Very unlike
the Father
the Son
and the Holy spirit

Three crowns
bond in the act
of siphoning
exploiting
and palm-greasing
the National cake

Scratching
each others back
Leaving the detritus
to the detriment
of the mass plebs

Yet like
the Father
the Son
and the Holy spirit

Three in one
Demi-gods
of our democracy.

why is everyone so ******* sensitive these days? Brine Kaiser? die Norden Kaiser? well, Tsar and Fuhrer taught them well... the Brits want to smoke the Poles out in providing a narrative... the empire is gone... gone gone gone... i'm just curious... why is everyone so sensitive these days? personally? i obstruct any point of monotheistic orthodoxy with the Malachi heresy of the concept of reincarnation... Christianity doesn't and Islam doesn't really bother me... Harry Enfield said enough to counter: said as much; if ever you were looking for the perfect cloning mechanics, i'd look at Christianity and Islam... god... using these words in any rational discussion can make anyone and everyone seem so ****** barbaric.

you already heard of the Hebraic version
of democracy *ecce **** - in Christ, and thus said:
in the outer-Roman conquerors or Yiddish
and Holocaust -
the twisted Hindu doctrine -
thus the crowd bellowed -
and thus, the crowd, received -
to what waking hour are
we to be woken to in fear?
as this fear, perpetrates to be
heard and resound in profoundness?
or hath no Jew a clue
as to weave an answer?
                       except that concerning
Palestine?! then so be said: as
it would be done -
                         or keeping
to a polytheistic doctrine
at its centre Malachi's reincarnation mantra -
then too spat on,
rejected,               admonished -
             then by equal cure: also
done unto by equating measure;
for i have no cherry to cherish
in the suburbs of Jerusalem,
as i have no figs to break Ramadan with
to suit a Muslim -
            both to me both are deservedly walled in -
and inclined to take each other's lives -
                 and should be entombed
in their jealousy of heated dispute -
both are worth the wall,
with one wall the Jews built to encode
an exclusion of Arabs, then i, with a second,
exclude the Jew with Arab,
and a second wall, beginning with
the Ottoman and ending with the Saudi -
there: each rat to eat his own...
and learn monotheism as if he were learning
cannibalism;
anyone with other lessons reside here: and the future
of that region is spared in retaining the present...
leave 'em to it, like rat eating rat in
a tomb of awaited death...
                  leave them, to it:
just so i can hear the peasant eat the rabbis
of quickened-tongues when they start dressing-up
    to a spectacle: authority of dress from imam
and rabbi... authority of dressing up,
never, never, the learning curvatures of what
expansion: in the beginning was the word: reason -
   or the one who didn't dress-up
              in fancy dress, but made eloquent
his reasons, and the impersonal god -
                       the pepper in the arses of the crowd:
as said: ants in my pants and i was about to say: termites:
'cos i was woody Allen and a full-bloodied ****...
        come north, come north,
they came north... what attacked the Romans
they thought wouldn't attack them; oh gee... it did.
brick them up together, them along with the Palestinians,
i want the Saudi reaction... they're rich enough
to give me one; if they don't? i'll ask the Bangladeshi
slaves who built the Dubai tower about how one fares
in the desert.

our skyline is hazed
and our system a maze
the streets are lined with
blood
and all you see is mud

you, political giants
billionaires in chairs
pretending like you care
when all you do is claim its "fair"
your lying to the poor
as they die on their kitchen floors

you are not above humanity
even in your mighty vacation house its insanity
who are you to say
that you are to pave the way:
you claim democracy
we see hippocracy

you cheat the poor
to get rich more
is it so hard for empathy
you arn't charged with a felony

your racism defines you
yet somehow they defy you
maybe as you bomb their land
and say you are here to save their band

look here, ******, can't you see
nothing is simply what i seems to be
how can you see fault in
when you can't even see past the color of skin

i guess in england i am marx... i spotted one victorian asset that leaves me gobsmacked... so if pedophiles are the lowest of the low in the crime pyramidal scheme... i can almost see it as those with melancholia and schizophrenia being like pedophiles... instead of proper treatment these people get the syringe filled with ridicule... the lowest of the low in the crime theatre are pedophiles while in medicine they’re the mentally ill. do you know how many marriages i’ve seen fail because of overcooked pasta?!*

it’s odd, the moment you realise the hebrew femininity
in stefan zweig’s biography of hölderlin,
it appears when scardanelli (pseudonym)
makes his gesture at the passing of napoleon,
schiller, beethoven, novalis, schubert and waiblinger...
its picturesque depiction of the ivory tower,
the piano the solace of solitude that eclipses
the solstice of congregational sanity so so animalistic
in the morse code platonism of s.o.s.
(what form is it? usually a sinking ship):
frequent flier requires company!
retired divorcee requires ping-pong partner!
oh the horror of such scenarios... never content
with one’s own company, are we?
too bad... i was about to write some satire...
i guess sarcasm will do...
zen buddhism is a perfect antidote for this:
stefan zweig laments the “loneliness” of the poet,
zen buddhism says: **** the world, let the lack of the world
fulfil you... isolationism tactic, purely pronoun related...
no dates to remember, no third party antics... no politics...
the voluntary beggar had more brains than the voluntary sacrifice,
it’s like: i can always go back to my honey abode
with the lineage of princes... or i can try and avoid crucifixion...
hmm... unbaked dough... what a lost will for choice!
no you see... zen buddhism makes this whole shunning the world
and interaction in it a positive...
on the no. 86 bus going to school i learned my first lesson
in non-constipated writing with a relative the sole eyes
of wounded pride avoided...
forget the world and let the world forget you.
works miracles... i live in a jamaican shanty town
and the whole ghetto is filled with me...
it’s the only world i desired and it desires me...
it’s not exactly tübingen...
the chance of an essex lad entering university
is quickly sentenced with the birmingham folk
at u.c.l. stating: we’ll crucify you for the accent!
the essex lad retorts: 'but that’s 200 miles from derbyshire -
what’s your point?!'
thank god i studied in edinburgh... i can keep an eye
on saxon politics from a stoic scot perspective without betting
on the winning horse...
if i went to london as “originally planned” i’d have dropped out
because the ******* are so pompous they hide their pomp
with protests: oh look... they brought the drums out with them too,
if i was serious about protesting about something i’d
look for knives and hammers... you know... the french reign of terror
democracy... forceful... i think they just read the memo
with a typo: bring ye conniving slogans and your cameras to lineage plot details
for social media outbursts!
you could never have proper statistics with television
programs... no we see them all the time...
the internet folk are really party-party orientated...
i can spot about 9 statisticians in a group of 10:
i.e. there's gucci trendy and there's pixxel trendy...
although in the latter sense you're cognitively naked...
and in the former sense you have to ask
someone for a deciphering specialisation
without flinging out the badge of honour that
reads: AUTHENTIC GUCCI TAILORED IN
SOMALIA BUT DESIGNED IN ITALY.

Very unlike
the Father
the Son
and the Holy spirit

Three crowns
bond in the act
of siphoning
exploiting
and palm-greasing
the National cake

Scratching
each others back
Leaving the detritus
to the detriment
of the mass plebs

Yet like
the Father
the Son
and the Holy spirit

Three in one
Demi-gods
of our democracy.

It is not a game of Hide and Seek
rather it should be considered at peak
Yesterday those were secular
today have become rightists
Amazing game is Indian polity
Having not any type of quality
Representative of more than thousand millions
have no any party loyalty
What role do you expect to play
from such members of parliament
Who change their loyalty
Every party promises laptop,cycle and cash type temporary toffee
But don't have firm plan to curb
unemployment, inflation and corruption seen in abundant quantity
Voters are helpless in selection of right candidates
Where there is self-interests clearly visible to their daily updates
It is for great indian voters to
learn them right lessons
To safeguard indian democracy
and Indian polity

sometimes you reveal a cognitive beehive, telegraphic notations: pleasing errors and a malignant internalisation of what democracy looks like in one man: voiceover canned laughter... i've only heard of two comedies without canned laughter - the royal family and the office... you know when you are permitted to laugh... rather than be fed the easiest way out... attributing a witty comedy with canned laughter devolves it from being a witty comedy... meaning mr. bean (jaś fasola, do re mi ti do) had more wit; because i want to laugh when i want to, not when i'm falsely told to as if i didn't understand the language i used and didn't find the canned laughter jokes utterly appealing to be unanimously convinced that they could take my stomach and put it on a torture rack of giggles.*

you have to turn into a child to decipher the patchwork of lies,
elijah had enough honour in him to have written
absolutely nothing, because he measured it out as:
they’re all trying to imitate moses’ style, and they’re
doing a very bad job at it,
my purely cognitive proof will send shivers down their spines:
and so it was.
the one thing that worries me about the greeks’ work
that’s the new testament, primarily...
the bit where judas becomes a slave dealer elevated from a thief...
so did jesus shave his beard off and cut his hair to roman standard
(short) that he, one of the most famous people at the time in judea
be so unrecognisable as to require judas kissing him?
what’s up with that? i’m sure that walking on water
and feeding five thousand strong with five loaves of bread
and two fish... you would make an indent in the public consciousness
and which would make you easily spotted... even in an age without
selfies and passports to identify you... so what’s up with that?
another thing (apart from the fact that i learned
that bottled beer tastes better than canned beer)
is this bit about elevating men above angels,
with angels in islamic theory being creatures without free will,
i.e. robots... which ensures man slaughters cherishing a day
of reflection (the sabbath), and engages in a 24 / 7 capacity
to trade goods...
the bit where gabriel answers the feminine aspect of translating
woman to man and man to woman... was muhammad a woman?
christianity gave us... for ****’s sake singing eunuchs...
worse still it turned grecian homosexuality into perversity...
choir boys got fingered by a priest... it turned homosexuality
into pedophilic homosexuality...
and you know that interest kant had at the beginning of his career
with the theme of swedenborg or hegel’s with böhme -
it’s tiresome, mysticism is, i mean you get man elevated
above angels / robots turning men into robots...
you get the wings of angels clipped...
you end up with men without testicles (bloodhound gang’s
pink floyd pantomime - all in all, you’re just another **** with
no *****)... then due to the wings being clipped
you get angels attributed the status of saint...
st. michael, e.g., st. raphael...
and you begin to wonder... what if devaluing angels to the status
of saints encouraged the complex schizophrenic dialogue of
mohammad’s revelation to reach into this pocket of logic
and denote him as the angel michael, the warring angel...
given the current implosion of islam into a warring reformation?
obviously it’s ridiculous for the humanist and what not
in attempts to appear cool... and in there in the secular realm
a clear voiceferous voice of conformity with scientific standards
upkept is like a tennins ball against a brick wall...
but philosophy begins in awe and ends in paradox...
you can turn into a clown once in a while and appear to weep
with a smiley face make-up...
the diacritic use in german polish swedish etc.
is a disease in english, with its diacritical nakedness...
it’s a negation of ease for one reason: c u l8tr -
what the hell is that? lol... liquidation of lombards?
very unsettling to say the least...
as much as the french antifix, for example
le alésoir - the affix is apparent because the “hyphen”
over the e  stressor is pointing east...
but an example where the “hyphen” over the e
points west... the thus mentioned e eats everything that
comes after, thus becoming an antifix, e.g. excè(s)
thus the use of diacritic marks also act as syllabled segregation
into compounds of timing pronunciation:
much more than the english expression of tomato
and the american expression of potato;
sub-refernce from the title: gnoch'e - imperfect,
no wonder dyslexia exists...
even though the majority of people are literate,
the pre-existent spelling complications still favour
those who invented them and subsequently allowed
the all-pervading literacy for pawns.

it’s not that i hate film literary film adaptations, but only one adaptation made me want to read the book: stendhal’s the scarlet and the black (starring ewan mcgregor and rachel weisz).*

i don’t in a respective romanic auditorium
with toga donning senators
walking to egyptian flutes from the cleopatra’s entourage
gleaming old fames as to prove the pyramids
and sphinxes were above in the hierarchy of awe
to the iodine and hod on papyrus,
to give these localities the respectable aura of re-,
i take to hammock’s kenotic and burial’s untrue:
the former feeds the northern feel of autumnal london
suburbia and the latter the southern quarter,
but never mind that, it’s already minded and eerie.
i watched the screenplay adaptation of empire of the sun today,
i have to say, i was jerking up the thought
of salty rain rather than acid rain on the environmental
perfusion surprise - so i ****** a jamaican fake on the hopscotch bonnet
mascaraed on the eyes, or the romantic tears of cutting an opinion,
but honesty... honesty! three scenes made me push my
manhood away from the stench of molten iron of the army:
the was the protagonist sang the song of the kamikaze
just after they downed a shot of koji and started singing
just after doing the flap-your-hands-in-the-air-like-you-just-don’t-care
salutations of encouraged nihilism.
it’s the editing part of the film, how the boy’s voice overpowers
everything else and becomes “monotone” against all other sounds,
the dignity of the boy’s enviousness and admiration
for the kamikaze... even in captivity! by god, what a scene!
the other scene that haunted me to near tear
was when the prisoners entered the cemetery of hoarded
valuables by the japanese upon invasion of shanghai
and taking from notables the jewellery chandeliers and cars
(pianos too): after seeing the prisoners familial in captivity
exchanging cabbage heads for cigarettes
proving what the world would be like without the existence of money...
i thought of the familial “humbling” of the people in captivity,
and the sheer haunt of the same prisoners returning
to a world they so dearly lost - in that each to his own
piano and mercedes benz, that neo-tribalism of earn earn spend
frivolity and self-interest that democracy prescribes
allocating us each a tomb of fancies (and sometimes the odd *****).
but the most striking thing became apparent - in these
japanese prisoner of war camps... the prisoners didn’t wear uniforms...
i can understand if those in power adorn uniforms,
but the oddity of the prisoners not having uniforms is quite
positively giggly sinister... given the fact that the other sinisterness
is when there’s a prison camp and those in power
wear uniforms and those imprisoned are also tailored for.
i see a major libra of power in all this,
for if the prisoners are not tailored for denoting their collectivisation
as in status of prisoners... then there’s a certain freedom in all of it,
like on the grander scale, in society, where the politicians,
the overseers only wear suits and the communities differentiate
themselves with hawaiian floral tattoos on t-shirts and tourist slogan ones too:
it’s almost as if the ultimate leniency of power was being exercised
not having to wear prisoner uniforms in the japanese pow camps,
unlike the pinstripe ones of auschwitz - as some collectivisation
of guilt within ideological framework rather than the opposite:
wrong place at the wrong time.
the last tear i got? well the music on the credits reel pulverised
by the images of a son re-recognising his mother by touchy touchy.
conclusively? better on your mother’s *** and able to cook too
than on the cooking *** of a wife and with two left hands preferring
the hot topic of takeaway or restaurants - hunter gatherer died -
me belly full of berry - how is it that **** sapiens is also called
**** perderus awhile the tortoises saturated achilles with peace and thought
and no chance of martian glory telling him of zeno’s paradox?

I read today that they plan on patenting our DNA
Placing RFID chips deep inside the child's brain
So that when he grows older he will be tame
Now I don't know about you you or you
But I'd rather be dead than not free
Barbed wire cages with iron for bars
Under the guise of "security"
For the sake and safety of "democracy"
My hands are still shackled
Even though my feet shuffle on
Our children are poisoned by vaccines
Yet if you decline you are an unfit parent
Who are they to ******* say?
Where did our voices go?
Have we become consumed by consumerism?
Numb and blind to our basic instincts of survival
Toilet paper will be a luxury one day
Most will be crying in the bushes as they wipe their *** with poison ivy
Uneducated. Barely skilled. Their media sources corrupt.
I'll be in the woods hunting deer and building shelter
**I'd rather be dead than not free

Step 1: Legalize all drugs and treat their possession as a public health issue, as is practiced in Portugal

Step 2: Get all nonviolent drug offenders out of prison and (A) into treatment when dealing with harder drugs like ****/coke/****** (B) get the *** growers some jobs doing what they're good at, and watch as the extra tax revenues progressively revitalize both local and national economies. (1)

Step 3: Fill the new vacancies in the nation's prison system with the entire US government and the top 1% of income earners as  punishment for their hubristic crimes against nature and humanity.

Step 4: Forgive all debts and redistribute all of the assets of the aforementioned parties among the entire population, but especially the impoverished classes, to create socioeconomic balance.

Step 5: Decentralize the economy and rebuild it along the lines of federated, autonomous municipalities, based on common ownership of economic resources, free education and healthcare, and participatory democracy. Once this is done, we can let the former government and 1% out of prison. (2)

**Brought To You By: Homunculus For President (but not for very long, because being an authority figure would sort of contradict the entire essence of the society I just described) 2016

A torrent gushes from the serpent’s mouth
wave upon breaking wave; it’s ALL fake news
swiftly eroding what is left to lose.
Democracy’s waterlogged corpse drifts south,
a bloated mess; all waters to infuse
with putrefaction, thus to breed disease
uncivil war invades our fantasies;
the polarized extremes now pay their dues.
Propping things up: it’s what they do the best—
business as usual, pawns all occupied
in scaffolding facades upon the West
and sculpting the friezes of fratricide…
but underground, the currents cave away.
Media will fail; God brings a brighter day.

There once was a man named Newborn,
whom wandered curiosly across the Earth-torn
grasses, and the rocky roads,
and was henceforth known as the Caveman goes..

These petty caveman with their bronze
constructed wheels and without their brains
had been crushed by wheels without restrain
and learned by wrote and learned to change.

From wicked wheels of stone and mud
came Spartan swords and arrows above;
From wild shields and monstrous blood
bubbiling through these savage doves..

Soon aftarwards began slavery,
whence after the fall of democracy,
learn to make a shape, a Triangle,
in the hardest way a man could handle.

A wild amount of years later
began the mystic age; Far greater,
or therefore known as the Mideveal
whence Magic was; and Poetry primevil...

The skies had Darkened with the age
of the Renaissance, and gunpow'drish stage
had begun the ruins of mankind
when the fair and the bold had intertwined..

The raging fires of agriculture
were then consumed by rage and stupid folklore
of preposterous ideas spoken by man
that have led us to the industrial span..

Soon after this atrocity,
began a most hideous animosity,
for this is Truth, and truth to be,
So listen well, for chanting fell,
but lies not to Earth nor to Man or Sea;

Humanity! Ha! The road you go is vain!
The world you seek
and the powerful peak
will be mashed with Human's refrain!

Humanity! Fools! Interwoven dictators
that have futile power,
yet invoke us every hour
into their moderators..

This path of knowledge and Wisdom
is a lie, for their is no Kingdom
that man may make that is perfection
for we always face things like discretion,
and If man cannot learn to end these cycles wild
then surely our infinite powers will be set at 'Mild'.

Man; The wisest thing I have in my life yet to say
is that you forever will from side to side sway,
and if you cannot open to all
then surely you are destined to fall!

"Hypothetically,"  hypocrisy has become the new democracy.
Socrates once said "You must break free from society",
Admittedly, that is not a direct quote.

Woe, oh, no I do not believe in aligning my stars
with your sharp minded attitude that controls me from afar.
Hardships ahead suggest that you best let go of your
previously consumed ideals and feelings and repeal from
the concave society that begs us to encourage our propriety.

Sigh, it seems that this community of this city
is stuck in a trance and they do not wish to be disturbed.
Well I'm perturbed by that fact, yet I act like I understand
the zombie-like trance that has taken hold of all that are breathing,
Leaving only a few confounded by the monstrosity of this reaping.

Keep me here, away from the stagnant ailment that has
an arrant grip on the throats of the blokes that were
ignorant enough to believe that indiscretion.

True, it's become my obsession to call out all that is nonsensical.
It's apocalyptical! Their anonymity is frankly mystical.
Their words seem to be lathed with mechanical phrases and verbs,
again I'm perturbed and what's even worse, is I find myself intrigued by their complete lack of identity that I can't make sense of me.

See? It's a seductive prospect to attempt to project yourself into
that cult, but as a result all your visions of freedom will dither
and wither into nothingness.

Although, they're courteous enough to let you keep your vanity,
but the rest of you, all your thoughts of clean and lucid dreams, are
reamed from your mind, wound down to a soft and empty grind.

My, you really should ignite a morsel of self-respect to check out
of this direct fog that is hogging any last bit of intellect.
Dissect one thought from the other and then you'll wonder
how to crawl out of this ignorant hole that has
swallowed you down, consuming your soul.

Pull yourself away from their depreciating ways.
Reintroduce yourself to free will and thoughts
so you can be brought back to life and maybe even have
a deeply un-contrived and well-thought about thought.

Be wise, snap back into reality and let gravity do it's job.
Throb goes your heart.
Did you feel that? That puncture in your chest?
It's doing it's best to let you know that you're alive,
high with breath on your tongue and in your lungs,
Filled to the seams, light beams from your fingers.

Do not linger, here in this moment, rush to the surface
and escape the airless lies that are encrusting your soul.
Pull yourself up to the surface and allow yourself to be woken.

Broken you may be, but you can be renewed if you give yourself
permission to control your own admission.
So permise it and recommit to standing on your own two feet
and weep with joy at your eternal freedom.

This is where I leave you.
Alone with your lonesome self...
Relish in your new-found magnum opus,
let it give you focus to hone in on your blooming
and lucid, conscious brewing.

Keep it stewing.
Stirring to formalize your new ignition,
no longer is this a road to your perdition.
Ridden your thoughts, let your conformity rot
and let that *** stew all of your now, new
delectable thoughts.

Looking at treetops nose gasping for scent
Holds importance trophy gilded worth since
Carrying mellifluous leaves have lent
Flowers lack of breath, air inconvenience

Embarrassment fell swiftly towards you
As falling leaves do with radiant haste
Feel buried as ground beneath us doth grew
Solemnly, earth sighs beneath you, “WASTE”

Hands of yours once held mine, branches extend
Eyes locked in perpetual motion
Laws of time if only if they could bend
Remember when you once felt emotion?

Weakness lies in your treetop fallacy
Strength in thine own inner democracy

try gathering up the marbles with akua naru's the journey aflame, heidegger's ponderings ii - vi, and the sight of lost virginity in trees or at least their mortality to blossom reduced to skeleton... or lungs' alveoli.

there's an acute difference between hip-hop and rap...
hip-hop has the decency to acknowledge the sax...
sure the beat of rap is there: on-and-off,
but hip-hop has the table manners to spin
out a continuum from jazz, it has Darwinistic traits
to engage in a continuum...
rap is like rock when starting off from
scratch and not from pauper blues...
do you want words like kid, yeah,
   and other belittling babushka doll
verbiage? this is me, raw,
          god, the plight of constantly stating
authenticity... art and plagiarism
and that constant need to avoid the latter,
much claimed, much too little deviated from,
even on the altar of pains
from hernia (in my unconscious,
as a baby i had that: intestines out bulging),
acne beyond my teenage years: newspapers
say that it's dying out...
            my mother faked falling down
the stairs today...
               it's called bypassing the n.h.s. queue
off the medical bureaucrat that's the general
practitioner who chicken scratches prescription
and as all medical professionals: has
hands worthy of a butcher's, the only thing tangible
to the eyes as to the ear is the signature,
and that's everyone's Picasso moment.
         hip-hop? i can do drive-by shooting with
that ****, talk ******, talk:
      right now i'm surfing on concrete.
wait... orcs... what's female with that vinyl?
        niggerette? sure, Solomon swine talk
with Sheba from Ethiopia or wherever she was from.
  and the *german said that cultural politics is
the last remembered barbarism...
           some learn english and turn to identity pride
as if they didn't come out of an ant's exoskeleton
stating the menu: all mushy cushiony inside, boyo.
   2011 and we're still ******* that torpedo
that's the chainsaw crazy bulletin of: haircuts you
shouldn't endorse.
            so she faked it, ****, we all know that women
always began lying and men told too many truths,
at least women got a monopoly on what's to come
in d.n.a. tattoos... men ******* into science rather
than fatherhood... gamble here, gamble there...
      this paramedic didn't look the part,
esp. when he started talking, he wanted to shed off
his official attire of paramedic green...
   my mother? the lowercase blood pressure too
high from acting,
                            i don't bother about mine,
i'm drinking while she's in the hospital wanting a
c.t.i. scan... selfish or selfless? i have no antidote
for death's dynamic this afternoon,
   i just wish i was given the precursor insight into
all of this fake... wait... that's really personal...
anyway, this paramedic really hid his inner,
he bred parrots prior to... bombshell: breeding
snakes... pythons 5ft long, 400 or so in his aquariums...
i don't know where exaggerations begin or end,
but i asked him: poor eyesight, snakes.
yep, he taught his serpents to gulp up dead rats,
apparently 25K a year...
apparently snouting out of the shell doesn't
equal pecking out of it... t-rex in the sky
flying high... plop... out comes a ****** for lizard
and mr. birdie...
                    that's one way to appreciate lacks
to what's mammalian and tapeworm,
   hence that desire in woman to 'take this **** out of me!
take this **** out of me!' i understand the panic
                (Prometheus movie style),
    out comes a lizard in an egg, out comes a crow
out from an egg, and here we are, stomach-to-stomach
connect: needless to say, after 9 months parasitically born:
i can understand the panic, it's like being *****
for 9 months and eating strange combinations of foods:
doughnuts and cucumbers...
           i really don't understand this religious
implant that there's a person behind a forming-foetus
when there's still the diaper to come,
the weak bladder and the weak **** not yet formed,
the baby teeth to fall out... all of these physical
foundations and only then, the thought,
     and then after many more years and exposure
to democracy: a debate concerning a soul...
           and of course your interaction with the ****
thing to mould the insides...
             well, that's one side of the tale...
we all know that the other if filled with
conformity, pleasantries and babyshowers: what's
the great mystery there?
   ****... all i wanted to say is that birds are neo-lizards,
where the foetus and the ****** plop out
       from the female, and all that's left to do is sit
on an armchair and **** into it...
                    even i concede the point about
things being too stressful and too weird...
               but that's also about finding your cool...
               and thankfully... akua naru's album is as good
as it had to be... thankfully i can apply the rule-of-thumb
usually reserved for prog-rock albums...
that's an hour of my attention ****, gone,
   the better part of a magic trick entrapped in realism...
hardly that thing we know today: 3 minutes snap!
    3 minutes snap!      breaking points for the top 40
chart successes... i count listening to an entire album
a success primo:
   (concerning my mother? something happened prior,
it was as authentic as was required to get past
n.h.s. bureaucracy) -
            people get so panicky these days,
and not a single islamic extremist in sight...
odd: i take it that mortality is worth being considered
a boiled egg being juggled among hot coal...
   well, hip-hop isn't rap for the sole reason: jazzmatazz.

Nothing better than I chance to show you how I’ve froze over hell givin’ Beelzebub a chill,
Your fables hold little weight when you try to justify their existence as long as I continue dissect your deities,

Not that I am entitled but I can careless about how you explain yourself without the brain,    
I’ve been broken and forced to put the pieces back together because I’m not ready to embrace the oblivion without a say,
Without of a chance to reciprocate what you didn’t do for me,

I’m telling you to **** yourself till I fill in your grave,
Get ready son for your vacant destiny,
I’m done with the mental constraints of your needs,
I’m fed up with taking a beating for the ignorance that breeds,
Your about to bounce a check that will leave you dangled at the neck,

Not a threat but I didn’t oppress the armed of ancestral resistance,
That desk can’t keep you from the reach of those who believe in unconditional independence,
And you know why you walk a thin line,
It isn’t because of those nickels and dimes you earn overtime,
It isn’t because you drive home to a white picketed life full of lies,
It’s because you know if one of us grabs a mic we might turn to the tide, the next chapter of this species existence,
Making you extinct,  

You think daddy’s inheritance will let you pass any Bill,
But it only takes one to change the tone,
One to alter the course of ****** fostered governance,

Not suggesting a *****’s renovation,
Or an imperialist’s intervention,
But an interruption to this Nation’s corruption,

**** your principals, **** what your father’s told you,
It’s our turn to mend this debilitated democracy,
To end this domesticated atrocity,

So sorry not trying to foment insurrection,
Just asking the children to picket your legislative lickings,
The documents you pen in order to silence dissidence,
But I’m not going to fear old men with millions,

That ethnic group,
A tyrant,
Was not a democrat!

On our right
For long it had
Indifferently squat,
Our throat, mercilessly it
Was about to cut.

Now scenario's reversed
The rein of power
We have gripped,
Democracy we
Have introduced!

To the follies
It made in its heyday
It has to pay!
Come on, on it
Swing a stone
The dark days
Have gone!

Enchanted shore descendant
Branch upon the kapok tree
In forests of El Yunque
The coqui songs compelling me
To write of the Taino sol
Still burning to be free
From The Lion's sword that bled
The pages of our history

Stolen land attendant
Encomienda living property
From roots of our ancestral bones
Was grown the crown's economy
Then baptized in the crosses' greed
They cleansed us of our savagery
A genocide of cultures made
Them rich with inhumanity

Kept at bay our independent
Luminescent solidarity  
Then poured in streams of Lares cries
To fields of pure cane tyranny
Yet caverns of Camuy echoed
The fleeting winds of liberty
To tempest warships harboring
A hurricane democracy

By '98 dependent
In '17  a new decree
Final draft trenches fulfilled
The ballot box with empty
Then sharpened territory clause
Reconstituted colony
Campos prison cancer cell
Vieques poisoned casualty

Infecting the resplendent
Contagious hope of sovereignty
Pandemics of oppressions past
Injecting present poverty
Virulent exploitation plagues
Still draining veins systemically
Indebted to the parasites'
Uncommon wealthy travesty

What happened in Tuticorin is no less than a democide,
the state snuffing out lives whom it supposed to protect.
The reckless and depraved disregard for the lives,
brought out the ugly and monstrous side of the state.

The state is taking the lives of its own people,
to give 'ease of doing business' to its tycoon cronies.
To enable them to grab lands, flout environmental norms,
violate labour laws and to usurp the natural resources.

People gave up their lives and achieved martyrdom,
to protect the 'ease of living' of their fellow humans.
To let them have a breath of fresh air and a gulp of pure water,
and to enable them save their natural resources and environment.

Democracy is no longer ‘of the people, by the people, for the people’,
it got hijacked to become ‘of the 1%, by the 1%, for the 1%’.
The neo-liberal spaces ever expand and public spaces ever shrink,
till the society is transformed into an oligarchy, into a tycoon fiefdom.

Tycoons campaign finance the politicos to get ease of doing business,
people queue up and exercise their franchise to get bullets in return.
This is the time to reclaim our democracy and regain our lost power,
the only way out is democratic deliberation and political confrontation.

Let's set aside, cricket, soaps, celeb gossip, reality TV and selfies for a while,
and spare a thought for those who breathed their last fighting for our rights.
Let's make sure that the lives of those who fought for clean air won’t go in vain,
by showing that we are the masters and oligarchy is only their pipe dream.

just because your problems are bigger than mine,
doesn't qualify you as being
better than me;
but sure, we need apes, like we might encourage
buying stake at the butchers and
a quasi-Narcissus reflection in Darwin...
that's what happens when presupposing
someone's supposed idiocy, it happens
that way in democracy, without a autocratic godhead
of authority, many more are prone to being
prescribed madness, because being sadistic
with dementia patients and those disabled is all
that more rewarding than when a "patient" can punch
you back, ******-nose your face...
and this is how Christianity makes sense?
might as well call the adherents of Christianity
children wetting their beds and fuelled by a desire
to maim their fellow examples of the species...
Darwinism will not do... it's a farce...
the animals involved to a categorical grouping
would not do what humans do to each other...
so we evolved from monkey to escape the tiger
and the snake? i hardly think tigers or snakes killed
with sadism involved... for pleasure...
but if the sadistic impulse was always ours...
we evolved for no good reason...
i'd rather experience the hunger of the tiger
or the snake than experience the sadism of a fellow human being...
and that's a humanism, it doesn't invoke a god
or morality that should be kept...
i'd rather a tiger **** me for sustenance than some
trivial bog-standard thief from the London estate knifing me
for a ******* bike... i'd rather end up in a tiger's digestive
system than in the "evolved" court-of-law debating
bicycle theft -
animal-cohesiveness knows no sadism,
human-overpowering of animals knows everything
but humanism, hence the need for humanism per se,
poetry and a novel... we write poetry but at the same time
perform holocausts... if we are evolutionary products,
we are by evolutionary standards a successful paradox...
we contradict the pluses with the negatives we produce
subsequently... we have evolved / transcended
the original parameters... but we did so paradoxically;
i'd still rather die from a tiger easing my death
by the vampire-bite of my neck that
the exfoliation abiding with the electric chair or
the iron maiden... the author of the Bonfire of Vanities
got it wrong... we really did use our imagination...
we used imagination for the expression of torture...
Disney can do **** all than quack like a duck
to quiet simply approve the endemic continuance
of the practice... because most people will
simply apply for t.v. and come dine with me
spectaculars.

Do you argue your point
To argue for love
Or do you argue
Just because
Do you really care
For every American out there
What are you truly fighting for
Helping the millions poor?
Or are you morphing with society
Doing things unjustifiably
Our hypocritical democracy
A nation full of dishonesty
Soldiers dying left and right
Parents send their kids to school with fright
But all we care about are insignificant things
I’m told, “the ends justify the means”
A country full of hate
Keeping people out because of race
American is so blessed
But most are too obsessed
Many can’t even imagine
How a nation like us can have no compassion
We do not know others lives
For we walk vigilantly in our opportunistic thrive
So forgetful of where we’ve come
For a God whos love cannot be undone
To give back what he gave us
Something we always fail to discuss
We blindly became a nation
Who has no purpose for its creation
Future president, can you do it?
Will you help us get through it?
Maybe you can change it someday
Please. Change us back to who we were yesterday.

Looking at pain
From the inside out
Stepping off steep
Into an unknown, falling
Loose and tightly wound
At once
In one
Spinning straight-line lies
Wanting them to be true
From here to there exists
No mess between
No life
No humanity
No mess
Only simple
Straight-line lives
Like the heartbeats of our politicians

Got no room for deviation into mountains
Down to earth
Got no time for beats and bravery
Floating on in mediocracy
No, democracy
My mistake
Found a word and made it look
Like cool
Made it sound like hope
Made it work like ****
To cover up the sins of what was truth

Not pure or real
But what was on
Got hammering down
Got seeping in
Got on with getting on
Dig pocks in Devon and call it progress
Take chunks of the mama and look surprised
As she spits us all out from her centre
You, me and everyone who had no idea

Who sat behind their 5 mile screen and said
**** happens
When it was about the starvation

And said
More’s the pity
When it was about monstrosity

And said
Gotta be thankful
When it was about the tanks and the bombs and the guns
In some other guys garden

And screamed
What the **** is going on here
With tears and snot and terror all over their tan-stained brows
When the phone broke
And the plane was late
And the dog shat
And the restaurant ran out of hors de ******* oeuvres.

It’s a ******* sin, that’s what it is
To call yourself a restaurant and not have what’s on the ******* menu.

A ******* sin.

The world’s gone to ******* ruin.

Buy me Barrack Obama and let’s call it evens.

Sadness never signalled us a sign from the cosmos,
left us to decipher the bones of history in quest of omens.
Unheeded, despair overflowed us like a desert sand storm,
buried us in credit ennui and economic laissez-faire.

World leaders formed escalating groups, G-5, G-12, G-20,
still the banks camouflaged in oppressor's language,
invented derivatives against all uncertainty, save their own,
till Wall Street acquired the stench of backed up urinals.

Only when the desperate sallied into the world's streets,
emoting songs that gushered from the wells of outrage,
did rolling blackouts of democracy unearth the buried cities,
freeing a wind that whispers ruin in uncompromising sunlight.

Gobbing and thrashing
       To Jello Biafra,
Before your damascene conversion into
        Something from Kafka,
The feminist utopia -
        A left wing theocracy,
You should have read Forster's
   Two Cheers for Democracy,
With red dead Cortez
      In her little white coat,
Where only lunatics and women
     Bother to vote.
The boys get a mantra
    A three syllable jingle,
The reason he topped himself?
    The reason you're single?

i usually take susie (4 bottles of beer) for a walk
in the rain, take the hood off, and don
my long multichrome brown hair
as a samurai bun to watch it rain heavy again,
smoking a cigarette at a bus stop
with the 'no smoking' sign without a fellow
passenger to actually for my privacy and being intrusive.

they really did it!
i swear on my heart of a scout they did,
they got frightened by the masses,
and created a very empty celebrity caste of people,
easily recognisable twits,
when then remembered the population tsunami,
they panicked and created them,
actors foremost, the easiest way to spread the lie,
they did it, and faked us into believing that
all of us were recognisable,
well at least in the jungle a baboon was a baboon,
but in the human kingdom, the side-effect
was talent shoes, misguided the plumber
into becoming a singer...
i wish it stayed like it did, like it was still:
zdrowie na budowie, nie w mafii (
health on a bulding site, not in the mafia)...
but alas, one born every second in china,
and one born every minute in europe...
who's keeping count? the clock isn't...
it broke when attempting to clock formula 1
circuits... down to the thirtieth second of 0.001...
a nervous breakdown in mechanical terminology...
but they really, really, really did do it,
concerning the 3rd commandment...
they took the tetragrammaton and took it out
from censorship with adam & eve...
they said jesus christ jesus christ jesus christ
in vain... so much in the vein of empty
that they morphed vanity into blasphemy...
say an arrangements of words using the words
jesus christ and you won't be called vain,
but blasphemous... a bit like those terrorists in the
active sutra of gunning people down -
the takbir (allahu akbar) - the people are calling
me a blasphemer, but i call them empty...
who's winning? you say the magic words long enough
and in multitude of its porcelain antique worth
and it will become it... a bit like words like
sun, apple, worm, ******* et al. congregating
on the altar of philosophy with the equivalent
communicative word of *thing keeping them in its
*****... the 3rd commandment means don't use
my name a lot, i'm busy, i'm a supra-verb
(always busy), keep naming with the atomists...
but then you misguided the term vanity,
and changed it to mean brimming to the edge
as a way to state a blasphemy...
when a vain use of a god's name becomes meaningless
due to overuse... it becomes a blasphemy to use it...
the hebrews rarely use what's already censored
like in christianity the words **** & ****...
ooh... we are convinced of being offended!
you offended me already... you censored words
and only came up with statues of squares...
ask the mathematicians... they drew a square quicker
than you moulded one for trafalgar sq.
the 3rd commandment does not mention anything
about being blasphemous about the name,
it means using it to use it to no gain...
meaning that the name is empty...
i guess moses and elijah also had the greek surname
christ attached to them.

*your blasphemy is the ultimate curse / vanity,
it's so empty when you use it,
it makes using other words feel cardinal,
and you the bishops still use them,
it's easy creating a religion from a child's gift
later lost and gained as a cross...
catholicism is the ultimate theocratic democracy,
where the non-existence of the thus state
allows for symbolic identifiable bureaucracy...
you used those words in vain...
thus you entered the 0.1 realm of blasphemy...
the christians are on the realm 9.9...
because they use the words jesus christ in vain,
and thus blaspheme in order to censor
their vocabulary... thus making casual words
seemingly unholy, even with all the science
concerning their concentrated apple juice cartons.

So we're all free, eh? If you start thinking outside the box,
Going against societies grain, then you are snuffed out,
Never heard from again. You can "whine and moan" all you want,
But you'll soon be cancelled out, bad manners are a fine reason
To throw you into the frenzied crowd.

Freedumbs indeed

Your days of voicing your thoughts are through, they've "solved
Everything" by letting laws even go into motion that simple sanity
Can disprove. These laws they always pass, your voice is never heard,
Democracy manifest's evil will soon turn your life over to the birds.

Peace got clothes to wear
that are called democracy
and are also worn by others

doppelgangers on the stage
of the power that they serve
as an extra or a puppet

It's an easy role
but in real life it is great
self-control and a matter

of patience to understand others
and to convince each other
of a public interest

This is how the Great Law
of Peace works along the Panther Lake
and the Sparkling Water

listening and consulting
without ventriloquism
or indelicate word

i wait all weak for the newspaper sections i read to arrive,
the magazines of sat. and sun.,
the style section, the culture section, and the news review,
things that matter to be honest.*

i wonder why people want brave ethnicity,
they want the long ships the arabs do
listening to viking metal,
the vikings want peace and quite,
but with global capitalism
and the defunct national socialism:
if only the jews weren't involved
the single pathology, all those able and nimble,
we get no ethnic bravery,
we only get citizens and astronauts,
the only exploration geography is empty and vast
space, and since we're using fossil fuels
we're exploring and destroying at the same time,
like the olden days: plunder and pillage mechanics,
but we're waiting for the other exploration
dynamic, where almost everyone is involved:
turn an autocrat to be paired with a tsunami
or an earthquake and you get panic,
pair the tsunami / earthquake with democracy
and you still get panic...
pair it to a theocracy and you get theories
like evolutionary history with the time scale all
too wobbly extending too far, people
think of gooey eggs easy in 5min,,
but monkey to man in 5 minutes - where's
the adaptability issue concerning?
the darwinian per se dislodges man's
adaptability concerns - historically it was going
to be either Stonehenge or the Giza pyramids,
darwinism dislodged man's adaptability
to future concerns by favouring debate of past truth
and whether mathematically speaking:
the geometric beginning of x, y, z, was
a will to live from the standpoint of (0, 0, 0),
denial of denial creates a propeller, kantian
given 0 = negation.
instead of being as darwin stressed evolutionary beings,
we've become historical beings,
with 24h news reels, with celebrity culture,
trying to piñata nazis... japan conquering with karaeoke
singing... loss of story telling...
with intellectuals trying to pinpoint and in an arena
of plagiarism agree a historical date
where dialectics is impossible... because something
is cited, circa, and the circa defines one person being
wrong and the other person being right...
evolutionary analysis made us so overcome by our history
we're trying to live a single day out,
but in 24h news reels no important historical event will take
place... i call it historical insomnia...
as a scot might say: eh maytee,
       das est shovel of ***** (linguistic allegory: shy kite)!

a body in
the rotunda lay

in state for
all to see

ideals displayed
in drab repose

a nation on
its knees

we can’t
believe

what eyes
behold

mute tears
stain blighted
faces

the Capitol just
a corpse filled
tomb

democracy
a mouldering
grace

Edvard Grieg:
Aase’s Death

Oakland
11/22/13
jbm

How did we get to where we are,
America - the one undimming shining star,
A land of freedom, of unbounded pride
Where no one needed run and hide
For their religion or mere thought,
Democracy - the very heart of what was taught.

Now the Media drums a beat
That too many rush to heed,
Politicians seem at war
Spewing discord to their core,
Division their concocted art
Wrenching the rest of us apart.

Pressure groups with voices loud
Control the stage as if endowed,
We the masses listen stunned
Outmaneuvered and outgunned,
All too late we see the light
As our cities fall to blight.

Police leaving by the score,
Inner cities full of gore,
Death and Drugs partners in crime
The serial killers of our time,
Those we elect wringing their hands
Caving in to shrill demands.

Social media runs amok
Trampling discourse in it's muck,
Faceless voices spewing hate
Leaving victims to their fate,
Pervading every corner of our life
Their tool of choice inciting strife.

Is it too late may we well ask
To tear apart this vile death mask,
Restoring that for which our father's fought
A way of life worked for and not bought,
The very fruit of land well sown
The purest form of liberty our world has ever known.