Doge sees trouble
Doge sees strife

Doge is hero
Doge gets knife

Doge helps people
Doge saves lives

Doge is love
Doge is life

doge is are white
doge is are gold
doge is are black
doge is r u and me

doge is love doge is life
egod is back

With each step, the heat of passion of love and excitement only intensifies. I burn with fire from the love of passion, he can fill the whole world. And the sky turned pink. The sky glitters with glitter. The air is filled with the fragrance of love and the world is more beautiful and you are becoming more and more divine in my eyes, I bow to your extraterrestrial beauty and belong to you alone, the goal of all my lives for all eternity. You are the one that I will always dream of and my heart will forever love and want you alone. The goddess appearing to me in ****** thoughts and depraved dreams of passion. Up close you are beautiful to tears - these are tears of sincere happiness and admiration.
You are more beautiful than the most beautiful. Merge together forever and ever with the spirit of yours, and your inner world, my lonely soul dreams. See the depths of your amazing me. To give you your eternal devotion: you are my life, eternity and my destiny, you are my only right choice, you are everything that I love and want. Both my heart and my mind are open only to you. You look so romantic and beautiful, your charm, your spell beckons my mind to you, it is useless for them to resist you, they can only fully obey, surrender to you alone. My legs go only to you, my eyes look only at you, and I focus only on you. Everything in me is overwhelmed with you. And inside, from the love of you, is incredible, absolute lightness. And from the fact that you are not with me, my heart hurts almost to a heart attack. Epochally, I fell in love with you totally, beyond ******-poetic, overly ****. Yes, truly, you are my empress, and only I worship you, look at this temple of my love, dedicated to you, on this great altar, look around, you are everywhere, sit on this throne of love, my great and beautiful goddess. Each your kiss is indescribable and priceless, it is vital. Every your look, fantastically-romantically-touchingly beautiful. He kindles the fire of love and passion in men. Your charm is a powerful force that attracts everything and everyone to itself.
Awakening true, sparkling love for you, of universal scale. This throne of eternal praise and worship is only for you alone, and the chorus, singing about your beauty only for you. In you, every millimeter of your perfect, hot, hot-**** body is beautiful. My world is in your uniquely beautiful eyes, in your feelings and emotions, and I’m not tired of talking about your perfect proportions. Only your caresses give such feelings as love and happiness. Striking, powerful, attractive appearance. The magnificent grace of your body has no equal. Only your divinely beautiful body is worthy of the highest praise and points. I am only waiting for you. You're all I think about. The empress of my subconscious, in my inner world, dreams, and memories, you are everywhere. I always wait only for you. You are my only eternal thought that helps to live in this world, my beautiful emotion, and an amazing feeling. Only, like you, can excite with a look and fall in love with yourself forever. Life without you is unthinkable, impossible. Believe me, I know this for sure, your beauty shines gently with honey, golden light and brilliance. Your beauty is powerful hypnosis.
You are tremendously in love with you totally. You are the highest goddess: beauty, love and erotica. For me, you are the supreme being of all universes. You rule and command over male minds and hearts. Please do not be offended by this truth, but you are so beautiful that you don’t even need cosmetics, only you can look so natural and beautiful, but you are also very powerful ****** attraction, arousal, my only hobby, I’m madly obsessed with you. Your voice sounds sleeker than a violin, more touching than a piano, lighter than a harp, thinner than a triangle. So amazing, your beautiful skin glitters sexually, it is perfect, sweet, juicy. And your perfect figure, perfection itself. You are not replaceable and priceless. You are the most important, most valuable thing in my life. Your infinitely amazing, impressive, external and internal beauty sets you apart from all living and nonliving. So stunningly passionate, your beautiful body is a powerful magnet attracting a huge amount of affection and passion. You are perfect, your beautiful figure is so perfect that you don't even need clothes. I am struck down on a feast, and I bow deeply, taking off my hat to your royal authority, for me it is a great honor and a great honor to be with you by your side, you are my idol and autograph, I take it from me and keep it from my heart, exposing it to the honorary a place in your altar of love, where only you are everywhere, I am your eternal, devoted fan. You have no equal, I adore everything in you. You are the highest, absolute aerobatics. You are a beautiful and perfect image that you can imagine. This is what a beautiful goddess looks like. You are the highest good, pleasure and pleasure in this universe. I put a madman of points and a sign of infinity to boot, your unique beauty. You are so beautiful that you immediately want to marry, and live with you all eternity.
Your teasing sexually exciting figure keeps my mind completely under your control. You are a thermonuclear *** bomb-boom babe. You are all my eyes want to see. Your gently saldko-**** voice is all that my ears want to hear. The smell of your skin is all I want to breathe. I breathe only because you are near me. When you're near the heart of love knocks more. And the level of excitement from your beauty reaches the highest degree. About how beautiful you are and how I love you, that's all I want to tell you. Your gorgeous flesh and soul is all that your flesh and soul wants to feel forever. Your love is all I want to feel forever from you. You're so beautiful, just a sight for sore eyes. You are much higher than blue blood. I am only obsessed with you. You are ****. Cool babe. Unreal beautiful. Drooling flow in men only from you. Resist such as you are simply useless. Your sweet laugh, your **** smile, soft look, impeccable outfit, battles everybody in a row. You are the most juicy relish, sensual, tender, feminine passion. You are my love and soul outlet.
You are absolute, the highest *****. Eternal novelty. It is unbearable, excessively, supremely, beautiful, and only you look overly ****. You are in the highest stage of evolution, you are the most ideal, you are my idol, my ideal, the most true and authentic embodiment of beauty. You are the sexually ****** heat of love and passion. Your body brings you to the highest level of arousal. You yourself tenderness and femininity. You are 1 000 000 000 percent luxury, priceless, the only, eternal value. All the pleasant moments in life are associated only with you. Your sweet caresses and kisses are a very powerful drug. You are the most valuable gift of the universe. You are gorgeous in any kind of image frame, everywhere, always and in everything. You feel a surprisingly soft, sensual, tenderness. The beauty in your eyes is something amazing, uniquely beautiful, it is very beautiful fascinating magic. Very beautiful and indescribably pleasant feeling. Your amazingly beautiful image touches the most delicate and barely visible strings of souls easily and gently. By causing a special vibration of the true love melody, he finally falls in love with you.
So beautiful and bold, spectacular. 1 000 000 000 000 000 000 likes you alone and a sign of infinity to boot. The ******, ****** heat of love and lust emanates from you. You set a new world record for beauty. Which is impossible to achieve. You are a beautiful, socialite. You are synonymous with beauty. The eternal standard and *** symbol in the history of mankind. Absolutely beautiful. Every millimeter of your beautiful body is beautiful in you. The jaw drops and the gift of speech from such incredible beauty is lost. Just do not be offended, please forgive me if something is wrong. But from such a beautiful appearance as you have in men, a powerful ******* of the *****, guys and men end up in their underpants. Unlimitedly beautiful. Sexiest in the whole universe. So **** that you don't even need clothes. You are for the happiest and luckiest man in the world. You are a jackpot. Flash, full house. *** symbol.
You are synonymous with beauty and ideal. You are so beautiful just amazing. you have a direct view of a ****, sultry predator. You are the sweetest. From you comes a powerful, ****, ****** energy. you are indescribably beautiful. You're spectacular, juicy, ****. M, You sound cool, like a mega cool, percussive, lyric rap beat. As a platinum and gold vinyl record, you are a super hit. You are a bestseller of poetry and prose. You're my princess. Queen. The Empress Goddess. The ultimate creation of all universes, spheres and dimensions. I think so. To doge to what extent a girl can be beautiful. Just amazing. The queen of my mind and heart. Your tender image overwhelms my soul with light, beautiful love and lust. You have such a soft pearl skin. Your beautiful appearance forever and ever conquered my heart and my mind. You are the most beautiful of its kind. You are endowed with the rarest beauty at all times. Fashion model. Just the thought of you excites and falls in love. You are a masterpiece of nature and of God himself. Your infinitely amazing beauty, the rarest and most amazing, the most beautiful in the history of mankind.
The most desirable, silk, velvet skin, gorgeous, beautiful, always and everywhere. Strikingly beautiful, your **** body as if calls for kissing and licking, caressing, satisfying you again and again. You're too ****, hot flame of passion. You are the best prize, a gift that can only get a man, the best among all his lives. You are perfect and perfect. The more I look at you, the more I fall in love with you because you beat all the beauty and mind records, my super **** top model, everywhere in the first place in beauty and mind. In you, every millimeter of your body is perfect, with you all seconds are beautiful. The body shines brilliantly: luxurious chic, beautiful. The title itself is a beautiful girl in the world. The supreme creation of all universes. The finest children are born only with you. Aerobatics. Girl high hummingbird.
Your charming charm is a super **** mega power that is simply impossible to overcome. The sweetest gourmet, I adore your gorgeous body, when I see you, only one word sounds in my head: yum, I will completely give myself to you. I will always love only you unconsciously, unconsciously, your gently ****** image sat in the depths of my mind completely. From your amazingly contagious beauty, your mouth opens and you lose your voice. Dizzyingly, stunningly beautiful, you are like a giant tornado, from which everything attracts you. And the heart and soul yearn all the time only for you. It doesn't matter if you love me or not, the main thing is that I still love you, and in my subconscious mind, I will only love you forever. Your luxurious appearance of the highest quality, this is a workshop, the filigree work of Mother Nature, this is just a masterpiece that constitutes a unique example of true beauty, you have no equal, you are a girl of high caliber. You are absolutely beautiful to such a degree, so beautiful, so exotic, ******, and your image sounds poetic like very beautiful music of love that I’m just afraid and shy to come to you, I’m afraid to talk to you, as if standing next to a goddess, or with a super mega star, a world scale model that even aliens probably know. My heart beats more often, I can’t speak normally, from excitement, goosebumps all over my body, and it just shakes.
All these are symptoms of true love for you, well, just: oh), wow). To be your boyfriend and husband is the greatest honor in the world, he knelt in front of you with flowers in his hands. Your appearance is perfect just like Barbie. You are so beautiful that only you want to have *** forever, countless, infinite number of times. You are unattainable, you are like a star whose light of the soul, like a searchlight, illuminates me in the deep darkness of solitude. In love with you thorough. You are simply amazingly beautiful. You are the best of the best. Goddess of all goddesses, empress of all empresses, queen of all queens. More beautiful you just can not imagine a girl. Sexier than you just can not be anything. Beautiful soul just is not found. There was nothing more perfect than you and never will be, simply because I think so. Laponka, I am your faithful fan, you are my only idol, idol, icon of beauty. It doesn't matter who you are, I will accept you any. Because in any case I am eager to be only with you. You have a **** smile, and your sensual look is just awesome. And from your voice and look a pleasant shiver all over your body. You are special, the best that is in all worlds, universes and dimensions. You're just a sight for sore eyes. To you I feel the most powerful, love and ****** inclination. You're cooler than any ****** and afrodosiak. From your beauty just cling to the constraints and embarrassment.
**** Barbie, fell in love with you powerfully for sure. Wow. God, how beautiful you are, God, hell, let me see you, wow, this is just super, just super, my God, it’s necessary to what extent a girl can be beautiful, you're just awesome, just awesome, you're beautiful. My Goddess. About you, I will dream of all eternity, desire and crave only you alone. You're high, ecstasy. In your eyes there is some special fairytale beauty. Lady of my heart. You are the continuation of my soul. Billions of suns of joy, happiness, and love explode in the soul and this every time you see. With you every second is overflowing with the warm, divine, sunshine of true love, happiness and joy. You are like hypnotic sitar music. I would kiss your hands and feet every day. I want to constantly have *** with only one you. You are the embodiment of ****** and ****** passion. Only your skin color is infinitely exciting and falling in love. Your **** voice excites, and intonation falls in love. In you, literally everything excites. You are beautiful in any form, place, dress. If I see you, then the day is not in vain. Your image is powerfully falling in love. Oh meamor, goose bumps run through when you touch me, your breath stops when you look at me.
You're too beautiful. You are a **** lioness. You are the flame of sensual passion. You are a thermonuclear *** bomb. I admire your amazing beauty. You are amazing, perfect, you are perfect. I think so. Your flesh is sweeter than sweet. In bed, sultry lioness. The color of your skin is so ****, ******, and very attractive and beautiful. You have a rare and amazing beauty. You are the most beautiful in the universe, all universes, dimensions, all worlds. You are the supreme creation of nature and of God, the highest, perfect being. This is true because I think so.
Your charming charm is a super **** mega power that is simply impossible to overcome. The sweetest gourmet, I adore your gorgeous body, when I see you, only one word sounds in my head: yum, I will completely give myself to you. I will always love only you unconsciously, unconsciously, your gently ****** image sat in the depths of my mind completely. From your amazingly contagious beauty, your mouth opens and you lose your voice. Dizzyingly, stunningly beautiful, you are like a giant tornado, from which everything attracts you. And the heart and soul yearn all the time only for you. It doesn't matter if you love me or not, the main thing is that I still love you, and in my subconscious mind, I will only love you forever. Your luxurious appearance of the highest quality, this is a workshop, the filigree work of Mother Nature, this is just a masterpiece that constitutes a unique example of true beauty, you have no equal, you are a girl of high caliber. You are absolutely beautiful to such a degree, so beautiful, so exotic, ******, and your image sounds poetic like very beautiful music of love that I’m just afraid and shy to come to you, I’m afraid to talk to you, as if standing next to a goddess, or with a super mega star, a world scale model that even aliens probably know. My heart beats more often, I can’t speak normally, from excitement, goosebumps all over my body, and it just shakes. All these are symptoms of true love for you, well, just: oh), wow).
To be your boyfriend and husband is the greatest honor in the world, he knelt in front of you with flowers in his hands. Your appearance is perfect just like Barbie. You are so beautiful that only you want to have *** forever, countless, infinite number of times. You are unattainable, you are like a star whose light of the soul, like a searchlight, illuminates me in the deep darkness of solitude. In love with you thorough. You are simply amazingly beautiful. You are the best of the best. Goddess of all goddesses, empress of all empresses, queen of all queens. More beautiful you just can not imagine a girl. Sexier than you just can not be anything. Beautiful soul just is not found. There was nothing more perfect than you and never will be, simply because I think so. Laponka, I'm your faithful fan, you are my only idol, idol, icon of beauty. It doesn't matter who you are, I will accept you any. Because in any case I am eager to be only with you. You have a **** smile, and your sensual look is just awesome. And from your voice and look a pleasant shiver all over your body. You are special, the best that is in all worlds, universes and dimensions. You're just a sight for sore eyes. To you I feel the most powerful, love and ****** inclination. You're cooler than any ****** and afrodosiak. From your beauty just cling to the constraints and embarrassment.
I am obsessed only with you, my miss universe, I put madness billion points of your beautiful appearance, and a sign of infinity to boot. No offense, my sweetest, but your beautiful body excites, your imagination completely amazes you, you are so beautiful that you do not need, neither cosmetics, nor clothes, such perfect, natural beauty, only your divine beautiful body is endowed. Merge together the whole with your body, soul, heart, and mind, for all eternity I thirst. You dominate in my heart, mind, and soul, you are deep in my mind and subconscious, everything is filled only by you my goddess, and I see you in my dreams and I am sincerely happy when I see you in them. If I saw you in reality, then it was a happy day that was not in vain. Be with me dear, as you decorate with you all the eternity that I want to spend only with you one-on-one. You are my beautiful goddess of love and eroticism, and only I worship you. Rare, beautiful beauty, natural gave only you. The closer you are, the more beautiful. Your delicate skin shines so beautifully in the light, you have a stunning perfect skin color. I am overly in love with you. You are super beautiful. I tirelessly crave you, you are extremely, infinitely beautiful, you are too, too attractive. You're cooler than any ******. Impeccably beautiful, like a doll. You are so delicious. You are the light of happiness, the light of love and happiness comes and goes with you. You decorate everything with you, everything suits you, because you are beautiful.
You are stunning, fantastically breathtakingly beautiful, the only unique sample of the true, pure form of beauty. You are the hottest, **** topic, about the beauty of which it is impossible to stop talking, so beautiful that you want to sing out of love for you, the girl from whom it is impossible to take your eyes off. So amazingly beautiful, perfect, ******, hot, passionately savory, juicy forms, your divinely beautiful, endlessly, stunning beautiful, seductive body sound so captivatingly beautiful, sweet, gently voluptuous. Who wants to caress and caress, kiss, lick, stick to intimate places all the time, and give your tenderness with your hands, and bring it to ****** so that you feel the heat and tremor of your heated body, and kiss a satisfied body and kiss. Each cell of the soul and body is supremely filled with only you, love and excitement. Truly I am thirsty to belong only to you and to spend all eternity only with you alone.
I will be frank with you. Oooh yes, it says heart and mind. Eyes are eager to see you forever. Your image throws on the highest stage of love. Without you, life is meaningless and empty, and you know that for sure, so why are you torturing me. You know, I appeared in your life for a reason. That I was created only for you. You are special, I can not live without you. You are my obsession, my passion. Your beautiful image sounds so beautiful and sublime, the degree of love and arousal rises uncontrollably, leading to a higher dimension called love. When you stand next to me. Your ******, ****** image is the highest, divine, legendary *****. You are the sweetest in the whole universe. You are sensual, ****, ****** power. You are so ****** and **** to such an extent that when you look at the guys, it’s ironic that you guys, at the sight of you from excitement, end up in your underpants. You are the one whose appearance is envied by all people, gods, all higher beings, you are the only eternal value. You are a hipper, a turbo is ****, you are a hyperrealism of sexuality.
You have the most juicy **** skin color, it is so sweet, so beckoning and eager caress. You are the goddess of love, *** and erotica. Every millimeter of your body is just perfect and perfect. You are all that my heart and soul wants. Only your body and your kisses can excite me. Only to your body, I feel *** addiction. You are the highest value in my life. You are tempted and tempted, you want to have *** countless times. Your skin is the color of one hot, unforgettable night, your libido is the word lava in your hot body, burning passion, only your photos can excite me, only your beauty turns off my brain, you are a ****, ****** melody in my head, you are like a hot bath after a hard day, like an ****** massage, like a soft pillow with sleeping softness.
Every day I am drawn to you more and more and it can not be stopped because it is uncontrollable every day my ****** ***** wants you more and more aggressively he is waiting for endless *** only with you and I once again make sure that you are I will want forever and ever. Because I am truly in love with you in your body and soul. And this feeling is only enhanced with time on the mental and physical levels. Looking at you in the head is only one word Goddess, the empress of my heart, or one ***. It's just an ecstasy of excitement, every movement you take is so ****** and beautiful, burning your skin's passion and in your eyes so much ***.
You are a **** lioness. you are the flame of sensual passion. I admire your amazing beauty. You are amazing, perfect, you are perfect. I think so. Your flesh is sweeter than sweet. In bed, sultry lioness.
Author Musin Almat Zhumabekovich

NUMB, half asleep, and dazed with whirl of wheels,
And gasp of steam, and measured clank of chains,
I heard a blithe voice break a sudden pause,
Ringing familiarly through the lamp-lit night,
“Wife, here's your Venice!”
I was lifted down,
And gazed about in stupid wonderment,
Holding my little Katie by the hand—
My yellow-haired step-daughter. And again
Two strong arms led me to the water-brink,
And laid me on soft cushions in a boat,—
A queer boat, by a queerer boatman manned—
Swarthy-faced, ragged, with a scarlet cap—
Whose wild, weird note smote shrilly through the dark.
Oh yes, it was my Venice! Beautiful,
With melancholy, ghostly beauty—old,
And sorrowful, and weary—yet so fair,
So like a queen still, with her royal robes,
Full of harmonious colour, rent and worn!
I only saw her shadow in the stream,
By flickering lamplight,—only saw, as yet,
White, misty palace-portals here and there,
Pillars, and marble steps, and balconies,
Along the broad line of the Grand Canal;
And, in the smaller water-ways, a patch
Of wall, or dim bridge arching overhead.
But I could feel the rest. 'Twas Venice!—ay,
The veritable Venice of my dreams.

I saw the grey dawn shimmer down the stream,
And all the city rise, new bathed in light,
With rose-red blooms on her decaying walls,
And gold tints quivering up her domes and spires—
Sharp-drawn, with delicate pencillings, on a sky
Blue as forget-me-nots in June. I saw
The broad day staring in her palace-fronts,
Pointing to yawning gap and crumbling boss,
And colonnades, time-stained and broken, flecked
With soft, sad, dying colours—sculpture-wreathed,
And gloriously proportioned; saw the glow
Light up her bright, harmonious, fountain'd squares,
And spread out on her marble steps, and pass
Down silent courts and secret passages,
Gathering up motley treasures on its way;—

Groups of rich fruit from the Rialto mart,
Scarlet and brown and purple, with green leaves—
Fragments of exquisite carving, lichen-grown,
Found, 'mid pathetic squalor, in some niche
Where wild, half-naked urchins lived and played—
A bright robe, crowned with a pale, dark-eyed face—
A red-striped awning 'gainst an old grey wall—
A delicate opal gleam upon the tide.

I looked out from my window, and I saw
Venice, my Venice, naked in the sun—
Sad, faded, and unutterably forlorn!—
But still unutterably beautiful.

For days and days I wandered up and down—
Holding my breath in awe and ecstasy,—
Following my husband to familiar haunts,
Making acquaintance with his well-loved friends,
Whose faces I had only seen in dreams
And books and photographs and his careless talk.
For days and days—with sunny hours of rest
And musing chat, in that cool room of ours,
Paved with white marble, on the Grand Canal;
For days and days—with happy nights between,
Half-spent, while little Katie lay asleep
Out on the balcony, with the moon and stars.

O Venice, Venice!—with thy water-streets—
Thy gardens bathed in sunset, flushing red
Behind San Giorgio Maggiore's dome—
Thy glimmering lines of haughty palaces
Shadowing fair arch and column in the stream—
Thy most divine cathedral, and its square,
With vagabonds and loungers daily thronged,
Taking their ice, their coffee, and their ease—
Thy sunny campo's, with their clamorous din,
Their shrieking vendors of fresh fish and fruit—
Thy churches and thy pictures—thy sweet bits
Of colour—thy grand relics of the dead—
Thy gondoliers and water-bearers—girls
With dark, soft eyes, and creamy faces, crowned
With braided locks as bright and black as jet—
Wild ragamuffins, picturesque in rags,
And swarming beggars and old witch-like crones,
And brown-cloaked contadini, hot and tired,
Sleeping, face-downward, on the sunny steps—
Thy fairy islands floating in the sun—
Thy poppy-sprinkled, grave-strewn Lido shore—

Thy poetry and thy pathos—all so strange!—
Thou didst bring many a lump into my throat,
And many a passionate thrill into my heart,
And once a tangled dream into my head.

'Twixt afternoon and evening. I was tired;
The air was hot and golden—not a breath
Of wind until the sunset—hot and still.
Our floor was water-sprinkled; our thick walls
And open doors and windows, shadowed deep
With jalousies and awnings, made a cool
And grateful shadow for my little couch.
A subtle perfume stole about the room
From a small table, piled with purple grapes,
And water-melon slices, pink and wet,
And ripe, sweet figs, and golden apricots,
New-laid on green leaves from our garden—leaves
Wherewith an antique torso had been clothed.
My husband read his novel on the floor,
Propped up on cushions and an Indian shawl;
And little Katie slumbered at his feet,
Her yellow curls alight, and delicate tints
Of colour in the white folds of her frock.
I lay, and mused, in comfort and at ease,
Watching them both and playing with my thoughts;
And then I fell into a long, deep sleep,
And dreamed.
I saw a water-wilderness—
Islands entangled in a net of streams—
Cross-threads of rippling channels, woven through
Bare sands, and shallows glimmering blue and broad—
A line of white sea-breakers far away.
There came a smoke and crying from the land—
Ruin was there, and ashes, and the blood
Of conquered cities, trampled down to death.
But here, methought, amid these lonely gulfs,
There rose up towers and bulwarks, fair and strong,
Lapped in the silver sea-mists;—waxing aye
Fairer and stronger—till they seemed to mock
The broad-based kingdoms on the mainland shore.
I saw a great fleet sailing in the sun,
Sailing anear the sand-slip, whereon broke
The long white wave-crests of the outer sea,—
Pepin of Lombardy, with his warrior hosts—
Following the ****** steps of Attila!
I saw the smoke rise when he touched the towns
That lay, outposted, in his ravenous reach;

Then, in their island of deep waters,* saw
A gallant band defy him to his face,
And drive him out, with his fair vessels wrecked
And charred with flames, into the sea again.
“Ah, this is Venice!” I said proudly—“queen
Whose haughty spirit none shall subjugate.”

It was the night. The great stars hung, like globes
Of gold, in purple skies, and cast their light
In palpitating ripples down the flood
That washed and gurgled through the silent streets—
White-bordered now with marble palaces.
It was the night. I saw a grey-haired man,
Sitting alone in a dark convent-porch—
In beggar's garments, with a kingly face,
And eyes that watched for dawnlight anxiously—
A weary man, who could not rest nor sleep.
I heard him muttering prayers beneath his breath,
And once a malediction—while the air
Hummed with the soft, low psalm-chants from within.
And then, as grey gleams yellowed in the east,
I saw him bend his venerable head,
Creep to the door, and knock.
Again I saw
The long-drawn billows breaking on the land,
And galleys rocking in the summer noon.
The old man, richly retinued, and clad
In princely robes, stood there, and spread his arms,
And cried, to one low-kneeling at his feet,
“Take thou my blessing with thee, O my son!
And let this sword, wherewith I gird thee, smite
The impious tyrant-king, who hath defied,
Dethroned, and exiled him who is as Christ.
The Lord be good to thee, my son, my son,
For thy most righteous dealing!”
And again
'Twas that long slip of land betwixt the sea
And still lagoons of Venice—curling waves
Flinging light, foamy spray upon the sand.
The noon was past, and rose-red shadows fell
Across the waters. Lo! the galleys came
To anchorage again—and lo! the Duke
Yet once more bent his noble head to earth,
And laid a victory at the old man's feet,
Praying a blessing with exulting heart.
“This day, my well-belovèd, thou art blessed,
And Venice with thee, for St. Peter's sake.

And I will give thee, for thy bride and queen,
The sea which thou hast conquered. Take this ring,
As sign of her subjection, and thy right
To be her lord for ever.”
Once again
I saw that old man,—in the vestibule
Of St. Mark's fair cathedral,—circled round
With cardinals and priests, ambassadors
And the noblesse of Venice—richly robed
In papal vestments, with the triple crown
Gleaming upon his brows. There was a hush:—
I saw a glittering train come sweeping on,
From the blue water and across the square,
Thronged with an eager multitude,—the Duke,
And with him Barbarossa, humbled now,
And fain to pray for pardon. With bare heads,
They reached the church, and paused. The Emperor knelt,
Casting away his purple mantle—knelt,
And crept along the pavement, as to kiss
Those feet, which had been weary twenty years
With his own persecutions. And the Pope
Lifted his white haired, crowned, majestic head,
And trod upon his neck,—crying out to Christ,
“Upon the lion and adder shalt thou go—
The dragon shalt thou tread beneath thy feet!”
The vision changed. Sweet incense-clouds rose up
From the cathedral altar, mix'd with hymns
And solemn chantings, o'er ten thousand heads;
And ebbed and died away along the aisles.
I saw a train of nobles—knights of France—
Pass 'neath the glorious arches through the crowd,
And stand, with halo of soft, coloured light
On their fair brows—the while their leader's voice
Rang through the throbbing silence like a bell.
“Signiors, we come to Venice, by the will
Of the most high and puissant lords of France,
To pray you look with your compassionate eyes
Upon the Holy City of our Christ—
Wherein He lived, and suffered, and was lain
Asleep, to wake in glory, for our sakes—
By Paynim dogs dishonoured and defiled!
Signiors, we come to you, for you are strong.
The seas which lie betwixt that land and this
Obey you. O have pity! See, we kneel—
Our Masters bid us kneel—and bid us stay
Here at your feet until you grant our prayers!”
Wherewith the knights fell down upon their knees,

And lifted up their supplicating hands.
Lo! the ten thousand people rose as one,
And shouted with a shout that shook the domes
And gleaming roofs above them—echoing down,
Through marble pavements, to the shrine below,
Where lay the miraculous body of their Saint
(Shed he not heavenly radiance as he heard?—
Perfuming the damp air of his secret crypt),
And cried, with an exceeding mighty cry,
“We do consent! We will be pitiful!”
The thunder of their voices reached the sea,
And thrilled through all the netted water-veins
Of their rich city. Silence fell anon,
Slowly, with fluttering wings, upon the crowd;
And then a veil of darkness.
And again
The filtered sunlight streamed upon those walls,
Marbled and sculptured with divinest grace;
Again I saw a multitude of heads,
Soft-wreathed with cloudy incense, bent in prayer—
The heads of haughty barons, armed knights,
And pilgrims girded with their staff and scrip,
The warriors of the Holy Sepulchre.
The music died away along the roof;
The hush was broken—not by him of France—
By Enrico Dandolo, whose grey head
Venice had circled with the ducal crown.
The old man looked down, with his dim, wise eyes,
Stretching his hands abroad, and spake. “Seigneurs,
My children, see—your vessels lie in port
Freighted for battle. And you, standing here,
Wait but the first fair wind. The bravest hosts
Are with you, and the noblest enterprise
Conceived of man. Behold, I am grey-haired,
And old and feeble. Yet am I your lord.
And, if it be your pleasure, I will trust
My ducal seat in Venice to my son,
And be your guide and leader.”
When they heard,
They cried aloud, “In God's name, go with us!”
And the old man, with holy weeping, passed
Adown the tribune to the altar-steps;
And, kneeling, fixed the cross upon his cap.
A ray of sudden sunshine lit his face—
The grand, grey, furrowed face—and lit the cross,
Until it twinkled like a cross of fire.
“We shall be safe with him,” the people said,

Straining their wet, bright eyes; “and we shall reap
Harvests of glory from our battle-fields!”

Anon there rose a vapour from the sea—
A dim white mist, that thickened into fog.
The campanile and columns were blurred out,
Cathedral domes and spires, and colonnades
Of marble palaces on the Grand Canal.
Joy-bells rang sadly and softly—far away;
Banners of welcome waved like wind-blown clouds;
Glad shouts were muffled into mournful wails.
A Doge was come to be enthroned and crowned,—
Not in the great Bucentaur—not in pomp;
The water-ways had wandered in the mist,
And he had tracked them, slowly, painfully,
From San Clemente to Venice, in a frail
And humble gondola. A Doge was come;
But he, alas! had missed his landing-place,
And set his foot upon the blood-stained stones
Betwixt the blood-red columns. Ah, the sea—
The bride, the queen—she was the first to turn
Against her passionate, proud, ill-fated lord!

Slowly the sea-fog melted, and I saw
Long, limp dead bodies dangling in the sun.
Two granite pillars towered on either side,
And broad blue waters glittered at their feet.
“These are the traitors,” said the people; “they
Who, with our Lord the Duke, would overthrow
The government of Venice.”
And anon,
The doors about the palace were made fast.
A great crowd gathered round them, with hushed breath
And throbbing pulses. And I knew their lord,
The Duke Faliero, knelt upon his knees,
On the broad landing of the marble stairs
Where he had sworn the oath he could not keep—
Vexed with the tyrannous oligarchic rule
That held his haughty spirit netted in,
And cut so keenly that he writhed and chafed
Until he burst the meshes—could not keep!
I watched and waited, feeling sick at heart;
And then I saw a figure, robed in black—
One of their dark, ubiquitous, supreme
And fearful tribunal of Ten—come forth,
And hold a dripping sword-blade in the air.
“Justice has fallen on the traitor! See,
His blood has paid the forfeit of his crime!”

And all the people, hearing, murmured deep,
Cursing their dead lord, and the council, too,
Whose swift, sure, heavy hand had dealt his death.

Then came the night, all grey and still and sad.
I saw a few red torches flare and flame
Over a little gondola, where lay
The headless body of the traitor Duke,
Stripped of his ducal vestments. Floating down
The quiet waters, it passed out of sight,
Bearing him to unhonoured burial.
And then came mist and darkness.
Lo! I heard
The shrill clang of alarm-bells, and the wails
Of men and women in the wakened streets.
A thousand torches flickered up and down,
Lighting their ghastly faces and bare heads;
The while they crowded to the open doors
Of all the churches—to confess their sins,
To pray for absolution, and a last
Lord's Supper—their viaticum, whose death
Seemed near at hand—ay, nearer than the dawn.
“Chioggia is fall'n!” they cried, “and we are lost!”

Anon I saw them hurrying to and fro,
With eager eyes and hearts and blither feet—
Grave priests, with warlike weapons in their hands,
And delicate women, with their ornaments
Of gold and jewels for the public fund—
Mix'd with the bearded crowd, whose lives were given,
With all they had, to Venice in her need.
No more I heard the wailing of despair,—
But great Pisani's blithe word of command,
The dip of oars, and creak of beams and chains,
And ring of hammers in the arsenal.
“Venice shall ne'er be lost!” her people cried—
Whose names were worthy of the Golden Book—
“Venice shall ne'er be conquered!”
And anon
I saw a scene of triumph—saw the Doge,
In his Bucentaur, sailing to the land—
Chioggia behind him blackened in the smoke,
Venice before, all banners, bells, and shouts
Of passionate rejoicing! Ten long months
Had Genoa waged that war of life and death;
And now—behold the remnant of her host,
Shrunken and hollow-eyed and bound with chains—
Trailing their galleys in the conqueror's wake!

Once more the tremulous waters, flaked with light;
A covered vessel, with an armèd guard—
A yelling mob on fair San Giorgio's isle,
And ominous whisperings in the city squares.
Carrara's noble head bowed down at last,
Beaten by many storms,—his golden spurs
Caught in the meshes of a hidden snare!
“O Venice!” I cried, “where is thy great heart
And honourable soul?”
And yet once more
I saw her—the gay Sybaris of the world—
The rich voluptuous city—sunk in sloth.
I heard Napoleon's cannon at her gates,
And her degenerate nobles cry for fear.
I saw at last the great Republic fall—
Conquered by her own sickness, and with scarce
A noticeable wound—I saw her fall!
And she had stood above a thousand years!
O Carlo Zeno! O Pisani! Sure
Ye turned and groaned for pity in your graves.
I saw the flames devour her Golden Book
Beneath the rootless “Tree of Liberty;”
I saw the Lion's le

through the streets and column cracks
culture weaves and summer smacks
sacred figures, holy shrine
monastery in grand design

cathedrals, convents, heaven’s stars
god of neptune, god of mars
doge’s palace, alley ways
gondolier on full display

winged lions on pastel breeze
cicada singing from the trees
pillar walk of saint mark's square
basilica in all its flare

crosses shade the carousel
a bridge of sigh that leads to hell
golden stairs on placid ridge
arches of rialto bridge

torcello! murano! grigio!
the countess rides the river poe!
sins of seven, fiery hides
poplars bank the levee side

black plague, attila the ***
eden formed before the sun
paradise above the marsh
high alter, gothic arch

middle age, religious wars
celestial fountains, marble floors
sculpted peacock, catholic faith
all is true the great god saith

Rock and Roll and Rolling Rockers
Her eyes shine like wet graffiti paint
slow motion emotion
showing dubious devotions
You own nothing right now
cause you can't handle anything
Teenage mouths babble
Teenage minds travel
in fast cars driven carelessly
words fly by
Doge
Doge
Don't collide
With a mouth a spitting out words
they add up
pile up
till they become their own little world
you don't won't to hear that
or even see
yet all the time you are wondering
where is a little world for me

Beauty out in the open, light falls on linoleum tiles like heel-worn stones
Windows to a sunny world sit at the end of locker-lined tunnels, beckoning beyond fluorescent mazes
Clotted with conversation, upperclassmen stroll like the elderly
Young blood doge or cling to the sides, scared of the critical runway that is us

Windows to a sunny world sit at the end of locker-lined tunnels, beckoning beyond fluorescent mazes
Eyes from all sides, thinking nothing yet are supplied by our own thoughts
Young blood doge or cling to the sides, scared of the critical runway that is us
Finding refuge in educational terrariums, an ecosystem that saves me from the weight

Eyes from all sides, thinking nothing yet are supplied by our own thoughts
Finding solace in stairwells, sealed off by doors and hold awkward opportunities
Finding refuge in educational terrariums, an ecosystem that saves me from the weight
Clanging like a child’s cry releases stress like floodgates, another trip into the shark tank

Finding solace in stairwells, sealed off by doors and hold awkward opportunities
Open doors that are actually closed; they are like aquariums – no tapping on the glass please.
Clanging like a child’s cry releases stress like floodgates, another trip into the shark tank
The longer I stay the more I wish to leave, away from substituted confrontations


Open doors that are actually closed; they are like aquariums – no tapping on the glass please.
Prejudice like heavy rain beats at my skin and soaks my clothes - but I know it was I who brought the downpour
The longer I stay the more I wish to leave, away from substituted confrontations
Must comparisons be so obvious when I walk alone, unprotected? They are lucky to have such equals to act as parents; they hold each other’s hands to keep from drowning

Prejudice like heavy rain beats at my skin and soaks my clothes – but I know it was I who brought the downpour
They pull like vultures at flesh; I am not allowed to wrap myself in hurricanes while out in the open
Must comparisons be so obvious when I walk alone, unprotected? They are lucky to have such equals to act as parents; they hold each other’s hands to keep from drowning
Ignorance is bliss, they say, and truth that is here – the less you know the less hate you bear the weight of.

They pull like vultures at flesh; I am not allowed to wrap myself in hurricanes while out in the open
Look down, one foot – and then the other!
Ignorance is bliss they say, and truth that is here – the less you know the less hate you bear the weight of.
Anger and sadness, guilt and fear turn like Viewmaster slides lit up by the sun

Or am I on my own here? Each boy's path runs along each other like long-exposure stars, leaving streaks between the darkness.

My technology nightmare
Leaves me euphoric this morning.
Addicted, like drug trials,
I knew the risks going in,
Got hooked in The Cloud &
Now it always seems easier,
With diminished psychic chafing
Whenever I go with the flow, as the
Hipsters are saying again.
Yes, the hipsters:
Finally, some kids I can relate to.
At least on some level, their music e.g.
The first thing I did this morning,
Waiting for my laptop to boot,
Was put a CD on the stereo:
Matrix Reloaded: The Album.
I set the shuffle function,
Looping back between
Linkin Park’s Session &
Team Sleep’s Passportal.
You can tell a lot about
What kind of day it will be
By the soundtrack you choose,
Your infinite play list,
Don’t ever say these kids have no culture,
Or nothing to share with us old farts.
Old Farts: an apt, Baby Boomer term in 2015.
Kids’ music, some of it quite good,
Quite 60s-worthy if you catch my drift,
As we used to say while grazing in the grass with
Hugh Masekela & his Naai Mongoe-Swazi red,
Surfrikan homeboys & band mates, & that
ANC Kwa-Guqa Township posse,
Shadowing him since Sharpeville.
That’s right, Babaloo,
Go with the flow.
Don’t fight it. You’ve been spared the unintended
Consequences of government shenanigans &
Free market meltdowns.
Consider this a CEASE & DESIST NOTICE:
Cease swimming upstream Mr. Phelps.
Desist fighting tide & current, Michael.
A mariner’s distinction, yet serviceable &
Purposed for this narrative.
“And away we go,” croons a Gleason levitation;
Aloft we go into the wild blue yonder.
The Cloud: an exalted playground.
You are atop the slide,
Kindergarten lord of all you survey,
Sultan, Chinese Emperor & Venetian Doge,
A 90-caliber Duke of Earl,
You are euphoric, Mike.

The descent into the humanoid condition
(See Paddy Chayefsky’s Howard Beale),
Is slick and precipitous.
It begins when you first finger ****
A pocket calculator or touchtone phone,
Or use a Xerox machine.
From there it’s a quick slide down
The technology ****-shoot: video games,
Spreadsheets & word processors,
Emails, texts & tweets,
Laser projection keyboards,
Wi-Fi amplifiers,
GPS navigators, &
Apps for No-Strings *** . . .
By “****-shoot” I editorialize, of course,
In a state of future shock,
Resenting planned obsolescence,
Contemptuous of shrewd **** kids,
Wharton School sharpies,
Scoping out price curves & flowcharts,
Colluding at industry trade shows,
Powwows & confabs,
Releasing newer, more versatile
Models & spinoffs, according to a
Scheme planned three years in advance.

I salt the inevitable wounds of technology,
Taking my fight to the streets, realizing too late
My sole means of alerting the flash mob
Is by so-called smart phone,
*******!
Even the revolution has gone digital.
Poor Gil Scott Heron, dead last year at 62,
Poor Scott Heron, channeled into the
Harlem Renaissance by that loyal Chicago Defender,
Subscriber & reader, to wit: his Grandma,
A “Rainbow Conspiracy” co-conspirator,
Cooking ham hocks & collard greens for that
Mythical coalition of Young Lords,
Black Panthers & SDS.
Heron’s prognostication was wrong:
“The Revolution Will (In Fact) Be Televised!”
We’ve witnessed quite a bit of it,
Lately, prime time lately,
Live by satellite from once exotic places,
Places like Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Syria & Ferguson, MO.
I say “once exotic” because it’s hard to be
Visually intoxicated by images of screaming brown men
Sporting New York Yankee ball caps,
“Vote for Pedro” T-shirts and
$200.00 Air Jordan footwear.
Admittedly, the production values of
Revolutionary journalism have improved,
Action reported Hollywood-style,
Narrative arcs, scripted episodes,
Drive-by Potemkin villages & battle scenes,
30 or 60 or 90 day shooting schedules.
Spontaneous proletarian uprisings as Reality TV,
Riveting dramas,
High Nielsen ratings & $500K
Per minute corporate sponsors.
Let’s view the new fall line-up:
(1) “Mustafa Behaving Badly!”
(2) “Tunisian Tear Gas Talent!”
(3) “Gaddafi Gets Sodomized!”

EK BHEED SI LAGI THI SHAYAD MAR GAYA THA KOI,

ZANAZA UTHANE KO KI TAIYAR NA THA ,
KYONKI US MASUM KA PARIWAR NA THA,

DEKHA THA MAINE USE KAI DOSTO KE SATH,
SOCHA THA ZANAZA TO UTHAYENGE WE HI HATH,

JAB KOI NA AAYA TO YAH AAWAZ AAYI,

CHALO NIKAL CHALO KE KANHI UTHANA NA PADE,
WO DOST THWE JO CHUPE SE BAHAR NIKAL PADE,

KAFAN GEELA HUA AANKHO SE MURDA RO RAKA THA,

MURDA KHADA HUA KAFAN ME LIPTE HUE ,
PANHUCHA DOSTO TAK JO JA RAHE THE SIMTE HUE,

KANDHE PER RAKHA HATH TO YARO KA DIL DOLA,
KAFAN HATA DIYA MURDE NE WO RO ROKAR BOLA,

"MARNE PAR NA DOGE KANDHA YE DEKH SARMINDA HU,
MAINE TO NATAK KIYA THA YARO ABHI TO MAIN ZINDA HU"...

Meandering like its canals
Venetian streets sing underfoot.
Who wore away the stone cobbled streets?
Who walked down to the shore?
Who gazed out at the Adriatic?
Who's dreams were lost in Venice's stream of streets?

Licentious lovers loved in Venice's streets, kissed on her bridges,
Crossed under by gondola and over by foot.
Proposed at the piazza San Marco.
Kissed, while the Grand Canal wound her way down.
Down into the sea,
where the menace that is the world, Venice shuns.

Rialto, Doge, Basilica, St. Marks, pigeons!
All evoke that lagoon city of streets.
Originally refugees, incolae lacunae ("lagoon dwellers")
Venetians, gave not only a place for the dispossessed,
but a place for the world to see, feel and taste.
Art, war, politics, commerce, spice and silk.

Venice with her ribbon of streets, alleyways and bridges
saw the Renaissance, the crusades, and the Black Death.
Glassware, paintings, sculptures, religion, refugees all
synonymous with that floating city.
A city returning to the water she arose from.
Subsiding with grief as she drowns in elegant decay.

empty hallways, forgotten voices
pictures hang, dusty and off balanced
cobwebs spread from door to mirror
a young rat scurries past the broken floor

his picture still hangs over the fireplace
a spider runs down his well-shaped nose
each brush stroke is thick and sculptured
the dust collects as sand dunes

the whole room seems mysterious
books of occult line the paint-chipped walls
the windows cracked the night air blows
dead trees peer down on slamming shutters

the old house creeks and cracks
howling doge are echos of past crickets sing songs of last dreams
this house, this ledgend infinte
captures one's mind as lonley and hideous
remembers it's myths fools false illusions
under the now dim light of the moon
spooks creep silent footsteps
his spirit surrounds the acre
truth and lies untested question
of how he lived alone from living

I’ve been listening to a lot of Willie Nelson lately,
A bootleg copy Outlaw Willie’s “Greatest Hits,”
Permanently inserted into the CD-player of my Honda:
An automobile preference,
An immediate dead giveaway,
A tag better than a license plate,
Useful for identification purposes,
Distinguishing friend from foe,
In this case a rolling, conspicuous enemy of
Detroit & rust belt environs.
Like other zombie-American consumers,
I **** the livelihood of my countrymen,
Once again, selling out friends & neighbors,
Doing my bit for Capitalism,
Exporting another job overseas.
I do my bit to help the 1%
Pay Labor back for the
Capitulations of the 1930s:
Unions winning concessions
In the street, pickets & strikes,
Boycotts & violence,
Largely mobbed-up violence.
Willie does a nice cover of “Heartbreak Hotel,”
Different, yet raw like Elvis,
And rocking.
But I digress.

So I’m thinking about the HOA Board,
(HOA: Home Owners' Association)
Local Thanes of Cawdor,
As if people over-55,
Living in gated lunacy,
Actually needed a 4th level of government.
The HOA Board turned down my landscape modification again.
Of course, they are just busting my *****.
They know I’m a hothead,
A deeply anti-authority type,
Forged in childhood in the street,
Through ringalevio & stickball,
“Your Mother” taunts,
******* contests,
Belly bumps,
Bones of contention,
In short: Brooklyn 101.
Retired now & for awhile I think
My problem with authority retired with me.
Just when I'm thinking
My lessons are finally done,
I realize there’s one more report card.
And Citizenship is a Grade:
“Plays Well With Others”
As it was for boys,
The measure of a man,
“It’s a community we have here,”
The HOA Doge & Ministerial Cohorts,
Conspiring to provoke
The sociopath in me, a fit description
For any would-be antagonist,
For anyone challenging
The Restrictions & Covenants,
Openly arrived at, in secret.
My neighbor,
Good Citizen Bernie
Reminds me that a community is
Entitled to know whom it’s dealing with.
The price of real estate not always
Effective for screening out
Potential psychopaths.
A determined caste-climber &
Boat rocker slips through now & then.
Insecure & angry because of it,
The schoolyard **** gone grey,
Yet hasn’t figured out the object of life is
To win friends & influence people.
Retirement: a Carnegie Deli &
Serenity Smorgasbord,
“Plays Well With Others.”
The HOA leadership has the right,
Has a duty to distinguish
The merely eccentric
From the clearly a present danger.
So they bust ***** about rules broken,
Code infractions, sordid violations,
Community norms transgressed.
Better you flip your wig
Under close observation & preparedness,
Than go off spontaneously.
One more massacre;
Another random bloodbath.

Can you envision a city built on a lagoon?
That's Venice, a name that always makes one swoon,
It has a reputation for canals rather than roads,
And a prime reason why one will never get bored

The famed gondola ride through the labyrinth of canals,
Is a must-have experience that is far from banal,
Gliding through serene waters with hardly a tilt,
While being serenaded by the cheerful gondolier's lilt

The epicenter of Venice is the popular St Mark's Square,
Teeming with tourists with a perennial effervescent flair,
Historic buildings and stately arcades form the periphery,
With an array of cafes and accompanying music for people to make merry

Witness the serpentine line of visitors entering St Mark's Basilica church,
Gazing at seemingly endless luminous gilded mosaics inside makes one almost lurch,
The Pala d'Oro altar of gold studded with hundreds of gems is a marvel to behold,
As are the mammoth innumerable columns that are so mind-boggling, if truth be told

The majestic Doge's Palace bears the stamp of masterpiece Gothic architecture,
Resting on a double arcade of marble columns lends solidity to the structure,
Spectacular halls and staircases adorn the interior, replete with exquisite paintings,
While ornate works of art complemented by more paintings are featured in the ceilings

The Bridge of Sighs is touted as one of the finest bridge architecture in the world,
The stylish Italian Renaissance connects the interrogation room to the prisoners' abode,
The sculptured sad or angry faces while crossing under the bridge can easily be seen,
Depicting sighs of prisoners awaiting their fate, as they mulled "what could have been"

The bustling Grand Canal is the central transport hub in picturesque Venice,
Gondolas, vaporettos and water taxis cruise up and down the canal without amiss,
Flanked by colorful buildings, iconic structures, buzzing markets and cobbled streets,
Time flies in hopping to various locations while savoring the glorious visual treat

The world famous Venetian glass has a history of its own,
Murano's glass museum visit facilitates all there is to be known,
For intricate shapes, it is a treat to watch the glass blower's skill,
Colorful designed vases and sculptures are effortlessly made at will

The lengthy arched Rialto Bridge is as old as the hills,
A crossover between San Polo and San Marco districts with hardly any frill,
It's breathtaking sunrise view receives considerable emcomium,
As a popular tourist spot, it needs no second opinion

As the bell-tower of the basilica, the Campanile is the tallest building in Venice,
The ring of each of the five bells is replete with history that one cannot miss,
The panoramic breathtaking view of Venice from the tower top,
Is one of the reasons why it is a must-experience visitors' stop

The mere mention of Venice always makes the lagoon city so exciting,
Little wonder that the annual Film Festival is a much-awaited outing,
The aura of glamor, glitz and entertainment never wanes any given year,
As folks continue to throng the city from far and near, with their near and dear

one might, invariably, drink red wine infused
with garlic to ward off evil spirits -
or as some claim...
50ml of the stuff at daily intervals
is part of a plan for slimming...
  me? i just don't mind the taste...
        like i wouldn't mind a kiss from an onion
or... slobbering into an ash-tray
sort of a girl mouth in one of those sticky floor
nightclubs circa the early 2000s we go into
for underage drinking...
being boys i do wonder what sort of *******
escapades we were supposed to unearth...
it's not like we were Pan-Am stewardesses
readying ourselves for some glitz,
some Ritz... some... thespian shadow-thieving
on the pristine screen...
garlic infused red wine...
it's not so bad... even though it's not mine
since, after all: the best ***** on the planet
is not your own - blah blah, blah...
but lucky for the 500 quid front suspension
trek marlin 5 arrived today and...
tomorrow i go catch the wind...
it feels like being six-teen again...
not that walking marathon distances is
a problem: Pots to herr belly...
from 104, kg, to circa 107, kg...
and that's still more than half...
of what mass-loss ought to "feel" like...
although... it doesn't feel like anything
when the "subjective" numbers come
across the "objective" numbers
but unlike walking...
where time and distance and the dimension
of movement are most pronounced...
a bicycle is unlike a horse
but is like a dog...
somehow...
   a bicycle is most certainly not a car
and a car is most certainly not a horse...
but a bicycle is... not...
it's... unlike a horse...
but like a dog...
that it's not a dog is pretty obvious...
but i'm conjuring up...
concepts like muzzle...
leash... WD40 oil for the chain...
and... enough air in the tires...
since we're not talking a road bicycle and
nothing has to be slender jimmy either...
it's a pristine orange...
the colour does matter, somehow...

when i liked jazz i stopped digressing
into classical...
when i stopped digressing into jazz
i allowed myself for
classical music to become complimentary
to things - complicated...
not that jazz wasn't...
but what it wasn't was that it wasn't
scripted and all that
"spontaneity" revels in exhausting itself
somehow: becomes predictable...

a jazz "us" vs. a classical "we": vs.
nothing so much clearly even remotely aligned
to that...
it was a Friday night and i was this close | |
to gauging my eyes out
after having watched a director's cut of a movie...
it beat the standard bearer...
whichever it was... Ben-Hur or Spartacus...
nearing to 4 hours of...
by the end of it: almost gauging my eyes out...
hardly Pavlov or drooling...
of making me an infantilised *******
sputnik moon-key...

a sense of: culture is dying...
what's predominately being "served"
is cancel is cancel is cancel is...
well... to overcome some variation
of nihilism ascribed to morals...
we found the modern woman in the 1950s
and 60s...
the supposed, modern man...
we'll find in the 2050s and the 2060s...
if we're lucky...
when a somewhat status quo returns...
otherwise: what's on offer is still
a dynamic of "arrogance" / agitation...

my insomniac libido...
my insomnia's insomnia...
why i wouldn't doge a cocktail of
alcohol... 250mg of naproxen...
and something resembling para-cet-a-mole
to switch-off...
i switch off:
i don't fall asleep... always...

complete with a thorough hard-on
i can exactly fathom by diluting it over
a mortal conversation with the opposite ***...
because there's this illusion
and it's stupendous...
etymological relaxation in order?
evidently history is placed within
a self-erasure composite glue...
work around this architecture...

my first... bicycle route...
the tires are pumped up
it took me close to 7 hours to walk
to st. paul's cathedral and back...

then one of those:
write everything via an anagram...
anagram: soul - losu -
                 los - which implies... fate...
losu? implies a possessive article of fate:
i.e. fate itself...
fate's whim...
              i had a dream yesterday...
i'm adamant the person i spoke
with dealt in the term... RESURRECTION...

i think i was talking to a zombie in a dream,
whoever i was talking to...
like the hues of Baltic amber...
an allotment of greens and blues...
tinges of orange mingling with yellows
and ripe reds...
nothing purpose filled like
purple followed: for the clarity of
dignifying mourning...
or an eternal clue for blue...

i was drinking medication!
i was duped!
two variations of grammar to decipher...
what it was i was drinking...

but i'll need to speak something
older than colt hing-leash...
i.e.
  garlic infused red wine
red wine infused with /
                                  by garlic...
it's a slimming elixir... apparently...

here goes! dive!

             knoblauchinfundiert rotwein...
rotwein infundiert mit /
                         durch knoblauch...
if i were drinking my own pīß...
                                         not enough: pish!
                                       pysh...
passer... by...    zilch on a leash...
it's a mix-up between py-š and py-ś...
     no... it's not even remotely related
to                                         π-σζ
ask a greek, though...
whether                           σζ can be coupled
like ae or oe...
                             given... SH... &...
                                            μαμ ση...
even the complexity of the mandarin skeletons
doesn't allow them to conjure up
more sounds behind the letters
that are already: a priori...
left... available...

tangled up in the affair of the "gods": or: not, god...
a mother seeks a supposition of a son...
we tells her...
while at the altar of words...
i began this session with red wine infused
with garlic... i'll end it with some
mulled wine...
the cat's my winged sphinx...
the cat's my winged sphinx...

for the toils beckon me remote...
i harvest a lineage that has to come to an end...
mother dear why you will not be grand...
while i won't be the fathering kind...
like it might not excused
for that thespian reality of....
gearing up to: froth forth at a pronto...
my red wine infused with garlic...

i knew i had to lend an ear to
the deutsche-zunge like
like Wend...
nieme-ludzie.... niemdy-lud...
although their black-forest gateau was
to... die for...
older than english...
this modern leash of...
this isn't the 21st century... is it...
this isn't the century of the culimation
of expectations... is, it?
if it is... where was "ground zero":
this... "Golgotha" of the supposedly
requested hour?
by what hour... are hours worth a count...
that sort of hour-ing, yes?

by the demands of what "suffices":
that i didn't speak with a god...
that i did encounter a chanced audience
with... the ******* choir... yes...
how does that sound...
having smoked marihuana
and having to "somehow" usher in...
something so antithesis of cosmopolitan...
sensible: i came across the god's choir...
but not god himself...
i cowered and started rummaging
occupying a space
before the great altar...
the great altar, so be it...
amen...              i hid under the tablature in
a white cloth...
an F a TH a PH but not a P- (prefix lady
added to the "complexity" of a response...

i met the choir, before i was allowed to
meet the deity...
last time i heard... from kabbalistic sources:
upon meeting the deity the sure
and impeding quest for death:
a clear sky... but a streak of cloud
making a quill be resembled, symbolic...
detailing a quasi-barricade...
between reality, reels, real and the races...

for an audience:
but such details are supposed to be...
confided without a public scrutiny...
then again... given my timing...
timing: not having to father children...
no ambitions of such: deeds... therein imploding...
red wine infused with garlic
for starters... mulled wine to finish it off
with an amnesia of sorts...

You sexygenic. Steep babe. It is unrealistic beautiful. Drooling flow of men from you only. Resist such as you simply useless. Your sweet laughter, your smile ****, soft look, perfect dress, fought on felling everybody. Do you relish the most juicy, sensual, tender, feminine passion. You are my love, emotional outlet. You are absolute, supreme steepness. The eternal novelty. Unbearable, too, in the highest degree, is beautiful and **** look beyond just you. You're in the highest stage of evolution, you are the most perfect, you're my idol, my ideal is the true and authentic embodiment of beauty. You **** ****** glow of love and passion. Your body brings to the highest level of excitation. You are very soft and feminine. You 1,000,000,000 Interest luxury, precious, unique, eternal value. All the good moments in life are associated with you only. Your sweet caresses and kisses is a very powerful drug. You are the most valuable gift of the universe. You're gorgeous in any type of image frame, everywhere, always and everywhere. In you is palpable surprisingly soft, sensual, tender. Beauty in your eyes is something amazing, uniquely beautiful, it is very beautiful bewitching magic. Very beautiful and indescribably pleasant feeling. Your wonderfully beautiful image easily and tenderly touches the very thin and barely visible strings of souls. Thereby causing a particular vibration melody of true love, thus it finally fall in love with you.
So beautiful and boldly, effektnaya.1 000 000 000 000 000 000 one likes you and the infinity sign to boot. From you comes and ****, ****** glow of love and lust. You set a new world record for the beauty. That can not be achieved. You're beautiful, socialite. You synonymous with beauty. Perpetual Standard and *** symbol in the history of mankind. Absolutely beautiful. As you perfect every millimeter of your beautiful body. The jaw droops and lost the power of speech from this incredible beauty. You just do not be offended please forgive me if something goes wrong. But from such a beautiful appearance as yours in males powerful ******* of the *****, boys and men commit themselves in underwear. Infinitely wonderful. Sexuality in the entire universe. To the extent that you are sexually even clothes are not needed. Are you for the happiest and luckiest man in the world. You is Jackpot. Flash, full house. *** symbol. Synonymous with beauty and ideal. You are so beautiful is amazing. you just look ****, sultry predator. You're the sweetest. From you comes so powerful, ****, ****** energy. you indescribably beautiful. You are spectacular, juicy, ****. M, sounds cool, mega cool, drums, lyrical rap bit. As a platinum and gold vinyl disk, you super-duper hit. You bestseller poetry and prose. You are my princess. Queen. The Empress. Goddess. Higher creation of all universes, fields and dimensions. I think so. On the doge to what extent may be beautiful woman. It's amazing. The queen of my mind and heart. Your sweet image fills my soul light, beautiful love and lust. You have such a gentle bubble skin. Your good looks forever won my heart and my mind. You are beautiful in its own way. You are endowed with rare beauty at all times. Fashion model. Just the thought of you excites and charms. You are a masterpiece of nature and of God himself. Your endlessly surprising beauty, the rare and surprising, the most beautiful in the history of mankind.
You **** lioness. you just flame sensual passion. I admire your amazing beauty. You're amazing, perfect, you're perfect. I think so. Your flesh is sweeter than sweet. In bed, sultry lioness.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich

Dans Venise la rouge,
Pas un bateau qui bouge ;
Pas un pêcheur dans l'eau,
Pas un falot.

Seul, assis à la grève,
Le grand lion soulève,
Sur l'horizon serein,
Son pied d'airain.

Autour de lui, par groupes,
Navires et chaloupes,
Pareils à des hérons
Couchés en ronds,

Dorment sur l'eau qui fume,
Et croisent dans la brume,
En légers tourbillons,
Leurs pavillons.

La lune qui s'efface
Couvre son front qui passe
D'un nuage étoilé
Demi-voilé.

Ainsi, la dame abbesse
De Sainte-Croix rabaisse
Sa cape aux larges plis
Sur son surplis.

Et les palais antiques,
Et les graves portiques,
Et les blancs escaliers.
Des chevaliers,

Et les ponts, et les rues,
Et les mornes statues,
Et le golfe mouvant
Qui tremble au vent,

Tout se tait, fors les gardes
Aux longues hallebardes,
Qui veillent aux créneaux
Des arsenaux.

- Ah ! maintenant plus d'une
Attend, au clair de lune,
Quelque jeune muguet,
L'oreille au guet.

Pour le bal qu'on prépare,
Plus d'une qui se pare,
Met devant son miroir
Le masque noir.

Sur sa couche embaumée,
La Vanina pâmée
Presse encor son amant,
En s'endormant ;

Et Narcisa, la folle,
Au fond de sa gondole,
S'oublie en un festin
Jusqu'au matin.

Et qui, dans l'Italie,
N'a son grain de folie ?
Qui ne garde aux amours
Ses plus beaux jours ?

Laissons la vieille horloge,
Au palais du vieux doge,
Lui compter de ses nuits
Les longs ennuis.

Comptons plutôt, ma belle,
Sur ta bouche rebelle
Tant de baisers donnés...
Ou pardonnés.

Comptons plutôt tes charmes,
Comptons les douces larmes,
Qu'à nos yeux a coûté
La volupté !

tints of irony
shade the illuminescence
of the doge's death

I had a dream I was *******
over the balustrade of the arcade
at the top of the Scalla
in the Palazzo Contarini del Bovolo.
Venice's rooftops stretched out beneath me,
completely dark.
cemetery silent.
the only sound was my **** hitting
the calle below.
upon finishing, I turned
and told a shadow, as I
zipped up my jeans,
"let's go get espresso, I need a cigarette."

I hope it was prescient.
I hope the shadow was you.
I hope you read this one.

you most likely won't.
forever the shadow on what I do.

The Memes. What are they. Maybe it is Pepe the frog making you cry. Maybe it is Ugandan Knuckles making you question if you know the wheh. Maybe it is grumpy cat making you grumpy of everyone around you. Maybe it is Doge and his rainbow "sentences"  making you forget how to talk. Who knows.

when the autumn ends

will be we passed ammends?

doge the

                     pain.....

to get
           hit from another direction

i'll just fall.....

and get up again

don't you worry






           about David