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James Jarrett Jul 2014
To put our current legal situation into context you have to ask one basic question; what is law? Is law as we have been lead to believe, the codification of statutes defining what is illegal or not? Or is there some inherent property of moral righteousness that must exist for that law to have force?

I will argue that there is a moral component of law that must be present to make the system of law work. I am, of course, aware that there are many places that laws are passed that have no moral basis at all. There are dictatorships around the world that oppress their peoples and use their codified statutes to imprison and **** any who dissent.

The ultimate example of this is was the **** Germany government who made it legal to **** Jews. It was not only legal, but a system of laws was implemented to guide their extermination. But those laws, even though written out with penalties for those who did not follow them by the legislature, were illegal.

It is a basic component of the human being to know right from wrong. It is the reason that human beings set up laws in the first place. They are set up to make sure that innocents are not victimized by the predacious in our societies. In virtually every place that a human society exists, whether on a group, tribal or civilization level, there are always laws that govern behavior. Even those that break the laws have a sense of righteousness. In prison populations, if the prisoners feel that they are being treated in a fair and just manner they will comply with the rules and follow the system. Take away that feeling of just and fair treatment and prison riots and mayhem ensues. The prisoners realize that they have broken the law and when treated humanely will accept their punishment for the most part. The prisoners know that they have committed a wrong and they knew the possible penalty beforehand and knew what they risked. If torture, mal-treatment and other injuries are added to the punishment then a situation of self-righteousness is set up. The only way to control a prison population under those circumstances is with solitary confinement and complete isolation; if left to exist within prison society it would quickly conflagrate into confrontation.

In places where law exists without any moral authority there is always rebellion brewing just under the surface of society. The dictators and bureaucracies of these societies must rule with an iron fist because they know that one moment of slackness will have them swept from power and executed or exiled. Every single individual who is subject to these laws knows that they are illegal. How can they be illegal if they are written into law you might ask; Is that not the definition of law?

My argument is that it is the moral component of the law that is essential for it to work. It has nothing to with writing a statute and everything to do with human nature. We are after all the ones who create the laws, then write them and in the end follow them. It is at the very core of our nature to organize and codify law because we are innately social by nature and always end up forming some type of society that must have rules. It is also our own feeling of self-righteousness that makes us create the laws.

Certain things are innately wrong and one person should not be able to do this or that to another, and that is the basic creator of law. Laws don’t start out as regulations to govern society. They start out as basic rules of moral behavior; don’t steal from those in our community, don’t **** anyone and don’t try to take my wife. It is this same sense of self-righteousness that drives us to rebel when we know that a law is being applied without any righteous basis.

Take traffic laws for an example. Someone is driving down the highway when they suddenly see blue lights in the rearview. They were oblivious to their speed, lost in thought, and look down at the speedometer and see that they are doing 70 M.P.H. When the cop walks up and gives them a speeding ticket for doing 70 M.P.H. in a 50 M.P.H zone, there is little room for self-righteousness. Most people knowing that they broke the law, and one enacted for public safety, will accept the ticket and pay it without even showing up in court. The next example is the opposite.

Someone is rolling down the highway and the only difference in the scenario is that when they look down they see that they are only doing 45 M.P.H. They continue on for a while, waiting for the cop to go around them. When they eventually pull over, part of it is curiosity as to why he would be stopping them. In this case when a 70 M.P.H. ticket is handed out the reaction is going to be entirely different. That person will go to court. In addition to going to court, if not resolved there, they will spend large amounts of time and money to right the injustice. They will actually spend time and money far out of proportion to the actual injustice that happened because they are self-righteous.

Now imagine that the law was written like this: If you are driving down the highway you can be pulled over and issued a speeding ticket at any time no matter what your speed was. That is the point where the law goes against human nature. People would naturally begin to rebel against it because of its inherent injustice. In the second case it is not only that person’s right to rebel against the law, but also their moral obligation. They have a moral obligation to rebel because they should be seeking to re-establish moral law. If they live in human society then moral law, compatible with human nature should be the rule. If this is not the case, then they are being set up to have very bad things happen.

The Jews in **** Germany also had a moral obligation to fight and for the most part they did not (With the notable and heroic exception of the Warsaw ghetto and a few others) and were led to their slaughter. They had a moral obligation not just to themselves, but to their fellow Jews and compatriots. They were obligated to save their children, their mothers and fathers and other humans and in the end, for the most part did not.

Instead they followed the laws of **** Germany. (Just as the German soldiers at the Nuremberg trials did) They agreed to be registered because to not do so would be breaking the law. They showed up in groups to be transported away because to not do so would be breaking the law. They gave up their goods and businesses and money because not to do so would be breaking the law. There were, of course, severe penalties for breaking the law such as being imprisoned or just disappearing into the night and that drove most to comply.

I know that faith also played a part for many and I am not judging their actions or inaction. I am simply stating the results of what happened by their following the law and putting forward the fact that we are all morally obligated to act when law becomes illegal or immoral.

When law has lost its moral authority and becomes nothing more than something punitive to arbitrarily punish enemies then it is not true law; or at least not true to human nature , by which we all act. In that case all the law becomes is a fear of retribution. No one cares if they break the law for they feel no guilt about doing so and we humans, for the most part, are moral beings. Personally I don’t rob people because it is against the law. I don’t rob people because of the fact that it is morally wrong and I have no desire to violently take from another to gain wealth. I will die before I take the sustenance of another to live.

Once the moral component of law is removed only fear of punishment remains. If someone follows the law it is only because they don’t want to be fined or imprisoned; It I not because they have a moral imperative. But fear only goes so far; when the law becomes illegal its moral authority is transferred to those against whom it is used. They now have righteousness on their side and righteousness has a way of cancelling out fear.

Counter-intuitively, the more injustice that is piled on the more it is met with resistance. The IRA is an excellent example. By the 1960’s their membership was flagging and their armed struggle against the British was at very low ebb. That all changed on ****** Sunday when British troops opened fire into a crowd of demonstrators and killed and wounded a number of them. Instead of being frightened by this, they were outraged and active resistance against them doubled. A vicious cycle was started as the British escalated their actions in response to the increase in attacks and therefore caused even more.

The result of the British crackdown was the highest membership in the IRA in history and the start of a real shooting war. The level of violence escalated to a point never seen before and eventually drove the Brits to sue for peace. The danger of enrolling in the outlawed organization was more than offset by the sense of self-righteous outrage that was generated by the deaths and military lock down of entire neighborhoods. When one joined the IRA it was not a matter of if you would die or be imprisoned, but rather when. Still, even knowing what the outcome would be the ranks of the IRA swelled to enormous numbers. When the British military began a covert assassination program to **** suspected IRA members and affiliates, instead of instilling fear it just added to the sense of outrage and drove more to join and fight.

It was the (Legal) injustice of what was being done that gave the moral righteousness to the IRA and drove them to war. I bring this all up because we are now, in our own society, entering an era of legal lawlessness. We will be forced to make choices about how we respond when confronted with these laws. From the patriot act to the NSA spying, the NDAA authorization of indefinite detention, the IRS and the DOJ it is becoming clear that we are living in an increasingly lawless society.

The lawlessness is not on the part of the people, but rather on the part of those writing the law. The irony is that as the laws become more illegitimate the numbers of them are increasing exponentially. There are already so many federal laws on the books that at any given time any given individual is guilty of a crime. We have now become beholden to the very institutions that are supposed to be serving us as a society. Instead of serving us, the people, they now serve the bureaucracy instead. The bureaucracy and the institutions thereof have become the center of law giving rather than we as citizens. The law, rather than protecting us has become an instrument to protect the bureaucracy and punish those who disagree with it.

We have come to the point where our laws are becoming as corrupt as any given banana republic and if we do not actually want to become one, then we need to make a stand and say enough is enough. I am sure that while I have been writing this that I have committed at least three crimes; either by what I have written or done or thought or possibly what type of lighting I used. Do I care? No not at all. My sense of self- righteous indignation has grown to the point that I have no fear. I have no fear of death or imprisonment. The level of outrage has grown in me to the point that I will go to war.

Will they put me in prison? Go ahead lock me up with a captive audience and let me speak the truth to them; I will leave with an army of self-righteous individuals. Of course the speaking of this truth is illegal in prison, but at this point what is law? We all have hard choices coming up in the future; choices that could affect the rest of our lives and need to decide how to act. In the end how we act is going to be influenced by how the legal system acts. Let me end this with a question: If you receive a letter from the IRS informing you that you are subject to an audit, is your hard drive going to crash? I know that mine is.
J Jul 2017
How to conquer the world when you are manic and preserve it when you are depressed.

I had a close friend send me a text a few weeks ago
Reminding me how to breathe and that I had to get out of bed,
I thought if she could have read my mood from the west coast
As I rotted in cotton comforters in the east, I must have been pretty obvious
Maybe it’s because we have been friends for ten years or because
I plaster every up and down online to vague audiences, I cast out my emotions
Like frayed fishing line, trying to catch even a glimpse of someone who relates.
But when this friend texted me she said something that might help balance out
The high-highs with the unbearable lows is writing how I feel when I am both.
I did my best to put the feeling of flying at 100mph upside down with wings made of silken sheets into words but the minute I did they turned into wings of concrete and I lost my focus again. And so I went to answer my friend and I said ‘here is how to conquer the world when you are manic”

I am caffeine therapy,
engulfed in energy
I am yellow, I am green
I am everything at once,
I feel everything all at once.
Did I mention?
Hey, I'm really excited to tell you
I’m gonna save the world,
All of it.
Today.
try and stop me.
I woke up at 4 this morning
Watched the sun swallow shadows
Like it was yearning for something dark
To balance itself out.
Too much light is dangerous too.
I always like to watch the sunrise before I go out to save the world, Waking up early always gives me so much more time And today I will do a lot,  I want to save the world. I hope you know I'm going to.

I am yellow, I am green. I am everything at once.
I am traffic jams spread out across freeways,
I am six trips in a row to the same store because I kept forgetting what I needed,
Music playing so loud you can’t hear anything else
I wash down amphetamines with coffee
I am now Narrow energy. I'm traveling a perfectly paved road Home to a room where I cannot see the floor, but that’s okay because I’m
Going to save the world today.
It doesn't matter how fast I'm going as long as you see me get there.
I am validation starvation in calorie counting notebooks,
I am looks from strangers whose eyes wonder loudly how I got marks on my arms or how I'm bouncing my foot like energy is spewing out my body but still have bags under mine that insinuate exhaustion I never learned how to overcome.
I am a math equation stuck inside the text book
From that semester I dropped out;
I am heat energy dancing inside shattered beakers, I am weathered worn out sneakers still being used because it’s hard to let go,
I'm kissing catalytic conversations with those I love because I need a reaction to feel like they're listening,
I am potential energy ready to become kinetic,
I am energetic and today, I have the heart to save the world.
I am off track, my bad. Its like an “ADHD starter pack” but there's no warranty or handbook.
Anyway, I started by re-enrolling in classes because I have always been good at school,
Except for when I stopped going but I have always been good at school and I can understand why everyone around me might expect me to succeed, I emit determination from my mouth when my heart feels empty, but I did sign back up because
This time I'm ready, and this  time I won’t ever feel low again, I think i beat it finally
I feel it in my bones as I cross busy streets without looking either way
I'm invincible and incredible
I am yellow I am green
I am hydro energy feeding off the
Big deep blue sea,
I am gratitude as an action
Not a trinket I can break
and today I will save the world
and tomorrow I will not be low,
And today I will conquer my fears, all 647
And tomorrow I will tell my friends I love them
And today I will remind myself that skin cells
Replace themselves every 28 days
So I only have to wear long sleeves for that many more
And tomorrow I will wake up and do my homework
And today I will surely save the world,
I will never feel so low as I have ever again
How could I when there is so much to smile for?
I’m laughing so loud my neighbors are asking,
And my friends think I’m doing better and I tell them I am. I am.
I am yellow, I am serene,
I feel it in my skin that I am better
recovery feels like Holding hands at sixteen and iced tea, And this is easy!
I am yellow, I am green.
I am yellow, I am green.
I feel everything all at once.
floating between causes, altruism is a virus, slithering through my veins, celebrating how much I will do today. Did I mention how much I will do today?
I'm going to save the world.
After signing back up for classes I spread out my day like magazine clippings I'll never put onto a “dream board” because I will most likely forget about them, my dreams make better notes in my iphone where I can see them
As I check my contacts to see who I can talk to today. Or who will listen. I wonder who will listen. Or what kind of game I will play to make someone listen.
I am yellow, I am green. It’s noon and I am flying.
Here is how else I will save the world:
I will make sure I save myself first,
I'll clean my room and go to the gym
work off three weeks of sweets with three hours on the treadmill, I forgot how good it feels to run and I know that this is the last time I will ever, ever give up.
I’m better now. I run on a track that loops back in on itself because I find comfort in knowing it will always return no matter how many times I lose sight of where I'm going, I would get lost were I to run outside because when you are everything all at once you seldom stay in place, God there is just so much to look at. I will never look back at who I was even as late as yesterday.
I get lost inside rubix cube mentalities and short lived craft store hobbies, but I'm better.
I am yellow, I am green. And today I am going to be a wildlife photographer, And an artist, and when people ask me what I want to be I tell them
I will work for the United Nations and that I am going to save the world, they believe me and ask me how I'll do it and I realize that I have yet to start saving the world.
I woke up at 4, so sure today was the day,
I felt it in my heart like the time I took two of my adderalls by mistake because I forgot that I took one that day, I felt it and it was real. Throbbing like a bump from falling but real. I lost track of that feeling for a second and now it is fleeting.
What is happening?

I am yellow, I am green.
I am yellow, i am yellow I am yellow,
Are you still listening?
I'm potential energy locked inside a pendulum
Hanging from a chemical tree that dies fast and grows slowly, Im staggered progress dressed up like empathy, I'm baggage too heavy
I am yellow, I am green.
I am fleeting energy
The kind that sparks a few times
On telephone lines turned pink infront of sunsets in july, gone before your friends can see it too.
They never really see it, too.
I am yellow, I am green

I forgot to shower every day this week but
I'm too tired to get out of bed,
What is happening? Can you remind me what I was doing?
I was supposed to save the world today
I’m sorry.
I was really going to save the world today
I'm taking in as much caffeine as I can without
Making my heart feel like it will push its way
Through my ribs out of my chest
Though being able to feel in my chest again
Might not be so bad. I’m stuffing smoke inside my cavities to fill them up, doing my best to keep feeling inside the skin I wear when I can feel it
Going numb, even it hurts at least I can feel it, I wish I could inject caffeine right into my veins,
I wish you could jump infront of moving trains without Hurting everyone on board,
I wish I felt less like this but I wish I felt more,
I reread texts from last night where transitioning
Felt like fist fighting recovery, her having one up on me,

I am crimson, I am grey, I am fleeting energy.
I’m so sorry.


I thought I said that before
And I might have but I forgot, I feel cloudy
I stumbled through steel wool tall grass to make it
Out of bed today and the weight of every single mistake I have ever made feels like it will surely break my spine Right in half, I don’t know if I will make it through today.
I wish someone would save me today.
I am crimson, I am grey.
I need someone to save my world today.
SassyJ Jan 2016
I’ll rev you like a Porsche
Pressurize the clutch then
ease on the equipped brake
enrolling the steering wheel

On the highway as we sing
Tuning choruses eccentrically
apply the mascara and smile
put my flock on, swing like Bowie

Craze up in seismic grooves
Shift to a self expression culture
be so extreme that you glitter
I’ll desire your ambiguousness

Unarguably, I’ll hold your hand
An evolved zeitgeist in revolution
squeeze their prejudiced little heads
replicate, experiment your persona
Be you, be you, be ambiguous!
Wk kortas Jul 2018
He’d been close to the big time,
If not a god of the fight game, perhaps a demigod;
He’d been possessed of considerable brute strength
And the ability to shut out concern for the well-being of others,
But there had been the odd ***** in his armor:
An overhand right which announced itself too early,
And arrived just a smidgen too late,
Plus an unhappy tendency to lose focus,
To stray from those plans his corner had set up chapter and verse,
Choosing the forbidden fruit of the quick knockout.

He had, after losing a bout to a top-ranked fighter
(He was eighth in the world, he would chuckle ruefully,
And I fought him like I was eight years old.)
Decided to chuck it all in,
Enrolling in a scruffy little bible college
Sitting just off an interstate on-ramp,
Cheek-to-jowl with a Wendy’s and 7-11,
In order to facilitate the transition from mayhem to ministry.
He’d soured on the process in fairly short order;
He understood instinctually that he, like all men,
Was a sinner, and likely unworthy of salvation,
And the faculty accentuated the notion daily, if not hourly,
Like so many jabs to the midsection.
He’d inquired, gently, as to the approach one should take
To addressing the worrisome paradox
That all men were imperfect beings
Marooned on an imperfect world,
Yet their fallibility was all they had to build on,
(A rickety ladder to scramble upwards, for sure,
But the only way to reach that golden fruit
Held out for him, though just beyond his grasp.)
The responses varied, from sputtering and vague parries
To the suggestion that such notions were heresy,
And so he’d returned to the club-and-casino circuit
Makin’ the best use of the gifts I have, he would sigh,
Before heading out once more,
Hoping there was one more short right at least one more time.
anastasiad Oct 2016
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Francie Lynch May 2022
The papers are wet with ink.
Russia is losing it's war.
North Korea is swamped with the Covid.
Tucker is backpedaling his replacement theory.
Finland and Sweden are enrolling.
Armament shipments are making a difference.
The Pope is apologizing.
That needs repeating: The Pope is apologizing.
(But why stop with the Aboriginals. Consider the Jews and Irish).
Fossil fuels are on the decline.
(plastic microchips are in our fat)
I can still buy Roundup.
Tobacco is banned in most public places here.
*** is not.
There are more drunks, and more behind bars, and in front.
We have safe injection sites.
I have robots asking me if I'm a robot.
There are more tv stations selections.
TV is not worth watching.
LPs are making a comeback.
Right to Life is Wrong for Many.
... and on... and on
In the enrolling darkness
I awake to life once more
Healing after you last left
Regrowing my heart you ripped out

I see you as you are now
The happiness and life in your eyes
The joy my suffering has brought
The remains of my heart filling your empty one

No more, life is now mine to command
To appear before you, the person you made me
While celebrating my pain with your demons
You stand shocked, the thought of me horrid

I stare into your eyes
Once a portal to paradise
Neither say a word, mutter a sound
A moment conflicted with history

I unsheathe my sword
A sword meant for the death of the devil
I drive it through your rib cage,
Puncturing your lonely heart

You stare once more at me
Blood filling your lungs
I reluct to shed a tear
Not for what was, but for what wasn't

I pull my sword out
Your blood now decorating it with honor
I step over your corpse
Warmer now then it ever was

A few places forward
Lies your new lover, a newer specimen
Around him your demons praising
I walk to him, waking him purposefully

He sees me, his last sight
A ghost from a distant past
I leave him to Hela, a ritual for her
The blood angel marks his fate

The demons I slaughter
Their words not but poison
Lies that fuelled an old life
Their corpse the foundation of a new life
The conquering of all the heavens and hells would not bring back that which I've lost.
Summer Lee Oct 2014
If I didn't love my truck so much ,
I'd drive it off a cliff .
Do you know how maddening it is to go a whole day
Twenty ******* four hours
Without a single concious thought .
Except as when I drive home
And they rush me
Collecting their stamps on the first Tuesday of the month between my ears and
I switch on the radio
So I don't pull over and kick over that bird bath in that yard .
I love mine .
I sit on my hands so I don't serve myself to the belly of that semi.
I want to get a ***** tattoo .
I got to finish my hip .
What if I cover myself too much and I have no room left and I want more things to stop the aching ?
I'm 20 .
Two decades old .
I live with my parents again .
I have never gone downtown drinking .
Or finished enrolling in college .
Why do I chicken out of every ****** appointment ?
I don't want medicine .
I could go for a slushie .
Am I real person ?
I toy with my floor mat , because it makes me place my feet weird .
It's not because I'm awkward .
I wish I had a joint .
Wait .
I can't smoke **** anymore ,
It stops my heart .
Well ... ****** .™
Matthew Scott Harris (the second offspring
and only son of Boyce and the late harriet harris)
made his unheralded debut on a brutally cold
January thirteenth.
     Once awareness blossomed
within thee Iris of each eye, Mother Nature with
proclivity to become most grounded when basking
in the seasonal pastel of sounds and smells.  
This predilection a rose and stemmed from self-propelled
exposure to fauna and flora.
     All creatures great and small found him bedazzled, de
lighted, fixated, harmonized, kindled, moored, ogled, quelled,
seduced, tantalized, vaunted from biodiversity.
His father - employed as a mechanical engineer with
general electric - heard the powerful lungs of this gangly new
born prior to being permitted to cradle said infant.
     Born in Cincinnati, Ohio, this sole son spent the majority
of his existence at two rural areas fifty plus four years ago.
     Audubon and Collegeville the geographic names of said locales.
     His ability to adjust from one than another grade school evinced
early signs of difficulty.
     Extreme shyness in tandem with a congenital speech defect (sub
mucous cleft palate) seemed to alienate him from other classmates.
     As an outside neutral observer, i watched with gut wrenching agony how he seemed socially detached and rarely invited to join in any reindeer games.
     Yes, a gross degree of taunting left him without friends.
     Lack of confidence and ultra reticence offered manna to bullies.
     Matter of fact, this vulnerability and susceptibility being
the pluperfect target, thee oafish goons i.e. enemies all against
a once upon a time puny punt able person unfortunately at  
receiving end of verbal slings continued all thru public education.
     He graduated without any vocational idea (despite an ignoble
attempt to fail - and yet got promoted nonetheless), and then endured parental wrath equal ultimatums with scathing expletive filled lectures.
     The absence of clear-cut goals found him enrolling and withdrawing
from countless colleges and/or universities.
     Delay with interpersonal success accompanied like a dark shadow creeping closer like the edge of night.
Precious Abraham Jul 2020
As I view my world
I stood from a far distance
Left to my unused Wisdom
With an open mind
Accessing the great treasure of this
Poetic picture
It worth is unknown
Clerify with deep peace
Which clear sorrow and give inner joy
Never the less I gain wisdom
Each time I view my poetic picture


Each time I view my poetic picture
Grace is made available
Like the blue sky mixed with white and gray clouds
Dew locating it resting place
As I allocate myself terms to it
Fruitful tresses beautify with drip of water
As it dirp down on green grass's
Finding it way on earth
Watering the earth
I could feel the air
powered with purity
The enrolling sound of each bird
Made substantial harmony
The sun rise
Titled with glorious ability
Edifying the field with enrich satisfaction
Each time I view my poetic picture


Each time I view my poetic picture
My poetic picture could be
Me, you, man, woman, words
Sure as I gain wisdom from it.
My poetic picture is the voice that address me in different picase for the moment of reality, existence and truth

Wisdom is profitable to direct
If I may ask
What is your poetic picture?
Matthew Scott Harris (the second offspring and only son of
Boyce and the late Harriet Harris) made his unheralded debut on
a brutally cold January thirteenth almost three score years ago.
     His father - employed as a mechanical engineer with general
electric heard the powerful lungs of this gangly newborn prior to
being permitted to cradle said infant.
Born in Cincinnati, Ohio, this sole son spent the majority of his
fifty plus LIX existence within southeastern Montgomery County
Pennsylvania.
     Extreme shyness in tandem with a congenital speech defect
(submucous cleft palate) seemed to alienate him from other class
mates.
     As an outside neutral observer, I watched with gut when
ching agony how he seemed socially detached and rarely invited
to join in any reindeer games, rather mean kids balled their fists
and swung faux pas sucker punches to sleigh **** shay -
so they did say.
     Yes, a gross degree of taunting left him without friends.
     Lack of confidence and ultra reticence offered hue manna
tee to bullies.
     Matter of fact, this vulnerability, and susceptibility per
receiving verbal slings continued thru public education.
     He graduated without any vocational idea (despite an ignoble
attempt to fail - and yet got promoted nonetheless), and then
endured parental wrath equal ultimatums with a scathing expletive
filled lectures.
     The absence of clear-cut goals found him enrolling and with
drawing from countless colleges and/or universities.
     Delay with interpersonal success accompanied like a dark
shadow creeping closer to the edge of night.
Jan Aug 2020
Stranger behind this digital veil,
I am assuming this is another one of
Cupid’s play
Tell me, it’s one other summer fling
Or do I anticipate it to be a real thing?

Will you detest my individuality
And try castigating my intellect?
Or,
Would you be the supportive Prince Charming
Only heard of?

Would I hear guitar strings strum,
As love crawls in to find its way,
Even then,
Would it, be love?

Could we possibly Make up to the distance?
The warmth, the fireworks of each other’s presence
Amidst the epidemic that has interfered

Would we  Rave endlessly?
Talking all night,
Choosing each other
Over Morpheous’s arms.
Obsessing over little that are suddenly cute

Would we look deranged, with a constant smile?
Hushed voices, muffled giggles,
Lost, chuckling into our phones.
The very type I’ve always made fun of.

Would it be a Disney movie?
Say, a tad more magical?
Could I really judge you,
with a mere photo?

It could be the a summer drizzle
Or go down the drain.
Farce and adherence
Have been my metier
Assuring amazement
To be mundane.

Dear new immigrant,
Enrolling for my heart,
Hoping you’re the yin,
To my yang.
one other poem
When their ears fell in love with the Orthoptera or Grylloideas before Joshua, the night was restless, abandoning them from their shelters, they brushed the seeds of the thistle that trembled with the new millennium of the Duoverso.  Levitating their ailerons in the tenors of their birth and dilettante sounds, before an ovipositing candor of the remains of the abdomen that remained in their jaws, always being from one of the Beams, for the largest Ensiferas that hung from their antennas in search of Joshua's telepathic messages in the manger. Sappho of Mytilene, also known as Sappho of ****** or simply Sappho, pretended to be a marigold proliferating in the twenty corridors of the Greek poet, and also as the tenth poet in the other ten that was reflected with transparent wings of the dew that stuck physical phenomena -Saphonic, and in the relent rain of wind and condensed air, in the form of drops due to the sudden decrease in temperature in contact with cold surfaces. Sappho dew was spoken of in Kafersuseh, usually when it comes to condensation on a Poetic Grylloidae surface, naturally on the ground cover or artificially on a dull foggy crystalline, in the amount of supernatural tradition, heroes, superheroes, and anti-heroes conspiring with the territorialities of the hexagonality and the brutish wings of the Cricket that were preparing to take root in the manger to combat the demons of Ashera, sniffing with their antennae in trills of physical-ethereal bronze wings, under intra-caudal grazing of the manger, under the aligned conjunction of the parapets and the Crickets that were preparing to take root in the dismembered arms, speaking with their trill antennas and physical-ethereal bronze wings, under an infra-caudal pastoral of Kafersuseh and under the aligned set of the barbicans.

The Aramaic message comes forward with vigor from the orthopterans and birds that piled up on the journey, going back and forth. The Beams shone from the celestial kingdom holding onto the Cherubim and the Archangels, through the paths of conversion and the support of the bizarre Christian time, in implacable hegemony for the propaedeutic of phylogeny, but more than a perfumerist chemistry and the same creation. carrying Lepidoptera winged tetra and Sand Crickets, on the interlocking and obfuscated pheromones from a nascent-elemental child, in his own evangelical philosophy, from a winged dimensionality and in the gloom of Manger shouted and aligned, before the compendiums of double pyramidal landmarks and of inflection, of his word in the Grylloids and panaceas created in the affinity of the world and of Animalia, stylizing muleteers carriers, phrasing acronyms and parabolizing the polygonic nomenclature of the child made territorial man on the wings of a Cricket, already being it! but depicting himself as a lifeless man in the fullness of a canon advantageous child, from a sudden two-dimensional grillionality. A great Zohar light was gathered all towards a whole in those errors of advantageous terrestrial columns and orthopterans that Joshua felt in advance in his resined ears, as irreversible entropy giving back his wise existence to prepare them for the day of his holocaust. Pre Existing in catharsis and substantive busilis of divinity connected with the Grylloid phylogenetic species, classifying until the Aramaic crackle, pontifying pheromones settled in the lithosphere site of Gethsemane, in a biological sense and in close coincidence in the fording of a big book period, or in the phenomenological simultaneity of Eukaryota and Glaucophyta until late Animalia, giving parental relationship in the characters of the vibrational timbre of the Beams and the atavistic pedestal, readjusting themselves in the evolutionary elliptical of winged tetra species, allowing to change the ancestral linguistic accouterments in processes of the redesign of the genetic historical tree ..., divine and increasing.

Inter-Duoverse, in the demography of space it has been frequented since today in a nuptiality between the Sun and the Earth, wrapping the inter-generational homes that have prostrated themselves to the One-Dimensional Beams, evolving millions of years with between links of northern angels and the south, for each year between the years and lustrums that the ancestors are passionate about, unleashing their youths and eternal ideals as they aged, as an atom not guaranteed in families that did not get to know their Duoverse. When they walk through the urbanized farm of their parents they go in their shoes and from the parental sun to interparental barefoot. The children travel far from the monographic patriarchy, declaring themselves among psychic families in unstable networks of trunk conformity and procreation, dismissing family industrialism towards industrial cemeteries highly emanating from dioxides.

The strains of supra healthy cerebral, born from Beams of deforested family trees and treasured in the Trunk of the seventh ascending generation, towards a nefarious tribal of industrious and vegetating regressive parapsychology, bringing zombie societies, to great lethargy that disorganizes the parallel emotion of the Being a descendant of a Messiah, with the prophetic organization. There in the Koumeterium of Messolonghi, in past generations, the "I-O" were omitted to limit them from the paragraphs as Ghost Cemetery lost in other lost sacramental ancestors. The inappropriate location of our ancestral duties has oriented us in the axis of the pabulum, before the second coming of the Messiah to continue the re-sprouting foliage of the Universal theological tree. The children of the seven intergeneration generations will be those of the beloved of a patriarchal family, and those of the Exo family lineage that will be outside the non-generational family, where everything flourishes according to the requirements of ******-domestic economies, and in the new Chimera from new shudders and reconcomments, the Sun and the Earth being spouses after being divorced from a deluge of immolations and inter-millennia and rotations, further than those of any prophet wandering without advancing or rotating, enrolling and expiring in generations succumbed and prehistoric from other prehistoric ones. Pre and post Flood; not presenting itself as an object to link a thousand decades where not even a holy chirp from the Thrush, praises on the windows of the world bringing us babies that are born without past or future quantum generations. Ready at the glimpse of Duality and its nuptiality with the Sun and the Earth, they will make us magical and creditors of increasing demographics and unions that will marry in inter generations, not seeing passions in exhaustion, under the lawn of the allegory of love defeated. Giving ourselves conjugal virtuosity, but of immanent dogma for the purpose of multi-figurative coexistence, under the Yoke of an individualized Faith, in the passing of millennia, we continue to crawl on the floor of the nebulae, and we do not rise to establish ourselves as masters of the ecstasy of the pendulum of the stars, creating us more egalitarian and orthogonal in the cosmos and its Verthian architecture, of poly productivity, of Sun-Earth and its post-genetics, of high-grade clay, expanding with halberds on the highly caloriferous self-insolated and inherited Suns, towards a rupture of Solar freedom, abandoning us in the horizontal, adapting to pluralism and plutocratic sunsets.

Here is the classic verse-parental liberation from stripping oneself from the rows of the socio-political womb, re-institutionalizing archaic and pro-archaic forms of life and the cessation of intergenerational trepanations, in the residence of the breath that feeds the others, living together in the evolved transformation that does not ascribe the morality and presumption of a thinking individuality, rather destitute of the link of its uninhabited corporality, from the beginning umbraloid in the One-dimensional Beam of Kafersesuh and beyond the framework of pollution that does not configure settlements of superfamilies nomads, without scented crowns, not of feminine conjunctural and ontological presences in the new world of an awakening of an Adam, censured for being chosen and sentenced to be a Human rickety from his descendants, not having ascendants of sin and of illicit chromosomal enrichment.  Made beast, from the inertia of a paradise full of hidden public and private exchanges, but not secular, for those who pay tributes of ecstasy in a reborn and weakened state. Here is how Diogiversality is verticalized (Diogenes's anthological action), concluding the variants that weaken the nexus of the denatured society of its atavistic social nuclear concomitant, extending eco-life gaps, but eco-destructured and of intergenerational cruciality, being of arbitrary passion and of seismological doctrines, of haughty morality and of woven sociologies without body or motor, with an intersection of castes and generations evolved in a retrograde and elemental psychic sense, but biologically and reversibly to its boomerang lineage. Everything that depends on a third life is verticalized homologous to the third age of the ascending seventh generation and all cyclical third life separated from other evolutions, greening one-dimensional in time, for times of past polyarchic potential and abdicated beings, but with spirits and bodies of young people uniting between generations that twist into pivots that are reorganized in intra-human relationships, renewing themselves from the trunk, with a mechanism of sepulchral silence and resilient behavior in the unbreakable tri-generational spike of “ Beam and Dimension, for three who advance in their integers, and not in their fractions ..., born of three and four generations in between "
One-dimensional Beams II
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
back in 2004, year 1 at Edinburgh,
i only knew two Polacks on
campus, namely...
   this one guy who received
a Coca Cola scholarship -
****** had this nag of correcting
me on my use of Paul-leash,
like my mother was German
and my father Russian...
******* annoying...
             growing up in England
isn't exactly nagging
practice... more like a mosquito bite...
annoying as ****,
seeing the transformation,
watching this country become
a ******* punching-bag...
   sad, as, ****...
              esp. with a ******...
ooh... gives you the shivers,
straight off...
                    then come second
year? a surge of ****** enrollments
at the university...
why? or rather, how?
a loop-hole...
            E.U. citizens walked away
with a university education,
but paid no tuition fees...
me?
   ****!
            i just became a British citizen...
although i still had a Polish
citizenship, because, what?
i was born on the ******* moon?!
so i had to pay the tuition fees
that English students paid...
from Leicestershire, Devon,
or... Shropshire (ex Russian girlfriend?
love that word in my mouth...
she was basically gagging me
to call her crumpet... ah... sweet dreams
of a past and what appears
to be the river of Heraclitus)...
          but there's no Jewish lawyer
out there, to make me fiddle out
of my student debt,
considering i hold dual-citizenship?
****, common social lexicon
is one thing,
but a thesaurus overdrive on
the law spreschen of nuance
and synonym play?
   synonym play?
    oh, you know...
when you call something red...
but someone else comes in
and says, red?
   are you sure it wasn't
cardinal red, or crimson,
or burgundy?
           that ****...
                if i didn't receive
my British citizenship
  prior to enrolling into Edinburgh...
and Poland joined the E.U. in
2003?
          "technically": because
i don't actually know what technicality
means at this point...
     i'm walking debt free...
               alas... the mismatching
time reference on what
still constitutes "technically legal"
apparatus terms & conditions...
so what's why so many Polacks
infiltrated the higher education system
in Scotland...
   the pay-off...
    free education for all E.U. citizens...
my peers can gloat all they want...
   sometimes:
   you learn to abhor your countrymen,
and all for, the right reasons...
intellectual smugness i can take,
hell, i rather enjoy it!
            that smug look
akin to dr. steve turley's face?
like you've just licked a **** of butter
out a cured and smoked
   pig's ****?
   my kind of ****...
           the smugness of:
oh look, i'm doing better than you...
hmm... different story...
given the knowledge of the apparatus
in place...
             that hindered me,
and you're playing a game of me being
on a handicap score bias...
    lap it up...
      like the good leashed dog
that you are.
JP Dec 2017
am in a sports academy
seeing photo of their
students as champions  
And
saw new students enrolling
them to bring the talent out
This is
why they call
the academy as
"Pregnant ******"..
Where death of democracy writ large,
nevertheless psychological strength predominates
unlike earlier chapters of mein kampf.

Mine hardscrabble existential debacle
spelled losing game
swept me up in malevolent mindset
far adrift from harbored haven;
I floundered like a fish out of water
entangled within woebegone raid.

No matter figurative bar
to challenge yours truly
chiefly afflicted academic motives
set ridiculously low,
impossible mission presented
to kite, overcome, and transcend
mental, physical and social impasse
rather I remained
immobilized, paralyzed, unmoored
to hurtle myself across
horribly graded daunting challenges
with flying colors
and thus never established
storied track record.

Oft times (more so
during formative years
of boyhood and adolescence),
I experienced absolute zero ambition
wretchedness being alive
spurring wonderment whereby thoughts
of my demise didst drive
analogous to buzzfeeding bees
combing into their hive.

Giddiness nursed, prevailed, and thrived
when coronavirus (COVID-19)
warranted quarantine to diminish
transmitting pandemic virus thru the air
lifestyle change no major imposition,
cuz yours truly already familiarized
with self isolation
courtesy his social anxiety despair
schizoid personality disorder the diagnosis
nsync with loathsome
body morphology toward self
viz mental health impasse a legitimate malady
impossible mission possibly
since in utero didst impair
minimally abetted courtesy
Buffalo wing and a prayer
wishful thinking only death can relieve
some recently approaching year.

Indifference toward self sums up story
qua deadly mindset to whit
resignation to cash in chips
at a tender age, I did submit
evidenced courtesy abysmal grades
and exhibited resignation
where effort to succeed did quit
during stint as student
kindergarten and first grade the exception
earning appellation dummkopf or nitwit
showcased apathy to access ability and excel
stage door left, I wanted to exit
overshadowed courtesy powerfully pointed outlook
within his bedroom at 324 Level Road
sequestered long haired
pencil neck geek hermit
four familiar walls constituted ambit.

Refuge sought vis a vis
withdrawal viz yule eyes
starved body, mind and spirit
from webbed wide world
which as prepubescent
constituted narrowly circumscribed range,
whereby I denied,
juiced refused sustenance
(think anorexia nervosa,
thus these lovely bones withered away
thankfully dearest mother
(a licensed practical nurse)
of course intervened without delay

belated acknowledgement
regarding maternal love hip hip hooray
enrolling expertise psychiatrist
of Doctor Ted Goldberg
at Collegeville Community counseling
to ameliorate psychological internal melee
running rampant and roughshod
within me psyche
pushing self destruction
down into stairway
entering portals of hell
analogous to Earthen bowels
deep within Zimbabwe.

Whether the above sentence incidental
to feeble attempt at reasonable rhyme
so please geography buffs pardon moi
add dull less cent delinquent puns
he did cashier plus
any unintended faux paus as aspiring poet
artfully crafts elaborated gimcrackery,
albeit impious kooky mishmashed
outlandish quirky esse aitch eye tee.
Oft times, I experience wretchedness being alive
spurring wonderment whereby thoughts
of my demise doth drive
analogous to buzzfeeding bumbling bees
combing into their hive.

Giddiness prevailed
when coronavirus (COVID-19)
warranted quarantine to diminish
transmitting pandemic virus thru the air
lifestyle change no major imposition,
cuz yours truly already familiarized
with self isolation
courtesy his social anxiety despair
schizoid personality disorder the diagnosis

nsync with loathsome
body morphology toward self
viz mental health impasse a legitimate malady
impossible mission possibly
since in utero didst impair
minimally abetted courtesy
Buffalo wing and a prayer
wishful thinking only death can relieve
some recently approaching year.

Indifference toward self sums up story
viz mindset to whit
resignation to cash in chips
at a tender age, I did submit
evidenced courtesy abysmal grades
during stint as student
kindergarten and first grade the exception
earning appellation dummkopf or nitwit
showcased apathy to access ability and excel
overshadowed courtesy powerfully pointed outlook
within his bedroom at 324 Level Road
sequestered long haired pencil neck geeky hermit
four familiar walls constituted ambit.

Refuge sought vis a vis withdrawal
from world wide web
refusing sustenance (think anorexia nervosa),
thus these lovely bones withered away
thankfully mother (a licensed practical nurse)
of course intervened without delay
belated acknowledgement
regarding maternal love hip hip hooray
enrolling expertise of Doctor Ted Goldberg
at Collegeville Community counseling
to ameliorate psychological internal melee
running rampant and roughshod within me psyche
pushing self destruction down into stairway
entering portals of hell
analogous to Earthen bowels
deep within Zimbabwe.

Whether the above sentence incidental
to feeble attempt at reasonable rhyme
so please geography buffs pardon moi
add dull less cent delinquent puns
he did cashier plus
any unintended faux paus as aspiring poet
artfully crafts elaborated gimcrackery,
albeit impious kooky mishmashed
outlandish quirky s*it.
Universe Poems Feb 2022
Soft and warm
Expansive
Archers
Arrows drawn
Accuracy and precision  
The Stag,
see the Deer
Doe is here
Acres rolling
Green strolling
Manor enrolling
Residency
Ascendancy

© 2022 Carol Natasha Diviney
Alyssa Oct 2014
Welcome to the Anatomy Prison!
Keep walking, single-file
I know you're eager to see the new inmates
but I'm going to have to ask you to keep your cameras in your coat pockets.

Over here on the left,
we have a young girl named Irene,
who fell so in love with her partner's eyes
that she took them out herself and carried them around with her literally EVERYWHERE!
She just wanted him to see things her way,
wanted him to know that everything she did was for him.
She placed his eyeballs carefully in a glass jar,
mounting them on a small sponge as to not let them dry out,
and she showed him the letters written but never sent,
the gifts bought but never given,
the heartbreak she had but never showed.
She painted pictures of her lover's eyes turning into a forest,
the dark green hue of his iris becoming the evergreen trees
and she roamed around like a thief of the night,
stopping at every tree to carve her name into the bark
just incase that would mean he would think about her again in the morning
even if it did hurt.

And over here on the right,
we have a young man named Hansel,
he became fixated on his lover's hands
so much so that he plucked her fingers off one by one
and unscrewed her palm by her wrist.
He strung her fingers around his christmas tree like the lights they used every year
and placed her palm at the top of the tree
because he claimed she caressed him like an angel.
Every crevice was like a hymn to the Lord
and every gap between her fingers was the mouth of God
swallowing him in.
He worshipped her until God checked His list
and personally came down from Heaven to remind him that his lover
never really went to His academy to become an angel,
nor was she enrolling.
But Hansel stared right at God and said
"what do you know?
it's not even like you've been listening to her anyway."

Now up ahead,
we have an empty cell.
The woman who previously occupied it has escaped,
but don't worry we're trying very hard to find her.
She never really had one true love,
she only coveted everyone in her reach.
You see, she saw beauty in even the ugliest creature
and she fell in love with anyone who let her,
anyone who would listen.
She was the kind of girl God would give you while you're young
so you could know loss for the rest of your life.
Her friends tried to tell her
"there is a reason why the moon hides part of herself away from gazing eyes,
because once she reveals herself entirely,
everyone falls in love with her beauty.
But if she were to give all of herself everyday
don't you think the eyes would get tired?"
But this woman refused to stop giving
refused to stop taking
so that's why I'm here.
Because I used to live in that cell,
and I refuse to stop taking
and I am taking all of you.

— The End —