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Anthony Williams Jul 2014
Somehow your heart enzymes inveigled a way into my system
I surmise it was your energising tongue which smuggled them in
my pseudoanaphylactic longing to snuggle in vein against your protein
its aim a happy interaction tugged by frenzied polypeptide chains

when your petite triglycerides coil avidly around my pH changes
hydrolysis replenishes steroids to stop any pleasure level plunge
so that functional-group transfers may intervene at all active sites
supervising where coenzymes await love's coursing stem cell sights

that photosynthesise my eyes to sensitise to you despite the dark
dancing in all my living cells with infectious smiles an epidemic
when your DNA can't polymerase enough of the audacious lipids
pleasing as they kiss the density away of fatty acids on soft lips

that release protease inhibitors in ways not too selective
so our hearts find their metabolic pathway audaciously live
and offer themselves completely to a frolic in love reactive
by Anthony Williams
Enzymes are protein catalysts that, like all catalysts, speed up the rate of a chemical reaction without being used up in the process.
mijaeng Nov 2013
you're that biological catalyst that alters, speeds up (our) reactions.
with you, the fastened heartbeats, the holding of hands, the chaste kisses--
they all sped up.


with a snap, you've gotten me,
all feverish affections strong and thick.
you've got me, got me!


i am that substrate bound,
bound to your tantalizing active site.
what possessed me to persist staying there,
i'll never find out.


but i forgot, you're an enzyme,
and enzymes never change its form
when they've altered its substrate.


and silly as i was,
pitiful little substrate,
reduced to that of a broken form,
in just a snap, *snap!
science, biology, ex, sometimes i miss you but then i remember what you did so no
John Leuven Apr 2014
Sometimes I wake up to
spatial tension
and awkward sting,
where there are fractions of
unwanted proteins and
dripping enzymes.
Sometimes I wake up to
obsidian corpuscles
of unknown origin
and encounters with
sentiment-shakers,
dream-eaters,
and rafter-rattlers.
Sometimes it is as simple as
dripping beige,
intangible amber,
and cold, cold, blue.
Sometimes I wake up
to nothing, too.
Joseph S C Pope Feb 2013
I

Wonderlandia, torn off the submerged lung
of a daydream diary.                   Reoccurs
as she does with silver eyes, weary Alice
during tea time--bullets burning past her
                                     like flowing nations.
Everyday similar tsunamis fund
                                     the lack of 20/20.
Nose to tail--the surge of angry engines
splits the ends of her blonde strands.
    Each one the last witness to maddening hospitality
--utopia never sweats as it talks and withers.
Amnesia blots,
new aspirin machines
vaporize apples and ***
on the other end of spectrum,
                                                     trans-positional labels--

Guillotine gargling teapots
       have no patience
         to the bushes of Olympus opiates
                                      bound in yellow barrier tape,
                     five o' clock traffic
               welcomes her back to what we are facing.


II


Dreary weather of late fall                       and her beautiful,
              powdered face

great mouth of atomic hell,
         when she speaks--80,000 deficiencies boil alive
                                                   --Trinity's teething test
                                                           on the tired bones
                                                   of a story-teller's raspy cards--

"None the wiser," she speaks,
                                "during the transition of ships
                   vermin turn into krakens culturing
                               on the surface of a raindrop.
    Heroes, villains, animals frozen together
                 after now eating for four days.
     The transition of one genocide
                                                        ­  to the other,
                the delineation of cat-and-mouse,
   mingle too long
   with the dead
   and its necrophilia."

                 Blind Alice wanders off the highway,
leaves her brewed cup of steamy static
on top of the unimportant saucer, sticks pins in her *******,
             and enjoys the sound of Cleopatra
             rolling over in reincarnation.


III

      Dear Alice smells
sunbathing, studded tangerines
                      assimilating liquor within the vast,
       empty, glowing nausea that is--
                        the warm germ

Oil                                    and                 ­          water
               rippled glass too silly for skulls
              made humid by distant salt water,

blood, acid, enzymes,
cheating probability
that runners with drunk kids
have blood between their toes.
                                                      Death­ to the distillation within
                                                    --the chronic diamond too polished
                                                       in *** to see the roses in her *****
    She curses these wood songs,
             heritage patriots with the pelts of wild lions
             with antlers over their heads,
                                                  faces advertising war paint
                                                applied by gargoyle hands
                    --sad memoirs always drink people
                                                  that use God as a cookie jar.


IV


  Gorgeous names
  on graffiti institutions give her a home
                                                         a market
                                                         a nickname
           still                  Alice only accepts Alice.

Grace periods where she misses tyranny
                  rise and fall like endorsed breathing.
    Now Alice feels her dress fall off,
                                  extinct years message future occupancy
                                  about what to wear.
New era, this era, past eras plead guilty
in a      clinic museum
             of forcing demons
              down the medical
              throats
of first graders. Court adjourns at 9:01 PM, Saturday

             The populus can sleep now,
                          but not her.
                 No one gave her clothes
                 to cover up the drained monochrome.


V

Instead she celebrates her flesh,
                                        the broken glass,
   and quakes and leads off to expose
           others to its potential vital prosperity.

         Instead
                     headlines like bumper cars read
                     about the beheading of weeks,
                     failing rescue missions,
                     and debates on teenage tolerance.

Nicotine intoxication points Alice
to over-extended memories--wards of music
sequenced to point out the extinction of marble tigers.
                        Only 550 expected to understand
                         tethered to millions able to survive.

  Flood waters look at moral standards, a mean hurricane
                                   that collapses the death toll
     all patented 50 states
     have a dating service
     and huff paint as a way
                              to pray to art.
                                                      Double­-canvas faces
                                                      dyed in pixel     hope
                                                       that the media levees hold,
             but volunteer to herd sheep into poppy seed fields.
                                            She refuses to stay,
                    to watch the long night
                    of castration on men with mud-covered ankles.
                                      Television says eunuchs want
                                       to be prodigal's children,
                                       everyone wants to come back home
                                       to mom and dad, safe zones, away
                                       from themselves.
                                                     ­                 It says our ancestors want
                                                            ­          this for all of us. They worked
                                                          ­            so hard to tie up the hair
                                                            ­          out of Aphrodite's face.

                                     They treasure the silver eyes of Alice,
                                          but call them blue,
                                                  they issue her high cholesterol
                                          but pump sweet ****** into he stomach,
                                                  they tell her to put down the drill,
                                            so she can finish their orchestra--

her lightning
    is
     a
  string
     of
  souls



VI


     She decides to depart Sunday,
to discover the ordinary beginning,
                        painting WHY? on its delirium.
re-arrangeable viewers become
                      inserted sounds under percussion and piano.

       Caging various important charts
                                          undetermined
   ­                           as finished attention.
                                                      ­              Three movements in flux
open end the people                     vacuuming
                            craftsmanship blocks
                   from                                dogs and zen.

                                                 The
                                 suspended letter               is happening in 1951
   drenched in existential white                                            spacing
        ­                                                   the viewer
                        from integrated architecture.

Down
the
bell is a structure called
"the quarantined wheelchair."
                               Dead ignorance changes pattern
                               after six movements of the second hand.
Alice speaks, "To you all, know
                                       that this is an un-dramatic situation.
          Everyday windows with the same
           participants have girls drinking
                                                     orange juice, activate fluid,
                    both exist as objects
                    and caught propaganda."

                                                   ­                      Six tunnel
                                                          ­      audiences are watching
                                                        ­        drown in the plastic silk
   her                                                       built by the motorized collage
                                                         ­                                        spider.

          Alice, a kinetic mannequin pop star
                        is limp in the glass point.
             Rhythmic flux is objectified war torture
                         censored in fitness magazines
by simple toilet literature.

                                        Six tunnels worth of eyes
                                 latch to the *******
                                           as a way to bury **** protesting.
                                  A coat of pepper spray
                                   works in front of the exhibition.
This stage is shaded by moans.


VII


      Alice the female, has a door-to-door friend
                                                          ­    over the sea
of the cathedral's ceiling               who died of disemboweled
pulchritude             at the mutilated nuclear other-place.
                     Her friend was a synthesized example
                     of staged catastrophes. Her friend is her, silver-eyed
                                                     ­                                             Alice.

            ­                     She performs herself and herself
                                 but they are played by polished, scored poets.

Everyone of them incorporates the events
                                 of a dancing gunshot. Everything rests
                                                           ­ at an intermission

               but after fifty minutes of pondering,
          the lost audience remembers
         her name is Alice.
                   So it comes back on with a shower of sweat
                  and this clear
                                  substance
               ­                                 called
                         ­                              patience.
       This composing, peering vulnerability
                        psychologically destroys the flux tension
              like analog genocidal dictators.
                                   Ultimately this is dream liquor

     commentating war to the war tree
      using trauma and chairs as humor.



VIII


               Patience on the water level lives translucent
                                            on networks that brand flesh
                                            with displaced identity.
Alice convinces us all that pickled ***
                                                             ­               takes eight years
                     to ****** and we accuse it
                                         of being fake. Afterwards, her character dies
in confident silence.


IX


     Not majestic, but she does cough
                  to mock the earth.
        The seeds of Alice are ripe,
                        harvested early, and now her children come out and dine
        like speaking tongues on gibberish.
                          The room is fat with hair

and kindness. Feeble, mundane hands chew on each other,
                                                         feet stand proud.
We even call her Alice or "the beautiful *******,
                                             a black cloud feasting
                                             in orange."
                       Everyone feasts on the nectar
                                                         she has, but never the rye
which makes her round. Juice is squeaking and her children laugh
                         as in competition.

     It's a distinguishable game as the mixed
                                                           ­      couple up front
              begin to play whistles as
                                         everyone eats
                   the pride of the silver-eyed Alice's children.


X

                                                ­ The children's souls
                                                       bow and say
                                           "Thank you for barely growing."
                                                   and dissipate after five minutes.

          "Curiouser                                   ­                                      and
           Curiouser"                                                       ­                   they
           say                                                              ­                        as
           they                                                             ­                       leave
           this                                                             ­                         homage.
                  The decimal backbone
                     of each of sweet Alice's
                                   blonde strands
                   divorced by the gust/ of a green light's/ allowance.


XI Epilogue*


  The day crawls away
                   a vigilant pest
     of the nocturnal project
                   --suns beam down still, like
                  stomachs of grinning felines
                           at Valentine's day.

toxic-dyed fingers
                        soldered
to bodies pittering across rainy streets

--legionnaires with hearts on stones
                         we are waiting for her orders,

     thistled-teeth clench,
                                         but did she
                                          actually
          ­                                ever come?
Karijinbba Apr 2020
Not a poem,;

A Repost:
Stay healthy beloved readers. I send you all my healing love:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Use apple cider vinegar or any vinagar asap even if you feel no tickle add sea salt gargle gargle gargle every hour if possible before and after eating! Or blend garlic and add vinagar gargle it!
men please do it! Go bathroom kitchen sink and look up at the ceilling open mouth wide gargle deep it shall burn a bit spit it out  do it sgain many times until it hurts no more.
Acid gets virus hiding in throat to come out and avoid getting the bicho nano bug into your lungs!?

A healthy immune system begins in the gut with a healthy balance of beneficial bacteria.

For far too many Americans, Candida overgrowth compromises the immune system, as it is constantly fighting the battle to keep Candida in control
If you do become ill, DO NOT feed the virus or the Candida with sugar. Yes, you need to drink a lot of fluids, but don’t drink sodas and sugary juices at this time. Cranberry unsweetened read lable cocktail has sugar get unsweetened one or grandberries fresh into blender or lemonade with stevia is a good choice. Try it warm or cold.

Gargle. Gargle. Gargle. Gargling lowers the viral load, leaving your throat body with fewer invaders to replicate.

So sip on this Mother Earth Organic Root Cider warm. Cold’s and flu often start in the throat or the nasal cavities.
At the first sign of a sore throat or sinus infection, sip on the root cider! If you don’t have it, use apple cider vinegar
Also flush your nose deep each side lean over sink to right and left sides flush nose for God's sakes alternate sea salt baking soda or use vinagar to nose too!? Rubb garlic on your nails eye bows.

Also, remember that a fever is one of nature’s means to fight infection.
Of course, you don’t want it to get too high (higher than 102) and drink plenty of fluids to prevent dehydration.
Filtered apple juice has boron brings down fever fast 4 to 6 onz every hour or if too sweet delute it half water half juice!
Vitamin A, vitamin D, vitamin E, and vitamin C are all vital nutrients for the immune system.
If you have any lip mouth sores you need to ballance minerals too much vitamin requires minerals fulvic humic

If you take high doses of vitamin C to fight a virus, remember that you should not abruptly stop taking vitamin C.
You should titrate down.
Vitamin C is needed by the immune system to make interferon, which the immune system produces to protect healthy cells from viral invasion.!!!

Zinc has been proven to be effective against the common cold and to be effective as a topical treatment for ****** sores.
ZINC It is believed to be effective due to preventing replication of the virus.
The immune system needs selenium to work properly and to build up the white blood cell count.
Berberine is an alkaloid compound found in several different plants, including European barberry, goldenseal, goldthread, Oregon grape, Phellodendron, and Coptis chinensis.

It has antibacterial, anti-inflammatory, antiviral, anti-parasitic, and immune-enhancing properties.
It’s been proven effective against a vast array of bacteria, protozoa, and fungi.
It can be used topically on cuts and other wounds, and it’s perhaps most commonly used to treat gastrointestinal issues.
Probiotics are always helpful in maintaining gut health, especially when the body is under a viral attack that involves the digestive system.
Probiotic foods and drinks without added sugar can help maintain a healthy balance of bacteria.

Garlic is anti-viral, anti-fungal, and antibacterial.
You can take garlic in a tonic or if you can handle it, chew raw garlic.
It not only will help fight the virus, it will help **** any secondary infections trying to take root.

Echinacea not only supports the immune system, it also has been proven to reduce the severity and duration of viral infections.

Colloidal silver is believed to interfere with the enzymes that allow viruses (bacteria and fungi as well) to utilize oxygen
A double-blind trail showed elderberry extract’s ability to reduce symptoms of influenza and speed recovery.

It also showed elderberry’s ability to enhance immune response with higher levels of antibodies in the blood.
It is believed to inhibit a virus’s ability to penetrate healthy cells and protect cells with powerful antioxidant S. Elderberry has also been shown to inhibit replication in four strains of ****** viruses and reduce infectivity of *** strains.

The flavonoids in green tea are believed to fight viral infections by preventing the virus from entering host cells and by inhibiting replication.

Though double-blind clinical trials are needed, olive leaf extract has been shown to inhibit replication of viruses. In one study, 115 of 119 patients had a full and rapid recovery from respiratory tract infections while 120 of 172 had a full and rapid recovery from viral skin infections such as ******.

Pau d’arco has been used in indigenous medicine for generations. One of its compounds, lapachol, has proven effective against various viruses, including influenza, ****** simplex types I and II and poliovirus. It is believed to inhibit replication.

Studies have shown that glycyrrhizin, a compound found in licorice root was more effective in fighting samples of coronavirus from SARS patients than four antiviral drugs. It reduces viral replication, cell absorption, and the virus’s ability to penetrate cells. It is also being used to treat ***.

St. John’s Wort has been proven effective against influenza, ****** simplex, and ***.

If you’re prone to viral infections or are dealing with a chronic infection like ***, as mentioned above, the first step is to get your gut in shape. This is absolutely imperative. The best article to do that with is Best Supplements To **** Candida and Everything Else You Ever Wanted To Know About Fungal Infections & Gut Health. Everyone who is chronically ill has an abundance of Candida. Yes, everyone.

Provided your gut is healthy, or if you just feel the need to skip that part, here are the supplements to take in order to make sure your immune system is able to fight off viruses:

While there are most supplements listed above, the combination of these listed here is more than enough to balance out the body and ward off viral infection.
~~~~~~~
A Repost By Karijinbba.
love kindnes helping one another
call neighbors help or ask for help...ask.
savanna lai Nov 2013
the dark crashes onto me like the bang of the drum

suddenly it's only you

i'm so sick of life

sick of living for you

except

i can't

but sometimes i wonder how it'd feel

to burn up in the sun and live my life as a shriveled up piece of skin

to float through space

see the stars and all the life

i could witness a million things

and lose you

but i wanna see the stars

but you refuse to tag along

plus nobody likes a backseat driver

which i know you'd be

and i feel like i'd love it once in a while

just look at you for a second instead of a brand new galaxies

i could taste all the elements

i could sit on a beach as it rains glass

and i don't need you and your stench

or your pretty green eyes

in a way you're a whole new world, too

all bottled up and i think it's fascinating the way no one's discovered you

but you know what you aren't really that cute

except when you really laugh

like, a genuine, real-life laugh

it's the sweetest thing i've ever heard

like a whole new form of communication

almost better than hearing a child speak 

but i like silence, too

i guess it's been a long day

maybe we should talk tomorrow

i'll meet you at the launchpad

(blue

your eyes are actually

blue)
Loveless Wraith Mar 2012
Donuts, o donuts,
Wheat Flour Enriched
Soybean,
Palm and Cottonseed Oil Hydrogenated
Vegetable Oil Partially Hydrogenated
Cocoa Processed with Alkali,
Sodium Acid Pyrophosphate
Sodium Aluminum Phosphate
Aluminum Sulfate
Salt, Dextrose, Soy Lecithin,
Guar Gum, Cellulose Gum, Tapioca Dextrin,
Corn Dextrins, Mono Diglycerides,
Citric Acid, Enzymes,
Natural & Artificial colors & flavors
Sorbic Acid and Sodium Propionate
and Potassium Sorbate
To Retain Freshness:
Eat 'em up yum.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2019
and in my "hiatus" period of absence, circa 15th of April and 15th of December (minutes from a yesterday)... i've come to regret the Russians not having any... no... rather the bare minimum of orthography... surprise surprise! there's plenty to choose from! i had to return to a time when i was drilling greek into my head... naturally: a time for cyrillic was on the horizon... but... i couldn't do it with english alone... i need my mother tongue, a tongue that employs diacritical markers... again and again: english can do away with its j... it goes missing when raised to stand from a sitting position ȷ(J)... and it can cut the head off its I(standing)... ı(sitting)... to make an emphasis... i have been busy... drinking aside, have a look where i have been for the past... april, may, june, july, august, september, october, november, december:

ź = зь and ż = зъ

i'm drinking - and i am my most content - the world burns and goes about its usual wordly theatre... i'm huddling with a cameo role in the background... i am drinking content... my 3rd or 4th rejection letter! this time from : austin macauley publishers (london, cambridge, new york - sharjah - where the **** is sharjah?!) - i remember sending them a "manuscript" and a book already printed, bound... they said it would take them 6 weeks to reply... i didn't enclose an email address... i had to wait for the snailmail... my my... what lovely handwritting of my name and address... in the letter i did state: it's e(sch)lert... she omitted the (sch)... a rebecca crib admin assistant, of the editorial... 6 weeks though... hmm... i posted the letter and manuscript and the book way back prior to visiting my grandparents... circa 8th of september... it's a rejection letter... that much is true... but i'm drinking in celebration! i was making dinner in the afternoon and was asked: why are you so angry? i wasn't... i tried to figure out what i'd feel when enough of ms. amber was in me... i replied: i'm being apathetic... but now it's clear: i'm jovial! there's even a signature! an authentic signature... in all honesty... a rejection letter means something... if it is physically mailed... of course i'm celebrating! i exist! i exist outside the realm of getting spam snail-mail! of course i will reply... i'll tell them: destroy and recycle the manuscript - it really wasn't a manuscript to begin with... i pour my "efforts" on the manuscript canvas that's the html... but the already printed book? can you please not burn in... rather... keep it? i'd appreciate no 1933 Säuberung... and you know (kind reader) - i'll send this introspection to the same publisher... like it is... pop / pulp or whatever mongerel of style this has had to be... but a reply! i want to see how one might escape formal language, formal affairs, social affairs, esp. in letters - a dear ms. X / to whomever it might concern Y... kind regards / yours faithfuly Mr. Z... this has to be celebrated... given what's on the horizon... the norwegian novel viking a'comin'! the buldozer autobiography... the demand for a "death" of fiction... otherwise i'm still "here"... a "here" that truly is so distant that its distance allows my petty leeching and the world's grand fiasco theater of fire and smoke and mirrors! - after all... i'm not mad enough to be welcome to a cage if i'm a sparrow... a cage of rhyme, form and all those shackle devices / identifiers of "poetry"... the future is narrative... and the current narrative says? if you asked me to dress proper, for an opera... to don the shirt the tux and the bow (tie)... the well ironed trousers... perhaps... beside the point: air's in the head and i just wish i could heat it up... for a baloon of quasi-egoism effect... otherwise what is there... a former journalist becomes an isolationist essay-scribbler? all the best journalists retire from the profession and become essayists... polemicists... whatever... this "poet" says: no poet ever writes a novel... the real life is too fictive already... and most certain this "poet" adds: begone! lyricism and rhyme! i'll sing like the humming drone cleric of the hive of ambient refrigerator sounds at 2am when everything is sleeping...

capital: oh... so that's what it was... back circa 1990 - when inflation of currency was rife all over Poland? that's when foreign capital was flowing in: foreign money... the economy was flooded with pounds and dollars... and given the exchange rate: i remember a time when you could get circa 7zł for every 1 £ sterling... so why would a nation start to print its own money? well... because more foreign money is coming in - at the given exchange rate: apologies: i was born yesterday - i need to explain certain things, from scratch... as was once stated - there's only a finite amount of money in circulation... physical money... "apparently"... and no... if you were to materialise all the wealth in this world into either fiat or gold: there wouldn't be enough of it... but how else would inflation happen in a country like Poland circa 1992? foreign investement: the wild west of eastern europe when the soviet barricade fell... i do remember being asked a question as a child: which is more... these copper coins... or this piece of paper? on the piece of paper was written 5, 000, 000zł - i said the copper coins... i wasn't either right or wrong - the person asking the question laughed... i don't think it was a question of: there are more copper coins in the hand... than a single piece of paper... after all... perhaps i acted all trans-****-sapiens and became chimp and saw less zeros on the copper coins than on the piece of paper? how else does does a currency inflate - when foreign currency is poured into it... it's the opposite of foreign aid... you put £1 into an economy - with an exchange rate: currently you'd get circa 4, 50zł out of... so where is all this "excess" money to come from? the moment when foreign money is invested... is the moment you have to start printing your own money... imagine... if the word BLACK was worth more than CZERŃ (чернь): oh, we'd readily translate BLACK = CZERŃ... but we also need a sentence for that "to make sense"... and there i was... thinking that russian doesn't apply diacritical markers... oh... right... they're not as discrete with accents like some of us... notably? нь = ń... and so and likewise... wait wait... źródło (source)... in russian it would look, look: oh so ugly... зьрoьд-ł-ł-o... (wh)en (wh(en) but now i know this (w)oe: the soft sign (acute)... and the hard sign for... e.g. życzenia (wishes)... зъыченя (perhaps зъычениa) - point being: ź = зь and ż = зъ... now does language come to me...it never left me... but now ai appreciate the minor details... i see the english and their language and how they speak it... how they churn out metaphysics and how they call forthe help of **** similis to give history the rusty coating of: nothing between a today and tomorrow: there's only the hanging off a tree from a a tail that the chimpanze doesn't thave... everything is so very metaphysical: it's never orthographic! тe два: tak - тe: оба (there's a wikipedia mistake... U+0411 / U+0431... not o'bah... oo'b'ah...): щекaць: szczekać! to bark... eh... greek became too rigid... i could remember all the letters... always buckling on ζ (zETA) and ξ (11), upsilon (υ) and nu-nu-nu (ν)... and this is, practically nonsense to anyone with a base literacy knowledge... to exagerrate... who does mind such pedantic pleasures... when they could be somewhere else: skiing! but it's worthwhile to know how a nation's currency can be inflated... foreign money flows into the country - and whatever the exchange rate is... there is no such thing as a "grafitti compensation": then again, there is... perhaps literacy has been inflated... inflated for a second literacy of coding to be assured? otherwise? bypassing the orthodox print... bypassing orthodox editorial scrutiny... was... "nice"... until the moment when the mediator sought to see fit that the reader had more authority over the written word: having re(a)d it - over the person who had / has: written it! we do part our ways with the russians on the "debate" concerning the "cedilla" involving A(ą) and E(ę)... cedilla: yes yes... akin to garçon - waiter! waiter! please - that greek sigma at the end of a word: and all its ασπεκτς... aσpectς - that really is an orthographic statement... only Ssssssss'igma is a letter with "three dimensions" suited for it... a handwritten element... otherwise in the news this week? the apostrophe society is no more... like when you don't put a possessive article if the thing in "question" ends with an S, in english? e.g.? the colours' (sez sirs - alt. colours's sez sirs... ses-esses) imbued harmony... and that is a possesive article, isn't it? with an apostrophe: 's? it's not a plural identification - there would be no need for the apostrophe to begin with! pounds' worth: no... not a pound's worth - the worth of a pound... pounds' worth: the worth of pounds! - what's that german word... glücke! nein nein... etymological root: glück 'luck' (etymology is the new history... it bypasses journalism and serves some journalistic cousin that's powdered in dust of cremated bookworms) - and yes, a hypen can come to the fore: after a full-stop and the opening of a new sentence with a conjugation: - with disbelief / - and!

i'm not buying how the media narrative will turn Cymru into a "K-affair"... sim sim: similie or else... but these have been my greek buckles: ξ (oh... that's why i wrote 11... XI - ksi...) - it's rare to see ξ sometimes: esp. in philosophy books... rubric!

- ζ
- ν
- υ (i can be forgiven, these two letters
are not suited for print... unless working
with a microscope) - unlike a roman Vv...
- ξ

but this is just the greek... if you ever read some modern... you'd think: and i just don't know, where they get their ideas from - with all those diacritical excesses that heidegger notes...

but now... for my cyrillic mini-adventure:

from Miньsk (Mazowieцki): with love

it might be said, that if i just the bare minimum -
if i even do not write anything at all -
but i have too many petty griefs during the day
to much else than the odd, occasional chore;
at the same time i do not want to sound
amused, bewildered, bored or un-used...
it's just that i find writing and drinking before
falling to my 343rd death -
my 343rd labour for mask and then exfoliated
in a dream: that might come...
or might not come...
unless a known audience... a wake sized nieche
privy... i find either unconscious or subconscious
struggles to warm up to an anonymous crowrd...
unless it was me being propped up on stage...
flooded by light... and the audience in the din:
with barely a shadow to scratch...
perhaps: then and only then...
but i've found that: it would be best that i sentence
the 2hs spare i have for merely drinking
and loitering from one video to another:
perchance something new in music is to emerge...
"coquettish" with a "something" that will never
have any realism-focus for me to undertake
a second's day carnality of the banal...
perhaps all this: "going out of my own way"
has been too much - or just enough...
to make me drink more and take more pharma
knock-out enzymes...
a naproxen and an amitriptyline...
perhaps the focus was elsewhere...
to stand frozen in awe...
when someone might "add": from one big void:
ex nihil a priori to... nihil a posteriori...
and all this cameo theatre in between!
mein gott... i can also convene to praise those
brutal breeders of sorts...
enough time to occupy two decades...
perhaps even three...
and then the grim reality of: should my child
die... or... some other worse:
the mortal should not be inflicted by...
"not reading into the genetic clues": properly:
"all at once"...
oh i would be so much happier to take this mind to sleep:
to not make some idle focus -
to entertain some eyes while i turn aside all things
hyper-inflated in purpose...
to die of a heart-attack in one's sleep...
but otherwise to simply focus on a welcome tomorrow...
that would be...
a gracious beginning to posit the day's slouching
zenith... or... i'm not sure whether this be a coming
zenith or a nadir...
but there's still that clear-cutting focus
regarding russian orthography...
cutting it with two tongues... slit at the tip...
with english the "placebo": no diacritical markers evident...
well: a TILDE over a ȷ is no more necessary...
than a "tittle" (not thai-tle... ty'ttle) over an ı...
to borrow the greek phrase: cut one head of hydra -
two emerge... cut the two heads...
i come toward the russian mish-mash of diacritical
application...
it's not be-au-ti-ful... it's messy... it's what it is...
but already i can see what this: cutting off the heads
of the english j-i hydra looks like...
it's not enough to simply enlarge them to state: CAP(I)TAL-(J)...
the knitty-gritty... why then the tilde atop of 'em?
prior "corrections": łen and when...
is not akin to... wrak or wreck... although these two words
have the same meaning...
unless: "partisan" V comes in...
very - weary... Cracow or Krakov?
a W = a Ł = a W = a V ≠ a Ł...
Ęwa and Ądam (e nosinė) are not covered by
Russian orthography...
the list is as follows:
ż (зъ) and... ć (ць), ń (нь), ó (oь), ś (сь), ź (зь)...
the graphemes? i'll call them graphemes for simplicity...
even though: they're not the smallests units...
as are vowels... or the syllables of consonants
in the latin choir of B'ee, C'ee... e'M... etc.
ж alternatively RZ (Ż) or Ž... otherwise the fwench:
je (suis)... this is nothing more than...
an encyclopedic evaluation...
a trainwreck proposal of: should i ever be stuck in
in russia... and i would have to: read... (ee'd - r'ah)...
chop off a TILDE off the torso of the english:  ȷ...
a crescent moon lying back emerges in the russian... й...
but it's not the english: jeep! it's an english: yeep!
or a  ȷeep! alternatively: yawn could be:  ȷawn...
but not if: it's jaws... coming into play: to chatter from
the siberian cold... how else to explain?
if not by... example?
then there's the "exploration" of the greek F...
as much as in english...
фoughts on θilosoφy...
good to know the russians only "borrowed"
one of the greek Fs... "culturally appropriated" or...
wasn't St. Cyrill born a greek?!
and away from greek we move...
since χ (chi): yep: perpleX... a Ks to a Ts
(note, revision found below)...
otherwise hidden... in non-vowel binding consonants...
like... ч- and -х (although... that's not quiet a Ch-ur-hC -
but sure... some altar for siц and... no... no siPS)...
cholera! which is not: SHow me the CHow mein...
for that we need CARONs...
that's when ч becomes CZ (in polish) or otherwise:
Č... long have i wanted the polish to adopt this version...
to hide the SZ and the CZ (es'zed, х'zed) respectively...
how else to write: szczekam?
a russian would write... щекaм...
out of a "simple" ш out pops out a щ (this letter...
is probably the only "etymological" route to bind russian
to the oddities of Ęva and Ądam (e nosinė)...
ш (š) becomes щ (šč) -
whoever was to undermine the old rules
of engagement when the ruling parties gave up
a monolopy of literacy? you can literally hide an entire
letter / meaning by using a hachek...
hook...
as i begin to wonder:
how much did the slavic tribes "appropriate" greek...
and how much did the two greek saints...
try to make sense of the slavic glagolitic script?
em... Ⱋ looks pretty intact if you cut off the body... E:
reclining...
but i do come from the western lands of the eastern
lands... hence? hardly any cyrilic influence...
but i too: with my own oddities... already mentioned...
come to think of it? the bulgars joined
the "party"?
beside that? what other, russian"oddities"?
orthographic - i.e. aesthetic dictations / rubrics...
ю really is a я... the russians have this english tendency
to stress their pronouns...
i this... i that! i walked up a street! and kicked a black
cat 13 times down the street to ease my luck!
you can talk in polish for days... and never stress the I / я
pronoun... really...
and ю is just a variation of я...
throw in the remaining vowels and you'd probably
come up with some "new" russian letters...
like ye... good point... i did make a "mistake"...
щэкaм! i'm barking!
unless... that's only an orthographic question...
notably? if you're going to: zerkać...
peer in / at "on and off"... casually...
зэркaць... em... it must be an orthographic question...
ergo? i wasn't exactly "wrong"...
just bad taste... зeркaць...
i've already shown the difference between (ъ) and (ь)
in a latin script: that uses more diacritical markers
than english "supposedly" escapes with focusing
on the rather pointless TILDE over the J and I...
this "oddity": ы... ɨ  clearly it's not exactly a ł...
minor details... like a mona lisa smiling...
best example of close proximity?
take a... no... that's a hollowed out "why"...
i know how it sounds... and there are no diacritical marks
needed for it... since there's a clear distinction
that i know of, between: I J Y...
tY... this little sucker is born from the fact that...
western slavs have a name for this letter...
iGREK... funny... the russians borrow more greek lettes...
and have to have...
ё (yo), e (ye), у (which they treat like a greek would U -
never mind the greeks themselves
making the following ref. Υγ / Γυ) -
and of course the я (ya)... so no wonder i see this
"letter" (ы) as an absolutely oddity...
i could stomach: ż (зъ) and ź (зь) differences...
well that's as far as i would come in learning russian...
spot the odd ones out... proper...
й (j) and ё... which is some german loan vowel with
that ******* umlaut... otherwise...
this poo'em was born from trying to **** the english
hydra of "orthography", with its mighty bounty
of the ȷ-ı TILDE! my my... what a ride!
come to think of it... now i think i can sleep.
- it hasn't been such a waste of an hour... drilling this in:
into my head...
after all... what did the professional clarinet player
say then asked about playing professionally
in a travelling orchestra? after 30 ******* years of
blowing hard into this thing...
guess what i still end up doing?
it's not so much learning... i'm still practising!

because this will not end like some sort of "summary"...
i will remember each letter if i weave it into
this latin letter by letter...

the refleξive (x)
in that one might have χeated (ch) -
again!
what it is about an ξ-ray that is also an
"χ"-ray? the "ex" k'ss k'ss cuss...
is this what james joyce's finnegans wake
should have looked like?
again!
the cruξ of the matter...
whenever a question was to be raised about:
any χoice to be had...

i have come to grips with russian orthography...
i'll repeat... the crescent moon over и ("e")
to state: this must be elongated: й ("y") stands outs...

best examples are given by sports commentators,
notably in ski jumping...
suffiξes of surnames...
akin to -cki endings...
yes... you're seeing what i'm seeing...
we'll need some russians to work this one
out... how a C is not an S...
and how it's not KK either...
-цки... hello wet drum-kit snare!

of course not: you're not seeing N:И...
let alone: нaйт (night...
evidently -igh- is a bit complicated...
with ref. to the surd in knight - kappa and
the gamma and the ha ha ha ha tetragrammaton
left arm... vowel catcher i'd be most inclined
to borrow from the hebrews...
whenever they're not busy actually using it...
and not being a bunch of 'ebrews -
electronic brewing of tea?)
сo дaрк (so dark)...

which is the equivalent of writting english
grafitti "backward"... how it sounds...
and not for: what's the formality?
i figured: take the small steps, the trickle...
burn the eyes out with incremental poppy-seed
acts of progress... like the grand Pilgrim Emeryk
from the Świętokrzyski region of Poland
(holy cross)...
each year the pilgrim shuffles to the top of
the mountain with a speed of:
a poppy-seed's worth of distance each year...
by the time he reaches the top of the mountain:
the end of the world will arrive...

am i the next Delmore Schwatrz?
no... i don't have a Lou Reed to contend with...
am i obsessed with Finnegans Wake?
well i didn't spot any "additions" to the letters...
i didn't see any diacritical markers...
a book that shouldn't be translated since...
it ignores... a worthwhile mention
of the concept of orthography -
which is my escape from any western vogue
of metaphysics... i hide behind the omniscient
niqab of orthography... my face can be forever
hidden... but my eyes need to be on... fire!
fire! i want you to burn!

so i went to see the russians having
left the greeks... about any "nuance" bound
to the... ****-naked english language
with its magic act of the disappearing heads
off of J and I...
as you do... you "forget them" and also have to:
somehow "remember" them to be used...

do i still enjoy drinking and listening to
teutonic chants in german?
god almighty! when wouldn't i not listen to german
medieval music... when drinking?!
is that such a terrible sin?

also? i finished the trilogy of H. Sienkiewicz...
and i read some Boris Pasternak...
there was Nietzsche in polish - paul's leash said:
he's more bearable in this language,
than in english...
and how could i forget! there was...
Knausgård... Karl, Ove... volumes 1 and 2
of mein kampf...

now a "summary": hmm... ż (зъ) and... ć (ць)...
could... now... hard sign (ъ) is not exactly worth
ascription if... or rarther: because...
you don't treat a caron over an S or a C...
to "hide the english H" or the Aesti Z when coupled...
there's no need to write чъ... since?
that's pretty much in-itself given č of the nature
of чeap...
ć / ць is different in that... you'd have to hear
it first...
however... the one exception of this "rule" is already
self-enclosed in ж... which is зъ... somehow...
but not зь... examples?

жart / зъart... żart (joke)...
зьrebi... well there's no 'ę' in russian
to name: źrebię - mustang colt...
is there?
so... i was "wrong"...
in that ź = зь and ż = зъ is true...
but? ź = зь and ż = зъ = ж...
so from a "quiet unique" perspective...
and: mein gott! who's to see, travel,
and subsequently marvel at the pyramids of giza...
i'm a different version of what's
considered to be "tourism"...

give me this sole equation:
ź = зь and ż = зъ = ж
and i'll be happy for a month.
as i have been...

oh i'm back... and things have taken
SPEC-TAC-U-LAR turns and twists!
****-naked english over 'ere is gonna make
a chariots of fire runner...
i bet it will... when it comes against a juggernaut
like me.
learning russian and drilling greek until i go "blind"
Jessica Golich Nov 2014
Enzymes directing life force through biochemical processes - nutrients from bountiful soil fusing metabolic, synchronic pulsations and creating existential tonic
Developing a constellation of ideas; a symphony of fresh and innovative designs oscillating between various meditative and educative representations at increasingly high, metaphysical levels of vibration.
David Nelson Jun 2010
Pyrophosphite/Pyrophosphate

Souces of energy, since the beginning of time
chemical processors of matter within
that God did make these, is no mystery of mine
the maker of all things, and that includes sin

all living beings require energy transported
from a tiny bacteria, to a complex human
enzymes with chemical energy reported
how this all happpens, I have no clue man

Pyrophosphate is a simple molecule, an early precursor
consumed by the mystery of organic matter  
but there is something more simple, a complex rehearser
taken away the theories of the dreams they now scatter

Pyrophosphite is smarter, no enzymes required
hydrogen is more bountiful exploding with life
no catylyst needed, to process before tired
water molucules is husband to phosphates wife

does all of this matter, does the matter mean much
when the bottom line ascends to the top
is this too deep, am I way out of touch
science is in me, I cant make it stop

Gomer Lepoet...
Creep Jan 2015
In biology today,
We learned that a lysosome
Digests old wornout organelles,
And once it becomes too full,
It will burst,
And its digestive enzymes
Will destroy the cell.

I wonder if the heart will do the same,
Take in
all the lonelys,
all the misfits,
all the hurting,
Take it all in,
Until it bursts and destroys you.
Whatcha say?
By jason derulo

Idk man, class connections? Ive been spending too much time studying. I gotta chill.
Arfah Afaqi Zia Oct 2015
I confabulate with thee,
Your words cut me so deep,
Leaving scars beneath the holes piercing in my heart,

Your voice so unreachable,
I try to connect with you,
But the feelings of complete and utter love, far gone.

Uncontrollable urges dwelling inside me,
My mouth so dry, out of words,
Trying to communicate in terms of getting thee,

Tranquility far from being found,
Loneliness scares me,
Your presence though, takes my breath away and calms me down,

My weak heart,
Wilts without you,
Defoliating internally and breaking me,

My nervous system,
Secreting enzymes from the pituitary gland,
Enzymes of hopelessness and heart break,

It feels like an ocean without water,
Incomplete and dry,
Waiting to fulfill that thirst of love,

A day without you,
Feels like an era passed,
Changing my surrounding and you on the way,

Devastated I am,
Deprived of that charismatic love we once shared,
Now bond-less, like oxygen being separated from hydrogen,

With ever drop of blood that falls,
Draining all my veins and arteries,
I can swear, I will always love you till the day my heart stops beating.
Liz Humphrey Apr 2014
Oh, Lac Operon, gene cluster great, you code for enzymes three,
but only if Lactose in the cell arrives to set you free.
Lac Z, Lac A, Lac Y: these genes would be expressed
yet a crafty protein from gene I keeps you so repressed.
Binding to the Operator, I’s Repressor keeps you capped.
Do not despair—Lactose saves you from this cruel Repressor trap,
for Lactose turns the Repressor off, giving you the space
to make galactosidase, transacetylase, and lactose permease.
Then Polymerase binds the Promoter, and the Lac genes have their day.
yet alas! They break down Lactose, taking your savior away.
When Lactose is gone, the Repressor binds and causes you to freeze,
so Operon, to live again, you must find more milk and cheese.
Inspired by science.
CANCER IS A VITAMIN-DEFICIENCY DISEASE: HOW TO CURE IT: DO NOT SUBMIT TO RADIO- & CRYO-ABLATIVE & CHEMO- “THERAPIES” — TAKE PANCREATIC ENZYMES — AVOID CERTAIN FOODS & HABITS — TAKE VITAMIN B17 (1 to 6 grams daily on a full stomach) AND THE VITAMINS LISTED BELOW — EAT THE CARCINOLYTIC FOODS LISTED BELOW — “Therapeutic” radiation, in any amount, harms living tissue. (Röntgen rays, electromagnetic radiation, x-rays, x-radiation, ionizing radiation, corpuscular radiation can be implemented for diagnostic purposes, but never for therapeutic benefit.) Chemo- “therapy” poisons healthy tissue [necrocytotoxin – a toxin that produces death of cells]. Of the 4 protocols in traditional (allopathic) cancer “therapy”: surgery (cutting), radiation (burning), cryo-ablation/cryosurgery (hypothermia) & chemo/chemical/chemicocautery (poisoning/toxifying), only manual surgery possesses some legitimacy when malignant (cancerous) growth has reached a certain stage. It is far better to avoid cancer than to treat it. Cancer is the body's inability to stop the process of healing, the same natural process in producing a placenta (that one pound ***** attached to the uterine membrane which serves to nourish a developing baby). The essential anti-cancer (tumoricidal) vitamin is VITAMIN B17 (known as Amygdalin, and as Laetrile when synthesized from apricot pips). If you have cancer you must greatly reduce, or avoid: caffeine, tobacco, red meat, alcohol, corn syrup, cane sugar, tomato products. [U.S. cancer affliction rates: the year 1900 : 3%; 1950 : 20%; 1972 : 27%; 1999 : 39%; 2020 : 50%]

VITAMIN B17 is abundant in these foods: the seeds of apples, loquats, pears, pumpkins, watermelons; as well as in apricot kernels, bamboo shoots, barley grass (research: Dr. Yoshihide Hagiwara) & wheat grass, beet tops, bitter almond, blackberries, boysenberries, brewers yeast, brown rice, buckwheat, cashews, cassava root, cassava manioc, cherry kernels, cranberries, currants, eucalyptus leaves, fava beans, flax seeds, garbanzo beans, gooseberries, guyabano, huckleberries, lentils, lima beans, linseed meat, loganberries, macadamia nuts, millet, millet seed, peach kernels, pecans, plum kernels, pokeberries, prickly ash bark, quince, raspberries, sorghum cane syrup, spinach, sprouts, tapioca (manioc), vetches and watercress. A person whose diet is deficient in these nitrilosidic foods (those foods rich in Amygdalin, the substance of which the molecularity is 1 part: the natural analgesic benzaldehyde, 1 part: hydrogen cyanide, 2 parts: glucose) is incapable of stopping the over-production of healing cells thus this person has cancer. To aid the pancreas a patient should take pancreatic enzymes & eat fresh pineapple and papaya. Supplement your diet with the nutrients (of which 95% of Americans are chronically deficient) that compliment Laetrile (vitamin B17): zinc (which is the transport mechanism for Laetrile/vitamin B17) ~ vitamin C (build up to 6 grams a day) ~ manganese ~ magnesium ~ selenium ~ vitamins B6, B9 & B12 ~ vitamin A ~ vitamin E (at least 2,000 I.U.) A cheap, over-the-counter, *****-analysis pregnancy test is accurate in 92% of cases at detecting cancerous cell activity in the body. Men & women can test for cancer upon rising with a pregnancy test as cancer and pre-embryonic cells are virtually indistinguishable (in functionality) from cells designated as: adenocarcinomal, adenocarcinomic, adenocarcinomical, ameboid, amnic, amnional, amnionic, amniotic, amniotical, anaplastic, anaplastical, angiogenetic, angiogenetical, angiogenic, angiogenical, angiosarcomal, astrocytomal, astrocytomic, atypical, basal, basaltic, blastocystic, blastomal, cacoethic, canceral, cancerial, cancerian, cancerigenic, cancerigenical, cancerillic, canceritic, cancerogenic, cancerogenical, cancroidal, cancerophilic, cancerus (archaic), cankerous, carcinoembryonic, carcinoembryonical, carcinogenic, carcinogenical, carcinoidal, carcinomal, carcinomatoid, carcinomatosic, carcinomatous, carcinomic, carcinosarcomal, cholangiocarcinomal, chondrosarcomal, chordomal, dedifferentiated, desmoistic, desmoplastic, desmoplastical, dyscrasial, dysgerminomal, dysgerminomic, dysplastic, dysplastical, embryonal, embryonic, embryonical, endometrial, endophytic, epithelial, epitheliomatous, endophytic, exophytic, extra-embryonic, fetational, fetoplacental, fetoplacentic, foetational, fibroblastic, germinogenic, gestational, glioblastomal, hemangiosarcomal, histometaplastic, Hürthle, hypermutable, hypermutagenic, Kaposian, leiomyosarcomal, leukemiac, leukaemial, leukemial, leucaemicus, leukaemic, leukaemical, leukemic, leukemical,  leukocythemic, leukocytomic, liposarcomal, lymphomal, lymphomatous, lymphomic, macroglobulinemiac, malignal, malignant, malignantal, malignantic, malignus, medulloblastomal, melanocytic, melanomatous, melanotic, metastatic, metastatical, metrial, Müllerian, mutagenic, mutagenical, mutated, mutational, mycoplasmal, mycoplasmic, mycoplasmical, myelodysplastic, myelodysplastical, myelomal, myelomatoid, myelomonocytic, myelomonocytical, myeloproliferative, myxoid, myxoidic, necrogenic, necrogenous, neo-blastic, neo-embryonic, neo-fetal, neo-formative, neo-genetic, neo-genetical, neo-plasiac, neo-plasmatic, neo-plasmatical, neo-plasmical, neo-plasmic, neo-plastic, neo-plastigenic, nephroblastomal, neurofibrosarcomal, odontogenic, oncogenic, oncogenical, oncogenetic, oncogenetical, oncologic, oncological, osteosarcomal, paramalignant, paraneoplasmic, paraneoplastic, paraneoplastical, pathogenetic, pathogenetical, pathogenic, pathogenical, placental, placentational, pleiomorphic, pleomorphic, polycythemial, polymorphic, polymorphical, polypoidal, pluripotent, pre-cancerous, pre-embryonal, pre-leukemic, promyelocytic, promyelocytical, proto-embryonic, proto-leukemic, pre-squamous, pre-tumorous, proto-oncogenetic (gene), proto-tumorous, pseudocystical, quasi-neoplastic, sarcoidal, sarcomal, sarcomatous, seminomal, teratomal, teratomatous, theliomal, toxicogenic, toxicogenomic, trophic, trophical, trophoblastic, trophoblastical, trophoplasmatic, trophoplasmic, tumefactive, tumefied, tumid, tumidus, tumoral, tumorigenic, tumorigenical, tumorlike, tumorous, tumoural,
Watch: G. Edward Griffin's "World Without Cancer." https://youtu.be/tPADSv3XAv0
Amygdalin is a natural anti-cancer agent : PMID: 31958042
IN BRIEF Concerning Cancer: 1. Take a pregnancy test just after waking up. For men a positive result means either cancer or a false positive. Take another test the next day. If a man gets 3 positive results then likely he has cancer somewhere. For women a positive result means (if she's able to become pregnant) she's pregnant or she has cancer, or she's pregnant and she has cancer, or a false positive (the test result is wrong). 2. Several positive pregnancy test results = cancer. What next? STOP eating red meat, sugar, corn syrup. STOP drinking *****. STOP (or at least cut back on) smoking. 3. Eat fresh pineapple & papaya. Take vitamin B17 (at least 1 gram daily) and wheat grass and/or barley grass liquid or capsules (they're rich in vitamin B17), on a full stomach daily (you can't overdose on them ~ they're not poisonous). Take a zinc supplement. Take pancreatic enzymes. REVIEW: TAKE pregnancy tests to detect cancer. TAKE vitamin B17 (and as many of the listed vitamins as you can, especially zinc). Eat fresh pineapple & papaya. STOP eating red meat & cane sugar. It will take several weeks on B17 therapy to turn out negative pregnancy test results. The tumor WILL NOT shrink much even after the cancer is gone because only 10% of the tumor was cancer. The tumor MAY swell temporarily as the vitamin B17 kills malignant cells. NOTE: Vitamin B17 therapy WILL NOT destroy the tumor! Vitamin B17 therapy will destroy the malignant cells (cancerous cells) of the tumor and within the tumor. Only 5% to 10% of the cells comprising a tumor are cancerous cells. In time the tumorous growth will be absorbed, in whole or in part. Unless the tumor is cosmetically displeasing, impinging nerves or blood vessels or hampering normal ****** function then let it be.

The life expectancy for American medical doctors is 58 years.
The life expectancy for Haitian voodoo witch doctors is 62.7 years.

WEB: Dr. Dean Burk (March 21, 1904 – October 6, 1988), head of the cytochemistry section of the National Cancer Institute has reported that in a series of tests on animal tissue, the B17 had no effect, but released so much cyanide and benzaldehyde when it came in contact with cancer cells that not one of them could survive. He said, “When we add Laetrile to a cancer culture under the microscope, we see the cancer cells dying off like flies.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the Web : In 1972, Dr. Dale Danner, a podiatrist from Santa Paula, Ca., developed a pain in the right leg and a severe cough. X-rays revealed carcinoma of both lungs and what appeared to be massive secondary tumors in the leg. The cancer was inoperable and resistant to radio therapy. The prognosis was: incurable and fatal. At the insistence of his mother, Dr. Danner agreed to try Laetrile, although he had no faith in its effectiveness. Primarily, just to please her, he obtained a large supply in Mexico. But he was convinced from what he had read in medical journals that it was nothing but quackery and a fraud. "Perhaps it was even dangerous," he thought, for he noticed from the literature that it contained cyanide. Within a few weeks the pain and the coughing had progressed to the point where no amount of medication could hold it back. Forced to crawl on his hands and knees, and unable to sleep for three days and nights, he became despondent and desperate. Groggy from the lack of sleep, from the drugs, and from the pain, finally he turned to his supply of Laetrile. Giving himself one more massive dose of medication, hoping to bring on sleep, he proceeded to administer the Laetrile into an artery. Before losing consciousness, Dr. Danner had succeeded in taking at least an entire ten-day supply -- and possibly as high as a twenty day supply -- all at once. When he awoke thirty six hours later, much to his amazement, not only was he still alive, but also the cough and pain were greatly reduced. His appetite had returned, and he was feeling better than he had in months. Reluctantly he had to admit that Laetrile was working. So he obtained an additional supply and began routine treatment with smaller doses. Three months later he was back at work.

   Mr. David Edmunds of Pinole, California, was operated on in June of 1971 for cancer of the colon, which also had metastasized or spread to the bladder. When the surgeon opened him up, he found that the malignant tissue was so widespread it was almost impossible to remove it all. The blockage of the intestines was relieved by severing the colon and bringing the open end to the outside of his abdomen -- a procedure known as colonostomy. Five months later, the cancer had worsened, and Mr. Edmunds was told that he had only a few more months to live.
   Mr. Edmunds, who is a nurse, had heard about Laetrile and decided to give it a try. Six months later, instead of lying on his deathbed, Mr. Edmunds surprised his doctors by feeling well enough to resume an almost normal routine. An exploratory cystoscopy of the bladder revealed that the cancer had disappeared. At his own insistence, he was admitted to the hospital to see if his colon could be put back together again. In surgery, they found nothing even resembling cancer tissue. So they reconnected the colon and sent him home to recuperate. It was the first time in the history of the hospital that a reverse colostomy for this condition had been performed. At the time of the author's last contact three years later, Mr. Edmunds was living a normal life of health and vigor.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2016
i had a friend once, we used to meet up for drinks and talk *******... i like that notion: once... because it was only for a short period of time, i got ~bored of him, but in actual fact disgusted by him... one of those Dostoyevsky moments from Notes from the Underground... this is the thing about being well-read, self-educated, self-educated to the point where you can loudly say: university taught me nothing, hence my third class degree and ample material of having observed the pigs's numbed snout nibbling on the trough... how easily someone can say: i'm writing a book! i' writing a book! but when the question comes: can i see it? there's no book! i thought this friendly exchange concerning ***** and other juices of creativity would precipitate into a grand finale of actually seeing the sweat and tears on paper... so when i told him: i'm getting published, 100 copies and all, an introduction by an Armenian doctor... decent review... well... naturally jealousy came in... he said i should name the effort a word salad... funny thing about being well-read... you know certain terminological hot points... he was out there writing a book but really smoking dope and playing computer games like computer games are supposed to be played these days: about a million Stephen Spielbergs directing very economised games, very economised meaning: a great investment in them. he was being condescending with suggesting i name my first collection word salad, but that's the problem of being well-read, you know that word salad is a degrading term for someone not capable of writing a coherent narrative... someone who doesn't understand his own words, someone who writes loosely associated sentences of meaning, it's not a pleasant term... that was simply insulting my intelligence, not the sort of intelligence that's quantified within the framework of the i.q., when i mean the less statistical variation i'm invoking: intelligence quantum - a certain amount of understanding concerning a certain focus of interest - as with Kant, we choose what the mind might find entertaining, and discard what isn't entertaining - certainly, not everything contains in itself enough "energy" (for lack of a better word, hence the "   ") to be entertaining, partially because we are limited in what we find entertaining: a) something we understand or   b)   something we can barely grasp... usually the latter scenario, but sometimes the former... but to claim something is a word salad? let's just say i have enough psychiatric literature under my belt to know it's a degrading remark... and the hermit and a severed friendship.

people never think you're well read,
but they never, for once, think that
your isolation is due to the fact that you read,
as with the above stated scenario of
someone thinking you might not have
come across a phrase, that's essentially
degrading - too much video games and ***
will do that to you...
                          as with Bukowski
boasting about reading -
                                             he apparently
read Kant but doesn't bother to mention any
key ideas... populist at heart,
    sure... if i didn't bother to learn the laws
of spelling and punctuation...
                           i'd say as much on the rebellion
of never bothering to learn to tie my shoelaces...
it's pretty much the equivalent of...
     what he already said.
                              and philosophy books do
require patience... they're usually masturbated over
by students writing essays and instead
of going the full nine yards and entering
the narrative, they squeeze out a maxim and that's
that...
                       i'm 30 pages away from
entering the final part of the critique:
                                  transcendental methodology -
30 pages and i'm guessing two years since i
started reading the critique -
                                     well,
philosophy is more geology in terms of reactions
than it is chemistry, where reactions take much
less time to be completed -
                    philosophy in that sense is a variation
of geology - poetry and other forms of literature
are more or less chemically bound to be abrupt,
painfully drunk on the highs and lows -
                             and volatile -
                                                     hence the comparison.
   should i quote? i think i should...

idee czystego rozumu nie mogą nigdy same w sobie
być dialektyczne, lecz jedynie samo złe stosowanie
   ich musi sprawiać, że wypływa z nich dla nas
zwodniczy pozór.
                                                     (p. 303, vol 2,
                                      wydawnictwo naukowe PWN)

               another thing to mention... transcendental
methodology might be simplified in terms of
    transcendental grammar classification, i.e. borrowing
concepts higher than the general classification of words
allows -
                  the double noun exfoliation -
                                    apart from naming a word,
we can absorb the activity of the word beyond mere names:
         words that act as catalysts
                                   words that act as enzymes -
                 should there be specific examples?
                                   in general the substrate to product
transformation using an enzyme
                                                   can be voiced by sophists
throughout the ages -
                                 inflammatory coercion of words
to specific bundles of predictable excerpts is standard
                       when the pulpit is filled and all void denied.
but concerning the above quote, i too was thinking
something along the lines of *a priori
being obstructive
       of the ideas of pure reason accommodating dialectics.

trans.
            ideas of pure reason cannot, ever, in themselves
                    be dialectical, but only the wrong application
of such ideas must cause, that from them there flows
        a deceptive guise.


      i could quote further, but the a priori principle is
the argued against dialectics are a false nature acquisition
in terms of these ideas of pure reasoning -
               that we've been given these ideas by a supreme
manifestation of nature in us, i.e. that this highest of
all possible tribunals dealing with pretensions and laws
of our speculation, could also contain within itself
primordial illusions and (loosely) spaghetti muddles.

            true to the reason behind moving from a)
a priori              through to          b)    a posteriori -
        if pure ideas are caustically anti-dialectical,
it's because dialectics would rarely mind the transition
being elementary -
                                       but then again,
i imagine the dialectics in a purely a priori guise
and the Newtonian debate given Einstein's counter-proofs...
in that sense, i somehow seem to disagree with Kant...
well, then again no... in themselves they cannot be
dialectical: i.e. disputed or argued against,
  hence the deceptive guise when Newton was supreme
for so many centuries and then Einstein came along
   and the mask that Newton put on the face of gravity
was to be found not straight, but parabolic.
so yes, that's true: time and space are ideas of pure reason,
and they cannot be dialectical -
                                        even though they are
but not in-themselves dialectical,
                                        they have to possess a dialectical
facade, or at least that's what they exfoliated
              and sedate with...
                                              i'd go one step further:
dialectics is, as far as i know, the only way to approach
ideas of pure reason -
                                           only once dialectics shows
us the ideas of impure reason (the Socratic daemon) -
as leading us into acknowledgement
                                              that certain things are truly
non-debatable -
                                      but that they somehow have
to be debated in order that they might be refined
for the purpose of them being true to their nature:
non-dialectical.
                                   this approach is at least better than
what becomes forcefully adhered to,
                                 i'm still facing a dialectical concern
over Darwinism...
                                      primarily because...
well... my concern is that a belief in a god is more comforting
not for some case in jurisprudence, a heaven on high...
          it's the bothersome timescale and the fact that
skeletons and drawings on cave walls are not much of
a comfort either...
                                   partially also, due to the fact that
i like to think about the item of concern, rather than
express some sort of benediction toward the item of concern:
    there's nothing insensible about that,
given that god, as much as space and time, is an idea
of pure reason -                if i was imbued with
   a natural supplement of atheism, i'd still be trapped
in a dialectical moment of concern -
                                 until i'd finally shed all manner
of a dialectical approach concerning the idea: and make
the final non-dialectical statement of faith.
the flip side is not whether you're right or wrong,
  but whether you actually can make that statement.
as far as i'm concerned (well, i never had that much
admiration for the man) - Mr. B never read a **** thing
of philosophy.

i find it abhorring to somehow feel the need for
a condescending approach to this subject of interest...
as any assurance there need be concerning philosophy...
one thing is perfected witch each new approach to
the subject: you never actually find the time to moan
about not being with women... or how poorly humans
treat each other... you never seem to complain about
solitude, you never once feel lonely...
                                                   you quiet simply get on
with it...                         perhaps that's what it always way:
the best way to entertain yourself...
                    you're basically having to write out with
ease crossword puzzles in your mind that precipitate down
onto the blank page... somehow with it:
life is bearable when alone... and there are more
entertainment hot-spots... none to do with gambling...
                 so that's about as much as being pegged
down to size actually means...
                                         never true: that cinematic
feat to depict modern (and very much Anglo) guises
of modern alienation...
                                           then again: he probably
did read it, but he never bothered to discuss it in any
way relevant as for it to be revealing his interest in
the topics... macho cool keeping it trendy, i'm guessing.
Enzymes
eating fat stains
they're
land mines.
The tools of
macromolecules astound me
they're all
around me
if they ever found me
I'd be cleaned away.
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Nearing great compost pile,
that steamy heap,
insatiable hunger hits guts.
And I know fortitude for journey
is contained in wealth of
centipedes, predatory mites,
rove beetles, ants,
nematodes, protozoa,
and **** of wriggly worms.

Virgil waits for me, as he did Dante.
He takes form of a sowbug,
but with whole of worldly wisdom.
Shows me circles to which I will fall:
organic residues,
primary consumers,
secondary consumers
and further tertiary consumers.
An ancient pyramid decompositional
processes the scaling down
before the rising up. Each eating
excrement of another before them.

One I become with slugs and snails.
Invertebrates shred meat from bone.
Flies make airborne my bacteria,
carrying me off to feed birth of
future fungi.

I am reborn over and over.

Never more have I known
anything more Godly.
Intestinal juices of earth, enzymes
and other fermentation
taking me down,
pushing me out,
transforming trash of my existence
back to Eden.
From compost comes a wealth of life.
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
Anyone who wants to fight me all the time
committee meetings, board meetings.
Facing death was how they knew they were alive
or was it more about allocating resources
like yr Dad said.
It's hard to step outside what yr DNA tells you to do.
Nice ****.
Family farm, fight club. It's all one yet distinctions are
what separates the librarian, reflective man, from the road and bridge
      crew.
That's a class statement. Us guys love
our children and will, circumstances dictating, fight for you.

                                 --------------------------------------

Anyone who wants to fight me all the time
is more important to me than my wife. But there is no one left to fight
and no one knows me and I know no one well. That's good,
there is more space between people than I'd ever dared to hope.
I'm confused.
Meditator or gunfighter. Either could come to know himself,
flat abs, clear sight
with patience and discipline.
What's this:
know yourself?
Once yr knee or neck is smashed there's no getting up to fight.

                                 --------------------------------------

Anyone who wants to fight me all the time
will grow old alone once I'm in the ground. He will live
with the question what was our purpose? He was managed by
the molecules we're made of, proteins, enzymes, amino acids, DNA.
******* DNA.
I'd rather be a rock.
But the rock is subject to
its elements. Thus, the periodic table and particle physics,
meiosis and mitosis and yes, democracy and self-governance,
all the colors of anthropology and ecology, windmills and sundials,
fission and fusion for evil and light
and the devil who exists to carry the load when we misbehave and
      fight
among ourselves.

                                 --------------------------------------

Anyone who wants to fight me all the time
is how I know who I am.
Because the truth is always changing, depending on the meeting.
What's good.
Service to others is a safe bet. That service
may take many forms: fighting, meeting, teaching, making.
The fighting may be part of holding community together. Limited
      scope, defensive posture.
How broadly we define community says everything. So,
we come to Mexico, a violent border and an unhappy history.
Or Gaza and Israel. Or Russia and just about everybody.
How can a people become a nation without resorting to violence or
      incurring violent reaction?
Does it matter? Accept violence like any EMT and devote yourself
      to
what, beauty?
Why do I write about violence, I've almost never
had to fight.

                                 --------------------------------------

Anyone who wants to fight me all the time
is nothing compared to the ocean which can take your children any
      time.
The Nazis or janjaweed.
In peace we have our meetings.
When violence comes to the neighborhood the hierarchy of
      communicants will hold or fold
it is then the peace work proves relevant.
Hold your clod of land.
Give way to the waves.
All I do not know.
I admire the writer who penetrates the unknown by describing that
      which
is not himself.
His enemy,
anyone who wants to fight him all the time
helps him live outside himself.
"Soon I will know who I am." --Borges

www.ronnowpoetry.com
Busy,
no time to think, just work, progress, complete.
No room for thought.

So stop,
just think about what you're doing
not what you're doing
but what you're REALLY doing.
Don't you realize?

Wonder a moment,
how you work, how you speak, how you eat.
How does it work? DNA, it codes for proteins
it makes enzymes, that aid in reactions
that make you move, speak, think
You didn't even realize.

Amazing,
that's what we are. The potential in us is
ASTOUNDING
we are powered by tiny cells, with tinier things going on
but it's so small, we often forget how big it really is.
Cool eh?

Busy?
so stop, and just wonder a moment.
Isn't it amazing when you think about it?
The way you work, the way you move?

Now get busy.
JP Jan 2016
Once
the music
was nothing
but an enzymes
in our brain
that runs freshness..Rejuvenate
that runs to
put out fire.. Anger
that runs our
dream boat floats.. Creativity
that stimulate…Romance
the
evolution dried
that enzymes..
........
Now
when I
hear her voice
feel
the nostalgic..
It harassed free fall, it was affected by the friction force in the absence of the tefillah, the walls became more taxed and accelerated with gravity that exceeded the acceleration of time, gravity triggered the rest that was in the outside walls and made different kilometers apart, with the free fall at more than 9.8 km per second. Beneath the ground the dimension was made lower than the intake embankment, creating placements in revealing swaps in the solar position, for anyone trying to level the force of fall and its acceleration versus gravity around bodies that were moving accelerated and scattered. The earth constantly hurried its mass to preponderate and go where something or someone could rescue it, the air was inked with an offer in the cases of the imprisoned airs, which from the graves adjoining the valley of Kedron kidnapped its areas of lavender physiognomies to link it to the mantles of the Tallit, which in some cases arose with thousands of souls from their graves, to receive the cushioned rubble between which they were electro-magnetized with the blankets, and the wiring they generated, conceiving that they would gather them in the naive and demiurgical plates, for the holistic retransmission of the tract to Patmos, starting from the Cyclades all the way to the Dodecanese.

The sensitive ex-karst plates of Patmos trembled through the passageways of the Cyclades, which permeated in a ratio of the first reflection in the distance vision that approached between both physical episodes, but the second axis of reflection was made aware in an unknown perspective close to the underwater elevation of the Profitis Ilias, close to the entrance sinkhole, between the variables of the inter plates that were assigned to the reflective tapes of the Beit Hamikdash that mutated to the Megaron Áullos Kósmos. Here the omega will resume a minimum of constant forces, emphasizing the friction that bellowed by the hands of the pro-zealots who had left those sarcophagi in the Kidron Valley, in the average anchor values of the great leaks of the friction with the falling water by millions from the inexorable wind that aided the indivisible objects in the Kidron valley ratio, as a reflection of free fall hitting the friction between the Bern Olives, with torrential rains that were made periodic for an esplanade near Mount Scopus. This seat suffered from the force of friction in the fall of the wall, appreciating the burials that were and will be the reactionary phases of the Hellenistic degree. Objects faded to the state of rest and gravity that cavorted through the valleys, replicating distances more than periods of Elijah in the Judah desert itself and in the Dead Sea. From the depth of the valley, aqueous elements emerged with the proportional speed of the falls of the material and immaterial bodies, outlining the second Newtonian law, as the holy water submerged into the flow of the super-atomized savory, which was reconverted into the same Beit Hamikdash, to materialize in the submerged and hidden effects of the pagan force, hinting at the analogy of the equinoctial of the Dyticá that pushed the wave of the Kaitelka whale, in the constant of speed, tensing the force of the rocks that never stopped moving until his body igneous was quintupled in the fifth dimension beyond the consciousness of those who do not understand immaterial physical abstraction, in fractional microseconds.

The density of the rain filter that had been volumized from the submerged interstices, created the gravity of the horizontal movement that subdued the equation in kinetics that gave the differential in the unresolved expectation of the cessation of movement. Where the amount of reaction is more than what would go to Patmos, disproportionate to the macro pulleys that oscillated in the meridians, speed, and acceleration. Prior to the decoupling of the forces of fall in the already submerged bodies that were counterbalanced to give rise to the volume cords that detached from the largest chamber of the wall, to record the final sequence of wear generated by the reconversion and balance points of their masses, then the starting pedestal accumulates and is reconnected with this phenomenon of the Invisible Eclectic Portal of Patmos, being aware that they would have to enter the cavern, after having ceased their work for this mass retransmission of the reinverted wall to propel the Megaron uprising. Within three months after the Hellenistic Full Moon, the colors of the Tefilah will become mathematical, fascinating the spiritual intensity that inspired Saint John to build the temple near his cave of the Apocalypse on the reef of Patmos. The sanctity will count the astragali in front of the cyclamen for the delicate advances, wearing the blue-green of the quadrinomial that represented geodesy in its points of order and of its evangelist faction. Confusions were overwhelmed not to stop the movements of splendor in the effusions of the storms in sacred prayers in the room, which takes refuge from Kímolos bringing the souls of Helenikká, for the offices that made the trend of Katapausis after the subsequent full moon. Discounting the three months that never elapsed since Vernarth arrived on the Eurydice.


Kaitelka and the judgment of her abode would determine the corpus and the psyche of the irascible necromances of Borker and Leiak, subordinated to Zefian so that the torrential rains on Patmos are perceived by the colder of condensed water of Cassandra that Beit Hamikdash had been bringing with two anthropomorphic shadows that had been supporting him, that of a Cohen, Levita and a Samaritan, they were the guardians that came from Jerusalem to Patmos to assimilate the enthronement spectrum of free fall converted into free ascent were the fourth arrow that spectrum for the first column to be erected. The breath of all of them became more entropic each time that would be concentrated in a certain haze that was released by its titanic whale snout; Rather, I say of her presence that she was raised by some larvae, which came from certain Zeus dresses that he had expelled to free the larvae that were from her immortal garb, looking like bait for those who stalked him with necromancy. . But this time he would be very contemplative for the construction of the Megaron de Vernarth, because amphitheater was a cause of low politics for his Olympic spectrum. The energy or Evegeia, was primed for objects that took forms of papyri covered with invisible enzymes tried from Qumram, but the cause of Mortis revived the larvae making the oblivion of the era that continued after the Mortis of all legions multiplied by the phrases that were sinister from the true matter of physical remanence.
Helleniká Souls
OnwardFlame Dec 2018
Fruits and enzymes nestle there
Toppled with a layer of blueberry syrup
Maybe some Jalapeño covered jams
1-2-3-4-1-2-3-4
It's like a never ending twirl
Ironed out white silk
A broken veil upon my head
I'm the invisible one.

When I speak and think on the life
I was born into
I see it whistle among the bark
Where insects with fairytale like wings surrender.

I stroke your face when I see you
Because I don't know how long I'll get to
And the arrogant side of me
Thinks I wanna be special and nourish you
In all the ways the ones before didn't.

Tokyo gleams from far away
With strobe lights sliding to and from
Neon ecstatic hibernating in a bright place
Harajuku girls echo from the window sill
Of every building I enter and exit
We enter and exit.

It's true
That I just need a little bit of cherishing
Words of affirmation from you
Just everyday
It's true
That I need solid communication
It's true
That in the tango we dance
Side by side
I share, a well of flies surrounding my honey ***
Your honeycomb
I'm oozing flavors of sensuality
But I buzz the loudest for you.

It's almost really frustrating
Because I've got the snouts and mouthes
Of men around me
But yet I still reach the hardest for you.

I know you must see
That I buzz among them
When I need to feel freedom.

My words, watch them now
No ugliness meant
But somewhere in the light
I visualize and green and blue
Hitting your face the morning you held me
And said so closely to my eyes
"Next time, and then next time after that"
Tumbling in and out, I could have sat up
Straight into the sunlight
You came in like a hurricane
And I've always identified with hurricanes.

Something about home
Maybe it's in the way that every little interaction
With the past
Or my brothers and I bickering
Because there is an acute loss in our hearts
We have to leap over
Like the peacocks and chickens
We watched move and glide all around us
Today.

I was taking off on a big plane this time last year
I fell in love and almost got killed while I was there
Late in the graffiti, the rain pouring loudly all around me
I've never known such self-possession
I've never known such trust in strangers
And in moments it swung like a pendulum
Right or left
In the rain drenched streets of Vienna
Where I loved myself.

My love for myself has felt drained lately
Sometimes I think I'm such a self-important *****
Standing in glitter and gold
Holding a microphone
There she is: The Little Southern Girl That Could.

It's in the heat of that self loathing
That sometimes I dream up the best worlds.

I have to get ready now baby.
Butter my lips, my thighs
To sit and feign a smile all night
And watch my father
Walk the other way
At the end of the night.

I fear betrayal
Abandonment I've gotten to know well
And I know you lie awake late into the night
Buzzing, buzzing the loudest
I see you and have gotten to where I can sense
How your spirit contemplates
Or rests on it's side
I never want to be demanding, selfish
I text back
But the truth is,
I am.

I am all of those things
Selfless, incredibly generous
And sometimes I just want and need
Words of love
Looks from your eyes
And I think
We are chipping away at all this work
This relationship we have
And I spin away from my own reflection.

The truth is--
I've got the words tattooed to the inside of my arm
And I hope some time
You'll stop and take the time to read it
Without me even noticing.

I think perhaps you know it well
But is in the words I write
That I think and hope
I get to show you a piece of myself
I otherwise may--
Could not.
And that's why I always long for words back
From you
Because I need to see the naked parts
The selfless, incredibly generous
Selfish
Parts of you too.

But lastly,
In this mound of letters I brought you
I wanna say that I'm glad
That for whatever reason
You stand strong
And intrigued
To twirl right with me
Even if my veil is broken.
Kunal Kar Jan 2016
A deluge of earthly sins,
A waterspout on green leaves,
A hurricane among lull seas,
An equanimity of autumnal eves.
A dilated tale of mundane me.
A million abstruse blocks of C of Co²
A walker among you and me.
A wanderer lost in blue.
Attired by crimson lust of artistry.

A masquerade brew of red wine and dark coffee,
A stark blithe of sanguine comatose,
All drunk and clinging to the thin threads of this unstaged life,
All murdered by the sinical overdose.
The seascape choirs of ocean waves,
Embracing the narcoleptic yellow shorelines,
And evanescent castles
And sail headwind with a mystical concubine.

The iced conundrums of this lost forsaken echoes of winter breeze,
The insanity measured in ones & zeroes,
We're the kings of this deadbeat time,
And praised victories of unsung heroes.
The wanderlust sailors drank the skies,
In mixed cocktails,
And thy heavens sang to this night,
As a melodic madness of wild gales.

Her pale white body declares some love due,
As our lips bled rapture,
And rose a melodramatic cue,
Like words of a closing chapter.
Charged with the flow of adrenal enzymes,
A surrogate from affinity to serendipity,
For in flashback of these forlorn events,
I write this epiphany.

And though these letters are on fire,
And bestowed the bullets over armored heart,
For life exists in the heartache symphonies,
Like a stratagem cliché of painted art.
Call your unfurled knots of wrecked sanity.
A wildfire has gone wild within,
The eloquence thirst of your red lips,
Inked the words of love on this skin.

An audacious lover of seafaring,
Beside the starry onset of a beautiful dawn,
A tide of marvelous mystery,
Whose side are you on?
Its all fiction served with tea,
And through warm sips of this worthy minute,
Change is tempted to render seeds,
That swam through wind, till it escapes and wanders the infinite.
CANCER IS A VITAMIN-DEFICIENCY DISEASE: HOW TO CURE IT: DO NOT SUBMIT TO RADIO- & CRYO-ABLATIVE & CHEMO- “THERAPIES” — TAKE PANCREATIC ENZYMES — AVOID CERTAIN FOODS & HABITS — TAKE VITAMIN B17 (1 to 6 grams daily on a full stomach) AND THE VITAMINS LISTED BELOW — EAT THE CARCINOLYTIC FOODS LISTED BELOW — “Therapeutic” radiation, in any amount, harms living tissue. (Röntgen rays, electromagnetic radiation, x-rays, x-radiation, ionizing radiation, corpuscular radiation can be implemented for diagnostic purposes, but never for therapeutic benefit.) Chemo- “therapy” poisons healthy tissue [necrocytotoxin – a toxin that produces death of cells]. Of the 4 protocols in traditional (allopathic) cancer “therapy”: surgery (cutting), radiation (burning), cryo-ablation/cryosurgery (hypothermia) & chemo/chemical/chemicocautery (poisoning/toxifying), only manual surgery possesses some legitimacy when malignant (cancerous) growth has reached a certain stage. It is far better to avoid cancer than to treat it. Cancer is the body's inability to stop the process of healing, the same natural process in producing a placenta (that one pound ***** attached to the uterine membrane which serves to nourish a developing baby). The essential anti-cancer (tumoricidal) vitamin is VITAMIN B17 (known as Amygdalin, and as Laetrile when synthesized from apricot pips). If you have cancer you must greatly reduce, or avoid: caffeine, tobacco, red meat, alcohol, corn syrup, cane sugar, tomato products. [U.S. cancer rates: the year 1900 : 3%; 1950 : 20%; 1972 : 27%; 1999 : 39%; by 2020 : 50%]

VITAMIN B17 is abundant in these foods: the seeds of apples, loquats, pears, pumpkins, watermelons; as well as in apricot kernels, bamboo shoots, barley grass (research: Dr. Yoshihide Hagiwara) & wheat grass, beet tops, bitter almond, blackberries, boysenberries, brewers yeast, brown rice, buckwheat, cashews, cherry kernels, cranberries, currants, eucalyptus leaves, fava beans, flax seeds, garbanzo beans, gooseberries, guyabano, huckleberries, lentils, lima beans, linseed meat, loganberries, macadamia nuts, millet, millet seed, peach kernels, pecans, plum kernels, pokeberries, prickly ash bark, quince, raspberries, sorghum cane syrup, spinach, sprouts, tapioca (manioc), vetches and watercress. A person whose diet is deficient in these nitrilosidic foods (those foods rich in Amygdalin, the substance of which the molecularity is 1 part: the natural analgesic benzaldehyde, 1 part: hydrogen cyanide, 2 parts: glucose) is incapable of stopping the over-production of healing cells thus this person has cancer. To aid the pancreas a patient should take pancreatic enzymes & eat fresh pineapple and papaya. Supplement your diet with the nutrients (of which 95% of Americans are chronically deficient) that compliment Laetrile (vitamin B17): ① zinc (which is the transport mechanism for Laetrile/vitamin B17) ② vitamin C (build up to 6 grams a day) ③ manganese ④ magnesium ⑤ selenium ⑥ vitamins B6, B9 & B12 ⑦ vitamin A ⑧ vitamin E (at least 2,000 I.U.) A cheap, over-the-counter, *****-analysis pregnancy test is accurate in 92% of cases at detecting cancerous cell activity in the body. Men & women can test for cancer upon rising with a pregnancy test as cancer and pre-embryonic cells are virtually indistinguishable (in functionality) from cells designated as: adenocarcinomal, adenocarcinomic, adenocarcinomical, ameboid, amniotic, amniotical, anaplastic, anaplastical, angiogenetic, angiogenetical, angiogenic, angiogenical, angiosarcomal, astrocytomal, astrocytomic, atypical, basal, basaltic, blastocystic, cacoethic, cancerial, cancerian, cancerigenic, cancerigenical, cancerillic, canceritic, cancerogenic, cancerogenical, cancroidal, cancerophilic, cankerous, carcinoembryonic, carcinoembryonical, carcinogenic, carcinogenical, carcinoidal, carcinomal, carcinomatoid, carcinomatous, carcinomic, carcinosarcomal, cholangiocarcinomal, chondrosarcomal, chordomal, dedifferentiated, desmoistic, desmoplastic, desmoplastical, dyscrasial, dysgerminomal, dysgerminomic, dysplastic, dysplastical, embryonal, embryonic, embryonical, endometrial, endophytic, epithelial, epitheliomatous, endophytic, exophytic, extra-embryonic, fetational, fetoplacental, fetoplacentic, foetational, fibroblastic, germinogenic, gestational, glioblastomal, histometaplastic, Hürthle, hypermutable, hypermutagenic, leiomyosarcomal, leukemial, leucaemicus, leukaemic, leukaemical, leukemic, leukemical, leukocythemic, leukocytomic, liposarcomal, lymphomal, lymphomic, macroglobulinemiac, malignant, malignantal, malignantic, malignus, medulloblastomal, melanocytic, melanomatous, melanotic, metastatic, metastatical, Müllerian, mutagenic, mutagenical, mutated, mutational, mycoplasmal, mycoplasmic, myelodysplastic, myelodysplastical, myelomal, myelomatoid, myelomonocytic, myelomonocytical, myeloproliferative, myxoid, myxoidic, necrogenic, necrogenous, neo-blastic, neo-embryonic, neo-fetal, neo-formative, neo-genetic, neo-genetical, neo-plasiac, neo-plasmatic, neo-plasmatical, neo-plasmical, neo-plasmic, neo-plastic, neo-plastigenic, nephroblastomal, neurofibrosarcomal, odontogenic, oncogenic, oncologic, oncological, osteosarcomal, paramalignant, paraneoplasmic, paraneoplastic, paraneoplastical, pathogenetic, pathogenetical, pathogenic, pathogenical, placental, placentational, pleiomorphic, pleomorphic, polycythemial, polymorphic, polymorphical, pluripotent, pre-cancerous, pre-embryonal, pre-leukemic, promyelocytic, promyelocytical, proto-embryonic, proto-leukemic, pre-squamous, pre-tumorous, proto-oncogenetic (gene), proto-tumorous, pseudocystical, quasi-neoplastic, sarcoidal, sarcomal, sarcomatous, seminomal, squamous, toxicogenic, toxicogenomic, trophic, trophical, trophoblastic, trophoblastical, trophoplasmatic, trophoplasmic, tumefactive, tumefied, tumid, tumidus, tumoral, tumorigenic, tumorigenical, tumorlike, tumorous, tumoural, tumourous. Watch (available on You-Tube) G. Edward Griffin's "World Without Cancer."

IN BRIEF Concerning Cancer: 1. Take a pregnancy test just after waking up. For men a positive result means either cancer or a false positive. Take another test the next day. If a man gets 3 positive results then likely he has cancer somewhere. For women a positive result means (if she's able to become pregnant) she's pregnant or she has cancer, or she's pregnant and she has cancer, or a false positive (the test result is wrong). 2. Several positive pregnancy test results = cancer. What next? STOP eating red meat, sugar, corn syrup. STOP drinking *****. STOP (or at least cut back on) smoking. 3. Eat fresh pineapple & papaya. Take vitamin B17 (at least 1 gram daily) and wheat grass and/or barley grass liquid or capsules (they're rich in vitamin B17), on a full stomach daily (you can't overdose on them ~ they're not poisonous). Take a zinc supplement. Take pancreatic enzymes. REVIEW: TAKE pregnancy tests to detect cancer. TAKE vitamin B17 (and as many of the listed vitamins as you can, especially zinc). Eat fresh pineapple & papaya. STOP eating red meat & cane sugar. It will take several weeks on B17 therapy to turn out negative pregnancy test results. The tumor WILL NOT shrink much even after the cancer is gone because only 10% of the tumor was cancer. The tumor MAY swell temporarily as the vitamin B17 kills malignant cells. NOTE: Vitamin B17 therapy WILL NOT destroy the tumor! Vitamin B17 therapy will destroy the malignant cells (cancerous cells) of the tumor and within the tumor. Only 5% to 10% of the cells comprising a tumor are cancerous cells. In time the tumorous growth will be absorbed, in whole or in part. Unless the tumor is cosmetically displeasing, impinging nerves or blood vessels or hampering normal ****** function then let it be.

The life expectancy for American medical doctors is 58 years.
The life expectancy for Haitian voodoo witch doctors is 62.7 years.

WEB: Dr. Dean Burk (March 21, 1904 – October 6, 1988), head of the Cytochemistry section of the National Cancer Institute has reported that in a series of tests on animal tissue, the B-17 had no effect, but released so much cyanide and Benzaldehyde when it came in contact with cancer cells that not one of them could survive. He said, ”When we add Laetrile to a cancer culture under the microscope, we see the cancer cells dying off like flies.”
Jeremy Duff Nov 2012
Time and Distance was always the recipe for disaster.
These two little words can move mountains of hate. Merely shove them aside.
They can do the same to love. Brush it off like a father will when his kids plead for him to at least look at the menu on the ice cream truck.

Love does not fade as easily as we all wish it could. As you and I wish it would.
Love is a tender flower that needs to be nurtured and be kept in a well lit, well watered garden.

Hate does not fade as easily as we all wish it could. As you and I wish it would.
Hate is a brutal **** that will grow in any garden. It will strangle love of the nutrients that so rightfully belong to it; the tender flower.

Time is a killer, a stone cold killer. It some how manages to find love and destroy it. Time is the Antichrist.
One thinks they can conquer it, when indeed, they cannot.

Distance is an enzyme. Much like the ones found in the human stomach. As everyone knows enzymes are reaction specific. They can only help in one chemical reaction, one minute, tiny reaction.
One thinks they can subdue distance, make it their friend, when indeed, they cannot.
pin Apr 2015
Detox needed, salt enzymes, mother Apple cannot purge
Somewhere under the soul is hidden
Deep heavy air, speleothem drips, blind salamanders fish
White light is in the mind, refresh, delete, refresh
Delete
Hardrive needing replaced, mother board comes on like a crippled play thing
Eve is there, canines sunk in the mother apple
Pages sunk in
Sun's of God
Has now refurbished and has now encoded for the next restructure
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
ich wollen ein iranischherz herauf Nörden.

or simply Njørden - often the j is a softening pronunciation -
i want an Iranian heart up north -
that's what is says - imagine why he lashed out
with the words *sheisse ausländer
-
miniature form of Dostoyevsky -
at 18 he was confused - his father probably
heard the words... hearing that he lashed out...
this is the proof of the power of commandments -
take one to extreme, and all the others seems
permitted - honour your parents -
he didn't shout out allah'u akbar - he did
a little maxim veto - as said unto me one,
may these bullets turn into revisited tongues -
the west has no concern for poetry -
i wouldn't make Iran an enemy,
after all... they're the ones that appreciate poetry...
mm ha ha! so given Iran's flavour for poetics
i can only applaud at their sensibility -
i too was once duped into thinking that watching
a movie i might lie to a girl and ****** her -
poetry is dead in the west... i don't write
for the west, i write from the west, which doesn't
mean i respect the west -
thanks to feminism we're cruising into
an affair of what feminists don't anticipate:
the impracticality of old age creeping, creeping,
creeping... with large families there are at least
chances of a benevolent child who might care for
his parents - in the west with surrogate foetal-things
it's hardly a bouquet of flowers sitting pretty on
a table - the problem are already waiting...
thank **** if you're rich... if you're poor?
well... hmm what a Disneyland awaits you -
**** stained and **** smeared dying for your idea
like any Communist might; well, i'm not going to
help you... ask Oxfam while the money you donated
ensured that only a penny reached the poor poor
Africans and why 99 pence reached the bureaucracy
of keeping a charity afloat - i know where
i can find fresh water... you have to cross a barbwire
fence, feed 10 horses 20 sugar cubes and you're
at a little stream of clarity... then you do the vegan
diet and sorta'h waiting for a heart-attack...
or you take a Russian Empire banknote with Tsar
Nicholas II to Switzerland and buy yourself out
with euthanasia... either way, win win.

every ****** time i go back home there's the Krähewolke -
i'm starting to imagine myself as the boy instructed by
Barbarossa to watch for the crows and a second life -
it's a small town, used to be industrious,
life here, there, everywhere, now a town of pensioners -
a European squabbling with a European but ignoring
the massive signs MADE IN CHINA, MADE IN CHINA...
MADE IN CHINA... why you blaming me for what's
going to happen to you too? you think this is the steam-engine
days of industrial revolution? do you have an Instagram
account? no. well... if you aren't going to be a third party
advert unit you're worth jackshit -
but still that Krähewolke of summer, thousands of them
swarm the sky - i'm not saying because i'm there,
i'm saying i'm there dwarfed by such a sight...
krähe die messerschmitt - so poetry is written by
*****-whipped English teachers, or it's the medium of
the weak, it has many voices but it doesn't have a voice,
it needs to be pretty, it needs to be neat, it needs to
have a prosthetic metaphor stashed in a pile of **** flare -
some say it even has to be as coherent as an Ikea
manual for putting a table together, people all of a sudden
trash the calculator and attempt mental arithmetic in
terms of reading... what... a... load... of... crock-****...
hyphen... mm... the Germans knew the immigrant Saxons
would speak less and less German and even of lesser
quality than the Turks... the Germans invented chemistry -
the Anglo-Saxons invented hyphenation... but it's so
******* weird that the Englandish outlandish will
hyphenate a word like overt-usage but never include the
hyphen in chemical nouns, like: Hydrochloric acid...
dihydrogen monoxide (yes, the d'uh hoax),
phosphorus pentachloride - what remains of Vater Schwaben
in English is bound to chemistry's language,
where the standard use of hyphen is disallowed -
the German original took on a different optometrist -
the English revision took on yet another (different) optometrist -
the eyes of the English starring at a German word
began to dizzy-up-whirl looking through a kaleidoscope -
the Germans just saw: schieße schrapnell!
achtung! achtung! die wort ist die fondant...
mm... gobble gobble gobble - pristine smile of sharpened
teeth in a smile! klebrigzähne sprechen sehr kleine-eine-miner.
well... if you're going to write a Monty Pi Ten you might
as well desecrate a foreign language with the grammar of
the one acquired - very much interested in how grammar
is reflected by Arabic left-to-right, English right-to-left
German right-to-left,but Latin left-to-right - all the genus
names - **** sapiens: rational man - or the up-kept
(******* ***** -φρεν - alt.  hi-yo in Beijing) desire for:
the instilled continuance of the rationalising man...
rationalise this! knuckle dusters down the East End -
gotta be a **** before you can be a Cockney Wiseguy -
say ooh la la say soo - bud weiss err - say ooh la la say soo -
amphetamine George says: ethanol Scottish Gaelic means:
twins sedative and un-inhibitor - talk of Enzymes -
south and shoo, north and nothing, east and extra territory,
west and **** / Vancouver - van coup verily ******
voulez-vous volleyball aha! write poetry like a dictionary
entry - spandex, annex, fly-flex - it can really become
a tennis match after a while:
   roses are   red
                   violets are blue
             i'm so in love with everything that's dead
    that i decided to call the past the necessary glue.
an article by Bryan Applied concerning poetry -
and why all poetic hearts are bound for Iran -
karaoke the current trend in the west for one -
living at a time when cooking books sell,
and plagiarism is celebrated more than any awkward
originality, but everyone still owns microwaves
and opts for ready-meals -
the rewards of old age aren't there because families
have become atomic based on individuals -
oh right? the article, it's long, ****** me off -
"we turn to poetry in times of need, but can it really
help? and why doesn't it sell more copies?"
ah the selling questions, i forgot a capitalist thinks
of poems like hamburgers...
i'll put in a bracketed word pending in the title and give
you a brief overview of the article...

*** and whiskey interlude

i don't write poetry... what i do do is **** poetry;
why do fellow artists hate poetry?
poetry in the hands of the old and young
thinks itself ******-like, the one art form that
says no to violence, no to intolerance,
no to drastic actions of revision -
keeping the Shakespearean sonnet won't do the art
any favours, it's the art too easily accessible,
because anyone can apparently write it
as long as they get a clue than a rhyme is necessary -
alternating rhymes are not that important,
i asked for a steak tartar, instead i got
plated a shepherds' pie - i asked for raw,
all i got for nanny picked and donning diapers -
poetry is best suited for that dynamo of reaction
known to internet trolls - trolls should overpower
writing poetry, they're intelligent enough, and
democratic too - cold-stone-heartless *******
should pick up these floral arrangements and
do an iron maiden make-over with them...
poems should be torture instruments,
they should never be treated as floral arrangements...
i don't like weakness, neither does nature -
when i walk into the museum of poetry
i don't want to see avant-garde art, i want to see torture,
they really did underestimate the vis poetica -
when i read poetry i want torture, i don't need
safety pins, straitjackets and other torturous
instruments of conformity - but from what i'm seeing
that's all i'm getting - ask any man why the construction
industry is ******* - women on site, women in the
army - feminism has infiltrated sacred sites of
manly brotherhood... you don't see a man stroll into
the fashion industry... well... unless he's a ****** -
a Grimm Brother's tale: once upon a time...
you could listen to a radio on a building site...
then women came in... we only heard symphonies of
hammer and drill... that alone made us deaf...
sure... we worked dangerously, we died more often...
BUT THE THRILL! **** *** bye bye... go on, wave at it...
it's like Titanic's maiden voyage... it's not coming back!
feminism's ugly head should have shoved itself once
more under a horse's galloping hoofs - a few times -
it played with the brotherhood of man - we're no longer
men, we're insurance policies, safety nets,
no wonder the Jihadis are fighting for our libidos -
cos i honestly think they are... they want us to feel the Mojo
once more from the frivolous spirit of the 1960s liberation
that only became slavery of the fake sinner -
**** it... applause gentlemen! applause! thank **** for
me donning *******, i'd be a real loser if i had to hand it
to myself without it... these days it's called the ******* -
the monk's sheaf of chastity - reduce a man to a *****
and you reduce a father to alimony cheques.
what?! ain't that true? i told you, **** poetry, don't
bother writing it, **** that pacified ***** into obedience -
you own it... without you you'd still be crying about
what shame it is that a nation that produced Shakespeare
undermines poets while keeping this old **** ticking
all the boxes of worthwhile inspection... i wish i was
the 20th century example of when poetry had some respect...
at any other time more so in the 20th century -
but we missed that train... shame for us to have inherited
such a past and the internet - so if not so keen on poetry
why Shakespeare the celebratory idol? twilight Sir
****-a-lot is coming - or so i hope.
so this article, citations:
a. Wordsworth 'thoughts that do often lie too deep for
     tears',
b. poetry is the language of crisis,
c. poetry as peak experience constructed from
    the shabby, battered bricks of verbiage
    (otherwise known as talk with a mouthful
      of spaghetti),
d. TS Eliot: 'purifying the dialect of the tribe'
     (too many dialects to make up a tribe, to be honest),
e. funerals in particular are what's called
    poetic crashing the scene, every subject,
    every opportunity, you'd never call a poet a
    polymath,
f. the healing power of poetry... the healing power?
    i never signed up to take a Hippocratic oath!
g. a permanent record of failure... or the allure of a permanent
     record of ridicule by others, so the minor success was
     there too - as in a boy buys a kettle
     is a success story, but a boy writes a poem is a failure -
     is that vocabulary as commodity without
     a handkerchief?
h.
              a sense of abandonment looms...
              the obnoxiousness of this article is all too apparent,
      i rather be headbanging to some ***** M: Ra Ra Rhas Putin -
(even surds deserve a bit of love) -
i might finish the citation of the article... but then again
i might as well cut it short - inc. in the Culture Section
of the Sunday Times, Bryan Appleyard -
people resent poetry for stealing what comes naturally -
really? so i'm a thief? a lot of people don't invest in
vocabulary - they convene to invest in flimsy investments
of slang - after graduation from being teenagers the investment
in **** suddenly disappears - grown-up vocabulary takes
over, comprehensive English, not slang English...
people don't acquire naturally (i.e. easily without discomfort),
if i were to complain to the people for treating me
as a thief rather than a poet i'd ask them to teach me to
do crosswords... a pain-in-the-***... i can't do them!
so i guess that if you're able to do crosswords you can't
write poetry, or give poetry a freedom away from all those
dusty technicalities / identifiers as such -
for poetry doesn't make anything happen
(WH Auden), it probably doesn't, but if you choose a boring
life, a lot happens... 11/15 is the feminist ratio of poetry's
Forward prizes in the genre - k k, a fraction - 11:15 -
new testament? or the old's citation? yeah... why do they
cite the bible like making bets at the bookies?
Gospel of St. Luke 15 to 1? they're betting on the 4 Henchmen
of the Apocalypse - gambling even in the testaments.
performance poetry seldom stands up on the page -
yeah, wheelchair bound, or in pop culture lyricism -
that competition between R.E.M.'s man on the moon
(yeah yeah yeah yeah), and Nirvana's smells like teen spirit,
hello hello hello 'ola! (later the yeah yeah hitchhiker's story);
did i tell you i got barred from a pub in Collier Row for
speaking poetically? a ****-hole of a pub anyway,
walked in with a pair of dolphin flippers and a shark
fin, spoke some words, made a few friends over grapefruit
ale - then a few days later got barred, because i apparently
"threw a pint glass across the room"; that's me booked
for the Cheltenham Book festival for sure... right next to
the cookbook aisle where people will be expecting to make
humble pie and cider squint tarts.
Still Crazy Nov 2014
run the hands over every
tissued cell,
race the tongue upon and under every
unsealed pore

linger, tarry,
only if you must,
here, there and where
you stop only to drink
my body's must...

lid to lobe,
crevice to mound,
uncover the obvious,
reveal the infinitesimal,
finite the desire,
end at the beginning,
fire up the cool hearth,
emblazon the shields ofordinary,
exit and enter
simultaneously

refill the apertures
with~not~my
peptones, enzymes, amino acids,
replenish my
well

then drain
well
the abscesses and repair
the wearable wounds ,
reminder remains
of prior contests,
won and lost

make me better
than well

know before,
realize afterwards
that ceasing,
never and always,
is an always never*

for this route
forever changing,
for your hands and tongue
redraw me
every time
they run the course

every time,
ever and when you
exit and enter
always and ever
simultaneous,
the course of
my flesh
11-1-14
Vassana M Nov 2012
And like LSD in the spine,
small parts of you will sleep forever
in the back of my bones,
in my little ligaments,
my feral fluids.

Because you are such an ambrosial mix of chemicals
floating along side this vessel in space
and I'd enjoy it ever so much
if you melted and overtook me with your enzymes
so that
we
could be
one.
Aaron Case Aug 2011
We are the fleshy pit of a wooden fruit that remains lodged
inside the esophagus of a nameless office building,
too historic for corporate enzymes to break down,
too fibrous for second grade impatients to digest.

Pass me your torch—I’m getting blackened today.

Remember when we took our undressed crayons
and grazed them across white paper
over the embossed plaque outside
and the story of this place
spelled out before our very eyes?
And our very eyes, how they widened.
Yes, you do.
Yours was red, and mine was blue.

Remember when you spelled SALSA wrong at the spelling bee,
and the whole cafetorium began to hiss and judge
as the judge bellowed the L-est L ever to be L-ed,
and your ankles were too rusted from embarrassment to get away,
and away you went,
and I called you Mr. Sasla for weeks?
Of course you do.
You were ten, and I was, too.

How after that we ran away like bandits to this place on South Main,
and we picked and we plucked at the locks,
and scratched away at the ashy continents on the walls,
etching oaken paintings of our names married to profanities
even though we didn’t know the meanings
that made them so profane?
I know you do.
You wrote ****—I wrote *******.

And that time when you tried to kiss me
in the corner by the condemned yellow jacket nests
that sagged like hard candy on the splintered walls,
but your empty lips tumbled into the tentacles of a cobweb,
and the moment snuck away
with the stagnant smell of mesquite and adolescence?
Ha! Look at you!
You were laughing—I was, too.

And remember when you got your braces off
and I just about cried because I hadn’t seen your teeth
in days—in weeks?—in months?—in years?—
and through the snaggled gate of your cuspid
and incisor that no amount of metal would ever fix,
the medicated steam slipped, and spilled like milk?
That was last June.
We sat right here, where were you?

And that night when the fugue of sirens tugged at our ears
and we frantically clogged the seams
where the light seeped through with our socks
and our shirts, try try trying to keep the haze from sneaking out—
only to find it wasn’t us they were after, it was the
bank robber next door—and we swore to never come here again?
Our faces changed, too.
Yours was red, and mine was blue.

Yet, our torch melts to ash, and we become blazed as one.

We are here, reclined against rusty limestone as smoke
forms above our skulls like question marks, as red rivers
meander closer to our pupils, as the taste of our memory becomes
too salty to swallow, yet too sweet not to taste just one more time.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2017
my cat loves watching cigarette smoke
in the night,
while i love watching clouds,
but what consecrated us
      within a similitude
was:
   being brought into this world,
finding humanity, fast asleep,
   if not in the least: lost to sleep,
as if they were beyond medical
attention, comparing dreams
   to automations of imagination,
imagination become rampant;
for why would dreams be a mystery,
is they are only un-inhibited
representations of imagination?
why do dreams deserve a respect
to be treated as something mysterious,
when they are nothing but robotic
forms of imagination?
   robotic? yes, in terms of being
lawless...
    beyond conscious control...
there is nothing mythical, nothing
freud-orthodox about them...
       they are rampant imaginings
that never tread the path toward
fruition... it's not that they are
repressions...
              they are natural inhibitors
of what day-dreams are...
                            the real inhibitors...
let's talk about enzymes...
there is no worth interpreting dreams,
unless you're poised to craft
a trade with your *******...
           dreams = inhibited imaginings,
infectious, when the mind
is at "rest", posit coordinate 0,
which sleep ought to be...
             a denial of all conscious
activity... dreams are, ergo,
comparable to *******,
   i.e. a self-****...
                             it is better to treat
dreams as an omni-nonsense
   than a labyrinth with a minotaur...
i hate dreams...
           for what's it worth
i also don't believe in the western
diatribe of
   a subject-object dichotomy,
let alone a dualism...
to me dreams are akin to any other
virus infection...
                  esp. when people note
having recurrent dreams...
             i came into this world
and found humanity fast asleep...
  toward not asking,
but nonetheless writing this,
i asked for one "virtue"
and one "virtue" alone...
                 please, bar my infectious
capacity to dream...
          since then,
all my dreams have become nonsense,
for how can i trap light
     and then create a cinema
from exposure to this light,
in my sleep?
                       i appreciate
that i can stare into a light-glorifying
orb, and then see a geometric form
x-rayed onto a blank slate of focus...
but the complexity of dreams...
the narratives...
              there really isn't an
interpretation of dreams,
        to be a disciple of freud...
                      unless you have a lot of
time to waste and be bound to be
looking up your own ****...
                  to me dreams are
            like a sun within a black-hole...
there's light coming from the ultimate
recess...
    dreams are like the rebirth of a star...
light from the most hidden
    darkness,
         that is bound to originate in sleep...
i simply find dreams exhausting,
and too juxtaposed, to find a worthy
narrative, and subsequent interpretation;
at loss, to begin with,
   if ever to begin with,
         should genesis = zenith,
  if not, given the expression
                and regressive attitude
                          it not be: genesis = nadir.
nmo Mar 2017
Some last spams
from those muscles
I haven't used in a while,
makes me feel alive.

My heart,
naive,
believes it can still love
like it used to.
It is just that ****
muscle memory.

Your words hit me.
Hurt me.
But no longer
pierce me.
Short range
now they are.

My denatured  enzymes,
possessed by salt,
just want to drown.

Anything that stops
the aftershocks in my body
that follow the earthquake
our love once was.
HOW TO CURE IT: DO NOT SUBMIT TO RADIO- & CRYO-ABLATIVE & CHEMO- “THERAPIES” — TAKE PANCREATIC ENZYMES — AVOID CERTAIN FOODS & HABITS — TAKE VITAMIN B17 (1 to 6 grams daily on a full stomach) AND THE VITAMINS LISTED BELOW — EAT THE CARCINOLYTIC FOODS LISTED BELOW —

“Therapeutic” radiation, in any amount, harms living tissue. (Röntgen rays, electromagnetic radiation, x-rays, x-radiation, ionizing radiation, corpuscular radiation can be implemented for diagnostic purposes, but never for therapeutic benefit.) Chemo- “therapy” poisons healthy tissue [necrocytotoxin – a toxin that produces death of cells]. Of the 4 protocols in traditional (allopathic) cancer “therapy”: surgery (cutting), radiation (burning), cryo-ablation/cryosurgery (hypothermia) & chemo/chemical/chemicocautery (poisoning/toxifying), only manual surgery possesses some legitimacy when malignant (cancerous) growth has reached a certain stage. It is far better to avoid cancer than to treat it. Cancer is the body's inability to stop the process of healing, the same natural process in producing a placenta (that one pound ***** attached to the uterine membrane which serves to nourish a developing baby). The essential anti-cancer (tumoricidal) vitamin is VITAMIN B17 (known as Amygdalin, and as Laetrile when synthesized from apricot pips). If you have cancer you must greatly reduce, or avoid: caffeine, tobacco, red meat, alcohol, corn syrup, cane sugar, tomato products. [U.S. cancer rates: the year 1900 : 3%; 1950 : 20%; 1972 : 27%; 1999 : 39%; by 2020 : 50%]

VITAMIN B17 is abundant in these foods: the seeds of apples, loquats, pears, pumpkins, watermelons; as well as in apricot kernels, bamboo shoots, barley grass (research: Dr. Yoshihide Hagiwara) & wheat grass, beet tops, bitter almond, blackberries, boysenberries, brewers yeast, brown rice, buckwheat, cashews, cherry kernels, cranberries, currants, eucalyptus leaves, fava beans, flax seeds, garbanzo beans, gooseberries, guyabano, huckleberries, lentils, lima beans, linseed meat, loganberries, macadamia nuts, millet, millet seed, peach kernels, pecans, plum kernels, pokeberries, prickly ash bark, quince, raspberries, sorghum cane syrup, spinach, sprouts, tapioca (manioc), vetches and watercress.
   A person whose diet is deficient in these nitrilosidic foods (those foods rich in Amygdalin, the substance of which the molecularity is 1 part: the natural analgesic benzaldehyde, 1 part: hydrogen cyanide, 2 parts: glucose) is incapable of stopping the over-production of healing cells thus this person has cancer. To aid the pancreas a patient should take pancreatic enzymes & eat fresh pineapple and papaya. Supplement your diet with the nutrients (of which 95% of Americans are chronically deficient) that compliment Laetrile (vitamin B17):  ① zinc (which is the transport mechanism for Laetrile/vitamin B17) ② vitamin C (build up to 6 grams a day) ③ manganese ④ magnesium ⑤ selenium ⑥ vitamins B6, B9 & B12 ⑦ vitamin A ⑧ vitamin E (at least 2,000 I.U.)  

A cheap, over-the-counter, *****-analysis pregnancy test is accurate in 92% of cases at detecting cancerous cell activity in the body. Men & women can test for cancer upon rising with a pregnancy test as cancer and pre-embryonic cells are virtually indistinguishable (in functionality) from cells designated as: adenocarcinomal, adenocarcinomic, adenocarcinomical, ameboid, amniotic, amniotical, anaplastic, anaplastical, angiogenetic, angiogenetical, angiogenic, angiogenical, astrocytomal, astrocytomic, atypical, basal, basaltic, blastocystic, cacoethic, cancerial, cancerian, cancerigenic, cancerigenical, cancerillic, canceritic, cancerogenic, cancerogenical, cancroidal, cancerophilic, cankerous, carcinoembryonic, carcinoembryonical, carcinogenic, carcinogenical, carcinoidal, carcinomal, carcinomatoid, carcinomatous, carcinomic, carcinosarcomal, cholangiocarcinomal, chondrosarcomal, chordomal, dedifferentiated, desmoistic, desmoplastic, desmoplastical, dysgerminomal, dysgerminomic, dysplastic, dysplastical, embryonal, embryonic, embryonical, endometrial, endophytic, epithelial, epitheliomatous, endophytic, exophytic, extra-embryonic, fetational, fetoplacental, fetoplacentic, foetational, fibroblastic, gestational, glioblastomal, histometaplastic, Hürthle, hypermutable, hypermutagenic, leiomyosarcomal, leukemial, leucaemicus, leukaemic, leukaemical, leukemic, leukemical, leukocythemic, leukocytomic, liposarcomal, lymphomal, lymphomic, macroglobulinemiac, malignant, malignantal, malignantic, malignus, medulloblastomal, melanocytic, melanomatous, melanotic, metastatic, metastatical, Müllerian, mutagenic, mutagenical, mutated, mutational, mycoplasmal, mycoplasmic, myelodysplastic, myelodysplastical, myelomal, myelomatoid, myelomonocytic, myelomonocytical, myeloproliferative, myxoid, myxoidic, necrogenic, necrogenous, neo-blastic, neo-embryonic, neo-fetal, neo-formative, neo-genetic, neo-genetical, neo-plasiac, neo-plasmatic, neo-plasmatical, neo-plasmical, neo-plasmic, neo-plastic, neo-plastigenic, nephroblastomal, odontogenic, oncogenic, oncologic, oncological, osteosarcomal, paraneoplasmic, paraneoplastic, paraneoplastical, pathogenetic, pathogenetical, pathogenic, pathogenical, placental, placentational, pleiomorphic, pleomorphic, polymorphic, polymorphical, pluripotent, pre-cancerous, pre-embryonal, pre-leukemic, promyelocytic, promyelocytical, proto-embryonic, proto-leukemic, pre-squamous, pre-tumorous, proto-oncogenetic (gene), proto-tumorous, pseudocystical, quasi-neoplastic, sarcoidal, sarcomal, sarcomatous, squamous, toxicogenic, toxicogenomic, trophic, trophical, trophoblastic, trophoblastical, trophoplasmatic, trophoplasmic, tumefactive, tumefied, tumid, tumidus, tumoral, tumorigenic, tumorigenical, tumorlike, tumorous. Watch (available on You-Tube) G. Edward Griffin's "World Without Cancer."

IN BRIEF Concerning Cancer: 1. Take a pregnancy test just after waking up. For men a positive result means either cancer or a false positive. Take another test the next day. If a man gets 3 positive results then likely he has cancer somewhere. For women a positive result means (if she's able to become pregnant) she's pregnant or she has cancer, or she's pregnant and she has cancer, or a false positive (the test result is wrong).

2. Several positive pregnancy test results = cancer. What next? STOP eating red meat, sugar, corn syrup. STOP drinking *****. STOP (or at least cut back on) smoking.

3. Eat fresh pineapple & papaya. Take vitamin B17 (at least 1 gram daily) and wheat grass and/or barley grass liquid or capsules (they're rich in vitamin B17), on a full stomach daily (you can't overdose on them ~ they're not poisonous). Take a zinc supplement. Take pancreatic enzymes.  

REVIEW: TAKE pregnancy tests to detect cancer. TAKE vitamin B17 (and as many of the listed vitamins as you can, especially zinc). Eat fresh pineapple & papaya. STOP eating red meat & cane sugar. It will take several weeks on B17 therapy to turn out negative pregnancy test results. The tumor WILL NOT shrink much even after the cancer is gone because only 10% of the tumor was cancer. The tumor MAY swell temporarily as the vitamin B17 kills malignant cells.

NOTE: Vitamin B17 therapy WILL NOT destroy the tumor! Vitamin B17 therapy will destroy the malignant cells (cancerous cells) of the tumor and within the tumor. Only 5% to 10% of the cells comprising a tumor are cancerous cells. In time the tumorous growth will be absorbed, in whole or in part. Unless the tumor is cosmetically displeasing, impinging nerves or blood vessels or hampering normal ****** function then let it be.

The life expectancy for American medical doctors is 58 years.
The life expectancy for Haitian voodoo witch doctors is 62.7 years.

WEB: Dr. Dean Burk (March 21, 1904 – October 6, 1988), head of the Cytochemistry section of the National Cancer Institute has reported that in a series of tests on animal tissue, the B-17 had no effect, but released so much cyanide and Benzaldehyde when it came in contact with cancer cells that not one of them could survive. He said, ”When we add Laetrile to a cancer culture under the microscope, we see the cancer cells dying off like flies.”
Rebecca Nov 2020
The Queen of Hearts
makes her move,
adrenaline chess
to construe.

The enzymes melt
her painted frown,
with head held high
she adjusts her crown

She remembered who
she once was,
anticipating
breathless pause.

Around the King
her fingers grasp
to set him on
the Bishop's path.

And by her hand
he meets his fate
he is no more
by her, "checkmate".
“Pawns are such fascinating pieces, too...So small, almost insignificant, and yet--they can depose kings." ― Lavie Tidhar, The Bookman

— The End —