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Mitchell Dec 2013
In the Fall, when the temperature of the Bay would drop and the wind blew ice, frost would gather on the lawn near Henry Oldez's room. It was not a heavy frost that spread across the paralyzed lawn, but one that just covered each blade of grass with a fine, white, almost dusty coat. Most mornings, he would stumble out of the garage where he slept and tip toe past the ice speckled patch of brown and green spotted grass, so to make his way inside to relieve himself. If he was in no hurry, he would stand on the four stepped stoop and look back at the dried, dead leaves hanging from the wiry branches of three trees lined up against the neighbors fence. The picture reminded him of what the old gallows must have looked like. Henry Oldez had been living in this routine for twenty some years.

He had moved to California with his mother, father, and three brothers 35 years ago. Henry's father, born and raised in Tijuana, Mexico, had traveled across the Meixcan border on a bent, full jalopy with his wife, Betria Gonzalez and their three kids. They were all mostly babies then and none of the brothers claimed to remember anything of the ride, except one, Leo, recalled there was "A lotta dust in the car." Santiago Oldez, San for short, had fought in World War II and died of cancer ten years later. San drank most nights and smoked two packs of Marlboro Reds a day. Henry had never heard his father talk about the fighting or the war. If he was lucky to hear anything, it would have been when San was dead drunk, talking to himself mostly, not paying very much attention to anyone except his memories and his music.

"San loved two things in this world," Henry would say, "*****, Betria, and Johnny Cash."

Betria Gonzalez grew up in Tijuana, Mexico as well. She was a stout, short woman, wide but with pretty eyes and a mess of orange golden hair. Betria could talk to anyone about anything. Her nick names were the conversationalist or the old crow because she never found a reason to stop talking. Santiago had met her through a friend of a friend. After a couple of dates, they were married. There is some talk of a dispute among the two families, that they didn't agree to the marriage and that they were too young, which they probably were. Santiago being Santiago, didn't listen to anybody, only to his heart. They were married in a small church outside of town overlooking the Pacific. Betria told the kids that the waves thundered and crashed against the rocks that day and the sea looked endless. There were no pictures taken and only three people were at the ceremony: Betria, San, and the priest.

Of course, the four boys went to elementary and high school, and, of course, none of them went to college. One brother moved down to LA and eventually started working for a law firm doing their books. Another got married at 18 years old and was in and out of the house until getting under the wing of the union, doing construction and electrical work for the city. The third brother followed suit. Henry Oldez, after high school, stayed put. Nothing in school interested him. Henry only liked what he could get into after school. The people of the streets were his muse, leaving him with the tramps, the dealers, the struggling restaurateurs, the laundry mat hookers, the crooked cops and the addicts, the gang bangers, the bible humpers, the window washers, the jesus freaks, the EMT's, the old ladies pushing salvation by every bus stop, the guy on the corner and the guy in the alley, and the DOA's. Henry didn't have much time for anyone else after all of them.

Henry looked at himself in the mirror. The light was off and the room was dim. Sunlight streaked in through the dusty blinds from outside, reflecting into the mirror and onto Henry's face. He was short, 5' 2'' or 5' 3'' at most with stubby, skinny legs, and a wide, barrel shaped chest. He examined his face, which was a ravine of wrinkles and deep crows feet. His eyes were sunken and small in his head. Somehow, his pants were always one or two inches below his waistline, so the crack of his *** would constantly be peeking out. Henry's deep, chocolate colored hair was  that of an ancient Native American, long and nearly touched the tip of his belt if he stood up straight. No one knew how long he had been growing it out for. No one knew him any other way. He would comb his hair incessantly: before and after a shower, walking around the house, watching television with Betria on the couch, talking to friends when they came by, and when he drove to work, when he had it.

Normal work, nine to five work, did not work for Henry. "I need to be my own boss," he'd say. With that fact stubbornly put in place, Henry turned to being a handy man, a roofer, and a pioneer of construction. No one knew where he would get the jobs that he would get, he would just have them one day. And whenever he 'd finish a job, he'd complain about how much they'd shorted him, soon to move on to the next one. Henry never had to listen to anyone and, most of the time, he got free lunches out of it. It was a very strange routine, but it worked for him and Betria had no complaints as long as he was bringing some money in and keeping busy. After Santiago died, she became the head of the house, but really let her boys do whatever they wanted.

Henry took a quick shower and blow dried his hair, something he never did unless he was in a hurry. He had a job in the east bay at a sorority house near the Berkley campus. At the table, still in his pajamas, he ate three leftover chicken thighs, toast, and two over easy eggs. Betria was still in bed, awake and reading. Henry heard her two dogs barking and scratching on her bedroom door. He got up as he combed his damp hair, tugging and straining to get each individual knot out. When he opened the door, the smaller, thinner dog, Boy Boy, shot under his legs and to the front door where his toy was. The fat, beige, pig-like one waddled out beside Henry and went straight for its food bowl.

"Good morning," said Henry to Betria.

Betria looked at Henry over her glasses, "You eat already?"

"Yep," he announced, "Got to go to work." He tugged on a knot.

"That's good. Dondé?" Betria looked back down at her spanish TV guide booklet.

"Berkley somewhere," Henry said, bringing the comb smoothly down through his hair.

"That's good, that's good."

"OK!" Henry sighed loudly, shutting the door behind him. He walked back to the dinner table and finished his meal. Then, Betria shouted something from her room that Henry couldn't hear.

"What?" yelled Henry, so she could hear him over the television. She shouted again, but Henry still couldn't hear her. Henry got up and went back to her room, ***** dish in hand. He opened her door and looked at her without saying anything.

"Take the dogs out to ***," Betria told him, "Out the back, not the front."

"Yeah," Henry said and shut the door.

"Come on you dogs," Henry mumbled, dropping his dish in the sink. Betria always did everyones dishes. She called it "her exercise."

Henry let the two dogs out on the lawn. The sun was curling up into the sky and its heat had melted all of the frost on the lawn. Now, the grass was bright green and Henry barely noticed the dark brown dead spots. He watched as the fat beige one squatted to ***. It was too fat to lifts its own leg up. The thing was built like a tank or a sea turtle. Henry laughed to himself as it looked up at him, both of its eyes going in opposite directions, its tongue jutted out one corner of his mouth. Boy boy was on the far end of the lawn, searching for something in the bushes. After a minute, he pulled out another one of his toys and brought it to Henry. Henry picked up the neon green chew toy shaped like a bone and threw it back to where Boy boy had dug it out from. Boy boy shot after it and the fat one just watched, waddling a few feet away from it had peed and laid down. Henry threw the toy a couple more times for Boy boy, but soon he realized it was time to go.

"Alright!" said Henry, "Get inside. Gotta' go to work." He picked up the fat one and threw it inside the laundry room hallway that led to the kitchen and the rest of the house. Boy boy bounded up the stairs into the kitchen. He didn't need anyone lifting him up anywhere. Henry shut the door behind them and went to back to his room to get into his work clothes.

Henry's girlfriend was still asleep and he made sure to be quiet while he got dressed. Tia, Henry's girlfriend, didn't work, but occasionally would put up garage sales of various junk she found around town. She was strangely obsessed with beanie babies, those tiny plush toys usually made up in different costumes. Henry's favorite was the hunter. It was dressed up in camouflage and wore an eye patch. You could take off its brown, polyester hat too, if you wanted. Henry made no complaint about Tia not having a job because she usually brought some money home somehow, along with groceries and cleaning the house and their room. Betria, again, made no complain and only wanted to know if she was going to eat there or not for the day.

A boat sized bright blue GMC sat in the street. This was Henry's car. The stick shift was so mangled and bent that only Henry and his older brother could drive it. He had traded a new car stereo for it, or something like that. He believed it got ten miles to the gallon, but it really only got six or seven. The stereo was the cleanest piece of equipment inside the thing. It played CD's, had a shoddy cassette player, and a decent radio that picked up all the local stations. Henry reached under the seat and attached the radio to the front panel. He never left the radio just sitting there in plain sight. Someone walking by could just as soon as put their elbow into the window, pluck the thing out, and make a clean 200 bucks or so. Henry wasn't that stupid. He'd been living there his whole life and sure enough, done the same thing to other cars when he was low on money. He knew the tricks of every trade when it came to how to make money on the street.

On the road, Henry passed La Rosa, the Mexican food mart around the corner from the house. Two short, tanned men stood in front of a stand of CD's, talking. He usually bought pirated music or movies there. One of the guys names was Bertie, but he didn't know the other guy. He figured either a customer or a friend. There were a lot of friends in this neighborhood. Everyone knew each other somehow. From the bars, from the grocery, from the laundromat, from the taco stands or from just walking around the streets at night when you were too bored to stay inside and watch TV. It wasn't usually safe for non-locals to walk the streets at night, but if you were from around there and could prove it to someone that was going to jump you, one could usually get away from losing a wallet or an eyeball if you had the proof. Henry, to people on the street, also went as Monk. Whenever he would drive through the neighborhood, the window open with his arm hanging out the side, he would usually hear a distant yell of "Hey Monk!" or "What's up Monk!". Henry would always wave back, unsure who's voice it was or in what direction to wave, but knowing it was a friend from somewhere.

There was heavy traffic on the way to Berkley and as he waited in line, cursing his luck, he looked over at the wet swamp, sitting there beside highway like a dead frog. A few scattered egrets waded through the brown water, their long legs keeping their clean white bodies safe from the muddy water. Beyond the swamp laid the pacific and the Golden Gate bridge. San Francisco sat there too: still, majestic, and silver. Next to the city, was the Bay Bridge stretched out over the water like long gray yard stick. Henry compared the Golden Gate's beauty with the Bay Bridge. Both were beautiful in there own way, but the Bay Bridge's color was that of a gravestone, while the Golden Gate's color was a heavy red, that made it seem alive. Why they had never decided to pain the Bay Bridge, Henry had no idea. He thought it would look very nice with a nice coat of burgundy to match the Golden gate, but knew they would never spend the money. They never do.

After reeling through the downtown streets of Berkley, dodging college kids crossing the street on their cell phones and bicyclists, he finally reached the large, A-frame house. The house was lifted, four or five feet off the ground and you had to walk up five or seven stairs to get to the front door. Surrounded by tall, dark green bushes, Henry knew these kids had money coming from somewhere. In the windows hung spinning colored glass and in front of the house was an old-timey dinner bell in the shape of triangle. Potted plants lined the red brick walkway that led to the stairs. Young tomatoes and small peas hung from the tender arms of the stems leaf stalks. The lawn was manicured and clean. "Must be studying agriculture or something," Henry thought, "Or they got a really good gardener."

He parked right in front of the house and looked the building up and down, estimating how long it would take to get the old shingles off and the new one's on. Someone was up on the deck of the house, rocking back and forth in an old wooden chair. He listened to the creaking wood of the chair and the deck, judging it would take him two days for the job. Henry knew there was no scheduled rain, but with the Bay weather, one could never be sure. He had worked in rain before - even hail - and it never really bothered him. The thing was, he never strapped himself in and when it would rain and he was working roofs, he was afraid to slip and fall. He turned his truck off, got out, and locked both of the doors. He stepped heavily up the walkway and up the stairs. The someone who was rocking back and forth was a skinny beauty with loose jean shorts on and a thick looking, black and red plaid shirt. She had long, chunky dread locks and was smoking a joint, blowing the smoke out over the tips of the bushes and onto the street. Henry was no stranger to the smell. He smoked himself. This was California.

"Who're you?" the dreaded girl asked.

"I'm the roofer," Henry told her.

The girl looked puzzled and disinterested. Henry leaned back on his heels and wondered if the whole thing was lemon. She looked beyond him, down on the street, awkwardly annoying Henry's gaze. The tools in Henry's hands began to grow heavy, so he put them down on the deck with a thud. The noise seemed to startle the girl out of whatever haze her brain was in and she looked back at Henry. Her eyes were dark brown and her skin was smooth and clear like lake water. She couldn't have been more then 20 or 21 years old. Henry realized that he was staring and looked away at the various potted plants near the rocking chair. He liked them all.

"Do you know who called you?" She took a drag from her joint.

"Brett, " Henry told her, "But they didn't leave a last name."

For a moment, the girl looked like she had been struck across the chin with a brick, but then her face relaxed and she smiled.

"Oh ****," she laughed, "That's me. I called you. I'm Brett."

Henry smiled uneasily and picked up his tools, "Ok."

"Nice to meet you," she said, putting out her hand.

Henry awkwardly put out his left hand, "Nice to meet you too."

She took another drag and exhaled, the smoke rolling over her lips, "Want to see the roof?"

The two of them stood underneath a five foot by five foot hole. Henry was a little uneasy by the fact they had cleaned up none of the shattered wood and the birds pecking at the bird seed sitting in a bowl on the coffee table facing the TV. The arms of the couch were covered in bird **** and someone had draped a large, zebra printed blanket across the middle of it. Henry figured the blanket wasn't for decoration, but to hide the rest of the bird droppings. Next to the couch sat a large, antique lamp with its lamp shade missing. Underneath the dim light, was a nice portrait of the entire house. Henry looked away from the hole, leaving Brett with her head cocked back, the joint still pinched between her lips, to get a closer look. There looked to be four in total: Brett, a very large man, a woman with longer, thick dread locks than Brett, and a extremely short man with a very large, brown beard. Henry went back
Kafersuseh One-Dimensional Beams II; In this environment of preservation of links and communication with each other, Raeder, Petrobus the Pelican and Alikanto were in a state of maximum stillness and complacency, they were enjoying the reality that was experienced with the child. Raeder unexpectedly leads Petrobus out of the barn and begins an exploration of the rolling nativity event. Here he takes hold of the gold-jade rings and takes flight towards the upper part of the stable, where he can see from above that it did not look like an ordinary stable, rather it seemed like a seat of the Faith where he observed that some prowling on the roof cherubs, they jumped and crossed mimicking the same gestures that Joshua made in his manger. Impressed, Raeder approached them and began to share with them, flying over where they could do it with their new friends. After a while, Alikanto joined them, who also enjoyed these games precisely, but did not see the Cherubim. He only saw how the two of them jumped but was surrounded by a large concentration of flying Lepidoptera. At the end of the night, when dawn begins, everyone retires and goes to their tents, not knowing what to decide for the next day. The tired Apostle next to Vernarth was glorious with joy after having recalled this episode of the arrival of a Messiah who would transport them from this stable to Gethsemane where his native Aramaic jargon had to enable him to generate synergy between the areas of the Gardens of the Olive trees and Gethsemane, to concatenate the entire phylogeny He only saw how the two of them jumped but surrounded by a large concentration of flying Lepidoptera. At the end of the night, when dawn begins, everyone retires and goes to their tents, not knowing what to decide for the next day. The tired Apostle next to Vernarth was glorious with joy after having recalled this episode of the arrival of a Messiah who would transport them from this stable to Gethsemane where his native Aramaic jargon had to enable him to generate synergy between the areas of the Gardens of the Olive trees and Gethsemane, to concatenate the entire phylogeny He only saw how the two of them jumped but surrounded by a large concentration of flying Lepidoptera. At the end of the night, when dawn begins, everyone retires and goes to their tents, not knowing what to decide for the next day. The tired Apostle next to Vernarth was glorious with joy after having recalled this episode of the arrival of a Messiah who would transport them from this stable to Gethsemane where his native Aramaic jargon had to enable him to generate synergy between the areas of the Gardens of the Olive trees and Gethsemane, to concatenate the entire phylogenies a new bonding relationship between species that were appropriate and endemic to the region near the stable at Bethlem to be inter-inseminated on banks of the Gethsemane slopes, so that linguistics would begin to absorb Joshua and go for a closer shortcut towards the classification of the traditional and omnipotent variants that migrated through the Olive Trees, to renew and preserve the Aramaic or Aramaic languages ​​of a shared origin now, for the omnipotent salvific languages ​​that were to be redirected in Gethsemane. Once leaving for the city of the eight gates, Raeder continued to sway on the roof with the Cherubim, rather they were already inseparable until he received an order from Alikanto that they should hurry back to the stores. He leaves but some mischievous Cherubim follow them and escort them to the tent. The next day at dawn they stand in front of them serenely as if they were still in Kafersesuh. They prepare the camels and the belongings, to resume the return to the final grand opening of Judah; to initiate the trades of reintegration of Saint John the Apostle to the surrealism that predicted him to split poles in his former exile and reintegration, under an early departure to revive the cathedrals of constant ringing and constant vibrating in the bells of Jerusalem and Gethsemane. everyone rides, the Hexagonal Birthright and King David tighten the incisors of the camels heading towards the new door that they took turns opening once they arrived in Jerusalem. Raeder and Petrobus arrived late, flying from the top of the caravan alongside the Cherubim who now guarded them. While the Crickets consumed all the laws that were incommensurable with the litanies of Angels that waited to unroll from In dextro qui non ad altare. "On the boast of those who did not have to reach the altar"



Paraps XXVII

Messiah of Judah IV part

Miracle V- Gethsemane / Aramic Phylogeny

They leave Bethlehem undivided in the Giant Ungulates. Of the seven spaces in the column, the last one that was occupied was the seventh where King David went. Of the five remaining spaces, the Cherubs went, they were playing with Raeder and Petrobus; they showed off with their adventures flying towards elevations of the majestic Sun. The Cherubim tinkled with colors of Abrahamic angelic beings involved in the worship and praise of the Caravan. The Cherubim are first mentioned on the route back to Jerusalem with the large turnout of bumblebees, bees, and wasps all flying alongside Raeder, Petrobus, and Alikanto. They would all stay for up to half a mile before reaching the eight gates and resuming their course to the Garden of Gethsemane. They were surrounded by Debkas dancing in their Aramaic phylogeny. The bumblebees were encrusted by the hills loaded with echoes outside of man...., placing themselves to the east of the Garden of Eden in rows of Cherubim with a flaming sword that turned on all sides to guard the path of the tree of life. Ezekiel describes "four living creatures" as the same beings as the Cherubs, each having four faces that were like a man, a lion, an ox, and an eagle, and each one was tetra-winged. As for their appearance of them: "there was in them the likeness of man" These used two of their wings to fly and the other two to cover their bodies, under their wings they seemed to have the shape or resemblance of a man's hand that resembled the Aramean phylogeny that linked environmental and organic pollinations of Lepidoptera that were carrying the fertilizing spheres to reach the angiosperms. The Christic language was inaugurating the fringe of the frolicsome land that awaited the inauguration of Linguistic Phylogeny to attend to the decrees for the perenniality of the language that relates Gethsemane with the Olivo presses, the Cherubs beating their wings to reach Father Abba. With the flashes of the Apocalypse, the Cherubim danced happily, magnifying the presence of the Apostle in the Hexagonal Birthright with the holiness and power of God, This is one of their main responsibilities throughout the abbey and members mobilize to meet one of the twelve apostles with propaedeutic assonance attached to the twelve Giga camels, in addition to singing praises to Yahweh they also served as a visible reminder of the majesty and glory of the Messiah. The Apostle says by parapsychological regression: "A fascinating route on foot in Jerusalem begins at the top of the Mount of Olives and curiously leads us to the route that will be taken after the evangelical legs of the camelids that will take them to the Holy Sepulchre, Continuing through the Damascus Gate..., here the camelids became restless! Very close by, the topography of the top of the Mount between the route at the foot of Bethany and Jerusalem was perceived, the Garden of Gethsemane crammed with Angels appeared to us..., Joshua's prayers in Aramaic are felt slipping into camel snores as pleas are heard before his arrest in the Garden." Here at that moment, it happens that the flies arrested the apostle, taking him to a specific sector of the orchard where sacred water and humid wind continue to flow, having olive trees growing in the embossed garden with enormous oil press to border them by olive oil pipeline to grace the Lord in laurels from Daphnomancy such a holistic form of divination by which it is intended to make predictions using laurel leaves and branches chewing them before and then lighting them towards the crackle of the consecrated fire of Gethsemane Aramaic that lit paths and feet of Joshua. also carried on its four wings the Cherubim four laurels on each laureate wing.Thickened by palmistry energy, they walked towards the main entrance of the oil press, They arrive in the surroundings of Gethsemane surrounded by Daphnomancy of laurels carried on their wings by the Seraphim, Bumblebees, and others who would be in charge of inseminating the pollinating particles in the angiosperms, thus rescuing minimal words and verbal serial in the words that were transferred from the stable Kafersuseh in Bethlehem so as not to lose the Aramaic word, thus being redistributed to Gethsemane by the Lepidoptera and Bumblebees, wasps and bees. This inter-organic phenomenon would re-couple the verbalized accents of Joshua in middle age and in the unborn in such a way as to preserve the Aramaic dialect, to re-clone the same groupings and intentions as the environmental phylogeny of the dialect in a ritual culture that would redact with insects. and Cherubim, to re-enchant all the pluralities that would be arranged in the Garden to energize the salvific and appearing oil pipelines of the image of Saint John the Apostle, King David, Vernarth, Etréstles, Eurídice, and the rest that make up further from the seventh camelid until reaching the latest; the Fifth Cherub that will be the scribe present together with Pedro and the two sons of Zebedeo, only one with the one nearby in great courage, San Ioannis. His Holiness Joshua used to say: "Abba..., Father, all things are possible for you, take this cup away from me; But not what I want, but what you want. Joshua came later and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter: Simon, are you sleeping? Have not you been able to watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you do not enter into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. Again he went and prayed, saying the same words. When he returned, he found them sleeping again because their eyes were heavy with sleep; And they didn't know what to answer. He came the third time and said to them: Sleep now and rest. Enough, the hour has come; behold, the Son of Man is delivered into the hands of sinners. Get up, let's go; Behold, the one who delivers me is approaching." From small lively henchmen lights were seen to greater discontent..., they were the executioner, attached to the broken hostile leaf of the laurel that fell on his back "In flames and crackling in all his offspring "The anticipated visions were fertilized by the Cherubs that anticipated events in the chronological life of the apostle having to do with his life as an apostle and evangelist of the new succession after returning from exile. He came close already entering through a path, that was a road where the rows of pipes were that crossed the Getsemaní subsoil. Fifth Cherubim of the Septuagint: "As a scribe of the Hexagonal Primogeniture I make reference to two hundred years before the birth of Jesus, a Greek translation of the Hebrew scriptures developed and became widely accepted as a legitimate (even inspired) translation. Tradition relates to how King Ptolemy II of Egypt established a vast library in Alexandria. However, it was not complete, and he wanted to have a copy of the Hebrew Scriptures in it. Ptolemy sent representatives to Jerusalem and invited the Jewish elders to prepare a new Greek translation of the text. Seventy-two elders six from each of the 12 tribes of Israel came to Egypt to fulfill the request. And as your Santiago, you will write with me the allegory that will shine brightest in Alexandria. Thus they were led to the lonely island of Pharos where at the end of 72 days their work was completed. King Ptolemy was pleased with the result and placed it in his library. When the task was completed the translators compared everything and it was discovered that each one was miraculously identical to the others. The result later became known as the Septuagint (from the Greek word for 70) and was especially popular with Greek-speaking Jews for centuries to come. Hebrew was displaced and Aramaic prevailed, which is the New Testament language that will influence the eclectic of Aramaic as a language that was also ascended with Joshua to heaven to communicate with all the preaching of his Father in the sacred phylogeny with Lepidoptera and his entourage "I am sitting on the last camel, and I know I will be the first."

Ellipsis Prophet Elijah: "They were on Mount Carmel when I summoned the faithful of Baal, Asherah and others. I summoned them to seal a new pact on the slopes that pointed to the howls in Jezrael from where a prolonged and accursed drought was lamented. At the moment all the congregants were absorbed before the imprecation that he made before Ahab asking for the abandonment of Baal and finalizing the 450 pagan prophets, they called Baal in several days and nights and did not answer, Elijah, mocked him saying "Call him with all your might Maybe he fell asleep and needs someone to wake him up." The people gathered on the mountain and then Elijah told them: "You have to decide, If Jehovah is the true God, follow him But if Baal is the true God, follow him. Let's do a test: the 450 prophets of Baal must prepare an offering and call their god, I am going to prepare an offering and call Jehovah. The god who responds by sending fire is the true God." The people accepted. Elijah put his offering on an altar and poured a lot of water on it. Then he prayed: "O Jehovah, let the people see that you are the true God." Immediately Jehovah sent fire from heaven to burn up the offering. The people shouted: "Jehovah is the true God!" Now Elijah said, "Let no prophet of Baal escape." That day, They killed the 450 prophets of Baal. Then a little cloud appeared over the sea, and Elijah said to Ahab, "There's a storm coming. Get your car ready and go home." The sky was filled with black clouds, the wind blew and it started to rain very hard. The drought is finally over. Ahab took off in his chariot as fast as he could. Jehovah helped Elijah to run faster than the chariot. But were all Elijah's problems already over...? Here the god Aiónius rained down in the crystalline waxy dews of the Horcondising proclaiming eternity in the presence of an ascended Merkabah like Elijah. The drought is finally over. Ahab took off in his chariot as fast as he could. Jehovah helped Elijah to run faster than the chariot. But were all Elijah's problems already over...? Here the god Aiónius rained down in the crystalline waxy dews of the Horcondising proclaiming eternity in the presence of an ascended Merkabah like Elijah. The drought is finally over. Ahab took off in his chariot as fast as he could. Jehovah helped Elijah to run faster than the chariot. But were all Elijah's problems already over...? Here the god Aiónius rained down in the crystalline waxy dews of the Horcondising proclaiming eternity in the presence of an ascended Merkabah like Elijah. The ground shakes and initiations of the Aramaic roots appear after the intervention of the fifth Cherub and the prophet Elijah on Mount Carmel, the Phylogeny is testified with links that flow between subterfuges of re-dogmatized civilizations for ignoring their pagan languages ​​and creeds. In this genealogy were the bumblebees, bees, wasps, and Lepidoptera scattering all this stormy rain before they all reached the arenas of Gethsemane with the perfect connection between the idiomatic form, and the interspecies communicated with the vivid expressions where so many times the strings of Joshua circled the Gethsemane tapestry. No doubt here these species will establish the DNA and molecules for successful genetic derivation in an evolutionary environmental testament to the establishment of pollination in the Garden.

Phylogenetic dogma: The coincidences in morphological and embryological themes will be located in the orchard with a great genetic relationship and evolutionary resemblance. to that of the orchard to eternalize the concatenations of both topographical niches, in such a way as to root the Aramaic in all organic elements and not to provide the great prevalence of an eternal pacifying-luminous discourse in creation that does not perish, but rather is reactivated with these procedures in a new phase that the Apostle and Vernarth will inaugurate by reestablishing the premature hegemony of the garden, as a link between birth and resurrection. From the ratio Nazareth – Bethlehem / Kafersesuh – Getsemani. Of these diversifications, the key to the trees and their adaptation to the environment and the new Methodist dogmatics will appear, to adapt it to the material and immaterial elements as a paradise habitat in Judah with adequate species aware of their own self-preservation and self-evolution at the service by Joshua, Says Vernarth: "In Greek mythology, Ilithyia-Eileithyi is our Hellenic goddess of births and midwives. In the cave at Amnisos-Crete, she was associated with the annual birth of the divine child, and her worship is connected with Aeneidaon the earth-shaker who was the chthonic aspect of the god Poseidon. My divine child has similar "Behold the Fifth Miracle" coincidences both in a cave or stable. Ilithyia is seen with the torch-carrying light for the children to come to the world of the Messiah. Now we will shake the garden from its nascent oil ducts, we will have the salvific light that will flow from the hypos secretion of candlesticks with olive oil, anticipating a new messianic verdict, where we will populate the abyss of the earth as a great similar light that will accompany us in Shemesh philosophy. Sun, witnessing to the Messiah and conciliating ourselves with his instructions as it was in Jezrael and now in the garden". Bern Aramic Element from Bethlehem is felt in the messages from the fields of Moab, after the death of Elimelech and Mahlon and Chilion's children, leaving Naomi alone, Alone among the ears of grain. Lepidoptera would begin to fly throughout the lands of Judah after this distressing event. From the separations of the fields in the hot afternoons, Ruth could be seen in the fields and in Hera firmly united to Naomi, where each fence after another will go into the other in the name of Jehovah. Ruth gathers the corn and ears on purpose with the sheaves among the reapers and overgrown sheaves to make the sustenance of a past life of famine brought by Naomi's cries. Then Ruth, after gleaning the grasses, thanked Boaz, looking into his eyes intently, being able to see in him how to lift the hay and run it to the world of the midwives to feed the newborn children anointed by Ilithyah as well, so everyone will eat the pottage and They will satiate until they are very satisfied. From this land of spikes will come the celebrations of Shavuot and good grace for the stay of the Hexagonal Birthright in Gethsemane. The histrionics and ranchers of these lands are making a great contribution to this phylogeny (with the consolidation of the Aramaic language in the garden). Ruth appears saying: "Look at the field, we are all in it, we have water and enough heat from the Shemesh ignition, to give the spikes to grow here is the refuge of Jehovah who gives us his protection making us an equal part of his children to sustain us. I feel great pride in being respectful to Noemi, she will help me with ears of corn that will migrate to Gethsemane with the imminent visit of the Apostle Saint John. The Bumblebees, Bees, and Wasps will be satiated, they will provide the nutrient food to those who will have to make the communications in the garden. "Blessed is the food that she gives you by harvesting it, preserving it and lavishing it"A great archaeological hereditary axiom begins to be evidenced in this agriculture transmitted from the field to the expression of epistemic-emotional areas that represent endocranial and buccopharyngeal molds of sheep that intervene with tillage and weevils. Here the beloved rhetoric of the weevils will intervene with personal wings from the basic strut of their emotions, attracting signals in the fields and images described by flocks of insects that migrated from this passage in the Book of Ruth in order to relay them with phonetic signals that go beyond the spike that is rather a settlement or a current Kibbutz, to mold or settle archaic civilizations under an idiomatic link that will attend the phylogeny as cephalization of invertebrate animals with those of kind of support,

Phylogeny in Gethsemane: The **** Erectus crossed paths with multiple pieces of evidence of adaptive pro-evolution beings, Neanderthal/**** Sapiens. The children of Israel wrote parables, epistles, verses, stories, and books..., their phonetic vocal tract spoke of storms and environmental factors between heaven and earth "Great noise outside of us, but little silence in us." What is elemental is the larynx that has only pronounced the image that denounces a concept evoking the minimum sound in the different positions of its instrumentalized mega sound. Speaking to us how language varies according to history and the civic-environmental environment, instructing us on its threshold and caste as it detaches itself through aerial effusions from the statement at the laryngeal level. It authoritatively collects the intervals of vocalization and relationship with agriculture in all its dimensions descending through its internal panels but rising through our parietal emotions outside of herself. The little of the air that the world has left to continue digesting temporarily have it to let air flow that is possessed in mechanically inert particles, and not in sanctified prophecies with corollaries of miracles. Inherences have made of a super existence of those who still do not perish by the hand of a monarchical mandate, even the mute swallow air is suffocating and contaminated halves while others redistribute them for those who need to sit at the table to collect the unleavened and share it with what the rest. "Here resounds the echo of my Christic body". That in Aramaic will syndicate much more than the phrasing in its blood, grapheme and phonemes or stylistics that is the commotion of vibrating beyond the deep ground reverberating with the grace of its divine statement". Joshua resists spikes and olive leaves simultaneously disposing of us in his arms as his children, he is a sheep in his arms lactating hydro-milk of sustenance from his creative verb. "a strict fact of preserving Aramaic and not misleading them by turning the pages of history". The Aramaic must be incorporated so that Joshua, after more than two thousand years, can see that He is still here walking from one place to another to tell us that He is still here, only suggestive of your walking, plagiarizing your larynx in the sound of His expression and shepherding. The sheep are quadrupedal..., more mammalian than a man because its statement is always reflected in the bases of its skull for the rest of its offspring as a biblical expression, under all the rainbows of the cherubim, together with the children surrounding them in identical intention. **** habilis–**** Sanctus, which is a process that has a charismatic base and peripheral anatomical volume for the exposed part of the sternum by confusing them with each other, not altering their structural or functional complexity. From the potential of Lepidoptera and winged weevils, the phenotype will emerge that will relate and relativize the mechanics of Aramaic or the Aramaic method of not losing the gibberish because it is divine, as well as it is exalted and laryngeal torque to those who possess Aramaic blood and body, since its motorized mysticism is to devour minimum words with maxims in a whole of ranges and sounds of the field, dialoguing: "Come to my field, here the ears of corn and weevils will speak more than the mechanical potential of Your Voice". They continue through the Ruth field integrating phonemes in small verses that go from the shelter of words and that refer to settlements of which they do not speak only suggest the presence of Jeheová without being present, but if after being with his stomach satisfied parodying activities in the field with his plectrum made a reality in a transgenerational poetic-hydric whole of ancient peoples who no longer speak..., "They only express wisdom in ****** agro-phrases of spikes and olives in all their songs." After walking through cobbled and narrow streets that are now full of runes with Bedouin fumaroles..., it is such a walk through an avid heart of alkaloids and lipids; touring synagogues and evoking an outstanding barrage of pilgrimages without knowing how many more will escort them in our attempts. The walls that protect Jerusalem are witnesses to many battles that have been fought "in the name of God". As well as the ground that speaks for itself, without a doubt the Mount of Olives can be seen from Jerusalem beautifully but not, in the same way, the other way around. The forests whose fruits contribute positively to the economy of the region, in addition to symbolizing strength, security, and prosperity, give hope in the journey of history the same as nothing that tires of the same. The Garden or Garden of Gethsemane, a name that alludes to the olive mill used to extract and process the oil according to the Gospels, The Lord came to Gethsemane with his disciples to dedicate some time to prayer, but since the atmosphere in Jerusalem was one of hesitation and high tension due to the celebration of the Jewish Passover festival due to the context of the political and military occupation of the Roman Empire, Jesus was very saddened and began to get distressed...holding on to the branches every time he felt an olive near his denoted fingers. Etréstles says: "All the physical, exalted and psychic forces of Jesus here stink digging into the organic tissue, experiences that go beyond the intellect..., it is the proper and unequivocal admissibility of military feet walking on the ground after meditation and recollection. From today when the lights between shadows will fill the limits of the orchard with connection, They will have to graze on the Gigas ungulates when the atmospheres have to make the tribune grass grow on their idyllic evangelizer to have it for tomorrow in the meditation of dawn. All the pros and cons will have to get lost with prayer guests that will inhabit spaces that will not intervene in human reason. Meditation with the Cherubim in the hexagonal primogeniture and weevils interpenetrating divisions of time that is obtained at the end of a calm, and being able to offer with imagination the inclemencies of having everything just beginning. That is prayer, it begins cyclically and then returns to the beginning, without leaving us comforted to finish what the circle of lapse of the meditative circumambulation does not enclose. Saint John the Apostle expounded: More than pain and concern, After praying, he regained his strength and courage to face the vine with disappointments and betrayals with the courage of hopeful dignity. But more than this atavistic-anthropological complex it is salvific integrity that the verb saves the term, through the vibratory prayer of sound and perception of words and more with the Aramaic sound that narrows like the streets of Jerusalem, to distinguish biases in praising essence in the elements of noise almost to the harmonic limit of a sound perfecting itself in a psalter or a parable, which emerges from its oropharyngeal fret, leaving without expiation the abrupt change of Hebrew thought and doctrine, together with the external sound emancipating in the perfect cacophony of its inner vibratory howl beyond the ritual that pleases our insufficiencies by having an Abba. He sanctifies and purifies because he is substance and the dawn of a new earth that lies in the garden of prayer, and all the times that they have to get up to grab the Bible and watch as an indivisible interloquy in me prostrated each time I get up and speak with my Abba being attentive to lock me in his dimension. The food that returns and feeds back is the lineage provided with justice to inhabit the body that synthesizes its protean oratory, the food that you go there from a breeze and from revelry puts all its outfits on the tables to sit around is the lament that smells of seeds that evaporate from the hands and the heat of the holy field. The food that speaks of inviting so many to sit next to us is the one who was least thought to be lacking in love and should not be prepared, being the indicated one who would eat everything until he was satisfied, leaving nothing in the compote or in the yeast, because from it the food that satisfies will persist only for those who have the excessive spirit of the famine of those who can be quenched. Gethsemane is a flowery field where intoxicated Lepidoptera and Angels who only have one mission fly; "Give food to those who owe the desire to eat and nothing else because the rest that suggests it is abstention, and this will be procrastination of the verb that ceases to create endowment even wanting it, because all the sustenance of life can cease by risking bread and came more than to consecrate Health! Rather, it is due to the nourished devotional circle of the action of lavishing the circle of Son-Father granting the establishment of hunger-satiety to forge genetic and paternal seeds to recirculate them in the chain of procreation. Eurydice speaks: "My body undulates like a peg towards my beloved Joshua, I come from the figurehead of a ship. I went to Jerusalem to look for flowers that pour aromatic to bring and exalt their words tied to their feet. I was late and I lost my way, unable to find my way back. I only saw that from afar some lights in the northern area of ​​the orchard lit up like olive cyclers exploding in the air in nocturnal fireflies that swarmed together with the Lepidoptera..., they guided me here. But I repeat, when I saw the lights it took me back to when I was little in my distant Greece with Orpheus when he managed to sleep on Cerberus near Lake Styx. But I reiterate..., beyond the lights I have been able to see how the weevils are framing and plotting your words, my beloved Joshua, that the auditors will be able to help the square and interpret for many more than thousands of years, taking us with pre-recipients that allow us to feel their voice and hear it as far away as if it were closer than the olive branch that caresses their face. But I reiterate, I never thought I would get lost, I am even arriving as if I were from the figurehead of my ship, I always wanted to be close to the world of light of the Olivo of Barnea genetics like this one that has led me to meet it" Eurídice heads to the holy place, when it approaches, the Fireflies and Lepidoptera come out to pick it up, they allied themselves with the twisted shadows of olive trees, sharpening in clear harmony with the mirror archetypes of the dark foliage reflecting the green shadows on the wild fruits,

Just eleven days before the ekadashi of the full moon, the phenomenon of the harvest took place, which happens after a year of the abundant harvest of olives and another in which the harvest is small, here the change of nuances and corrugated textures is evident in the countenance of the olive trees without it being possible to think that this phenomenon will necessarily take place on a biennial or triennial basis. It was suspected and was known that the developing fruits would go to this event through their hormones and substances that intervene in their growth, acting as inhibitors of the differentiation of the buds, for which many of them would change when they were transformed into flowers to make them into the wood, from this process it was deduced that alternate bearing occurs when grass and gospel are lacking. The actions aimed at promoting ascending harvests in years that correspond to load, through the care of the planting of meditation and the abandonment of it in the years of discharge contribute even more, to accentuating the vecería in the doubts of faith. Some varieties of olive trees are more frequent than others, so it can be guessed that a genetic component is generated in this phenomenon. On the other hand, there will be the Christian cultivation technique, reducing the frequency of rotation, such as irrigation or the early harvesting of the olive for the tables that need to have it on their tablecloth. In such a way that this phenomenon will help the genetic phylogeny to reinsert lost expired words of antiquity in the emanation of the wisdom of God, through the universe acting as a great Drupa or peach that will assimilate being the amygdala that will allow sent vibrations to nod when they connect with the soil plagued walking and retraced the Messiah bringing us to his land with words in Aramaic of sacred salvation and his ancestry of word surveyor worker; which will allow us to transfer some appropriate spirit possession from him to Patmos when we return. Says King David: "as the Olivar de Barne species of the old husk will serve us for the Morning harvest with its fat percentage helping us to sustain the Shemesh fat of the new Sun to brandish winds that will hide the nocturnal haze of the waning moon. All as kings we have been baptized with oil in our solemnities, also coins traded in Kar to pay their benefits with the allegory of Yotam, in the Book of Judges to choose the king of the trees..., refusing the olive tree because it had to produce oil in the Menorah are the two tiny but large olive branches that illuminate the great temple of life. Now we will need it because the eleven days come before rescinding the cessation of Aramaic as a lost language, rather reimposing it as an entity of its channel with a gesture-light and space that hears or listens in repeated Aramaic oropharyngeal systems, and voices when lamenting in Hebrew happily the passages of the Torah with the same meaning and channeling source of the Pentateuch, to repast in the Barne species and transcend in its science together with its Katapausis phylogeny in the monastic cell of San Juan in Patmos next to Vernarth." Euridice kept giving atomic spouts and impulses at his feet to get to Gethsemane soon. Upon arrival, he insinuated how the Cherubim were pruning the Olive Trees next to the Hexagonal Birthright. Everyone was preparing for the olive tree festival in the Garden. He almost reached the end of King David's itchy speech among the Roses of Sharon, more than the cobbled one that a Cherub was replying to him so that nothing would waste being heard by his listeners on the Prow figurehead. It arrives and carries the odoriferous trans-essences in Astragalus, to begin with, intuitive adoration for each barefoot step that each petal and particle of its essence took, revering the base of the invested Messiah, reaching the perfect triangulation of balsamic acid and thorns with increased Aramaic of reviving the Barne Olive Grove Trail,



Paraps XXVIII

Mashiach of Judah V part

Miracle VI- Gethsemane / Maasefa

In this chapter preface, in particular, the revelation of three fundamental phases of the outcome of this chapter of Judah by the will of the god Aiónius in all real events and not, because the submithology that concerns us is of living relevance and is not experiment. Here Ezpatkul will enter Dóntiakul or prominent Augrum or Oro teeth turningScarabaeidaedemarcating the Vóreios Vóreios throughout the Horcondising region bilocating it in Encinas de Patmos borers, with such frenzy...!, that from there they would draw the strength of the north winds and the Olivos Barnea.

a) The subsequent phase after the Stable in Bethelem (Kafersuseh) will entail the neurochemical conformation of energies subtracted from visions of the stable, exclusively from the roof incontinenti of the intervention of the Cherubim with their four wings like the Lepidoptera (butterflies) incurring an original nexus messianic equipped with pheromonic sensitivity and chemical activation in the pollinations of bumblebees, bees, and wasps to regenerate the species of Olive Barnea consolidated the language and perpetuate it as a dialect of Messiah-Abba.

b) Phylogeny is subtracted from this phase itself as a relationship between species or taxa in general of tree species and wild plants. Although the term also appears in historical linguistics to refer to the classification of human languages ​​according to their common origin, the term is used primarily in its biological sense. The symbiosis of both interactions will intervene in the juxtaposition of "Joshua is born-dies in the interval" when he is born in the stable" but his analogy with Gethsemane and Golgotha, the two "G" will recreate the salvific miracle and anticipation of the Scourge that he will suffer but the Hexagonal Progeniture (Men and animal and insect species) will intervene with salvific action from the caves to rejoin the dry bones of Maasefa humanity. It also saves us from Shibboleth, identifying the members of a group in a kind of password) that appeals to changes in the use of phonetics in terms of difference and aspires to reorder social disagreements, caused by conflicts even of lost concomitant civilizations and their socio-cultural niche patrimonial, therefore from Aramaic as an anticipated signal thread of a beginning of communicative intention and preservation of messianic language)

c) The physical, mental, geophysical, and spiritual elemental energies will mutate the adherence of the Aramaic dialect with the pollen duct generated in the Barnea olive species, creating a relationship of chemical change in them deified in favor of a new "Bern of Vernarth" with the interaction of the isotope that will generate the inclusion of a proton that will mutate the chemistry of divination and connectivity with him (Heavenly Father-Abba in the Garden) in such a way that the methodological lines of anticipation will prosper on the night of the abduction by Sayones before being taken to the Lithostrotus to be flagellated to interpret the power of his gospel.

d) And for a consequent and emeritus synchronization of caverns in conjunction with dry bone Maasefa, triggering the awareness of the awakening of protection before, during, and after the events that occurred at the culmination of his death. This will delve into the three chemical sediments interacting with each other, the Aramaic language enchanting the univocal and eternal root to always have it in Gethsemane, the revelation of phylogeny as a determining entity for the consolidation of the geophysical-animal world, and the transcendent soul that intervenes between the stars of the everlasting creation on Crescent Moon eleven days earlier with Sun-Shemesh astonishingly at the debasement of the human species and all of its feelings of unconfessed loss of existence.

e) Experiencing and surviving indecisions and fears of recognition of exposing and externalizing the calls of caverns have allowed us to escape from threats, but from there towards a reverberation in the same tune of Calvary, in the sockets of a skull sheltering you to serve and look from the optics of shining with the flow of ears of wheat in your dreams. Gethsemane and Golgotha ​​are the set of double "G" that generates endo-trauma in the throat and in its global skeleton bone set wanting to revive the call of the Messiah, from the Neck of Heaven rising roughly up your throat, forever and for the Centuries. of the Centuries.

f) The plectrum led me to write this paradisiacal essay in this chapter (it is the same depressive unconsciousness of having a body already abandoned without a Soul, but in my own without understanding anything), this tends to describe how history teaches us that there are phenomena difficult to capture with certainty, the masque of extra mediumistic sensitivities emerging from where our conscience does not discover what spiritual power does canonically the intuitive divine exponential or the external machine of multiple systems of serial spirits that besiege us and show us their Ether and that rarely can we actually be able to enter them from deep inside from their activation data to our hyper cognition, and their level of travel leading us to abandon our abstraction.

They were all stationed on the northeast *****, Eurydice arrived with her essences full of little birds surrounding her, she could not hold them due to the invasion of these surprising birds. They were all sitting on the stones of the garden, they were all leaning their heads on the Svein Tzora stones. Says Vernarth: "The stone of Gethsemane", on grains and crystals they are soaked with spheres of the stone of the Mashiah. She showed them meekness in the face of the hardness that could be distinguished compared to limestone or clay, full of sedimentary grains that devastate igneous from where some voices of her holocaust were left over, compared to marrying corporeal materiality in the Aramaic syllable embedded in a stripped bustle and silent, of everything and little petulant organic element coexisting in its amorphous figure. This graphs the consonance with the demonstrations of passion for his followers by embedding himself in a stone with multiple and sharp cuts like taking out the atoms in a grenade with his law of 613 grains that are enough to stipule them and to break the lithosphere of the messianic referendum in his sacrificial law. in the lithostrotes. No barrier will stop us to overcome this lithosphere that separates us so coldly from the rebirth of a body that takes root beyond the cracks of Gethsemane since the olive trees grow on the same stones, pretending to be in a mansard. The will of destiny under a stone, admits arrogant worries to startle that "He was there, and his destiny condemned him", but "My Abba, if it is possible for this cup to pass from me; but let it not be as I want, but as You want...", equivalent to telling of stones for all the cups, as long as the will is of the Abba", thus the stones are lightened, and our pride weighs less than the subterranean immortality. Saint John says: "Which is agony, it is nothing more than holding in our dreams the heavy shadow of its burden. The stone does not fit through the interstices of dreams but its image weighing in the symbology of being part of it, more than all hailstorms being the scene of sin near the disciple family and their despondency that runs where a curtain circulates towards the Resurrection. The large drops are large grains of the pomegranate in the Via Dolorosa, being large stones falling from the universe rubbing against the Sun and the Moon, falling on Him as well. Today on this day that he confesses tribulation of an eternal night that he never clarified..., It will start to rain, interrupting itself for days running backward, since several syllables remained un catechized before rising from where the wind of Elijah called him Mashiach. Revered Mashiaj, always close to you jumping from the red sea such a pomegranate as the food of a Father between waves of his sea! Again we are in the celebration of Holy Week and we have thought it appropriate to write this work on the stone of Gethsemane with a gifted scene that was his arrest, caused by the petty betrayal of all the Treacherous in the world. Mashiah, lonely in his full youth of thirty-three years in Aramaic verses succumbing to the arms of his Abba, .. He takes him and wraps him in his arms to defend him from the darkness shedding blood and tears on a cracked stone, beyond the skies that predecessor grenades in his hands revealing will that surpasses the levels of being rescued more times. There is a bitter taste of fruit, of course, but it tastes like a red planting of the dry red rock that is not emanated from anything but that if it brings us the generous hand that ceases pain and affliction, that produces sweet sleep even having wrought iron entering through your carpals and tarsal feet. With the pantomime of our morbidity we stretch our arms on your crucified cross but without awareness of the ******* test of not experiencing the iron in our questioned soul, without crucified skin in the epidemic that the beast of punishment gave to his skin between screams and hoarse cries that if they slip towards him, rather under the acíbar of a hammered heartless glass inert and stone that runs towards the west looking for the voices of his pious mother. The sip of the sunset was ingested in the sadness of my life that begins to be reborn every time it was lost and lifeless without feeling it as mine. I sleep vigil on the flames of the stand in the stones of the fire, and I sleep because others will not wake me up on the edge that cuts my game in flames. What cowardly courage accumulating in a depersonalized spilled heart..., what hours will have to pass without feeling them to date the entrance into his body of burning iron towards the sacrifice and not the sacrifice. "Let it continue here in this pebble with the shape that bears fruit because it will not burst with impatience, but rather with tears of pomegranate grains." What stronger aloe than seven days in a row turning to my usual sweetness sin to finish them abandoned without savoring it. For the first time since I returned from exile, I understand that his Aramaic smells like wisps of fruit and hundreds of syllables that are..., whipped like mega words that smell like his upright trunk in solitude and abandonment. Its trunk like mine is stone of tree bark, of vile whips lost in the frieze of its temple breaking its head bark, weeping its moans in full reconverted hopes of a hidden Ziziphus crown. They are nailed to a purple wisp of pomegranate, defeating the ailment of those who dared to martyr him in the pain that runs through his icy strata..., not sifted even by brave poor people; as it is to say by the voice of the wealthy spirit helping you. "Being prepared and No,

Maasefa Stone Powder: "You are made of stone and you will become stone" were the words of communion in Gethsemane of the stone of the Mashiach's prayer, indicating the expression of freedom and cessation of the oligarchy of belonging to the doctrine of the world of dimensional physical slavery, and its intertwined solidity of stones that the priests elaborated in the catacombs in times of consecration of loved ones towards a centile universe of Orthodox spirituality. Here are the stones carved like the Sanhedrin that met in the building known as the Hall of Carved Stones (Lishkat Ha-Gazith) for this purpose it will be the conservation of ossuaries of the high authorities and common citizens, having the prerogative of the Maasefa that has to consist of collecting the bones of all those reduced after a year in complete secrecy in the assigned catacombs. Through this immediacy of low and recondite spaces grows the vague wandering of precepting in approaching the salvific redemption awaiting the projection of the expired ancestors in the source of eternal life accepted by the Mashiach (Messiah), to shelter us in his illusion in beautiful brotherhood before to be resurrected. The Hexagonal Primogeniture would go by way of making the nucleus of nearby songs of the oratory of the orchard towards an honorable mention of elaborating concavities in the geology of the orchard, so that the alliance of the Aramaic verb of cloistering and devotion of the members in each stony cell, and the explosion of the Aramaic verb speaking infinitely of the Father-Son analogy. In such a way that translucent particles will be spread by the rhizomes of the Olivos Barnea species; deriving to Bern for the posthumous tribute of Vernarth considered Champion of conservation and cenacle of living and extinct organic bones, such as the aforementioned case of the Apostle before gathering as elemental dust of Joshua's Maasefa prior to the completion of the withdrawal of the Garden of Gethsemane. Shofar, sistrum, harp, and cymbals resonate for the wise night and its star sign before starting the excavation works in the nearby veins to conclude the Maasefa. They all sleep together that night touching each other's heels in the matrix phase to start a day with the strength of the stonework from left to right for the allegory of the Menorah that never leaves the magnetized night. They rise at twenty minutes to four to begin the ritual, an hour and a half before sunrise they were in the stratum of purple dawn on layers of divinity tinged with the conscious subtlety of the creator in our levitating being. Its consequences arise before their bodies continue to evolve towards the hegemonic process on the stratum of the nascent mineralogy that was going to intervene, being oratory of the Mashiach or synchronic Messiah. Beneath it, Vernarth would begin to pierce looking for the dimensional spaces of the search for his physiognomic extension adaptable to everyone's and evolutionary memory that separated the entrance of the Shemash and Selene over the glasses waiting to be filled and drunk at noon. Eleven days before the Ekadashi (full moon) began. Thus, in this way, they would sculpt the poked catacomb in twelve simultaneous rocks that were in a perfect limbic diametral circle of the plotline of the orchard with their physical displacements in congruence with the moon and consciousness that agrees with it, like that alert of that fateful night in which was kidnapped. In perfection with the oscillating vibration that is expanding in front of the dorsal cold of the stone analogically when the Mashiach vibrated in physical magnitude and in the absence of alert, more emotional if after talking with his Abba. The tremulous line she encompassed was widely displaced further since she was transported into the Edicule isotope as an element of flight, escape, detonation and resignation, being able to find nature configured in the fuss of a great variety of isotopes of different mass. the one in a large part will exceed in the cumulative gasified reaction, and in cathartic events that will occur at fifteen o'clock on Good Friday when the prophetic events and the mischievous changes of evidence of the cataclysm expire on the cross and hands. The eclipsed sun, storm with depressing losses, and tragedy for a world that will sleep more than seventeen hundred years to the right create the consciousness of being in more than two conscious places, with the minimum and childish aspect of the remaining second that is divided between the before and after the physical and physiological abandonment, beginning a final episode and conclusive torment that precedes a culminating beginning. All this transformation of the enclave and energetic dimension allowed them to synchronously pierce the sedimented rocks that were thus sustained in the timid energy, generating higher will field electromagnetism. Thus, in the sinkholes, everyone was drilling, they would be of the same mass category as the isotopes to manifest the energy and its dynamic charge, such an occlusive energy mass that would explode on the day of Golgotha's martyrdom. Preceding this energy phenomenon underlies the symmetry of the magnetic field created synchronously with words emitted in comparative Aramaic words with reminiscences that must serve in the twelve caverns of the garden in conversions and exchanges of exhalations of bees, bumblebees, and wasps of the curved universe that transits in the explosiveness of the lines that approach the dislocation ratio of the vibrations and their sound frequencies. Globally pollination as a genetic element of the fresh chlorophyll macerated as kinetics in elytra of Lepidoptera with the indications of connecting the clan with the aforementioned electromagnetic energies. The interaction of the fields within the system will be induced between Golgotha ​​and Gethsemane, they will establish here electric charges that will produce gases and liquids that will intervene in the entire lithosphere that unites both portions of soils, this created the interaction of particles establishing the undermining of rocks with basin-shaped Calota de Calavera, due to the geological conformation of the radius that surrounds both predicted areas. From this standard, the caverns will be improvised in the garden, magnetizing the vibration areas that depend on each other. The search Interrelates a magnetic and electrical phenomenon between both zones; the impulse to anticipate the premonitions of the Mashiach is derived, and how he was going to endure such torments towards his illustrious body in such a way as to retransmit it electromagnetically between the transmission bridge of the Garden and admission to Golgotha. This will unleash all subsequent supernatural and geological phenomena during the day of his torment and delicacy that will be glimpsed by decree of an execution damaged humanity exposed to orthodox fanaticism, causing a sensitive correspondence between the transmission of faith and the dogma of attending to the work physical and mystical legacy to protect for successive generations in the species Berna Olivar, ratifying correlation of the majestic and axiomatic cultivation of preservation under the catacombs and unalterable progeny of concelebrations of the eternal relation of a coalition of prosapia united to the shock and conscience of Christian Eternity. This gravitational potential energy will associate the Aramaic multi-effect towards all the attendees to confer, dialogue, assimilate and consent towards a supra lingual organic and historical heritage dynamic channel, on the basis of a monumental act of consanguinity in front of all will, "Here are all alphas over omegas." Creating complex harmonic movements between the caverns of impiety, but with a perfect and renovating equation with the redeemed Prayer in Aramaic towards the universe in quasi-face-to-face degrees, but not verifiable until the ritual of saving prayer is concluded. The chain reaction of this divine particle will be the opposite reaction tax of the active consolidation work area tensioned between the pilasters, Golgotha ​​and Gethsemane, both are started with "G" and if you turn it in any direction surrounding it you make a perfect skull of no more than twelve kilometers, whose distance in a direct line would certainly be crossing the eternal vision through ocular concavities, demonstrating levels of analogy and esoteric analysis. The extended reciprocity and supra value of divine consciousness are latent, from where the emission of the word and the will is born "the Calota or head skeleton" in the sense of reduced material and the corpuscle of antimatter that would come to be where the universes intersect in the elite of direct mercy (one has already happened, but another sphere of the difficult concavity has yet to travel..., only a Messiah will have to cross it when it returns to us again). This Eclipse of the Messiah of the Sun is a dark aspect of anemic light, torment, and three Maries, vindicating itself in this token of superficial passion in the Garden and antimatter rooted in the anti-particle, which evades this great event by lavishing its blessed spiritual figure with a charge of ambivalent theological antimatter; of egregious trust and bipartite univocity but fainting for the dark mercy on Golgotha ​​and light in the Garden of Gethsemane. "His body trembling and the Earth also" Shibboleth was getting up to distinguish members of a group such as the tribe of Ephraim, whose dialect lacked a sound (S), unlike others such as the Gileadites, whose dialect did include it. Shibboleth is a spike and also celebrates the fertility of the wheat crops and all concomitant species of the natural and endemic species of central Judah. And the Gileadites took the fords of the Jordan River to Ephraim, and when one of Ephraim who had fled said, Shall I cross over? The Gilead asked him, Are you an Ephraimite? If he answered no, then they told him: Well say "shibboleth". And he said shibboleth because he couldn't pronounce that luck. Then they laid hands on him and cut his throat. And so died forty-two thousand of those of Ephraim. however renewing when released by the contending magnetic forces that made Virola a whole that surrounds Gethsemane and Golgotha ​​as a magnetized tunnel of great mystical conversion for purposes of adaptability and preservation of renewed fertilizations of bumblebees, bees, and wasps in view of a commonwealth conforming and spreading in all spheres of faith and apotheosis from the pre-act of the Messiah's refuge to the judgment and punishment of his truth. After expunging their scourge in a dazed journey, they will fall with great similarity to the verb "Betrays and Forgives", the Universe in its creation renews everything, because that is how it has been written since the beginning of the Universe and by whoever dictated it." Shibboleth, will reconcile differences of understanding without prejudice and differences of geographical, anthropological, lingual mentions, cultural and divine verticals. "Our informal culture is preserved within village houses by resisting the scourge of victorious death, within the cave that protects us in its infinite mercy and commiseration" Maasefa and The Valley of Dry Bones collide at the appointed time the Svein Tzora, "the flintstones", to kindle the fire of the Messiah. The thunder was such that it made the seas decant for rivers and thunder on the terraces of the houses and fire on the banks of each unfulfilled prayer! Everyone gets up, each one leaving each cave of his ordeal, and goes to the meeting of the Dry Bones. The tradition of gathering the bony componential that has no soul all deviates towards the request of the flesh for its soul. As the account of the Prophet Ezekiel, five hundred years BC There are many outstanding remains of bones, this would resume in Gethsemane for the offspring of the Messiah's son caste, the Cherubim with the Lepidoptera twenty meters from the Svein Tzora donating light and heat to begin the ritual of dim moonlight. It is already a crescent moon and dim green lights shine through the beautiful dim green branches that light up the dry land of the beloved orchard on the face of the wasteland Calvary. The advantageous meats that began to butcher the bones raised the desire to start ultra fast in the oropharyngeal area, to endow solemnity and fulfillment of the prophecy of the sacred language of the Aramaic lingual group in tune with the vibrations of sound waves of the wind in romance with the blows of the fire towards their faces. In this way, the spirit of Jehovah was adhered to reunite the primary words of reunion of the edicts of Bethhelem, with the visions of Joshua so that the stable in its language emits the immortal edict from the very stable Kafersuseh to Gethsemane. Now everything was holy energy in union with the lands that made the compost fertile and his word was fulfilled, The valley of olive trees was reconverted and prayed complacency, everyone tried in the attachment of clan and twilight in the accidentality of the event, the new reason will not deprive of anointing the past-present in the realization of the joy of remains with bones, of laughter with laughter, of a patriarch with veterans, of offspring with their offspring, with the greatest thing than a hand covered with a great spirit over a valley where only distensions and candles should fit in each one of them. with Joshua's visions for the stable in his language to issue the immortal edict from the very stable Kafersuseh to Gethsemane. Now everything was holy energy in union with the lands that made the compost fertile and his word was fulfilled.



Paraps XXIX

Mashiach of Judah VI part

Miracle VII- Gethsemane / Meshuva Basics

The kicks of the feet begin. The twelve Giga camels stand up with their paired toes beginning to peel off the fat deposits of the remaining six camels with hoofed nails. They tore the epidermis with their fingernails to spread fat and oil into the lamps of light they need to distribute from the Full Moon in each palm of each component. The moon was in cacophony, it walked everywhere and imagined itself in the court of King David, drowsing in cubicles at the first light of the second sleep in the morning. Undivided they walked in procession through the source of the change in the socio-religious paradigm that kept them united, they were Raeder and Petrobus, Alikanto with a golden mount on his small back, the Lepidoptera, bumblebees, bees, and wasps, they tiptoed silently over the first level of damp wind at dawn, many of them perched on the backs of immune camels to ride with them to the reestablished Gethsemane starting point. In their phylogeny they collaterally impute the taxonomy that belongs to the camelid genus, which is a taxonomic category that is located between the family of Judah and the Middle East in the buried ecclesiastical species; thus, a genus of a group of organisms is propitiated, which in turn can be divided into several species. As ungulates as well as strictly herbivores, their musculature differs from other proboscideans in that the legs are attached to the body only at the upper thigh, instead of being connected from the knee up by skin and muscle, therefore it will be very easy for them to connect with flying insects so that they do not have to kneel. While the six sectioned the tanks of another six, and so they will continue to be stationed and intervened until their superficial wounds heal before leaving for the return to the port of Jaffa. On this long journey until dawn, they must stand on their footpads to resist the final farewell cult of the twelve caves, as they emerge from the placental sites they had developed with the Primogen to empower the vestigial area of ​​the rescued Aramaic word. This will be to grant and scale prosperity by having the signs of vitality intertwined, with each reminiscence of calls and responses of messages for the "Propitius Esto Humanity" that is projected in the secular future. This will be generated by external stimulation each time the intention to communicate with the ceremonial of existence-life-deaths-fullness is presented, thus the voice of the greatest incisive devotional forces will resemble, grabbing or grabbing the smallest voices that can even be overlooked or not understood when the Golden Gate of Jerusalem is inaugurated. From the very top, the Gigas species can be seen walking with six candlesticks, these species cross their artiodactyl locomotion towards a fluctuate on the flames of the candlesticks towards the rock of Mashiaj. While the other camels were recovering from their wounds, they looked with their calm eyes and were very aware of the proselytizing nunciature that channeled the reactions of the Hexagonal Progeniture, thus being absolved of the commitment of the prayers for the new launch with the atmospheric ordering ceremony in Getsemaní with the voices of the Messiah, with the framework, volume, and reverberation to flood with light and sounds in all the geographical areas that have not had a subscription. As the Giants trod the grounds with their hoofed nails, Vernarth and Alikanto, Saint John the Apostle, King David, Eurydice, Raeder, and Petrobus (The Hexagonal Primogeniture), made solemn vows before such an episode. It was not long before dawn and even Selene disputed with other stars of the envelope to shine more for such a great event..., as it is surprising at the moment that everything would seem of stillness and gestation of winged embryos appearing from the top of the Bern Olive trees near the Cherubs. They came with the Mashiaj who brought them new charities..., he could be seen in a deep field in two light bulbs of his white tunic, full of gold and blue lace, with Lepidoptera around him throughout the journey distilling crimson celestial radiosities.  Meshuva white cloak descended through the fronds of the olive trees lit and previously illuminated by the northeast ***** of the orchard, the Cherubim and Archangel Miguel and Gabriel came with decided parallelism by six-folding the interpretations expressed by the Lepidoptera, for the purpose of consolidating the institution of the north side of Gethsemane as a sanctified area of ​​Aramaic prayer and devotion of absolute naturalization of the classification of the Cherubim and Lepidoptera as winged tetras and Cultivators of the phylogenetic transmission of the pollen-orchard on the opening of the gynaeceum of the Olivo Berna, in the Valley of the Olives, and taxonomic choice by hierarchical order of the species and geo-referencing of the asteroseismic corridor of the narrow pass between Bethhelem and Gethsemane. On the tops of the olive trees were the Cherubim and the Lepidoptera, they fluttered through the flowery ramifications intertwined with the Messiah's tunic that came descending with an accent of graceful Torah, then the dawn of pre-dawn fireflies re-blooms on his face..., they brought a million beams of another thousand groups of beams to be born among the first luminaries of the day. The Lepidoptera ascended through an oval interval and in a spiral path through the petiole until the fifth generation of Rapa or Eskimo with forty flowers with four white petals in phylogenetic synchrony with Cherubim and Lepidoptera with four elementary portions to deliver the fundamental membrane that will generate the physiognomy of the Messiah between the transposed ones, and blond, ruddy lights of the Messiah's face with the cross-like texture of themselves on their shoulders of Capernaum dew. The Esquimo or the flowers would grow in clusters of between ten to forty flowers in perfect series depending on the variety, each flower would also have four white petals, a little pulpy facing each other in a symmetrical cross, and the flower will bring in the center an orange-yellow hue of an arboreal sphinx that would be filled with clusters that will transform the appearance of the oil-bearing tree, giving white brushstrokes to the olive grove before stingy gallantry glances. Each flower will supper from its captive pollen for approximately one week, so the flowering phase of the olive trees will turn before a brief duration, but of a messianic lapse with the cyclical lives of their idyllic Syriac Aramean. The female and hermaphrodite caste will bring you the biblical universal pollen with tremulous stamens and surcharged pistils traveling more than nine and a half kilometers from Bethlehem of the "Kafersuseh" to the orchard. Before the majestic pollination, the archangels Michael and Gabriel will invade two percent of the gynoecium of the flowers, giving way to the Meshuva candid cloak, full of white apotheosis petals. Vernarth rushes to the ground and rolls around between the petals filling his entire body and face with thousands of them, leaving many of them transfigured in the oily fruit of the Palate Universe between the ring finger and the index finger with an accent of Purification of the Mikveh, floating like neutron orbit of Life and Micro Universe only to be entranced by the presence of the Messiah in his white robe of petals.  Coming down with Bernese Petals strawberry trees in his white tunic, the Mashiach rushes to Vernarth, takes him, and tells him secretly: floating like neutron orbit of Life and Micro Universe only to be entranced by the presence of the Messiah in his white robe of petals. Coming down with Bernese Petals strawberry trees in his white tunic, the Mashiach rushes to Vernarth, takes him, and tells him secretly:

Mashiah: "Only you..., in each one of these white cells you are..., and in those that you are not in my remembrance, it is reborn as the fruit of the Bern Olive Tree. Over the cup of this species I heard your prayer, I know who you are and gratitude for resisting this lymphoma so nobly, I took it out of your soul when it was confused with the fresh breeze of the grass that feeds the fungi of pain. Immerse yourself in this Mikveh of columns of white petals from Bern, here the voices and words of Aramaic will run in a row to the right to sip white in my thoughts of the Gospel, with your miraculous grace by returning to me John the Apostle being exiled by Domitian. Come to me walking on this unleavened bread with Bern olive elixir and let's drink Hanukkah wine and its vital dawn that boils with each sip of the glandular thymus and your sore chest in between. I am tired, I come from far away, but I have taken this road from Emmaus to lift you up. Arise and come to My Vernarth." Vernarth erects his purified column with the petals emulating the Mikve "Purification", he predisposes himself to the Holy path of the Meshuva "Return to God". So from today Vernarth is born and revives to continue his journey back to Patmos. Mashiah says: "The why of the naive deviation will **** them and the complacency of the fools will destroy them. Your own wickedness will correct you, and your apostasies will rebuke you; Know therefore and see that it is evil and bitter that you should forsake the Lord your God, and the fear of me be not in you." Vernarth says: "We will be loyal and under these leafy trees Bern I will proclaim to the north saying; that we walk towards merciful fidelity and declare all together! We know that  My Lord will heal us of our infidelity, that is why we have come here because You are our Lord God." St. John the Apostle replies: "The lion, wolf, leopard, will **** us, destroy us and tear us to pieces because transgressions and apostasies have invaded in great numbers..., my beloved Mashiach, we have already got rid of the deception and we want the Meshuva back to your ether. of the accomplice desert with the aromas of the flying weevils that the Aramaic lexicons bring us from Kafersesuh to re-graft them into the eternity of your word that crosses the entire universe. The world has sinned against you, the apostasies are innumerable, and we are here to lovingly honor your name. So my people were determined to push me away even though they call them to the Highest, none at all exalts him. I will heal his apostasy, I will love them freely because my anger has departed from them" The Garden was eclipsed by the cardinal points, it was delineated by a Cherub from South to North, for the main border that passed through the zenith where the Mashiach would order the promontory of the dependent rock of the placental rocks that coexist with the twelve inhabitants who had erected them with their eyes closed and opened by the light of Faith. The border that Vernarth and the Apostle nominally saw, was connected with the new division of the world of the stagnant word, and in the new route, it revived in a perfect cross from west to east towards the paleo trill of the Palestinian Eagles loaded with incense and sawdust from the felled Olive Tree for the furniture that they used as input in the lavish boasts of the Romans. The magnetized needle will crack the back of each of the members,"O Kýrios tha epistrépsei se mas, tis rízes tou Kósmou, ópou krémetai ta skoupídia tou" (The Lord will return to us the roots of the World, where its concrete debris hangs). Then this voice takes from the inconcrete state, aligning the excellence of the north of the Messiah, together with the iron of the blood plasma of Vernarth and the Apostle to be magnetized towards the north in the sublime magnetized cardinal. Shemesh-Sun King order of cardinal parallelism is thus established; north: north or boreal ruled by Vernarth and Saint John the Apostle, South: Meridian or Austral by Etréstles and Eurydice, East: East, rising or rising ruled by Raeder and King David West: West or West. In this way, the insects and animals, declaimed the sunrise of the Sun to the Levant before each cup of the Chalice synchronous with the intercession of the cross to the tangential of the horizontal that extends to the west when both phases of the solar cycle are aligned with the departure of the Bread and discharge of the Messiah from his time in the cloister. The Alikantus and Petrobus animals will be ruled by the Northeast and Northwest, while the flying insects will be ruled by the Southeast and Southwest.

Etymological ellipsis of Ancient Nordic Civilizations: The east-west perimeter is considered as the axis of the abscissas in a geographic coordinate system, the axis of the ordinates would be described by the north-south line, which corresponds to the axis of terrestrial rotation. This composition generates four angles of ninety degrees that in turn are divided by the bisectors generating northwest, southwest, northeast, and southeast. Thus the Rose of the Winds is demarcated by the Esquimo del Olivo flower in perfect harmony with the circumference of the horizon. This will attract the lines that intersect verbally and non-verbally, by the abscissa that delineates the guideline of the Rock of the Messiah overflowing with total generosity to shine in the caves at dawn, to sprinkle them with the rays that they lack due to the supposed static latitude. In order to parody the line of the lethality of the Norse Gods by being tangential to this new alignment of the earth axis and laterality coordination, only through the Apples of Asynjur can they hope to revive until the final destiny of the Gods. This Nordic parallelism goes back to us in the chapter Vernarth Chapter II - Animal of War in Tel Gomel, where Asgard is mentioned, which in Norse mythology is the one conceived on earth, it is a rainbow bridge, Bifrost, which connects it with the paradise. This etymology will cross the genesis of the plotline of the entire Hellenic epic in the first chapters until it is reiterated here in this Messianic epic with the demarcation of the limits in Gethsemane, that marks the guideline that intersects the exact point of the Aramean Prayer Rock for the diction of the words and cosmogonic interrelationships of cultures and the sparkling use of the atavistic language before the year 332 BC and even after, to project with the temporal line of the regressive line of parapsychology after 1820, in the Spanish Revolution of this same work. This demarcation has intertextuality in coordinates of time-history, to make this unpublished Gethsemane map the timelessness of archaic civilizations, which have applauded and venerated all cycles of life and fall under the same precept of cardinal laterality, acclaiming a God who he flowed and created the North whether he lives or agonizes, but if he wants to revive he will have to come to his threshold of quantum departure "The Garden of Gethsemane" to be projected with the timeline of the regressive line of parapsychology after 1820, in the Spanish Revolution of this same work. This demarcation has intertextuality in coordinates of time-history, to make this unpublished Gethsemane map the timelessness of archaic civilizations, which have applauded and venerated all cycles of life and fall under the same precept of cardinal laterality, acclaiming a God who he flowed and created the North whether he lives or agonizes, but if he wants to revive he will have to come to his threshold of quantum departure "The Garden of Gethsemane" to be projected with the timeline of the regressive line of parapsychology after 1820, in the Spanish Revolution of this same work. This demarcation has intertextuality in coordinates of time-history, to make this unpublished Gethsemane map the timelessness of archaic civilizations, which have applauded and venerated all cycles of life and fall under the same precept of cardinal laterality, acclaiming a God who he flowed and created the North whether he lives or agonizes, but if he wants to revive he will have to come to his threshold of quantum departure "The Garden of Gethsemane"



Gaugamela

Palace of the Camelids

The roosters of Persepolis sing again. Its disloyal resonances and deadly gloom came from seventy kilometers from the Iranian city of Shiraz, province of Fars, near the place where the Pulwar River empties into the Kur (Kyrus). The Rooster specters came mounted on the houses of the twelve Giga Camels..., recovered from the remaining six. They came to withdraw to take the path to Jaffa. The House of Camels began as preservatives of the immunity required to be in accordance with the sanitary ellipticals and adaptation to the exit of Judah. They were bound for the hemicycle of the Lepidoptera consorts united with the specter camels Giga and the Early Birds that will give the first row in the game of the Primogen, after seven weeks in Judah. Knowing that the phylogeny of Animalia is of wide versatility of this super being of the desert Animalia that will agree on the departure of all and repatriation of the hexagonal Primogen except King David who will enter the Celestial cenotaph in Jerusalem escorted by the Cherubim. From Tel Gomel came reverberations of sonorizations of the last metallic rattles of swords and howls of Macedonian infantrymen colliding with each other with their pernicious weapons. While these screams reverberate like an anvil falling at ninety degrees on hailed pieces of perspective of the Achaemenides..., their families already had to say goodbye to their family plains, since many lost their souls cracked from inhaled mutilating curses. Today a miraculous event would occur from the high sky a Dorus Hetairoi would fall that came flaming with fire. And from the northwest side, a Sarissa spear fell that intercepted in the immediate vicinity of Joshua's stone-forming neat Cross lit with the brightest star. It was nothing less than the vehement fire of Meshuva that brought with it drops of water from the Jordan with the Image of the Baptist, to make the hierarchical gravitation on the ponies of the Camels that at this point had all the dominance of the plague of the sufferings that They could cause a great impact on the twelve camels due to an endemic outbreak as a result of some leprosy in the surrounding area, causing higher contagions to those who ride them. The panorama was one of total rhetoric consonant with Tel Gomel, "Gaugamela Palace of the Camels". This paradox came to resent the reciprocity of magnificence of these camelids in the perfect analogy with Gethsemane, for this purpose to agree with the ghosts of Shiraz shortly before the great battle of Gaugamela began in 332 BC. C. equating the lands arranged before the plantar areas where these divine species continued to bring the sense of war around sensitized, converted into battering rams of mustangs crossing the auscultated portals of the Garden in an agony of interlude. Over the soft roar of Tel Gomel came maidens in white tulle with semi-cross dresses, serene and chaste from the plain of the Palace of India were the wives who married the commanders of Alexander the Great. They were from the war lineage that also came to concelebrate the farewell of the Animalia and Hexagonal Primogeniture. Today the seven miracles come together in a perfect line of the Apeiron, which of all things identifies this first principle with the "indefinite" or "unlimited." Considering that the constitutive principle of things was the Apeiron, which is neither water, nor earth, nor fire, nor air; It has no concrete form, it is infinite. The cosmos is born, develops, and perishes within that "ápeiron" in Gethsemane. This existential infinity of the beginning of the world is born from this feat in Gethsemane, affirming that only this immaterial element nor any other of the so-called elements will bring the ápeiron nature of the Garden in flames of love from which all the heavens and elements that are in them are generated in Gethsemane renewed towards the infinity of love of Joshua. Now, starting from where there is a rebirth for things, reconstructive destruction is also produced there, giving rise to needs; in fact, they pay each other by blaming and retributing for their injustice according to the disposition of time speaking of these things in rather pastoral terms, these maidens come in their feathered chariots from Sisellas of Tel Gomel for the blessed ones who club the underground of Tel Gomel and Bumodos, among cosmic rinsings of the Apeiron of the Messiah beyond its origin in the Kafersuseh (many births under a single great multivalent spirit among thousands of stables of origin and powers of Dimensional Beams, where the master lord worships from the trapeze hanging from beam to beam). The fireflies, bumblebees, bees, and wasps, resemble the profiles of the hollows and hills that were hidden before the figure of all this nascent profane world, more grandiloquent than migrating and fitting the engineering of the great beams that support the structural sky predominantly on supine and flexion. The World, after decompressing, dragged the linear orographic cords of Gethsemane, puncturing the cords of the rocks and its messianic average lithosphere, in this way it opened twisting in the inertia that toward the rock puckered a fist of guidelines that distilled in later moments and of adaptation of the inertia to adapt with the dynamics of the Aramaic emerging from the mouth of all the olive trees Bern after yawn and slime of trapped dust. Vernarth says: "With my Xiphos I will establish life beyond the burning of wounds, come worms to snack on your meat Hoplites, come now..."I am Hetairoi..." and I usually die several times over the worst pains in the jaws of ambrosia with Hestia but I do not tolerate that others suffer pain beyond my control. In the minutes that the horns of the wind besiege, the living Garden of the jailer will be freed from us, constrained to uncover the insidious and opaque sphere of solitary confinement, that deprives us of knowledge even being embarrassed about the same death and not attentive to it that blooms on the plethoric thorns of Saracen alcohol" On gigantic dimensions, the insects copulate the shadows directed on the shadows of the Giant Camels thus beginning the departure of the Aramaic Huerto converted into the new palace of the Animalia, despite contending pretense of pollen on each particle of the Mashiach's concretions now on the platform of the Palace of the Camelids and on the Holy hummus of the Garden of Gethsemane. The Apostle Saint John says: "anxious urges to go to the other side of the evocation and have to look at other tree species with water from the universe that irrigates the world in the swamp"... He appears sitting on his golden Petrobus cloud with Raeder... Raeder says: "I will go with miraculous airs and terrified of themselves of our own miracles, bathed in the water from the flow and from the head of Petrobus, we will supply water where there is none, but he has no mention, only the instinct of those who need him. I have to hang myself from his Jade Ferrules that carry his web-footed legs. Now is the time to continue at some point in the line of the twelve ungulates after these seven weeks in Judah" Eurydice intervenes: "I will get on the camels and talk with them about why the line that leads us will never separate from Gethsemane. We know that we have to return from Jaffa to Limassol to remove the Mariano gold medallion that was bathed in the bottom, and that Procorus awaits us immersed in the aroma of the Garden. I keep a crack in my heart where a Bern Olive tree grows, and that of its sprouts that are populating the houses of Skalá and the heights of Patmos" King David: "I will proclaim over the baptismal airs, and that the ghosts of Shiraz will raise Olive trees from the balusters of the avenues of Berna, to raise the props of passageways that lead to the heights of Agamemnon creating the kingdom of Mycenae in mythology that will propitiate the sovereignty of all of Argos. This was ingested all of a sudden in the triad of the Hebrew, Aramaic, and Hellenic worldview, to triumph over the excess of external knowledge that they had and will have to be kept in my cenotaph full of wandering aromatic weevils" Etréstles states: "the emanations of the Sun and progression of other suns will always be the adjective that will make us be part of every particle of land here in the Garden, Messolonghi, Limassol, Rhodes, and Patmos.

Also after this episode appears Campaspe, one of Alexander the Great's concubines. She came on behalf of all the maidens and concubines who were betrothed to their commanders in India. The beauty of this noblewoman is renowned. Campaspe says: "We were all going to be Sovereigns, but the face of expiration was always in front of the Commanders of Alexander the Great. The outfits we wore were only black and had scents from Palacios de Gaugamela. The cold that is born from another leads me to possess those of others that are not the ones that bring me here. I was given into the hands of a painter who portrayed me but the true meaning of the warm mustard lands of Gaugamela is in the heat of the wasteful pleasure of the solitude of spaces, there is no greater striking and curative good than the one that has come from Vernarth to Tel Gomel, paraphrasing the sensuality and sadness that continues to manifest here in the hovering hoofed hands of the ghosts of Shiraz, bringing to greater confusion to unite all the forces of the world for all the blood that has not been emancipated or renamed" The gray mist of the Garden on gum resin mourns, the insects moan the test of the triangulated pollen that Campaspe disseminates in its nascent genome, and the twelve camels begin to turn on themselves along with their insulting long and prolonged snores. The hillsides snort in procreation in the whistles of the fresh air disputing the attire of the Bern Olive Trees that ebb from the elongated bands of their white dresses *******. The Mashiach was leaving between the gray strips of naked nubiles. The weevils followed him out of the caves of the previous character of Golgotha, and the Lepidoptera emitted voices in ancient Aramaic similar to the event of Bethany in the hands of Lazarus contracted to immortalities in the shreds of his shroud turning green in the hardened olives in an epitaph never chanted. Gethsemane became a mezzanine scale of Persian architecture, but of a channel of the affront of a high premium measure, Mashiach in each of the four wings of the Lepidoptera and Cherubim, frolicking in the emulsion of the phrases exuded by the aerial rounds of the insects that were compressing the new cycle of language, together with the candle overflowing with pearlescent matches running through the thin flannels of the Mashiach's farewell together with the foamy secretion of the Olive Tree and with the dominant beam of Kafersesuh. Vernarth and the Apostle close their eyes already mounted on the camelids, they take a slow walk on the mezzanine that suggested walking through rocks and desert lands. Everyone was already mounted on each of the Giga camels, leaving Gethsemane flooded with insects, birds, and blades, clouds of Pollen over the fumaroles of the quantum.



Paraps  ***

Ghosts from Shiraz to Jaffa

VII part -Mashiach of Judah Miracle VIII

They leave Jerusalem with the mountebanks of Shiraz, they were ghosts of the plectrum, the wine, the roses, and the fireflies sleight the path of the twelve camels until the intersection with the Cenotaph where King David will stay with the Cherubs of Kafersesuh. They were Epi ghosts that basked in the footsteps of the camelids. They went in the cessations of the bent nails and plants of the areas of the marquee of the other four ghosts that accompanied him. They were tightrope walkers with water wheels of wheel balances with tutelary ropes, some with a stilt of opprobrium from the monetary wealth of Judas Iscariot and the last propelled by a caper that governed all the others on the wings of the Fireflies. Removed from the road that leads to the Kidron valley falls on them all two thousand five hundred years with clay tablets from Persepolis, they were phonetized with the plaintive nightmare of the tortuous poem of Tirazis; which is currently Shiraz in this way these ghosts escorted the Hexagonal Primogen, they were exiled from their ghostly cities for not paying the tribute of obedience to destroy and rebuild. When they began to be with them in the cove, the acrobat ghosts were seething with the desire to prevent everyone from being saddened by the party from the orchard that was falling further and further behind their footsteps, dancing with their pirouettes along the way, telling little stories in their ears. of the travelers. which is currently Shiraz in this way these ghosts escorted the Hexagonal Primogen, they were exiled from their ghostly cities for not paying the tribute of obedience to destroy and rebuild. When they began to be with them in the cove, the acrobat ghosts were seething with the desire to prevent everyone from being saddened by the party from the orchard that was falling further and further behind their footsteps, dancing with their pirouettes along the way, telling little stories in their ears. of the travelers. which is currently Shiraz in this way these ghosts escorted the Hexagonal Primogen, they were exiled from their ghostly cities for not paying the tribute of obedience to destroy and rebuild. When they began to be with them in the cove, the acrobat ghosts were seething with the desire to prevent everyone from being saddened by the party from the orchard that was falling further and further behind their footsteps, dancing with their pirouettes along the way, telling little stories in their ears. of the travelers.

Hydro Saltimbanqui: "I come from Roknabad (also known as Aub-e Rokní), an underground canal that brings spring water to the city from a mountain ten kilometers northeast of Shiraz. Here I have to mend propellers and water ropes to do my acrobatics on the water with general songs from the poems of the Poet Hafiz. When we bite our tongues we repair it with the verses of Hafiz's Koran, there are three hundred creeds, three hundred hectares to irrigate with my wheel the sadness of those who cannot have the gifts of the rivalry of Black Mount and White Mount to overestimate the vividness of the caravan that trembles with uncertain doubts on the way to Jaffa" Saltimbanqui de Báscula utters: "We are Epi ghosts, greened in reverie with tutelary ropes to jump through the trapeze of photometric units of the heavy Almería of the highest Mirror of the Sea. Here we look from the same that will be boarded on the barge that will take them back to Limassol. Curiously, the same ship from Lepanto that sleeps in the swaying of the sea and arms of Anaximander in a new awakening from the lethargy of superstring theorizing, here is the intrinsic speculation of science since this is not only purely empirical research." Anaximander says: "First..., we do not have the agreement that string theory is not ultimately correct and in the future in some verifiable way. Second, we propose a purpose of the order of string theory that is necessary for science and its importance going even beyond the scientific to also project on the metaphysical and the religious, right here in this order of greater what to do attached to the string that leads me to Patmos. Saltimabanqui de Báscula responds: "metaphysical and religious legitimacy, here we are making knots in the tow rope that will inaugurate a new masonry in the verifiable futuristic gaze. Here is the original fiction of continuing to raise the necks of the ants above our optics. We will jump over these two ropes but we will fall on intervals of physical placental caves that were born from the neo-embryo in the Twelve Caves of Gethsemane in a late primordial germinal process. The micro phonetic vibrations will have to raise us above the hunger to continue and leave King David in his cenotaph gored on his hips by the Cherubim marking his holy horns that are confused by the blunting of the cuneiform scratches of his epigram. Between theoretical magic and exotically as associativity of substance causally of poetic song and multiverse, believing in the ghosts of Shiraz, such dreams injected to sublimate Aeneids that lamented in the stones of the bottom, even being independent of their material origin. Multi universes, multi paraphrase for those who have to adorn the word "Rosa with the noble long dress of him to the cliff of Ebdara when Vernarth acclaims his brother Etréstles, he comes with the Charioteer from Messolonghi. Rested and resolved to head for Tel Gomel, He comes with his horse Kanti to keep him company on this crusade. Kanti braved the Cliffs of Crete, and was subservient to Markos Botsaris, 1821 (Royal Hero of the Liberation of Greece in the Turkish Invasion, Koumeterium Messolonghi-Xlibris USA), until in the afternoon he approached from a herd of beautiful stallions to the. This was heard by Etréstles and he seized His horse to have more than a Life from His company, more than a lost lost aroma of His natural mother to reach the indicated one who treasures it". The ghosts attribute quantitative passages before leaving King David, and then proceeding to Jaffa and getting ahead of the ship back to Cyprus; Limassol. They were all hyperkinetic bowls leveraged by the terrain that went on the **** of the histrionic mountebank presaging contours of the temporary filigree that each one made them smile at the carriage with oxidizing wheels, still being immaterial beings but alive in their vapors of portent wading the serous bile that they emerged from the glasses in their allegories. They did not stop their footsteps or their phonetic figures undulating over the caravan that had already passed Jerusalem. The areas, volumes, and lengths were fully covered by the Ghosts of Shiraz, the mountebanks ran along the banks of Ramallah and it was winter, the city received them with winds and inclement weather from the southwest alternating with cold and dry winds from the northeast. The mountebanks went like master geometers to condone the fuss of the caravan by devising a dodexagesimal system. (Twelve Centuries of Ultra Nocturnal Geometry, and Shipwrecks in the Lighthouse of Alexandria).Positioning the number 12 as a base, to measure the times and angles that they needed to avoid the voluminous rains that lashed the caravan. Incredibly, the volumetric position of the plantar legs of the camels seemed like wheels that turned without stopping at any anti-circumferential radius, turning some clouds into a wicket that enclosed them like a quadrilateral of the flock of God in the high semicircle of the waters that pretended to fall as axiomatic staffs in the beard of Euclid tempering his elemental construction. The linear position of each of those who were mounted was a perfect ergonometric based on the Muladhara pressing four purple petals on pressing Vernarth's Achilles heel that was dimensioning the triangulation of Ramallah with the lichens that were housed in his sword Xiphos at the apex jet that carried the dodexagesimal cartography. In the same position, it seemed the Apostle Saint John carried the rosary in his left hand in geometry that stretched across his nose and feet in a thirsty adonis triangle of one hundred and twenty degrees of the sextant widening his spectrum to align with this Primogen. This is how the stars and planets are positioned in celestial spheres with the gravitation of the Olivos Bern revolutionizing curved and flat equations that intuited to go beyond the crossed pirouettes that the mountebanks did all along the road, even further than those on the withered oil road purposely unquestionable systems that the Ghosts of Shiraz intended to establish. Ghosts of Shiraz; These Persian Epi ghosts started from the axiom and ideal abstract entities relating models of austerity and lyricism that fluctuated in the lines and planes of movement of the clouds, with the counterpoint of the plantars of the Gigas leaving marks in the sand like Morse point, Vernarth diluted his bones to settle them near the tarsus and accommodate it at the end of the vertebra of the Muladhara (Chakra of 4 petals) making a sub-technical geometric function to preserve the plasmas of darkness that were also diluted to arrive at night near Jaffa in the surroundings of the isometric fire existing in each one and in two dimensions..., but being born from a common one. Raeder and Petrobus had their rims floating full of dusty and dense mania on their faces with rubber from shards that had been released from one of the stunts of one of the mountebanks when colliding with the basic postulates of the Ghosts of Shiraz, deducting spaces that undulated like snakes. within the isometric fire that dazzled them with white-hot humor of the last drops of the Shemesh codifying in absolute intuitive measure, more distant from any dimension that is Consciousness destroying planes and spaces that multiplied each other as members of another geometric conscious dimension. Arriving at the Ben Shemen crossing, everyone suffers collective hypnosis, the ghosts manage to embodied in each of the components of the Birthright but omit a great factor. They relegated the Hexagonality of the genetics of this caravan, the ghosts not knowing how to calculate the area once they were being intracorporeal within the members, thus having to leave before the last dislocated Shemesh ray threw the ashes of the Gehenna, for this supposed reason of leaving them condemned to recycle the human species for the purpose of reproducing sacred human beings, but being servile to whims beyond the immortality of the miscalculation that led them to Karim Khan's citadel, surprised with their image of thick stone walls and circular towers in the heart of Shiraz. This gave them a warrior aspect contrary to their fame and history: this was a city famous for two thousand years for its culture, with its gardens and its poets, now if in a plot by this beautiful odalisque trick that attracted the guide of the ecstatic and bilocated ghosts, in a bad moment of extradition towards a bad context of epi ghosts not yet defined in foci of apprentices boasting of laurels of weak and doubtful ideas that still swarmed within his white heart, trying to reach Vernarth's as a former Hetairoi commander, today turned into mystical servile. In such a way they are complicated as "Sufi" ghosts, being, in reality, the genetic spectrum of the double ax that carries the double-cut of today..., of the sacrament of Medea in Abdera. Pro says a ghost from Shiraz (embarrassed): "The Universe is a sea that longs for dry shores, without sea, and without other wet longings..., no possible maiden could Try to dry it with her hands of stars... Who calms the crying of the Universe ...even so..., a simile remains floating like a verse among his dreams" "How can I make of my dreams another dimension of the universe if he is silent and does not make me float in his sea...how can I make it possible for the points of his stars to fill the spaces that have revealed him...and that have made circular shores without a sea between fogs" "I walk alone and nobody sees me... I do not wake up in candles that smile and accompany me... between days that turn into mornings on the shores of the solitude of the universe, that nobody embraces him..." "Now the days tremble with almost falling on themselves, they come out alive from their own loneliness of satiety and fullness... of whoever appreciates them in the mist... being able to surrender in attentions in Ben Shemen".

Creating a sequence that bends the heads of the ghosts filling translucent physiognomies between a cold past and super frozen future, from a classic mechanic that from now on would depend on dice thrown by the Third Ghost of time. Here a relativism would be opened to those who want to see the past in the orchard in an unstable particulate present, leaving far from the splitting of both parts of the archetype of today as a subdivided clash of several times that allowed the remaining phantasmagorical specters to be integrated, taking over history on a plural axial axis that prevailed in the time of a supposed number line from a vector aligning itself towards the compass of distance, that shines between both hemispheres of the north and of the minutes that go to the right and the solid-gaseous seconds that almost burst in the walls of their own liberated beings. The four Shiraz ghosts had time differentials before this event with the caravan verifying the simultaneous strut between the two pairs of ghosts between four dissimilar but idyllic ones that made them here at this point be ignored and annulled between two relative nomenclatures of physical structure. The durability and classification of these micro-times of the epi-ghosts would make the database that Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth will accumulate with their eyes closed, each surpassing himself in the debatable areas that concern estimating the occupation of physical spaces in some of them at their consent so that one of them could embark to Limassol. This simultaneous and relativistic multi-active line encloses events and quadratures of spaces in the cinematographic space of parapsychological regression, such a link of physical images slowed down in evolutionary and cognitive memory, passing from the conduit of memorizing events to expectations and their set of absolute figures not pigeonholed but if approaching the universe in prehensile scales of those who value them. present and future more as a pattern of departure to the unique future "today" by space of spaces. This unified three-dimensionality would mark the mathematical space of the attempts towards the future of the adjoining camelids of the ghosts of Shiraz for ownership of time among all with a single identity that cries out for an unequivocal will to rearm, although the winds of the partition that separates The word of God and the believing observer towards the ***** with a believer from a historical past in obscurantism, leaving and entering a new world whose notion is to spend connected and handcuffed in dependent systematization with great causes, although the static feels isolated from the dynamic, asking it to unite with the ghosts and the others, even though they are inferior forces under the line of the generous gaze and parallelisms of the attentive viewer that suggests more openness received, delegating circumstances to all physical, emotional, spectral dimensions and mental-spiritual, flexing the hierarchical emotional states of night and day. They all fall asleep embraced in quilts and lamb saddlebags, making it possible for them to approach the Ghosts and sleep next to them, embracing each other with strength decanted from some frames that hang from their masks, showing the vibration of being favorite children of the Mashiach, absorbed in the Kidron Valley. Quadrupled and cloistered in self-consciousness scattered like an iceberg behind the submissive thoughts that aspire to be tied to more invaluable time. Our Abba has us more tied to an absolutist past and future, looking at his calendar divided in such a way that the day that strikes the shadows of an incisive past always fits so that it always smiles at us in the best light signal of who and with whom repair damage of varied wounds that travel through the times of times always hurt, to and from borders of a remote anachronistic. The ghosts are always tetra fast they are marginalized to the sound of greater acuity, fleeing in Rishon Lezion to wake up a little further from the rays of the stationary Sun that from now on always surfaced in the degraded eyes of the mountebank prowling around the fairs of those who know how to wait, to make a treat under the pretext of Faith and hope that exempts the Cardinal turned into a flower decorated in white. Shvil of the Angels; The fast epi phantom tetras were emaciated they lost their north and could not walk, they were energized by the radiosities of the earth that rules over those who lent divine graces if their feet rested on the tapestry of those who threw their footsteps at them in winter now near Jaffa. The Shvil Angels were angels who were on the route that cordons off the pilgrimage of Vernarth and Saint John the Apostle, they were full of flowery Bernese Olive Trees that served as floral arcades at the entrance to this thousand-year-old port. They were three, when they walked, they always spread out so fast that they seemed to be six but they ended up averaging the quantum of three for each of the components of the Birthright, which from today would be the great circumcision event of the Universe, to make it part of that one day they will have to dissipate the rhombuses of the fragmented beams of light on the way to the sky so high, in the name of the phrases that never tire of looking eternally at the incautious years, which belong to our father through Exo galaxies in the total company of invisibility and cautious time relativity. This beautiful Semitic sea shore indicates and invites us to reach its salty Hebrew waters of Yofi, reinforcing the phonetics that runs madly through the border hills with their hearts in their hands when foreigners appear in the name of plausive phylogeny. That brings them a bearable piece of the farmhouse from the Universal flood, for this is that the ancient Canaanites have to receive them with the table served to entertain them with winter flowers in Jaffa. The Hellenistic tradition relates the name to Iopeia, which is Cassiopeia herself, mother of Andromeda. After Pliny the Elder the name is connected with Joppa who was the daughter of ******, god of the wind. Where Vernarth locked his shield Áspis Skoilé to shine in the bilges of the Eurydice under the pentagons of his shield's bronze layer whenever he approached the Dodecanese when the Auriga descended from Andromeda on the back of an oarsman battered by storms away from his home galaxy. Thousands of years BC its merchants glorified themselves with their baskets full of goods and merchandise for its inhabitants who today pretended to be pharaohs who contributed to the marine corners along the coast that today seemed to open with more new waters reborn from the capers of the swells founding thus the omens of embarking to attack and submit to the omens of sovereignty between Judah and Hellenic lands, to work with noble trees in their armories and utensils of which they traversed an honorable part after the maintenance of the emblem of the last portion of Alexander's libertarian triumph pole Magnus on the Phoenicians at Tyre. gazelle) in Joppa (Jaffa) and later how near this city he has a vision in which Yahveh told him that one should not distinguish between Jews and Gentiles while ordering the removal of ritual food restrictions (kosher) followed by the Jews. The Shvil of the angels distanced themselves from the appetite of this station without reaching them and not making them drink salt water from Jaffa, so they resorted to Petrobus, which a few meters before reaching the port summoned a large number of Dodecanese Pelicans who were waiting for them in great celestial flocks that hovered happily over the sky welcoming them. The pelicans levitate from a risky juggling act on the caravan and headed out to sea collecting saltwater, then they went through the initiatory path of Shvil and reconvert the salty water into sweet with hazelnuts so that they would have holy water to insolate it and serve it in canteens of the temple guards of the Canaanites who were waiting for them to distract them, making them believe that they were other Syriac lands as in those of Asherah that in this act perhaps it would be good for them to sponsor the Hexagonal Primogeniture. But the trails of angels confederated before the noisy crowds and Ptolemaic lemurs that scrambled into the empty spaces that remained. After this grave siege, Vernarth shouted to heaven with the force of Phalangist tradition himself, and hailed heaven for the good of freeing them from their definitive income to Jaffa summoning the Hypastists; elite warriors, and spearmen so that they would hem the portal at her Jaffa entrance for others who were never from nowhere and out of nowhere, only blocking her from her perfect theological heritage and memorial conservation plan upon return from Judah exit, to embark with destiny through the sulfurous ponto that will scald them in temporary waters towards the Cyclades and then to the Dodecanese, succeeding in inhabiting them wherever they were and whoever arrived with foreign promise. At nightfall in its first nubile shadows, the Shvil appears to them with these three angels dressed in ivory white, each one with a book in each hand and in the other a candelabrum giving signs of ultra-interpretive catechesis, allying itself with silica in combination behind the vision of the charms of propagated knowledge. Earth and sky in the second angel washing off the Semitic dew of Jaffa anguished with teachings of sleeping well and waking up, to walk in the lands that wish to seize the senses of those who are called not to be oppressed, behind bars of the morbid and illiterate Panavision of angles of hasty entertainment of the angels when they were called by the Regent Angel, simply relaying information easy to take to their hearts in faint powers and paradisiacal punishments, before falling into a thorny forest plowing their tongues into furrows of afflicted human charges and then earnestly redeem them with the judicious power of Hashem. Vernarth agonizes over the matter of seeing them so tender and so fragile allowing her to gently row towards him. Finally, these three rules of the Shvil Hanael are presented; "talking to them about hindrances stuck in the literary cabal of grateful fulfillments for all". Vernarth alludes to a desensitized subject and is also far from any Sub Yogic disciplinary doctrine. This led him to stand behind San Juan, frightened protecting himself from everything around him, he was seeing in front of the upper left side that Zebedee was, San Juan's own father calling him! Saint John the Apostle says: "Justice allows us at this time to alleviate ignorance if the riddles allow us to only seek the answer, Hashem will not be here..., it will only be an emotional catharsis due to a Shivil or merely ideological passage, which moves our prayers without sense taking us definitively to the coffers that are rearmed one after one after the mistake. We are faithfully interpreted by them but we detest our regencies with the Eschaton when we all try to follow its light of resounding density towards the sky, prophesying to follow it without getting lost in It..., held on its glossary shoulder. On the claws that are released from the dazed angelic prey correcting its wavering vision, unraveling the living presence of damnations or salvations in Eden with your bare feet or hell with no departure time "Inexplicably some Praetorian soldiers of Domitian appear, who would be restricting the departure of the triacontero bound for Limassol, curiously they were the same ghosts of Shiraz that continued to represent such a bad event, just like when he was expelled to Patmos by Domitian in 95 BC, of size was the hubbub produced by the Shvil angels with impracticable ideologies, who opposed such spectral imagery, in such a way that they replaced their figure with that of another fellow Hellenic who wanted to embark for Patmos, the other members were fully incorporated into the ship that cavorted on pirouettes as it carried them proudly to a new ocean. Around the last drops that jumped in Jaffa on the coastal rocks, others appeared when the last divided and scattered drops were going to shine the navigation temples, thus it is possible to board the same ship that brought them from the beginning of arrival from Limassol to Judah, which transited from Lepanto. They reappear in the plenipotentiary chapel offering a ceremony that would return the messianic hindrance to the Angels of Shiraz, to return to their former positions within the itineraries of biblical characters that tend to become adulterated in the game of the loss of consciousness of the Escaton, probably requiring that everyone has to make pilgrimage routes for all humanity confined and liberated by themselves. The Saltimbanqui finally manage to jump on the boat to sail to the Dodecanese but the Shvil of the Angels remained where other celebrities will require them to redirect them to the Shvil Escaton.



Paraps XXXI

Second Hijra to Patmos

VIII part -Judah's conclusion

What can be perceived by the Universe of Judah would be in a Universal Eye of photochemistry within the phosphorescence of the spectrum of the Jaffa bay that magnetized the visible sprinkling electricity, within the visible field of the photon in the same bay, which is responsible for elementary particle guarantor of quantum manifestations of the electromagnetic phenomenon. Carrying electromagnetic radiation of gamma rays over the entire atmosphere of Jaffa, X-rays, ultraviolet light, visible light, infrared light, microwaves, and radio waves, causing the ellipsis of Radio Moscow on October 29, 1929, right there presenting itself from the future to the present before hijra to Patmos.

Ellipsis Radio Moscow 1929 – Parapsychological Radio Regression:

"Radio Moscow went on the air on October 29, 1929. And this, its first broadcast in a foreign language, would be in Greek to be heard by everyone in Jaffa. Radio Moscow bulletins expressed great unease over the recent rise to power of the dictator Adolf ****** in Germany during the 1930s. An unintelligible visionary fumble of daphnomancy was considered, predicting the persecution of the Hebrews and extermination of themselves for which Saint John Apostle immediately tuned in common with Vernarth the instant he was hit by this radio wave of number twenty, nine of Jaffa's exit edict. The visible fantasy of this would make the audio listeners uncomfortable towards the behavior of certain intermittent swings that made the natural light of Jaffa intermingled with luminescence, with the waves and photons in presumptuous duality to dominate Vernarth's behavior when invaded by this flash of prophetic invasion. The Apostle's observation spheres made it faster to climb and try to sustain this invasive radio wave that crossed time thousands of years from the year 1929 to the year 165 AD. C. approximately that it traveled with a great speed of infinite wave to a great percentage of microseconds. All this information alerted the native son of Capernaum, worrying too much about this ethnopolitical situation. Here the microwave was refracted, undergoing a change in direction that collided with the ship, in its floating basal portion, due to the fact that this wave propagated at different speeds considering that the medium in which they were moving was clearly wood, but propelled by a large transmission vehicle through the winding water to the massive hull. Doing and plotting what would make them move immediately to go to Cyprus; Limassol. The speed of the radial wave was parked on the sails and that of the hull due to the chromatics of the water that lightened its refraction through the facets of the sails, and the cap bizarrely acted as an exponential concave angle propeller motor and overheated. A quick brawling radio wave appears in Vernarth's tongue; Says Vernarth: "Anti-Semitism is a matter of ******* benefiting from slavery and vast insubstantial ethnic resources, not allowing to relate the advance of ancient and primitive civil social immigrations that migrate to sociopolitical statuses, already pampered since their arrival in the Rhineland during the Roman Empire. The Jewish community prospered until the end of the 11th century after the First Crusade, having to go through a long stormy period marked by massacres, accusations of ritual crimes, various extortion, and expulsions. Their legal status was degraded and Jews were prohibited from exercising most trades. In the 18th century, Enlightenment philosophers such as Moses Mendelssohn were outraged by this miserable condition and launched a campaign to denounce it. However, the road that led them to Emancipation was long and lasted nearly a century, after which the Jewish community was integrated into society. Their assimilation allowed an economic and intellectual success that aroused suspicion in certain sectors, also giving rise to anti-Semitism with the coming to power of Adolf ******'s oligarch in 1933, putting the Jews on the margin of German society. Extensive persecution was followed by deportation and then extermination during World War II. After the war, the Jewish community slowly reconstituted itself thanks to the support of the German federal government." This time enchanting with lamb's blood coined on its cornices to sprout them for all those who had to endure the enigma of departure towards the straight desert as a property of the radio waves exhibited here as a dogmatic whole dusting in the geometric regime, which testifies to a whole "That the Robe of the Savior shakes all the structures of critical-political thought and brilliance of race." Producing objective intellectual blood, which would join the Social Christian party in Germany in 1930. But every elementary thesis would promulgate the emphasis on the centrality of social democracy, of bringing to Patmos a great task of dividing by time by traversing the timeline providing Joshua's solid One-Dimensional Beams at Kafersesuh, for the protectorate of the holocaust and sacrifice and introduce premises of emancipation and abolition of the subterfuge of marginalized social fields, devoid of interethnic social guarantees and the heel of Semitic roots. This natural property is excepted by the breed of San Juan Apóstol; Zebedee's son consists of carrying this to the most informative substantiality up to Patmos to keep them organized. From this dialectical propagation, great shadows arose, interposing opacities that showed many Jews falling into concentration camps at the exact moment of expropriation of their real estate. Naked bodies can be seen only with dark shadows with small signs of imperturbability on their cut faces, staying in the gloom of Conviction, with some photos of their children in relative proximity to the deadly impression of last death rattles and undermined fading pointed expressions, appearing in the rictus of their wives with narrow condemnatory anguish falling on them from the same Cell of the stormy Escaton, that transcended under semiotic history; the resurrection of the dead, divine judgment, heaven and eternal happiness with God or damnation and hell. Here is a perfect archetypal case of the disconcerting radio wave pouring novelty and satisfaction before the curiosity of the listeners, but it was a "newest Revelation at the same time, being objectivity for the cell of San Juan and for the immanent protectorate", which designates the dimension mundane and temporal opposed to transcendence. Because many Christians have become incapable of conceiving the "other world" as a consistent, real reality, and have transferred to this world the hope of a full and happy life. In this "immanentization" evangelical theologies of prosperity incur both, which see in the Christian faith as the means to achieve material well-being, Vernarth closes a blind when they were already walking on the magnetized corvettes of the sea, without feeling how the sea besieged them,...saying himself: "I keep looking through the hole of my ignorance, and I manage to see the dictators in monochrome displaying their diffraction banners lights, a key to ethnic oppression "in black and white" and the turned ones going through the crack in the trails of the Hebrews with their suitcases and belongings, lost and surrendering to laments united to the Messiah. In holistic combined, centered to the extent of a third screen produced in alternative light and dark bands, in the Lepanto nave when everyone learned vox populi about the radio phenomenon in non-transistorized tubes in frank romance with the old age of their practices. End Ellipsis Radial Radio Moscow. The phenomenon of interferences of a natural nature continues, bringing joy to their ruined hearts, they all sang Christian songs that made vertical lines appear on their faces between both melted cheeks. Leaving them incidence of fasting light to signal as thrones of lighthouses that illuminate the skies of the Messiah's seas, putting themselves before them millions of light-years from the side that now they could see him. The angles disperse and affect the light of the Messiah of the Our Father at twilight, falling on the others like the same conclusive Gethsemane leaf of the Bern Olive Tree. Flowing the light on the matter that sheltered the ship to Limassol, industrial energy was constituted in all the directions of the superficial optics, generating reflections in weak interferences that oscillated like immobile remnants of radio waves still active. This phenomenon made Brisehal appear from the bottom of the sea; the giant of Dasht-e-Lut, approaching to protect Vernarth and the Hexagonal Birthright. Generating a dynamic global hetero internal light in the navigation radius of the ship, in a more parsimonious speed than in a more relative one, frustrated to try to synchronize the flashes of the Xiphos sword of Vertnath Hoplite that allowed him to use it as a sextant, to arrive at the Cypriot destination. In this void of energy by another replaced, a speed imprint of the same void arises with lengths of movement of underwater waves caused by the giant Brisehal, to displace them in washings of the Adonis in accordance with the Sword of their master Vernarth ephebe. Dispersing evaporated droplets from the desert of Dash-e-Lut that remained in the cloacal zones of his ears polarizing defensive crystals from the hyperactive environment, and in force of the Phalangists scourged in Gaugamela who still writhed on the diaphanous immaterial land that continued in heated conflict, until the coexistence of the oppressor ceases. The parallel rotated worlds follow each other unrotated, being disturbed in another dimension mediated by the aware consciousness, which lacks any neutral rationality. They would be only attempts going through crystals of the Faith..., mastering projectile salutes of malevolent brotherhood, immersed in a maximum intensity of breakage and crystalloid rupture, which flows from the Messiah's lens in angles of subaquatic darkness. All of this atmosphere self-absorbs, leaving divine rabbi light tele-transferred into stored energy reaction levels, whose capacity would exceed one billion cubic meters due to the rupture between the chemical bonds caused by radiant energy, dissociating molecules by the effect of sublime light from serious sounds of immanence, and redefining itself as the interaction between one or more cells of mass of light against a molecule nomad target. Also appropriate for the extreme radicalization that marine plants would suffer, which also sailed expelled from the disturbed radical seabed of Jaffa.



Hellenic Existential Hypnosis

Arriving at the central retention of the Aegean Sea between parallels 36-38 of latitude and meridians 24-26 of longitude belonging to the periphery of the South Aegean, an abduction of an amnesic trace of the Alexandrian magnetic period occurs, which made them realize the that they had deviated from the Limassol-Cyprus destination, having to turn degrees to redirect to Limassol. This was exercised and subdued by the Alexandrian period that in its immanent chronology sought to remake an existentialist stance, which descended from the limits chained by the depressive effect of the aura after their death of his sister Cleopatra. This whitish aristocratic parapet of Zeus invaded them not auditing to govern the schizophrenic supply, having to redirect the course to the other side of the Cyclades. Sovereignly Vernarth takes the helm with great Greek breath, creating shields of redemption in arts and sciences of the Hetairoi aristocracy, under meso-urban science-politics replaced by Christian devotion, making the Hellenic language a romantic Aramaic in the potential to prevail the existentialism of the hypnotizing oneiric dream of a silly banquet served by the hordes in all the slopes that transported them between the enigmatic underworld of Panhellenic language, and with re culturization of ephemeral uncrossed lines that subtracted their dramas of disturbing knowledge depriving them of the neuro-motor and adjective of the main return value for the origin of the reconquest of the Triacontero in Limassol. This Hypnosis brought consequences of the Leagues called Diádochos 'successors' of the ancient generals of Alexander the Great, and of the sons of the general hegemons (called epigones,) that at the unexpected death of Alexander the Great in 323 a. C. distributed their empire, disputing power and hegemony over their brothers with various pacts and six wars that lasted twenty years. A political system was then established until the start of the Roman Empire in the eastern Mediterranean in the early 2nd century BC. C. Prone to this contingency, Vernarth turns to Hypnos and one of the thousand children he had with Pasítea, who urged them to cohesion this Hellenic Inertia, quantitatively making the immortality of the image of Alexander the Great to bring each of the ex faithful commanders thus refounding Vernarth his Hellenistic Encyclical, for the purpose of escorting them to Limassol and protecting the lineages and infants who were in their puberty in Greece asleep soon to be an Agoge, after great war campaigns and abandoned agreements as an example of the snowy lineage in his Mother Olympia, and Sister Thessaloniki and children waiting passionately for him. And also in the Empire of Sudpichi-Chile, Luccica with the court of her familiar stoic resistance ingests the opiates until her Vernarth takes her in those arms, from her own and imaginative marshland lagoon gathered at the Itheoi Gods. The disintegration of Macedonia and Greece into subregions catapulted again the appearance of Clovis who says...: the river Lethe in the underworld liquefies your memories, and cleanses your mind permanently. That is the branch of a poplar tree from the underworld, from my father Hypnos. "Lete is not a place where you want to go swimming... but if you change the rudder for your honorable mind". This achieves that one of the sons, among thousands of Pasítea, committed himself to Clovis, to dissipate this existentialist contingency, claiming the appeal of family reunion and imperishable Hellenic constituent ancestry, under the hypnotic and hegemonic phenomenon that polished banners and panoplies in Greece, Macedonia, and Asia Minor. As a subsidiary exception, they will satisfy what was reissued by Ptolemy, one of Alexander's childhood companions of whom some authors venture to say that he was the illegitimate son of Philip II. He wisely quickly seized Egypt and hastened to create an enduring state by declining imperial ambitions that he considered unrealistic. He was one of the main opponents of the imperial cause thus becoming one of the founders of the Hellenistic world. Unusually, the commanders of Alexander incontinent to his excessive dipsomania of glorious hierarchical power, demystified Hetairoi's harangue, generating in it a Hypnotic counter-conception, making these sedative steps to delegate the religious Vóreios Dei..., which had only known how to redirect itself later in the classic tonnage Gaugamela of his great Hoplite Commander Vernarth. This grayish super mass of uncontrolled winds and increased lightning proto idolatrous forms salivated in the same Hellenistic family, whose postulate was to multiply the family over its geopolitical dominations in other nations, unifying them as a family geo-clan rather than in the seas that do not divide the water-land, Rather, they unite moralistic and cultural hydro-parental resources of the world that is a concomitant part of "The devouring cyclone of mythological dignitary entities, and other races that flee from the honest chronogram of historicity and its reconstructive past-present." Square meters of great cyclops mouths were floating in the air, it inspired Vernarth to make the green grass of the sea reborn like plankton that made a compulsive propensity to exalt Chloé's presence; being an Epi Phantom that always sparkled among the nebulosity as a reserve of Universal Consciousness, geo-measuring the Hellenic consciousness with a black bandage over his eyes, so as not to sully more sprouts of green chlorophyll and photochemical mass of the phenomenon, amassing only Cyclops electrogenic beasts that had to burn on the bolts and runaway embers of dissident light to leave in some memorable way, or beg some Sanctus to do his bidding wandering into acquiring the square feet of tiny, almost unidentifiable beasts that appeared simulating the viscous green water of the river Lethe in the contracted underworld. The existential holistic in the ship produced depressive lags, lack of self-esteem, and factors of loss of the ego, therefore each one who pointed with his index, distended from some silos in the hands of opiates that would denigrate the oneiric in those who tried to flee from their own collective weeds..., fleeing from himself, stagnating and freezing in stretches of dreams of gross loneliness and indelible fantasy..., what the extravagant hypnosis sought to occupy in them with its decrees of mortality is a beyond adulterated in some benevolent indications and psychic reactive alertness. When the soft brilliance of the same flash was shown on the faces of Alexander the Great and Vernarth in the six wars that took place with the Diadocos without flashes for twenty years..., only in twenty seconds would Alexander the Great appear on the deck of the Lepanto ship, dressed in a crimson red costume, covering his Hellenic silhouette up to his allegorical half-torso. From here he urged them to culminate the hypnosis in a deep world in an unbreathable statue of colloquial rhapsody..., pay attention to this... everything continues normally, and Vernarth leaves the helm to honor him with a hoplite Khaire and as a congener of Christian Shvil, so philanthropic and deferential as was Ptolemy, and Vernarth himself in Tel Gomel and Bumodos herding greenish glosses to open them towards the new Magno-theological empire. Metaphysical of the profile of the wise dervish that appeared in Limassol as a sapphire rosary entangling itself in physiognomies and rises of hope in the average Gen, when approaching the latent peninsula of Eurydice's gold medallion. Judah was suspended in the Giant Ungulates munching on the bags of herbs that thickened in their Palestinian snouts, the sphinxes of the birds continued to grow with their wings to shelter blasphemies from their prophets, and Judah wailing in the intraosseous of those who traveled leaving Judah, but never departing from the Aramaic cells of Gethsemane lost from Hellenic Existential Hypnosis.

Vas Auric conceived himself judicious before Spílaiaus when observing that Vernarth was leaning towards a practical meeting of a feared Hellenic crisis based on omnipresence, and all the material-immaterial face that is bloodily arranged in ****** foundations stipulating its very Submythological constitution. All that was a trend within the similar horizon that should be imposed with the appearance of Wonthelimar; as a direct seer of practice continuing the pre-ontological process, and why not say it of someone who does not even think and totally excludes himself from its composition or being part of... rather being a ration of the subjective segment and correction similar to the god Spilaiaus articulating its dynamism under the predominance of the concept of the sapphic verse where it puts knowledge at risk, and speculate on each component of the Itheoi gods, possessing themselves within the torrent of theology under ethical evaluation, differing from the mythical leitmotif, as dissipator of contention and beings that think organically of the material ethereal substrate. Vernarth silently concurs and prepares to postulate the anti-ethical Submythological existence; tending to demystify their Ethos or Conduct, aspiring to envision structures of undervaluation of the same, and flaunt visions of what originates from superior and then yearn for the hierarchy that is not imposed, but rather is a consequence of subsistence apparatuses that put essay its longevity and validity in sevenths, missing four to reach Sapphic foundations, and scaling Mythologies that could facilitate being under the position of the Demiurge or poet cultist of verses, perhaps superior to the crimping of any system when a judgment of true root or incautious origin is put. All this Hellenic atmosphere relied on the ethos links between Vernarth and his lord Spílaiaus, after rearranging pre-ontological (vorontologischeas Heidegger says) knowing his skill and tenfolds as he conforms to the ascending tenth of the eleventh of the sapphic. After this, Wonthelimar would appear to be the object of transcendental challenges and interpretations of the world that give rise to the same thing after not being in Spílaiaus' speech with sapphic verses.

The statement of becoming will be the cause of the gods of the Itheoi after the physiognomy that will spoil the Vertical of Gaul in the very genesis of Wonthelimar. Undoubtedly there will be chilling events of axiomatic transfers and metempsychosis that will be elucidated from the helminths that Spílaiaus will spill through the bark of possession. This mysterious orphic enchantment will be billed by Wonthelimar from the separation of Valdaine emerging alienated over the mountains of Ardeche, transmigrating euphony and reduced justifications that were united with the Helminth reminiscent and reincarnated by Vernarth. Perhaps it was a verme-worm that was classified on his arm moth-eaten in elongated elder veins to parasites of certainly commendable colonies and vehement and lyrical idiomatic apogees. The balusters will continue to be amatory componential in Vernarth for being composed of Heidegger's plinth and imagining oral linkages with the patronage of his eternal mother Luccica who will awaken as always in all presumptive psychophysical and atoning Zionisms with eloquent perspectivism and millionth re-trance, consisting of the putrid ***** arm of his Abrahamic split physics, dissociating in his body, separating and alternating with the dexterous spiral Aorion bracelet existing between the armband of Sagittarius and Perseus, liquefying in indissoluble modular stratagems for three bodies, plus the one that accompanied them dealing with their posthumous individualities in triplets. Singular unconscious metempsychoses brought their dexterous arm picking him up repeatedly from the discursive hives of Wonthelimar, to convince them and tell them that they had not seen the Hexagonal Progeniture for some time, unimpeded that brought him from Ardeche in lasting ensembles and concerting grays senses looking at the valleys of Valdaine in pilgrimages towards the expectant Patmian plains. Its expiration was reborn from the appendages of the water lilies that were seized by embedded lumbar powers, and mentalized in related memories that subsist in digressive reincarnations and longings, re-advancing with revived intelligence to indoctrinate themselves with the elevation of an emetic absolutist consciousness free of greater breaths of judgment is constant waste and reciprocity of cabinets, which were started from an initial discipline already transmigrated,The transitory glow of Exomis hung over some stones that were close to the Perivrachiónio or metal armband that multiplied in the three brazils of Vernarth, Wonthelimar and finally Spílaiaus that was bordered by the Acacians and Nothofagus that were covered with water lilies and peduncles cordoning off the livestock, full of thrones to conquer them almost after having lost calculations of the plasma that was innovated from a Hetairoi by reformulating itself from an incendiary bullfighting essence to its deltoids by detonating hatred in its croaks. All this clairvoyance was veiled for the clothing of the Exomis that was automatically placed in transition when the leaves of the deciduous led him to temporize in Wonthelimar in tender attachments. Distorted would be achieved with ****** healings next to the brave tributary, leaving in the vanguard and with starts from all the carriages that took the condemned to Halicarnassus to be truncated together with infallible Canephores in disgrace to their executioners, browsing all the oak branches of the Wonthelimar joint that had been sheltering from its head, sticking to ancient ruts of souls in pain over the sleeping Nyons. the brawl symbiosis of the Megaron was exhibited with the "M" united with two inverted "Vs", Wonthelimar conceptualizing himself on the eve of early buildings and phobias fragmenting into numerous odes in Thessaly, which were already beginning to re-agglutinate attracted from a majestic image of Hellas, under the pretext of Hellenistic consummations as a vocational and primitive institute race of Alejandrino Magnus derived a few nautical miles to board towards Patmos. The ship crossed the sea conceptualizing itself as the most universal being that revived in the Triacontero, appearing among all the waters as a nubile surf that spoke to each other with words Mageireméno Kefáli Votánon, "Head cooked with herbs". Speaking in primitive erudition alternated and swells with forty feet in territorial Argonauts making similar corvettes like the Gulf of Tarnetino, possessing distant comparisons with sixty miles of the base that colonized Wonthelimar for new sources when encrypted in the Megaron. They persevere leading the Immaturas Polis that would be documented in Patmos and in town halls of the assembly with ****** ceased battles climbing to a great height from the cogitative of the Megarón temple and Theater of Epidaurus, under three shadows of adjoining water lilies and the Spilaion Apokalypseos.

As will be seen in this demonstrative synopsis of the hemicycle Theater of Epidaurus working in the stars for the nations of Asclepius together with Wonhtelimar, that is how migrated melodic sessions and Parapsychological palmistry sounded with burdensome marks of intervenors expectorated in vast when impelling on the Koilones and softened bleached bleachers where each one was shouting to all the winds the advent of all the auditoriums absent by past and future generations, acclaiming lives in salvific voices. Here Spilaiaus from his stomáchi or visceral will point out the stinging nettle that he will invariably scheme whenVernarth continues to weave the plot of transmigration to the CartesianUnderworld as an apocryphal late Aristotelianism, mechanizing the existential dualisms of Hades with formulas, psychotropic and geometric tricks, granting them permission to bequeath habeas corpus theologies, coexisting in the first instance with Etréstles de Kalavrita, who would establish the term of definitive transmigration of Alexander the Great so that the Diadochos andWonthelimar would contend the final and disciplinary action of revocation of the high arrest, trans humanizing the sovereign as a Macedonian next to the hexagonal Primogeniture finally very close to Saint John the Apostle andVernarth in the vicinity of the Megaron Spilaion Apokalypseos. Spílaiausinvokes: "Neolithic alloys, they corresponded to the Medea and Hypnos eras, among all of them being aerial, visionary and northern lights that traveled to my redoubt to sprinkle them in river waters on the night of Agios San Ioannis.From here the Kanthillana with Greco pilgrimage, portentous gusts where the wind is amazed when entering the concavity that is lost in nature of time and qualitative content, unusually being an organism of outburst and cytological drama together in trickery and radiocarbon tricks due to vicissitudes, and actions that have dated my radiation from the radioactive carbon in these caverns and insulted carbon spaces fourteen in more than fifty million radiometric years. From here, my Vernarth, everything becomes insignificant and all the levels of expression slide down the armband, differing three levels from where I have been able to hear the truth of your sound kingdom, which emits gestures that are neither music nor harmonious directions in any worldview where it should place everything that no one can perceive by the senses of nature more enormous than any resurrected mortal. This is how the Itheoi genres are a drastic irrationality that is responsible for restoring forgotten beings, almost Hellenistic humans who speak through languages ​​of their gaze, and museological splendors of which they only reprimand metaphysics as an understanding of the Void such as the Judaic Kli or Hellenic Kenosis, which goes evidencing immersion by transferring futile understanding and hermeneutic pontificate times of Kantillana and Olympus, Patmos and Horcondising. Thus all beings when referring to Vernarth will be nothing more or less than the same in the company of the science of a future that will eternally coexist with the constitutive past of an active present called "Submythology" everything that does not contain parental relationship in koilones and of his greek spiritual stratum, It will be kenósis and Kli of parental pairing with the significance of erratic mobilities in what is interpreted as sporadic mourning, given the universal change, therefore, atmospheric. In the second Trilogy, the Triacontero goes through the Othónes of Naupactus, to Limassol. The ship was attached to the Ziziphus of the Moshiach's crown back from Jaffa, Walking the deck of the ship getting exasperated to revisit Kourion. As the adrenaline subsided, he crashed the port side keeping them in retinas of spheres of fire that came out of the ponto, enlarging such crapulous spheres that they had traveled to the sea through the Kouris River, but been kidnapped by Brisehal who assaulted them and put them on his back esplanade to swim to the peninsula of the current Akrotiri where the ogre carried him as floating globules to inhabit the sands of Cyprus. A tremolo mortar and sinewy essences of the Falangist faction will be established. Together they walk through the arena with Brisehal, being able to observe that it was coming from above and from a great Alikantus glide to meet him. Now, this trilogy of distinguishedAnimalia superheroes was made up of who would escort him to listen to the legions of Greeks from Mycenae who besieged Kourion. When they walked along the edge of the beach, several artists crossed in front of them carrying Avant-grade instruments in their hands, accompanied by miners and forgers of goldsmiths. Everything says to prosper in the Aegean and Greece for a new Paraps ***- Forests of Hylates, Gold Medallion Second Hegira to Limassol. Spílaiaussensible in his necromantic arts would be immersed in an absolutist language of relatives to welcome Vernarth, shelter him, and feed him after Highs and Lows that commemorated all the possible truths and falsehoods that he had to avoid from the final Prolegomena or final speech of the Trilogy, aiming to be located in the highest part of the Kanthillana to face its Greco-American world lineage in wetlands or taigas that would move great cycles of the Caucasus with the Meltemi towards all the grasslands and steppes, bringing vast multitudes of gregarious Hoplites to live together by the floods of the Paleolithicstragglers, to go back to the sinister prehistory that is based mainly on the names of the towns with writing they gave to the "barbarians" who invaded them. Zeus-God (Jovis in genitive) that is, Zeùs patér in Greek, Jupiter in Latin, Dyauspita in Sanskrit. He is opposed to mere demons or secondary gods (Sanskrit devas, daeva Avesta, Lithuanian devas, Gallic Devo, Latin Deus-divi), who derive from the "luminous sky" (the day = dyu,dyo, dies, diei). He will make the sacrificial background of the coming euro-American scene, thus creating the liturgical syncretism of survival by venerating all those who dwell in soulless bodies in the latitudes of Kantillanaand Olympus. From this gregarious candling emanating primary physical forces of submithology; in which man (****) lived. Man is mortal (Marta-, martya- in Sanskrit), son of the Earth-Mother (Mata-prithivi in ​​Sanskrit, Gê-méter in greek). This dualism, only outlined at the level of the primitive into-Europeans, gains consciousness overtime when the mature age of evanescent humanity (Jaspers' Achsenzeit) is reached. In discrepancy of mythological root antagonism, it is bringing chronological and obituary rhythms that will live to delight us with their own gesture from Hellas and Anatoliamainly to Patmos and Horcondising, Sudpichi, Chile. The conductive cycle will have a great impact on Spílaiaus, dimensioning itself in Aristotle, regenerating the first signs of infra spelean humanism in cultures that have nowhere to lodge their vast parallel heritage in more than a distant pre-classical and classic threshold, procreating the only dissolute world striving aggressively in Vernarth Hellenic's Trilogy II.
Messiah of Judah
To the thunderstorm I used to love,

you pounded me, beat the windows with your fists,
brought the rain down with your thunderous roar.
rarely, it would hail, and the melting ice would
gleam down the streets, still soiled from the
summer day before you came and took over all daylight.

A severe thunderstorm warning went into effect around
2 a.m. - estimating to begin at 4 and
end at 9.

You came at 5, and it never ended.

While the rain once glistened, it now stings my skin,
crushes my thighs, squeezes my hip, compressing
pressing presser tightening twisting the calf, stabbing
the spine.

I am not in control.

The purple crush of your swirling eyes is
a rush of wind - a cold front in the summer
mist - the shattering of a two-hundred-year-old tree.

I saved butterflies from you only for them to suffocate in their cages. The rags indoors, the frames, they never stopped you - only the rain
prevented your fire.

You are right when you are gone.

The road is a blurry mirror, aging eyesight in the wet darkness.
Watch a reading on my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2nR4jcdzhas
[Greek: Mellonta  sauta’]

These things are in the future.

Sophocles—’Antig.’

‘Una.’

“Born again?”

‘Monos.’

Yes, fairest and best beloved Una, “born again.” These were
the words upon whose mystical meaning I had so long
pondered, rejecting the explanations of the priesthood,
until Death itself resolved for me the secret.

‘Una.’

Death!

‘Monos.’

How strangely, sweet Una, you echo my words! I
observe, too, a vacillation in your step, a joyous
inquietude in your eyes. You are confused and oppressed by
the majestic novelty of the Life Eternal. Yes, it was of
Death I spoke. And here how singularly sounds that word
which of old was wont to bring terror to all hearts,
throwing a mildew upon all pleasures!

‘Una.’

Ah, Death, the spectre which sate at all feasts! How often,
Monos, did we lose ourselves in speculations upon its
nature! How mysteriously did it act as a check to human
bliss, saying unto it, “thus far, and no farther!” That
earnest mutual love, my own Monos, which burned within our
bosoms, how vainly did we flatter ourselves, feeling happy
in its first upspringing that our happiness would strengthen
with its strength! Alas, as it grew, so grew in our hearts
the dread of that evil hour which was hurrying to separate
us forever! Thus in time it became painful to love. Hate
would have been mercy then.

‘Monos’.

Speak not here of these griefs, dear Una—mine, mine
forever now!

‘Una’.

But the memory of past sorrow, is it not present joy? I have
much to say yet of the things which have been. Above all, I
burn to know the incidents of your own passage through the
dark Valley and Shadow.

‘Monos’.

And when did the radiant Una ask anything of her Monos in
vain? I will be minute in relating all, but at what point
shall the weird narrative begin?

‘Una’.

At what point?

‘Monos’.

You have said.

‘Una’.

Monos, I comprehend you. In Death we have both learned the
propensity of man to define the indefinable. I will not say,
then, commence with the moment of life’s cessation—but
commence with that sad, sad instant when, the fever having
abandoned you, you sank into a breathless and motionless
torpor, and I pressed down your pallid eyelids with the
passionate fingers of love.

‘Monos’.

One word first, my Una, in regard to man’s general condition
at this epoch. You will remember that one or two of the wise
among our forefathers—wise in fact, although not in
the world’s esteem—had ventured to doubt the propriety
of the term “improvement,” as applied to the progress of our
civilization. There were periods in each of the five or six
centuries immediately preceding our dissolution when arose
some vigorous intellect, boldly contending for those
principles whose truth appears now, to our disenfranchised
reason, so utterly obvious —principles which should
have taught our race to submit to the guidance of the
natural laws rather than attempt their control. At long
intervals some master-minds appeared, looking upon each
advance in practical science as a retrogradation in the true
utility. Occasionally the poetic intellect—that
intellect which we now feel to have been the most exalted of
all—since those truths which to us were of the most
enduring importance could only be reached by that analogy
which speaks in proof-tones to the imagination alone,
and to the unaided reason bears no weight—occasionally
did this poetic intellect proceed a step farther in the
evolving of the vague idea of the philosophic, and find in
the mystic parable that tells of the tree of knowledge, and
of its forbidden fruit, death-producing, a distinct
intimation that knowledge was not meet for man in the infant
condition of his soul. And these men—the poets—
living and perishing amid the scorn of the
“utilitarians”—of rough pedants, who arrogated to
themselves a title which could have been properly applied
only to the scorned—these men, the poets, pondered
piningly, yet not unwisely, upon the ancient days when our
wants were not more simple than our enjoyments were
keen—days when mirth was a word unknown, so
solemnly deep-toned was happiness—holy, august, and
blissful days, blue rivers ran undammed, between hills
unhewn, into far forest solitudes, primeval, odorous, and
unexplored. Yet these noble exceptions from the general
misrule served but to strengthen it by opposition. Alas! we
had fallen upon the most evil of all our evil days. The
great “movement”—that was the cant term—went on:
a diseased commotion, moral and physical. Art—the
Arts—arose supreme, and once enthroned, cast chains
upon the intellect which had elevated them to power. Man,
because he could not but acknowledge the majesty of Nature,
fell into childish exultation at his acquired and still-
increasing dominion over her elements. Even while he stalked
a God in his own fancy, an infantine imbecility came over
him. As might be supposed from the origin of his disorder,
he grew infected with system, and with abstraction. He
enwrapped himself in generalities. Among other odd ideas,
that of universal equality gained ground; and in the face of
analogy and of God—in despite of the loud warning
voice of the laws of gradation so visibly pervading
all things in Earth and Heaven—wild attempts at an
omniprevalent Democracy were made. Yet this evil sprang
necessarily from the leading evil, Knowledge. Man could not
both know and succumb. Meantime huge smoking cities arose,
innumerable. Green leaves shrank before the hot breath of
furnaces. The fair face of Nature was deformed as with the
ravages of some loathsome disease. And methinks, sweet Una,
even our slumbering sense of the forced and of the far-
fetched might have arrested us here. But now it appears that
we had worked out our own destruction in the ******* of
our taste, or rather in the blind neglect of its
culture in the schools. For, in truth, it was at this crisis
that taste alone—that faculty which, holding a middle
position between the pure intellect and the moral sense,
could never safely have been disregarded—it was now
that taste alone could have led us gently back to Beauty, to
Nature, and to Life. But alas for the pure contemplative
spirit and majestic intuition of Plato! Alas for the [Greek:
mousichae]  which he justly regarded as an all-sufficient
education for the soul! Alas for him and for it!—since
both were most desperately needed, when both were most
entirely forgotten or despised. Pascal, a philosopher whom
we both love, has said, how truly!—”Que tout notre
raisonnement se reduit a ceder au sentiment;” and it is
not impossible that the sentiment of the natural, had time
permitted it, would have regained its old ascendency over
the harsh mathematical reason of the schools. But this thing
was not to be. Prematurely induced by intemperance of
knowledge, the old age of the world drew near. This the mass
of mankind saw not, or, living lustily although unhappily,
affected not to see. But, for myself, the Earth’s records
had taught me to look for widest ruin as the price of
highest civilization. I had imbibed a prescience of our Fate
from comparison of China the simple and enduring, with
Assyria the architect, with Egypt the astrologer, with
Nubia, more crafty than either, the turbulent mother of all
Arts. In the history of these regions I met with a ray from
the Future. The individual artificialities of the three
latter were local diseases of the Earth, and in their
individual overthrows we had seen local remedies applied;
but for the infected world at large I could anticipate no
regeneration save in death. That man, as a race, should not
become extinct, I saw that he must be “born again.”

And now it was, fairest and dearest, that we wrapped our
spirits, daily, in dreams. Now it was that, in twilight, we
discoursed of the days to come, when the Art-scarred surface
of the Earth, having undergone that purification which alone
could efface its rectangular obscenities, should clothe
itself anew in the verdure and the mountain-slopes and the
smiling waters of Paradise, and be rendered at length a fit
dwelling-place for man:—for man the
Death-purged—for man to whose now exalted intellect
there should be poison in knowledge no more—for the
redeemed, regenerated, blissful, and now immortal, but still
for the material, man.

‘Una’.

Well do I remember these conversations, dear Monos; but the
epoch of the fiery overthrow was not so near at hand as we
believed, and as the corruption you indicate did surely
warrant us in believing. Men lived; and died individually.
You yourself sickened, and passed into the grave; and
thither your constant Una speedily followed you. And though
the century which has since elapsed, and whose conclusion
brings up together once more, tortured our slumbering senses
with no impatience of duration, yet my Monos, it was a
century still.

‘Monos’.

Say, rather, a point in the vague infinity. Unquestionably,
it was in the Earth’s dotage that I died. Wearied at heart
with anxieties which had their origin in the general turmoil
and decay, I succumbed to the fierce fever. After some few
days of pain, and many of dreamy delirium replete with
ecstasy, the manifestations of which you mistook for pain,
while I longed but was impotent to undeceive you—after
some days there came upon me, as you have said, a breathless
and motionless torpor; and this was termed Death by
those who stood around me.

Words are vague things. My condition did not deprive me of
sentience. It appeared to me not greatly dissimilar to the
extreme quiescence of him, who, having slumbered long and
profoundly, lying motionless and fully prostrate in a mid-
summer noon, begins to steal slowly back into consciousness,
through the mere sufficiency of his sleep, and without being
awakened by external disturbances.

I breathed no longer. The pulses were still. The heart had
ceased to beat. Volition had not departed, but was
powerless. The senses were unusually active, although
eccentrically so—assuming often each other’s functions
at random. The taste and the smell were inextricably
confounded, and became one sentiment, abnormal and intense.
The rose-water with which your tenderness had moistened my
lips to the last, affected me with sweet fancies of
flowers—fantastic flowers, far more lovely than any of
the old Earth, but whose prototypes we have here blooming
around us. The eye-lids, transparent and bloodless, offered
no complete impediment to vision. As volition was in
abeyance, the ***** could not roll in their sockets—
but all objects within the range of the visual hemisphere
were seen with more or less distinctness; the rays which
fell upon the external retina, or into the corner of the
eye, producing a more vivid effect than those which struck
the front or interior surface. Yet, in the former instance,
this effect was so far anomalous that I appreciated it only
as sound—sound sweet or discordant as the
matters presenting themselves at my side were light or dark
in shade—curved or angular in outline. The hearing, at
the same time, although excited in degree, was not irregular
in action—estimating real sounds with an extravagance
of precision, not less than of sensibility. Touch had
undergone a modification more peculiar. Its impressions were
tardily received, but pertinaciously retained, and resulted
always in the highest physical pleasure. Thus the pressure
of your sweet fingers upon my eyelids, at first only
recognized through vision, at length, long after their
removal, filled my whole being with a sensual delight
immeasurable. I say with a sensual delight. All my
perceptions were purely sensual. The materials furnished the
passive brain by the senses were not in the least degree
wrought into shape by the deceased understanding. Of pain
there was some little; of pleasure there was much; but of
moral pain or pleasure none at all. Thus your wild sobs
floated into my ear with all their mournful cadences, and
were appreciated in their every variation of sad tone; but
they were soft musical sounds and no more; they conveyed to
the extinct reason no intimation of the sorrows which gave
them birth; while large and constant tears which fell upon
my face, telling the bystanders of a heart which broke,
thrilled every fibre of my frame with ecstasy alone. And
this was in truth the Death of which these bystanders
spoke reverently, in low whispers—you, sweet Una,
gaspingly, with loud cries.

They attired me for the coffin—three or four dark
figures which flitted busily to and fro. As these crossed
the direct line of my vision they affected me as forms;
but upon passing to my side their images impressed me
with the idea of shrieks, groans, and, other dismal
expressions of terror, of horror, or of woe. You alone,
habited in a white robe, passed in all directions musically
about.

The day waned; and, as its light faded away, I became
possessed by a vague uneasiness—an anxiety such as the
sleeper feels when sad real sounds fall continuously within
his ear—low distant bell-tones, solemn, at long but
equal intervals, and commingling with melancholy dreams.
Night arrived; and with its shadows a heavy discomfort. It
oppressed my limbs with the oppression of some dull weight,
and was palpable. There was also a moaning sound, not unlike
the distant reverberation of surf, but more continuous,
which, beginning with the first twilight, had grown in
strength with the darkness. Suddenly lights were brought
into the rooms, and this reverberation became forthwith
interrupted into frequent unequal bursts of the same sound,
but less dreary and less distinct. The ponderous oppression
was in a great measure relieved; and, issuing from the flame
of each lamp (for there were many), there flowed unbrokenly
into my ears a strain of melodious monotone. And when now,
dear Una, approaching the bed upon which I lay outstretched,
you sat gently by my side, breathing odor from your sweet
lips, and pressing them upon my brow, there arose
tremulously within my *****, and mingling with the merely
physical sensations which circumstances had called forth, a
something akin to sentiment itself—a feeling that,
half appreciating, half responded to your earnest love and
sorrow; but this feeling took no root in the pulseless
heart, and seemed indeed rather a shadow than a reality, and
faded quickly away, first into extreme quiescence, and then
into a purely sensual pleasure as before.

And now, from the wreck and the chaos of the usual senses,
there appeared to have arisen within me a sixth, all
perfect. In its exercise I found a wild delight—yet a
delight still physical, inasmuch as the understanding had in
it no part. Motion in the animal frame had fully ceased. No
muscle quivered; no nerve thrilled; no artery throbbed. But
there seemed to have sprung up in the brain that of
which no words could convey to the merely human intelligence
even an indistinct conception. Let me term it a mental
pendulous pulsation. It was the moral embodiment of man’s
abstract idea of Time. By the absolute equalization
of this movement—or of such as this—had the
cycles of the firmamental orbs themselves been adjusted. By
its aid I measured the irregularities of the clock upon the
mantel, and of the watches of the attendants. Their tickings
came sonorously to my ears. The slightest deviations from
the true proportion—and these deviations were
omniprevalent—affected me just as violations of
abstract truth were wont on earth to affect the moral sense.
Although no two of the timepieces in the chamber struck the
individual seconds accurately together, yet I had no
difficulty in holding steadily in mind the tones, and the
respective momentary errors of each. And this—this
keen, perfect self-existing sentiment of
duration—this sentiment existing (as man could
not possibly have conceived it to exist) independently of
any succession of events—this idea—this sixth
sense, upspringing from the ashes of the rest, was the first
obvious and certain step of the intemporal soul upon the
threshold of the temporal eternity.

It was midnight; and you still sat by my side. All others
had departed from the chamber of Death. They had deposited
me in the coffin. The lamps burned flickeringly; for this I
knew by the tremulousness of the monotonous strains. But
suddenly these strains diminished in distinctness and in
volume. Finally they ceased. The perfume in my nostrils died
aw
In the meantime in the Állos kósmos or Ultramundi, Wonthelimar after hearing the speeches and paragraphs of the speakers saw from paradise how Calypso Lepidoptera appeared, approaching in great magnitudes on the dry land on the banks of the blue and golden stones of Skalá. In torrents of rushing from the water-sky with wind-water, by geomorphological hydraulics of the collapse of the irresistible capacity to harass each other in the ears of Seleuco's dialogues, after they piled up in the sneaking curds of him on the island of his speech. Right there it settled from the koelum or sky of the Lepidoptera from the Orofí or ceiling, on the natural arches of aeolian erosion and its devastating plumage, appearing in the subaerial splendor of Chauvet and its gloomy darkness, changing the morphology of the bank of Skalá turned into enchanted turquoise light also with Calypso nuances. From here Wonthelimar obscures the circumflex arc or circumflexes, which pierced and eroded the surface, piling up the ex-generals of Alexander the Great, to skewer them on the stump that was languidly seen supporting them, after the tides of Lepidoptera that avalanche in destined per capita towards the destined underworld of Wonthelimar.

Wonthelimar was separated from everyone by the moat that was separated from the gods of the surface, but now where the supporters of Seleucus were predestined by imbibing themselves in the bilocated kingdom of Chauvet and its darkness, where they were put into agreements of suitability and clarity of words discursive for the eagerness to persuade his major general. But they all fell into the middle of a dark Ultraworld, judging themselves to be dying in stockpiles of biosystems where no one helped them and gave them some indication or diagnosis of being separated from the canopy that drained them from spectral affairs, speaking as vivid visions of benefits and sovereignties that escaped from themselves without contemplation or quietism of the human race, which procreates xenophobia to kings without throne or nation. Under the Attic, calendar were the months here were only eighth, Anthesterion, received them with the name directly of the main festival celebrated in this month, Anthesteria. In goods of name contests in the semester of Pyanepsia, Thargelia, and Skira where they were relatively significant, in some of the greatest celebrations in the life of a Polis, which is not recognized in the name of the month. Some sparkled in the sound of the Great Dionysia celebrated in Elaphebolion (ninth month), and the Panathenaia in which they are only indirectly recognized in Hekatombaion (month one), named after the hecatomb, of the sacrifice of "one hundred oxen" celebrated at night. End of the Panathenaia. This is where the suspicious fondness of both families of Seleucus and Alexander the Great differed in the accent that marks the written line of the infra Polis, where the leaders of Haides or Hades are lost, for the purposes of Aïdes, as not indivisible, but with the presence of Wonthelimar, who is invisible but epically static on his balustrade in all the rings that chorally wore them for each patronage of the diádocos generals, even so he had betrayed the Hellenic legacy, by a Hellenic-Orthodox one in the disappearance of Alexander the Great in Babylon without knowing that it had been rescued by Wonthelimar, surpassing the limits of the rings of stefánes ibix, or Aros de íbiz, as nano kvantikoí daktýlioi, quantum nano-ring that augured to sensitize the dermis of its carpal phalanges, from the eighth, Anthesterion to Elaphebolion (ninth month), minus the one hundred and twenty days of gestation in a month of the attic of imníbiz, that it was of wise advice to receive him in the new engend rivers of Wonthelimar in the depths and bundles of marrow with gestation forms of an Ibex goat, with their embedded bases of stalagmites, filing the meaning of each life that was lodged in the depths of the caves and its opacity. The Eygues of Valdaine was the Acheron, but with half the deceased who sat in rows and unleashed their laurels that possessed poor aids tormented by mandrake root hands.

The underworld was a swamp that covered the heels of the diádocos in the immense blackness of the cavern that wounded them one and the other with its Kopis, by more than a hundred blows and slashes that covered them with mud and moans in their buried half bodies. That they had been intruded from linear entrances to the underworld of Wonthelimar. In the thick musts of the quagmire where objects with ornaments of fear and cavalier materiality lay, such mangrove deserts satiated with gloomy fibromyalgia and amnesia, refiguring in the wandering bones, that sinned in lights and destinies that were adopted in the sub-world with incorporeal needs., more than the exhaustion that tore the skeletal muscle of each one behind the meager compromise openings, in the strong ligaments of the host Wonthelimar that took them at forced steps towards paradises where there will never be consciousness from a Theseus typology, but from a sub taxonomy - Verthian mythological, for purposes and among others that unleash it by propelling self-infernos that are not those born by a Macedonian force or Satrap into puny kings turned into a servile, mute and decayed.

It is necessary, that solitude of all the entrances from the abyss into which they fell, was titanic and of ultraphobic acquiescent inspiration, and in the acid gestures of search of Persephone or Aerse that in random gestures fled from their persecutors, like females who ended fleeing from themselves falling into the back room where the end of souls is never exceeded or Psyché re emigrating from the punishments of a satire or a static that resulted in a ghostly wandering, or in tendentious spinners that tribulated in belated bundles of repentance. From primitive times, subjugations have been longed for in kings who would never think of leaving their cracks and washing their hands behind the backs of others who stood by, leaving the courage to lose themselves in the perversity of a body deposited in the Tartars, having to give them their prehistoric debts and meadows of carpeted debts and caged rooms.

The generals commanded by Seleucus walked barefoot along with the stump that wounded them in seams for their plantar areas, and in extreme distress, they did not dare to ask mercy from the cave host who transported them through the deep pit of perpetuity, where the frigid bullet of angina of Wothelimar, filled them with memories that protected their survival. In unworthy caprice and watery *****,… it ran frivolously down their legs, even after each impulse to recover the flashes of estimating being scared of oneself, after finding dead fruits subsisted halfway, feeling voices from the origin of the abyss that I quoted them.

Etréstles says: "Mashiach allow me to enter this grave, I do not know if I should go to rescue them, because I know what will happen..., I only ask that if I enter with courage, help me to find the same light of the exit, with the same memory of not to waste arrests, and not to lose myself in my entrustment by those who I know will not return”

Behind some Sabine poplars, it is seen how the elytra of the Lepidoptera were opened for those who crossed from the darkness without the appearance of their fruitful eyes that tickled praises of surrender, and not of ibid in the ibid that surrounded them, as if they were violated that heal at the moment when their faces departed from the miracle of privacy, and from the solitude decreed of non-existent company, companionship calming any dogmatic symptoms and hypoxia that the glimpse of the Eygues and the Acheron left them, further behind in which Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth, Reader and Petrobus to bring Etréstles back.

Saint John the Apostle says: “Vernarth go for your brother,… he wants to protect the souls of Seleucus and his comrades, go soon because there is little left to fill them with darkness which will even besiege in their reasoning and anti homelands that will not be from the din of the campanile, out of tune with joy that runs on the graces of the gift that frees you from the worst virus by not being anti-viral… ”.

Vernarth replies: “Etréstles is the slogan of Erebus, perhaps of Bumodos…, I have to stop him for his profession, since the comrades of Seleuco will not return, the effigies of Wonthelimar have made them of his children in Ultramundi, and what is Solstice of the underworld, it is only a small Sun that fits in the buttonhole of the orthogonal slot that confines it”.

At that time Raeder paraded where he before they reached the omega of the gully pit, running swiftly over the eyelets of Wonthelimar, leaving both completely naked, to tear them away from the contrived spell and bring Etrestles back all the way together and running., but both stripped of lightness and acceleration escaped from the centripetal bodies. After the tortured walls of the pit, they no longer supported themselves in their Skotos or Erebo of Wothelimar in such a primordial deity of this theogonic and fantastic event in the bilocated cavern of Chauvet in Skalá. Here all the densities and units of physical genres, from above and below surrounded them in the thick sulfur atmosphere, Ananké in such a goddess of inevitability ran after all who tried to reverse the situation of the diádocos, for the purpose of consenting their paragraphs Hellenics and to save their lives, but the mother of the Moiras went behind Etréstles and Vernarth along with Rader and Petrobus who were basking in the glow of Persephone that imbued them as they stagnated drinking mead with the Canephores who followed him. From this cryptic moment or from the bombastic insignia of Crete, Kanti's trotting from his Cretan figure was felt united with the Lepidoptera Calypso, redeeming Demeter from her crying on the edge of some Bern olive trees, emptier now that the last gradients of the agonic and venous voices in the hilarious of some diádocos that were completely absorbed by the benevolent illusion of Wonthelimar, snowy in the harrowing tenuity of his gestures and of the great Iberian that took them towards the heights of the hillocks and towards the Ultramundi that It turned them into proles of the mountainous areas, and into super aquatic monsters with thousands of loose eyes in the arches of the generals bleating, which transposed ****** subjugations of primal deities, and philastics of phantasmagorical genres of Hellas that is plucked from the peritoneum of their stomachs, and that guttural eradicated them from the blue adrenaline of Apollo.

This odyssey dispelled the orthogonal lines of the poetic affliction of those who could see the sunset and the Spyché ***** that antagonized Ananké's numinous efforts to extubate them, and perhaps exile them to the Theban plains to graze Achaeans of the first degree alongside Shamash. Lamenting of young afternoons and of the abysmal with beautiful hair of the generous of effects, swampy and of feverish Hadesian or Hade's rounds that crippled their districts, they emanated from some Marie Curie junk and vapors radiating this Parapsychological Quantum to them from their own holy final body., for a virtuous and rout of the Ultramundis of Wonthelimar.
Wonthelimar Ultramundi
entropy Aug 2018
the cascade of clear blue falls even in the midst of the furvous night
the call of a bird echoes cross canyons composed of ages of old
the glint off amber cliffs calls to the reflection of ancience
floors of sandstone riddled with stagnant ghosts of footprints
these paths were once walked by those larger than life

we search for purpose radiometrically
estimating the desperation in the dating
allowing our hearts to sink to an endless expanse of unexplored sediment
grasping onto the aching for the pleasure beneath the pain
self decay feels natural at the bottom of the ocean

peace comes naturally while disappearing into pieces
it will find me upon the return of the rogue daughter to the expanse in which she belongs
may my atomic descendents one day hold the fossils of my being between their fingers
let the earth shake under the feet of whom possesses my bones
and let them keep digging, let them excavate all of us whole
i don't like this! but my classmates did. from last semester :)
martin Jan 2012
I saw a woman today
Her hair a burnished amber
She showed me her orchard
Her gleaming silver turbine
Her warm red Rayburn
She opened up the door
The wood glowed inside
Golden bricks in patterns on the floor
We spoke about her grandmother
Her man was there
I noticed the way he looked at her
I smiled
It's good to be alive
477

No Man can compass a Despair—
As round a Goalless Road
No faster than a Mile at once
The Traveller proceed—

Unconscious of the Width—
Unconscious that the Sun
Be setting on His progress—
So accurate the One

At estimating Pain—
Whose own—has just begun—
His ignorance—the Angel
That pilot Him along—
Ian Cairns Dec 2016
We would sneak on your rooftop during every thunderstorm
Watch raindrops kiss our flannels closer  together before we knew just how powerful the clouds could be

Lightning cracked
And just like that
It's Wednesday morning
This ceiling fan drowns out that wet pitter patter as I sit up in bed
Estimating how much water these bodies can hold
I tell myself the rain here settles down better than I do

I close my eyes
Pretend every droplet becomes another letter you sent for me
Pretend my silence now is just as deafening as my silence then
And the skies rip open
Your voice drips down my window pane onto my carpet
Asks me one last time for an answer

So I just want you to know
When we grabbed our hearts and became the flood
I thought we would be free
This nefarious rubble is all that's left
And now you're gone

I haven't slept much since I left
Most nights I stand at my window and wait for the wind to greet me
If I stand close enough, I can spot the stream behind my bedroom here
The sound it makes at night frightens me
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
And though our lives move on and our days continue to be filled with the life we had all once left behind, we still remember. And though we wake up each morning with a new crowed of people to share our breakfast with, we still remember. Etched into our minds like those three numbers we held so dear as a symbol of our freedom and identity. Those three numbers that separated you enough to show ones independence, but connected you with a community of people who forever would fill every waking (and sometimes sleeping) moments of your life. These three numbers, coupled with a key, representing a time of transition from parental curfews, sober nights, and childish antics to a life of frivolous and naked moments. Passing into a time where the only sober though one had was that approaching deadline and getting everyone home safe. A time where basketball games, endless games of cards, crazy dance parties, shower time, movie nights, redbird pizza runs, *** talks, burning frat houses, fights with floor 8, board games, and multiple YOUTUBE sensations took precedence over whatever was due the next day. And though our nights sometime met the light of day; we continued in our ways knowing each morning when we awoke the day was ours and would be filled with people who would make every moment spectacular. So with our new found life consuming us we ignored the grains as they fell towards a time when the life we had come to know and love would be thrown into a whirlwind of tears, hugs and goodbyes. But that day has come and gone; and though promises were made and dates set, we still can’t help to remember those three numbers and those people who made them more then just a room number. And though those days are gone and we consider our selves grown, we can’t help but cling to childish moments where friendships were forged and long lasting bonds made by a simple acceptance button found on our social portals. A bond that we now hold to for dear life as a means to keep one another connected. Connected to those people who became our life line in times of good and bad; those same people who we shared the good and bad moments with and knew we could turn to no matter what. Those same people whose lives we would put in front of ours and bend over backwards for no matter the cost or how empty our wallets may seem. And even when we found our selves counting quarters and estimating how many loads we could run, we always knew we could count on the person across the hall or right next door to fill that half hour until our whites were done. We laughed, and we cried, we made nick names for each other and threw up in each others arms. We watch each other run around naked, made never ending “that’s what she said jokes,” and maybe kissed a few people we never thought we could. And though nights got out of hand and feels hurt here or there, regret is something none of us feel. For regret is an emotion that holds no place between people whose moments with one another were made priceless because of how embarrassing or stupid we acted. Stupid, embarrassing moments that we have come to cherish and hold close to our hearts in the hopes to keep those people we refer to as our kin with us when distance challenges our very bonds. Moments that cannot be duplicated, remade, imitated, or passed off as a normal Saturday afternoon; but rather remembered and someday share with our kids and grandkids as they move in for their first year of college. And when our kids and grandkids are overcome with emotion and come to us for advice about conquering the college scene, we can say from the depths of our hearts that the people they meet in college will forever change their life and make them a better person. Those same people whom I could never replace, and can’t wait to embrace as brother and sister when the next semester of ISU rolls around. :)
Says Vernarth: “Khaire to my beloved beings that surround me, including my ***** that move their tails to the rhythm of my awakening. To you my dear Brother, I stayed with my ceramic asleep and I could not sip from the last harvest of ideas and its temporary forks, which came from my parapsychologies. I am delighted among these blankets that smell like cornfields that prevented me from seeing him closer when I already had them in my hands. Now I not only see beyond what my arm measures in its omega, where my own estimating what flower I have to carry and see what it will have to carry in me!

Once upon a time, seven donkeys woke up, the first one who did it went to look for bread, milk, and honey, the second played the tambourine for his master, the third sprinkled the flowers with holy water, the fourth was vernacular in the others, the fifth was in charge of carrying stones and logs in bundles to make the elbows and the masts of the beams, the sixth reconciled the morning with the sun to have a clear day, and the seventh brought the akratismós on a tray, which brought a colt on its back and in a wineskin, bringing juice from the Procoro winepress and Akratos wine, which the colt eventually moved with its leg so that it could be served. Seeing that he gave signs of awakening and opening his bleary eyes, the seven of them laughed and brayed when they saw that he could not hold himself, but when he saw one of them who had had temporary amnesia, he faced him in the sunny morning so that he would face to the wind from the coast that began to bring them figs, like an Ariston or early lunch to strengthen him on his head, more remote of all because he thought too much. The third donkey would make two tortillas from neighboring cornfields that had just been baked, these he used as plates or trays to roll the fruits, vegetables, and barley bread. Vernarth laughs along with them and hugs them again. The containers that accompanied him had the solidity to fill with a few liters of water enough to bathe, after having fiddled with the ******, which reminded him of Orion, but of the meatus that would now be used to ink the thread of the spindle, which pretended to be divine. with hemp and cotton to rub the woods that he had destined for the main timber of the façade. Then he puts on his himation and on it the fibula that protected the serum from his right shoulder. He takes some pieces of logs and lights a bonfire to cook infusions and chalks of his personal medicine, from the collection of his private demiurge, Borker. He placed his tools behind a florilegium, where he received his astragalus by means of his jumping donkeys, and sometimes they would turn around him for hours to soften his immediate floor so that he would not be bothered by the rubbing of the grass and his pectoralis would over-sensitize. But in the end, they traced with him as seven divine golden numbers, which were added one next to the other, for each birth of his mother having to use a third of the womb to shelter them, like equid specimens in their 14 months of age. gestation. As if they were pollen sacs that were the origin of the androecium of all creation in the gynoecium sector. The morphology of this analogical floral relationship alludes to the anthos or flower that matures in the expression of the animals that surrounded Vernarth, and its filaments that derived from the spindle and its promised threads that connected with the fertile connection of the donkeys, making present the cellular magnetism of father and mother for them. Almost like a sordid weight that could not be supported in his genome, it was the serum that sweetly emerged from the nectary of his shoulder, rather close to the sternum, but his burritos produced good moments of the company for him, knowing that if he ran his hands over his satin back, he also longed to ***** the bristles of his stiff hairs, which decided his species, like bristly donkeys only pending his immunity.

Saint John and Etréstles approach and they say to him:
Etréstles comments: “It is said that I must be near you, just as I was in the forests near Piacenza, or after setting sail from Sardinia or Hylates. Then arriving on the coasts of Florence, La Spezia and finally Genoa, it is said that not far from here in Messolonghi, there are books that are written for you, they are wonderful, and everyone reads it, it is called Vernarth Alexandri Magni Macedonis officer Primum "Vernarth First Commander of Alexander the Great." It is said that there is a dispute over the guarantee of your magical verses for those who write it and for those who read it, as an experience that most pleases those who transcribe it because when you stop your verses, they mention that their infantry tale has not reached them. , which is being reborn in all necropolises, such as the Koumeterium of Messolonghi. It is said that there is an extreme reason for unity in the Divine Number of Gold that extends through the seas of Troy and Athens, in the patronage of Fidas for his agora of with the disciple of Agoracritus. It is said between June 21 and 24 the Sun or Shemesh for you, it begins to move away and flushes in its suspicious perihelion, it is said that we will dance in the sacred space, and Archimedes will dance together with us with his Elves, and it is said because I say it! We will have Mother Nature knocking her down at our melted feet, full of ****** Bern olive trees and rotten grasses that announce the freedom to be united, together with all the books in the world, under her great Hellenic library that will never stop going and running after the last leaves of the apocalypse "

Saint John intervenes: "My half reason, is my whole heart, my whole heart is my extreme half, which totalizes the segments of the magic of always surviving and resurrecting in the golden number, thus its length squeezes the shortest way to go behind of the donkeys and lose their memory, if not half sheep of my reason and my heart guiding them "

Neither the Oniros duo nor the third would impede Verrnarth to embrace them, but he was in his purging, behind a severe veil, but from the ductile ectoplasm that already separated them from their ethereal physical plane, it was only possible with donkeys to pass from one dimension to another. other. Thus the arcs of the circle of the sun surpassed the rule of being contained in the supreme analogy from above and below, only the points of ab / cb went beyond the spiritual eclectic portal, to attract them to ab / ac, hinting at the midpoint of the Equidae that brayed to thank Saint John for the Apostle who could be close to him and caress his ears, which were the highest and golden point of his omega garden.
Golden Donkeys
Julia Sep 2014
Pain. It hurts so bad
Shattering you inside.

Pain. Your beating heart
Is no longer alive.

Pain. Your weary eyes
Are blinded with dark lights.

Pain. The suffering
And guilt of your life.

Pain. Your teardrops
Stain your blotchy face.

Pain. Your veins throb
Expelling adrenaline as you fade.

Pain. Your mind goes blank
You don't have the attention you crave.

Pain. Your lips are cracked
After crying for hours straight.

Pain. You're shivering with cold
And no one will keep you safe.

Pain. Peer over the edge
Estimating the fall.

Pain. It's all you have
Once you fall in love.
Walking around with low self esteem.
Living life as though it's a dream
Not seeing others with her eyes.
Trying to figure them out and sort their lies
But every time she loses the game
Every accident turns out the same.
Over estimating the kindness of others is her flaw
No one can figure out why she never talks about what she saw
Falling down, she is troubled by stupidity
Locked inside her brain, such thick humidity
Causing a fog that blinds her from reality
Once again she is trapped in her path
Feeling these feelings that cause such a wrath
That she feels the need to end her life
Despite her promises of leaving her knife
These feelings grow stronger everyday.
Never shown through the words she has to say.
Kezia Ann Joseph Oct 2014
It happened on one fine morning, as sun peeped into my hostel room
I pulled my sheet over my head and prayed to lengthen night hours
But alarm rang mercilessly ting -tong,ting-tong
Scratching my eyes, stretching my arms as wide as could,
I yawned and woke up to start an eventful day.
I felt enervated and  body ache added to my stagnation.
I did my daily morning routines half heartedly,
as cosiness of bed was seducing me back to it.
I donned in my uniform, ran to the mirror.
I sensed an itching on my back, I touched it with my fingers.
Under- estimating it as a mosquito bite, I turned attention to my hair.
Suddenly I noticed a dew drop on my chest
Curiously I looked up to find any leaking in concrete ceiling
It protruded up here and there, without any order.
I felt like playing "connect -the -dots" during my school days.
I consulted doctor, he diagnosed it as chickenpox
and gave me sick leave along with prescription.
Those who were already immune to this, gave me tips to care.
Rest moved away from me with "respect" and wished  "get well soon"
My father came to pick me from hospital.
I packed my things and got into the car.
On the way he brought me a basket of fruits
and fed my stomach full with advice.
My homecoming was welcomed by my pet dog's bark.
It got annoyed as I didn't pamper her as usual.
I opened windows of my sojourn kingdom.
It endowed me with a feeling of extending my  horizon .
I saw dew drops on leaves, hanging down to fall,
dancing in breeze and sparkling in morning sun light.
I wrote this poem, while i was suffering from chickenpox.....
Ammar Younas Dec 2018
To whom this moon is navigating tonight?
You are so shining and radiating tonight

My soul is dancing in rhythm of dim light
Songs of your bangles are agitating tonight

Grandma told me to wish to a falling star
I wished long ago but still awaiting tonight

It was your gravity which kept me encircling
I'm not in my orbit and deviating tonight

How many sleeps your thoughts have spoiled yet
Nights are awakening and aggregating tonight

Earth, air, water, fire seem to be disturbed now
All our horoscopes are escalating tonight

Will our stars be matching in next life?
Astrologists are meeting and estimating tonight

I had requested some place in her heart
I heard, she agreed and allocating tonight
Chaz Kirshcmann May 2013
You and me
we will be free
our love
it can be

takes work
pleasure comes first
pain gets worse

focus on
delusions come
path is lost
so we fought

consumed by thought
we lose ourselves
like we knew
who we were

your less important now
I am under rated now
under estimating each other
fighting makes it easy

we became jaded
seeking i don't know what
expecting to control everything
in our hearts

I wanted peace
thought you were it
till I lost it
we wasn't
Ruby Watson Oct 2012
Noun: Estimating something as worthless.

Example: "How much value you've put on my heart"
(FLOK-si-NO-si-NY-HIL-i-PIL-i-fi-KAY-shuhn)

This word was coined by combining four Latin terms flocci, nauci, nihili, pili, all meaning something of little or no value, which were listed in the well-known "Eton Latin Grammar" of Eton College in the UK.

The Oxford English Dictionary shows the first use of the word by William Shetstone in 1777

Thanks to Reddit, I did learn something new today!
November 4th

The weather it seems, seems time to put on your coat,
but the way the wind blows,
a way nobody knows
will have you put your coats away,
but as the weathermen say:
”we’ll be delivered from the heat by snow this Thursday.”

Satchmo Bukowski
wants a bottle in front of me
not a frontal lobotomy.
What’s it to stop drinking?
smoking, though—it’s the best season
for it. Rather die than give up.

Yeah, my ****’s distorted, same with my story
that I tell you now, but it lives each day twice—
but like Christ down the mountain
I come forth emblazoned,
no more reckless nor hopeful than him.

Halloween here, we saw the dead dress up.
We pulled together costumes
while estimating the temperature.
As the day shortens
and night falls as you clock out,
so our phase of experience does;
so the creatures of dark troll;
so the climb though the black berry patch
becomes the only visible path.
Esther Apr 2016
Yesterday’s integrity is lost
To the shrewd entry of today,
With all its hopeful blandness
Sinking into my skin as the sun rises
Ever so gently along the broken horizon
Where vultures escape the peril
Of the murderous day and hide in caves-
Away from the hungry pecking of
So many people in too many places,
As the sky seeks to triangulate
The presence of time within the confined space
Of the undynamic maze of man
As he moves gallingly through the elements
Past my drowsy numbness in the early hours
Magnetized into the dull thumping
Rhythms of action we all anticipate;
Estimating concepts I could never
For the life of me, regurgitate.
Nat Lipstadt Oct 26
disclaimer:
a long poem, tumbled out complete,
feel free to *** along

<!>

a poem that does not need writing,
scripted once before(1), sung this song,
nonetheless the heart purges,
then
newly urges
for fresh eyes to revise

for each second, four new babes come
into these world, estimating that one
will be infect by poesy, and there is
and yet,
no-known/cure, there be no disturbance,
no Cain mark distinguishing,
no sign from heaven,

so this enlivening disease, sometimes takes
almost a generation to bud, blossom (4) and pollinate the world with its unique nectar, uncontained, unconditionally & uncontrollable, and naturally,
incurable

by you awoken & aware of yourself
as a carrier, the strange heart rate
display of your EKG, that the doc
cannot explain, with that extra heart
beating beat (2) revealed, tell them not
to worry
it’s ok,
it’s a genetic
that makes you
tick
that’s yours
distinct,
and

there is no cure expected, no foundation advertising for dollars to lead the fight,
maybe one that does exact opposite, but no
matter, the infection becomes a condition,
with symptoms diagnoseable by the
colored gleaming lights in your
aggregating eyes

then comes the days of
frustrated declination
when every undisciplined
***** ditty wordy rejected,
crumpled and to the round
container sailing,
that’s the pain for the gain,
though all natural talent marked
by higher standards
self~imposed,
for only you can judge
when it’s good enough to satisfy
the judges observing,

the ones astride you
on each shoulder,
censoring the trite,
******* you back into the fight,
and soliciting you to go easier
on that body
for it already contains
all the nutty nutrients
that will combust
into a poem
that will be any equivalent
to an
******  of
new life breaching the
mind’s cautious customary warnings

so much more to tell,
by way of example,
who are the
predecessors that give me instant inspiration,
in the expectation of periods of
Saharan drought, (3)
the need to jot every random thoughts,
for oft
we compose in drips and dabs,
every birth owns its own timetable,
took Cohen ten years
to make Hallelujah satisfactory,
theiving so/too much of your time,
until the best distraction arrives,
announcing the following;

“if I did not truly loved her
it would be causas belli
should I fail not to
bring her an ember of
coffee”



but writing in the moment
is a stupendous momentous
so smile sweet,
tell her where to go,

where
the mug with Hawaiian scents
awaits, and let her lover
decompose what needs saying

immédiate
right now!

so by way of closure
I ask you
why
are you still reading this too **** long
soliloquy
and not
stariing into a world
of words
all your own?
<>
for
inscribed upon your every breath,
are
your words,
a trickery uniquery
to which

nothing will ever compare
<>
this one, came atumbling, stumbling
in one fall fell swooping on a Sabbath morning,
10/26/24, between
6:00am and 9:00am
>>
(1) https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2433933/0-followers/

(2) https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4767467/intrinsically-intrigued-by-my-irregular-irreverent-extra-heartbeat/

(3) Hafiz, Whitman
(4) started writing late, in my sixth decade
Anonymous Apr 2014
Bro
In the safety
Of sanctity
I deride and derail
Snort derisive
Sweet Jesus and me
Laughing at everyone
Especially you.

All that image
All that you planned
Sure and He's everywhere
Watching the water rise
Estimating your worth
Cashing in on you.

Your van and your force-fed crew
Nobody ever wanted to out and out *******
But I think Jesus has had enough
And He's going to lose you in the rough
The rough, rough rain
Like a hurricane
Gonna call your number up.

This pigeon on my shoulder
You call Jesus and He strolls on over
Say your piece and He shrugs nonchalant
I don't believe you have anything He wants.

You're just a stupid ****
With ten times the luck
And Jesus sees you
You better believe it, Bro, you are seen
Jesus snorts derisively
Jesus snorted all the coke outta me.

He attempts to reiterate
Love thy brother and grant fresh starts
But chokes on the dust
And laughing hysterically
Points meaningless fingers
At what He thinks might matter.

Jesus is as Jesus does
A man subscribed to most of this mess
Having a good ol' time
His direction is half the crime.

It could be
It could be, Bro
You been walked down some line
Told this, this, that, and have a good time
Lied to and trialled, smiled at and lied to
Eating some man-made celestial ****
Yep, that's you.
Bible says it's true
So true
Bible says a lot of ****
Lots of ****
Yeah
That's you.
Jimmy Desire Dec 2012
Play your part
Practice your art
Create your distance
And watch her back arch
Fluidity in your charm
But your doubt stunts you
Pessimistic thoughts haunt you
And when it all seems to be going well your mind gets to racing
Better yet estimating when your luck will end…
Coy and timid you seem to set limits to what you can do
Shame because that’s the point where you really start to lose
It’s your path to choose
Continue to on this gentlemanly cruise second guessing every move
Or pull the trigger and just take action
No thoughts required just fire.
If she worth it, don’t overthink it
Embrace it.
Julie Butler Jun 2014
i have been led to believe , in my experience with being in-love,
that love is based on the knowledge gained and profound simplicity of feeling entirely connected and enamored with another person; that this feeling takes time after a period of time in which the party in question would eat together, go on hikes, dancing, movies, borrow a shirt, go to church, beach etc. whatever / estimating anywhere from one week to 5 months ... & sometimes even longer than that. (I KNOW) - those of you who believe in love at first sight ... well you're another breed... anyway... love at first sight ... like i was saying ...
I went to the store tonight.
I bought toilet paper and beer.
I stood in a very long line.
I watched a woman put back a box of ice-cream and felt proud of her; even though she didn't look happy for doing it -
she just didn't want to stand in that line and would probably get ice cream elsewhere!
On my walk back from that grocery store (about half a block from the store)
I looked up from lifting the beer
because it wasn't comfortable to hold it how i was holding it ....  
and I saw
someone walking to their car
This girl
The girl
this girl
and she smiled at me
she wore a beanie
and she was thin
and her hair was brown i think
I only saw her for 5 or 6 seconds
which at the time felt like a long time
but my short term memory isn't great sometimes
and her face is starting to fade  now
but i still see it
i see her neck
and I see her smile
it embarrassed me a little
it's funny when you grin at someone
I grin at people on the street all the time
it's quick
it's fixed
but a smile ... it has levels
this one
went from a friendly grin
to a shy
growing smile
with eyes
and shoulders
and heart
and stomach
and I didn't know about that difference
(until tonight)
but it filled me up
and i felt drunk on it
and i felt everything
and i felt all of it
in 5 seconds
and it's bugging me now
because i can't shake it
and i don't know why
i've never felt like this
not
one
bit
and i went home
and i told my best friend
and she told me to write about it
so here I am
and it's been a few hours now
and my friend is alseep
and I think she's asleep
and I should be asleep
and I think i'm over it now
or just over thinking
and over thinking
but i'm still thinking about it
and i haven't really climbed
so i'm not over anything
so i'll keep smiling instead
because it made me smile
and that felt good
and i just want to sit with that
and she gave me that
and that's all it has to be
so I believe in love at first sight
it's the best
it is what it is.
and that's beautiful
Ken Pepiton Oct 2023
Entertained.
Contained.
Maintained.
Retaining access to once knowns,
sit still listening, not thinking anything
- calling living winning, then quitting.

Get up and ask the truth to forgive
me as I have forgiven, and correct me
where my functioning is hindering.

Stretching the cord to tie the load…

Become what truth embodied is,
cushion the fall from the stacked
featherbeds for religious businesses-

thumpwhump, takes y'breathaway

Conscienceless conscious necience,
all automated - due souly to luck in
the making of DNA, you see,
discovery is the easy part,
much more inter-
esting testing resting mind mingle,
estimating instants time in transit…
imagining the code used to build
the ladder, up one side, down the other.

Handling, managing manacled hopes,
most substantial, dashed to smithereens,
whither in the rearview I see you not looking,
not noticing the era we lived through, seeing

sublime simplicity unfold before us as we examine
essential, necience, non knowing unrecognizable,

feeling path, finding fortunate occasional fruit sweet,
as a path crossing fruiting bough slaps

sweetness perception from reward schedules,
stinging sensation, signal sending saying, it's okeh,
sudden sinking subtle ******* muddy awareness,

sniff, just agnosis dripping,
thinking life's a trip, travel light.
Not knowing necience is a word, I find poetic, and either real, rather,
spiritual, or mater-real. An occasion is a falling out, or down essentially.
nescience
nĕsh′əns, nĕsh′ē-əns, nēsh′-, nĕs′ē-əns, nē′sē-
noun
Absence of knowledge or awareness; ignorance.
Agnosticism.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
if you're asking me to be subhuman
give me a plot-line, i'd find one among the Zimbabweans
a minute later, but give me a plot-line,
i just want to know the hierarchy  from now on...
a Dutch spat in a Polish girl's face...
give me the ******* plot-line! or is this one of those moments
where you say: ja zapomnieć mówienia po polsku.
oh, you're one of those hybrids?!
should have told me sooner!
how's the Sunday roast treating you?
it's a bit dry, i admit, typical Pole-lack...
fights for independence from the Rus and the Prus
and then gets **** with the **** that pays him...
like some Chilean **** of a fake shaman,
or some Afro, gets ****** on all fours
for posterity being the reasonable standard...
has no pride, no ulterior motive, just sits there
expecting relief without working for it,
what a lucky bunch of beetroots, chequers in cheek,
rosy, the next flush of hope in casual conversation
estimating the standards of non-racial involvement
inside post-Saxony is Ulster -
they really want retards and are anti-bilingual,
the same plague that met the Normans, the Cnut
brigadiers, they want inbreeding, but as the ladies
say: better ****-pickup-grooming than a white
boy fanciful of romance... ain't that a pretty sight...
had to revolve upon the thick-skinned ones...
the ones who would't sue...
but with us Russia... ***** whipped by Jews and
cinnamon skinned ones are we? ***** - you said it,
i'm reaffirming;
you could have been colonial with them -
i won't let your colonial subjects turn colonial on me!
Jonathan Scott May 2014
That which they lack in longevity
They compensate with in narcissistic egotrocity.
Such odd creatures, those confined within humanity,
Always over-estimating, over-conjecturing
Their place and meaning in this yet to be
Disillusioned, elaborate, erratic cosmic infinity.

No other animal I since created
Have made such self-absorbed, conceited notions
Comp’rable to humanoid emotion.

I am ashamed to call them mine,
But it is so. I need not intervene,
For ere the end of World War Three,
They surely will relinquish me
Of my senseless exercise in futility.
John May 2013
Love consists of over-estimating the differences between one woman and another.
This quote.
Ke'vin Summerize Jul 2017
Catching every glimpse of beauty that is what holds me steady, Misunderstanding and under estimating the quantum possibilities that these eyes see through time and space I face the endless darkness that can hold any man steady. Dealing in disappointments or is it pointless to call for change, A feeling so strange like being on center stage, The darkness so bright I can see nothing, I can feel nothing, I am numb am I here.
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
In absence of holy ground
Wrong perception of self
Ego of Omnipotence
Wisdom of nothing
Doubting the doubts
Enlightening questions
Rejoices with the truth
Estimating degree of reality
Fragile life
All needs sleep to get wake up
Changing imprinted genes
Get changed for acceptance
Unity, not plurality
Hatred responded with Love

When mind thinks wrong
Beware of self
Spelling, “sorry”,
Transcend faculty of the mind
To end all the pain
Element of liberation
Voiding an ego of supreme being
A positive doctrine
Let it be…..
Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections, 2018.
jeffrey conyers Aug 2016
Two of the greatest miracles of my hands.
Still have people speaking of them.
And debate the substance of my truth.

This world created by the miracles of my hands has scientists estimating through research its creation.
Using elements of their minds to explain it.
nd still the debate goes on.

The next creation is the miracle birth of Christ.
My earth representative.
Some loves to state his birth wasn't to a ****** untouched cause it has never happen again.

Then many things I have done can't be explained.
And I guess I keep it that way.
Cause the miracles of my hands has a purpose far beyond you.
SelinaSharday May 2018
I  Rose. More than a Rose.
She stands there posing, strikingly.
Beauty glowing  flowing tastefully
Wrapped in history adorned with knowledge draped with class.
A eye for the future a smile for the present inspiration that will last.
Heart filled with peaceful emotions, seasoned with experiences involved
in current events.
Free from bitterness, hatred, prejudices the things that normally prevents.
Eyes infiltrating,
Nose detecting, inhaling, exhaling.
Clarity, rationality, dignity.
Expressions for all to be equally free.
Rejecting any unsavory thought.                                            
Pushing past all things unrightfully bought.
A smile, a frown, lips that perk, lips that pout.
Lips that speak of what  loves about.
Quietly gazing at her surrounding.
Admiring people as they are passing.
With a mind in tune,
Words kept not to be spoken too soon.
Never over estimating hardly judging
Tries to keep from merely speculating.
Baring six sons seasoning knights for the future.
Having laid down a foundation studied by lecture.
HeavensRosepoet more than a rose battled storms and tribulations.
Rains came to wash away burdens traces bringing jubilation.
Not many knows her story.
In future may be known her glory.
Come abide with her, read of  her, share with her comparing life its history.
We all stand like zillions of Roses protected by our thorns.
Singing our stories with the word as our swords.
Much more than just a dozen Roses.
All singing our stories with striking poses.
Giving much needed testimony it’s like healing word therapy
Inhale the fresh crisp breeze that flows from HeavensRosepoet so justly so poetically.
Despite the roughest of elements Ms.HeavensRosepoet.
She stills stands, She survives and grows.
Poem on self..
jeffrey conyers Jun 2015
You know, why you're smiling?
Others just guessing.
Others are estimating.
But deep inside you just finished a good time of that mmm love.

That keeps you smiling.
Have you energizing .
Because that mmm love was great relaxation.

A welcoming release from a hard day of work.
That sometimes, when the mood hits has you rushing home from church.

When friends, family's knocking upon the door.
You too into hear to let it distract from your joy.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2021
(churn .0
charged
q1.O - a 502 bypass)


following yesterday's ****** of an internet experience,
someone who staged being appreciative of my work
began to divulge his own innermost secrets,
two failed marriages, Vietnam...
ambitions for changing society....
childhood misery... so i replied... i tried to make
it out as empathetically as i could on some points...
and as sympathetically as i could on others...
empathy? childhood misery...
being uprooted from my homeland...
forced into learning a new language at the age of
eight with no prior knowledge:
thank god i was equipped with some flare
for the universal language of mathematics...
come to think of it, mathematics saved me...
no some crazy-*** algebra... although give me
a quadratic equation and i'll all teeth in...
so i disclosed my own "stuff"...
i'm only 35... this guy must be nearing his 70s...
he turns around and blasts at me:
only i can tell you my miseries!
you can't tell me yours! thank god he only blocked
me rather than report me...
i've archived the exchange...
once i was "instructed" that one should start reading
philosophy when one becomes older...
what's the use of that?!
when someone nearing 70 does the leftist manoeuvre
of having no discussion?!
he can stage his little tirade and block
while i'm left scratching my head...
so when do i get a chance to reply?
a 70 year old man... i was expecting more...
i'm glad of the two of us: someone matches
their age... tired old ***...
he can do his little snippet of grotesque
******* all he wants... i hate internet drama:
i avoid it at all costs: i'm yet to record a video
of myself or push out some audio:
i think i won't bother... it might attract the wrong
sort of crowd: the sort of crowd that think
reading is boring / a chore...
is this a variation of gate-keeping?
no... it's just a filtering process for the readership...
it was supposed to be this great escape come
Friday night...
well... the true escape only came today...
i finished studying up on my NVQ preliminaries...
almost finished the English section,
one section left... i'll do that tomorrow...
fill in the first module for the NVQ...
today i sat down to the mathematics section...
GCSE statistics, mode, median... mean... range...
but i swear to God, not at GCSE level did we
ever touch upon the: estimating the mean
of a frequency group...

e.g. the sequence already rearranged
to find the median:
   11, 15, 17, 20, 20, 28, 32, 39, 46
to find the interval?
   range: 46 - 11 = 35 ÷ 3 = 12 ergo...

groups   freq.   mid-point    f x m-p
11-22        5           16.5             82.5
23-34        2           28.5             57
35-46        2           40.5             81

Σ(freq) = 9
Σ(fxm-p) = 220.5
      estimated mean of a freq. group is therefore:
25...

i don't remember doing this sort of statistics
at GCSE level, it has taken an NVQ qualification
to look at this...

mind you, my mathematics was a bit rusty...
but i'd rather spend a Saturday evening doing this
than... said above example...
dealing with people i don't want in my life...
who know perfectly well that they're not
compatible with it: too boot...

- **** me... it was such a joy learning about
compound interest too...
FV = P(1 + I)ᵀ

i.e. / e.g.

X invests £3,500, the interest is at 3.5% p.a.
for 6 years, the future value of investment
is therefore:

FV = 3500 (1 + 0.035)⁶
      = £4690.33

the interest?
   I = FV - P
   £4690.33 - £3500 = £1190.33...

i also forgot about the rules of BIDMAS...
brackets first, integers, i.e. 2⁶...
then the division / multiplication
(left to right)... then at the end... the addition /
subtraction...

e.g. 15 ÷ 3 + 3² + (10 + 6³) - (2³ - 2²)
  exactly... even i thought i knew...
it's so welcoming to refresh the simplest of maths,
esp. when you've been hiding in an ivory
tower of writing...
                       5 + 9 + 226 - 4 = 236...

as someone in my mid-30s... i can truly attest:
there's no point seeking wisdom among
one's elders... they're just tired old gits...
perhaps not all, perhaps some Socrates might arise
once more, but they're just like the rest of us,
if not worse...

they behave in the same incredulous ways
as might be expected of any other generation,
esp. the Millennials: yeah, thanks for down-beating "us":
here's this, for not giving us enough slack...
like these "elders" were the ones who fought
in either of the two great wars...
***** please... all they know are proxy wars
and "collateral damage"...
the next time i'll be looking up to an elder
gentleman, he better not mind me drinking a beer
& smoking a cigarette while sitting on
a bench with me... chances are...
he might disappear for a while & come back
with a vintage Rayleigh bicycle!
so we'll talk about Rayleigh bicycles...
bicycles in general... how his son works long hours,
how his grandson has trouble speaking...
thereby i'd comfort him: wait a while...
he'll come through with his speech...
the rest of them can follow suite with the rest
of the generations...

if i could have only posted a rebuttal...
one way traffic system of conversation?
mein gott: i would have never guessed!

such a splendid Saturday night:
no need to go clubbing, pick up low-self-esteem girls...
well... nothing usual there...
i sort of missed out on the whole hook-up
culture... i spent most of the time in a brothel...
once every half a decade:
when a cat irritated me by insinuating she
was ready to be: geared-up when she was
being groomed... i had to fight the whole
******* foundation... scratch a few bricks
with my fingertips before i finally lay my hands
on a naked body of a woman...
that it happens so rarely: i'm all the more thankful for it!
too much... is numbing...
too little, quiet the opposite... prolonging...
invirogating... ****... invigorating...

oh but the fun really began when working out
the schematics of a die (a pair of dice)...
i never knew that the opposite faces added up
to 7... 6 & 1, 3 & 4, 5 & 2...
optical mathematics... just like me riding a bicycle
minding traffic: unconscious spatial coordination,
but in this version: more concentrated...
                 3

1                            5
       2                             6

                  4

that's a cube, by the way... i have left out
the lines of enclosure...

or the following schematic, reg. 3D objects...
within the confines of algebra, standardised by X
to denote space & count...

plan, front, side... in this instance, variations of front?

       X                      X                    X
X X X               X X X             X    X
X X X X            X X X            X X X X

lego blocks... Danish bricks... something or other...

for my meagre efforts, for everything that doesn't
associate itself with the genius of algebra,
or conjuring up... a E = MC²...
after all... even if i did...
there would be an Oppenheimer with his
reflection from the Bhagavad Gita...

well **** me, at least it's a welcome break from
"solving" a sudoku...
eh... it's almost like looking for a median...
it's as "complicated" as linguine doesn't
represent spaghetti... savvy?

what a Saturday night! but i was rewarded,
for my meagre efforts...
storm Arwen brought... accents of snow...
oh those ballerinas, pirouetting...
how i missed them, not enough of them
for the sleeping corpus to even mention them,
not enough snow for snowmen,
for snowballs... not enough for any proof of snow:
you must have been awake from midnight of
the 27th of November through to the 3am of
28th of November to notice these ballerinas...

you must have also acknowledged:
the night sky is more beautiful since the return advent
of the moon, i don't blame him for ******* off
to the southern hemisphere: looking for winter months...
i welcome his return...
finally the night sky makes sense:
since his return...
all the future worlds of unexplored constellations...
the nights have become... eye-piercing gladness bound,
chained even!

finally the cold is here, what i'm most comfortable in,
to reflect the skin i imbue...
winter is the most alive season for me...
almost anyone can share
the taste for summer... esp. at the "riddle"
of the equator...
oh the northern splendours,
how i adore this cold... if i could i could spend each
night in the forest sieving through
the last, fallen, autumnal leaves...
for scouting for a height of scent invested it...
sweetness of decay, come winter...
freshened by the absence of insects...

also, recently... i've been talking to this girl...
i'm 35... she's 50...
rarely can i compliment a woman for...
finding new music i might like...
it happened once...
i was 21 she was 18... she introduced me to...
in extremo & Дельфин...
i tried introducing her to GONG...
& King Crimson...
                             well... "**** happens"...
but this girl, introduced me to...
HALOCRAFT... Greek instrumental band...
i never felt so... kissed by a warming of a tide...
i think i introduced her to something of my own...
she probably heard of the bands already,
girl for now, woman already...
beside that: a dream to be had...
i can't remember when a woman would influence my
listening diet... music used to be such a private affair...
how would i break away from listening to too much medieval
music...
i sort of suggested... your suggestion
is almost synonymous with hammock's: kenotic...
no, not boards of canada... or 65 days of static...
that's too post-rock...
or even:
godspeed you! black emperor: F# A# ∞...

i guess my "consolation" comes without regrets...
i can't look up to my elders,
i don't have any contemporaries...
the best bit of advice i ever learned
was from Alexander Dumas:
they best advice anyone can give anyone is...
to not give any advice to begin with...
i practice this rigorously...

i can't look up to older people like prior generations
might have...
lechery riddle old ****-wits...
time moves with me...
there's nothing to look up to!
two failed marriages... this that & the other...
i'm glad to have not failed in marriage...
it didn't take me two ******* takes
to realise my failures...
i learned it the first time prior to engaging
in a single one!

perhaps that's why the old sod blocked me...
he failed twice,
i am: highly unlikely to fail just once...
maybe he was afraid of... himself...
mostly people fear others... not because
they can see themselves in others...
rather: they are finally able to see
themselves: in themselves...

                  don't you think?
whatever you might be "thinking"...
i might thinking of "thinking"... to begin with,
this sorry-***-tale of 8 winds
& a sqaured number of sorrows...

            i can't remember the first time, the last time,
when a woman's recommendation of her music
taste appealed to me: appeased me...
such a rare event... it must be celebrated!

storm Arwen came, i can't cycle around my vicinity,
no matter... she brought with her
an accent of snow...
winter is here: the night sky is reclaimed by
both moon & constellations...

alles gut: reicht
dies alle gut: ist genug...      
    
       dies ende:
                               anschließend somit weit!
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2019
(in the background... rome's:
to die among strangers playing)...

get me off this merry-go-round -
please let me step off it,
i've had enough of this senseless repetition
of but one man's biography -
i've had enough of celebrating his
birth, i've had enough of celebrating
his resurrection and...
being bound to a people:
that do not know what to do about his death,
his death that has to see every hill
be renamed golgotha...

get me off this merry-go-round...
the days prior when everything seems to be
ablaze with neons and flickering dots
of a spiderweb without the architect -
and how these anglican efforts come,
and how they are released back
into a nullifying void...
i'm tired of catholics wishing each other well...
i'm tired of protestants wishing each other well:

be merry! women, wine and song!
perhaps... prior to a swan's dedication to
hacve risen into a amore-adore
and that descent into the shallow mourning
of the widow's laces in see-through-black...

and prior: this litany of grievances against
the family: mother against daughter...
daughter against mother...
sister against brother...
a father's non-existent pride that:
his son should have done more than he has...
and all these strains -
the children writing letters of presents
that later become pandora's boxes...
the adults writing mental letters to
death and its harem of executioners -

and all for this gluttonous feast...
mind you: i have to deal with three days
of this "celebration"...
that in Poland Christmas Eve is most
important...
most important in that: it's waiting
for a prosthetic miracle to include
the once organic hand... later to be nailed
to some driftwood of history...
after a while: today is earth...
tomorrow as yesterday is a tear...
the week to come will become a slight
amnesia of sweat and irritation...
a month will pass and the tear will
become a puddle of rain...
then a year will pass and a pond or
a lake will emerge...
then five years... ten... and a river will
break the barricades...
the mountain will be found to flow down
from... until all time becomes a meeting
with the sea - the eternal yawn when
facing a thought standing at its shore -
the content and contex of a body its bound
to...

christmas and all things depressing...
i welcome the quickened decline of day
and the seemingly eternal night...
what should brighten my resolve:
if it were not as simple... as to escape this
misplaced celebration...
the society is carved, the family is carved...
all we have done is squabble in the past year
and in the past years...
to suddenly work an evening of
cordiality for some "myth of a beginning"...

by christmas eve i will have placed
on a table 12 side-dishes - some will be prime
meals... like a salamon and some
beetroot broth with dumplings...
everything will be kosher catholic...
no meat of the earth...
and i will sit between two bodies
with me: the third party in this squalor
of an icon...
the biggest dread coming from the fact
that: i could simply look the part...

and when his death is not celebrated...
when a birth is damped with two-faces
and seasonal expectations...
when the birth is more important than
the death and the resurrection...
i always found christmas to be
an added nail to the coffin...
call it a year... call it whatever water deems
worth to be ascribe to such a passing...
always this pretend jovial acts...
this pressure to somehow not find
the coming of winter without any
mediocre non-clinical bouts of "depression"...

it's not like in Poland, during easter...
where you'd bring the eggs of castratos
to the church for blessing...
mythical catholicism of the East...
i haven't spent christmas in england
for the better part of 4 years...
but christmas is no different to the east
as it is to the west...
perhaps better television...
but... but... i can't stomach this...

give me the days after the new year...
multiply the days in between...
so i can return to my grey mist...
to burning the greek alphabet into my mind...
to subsequently burn the cyrillic alphabet
into it too...
let my days be filled with an ease
of writing this latin text...
but let me burn my mind with eyes
of coal - greek in my left eye: cyrillic in
my right... and the glagolitic crown
disguising itself alongside some runes...

let me write a picture...

o
cz
y
m y ś l e    (a corner stone)

o
č
y
m y ś l e

o
ч
ы
м ы сь л э (kamień węgielny)

          ę                    ę
    ę                ę
       ę                        ę  
кaмиэнь в(      )гиэлны

     no russian diacritical
  equivalent...

give me the days when
such things are important...
not this bedazzling of the jury -
the glorified birth...
the flight... herod's paranoia...
the subsequent filicide...
puppet king over-estimating his
worth...

perhaps then the marriage
of the hebrews with the greeks
to topple rome - this rome -
this hydra - this supposedly *******
of clay... being resurrected elsewhere
and everywhere -
the britons - who never sunk
into the fate of other people who
kept: ah b'eh and v and Q and...
kept the graphemes...
changed the eagle into a lion...
and the greek chimera into a unicorn...
and were never debased by
the imagery of rome...
but nonetheless didn't decend as
the german: with the umlaut and his
unique ßignature... or the next myth...
the next year...

it's almost the only joy left that compensates
this celebration:
not having anyone to buy presents for...
to compete over who's what gave that smile...
that frown...
and to give oneself the only present
worth giving - a chance to retain awe for
this otherwise sick-inducing repetition
that's 20x worse than how seasons
are predictable enough to be brought down
to the mundane wording of poetic odes!

i find no joy in this celebration -
only children will ever find it...
this is the time when family records are being
drafted... the summary of "family"
is being evaluated...
i find no joy because: i have no children...
and when all others have no children...
and even after a while when those
that will have grandchildren no longer
have their grandchildren...
and you return, somehow...
to a ***** of aged despair -
a mother, a father...
or... as someone alone...
what is it, that's being celebrated...
chance a conversation with me over
Easter... and i'll reply...
this truly is a worthy holiday...
there is so much joy in it...
but this christmas: this birth into a darkness?
yes - the greater analogy of life?
what is there to be celebrated?
the pettiness we dish each other
throughout the rest of the year?
we, "magically" forget?
that idiotic anagram: santa clause?
satan's clause?

if he be the son of god...
i'll be the god looking over him...
after all: the price of being...
an omni- litany... is to abandon one's
throne... for someone to sit in it,
or for it to remain empty...
even zeus didn't abandon his throne
for more than a flirt with an earthly woman...
the polytheistic gods knew:
how not to abandon power...
but to... fuse themselves with all
things mortal... and create the demigods...

i mean: if an omni- litany entity...
is going to incarnate itself? by the miraculous birth?
who's up on that throne?!
god abandoned heaven to save earth...
oh we can be it at this all day...
and we won't even feel shame
not having scientific facts and counters...
we will talk like children again...
who grew out of playing hide & seek...
and began thinking about philosophy...
having found themselves talking
about theology...
then... at least then...
talking about an existent / non-existent being...
whichever... we can exist...
it doesn't matter then...
whether ****** (ha-shem) IT exists or not...
we'll listen closely...
and find... two voices strapped to a room.

if belief was as simple as the plethora
of doubt... darting thoughts...
if belief was as simple as how it consolidates
itself in people who cherish ritual...
like the ritual of an alarm clock at 6am...
"merry christmas"
Andrew Jul 2018
Out from the warm-depths of an infinite sleep
Away from the cob-web dreams of the night
Me and her awake into a reality and bath in warm sunshine

Morning breaks the horizon and now it is moving
Across the undeniable intimidating blue sky
Moving in colorful waves but in silence
Peeling off the shrouds of sleep around our eyes
Bringing life to our bodies and to the world around
We glide and smile through the tropical vegetation
But no we are not alone there are others also gathering
Precisely estimating the strange reality of this morning

And look, there in the water
A bird that is
Swimming
We all feel the damp of its black feathers
We all feel the excitement of its peculiar existence
The anhinga breaks the water and smiles at us.

And look, there along the bank
An alligator basking
We are taking pictures and we are thinking deeply
With every bump of armor a million years of thought
The alligator opens his eye as we walk away.

And over there
Another bird is preying
It is white and grey and blue and red
It shifts its neck towards the water like an exclamation point
And no sooner breakfast is served for the great blue heron.

And further on
Something is breaking the
Water
A hundred or more creatures of the canal swimming
Shimmering bright black and brown on the surface
The Florida gar is slapping its tail in the air.

And on and on and on the creatures of the morning stir
In anxious anticipation of the fateful day
An infinite amount of possibilities hang and fall from the sky
They are falling among the cypress and saw grass, and into the water…
And into us
And into us, holding hand in hand
Me and her breathing in the tropic air, fresh and alive
Taking in all that is to be found, all the possibility and truth
We continue walking along to the end of the boardwalk;
We can go no further…
I smile at her through the orange rays of the morning sun
And kiss her musical lips.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2021
whereas there might be some "other" day...
any bilingual might complicate the mutter-zunge
of the natives: perhaps "just so"...
but here i am...
          drinking a little - if not leonard cohen,
then some bee-bop big diddly dylan....
or what's left crispy... with a blue valentine
akin to... whoever sang about...
ancient egyptian pyramids...
loosening to team up
with Chinese hieroglyphs...
that they retain and precursor
x-ray vision.... that they do that they are
a skelettanzen...

these fortnight once in a blue moon
bulldozer events...
  i, completely, mesmerised...
some gravity toward constellations...
the ugly punch of lacking verbiage...
i said clouds: no... i didn't say clouds...
i "said" cutting into a clarity of night
and the leftover gleaming pebble
of Mauritania...

       fastened like something done up
with... a goo of glue...
says i'm comfy...
but in the grand architecture of
cauliflowers a "sputnik" of eyes that see me,,
that will leave me riddled
akin to the names
like: very much furniture -esque:

     Adam Smith....
          Jean Paul... and a Sartre...
placebo solipsists... i imagine...

yes, these cauliflower floaters of sky,
being obstructed... some hue of blue
in a lineage of... Monet's Marseille...
  
clouds my hyped-up cauliflowers...
what's the difference between
Dublin and Edinburgh...
well... everything that's what's Paris
or... Loon'dough.... of... donned... piercing...
scissor fighting like
metaphor for *****... scissors... *****...
it wasn't exactly "fighting"...
just... a quest for establishing disparity...

cauliflowers in the sky...
extending masks into contortions of smile-lee...
pour some red wine over my wait for
a grave...

poverty stricken metaphors: like like...
time just yawns...
when incremental details of space are allowed
to do what space does....
metaphor like, like this, like that...


wouldn't i ever, wouldn't i ever be one for
one of those
philanthropic romances
of detailing life by every face i would ever
see when cycling toward st. paul's...
and how gravity contorts
these faces... tell-tale signs of physiognomy...
that physiognomy is not, truant...
perhaps i should polish up my
punctuation...
        on some faces a signature: life-is-elsewhere...
perhaps some syntise onym of Heidegger's
dasein...
                my own investment in
hiersein left me with structure to see
how subjectivity will be undermined
because: some clerical baron of...
no, not stoicism... of some leech purr
negativity starts making stark demands
against uniqueness etc.
of all that's true in that...
heavily invested in subjectivity...
i can't see a balance of placing an order
on everything "shience" **** me:
alles großartig!
             no... but i don't need a parasite
of an ego of the other... concretely
the other within the confines
of an oozing membrane of authority
akin to journalism...
to think that melancholy does not have
viral essential, components - res extensa
manoeuvering dittos and other wriggly bits
of out-of-focus "thinking"...
more like labouring with a hammer
in a... forest of nails!

   always this bilingual "curse": something
older than this acquired Ęglish...
          a history as known only via etymological
study...
   notably a "concern" for nouns...
in my native zunge (not that anyone should,
care)...

       1: and when i count...
                      raz, dwa... trzy...
otherwise...
when i don't count and the number reaches
a pronoun status...
jeden... dwa...
              no innovations in grammar...
no ******* revolution...
just one obstruction after another...
or akin to, the metaphor of an iron
egg-shell... i.e. when you crack it
open for a fwyed (a velsh) fried egg...
the yoke tease puncture and spills
and you're left with nothing doing
the runny runny runner: woe...

alert the superiority complex(ed)
unlike those with delusion of grandiosity...
not teasing solipsism, although:
it could be alternatively written as...

mit ein hammer im ein nägelwald...
          who needs a vector, coordinate / preposition
akin to of - relateabl... although...
could be compounded... to... nailforest...
although... in english, english being english...
no diacritical markers... it plain *** rhombus ugly
to put nailforest together...
forest of nails...
        not who's the pwetty face 'ere on in?

"jedynka":
otherwise what's "missing" in the english
zunge?
the dimunitive suffixation...
and all the plethora of gender inclusive
nouns...
wholly complicated stuff...

dwójka, trójka... czwórka...
     piątka:
                   pięść....
    pięć... five-set...
                      six-set... fo-ur!
it's not like there's
a... a...                           (щь)
      dość...                 enough!
otherwise, yes...
  sh-ch...
                       szczerość - truthfulness...
in lingua franca...
an angry english skin-'ed
might shout a remark as
i... bicycle cycle wound and wound
looking for a trill in the R
in something / -where as remote
as Rales...

teasing katakana: no...
syllables weren't enough...
"they" went beseeching architecture... etc.
i came back with some punctures (lettering)...
my stomach shrunk...
my ego fizzled out...
my thought became my oughts

while the equation... if it can be called an equation
(at best)
is more of a question...

'how', or rather, 'why', is it...
that... ц
cz't...
           no...

    how does it go again?
hard sign soft sign etc.
i can tell you "how" i.e.:
             х

i am disgruntled by the sound encoding...
i guess i lean toward too many
tongues and ask for esque Barmitzvah...

bad internet connection:
somehow satellites are
governed by... earthen-work
of worms...
          
   ж(ъ) - *******' worth of a riddle...
here's to from havering-atte-bower
toward, lady in waiting...
my neu fwend... chalky why-ite-ite...
i.e. ж(ъ) should not exist...
unless... gli-mm-er...
is aesthetically proof of condescending
non-essential Lithuanian sprechs / spresch...
tighten the reigns on a hu-SH...
and don half a crown of a crown...
you'll get the acute

   it's already included...
   unless...
                   зъ = ж
         hard, signature...
more, sounds than a peacock's digress...
since                 зь does = ź
to hide diacritical markers
by way of creating "new" letters....
hardly letters more: digressing
graphemes... shortcuts...
apostrophes... supposed surds...
cult of compound hyphenation
in...

   noun contra noun contra:
etymology as: me toy... truancy...
and here: hey presto...
some snippet of history...

3 days said; shared spared "******"....
what's my...racial slirring
at the bottom of the vex / wax mobile...
impromptu: forward thinking...
a H without an F....

   racial slurr...
chalky white... someone i used to...
the demonic king of *****....
toying for tongue over
the already broken egg shells...
next time we meet...
sure as **** there will be, meat...

cucked...gloryhole... "avant garde"...
           as if i were the father...
as if fathering implied ownership...
let the ****** nad tha trapazees get
away with: oh much more than...
this...

concerning the coercive structure
of peer... pressures...
peer pressure...
without any fundamental...
yes the walking abortions...
    unbelievable "pun-and-play-truant"
   punctuation marks....

mea... culpa...
mea culpa... tu-ah...
                    this tired bone
of the same new bite of youth...
          nothing cleaving... toward...
moon heading toward closures...
of... reversing mirrors...
        
i'd sooner turn to ****-******
literature than
study: ****-wit...
Belgravia manual...
******* load of expectation...

      no, clearly i'm Copenghagen "safe":
children are nice...
at leasgg when not
having to invest in them...
from some darwinistic predominant...
squat.... sire...
most cleaving to the crown...

horrible tides of ashen...
the tails of non-existent streets of Holborn...
b'wing heave  nuanced h'american....
boyish... boy-told...
same round of *******...

i say crease a ****** for a, paul-lack....
i hear you say...
i own \ tiresome...
i say crease a ****** to crisp up
a ******... i say... mine ******* bounty
that's hardly passing Irish... you...
******* mummified thumb and
a... m.o.p.e.

          most offended people ever?
i guess i must be tired of lying down,
being pressed down,
estimating that... squat?!
is best what red hot chilli peppers were
circa 1999... and a garage an uncle
and a porsche... was... what Ilford was...

here's my handicap score... scrooge...
what, the, ****?
here's looking up for "better"...
seeing how the natives perform a better: less
than the ingested scrutiny of:
welcome...
here's me living in Kenya...
here's me... past for past's worth
currency: displaced...
hier ist mich!

           X X - like the Spaniards version
of ****... jack... jilly... i.e. Ha... Ha...
imagine how bleak, paradoxically auburn
and albino i must have appeared to appear
WWI shell-shocked... entrenched....
in some aum-of-mud...

these... walking abortions of a kindred of
mine... men... somehow...
laxing in contemplating devoid(s)...

        here's a letter or two, towing,
tied:
make a gimmick... pillow fighting...
moth-mouth (mottemund)...
elder english i.e. german -
some byway of etymological:
von ost...

           kommen sie (der) sonnenaufgang...
cauliflowers in the sky...
eyes that... ripple...
clued in death summarise....

i might ask...
  i probably will wilt sooner...
here's a spoon
and here is:

         зъ = ж (ż)
soft-sign... acute...
      źrenica (pupil)...
it's female... it's tow-tied...
it's leash prone... too...

             зь = ź

wouldn't i ever, wouldn't i ever be one for
one of those
philanthropic romances
of detailing life by every face i would ever
see when cycling toward st. paul's...
and how gravity contorts
these faces... tell-tale signs of physiognomy...
that physiognomy is not, truant...
perhaps i should polish up my
punctuation...
        on some faces a signature: life-is-elsewhere...
perhaps some synonym of Heidegger's
dasein...
                my own investment in
hiersein left me with structure to see
how subjectivity will be undermined
because: some clerical baron of...
no, not stoicism... of some leech purr
negativity starts making stark demands
against uniqueness etc.
of all that's true in that...
heavily invested in subjectivity...
i can't see a balance of placing an order
on everything "shience" **** me:
alles großartig!
             no... but i don't need a parasite
of an ego of the other... concretely
the other within the confines
of an oozing membrane of authority
akin to journalism...
to think that melancholy does not have
viral essential, components - res extensa
manoeuvering dittos and other wriggly bits
of out-of-focus "thinking"...
more like labouring with a hammer
in a... forest of nails!

   always this bilingual "curse": something
older than this acquired Ęglish...
          a history as known only via etymological
study...
   notably a "concern" for nouns...
in my native zunge (not that anyone should,
care)...

       1: and when i count...
                      raz, dwa... trzy...
otherwise...
when i don't count and the number reaches
a pronoun status...
jeden... dwa...
              no innovations in grammar...
no ******* revolution...
just one obstruction after another...
or akin to, the metaphor of an iron
egg-shell... i.e. when you crack it
open for a fwyed (a velsh) fried egg...
the yoke tease puncture and spills
and you're left with nothing doing
the runny runny runner: woe...

alert the superiority complex(ed)
unlike those with delusion of grandiosity...
not teasing solipsism, although:
it could be alternatively written as...

mit ein hammer im ein nägelwald...
          who needs a vector, coordinate / preposition
akin to of - relateabl... although...
could be compounded... to... nailforest...
although... in english, english being english...
no diacritical markers... it plain *** rhombus ugly
to put nailforest together...
forest of nails...
        not who's the pwetty face 'ere on in?

"jedynka":
otherwise what's "missing" in the english
zunge?
the dimunitive suffixation...
and all the plethora of gender inclusive
nouns...
wholly complicated stuff...

dwójka, trójka... czwórka...
     piątka:
                   pięść....
    pięć... five-set...
                      six-set... fo-ur!
it's not like there's
a... a...                           (щь)
      dość...                 enough!
otherwise, yes...
  sh-ch...
                       szczerość - truthfulness...
in lingua franca...
an angry english skin-'ed
might shout a remark as
i... bicycle cycle wound and wound
looking for a trill in the R
in something / -where as remote
as Rales...

teasing katakana: no...
syllables weren't enough...
"they" went beseeching architecture... etc.
i came back with some punctures (lettering)...
my stomach shrunk...
my ego fizzled out...
my thought became my oughts

while the equation... if it can be called an equation
(at best)
is more of a question...

'how', or rather, 'why', is it...
that... ц
cz't...
           no...

    how does it go again?
hard sign soft sign etc.
i can tell you "how" i.e.:
             х

i am disgruntled by the sound encoding...
i guess i lean toward too many
tongues and ask for esque Barmitzvah...

bad internet connection:
somehow satellites are
governed by... earthen-work
of worms...
          
   ж(ъ) - *******' worth of a riddle...
here's to from havering-atte-bower
toward, lady in waiting...
my neu fwend... chalky why-ite-ite...
i.e. ж(ъ) should not exist...
unless... gli-mm-er...
is aesthetically proof of condescending
non-essential Lithuanian sprechs / spresch...
tighten the reigns on a hu-SH...
and don half a crown of a crown...
you'll get the acute

   it's already included...
   unless...
                   зъ = ж
         hard, signature...
more, sounds than a peacock's digress...
since                 зь does = ź
to hide diacritical markers
by way of creating "new" letters....
hardly letters more: digressing
graphemes... shortcuts...
apostrophes... supposed surds...
cult of compound hyphenation
in...

   noun contra noun contra:
etymology as: me toy... truancy...
and here: hey presto...
some snippet of history...

3 days said; shared spared "******"....
what's my...racial slirring
at the bottom of the vex / wax mobile...
impromptu: forward thinking...
a H without an F....

   racial slurr...
chalky white... someone i used to...
the demonic king of *****....
toying for tongue over
the already broken egg shells...
next time we meet...
sure as **** there will be, meat...

cucked...gloryhole... "avant garde"...
           as if i were the father...
as if fathering implied ownership...
let the ****** nad tha trapazees get
away with: oh much more than...
this...

concerning the coercive structure
of peer... pressures...
peer pressure...
without any fundamental...
yes the walking abortions...
    unbelievable "pun-and-play-truant"
   punctuation marks....

mea... culpa...
mea culpa... tu-ah...
                    this tired bone
of the same new bite of youth...
          nothing cleaving... toward...
moon heading toward closures...
of... reversing mirrors...
        
i'd sooner turn to ****-******
literature than
study: ****-wit...
Belgravia manual...
******* load of expectation...

      no, clearly i'm Copenghagen "safe":
children are nice...
at leasgg when not
having to invest in them...
from some darwinistic predominant...
squat.... sire...
most cleaving to the crown...

horrible tides of ashen...
the tails of non-existent streets of Holborn...
b'wing heave  nuanced h'american....
boyish... boy-told...
same round of *******...

i say crease a ****** for a, paul-lack....
i hear you say...
i own \ tiresome...
i say crease a ****** to crisp up
a ******... i say... mine fuckibng bounty
that's hardly passing Irish... you...
******* mummified thumb and
a... m.o.p.e.

leftover wonders:
   dream of the Faroe Islands...
my cat-**** snippet of a "reconquista"
and some, boring h'arab of barking & kin...
did his pakistani trick-easy...
a malcolm x mythological blonde
summary...
the spider suckles the fly...
life gravitates toward a
membrane of juggling **** and a...
pyramidic persitance of: give a ****...
less that i do...

while the red wine flows... and flows....
crab bucket destructor...

such are the joys of white liberal...
****...
magic carpet... what not...
here's a walking abortion...
here's monkey lingo-linguo
                  Otto the next Urban... once
Islam was to be agitated...
forever: *******!

my... unwinding under the scrutiny of
reading into... spine.
POETRY IS POETRY

Poetry is poetry but what it should be
Poetry is poetry as that of the eagle
It as well keeps it's nose to the ground
Misses nothing at all like that of a beagle

Always sincerely honest with as open mind
A closed mind sees and learns nothing at all
Taking others advice with just a pinch of salt
As eagles see above and below height and fall

Minds their own business speaks wisdom too
A poet born a leader not a follower fact of life
Knows many a true word is spoken in just jest
Never under or over estimating or judging strife

True to thine own self start or ending of day
Sees way more than many imagine dare I say
Has no  time for foold but too likes to play
A real poet belongs to themselves come what may

terrence michaelsutton
copyright 2018
POETRY IS POETRY

Poetry is poetry but what it should be
Poetry is poetry as that of the eagle
It as well keeps it's nose to the ground
Misses nothing at all like that of a beagle

Always sincerely honest with as open mind
A closed mind sees and learns nothing at all
Taking others advice with just a pinch of salt
As eagles see above and below height and fall

Minds their own business speaks wisdom too
A poet born a leader not a follower fact of life
Knows many a true word is spoken in just jest
Never under or over estimating or judging strife

True to thine own self start or ending of day
Sees way more than many imagine dare I say
Has no  time for foold but too likes to play
A real poet belongs to themselves come what may

terrence michaelsutton
copyright 2018

— The End —