It's a rather dark sort of Funny,
that is to say *"a very, very sad Truth,"
that I can say: "when People stand up against Atrocity,
more Atrocity is generally committed
to quell Our vindicated outcry."
--
Es ist eine eher dunkle Art von Humor,
das heisst "eine sehr, sehr traurige Wahrheit"
dass ich sagen kann: *"Wenn Leute aufstehen gegen Gräuel,
mehr Gräuel wird allgemein verpflichtet,
unsere bestätigt Aufschrei zu unterdrücken. "

Das Leben ist schön, aber auch schwer,
für manche zu kurz, für andere nicht fair.
Wenn es anders kommt als man denkt,
da ist der eine schon mal gekränkt.
Der andre sieht es mit Begeisterung,
so hat das Leben für ihn noch Schwung.

Aber wenn ein Virus die ganze Welt befällt
und alles zerschellt - das geht ins Geld.
Dann ist auch unser Wohlstand schon bedroht,
und die Lebensqualität gerät in Not.

Regierungen versuchen uns zu schützen,
auch mit Finanzspritzen zu unterstützen,
aber die Spritzen in den Oberarm
sehen Leugner mit größtem Alarm.

Nun dachte man, die Welt hat sich vereint
und kämpft gegen den gemeinsamen Feind,
doch gibt es Leute mit denen kann man nicht reden,
sie können alles stets anders belegen.
Sie meinen, auf die da oben kann man nicht zählen,
deren Plan sei, ihnen die Freiheiten zu stehlen.

Dieses Misstrauen könnte uns leicht zerspalten,
dann wäre ein Bürgerkrieg kaum aufzuhalten.
Wie könnten Leugner ihre Angst verlieren,
damit sie endlich neues Vertrauen riskieren?

Wir sollten gute Beispiele setzen,
uns kümmern um den Ersten und den Letzten.
So entsteht ein guter Gemeinschaftssinn
für alle Ausgegrenzten ein Gewinn.

Ein respektvoller Umgang miteinander, der oft fehlt,
ist was zählt, so sehr zählt, zählt und zählt und zählt.

Durchstreifen im blauen Schmerz
Schwimmen im Blau des Ozeans
Vorübergehend rhetorisch denken
Ich vergesse gerne ganz gut.

Gegen den Willen sprechen
Auf dem unbekannten Weg gehen
Laufen gegen Müdigkeit
Auf die falsche Weise schweben.

Scheint, alle Hoffnungen sind
auf der anderen Seite des Flusses.

Ich bin gegen für und gegen,
Und ich stehe da entgegen.
Chaos ist da und deswegen
Dies' die Situation ist ergeben.

Die Wimpern flattern über geschwollenen Augen
grell sticht das Licht der anbrechenden Zeit
unglaubliche Gewissheit
Werte und Moral zerstört
eingetauscht gegen falsche Hoffnungen
ohne Sinn und Verstand
dunkle Wolken formieren sich
ein Sturm zieht auf
Verzweifelte Versuche ihn zu besänftigen
oder sich zu wappnen
gegen Unberechenbarkeit und Zerstörung
Die alte Weltordnung macht Platz
für eine neue Realität

all i can say, and i'll make it
haiku-style-terse...
there's nothing boring
about my life...
     i'm teaching my neighbour's
kid to stare at the end
of his garden with a blank
stare...
   the cat's i own?
              they don't bother
to venture outside the garden...
unlike the conventional
cats of the area...
     my night's entertainment?
when a moth flies into my room
and i catch it with
my bare hands, and then
release it into the night...
  **** the very rare example
of a male mosquito (male
mosquitos?
  smaller than the females,
the ones that **** blood) -
oh **** me, i can take to staring
  at nothing in particular
  and hope for a memory,
and then an even quicker-memory
loss...
   let's just say: buddha
   with open eyes, although wearing
sun-glasses...
         10 minutes later,
a sip of *** and ms. pepsi
and a cigarette... and i'm like... huh?
oh right... the clouds shifted.
  it's just the thing,
   the taoists (abhorred by ezra pound,
for reasons i can't quiet fathom...
   these days he'd be against
the feng shui movement) -
   i learned from tao...
   1st and only principle:
  if you want to help the world, i.e. "change"
it? forget the world and
   let the world forget you...
writers only achieve
     fame post-mortem
                                 anyway...
what, pre-mortem?
      a red carpet,
                  a book made into a movie,
loads of money,
   and then a fake care for
                               philanthropy.
     but if ezra was alive today?
  tao wouldn't bother him,
  but i'm sure as **** that feng shui
would...
     how about this feng shui?!
   how about a dust-bin on every
street corner in a suburban area,
to get rid of the litter problem
   in suburban areas?
                   a change of plan took place
today...
          instead of the usual beer
drank walking back with ms. pepsi
and ***? an apple... one apple, f'oh-tee pence...
i felt constipated,
     i once heard that apples are
good for gas, if not the *****...
    well, **** me, if people think that
reading is boring, or tedious,
and they want to get in on the action,
and protest...
                   i wish i could... i just can't...
be so... so: enthusiastic...
      just imagine finding
a brick wall entertaining...
   or a bee bothering the little flowers
for nectar,
    or a cat sleeping...
                      yep, imagine a drug
with the special effect of not enchancing
colours like l.s.d., but
  a drug that allows you to see
a nightmarish black & white world...
  if you find someone that
        has created a drug that makes
you see in black & white, let me know,
i'm interested...
  or imagine the elevation of frankenstein!
implanting cat's eyes into a human
being!
            that would be a great scientific
experiment...
    so no, i don't believe science
     is omnipotent as of yet,
  or that it can have this current zeitgest...
it's still a child,
   a child "about" to be born,
  while religion, a father "about" to die -
and of course -
               the mother sophia -
                    in reality a ***** of the state -
the horrors i heard about
the canadian legal system...
   anecdote:
   1. there's a worded agreement,
               she's on a contraceptive,
    because she wants to dismissis the middle
man, herr gummi...
2. an engagement ring
   3. she breaks it off
4. she calls the guy: i think i'm pregnant
5. he's a british citizen
  6. she's a russian citizen
7. she becomes schizophrenic
8. she ***** his school friend and lies
9. the school friend lies
          and the inquisitive one
    thinks he'll be taking a short-term effect
   l.s.d. herb of the amazon
10. he gets hurt
11. he sees an english psychiatrist
      and gets mis-diagnosed
12. he sees a polish neurologist who says:
13. anyone who thinks you're mentally
  ill, is mentally ill themselves.
now... probable
14. 30 years later, the scandal,
   she becomes a british citizen
  and sues according to some mutant version
of canadian law applied to british law...
but by
15. he has drank himself to an early grave,
while laughing - bungee!
     ich gebrochen gegen ein todesfee!
i bungeed into a banshee!
   (apologies if the german isn't correct.)

i can't believe a man can be intelligent, or a woman can be beautiful... i believe the two enter a harmony, of just plain difficulty; if only carrying pebbles was as difficult as climbing a mountain.

the subjectivity / objectivity "muddle",
  or rather the proximity of words
sharing a "neat" contort similis...
                 how similar are these two
words
    to allow a space-time continuum?
   based upon a prefix
                      with the remaining
harmony of spelling...
                                   a "muddle" of
congregating upon the basis of:
                                   *interjection...
       but i have to borrow from another
language the antithesis nouns
     and say... temat (subject)
                                 via rzecz (thing)...
              or if you prefer in german...
                       gegenstand... huh...
                gegen i.e. against:
                                        standing...
          as if there's an immediacy to be
attached to turning an inanimate thing
into a verb that becomes res extensa...
radical dualism can't be met with
radical monism in the observation
of the autism of petted felines,
         or the honing "device" of hawks?
i appreciate that some writers
require their mundane narrative
  the use of a thesaurus...
       you can see it...
   the dull lines with the odd extremity
of a borrowed word
          plucked from a peacock's tail...
   what is the kantian
  categorical impetus?
         probably a study of grammar...
after all...
                there's a noun category,
and there's a verb category...
        and there's the adjective-
that compensates for sheering
                          or sharpening knives.
my... english and the surds:
                  (g)nome
                                          and (k)nives...
    i will never get over the fact
that it's a form-proximity *******
   (draw a square, and then a rhombus)
while excluding the
                    accent prefixes of
    -ject                                    -ject
       (sub-)                                      (ob-)...
it has to be a form of abstracted
claustrophobia being argued...
            am i wrong in stating that
current darwinism is much less biology,
and more zoology
    in terms of writing "a" history?
        i can compensate feeling good
about myself having decided:
     what's the difference between
marxism and darwinism?
        don't know: ask **** similis
who forgot the sapiens.

Manche Wörter springen nackt
aus den Mündern ihrer Besitzer
tanzen auf Fingerspitzen
treten gegen Schienbeine

oder flattern davon
ungehört
wie ein obdachloser Straßenschmetterling

Die Tage reihen sich,
in zu schneller Abfolge,
in zu vielen Reihenfolgen
Aneinander, auseinander
zu Löchern in meinem Kopf.

Eindrücke verschwimmen und verwischen,
Farben und Gesichter vermischen sich
Der Regenbogen am Himmel gestern ist heute schon weiß.
Ein Spektrum umgekehrt.
Namen sind Laute geworfen gegen den Wind,
gerade noch gesprochen und schon sind sie verflogen.
Wer warst du und wann
warst du gewesen?
Ich weiß nicht mehr wer ich war,
zu welcher Zeit an welchem Ort.

Weißt du,
ich spreche vom Ende der Zeit,
praktisch,
du von ihrer Unerreichbarkeit,
herrlich
Wer waren wir gewesen?

Gerade noch erlebt,
gerade noch gelebt
und schon sind wir vergangen,
so bleiben wir,
vergessen.

Endlich.

.i can't believe a man can be intelligent, or a woman can be beautiful... i believe the two enter a harmony, of just plain difficulty; if only carrying pebbles was as difficult as climbing a mountain.

the subjectivity / objectivity "muddle",
  or rather the proximity of words
sharing a "neat" contort similis...
                 how similar are these two
words
    to allow a space-time continuum?
   based upon a prefix
                      with the remaining
harmony of spelling...
                                   a "muddle" of
congregating upon the basis of:
                                   interjection...
       but i have to borrow from another
language the antithesis nouns
     and say... temat (subject)
                                 via rzecz (thing)...
              or if you prefer in german...
                       gegenstand... huh...
                gegen i.e. against:
                                        standing...
  ­        as if there's an immediacy to be
attached to turning an inanimate thing
into a verb that becomes res extensa...
radical dualism can't be met with
radical monism in the observation
of the autism of petted felines,
         or the honing "device" of hawks?
i appreciate that some writers
require their mundane narrative
  the use of a thesaurus...
       you can see it...
   the dull lines with the odd extremity
of a borrowed word
          plucked from a peacock's tail...
   what is the kantian
  categorical impetus?
         probably a study of grammar...
after all...
                there's a noun category,
and there's a verb category...
        and there's the adjective-
that compensates for sheering
                          or sharpening knives.
my... english and the surds:
                  (g)nome
                                ­          and (k)nives...
    i will never get over the fact
that it's a form-proximity *******
   (draw a square, and then a rhombus)
while excluding the
                    accent prefixes of
    -ject                                    -ject
       (sub-)                                      (ob-)...
it has to be a form of abstracted
claustrophobia being argued...
            am i wrong in stating that
current darwinism is much less biology,
and more zoology
    in terms of writing "a" history?
        i can compensate feeling good
about myself having decided:
     what's the difference between
marxism and darwinism?
        don't know: ask **** similis
who forgot the sapiens.
_________
was it ever going to be problem
for the anglo-saxons of h'american
to forget the anglo-saxon tropes
of england?

                   not really...

   i still try to forge a forget tactic...
if my grandparents were no alive
in Poland, right about now?
i like keeping the native tongue
out of principle, even if i do not have
anyone to speak it with,
i'm just gagging for the disintegration
period where i will not be able
to speak it to anyone,
but, rather, keep it for myself...

     like, how can i relate humor
to the anglo-saxons, "these days"?
one word...
               cabbages...
every walk into a house that
has the odour of cabbage,
being boilded?
                  cabbage...
well... if the irish are associated
with potatoes...
mind you... how do you arrive
at *****? fermenting potatoes...
cabbage, a great, quasi-english joke....
fantastic among the pakistanis!
coleslaw... hmm...
  maybe the french shouldn't
have invented their various creams...
or... why not experiment akin
to champagne...
with the turks using sauerkraut
in building up a doner kebab?!

is cabbage such an ugly veg
for the middle eastern camel jockeys?!
last time i learned...
  black cardamom stinks of
worse things than horse-****!
see me complain?
   miss guru boppy-woolie-oud?
           i agree. cabbage isn't,
spectacular...
meet me halfway...
    but if you haven't appreciated
sauerkraut... to cut through the fat
of lamb meat on a kebab?
  might as well drink camel / chimp ****
pretending it's a stale variant
of beer, or lemonade.

   a woman is never ugly, or beautiful...
she's only neglected...
an intelligent man?
     well...
               he's either having a discussion,
or, he isn't having one...
i hate this current year ******* of:
but it's my opinion!
       true... so why be so defensive,
as to not put it against
a dialectical scrutiny?
    sure... it's "your" opinion...
as much as it's your "opinion"...
but only when given up unto
a dialectic "investigation"...
oh, don't worry... this would never be,
this would never be a forensic-esque
investigation...
         after all, "your" opinions
do matter,
     but... you're scared,
you're scared that upon a dialectic
scrutiny, you would...
change your opinions,
or, worse! you would,
no longer, fathom a rhetorical
dynamic momentum,
to continue to spew your,
   "protected" status beliefs like some
******* orangutan!
that's the real fear... the fear of subjecting
your beliefs to a dialectic,
divorcing your beliefs from
a rhetorical momentum!
        what shallow fears:
in plain sight!

                           i love it!
under-interjection (sub-)
               over-interjection (ob-)...
           no one ever said subjectivity
was a negative connotation...
      of expression... after all...
what objective facts did either
Leucippus and Democritus possess?!
none! they leveraged themselves
upon a hunch, a subjectivity,
        a "superstition"...
      there could never be any
objective proof of atoms in their time...

objectivity works, once there are
demonstrable proofs,
   in that, objectivity works...
    as an orthodoxy...
            a defence "mechanism"...
       but subjectivity: being subjected
to the existence of atoms,
rather than, objecting, to the existence
of atoms...
    subjectivity is the vector **** pursuit
of exploration!
   how can objectivity find itself
superior, when, in the current, year,
it's merely a regurgitation stratum?
"objectively speaking":
what? regurgitating facts?
encyclopedic "knowledge"?
       trivia on t.v., pub quizes?!

               on a whim, with a hunch...
the atoms were prostulated...
   and there was no objective proof for their
existence!
objectivity is dogmatism...
        it's a Hoover Dam of realism...
but sure as **** it's not a *******
propeller!
                 *******'s worth of
                      the objectivity priesthood!

that's why i'm not a champion of objectivity,
or a fan, with that regard...
            as much as thinking
is caged by objects and object to object
interaction...
   what a desert of a reality...
             how much can be gained
from feeling...
to finally endeavour oneself with
the capacity of the heart,
           since: given the so pre-occupied
state of the mind...
bound to the pickle-jar of tsar peter the great...
like some abnormal abortion
bound to the confines of the Kunstkamera.

you know who i hate the most?
science fans...
   no, not science fiction fans...
science fans... people who never had
to labour through organic chemistry
electron migration diagrams...
             i hate these people...
                 without a passion...
just a bland disdain...
         objectivity this! objectivity that!
subjectivity is: X...
                 eh?! but subjectivity is also: Y!

**** it... (imaginary) bartender!
                               another whiskey!