There's an elephant with a fire poker on a magic carpet.  There was something about this typical scene that made me not want to part it.  I jumped aboard, he put his trunk around me, laughed and said, "Hello friend!"  I was bewildered as to would become of this journey, but I already wished it'd never end.  
         I asked the 'phant where we were going, and if there was a fire to poke.  He told me, "Ryno, we're to save a sacred city before it all goes up in smoke.  My name's Vishwah, and the city of Ramthew has been my home since birth for many many years.  Unfortunately this thriving place seems to now be consumed by tears.  LaChunga's an evil man that's recently taken over; a vicious tool with relentless rule.  He's hurting all with no discrimination, and that just isn't cool.  This is why I've been searching for someone to come to our city's aid.  I just fear there's not much time before the hope starts to completely fade."  Inspired I jumped up, he yelled, "Sit down!  You surely don't want to fall!"  I obliged and said, "We'll talk about seat belts later, either way I'll risk it all."
         He sensed that the time was right and swooped down into the town.  After seeing the drained expressions on various faces I couldn't wait to face the clown!  I said that I wanted a weapon to teach him a lesson, 'cuz I'm not much of a choker.  Immediately he said, "This is for you," and presented a different fire poker.  I've never felt more prepared to fight a battle for a city, and serve up some similar medicine to the man that knows no pity.
        I gathered some locals together to share the plan I had.  Vishwah & I were to break into the palace that night, though normally I'd consider that bad.  Thankfully they had an elephant entrance in the back of the structure.  Inside we were confronted by a captivating woman, who said she'd help, but I wasn't sure if I could trust her.  Nearby guards, were alarmed, and the girl ran out of the room.  Rear to rear it was the elephant and I, seemingly left to our doom.  Wildly flailing our fire pokers, against the mob we began to push.  Before we knew it we had beaten our adversaries and put an end to the ambush.  
        What followed was a series of hallways and locked doors with uncertainty on where to go.  Then after catching a glimpse of a fire in the distance it seemed,* now we know.  *Just beyond it was a huge circular room with the ruler at his desk.  He stood up as if he knew we were there and said, "This is your final test."  He spoke of knowing all of our plans and capturing almost all involved.  Despite every word he said we knew our plans had not dissolved.  
        He pulled a lever as we grew closer and the floor in front of us had dropped!  He then let out a hearty laugh thinking we've been stopped.  Vishwah and I looked at each other and nodded as he grabbed me with his trunk.  Vish threw me across the gap in the floor and I flew with a lot of *****.  I looked into LaChunga's eyes and he looked as though he didn't know what to feel.   Gazing back into mine I know he could tell **** just got real.  
        Reaching at his side he grabbed out his sword as I charged at him with much discord and we both felt the surge of vibrations as our metals clashed.  I told him, "Punk you can consider yourself a potatoe, 'cuz you're gonna get mashed!"  I swung and whapped him across the face, which seemed to put him in a daze.  But before falling over he splashed my face with a powder and my world had vanished in a haze.
         I eventually came to, to LaChunga's screaming and the girl's beauty in my face.  He was screaming to be let out for she put him in a chain-like embrace.  The floor was back, Vishwah was there, as I was surrounded by a crowd of stares.  The people were free & overcame the strife.  All of the hope had come back to life.  I said, "For now, LaChunga should live out his days getting pies thrown at him at the peoples' discretion.  He will be faced with nothing left to taste and know the true meaning of oppression."
The people were joyous and excited, but wanted me as their king.  I turned to the girl and said, "If you were my queen it'd make my heart sing!"  She blushed and accepted, but I said I'd only rule if all the people were by my side.  After all the cheers and emotions that were felt I said, "Let's all go on a celebratory magic carpet ride, now with seat belts!"

You.
Cause with every sun rise you blossom like a flower,
And inspire everyone around you to do the same

You.
Cause your kisses taste like laughter and warmth that can even get a wanderer to stay.

You.
Cause like salt in sea
Your thoughts have dissolved into my skin

You.
Cause I don't want any other way to be.

You.
Cause I love yous don't cut it anymore.

You.
Cause somehow you made a way in,
Not unlike the sunlight that peeps in through the curtains,
And stains my sheets and colours my skin.

You.
Cause you managed to did it without me noticing.

You.
Cause somehow your favourite song often dances on my lips.

You.
Cause I may be all these fancy metaphors, but you provide meaning to these words.

You.
Cause you left all these love notes on my finger tips that I translate into words.

You.
Cause who needs the stars anyway when we can set each other on fire with a look.

You.
Cause it's as easy as inhaling the scent the first rain brings.

You.
Cause it's effortless like gravity.


You.
As simple as breathing.
It's you.

INTRO

What happens beyond the realms of  reasoning, where do the lines of  reality blur, How close are the boundaries between light and dark, between dusk and dawn.
  What takes us beyond the thresh hold, the point of  sunlight and shadows, Are  we lying in wait as our limitations are questioned? How many souls have been taken unwillingly to the depths .
         Fall into a place, this chaos which so quickly crept into me, slipping away bringing me back to thoughts of sanity.
  But tainted thoughts stain what innocence is left, making me vulnarble and weak.
  Corruption is tempting you to just give into its wicked ways, influenced by bad habits unable to be dealt with, your surccumed to the sins.
  Such problems now swallow you entirely. There is no cure to this disease, I'm fighting and pondering a hopeless battle, I see no victory for me in the end.
  I will never win, I fear and know this now.

CHAPTER ONE

After the silence entered me,got inside rmy head  ,the lack of sound drowned out all the outside noise . Oh so quiet my world became,except for a suttle  humming,buzzing which echoed in my ears, I could only make it cease with the voices in my mind,my thoughts which I could now hear, and I heard them loud and clear. I heard fear, panic,uncertainty, so many questions I had no answers for.  I told myself its just this happens,maybe its just age,it won't last, this silence won't last,right. Yet another voice told me that something has gone terribly wrong here,and that this is only the begging of my end.  Along came the silence with it then came isolation, one by one everyone I loved let me and has not yet came back. Not even strangers met my path, instead I came across loneliness who now won't leave my side, all alone left to deal with me by myself.

CHAPTER TWO


It didn't take much time until the whispers began at first they only came with dusk,the end of day,when the sun sets taking the light from the world. The sky dims ,lower and lower until all is covered with a blanket of darkness. Shadows creep in slowly cascading across my walls, they remind me that something wicked this way comes,the essence of dread is in the air. An unsettling aura keeps me from sleep, as night falls my eyes grow heavy and my mind is so tattered. Yet slumber eludes me for the fear is much stronger. I lye  awake yet another night. Up until yesterday only an unwelcoming silence suffocated me made my emptiness almost unbearable. Then,well then it was broken, in the 2am hour, a whisper entered my dreamless conscience mind,from no distinct place and yet from every direction both at once

CHAPTER THREE

With such length of time now with deaf ears, I instantly noticed the change of frequencies, though it spoke in a low,low pitch normally it would go unheard or simply mistaken as a gust of wind. But lying there uneasy amounst the darkness of solitude,lacking of sleep and being not of sound mind by this point, I had begun to speak my thoughts aloud, answering my own questions, listening to my own voice somehow gave me comfort when nothing else could. Whispers,quiet whispers echo into the night, for my ears only. I can't clearly understand what they tell me, but the tones of each word gave
off a unsettling undertones that sent chills through me, if only I could understand, but  my  translation of these whispers are inaudible, pinned down by a fear that I'm sinking in slowly,like quicksand,its slowing pulling me under. A catatonic scream paralyzes every part of me, and I can't stop this, this downward spiral into madness. A descent into insanity, I feel myself growing weaker as my mind struggles against  chaos and the discontent , my dreams are dying before my eyes that will not close so I might rest, no no lately the days have brought me only misery,and a question of my faith, it will not give me a moment of ease cause every night has been just the same

CHAPTER FOUR

Why is this happening to me, why won't this just stop, and let me be, this hope fades the longer I live this way, won't somebody come save me, I'm wasting away and I have no control , my will is broken now. How did I not see this coming, something wicked this way comes, it comes for my soul, every peice of me turns black, and it hurts until I'm numb, A sudden suffer rips over me just before dawn, I  understood the  whisperes after all ,go adead just give in, suffocation is near, taken into a sea of self despair, this life you live and breath isn't yours any longer, step by step you will stumble, until you fall, until your empty and hollow.  Where can I go, where will I run, when there's nowhere to hide, nowhere at all. I thought i saw a glimpse of the mourning sun before I fainted from the weight of realizing that I am far from the better days ,tomorrow will lead me further, is this real, or I'm I only dreaming, is this reality or have I imagined all of this, I just don't know these days, time laughs in my face, and I sit silent and still. Watching myself fall,and fall and fall

CHAPTER FIVE

  Down in the dark, an endless night, keeps away the sunshine, cause lately I've been stuck in the shade, wishing for brighter days that are so faintly seen in the distance, I fear none of my wishes will be granted, now many of will be destroyed. I can not change this spiral into extinction, helplessly I watch myself stumbling, crumbling, and slowly coming apart.
  As I live and breath, I see my life wasting away.
Choking on what is yet to come, everyday brings me another dose of misery and a lothing ache that spreads thru me , suffocation is draining me from the inside out, What is pain, I can't scream loud enough to express what has taken ahold of me these days
  All this crept in on me like a cloud, why me I keep asking myself, won't this just go away, won't this just let me be, did I deserve this, well did i , nobody should ever know these wicked ways and all the inflict upon your soul.

CHAPTER 6

Y So with my mind a mess so much so that my consintration strains each thought, I can barely function anymore, and sleep depervation blurs my vision,ive been seeing traces and objects that aren't really there. Plus add the pain, loneliness, and total breakdown of my will, the stress is more then I can handle, I bear a heavy burden, and the weight is crushing me, but what can I do, nothing, I can't run far enough,or hide where I can't be found, please save my soul I whisper aloud, to late the damage is done, this is how I will die, surcombed to a bittersweet end, one day at a time. Now adrift into the void that swallows me up ,and a darkness dissolved another
day

CHAPTER 7

Within a few days I have managed to lose everything, All I am, all I gave and all I  made of this life, Step by step I watched it taken from my grasp, I saw what I worked so hard for be stolen, so easily from me. Peice by price my very exsistance was shattering , All this has torn my world whole apart,  it is being taken out from right underneath my feet.
   Ya I've been experiencing some real trials and tribulations ,they say life isn't easy  but they don't go into depths of how ****** up it can be, or how far down you can fall without any warnings or signs that you didn't realize until it was to late and the damage has been done.  Oh no I've heard some really messed up stories about some of the **** some people have lived thru. But in my personal opinion my life started 2 days ago and it this life of mine since then has been slowly deterating,

CHAPTER 8

ya I'm a sad sort who isn't alive in a sense but instead a slipping mindless  lost soul, that has nothing to look forward to because tomorrow isn't going to be any better and it never will.
    When the sun rises up from the darkness  bringing you Into another morning your wishing harder and harder wouldn't come. That just one night would be your last and you wouldn't take another breath of the morning air. Why oh why can't you just fade out with the darkness,  why oh why can't these misfourtonate events of lately end, I just want everything to just end. And if you Were in my shoes I know for certain you would feel the same way as I do now.


CHAPTER 9

Y … Well I can not express these emotions that have, but they are intensely surging inside me. And I only wish I could share my pain, if only there was someone besides myself to share what I'm going through. It would make it a little easier, well probably not but at least someone else would understand,to feel what I do right now.
So it may seem like I'm droning on and on, Im probably not telling my story so anyone can make sense of it.
  So sorry if I haven't made sense or if I've told this scattered all about.  My thoughts aren't as sharp or clear as they were before this nightmare started, a few short no make that long,long days ago.

Chapter 10

YThis verse keeps repeating in the back of my mind, kinda like a
  song you  hear somewhere but your not sure where, and can't get outta your head ,you find yourself humming it subconsciously ,and this is whats stuck in mine.
  Here I am, Here in this place, Here in this state,Here I am a nowhere Wonderer.
  This is me, This is all of me, This is what I've become, This is who you see now, LA LA LA LA
  I hum this melancholy tune as sappy as it may be,all day long from morning to evening, 24 hours,no 48 hrs. , no 64 hrs. now. I guess I've lost count but it seems that there's been a broken record placed someplace inside my head.

chapter 11

YSo this brings me back to the present hour.  And once again, yet one more day which hasnt let up on any of torment continuing to be inflicted upon my mind, body and soul. I struggled through the sunlight until the moonlight shone down upon me.
  Naturally I find myself lying silent and still, insomnia plagues my weairy self , drained of any motivation. I really couldn't move or accomplish a single thing, I felt frozen inside myself, trapped in a almost vegetable state.
      Dropped in the velvet shroud of darkness, night has placed a veil over the land, and it has me in its embrass but instead of a calming drowsiness as  all others are effected, I instead have an allergic reaction.  For sleep will not come to my tired restless soul, not when fear enters the mind and stirs up the worst of thoughts, how can I relax with such horrible not stations.
      

Chapter 12

T  Here I am starring into the air as the clock marks 3 in the am hour.  I almost thought I might or that I could catch a few zzzzz's, a quick cat nap to recooperate,to regenerate my mind,oh yes my mind in such a desperate need of rest. As well as my body, my sore,aching bones, im throbing all the way to my very core. So when I felt at ease for how ever brief a moment it may last I willed sleep to come, sandman bring me to the land of nod, please oh please.
  But of course as I shouldn't of expected much less, I blinked and my moment was gone, once more I wouldn't dream,wouldn't sleep, wouldn't find slumber or any escape from my new found reality,
In a land far far away, fantasy and make beleive are put on pause cause my presence has been marked absent

Chapter 13

   They started in a low low  tone, the whispers.
Whisper,whisper,whisper, ascending louder with each tick tock of the clocks hands, clockwise,round and round the clocks face marking time, reminding me my life grows shorter with each tick and each tock.
  Ya t-i-m-e isn't on my side, oh no its not, but it makes me feel lm gonna die, and I'll keep running back, yes I'll keep running back.  Ya I can't stop even if I tried. N-o-o-o time isn't on my side, and that's a brutal fact.
Hhiisss, hiss, blahblahblah,yaddayaddayadda, mumbles of the incoherent voices, the voices I guess if that's what you want to call them, these whispers calling out to me, relentlessly tearing me down , thru all the twilight hours
of the night.
   With the morning dawn,  the whispers grow quite once more, disapating with the dark skies.
  Im conflicted by the sight of the sun rising, not sure if I welcome the light of day or curse another day I find myself in it.
  For one daybreak ends the whispers which I'm sssooo thankful for, but yet its another day I have to deal with the misery and pain that seems to intensify with every day that comes and gos and comes back for another round.
  
  

chapter 14


  I got a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror today and I almost didn't recognize the stranger staring back at me me face had changed, my cheeks where sunken in, I didn't notice how much weight I had lost, but I guess I hadn't eaten a thing for days I just had no appetite the thought of food made me nausious, so I went without.
  And my eyes they looked so vacant my pupils where so dialated like eyes gone black, to match the deep darkened circles under them.
Just a glance and you could tell ive been neglecting my health, I looked pretty banged up, a real mess. I didn't dare look to long cause my appearance made me sick to my stomach, in only  3 days going on 4 I seemed to have aged 10 years, and the deeping lines on my face showed it.
Oh what a sorry sight I am, and I'm glad no one will see me this way, even if someone did I had a feeling they wouldn't even care. I let out a depressing sigh I am damaged goods now, this black cloud that hangs over me has made sure to push and shove everything I had, all that I loved. Took my life right out of my hands and crushed it, so that piece by price my life wasn't my own anymore, I had nothing to link me to the life I once knew. Why me, I don't think I'll ever know. But what a tangled web they've wooven for me, and on that note I let out another mournful sigh.
  

Chapter 15

YSo I push and shove well corruption bends my will, no matter what I do I can not make it still. Instead Im inflicted with a disease that there is known cure for, my diagnosis is a fatal one with a slim chance to nil that I'm gonna go into remission and win,having a full recovery, , I can feel it in my bones and I just know I will lose this battle,no matter how tough or how hard I fight against this,this bad bad thing, this destroyer of souls, this devourer of free will, this monster in my nightmares that has crawled out from my dreams to haunt me well I'm awake. I think I'm going crazy, but Im watching myself go insane and I have no control, how maddning this situation has reached, reaching out without reasoning.


Chapter 16

  So here I am still as another day finds the dawn and once more I watch the sun rise, but I can't see the beauty in this anymore.
Now I believe this makes day four without sleep, without rest, without happiness, without any emotion or feeling, except the constant dread and emptiness that has drained me dry.
  I can tell this wickedness has grown a little stronger, its borrowing its way into my soul.
  Alls I can do is helplessly sit back and and wait, to just let this happen to me, and realizing this only makes me weaker. Im becoming such a fragile being, I'm almost afraid to move from this spot, cause my brittle body will most likely shatter to peices.


Chapter 17

Tick tock, tick tock the clock laughs in my face, it screams at me telling me that time has no meaning in my life from this moment on, and as the hands round the clocks face hour after hour, tick tock tick tock, your running out of time , your life is coming to an end sooner then later.
  Amoungst the buzzing silence of the daytime, I hear the clock somewhere in the background, its becoming a nuisance, annoying me just enough to where I can't possibly try to ignore it.
  I sit here silent and still, motionless , paralyzed from fea

Atomized eloquence of the ocean,
heard only by those few  who cared,
i felt, wanted to tell many things, to me
so expected a knock at the door
of my mind. Waited.But it didn't.

                She stood near  me oblivious
                of this in her happiness.
Life is driven by false notions, corrected by experiences
Unsaid words.Scattered things.Do not get astonished.

Waves brought, decomposed sea weeds
and wriggling fish,  sliding against each other
I smelled ***

We were watching waves. 'Savage'
do I have to answer to that?
( sudden exclamation, betwixt silent *******)
The waves tickled our naked feet,
she was happy like a girl
on a date first time ever.Excited beyond limits,
passion of every woman  on being in  water.

'insatiable urge'- a soft voice exclaimed,
(in a room, light gently penetrating in to darkness
I eased my weight against her body)

Shells and bones,
I was thinking, and saw them in my mind,
lying scattered under shifting sands
One  never is fully aware.Though one knows.

Bones
reminder, at last of all that love and hate,
Flesh, completely dissolved, went back to elements.
Sea is like us, men and women
hides so much.Listen and look around, you will see signs!

'You look like a hermit'
she said by way of compliment.
Love is the gleam in her eyes.Evident.
"Is it my shaggy beard?
I am a lecher.Even worse"
i whisper in to her ear,
She took it as a joke,
laughs like the waves,
that go zigzag, for a while.

Yes life, when you look,
after the peeling of wraps,
supposed to be  serious stuff
ends up as joke,
obscene gleam of of white bones,
laughter of white teeth on a naked skull.
Like the avarice of the  never ending waves
signifying nothing in particular.

I was ******* her in my mind,
in water, she  vaguely reminded a water nymph,
stood with hands on both hips
as if she understood my shameful plot,

Her drenched dress stuck to her curves.Lubricious.
Slightly plump, with lithe limbs,
i get a vision of her, squeezing me tight,
in a brutal embrace,
at the precise instant,
the waves of ****** strike.

Waves withdraw,
naked sand bars look like dead whales
under it lies scattered bones.
              O

Two dancers entangled
Found themselves in flight
Magnets across hips
They collided in the night.

He lifted his hand and
She opposed open palm
Their breaths synchronized,
They shot off arm in arm

Their sways became one
Their footwork a mirror
But while chests warmed with passion,
Their minds became clearer.

Their smiles dissolved,
Though it might be perfection...
Alas they let go–
Each despised their reflection.

Your ashes
unburied
dispersed in the sea
dissolved in salt water
mixed with sand
find a quicker way
to nature's recycling.
You are not gone
simply absent from life
and I cannot pull you back.
I can only wait
helpless as you are.

South West


The breed could walk between both worlds of the white and the Native American even in these
Modern times he was a warrior and there were flashes of his shadow that fell against the sandstone
Walls of these cliffs but here among the portals of two worlds was his territory of necessity and practical
In these shadowed canyons once Geronimo Kit Carson and other giants strode there were times in the
Long midnight hours that you could hear their brusque voices in the stirring wind that could scream as
Loud as any mountain lion not creating fear but birthing fearlessness the bleating of sheep will never be
Heard where the unknown darkness lies to face the beast you must lay aside the desire of keeping
Company with human kind a foreign lodger at the edge of the abyss this was the case of this night the
Breed made camp at a breach in the hard rock wall that made a small cave the stillness outward only
Triggered inward stirrings the make shift fire was placed in the same place that others had used for the
Same purpose the blackened stone had a glowing quality an eye for seeing deeply inward and at great
Distance as the breed pierced with searching eyes this hard surface took on a measure of liquidness
Teaming with sights mysterious as the sea there through this quasar of time and space thoughts began
To invade his mind this cave was a fixed point where a searcher and seeker could roll out the meridian
Of time like a scroll on this barren harsh land and the cave only deepened and made a more ready place
It was like the perfect furnishing empty and austere where a herald of timeless tidings should stand to
Announce his proclamations was it not the Raven that was noted as the holder of secrets for the Native
Peoples what better place to begin a narrative than here on this white sepulcher as the fire has indelibly
Given Likeness to the raven as it spreads its wings within the fire it flutters its wings as the fire flickers
The Vision of men on horses rode and wheeled their mounts rode into glories allegory they plunged into
Darkness as wonder played on their proud tall shoulders Grover Cleveland comes out of a blur into focus
This indwelled darkened sky what does it mean it is a nation remembering its birth pains whites blacks
reds yellow and brown into the ceaseless flow bustling wind cut a dance in and out the noise of riot and
Song the smudged finger prints of many have touched the pages of history in these shadowed lofty
Heights Miss Liberty has had her gown made the fabric is peace and liberty she walks these high walls
The over shadowing parapets alone on the precipice but her burning lamp aglow never failing since
It was long ago ignited there the rays of purist gold does glow out upon the sea of freedom he who
Spills blood outside castle walls determines dominions that will plague or bless under the plunders hand
It will show where the heart is benevolent or capricious of cruel knights of courts of blackened souls
Reside in these seats of power as the Vikings with ribbed ships that floated on Icelandic waters that
Sprayed doom on horrific seas true peril hidden within her wetted folds the breed burst from the cave
Seeking comfort in the dark harbor of night many images were burned into his mind on this fertile night
Of a truth the Raven has shared many a secret thoughts they lay on him like the glistening red  
Blood that drenched Black Beards coat one who played with crowns of kings until his own head
He lost for rubies red and emeralds green did many a shipman lie in heaps dead red cannon fire
Floated across the deep like red saffron rare were any that escaped his cutlass his taste for treasure
And the screams of the dying his pleasure the breed faced many strange tales when he set himself
Up as one who would not only read signs of creatures but he would delve into mystical regions of future
And past but not all can be reveled in one nights setting… he did not reenter the cave for an
Indiscriminate period of time he was propelled into his own changing world his entire family would
Be dissolved in this life other dark lessons would he learn but his yearning to know and share would
Call him back to this familiar ground new visions would attest to the change in the country and it was
Not the change one would want a different landscape laid heavy on the entertainment industry the old
Days of heroes in white hats now replaced with multiplicity of characters without moral content just one
Hook or another good looks had to be at the center little children numerous was better grown daughters
With all the right assets it was mirroring where the culture had fallen too don’t give us values just
Distractions make it fast and mindless that was the best formula our society had suffered scenes likened
Unto Apocalypse now for a sweet but short time we all refer to God and possibly see ourselves as we
Once were then with a short fast few days we forget our true greatness let our liberties slip again
At the first cry of political correctness that comes from the multitude of seekers for American justice
And freedom a better way to live then they see the great weakness and opportunity to make America
A hybrid of their former country and instead of objecting we raise the flag of misguided tolerance and
Score another victory for obscene enemies of all mankind then the saddest folly of all watching the rich
Speak and act with such unabashed pride as they whirl through the night and day being followed by
Reality television cameras as the whole world teeters on the brink of destruction that will consume
Everyone and everything I think the one who heads it all up says I will over looks you if I see the blood
Not your stupid material possessions that are fading with the natural world that is to be consumed the
Outer holds many allusions it is the inner being that better have the goods when the world catches fire
In this cave there is clarity of vision of two worlds fathers and mothers who have gone on unprepared
Have only one desire for their families that remain wake up quit being intertwined deeper and deeper
In a web that is made for one purpose to **** and keep your soul unaware of its true danger truth will
Make you free but you have to listen for this to be so the cave now empty but its revelations are here
Being continued blessing or curse lies in the actions you take or don’t take

Venture within my mind,
I challenge you.
A forest so strange, so vast, so wild, so dense.
Bear with you a cruel set of bow and arrows,
And most importantly, a shield of your faith.
Take care of your shield and do not lose it.

My forest is teeming with trees, my memories.
Some are grand and sublime.
Their branches embrace the infinite sky,
While their shadows will brighten and lighten your soul.
Some are inferior and despicable.
Their branches dangle and will ***** you in the eye
Though you will have told them hundreds of times that you do not want to see them ever again.

My forest is abounding of creatures, my thoughts.
The rabbits, deer, and monkeys gleefully dancing around are very much worth minding.
But beware of the birds! They swoop from nowhere, nowhere at all, and pester everything.
Beware of the snakes! They are delightfully shiny and smooth.
But if you play with them, they will poison you and eat you alive.
You will exist in their foul stomach until you are complete dissolved.

The core of my forest
Is a colossal mountain of questions.
It is treacherous. It is cold.
It scrapes the sky and for sure it will scrape you.
Do not climb it,
For at the top, you will find unacceptable and invalid answers.
Most of the time, no answers at all.

Conquer me, please.
Endure the precious distance and the precious pain.
But before you end your adventure,
Pray that my forest will not become a city in the future
(A city is corrupted and cluttered and detached and deranged)
And share with me a part of yourself
Because no one does.

Like a puddle of conciseness I gazed within, I saw something,
not of reality, was this a nightmare in a teacup of reflections?
But as it evaporated I saw that wondering gaze among the
blind effigies that looked into nothingness.

I wondered my view upon the multitudes of shaded white,
what I hadn't seen as my overlook of what was inner most
close to my perceiving. Then I saw it, how did I not envision
this before? Was my gaze swollen with the shallow husks of
those clambering around me. Like an afterimage fleeting.

It was as if it was jumping in shallow puddles, for just a time
not to make waves in a sea of nothingness. For even the slightest
motions collected on the shores of others perceiving.
I was in a chess match, in a board of rookies..
Where those before me once me? I collected myself.

                  "Was I a pawn or another player in a field
                                                  of knights who had fallen,


I was weaving like spider silk, afterimages of where I
had once been. I had become accustom to the intricate
notions of what could and could not be grasped upon.
The blank ones even though of momentary emotions,
when it or they perjured upon them.

Then I noticed, they became more than just chandeliers of  
static light. Emotions were collecting in the corners of what
were vacant sockets of vision. I was no longer alone in this
place of shaded memories. Knowing that they were not of
the purring kitten collections, more of the great white playing
in a kinder garden of seals.

I watched as they consumed each pool, that which was
vacant now fell dissolving into tears of memories fading
beyond there contemplation. But as each painting of
memories was dissolved they were smirking as if they
or it knew I was watching the destruction of their actions.

Knowing what I had seen, I was the knight on a field of
pawns. They were innocence in playground of land mines.
Each step was unconditionally their continuation or the
inevitable disillusion to extinction. My morals were as in
life as in death, never to let harm befall those of needing.

**To Continued in the final part 4

I drank poison
of hate and resentment tonight.

I wonder whether my eyes
will be tumid tomorrow
of all the tears that were shed
and glow with malevolence
or wouldn't event want to lift an eyelid.

I wonder whether my
tongue will spew the vile remaining
or it wouldn't even utter a word.

I wonder whether my muscles will
fulminate with the energy of hate
or it would be too heavy to get off
bed tomorrow.

I wonder if my mind will be raging
tomorrow or would've drowned and
been dissolved by the venom coursing through me.

I wonder as I slip into sleep.

A bird glides gracefully whilst the discolored leaves are aflutter
   In the wind that rocks the cold rotted wood of the window's shutter;
   All while the obstructive trees cause the wind’s speech to stutter.
   Yet she still howls with an intense pressure on me chest; I can barely utter
   My feelings toward this heavy air of eeriness about me—
   Nearly as heavy as the insignificance in the noose of the tree—
   A decomposed mutilation of all that is good, hung for all to see—
   A shriveled neck and half-dissolved eyes that still long to be free—
   The blood long lost, the body now pale—why does it stress?
   Why is life in its eyes, why does it shrug off Death’s caress?
   And as the sun is fully blotted by the black clouds, unfatigued,
   A hot stench like the enhancement of rotten fruit—yet I am intrigued—
   Descends upon me with the force of a vise equipped with knives—
   ‘Tis the horror of what only the spirits of the dead can contrive.
  
   And visions—horrible visions!—overwhelm me and present terrors:—!
   Rain steadily falls and patters incessantly upon an accursed Earth;
   Surrounding the hanging man are graves—and so begins the second birth:—!
   The tombstones crack and crumble into hundreds of jagged stones;
   An earthquake manifests quickly, and violently rattled my bones
   And remorselessly disembowels the Earth of the trees’ roots;
   Suddenly far more prominent is the awful stench of the fruits;
   An unsettling revelation is brought to my undivided attention:
   The tombstones’ collapse and the earthquake are not in relation,
   But the earthquake is a result of monsters unleashing their power.
   And the tombstones—but what of the tombstones’ fall?
   Startled, I see that replacing the hanging man is a voodoo doll,
   Dancing with its tiny limbs and smiling nonstop, locking its black eyes
   On my horrified self; I cringe and tremble in this demonic guise.
   A screeching note erupts from its unmoving mouth; it hovers in the air
   While I am frightfully dehumanized by the doll’s inexorable stare.
   While the screech lingers, the wet soil of the graves shifts quietly,
   The noise of splitting, wet dirt drowned out by the screech of cruelty.
   As it becomes clear the voodoo doll’s dance is one of conjuring,
   ’Tis revealed to me that the tombstones fell because of remembering:
   The dead do not believe they should be remembered, reflected upon...
   The second birth’s process is agonizingly long as I become wan.
   But before I nearly faint—and leave the visions—I receive an unwanted help:
   The doll’s gesticulations are directed toward me; even so, she raises Hell.
   My mind is frightfully clear to see all before me, and the dizziness has left.
   Oh, why these visions? Why with this horrible curse I am blessed?
  
   I am met with the most terrifying sight of all; my heart quickens.
   As the rain falls harder and begins to puddle, my blood thickens
   And very nearly ceases to flow as I watch the dead come to life.
   Gnarled fingers, some broken and some missing, ignore Death’s inflicted strife.
   Fingers—disjointed, protruding in random directions, treelike;
   Grime under the fingernails—fingernails, chipped or long spikes;
   Hardly any flesh on the old, ***** bones; muscles dripping off.
   Bodies, mutilated by natural decomposition, burst with raging coughs
   From the eviscerated Earth, black with age, red with dried blood.
   The dead, limping and holding what organs they still have, slip in the mud,
   Fall, fill their empty ribcages with it, and scream as limbs are torn away;
   Scream, as they are free from the grave, the path that led them astray.
  
   Oh, the feelings of dread that are eroding my scarred mind!
   What awful horrors have I stumbled upon, what did I find?
   One undead woman is staring at me with unfortunately soulless eyes;
   A few long hairs messily fall from her shriveled head, infested with flies,
   And her eyes—oh, her eyes!—are as small as raisins, wrinkly and white;
   They hover in her sockets, the skull only half-covered—pure fright!—
   With dead skin. Why is her toothless skull grinning mischievously?
   Is she enjoying my terror that leaves my trembling grievously?
   Abruptly, the still, deformed grotesquerie releases a sickening gurgle
   And violently shakes, as if under some overwhelming mental struggle.
   Her jaw falls open, unattended from the necessary muscles’ absence,
   And screaming laughter flows out of her agape mouth; malevolence
   Seeps from it in the form of pitchy black smoke and tightens the air.
   And all the while is still her unfailing, gut-wrenching stare!
   Her chest, dilapidated from the Earth's engulfment of her, explodes—
   A black skeletal hand, emerging from the body that was its abode—
   A demon, a black skeleton, blood gushing from its mouth, fire in its eyes—
   And tattered wings spread as the screamer takes to the hellish skies.
   It hovers around the dancing voodoo doll, circling her,
   Worshipping the smiling thing that was sewn with maleficence and fear.
  
   “But what are these things?” I ask as the undead congregate.
   “Is this how horrible life will be beyond Hell’s gates?”
   But it is made revealed to me that the people are eternal
   Inhabitants of Hell—Hell inside me; the spiritual realm is internal.
   “Why do they gather around the doll and bow in submission?”
   But, to my dismay, there is no answer to this deathly war of attrition.
  
   “Vultures!” I hear, a thunderous, wicked voice from up above.
   “You do not know what you are to believe, or what to love!”
   The dead dance in slow, uncoordinated movements, circling
   The doll. Even the shadows ominously flicker, no longer lurking.
   The black demon floats and gestures to the moaning dead,
   Beckoning them to rise from their permanent deathbeds
   To chant and flail their measly arms in worship of the voodoo.
   What have I done to be cast into this dangerous world askew?
   “You are a vulture, searching helplessly for something to feast
   “When the desperate hunger is turning you into the demons’ beast.
   “And when the food is gone, you search for your next dying idol.
   “For you, the inevitable conquest for falsities will never be final.”
  
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
  
   The room of a once peaceful dwelling is a victim of an apocalypse:—
   ‘Tis as if it has mutated into the imagery of a drug’s dangerous trip:—
   The walls are bent in, threatening to collapse under the pressure;
   Books are shredded, shelves are upturned, and obliterated is the dresser;
   Blood drips from numerous cracks in the ceiling and paints the walls.
   ‘Tis many moments of being awestruck before I realize the mirror calls.
   Vision is blurry, a hollow ringing sings, and my surroundings fade.
   My legs of jelly drag my heavy body into the dark hall’s shade.
  
   I yell at the sight in the cracked mirror, but my voice is painfully missing.
   It appears as if my entire face is losing its grip and is slowly slipping.
   Gravity’s grappling hooks have taken a strong hold and are pulling.
   The entirety of my eyes is almost visible from the disturbing lack of coverage.
   My jaw refuses to rise back up, as if the muscles have lost their leverage.
   It adds to the terror—how unsightly I am! How revolting!
   I am no longer human but an otherworldly, disgusting being!
   A scream that is not my own bursts from my agape mouth and shatters the mirror.
   It deafens my ears like a knife; I feel the fiery tearing of my vocal cords.
   “Vulture,” I vaguely hear but clearly curl my dry, thin lips to.
   “Go, find your food, find your idol, bathe in what you think is true.”
   Violently, desperately, crashing into walls with wild, uncontrollable limbs,
   I purposelessly search for the spirit that will welcome my immovable sins.

Your pillowcase
Is still in my closet,
Remember when you
Let me borrow it?
My fever sweat
Soaked through mine
And you were kind
Enough to let
Me use yours
So I could be comfy,
You constantly
Took care of me,
A monthly ordeal,
Ordering meals
Every night,
Every morning
The white hot light
Of mourning
Keeping me
Yawning
In my bed,
I didn't leave
For days,
Where could I go?
So confused and dazed
Watching Dazed and Confused
On infinite play
On the tube
With no attention paid,
Cuz its your favorite movie,
It got me lost
In thoughts of
Going to the premiere
At the cinema
Near
The mall where
You used to rack shirts,
They're both gone now,
Replaced with a Hertz,
Some condos
Of minimal worth,
And a David's bridal
Full of gowns
I'll never see you wear,
Cuz you disappeared
Into a habit,
A rabbit hole
Smeared
With ancient demons
That appeared resolved,
But in fact
Were the reasons
Your love dissolved,
As well as the ambition
To solve
Life's questions,
Your mission
Became
Obsessive
Injections,
Oh, my
Jesse,
I wish I
Still had
Your affection,
But the reaper
Has added
You to his
Collection
Already,
So I guess
I'll hold
Steady,
And maybe
He'll
Take me
Soon,
Cuz I'm
*******
Ready
To sail
To the
Moon.

rusted handle
front-door usage
overusage
what wounds have i felt
as out letters spill
sickly
and splash
with a fragrant resound
struggling to reach
the two-way juxtaposition

pains breezing down my arms
my teeth sting
my mouth tastes of chemicals
books that i wont read
i dont have time
red cardboard
looped
as an old stench,   stems
rivers, oceans, seas
of beds
with no present occupation
relishing in self pity
non-active compounds of a solvent state

ripped tendons
bullets buried in fruit
i dont want to answer
the door
worlds dissolved
endless strings
symphonies of leaves
sweeping under the open door

What path in this warren of life,
made you go from affection
in everything you said,
to disdain in your nostalgic eyes?

The promises we uttered,
expecting to keep them for eternity and after;
now dissolved in the acid of your treachery.

Was it just me who had that intention
of never leaving until the end of time
or, were they merely just a game of your deceit?

The mirage of your trust and insistence
of partly carrying my burdens,
as I did for you,
now reduced to ashes
from which an ember lowly emits in its wake.

The very envisage of us being,
that would hush me too a deep repose
on sleepless nights;
now keeping me up until dawn.

Perhaps,
it was my fault
for expecting so much.

For assuming you were
the one friend I'd needed,
in this deep, hollow concept of living.

I suppose what I'm better off with
is a barren version
of the shallow expectations concerning
human existence.

Often times, I reckon,
what would be of us
if we hadn't strayed apart to divergent voyages.

It is as though,
due to the circumstances uncalled
or our fraying nexus of connection,
we just weren't meant to be.

DISCLAIMER: READ THE WHOLE THING IT IS MUCH MORE GENIUS TOWARDS THE END



Bypass the circumlocutions of elementary rhetoric and the obvious bulges into the ethereal realm of supersolid supercalendar emigrations of the wednongues of vogue emigrating into a new frontier of boundless awakening that blisters the sore solid metaphors of a crumbled bricolage of articulate history becoming a reiterative gabble of entropy that curdles the blood-boiling hatred of those envious of those that capitalize on the true girth rather than the flaccid otiose etymology of differential physics becoming a denatured figment of prideful imagination on a frolic with desuetude in the normalization of the wernaggles of ewnastique that defile the ridicule of even the most astute aspirations of those that despise history rather than reveling in its subtle ironies that swelter in connotation rather than suborn the cadged bridewells of those that are estranged by the Dousk Remix rather than the Voulez-Vouz Danser populism of true urbacity expanded upon a national stage as an anthem not for profligate saturnalia but rather an ode to the odium of the reckless titanism of titanic intellects clashing with the dudgeons of intermittent eye-rolling irreverence double-dealing a stacked deck of pleckigger on an intellectual stagecraft for bandwagon apostasy that leads to solidarity among tentative allegiance. We barnstorm for a grift in the grimace of an alpenglow winter to lead to the salvation of all people united under the banner of neat nexility rather than long-winded elocution reserved only for notched caliber against the nativist diatribe that serves the subservience of the engineer of the white chattel indoctrinated into turnstiles of professed irreverence for demarches of solidarity that is gainsay for gain rather than pittances for pitfall. Rhetoric should be duly curtailed against the overcomplication of hypertrophy and trimmed into the sweet success not of saccharine fads of foofaraw but engineered resistance that galvanizes albatross intellectualism into a revved engine without purpose that mobilizes because of estranged impotence in the revelry of the subtle rather than the cordial tethers of emergent entelechy of the esemplastic orthobiosis that we should all strive for not just as pioneers of the socially engineered harbingers of a remedial society but also for the trendsetters that communicate with the canvass and the celluloid rather than spelunking dormitage of drifted anomaly perceptible to everyone but heralded as prominent by the rigged ambeer of a toxicity of a plumage of city over state and country over planet. We need to provide the verdure of the verdant forest that survives the conflagrations of rage indoctrinated by systematic attempts at stilted ignorance that is engendered more by Leftism than Right-Wing thinkers because in general when observed in organic settings we notice that the Right-Wing escapes the sloganeered jaundice of limited bounds for otherwise boundless thought and provides more seminal pathways that reconcile normative virtues with entrenched inveterate harbingers of economic success. The faulty deadstocks that propel the retinoise of the anomaly among Leftism to disregard the girouettism of a world that is so piebald with dishonesty that it elects a patronage that seethes with passion but aimless in its curiosity for deeper embedded candor because the popular might count themselves among the aristocratic Left but the truly Promethean belong to a centrist tribe that borrows the ingenuity of spurned but never spurious interpretations of a sputtered history that remarks with revelry  rather than disdains with #CancelCulture irreverence that seeks to deracinate all context for insipid utopianism that is a shared prerogative of the delusional Left against their complaints of Sebastomania among right-wing zealots that are equally invalidated by the frogmarch of a dilettante history curbed in storms of a pure tempest rather than a banal reiteration of novelty phrased with participant intonation rather than blathers of whispered arbitrage ennobled by hypocrisy immune to criticism among those that crusade for economic justice without understanding formal flombricks of the true gnomic riddles of alchemy fundamental to global panoramic pleonasms becoming the aleatory vagary of admonished warning that spars against spartanism. Instead of pilfering from the exorbitant defalcation of immunized partisan bromides against the ratcheted warranty upon defective obsolescence we must coalesce around the imperious ****** of divinity bequeathing the living water of a fully-lived life that qualifies its felicity not by junctures but by an overall harmony that conforms to the finicky demands of an overly polarized complexion of dimpled conformity founded on girouettism that earns more traction than the deasil sundial emergence of brimstone rejection for alabaster limelight we must urge others to ditch the conformist utilitarian usucaption of the usufruct of manipulative sports for domineering talents suborned into inclement straits because of unwitting albatross that replicates into a fission of uniformity encapsulated in the half-assed witticisms of attempted belletrist succeeding only in alienating the noxious fumes of alveolate diminutive reduction rather than expansive detritus that scrapes the wreckage of a turmoil to build masterworks out of broken sculptures themselves indemnified from a categorical judgment by the panoramic oversight of proctored civilized ambition. We need to exhort self-education that hinges upon not a listless acquiescence to a second-exit impulsive barnacle to the urchins of brimstone because of an insipid blather of flapdoons of brittle banality because the hackencrude is an outmoded entity to the vast resources of the sizable capital of the growing power of the intelligentsia over the weakened grasp and wrangle of terminus meeting consuetude weakly enough with pleasantry to appease but ultimately a complete witwanton persiflage of sizzled destruction rather than the savory contemplation of the cotqueans of majesty derided but never derailed by terminal revivals because the generativity of the titanic original might not be a popular indoctrination but the liberated thought of the untethered is ultimately more decisive in world affairs than the synergistic hive of bees building an imperious defense against dynasty built only upon provincial hatred of hidebound illiteracy combustible into the brazen bravado of a reckless intrepid effrontery against civilized chains into the ******* of complicit interconnection rather than dissolved dissolutions that solve global problems more fundamentally rather than driving through avenues of wide pressures gilded with expansive growth but ultimately bereaved by the ultimate succor of the youthful exuberance of captive audiences rather than the wily connivance of genius unbounded. God is obviously a benevolent provider of all bounties and despite the conspiracies that predicate heterodoxy the uniform mannequin of a mascot Democracy ultimately becomes a fickle bandwagon allegiance to relationship rather than a true witness to authentic ******* to a subservient relationship to a creative God synergized with energies that should exceed all galloped windlass into demarche and expose rather than rundles of ridicule interminable because of the permanence of kitsch memorial rather than living sculpture that breathes a swiveled light that beckons preened self-accountable responsibility to a dutiful matriotic duty of optimism rather than a contrarian futility of those that despise the unequal suave crackjaw dementia of the temulentia of derangement among crowds that provide fewer bounties and more deprivations calculated to indenture need rather than motivate want. We must motivate want by fueling ambition rather than quelling dissent in defensive posture because that strategy of antinomian discord is a dead-end street against an inveterate enmity that can never be fully deposed but only opposed with nominal futility raging with violence rather than seething with the motivation to reform because reform is an efficacy mobilized. Novelty of wednongue propriety grown through the heirs of drastic impertinence gilded from the siphon of lavadero hypogeiody blasphemous in bletonism that guards a piebald scrivelo because the sought dementia of an overwrought alacrity is a purpose without a terminus but an ambition soaring through scraped ice cream stratosphere that marvels at the minutiae of the civilized anthill that becomes a beehive of industry when the rationale of moral reform becomes insuperable rather than suborned into effete recursive cycles of pittances of pitfalls obsessively pondered but never solved because the fustilugianation of a forever tampered travesty is the esemplastic rejection of a categorical aim that leans of windlasses of elegance that surpass the levy of hatred and achieve sizable filagersion to squirm above the squawk upon populace rather than the consternation of an urbane but cloistered metropolitan arrogance contravened by the historical emergence of happenstance locales fostering the most well-guarded treasures of bohemian pedigree rather than dimpled resolve faffling on ergasia in bromidrosis rather than cavorting with a skeptical indoctrination by default evaded by those that equate an improbable scenario with a definitive solution to acatalepsy quandary because by reckoning with indeterminacy we grow in historical lineaments and solve global detritus by recycling the rattled brevity of promontory preens of plumage into a recursive ostentation defalcating heavily from sturdy macroeconomic proofs of the trendsetter rather than the trend and therefore grapple with profound personalized disdain rather than cordial harmony. Essentially by the logical positivism of proof we remind ourselves that obviously a chattering blather swims in tentative irony as long as it is a penultimate relativity because the lack of capstone ensures that the relevant treads beneath the mountain of rapprochement in benign endeavors to survive and thrive in definitive conclusion rather than intermediary conclusions of amnesia in jaundice. By the gnomic apothegms that guard the fortress of the demassified we have quantulated that the preposition of continuance is in fact a guarantee of the fickle supremacy of the recent and even more preponderantly the supremacy of expectancy of latent junctures that never manifest becoming a dictatorial rule of driven alacrity of wastrels that should fast from conclusive opinion and rather favor the primordial fabric of the inveterate truths rounded by the conversion of alchemy solidified by calculated canon converging with esoteric apartheid against the simultagnosia of the simpleton drivel of primordial myths bowdlerized from history neither lewd nor depraved but moribund because of the conclusive ****** of a peremptory intermediary certainty predicating a more precise foresight. The lackluster luster of numinous foghorn subliminal graft is a nativist confusion of legionnaire mettle swaddled by the cosseted grasp of interminable boundaries that demarcate linear time even when supersolid filigrees of elemental confusion erratically swerve into oblivion that becomes a forestalled happenstance so hapless that the connivance of alveolate synergies necessarily precludes event from becoming indelible because the tentative judgment wallops the tributary incontinence of the warble of axiolative jaundice materialized by crystalline fabrication neutered by soundbyte sclerotic calculus inveterate in summations of conclusion only because of peremptory weights upon geometric certainties rather than logarithmic dampers of attenuation that spar against spartan priggish epithets upon the flamboyant grit of grisly specter of speculative sepulchral venal vanity. The timberlask cineaste irony of the partisan usucaption of sapwood is a pirated timber of startled alarm becoming a useful or useless cacophony of barnstorm for the deadstock of past cadasters of rigmarole in the docimasy of pretense in impartial circumstance in specialized oratory bounded by a hemmed bailiwick of verdure denatured by the flombricks of subtle persuasion that ignores minority fringes of opinion that occupy that majority that cowcatchers brush aside rather with cruel contemptuous unkempt slippery agenda for drivel that spawns ingeminated redoubled explosions in participle bias rather than conglomerate arraignment of arrayed brooked swamps turgid not with the pettier travesty but the charade of a brokered ceremonial calculation against the wrikpond spurious by degeneration into corruptible complicity that thrives in obscurantism but never obscurity when the omnified owns a capitalized swiftboat of never a temulentia but always an optimism in the curvature of lineaments into the self-educated shepherd of the ultimate autarky rather than insubordination in the scrappy schlep of demographic ripples of swift enrichment at great personal flops in the floppy disk of a Democratic enrichment rather than a parched rectiserial hidebound tome. A quirky time stanched by tomes of patricide against family ingratiated by parrots to anthem but lacking the lettered verve of ignoble but parsed parsecs of finite light captivated into prismatic conscience we launch the demerited ploys of foible into the heralded controversy rather than the unheralded mercenary hands behind dogmatic ripostes livid because of the suave prestidigitation of the sublime mastery of the syncopated irony of mismatch attuned to radical rhythm we become bloated slaves to a rich lineage decried widely in attempts of covert coup raxes of a largesse of continual primipara perversions of courted cotqueans of uxorious justice that by defalcating from tributary orthobiosis in specious conjecture esteemed by rattled martexts aspiring for fraternal solidarity with the ****** esteem masquerading as the auctioned flivver that the merchandise of fluminous optimism cannot be an effusive blanch of blarney bolstered by bumptious bromides of brunt blackmail but rather the artform of subterfuge needs the insidious and invidious traction of creepy Thriller subtlety to garner the vapid traction of immobilized discontent foster to malcontent rarely abridged by even the most polite courtesy of diplomacy because of inherently insatiable demand that it skulks in undetected quarters flexing in the shadowy penumbra of transparent crackjaw enigma becoming an obvious blister or a gabble of raw jaundice sweltering into thermolysis by the eventual convergence rather than the improbable divergence of fissile time beckoning its own flashy revolution while denaturing the very presence of delusion as a herald more of the authenticity of animadversion rather than the sclerotic carapace of ragged asphyxiation in the aplomb whisper entombed forever by milquetoast inefficacy in hypersensitivity rather than a flourished malfeasance of a predatory grip upon seizure among catatonic graves of incontinence braving tribulation for crucibles of the most prosodemic surgeries of the furtive froward recalcitrance of deliberation in ignominy that enables that transmogrified skyscraper of Titanic lies to become a sunken vessel of harbored prestige lost on penultimate dice rather than winning pokerish villiany. Essentially the jeer of Morel Under a Disco is a winning brandished authority to chug the capers of inscrutable difference in blandishment imposture to cavort with an elegant plot twist that enthralls abiding decay to revert into a primordial confidence of livelihood to deter the frogmarch of time into the despairing quagmires of a livid balkanization of a simultagnosia of ageotropic monoideism fomented on fervor that leads to the paralysis of privacy and the expedited furor of moribund depraved proclivity so that the offset of morale and rationale can outfit civilization to brave the tempests of cordial divisions cemented by courtesy in order to safeguard against the yeggs of paranoia seeking ultimately the craven caper of disillusioned subconsciously felt retraction of indelible deeds into evaporated constructs that vanish too quickly to spawn the vigor of a cadged and utilitarian expanse of reiterative generativity that sustains the spanned sapience of primordial alacrity to ensure that brevity in outlook becomes longevity in subsistence because without a logical positivism grounded in unshakable tenets of God the demoralization of the vast majority is ensured and entombed in aimless squalor that leads to sheepish temerity compounded by wistful latency in regretful regression rather than a spandex bluster of a bravado of obesity to weather the persnickety wednongues of perdurable badges of instinctual shame slandered into prima facie denatured transmogrified cultures seeking cosmogony out of ordinary bricolage because the eventful triage of the nimble eludes parochial sight while the vastly capable outfox and outpace with such frenetic verve that they fasten against accident and transcend against heterochrony in ridicule that the unseasonable but seminal sauce flavors better the partially indentured optimism of a curated matriotism better than it serves the obviously interminable cycle of listless demiurges of malcontent that fuel conflagration rather than reformation to their own remorseful peril. Thereby, it is obviously concluded that to micromanage a society you must exert the capacity of a selective magnetism obviously predicated on demassified capacities for oaths of gratitude to endear and endure in the humane heart for the majority that sway few but encounter many that they find proper scruple grounded on axiomatic God to sustain not a lifeless priggish inclination but a bounded felicity that is not a carapace of an indigenous and insidious decadence to the extent pursuits of happiness swelter among the marginalized majority bereaved in powerless squalor slave to temptation not to derelict fascination but to provide aim to aimlessness and predicate their worldviews not on Racial Identity Theory which postulates too many counterintuitive pessimisms that are essentially neutered fustilug predicates of a world that requires such drastic seismic reforms in societal dynamics that the earthquake capable of such a realignment would exceed a 10.5 on the Richter scale which is 32x more powerful than the biggest earthquake in recorded history that would be so catastrophic in its implicit implication of the pretense that the consummation of the theory achieves the traction necessary to jostle every crowd into alignment that the collateral damage would endanger the very integrity and vitality of the Republic itself while exerting a tremendous existential dread of radical permutation that enables many travesties that abnegate the prerogatives of a privileged society in search of a facetiously engineered impossible utopia that could only be achieved by a dictatorial authoritarianism working in concert with benumbed sloganeering to engineer pessimism and malcontent rather than nurture the fair-natured optimism of a society that flourishes because it assumes naturally that the universe conspires in the favor of prosperity. If any hint of casuistry is evident in these postulates I wouldn’t be surprised but for rhetorical sanctity it is necessary for a nation bereaved of national icons not to despise the captive imagination of tyrannical transparency but grow from the liberating and partially liberal parable of a life maximized in limber for romantic enthralled growth that heralds with due consideration the paragons of time with reverence rather than soundbyte enslavement of parochial interminable twinges of a newborn and widely shared collective guilt of a decisively antinomian and pessimistic view on the evolution of human societies beyond catchy kitsch verve nexilities of bravado mutilating thirsts for inclusive mandates that are Boa Constrictors prowling with serpentine vitriol to vastly over-represent extreme fringes to dissuade nuclear families in an overt ploy of depopulation because the truer pathway to liberation is one that feeds the hot hand in the casino and bets that the winners will always win by deregulating their ability to bet large sums because of a transcendent supersolid mastery of time that the march and demarche of a boundless prosperity gouged by the fair demands of egalitarianism enables the card counter to achieve such a decisive advantage that his indentured socially coerced eleemosynary inclination to feed the flock endures throughout all epochs because of the necessary and incumbent scruples of God-fearing men to distribute their winnings won by cheating time to conquer time itself.

6 sides
Latent enabler
Counterpoint to truth, amorphic
Dada to life
Callous Birth
Islands dripped in collagen
Mystic, effortless life
Tempests laden iota in tune
Riven
Licked flat, obtuse
Crescent stench
Pagan cells
Hazard the thought
Pick the Atlantic cherry
Reach further than comfort
Pushed & consumed
Spirited paste
Jesuit told in spheres
Lament interest, matted quill
Totem, Saxon tribe
Inflections of hearsay
And Swastikas on parade
Guilt of the blacksmith, undecided
The arms of tablets
Ashtrays & tropospheric light
Another page turned
Capsules filled with perfume
Loose skin lost in relics
Temporal lobe
Cautioned indignant
Pardon the prose
Sonnets dissolved in ethanol
Caricatures of the fleeting
Of our cities last broadcast
Absorbed by times gone
Glittered pestilence
Canceling subordinates, powdered Semtex
Soup of the sewer
Lift the butcher above your head
Nazca lines
Suborbital
Silk screen with *****
Horizontal qualm toward revulsion
Incursion
Calm, cued and cubed
Lab coats coated in pharmaceuticals
Base compound, ionic bond
Covalent CNS
Sympathetic vibration
Default to nature
To theorise movement
Agitate intolerance, turbulence
Beautiful thought
Calculate causality
Passenger of licked lips
Token to latex
Croft in ear, to taste
Unlaced tips, rings of halothane
Bliss
Intrigued with obscurity

The sea has shown me
Many things
Like how to float
How not to sink
To be aware of danger's tales
To live amongst the sharks
The whales
The sea she cures my sores
With salt
Waves that shave my
Every thought
The wind she sends
A scent that melts
Everything I thought I felt
In the sand a name was carved
The waves they came
& Dissolved it off
Nothing left of me and you
I watch the sun pass by the moon
And slide my body through the sand
And swim unseen
Till I see land

Remember back, yes it was a long time ago
When England and its minions lost their one and only,
Lizzy the Busy, she did get about for an older kind of crow

Flying to her outposts and then in her nineties
Still dragging that old codger about, Philip the Greek
Insulting the natives, well he is a kind of royalty

His odd quip on the colour of somebodies skin,
Never mind how are, what a lovely child and how have you been
She married a corker there, no messing

The lands that carried her name all bowing to her superiority
Many of them just peasants not knowing of her really
From Gibraltar through to Hong Kong where they made her royal tea

Man landed on the moon, remembered for a thousand years
If real or made in a Universal studio
The passing of our Queen so real, some still holding back their tears

Reality strikes when you see what she has left of this once great land
Down to her kids to run this Island of such history
And not left it drift to the sea as if built on sinking sand

Monarchy and Royalty march hand in hand from the times of history
Lets not forget the power that we once held
To be banished away by the politically correct to leave us as a sad story

As she would turn in her grave if this once great power dissolved and died
She may not have said it but her wit and allegiance were British through and through
Grow a backbone and be proud again, and show them at least we tried to be true

JJB

Bejewelled in time and space, surrounded by stars
That have sprinkled the sky with questions and reasoning.

Sitting on the moon trying to remember things
And recollect memories that have dissolved into alien dust.

Eyes as wide as the universe and ears as open as the sea
But if we have a conversation, I'm sorry if I don't take it in.

And if the words fly over my head like meteors,
don’t tell me my corrupted spaceship is too lost in your wavelength.

The aqua lines are troubling, burning lasers that zap my
entire kingdom to tiny particles. It’s a supernova of forgetfulness, don’t you remember?

Wandering aimlessly across the core of the earth,
I feel like a drunken chemical gas,
Spinning around on gravity drugs,
Joining hands with life from another dimension.

Floating around, I'm the human form of Pluto.
A planet too small and insignificant to be seen or heard of.