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Julian Sep 2020
I famigerate without taciturn timidity the straits of a straightened jury-rig of nesiote narrowbacks harping the accordion zest and zeal of the plenilune consuetude of a scrivello infamy sprung into the rows of rip-tide acclaim hamstrung by the decline in fastidious upkeep of the timberlask vesicles that avoid the phenakism of prismatic reformation fundamental to transmogrified simpers of dismal saturnine darkness encroaching on the parallax of realms within the dominion of the Almighty for the omniety of the usucaption of the fruitful prune in the priggish afterglow of a noontide eclipse bereaved of whispering retreat in the hallowed wasms of stiltanimity becoming an entreaty to ecumenical barbs of propriety selected without intimacy to folksy bibliopolists but rugged in sterling tribute to the true vine of the appointed ways of sacerdotal triage among a roughshod vanity of a derelict world marveling at otiose rejoinder rather than true spasms of tragedy flickering in the recessive alleles of a careworn culture. The travesty of Beirut is the bromide of current leapfrogs of sentinel lust and malapert destruction forming an ironclad camaraderie with chocolate-box langlauf disasters wed uxoriously to the penury of the brackish version of the catadromous bailiwick of despotic nescience pregnant with sophrosyne redemption at the cusp of a plaid perfunctory quip of quisling intimations of the sketchy provenance of humdingers of comestion lurking in the plodding prowl of a ribald wiseacre of a beckoned billow of trinkochre welded into a conscientious blarney that awaits the popinjays that sculpt brittle redshort fictions into awakened carapaces of a limacine reduction of impoverished fulmination into the neatly sworn footprints of a geotaxis shuddering with magnetism only in spectacle without the overhailing zeal of vintners who specialize in curtailed wine drawn from Caiaphas and soaked with the muddy turgid Siloam as avenues toward the repentance of asunder becoming marginalized as a whimper of taciturn choleric war receding not even into an audible delope as the masterful chryselephantine assault of cryptic auditions in the theater of effete refuge sink into the pelagic oblivion of a remarkable blister festering into inconsequence as the rebarbative emoluments to tattered travesty hearken a battle-cry yet emanated in the reprehensible bulwark of the gerendum of a poised plastered humility aggrieved with such friction turgid on rollicking magpiety that even the larceny of brutish renegades of triumph sink beneath the brevity of accident rather than the fortitude of globalized turpitude weakened by the improper demarche of fuliginous homeless depredation of innocent bystanders flocking to the harvest of war found in insight rather than the perfunctory bromidrosis of the macroscian enmity of hidden maleficence spawning a credenda that is spayed on arrival in the faineant zoolatry of a spelunkers’ madcap dash to flex the filigrees of turmoil in resentment of the amicable truces of a God who never tempts and a lurking lie that never itches for trigger-happy hapless rebukes because the skittish skirmish of futilitarian repose is a scoundrel of the profligacy of errant weakness blinkered by the humdrum din of deafening semaphores of provocative thornbush on the threshing floor of cowardly imposture president of all affairs of spirit and all renegades of caitiff megalography of forgotten oblivion despite the curglaff of vindictive and never vindicated assaults on the integrity of the birthright of Lebanon to wager a presumptive gamble of trifling retribution for the alacrity of suspicions eloping with forbidden mistresses in the humdingers of flackey rather than the troudasque harbinger of a lunacy impugned by a restive triumphant fallow time seasonable for a litany of pretenses demassified for a liturgy of seances with eldritch commiseration in the saw-toothed serration of selachostomous bravado wielded by likely or unlikely culprits of ravenous ruin shepherded by the guilty cardinal sins of the complicity of explosive vanity marauding on the ruins of a fortress debased by pettifoggery of internal excuse rather than the wrath of provocative ire in the irksome cauterized wounds of the inured to deliver spectacular reticence despite such grievous diacope. Evil gilderoys of maleficence carve the sapwood of the periphery to aimless subversions miscarried by the modern atrocity of glamour memorialized as a sound-byte underminnow of a roaring rhombos rip tide as stocks wavy at the curvature of edgy demarche despoil the denuded wasteland of cultural despondency a wagtail to the impudence of famigerated affronts that deserve a sterling recompense wielded by the onerous and operose burdens of a prone decubitus of aboriginal bread seeded from Heavenly realms dissipating into the roars of blinded conflagration too meek to even exist on the ramshackle hillside of a barnstorm of aggression powerless to encapsulate the nexility of unspoken allegiance to destruction rather than the halidom of consecrated marriages balking at the caulked provisions of a slugabed monolith of craven capers on the recesses of abeyance in the interregnum of a time where famous people communicate with me. How can such a charismatic bravado of lurking presidency stoop to the denizens of usufruct in licentious latitudes on the outskirts of consideration even pretend anymore that the vacuum of effluvium (Gal 6:7) can be mocked and milked into the row of centuries blistering through the calenture of apprisal and heaved awakening as the zephyrs of the Occident meet temporal juncture with the coenesthesia of a hibernating trumpery formed by the turnverein of listless lethargy billowing through fumiducts of siphoned lavaderos of hypogeiody that the underground spasms of cacophony could marvel at the historic emergence of a magnate with the most powerful magnetism of God shepherding the true flock John 10:27 because he is willing to be the good shepherd and potentially die for his sheep John 10:11. Remember, whenever you hear a Queer Studies Radical Feminist bloviate on emasculated sardanapalian posture John 8:44 and even though personified as a masculine titan of bulwarks of immense otiose wilted inkburch shielding the world from true meaning, the maskirovka of the Devil is present in the dark trespasses of personal abandon among the wilderness of many marsupial jackals of martles wagtails to an invictive proclamation of invulnerable sappy sopanaceous filibusters against hefty sinew forged the bony fragments of the charnels lost to brief epitaphs never mourned in threnodies worthy of remembrance that the departed died with us and live again through us whether in Heaven as participant or on Earth as an acting battalion of the skullduggery of the mystique of shimmers of God acting on Man’s behalf 1 Col 1:15-16. That the firstborn of all creation obtains supremacy through the finalisms that I seek as the captain of trailblazing untrammeled roads we are reminded of the narrow and wide gates expanded by the explosion of thought that trespasses into the hidebound ratchet of a reasonable bleat becoming a harsh outcry of justice for Lebanon that they feel so powerless in implosion what could aggrieve potentate civilizations to the precipice of global maleficence in destruction. Swarming for alveolate hominid hominism as an outgrowth of alienation by design polarized spectral dangles at jaundice flamestun by the ordeal of oppositive barnacles to the chryselephantine habituation of a masked menace of Procrustean authority to muzzle the free license of armamentariums of a latent man keen to the kenspeckel visibilia that we might have punctuation in the poised primiparas of a hearkened unprecedented in modern history that the traipse of lapse is no longer the tenure of mindless calculation of authoritarian gabble sentries of a mobilized fleet of embodied human ignorance but a foisted sprite of whangams of apothegm that deserve in their gnomic respite from the phenakisms of a philogeant kumbaya assertive in its treony of radical compassion for those who dwell in tentpoles of revelry bound not to the covenant that sent us into light and sparkling in hidden obsolescence that the fulgurant words of Mount Horeb (Sinai) are both immaculate and without trace of sin because Acts 17:30 declares a powerful truth lost to the twinges of time that issued peremptory governance of my theology but through remission I admit the grievances of septiferous blockades of ponderous plodding nescience haunting the spectral aubades of paeans to a high-flown sun darting through galactic space apace of the velivolant sails of divine wind that come in the spree of recompense authored by the vines to which all roots belong rhizogenic and immutable because the demarches of time forget the marches against the cauterized grime of new-world suspicions of aleatory fickle gubernatorial proclamations that issue reverb more than sprinkle flanged atrocity in the sight of the holy ramparts of an active double-edged God who reminds us of our many witnesses but provides not a single latchkey of escapism resident to many hapless homes of the drunken sing-song rhapsody nullifying the psychotaxis of the motatory miserly Draconian charades of Leviathan grasping the tridents of warp-speed revisionism in a benighted world overrun by mandarist fictions that fumigate a pasteurized control of cultural malcontent in situations of dearth infested by the concentration camps of China that remain unheralded in brumal and brutish indoctrination spared from worldwide outrage by the tribunes that are complicit more in malfeasance than they are celebrated for the herald of heinous bletcherous crimes of abecedarian abligurition anointed in waste rather than refined like unquenched slakes of eternal water so that no man can thirst hungry for the daily bread without returning to the providence of God awakened. Recalcitrant by the impudent quislings of repugnasket flarmeys of advenient flummoxed besieged clairvoyance I bask and beaze on the light that never fades because of the brackish whisk of a barnstorm of allegiance that is contumely to a bromide society listless in inferiority of intellect to my former streaks beyond jejune reiteration of the Jehu mentality against the canine fate of Jezebel and her faltered ministry of ewnastique waged as battalion gore of a trifling musket of an aboriginal swim through the oceanic gaze of peerless eternity squirming because of flagging resolution among the spandrels of incommunicable largesse lolloped extravagantly not just for the spoils of hyped pedigree but also a chamade to Heaven to enlist the purblind vestiges of a crambazzled Earth rejuvenated in adolescent esprit rather than callow eclat against the outrecuidance of whimpered miserly conscientiousness that exists in a shorter frame of reference than the provident dashes through a furlough of time and ancestry to cobble together a lapidary bristling excoriation of the tumescent squabbles of mystique brave enough to rarefy the humid pasteurization of a mannequin kenspeckel still-frame jilt of jostled infamy brusque in its curt envies borne of still-born promenades of a whasper between the youthful ligony and the intrepid soul of a collective warrior debased by the adscititious participant to elegant effronteries of the newfangled intellectual vogue that is the grombang of the tralleyripped hamshackle of ostentation meeting mirrored paralysis in sheepish ewnastique creations meddlesome in their ironic frizz of recursion as I lounge on the habits of creation by intelligent lurches of design that appointed the demarcations of all creatures and the mysterious bridge between the missing links that remain elusive to the flombricks of the misery of epigenetic rhizogenic imparlance of desuetude cringing at foresight littered with the disaster of ravished hindsight blushing at the limpid degeneration of the vapid varnish of benighted ligony rather than heroic strides of stoic-epicurean compromise in the apolaustic pursuit of the one eternal God present in rebellion but never the temptress of mendacity and mendaciloquence because the tug I have on speed is ratifying a cauterized casualty in the spumid betrothed wicked snuffs of extinguished furor for a time beyond barnstormed racloir rugged origination and faulty phenogenesis that escorts mythos into actionable litanies of the awakened breed scoffing at the inkburch of “Electrolytes”-wernaggle that besets the queer fascinations of a warped generation. The pytherian swank of artrench embodied in the recocted rendevation of hypetrophy in hubris swaddled by the reductive dranger polluting the realm of compliant complicant complaints of the ashowel of albatross astroud in the hibernaculum of langlauf rather than the ultramontane fiduciary tether to the estrockentch rather than the laureates of plevisable courage found in truest shades of vinsky not the subhastation of a gaslighted galvanization of purebred classy swivels of opportunism nor the ravenous incubus appetite for usufruct in subversion belongs to the behest of an insular nesiote flexing the flux of subversion as the candid posies of saccharine immodesty become relegated figments of the everlasting age of promised propriety rather than rigid stultimathy of hackencrude virtues of virtuosos that marvel at troudasque wonders occluded by the girlcott of Team Biden and his militarized soldiers of desiccation of trumpery and the faucets unbounded by swanky concealed epithets of regaled rentgourge by a hapless objection of the runic destruction of apothecary leniency becoming of the betokened emblazonry of scrimshank in every perfuncturation but embodiment of character shouldered by every chasm of power erected in demolition of the warped egintoch radicalism of the submerged wernaggles of the hopeless minority swimming with autodimplage few have to bear but the truest flock of God heeds my voice and has the sapience to spare themselves of contumely and invective to hearsay of invictive triumph beyond radioglare swirk to renege the musical providence of the chamades to the asterongue I often take for granted by immunifacient degrees of the foretold encroaching upon the crux of a pivotal and pivoted destiny not distant from cordial providence. The sweedle of epigones for the risctender of obligation to subvert the coryphaeus with the rigmarole of gentincture borrowed from the Gates’ formulaic effleck of perverse warbles of collectivized contrition for abetted cultural pederasty limpid in its achieved objective of the crudenzy borrowed from a lacking impediment to arentrum belonging to the knowledgeable happenstance of the glorified dengonin is a denostram that forestalls the agelasts behind porsters of culture rather than legitimate mainlined contamination of wellsprings of fliction of paranoiac enthusiasm might swim in kinkativy blinkered blind piebald girouettism but never dauntless in sematic entrenchment of robust dilettantism as the swaddled corrugation of time into centripetal ****** against centrifugal modernism that alienates propriety while estranging by vacuous vacuums the outspoken progeny of the surviving age beyond the Jay and Silent Bob travesty that manifests as a glower of menacing Bushian invention to tarnish with ****** mythos the drapes of a defenestrated realism of the flinkers of sheepish indignation against many drakstings of intonorous sclerotic mandibles of crackjaw chockablock annihilation of core precepts and institutions indelible from the face of a quixotic entreaty of a ragged intrusion of ageotropic monoideism above the secular-clerical fidelity of honest witness borne of triumph and tribulation festooning the nativist hyperbole into a useless effigy of mountebank imposture silly in precision and purblind to gallantry. Yet I must kisswonk rather than truckle under such ponderous pretense because of a sertivine certainty in the thickets of prudence rather than the tomfoolery of humgruffin impudence scaffolds me to a post-modern ****** that shanks through prisons of guilt and burrows an interrogation of reality supreme over all complaint that the virtuosity of the Gifted (the elect flock that comprehends my volcanic diatribes against mandarism and stomachs them without sardonic pastorauling insults of passerby vicissitude) will spare many nations of awakened perjury against human instinct in the fitness of nations to denigrate the populist squalor of lurid and livid ewnastique wernaggles of the listless buttress against my formal modesty encouraged in all affairs even in aggrieved humility belonging to intimidation rather than spawned jostles through the rumpus of shunamitism that might rankle a later age.  Yentrified morality is a personal flapdoon against the promiscuous pederasty of freewheeling ophelimity and the lurking narquiddity of the traindeque of donnist hedonism to hijack my psychedelic tolerance into an unwarranted and inadvisable sanction into the netherworld of the frinterans of cultural modality that curdact religion into a cosmetic cosmogony rather than a soldiered infamy becoming a beacon on a towering hill growing in solidarity with the pleonasm of existence itself which surpasses crude formulas that already abide by the riches of decorum too much to be admired as trigger-happy fools run the asylum of domesticated irony and the librettos to downfall rather than the wassails of “The Man” becoming more masculine in featured charisma rather than defiled against Leviticus among others who preach belonging to nuclear creed without fission but for true rapprochement to the fusion of the treony with legitimate gripes of unsung complaint among the masculine minority. The traindeque of a baseline complaint aggrieved by the kilmarge carapace of stiltanimity for the hackencrude resentment of the inkburch of illiteracy is a profligate degeneracy lurid in hyped enmity that the envied entreaty becomes the despotic shadow masquerading in shadows blossoming into the full wisdom of the mature sophrosyne heart eager to pour out blessings upon a conservation of recycled epitaphs becoming hearsay in a rebarbative convolution of redacted rigmarole incendiary to whittled henpecks of political engineering but never vapid in their flagging insistence upon an ecumenical toleration of the brooks of modernity and compromise upon which much felicity is aggrandized and permuted against the spoilsport frinterans who encage a dodgy moralism in wilted etiolated jaunty pedigree that espouses the maudlin grievous and ghastly ghouls and sprites that haunt the fictional hobgoblins of the Potemkin Village that finds usury convenient and perjury even more facile for the glib facetious engineers of modalities of hatred unsung by the ribald witwanton “I got a Solution...You’re a ****…South Carolina What’s Up” crowd that never marvels at ingenuity or rarely attempts it in the summit of the climacteric jaundice of hidebound whemmles of ridicule sparring against spartan flagitious wiseacres of genocide of ideation for the revelry of armed missives denatured by raw promotion of the questionable ethics of a flavork of needed slakes of unquenchable desire swarming us with daily temptresses not of wayward women but the disarmed pretense of a lapidary rejoinder to a long expatiation or harangue against hackencrude curdles of rowboat injustice masquerading as sentinel savory destruction of the towering edifice of proclamation. There is great menace in the casuistry of sophist philogeant philocubists dicey with destiny for mincemeat puppetry against sciamachy for the gallionic rise of gammadions in the craven lore of baseline pasquinade rallied to the insuperable causes of tribal shibboleth anointed by secular totemisms of fracture and fricative hisses of lineage that amount to pleonasms of brassage rather than mystagogical mystique of the prestige of human fraternity that shatters paradigms of creed and invites an honest vestige of Noble Savages to roam the Earth yet again unencumbered by lugubrious welters of misnomer and malapropism wagered by artifices of guileless supremacy that is cursory prima facie neglect of even the sororal duties not of sophomoric glib facetious cowardice of backbited backlash of venom militarized for the desuetude of entertained visagists sculpting *****-nilly their version or verdict of decisive apartheid when we should all rally behind the united frontier of the chosen flock in the chosen generation to truckle beneath the pews not of ignorance aggravated by the polluted kilmarge egintoch puritan barbs against publicity choices I now regret (as an emolument to an incredibly euphoric track with a poor miserly message to the enchanted flock inoculated from such diversions) because alighted upon the quenched thirst of salvation I will be judged more harshly as a teacher James 3:1 than the rest of my flock but gifted with the gratuitous salvation carved from the chiselers of ribald infamy capering around with dacoitage and ladronism of the bomans of unsuspecting quixotic caprice I must reckon with the burden of ghoulish shadows on the spectral imprint of my eternal soul relishing in vicarious splendor yet bereaved of quintessential love 1 Cor 13:4 that is necessary for the nuclear conclamation of vibrant hues of resplendent and refulgent providence necessary not from a dynastic perspective but from an aimed providence that alerts dynamism rather than chides with mimes of useless schadenfreude carved from the prestidigitation of the wicked condemned in Galatians 6:7 for the mockers of sanctanimity accorded upon me as gratuity that no man can boast my elite ears and my astute wonderworks of imagination qualified me for prophecy and among the most mesmerizing prophecies registered to fulfillment that the world has ever yet witnessed because the watershed isn’t a bridgewater for the chavish of ignoramus hatred congealed into thrombosis but the narrowed gate enlarges to encompass the swath of man amenable to the flocks that escort me into permanence rather than regale the tridents of a hedonism that elected me clairvoyant at a cost of immaculate splendor registered to the holy clergy of the Sacred Catholic Church and the broader Ecumenical Endeavor that tries to be a seamstress and bridge elemental divides inherent to divided approaches to liturgy which flex their strengths in times of robust fortitude rather than become a subhastation to the vestiges of the pilgrimage to false tabernacles erected by people cozened into charlatan endeavors by the pernicious and persnickety whiplash of Least Common Denominator subversion of widely heralded sentience and sapience enriching the lot of human ambition rather than stoking useless conflagrations of refracturism accorded to the swallock of primposition of the hackneyed hackencrude that swivels with the odious ornery pretense of overtures not to apertures and lychgates of the true abiding Heaven felt on Earth by many Christians whether in sobriety or not without the evil maleficence of a misguided donnism of narquiddity for the grambazzles of aged recklessness aborning on vacant responsibility that is rickety in its magnanimity of absolution because of the ulterior chase for bottom-line top-dollar oligochrome foisted by the cartels that blind true spiritual insight from ever reaching the magnitude of ambition required to shape mountains of revolution among the tertiary squabbles of a conversant Earth open to the troudasque gallop into yield and cloveryield for repcrevel reforms the paludism of the swamp remains skittish about conforming to because objectivism is a renegade of perspicuous light blinkering in hubris and gourmandizing the hinderbaggle of cosmetic pollutions aggravated by the plevisable articles of envy and TLDR politics to “Electrolyte” logic that is a sad recursive wernaggle of the useless buffoonery of humgruffins of tatterdemalion spate rollicking in the magpiety of a timid consentient faltering myth of unanimity among the beleaguered rainbows of many lugubrious tears showering bickering blasphemy upon the mockery of God for the pleasantry of self-aware sheepish resignation that professes only that any form of meritocracy is existentially unfounded only because the beehive elected its progeny the scepter of the ironclad kingdom that wages war against idolatry and serenades heaven with luxury simultaneously. We are all shepherds of providence and there is power enough in collective prayer that we don’t fiddle around with bodewash in mistaken identity but riddle the persnickety blemish of the fastidious critiques of biting sarcasm as a tantamount blasphemy and a criminal repartee of sardonic cloys of inanity foisted above truth. The peevish breedbates who scour my evidentiary pillar of chiseled vertebrae of unbroken bones of solidarity with oikonisus will be sorely disappointed in their truthful audits of my true perception because in every single case it exonerates me from the pulpit of menacing idiots who scrawl random gabble in attempts to sound smart while reeking of iniquity wrought by the gavels of predevoted inferiority of complexion and attitude that gravitates them to an insensate benumbed transmogrified bailiwick of an appalling atrocity of mythomaniacal myths spurned by consensus among those who prize my grandeur above the superstitions of the illiteracy of the rancid rankle of otiose stupidity writhing its own sheepish envy of arbitrary dislike motivated by feminist aggressors waging warfare on turf I already conquered by swaying the intelligentsia to beckon my cause rather than pillory me on a false scaffold of frinteran abuses of the nyejays of bernacle that junediggle in the taradiddle of the nanciful excoriation of my leaden corpse weighed down by the witchcraft of connivance trayning its own delicate myths while avoiding scrutiny for appalling contumely that deserves an audience more suited for fracklings of treony belonging to the trinkochre of the rising alienation and suicides among perverted gay indoctrination that is a scourge on the planet because it willfully denies with its portentous hibbles the regaled wisdom of the culminated age against renegades of apostasy and for the behemoths of true monumental change that sizzles in savory circles among the vanguard only to alarm the Status Quo hijack of my entire endeavors as a covert crusade to use wrecking-ball fashion tactics to cosmetically incisively and insidiously perform a harprick of surgery upon a blameless countenance only for being a thorn to wragatek wragapole slavery which wages war against universal salvation because it gripes with inkburch and circular pleonasms about the most obvious glaring lies and feasts upon the serrated edge of the capers of hatred that frolic in meadows too skittish to enter the barbarian fortress of my forested residence robust in fortitude and glowering with a menacing contempt for runaround psychobabble that obganiates the obelisk of the moribund crusade to make normative ethics effeminate and to enthrone inviolable women’s speech as supreme to any male objections like the Cristiano Ronaldo accuser that came forth 8 months after #MeToo one of the most dishonest campaigns in modern history enthroned by Hollywood elites in gammerstang insurrection against pay-gap ethics done manipulatively with the sapwood of mendaciloquence like Blasey Ford whose physiognomy reeked of maudlin pretense that was so ornery in how obvious of a maleficence the intrepid Abortion Agenda has over the minds of selfish women who prefer ecbolic second-term abortions to the servile gripes of primiparas building new life rather than tearing down the scaffolds of new generations. Hominism deserves its rise because-in increasing numbers-men are derelicted by society and coerced into vapid tallespin enslavement that ridicules itself with the perjury of soul to the soulless vanity of recursive cycles of benumbed narquiddity found in “****** Hero” among other atrocities littering the human fascination with the hinderbaggle of our polluted age verging on totemic blistering hegemony of a few rotten apples corrupting the vagrant ingenuity of the forgotten champion who ushered in a new era of candor in the attempted interregnum of the United States government because I Am Hollywood got the name correct considering how many memorials there are to me in the movie industry. The junediggles of sc-ha-den-freud-e which is as deliberate of a German pun as JUDEn JuDEN which shows the German language is as farsighted as you can get and why many of my neologisms have a German tinge to them. German is an elegant language with botched syntax but a peerless repertoire of vocabulary and even though I love French, the Germans are smart because their language is smart not just because of petty arguments of pedigree which are specious at best. Being dontolesque with  the zenkidu of rengall nauclatic mythos is an artful degree which accords nominal prestige to licentiates while excorifying the obvious metaphors of sunblind logic that scours the scorched Earth of internet diatribes of sophistry and dethrones the Marcie Biancos of the world “Heterosexuality is officially OVER...K Bye” with her 145 IQ and a Stanford Degree in Queer Studies (A professed atheist by her own Twitter admission) with the warped logic to equate a heterosexual relationship for a woman as ******* to patriarchy. For someone that well-studied in literature she sure is a dumb-*** and I will demolish the syntagma of those that root against me for Status Quo preservation in the official interregnum of Saturdays during the Trump Presidency. We need an official referendum on the ideas of termagant illogical anti-egalitarian poison that derives from a deracinated worldview that doesn’t contextualize how powerful language is at shaping thought because if the entire world were Anglophonic every single country on Earth virtually would see immediate dividends in terms of intellectual creativity and limber with concepts and percepts because it is no accident the most successful empire in History the United Kingdom, was favored because of its shibboleths of Shakespearean creativity draped with flairs of the irreverent while gilded by God to be a majestic commonwealth. England and France monopolized a huge majority of history by no accident because although English might be a slightly keener language the French culture of salons of freewheeling intellectual enlightenment gilded the 17th and 18th centuries into absolution despite the Panglossian epithets of Voltaire who was ironically dissuaded from religion because of the All Saints Day 1755 Lisbon Earthquake and Tsunami. We need to be vigilant against encroachments of perceived shibboleths and more keen on an affirmative meritocracy that favors the poor and blesses the meek in their poverty and inspire ambition among them to join the coteries of refinement in thought sometimes harder to achieve with crackjaw lollops in pleonasmic languages that fail to articulate with nexility or forceful wit the true abstractions that govern the pataphysics of the unknown. Language is so decisive over human thought that it is incumbent upon every language to refine its vocabulary to trayne compendious verbiage and trim the hedges of global reform to invite the curiosity of the age to favor all creeds and languages of Abraham and the diverse progeny of a variegated panoply of majestic feats common to all parlance and capacity beyond just the Anglophonic snare because the world needs not a chicanery of blustering churlish buffoonery but an Almighty respect for the consanguinity of all to God’s blessed creation that he inseminated by his deliberate hands to enrich the world with diversity rather than cleave the world with piecemeal skeumorphs of radical propaganda that opposes the modern and post-modern egalitarian streak. One wrong must be corrected, however, the underrepresentation of Hispanics in the media and in film because this grave error is much more pervasive than the ******* LGBT inclusion narrative because these days the lollygags of fashionista odalisques with Obelisks to Baal get more say over the common decorum than the marginalized bronteum of the  rich and vibrant Latino culture which is squelched by the poverty of media and Hollywood representation. Synectics showcases how a henpecked aim at the synaesthesis of culture congregated around our Almighty Father blessed among the nations who adhere to the progeny of Abraham can be more blessed when working together rather than tribal with nepotism and aristocratic in sustained affronts to the elevation of affirmative meritocracy to the forefront of discussion rather than the froward backlash of benumbed narquiddity because the synallagamatic nature of complexity needs to be devolved with industrious ambition to all cultures and the savory flair of the vogue needs not merely a wednongue fascination with an eventual terminus of crudenzy but a sustained intellectual reformation on all fronts to standardize the English language through Hollywood and the Music Industry so that the dragnets of appeal etch a permanent trace into the engraved souls of the true flock John 10:27 are consecrated in divine purpose to reverse the Babylonian Diaspora of confused and conflated purpose that stunts the raltention of humane course and the proper pataphysical syncrisis of an evolved mundane temperament that transcends the circular traps of circumlocution common to the milquetoast industrial titans who winsomely charm with toady gestures the elitism of a moribund philosophy of intellectual thought delegation to elevate the common rhetoric to reach new pinnacles in both tribune and political gamesmanship because higher standards are required even when they surpass some common understanding so that every ambition becomes a conclave for the goal of human unity solidified by the truth of the kerygma and proclaimed to all creation as the culminated synclastic reformation of the idea of indulgence and the propriety of regaled moderation that appeases the common decorum with a shared vested interest in Latin America especially which is besieged by the cultural tenets of obrogated specialization and denigrated by the common myths of warped phenogenesis which should be debunked as a wasm of hypocrisy limited because its callous tentacles lack the charismatic fulgurant equipment of future generations to bear the operose burdens of a quintessential time of harmony united by the hymns for God by God to appease the sentries in Heaven and the celestial realms that exist for our merriment more than our detriment. The sprauncy have the  frikmag to recognize the spuria of apocryphal heresies that encourage kinship above matriotism and shared fortitude for intellectual valor rather than “*** talk TLDR” hashtags abounding on the turf of the insensate wernaggle of clueless charlatans wiggling through life not because they were borne into slavery but because they choose to be Helicopter Parents of “Baby Shark” rather than token mantelpieces of enlivened culture shimmering with radiation of Gods glory as cemented in Colossians 1:15-16 because the firstborn of all creation lives in some form in the ligature of Christ 1 Cor 12:12 because there are so many talents that exist in our variegated world that the mastery of expertise in dominions of conversant fluency will abet the variegated crops of a draped humanity corrugated on its own ironies for the delicate sizzle of beatific felicity multiplying itself in centupled design over centuries to overcome hinderbaggle while realizing the fictions of some drawflark. The strigine world concedes to this upstart rooster maybe considered a parvenu of dearth but luxuriant in riches boundless to all that draw near to the kerygma of Christ and feast on his daily bread found throughout liturgy because we should listen to people like Cardinal Timothy Dolan who is exceptionally astute (perhaps an understatement) to guide us on a regenerative rather than degenerative pathway towards universal attempts at salvation that broach a new decorum bridged by aliens to select chosen emissaries to bridle the fissions of repartee reserved for the forlorn that balk at ambition rather than relish a new era of seditious determination against the determinist fallacy and for the mental health of those coping with autodimplage and sheepish regrets and persnickety articles of remorse because all the world deserves our consolation and desperate attention rather than the trumpery of the circus masquerade of marauding agitprop which congeals into thrombosis of toxicity as the vast majority of Democrats refuse to even hear Trump speak when he is discussing discursive solutions to enigmatic quagmires,for, if more people listened to Trump they would be disabused by the specious claims of his misogyny and white allegiances because his candor is brilliant and despite the prominent advocacy of Biden who has considerable prestige in my memory, we deserve a bipartisan syncretism that unites the world and unifies the country away from the swerve of salacious mythos and towards a rambunctious magpiety of solidarity against the secular humanism of a defunct piety to Marxist feminism which is a crudenzy among the awakened men around the world increasingly alienated by the hackencrude of wednongue illiteracy even trumpeted by the vanguard as panacea when it is a comestible form of poison. We need visionary unity where there was once toxic divisive balkanization of exclaves of limited foresight clashing with new wave awakening to the persecution of illumination itself for not a rigid hierarchy but a flexible structure of inclusion that adjusts to cultural expectancy and modifies the traindeque that strands many in institutionalized poverty especially in Latin America and India and obviously Africa too. The stegophilists of language should herald the aubade of the chavish of redintegration over the squawk of din of squabbles of internecine redacted revisionism beleaguering our lyceums with toxic agitprop even at the highest institutions of learning who balk often at the recycled auditorium of useful thought because their venal tilt is complicit in squelching freedom of thought and our schools should open early so that zig-zag-zoom politics around feldtrounds who are eagerly outnumbered by the patrons who police thought become agentic not with outspoken treacheries but inseminations of intimation to hint at the spectral mystagogical reality we are all members of despite hurdles that beset the hemiteries of odalisques who seek inertia rather than mobilization. The ribald underminnow of transparency is a carcinogen of the rampant siege of Status Quo coarse hypocrisy for tentative flings with cadged cloyed saturnine professions of the landmines of atrocious miscarriage as I soldier on in the causes of the poor and the forlorn to become enriched by the glory that God delivers with munificence so that all might be enriched by the emanations of the true vine and in distaste of error I rebuke the armada of belittled armamentariums of the cantonment of deep-state breedbates boiling over potboiler frikmag that exists as a transcendent obscurantism flowering in decisive times to warp the contextual footprint of a life served in the service of all the oppressed people as a kind of Moses figure raised by the elite and fighting for the criminally oppressed and the ****** of mediagenic hyperbole is dissatisfied by my glowering spectacles because they dismount from the equipoise of the righteous gallop towards ecumenical solidarity at untimely punctuations of juncture superseding the flictions of frikmag dethroning my righteous valor and provident sanctanimity to prowl like predatory wolves the fathers of the casuistry of mendaciloquence to accentuate the stridor of inopportune squalor of the selachostomous regimes of teetotaler totalitarian freebooters who prevent bootstraps from manufacture as they gradgrind the world into ergonomic insufficiency while I provide a Kamacho-like galvanization to the broader world that favors the consanguinity of all animate sentience to the aboriginal vine of the universe that plays with the toyed cadge of oppositive support but lends credence to a more evolved view than the crudity of encapsulated travesties inserted with jaundice against the lyceum of freedom of thought and the celerity of headless horseman galloping in partial interregnum to crown the strobic stridor of the stiver of the steven of contarianism engineered for walloped ringleaders of the renegades of heresiarch sedition in their odalisque oaths to Pagan dieties carved from the sapwood of gullible Illuminati naivety that professes allegiance to the worst whangam ever invented Baphomet and his faked cronies of ewnastique free-for-all diminutive crags in the renown of dawning light becoming cagey struthious structuralism embedded in sclerotic wasms of the wanhope of a nullified message becoming a sacred creed to the attentive while the lilt of the otiose drawl in serpentine convolution a ribald pleonasm of circular circumlocution that provides locomotive linearity rather than leapfrogged slogmarches into the province of the territorial alignment of kinship against the partisan hollertrap and the stigmatophilia of obsessive persnickety popinjay beadledom the last stronghold of the rickety resistence to this Saturday interregnum which presides over the better part of the intelligentsia if not the common pedestrian parlance because hortatory weights cannot be described in any other way than metagnostic flickers of Yellow Submarine vandalism of a pristine living animation of the humane spirit that prizes the plight of the poor and the blarney and blench of unjust opprobrium faced by the institutionalized bailiwick of flictions of gammadion gallionic posture when in fact they register as seismic entities engraved upon my Christian conscience that strictly welcomes the emigrants to truth from whatever consecrated virtue they originate from because all are capable of the same light and the same compassion of a beatified humanity rather than the relish of deep-state castophrenia which belies its own ribald gay mockery on live TV as not a single twinge of ****** attraction overtakes me in matriotic sardanapalian effrontery of a hollow but sadly hallowed vainglory of the hierodules that bury the coffers of patriotism in a sad LGBTQ graveyard of landmines that demonstrate a complete disregard of the nuclear family and should be decried as an outcry against redefined Christianity bolted to unshakable irrefragable beliefs in the constitution of man and women wed together in one monogamous flesh with the occasional cuddle of close tithes to the ******* of friendship as the slavery of sin in Leviticus 20:13 falls to the wayside because this patriotic lewdness is a vapid fatuous derangement that is a new low for the United States attempt to inoculate China from religious accord with the broader world and should be seen as a Chinese maskirovka worthy of the heaviest disdain and I will disavow America if it continues to bandy the tripwires of Chinese boondoggles under the American banner and pretend its pretense isn’t lagging under its own bletcherous abecedarian elementary fallacy of psychobabble oblivion of dark saturnine brusque termagants of tatterdemalion cloaks of the selfsame illusion of a desperation of China to wreck the United States economy and inseminate Florida, Arizona and Texas especially with the Coronavirus to swing the election in Biden’s favor with or without US Complicity to expedite the course of a virus which sees no resurgence in any other civilized country in the world while the heroic Russians, Germans, Israelis, French, British and true American Christians banish the barristers of bad taste as an acerbic poison on the wellsprings of a flagitious flag I would kneel for in the knells of disgrace if the pompous and completely inoculated missives of Buttigieg ******* continue to roam shepherded by deep state elitism to wreck the opportune moment of religious revival for petty reasons of chryselephantine gambit and gimcrack for institutionalized poverty which my ambition is to heal completely by sacerdotal deeds and consecrated prayers in the Lord whose peace surpasses the temporal despair of senectitude and comforts the grievances of the aggrieved because Galatians 6:7 is no more true than the fatuous display of muscular idiots waving American flags for turpitude rather than flogging very perverse Gay men in the streets which might be a more fitting outcome even though I must remove the plank in my own eyes first to see the irony of the detested. The doytin is no longer misguided by the nanciful derision of the vociferous clangor of the venal Gates mafia militia wrecking ball vaccination Bezos crew in Medina which is a mettle I can’t match when you own every citizen in the world in a few square miles of nesiote territory the denizens of conquest besieging religious sanctity with profane outbursts of corruptible linchpins on the public lynch of the strepsis of periblebsis that vitiates commonwealths of supreme sputtering regimented clairvoyant superlative alabaster wealth of the isangelous protectorate of the supreme God that supervises his careworn flock into the storge against the scourge of prosodemic stigma stained in bleeding heart liberal bathed tears of pseudoautochiria of Jim Morrison glaring in the face of the triads that Killed Him in the French Connection ******* of 71’ that outnumbered his hobohemia of loyal jewish bohemians livid in the rhapsody of nurture rather than enfeebled by the unfurled destiny of the Soul Kitchen he foresaw to his own pitiable demise at probably the hands of strangulation because no autopsy was performed. Although repetitive Transparent is a real anthem for oracular mystagogical transcendence a mandatory hymn for the ryseolagnus of the poetic verve of a new wave swooning the cordial progressive of atmospheric oneness with the primordial vine and the vintners that congregate on populated soil to feed a desolate destitution of synoecy or synaesthesis in the syncretic rhapsody of the subfocal ageotropic plenilune yet saturnine lugubrious toil of those that shovel through the albatross of ewnastique recapitulation to the same tired “Its got what plants crave, it’s got electrolytes” wernaggle of the hopelessly dismal inkburch of illiteracy crawling like a Hyacinth House on a vacant graveyard turf guarding the legionaires of rapid-fire zig-zags through a serpentine curvature of the ligaments of fabricated space warped through prismatic lenses of aperspectival time aspiring for ventriloquial enamored rapture upon Earthly parallax with tapestries of refulgent cascading wandering wonder that meditates its own lucubration with careworn tutelage against the wasms of dying oleaginous swelters of redshort opportunistic vultures swooping with Raven’s claws against the odometer of viewership surpassing records in unspeakable wisdom that crowds out the crambazzle toonardical wreffelaxity of the tiresome nuisance of ornery brawn muscled into a formidable triage in vengeance for Jim Morrison’s scripted eviction from Earth either by poisoned ****** or by  Asphyxiation by the French Connection avenging RFK and the cultural revolutions of 67’ in Haight Ashbury and the widespread percolation of treacheries fathomed to the most obvious degree in showmanship that it bristled as an affront so severe that even the patronage of Paris wasn’t immune to infiltration. His threnodies will always be sung with Triumph that the hallowed day of a monumental soul eluding the darkness of purgatory into the welcoming aborning light of the noontide progeny of eternal ataraxia awaited him in the stagecraft tub of blasphemy bellowing ratcheted warnings that not even the palatine grasp of a potentially divine being was inoculated from the deep dark chasm of nefarious skullduggery for boasting so widely and openly of his professed foresight to glamorous to be hidden as the beacon of virtuosity that galvanized a generation to flout the  futtocks of a keelhauled vision of sanitized purblind mortality that the fear of death rarely crossed the mind of the greatest fearless poet of an entire epoch that we may pray that Jim Morrison feasts in Heaven atoned for his sins and is at peace with God now. The substratose congeniality of marginalia on the outskirts of pederasty in cultural miscarriage owned by hierodules boundless in their lurid debaucheries that they might be remanded for being custodians of hostage to a prolific nescience  reaffirming their dying posture in the extinction of sardanapalian coverthrow of repcrevel camorras of ladronism and dacoitage always cauponate in imbibed throes of lewd AstroTurf outrecuidance glowering at sanctity with a bereaved psychobabble divorced from the purebred empiricism of true giants of industry that are almost insuperable in their extortion that their darkness in deeds of Kobe Bryants assassination do not go unpunished at least in Los Angeles. His untimely death as with many others registered on the Richter Scale because Come Clean perverts from Kansas City wanted San Francisco to win to clean the mops of janitorial revenge of the subturbary rickety foundations of a flailing moral compass so wicked in arbitrage that no subreption undetected would flourish among capernoited vigilantes of poached titanism and illuminism scarring the vestiges of enigmatic encroachment upon untouchables daring the frights of the Living Daylights of scurrilous rebukes so scathing in their menacing depiction of negligent bromides of token sacrilege and scarred sacrifice of a scarecrow example of how the prosodemic scourge of befuddled turgid pristine transmogrified heralds scampered away with pseudoautochiria that afflicted Jimi Hendrix suspiciously as well. My support is behind the justice warriors aggrieved by the Beirut explosion because they deserve a vindictive outcome that quells the quislings of atrocity of the popinjay beadledom of the unspeakable tremors of seismotic popples of unrest warranted in Lebanon the homeland of Keanu Reeves a saint among men for his peerless grace and agraceries of the smog of myth evanescence becoming perdurable swings of the humdingers of berated jaundice becoming the prerogative of the revenge of a city leveled to the ground by suspicious skullduggery and I am surprised they lay dormant for this long in their protracted grievance over the ghoulish frights of one of the most unheralded major events in recent memory. We need to highlight the plight of Lebanon so that world leaders are frightened even of intimidated people tranquilized by terror rather than enlivened by the propriety of redacted rejoinders that serve the ulterior mission of a Titanic bravery that never sinks beneath the sumptuary treacle of grombang grambazzle and supercherie of the supercalendar of poignant repined repose derailing an emolument to ecumenical solidarity. Lets highlight Lebanon as an inexcusable trespass worthy of some mighty reckoning if not a riveted war but at the very least a devastated twinge of outrage.
Doo baa doo dweeb man without woman
and ye vee la lovisha woman without man
be like a tree w/o leaves, & flowers w/ no seed;
******* w/o hash; dat hash w/o ******;
**** w/o crystal & drugs w/o tranquilin;
my favourites! - smack...! without brown sugar like sugar with no sweets;
showered on her yummy sweats.
swetean ******* aye plead!
gravity w/o **** be like her **** w/o dopping
bars w/o beers; night clubs w/o Hi-ladies;
hookah w/o "chillam"; & "madira" w/ no trekkies
like a cigarette w/o lighter, & dark jungle w/o lantern,
us men & you women be so incomplete w/o love like me - the Homewrecker w/ no affairs with love dieties.
Last sonnet i posted on my LinkedIn a/c. Was about to post its IInd part either on there, but guess what? - LinkedIn banned me on their site & got my account RESTRICTED "permanently". This be the most absurd thing happened to me because i used to post my live vlogs/videos & all poetic stuffs & raps on linkedin... even i was connected with my crush either on linkedin because she is not on any other site but on linkedin... and whatsapp. Unfortunately & sadly, i can't text her on whatsapp cos the catch is - she's already married... and i don't want her get into trouble. Another funniest thing is, she doesn't even know, i have got crush on her. Poor unluckiest me - still one of the favourites of Devil's Nephew alias Phantom's Rap Devil.
I'm in a place when I smell the roses
time stopped, as well as the people that made me victim of them appossin.
My smile frozen, edged curved in time, forever to shine like michael jackson in the lime,
light, and MY smile will thrive forever to survive with positive vibes,
seein the horizon, the seas, feeling the breeze. love in the air I breathe.
Im pleased with myself in every way, happy, no one can down me.
The only way is if they ground me.
But even then my existence in a different plain.
Will still be the same, positivity is a drug I cant explain..
Ill chill Buddha,  Smoke hookah with Ganesh, And  kamsutra with different females dieties maybe Aphrodite. who knows?
arm wrestle with aeries , battle hades, Im feeling larger then life, im enlighten to Die twice and it wouldnt matter, cause positive vibe still writes and fights and chills and works for thrills.
To live it up at night, im happy for once and I thank my saints.
Cause without them, my ship wouldve been sanjked.
C S Cizek Nov 2014
The black, iron God arm punched
placid-blanched clouds, and dangled
cat cable down to lemon-vested men
with chalkboard faces.
Basic algebra, today's date, daily
syllabi, God-fearing anecdotes,
and the evils of homosexuality.

Fornicating with other dudes
is like moving Jesus' rock
with your ******'d *****.
Let sleeping dieties die.
We find them buried deep beneath
**** ceramics by T.V. criminals,
rapists, murderers, buzzers, free-
lovers, angelheaded sweethearts.
They have nearly four dollar souls,
barely enough for a Wilpo dinner
at Hepburn Diner. #2 breakfast
with one cup of Columbian cartel
coffee with a pinch of whole milk
to take the edge off, so he won't
be gripping the booth vinyl when
a "freedom" flash cop car passes.
Police cruisers are just bigger bicycles
that we're afraid of, sporting cereal
box baseball cards in the spokes.
Cops were the kids that needed help
their first time fresh off training
wheels. Training academy training
them for low-speed cat chases through
flower beds.
Sweet daffodil, you didn't have to die
like this. You could've drank straight
from the pitcher at a stranger's dinner
party potluck, seen the guts of a New
York highrise, shared the coke left
beneath a woman's botched nose job.
You could have been more than this.
You could have been more.
You could have been.
You could have.
You could.
You.
You, daffodil, stamen-down
in Miracle Gro and dog ****

could have been more.
Devon Oct 2012
beginnings  bring
everyday anger
setting slings
of unfortune
upon girls
crying, innocents
dieing
bodies disfigured
all for
your disembodied
dieties

forcing your
HATE
crimes against
my sisters
little brothers
you’ve stolen
lives.

*******

and your
selfish ideologies
they were
just babies
with hands
beautiful hearts
dreaming sweetly

you are
lifetimes away
continents apart
just pray
you never
feel wrath
of this mother
this sister
this angry girl.
the day will come when the fullness of all ones actions are realized
Chimera melons Mar 2010
Here , origami flowers , folded willingly
While I  touched only pleasure with my mind.
These hands moved under guidance of zen ecstacy
Fingers deftly flip over forms
Directed by shivers of Kali pointing out
My next act with ten thousand hands
this lotus encloses secret airs
That blew a glance turned gaze
from a plurality into a singularity
black body radiation gratifies our dieties
engrams exist in a black hole
all that matters in memory one  
overdense point S)P)E)C)I)A)L)
an orb of delusion that i will attempt to
hold with nonattachment and gratitude.

Here, take this fragile piece of paper
time form energy used by me
now it is a flower
For all holidays
And broken promises unmended
take this flower
please accept it

and when you go home
and throw it away
don't tell me
you care

This lily is for that all the mistrust, miscommunication , lies , painful fights.
But you will never know that
I will just give you a flower
next time random time
we meet .
I want to be like Punk Rock Jesus Christ
and Holy Courtney love in love.
with just a bit less ****.
I want to be Kurt Cobain
and you can Be Axl Rose

and we can change eachothers clothes
and play eachothers Roles.

You can be Milton, he wrote Paradise lost
and I can be Satan  who was the stories cost
and the story that was told was one of love too.

You can be me, and I can be you.

We can be eachother and our parents too.

We can be history and all of its men

I can be the losing army You can have the win

I will destroy you next time, in the air with a gust of wind

You are my lover baby, and we are so much more than just human
Joe Thompson Apr 2018
If you should come upon a painting by Mark Rothko in a museum -
I'll assume you are not one of those billionaires who has one hanging on the dining room wall, or hidden away in a secret room behind the bookcase -
but either way, do not just look at the painting or you will see nothing.
Well, except color. You will see color. Rothko loved color.

But wait a while and you will begin to hear it whisper its secrets:
How lives are layered upon lives;
how painful sacrifices
get buried beneath petty ambitions and lies
and joys and succes as well-
oh, and perhaps another layer or two of color.

Each generation scrapes the parchment clean
and blithely scribes new marks on its surface -
confident that they will not forget the lessons
that seem so absurdly obvious.

Empires disappear beneath overgrown vines
and dieties who, drunk on the blood of virgins
would feast on the hearts of conquered warrors
but now shuffle past each other
with oblivious nods, grousing about the food,
wait for the day someone remembers their names.

Listen and perhaps you will learn
how every layer of life is a forgotten secret
discernable only by its subtle influence
on the layers that are built up above it.

If not. There is always the color. Rothko loved color.
betterdays Jun 2014
points of dust, moted light,
coded messages,
of indecipherable love,
from the sun and this day's dieties smile.
are....
siphoned through,
the dappled, green eucalypt
to become....
shafts of godly grace,
that tickle, wrinkle
and play hide and seek,
with the contours of your
handsome face,
weekend stubbled
and lax within,
the shadows of sleep's
suburban fringe.

curled up, on your lap
your child, golden, halo haired, head,
asleep.
ear at your heart's designation,
hand anchored,
in the flannel of your shirt,
foot tucked into, your trouser pocket.

a little, love limpet,
attatched firmly, to you.

you, and the littler you lie, serene and unaware,
in the old, striped deck chair.
quiet and together in,
restful, repose.

the remains of lunch...
now just, crumbs and
sticky fodder,
for busy trails of ants
and attracting the lazy bee's of bumble, that hover and hum, above.

and book reading's are open,
unfunished, scattered on the table..... waiting for the
eventual waking...

along with the cat,
perched imperial,
and purring,
on one ant free corner
of the old and faded,
rattan chair.
he stands watch,
dotingly, over,
his dozing clowder....

this is ... the wonder of,
sunday afternoon naptime.
Callous handling
of a life's brief
   moments --
to say that we
could extinguish
the light in
frightened eyes.
To say that
we had become
   gods
in our own right,
with the unnatural
   rights
of vengeful dieties.
How did we come
   to this?
To take lives
from the natural
order of things.
We reigned supreme
in a world hidden
beyond tangled branches
of a very dark forest ...
the blackest place
within our souls.
No light -- sweet light --
to penetrate the
cold, blank night.
The victim's odd,
   blank stare.
Gods we were
exacting painful
   penance,
craving delirium's
   devotion,
craving death...
Jamie L Cantore Dec 2014
A  brisk  gale  wind
     blows  thru  my
clanking  gears-
thunder  shears-
and  my  riven ­ ears
then  hear  nothing:
but  thru  clairaudience
I  will  ever  be ­ a
master  of  everything
that   ravishes  the
world  beneath  your
feet.

The  pompous  skies
dri­nk  up  the  seas,
to  drop  thus  upon
my  eyes  in  beads;
and ­ as  I  pen  my
muse's  advice,  the
ink  disappears  from
the  s­heets;  and  watcher
dieties-in  the  third  choir
of  the  celes­tial  hierarchy-
now  have  useless  wings.

Oh,  mold  my  verna­l
features  into  a  candle
effigy— watch  them  gleam—
then  gro­w  so  low  by  high
degrees; and  the  wax  melting  by
the  heat  of  flame  -to  once  again­
downturn  my  merry  cheeks.  So  if
you  please,  masquerade  a­s  a  blessed
princess  -before   I  am  consumed  completely-
and  I  will  play  both  parts  o­f  the  duelling
princes.  One  a  man, the other  a  machine.

Go,  rendezvous  with  my doyenne madness!

Indeed  the  tryst  could  cause  my  discarnate
ghost­  to  scarper.  I  will  wrap  a  cloak  around
my Joy  and  Sadn­ess   
—pleased that I  might hide  my  spare  character; or  at  least  proclaim  thee
dressed  a  bit  sharper.
Dawn King May 2017
Read the elements
Animal speak
Call the dieties
Alter the energy
Manifest destiny

Align the chakras
Vibrate higher
Heal the healers
Protection rituals
Become habitual

I do no harm
Do none to me
I work for source
To set you free

Of the demons
That grip you
Quite literally
Dorian Nov 2017
Sun kissed, sea salted
Fine mist condensing on your
white dress
Early morning, cool dip
A resting smile on your
full lips
Water pooling in my hand
Our feet easing into sand

Through my camera's lens
the light bends around you
Flared out it crowns you
with a halo
Glowing angel

I dissipate, contemplate
what I wish to wash away
Shed sorrowed sallowed skin
on the shore of yesterday

Find a new spark! Fire! Ignition!
within us and
relinquish the unwanted ties
that have bound us
so we can begin again
begin again
begin again

I scream with my soul
to the horizon
Make me whole!
Only you can push and pull
my heart strings, the tide within me
You said you're tired of the weight
I said I'm tired of the wait
Forever is now

I'll sing through the night
if it would ease the lonely
frightened space inside you
Let my voice reverberate
off the walls of the hollow
pit you reside in when alone
Too often, I too, find my home
in the quiet isolation

Eyes closed, red glow
Floating fractalled spirals
weaving in and out of my lids
Bouyant, bouncing on the tip
of waves

I'd waste my day
melting drifting spinning sinking
drinking margaritas on the rocks
laying back with a big cigar
My coconut heart split spilling out on
petrified driftwood
You are loved and have
been loved by somebody good

My dieties gather
in the drunken hour
Sunken treasured memories
quell my delusions of grandeur
Reminding me how the smallest moments
linger

I want to kiss you deep
and remember it this time.
Leave out the spinning bottle,
sleep, and wake up refined
Tell you how I love you,
my partner in crime
We are two sides of the same coin
Harmonics in the southern cicadas song

Let's get up and out and on our way
through a city bright and new
before we're back on the road
to the unbecoming home

With new sight and fresh minds
clear conscious and the feeling
of hope and elation

With memories to slow our pulses
acceleration.

In the moments of anxieties
I am here for you
whatever our relation

I see who you are
in the moments of hesitation

I'm pulling in

feeling half past dead
Ok so I look at the world differently
Well i didn't see it until the age of a three
Gun smoke **** tokes tire chirps
Glimpse of slavery excerpt
Still a black still a black
Looking at the scene street hustler
Wearing baggy jeans
We don't see the president in the hood with limousines
Still a black still black
Money posin' my ambition is posin'
With properties finally gotta piece of monopoly
Huh still a black yeah still a black
Now they claim them love blacks
But when we speak onviews that attack
Our neighborhoods they don't want to hear that
Its like placing myself facing a gat from front to back
Yeah they still scared of brutal facts
They say life forblacks started on slaveships
Ha the first ship was name Jesus
Got our minds chipped
Preceded into a courtsmanship
But I broke the relationship
Its funny how everything is a ship
Notice that
Ha still a black still a black
Now we thinking we came far
Cuz we gotta money flexing holding it up next to a car
One thot two thots
Thinking they came up when they about to drop
Y'all can have the props I'll got for the stocks wait stop??
But you still a black still a black
Black history is always a mystery
When it comes to reality in actuality
They worked us to fatality
Muscles detached from the bone
So why they wonder why we gotta reason for insanity you see
Generational curses past down to the next one
Still against the school system cuz it makes us dumb
Still a black still a black
They teach us to hate ourselves ***** hair don't care I'm still a glare
In the midst of dark sun
Energizin my powers soon to devour
Negativty that's tries to showers
Over me lord have mercy on these
Hypocrites talking ****
About me yeah i dont care about money
Cuz it's ficiticious you see financially
We In the matrix why cuz they stay playing tricks
Wake up get out your sentiment
You still a black still a black
I used to be hungry for money but now I'm hungry for knowledge
Never starve my mind out
I carved out my success well I'm still looked to be less (bless)
Inside of a curse worse to worse
You don't think you gotta atone for all them stones ya white ancestors birth
You still a black still a black
Now this ain't start no race war but I know war
When I see it better believe it
Its the trinity dieties speaking to me
Creativity
At it's finest your royal highness
Its funnyhow  they don't like blacks
But every culture copies blacks
Hhhhahahaha still a Black still a black
I type with the curtain closed

and dabble between scud really and harsh fantasy

driven by past voices, patriarchal and matriarchal, both,


some more muffled and hidden than others,

I write with the curtains just adjacent to one another, teasing sunlight, sneaking sunlight from the countertop, from the storefront


I wish for my sanity, in solitude I wish to not forget myself, or become lost in wild reflection and lose my footing, or self that my vanity turns me handicapped, or so lost in fantasy that I babble and make no sense,

I'm asking the collective, the dieties, I understand I have willpower over this,

coincidence and chance,

rubber bands snap and rotate, hold hair, too
Brynn S Nov 2018
Hands tremble in notice
Cremated they burn
Lung seared moments forgiven
Souls yet wandered
Rise to the ashes to be reborn
Let the stars melt away into graves
The perpetual return
Swept up by chaos
You resent the smokes
Rewinding will be youth
Risen by spokes
The skeletal eyes fixed upon you
Bleating the steps placed
Shattered silence ;the dieties you’ve faced
Dathin19

Once I got release from the dungeon
Born in the tundra sound the thunder
I flash like a lightening strikes in the dark
Shadow figure there but disappear
Once the lightening clears
Got my critics soul brittle turns bigs into little once I release my rhymes it's official
Roughin' terrains with my steel bristles
Check my Valentine's massacre picture
Quoted  though scriptures
Thou father which art soon be part
Bring light to dark like a spark
To a fire
I be blazing empire reaching for higher
Destination waxin' nation' without facin'
Or tasting consequences of remorse
Connected to the source mother earth grew hoarse so I finish the course
Vocals run through emcees like a porshe
Turbo power every hour my brain showered
Til I'm flooded with thoughts leave victims distraught rippin' through words stick like a dart I'm off the chart
Welcome to Houston where jackin'stay lootin' girls tootin'
***** when I'm coming through makin' drug snafus blasting through crews
Rakin' venues enticin' ghetto blues snooze to loose take another sip of the purple *****  
My minds loose no screws in it I break gimmicks and emcess that mimics
Lay laws like State Senate fools get plugged like Bennet
Let off some steam pipe dreams
Things ain't waht it seems
Once you step to a commando with verbal ammo no need for camo
I turn basso into saprano lay more keys than a paino Luciano
Real estate makin' earth quakes once my rhymes in the make
It's all good smoke blackwoods feelin' good
As enemies taste the back woods
Worms for ya food soul elude know be crude
My mental state like Tom Cruise
And Stalin or ****** extract ya dentures where no one could fix ya  then snap ya picture
Without the use of camera my berretas accurate
Subraction you get once the click hits
Another cold body for a casket unmask it
My ****** approach you a Gabriel
But not a friendly ghost close to the coast
My heaters love to toast but never boast
Make best out of the worse breakin' the curse
Definitive dieties completed me
Nothing but them spirits lacin' me
Givin' me God like abilities takin' over mental monopolies
Reincarnated as a curse, once I made my way into the broken earth
A ***** capsule, pain through breakthroughs,
And plateaus mama I hear you, talking to ,
Me while,you was in gestation a manifestion,
Christ like, my words like Albert Pike,
Soon to spike, from the moonshine that bites,
Into my mentality, entered into another reality
Pacing, at a duality, evil vs good and vice versa,
Light circling around me, like
halos
Angels in the outfield feel, like Nas feel,
Let my words heal anything I
said it's real,
I bring life from death, air to breathe,
Carefully position my steps, stomping
On the devil's ground, though I'm crowned,
With mental thorns, my soul torn in the storm,
Fighting the weakeness from within',
With a bottle of gin, to.tackle my sins,
Lord forgive me for my waging, I'm paging,
Home early I see the lights, it's gods army coming to swarm me, yeah

Hook:
I stay drunk to myself, cruising the streets, in my girls jeeps,
Watching over the weeps, see the evil that peeps,
Silence the weak, as death makes it peaks,
I just let the liquor speak,

To myself...X2




Huh a braille man showed me the world,
Said my eyes, was closed even though,
I was seeing, what was this i was believing,
Receiving, nothing but fake blessing
Family's stressing and I'mstill stretching,
My nerves pass shell shocked, my words locked,
In all caps, I'm tombstone bound destined to drown,
I'll accept my destiny, for punishment
Of society, wise men like me, see the penitentiary
Or the cemetery, knew my goal before
I touched earth, knew I wouldn't worth,
Amounts to nothing, soon as I unbuttoned,
Expose the worlds flesh this ain't a test,
I'm hooked to the boozes crest, lay in between
My woman's breast, so I can better manifest,
My universal thoughts, everything I thought,
Was real was an illusion, see the cold fusion,
Tryna break the evil, within the Constitution
But most ain't using, too steadily cruisin,
Tryna cop wins, but I'm still loosing,



I stay drunk to myself, cruising the streets, in my girls jeeps,
Watching over the weeps, see the evil that peeps,
Silence the weak, as death makes it peaks,
I just let the liquor speak,

To myself...X2


Now that the liquor done settled in,
I see the spirits closing in,
To relieve me of my sins, I'm still struggling,
Everyday, hustling no not the Rick Ross way,
I stay with AKs, every year of my birth day,
I write a mental note to the sun dieties,
I know they smiling up, or down at me,
Depends on where you stand on the Earth's axis,
Feelin' Jackson, these demons won't leave me alone,
As I add another chapter to my tome, regained my throne,
Hip hops far from gone same tune different songs,
I spit for pleasures and pains brains to migraines,
Growing insane, I'm everywhere you stare
Followed, closely as to shadows, I battle,
Comfortable newjacks, break through stats
Imagine that, me spitting bars that's wack,
Only focused on facts, not fantasy tracks,
My words is wise, blessing in disguise,
Like Kweli, soothin' ya ears so smoothly,
Grab a fifth then let it lift roll up a spliff,
At the same I'm leaning ya over the cliff,
Edge can't shake all this madness in my head,
Guess I'm better of drunk fighting demons in my head,
Instead,

So I stay drunk by myself yeah,


I stay drunk to myself, cruising the streets, in my girls jeeps,
Watching over the weeps, see the evil that peeps,
Silence the weak, as death makes it peaks,
I just let the liquor speak,

To myself...X3
Reincarnated as a curse once I made my way into the broken earth
A ***** capsule pain through breakthroughs
And plateaus mama I hear you talking to
Me while.you was in gestation a manifestion
Christ like my words like Albert Pike
Soon to spike from the moonshine bites
Into my mentality entering into another reality
Sitting at a duality evil vs good and vice versa
Light circling around me like
halos
Angels in the outfield feel like Nas feel
Let my words heal anything I
said it's real
I bring life from death air to breathe
Carefully position my steps stomping
On the devil's ground though I'm crowned
With mental thorns my soul torn in the storm
Fighting the weakeness from within'
With a bottle of gin to.tackle my sins
Lord forgive me for my waging I'm paging
Home early I see the lights it's gods army coming to swarm me yeah




Huh a braille man showed me the world
Said my eyes was closed even though
I was seeing what was this i was believing
Receiving nothing but fake *** blessing
Family stressing and still stretching
My nerves pass shell shocked my words locked
In all caps I'm tombstone bound destined to drown
I'll accept my destiny for punishment
Of society wise men like me see the penitentiary
Or the cemetery knew my goal before
I touched earth knew I wouldn't worth
Amounts to nothing soon as unbutton
Expose the worlds flesh this ain't a test
I'm hooked to boozes crest lay in between
My woman's breast so I can manifest
My universal thoughts everything I thought
Was real was an illusion see the cold fusion
Tryna break the evil.within the Constitution
But most ain't using too steady cruisin...


Now that the liquor done settled in
I see the spirits closing in
To relieve me of my sins I'm still struggling
Everyday hustling no not the Rick Ross way
I stay with AKs every year of my birth day
I write a mental note to the sun dieties
I know they smiling up or down at me
Depends on where you stand on the Earth's axis
Feelin' Jackson these demons won't leave me alone
As I add another chapter to my tome retained my throne
Hip hops far from gone same tune different songs
I spit for pleasures and pains brains to migraines
Growing insane I'm everywhere you stare
Followed closely as to shadows I battle
Comfortable newjacks break through stats
Imagine that me spitting bars that's wack
Only focused on facts not fantasy tracks
My words is wise blessing in disguise
Like Kweli soothin' ya ears so smoothly
Grab a fifth then let it lift roll up a spliff
At the same I'm leaning ya over the cliff
Edge can't shake all this madness in my head
Guess I'm better of drunk fighting demons in my head
Instead
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2021
come the end of the year, i finally feel fatigued, a complete burn out, all the excess of calorie intake from whiskey doesn't help, not even caffeine / nicotine boosters help, i'm usually so invigorated by winter, come to think of it: winter always invigorates me: so much that's the cold so much concerning the hibernating insects... ah... yet another thought... i wish i could love a girl like a teenage boy might love a girl... nuanced... androgynous, i remember quiet clearly, i used to don long hair, clean shaven... we were in Valentine's Park once, kissing on the grass, a dozen colts walked past and joyfully screamed: lesbians! lesbians! we had our giggle... in South Park we clashed teeth when kissing, we kissed so much that our lips became numb, another time in South Park she pulled out my phallus and rubbed it admiring its size... me... i thought it was tiny... big hands, can hold a basketball in one hand, could hold one in one hand since i was 16... i wish i could love like that, innocently, naively, whole-heartedly, romantically: with a heart as soft as an oyster... now... i wake up with a hardened skull... i can feel another oyster... my brain trying to escape this body, pulverising my forehead... i sometimes feel a sharp pang in my chest... i think that's where that old labyrinth of feelings use to be... now... it's merely a sinking sensation, a thrill no less, but hardly any reason to explore attachment... to a place? sure... to an animal: all the more... but... to give up the thrill of reality to being bound to a woman?! to give up, my passion for music, hell... even share it?! i'm growing old, at 35 i know i'm still in my prime, but i'm looking much further ahead, i'm preparing myself for... at worst, "worst"... a sacrificial suicide, at best the Dutch approach of marrying death via euthanasia... or... not yet, not, just yet... but i wish i could love as i once loved, so naively so child-like, mind you: i can still **** women like i used to love them in that pageant of innocence... but... beyond that? i'm sorry... that boy left... this man is not here for some mediocre soap opera novella of a love... above-point to consider... why are cats getting all the nagging, cat-lady associates etc. cult of the cat?! eh?! what about william burrough's love of cats? only women own these: bonsai tigers?! why do i have to own a dog... dogs are great when you're a boy... since usually you run around with them, freely, care-free, climb trees while they bark with concern: you're too high up! dogs are great when you're a child, a boy, someone older usually takes care of them, you just run around with them... but as you age... ****'s sake... a dog requires a leash, a dog requires a systematic: walking to take a ****... routine... sometimes even a muzzle... almost constant attention... bonsai tigers on the other hand?! what's with this ******* cat-lady meme... where's the warlock from Warsaw meme? no leash, i can ******* and do my thing, the cat can ******* and do its thing, we sometimes meet up when eating, they usually eat when i eat... the toilet? they do it secretly, or... when they really have to: in the cuvet... i wipe my own ***: why wouldn't i scoop up a doughnut of **** of pseudo-sand?! point being... no ******* walkies... no leash... i can ignore a cat... it can ignore me... if it really wants attention: i'll gladly give it, but it has to ask for it, i'm not going to simply: give it some unncessary excess!

it began with... four letters... very much unlike
the Hebrew letters of their deity...
it began with... ∇ (del): an explosion of Y...
it began with delta: Δ...
therefore it must have begun
with the keyhole and the key being turned:
the iota bound to
Θ & to Φ...
           we'll end it there... although
we could consider... Ψ (psi) -
there's an iota in that too...
but i'm looking for the Greek equivalent
of the Hebrew tetragrammaton...
why ignore the psi? the psychology emblem /
totem... the back & forth of the tetragrammaton
"we're" looking for a name of the anti-God...
starting from YHWH...
we have the fist letter...
∇Δ: del or delta... st. peter being crucified upside
down... hey-zeus hanging upright...
the combination carves: the star of David...
it doesn't matter... in terms of how
Greek letter operate, since: the letters are also
nouns that are used in science as constants...
it makes no difference where the cut-off point
comes... we'll still get a D at the end of
d-el / d-elta... but El... is a real word in
qabbalah... in the Sefirot...
wait a a while... i'll take a sip of some whiskey
while i write down the schematic of
the tree of knowledge... bear with me...

                               keter (cown)

binah                                                 chokhmah
  (understanding)                                   (wisdom)

gevurah                                              chesed
(strength)                                               (love)  EL

                                 tiferet
                                  (beauty)
hod                                                      netzach
(splendour)                                          (victory)
                                  yesod
                                  (foundation)

                                  malkhut
                                  (kingship)

surd H, vowel-catcher H of the tetragrammaton
in all the vowels: throughout...
not the prime, vowel-spawner of
laughter present...

obviously i can't simply use H: that's a vowel in
Greek... the shorter variation of epsilon...
name... H(η) eta...
sure, in the Latin script that's...
the genesis of laughter, the Hebrew definite
article... thank god we laugh via ha ha
and not by any other syllable combination...
that would be... simply... weird...
the first "hatch" of the tetragrammaton is
source of laughter... the second "hatch", H,
of the tetragrammaton is...
in English... a source of silence, of meditation...
sometimes... the H behaves as a surd...
usually an apostrophe replaces the H...
that's as close as the English folk come to
diacritical indicators...
    'atch... 'ate... they're not as bad as the French
with their letter-eating / phonetic cannibalism:
but they're up there...
e.g. is ****- offensive? did i say
Iraqi-*******-STANI?! you, ****?!
it's just lazy speech...

  *******, read the Quran or something...
sound offends you... good! you should start
listening to people talking with a lisp...
the missing trill of the R offends me,
good & proper...
who told people a trilled-R is somehow...
unfashionable, or whatever was "wong"
with a trill of the R? rolling a ******* stone
up a hill, the myth of Sisyphus?

but i have a replacement for the H...
the laughter based H: hatchet + a-lpha...
i also have the surd H... like...
the gamma in GNOME is a surd...
you could... write that word the following way:
'NOME... why bother including the gamma
in a word that... doesn't use it?!
English isn't difficult... it's just *******
pedantic... write one way, speak another...
not exactly evolved... sort of lost between
****** speak and Japanese katakana...

a sort of an ugly merging of tongues...

****'s sake... i studied chemistry at university
to end up... suckling up to...
something resembling a resurrection
of alchemy, a romanticism associated with
the science of chemistry that can only
be translated into... a new kind of wording...
Na: sodium... because... Na is not merely:
n'ah... it's NATRON...
Fe: iron... because... it's not f'eh: it's ferrum...

so beside the instigator crux of laughter...
the surd machinery... the second H of
the tetragrammaton is also a:
vowel-catcher... at first you laugh...
then you... ah... sigh...

how hard it is... to give birth... to an antithesis
of a God... esp. if... the supposed God
is a linguistic parallel... originating in the Hebrew tongue...
being part Greek... part... instigated by
the Latin script...
i need to see the antithesis lettering... prior...

i already conjured up a missing link in the
Greek pantheon... namely?
the god behind: the phenomenon of solipsism...
Solipsus...
that placebo affair: thought experiment...
with real life implications surrounding
autism...

clearly i'm becoming a burn-out...
excessive drinking, writing almost every night...
once i could get away with scribbling
this down in one nightly session...
now it takes two nights...
two drinking sessions...
i just invested 50quid's worth of *****
for the seasonal "celebrations"...

fatigue hits me like a **** tonne of bricks...
i start caving...
better me cycling for 40 miles
than... standing, stewarding a football match...
meeting & greeting the public...
creative fatigue... this sponge of  brain is
a Brian and somehow:
Brian is "missing"..
i'm spent... maximum effort: minimal results...
well... at least as a poet one
shouldn't concern himself with cancel culture
that's affecting comedians...
i hate those monologue *******...
esp. that Carr guy...
it's funny... but it's also irritating:
makes me nervous, half-baked nervous...
just ill...
so, i just ignore him...
i try... but then popular culture
keeps pressing the wrong sort of buttons...
hey presto...
that face, i'd love to punch...
for tax-evasion schemes...
maybe that's why i feel like...
itchy-knuckles... those pursed lips...
some people just have a physiognomy
you want to either: slap or punch...
can i do both?
i feel like doing both...
no offence: joke... ha ha...
am i the only one laughing?

     i've been having problems with digestion
of late... apparently i've become intolerant
to milk... will i be drinking this almond ****
for much longer... the usual stuff gives me the *****...
does it require it being doubly filtered?!
do i need to drink goats' milk
to ease eating a marzipan cookie, & dough?
please tell me, oh "lord":  i can't be away
from not driinking milk: straight out
from the profanity of life's secondary "mother"...

digressing... no more cow milk foir you...
great... if i were a Hindu...
i can eat, beef, now?! no?!
the mother load of measures conscripting me
to not eat beef... has... fizzled out...
cow milk gives me constipation &
diarrhoea...
ergo? beef's on the menu, boys!
goat though... almond... tried oats?!
i need... milk!
cheese and ******* yogurt will not
cut it for me...
goat then... can't drink beef juice...
eat beef... or... wait a little...
perhaps the juice hasn't been
double pasteurized... doubly filtered...
i, never, quiet: essentially...
expected this...

now for the red-blooded meat!
bring it!
if the cow won't give up her milk...
for my digestion...
she best give up her red...
fission of blood... fleshy discards...
scaphism...
truly: eating sometimes... somehow
becomes a torture...
as Socrates is cited to have said:
some... live to eat...
while others... eat: to live...
i do enjoy the spices...
i do enjoy the... smoked salmon
with lemon juice & a creamy cheese...
the bagel! rounded... glutton...
like a *******'s buttocks rounded up
to metaphor a peach! ha!
or the raw herring in a
creamy sauce aligned with a dill sauce...
my preferences...
not yours...

- i hate my mother, then again: i love my mother,
my fatheer ws abandoned by his,
his father...
she's currently doing my father's nails...
i showed her a Botticelli's Venus & Mars...
the one were Venus is an amputee...
the leg dynamic...
i thought it was funny... my mother thought i was drunk...
i am drunk...
come on though... can't get a joke?!
sober people... blah...
about as interesting as Brussels Sprouts...
boring rigorous little busy-bodies...

oh... right... that inverted tetragrammaton...
here:

∇ΘMΦ...

   now, your choice of vowels to impregnate
the consonants,
the Hebrews hide them like some Europeans
hide the H... via the diacritical method
of the stupendous orthography...
Charles Dickens might have cited "orthography":
i.e. a spelling mistake...
you get orthography, when you apply
diacritical distinctions... otherwise just some
"flavoursome fancy"...

niqqud:  which implies...
kametz / patach (a ****** way of saying Ah or... Ą)
tzere / segol (again, the ****** way
of saying Eh or... Ę)
sheva - well, that's not ******...
that's Ing-Leash with the apostrophe ':
akin to 'nome... some "g" or other...
cholem - that's for O(micron)
chirek - why i, i y i not j(aded),
kibbutz & shurek - upsilon for the Greek
while an acute cholem for the ******... ó)

an appellation on behalf of the Hebrews from
a Latin man inquiring about the original
investment of the Greeks in
crafting the New Testament...

can you please... come up with an "Exodus" book,
or thereby equivalent to match up to the
"Genesis": new, thus stated...
thank you for the stated genealogy "study"...
you think you're ready? has Rome died?
has the Roman alphabet imploded,
died, like Cunieform?!
i thought the Hebrew diety either:
ate up foreign dieties and made them demons
(odd show, Beelzebub)
or... smashed the phonetic encoding systems
of other people...
so, i ask... why am i still typing in Roman?!

****'s sake, i can still give you the basics of
how the coliseum was constructed...
they constructed it using VI + IV = X!

hasn't the greatest Exodus happened,
after 2000 years... Israel was returned...
lazy ***, ****'s sake... camel jockeys!
no one is going to write about your trials
and tribulations for future generations
to understand?!
how the Hebrews returned to their homeland...
almost, lazily,
do i need to spur one ******* on
to conclude the New Testament without
managing to haggle the book of the Apocalypse?!

whales that beach themselves...
what... they'll spontaneously turn into
monkeys?!
sure... they're mammals... but it's not like
they'll spontaneously grow the sort of limps
that'll enable them to climb trees!
suicide among men makes so much more sense
when whales perform the act (of suicide)...
i'm on board...
it's not even pathetic, it's just... ******* weird...
i too don't feel inclined to belong...
we can all be jokes: ha ha... banter blah
a few minutes longer... but truth be told...
this sort of ******* has a life-span that:
i'm not too sure whether i want:
to see-through fully, to a conclusion...

best be on my bicycle and block out the world;
the world can burn...
hey... if you want... i'll even involve myself
by giving the burning some ******* jazz-hand /
applause...
because these are the times...
a comedian is self-conscious of comedy
via CANCEL CULTURE...
the poet... they ignored you, they ******* on you,
they already cancelled you...
right... so, now what? i'm supposed to stand
up?! defend comedy?!
oh believe me... this is the greatest gag around!

you didn't defend the poet...
i don't think there's a need to defend "your"
sort of sorry state of "comedy"..
must have been a very bad joke to begin with...
it's the ideal returns policy:
i give out as much love as the love that was given
to me... seems fair, seems...
equilibrated, n'est ce pas?!

— The End —