Distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness, existentially transcendental's clairaudience clairvoyance.  Metaphysical mystique’s  evolutionally metamorphic futurity's fatidic incarnate.  Due yesterday’s retrospectively retroactive.  Protractive analyses' dimensional delineations.  Enigma entity’s dexterously tactile acuity and coordinated agility on the identity crisis.  Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix to synaptic syntax semantics.  Prospectus perplexity surreally sublime.  Quagmire quandary’s poshly plush.  Who am I to think I can conception of the infinite supply?  Even the syntactics of eclectic synectics pale by compare to the atrociously impetuous impudence in pugnaciously audacious.  Impromptu innuendo's juncture.   Imagination’s immaturities are psychic clarity’s entelechy to evolutional tenants élan vital.  Fiduciary principle's financially responsible fiscal policies.   Mercenary mendacity's plenary plenipotentiary.  Innocuous noumenal verity, mystic symbiotic’s chicanery dynamism fealties.  Proximity parameter’s perimeter peripherals, vicinity victuals to vigilante villain,   propinquity habitation’s harbingers of harangued.  The question remains on the tribal:  how can I stand next to the person I’m standing next to if I’m carrying on right through them.  It’s the trajectory extant in spatiotemporal's telemetry tactician.  Well graspy greedy on the stingy frugal to mingy minion and paw flaw laws claws on it.  Get a glove, objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iota’s of self-inductive interstitial extrapolation.  Detinue perfective.  Traveling down this obtusely overt contusion in my vehicular contrivance convection convolution.  Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s aura roan to rainbow mare.  Unicorn railway nails.  Swarthy ******* swath swizzles on the sweaty swelter swerve to verve.

If one considers the tesseract  as a worm hole that gets stronger as it traverses the distance traveled time spent to become the clairaudience clairvoyance of astral projection’s existential extremity……..I mean like what is the nature of  exigence exodus’s exponentially extemporaneous.  I mean given that  infinite possibility is the nature of omnipresence’s omniscience and we are but a refractively reflective embodiment  of its integrable form’s extant:   the residual harmonic vibrations of kinetic supremacy’s trajectory.  
        
So I ask again “Is intellectual sentience the catalyst for the evolution of God?”  Perhaps if we all practice zoomorphic zoolatry on the social contiguities of demagoguery the vicarious recalcitrance of its objectified manifest's dimensional delineations will raise us all to new heights of enigmatism.  
       
 But no, we are but relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity.  We’re not capable of transmuting  our environment with the imbue in the exude of our emote, despite the concoctions we xenobiotic prosthesis.  We are incapable of interceding en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit.  We don’t amount to the seven five six-y on it to eight.  We are more the four-ness of three given the two-y-ness of one.  The 3D macro of the fecundity of micro’s induction's fertility.  

I submit:  
  
“Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to its progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to its innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of its conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of its relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.”  

And

“As the relative complexity of its interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of its conjunction yet the totality of its ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .”

And

Given the theory of ultimate entropy and the probable cyclic nature of existence……and given that there probably was no beginning so therefore an eternity has already passed, ”I have a theory: This spatiotemporal fecundity, this creationism occurs at such an imperceptible rate that positive eons of quadrillions of ages must pass in order for the cosmos to replenish its stockpile of physical matter (possibly matter without atomic structure as we know it) so that a new cycle of infinite big bangs in infinite space can occur.”

       Yes, it seems that basic gravity has extent on the extremity.  Huge sections of it slowly implode until the compression causes a singularity, or so it would seem.  Who knows, perhaps some of these big bangs have different periodic tables than ours.  I mean why would they all be the same, given that infinite possibility is the nature of omnipresence’s ubiquity.  
      
I like to think I cerebral cortex ****** matrix resemble but there’s a vast difference between relative rationality and rational relativity.  Noumenal sentience’s semantic regalia is incorporeity ideology’s platonic proxy incarnate for after all what is the nature of problematic prosthesis to mystic symbiotics?  
      
Protractive analyses of dimensional delineation are in order.  The basic fecundity of spatiotemporal telemetry’s virility had an exogamy with the infinite vastness and the inky blackness.  It’s some pretty inimitable stuff, trajectory extant and all.  
      
So, back to the tesseract perhaps the creativities of imagination’s immaturities are teleportational  translucence to transcendency  verve.  Then again perhaps we are corporeally preternatural finites and adjunctly  juxtapositional is beyond our metaphysical mystique………I like to think not!!!  Tesseract.

Fertile earth’s seductive sorcery
Like ephemeral effulgence’s effluent effusion
Can lead you to believe that it’s not a travesty
Like life’s visceral intuitive eternal is not lost in subtle evasive confusion

Life’s virile translucence reflects this glow
Like an aorist ensemble of interludes transposition
Can lead you to believe that you’re in the know
Like omnipresence presages omniscience’s ubiquity is existential exigency’s peroration’s exposition

Corporeally preternatural's metaphysical mystique
Like a mirador bartizan tableau panorama
Can inspire us to rise above its critique
Like spatiotemporal’s telemetry incarnate is creation’s vivid intrepid cyclorama

Spectral verve’s liaison’s consortium
Like eclectic synectic’s conclave’s fatidic
Can leave you lost in germane compendium
Like terminus thrall’s apriori inclination is transcendental accession’s endemic mnemonic

Monad’s transitional majestic splendor
Like residual harmonic vibration’s resilience
Can autonomously evoke and vicariously render
Like rubato’s actuator’s prospectus revealed is orchestration rendition’s intriguing brilliance

Eidetic preterit’s aesthetic amendments
Like protractive analyses’ dimensional delineations
Can lead to cogent salacious enticements
Like phantasmagoria’s fantasia fantastication’s magniloquence is sultry solace’s ostentatious ideation

~~~

Jan 31, 2014

Victuals Victim


There is a contest this day,
that does not involve my P.S.F.
(Preferred Sport Franchise)

truly, don't give a good ****** who wins,
but that is no excuse to deny me
my victim status,
my Sir Sore Loser demeanor,
so poorly,
in season's long suffering
earned,
so richly,
undeserved.

A triumvirate of
Doctor, G.F. and battery
of medically intrusive tests,
have ruled on the field,
that but once a year,
a conjugal visit permitted,
tween my arteries and chicken wings,
is legally permissive.

there will pigs in blankets
oinking, demanding attention,
sliders and mini right sized,
bite sized potato knishes
(at least in New York City)
cole slaw juices,  
even a
foreign dignitary,
Sayyid Cous-Cous,
all lining up along side
the quarterback  
who will be slinging
'winging' honey and spicy passes
to his favorite receiver,
this couch coach
and today's impartial line judge.

This is my Super Sunday fare,
antithesis of a pre-Day of Atonement fasting meal.
where gluttony
is deemed
less than kosher

If insufficiently highbrow,
for all you poetic aesthetes,
have no fear,
this athlete gastronomic,,
victim of his victuals,
will prepare mentally
to reverse course afterwards,
by hanging out
with King Lear yet once more,
sharing a verbal tasting menu fare,
a recollection of a prior years repast,
this King,
an unrepentant Manchester man-fan,
who knew me too well,
and once condemned me,
after an historic NY Giants Super Bowl celebratory,
sadly,
all too many years ago,
as follows:

"A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats;
a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited,
hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave;
a lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson,
glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue;
one-trunk-inheriting slave;
one that wouldst be a bawd,
in way of good service, and art nothing but
the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar,
and the son and heir of a mongrel *****:
one whom I
will beat into clamorous whining,
if thou deniest
the least syllable of thy addition.”

― William Shakespeare, King Lear

~~~

Feb. 2, 2014

My leash is on,
I am to be walked

ad melius parare hominem,
to better prepare man,
before the coma of wings and a super sized
spectacle
tackles, invades and overtakes,
his nation's soul.


by the East River
will I be perambulated,
following 
each lying-down,
pedestrian drawning of a chalk figure,
directing the course
of a river walk
drawn and quartered
just for me.

chatting to the gulls
re the river's latest delicacies,

comparing my upcoming menu
for overlapping interest,
while praying the bicyclists,
on my body,
have tender mercies.

because I will,
all the walking while
be silently recording poems,

to tribute the international nation
of poets and the
global sport of
poetry,
that knows no leagues,
or geographic
delineations.

~~~

Feb 5, 2014

leftover chicken wings and other love nonsense

the woman disregards
what's best for me,
instead, gives me with the
kindest of disregards,
what's best for me,
for this is the kindness
that hallmark stamps
upon the softened heart,
the long lasting kind
of kind

before your childlike
tap tap attention away-wains,
bring you this,
a treatise,
on leftover chicken wings
and other nonsensical
finger food additions,
purposed
to inspire, to find innovation,
in expressing, reclaiming and newly exclaiming
that miscreant four letter word,
£0V€
that appears in those unsilent majority,
99% of them, other entrants
the Bohème poèmes,
residing in our Mr. Roger's neighborhood

in some poem writ recent,
poet pontificated,
that the most overused words, yes,
those abused three,
(duh, I love you)
degraded by overuse,
lost their poetic juice
thru constant repetition,
almost being nearly boringly indecent,
even when
boldly italicized

the impact upon the reader
lives in the lies in the realm of
"oh yeah, that's nice"

far, far better
to be best in show,
deduce how renewed,
to meaty demonstrate
rather than
insistently remonstrate,
in newer ways,
every day
that grade A choice
sentiment

to say, par example,
that serving day old chicken wings means,
well,
you know what...

Some get tea and oranges,
me, I get cherished
when our repast is
twice recast,
when she feeds me
leftover chicken wings,
both kinds,
spiced and honey
that come all the way
from her heart

so, now do you know why
Silly
has two L's?

Correct.
(answer: lucky in love)

for the luck-river-runs
lie just neath
the silliness currents swirling,
where kissing knuckles unexpectedly,
******* the exhausted,
tucking them in,
going out for emergency ice cream
in the midst of a
polar vortex,
recording the game to wee hour watch later,
so she may hang with the notorious outlaw
"Downtown Abbey Gang,"
watching at the
proper English place and time,
leaving the celebrating of life's  leftovers,
for the morrow sup,
with chicken wings and 0
other things
reheated,
and other heartfelt,
but unhealthy,
warm heartening
food additions

that folks,
is how you write
a poem in deed,
one that will be returned to you
sevenfold
in reads

when you want to explain how,
you can, truly, sigh,
you know,
love another...
employing with decoying,
sinful, leftover chicken  wings
then you too be mastering,
the poetic life
of sonnet and song

~~~

Sailing the mystic omnipresent seas,
on a craft made of dragonfly's wings.
Tacking across the magical breeze,
caused by songs that the sirens sing.

Weathered and worn by infinite tides,
holding lines made of eternal foible.
The warrior's blade like a rudder she rides,
in a sheath made of filigreed sable.

Virulent flow of futurity's pandemic,
vibrant waters fertile subtle surreal.
Ephemeral beings translucent endemic,
purveys omnipresent augur's appeal.

The starlit sky imbues waterfall's mist,  
myriad creatures seek eternity's mantra.
Vivid delineations of artistry's gist,
seeking virile omnipotent yantra.

Celestial heights where eagles traverse,
soaring and gliding we learn to fly.
Must life be terminal we say of terse,
whilst composing music to make angels sigh.

Gloriously swept away down a beautiful corridor,
both thought and experience.
The light seems purposeless, and the newest of all eyes begins receiving the inlaid context springing to life, and they all seem to like it this way.

No obstacles, only a clear path beset with many delineations.
It's the very real idea that any and all paths are yours to be taken without regret, absence of remorse.
The skin prickles itself to life. The body convulses, yet remains still.
It's the inward reflection, the silhouette just beyond the corneas that's dancing.
And even if you wish they could feel it, there remains a beautiful selfishness about keeping it to yourself.

No matter, you bring it forth with spring charged steps, composed breath.
It's the example you set, the smile cast forward as a fisherman's net, capturing all the unwilling fish.
No need for verbal explanation, they'll understand if they choose, but again this is simply for you.

Your touch carries a power far more kinetic than a lightening bolt, your look renders them catatonic. Filling with questions, but overwhelmingly more so joy.

"I want what they're having."
A simple sentence you now know as prophecy.

Urging them, "Dance with me, while motionless, speak with me wordlessly, carry me without the burden of strained muscle, exist with me amidst the beauty of this corridor, and its choices."
There is a definitive, deafening buzz, it's LIFE, you can hear it now in the purity of this silence.

This cannot be contrived, so you open all of what was once you, to forcefully experience it.
You no longer feel your heart beat, only the rhythm of others, who like you choose raw existence over questions; which would only serve to break this incredible transition.

It's not from where you came,
or where you're going.
It's stationary simplicity, and everything
seems to move with you, not around you,
almost through you.

Leaving reflective vibrations which resonate not to be felt,
not listened to, but understood, not explained, remaining a ripple generating outwardly without pause, without cause.
"Please don't explain me, don't expose me."
In this silence it's truthfully the loudest.

Sailing the mystic omnipresent seas,
on a craft made of dragonfly's wings.
Tacking across the magical breeze,
caused by songs that the sirens sing.

Weathered and worn by infinite tides,
holding lines made of eternal foible.
The warrior's blade like a rudder she rides,
in a sheath made of filigreed sable.

Virulent flow of futurity's pandemic,
vibrant waters fertile subtle surreal.
Ephemeral beings translucent endemic,
purveys omnipresent augur's appeal.

The starlit sky imbues waterfall's mist,  
myriad creatures seek eternity's mantra.
Vivid delineations of artistry's gist,
seeking virile omnipotent yantra.

Celestial heights where eagles traverse,
soaring and gliding we learn to fly.
Must life be terminal we say of terse,
whilst composing music to make angels sigh.

Sailing the mystic omnipresent seas,
on a craft made of dragonfly's wings.
Tacking across the magical breeze,
caused by songs that the sirens sing.

Weathered and worn by infinite tides,
holding lines made of eternal foible.
The warrior's blade like a rudder she rides,
in a sheath made of filigreed sable.

Virulent flow of futurity's pandemic,
vibrant waters fertile subtle surreal.
Ephemeral beings translucent endemic,
purveys omnipresent augur's appeal.

The starlit sky imbues waterfall's mist,  
myriad creatures seek eternity's mantra.
Vivid delineations of artistry's gist,
seeking virile omnipotent yantra.

Celestial heights where eagles traverse,
soaring and gliding we learn to fly.
Must life be terminal we say of terse,
whilst composing music to make angels sigh.

night falls.   space slackens.
falling into common placeness, the realness
     of quotidian moon.

    .

 a love for the metastasis of minutiae.
  a hand on the cold **** pale like the dead.
  the tombs of fingernails. creases for
   delineations of Earth. clenched, evening.
      unloosened, bare as morning.
    hand in hand, twilight.

    .

  outside the house, a figure.
  things stir in the persistence of silence.
  the flagrant irony of hearing cacophonies.
     a part of the world that becomes a kin.
   say, without light and the dimensions of
     things, no shadows display in grayscale.
 listening to the cancer of the avenue:
   the continuing  tachycardia in the edge
      of things. things that pulse or flatten.
     the mind, in your passing. the heart in your passing.  respect this chronology.

     likened to the metaphor of beginning
  an immediate and forever turning of the body when trouble meant togetherness,
   and  consolation, simply remembering.

  .

there is a deconstruction in sleep.
   the alterable garment of dream. or a flower
  revealing its inflorescence.
  the blackred hemograph of petals, the accuracy of thorns, the tabulated geography
    of its stillness - something it that does not completely practice.  the constancy of the wind    breaks its mimesis.

   .

outside your house again. the undesirable quake in the monotony of your dog, Oliver, chained to the stilt of the house that does
     move anymore.

  the absolute quiet of the street foreshadows the variegated Dieffenbachia.
   the color of my palm, starting to green.

   i could be anything within your presence
     as the moon intensifies the plunge.

Fertile earth’s seductive sorcery
Like ephemeral effulgence’s effluent effusion
Can lead you to believe that it’s not a travesty
Like life’s visceral intuitive eternal is not lost in subtle evasive confusion

Life’s virile translucence reflects this glow
Like an aorist ensemble of interludes transposition
Can lead you to believe that you’re in the know
Like omnipresence presages omniscience’s ubiquity is existential exigency’s peroration’s exposition

Corporeally preternatural's metaphysical mystique
Like a mirador bartizan tableau panorama
Can inspire us to rise above its critique
Like spatiotemporal’s telemetry incarnate is creation’s vivid intrepid cyclorama

Spectral verve’s liaison’s consortium
Like eclectic synectics' conclave’s fatidic
Can leave you lost in germane compendium
Like terminus thrall’s apriori inclination is transcendental accession’s endemic mnemonic

Monad’s transitional majestic splendor
Like residual harmonic vibration’s resilience
Can autonomously evoke and vicariously render
Like rubato’s actuator’s prospectus revealed is orchestration rendition’s intriguing brilliance

Eidetic preterit’s aesthetic amendments
Like protractive analyses’ dimensional delineations
Can lead to cogent salacious enticements
Like phantasmagoria’s fantasia fantastication’s magniloquence is sultry solace’s ostentatious ideation

Distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness, existentially transcendental's clairaudience clairvoyance.  Metaphysical mystique’s  evolutionally metamorphic futurity's fatidic incarnate.  Due yesterday’s retrospectively retroactive.  Protractive analyses' dimensional delineations.  Enigma entity’s dexterously tactile acuity and coordinated agility on the identity crisis.  Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix to synaptic syntax semantics.  Prospectus perplexity surreally sublime.  Quagmire quandary’s poshly plush.  Who am I to think I can conception of the infinite supply?  Even the syntactics of eclectic synectics pale by compare to the atrociously impetuous impudence in pugnaciously audacious.  Impromptu innuendo's juncture.   Imagination’s immaturities are psychic clarity’s entelechy to evolutional tenants élan vital.  Fiduciary principle's financially responsible fiscal policies.   Mercenary mendacity's plenary plenipotentiary.  Innocuous noumenal verity, mystic symbiotic’s chicanery dynamism fealties.  Proximity parameter’s perimeter peripherals, vicinity victuals to vigilante villain,   propinquity habitation’s harbingers of harangued.  The question remains on the tribal:  how can I stand next to the person I’m standing next to if I’m carrying on right through them.  It’s the trajectory extant in spatiotemporal's telemetry tactician.  Well graspy greedy on the stingy frugal to mingy minion and paw flaw laws claws on it.  Get a glove, objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iota’s of self-inductive interstitial extrapolation.  Detinue perfective.  Traveling down this obtusely overt contusion in my vehicular contrivance convection convolution.  Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s aura roan to rainbow mare.  Unicorn railway nails.  Swarthy ******* swath swizzles on the sweaty swelter swerve to verve.

Sailing the mystic omnipresent seas,
on a craft made of dragonfly's wings.
Tacking across the magical breeze,
caused by songs that the sirens sing.

Weathered and worn by infinite tides,
holding lines made of eternal foible.
The warrior's blade like a rudder she rides,
in a sheath made of filigreed sable.

Virulent flow of futurity's pandemic,
vibrant waters fertile subtle surreal.
Ephemeral beings translucent endemic,
purveys omnipresent augur's appeal.

The starlit sky imbues waterfall's mist,  
myriad creatures seek eternity's mantra.
Vivid delineations of artistry's gist,
seeking virile omnipotent yantra.

Celestial heights where eagles traverse,
soaring and gliding we learn to fly.
Must life be terminal we say of terse,
whilst composing music to make angels sigh.

Fertile earth’s seductive sorcery
Like ephemeral effulgence’s effluent effusion
Can lead you to believe that it’s not a travesty
Like life’s visceral intuitive eternal is not lost in subtle evasive confusion

Life’s virile translucence reflects this glow
Like an aorist ensemble of interludes transposition
Can lead you to believe that you’re in the know
Like omnipresence presages omniscience’s ubiquity is existential exigency’s peroration’s exposition

Corporeally preternatural's metaphysical mystique
Like a mirador bartizan tableau panorama
Can inspire us to rise above its critique
Like spatiotemporal’s telemetry incarnate is creation’s vivid intrepid cyclorama

Spectral verve’s liaison’s consortium
Like eclectic synectics' conclave’s fatidic
Can leave you lost in germane compendium
Like terminus thrall’s apriori inclination is transcendental accession’s endemic mnemonic

Monad’s transitional majestic splendor
Like residual harmonic vibration’s resilience
Can autonomously evoke and vicariously render
Like rubato’s actuator’s prospectus revealed is orchestration rendition’s intriguing brilliance

Eidetic preterit’s aesthetic amendments
Like protractive analyses’ dimensional delineations
Can lead to cogent salacious enticements
Like phantasmagoria’s fantasia fantastication’s magniloquence is sultry solace’s ostentatious ideation

If one considers the tesseract  as a worm hole that gets stronger as it traverses the distance traveled time spent to become the clairaudience clairvoyance of astral projection’s existential extremity……..I mean like what is the nature of  exigence exodus’s exponentially extemporaneous.  I mean given that  infinite possibility is the nature of omnipresence’s omniscience and we are but a refractively reflective embodiment  of its integrable form’s extant:   the residual harmonic vibrations of kinetic supremacy’s trajectory.  
        
So I ask again “Is intellectual sentience the catalyst for the evolution of God?”  Perhaps if we all practice zoomorphic zoolatry on the social contiguities of demagoguery the vicarious recalcitrance of its objectified manifest's dimensional delineations will raise us all to new heights of enigmatism.  
      
But no, we are but relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity.  We’re not capable of transmuting  our environment with the imbue in the exude of our emote, despite the concoctions we xenobiotic prosthesis.  We are incapable of interceding en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit.  We don’t amount to the seven five six-y on it to eight.  We are more the four-ness of three given the two-y-ness of one.  The 3D macro of the fecundity of micro’s induction's fertilities.


I submit:  
  
“Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to its progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to its innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of its conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of its relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.”  

And

“As the relative complexity of its interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of its conjunction yet the totality of its ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .”

And

Given the theory of ultimate entropy and the probable cyclic nature of existence……and given that there probably was no beginning so therefore an eternity has already passed, ”I have a theory: This spatiotemporal fecundity, this creationism occurs at such an imperceptible rate that positive eons of quadrillions of ages must pass in order for the cosmos to replenish its stockpile of physical matter (possibly matter without atomic structure as we know it) so that a new cycle of infinite big bangs in infinite space can occur.”


       Yes, it seems that basic gravity has extent on the extremity.  Huge sections of it slowly implode until the compression causes a singularity, or so it would seem.  Who knows, perhaps some of these big bangs have different periodic tables than ours.  I mean why would they all be the same, given that infinite possibility is the nature of omnipresence’s ubiquity.  
      
I like to think I cerebral cortex ****** matrix resemble but there’s a vast difference between relative rationality and rational relativity.  Noumenal sentience’s semantic regalia is incorporeity ideology’s platonic proxy incarnate for after all what is the nature of problematic prosthesis to mystic symbiotics?  
      
Protractive analyses of dimensional delineation are in order.  The basic fecundity of spatiotemporal telemetry’s virility had an exogamy with the infinite vastness and the inky blackness.  It’s some pretty inimitable stuff, trajectory extant and all.  
      
So, back to the tesseract perhaps the creativities of imagination’s immaturities are teleportational  translucence to transcendency  verve.  Then again perhaps we are corporeally preternatural finites and adjunctly  juxtapositional is beyond our metaphysical mystique………I like to think not!!!  Tesseract.

Although we can personify beings with metaphysical prowess, (objectified manifest's dimensional delineations),can we touch others or even ourselves with these extrapolations?  Is zoomorphic zoolatry's demagogueries on the social contiguity a proper solution.  I mean how the clairaudience of astral projection.  One would tend to think that proximity's parameter's opaque opulence would tend to take precedence over the exponentially extemporaneous nature of trajectory extant's physical location.  It's the corporeally preternatural facts to exude when you consider the space it occupies.  Noumenal sentience's semantics infer a spatiotemporal telemetry tactician.  It's the identity crisis facts, and yet we conception feel an affinity for our surroundings.  This might tend to implicate that the evolution of psychic clarity's mystic symbiotic's were irrefragably fecund.  Ethology's entelechy to apotheosis élan vital's apotropaic.  Transcendental accession's ascension is translucently  transpicuous.  Retrospectively retroactive revision an inevitability.  All that was will be forever and all that could be will become, not that this guarantees a positive outcome.  We're fractal.

I have no outline ...
  ...no routine inclinations
No pattern I could...ever
    Draw out any delineations
From the footfalls
Clacking
In dwindling oppression
Subject of occlusions
Long ,tall or deep
Ever crowding
In effortless blocking
What memories fight to keep!!

I look at you, and you are so pristine as a marvelous mirror
I just want to rub my hands across your sensational surface
Lick you up and down, staring intensely into your soul
Persistently touching you, imbuing you
With my luscious language of passion
Our extraordinary eyes unite, our lips seek supreme fulfilling
Our touches are electric, our flesh blossoms like an intriguing butterfly
I pull you closer to me so you can’t escape

I wrap my arms around you like a long, green, and great snake
I embrace you tightly, squeeze your nice, tight ***
Let my fingers travel up your back, feel you shake sensually
I kiss you pleasingly, sink into your supremeness
The distinguished delineations of your face as I place
My fingers on your splendiferous beard
My tongue twirling upon your cheeks and inside your ears
Finessing the fractions of your foundation
The inner depths of your time
The astonishing tautness of your body

I want to nuzzle your nucleus with mine
Let our molecules mingle, enthuse you
With my fluidly powerful and smooth moves
Evanesce into your prepossessing galaxy of perennial pleasures
Making love to you lecherously
Traveling faster than ever into the light of your invitingness