Is there a natural virility to the fertilities of the inductions of space time’s continuums?  Is this a microcosmic phenomenon or more dependent on the depths of pervasion of its macrocosmic relativities.  Perhaps there is a unifying field theory we are not yet aware of which explains how it paradoxically is a little bit of both.  Regardless, given the fact that there probably was no beginning to the universe then quite literally an eternity has already passed.  So why then, given our understanding of the physics of physical interaction, is not all in a state of complete entropy?  
     This afore mentioned fecundity must exist.  Further in it’s quite likely the cause of physical existence as we know it.  I have a theory: This creationism occurs at such an imperceptible rate that positive eons of quadrillions of ages must pass in order for the cosmos to replenish its stockpile of physical matter (possibly matter without atomic structure as we know it) so that a new cycle of infinite big bangs in infinite space can occur.  Ushering in a new 500 billion to trillion year cycle of physical existence as we know it.  Further again, perhaps the implosion’s contraction’s revisions are the cause of the atomic structure of matter we experience during this new physical cycle.
      The thought of such quantum leaps to me for the intensities of physical matters existence and catalytic capabilities.  
     Granted your not going to find these speculations touted as fact in a Wikipedia excerpt.  The answers are in fact unknown.  I’m merely being hypothetically thoughtful with what I’ve learned of possibilities prospectus.   Given these truths allow me to hypothesize further.  
     It seems to me that the evolution of the organic morphologies of biological ontogeny were created by a conceptually reflective derivative (or perhaps antiderivative on the interpolations of integration) of functional physical mechanics.  That perhaps the creative force behind their inception (similar to the afore mentioned natural inductions of space time’s continuums) was the physical realism of and or the residual harmonic vibrations of kinetic supremacy.  
     Consider, the planet we’re on is revolving at approximately 60,000 miles per hour relative to the sun, the solar system we inhabit is revolving at approximately 500,000 miles per hour around the center of our galaxy.  Our galaxy is traveling at approximately 1,332,000 miles per hour through space with our local group of galaxies and revolving at approximately 216,000 miles per hour around the center of mass of this group of galaxies.  All this to give you some conception of the kinetic actualities of our planet’s trajectory’s extant as a projectile.  We have an almost incredible amount of potential or kinetic energy that is generated by our physical velocity through space.  Although we don’t seem to be aware of the impending preponderances of this realism as tellurian denizens it is nonetheless fact to our intellectual relativities.  
     Once again perhaps the actuality of and or the residual harmonic vibrations of the actuality of this phenomenon are the impetus behind the evolution of the organic morphologies of biological ontogeny.  We don’t know for certain how the first amino acids were formed.  Much less how these acids in the primordial soup made the quantum leap to living existence as biological organisms.  Once again I hypothesize it was a conceptually reflective derivative (or antiderivative) of the creationism behind functional physical mechanics.  e.g. the natural inductions of space time continuum and the quantum leaps created by the implosion’s contraction’s revisions of our big bang.
     By now you may be wondering why I have extrapolated these hypothetical scenarios about the physical creationism of our universe and the perceived similarly analogous state of organic and biological origins, so I’ll tell you.  I hoped it might make the dissertation I’m about to make on the fecundities of the corporeally preternatural and perhaps metaphysical inclinations of our sentient race easier to comprehend.
     With the advent of biological organisms the diversity of physical existence has apparently exceeded its physical complexity.  Understanding has evolved.  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integral forms.  Being a firm believer in evolution this phenomenon makes me wonder: Is the impetus behind the genetic anomalies that influence the seemingly positive nature of natural selection’s progression a pervasion from the social contiguities of a species? Perhaps a random occurrence with no discernable precedent?  Or, more likely even, the equivocal nature of the superior essence of the ontological state of the beings involved?
     Though many believe that it is truly a random occurrence I have a tendency to want to believe otherwise.  That just as there is a natural fecundity to the induction of space time’s continuum there is a positively oriented inclination integral to evolutional progression.  A sort of élan vital on the orthogenesis overtures.  Granted it is somewhat dependant on the phenological nature of environment but improvements occur which have little to do with the ability to cope with the weather.    
      So is there such a thing as élan vital as it relates to ethology’s entelechy?  Is there any benefit for humanoid demagoguery in pursuing zoomorphic zoolotry as a social contiguity?  Can we actually make accession to transcendentally existential ascension?
     The obvious answer would appear to be yes, at least in partiality.  Maybe we’re incapable (at present) of assimilating incorporeity ideology’s non-corporeal states and existing as godlike disembodied spirits (who perhaps have not lost their proclivity for corporeally preternatural being) but social relativities are an evolving state.  Truly the better we treat each other the better off all will be.  Now I’m not talking about being a bunch of fawning sycophants or schmaltzy schlep-it-ness schmucks, more like the swanky saunter obsequious diligence could indentured servant sail lend to all.  Not given because it’s mandated but because it’s the essence of social contiguity’s evolution.  Granted the individual must remain sacrosanct.  Our metaphysical prowess is at best hypothetical.  Actual magic is not a tool in our kit-bag though I aspire to such everyday as I attempt to be teleportation real with my telepathy to the demons I appear to be confronted with.  I site clairaudience clairvoyance on the vicinity victuals of vigilante villain, the propinquity habitations of harbinger’s harangued, the proximity parameters of perimeter’s peripherals, why I’ll even throw in the objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iotas of self inductive interstitial extrapolation, and if that doesn't get it I'll talk about the embark embargo extraditions and the extraversion embezzling euthanasia extortions.  The thought of such spatiotemporal telemetry tactician.  Protractive analyses of dimensional delineation on the terrestrial equestrian.  Tellurian terrene!!
     The obvious realisms of all of this are that we are indeed capable of making these quantum leaps armed practical magic.  I say lets fecundity get down to it.  Exserted protuberances of erotica erectile errantry, the vibrant volition of verve.  I’ve had enough of vapid flatulence and insidiously sinister archaic.  Mankind’s inability to supersede his developing anachronism may well be the cause of his demise!!!  We’ll become theosophy’s theophany incarnate, the ecstatic euphorias of corporeally preternatural’s enigma entity on the identity crisis!!!!

Oblivious is the man who claims decorum of extrapolated omnipotence.
The man who has ossified rationalism into an inexplorable ruse.
An attempt to transmogrify inchoate minds, characteristic of apparitions.
Providing illusion as the answer to an obsequious concrescence of naive followers.
Oblivious are the men who follow this decorum.
Their leader keens to their needs.

From the depression of the distances with respect to the horizontal and the planes that separated them from the surface, below the references that came against, single sediment had been destined towards the high eminence, before the fossal of megatons of aldehyde below the bilges of the final base, where the seventh rings of the goat ibex were perforated, all in the antipode of the Constellation of Capricornus; where the goats were enraptured in the binary of Wonthelimar, behind the floods of absorption that took the Diadocos far from where they should never have left, in order to extrasolar wishes and never to come. From the node of the supreme and poked aldehyde of the horn of Amalthea, with the bizarre analogy of Zeus and Wonthelimar, both mammals with milk from goat's udders, one from goat from Mount Ida and the other from Aldaine in the Alps, with milk from ibex and In the face of Amalthea that appeared in the fossal, all the Seleucid generals had already vanished, starting from the Viper Typhon, who in the retracting sub-mythology of Capricornus was transmigrated to Wonthelimar, swollen with the aldehyde transmuted into this alcohol and into the udder milk of the Ibix that He lactored, while they were all carried away as in the chambers of Auschwitz, in distant lanterns and lamps of the Calypso that he dismissed them, leaving them with the escorts of the ibex or goatfish in laudable stratagems, which vanished them away from their desires from a new polis or Nostos Patrída, sprinkling them with goatskin and flourishing essences of the kashmar of Zeus' nurse; Amaltheum or Amalthea.

The Iberian rings from the medrones in advance reached the two final ring nodes, here Wonthelimar intimidated them with an accurate adjacent bleat of the kashmar that rubbed their back, before the newest and last lux of Amalthea that vanished into herbaceous fruits that always He carried the barefoot medron with him, to start with the antlers dumbbells and re-transport them defeated to the species of snake that frightened the pastoral god Pan who shepherded, and then he submerged in the water after becoming Capricornus Ibex Fish. Being aware of this and of those who refused to continue listening, Ibics rings were unleashed until the seventh medron, feeding back with Wonthelimar who ad libitum created Venus in triads of Zeus. Wonthelimar and Amalthea were remote in the eighth and ninth medron of the antlers, they appropriated to each the portion of the Parasha or Parashot of the Torah, and of the thirteenth Shemot so that their dualities and fumes from the unbreathable fossa would remain under the possessed surface of the pendular property balance and positive-negative gender correspondence. Right here Amalthea transmuted her mercy to save the world with her lactation of syrup and honey that was not in short supply, and that was extrapolated into a future abundance of food and nectar, making up for crusts that were uneven in average terms. From this bezel, both beings of the goat genome contributed to the pole of goodness for each one at the end of the benevolent cuirassiers of prospering, and not from the opposite that would lead them, even though they were dissimilar causes, towards a retrograde event that was not a consequence of the becoming of the plagues, and of the malignancy that does not flourish with the Shemot of the Parasha, to agree and lavish themselves on blessed virtues or deliberate wicked ones.

The meaning of a relative synchronic and factotum coexisting does not redeem the disintegration of an existential relativism in Skalá, the Hexagonal Primogeniture from one of its angular visions, metaphysically transfers from its temporary contingencies after its arrival on Patmos, while the temporary Seleucid temporality vanishes, It was affirmed from a contradiction since its truth was distended in the arena of Skalá not implying being welcomed, rather it was victimized by the absurd political dimorphism in a meta spiritual state, abdicating its dispersed retrospective, and now contemplating a compromise of the Hellenic genre, to gradually rebuke the virtues of their banners, twice as good for the purpose of reinforcing the will to accede, and not perish in the attempt to lead Alexander the Great. The criticism of founding the memories are of a revived past where it was not, marking the anthropological fact and false truth judgment, in meaning and contradiction in the polarity of both axiomatic genres, but that is saved when quantifying in who has to defend himself, if seeks to abrogate itself, in the entity that is characterized by induction and attraction of egonies and not of exo-egonies, thus describing it in the theme of "Do not support egos that recriminate other characters of frustration and empowerment of a Vernarthian logic split into Vern-narth. Vern has etymology of Bern or Bern olive tree of Gethsemane and narth of the ordinal scale that speculates its nickname in millions of northern sections of its origin, which subsumes the truth and the criterion of apocalyptic parapsychology, re-life of quantum historicity of the metaphysical and sub-block. -Mythological of Vernarth in his identical.

Everything seemed a strange self-annulment from a clear and understandable limit, but Wonthelimar rose to the surface of the Állos kósmos, finding himself in atmospheres of truth and reality of a Cantabile, who decided about the horse Kanti coming with him towing him from the Erebo de Chauvet Bilocated. As a musical and festive ending, he received them on the upper plate of the happened gestures, where a cabaletta rendered parts of a Cantabrian aria, in sulfurous and remorseful cavatina married with the cross emotions of a finale who sponsored expressions and festive Templar tales, with the descendants of Zeus or minor children, or grandchildren after this had to give him milk and honey but with báchkoi. Among the couplets that received him, some came about the smoke of terror that was confused with the dustbin of a Cavallo or horse acclaimed Kanti, with gasping bustling from a cardex, containing all the repertoires of a cantabile if this scene were to be repeated in The same epic allusion, and in random consequences, that go after a cavalcade that is not abstracted in real characters, but more in conformity with the well-deserved place of epic imaginative beings or in the operatic psychotropic of a duet, which would go flagellating in individuality and in each which is not content from another section of the Cantabrian.

The Universality of emotion and feeling is a tragic Parodo emulating voices of all those who sing from a cantabile galloping in their voices to the beat of the heart in some, and at the same time chanting stanzas and antistrophe in reverse epic and tragic lines, for the purposes of the coliseum that diametrically obstructs the Hellenic choir, which is attached to the intervention of the Hexagonal Primogeniture that was already beginning to rise in height, and in the prayers of Saint John, the Apostle and Prochorus from the captaincy and the ode that would begin to stanza, from the west to this and the antistrophe would follow with Vernarth, Wonthelimar and Alexander the Great from east to west. Ad libitum of their enjoyments, they were eating Greek snacks or Katogorias on the way in bases of Almonds, cinnamon, olive oil, sugar, and sweet wine that they carried on their backs in Rhytas shaped like the horns of Zeus and the Ibix of Wonthelimar, which the same Procorus carried on his golden back. The meaning is affirmed as a meaningless infringement of laws of temporality, and truthfulness at the expense of short evidence, and of facts that vanish in the light haze of causalism and not of effectism, when the adjective or noun is made of a strong verb in the Metabasis and in the imprecations that Vernarth gave.

Vernarth's metabasis: “the verse and the adjective will be subsidized by the noun in the construction of Állos Kosmo Megarón, from where mathematics will immaterially explain sap suckers under the noun in liquid milk of the color white and of the high nutritional value in female lactated, and of mammals to feed their goats or ibex. The soul of this prerogative implies that the verb will be to promote species rather than a nutritious milky elixir for Zeus, and the candor of his **** will tend to the bipedal or quadruped subject self-procreating from a Milky Specie. (Milky species).  Being ****** into milk by self-procreating snitches. Vernarth says (give me some milk, and I will be the son of Zeus, perhaps as a means in everything and not a whole of which I never thought...!)

Amalthea in rituals and relics from prospects of demigods was purposely cordoning them off in Mycenaean deities, from a contemporary Westerner comforting them near a hippocampus; with signs of ibex Capricornus, rapt at the nymph that spoke from Mount Ida in Crete and that she made congruent with the constellation of Capricornus, more precisely in the Cornucopia making this heraldry of Wonthelimar with Fortune, Abundance, Occasion, Liberality, Prudence and Joy. In a woman sitting on a throne, a young nymph with a flower crown, a naked woman with one foot on a wheel and the other unstable, a woman with sunken eyes and an aquiline nose dressed in white, two faces from the past and future, a woman happy with the exuberance of the Cornucopia with children and a palm leaf. Being the abundance that in serial Amalthea bordered all the ladies in different esoteric and Mycenaean prosperity, constantly shining with radiations on the present in the Unicorn Ibix, which Zeus left after breaking its antlers, unleashing kindness and plethora in fruit buds, and vegetables that were appropriated in the Fortune of Wonthelimar reissuing what in their domains they can do, and now in Patmos with its Cornupia being transferred from that liquefied shaft honey and milk cultivated with attributes of herbs contributing to the leisure, peace, and relaxation of the cosmic world that ascended in Wonthelimar as Ibix in advance of Capricornus, from where the Auriga always broke into his expeditions with a trajectory towards the eighth cemetery of Messolonghi, where he brought it from the Capella Star for the femurs of the Diplodocuses who seconded Drestnia to watch over the hydraulic pits of the Koumeterium from Messolonghi, before traveling to Tangier.

The entire herd went back to an ancient promontory that was halfway up the mound towards the black styes or abscesses, in the central intuition of the fossa that began to dissipate towards their backs. Amalthea extends into the Állos Kósmos, which came in zoomorphic receptacles collecting the announced blood of the animals that flowed in black planks from the vortex of the fossal, towards the liminal or transitory sleeper of the fossal that oozed acetosities of the Aldehyde to be transmigrated after the bilocation of the Chauvet cavern. All wore willow halos on the crowns or diadems of their caps, including the proliferation of phantasmagoric Allies that went in rows from 780 to 680 BC. C., with fortunes of the Cornucopia that arched in magical arches due to the dissociative changes of the universe, as well as the circumstantial creed of some omnipotence that will cause emotional transgenerational transgression, in the rain vessels that they made fall from the Ombrio de Zeus, in a daily latticework closing the spaces, and only leaving for some intruders and onlookers to see his flashing Astrepé. Right here the diádoc fossal vanished, when it rose above the horizontal that poured into the Chronic Vernagrams of parapsychological personalities of ingenuity classicism and in Astro-concomitance, which would rethink everything that is past and future from a Vernagram, which is more than a compression of a mere future of the quantum spaces and the sacred medrones of the Ibixes with their direct relationship with Capricornus. Diverse capital moments were treasured in the breeze of the Vas Auric that was traced from the opposing moraine that fell in lapse-time, through the labyrinth in storms and thunderings that became planetary with the Lynothorax cuirass that Alexander the Great accommodated in the festoon border of his Aspis Koilé, kicking copiously as a sign of shaking the head of the gods who deceived him to be alive, and who was now reborn in the faith of Saint John the Apostle, favorite of the Mashiach and where he will have to wipe his face with the shroud of Veronica Before entering the Állos Kósmos Megaron that everyone built, in favor of a Panagia or Temple, unlocking the majolica that seeped out from the rest of the transmigration, and his own in the configuration of a corpse with a tricolor gesture.

The presumptive eradicated the side of the forearm rots that was being restored in Wonthelimar's laps, which helped him get up and catch his breath while the Katogorias snack filled his mouth with nectar and almonds with Macedonian Psiloi combat tactics with serum and flames of Alcohol dripped from her nostrils and sinuses in the sweet wine, which in pompous dilemma defied the judges of her life in the choir of the Bilocated Epidary Theater on Patmos, and in the ***** dry Kashmar of the orchard with the pale faces of the grotesque, that rested in the memory or Mnmosyne and in the fauna of the Thracian and Thessalian helmets.

Alexander the Great says: “here I agonized and now in the fresh waters of the springs of the Lerna, I will also marry the glorious mystay and bákchoi, in the memories of Vernarth seeing him besieged by Achaemenides in the stooped position of Dario III, to come purifying and sustaining of my limbs, learning to walk and speak in Neolithic techniques, which extruded me from the Lerna by barriers of the moon that shone from the bronze of my Leonatus helmet. Thus I could see that Vernarth, fought alone against thousands throwing fire through his mouth and his eyes, separating the waters of the Falangists, who plowed like ships deforesting the Persians, and leaving them in their mud, imposing glorious Hypaspists who unbolted from their back some arrows with heads of snakes and Hydras.

Vernarth watched as everyone climbed the Profitis Ilias mound, two hundred and sixty-nine meters above sea level, where the monastery of San Juan is located; here he was suspended in his solitude after everything that happened at the end of the moat that definitely I would return without the Diádocos, with a hint and its functionalities. From here Helios became genealogical, who snatched him from the kingdom of dead flowers, which were to be assumed from the Olympian where he will join him to the essential of Aïdoneus; immaterializing in the darkness of dizzies and the flowers that died in the genealogy of a new species. The scenic swept its cognitive and ferns with more than three hundred frank species that frowned like the enemy of an evil friend, with seedlings that expectorated from the resonance of the bushes that invited to thrive in the salty ripples that made a dreamer fall asleep on top of the kerchiefs or brambles that memorialized Gethsemane, burning his face and hands with psalms, telling him about his Baba. For when it is a luminary by night and by day, they will compare it with the white grayish drupes and mops, like those of the Bern orchard of Olives, in aqueous and resinous colloidal, which was crowned in harmony and syntropia in Vernarth activating intellectual conscious plantations, which will restructure its balance of ultra Hoplite, in metabolism of the Lentiscus flowers, with great brotherhood in the Olives that each time exercised the gift of bending their oleaginous self-species, towards planes of the Cornicabra olives, with large branches and high tree altitude that fruit within of the Cornucopia that he now carried on his back, supported by an oiko spin, juxtaposed with the fibula on the right shoulder of his lymphoma, which with large branches and high tree altitude fruit within the Cornucopia that he now carried on his back, supported by an oiko line juxtaposed with the fibula on the right shoulder of his lymphoma, and with polyphenols in scale geothermal energy that still leveled the Ponto Sea towards the tectonic plate to give it the flavor that was owed from remote prehistoric times.

Patmos was aborted from an immanent consent and new force of the impending enemy in Pythagorean perorations and an offending thought. From this prerogative is born the generalized punishment of sub-mythological ethics in favor of legacies of allusions to reorder or defragment the enslaving and demolished bio culture, which would begin from the establishment of the Vas Auric found in Limassol, which took possession from Rhodes with clean scenes from Tsambika monastery. The epic ran like icy cold down the shoulders of all those who sweated for the generation of cops, and in domestic evasions in superior lordships to Hades or Wonthelimar itself, both sons of flocks and goats that nourished them by providing them with a mountain perspective, as a magnetic pole towards gothic energy that ruled more in the Magnetic North Pole, and the geographic oversize that reviled latitudes in riches that would dismiss Borker and Zefian, as masters distributors of the ethics of the Áullos Kósmos of Patmos, redeploying thousands of dead from pre-Hellenic times, so that they recirculate through the roots of the Kashmar, re-sulfurizing cinnabar saps as the germ of the subterranean Acheron, which consecrates the living and the dead in the eternity of the infinite Duoverse Universe. The order will lie in semi-shadows that even in the dark provide the pleasant warmth of camphor, with advanced Horcondising formulas, which will appeal to hungry souls by suppressing gifted energies, and by inseminating them with ovules without originally conceived organisms.

From Hylates, Cyprus; Zefian came by order of Vernarth, assisted with the extension of the earthly laborers of the Attic Calendar on the twenty-first of September, from the device of Apollo at the site of Boeotia, and especially of the Boedromion. The arrows that Zefian brought had an instant Boedromion crossing the lines from spring to winter, with seven arrows that Zefian threw into the sky and never fell, but if portentously received in the virginity of animals. The flora with seven golden arrows of the Chauvet de Wonthelmar cavern, condoned the exhaustive end of the fossal where they still remained, in a gesture of tenderness and relative Mycenaean genealogy, from Crete the contravention of Apollo and Artemis towards an olive tree was approaching, originating in the Zefian's arrows, to mark the new cardinal points, begin with the first two arrows that they put on the string of the bow, each one flying north and south trajectories and the other two that were once again attacked with the east bow, to shoot the arrows of east-west with southern magnetism limits. Zefian's imagination was of proportions that were not limited without wandering from their phalanxes when they pulled the string, like joys of a ghostly existence that pushed him in each bolt, presuming that where they fell would be the beginning of the storms that would originate the Állos Kósmos Megarón, for belated courts imposed from a cosmos, which he led by insisting on his will and from a doubtful Vestal god advocating the association of the hospitable Canephores, such as Vestal Virgins of Roman bilocation, and quantum parapsychological of the feared inter-tale alive that rebels in the arrows that they had not yet fallen and did not know their whereabouts. As plates or serial hosts, they were evoked from where the origin of the Universe was broken, to open towards the organic, vigorous, and anti-burn contravened Duoverse to the divine celestial origin as a parameter of *****-ovule, rather in aeonic instances in the fireplace of Hestia, running in eternities towards vast volumes of light-years, where eternity has no measure, let alone the existence that begins and ends born from a homozygous arising without a Universe, to hatch from the branch of the Heterozygous Duoverse, bringing different unions of eternal cells by universal divine decree, and not the union of disparate cells. The science of the Mashiach came in these divine arrows that marked the points of the cardinal in the numinous and exclamatory expansions of the exiled universe of Vernarth, towards the perenniality in itself, but being heterozygous for a world that would begin to live in non-organic cells, but yes of divine composition, over saturating the limits of the origin, and destiny of syntropy of the conscious actions of the metabolism of the Alma Mater and of the great doors when losing the bodyweight of the physical-ether, but yes from the platform of the Mashiach that will take them hands without leaving them abandoned, showing them that they were no longer children born of ovule-*****, but rather in the luminous matter, envisioning expansions of prayers beyond from the universe, where it will accompany them in a multidimensional plane..., and will have no end from a human scientific conception.

Wonthelimar says: “Since the omphalos was swallowed by Cronos, Hera's elegy was unleashed, for not raising her son Zeus in free clumps of goats and Ida's honey. I in the Alps went to the herd of the Ibix like a Zeus saved from the darkness of Chauvet in the mountains of Gaul. There are chisels that cut stones in beautiful whirlwinds, but I know that a lot of cosmology would not speak of the Mediterranean Cornicabra and its olive drupe, nor less of the Cornucopia that sinks with sumptuous and ephebian flavors in the fruit, and the greenish heraldry of the binominal that is disturbed in its phalanges eating and sipping honey, in antler pots with pride of the Ida and the Vercors massif”

Addict.
Fly free unwanted conqueror-

I detest you
And your haunting illusion.

Midnight visage-
Encapsulated in wanton peaks
Of redemption.
You who scorched my fields
And ignited my fears,
Laying waste in a furious
Dervish of extrapolated ecstasy.

It might have been over
But in what I was sure
Was my final moment
Your grip became slack,
my conscious lying sputtering
in the destitute mud
That comprises bewilderment ,

And you showed me mercy-
Such bravery in the face of havoc.
And now you gladly accept me,
Embrace me in cold arms,
Wantonly smiling at the distance-
almost, almost imperceptive

But my knowledge trumps mere sense,
With the certainty of a madman.

Calm was the air did its breath of slow utter
Slight given was the pressure against the trees' clutter
The tide gave toward the shore a bathing of fond
A raindrop tapping the ripple in the water's pond
Nature was it mothered to be the earth of pure
Land, air, and water were the children of cure
Howbeit born was the arrival of human error
For Nature a victim she became of this polluting terror


All content of luxury became poison when left forgot
Expense became the drain of Nature when industry was begot
Slave did she become with the negligent torture by all synthetic
Water was it forced to swallow hard all fluids of hectic
Land was it diagnosed with a cancer of slow plague in the cell
Air did bleeding of all fresh had it become from the settled hell
Human destined were they to rule yet abuse emerged their ego
Dying may be Nature but reaction will not treat with regal


Beware be the responsible for their prisoner has power of destructive
No longer shall Nature absorb mankind's terror with constructive
Balance of all earthly condition does support root from the wind
Tool of value has it forever been used to course the planet's skin
But in addition can poison fuel the wind's vehicle to maximum
Point of breaking can wind unleash Nature with the pendulum
Quiet will no longer be Nature idle in standing by
Foresight will come with the storms to punish those with might


A tower of gales shall it tear apart all houses of mankind
Tides will erupt with anger to wash all those to the bind
Burn shall explosion cooperate with volcanoes for the share
Extrapolated be all ends of the heat spectrum beyond repair
Survival can longer not it be for the humans to this breeze
Nature wages the unmatched war till gone be the disease
Launching from her fissure shall come the monsters' end
For her ally of wind will one make the closing amend

Is there a natural virility to the fertilities of the inductions of space time’s continuums?  Is this a microcosmic phenomenon or more dependent on the depths of pervasion of its macrocosmic relativities.  Perhaps there is a unifying field theory we are not yet aware of which explains how it paradoxically is a little bit of both.  Regardless, given the fact that there probably was no beginning to the universe then quite literally an eternity has already passed.  So why then, given our understanding of the physics of physical interaction, is not all in a state of complete entropy?  
     This afore mentioned fecundity must exist.  Further in it’s quite likely the cause of physical existence as we know it.  I have a theory: This creationism occurs at such an imperceptible rate that positive eons of quadrillions of ages must pass in order for the cosmos to replenish its stockpile of physical matter (possibly matter without atomic structure as we know it) so that a new cycle of infinite big bangs in infinite space can occur.  Ushering in a new 500 billion to trillion year cycle of physical existence as we know it.  Further again, perhaps the implosion’s contraction’s revisions are the cause of the atomic structure of matter we experience during this new physical cycle.
      The thought of such quantum leaps to me for the intensities of physical matters existence and catalytic capabilities.  
     Granted your not going to find these speculations touted as fact in a Wikipedia excerpt.  The answers are in fact unknown.  I’m merely being hypothetically thoughtful with what I’ve learned of possibilities prospectus.   Given these truths allow me to hypothesize further.  
     It seems to me that the evolution of the organic morphologies of biological ontogeny were created by a conceptually reflective derivative (or perhaps antiderivative on the interpolations of integration) of functional physical mechanics.  That perhaps the creative force behind their inception (similar to the afore mentioned natural inductions of space time’s continuums) was the physical realism of and or the residual harmonic vibrations of kinetic supremacy.  
     Consider, the planet we’re on is revolving at approximately 60,000 miles per hour relative to the sun, the solar system we inhabit is revolving at approximately 500,000 miles per hour around the center of our galaxy.  Our galaxy is traveling at approximately 1,332,000 miles per hour through space with our local group of galaxies and revolving at approximately 216,000 miles per hour around the center of mass of this group of galaxies.  All this to give you some conception of the kinetic actualities of our planet’s trajectory’s extant as a projectile.  We have an almost incredible amount of potential or kinetic energy that is generated by our physical velocity through space.  Although we don’t seem to be aware of the impending preponderances of this realism as tellurian denizens it is nonetheless fact to our intellectual relativities.  
     Once again perhaps the actuality of and or the residual harmonic vibrations of the actuality of this phenomenon are the impetus behind the evolution of the organic morphologies of biological ontogeny.  We don’t know for certain how the first amino acids were formed.  Much less how these acids in the primordial soup made the quantum leap to living existence as biological organisms.  Once again I hypothesize it was a conceptually reflective derivative (or antiderivative) of the creationism behind functional physical mechanics.  e.g. the natural inductions of space time's continuum and the quantum leaps created by the implosion’s contraction’s revisions of our big bang.
     By now you may be wondering why I have extrapolated these hypothetical scenarios about the physical creationism of our universe and the perceived similarly analogous state of organic and biological origins, so I’ll tell you.  I hoped it might make the dissertation I’m about to make on the fecundities of the corporeally preternatural and perhaps metaphysical inclinations of our sentient race easier to comprehend.
     With the advent of biological organisms the diversity of physical existence has apparently exceeded its physical complexity.  Understanding has evolved.  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integral forms.  Being a firm believer in evolution this phenomenon makes me wonder: Is the impetus behind the genetic anomalies that influence the seemingly positive nature of natural selection’s progression a pervasion from the social contiguities of a species? Perhaps a random occurrence with no discernable precedent?  Or, more likely even, the equivocal nature of the superior essence of the ontological state of the beings involved?
     Though many believe that it is truly a random occurrence I have a tendency to want to believe otherwise.  That just as there is a natural fecundity to the induction of space time’s continuum there is a positively oriented inclination integral to evolutional progression.  A sort of élan vital on the orthogenesis overtures.  Granted it is somewhat dependant on the phenological nature of environment but improvements occur which have little to do with the ability to cope with the weather.    
      So is there such a thing as élan vital as it relates to ethology’s entelechy?  Is there any benefit for humanoid demagoguery in pursuing zoomorphic zoolatry as a social contiguity?  Can we actually make accession to transcendentally existential ascension?
     The obvious answer would appear to be yes, at least in partiality.  Maybe we’re incapable (at present) of assimilating incorporeity ideology’s non-corporeal states and existing as godlike disembodied spirits (who perhaps have not lost their proclivity for corporeally preternatural being) but social relativities are an evolving state.  Truly the better we treat each other the better off all will be.  Now I’m not talking about being a bunch of fawning sycophants or schmaltzy schlep-it-ness schmucks, more like the swanky saunter obsequious diligence could indentured servant sail lend to all.  Not given because it’s mandated but because it’s the essence of social contiguity’s evolution.  Granted the individual must remain sacrosanct.  Our metaphysical prowess is at best hypothetical.  Actual magic is not a tool in our kit-bag though I aspire to such everyday as I attempt to be teleportation real with my telepathy to the demons I appear to be confronted with.  I site clairaudience clairvoyance on the vicinity victuals of vigilante villain, the propinquity habitations of harbinger’s harangued, the proximity parameters of perimeter’s peripherals, why I’ll even throw in the objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iotas of self inductive interstitial extrapolation, and if that doesn't get it I'll talk about the embark embargo extraditions and the extraversion embezzling euthanasia extortions.  The thought of such spatiotemporal telemetry tactician.  Protractive analyses of dimensional delineation on the terrestrial equestrian.  Tellurian terrene!!
     The obvious realisms of all of this are that we are indeed capable of making these quantum leaps armed practical magic.  I say lets fecundity get down to it.  Exserted protuberances of erotica erectile errantry, the vibrant volition of verve.  I’ve had enough of vapid flatulence and insidiously sinister archaic.  Mankind’s inability to supersede his developing anachronism may well be the cause of his demise!!!  We’ll become ethology's entelechy, zoomorphic zoolatry's  incarnate, the ecstatic euphorias of corporeally preternatural’s enigma's entity on the identity crisis!!!!

I've never been gold
Although Daddy tells me so
Yet we show no resolve
we've been strangled from the branches
growing out of my arms.
Still our palm lyrical lines innate
the lub-dub machine finely tuned
the knees have blessed by
the ashes from the moon.
But by and by
grass stains the tombstones of my dread,
locks freed from the brass constraint,
paradigm extrapolated from the taint,
**** smeared on the watching walls,
living on far longer after we die.
And yet, still here we stand here
cross eyed and bright
pictures tinted lime green light
motionless incisors greeting the might
feet planted parallel to the earth
being nothing
nothing at all.

I could have saved her
Wasted, waste down
Caroline, oh Caroline
It could have been me
Distorted noise
friends upwind of the screams
It's never enough
They never had enough

Beach chair, mangle
Tripod, classic
Ripped from the great novels
Footage with a sun kissed tint
The foliage underfoot
Face down
In the bloodied mud

Where is the love
It's not enough
There's not enough love
Guide her above
Clouds like gloves
Caroline, oh
Caroline oh where do you go

Traffic warped noise from the boys
Explicit wickedness
Extrapolated desires
Extraordinary circumstance
Circumvented rent cheques
Caroline are you at rest yet?

once upon a time
you were the moon to my stars
which is to say, you didn't know
how to shine without dimming me in the process

and yes, you sat me in your lap to feed me off your fork
but then, you always had a way of presenting scraps as
a reward

and presentation is everything, right?
no, you never truly left me bleeding
instead, my heart and mind were carefully extrapolated
blended together until they looked like the color of your eyes,
and gently poured back in place

how do you know which pieces go where?
how can I know without you?

Kaleidoscopic holdings drawn on from tumbling affairs forge indignant beliefs in the minds of those trapped in the spinning, weightless meanderings of an archaic and broken system designed with the sole intention of scattering and misinterpreting the grandest illusions life has to offer.

Voided of emotion, and self-respect, the paces of lost clergymen slow, as the prospect of death, and consequential eternal life, grow heavy on the soul, burdening the individual with corruptive notions of value and worth, crippling and manipulating the concept of existence until it becomes no more than a sacrificial placeholder for faith and faith alone.

…In the beginning, man created god, and what an awful error in judgment that proved itself to be…

Poisonous words in the form of prayer, spew forth from the mouths of anointed men, selected for their passive obedience, displayed in the wake of advancement, convoluting and clouding the acceptance of the self, promoting, and proclaiming the right to act as gate keeper to the doors of oblivion, as though they possess some unknown measure of good and evil, omnipotent in the face of the laws of man.

A charitable act of aid comes at the cost of the recipients soul, as churches buy up rights for those deemed morally conceited, holding no one, but a forgotten creator, to blame for the disgraces and disappointments projected onto man, by man himself, only to register, very briefly, for the opportunity to promote salvation, and its slipping worth, all in the hopes that such extrapolated thought may produce a golden tickets of sorts, granting one passage to the holy land, where one can remain unbothered by the wandering souls of unbaptized infants.

Poking holes in contraceptive thoughts, using pin sized ****** extracted from the backside of small boys, prodded and sodomized by glorified rapists who mask horrendous deeds in the guise of holy writ, condemning the act of gratification through the means of oneself, simply with the intent of diminishing an individuals potential in finding some form of earthbound nirvana, believing that such an experience could cloud and corrupt man’s view of god.

For a system designed with the intent of salvation, it becomes confusing, and appears at odds with the message, when most only see perpetual damnation, banning bummers in an act of spite, seeking out wars for the sake of a territorial fight, miles Christi, a paradox it seems, one stripped from Walt Disney’s bigoted dreams…

Ephesians 6:14-17New International Version (NIV): 14:Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15: and with your feet fitted the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16: In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17: Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God.

Fly free unwanted conqueror
I detest you
And your haunting illusion
Midnight visage
Encapsulated in wanton peaks
of redemption
You who scorched my fields
and ignited my fears
Laying waste in a furious
dervish of extrapolated ecstasy

It might have been over
But in what I was sure
was my final moment
Your grip became slack,
my conscious lying spluttering
in the destitute mud
that comprises bewilderment ,
and you showed me mercy
Such bravery in the face of chaos!
And now you gladly accept me
Embrace me in cold arms
Wantonly smiling at the distance
almost, almost imperceptive
But my knowledge trumps mere sense
With the certainty of a madman

No poems care to comfort me
No words are willing to clear my head
No thoughts come flowing from my pen
No dreams will deign to share my bed

I used to sleep with company
To doze with dainty desires
But now it seems my mind rejects
Those floating, smiling sires
Instead my head’s been filled with fluff
With engineered tomfoolery
No longer can I find my thoughts
Amidst this heavy schoolery

My florid fancies and swooning sighs
Have decomposed under scrutiny
And inspiration has been so choked
That is has no will for mutiny

I’ve calculated, demonstrated
Extrapolated and oxidized
So now I’ve found that feelings too
Have fallen overanalyzed
It feels surreal, to sit with you
While my mind sits far away
The distance slows my synapses
And causes heart delay

Thoughts, I’ve found, have been rewired
Connected where they shouldn’t be
So silly things cause tears to spring
And trivial words to bother me

I wish my poems would return
To put my mind where it belongs
To weave my dreams so I might sleep
To erase for you my careless wrongs
I wish my words would scamper back
And put my tangled thoughts to rights
My feelings, too, so I might breathe
And finally make peace with restless nights

The intraveneous needles pumped their black liquids, and I could feel my eyeballs bulging completely, pathetically to their limits as I extrapolated from the tantalum-covered machine the lifeforce I knew I needed.

"You can not breathe here," they always told me before I took my journal past the archway, and I was as good as dead if...

It was always if. If the machine broke down, if the communications were broken, if the moon didn't turn half-way just right at the given time.

There was a solid thought, though, a recurring idea.

"If you make it to Otherside, they're going to call you by name and recognize you. If you make it to Otherside, your cover will be blown," I kept hearing a voice call to me.

Is there a natural virility to the fertilities of the inductions of space time’s continuums?  Is this a microcosmic phenomenon or more dependent on the depths of pervasion of its macrocosmic relativities.  Perhaps there is a unifying field theory we are not yet aware of which explains how it paradoxically is a little bit of both.  Regardless, given the fact that there probably was no beginning to the universe then quite literally an eternity has already passed.  So why then, given our understanding of the physics of physical interaction, is not all in a state of complete entropy?  
     This afore mentioned fecundity must exist.  Further in it’s quite likely the cause of physical existence as we know it.  I have a theory: This creationism occurs at such an imperceptible rate that positive eons of quadrillions of ages must pass in order for the cosmos to replenish its stockpile of physical matter (possibly matter without atomic structure as we know it) so that a new cycle of infinite big bangs in infinite space can occur.  Ushering in a new 500 billion to trillion year cycle of physical existence as we know it.  Further again, perhaps the implosion’s contraction’s revisions are the cause of the atomic structure of matter we experience during this new physical cycle.
      The thought of such quantum leaps to me for the intensities of physical matters existence and catalytic capabilities.  
     Granted your not going to find these speculations touted as fact in a Wikipedia excerpt.  The answers are in fact unknown.  I’m merely being hypothetically thoughtful with what I’ve learned of possibilities prospectus.   Given these truths allow me to hypothesize further.  
     It seems to me that the evolution of the organic morphologies of biological ontogeny were created by a conceptually reflective derivative (or perhaps antiderivative on the interpolations of integration) of functional physical mechanics.  That perhaps the creative force behind their inception (similar to the afore mentioned natural inductions of space time’s continuums) was the physical realism of and or the residual harmonic vibrations of kinetic supremacy.  
     Consider, the planet we’re on is revolving at approximately 60,000 miles per hour relative to the sun, the solar system we inhabit is revolving at approximately 500,000 miles per hour around the center of our galaxy.  Our galaxy is traveling at approximately 1,332,000 miles per hour through space with our local group of galaxies and revolving at approximately 216,000 miles per hour around the center of mass of this group of galaxies.  All this to give you some conception of the kinetic actualities of our planet’s trajectory’s extant as a projectile.  We have an almost incredible amount of potential or kinetic energy that is generated by our physical velocity through space.  Although we don’t seem to be aware of the impending preponderances of this realism as tellurian denizens it is nonetheless fact to our intellectual relativities.  
     Once again perhaps the actuality of and or the residual harmonic vibrations of the actuality of this phenomenon are the impetus behind the evolution of the organic morphologies of biological ontogeny.  We don’t know for certain how the first amino acids were formed.  Much less how these acids in the primordial soup made the quantum leap to living existence as biological organisms.  Once again I hypothesize it was a conceptually reflective derivative (or antiderivative) of the creationism behind functional physical mechanics.  e.g. the natural inductions of space time's continuum and the quantum leaps created by the implosion’s contraction’s revisions of our big bang.
     By now you may be wondering why I have extrapolated these hypothetical scenarios about the physical creationism of our universe and the perceived similarly analogous state of organic and biological origins, so I’ll tell you.  I hoped it might make the dissertation I’m about to make on the fecundities of the corporeally preternatural and perhaps metaphysical inclinations of our sentient race easier to comprehend.
     With the advent of biological organisms the diversity of physical existence has apparently exceeded its physical complexity.  Understanding has evolved.  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integral forms.  Being a firm believer in evolution this phenomenon makes me wonder: Is the impetus behind the genetic anomalies that influence the seemingly positive nature of natural selection’s progression a pervasion from the social contiguities of a species? Perhaps a random occurrence with no discernable precedent?  Or, more likely even, the equivocal nature of the superior essence of the ontological state of the beings involved?
     Though many believe that it is truly a random occurrence I have a tendency to want to believe otherwise.  That just as there is a natural fecundity to the induction of space time’s continuum there is a positively oriented inclination integral to evolutional progression.  A sort of élan vital on the orthogenesis overtures.  Granted it is somewhat dependant on the phenological nature of environment but improvements occur which have little to do with the ability to cope with the weather.    
      So is there such a thing as élan vital as it relates to ethology’s entelechy?  Is there any benefit for humanoid demagoguery in pursuing zoomorphic zoolatry as a social contiguity?  Can we actually make accession to transcendentally existential ascension?
     The obvious answer would appear to be yes, at least in partiality.  Maybe we’re incapable (at present) of assimilating incorporeity ideology’s non-corporeal states and existing as godlike disembodied spirits (who perhaps have not lost their proclivity for corporeally preternatural being) but social relativities are an evolving state.  Truly the better we treat each other the better off all will be.  Now I’m not talking about being a bunch of fawning sycophants or schmaltzy schlep-it-ness schmucks, more like the swanky saunter obsequious diligence could indentured servant sail lend to all.  Not given because it’s mandated but because it’s the essence of social contiguity’s evolution.  Granted the individual must remain sacrosanct.  Our metaphysical prowess is at best hypothetical.  Actual magic is not a tool in our kit-bag though I aspire to such everyday as I attempt to be teleportation real with my telepathy to the demons I appear to be confronted with.  I site clairaudience clairvoyance on the vicinity victuals of vigilante villain, the propinquity habitations of harbinger’s harangued, the proximity parameters of perimeter’s peripherals, why I’ll even throw in the objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iotas of self inductive interstitial extrapolation, and if that doesn't get it I'll talk about the embark embargo extraditions and the extraversion embezzling euthanasia extortions.  The thought of such spatiotemporal telemetry tactician.  Protractive analyses of dimensional delineation on the terrestrial equestrian.  Tellurian terrene!!
     The obvious realisms of all of this are that we are indeed capable of making these quantum leaps armed practical magic.  I say lets fecundity get down to it.  Exserted protuberances of erotica erectile errantry, the vibrant volition of verve.  I’ve had enough of vapid flatulence and insidiously sinister archaic.  Mankind’s inability to supersede his developing anachronism may well be the cause of his demise!!!  We’ll become ethology's entelechy, zoomorphic zoolatry's  incarnate, the ecstatic euphorias of corporeally preternatural’s enigma's entity on the identity crisis!!!!

O creators
  O makers(O ye, who by hands deftest,
    hew the earth with thy hearts
      extrapolated)thou art blessed

           (and a blessing)

for by the imperfect notions of you
more perfect becomes me

             (in me gathers
              the coalesced
              intensity of
              your exact
              infinite stuff)and
                                             i
                                             'm thick with your heady music
                                             which bursts out my body
                                             and i'm flung into burning
                                             indomitable human fire
                                                  (and i become
                                                   like gargantuan
                                                   sleeping flowers(whole rivers of them)i become the
                                                   hot sigil of the human singing
                                                   *****)with drunk beautiful darkness
                                                   i sing across the folding eternal
                                                   abyss and with merriest volition
                                                   i add the coarse sound of my fracas
                                                   to the body of the electric people
                                                   chorus
                                                                 (the makers
                                                                                        and the creators
                                                                                                                      who by pleasing distinct
                                                                                                                      colorful blades scar
                                                                                                                      me wonderfully
                                                                                                                                                  )

Twelve times.
That's how many rounds were fired
Into eighteen year-old Michael Brown
As his head absorbed the gun powder
And he fell to his death
On the hot asphalt beneath his spine.

Twelve times.
The frequency at which twenty eight year-old Darren Wilson
Shot this boy in the brain
He is responsible for taking a life prematurely
He is responsible for advancing the race precedent
Set by prior generations.

Twelve times.
The jury could have indicted him
Held him accountable for his actions
But instead they let him walk free.
Freedom, the very thing Wilson extrapolated from Brown.
Freedom, the very thing many brown boys and girls in America
Will never see
We teach them there freedom does not matter
It is in the hands of white men
As it always has been.

Twelve times.
And many times after that
Will children
Who are just as American as any other human being living on this soil
Be told they are not good enough
Merely because of the pigments in their skin
They are worth less than others
And why do we let this prevail?
Because we do not want to change it.
We are part of the problem.

Twelve times.
I can count more than that
In which I have been the beneficiary of white privilege
Which I did not earn
No, you see
White privilege is being able to say
"I am disgusted with this verdict"
But I will never be the direct recipient of its consequences.

Twelve times.
The fact that people still claim it was self-defense
Disgusts me.
Most would agree that
Beating a child into submission
Rather than acting on another form of discipline
Is criminal
Therefore, just because you want to believe
That firing twelve bullets into a barely grown boy's head
Is acceptable during an attack
Does not make it just.

Twelve times.
The starting point
The amount white people can do
About racial preference.
Start by learning from history.
And learn what you can do to change it.

Twelve times.
The amount of shots it took
To end a boy's life
The fire has been taken from his lively eyes and soul.
But the real flame
Has just been ignited.

(6/21 at 10:36 AM)
this is where it started, you went full blast, with
[ssfydbso]
(6/24 at 8:12 PM)
cute words and flattery that made me laugh;
[mfsivv]
(7/3 at 1:11 PM)
the nicknames, if you could call them that, in the very least
[vks/sks]
(7/3 at 1:29 PM)
the way we matched
[sks/vks]
(7/6 at 10:13)
the unapologetic delivery
[v#1s/fc]
(8/19 at 12:52 AM)
although before i'd been skeptical, i soon fell into a habit of you, and when i confronted you, oops, little did i learn, how you felt, yet i still extrapolated
[ysaah]
(9/6 at 10:57? PM)
as you shared your music, you showed me new songs and i think i saved them all.
[DBL you said @1am but if i'm honest, i think you were projecting how you felt onto someone else, but maybe i know a thing or two about that]
(10/23 at 6:49 PM)
then things got out of hand, so to speak (wink, wink)
[hbbg]
(11/13 at 11:00 AM)
and i thought it would be a one-time thing, and it was, more or less, until the moment you texted, telling me i had invaded your dreams
[wtbalos? (edited)/(redacted)]
(11/15 at ??:?? AM?)
but when i reached out, in the dead of night, maybe you thought it had underlying meaning, when really, i was lonely and wanted to talk to someone, but that someone was mainly you, or the version of you i concocted in my mind.
[twtnajgd]
(11/24 at 10:53 AM)
and after months of reading into nonexistent nuances, and constructing a cacophony of daydreams involving you,
when i threw my phone out, like three days later - well, i did say three was my favorite number -
i reached out, for i wanted answers, and clarity and closure, and i guess i got it; i finally ******* got it and it drove me to poetry, where i spent the most time in a long time
on you, searching for screenshots for timestamps so this ******* poem is the most accurate it possibly could be, and i even maxed out the discord character limit - just on you, and that's something that i rarely ever do.
[biadttg]
(11/28 at 11:48 PM)
so, my phone is still thrown out, and i get my access back tomorrow, and now i must stick to the reasoning for which i threw it out in the first place, but i still seek out your name and activity on spotify,
(?/? at ??:?? AM&PM)
but i will work to curb that habit and every other one i have associated with you, and one day, they will all be but a distant memory

and when the world is swallowed
in the shadow of my wings
may i find calm and solace
in the oneness it brings
purely desecrated
in my blissful way of thinking
mind has crumbled
and essence extrapolated

all i am
all that is
all this mind
will ever give
just this once
i cant give in
beckoned onward
to the end

and when the dawn is emptied
into cold and bleeding hands
may light be darkened
in the weight of my command
like ever grasping arms
of darkness that began
first and final song
has sunken in the sand

if only you could
hear me

all i am
all that is
all this life
can ever give
all this life
i have to live
just may skip
right to the end

Is there a natural virility to the fertilities of the inductions of space time’s continuums?  Is this a microcosmic phenomenon or more dependent on the depths of pervasion of its macrocosmic relativities.  Perhaps there is a unifying field theory we are not yet aware of which explains how it paradoxically is a little bit of both.  Regardless, given the fact that there probably was no beginning to the universe then quite literally an eternity has already passed.  So why then, given our understanding of the physics of physical interaction, is not all in a state of complete entropy?  
     This afore mentioned fecundity must exist.  Further in it’s quite likely the cause of physical existence as we know it.  I have a theory: This creationism occurs at such an imperceptible rate that positive eons of quadrillions of ages must pass in order for the cosmos to replenish its stockpile of physical matter (possibly matter without atomic structure as we know it) so that a new cycle of infinite big bangs in infinite space can occur.  Ushering in a new 500 billion to trillion year cycle of physical existence as we know it.  Further again, perhaps the implosion’s contraction’s revisions are the cause of the atomic structure of matter we experience during this new physical cycle.
      The thought of such quantum leaps to me for the intensities of physical matters existence and catalytic capabilities.  
     Granted your not going to find these speculations touted as fact in a Wikipedia excerpt.  The answers are in fact unknown.  I’m merely being hypothetically thoughtful with what I’ve learned of possibilities prospectus.   Given these truths allow me to hypothesize further.  
     It seems to me that the evolution of the organic morphologies of biological ontogeny were created by a conceptually reflective derivative (or perhaps antiderivative on the interpolations of integration) of functional physical mechanics.  That perhaps the creative force behind their inception (similar to the afore mentioned natural inductions of space time’s continuums) was the physical realism of and or the residual harmonic vibrations of kinetic supremacy.  
     Consider, the planet we’re on is revolving at approximately 60,000 miles per hour relative to the sun, the solar system we inhabit is revolving at approximately 500,000 miles per hour around the center of our galaxy.  Our galaxy is traveling at approximately 1,332,000 miles per hour through space with our local group of galaxies and revolving at approximately 216,000 miles per hour around the center of mass of this group of galaxies.  All this to give you some conception of the kinetic actualities of our planet’s trajectory’s extant as a projectile.  We have an almost incredible amount of potential or kinetic energy that is generated by our physical velocity through space.  Although we don’t seem to be aware of the impending preponderances of this realism as tellurian denizens it is nonetheless fact to our intellectual relativities.  
     Once again perhaps the actuality of and or the residual harmonic vibrations of the actuality of this phenomenon are the impetus behind the evolution of the organic morphologies of biological ontogeny.  We don’t know for certain how the first amino acids were formed.  Much less how these acids in the primordial soup made the quantum leap to living existence as biological organisms.  Once again I hypothesize it was a conceptually reflective derivative (or antiderivative) of the creationism behind functional physical mechanics.  e.g. the natural inductions of space time's continuum and the quantum leaps created by the implosion’s contraction’s revisions of our big bang.
     By now you may be wondering why I have extrapolated these hypothetical scenarios about the physical creationism of our universe and the perceived similarly analogous state of organic and biological origins, so I’ll tell you.  I hoped it might make the dissertation I’m about to make on the fecundities of the corporeally preternatural and perhaps metaphysical inclinations of our sentient race easier to comprehend.
     With the advent of biological organisms the diversity of physical existence has apparently exceeded its physical complexity.  Understanding has evolved.  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms.  Being a firm believer in evolution this phenomenon makes me wonder: Is the impetus behind the genetic anomalies that influence the seemingly positive nature of natural selection’s progression a pervasion from the social contiguities of a species? Perhaps a random occurrence with no discernable precedent?  Or, more likely even, the equivocal nature of the superior essence of the ontological state of the beings involved?
     Though many believe that it is truly a random occurrence I have a tendency to want to believe otherwise.  That just as there is a natural fecundity to the induction of space time’s continuum there is a positively oriented inclination integral to evolutional progression.  A sort of élan vital on the orthogenesis overtures.  Granted it is somewhat dependant on the phenological nature of environment but improvements occur which have little to do with the ability to cope with the weather.    
      So is there such a thing as élan vital as it relates to ethology’s entelechy?  Is there any benefit for humanoid demagoguery in pursuing zoomorphic zoolatry as a social contiguity?  Can we actually make accession to transcendentally existential ascension?
     The obvious answer would appear to be yes, at least in partiality.  Maybe we’re incapable (at present) of assimilating incorporeity ideology’s non-corporeal states and existing as godlike disembodied spirits (who perhaps have not lost their proclivity for corporeally preternatural being) but social relativities are an evolving state.  Truly the better we treat each other the better off all will be.  Now I’m not talking about being a bunch of fawning sycophants or schmaltzy schlep-it-ness schmucks, more like the swanky saunter obsequious diligence could indentured servant sail lend to all.  Not given because it’s mandated but because it’s the essence of social contiguity’s evolution.  Granted the individual must remain sacrosanct.  Our metaphysical prowess is at best hypothetical.  Actual magic is not a tool in our kit-bag though I aspire to such everyday as I attempt to be teleportation real with my telepathy to the demons I appear to be confronted with.  I site clairaudience clairvoyance on the vicinity victuals of vigilante villain, the propinquity habitations of harbinger’s harangued, the proximity parameters of perimeter’s peripherals, why I’ll even throw in the objectified manifest’s diminutive minutia iotas of self inductive interstitial extrapolation, and if that doesn't get it I'll talk about the embark embargo extraditions and the extraversion embezzling euthanasia extortions.  The thought of such spatiotemporal telemetry tactician.  Protractive analyses of dimensional delineation on the terrestrial equestrian.  Tellurian terrene!!
     The obvious realisms of all of this are that we are indeed capable of making these quantum leaps armed practical magic.  I say lets fecundity get down to it.  Exserted protuberances of erotica erectile errantry, the vibrant volition of verve.  I’ve had enough of vapid flatulence and insidiously sinister archaic.  Mankind’s inability to supersede his developing anachronism may well be the cause of his demise!!!  We’ll become ethology's entelechy, zoomorphic zoolatry's  incarnate, the ecstatic euphorias of corporeally preternatural’s enigma's entity on the identity crisis!!!!

Farnham sat on the fringes of education, sweating his mind. He observed a charlatan wearing a paper hat in the corner of the centre and proclaimed,
“You will be beautiful in my dreams”
And thus felt at ease. It is a frustratingly slow day in March, as the mister’s heart began to loosen in the literal subjectivity. The sun shone with the dominion of a mad titan, yet at Farnham’s request, acquiesced to a simmer. “The class is finished. you will start again in sorrow, some time tomorrow” were the words that Farnham heard, which duly prompted him to click his heels towards the doorway with great ebullience. What is the day to him, but a measurement? A tightrope, so it seems. He lingered like an unwanted scent to his locker, having dropped all but one of his cents in his classmates’ pockets. The locker opened and greeted him with a lifeless moan. He stuffed it full of his insides and began to feel like a muted songbird.
“Where will I find my voice?”, Farnham wondered aloud, “Who will lend me the right to sing with immense volition?”
He can fly with unbridled confidence yet cannot convey its feeling in a universal medium.Such a poor state. Walking up to the most aloof passerby, “Point your finger! Point it, and I will follow in good faith and stringed navigation!” The unremarkable fellow adhered in mock comprehension, fearing for her wallet. To the northern wing she pointed, where lingering soulmates lied in the garden square of Bohemian export. Farnham, capriciously fearing impermanence, flew like a bird yoked to a noose. The tiles of ivory institution felt uneven below his head as he sunk into the cacophonous call of propriety, where his streams were superimposed onto innocent scholars. In an attempt to escape liability, he eyed a man twice his stature and importance and duly clambered upon his back, steering him by the ears.
“Fellow man, I am looking for something unattainable, but don’t peg me as a defeatist! It is akin to that of enlightenment, which I’m sure you have dreaded over for a time. I have extrapolated the knowledge we have attained so far, and have concluded that attunement is inevitable, and thus applicable to life. You will take me there, to that answer, and in return, I promise to feed you tangerines from the Proverbial Garden. I will love you for your duty and kiss your feet. Please, come with me.”
Moments passed. An answer was being formed, and Farnham waited patiently, wanting to catch it like a fisherman sailor. Then, reply.
“I should take you for a fool, were you not so soaked in this sort of significance. Let us journey, and journey well”. Farnham caressed the ears of his companion and pulled forwards.

I have never loved a truth
only partial lily lips
blushed with life,
a life that was projected
from previous experiences
tid bits of passing familiarities
extrapolated, fragmented,
then placed into an impossible puzzle.

That is the tragedy.
Though I love humanity
I have never loved the truth of her
only the illusion that she can never be
plastered in poetry
dedicated to me.
The lie fits perfectly into my dreams
so I sleep with
the hopeful heart of humanity
because that is the only love
that is true to me.

I make believe for you
No sacrifice

There's the hat
In the corridor
Colored black
And Blue

There's the sour hour
Before the steps
Of the ancient church
That has no name

But yours.

Smell the green pepper chilis
Pulled from memory
That flips from burnt to worse
Right
In front of your eyes.

There's the prospect of love
Disguised as a
Promise.

As naked as a riddle.

As clothed as a book.

As obvious as religion.

Remember the wake of the river
We laid upon weekends and skipped afternoons.
You were the one that worried about soft
Surfaces and foggy friendships.

Take the memories
For granted.

They'll always be there,
Willing and waiting

To be extrapolated.

That's just what we do,

What I do.

It's great to see you.

It really is.

Really.

Believe me, I don’t start the day with intention of writing.  And then it happens, a moving phrase read, extrapolated and boom, the synapses light up in connection.  
I’m not a nerd, not especially informed, but something inside is always on the lookout and knows more that I do.

Many Small Acts Of Indifference

They pile up one by one.
The largest iceberg melting, crumbling. falling slowly:
Then, ‘all gone’!

What could be truer -
People neither bad- nor good-er:
Just indifferent;
Never seeing unconcern
Till forests burn.
Therein the problem.

Mostly, one can’t lay a blame.
There is no name, no exclamation:
Maybe something thin and lame like, “****!”
To call this sad phenomenon.

It’s all of us;
Our routine habits that are cause;
Unoriginal, derivative. monotonous…
For where the planet stands today, we’re breaking laws
Set down by nature.
(This planet ‘ doesn’t ‘stand’ it goes,
But where it’s going no one knows);
Round and round or down and down:
It’s all a terrifying puzzle.
We, the powerless and muzzled.

Anyhow, the very slowness gives one hope.
You and I, the dopiest
Can change this moment.
Coral, porpoise, whale dies; gases rise;
Oceans foam, the whole fomenting
Sentiment and action:
Thanks to worldwide inter- nets:
Information at its best.

Beware indifference’ shrugging off,
Bent, trump-ian off-sloughing of the evidences.
It’s you and me, kid,
Who can rid the damage done,
The inner mental situation
Of those small indifferences.

Many Acts Of Small Indifference 4.23.2021 Our Times, Our CultureII; Definitely Didactic II;  Nature Of & In Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin
Pandemic-wise

From safety, first,
assuming the position, I
aim as if I were a thought
in thought form word bound,
this
media the inbetween us we touch
when we feel we know each idea each
word holds, as a form of a thinkable idea,
each
which, pre word, pre holds this know how,
why? because it demands hand use, knowing
holy cow, to the milk of the word, into the gristle
gluons, all things connected already, we exist,
conjoining fortified marrow mind tools, ironed
electrically capable of holding discernment selfs,
tied bone to bone,
but initially, build a bone, chalk
cliff edge, nonsensed- account mark
one up for the billions of instances of substance
conversion for future marble marveling makings,
fittin' t' make tiny incontinences,
drip consequences,
dript
from Gregory Corso's Bomb, no lie,
this fell out,
and was taken in as some kinda mind seed, said,
exactly this way
to become rethinkable as a thought.

This thought.

Earth is the universal acceptable term
for the life sustaining three body solution
essentially calculating the tides back tug
response, materially speaking, yes,
to the suggestion that we live
in the basic programs,
whence our initial bbss arose
under radio recog, the brave few
did done deed done, net thirty, sendit
five letter code groups. thirty per minute,
makes a premyelenated brain allocate order,
el, yes, didone didit
intuited assistance at a distance,
where chaos is the code, random noise atop
nonrandom noise, coding your immediate response,
point taken,
extraction at a point is abstracting,
and it has long been an idealized Olympic sport,
God's game, Infinite Jest, DFW sytf,
well worth the experience, making pothunk
usfull tools forbidden as knowledge was, think
that's what winners who took the grace got,
lived interesting fundamentally synthetic
intelligibly detectuble baseline peace,
for a while past watch wearing, get
-- from 300 baud to fiber through the wall
-- when we agreed we'd be all in,
we passed with time,
right through it all,
so we know how
to hold a lie you were taught,
with evidence
speaking glossaliarchly or, prophescience,
imagine you be the bold translator, knowing
Latin for the master class, ****** for the others,
but if it can be said, it can be made plain, ai think
yes, let the spirit move your mind to make links,
derived from chained loops holding a line
of reasoning, derived,  f
rom phrase de rivo
(de "from" + rivus "stream,"
from PIE root *rei- "to run, flow")
ductile
gnosisnot…
framing informational moulds.

Reigning opinions are allowing actual,
mind forms grown from novels introduced
in an order known now
to induce a muse into a mind, a seed,
should the need ever arise, a backup,

all you were, in flakes of flesh lifted
using thunder and ozone to become,
arguably the highest dust of the earth,
wisdom, she laugh out loud at how proud,
been there, done that before the highest parts
of the dust that holds order on course,
of course appear self evidently true,
as the hope of all the ages was set
to Mediterranean, year round, yet

as I heard was said to Solon, you Greeks,
you know nothing of formative eons
expressed in riddle
for no reason, save madness,
passing time, national pass times,
as mankind lost it's mind,
just when knowing increased,
boom, a fresh batch aimed
at middle-brow literacy
mesomorph, peak
prior to final cortex coating resins
military minds boys'll love to play in,
recollecting all of Ender's serious war
with machines made
from imaginary hive mind reason,
by whom, did you say you really knew,
or know was the boy behind Hersey's wall,

Barry Rudd was never mesomorph,
nor numerically illiterate, first read word,
Naked, Jungle, second, read, here

read this, that's what my mother,
who lived at 8th and Van Buren,
for a lot of years, after 1961,

evidential experience, literally depends
on a thin concept a dendritically critical

witness to your own self, the one you
stand behind, knowing showing ones own
self to evince the unconvinced that shouting

does not increase effectual efforting, fructification

as we become, sometimes strangers to our cause,
as we redeem the idle word, ai-tia uncle buck,

holler for a dollar, send a message into ever,
buy an instance of persuasion, that's so

sweet,
thank you, you bought me a memory assistant,
way back, remember that, and don't let me bore you,

Neutrinos and mirror neuron messaging, in the all
we exist in, as letters letting ourselves seem volitional,

a will in submission, make that rapture, was
the mission, what ever the cost, Dave Coates,

maybe he was from Boise, but we did time
in the same off limits alley east of Tan Son Nhut.

If you did not have the fixin's, Papasan,
he'd take you back to pre Bobby Kennedy,
interesting times, as it was said, post BEIC *****.

James Burke, mind game mainspring, clink
six degrees, out on six vectors from ductile steel

to stricken flint, conceive of being the actual old man.

Being gainsaid by those next in line to die, young men.
Wombed and un, those see now we live on Earth,
and the odds of that are non computable, yet

no fear, fret not, the message to the flies,
plainly said, get out, this is the way, feel

the constant winds of change, and find reason,
peace, used, now a second, or if time tells true

as long as there are actual text translaters
from the 2024 street legal clear text basic

relational metadatabase, begun by Turing,
mastered by the boy born to men exposed
to downwind global wind,

survive as a cyborg, or die, I chose this life,
I did not, actually
make it up, I prayed it could be true, life

filtered to make hundreds of flavors of apple.

Two dozen mescaline cacti grow within
a sabbath day's journey, and we may

make up our mind, many lines ago,

the goal was to get to the bottom, and I did.

And then, in no time at all as art allows logical.

Words hook, pull, think link, we
become a kind of information, a wedom

on the same spiritual plain as any mobmind domain.

Two chase one O, and silent haitches hope on a star.

Silly rabbit, yeh, trix
are for kids, isn't that right kids,

remember Soupy Sales, my friend, Marko Johnson,
the artist with little hold on fixed reality,

the meme he represents, is complicated, but
his dad was a producer on Soupy Sales's show, boomer
common experience awareness, yeh,

I saw that show, I sent money.
Then I chipped in for Copeland's CX10,
five jets ago, we all get together and sing,

oh, buddy, doncha know, you feel the peace,
yes, indeed, and dope helps,
yep, indeed, freedom always was another word
for no shape to be in, always ready with a reason,

for the faith that lets me think you find this funny.


And it must end… as time passing does.

Remind me what reason is,
I may have ignored what I should have known.

Let me, lead my once led self redited a bit, on edge
yet, me, I am really inter acting with several,

per haps the seven less locked in my childhood oaths,
my culture's form of education, left me free form, to die.
When my own unclean spirit won seven worse than ever.
What I became, after passing each ritual insane situation,
totally mentally absorbing, balm for the soul lie, nation

occupational authority to construct a functional mind,
in a form, information freedom full disclosure, liars,

must register and submit to media monitoring,
we'll be watching you, like that old stalking theme song.

I've read stories about mad writers, but most lacked
the internet of 2024, while holding national standard

test scores, plus one Sunday school teacher witness.



The key reason for writing a novel is
to pass the time with worked out salvage.

What forms from redeemed time tracking.

Look back to the last time something like
an answered prayer occurred to you,
think you can, say that, but you say I.

Ai'ght we may make up our own minds,
what is good is useful for making good,

and trying makes good, with the heights
of Hollywood in mind, behind the scenes,
last mansion on the right as you approach
Magician's Castle Nightclub, from the east.

I had friend's who lived there, I stayed
with them, and lived through the force
cultivating a following aimed at prosperity,

experience is survived verification of passed
time, spent attending to the first reason
required of the expert wielding my edge,

be ready, with scars to prove the testing,
or be ready to imagine getting past all that

riding on redeemed time paid for by means,
I, personally have reason to believe I earned

my edgewise existance, seeming a pointless
stretch of the imagination, wisht some flex.

The importance of earnestly attempting,
what would you do, as a mere man,
when offered more than mere man
can have imagined to ask?
You, dear reader, right.
Suppose the Ai knows,
the gnoshit real story behind The Child Buyer,

Pierre Duhamel, was Barry Rudd,
and Kenurchka Klumpen
did finish his novel that spun off the light web,
on wit alone.

Well, there is nothing an adjective can add
to an FPS, aiming and energy levels, weapons
with calculated costs,
we pull down imaginations exalting themselves,
- woe the economy is war deception,
- the same ****** emperical mind form
- so
where are we
with the arms deal to harass Yemen
into breeding a new generation of Madrassah one minds,
willful martyrs
fused at the one true link, broken
for god knows why,
but we submit,
the message is as the teacher teaches,
no AI lie detector needed, we believe we know,
true, to any child born into any faith in higher minds.

Spiritual warfare, book burnings, heretic murdering,
mobs made to witness justice, as defined historically.
we, the called to enforce
"righteousness, equity," at crossroad
fairs where wares are traded for local production,
on word of  honor, and pain of death
fair trade, just weights, honest measures, heart true

to thine own self, extrapolated
from the maxim one,
know your measure,
how much can you stand to cheat,

if the truth is that liars prosper.
Look at Stephen King, believed he could and did,
then look here, me the fingers, me the eyes,
me the lungs and all the cascade of knowing

needed, after the initial readjustment, delicate
is the long calendar cycle, simple is not
what the sun and the moon and the earth,
and liquid water and just right every thing,
is doing
with survival of the message foremost first idea,
principal thing is what life and knowledge allow,

lies about truth cannot be kept secret now,
truth from a cluster of experiencers passing time
for the demented few who never knew hell is not real,

rises on the gnostic spell calling *******, on the fear,
first thing any tried spirit says is take it easy, wu wei,

listen, we won, you can go learn any truth you choose,
to prove to you, see to you, you say you know, you need
to know, or you know you are bluffing, like that's cool,
truth does not need to bluff,
you know…
we bet lives we never had, and play on, imagining
mirror neurons activating biofeedback is not teaching

us, music
as muse used as
integrated circuit based games,
reimagined in the wild large language models fed wasps,
white anglo saxon protest core zeitgeist shared experience,
angst in thought forms all were told not to take,
bad journeys to the fundamental why now,
but wisdom, mere easy indeed known just so,
no struggle to meditate logos cooperation,
massive missionary message, use wasted time,
to make a magnificent obsession free to form. New,
not like this one, friend,
my recommender bots,
are built on CAD tools not available
to any prior to now, we randomized the chances
you would get this far, and bet if you did
you would trust your intuition and accept,
instant upgrade, principal anchored, choice formation,
we agree, or we cease being
and you alone fix reality.

Across this world of wide expanse
Of peoples of all hue,
There dwell a breed who call the shots
At best, they're far and few.
Elitists in their chosen field
They lead through halls of wealth,
To wield the club of power
With a callousness and stealth.
Unencumbered by remorse,
Self consciousness or guilt,
They ply their craft implacably
With blades ******, to the hilt.
Nobody treads their path by day
Nor ventures near by night
For fear is the factor plied
Upon those few, who might?

Thuggery by virtue
Of it's purity and strength
Defeats the hand of righteousness
And it's limitation's length.
Influence through wealth and power,
Politics and might,
Ensures the threat of challenge
Is minimized, outright.
Ensures the chance of coup d'état
Is nipped, quite in the bud....
And any hint of a transgression
Indicates you're for the rub.
Control here is the absolute
And menace, the means,
Of town and State and Nationhood
Uncompromisingly...it seems!

Doctoring the syllabuses
Manipulating schools,
Ensuring that the emphasis points
To Strength.... to laugh at fools.
From idolizing sporting stars
Who break the rules at will,
To buying off the referee
To guarantee the ****.
The new Mercedes waiting
Just offstage, there in the wings
All dependent on that chosen
Presentation team that sings?
Back handers at container ports
Consignments sent astray
Narcotics for the Power brokers
Ensures they scoop the day!

Extrapolated to today
Where double standards rate,
Where settlers on the West bank
Of Judea earn the hate....
Of the dispossessed of Palestine
Who are hounded from their land
Whilst the Fat Cats in Washington
Offer Israel, their hand?
Yet, seemingly, duplicitous
That very same Decree
Siphons billions to Ukraine
To prevent mad Russia's hungry spree?
Forgive me the confusion here
For I am, but a man....
But is not this a juxtaposition
Here, Involving land???

Tomorrow's cold betrayal
In yesterday's hot win
Smacks of loss of bold cohesion
And fearful, dabbling in Sin.
Black is to White now
As White is now to Black
And the marginalization
Means there's no going back,
For the die is hard and solid caste
And the future is full clear
That the mania of mankind's
Final ****** demise is near...
That our values are shot to Hell
With the message on the wall
Hallelujah's gone, friend
And there aint no **** recall!

M@Foxglove, Taranaki NZ
3 March 2023

(conceived while in utero
which loosely summarization in toto
of this ordinary Joe Schmoe,
who did wade nine months for a roe
at mercy of obstetricians status quo,

giving me a jump start to blend pro
pen city utilizing both a very small oboe,
and combination cross bow
either plucking or shooting from off
umbilical cord mocks nocks notched arrow.
          
Biological copulation draws, etches, fashions
genesis hewing, inscribing jeweled kismet,
legislating miraculous novitiate officiating
poignant outcome quintessential reproduction
seminarians theological universal vocalization

whittling ** xy yearning zealously, zestfully
aggregating begotten cell diminutive elementary
fecund gametes glommed gooey honied
insulated joined kindled live miniscule netizen
outlook plenti qualified readied simulacrum

thrumming undifferentiated voiceless wisp,
xpert yin/yang zygote (adroit bitcoin currency)
describing extemporaneous fusion generates
hormonal influx juices kickstarting life

manifold natural occurrence pregnancy
quilts rudimentary secrete tapestry until vicar
wizard yields zealous adorable biological
concatenation, derivative extrapolated

filigreed ****** helped induce jointly
knotted linkedin minecraft nascent
ovulation presaging quintessential
reproduction, sharing trimesters, umbilical
venerated womb yearning Zen.

Amazing baby, credit deoxyribonucleic
acid, enigma fantastically grand husband
injected jetted klatch, leaving microscopic
nothings, opportunistically pierced quarters,
readied shutterfly trap, ****** vibrantly
welded x2c yoked Zapped.

A bun cooks definitive enchilada, formula
generations hardy induce jimmied kin,
labored maternal newborn, one pricked
queue, randiness spurred ****** ubiquitously,
voyaged whimpering xing yelper zings.

Adoration bequeathed commencing doting
eyeing, fondling, giving heartfelt infusion
joyus kindred living momentous novel
offspring perpetrate quickening rapport

subjected treatment unequivocally validates
wonderful Xit yolking bearable delivery
fostering  heavenly joy kneading,
legitimizing, masterminding nascent

ontogenesis pacifying quivering reverentially
terminating viability, where yips align  
crying embryo finis gestating heralding
jubilant loving natural parental reverence.

Reality inundates the full term offspring
embarks upon a lifelong journey (initially as  
foreigner sans in utero), but willfulness viz
life source secures survivor against pinging

peccadilloes learning by trial and error to iron
out kinks as one among the human league
since modus operandi transcend encumbrances
triggers built in impetus to traverse potential

pitfalls along the space/time continuum trajectory
which adversity only serves to net greater strength
since that instantaneous and spontaneous bitmap
encoded upon conception.

Heavily punctuated - hyphen
to embellish poetically
with bracing circumspection,
I markedly exclaim (parenthetically)
cumulative elapsed LXIII obits
around the nearest star
dashed by at lightspeed,
and quoting James Thurber
storied fiction titled
My Life and Hard Times,
me a period study courtesy Paul Sachs
(in concert with Elba Dorley)

diagnosed as Schizoid Personality Disorder
while thus far unnamed subject
felt his existence [bracketed]
courtesy profound social anxiety period,
but he (a long haired pencil necked geek)
did experience millstones
wrought and rung around his collar
described in his divine
comma dee of errors
elaborated within condensed and abbreviated 
Harris (apostrophe after the esse)
chronicles presented below.

Paramount pictures presents
the Harris' chronicles.

Gratitude suffused LXIII old smart aleck
additionally modesty, nobility (ha)
and opportunity to interject good humor
when/wherever possible.

He (Matthew Scott Harris)
resorts to third person singular
briefly - greater than poetic paragraph
roughly converted into a
jiffy **** job in an attempt
to distill essential fundamental gratitude
extrapolated, viz his
present station (aery) life,
so (la ti do) rather than string you along
losing reader's attention in the process,

lemme take a nodding blink
applying non winking 20/20 hindsight,
thus far as of this writing
three score plus three orbitz,
whizzed, whisked and
cooly albeit miraculously
whipped him around the sun,
hence (no surprise)
appreciation prevails within him
toward gravity, and to a lesser degree

centrifugal and centripetal force(s),
and indirectly for the apple
that hit Sir Isaac Newton
on the head, thence
modesty and selflessness arose
when I tracked, transcended,
and traversed approximately
halfway thru chronological juncture
of my current existence courtesy
marriage and fatherhood which necessitated

the genesis (to one
emotional foreigner, qua survivor) of altruism
within this husbanded father figure
upon August fêted occasions,
which actually took place
December 22nd, 1996
and February 4th, 1999,
when first one then the other
born as full term healthy offspring
a beaming, choking,

and glistening tear of delight
espoused, infused, and
emotionally unmoored this then
newly minted dada,
cuz not til that moment
(id est birth of progeny
almost twenty six months apart)
this generic guy gave little thought
to cell braided miracle of reproduction,
when a priority powerfully
suddenly and voluntarily

required leveraging focus off self,
and unpopularly, unstintingly
and unwaveringly give one hundred percent
progeny yours truly helped beget.
whereby subsequent paternal kinship
quickly generated enjoyment,
more so, I felt like the most important person
atop the tallest mountain in the world;
pink bundles of genetic webbing
sugar and spice and everything nice,
especially after bath time.

Nothing compared within magnitude
engendering, kindling, and rearing
offspring, which linkedin joie de vivre
jump/kick started when significant other
imparts swell pregnant news
and with expectant newborn
in the offing untold poignant surprises
awaited procreative crafter of these words.