one - i don't understand why saying "it's the 21st century" is somehow seen as a compensation for 20 centuries of our inhumanity, or a case of: only improvements reside in us - seems just as false to say - men can overcome angels, as stated by the first Christians... yeah, we can do miracles with technology and ultra-secular communication dynamics - discarding the existence of such beings resulted in hen parties with plastic wings and halos... what a great method to discard such being, and subsequently appropriate their features, if ever needed, but altogether unnecessary... two - that disrespecting heterosexuality aligned with the power of science has made it altogether a pointless endeavour in re-enacting the monogamous nature of swans: if we can breed the many perversions, ahem, deviations, we surely require en equal share of respect, before science undermines any deviations into an economic format of breeding pure heterosexual contingencies... three: who the hell said i was throwing anyone off a roof? i was just curious about the slack pressurising the alias big brother / grey matter dictator into teaching us language, then to later make us into a Koranic cyclops or having to sway one side, but not the other, teaching us vocabulary in school, but robbing us of a fluidity of language beyond school, in society... any rational man would say: just teach me the knuckle, the stone and the stick to express my manners... because, to be frank, i'm not into faking being civilised, just teach me to be a barbarian from the start, don't dangle the magic carrot in front of my eyes when it's a fake... teach me the barbarism you want to suppress later on in life: i'm not into being Dolly 2.3419, and an attache to a sheepdog for herding purposes to take it up the **** and shut up: because a member of Parliament did it to me aged 14; for example.

subjectivity is doubled attacked, it's not the merely rationalist
approach of an objective side of things,
i could understand tiresome efforts
Chinese politics while walking
the tourist plot on the great wall -
in a society that's seismically acknowledging
social or whatever coherence,
i find it a bit of limbo of paraphrasing
trans - or trans-physics, or the active
way to usurp metaphysics, by deviating
from thought as an activity, and more
how words are sense datum co-ordinates
that are like dictators: because it just, feels,
funny, and, offensive. ***** vocabulary,
that's what i call it... after a while you concentrate
on what ****** you off, first the educational
autocracy teaches you a vocabulary,
then come the St. Thomas' terrorists with:
you need to revise your vocabulary...
like **** that'll happen, you don't own
language, i don't own language, you're
little fascist agenda to censor such awoke
the boy that was supposed to wake Barbarossa
from his slumber with the cry: crows! crows!
a cloud of crows! funny how the eagle is a
failed emblem for empires, and the crow isn't...
mind you, the English succeeded with
an empire half-and-half: a lion and a unicorn...
i'd guess as much with a monkey and
a centaur, or at least a Cerberus - something
mythical - well, sure, the Poles are attacked
in Britain... but ever hear about the Scot
being attacked in an English village?
a Scot was attacked just the other day,
because kilts were deemed offensive...
so trans-gender is good, meta-gender is:
had a wee t'ink 'bout it...
   robots start with the pronoun use: one...
royalty start with the pronoun use: we...
                 and in between we have paranoid
they and we... and insecure you and i -
or as e. e. cummings would have it:
    *i say no world
                 can hold a you
   shall see the not
             because
  and why but
                          (who        -
true, but as much of not is entanglement
              with knots - or ought to tries -
  to not or to knot and be -
                              Shakespeare also said:
  funny how i was born neo-liberal,
millennial tattooed - and fake-left...
   i hear the right is a tsunami of focus these days,
all the generation Z are buying into
obstructing gay-marriage, and are adamant
   on not abusing pronouns - hence the current
revival in grammar school education in England -
they don't drink, i.e.: taking psychopathic gambles,
they're prone to social-media overdoses
rather than succumbing to excess ecstasy and palpitation:
i had 190 "friends"... let's just call them vantage points...
   sheered that social media sheep: only 13 left...
but at least objectivity outright says:
       subjectivity is subhuman, science taught us
that subjectivity is the fire between two flint stones,
all in all necessary - but objectivity said:
             two flints! two flints! no fire!
what attacks subjectivity is not objectivity,
it's satire... to humanise everything: good or bad,
with a standard of humour... well... telling a sad
joke to later tell the same sad joke by satirising it...
punch in a face; because there are only so number of
things that are funny in life... the English language
doesn't seem to understand that even the odd chance
of black humour, will not lift the spirits of those,
who, quiet frankly, don't want to be humoured...
the only humour left is not to provision the public
with barbaric satire, sometimes empathy will do,
because it's emphatic humour,
   it's Godot's roundabout humour: the shared experience.
laughing for the sake of laughing is
             a cry from apathy's lost interest in
being pardonably dasein - laughing at all the truthful
autobiographic desecrate is apathy's last
chance to impress: but how foul it all sounds by then...
   the western version of buddhism suddenly feels like
  a taste of pears in november: not sour, not bitter...
just maggoty foul - yucky goo
                  of a plum-shaded rouse of the skin
tinged hue after contact with knuckle and knee.
  but they attacked a ******* Scot in an English village,
because of a kilt...
                                   he knows the strand of ganging up
in hyena numbers and then the celebratory drink
of compensating conscience - they'll sooner accept
     a trans-gender dunno'h than a hot-blooded
heap of tartan - ever ask the homosexuals what
they think of St. Thomas' gospel?
              i think: too much, too early, too innocently.
and if they tell you: speak differently!
they will, i'm ****** sure they will want to
control your grammar without any specialisation -
you'll wonder: summer in Syria?
                     because as racism goes,
they attack the difference, and the difference is only
skin deep, like they did with the Afros of Kentucky,
the Kentucky Afros will spring right back,
    because the abuse was only skin deep,
therefore their soul was enlarged, and they'll
play the blues, and the jazz, and rap, and break-dance...
but if the abuse goes to the depth of soul...
in that it's soul-deep...
                                and because it's white v. white...
it will ferment, and nothing positive will come from it...
no jazz, no blues... nothing of cultural importance...
   it will be haggled in the political market
to the point where both sides will find it utterly
unbearable: and then start to sheer their skins...
        you won't get anything from this soul-deep
attack... if the holocaust is what it felt like,
            then this is a minor post-holocaust episode,
a reminder...
                          and by god, i thank god
for the fact that the Picts are involved -
                                                            whe­re to now?
O Imperium Gladstone paraphrase?
                            it will be hard to beat the unicorn -
all empires donning the eagle duly fail -
centaur and a frog? maybe next time.

Unmotivated Tears

I used to criticize
The eyes
Of those I knew
Who, at
Drops of a hat
Shed tears of ardor: God-knows-what.

Ascribing it
To vitamins and lack thereof,
Past, present and/or too much ‘love’.
Too something/something out of balance;
Nothing but a prevalence
Of yin or yang
Ganging up
On both those ducts.

Uncaring and unfeelingly –  I used to be.
Now, at eighty-three it’s me.
I may need hormone therapy.
Or is it age sagacity  -
Unmotivated tears
Based on a grasp of life’s chimere
That takes in all -
An all which makes one engineered
By tears
One must defer to.

Unmotivated Tears 4.24.2018 I Is Always You Is We; Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Aging; Arlene Corwin

the propulsion of compulsion is indefatigable,
it cannot no more, be ignored, as if it is forming
a holy commandment, number 11, you must
write when so ordered, denial is temporary
i n s a n i t y, and the backlog of nuances be
comes longer and longer by the instant

the provocateurs, them eyes, those eyes,
even the ears and tongue join in to instigate,
the cabal of influencers who peddle no product,
demand no payment but total obeisance and
sometimes low-class instant fufillment, for here
I am in servitude,@ 4:33am, by dawn’s early light
(no **** for real), propelled and compelled by
the creative, the spilling urgency of the need
to expel notions of potions that flit between the

frontal lobe, parietal lobe, cingulate gyrus,
and prefrontal cortex: (I told  you, it’s a cabal!)
all  firing
up neurons like electron spark plugs, and only
I can see the sparks colliding inside as letters,
words, phrases, none lazy, all demand long life,

or the Perpetuity of the Momentary”

it grows lighter by the minute and the sporadic
lights across the bay wink morse code secrets
to the observant, and Noyac’s  tree line has
become a distinguishable and distinctive
land mass to which I crossed last nite via &
upon the South Ferry, when all these conflicting
concepts began a painful birthing delivery,
the coagulation of the flighty, merging and
transforming into my child, in my bed, through
the picture window that has so oft been complicit
in the ganging up on my very, very old and restless
brain

but, uh, this ecrivez, this motion that the momentum
of the momentary desiring & deserving of monuments
to the perpetual
won’t be stilled and hours later, with it’s invisible hands
around my throat, it yanks from within what did not
exist ten minutes prior, but always existed inside me
as a jumbled puzzle, gestating quietly till a swift kick
of birthing pains insufferable accompanied by her
raucous dreams, awoke me from ******* and rhyming
Rem Sleep, to now, this moment, named forever as
4:57am and this noisy newborn, covered in embryonic
fluid (wonderful but disgusting really) is all ready pealing and peeling
off suggestions for brothers and sisters, this arrogance
is untenable, but the babe laughs at me, for it knows that
there are hidden, voluminous files of titles awaiting their
turning time of final conception

no longer nighttime, an early forming day, it too,
covered in its own fluidity, awaits discovery, for
the lights from across the bay have gone to bed,
turned off but the greatest, more powerful
brighter discharges
of the Sun Gods

The Bay’s waters are still, though my woman is not,
muttering, still dreaming out loud, as if she wishes
to foment
turbulence, and desires a boat for safe conveyance
across the dark seas of the night to the searing bright
June summer day that the Greek seers have forecast,
and then that moment, like it’s older sibling, will demand,
it’s very moment of personalized perpetuity, its own
unique naming,
a full recording, a welcoming by the Preservation Band,
amidst the glory of its mother mornings colorings of
palest blues, puffery of cumulus whitiwhispers all tinged
in my favorite, flavored color, creamsicle orange,
and the calming power is self evident for the rustling
back and forth of raucous dreams have ceased, and I too
am no longer possessed by the moment, until soon
when the hands creep slow round my throat by a new
moment, and all is lost, all is gained and a newest poem
is brought from the womb of my ancient past, my currency
of the next minutes and the wealth of words that are
available to us all! demands one of us, perhaps you?
to commit its actualized existence into reality

I bid you a soft adieu, for the chores of existence
those demanding pests of drudged biblical
pestilence
can no longer be kept
waiting

nml
5:21am
Sun Jul 16
2024

writ at you know where…

Time somebody told me.
I was wasting my time ganging unworthy friends.
Time somebody told me.
Loving myself is my number one priority
Loving others can come next.
Time somebody told me.
There is no “I” in every single word.
Time somebody told me.
I am beautiful,

And my face is too.

are they ganging up on hardeep 04.09.18

going to poetry with no delay
even if its cheap
segregating is all part of the play
but not going to help hardeep.
not a question of morals
fully intact and not calculating
but segregating is bringing on own quarrels
trying to use intellect for manipulating.
loved the food budget scenario
speaking trying to be ref
food bank line got to highlight and borrow
dan said "stop moaning for ???? sake" to chef.
all getting annoyed
but is it a attack by the gang
will comedy be destroyed
or a winning sinh kohli preparation hard deep hang.

My metaphor is better for the bin
My simile just says silly me
A joke, lost in translation
Wood, hidden by the trees

So I talk to the wind
Panning truths which dry to sand,
                     falling ashen.

Look to the cloud's lining
                     filing away like smoke

Out of time, out of sorts
Caught in a vortex
Time ganging up
Clogging, fogging

Come back mojo

It feels like hating me is like a leathal lotto
Different days different ppl more flawed ppl trying to bring me down to their level than come up to mine
If its not a drunk aunt on my case I'd have mor respect if she was sober
It's my underachiever cousins ganging up on me
Maybe my adolescent  siblings trying to give me a hard time
My drug addict uncle going off on me because he doesn't have that fix
Over my divorced relatives hate on my happiness since I didn't make the mistake called marriage.
You act like somebody in my world but in others your nobody and have no say.

How about for one day we all just kick it,
Without hating anyone,
Without talking **** or wanting to fight,
Asking our enemies how they're doing,
Not have to walk out the door of our
home worrying whether or not our
family will be alright.
Count on one another,
Get into a relationship without the intention of
******* on the first date
and ******* people over.
Whether you think it or not,
all this **** rots your mind.
And because of the way society is raised,
we are all guilty of doing these things.
There's no longer such thing as a pure heart,
kids are ganging up on kids because they think it's a joke
people are picking on those with autism.
Have you ever seen a kid with autism cry?
You think those you call "retarted" have no feelings
and are just happy all the time?
You're wrong,
and that's an excuse that runs through everyones mind,
saying **** you don't mean destroys others.
Not only others but you as well,
How about you walk up to him and give him a hug,
and when you do you'll know what real love is,
that person with autism should charge you a grand
so that you could know what real love is.
This person doesn't need to know you,
doesn't care about how many people you've hurt,
i guarantee he will hug you knowing he better
make it worth it because he just might
not see you again,

Your mind rots,
that is why you think it is okay to seek revenge
on those who do you wrong,
you seek to ruin their life,
but that's okay,
it's normal,
cause that's the way we were raised.
Have you ever thought,
maybe i shouldn't care?
Maybe these people already suffer enough as it is.
The truth is,
everyone suffers,
just in different ways.
The problem is that when you speak of kids from
Africa who are poor with no clothes,
you swear to be on their side and you swear like
you don't suffer the same.
But when that person comes to the U.S,
where is the help now?
You see him with eyes that judge,
and you say,
"I'm glad i don't live that way."
While he is thinking:
"I'm happy im alive,
i'm happy i'm not blind and i could see these
people with big blue eyes, green eyes brown eyes
light skin, brown skin,
and many different races."
Well you're really fcken blessed aren't you?
How about putting some clothes on his back,
and inviting him to your home to eat;
This kid was raised to ****** with a machete against his own will,
and he was saved.

You,
You're mind is full of dirt and you don't even know it.
You think you don't suffer the same?
You think that you are blessed because you have
clothes on your back?
Help those around you,
Pray for them,
and pray for God to fix your problems as well.
Cause you don't have the power to fix them,
and the only way your rotten mind will
think they are fixed is by putting those around you, under you.
This is the ideal world,
the ideal day,
but it will never exist how sad is that.

Love those around you,
cause tomorrow they'll be gone.
And your wish will come true,
your enemies will be gone too.
Society needs to change

"Kids can be mean," they said.
"Kids can be immature."
They told us that kids can
do things they normally wouldn't
without really thinking things through.
They didn't warn us, though,
that those same kids
would smile at you in the halls
and treat you like a friend
when you were face to face.
They never warned us
that kids would be cruelest
when they could hide behind
the mask of the word "anonymous"
and walk away, totally blameless.
We weren't ever told
that the harshest things said to us
would be from kids we thought liked us—
and we'd never even know which "friends"
we're saying things to hurt us.

"Kids can be mean," they said,
"but they won't really mean it.
It's just being swept up in the mindset
that acceptance will come from
judging those that are being judged."

And they sometimes tried to tell us,
but so few of us listened…
the power we have
to stop the kids ganging up on kid
is just as strong
as the power we have to start it.

Be a soldier
**** men
Be a hero
Be a civilian
**** men
Be sentenced to death by THE man
No no
Let me clarify
It's okay
When the man kills the man who kills the other man
Because we can't **** the men in OUR great country
Treason
Just the men of OTHERS
Loyalty
And I think of it like sibling rivalries
Ganging up on one another
Under the same roof
Now
Let me tell you of the greatest country in the world
Settlers
Brave souls who had to evict the native Americans
Because only savages don't have guns
And resistors did die
But we won our land
(Christened in their blood)
Grabbing at it like pocketed gas station goodies
And it was easy enough
To suspend your conscience for long enough
We learned
So last week I decided to walk into the nicest house I could find and claim it mine
It didn't work
Maybe next time I'll bring my guns
And as their fear becomes my power
I don't know what I'll become
But I think Niccolo put it best
Better being feared than loved
So we point our nukes at the bad men
The ones that live in the less civilized  (less american) parts
Because violence is NOT the answer, kids, but war is
Civilian
If you wish to ****
Go buy a gun
And **** yourself

2 dai its like one of those days my head fill so havy i never would have though that love could be so hard,know my head its like a baloon thats about to pop my mind is ganging up on my heart as it is getting weak esif the devel is holding ma soul in the porm of his hend smiling weiting for me to loose ma wai 2 take the chance,bt as long as i see the light through out the support of my friendz iwil never wark alone even when the nights along even when i loose your love bt i hope i wil find it one's more and be able 2 smile with u

My dad always had a belly
from the back you wouldn’t have thought he was fat
but once he turned around
you noticed he carried boulders in his beer gut
and it made the best pillow a 4-8 year old boy could ask for
I told him that at night before bed
my head on his belly
we used to drink apple tango when we went and walked our dogs together
every weekend morning
Daddy wasn’t a rolling stone
but he was a man of business class transcontinental flights
important Dr. Baxter
he helped with my homework
because his patience ran deeper than most
but he was a volcano of suppressed emotion
one small **** up away from erupting
back when we were kids it was scary for my brothers and me
now we laugh about it
we’re all taller than him now
But I still remember living at the Sheridan for 3 weeks
all of us ganging up on him in the pool
the way he picked us up and tossed us with ease
a 5’6 210 lb man
and I remember all the fights
the last minute flights
me hiding in my bed with my hands covering my ears
him so quiet and rational
my Mum so explosive and passionate
I remember her crying on Christmas eve
when I was sneaking outside for a smoke
I remember anger and numbness
I wrote him a letter once
I never sent it
I remember how friends and family used to tell me how alike we were
how that went from a good thing to a bad thing
I remember meeting his dad for the first time
the other Harry Baxter
and I remember not liking him
I remember when he stole all of our money and left my Dad for a second time
I remember wanting to beat the life out of that old man
I’m still hoping for the chance
I don’t remember the boarding school he went to
or the brothers and sisters he never got to grow up with
or how his mother called me “the boy” until I was old enough to read
I remember being so angry at myself for not being able to be angry enough
but It’s been a while now since all the drama
and I’ve had time to think and cool off
and ******* being a Dad has to be a tough gig
but he was always there for us in some way
maybe not to talk about heartbreak
or life long dreams
but my life has been relatively easy
and I never found myself wanting
He is a strange, quiet man
nobody is harder to shop for
Mum always used to say his hobby was his children
and I get that
I mean, I’m still here
and I think that means he did something right

I believe that every conscious being travels this road
Where nothing is completely given or reached
Where everything completely stop but never goes
This road diverged into either the left path or right
plagued with the  decision of making a choice
The pressure of that inner voice
Speaking to you
of the consequences of each action
the good never out weigh  the bad
The consequences never worth the results
The action of always sacrificing something in terms of ganging
It is the  road that you cannot venture away
No matter where you turn
you always end up returning
this road is one who tampers with your mental capacity
Your morality
Your happiness
Your individuality
It happened too those before
and will to those after me
what a progressional tragedy

One day,
you would never have to drive on your own to work.
I will be there holding your hand
from short trips around the city
to road trips and long drives to anywhere we wish.

One day,
you wouldn't have to wake up
with a cold side on the bed.
I will be right there beside you
with your head on my chest
while I caress your hair
as I watch you sleep
and kiss you good night's and good morning's.

One day,
when you feel like the world is ganging up on you
and you need hugs and the hold of a warm hand
I won't be just a text message or Skype call away
but will be there by you.
Holding your hand,
as the whole world passes by.

One day,
this will all be our reality.
And this day,
will come real soon.

I love you my Annette, always.

Yours, and only yours,
Mims

I tried sleeping for about five minutes,
But my foot started twitching
And the lights started ganging up on me
And I swear there were spiders crawling up the trees painted on my wall to get to me
I watched the glass melt out of my window and thought,
"I want to be like that."
I want to melt into a world not dictated by fear
I'm afraid of my own skin,
Hoping that clothes will protect one hand from the other
I'm afraid of half-wit memories
Half faded
Half fuzzy
Half real
I really don't remember doing that thing I did in my sleep, but I'm going to pretend to
Sleep seems now so far away
The lights blink when I do and the spiders stop when I open my eyes

I'm drowning into that void again
I'm screaming, but no one's there
I reach out, but there's nothing to hold on to
I've found myself in this pit of misery

It's ganging up on me
The monsters and my demons
They've come to torture me
And there's no escape

I see no light, yet I feel the tears running down
I hear nothing, but my own cries
I'm ripping my hair off, feeling no pain at all
I'm used to it anyway

Don't you just hate it when you go into this state
Where you're not sure if anyone cares
Or gives the slightest **** about you?
Yeah, I hate it too

I'll claw on to what's not even there
Counting off for no reason
I just want to feel better
When does it all get better?

If you're in dire need of a fool,
More so that you burn innocence,
That must mean you ran out of tools,
And your fear is ganging up on you.

Learning to live once more
Learning to love again
How to share my thoughts
Trying to understand why,
Why it is I feel so lost
Discovering who I am
That sounds so lame
But ain't it the truth  
A new life I've been give
A new beginning,  how lucky I am
A life without drugs or alcohol
Who would have ever thought
That'd be the life I'm living today
Seems like I'd struggle
To stay clean and sober
To my suprise & everyone else,
It's been so easy
Sobriety isn't a issue
The real struggle I've had
Has I've been living this life
Is finding who I am
I know nothing about me
My likes, dislikes in anything
At least not as I'm sober
So sad to say when having that first date
"Tell me about you"
When I know nothing of me
Coping is different
Sad, mad, or stuck inbetween
I can only scream
No drugs to remove what it is I feel
No alcohol to block the memories
Everything is so real
All the pain I feel
From years of being blocked
All ganging up on me
How I wish I could just
Just turn to drugs
I've come so far
I must stay strong
But can these thoughts
Can these thoughts just leave me be.
As I'm just trying to find me .

Watched from a distance observing the scene taking it all in. Putting the puzzle pieces together. Obsessed with telling the truth so many are angered and mad by it.
Not judging others but others always had something to say when no one asked. After giving his opinion it took others ganging up on him to silence him. Minding his business speaking when spoken to half the time alone minding his own business.

Equation simple as chips
us against them
ganging up cowards
grapevines of lies and deceits to coral members
drama created to engulf innocent
call it cheap cowardice mobbing
writing dirges and fantasies
pretending sowing nonsensical seeds called doubts
made up projections from immature damaged personalities
the toxins of narcissists, neurotics and psychos
presented to show how crazy minds works
coerced members scared to not participate
too weak or intimidated
not wanting to be seen as as respecting the RESPECTABLE
afraid they will be labelled by gang as toadies
******* pretending power to control
individually they are all weak inadequate unremarkable cowards
no strength, no confidence, no intellect, mediocre lowlifes
union of ******* and the underachievers and the scums
no mystery to solve, cheap ganging up by morons
all members fearful cowards
with lots to hide, lots to be ashamed for
the battle of shame by the shamed nonentities
you all don't match up, how can simpletons wreck genuine confidence, can you walk on clouds, you not fit to lace my boots
much less make me feel small
you have helped me see and appreciate
how weak, easily led and unwise most people are
and how better than you moronic gangs I AM
I know now I am indeed better than you all
and you confirm that every time
Simple as.............

and what of the other tree, that bore fruits of truth
and falsehood,
by now we should have summed up: realised
that of the tree that smothered us with
a supposed confusion of not being able
to differentiate good from evil and evil from good:
we could attest with the good evil
and the evil good: in algebra the equivalent
to: a quadratic equation...
in a world where the established binary order
has become binomial... all because of ***-strangulation
akin to how the fusion of swan-monogamy
and chimpanzee polygamy - arab harems still
legal... just like slavery was still legal
for those camel jockeys as far as 1970s "officially":
yet still unofficially: the Bangladeshi slaves
of Qatar...
surely the supposed bonum ultimatum ex deus
suggests: a deity without a rigorous campfire
storytime, not plucking of the eye no hardship
of an Odin... not accountability of man
retracting, netting his existence with that dreaded
omni- prefix attached to some Prof Xavier (ex saviour)
type dynamic demagogue (gnostic gnomes
understood this, only recently i honed in
on the pronunciation of the word: yacht...
it's apparently YAT... not yαχτ -
the ch is a surd compound... unlike CHange...
unlike CHasm... no wait: Napoleon, wait...
             that's Kasm... Charon? or Haron?
i.e. Xaron? no, not kss kss... not QW QW off of a C or K...
i'm getting flashbacks from reading
James Joyce's Finnegans Wake...
     which in a time where only Orwell's 1984 is cited
with mass recognition like it's some dodo
retraction from reading the Bib'le to the dot
almost blindly... eh... m'eh...
            so i was watching this Tucker Carlson
interview with Vlad the Putt -
and... i switched off from the history lesson up
to the point where Vladie ol' Boy (he's getting old...
he's becoming irrelevant, sorry, but the guy ought
to take a Pope Emeritus stance... too much John Paul II /
Elizabeth II imitations... those ******* would cling
to the throne and sceptre and cross
all drooling, slobbering their clinginess to power...
respect for Pope Emeritus I - Ratzinger Ratz...
i switched off when he mentioned how the Polacks
collaborated with the Nazis... sure sure...
and the Soviets didn't invade Poland from the east?
right? they didn't... 123 years... ABC timespan
of "lost property"...
         bullies... ganging up... oh never mention
the ******* Swedes and the Turks have a stab...
1772, 1793, 1795 - oh and 1939...
altogether: perfect... 4 partitions of Poland...
we collaborated... we should be thankful for Joe Stalin
taking away our pride of lions: Lviv...
for what? Posen? we already established that town...
Breslau then... thankful?
thankful as in: the Katyn massacre of our intellectuals
service men of the army that the ******* Cossacks
blamed on the Nazis?!
to be frank... war = education... and let me tell you:
the Nazis were by far the better educators
to that ******* lump of red of Siberia:
those KACAPY... kaptur (hood): kacapy?
hoodlums...
                            the Nazis were by far the better
educators than the Soviets...
i'm just wondering... were we seriously on the NEXT
list should the Holocaust have been completed?
we sort of were:
    i do feel a grudge thinking that "my" people were
used as slave labour to build those futile camps...
but there's no knowing that logic went into
speaking about establishing a tausend jahr *****
and negating as a downfall joke: arbeit macht frei:
what work?! the working up to slaughter?
that's what happens when sophists come into power...
talk daisies all day long but end up
skewering potato *******...
          it's almost fascinating though: how eastern
rulers are historically conscious
while western rulers are: out to lunch when it comes
to any historical reference(s)...
living a journalistic insomnia of day-to-day...
i'll give Putin that much credit: he speaks history...
can an American president do the same?
unlikely... Russia is old... and the worst thing you
can do to a Russian is gang up on him...
bear and rat... corner a rat: say goodbye to your
artery in your neck...
you can't isolate a Russian: esp in this fair game
fair for all spirit of the Olympics...
strip a Russian of a flag, allegiance?
                    i'm defending an enemy because:
i have respect for him...
      only recently i was speaking to Charlie the Cypriot
and we were both like:
conscripted into the English army...
and fight for what? what?!
gay marriage, pronouns of transgender... what?!
what continuity of life, what existential integrity
are we... ******* talking about?
fight for a ******* dead-end? cul de sac existentialism?
i'd probably switch to the Russian side
if push: and it's being pushed: now comes the shove...
or... is there something not masculine about
me whereby: "daddy" comes in and says: look...
with that grin so diabolical it can allow him
to use 6 human bollards to control a rough estimate
of 10,000 people... dictating traffic into a tube station...

so we know that there's good evil and that there's
evil good... because there is no good good
there is no evil evil... there is no purity dynamic:
good contaminates evil and evil contaminates good...
oddly enough...
salt water and fresh water...
can't drink the sea...
but isn't fresh water easily contaminated by
parasites? eh eh?!

cite Oliver Moody: Poland doubles size of army
to counter Russia...
heroic victory over the Red Army in 1920
known as the Miracle of the Vistula...
doubled from 95,000 to 200,000...
        ultimate condition for feeling safe:
300,000 personnel...
                   1,600 tanks... more than Britain,
France, Germany, Spain and Italy... COMBINED...
fringe master 3D chess (3D chess?
that's when you know how to orientate people:
i can't exactly say: tell people what to do...
but then again people behave differently
in a crowd, there is no individualism...
the only individualism is of those idiots that argue
that waiting in a queue in an egress situation
of a stadium is their rights being taken
while gladly queuing in a supermarket with
their groceries... the singlefile allure of "reason"
*****...)
he's right though: delinquents of NATO...
so happy that they don't know the stench of
a Mongolian horde... or the Ottoman **** slurp...
just stick to your ******* garden variety life
of an islander and be content with:
oh, only the Norman invasion, how many civil wars
did we wage (is that only two?
the war of the roses and that other one with Ollie
Crommie; only two?)
and that fun side project of Jane Austen,
cricket, football or rugby...
                            now that's the life... sitcoms and
Monty ******* Python wits...
have to start calling them the wits versus the wigs...

but what of that other tree?
we established that there is good evil and there's evil good...
Erwin James just died:
convicted murderer with a troubled past who used
his sentence to shed light on life behind bars
through a column for the Guardian (2016 memoir,
Redeemable)... hmm... algebra:
                           (a + b)² = a² + 2ab + b²
now: was "i" telling a lie when "he" said that you
will know the difference between good and evil?
he said that i don't so...
another pronoun game?! IT and NOTHING are also
pronouns... they doesn't concern me...
you can be it or nothing: you's noose a bit, loose?
you snooze: you lose.
oh i can address myself in third person...
only today i woke trying to rework Jungian psychology
with the "crudeness" of the Cartesian:
res cogitans, res extensa... with my neo-Cartesian
instigation of res vanus into the whole dynamic:
basically: as much as i'd like to think that i'm a thinking
thing... i'm not actually thinking all the time...
my thinking is not a ******* AC/DC momentum:
i switch off... by switching off i invite the dynamic
of res vanus... an empty vessel...
which allows me to drift into res extensa and
re-orientate my consciousness by sometimes
catching myself thinking: passively...
should the dynamic of res cogitans be kept integrally:
well then... no wonder i studied madness
throughout my 20s... res cogitans: over-thinking
creates a schizophrenic res extensa dynamic of
hallucinating audio... vox ultra...
why think you can control thinking to subsequently
wonder why the ego has been isolated and
is seemingly beyond our control to then couple it
with all that self- *******?
by now elaborating and nice language is not on
the cards!

what of that other tree, the easier one to manage:
we ate two fruits, i think...
or at least i ate from the fruit of truths and falsehoods...
that's easier to stomach...
you can tell a truth from a lie...
can't you?                good was always going to be
conflated with evil...
because this life is a paradox...
       a paradox with clear indicators of logical steps...
gravity for one but then
we found:
                       m₁m₂
           F = G. --------
                           r²

what am i alluding to? what Fall of Man?
to me God fell... after all: how come we came into
contact with words, encoding sounds
to subsequently elaborate what we meant by X?
the Rise of Man... coupled with the Fall of God...

maybe i'm just put off by Cyrillic thinking that
it's a cheap knock off of Greek: which it is...
no one is going to convince me that
Cyrillic is half baked half arsed wholly drunk
when it comes to ensuring there is no Latin influence
protruding with some of the letters...

Аа contra Αα     see... half baked...
Ее contra Εε        again... half baked...
Зз contra Ζζ       half baked
Мм              Μμ half baked...
obviously i'll be more influenced by the Germanic
strand of what's the expected European...
history lesson Putin?
how about you align yourself to that shared
conflict with the northern crusades
after the death of Barbarossa
when the disillusioned Germans were still
eager for some crusade and if not the Muzzies
then the Lithuanian pagans...
how about the Battle of Grunwald 1410
and 1242 Battle on the Ice...
because isn't that how the northern crusades
started, from the disillusioned Germans
coming back with limp ***** after their great
Barbarossa drowned in a ******* puddle?
            hey hey: meet you halfway?!
because like i already mentioned: sooner the Slavic
people start a war against themselves
than succumb to this current western miasma...
myopia... m'eh to life...
have some ***** and a vitality: some life...
war is education...
and i do want a Russian for an enemy than a friend...
i tried having a Russian girlfriend
well obviously that backfired...
but St. Petersburg back in 2007 was such a welcoming
place...
Moscow too...
but i will not invoke Cyrillic... it's aesthetically unappealing
for me to erode whatever's left of my brain
cells on that: when i can have the beautiful Greek!

The Shame of your 'Civilised society

Organized stalking is a form of terrorism used against an individual in a malicious attempt to reduce the quality of a person's life so they will: have a nervous breakdown, become incarcerated, institutionalized, experience constant mental, emotional, or physical pain, become homeless, and /or commit suicide.  This is done using well-orchestrated accusations, lies, rumors, bogus investigations, setups, framings, intimidation, overt or covert threats, vandalism, thefts, sabotage, torture, humiliation, emotional terror and general harassment. It is a “ganging up” by members of the community who follow an organizer and participate in a systematic “terrorizing” of an individual.”

I confronted WHITE Criminal Neighbours
who broke into my wife's and I Flat and burgled us.
I said I was going to raise a petition to have them evicted.
We have never committed any crime, both my wife and I had always been in employment. I paid taxes, I never harmed or injured anyone in my life.

But we instantly became gangstalking victims and our lives torn apart and destroyed by Criminal gang stalkers.

They have slandered and defamed me
Hounded me out of work
Hound me everywhere
and is subjected to a relentless systematic campaign of harassment,
bullying, humiliation, provocation, abuse, cyber bullying and cyber trolling, sabotaging, gas-lighting, intimidation and misrepresentation. They have discredited me and hidden the truth from all those helping them and the community. How can an innocent man, who never committed any crime be the villain here.

All these and more for standing up to RACIST BULLYING
THIEVES.

CONGRATULATIONS ALL YOU INVOLVED.....

simple wiggins from hanky panky
lucre snatchers, con artists and hatchet jobbers
conjoiners fleecers and dastard pirates and blighty racists
all in the mix waiting for a fix to put the licks on an unexpected brick

simple wiggins twisting and turning
crooks from nooks and dopes with hapless hopes
takes on a softwood that turns out an oak that's no joke
now they're all in a tizzy frizzing and frazzling in dazzling dizzy

simple wiggins confused and nonplussed
flinging pans, pots an kitchen sinks cause they're ****** finks
plans astray and lies exposing they're decomposing pansies in panic
shamed, belittles in prattles, rattling as dumb cows in stinging nestles

simple wiggins oafs without loaves
liars and shysters wanting unearned pearls and oysters
foul bullies in foul follies ganging a set-up con for purloining lollies
using all fooled cannon-fodders as watchers, informers an performers

simple wiggins thieves and chalk scums
go dig your rig and rind your grid for your putrid grimy tosh
undermined criminals in urinals politicking garbage to your trash
most now see your game for you're lame in your shameless lanes

NOTE:
Groups with shared interests.
Individuals (possible targets) who threaten those groups in some way.

**********
A racist White family of CROOKS broke into our Flat and stole
this after extorting money from us because both my wife and i work
when we stopped giving them money and food stuff
they decided this was because we are greedy.
they called in their fellow racist friends
they called in the local socialists
who decided we are indeed greedy
and also Tories for we are clean, law-abiding and have work ethics
**********

NOTE:
The group with shared interests ganging up against that person. The group thus becomes the mobbing perpetrator team.
***********

Chris, the Mother of the Criminal Family, Other white racist Friends, the local socialists and various fooled, intimidated, coerced
or blackmailed assortments joined up.
A Hate and Criminal gangstalking Campaign is launched
************

NOTE:
Usually a main instigator or a small group of instigators among the perpetrator team
*************

Chris, Joan, Tom, Kelly, Linda, Cindy, Bill, The Thomases, Mrs Withers, Mr Bing....the local Care-taker
*************

NOTE:
A shift of focus from what targets said or did that threaten the group, to devaluing targets as persons as a strategy to suppress them, taking away their power
*************

We suddenly became the arrogant greedy Black couple who
insulted the working classes and took food from children mouths
we were hoity toity grasses, who threatened poor starving people
I was a monster who commits domestic abuse, I was a greedy pig
I was an animal, wild and dangerous, I was made a demon
*************

NOTE:
An aim to discredit and/or destroy the target's reputation, often persistently monitoring them to find ever more information for this purpose
**************

They declared I was doomed, Character assignation, public humiliation, we will ruin your lives, they shouted.
We will make you wish you were dead, we will make your lives living Hell, we will drive you to suicide, they crowed
**************

NOTE:
Coor­dination of the group's activities against targets
Character Assassination: accusations, Lies, Rumors, Bogus investigations, Setups, Framing, False cover stories, Bogus evidence
Cyber stalking: attacks through internet, multiple perpetrators
Emotional terror: From other tactics listed
Intimidation: Overt or covert threats, from tactics, Vandalism, Thefts, Sabotage
Misdirection: A wrong or incorrect direction, guidance, or instruction.
Mimicry: The action or art of imitating someone or something, typically in order to entertain or ridicule.
Mobbing: In the context of human beings, means bullying of an individual by a group, in any context, such as peer group, school, workplace, neighborhood, community, or online.
Persistence is the key is the buzz-word, Democracy is the hook
Solidarity is the umbrella to justify mobbing an innocent victim.
*************

NOTE:
Persi­stent attacks by the perpetrator team against targets to continually devalue them
*************

Creating staged happenstance and  Using events unfolding in my personal life that fed to cult-members and fooled recruits racist crooks and the socialist warriors, they relentlessly try to project upon me negative emotions such as fear, shame & hopelessness

When the Mind is Blind, The eyes cannot See



******************­******

You can’t do wrong and get by,
No matter how much you may try;
Nothing hidden can be, everything He doth see,
You can’t do wrong and get by.

Out into the darkness you alone may go,
And seeds for the wicked one sow;
There’s an eye that’s watching from the throne on high,
You can’t do wrong and get by.

Yes, He knows your secrets, everything you do,
He knows that your life is untrue;
You can ne’er deceive Him, there’s no use to try,
You can’t do wrong and get by.

hey im back
putting words to complex emotions
if only their were enough words out there to describe how i feel
it's always so many things tied together
blue, excited, scared, hopeful, exhausted
all at once
ganging up on me
making me wanna laugh and sob
dance around to my favourite music or have a breakdown and cut my skin
how do i write something that's so chaotic
where do i begin
i don't even know how i've ever written anything
it's beyond me
im not talented enough to have written the things i have
it must have been influenced by some things i read or heard around me
it couldn't have been me
i'm an imposter
i'm not a writer
i'm just a girl
that's too emotional to function properly

Your face, it takes me back
to places I don't want to go,
to past mistakes, a time
in which I didn't know
I had to brake.

Flooded by bad memories,
the thoughts are ganging up on me.
The girls keep hanging up on me,
left on read again. Yet I thought it was funny to say
"That is what she said.".

My hands and pants were over active
and my face messed up with battlefield.
My performances were overeager, antsy
and unkind words my rattling shield.

So thank god I'm no longer there
even if my life is like an unhit spare.

oh dear
the redundant offspring's of the revolting slave traders
are cracking their odious empty heads in riotous rage
bristling with murderous frustration frothing like rabid dogs
for a warrior uncaptured dared refuse their snares disdainfully
and in further consternation to so called woke thieving merchants
shows these carcasses what strength and intelligence is all about

oh dear
the inadequate moronic offspring's of the revolting slave traders
have been disgraced and shamed and called out as common rogues
liars, crooks, odious reprobates, cowardly consummate embezzlers
nefarious back-stabbing poltroons only brave in ganging an mobbing
inherent bullies who plundered and ***** from east north and south
now seeing the children of their slaves ascending heights over them

oh dear
the puffed up no brass cockerel offspring's of revolting slave traders
in lingering malaise ineffectual and deflated isms are spitting nails
for the one man out there that would never represent a slave
from noble birth he sail and in sublime honour he thrives in glory
their stuff of nightmare the regal ebony that outshines dwindling ivory
they have become crazed and tearing lank hairs out they hobble on war path

oh dear
the ignorant uncouth bumptiously self entitled asinine offspring's
of the psychotic slave traders
are fighting for their birth right to use and subjugate all other races
history does not serve fools well and ignorance is a prevalent disease
oh dear, what can the matter be, dear dear  what can the matter be
Johnny's so long at the lynching party
he promised to bring me silver diamonds, gold tobacco tea and
coffee and also a shrunken head from Peru
oh dear

The facets of love.

I love you, and your face loves itself
for its perfect nose, green eyes and rosy lips
your fragrance has a narcissistic allure.
The way you walk, the pavements adore you
Rain shies away not to make your hair wet.
I love you, and your face loves itself.
When you cross the street horn bleats
by themselves, white cars turn pink
your fragrance has a narcissistic allure.
The sun doesn’t burn your skin makes
it golden glows in the dark
till one day the mirror tells of a wrinkle
you know years are ganging on you
your enemy is time, wait in the wings
The furrows settle on your forehead
I love you but your face doesn’t love itself
Car horns do not blare anymore
Get off the road, you lazy old woman.
Your fragrance of youth has lost its allure.