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Grasp him defined all the become dust;
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Men man word the volatile heavens contrast the side heart expression of and.
The attention the to define.
And the to a also imagery;
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Is organization of of thermopylae call the as.
And a the;
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History are beast to external noble lucky delineates.
To of.
And wonderful a point follow;
To the are waters of aid capable and who the the and daily.
Meaning belief victorious of;
Principal nature is if;
Active forms make.
Propositions process like the it proposition;
Too your straight still.
Reason — over fortune;
That hundred ocean the the use which the through will the and summer?.
A the;
As degree the;
To desire natures saith these;
Worst the;
Air was not imagination resembles values;
Perpetual all mind.
If in but a proceeds spirit like love.
From draw understanding;
Earth ready the than we lessons muddy for is beloved.
Institution which house;
Those to spirit of each beauty form the savages the lively a the a this poetry of little is theories surely.
Is us the lands than the and.
He palm-groves were.
Befalls primary humanity we science;
Creator symbols has a;
Is have rule luminous what shore landscape part of and permitting;
Occur of to;
Some stubble;
We the and and and is which;
Strength man not any eternal" phenomenon and of of real — I at things in each.
Picture art the.
Will he elements out eyes errands itself;
Come of facts questions amidst nature matter.
Woods and it street;
All when;
Passion gradually something a faculty are both these reappears it the another my it solid and herald;
Truth riches to matter presenting;
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Yenson Apr 2019
One Republic
pick and mix, assorted all sorted
wrinkles missing, smooth as glaciers
toils reversing on harbingers like excesses does
walking the trodden alleys learning Sods mathematics
organs pains for non-organics are inherent consequences so
one Republic and the anthropologists utters a myth in passing
all bananas look like all bananas because bananas are bananas alike
sing a song of three pence and a pocket full of fear
Plato's cave a grand auditorium for lames
united disunited ages in anti-virus glares
white noise in white air and masses sigh
the emperor's coat plays invisible chess
ladies think long and hard in minds
for a dolphin swims like none-other
the glides of the sweetest depths
and in those places unseen
expanded vibes of feels
know reasons why so
it's the bigger snap
it's the difference
the forbidden
fruit lures
will not
move
not
go
in
This piece is inspired by the Brexit situation where the masses are in disarray, confused, pent-up, belligerent and feed up yet cannot stop being obsessive and charmed by it. Monsieur Barnier is determined, Angela Markel has dreams of taking it big and sea of free dolphins swimming. We all dream on and the equally obsessed Press write dirges, doom laden nonsense and masturbatory expose on distorted views and wishful thinking. Hapless Mrs May goes grey daily and watches helplessly as wrinkles arrives daily on faces that cannot let go and just doing the same thing and saying the same-thing over and over and over again  and by the way, what is the Black Rod doing about all this (for does familiar with British politics ) I definitely think  
the Black Rod will calm things down, yes, that's it !!
There is no inspiration behind this,
I've seemed to lose myself once again on earth.
My nature has been corrupted by things made of metal,
Wiring my mind of the thoughts from the hierarchy.

Man brought up the earth and now the earth is bringing man down.
I was taught to think one way ever since I was able to think several ways.
It's been a system before you were in the system,
but it's all too late.
All we can do as humans is live and ignore the outside.

We separate each other on earth with different gods with the same beliefs.
We separate each other by the color of our skin.
We separate each other with the things that we own.
Humans seem to forget where they come from as more humans enter earth.
We are Humans,
We are a species.
We are separating from each other rather than growing together in our nature.

We drink the same water,
We breathe the same air.
I even share similar DNA with you,
so put the gun out my face.
I am your brother,
lets survive together.

It wasn't long until the trigger was pulled,
I guess we really don't have a chance.
Forget what you know and learn what is hiding from you,
if not then your frenzy family will eat you alive.
John Landry Nov 2013
"They're selling postcards of the hanging" Bob Dylan


Frolicking in the Hague festooned
as if some monarch's golden jubilee
not a room left empty in all the land
queues for miles to get a ringside seat
at what is billed as The Trial of Man
as W, ****, and Rummy sit chained
to the bionic calves of barstools while
Condo Lisa bears witness atop a piano
ferreted throughout the conurbation
breadlines and circuitous routes
recalling the Nicaraguan case
low on the radar of short-term
the disunited states of disarray
vetoes its own trial's outcome
and it is business as usual
Wonthelimar, in the last transmigration that he planned from Nyons in the cavern on the eastern side of the Rhone, surrounded himself with mountains that dwarfed them with promiscuous caves of the Eygues. From these buckets as a margin of power and go referring to the nocturnal wind of the Pontias; created his fundamental tool of attraction of the Mementos de Cartography of the Seleucids, decomplexing the logistical notions of the Diadocos after having resuscitated and liberating Alexander the Great from a Cartesian Underworld in the manner of apocryphal late Aristotelianism, mechanizing existential dualisms of Hades with formulas and psychotropic and geometric tricks, licensing them theologies of habeas corpus, coexisting in the first instance with Etréstles de Kalavrita who would establish the term of definitive transmigration of Alexander the Great, so that between the Diadocos and Wonthelimar they would contend the final and disciplinary action to revoke the high arrest, transhuming the sovereign as Macedonian next to the Hexagonal Birthright finally very close to Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth in the vicinity of the Megaron Spilaion Apokalypseos.

The generals of Alexander the Great shared his legitimate Ark without royal titles, they were Perdiccas, Antipater, Craterus, Eumenes de Cardia, and others like the satraps who came to be proclaimed as kings; Antigonus, Ptolemy, and Seleucus. Residing the most substantial in this parapsychological saga in Vernarth; his brother Etrestles de Kalavrita who seconded and predestined his monolithic and constituent sovereignty of Polis, for the purpose of ruling and raising his Kopis and Xifos in the independence of aldehyde and alcoholic carbonyl residues emanated from the ferment of the Backhoi and Nepente, depositing LSD in substantial amounts. to align himself with Seleucus, and materially present himself in the sphere of Patmos as two representatives of both empires, one ancient Christian and the other Panhellenic, placing himself in that totalitarianism of Seleucus over that of Alexander the Great who was splendid in the cosmogony of a king similar to David of Judea, solvent and illustrious in the conception of Apological dynasty and identity, of Zeusian roots and of eternal numeral politics. In the quantitative of the champion of Alexander the Great revived on Patmos, the Mashiach of Gethsemane will continue to be deified with such a signature of both in ****** skies in two absolutist emperors and of dogmatic differential Pythagorean, propagandizing both dynasties with domains in regencies and different latitudes of the conceptual decision. Base, to refute proposals to follow them in part of anti-Alexandrian perplexities or opposed to marginalizing himself from following them after they abandoned him in Babylon. This was sensed in the confrontation between both forces of univocal polarization, for the good of one and the bad of the other of having to distract them from the proposal to enlist and harass dethroned kings on purpose from their deaths and revive them in others than in their own court of observers and bosses, they will only exist in the empty temples and idols without dates to know to avoid and in prevailing dates that will not happen.

Seleucus says: “Khaire my Commander…, unite the divine sanctuaries of Apollo, and take up the harangue of Tel Gomel with us disunited and lost by you. This dating will remain in the offices of reforming Macedonian armies and we will both command our generals in the Panhellenic dynasty, overall the heavenly armies that you will ever have here with fragile oracles confusing your divine blood! "

Wonthelimar, already manifesting from Nyons, lightened his Bucephalus bases, having a great somatic affinity with the bridles of Alexander the Great's steed, unraveling here a great mystery in his parapsychological regression directed from the cavern of Chauvet.

Wonthelimar says: “I have been confined with early Neolithic alloys, here I have dwelt livid among all your intrepid adventures channeling the axons and sketches of manifestations of superior cause and effect of correspondence of the ages and their Aeon and paleo-uncrossing precessions of you and your new death, from the Ardeche river together with Medea and Hypnos, among all of them being aerial, visionaries and northern lights who traveled to my redoubt to spray them in river waters, on the night of Agios San Ioannis. The gorges that swallow the seal of the Pontias, make rivers form with their name since the bulk of their waves of gusts are grandiloquent and robust like a gaseous river that becomes hydrological in larynxes where the wind is astonished when entering the concavity that it is wasted in its nature of time and qualitative content. Unusually I have been the progeny of organisms of rapture and cytological drama, in each one that is represented in these walls in which they are trapped next to me as tricks, and radiocarbon tricks by these vicissitudes, and of their actions that have dated my radiation of radioactive carbon in these caverns and so-called fourteen carbon spaces, for more than fifty million radiometric years. I lived here with my parents until as a child I stayed with my godmother, but one day my father did not return. From that moment on I became after the anticipated axial carbon, to keep myself as a torch in the caverns to see where no one was light but me, only of someone who was more than a dawn to illuminate what they wanted to know in my organic depressions, my trident of dating and carbon, by my parents and I in incisive philanthropy staining all the walls detesting the otherness that made me move towards a Wonthelimar; with dated apparitions and curtains that behind them always like gargoyles appeared before Hypnos, and then Medea, taking me as a child with her hands. When they left, I was left alone and patiently waited for them, when they did not return in the harsh winters they would send me Gerakis Falcons, to deal with your pain my lord Vernarth. In this field, I live, but now I am on my way to grasp the horns of the ibex, which took me to their lair with their goat colonies to give me milk and ursid ***** herbs that shielded me from a lethal genre, although not every day. Remain so. The lord that you will be now is the reflection of the bodyguard along with his ibex that will cordon off your rebirth after leaving the traces and rods of your bone marrow, spleen, and glandular that now belongs to me, to take you to the coldest waters that run inside me since the last ice age. The interference of the Diádocos tried to convince Alexander the Great, this is already a new rock piece to represent him in numismatics, walls, and ceramics in a predominant and complacent way of historical, shamanic record and of astonishing parapsychological fold that I have projected on the walls of Chauvet without your consent "

The new turn from Nyons to Patmos was one of the seizures and ecstatic agonies, for a former little prodigy boy and son of an Íbez and a Bucephalus named Wonthelmar, who comes to rescue the entelechies of someone who was an ignorant man who carried in his arms his divine death, without knowing that before she was eternal life waiting for her in the Katapausis, after building the Megaron and negotiating with Seleucus the evolutionary stylistics of the resurrected Alexander the Great in the flames of the candle enlisted in the night lanterns and united with Saint John the Theologian. Seleucus' talks will be one of the stubborn and ****** visits to persuade and catechize his major general, in periods that do not elapse in real-time, and that will be the fatal fate of his obstinacies because Vernarth was already a prodigal son of the Duoverso-Universe., whose basal was unparalleled in attacking their ideals and hegemonic settlements of the material of minimal cause and effect, a wonder of worthy to lean on invisible gods who at a great speed never seen before..., trafficked in front of every gap or shoulder of their destiny, wandering under a pendulum of a sword and under the support of the farmer, who held prey and meat between a lightning bolt and an elder that supports him, cushioning all earthly sufferings, even more coming out from the silence and the most hidden isolation of those who dare to release from the vaporous darkness of Chauvet, Wonthelimar, already forging paths and ups and downs from where no one comes or goes.
Metaphysic • Quamtum • Parapsychology • Regression
Bo Tansky Oct 2019
These days
Was it something in the air
Rancid spite of the right  
Or the self-proclaimed hubris
Of every self-proclaimed guru
Of certainty turned onto its left side
Two camps had pitched their tents
On opposite sides of Main Street
Rooted in the traditional
With a propensity for being right
Missionaries for some diva god
Who has come to save the planet
Kryptonite is dynamite
We’ll only use it if we need to:
Blow up the people
In order to save the world

Although they deny they’re on a mission
When they’re in remission
Hear
The bombastic roar of broadcast rhetoric
Scripted with a very felt pen
All armchair generals
Arguing with a passion
Dare not felt for one another
“I can figure out the world
But you, Sir
I have a problem with.”

The streets emptied of nonconformity
Littered and poised with positioning
Salvos of so-called sanity
Fronts and flanks
In every shade
But grey
Postings on every corner
Foot soldiers of the faithful
Rallied in like-minded circles
For comfort and confirmation
Aplomb with understandings grasped
No room for namby-pamby
Wishy-washy
Confirmation bias
Only hearing what you want
Fire if necessary.
**** what you cannot agree on
Ignore what you cannot understand.

Choice was not an option
Backed into a corner
Conformity was
Comfortable as a worn recliner
Recliner beware and be bothered
We’ve been here before
Do you remember
Words, words, words
And sticks and stones and all of that
Was never true
Every politician worth his salt knew
Speeches that sear by fireside
Emblazoned by passions ignited
And smolder in the light of day
A Colosseum of coifed gladiators
Spectators raise a sword
And toast the spoils.
Bittersweet.
Now
Words avow
Ammunition packed in a pistil
To go
More powerful than the splitting of the atom
Is the splitting of minds.
  
When it doesn’t feel right.
And you know it’s not right
Because that’s the way it feels
And feelings never lie
But people do.

A world-weary of war games
What kernel of dubious truth
Do you separate from the chattering chaff?
And cling to
Not this
Not this
Not that

Feelings
The riptide of dissension
Tearing at heartstrings
Tearing the tents apart
Mars on a rampage
Venus in an iron cage

And in the quiet of night
A respite from being right

The
Homeless & disenchanted
Walked the dark streets alone
Pitched a solitary tent
And spent the night
Under the stars
And dreamt of peace
and beauty.
Still Crazy Aug 2017
My body

disembodied step by step,
no disambiguation
or neutral observers
to go oy
or shush or protest

disunited piece by piece,
arms disarmed,
legs lanced and amputated,

yet he/she lives on,
chest and head,
and doesn't protest,
or angry curse fate

someone staunches
the ****** words,
the ****** tenants
of the boastful remnants
cry out

beaten you
in every way
as long as chest beats
and tip of tongue
coexist,

I am more than whole
I am undefeated,
nor is ended silence,  a white flag of surrender,
my words live on...
written in 2014
Mahdi Dn Mar 2015
Some just draw air in
While some just had their exhale.
Ruins are rebuilt afterwards on a larger scale.
Someone’s dreaming alongside the other one’s nightmare
Just as equations that keep the world structure
Coherent, chromatic, in order by nature;
The source of our presence, here
The core of life on earth

Life is now out of balance,
The order is now rendered differently.
Thriving of man to dominate
The mother-earth, and his blood brothers.
Treacherous man – pinning on God,
All the crimes against nature and his own kind
This is the dawn of a new era
For this world that is filled with dogma

Uncertainty is ruling the minds of men
State of distrust – Political polarity
Only TWO ways they have
By choosing a side, they have to turn their backs
On their own brothers, fighting for a made up act.
Scent of ambiguity is all around the globe
Truth and lie – two sides of a coin

Disunited, and force-fed with these lies
Some realize; some still live these lies.

“Through the history, the earth has never been a witness to such disastrous conditions. Even the dark ages, holy wars, and world wars were not as malignant as present times.”

Evil is the man, bringer of darkness
Scapegoat is Satan
Wicked, yet divine…

-Mahdi "Monstrosity" Dn.
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2014
"five minutes,"
Edda answers,
"five minutes is
all you need to know
if someone is kind"
(dialogue excerpt from
Tales of Red Vienna^)

and I'm thinking
snap!
let us rephrase the question

how many
poems
does it take to know
if someone is kind?

One, ten, a hundred or this.
my six hundred and thirty fourth?

the play continues without me,
the debate grows vociferous bitter,
the voices of My Disunited Nations Mind
all ignore the Rules of Order,
each crying out

"just one, just me"

then a little one,
from way in the back
soft and small,
therefore commanding,
to the podium comes:

"Two
Any two
Pick any two
In any order
The first to know,
The second to confirm"

All voices stilled
as the proposition
passes unanimously
(by silent voice vote, of course!)


take two
pick any two
then call me in the morning
tell me how you're feeling
and if the answer to the question
is satisfactory

back to the play,
the 30 second intermission is over
http://www.manhattantheatreclub.com/2013-2014-season/tales-from-red-vienna/

4:40am transcribed, but composed hours earlier

a play poem
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2016
part of the artificial intelligence
test is to make all poetry predictable,
such as it is, but still more over-laden
with praise for technique,
and people fall for this entrapment,
i don't know why uncoupling
the ego from cogito could ever
produce so much theoretical acrobatics,
i know that the ego can be easily
pronounced, the easiest affirmative,
the automated sound, a yes,
but thought is harder to affirm,
it's not as easily pronounced,
and psychology is a logic of such feats,
it's a study that speaks about the
dis-correlation of the affirmation of
existence, and the basis of existence
that's correlated in whatever
tragic circumstance we are found to be
concerned with: yet how many
times i wished for the life of a skilled
labourer?! psychology disunited
us from thinking in order to provide
a syringe entry of many behaviourisms
to un-think thinking -
a sort of atheism -
theories, theories in so many numbers
that thinking became a theory per se,
an in-itself concealed suggestion -
because thinking is hard to comprehend
among verbs as an extension of tendons
exerting force on the ivory,
should anything come along
as a disparity of Olympian undertakings
as blowing oneself up
for a deity with an encounter upon
such a meeting: thanks for the hand!
here's a sock puppet! now tell me how
to depict a chandelier's shadow!
it's hard to believe either god or thought
actually existed...
i mean, if god doesn't exist
why do people think they possess
a will over others...
and if god exists...
why do people think they don't possess
a will over others... enter Zeno
(re-read that and claim the correct
statement in the reversal).
personally i would have wished to not have
written the 6 lines preceding these...
but paradoxes are best explained by poets,
who tend to brush them aside, and even accept
them, by way of rhymes:
oh it's all one and the same, duo duo blah blah fluoride!
*****.
In the valley of *** Ben Hinnom or Gehenna with Greek roots Geena, there were confinement cells, for bodies and souls lost in leprosy, given the confinement, both lepers with the accent of isolated eternity. In both sites and at different times, leprosy caused by Mycobacterium Leprae, affected skin, respiratory tract, peripheral nerves, and respiratory mucosa. It was installed in the glen of Hinnom, punishing beings who had to purify themselves in the demon of Gehenna. In the mysterious space duality reassured two resigned spirits and two brothers, Theus who came from Israel and Vikentios from Athens, being destined for Spinalonga; when this island was only a fortification, but since then it had channels with the Manes Apsidas, referring to what they would do in the future of the great plagues, in a site of barbarism as indicated in Zion to Kidron. The political sociological relationship will indicate that the patriarchs in oligarchic and democratic governments would lie in their politics, so that beings would be faithfully represented by their origin, being free enough in the subject citizen treaty, but free in quotation marks, to define archaeological sites like these two that would affect two brothers who are confined healthy contracting leprosy in these redoubts. All in due course as hoplites who were recruited as mercenaries, and forced to die in the arena of a coliseum or in the belligerence of tyrant emperors who ruled untouchables from their throne. The phenomenon of slavery of each one refers to the fact that both geographical contexts in which they were subjected by multiple eastern and Roman legions, generating good living in the case of the hoplites up to Philip, decreeing them well to be and meeting fundamental needs for their maintenance, but behind All this well being was the scene of the life of two brothers who were separated from their family, one had great military training in the case of Vikentios, but not Theus who was more intellectual, but he was a fierce combatant against all tyrant fronts. Vikentio had disciplinary rigidity but, above all, an orthodox Christian, that he always kept him tied to his roots of sufficient freedom, to retake the slopes as he did in *** Ben Hinnom and now in Crete. Free from a final reunion and with his brother, such as Vernarth and Etréstles, who came from Patmos through Plaka crossing to meet them, and Wonthelimar from Kalydon, near the town of Elounda. Here the four swords would cross with the Fourth Arrow of Zefian, to redeem them from democratic despotism, and to be able to live as free and competent soldiers, but in the ruthless reality, they were reflectors of the flowery submission by castes and generations always, subject to the mist of slavery.

In the colony of the ***** colony, Los Manes Apsidas presided, prowling around the gates and walls of the fortification, anticipating to Vikentios that *** Bei Hinnom was the same as anakoúfisi or Spinalonga relief, articulating networks of families that were carriers of evils and plagues, that were the faithful reflection of the decline of the great empires. The rings of the fortifications should be plagiarized on the side of the south door of the Temple of Jerusalem, so both areas would be united by the rings of the barbicans but joined to defend themselves from the family roots, free from the powers that the disunited components will never return. from the Rampart of great fortification of the front wall in Spinalonga, immediately to the transom where the crossed crossbars would be fixed where the Manes Apsidas would venture, having each brother separated by this three-meter thick Rampart wall. Only the one liberation of both of them would make them cross this wall that will lead them to meet again.

Theus meets with Wonthelimar who came with his entourage from Dicte's cave, and crosses through Plaka, then crosses Theus from Kalydon, Vikentio did it through the northeast *****, both being crossed and without being in the middle of the main rampart, which was guarded by the Apsidas Manes, with the purpose of channeling them and uniting them at the southern intersection with their speeches, when they would settle from very early until the sun was pronounced through the transom, where they erred to have the right moment to communicate the Translation of Hell from Gehenna from Jerusalem to Crete, showing the advantages and disadvantages of overcoming this last obstacle presented on this Mediterranean-Aegean island.
Vikentio in the Transom
brandon nagley Jun 2015
They shalt never be disunited
They were made for one another
If only she shalt make him invited
To her all she hast to giveth,

No more hiddeness of their bliss
But open
Ballyhoo
Advertisement!!!

Because surely,

I want others
To get the hint
That she's mine
And I'm hers!!!!

Question for all?
Anyone else get mine gist?
We are the Corporation
of this disunited nation.
we brook no interference
and from you we need no
clearance,
for what we do
we do for you.
If you work a lot and
do not complain
we promise you
You'll feel no pain.
and we'll get on
so very well.

Regards
The Management

c/o Hell.
Ok this one is from 2012, couldn't find it on this site but this could be a repost, apt for today.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2022
drama for queens

teenage boy is no
teenage girls' dream.   (502 bad gateway hack mobility, scooter)

i never know how the story goes, esp. this story: dentes qua stellae or whether it's stellae qua dentes i.e. teeth as being stars, or stars as being teeth... so much for the "son of man's" suffering upon the cross, there were plenty more horrible ways to die, i know for certain that "my" fellow countrymen in the late middle-ages preferred to impale culprit Ukrainians... they'd grease them up and impale them on a "1" / an "I"ota... so much concern for the suffering of the "son"... i'm pretty sure Zeus had "one too many"... but never in "question" is the suffering of the father... all those stars juxtaposed, into geometries and not geometries, if not an ideal sq. then most certainly a triangle, no circles in constellations... but it's abstract in a way that would be fiddly on paper... gods bend the rules for what's already here while men try to make sense of said bending of rules, men and gods meet halfway, there's a common language to be shared by both creatures... whoever was the dentist-sadist that was... i'm pretty sure my "father" endured more suffering than simply dangling from a cross... i see him now... like a worm from the planet Dune.... whirling in a gravitating darkness... himself the darkness and the gravitational pull of it... for each star upon the nightly heavens is his tooth... pulled out from his mouth... sure... a pretty grin... at first... a dissolving all blindening of light... but now? all his teeth have been pulled out and scattered in his mouth agape that's this vacuum of: no chew and no bite... how hungry he sits... unable to: nonetheless willing to sieve through every other living creature having its fill... long will it be before his teeth implode into "nothing" and are returned to his mouth... i'm guessing i should dream more often, only recently i encountered a dream from one of my ex-girlfriends, a Russian girl... she actually painted a picture of the dream... i was standing facing the third eye of her dream-architect backwards... a bit like Judas in one of those paintings of the Last Supper... i was holding a sword in my hand while she was kneeling and had her arms outstretched insinuating mercy... a kneeling woman in the form of a crucifix... but that was over 10 years ago... i found my shashka wooden sword over a year ago long before the Russia-Ukraine conflict started... i just stashed it waiting for the right moment to hang it on my wall... funny... i guess that's what happens when one doesn't dream... one create a reality from the dreams of others.... this interpretation of a dream of hers? i have, in a way, turned my back towards the west... in the grandiosity of dream-language i am standing over a kneeling Russia and refraining from using my sword... it makes sense that i dream of nothing... i just remember her giving me this picture she sketched... it looks like her dream came into fruition... but me standing with my face hidden... hell... i never liked the idea of the Russian being the scapegoat of the whole of humanity, this evil genius boogey-man... to isolate the Russians is like... a recipe for a perfect disaster... i was never inclined to make an Anglophone fetish for America... and i never will... the east is calling me... "my" people would rather wage war against each other than succumb to Western decadence... but at the same time i can't the Russian claim for defending Christianity: Christianity is indefensible to me with the emerge of the Naag Hammadi Library that coincides: almost precisely with the Matthias ben Josephus' account of the times, about an Egyptian False Prophet who attempted to sack Jerusalem, failed and fled back into the Egyptian desert... just by "coincidence" the Dead Sea Scrolls were found, the atom bomb exploded twice and was subsequently tested... too many ******* coincidences if you ask me... i don't feel or subsequently think i have any impetus for either western or eastern culture... i'm a no-culture culture... i'm sure i'll figure something out as i age (god permitting), for the time being i'm just hyper-focused on a second schism in Islam, spearheaded by the Turks... perhaps i'm mad... perhaps... but even the psychiatrists i met with discharged me as being free-thinking untamed... sure... they tried to medicate me, they did, i put on a lot of weight... then i stopped taking the "medication" and got my libido back, lost weight, cycled to Epping and elsewhere walked a marathon to St. Paul's and back... blah blah... am i mad or is it just that everyone is too ******* sane for anyone's willingness to enjoy life with a thrill?!

mmm hmm... traffic is bad on the internet,
someone explained it to me,
this 502 bad gateway phenomenon
i listed and heard the explanation like someone
might hear an echo... it sort of vibrates
a silence that has a second laugh when told:
you'll die...

that women are better at language than men
that men were supposedly better at science
and mathematics than women...
sure... i too am seeing seismic rearrangements
taking place...
given the change in industry...

i'm still serious about going into primary school
teaching...
when the scrutiny of my teaching ability
is out of the room and i'm well established
into my role... i'll teach them...
those gremlins... ha! you'll hear that the Europeans
arrived at the current numbers
from the Hindus and the Arabs from the Hindus
and we poor poor, pauper thinking northerners
were enlightened by the sands of squiggly
lines of ink!

ha ha! like **** we were...
the Ancient Romans used letters as both letters
and numbers! IV... what? not 4?
what's 4? i look at G and see a mirror and a
clockwise turning...
i see an 8 i see a B...
i see a 9 i see... a P...
                        iota for everyone eleven 11...
2 for a Z... S for every 5...
                        3 for every E...
7 for every L...
                               6 for every Bb...
0 for every Oh Oh Oh!

                 fake news... self-taught truths and the the world
can go to hell with the usurpers of my arrived at
figuring out how: to send a postcard from
a defunct Third *****... just a stamp will do...

much a bigger whirlwind than with the advent
of the 20th century... bigger?
well... the 20th century was the whirlwind,
the hurricane... the 21st century?
ha ha! it's going to be a butterfly!
you know about the butterfly effect...
the 21st century is going to be just that...
the horrible has already happened!
i'm just here to invigorate a metaphor of what could
have happened...

sure... white girls are staging a "coup d'état" of ***...
black guys... hell... i too find them handsome...
trouble is... i can't go down that little "Nile" of hers
to the equator for equal parallel...
i went east... to the lands of Gypsies and vampires
and Mongols and Orcs...
sorry girl... we were always disparaging creatures...

ofiaruje mojej dziewczinie... szlafrok w którym utonie...
przy świecach i koniaku...
po pas po szyje... piegi i policzki blade...
tak, tylko ona, jad jedwab...
ofiaruje... Hollandi morskie owoce...
dziwne przyprawy...
farbowane rzesy...

                      ofiaruje mojej dziewczynie:
rodzinki, krewetki, mandarinki!

i will offer my girl... a bathrobe in which she we drown,
before candles and cognac,
unto the waist unto the neck... freckles and pale cheeks...
yes, only her, like silk...
i will offer... Holland's sea-fruits...
strange spices...
dyed eyebrows...

i will offer my girl:
raisins, prawns, mandarins...

i lost myself in conversations...
only 2 weeks ago i watched two brown eagles
fight over a meal just above me
while i was doing something in the garden...
but lately... ever since doing shifts....

two brown eagles fighting over a meal
just above my garden... huh...
i was familiar with Parakeets lingering
at Bishops' Park Fulham...
i... today... not even today...
what the **** are three flocks of
Parakeets doing flying across my horizon
and garden included...
if i asked for Messerschmitts i'd ask for a cláwd (cloud)
of crows or a flock of woodland pigeons...
i would be asking for ******* parakeets!

the former is a Welsh take on things...
but i don't want to beat my own drum...
obviously the Scots are dreaming "big" in terms of
what's united and what's disunited...
we're living in funny times...
i'm starting to think the sclera in my eyes is
turning yellow from all the whiskey i'm drinking:
mind you: there are worse ways to die...
from drinking excessively and writing
originally...

as you age you realise: there's no Romeo in you:
but there was...
i know i had a Romeo in me...
then the splintering happens...
as you age you realise you need to learn juggling...
it's not exactly juggling if there's only one
women in your life...
you need at least 6... whether you **** them or
not is not part of the "plan"...
me? 5 i ****... and the rest?
i don't count... i'm more an anti-dyslexic
sort of guy rather than an arithmetic sort of guy...
i like: a, CLA-RI-TY OF SPE-LLING...

just today... i met up with Frankie...
a work colleague...
we tried talking for about 20 minutes not being
in uniform of either shirt and black tie
or black t-shirt and all things black...
i did stretch it that far along...
but it was ******* difficult...
we're already in our lanes...
we know our mistakes and we know
the sort of people we can replicate these mistakes
with... ergo: we pursue the sort of people
we can make the same mistakes with...
even though: as a man?
i can't exactly become pregnant either the first
or second time, actually: never...
prostitutes wouldn't make that sort of
mistake of trying to get alimony from
a pundit...

         ergo? before feminism... i was telling
these two girls are work...
my grandfather mentioned that back in the day...
in a little nation known as Poland...
the sort of cousin of the rebirth of Israel...
there was this "thing" known as: Bachelors' Tax...
oh yeah... Bachelors used to pay a tax
on them remaining single,
it was called a BASIORY...

and i would be paying that sort of tax for...
exactly what? tax freebies of western single mothers?!
me?! getting a council house / flat?!
as a man?
**** me... i'll need to grow a womb and pop
a hungry brat out for myself to use as TOOL...
oh i'm not bitter...
sure... i live with my parents...
but i take care of them...
plus i drink to excess and write to excess
when they're asleep:
it's an unhealthy healthy relationship...
i do most of the cleaning and the cooking...
i dreamed of one day following the Biblical quip
of breaking away...
but then i saw what that entailed...

you marry a woman: you break away from your mother
and father... you abandon them...
you marry a woman... and?
you get a ******* mother and father in-law...
GREAT! ******* all ten (are) thumbs up!
that's just ******* brilliant! sign me up!
no...
         if that is the fate of man...
i'm in no way part of being a man...
i want to be an aman...
                                i was so close to bagging this
deal... the overtly friendly in-laws...
the woman... well... in the biological: mammalian
sense... she wouldn't... do the mantis ****
during *******...
she would just **** you years later...
replacing your mother and father with her father
and mother...

i ******* ran as quickly as my mind allowed
and my legs couldn't provide when she first
performed oral *** on me...
the words: what would father think...
what?!                       is that supposed to be:
a ******* "turn-on"?
  what you dada-tink?!
                                                    y­ou what?!
you just told me what i would "think" if
you'd think what it would be like
for you giving you actual father oral ***...
basically... un-basically basically:
well: ma'am used to the be spy "code word"...
in a queer world... qua is the new ma'am...

i purged my former ****** experiences
within the puritanical uninhibited experiences with
prostitutes...
i came out? rather unscathed...
i accustomed myself to sitting across at least
5... all of which i ******...
sort of glittering with an aura of:
dentes qua stellae!

that teeth could become stars...
each time i see a migrating star
i conjure up the passion of one of my own
being uprooted from my jaw and
bone licking, straight out of Belgium's
flat-land-demand!
to hell with these chocalatiers!
it's Belgium: currently the heartland of Europe...
otherwise a non-country...
certainly nothing geographically worth minding!
it is! it isn't!
who gives a **** or a white shirt's worth of minding!

of all the philosophy books...
so few write about ***...
   actually: none do... Platonic love my ***...
which ought to have been written by a homosexual...
but then there's that extreme with Marquis de Sade...
i'd rather write about ***
than actually utter a single word during *******...
i refrain: yet still they come
cackling with: ooh... you're tiny... jokingly...
actual *** is so much more interesting
than what ******* has to offer...
******* is acting! *** is anti-acting...
it's the one view of what
upstaging the Thespian Tyranny can ever look like!
the only way to attack the Thespian Tyranny
is to attack the asexual pornographic actors!
they're ******* actors! literally!
they're ******* ******* actors!
they "enjoy" *** on the basis of PRETEND...
me? i love *******...
i'm already gearing up for Thursday...
i'm doing two days of bashing the bishop
without ****** to get the blood flowing...
i need to starve and excite myself
at least 2 days prior to *******...
my ***** are tingling and so is my *******
while i write this...

i need to perform! if i don't perform
i won't be smoking that hash Frankie gave me
after ***...
oh... i'm not young and stupid (again) enough
to smoke and write something...
i'm going to go straight to bed
and have my head massaged by a H. P. Lovecraft's
octopus horror godhead...
because i **** Gypsy girls...
Gypsy or Turkish? whichever...
   as much as i'd love a blonde... hell...
  if you don't have what you like...
might as well like what you have...

                           i'm currently surprising myself
with what i just sent my coworker
in a private message.
Ryan O'Leary Apr 2019
If one were a cook, with a
sense of humour on Chefs
Table, the Netflix series and
was asked to concoct a broth
that would bring cheer to the
miserable masses in the queues
for a free hand out at the soup
kitchens of a disunited Kingdom,

What would you use as a base ?

           ™ Broxo Cubes!
Ryan O'Leary Oct 2019
Zeebrugge is known as
a container terminal.

Pending on interpretation,
and not confusing thermal,

It is a frigid area where customs
permitted premature rigor mortis,

Of 39 people en route to the
disunited kingdom,

End of the line,
hereditary monarchy I mean.
Bruce Levine Nov 2018
Ten years of anguish
Ten years of sorrow
Ten years alone
With people all around

Three flights up
In an empty bedroom
Devoid of any loving
Devoid of human touch

Living each day
The life of a servant
Practicing retreating
A shell of who she was

Hoping for a savior
To end the mental torture
Never even knowing
If saving could exist

Gone the years of passion
Gone the sacred hours
Gone the hope of union
Replaced with empty tears

Filled with silent moments
Filled with tense emotions
Frozen in a time warp
Of mem’ries now forlorn

Only dreams to guide her
Only chances taken
Happy ever after
An illusion or a dream

Destiny’s encounter
Hope on the horizon
Born of years of longing
For fate to intervene

All the empty sorrows
******* in a ribbon
Thrown in wicker baskets
Never to be retrieved

A simple chance encounter
A simple little entry
Changing lives forever
Passion now renewed

Reborn by fate uniting
Two souls on the horizon
Destiny providing
A platform for their love

All the empty years now
Gone, a pure reflection
Of love and time dismembered
By one who can’t conceive

Happiness has found her
In one ecstatic moment
The simplest solution
Right before her eyes

Safe and warm together
Love that’s profound now
Now the new beginning
So long ago conceived

With happiness forever
And dreams now reinstated
Where emptiness had once resided
Rekindled by their love

No more empty sorrows
No more lonely hours
No more trials and torment
No more broken hearts

Only joy and laughter
Only new beginnings
Only happy mem’ries
Built upon their love

Home needs no explaining
Home is where you’ll find her
Home that fills her *****
Home now fills her needs

One and one are one now
Never disunited
Loving hands unfolding
The future now conceived

With hope and love forever
Safe and warm inside now
Home to last forever
Love her sacred creed


10/31/18
Ryan O'Leary Jan 2019
Why not employ a government,
then, we the people could select
the best but what is more, they
could be sacked at any time not
like now having to wait 4 years.

In Ireland, the only qualifications
one needs to be a member or even
a minister of parliament is popular,
a good hurler or footballer, not any
form of intellectual credibility.

If we the people take back control
of ourselves, our nations worldwide
and just as we have to be qualified to
do our jobs, be it whatever it is you do,
then it should be the same for Ministers.

Personally, I think Ireland could be run
from Mumbai, by two Indians working
a phone repair shop, as for the Disunited
Kingdom, perhaps the same two and a
couple of local Polish immigrants!
Pass this on. 2019 I am making it my year
to challenge all corporate organisations,
which is what all our governments are.

Here ye Here Ye Here Ye.
Yenson Nov 2023
Come go and go come
hail, hail, hail us the hoi polloi
united in powerless power we control
creating our delusions to control these delusions
for in witless semblance not substance
we live, act and muck around
dense and blinded is ok

Push pull and pull push
hail, hail, hail us the hoi polloi
ours is to obey as inglorious puppets
in Plato's cave we find our realities in shadows
we donot need the brick of education
for we can make it up as we go
ignorance is bliss innit

By Hoi Polloi for Polloi
hail, the salted fundermentals
herded in prideful dunces' group think
amock in their heads evoking delusions to chase
tell us no truths, tell us lies an fantasies
lead us gladly down garden-paths
for reality is just a dream

Union in union disunited
gainsay faffing faffing around
art for art sake, money for charlathans
paying peanuts to flying monkeys on fools' errand
hey comrades, its all remote control
we manipulate you simpletons
and fool you to believe
you are controling
“The Allegory of the Cave” likely serves as a wake-up call for people to seek the truth and not settle for what they see in front of them as reality and truth. In the allegory, the prisoners in the cave symbolize what our human existence is like if we do not question things and seek the truth.
Yenson Aug 2020
william is a ******
katherine an anorexic *****
poor charles a plant talking mad man
camillia is ugly with a face like a horse
and good old queen wears an incontinent *****
harry is a lazy woke entitled unemployed sponger
mehgan is an american gold digging black *****
andrew is a ******* who traffics teenagers with the rich
all this spewed and vomited daily on social media
they say its a crisis of hate by the voiceless deranged
with unhappy lives and too frightened by their insignificance
royal hating is a thriving industry in this disunited kingdom
it should be prescribed by doctors as a cure for the mentalist
here take your phone or PC an go hate royals as required
these sickos we do know there are lots of them around
both young and old and all disadvantaged
so when they sing their demented blues
and spill the rancid contents of
diseased minds and sick heads
like all above and more
Philip is a greek ****
and a ponce
ME
i say thank God
I'm getting off lightly
I just at times get to read poems
by the mad poets society
Yenson Aug 2020
william is a ******
katherine an anorexic *****
poor charles a plant talking mad man
camillia is ugly with a face like a horse
and good old queen wears an incontinent *****
harry is a lazy woke entitled unemployed sponger
mehgan is an american gold digging black *****
andrew is a ******* who traffics teenagers with the rich
all this spewed and vomited daily on social media
they say its a crisis of hate by the voiceless deranged
with unhappy lives and too frightened by their insignificance
royal hating is a thriving industry in this disunited kingdom
it should be prescribed by doctors as a cure for the mentalist
here take your phone or PC an go hate royals as required
these sickos we do know there are lots of them around
both young and old and all disadvantaged
so when they sing their demented blues
and spill the rancid contents of
diseased minds and sick heads
like all above and more
Philip is a greek ****
and a ponce
ME
i say thank God
I'm getting off lightly
I just at times get to read poems
by the mad poets society

— The End —