I have been drinking wine
To douse the burning tip of my mind
Worries chewing at my nerves
Like the filter end of a rich Havana cigar
Woes of this world turn my whiskers
Into drab willows of misery
My nights into endless nightmares
And my thoughts rattling and jarring
Like the business end of a mechanical hammer.

Dreams clad in limp loincloth
Revisit me from the dark
Urns of history
The salad days of our beings
And their neauseating euphoria
When in drunken trance we siezed
Conscience by her arms
And threw her on her back
Splayed her legs
And smacked our lips
As blood spurt out...
I wipe my mind with the back of my hand
Trying
To brush away the dregs of the sordid rituals
We once enshrined.

A plump shiny green bottle
Buzzes around my mind irritating
Reminding me of Death
Hanging mockingly
Like a pendulum over my mind seducing
''O Sweet Carrion
You are food for the elders!''
And my sins in their hordes shimmer
A deathly pale round the nooze
Suspended from blushing heaven's bottom
My mind's eyes shed crystal tears
Giving away bucketfuls of Chiyadzwa diamonds to regain
Long gone and lost innocence.

I shared a bottle of wine
With my new-found friend, Today
Clinking glasses and minds
Then a greenbottle in full flight
Was caught between the grinding bellies
Of our glasses and minds
Bloodied fleshrot bespattered our intelligence
And our minds rushed to the wash basins retching
A brush with the fetid breath of the past
Left the gums of my mind barren and obscene
And together with newfound friend, Today
We covered our private parts with our hands
Ashamed
At the ****** of our thoughts.

She knocked at the door of my mind
Eyes shadowed in wet grey paint
Lips smudged in scarlet smiled at me
A Good Morning
My palm hiding the discoloured teeth
Of my inner-self
I muffled a Good Mourning to her, but
I felt a warmth spreading
At the base of my belly
Her milky-white mouthful was inviting
A milkyway blaze trailing into deep future
''I will flirt with her'' my mind whispered
But then the rasping sandpaper touch of her lips
Bruised and bloodied my thoughts
And I saw red at the future.

I must have swooned
From the First Lady's fistkisses of philanthropy
Doling out sweet nothings and promises
At a ceremony sheathed in royal pomp and dignity
Where the guests dressed like Harlequins
Mesmerised us with the crablike dance
And flummoxed O poor we
With democratic mumbo-jumbo and lingo
And the Povo touched with feeling
Donated oceanfuls of diamond tears
And their sincere prayers a mutter flutter
Into the heavens for beloved leaders.

I broke Biltong , my past, into the ***
To give life to ailing friend, Today
With my fingernail I peeled off
The tomatoe's tough ruddy jacket
To make sauce
And I heard a rumble of objection
From the August House
And the Mujibhas and Chimbwidos' angry yawn
Gave a chilli spice to the dish
And the food touching Today 's lips
He sneezed and broke wind
Startling ghosts of old nostalgic memories
That had took seats at the kitchen table
To wing away to the scrapyard
Their home beyond the rusting horizon.

Perched on the anthill of anticipation
I roll my thoughts
Into a big joint of mbanje
I **** and grey fading puffs
Of wishes spiral into the bored sky
Each a crippled dream
That was bulldozed at Churu Farm
An ambitious dream that was displaced
By the Operation Murambatsvina
A dream that lost an eye and limb in the food riots
A dream that lost its ***** at university
A dream that fell from the 11th floor at the Towers
Into the Taxman's hat
A dream that drowned in the opaque beer tank
At the Uhuru celebrations
A dream that lost its breath
On top of another man's wife in Mbare
A dream dumped and disowned
Only to find home at the bottom of the Blair toilet...
To find home in the sympathetic clicks
Of poets who have lost their voices.

The stub is burning my fingers
Minds run out of fuel and fire
The angry verbal lash
Of the emotionally wounded
Is a stub licking back at the wielder
To be snuffed out and discarded
On the ash tray of hopelessness
The grave yard that houses all
Once active minds.

-dougwa-

I don't always feel you

nor do i care.

nor shall i fare

the weather of your temperament.

I am exempt of the pettiness, and of the nervous fetishes, in the indifference.

I try not to be presumptuous, in the perceived ignorance, of the plunderers of my wealth

but am more alive.

More willing to die.

More willing to try

anything but sigh

in feeling the mediocre hand of my health.

So high

doling out the breathless help, in the restless stealth, of bland demands, felt,  in the smoking stacks of hell.

I survive off the glean, provoking, glass from sand.

I act,  as though i give a ****.

Evoking ash from hands, in the defiance of no mans land.

Stamped

in the trampled giants of the black.

Sampled, the compliant hacks in backless, tackling of the stance.

Cackling

I cracked.

and cracked the cast, in blast powder, compounding the flames, of the flounder flamed, in profane name calling.

Never to dodge the calling ..

Feeling the falling of doubt.

In the Tao,  of mauling my malevolence.

Thought i bled it out, as the stalling turned to insulting rebukes, in the flukes,  of lands never lived, but shredded in repulsing lingo, with a flute, to do away with the kids, I mingle, in wait of the sedatives to kick in, than,

Bingo

Nail it to the cross, of the intended loss, singling and wringing them out.

Lost

amid, the somber slayings of bombers praying, for fire to rain from the sky.

Rid

of the calmer makings of alarming sayings, for desire to feign from the cry.

Denied.

The reciprocation of a social spy, trying his best to comply to the prize, and smile.

Its been awhile.

Been a while in exile of thine own heart.

Heart of gold in denial.

Denial of the trials where i shone the brightest, in the mightiest miles of defiled lights.

Lights igniting the nights, in my first rights of passage.

Passage granted in the damaged dues of diligence, where i pursued the villages of my virtue.

My virtues perused the innocence and matured.

Matured in the final words of old birds, dying with dimes, and bagged wine in hand.

Never to understand the last laughs from young chaps blowing off their stacks, just to collapse, in their own mess.

I confess to paying homage in the calmly delusions, of my intrusive self abuses, to the ruthless seduction of my bitterly bitten bruises of seclusion.

I try to loosen up a bit, but instead run this gambit of bankrupt belligerence and hope for the best.

******* in the blessed wishes of the test.

Tested in the vetted nutrients of an institutional bowel movement upon my chest.

My chest giving in to the stress.

I often wake in duress as tears flow through the forgotten, as i brush my teeth of the remembrance of dreams, and clean the dumb away.

Clothe my flesh, and put my gun away.

Locking the front door, I journey into my day.

Every day...

One day.

One day from the mundane

I wont strain to change it all.

I will make the call

but never answer.

Instilling the hollowed cancers

to end it all

I shall befall,  the null.

The No.

The land.

enhanced.

Seeing.

The unseeable.

In unbelievable hate.

Conceiving the inconceivable, and cleaning the slate of my faithful fate, in which i ditch the mares of my dared intention.

I concentrate on the beautiful view from the deliberate limitlessness of my vivid visions to another place, that closely resembles the one that i hate.

Consumed of blue suns, and water breathing.

I bloom

in anger activated guns, and painless beatings.

Marooned from afar

I dare to bare the battle scars of taking it too far, and fainting.

Tainting the waters of life with the ****** knife, of my,  positivity.

The imagery of my imagined city

ssscattered across the tattered remains of my naivety.

Sssteadily holding fast upon the mass of men, even though i readily hate them.

In a single flash of rash decision, i forget it all, and go to work ...

smirking in the murky fog, that marks the facade,  where i lurk in shirtless shirking from the cold.

The shaking of the folds, in time, in space, in the told, telemetry of the mold

I'm

emboldened

In the boots that birth, the same old, hold of the complaint.

Applying force in restraint

In pursuit

to unearth, and loot

the saint

in broken wings, and painted words

that twirl, in the spinning ink

on the brink, of the blur, that births,  this sleeping male

to a world, encroached, by mundane flames, poached, from the slain trail of the ordained, tales of Mikha'el.

As others entrails line, the pale comparisons, as mine, are shell shocked in monotony.

i signed with the autonomy, never talked, and marched blankly into the day.

Every day

but one day

to stray

from the mundane

and make it right.

I will get out of my head

and fly

in light.

}I{
“Sinuhe”

King Khety is blinking madly
Haruspex has left him ominous oracle
Sinuhe is on his return, fugitive no more
Sinuhe brings with him enemy’s daughter
Not prize, Nefru his wife and Libyan lore
Sinuhe from slavery came, poet she did adore

Egyptian tombs do tell in detail
Hieroglyphic tales, this juncture of peril
Khety not King, but Sinuhe’s noble brother
Knows true King come to claim throne
Sinuhe the nobler, knows a life of none other
Than slave sold by Odious, the step-mother

Yes Queen Odious, deep in den of asps
Collected poison venom to undue her marriage
To Sinuhe’s father Merikare, Pharaoh of Moon
Odious’ ghastly act nearly tore Egypt in two
Her derangement sent Sinuhe far across sand dune
Odious took crown, added gilded teeth of baboon

Made her son King, though he did implore
Khety saw insanity and for what, he was in store
Khety remembers his Great Father’s words
“The heart of someone who listens to his temper
Is doomed to follow the stink of camel herds
Better to let heart fly upon sky, as do birds”

Yet by years tormented, Khety became undone
More like his mother and even more sniveling
Than the Odious one, so he did as he was told
Incessant dribbling marked a life for him
He minded his words lest he knew he’d be sold
Mother’s high priest Abhorus was bitter and cold

Sinuhe’s struggles were unknown to King Khety
Years of near starvation and wearisome labor
Made Sinuhe the better man, as he did never forget
Assurances of his noblest Father, Pharaoh Merikare
Virtue ascribed, Sinuhe kept valor in each trial met
Furthermore, his noblest task still to come as of yet



}II{
“Numidian Queen”

Nefru, Numidian Queen to Land of Libya
Recalls young slave Sinuhe’s hostility to captivity
His intelligence overcoming, who once would be King
Of Egypt had not violent arm but ferocious mind
Using wit to overcome adversity and words he did sing
To free his self of internment and all oddity it did bring

Nefru looks upon loyal husband Sinuhe
It is an arduous journey this man has taken
Her commitment be bound now by ivory ring
Loyalty to this man before all forsaken
It is spring, and amongst abundant life come dead things
Fledgling birds first flight failed or so siblings did fling

Now swept into his pilgrimage, Nefru perceives
All adversity Sinuhe did overcome so nobly
To her, he is chukar, partridge of rare plumage
It is to the ground, which this bird be bound
Never reaching sky, low brush be its’ *******
Though its’ song give to her heart an anlage

Freedom from slavery, is Sinuhe’s triumph
Vindication of crown be the mark of new flight
He prays to Horus Behudety, Winged Sun God
Nefru knows of her husband’s will and might
She gifts to him her father’s pinioned golden rod
Scepter of enslaver Mehru, and his feathered shod

It was not of great agreement by Mehru
Should his daughter Nefru marry a slave?
Much less to son of Merikare, an arch enemy
Yet he be so brave, impressions of Sinuhe’s strength
Be made so to change, very nature Sinuhe’s destiny
So much so, Mehru did lament in Merikare’s elegy

So it came to be, a slave marries Queen
Sinuhe and Nefru’s love broke all patterns
Such a love to win hearts of, Gods and Goddess’ unseen
Who rule other worlds and all rings of Saturn
History had never known affection so purely clean
Gatherings from far off fields came to witness such glean



}III{
“Haruspex And Detritus”

Haruspex, soothsayer speaks in half-truths
King Khety believes only small contingent
Be on way to Byblos, presently approaching Qedem
Little does he know, armies of Elephant in tow
Masses of feathered and golden archer’s stem
Blessed by breath of Bat, Goddess and her phlegm

Detritus, Animal Man, hired scout to King Khety
Possesses claws and hair of lion, his home Serengeti
Animal Man’s mane is thrashed in thorns and rubble
Smells of cat ***** but has nose that knows much
Such why Detritus be tolerated, though be much trouble
Haruspex twists tale of tailed man, speaks of him double

Calls him lazy, shiftless, yet Haruspex be cryptic mess
Detritus be banal yes, but true to Khety none the less
Knew his father well, Merikare be his master
It was always Queen Odious, Detritus distrusted
Knowing her demonic betrayal and Egypt’s disaster
She kept him in gypsum cave, scratching alabaster

Kindness had left this Kingdom sometime ago
When Odious and Abhorus overthrew rule
Merikare Moon Pharaoh mummy cry from tomb
Sinuhe ripped from his side by Abhorus
His funeral a very mockery and Detritus’ doom
Haruspex made way from Libya, eyes mucous rheum

Planted by Mehru, Haruspex be sent through desert
King of Libya be wise, sent this oracle as disguise
Not soothsayer at all but spy of opposition
King Mehru knew upon Moon Pharaoh’s death
Peace upon land would not soon come to position
Quickly he sent Haruspex, strangest magician

Detritus knew by the first smell of him
Haruspex came from earth west, not with best
Intentions to natural order of land and sky
And this test of two egos be quite perplexed
With each other and another reason why
This brawny epic riled through years gone by



}IV{
“Ode ‘O’ Odious”

Motioning her battalions, priests and beasts
Evil Queen who overthrow, joins Abhorus’ feast
Beldams be this clergy, **** all about Odious
Snapping of rabbits heads in cacophony of blood
Plunking chalices of malice’s, sacrifices melodious
All in dark chamber halls in depth’s commodious

Stretching of intestine to fine tune harp
Butchers waylay innards with daggers sharp
Mawkish music be Odious’ fame
Concavity’s entrance a perilous scarp
Passers-by enticed by bergamot oil’s flame
Fall to their death to be eaten by dame

Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
Drunken mayhap through day and nightcap
She rumpus muck, she ruckus all luck
Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
Chambers fill with all matter of bile guck
Bites cobra tails, hooded heads protrude to ****

Death be her power to innocence’s pain
Queen Odious oblivious to her own danger
Seems unstoppable to submissive subjugates
Spinning her terror, cackle calls to maidens
Fem ferocious, how ‘O’ Odious undulates
Casualties collected in long hundredweights

Probity of her high priest be none
Abhorus puppets Odious and will be done
With her second rare blue water lilies run out
The Nile produces this flower of intoxication
Extinction of it is of all certainty, no doubt
Named after her, O Odious flora beguiles lout

Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
It is Evil Sorceress and midnight blue flower
Power of it be all in her high flighty head
She misuses its’ tincture to her own final hour
Harvesting it foolishly, nearly till it is dead
And when it is, it will be to all worlds’ dread



}V{
“Oasis In Iaa”

Sinuhe receives word elephants parched
Water need be found, arduous trek campaigned
Nefru never witness such worry, Sinuhe’s face
Ox tail be split to drain nourishment from beasts
No water for miles, no sea birds upon sky to trace
Sinuhe prays, “Montu, God of War find oasis to race!”

Sekhmet, Archer Goddess visits Nefru
Great Lady is besieged by dessert’s spell
Hallucinations bring mirage to Nefru’s sight
Transfixed on dessert’s horizon her eyes
Contingents warriors, bands of archer’s fright
Paths set forth, only to journey by starlit night

At dawn Sinuhe strands his band
Takes his most devoted men of arms
Bhaktu, Parsi, Rhaktu, follow their Lord
Each having faith in man and his wisdom
Eastward they find Syrian tribe in horde
They are welcomed, none need draw sword

Master of Syrian tribe Abu Sefa
Understands who Sinuhe is and was
Orders falconers to find Nefru and throng
Apprises Sinuhe of oasis beyond hummocks
All are soon joined together in wine and song
Oasis found, Iaa, fruited land and lagoon long

Khety is warned of revelry in Iaa
Sends legions Egyptian arms, by order Odious
Anubis, jackal head God given zebra sacrifice
Detritus employed for battle with spears
Copper shields, mediocrity will not suffice
All swords be sharpened by order thrice

Lifeblood battle of Egypt ensues
Sinuhe taken off guard in Iaa,
Elephant screams to be heard for miles
Bhaktu cut down, Rhaktu not found
Parsi’s archers never saw such trials
From lagoons come seething crocodiles



}VI{
Twist Of Fate

Rensi was chosen by Abhorus to speak for Khety
As High Priest, Abhorus did most doling of employs
This proxy Rensi though, be mockery of King
His speech more stammered than Khety’s noise
Grossly disfigured as well, soundings as mice sing
Rensi aware of this, musters all dignity he may bring

Perigee moon at present, o howling now
Hyena laughing at dissertation of Khety’s proxy
Ill ease overcomes this Rensi, an impediment
Speech undone on terrestrial stairs to Memphis
Escalades flora, fauna; monsoons washing sediment
Tefnut, great rain goddess turns world to excrement

This not so illustrious disquisition muted
By torrent winds and torrential liquid compounds
Tefnut’s tears plunk upon all, turning mud blood
Looking out from his great house Khety embroiled
Bares soul to Sobek-Re, Crocodile God; Sun and Crud
Sobek-Re answers prayer, suspending flash flood

In Iaa, as gore of battle ensues, fate lose
As twist of tale find new bemuse and worlds infuse
Detritus sees his lost master Sinuhe encroaching peril
This recognition swells an emotion deep and confuse
Detritus bent in memories flash reacts nobly not feral
With a roar to be heard over all, clamor become sterile

Sounds of battle cease and gaze of majesty
Sinuhe seeing Detritus is overcome by sensibility
Two old beloved friends stare upon each other
Dragging swords behind each move to indemnity
Embrace of each other; secures allegiance another
Sinuhe kisses feet of Detritus; calls him “brother”

As witness to such, all weary legions unite
Moon turn blue, assured sign of Pharaoh Merikare
Mehru’s star battalions federate Moon Pharaoh’s armies
Together as one to Memphis they shall siege Khety
Overthrow Queen Odious and her sinister parties
This mainly being High Priest Abhorus’ autocracies



}VII{
Epitaph Of Detritus

Odious in lair drinks tinctures blue water lilies
Abhorus her advisor suggests only more intoxicants
Khety is shrilling at sight of this deceptive lure
Haruspex makes prophesy of Detritus’ betrayal
Khety sends hunters to trace Animal Man’s spoor
Abhorus finds more legions of archers to procure

Leaving Iaa and moving toward Memphis
Detritus is fitted by Nefru’s maidens new armor
Embroidered with gold, a striped khat is made to adorn
Detritus is humbled by Sinuhe and Nefru’s gifts
His body is perfumed and oiled; his mane then shorn
Beholden to the true King of Egypt, Detritus is sworn

Two men of different lands, both once slaves
Overcome their adversities and rise upon sun
Sinuhe and Detritus’ bond is legitimately noble
Wearing of these worlds bare them new providence
Seemingly this union appears fortuitous global
Keeping steadfast of Abhorus’s archers now mobile

In Sakkara, south of Memphis come tempest
Raining arrows as if raindrops, Sinuhe’s challenge
Detritus’ valor finds reckoning to his last will
Defending Sinuhe, Detritus falls to cumulating
By strength this virtue witnessed, Sinuhe rise still
Throwing down legions of archers, making his ****

Abhorus, Odious, and Khety with no troops left
Surrender to Sinuhe upon his return to Memphis
Odious drinks last vials blue lily tincture, expires
Abhorus struck dead by hand of Khety in resolve
Khety bows to Sinuhe and his Queen as requires
King Sinuhe , Queen Nefru read parchments and fliers

In honor of great Detritus and his noble deeds
Commissioned is greatest sculpture Animal Man
During its’ long construction, most joyful jinks
Song and dance to honor a great warrior true
Each artisan so proud to have heritage to links
Of Animal Man, Detritus, now known as Sphinx

"Master Of The House"

My band of soaks, my den of dissolute's
My ***** jokes, my always ****** as newts
My sons of ****** spend their lives in my inn,
Homing pigeons homing in
They fly through my doors,
And they crawl out on all fours

Welcome, Monsieur, sit yourself down
And meet the best innkeeper in town
As for the rest, all of 'em crooks:
Rooking their guests and crooking the books
Seldom do you see
Honest men like me
A gent of good intent
Who's content to be

Master of the house, doling out the charm
Ready with a handshake and an open palm
Tells a saucy tale, makes a little stir
Customers appreciate a bon-viveur
Glad to do a friend a favor
Doesn't cost me to be nice
But nothing gets you nothing
Everything has got a little price!

Master of the house, keeper of the zoo
Ready to relieve 'em of a sou or two
Watering the wine, making up the weight
Pickin' up their knick-knacks when they can't see straight
Everybody loves a landlord
Everybody's ***** friend
I do whatever pleases
Jesus! Won't I bleed 'em in the end!

Master of the house, quick to catch yer eye
Never wants a passerby to pass him by
Servant to the poor, butler to the great
Comforter, philosopher, and lifelong mate!
Everybody's boon companion
Everybody's chaperone
But lock up your valises
Jesus! Won't I skin you to the bone!

Food beyond compare. Food beyond belief
Mix it in a mincer and pretend it's beef
Kidney of a horse, liver of a cat
Filling up the sausages with this and that
Residents are more than welcome
Bridal suite is occupied
Reasonable charges
Plus some little extras on the side!
(Oh Santa!)

Charge 'em for the lice, extra for the mice
Two percent for looking in the mirror twice
Here a little slice, there a little cut
Three percent for sleeping with the window shut
When it comes to fixing prices
There are a lot of tricks I knows
How it all increases, all them bits and pieces
Jesus! It's amazing how it grows!

(Oh, sorry love
Let's get something done about that)
I used to dream that I would meet a prince
But God Almighty, have you seen what's happened since?

Master of the house? Isn't worth my spit!
Comforter, philosopher' and lifelong ****!
Cunning little brain, regular Voltaire
Thinks he's quite a lover but there's not much there
What a cruel trick of nature landed me with such a louse
God knows how I've lasted living with this ******* in the house!

Master of the house!
Master and a half!
Comforter, philosopher
Don't make me laugh!
Servant to the poor, butler to the great
Hypocrite and toady and inebriate!

Everybody bless the landlord!
Everybody bless his spouse!

Everybody raise a glass
Raise it up the master's ****
Everybody raise a glass to the Master of the House!


Writer(s): Jean Marc Natel, Herbert Kretzmer, Claude Michel Schonberg, Alain Albert Boublil
Copyright: Productions Bagad, Alain Boublil Music Ltd., Boublil Alain Editions



Gomer LePoet ....

Exhortation:
Greetings,
Let no one hesitate to study philosophy while young, and let no one tire of it when old, for it is never too soon nor too late to devote oneself to the well-being of the soul.  Whoever says that the time for philosophy has not yet come or that it has already passed is saying that it is too soon or too late for happiness. Therefore both the young and the old should study philosophy so that, while old, one may still be young with all the joy he has gathered from the past; and while young, one may at the same time be old through fearlessness of the future.
We must practice what produces happiness because when we have it, we have everything, and if we lack it, we shall be doing everything necessary to regain it.  So I encourage you, as always, to study and practice my teachings, for they are the basic ingredients of a happy life.

Don’t Fear the Gods
A god is an immortal and happy being. This is well-known, but do not believe anything about divine nature other than what is congenial for an eternally happy existence.  The gods do exist because we have preconceived notions of them, but they are not like how most people describe them.  Most people embellish their notions of the gods with false beliefs.  They credit the gods for delivering rewards and punishments because they commend those who share their own ways and condemn those who do not.  Rejecting the popular myths does not make one impious; preaching them is what demonstrates impiety.

Don’t Fear Death
Death is no concern to us.  All things good and bad are experienced through sensation, but sensation ceases at death.  So death is nothing to us, and to know this makes a mortal life happy.  Life is not improved by adding infinite time; removing the desire for immortality is what’s required.  There is no reason why one who is convinced that there is nothing to fear at death should fear anything about it during life.  And whoever says that he dreads death not because it’s painful to experience, but only because it’s painful to contemplate, is foolish.  It is pointless to agonize over something that brings no trouble when it arrives.  So death, the most dreaded of evils, is nothing to us, because when we exist, death is not present, and when death is present, we do not exist.   It neither concerns the living nor the dead, since death does not exist for the living, and the dead no longer exist.

Most people, however, either dread death as the greatest of suffering or long for it as a relief from suffering.  One who is wise neither renounces life nor fears not living.  Life does not offend him, nor does he suppose that not living is any kind of suffering.  For just as he would not choose the greatest amount of food over what is most delicious, so too he does not seek the longest possible life, but rather the happiest.  And he who advises the young man to live well and the old man to die well is also foolish – not only because it’s desirable to live, but because the art of living well and the art of dying well are the same.  And he was still more wrong who said it would be better to have never been born, but that “Once born, be quick to pass through the gates of Hades!” {Theognis, 425 - 427} If he was being serious, why wasn’t he himself quick to end his life? Certainly the means were available if this was what he really wanted to do.  But if he was not serious, then we have even less reason to believe him. Future days are neither wholly ours, nor wholly not ours.  We must neither depend on them as sure to come nor despair that we won’t live to see them.

Master your desires
Among desires, some are natural and some are vain.  Of those that are natural, some are necessary and some unnecessary.  Of those that are necessary, some are necessary for happiness, some for health, and some for life itself.  A clear recognition of desires enables one to base every choice and avoidance upon whether it secures or upsets ****** comfort and peace of mind – the goal of a happy life.

Everything we do is for the sake of freedom from pain and anxiety.   Once this is achieved, the storms in the soul are stilled.  Nothing else and nothing more are needed to perfect the well-being of the body and soul.  It is when we feel pain that we must seek relief, which is pleasure.  And when we no longer feel pain, we have all the pleasure we need.

Pleasure, we declare, is the beginning and end of the happy life.  We are endowed by nature to recognize pleasure as the greatest good.  Every choice and avoidance we make is guided by pleasure as our standard for judging the goodness of everything.

Although pleasure is the greatest good, not every pleasure is worth choosing.  We may instead avoid certain pleasures when, by doing so, we avoid greater pains.  We may also choose to accept pain if, by doing so, it results in greater pleasure.  So while every pleasure is naturally good, not every pleasure should be chosen.  Likewise, every pain is naturally evil, but not every pain is to be avoided.  Only upon considering all consequences should we decide.  Thus, sometimes we might regard the good as evil, and conversely: the evil as good.

We regard self-sufficiency as a great virtue – not so that we may only enjoy a few things, but so that we may be satisfied with a few things if those are all we have.  We are firmly convinced that those who least yearn for luxury enjoy it most, and that while natural desires are easily fulfilled, vain desires are insatiable.  Plain meals offer the same pleasure as luxurious fare, so long as the pain of hunger is removed.  Bread and water offer the greatest pleasure for those in need of them.  Accustoming oneself to a simple lifestyle is healthy and it doesn’t sap our motivation to perform the necessary tasks of life.  Doing without luxuries for long intervals allows us to better appreciate them and keeps us fearless against changes of fortune.

When we say that pleasure is the goal, we do not mean the pleasure of debauchery or sensuality.  Despite whatever may be said by those who misunderstand, disagree with, or deliberately slander our teachings, the goal we do seek is this: freedom from pain in the body and freedom from turmoil in the soul.  For it is not continuous drinking and revelry, the ****** enjoyment of women and boys, or feasting upon fish and fancy cuisine which result in a happy life.  Sober reasoning is what is needed, which decides every choice and avoidance and liberates us from the false beliefs which are the greatest source of anxiety.

Live Wisely
The greatest virtue and the basis for all virtues is prudence.  Prudence, the art of practical wisdom, is something even more valuable than philosophy, because all other virtues spring from it.  It teaches us that it is not possible to live pleasurably unless one also lives prudently, honorably, and justly; nor is it possible to live prudently, honestly, and justly without living pleasurably.  For the virtues are inseparable from a happy life, and living happily is inseparable from the virtues.

Who could conceivably be better off than one who is wise?  No one could be more content than one who simply reveres the gods, who is utterly unafraid of death, and who has discovered the natural goal of life.  He understands that pleasure, the greatest good, is easily supplied to absolute fullness, while pain, the greatest evil, lasts only a moment when intense and is easily tolerated when prolonged.

Some believe that everything is ruled by  *fate,  but we should dismiss this.   One who is wise knows that the greater power of decision lies within oneself.  He understands that while some things are indeed caused by fate, other things happen by chance or by choice.  He sees that fate is irreproachable and chance unreliable, but choices deserve either praise or blame because what is decided by choice is not subject to any external power.  One would be better off believing in the myths about the gods than to be enslaved by the determinism proclaimed by certain physicists.  At least the myths offer hope of winning divine favors through prayer, but fate can never be appealed.

Some believe that  chance  is a god, but we should dismiss this also.  One who is wise knows the gods do not act randomly.  He does not believe that everything is randomly caused.  Nor does he believe, in cases when they are, that chance is doling out good and evil with the intent of making human lives happy or unhappy.  He would actually prefer to suffer setbacks while acting wisely than to have miraculous luck while acting foolishly; for it would be better that well-planned actions should perchance fail than ill-planned actions should perchance succeed.

Conclusion:
Practice these teachings daily and nightly. Study them on your own or in the company of a like-minded friend, and you shall not be disturbed while awake or asleep. You shall live like a god among men, because one whose life is fortified by immortal blessings in no way resembles a mortal being.

I'm known for navel-gazing my way to elation,
and am living in a country caught within
the grips of frenzied matriculation.

My insidiously
malapert generation,
my incessantly
malcontent gene-nation.

This is a Garden of Eden,
Where is our guard of Eden?
carefully removing
all who are not heathen.

Plucking the clouded excess from an already crowded bed of hegemony, as a gardener would and so should.

It is a mirage, a far off oasis of Arcadia and
I say this all unconcernedly, a basis for this absurdity.

I have stolen my ego from god,
I will carry this yoke readily,
and I shall take up my axe doling out mechanically.

What can the spawns of Ahriman say, that hasn't been said before
What can  Angra Mainyu linage do that hasn't been done
Children of Jahi the ***** fathered by The Opposer himself
When the Ghost of ghosts spawned his offsprings in Hades
Did he not promise them the world and declared it his
Did he not remove the dusts of damnation from them
And send them down to continue his dominion of fire

Once the second exalted but twisted from his arrogance
He faced down the Omnipotent Light and sought to usurp
From thence on banished in eternal shame he remains
The Ghost of Ghosts spawning his demons and ghouls
The pretenders without light or hues washed in satyr's milk
Disciples of extraction of the purity of the sinless inoncents

Henceforth they seek ******* over the joys of Creation
Killers that **** with all deeds and actions the Glories of Light
Ghosts who opened Pandora before Pandora came alive
Who plundered and ravaged as their master solely intended
To destroy all the Magnificence of the Omnipotent Creator
Who stands unequalled Pure and Mighty in His Golden Realm

Ghost of ghosts fights on earth with his spawns multiplying
Master of wickedness doling out false knowledge to ghosts
Covering them with false beauty and riches in ****** minds
Take your poisoned rewards and destroy to live like kings
For I make you children of destruction and ghosts without souls
Soon you will all come and burn forever in undying molten fire

pour scorn upon my being
of its acid of wrath I'll take

measure by measure
repeat the dose
quadruple it if you will

the **** hath been flayed
with a whipping of disapproval
before

of disdain's cane
I'll be happy to bear
so keep on doling out
the contempt with all its flair

Joe was a teenager unhappy with his bed,
For it creaked a lot whenever he moved.

He asked his parents to get it fixed,
But they told him to grow up & earn.

Soon his parents were both dead,
In an accident, in a ****** one.

Though he escaped from the accident,
Poor Joe was traumatised unfathomably.

His parents had a great accidental insurance,
And they were so sincere in doling out the claim.

Cremated them in the electric crematorium,
He was left with a million dollars and an urn.

He had a girlfriend, Jonita, very beautiful,
She was very active in life and in the bed.

Tiaan-tiaan, karr-karr, chian-chian,
Creeaak-creeaak, creeaak-creeaak.

Helped him move beyond the sordid memories,
She helped him soothe himself with the love.

The bed used to screech whenever they played,
They jumped on the bed, and they danced.

Rhythmically their dance lasted for 7 minutes,
Sometimes they played for multiple sessions.

Jonita one day told Joe to be serious,
For life's not just about love and ***.

Sure, Joe had a million dollars,
But that was what he inherited.

Now Joe must be serious and get a job,
For the inheritance & insurance are limited.

Jonita negatively motivated him,
Challenging Joe to earn something.

Joe promised to start earning,
But asked Jonita to marry him.

She consented, and they got married,
Kept the ceremony very much private.

Just the two of them, and two witnesses,
In that morbid-looking court house.

'That money is limited,' realised Joe,
Prepared to get employed with the Force.

He grew up and hustled harder in the fray,
And achieved getting enlisted in the Force.

Jonita was already happy, now she was proud,
Her stallion now wore the royal blue plumes.

"You're my centaur," she used to say happily,
Whenever he'd dress up for reporting at work.

Truly he was a centaur for her, and for the Force too,
Guiding his jet through the angelic skies.

'Life is good,' so thought Joe,
He trusted his every bro.

His friends assured him of his wife's safety,
Of her safety, Joseph indeed want a surety.

Joe went away for a war, call of duty, you know,
But before he went, he had a battle in the bed.

A ferocious one, with blaring metal in the background,
He drilled Jonita deep until they both bled.

There were scars on Joe's back,
As if a cat scratched him bad.

Even Jonita had hickeys and bite marks,
As if a bunny had nipped her *******.

Her shoulders bore witness to love,
And to ******* of that dove.

The news spoke of a war that broke out,
And Joe received the deployment orders.

Now, soon he went away for the war,
He missed her during the month away.

The bed's creaking he missed the most,
The centaur avoided stroking his bird.

He focused on the war, and the battle plan,
Also, he wanted to save some memories to share.

He shot, he fired, and dropped some bombs,
Killed many soldiers, maimed some others.

He also downed many enemy fighter jets,
Evaded enemy fire, engaged them in dogfights.

Amongst all the targets he hit,
The enemy soldiers were decimated.

And they won the war sooner than expected.

He shifted his focus from the war to the lover,
But he planned something more.

Joseph wanted to surprise Jonita,
So he didn't let her know he was coming home.

When he arrived back,
He wanted to read her eyes.

So, he used his set of keys.

'Pleasant surprise' he expected,
But he heard the bed creaking.

The same way it did when they made love,
The same way it did when she rided his lightning.

He loaded his gun.

Nervous, he climbed up, expecting the unspeakable,
But peered inside the bedroom to find her alone.

Sure, she was naked,
But not with anyone else.

She was gyrating to his memories,
There was his name in her whispers.

And all this while,
Her eyes were closed.

Gyrating and vibrating,
Cupping her pillows.

It was her own hands,
Not anybody else's.

He unloaded the gun.

Joe was lucky,
He had Jonita.

(Thy lovely lasses unwittingly
unstintingly unexpectedly
taught me selflessness)

Every Holiday time each year,
a rocketing increase asper
doling out Uriah Heap ping
largesse imposed upon each
citizen banker (coerced, forced,
induced to buy baubles,
bibelot, curios, et cetera striving
to outspend a competing
shopper, which faux grand
handedness, and crass exhibition

generating mega sales (as Tale
of Two Cities, or more)
earns management stripes viz
embracing the Christmas spirit
(via blithely deftly, frenziedly,
et cetera) per avidly boasting,
coarsely displaying, eagerly
flaunting, et cetera prices paid

for the latest curiosity, doodad,
gewgaws (whereby un
avoidable advertisements), flood
mass communication airways,
causeways, driveways, et cetera
to plug reduced priceline sans
gaud dee, knickknacks, gimcracks,
encompass companies blitzkrieg
for those, who disparage being
labeled Scrooge plunk down
every red cent, and empty
their pockets, purses, wallets

to snag the title of topnotch spender
no matter no need exists to ******
every last kickshaw, novelty ornamental
tchotchkes, (which modus operandi,
(visited upon the populace, a tidal wave
vis a vis figurative manifestation,
laceration, inundation, whereby tenet,
maxim, credo, et cetera broadcast
to general public amply expending
page number two:

fistfuls of dollars fulfilling
Great Expectations
(for family, friends, relatives)
buy giving liberally,

via unspoken mandate, and
thence subsequently, when receiving
presents galore, tis incumbent to craft
sincere polite thank you note
(written in calligraphy if possibly)
to evince real or feigned gratitude
despite The Battle of Life travails
and, whenever possibly necessarily
over spending monetary reserves
setting stage for Bleak House
after festivities subside,

whence welcoming return to employ
ment to garner green legal tender
to stave off Hard Times glad to
cease hearing annoying renditions
qua A Christmas Carol, and visiting
countless theaters enduring
legions of young actors and or
actresses portray the saga of Oliver Twist
a disadvantaged indigent boy
(given up by his mum),

and grudgingly accepted in an
Almshouse, where his early existence
mirrored unfair cruelty, whereat
Master of the deprived ladelled
thin gruel only one ration, a worse
perdition than death, this measly diet
lacked minimal nutrition, The Battle of Life.

This American Notes a disproportionate
concentration to reach out to those less fortunate
particularly Thanksgiving and Xmas
which effort laudable, yet a diminution
for succor such as: triumph over adversity
sustenance, accommodations seems
to muffle The Chimes remaining
three hundred and some odd or even days.