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Shaded Lamp Mar 2016
Lost in an unfamiliar home, deep inside a book
In the comforting glow of that lamp that stood...
Standing to attention in that gloomy nook
The words jumbled & spun on that page
So I slammed shut the book

Above me burned a coil of tungsten
Blazing bright
White
And from it
Every angle burst its miracle of light
Beams/ waves destined for far off places
But shackled by the shade
Mocked by the tasselled trim
Harnessed by the braid

My mind wanders...
It is a marvel of our age
That we choose to create lamps so bright that they need a shade
That they need to be shaded
Those lamps can't shine so bright
For without the shade the dark won't creep in and we wouldn't be aware of the night.

I step outside
Into that night
Shadows cast by the city street lights

Down that dank alley
Lives an uncelebrated man
In a tattered box with faded damp
Barely noticed
Camouflaged
To most he's just another jaded *****
If only they could see
He
They
We
Individually tailor the shade for our lamp
Privately (inside translucent shields)  we all burn bright.
Shaded by fear and notions of what's wrong and right
Right and wrong
Wrong and right
Creations of those that had the strength to fight
Not by the humbled, battered and bruised
Too shaded to raise a blazing revolutionary fist
Too fractured, hungry and confused
Afraid of the attention caused from cries for any justice
Instead
Inside my head
I imagine I have my own bed
A good book
An cosy reading chair
And a lamp standing to attention with its thousand-yard stare

Staring out to the ever rising seas

Cometh the great submerging eviction
Mass migrations fleeing war, famine & filthy camps
Oceans rise and tears fall with whispered benediction
How many of you will become degraded tramps
But we just keep insisting that it is farflung fiction
Back to my box and its faded damp

Silhouettes of four impatient horses appear on an windswept horizon.

This false paradise we live in with its twisted ergonomics?
Should we really sit and wait for the catastrophes to appear?
Surely we are collectively able to create a smarter economics?
Or is it just easier continuing to accept living in fear?
Because when all is accounted for
All the pros and cons have been weighed
What matters most
Is not the brightness of your lamp
But your choice of shade.
Revised
Paul of Tarsus resented his visit, among so many issues of paganism and Christianity that somehow tried to establish it in Jewish orthodoxy, for goods in non-Romanesque centuries of centuries, dissimilar to a Roman statute in the past to decree it today as ****-Clerical.

Saint John the Apostle says: “Christian doctrines were limited when they settled in Jerusalem, nor did they submit to worldly Judaism. He preached it while breaking the loaves in the fasmatémporos or sacralized breadbaskets of salvation, and of the company of those who were circumcised, by those who received the kingdom while they were born into Roman *******. Everything was Estebanian obfuscation as the first martyr of the ecclesiastical order, where the universe points between races, society, and sensual possessions; between Greeks as junk between barbarians and uneducated, and Israelites between Jews and pagans, to make capital laws but hidden among the subjugated codes of dictatorialism, like all the slaves, gathered in Corinth. And of female inferiority to male supremacy, without inheriting the flesh in the reconciliation of shared worlds. His policy moves the bellows of the free winds, for an enclave that begins to be a direct belonging of another man with the Alpha, and finally, this ends up being his landowner in Omega, as a fugitive baptismal sprinkling of those who become attached to the lord, that they do not recognize and if they do it under their clothes and thoughts, that they even carry sores or wounds even on their chromosomes. The genotype is the third month of gestation with embryos that can even be heard with their heartbeats beyond all the galaxies back and forth, colliding with the head of the woman who puts order to the established opinion of the extreme polarity of the genome. The coronation sculptures were made diverse with Gothic forms that differed with duplications of the stars that were built, not specified in any quantity of accumulated energy after thousands of years to be released in the channeling of the corbel, where the Cherubs rested. dedicated today to the lordship of the ancestry of the invocation, and the exaltation of the stained glass that descended from the sky with sectioned iridescence, marking the canonical hours of the first century, the beginning of the fifth decade, where Paul was already pointing to the letter to the Romans, "Where you give free grazing to the sheep, the rams overwhelm the density of certainty with their betrayals, the sublimity of the atrial rebound movement, makes their disparate ears warn of the justification of pointing out where the danger grows". In this way, Pablo de Tarso decided to name himself in the middle of Mataki, as Pablo de Patmos, because his soul still depended on the Marial outlet for his canonical lapses, in fact becoming the main and actant incarnation of faith, with the cardinal points.

Goddess Nike appears again to consummate the victory, then from the exhausted stadiums of the Pergamon amphitheater, Wonthelimar will bring Victory with the other "V" of the goddess Nike, also borne by Athenea Nikephoros. From this duplicity, both are transposed into Vernarth's "V" as an initiatory pseudonym; which will depict the reinforced twin of the Hellenic genesis of Wonthelimar, articulating from this Prótypo with the genesis of the cardinal Mandragoron, which will be Vernarthian architectural and divinized hierarchy.

Mandragoron Geodesy

- North: Vóreios (Zefian Boreal)
- South: Nótos (Austral de Borker)
- West: Dyticá (Sunset of Leiak)
- East: Aftó (Equinoctial of Kaitelka)

Faced with this geodesic repositioning, Pablo de Patmos makes the context of narrowing the analogy of the cross and the intersection point of them through, the Zohar Light that emerged from the iconographic program that was spreading out of the Ave Maria that was heard in echo intervals, The main one being the one heard by the oil press that Vernarth was holding, to lavish the first virginal thread of olive oil, which joined with the sleet drizzle falling between the intersecting points of Vóreios from north to south Notós, and from Oeste Dyticá with the Necromancy of Leiak to the Kaitelka Peninsula.

All seated began to pray, then the nascent of the Empyrean that came with the sleet emerged, and the ****** olive grove of the first degree, all went into a trance, the soul was overwhelmed only with light that each one could see in their features through the irradiation of the eyes of Vernarth and Saint John, and in the breathing of each being difficult and discordant. In the distance you could see the sparkles of Peter and James, together with the Mashiach, they came to enter the peace of each one of those who were here in the Katapausis, the night was warned by the Notós de Borker who prayed with the disciples of the Mashiach accompanied by the three winds from the south, which transfigured the colt of Bethany that admitted them to take them to the Seventh Heaven, here at the first stone of the Megaron with the Mataki, the seven bread baskets and candelabra, taken by the agony of the chalice that everyone carried in their bodies where they sprang from their interior, along with the thread of oil mixed with blood that had fled from Zion to Gethsemane, thus lifeless with the interdict stained the lights of the Menorah, which was propelled over the gray and agonizing shadows of the bread that asked why hand would be divided? They all say drink with their hands, but the hands of the Mashiach opened the sky first to illuminate the exacerbation of Leiak's Dyticá, saying that the sweat of agony will fill our chalices intensely adorning what is revealed by our disturbing sleet. The Equinoctial became magenta and Eritrean, where glory made it pertinent to leave and ask for an oblation in the natural reaction of the recipient, before offering himself! The shudders only spoke of the rictus, when Vernarth huddled every so often to blow the embers of the incense that spread from Aorion, spliced in the Fourth Arrow of Zefian, to leave the ergonomics bronze point, pointing out the Cherubs that came from Heaven falling, to those who went up with their sacrilegious bodies to purge their errors, adoring them with purely beatific simplicity, to bring them back to Patmos to purge there, what the error will make of virtue the light over the darkness in lives that stumble over the moaning death, whose sufferings ravage beyond life, where they suffer undaunted pains of danger, not knowing how to resist them.

Frontality becomes ordinal from unity to three, and from duality to four; that is to say, from Vóreios to Notós and from Aftó to Dyticá, making the Escurialense cross with the crossed lines filled with the celestial blue that filled them with the Seventh Heaven. The darkness macerated the embryos on the error of confronted anguish before an impartial body fallen from the discouragement of overcoming it and moving away from the eschatological. The Mashiach moves his hands through the Codices of Raedus pro generating Jubilee, for the branches that climb the thread of the olive tree that was scalding with passion, to hang on the wood of the Kashmar. The Kardiá resembled lost in the minutes of Kairós, failing to rejoice them, to then overwhelm them in some Escurialense demonym, forming the golden cross, whose four arms were already covered by blue and blue enamel, and in parapsychological fractality, making temporality move in the super imagination of Áullos Kósmos de Vernarth.
Seventh Heaven
Dana C Sep 2013
My heels bite the pavement,
the cadence of Monday through Friday;
My shoulders are stressed
In spite of ergonomics.
The strangers who pass me,
eyes glossed with similar fatigue,
beat a shuffling rhythm:
the melody hypnotizes.

That's why I don't notice.
Walking just the same,
a pace not unlike the teller
or the lawyer in front of me.
They speak of a repast,
old haunts, new places,
television and sports.
Another measure, no sign of caesura.

When I find myself unsure,
uncertain of the cool ground beneath,
of the muffled grumblings
and the scrapes on my knees,
it feels like a dream.
“I'll wake up soon, I'm at home.
I've fallen asleep to the T.V.,
a wacky dream bred from the same.”
The breath on my neck is so hot.

Once my head straightens up,
the world once again standing still before me,
the weight against my body multiplies.
The floating sensation of sleep,
The feeling of a shell within a shell,
It dissipates and my insides are knots,
molten lava, churning against its crust
and my skin screams in tune.

The grunting and the pawing,
brusque lips are sinking ships.
There's not enough sandpaper
in the world to compare.
Those heels are dust,
their teeth broken and rotted;
Percussion takes a rest.

I am trapped inside my clothes.
Twisted like a snake around my body,
I want only to be free of them--
in any other situation but.
“Here let me help you with that.”
The words slither, covered in mold.
My every wish in that single moment
Answered, a betrayal; trite axioms abound.

Suddenly the weight lifts, is suspended,
a chance accorded to a plain old girl.
But my limbs are heavy, fear looms,
Justifications swarm my panicked mind.
“Don't be stupid. Give them what they want;
They'll leave you alone. Go to another place.
Return with some piece of mind:
no matter how fractured your body, you heal.”

But there's a light on overhead.
The unmasked man stares lustfully at my lips.
His uncharted groping is fervent, fearless--
his desire to be soon bestowed upon him.
Consequences do not glaze his feverish eyes,
and worry lies dormant, sets off no warnings.
The cage was set, the trap precisely executed
and there's no spoon to help me out of here.
Sept 13, 2009; Portland, OR.
West of a mutilated day, wormwood salts are scattered for some wild-chinned Controllers on a high pinnacle with viva vox in the Mandrake, Vernarth's house of Orion:

Saint John the Apostle says the proverbial Psalm: “In the lofty Cage, Gregorian sylphs, with skillful gestures and mania for cheering, are graced for coming to the Way of the cheap and venerable souls that are made up of the bodies of the evil-born on their railing. , in quagmire of swallowing spittle where the cold winter is banished, to jump from the cold oriental, having to walk with the elbows, and with the daring screams of the Sylphs that shake themselves among the foggy and fleshy tangle with rags and fur cloths flying smoothly through the tops of the oak trees in smoke to purge for Vernarth! Gospel, gospel in the barn of the delicate humus was felt, and that it was refracted in the refined forest with philosophical sacred love. Lord, all of us who are because we are, are you Lord ..., all in my exercises of loving gaze, are channeled by the indexes of my thumb to the little finger at the bottom of the sea, and float again from the little finger to the bottom of the surface. Waving in the transience of the world and holding back, Father God thunder, this with laryngitis when he outlines himself with the vast earthly sight, he covers with his right hand, the phlegm of ***** that made him drive an empty tremor, in my lack of security he testified by singing thousands and millions of choirs at this auction. The first ring of the profile will be carried by Jesus light, rubbing his back with some eyelashes of a drunk beetle, while the beetle will collect water between its extensions that will wail real needs of every morning albi - rosaceous that will travel in a circle towards the auditory of the Last auctioned saying: "As I have not to be where I was and was ..., if at night my beloved morning row impulsively and goes against it so as not to stumble into the night ...". Each cut piece of the dermis will have to be auctioned, I had Faith and the screenplay, encapsulated and embedded in each hope of the ramshackle flock, the impiety-weary ogre needed to stow his empty viscera with the cloth of the celestial kingdom, which at auction was beginning to squeeze and vanish when regurgitating smoothies and disintegrated spaces of belonging of the devotees of Vernarth. The writing is signed with lupus, this Lucia emanated from the morning resentment of skin envy, and from the massif drenched in anarchy and city archeology, lying hesitantly ..., as if the forest gave it some indication of rebirth, under the shadow of twinkling doubt, from the high front where they were nuanced over the engendered banners of truth, elucidating the forbidden and true matrix.

Adelimpia, Vernarth's grandmother, was squatting cutting the drool from the dwarf tree that lost a forage, at around 6:30 p.m. on the 39.9th day of a supposed 14th month of another dimension, almost winding up in a tangled series of productive hesitations and rituals, taking her victorious chariot in Lent where the teacher without felt traction, weave sprinkles of forgiveness on her distributor, starting her shaft and not her running engine, she already knew herself as a commoner with the wake of a ship without knowing where to go. Those who did not see themselves more backward intrigued to be part of the central bar of the rocker of the nymphs in their stadium, with a yawning lip where no one was invited. Mega-watt snitches go to the sacristan, breaking speeds of intangible entities that abide by her law, as a sage vilified in her secular realm, even in nowhere, the atmospheric larynx hissed widening through the flakes of the auctioned field, Joshua leaping with her. Cranky black horse Equus, with his anthropomorphic hooves, accelerated with action that put him among the lost belongings of the plateau, whose east limited him to two half-quarters of each other, and two-thirds slowing the sunset from ruby to ruby, brightening in the shades of green and green. Vernarth  Bernardolipo's father swallowed crops, from whose movements were born out of place gestures of residence, parturient fairies appeared emerging at once, or perhaps not emerging, the afternoon crushes the unplayable sun, Hugh and Anne covered their supra orbital eye areas, more towards a hillside where thousands of repertoires were being knocked down, and copious tableware with caked sugar, which seemed to reduce the acoustics from the beginning in what seemed solidly to fade to postulate in new shades of the weary rubbed rainbow, like thousands of shades doing the times of zascandil  in a curled comb, re-sprouting certain storm deities in the natural bow of the wind entangled in each stratus, sprinkling on the hectares of Possessions, standard deeds, sales orders, mutual funds, bonds ... the coffers and the earthly decomposed. Before each onslaught, a highly dense fog arose, highly ignored, anti-critical, and more disparaging of amassing a high scarcity with a local, in his quintals of his last bread for the flock. Lashes that exceed the grammage, foliage from leaf to leaf, from today until tomorrow, in a traveling satyr of dry leaves, "The Sphincter of the World will need Purgative ...".

Marathon of poisonings,… Lord, you have looked me in the eye; with your boat I will follow you, to your privileged perspiring cinnamon dock with various vociferous songs. What fared more than seven zeros, now they will be eaten by rodents, Lord attend my prayers, the pink mast has been sailing at several knots from the north, and it is rapidly losing its polar location, between verbs never traveled or driven, I dared to show off that the path of the gospel in small distant fragments will abound in infinite space, only the one that predominates will glide over my forehead with an accumulation of everything seen and that today in this sale; where everyone you own and care for, like a baby in front of a dissimilar kinship of good adventure and progeny that will leave your hands. "  

Etréstles says: "Soft and mellifluous presumptions ..., where do I have to look if nothing is heard? What is proposed and permeates the law of possessing and not, perhaps the strap reaches an infinite house, where the sun breaks down ..., the spout of my minimal rebirth slowly turned it into my reoriented defined cell. My grandfather Joshua fertilizes the new sales every day with his hooves bandaged with hemp, the sebum stones since they were so are already spirited circles, the hand of the maker is being compared with his tactile sense, Kaitelka's lungs, full of phosphate residues and sulphated, for the first time they milk in medium drops on their udders, although saying and what they prefer to assert of a worthy Down! If it were not, for his regal model of cetacean ostentation, he would not be in the Horcondising taking from today, towards the end of the curtain in the regular blushes, to create the great detachment, so necessary for the pulsating plain and purge his master Vernarth . The night covers it with sulfur oceanic satin, with the spauto of its jet and a magical moving game. Everyone was distracted when she circled over the routines of well-magnetized charms. More than two subjects were deprived of their well-placed jaw, when the overtime ran not crossing in the entire field in which she lived. It was time to unmask the interveners, the boatswain of the alfalfa field had been eating almonds with oil from the sole of a Joshua bototo shoe, she folded her wings at halftime to take a modest breath, to resume weak paths, deprived of confidence and not. To know who they would obey and to whom they would yield the fruit of their old and stock market work in the garden. Chaos for them, light of Lights, for those affiliated with the ruler who is Joshua, who will live behind a makeshift Patagua tree, erecting  aquisus tents and the dogmas of tomorrow. The magnificent concessions in the Horcondising massif continued to fall precipitously; some rummaged through their accounting almanacs, distanced and squandered their exquisite profits. The stagecoach is moving away, and the barrels of water were scarce, the aroma and tastes of roasted beef comes out over the bushes, the stores sway in a naive wind of blooming daisies, the sales were coming against the owners themselves, the taste of the laughter degraded their own present absence, the paraphernalia of the little birds on the carpet of the mountain plateau were, they began to do mercy of the tip in the exposed beams, the hundred feet with calluses came down from the semi-incinerated poles. Nothing smelled of pride anymore, just the last shadow of Joshua's Chief Sheriff; Vinicius, who thinned out the spotlights of the semi-strongmen still trying to collect his heavy wealth, now that among clouds of heavy cargo they went to give him only one habit to try to fit his body, just to wear his outfit. They looked, looked and kept looking at his octogenarian tearful sapro- genito dream, where the first dream ends, and his exile begins. Vinicius, locks the door, and starts drinking mate tea; while screams of those bad jackals were heard fighting for their inherited evils, in manners of not conquering those who lose a dream of their patriarchal courting-love, under the shadow of the most powerful bush for the rest of their lives in groves. Crumbs come off the beards of Joshua, his galvanized knife cuts multiform slices, to feed everyone equally and continue the purge of Vernarth "

The most desolate deity came; he walked in full sun, shelled and unattached, full of elongated bridles and with haste in his eyes. But not in its strides, thousands of years passed, and it brushed with my lost zeal in the quarrels of the Argolica, in the salinized and rotten feces of Eurymedousa, with its snowy and tricolor feet, hooded with its goods! , therefore, unable to sustain its own air from its nasal socket, dropping it likes brave foam that fell in the fired distance. Bad cooked fruit, with the flavor of a sleeping cinnamon stick, mitigating in its kind balsam, frayed wind yielding 360 and so many more suns, before the last one that I carry on my limbs ends. The end of the End began, in the seven ends adorning my steps. The obscene deities came, with their rebuilding geo music, breaking endometriums of goddess’s mobs and their almost massacred Pillan Mapu, among thousands that were, thousands of nowhere they are ..., in a today already anesthetized. He lies in the stench of the corrugated floor, in the wooden handles and rods stacked on the floor gesturing; the god Pillan Mapuche, under a generic vault of sleep falls into lethargy on the faces, leaving his unintelligible hollow free; and its unbalanced environment, crossing the basaltic moraine that circulated one day from the placenta of the fatigued cemetery. Dreams in kilos everywhere of pressed ducks, with dense covering and grasses on the hooves of bucephalos, crucible, living trident and extraordinary flowers ***** in floating skirmish, with dosing globules, thirst that is born from the whiteness of the first day in confessional liberation, cell of white with a looted look, shields of osculation, like icy air that transpires his ninth life and that is born from his ninth death, splinted in the face of death that mutilates his fingers when crossing his genes of perfidious and monkish plot of a life bypass. I sing or I do not sing, I lack my throne from where I observe the glances with time and impudence, possessing everything behind the back of the macabre time in counter-steps of tender golden plague, in foreign skin growing on my right blanket, from so much passing lights with cracked night outings, walking towards me, between roads and between Monday nights with faces of long and sinuous unctuous branches, with great step and size. Now I have to draw the curtain, on light lying in the shadow of an opening scattered in warm beets. With sincerity ..., and mistake there is no will to germinate in them, I will be born without being with them, to be meaningless without them ..., and that it is above other absences, with great eloquent and numerical weight on absent.

They are still plastered, washed out and with the frizzy pigments of a parnassus Paradise, where it has been intervening over its bloodless headers. Joshua walks thousands of steps on with his Equus skull, like a meridian slipping off certain rods of decay. Thus they all floated in the cephalous porous airs, with great airs of Cain collapsing on Abel recomposed in reserves of a millennium that fell twisted and stunned, captivated by an ominous word. Sendal covered themselves in bandurrias that covered the melodious icebergs of exulting individuals and swollen with passion, with their rummaging and thunderous noises going along with their flowers to the sea dissipated. My paternal grandmother was delimited; she paraded from the openings with cough-covered mounds of the frozen volcano, growing reflective slits of dense gradation in the nervousness of the overhang and angry sighing heat, in all the vertiginous and venerable spirits numbed by the darkness of so many sorrows on their bluish heads. Eurymedousa, already ill-fated to continue in Rhodes, appeared on stilts and with agonizing lights and yielding to the crossbows of the centaurs gagged by the Beauties; they consisted of their seesaws before the agreement with the Master, who gave us her Hellenic manifestos, and no less to others. My uncle King Arthur carried news of the locked consonants of his string and with a riding crop for his steed, tangled in rows that tore his face into small abscesses on his face, which were superimposed on those capillaries of the sweat of Heaven. Blessed Lord, the knee had grafts of golden steel, the horns of the radio sol brego that were broken in its metaphysical pregnancy, and its food collector that had solid gold baths towards a tabernacle fussing through its mucous orifices of alfalfa with the a flavours of irradiated cattle . He paraded with his loving mount flying down his track and kept clueless, at times he ran so swiftly that he crossed evil omens with Joshua, he was seen as weak and white in insulting slanders, Tamayo; his friend, who was a Talamite native, followed him on horseback, his son rode the sheep every summer, passing wool of pure holy insignia of a healthy man.
Along the banks of the reeds, he came riding on a donkey, Edward my paternal uncle, the third of Adelimpia, came three steps before his donkey, and he counted three times before riding him with provisions for good waters, wrapped in an energetic fire of Saturday tobacco in his mouth in mourning, who lovingly watching over himself, looking at today towards a peak for his sheep, looking at them for a manger of borders and tiny hunching phrases of black song about legends of the offender, which tempted to show off invading their fields. He is to the right of his mother Adelimpia, and under the rib of his father Bernardolipo overflowing, giving sugar to the colt Dolly in the sunsets, bequeathing affection with syrup, and a thousand compliments in December of 9,900 AD, Joshua, I remained in shreds of pageantry and endless lives, I always said, my lady, here I bring you a peasant's soup in flower of primed twisted canvas, in this three-year period I must call them to dinner in past lands with sweet potatoes to eat and candlesticks of flying seeds, with eager candies of a crack and their thirsty mouths. Gentlemen, I am Edward, their son, I want to sleep in your arms, after escaping from my worst perfidious toothless bite that still hurts inside. After eating great cholesterols from all over the world, amidst the tools of my children I am, always putting a tobacco leaf caught in the scrawled pieces and in great coinciding strokes, in circles dancing to throw away the bad and broken places badly thought and done. When I get to the end I will cling to the Joshua habit and shout not to leave me alone in the middle of this world, without toasted flour, cheese and tobacco. I am not a malignant man, I am only like those of us who are far below, feeling footprints on my spine, and I do not tell my wife Molly, so that she does not lack chickpea flour for our children wrapped in regrets and ***** with hunger and light blue in goodness, like saints and media, but in the end with clear blue water in my glasses. I invite everyone to my table to dine on oceans and worlds of clear celestial light, because with this hand I break this piece; I am the Son of Adelimpia and the supplier. They brought me in anemone branches when the Lord's headache invaded him, when he felt nails in his hands, to the east of Eden, without steps or turgid edges and a rough runaway palfrey”

The Horcondising massif turned into a great mountain, Edward was in the limestone of some potters and followers of Joshua molding him, they began to bait the rope that merges the mountain range, with the valley at the foot of all the mapus, mud flowing from the monastic floods , here they polisonated in the stony atonement of each lamentable trunk. They say;… faramalla  demonion, would be with a Silfife facing the mass of the vital obstacle, with faded coffee fiber, smeared in wine and bread, with eternal vintage vine. Luccica, Vernarth's mother, tackles familiar corners, with anointed frames of fiction in irrational ergonomics…; in numerous steps that will reach your distinguished heart. An ocean of doubts has fallen due to the inheritance that has precarious injuries, of battered egos and scrubbed by undue ignorance. Mountain delusions and manias, which run through the fibrillated vigils of some soft ropes and their abundant bristles like the choppy of an echidna escaping as it tingles by my twisted temples ”. The Horcondising  tam tam modulates through its crater and its pale face of a perpetual cell. Towards the forgiveness of the primordial ones and the commiseration of the orb burying itself in creation, this sacred and over the pale Sudpichian region will rest, in the roots growling in capillaries of the carbonated earths and in its badly wounded footprints. Horcondising is in quarantine, the elevation of the constellations are hyperillusionible, they migrate Along with Albalalhue and Carnivorous, the succeeded nymph that extracts exudation from a flushed match in the palm of some ideas on rollers, higher up and on angular from other right angles. Toiling with her hands, and rubbing possessions with her mazote and her patronage full of rakes.

Etréstles says: “Beyond all metal of hatred of every god not heard, beyond all evil of timid hatred I have not heard. I hold the playful phrasing of Edenic song, which calls us in voices full of long journeys, especially on this day fading. Through the hollow, belts and picket rings breaking the timid lights of the last sunset.  Cardinals in envelopes of fragile strengths, mountains with borders and deposits in the last voluminous plagues on the mason's eye.  Binding themselves in a pile, with saffron nails in their ears, with moths that run through the unforgivable morphologies. Do not lose life, abandon all noisy fight in coalition with the uninhabited *** of coins, there are forty days left to say goodbye to the god Faramalla, who lies with closed tec, limps to his lost pupils, and the sky swirls over his day when nothing not fit for any drinkable air with light bulb. Horcodising loses millimeters within minutes and rising, towards harvests to harvests, they lose merged schedule of a time without a past, reviling themselves from a present of consanguineous evil with an abstinent future. Luccica; Vernarth's mother, she is a sylph dragged by the tempest moraines, being detached to a contemplation and intake of life. The membranes of the accordion burst, and between brittle passageways crying without union, succumb to the teachings of foolish fate, Luccica as a portion owes its origin to the sea, taking its physiognomic bark from a seal specimen of aqueous flattery, to frize it on a similar surface umlauts on the "u", with phosphorescent and indeclinable forges, making it a beautiful maternal nymph, like the beautiful female picking up a moon in her arms, clinging to a new hallucinatory satellite to engender. "Live and talk with your peer, her dazzling sneaks in and laughs at this prominent queen, to exhale on those who observe her."

End Ellipsis Chapter XXXI
Horcondising  Castle Reign - Sudpichian
Transversal Valley  the Ferments - Parapsychological Regression
Mandrake, the Wild Auction
MRQUIPTY Oct 2016
tables claim street
space
shaped like sheep
pens

foxy shepherdess
orders me
Mr Wolf marks
my card

economics of
ergonomics in consumption
bob fonia Oct 2017
These allow products and components to be checked for flaws; assess fit and assembly; study ergonomics; and to analyze static and dynamic characteristics of systems such as stresses, temperatures, electromagnetic emissions, electrical currents and voltages, digital logic levels, fluid flows, and kinematics. Access and distribution of all this information is generally organized with the use of product data management software.[29]

There are also many tools to support specific engineering tasks such as computer-aided manufacturing (CAM) software to generate CNC machining instructions; manufacturing process management software for production engineering; EDA for printed circuit board (PCB) and circuit schematics for electronic engineers; MRO applications for maintenance management; and AEC software for civil engineering.
Khoisan Mar 2022
She ain't no
monotonal metronome
surrounding art
bleeds
from her heart
She ain't no
monotonal metronome
her words messages
phrases and letters
is an extension of all beings,
this Liberty enhanced
in timeless ergonomics
the state of her
incredible stance.
Inspired by the cover photo.
Of Seranaea Jones.
Thanks, ~S~
✌&1❤

— The End —