Dear Poet Friends, Torin Galleshaw from Charlotte NC, a Member of this Site, had requested me to compose about the Rise of Third *****. Therefore, I have commenced with the causes for its Rise in my Part One posted below. Planning to compose Part Two with ******’s Blitzkrieg campaign of Poland later. It is unfortunate that I am unable to post related Maps & Photos for better appreciation of my Readers! Such options are not available for us here! However, I have managed to post a copy with maps & photos in the E-mail ID of my friend Torin!  Kindly give comments only after reading this researched work of mine, during your spare time.  Thanking you, - Raj, New Delhi.

            STORY OF SECOND WORLD WAR – PART ONE
                            RISE OF THE THIRD *****
                                       By Raj Nandy

                                  INTRODUCTION
In this part I shall mainly deal with the causes leading to the Second World War,
Which had also created favourable conditions for the rise of Third ***** under ******.
The word ‘*****’ derives from old German word ‘rihhi’ meaning ‘realm’;  
But is also used to designate a kingdom or an empire in a broader sense.
Historically, the First ***** was the Medieval Holy Roman Empire which lasted till the end of the 19th Century.
While the Second ***** was the First German Empire from 1871 to 1918, when dynamic Otto Von Bismark had united all of Germany,
Which ended with its defeat in World War One and birth of the Weimar Republic.
The Third ***** refers to the **** German Empire under ******, Which lasted from 1933 till 1945, for twelve traumatic eventful years!
Historians opine that the ending of a war is equally important as
its beginning;
Since the causes for the start of a war is often to be found embedded in its ending!
The First World War came to an end on 28th of June 1919 as we all know.
With the signing of the Treaty at Versailles by the German Foreign Minister Hermann Muller and the ‘Big Four’.  (Britain, France, America, & Italy)
Yet it is rather ironical, that this Peace Treaty of Versailles, considered as President Woodrow Wilson’s ‘brain child’,
Had sowed the seeds of discontent resulting in the outbreak of the Second World War, and Adolf ******’s dramatic rise!

Though several causes are attributed for the outbreak of the Second World War by our Military Historians.
Let me try to summarise those causes which are considered to be more relevant.
Commencing with the harsh Treaty of Versailles, the British and French Policy of Appeasement, followed by Hyperinflation and the Great Depression of 1929, and failure of The League of Nations to maintain peace;  
Are relevant factors which collectively combined resulting in the outbreak of the devastating Second World War, scarring human memories for all time!
But not forgetting ******’s forceful and persuasive eloquence which mesmerised the Germans to rise up as a powerful Nation once again.
Since ****** promised to avenge the humiliation faced by Germany following the Treaty of Versailles,
Which was drawn up with vengeance, and dictated by the victorious Allies!

THE  ARMISTICE  AND TREATY OF VERSAILLES:    
Armistice means a truce for cessation of hostilities, which provides a breathing space for negotiating a lasting peace.
Now the Armistice ceasing the First World War was signed inside the railway carriage of the Allied Supreme Commander Marshal Foch, in the Forest of Compiegne,
On the 11th of November 1919, sixty km north of Paris, between the victorious Allies and vanquished Germany.
But in the meantime naval blockade of Germany had continued, and the German Rhineland was evacuated and partly occupied by the combined Allied troops!
Release of Allied POWs interned civilians followed subsequently; And the Reparations Clause of monetary compensation was strictly imposed on Germany!
Now, following a wide spread German Sailor’s Revolt towards the end of October 1918, Emperor Kaiser Wilhelm-II had abdicated;
And on the 9th of November Friedrich Ebert, as the new Social Democrat President of Germany, authorised his representative to sign the Compiegne Armistice.
We should remember here that this Armistice seeking cessation of hostilities did not stipulate any unconditional surrender;
And the signing of the Armistice by the German Social Democrats, was considered as ‘a stab in the back of the German army’ by majority of the Germans!
These issues get repeatedly mentioned by Adolf ****** in his eloquent speeches subsequently,
To arouse the spirit of German Nationalism, and resurgence of the ‘Master Aryan Race’ of the Germans, - in Germany!

The Versailles Treaty was signed on 28th of June 1919, exactly five years after the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand which had sparked World War One.
Let me mention few aspects of this Treaty which was detested by the Germans!
Germany lost 13% of its land, 12% of its people, 48% of its iron resources, 15% of its agricultural production, and 10% of its coal, following its implementation!
German army was reduced to 100,000 men, its Navy reduced to 36 ships with no submarines, its Air Force banned, and its union with Austria forbidden.
Now to use a Shakespearean phrase the ‘unkindest cut of all’ came in the shape of Article 231,  the ‘War Guilt Clause’ of the Versailles Treaty,
Which provided the legal basis for the payment of war reparations by Germany.
The reparation amount of 132 billion gold marks (US $33 billion) to cover the civilian damage caused during the war, now had to be paid by Germany!
Thus the humiliation, resentment, and the virtual economic strangulation following the Versailles Treaty,
Was exploited by extremist groups such as ******’s **** Party.
And in the decades to follow, ******’s Nazis would take full control of Germany!

NOTES: Following Versailles Treaty, Alsace-Lorraine captured by Germany in 1870 was returned to France. The SAAR German coalfield region was give to France for 15 yrs. Poland became independent with a corridor to the sea dividing Germany into two. Danzing, a major port in East Prussia, became a free city under the League of Nation. Finland, Lithuania, Latvia, & Czechoslovakia became independent. Industrial area of German Rhineland, forming a buffer zone between Belgium &France,was
demilitarised.

WOODROW WILSON’S  14 - POINT PEACE INITIATIVE  & THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS:
American President Wilson was an idealist and a visionary, who in a speech to the US Congress on 8th Jan 1918,
Introduced a 14 Point Charter as a platform for building global peace, based on the principles of transparency, self-determination, and Democracy.
But for the first time in US history, the Republican-led US Senate rejected this Peace Treaty, and prevented America from joining the newly created League!
The US Senate wanted to retain its sovereignty without external entanglements;
Free from the League of Nation’s political dictates in its foreign commitments!
The Irish immigrants refused to support Wilson's Fourteen Points because Wilson was concerned about stopping WWI, rather than forcing the British to set Ireland free.
Many Jews also refused to back Wilson, since he was paying too much attention to the War, and not enough to the Balfour Declaration of 02 Nov 1917, -
Which promised an Independent Jewish State with a distinct Jewish identity.

The League of Nations had emerged from Wilson’s 14 Points on the 10th Jan 1920, with its HQs at Geneva, Switzerland, but it had no peacekeeping forces those days!
The League had failed to prevent invasion of Chinese Manchuria in 1932 by Japan;
Italy’s invasion of Ethiopia in 1935; annexation of Sudetenland and Austria by Germany!
The Axis countries Germany, Italy, and Japan, withdrew from the League subsequently.
Thus the League of Nations was disbanded in 1946 officially!
But President Wilson’s ceaseless efforts for global peace did not go unrecognised,
Since on the 10th of December 1920, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize!
While his disbanded League of Nations, as the first global humanitarian organisation,
Continued to survive in spirit with the establishment of United Nations Organisation on the 24th October, 1945.

ECONOMIC CAUSES - FOLLOWED BY THE GREAT DEPRESSION OF 1929 :
Germany emerged from the First World War with loss of 25,000 square miles of territory;
Loss of seven million inhabitants, and a staggering debt imposed by the Versailles Treaty!
The Wiemar Republic, after abdication of Emperor Kaiser Wilhelm-II  to Holland,
For the first time in German history, established a Democratic Constitution with Friedrich Ebert as its first President.
But The Republic first had to consolidate itself by squashing the Spartacist Revolt of January 1919 led by the extreme Leftists, and inspired by the Russian Bolshevik Communists!
The Freikorps, in March 1920, an Ex-Soldiers Rightist Group, tried to overthrow the Wiemar Republic with support of their Rightist allies and their own veteran troops!
This was soon followed by a Communist attempt to takeover of the Industrial Rhur;
But fortunately, all these uprisings against the Republic were effectively subdued!
But the 33 Billion Dollars of Reparations hung over the Wiemar Republic like the legendary ‘Sword of Damocles’, followed by the Great Depression of 1929;
Coupled with the ‘Policy of Appeasement’ practised by the British and the French;
Became the most important causes for ******’s expansionist ambition and his short- lived meteoric rise to fame!

GERMAN PAPER CURRENCY & HYPERINFLATION:
Gold Mark was the currency used by the German Empire from 1873 to 1914 only.
But to pay for the costs of the ongoing First World War, Germany suspended the gold standard, and decided to fund the war by Borrowings entirely,
Hoping to pay back the loans after Germany achieves Victory.
But having lost the war, and faced with a massive debt imposed by the Allies,
Exchange rate of the Mark against the US Dollar steadily devalued and declined!
Papiermark became the German currency from 04th August 1914 onward, when link between the Mark and gold reserve was abandoned,
In order to pay for the ongoing expenses of the First World War with paper marks, which was constantly being printed!
But later after the war, when the London Ultimatum of May 1921 demanded payment of war reparations in gold or in foreign currency only,
Even more paper marks got printed by the Republic to buy those foreign currency !
By December 1922 hyper-inflationary trends emerged, when the US Dollar became equivalent to 7,400 German Marks, with a 15-fold increase in the cost of living !
By the fall of 1922 when it became impossible for Germany to make further payments,
The French and Belgium armies occupied Germany’s Ruhr Valley area, its prime industrial region!
French and the Belgians hoped to extract payment in kind, but a strike by the workers of the Ruhr area their hopes belied!
The Wiemar Republic printed more paper notes to pay and support the workers of the Ruhr area,
When hyperinflation had peaked at 4,210,500,000,000 German Marks, to a US Dollar!
Paper currency having become worthless, some form of ancient barter system began to be used instead!

STABILISATION OF GERMAN ECONOMY WITH ONSET OF  THE GREAT DEPRESSION:
Following the hyperinflation Chancellor Josef Cuno’s cabinet resigned in August 1923,
When Gustav Stresemann became the new Chancellor of Germany.
Stresemann’s Government had introduced the Rentenmark as a new stable currency,
To end the hyperinflation which had plagued Wiemar Germany.  
Rentenmark was backed by real goods, agricultural land and business,
Since gold was not available in a beleaguered German economy those days!
When One Rentenmark was equivalent to One million, million, old German Mark;
While One US Dollar was equivalent to only 4.2 Rentenmarks.
Though Stresemann’s Government lasted for 100 days only, Stresemann continued to serve as the Foreign Minister in successive Coalition Governments of the Republic,
Till his death in the month of October 1929, but working for the betterment of Germany all the while!
His ‘Policy of Fulfilment’ stabilised German economy with a 200 Million Dollars loan from America under the Dawes Plan in 1924,
Which had also ensured the evacuation of France from the occupied Ruhr area, with their future reparations payments ensured.
Stresemann’s signing of the Locarno Pact in London on 1st Dec 1925 with France, Belgium, Great Britain, and Italy, was considered as his achievement and a feat!
Since it made Germany to enter the League of Nations ensuring stability and peace;
While the Noble Peace Prize was awarded to Stresemann for his efforts in 1926!
Later, the Young Plan of 1929 further reduced German reparations payment by 20%, while extending the time frame for the payments to 59 years!
But following a sudden Wall Street Stock Market Crash in late October of 1929,
The American Banks were forced to recall money from Europe and the Young Plan;.
Which created acute financial distress when unemployment soared to 33.7%  in Germany in 1931, and quickly rose to 40% during the following year!
Lausanne Conference was held in Switzerland in 1932 by Great Britain, Germany, and France, to further reduce the War Debts imposed by the Versailles Treaty.
But in Dec 1932, the US Congress had rejected this Allied War Debt Reduction Plan completely.
However, no further payments were made by Germany due to the Great Depression;
And by 1932, Germany had paid only 1/8 of the total sum required to be paid as per their pending wartime reparations!

NOTES: Rentenmark was issued on 15 October 1923 to stop the hyperinflation in Wiemeer Germany. Reichmark was the currency in Germany from 1924 to 20 June 1948 in West Germany , when it was replaced by the Deutsche Mark; but had continued in East Germany until 23 June when it was replaced by East German Mark.
During the Stresemann Years of Stability from 1924 to 1929, (prior to the onset of the Great Depression), with help of American financial aid, created more housing & production in Germany. Dada & Expressionist Art forms flourished, followed by modern architecture; also the Philosophy of Existentialism of Thomas Mann – influenced the Western culture. Paul Whiteman's Band for the first time brought in American Jazz to Germany, and Jazz signified the liberation of German youth and women folks of the younger generation generally. But the US Stock Market Crash had unfortunately ended this short lived euphoria, and as it soon became a global phenomena!                                


FAILURE OF THE WIEMAR REPUBLIC & THE GREAT DEPRESSION WHICH BENEFITED THE NAZIS:
Last Days of Wiemar Republic:
Ever since Otto Von Bismarck that ‘Man of iron and steel’, united Germany into a single Empire in the year Eighteen Hundred & Seventy One,
For the first time a Constitution for a Parliamentary Democracy was drawn up in August 1919, in the eastern German city of Wiemar.
Wiemar was the intellectual centre of Germany associated with musicians like Franz List, and writers like Goethe and Schiller.
The Wiemar Republic of Germany which had lasted from 1919 till 1933 had seen,
20 different Coalition Governments, with frequent elections and changing loyalties!
Due to a system of proportional representations, and the presence of very many political parties those days,  
No single party could obtain absolute sole majority in the Reichstag Parliament!
The longest Coalition Govt. was under Chancellor Bruning, which had lasted for only 2 years and 61 days!     (From 30 March 1930 to 30 May 1932)
Now, to understand the reasons for the failure to maintain a Democratic form of Government by the Wiemar Republic,
It becomes necessary to monitor its ‘dying gasps’ during its closing years so to speak!
Since faced with the economic depression Chancellor Bruning had worsened the unemployment situation by adopting stringent and unpopular measures!
Thereby having lost popular political support, Bruning with the approval of President Hindenburg, invoked emergency powers under Article 48, to survive his last few months and years!
During the years 1931 and 1932  it is seen, Bruning had used this Emergency Clause 44 and 66 times respectively!
Thus his so-called ‘Presidential form of Govt.’ had undermined Wiemar Democracy!
If Burning was the ‘Republic’s Undertaker’, now remains a debatable issue of History!
But Burning’s vigorous campaign made Hindenburg to get re-elected as the President;
Thereby he had removed the defeated Adolf ****** out of the Presidential race!
Therefore, later when ****** became the Chancellor on 30 Jan 1933, Bruning had very wisely fled from Germany!

Following Bruning’s resignation in May 1932 came Chancellor Papen’s ‘Cabinet of Barons’ consisting of individuals who were not members of the German Reichstag!
While in the election of July 1932 ******’s **** Party won 230 seats, making it the largest party in the Reichstag.
But ****** refused to form a coalition with Papen, because he wanted to become the Chancellor himself !
Now General von Schleicher advised President Hindenburg that the German Army,
Would not accept Papen’s use of Article 48 to remain as the Chancellor of Germany!
Therefore following Papen’s resignation, Schleicher took over on the 04th of December 1932 as the new German Chancellor.
Schleicher tried to restore a democratic form of government to get the Wiemar Republic back on its feet.
But in the ensuing political power struggle Papen wanted to take revenge on Schleicher for his removal from power and defeat.
So Papen persuaded Adolf ****** to become the Chancellor, and retain for himself the post of Vice-Chancellor.
In doing so, Papen mistakenly thought that he would be able to reign in the self-assertive Adolf ******!
Papen finally made President Hindenburg agree to his proposal, and on 30th of Jan 1933,
****** became the New Chancellor, with approval of the President!
A month later a sudden fire in the Reichstag made ****** invoke Article 48, in order to squash the suspected Left Wing Communists;
But while doing so, the Press was muzzled, and many Civil Rights of the German people were abolished, inclusive of their right of assembly and free speech!
****** acted swiftly, and by passing the Enabling Act on 23 March, 1933, armed himself  with dictatorial powers for enacting laws without the approval of the Reichstag whenever necessary!
Thereby ****** threw Democracy to History’s wasteland most unfortunately!
Following the death of Hindenburg on 29 June 1934, ****** combined the powers of the President and the Chancellor, and became known as the FUHRER!
Historians generally agree the Enabling Act of 1933, as the date for establishment of The German Third *****.

THE POLICY OF APPEASEMENT AND GERMAN AGGRESSION:
The horrors of trench warfare with the rattling of machine guns and bursting of poisonous nerve gas shells,
Even after 20 years remained fresh, in the minds of all World War One participants!
Therefore, it was natural for British and French Prime Ministers Neville Chamberlain and Edouard Daladier initially,
To grant political and material concessions to an aggressive Germany, for the sake of peace and stability.
Thus the diplomatic stance of Appeasement between 1935 and 1939 followed by the French and the British, was mainly to avoid another dangerous armed conflict!
But the trusting Mr. Chamberlain had underestimated ******, who had served in the German Army as a Corporal, winning the Iron Cross during the last Great War!
****** was not afraid of war, but wanted to avenge the Treaty of Versailles and its punitive dictated peace;
And also establish for the superior German Aryan race a lasting Third *****!
Therefore, having consolidated his power as the Fuhrer along with his trusted **** Party cronies, he withdrew from the League of Nations in October 1933.
Introduced conscription in March 1935 in Germany, and embarked on a mission to rebuild a new modernised German Army for combat on land, air, and sea!
In March 1936, in another open violation of the Versailles Treaty, ****** re-occupied the demilitarised Rhineland, followed by a Treaty of Alliance with Japan and Italy.
The much desired Anschluss (or merger) with Austria, the country of birth of ******,
Saw the German Army in March 1938, triumphantly and peacefully marching into Vienna!
Now with the Munich Conference of 19 September 1938, this Policy of Appeasement is said to have reached its climatic peak!
The Sudetenland area, consisted of 3 million Germans were made
to join Czechoslovakia when the frontiers were drawn in 1918-19,
Much against the wishes of the Germans!
When ****** wanted to annex this Sudetenland area, Britain, France, Germany and Italy, met at Munich to diffuse an explosive situation peacefully.
It was agreed at Munich that once Sudetenland joins Germany, ****** will not invade Czechoslovakia and honour the terms of peace.
But on 15th March 1939, in violation of the Munich Agreement, ******’s army invade and occupied Czechoslovakia, thereby openly flouting the Policy of Appeasement!

NOTES: ******’s desire for ‘LEBENSRAUM’ or ‘increase of living space’ for the Germans, commenced with his ‘Border Wars’, which soon turned into a Global War because of the ‘appeasement policy’ of the Allies. ****** had secured his Eastern Front with a treaty with the Stalin, since fighting on two fronts would have been very difficult for the Germans.

Now when ******’s army invaded Poland on 1st of September 1939, it became ‘the last straw on the camel’s back’ for the Western Allies!
Committed to the Anglo-Polish Defence Pact of 25 August, 1939, both Britain and France declared war on Germany,
Which I propose to narrate in Part Two of my Second World War Story.  
The Policy of Appeasement no doubt gave some time for Britain, to regain its depleted military strength,  but Adolf ****** had viewed it as a sign of weakness!
With Russia and America initially as non-participants, ****** became more confident and arrogant!
Thereby turning his border wars into a global conflagration lasting six long years.
When the use of advanced technology, resulted in greater loss and casualties;  
Which was followed by the holocaust and unprecedented human suffering!
I would like to conclude my present narration with a poem by English soldier-poet Seigfried Sassoon, who participated in the First World War on the Western Front.

DREAMERS  -  by Siegfried Sassoon
Soldiers are citizens of death's gray land,
Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows.
In the great hour of destiny they stand,
Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.
Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win
Some flaming, fatal ****** with their lives.
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin
They think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives.

I see them in foul dug-outs, gnawed by rats,
And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain,
Dreaming of things they did with ***** and bats,
And mocked by hopeless longing to regain
Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,
And going to the office in the train.
…………………………………………………………………………
Thanks for reading patiently, from Raj Nandy of New Delhi.
  *ALL COPYRIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR ONLY

Snow fell deeply on the graves that night,
falling on both the wealthy and not so,
coating with cleanliness and purity all who
do not deserve and the very few who may.
The snow descended coldly and quietly,
blanketing gravestones and statues alike.
Distinguishable only by their shadows
and heavenward thrusts and stances,
they continue to designate where bodies
lay and bright hopes are finished.
Despite the softness and the silence,
above the solitude and endless white,
the boundless rage of ended dreams
seems to penetrate upward, to shriek.

--

"Commitment issues"
Commitment: a designated set of time
Issues: problems

So I cannot, successfully,
Designate an "appropriate" amount of time
To a relationship
Is that right?

Keep in mind,
These women enter my life
And I tell them I don't believe in marriage
And they say "that's ok"
Until it's not.

Maybe it's a comment I made
Or maybe they forgot
But something changes over time
And I am not an object
I am not some possession
That people can lay claims to
I am a human
With ever-changing needs and desires
With thoughts and feelings
And my own perception of reality

So maybe I get anxious when people
Try to put some hold on me
You chalk it up to commitment issues
What if I just don't like feeling owned?
What if I simply refuse
To let anyone remove my autonomy?

And what's even wrong with that?
Who gets to decide what is an
"Appropriate" amount of time?
Oh, wait,
That's "forever" right?
Says who?
Why should I continue to chase this
Socially-constructed dream
Of spending my entire life with one person
If that's not what makes me happy?

Trust me, I've tried for a long time
And I could never seem to find
A singular being
Who I'd willingly spend eternity with
If that even exists
And until this point
I've been unhappy most of my life
Reflecting on my failed attempts at
Happy monogamy

I am finally happy now
Free love is beautiful
It has liberated my soul
It has liberated my love
And my sense of self
For once I feel happy most days
I am focusing on myself now
Instead of pouring everything into another
I'm growing more everyday
And learning more about who I am

But you just brush that off
Saying my polyamorous identification
Is a manifestation
Of some fear of commitment
It couldn't possibly be the real me
It couldn't possibly be the way I feel happiest
Because it's not the "normal" way to desire?
It's not the logical form of love?
Or it's just different
Or it's just new
And you rejecting it within me
Means you aren't accepting me for who I am
In this moment

If that's the case
Then I don't know who you're in love with
Because this is who I am
Whether you like it
Or disagree with it
Or not
This is who I am
And I'm so over
Trying to validate
Justify
And explain myself
Just because someone disagrees with my form of loving

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The gap, the take,
The spindle-rake.
Don't designate the load.

The lack, the sting,
The dandy spring,
There's more than you could know.

So weigh your time,
With thundrous lines,
This yours is yours alone.

Thus Live It Loud,
And Sunstorm Proud,
Use this full day
                                     for,
                                                   "GO!"

Here is where I take your smile and
stretch it into a sunset, I
remember your words to mean
everything they didn't
I make haikus out of eyes and note how
they emit light when you laugh
This is where I draw you indelible
on the pages of a notebook
I color you vivid, write you
permanent, take non-fiction and
turn it fantasy,
Into something we might watch
together on a Sunday night
I designate you hero of the story and
I wait with tired arms
to be lifted into yours
Here is where I create a landscape
out of ash and worship you with
language you don't deserve,
vocabulary that is too big for your small
Here is what could easily be a love poem if
you were someone who wanted one but
the only want you have isn't for me

325

Of Tribulation, these are They,
Denoted by the White—
The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Rank
Of Victors—designate—

All these—did conquer—
But the ones who overcame most times—
Wear nothing commoner than Snow—
No Ornament, but Palms—

Surrender—is a sort unknown—
On this superior soil—
Defeat—an outgrown Anguish—
Remembered, as the Mile

Our panting Ankle barely passed—
When Night devoured the Road—
But we—stood whispering in the House—
And all we said—was “Saved”!

I could write a poem on how the storm outside
Assaults my window panes with pain intended.
The wind brings life to the inanimate accessories of trees
Previously dropped to the ground like cigarette butts.
And I could say how this weather suits my mood
As if even though I’m sitting here in a towel after my bath,
There is chaos inside my mind far greater than any weather occurrence.
But that would be insane.
As if the world outside, where the purpose of the sky is to designate the rain
Shares any likeness to the mood I am in.
Or the life I lead.
How full of myself, to believe the crashing I hear from battering rain
Could compare to the need I feel to explode out of my own skull.
No.
Not ever.
Me and Mother Nature share no maternal bond.
Even if she could depict what way the wind blows, depending on the state I’m in
How could she know?
When I am merely here, in my towel, upon my bed.
Expressing no wrath compared to that outside.
Believing that the storms I see from my bed
Rival the storms inside my head.

Never Have I Ever (Slam Poem)
5/27/2014

Having a best friend makes you think of weird things.

Stuff like:
Getting slapped in the face with a fish is more about smell than texture.
13 nights in a row drinking isn't so bad if you save cash not using mixers.
A stranger hitting on you is a storyline for tomorrow's lunch.
Redecorating my room is just for you, nobody else will see it.
You asked me to go shop with you, are you saying I need new clothes?
Crushing Ritalin in a bathroom, because we stayed up 'til 6am before work.
Pooping is like extra time in the day set aside to call you on the phone.
Why do we play Never Have I Ever when we already know the ever's?
People think we constantly say inside jokes, but we're just telepathic.
I get into shape before you visit town, because you're my best wingman.
If we ever stop being friends, I really hope you don't blackmail me.
Can I designate you to speak at my wedding, babyshower, and funeral?
... or is it too soon to do that?

Losing friends can make you think of weird things, I imagine.

Stuff like:
1. I should stop ordering carne asada fries - I can't finish a whole portion.
2. I keep my curtains closed - I know your car won't randomly be outside.
3. Having lunch alone ***** - I shared a crazy story with the cashier today.
4. I take my poops with the stereo on now - I never could go in silence.
5. My voicemail inbox is full - I can't delete any when your voice pops up.
6. Maybe I should call you.
7. I need to talk to you.
8. I wish I could call you.
9. If only you'd come visit town.
10. Maybe I should go visit the cemetery.
11. I have a new least favorite Never Have I Ever.
12. Never Have I Ever had a best friend die.

And I hope I never ever will put that finger down.

if it be a tribal issue, i'd craft a society
from each nation,
but it be a furthered without ethnicity
for a system,
socialism is equated with borders
where the many calais migrants are male
with no female counterparts,
a sort of faked ******, more apparent
when the tennis matches roll into quarter finals,
kacap ******* moaning and groaning
a serve, a return... russian galls all eager-******
for the ooh-ah, ugh-nibble pull apart the ribcage!
even serena williams imitated for a while
the welcome ******* distraction,
the song named the misty mountain colds
will define my life, i invested many words
for the emotion behind it, and i'll invest in nothing else
in order to feel:
like i feel lessened in creative exploits
with a thousand blank pages between me and the ink
of zoological phonetics encoding emerges
(put a number to it, and every time
i get depressed - because the quality changes
very little, and the little that's left only
belittles with a sudden loss of adventure:
poets the naked narrators who cannot
craft characters, instead writ into action
a familiarity with narration but no
de-personifying narration),
mind you the god that endowed you with adventure
mind you the god that endowed you with pampering,
and which world to designate life with will you choose?
kacap! kacap! orthodox mad monk kacap *******!
let the commonwealth oar its last into the geography
of poland ukraine and lithuania carved from the mapping
of frequented transit of commercial goods...
that i find my un-originality among the blank pages
published, when i read the inked blotches of former
invaders of the blanks tattooing their tongue
from breath and into word, in order to ignite a nobleness
of delay: that word might invoke memory porous,
and breath imagination, and the riddle of dissected
airing of thought: with vowels the zenith and consonants
the nadir, i here by name meeting a loss of anonymity
proclaim a union in syllables of the height and depth
coordinating a linear road well travelled, universal;
here too i claim the sloth of slang mismatched from
quicksilver, taking off the trailing technology of
such an endeavour of rhyme upon rhyme with the
sole expressing it successfully: the utility of a rhymed couplet:
rap pancake potato sack readied for the flip flip
of the slavish rubric of packing the ones readied
for cotton picking.
route back to tennis: kacap ******* smoking
thick tough cigars of: umf! pooh! plough! ooh oh ah!
backhand spin, forehand ****! umf! ****! clap loud!
ooh oh ah!
the iceberg sized diamonds were easily dispersed,
and all other riches were stored with
screams in helium kept tight: advantages of
wealth circular economy
in the octopus incisor depths of
the mosquitoes of iron maiden skeletons
of sharpened blood draining arteries dubbed
the clippings of st. peter's of st. petersburg insignia nailing
a fathomable curse, readied for the public,
and readied for the ***** of a concentrated public
expression in only one statistical imprint: continuum
(be met assuredly):
our garden of eden readied for the public barbers
where once the bread of the beards begot a trimming
of a diet, should erotica feign a menopause of onomatopoeias
once readied for the ultimate pleasure,
now readied for old age's onslaught of readier
sober speech to make choice akin to mistake,
given 2 be 2 and both located in a flat earth of the square,
as seen in linear rather than omnipresent orientation
of the optics... and so on and so on, successfully,
to unsuccessfully remind us all of the candle flame hush,
arable the last neared star to give moon dominion
over the night that was a feline gaze of luminescent
fattening of many mirrors in termed phosphorous
elemental, when john, catherine and gabriel
stood contrast erectile on the spaniel's spine converted
to a dimension of dissection of rooted distances
made worthwhile unknown now (the surd k)
and the phonetic approximation of knowing (surd
the 15th century, surd the 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th,
in order to speak now and sepia the rest, as the
equivalent of not having the surd for the syllable now).

A trophy doesn't designate
A winner
Anymore than swearing denotes
A sinner.
Think
Attitude,
Not
Platitude,
And
Wear a ribbon.

Its not the point of killing faith that u will find someone.
Its the action of loneliness and controlling your bonds
Its empty alone and so is pretending to love
You cant make connections not like addiction to drugs.
Save the drug of infatuation.
No reason just meaning less
No selection. Just what drips in your lap
No focus just lenses that crack

The sextant marking starlines that guide your path
is no longer Coordinated calibrated to designate a map

Walk amble climb along to view a moral prefix
to design a way out of a sea just arms length
with the depth of the roots of mesquite trees in the spring

We are all stowaways in a ship waiting to jump to shore.
Trying to find a place to spill seeds in the tilled rows of a *****.
The words you whisper are pretty and my minds enthused
tho i know every go at this game i shall lose
Im wandering in a labyrinth
Chasing in a brain
like a rat in a spinning wheel following reflections from a cage

You tricked me. Oh yes. You win
Im no longer a man like all women before you ate the innards left a shell
spit out the hull
Dragged my meat to the floor

One final kiss and i leave, i am missed
You say lies again
i pull off your fist
its on my head
its in my throat
i read words that you spoke
its not my fault
its the blood clot
keeping us unconnected in this note

I am dreaming
secret beaming
red lights blinking
help is sinking
No hope between two
softly stroking
my cross is burning
No fires stoking
On my fore arms
on my chest guard
all is sinking with the funeral
All the voices in my head
are telling me it should be dead
yet the ***** in my soul
tells me that he still pleas for bread
But i starve him
and i lash him
and i strap him to this ledge
for he is wrong
and yes he lies
you're the harpy of my dread


You ******* killed me like i was a lame horse to be put down

I tend to fall for beautiful destruction.

The ones who will dedicate my favorite love song to me
So when they leave I can't hear it without thinking of them.

The ones who will call late at night
and talk about nothing
Till i drift to asleep
So i cant rest until i hear their voice wish me goodnight.

The ones who will designate an "Our thing"
So whenever I watch "Our Movie"
Or "Our Show"
I'll remember watching it with them
and have to turn it off.

The ones who give me one nickname
So no one can call me "Darling"
without it feeling wrong.

The ones who will make inside jokes
The ones only we know
So whenever someone mentions a small thing
Like soda pop or trailer trash
a small smile will cross my lips
as I remember them.

I tend to fall for someone who takes over the small things in my life
leaving their name all over them
So when they leave
the small things leave too
leaving a whole in my life
as the things that once brought me joy
Will only bring me to tears.

I fall for the ones my mom wouldn't warn me about.

I fall for the ones who make themselves unforgettable.

I fall for the ones who seem to care.

The ones who will spam my inbox
just to get my attention
when they know i feel lonely

The ones who will call
when I'm crying
Just so they can try to cheer me up.

The ones who will say They're proud of me
when I do what to some may be small
but to me is spectacular.

The ones who will listen to my deepest thoughts
Then tell the theirs.

I fall for those who never intend to stay.

I fall for those who will only hurt me.

The ones who when we're together make me feel like heaven.
But when they inevitably leave
Will destroy me.

I tend to fall for Beautiful Destruction.

By: Cedric McClester

Democracy or theocracy
The choice is yours
What it’s gonna be
Take another look
At Lady Liberty
And ask yourself this question
Do you like bein free

There’s no doubt that
Christians have good news
But we here in America
Have the right to choose
Some may refuse to bow
Or to acquiesce
But they’re still citizens
None the less

Democracy or theocracy
The choice is yours
What it’s gonna be
Take another look
At Lady Liberty
And ask yourself this question
Do you like bein free

See we’re all equal
In God’s sight
He didn’t designate
The religious right
To rule over
All the rest of us
So in Him believers
Oughta place their trust

Still some out there
Are bound to insist
That’s fine for believers
But the atheist
Should also have the right
To not believe
So their pursuit of happiness
Can be achieved

Democracy or theocracy
The choice is yours
What it’s gonna be
Take another look
At Lady Liberty
And ask yourself this question
Do you like bein free

She prays in a church
And he a synagogue
But even the mosque
Is still the House of God
More than one road
Leads to Rome
And more than one religion
Claims heaven home

Still some out there
Are bound to insist
That’s fine for believers
But the atheist
Should also have the right
To not believe
So their pursuit of happiness
Can be achieved

Democracy or theocracy
The choice is yours
What it’s gonna be
Take another look
At Lady Liberty
And ask yourself this question
Do you like bein free


(c) Copyright 2015. Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved/

How unprepared I was when midnight approached me by
Emission of vivid green neon lights
From the futuristic skyscrapers to my unworldly eyes
But more imposing
A suspended meteor in the sky
Upon the decrepit city which never stood
My arrival at Midnight City, my peculiar neighborhood
Thumping tracks and frantic sirens
Bombard tremendous fear in my senses
Amid the resonating pantomime that cracks throughout my head
Merciless cyborgs arrive from nowhere
And threaten mankind with unthinkable weapons
Their bleak empty eyes bring dogmatic order
As my escalated fears enslave me well
Inside the mechanical serpent that darts
With endless slick demented rails
On such a twisted mind, it begins to run
Confused and addled, I have no control of this matter
Only worries dwell my mind
The arrival of this mysterious force is my greatest baffle
Does this herald the degeneration of Gaia?
What is this complex machinery that enslaves all men?
Where does this designate human posterity and fate?
What was done for an act of retribution?
Does this unprecedented apocalypse null all human solutions?

In this dark tunnel, on a decrepit couch
The dauntless train begins to screech with endless laughter
As it tears tempestuously faster and faster
Until all unearthly fluorescent lights blend together
Thumping tracks and frantic sirens
Eighty-six notches louder
Alternating flashes of red and green
Fourteen seconds prior
A silhouette of a white demon projects from afar
As it begins to approach us, its image ever becomes so bizarre
Add a second of suspended silence of jest
Before we scream and ensue
The fatal crash

I want the children to stay silhouetted against the sun,
doing handstands, throwing their heads down and kicking
the cloudy, blue water.

They are silly children
with no fear of the fall and slipping shirts
that expose their human bellies.

They are spending time upside down
before the ground is lava and before they have to
check the sidewalks for cracks,
before they are tricked
into believing there is a secret underneath their feet
and they are greedy, greedy,
always looking down with limp arms and hunched shoulders.

They throw themselves over the ground
again and again. Not understanding
that their arms are too weak to keep their legs wading
against the current of gravity as
it pulses down on the Earth.

Or maybe they do know
and they are only trying to do handstands,
looking for a new perspective, a different world,
not the one they are stuck with.
They could be searching everywhere
for an alternative before they have to balance
on two feet and face the fear
that will rake in moments of their lives.

They already know that fear
but maybe trying anyways is what makes all the difference.
Perhaps everyone should go home right now
and designate handstand stations
in their living rooms,
throw open the windows,
and let the sunlight in
because it really is getting warmer
or maybe we're all just getting
used to the cold.

Over this I vacillate:
The writing down of verse,
Wealth of language distillate
Quench and cause my thirst.

Easy enough to hesitate
When errands need be run,
Either way I procrastinate
Leaving the other undone.

For quiet I equivocate
Time and time again, for
It is bliss to terminate
The what, the where, the when.

Sometimes I stew in stalemate
Two webs entreat be spun:
Revel in stillness or illustrate,
I pay with time for one.

Rilke said discriminate
If one must write or not,
To breath to write to oscillate
Conundrum of my plot.

Awareness and artistry bifurcate
My will in two extremes,
Yet I know when conjugate
They vivify the means.

Unsure if it is designate
I muse and metaphor,
I know with thrill words compensate
When they begin to roar.

What is the thing that animates
This soul to write a poem,
Passion to note and formulate
Or to be loved at home?

How do I mend my relationship with my body?
How do I hate myself, less?

How could I?
How dare I?

The world doesn't.
It tells me all the reasons why I shouldn't.
                                                      ­                     I mustn't.

I must hate myself.

I must hate my body, that is what I deserve.
What my body deserves

Love is reserved for the thin.
                                the beautiful.

The beautiful.
I could never be beautiful.

It's a lie,
when they say it.
It's a lie.
when they say I am.

I am beautiful from the neck up.

but you'd never use that word,
                            designate it to my body.
                                                           ­  to the rest of me.

The rest of me should be tossed away.
                                              discarded.


Please sir, can I keep my head?
It's the only place I live, the only place I am allowed to be.

I am not allowed to be beautiful. not allowed to be thin.
that was not the hand I was dealt. not my lot in life.




I exist in the world with my shame exposed.

                                                       ­       On display.


Do you know how that feels?




No hiding.


No escaping.


No pretending.




I am fat.  
My body is fat.



and from first glance, you can see my unworthiness.

                                                  ­      My lack of deservedness

It's always there.

Baptized in death incarnate, shown the worlds reality at a age of inspiration, with dreams dance upon the wings of butterflies in fields of daisy's, ******* the nectar of life, to sustain the biological imperative, that everything is connected beyond life and death.

Merge pen and ink, upon the fallen trees, show the world, the vulnerabilities of a soul lost in the shadows, were light fights the darkness to escape to another day, beyond the pages you write, beyond internal dialogue of devils and angels upon your shoulders.

Shower your soul, in the tears of angels, who have lost their wings and laid to rest upon the battleground, the lives of men, to stain sacred ground with life sustenance, every breath a battle you must tell now, so they are remembered in the pages of history

Purify this ground, with the ink within your veins, poet, rise from the ashes of reality, sprinkle the air with stardust, of fallen souls, in languid waves of desperation to live again, beyond the tragedy of death you've witnessed, here today. entitle, designate and cleanse this world a new, so every heart may know, deep within the recess of darkness within your eyes, incandescent flames burn the birth of a poet

this feeds me: http://tinyurl.com/hvz44mr - sure, when you see flowers pollinate more frequently, and pigs slaughtered more so, you begin to wonder: this gentlemanly approach to things is really paying off... sure is... oh well, why are they born to necessitate such matrimony kindred to sadism? why?! by now i'm in the refugee camp: i really don't care, just get me off this orbital **** of pathos.

when bass and drums merge,
and soon overpowered rhythm guitars
all long gone...
                                    i don't have to be right,
or wrong,
                      Sacha Baron Cohen and the Cohen
brothers (albeit distinctive) and
     Mel Brooks still understand comedy:
has to do about something concerning genitalia,
but feel the rhythm,
                      it's slightly dangerous,
it's thematic according to a rheumatic
piston sharpening to pulverise you into
a state of being brain dead, that's dangerous,
skin-heads aplenty, with the fake dodo-extinction
of the left leaves the right ripe and open
to invigorate itself... just like
Urban the 2nd launched the crusades during
the first crusade... my ethnic cousins were not involved,
we waited for the Teutons, then the Mongols,
what a magical ethnic diversity,
                         you end up discarding English
media, even if or whenever they come up with a story
akin to *all the king's men - whoop d d'ah:
               helium filled balloons...
                      because what you're speaking is: i'm not
discovering as a legitimate differentiation
basis for either Lenin or Lennon -
                            shoot the dummy,
well: you're all Clinton and California is orange...
                         you see, techno punk is vague...
i'm vague...
                     i loved being in brothels,
they told me about black boys with elephants *****
and tried to get me angry,
         hell, i passed the test when one ******* stole
my bank card and the **** showed me an *** array of
stolen cards in his plagiarism wallet...
                                many more examples...
why did i retire my youth and beauty to
encounter prostitutes?
                ever tried courting an English girl?
i dare say, gnarl?
                                             you'd sooner find a *******
leprechaun than **** an English girl...
                               the bony **** of my own extensive limb
curled got boring, university wasn't the 1960s,
               i didn't want to ****...
i didn't want a Clinton reputation...
                 what's the answer? am i gay? no!
brothel 999.
                          well: if you're not going to **** me,
and i'm tired of yanking the doodle and saying
*** is actually Switzerland, where am i to go?
          the only way is brothel-land.
                                  **** a nippy chicken off a supermarket
shelf? is that your idea of currency?
                  oh i heard, two guys drugged a girl
***** her then impaled her like a Polish-Lithuanian
          Commonwealth baron speaking Ukrainian
in Argentina... then the street protests...
           i'm convict for rightfully paying for ***,
paying an extra £10 for eating the genitals out,
         making a Jewish joke akin to Balaam -
getting what i want,
                                    telling the British girls:
oh here comes the Pakistanis, curry kebab dab in that?
sure!
               whey hey!
                                   Sinjit's your uncle!
why the **** would you wonder why i designate
myself as being misogynist?
                                   i conceptualised the idea by
splitting the Cartesian Siamese distraction
into two: ergo doesn't necessarily precipitate into
the arithmetic...
                    i coordinate otherwise...
                                        going to the brothel liberated
me from dating culture,
                          from dating apps,
                                  from that i call pork trimmings.
easy to say you're an atheist but have no atheistic
thought to back it up... and few hardly do:
    because it's easy to assume you are something
but have no agreeable thought to manage the throttling
being as such.
                  a man can masquerade his delving
into lost genital interaction for only so long,
but when you live in a society where women are deaf
and blind, and prefer the company of perverts...
hey **! the ****** are parading and knocking on your
front-doors...
                      because they can, and because they will...
            what, you want to date?
                       is that eating a date while breaking
the Raamadam fasting month?
                      you got to be ******* kidding me...
don't bother...
                                      you'll die a *******-load of
squatting ***** exercises that's politically merely a
handshake... if the English girl don't give to a man:
        then let the perverts come -
i'm done.... Bulgarian ****** taught me all i need to know,
and i even decided to pay an extra £10 to slurp up that
excess of Isaac's necktie on the altar of Abraham -
funny how the Aztecs built pyramids but where not
interrupted: 'cos they were palaces of capital punishment
not trivial tombs!
                                  they taught me more than
i could have ever learned...
             when it comes to dating these days?
i can't be bothered, should i be bothered? probably no.
well, there's that case of drugging a girl, ****** her
and then impaling her in Argentina...
                       with so many insects roaming the place,
you're bound to feel a desire to ****,
  and when not gratified and not interested in games,
you go the source of your woes and
                    desire to buy salt,
and you buy salt,
                 and oh god, it's so impersonal
and yourself so intact,  and then you leave,
                                      and then you have very or merely
little concern for keeping certain things memorable.

My heart aches and my back breaks
from all this pressure on me.
I try to escape and i try to designate
That Balance is all inside of thee.

what i've learned once treading on this path of the writing endeavour: i've become more of a stranger to myself, and a friend unto strangers; perplexing as it sounds, it nonetheless is the foremost acquaintance in experiencing, and fiddling with the medium.

which is, i dare say, so anti-socratic -
but the socratic method is all talk -
writing? hardly the reason to designate
a knowledge of a self -
primarily? a method of unknowing -
or, should i say: the nautical perspective
of searching unseen & unheard of sights -
perhaps even a 5 blind men's guess
at an elephant, or quiet simply:
mining; imagine, to the distaste of the local,
how a "posh" accent sounds in
essex, the land of dubious tongue-effigies...
how the english language *in totalis
looks like a disfigured tongue sculpture,
but if i were a native: there would be
no outsider ref. to cling to with
crab-like pincers,
                  or bullterrier jawline grip;
first you break the spirits, then you
settle on sniffing crushed ivory.
  and yes, i'll always think of the nigerian
chinua achebe calling joseph conrad
a "****** racist" - by now i'm past being
concerned being called out in some bogus,
if not macabre bingo game...
     that "label" is worth to me as much as
a hello, my name is... badge -
there's no honour in it -
           then again, i think about a white man
being racist over the spilled-beans of
looking at an albino... esp. one with an afro...
i have this memory, you see,
this mongrel of a polish girl in school,
art class, and she mentioned something
that still sticks to me like a leech...
no, not the similarity of south asian and african
noses, with the flattened lateral cartilage,
say any african and the malaysians...
this ***** dug deep...
    she said: oh, these poles don't have the perfect
african bone sculpture of the africans,
do they? what she meant, and yes, i agree,
was the not-so-protruding occipital -
yes, it's not as well "formed" as other skulls,
i guess that just adds to the pressure of
whatever the back of the brain is intended
for... a deformity? don't know -
                           what does that matter?
but these early quasimodo implants of perception
i.e. akin to the toothfairy / red dragon
start to bug you after a while -
      what's imperfect is celebrated -
and what's almost perfect: well -
that just goes into the dumpster -
   a pile of hot ****, a feast for fly dump of
concentrated maggot(s).
            which coincides with another thing -
i can stomach german existentialism,
   i can stomach the pish-poor french version
(compared with the richness of the russian
novel)...
i can stomach swedish cinematic take on
existentialism...
             what i can't stand is the english version,
i.e. primarily the aversion to the already
stated versions...
       english existentialism has become
a desperate cry - to me english existentialism
is not fit for conversation,
   it's not lecture and it's most certainly not
cafe talk, there is no: in the time & in the space
occupied...
                 english existentialism is
   non tempus non locus - sure, a precursor of
philosophy, but also the same mouth that
bites into a chicken bone with gums, but no teeth!
to me, what i hear is an existential blackmail,
   and the skipping rope chaos of moving from
the three prime pillars in the anglophone world:
evolutionary biology, the big bang and
(depending where you are): either the magna carta
or the declaration of independence;
   me? my universe began yesterday,
it will end today, and will begin once more tomorrow,
heri, nunc, cras...
            yesterday, today, tomorrow;
and frankly, i'll settle for that,
  but i'll also settle for akin to voltaire's observation
that the english are a nation of shopkeepers...
sure... and they're also the most ardent
naturalists.
              as we know french love pastry dough,
the italians love pasta, and the germans love metal;
further east it's ***** baby, *****.
    - a pole and a hungarian:
  bracia, do kieliszka, i szabelki (brothers,
  to a glass and to a saber).
              besides that?
(look, i have to make this quick, i've got
a mushroom soup going, but i'm missing white wine,
parsley and double cream for the main course
of mustard chicken - sarekpsa, dijon &
  bavarian mustards) -
                      and further will a kettle or
a stuffed toy travel from china to anywhere in
the western world, than a western idea
to china...
     there are limitations on the export & import
of ideas...
              esp. those that have no ethno-centric
"importance", rather an ethno-centric
  trans-literary impotence...
                   sometimes language can't be managed
by a translation that's global / universal -
sometimes the black & white really does only
sink to the depth of skin...
     after all: a white psyche is not a black psyche...
there is no universally robust uniformity of
a psyche in either jungian or freudian sentiments,
black music i can adore above classical,
but i have, perhaps only one or two books by
a black author...
  will alexander & gil scott heron...
       and that's about it...
      hey, same ****, different cover elsewhere...
then again i double up on perplexity -
  if this medium is the undifferentiated balance
of extremes i.e. white in all and black in lack -
        what the hell could possibly be deemed
"racist" - notably the denial of one's nationalistic
struggle with the hindsight of that
current year, under either a tsar or a tsarina in
1857? and to think i loved a russian woman
once...                                    once is enough.

The Weather Channel, ubiquitous,
Who among us does not have this app,
On their phone, computer, mobile device
Ready for a quick scan..

Odd topic for an essay,
Strange, that your poetic silence
Should be broken this way,
Then again, you didn't inquire,
Or even notice it had gone missing.

Yet the channel/app of which I write,
Is mobile, and certainly, applies to each of us
But cannot be found on any device but in our hearts..

When we awaken,
The temperature is taken,
A glance upon your visage
Reveals rested or irritable,
Blue clouds or storm warnings,
Better dress appropriately...

But even this is not the forecast
Of which my heart and words speak,,
The whether I need, the thermometer reading,
The barometric pressure that needs knowing,
Measures whether you love me still,
Love me more, love me better,
Than the last poem/day we just wrote/recorded,
Yesterday...

The waters we will yet navigate,
The sky we shall observe,
Cloud shapes to design and designate,
A fortune to prognosticate,
Is the sum of the fortunes/forecasts we create daily.

Our weather is our good fortune,
And strangely the forecast is the same daily,
Whether fair or hurricane,
Whether gladdened or pained,
Our forecast, ours,
Our forecast, unique,
Our forecast, let us record it into reality,
When we awaken entangled,
Looking out the window and envision,
Predicting our life-scape.

let me take you to church on friday nights after gin and whiskey

roar ‘oh my god’ so she knows you like it
take communion when my thighs greet your face
- - - - taste thy gifts, which we are about to receive
knees rap the hardwood floor, make you beg for mercy
whisper sins in my ears, teeth bashed pillows no longer muffle
crying out your confessions, repent
- - - - keep it pseudo with a blindfold
dip deep, deliver baptisms when i get you wet
- - - - god is a woman in this bed, no more ****** mary’s
metamorphose **** into holy water
vocalize moans to the harmony of the gospel
precise fingers conduct the choir
- - - - adagio, andante, allegro - you designate
reach salvation when you ******
- - - - arch your back, thy will be (un)done

Your scrawls slants rightward, with g's that look like s's.
The stamp is always square with the envelope's corner,
and you include the time of composition beneath the date.

Three months apart and I can hardly picture your hands anymore,
the way your left palm must drag behind the pen, leaving this trail
of smudgy footprints that tiptoe around your words.

I read of your dreams: to drive an old convertible down I-15,
listening to Tom Petty– the pinnacle of American existence, you say;
to have a daughter; to still go to concerts at age 40.

You tell me how you designate different books for bedtime
and for doing laundry. Sometimes you secretly listen to Colbie Callait.
And you've found yourself praying lately, most often for us.

You say you are thinking of taking up the banjo,
but will I ever get to watch your fingers wander its strings,
your tongue resting on your lower lip in concentration?

As my eyes scan the lines and I draft my reply, I find myself
wishing for more than a pen-pal-lover; that you would show up
at my door and I could hold the hand that crafts these words.

Your bedtime story version of us begins, "Once upon a time,
there were two extremely attractive, smart, funny, people..."
You wrote that you hope it has a happy ending.

*I hope so too.

You have boxes of cereals
I have boxes of crime,
Don't worry about it
I am not like that serial killer vine.

My boxes are not illegal
But regarded as trek,
I designate them as crime
Because it's done on beck.

The first crime is universal
Which is eating during a class,
And if you get caught
You will get a detention to pass.

Second needs a little courage
Which is bunking the lab,
And you will roam the whole school with friends
Without hiring a cab.

This crime is something planned
Distracting teacher from her study point,
Asking tales about their life struggle
Because we got bored from her english coined.

This crime is nothing less than others
Which is cheating during a test,
Not everyone will accept that
Because not everytime it did help them to score their best.

If you start to count them all
It will take your whole life to wind,
You created memories that are crime
Which you won't ever mind!

.the industrial age is over... i sometimes forget when the middle-ground was made into a sentence... the antichrist, or the demigod son of Hephaestus... the satanic push... to lever the molten iron: over... salt / silicon mines! gears up! industry and the satanic industries... perhaps... just... perhaps... now softcore industry of: etertainment rubrics... sewn underwear from the genesis that they were always going to be: export, MADE IN CHINA... this... grand ideal... but coming along with my bucket and spades... i knew that already, come 1994 in st. augustine's primary school... i had the sponge ****** mind ready to slurp the bubbles of ferocity sally scandals... post-soviety ex-satellite state civi? quasimodo was always going to give me the thumbs up... but when the bells rang... they started ringing for no injunction of a need to 'en masse'... there was a fire... a quiet innocent fire... but all the fingers started pointing...

politics, this most feral sport...
perhaps... "ars politico"?
the art of politics?

right now... boxing seems like a civil sport...
perhaps the damage is not written well
into the events...
but at least the audience is tamed...
probably by bets...
or other forms of decorum...
but in this sport of rhetoric?
in politics?
i don't see how... i don't see how i can
ooh and ah like a douglas murray...
although i'm a big fun of...
almost every homosexual talking...
it's like... that one aspect of ******...
i would have: if i could have...
not have a *******...

said sir lancelot onan jr....:
i have never met a woman...
who could... hand-job / ****-me-off
a prince william better than i...
it's a sad truth when you come across
specimens of women who only known
how to YANK and never... DOODLE
the phallus... with the ******* still
intact...
and *** and *** is just a ******* formality...

darwinism is the modern reinvention
of the copernican ooh-ah!
if copernicus did so: as an "independent"...
Galileo came along with his
mighty telescope... and the martyr's cushioned
seat... while some Greek...
to "us": unknown...

******* is older than beer...
that's my habit...
i look at women in "niqabs" performing
these lolly-pop acts...
and all i see is the niqab...
ninjas of islam mothers of the true believers...
is there something wrong in...
watching others pleasure themselves...
now: **** would be wrong...
if... i somehow managed a proud richie
if... it were... a woman being skinned...
if it was a circumcision of man's phallus...
performed by an iron maiden
gimmick ***...
then i'd be worried...

like that sound-proof of: you're not
in the company of a psychopath...
when someone yawns... you yawn with them...

ostrowiec swietokrzyski is a forgotten town,
once the allure of metallurgy...
because rust belt only happens in
h'america... because the mines only close down
in england... these people were also:
people of the metal...
western europeans "think" that we
moved... because... m'eh...
your metallurgy meccas closed...
ours... "ours"... didn't?!

darwin is the modern version of
medieval copernicus...
and i'm pretty ******* sure...
the ancient greeks, in their childish solipsism...
had a quasi-darwin to begin with...

i'm tired of hearing this worth of ****:
there's not enough toilet paper
to match up with the 111 of wiping your ***
with the index, middle and ring finger's
worth of: grafitti!

but at least boxing is a sport that still
demands a variant of ethics...
there's gloating prior...
but catch a skiving ******* gloating
after... doktor dentist herr sadist is...
waiting... parlor no. 2...
you can simply hear a faint grip
of the christmas carol he's singing...
'i'll hang you on a noose of
poor's joe's intestines i dissected:
** ** **...'
you get the idea where no jokes
comes from?

no sport ethic teaches the contestants
to gloat... to gloat is to be fat...
to be a glutton... no one likes...
people gloating after the facts...
like no one is expecting to hear much
about: the heliocentric contra the geocentric
argument...

i beg to disagree... people have a hand
in endearing the geocentric argument...
in the anglophonic realm...
what have we not heard of in the past
2 years beside brexit, trump?
so... there's a heliocentric model...
that's working? or aren't we still
left liberated by a geocentric model of
the now and the in-between?!

last time i chanced the argument...
nothing "west" of mars...
perhaps "north" of jupiter...
again: what's the copernican "west"...
what's the copernican "east"?
i'm still a ***** ******* remnant
of ****** pact VARSUS... aren't i?
warsaw pact...
and so i am:
i am in england for no "apparent" reason...
the metallurgy advent of europe
ended... even under the soviet
umbrella you were... "influenced"...
only western europe gets to: bemoan?
begrudge?! nostalgia riddle itself an et off?!

- you can watch any other sport
and find less "grief" in it...

tennis! what is tennis willing outside
of politics?
the captivated audience...
esp. with the prime-minister's
q&a...

in football... any interference from
the crowd...
summary? a clause is passed...
pencil & paper muscles are flexed...
law comes into: from sleepy /
sheepish demands: a reality to abide
by, goal poasts are moved...

perhaps that's why boxing is a mythological sport...
it doesn't matter that the art... the sport...
doesn't take into consideration
the entire body... and even if the rules
"suggest" that the upper body canvas
is involved...
the boxing remains true:
as truth said: the interaction between
two fists, the head and a car crash
bound to some later... "investement"...

but at least boxing is a sport of pristine quality...
it can be celebrated...
with a fictive outlet...
the audience is involved but only involved
as a dasein: being there...
politics? i vote...
but i'm hardly ever going to fathom
being in parliament...

oh mein nett gott...
where is tennis and my tennis *****?
that game of: 7 rectangles...
and... at most... 11 referees...
and about 6 ball boys / girls...

ludo politico... this most feral sport...
come to think of it...
there's not much to think of...
but beside the sulking and the gloating...

once upon a time so abstract...
so abstract as there is nothing to abstract with

to exercise a will for the existence of a body...
beside having to justify talking
by simply thinking...

darwinism really has shaped events
of historical consideration to fill up the calendar...
that no amount of copernican gluttony and
gloating could ever surpass...

what was once intelligenstia vogue back
in the 15th century... via copernicus...
is once more intelligenstia vogue in this:
what year are we in?
darwin... darwinism outside of the anglosphere
of *******-tick-tock-******* is...
yet another frictive detail that acts
like sandpaper when attempted to fit into
a jean pocket of events...

it's rough around the edges...
and all this ontological borrowing from ape,
from lion, this ontological borrowing from
ants from... this microscope inside
a telescope... and otherwise... inverted...

i'm at the end of my road...
a most fractured example of what could
possibly be deemed human...
annals of worthwhile autobiographies
my ***...
merry christmas my ***...
this celebration is a bit of a *******-whipping...
i might as well die tomorrow and know
that only one man existed in all of history...
hardly a reason to curl into a foetus pose
a shadow and start biting into a corner
like some mouse for the celebration
of the birth of Leibniz or Kant...
nonetheless...

i am to celebrate... something that's
either a bad-*******-riddle-of-ad-nauseam...

or... how i'm the only person who would say:
you know they unearthed the nag hammadi
library back in 1945... and there's a correlation...
with the history of the jewish revolt against
the romans... written by an "integrated jew"...
a josephus ben matthias...
and how... that doesn't even matter?
because jesus wasn't playing
chinese whispers in the gospel of st. thomas...
and this is all just fine, fine; fine!

to celebrate a "birth" is to also...
make this "life"... what it is... "life" something only worth
the margins and minor notations...

what is relevant when cf. (comparing)
darwin to copernicus?
the awe fantasy ridden vogue of intellect,
the: darwinism is a square box that can fit
itself into any empty lodge of parchement...
a square can fit through a triangular shaped
hole... darwinism can...
be all and end all...
we don't need any continental
existential complexity... we do not need
any 20th century existential ontology...
as long as we have... an explanation readied
via darwinism... a simple 1 + 1 = 2...

i, robot; you - don't care...

Kant is still holding the spot for: bachelor of the year...
215th year coming...
Kierkegaard is a shy second...
but Kant is something akin to
what the Muhammedians would call...
the unison of all five...
the Shahadah is the categorical imperative...
Salat: to think is to pray...
Zakat: to not speak is to give alms...
Sawm: to not think about food is to fast...
(or keeping the motto...
i eat to live... i don't live to eat)
Hajj: ha ha! Paris! or... to go where you're
supposed to be...
rather than... expect others for you to be at...
to not be a tourist! a hajj implies:
be not a tourist! expect to be made unwelcome...
come with a purpose...
that deviates from the purpose of
a stated origin to be made purposive
by you going there!
hajj! don't be a tourist!

i have always found some relief in Islam...
like any Romford bound lad...
Ronnie O'Sullivan...
christianity? not after having unearthed
the nag hammadi library...
not after the words have remained
coincidental... not after 1945...
not after WHERE the nag hammadi library was found...
not after the powers-at-be
attempted to "confuse" / hide the nag hammadi
library as a distinct yet: simultanoeus event
coinciding with the dead sea scrolls...
not after the each quwaitii became a oil rich
baron sheikh... not became the pakistanis
and the bangladeshi decided: **** it working
slave hours in Dubai...

Lawrence of Arabia citation of Islam...
i will fake it... the christianity...
but i doubt to ever have a pillow to lie on...
i am pretty sure i will not make it...
i know the allure of islam...
i know the allure of islam when...
if only some genuine friend of this faith came
across me... before that farce of a friend
worth the psychopath's lying ferret's woo
of an Egyptian... with time:
no... no! no healing!

Islam is younger... christianity is...
how many schisms?
prune, pseudo-buddhist...
catholic, protestant... unitarian...
bishopric baptist... calvinist...
it's a... monotheism...
but... given the many splinters?
i find it improbable to not treat it as a...
polytheism... how many times are most kind sirs
going to divide the ******* loaf?!
until we're no longer even eating crumbs?!

christianity to me is a polytheism:
given the number of times it has divided itself up!
it's a cancer growth spectacular, al fresco!
i can only thank the protestants for this...
poly-divison...
after all... there was only one schism in islam...
and that's the allure!
because i am neither: Iraqi prone...
Iranian il allahu blah blah blahlah ural "who who"...

skin? or tattoo?
i have seen christianity die...
no one wants to talk of the nag hammadi library,
honestly... this is a ******* major event!
the media contest: the unearthing of
the dead sea scrolls is a synonym:
of an event that doesn't even happen...
the dead sea scrolls is an event relating
the death of the prophet Isaiah...
being disemboweled... being a courtesan...
guess what!
if no one is going to be ghost-forsaken
and salted-soul honest!
irish proud etc.! guess what...
like unto like: do as they do!

plus all this anglosphere wet-***** darwinism...
how the ****, did darwinism just hijack all
the arms of the humanities...
everything has to be explained with darwinism...
good! because if every cul de sac of life
was to be explained using copernicus...
imagine!

not even newton is a celebrated
scientist these days...
not even michael faraday...
but darwin is!
everything has to come down to
a darwinism - a branch of darwinism...
there's only one narrative:
a biological / psychological narrative...
how could a mythology surround
a Herr Faust / a Pan Twardowski...

england skipped the myth of the chemist...
the alchemist:
sure... william "Christopher Marlowe" shakespeare
tried to "catch-up"...
the english imagination was lost to king
arthur and the glories of:
being conquered by Rome...
of having been part of an ancient history...
last time i checked... us central europeans...
the germans, the goths, the vandals, the aesti...
the great migration types from the Causcus...
we... we didn't share the bounty of this history...
we're again: the barbarians at the gates...
us, slaves... with this sound-encoding and our
own distinctions: our caron S and caron C...
to sneak-in the tetragrammaton...

and who are, the Italiano?
do the Italians even recognise ancient Rome?
do the English truly recognise the...
what's that artifact... the Stonehenge?
ha! ha ha ha ha!
by joke alone...

darwinism's plague on everything cultural!
everything has to be a reminder of:
genes! gene narratives!
everything has to become a propability
gambit! everything has to be sacrificed upon
quasi-religious statements of: why you should,
rather than: why you shouldn't be feeling
so ******* grateful for a per se...

to me... darwinism is... a neo-copernicanism...
a stylish vogue rhetoric...
you can wear darwinism in the 19th to the mid 21st century...
afterwards? it's just a timid burn on the brain
to have to "argue" trans-generational
sensibility patterns of being the labelled:
made in western liberal free "ouch" spice society...

i can side with islam on two grounds...
who were the janissaries?
Murad I would have retorted:
who were the Jesuits?
if not by foundation, the hands of Ignatius of Loyola?
when who were the Mamluks?
my western neighbors love to...
designate my grand ethnic "etymology"
within the framework of the eaten E...
i.e. a slav(e)...

why would i side... with this... variant...
this... "variant" of "christianity"...
for a ******* carol-song-***-by-*******-yah
hard-on quest?!
you heard them...
old saxons vs. new blut saxons in
an orchestra of zeppelins hanging over london!
or... the lagoon as i like to call it...

check you "history" your etymology...
oh... because "they" would correct "misunderstood"
etymology... with a counter:
akin to the ethnonym -
loan words baron!
it's just "a missing E"...

it's still mainstream darwinism...
i imagine the years under the Polish-Lithuanian
commonwealth...
the Ukranians must have been like...
enough! enough of this Copernicus ******* already!
Ave Khmelnitsky!

after all... copernicus was right...
the sun does not move around the earth...
the earth moves around the sun...
copernicus was right... we were wrong...
the earth moves around the sun...
but... the affairs of the sun...
are not... the affairs of the earth...
and those... bound... to inhabit it...
the sun is important...
but... soap opera triviality is...
somehow... more... important...
drama of the callous nature of man...
is... more than... the vacuum riddle bundle
of billions of years is...
with its... mere H-to-He exchange of gaseous
bundle warmth...

one thing that governs my cruelty toward
how darwinism is exploited to fit
every ******* crevice of everyday life...
that one's: its supposed universality...

but then... this trans-genus trans-species
"comparative literature"...
it's not enough to be imitating ape...
again: which ape?
the chimp alone? the gorilla?
the ******* macaque?
why would i devolve...
having the body of a gorilla?
a gorilla could wrestle a lion to the death...
i, albino quasi gremlin bonkers IQ...
get to... pet a bonsai tiger!
yay!

two things went wrong when it came
to... "people, thinking"...
vogue ideas...
the copernican revolution...
and the... revolution of darwinism...
oh we can forget about marx...
we all know what was wrong about that...
i'm pretty sure some greek knew that already...
but we're stalling...
for **** know's what...
since: not being vular by now is not going
to help the "clarification of verbiage
over civilised tea and scones later" either...

if only these darwinist concentrated on
the source material...
but... to throw into this "existentialism"
a mix of peering with scrutiny at an ant colony...
at bacteria... at tapeworms...
and... somehow... being...
once more... the center of the universe...
of analytical diarrhoea?
in a heliocentric schematic?
**** me... are you sure...
this heliocentric argumentation was only so good...
as good as... when you didn't have to
navigate a west and an east...
on a map...
going through the Rhine valley...
via Antwerp... via Essen...
via Dortmund on the autobahn?

again... what's a copernican "east"?!

I know a day
Mother may i yes you may
Wait in January and May
Changing time delay
Financial gain repay
Washing with GAIN spray
Water beaches waves
Money grow on tree branch break
Taking a break from life decay
Maybe just stolen fish on bait
Men mastery *******
Mason and teplars template
Money laundering contemplate
Some words can relate
Relationships replace
Playing chess checkmate
Success i will regenerate
All along make a clean slate
The year 1776 to1778
My path clear and straight
I will eat because u already ate
Knowingly frustrating designate
This design is precious simulate
Simulating grids no hesitate
Motherboard and pannel fate
tHe 13th and 9HT gate
Souls and destined key to soulmates
The road 66 or 69 navigate
Mr and Mrs contract negotiate
Go with your gut or go with faith
Coins and diamonds a future await

Chapter XVIII
Parapsychological Plot

They were in the parapsychological hypnosis session all undaunted by everything that could happen. The journey of a life through the hidden spaces of past existence was a reality. It all begins in antiquity where Vernarth was hypno transported to meet his inmates and comrades. He proved to be a great defender of libertarian ideals and above all not to betray his formation of great leadership of the greatest empire, with his immeasurable feats of achievement, of this super experience of reunion for a world past to more reunions for having lived and relive them again.

The master director of this great feat, acknowledged never having attended something that is compared to him, it is an unprecedented fact that would mark a new milestone in his specialty and the study of parasychology. The doctor together with his assistants arranged to reevaluate a new systemic therapy policy, in exchange for their own way of life, generating the largest plan of the episode of intercommunicativeness to planes and dimensions of the ancestral memory of the entire created world and those that its beneficiaries have been able to verify.
In the immediate vicinity of the clinical consultation, hundreds of people, curious, journalists and the media gambled. To which one of them asks the doctor:

Journalist: Dear Sir, I would have a coffee ... just when I heard about this great news. We decided to come to his interview. I consult you. What has been the greatest content that has differentiated this from the rest of the procedures that you have carried out, and how will your future method be to reconvert your specialty?

Parapsychologist says:  there are undoubtedly innumerable connections in our life and beyond ...., But now I have found routes that I did not think I was capable of knowing at this point. And I think that now they will be more than I could count in my entire active professional life.

At that moment, his assistant called him urgently to tell him that an emergency had arisen. They both rush in and enter the cabin. And they manage to perceive that Vernarth was with the clothes on a sofa from the time of the exploits of 331 a. C. requested that they excuse him for his demands and needs, but he had a lot to propose and deliver to his comrades who were in Bumodos. Considering his beloved wife, Walekiria, who was as always preparing elixirs and essences for the restoration of the recipe for his chest and limbs. He had an urge to improve this whole process before the next Ekadashi, to enlist with new stages of his worksheet. Surely he should return to Patmos to take over the pantry and library of Saint John the Evangelist. He had to restore local buildings, house rooms, temples, regional development works, and regional art. Another elementary task was to take care of agriculture, and obey Hera's designs, for the next millennia to re-awaken from the cultures that survive on themselves. “Another of their great passionate obligations was to ride through Macedonia for the sunrises that run through the grasslands of grass and the swarm of hieratic insects, when the Oracle of Dodona made them polish their germinated seeds in the arms of dawn turned into Fireflies. He flew with his horse, appearing to be acclaimed from all over the world for his “Liturgical Conclave”. To surrender in its entirety to the pazos  of time on their Alikanto, beyond all the Eras and Millennia incapable of evading the disgraced ways by consolidating a new firmament. ”
Countless times Vernarth and Alikanto are seen crashing into the gleaming valleys and shores, encapsulated in the fields with the golden hooves of their steed, ushering in a new rebirth of their adventures, which are more than the same as God would entrust to a individual anxious to reissue Genesis or a new collaborative proposal with the Evangelist in Patmos.

Parapsychological Session resumes:
Vernarth, wake up. And she comments to those who accompanied her. ” I thought that as a child playing with weapons was only entertainment. Today I have realized that this never ends. Now I know that they are waiting for me in Patmos”. He quickly says goodbye to everyone and the rest remain undaunted by such a decision. Vernarth continues; I'm leaving with Raeder and his pelican Petrobus. Alikantus is also grazing for this long journey. Even every time he takes me away, he gets an allergy in his nose that makes him lose his nose. But my magic steed laughs at the ridicule and the decline of all doubts imposed on it. From Gaugamela who has had intermittences with his nose, but we will arrive at Patmos. The afternoon is darkening and is tinged with predominant whitish-white colors; Raeder arrived, entering through the large gentle window. They were preparing to begin the journey.

Vernarth greets him with a gesture of courtesy to Raeder, who offered to leave running from the new exile, it would be one more contingency. From that moment, he stood in front of Petrobus. Telling you; The Great Hour is undefeated in the face of the setback, it will be a great amenity to be with it.
Petrobus says: Greetings my lord! With my master Raeder we have been attentive to this moment, to overcome the best wishes of taking him to the Dodecanese and then from there to the Grotto of Patmos.  Where well known will be welcome in the house of the Evangelist. The time has come to leave ...!

“At that moment, Vernarth remembers an animal that was in a forest when he went to collect species as a child. He lunged at the animal; Vernarth looked at him squarely, then left. The animal followed him walking for several hours, until suddenly he looked to the side and was gone. He still misses this entire magical continuous event and with this cycled image of the animal kingdom. When he was preparing to arrive at his palace almost at night, he appears again before him, the animal showing him the desire to accompany him. Vernarth  looks at him and they start running, each time imposing more speed on the go. Vernarth screamed with contagious laughter and happiness. While his companion fired circulating cries that were confused with soft longings to address him by the middle ear and rule him. But beyond there, they both laughed almost turning and merging two into oneself, festively eager to laugh at the secretion that every man fills his soul, have another similar competing in a race without knowing where to go ... or why to leave? . "

React from that moment; Petrobus was blowing the room with strong and swirling winds. Raeder takes Petrobus by his golden feet and prepares for the journey.
Raeder says: Vernarth await us! We have to suspend ourselves at the dawn that glides through the winds of the wheat fields of the Dodecanseso. Petrobus will go near the iris of the great atmospheres, and will be supported by the great masses of winds that will take us to Greece. We intuit that Kanti, will then pass to escort us and join our events beyond the bend where the guidelines collide where the sea and the sky end, where Zeus will give us the good things.
  
Parasicological ellipsis in Piacenza:
Piacenza, Italy in 1887. It was right here where all the parapsychological regression was carried out. In the two-story house, he had two feline pets; Rannura and Catutto and three Tupac dogs, and three Canela and Bianca females, followed by Mara. These mysterious and resilient cats, at night they used to scare their inhabitants changing the tone of their meows by those of large beasts. But generally they were seen sleeping in their bedroom, one of them looked at them from the closet and pondered a compliment. The other was quiet near the feet of some of the two from Vernarth or Walekiria.

Its dwelling It is located in the padana plain at an altitude of 61 meters above sea level, on the south bank of the Po when the bushes change in autumn to the average of adult trees and the Trebia river meets in the west and the Nure torrent in the east from the city. She was always going to trek a few kilometers south, close to the slopes of the Piacenza hills, the first propagations of the Ligurian Apennines. Here they all passed through together, in such a way that there was no time to clean up or calm down in trifles. It was all playful diplomacy. Even when they rested, the pets teased him to continue with the ritual of running and running in circles through the groves, some flowery for ***, yellow lantanas, ornamental citrus etc. And why not name Pyramid Cypress or cemeteries...

Here his brother Etréstles always came in the spring with Drestnia from Messolonghi, Greece. Lía, the Muse who loved them both when they attended the Tuscan festival, usually came to visit him. Where he met Maddalena Tressi,  her greatest fortune teller of her regressive ancestral journeys, great inspirer of her artistic, religious and secular works at a great spring carnival. Whose name derives from the one used by Greeks and Latins to designate the lands occupied by the Etruscans, a territory of fertile plains surrounded by the main mountain ranges. The Tuscan landscape is characterized by the undulations that form the hills invaded by vineyards, olive trees and cypresses, especially in the footsteps of the Troncosada, which were and will be reunions of Italian families, of which there is no support or limestone that remains intact to its omnipresence.

In 790, a capitular of the Carolingian king of Italy, Pipino, in whom he acted on behalf of his father Charlemagne, prohibited the citizens of Piacenza by deliberately granting citizenship to those who depended on the king, thus allowing someone to escape control of this. The prohibition prevented escape from royal power. The city became famous on May 10, 1847 when the annexation to Piedmont took place, which started the long process of the Unification of Italy, which culminated in 1870 with the incorporation of the Papal States. Vernarth undoubtedly before closing the door inside his house opened it for a well-deserved new constitution of the right to acquire.

From here he went on great excursions to the Island of Sardinia in the autumn, where they lived from 1874 to 1877. Sailing trips were true insignia that shone through the waters of the green Celestine Sea. In an emerald sea between large and small coves of white sand ... on the celestial map of Sardinia, great syllogistic light of the Mediterranean for only them, with a territory full of galleries and bookstores, mainly mountainous for their walks and a half barefoot in summer, and with high chamber music peaks. The presence of Vernarth and Etréstles, attracted a lot of attention here, because they were seen every 50 or a hundred years, always seeing that their environment appeared the same, but humanly different. Sometimes in this territory, there are large areas that remain magically intact, inhabited by deer, wild horses and birds of prey, rich in forests with ancient trees, ponds and small desert areas where they both rose, to dissipate the sea that reigns with its colors and it is insinuated in the hidden coves, along the coast and on the beaches in the most frequented towns. The Emerald Coast, on account of impatient dreams in a little gem such as Porto Cervo, Porto Vecchio and Porto Rotondo, the latter facing the Gulf of Cugnana.

Great commotion attributed their curiosity to them as they were older, and where every millennium to be inaugurated they went to the nuragic complexes scattered throughout the territory: Unique monuments in the world that serve as testimony to an ancient and mysterious culture, dating from the fifteenth century to VI BC The nuraga, built with large stone blocks, were developed around a central tower in the shape of a cone trunk, which transmits solidity and power. These are archaeological sites where signs of ancient rituals and domestic life can still be found today.

In this algebraic cradle, it is where his Liturgy will connect linearly with Patmos and evangelization methodologies. All the seasons of travel to this mysterious area, he summoned them to meet and plot the 1,020 km. Where no thread of life is left unpatched without their repeated prayers before each glass of wine served, not even in the darkness of the Mausoleums themselves of the Troncosada, noble family originally from Venezia, in the early middle Ages.


Ellipsis in Tuscany, Villa Gamberaia
Vernarth, and Etréstles and Valekiara, are approaching the coincidence of Tuscany. Once they stayed in Sardinia, a coastal sailboat transported them in the middle of a stormy day. It was a great happy day to arrive in La Spezia.

They arrived, in a bright cart devastated by the olive trees, near the Villa Gamberaia, after eating some bacon and cheese sandwiches. This villa was originally a country house, which was owned by Matteo Gamberelli, a bricklayer, in the early 15th century. His sons Juan and Bernardo became famous architects by the name of Rossellino. After Bernardo's son sold Jacopo Riccialbani in 1597, the house was greatly enlarged, then almost completely rebuilt by the next owner, Zenobi Lapi, documents from the time mention a limonaia and the landscaped bowling alley that is part of the garden in today's design. Here they parked and at night they followed the Liturgy, highlighting those that coincided with Lent of Easter, where one day they were seen talking with Petrarch and Laura de Noves. Here Vernarth with them offering the modest auction that without a doubt would bet one day on this Villa of immemorial centuries with great challenge to its ruse, and of such architecture.

“A little more history…, The flower bed was presented with French-cut broderies in the 18th century, as can be seen in a detailed map of the estate described by Georgina Masson. The olive trees have always occupied the slopes below the garden, It has a distant view of the roofs and towers of Florence. The monumental fountain set on a steep hill on a side flank of the garden terrace has a seated god flanked by lions in stucco relief in a niche decorated with pebble mosaics and padded masonry. ” Here at the Verbena of a long feast day, everyone together with Vernarth got drunk with Corinthian Wine, which they brought and did not stop from the swing of the rhythm of the music that made them foresee their multi existence beyond their limitless sensibilities.

The parapsychological plot took them through multiple spaces of their frantic journey, as if they were being recently procreated by their heavenly and earthly parents, before they resumed the end with Kanti, Reader and their pelican Petrobus. This outcome would mark a new path of valleys on valleys, to shelter and fill their memories, especially their great navigation to the Dodecanese and Patmos, so close and intertwined with Sardinia as two islands united by the same new ocean in which we will have to navigate, and domains to ride shipped around the world.

To be continued , under eition

The truth of the matter is that when I say I don't matter I really want you to prove me wrong. The truth is sometimes I need to hear the things I feel are lies because all of the time I live with this doubt that shrouds me in a feeling of emptiness this feeling I feel I know too well and won't leave me alone till I'm dead, till I'm cold. Truth is I never mean to say some of the things I say but say it anyways because what I want to say is too cliché. Truth is I am not myself and I never met myself but I know what it is that makes me who I am and that's not just you, not just me, but my friends and family, those that surround me because I don't fit a mold of society I just shape myself because no-one can seem to make anything with me, so I just resonate with those whom I designate a place in my life a place in this strife. The truth is my rhymes sound so familiar to you because they're fragments of the few who you know who we've shared in our life and glimmer and shine with the best years of their lives. This is the truth as I know it and I'm not afraid to show it

School is a cage
You are unwilling to change
You are unwilling to adapt
you are unwilling to educate me
I am not educated at school
I am tortured
I am not allowed to learn
I must do what you designate for me to learn
I am ROBBED of a proper education by you
I am not allowed to educate myself during the hours of mandatory prison allotted for 'Education'
I must educate myself in spite of you
I must chase knowledge that you will not teach
Tell me, Uncle Sam, Why are you doing your best to make me hate learning?
Tell me, Uncle Sam, why you have destroyed my national pride?
Uncle Sam, why do you lie to me?

We ponder the issues of pigmentation on the
realms of our vision that have institutionalized
our wording in this closer but further apart world
of one, two, three too many to mention on the diversity
of our species. We ponder that alluding question,
do you not like me for the pigmentation of my skin.

But then I think beneath the pigmentations of the white man,
"white man, do we look white? no where like an
un-cooked sausage is that racists when I say it myself?
but you utter the wording of not what we are humanity,
but the epidermis layer that defines each of us.

But we view with a narrow band, we are not
born blind we see each as neutral not defined by what
we are seen. But words contaminate are thoughts to what
we know as adults we see. But reflections are more than what is
seen, look upon ourselves for when we pass upon to others.

But the reality of our existence is questioned when life is
voided and our skin is but dust. Inside we are the same for
what is a skeleton the core of our being "White, Not other
than what our pigments designate our skin to be. We are all
the same inside there is nothing that can dismiss that, all are
as one humanity bleached of all outer dictations singular
as one we are all the same inside.

Does he think I am trivial?
You do not find peace
If you avoid everything.
I need answers.

The truth can hurt, though.
So do I really want it?
I wonder if I leave
If it will solve his problems.
I designate myself: the culprit of them all.

my slipshod heart
creaks along
i was taught
to make
the best of things

but waiting for
some one to die
is no song

my myocardium
is imperfecta,
apparently...
won't last too long

used to be,
not a problem.
but now age
is catching up
with me.

sad thing is
i am only twenty four

hard thing is want to live more

so like a ghoul
i wait for someone....
hopefully not a mate
to make some sort of
fatal mistake....

cannot lie...sometimes
would be easier
to just lay down and die...

but it is my life's
designate
to sit on this
sad razors edge
and wait