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Francie Lynch Aug 2015
Warning: Use dis list in context.*

You decide on which side you fall.

disappear
disregard
disaster
displace
disqualify
disrepair­
disturb
dissipate
disability
dispose
dismal
distribute
distrust
­disturb
discriminate
discuss
disdain
disguise
dishearten
disinher­it
disown
disparage
disagree
disgruntle
disclose
discolour
disput­e
disarm
discover
disassemble
disadvantage
disallow
dispossess
di­scontent
discontinue
disrespect
disincline
discomfort
disrepute
d­ishonest
disillusion
dishonor
dismiss
disobey
disjoin
disappoint
­discipline
discord
discern
discrete
disfigure
disconnect
disappro­ve
discharge
disbar
disease
discord
disfavor
disengage
disassocia­te
discipline
discount
disembody
displace
dissaray
disembowel
dis­combobulate
discredit
discourse
disentangle
disenfranchise
disemb­ark
discard
disburse
disbelief
discover
disable
disagree
disinteg­rate
dismay
dispense
dislodge
disclaimer
disapprove
dissatisfy
di­srupt
dispel
dislike
dismantle
disloyal
disbatch
disrobe
disperse­
display
disaprove
disciple
disavow
disconcert
disinfect
disorder­
dismal
dismember
displease
dissemble
disunity
dislocate
distort
­distrust
distress
dissolute
disassociate
distill
discect (?)
distemper
distain
distasteful
distraught
dissolve
dissonant
d­issuade

And dis isn't de end.
Lost Girl Mar 2020
Often times people say go to the gym, “It’ll make you happy, and you’ll feel energized!”

These are some of the things I’ve experienced or thoughts I’ve manifested over my teenage years. Ahh yes great ol’ puberty! Onto adulthood, yikes!

Go to the gym and lose that extra weight that your family and so called “friends” have been passively judging you for.

Go to the gym, but don’t lift weights because you’ll get bulky, and no one will ever love you if you look like a female Hulk.

Go to the gym. Go to the gym. I hear this left and right. But I fear that I’ll embarrass myself and that everyone is watching me.

Anxiety and panic attacks hold me back. And what happens when that clinically depressed person is told time and time again to “just work out” and “get out of bed; it’ll make you feel great?” What if they just came down from a manic episode and crashed? What will people say then?

Well I know what I want to say:
This isn’t as simple as the morning blues or that feeling you have after listening to a sad song that reminds you of your past. (Not to disqualify those emotions whatsoever.)

Depression is the ruminating thoughts that no one loves you or ever will. It is feeling so empty that your appetite is nonexistent and your motivation to do what you once loved is gone.

Anxiety is holding your breath and forgetting to breathe, so you just sit there in pain until finally someone or something reminds you to release.

Release all that you’ve built up. Stop the isolation, and share what’s on your mind. It’s not easy. Trust me I know.

Two days ago I went to the gym, and yesterday I went to the gym. Can you guess what I did today? I went to the gym despite every fiber in my being telling me I couldn’t.

I had the support of my mom and sister. Find a gym buddy. Start small because all the machines and strong people can look intimidating. But they all started somewhere and now you can too.

Make a goal. Something that is not too small or too large. For me, I’m training for a 5K that’s in the beginning of May. It will be challenging yet doable.

Sometimes none of us knows what we’re doing, and that’s the beauty and challenges of life. Don’t quit after one try. Your journey is now starting its new chapter. Stay in the present moment, and keep going. I believe in you.
Today was my third day going to the gym and it’s helped with my depression. But I have this gloomy feeling that I’ll never get better.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2016
England played today, what a ****-up grandiose style, glass bottle like hail flew down on Marseilles, water-canons, all kinds of crowd dispersers, true grit on the former great, now belittled, nation-state in d' hood reduced to a pitch with 20 idiots running around kicking about Charles' 1st head, and too fidgety skeletons tagged to A.S.B.O.S. tags playing puppets in a rectangle... i stopped watching the match for a cigarette break, the free-kick went in, Saturay, Tesco closing at 10pm, i took to wearing an Australian Open t-shirt, i've never seen so many funerals drinking a beer on my way home - prior it it was all gorilla chanting and Tarzan... i only learned of Tsar Putin dipping his ***** in the **** of Crimea a few minutes later.

your typical Saturday night, next door  neighbour's
trying out an alt. Y.M.C.A. with disco funk,
i guess it spreads easily this day, feel the grooves
or lined Rodin - ape-**** up my *** -
music so loud coming from my neighbour's canopy
i should be asking for canapés - after all Euro 2016
kicked off, scarf-hooligans of Moscow made
Marseilles home-turf , two Brits at the draw
in hospital, faces kicked-in, real bulldogs,
asthmatics at the end of it - conversation turned into a tour
of the Cairngorms or the western outlets...
a lot of Scottish impromptu with **** **** freckles!
gee ginger! aye fucky ***** ****!
Anglo users love interchanging the vowels for emphasis
to differentiate geographic regions -
but this one book review got me -
entitled ***** state
by a feminist -
the ugly child abusing father is a punter -
listen, if it were't for prostitutes i'd be a priest
7 years in, acne on my Richie, one ****** in,
kiss on the mouth several times, hell, the guilt trip,
poor boy poor girl, skin cream lubrication,
talk of doctor's appointments, ******* a *****,
i'd get the Scandinavia model if the girls weren't fickle,
the hand is hardly a plastic surgeon of the female
genitalia ***** - bony M... you must be talking
about ******* - ***** M...
Jesus no more the son of god than the patron saint
of prostitutes... the poor guy feels the aches of touch
while the rich boys sushi off a stripper in Billions...
i don't have strong dialectical encouraging to dispute
or discuss - i too am too blame, ask my dermatologist...
so my neighbours threw a party,
on the set-list?
Cheryl Lynn - Got to Be Real; Oliver Cheatham,
Get Down Saturday Night; Edwin Starr - Contact;
and then the one off from One Direction - History -
the DJ suddenly experiences the jitters neurotically
changing songs before they finish - midwestern horror,
Ohio or Iowa hammer masscare, excerpt from
Pink Floyd's anti-fascist anti-educationalist march,
dangly on the Cenotaph -
persona qui umbra-grata (person agreeably welcome
as a shadow) - yep, me and the ex_machina routine...
i know the feminist argument smocking pipe handy
clean for more pages, but ever hear a ******* ******
or laugh with you? if i didn't use up the profession
i'd be the buying type abusive father forever,
who the **** needs **** trips when the moment can please
twos? i'd be up against a Cosmopolitan Magazine Quizzes...
the "perfect boyfriend" types, later coverage in
psychological advice columns... but wait...
all that ******* advice about something being indestructible
in us, about us, beginning with this keen appeal to
atheism already defaults a logic behind the essential
characteristic of the existence pertaining to a psyche -
by destroying god we also resolved to more easily disqualify
the in-destructibility of the soul,
constrained, a study of noumenons, with logic application,
as if with the omni- prefix to the non-essentials of god -
logic destroyed the compatible qualification of soul
ownership, reduced, it gave us the advent of prayer
and the necessity of a god, rather than our selves,
via souls - something without deductive parameters to
cursor and pre- of the experience quickened to
argument with dis- and later -qualificatio;
the кaцaпс fought with Mongols... you think there's
a fair bet for your hooliganism in Marseilles?
well... it all boils down to two identifiers of nationalism:
parade with the royal family near St. James' park
or gut a pig in the south of France...
Wales will not bow this time, given that they're
not getting paid for their national pride dribble,
they'll ******* up... make more adverts with your superstars...
strange that, well, America has idiosyncratic sports,
i never understood the cheese-ball of oval either to the throw -
yes, baseballs makes more sense than cricket,
but you have to understand rugby before you
start crowdsurfing your *** in nappies -
the high expression of nationalism is so Joker-faced
with the Windsor ******, nationalism and a king never match
up to how Mao or ****** would have it...
and the alternative is football hooliganism...
i walked for my whiskey and beer just after the 75th minute,
along the way i met so many funerals, donning my
Australian Open T-Shirt... well, you, know,
a different type of spectator sport - i heard the rabbis
of the oval where deemed cricket tourists when kicking
a penalty through the H architecture -
cricketers are tourists, oval jerker-offs are Wallabies...
Australia in the Eurovision song-contest... oh yeah,
i'm mad... mad about Abba.. Matt in Memphis,
an Eve Cassidy moment, Sia's chandelier cover-up,
the truest form of plagiarism - the cover is better
without all the computing morphings...
oh sure, i could play the dating game...
9 years in and i had two authentic ***** in my day...
one was a black single mum who took me back
to her flat in Stratford, dragged her baby girl from the bed
to the floor, and her baby son, didn't want me to
penetrate her, tucked my **** in between her thighs,
i stopped, was woken by her son in the middle of the night,
took him and laid him on my chest and we fell asleep...
so yeah, prostitution is ALL BAD... coming from a theorist
who hasn't experienced the drudgery of lives "unexpected"
via eventualities akin to Chernobyl... given that the most
paranoid nation scared and scaring others concerning
a nuclear holocaust is the only one to set two off... two!
Pearl Harbour was an army attack on an army base...
what the Americans did was just a very quick Holocaust.
preservationman Jan 2015
A race between the Flash and the Man of Steel
This would be a competition for real
Who do you think would move fast?
Who would you think would come in last?
It’s a possibility in what could be
Imagine two Super Marvel’s in a race too see who is truly great
It would also show their sportsmanship in how they both relate
It would be a run to the finish
The winner being triumphed and distinguished
This wouldn’t be a race against crime
That story is another time
Flash moving at the speed of light
The Man of Steel feeling a bit uptight
The Man of Steel would be disqualified if he were to fly in order to win
But the Man of Steel coming from another planet, would that automatically disqualify from then
A canny detail
But the policy remains in order to preserver
It was Flash in the lead
The Man of Steel was maneuvering in proceed
Just around the bend
It was Flash being the champion at the very end
Well the Marvel Hero’s shook hands and are off to fight crime
This will be until the end of time.
Alin May 2015
when I catches of you in I’s mind
at once I converts  to a cloud in the sky
because I knows a cloud is no different than you

a basketball bounces to  draw the boundaries of a back yard
a bearer space made of sounds of a game

cloud is such a temporary vessel
carrying you’s finiteness  
or I’s desire of home coming
distances in between  disqualify
exemplifying all I ness outside
you becomes I
Jerry Howarth Feb 2022
This is not a poem, this is a story of a an 83 yr old man, that
got away with lying aboat his actual age, so he could box,
for the light weight Dallas County Iowa, championship.

"Howard is the name and these are my two knock out fists, Tuffy and Tougher and I'm here to sign up for the light heavy weight championship boxing title of Dallas County."

That was my official registration to the County boxing Commission.
They of course ask me my age and some other questions related to
my boxing experience, to which I lied very convincingly.

By the way, the way to lie convincingly is to literally believe yourself what you are lying about. I had spent hours telling myself the lies I told the Boxing Commission, so they had no doubt about what I told them about my boxing experience. I even had some fake newspaper articles about my boxing experiences that I printed on my home printing press. I'll tell more about this later in this story.

What motivated me to do this, was the current champion was the
Grandson of one of my high school classmates that I detested, because he was such a proud blow hard, about every athletically thing
he did, from being a baseball pitcher, a running back football player,
a wrestler and on and on he bragged about himself. One time when
I could not stomach his bragging and pompous way he walked, I confronted him to his face, actually his chin, as that was as close to
his face I stood. He was about 6' 4'' and I was slightly over 6'. I looked him in the eyes and told him I and everyone else in school was sick
and tired of his bragging about himself.

He then sneered a me, reached down and grabbed me by the callar of my shirt, and said. "Why you little dumb pipsqueak, you aint nothing but a hog raising farm boy!" and shoved me hard against
the hallway wall, so I smacked the back of my head against it, and was
knocked out for a few minutes, long enough for someone dumping a cup full of water on my face to bring me alert. Then ol blow hard
spread it around that I had attemped to hit him and he "just naturally" defended himself and gave me a little shove.

But back to the main part of this story, I had been working out in the city gym, working on my cardio, that's my breathing. I had been keeping up with my physical condition all of my life, so for an 83 yr old man  I am in good physical shape. I have been punching the heavy bag on daily basis and have had someone bouncing a heavy medicine ball on my stomach five minutes every day, so I have those three muscle stand outs on my stomach, that everybody ooos and aaas about.

I also sparred with young boys around 20 and 30 years old, convincing them I was just 28, by my foot work and bobbing and weaving and left-hand jabs. I still had a good head of hair, which I
had dyed a light black, which also convinced the boxing commission that I was 38, actually the year I was born, 1938

My boxing bout with the young grandson of this high school classmate that I detested, was supposed to be just a warm up match for him, in preparation for a title fight. He was the Dallas County Light Heavy Weight champion defending his title against some unbeaten
opponent. My goal was to knock him out and disqualify his title fight.

Oh yes, I neglected to mention my boxing manager, who was a young 62 year old retired boxer. He didn't grow up in
Dallas County, Iowa,  so he had no idea of my background age. He came from New York or New something.  I had him convinced that I was just 38 yrs old also. I grew up in a small town called Vermillion about 60 miles from Des Moines, where the fight was scheduled. Vermillion was a town with a population of around 2500 when I lived there. Most of the people who knew me are living under ground now, or in a old folks' home, so the secret of my age will not be revealed.
,
This grandson of the school mate I detested, is just like his Dad, a smart mouth, bragging, pompous, cocky Strutton showboat. He has no idea who I am but has already started boasting about what he is going to do t me.

"Hey, I'm only 27 yrs old and this old man I'm fighting is 38 yrs old. Somebody will have to help him through the ropes to get in the ring." "What's an old man like him still thinks he is a boxer?

"He ought to be sitting on his back porch, watching the rabbits and squirrels hop around."

"He claims to be 38 yrs old, I'll knock him out in 38 seconds in round 3."
   ,
He came to the gym when I was working out one morning to scout me out; I put on an act of being slow and winded.

He yelled at me from a few feet away, "Hey old man, my kid sister
has a faster jab then you. You sure you want to fight me?"

My manager walked up to him, and gave him a double arm shove
out the door, so hard he stumbled. "You big mouth punk, crawl
back in the skunk hole you came from."

                           The Big Fight

I was in the ring first and was warming up with little dance steps I had had learned in a dance studio, which I intended to use on him, BTW  his name was Virgil Throgmartin, but he took pride in calling himself, "V T"=Very Tuff.

He was taking his time coming to get into the ring, and when he did decide to enter, he did so with a bunch of short, skirted cheer leading girls dancing to loud music being played. When he approached the ring, two of the girls, squatted down on one knee and VT than made a big show of standing on each of their leg, and pushed himself off, tumbling over the ropes onto the ring apron.
amid 40,000 loud cheering fans.

"Enjoy it while you can VT, because in about 15 minutes, five three-minute rounds, yu're gonna have 40,000 stunned fans looking at you, sprawled halfway under the ring ropes, watching the referee
waving the fight over."
                                ROUND ONE
VT came quickly to the center of the ring with a stupid looking
grin on is face, hands down, swinging back and forth at his waist level.

I took a couple steps toward him, then through him a big surprise,
that stopped him in his tracks. I did a little two step tap dance, and in the few seconds it took him to recover from surprise, I took a quick step toward him and shot out a left jab, purposely hitting
his right eye. Over my years of boxing experience, I developed a
fast twist at the end of the jab. This little twist would tear the skin
producing a cut in the eyebrow, which it did to VT. I don't think he had ever been cut before by the way he wiped his eye, leaving his face unprotected, of which I took advantage, and smacked him with
another quick jab on his nose, drawing another spurt of blood.

VT wasn't expecting such an early barrage of attack and started back peddling. Once again, I put on my little tap dance,
to a 40,00 applauding, whistling crowd of men, women and teenagers. By now ol VT had no idea what to do with me. He took a quick look over at his corner for help. And when he did, I took a big step forward and planted to quick left jabs on each of his eyes.

I heard the fight announcer telling the radio listeners, he had never seen such a show boating boxer like Howard is putting
on. He has VT totally confused, not knowing what to do with
him. He came into this fight as a warmup for his upcoming defensive championship fight with The Rock, Rocky Argo and he is being bloodied and cut up, by what in the boxing sport is considered old, a man close to his 40's but is moving like a 25 or 26 year old. Folks I don't recall Howard in any past fights, but uh, hang on a moment Howard is moving around VT, bobbing, weaving and talking to him, I can't quite read his lips, but something about going down in uh, some round. Meanwhile VT continues to back pedal away from Howard, who is trying to cut him off....Oh! now Howard stops chasing him and motioned with his hands to come in and fight. There's the bell ending this third round.

There is some kind of commotion going on behind me.... someone wants to tell me something but is being detained by the police.
"Hey officers, let him talk to me. Folks, this is the craziest night I have ever experienced, let's see what this old man, I'm serious about Old, He must be  "Uh how old are you, sir?"

"I'm just a couple years younger than Howard. We grew up together in Vermillion, Iowa. I'm 81 years old and that old man in the ring, he was known as "Howie", is 83 years old and...."

"Hold on just jack rabbit minute! Are you telling me, that Howard,
  what did yu call him? Howie, that boxer in the ring, beating VT, the current light weight Dallas County champion, is 83 years old? Is that what you are saying?"

"Yep, dats whot Im sayng.We growed up t'gether, in da same school t'gether, wrestled and boxed t'gether, and I'm 81 years old and he was alays 2 yars older'n me, so I knows he is 83 yars old.

Folks., getting back to the fight, VT is circling to his right to get in position to throw is left hook and then is right overhand knockout punch. I think Howie is aware of what VT is trying and keeps circling to his left.


This is the  the round Howard bragged he would KO VT. VT is coming out in his usual swaggering way, Howard had him intimated in the first four rounds, with his little dancing jig and blooding his nose and eye. VT wasn't used to that kind of pressure, but his corner manager and some others that joined him, gave him a little pep talk, and so he has regained his confidence. As usual Howard, try's his little tap dance as he approaches VT, it's gotten a little much and no one is cheering it.

I failed to ask you, old man, your name"

"I was known as "The Rock in Vermillion my real name is Rocky Argo. You said dis is da round Howie is going to lower da boom on this young feller?"

"Well that's what he told the fight reporters in the newspaper. But frankly, I have doubts that he can do it. Thus far all I've seen from your friend is a few left jabs. He hasn't used his right in the entire fight."

"Well you just keep your eyes on his right; what yor going to see is a flurry of left jabs, and out of nowhere his right and will suddenly show up and that will be the end of the fight."

Well folks there is just two minutes left in this round, if Howie is going to KO VT, he is going to have to get more aggressive than, OH! Howie just connected with a double left jab, and another one and he had VT weak legged from a barrage of jabs. He looks like he is about to go down OH WOW Howie hit him with a straight right hand punch right between his eyes and VT is on the canvas, trying to get up, the count is up to 5, 6,7 VT was up at the count of 8 but collapse. The referee is waving the fight over, and the Dallas County  light heavy weight champion has been knocked out by Howie Howard in the 5th round just as he predicted."

"Let's listen as the referee announces the winner of this fight."
"And the winner and NEW DALLAS COUNTY LIGHT HEAVY WEIGHT CHAMPION IS HOWEEEEEE HOWWWARD!!

Howie, the talk around the dressing room is that you are 83 years old. Now tell us your real age. I mean, a 83 yr old man can't do that little jig you did tonight and beat up a 27 yr old. So c'mon and let this crowd and thousands of radio listeners know your real age."

"I was born on the twelfth day of July 1938, if my math is correct that makes me eighty-three years old, and that's the absolute truth."

"Ok, so tell us how you have kept in such physical shape to be able to
dance and beat up a young 37 year old champion boxer as you did tonight?"

"Well, first of all, I have to give God all the glory f or entrusting me
with an extraordinary physique. I have honored God many times in many ways because of this extraordinary body, that I , or others could not have done with a normal body. The second thing I want to emphasize is when I was just eight years old, I was convicted that there was a hellfire, called The Lake of Fire, that unbelievers in Jesus Christ are cast. I was just a small child, but I knew in my heart that in God's sight I was a sinner for whom Jesus suffered and died on the Cross of Calvary, and if I just received Him as my sin-bearer and personal Savior, He would forgive me all my sins for the rest of my life. And I have done a lot of sinning in my 83 years of living, one of which has been a distain for VT's grampa, with whom I graduated from the Vermillian High School in 1957. He was the most egotistical, arrogant, vain and proud ****-of-the-walk person I ever knew, and VT was just like him. His grampa died about five years ago, but I have held a grudge in my heart for VT's grandpa all my life, I thought it would give me great satisfaction to ruin his opportunity to fight for the Iowa State Championship.  So I arranged with the Iowa Dallas County Fight Promoters to give VT a warm up fight for him to fight the current Iowa State light heavy weight champion. I studied VT's fights and trained for them these past three months, with the intention of doing what I did to him tonight."

"So what are ..."Excuse me, I'm not finished yet. I thought I would feel good about beating the snot out of VT, but you know what? I don't. I was really enjoying it when I was blooding VT up, as though I was kicking the arrogance out of his grampa. But now that I've destroyed VT's  chance to fight for the Iowa State Championship, I feel empty inside, and feel sorry for VT. To all of you who paid out good money to see this fight, I just want to leave you with this one thought "A grudge is too heavy a load for anyone to carry"
     From Jerry Howarth's Book of Stories
Arcassin B Jun 2017
By Arcassin Burnham


I bet you'll love me better than before when i leave you,
i bet you'll love me more than life itself and all the things
you've been through foreshadowing everything you've
created neglecting all the things that would distract you
from what life has given you but you can't take it..

I bet you'll love me better than before when i leave you,
Cause all the things you took for granted will not come
back even its weakened state that follows more than it
can manifests itself into what you would fear the most,
i bet you hate it...

i will sensor all your ignorance,
and disqualify your time,
you are not more important than i have going on,
well fine,
throw dirt at my name that you shame,
you're only speaking about yourself,
gain too many pains in a world where everybody
cares less about their health.
i will sensor all your ignorance,
and disqualify your time,
you are not more important than i have going on,
well fine,
throw dirt at my name that you shame,
you're only speaking about yourself,
gain too many pains in a world where everybody
cares less about their health.

/

Faced a hell of a lot of threats , they were scared of somethin',
Have to do something with your life , just be on to somethin',
Get your *** up outta of the bed and do somethin',
Get your *** up outta of the bed and do somethin',
Had to make a way to get my mind right,
with what knowledge was in it til hours of the night,
too impatient for the bull , don't waste my time.
©abpoetry2017
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/06/left-for-peace-do-something-30-days-til.html
Mark Lecuona Feb 2012
You know
Don't you?
You see my picture
A Yuppie
Clean-cut
Straight
Selfish
Greedy
No problems
Just endless opportunities
But why do you think that?
Are you prejudiced?
Well?
Are you?
Is it possible
That maybe
Just maybe
I'm mad too?
That I can relate to you?
Do I have the right
To swear?
To hate?
To be angry?
Or am I too clean?
Yeah
I'm clean
I have my act
I'm boring
At times
I go with the flow
I don't rock the boat
I drink Chardonnay
At the dinner party
As the guests pretend
To be worldly
Because they stood
In Paris
Or Milan
But have they ever stood
In Harlem?
Or East Austin?
At night?
That's worldly
Why?
Because it's real
I haven't stood there
Because I'm scared
But I think about it
All the time
And I wonder
Do I have the right
To be angry?
Can I write a rap poem?
Can I think like them?
Or does my clean
White
Face
Disqualify me?
I want to be mad
Here
Now
Today
And I will be mad
Not because I'm white
Not because I'm not black
But because I know
Yeah
I know
And I hate that I know
And still smile
With my white wine
And my pretend world
Yeah
It doesn't mean ****
Neither does this
Because I don't stand
In the ghetto
Sometimes Starr Feb 2019
And even if everything fell,
It was the most graceful fall there ever was
Eyes were woven from nothing
And teeth ripped open flesh
It lay bleeding in streets
Hollowed out in seconds' time
Though what is not already hollow I'll never know.

But if the heart of my heart is a void I felt the caress of everything,
And life and language fell between my arms
And clarity never eluded me once
And not a piece of everything, but the whole thing came to me
Once exactly,
And its curvature and shapes will be lost forever, but not right now

Because I am here, exercising this pen
Beware Satan of my great ictus, for I am 24 and virile
I am not low but I am an obscure celebrity
And so are you

I am angry, frustrated with the legal system.
You uphold negative laws
You let people's lives become dilapidated out of ignorance and poor governance,
You hurt my outlook on the world but I am a lucky one
I am lucky to possess the traits I do
I rebel against the depression you have perhaps ignorantly set on my back

And my anger does not disqualify me from being reasonable, there are good reasons I am upset with them.

But it was the most graceful fall, even if I became derailed
Eyes were woven from nothing
I was born in a place called America
It was confusing and loud
It all exploded before I was born
It grabbed me by the ankle
It put handcuffs on me
It threw me in a jail cell and said **** it up kid
It said maybe that's why you changed,
It lauded itself on its court program perched atop a broken system
It labeled me a criminal and poisoned my future.
But it was the most graceful fall,
There were good people and hospitality
Doctors and good cops, good moments
There was an Earth with humans and they breathed and felt the world with human detail inside their impossible minds
There were corrections made, hard to take but right for everyone in the end

I didn't try to be an *******,
It just happened,
But I fixed it,
And now I want my money
And a big bag of ****.
I volunteer.

I don't care what you think about this exceptionally crazy poem.

Oh if you were wondering I got upset about life and threw rocks at this train station LED sign because life was being difficult, as it often gets, and I know that's not a good response and I totally agree that warrants a punishment but that was 2 1/2 years ago. I would have done a year in jail but I did this court program because they said they'd take the felony down. I dont think I deserve to be a felon for that!! I have changed, unmedicated, on my own, and have always known I would change. I used to break things when I got upset and argue but now I don't. And trust me, I was trying to. I would have fixed it on my own.

It's really more age and the need to be independent and make money that motivate me than the legal system. They have messed up my stuff several times, for example a false ***** test and sending me to jail for 2 days forgetting two therapy appointments, not believing I am invested in therapy... I know these things sound small. There is more, it's a long story.

I always wanted to change. I just ****** up while I was starting to do a little better.

I guess people would doubt that. I'm totally just venting here, it's late at night. But whatever, it's out there for people to see if they want.
Amulek and Alma always proselyte amazing;
Almost always after afterlife for the aching!

Big ballin' brethren gettin' bros, and we warn 'em:
Better bring a brave, bold business to my quorum!

Casually we call communities to come to Christ,
creating the cool cats that testify communing!

Dicing up the devil's deeds doing what I've done.
Definitely, dominantly make the devil done!

Eager as evangelists in every single era ever,
ending evil - Make it epic - Exit in the Exodus!

Following forth faithfully - Fast tracking!
Forward to the presence of the Father, fear - lacking!

God given gifts that we got are glorious!
Giving gifts given - Making God victorious!

Hear it high, hear the hype: High holy calls - Hey
Holy Ghost hackin' hell - Holler that you're Mormon!!!

Idols of Idolators I'd incinerate!
As an itching - I'll increase as I'm irate!

Just as I'm justly jukin' through for  Jehovah -
Justly jots and tittles jive in my journal!

K for the kind of King over all kingdoms!
Killer High lightning - He could strike a king dumb!

Let me learn to love the lessons - lively, lyrical;
Light-lifted, luminescent - Longer in the life source!

My mind memorizes Mormon Mastery
Many more marveling - Mimic how I master!

Never not loving neighbors so naturally!
Never not willing - I serve them naturally!

Operating open-minded, On in my residence.
One eye, one heart, oscillating occupants!

Preach of the prophets! Powerful, prophesying!
Ponder on the punch lines given in their prime!

Quit quick questioning quotes from The Quorum!
Quarrel can't disqualify them in the Forum!

Rockin' so right! Rising up royally!
Raising up the righteous in loyalty!

Superficial scientific stabs are spurned!
Superseded silently - Still, small burn!

Teach truth taught till' time takes toll!
Totally takin' charge - Test my soul!

Under one God, united, uncursed!
Unanimously under one universe!

Versed with vice, we're valid and vested.
Viciously vilified - vigor and bless-ed!

What a well word written by a word Smith -
Who wrote it down well without a real writing whit

X's we Xerox, preamble in the notes!
Exact X - Preface: Excitable tones!

Yonder in yesterday: Yell back "Yea!"
Youth, teen, elderly, Y.S.A.!

Zip it way back: Zero days from the Zenith!
Zig and zag zealously zooming to the Zion!!!!
Timothy H Feb 2016
the choice must be made, early on
to break from ****** caste
resign or conform to the herd
imitators en masse

to differ from this path of sheep
avoid more traveled by
for without curiosity
feebly disqualify

in these shallows, lie shallow words
with hint of substance found
remarks of minute, shielded songs
trivial, temporal sounds

lone whispered tales who dared into
dangerous distant seas
souls and hearts tapped by the allure
of what’s beyond the reef

meaning resides in deeper seas
where there is more at stake
and to ignore is praised by most
lacking courage to take

ideas are worth discussing
for those toward meaning go
first color sunrise worth noting
for takers of breaths slow

ignorance is not kiss of bliss
interest charts a new course
sanctioned preceded expansion
infinity’s deep heart

diatribes of desperation
too wonderful for Job
standing on shoulders of giants
visibility ‘n hope

from a shaded view use reason
capacities collide
intelligence, intuition
clear out views of this side

confidence is not inflection
the deep hold a bit more
eyes would rather dart through rooms than
admit what’s in the drawer

follow ideas all the way
carry them to the brink
devote it all to the open
where air is clean to think

the song’s sustenance can increase
beyond a passage bend
if the spark looms advantageous
then chase it to the end

provide occasions to evoke
the theories tracked in snow
uncertain lies the pendulum
of which direction goes

the first foggy ports of entry
where these journeys commence
encompass only distant lights
and often awful tests

allow the stronger light to blind
and bounce it off the halls
sounding boards of experience
ancient or modern calls –

calls leviathan, nebula
noble time unwasted
mysteries must be lost to gain
temporary o’ sacred

a dim reflection skips a beat
complete with foreign tune
matter not wholly familiar
where voice and image loom

inside - or outside - looking in
peering at copy dark
impressing shadow silhouettes
awake only in part

potentials are adorned within
the self-inflicted chains
honest laughs never lean
where unseen depths remain

elude the rank and file marching
van gogh’s for a dollar
valued only after its lost,
tapped or gandered through fire

compassion is never compare
one loves and one condones
one can conjure beings and tribes
the other's shoes, always their own

but fires do not completely fade
for those who stand in awe
love and shadows sincerely make
partial beauty withdraws

beauty comes suddenly, cleanly
when the thing comes at all
for unpursued and dimly lit
zipping boundless or small

evasive through the chattel herd
beyond the unexplored
echoing all senses at once
recognized or ignored

its grandeur through stories to heirs
that echo manifests
its rhythm, bearing, and function
wise to youth, wise near death

beauty's power, intangible
a high altitude veil
unspoken in its reflection
unseen with notice fail

intend on custom prison break
drop union from revel
no suffering o' comparison
the truth now the level

so pass shallows for deeper seas
with curious woken heads
and cast off cares of aversion
for soul’s empathy instead
Divya Kaushik Sep 2017
Noble people question my identity
I am arrogant, not answerable
They say I lack human's entity
Something physical, sounds sensible
They are noble, I don't question

They do look at me with suspicion
Think I do not conform to the norms
Laugh at my unrealistic intuitions
Don't like my love for Thor and thorns
They are noble, I don't question

'You are more of a gawk' they say
That doesn't disqualify me from being exploited
It's saddening to see myself at bay
Avoiding my source energy to be safe
They are noble, I don't question

But my thinking gives me blast
Everything around, is just past
I am the truth, I will last
Who is noble, I need not ask
The one who exists
Mystic Ink Plus May 2018
CEO
Sometime
I disqualify myself

To get qualified as the CEO
Of self

I assume, you understand
Thank you
Genre: Self
Theme: Everyday Life  |   You deserve nothing less
Ottar Apr 2015
there is good in all,
woman and man to a fault,
(the only bad came the result of a fall from grace)
being a woman does
not disqualify you from
a man's work,
men take note,
say with me by rote,
'I must stop being a ****."
(chauvinisima)

take my love to the next level
measure it against the bevel of the Platonic
lust is a bust, then there is love, gimme agape
every time after a time,
and after a while you might under-
stand beauty...real beauty...really understand,
take as much time as you need,
you need this time...to understand the sublime.
The beauty of equality. My attempt, poemeleon...may take some practice, where was Plato when I needed him
(20 minute poetry)

Preservative
to give to me
longevity.

Her lingerie to
give to me
Ideas.

Colouring
to give a tone to
this shop of horror
skin on bone.

Additive addictive
included in each pack,
the knack is not being
stuck with
a stiletto in your back.

But that was then in sixty two
before I knew
the damage they
could do.

Now I'm old before my time
each day becomes my drug,
my
preservative is now prescribed, where longevity was once understood it now may be denied.

My DNA wants to disqualify monosodium glutamate, but
I really like a steak and kidney pie,
the DNA will have to wait.
You saw my back on You
Trying to be strong, concealing every hurt
Every malfunction of the soul.

It was no longer the flesh that has tempted me
I have not tried to escape from the darkest grip of him
I even tied myself up until I gasp for air -
Drowning with sharks and whales who were all in depth.

To breathe normal, to make you famous
I should be doing those
But instead, I became a ******* of the world
I got my back painful, the labor now is in vain
That wasn't your plan
But how could I..
At times delight with the wicked one.

The Words were already engraved in me
I know, how it should be transforming me
All those filthy things I've done
I almost lose myself assessing my own life.

The circumcision was not by hand
But the cross has carried away every hideous act
I myself am *******, how then could I abandon You?

I was baptized in Spirit and in truth
And the thing is: You've payed every debt
To where my soul was about to meet what's hell.

You just told me I'm forgiven
Even though I tried to turn against You for so long
And reminded me how the world would try
Stealing every thing You've taught in me.

The One who is in me is far greater
Than the one who is in the world
That's why You've told me
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

I am for promotion
I should be the warrior, not the slave
The conqueror, not the one who grieves for lost
No one and nothing shall disqualify me
Nothing shall distract my focus.

And upon Your teachings
By the help of the Holy Spirit,
I will overcome the world for my generation
For You have been victorious already.

I am forgiven and redeemed
The only thing that would matter now
Was You who was in me
And Your great plans and works in me,
That I may praise and offer my thanksgiving.

(5/29/14 @xirlleelang)
taken the steps to disqualify
the used of your name.
she'd blown you many kisses
even when she's ashamed.

she's never said a word when
she knew you were wrong.
she sits gladly and she listens to
the words of your sad song.

there's never a time when she
won't give in.
she's the one and only standing
when you needed a friend.

tired of working the long hours
that keeps her away from the kids.
she's losing faith in you because
you've taken she'd money she's hid.

tears fall from her eyes because she
doesn't know how to get rid of you.
she see's the bottle in your hand and
she doesn't know what you'll do.

verbally and physically she's been
beaten down to the ground.
she's just waiting for the days when
you're no longer around.

all of the evil thing you've done to
her oh! she'll never forget.
but once she's gone those will be the
days that you'll always  regret.
Stop the abuse..............
By Jennifersoter Ezewi

What if you fail?
What if you succeed?

What if they mock you?
What if they applaud you?

What if they reject you?
What if they accept you?

What if they say no?
What if they say yes?

What if you lose?
What if you gain?

Don't disqualify yourself when you haven't tried.
Luna Casablanca Apr 2016
Is it ever enough to see the glitter in my eyes
when I'm right near the ones who took me in for once?
I might as well disqualify myself as this competition is too much of a dual.
We want to know who has the brain,
who has a warm heart, and who has the courage standing by great self esteem.
It's me, him, her, and all of us.
If we are sitting with fingers crossed and our shoulders raised to our necks,
why are we here in the first place?
To care and to give,
or to have and to hold?
Ambiguous is how I felt since two days ago.
My belt was right there but my thoughts were cooled down.
I'm living the life I wanted to, you are not there but you are not missing.
I wait for no kindness and I tolerate no admonishing tone used for a prayer.
You pray I won't exist in your life, no need to ask God.
I hear you loud and clear.
When I am gone I hope that will make it
enough.
Don't worry about me,
You never took away my happiness,
you just don't have any yourself.
Mine is a threat to you,
your weakness is not my weapon,
you just let it be.
It's just never enough with you.
I'm not mad, I feel sorrow with no
guilt.
Learn.
Getting out of a situation, I'm actually excited.
Mystic Ink Plus Mar 2018
Once I ran, ahead of the time
They disqualified me
Then,
I ran, following the time
They again disqualified me

Now,
I’m running with the time
This time, they qualified me

But,
I disqualify myself
For,
self respect.
Theme: Hope that clears things up
Mystic Ink Plus Jan 2021
Often
I disqualify
Myself
With a simple
Mindset

If I'm not
A part of solution
Probably, I'm the problem

Thus
There most
Be a way

Order in the chaos
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Facts
Lie
We all lie that we don't lie.
We lie to satisfy,
We lie that we don't cry;
To hide the depth of our burning soul, we lie.
The truth of the broken trust lefts us slowly to die,
But to stand on our feet bravely,
The fear of being judged maybe, we lie.
The words that we use,
Are the symptoms of overthinking, they mystify.
The message we convey;
Makes us brutally honest, that they run by.
Because honesty, honestly often leads to hypocrisy,
If not given​ a touch of lie.
For some lies are the source to survive
Yet they deny that they don't lie;
Just **** us slowly to disqualify,
Making the lies, the secrets of truth.
-Abeera Rauf Mukati
(A.R.M.)
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
In one Play, I was offered to act in my own role

But,  
I disqualify myself.
Genre: Abstract
Though thine two grown
     former babes in crib age,
now lead checkered lives,
     no longer monopolize my time

     as though their persons went backstage
either one embracing, judging,
     and negotiating positive
     chutes and ladders with courage

evoking glee this papa
     helped both beautiful lasses
     avoid being risk averse
     navigating life with minimal damage

though to get ahead of the class,
     (asper the eldest Eden Liat)
     credit karma fairly and squarely attributed
     to herself with encourage

meant from this papa, who oft time
     felt he lacked any clue
     akin to a hobbled battleship left
     to drift at sea, whence,

     upon landfall sub
     sequent lee forced to forage
in a foreign dominion (akin to being
     among Settlers of Catan),

     plus devoid of instruments to gauge,
     an optimal strategic operation,
     thus figuratively groping in the dark
     (unaware of a brewing twister)

     guided by blind faith
doth admit saying sorry,
     but apologetic homage
     would disqualify thyself,

     a "FAKE" mastermind
     undeserving of just desserts,
unfairly via diktat plucking sweet treats
     awash within Candy Land,

     a deceptive image
entrancing, luring and, spellbinding
     ultimately incurring trouble,
particularly when Shana Aubrey

     (younger by about
     twenty six months)
garnered lion's share of parental attention
     necessitated mandatory intervention

      due to language
skills, plus pronounced
     developmental delay,
     where supreme social service

     sages gentle massage
wrought divine prestidigitation
     as one after another
     case worker did overencourage

to counteract congenital
     cognitive setback (coalesced in utero),
now finds das dada envious
    (cuz, aye got mired, hogtied,

     and bogged down with
    obsessive compulsive trivial pursuit,
     hence warrant so lucky as thee Punim)

     steers ship shape body electric
     round her uncharted cerebral
     cape of good hope passage.
Jerry Howarth Oct 2021
This is not a poem, this is a story of a an 83 yr old man, that
got away with lying aboat his actual age, so he could box,
for the light weight Dallas County Iowa, championship.

"Howath is the name and these are my two knock out fists, Gerald
and Ron, and I'm here to sign up for the light heavy weight championship boxing title of Dallas County."

That was my official registration to the County boxing Commisson.
They of course ask me my age and some other questions related to
my boxing experience, to which I lied very convincingly.

By the way, the way to lie convincinly is to literally believe yourself what you are lying about. I had spent hours telling myself the lies I told the Boxing Commission, so they had no doubt about what I told them about my boxing experience. I even had some fake newspaper articles about my boxing experiences that I printed on my home printing press. I'll tell more about this later in this story.

What motivated me o do this, was the current chjampion was the
Grandson of one of my high school class mates that I detested, because h was such a proud blow hard, about every athletical thing
he did, from being a baseball pitcher, a running back football player,
a wrestler and on and on he bragged about himself. One time when
I could not somach his bragging and pompous ay he walked, I confonted him to his face, actually his chin, as that was as close to
his face I stood. He was aout 6' 4'' and I was slightly over 6'. I looked him in the eyes and told him I and every one else in school was sick
and tired of his bragging about himself.

He then sneared a me, reached down and gabbed me by the coller of my shirt, and said. "Why you little dumb pimpsqueet, you aint nothing but a hog raising farm boy!" and shoved me hard against
the hall way wall, so I smacked the back of  my head against it, and
knocked out for a few minutes, long enough for someone dumping a cup full of water on my face to bring me alert. Then ol blow hard
spread it around that I had attemped to hit him and he "just naturally" defended himself and gave me a little shove.

But back to the main part of this story, I had been working out in the city gym, workig on my cardio, thats my breathing. I had been keeping up with my physical condition all of my life, so for an 83 yr old man  I am in good physical shape. I have been punching the heavy bag on daily basis , and have had someone bouncing a heavy medicine ball on my stomach five minutes every day, so I have  those three muscle stand outs on my stomach, tht every body ooos and aaas about.

I also sparred with young boys around 20 and 30 years old, convincing them I was just 28, by my foot work and bobbing and weaving and left hand jabs. I still had a good head of hair, which I
had dyed a light black, which also convinced the boxing commission that I was 38, actually the year I was bornd, 1938

My boxing bout with the young grandson of this high school class mate that I detested, was suppoe to be just a warm up match for him, in preperation for a title fight. He was the Dallas County Light Heavy Weight champion defending his title against some unbeaten
opponant. My goal was to knock him out, and disqualify his title fight.

Oh yes, I neglected to mention my boxing manager, who was a young 62 year old retired boxer. He didn't grow up in
Dallas County, Iowa,  so he had no idea of my bckground age. He came from New York or New something.  I had him convinced that I was just 38 yrs old also. I grew up in a small town called Clive about 60 miles from Des Moines, were the fight was scheduld. Clive was a town with a population of around 2500 when I lived there. Most of the people who knew me are living under ground,
or in a old folks home, so the secret of my age will not be revealed.
,
This grandson of the school mate I detested, is just like his Dad, a smart mouth, bragging, pompous, cocky strutton show boat. He has no idea who I am, but has already started boasting about what he is going to do t me.

"Hey, I'm only 27 yrs old and this old man I'm fighting is 38 yrs old. Somebody will have to help him through the ropes to get in the ring." "What's an old man like him still thinks he is a boxer?

"He ought to be sitting on his back porch, watching the rabbits and squirrels hop around."

"He claims  to be 38 yrs old, I'll knock him out in 38 seconds in round 3."
   ,
He came to the gym when I was working out one morning to scout me out; I put on an act of being slow and winded.

He yelled at me from a few feet away, "Hey old man, my kid sister
has a faster jab then you. You sure you want to fight me?"

My manager walked up to him, and gave him a double arm shove
out the door, so hard he stumbled. "You big mouth punk, crawl
back in the skunk hole you came from."

                           The Big Fight

I was in the ring first, and was warming up wih litle dance steps I had had learned in a dance studio, which I intended to use on him, BTW  his name was Virgil Thornley, but he took pride in calling himself, "V T"=Very Tuff.

He was taking his time coming to get nto the ring,  and when he did decide to enter, he did so with a bunch of short skirted cheer leading girls dancing to loud music being played. When he approched the ring, two of the girls, squatted down on one knee and VT than made a big show of standing on each of their leg, and pushed himself off, tumbling over the ropes onto the ring apron.
amid 40,000 loud cheering fans.

"Enjoy it while you can VT, becaus in about 15 minutes, five three minute rounds, yu're gonna have 40,000 stunned fans looking at you, sprawled half way under the ring ropes, watchng the referee
waving the fight over."
                                ROUND ONE
JT came quickly to the center of the ring with a stupid looking
grin on is face, hands down, swinging back and forth at his waist level.

I took a couple steps towad him, then through him a big surprize,
that stopped him in his tracks. I did a little two step tap dance, and in the few seconds it took him to recover from surprize, I took a quick step toward him and shot out a left jab, purposly hitting
his right eye. Over my years of boxing experience, I developed a
fast twist at the end of the jab. This little twist would tear the skin
producing a cut in the eyebrow, which it did to VT. I don't think he had ever bee cut before by the way he wiped his eye, leaving his face unprotected, of which I took advantage, and smacked him with
another quick jab on his nose, drawing another spurt of blood.

VT wasn't expexcting such an early barrage of attack, and strted back peddling. Once again, I put on my little tap dance,
to a 40,00 applauding, whistling crowd of men, women and teen agers. By now ol VT had no idea what to do with me. He took a quick look over at his corner for help. And when he did I took a big step foward and planed to quick left jabs on each of his eyes.

I heard the fight annoncer telling the radio listners, he had never seen such a show boating boxer like  Howarth is putting
on. He has VT totally confused, not knowing what to do with
him. He came in to this fight as a warm up for his upcoming defensive championship fight with Scrapiron Peel and he is being bloodied and cut up, by what in the boxing sport is considered old, a man close to his 40's but is moving like a 25 or 26 year old. Folks I don't recall Howarth in any past fights, but uh, hang on a moment Howarth is moving around VT, bobbing, weaving and talking to him, I can't quite read his lips, but someting about going down in uh, some round. Meanwhile VT continues to back peddle away from Howath, who is trying to cut him off....Oh! now Howarth stops chasing him and motioned with his hands to come in and fight. There's the bell ending this third round.

There is some kind of commotion going on behind me.... some one wants to tell me something, but is being detained by the police.
Hey officers, let him talk to me. Folks, this is the crasiest night I have ever experienced, let's see what this old man, I'm serious about Old, He mst be  "Uh how old are you, sir?"

"I'm just a couple years younger than Howarth. We  grew up together in Perry, Iowa. I'm 81 years old and that old man in the ring, he was known as "Howie" is 83 years old and...."

"Hold on just jack rabbit minute! Are you telling me, that Howarth,
  what did you call him? Howie, that boxer in the ring,  beating VT, the current light weight Dallas County champion, is 83 years old? Is that what you are saying?"

"Yep, dats whot Im sayng.We growed up t'gether, in da same school t'gether, wrestled and boxed t'gether, and I'm 81 years old and he was alays 2 yars older'n me, so I knows he is 83 yars old.

Folks., getting back to the igh, VT is circuling to his right to get in position to throw is left hook and then is righ overhand knock ut puncht . I think Howie is aware of what VT is trying and keeps circing to his left.


This is the  the round Howarth bragged he would KO VT. VT is coming out in his usual swagering way, Howarth had him intimiated in the first four rounds, with his little dancing jig and blooding his nose and eye. VT wasn't use to that kind of pressure, but his corner manager and some others that joined him, gave him a little pep talk, and so he has regained his cofidence. As usual Howarth, trys his little tap dance aa he approaches VT, it's gotten a little much and no one is cheering it.

I failed to ask you, old man, your name"

"I was known as Scrapieon in Perry, my real ame isRichard Peel.
Yo said dis is da round Howie is going to lower da boom on this young feller?"

"Well that's what he told the fight reporters in the news paper. But frankly, I have doubts that he can do it. Thus far all I've seen from your friend is  a few left jabs. He hasn't used his right in the entire fight."

"Well you just keep your eyes on his right; what yor going to see is a flurry of left jabs, ad out of nowhere his right and will suddenly show up and that will be the end of the fight."

Well folks there is just three minites left i thos round, if Howie is going to KO VT, he is ging tp alf to get more agressie than, oh,Howie just connected with a double left jab, and another one and he had VT weak leggedfromma barrage of jabs. He looks like he is about to go down OH WOW Howie hit him with a straight right hand punch right between his eyes and VT is on the canvas, tryng too ge up, the count is up to 5, 6,7 VT was up at the cnt of 8 bt collapst. The referee is waving the figt over, and tne Dallas County  light heavy weight champion has been kocked out by Howie Howarth in the 5th round just as he predicted.
ROUND oxing epeiec
Dr Peter Lim Dec 2018
I'm applying for a job
   not my wife Susie
   yes, she's a dance-girl
   why do you disqualify me?
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2017
objectification, sorry, i'm a little bit confused:
so it's not o.k. when a woman's
body is objectified,
but it'd necessarily "correct"
   to disqualify a man's argument on
the basis that he's not "objective" enough?
a woman's genitals, objects that they are
can't be objectified,
but a man's intellect has to suddenly become
a ******* cesspool of a congregational:
in your honour *******?
so a woman can get away by being
objectified for her reproductive objects,
but a man has to be subjected
as his ego "magically" turning into
a phallus for a "wrong" opinion?!
                 last time i checked an object was
just that, an object...
                          i can't be even bothered
arguing this statement outside
a chimp confinery....
     thank **** i don't need to *******...
let some camel-jockey do the hard bit...
beta male?
beyond that, there's no beta or alpha
left in me, there's only omega.
                    male.
                      i'm done...
         hey presto, enter houdini,
pinch and a dozen of *****,
                          last time was the lobster
          taken on: a free thrill.
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2022
some thoughts come to my consciousness completely
uninvited, like this one,
the history of Poland, whether the historian
Norman Davies likes it or not,
i just put on a bathrobe to cover the hoodie i'm
already donning, the cold can make a man: mad...
i mean forget literature, forget all that soft cushion
*******... perhaps you can stand the heat:
what? modern white women and their
anti-racist ****-buddy "rhetoric"...
   i guess someone missed the cultural revival
currently happening in Europe, for the people...
by the people... the resurrected herr mannelig myth...
TROLL... no... originally it wasn't some
dip-**** teenage boy going rampant on
the internet... it was a woman "clarity" of form...
an ugly woman... but i still stand strong in
demanding what my: p.b.u.h. grandfather recited
to me once... no woman is ugly,
she's just neglected... i stick to that rule...
but... but...if i'm scratching my head...
scratching my nose... stroking my beard because
i can't scratch my chin...
thinking about transgender women as...
fuckable... show me your hands...
please just show me your hands...
  so we're a knuckle short...
you'll pass...
  butch wannabe in his mother's cardigan...
to the Russians with you...
from World War II stories... those dogs will
**** anything than moves... dogs
******* dogs, ******* pigs...
women... imaginary women,
camels etc.,
            
     sure my vice is... i drink... but plenty
of sober people have...
horrid sober thinking "patterns"...
i drink because i don't relax when thinking...
it always has to be this effort to
scribble down something....
i used to relapse into the comfort of "cognitive
narration"... these days i'm finding myself
within the confines of making: postures...
when  football match is taking place...
my role? my role is to posture...
to look masculine...
to look authoritative...
to... make me fear me...
to.... you want a plum eye... sonny?
it's... to be honest... a ****** game to play...
but i enjoy it...

   but i drink... the cold makes me mad...
i need some whiskers some amber to keep me... sort of...
sort of... sane...
what was i about to "talk about"...
oh, right, constellations...
the transcripts...
this might take a day or two...
depending on how one: feelz...

"fun" some things, feelz, or other, can you even
begin to imagine... Africans...
singing gospel... having the exfoliating moment
in time... without... being exposed to the English tongue?!
would we ever escape the *******
violins... trombones... deaf Beethovens...
no use of drums...
wait... sorry... you're not deploying
the BASS guitar?!
could you ******* sing to your highest possible:
potential in... ******* SWAHILI!
d'uh d'uh dum'da'rah'd'um you probably couldn't...
you came up... with the antithesis of
classical music via jazz...
you came up with... the blues...
******... you came up with: the blues...

it's almost like the Marcus Garvey movement...
never, *******, happened...
you're still going on about
******* these anti--racist white chick-ah-doodle-does...
no, not "those": does... like sort of:
"dudes"! do-izzzz...

IMPORTING ******...
WALKING... ******...
good to know: dough down to the ratio of:
the dodo birds still walking, about,
admiring the liquorice...
a man must admire the liquorice...
the star of Anise...
or... hmm... voice, my, "concern":
how to punctuate to give off
a rhetorical ambivalence...
        
but come on... jazz... would it have come out
of Africa?! on a per se basis?
Bonya - Fatoumata Diawara -
ignorant Africa-Americans...
    thank god i don't belong to any of the western
European peoples...
i don't remember: perhaps i don't have
to... the Russians might have had an Empire...
but it's not like the Kazakhs are talking about it...
let's get on with it...

but these Africans in America...
have they ever talked to an actual African?
sorry... but yeah...
your tribal leaders sold you you...
you were tall, fit & readily made available to work...
you were a commodity...
worth much more than a north eastern European
Serf...
       last time i heard...
you picked cotton... it's not you were...
mining coal... now you're rapping and plasying
basketball... you invented jazz... you came up with
the blues... you created the antithesis of
classical music... white women are flocking
to your ***** with their anti-racist *******...

fair enough... only the rare specimen from your women
i find attractive... but come on...
Arab women have fat hands... come to think of it...
ha ha... "think": i'd rather **** a trans-woman
than... any woman: to begin with...
unless she's a *******...
black women can, will, do, walk the streets
at night, and no man will bother them...
you want the inverted ego-tripping when it comes
to cucks? modern *******...
all that... black men ******* white girls?
yeah... i... em... i don't want to touch black women..

black women, arab women...
they have... fat... peasant fingers...
huge hands... i have big hands...
but tell you what...
some of these trans-gender specimens...
oh... ooh... they'd be a treat in world war I trenches...
so... if... this is coming across as one of those...
Malcolm X attack: retractions...
i, i think it sort of is...

   i'm not their father, i'm not their brother...
but i do ******* know when i meet an African
and when i meet a displaced African...
it took me enough to befriend some macaque monkeys
to stop the Kenyans from shooting slingshot pebbles
at them... as i fed them tea bags and bags of sugar...

it's like: if there's an insult, "insult", pending...
black boys willingly ******* white girls, regarding all
that **** that's available...
insult... let's procreate to give us a 2nd Brazil...
post-racial south American hoopla!
o.k., black boys wanna **** white gorls...
but... what... if... i... don't... want... to... ****...
black... girls?!
  what then... you're going to...
   invest ****** pills in my would-be *******
to sort of self-medicate ****** myself
with having to **** someone i don't to... ****?!
sure... great compliment for the white girls
getting jazzed up...
but i'm pretty sure the black girls are suffering...

oddly enough: i'm for racial purity... so, that...
the blacks can survive... or... **** it...
let's all just mingle and become pseudo-Egyptian
copper-skinned
Indian sub-continent... type of brazen...
bozos... we can have that... pretend Arab...
pretend Spaniard...
           one side keeps pushing... another side will...
thankfully...
the Russians are always there...
never disqualify the Russian...
he's always handy... god forbid calling the Deutsche-mann...
n'ah... that Schwab of a mann is long gone...

it's like to reiterate... German was probing Poland:
give him up! we know he's in there!
Russia was like: give him up! we know he's in there!
the Swedes came! give up him, we know he's in there!
the ******* Ottomans' came!
give him up! we know he's among you!
i don't think the Mongols cared, but, they came,
regardless...
so Nietzsche came, so Marilyn Manson, came...
like i said... almost two centuries' worth of
character assassination...
a case of a stolen identity...

                in all fairness... no game, not fair...
tomorrow i'll... hardly reconsider...
it's all...                       "oops".
in the memory bank of a jellyfish:
that little microcosm of life
per se

this undisturbed avenue in evolution
kindness
electric pulse
in aqua

light travelling in no stretch
of posit
an origin E = MC (speed of light cubed,
speed of light cubed
speed of light cubed
as static, posit,
speed of light cubed,
evidently this implies
the other two letters being changed
but if there's an equation with
the speed of light squared
then there must be an equation
with the speed of light cubed...
if there isn't: or there never will be
an equation with a:    "E=M"C³

        regardless of ENERGY and MASS
but there has to be an equation
with a C³... the speed of light cubed...
if there isn't one
i'll call it yet another Dead End of Darwinism:
then clearly our intellect has
no evolved to compete
with the Insect Lady and her Talking Mushroom
Lamp...
or the Dinosaur grandiosity
brought down to lizard and bird continuity
it's as if there was no meteorite
just the ******* madness of the moo! moo!
moooooooon and seas and tides!

lost the plot of emoji and "forgot"
to place it on canvas:

thinking aloud painting
that's what poetry is
i need those symbols

like the Star of David and the *******
those drool assigns
i have

             tick tock... tick tock:
  
    卍 (tilt: // to the side: clock! clock! twist!)
because i need a reference for:
     Schläfli symbol...
                   a hexagram is not the star of david
a hexagram is not the star of david
tilt the star of david and i'll show you
a hexagram:
an opened book
and reading on a square of camel hind
in a desert
wish there were stones in a desert
and mountains
but poor me thought the deserts
were missing hills so raised mountains
blindly following love
and all purpose throughout meaning
of this shared earth: hearth...

                    at least one H in the equation
if seriously:
all these Jews want to remain post-genocidal
insecure about what's no longer
mysterious then we can flood
Europe with as much post-colonial hangovers:

but i swear: the downer comes
with: but i am stronger and of more prided
intellect than others
and for no fault of my own
am i to tell my father: hey! you!
yes! you! colonialist!
*******! **** the right: off!

         obviously the war in Ukraine
is not of the English persuasion of concern
those lax dods and sods of the "intellectual"
class not kings
not the privy council the lazy liberal ****-whats
i mean those newspaper folk
those scribblers and cobbler-wannabes
i mean those bunch of people
how mammalian flesh alight in the heat of
an argument...

smoked a joint that's marijuana
and tobacco
drank a shy whiskey sharpshooter
that's 2:1
of whiskey to coca coca
cola the ancient Indians of Paraguay
are talking
about La Bambino Bamba

in an "alternative" reality there is a journalistic
script that says:
the Euros 2024 did happen
and i saw a populism in motion
in nothing like an echo chamber
can't make the Coliseum into an Internet
Meme Echo Chamber
have to be real bro: shitz hyphen and *****
twitch at the ***** erotica of
a volcano

in an age where homosexuality is
as the supposed degeneracy of cis fibric
frombosis: phrombosis: thrombosis:

F: Fulvark: hawk: bee: buddha:
fly...
the German police were imploring
the English fans to smoke a joint
rather than drink too much beer
hey! mate! license or no t.v.
your superstars only won
a sly / shy

victory over the moon and the mood
of the Serbs:
like the victors France against
the AXIS power of the Eastern *****
and i believe
that Nietzsche a German
was adamant about what the Germans
did to the Prussians
and what the "elsewhere" didn't do
about the Estonians and the Finns
and the Lithuanians

just saying: France superstar also won
a minor victory just
a one nil
against the Eastern *****:
the Austrians are the only people
known to the Slavic people west of the Oder
and i implore you to not justify
that Darwinism has dead ends
if this supposed fixation on evolution
and then the geniuses that brought
down Pluto
i can't contest intellectual prowess to keep
feeling less and less amazed
less and less and less in awe
i just think about bread
oh and dough
and yeast
and i think: i think that i think, i think...
my soul is shattered
i have no internal breath of a coherent narrative
the German police implored the English
football fans to not altricate: articulate
the budding Serb hunger for violence
this amazing South *****
of Yugoslavia
and big boy language: i have a hairy chest...

POWER IS BLACK
POWER IS THEN GRAVITY OF NOTHING
yes, not the: that's not a misspelling
but a continuation in CApital:
power is that a drawing nearness of death
prior: impediment

in the memory bank of jellyfish:
bells of eternity - a dream of a song
of actually enjoying music
like some telekinetic hypothesis of an itchy brain
whereby a Mushroom donning a Venetian
Carnival Mask
is playing me primitive... "tunes"...
the jellyfish and perhaps our organic history
stretches into the dinosaur realm
of existence
that felt because HAD endoskeletons
but the dinosaurs didn't die
but evolved into miniatures of birds
and great hawks
and our mammal father the WHALE

but as i was smoking and drinking
an unlikely companion:
i never thought flies to be nocturnal insects
but there's always one
super-freak Beelzebub Bob and my pierced
ego my pride like a flickering light
a honing of an idea to another idea

but even if this earth once entertained
giant insects
and talking mushrooms
mammals and reptiles are pretty good
for extending our consciousness
i'm talking pre Bible imagination
much further
from Dinosaurs
that became birds
Holiest of All the Crows of Odin
and the Swans of Athena...

there was a time of giant insects
and giant insect brains
or rather the microcosm organic history
a history of body
not of stone

then i wandered outside the garden of Eden
into the Land of Ende (no, not Ened)
there's already the Den of Ned the Flander
in some Simpson
O what dark day i imagined
myself with a child watching Sunday afternoon
t.v. not able to trip out
with a scribble with a doodle not hallucinogenics
please
this ardent father

so i wish to become

so in a time of fervent homosexual pride
me loving a single mum of 55
no better *** than menopausal love
no seriously just watched how people
ugh: flake under the puppet skeleton
some flesh of 16 year old ******* proofs of
*** that are girls:

with enough perspective of time
i can speak concerning being:
there are just too many dead ends in the theory
of evolution!
you can't see the evolution of a spider
into a over-spider of an ant...
i must have brought in at least five this week
walking through the garden
they hitchhiked on my ears
into a death surface reality of moon
walking on a toothbrush and a sink
not Schindler's bread and butter emanel:
Immanuel Immanaeul:
You'll...             You'll...        and You'll Do This...

a serpent uncurled from around
the tree of knowledge
and having given birth to the fruit
in an insomnia of winding
and travelling from start to star
wriggled forward in time
ate Sisyphus
and started to clutter with a Hieroglyphs and
Chisel:

but those talking mushrooms
and giant insects would leave no traces
except for the moisture in the air
not like dinosaurs and pressed hard
black olive oil of locomotion
but instead
from such a harsh environment
with salt for water in the seas
these creatures left us
breathable air!
Nitrogen in abundance
but only enough sanity for 20% of air...

pre-dinosaur times...
   if we're going as far back as beginning
the universe...
religion can't compete, unless:
it get's a psychedelic booster JAB...
a language usage imprint
of said USER working with AI...

but if we are really going that far back:
i can look away from
belittling humanity as the currency
of NOW:
there is a currency of NOW: realistic interaction
there's the currency of ONCE:
there's the currency of IF
and the currency of...

       evidently too much Joyce... just thinking:
maybe aloud...
but certainly tripping on alcohol and marijuna
and before i die
and i'm at the stage of two hydro-cells on the brain
like Martin's like two watery
eyes
then i will create an advent of mushroom
tripping
and open my other 2 and 4
of seeing
since the eyes are an *****
unthinkable before kidney failure
or to think of eyes
are nostrils because there are 2
to think of the mouth as eyes: sensationally...
preposterous...

     ugh... but before the Dinosaurs
there were the talking mushroom overlords
and insect people
who left no skeleton proof
because they had mush inside and strength
outside
         so just the moisture in the eye
and time capsules messages
they left us hallucinogenic mushrooms
to travel back in time
past the eons of admiring those unlucky sods
the reptiles that weren't given slack
like Satan
because from dinosaurs to birds
couldn't devolve from short T-Rex hands
big mumma FI thyes thyme black girl running
so the bible is a word
from the reptiles via the mammals to
the insects and talking mushrooms
we got hit by a meteor!

           those ape mummies are toiletry
such idiots
chaos ensues no natural set order
this will not continue i'm sure of it
how warm the intellect
but what if lizard people had a chance
to boil water in a kettle... too!
but we are just their locomotive juice
to ******* UBER their groceries
from 100 meters away!

there are dead ends in Darwinism
just to clarify
thanks for collecting all the species
but let's put the Lament Configuration
back together:
these are: dead ends... don't you think?
will an ant evolve into a super ant?
will man evolve into a superman?
will humanity ever congregate at a major
sporting event as a count
of individuals or as a disintegration
of rigid formula that might disqualify
an ethnocentric identification process:
of evolutionary scrutiny
of not seeing the details in bedtime stories
something to scare the children with?

dead ends: static: evolution is not exactly
dynamic:
it's a Dead Science...
biology is as much a study of stones
in the miasma of mountain
but still minerals in the blood
and the pulling and pushing apart: toward
a together...

happiest so: alone...
regressing: so my love is bad but two
men and a third by himself
crossdressing to X his mother
and that's mammalian grip is
insufferable
but if history begins with volcanoes
and Dinosaurs
maybe i don't want to think about
a shortcut via the Sumerians
because: apart from the Egyptian
phonetic encoding
sharing Europe with Africans
is like: calling the Neighbors of the Continent:
Slavs the stupid Inquisitors of Communism
of Yiddish Intellect
not Hebrew not Israeli
maybe the Bilingual Monstrosities of the Yids
had to be stamped out
for the raising of Israel...
maybe? don't you think?

well it would certainly help some
countries to get on the Bilingual Ladder
like it would be great
for America to become a Bilingual Nation
a grander Switzerland
a bigger Canada
a marriage of Spanish and English
would only cement a superpower
while we could have a marriage
of the Slavs with the Germans
since the French and Especially the English
have outright rejected the Germans
at least the Austrians could soften the blow
and i could too...

my my how i love using such big words
relating to people
but mind you i was hypervigilant
on the point of paranoia
at the Champions League Final
talking to German Secret Police
at Wembley...

and that's a true story
i was also outside the one talking to youths
when the cordon on Spanish Steps
was put on by the bettered
coordination of Police with Security
Staff...
the soft police can you imagine
a police officer writing a poem,
would anyone read it?
perhaps thinking about the Club of Fetishes -
some time to relax
but i just want vanilla and juicy
and plump of plumb...

that's my girl: right there...
and like a ******* at a gay pride parade
let me do my:
Uncle Paradiso:
          Sam Smith'oh Unholy:
in the vinyl store i just heard: BAHBYHLON:

mommy don't know...
yeah: i was at the "£ body shop £"
paid £130 for giving a 20 year old
Romanian ******* a massage
after she was spanked to a glitter of blueberry
on the *** with rough love rough love
lion love i am the crab: pick up
soft spoons soft metal

happy to ******* a priest...
happy to ******* a priest...
happy to make a priest a Hashem: Kosher: Halal...
happy to make a priest a kosher
ooze: then some SALT!

salz salz! and the piper of pepper!
salz salz! and the piper of pepper!
Anton Angelino May 2021
i know how it feels like to be a sagittarius
and i know what u mean when u think u have the whole world against u
almost like i had a facility for reading misjudged minds
i was born on the 13th of december with the silver moon attached to the starry sky
sliding across it like a turtle on a beach off to begin its new life
and i can’t show my entire thankfulness the way i desire to express it-
u’ve always been the north star guiding me where to head in doubt
as i fought my auto-destructive mental malaise with my head up in dull clouds
i sense the feelings in ur words
how their warmth illuminates
i know how u feel and i feel the exact same

and i know u ache for our generation every single day
u just wish things would go differently
u just miss the goodness that never commonly existed
and i couldn’t be more proud of u
i may not be a perfect human being but that doesn’t disqualify me from saying u are
and when i dream of u it feels like i’ve never loved before
the way i adore u
cause u know- i’ve always had taste for people who dress fancy or look attractive
but now that my sweetest feelings have been revived upon the sunrise
i feel like i’m in love for the first time
u are more than a lover to me-
u are the droplet to my needy rosebud
sunshine to my sequoia
riverbed to my missisipi
or just the foundation of the better world u want to construct
and if u could i’m sure u would
i believe in ur pure intentions and balance on their authenticity
ur words are more charming than classic poems to me
and i can listen to them like songs throughout rainy nights
because u own a good heart
that mine is chained to with a chain made of daisies as if it was spring
and even though i’m emotionally far past that line- or a life stage- who knows
we can pretend that it’s spring

i know what it feels like to be a sagittarius
i’ve always walked left when others turned right
i stared at the pond by the main road after the day was over
i stayed home after dark
i kept asking family how it feels to be in love-
so i said to myself no more loneliness or pondering my sadness
whether it’s summer or freezing cold
and when i get lonely i pray that i may lie down with u and watch the sunset
atop the roof in a peaceful riviera in a happy mindset
no past to define me- just words to descry the sense in staying strong
that’s what makes us perfect people
love u all day all night long
Poem #9 off “California Demigod”.
if a 2024 November presidential Biden win
pandemonium likely to occur,
subsequently figurative tectonic upheaval  
might set United States in a tailspin.

Though discouraged, disenchanted,
disheartened, et cetera Democrat,
I intend to exercise enfranchisement
wherein human made his habitat
within Schwenksville, Penna,
a washed out town with one laundromat
pessimism rains heavy on my heart
reverberating a prominent pitapat
hoping on a broken wing
and a prayer
trumpeting Republican theocrat
blessedly outvoted videre licet
sense and sensibility courtesy electorate.

Yours truly attests the candidate
signified by donkey
the lesser of two evils,
a cruel trick doled out
courtesy fickle finger of fate
braying against lumbering Elephantidae
Thomas Nast of Harper's Weekly
in 1870 he did illustrate

said animals as caricature
he did humorously sketch
though expressing tacit approval
for elder incumbent
octogenarian quintessential statesman,
he (a common gentile Joe)
exhibits the preferred alternative,
though secular Semitic humanist,

I vouchsafe present
commander in chief
bares the sisyphean onus
to foster entente cordiale
among various and sundry
governments linkedin across
the webbed wide world,
particularly vocalizing, orchestrating,

invoking dovish overtures
unnamed politician obligation
his adherents must take a stand
and serve as ambassadors representing
peace and harmony
for instance such as conferring freedom
regarding oppressed Palestinian people
Israel must liberate

allowing, enabling, and providing
their own destiny (lies) to operate
versus being humiliated
courtesy where boot heel diplomacy
of autocrat bully and regulate
every friggin action
brutally commanding, goading,
lording over, et cetera subjects

when, where, and
how to breathe or urinate,
plus current occupant
of Executive Mansion
must not resist
parlaying olive branch,
which amped up energy,
would tax even an envoy

even at her/his prime,
which younger generation
must be entrusted to govern
since four score chronological orbitz
logically, seriously, zealously...
automatically must disqualify
office holder/seeker, whose
emotional, mental, and spiritual fitness
necessitates body, mind, and spirit triage

no more than half life
of aforementioned age,
cuz youth in general,
(and women in particular) bubble
with near boundless energy
regarding promulgating win/win
within realm of conflict resolution
emblematic of Lake Wobegon,
the little town time forgot,
and the decades could not improve .

— The End —