As you spin this web of deceit

I realize there is no way to retreat.

Barely able to breath

it's impossible to conceive

that every lie you told I believed.

Caught-up in this crazy design of confusion,

your lack of truth

brought life to this illusion.

Was it love or lust

that stole my trust?

Leading me to this path of foolishness,

sown in the silk

of ignorance and guilt,
Not wanting to feel the wrath

of loneliness.

By your many eyes

I've been hypnotized,

brainwashed to the point of no return
Passion is your poison,

and as it flows it burns.

Sanity hanging on by a thread

while thoughts of you

I strain to shed.

You left me cold,

surviving on my blood,

getting closer to my soul.

Leaving me encapsulated,

almost mummified

Suffocating in this web

...barely alive

solo piano and contemplation
songs in D minor to distract desolation
and turn it into poetry
bittersweet, solemn, raw emotion
encapsulated through rhetoric
into the sound waves, into the billows
a letter read aloud, a message in a bottle

with melancholy rigor,
and the finest of pledges to sentiment,
a vow to exhibition and art,
and commitment to fighting trespassers

but please, dear, don’t escape,
the woods of stability is for the wild
and those who are lifetime trained
so toast to passion, stay for the verse
delay the sojourn for the song and show
often rest is the answer to unsettling dreams

sip the grape vine, if you please,
but not forget the pen and paper by your bedside,
never neglect the manuscript,
not ever cease the creation

write away the man that left you,
destroy the character in your prose,
demolish the utopia he once yearned,
a poet’s fists are stronger than the fighter’s
for the writer’s battle continues beyond the ring

step out of the sorrow,
relay the violin’s lingering echo,
and one day the call outside will pause
for a tranquil summer day when you are not alone

The last light fading
Breaths encapsulated
Blood red eyes
The last struggle
Kicking and boxing towards the sky
Hoping to see the light
In murky dwellings of whales and sharks
Afraid, dazed and crushed
The grip on life fades like dusks while praying for the sunrise

Surfer Grandson Smoker
Manager Traveler Father
Daughter Cook Teacher
Mother Reader Lover
Trainer Son Painter
Volunteer Exhibitionist
Santa Claus
member of a fishermen club
tomorrow
or you name it
if you still have air

we left ourselves outside
alone with these explosive days
blind witnesses
have buried their faces
into the desert of time
the concentration of pain
remains a universal constant
the world is a helpless arena
of master plan illusions
what shall I become
or what shall be consumed of me?

and these rupture faults
body-dynamite against ego-dynamite
culture crushing nature versus
nature crushing culture
the soul famine
in the book
of unknown faces

we were all just enlivened cells once

while we feast in our blood
the discreet continuities
remain hidden
identity encapsulated
in the wave length
of supernovas egos

poetry is left with this
apparent nonsense
camomile turns into laughter
and the pride of butterflies
deserves better

this rhythm consumes us
faster than the speed of dreams
the speed of thought
the speed of forgetting
how our mothers
were never healed

to be or not to be simple
that’s a question

Quantum me, O! Mind
encapsulated by invisible
strings,
trapped and dragged
on a cloud wafting
on a space dime.

as if forever and never
could ever remain,
warbling incessantly through time.

We drove because we saw the top of the mountain covered with snow.
Our desire was to feel its beauty.  As we traveled up and up
The forest encapsulated us with its velvety-richness; and the sound,
My heart pounding and the cascading waterfalls, played the music of the Soul
In the forest.  On we drive up the narrow road until there is no coming down.

There’s a lagoon in my head separated from the fierce ocean of confidence by a low sandbank.
The sand dawdles to diminish its size, with melancholy waves halting its ruckus,
Water was never that loquacious, only cooing hastily on the salty air
Quaint grains of mushy rutabaga make it hard to finagle,
Because the sirens beautiful song entices me to sink
So I flounce hysterically, unable to calm my mind.

Her fair face freckled with sand gleams with odes of despair,
Adding to the mournful steps of the receding tide.
Waters once at a healthy level, wisp the fresh sea foam away.
Jagged rocks now poke out from the depths,
The vibrancy of her seaweed hair messy and curly, shrivels.

The timid sand portrays such reserve in its frantic company,
The waves crash on cue with such force,
Predictability is only her turquoise concealment
Ephemeral brine absorbed by desire,
Encapsulated by the beige powder,
That cannot dissolve.

So at that very moment
That very instance
Time was enclosed
Produced on film
Black and white
From an antique rolleiflex

Obsolete in nature
Yet, oddly charming
And on that very parchment
Time was encapsulated
Stored for reminiscing

This picture is not worth
        a       thousand      words
Only a simple phrase
             that  summed    up
    fractions of a second
      
Time was frozen
To a terrific photograph
From an antique rolleiflex

It scares me
That this empty,
disturbingly vacant feeling
seemingly rooted in
my gut
can only be temporarily
sated.

What more is it going to take?
What more can I do?
Because my ulterior forms of escape
are encapsulated within
*****
drugs
people
hate
love
wispy smoke
clouded dreams
warm cups of coffee that burns the throat if sipped too quickly

And those silly,
frivolous
mechanisms of coping
do less
than water slipping through open fingers.

My apathetic attitude
Has been finely tuned.

midnight black arabian prince,
his neck, impressed by the wired
fence
holding him back forever
from the woman of his dreams.
        dark horse
they came for him in the evening
soft, dimming sunlight grazed his eyes
an endurance horse, for one hundred miles
they wanted him but
        he was lazy
his inclination was to stand still
to stroll slowly about a green pasture
forevermore
forevermore, his dream,
spent on his own name.

he fell in love with the mare
on the other side
of the wired fence
she teased him, an older woman,
awakened his rebel soul,
inspired to break out
of this arbitrary cage
his courage and his passion
only roused by love by desire
something a human would not understand
could not understand
not in the same way

he felt alone he felt trapped inside himself
so he tore down the fence,
cut his legs on the wires
just to be close to
       her
to brush his nose against her
sharpened spine, inhale the scent of
dust mixed with love mixed with
pheromones,
for only a moment
that could extend into
       forever
encapsulated in his memory
a snapshot: one piece
of chaotic bliss
amidst all that running
the flying floating cloud of dust
still chases him.

though he no longer runs in fear
no longer gallops away,
lazily trots, hooves dragging sand,
happy under his bold, italian rider
she doesn’t come around
often enough.
today he is young but
soon he will be aged by experience,
wherever they send him,
he has no real home,
only belongs to the night sky,
only matches the color of darkness,
i hope he remembers the way i tickled his lips and
fed him handfuls of dead grass.
he could be gone tomorrow because
animals do not choose their homes anymore.

I've been encapsulated with a difficult time and I've had my strength repeatedly put through rigorous test lately and I'm always left alone to suffocate on my insecurities and feel helpless at the knees of the Lord
I can't find peace in my skin or in my mind and my first thought was to sleep away my troubles before I realized the simplicity of bathing in the privilege given to me by God
I pray for a comfort found only in one person and I pray strictly for their repent as one day they'll be forced to face a struggle bigger than any of us
I pray for solitude in my life and in their happiness I so heavily rely on
I pray I can sacrifice myself in the eyes of the lord in exchange for them and their lack of faith and I cant remember when I started prioritizing their prayers over my own but the Lord is just as thankful in rewards as he is in appreciation

I see my snowy steps disappearing into the
snow. The coldness will swallow them.
The wet winces the snow, wetter than any wince.

I am more involved in a sharp snowless stretch
than I was ever. I forgot that I'm existent.I try
to remember. A cloud is tossing its white to rain.

Nothing never rains outside, everything rains
inside. Everything is tossing firstly before raining.
The trees always feel this. They are existent.

The trees need to be existent. This freezing rain
is breaking the tree limbs. Their branches are
encapsulated in glaze ice. I need my steps back.

I hear a song coming from the coffee house. There
is a coffee stain on my right shoe. I take a taxi to go
nowhere. This rain falls down over the snow blanket.

The snow is existent until it becomes a bed for the
falling rain. I can be existent as long as I'm not cold.
This rain is not a tropical one, and I cannot care less.

There is something moving toward. It's my body. There
is something having no beginning and no end. It's the
movement in losing time. Rain and snow need time

to prove their similar personality and their different
appearance.Time is existent. I'm not existent in another
particular time. I can't come into existence twice.

Effloresce

Lift up your eyelids; unlock the chasm of your heart.
Let the deluge of fervency cascade within you; submerged volcanoes begin to erupt.
A world devoid of feeling; a world devoid of golden thread.
A realm full of disassociation; it’s illuminating and yet so dark.

The soil beneath me pulsates with anger at the core; the heart becomes sanguine, the soul is crimson red.
Night and day bear no variation and the twilight is all that exists; this world has a Cimmerian existence; a vivid look of despair.
Trepidation is my captor as the Earth becomes my abyss; vehemence overtakes me and an inferno consumes me whole.
For a while I am nonexistent; feelings are a thing of the past; I am no longer myself but merely a vessel of something than can’t be seen.

Ethereality envelops me and my quintessence is conjoined with God’s soul; I am being guarded by His spirit and with to it’s elixir I have been exposed..
Cognition is my purpose and I’m recreated being void and null ; I await my resurrection, Phoenix pinions shall subjugate the world.
Seconds have already passed and time has allowed my soul to bloom; it is time for efflorescence and I become one with the moon.
A purple aura emanates from nothingness and fire bolts start to fly; heat becomes unbearable and light pierces as a sword.


A silhouette of the light and airy exudes colors from all around; a shift from on realm to another and like a bullet you hear a bang.
I’m standing here in darkness but my heart is filled with light; spheres of different colors await me in anticipation of a brawl.
One by one I face my demons, one by one they are hurled into the sea; with each abomination that is subjugated, I become less an less of a vestige.
The past is filled with corpses in a sea tinged with reds, blues and greens; I am grappling with vehemence; now the gunk no longer weighs me down.

One more final battle, one more to defeat; the abomination is merciless and it corrugates me from within.
The darkness is a Dictator, I am under it’s totalitarian rule; The Kingdom of Obscurity has been set in place by The Sun.
A prayer leads to certitude and certitude leads to faith, faith leads to action and action leads to sight.
The wind is my messenger and with it’s power I beseech the Sun; I must tap into heartfelt desire and make an earnest request.

“Please help me subjugate the darkness! With your eminence please intercede! Please rejuvenate the dank and hollow! In your light I rest my hope!”
Spheres of light are lifted into the stratosphere and within them rests my hope; I watch them depart from the terrene till’ I sense them fuse with The Sun.
Rays drop from the heavens and the dark fortress is revealed; it’s safeguard of mendacity is no match for the truth.
My sword was encapsulated within the confines of a cloud, now the clouds have been broken and the blade is in the ground.

I sit here in anticipation, I wait for The Spirit to break free; my heart is pulsating with divinity and it courses through my veins.
Wisps of ethereality are slowly released from my pores, now the holiness will be a barrier; soon the darkness will be more.
I tightly clasp my weapon and my shield is in my hands; He tells me that I am detoxified, now the vitriol is no more.
I charge towards the kingdom, my breath goes in and out, hearts are in there waiting; my barrier is my guide.

The doors are right in front of me and The Abysmal lies in wait; fear is slowly building; time has yet to cease.
Malevolence overtakes me and evil is within the eyes, the doors break off their hinges and an anomaly ***** me in.
Strange sounds are all around me; there are echoes in the fabric of time; when emotions come back to catch me then my fate will be revealed.
Dereliction runs amuck here while perverse joy is in The King; He believes subjugation imminent; He does not know that I will win.

The dark has no bearing over that which pushes it away; soon He will become a shadow and I will lead Him along The Path.
That shadow will become a sheep whose wool is thick and black; he will break his way into nothing and I shall guide him into naught.
He will walk along my pathways and as a shepherd I will guide; we will walk into The Sun together and that sheep will turn into light.
Iridescence will last eternally and my love will effloresce; The Sun shall be my Master and in his rays I shall forever bask.

*By Sanders M. Foulke III

Every flower in this garden is laden with star dust
if the eyes that see can travel a bit far in time,
each cell,  remember, is a fractal, a microcosm,
death and immortality, in it encapsulated
Shiva's dance of ecstasy seems to bring
disintegration, beginning of a new cycle of creation,
each moment is in a flux, you and me  and all others
are the ingredients of steaming cosmic soup.
                            
You are my impermanence most kindly defined
complement written in the poetic cadence of feminine,
exact to the appropriate meter, rhyming pattern, perfect
dance of alliteration and at times beauty of truculence,
I am a blank verse, keeping infinity contained
in the only way possible, captured in its grand simplicity
pearls of zen gleaming all over, the intuitive sense
of internal rhythm reigns, touching the primordial boom
music to the soul in frequencies higher, unknowable
reverberating through the cosmic star dust refulgence.

I wanted to shout
to jump about
To sing and dance
like a lady from France
I wanted to cry
My chest swelled with pride
I felt me saying goodbye
to the poets I knew that died

I felt the pain
of the pleas to refrain
The ache of love
The fickle dove
The reason to write
was all encapsulated
Bloodletting , begetting
I so was so related

I don't know the touch of your hands on mine,
I don't know how you look at 7 in the morning.
I don't know your favourite nursery rhyme,
I don't know the weight of your arm on my neck.
I don't know how you look when you are in love,
or how you manage to laugh on days where smiling is impossible.
I don't know what you're most scared to lose,
or how many times you have.
I don't know the feeling of your lips on mine,
or why God modeled the oceans after your eyes.
I don't know why I can listen to you speak for hours on end
and never get bored,
or how my definition of 'home' is so encapsulated by one person.
I don't know, and that's okay.
You can teach me.

Soliloquy.
Entertaining
Ramblings.
Encapsulated
Nuptials
Disclosi­ng
Immortality
Present
In between
Temporary
Youth.

DISCLAIMER: READ THE WHOLE THING IT IS MUCH MORE GENIUS TOWARDS THE END



Bypass the circumlocutions of elementary rhetoric and the obvious bulges into the ethereal realm of supersolid supercalendar emigrations of the wednongues of vogue emigrating into a new frontier of boundless awakening that blisters the sore solid metaphors of a crumbled bricolage of articulate history becoming a reiterative gabble of entropy that curdles the blood-boiling hatred of those envious of those that capitalize on the true girth rather than the flaccid otiose etymology of differential physics becoming a denatured figment of prideful imagination on a frolic with desuetude in the normalization of the wernaggles of ewnastique that defile the ridicule of even the most astute aspirations of those that despise history rather than reveling in its subtle ironies that swelter in connotation rather than suborn the cadged bridewells of those that are estranged by the Dousk Remix rather than the Voulez-Vouz Danser populism of true urbacity expanded upon a national stage as an anthem not for profligate saturnalia but rather an ode to the odium of the reckless titanism of titanic intellects clashing with the dudgeons of intermittent eye-rolling irreverence double-dealing a stacked deck of pleckigger on an intellectual stagecraft for bandwagon apostasy that leads to solidarity among tentative allegiance. We barnstorm for a grift in the grimace of an alpenglow winter to lead to the salvation of all people united under the banner of neat nexility rather than long-winded elocution reserved only for notched caliber against the nativist diatribe that serves the subservience of the engineer of the white chattel indoctrinated into turnstiles of professed irreverence for demarches of solidarity that is gainsay for gain rather than pittances for pitfall. Rhetoric should be duly curtailed against the overcomplication of hypertrophy and trimmed into the sweet success not of saccharine fads of foofaraw but engineered resistance that galvanizes albatross intellectualism into a revved engine without purpose that mobilizes because of estranged impotence in the revelry of the subtle rather than the cordial tethers of emergent entelechy of the esemplastic orthobiosis that we should all strive for not just as pioneers of the socially engineered harbingers of a remedial society but also for the trendsetters that communicate with the canvass and the celluloid rather than spelunking dormitage of drifted anomaly perceptible to everyone but heralded as prominent by the rigged ambeer of a toxicity of a plumage of city over state and country over planet. We need to provide the verdure of the verdant forest that survives the conflagrations of rage indoctrinated by systematic attempts at stilted ignorance that is engendered more by Leftism than Right-Wing thinkers because in general when observed in organic settings we notice that the Right-Wing escapes the sloganeered jaundice of limited bounds for otherwise boundless thought and provides more seminal pathways that reconcile normative virtues with entrenched inveterate harbingers of economic success. The faulty deadstocks that propel the retinoise of the anomaly among Leftism to disregard the girouettism of a world that is so piebald with dishonesty that it elects a patronage that seethes with passion but aimless in its curiosity for deeper embedded candor because the popular might count themselves among the aristocratic Left but the truly Promethean belong to a centrist tribe that borrows the ingenuity of spurned but never spurious interpretations of a sputtered history that remarks with revelry  rather than disdains with #CancelCulture irreverence that seeks to deracinate all context for insipid utopianism that is a shared prerogative of the delusional Left against their complaints of Sebastomania among right-wing zealots that are equally invalidated by the frogmarch of a dilettante history curbed in storms of a pure tempest rather than a banal reiteration of novelty phrased with participant intonation rather than blathers of whispered arbitrage ennobled by hypocrisy immune to criticism among those that crusade for economic justice without understanding formal flombricks of the true gnomic riddles of alchemy fundamental to global panoramic pleonasms becoming the aleatory vagary of admonished warning that spars against spartanism. Instead of pilfering from the exorbitant defalcation of immunized partisan bromides against the ratcheted warranty upon defective obsolescence we must coalesce around the imperious ****** of divinity bequeathing the living water of a fully-lived life that qualifies its felicity not by junctures but by an overall harmony that conforms to the finicky demands of an overly polarized complexion of dimpled conformity founded on girouettism that earns more traction than the deasil sundial emergence of brimstone rejection for alabaster limelight we must urge others to ditch the conformist utilitarian usucaption of the usufruct of manipulative sports for domineering talents suborned into inclement straits because of unwitting albatross that replicates into a fission of uniformity encapsulated in the half-assed witticisms of attempted belletrist succeeding only in alienating the noxious fumes of alveolate diminutive reduction rather than expansive detritus that scrapes the wreckage of a turmoil to build masterworks out of broken sculptures themselves indemnified from a categorical judgment by the panoramic oversight of proctored civilized ambition. We need to exhort self-education that hinges upon not a listless acquiescence to a second-exit impulsive barnacle to the urchins of brimstone because of an insipid blather of flapdoons of brittle banality because the hackencrude is an outmoded entity to the vast resources of the sizable capital of the growing power of the intelligentsia over the weakened grasp and wrangle of terminus meeting consuetude weakly enough with pleasantry to appease but ultimately a complete witwanton persiflage of sizzled destruction rather than the savory contemplation of the cotqueans of majesty derided but never derailed by terminal revivals because the generativity of the titanic original might not be a popular indoctrination but the liberated thought of the untethered is ultimately more decisive in world affairs than the synergistic hive of bees building an imperious defense against dynasty built only upon provincial hatred of hidebound illiteracy combustible into the brazen bravado of a reckless intrepid effrontery against civilized chains into the ******* of complicit interconnection rather than dissolved dissolutions that solve global problems more fundamentally rather than driving through avenues of wide pressures gilded with expansive growth but ultimately bereaved by the ultimate succor of the youthful exuberance of captive audiences rather than the wily connivance of genius unbounded. God is obviously a benevolent provider of all bounties and despite the conspiracies that predicate heterodoxy the uniform mannequin of a mascot Democracy ultimately becomes a fickle bandwagon allegiance to relationship rather than a true witness to authentic ******* to a subservient relationship to a creative God synergized with energies that should exceed all galloped windlass into demarche and expose rather than rundles of ridicule interminable because of the permanence of kitsch memorial rather than living sculpture that breathes a swiveled light that beckons preened self-accountable responsibility to a dutiful matriotic duty of optimism rather than a contrarian futility of those that despise the unequal suave crackjaw dementia of the temulentia of derangement among crowds that provide fewer bounties and more deprivations calculated to indenture need rather than motivate want. We must motivate want by fueling ambition rather than quelling dissent in defensive posture because that strategy of antinomian discord is a dead-end street against an inveterate enmity that can never be fully deposed but only opposed with nominal futility raging with violence rather than seething with the motivation to reform because reform is an efficacy mobilized. Novelty of wednongue propriety grown through the heirs of drastic impertinence gilded from the siphon of lavadero hypogeiody blasphemous in bletonism that guards a piebald scrivelo because the sought dementia of an overwrought alacrity is a purpose without a terminus but an ambition soaring through scraped ice cream stratosphere that marvels at the minutiae of the civilized anthill that becomes a beehive of industry when the rationale of moral reform becomes insuperable rather than suborned into effete recursive cycles of pittances of pitfalls obsessively pondered but never solved because the fustilugianation of a forever tampered travesty is the esemplastic rejection of a categorical aim that leans of windlasses of elegance that surpass the levy of hatred and achieve sizable filagersion to squirm above the squawk upon populace rather than the consternation of an urbane but cloistered metropolitan arrogance contravened by the historical emergence of happenstance locales fostering the most well-guarded treasures of bohemian pedigree rather than dimpled resolve faffling on ergasia in bromidrosis rather than cavorting with a skeptical indoctrination by default evaded by those that equate an improbable scenario with a definitive solution to acatalepsy quandary because by reckoning with indeterminacy we grow in historical lineaments and solve global detritus by recycling the rattled brevity of promontory preens of plumage into a recursive ostentation defalcating heavily from sturdy macroeconomic proofs of the trendsetter rather than the trend and therefore grapple with profound personalized disdain rather than cordial harmony. Essentially by the logical positivism of proof we remind ourselves that obviously a chattering blather swims in tentative irony as long as it is a penultimate relativity because the lack of capstone ensures that the relevant treads beneath the mountain of rapprochement in benign endeavors to survive and thrive in definitive conclusion rather than intermediary conclusions of amnesia in jaundice. By the gnomic apothegms that guard the fortress of the demassified we have quantulated that the preposition of continuance is in fact a guarantee of the fickle supremacy of the recent and even more preponderantly the supremacy of expectancy of latent junctures that never manifest becoming a dictatorial rule of driven alacrity of wastrels that should fast from conclusive opinion and rather favor the primordial fabric of the inveterate truths rounded by the conversion of alchemy solidified by calculated canon converging with esoteric apartheid against the simultagnosia of the simpleton drivel of primordial myths bowdlerized from history neither lewd nor depraved but moribund because of the conclusive ****** of a peremptory intermediary certainty predicating a more precise foresight. The lackluster luster of numinous foghorn subliminal graft is a nativist confusion of legionnaire mettle swaddled by the cosseted grasp of interminable boundaries that demarcate linear time even when supersolid filigrees of elemental confusion erratically swerve into oblivion that becomes a forestalled happenstance so hapless that the connivance of alveolate synergies necessarily precludes event from becoming indelible because the tentative judgment wallops the tributary incontinence of the warble of axiolative jaundice materialized by crystalline fabrication neutered by soundbyte sclerotic calculus inveterate in summations of conclusion only because of peremptory weights upon geometric certainties rather than logarithmic dampers of attenuation that spar against spartan priggish epithets upon the flamboyant grit of grisly specter of speculative sepulchral venal vanity. The timberlask cineaste irony of the partisan usucaption of sapwood is a pirated timber of startled alarm becoming a useful or useless cacophony of barnstorm for the deadstock of past cadasters of rigmarole in the docimasy of pretense in impartial circumstance in specialized oratory bounded by a hemmed bailiwick of verdure denatured by the flombricks of subtle persuasion that ignores minority fringes of opinion that occupy that majority that cowcatchers brush aside rather with cruel contemptuous unkempt slippery agenda for drivel that spawns ingeminated redoubled explosions in participle bias rather than conglomerate arraignment of arrayed brooked swamps turgid not with the pettier travesty but the charade of a brokered ceremonial calculation against the wrikpond spurious by degeneration into corruptible complicity that thrives in obscurantism but never obscurity when the omnified owns a capitalized swiftboat of never a temulentia but always an optimism in the curvature of lineaments into the self-educated shepherd of the ultimate autarky rather than insubordination in the scrappy schlep of demographic ripples of swift enrichment at great personal flops in the floppy disk of a Democratic enrichment rather than a parched rectiserial hidebound tome. A quirky time stanched by tomes of patricide against family ingratiated by parrots to anthem but lacking the lettered verve of ignoble but parsed parsecs of finite light captivated into prismatic conscience we launch the demerited ploys of foible into the heralded controversy rather than the unheralded mercenary hands behind dogmatic ripostes livid because of the suave prestidigitation of the sublime mastery of the syncopated irony of mismatch attuned to radical rhythm we become bloated slaves to a rich lineage decried widely in attempts of covert coup raxes of a largesse of continual primipara perversions of courted cotqueans of uxorious justice that by defalcating from tributary orthobiosis in specious conjecture esteemed by rattled martexts aspiring for fraternal solidarity with the ****** esteem masquerading as the auctioned flivver that the merchandise of fluminous optimism cannot be an effusive blanch of blarney bolstered by bumptious bromides of brunt blackmail but rather the artform of subterfuge needs the insidious and invidious traction of creepy Thriller subtlety to garner the vapid traction of immobilized discontent foster to malcontent rarely abridged by even the most polite courtesy of diplomacy because of inherently insatiable demand that it skulks in undetected quarters flexing in the shadowy penumbra of transparent crackjaw enigma becoming an obvious blister or a gabble of raw jaundice sweltering into thermolysis by the eventual convergence rather than the improbable divergence of fissile time beckoning its own flashy revolution while denaturing the very presence of delusion as a herald more of the authenticity of animadversion rather than the sclerotic carapace of ragged asphyxiation in the aplomb whisper entombed forever by milquetoast inefficacy in hypersensitivity rather than a flourished malfeasance of a predatory grip upon seizure among catatonic graves of incontinence braving tribulation for crucibles of the most prosodemic surgeries of the furtive froward recalcitrance of deliberation in ignominy that enables that transmogrified skyscraper of Titanic lies to become a sunken vessel of harbored prestige lost on penultimate dice rather than winning pokerish villiany. Essentially the jeer of Morel Under a Disco is a winning brandished authority to chug the capers of inscrutable difference in blandishment imposture to cavort with an elegant plot twist that enthralls abiding decay to revert into a primordial confidence of livelihood to deter the frogmarch of time into the despairing quagmires of a livid balkanization of a simultagnosia of ageotropic monoideism fomented on fervor that leads to the paralysis of privacy and the expedited furor of moribund depraved proclivity so that the offset of morale and rationale can outfit civilization to brave the tempests of cordial divisions cemented by courtesy in order to safeguard against the yeggs of paranoia seeking ultimately the craven caper of disillusioned subconsciously felt retraction of indelible deeds into evaporated constructs that vanish too quickly to spawn the vigor of a cadged and utilitarian expanse of reiterative generativity that sustains the spanned sapience of primordial alacrity to ensure that brevity in outlook becomes longevity in subsistence because without a logical positivism grounded in unshakable tenets of God the demoralization of the vast majority is ensured and entombed in aimless squalor that leads to sheepish temerity compounded by wistful latency in regretful regression rather than a spandex bluster of a bravado of obesity to weather the persnickety wednongues of perdurable badges of instinctual shame slandered into prima facie denatured transmogrified cultures seeking cosmogony out of ordinary bricolage because the eventful triage of the nimble eludes parochial sight while the vastly capable outfox and outpace with such frenetic verve that they fasten against accident and transcend against heterochrony in ridicule that the unseasonable but seminal sauce flavors better the partially indentured optimism of a curated matriotism better than it serves the obviously interminable cycle of listless demiurges of malcontent that fuel conflagration rather than reformation to their own remorseful peril. Thereby, it is obviously concluded that to micromanage a society you must exert the capacity of a selective magnetism obviously predicated on demassified capacities for oaths of gratitude to endear and endure in the humane heart for the majority that sway few but encounter many that they find proper scruple grounded on axiomatic God to sustain not a lifeless priggish inclination but a bounded felicity that is not a carapace of an indigenous and insidious decadence to the extent pursuits of happiness swelter among the marginalized majority bereaved in powerless squalor slave to temptation not to derelict fascination but to provide aim to aimlessness and predicate their worldviews not on Racial Identity Theory which postulates too many counterintuitive pessimisms that are essentially neutered fustilug predicates of a world that requires such drastic seismic reforms in societal dynamics that the earthquake capable of such a realignment would exceed a 10.5 on the Richter scale which is 32x more powerful than the biggest earthquake in recorded history that would be so catastrophic in its implicit implication of the pretense that the consummation of the theory achieves the traction necessary to jostle every crowd into alignment that the collateral damage would endanger the very integrity and vitality of the Republic itself while exerting a tremendous existential dread of radical permutation that enables many travesties that abnegate the prerogatives of a privileged society in search of a facetiously engineered impossible utopia that could only be achieved by a dictatorial authoritarianism working in concert with benumbed sloganeering to engineer pessimism and malcontent rather than nurture the fair-natured optimism of a society that flourishes because it assumes naturally that the universe conspires in the favor of prosperity. If any hint of casuistry is evident in these postulates I wouldn’t be surprised but for rhetorical sanctity it is necessary for a nation bereaved of national icons not to despise the captive imagination of tyrannical transparency but grow from the liberating and partially liberal parable of a life maximized in limber for romantic enthralled growth that heralds with due consideration the paragons of time with reverence rather than soundbyte enslavement of parochial interminable twinges of a newborn and widely shared collective guilt of a decisively antinomian and pessimistic view on the evolution of human societies beyond catchy kitsch verve nexilities of bravado mutilating thirsts for inclusive mandates that are Boa Constrictors prowling with serpentine vitriol to vastly over-represent extreme fringes to dissuade nuclear families in an overt ploy of depopulation because the truer pathway to liberation is one that feeds the hot hand in the casino and bets that the winners will always win by deregulating their ability to bet large sums because of a transcendent supersolid mastery of time that the march and demarche of a boundless prosperity gouged by the fair demands of egalitarianism enables the card counter to achieve such a decisive advantage that his indentured socially coerced eleemosynary inclination to feed the flock endures throughout all epochs because of the necessary and incumbent scruples of God-fearing men to distribute their winnings won by cheating time to conquer time itself.

Today I was born again,
To live in somebodies head,
I lived the way he would for a day,
But no more...
I'm out of spirit and I'm out of head,
Nothing short of a miracle,
I'm thankful for every breath I take,
Unlike the others,
I've died and come alive,
Encapsulated in the jar,
In that soulful sound,
Protruded in the absolute,
Thirst for knowledge.

When I think of my future

I see love
joy
people
me.

When I smile about my future I fall into a trance,
it's encapsulated by friends
family
my babies :)

Happiness will prevail.
The moon will glimmer with passion
and rays of love will reach me.

I will live
love
and laugh.

My growth will be determined by my worth.
My worth being goals
dreams
and ambition.

I'll be free
awesome
and cheerful.

I will be me :)
And she'll be there :)
We'll BE together ^_^

She is the raconteur.
Her presence is boisterous,
Words lack to depict her beauty,
Or does it relish the redundancy.
She is the replica of rapture.
The eternity that is encapsulated in her eyes.
Her benevolence is bolstering,
Her gestures are sporadically jesting,
Her looks are lavish,
Her voice is tranquilizing,
Her touch is tingling,
Her walks are wallowing,
when she strolls in the street,
entangled eyes ogle at her.
(her dimpled face,her cramped dress)
................................
.........................­.......
This persuasion is to her as
She leans herself in his arms,
With her neck unbend on his shoulder,
and strand of hair leaping on his lips,
as she then aligns herself  poking him passionately,
admist gazes with her enlarged engulfing eyes,
by which he is transfixed and couldn't answer her no more
when she questions him "How do I look",
With the wry suggestive smile on her visage....

When can I ever have you,
Freedom?
They have deprived me of you
for 23 long years,
and still counting.

I am guarded,
side by side.
One from my very own blood line,
another from my very own
“brand of heroine”.

I feel suffocated,
encapsulated by
my own trust issues.
And now, I am nothing,
but ******.UP.

Wrenched and alone.
Corkscrewed.