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Del Maximo Feb 2010
to sit on the lawn
outside on a bright Spring day
trade winds softly breeze
endless cerulean skies
the vibes of a live brass band

dark skinned Hawaiians
white marching band uniforms
a curious sight
ah...but the sounds are soothing
wafting warmly through the air

relax and enjoy
look around, drink it all in
think of nothing else
feel the music through your bones
close your eyes and flow with it

Del Maximo
(c) February 5, 2009
On the same island but in a completely different world;
Where the ocean is your own;
Where the snapping of cameras, and the shouts of "Oh look a turtle"
Are non-existent.

A family has been our friends for years,
a beach house they were letting us use,
just one week twice in the year,
Since a child I played through the years,
The old house close to shore.

Tutu came to enjoy Halloween with us,
And on my birthday we built tiny Hawaiian style leaf huts;
So many memories in this lovely place,
I always smile when I hear the name.

My sister's Halloween birthday;
a spooky event that we all look forward to;
hanging black bats,
orange and black banners stream beautifully through the air,
a moldy old witch's broom lay in the corner of the room.
school friends, brothers of sisters, parents, animals,
they all gather and enjoy this Halloween with us.

costume contests are never dull,
and when we all get into it,
we don’t care who the winner is.

Foggy gray smoke rises as we prep the smoldering coals,
Mom, tutu, and the girls get fluffy marshmallows,
chocolate, and gram crackers.

Boys are now men as they tirelessly shovel sand
and haul chairs for the fire,
just like old Hawaiians we sat, ate, danced to music,
and laughed the night away.

When the moon set, and the period of twilight was upon us;
It was prank warfare for the boys,
and though our army was weaker,
less in number, less intelligent, and had less to work with,
We would emerge victorious, even if the girls dominated the night,
with whip cream, and smoke bombs,
we took the back the morning with
jump scares, and frozen clothes
...
After that,we inevitably lost.

The beach,
so beautiful with its silvery blue waves,
dad says
"eh bradas, why you not in da ocean, riding the waves"
and we all dash to the shore sand flying on the people running behind us,
until I hear a shrill shriek behind us,
"da man-o-wars brah, de got my sista"
the almost clear blue bubble with a royal blue tail spanning 3 feet long,
it wrapped around her leg,
scrambled, like the golden brown egg I had that morning,
that was the only way I could describe how quickly
I ran the pull that sucker off,
and apparently the man-o-war wanted to play tug-o-war,
after a minute of pulling, it was off,
my sister,
sobbing while my dad disinfected the sting.

So many good times I've had at this place,
this brown, multi-roomed, stone tiled beach house,
It really is, my home away from home.
I wrote this poem about a beach house my family was allowed to use twice in a year to throw parties and relax in, I grew up knowing how special this place was, and how close I kept it to my heart.
life nomadic Jan 2013
Rising before instinct completes my sleep, rousing common sense out of bed,
I pack the car.  It's so dark the moon is still drowsing.
Soon I am in the cool ocean, arms propelling me and a surfboard,
stomach submerged and chest free through white water splashes,
then crests breaking, then up and over their shoulders
to arrive at the very place where waves emerge from calm water.

At this hour there are only a handful of other dawn-patrol surfers, all Hawaiians.
Greeting with a smile of bright grace learned from the sun, and a cheerful How'z It?
brown glowing skin tattooed with small triangle patterns on strong arms, chests, backs,
emblems of kama'aina heritage and Aloha's honor.  
A little talk story, sharing a laugh, and I sit up to take sentinal,
beginning the quiet meditation
searching the horizon for the sea's ever-changing intention.

Morning wakes color, with sleepy palms rubs away the world's hushed gray veil
revealing sky blue on royal aquamarine and palm-tree green silhouetting tropical canyon jade.
The mountain's gold-rimmed halo of mist is announcing dawn's imminent arrival.
She bursts over the ridge, arms showering the water with tiny pebbles of light
gold jewels skipping across the sparkling surface and turning silver.

It must be so beautifully curious from below, the whale's eye view here in their sanctuary.
First we see a mysterious dark shape, a nose, that morphs into an ever-expanding building,
that materializes into the entire magnificent whale suspended in our thin world
then arching over, she bursts the water, scattering dawn's sparkling treasure.

We surfers call with uncharacteristic exclamations, pointing in excitement,
So close we can feel the whale's contagious joy.
One Hawaiian woman slides off her board, to place her ear on the water in reverie;
hearing the Kahunas ancient Aumakua call.
.
.
Copyright © 2013 Anna Honda. All Rights Reserved.
Johnny Noiπ Nov 2018
Over the past few years, white and red, black,
white and black. I work for a long time. But
Bernard's war, civil war, war with Russia, Russia,
Russia, Russia, Russia and other countries.
Kenya, Uganda, pigs, dogs, women and adults
are good. Dreams, dreams, dreams and goals
are reflected in the world. Hawaiians are present
today in Paris, Austria, Honduras and Ireland.
It is a weak helper who helps the user to listen
to the sponsor. The first company received
the name 100% and full of fire, Isaac answered:
"They do not understand and do not get upset."
This rule should apply to all court cases. Damage
to dust and particles changes the red-eye effect.
The best libraries in Russia, Russia, Russia
and Russia are two people for long distances,
two people and three people. Kenya,
American women over 60 years old.
Monkeys and Christians and Armstrong's fauna
represent the gods of Austria, Italy, Ireland,
stars, and the gods of all gods of Austria.
do not go. Belgium is wrong. Changes in the node
and change of paper-in-law. Dogs: For more
information about the editor, see: Healthy box
with a yellow child. Aaron Illustus 1. In recent
years white, red and white. We work for a long time.
This work - Russia, Russia, Russia, Russia,
Russia, Russia and France, as well as the secular war.
Kenya, Uganda, pigs, cats, adults, differences
and taxpayers. Austria is now a paradise,
and today people in Honduras and Ireland
are today called Hawaiian. Many users
can listen to Spanish. First of all, I would
like to remind you about the jungle
and I am above them. Look at Isaac. The groom
grew and lifted him up. Try now. You must
register your mobile phone. Dust, pesticides,
foreign textbooks are different. For three years
I have been proud of all the red bodies
and far east of Russia, over 60 women,
especially women who have lived in Kenya
for over 10 years, in women aborigines'
social organizations, especially in Austria,
Italy, and Old America and Kenya.
"They do not like anything, they do not
like anything, they do not like anything,
they're big snakes." Some publishers
have found jungles in Russia, Russia,
Northeast Asia, and Eastern Europe.
140,041.2 thousand People (200 bears,
Moscow, languages, authorities) Sunlight
Recently, ******, white, light wars,
Russia, Russia, Russia and other regions
of Kenya, Uganda, were very interesting
to other people's lives.
Denxai Mcmillon Aug 2015
To the Hawaiians,
the turtle
represents long life.
The necklace pressed to my chest feels like it's mocking me
Telling me to live
When I wish I was dead.
Rina Vana May 2016
crimson vibrations thread the silk song of pink flesh making love to strings of nickel
the crumbling of bark is comforted by the crackling of a cardinal’s hues
time is white like egg shells fresh with feathers
a face of determination lost in the depth of a temporary frustration
attempting to unearth a solid floor for exploration
the trembling question,
can it really happen?
could we build a home from elmer’s glue and a muted microphone?
fluorescent minds dance in smoke rings like Hawaiians
his eyes bleed wine,
and we find ourselves alone with the bittersweet night
Boy! quills were flying this morning. I guess
both David and I woke up on the wrong side of the bed
We were both fussing at each other. We had planned an
early morning trip to the beach and had not had our
liberating cup of morning coffee.
After a while we became more aware and worked on
being sweeter to each other.

As we headed to Coconut Point Beach in Melbourne, Fl, past
the Sandy shoes Hotel,
I thought about what my sister said last night
as I gave her a deep foot massage.

"We, as divine beings are creating everything.
Our experiences are a manifestation of our
thoughts, feelings and actions.
Even scientists are realizing
that there really isn’t anything out there.
It is all a projection of consciousness.
An impermanent motion picture that we get
caught up in and accept as real."

David and I held hands as we walked
along the magnificent shoreline,
gentle waves threw phosphorescent kisses over our feet,
pelicans glided through the gorgeous blue skies.

David stooped to pick up some unusual shells scattered across the
beach. “Look, Sonya… pukalani shells, you don’t see these too often
they have natural holes at the top.  Hawaiians make necklaces
out of these of shells.

I smiled gathering more shells, turning towards the ocean,
the warm amber sun reached out to hug us.
"Yes", I  said to David, “We are like golden spiders
creating a web of happiness or sadness.
It’s all up to us. We just have to remember.”
Brian Pickering Feb 2017
Sartorial

Not always conformed, to what was expected of me,
The sixties and seventies, exciting times, not what the older generation, thought it should be,
Sample new pleasures, sometimes on a whim,
New music, new stimulants, often, not what it said on the tin,

Dress code were informal, and often quite extreme,
Highly coloured loon pants, that the older folk, had never seen,
Time progressed, matured, and subdued was the order of the day,
Dark blue socks, pin striped suits, and some, a very, very drab grey,

Time sped on, identity gone, I tired of life conformity,
I’m a full grown man, so I hatched a plan, for my own, self autonomy,
I started with the socks, with colours so bright, I always knew where my feet were,
Like beacons in the night, a luminous sight, my feet, a pyrotechnical blur,
A very useful guide, when you’re totally pie-eyed, to know your feet, were still on the ground, beneath you,
If they were at shoulder height, there’s a good chance you’re tight, that things had gone, totally askew,
Panicked thoughts do abound, I shouldn’t be this way around, whilst a gentle thud is the sound, of your ****, as it’s striking the ground.

Ah the shirt, a statement, a provocative trait, with designs, you either love, or you hate,
The shirt is the thing, that should make every man sing, at the prospect of projecting an image,
Hawaiians are brash, the colours do clash, but you’re starting a new age, the old one to trash
Your identity is born, let the old identity mourn, be extravagant with colour, be flamboyant,
Burn the beige and grey, stand up and say hey, my colourful image, is my enjoyment.

Parrots and cars, palm trees and bars, and shirts with multi-coloured stars,
Brightly coloured sneakers, baggy shorts that features, a perfectly monstrous clash,
With your new image to go, step out and throw, your wavering confidence away,
Treat people with humour, especially those who are gloomier, and brush away that awful cliché,

Some people may think, it’s OK to link, dislike of your choice,
for unkind remarks, to voice,
Accept it as is, it can make you annoyed, but it’s only a mark of their schadenfreude,
To combat this, it’s absolute bliss, to give them the finger, then slowly depart, don’t linger.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2022
title: beetroot
body:
red: pulpit:
sclera:
avoidance white.

bellum contra influenza usus frigus:
war against the flu using the cold...
   sure, even Socrates famously meditated in the cold...
i only had one meditation this time round:
get me... of this weak-bed! get me off it!
i'm not going to be weak when spring comes!
more cold! give me a hailstorm!
                     i'll cure myself using cold weather!


you get sick for about 5 days, it's really rough,
you test positive for Covid... but it's not Covid...
it's just this freak flu... your bones ache,
your muscles ache... you're lethargic...
you're ****** with yourself that you're so weak...
but you still go and do two grueling shifts
at Wembley... strange April cold... the wind is
bothering you... but...
    that's how the cold helps...
   sure, taking a mixture of paracetamol 500mg),
promethazine hydrochloride (10mg),
dextromethorphan hydrobromide (7.5mg)
does help... but nothing helps against a cold...
or the flu... as... doing a grueling shift of standing on
your feet for about 10 hours, getting bashed
by the wind gusts... the rain...
          it sort of reminded me of that saying:
fight fire with fire... well... fight the flu / a cold...
with more cold...
      it worked... i ploughed through...
the muscle aches are gone, the bone pains are gone...
the lethargy is gone...
i was cooking again today... making my father lunch...
i can't wait for tomorrow...
i'll be working in the garden un-******* all
the wooden decking, peering inside at the rot...
before a patio is going to be installed...
   wood... eh... it lasts a good decent decade...
   that's going to change...
hell... 3 days... 4 days of feeling ****...
   but if the medication isn't working...
         time for something ancient...
              find the bug with... cold weather...
                  more pressure... more pressure... more!
10 hours standing coordinating people...
3 hours on a bicycle feels like less strain than standing
up like a soldier at an unknown soldier's memorial...
no one some of them drop down from exhaustion...
your arms - shoulders are strained...
pompous ******* role...
                  but i appreciate this is unimaginative
writing... it really is... i have still retained the blocked
nose and the cough...
as the saying goes... an untreated cough and blocked
nose lasts 14 days...
a treated cough and block nose lasts 2 weeks...
you heard me correctly... it's unavoidable...
but pulverise this little **** in me that's hitchhiking
with conditions unsuitable for it...
let some bigger virus scare it...
                       and to think: sometimes i'd look forward
to sitting down with a bottle of whiskey
and scribbling anything down...
now... i'm thinking about Sunday...
   and whoever West Ham are playing...
                   about going among people and playing
my role as the serious silent type...
surrounded by people who... as of yet...
haven't talked much at work except for work...
no chance of talking about... anything... really...
i dare say: Heidegger's hammer is  bad joke...
could i talk to someone about philosophical matters
on the job? hell... music... could we talk about music?
could a ******* wheel of a car "talk"
about the temperature of the road at noon in June?
to... the car's engine... hyperbolic language...
i'm still not ready to return to being fully possessed
of my mind... but my senses are more focused...

- and its like these moments when recovering from
an illness that might shave off a decent proportion
of the population in their 80s...
if i didn't go into the cold... and instead...
cowered in my bed sheets... in the warmth:
perfecting breeding ground for this little bug to
build up a collective ego... a refocus...
     but why do i write this? i'm comforted by the existence
of tabloid journalism...
sure... i'm using up the energy of a light-bulb to
scribble this down... but i'm not chopping down
a tree to make some paper...
          why does a song like British Warm by
Normil Hawaiians have only 2.2K views...
what am i going to do with my time?
watch t.v.? i like drinking and looking into the distance...
at shadows... at trees without leaves...
at brick walls... perching on a windowsill...
smoking a cigarette... scribbling...
    i literally having nothing better to do...
it's not even that those respected poets on
poetry-foundation.org are anything to go by...
so politicised...
                sure... perhaps this is a waste of time...
but at least i'm not watching t.v.:
just this blank screen upon which words appear
from my itchy finger tips... i scratch my head:
try not to think...
        i take comfort in not being married...
it's only sinking in: right about now...
   if i think about having to keep dates... dinner dates...
keeping conversation with "friends"...
last time i tried that... i ws ushered off into the gutter...
he brought out a pretend violin:
brushing it all off... i know he too had problems...
i was willing to listen... but he wasn't willing
to talk... right there and then... i thought: **** it...
i'm not willing to meet up and watch movies
with you, while you smoke marijuana and i drink
a beer... i raised my hands high up in the air...
and then dropped them down: crescendo style...
an expression of: c'est la vie!
at this point... i don't think it would be:
even remotely... a good idea to have friends...
what... when an hour with a *******
suffices?! now i'm like... talk... about what?!
i can exercise my needs on this canvas...
                and i'm happy with that...
                        well... if not happy: then certainly
not sad... i'll go see ol' Thames at Coldharbour -
or at Putney Bridge...
  i'll go into Bower Wood and say hello
to the forest by knocking a firm branch against
a pillar of a dead tree...
                       if only this climate could allow
living off of pine-nuts and other such gatherings...
i think i would...
   society doesn't phase me...
                        
the world continues to do its little spin on and off of
crazy... i tried watching the first 30 minutes
of... about 4 different movies...
pretty woman, four weddings and a funeral,
Notting Hill... some other...
instead tuned into the tennis at the Miami ATP...
that too started to bore me...
i was thinking about the next shift...
doing... **** all... beside...
putting on a mask and pretending to be nice,
pretending to be polite to spectators...
bouncing around their enthusiasm...
      it's not even like i don't care:
but i just don't care about the sort of care they think
i might provide...
i care about what i'm willing to give...
rather than what they might receive...
clearly... i'm fooling them...
since... eh... long story...

                          but at least this is not the tabloid press...
i'm "bored" of living with people
of grandiose self-importance syndromes...
just give me a ******* drill... some decks to unscrew...
stack them high... stack them low...
the best health is found bound
to interacting with people one day...
and a day... say... spent... chopping wood...
dealing with inanimate objects...
you can't mould these: esp. if you're trying to salvage
them... and then... return to animate objects...
people... the sanctity of silence...
why... would i be talkative about work
when i'm doing it?
              sorry... what sort of ******* is necessary
to mingle, "correctly"?

                    i figured... as long as you're not at work
trying to waste someone's time... that's enough...
do what you're supposed to do and... *******...
and my ****** mistake...
of fancying a girl who started working...
i played a tight game...
            liars don't walk on stilts...
                        what a waste of a homemade wine...
i should have drank that...
since i made it...
                   tough... well... one less spell of dandruff...
so... a win... considering i still managed
to find the best **** i was searching for for the past
14 years... yawn...
but at least! at least: no chance of a #metoo backlash...
yawn...

         scribble so more... well... i'm hardly built
for writing a Dr. Zhivago... honestly?
the film was spectacular... the book?
                                  honestly? well obviously i'm not
looking for Sveedish applause towards a Nobel...
am i? but the book? compared to the movie?
sort of falls short...

most of the time when surrounded by people:
it's so comforting to be around yourself...
being solaced by an apron of silence...
when you talk with only grimaces...
you hold sway with non-verbal cues...
     it's so comforting to not talk when you're
otherwise prompted to talk and
you're like: huh?!

i look at it from a lens...
a lot of 1960s American culture... the whole
state of Israel wouldn't have happened...
if the Holocaust didn't take place...
crude, rude... the world keeps knocking at my door
and i'm like:
and what the **** do you want?
what ****** liberation? what great / grand
awakening?
i'm scribbling toward 12am to subsequently
fall asleep to... listening to...
le chant des templiers... because...
i don't have a wife: because i can...

                     i like the idea of a wife...
but... the chains of being perpetually needed...
to have this persistent call for company...
it's sort of... itchy... always having to need
someone... what great new upheaval will /
might generate a mighty cultural influx of
creativity... and then the outlier that
always come late to the "party"...
the Sons of Sam... etc.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2023
on the edge of etch: letters appear but disappear
without sound -
       tumultus origins of English, as a tongue,
later a people: a letter to the people -
outsourcing the orthodox passing of meaning
without hieroglyphs -
as the Polynesians did for almost six thousand
years when they set off without horses:
or rather with the horses of waves and the winds
across the great plateau of the Pacific ocean...

zahn schleifen liebe: tooth grinding love

       'ōlelo:                 word (language)

palapala:                       letter

          kani:                   sound

face:            maka

            ki'i:                         image

huikau: hybrid:         hiatus of haikus...

on the edge of an etch - apostrophes aplenty and
like reimagining Hawaiian as English
with two consonants: but'ter
            plo'tter - no, not plot'ter

per time: manawa: rather manava -
and Minerva: time spent executing an Olson typography
oh how apostrophes '
      fell to the earth of the linear winding of meaning
in sentences and became punctuation marks
of words in paragraphs rather than poetic cascades
of line: anew...

       J          'ot         down on the edge:
              Ed-ward googled his own name,
some Edward, ed-gear: but that's the eDGe
   i.e. by sound dictation: shion... dicta-shion
   Ej
                        jacket ej

     as with etch:             the visible T yet not really
uttered, sort of bypassed, and heart drowning in
clearly: English is prone to dyslexic fancies
because clearly some letters submerge...

   four tao's of the thai tau:

         the ouroborus no longer eating itself...

                                    T
                                 T † T
                                    T

or perhaps to ask Andrew and the Edinburgh Greeks:

                                 T. T
                                   X
                                T.   T

i can say much more about Edinburgh than Dublin,
safe to say: concerning these two cities
of the former a bad case of trainspotting
and low tides of culture -
   while Dublin, markedly not on the maps
of meaning of the one map that is the Union Jack(et)
since... the Irish did not fare well
with flags associated to cross-bearing marches
across the desert...

               that is i on the guillotine that's ι -
i hardly think it was a common courtesy of the romans
to go all out spectacular for an added head
recliner upon reaching Golgotha:

     how † was actually a T - because that year
it was even cold in Jerusalem so extra firewood was
needed...
and once the deed was done you think that
they didn't use the crosses for fuel in the garrison?
i can just imagine the incense of blood soaked wood
enraging the nostrils of the centurions...

truly, as i were there: in ghost...
      
   ah... only yesterday i picked up a revised hunger
for *******:
hence the zahnschleifenliebe...
   because i have already buckled on loving her
by grinding my front teeth to the point
of chipping one of them...

teeth like butter-softness
   niho niho: no plural? how about
tooth is niho and teeth are nihi?
   so much for a people talking but not writing...
can you imagine: is the nouns became bankrupt
i.e. if someone forgot the name
of a name, so that the word mea - thing was conjured?

what's a waapa?          a boat? not a wa'apa?

oh 'a'ohe mea -              yesthing for nothing
that's ae'              a'ole        no yes no no yes yes no
oh nothing, nothing...

        'olu'olu 'a'ohe mea: sweet nothing -
for a something: kekahi mea...

tribunal of pirates and vagabond burping barbarians:
yes, no word for wig...
kāpiki - cabbage - kapusta in ****** -
who helped conjure up an anti-etymology
for the Hawaiians?      'ōlelo as distinct from
kanaka - a language but not the people...

   kai kanaka - sea people...

'ōmato               (potato)
                  'ūala         (tomato)        

potato toe: manamana wāwae 'ūala
although it is not an assurance to conjure a translation
in that order: and not toe potato...
which would imply: french fries, no?
chips...

            mahina: that is moon and machinery
maszyna - to imply the tides were settled in the minds
and the moon was the machine behind
the phenomenon?
i clearly must be looking at something akin
to cross pollination, etymologically speaking...

you take a word from greek and fuse it with
latin then sprinkle some german or dutch
onto it and you arrive at English...
   not always... greek for orthodoxy still intact
with words like etymology, lexicon and:
well obviously little differences from the original
but most still intact...

talofa! foliga fiafia!
that would be me, being dragged out of darkness
of bad dreams falling out of bed talking
to someone in my sleep...
don't ask me how or for that matter why:

                          is                                      is

two ises ensure that there isn't an isn't...
             or at least that's how it might feel for
a Japanese samu samu rai rai
    visiting these islands...
comparatively an Englishman in Lithuania...
or Latvia...
                      moderately compared cultural differences...
    how will
i ever return to those islands and that Lā

                 to the place where a syllable has meaning
or rather a noun status...
ther-                  thermometer...
one moment less: per tier of integer           mother's
ether...

                             Fern...   ꟻ labours with Theta at
taught thought fabulously... by speaking first...
then listening, then observing, finally scribbling
sound-encoding to reach meaning (:expansive)

because i had to watch ******* yesterday
  because pleasing myself using pictures of you is
like trying to scratch an itch that soon becomes
something either artistic or philosophical...
artistically philosophical: an aesthetic...
that's the meaning of aesthetics:  
                  
i perceive AIS -          eyes
    thes-pain                   thespian
                                              the theta i see...
a letter that became a cheese that became...
surely from the Medieval ages onwards
   it was well established that gold was not really worth
what it was supposedly worth...
since the end of the wooden wheel...
    rubber... rubber and salt... to preserve the meats
to give us culinary ambitions...
                        rubber, salt, morphine, love

and money: to get out of each other's way...
i like money as a concept and as a practicality...
to get out of each other's way...
     and yet to somehow make this life bearable...
money: as means of getting out of each other's way...

ah but still, love... that challenging aspect of life,
for a wish to not write about it,
yet still, unbearably writing about it,
covertly, like so.
i was always so jealous of the small response
teams in the security industry
these former bullies and men of violence of youth
who actually matured into stable individuals
i know of my son Cain
i see my son Cain being the sensible man
who can control violence
as i see god's son Abel
in the world too:
with the idea of meat
my son was a vegan
perhaps sometimes a shy vegetarian
i see Cain because there came violence
who is god
i ask asking Abel
i am sitting side by side with Cain
i am at his bidding
and i have sight
in the crowd
herding them like a crude Moses
and when people see themselves herded
into cages and what not
without the freedom of the road
i saw myself
as the only person
the Charon of Auschwitz
i was the Charon of Auschwitz destroyed
by the Marbles of Lament
and i implore you dearly:
have my bed Edie and Ray
how to correct that spelling
dearest
if they call you Eddy...
i say Edith you are my Edith
and the problem is sorted
let me tell you
for so many centuries
you have to believe
that not all people are literate
they are plagiarism pagan demon monkeys
from the subcontinent of India
and 99% of China don't know: REED from READ
and READ as i RED
i ams REDS
had a stressful day at work
and wanted to talk to both you girls
and i shared Da Vinci with Ray
and Edith i did tell you
that the only bi- in me is the lingual
it's not polar nor is it ***
yes i want to have ***
because i want to have... THAT
conversation with you
that no ******* telephone numb
and custard pie
can do to clown around with
a long distance relationship....
i drank 70cl of ***** last night and was in amok
i @accidently@ poured some candle wax
onto my groin
onto my shorts
i woke up as if hallucinating having read
about Huxley religion and mushroom or cactus
doesn't matter:
like watching venus **** of a "flower"
eat a ******* spider...
just you know:
the world of circumcised men
the agony
i seem to think carpets and the Arabs
and diamonds when i came to the come of
thinking about my Iran
like the Anglo-Saxon: my Africa...
well... we are broken into stages of history
and like the Hawaiians can trace their roots
back to Taiwan
and the Malay...
i can trance the origins of the Polacks
the Westerner Slavs of Asia
to... Iran: unlike **** Germany
it's like the Germans have a fetish for Polish thought
i mean the Polish thought
philosophy it's not pop
it trickles into England via Germany...
i thought i might take a step into the glass shadow
and find a mirror of fire...
Lady Catharsis

i paint: i see letters but there's a painting
JINN:
i see Dune and Islam as once
the former Envy of Europe
O Europe you were so envious of this Empire
of the Moon...
and see for yourself the Empire of the Black Sun
and you are Christianity:
the Empire of the Black Sun
for only the Pagans Celebrate the Sun
and moan and ***** at the sun and feel
the frenzy of the heat
but you monotheistic people are of
the caves
you are the remains of the neanderthals
you monotheists
your ways of cutting the foreskins of males
and giving them a frenzy
if you cut those skins before battle!
but in times of peace?!
you are all idiots!

imagine cutting those skins off before marriage
and slavery to the woman
you are my brothers
but you are over excited
i am not coming
but you literally are the Lost Gene Tribe Project
monotheism was a tool but
the world is still halfway bite of a rainbow...

i drank so i could cry or dance on my knees
to a song...
and the cats are not scared of me
i have one sitting on my windowsill breathing
in the air...
the mirage faded sobering presence of the Other
took over and it was an animal
i believe someone a story
about "God" when he ****** me
Moses only wrote of how he removed my limbs
so i couldn't walk anymore
but he didn't tell you
what i did to God for my punishment
i doubled it
i licked off or perhaps asked some other creature
to rid me of my eyelids
and that's how i took revenge on man
by spreading the lie that the men
should be circumcised religiously
but not like:
how Poland Communism
2nd World War
rebuilding mechanism
the Special Time Frame
where Communism worked
like it could have worked in Syria
but there was no good management

i said if god will punish me
then i will punish myself
and have no eyelids
and i will walk dreams and have insomnia
and then what will happen
a portion of humanity will do to their
***** like i did to my socks
(sockets)...

              because as much as there is intelligence
in this world:
there is a sea of narrations
a river of knowledge
              and pebbles of idea(s)...

                 so i was jealous of the response teams
who are five men to 1 drunk:
5:1 and they haven't measured their use of force
they attract too much attention
when i am part of a response team
and i have 5 wings
we usually play optical chess with a person
i am vocal and there are no kings
queens bishops or knights
we march as one as pawns
and there's something to breathe in the air
and something to eat in the seas
however nightmarish it looks
all reveals itself in a chocolate ****...

the conversation we had and mum
and Quarus darling
"animals either fear drunks or mundurowców"
animals either fear drunks
or those of the officer class of man
and there is an officer class of man
i am an officer of humanity
i am the poet the scribbler i'm not a performer
i'm part historian part anti-journalistic wagey...
a newspaper man
you know how i got rid of wax
i poured in the direction of my **** and *****?
warm iron
no water
a black & white newspaper
no colour...
over the wound of the wax on shorts
and the wax sticks to the paper
like gets ****** up
but my father father is also a kind of Me
and Joseph
but my cats aren't scared of me:
people are scared of me...

there's a beast and i can feel the metallic intellect
behind it
it's not human per se
it's not animal
but it's operated by a neanderthal
the internet
and monotheism is being operated by
circumcised neanderthals
circumcised neanderthals
circumcised neanderthals
but i only wanted to move the cat from
the windowsill so i could relax with
a cigarette rolled with hemp paper
from Spain and no filters when rolling
trying to understand alcohol via Christianity
but i can't seem to get around the magic
how Christ crowd control dynamism
feeding the 5K worked out
because it was like.... Glastonbury
and people don't really think of feeding the 5K
scenario like a modern rave party in a muddy field...
circumcised neanderthal party magic...
with a stone for a heart:
no wait...
                         ha ha               ha ha!

so the Hawaiians know they are the Anti-Mongols
the sea wave:
i mean i just did a blow like wind
it was funny on the street
i am not part of response
i am crowd coordinator it was
stress seeing those barriers
and it only took me and 5 other guys who came late
to position
and i didn't scold them
i was like: guys... time management
they should have circumcised you when
you were about to go to war
not maybe... hmm...
that's why abortions are milkshakes
while retards can headbutt a woman in a swimming pool
and that's life celbrated:
how a ****** child of neanderthal cousin
******* in Pakistan can ah:
just happen...
if it was at least the Islam from Turkey
or Islam from Iran
but Islam from Pakistan should be eaten up
by the Hindus...
it is rot...
the Pakistani people should have
their ******* reduced to raisins and become
the Nations of Apostates and return to
the lowest caste in India even thought
lighter than the Indians
the Pakistanis should Repent and relieve themselves
of being an Islamic Nation:
i, therefore:
whoever i am: revoke the Pakistani membership in the Ummah
of Peoples of the Faith...
oh no... nothing legal... nothing real:
i just see Pakistanis are the brain child of
Dracula and Frankenstein:
when Dracula turned to drinking Zombie Blood
and became FRANCULA!
Pakistan is not an Islamic Peoples:
ti don't recognize them as such
but i also see
the Decadent Age of Islam and there's a short term
working terminology
because even wood: us... wonder:
the stone myrrh
                                      came the sobering invite
but there's nothing sober
or sane when you have to heave with voice
and my jealousy ends when dealing with isolated
incidents
and i could basically talk to the person
and there would be minimal "Jackie Chan"
where girls are leaving the shift
crying and i feel like rot
because what do i do?
i'm usually one man in a crowd
trying to coordinate thousands
and i still have time to isolate incidents and become
personal and talk to someone
without directing the water with a megaphone
but there needs to be an upheaval of where there's energy
in the workplace
and we can start with a pretend army
in the security industry
i was always jealous of my grandfather and father being
in the army
my uncle resigned himself from the concept
i joined the security industry
in 2021
CV momentum...
CV momentum: the human in my writing:
the realizing small
but the bigger picture is there:
i get it...
i don't know thought
but i get the dzist: jyst...

what i could get out of a single drunkard affair
with 5 guys using excess force
i can
move thousands of people with
only my voice
of my losing persuasion
by the simple stress reliever the resignation
of my voice
and that worked just fine
than those extra barriers
and the police being on my back
it was me and 5 guys
and me and the megaphone
but then "plans" came down because
someone wasn't doing their job
or just testing you:
but if i see myself tested before the mirror
of god
i don't need to understand
the word "image" as such
because it doesn't say: god created man
in his reflection: he wasn't talking about
the ****** Narcissus:
in his image:
i guess for man the closest word
replica of image is: idea:
but H. P. Lovec4raft... was 4right:
the gods don't have monkey faces...
we were created in god's image:
but not in god's reflection
we were born from the image:
the verb: imagine:
and thus we became ingenious and
had more than thoughts
burdening our consciousness
we had sparks of brilliance: we had ideas!

— The End —