Fragile egg-shell mind on dawn’s highway bleeding the segue between times traversed only in momentary dreams or in enduring excursions

We drag our droll and quaint 60s baggage like the luggage of a safari made of concrete girding a cavernous expanse of unheralded ground

With our ears oriented to the floor, we leap out of body never to deplore….never to ignore….never to miss the blue bus of our drafted imaginations, so carefully culled from brash elitism

I trounce the intervening time between being friendless and an ironic end, and an irenic comrade becoming the dearest amazed but always aplomb friend

We simper in our glorious traversal, and though bedraggled through an ornamented cavern we linger just long enough to be celebrated

Then a blues riff emanates from a vapid bar, and finally someone heralds my exhumed memory still rusty with the pavement of encased concrete on an empty or full tomb

So I wander in my mind to that roughshod Paris glassy tincture a romanticized gild of proper sensibility crafted in the tongues of lizards emulating the tongues of serpentine Anglicans

As the power of love transcends the love of power, both are afforded serendipitously upon the stately occasion of a fitful revolt where heads literally rolled and deaths still unfurl from the slippage of a violent malevolent eternity, crafting a new creative way to expedite the smite of preventable scourge

So, I see your picaresque side and your wide-eyed love for a listless ship anointed of a crystal blip just detectable long enough on RADAR to become the statistic to crack the slim WHIP

No wigs are needed at this formality, no figs grow from trees forty-five years buried and almost a full month unsung

Pitiable cretins of an invented insanity, they scoff at my ravenous and portentous heart for its excess and for aligning with an upstart verging on only a specious insanity

Why in all humanity could a month be mustered with every defense of history and yet for it to be so widely flouted as a risible exercise in futility

The irony that the artistic glamor of a past vogue becoming a revival that is often toked only to one song but never to the memorial of great cavernous and commodious imaginations, staggers with dismay where otherwise the mayday would be a disaster but still a great day

Then I look at a triggered-fingered omen of a death so ominous yet so brazenly confronted as the ambassadors of time provide plaudits to a fearless martyrdom

Why such a sad spate, why such a stringent but malevolent fate a malediction on a family whose crest is not crestfallen like rolling waves but ornamented with gravity impounding its own weight

A fugacious tomb, an eternal flame, a swan song announcing an independent authority on a prescient demise mashed and deprived

A single shot rippling through the broadened space between clasped eternity and a histrionic disgrace as a psychological confederate pays lip service to a reiterative applause

A cousin hardly American in a defected record of incendiary plumes of a hoarse hatred of waxen discs and flying discs alike,  climbs out of a bonfire mounted purely out of vindictive spite

Then upon a great white buffalo a wrapped package of Californian love before California ever alighted like something beyond an avaricious dove, saw a rocky park and a hearth of illuminated darkness the singular spark

Captain Morgan knows the jackknife applause of a botched deal morphing into a disbelieved spiel. A shibboleth of enormous mystical weight crashing down from an ethereal abode and heaven heavily saddened cannot hardly appeal

Then a loving spoonful of crystal blue persuasion led me to Ethel’s regimented keepsake and for once in my life nobility and I became a grateful waif. But temerity laughed, splintered spacecraft, and the wooden paws of a bearish applause led to resurgent clarity

Blinking stars shattered by knighted and raw applause punctured the liberated might of a sentient hortatory savior grasped by the internecine wrench of a waxen time

An indie track slides by unnoticed in an aleatory time, and the threadbare whine of centuries of lament becomes a dastardly barn set ablaze with the fury of ancients and the scurry of faineant patents

Perfidy slides in recess, and in gentle forbearance the winged angel lingers like a halo on conifer and spring above a remedial ring

I dial frisky celerity tingling the dangling claws of a raven’s screed and in plunder of all history’s pilfer secrets I eagerly weave a tapestry Indiana Jones himself would be proud to watch

Not the riotous ruin of a mystery tour of verdure crippled by genocide but overcome by the revived life of raised rain razing the moments of indelible pain

But the culmination of a proffered time taken at its word for its every careened bird, for its every brazen gird. The manger of proctored stars calls us home tonight and home forever. Life in quaked timorous stumbles suddenly no longer so fitfully absurd.

The quixotic plundered of pirates and emperors in direct emulation of some crooned pastiche of whittled integrity, surges above any encased blurb and any vain testament to a pyramid rigid in destiny and ragged in desultory and sturdy sincerity

Multiplying the ineffable by the division of arable divorced from edible is too creative to be eaten as pabulum when sparks curdle flickered moonlight crimson and that become golden only to the last laugh of ennobled ragamuffins

Frankly the desert of melliferous gorillas abetting the lark of a heavily vetted camarilla engaged in the sinecure of a rigged wall on a main street to block the tall from the lame bleat. Stocks grazed, costs engaged on a littoral beach at the end of a Bossy promenade

This prayer is a cutthroat collapse of a merry spare, a ribbed ****** waiting to plunge into the antithesis of female despair, but sincere in its restraint that vixens courted in love aren’t courted in litigation of a wagered dare

Ambulances chase Deloreans through the desolate moon-stricken skies of a time agape with fleets of phantasmagoria on a Cliffside too wise to ever mince words or excise cries

Skulking the red-teared caverns of entombed films and lampooned tinctures on a passion vetted only for certain and utter deracinated disguise, I wallop with winged men in a single soul Armed to the Teeth with inveterate tithes to eternal internments of poached and endangered gazettes

As growth older in wizened skin bets on epithets rather than epitaphs for rinsed peace and triumphant clefts we leap above in orbit of only the bellowing nether of blown tolls and untold souls aggregating the esoteric grasp of Alexandrian tomes

The denumeration of certainty is a carousel of wonder, a splurge of time ripped asunder with majesties of paparazzi scuttled impacts a throttled iniquity of regalia’s indicted blunder frenchified but still clean with inestimable sheens

With twenty-five dollars, a dime an assist and a nickeled reiteration of currency already so personable it is divine and sublime in crazed desist I watch the embroiled natives clash in denatured violence with the warriors of a crossed repast hearkening to an old land much of ire but too much of grandstand to ultimately last

Itching for a holy field husk of peerless ties listed as rumpus and beer, a two-packed smoked by bludgeoned blokes careless in irascible sputters of a muffled doom, a Vegan becomes the author of too many sacrosanct homilies becoming defiled witchcraft brooms dead on arrival too many lionized tombs

In plaudits and the scause of an amplified “what if?” of an olfactory nightmare of petrified fog of effluvium bogged in Wade and in heat it is always clogged, sinewy libations of toasted preemptive revenge become a powerballed hog

A castle in the sky founded on Franklin but scourged of wineskins brimming with a distilled time, a swift repartee becomes the whispered ladder of saints blather becoming not rather other than a Dan Rather spatter

A door breeched by a broached inconvenience of amphigory beyond common reach, I clamber excess and whisk the lingered love into destiny beyond any word other than a beseeched preach of nothing tired but everything inspired of noble love with abundance often to teach

Fireworks of turned tides of fallow tithes to aliens beyond any conceivable bribe the bushwhacker writhes but survives Stayin' Alive without even a hint of garbled jive a 27th floor glass elevator is quite a resplendent ride

Wellsprings knowing radical rolled tides of errant dice also themselves guilty of confessional tithes to the monolith of avarice at the nooked cranny of an evaporated time we whine as the police sting the album rained with songs too lugubrious to sing but in their elegy every lonely heart has a propinquity phone of souled resonance ring

Iterative mastery of a mathematics of love, loss decay and the dross of a dental Occidental floss, the sweep of screened queues become questions of inestimable importance to foreign dues on A Horse With No Name but so consumed with fumes

A fright occultist Thriller prowls in a waylaying daylight, masquerading an innocent confection for a rescued triage of a dawn stabbed with knives in our last dying days of trembled plight

He resurrects only the wraiths of detest, squinted at by the putrefaction of summoned cardiac arrest and littered with bullets that somehow can penetrate even impregnable bullet proof vests the wrapped carcass of the mummified husk of ready despair offers itself a ghoulish and raspy prayer

Synchronized in a low roaring swathe of rollercoasters too immersive to ride, the terpsichorean obscurantism of deliberately shattered fragments becoming blurbs dismissed with hijacked deride the carnival of a summer sun becomes the ocean of limitless love becoming endless fun

We forget the drawl of the droll old tales that haunt like specters in the closet and beneath the bedridden valetudinarian of an effrontery of shackled fright, we sprawl the innumerable caverns of prophetic insight afforded by the pantheon of history enter stage left, depart stage right

And with their insight I write and write, I grasp the tusk of democracy and wage an insurrection against the doubt of plodding limitations in otherwise immaculate sight

*** and tyrannosaurus rex, of litigable offenses leading to pardonable arrests, the gated entryway of a poetic splurge leads to the demiurge of a demotic enlightenment and suddenly the frank becomes the frazzled retirement and that haunting hounding bunny transmogrified by a shattered eye averts the car crash that careens ponderous engines out of limitless twilight blue skies.

Diamond lightning in pristine skies escorts the telegraphic totems of riddled modems from distant forbearance to nescient ultimatum and suddenly all venerable personages converge on a teeming scene of a union unified by a universal dream. To become everything and yet nothing and out of light and darkness to become a beatific beam

claude: battles tabletop.
reaches for maple syrup, into breakfast,
& breaks down puking.
the girlfriend/abortion situation.
the cash
& cream corn.
smells of deeper spring.
grandma & her bible.
to pray.
to eat lunch.
to television &
honey blunt the relief of a sunday night.

lily: into decay.
into dark days of her america.
detox: she breathes on vapor. sweet leaf.
sweats the heat & dead-dreams off. off on wavelengths &
resonance::: sound therapeutics,
at 528.111 hz,
enhanced dream frequency. she falls
into bliss. into
unopened codons & the rigor
of vibrational analog.
love cassette.

achilles: wheelchair-bound & boning
still. gripping ***.
the girl & couch.
the couch & modern warfare.
old warfare: harvest of limbs.
he crawls across the lawn to pick strawberries.
thumbs the dirt for entrance
to another world. smokes a jar
of roaches, as monument
to his second generation revival.
cool.

wallace: & the zebra jeep.
red rock monkeywrenched billboards & the ****** of flame upon milk factory.
chemical factory.
fertilizer bomb///return/
to town & grotto.
porch-light wood & breath of ****-rotation.
the babylon journeyman,
embroiled in plots against the order.
to simply disappear.
to portal away.

Does she know her profound effect, on two lowly rejects
or is she luminescent from some mutual recompense
and how do you feel when the exhilaration has faded?

'Secret gratification, I see you behind the blind, pacing
*******, for the girl above your station
It's grating how you feel so humiliated
When you spot me in my lounge,
amused by the situation'

It's a mad sporadic dash to end, how long will she stand
It's a repressed trend but furthermore it soon wanes
and we're all left motionless, unbridled and insane

You, ******, master of disguise
Beautiful young girl, pale blue eyes
Me, misanthrope, full of despise
Cars on the street, I hear the cries
Human nature is strong, I sympathise
But in broad daylight,
can you truly say this is wise?

The *** of rot
I've been simmering
Was embroiled to the boil
You tried to remove the heat
And appallingly scalded
Your chest and face
As my
Water supplies are
Surprisingly small
I have little to go on
but potluck
and recall

For Katharine R. Cole

If gormless is as gormless does unite
That past of him and present me, I’ll turn
His other cheek against his waning sight;
I’ll **** his Hamlet soul to cringe and burn.

But dripping cannot thick or think in depth.
Blobs like blackened bulbous beads of eyes
Persist on shrinking into transits swept,
And down through dullard pools of choking fire.
Yet treacle binds my bole wood vocal chords
In rapture from such silence to withdraw
From sand that quickens, thickens, and distorts.
Can earth and water’s union mask my flaws?
The answer dares to dream but I refrain.
My name is Mud. Dear God, that is my name.

The foot: an endlessly dull point
Breathing technique, perfected by Roman Bill,
And a tall, sinewy, fine china ***** heel,
Cheap to most and worthless when submerged, submerges.
The tough Elephant hide surface
Of a swamp-like state and state.

Q. How does one become embroiled in such a located province of mind?
A. Alcohol’s venomous beauty and cheap living costs.
     The South.
    
An Elephant on a scooter stares blindly
At its own reflection circling the limb,
Shrugging dew drop eyes at what man had forgotten.
Not once, but twice.
    
The foot becomes a divulging calf of information
Sputtering in this bubbling torment of beige,
And pulsating around like an African tunnel
Waiting to be filled – fulfilled – ******.

    
The knee complies,
                      Sinking,
                                 Slowly,
                                          Not painlessly,
                                                             Not quick.

     The mercy of a lethal injection’s lie becomes
Absurd when one’s limb is the needle;
One’s brain the plunger of acceptance.
His gasp, a roar of silent fruit ripening in a
Mode too fast, cutting life and laundering
Expectancy whilst hanged from a
Whined whimper of Penance.
Purgatory’s whistle blows for time.  

II

A small red car clenched tightly
In the hands of a tightly tiny black boy,
His eyes huge and deep, but white; untouched by
Time’s clock or the weight of granite black that
He leans upon. Plastic tires screech horizontally along the
Structure of a Library’s historic insight.
Below, the ground is dry.
Beneath him, the ground is solid.
    
        Meanwhile, molten muck pulsates around
Our swirling antipathy of soul crushing
Nullness, with a lack of guilt unimaginable.
It bubbles, it bubbles: it toils in boiling rubbles
Of the past’s present and All I Could Have Been.
And I have never, could never
Sink lower in reality;
Blow harder against punishment’s wind;
Cry for this other as a **** filled wound weeps down her face.
    
The swirl of liquefied dirt and sand bags me,
Drags me, as if some *** lover of Hades is not done
With what is left of me. Disease to spread: just a little, just
A little more, like the detrimental bottle that
Knew me.
    

      As the hip is engulfed, an angle of almost perfect
Ninety creates  itself against the horizontal extremity
And puny ballsacksquash entails. Useless yet overused;
Timeless yet impressionable, pensionable. Gone.
Nothing knows me but this thickness’ quickness.
          That wants too much
From nothing               but existence
And the scab that fastens with time.

III

Turn the bottle back and find strength to
Outpour the clock and grant eternity.
Non compliant strength paid a fiver
For a soul worth two at the most.
A penny for the worthless: For the sickened lame.
Empty time feeds rays of golden from the sun fuelled
Encrusted *******, mudfast on heat.
This somehow seems like action.
Firm firmness but cracked with ease and
Non-returnable once inflated;
Non-negotiable on the bloodorgans of salt.
Weakness and powerlessness: *****.
*** for tat, for ***, ***, ***. For tat.
    
     The Elephant rises.
You brought this upon yourself, this rain of mud;
This treacle that will dry when you are dirt.
You would not let it ******* lie.
All of your ******* life: this strife, that wife.
     Your second leg (the grasper) tries,
     At length, to shield your heart:
     The only thing that cries.
     That does not want to die.
     Cartoonish bubbles of brown pop to the tune
     Of Loonies; of your shoebox brain that screams in vain.
What is your name? What is your want?
There is no blame you ******* maniac.
Everyone knows. Sink awake. Sink.
     Rest: do not sleep. Freezetimeframe.
     There is one more timeless point to make.


The sun and moon meet brief: the seconds count,
But die shy of one minute. Clear the road.
‘Tis dusk, I fear they named it. Raise the mount
And sacrifice another drowned sot load.
The moment thence: Anonymous descent.
The digger meets the dead in buried time.
The wish is washed in mud, the liver spent.
The blood-stained hands of Glasgow dodge the crime.
Make speed my sick sad Miller, grind the grain
Of Galloway, Gibb, Neave, Dunlop and Cole.
Your ghost will haunt your tag if not your brain.
Your heart should part this city river’s soul.
The sunjoke frozen, captured, stumped, and framed.
My name is Mud. Dear God, that is my name.

Distraught the family gathered in a tight unit
not knowing what to do!
Their daughter was hooked on hard drugs
through her liaison with a man.
Realizing there was very little they could do
what next they hadn't a clue!

No matter how hard they'd tried to support
she'd ignored their advice.
Embroiled in a life of drugs and the dealers
she was a confirmed addict!
A situation they'd never faced ever before
the future was unsure!

Moving away to a big city from her home town
contact had become zero!
With such terrible reports of teenage abuse
anxiety began to magnify!
Hard to accept their child on the at risk register
knowing they could lose her!

Harsh facts for them to take in the whole truth
in the end it was her choice!
After the heartache only their child could decide
being at her own cross road.
Whether she had any chance of growing old
or her life to drugs sold!

Split from her drug dealing boyfriend yet again
home she had one more chance.
Off the drugs assuring her weary mum and dad
all they could do was give love.
Deep down understanding this was one last try
or she most surely would Die!

Only their daughter could choose the path!

The Foureyed Poet.

mama forgive me
I am late
staggering
my way
I am embroiled
in the widening bruise
time creeps by
my blood, anxious
the will to be is.

/
If it were not for Some
How was the Start of the
And even though some may Start
Something must have
Means automatic did Not

Your Earthly Life
This day
And This night

The tree needs Soil
It takes Light
Air
Water

Just as you Are
So Love Exists
There are Smiles
Cry
Song

There is Nothing
Where you Can't
All the Dark
The Stars in the night Sky,
Even I couldn't See
There is no Moon,
In the Darkness

Why one for Another
Everyone why Each
The inside address seems quite Difficult
But not too Difficult

If you Try,
You can Catch a Few
It's your Secret to Everyone
I think you are my creation this Address
Have Taught

Very Simple
Such Life
So there is Death
The Earth exists so there is Light
The Trees are
So Fruits,
Has its branches for the Birds
Embroiled Nest
Sing the Songs
The Songs are in the air to You

You have come to Me
Together in Love
Is made from the River
Goes out to the Sea
Get lost in the Midst
Of a wave of a Thousand Million
Back Again
In Another Form
Mystery of any other Occasion
Any other Day
Repeatedly
Continuous
/
@Musfiq us shaleheen

It seemingly oscillates from
The realm of practicality to that of blatant absurdity
A fearfully bold doubting Thomas of sorts
Embroiled in self-esteem issues
In constant conflict with itself
Sitting on the fence always
A pleasant consolation
And being a daredevil a fantasy
Nurtured in the remotest miniscule part of the brain
Tell me this aint fearless cowardice

Saved myself with realm coin
Went for the long con with put options
Eschewed sold short term gain
Let them railroad me with true colors
Finessed my coalition willingly
Painted a big picture expressed scope
With mass appeal diverse production means
Bred loyalty from salt of earth devotees
Ends justified by all’s fair politics
Power brokers stole my ideas for venal exploits
Then claimed execution on midgets’ shoulders
Made low hanging fruit that much more demanding
High bar gymnastics twisted words blanched of meaning
Model workers did lords’ bidding beyond expectations
Barely rewarded with subsistence’s mounting debt to society
Paid on inmates’ backs embroiled in endless energy wars

At once at the top of the Estinfalos, Marie des Vallées avoided all of them being injured and being swallowed by the strait. The bronze birds with great vigor avoided being part of the vast shore that hit them as Nephelleidae Helles. Here they were compelled by the Myth Frixo and Hele, in the process of their sacramentals. They took the assignments before running with the same fate as the children of Atamante and Nephele. Ino the second wife of Atamante wanted to get rid of them by burning the grain so as not to have crops. This is where the soul of the Herophilus Sybilla appears to them, consulting the Oracle of Delphi. The Children of Atamante were destined to be sacrificed, being Nefeles who sent a Golden Ram, the children were saved by climbing Ram's spine, taking him away from the executioners. When Heles was going to a great height he looked towards the sea that caused him vertigo, falling into the sea in its celestine waters, remaining from this instance with the patronymic Hellespont. His brother, Phryxus, clung tightly to his back and arrived safely at Colchis. Marie could see some Gerakis and then react in search of Heles, taking time to decide and enter. It was only a few hours before dusk, and the lacerated seventy were lowered from the Stymphalos to cross the waters in search. Marie joined the bronze birds with the interaction ratio of all the times that they would intertwine in the lines showing exploration, supplying what Theus and Vikentios did to grow in number, and with all the occurrences that occurred for the contemporary coincidence of thousands of years, for the current figure of millions of light-years that reacted towards the sky crashing in everything that a maximum roof allowed, and then allowed them to be in the interaction when crossing the Sea of Heles, where she always was, only being diverted by the bronze birds from above, and only being tangible by Marie's conscience when she saw that she had never fallen from the Golden ram, but had been only a weightless creature among the clouds of her mother Nephele, hanging around her neck some remarkable telesomatic beings sent by herself, in egregious tributes to her most adorable daughter. She subsequently falls into the sea, unblemished that Vernarth would go to rescue her from her. The Lacerates, Theus, and Vikentios gathered in the circular area of the Gerakis, leading them to the ancient Phrygian city of Dardania. The crowded currents of the celestial realm became ocean currents that lifted Heles's living body as Gerakis with her wings signaled to the Stymphalos to grasp her with precision. Silently the psyches of the bodies of the Trojan War were able to make Heles's rampage measurable, doing Vernarth's medication at a distance with Heles when her death throes accused her rejection of the balsamic intentions of Marie des Vallées. Then is she resorts to the bilocation of Vernarth managing to see from the surface the reckless surface of the sea, seeing a figure with a snowy white outfit and also a light blue tunic, in addition, she wore a crown of cocoons as a Diadema.

Nothing made it possible to presume that quantum was not bending in kilometers that separate Patmos and the Sea of Heles when this sacred figure was sighted that was glimpsed as psychosomatic physiology, for the good of the Second Age that Vernarth brought for them, noting that it was Bernardette Soubirous, which became immediate like a Benedict Akashic field. The small and large units of Massabielle's universe were pointed out from where this quantum elitrophic wave came, with living palpitations of Heles granting the inquiry of her by convulsions of his brain with small akashic vibrations before falling into the icy Sea. Non-local logic became arcane before this telepathic event, and the figure of Bernadette notified them by its coherence of subtle connection, that lately the light that she carried when she escaped from Ino will be rekindled, with the oblation for her was subordinating her, and that it would be supremely since there from where they would uproot her and then free her from the Akashic field from minor to major storm, where Marie des Vallées would let them know that she was safe. This space was already local, but it was detached from the terminal that made it originally from it for the connections of having it already on Patmos so as not to have to be transported by the Stymphans. Everything happened synchronously in unison, after the transpersonal boundaries of consciousness that were united among all to free it from these bonds in the freshness in Heles. All the micro-dimensional organisms became more than clairvoyant with the endowments of the falls and the uprisings after the rescue of Heles by Vernarth and the Akashic fields, applying the material field that was transposed in great extensions of material-immaterial time, before the immanent Electromagnetic gravitationally that could only be seen, heard and probed by Vernarth when he was meditating between the hemispheres of Aullós Kósmos, justifying nth parapsychologies where space is not empty and does not have a percentage mass in this case, and what has been called the quantum vacuum is in fact a cosmic plane (Akasha). Thanks to this information, it was conserved and transferred by the Akashic field, from the coherent universe of Heles, where it could be reconverted into a Sub Mythological being, thanks to a superhuman being happening at the site of the Dardanelles and which will also take place in another place in Patmos.

Marie des Vallées says: “everything that happened in one period also happened in the following times here at the Hellespont. Nothing was local, nor limited to where and when it happened. All things are integral, cosmic because everything is connected and the memory of all things extends to all places and times. Here is Vernarth who is the object and subject of his umpteenth parapsychologies, which are the replica of the joyous songs of Bernadette Soubirous's Rosary "

Vernarth sensing that Heles was in frank danger of life, mounts Alikantus and heads for the Strait of Dardanelles. Here he manages to specify that it was compared with the anachronism of the Bronze Birds, who had sailed through the upper Dodecanese, then over the Marmara counterclockwise from Kairos, meeting again with the Helladic period. Here it spread over Hellen; with the eponymous hamlet that boasted of the Stymphalos, as a coerced premonition in the pre-Helladic, towards the end of the Bronze Period. Thus, with this changeable phenomenon, Vernarth was directed, while he flew in the seconds of Kairos time as a symbol of subsisting in each deleterious life, almost with the powers of not getting intoxicated with any substance transited by the sea of the strait. Here Vernarth went to Alikantus, being this one from Thessaly and Sudpichi, right here among them Kanti appears with Etréstles, they came to tone up the survivals that would bear Heles after recreating the two great Ionic and Doric hydric colonnades. While Alikantus being of Cretan, the roots he had to emit breaths from the Eighth Cemetery of Messolonghi to revive the colonnades, to separate the waters and molecules that increased in density to move Heles from the depths of the ocean. Kanti was a super steed, he plunged under the Marmara, like a tiny sea to leave the waters of the Black Sea from one of the abutments of some seams of some Achaeans, which were disengaged from the seas that joined them. In this instance, the Helén together with Vernarth continued to release the ropes of a great Kizara that Nefeles had woven for her daughter, from here from the dean cloud and from the distress where she freed herself to go to her Gaugamellian aid. The Kizara was a Eurythmic wire rope, therefore its sound elucidated the sea and its celestial kingdom, magnifying and complicating Poseidon in the sea that actually resembled the sky. Therefore, Heles was with his ethnonym Hellespont who snatches her and redirects her to Helén, which was similar to her name, in such a way that the sky was embroiled by the point, from Helén by Heles creating the watery element of the Flood of Heles that was retracted by the impetus of Kanti and Alikantus when Vernarth increased with all his vivification when he saw her near the shaft of the Doric colonnade, organizing the waters that would rise from the susceptible Heles wrapped in a Himation that Vernarth had dispensed near the Vas Auric.

.just search Polish, England, vermin... there clearly is a difference between a racial slur, and a dehumanizing slur... well... it's good that i have a soundtrack, Pearl Jam's rats from the album Vs., and Ghost's rats from the album prequelle...

i get it, the English are sometimes lazy, when speaking... but... there's a difference between a racist slur and a term that dehumanizes a people... i say ******, i say Dr. Dre, i write ****- i forget the suffix... but... you know... being deemed vermin, by ethnicity... that's not called a racial slur, that's called a dehumanizing term... vermin is not a racial slur, it's a dehumanizing precursor of radicalizing an impetus for genocide... so? ****** ****** ****** ****** ******... **** **** **** **** ****... just like greg focker in meet the parents on a plane: bomb bomb bomb bomb bomb... just look up the story, in England... when a bunch of leaflets were posted through the doors of Polak families, calling them vermin... what?! racial slurs are one thing, dehumanizing slurs are another; ******* ******* and their serf pakis.

oh i'm not in England to play
along to whittle Oreo,
whittle Choccie...
  or some uncle Tom...
         i'm about to parade my
Pontius Pilate closure...
i'm here for the cider,
for the ale,
and for ms. amber...
and... for...
   kasabians': club foot...
i can't be a friend to a fellow
European who's embroiled
with his commonwealth...
Rotherham vassal-postcriptum...
see the V?
see the V?
                          here's an I
to clarify...
      dictate your kleinscheißetirade
  (little **** tirade)
on some other continent,
bring back a curry recipe from
India, or something...
but don't expect
me to bow down to non-Europeans....
you... inselvolk
  (island people)...
            i am frothing at
the mouth, and restraining myself
from biting your ***... taub...
numb...
i can respect other cultures...
by your, "standards", of, "respect"...
but i will never be you...
this... this...
this was was the hardest aspect
of me integrating:
i will never be one of you...
Zeppelins are hanging
over the skies,
and i'm, itching for a blitzkrieg...
this, this... is what
precisely makes a man
enroll in supposition the status
of the enemy...
the commonwealth came
before the European stature...
  i've learned the language,
but i didn't relieve myself
of the mutterzunge... ergo?
i'm not fully integrated...
i'm not fully integrated?
integrate the following *****-slap
from Europe...
see how you like your
****- sauce then!
oh i'm praying for no-deal or
a hard-deal.. scenario...
i hate deserters...
and the "British"...
are, in my mind... ethnic-deserters...
punish the *******...
like that song,
a post-colonial power
attacking a post-colonial power...
circus!
applause!
   something much finer than
watching the t.v.....
billy joel... we didn't start
the fire...
lyric in particular?
Belgians in the Congo...
well...
      Brussels in the U.K.
although i speak the natives' tongue...
i should care about their
fate... because?
what?!
                 my ethnicity gets called
vermin...
   and i'm like...
hula hoop around this *******...
because the hope entrusted
to the progressive ontology of humanity
always undermines
the sarcastic undermining in
the current in situ...

   but i don't care...
next thing i'll hear is that i'll
only be "properly" integrated
if i paint my skin copper,
grow my hair into a turban's
worth bundle...
then... i'll be the protected caste.

thank god England is an island...
makes the whole boarders debate...
debate?
an island entertains
a boarders debate?
an island?
an island can have authentic,
clarifying,
serious debates about boarders?!
you're joking, right?
you want to have a, "boarders" debate...
being strapped to an island?
i "said"... are you... ******* joking?

Love's not better, the second time around,
not with you at least, in quick time I found;
you hadn't changed your frame of mind,
you were  too ruthless and still unkind.

The years had only made you bitter,
the time you had with me, you'd fritter;
I had more good things to say and do,
than moan and whine or compete with you.

My one divorce for you was not enough,
you still remained embroiled and rough;
so you caused me to go and make it twice,
because your love to me, it wasn't nice.

I only wanted for you to meet me halfway,
but for you, there's only one ****** way;
you wanted to be the domineering one,
well now the place is yours...have fun.

But don't expect to see me anytime soon,
can't stay with someone crazy as a loon;
love's not better the second time around,
not with you at least; that much I found.

Get Your Hooey On


The ramifications of male testosterone in this particular case concentrated in Kitchel Park Captain
Kitchel never or maybe before he became embroiled in the great civil war he too took a skinny dip in a

Body of local water some place. Impromptu swimming occurs all the time some place well this was
Attributed to the facts of kids who watched Picnic tables for people the next day who can resist the

Allure of cool water just two hundred yards away and a short climb twenty fellas pardon the slang a dark
Pool and I must say a pearl of its time now Shelbyville has slides in the pool brand new pool come on

Pana where is your pride look at these dandy boys they had it not one was ashamed as he dropped his
Pants this wasn’t like in the gym shower or what the ******* was the school check up us guys

Dutifully walk up to the nurse never mind they made us strip naked then reminiscent of grocery
Shopping with an embarrassing twist now with ******* lift your grocery bag I still don’t get it those

Plastic whistles comes to mind with the white ball you blow and it dances about with vigor maybe they were checking

Your blood pressure by the degree of how far down your face got red or maybe it was mass punishment
For any who may have looked at ***** magazines well let us return to fun and chaos all was fun and gay

Not the Frisco way happy unbridled in this case totally free and uninhibited well until now I give Babe
Ruth his due I even made up stories about him out in right field where they stuck me in pony league

Wow the Babe could hit clear over to the road well except this involved his candy bar you know what
Happens in dark waters bare Fannies everywhere and then along comes babe clothed in chocolate well

Jaws comes to mind the Red Sea never parted any faster what attention you would have thought it could
Talk by the way guys were leaning forward trying to get a closer look some brave soul or maybe the guy

Took a bite before releasing this terror and someone could see ether nugget or nuts anyway calm
Waters returned well briefly our look out let one car pass but twenty minutes later the alarm a police car

Just entered on maple we have all seen pirates climb up the sides of ships with bedraggled clothes on
Well hit rewind have the pirates in different degrees of undress according to speed and in born casual

Feelings about ****** there was the stampede now if you like your news in the paper then headline it or
If you like live reporting then my choice would be Soupy Sales or Jerry Lewis as the nutty professor hair

Combined down in eyes pop bottle glasses over pronounced teeth standing at the park gate last
Night there was a strange report of it seems the ozone had developed several cracks at I guess you could

Say at about hip level moving very fast in westerly direction toward the big auditorium if anything else
Was exposed by this phenomena we are not at liberty to say this is family news we already have been

Censored at 714 Jackson for comments made earlier the story takes a darker turn it involves tobacco
And break inns property damage and loss and a beer tossing clown was hurt after steeling beer from the

Pana hotel the son was involved but no other news is available at this moment.

Head hung low he strolls along
The squat, staid streets of London
Until halted by a throng
Of blossoming carnations
I ask: What mortal joy is grander
Than to be rapt by a flower as you meander?

And raise thy head in reverence
To a flourishing floral sight
Fanciful as rainbow’s end
Pure as a soul in flight
Bundles of them he saw at a glance
Adding their zest to the Spring’s gay dance

Glittering in resplendent hues
From all across the spectrum
Much colours did his eye amuse;
He didn’t know to expect them
He stood and sighed and thought: “How pleasant
To see the world turn iridescent!”

Beneath the trees, sunk in soil
Gestating all the year
The flowers with the earth embroiled
The work of life is dear
Dutifully they pledge upon
Their lives to keep life going on

It pays well to flash thine eyes
On things that are lesser seen
Much is hidden in this world
That is soothing and serene
He left, his heart in gestation
Just like the blossoming carnations

sommige mense siele                                                          so­me people’s souls
                                          skyn van hul                                                              ­ shine out of
                                          ligame uit                                                              ­      their bodies

anders is betrap                                                     others are trapped
                  vasgevang                              ­                                                              emb­roiled

in bitter denke                                                                                      in bitter thoughts
in bitter dade                                                             ­                           in bitter deeds
opgevreet                                                  ­                                            consumed
deur        ­                                                                 ­                               by
angst                          ­                                                                 ­           anxiety
jalousie                                      ­                                                             jeal­ousy
gierigheid                                                  ­                                            greed
onsekerheid    ­                                                                 ­                     uncertainty

opgetwis                       ­                                                                 ­        twisted up
onbewus                                                       ­                                         unaware

The ramifications of male testosterone in this particular case concentrated in Kitchel Park Captain
Kitchel never or maybe before he became embroiled in the great civil war he too took a skinny dip in a
Body of local water some place. Impromptu swimming occurs all the time some place well this was
Attributed to the facts of kids who watched Picnic tables for people the next day who can resist the
Allure of cool water just two hundred yards away and a short climb twenty fellas pardon the slang a dark
Pool and I must say a pearl of its time now Shelbyville has slides in the pool brand new pool come on
Pana where is your pride look at these dandy boys they had it not one was ashamed as he dropped his
Pants this wasn’t like in the gym shower or what the ******* was the school check up us guys
Dutifully walk up to the nurse never mind they made us strip naked then reminiscent of grocery
Shopping with an embarrassing twist now with ******* lift your grocery bag I still don’t get it those
Plastic whistles comes to mind with the white ball you blow and it dances about with vigor maybe they were checking
Your blood pressure by the degree of how far down your face got red or maybe it was mass punishment
For any who may have looked at ***** magazines well let us return to fun and chaos all was fun and gay
Not the Frisco way happy unbridled in this case totally free and uninhibited well until now I give Babe
Ruth his due I even made up stories about him out in right field where they stuck me in pony league
Wow the Babe could hit clear over to the road well except this involved his candy bar you know what
Happens in dark waters bare Fannies everywhere and then along comes babe clothed in chocolate well
Jaws comes to mind the Red Sea never parted any faster what attention you would have thought it could
Talk by the way guys were leaning forward trying to get a closer look some brave soul or maybe the guy
Took a bite before releasing this terror and someone could see ether nugget or nuts anyway calm
Waters returned well briefly our look out let one car pass but twenty minutes later the alarm a police car
Just entered on maple we have all seen pirates climb up the sides of ships with bedraggled clothes on
Well hit rewind have the pirates in different degrees of undress according to speed and in born casual
Feelings about ****** there was the stampede now if you like your news in the paper then headline it or
If you like live reporting then my choice would be Soupy Sales or Jerry Lewis as the nutty professor hair
Combined down in eyes pop bottle glasses over pronounced teeth standing at the park gate last
Night there was a strange report of it seems the ozone had developed several cracks at I guess you could
Say at about hip level moving very fast in westerly direction toward the big auditorium if anything else
Was exposed by this phenomena we are not at liberty to say this is family news we already have been
Censored at 714 Jackson for comments made earlier the story takes a darker turn it involves tobacco
And break inns property damage and loss and a beer tossing clown was hurt after steeling beer from the
Pana hotel the son was involved but no other news is available at this moment.

final option: exit in sight
shall i walk this way?

rachel, eva and samuel being in the room
my tribewords for what i consider family

final option: exit in sight
shall i walk this way?

while you are remaining in this room of memories
while samuel is crying
while eva is sobbing
rachel - dem kid's mother - being desperate

you know what rachel?
we are akin to each other
like characters in sentences:
dots

unlike the undertones of
exclamation marks and exclamation points

samuel is crying
eva is sobbing
cause you guys are in another city
far away

you sent me a message:
"i have to protect the children"

tell me:

from whom?
from what?

estimate: how many fathers does a child have?
spell out how
man and woman
wife and husband

become able to defend and favor their
shadows lips and wishes

is there any meaning?
am i flaying my skin daily?
i am not a snake
i am darkness and light
like the rest of us
bizarre billions made of
languages moral values religions

do i have to skin myself daily?
does this have to mean even a bit?

i don't know bambina
but i am sensing that we are ONE:

blood boomerangs bound
boomerangs bound blood
blood bound and boomerangs

the devil cracked our bound
he grinned and said:
"my lost son i am
looking at you: a man full of doubts

ain't no thang though
i am confirming on oath:
i will be getting rid of your doubts
colorfully
they will be gone

we just need a gimmick

hereby i am passing on the golden goblet to you
there is some stuff in it
to be found in lies and magic"


young jeezy (me ok)

harold hunter (kids, larry clark)

falco (rock me amadeus)

ali (mobster)

dmx (my ******)

fassbender (angst essen seele auf, in englisch: fear eats up your soul)

robin williams (comedian?)

benjamin von stuckrad-barre (writer and addict)

whitney houston (who was really crying?)

angelina jolie (in the land of milk and honey)

sigmund freud (will you lead me to the origins of golem?)


they daily drank from the goblet
the list of my friends is long and enduring

some of 'em died
some continued to live
some decayed with numb limbs
in musty chambers
closed curtains

glossing ghosts above the head of
west indian archie
once a powerful gangster now a broke burnout

but this is one of many countless chapters
my son
ain't we good together boy?

i am confirming on oath:
i will be getting rid of your doubts
colorfully
they will be gone

successful people drink from the goblet;
they are in charge of their lifes
my son

the golden goblet is like heat in the coldness
the golden goblet is like cooling down in the heat of the desert

water
purity
nature and leaves
chemistry and magic

my friends are global
my friends are cosmopolits
by the time some lose the "r" on their path:
they become fiends

but this is one of many countless chapters
my son
ain't we good together boy?

all cultures
all religions
all languages

all my friends love the golden goblet
more than themselves
cause the golden goblet procures them

dear deception

all my friends don't love themselves anymore
but the golden goblet
all my friends don't love themselves anymore
but the golden goblet

devils hang out beyond rehab centres
they listen to the
conversations of addicts
they want to figure out their weaknesses
analyze and exploit them

devil flapped his arms
high up in the skies
cheating god's position
between trees and snowwhite castles in bavaria a state of germany

while the devil was listening to the addicts he held
the golden goblet under the moon's reflections thereupon

the golden goblet was ablazed with light
like a constellation superior to the earthly ghosts of weakness
the golden goblet sparkled

the addicts perceived it
as children perceive candy
as teenagers perceive the defeatable supremacy of grown-ups

they perceived the sparkling
as if you were listening to your favourite song

addiction is emotional
addiction is the blind quest for meaning

the golden goblet twinkled over the roofs of the bavarian rehab centre
and one of the addicts a young woman
looked up into the blackness of heaven
frankly speaking it was sparkling everywhere

the woman suddenly thought:
i have twins
i worked as a *******
i am not permitted to see my kids

in deliverances she spoke:
"i was a *****"
"i have twins"
"i order 'em precious clothes"

a sheen coming from the devil's
pupil
as she expressed her fate

she sighed and said:
"nut doc give me prescription... first i
don't wanna take 'em ***** though
they called (...)
and (...)
and (...)
and (...)

after slinging though" she proceeded with a shivering voice
" my feeling like gold"

her mouth opened widely as if she was hungry
golden sheen

a darkred eyebrow
vibrating ******
bald head full of

holes scars blood

since the beginning of memorizing
devil has been breeding horror:

not to mention the death of g.t.
leaving parents in a daze

not to mention the death of a.k.
leaving siblings in a daze

not to mention when a mother passed away: t.z.
leaving children in a daze

since day one devil has been embroiled in torment
born from the fight of brightness and night
the creature awoke

only in darkness
hidden by the star's twilight
beyond distances
we recognize him

when he is far away from us
like glorified past
on earth though
he embodies the shape of human beings
to be between us
to expose our weaknesses
that's his guzzling his brew and his - blessing

our failing strenghtens him
he be muscle

our illness strenghtens him
he be tizzop

No facade elaborate enough
To adequately conceal
The inner-conflict
In which I am embroiled

No crooning of comfort
Can delivery me peace
Or forestall my mind's
Eventual unhinging

No foxed, tattered pages
Of forlorn loveletters
Strewn with stark promises
Can resurrect my will

My compass confiscated
My map of reason
Torn and trampled upon
My future at the mercy of shadows

No way for her to ascertain
the ashen carpets of erasure
randomly assigned to the tapestry of garish
hope's circumstantial hopscotch squares
with a body already incommodiously perched
upon legs submissive to the here and now's
drunken mercury
Alone she has been left to sweep up
the gravity that hobbles optimism
in the hops of faith around the ambivalence
of horizontal authenticity
Left alone to weep on twitching roots
and theorize a rally bloom in spite
of severance in tune with sparks of closure
The shadow of her sunken chin emits
embroiled tributaries of respawning yesterdays
Queen of checkerboard embodiment
her rhythmic rule entails zephyrs of endurance
in the vacuum of fulfilling prophecies

Under the sepulchre where my heart beats slowly,

There lies a necropolis where the dead lay glowing.

-

The undercroft beneath my ribs inhales frailty.

The tombstones of the truth here reminisce of failing.

-

An Acolyte to the corpse of Babylon,

The basilica spire, lies thereon,

A whisper of what had there been,

Before the Plague, the demise of Men.

-

A Monk to the infected Abbott,

The cathedral drowning in the cab’net:

The darkening secrets, too much to let go,

The flowing blood, too much for the snow.

-

A Coquette to the blistering Brothel

The modern meretricious hostel,

Lays Her cradled head down to rest,

The false hopes of a Prince, there infest.

-

The memory of a malignant massacre,

The Cancer spread like fungus on cadavers,

He tried to scream with no chords to make

The sounds emitted to keep the worms away

-

A Father of a Failure, afraid of the mirror,

As well as his own damnable creator.

The dissolution thereafter commences,

Although none change his recompenses.

-

The Leader of a glorious tribe there fallen

Rotting, decaying, like the rest of the solemn

With all respect, I know not His name

Forgotten in time, as was His fame

-

A “Friend” to a Martyr turned to a Betrayer,

Betrayer embroiled terms of the conveyor.

Martyr’s eyes and entrails are now long gone,

Though not with time, his head absent along.

-

A Dread-Worker to His mortuary,

His concept of death one day did vary,

Found were His diaries of a necrophiliac,

The town had him drawn, and quartered at that.

-

A Navigator of the salted sea,

He lays here now, bereft of memory;

It took His ship, the rocky cove,

His body here, His soul with Jones.

-

A Prophet of a fictional God,

He said he’d save the sacred sod,

And yet no miracle ever made He

His followers putrid now, festering.

-

The Violinist to His melody,

Forgot to eat, His mortal form craving,

Developing the perfect serenade,

He fell starving ‘fore having writ the last grade.

-

There is no judgement among the dead,

Except for what we give unto them,

They sleep soundly, forever eternal

Caring not who lay next to them, fraternal

Are they, and with silent kindness

Accept those also sharing their blindness.

-

The piercing shallow eyes,

At least for those who still have them,

Lack vision of the sky,

Or of the flowers who up to it stem.

-

Under the sepulchre where my heart beats slowly,

I feel a chill inside my spine that takes advantage fully,

The necropolis has inner bliss

It lies under ground and in our midst.

I was the queen in quest of your dreaming teens  
You were in race to trace my grace of beaming beauty
Your shower of love was to catch my fragrant flower
Life was like amusing laser show for a major glow

A fresh breeze of life I felt in your lifelong lease of love
Your fast love at first sight was forthright, I saw it so
Your love was on a broadband channel, I surmised,
On high frequency at matching wave length you promised

Love was in fairy air you craved, cared n’ carried thru’
I molded to your mauls, for I rejoiced your choice  
I was mild and yielding as you stepped up wielding
Rendered and surrendered to your shabby game of love
You left the fruit of your lust in my lap in a decade’s gap.

Embroiled in undue deal, you now embraced
Unhealthy wealth than wealthy health
Lavish lust, peevish love and selfish life
Lo, love is to collate not to collide n’ collapse
I feel sad when our lad says my dad is bad

My love was one popped up from heart
Your love pepped up from crazy corner
The kid is keen to pick up your kiss
Welcome to hold me to your fold, don’t miss

All I need is your towering love
Not your quivering ivory tower.
All I wish you is not to rewind
Your tampered tape on kin akin

Can we please have a moment of silence? shhh! That is for shame
The consciousness of impropriety and dishonour, a soul eating emotion, an inner burning flame.
Disembarked and render anaemic by a queen dark and evil, for with her, shame is non-existence
Blame her not, her wicked soul is the caprice of affinity with being an outcast and unlove

For before her heart became embroiled with dark powers and all the ingenious gore that accompany an unrepentant soul,
She had the lassitude of the perfect woman, a languid ease, the obeisance, lovable heart and knew nothing foul

But deep inside her aching heart, all that she suffered silently, she could enlighten no one, from her devastated childhood,
the sheer indescribable horror of neglect, unreturned love, the treachery, the villainy, melancholy motherhood

And castigation made her seek power even into the maelstrom of the blackest tempest of the darkest part of hell.
Her hunger for power and macabre mode of it acquisition, renders the thought of her been shameful, lilliputian

As she journeyed towards the castle, her conscience wasn't pricked by volatile outbursts of her sins from the angry crowd
she knew what she wanted, she sold her soul for this, she knew this was what she has to go through to get it.

A rite of passage stolen by lucifer from the Saviour of the world
Let them strip, beat, and mock you.Let them make you walk through there crowd disgraced,
but be rest assured that when all is done, you'll be the ruler of all

For too many a time, the story has been told,
be you good or evil, fortune only favours the bold.

The castle was her own Golgotha, the throne was her own cross
beyond that castle wall lies all that she needs to rule and have dominion
for there in that castle live the old man and others waiting to make her there queen

I was swift to condemn her for all, but after a retrospective thinking, my judgement became ambivalent.
wasn't it judgements and condemnations that made her felt sequestered, separated, segregated and all other equivalent?

To be continued......

12/30/2018

The eloquence of listless years is lost on heady overweening heels that submerge reality in a cavernous of oblique light shrouding the dark mysteries to come. Axiomatic but refractory we swim and tread danger and peril because the unsaid screams for awakening as the roosters outfox the owls and completely change history based on evil skullduggery that awaits the gainsay of titans compromised in security but elevated over the doldrums of quotidian thought. It is my solemn forbearance and consistent steadfast prayer for alacrity and industry to conquer the dudgeons of incurred opprobrium to clinch a beatific convivial festivity for a time-informed claque of leaders that delight in simplicity but dissemble their true disguise in open shark-infested waters. Salvage the impositions of the many and cull the best to anoint their favor on uncertainties improbable but likely as the discerning will master reality rather than be the dross of yesteryear. We swarm with importunate guilds of serfdom to surrender their edifice to the chiselers that operate and extravagate beyond bounds established by parochial priggishness that is a flagging patriotic insistence on drenched graft dank with the mildew of balkanization but not entirely as reproachable as some relics of the ancient law detest with misguided guile and paranoiac sophistry that is a precarious canker of otiose tastes drawling on with misinformed skepticism. The hounding gray in the pallor of alpenglow light ennobles the concatenations of wistful dread but at the same time esoteric flavor that enriches the emblazoned gallantry of the few to become the mainstay of all relevant considerations. Wish upon a coruscating menagerie of miscegenated aboriginal languages that have always abided in the shadows but exist in brevity among the elite coteries that coddle the world in its infancy away from the artifice of exegesis and the importunate placations of swarthy umbrageous shadows that exist apart from the factitious apartheid of race and gender. We must stand united as brethren enduring the tribulations of human vicissitude to abhor the diseased rhetoric of pandered puritanism amalgamated with aleatory financial alarmism calculated to swindle the dilapidation of penury that burns as a smoldering conflagration of concerted ignorance leading to ochlocratic determinism rather than a whispered percolated pedigree that drowns sorrows but simultaneously strands the pariahs of time in insular self-reflection unbecoming of an age that demands an importunate, ubiquitous and outspoken corporate altruism not superintended by a bloviated and tumescent dysnomy of congregated botched bureaucracies that encroach with a daunting donkey commandeered by headless horsemen who are only known by pennames and cognomens that flinch at the demise of their undeserved anonymity. We use valor as an instrument to prevent a scuttled vessel of a seaworthy humanity slinking along a very balmy coast as we await future instructions at the apropos time for a simpatico relegation of commercial collectivism. We expect instead a demassified world to enliven the dialectic of epistemology itself and renew covenants long ago moribund in their ragged and wretched desuetude that they may be vanquished as vestigial habiliments to the tatters of sloppy abnegation leading to a swollen piety that dares not to pretend but simultaneously believes so much in its pilloried hubris that it provides erasure for the secular enlightenment of a messianic time. Squalor and riddled eccentricity drive a brackish but saccharine attempt to homogenize the pastures that we graze upon but look no further than a bequeathed divine providence of smirks rather than the jibes of sneering ostentation. Whisper you fame rather than declaim against the arraignments of a scuttled pettifoggery of miscegenated justice that embroils foreign wineskins for domestic turmoil rather than the demotic enlightenment of the abrogation of inequitable laws that preserve the totemic dissolution of society rather than the prized ameliorative enlightenment of science informed by faith and faith beckoning the clerisy to seek supernal wisdom and furtive swank to reconnoiter the righteous and jettison renegades imploring for a piebald blinkered apostasy on a rudimentary subconscious level but never realizing their effrontery is gravid in a heedless ignorance interpolated by menacing secular hobgoblins that ransack barren treasure and cherish it as a trinket for a chrysocracy that is specious rather than veridical. Barnstorm for justice but appoint the abeyance of foolhardy prescience so that the enigmas of time can beckon their own deliverance through a culmination of waggish flickers rather than the kowtowed toadies of a quidnunc reality divorced from proper temperance outmoded but thriving among those that disavow newfangled foudroyant spectacles. Always and with alacrity indulge the gladiatorial sportsmanship of a zeitgeist beyond contention as the paragon for livid dreams and lurid imaginations to drive the mutiny against plebeian ears and purblind eyes. Live for the eternal present with providence and forswear the vestigial fossils of flippant eras domineered by dragooning fictitious sentiments buttressed by castles built against the encroachment of the imaginary foes of vassal states that submerged the world in a fideism that rejects too many axioms of modernity to vie for preponderance. The government is not irreproachable, but it is a primeval reflection of the propensities of an aggregated society flippant against choice wisdom of the ageless Constitution that is peremptory proof of the divine providence of sempiternal liberty. People that chide against liberty because they fear precarious cankers that endanger from a distance because of their swollen specters need to uphold a commitment to a wistful remembrance of tragedy but a sturdy ruddy optimism to perdure and prosper on this greenest of worlds for both the greenhorn and the expert alike. Never kowtow before the altar of avarice and always pilfer resourceful contemplation in the respite of quiet times that engage our best faculties to awaken rather than slumber. Recruit the collective imagination to superintend chaos and the leviathan becomes tamed because it requires human synergy in both prosperous times and desperate measures to foment the earth with the brontides of due warning simultaneously murky and misleading but always reflective of an irenic pasture of withering sheep and abundant shepherds. Regal promises have always loitered in the penumbras of the elite but now is the time for absolution rather than scattershot contumely. We believe in the federal way and the state farm system and we don’t believe in foreign monoliths becoming the pasquinade of slippery hebetude that ensnares the immobilized futilitarianism of ignorant creeds and divisive claptrap. Barnstorm together for God and liberty as those two principles-however squandered they might be by listless speculation that doesn’t hinge upon the concerted subaudition of the deeply fathomed sources glistening with profundity- will clinch a victory for the beatific future of a guided humanity rather than the guileless intemperance of choleric fools who wage conflagration against only their own plodding ignorance rather than reaching with outstretched hands and tenacious grasps to invent the future according to the helical perfection of the past. May God rule forever on earth! A prosperous earth! An Earth filled with pleasure and an Earth that approximates heaven more closely every day. Amen  



12/31/2018

Riddled by bewildering supernal designs of an ineffable splendor that drapes reality in iridescent cloaks of rigorous and strenuous limber we trounce through the effigies of a profaned pasquinade to gallop through the doldrums of time for the allocated investment in the refined human condition to exacerbate the declension of foes but link the Abrahamic faiths with taciturn reflections and wizened countenances beckoning a newfangled harmonious destiny. Livid are the naysayers who proffer gainsay with insouciance and flippant sorcery to denigrate sacrosanct axioms with persnickety maxims that are only auriferous when viewed through a refracted entropy of disdainful speculative mutiny against propriety in values and stances. I sidle through a refractory zeitgeist despised for my aureate temerities against the chided condemnation of those who flout so-called gobbledygook because they lack stringent acuity and pale to the polish of ennobled grace that anoints favor and felicity on the laurels of an age very intransigent against latitudinarian capriciousness that will one day ransack the world of its flickered graft and its paltry obsessions with quondam gaucheries. A house divided against itself will flounder because of titanic pressures of oblique balkanization that is opaque only to the hounded ignorance of wishful but labile people who wage acerbic gambles against the delegated authors of an aborning covenant for irenic reconciliation in a blinkered piebald world. I like to saunter in private with my insistent lucubrations because I know the majestic gestures of jest are more bountiful in their fecund harvest than any circumlocution of blunt poetasters who calumniate the verve of self-made upstart grandeur that I brandish at every opportune occasion to pilfer my due inheritance from the coffers of a self-fulfilling fatalism divorced from solipsistic monisms and the denigrations of the futilitarian quest to deprive sustenance in the exercise of deft skepticism disempowering the perspicacity of miserly mendicants who treasure their science but pale in their trepidatious momentary twinges of faith that are insincere and unctuous abominations against a steadfast God that wallops our misery with the lurched progress of human amelioration wrought by the succor of alien wizardry beyond even the most quixotic imaginations of people who in their prolixity miss the pithy glib sacraments of a terse and burlesque pragmatism. I simper because I know about carbon emissions statistics with hearty gusto and a convivial banquet of amalgamated personalities and wraiths that emanate from the ether of the 12th dimension of reality: transdimensional interspecies sentience. I wrangle on the outskirts of a bustled city embroiled in a relegated civil war entangling plebeians and plutocrats but not engorging any coffers in a zugzwang destined for pejorative scuffles rather than synergistic revivals of the human fraternity, a consensus about intellectual meliorism that will fossick with due efficiency cognitive resources frittered away in the respite of laziness and the abeyance of prospective diligence to conquer rather than waylay with furtive gambits of appeasement. Everyone need to leapfrog beyond the quotidian plane by indulging the oneiromancies of self-efficacy aggrandized by presidential favors and collective efforts to unite the 16th version of reality with the penultimate version of reality. For the ultimate version of reality is corporeal death upon which we are transplanted unto an ethereal dimension beyond contemplation without the horological diminishment of wizened age.  We trudge in the miserly conditions imposed by pharaohs of pettifoggery that swindles with blustery graft and strident intimidation of the audacity of hopes and dreams to foment the requisite fin de seicle zeitgeist that deserves more of a heyday with the revivalism of nostalgic entertainment against the opprobrium of inferior tastes facile in formulaic conformity but deficient in its nutritive enrichment of beatific festivities that traverse the earth at lightspeed because of the vehement energy of foudroyant amazement is beyond contagious when conveyed through the dexterous vehicles of more centralized rather than skeletonized organization. The bonhomie of a copacetic future demands the interpolation of scrupulous adherence to authoritative dictums but the laissez-faire demagoguery of titans trouncing the ragamuffins of cacestogenous upbringing in a miserly husbandry that stunts the stilted imaginations of formalism rather than bequeathing a seminal insemination of a future hybridized race mechanized but humanized simultaneously to accomplish what would once seem impossible that now looms considerable with the democratization of the furtive at a faucet’s trickling pace to empower the future to heed the past and the pastors to revere the eschatology of final conditions rather than a favoritism for aboriginal barbarisms created by the snare of hobgoblin phantasms that exist only to make us tremulous rather than swanky. May God bless this great green earth with many decades of prosperity to come and heap plaudits on the intellectuals fighting the fight against simpleton groupthink. Have a very festive New Year!

Togetherness
Embroiled
In the hearts
Of lovers

Forever
Stranded
On an island
Of love

Absent
Of
Malice
Attempts-
To ******
Their insecurities

Blanket illusions
Masking the effect
When love
Becomes lust

A race to nut
A
Cozy
Little
Lie

The padlock on the continuous barnstorm of a transcendent time whose bunkum is transmuted consciousness aligning with parallax to a congruent worldview is not axiomatic but certainly a veridical property of reality. The universe is as much concept as percept and both properties of consciousness that lead to adaptive behavior are tethered to the eccentricity of the observer rather than the oblong nature of the observed where errors in prima facie judgments delineate the saplings of humanity to beaze under the proctored sunlight of an eternal sunshine that withers seldom to the whims of capricious arbitrage of those whose hubris exceeds the limits of the intellectual frontier because they are gilded with bricolage mentalities that scaffold the skeletonized worldview rather than apprehending the concretism and synthetic arraignment of interrogable reality in a manner that acknowledges the factitious intersection of pioneering understanding and the corporeal existence of realities both transcendent in spatiotemporal mapping and reversible propinquity to the sensible acquisition of tangible knowledge. I contest the worldview of many philosophers as a callow retread of basic logic whose ambition is underserved by a desire for prolix pellucidity rather than cogent succinct promethean formulations that dare to muster the herculean task of demystification even if the entropy of formulation is always flawed by the jaundice of the observers rather than the disdain of the observable consensus. We swing by a filipendulous thread that dangles speculation and reifies the blinkered piebald world of spotty concatenations among neurons recognizing that incomplete associations become the staples of philosophies that are precarious in some logical foundation but sturdy enough to weather the vagaries of the bluster of mendicants who verge on comprehension but pale in comparison to the monolithic edifice of so-called truth when the defalcation of figureheads supplants the clerisy as the new proctor of knowledgeable assertion. I contend that foofaraw is a primeval instinct of community ecology that expedites the balkanization of otherwise unitive properties of society and ravages them with bickering based on clashing predilections that are bellicose and combative rather than irenic and balmy. The acerbic fates of many leads to a rudimentary pessimism or a chary optimism that chides against the fortified exegesis of divinity that can be both proclaimed and stultified for its latticework properties of buttressing society in a permutation that is nimble in some respects but too turgid and rigid in others. The goal of humanity is to become a pliable instrument of a pliable universe that does not rely on buzzword dogmatism or the masquerade of hollow punditry but that relies on self-reliant principles for ascertaining veracity and impugning mendaciloquence with vigilant alacrity rather than casual sportsmanship that reaches finality only upon the handshakes of a battle waged that concedes the impotence of gladiatorial spectatorship as just a gambit of the half-witted cockney witticisms and shibboleths of sportive diversion rather than consequential and decisive reckonings with the subaudition that undergirds all events of any consequence with either a clinched victory or a callow defeatism of a futilitarian worldview that stoops to reconciliation only to propitiate antagonism and buffer against the truculent brunt of weaponized coercion to checkered flags that arbitrate the outcome of a binary polarity of humanized affairs. The majesty of creation is that reversible boundaries can be permeated in a bi-directional manner through the artifice of concerted thought rather than the orchestration of a linear traipse through the deserts of an inclement fate won immediately when projected upon the tangent of any given velocity at any point of acceleration away from the targeted impetus that grants only a partial vantage, a cantle of reality that is fragmented and piecemeal rather than circular and emergent. The most dire battle that humanity faces is the attrition of circumstance by the purposive declarations of imperious authority that seeks to muzzle the ingenuity of many for the deliciation of the few creating an accidia among the clerical institute of thinkers that imposes hogra that few people can grapple with that they are marooned into a cloister that reaps fewer rewards for an ascendant intellect than a virulent libido can clutch with predatory gallops against the also-rans that fight for carnality rather than the ethereal principles lingering within the grasp of many if it became a cynosure of worthy heralded acclaim. We witness the mass fecklessness of giftedness as a shackle of those whose plaudits come intrinsically fortified but sustain none of the abuses that the pedestrians would like to obtrude upon enlightenment to curtail and abridge the art of invention like the coagulation of blood to rob the vitality of throbbing pulse of importunate self-discovery of its macroscopic vista and its telescopic foresight about the future hodgepodge of a recursive fractalized reality besieged by the enemy of linear logical formulations implemented by ivory tower psychologists to muzzle the empowerment of abstruse language in order to make savory the nostrum of the apothecaries of delegated truth bereaved of recourse beyond certain leaps they cannot fathom well enough to flicker with even a faint transient wisdom that is designed to be amenable only to the supernal nature of ideation rather than the caprice of bedazzled humanitarianism. We need to forswear the -isms that flicker with doctrinaire dogmatism and flirt with forceful harangues that exhort a codified message and launch veridical properties of recondite etherealism into an immovable orbit whose inertia can broadcast a singular message of recoil against puritanism in science or skepticism in faith. The bedrock of this message is the deployment of useful extravagance without inordinate delay, the drivel of malcontent transmogrified into the prattle of estimable giants that have stature among the leviathan enough to recriminate against the autarky of self-smug simpletons that infest the world with barbarous indecencies and crude prepossessions that abortively crumple when met with the acerbic teleological gravity of ulterior consequence rather than blossom under the siroccos of manufactured wind designed for windfalls that always create a crestfallen aftermath from the anticlimax of understanding leading to the desiccation of consequence and the engorgement of precedence. These frangible realities become buoyant because the physics of the public dialectic insulates the creaky rickety vestiges of canonical knowledge as a sworn precedent inviolable and immune as a building block of all scholasticism, a retread of parchment recycled over and over again to entrench the past as the titanic vehicle that dictates the future of thought even though the porous inconsistencies of the vagrants of crude formulation make such a vessel less seaworthy than scientism and dogmatism of the monolith would have you believe to be true. The querulous quips of the uninformed predominate with such clutter that the armamentarium against useful idiocy is stagnated into a resigned accord with infernal subjugation of the public volition to insubordinate against a system of parochial enslavement rather than a catholic enlightenment whose universalism of principle ensures a steadfast society guided by scruples rather than undermined by the prickly thorns of abrasive contrition and the magnetism of empathic concern that sabotages the clarity of intelligence and provides a welter in the place of a well-arrayed code of peculiar but defiant distinctiveness that acts as the splinter that cracked the intangible but refractory borders of human inclination and demonstrated the sheer force of golden consistency rather than fickle withering resolve. I exhort and implore the world to heed the best minds that realize the syncretism is answerable to contradiction rather than scuttled from beneath by the impudence of its assertions against the common propriety when it stakes controversy as a gamble to aver the veracity of worldviews that violate orthpraxy with gusto as a brazen gallantry to rescue a foundering planet that seeks disequilibrium in harmony rather than an equilibrated sensibility that is proud to discriminate properly and honestly to clinch fact rather than kowtow to factitious slumber of somniferous kumbaya that is too deferent to maxims that are unduly polite only because charisma supersedes genius in its efficacy to mobilize people to fulfill their roles. With the miscegenation of justice that occurs because of expedience we find holes in many legalistic precedents because they anoint pettifoggery over sensible jurisdiction and face a leaky and ramshackle fate to foment paternalism and divide the clerisy among certain key considerations in order to save face rather than to impose a clarity of orderly supervision that seeks to dissipate the embroiled spiderwebs of dodgy prevarication and quacksalver logic to once and for all ascertain the truth that lurks beyond the primal jaundice of Kafkaesque confusion.

Torn Curtains.

Jagged edges of my soul immersed inside of a place where the sun never seems to shine
As though I am embroiled inside of a cocoon with sawed off edges

And it is I that wails away here inside of dusted covers of what might have been.

jo.

Caught in the maze
Of amazing veins
****** cells excel
Tunneling thru’
Vessels and vestibules  
Mind oscillates vacillates
In chaotic amplitude
Like a pendant in pendulum
Of wishes and vices
Divine and devilish
Wise and unwise
Pride and prejudice
Dual mind is in duel
  
Behind the temple
Brain at home in skull
Will and wit seated well in skill
Rein, rule or roam and ruin
Embroidered and embroiled
Embodied and emboldened
Meditate, mediate,
Cogitate, agitate
Churn and spurn
Nurture the soul within
Explore the radiant light    
At the end of the tunnel
Mind, the deity on duty
As mysterious as its Maker,
The Brain behind the brain

Caught in the maze
Of amazing veins
****** cells excel
Tunnelling thru’
Vessels and vestibules  
Mind oscillates vacillates
In chaotic amplitude
Like a pendant in pendulum
Of wishes and vices
Divine and devilish
Wise and unwise
Pride and prejudice
Dual mind is in duel
  
Behind the temple
Brain at home in skull
Will and wit seated well in skill
Rein, rule or roam and ruin
Embroidered and embroiled
Embodied and emboldened
Meditate, mediate,
Cogitate, agitate
Churn and spurn
Nurture the soul within
Explore the radiant light    
At the end of the tunnel
Mind, the deity on duty
As mysterious as its Maker,
The Brain behind the brain

Dear Mother did you know that you beget,
A flower in my Heart that doth my pain abet,
Watering it for life with loving rain,
Soothing it with lullaby refrains,
Tending to its stems and to its soils,
In which it is with Loves light deep embroiled,
A seemly sight are you with watering can,
More qualified and skilled than any man,
To nourish the ****** diamond of my Heart,
For thine affections the gift of gorgeous grace impart,
Such a daughter never wants for more,
But may in ignorance for more implore,
Yet grateful am I for transcendental blossom,
Kindled in my mind for all your wisdom,
Your perfect care and sweetest charity,
That stokes the gift of love and amity,
When the sky collapse, with thunder bolts,
That strike upon my heart and give it welts,
Dear mother from her bedside duly raise,
To tend to me, and so I offer praise,
In worthy, sanguine, devoted Psalms,
For you mother a million alms,
And a hundred million drams,
Knows Love cannot be count in grams,
Dutiful and diligent on her way,
Dear Mother you assuage my dismay,
Be forever aura sent to heal,
Dear Mother, hear my Love, earnest appeal.

Haven't had the words of late
haven't seen the need
Haven't felt the witches brew
Seed the blood to bleed.
Looked about for reason to..
Looked around for cause,
Found the old magneto
Rusted hot in pause.
What a ****** admission,
What a state to be,
Embroiled in incognito's
Lost identity.
Need to alter background
Ditch the one act play
Find blue sky enchantment's
beauty in this way.
Tantiize libido
Rile the juices red,
Haul my suffering woman
Off to ***** bed.
Locate joy in sunshine
Rip the brain to zest,
Electrify libido
Change the word to.....YES!

M.
After an interminable drought of verse-less days.

It was in wander
   For not lost was she
It was in wonder
   For without sin she led,
The tree bearing sweet fruit
Enticing her
   Forward.
Lust sent a lumber puncture through
her spine.
   Upwards it shot
to the brain, cerebral forms
    into a red beating heart.
It excited her, the
Freedom found in such innocence
    pulsating quivers.
She waited
                  Adam to her Eve
daisy chains falling from her neck
framing a prepubescent chest.
Such tender collar
Bones, hooks temperately fastening
white knotted cotton,
hand sewn dress virginial
White.
Annabelle's life, a melody of
                   melancholic cacophonic
raspers,
from asylums.
Former patients; Briarcliff Manor
residing in her; misery.
Innocent runnings from grave
Dangers of,
                   stark raving madness.
For, today, she wasn't embroiled
                   as Arden's pet.
Instead she was the little girl so born
to be,
before the woman was stolen
bound by a physicians sick
nightmarish reenactments.
For, today she was
Free.
        a starling
                       passionate
                                         darling.

© Sia Jane