?
Who Think ... They're ... " Slick " ...

They're SLICK ... Alright ... !!!
Like ... " Grease and Slime " ... !!!

UNTIL ... " Chauvinists " ...
Treat them like ... ***** ... !!!!!

and ....
Leave them ... " DITCHED " ...
Like .... My Lyrics ....

So THEY ... WON'T LIKE ...
These words I ... write ... !!!!!!!

The Dots they ... " Connect " ...
AREN'T GOOD ... for Men ... !!! ...
when they get ... UPSET ...
Over ... PURE NONSENSE ... !?!?!

Or Let ... Their NEED ...
for ATTENTION ... Be ...

The Thing that ... DESTROYS ...
Relationship ... " Poise " ...
because ... " Boys with " ... " Ploys " ...
Can ... OPEN THEM ... Up ...
Like ... ******* Toys ... !!!!
and ... OTHER ... Stuff ... !!!!!!!!!!

These Girls ... " Employ " ...

That ... SATISFY ...
MORE THAN ... These ... " Guys " ...
Who ... TRY and TRY ... !!!!! ...
to ... Make Them ... " Smile " ... !!!!!

By ...
Giving them ... " Child " ...
and ... Marriage Vibes ...
Where ... CONNECTION ... is the Key
to .... Relationship .... GLEE .... !!!!!

But .....
How Many do we see ... ?
who are Living ... " Happily " ... ?!?

CONNECT ... " Those Dots " ...
and you ... Might Get ... SHOCKED ... ?!?
by those now ... "LOCKED" ...

In Relationships ... " Docked " ...
with .... NO iPod ... !?!?! ...

" Hold on, that's wrong ! "

Like couples who ... " Plod " ...
For the ... " Children's Sake " ... !?!

Which i'm ...
Primed to say ...

is a ... BIG Mistake ... !!!!!

If you ... DON"T ... get along
It's time to .... Move on .....................................
WITHOUT ... " Using " ... Your Child ...
Like some ... " ******* " ... !!!!! ...

to be USED ...
while you ... ABUSE ...
Yourself and ... THEM ... !?!?!

Does that ... Make Sense ... ?!?

Children NEED ... " Dots " ...
That Connect ... WITHOUT The ... STRESS ...
of Parents ... FIGHTING Like ... Dogs ... !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Who Got Married ... Just because ...

" The Premise " ... seemed ... INVITING ...
Before they got a .................. " Sighting .................................
of Who ... The Other ...... WAS ...... !!!!!!

The TRUTH is ... That ...
Our Lives ...
DON'T Always ... " Intertwine ' .............  

which is WHY ...
We SHOULD ... " Take Time " ...
to YES ... CONNECT The ... Dots ... !!!

with someone who IS ... Strong ... !!!
and DOESN'T Cause ... PROBLEMS ... !!!

That SEVER ...
MORE THAN ... " Bond " ... !!!!!!

My Style of ... Rhyme ...
IS ... Clever ... !!!

Because .....

Problems ... " I Solve " ...
Within The Verse ...
I put to ... WORK ...
Like THOSE ... Who have ... " The Job " ...
of being ..... NEW ..... " Sherlocks " ..... !!!!!!!

STOPPING ....
Violent ... " Yobs " ... !!!!!

and Those who ...
Choose to ... ROB ... !!!!!
Or WORSE STILL ...
Choose to ... **** ... !!!!!!

But Nowadays ...
Their Dots ... Display ...
A BLATANT ... DIS-Connect ... !!!

Between these heads in ... " Uniforms " ...
and " Basic " ... " Common Sense " ... ?!!!? ...

and Being ... MORE ...
Than KILLERS Who ...
Are Causing ... STORMS ... !!!

Because they're ... NO BETTER ...
Than ... " Hannibal Lector " ... !!!!!!!

MURDERERS Who ... " Stalk " ...
More Than They ... " Walk The Walk " ...

of .... " PROTECTING TO SERVE " ... !!!!!!

They Connect and ... HURT ... !!!
MORE THAN They ... " STOP " ...

The CRIMINALS ... Who ...
SIT IN ..... "Boardrooms" ...... ?!?

and DON'T GET ... " SHOT " ... !?!
for the CRIMES They ... "PLOT" ... ?!?

Something seems ... " WRONG " ... ?!?
when Blacks get ... SHOT ...
For Being .... BLACK .... !!!!!!!!

What's up with ... THAT ... ?!?

I Think it's TIME ...
To STOP ... These CRIMES ... !!!!!

As it seems to be ... RIGHT ...
To STOP ... These Rhymes ...

Before ... These Lines
are Deemed to ... " INCITE " ...

When ALL They ... " Reflect " ...
Are Some ... " Thoughts " ... Expressed ...
That ... talk about ... " Health " ...
and The ... HARD SELL ... !!!!!
of ... "Devious Plots" ...

That Seem .... ALL WRONG ... ? !!! ?

Until YOU ...
Take The Time ... to ...

" Connect The Dots " .................................................................­....................

Listen Here :

https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/connect-the-dots?in=user-16569179/sets/the-cmi-sessions