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Julian Sep 2020
I famigerate without taciturn timidity the straits of a straightened jury-rig of nesiote narrowbacks harping the accordion zest and zeal of the plenilune consuetude of a scrivello infamy sprung into the rows of rip-tide acclaim hamstrung by the decline in fastidious upkeep of the timberlask vesicles that avoid the phenakism of prismatic reformation fundamental to transmogrified simpers of dismal saturnine darkness encroaching on the parallax of realms within the dominion of the Almighty for the omniety of the usucaption of the fruitful prune in the priggish afterglow of a noontide eclipse bereaved of whispering retreat in the hallowed wasms of stiltanimity becoming an entreaty to ecumenical barbs of propriety selected without intimacy to folksy bibliopolists but rugged in sterling tribute to the true vine of the appointed ways of sacerdotal triage among a roughshod vanity of a derelict world marveling at otiose rejoinder rather than true spasms of tragedy flickering in the recessive alleles of a careworn culture. The travesty of Beirut is the bromide of current leapfrogs of sentinel lust and malapert destruction forming an ironclad camaraderie with chocolate-box langlauf disasters wed uxoriously to the penury of the brackish version of the catadromous bailiwick of despotic nescience pregnant with sophrosyne redemption at the cusp of a plaid perfunctory quip of quisling intimations of the sketchy provenance of humdingers of comestion lurking in the plodding prowl of a ribald wiseacre of a beckoned billow of trinkochre welded into a conscientious blarney that awaits the popinjays that sculpt brittle redshort fictions into awakened carapaces of a limacine reduction of impoverished fulmination into the neatly sworn footprints of a geotaxis shuddering with magnetism only in spectacle without the overhailing zeal of vintners who specialize in curtailed wine drawn from Caiaphas and soaked with the muddy turgid Siloam as avenues toward the repentance of asunder becoming marginalized as a whimper of taciturn choleric war receding not even into an audible delope as the masterful chryselephantine assault of cryptic auditions in the theater of effete refuge sink into the pelagic oblivion of a remarkable blister festering into inconsequence as the rebarbative emoluments to tattered travesty hearken a battle-cry yet emanated in the reprehensible bulwark of the gerendum of a poised plastered humility aggrieved with such friction turgid on rollicking magpiety that even the larceny of brutish renegades of triumph sink beneath the brevity of accident rather than the fortitude of globalized turpitude weakened by the improper demarche of fuliginous homeless depredation of innocent bystanders flocking to the harvest of war found in insight rather than the perfunctory bromidrosis of the macroscian enmity of hidden maleficence spawning a credenda that is spayed on arrival in the faineant zoolatry of a spelunkers’ madcap dash to flex the filigrees of turmoil in resentment of the amicable truces of a God who never tempts and a lurking lie that never itches for trigger-happy hapless rebukes because the skittish skirmish of futilitarian repose is a scoundrel of the profligacy of errant weakness blinkered by the humdrum din of deafening semaphores of provocative thornbush on the threshing floor of cowardly imposture president of all affairs of spirit and all renegades of caitiff megalography of forgotten oblivion despite the curglaff of vindictive and never vindicated assaults on the integrity of the birthright of Lebanon to wager a presumptive gamble of trifling retribution for the alacrity of suspicions eloping with forbidden mistresses in the humdingers of flackey rather than the troudasque harbinger of a lunacy impugned by a restive triumphant fallow time seasonable for a litany of pretenses demassified for a liturgy of seances with eldritch commiseration in the saw-toothed serration of selachostomous bravado wielded by likely or unlikely culprits of ravenous ruin shepherded by the guilty cardinal sins of the complicity of explosive vanity marauding on the ruins of a fortress debased by pettifoggery of internal excuse rather than the wrath of provocative ire in the irksome cauterized wounds of the inured to deliver spectacular reticence despite such grievous diacope. Evil gilderoys of maleficence carve the sapwood of the periphery to aimless subversions miscarried by the modern atrocity of glamour memorialized as a sound-byte underminnow of a roaring rhombos rip tide as stocks wavy at the curvature of edgy demarche despoil the denuded wasteland of cultural despondency a wagtail to the impudence of famigerated affronts that deserve a sterling recompense wielded by the onerous and operose burdens of a prone decubitus of aboriginal bread seeded from Heavenly realms dissipating into the roars of blinded conflagration too meek to even exist on the ramshackle hillside of a barnstorm of aggression powerless to encapsulate the nexility of unspoken allegiance to destruction rather than the halidom of consecrated marriages balking at the caulked provisions of a slugabed monolith of craven capers on the recesses of abeyance in the interregnum of a time where famous people communicate with me. How can such a charismatic bravado of lurking presidency stoop to the denizens of usufruct in licentious latitudes on the outskirts of consideration even pretend anymore that the vacuum of effluvium (Gal 6:7) can be mocked and milked into the row of centuries blistering through the calenture of apprisal and heaved awakening as the zephyrs of the Occident meet temporal juncture with the coenesthesia of a hibernating trumpery formed by the turnverein of listless lethargy billowing through fumiducts of siphoned lavaderos of hypogeiody that the underground spasms of cacophony could marvel at the historic emergence of a magnate with the most powerful magnetism of God shepherding the true flock John 10:27 because he is willing to be the good shepherd and potentially die for his sheep John 10:11. Remember, whenever you hear a Queer Studies Radical Feminist bloviate on emasculated sardanapalian posture John 8:44 and even though personified as a masculine titan of bulwarks of immense otiose wilted inkburch shielding the world from true meaning, the maskirovka of the Devil is present in the dark trespasses of personal abandon among the wilderness of many marsupial jackals of martles wagtails to an invictive proclamation of invulnerable sappy sopanaceous filibusters against hefty sinew forged the bony fragments of the charnels lost to brief epitaphs never mourned in threnodies worthy of remembrance that the departed died with us and live again through us whether in Heaven as participant or on Earth as an acting battalion of the skullduggery of the mystique of shimmers of God acting on Man’s behalf 1 Col 1:15-16. That the firstborn of all creation obtains supremacy through the finalisms that I seek as the captain of trailblazing untrammeled roads we are reminded of the narrow and wide gates expanded by the explosion of thought that trespasses into the hidebound ratchet of a reasonable bleat becoming a harsh outcry of justice for Lebanon that they feel so powerless in implosion what could aggrieve potentate civilizations to the precipice of global maleficence in destruction. Swarming for alveolate hominid hominism as an outgrowth of alienation by design polarized spectral dangles at jaundice flamestun by the ordeal of oppositive barnacles to the chryselephantine habituation of a masked menace of Procrustean authority to muzzle the free license of armamentariums of a latent man keen to the kenspeckel visibilia that we might have punctuation in the poised primiparas of a hearkened unprecedented in modern history that the traipse of lapse is no longer the tenure of mindless calculation of authoritarian gabble sentries of a mobilized fleet of embodied human ignorance but a foisted sprite of whangams of apothegm that deserve in their gnomic respite from the phenakisms of a philogeant kumbaya assertive in its treony of radical compassion for those who dwell in tentpoles of revelry bound not to the covenant that sent us into light and sparkling in hidden obsolescence that the fulgurant words of Mount Horeb (Sinai) are both immaculate and without trace of sin because Acts 17:30 declares a powerful truth lost to the twinges of time that issued peremptory governance of my theology but through remission I admit the grievances of septiferous blockades of ponderous plodding nescience haunting the spectral aubades of paeans to a high-flown sun darting through galactic space apace of the velivolant sails of divine wind that come in the spree of recompense authored by the vines to which all roots belong rhizogenic and immutable because the demarches of time forget the marches against the cauterized grime of new-world suspicions of aleatory fickle gubernatorial proclamations that issue reverb more than sprinkle flanged atrocity in the sight of the holy ramparts of an active double-edged God who reminds us of our many witnesses but provides not a single latchkey of escapism resident to many hapless homes of the drunken sing-song rhapsody nullifying the psychotaxis of the motatory miserly Draconian charades of Leviathan grasping the tridents of warp-speed revisionism in a benighted world overrun by mandarist fictions that fumigate a pasteurized control of cultural malcontent in situations of dearth infested by the concentration camps of China that remain unheralded in brumal and brutish indoctrination spared from worldwide outrage by the tribunes that are complicit more in malfeasance than they are celebrated for the herald of heinous bletcherous crimes of abecedarian abligurition anointed in waste rather than refined like unquenched slakes of eternal water so that no man can thirst hungry for the daily bread without returning to the providence of God awakened. Recalcitrant by the impudent quislings of repugnasket flarmeys of advenient flummoxed besieged clairvoyance I bask and beaze on the light that never fades because of the brackish whisk of a barnstorm of allegiance that is contumely to a bromide society listless in inferiority of intellect to my former streaks beyond jejune reiteration of the Jehu mentality against the canine fate of Jezebel and her faltered ministry of ewnastique waged as battalion gore of a trifling musket of an aboriginal swim through the oceanic gaze of peerless eternity squirming because of flagging resolution among the spandrels of incommunicable largesse lolloped extravagantly not just for the spoils of hyped pedigree but also a chamade to Heaven to enlist the purblind vestiges of a crambazzled Earth rejuvenated in adolescent esprit rather than callow eclat against the outrecuidance of whimpered miserly conscientiousness that exists in a shorter frame of reference than the provident dashes through a furlough of time and ancestry to cobble together a lapidary bristling excoriation of the tumescent squabbles of mystique brave enough to rarefy the humid pasteurization of a mannequin kenspeckel still-frame jilt of jostled infamy brusque in its curt envies borne of still-born promenades of a whasper between the youthful ligony and the intrepid soul of a collective warrior debased by the adscititious participant to elegant effronteries of the newfangled intellectual vogue that is the grombang of the tralleyripped hamshackle of ostentation meeting mirrored paralysis in sheepish ewnastique creations meddlesome in their ironic frizz of recursion as I lounge on the habits of creation by intelligent lurches of design that appointed the demarcations of all creatures and the mysterious bridge between the missing links that remain elusive to the flombricks of the misery of epigenetic rhizogenic imparlance of desuetude cringing at foresight littered with the disaster of ravished hindsight blushing at the limpid degeneration of the vapid varnish of benighted ligony rather than heroic strides of stoic-epicurean compromise in the apolaustic pursuit of the one eternal God present in rebellion but never the temptress of mendacity and mendaciloquence because the tug I have on speed is ratifying a cauterized casualty in the spumid betrothed wicked snuffs of extinguished furor for a time beyond barnstormed racloir rugged origination and faulty phenogenesis that escorts mythos into actionable litanies of the awakened breed scoffing at the inkburch of “Electrolytes”-wernaggle that besets the queer fascinations of a warped generation. The pytherian swank of artrench embodied in the recocted rendevation of hypetrophy in hubris swaddled by the reductive dranger polluting the realm of compliant complicant complaints of the ashowel of albatross astroud in the hibernaculum of langlauf rather than the ultramontane fiduciary tether to the estrockentch rather than the laureates of plevisable courage found in truest shades of vinsky not the subhastation of a gaslighted galvanization of purebred classy swivels of opportunism nor the ravenous incubus appetite for usufruct in subversion belongs to the behest of an insular nesiote flexing the flux of subversion as the candid posies of saccharine immodesty become relegated figments of the everlasting age of promised propriety rather than rigid stultimathy of hackencrude virtues of virtuosos that marvel at troudasque wonders occluded by the girlcott of Team Biden and his militarized soldiers of desiccation of trumpery and the faucets unbounded by swanky concealed epithets of regaled rentgourge by a hapless objection of the runic destruction of apothecary leniency becoming of the betokened emblazonry of scrimshank in every perfuncturation but embodiment of character shouldered by every chasm of power erected in demolition of the warped egintoch radicalism of the submerged wernaggles of the hopeless minority swimming with autodimplage few have to bear but the truest flock of God heeds my voice and has the sapience to spare themselves of contumely and invective to hearsay of invictive triumph beyond radioglare swirk to renege the musical providence of the chamades to the asterongue I often take for granted by immunifacient degrees of the foretold encroaching upon the crux of a pivotal and pivoted destiny not distant from cordial providence. The sweedle of epigones for the risctender of obligation to subvert the coryphaeus with the rigmarole of gentincture borrowed from the Gates’ formulaic effleck of perverse warbles of collectivized contrition for abetted cultural pederasty limpid in its achieved objective of the crudenzy borrowed from a lacking impediment to arentrum belonging to the knowledgeable happenstance of the glorified dengonin is a denostram that forestalls the agelasts behind porsters of culture rather than legitimate mainlined contamination of wellsprings of fliction of paranoiac enthusiasm might swim in kinkativy blinkered blind piebald girouettism but never dauntless in sematic entrenchment of robust dilettantism as the swaddled corrugation of time into centripetal ****** against centrifugal modernism that alienates propriety while estranging by vacuous vacuums the outspoken progeny of the surviving age beyond the Jay and Silent Bob travesty that manifests as a glower of menacing Bushian invention to tarnish with ****** mythos the drapes of a defenestrated realism of the flinkers of sheepish indignation against many drakstings of intonorous sclerotic mandibles of crackjaw chockablock annihilation of core precepts and institutions indelible from the face of a quixotic entreaty of a ragged intrusion of ageotropic monoideism above the secular-clerical fidelity of honest witness borne of triumph and tribulation festooning the nativist hyperbole into a useless effigy of mountebank imposture silly in precision and purblind to gallantry. Yet I must kisswonk rather than truckle under such ponderous pretense because of a sertivine certainty in the thickets of prudence rather than the tomfoolery of humgruffin impudence scaffolds me to a post-modern ****** that shanks through prisons of guilt and burrows an interrogation of reality supreme over all complaint that the virtuosity of the Gifted (the elect flock that comprehends my volcanic diatribes against mandarism and stomachs them without sardonic pastorauling insults of passerby vicissitude) will spare many nations of awakened perjury against human instinct in the fitness of nations to denigrate the populist squalor of lurid and livid ewnastique wernaggles of the listless buttress against my formal modesty encouraged in all affairs even in aggrieved humility belonging to intimidation rather than spawned jostles through the rumpus of shunamitism that might rankle a later age.  Yentrified morality is a personal flapdoon against the promiscuous pederasty of freewheeling ophelimity and the lurking narquiddity of the traindeque of donnist hedonism to hijack my psychedelic tolerance into an unwarranted and inadvisable sanction into the netherworld of the frinterans of cultural modality that curdact religion into a cosmetic cosmogony rather than a soldiered infamy becoming a beacon on a towering hill growing in solidarity with the pleonasm of existence itself which surpasses crude formulas that already abide by the riches of decorum too much to be admired as trigger-happy fools run the asylum of domesticated irony and the librettos to downfall rather than the wassails of “The Man” becoming more masculine in featured charisma rather than defiled against Leviticus among others who preach belonging to nuclear creed without fission but for true rapprochement to the fusion of the treony with legitimate gripes of unsung complaint among the masculine minority. The traindeque of a baseline complaint aggrieved by the kilmarge carapace of stiltanimity for the hackencrude resentment of the inkburch of illiteracy is a profligate degeneracy lurid in hyped enmity that the envied entreaty becomes the despotic shadow masquerading in shadows blossoming into the full wisdom of the mature sophrosyne heart eager to pour out blessings upon a conservation of recycled epitaphs becoming hearsay in a rebarbative convolution of redacted rigmarole incendiary to whittled henpecks of political engineering but never vapid in their flagging insistence upon an ecumenical toleration of the brooks of modernity and compromise upon which much felicity is aggrandized and permuted against the spoilsport frinterans who encage a dodgy moralism in wilted etiolated jaunty pedigree that espouses the maudlin grievous and ghastly ghouls and sprites that haunt the fictional hobgoblins of the Potemkin Village that finds usury convenient and perjury even more facile for the glib facetious engineers of modalities of hatred unsung by the ribald witwanton “I got a Solution...You’re a ****…South Carolina What’s Up” crowd that never marvels at ingenuity or rarely attempts it in the summit of the climacteric jaundice of hidebound whemmles of ridicule sparring against spartan flagitious wiseacres of genocide of ideation for the revelry of armed missives denatured by raw promotion of the questionable ethics of a flavork of needed slakes of unquenchable desire swarming us with daily temptresses not of wayward women but the disarmed pretense of a lapidary rejoinder to a long expatiation or harangue against hackencrude curdles of rowboat injustice masquerading as sentinel savory destruction of the towering edifice of proclamation. There is great menace in the casuistry of sophist philogeant philocubists dicey with destiny for mincemeat puppetry against sciamachy for the gallionic rise of gammadions in the craven lore of baseline pasquinade rallied to the insuperable causes of tribal shibboleth anointed by secular totemisms of fracture and fricative hisses of lineage that amount to pleonasms of brassage rather than mystagogical mystique of the prestige of human fraternity that shatters paradigms of creed and invites an honest vestige of Noble Savages to roam the Earth yet again unencumbered by lugubrious welters of misnomer and malapropism wagered by artifices of guileless supremacy that is cursory prima facie neglect of even the sororal duties not of sophomoric glib facetious cowardice of backbited backlash of venom militarized for the desuetude of entertained visagists sculpting *****-nilly their version or verdict of decisive apartheid when we should all rally behind the united frontier of the chosen flock in the chosen generation to truckle beneath the pews not of ignorance aggravated by the polluted kilmarge egintoch puritan barbs against publicity choices I now regret (as an emolument to an incredibly euphoric track with a poor miserly message to the enchanted flock inoculated from such diversions) because alighted upon the quenched thirst of salvation I will be judged more harshly as a teacher James 3:1 than the rest of my flock but gifted with the gratuitous salvation carved from the chiselers of ribald infamy capering around with dacoitage and ladronism of the bomans of unsuspecting quixotic caprice I must reckon with the burden of ghoulish shadows on the spectral imprint of my eternal soul relishing in vicarious splendor yet bereaved of quintessential love 1 Cor 13:4 that is necessary for the nuclear conclamation of vibrant hues of resplendent and refulgent providence necessary not from a dynastic perspective but from an aimed providence that alerts dynamism rather than chides with mimes of useless schadenfreude carved from the prestidigitation of the wicked condemned in Galatians 6:7 for the mockers of sanctanimity accorded upon me as gratuity that no man can boast my elite ears and my astute wonderworks of imagination qualified me for prophecy and among the most mesmerizing prophecies registered to fulfillment that the world has ever yet witnessed because the watershed isn’t a bridgewater for the chavish of ignoramus hatred congealed into thrombosis but the narrowed gate enlarges to encompass the swath of man amenable to the flocks that escort me into permanence rather than regale the tridents of a hedonism that elected me clairvoyant at a cost of immaculate splendor registered to the holy clergy of the Sacred Catholic Church and the broader Ecumenical Endeavor that tries to be a seamstress and bridge elemental divides inherent to divided approaches to liturgy which flex their strengths in times of robust fortitude rather than become a subhastation to the vestiges of the pilgrimage to false tabernacles erected by people cozened into charlatan endeavors by the pernicious and persnickety whiplash of Least Common Denominator subversion of widely heralded sentience and sapience enriching the lot of human ambition rather than stoking useless conflagrations of refracturism accorded to the swallock of primposition of the hackneyed hackencrude that swivels with the odious ornery pretense of overtures not to apertures and lychgates of the true abiding Heaven felt on Earth by many Christians whether in sobriety or not without the evil maleficence of a misguided donnism of narquiddity for the grambazzles of aged recklessness aborning on vacant responsibility that is rickety in its magnanimity of absolution because of the ulterior chase for bottom-line top-dollar oligochrome foisted by the cartels that blind true spiritual insight from ever reaching the magnitude of ambition required to shape mountains of revolution among the tertiary squabbles of a conversant Earth open to the troudasque gallop into yield and cloveryield for repcrevel reforms the paludism of the swamp remains skittish about conforming to because objectivism is a renegade of perspicuous light blinkering in hubris and gourmandizing the hinderbaggle of cosmetic pollutions aggravated by the plevisable articles of envy and TLDR politics to “Electrolyte” logic that is a sad recursive wernaggle of the useless buffoonery of humgruffins of tatterdemalion spate rollicking in the magpiety of a timid consentient faltering myth of unanimity among the beleaguered rainbows of many lugubrious tears showering bickering blasphemy upon the mockery of God for the pleasantry of self-aware sheepish resignation that professes only that any form of meritocracy is existentially unfounded only because the beehive elected its progeny the scepter of the ironclad kingdom that wages war against idolatry and serenades heaven with luxury simultaneously. We are all shepherds of providence and there is power enough in collective prayer that we don’t fiddle around with bodewash in mistaken identity but riddle the persnickety blemish of the fastidious critiques of biting sarcasm as a tantamount blasphemy and a criminal repartee of sardonic cloys of inanity foisted above truth. The peevish breedbates who scour my evidentiary pillar of chiseled vertebrae of unbroken bones of solidarity with oikonisus will be sorely disappointed in their truthful audits of my true perception because in every single case it exonerates me from the pulpit of menacing idiots who scrawl random gabble in attempts to sound smart while reeking of iniquity wrought by the gavels of predevoted inferiority of complexion and attitude that gravitates them to an insensate benumbed transmogrified bailiwick of an appalling atrocity of mythomaniacal myths spurned by consensus among those who prize my grandeur above the superstitions of the illiteracy of the rancid rankle of otiose stupidity writhing its own sheepish envy of arbitrary dislike motivated by feminist aggressors waging warfare on turf I already conquered by swaying the intelligentsia to beckon my cause rather than pillory me on a false scaffold of frinteran abuses of the nyejays of bernacle that junediggle in the taradiddle of the nanciful excoriation of my leaden corpse weighed down by the witchcraft of connivance trayning its own delicate myths while avoiding scrutiny for appalling contumely that deserves an audience more suited for fracklings of treony belonging to the trinkochre of the rising alienation and suicides among perverted gay indoctrination that is a scourge on the planet because it willfully denies with its portentous hibbles the regaled wisdom of the culminated age against renegades of apostasy and for the behemoths of true monumental change that sizzles in savory circles among the vanguard only to alarm the Status Quo hijack of my entire endeavors as a covert crusade to use wrecking-ball fashion tactics to cosmetically incisively and insidiously perform a harprick of surgery upon a blameless countenance only for being a thorn to wragatek wragapole slavery which wages war against universal salvation because it gripes with inkburch and circular pleonasms about the most obvious glaring lies and feasts upon the serrated edge of the capers of hatred that frolic in meadows too skittish to enter the barbarian fortress of my forested residence robust in fortitude and glowering with a menacing contempt for runaround psychobabble that obganiates the obelisk of the moribund crusade to make normative ethics effeminate and to enthrone inviolable women’s speech as supreme to any male objections like the Cristiano Ronaldo accuser that came forth 8 months after #MeToo one of the most dishonest campaigns in modern history enthroned by Hollywood elites in gammerstang insurrection against pay-gap ethics done manipulatively with the sapwood of mendaciloquence like Blasey Ford whose physiognomy reeked of maudlin pretense that was so ornery in how obvious of a maleficence the intrepid Abortion Agenda has over the minds of selfish women who prefer ecbolic second-term abortions to the servile gripes of primiparas building new life rather than tearing down the scaffolds of new generations. Hominism deserves its rise because-in increasing numbers-men are derelicted by society and coerced into vapid tallespin enslavement that ridicules itself with the perjury of soul to the soulless vanity of recursive cycles of benumbed narquiddity found in “****** Hero” among other atrocities littering the human fascination with the hinderbaggle of our polluted age verging on totemic blistering hegemony of a few rotten apples corrupting the vagrant ingenuity of the forgotten champion who ushered in a new era of candor in the attempted interregnum of the United States government because I Am Hollywood got the name correct considering how many memorials there are to me in the movie industry. The junediggles of sc-ha-den-freud-e which is as deliberate of a German pun as JUDEn JuDEN which shows the German language is as farsighted as you can get and why many of my neologisms have a German tinge to them. German is an elegant language with botched syntax but a peerless repertoire of vocabulary and even though I love French, the Germans are smart because their language is smart not just because of petty arguments of pedigree which are specious at best. Being dontolesque with  the zenkidu of rengall nauclatic mythos is an artful degree which accords nominal prestige to licentiates while excorifying the obvious metaphors of sunblind logic that scours the scorched Earth of internet diatribes of sophistry and dethrones the Marcie Biancos of the world “Heterosexuality is officially OVER...K Bye” with her 145 IQ and a Stanford Degree in Queer Studies (A professed atheist by her own Twitter admission) with the warped logic to equate a heterosexual relationship for a woman as ******* to patriarchy. For someone that well-studied in literature she sure is a dumb-*** and I will demolish the syntagma of those that root against me for Status Quo preservation in the official interregnum of Saturdays during the Trump Presidency. We need an official referendum on the ideas of termagant illogical anti-egalitarian poison that derives from a deracinated worldview that doesn’t contextualize how powerful language is at shaping thought because if the entire world were Anglophonic every single country on Earth virtually would see immediate dividends in terms of intellectual creativity and limber with concepts and percepts because it is no accident the most successful empire in History the United Kingdom, was favored because of its shibboleths of Shakespearean creativity draped with flairs of the irreverent while gilded by God to be a majestic commonwealth. England and France monopolized a huge majority of history by no accident because although English might be a slightly keener language the French culture of salons of freewheeling intellectual enlightenment gilded the 17th and 18th centuries into absolution despite the Panglossian epithets of Voltaire who was ironically dissuaded from religion because of the All Saints Day 1755 Lisbon Earthquake and Tsunami. We need to be vigilant against encroachments of perceived shibboleths and more keen on an affirmative meritocracy that favors the poor and blesses the meek in their poverty and inspire ambition among them to join the coteries of refinement in thought sometimes harder to achieve with crackjaw lollops in pleonasmic languages that fail to articulate with nexility or forceful wit the true abstractions that govern the pataphysics of the unknown. Language is so decisive over human thought that it is incumbent upon every language to refine its vocabulary to trayne compendious verbiage and trim the hedges of global reform to invite the curiosity of the age to favor all creeds and languages of Abraham and the diverse progeny of a variegated panoply of majestic feats common to all parlance and capacity beyond just the Anglophonic snare because the world needs not a chicanery of blustering churlish buffoonery but an Almighty respect for the consanguinity of all to God’s blessed creation that he inseminated by his deliberate hands to enrich the world with diversity rather than cleave the world with piecemeal skeumorphs of radical propaganda that opposes the modern and post-modern egalitarian streak. One wrong must be corrected, however, the underrepresentation of Hispanics in the media and in film because this grave error is much more pervasive than the ******* LGBT inclusion narrative because these days the lollygags of fashionista odalisques with Obelisks to Baal get more say over the common decorum than the marginalized bronteum of the  rich and vibrant Latino culture which is squelched by the poverty of media and Hollywood representation. Synectics showcases how a henpecked aim at the synaesthesis of culture congregated around our Almighty Father blessed among the nations who adhere to the progeny of Abraham can be more blessed when working together rather than tribal with nepotism and aristocratic in sustained affronts to the elevation of affirmative meritocracy to the forefront of discussion rather than the froward backlash of benumbed narquiddity because the synallagamatic nature of complexity needs to be devolved with industrious ambition to all cultures and the savory flair of the vogue needs not merely a wednongue fascination with an eventual terminus of crudenzy but a sustained intellectual reformation on all fronts to standardize the English language through Hollywood and the Music Industry so that the dragnets of appeal etch a permanent trace into the engraved souls of the true flock John 10:27 are consecrated in divine purpose to reverse the Babylonian Diaspora of confused and conflated purpose that stunts the raltention of humane course and the proper pataphysical syncrisis of an evolved mundane temperament that transcends the circular traps of circumlocution common to the milquetoast industrial titans who winsomely charm with toady gestures the elitism of a moribund philosophy of intellectual thought delegation to elevate the common rhetoric to reach new pinnacles in both tribune and political gamesmanship because higher standards are required even when they surpass some common understanding so that every ambition becomes a conclave for the goal of human unity solidified by the truth of the kerygma and proclaimed to all creation as the culminated synclastic reformation of the idea of indulgence and the propriety of regaled moderation that appeases the common decorum with a shared vested interest in Latin America especially which is besieged by the cultural tenets of obrogated specialization and denigrated by the common myths of warped phenogenesis which should be debunked as a wasm of hypocrisy limited because its callous tentacles lack the charismatic fulgurant equipment of future generations to bear the operose burdens of a quintessential time of harmony united by the hymns for God by God to appease the sentries in Heaven and the celestial realms that exist for our merriment more than our detriment. The sprauncy have the  frikmag to recognize the spuria of apocryphal heresies that encourage kinship above matriotism and shared fortitude for intellectual valor rather than “*** talk TLDR” hashtags abounding on the turf of the insensate wernaggle of clueless charlatans wiggling through life not because they were borne into slavery but because they choose to be Helicopter Parents of “Baby Shark” rather than token mantelpieces of enlivened culture shimmering with radiation of Gods glory as cemented in Colossians 1:15-16 because the firstborn of all creation lives in some form in the ligature of Christ 1 Cor 12:12 because there are so many talents that exist in our variegated world that the mastery of expertise in dominions of conversant fluency will abet the variegated crops of a draped humanity corrugated on its own ironies for the delicate sizzle of beatific felicity multiplying itself in centupled design over centuries to overcome hinderbaggle while realizing the fictions of some drawflark. The strigine world concedes to this upstart rooster maybe considered a parvenu of dearth but luxuriant in riches boundless to all that draw near to the kerygma of Christ and feast on his daily bread found throughout liturgy because we should listen to people like Cardinal Timothy Dolan who is exceptionally astute (perhaps an understatement) to guide us on a regenerative rather than degenerative pathway towards universal attempts at salvation that broach a new decorum bridged by aliens to select chosen emissaries to bridle the fissions of repartee reserved for the forlorn that balk at ambition rather than relish a new era of seditious determination against the determinist fallacy and for the mental health of those coping with autodimplage and sheepish regrets and persnickety articles of remorse because all the world deserves our consolation and desperate attention rather than the trumpery of the circus masquerade of marauding agitprop which congeals into thrombosis of toxicity as the vast majority of Democrats refuse to even hear Trump speak when he is discussing discursive solutions to enigmatic quagmires,for, if more people listened to Trump they would be disabused by the specious claims of his misogyny and white allegiances because his candor is brilliant and despite the prominent advocacy of Biden who has considerable prestige in my memory, we deserve a bipartisan syncretism that unites the world and unifies the country away from the swerve of salacious mythos and towards a rambunctious magpiety of solidarity against the secular humanism of a defunct piety to Marxist feminism which is a crudenzy among the awakened men around the world increasingly alienated by the hackencrude of wednongue illiteracy even trumpeted by the vanguard as panacea when it is a comestible form of poison. We need visionary unity where there was once toxic divisive balkanization of exclaves of limited foresight clashing with new wave awakening to the persecution of illumination itself for not a rigid hierarchy but a flexible structure of inclusion that adjusts to cultural expectancy and modifies the traindeque that strands many in institutionalized poverty especially in Latin America and India and obviously Africa too. The stegophilists of language should herald the aubade of the chavish of redintegration over the squawk of din of squabbles of internecine redacted revisionism beleaguering our lyceums with toxic agitprop even at the highest institutions of learning who balk often at the recycled auditorium of useful thought because their venal tilt is complicit in squelching freedom of thought and our schools should open early so that zig-zag-zoom politics around feldtrounds who are eagerly outnumbered by the patrons who police thought become agentic not with outspoken treacheries but inseminations of intimation to hint at the spectral mystagogical reality we are all members of despite hurdles that beset the hemiteries of odalisques who seek inertia rather than mobilization. The ribald underminnow of transparency is a carcinogen of the rampant siege of Status Quo coarse hypocrisy for tentative flings with cadged cloyed saturnine professions of the landmines of atrocious miscarriage as I soldier on in the causes of the poor and the forlorn to become enriched by the glory that God delivers with munificence so that all might be enriched by the emanations of the true vine and in distaste of error I rebuke the armada of belittled armamentariums of the cantonment of deep-state breedbates boiling over potboiler frikmag that exists as a transcendent obscurantism flowering in decisive times to warp the contextual footprint of a life served in the service of all the oppressed people as a kind of Moses figure raised by the elite and fighting for the criminally oppressed and the ****** of mediagenic hyperbole is dissatisfied by my glowering spectacles because they dismount from the equipoise of the righteous gallop towards ecumenical solidarity at untimely punctuations of juncture superseding the flictions of frikmag dethroning my righteous valor and provident sanctanimity to prowl like predatory wolves the fathers of the casuistry of mendaciloquence to accentuate the stridor of inopportune squalor of the selachostomous regimes of teetotaler totalitarian freebooters who prevent bootstraps from manufacture as they gradgrind the world into ergonomic insufficiency while I provide a Kamacho-like galvanization to the broader world that favors the consanguinity of all animate sentience to the aboriginal vine of the universe that plays with the toyed cadge of oppositive support but lends credence to a more evolved view than the crudity of encapsulated travesties inserted with jaundice against the lyceum of freedom of thought and the celerity of headless horseman galloping in partial interregnum to crown the strobic stridor of the stiver of the steven of contarianism engineered for walloped ringleaders of the renegades of heresiarch sedition in their odalisque oaths to Pagan dieties carved from the sapwood of gullible Illuminati naivety that professes allegiance to the worst whangam ever invented Baphomet and his faked cronies of ewnastique free-for-all diminutive crags in the renown of dawning light becoming cagey struthious structuralism embedded in sclerotic wasms of the wanhope of a nullified message becoming a sacred creed to the attentive while the lilt of the otiose drawl in serpentine convolution a ribald pleonasm of circular circumlocution that provides locomotive linearity rather than leapfrogged slogmarches into the province of the territorial alignment of kinship against the partisan hollertrap and the stigmatophilia of obsessive persnickety popinjay beadledom the last stronghold of the rickety resistence to this Saturday interregnum which presides over the better part of the intelligentsia if not the common pedestrian parlance because hortatory weights cannot be described in any other way than metagnostic flickers of Yellow Submarine vandalism of a pristine living animation of the humane spirit that prizes the plight of the poor and the blarney and blench of unjust opprobrium faced by the institutionalized bailiwick of flictions of gammadion gallionic posture when in fact they register as seismic entities engraved upon my Christian conscience that strictly welcomes the emigrants to truth from whatever consecrated virtue they originate from because all are capable of the same light and the same compassion of a beatified humanity rather than the relish of deep-state castophrenia which belies its own ribald gay mockery on live TV as not a single twinge of ****** attraction overtakes me in matriotic sardanapalian effrontery of a hollow but sadly hallowed vainglory of the hierodules that bury the coffers of patriotism in a sad LGBTQ graveyard of landmines that demonstrate a complete disregard of the nuclear family and should be decried as an outcry against redefined Christianity bolted to unshakable irrefragable beliefs in the constitution of man and women wed together in one monogamous flesh with the occasional cuddle of close tithes to the ******* of friendship as the slavery of sin in Leviticus 20:13 falls to the wayside because this patriotic lewdness is a vapid fatuous derangement that is a new low for the United States attempt to inoculate China from religious accord with the broader world and should be seen as a Chinese maskirovka worthy of the heaviest disdain and I will disavow America if it continues to bandy the tripwires of Chinese boondoggles under the American banner and pretend its pretense isn’t lagging under its own bletcherous abecedarian elementary fallacy of psychobabble oblivion of dark saturnine brusque termagants of tatterdemalion cloaks of the selfsame illusion of a desperation of China to wreck the United States economy and inseminate Florida, Arizona and Texas especially with the Coronavirus to swing the election in Biden’s favor with or without US Complicity to expedite the course of a virus which sees no resurgence in any other civilized country in the world while the heroic Russians, Germans, Israelis, French, British and true American Christians banish the barristers of bad taste as an acerbic poison on the wellsprings of a flagitious flag I would kneel for in the knells of disgrace if the pompous and completely inoculated missives of Buttigieg ******* continue to roam shepherded by deep state elitism to wreck the opportune moment of religious revival for petty reasons of chryselephantine gambit and gimcrack for institutionalized poverty which my ambition is to heal completely by sacerdotal deeds and consecrated prayers in the Lord whose peace surpasses the temporal despair of senectitude and comforts the grievances of the aggrieved because Galatians 6:7 is no more true than the fatuous display of muscular idiots waving American flags for turpitude rather than flogging very perverse Gay men in the streets which might be a more fitting outcome even though I must remove the plank in my own eyes first to see the irony of the detested. The doytin is no longer misguided by the nanciful derision of the vociferous clangor of the venal Gates mafia militia wrecking ball vaccination Bezos crew in Medina which is a mettle I can’t match when you own every citizen in the world in a few square miles of nesiote territory the denizens of conquest besieging religious sanctity with profane outbursts of corruptible linchpins on the public lynch of the strepsis of periblebsis that vitiates commonwealths of supreme sputtering regimented clairvoyant superlative alabaster wealth of the isangelous protectorate of the supreme God that supervises his careworn flock into the storge against the scourge of prosodemic stigma stained in bleeding heart liberal bathed tears of pseudoautochiria of Jim Morrison glaring in the face of the triads that Killed Him in the French Connection ******* of 71’ that outnumbered his hobohemia of loyal jewish bohemians livid in the rhapsody of nurture rather than enfeebled by the unfurled destiny of the Soul Kitchen he foresaw to his own pitiable demise at probably the hands of strangulation because no autopsy was performed. Although repetitive Transparent is a real anthem for oracular mystagogical transcendence a mandatory hymn for the ryseolagnus of the poetic verve of a new wave swooning the cordial progressive of atmospheric oneness with the primordial vine and the vintners that congregate on populated soil to feed a desolate destitution of synoecy or synaesthesis in the syncretic rhapsody of the subfocal ageotropic plenilune yet saturnine lugubrious toil of those that shovel through the albatross of ewnastique recapitulation to the same tired “Its got what plants crave, it’s got electrolytes” wernaggle of the hopelessly dismal inkburch of illiteracy crawling like a Hyacinth House on a vacant graveyard turf guarding the legionaires of rapid-fire zig-zags through a serpentine curvature of the ligaments of fabricated space warped through prismatic lenses of aperspectival time aspiring for ventriloquial enamored rapture upon Earthly parallax with tapestries of refulgent cascading wandering wonder that meditates its own lucubration with careworn tutelage against the wasms of dying oleaginous swelters of redshort opportunistic vultures swooping with Raven’s claws against the odometer of viewership surpassing records in unspeakable wisdom that crowds out the crambazzle toonardical wreffelaxity of the tiresome nuisance of ornery brawn muscled into a formidable triage in vengeance for Jim Morrison’s scripted eviction from Earth either by poisoned ****** or by  Asphyxiation by the French Connection avenging RFK and the cultural revolutions of 67’ in Haight Ashbury and the widespread percolation of treacheries fathomed to the most obvious degree in showmanship that it bristled as an affront so severe that even the patronage of Paris wasn’t immune to infiltration. His threnodies will always be sung with Triumph that the hallowed day of a monumental soul eluding the darkness of purgatory into the welcoming aborning light of the noontide progeny of eternal ataraxia awaited him in the stagecraft tub of blasphemy bellowing ratcheted warnings that not even the palatine grasp of a potentially divine being was inoculated from the deep dark chasm of nefarious skullduggery for boasting so widely and openly of his professed foresight to glamorous to be hidden as the beacon of virtuosity that galvanized a generation to flout the  futtocks of a keelhauled vision of sanitized purblind mortality that the fear of death rarely crossed the mind of the greatest fearless poet of an entire epoch that we may pray that Jim Morrison feasts in Heaven atoned for his sins and is at peace with God now. The substratose congeniality of marginalia on the outskirts of pederasty in cultural miscarriage owned by hierodules boundless in their lurid debaucheries that they might be remanded for being custodians of hostage to a prolific nescience  reaffirming their dying posture in the extinction of sardanapalian coverthrow of repcrevel camorras of ladronism and dacoitage always cauponate in imbibed throes of lewd AstroTurf outrecuidance glowering at sanctity with a bereaved psychobabble divorced from the purebred empiricism of true giants of industry that are almost insuperable in their extortion that their darkness in deeds of Kobe Bryants assassination do not go unpunished at least in Los Angeles. His untimely death as with many others registered on the Richter Scale because Come Clean perverts from Kansas City wanted San Francisco to win to clean the mops of janitorial revenge of the subturbary rickety foundations of a flailing moral compass so wicked in arbitrage that no subreption undetected would flourish among capernoited vigilantes of poached titanism and illuminism scarring the vestiges of enigmatic encroachment upon untouchables daring the frights of the Living Daylights of scurrilous rebukes so scathing in their menacing depiction of negligent bromides of token sacrilege and scarred sacrifice of a scarecrow example of how the prosodemic scourge of befuddled turgid pristine transmogrified heralds scampered away with pseudoautochiria that afflicted Jimi Hendrix suspiciously as well. My support is behind the justice warriors aggrieved by the Beirut explosion because they deserve a vindictive outcome that quells the quislings of atrocity of the popinjay beadledom of the unspeakable tremors of seismotic popples of unrest warranted in Lebanon the homeland of Keanu Reeves a saint among men for his peerless grace and agraceries of the smog of myth evanescence becoming perdurable swings of the humdingers of berated jaundice becoming the prerogative of the revenge of a city leveled to the ground by suspicious skullduggery and I am surprised they lay dormant for this long in their protracted grievance over the ghoulish frights of one of the most unheralded major events in recent memory. We need to highlight the plight of Lebanon so that world leaders are frightened even of intimidated people tranquilized by terror rather than enlivened by the propriety of redacted rejoinders that serve the ulterior mission of a Titanic bravery that never sinks beneath the sumptuary treacle of grombang grambazzle and supercherie of the supercalendar of poignant repined repose derailing an emolument to ecumenical solidarity. Lets highlight Lebanon as an inexcusable trespass worthy of some mighty reckoning if not a riveted war but at the very least a devastated twinge of outrage.
Styles 12 Aug 2018


secrets at dusk
tasted vigorous as
Coltrane blues

in a smokey nightclub
under mysterious saxophone seas

this style is not my own
but it helps me swim better

I decided to adopt it
curious why it tugs ruthless
on spit fire sleeves

deliciously drowning me free.




forest moons at night

help you drop it all
bags of unwanted programs
flung from broken chimneys

violet threads pass perfect
through kitchen chipped glass

moth wings burning summer up
like her eyelash fluttering innocently on some other guy's cheek

shattering divisions snag
on moonlight betrayal dance

enormous sea hooks chop in
helpless lips seduced
mad quicksilver rush

reserve this room for my only friend

we have private letters to write
on a future night when
god dreams come true.

This is for you.





My only friend.


What weighs heavy is certain light
how it pierces
through troubled waters.

A million traces of faces
lit up in every beam.

One night I felt it bleed through me
using rivers of sun-fire screams.

Volcanic poetry spoke without a sound.

Jim Morrison breaking through doors
under spells of hypnotic waves
wild vibrant shimmering
on multi-colored sheets.

This style is not my own
but it helped me lava streak
across bitter shores.




Now,

my voice strays away.

Gone hunting

a broken well voice
picked up by an old cracked bucket
leaking simple worded wishes

deciding to voluntarily borrow her
stolen forest eyes.

I heard them speak translucent leaf
on a summer day
when clairvoyant kids
heard God speak

on pathways of brilliant blue lake

when sunshine
whispered us
in scintillating ripples

right before our astounded,
washed feet.




I am dripping funeral summer sweat
under tombstone studded trees

smiling while choking in
liquid clouded dark.

Alone but not alone.

Mighty Ghosts of heaven
holding my head up

making sure the Nile
doesn't gush out while
I still cannot even write or speak

turn my notebooks into confetti
nothing describes this mysterious sea

a new species of saxophone waves
has belted its killer wonderland
sound out across an entire broken stage.


*

I can picture us
walking barefoot
on star contacted sand

gazing out
under champion chandelier wonders

walking on Texas Lightning storm colors
bellies full on Rumi soul food

our secret flames
burning up
plastic playgrounds

violating propriety
on some nuclear guarded beach

schools of fish cut
by saxophone hooked seas

blasted by vaults of unwrapped poems
someone else wrote perfect
in our dreams

we hope one day
the unpredictable silence
of simple worded wishes

will help us

extravagantly bloom
new spring leaves
rain stamped on tender delicious works

after winter is done
savagely wishing us dead
we are touched by other worlds.
https://youtu.be/6xcwt9mSbYE

For Drew
IV. TO HERMES (582 lines)

(ll. 1-29) Muse, sing of Hermes, the son of Zeus and Maia, lord
of Cyllene and Arcadia rich in flocks, the luck-bringing
messenger of the immortals whom Maia bare, the rich-tressed
nymph, when she was joined in love with Zeus, -- a shy goddess,
for she avoided the company of the blessed gods, and lived within
a deep, shady cave.  There the son of Cronos used to lie with the
rich-tressed nymph, unseen by deathless gods and mortal men, at
dead of night while sweet sleep should hold white-armed Hera
fast.  And when the purpose of great Zeus was fixed in heaven,
she was delivered and a notable thing was come to pass.  For then
she bare a son, of many shifts, blandly cunning, a robber, a
cattle driver, a bringer of dreams, a watcher by night, a thief
at the gates, one who was soon to show forth wonderful deeds
among the deathless gods.  Born with the dawning, at mid-day he
played on the lyre, and in the evening he stole the cattle of
far-shooting Apollo on the fourth day of the month; for on that
day queenly Maia bare him.  So soon as he had leaped from his
mother's heavenly womb, he lay not long waiting in his holy
cradle, but he sprang up and sought the oxen of Apollo.  But as
he stepped over the threshold of the high-roofed cave, he found a
tortoise there and gained endless delight.  For it was Hermes who
first made the tortoise a singer.  The creature fell in his way
at the courtyard gate, where it was feeding on the rich grass
before the dwelling, waddling along.  When be saw it, the luck-
bringing son of Zeus laughed and said:

(ll. 30-38) 'An omen of great luck for me so soon!  I do not
slight it.  Hail, comrade of the feast, lovely in shape, sounding
at the dance!  With joy I meet you!  Where got you that rich gaud
for covering, that spangled shell -- a tortoise living in the
mountains?  But I will take and carry you within: you shall help
me and I will do you no disgrace, though first of all you must
profit me.  It is better to be at home: harm may come out of
doors.  Living, you shall be a spell against mischievous
witchcraft (13); but if you die, then you shall make sweetest
song.

(ll. 39-61) Thus speaking, he took up the tortoise in both hands
and went back into the house carrying his charming toy.  Then he
cut off its limbs and scooped out the marrow of the mountain-
tortoise with a scoop of grey iron.  As a swift thought darts
through the heart of a man when thronging cares haunt him, or as
bright glances flash from the eye, so glorious Hermes planned
both thought and deed at once.  He cut stalks of reed to measure
and fixed them, fastening their ends across the back and through
the shell of the tortoise, and then stretched ox hide all over it
by his skill.  Also he put in the horns and fitted a cross-piece
upon the two of them, and stretched seven strings of sheep-gut.
But when he had made it he proved each string in turn with the
key, as he held the lovely thing.  At the touch of his hand it
sounded marvellously; and, as he tried it, the god sang sweet
random snatches, even as youths bandy taunts at festivals.  He
sang of Zeus the son of Cronos and neat-shod Maia, the converse
which they had before in the comradeship of love, telling all the
glorious tale of his own begetting.  He celebrated, too, the
handmaids of the nymph, and her bright home, and the tripods all
about the house, and the abundant cauldrons.

(ll. 62-67) But while he was singing of all these, his heart was
bent on other matters.  And he took the hollow lyre and laid it
in his sacred cradle, and sprang from the sweet-smelling hall to
a watch-place, pondering sheet trickery in his heart -- deeds
such as knavish folk pursue in the dark night-time; for he longed
to taste flesh.

(ll. 68-86) The Sun was going down beneath the earth towards
Ocean with his horses and chariot when Hermes came hurrying to
the shadowy mountains of Pieria, where the divine cattle of the
blessed gods had their steads and grazed the pleasant, unmown
meadows.  Of these the Son of Maia, the sharp-eyed slayer of
Argus then cut off from the herd fifty loud-lowing kine, and
drove them straggling-wise across a sandy place, turning their
hoof-prints aside.  Also, he bethought him of a crafty ruse and
reversed the marks of their hoofs, making the front behind and
the hind before, while he himself walked the other way (14).
Then he wove sandals with wicker-work by the sand of the sea,
wonderful things, unthought of, unimagined; for he mixed together
tamarisk and myrtle-twigs, fastening together an armful of their
fresh, young wood, and tied them, leaves and all securely under
his feet as light sandals.  The brushwood the glorious Slayer of
Argus plucked in Pieria as he was preparing for his journey,
making shift (15) as one making haste for a long journey.

(ll. 87-89) But an old man tilling his flowering vineyard saw him
as he was hurrying down the plain through grassy Onchestus.  So
the Son of Maia began and said to him:

(ll. 90-93) 'Old man, digging about your vines with bowed
shoulders, surely you shall have much wine when all these bear
fruit, if you obey me and strictly remember not to have seen what
you have seen, and not to have heard what you have heard, and to
keep silent when nothing of your own is harmed.'

(ll. 94-114) When he had said this much, he hurried the strong
cattle on together: through many shadowy mountains and echoing
gorges and flowery plains glorious Hermes drove them.  And now
the divine night, his dark ally, was mostly passed, and dawn that
sets folk to work was quickly coming on, while bright Selene,
daughter of the lord Pallas, Megamedes' son, had just climbed her
watch-post, when the strong Son of Zeus drove the wide-browed
cattle of Phoebus Apollo to the river Alpheus.  And they came
unwearied to the high-roofed byres and the drinking-troughs that
were before the noble meadow.  Then, after he had well-fed the
loud-bellowing cattle with fodder and driven them into the byre,
close-packed and chewing lotus and began to seek the art of fire.

He chose a stout laurel branch and trimmed it with the knife....
((LACUNA)) (16)
....held firmly in his hand: and the hot smoke rose up.  For it
was Hermes who first invented fire-sticks and fire.  Next he took
many dried sticks and piled them thick and plenty in a sunken
trench: and flame began to glow, spreading afar the blast of
fierce-burning fire.

(ll. 115-137) And while the strength of glorious Hephaestus was
beginning to kindle the fire, he dragged out two lowing, horned
cows close to the fire; for great strength was with him.  He
threw them both panting upon their backs on the ground, and
rolled them on their sides, bending their necks over (17), and
pierced their vital chord.  Then he went on from task to task:
first he cut up the rich, fatted meat, and pierced it with wooden
spits, and roasted flesh and the honourable chine and the paunch
full of dark blood all together.  He laid them there upon the
ground, and spread out the hides on a rugged rock: and so they
are still there many ages afterwards, a long, long time after all
this, and are continually (18).  Next glad-hearted Hermes dragged
the rich meats he had prepared and put them on a smooth, flat
stone, and divided them into twelve portions distributed by lot,
making each portion wholly honourable.  Then glorious Hermes
longed for the sacrificial meat, for the sweet savour wearied
him, god though he was; nevertheless his proud heart was not
prevailed upon to devour the flesh, although he greatly desired
(19).  But he put away the fat and all the flesh in the high-
roofed byre, placing them high up to be a token of his youthful
theft.  And after that he gathered dry sticks and utterly
destroyed with fire all the hoofs and all the heads.

(ll. 138-154) And when the god had duly finished all, he threw
his sandals into deep-eddying Alpheus, and quenched the embers,
covering the black ashes with sand, and so spent the night while
Selene's soft light shone down.  Then the god went straight back
again at dawn to the bright crests of Cyllene, and no one met him
on the long journey either of the blessed gods or mortal men, nor
did any dog bark.  And luck-bringing Hermes, the son of Zeus,
passed edgeways through the key-hole of the hall like the autumn
breeze, even as mist: straight through the cave he went and came
to the rich inner chamber, walking softly, and making no noise as
one might upon the floor.  Then glorious Hermes went hurriedly to
his cradle, wrapping his swaddling clothes about his shoulders as
though he were a feeble babe, and lay playing with the covering
about his knees; but at his left hand he kept close his sweet
lyre.

(ll. 155-161) But the god did not pass unseen by the goddess his
mother; but she said to him: 'How now, you rogue!  Whence come
you back so at night-time, you that wear shamelessness as a
garment?  And now I surely believe the son of Leto will soon have
you forth out of doors with unbreakable cords about your ribs, or
you will live a rogue's life in the glens robbing by whiles.  Go
to, then; your father got you to be a great worry to mortal men
and deathless gods.'

(ll. 162-181) Then Hermes answered her with crafty words:
'Mother, why do you seek to frighten me like a feeble child whose
heart knows few words of blame, a fearful babe that fears its
mother's scolding?  Nay, but I will try whatever plan is best,
and so feed myself and you continually.  We will not be content
to remain here, as you bid, alone of all the gods unfee'd with
offerings and prayers.  Better to live in fellowship with the
deathless gods continually, rich, wealthy, and enjoying stories
of grain, than to sit always in a gloomy cave: and, as regards
honour, I too will enter upon the rite that Apollo has.  If my
father will not give it to me, I will seek -- and I am able -- to
be a prince of robbers.  And if Leto's most glorious son shall
seek me out, I think another and a greater loss will befall him.
For I will go to Pytho to break into his great house, and will
plunder therefrom splendid tripods, and cauldrons, and gold, and
plenty of bright iron, and much apparel; and you shall see it if
you will.'

(ll. 182-189) With such words they spoke together, the son of
Zeus who holds the aegis, and the lady Maia.  Now Eros the early
born was rising from deep-flowing Ocean, bringing light to men,
when Apollo, as he went, came to Onchestus, the lovely grove and
sacred place of the loud-roaring Holder of the Earth.  There he
found an old man grazing his beast along the pathway from his
court-yard fence, and the all-glorious Son of Leto began and said
to him.

(ll. 190-200) 'Old man, weeder (20) of grassy Onchestus, I am
come here from Pieria seeking cattle, cows all of them, all with
curving horns, from my herd.  The black bull was grazing alone
away from the rest, but fierce-eyed hounds followed the cows,
four of them, all of one mind, like men.  These were left behind,
the dogs and the bull -- which is great marvel; but the cows
strayed out of the soft meadow, away from the pasture when the
sun was just going down.  Now tell me this, old man born long
ago: have you seen one passing along behind those cows?'

(ll. 201-211) Then the old man answered him and said: 'My son, it
is hard to tell all that one's eyes see; for many wayfarers pass
to and fro this way, some bent on much evil, and some on good: it
is difficult to know each one.  However, I was digging about my
plot of vineyard all day long until the sun went down, and I
thought, good sir, but I do not know for certain, that I marked a
child, whoever the child was, that followed long-horned cattle --
an infant who had a staff and kept walking from side to side: he
was driving them backwards way, with their heads toward him.'

(ll. 212-218) So said the old man.  And when Apollo heard this
report, he went yet more quickly on his way, and presently,
seeing a long-winged bird, he knew at once by that omen that
thief was the child of Zeus the son of Cronos.  So the lord
Apollo, son of Zeus, hurried on to goodly Pylos seeking his
shambling oxen, and he had his broad shoulders covered with a
dark cloud.  But when the Far-Shooter perceived the tracks, he
cried:

(ll. 219-226) 'Oh, oh!  Truly this is a great marvel that my eyes
behold!  These are indeed the tracks of straight-horned oxen, but
they are turned backwards towards the flowery meadow.  But these
others are not the footprints of man or woman or grey wolves or
bears or lions, nor do I think they are the tracks of a rough-
maned Centaur -- whoever it be that with swift feet makes such
monstrous footprints; wonderful are the tracks on this side of
the way, but yet more wonderfully are those on that.'

(ll. 227-234) When he had so said, the lord Apollo, the Son of
Zeus hastened on and came to the forest-clad mountain of Cyllene
and the deep-shadowed cave in the rock where the divine nymph
brought forth the child of Zeus who is the son of Cronos.  A
sweet odour spread over the lovely hill, and many thin-shanked
sheep were grazing on the grass.  Then far-shooting Apollo
himself stepped down in haste over the stone threshold into the
dusky cave.

(ll. 235-253) Now when the Son of Zeus and Maia saw Apollo in a
rage about his cattle, he snuggled down in his fragrant
swaddling-clothes; and as wood-ash covers over the deep embers of
tree-stumps, so Hermes cuddled himself up when he saw the Far-
Shooter.  He squeezed head and hands and feet together in a small
space, like a new born child seeking sweet sleep, though in truth
he was wide awake, and he kept his lyre under his armpit.  But
the Son of Leto was aware and failed not to perceive the
beautiful mountain-nymph and her dear son, albeit a little child
and swathed so craftily.  He peered in ever corner of the great
dwelling and, taking a bright key, he opened three closets full
of nectar and lovely ambrosia.  And much gold and silver was
stored in them, and many garments of the nymph, some purple and
some silvery white, such as are kept in the sacred houses of the
blessed gods.  Then, after the Son of Leto had searched out the
recesses of the great house, he spake to glorious Hermes:

(ll. 254-259) 'Child, lying in the cradle, make haste and tell me
of my cattle, or we two will soon fall out angrily.  For I will
take and cast you into dusty Tartarus and awful hopeless
darkness, and neither your mother nor your father shall free you
or bring you up again to the light, but you will wander under the
earth and be the leader amongst little folk.' (21)

(ll. 260-277) Then Hermes answered him with crafty words: 'Son of
Leto, what harsh words are these you have spoken?  And is it
cattle of the field you are come here to seek?  I have not seen
them: I have not heard of them: no one has told me of them.  I
cannot give news of them, nor win the reward for news.  Am I like
a cattle-liter, a stalwart person?  This is no task for me:
rather I care for other things: I care for sleep, and milk of my
mother's breast, and wrappings round my shoulders, and warm
baths.  Let no one hear the cause of this dispute; for this would
be a great marvel indeed among the deathless gods, that a child
newly born should pass in through the forepart of the house with
cattle of the field: herein you speak extravagantly.  I was born
yesterday, and my feet are soft and the ground beneath is rough;
nevertheless, if you will have it so, I will swear a great oath
by my father's head and vow that neither am I guilty myself,
neither have I seen any other who stole your cows -- whatever
cows may be; for I
Alyssa Underwood Jun 2016
Who believes what we’ve heard and seen?
    Who would have thought God’s saving power would look like this?
The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling,
    a scrubby plant in a parched field.
There was nothing attractive about him,
    nothing to cause us to take a second look.
He was looked down on and passed over,
    a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand.
One look at him and people turned away.
    We looked down on him, thought he was ****.

But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—
    our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.
We thought he brought it on himself,
    that God was punishing him for his own failures.
But it was our sins that did that to him,
    that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins!
He took the punishment, and that made us whole.
    Through his bruises we get healed.
We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost.
    We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way.
And God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong,
    on him, on him.

He was beaten, he was tortured,
    but he didn’t say a word.
Like a lamb taken to be slaughtered
    and like a sheep being sheared,
    he took it all in silence.
Justice miscarried, and he was led off—
    and did anyone really know what was happening?
He died without a thought for his own welfare,
    beaten ****** for the sins of my people.
They buried him with the wicked,
    threw him in a grave with a rich man,
Even though he’d never hurt a soul
    or said one word that wasn’t true.
Still, it’s what God had in mind all along,
    to crush him with pain.
The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin
    so that he’d see life come from it—life, life, and more life.
    And God’s plan will deeply prosper through him.

Out of that terrible travail of soul,
    he’ll see that it’s worth it and be glad he did it.
Through what he experienced, my righteous one, my servant,
    will make many “righteous ones,”
    as he himself carries the burden of their sins.
Therefore I’ll reward him extravagantly—
    the best of everything, the highest honors—
Because he looked death in the face and didn’t flinch,
    because he embraced the company of the lowest.
He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many,
    he took up the cause of all the black sheep.


~ Eugene Peterson
~~~

"Who has believed our message
    and to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed?
2 He grew up before him like a tender shoot,
    and like a root out of dry ground.
He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
    nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
3 He was despised and rejected by mankind,
    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
    he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.

4 Surely he took up our pain
    and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
    stricken by him, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
    and by his wounds we are healed.
6 We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
    each of us has turned to our own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.

7 He was oppressed and afflicted,
    yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
    and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,
    so he did not open his mouth.
8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away.
    Yet who of his generation protested?
For he was cut off from the land of the living;
    for the transgression of my people he was punished.
9 He was assigned a grave with the wicked,
    and with the rich in his death,
though he had done no violence,
    nor was any deceit in his mouth.

10 Yet it was the LORD’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer,
    and though the LORD makes his life an offering for sin,
he will see his offspring and prolong his days,
    and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand.
11 After he has suffered,
    he will see the light of life and be satisfied;
by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many,
    and he will bear their iniquities.
12 Therefore I will give him a portion among the great,
    and he will divide the spoils with the strong,
because he poured out his life unto death,
    and was numbered with the transgressors.
For he bore the sin of many,
    and made intercession for the transgressors."

~ Isaiah 53, New International Version

~~~

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FZ47-KYUdpE
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea
Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics
Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea
Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics

Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion
Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky
Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion
Straight up forever ontology on high

Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous
Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice
Orotund sonorous diction obliquitous
Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis

Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics
Guidon gyration excursion integration
Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics  
Chaos charisma objectified tribulation

Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis
Exude emote surrogate extrapolation
Astral projection littoral hypotaxis
Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation

Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities
Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity
Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities
Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity

Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra
Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra
Intensely cogitational abstract mantra
Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra
Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra
Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra
Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
It was early July when I kissed my father Daedalus goodbye.

She burned so extravagantly under the stars.

I soared through soggy summer air.

All the while the love in her faded.

My fall into autumn was triumphant.
john shai Apr 2016
I can't stop writing this poetry,
Because all I think of is poetry.
Phrases repeat temselves spontaniously.
Like trains coming continuously
Rhyme and metre extravagantly
Burst into flames explosively.
Twas I who consulted psychiatry.
OCD he said repeatedly.
OCD I thought repeatedly.

Then I broke free
From
Rhyme and.  Metre

And any rules really!!!

**** it?

Flower

Sunshine in the rain
Relax bro

Be open and throw **** all over the place
                    But do it with grace.
For those who suffer from OCD Poetry Disorder, otherwise known as English Majors.
CommonStory Sep 2015
I'm tired
It's to early
How exhilarating
Get up get moving
Get exonerated of past jury's
Long worries
Till death I'm  exasperating
Extravagantly emulating
This feeling
Feels like
It doesn't come with emotion
Not cold
No hurry
Not warm
Don't scurry
I will not promise that the murky waters ahead
Won't let you tread
Till you crystallize dead
Then evaporate while your mind is sleep
And your subconscious soaks the memory cup effervescent
Then will you know that
You will not come back
Escape the elasticity
With electric scissors
And that's more then needed
But it's this route you go
Because the Harder you learn the more you will grow
It's too bad this whole time you weren't sleeping
It's time for work
Copyright Matthew Marquis Xavier Donald  9-4-15
I give to charity.
Some people out there need food.
The charities send me messages begging for money.
The messages seem to be getting more extravagantly made.
It seems to me that the charities are getter richer.
They are begging more and more.
I give to charity.
Sometimes I don't.
Liz Apr 2014
I wish
It were Christmas 
Because I love the frenzy
And excuses it brings.

It's a beautiful 
Excuse to not do 
The ******* things 
In life that we spend 
Our lives doing.

The fairy lights 
Entwined in the trees
Cross continents 
With the buzz
of electricity.

I wish it were 
Christmas because
It brings the beautiful 
Excuse to love
Extravagantly. 

Just as we love
The icy daisies
Of spring I love
The warm branches 
Of bare Christmas Trees

I wish it were Christmas
Because I want to 
Hang the rosewood
Baubles round 
And see the glitter of sequin
Bunting strung happily
About the bedrooms.

I love the beautiful 
Excuses brought
In the gifts bought 
And how love is sieved 
Through in the snow.
I miss christmas ok!
Many thousand glittering motes
Crowd forward greedily together
In trembling circles.
Extravagantly carousing away
For a whole hour rapidly vanishing,
They rave, delirious, a shrill whir,
Shivering with joy against death.
While kingdoms, sunk into ruin,
Whose thrones, heavy with gold, instantly scattered
Into night and legend, without leaving a trace,
Have never known so fierce a dancing.
Sespoquet Nov 2012
It is useless
To put a love worth more than fire
In the vicinity of a child.
Small hands catching embers
Like snowflakes.
Feet powdered with ashes
Will only ruin his mother's dress.

No one can keep two eyes
On their brother's treasure
Without dreaming of islands.
White sand outlining
The future of the red hands.
A future lived extravagantly
In an empty beach house.

Unfair,
To a world filled with hypocrisy,
For lovers to live like angles.
Cynical souls will never grasp
A hand as beautiful as yours.
Company, confused in confession,
Lost in self-loathing,
Cannot behold eyes of the
Darkest forest green.
Skin subsides for saber teeth,
Not worthy enough for your lips.
It is unfair to the world
That you are mine.
I found a lone pearl in a grave
Of broken glass.
Hal Loyd Denton Sep 2012
Purifying bath Katmandu Nepal

Yes come to these purifying waters join these ladies it will not perform the greater spiritual cleansing
But it provides a picture of glory with her lying on her back she is just slightly submerged in this grey
Clear water her face is beaming her shoulders are bare her hair flows around her neck on one side one
Arm is freely laid over her chest the other extends upward as a friend holds her by the wrist we all know
The bliss that water enriches us with her brown skin is truly purified and her personnel glory again
Beams with such peace soon the elements will converge to change her thoughts and feelings but they
Will not touch the conciseness that was altered in the river Baghmati during Reshi Panchmi a purifying
And Atonement day for women they bare extra burdens in foreign lands how great to see them
Experience such joy countless burdens are washed away at least momentarily water the friend and
Blessed comfort to matrons it provides one of the most picture perfect sights of a soul in repose you lie
Without care a dear friend holds you by the wrist they bottled water if only they could capture this
Special reality and provide it on demand there is nothing stopping anyone from acting this out it would
Change your day your whole perspective it would truly reenergize body and soul I thought I would just
Share a place in time a rite that provides concepts that ever so briefly will take you out of time fill you
With rapture make you devoid of care allow you to play in the courts of the extravagantly rich with out
Price or responsibility they say nothing is free it doesn’t get any more free or freeing than this I guess it
Cost nature the clouds way up in the Himalayas release the moist weight it falls as abundant rain the
River swells and flows gravity pulls it down to the lower valley and when you enter you luxuriate in
Water’s gift tell the tale Katmandu alone is renown but it has even greater layers of reward than the
normal expectations hope you enjoyed a refreshing
I could tell you how to write a poem
Playful phrasing, not too quick, not too strong,
Be graphic and persuasive, appealing to us all,
The want for supposed meaning and a silver tongue
Is the truth beneath our fall
Heartfelt sentiment, articulation,
Let’s entice some Pharisees to avoid any tribulation

For the bouts and shouts of living out
And extravagantly exhibiting oneself to all and everyone—
Clichéd, now it may be,
There’s truth in that I see
Can we find apparent happiness
All appearance and accreditation,
Let’s be certain we’re (clandestinely) drudging for recognition,

Yet, I can never tell you what is true in writing,
The slow path? That’s what I long for,
Or profess, in the world of colorful mosaics,
I am the truth! The way and the light!
I’ll set you free! The God of Wonders!
Can’t you see?
I’m God, I’ve always meant to be!

Heaven help me,
I didn’t mean to pretend
But I believed beyond
What even I could comprehend..
I’m not God, this I know,
But is this—
The way I'll go?


**It is my end…
Sometimes we all get to be a bit inflated, and we end up losing ourselves... It's clichéd, I know, and I apologize, but I do wonder about my own self at all times.
Hal Loyd Denton Sep 2012
Purifying bath Katmandu Nepal

Yes come to these purifying waters join these ladies it will not perform the greater spiritual cleansing
But it provides a picture of glory with her lying on her back she is just slightly submerged in this grey
Clear water her face is beaming her shoulders are bare her hair flows around her neck on one side one
Arm is freely laid over her chest the other extends upward as a friend holds her by the wrist we all know
The bliss that water enriches us with her brown skin is truly purified and her personnel glory again
Beams with such peace soon the elements will converge to change her thoughts and feelings but they
Will not touch the conciseness that was altered in the river Baghmati during Reshi Panchmi a purifying
And Atonement day for women they bare extra burdens in foreign lands how great to see them
Experience such joy countless burdens are washed away at least momentarily water the friend and
Blessed comfort to matrons it provides one of the most picture perfect sights of a soul in repose you lie
Without care a dear friend holds you by the wrist they bottled water if only they could capture this
Special reality and provide it on demand there is nothing stopping anyone from acting this out it would
Change your day your whole perspective it would truly reenergize body and soul I thought I would just
Share a place in time a rite that provides concepts that ever so briefly will take you out of time fill you
With rapture make you devoid of care allow you to play in the courts of the extravagantly rich with out
Price or responsibility they say nothing is free it doesn’t get any more free or freeing than this I guess it
Cost nature the clouds way up in the Himalayas release the moist weight it falls as abundant rain the
River swells and flows gravity pulls it down to the lower valley and when you enter you luxuriate in
Water’s gift tell the tale Katmandu alone is renown but it has even greater layers of reward than the
normal expectations hope you enjoyed a refreshing
No one else was there with us;
so I don't care what any of them think.
They don't know how sweet that wine tasted
on hot summer days up in the cool clouds.

God knows I wish I was better than I am,
good enough to make you stay.
The city lights  burned so extravagantly
I had to know they'd burn out.

The love pulsed out of you that summer,
and I couldn't find the wound
as the life bled out of us
through the fingers of our intertwined hands -
- yet still -
in that moment,
there was a gentleness to you, lady -
- like a deer in mourning fog

I hope that someday
you find an old letter from me,
and that when you brush it off
you miss me
Jack Gilbert
sort-of falls in line with
a certain sense of humour;
a certain need for extravagantly epic Music;

Truest of Metal
is an extension, an expression,
of the disciplines of:
Practice, Patience, and Study
in the realm of Music
as well as whatever Instrument;
some of it is, indeed, simply noise
but, then again,
Music is but ordered noise,
is it not?

I see little separation
from Classical and Metal;
though Classical came first
Metal learned what works and why
from what came before;
a sort-of Musical evolution
a sort-of Cognitive evolution
a sort-of inspiration;

Metal music has great potential,
Metal is akin to Blues and Jazz
Metal is akin to Spanish Classical Guitar
Metal is akin to Baroque styles
Metal is akin to Gregorian chants
as well as rhythmic elements
derived from the Music
of various Cultures and Tribes
worldwide.

Metal
is a moderately tongue in cheek
melting ***
for lots of styles,
and, honestly,
lots of Drugs,
such as :alcohol and nicotine
and high-energy Music;

Truest of Metal
is an Art and a Science,
and, to some,
even a Religion.
Writ while listening to the following with my roomates:

Death, Live in Eindhoven:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-UtsduQ9aBY

Extracurricular:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4GZFbCqx18 <-- Hot for Teacher - Van Halen
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nM__lPTWThU <-- Painkiller - Judas Priest
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V9AbeALNVkk <-- We're Not Gonna Take it - Twisted Sister
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YI3KMGHWjvo <-- Jambi - Tool
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-txTXQKVA8 <-- The *** - Tool
avalon Nov 2017
conversational   tones too often
tumble into sloppiness, leaving
my words marked with fumble
-d caresses and stuttering half-t
-houghts. i don't leave you with
my leftovers on purpose, they d
-ropped  into my purse when i c
-ame to see you today. a lot of th
-ings drop into  my mind when i
see you. but it's mostly  your wo
-rds. perhaps my only love affair
was with the   letters you placed
under my name. i never wanted
to be beautiful until you wrote o
-f it with a ball point pen;  never
dreamt of living extravagantly u
-ntil you dusted me in spices and
sparks with flecks of ink and the
marks of your fingers. you crafte
-d everything you loved about m
-e. you are the only reason i am e
-xtravagantly in love  with the fle
-cks and sparks under my skin. y
-ou planted whispers beneath my
eyes and called them  dangerous.
but only you      were  dangerous
to                                               ­  me
this is new. this is the breath of winter as it fogs before your eyes, this is disguise, this is the hundred times you laugh before you start to cry.
Collaboration's implicit excitations explicate expectations
Unity's myriad augurs geomancy's indications
Demagoguery's ostensibly intuitive impetus coordinations
Extravagantly exorbitant panaceas appreciate exaggerations

Prolifically profuse profundity's autonomous gestations
Empirically emulate epistemology's exogamous creations
Intrigue's imperative promulgation's quantum fecundations  
Fealty's ephemeral enunciation's explicit complications

Hypercritically exponential prophylaxis protocol's interpretations
Sacrosanct unary's preternatural predilection's extrications
Eventuation's evocative illuminism avant garde's ostentations
Corrupt costume counselor's indicative explications

Assimilation's synthetic synthesis' ascensional implications
Ominous phenomenon portrayal detinue's integrations
Umbrage ultraism's penumbral platitude's objectifications
Futurity's spontaneous flamboyance's apotropaic expiations
Annex annul, implicite implement implicate!!!
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2016
i keep looking at people become serious diarists, like Paulo Coelho writing the alchemist, which can be an odd experience... i've got ants in my pants and i'm a dog's bone away from playing dead, sitting in mantra of: load off visiting Singapore and never getting the hangover joke of Bangkok... sinus gaping pore? it's all ******* feathery anyway... flusters of rouge should fantasy come to life.

learn to cackle, thus said: invoke a magpie, to learn laugher -
ha ha (etc.), as can easily be turned into a cackle,
only magpies cackle and even funnier,
applicability of diacritical markings,
as if stealing letters of silver spoons...
Scōtlānd: meiné skoot,
overt
           lá                           -nd...
spacing for the macron -
          and hence the acute without spacing...
                          truth to the tooth
and elsewhere bone-shattering governing the rattle
of the ribs... a canary's song least that of worth
with a woad's pigmentation...
               or said ivory to turqouise...
azure, and vented in lavender...
           but the cackle came
with *Scōtlānd
: learn the linguistic
arithmetic! the macron und umlaut
synonym... if applying it learn it,
if not applying it: learn Bulgarian,
Oristice the peacocking accents...
        turquoise though:
Eurydice... Orestes... synonym of acne...
so few do, in that the diacritical indication
is a higher-tier arithmetic...
            such that the less implied is
governed by the impeding peacock variation
that suggests Da, in all prevailing -isms,
                   as saying raw, to a Tartar
over a horse limb steak galloping toward Ukraine...
         but here we are: adorning tartan
of chequers and navy that mingles blue & purple...
                       and here we are abiding to
the Faroe Isle recluse...   spelled aisle    said
i'll...      and that i dare not wallow in it much further...
haggis neeps and tatties... wanking over
a cow's testicular dangly... truant to all truth...
        and all truth to the truant rodins....
  thus to laugh excessively is to cackle like a magpie,
   and hark a phlegmish soar with the raven...
                and end all tragedies without
a Hebraic definition of ha as
      the: direct article... for good manners suggest
that no clue be justified in cradling the sigma
of either the zenith of the Babylonian tower
or the spiral of condescending might twirling into
an imploding tornado over Egypt and all things
                  extravagantly Pythagorean...
  or as Balaam said: i rode a donkey out of Yerusalem:
sprechen yiddish.            
               three years among them...
  and i can say with much demand: Scōtlānd...
scootlaand...     if i ever learned to cleanse,
i also learned to adapt... a circumstance of thinking
myself adequately counter-inept to share
   the Baltic with Lapland skiers, as synonymous
and congregational in being translated into Ęglish
          for what already is: a truancy when cultural
criticism isn't enough... because the culture makes
one truant from engaging with it... because there
is no culture to be critical of...
                   a hermit foretold and with clasped hands
   gave alms, and later: with a slow clapping
          made hands orate what the tongue made shoelace-
                                                       ­         (op+. -spaghetti)       .
Kerry Peterson Apr 2013
Tempests escort trust
Right out the door
In rudest manner.

Blustery, with an icy chill
That breathes nausea into my soul,
Fear has ******* trust for far too long.

This is not The Way.
This is not what He designed,
Nor paid so dearly for.

He could not be more clear:
“You will have trouble-
But take heart,
I have overcome the world,
I am with you always,”
Cast your cares on me,
Consider the lilies of the field,
I’ve numbered the hairs on your head.”

It’s time I get ruthless,
Toss fear and worry out,
And bar the door with trust.
Start a fire of gratitude in the hearth,
And cook a celebratory feast.
When darkness descends
And trouble comes in waves,
When I see things gone wrong,
With no redeeming bent,
I will wait.
I will clutch His hand and wait.

I will look around in this moment,
And ask, “Father, what would you have?”
I lack understanding,
And there is nothing good in me,
But I belong to One who
Loves extravagantly,
Strengthens repeatedly,
Forgives freely,
Rules in humility,
And is jealous for my trust.

I’m beginning to think
It is an all or nothing proposition.
Clarity may not come,
Not in this shady realm.
But confident expectation surely can.
Do I or don’t I?
Will I or won’t I?

Trepidation and trust
Just a heartbeat apart, these two.
It’s time for ruthless trust.
PJ Poesy Sep 2016
Diastolic memory fills mind with blood
Heart purges other unforgettable serum
Gushing in and out; valediction, invasion
Scent left on bed sheets binomial theorem

Calculus, physics computing mnemonics us
Trust not sum of it, exponents baying flux
Participles and components abject humbling
Stumbling bio discourse create sedentary crux

Stupefying brain surgeons, those of heart too
Call in mathematicians, astronomers as well
No making sense of it, linguistic doctorates few
To tell of this push-pull sensory denoting hell

Not much time to live after lungs dispensed
Entrenched questions remain to be adoring
Extravagantly historians exploring
Unanswerable examining of this imploring

Must breathe the linens till all dissipation
Your essence in the ether of our resting
Place turned into mad languid laboratory
Conjuring back moments I am requesting
K Balachandran Feb 2015
Lean on my chest, gentle one, let's sit holding hands,
mountain breeze whispers Shanti mantras, let's repeat it,
may tranquil be our souls, we aren't weary yet, but the ardor
of the climb ends here; from this vintage point we are,
distant heaven and beloved earth, look deceptively equidistant,
rest your eyes on mine, let me see eternity flashing it's light.

Don't even say a word, what your heart beat says is to my heart,
the view from this peak is what we dreamt always,remember?
an incredible leap of the souls, now we feel, is the reward of  the trek
we are equanimous, yet the  tears in your doe eyes, I can't bear,
we are mortals, pain is a mongrel, our faithful companion to the end.

Let's sit here, till the gold dust, the passing sun extravagantly sprinkles,
that tells stories of galaxies dying down and new ones taking birth-
finally settles, and the anesthetic of darkness gently descends.

Look! the hidden envious eyes of the night, from afar peep at us,
on the journey back, we'll fly beyond limits and vanquish the big dark.
Fay Slimm Oct 2010
Shall we pluck intensity from the air  
and perhaps coil it soundly and
extravagantly into a petal-soft bed
of rarely seen dreaming,
where sheets of silk make textured
messages into sequinned bliss
with rainbowed moonbeams ?

Shall we take flight, you and I ?

Untried dimensions wait to take us far,
to make morning metaphors,
and catch sight of bliss
made for our breakfasting bed.

Let us capture euphoria
to feel more elation, and when
glorious sun enters,
rapturous untamed passion
shall paint light on the face
of our embrace leading to ecstasy.

Shall we make haste then to taste eternity ?
Senor Negativo Mar 2015
Everybody adores you
You are worth so much more than a torrent of tears

She will be saved
If I don't mop it up for you

Lick off your sweat
You are the only one who deserves laughter

Every time,
There is utility in donning it for me

Never, Do I wish to forget you
and how you partially appear

No one will ever forget your silence
Losing countless memories of you

You cannot feel hate, death
could sadly stand still

If you would extravagantly appear
Here
                     Here

    Here.
Mahesh Hegde Jan 2014
Sitting there in a mist I was lookin at the turning,
Holding onto what the heart was yearning,
50 percent was it about u concerning,
50 percent fr the nasty end determining.
Cold was the blood from the brain returning,
Soul was chilled but the body was burning.
Body was in a trauma, its insides churning,
And the soul inside that body just kept mourning.

She was there in front of me,
Questions raising in mind lyk a hue.
It was lyk we were meeting,
Somewhere out of the blue.
Her eyes brown and cold,
Like those prepared to hold,
Clenching my heart with her softest touch,
She was Silent but extravagantly bold..
Hair was like the flowing river,
Ears covered with small rings of gold.
Her Lips were saying something,
Eyes depicting back the love which was once sold.

We'd been so beautiful together,
But then u smashed and made it all fall,
Then I went on walking aimlessly,
About the world, I hardly cared at all.
What did u think I was made of,
Body of wood And heart wid abstract walls?,
And then the gasoline u took by,
Spilled it, lit it and made it burn all.
Now u come again to see the burnt ashes,
And wid those lips, to this, love u call.
U'd been so enormous to me,
Now u r the same but u look so small.
The only fear that now concerns me,
Is if u ask for forgiveness I vl forget it all.

Sitting there in a mist I was lookin at the turning,
Holding onto what the heart was yearning,
50 percent was it about u concerning,
50 percent fr the nasty end determining.
Cold was the blood from the brain returning,
Soul was chilled but the body was burning.
Body was in a trauma, its insides churning,
And the soul inside that body just kept mourning.

COPYRIGHT 2013 © MAHESH HEGDE. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Dance                                             For
   with                                             our                                            Despite
  me.     ­                                    gorgeous                                      this
              ­                               curtain                                    expeditious
Despite   ­                             call,                               ­                     expansion
this
vast                         ­                    For the                     which
void                                       prelude                     separates us apart
between                            of a brighter
     us                                 prospect             Let you lift the veils of  my
                                                          ­    kaleidoscopic nebulae     and touch
                                                           my blazing heart lies underneath
Splash of                                              in the way i caress yours     while the
  Shining crystal                              two of them melt down, fuse together
                                                        ­            unleash hives of fireflies
             Amongst the crowd
                           of  endlessly                                                    ­  our course
                                        straying strangers                       come across
Would i care
       pouring lifetime collection                                                       ­  Garnet
   of my astro       toss all of them    extravagantly
     billions of millions of them                                                    Diamond
     in exchange        of crossing
         your wings with mine                      Amythest
                              ­                                          Aquamarine
                       Lit up                                                               ­    Fire Opal
            the magnificent                                   our
  symphany                                                     curtain call
                                                            ­       and the prelude           Drawing
                                                 of an upcoming                            curves of
                           brighter prospect                                          new horizon
Dance with me
The ability to listen

To have awareness of not only the monumental amount of good
But the awful truths
To open your eyes-
Your mind and heart wide
So wide you swallow galaxies whole
Taking in each detail
Each minuet make up
Extravagantly beautiful
With every individual perception
Every method inside ones madness
To hold onto that and bring it to fruition

Is a speechless-
Breathtaking thing
We all have this ability in one form or the other

Use it and create the difference

(C) Tiffanie Noel Doro
On this first night of the new year
the Moon rises, full
yet veiled by extravagantly modest
silky mists,
floating serenely through
deep violet skies,
encircled by handmaiden stars.

O moon, I have the honor
of embracing your fading splendor
when you have sailed across
the spangled sea,
when, at last,
tired and pale,
your foot touches
morning's shore.

I will ever welcome you,
faint and disappearing,
into arms that could never hope
to hold your light of fullness,
and I will bear you tenderly
as a dream sleeping against my shoulder,
through each long bright day,
my weightless secret,
until we reach again the portal of twilight, where
my softest kisses, brushing your evanescent eyelids,
will bid you to stir, glow, and rise,
and fill my empty night again
with mystic light.

Ever and again, O Moon, will I follow your arcing journey,
galloping through night's uncertain lands below,
racing to meet you again
on dawn's awakening shore.
Since I cannot yet fly with you above,
I will love you thus,
your invisible breath
against my cheek,
the vision of your dreams
wrapped around my heart,
your mysterious embrace
my cloak.

Each dusk I dream: my longing
lifts me with you,
a second dark moon,
slumbering, a shadow,
through night's deepest mysteries
never parted,
never apart.
For Mirabai, 1998
Copyright 2010 by Michael S. Simpson
Jerm Feb 2014
With each passing second we grow closer to the grasp of the hereafter. Slowly slipping into the vastness of questions and faith. There is no standing still in a universe that works in a cyclical nature. There is no running in place on the linear time track. We have to keep it moving. Keep on pushing. Keep on running to that inevitable light at the end of the tunnel. The light so bright it could be the many flames of hell or the single flap of an angels wings. They carry their own weight. They carry their own burdens. Don’t speed through your life. Beware the passing lane has an oncoming Mac truck driven by Satan. Live fast, die young. A humble man’s death goes unsung. Nameless. Because we only sing for the rich and famous. The infamous and grandiose pageantry to represent the passing of man who soon understands before his final breath. closing in on the light at the end of the tunnel. He finally understood that something was larger than him and us.. that material worth held up no value in the hereafter. We get stripped down to our rawest form. We all came in as pure souls. And so do we wish to leave. And so should you believe. The extravagantly rich sell their souls. Not to the devil. They sell it to money. A commodity market for souls. Greed, lust, lies, carelessness, soullessness.. it comes full circle. The universe works in a cyclical nature its engraved in our body. Surely when these big takers and minimal givers.. reach that tunnel on their death bed. They will have a confused, remorseful look on their face. And each wrinkle on their face is like their own personal archive. Each crack representing different regrets. The larger the wrinkle the larger the size of the remorse. So as they slip further into the tunnel on the high grade linear track that’s been being built since they were babies. They slip further into the inevitable light. This light burns bright and smells of ash. Up in flames.. ashes to ashes.. dust to dust.
Mostly numb Mar 2014
And the moon kissed her face
The light was extravagantly  beautiful
But so was she
The morbid part of it  
Was she didn’t know
And she liked him so it didn’t matter
Did it?
and maybe i should just give up
Collaboration's implicit excitations explicate expectations
Unity's myriad augurs geomancy's indications
Demagoguery's ostensibly intuitive impetus coordinations
Extravagantly exorbitant panaceas appreciate exaggerations

Prolifically profuse profundity's autonomous gestations
Empirically emulate epistemology's exogamous creations
Intrigue's imperative promulgation's quantum fecundations  
Fealty's ephemeral enunciation's explicit complications

Hypercritically exponential prophylaxis protocol's interpretations
Sacrosanct unary's preternatural predilection's extrications
Eventuation's evocative illuminism avant garde's ostentations
Corrupt costume counselor's indicative explications

Assimilation's synthetic synthesis' ascensional implications
Ominous phenomenon portrayal detinue's integrations
Umbrage ultraism's penumbral platitude's objectifications
Futurity's spontaneous flamboyance's apotropaic expiations
Implicite implement implicate!!!
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea
Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics
Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea
Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics

Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion
Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky
Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion
Straight up forever ontology on high

Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous
Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice
Orotund sonorous diction obliquitous
Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis

Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics
Guidon gyration excursion integration
Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics  
Chaos charisma objectified tribulation

Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis
Exude emote surrogate extrapolation
Astral projection littoral hypotaxis
Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation

Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities
Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity
Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities
Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity

Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra
Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra
Intensely cogitational abstract mantra
Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra
Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra
Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra
Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
Re-post
Nicole Eden Jun 2018
i fling my hair in your face as to catch your attention
i purse my lips in an attempt to grasp a glimpse from you
i open my mouth and laugh extravagantly to boost your ego
i let my cardigan fall off my shoulder to show you i’m easy going
i spin around to lure your eyes in
i bend over to pick up your wallet that you dropped on the ground
i hand it to you with a pearly white smile and captivate your attention
i use my body in a way that it was not meant to be intended
i use my body to boost my ego while blaming other women for boosting men’s egos
i know what i am doing but i cannot stop
i want the attention my body brings me
“can’t you get attention in other ways” they ask
yes but i feel my body is the only way
and this is the problem in our society and i too am guilty
KILLME Dec 2013
Petrichor- the scent of rain on dry earth.
eunoia (n.) beautiful thinking; a well mind.
basorexia(n.) the overwhelming desire to kiss.
elysian(adj) beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.
clinomania(n.) the excessive desire to stay in bed.
psithurism(n.) the sound of the wind through the trees.
aegis- protection, support
affable- 1. easy and pleasant to speak to; approachable. 2. gentle and gracious.
agrestic- 1. rural; rustic. 2. unpolished; awkward.
alexithymia- inability to describe emotions in a verbal manner
ameliorate- to make or become better; improve.
anathema- 1. a formal ecclesiastical ban, curse, or excommunication. 2. a vehement denunciation; a curse. 3. one that is cursed or ******. 4. one that is greatly reviled, loathed, or shunned.
antediluvian- 1. extremely old and antiquated. 2. occurring or belonging to the era before the Flood.
apodyopsis- 1. the act of mentally ******* someone. 2. imagining women naked; ******* women mentally.
apolaustic- devoted to enjoyment
apostasy- abandonment of one's religious faith, political party, principles, or a cause.
apricity- the warmth of the sun in the winter.
assuage- 1. to make (something burdensome or painful) less intense or severe. 2. to satisfy or appease (hunger or thirst, for example). 3. to pacify or calm.
ataraxia- calmness or peace of mind; emotional tranquility.
atrabilious- 1. melancholic; gloomy. 2. irritable; ill-natured; peevish
bailiwick- one's particular area of activity, interest, or authority
banausic- merely mechanical; routine. 2. of or relating to a mechanic
clandestine- done in secret; needing to be concealed.
curple- buttocks; ****
doryphore- one who draws attention to the minor errors made by others, esp. in a pestering manner; a pedantic gadfly
dystopia- 1. an imaginary place or state in which the condition of life is extremely bad, as from deprivation, oppression, or terror. 2. a work describing such a place or state:
ecdysiast- a striptease artist
effusive- 1. unrestrained or excessive in emotional expression. 2. profuse; overflowing
euphony- agreeable sound
flapdoodle- foolish talk; nonsense
frippery- 1. pretentious, showy finery. 2. pretentious elegance; ostentation. 3. something trivial or nonessential
gelid- very cold; icy
gigglesome- prone to giggling
globule- a small spherical mass, especially a small drop of liquid
inchoate- 1. in an initial or early stage; incipient. 2. imperfectly formed or developed.
incondite- 1. poorly constructed. 2. lacking finish or refinement; crude
indemnify- 1. to protect against damage, loss, or injury; insure. 2. to make compensation to for damage, loss, or injury.
kakistocracy- government by the worst or least qualified citizens
kerfuffle- a disorderly outburst or tumult
lachrymose- 1. weeping or inclined to weep; tearful. 2. causing or tending to cause tears.
lackadaisical- lacking spirit, liveliness, or interest; languid
libertine- 1. one who acts without moral restraint; a dissolute person. 2. one who defies established religious precepts; a freethinker
logorrhea- excessive, incoherent talkativeness
maudlin- effusively or tearfully sentimental.
noctilucous- shining in the night
nullipara- a woman who has never given birth
obloquy- verbal abuse of a person or thing
perfidy- 1. deliberate breach of faith; calculated violation of trust; treachery. 2. the act or an instance of treachery.
quixotic- extravagantly chivalrous or romantic
susurrus- a soft, whispering or rustling sound; a murmur
transmogrify- to change into a different shape or form, especially one that is fantastic or bizarre
tryst- a secret meeting between two people who are having a romantic relationship.
usurp- 1. to seize and hold (the power or rights of another, for example) by force and without legal authority. 2. to take over or occupy without right
vertigo- 1. the sensation of dizziness; an instance of such a sensation. 2. a confused, disoriented state of mind.
vitiate- 1. to reduce the value or impair the quality of. 2. to corrupt morally; debase. 3. to make ineffective; invalidate.
Papilionaceous- having the form of a butterfly, having corolla with two wings resembling those of a butterfly

— The End —