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There it was on the calendar, Saturday May 11,2013. Big red circle around the date and written in black pen in the middle…SPELLING BEE. Plain as day, you couldn’t miss it. One of the biggest days of the school year for geeks and nerds alike.





Today was the day. In two hours, The 87th Annual Cross Cultural Twin Counties Co-Educational Public School Spelling Bee, would begin.  This was a huge event in the history of Thomas Polk Elementary School. It would be one of the biggest, if not THE BIGGEST in the history of The Twin Counties.



There would be twenty-one schools represented with their best and brightest spellers. The gymnasium would be full of parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and media representatives. Yes, invitations had been sent out to both of the local papers in The Twin Counties, and both had replied in the affirmative. Real media, in Thomas Polk Elementary School, with a shared photographer….the big time had come to town.



Inside the gymnasium, work had been going on all night in preparation of the big event. The Teachers Auxiliary Group had set up bunting across the stage, purple and white of course, for the school colours. The school colours were actually purple and cream, but, there was a wedding at Our Lady of The Weeping Sisters Baptist Church later, and they had emptied the sav-mart of all of the cream coloured bunting and crepe paper. So, white it would be.



It looked spectacular. There were balloons tied to the basketball net at the south end of the gym. It wouldn’t wind up after the last game, so something had to be done to hide it. Balloons fit the bill. There was three levels of benches on the stage for the competitors, a microphone dead center stage and two 120 watt white spot lights aimed at the microphone.  Down in front, was a judges table, also covered in bunting and crepe, with a smaller microphone sitting in the middle. There was a cord connecting it to the stage speaker system, taped to the gym floor with purple duct tape, just to fit in. Big time, big time.



The piece de resistance sat at the right side of the judges table. An eight foot high pole, with an electronic stop watch and two traffic lights, donated from the local public utilities commission, in red and green. The timer had been rigged up by the uncle of one of the competitors, possibly to gain an advantage, to help keep the judges honest in their timings. Besides, it looked fancy, and it had a cool looking remote control.











The gym was filled to capacity. One hundred and Seventy Five Entrants, visitors, judges and media were crammed into plastic chairs, benches, and whatever lawn chairs the Teachers Auxiliary were able to borrow, that weren’t being used for the wedding at the Baptist Church. It was time to begin….



The three judges came in from the left of the clock, and sat down. The entrants were all nervously waiting on stage on the benches. The media representatives were down front, for photo opportunities, of course.



Judge number one, in the middle of the table clicked on the microphone in front of him and turned to the crowd. In doing so, he spilled his water on his notes and pulled the duct tape loose on the floor in front.



“Greetings, and welcome to the 87th Annual Cross Cultural Twin Counties Co-Educational Public School Spelling Bee.” There was some mild clapping from the family members, along with a few muffled whistles and two duck calls from the back. The weak response was due to the fact that most of the parents either had small fans (due to the heat), donated from the local Funeral Home, or hot dogs and beer (from the tailgating outside), in their hands. Needless to say, it was still a positive response.



The judge carried on…”Today’s competition brings together the top spellers in the region of the Twin Counties to do battle on our stage. All of the words used today, have been selected from a number of sources, including Webster’s Dictionary, from our own school library, Words with Friends from the inter web, keeping up with modern culture, and finally from two books of Dr. Suess that we had lying around the office. Each competitor will get one minute to answer once his or her word has been selected. We ask that you please refrain from applause until after the judges have confirmed the spelling, and please no help to the competitors. We now ask that you all turn off any electronic media, cell phones, pagers, etc. so we can begin”.



He then turned to the stage and asked all competitors to remove their cell phones and put them in the bright orange laundry basket, usually reserved for floor hockey sticks. Each student deposited their phones, all one hundred and thirty-seven of them in the basket.  We were ready to start.





“Competitor number one…please approach the microphone and state your name and your school” said Judge number two. Judge number two would be in charge of calling the students up, it seemed. She was the librarian at Thomas Polk. She had typical librarian glasses, with the silver chain attached to the arms, flaming red hair, done up in a bee hive uplift, just for the event, and was called Miss Flume. She was married, but, being the south, she was always addressed as Miss.



The first student advanced to the front of the stage. She had bright pink hair, held in place with a gold hairband, black shoes, and a yellow jumper. She looked like a walking number 2 pencil. The two duck calls came from the back of the gymnasium along with scattered applause. All three judges turned and looked to the back, and then turned to face the young girl.



“My name is Bobbie Jo Collister, I am a senior at Jackson Williams School of Fine Arts and Music”. “Thank you Bobbie Joe” said Miss Flume. Bobbie Jo, smiled nervously and put on her glasses. “Your word is horticulture” announced Judge number one, “horticulture”.  Bobbie Jo took a breath and without asking for a definition, usage, root of the word or anything, just ripped through it without fail in three point two seconds, according to the mammoth timepiece at the end of the table. After conferring, the judges clicked on the green street light and she sat down, amidst more duck calls and clapping.



Student number two went through the entire process as did students three through eight. Each one had glasses, no surprise there, and were all dressed in monochromatic themes. Together, they looked like a life sized box of crayolas ready for a halloween party. Each child spelled their words correctly and were subsequently cheered and applauded.



Student nine then approached the microphone, stopping about a good seven feet short and three feet right of it. “My name is Oliver Parnocky” squeaked the lad. “I go to George W. Bush P.S 19 and am a senior.” Miss Flume, grabbed the small mike in front of her and said “Oliver…put on your glasses and move over to the microphone.” She leaned into the other judges, and said “He goes to my school, he doesn’t like wearing them much, and he’s always outside at recess talking to the flagpole after everyone else has come inside”.



“Oliver, please spell Dichotomy” said Judge number one. Judge two started the clock and they waited….and waited…then out burst this voice….DICHOTOMY…D I C H O T O M E E, , no, wait..D I C K O….****!” The crowd erupted in laughter, Oliver was busted. The judges conferred, and after informing poor Oliver they had never heard it spelled quite that way with an O **** at the end, they triggered the red light and Oliver left the stage to sit in the audience with his folks.



The next three kids, all with glasses, like it was part of an unwritten uniform dress code for the day, all advanced and sat down. The next entrant, number thirteen, luckily enough stood from the back and struggled down to the front of the stage. There were gasps and some snickering from the crowd. She was taller than the previous competitors,  and a little more pregnant as well. “Please state your name” said Miss Flume. “My name is Betty Jo Willin and am a senior at

Buford T. Pusser Parochial School”. At this announcement there was a cheer of “Got Wood at B.T. Pusser” from the crowd. The judges turned, asked for silence and the offending nuns returned to their seats. “Miss Willin, how old are you exactly?” asked Judge number one. “Twenty Two sir”. “And you say you are a senior?” “Yes sir” came the reply. Betty Jo was shuffling a bit as the pressure on her bladder must have been building standing there in her delicate condition. After conferring, judge number one said “That sounds about right, your word is PROPHYLACTIC”. The few people in the crowd that knew the meaning of the word laughed, while the rest continued eating their hot dogs and drinking their sodas and beers. “Please give a definition sir..I don’t believe I know that word”. The judges looked at each other with a definite “I’m not surprised” look and rattled off the definition. When she asked for usage, the judges really didn’t know what to do. Should they give a sentence using the word or explain the usage of a prophylactic, which regardless would have been too late anyway.

After a modicum of control was reached, she attempted the word, getting all tongue tied and naturally messing it up. The red light was triggered and she left the stage.



More strange outfits, bowties, hair nets, jumpers, clip on ties, followed. It looked like a fashion parade from Goodwill and The Salvation Army rolled into one. Most attempted their words and were green lighted onwards to the next round, while those who failed, were red lighted back to the crowd and the tailgate party in the parking lot. As each competitor was eliminated, the betting board that was being manned outside by one father was updated with new odds and payouts.



The first round was approaching an end with only three kids left. “Number nineteen please approach and state your name” said Miss Flume. He plume of red hair was starting to sag and was sliding slowly off of her head due to the humidity in the gymnasium.



Number nineteen came forth, glasses, tape across the bridge like half of the previous spellers. He was wearing the most colourful shirt that any of the judges had ever seen. It was not from Dickies, they surmised. “I go to J.J. Washington P.S 117 and my name is Mujibar Julinoor Parkhurloonakiir”. The judges froze. He obviously was new to the district. They had never heard a name like that before, ever. Not even in Ghandi. This was a powerful name. There had been sixteen cominations of Bobby, Bobbie, Billie, Jo, Joe, Jimmy, Jeff, Johnson and Jackson prior to Mujibar. Stunned, judge one asked “Son, can you spell that please?”

Mujibar, not sure what to do, spelled his name, unsure of why he was being asked to do so. “Thank you son” said Miss Flume. The odds on the betting board in the parking lot changed right then.



“That boy is gonna win fer sure” said Jimmy Jeff Willerkers. Jimmy Jeff ran the filling station two concessions over and had fifty bucks on his nephew Bobby Jeff, who had already flamed out on “yawl”. “How was he supposed to know  it had something to do with boats?” asked Jimmy Jeff. “That Mujibar is gonna win…jeez, he’s been spelling that name for years….anything else is gonna be easy breezy.” The odds went down on Mujibar and the money was flying around that parking lot faster than the rumour that the revenue people were out looking for stills in the woods.



“Mujibar…please spell SALICIOUS”…asked the now red pancake headed Miss Flume. Doing as he was told, Mujibar, spelled the word, gave the root, a definition and a brief history of the word usage in modern literature. Judge number one was furiously scribbling down notes, and trying to figure out how he would get a bet down on this kid before round two started.



Entrant number twenty from Jefferson Davis Temple and Hebrew school advanced which brought up the final entrant from round one. “Number Twenty-One please advance to the front of the stage”. After adjusting his glasses, after all he didn’t want a repeat of what poor Oliver did, he approached. “My name is C.J. Kay from William Clinton P.S 68” Judge one, confused by the young man’s name asked him to repeat it. “C.J. Kay” said C.J. “What is your full last name boy, you can’t just have a letter as your last name….what is the K for?” “Sir, my last name is Kay”, said C.J. “It’s not a letter”. “It most certainly is son…H I J K L…rattled off judge one. “It has to stand for something, you just can’t be CJK, that sounds like a Canadian radio station or worse yet, one of them hippy hoppy d.j fellers my granddaughter listens to. What is the K for?”. C.J said sir “My name is Christopher John Kay… not K, Kay” and then spelled it out. This only confused judge one more than he already was, and the extra time figuring out his name was doing nothing to Miss Flume’s hairdo.



“Christopher John….please spell MEPHISTOPHOLES “ said Judge one, after realizing he was never going to find out what the K was for. The crowd was getting restless and wanted to get to the truck to get re-filled and change their bets. C.J. knocked it out of the park in 2.7 seconds…”faster than Lee Harvey Oswald at a target shoot in Dallas”, one man said.



After a ten minute break, to get drinks, ***, re-tape some glasses and prop up Miss Flumes ruined plumage round two was set to begin. This went faster as the words were getting tougher, although randomly selected, judge one was inserting a few new words to keep his chance of winning with Mujibar alive. PALIMONY, ARCHEOLOGY, PARSIMONIOUS, TRIPTOTHYLAMINE , and many other words were thrown at the competitors. Each time the list of successful spellers was reduced, and the amount of clapping and the duck calls were less.

The seventh round began with just Mujibar, B.J. Collister and C. J Kay left. Before the round began the judges reminded the crowd that the words were random, and to please keep the cheering until the green light had been lit. There were more duck calls at this announcement and very little applause. Jerry Jeff was still manning the betting board, the tailgate barbeque was done, and there was only about thirty people left in the gymnasium.



The balloons on the basketball net had long since lost their get up and go, and were now hanging limply like coloured rubber scrotums and were flatter that Miss Flumes hair, which incidently, was now starting to streak the right side of her face from sweat washing out the dye. She was beginning to look like an extra in a zombie film with a brilliant orange red streak across her forehead.



“C.J.” said judge one, “please spell ARYTHMOMYACIN”. C.J. gave it a valiant effort ,but unfortunately was incorrect and the red light sent him off to the showers. This left B.J. Collister and the odds on favourite, Mujibar. The crowd was down to twenty seven now, Bobbie Jo’s folks and Mujibars immediate family.



Round after round were completed with neither one missing a word. Neither one blinked. It was a gunfight where both shooters died. These two were good, and it was never going to end. Judge one leaned over and told the other judges, “we have to finish this soon….I’m due at the wedding over to the Baptist church for nine o’clock to bless the happily marrieds and drive them both to the airport. They’re off to Cuba for their honeymoon.” The others agreed…”C.J. please spell MINISCULE said Miss Flume”. She did so, without a problem. This caused judge one to yell out “Holy Christmas” just as Mujibar got to the microphone. Thinking this was his word, he started as the judges were giving him his word. Seizing the opportunity to end it…judge one woke up judge three who red lighted poor Mujibar, ending his run at spelling immortality. “Sorry son, you tried, but, today a Mujibar lost and a B.J won.”. Before he tried to correct himself, knowing what he had just said didn’t sound quite right, Miss Flume congratulated both finalists and began the award presentations.



Thankfully, next year the eighty eighth version of The Annual Cross Cultural Twin Counties Co-Educational Public School Spelling Bee will be in the other county. Now the job of sorting out the cell phones in the orange basket begins. By the way, Betty Jo Willin had a boy …you can just guess what she named it!
not a poem, as you can see...it's a rough draft of a short story. I would love feedback on the content, not the spelling or grammar as it is in a rough stage still and needs editing.
solenn fresnay Mar 2012
A Odessa je suis morte un matin d’octobre
Si je devais revivre je voudrais être psychopathe et brûler des maisons
Non, surtout pas ça
C’est effroyable de savoir écrire, même juste un peu.

                                                               ­               …/…

Marcher
Errer
Déambuler
Fermer les yeux
Ne plus penser
Mourir demain
Il faudrait que je meure demain
Mais vraiment, je veux dire
Me pendre au cerisier
M'étouffer avec le noyau d'une cerise
N'importe quoi
Trouver un truc
Mais mourir demain
Pour justifier ma raison d’être
Simplement poser mon stylo
Sur cette jolie place ensoleillée je vous ai regardé
Vous lisiez les yeux fermés

ALORS CHUT !

Pour justifier ma raison d’écrire
Simplement m’envoler
Ne plus avoir à me justifier
Etre juste un peu plus simple
Partir
Continuer l’errance à Odessa
Devenir transparente
La peau sur les os
Rêver
Pourquoi elle
Pourquoi moi

Dans le fond
Je ne suis pas bien différente de vous
Je n'avais rien à écrire
Je n'ai rien à te dire
De ma vie tu ne sais rien
Et si je dois mourir demain
Tu découvriras alors peut-être
Je dis bien peut-être

Et si tu lis ces lignes demain
Tu comprendras alors peut-être
Je dis bien peut-être

A Odessa cet après-midi
Je n'ai fait que vous regarder
Peut-être aurais-je dû m'y poser

Je travaille pour survivre
Je vis pour écrire
J’écris comme je respire
Le souffle coupé
Je tombe.
Puisque je dois mourir demain
Juste fermer les yeux
M’éclater la tête contre le radiateur

A Odessa cet après-midi
Je n'ai fait que vous regarder
Un jeu dangereux qui se joue uniquement à la première personne.

A Odessa cet après-midi
Nous avions rendez-vous
Tu n'aurais jamais dû venir, maman.
solenn fresnay May 2012
Alors pourquoi juste maintenant?
C’était une nuit sur Bagneux
Nous étions mercredi soir à la station Montparnasse-Bienvenüe
Je portais ces mêmes vêtements noirs et ma veste grise achetée en Italie
Il ne faisait pas trop froid
Je rentrais chez moi, vingt heures
Mon regard croisa celui d'une jeune femme d'à peu près mon âge
Jolie, mince et calme, le visage d'opale et les deux pieds bien posés au sol
Avec insistance je la regardais
Elle me faisait tellement penser à celle que je n’arrive pas à être
Fixant le quai d'en face
Le métro était censé arriver dans une minute
Quand soudain
La tête me tourna
Je ne contrôlais plus aucun de mes mouvements
Je me suis approchée du mur, m’y suis appuyée tant bien que mal juste pour ne pas tomber
Et là, je ne sais pas très bien pourquoi
Mais la jeune femme que je ne cessais de regarder sauta sous la rame.

L’insupportable bruit
L’électricité
Le corps en mille morceaux
Les gens qui hurlent
Le métro qui s'arrête juste devant cet embrasement
Pourtant moi
Moi
Je ne disais rien
Je m'accrochais tant que je pouvais au mur
J'avais si peur de glisser à mon tour

Pourquoi elle
Elle était si jolie, si fine et si calme
Aucune rature sur son visage d'opale
Rien
Tandis que moi...
Ce n’était qu’une autre nuit sur Bagneux.
Listen to this poem here:
http://soundcloud.com/solennfresnay/die-gosse-1
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2016
~~~


in a four lion pawed,
old fashion
bathtub,
soaping and playing
with my two boys,
then, young children,
splish splashing,
playing games,
a wet version of capture the flag,
the winner gets to scrub someone else's back
with a flag
of the slipperest bar of soap,
ever,
in a game we called,

catch the cockroach cuckoo

***.

the floor is totally soaked,
your mom's gonna **** someone,
the bath mat weighing now 'bout five pounds,
not including the no tears shampoo that miraculously
is bubbling up from it,
an actual
groundswell of
shining eyes

and oh crap,

your pj's!
on the floor!

we all gotta go hide real quick
in the crazy better-be-on-high dryer,
more happy shouting, tumbling,
to get them and
our selves
back to a
ready-to-wear- state,
with a wearable, Johnson & Johnson sham-poo,
sweet-smelling encasing,
ready to be swept beneath a talcum powdery snow-angel coverlet,
into a slippery ready-to-sleep state

"quit all that screaming you guys,"

a piercing late entrant
to our Las Vegas gaming bath~table,
heard through the door,
deserving of a ten second
almost silenced,
fearful, giggled appreciation

then some one sang out

catch the cockroach cuckoo

and the fun and games recommence,
all of us,
soap search engines,
began again,
fully reenergized

don't gotta clue,
why this old fool fills
his memory sac this day,
with this silly,
refried-ain't-worth-a-hill-of-beans
peyote poem-visions from
decades older(1)

nowadays, he still plays,
still a super soaker bath man,
reliving old-fashioned soapy games
with a new Kingston trio,
me, myself and I,

and still hearing voices,
absent and present,
coming thru the walls

"you making a mess in there? better quiet down!"

but today's voices heard
are from within born,
not real,
an updated, revised recollection of the
went, and now,
gone gone gone

these voice now mocking the messes made
of bathrooms and
lives,
his own,
and the other players,
their lives
that this man sealed and help fashion,
for better and some,
for worse

and the
updated "better quiet down" sound heard,
well, that's jes me trying
to convince the too familiar new trio,
that the
harmonies of that vision,
ain't real
no more

and he finds-the-soap game
nowadays,
can't give you relief,
cannot remove,
the uncleansed residue of them
other
oldest soap **** guilty memories,
consisting of too many undisclosed,
then, unrealized mistakes,
that any parent,
all parents,
or this particular parent,
raises up,
seals and makes


~~~
5:21pm
1/30/16 NYC

(1) I subsequently realized that Pandora
played Crosby, Still and Nash singing
"teach your children well.
their father's hell,
will slowly go by"
Bo Tansky Oct 2018
It was bad enough when opinionated white men were the only ones
You saw them when you opened your set
Haven’t processed it yet
Gave bert my last four dollars
Fear I may live in squalor
If I screamed and hollered
Would it help
It was bad enough when opinionated white men were the only ones
Merrily followed by
opinionated white women
Black men
Black women
The Asians
The Haitians
Good gracious
The whole gang
A whole gaggle of them
Each one more opinionated than the other
A chorus that roars of
Incredible bores
Tuned into the conversation next door
It too was a bore
Everyone’s hysterical
If it weren’t so serious
Would almost be comical
The what if demons
Threaten to demean us
What am I going to do
I have no money
You think this is funny
I could go hungry
See what I mean
Why should I care
Money will appear from somewhere
If I only can believe it
It was bad enough when opinionated white men
My pill popping hon
Busted in on my fun
He’s out of pills
I’ll see what I can do
I’m out of them too
My appointment’s on Monday
I know it’s not even Sunday
It’s the best I can too
I'm out of them too
And then opinionated white women
What of it
He twists and turns
Thinks something is wrong with him
They examined all over him
No one’s yet uncovered
Discovered his apparent rigidity  
Stupidity, in moments near to him
Rigidity can be good or bad
Happy or sad
Depends if your frozen or fried
Broiled or foiled
Sautéed or filleted
Or nicely done hon
What was I saying
Yeah, rigidity’s a *****.
Always on the hook
You play it by the book
You’re ready to defend
Opinionated white men
Seeking some advantage
Prowling for an entrant
Doesn’t matter
I’m not a contestant
I play by the book
Which book are you looking for
They change by the season
They change by the reason
They change by the color
They change by the number
They change by the thunder
They change by the why
They change by the hi(gh)
They change by the sigh
They change by the discipline
It took to get here
I need a break from this exchange
Dear
Finally, they’re gone
Glorious alone-time
My mind can roam-time
Away from the beehive
Mind-hive project set.
Are you ready set
It’s bad enough when opinionated white men were the only ones
Were the whole set, subset, sweat set upset
Not yet set
Yet set
Ready set
Go set
Maybe set
Maybe no set
Rap set
Whoa set
She said set
I’ll get back to you on that set
But not yet set
I need a rest set
For god’s sake
Let me think about it
It’s only been nine years
Nine months
Nine days
nine minutes
Nine seconds
A split sec
Compared to an eternity set
It was bad enough when opinionated white men were the only ones
You saw them when you opened your set
Haven’t processed it yet
Must be hiding way out on the net set
My God, how can I talk about rigidity
But I’ve changed my mindset
Ok?
But, not yet.
judy smith Oct 2016
At any given moment, it seems there is a fashion week happening somewhere in the world - be it Sydney, Istanbul, Dubai, Seoul, Moscow, Toronto, Copenhagen or Lagos (to name a few).

But the latest entrant may be the most surprising: Silicon Valley.

Or, as the organisers style it: Silicon Valley Fashion Week?!.

The punctuation marks as part of the title are a self-aware nod to the incongruity of marrying the location, known for its allegiance to hoodies, Tevas and T-shirts, to a fashion event.

But that does not mean they are any less serious about its potential.

The three-day annual event, which finished its second turn over the weekend in San Francisco, bills itself as "part fashion show, part variety show, part trade show" and is open to the public, unlike the usual fashion industry events. This year, about 30 brands were featured and tickets, at US$20 (S$28), sold out, with about 500 people attending each day.

It was staged by Betabrand, a San Francisco company that builds its clothing catalogue by crowdsourcing design ideas and, after seeing which take off, crowdfunding the production of the prototypes to see which ones people will actually want to buy. Examples include a "mind the gap" blouse that stretches to fit the body's contours and a dress that uses a trademarked reflective material.

The event exists at the nexus of Burning Man, wearable technology and the Maker Movement, home of inventors, designers and other do-it-yourself types. Pebble Smartwatch presented a Smarthole Hoodie, a standard hoodie design with sleeves that extend over the thumbs and have a movable panel around the wrist to make gaining access to the company's device easier; and Tinsel offered headphones that can be worn as a necklace.

Alison Lewis, who holds a design and technology master's degree from Parsons School of Design in New York, showed three items: a lambskin leather handbag embedded with LED bulbs that can be rearranged in different patterns with an app; a T-shirt that does the same; and a dress with lights that undulate with the wearer's heartbeat.

"Technology is a tool. It's how we use it that's really exciting," she said. "We could have less clothing in our closets and have pieces that change and work with our moods and personalities on a daily basis."

Lewis has not had a chance to present her work in other fashion shows and, so far, she has not been able to mass-produce her items. She commended the fashion week as a place to experiment.

She was not the only designer struggling with the challenge of manufacturing what she displayed.

However, as wearables increasingly enter mainstream fashion, with designers from Ralph Lauren to Zac Posen dipping their creative toes into technology, the idea of clothing patterns controlled by apps, of drone delivery, and of customisation that allows - maybe even asks - its wearers to make a choice each and every day, seems less far-fetched and more like fashion's possible future.

Which, unlikely as it may be, puts the Silicon Valley event on the style front line.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/backless-formal-dresses | http://www.marieaustralia.com/red-formal-dresses
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
National mindsets self interested suffer
forms of dementia as the order all confessed,
demands of each a concentration of self worth,
you bet your soul, but only in the spirit,
step into the fray, say, let me lead you,
say let me take elected office,
democratic to the edges, being your voice
in a popularity contest, not an intellectual joust.
Tutelary deontology 101.
Governing is managing the labor. Ask the king.
Any flock in the system, governs itself.
Business is business.
Some arrangements are always secret. All
grown ups are in the business of war supplies.
Let your children's minds be at ease.
Trust the checks and balances history proves,
have never worked on balance, for the poor.
Get rich quick as one can imagine, on a bet.
War meets Peace, like it is the storm
that left Greenland, a legend until now.

Easily intreated innocense, who could know.
Prosaic first morning pizz to prime the pump.

How deep is the generational debt due to war?
How many bonds have been sold to pay interest?
How many times has the national debt ceiling failed?
You know.
Every time.
"Each major conflict in U.S. history
has been accompanied
by a sharp rise
in debt as the government raises funds
to pay for the fighting."

But laws do exist…
"Without a declaration of war
to put the country on a wartime economy,
Congress paid for Vietnam
by increasing the national debt.
Over the course of the conflict,
America's debt nearly doubled, growing
from approximately $317 billion in 1965
to $620 billion in 1976."

Now the debt is rising
on interest alone. No need for another war.

And America's trade balance is hinged,
on the point of war.
The ideal centermost irritant, war's hate pump,
pain expanded by generational trespass acts
likened unto the pea
under the stack of feathered beds,
or the bit of grit forcing oyster stress
that has made the misshapen pearl sold
to sovreign entities, those colors on the map,
these mental aggregations called nations,
by nationalist mind frame riveters,
foundational eye beams, remove before demoting,
ah, slow, riveted beams spanning ferro-concrete tech- think.
Building a reasoning trap, children,
ask your fathers to whom we owe our national debt.
Ask also who sells the weapons to the world at war.
Semper fi,
no offence, but… holy hate is as crazy as hungry hate.

A voice from a song, from nowhere,
you just could rethink, or did, that first time think
a bridge over troubled waters being a truly old good idea,
come to rescue you,

in the early days of Boomer parenthood… being grown ups,
we never missed a Disney Movie, though by then,
they were losing the gnostalgia, old knowns to be like so,
were no longer even imaginably so.
Old Yeller,
Childhood's end, the separation
from hearth felt comfort,
to the class rooms and hallways
of massive cold concrete schools… where on day one,
the child pledges with its cohort of coeducatables,
the ancient bond of aliegiance...
I pledged mine first in 1954, the year "under God" was added.

In the just now settling down towns along the great freeways,
there has been no peace on earth in my generation,
at the level of military minds in conflict caused by stories,
boys bred with old hates just waiting for a sigh-psignal
sci-revealed to those willing to become Jason Bourne,
to the best of your abilities, ring the bell, any time.  

Welcome to the front. Sanity is on the line.
There is no conspiracy, we sell our souls for what money
can be demonstratively proven to allow and even augment.

War is all we sell. There is another game, it's a liar's game.
Many famous authorities have filled the space at the table.

Take your hat off, Bartholowmew, she does not understand you.

------------
Daily communication with myself,
one person, with no power to use
save the early cultural confidence;
sworn to tell the whole truth,
so help me, God. Yes, your honor.

Except we reactivate the curious why,
functionally suppressed during the standard
test taking by the proximate others
diligently filling in the blanks,
with graphite rounded just right, one swipe.

Except we see that hanging senselessly realized.
Each problem, one answer, not one option.
Only select correct answer.
Tell the child learning the pledge,
God is on our side, emphasize
how exceptional those who know so are,
extremely discriminatingly,
arranging the economy around
the great decussation at the air gap,
at the back of our national neck.

In this time,
thoughts and prayers, we hear
spoken of as easily done,
almost without thoughts, who
responds?, who, has ever responded
to the said to be going out constantly
thoughts and prayers, asking truth
to intervene and call the liars liars?

God is not angry, nor without resources,
according to the cultures now at war--
¿
Whose mortgage was not paid with earnings
from war readiness industrial complexes?

Whose talent was left with the userers,
because the Bible says y'sposed to earn interest?

Whose 401K deflated to oops?

Business begins with informed agreements.
Let's make a deal.
No killing, stealing nor needless destruction.

Minds join eye to eye, one mindwise agreed,
we become an entity, a being essential
to the parts, a mind in harmony, rank and file.

Greedy men with no agreement. Hmm, who loses?

Line up, not by rank, single file, fall in,
first and following, get in on the end,
and wait for the circle to close,
re done dances, life going wild as
we celebrate our circle, we sing of it
being unbroken in the sweet by and by…

The land of those who talk back to El,
yes, yes, we do, to honor Iyobe,
who first called for the Daysman,
who first
told reality, with all it's evil potential,
you cannot not be true, you know, in form
as spirit and truth containable in words, logos,
logos of all o-logies,
so powerful as to allow, in fact, cause, new mindforms,
species of thoughts that function as a system to make
sense, discernible, bits of valuation determinable in agreement.
--------------
Contractual obligations religiously adhered to
just between us, we take advantage for the nation's sake.
Madrassahs and aliegiance pledges set habits hard to break.

Set the cost of goods, lower than replacement cost of the price.
What does it cost a state to rear a warrior class individual
that self replenishes?

What does it cost me to scatter confusion in profuse create-ifity?
So, add a proper tip,
and pay the cost to ride this line to the next re-entering angle.
Middle east,
cauldron of all the holy empires thus far into the age
of entertainment so vast,
wise men can imagine, some day
there will be a war, and no parents will have
offered children to the infantry or made
righteous indignation acceptable national pride to k-ill for.

There Hamas, holy brainwashed haters of hatefulness.
Repents and perishes the very thought of peace.
Repay in kind, here, swear undying obediance,
fear not death, this is Allah's Promise, die killing Jews,
turns on the monstrous virgins awaiting you…
in post mortal walled places,
where the oldest civilizations occurred,
as God's great idea, I'll
empty the center of me, and seep
back in through fractured rationality
along trade routes between Africa and
the forested north above the desert.

Me, there, in mental efforting, thinking
thoughts, not prayers, but wishes, hopes,
thoughts that prayers attach to, as evidence.

"Ask and ye shall receive."
Love those who call you enemy, can you?

Face me, Mr. Nobody, the essence of other,
I declare peace, where none is, and you laugh.

No ritual, no enchantments with promise,
no sacred making of secular deaths, just
just just adjust the justice aspect, blame
the holy haters whose God dispenses vengeance,
at the behest of warriors fitted with military minds.

As when holy Americans gather to offer military aid,
blessed by the congregations alerted to intercede,
on the side that denies Jesus was God,--- ah, both sides,
in this case…
whither turn we, do we face Mecca, or Jerusalem,
or Petra or … Sol or Luna, all our enculturated faith,

blinks, a lense clarifying effort, rub the crust
of sleep fallen into while mourning, unsealing eyes
to see again, a war between two national identities,
both with warrior glory emulation traditions,
one with money as first de-fence, the other with hate,
nothing less than pure hatred, Cain to Able, sorry bro.

Old mean spirits.
If the hate can live in any man, wombed or un, it will.

Willingness to hate enough to k-ill a stranger, will
manifest as holy terror… enough to make Jesus weep.

--- and those were a few of the local thoughts made prayer,
seemingly automatically, as mysterious as most final secrets.

Part three, deeper, faster, harder… or not

Doings in the dark, are done by feel.
One, you or I, or some other sapien
augmented with the messiah's mind, feels the need for the deed.
Take the message from Garcia.

Mystic experience in story realms,
holding all the visions taken raw,
as revealed… as when a curtained
entry way is opened for inspection,

are we ideas in bodies?
are all ideas spirit in form?

Inhale an intuited absence of evil,
breathe the air of answered prayer.

Imagine that, let fly the idea of you,
beloved individuated potential saint.

Here is your sentimental inner edge,
your gnosis pressed flat as you see in.

The edge of this bubble, is distant
only to the holy cloaked in asceticism,
twisting wicks
for someday light in someday night,
circulate one way then the other,
rethinking perfected emptiness,
there are no others, up or down,
to and fro, vectors tie targeted states,
spider kites form single ray classic webbing,
slim banner, a flag unraveled long since.

Follow me, I say to me, follow me,
I say to you, saying back, I am not you.

My option.
Turn on, sit back and watch,
evolving cave wall interesting hooks,

look around, nothing interesting, eh?
Television as imagined by petrified apes,
during peak-info preservation history,
when men like Franklin and Voltaire,
met to share secret meanings of things.

Previous to any whole story
that remains, as when any mind mistakes
tzimtzum inside as first occurrence,

total emptiness, pre space, one time
this instant accepted as audience

in true gaseous we form, auto informing
the vegetable phaze passed eons ago, life
tells tales too esoteric for novices
to notice, in the ideal state, active
imagining, as with a child's mind, yours
since ever was, so far as you may wish
to remember,
a time when the state was deemed
comforting and beauty filled, chaotic
process of floating lipids, in form of air,
light has not dawned on us, we are
night scene setters of settings, nodes
of potential anything you can imagine,

level with me, even, straight, right… yes it
is the optional meandering mind engine,
an idol, or a daimon, madness of sorted
degrees, a little bit off the charts, sorted
out.
Not in, the bubble being becomes,
when one emerges in a self…

subtle is good, right, we agree?
Jesus, before Christianity, as a kid,
instructed with his cousin John,
likely by his temple servant uncle.

That can be imagined, projected
on the outerwall
of this bubble we be in.
At the moment,
on an Earth wired

for sound, elephants agreeing to meet,
to follow the pilgrimage, pilgrim beings
activated by stark necessity successful
to this degree…

by the reader's time's
at tension, pull
release
snap back, at what ifery, at once, push

most bottom centered point once sitting
in raw time thought processing, in
and out, efforting
- slightly off, not fully on
uncomfortable impression of holy
you better get better or else. Holy

blank slate, bubble pop, soft wow

Now, we're in the swirl, in the spin
toward, froward lips sealed, golden
silence,
subtler than any beast, creature,
living thing in the ruliad, am I? No.

BUT, you know, those penance prayers,
given you as a child, enchantments,
as with all your renouncements of evil
and pledges under God, in your child mind.

Look. To your own self, be true.
You still have private interpretation access
to your child mind.

If you put your worried mind to work
on some thought too deep to ponder then,

The idea of punishment by the Creator
of all that is not God, but was deemed good,
by God, because I said so, said the father,
in the child mind.

To know good and evil knowledge,
that talent, initial mark on our blank slate,
to know, not what you know, but ask
your child mind, how does it feel,

flat on your back gasping as others laugh,
and your child mind blooms an entire eon
- just to catch a breath takes for ever
and there were others, the whole family
of mankind of your kind, to your child mind,
stood laughing at your attempt to perform

a first flight, from an edged bet with an
I think I can virus perpetuated in ever after,

since mind made time make sense in chaos.
Instantly, things start to take shapes, in mind.
Non sense. Since. Processing time. Go.
Instants out of mind, in atari.
Fog of unknowns. I used to play the game.
Not really, only, one off thought forms,
cloudlike in symmetry, no clear tongue
and groove, fitting our pro-posed… pose

supposed, to listen and while listening,
learn the use of any knowing, can be
taken as granted possibility by your self.
- distant sound of light sabers actuation
Your blame and shame catcher, out front,
as we steam ahead across the gap,
thoughts made prayers must leap.

Keep your eyes on the prize, three
walnuts and a split pea with a hair, fine
infant hair, see it there, your old minds eye.

The unveiling of an artifice, an angle
greater than straight, from this point…
a re-entrant angle, like a point, banked shot.

in
Thanks, I needed you to ready become... said the little blue man... whatsoever we agree... indeed. Let us see...
Lorsque le grand Byron allait quitter Ravenne,
Et chercher sur les mers quelque plage lointaine
Où finir en héros son immortel ennui,
Comme il était assis aux pieds de sa maîtresse,
Pâle, et déjà tourné du côté de la Grèce,
Celle qu'il appelait alors sa Guiccioli
Ouvrit un soir un livre où l'on parlait de lui.

Avez-vous de ce temps conservé la mémoire,
Lamartine, et ces vers au prince des proscrits,
Vous souvient-il encor qui les avait écrits ?
Vous étiez jeune alors, vous, notre chère gloire.
Vous veniez d'essayer pour la première fois
Ce beau luth éploré qui vibre sous vos doigts.
La Muse que le ciel vous avait fiancée
Sur votre front rêveur cherchait votre pensée,
Vierge craintive encore, amante des lauriers.
Vous ne connaissiez pas, noble fils de la France,
Vous ne connaissiez pas, sinon par sa souffrance,
Ce sublime orgueilleux à qui vous écriviez.
De quel droit osiez-vous l'aborder et le plaindre ?
Quel aigle, Ganymède, à ce Dieu vous portait ?
Pressentiez-vous qu'un jour vous le pourriez atteindre,
Celui qui de si haut alors vous écoutait ?
Non, vous aviez vingt ans, et le coeur vous battait
Vous aviez lu Lara, Manfred et le Corsaire,
Et vous aviez écrit sans essuyer vos pleurs ;
Le souffle de Byron vous soulevait de terre,
Et vous alliez à lui, porté par ses douleurs.
Vous appeliez de **** cette âme désolée ;
Pour grand qu'il vous parût, vous le sentiez ami
Et, comme le torrent dans la verte vallée,
L'écho de son génie en vous avait gémi.
Et lui, lui dont l'Europe, encore toute armée,
Écoutait en tremblant les sauvages concerts ;
Lui qui depuis dix ans fuyait sa renommée,
Et de sa solitude emplissait l'univers ;
Lui, le grand inspiré de la Mélancolie,
Qui, las d'être envié, se changeait en martyr ;
Lui, le dernier amant de la pauvre Italie,
Pour son dernier exil s'apprêtant à partir ;
Lui qui, rassasié de la grandeur humaine,
Comme un cygne à son chant sentant sa mort prochaine,
Sur terre autour de lui cherchait pour qui mourir...
Il écouta ces vers que lisait sa maîtresse,
Ce doux salut lointain d'un jeune homme inconnu.
Je ne sais si du style il comprit la richesse ;
Il laissa dans ses yeux sourire sa tristesse :
Ce qui venait du coeur lui fut le bienvenu.

Poète, maintenant que ta muse fidèle,
Par ton pudique amour sûre d'être immortelle,
De la verveine en fleur t'a couronné le front,
À ton tour, reçois-moi comme le grand Byron.
De t'égaler jamais je n'ai pas l'espérance ;
Ce que tu tiens du ciel, nul ne me l'a promis,
Mais de ton sort au mien plus grande est la distance,
Meilleur en sera Dieu qui peut nous rendre amis.
Je ne t'adresse pas d'inutiles louanges,
Et je ne songe point que tu me répondras ;
Pour être proposés, ces illustres échanges
Veulent être signés d'un nom que je n'ai pas.
J'ai cru pendant longtemps que j'étais las du monde ;
J'ai dit que je niais, croyant avoir douté,
Et j'ai pris, devant moi, pour une nuit profonde
Mon ombre qui passait pleine de vanité.
Poète, je t'écris pour te dire que j'aime,
Qu'un rayon du soleil est tombé jusqu'à moi,
Et qu'en un jour de deuil et de douleur suprême
Les pleurs que je versais m'ont fait penser à toi.

Qui de nous, Lamartine, et de notre jeunesse,
Ne sait par coeur ce chant, des amants adoré,
Qu'un soir, au bord d'un lac, tu nous as soupiré ?
Qui n'a lu mille fois, qui ne relit sans cesse
Ces vers mystérieux où parle ta maîtresse,
Et qui n'a sangloté sur ces divins sanglots,
Profonds comme le ciel et purs comme les flots ?
Hélas ! ces longs regrets des amours mensongères,
Ces ruines du temps qu'on trouve à chaque pas,
Ces sillons infinis de lueurs éphémères,
Qui peut se dire un homme et ne les connaît pas ?
Quiconque aima jamais porte une cicatrice ;
Chacun l'a dans le sein, toujours prête à s'ouvrir ;
Chacun la garde en soi, cher et secret supplice,
Et mieux il est frappé, moins il en veut guérir.
Te le dirai-je, à toi, chantre de la souffrance,
Que ton glorieux mal, je l'ai souffert aussi ?
Qu'un instant, comme toi, devant ce ciel immense,
J'ai serré dans mes bras la vie et l'espérance,
Et qu'ainsi que le tien, mon rêve s'est enfui ?
Te dirai-je qu'un soir, dans la brise embaumée,
Endormi, comme toi, dans la paix du bonheur,
Aux célestes accents d'une voix bien-aimée,
J'ai cru sentir le temps s'arrêter dans mon coeur ?
Te dirai-je qu'un soir, resté seul sur la terre,
Dévoré, comme toi, d'un affreux souvenir,
Je me suis étonné de ma propre misère,
Et de ce qu'un enfant peut souffrir sans mourir ?
Ah ! ce que j'ai senti dans cet instant terrible,
Oserai-je m'en plaindre et te le raconter ?
Comment exprimerai-je une peine indicible ?
Après toi, devant toi, puis-je encor le tenter ?
Oui, de ce jour fatal, plein d'horreur et de charmes,
Je veux fidèlement te faire le récit ;
Ce ne sont pas des chants, ce ne sont pas des larmes,
Et je ne te dirai que ce que Dieu m'a dit.

Lorsque le laboureur, regagnant sa chaumière,
Trouve le soir son champ rasé par le tonnerre,
Il croit d'abord qu'un rêve a fasciné ses yeux,
Et, doutant de lui-même, interroge les cieux.
Partout la nuit est sombre, et la terre enflammée.
Il cherche autour de lui la place accoutumée
Où sa femme l'attend sur le seuil entr'ouvert ;
Il voit un peu de cendre au milieu d'un désert.
Ses enfants demi-nus sortent de la bruyère,
Et viennent lui conter comme leur pauvre mère
Est morte sous le chaume avec des cris affreux ;
Mais maintenant au **** tout est silencieux.
Le misérable écoute et comprend sa ruine.
Il serre, désolé, ses fils sur sa poitrine ;
Il ne lui reste plus, s'il ne tend pas la main,
Que la faim pour ce soir et la mort pour demain.
Pas un sanglot ne sort de sa gorge oppressée ;
Muet et chancelant, sans force et sans pensée,
Il s'assoit à l'écart, les yeux sur l'horizon,
Et regardant s'enfuir sa moisson consumée,
Dans les noirs tourbillons de l'épaisse fumée
L'ivresse du malheur emporte sa raison.

Tel, lorsque abandonné d'une infidèle amante,
Pour la première fois j'ai connu la douleur,
Transpercé tout à coup d'une flèche sanglante,
Seul je me suis assis dans la nuit de mon coeur.
Ce n'était pas au bord d'un lac au flot limpide,
Ni sur l'herbe fleurie au penchant des coteaux ;
Mes yeux noyés de pleurs ne voyaient que le vide,
Mes sanglots étouffés n'éveillaient point d'échos.
C'était dans une rue obscure et tortueuse
De cet immense égout qu'on appelle Paris :
Autour de moi criait cette foule railleuse
Qui des infortunés n'entend jamais les cris.
Sur le pavé noirci les blafardes lanternes
Versaient un jour douteux plus triste que la nuit,
Et, suivant au hasard ces feux vagues et ternes,
L'homme passait dans l'ombre, allant où va le bruit.
Partout retentissait comme une joie étrange ;
C'était en février, au temps du carnaval.
Les masques avinés, se croisant dans la fange,
S'accostaient d'une injure ou d'un refrain banal.
Dans un carrosse ouvert une troupe entassée
Paraissait par moments sous le ciel pluvieux,
Puis se perdait au **** dans la ville insensée,
Hurlant un hymne impur sous la résine en feux.
Cependant des vieillards, des enfants et des femmes
Se barbouillaient de lie au fond des cabarets,
Tandis que de la nuit les prêtresses infâmes
Promenaient çà et là leurs spectres inquiets.
On eût dit un portrait de la débauche antique,
Un de ces soirs fameux, chers au peuple romain,
Où des temples secrets la Vénus impudique
Sortait échevelée, une torche à la main.
Dieu juste ! pleurer seul par une nuit pareille !
Ô mon unique amour ! que vous avais-je fait ?
Vous m'aviez pu quitter, vous qui juriez la veille
Que vous étiez ma vie et que Dieu le savait ?
Ah ! toi, le savais-tu, froide et cruelle amie,
Qu'à travers cette honte et cette obscurité
J'étais là, regardant de ta lampe chérie,
Comme une étoile au ciel, la tremblante clarté ?
Non, tu n'en savais rien, je n'ai pas vu ton ombre,
Ta main n'est pas venue entr'ouvrir ton rideau.
Tu n'as pas regardé si le ciel était sombre ;
Tu ne m'as pas cherché dans cet affreux tombeau !

Lamartine, c'est là, dans cette rue obscure,
Assis sur une borne, au fond d'un carrefour,
Les deux mains sur mon coeur, et serrant ma blessure,
Et sentant y saigner un invincible amour ;
C'est là, dans cette nuit d'horreur et de détresse,
Au milieu des transports d'un peuple furieux
Qui semblait en passant crier à ma jeunesse,
« Toi qui pleures ce soir, n'as-tu pas ri comme eux ? »
C'est là, devant ce mur, où j'ai frappé ma tête,
Où j'ai posé deux fois le fer sur mon sein nu ;
C'est là, le croiras-tu ? chaste et noble poète,
Que de tes chants divins je me suis souvenu.
Ô toi qui sais aimer, réponds, amant d'Elvire,
Comprends-tu que l'on parte et qu'on se dise adieu ?
Comprends-tu que ce mot la main puisse l'écrire,
Et le coeur le signer, et les lèvres le dire,
Les lèvres, qu'un baiser vient d'unir devant Dieu ?
Comprends-tu qu'un lien qui, dans l'âme immortelle,
Chaque jour plus profond, se forme à notre insu ;
Qui déracine en nous la volonté rebelle,
Et nous attache au coeur son merveilleux tissu ;
Un lien tout-puissant dont les noeuds et la trame
Sont plus durs que la roche et que les diamants ;
Qui ne craint ni le temps, ni le fer, ni la flamme,
Ni la mort elle-même, et qui fait des amants
Jusque dans le tombeau s'aimer les ossements ;
Comprends-tu que dix ans ce lien nous enlace,
Qu'il ne fasse dix ans qu'un seul être de deux,
Puis tout à coup se brise, et, perdu dans l'espace,
Nous laisse épouvantés d'avoir cru vivre heureux ?
Ô poète ! il est dur que la nature humaine,
Qui marche à pas comptés vers une fin certaine,
Doive encor s'y traîner en portant une croix,
Et qu'il faille ici-bas mourir plus d'une fois.
Car de quel autre nom peut s'appeler sur terre
Cette nécessité de changer de misère,
Qui nous fait, jour et nuit, tout prendre et tout quitter.
Si bien que notre temps se passe à convoiter ?
Ne sont-ce pas des morts, et des morts effroyables,
Que tant de changements d'êtres si variables,
Qui se disent toujours fatigués d'espérer,
Et qui sont toujours prêts à se transfigurer ?
Quel tombeau que le coeur, et quelle solitude !
Comment la passion devient-elle habitude,
Et comment se fait-il que, sans y trébucher,
Sur ses propres débris l'homme puisse marcher ?
Il y marche pourtant ; c'est Dieu qui l'y convie.
Il va semant partout et prodiguant sa vie :
Désir, crainte, colère, inquiétude, ennui,
Tout passe et disparaît, tout est fantôme en lui.
Son misérable coeur est fait de telle sorte
Qu'il fuit incessamment qu'une ruine en sorte ;
Que la mort soit son terme, il ne l'ignore pas,
Et, marchant à la mort, il meurt à chaque pas.
Il meurt dans ses amis, dans son fils, dans son père,
Il meurt dans ce qu'il pleure et dans ce qu'il espère ;
Et, sans parler des corps qu'il faut ensevelir,
Qu'est-ce donc qu'oublier, si ce n'est pas mourir ?
Ah ! c'est plus que mourir, c'est survivre à soi-même.
L'âme remonte au ciel quand on perd ce qu'on aime.
Il ne reste de nous qu'un cadavre vivant ;
Le désespoir l'habite, et le néant l'attend.

Eh bien ! bon ou mauvais, inflexible ou fragile,
Humble ou fier, triste ou ***, mais toujours gémissant,
Cet homme, tel qu'il est, cet être fait d'argile,
Tu l'as vu, Lamartine, et son sang est ton sang.
Son bonheur est le tien, sa douleur est la tienne ;
Et des maux qu'ici-bas il lui faut endurer
Pas un qui ne te touche et qui ne t'appartienne ;
Puisque tu sais chanter, ami, tu sais pleurer.
Dis-moi, qu'en penses-tu dans tes jours de tristesse ?
Que t'a dit le malheur, quand tu l'as consulté ?
Trompé par tes amis, trahi par ta maîtresse,
Du ciel et de toi-même as-tu jamais douté ?

Non, Alphonse, jamais. La triste expérience
Nous apporte la cendre, et n'éteint pas le feu.
Tu respectes le mal fait par la Providence,
Tu le laisses passer, et tu crois à ton Dieu.
Quel qu'il soit, c'est le mien ; il n'est pas deux croyances
Je ne sais pas son nom, j'ai regardé les cieux ;
Je sais qu'ils sont à Lui, je sais qu'ils sont immenses,
Et que l'immensité ne peut pas être à deux.
J'ai connu, jeune encore, de sévères souffrances,
J'ai vu verdir les bois, et j'ai tenté d'aimer.
Je sais ce que la terre engloutit d'espérances,
Et, pour y recueillir, ce qu'il y faut semer.
Mais ce que j'ai senti, ce que je veux t'écrire,
C'est ce que m'ont appris les anges de douleur ;
Je le sais mieux encore et puis mieux te le dire,
Car leur glaive, en entrant, l'a gravé dans mon coeur :

Créature d'un jour qui t'agites une heure,
De quoi viens-tu te plaindre et qui te fait gémir ?
Ton âme t'inquiète, et tu crois qu'elle pleure :
Ton âme est immortelle, et tes pleurs vont tarir.

Tu te sens le coeur pris d'un caprice de femme,
Et tu dis qu'il se brise à force de souffrir.
Tu demandes à Dieu de soulager ton âme :
Ton âme est immortelle, et ton coeur va guérir.

Le regret d'un instant te trouble et te dévore ;
Tu dis que le passé te voile l'avenir.
Ne te plains pas d'hier ; laisse venir l'aurore :
Ton âme est immortelle, et le temps va s'enfuir

Ton corps est abattu du mal de ta pensée ;
Tu sens ton front peser et tes genoux fléchir.
Tombe, agenouille-toi, créature insensée :
Ton âme est immortelle, et la mort va venir.

Tes os dans le cercueil vont tomber en poussière
Ta mémoire, ton nom, ta gloire vont périr,
Mais non pas ton amour, si ton amour t'est chère :
Ton âme est immortelle, et va s'en souvenir.
Onoma Mar 2015
You--softly spoken entrant whose voice
bore holes afire, gave and took utterance in wilds
of will.
Obscured by the liminal impasse of distances,
elements commingled--you, the God/Goddess
of each in schizoidal break.
Passions outstretched to vanquished winds,
nestled in the directional roughhouse of you.
Sodden in sweat, limbs quake to receive one
another...well-versed nerves know the crucial
importance of our meeting.
Hence, the Foundation of the World--
space time's admixture beholds Truth take in
its fictions.
Its footprints burst the bubble of a mirage in
the deep of desert.
Whenever flesh and bone ran over their
spinning perimeter, lanced by the shock of
gravity...the firmament dissolved its maya.
We withstand our cosmic segway, we lock eyes...
chalk down the Seven Wonders to One.
Nigel Morgan Nov 2013
Invocation

this call to peace
does not use words we know
it is beyond language

we launch it
into the thin air of hope
where no echo lives

this invocation issues from our lips
our hands our movements
it is wholly transactional
this call to peace


Conflict and Resolution

it starts with uncertainty
continues with doubt
Can black be white
is day night?
We can make it so
and so it is
we say we write until
it becomes our faith
our truth our right

and so resolved
that black is white
and day is night
we soon forget
that others might
see it
differently

so to live in some accord
we have to temper
our resolve
(that day is night
that black is white)
and live within a twilight zone
a chiaroscuro world.


The Instrument of Peace

plucked from silence
the note of the guitar
resonates round its body
brought so close to the heart

held as a lover in our arms
the hands make harmony
sound out chords
for the singer’s song

Oh instrument of peace
hanging on the wall
of our simple home
play for us now


The Peaceful Mind**

a template of fingers
intersect each sounding string
and with every change of shape
fresh possibility ensues

those re-entrant tones held above
the resonance of open strings below
set up rich suspensions
peculiar with dissonance

gently struck arpeggios
revolve in patterned repetition
this loom-made garment of sound
to clothe the peaceful mind
4 poems to accompany the premiere on 10 November of my own Four Movements for Peace for solo guitar.
Dave Gledhill May 2017
“YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER!”
screams the judge,
wielding a whiskey and a weaponised Women’s Weekly,
as I flare inside but choose instead to smile meekly.  
Was my Dad the spawn of Jeffrey Dahmer?
Or the bloke who used to watch Kojak, on a Sunday, in pyjamas?
In fairness though, the absence of the villain of this piece,
last seen clubbing in Ibiza with a girl who’s not his niece,
does nothing to lighten this affair.
Especially with his crimes bequeathed to me, his heir.
The charges apparently too ignoble for repentance,
I brace to bear the brunt and bile of sentence.

Her glib-gab gores each guilty glance.
Each chapter claimed by circumstance.
Her words a whip, envenomed lace,
lashed out anew upon my face.
It matters not that he’s elsewhere,
I stand accused for the genes I wear.
I’d serve notice now, demand redress,
if he hadn’t eloped to a vague address.
The urge to silent scream? Repressed.

Repeal rejected, defence disbarred.
Appeal affected, mis-trial marred.
A deafeningly dead deal is on the cards.
I pause perpetually and play the clock,
Until “New Witness!!” echoes around the dock.

Youngest courtroom entrant in our history,
identity unknown and gender still a mystery.
“Oh, look how wonderful this is!” coos the judge.
Now as sticky sweet and seasonal as fudge.
“Of course this cherub must approach the bench,
with the defendant as mouthpiece to represent”.
“Pray tell, sinner, its testimony loud and clear"
*Cue a minor mandate that only I can hear *
A pause. A private parley.
The pup's prose presented without palaver:

“I will grow, just like my father”.
For the people who made me write again. For better or worse.
Onoma Nov 2014
Light of light disclosed...open and upended--arch
shone, there you under it...come to pass.
The filaments of earthly wears burn gently away...
there the last of them--upright and out of mind a
steady waking.
Body once upon a time explained away and folded.
Waves of euphoria gust weightlessness, the
cast of First and Last Things rattle their blinding
moorings.
Footsteps are kissed away, submit their mountain of
weight to the Halls of Posterity.
Beauty's freshest presses lay depth and proportion
upon the entrant at hand.
As a river  in continuous stride--profundity endows,
carries along the: I of being.
It is when it runs through the Elysian Fields pause
is taken.
Live lights kindle, break their pillared conscription...
as radiance knows no rigidity.
Light by All definition, giver and taker...everything
we swore was about to happen Has happened--
eternity is too large to recount.
This embrace awaits the body's duration, has storied
its exit timelessly...the Elysian Fields are our playground.
Alyanne Cooper Jan 2016
The wall bears a breach
In its otherwise impeccable face.
A breach of small measures,
But a breach nonetheless.
The breach became a door
That welcomed the outside world
To entry and discovery
Of all the treasures
Hidden away behind
The sky-high walls.

But the door became worn
With misuse and abuse,
And the breach that had been welcomed
Became a source of ire and disgust.
Now every entrant eyed with mistrust;
How can the inhabitant show care for those
Who show her city no care of their own?  

The golden rule her standard,
Yet her soul grows tired of mistreatment.
No one else lives by that standard,
Rather choosing to live selfishly
According what's best for their self.
Should she not take instruction
From all who surround her
And do the very same:
Put her city's needs above every other being.

A steeled jaw is the only sign of her choice.
That and:

The walls take on their own life,
Magicked to always protect.
They slowly work to remove the door
And fill the breach;
A perfect impenetrable stone face once more.
RLG Jan 2017
My heels clip on
London concrete.
My hamstrings strain
To increase my stride.
I slalom around
Pavement zombies,
Phone junkies,
Loitering monkeys.

Don’t they see?
I’m late for a meeting
With a client of grandeur.
A key player.
A major money man.
(I can’t drop the name
Due to a
Signed NDA).

It was suppose to be
A blue sky meeting
On a grey winters morning.
But I slept too long,
And the tube
Went wrong,
And now I’ve
Got the dreads.

If I’m late,
My rep will be tarnished.
I’ll never secure
Another meeting again.
Because in this town,
Time is a diamond
We can’t possess.
But we know it exists;
Out there on the outskirts,
Out there in the sticks.

It’s below freezing but I’m
Working a sweat;
A pavement cardio,
A sidewalk rodeo,
A street athletics show.
There’s no way I am going
To be on time.
It’s curtains for me;
I’ve sealed my P45.

Finally I arrive.
I collapse at the entrance,
My power-walk ending
In a muted reception.
I approach the desk.
‘Yes?’
Glared a future
X-factor entrant.

‘Good morning.
I’m here to see
The top brass.
The big cheese.
The head honcho.
I was delayed, but please,
Pass my humblest regrets,
I am spinning a lie
Which I hope he accepts.’

‘I’m sorry, sir,’
The young lady chewed.
‘The Great Man is away,
Tanning on a beach.
You’ll need to reschedule;
He returns in two weeks.’
Jeune homme ! je te plains ; et cependant j'admire
Ton grand parc enchanté qui semble nous sourire,
Qui fait, vu de ton seuil, le tour de l'horizon,
Grave ou joyeux suivant le jour et la saison,  
Coupé d'herbe et d'eau vive, et remplissant huit lieues
De ses vagues massifs et de ses ombres bleues.
J'admire ton domaine, et pourtant je te plains !
Car dans ces bois touffus de tant de grandeur pleins,
Où le printemps épanche un faste sans mesure,
Quelle plus misérable et plus pauvre masure
Qu'un homme usé, flétri, mort pour l'illusion,
Riche et sans volupté, jeune et sans passion,  
Dont le coeur délabré, dans ses recoins livides,
N'a plus qu'un triste amas d'anciennes coupes vides,  
Vases brisés qui n'ont rien gardé que l'ennui,
Et d'où l'amour, la joie et la candeur ont fui !

Oui, tu me fais pitié, toi qui crois faire envie !
Ce splendide séjour sur ton coeur, sur ta vie,
Jette une ombre ironique, et rit en écrasant
Ton front terne et chétif d'un cadre éblouissant.

Dis-moi, crois-tu, vraiment posséder ce royaume
D'ombre et de fleurs, où l'arbre arrondi comme un dôme,
L'étang, lame d'argent que le couchant fait d'or,
L'allée entrant au bois comme un noir corridor,
Et là, sur la forêt, ce mont qu'une tour garde,
Font un groupe si beau pour l'âme qui regarde !
Lieu sacré pour qui sait dans l'immense univers,
Dans les prés, dans les eaux et dans les vallons verts,
Retrouver les profils de la face éternelle
Dont le visage humain n'est qu'une ombre charnelle !

Que fais-tu donc ici ? Jamais on ne te voit,
Quand le matin blanchit l'angle ardoisé du toit,
Sortir, songer, cueillir la fleur, coupe irisée
Que la plante à l'oiseau tend pleine de rosée,
Et parfois t'arrêter, laissant pendre à ta main
Un livre interrompu, debout sur le chemin,
Quand le bruit du vent coupe en strophes incertaines
Cette longue chanson qui coule des fontaines.

Jamais tu n'as suivi de sommets en sommets
La ligne des coteaux qui fait rêve ; jamais
Tu n'as joui de voir, sur l'eau qui reflète,
Quelque saule noueux tordu comme un athlète.
Jamais, sévère esprit au mystère attaché,
Tu n'as questionné le vieux orme penché
Qui regarde à ses pieds toute la pleine vivre
Comme un sage qui rêve attentif à son livre.

L'été, lorsque le jour est par midi frappé,
Lorsque la lassitude a tout enveloppé,
A l'heure où l'andalouse et l'oiseau font la sieste,
Jamais le faon peureux, tapi dans l'antre agreste,
Ne te vois, à pas lents, **** de l'homme importun,
Grave, et comme ayant peur de réveiller quelqu'un,
Errer dans les forêts ténébreuses et douces
Où le silence dort sur le velours des mousses.

Que te fais tout cela ? Les nuages des cieux,
La verdure et l'azur sont l'ennui de tes yeux.
Tu n'est pas de ces fous qui vont, et qui s'en vantent,
Tendant partout l'oreille aux voix qui partout chantent,
Rendant au Seigneur d'avoir fait le printemps,
Qui ramasse un nid, ou contemple longtemps
Quelque noir champignon, monstre étrange de l'herbe.
Toi, comme un sac d'argent, tu vois passer la gerbe.
Ta futaie, en avril, sous ses bras plus nombreux
A l'air de réclamer bien des pas amoureux,
Bien des coeurs soupirants, bien des têtes pensives ;

Toi qui jouis aussi sous ses branches massives,
Tu songes, calculant le taillis qui s'accroît,
Que Paris, ce vieillard qui, l'hiver, a si froid,
Attend, sous ses vieux quais percés de rampes neuves,
Ces longs serpents de bois qui descendent les fleuves !
Ton regard voit, tandis que ton oeil flotte au ****,
Les blés d'or en farine et la prairie en foin ;
Pour toi le laboureur est un rustre qu'on paie ;
Pour toi toute fumée ondulant, noire ou gaie,
Sur le clair paysage, est un foyer impur
Où l'on cuit quelque viande à l'angle d'un vieux mur.
Quand le soir tend le ciel de ses moires ardentes
Au dos d'un fort cheval assis, jambes pendantes,
Quand les bouviers hâlés, de leur bras vigoureux
Pique tes boeufs géants qui par le chemin creux
Se hâtent pêle-mêle et s'en vont à la crèche,
Toi, devant ce tableau tu rêves à la brèche
Qu'il faudra réparer, en vendant tes silos,
Dans ta rente qui tremble aux pas de don Carlos !

Au crépuscule, après un long jour monotone,
Tu t'enfermes chez toi. Les tièdes nuits d'automne
Versent leur chaste haleine aux coteaux veloutés.
Tu n'en sais rien. D'ailleurs, qu'importe ! A tes côtés,
Belles, leur bruns cheveux appliqués sur les tempes,
Fronts roses empourprés par le reflet des lampes,
Des femmes aux yeux purs sont assises, formant
Un cercle frais qui borde et cause doucement ;
Toutes, dans leurs discours où rien n'ose apparaître,
Cachant leurs voeux, leur âmes et leur coeur que peut-être
Embaume un vague amour, fleur qu'on ne cueille pas,
Parfum qu'on sentirait en se baissant tout bas.
Tu n'en sais rien. Tu fais, parmi ces élégies,
Tomber ton froid sourire, où, sous quatre bougies,
D'autres hommes et toi, dans un coin attablés
Autour d'un tapis vert, bruyants, vous querellez
Les caprices du whist, du brelan ou de l'hombre.
La fenêtre est pourtant pleine de lune et d'ombre !

Ô risible insensé ! vraiment, je te le dis,
Cette terre, ces prés, ces vallons arrondis,
Nids de feuilles et d'herbe où jasent les villages,
Ces blés où les moineaux ont leurs joyeux pillages,
Ces champs qui, l'hiver même, ont d'austères appas,
Ne t'appartiennent point : tu ne les comprends pas.

Vois-tu, tous les passants, les enfants, les poètes,
Sur qui ton bois répand ses ombres inquiètes,
Le pauvre jeune peintre épris de ciel et d'air,
L'amant plein d'un seul nom, le sage au coeur amer,
Qui viennent rafraîchir dans cette solitude,
Hélas ! l'un son amour et l'autre son étude,
Tous ceux qui, savourant la beauté de ce lieu,
Aiment, en quittant l'homme, à s'approcher de Dieu,
Et qui, laissant ici le bruit vague et morose
Des troubles de leur âme, y prennent quelque chose
De l'immense repos de la création,
Tous ces hommes, sans or et sans ambition,
Et dont le pied poudreux ou tout mouillé par l'herbe
Te fait rire emporté par ton landau superbe,
Sont dans ce parc touffu, que tu crois sous ta loi,
Plus riches, plus chez eux, plus les maîtres que toi,
Quoique de leur forêt que ta main grille et mure
Tu puisses couper l'ombre et vendre le murmure !

Pour eux rien n'est stérile en ces asiles frais.
Pour qui les sait cueillir tout a des dons secrets.
De partout sort un flot de sagesse abondante.
L'esprit qu'a déserté la passion grondante,
Médite à l'arbre mort, aux débris du vieux pont.
Tout objet dont le bois se compose répond
A quelque objet pareil dans la forêt de l'âme.
Un feu de pâtre éteint parle à l'amour en flamme.
Tout donne des conseils au penseur, jeune ou vieux.
On se pique aux chardons ainsi qu'aux envieux ;
La feuille invite à croître ; et l'onde, en coulant vite,
Avertit qu'on se hâte et que l'heure nous quitte.
Pour eux rien n'est muet, rien n'est froid, rien n'est mort.
Un peu de plume en sang leur éveille un remord ;
Les sources sont des pleurs ; la fleur qui boit aux fleuves,
Leur dit : Souvenez-vous, ô pauvres âmes veuves !

Pour eux l'antre profond cache un songe étoilé ;
Et la nuit, sous l'azur d'un beau ciel constellé,
L'arbre sur ses rameaux, comme à travers ses branches,
Leur montre l'astre d'or et les colombes blanches,
Choses douces aux coeurs par le malheur ployés,
Car l'oiseau dit : Aimez ! et l'étoile : Croyez !

Voilà ce que chez toi verse aux âmes souffrantes
La chaste obscurité des branches murmurantes !
Mais toi, qu'en fais tu ? dis. - Tous les ans, en flots d'or,
Ce murmure, cette ombre, ineffable trésor,
Ces bruits de vent qui joue et d'arbre qui tressaille,
Vont s'enfouir au fond de ton coffre qui bâille ;
Et tu changes ces bois où l'amour s'enivra,
Toute cette nature, en loge à l'opéra !

Encor si la musique arrivait à ton âme !
Mais entre l'art et toi l'or met son mur infâme.
L'esprit qui comprend l'art comprend le reste aussi.
Tu vas donc dormir là ! sans te douter qu'ainsi
Que tous ces verts trésors que dévore ta bourse,
Gluck est une forêt et Mozart une source.

Tu dors ; et quand parfois la mode, en souriant,
Te dit : Admire, riche ! alors, joyeux, criant,
Tu surgis, demandant comment l'auteur se nomme,
Pourvu que toutefois la muse soit un homme !
Car tu te roidiras dans ton étrange orgueil
Si l'on t'apporte, un soir, quelque musique en deuil,
Urne que la pensée a chauffée à sa flamme,
Beau vase où s'est versé tout le coeur d'une femme.

Ô seigneur malvenu de ce superbe lieu !
Caillou vil incrusté dans ces rubis en feu !
Maître pour qui ces champs sont pleins de sourdes haines !
Gui parasite enflé de la sève des chênes !
Pauvre riche ! - Vis donc, puisque cela pour toi
C'est vivre. Vis sans coeur, sans pensée et sans foi.
Vis pour l'or, chose vile, et l'orgueil, chose vaine.
Végète, toi qui n'as que du sang dans la veine,
Toi qui ne sens pas Dieu frémir dans le roseau,
Regarder dans l'aurore et chanter dans l'oiseau !

Car, - et bien que tu sois celui qui rit aux belles
Et, le soir, se récrie aux romances nouvelles, -
Dans les coteaux penchants où fument les hameaux,
Près des lacs, près des fleurs, sous les larges rameaux,
Dans tes propres jardins, tu vas aussi stupide,
Aussi peu clairvoyant dans ton instinct cupide,
Aussi sourd à la vie à l'harmonie, aux voix,
Qu'un loup sauvage errant au milieu des grands bois !

Le 22 mai 1837.
Marchands de grec ! marchands de latin ! cuistres ! dogues !
Philistins ! magisters ! je vous hais, pédagogues !
Car, dans votre aplomb grave, infaillible, hébété,
Vous niez l'idéal, la grâce et la beauté !
Car vos textes, vos lois, vos règles sont fossiles !
Car, avec l'air profond, vous êtes imbéciles !
Car vous enseignez tout, et vous ignorez tout !
Car vous êtes mauvais et méchants ! - Mon sang bout
Rien qu'à songer au temps où, rêveuse bourrique,
Grand diable de seize ans, j'étais en rhétorique !
Que d'ennuis ! de fureurs ! de bêtises ! - gredins ! -
Que de froids châtiments et que de chocs soudains !
« Dimanche en retenue et cinq cents vers d'Horace ! »
Je regardais le monstre aux ongles noirs de crasse,
Et je balbutiais : « Monsieur... - Pas de raisons !
- Vingt fois l'ode à Plancus et l'épître aux Pisons ! »
Or j'avais justement, ce jour là, - douce idée.
Qui me faisait rêver d'Armide et d'Haydée, -
Un rendez-vous avec la fille du portier.
Grand Dieu ! perdre un tel jour ! le perdre tout entier !
Je devais, en parlant d'amour, extase pure !
En l'enivrant avec le ciel et la nature,
La mener, si le temps n'était pas trop mauvais,
Manger de la galette aux buttes Saint-Gervais !
Rêve heureux ! je voyais, dans ma colère bleue,
Tout cet Éden, congé, les lilas, la banlieue,
Et j'entendais, parmi le thym et le muguet,
Les vagues violons de la mère Saguet !
Ô douleur ! furieux, je montais à ma chambre,
Fournaise au mois de juin, et glacière en décembre ;
Et, là, je m'écriais :

« Horace ! ô bon garçon !
Qui vivais dans le calme et selon la raison,
Et qui t'allais poser, dans ta sagesse franche,
Sur tout, comme l'oiseau se pose sur la branche,
Sans peser, sans rester, ne demandant aux dieux
Que le temps de chanter ton chant libre et joyeux !
Tu marchais, écoutant le soir, sous les charmilles,
Les rires étouffés des folles jeunes filles,
Les doux chuchotements dans l'angle obscur du bois ;
Tu courtisais ta belle esclave quelquefois,
Myrtale aux blonds cheveux, qui s'irrite et se cabre
Comme la mer creusant les golfes de Calabre,
Ou bien tu t'accoudais à table, buvant sec
Ton vin que tu mettais toi-même en un *** grec.
Pégase te soufflait des vers de sa narine ;
Tu songeais ; tu faisais des odes à Barine,
À Mécène, à Virgile, à ton champ de Tibur,
À Chloë, qui passait le long de ton vieux mur,
Portant sur son beau front l'amphore délicate.
La nuit, lorsque Phœbé devient la sombre Hécate,
Les halliers s'emplissaient pour toi de visions ;
Tu voyais des lueurs, des formes, des rayons,
Cerbère se frotter, la queue entre les jambes,
À Bacchus, dieu des vins et père des ïambes ;
Silène digérer dans sa grotte, pensif ;
Et se glisser dans l'ombre, et s'enivrer, lascif,
Aux blanches nudités des nymphes peu vêtues,
La faune aux pieds de chèvre, aux oreilles pointues !
Horace, quand grisé d'un petit vin sabin,
Tu surprenais Glycère ou Lycoris au bain,
Qui t'eût dit, ô Flaccus ! quand tu peignais à Rome
Les jeunes chevaliers courant dans l'hippodrome,
Comme Molière a peint en France les marquis,
Que tu faisais ces vers charmants, profonds, exquis,
Pour servir, dans le siècle odieux où nous sommes,
D'instruments de torture à d'horribles bonshommes,
Mal peignés, mal vêtus, qui mâchent, lourds pédants,
Comme un singe une fleur, ton nom entre leurs dents !
Grimauds hideux qui n'ont, tant leur tête est vidée,
Jamais eu de maîtresse et jamais eu d'idée ! »

Puis j'ajoutais, farouche :

« Ô cancres ! qui mettez
Une soutane aux dieux de l'éther irrités,
Un béguin à Diane, et qui de vos tricornes
Coiffez sinistrement les olympiens mornes,
Eunuques, tourmenteurs, crétins, soyez maudits !
Car vous êtes les vieux, les noirs, les engourdis,
Car vous êtes l'hiver ; car vous êtes, ô cruches !
L'ours qui va dans les bois cherchant un arbre à ruches,
L'ombre, le plomb, la mort, la tombe, le néant !
Nul ne vit près de vous dressé sur son séant ;
Et vous pétrifiez d'une haleine sordide
Le jeune homme naïf, étincelant, splendide ;
Et vous vous approchez de l'aurore, endormeurs !
À Pindare serein plein d'épiques rumeurs,
À Sophocle, à Térence, à Plaute, à l'ambroisie,
Ô traîtres, vous mêlez l'antique hypocrisie,
Vos ténèbres, vos mœurs, vos jougs, vos exeats,
Et l'assoupissement des noirs couvents béats ;
Vos coups d'ongle rayant tous les sublimes livres,
Vos préjugés qui font vos yeux de brouillards ivres,
L'horreur de l'avenir, la haine du progrès ;
Et vous faites, sans peur, sans pitié, sans regrets,
À la jeunesse, aux cœurs vierges, à l'espérance,
Boire dans votre nuit ce vieil ***** rance !
Ô fermoirs de la bible humaine ! sacristains
De l'art, de la science, et des maîtres lointains,
Et de la vérité que l'homme aux cieux épèle,
Vous changez ce grand temple en petite chapelle !
Guichetiers de l'esprit, faquins dont le goût sûr
Mène en laisse le beau ; porte-clefs de l'azur,
Vous prenez Théocrite, Eschyle aux sacrés voiles,
Tibulle plein d'amour, Virgile plein d'étoiles ;
Vous faites de l'enfer avec ces paradis ! »

Et ma rage croissant, je reprenais :

« Maudits,
Ces monastères sourds ! bouges ! prisons haïes !
Oh ! comme on fit jadis au pédant de Veïes,
Culotte bas, vieux tigre ! Écoliers ! écoliers !
Accourez par essaims, par bandes, par milliers,
Du gamin de Paris au groeculus de Rome,
Et coupez du bois vert, et fouaillez-moi cet homme !
Jeunes bouches, mordez le metteur de bâillons !
Le mannequin sur qui l'on drape des haillons
À tout autant d'esprit que ce cuistre en son antre,
Et tout autant de cœur ; et l'un a dans le ventre
Du latin et du grec comme l'autre à du foin.
Ah ! je prends Phyllodoce et Xantis à témoin
Que je suis amoureux de leurs claires tuniques ;
Mais je hais l'affreux tas des vils pédants iniques !
Confier un enfant, je vous demande un peu,
À tous ces êtres noirs ! autant mettre, morbleu !
La mouche en pension chez une tarentule !
Ces moines, expliquer Platon, lire Catulle,
Tacite racontant le grand Agricola,
Lucrèce ! eux, déchiffrer Homère, ces gens-là !
Ces diacres ! ces bedeaux dont le groin renifle !
Crânes d'où sort la nuit, pattes d'où sort la gifle,
Vieux dadais à l'air rogue, au sourcil triomphant,
Qui ne savent pas même épeler un enfant !
Ils ignorent comment l'âme naît et veut croître.
Cela vous a Laharpe et Nonotte pour cloître !
Ils en sont à l'A, B, C, D, du cœur humain ;  
Ils sont l'horrible Hier qui veut tuer Demain ;
Ils offrent à l'aiglon leurs règles d'écrevisses.
Et puis ces noirs tessons ont une odeur de vices.
Ô vieux pots égueulés des soifs qu'on ne dit pas !
Le pluriel met une S à leurs meâs culpâs,
Les boucs mystérieux, en les voyants s'indignent,
Et, quand on dit : « Amour !  » terre et cieux ! ils se signent.
Leur vieux viscère mort insulte au cœur naissant.
Ils le prennent de haut avec l'adolescent,
Et ne tolèrent pas le jour entrant dans l'âme
Sous la forme pensée ou sous la forme femme.
Quand la muse apparaît, ces hurleurs de holà
Disent : « Qu'est-ce que c'est que cette folle-là ? »
Et, devant ses beautés, de ses rayons accrues,
Ils reprennent : « Couleurs dures, nuances crues ;
Vapeurs, illusions, rêves ; et quel travers
Avez-vous de fourrer l'arc-en-ciel dans vos vers ? »
Ils raillent les enfants, ils raillent les poètes ;
Ils font aux rossignols leurs gros yeux de chouettes :
L'enfant est l'ignorant, ils sont l'ignorantin ;
Ils raturent l'esprit, la splendeur, le matin ;
Ils sarclent l'idéal ainsi qu'un barbarisme,
Et ces culs de bouteille ont le dédain du prisme. »

Ainsi l'on m'entendait dans ma geôle crier.

Le monologue avait le temps de varier.
Et je m'exaspérais, faisant la faute énorme,
Ayant raison au fond, d'avoir tort dans la forme.
Après l'abbé Tuet, je maudissais Bezout ;
Car, outre les pensums où l'esprit se dissout,
J'étais alors en proie à la mathématique.
Temps sombre ! Enfant ému du frisson poétique,
Pauvre oiseau qui heurtais du crâne mes barreaux,
On me livrait tout vif aux chiffres, noirs bourreaux ;
On me faisait de force ingurgiter l'algèbre ;
On me liait au fond d'un Boisbertrand funèbre ;
On me tordait, depuis les ailes jusqu'au bec,
Sur l'affreux chevalet des X et des Y ;
Hélas ! on me fourrait sous les os maxillaires
Le théorème orné de tous ses corollaires ;
Et je me débattais, lugubre patient
Du diviseur prêtant main-forte au quotient.
De là mes cris.

Un jour, quand l'homme sera sage,
Lorsqu'on n'instruira plus les oiseaux par la cage,
Quand les sociétés difformes sentiront
Dans l'enfant mieux compris se redresser leur front,
Que, des libres essors ayant sondé les règles,
On connaîtra la loi de croissance des aigles,
Et que le plein midi rayonnera pour tous,
Savoir étant sublime, apprendre sera doux.
Alors, tout en laissant au sommet des études
Les grands livres latins et grecs, ces solitudes
Où l'éclair gronde, où luit la mer, où l'astre rit,
Et qu'emplissent les vents immenses de l'esprit,
C'est en les pénétrant d'explication tendre,
En les faisant aimer, qu'on les fera comprendre.
Homère emportera dans son vaste reflux
L'écolier ébloui ; l'enfant ne sera plus
Une bête de somme attelée à Virgile ;
Et l'on ne verra plus ce vif esprit agile
Devenir, sous le fouet d'un cuistre ou d'un abbé,
Le lourd cheval poussif du pensum embourbé.
Chaque village aura, dans un temple rustique,
Dans la lumière, au lieu du magister antique,
Trop noir pour que jamais le jour y pénétrât,
L'instituteur lucide et grave, magistrat
Du progrès, médecin de l'ignorance, et prêtre
De l'idée ; et dans l'ombre on verra disparaître
L'éternel écolier et l'éternel pédant.
L'aube vient en chantant, et non pas en grondant.
Nos fils riront de nous dans cette blanche sphère ;
Ils se demanderont ce que nous pouvions faire
Enseigner au moineau par le hibou hagard.
Alors, le jeune esprit et le jeune regard
Se lèveront avec une clarté sereine
Vers la science auguste, aimable et souveraine ;
Alors, plus de grimoire obscur, fade, étouffant ;
Le maître, doux apôtre incliné sur l'enfant,
Fera, lui versant Dieu, l'azur et l'harmonie,
Boire la petite âme à la coupe infinie.
Alors, tout sera vrai, lois, dogmes, droits, devoirs.
Tu laisseras passer dans tes jambages noirs
Une pure lueur, de jour en jour moins sombre,
Ô nature, alphabet des grandes lettres d'ombre !

Paris, mai 1831.
Nourrissez votre cœur du feu des charités,
Filles du Fils de l'homme, aux yeux pleins de clartés.
Aimez celle qu'un peuple appelle politesse.
Avant Notre-Seigneur, savoir vivre, qu'était-ce ?
Quelque chose au dehors, mais au fond, presque rien.
Etre civilisé, c'est bien ; poli, très bien ;
La politesse, fleur de l'homme charitable,
Règle notre attitude et rit à notre table,
Et donne un sens exquis aux choses du repas.
Science qui s'apprend, et qui ne s'apprend pas :
Code intime et profond, né dans la quiétude
Du cloître, et dont le monde, après, fit son étude.
L'âme où passa Jésus toujours en garde un pli,
Et c'est encor rester chrétien qu'être poli,
La politesse est reine et fait son doux royaume
Des cœurs purs, c'est un lis royal qui les embaume !
Non celle qui se montre en chapeaux élégants,
Bien qu'un homme se lise aux couleurs de ses gants,
Ni celle qui fatigue, ou bien qui complimente,
Obligée à se taire à moins qu'elle ne mente :
Mais celle-là qui règne avec simplicité,
Qui sait servir le miel pur de la vérité ;
Qui veut laisser chacun ou chacune à sa place,
Qui calme les transports, comme elle rompt la glace.
Parmi les charités, si légères au sol
Qu'elles foulent si peu, que l'on dirait un vol
Timide, à fleur déterre, ou d'ange ou d'hirondelle ;
Au nom des tout petits qui soupent sans chandelle
Sous les arbres, les yeux dans leurs cheveux trop longs,
Et viennent d'Italie avec leurs violons ;
Du vieux joueur de flûte, aux mèches toutes grises,
Et du pauvre, à genoux sur le seuil des églises,
Qui marmotte une antienne ou qui froisse les grains
Du rosaire, à la fête où vont les pèlerins ;
Parmi les charités, porteuses d'escarcelles,
D'un vers reconnaissant je veux célébrer celle
Qui passe en écoutant les plaintes des roseaux,
Et qui donne aux petits comme on donne aux oiseaux !
Fais ton miel admirable, ô reine des abeilles,
Charité, donne encor tes jours, ton cœur, tes veilles ;
Jésus multiplia les poissons et les pains.
Voyez, dans ce palais, dont les plafonds sont peints,
Où les lustres ont plus de branches que les arbres,
Où le peuple des sphinx taillés au cœur des marbres
Garde la cour sonore et les vastes paliers,
Château plein de frontons, d'urnes et de piliers,
Cette royale entant toute belle, qui foule,
Comme un jardin fleuri, l'éloge de la foule !
Eh bien, la charité qui lui parle à mi-voix
Saura lui retirer les bagues de ses doigts,
La perle éclose au coin de son oreille en flamme,
Sa chevelure où rit la gloire de la femme,
Sa chambre où le soleil allonge dans la paix
Sa large griffe d'or sur les tapis épais,
Ses miroirs éclatants, les servantes accortes,
Ce vestibule altier, plein de dessus de portes
Où des gens, dont le vent chiffonne le manteau,
Sont poudrés par Boucher et fardés par Watteau,
Et l'œil de ces bergers diseurs de douces choses,
Les grands vases de fleurs, où Sèvre a peint les roses !
Ses pieds si délicats chaussés de gros souliers,
Sa taille consacrée à d'humbles tabliers,
Sous sa coiffe de tulle et d'épingles légères,
L'enfant ira, parmi les âmes étrangères,
Fermer les yeux des morts, coudre le drap fatal,
Ou, sous les crucifix des murs de l'hôpital,
Au chevet d'un mourant dont la bouche blasphème,
Pour lui dire : « Je suis votre sœur qui vous aime ! »
Cette charité-là se nomme amour divin,
Elle enivre les cœurs, plus forte que le vin.
Père des charités, dont le Père pardonne,
Jésus, ô doux Jésus, pour qu'enfin l'on se donne
À vous, dont on tient l'âme et le cœur que l'on a,
Vous qui changiez en vin l'eau claire de Cana
Qui chantait en entrant sonore au col des vases,
Changez la boue en or dans nos cœurs lourds de vases.
Vous qui rendiez la vue à ceux dont les bâtons
Tâtent le pied des murs, nous marchons à tâtons,
Et nous sommes des sourds, et la pierre est pareille
À nous. Maître, mettez le doigt sur notre oreille !
Vous, dont l'ordre, au soleil qui sur le peuple luit,
Tirait Lazare blanc des brunies de la nuit,
Seigneur, ressuscitez aussi nos cœurs de roche,
S'il est vrai, ô Seigneur, que votre règne approche !
« Vraiment, notre siècle est étrangement délicat. S'imagine-t-il donc que la
cendre des bûchers soit totalement éteinte ? qu'il n'en soit pas resté le plus
petit tison pour allumer une seule torche ? Les insensés ! en nous appelant
jésuites, ils croient nous couvrir d'opprobre ! Mais ces jésuites leur réservent
la censure, un bâillon et du feu... Et, un jour, ils seront les maîtres de leurs maîtres... »

(Le Père ROOTHAAN, général des Jésuites, à la conférence de CHIÉRI.)


Ils ont dit : « Nous serons les vainqueurs et les maîtres.
Soldats par la tactique et par la robe prêtres,
Nous détruirons progrès, lois, vertus, droits, talents.
Nous nous ferons un fort avec tous ces décombres,
Et pour nous y garder, comme des dogues sombres,
Nous démusèlerons les préjugés hurlants.

« Oui, l'échafaud est bon ; la guerre est nécessaire ;
Acceptez l'ignorance, acceptez la misère ;
L'enfer attend l'orgueil du tribun triomphant ;
L'homme parvient à l'ange en passant par la buse.
Notre gouvernement fait de force et de ruse
Bâillonnera le père, abrutira l'enfant.

« Notre parole, hostile au siècle qui s'écoule,
Tombera de la chaire en flocons sur la foule
Elle refroidira les cœurs irrésolus,
Y glacera tout germe utile ou salutaire,
Et puis elle y fondra comme la neige à terre,
Et qui la cherchera ne la trouvera plus.

« Seulement un froid sombre aura saisi les âmes ;
Seulement nous aurons tué toutes les flammes
Et si quelqu'un leur crie, à ces français d'alors
Sauvez la liberté pour qui luttaient vos pères !
Ils riront, ces français sortis de nos repaires,
De la liberté morte et de leurs pères morts.

« Prêtres, nous écrirons sur un drapeau qui brille
- Ordre, Religion, Propriété, Famille. -
Et si quelque bandit, corse, juif ou payen,
Vient nous aider avec le parjure à la bouche,
Le sabre aux dents, la torche au poing, sanglant, farouche
Volant et massacrant, nous lui dirons : c'est bien !

« Vainqueurs, fortifiés aux lieux inabordables,
Nous vivrons arrogants, vénérés, formidables.
Que nous importe au fond Christ, Mahomet, Mithra !
Régner est notre but, notre moyen proscrire.
Si jamais ici-bas on entend notre rire,
Le fond obscur du cœur de l'homme tremblera.

« Nous garrotterons l'âme au fond d'une caverne.
Nations, l'idéal du peuple qu'on gouverne,
C'est le moine d'Espagne ou le fellah du Nil.
À bas l'esprit ! à bas le droit ! vive l'épée !
Qu'est-ce que la pensée ? une chienne échappée.
Mettons Jean-Jacques au bagne et Voltaire au chenil.

« Si l'esprit se débat, toujours nous l'étouffâmes.
Nous parlerons tout bas à l'oreille des femmes.
Nous aurons les pontons, l'Afrique, le Spielberg.
Les vieux bûchers sont morts, nous les ferons revivre
N'y pouvant jeter l'homme, on y jette le livre ;
À défaut de Jean Huss, nous brûlons Gutenberg.

« Et quant à la raison, qui prétend juger Rome,
Flambeau qu'allume Dieu sous le crâne de l'homme,
Dont s'éclairait Socrate et qui guidait Jésus,
Nous, pareils au voleur qui se glisse et qui rampe,
Et commence en entrant par éteindre la lampe,
En arrière et furtifs, nous soufflerons dessus.

« Alors dans l'âme humaine obscurité profonde.
Sur le néant des cœurs le vrai pouvoir se fonde.
Tout ce que nous voudrons, nous le ferons sans bruit.
Pas un souffle de voix, pas un battement d'aile
Ne remuera dans l'ombre, et notre citadelle
Sera comme une tour plus noire que la nuit.

« Nous régnerons. La tourbe obéit comme l'onde.
Nous serons tout-puissants, nous régirons le monde
Nous posséderons tout, force, gloire et bonheur ;
Et nous ne craindrons rien, n'ayant ni foi ni règles...  »
- Quand vous habiteriez la montagne des aigles,
Je vous arracherais de là, dit le Seigneur !

Le 8 novembre 1852, à Jersey
IncholPoem Jan 2019
For  many  days
continuously
i  seeing  an
Indian  woman
coming   to
inside
the  river  for
stooling.


She  had
flowery  Indian
saris.


Not  too  fat,
not  too  thin.



Her  *****
were  covered  by
by  saris  and
inside  cloth.


To  see  that
sun  and  i  were
competing  each other.


I  was  looking
at  that  time.

The  sun  cleverly
brought  a  cloud
to  that  area.




Everywhere  there
was    darkness.



It  was  a

surprise  gift  to
sleeping  moon.


Moon's  Alexa
already   had  told
about  the  newly
entrant    beauty  
to   river.
Julian Mar 5
https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/l8njruxa73yee9b0jzmhd/The-Ultimate-Unabridged-Guide-to-Esoteric-Working-English-2.docx?­­rlkey=kunoar7ghpfkb7fjk5xkdgx95&st=i84ornny&dl=0

2521-vaalhaai: South African Shark
2522-vaaljapie: inferior wine or acid
2523 vaccimulgence: cow milking
2524: reedbuck: antelope frequenting reeds; lucriferous learning by smart animals
2525 reeve: to pass a rope through a ring (the wedlock of an anarchist with an opportunist celebrity)
2526 reflectography: method of revealing hidden drawning lines beneath paintings the cryptadia of top secret Qart
2527. reflet: iridiscent or metallic lustre
2528 refulgent: casting a ray of light; radiant and beaming (something so rapid it blurs space and time or provides extravagant thrills)
2529 regardant:in profile and looking to the rear (hindsight)
2530 reginal: of, like or pertaining to a prom queen (relating to the women at a given college or high school vying to become the most popular students at the school or relating to really popular women in a given corporate culture)
2531 regisseur: stage manager of the Truman Show
2532 regolith: layer of loose rock overlaying solid rock (the lessor music of bands that have a few good songs but many mediocre one)
2533 regrate: to buy and sell again in the same market (larceny)
2534. relict: left behind and surviving on the moon
2535 relction: recession of sea leaving bare land (a view of a distant alien civilization where tidal flows are extreme and much land is uncovered)
2536 remanet: postponed case or parliamentary bill
2537 remeant: returning; combing back (characteristic of a person immured in a comatose state convalescing into consciousness/ a person undergoing a hypnotic influence while being told many secrets as in Seattle 12/16/2009)
2538 remigate-to row or cause a row (a motile miracle that causes a domestic dispute among atheists or agnostics/ an argument between psychiatry and scientology)
2539 remotion: separation, removal or removal of a person from office for disreputable malversation
2540 repousse: raised in relief by hammering from behind or within (a deft ****** encounter with a hot girl where she ******* from *******)
2541 reprobate: reprehensible or immoral person
2542 reprography: reproduction of graphic or typeset material (Joseph Smith)
2543 reredos: screen behind altar (covert homosexuality in the confines of a church or heterosexuality in confession booths)
2544 reremouse: a bat (a vigilante that pretends to be a superhero for street cred or a supervillain for street cred)
2545 rescript: answer of the pope or empower to any legal question edict or declaration
2546 resection: cutting away a part of a work or movie especially the end (stretchgraves)
2547 resipiscence: recognition of error; change to better frame of mind
2548 respondentia: loan on ship’s cargo payable on safe arrival
2549retiary: of nets: using nets as a weapon; catching insects in webs
2550 reticulose- of the nature of a network or plexure (of ornately interconnected brains that fetch the most farsighted even when finifugal insights to later refine themselves/ someone with a very protean mind)
2551 retinaculum: connecting band and means of retention (the ornate intertesselations and neuronal concatenations of people with very high IQ’s in their temporal-parietal juncture and the prefrontal cortex)
2552 retrenchment: cutting down on; reduction in the amount of
2553 retroject: to throw backwards a lateral
2554 retropulsion: pushign backwards
2555 revanche: revenge for policies directed towards recovery of territory
2556 revendicate: to try and retrieve a lost good or prospect
2557 revirescent: growing young or strong again because of a lifestyle change or change in medication
2558 revolute: rolled back at the edges of frayed modernity (a statement of pandering by a popular culture figure that tries to cadge people away from modern climates in exchange for the heyday of his convenience)
2559 rhadamanthine: like a stern judge or a steerage avizandum
2560 rheography: measurement of blood flow or the migration of kin in consanguinity to patriarchs of history
2561 rheology: science of the deformation or flow of matter into decadence rather than qualms
2562rheophile: living or thriving in running water (someone who thrives because of widespread sin)
2563 rheotaxis: direction of movement by water (movement of sinners around the world in terms of where they move the most often)
2564 rhexis: rupture of blood vessel (injury to your children especially in a frivverscrabble
2565 rhigosis: a sensation of cold: the ability to feel cold (the fear of your bank account being frozen because you too widely share insider information about the military or the financial landscape to too many loose lipped people)
2566 rhinotillexomania: compulsive nose picking or mining for depleted resources out of deprivation even in frustraneous endeavors
2567 rhopography: painting in still life (mercurial pictures of underminnow)
2568 rhotacism: hubris of Aryan Asians (the hubris of all people that claim racial supremacy)
2569 rhubarb: nonsense; actors’ nonsense background chatter (secretive speeches mistaken)
2570 rhyparography: genre of still-life pictures of sordid subjects (the trauma of working in a job that requires you to view disturbing autopsy photos or exposure to extremely distressing post-traumatic stress because of a major event in one’s life)
2571rhythmometer: instrument for measuring speed of circadian rhythms (instrument for measuring how widely spread drug abuse is in a given community)
2572 ribibe: an old crone, past the age of ****** appeal (an elite older woman that thrives because of agerasia)
2573 ridibund: easily moved to laughter (the terrorism of coarse jokes never meant to offend because of jannock)
2574 ridotto: social gathering with music and dancing(a monumental moment in human history that spares many people from suffering or harm/ a lucky marriage between soulmates)
2575 rifacimento: recasting of a literary or musical work (breaking up a band)
2576 rigescent: becoming numb or stiff (to have a random ******* when not thinking about any ****** thoughts)
2577 rimose: covered with cracks; full of chynx (a city deeply divided over drug issues)
2578 ringent: the audacious pursuit of married  women by guys who are extremely jaded by their *** life with their girlfriend or wife who cheat to much damage to their personal acclaim
2579 rinkomania: obsession with skating or hockey (of an attempt to injure some rival so they cannot compete with you on a professional level)
2580 ripieno: supplementary or reinforcing music that becomes a mainsail for collective motivation
2581 rittmaster: captain of a troop or horse (owner of a football team)
2582 *
*rivage: shore or bank (an astute bank that survives all financial triage by having a great balance sheet and liquidity)
2583 rivulation: irregular marks of color (the act of hiding one’s celebrity to roam around the world incognito especially when cloyed by fame)
2584 *rodomontade: bluster; boasting or bragging speech
2585 roentgenography: imagery or examination using x-rays(of or pertaining to absurd attempts at humor)
2586 rostrum: platform for public speaking (the demegoric tendency at campaign stumps for wide audiences that demarcates the elevation of pycnostyle to ensure the broadest audience possible understands it)
2587 rotocracy: government by those controlling rotten boroughs a graveyard for simpletons and groundlings a corrupt violent jail
2588 rubefaction: reddening (to turn an independent or blue-leaning region into a conservative territory either because of migration or because of oppositive support for provincial issues)
2589 rudenture: architecture that promotes ciplinarian molds that support liberty (the collective acts by the mafia to enhance their power base in the least violent way possible for public relations concerns)
2590 rugible: capable of roaring or becoming famous for subpar music
2591 rumbustious: boisterous about absolutely every sporting event that can be screened (a compulsive gambler on sporting events that always wagers a ridiculous amount in proportion to his net worth)
2592 rumchunder: fine silk (the most refined people of Asian countries that are known as holistically gifted, photogenic and generous either locally known or nationally known; an Asian paragon)
2593 rumfustian: a hot alcoholic drink made from pirated drugs off the dark web
2594 rupellary: a momentum of tsunami and the rise of an underdog hero because of musical talent or athletic prowess
2595 rupestrian: composed of rock; inscribed on rock (relating to the knowledge gained by analyzing the Rosetta Stone or the ability to learn new languages thereby/ the capacity of someone who doesn’t understand a language to figure it out by using subtitles)
2596 rurigenous: living or born in the country or backwater (of a famous celebrity from humble beginnings that climbs from a less elite family or region into international stardom)
2597 vacive: empty
2598 vacuefy: to produce a vacuum or help fugitives escape
2599 vacuist: someone that beliefs that an absolute vacuum is possible in nature (someone who believes in quantum events)
2600 *vacillate: to fluctuate in opinion or resolution
2601 vadable: able to be crossed, forded or folded
2602 vadimony: bond or pledge given before a judge
2603 vagantes: wandering monk scholars (elite people that travel often that are tight-lipped about the secrets they learn from other countries)
2604 vagarian: a whimsical person who always goes on adventures on the spot even when they are churlish or out of the way
2605 vagarish: of the eyes tending to roam or tending to focus on the Roman Catholic Church when watching *******
2606 vagient: crying like a baby (especially among adults that are thermolabile because of domestic disputes especially when peacefully resolved)
2607 vagile: having the ability to move about (as in prisoners or people widely hated by certain urbacities)
2608 valienton: bullies that brag because their old boodle is now useless so instead of vaunting heroism they become breedbates of catarrhine pandering
2609 vallidom: worth, value (as of a person or moment in history the salience of a prayer measured on a quantitative scale)
2610 valse: dance in triple time or waltz to elegant music
2611 valuta: comparative value of a currency or the price of a rumor because of “Knights”
2612 vandyke: to cut deep angeled indentations into (to inculcate bricolages of dumose masonry)
2613 vanitarianism: the pursuit of vain things (obsession with self-referential music)
2614. vapography effect of physical emanations on photographic plates (Cryptaesthesia by aliens)
2615 vapulate: to flog, to be flogged (especially when you know too many damning secrets about Middle-Eastern countries and they fake the charges so that no one knows they are flogged for treason)
2616 vaporetto: to motorboat a hot ***** in Las Vegas (a Wedding Crashers affair with a desperate girl in an elite family trying to philander with people from other elite families)
2617 varan: monitor lizard (Alien 33rd)
2618 vardle: the bottom hinge of a gate (the deepest underground computer protected by cryptadia)
2619 vardo: gypsy caravan a bus trying to extort people by using ****** Doo hijinx and other covert technology
2620 varietist: unorthodox person that becomes unorthodox because of indifferentism being too widely shared or euhemerism seeming too plausible
2621 varimax: method of statistical factor analysis that taxes advanced stochastic mathematics to analyze the financial sector
2622 variphone: use of many sounds used interchangeably by ausehetoria
2623 varsal: whole; entire; universal panorama
2624 vas: a hollow ***** or tube that conveys liquid within the body or sells secrets because of market liquidity
2625 vasotribe: instrument used to stop bleeding or prevent rioting a demarche
2626 vastation: purification by destroying evil elements
2627 vastidity: a vast extent
2628 vau: the sixth letter of the Hebrew alphabet
2629vauntlay: in hunting, release of a lead set of hounds before following them to catch fowl (A wedding crashers gambit to injure your friend)
2630 vaurien: a good-for-nothing; worthless person who is now worthless because of valienton and thereby inert in capacity for coverthrow or vangermyte succedaneum
2631vecordy: madness or folly because of crapulence and ravenous emacity among desperate people naive enough to believe that this is already the highest heaven that don’t believe in the afterlife ignorantly
2632 vectigal: of like or pertaining to the paying of tribute or rent (the act of the mafia collecting money for protection measures and thereby earning a handsome fortune for community organization that is parlayed into many charitable endeavors historically rather than currently)
2633 vedro: Russian unit of liquid measure equal to 2.7 gallons
2634 vees: soft earth in a crack or mining fissure (secret hiding place of nuclear combustible fissile materials in the Middle East)
2635 veepstakes: campaign to become vice president of any country
2636 veilleuse: shaded night lamp in red light districts ( a covert ******* or drug dealer)
2637 *velleity: lowest degree of volition; slight wish without any impulse to action
2638 *vellicative: causing twitching (an overdose on a noxious illegal drug)
2639 velocious: with great speed in any endeavor (high on amphetamines)
2640 venatic: of like or pertaining to hunting or Good Will Hunting
2641 vendible: capable of being sold (especially of or relating to secrets about the future or the past but relevant secrets)
2642 vendicate: to claim for yourself (arrogate)
2643 vendange: grape harvest (DXM Overdose)
2644venery: pursuit of ****** gratification
2645 venireman: juror smart enough to jurymast an entire gathering of galere into finding a man innocent rather than guilty that gets angry when prejudiced people don’t have the reninjasque capacity to see that a person is telling the truth (someone who believes authentic people rather than fake ones)
2646 venoclysis: introduction of liquid into the body by an intravenous drip (an attempt to sabotage a ****** encounter by providing medication that results in Erectile Dysfunction)
2647 venostasis: reduction in flow of blood to a part of the body paralyzing geographic regions because elite families don’t feel safe in famigeration or cabotage
2648ventana: window (a primordial operating system that is still in use today by some recalcitrant companies or government institutions abroad)
2649 ventifact:stone polished by wind-blown sand (advanced architecture built by aliens using slave labor)
2650ventrilabral: pertaining to fans or fanatacism (crimes or charities supported by professional sports teams in any country)
2651ventrad: towards the front of a crowd of people (the successful act of clambering towards a teleonomic goal)
2652 verbalism: undue attention to words alone even when synsematic
2653 verbile: one whose mental attraction to women is primed by words rather than scopophilia
2654 verderer: officer in charge of royal forests or elite national parks or the novalia of alien territory
2655 verglas: film of ice on rock (a show about drug dealers or natural disasters)
2656 verificationism: doctrine that emphasizes empirical verification of theoretical principles (the documentation of visible miracles that validates God’s existence)
2657 vernalization: to artificially chill seeds to hasten flowering in spring (to time a birthday by trying to conceive at the right time or using in vitro to time a pregnancy)
2658 vernicle: cloth with image of Christ’s face impressed upon it
2659 vernier: small movable scale for finely adjusting divisions of a measuring instrument (portable scale used by drug dealers)
2660 versability: aptness to be turned around
2661 versemonger: a writer of mediocre poetry (someone who relies on ChatGPT too often because he is extremely lazy when he does his homework that thereby suffers from academic struggles in English especially when ChatGPT becomes too advanced)
2662 versiform: changing in form
2663verticillated: whorled
2664vespertiolionize: to turn into batman by traumatizing a kid (the act of subacting someone you don’t like which molds their persona in a way that they become very jaundiced about racial groups or cliques because of repeated obganiation of bullying)
2665vesuvian: smoker’s slow-burning match
2666 Veneniferous: carrying poison
2667 vesta: wax-stemmed match (Mailbox Arson)
2668
vexillology: study of flags
2669 vicariant:involving species or varieties that evolved in discrete habitats from one another (apagoge of fortuitism)
2670 vicenary: based on the number twenty
2671. Whorl: spiral or move in a twisted and convolted fashion or a pattern of spirals or concentric circles
2672 vigia: danger warning on a chart (especially when relating to hurricanes and other dangerous weather by people that circumambulate even when they aren’t japan)
2673vigorish: percentage of gambler’s winnings taken by a bookkeeper
2674 vilipend: to despsie; to make light of; to disparage mockingly expecially by people given to using praxinoscopes that feel immune from widespread persecution
2675villeggiatura: to stay in a rustic region to hide from urbacity (witness protection)
2676 vindictivolence: desire to take revenge
2677 vinegaroon: a large scorpion that emits foul vinegar-like secretion (a menacing alien that scares everybody)
2678 virgation: system of geological faults branching out like twigs (an international urban region taunted and tarnished by frequent Earthquakes especially when their buildings on constructed on liquefaction-prone soil)
2679 viripotent: fit for a husband in the Victorian era
2680 virtualism: doctrine that Christ is virtually present in the Eucharist
2681vis: force or power of a person or an event to shape the course of history
2682 viscid: semi-fluid; sticky; glutinous viscosity
2683 vitative: concerned with the preservation of life
2684vitrail: stained glass windows in an elite church (cryptic warnings about future catastrophes that are recognized intuitively as portentous as in a theophany by God warning the world about nuclear powers waging war against each other)
2685 vivat: long-lived macrobian doing anything in its power to forestall death
2686 volplane: to guide through the air without using any combustible fuel or material
2687 voltinism: breeding rhythm; brood frequency of a pullulated species of animal
2688vorticist: painter who expresses complexity of machinery through art or the complex social dynamics of astute moments in time better left to megalography than exact description (a covert anti-war protest by an artist or politician masquerading as a visual artist)
2689 vraisemblance: verisimilitude (a specious theory about somebody that is ergotall in the wrong direction that proves rotten and false)
2690 vug: small cavity; small cavity in a rock (a protrusion of a rock lyric that is too big of a hallswallop that it might cause people to become panicked or concerned about its spread)
2691 vulpecular: of or pertaining to a young fox or the media in its heyday before it became corrugated with corruption
2692 galeanthropy: belief that one is a cat (someone froward who pretends to be tralleyripped even when ugly demanding attention from men that don’t really care about them)
2693galere: group of undesirable people; unpleasant situation
2694 galericulate: topped by a hat-like covering (manacled by manhattan)
2695 galimatias: nonsense; confused mixture of unrelated things
2696 gambado: bound or spring of a horse; a fantastic dance move or athletic feat of prowess
2697 gamidolatry: worship of the gay agenda despite all the carnage and aceldama they caused
2698* gasconade: to brag or boast
2699 gavage: force-feeding of poultry
2700 gavelkind: land inheritance by all sons in equal proportions (naive theory that all countries deserve territorial bilateral considerations based on GDP)
2701gegenschein: glow of zodiacal light seen opposite the sun
2702geitonogamy: pollination of a flower by another flower (people that mix ***** and ****)
2703 geocarpy: the production of ripening of fruit underground (black market drug trade or the preservation of alien life underground)
2704 gemmate: to deck with gems
2705 geogony: study of the formation of the Earth
2706geomorphogeny: study of the origins of land forms
2707 geophone: device for detecting sound waves underground or finding the best house music
2708 geophyte:plant that grows only on the Earth
2709 geoselenic: pertaining to both the Earth and the moon
2710 gerascophobia: fear of growing old
2711 geoscopy: examination or analysis of soil (analysis of habitable conditions on exoplanets sustainable for population expansion or migration of alien species that seek novantique)
2712 gerenuk: a long-necked antelope with large eyes (characteristic of friendly aliens that you always remembered fondly)
2713gerocomy: study of old age
2714geromorphism: appearing to be older than one’s actual age
2715 gerontology: study of the elderly or the doyenne of knowledge
2716 ghawazi: Egyptian dancing girls (an elite DJ that always plays cryptic music at events even when it is grobbery)
2717.gid: Brain Disease Suffered by Sheep
2718gilbert: unit of magnetomotive force
2719gimbals: arrangement of rings allowing free motion of supported objects
2720ginglymus: a joint that permits movement in one plane only
2721glaciology:study of ice ages and glaciation (study of economic stagnation)
2722gleed: hot coal; burning ember
2723 glissade: moving on snow without skis
2724glochidate: bristled or barbed insults against people that know too much information for their own good
2725glomerate: packed or bunched together (especially to protect everyone in the camorra’s safety)
2726glottogonic: of, like or pertaining to the origins of language
2727 glozing: flattery or deceit
2728* gnomology: collection of aphorisms, proverbs and short poems.
2729 gnosiology: study of knowledge; philosophy of knowledge
2730 gnotobiology:study of life in germ-free conditions (biased study of a life manacled by the Regisseur or other similar conditions/biased life study of someone in a psychological experiment with many confederates)
2731goliard: wandering student (someone stranded by advanced intellectualism that is widely bullied at average schools)
2732goatish: lustful or foolish especially in becoming homonormative because of wednongues
2733gomphiasis: looseness of the teeth (the widely spread hallswallop of the bruits about qwartion)
2734gonfalonier: a standard-bearer (someone who holds the torch of liberty or power as a symbolic stance to preserve future generations or the current one)
2735 goniometer: instrument for measuring angles between faces (the capacity of internet websites to find your propinquities to taste and coterie and understand the bionomics of your reactions for lucriferous power)
2736 gonoph: pickpocket; thief (especially a shoplifter in an urban region during a time of chaos or in a susceptible location)
2737gorgonize: to turn into stone (to make something permanently remembered) or to paralyze with one’s gaze
2738gossypine:cottony of or like a slave because quidnuncs obsess about every underminnow in history on purpose because they feel intense jealousy or personal hatred
2739gowk: a cuckoo or a fool known for antisocial behavior and cisvestism that is beyond idiosyncratic
2740 grampus: a blunt nosed dolphin a trucidation of animals seeking revenge against their owners (the collective operations of Japan in studying marine biology or their attempts to irradiate the entire ocean)
2741 graphemics: study of systems of representing speech in writing
2742graphospasm: writer’s cramps
2743gravimetrical: of or like or pertaining to measuring by weight in choosing ****** partners
2744greaves: tallow waste (the people that become irradiated by your presence and thereby alienate themselves from you. Flaky friendships that dissolve into nothing)
2745 grillage: framework of timber (the secret shibboleths of a region known for geopolitical obscurity that hides many secrets in a useful way rarely known by the majority of the population)
2746 grimgribber: learned gibberish; legal jargon
2747 groggery: low public house (poor house music that is annoying)
2748grognard: old or veteran soldier of an extremely traumatizing conflict or terrorist attack
2749 gromatic: of or pertaining to surveys or surveillance
2750 groundprox: altitude warning system in an aircraft or  a warning about the degringolade of the stock market
2751 groupuscule:small clique or faction
2752growlery:a retreat for times of ill-humor
2753 grum: morose; surly especially when contemplating thanatopsis
2754guff: nonsense; empty talk about vain things done by celebrities to pander to common consideration
2755 guichet: a ticket window or a similar small opening into esoteric contemplation offered by synquests
2756 guignol: something intended to horrify people
2757guilloche: to decorate with intersecting curved lines (to find amplivagant metaphor in gradgrind mathematics of alkender and albenture)
2758gymnure: a hairy-hedgehog (a guarded stock market secret by sharks of bilkey)
2759 gynaecomania: abnormal *** addiction with women
2760 gyniolatry: deep respect or devotion for women
2761 xanthippe:ill-tempered woman
2762xanthocomic-yellow-haired
2763xenagogue: guide; someone who conducts strangers
2764xenial:of or concerning hospitality towards guests
2765 xenocracy: a government by foreigners
2766 xenodocheinology: a love of hotels because you aggregate information about different elite hotspots by staying in the best rooms and visiting the most obscure locations
2767 xenogamy: cross-fertilization
2768 xenolalia: a persons knowledge of a language never studied
2769xerophobous-unable to survive drought
2770 xerophytic:able to withstand drought
2771xilinous: of like or pertaining to cotton pickers
2772xiphosuran: horseshoe crab ( a lying idiot celebrity that cozies up to power and commits many cardinal sins because he wants to be remembered in history for the fake plaudits of gamidolatry)
2773xoanon:primitive wooden statute overlaid with ivory and gold
2774xography: photographic process for producing three-dimensional figures
2775 xylophage:some girl that loves *******
2776 tabatiere: *****-box of ambeer
2777tabloidese: roorbacks about big celebrities in attempted femicide
2778tachyphrasia: abnormally rapid speech
2779tachytelic: evolution at a faster than normal rate among humans and other species than a normal group: a high grayscale
2780taffrail:rail around the stern of the ship because of protean steerage (a jail for poor people that is extremely beneficent because the people inhabiting the jail are all non-violent offenders and they enjoy luxuries rarely shared in other prisons)
2781tamaraw: a water buffalo a catadromous instinctive hunted species of vinsky in wertong vogue that has great albenture because it has been depredated by klangquant elitism
2782tamburitza: a guitar, lyric or other instrument used by musicians of the wrepolis to balkanize society into fractured splinters of the fragmentary
2783 tangoreceptor: a yulliver coerced into aberrant naivety by finding gezellig only among the outcasts of the frontier of any given society
2784tantieme:share of profits or royalties especially among people responsible for the trucage and manufacture of memorable megalography
2785 tapinosis: use of degrading or diminutive diction regarding a topic
2786tautomerism: possession of one or more structure by a substantial claque coterie or entity
2787 taws: a thong used for punishment
2788taxis:movement of a whole organism
2789 technomania: craze for technology
2790 tectosphere: part of the earth that moves during plate tectonic activity
2791 tediferous: bearing a torch to protect a nave from depredation
2792 teichopsia:visual blurring and colours associated with migraines (a highlight reel of a miraculous game or battle in a major war)
2793teinoscope:a device that can predict the future by bending light or a gammon by pavonine gammerstangs to inculcate depravity among young impressionable gamines and gamins
2794telarian: a creature that spins a web or a machine that uses the world wide web to discover how to make itself a spider
2795 telegnosis:telaesthesia
2796 telematics:transmission of computerized data over long distances
2797teleonomy:characteristic of being governed by an overall purpose
2798tenebrific: producing darkness as in childhood indoctrination into evil sadistic beliefs of phobanthropy or diablerism
2799 tenendum: clause in a deed defining land tenure
2800 tenderometer: a fake device used by earwigs of chantage to misquantulate the capacity of any frethorned human being to be cadged into wanton lewdness demarcated by the conditions of primposition
2801 tephra: ash and debris ejected by volcano or the dumb things said in an anteric argument between paramours
2802teratogenic:producing monsters or abnormal growth by providing performance enhancing drugs
2803 terotechnology: use of various skills to extend the life of equipment or the perdurability of commercial products to withstand planned obsolescence
2804terramara:kind of earthly fertilizer designed to mutilate with brawndo rather than provide water (an alien gambit to pollute the Earth’s water supply to shorten life expectancy, reduce ***** count or a preventative measure to prevent the Scarecrow from Batman Begins)
2805terrella:magnetic model of the Earth
2806 terrisonant:having a terrible sound
2807 terry: piled fabric consisting of uncut loops (extremely repetitive electronic music especially if it is cheesy)
2808 tessellate: to form with mosaic
2809testudo: wheeled shelter used for protection from all above attacks (a mobile fortress designed to protect VIPs/ Air Force One)
2810tetramerous:having four parts
2811 Teutomania: obsession with German things, words or ideologies
2812 thalassiarchy:sovereignty of the seas or control of the world’s moral compass
2813 thalassography: science of the proper ecclesiastical balance between eumoireity and eudaemonism
2814 thalerophagous: feeding on fresh vegetable matter (xenucography)
2815 thalweg: middle of navigable waterway used as boundary line
2816 thanatognomonic: indicating or characteristic of death or the purpresture of the fears of death by nihilists who prepossess themselves over Alzheimer’s research
2817theatromania: obessions with *******, Rabelaisian humor, or a craze for going to operas or plays
2818 theocentrism: belief that God is central fact of existence
2819 theodolite: surveying instrument for measuring angles the docimasy of illuminated freemasons to discover true ranks in freemasonry
2820 theophilanthropism: love of both God and humanity
2821 theophile: one who loves or is loved by God
2822theotechny: use of the gods as a primary impetus behind movie scripts, plays, songs and stretchgraves of tempcoverage because it glorifies the kingdom of heaven on Earth and Heaven above with the parallax of wonder
2823therblig: unit of work for quantifying industrial operations by efficiency measures complicated in streamlined geotechnic study
2824thermantidote: apparatus for cooling air or calming regions of walming urbacity into docile peace
2825 thermophilous: preferring to be around hot women rather than ugly ones
2826 thersitical: scurrilous violent in manner of speech
2827 thewe: pillory for women
2828 thigmotaxis: movement of plant towards or away (the skittish actions by sketchy drug dealers who realize they are in a purlieu that is too radically monitored by traffic and in their paranoia they steer away to a remoter location to conduct affairs especially when done with high felony amounts of a hard drug)
2829thixotropy: temporary reduction in viscidity when shaken or stirred (lacking confidence and zeal in the face of intimidating spies)
2830 thnetopsychism: belief that the soul dies with the body only to be reborn on the day of judgment
2831thoughtography: supposed technique for transferring mental images onto photographs or movies
2832 thrasonical: boastful or bragging about the fortunes of a family because of williwaws of personal repute (bragging about your *** life)
2834 thremmatology: science of breeding domestic animals and plants (the science of genetic engineering people of different races with compatible genes or inserting in vitro ***** with the best chance of thriving)
2833throttlebottom: harmless incompetent holding public office deliberately because he is a wagtail pickthank faineant that serves a role to switch the seat of house to a different party
2835tocodynamometer: instrument for measuring uterine contractions during childbirth
2836 titubate: to stagger or stumble
2837toft: a small hill (an obstacle that is minor to the broader objectives of a military unit trying to sack a major important camp or refuge for bastions of armigerous security)
2838tolerationism: doctrine of toleration of religious differences
2839 tolypeutine: of, like or pertaining to armadillos (of or relating to the process of extended hibernation whether in theory or in fact)
2840 tombola: lottery in which each entrant must win a prize (the geopolitics of professional sports to reward underserved urbacities with championship opportunities)
2841 tomophobia/mania: irrational propensity for performing surgery
2842tootle:nonsensical writing or speech about feminist gammerstang topics that is often reiterative and cliched
2843topgallant: second in command in a country with a constitutional monarchy among the porphyrogenitic class
2844 toponomastic: of, like or pertaining to place names
2845 torchier:floor lamp with bowl for reflecting light upwards (A UFO)
2846 tornote: having blunt extremities (people with unseemly quoniam or other pelvic features)
2847 torpid: numb;lethargic; having lost the power to act
2848torpillage:electric shock therapy (the intensive process of destroying someone’s brain even when elite that relies on deliberately making an incision in the prefrontal cortex to ensure that they have zero personality whatsoever and cannot think)
2849torporific: causing numbness or dullness
2850totidem verbis: in so many words
2851tourbillon: swirl; vortex, whirlwind (a complex vicissitude that entangles many elements of the underworld in either unity or balkanization that creates a crime spree either internecine or wagered against an effete enemy)
2852tournure: a contour characteristic of a turn of line grace or poise because of exterior enrichments of circumstance
2853tow: to smoke **** too habitually to learn anything especially if attempting to be a poetaster or epigone
2854 toxophily: love of archery or spies
2855 trachynphonia: roughness of voice; gruff
2856 tragelaph: mythical crossbreed of a goat and stage (an athlete that is talented at both acting and sports)
2857 tragomaschalia:smelly armpits an old spice fanatic (characteristic of a bodybuilder whose arrogance derives from petty achievements in the weightroom if not also acclaim from professional contests)
2858 traulism: stammering in depaysed anxiety especially in front of a corporate board or in front of the police or a judge
2859 transpontine: from the other side of the river: melodramatic because of an anteric argument always done deliberately to make a relationship more exciting between men and women
2860 trave: crossbeam or space between crossbeams ( a space of time or dimension of spaced warped by antigravity technology that is so advanced it remains a cryptadia
2861 tresayle: great-great grandfather (a stupid remark about your family lineage that endangers the security of your family legacy/ a parody of self-importance)
2862 triboluminescence: emission of light caused by friction
2863 tribuloid: yielding prickly fruit (questions that raise discrimination rather than egalitarianism in the subsultus of the superstructure of the substratose civilizations we live in that understates environment and overstates cognitive nativism)
2864 trichosis: arrangement, distribution or disorder of hair (characteristic of an inoperable robot fashioned today or in the future which fails in many respects to operate with bionomic continuity with the ecosystem they are placed within)
2865 trichotomy: division or arrangement into three distinct parts (a movie trilogy widely celebrated)
2866 tricotee: lively old dance or dancing to old pop music that is already outmoded by newer popular music
2867 trifarious: facing three ways (multiple polypsychic virtualisis with more than two people simultaneously inhabiting the same consciousness
2868 triforium: a gallery or arcade over an aisle; a gallery over a nave and a choir that displays images of transmogrified supervolation of superlative gooods
2869 trigamy: being married to three spouses with no husbands
2870 triphibious: taking place on land, water and in air descriptive of the navy seals or the us marine corps in a symbolic way
2871 triplopia: triple vision
2872 tritanopia: inability to find merit in democratic ideals because of an imperseverant belief in republican values by agitprop and flipcreeks of commerstargal
2873. racemation: cluster or bundle of grapes or any other thing
2874. rachidian: of or concerning the spine
2875. rachitogenic: something causing rickets or rickety things
2876 radappertization: treatment of food with ionized radiation to **** bacteria
2877radiesthesia: sensitivity to radiation from any source
2879 radiogenic: produced by radioactive disintegration
2880 radular: coarse scraping and raspy (as in music)
2881 raglan: having sleeves going all the way to the neck (the act of connecting someone to the Matrix)
2882 rappel: calling to arms by the beating of the drum
2883 raptorial: predacious; of, like or pertaining to a bird of prety
2884 raster: pattern of parallel lines on grid used in certain scanners
2885ratheripe: early ripe person who is coerced into villainy by evil purlieus or even more evil parents especially when they encourage vile and debased ****** activity
2886
recherche: carefully chosen, rare or exotic (especially characteristic of a location, movie or song that is widely overlooked)
2887. ratite-of or pertaining to flightless birds
2888.* rebarbative: repellent, repulsive
2889 rebullition: act of boiling up or effervescing
2890 recaption: reprisal; taking back that which is unlawfully obtained
2891. recipiangle: old instrument with two arms for measuring angles (a masonic elaborative test that guages the proper degree in freemasonry)
2892. recit: narrative tale often told to little children to teach them the kerygma in a secular story
2893 reckling: smallest or weakest of a litter (the most inferior people in a given race or country)
2894 reclame: art or practice by which publicity or notoriety is secured
2895 rectitudinous: manifesting overly obvious moral correctness
2896 rectrix: quill feathers of a bird’s tale (small details about aliens that are extremely rare and rarely spread only among elite families)
2897. recure: to bring people back to health
2898 reddendum: reserving clause in a lease
2899. rede: to counsel or advice
2900. tripudiate: to dance for joy; to exult to stamp or stampede
2901 triquetra: a triangle-shaped object or UFO
2902 trismus: lockjaw a hard word to pronounce or a savage beating in prison
2903 trogoldytine: like or pertaining to wrens or cave-dwelling animals or aliens
2904 troilism: ****** activity (Heterosexual) between three persons one man and two women
2905 tromometer: instrument for measuring slight earthquake shocks or the reaction of stock markets to infomania
2906 trophotropism: direction of growth by nutritional factors
2907 tropism: the tendency to react to innuendos or insults in a specific manner
2908 tubifacient: constructing a tubes (of or relating to videos where imposture is delicately preened in order to heighten dramaturgy in the quest for YouTube stardom. Characteristic of the pranks and stunts of people that want to become internet fads or celebrities)
2909 tuant: of writing keen or trenchant (someone who absolutely nails it out of the park with rhetoric because he speaks rapidly with a memorable cadence and strong rhetorical contortions that use residual techniques to emphasize a parallelism in expressing a barnstorm)
2910 trutinate: to weigh using a balance to evaluate mentally especially in the process of figuring a person’s neurotypes and signature beliefs
2911 tufthunter: a sycophant or toady that is wretcheen (someone who is extremely guarded of their daughters in childhood and adolescence about their mobility to date men because they are extremely persnickety and scared of their girls becoming *****)
2912 turbinate: shaped like a top or inverted cone (an extremely taxing mathematical proof that often requires the counsel of the sithcundman professor at any given university even an elite one/ to perform an absurdly hard arithmetic problem in your head without relying on a calculator or memory alone)
2913 turtleback: structure over ship’s bow or stern or the part of the ship that sinks dumb people for low cadasters of moral repute and dismal IQ scores (a device used by Nielsen to figure out how to socially engineer the people of cisvestism into collective political solidarity around oppositively supported gambits of a freewheeling republic)
2914 twire: to peep; to leer (to corrupt an economy by introducing a staggering amount of  debt or inflation that often results in productive revolutions)
2915 twyer: a nozzle for a blast of air especially in a 4DX theater
2917tympany: swelling with pregnancy especially when harboring an idea that is obvious to everyone else but you have the best business angle so you wait patiently for the most opportune moment to pitch it
2916macarize: to be beatific or blessed (to be celebrated as an artifact of the kerygma especially in the modern day/ to herald a preacher or a bishop as a sacerdotal hero for his marksmanship of morality)
2918 macaronic: muddled or mixed up (someone who is out of place at a mafia assembly because he is tricked into attending)
2919 macerator: person who fasts and becomes emaciated
2920 machairodont:sabre-toothed as in a tiger or tigerism of Bruce Almighty
2921 machinule:tool by surveyors to obtain a right angle (boodle paid to become the highest degree of illuminati or freemasonry)
2922 mackintosh: lightweight or rubberized waterproof cotton (a perdurable institution of bedrock importance to the formative duress of any person’s life that situates them with the best available resources for success and retaining the dignotions of elitism micromanaged by powerful central figures in government for sleek psyops)
2923 macrocephalic: having an abnormally large head
2924 macrography: viewing an object with the naked eye
2925 macrocosm: a large object considered holistically
2926 macromania: delusion that objects are larger than the natural size (a belief that your hallucinations make you holier than me because you encounter divine beings)
2927 macropicide: killing of kangaroos (or convicts sent to penal colonies in the past in Russia or in the modern united states especially if they are agile and elite)
2928 macropodine: of, like or pertaining to kangaroos
2929 macropterous: having large wings or fins (as in the miraculous butterfly that ambushed me at 3385)
2930 mactation: killing or slaughter of a sacrificial victim belonging to a claque of enmity that is dethroned without carnificine bloodshed
2931 madefy: to make women wet by becoming humorous in dark times needing comic relief
2932 maenadic: furious in bacchanalian revelry because of a flinker
2933 maggotorium: a place where low-ranking freemasons are bred to sell clergymen fake ideas about the future in protervity and dishonesty
2934magistride: the killing of one’s teacher especially if it involves dippoldism
2935 magnality: a wonderful or great thing that once seemed bleak or frustraneous that becomes a magnet for trendsetters on the vanguard to adopt or consume
2936 mahout: one who rides or drives elephants (ideopraxists who inspire people to turn Republican by their hortatory voice of ideation)
2937 maillot: tights worn by a ballet dancer (extremely ***** women that risk their lives to have *** with endangered redstralls because of political motivation for protervity)
2938 mainpernor: one who assures that prisoners appear at their trials or a person in the criminal underworld who ensures that all of the available funds for a transaction are counted for before the triage is dealt
2939 malabathrum: dried leaf used in ancient times to make perfumed ointments (the mummification of the dead using advanced alien technology/ hair gel)
2940 malaxage: softening of clay by kneading it to console old women by using psychotaxis and toonardical deception to remind them of their heydays in life
2941 malgre: in spite of decadent circumstances remaining morally grounded
2942 maltster: one who makes or deals in malt (women in the Victorian era that performed ******* despite the taboo)
2943 malversation: corruption in office; corrupt administration or misconduct
2944 mammock: a broken phone created by subsultus in abreaction
2945 mangonel: ancient egyptian military artifact that belongs in the cryptadia that assisted pyramid building or early motatory mobilism
2946 mantissa: decimal part of a logarithm (the exact prediction of the world’s population and GDP in the distant past to increasing measures of exactitude)
2947
manumission: emancipation freedom from slavery
2948marcottage: propagation of trees by stripping rings of bark and covering them with moss (installing an advanced brain chip that can only be performed by opening the skull)
2949 maritodespotism: ruthless ******* by a husband because of high stature and intimidation especially when the women is philandering or the ruthless ******* of a pismirist company over an entire landscape of commodities fearing succedaneum might be cheaper by introducing planned obsolescence
2950 marivaudage: precocity in literary style or expression ( a comedic attempt to bowdlerize true romance by inserting pernicious elements of dacoitage in mythopoeic hatred to try and convince people using flowery epithets that a person is too alienavesced to bond)
2951 marry: an expression of surprised agreement between political rivals that convene usually in a deloped scuffle that usually leads to a trustworthy bipartisan partnership especially if the vaunted politicians are from different nations
2952*martinet: a strict disciplinarian; one who adheres to rules
2953martingale: strap between horse’s forelegs to keep its head down (a maneuver by Colorado to keep everyone in the dark about estoppage because of corporate motivation)
2954 martryology: the study of martyrs especially political ones that risk their own safety to promote God rather than peace
2955 mascaron: a grotesque face on a door knocker (a lie by an elite band to cadge people into lewd dominions of chantage and sloganeering a widely held flargentum travesty)
2956 mascon: concentration of a dense mass beneath the moons surface (a tightly agglomerated race of humans in synoecy with aliens that are very smart and sympatric in their fidelity to human society especially when the aliens are incorrugable in their demands of Earth)
2957 masterate: degree or title of only the true master masons above 33rd degree or the highest ranking of the illuminati
2958 matachin: a sword dance by gypsies to intimidate people about voodoo because they know about squash courts and fencing and the ESP of the cryptadia (a rogue agent that betrays his home country by finding a paramour from another country that he cares more about than his patriotic valor)
2959materteral: of or resembling an aunt
2960 mathematicism: the belief that everything is expressible in mathematical terms and that every human and alien problem with eventually be solved by advanced technology and deliberate larithmics
2961 mariherital: of, like, or pertaining to inheritance along the female line
2962. matelasse: having a quilted ornamentation a fabric with a raised pattern as if quilted (a sheet of LSD)
2963 matutinal: happening early in the morning (a seductive ogle by an attractive man trying to court a hot girl to bed by using candelit vigils as an excuse especially when religious and pytherian)
2964 maugre: in spite of; notwithstanding
2965 maximalism: uncompromising adherence to extreme demands especially when they resort to underminnows of sabotage to winnow evil people from the earth’s population by chantage
2966 mazzebah: ancient Jewish sacred stone pillar (the arc of the covenant)
2967 mazopathia: any disease of the placenta caused by being to illuminated to have children
2968 mazut: petroleum residue after distillation (the people that survive an internecine situation of civil strife between rival factions in a seedy country plagued by poverty or in any other civil disturbance involving combatants from rich nations)
2969 mechanomorphic: having the form of a machine (lacking much of a persona that makes you look dull and insipid especially in the corporate world where you seem hackneyed and toady)
2970 mechanolatry: worship of machines (a strong priority by a large corporation to streamline all operations even at the cost of accosted labor frenzies of dearth)
2971 meconology: study of or treatise concerning ***** or shanghaied people in San Francisco abducted by the Chinese to aid the figurative Last Samurai
2972 meditabund: absorbed in meditation/tigrism
2973megacerine: extinct giant deer or a stone-aged lie that tried to coerce the clergy into hemophiliac distortions of taste
2974 megameter: instrument for determining the best place for an elite celebrity to live by observing the stars constellated in that community and their effects at hallswallop
2975megistotherm: plant or industry requiring very high temperatures to coerce into serfdom or panic
2976mehari: camel used for racing (a ploy by toxicity to own a systematic downfall of provincial econometrics of genesiology depaysed an excuse or invitation for a rhipidate love (a carefully guarded ploy to introduce carcinogens among susceptible minority populations)
2977 mekometer: range-finder (someone who patrols a guarded regional ballaster of mainlined economic instruments or armigerous cyanotypes or arms that always remains vigilant from the purpresture of those that attempt to infiltrate the region or building/ a collective troop of security guards guarding a less obvious bulwark of regional and national importance)
2978 meldometer: instrument for measuring melting points of substances (testing how thermolabile elite mafiosos are by thrusting them into precarious peril)
2979 meleagrine: of, like or pertaining to turkeys or explicit *******
2980 *meliorism: the belief the world tends to become better
2981 melodikon: keyboard instrument (element of a time machine) that brings tuning forks in contact with a rotating to cone to deliberately chose the point of junction with the future reaching the past by pretended serendipity
2982 melopepon: any of various kinds of squash (especially the best soundracketeers)
2983 mensuration: measuring to find the dimensions of things (pataphysical examinations of time travel by mathematicism and speculative knowledge that is accursed because it is so farsighted)
2984 menticide: reduction of the mind by psychological pressure (the capacity of the mediagenic hyperbole to brainwash suscepts of surquedry a unique synsematic idiosyncrasy in definition)
2985 mercedary: pertaining to the giving or reception of wages (the fair allotment of wages not by pismirists but by people that follow through on their promises especially done in negotiosity where an excellent outcome rewards more than a mediocre one out of incentive)
2986 meromorphic: fractional office space corporate engineering
2987mesalliance: unsuitable marriage because of whiskerandas and whiskerandos or divided political motivations
2988mesochroic: having skin colour intermediate between light and dark (a political independent that belongs to a racial minority in any country)
2989 mesozeugma: a placement of a word to contradict a counterphobic innuendo so that people don’t misinterpet anything
2990 messianism: belief in a single messiah or saviour
2991 metachronism: the error of dating an event too late
2992 metallogenic: metal occuring as an ore as opposed to in rocks (the radiohoo of rap music even when less melismatic becoming more secretive than euphoric gourdinance in rock music or house)
2993metaplasm: alteration in spelling of a word by adding, removing or transposing letters the survival of political earwigs who expose deep secrets by pandering to the ruling party
2994 metapolitics: study of politics in theory or abstract (believing the cloveryield of exuberant and absurd political beliefs might be optimized with drastic draconian reforms in free autarky believing that  the world will eventually submit to communism)
2995 metastrophe: mutual exchange of information Minus of the Bear style
2996 metayage: system of agricultural labour with share of produce as wages
I.

« Oh ! disaient les peuples du monde,
Les derniers temps sont-ils venus ?
Nos pas, dans une nuit profonde,
Suivent des chemins inconnus.
Où va-t-on ? dans la nuit perfide,
Quel est ce fanal qui nous guide,
Tous courbés sous un bras de fer ?
Est-il propice ? est-il funeste ?
Est-ce la colonne céleste ?
Est-ce une flamme de l'enfer ?

« Les tribus des chefs se divisent ;
Les troupeaux chassent les pasteurs ;
Et les sceptres des rois se brisent
Devant les faisceaux des préteurs.
Les trônes tombent ; l'auteur croule ;
Les factions naissent en foule
Sur les bords des deux Océans ;
Et les ambitions serviles,
Qui dormaient comme des reptiles,
Se lèvent comme des géants.

« Ah ! malheur ! nous avons fait gloire,
Hélas ! d'attentats inouïs,
Tels qu'en cherche en vain la mémoire
Dans les siècles évanouis.
Malheur ! tous nos forfaits l'appellent,
Tous les signes nous le révèlent,
Le jour des arrêts solennels.
L'homme est digne enfin des abîmes ;
Et rien ne manque à ses longs crimes
Que les châtiments éternels. »

Le Très-Haut a pris leur défense,
Lorsqu'ils craignaient son abandon ;
L'homme peut épuiser l'offense,
Dieu n'épuise pas le pardon.
Il mène au repentir l'impie ;
Lui-même, pour nous, il expie
L'oubli des lois qu'il nous donna ;
Pour lui seul il reste sévère ;
C'est la victime du Calvaire
Qui fléchit le Dieu du Sina !

II.

Par un autre berceau sa main nous sauve encore.
Le monde du bonheur n'ose entrevoir l'aurore,
Quoique Dieu des méchants ait puni les défis,
Et, troublant leurs conseils, dispersant leurs phalanges,
Nous ait donné l'un de ses anges,
Comme aux antiques jours il nous donna son Fils.

Tel, lorsqu'il sort vivant du gouffre de ténèbres,
Le prophète voit fuir les visions funèbres ;
La terre est sous ses pas, le jour luit à ses yeux ;
Mais lui, tout ébloui de la flamme éternelle,
Longtemps à sa vue infidèle
La lueur de l'enfer voile l'éclat des cieux.

Peuples, ne doutez pas ! chantez votre victoire.
Un sauveur naît, vêtu de puissance et de gloire ;
Il réunit le glaive et le sceptre en faisceau ;
Des leçons du malheur naîtront nos jours prospères,
Car de soixante rois, ses pères,
Les ombres sans cercueils veillent sur son berceau.

Son nom seul a calmé nos tempêtes civiles ;
Ainsi qu'un bouclier il a ouvert les villes ;
La révolte et la haine ont déserté nos murs.
Tel du jeune lion, qui lui-même s'ignore,
Le premier cri, paisible encore,
Fait de l'antre royal fuir cent monstres impurs.

III.

Quel est cet enfant débile
Qu'on porte aux sacrés parvis ?
Toute une foule immobile
Le suit de ses yeux ravis ;
Son front est nu, ses mains tremblent,
Ses pieds, que des nœuds rassemblent,
N'ont point commencé de pas ;
La faiblesse encore l'enchaîne ;
Son regard ne voit qu'à peine
Et sa voix ne parle pas.

C'est un roi parmi les hommes ;
En entrant dans le saint lieu,
Il devient ce que nous sommes : -
C'est un homme aux pieds de Dieu.
Cet enfant est notre joie ;
Dieu pour sauveur nous l'envoie ;
Sa loi l'abaisse aujourd'hui.
Les rois, qu'arme son tonnerre,
Sont tout par lui sur la terre,
Et ne sont rien devant lui !

Que tout tremble et s'humilie.
L'orgueil mortel parle en vain ;
Le lion royal se plie
Au joug de l'agneau divin.
Le Père, entouré d'étoiles,
Vers l'Enfant, faible et sans voiles,
Descend, sur les vents porté ;
L'Esprit-Saint de feux l'inonde ;
Il n'est encor né qu'au monde,
Qu'il naisse à l'éternité !

Maire, aux rayons modeste,
Heureuse et priant toujours,
Guide les vierges célestes
Vers son vieux temple aux deux tours,
Toutes les saintes armées,
Parmi les soleils semées,
Suivent son char triomphant ;
La Charité les devance,
La Foi brille, et l'Espérance
S'assied près de l'humble Enfant !

IV.

Jourdain ! te souvient-il de ce qu'ont vu tes rives ?
Naguère un pèlerin près de tes eaux captives
Vint s'asseoir et pleura, pareil en sa ferveur
À ces preux qui jadis, terrible et saint cortège,
Ravirent au joug sacrilège
Ton onde baptismale et le tombeau sauveur.

Ce chrétien avait pu, dans la France usurpée,
Trône, autel, chartes, lois, tomber sous une épée,
Les vertus sans honneur, les forfaits impunis ;
Et lui, des vieux croisés cherchait l'ombre sublime,
Et, s'exilant près de Solime,
Aux lieux ou Dieu mourut pleurait ses rois bannis.

L'eau du saint fleuve emplit sa gourde voyageuse ;
Il partit ; il revit notre rive orageuse,
Ignorant quel bonheur attendait son retour,
Et qu'à l'enfant des rois, du fond de l'Arabie,
Il apportait, nouveau Tobie,
Le remède divin qui rend l'aveugle au jour.

Qu'il soit fier dans ses flots, le fleuve des prophètes !
Peuples, l'eau du salut est présente à nos fêtes ;
Le ciel sur cet enfant a placé sa faveur ;
Qu'il reçoive les eaux que reçut Dieu lui-même ;
Et qu'à l'onde de son baptême,
Le monde rassuré reconnaisse un sauveur.

À vous, comme à Clovis, prince, Dieu se révèle.
Soyez du temple saint la colonne nouvelle.
Votre âme en vain du lys efface la blancheur ;
Quittez l'orgueil du rang, l'orgueil de l'innocence ;
Dieu vous offre, dans sa puissance,
La piscine du pauvre et la croix du pécheur.

V.

L'enfant, quand du Seigneur sur lui brille l'aurore,
Ignore le martyre et sourit à la croix ;
Mais un autre baptême, hélas ! attend encore
Le front infortuné des rois. -
Des jours viendront, jeune homme, où ton âme troublée,
Du fardeau d'un peuple accablée
Frémira d'un effroi pieux,
Quand l'évêque sur toi répandra l'huile austère,
Formidable présent qu'aux maîtres de la terre
La colombe apporta des cieux.

Alors, ô roi chrétien ! au Seigneur sois semblable ;
Sache être grand par toi, comme il est grand par lui ;
Car le sceptre devient un fardeau redoutable
Dès qu'on veut s'en faire un appui.
Un vrai roi sur sa tête unit toutes les gloires ;
Et si, dans ses justes victoires,
Par la mort il est arrêté,
Il voit, comme Bayard, une croix dans son glaive,
Et ne fait, quand le ciel à la terre l'enlève,
Que changer d'immortalité !

À LA MUSE.

Je vais, ô Muse ! où tu m'envoies ;
Je ne sais que verser des pleurs ;
Mais qu'il soit fidèle à leurs joies,
Ce luth fidèle à leurs douleurs !
Ma voix, dans leur récente histoire,
N'a point, sur des tons de victoire,
Appris à louer le Seigneur.
Ô roi, victimes couronnées !
Lorsqu'on chante vos destinées,
On sait mal chanter le bonheur.

Mai 1821.
Shannon Jeffery Jul 2014
Glass carapace invites in rays
Upon my face radiant warmth lays
Cracks form on my lips edge
Standing upon dreams ledge

Eyes draw slowly open
Adjust to the blooming entrant
Embrace the suns warm kiss
A vibrant new day not to miss

Clouds paint the shining sky
Birds sing and soar ever high
Grass soft between the toes
Massaging my feet in the wind as it flows

Enjoy every grasping moment
Achieve anything no matter the distant
Don't live in sorrow
For there maybe no tomorrow
On dit que je suis fort malade,
Ami ; j'ai déjà l'oeil terni ;
Je sens la sinistre accolade
Du squelette de l'infini.

Sitôt levé, je me recouche ;
Et je suis comme si j'avais
De la terre au fond de la bouche ;
Je trouve le souffle mauvais.

Comme une voile entrant au havre,
Je frissonne ; mes pas sont lents,
J'ai froid ; la forme du cadavre,
Morne, apparaît sous mes draps blancs.

Mes mains sont en vain réchauffées ;
Ma chair comme la neige fond ;
Je sens sur mon front des bouffées
De quelque chose de profond.

Est-ce le vent de l'ombre obscure ?
Ce vent qui sur Jésus passa !
Est-ce le grand Rien d'Épicure,
Ou le grand Tout de Spinosa ?

Les médecins s'en vont moroses ;
On parle bas autour de moi,
Et tout penche, et même les choses
Ont l'attitude de l'effroi.

Perdu ! voilà ce qu'on murmure.
Tout mon corps vacille, et je sens
Se déclouer la sombre armure
De ma raison et de mes sens.

Je vois l'immense instant suprême
Dans les ténèbres arriver.
L'astre pâle au fond du ciel blême
Dessine son vague lever.

L'heure réelle, ou décevante,
Dresse son front mystérieux.
Ne crois pas que je m'épouvante ;
J'ai toujours été curieux.

Mon âme se change en prunelle ;
Ma raison sonde Dieu voilé ;
Je tâte la porte éternelle,
Et j'essaie à la nuit ma clé.

C'est Dieu que le fossoyeur creuse ;
Mourir, c'est l'heure de savoir ;
Je dis à la mort : Vieille ouvreuse,
Je viens voir le spectacle noir.
Ikvaran kaur May 2020
Those midnight memories still haunts me today,
I still remember what we were that beautous day.

With silence spread all over the valley,
You came to my house without a dally.

I felt my heart beating out my chest,
But hugging you after entrant brought it to rest.

Everything was going so perfect just like a dream,
And you started to come really close with such a glee.

My mind got numb as i was scared from this all,
But you said you will always be mine after this all.

With kisses so right and fingers crossed tight,
I exposed you all that glooming night.

Your fingers running all over me exploring my waves,
I gave you my soul before you craved.

In between all we said i love you again and again,
And you said if i forgot you, you would regain.

All the promises you made told me that you'll stay,
But little did i know it was a ****** play!

I thought i was only girl who was supposed  to be your life,
But their was another girl whom you called her your wife.

You broke me all and vanished with a glare,
And i complained to god because that was not so fair.

Throwing your feelings on me you completed your sake of desire,
But what do i do with my feeling now that got so despair.

I screamed, i cried why you did this to me,
You said nothing and left all alone by me.

After such a long time you realised your mistake but we didn't patched up again,
Because you loved that girl and i hope so not if you do that again.
Ô grande nation, vous avez à cette heure,
Tandis qu'en bas dans l'ombre on souffre, on râle, on pleure,
Un empire qui fait sonner ses étriers,
Les éblouissements des panaches guerriers,
Une cour où pourrait trôner le roi de Thune,
Une Bourse où l'on peut faire en huit jours fortune,
Des rosières jetant aux soldats leurs bouquets
Vous avez des abbés, des juges, des laquais,
Dansant sur des sacs d'or une danse macabre,
La banque à deux genoux qui harangue le sabre,
Des boulets qu'on empile au fond des arsenaux,
Un sénat, les sermons remplaçant les journaux,
Des maréchaux dorés sur toutes les coutures,
Un Paris qu'on refait tout à neuf, des voitures
À huit chevaux, entrant dans le Louvre à grand bruit,
Des fêtes tout le jour, des bals toute la nuit,
Des lampions, des jeux, des spectacles ; en somme,
Tu t'es prostituée à ce misérable homme !

Tout ce que tu conquis est tombé de tes mains ;
On dit les vieux français comme les vieux romains,
Et leur nom fait songer leurs fils rouges de honte ;
Le monde aimait ta gloire et t'en demande compte,
Car il se réveillait au bruit de ton clairon.
Tu contemples d'un œil abruti ton Néron
Qu'entourent des Romieux déguisés en Sénèques ;
Tu te complais à voir brailler ce tas d'évêques
Qui, pendant que César se vautre en son harem,
Entonnent leur Salvum fac imperatorem.
(Au fait, faquin devait se trouver dans la phrase.)
Ton âme est comme un chien sous le pied qui l'écrase
Ton fier quatrevingt-neuf reçoit des coups de fouet
D'un gueux qu'hier encor l'Europe bafouait.
Tes propres souvenirs, folle, tu les lapides.
La Marseillaise est morte à tes lèvres stupides.
Ton Champ de Mars subit ces vainqueurs répugnants,
Ces Maupas, ces Fortouls, ces Bertrands, ces Magnans,
Tous ces tueurs portant le tricorne en équerre,
Et Korte, et Carrelet, et Canrobert Macaire.
Tu n'es plus rien ; c'est dit, c'est fait, c'est établi.
Tu ne sais même plus, dans ce lugubre oubli,
Quelle est la nation qui brisa la Bastille.
On te voit le dimanche aller à la Courtille,
Riant, sautant, buvant, sans un instinct moral,
Comme une drôlesse ivre au bras d'un caporal.
Des soufflets qu'il te donne on ne sait plus le nombre.
Et, tout en revenant sur ce boulevard sombre
Où le meurtre a rempli tant de noirs corbillards,
Où bourgeois et passants, femmes, enfants, vieillards,
Tombèrent effarés d'une attaque soudaine,
Tu chantes Turlurette et la Faridondaine !

C'est bien, descends encore et je m'en réjouis,
Car ceci nous promet des retours inouïs,
Car, France, c'est ta loi de ressaisir l'espace,
Car tu seras bien grande ayant été si basse !
L'avenir a besoin d'un gigantesque effort.
Va, traîne l'affreux char d'un satrape ivre-mort,
Toi qui de la victoire as conduit les quadriges.
J'applaudis. Te voilà condamnée aux prodiges.
Le monde, au jour marqué, te verra brusquement
Egaler la revanche à l'avilissement,
Ô Patrie, et sortir, changeant soudain de forme,
Par un immense éclat de cet opprobre énorme
Oui, nous verrons, ainsi va le progrès humain,
De ce vil aujourd'hui naître un fier lendemain,
Et tu rachèteras, ô prêtresse, ô guerrière,
Par cent pas en avant chaque pas en arrière !
Donc recule et descends ! tombe, ceci me plaît !
Flatte le pied du maître et le pied du valet !
Plus bas ! baise Troplong ! plus bas ! lèche Baroche
Descends, car le jour vient, descends, car l'heure approche,
Car tu vas t'élancer, ô grand peuple courbé,
Et, comme le jaguar dans un piège tombé,
Tu donnes pour mesure, en tes ardentes luttes,
À la hauteur des bonds la profondeur des chutes !

Oui, je me réjouis ; oui, j'ai la foi ; je sais
Qu'il faudra bien qu'enfin tu dises : c'est assez !
Tout passe à travers toi comme à travers le crible
Mais tu t'éveilleras bientôt, pâle et terrible,
Peuple, et tu deviendras superbe tout à coup.
De cet empire abject, bourbier, cloaque, égout,
Tu sortiras splendide, et ton aile profonde,
En secouant la fange, éblouira le monde !
Et les couronnes d'or fondront au front des rois,
Et le pape, arrachant sa tiare et sa croix,
Tremblant, se cachera comme un loup sous sa chaire,
Et la Thémis aux bras sanglants, cette bouchère,
S'enfuira vers la nuit, vieux monstre épouvanté,
Et tous les yeux humains s'empliront de clarté,
Et lors battra des mains de l'un à l'autre pôle,
Et tous les opprimés, redressant leur épaule,
Se sentiront vainqueurs, délivrés et vivants,
Rien qu'à te voir jeter ta honte aux quatre vents !

Jersey, du 4 au 6 septembre 1853.
Fable X, Livre II.


Naguère un ours encor sauvage,
Ours sans esprit et sans usage,
Mais non pas sans ambition,
Disait : « Je veux aller à la cour du lion.
Pour plaire en entrant là comment faut-il que j'entre ? »
Le singe dit, « C'est en sautant ; »
Le sansonnet, « C'est en chantant ; »
« Ou bien, dit le serpent, en marchant sur ton ventre. »
Neville Johnson May 2019
I like a good party, love those where everyone is in the business, mostly ​retirees now in "private security." Yeah right.
There is always a lot to discuss, hopefully, without rancor or discord as ​everyone gets lit, and there are tales of tails in Lagos, Istanbul and ​Bratislava.
Meet lovely Katia from Yugoslavia which doesn’t exist anymore
Just like our love affair when we worked on opposite sides but shared the ​same bed.
If it hadn’t been for Tito, she’d probably still be titillating me
I feel a chill, when I turn to see who enters the room,
The swarthy entrant likewise stiffens as we both reach for the weapon ​we aren’t carrying.
It’s Elmer, at least that's how I knew him, the gun-running second in ​command under Noriega, whom I had orders to **** and he had orders ​to do the same and we both tried our best to do so in those dark days ​before the pock-marked General got blasted out with help from ​Hendrix and The Doors --- but that's another story
"Hi Elmer," I grimace a hello.
He responds, "Buenos noches, Jose," and sits down next to me!
It’s been ten years since he'd last tried to ****** me at that shoot-out in ​the warehouse where he had to abandon the coke, $100 Million ​worth.
Thank God, it isn't like old times, or I would be dead.
Sitting there I have never felt more alive, adrenalin on high
Thank God, I don’t want to slay him anymore
Try making small talk with an ex-nemesis like him
You don't ask about the kids, where he lives, and where he stashed his ​loot.
We nod politely and discuss the mundane
He tells me he never like assassinations, and always thought I was a good ​guy, that I was lucky he wasn't much of a shot.
Jeez, this is a weird business
It was time for further socializing so we both move on
I keep my back to the wall for the rest of the party
And Katia by my side
Say, darling, what do you say we split this joint for a secret, special ​rendezvous?

— The End —