There's a comfort in being a doubter,
To be swayed by passionate conviction
As well as logical cognition,
If nothing can be proven then how can that be confirmed?
I am a doubter
I live in dim-lit twilight of faith unknown,
I doubt the doubter and all of faith
Is doubt not too a faith to move nations?
I am a doubter, an undecided,
Hopeful, hateful, shameful, trustless
Devoid, lacking any certainty
Don't doubt me! I'm not weak, not mean,
Not judgmental or hypocritical,
Just so uncertain and conflicted—
How can anyone believe
In anything, at all?

(***** I'm dreaming2),..***** I'm believing,.. I'm chasing hope & faith mane..I'm chasing my dreams, ***** I'm believing, I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations2)..***** I'm believing,***** I'm dreaming (Yeah2)..(***** I'm dreaming2)
Dreaming..***** I'm believing, ***** I'm dreaming.. Dreaming..I'm (having hope & faith2)..***** I'm believing.., (I'm having hope & faith2)..***** I'm dreaming, ***** I'm believing, (I'm having hope & faith2)..Yeah..(***** I'm dreaming2)..***** I'm believing, Im (dreaming2)..I'm chasing hope mane,..(I'm chasing my goals & aspirations2)//***** I'm dreaming, ***** I'm believing, I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations2)..Aye..(I'm dreaming3)..dreaming, ***** I'm believing , I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations3)..(***** I'm dreaming, my ***** I'm believing2)..(I'm chasing hope & faith 2)..mane,

I ain't chasing after fame, I ain't chasing none of these hos either,..(***** I'm dreaming2)..***** I'm believing,..I'm dreaming, I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations3)..*****, I'm believing, ***** I'm dreaming, ***** (I'm believing2)..(Im dreaming3)..dreaming..,aye..I'm chasing, (my goals & aspirations3)..
Goals & Aspirations.. Aye

That's what I'm chasing after like a hungry cheetah, I never been a cheater, ***** Imma believer, a true believer, a King Yeah..Aye, I'm chasing my goals & aspirations, &( I'm speeding2) like,**** the laws I'm going past the speed limit, **** a stop sign, no braking, I'm in drive *****, Its so hard being patient, but I'm tryna be Aye, no time waiting  , no time waisting, none of my days  being wasted..Im so wavey..Aye, Yeah I'm getting so faded, so wasted, Lord please forgive me even , tho I smoke alot of **** on a regular basis, that's (my medication2)..& I need it, it helps me from going (crazy2)..,I ain't never had **** partner, I come from nothing, I ain't had alot of money at a point of time in my life , I was so broke my *****, all I ever had was my goals , dreams, & aspirations, Yeah I was dreaming, & believing, I was chasing after hope & faith.., not after no females mane,Aye..
Nobody can't tell me nothing paparazzi better stay away from my face, aye I ain't on that Kanye West **** I ain't selling my soul for a happy meal *****, In happy all ready, God owns me, So I'm investing in my own worth homie, Yeah..I'm building my on corporation..Aye man..

(***** I'm dreaming2),..***** I'm believing,.. I'm chasing hope & faith mane..I'm chasing my dreams, ***** I'm believing, I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations2)..***** I'm believing,***** I'm dreaming (Yeah2)..(***** I'm dreaming2)
Dreaming..
I ain't chasing after fame, I ain't chasing none of these hos either,..(***** I'm dreaming2)..***** I'm believing,..I'm dreaming, I'm chasing (my goals & aspirations3)..*****
Uhh,Yeah

/This is (only for the Real3)..if you don't know well then now you know *****/3,..
Aye, if you don't know *****, then pull a chair up & listen, Turn this **** up & listen, Blaze one up, (& listen2), pay attention..This is (Only For The Real2)..Aye
I'm teaching ****** lessons like a teacher *****, I didn't have to go to college to teach *****, but that doesn't mean I can't teach you *****, I was blessed wit this gift from God, thank you so much Heavenly Father, thank you so much Jesus Christ, Ayo we all can learn something from each other, we all sisters & brothers word, Uhh..
Let's come together, let's stand up to this curropted government system, rise up & destroy them..Uhh, Aye I usta be all alone man, so lonely stuck in my room writing hits all day, I been a big factor my *****, man I always been the man, Yeah..Uhh, I ain't conceited either my *****, I'm just saying I'm confident,.. (Yeah *****2)..
I just been (chasing my dreams & aspirations2)..I write (masterpieces2) Pablo Picasso type of ****, if you don't know well now you know this is (Only For The Real2)..Aye,..

/Im chasing my goals & aspirations2..(my goals & aspirations2)/2

(Aye, we all on3..)..now..we all on..now
(Aye, we all on3..)..now..we all on..now

/Aye it doesn't matter what anybody gotta say about ya, forget a doubter let them hate man, if you dream it see it in yo mind, & believe it, then you can achieve it/2
**** right..my *****
if you dream it see it in yo mind, & believe it, then you can achieve it..for real dawg..Ayr


You can become anything that you want my ***** for real dawg, gotta push yo self, uplift yo self if nobody else will, chase after hope & faith, chase (your goals *2), chase (your dreams2) & your aspirations, don't ever stop *****, Cuhz, (anything you put your mind too you can achieve it,2) Yeah mane, you can..Uhh

/***** I'm dreaming, I'm chasing hope & faith, I'm chasing my goals & aspirations/3
(Goals & aspirations*3)..aye

(Smoking on that drill2)..., Yeah (***** that ****2)..(Smoking on that drill3)..Yeah..(***** that ****2)..I stay smoking on (that ****2)..Yeah..I stay smoking on (that drill2)..Aye *****..(that ****2)..(Aye Im smoking on that drill3)..Yeah ***** (that ****3)..Uhh..

I ain't popping no pills , I ain't snorting nothing man, I ain't injecting myself, Im just rolling no mollies, I stay smoking on that drill, Yeah I stay smoking on (that ****3)..*****.. I'm getting straight to the business my *****, what's the deal, Uhh,Yeah, what's the deal with all of these buster ***** *** made fakes that's in the rap game mane, yall giving them **** ****** praises , that ain't Gods, they Satan peasants, Uhh..
I only give praises to the Heavenly Father & Jesus Christ , you should too, homie, I'm just giving out good advice, don't Idolize  me my *****, I'm not a God, even thou I'm fly, even tho I ryhme so nice, dude you can be fly too, you gotta have confidence within you, look up to yourself my *****, you gotta encourage yourself, when nobody else isn't..

Uhh, Aye I stay smoking on that drill, Yeah I stay smoking on (that ****3)..So what man, Yeah mane,I'm smoking on that drill..(it helps me2)..be a better me, it medicates all my pain , it helps me meditate all of my depression away..So why the freak they got it illegalized for mane..Aye
The government is so evil homie, they the Occult , they so Satanic mane..The government been tryna destroy my reputation.. I know they after me,Yeah mane..They after me homie, wanna take my life away, Yeah they wanna put me 6 feet under with a closed casket service, mane, because all I rymhe about is the truth homie, Aye I ain't running ..noo..I won't stop tho, no I won't dawg, if death do comes then, Imma fight death all the way back where it camed from, They can throw me how much money they want to, but I won't take it,noo My soul is worth more than gold, All I need is Jesus, he saved you & me from ever being defeated, so he's the only Idol to me man..Aye..

(I stay smoking on that drill Yeah2)..(I stay smoking on that ****,Yeah2)..(smoking on that drill2)..***** Yeah (that ****3)..(Uhh2)..(Yeah2)..my ***** this ain't no gangster music & I ain't no gangster Imma King Imma real ***** & , Imma Rebel too mane,..Ayo, I bet I could rap some **** that every hood ***** will blast & feel tho homie..Aye..I ain't no **** either, but I'm thugging against America..**** em Uhh..
I'm so g, my *****, I'm me Yeah ***** , I'm who I always wanted to be my *****..so **** what a doubter & a hater gone think about this one...because

(***** I rise3)..(***** I strive3)..Yeah *****.. (I rise2)..(***** I strive2)..(***** I ride2)..for OFTR only & my ***** (thats Fo life3)..Yeah..(***** I rise3)..(***** I strive3)..***** I rise..(***** I fly2)..(***** I rise2)..(***** I strive2)..***** I rise ***** I fly Aye..
(Smoking on that drill2)..Yeah (***** that ****2)..Yeah *****..I stay smoking on that ****, Yeah I stay smoking on that ****..***** I'm (smoking on that drill3)..(***** that ****2)..
Aye *****..

/(I strive *2)..(I rise2)..(I fly2)../3
Smoking on that drill,..
(Yeah ***** that ****..that ****..Uhh*3)

Is it wrong to admit that there are moments when I doubt God?
Is it wrong to admit that there are moments when I doubt heaven exists?
Is it wrong to admit that maybe all of this is just made up
And my entire life and the foundation that I stand upon is a fraud?
To be honest,
I think not.
I think it's okay to doubt.
I think it's okay to think twice.
I think it's perfectly healthy to take what I heard and break it down in my head.  
I am a human being.
Flawed to the core of my very soul.

But it is in these moments when I remember,
Faith, the size of a mustard seed,
Can move mountains.

So these moments of doubt do not matter,
As long as I hold onto this seed.
This seed.
This seed of faith.

(Yo3)..let's go..Ohh stunning
(I'm stunning4)..Aye, Yeah..(stunning2)..
(I'm stunning5)..stunning..Yeah ..stunning..
..(I'm stunning2) when they said I wouldn't, stunning.. (I'm stunning2)..stunning..(I'm stunning2)..when they thought I couldn't..I'm stunning..Yeah stunning..
(I'm stunning4)..when they thought I wouldn't..(I'm stunning..3)Yeah stunning.. (I'm stunning4)..when they said I couldn't..
/(I'm stunning3)..Yeah stunning/2
(Stunt3)..forget a doubter, get yo money, Yeah dawg,..(stunt2)..on them ***** made busters..(stunt2)..prove em all wrong..Uhh Yeah dawg

OFTR my ***** we camed from the bottom, now we here stunning no Drizzy Drake ****, I write my own lyrics, Yeah man, its so easy homie,Uhh,Yeah  I can write a song up real quick in under 5 minutes my nig, so if you need a verse , hit me up then dawg, I know you see it, Yeah I know they can see me now,..Aye
They doubting while I'm  believing, & cheifing, they so blinded by all of the **** ****, they so confused mane Ayo  forget going the ***** made way towards the fame, Imma boss player Imma real gangsta, Imma Outlaw Yeah Imma true player..so forget ******* up to Satan
Cuhz I only worship Jesus,Yeah mane, all of my prayers goes to the Heavenly Father & that's it Yeah..
(I'm stunning2)...the right way without bowing down to the white man..Aye

Yeah (I'm stunning2)..I'm..(shinning2)
brighter than a new pair of white forces,Yeah.. I'm stunning Im shinning brighter than a diamond (Yeah2)..mane
So what, they gotta say about me now homie ****,they can't say...(nothing2)..Aye, I'm stunning, I'm shinning brighter than the streets lights at night, man yo..
These ***** *** artist should be sponsor by Little Debbie, they some sweet ***** ******, all in they feelings, they ain't even from these streets my *****, they false claiming.. They all bout to get (bang2)..mane for real, Aye..

Noo, they can't see me, I be hurting they eyes, that's how bright..(I shine2)..Aye, I prove them all wrong my *****, I had no job, I usta to be posted up at my home *****, I stayed in my room *****, in my zone *****, I felt so all alone *****, I only had my family but Thank God for them, they taught me not to trust having friends homie, because friendships never last, its alot of snakes out here yeah, so watch out, keep yo eyes peeled man..Yeah..

Forget having a girlfriend to my *****, Noo, I don't got alot of time here to be spending my time waisting it wit a nasty *****..Uhh man just keep sending me more beats & Imma eat em up then **** hits out mane, Young Ston..***** Yeah I'm stunning on them..man I'm demanding my respect, Aye I'm way stronger than Superman, I go so hard , Yeah I'm the man, I go in , no I can't quit, Yeah..(I'm that *****2)..that you don't ever wanna disrespect, Aye stank ******* stay the hell away from my face, aye don't be all in my space in my way, Yeah..*****, Aye..
If you ever had something bad to say about me, you'll gonna be sorry, Yeah I bet you will you regret it, Yeah *****..(I'm stunning2)..for the little kids that ain't ever had nothing..

Aye, look up to me young *****, stop crying & stop pouting pick yo head up stop looking down man, keep running towards the end of the race, even when you are in last mane, keep pushing forward lil homie, don't give up, don't give in..just keep moving.. (Yeah2)..life  is a big test so if you just put forth in a little effort into succeding it in well in the end dawg, yeah when the end comes man you will win & its all gonna get better, Yeah..
So stay strong younging..Uhh, Young Ston yeah Imma 90s baby, but I spit ether tho homie, ain't no competing wit my lyrics *****..Aye Yeah you can compare me to Moses yeah I write scriptures, yeah I speak what the people need man, for real Yeah..



Ohh stunning
(I'm stunning4)..Aye, Yeah..(stunning2)..
(I'm stunning5)..stunning..Yeah ..stunning..
..(I'm stunning2) when they said I wouldn't, stunning.. (I'm stunning2)..stunning..(I'm stunning2)..when they thought I couldn't..I'm stunning..Yeah stunning..
(I'm stunning4)..when they thought I wouldn't..(I'm stunning..3)Yeah stunning.. (I'm stunning4)..when they said I couldn't..
/(I'm stunning3)..Yeah stunning/2
(Stunt3)..forget a doubter, get yo money, Yeah dawg,..(stunt2)..on them ***** made busters..(stunt2)..prove em all wrong..Uhh..Yeah dawg


Stunt, prove em all wrong Yeah..(Stunt3)..on them..(stunt3)..Yeah man, we stunning,Let's (stunt2)..We stunning, (stunt*3)
Ohh..Yeah

oh i'm pretty sure on the Islamic
term: denier,
it's a prefix,
        dis-,
              dis-      -ease:
which implies negation...
            the negation of ease...
but i'm not interested in this...
nope...
                  i know what Islam
says about the, deniers,
the non-affiliate...
            what, does, Islam,
call, the wavering hearts?
you heard me.
the doubters,
   i do know what a prefix intends...
but do you?
camel jockey...
  really?
   what do you call a wandering heart?
a Shiite?!
        ******* Sunni ****...
no; no what?!
what do, you, call,
doubters, in the Islamic faith?
i didn't, say, deniers,
i said, doubters....
what do you call, a doubter,
within, the confines,
of the, Islamic, faith?!
am i talking Hindi to you?
you're looking pretty *******
stupid to me, "auto-"suggesting,
that i expect an Arabic reply...

what, do you, call,
a doubter, of, Islam?

i know what a denier is...

what, do, you, call,
someone, who, doubts,
the faith, of, Islam?!

      i'm simply asking...
tell me, the difference...
between someone
who doubts...
and someone,
who denies...

                               tell me...
what, is, the, difference...

   oh **** me... and when i woke up,
people implied that all the people
were literate... like **** they were!
like a bunch of industrially
farmed pigs,
educated in the "arithmetic"
of the onomatopoeia of... OINK

i'm crazy enough, crazy plenty...
i fall asleep to
slayer's... raining blood...
give me a ******* tank
and i'm all stampede...
    where?
  where's where?!
   if the "where" is nowhere
other than death?!
the "there" is, there!
and the "there"?!
    is some-where...
  you don't want to be,
here to fathom!

Many doubters said I wouldn’t be
But CUNY Medgar Evers College we shall see
I was educated in being a commodity
The lectures with theories of actual life reality
CUNY Medgar Evers College instilled “Precision”
Thinking strategy and reason all under my decision
I became a believer of myself
I don’t think like everybody else
CUNY Medgar Evers College saw my distant horizon
They saw my efforts of being successful being yonder
It makes all the doubters wonder
But it gives CUNY Medgar Evers College the honor
They have a familiar name with a distinguished face
It’s all rounded at a time of the Civil Rights race
It’s Medgar Evers College in taking its place
It’s my own honor in being educated that no one can erase
A trace of philosophy and being prepared
Business world, this is an achiever who is stating a knowledge mode, but establishing a voice in knowing I should be heard
Many thought I would never go through
Doubters tried all kinds of negativity they could do
CUNY Medgar Evers College helped me to ignore
Prosperity is much to explore
My alma mater of CUNY Medgar Evers College
They showed me I am everything I was trained to be
I continue to be ready for all to see
But I want to remind all came from thee.

If the red slayer think he slays,
Or if the slain think he is slain,
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep, and pass, and turn again.
Far or forgot to me is near,  
Shadow and sunlight are the same,
The vanished gods to me appear,
And one to me are shame and fame.

They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly, I am the wings;
I am the doubter and the doubt,
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

The strong gods pine for my abode,
And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
But thou, meek lover of the good!
Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.

like the inconstant moon I change,
cyclical about circumstances,
serendipity and fortune exchange
appearances for second chances,

and as we each alter our perception,
we see ourselves as constant,
each and every change in direction
still seems like a straight line

with no more than closer inspection
looking behind to the distant
fading horizon in the failing light
the pattern of circles and spirals

and zigzags, stops and backtracks
a wandering chorus line of fools
all singing things I can’t take back
the realization that I am not an individual
:
but an average of multiple formulas
complex variable algebra and simple subtraction
a vector resulting from many forces
pushing and pulling and thrusts and attractions

the color of the liquid in the test tube
fizzing and changing with every next drop occurring
an organism that adapts to its environment
to thus fill its requirements and its fleeting yearnings

a flock of birds, a can of worms, a herd of cats,
an untamable unit described in terms
of the time it exists in existing- that is
another illustration, another article, at any other time or mood

a crop whose fruitfulness is determined by unusual farmers
one field ploughed, one weeded, one fertilized, one seeded
akin to the Bible, a book of numerous authors that tries to
merge allegories into a useful, enlightening anecdote with which to furnish the brood

flesh, soul, chemical, inspired, mechanical-Angel
a temptable machine whose springs and cogs
could be found to have been hand-wound
at any given time by either His Rival’s or God’s

and if Made in His Image then I must be both
wrathful and loving, vengeful and forgiving,
quick to temper and eternally patient
yet limited in time allowed to be spent living

the difference is- my choiceful subsistence briefly caresses
this quick struggle and my purpose not yet fully defined
would fate’s justice have me on the gallows for my excesses?
or would not passion for the endowment of living grant reprieve?

where is the solace for the incurably ardent?
maniacally spontaneous, courageously aloof
what cheer can be brought to the seers?
dejected clairvoyants, puppets or puppeteers to the truth

however never simultaneously clever are we
always we must be one or the other each seen
though never seemed to be separate things
now see what difficulty wrecks all my dreams
:
catharsis then epiphany then pensive then somber
an artist, a daddy, a mocked captive, an avid doubter
carouse then abolish then regret then absolve
a spouse, a skirmish, an uncommon asset, an outlet resolved

how do I bring about the determination of the jury?
which of the accomplices will abide full recognition
and be he who will stand to read the indistinct verdict
to the culpable crowd assembled in this the trial of alternation

so contempt be then to the court of constancy!
no thing in heaven or earth adheres to its philosophy
render the sentence that I may be found guilty
yet I am consented to return undestroyed, now let the die be cast

these confines beg for stasis I cannot deliver
my cell itself is afloat without a tether
these customs require that I be a quitter
yea though the pendulum returns to the tock once the tic has passed

Thomas
Behold My side
Stick your hand in deep
Explore the spear's wound
Feel it
Touch it
Squeeze it like slick, glistening *****
Reach in further
Grab hold of whatever you can
And
QUICK!
Pull it out
You can have it
I don't need it

*Enough of generic songs about simple things easily understood. Let someone else bring the good vibes. I wanted to ask the eternal questions. I wanted to float some possible answers by you.

or how to make the eclectic concentrated,
how to make a zemstwa potion (revenge
potion) - long are the days of educated
Germans citing Grecian words -
my bilingualism gives me a patriotism
to use a language foreign to me,
and still embrace importing Church Slavonic:
                 but what a simple word
zemstwa is: less revenge and more retribution.

karakan: a ****** / dwarf -
but in an inoffensive sentence.
    people in the anglo realm always say
the phrases: where're are you from, originally?
and... how do you say it, properly?
        you first employ a knowledge of
syllable butchery: prophets of the surgical
procedure -
                 macron and umlaut both
akin in arithmetics -
                                  for what's later a comma.
Sartre plagiarised Joyce with *iron in the soul,
     left out all forms of punctuation,
akin to the English language leaving out all
forms of syllable punctuation in reverse -
      which goes against Socrates doing the
Kabbalistic methodology of sounds as atoms,
cut up?      so-  -crat- -es.
                                 Dr. Satan said: it's so.
        i already said that language is the most volatile
substance known to man...
             and that the only people who get to write
books in the west: are people who are asked to write
books in the first place.
      there's me, in a darkened corner:
a coroner's phrase -
                i would be a true idle drunk had i no
tenacity to write and drink...
   by now i'm halfway through a bottle of *** -
Bacardi - or Bacardí - acute iota to get a stress /
prolonging into an ee         - because
you rarely hear someone say Afrikaan: or
   Afrikān - they taught you punctuation of words /
compounds - but they didn't teach you
how diacritical marks are also incisors
    stating that there are two hydrogen atoms and
an oxygen bound to in a reaction with potassium -
or such guises lost or forgotten.
                    it's aesthetic in the informal sense,
in the formal sense: power.
                 no one wants a flower-power hippy cuddle
moment these days, it's true:
                   they want fierce knowing -
people want glasses -
                to possess the Galilean power struggle
stated with cyclops Jupiter being noticed
and saintly Saturn -
                      a different spirit rummages through me
and hence the differential vibration of
the hushed lynx: named Larry.
                     in flames: metaphor -
well, you know, you begin the night with
a change of tone: former barley murky gods' ****
                    amber - to Caribbean clarity -
you're bound to find a difference in shaky "the shadow"
stevens of your hands - i'm way past
the absinthe romanticism - sugar cubes alight
are like latex gimp masks: you start yearning for
the countryside hiatus of forever:
    David Attenborough-esque narrated *** scenes,
birds and the bees, and storks.
                       as sure as Moonday in a
monocle i say: the world events shouldn't drag you
into their narrative - avoid them - avoid them at all
costs: you're not a power broker in their final
summit - you can't change them, turn your attention
elsewhere, into niche topography of interest:
with a very minor demographic of shared coagulation
to express it... back when fame was less of a harrowing:
back when there was no personality cult activation:
a banker said to me once, randomly on a walk:
Newton, what a load of *******!
        and hence the ballistic missiles and that thing
about global warming: for every action there's an
equal and opposite reaction (3rd law) -
     Descartes thought would be part of the
conspiracy theorist columnal dogma reiteration -
doubt is wrong (albeit good faith)
         and negation is right (albeit bad faith,
as Sartre already said) -
     so in turn the tongue: the doubters turn the tongue
into the four limbs with boxing gloves included -
  waggle all you want, the pessimism is already
there - the deniers? they had clothes for their tongue
to make the most spectacular claims about
being naked, when actually dressed at Harrods
in that cheap **** that says: all pharaoh cool, cool.
i'll find more pearls in the reflection of the moon
upon an ocean than i'll ever see donned by pearl
necklace ladies at a fashion week goose-step stomping
anorexics show in London - and that's the truth.
     i'm not a biblical literalist - but **** me!
we were given a poisoned fruit, and told we would
be able to tell apart good & evil, but never from
the two divergent stances, hence the bundled up salad
of like for like -
                     this is Moses as poet, rather than
a general - before telling me he didn't exist
and was mere fiction: tell me he was a cunning poet
before being a cunnin general -
                  in a hundred years' time: you too will
be a myth, that's logically applied history after
being ignored for too long it cannot attract
september the 1st, 1939 - because mythology is
a form of history that detests exactness of dating
and hindsight - it happened: people didn't
really give a **** when it did, done!
     we really do not have a capacity to censor
*******...  not in life, on the street, on t.v., or in a courtroom,
           we don't!
                                   i treat it as a puzzle
rather than a fruit though, otherwise, to be stark-naked
honest: we'd be ****** gorilla boring and that would
be the end of our self-projection as questioning
the void we're in: it would have been blindly
nodded to - and ours': such a pivotal and yet also
pathetic rebellion -
                                 yet again, the world is going
into the shredder - looks elsewhere:
i'm looking at a poem by jack spicer -
he's not a great poet, meaning? he has a decency to
be one... which means he's not oratory
therefore he's implosive, therefore he's part of
the magnetic-enzyme strand of writing:
he attracts people to write -
                    he's not a Bukowski or a Ginsberg -
god no...
                  the seemingly mediocre is there
because of the paparazzi sentiment toe-ward
the greats (on purpose) -
                    you end up feeling:
i need to say something - instead of feeling:
a heckler! shut, the, ****, up!
      that's being perceived as mediocre goes:
it's a fatality of what not to adopt and improve;
like that line about the doubter's tongue being
dressed in fists and knees -
   and the denier's tongue being dressed in Gucci
and Dolce to look the part and
         hardly spread a cup of sweated over panic.
      pro-me-thee-us
      pro-me-thee-us
      five years
      the song singing from its black throat (Jack)
  sure... but it's pro-me-fee-oose - right?
this goes back to not having "punctuation"
flint sharpenings on atoms of lingua -
                 sure, have them between compounds,
but never ascribe them to letters?
  bound to be trouble....
             d'eh very point of fought over is to be
count, unawares: thinking.
then i picked up a very ancient text,
ibn sina / abū alī al-husayn ibn sīnā:
variation, properly?
i'd put a macron over y in al-husaȳn -
     otherwise it's almost like a question of
practising punctuation: which is a variation of
constructing from syllables, rather than
alphabetical beginnings - now let's look
at the variation "how do you pronounce it?"
         e-bin   c-n'ah       ah-boo       a'h-lee
              who-sane         e-bin         see-n'ah
this is how English looks like when undressed
from its lack of applying diacritical marks -
god it's ugly,
               get that Texan gunslinger drawl with
it too: like i'll ever be a cowboy: pff!
yes, there are people out there who enjoy
t.v. shows and look at them fish-eyed glassy -
then there are those that like football games -
but then the few of us look at something like the
following as means for transcendental mind-games
above crosswording:
(Kantian 0 = negation,                1 must therefore
                    mean affirmation, and 2 doubt:
as in: being of two minds)
   ibn Sana (tome of wisdom) -

            R  H
A  0  0  0  0  0  0  B
C  0  0  0  0  0  0  D­
            T  G
                                     this diagram is so idiosyncratic
it would well be a diaphragm -
                                   it's a scematic:
but it's certainly not a need to make language
trivia, in a sense trivial:
             it is a metaphysical translation of a pearl -
the same triviality can be applied to it
as our bewilderment ascribed toward the
analogous translation of it via avaricious people
and precious gems -
             it's not even a Xeno's paradox type of
looky-looky -
                 it's a sort of complete human being type
of scenario: an X marks the spot where you
     grow dumb with: does it matter?
      well: logic that's not restrained (on holiday)
produces such things -
                 such schematics:
   they are artefacts of a way to forget the daily
function of language between people:
as way to suggest: there is a way to get things done
by not getting them done.
                   i could have replaced the original
with a higher tier abstract, namely using less meaningful
encoding symbols, given that 0 - 9 are incompetent
of the 26 variabilities, and the why & i
            yumper and jumper,
   cat and kilogram                    cue, q, kappa -
skewers -     which makes it less than 26,
or the said: ∞      and a - z variation limit from
aardvark                    and   zyzzogeton -
zoo... in between.
                            i don't know what ibn is
trivialising / doing an original antidote to a crossword,
but i can say, given that i found the punctuation
scalpel in non-applied punctuation within letters
in the End-leash language - what i found stark
naked: by the way - the reason that philosophers
never applied grammatically categorising words
in their systems, is why we have that sort of
momentum of applicability in the field of robotics:
to categorise words by their noun or verb
is a reason why philosophy books never applied
such words in their reasoning - therefore the need
to write a book with such words being relevant
as translated into their precise irrelevance
and the relevance of the field of robotics.
never mind, i could have written
          
                     <  ≥
£           .   .   .   .   .   .  ≠ (÷)
= (x)     .   .   .   .   .   .  $
                     ≤  >                        thus the denial
of all plausible conversation on the matter:
and Herr Grinch and the rags to riches
fairytale - and the lottery, and the otherwise
grim simga of the yawning grey plateau;
did i get something wrong?
                 this is an example of an alter-crossword,
and the reason that mathematicians aren't
good at mental arithmetic is because
they have to learn mathematical shorthand
for their arguments, they become kindred spirits
of courtroom stenographers.

Waves roll onto the shore.  The sound, soft and steady but not perfectly so. Far enough to watch outside the halo of town. Yet, still within reality's grasp. Warm sand embeds itself in nooks and crannies. The balmy breeze blows tresses free. No longer constrained and swinging wildly in the evening air.  Enticingly yellow sunset with clouds like meringue and white smoke.

Painted golden sun
Sleepy on the horizon
Awed into silence

A short drive in God's hands and it seems a better place.  That buttercup and frothy sky heals unknowingly.  Lapping sea and glorious firmament are proof enough.  What is faith to a doubter?

or the alternative precursor to the spice girls
(yes, i did buy their debut -
      baby spice, well, my infantile
fetish with cute, clean cut blondes, meh,
old story)
                 but **** on me, President Reagan
was a former actor -
     i have no personal interests in the debate,
well: i like to see real life Hollywood,
i like films, from time to time...
    20th century moustaches are these days
relegated to hairstyles....
  you know why we don ****** hair?
the ***** are pruned and trimmed
for a ***** movie: we like to fiddle with it,
esp. the hair crop on the chin,
     i could become a violinist with it.
what spurred me on? Marvin Gayes heard it through
the grapevine, or as i say:
  down the **** gold, auburn, amber, beer,
whiskey, **** me! a correlation!
or a categorical imperative some would say:
             heard it down the wheat shaft
in between men having their prided little Richards
cut off - fun ******* fun -
         that's me and washing my hands
writing poetry in advance to my body language
transformed starting to style myself
on the baguettes hit from the 80s:
dance like a pigeon, nod pigeon in a walk,
the guy that was so jealous of me
is now a manic depressive -
       and i'm like: so what? jog on!
                      i was stupid for 10 seconds of my life,
better write out bail...
                        they should call it
the s.d.i.             (sniffer dog investigation) -
it doesn't look even remotely disastrous,
     only with that Antoinette quiff and a moustache,
      oh we loved the pern wigs
before the bowlers and top hats...
          it's as if the Victorian era was an era
for mourning the death of God, truly.
all the little revolution stemming from the death
of someone ending a bio at 1900 didn't matter...
    he was philosophising at a funeral...
i'm just watching the vehement application
of Vatican non-curriculum activity stemming from
archeology started off in Egypt under the
title: St. Thomas' account the doubter / the philosopher
gaining ground in all things trans-,
                a return by "popular" demand,
first the authentic Christianity of the gospels
and now infuriated Islam and the unauthentic application
of the recovered gospels -
   can you imagine there being a brokering
       gamble on literacy back then, would the priests
have made fishermen literate back when it
was stated: keep them wholly physically intact,
let's not interfere with their physical prowess,
we need their physical strength, undermine their
physical strength with being able to read: and we're ******!
   a fisherman wrote that gospel?
                     (insert snigger) -
        only in the 20th century could the benefits
of education a son of a roofer / metallurgy agent go
down sour... first they said they wanted me to
come upon the plateau of what education is about:
the just dispensation of wealth,
   but then they heard about my background and
simply said: nah, that ****** can clean the dishes...
the worst part?
      i would have agreeably been a street-cleaner:
but not after having invested in education!
      that's a ****** insult!
                so here's me,
high as a kite on *****, listening to poets talk
about depression for a while thinking:
    where's the wheelchair?
                             and when i'm through
i tune in, listen to Marvin Gaye and start dancing
like a pigeon strutting:
           guillotine horizontal chopping the air up,
        twerk a bit in the bathroom
and feel Chappy Jolly -
                   i'd stick a thumb up my *** if i wanted
to as reversal of the *******
                                being accusatory -
don't educated me and steal from those who don't
want to be with their common sense education
                and give me absolutely nothing
chemistry related to do it...
        i'll just start writing and turn the heat up on
being a hermit...
                              becoming educated is a monstrous
delusion that the priestly caste of society dish out
             once they dished out literacy,
              but once literacy has become exhausted
they dish out education in the broader sense.
i was walking back from the supermarket today,
and picked up a pound coin from the pavement
(thanks Sinatra, that'll pay the rent)
    and started fiddling with it in my hand:
some people have lucky charms, emeralds and
what not in necklaces and other memento forms,
i started fiddling with this found pound coin,
  Whether's Original colouring - not quiet copper,
indeed more like solidified bleached out caramel,
when i walked with my hands partially clenched
like a gorilla's and balanced the coin
on the *******'s phalange -
        and suddenly i was holding a philosopher's stone...
        it all became visceral - clear, poignant,
this little thing can transform anything from
        copper into gold -
   from iron into gold...
               where the alchemist sleeping when
they were passing this stuff about, including
the blimmin' cobblers?
                       it can also include asking
the magpies to fly in and say: not all that glitters
is gold... where are the silver spoons?
              oh for sure, the eagle as emblem / mascot of the state
  is doomed, take the Third ***** and the Roman Empire...
             no one ever bothered the sparrow to be engulfed
in replica on standards of a marching enemy...
    the crow seems pretty safe too, funny
            the eagle is a crushing curse of failed predatory
alliances when embedded in metal for man
   to strut toward a harrowing end.

You said I was Alaska- its true
But I'm not gonna crash that car.
I replied 'then you're the Colonel'
And you're much better- by far.

You always said you were Lennie
And this I was George- the clever one.
But I am the fool and you are the brighter,
You'll be around when I'm gone.

You always thought you were Ron
And me Hermione- I guess so.
But then who's Harry- *** we're not gonna marry
It's you- you are the hero.

I reckon I'm Eragon- the wanna be warrior
With a lot to learn.
But I've Saphira by my side
Level-headed fun and stern.

I'm Frodo- I keep going,
But weakness roots in my heart
In you I have found my Sam,
Won't let me fall back to the start.

Asterix the bright and clever-
Always knows what to do.
I follow- a faithful Obelix,
I'll always look to you.

And if I am truly Odin then you are Asgard itself.
How many other ways can I describe our friendship?
Your are Peter the rock-
And I am Thomas the doubter.

We took a bus to Wilmington
And skipped a dream or two
In order to be cognizant—
When the “Are we there yet’s”
Rebounded void of “yet.”

We parked the bus adjacent to
The paint-peeling facade
Of lonely temple Wilmington—
Threatening no demon of the sky
With a keenly polished death spike.

It had no spendthrift window of
Christ Jesus with the sick
And poor, neglected derelicts—
Who glow with jubilee and gold chloride
For His altruistic charities.

Across its door was fastened tight
A rusted iron chain
Which barred the shallow, blinkered souls—
Who loitered at the barrier’s feet
Waiting on God to warrant entry.

But we who were of cogent view
Detached deterring catch
And entered with our chins *****—
A light-bulb-vacant sanctuary
Where taciturn shadows took a seat in every pew.

And down a velvet aisle stood
A lonely, weeping priest
Inhaling in unblemished palms—
That not a single pious doubter
Would dare inspect.

“Welcome to my church,” he said
With breathless, choking sobs,
“I am the congregation here—
The pastor, choir, usher, and Sunday school teacher
Of Wilmington Church of Reason.”

Inquired we what hidden woe
Enlaced with torment cast
Those salt discharged convulsions—
Quaking the sanctity of exultation
In the House of Apollo.

And with concise, unleavened words
He justified his tears
And whispered to our weary troop—,
“Alone, alone am I,
Isolated within this box of omitted truth.

“O, give me soothing slumber deep
And strip these sentient eyes
From ghastly sheaths of consciousness—
Repair this mended paradigm,
Or tell me that I am mistaken.

“Imaginary friends and foes
Make wretched hearts a wreath
Of roses red and mistletoe—
And bird of paradise to keep
Hope alive, alive and awake and well, hope alive…”

So each of us, a brimming cup
Of empathy, remained
To keep old pastor Wilmington—
Old usher, choir, teacher, congregation Wilmington
Alive and awake and well.

The heart that beats within me now
Was silent for a while:
Shouldering the guilt of years
And clothed in my denial.

And when, those blurry months ago,
It stirred to life again,
I tried to still my beating heart
The way it was back then.

I should have known, I should have seen
Through my soul's sad disguise;
But ev'ry time I saw the truth
I quickly closed my eyes.

The heartbeat in my shackled chest
Was loud, but I was louder.
Sticking fingers in my ears,
I hummed to quell the doubter.

"Your heart's alive! It beats again!
The fears you loved have faded."
But I felt safe behind the bars
My jailed heart had created.

So, silently, this gentle Trust
That I had never known
Came whisp'ring through to save my heart
Of flesh, and not of stone.

Trust wrapped its arms around me
And lifted up my soul
From depths of blue obscurity
And I gave up control.

I opened up my eyes that day
And though they shone with tears,
The hurting heart inside of me
Felt stronger than those fears.

The dealer's upcard is a bust prone six;
The count screams my two tens should be split.
But the pit-boss glares like Charon guarding Styx;
I fear an obolus chip could serve as passage bit.

Surveillance cameras peering from above
have most surely pegged me as a counter.
I want so much to give my chips a shove,
But back-room paranoia renders me a doubter.

I stare into the frenzied dealer's eyes,
Concern says she knows I know she knows.
A prudent man would be saying his good-byes,
taking win or loss as fortune of the cards bestows.

Discretion and all that, I shall be sage;
I scoop my chips heading for the cashier's cage.

.i've grieved a death, but i've also grieved a life to sustain aging toward the surmount of living with the basis of 80, to age with; death is no punishment, for what makes itself in being an apprehension, of both signature and a likeable testimony of the awaited recluse.

yeah..... but
i'm a religious
doubter....
not a denier:
big  
******* difference!
a doubter
is not an out-right
denier....
to doubt
is act of denial!
you,
*******,
imbecile!
you!
Kaabah!
winding!
              sand!
serpent!
                 of the reversed
Nile!
you... *******
puppy lying
Arabic pricsk! pussywhip!

i'll have the death
of these pussywhips!
this fungus of human
existence;

sold to a monetary
value of a:
grievance!

        death, death sole,
death, absolute.

In the beginning, we bartered hearts like merchants at a bazaar,
each of us donning silver smiles and guarded eyes,
holding a currency of whispers and half-truths,
our souls up for auction, a tangled web of worth.

I've always been a collector of broken things,
an archivist of fractured dreams,
a believer in the beauty of the mended,
but this time, I am the jagged porcelain,
cradled in your hands, asking to be whole.

You wove love into me like a tapestry,
threaded through my aching seams,
you took my tattered edges, stitched them tenderly,
and I could almost believe I am deserving,
though I wear this love like borrowed garments,
a thrift store treasure, waiting to be claimed.

Oh, how we danced in the shadows of our doubts,
with the moon as our witness, we pirouetted,
brushed fingertips like shooting stars,
my heart a hummingbird, in the cage of my chest.

I have held shame like a secret lover,
nestled in the crook of my neck, a serpent's breath,
it whispered in my ear, "you're not enough,
you're a counterfeit soul, a fool's gold,
a price too steep, a debt too deep."

I've chased oblivion, doused in liquid fire,
a self-destructive waltz, a frenzied masquerade,
but you, you held me close, a lighthouse in the storm,
your love, a compass guiding me to shores unseen.

Together, we excavated the depths of my despair,
traveled through the catacombs of my heart,
our love a language, a dialect of healing,
a lexicon of scars and whispered apologies.

I have been a doubter, a skeptic of my worth,
but you taught me to seek the gold within my veins,
to peel back the layers of rust and fear,
to find the precious, the hidden, the unseen.

And now, we stand at the edge of a precipice,
our love a fragile bridge, swaying in the breeze,
I tremble, unsure, a hesitant traveler,
but you, you hold my hand, and together, we leap.

In this uncharted landscape, we forge our destiny,
a mosaic of laughter and tears, a tapestry of dreams,
our love, a currency worth more than silver or gold,
for we are the treasure, the priceless, the untold.

it's what you do to me that makes me see that the summer isn't so bad when it comes to weather if you're around and act like the winter breeze
it's what you do that fragments and throws away my left over sadness in a hole that's feelings of the are forgotten
it's what you do that puts me to sleep at night because I know I'll wake up and know you'll be mine for the next 16 hours I'm awake
it's what you do that makes me write like I'm writing about a high power that I believe in
it's what you do that makes it seem like the sun and the moon aren't the only things that can light up my world with eternal hope when the sky resembles how I used to feel; blue, or when the sky resembles my biggest fear as an innocent minded 4 year old; the darkness
it's what you do that makes it seem like water isn't the only thing that can keep me alive, because your kisses hydrate my soul more than hydrogen and oxygen hydrate my body
it's what you do that makes me want to copy and paste my words on all that I feel about you inside a door in your heart and lock them with a key that I'll throw in the deepest area of the Atlantic ocean, not even the most powerful magnet in the universe could find it, because the sureness in my sentences I compose for you are meant to stay in your heart like well thought of tattoos without hesitations on inking your skin permanently for the rest of eternity
it's what you do that makes me run the mile in 4 minutes and 53 seconds hoping you'd be at the end of the 5,280 feet I ran
it's what you do that makes think overcoming what I think is impossible at the moment is possible
it's what you do that makes me proud to stand by your side when we're walking hallways full of shame and disappointment
it's what you do that made me realize a believer of God can love a doubter of his word, an opposition to my morals
it's what you do that made me believe some blessings are everlasting, like you
it's what you do that makes me wish I could tattoo my kisses on your face to remind you that I love every inch of what you don't like when you look in the mirror to make your insecurities irrelevant to what I admire
it's what you do that makes me see that comparing galaxies to your eyes don't do them justice
it's what you do, that makes me love you as much as I do, as much as I always have, as much as I always will.

Ohh..Ohh..Ohh..Ohh,..O..,Yeah
Young Ston what's good, Only For The Real Entertainment ***** thats what's good..Whats up tho dawg..Uhh,..Ohh..Ohh..Ohh..Ohh,..O..,..
I'm in my zone,..(I'm in my zone4)..yeah..in (my zone2)..in (my zone2)..Yeah..(I'm in my zone2)..in my zone,..Yeah..(I'm in my3)..zone..my zone,..just leave me (alone2)..in (my zone2)..(I'm in my zone2)..(just leave me alone, in my zone2)..,don't mess wit me don't bother me dude at all,..(I'm in my zone2)..just (leave me
alone2)...alone..in my zone..(Im in my zone2)..in (my zone3)
so Don't annoy me **,..(I'm in my zone3)..
/in (my zone2)../3
(Yeah3)..dawg..(Ohhwoah2)..Ohh, o..Let's goo, roll something now,....Ohhwoah..Ohh, o..

/Im in my zone2..just leave me alone2/2..
Leave me alone, don't mess wit me, don't bother me dude, Noo,Woah..Ohh,oo Noo,..(I'm in my zone2)..in (my zone4)..(I'm in my zone3)..just (leave me alone2) alone..while I'm in (my zone2)..,Aye..,(I'm in my zone3)..My zone,.. Yeah (I'm in my zone2)..
/so just..leave me (alone2)../3
While..I'm in (my zone3),..don't annoy me **,just leave me alone,(while I'm in my zone2)..I'm in (my zone3)..Aye,..(Im in my zone3)..(just leave me alone3)..leave me (alone2)..alone in (my zone2)...Aye


Its (so much2)..******* & (so much2)..fucc **** going on in this world today man,..so much (problems2)..,so much (violence2)..so much (drama2).. & so much (corruption2)..,Aye I just want peace dawg,..Aye I just wanna be all
/(alone2) in (my zone4)/2
Uhh.., (Aye I just want to be left alone2)..left alone,..alone..in ( my zone2)..(Im in my zone4)..Yeah bro..Ohh,o..(please just leave me alone2)..Aye

I been stressing out so much, my head starting to hard dawg, so Imma just roll up & solo dolo  me 3 king size joints yep..
Aye,I might just sip on some brown too dude,Imma wash it down, wit a ounce of OE, who gives a **** , stop worrying about me, ***** worry about yo self..Aye
Yeah I'm only 19, but I got a old head spirit mane, I get my habits from my daddy, don't **** me off or I'll whoop yo *** mane,Uhh..
I got so much angry thats up in me, I release it all out on a beat, I'm raging, I'm trapped in a mental cage man,Aye will somebody (set me free3)..please, Aye..I'm so invincible homie

All that other **** that these rappers gotta say is invisible to me, I speak so in depth, I speak so clearly,  my  music speaks volumes..I rap so vividly, so thoroughly I'm so complete, because God got me aye..God got me mane,..So Imma say as much as I can say as possible mane,..anything is possible Yeah..anything is possible man, don't ever in yo life let a hater wash away yo hope my *****, real talk man..because (anything is possible2)..Yeah don't let a doubter tell you otherwise, dawg..Uhh,..(I'm in my zone3)..(My zone2)..& I just wanna be left alone,..I just wanna smoke solo dolo, chill by myself & get to business man..Uhh,Yeah  I'm feeling so lonesome, but I'm usta to this,Imma be okay,Yeah man..Aye
I'm in (my zone3)..Aye

All of these fake ***** *** rappers need to lay low man & stay outta the real ones way, before they all get laid out by me & my team..,for real mane,..Uhh,I'm in my zone wit the fam,Uhh...we getting to the money, Yeah man..,I'm not worrying about making new friends, I'm not worrying about what ***** bout to **** on my ***** next, Noo..
(I'm in my zone man,Yeah I'm in my zone *****2)..(so just leave me alone2)..(just leave me alone3)..***** I'm in (my zone2)..
(So just leave me alone2)..(just leave me alone3)..while I'm in (my zone2)..Uhh, Yeah..(I'm in my zone2)..(My zone2)..

Aye What's up, what's good, What's cracking dawg, Aye what's happening now,Aye..What's cracking shawty, What's good,..What's happening, What's up now man..Aye

I'm spitting knowledge, Yeah conscience filled raps Yeah..I'm on my KRS one , **** my *****,Aye let all of your stresses,..go..(just let em go2)..let em all go..(just go2)..go..Uhh
Aye, roll that choke, mane, you ain't even got to pass it homie, Aye, I throw you some for free because you (my folk4)..Yeah you can roll yo own..Yeah roll yo own man, just like a boss should ..& Aye let all of your stresses,..go..just (let em all go2)..let em go..(just go2)..go..Uhh..Yeah

OFTR We bossing,..yeah..we bosses, We all come from nothing, we came outta no where now we shinning  like vvs diamonds,real diamonds *****..We stunning like a high fashion model, Aye don't be a follower be a leader , I'll teach you how to become one.. , yeah Imma role model.., Aye Imma roll my whole O & be (in my zone2)..
Im not picking up my phone, all yall **'s (just leave me alone2)..Yeah (I'm in my zone2)
(My zone..*2)

i'm starting to get the riff of the argument...
how people talk about this
grand... "singularity"...
    of consciousness, of, what not...
                            what?
how about we settle the whole free speech
debate, first?
learn to crawl before you learn
to walk, and walk before you start
to jump, and jump before elevating it
to acrobatic gymnastics?
    why is no one talking abut
the great convergence?
           hell... free speech this,
free speech that...
                        but... why is everyone
so shy of the establishing
a verbal "chess match" of dialectics?
                    with every comment sections,
there is no comment to begin with...
   the original comment, simply,
becomes lost in what ends up being neither
an echo in a cave, or a plateau with
a credible echo possibility...
it's the common thread of when
science fiction takes over science...
           science fiction jumps three steps ahead
of science... and then the backlash:
the reality didn't catch up
to the science!
                    what to do what to do?!
this free speech, "debate" is missing
the key ingredient...
  i'm sure neither side wants to be right...
but at the same time...
neither side wants to entertain
engaging in dialectics...
   sorry... neither side does...
verbal chess doesn't work upon
solidifying your exodus from the Agora
with a smug-face...
looking pristine, not once challenged
by your own thought to
induce the emotions of doubt...
the point of a dialectic is:
your opinions, comply with my own
opinions, even though they are
divergent ontology...
yet they still have the potential
to comply with what is otherwise
known as the: collective convergence...
however in-line with a dichotomy,
first a convergence must
be established, before the utopian
singularity is sourced as
a rigid architecture of the future...
both sides can speak...
but since neither sides are speaking
to each other...
   a dualism becomes a dichotomy
that doesn't become a dialectics...
less words?

   duality = dichotomy ≠ dialectics...

these companies are not attacking free
speech per se...
    even i can't see any potential
for dialectics...
   i entertain dialectic with
old men on park benches...
  
and that's about it...
           if you can't reason with someone
who's the antithesis of you?
you can't begin to reason with anyone,
esp. yourself!

no, there are certain obstructions
you can't shift... mountains
(last time i heard): were supposed
to be unmovable...
  because they befitted
the metaphor category of wisdom
in man... along with the rivers
and the seas... the forests and the deserts...

no... these people are not going after
free speech...
they're seeking environments where
they can spectate dialectics!
no one wants the sort of free speech
whereby there's an emphasis on
the investment of stating the already
given certainty:
                                "but they're my opinions,
and i'm entitled to have them"...

and i was going to posit a genesis
of dialectics from such a defensive
starting point?! no!
the sacred has already been stated...
so... what dialectic attachment
point do i take?

       none?! you're joking, right?!
none?!
     so one side says one thing,
the other says its own thing...
and i'm... i'm hearing the concept
of "the" singularity"...
but what about the grand *convergence?!

******* milkshake / cocktail of
a humanity's worth of coherence...
it's not like anyone argued
with Hey-Zeus Crisp either...
if they did... they argued around
the ground of also enforcing
   blackmail...
                    they argue... sure...
they disagreed...
but the low-hanging fruit said to them:
he's still going to hang...

see... i'm not even sure i wrote that,
the plethora of doubt
is... so much more entertaining
to preserve the dignity of thought...
than it is to arrive at the plateau of
faith... or the down-trodden
bleeding heart of outright denial...
denial...
              such a boring reality...

you never deny the existence of ghosts,
you always doubt the existence of ghosts...
because, with a denial of the existence
of ghosts?
you put your faith into kettles
switching off while the water has
boiled to 100 degrees Celsius...
    traffic always travels clockwise
on an English roundabout...

  like Sartre noted:
  negation is an article of bad faith...
and... the Quran doesn't
have a word for those
St. Thomas affiliate...
             a denier is a non-believer...
but the book doesn't have a name for...
a doubter... a quasi- / pseudo-believer...
which is asking the BIG question
within the demands to revise the Islamic
text to reconsider those who out-rightly
deny... and those who simply
base their faith...
not on the certainty of faith,
but on the uncertainty of doubt...
treating death with the focus of a child...
like a roller-coaster...
         well... everything from imagination,
memory and thought is intact
upon the birth-death "seance"...
everything is still undeveloped at
the death-birth celebration...
why take away from people the thrill
of death, feeding them certainty,
why stigmatize doubt?
              
   i wasn't born into a certainty
even if i was given a body,
the body delayed my possession of thought...
please... let me the allowance
of having the possession of thought
to delay whatever is left of
a possession of body...
               however that might translate
into its own negation,
of the elevated thought into a post-scriptum
of soul...
               don't think i don't think
myself as mortal...
   but i want to survive the plague
of what others fear...
that some day the party will be over...
for me the party never began...
   and i'm ready for the grand
YWN                      to tAke my heArt.

The Law is abolished
Powerless to save
As it ever was
A long lost language etched
Burned into the hard element
Subject to erosion
Replaced by flesh and blood
Speaking the same message
"Mercy, not Sacrifice"

The Word is established
Hated for its Truth
Love your brother
Love yourself
Impossible
Impossible
So few can read between the lines:
TRY

It is in the effort
That we find communion
With each other
The" judging not lest ye be judged"
That fires the engines
Of life in the world
Ruled by the powers of darkness
Yet
Even so, still the world we live in
Usurped
We are prisoners of darkness

Chained in Plato's cave
Loving the absence
The void is all we've known
All there is to love
For love will be love and
Love will have it's way
Love will find something to love
Thy brothers
Thy self
Sure, unobtainable

Love nonetheless, though darkened, restrained
A teaser
Just enough to make you want more
Just enough to make you believe
You need more

Thomas can't see it
Tommy don't know
Tom's a doubter
Tommy's the man
Thomas knows his ****
Tommy's not sure
Tom hates what he cannot know
Tommy knows nothing
Thomas hates himself
Tommy wants the moon
Tom won't be satisfied until he gets the moon
Tommy doesn't know how
Thomas wants to believe
Tommy finds it very hard
Tom won't believe what he cannot see
Tommy wishes
Thomas needs hope
Tommy wishes it away
Tom won't let himself be happy
Tommy knows fear
Thomas fears happiness
Tommy is terrified of Truth
Tom thinks he might know
Tommy won't accept it
Because the Truth is...
Tommy needs
Thomas needs
Tom needs

The Law is abolished
The chains are broken
All that is left to do
Is give up the shadowplay
Overcome the fear of getting shot in the back
TURN AROUND
Stare into the Light
Let it blind you
And find bliss in the hot, white glare

Turn around
It's not all that hard
Just
TRY

The Word is established
To free the captives
To turn their sights from the inside
To show the way of love
That swirls like a sweet smelling fog in the air around them
To teach them how to cast out devils
Their own demons, Legion
To multiply fish and loaves, to turn nothing into something
TO BREAK THEM DOWN

TO BREAK YOU DOWN
To raze the tower of babel that has been raised in your mind
Swirling with ideas and genius
All the while infected with the opinions of others
Held down by meanness and cruelty of those who don't understand
Dragged down by idiots and buffoons you are commanded to love
Crucified by ignorant people who desire to make themselves your enemies
Brothers
For all this you are asked to love them
For all of this you are expected to love yourself
For all of this, can you believe that redemption is glimpsed?
Is this the price you pay?
Is it worth it?

The chains are broken
The darkness is extinguished
Death has been consumed by death
See the cave for what it is
Your heart
And embrace the Light that illuminated it

Is it worth the price?
Your secret place is sacred
But how can you bring in love
If you don't venture outside to find it?
You will forget what love even is
How can you exercise compassion
If you don't find someone to have compassion for?
How can you forgive if there is no one to forgive?
Yourself? How do you even know HOW to forgive
When you won't forgive yourself?

The Law is abolished
Flesh and blood remain
The essence of the Law now
Shining brightly in your secret place
From behind

Brahma
BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON
If the red slayer think he slays,
      Or if the slain think he is slain,
They know not well the subtle ways
      I keep, and pass, and turn again.

Far or forgot to me is near;
      Shadow and sunlight are the same;
The vanished gods to me appear;
      And one to me are shame and fame.

They reckon ill who leave me out;
      When me they fly, I am the wings;
I am the doubter and the doubt,
      I am the hymn the Brahmin sings.

The strong gods pine for my abode,
      And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
But thou, meek lover of the good!
      Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.

Skeleton buried within clay cage
Grinning
Horrified beyond belief.
Energized by rage and grief
Every moment alive: winning
Trust the movement, trust the magick
Improving flow
Power to transcend the tragic
Flowering lotus

Standing here upon the verge
Of who I am and will become,
Eyes wide with wonder
At the infinite possibilities,
I encounter pause
In the face of two questions
I never had to ask before.
Who am I?
Writer, friend, lover, doubter;
An emotional jack-of-all-trades,
Eager to learn yet scared of answers,
What am I afraid of?
Ignorance, death, loss, myself;
The four great evils
That all men and women face.
But let it not be said that I fear aging;
For the chance to gain
The experience and wisdom
Necessary to answer these two questions
Is one I take with open arms,
Drinking myself in
While my heart beats double quick.

O in the garden of my youth
A bird sings aloud
O darling,arise,arise.....arise!
Opening your eyes
Filled with the
Sleepiness of
Good love
O the love that
Becomes your sole guide!
O darling ,awake,o awake
O today
In this night
So playful!
Awake in the
Sweet songs
Which herald
The maniac beauty
Of phalguna(spring month)
O in that
Song ,that
Lovely strain
Of first love
O you
The doubter
Of the first flush
Of love
O in my garden
The sweet cuckoos
Call out
O darling awake,o awake!
Awake in a
New glory!
O in the fragrance
Of new bakula flowers
O in the germination
Of the seed
Of the sweet
Soothing wind!
O in unseen
Secrecy!

O today in the
Overflowing floral
Decor
Awake in sweet
Shivering shyness

O in the bed of my heart
In my sleep
O listen
The sweet flute
Plays
In the depths
Of my heart
Of my inner
Soul
O darling,awake,o awake!

I think a lot about you and me;
about what We used to be
when it was summer and everything was happy.

I think a lot about the fun We used to have,
how you could never make me mad,
and a phone call made a day good from bad.

I think a lot about the kisses you gave;
about what it meant to me when you came and stayed
when it was inconvenient for you, and I had to be brave.

I think a lot about the time I said
how I'd give you one hundred percent 'til the end,
and near the finish line: "Trying not to get attached," I read.

I think a lot about how I started to cry,
about what I told myself to deny
when it was clear We was soon to die.

I think a lot about how We was so mature,
how long distance made me forcibly stronger,
and it would be a waste of everything to be a doubter.

I think a lot about what you could now be doing;
about what you could be thinking
when it was sixteen days ago that marked the ending.

I think a lot about the fact that I miss We and you,
how I sincerely hope that you do too,
and my fragmented heart breaks when I realize it's probably not true.

The power of Christ.
Jesus declared.
Jesus made aware  that God the father was above all things.

Jesus stood firm.
Jesus is truth.
That once you believe.
A positive change will come over you.

Jesus march on.
Jesus live on.
Doing the purpose of God as he were required too.

He died.
He rose with more power than before.
Getting close to his vision should be all our ultimate goal.

They argue.
They debate about his birth.
While some realize he the strongest power next to the word in church.
No one comes to the father.
Unless they pass through him.

Some states, he was just a prophet.
An ordinary man.
Who gets more acclaim of raising the sick from the dead?
Or healing the blind during his earth's time.
Or turning water into wine.

The power of Jesus will always be spoken.
He's a true soldier of God.
And never was a token.

He knew about his disciple the doubter.
The liar.
And his traitor too.
And if you doubt this.
Pick up the bible and locate the truth.

He knew his time would be cut short.
He gotten this message from above.

By: Cedric McClester

Ya see the actual fact is
At times it’s not attractive
When we’re called to be proactive
Cos the atmosphere’s refractive
As if an insurmountable force
Things have suddenly changed course
And the protagonist has no remorse

Like the bullets a shooter packs
Or a freight train off the tracks
A reactionary reacts
Only to established facts

Don’t cha find it kinda strange
That we still argue climate change
After all those hurricanes
You’d think by now we’d use our brains
We’ve been shaken yet not stirred
Sumthin’ had to have occurred
Though silence is preferred
It should make us say my word

Like the bullets a shooter packs
Or a freight train off the tracks
A reactionary reacts
Only to established facts

And the argument’s been made
By the price already paid
For the groundwork to be laid
So our planet can be saved

And by now I think its clear
Just check out the atmosphere
Global warming would appear
To be already here
So it shouldn’t take much more
For the doubter to be sure
That the ozone layer’s core
Is sumthin we can’t ignore

Like the bullets a shooter packs
Or a freight train off the tracks
A reactionary reacts
Only to established facts

Ya see the actual fact is
At times it’s not attractive
When we’re called to be proactive
Cos the atmosphere’s refractive
As if an insurmountable force
Things have suddenly changed course
And the protagonist has no remorse




(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.

Five points flicker-tease,
"How will you stop our yawning

gaps? Can you tip-toe
tap us out a doubter's ledge,

foot-con Pentagon's
firm routes? Or diag'nals dance

to coin Pentacle's
conjuring? We'd relish reels,

spun round in Circle's
blur — unbroken, unending."

today i've no need for anything
you're everything that i desire
you returned my missing smile
of you my heart could never tire

a life that's better than a dream
i never believed that i could find
someone so lovely falling for me
i guess it’s true that love is blind

i love you more each passing day
forever a doubter now i'm believing
you're everything and so much more
my heart is home it’s never leaving