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Julian Sep 2020
The Roulette of Fanfare by Imaginative Glare (A Cooperation of Timeless Synquest)
Sunken fortitude is the bailiwick of interminable eupathy that sustenance embezzles by minutiae of orange spectral linearity of bypass becoming a torus of tragic reprieve in repcrevel fashions of hyjamb. Thus we float above the carcass of syrts of certitude by cadasters of nostalgic drawls of malingering strawberry staddle for the scutage of pinhoked disaster. We renege on committed opalescence because tranquil dangles of vinsky are waged by trenchcoats of bluster for vector arrays of galvanized decorum that swirks for elegant synectics by dredged grains of agrarian sanity by the pleckigger of lopsided islands of creativity that are the notarikons of aleatory finite but equidistant largesse of not just a jumboism but a jetsetting travesty of traversed time mastered by ignoble ingenuity. I limn with piracy as a freebooter cordslave plugged by demitoilet reminders of the flyndresque alloreck of tinjesk spectral ultimatums that are the stretchgraves of a retrospective infinity that is a bystander to catapulted cohesive coherence found only in piecemeal culinary seditions against the drip of a turncock of roosted clarification in muted hindsights of foresight itself. The pleonexia of abeyance is the riddle of enigmatic promulgation that flickers even with partial compartmentalized servitude to the burlesque the burrows of an ophidiodiarium scare away any jaunty sleek car from the boosterism of a farmed collision with disjointed surgery of nimble reticence that braves the seismotic macadamized plutocracy of drift without sedition in sedimentary clairvoyance with a pointed amphigory that is actually a starved clarity for ommateums without spelunked trudges that occur in dovetails for disguise by synectic optimum at the zenith of the hive synergy of singularity.  The justified jest of aleatory flexes of finitude is a shambolic gesture of the limber of divergent interpretation ingeminating the world by sapient degrees of psychometry of divergence in piecemeal asseveration of the hindsight of the festooned not tepid or butchered by the obvious to the glaring cineaste but rather a gloaming glint of refracted ingenuity roosted beyond any alienesque erratic happenstance that is itself a beatific fortuity for the geotechnics of human emergence into supersensible planes traversed in a stereodimensional covenant with a compacted compost of DIVERGENT IMAGINATION OF CADASTER rather than the regelation of the obvious. Timmynoggies of cartels are regnant because of the repugnance of loyalty to the fricative frigates of superlunary mention of ratiocination divorced from husbandry of hyjamb for giant leaps in rigged ambsace maledictions of unfair pleckigger of the wrikpond relumed by huffs of impotent flairs of flambeaus beyond ecdysiast stretchgraves of perilous paralysis for the supererogatory of the accursed destruction of stoichomety of solipsism tremulous by biocentric levity above fastened redoubled pederasty. We maraud the rabble of nostalgia of rhinoplasty of penumbras that live on rainshod territorialism beyond the jolkers of everlasting foofaraw livid by betrayal but erratic in glamour without crackjaw costermongers vitiating the vociferous because of incumbent thermodynamics that affixes the stagnant to the latticework of riddle by sturdy integral derived fliphavens of shibboleths of solitude. Education is a fliction of robust derangement of nowhere men taxed by the celerity of traversed traipses of memory beyond encaged bridewells for recanted alchemy to prerogatives of the roomy expansive facsimiles of departed stigmas of bossy clairvoyance for martian glimpses at sunken waste. The bernaggles of brittle titanium are abrasive when they are alloyed with the compost of material dynamics of capital without avenged prediction cemented in sunken graves taxing the nostalgia of histrinkage that is affixed to boschveldt traindeque for venial consanguinity to dikephobia. We elevate the endpoints of abridged turriform clockwork provincial shibboleths that are the proctor and protectorate of insular robbery of crowned trounces of gravity for the gravitas of sepulchral vanity learned from famigeration of filial tithes of duty. A dutiful sedition is countermanded by the pews of turnstiles that enamor the enamel of rollercoasters because of vague vagaries of bedazzled contrition for wanton ambition on psaphonic psychology and therefore sustain the vibronic thrombosis of nonlethal inseminations of clear aqueous transfixed filigrees of demented notions of cheerful apocrypha of liturgical pride beyond the dungeons of prejudiced inquisition. The jolkers of insolent archipelagos of spinsters that levitate by parsed peril of delaminated parsecs of glazed parturition is the orchestra of a nonlinear grove of invented abecedarian witwanton notice of maddened cattle of gluttony forestalled by the clairvoyance of otiose operations of redoubled countenance that consequently is septiferous by degrees of sanguine rapacity the qwartion of endeared endeavor to surpass the gentility of brooked temperatures frozen to sustain but not mainline the congeners of the elective agenda to bypass the thornbushes of conflagration without knavery or cutthroat embellishments of bedlam. And without the din of simplicity occluding the transcendent goal of humane synoecy of fustilugs of fumatoriums endangered but not inflammed by controversy we witness the insubordinate university of hibernation becoming a specter of grisly bromidrosis of lackluster forswinked fortitude because the majestic sinew of the overwrought is a refrained luxuriance of pity of facetious glebes ringed around orbital planes of synthetic abridgement that supposes the sultry is actually the swelter of calenture but taxed by sicarians of the grandeval it meets no fanfare among elective privilege. Amphigory is not categorized as dross by shipwreck but only by synechdocial docility of groomed barren arcades of storged complication leading to regeneration of a world leaden with the epicurean epithets of agerasia that burden the wardens of poached intermission without remission because the drapes of the greatest art are thus created by the complete transfiguration of the soul bolted to ethereal expansive heights that dwarf all pithy gnomes of the gardens of prospective desiccation of the petty gripes of the gavel of idiocy rather than the astounding artform of the newfangled tabanids to supererogatory oceans of creativity. The benchmarks of sublime illusions of supremacy are a hidebound taxidermy of the rookery of greenhorns to summit the testy secrecy of inane drawl that scrabbles the miniature embellishments of petty sportive lunacy as a figment of the feral nature of proclivity recumbent upon its own gladdened prickly renegades that align with a gallywow cacophony rather than a merely epicene convergence of attitude for equity above polity that is hardly polite. As a penitent hibernal rejoinder against the clerical critics of religiosity becoming conflated with artistic masterworks of oligomania I offer my rogation for atonement because the melismatic art I fashion leads to the vogue enchantment of the noosphere for the soteriological bedrock of fastened intellectual endeavor that traverses planes of an engorged soul without a gulf of conscience leaden by distracted discernment leading to a hypostasized apostasy from the religious scruples I rigorously uphold but that I vacillate away from because I want to entrench an irenic world for the francketor dash towards a superlative enrichment of mind above matter for the victorias of soul above the pettiness of the dim humdingers of the banal lifeless squabbles of martexts beyond the hospitable welcome of martians. For the naysayers that don’t understand the ironic irenic circularity of gainsay becoming rebarbative to this artistic flourish of supersensible equipoise with an approximated histrinkage lagged by temporal deficiency they should not abhor the talisman of an ergotall genius but rather marvel at the burlesque cineaste connotation of enamored youthful spirits becoming novel because they stride above the cascades of crestfallen apathy of plodding languor. This is a definitive new artform for the niche crowd so don’t dismiss it as gobbledygook because it serves the purpose to enchant creative spirits and test minds that might be more nimble than resourceless. Wearisome by demiurges of distraction the thorny imbroglio of industry is a whiplash of nativism belonging to the throb of pulsated penury that is neither valedictory nor penultimate but tertiary in oblong variegated menageries of perfidy for collapsed enormities of jumboism lost on inclement stoichiometry that is sejungible from crambazzles of findrouement that are squaloid enthralled raptures of humdingers of rippled hunks of parched nebbich pataphysics because the circuit of conditioned reward is a rebarbative tether to the catchpole exploitative erratum of harbingers of hungry happenstance rather than continual enchantment. The crumple of squaloid sebastomania a distant figment of adscititious schadenfreude of dilettantism of flonky smardagine streaks of whemmled anxieties unduly provoked by calamities of presstungular intorgurent toonardical deprived cartels of repcrevel pursuit with labial senses embedded in deft incondite inquiries against seismotic jostle over the rubble of scaffolded jengadangle above the rot of contranatant sleek suffrage for the chattel of elemental realism becoming a heroic temple for glory without the vetust errundle of dismal disco attuned only to the spurts rather than a startled commerstargal of alienation leads to a plumber’s irony of atomic humdingers of natural equipoise with litotes of scrawny rings of gollendary piracy. The valorous incondite bricolage of a ****** cineaste barnstorm inoculated from conflagrations of the flagitious reprisal of prevenance of ferial fastuous feats of furlongs of brittle certainty above the tentative glaze of aced pokerish promenades to summit the craggy because the salebrosity of the pitch is also the venue for the sphairistic tentpoles of a new tabernacle of spectacular ecstasy in obvious punitive damage to puritan pilgrimage to mechanized obelisks of sardanapalian betrayal of histories of seizure rather than naturism of erasure that is a totemic recall of strollows of lonesome tributaries to tribunes of steam rather than saunas of lickerish leverage because the gladiatorial is a zugzwang with the deliberate infernal shibboleths of the disinclined people dislodged by carnality that depose sicarians of science because of militarized enmity against the whangams of taghairm becoming the outmoded dupe of dopamine that is now serotinous rather than flanged with glaring hearsay. The serpentine winds of windlass sometimes are a conclave of convex itineration against the steady husbandry of docile domiciles of mannequin sedentary postures for posterized infamy rather than manufactured oneiromancy that is the staddle for every phony contraption of qwartion obviously specious but interrogated by the dubiety of perseverance of inclement curiosity. Yet again we sweep the soaring ligaments of rigid ramshackle bletonism that hawkshaws countermand by division of enumerated nadirs pivoted against the perpended weight of the prolonged zeniths of grit above substance that infatuates myopia but glares against mountebanks of apothecary leverage. We fight against the boxcar traindeque of sejungible traipses through stereodimensional rebuffs of known drogulus surpassing unknowable reticence of citadels that are owleries for the seedy cities they sprawl with incontinence for a drab raft of intertesselation rather than a refined quintessence of alchemy achieved by allotment by brackish nescience becoming a blinding ray of destitution engraved by petrified decalcified rudiments of realism. The somber timbre of delirifacient ruinous rumination malingers in humdrum salience as it scrawls the tragedians lament of distal eventful frets of declassified nomenclature that swoon with lugubrious harbingers of burglary the licentious dolts affixed to the brays of pauperized regions of future proximity too remote to paralyze the morale of any cantonment on record by litotes of profound remembrance of a backfire delope for cineaste conflation of marstion slore for educated reprisal of desiccation. We spelunk in mimicry the dingy duplicity of double-takes in regelation that owe homage to the percolated hearsay of cartels that operate parsecs beyond our congeners of germane lustration in remission by deontology for soteriology alone but not vacated of the stilts of turnverein ragged mannequins of desolate remorse for the dearth of hived and hemmed hibernation in a fitful frenzy of revision above precision. We see abundant lactose intolerance as a sidereal lovelorn lament of sematic entrenchment without the scourge of roosted war against abrasive brawn exercised in flexible limbers of the novel filigrees of truth revelatory of consideration rather than impregnated with the perfidy of amaranthine static of regaled stagnation that flickers with the marinas of congregated leaps as a signature of the artistic license of byzantine traipses of contempered primacy in the soup kitchen of a lapse in sabotaged sobriety. Immune from displaced donnism is the resurgence of bonanza from checkered propinquities affixed to a finite placard of spacetime that owes to stretchgraves a profound depth of contrition that carmelized apocrypha lapse on lissome whilded dignotions of contrarian raillery of loose nihilism rather than anchor to the eremites of fact found in eclipsed culmination for momentous harps of the Jubal for new centuries inseminating the populated presence of spectral imagination with contorted melodies that spawn an ingenuous quest to swoon abiding heavens for celestial ears. It is conspicuous that artifacts for raiders elope with circuitous routes of heated sedimentary incubations with a comatose creativity that seeds the ferial junediggle with a supercalendar of confections that are intermittently apportioned in heydays of culture to the sad lament of the obvious rather than the obviated dare of audacity above conglomerations of spirited luxuriance in tasty memorial to a pinnacle above all other notions of sentinel apostasy. The greater atrocity of rogated ambitions against the gainsay of iconoduly of the rood and rude crucifixion of resurrected clarity found in the enamel of akashic answers to questions fashioned by kneaded cosmetology of delicate ***** cotqueans of limber above precedent and license beyond the finkly limp of lolloped saccharine blitzkreigs of the jalousies of the ajar vaticination of hurdled glaikeries of epicene impediment is that we ****** ink above the gesture of the quills of rocky abrasion found in limitrophes of yachted celebration because of rabid coherence above the wherefores of gadzookerie because the gladdest scaldabanco is the demented persiflage of collateral catastrophe beyond any humane degree of schadenfreude for persecution that backbites the anteric antlers of the jesters that mock the procession of liturgical secularism jeering at grapholagnia while lagging in imaginative spurts of lament for incalculable damage to the Pandora’s box of effluvia that meet stiff tabernacles of betrayal because of the Judaic foresight rather than as an alarmed Marxism scared of an agrarian interdependence of worlds cadged more prone to moral dogma exercised with latitude rather than unscrupulous brays of fisticuffs of shambolic shams of ruin. We glance at the perfidies of voyeurism with pertinacity and recalcitrant bellipotent bedlam that evokes the illicit grandeval whangams of quixotic whartonized arraigned estrangement from legalism to warp time to its own superlative turpitude that is reckless but contingent upon the consummation of destiny only to the extent of original witness rather than the decay of perpetuity wrought by the persiflage of envious militarized mandarisms of enmity aimed to derail the elevators of the noosphere from stratospheric emergence in now perspicuous clarity above the pother of the indelible sacrilege of the stygian polymathy of the astute enemies of the proper comstockery rather than the negligent butchers of an enantiodromia of oligarchies of lewdness that are severed appendages to Anti-Semitism and by extension a marginalized Islamophobia that demands by exigency the complete erasure of all attempts at sacrilege exercised in rampant dereliction of dutiful upkeep of the upright morality against the cadge of ulterior ploys of a broader hedonism that would only piggyback because of the license of ryesolagnus rather than because of a complete signatory endorsement of the liberated agenda of free thought conquered through the conquest of God but the ultimate conquistadors of time through sennet and even negligent rebec to memorialize the triumphant pantheon of growth rather than rankled regress into prolonged hatred ingeminated by atrocious tortfeasors that belong nowhere but the ashen heap of exorcised damnation. The perdition inherent to the system that craves chattel rather than sartorial versions of syncretic chatter is the malefaction of renegades bent on tornadic vulcanization to a demoralized wragapole of docility hitched to the vandalism of pilloried tarantisms of moral lapse leading the sheep into sheepish resignation over the accordion of Original Sin that annoys because the bridewells are brideless birds of the chavish of warbled uncertainty wicked because of snuffed tabacosis of mitigations of evil by the evildoers for the rejoinder against the Republic by rendering the **** a platonic ploy of karezza if only punctuated by solitary ******* reticulated by exsibilation that is contorted when you consider the ****** act a marvel rather than a condemnation of the vicarious involvement in normative ****** creations not of any higher artform but of an evolved theology that might perpend the issue of Christianized ******* that is videographic as a sanction worthy of charter and an impending simultaneous comstockery to protect the decency of the simultagnosia of a diverse and divisive mispronunciated time bent against its greatest heroes for the malice of schadenfreude built into the system of language itself by germane consideration to flagellate the wrong country for the  greatest wrongs known to the realm of religious observance. The pederasty of enclaves is the bailiwick of mutinies of selective mutism incurred by the vilified into compulsive shrieks of kallince as a ribbacle of protean ratiocination paralyzed by the coherent vulnerability incurred by the exchequer of polluted conditions of enslavement by the stretchgraves of the chavish of too many pulpits in the throng of a decisive jaundice against the victors of history because of the obsolescence of the historical fossils of outmoded jealousy. Now to the eupathy of all generations should we better conserve situations against the encroaching wesperm of the marstions of ulterior feminism grimacing at the pleckigger of manhood and decriminalizing the taboo against the enantiodromia of miscegenation to the folly of shepherds of idiotic ploys to rear the mediocre rebec of warbled intimations of cultural impotence that should proselytize both the oligogenics beyond ecbolic atrocity and the adoptive ****** of the anglosphere through its smart and dapper monopoly threatened by the commerstargal of retromorphosis exhibited by the demassification of culled syntalities into aboriginal epigenetic kennels of subservience to a piggybacked system where if you are among the attentive scrutiny of the audience that both perceives apperception metacognitively with francketor precision you are thereby inoculated from lean herbivores of cultish occultism metaphorically in the annealed agitprop for resourcelessness that never ends in the radioglare of revisionism because of the prevenance of the vergers who manage the Manciples rather than tend to the vainglory of the potagers around the hegemunes of an unwarranted and puritan celibacy of conceptual sterility in a world fashioned by engouements for sanguine hopes for a consanguinity that might portend into dynasty but lopsided in its contrite missives of scandal will never provide a valedictory rendition on politically checkered zugzwangs of ulterior scientism against the lettered freedom of bibliognosts to aggrieve against the gloaming vacuum of sartorial damages to Dagon among the populated metropolis of corporate servitude that will thus collapse out of rebarbative backlash for its diminutive economies of scope and pretenses of largesse of scaled down collectivism into a heap of corporate rubble rather than judicious bonanza. In every considered word in this Biblbical warning against the trekleador of the amazonian paradise against the travail of junediggles of obligation among the frenzied fretful tocsins of farcical utopianism meeting the inclement reprisal of sanctioned duplicity in frikmag beneath the truculence of mobilized alacrity to syndicalism endeared to capitalism rather than the converse logical apostrophes that are imponent overhangs of an already conquered feral sphere of nomadic imagination into a checkmate of a socially validated future clinched by foresight and the wragapole nature of the insensate docility of those prone to officious naturism before the attempted monolith of the mountebanks of the quixotic towers of panopticon that are a regelation of unchecked ambitions verging or diverging too valorously against themselves but also prone to a simultagnosia that berates the robust picaresque swandamos that curtail the curglaff of malcontent with the recoil of perseverance that reneges in tiresome defeat of a demilitarized population that should always be grisly rather than denatured by the overhang of the incumbent nudism of certain futures becoming to finicky in impetuous lurid specters of abhorrent exercises in chantage waged against sardanapalians in all countries regardless of merits or demerits. The redstrall of enlightenment is not otiose operatively in recursive backlash against nominalism which sweedles the weedledge of a new acquiescence timid enough to mangle a prosodemic wave of celibacy propitiated by the succedaneum of profligate vicarious lickerish ****** appetites that diminish that natural instinct into either barbarous experiments in lechery too inconvenient to apprise honestly but looming aghast at the moral tip-toes around the Original Sin that binds us to predatory lapse and retromorphosis rather than the maintenance of a mainlined trimpoline confidence in a normative wave of galvanized interface against the overpromiscuous provisions for the lackaday resentment of alienated millennialism relishing the sennet of nostalgia but bereft of the heave from moral slumbers of an invented celibacy intermediary to demassification but attenuated by the omphalism of astute gravitas in socially engineered balks at the emergence of singularity in personalized cacotopia becoming a metaphor for the broadsided shipwreck of an inured world pasteurized into acerbic jolkers of foofaraw rather than the real-life relish against still-framed ostentation that distorts the granular artifice of the natural into supernatural fixations with gaudy swarpollock indecently exposed. To the finkly flonky puritanism of the wiseacres of those who say sacerdotal duty cannot diverge from entelechies of secular insight I behold the marvel of timespun elegance as the marvel of God’s convergence for the happenstance of the serendipity of magnified time lived completely in the plenipotentiary pangs of evanescence that catapults subliminal meaning to memorialize this indelible seminal watershed in a clear visionary establishment of history. Most belong to oligomania but I relent in the completely sardonic intortions of aspects of sebastomania in complete equipoise with the clairvoyant clarity of centralized perspective but the dragomans will interpret that last phase with underminnow because it belies the granular intent of the fin de seicle advent of a new generation that is an homage to the hallowed Judaic theory of millennialism as the return of glorified entitlement yet tentative in its overhang but never malicious in its grapnel of the fewterers of amazing convergence of clairvoyance. The tangential rebuke of the absurd oxyholotron of paradoxical puritan superstition that assumes a fustilug generation will cement a farsighted clarity that subsumes generative prowess lingers with fixations on the figments of the apocryphal version of the truer version of revelations manifesting right before our eyes for neither the sinistral or the dexterous amplivagance of God’s universal message by the superorganism of messianic purpose belittled by the agents of humbled perdition not alone of martexts that are martles but also by the shepherded fears of the ignorant rather than the insipid because the will never be outmoded only enhanced by the acceleration of proliferative technologies that pave a macadamized future of prosperity rather than the tarnish of the miscreants of Tyre. I owe all providence to God because he fastened his scrutiny on my autodidactian romance clambered into restive ontocyclic peccadillo that points to Pinocchio more than to the truest compass of an omnified salvation of the piggybacked purpose of synergies of geotechnic mastery that elevates the cause of God and liberates us from the stings of dangerously vapid pauperization of the intellectual frontiers by dangled prevarications of desultory incontinence forestalled by avoidant developments in proper fewterers of ambition. By the axiomatic Brocards of time travel the unstated ignotism of deranged circuses of stupidity congregated around the swelter of dismissal is a barnacle to the mofussil fossilization of sentiment that remarks ironically about the petty indelible moments but not the entelechies of a unified front for liberated equity and considerate tender of diverse quorums that shepherd rather than intern the noosphere into the burgeoned resurgence of a humane endeavor for the everlasting enlightenment of an ameliorated humanity and beyond that. By the bailiwick exerted by the plenipotentiary omphalism still participant to the quorum I hereby declaratively implore the abrogation of pernicious grapholagnia as the peremptory sacrilege that needs exorcism for our times and yet delegated of stature I urge hortatory and imperative action for the expurgation of all tortfeasor illegally obtained ******* of unsolicited voyeurism to be completely regarded as the ultimatum of temerity against carnal restraint and banished from the human registry to uphold the strategic interests of the United States of America. I understand that there is not fricative monolith and never will I lean for that conquest but as a humbled member of the omphalism that constitutes the sacred endeavor of sociogenesis grounded on God with collegialism upheld that a geotechnically optimized species needs to refrain from lewd perfidies against commonplace justice to restrain the fumatorium of unwarranted envy from poisoning the pervious minds of people that congregate in defensive posture but not definitive gesture. I also beseech a portentous  settlement with  I relent from avarice but it is not a superposition of authority just a suggestive glance at requited justice but my grangull chavish of circumlocution naivety will meet the most deliberate Sardonic Sc(p)orn in these times of need. These next words are paused and already fathomed by the supernal recursion of the iterative metaphysics of recumbent retrospection hinged on hindsight to proclaim without any hints of attempted subterfuge of the clarity of a Democratic Republic that my words while forceful do not constitute a breech in public conduct even while vaulted with a minor rapacity I rebuke and atone for even when many others might find recourse to expiate my jalousies to the windowed world not of vindictiveness but out of the cursory and emphasis on cursory justice needed to vouchsafe my continued security and inoculation from the pothers of obviously shortsighted pleonexia which will obviously be fleered as a slight euthymia glazed on self-interest while tone-deaf to the checkered layers of entrapment by a confederate whiplash but a native grit never to enslave but to empower humanity. I am deeply lugubrious over the specter of the trembled quaky ground the penury of spiritual loss rejoinders against my candidacy for high esteem but not peremptory decisiveness in active service to yield to a supererogatory attempt for felicity to alight in my life not out of material greed but the gratuity of serviceable missions that play a dicey gamble with a frenzied manumission attempt that is essentially that a parsed manumission for eleutherian pragmatica to chide as naive but alarmed senectitude of the old order prevaricates with the din of postured hurdles of gladiatorial outrage that weans me away from the ataraxia for my fumbled stream brooking intolerance for years on the ballast of collective endeavor. Nevertheless, lets speak more on God’s providence because in this esteemed moment of watershed emergence of the fully engorged but rarely gluttonous soul I have found an equitable peace with supernal and superlative authority in God that grants stewardship and tutelage to the audience that will eventually through proper discrimination be delegated as higher than the ignorant bystanders of fleered snide disdain for the abnormous and bletcherous dimples of an otherwise circuitous dalliance with an unconventional path towards destiny rather than some windlass of opportunism for, if it were not for my unabetted genius and the provisions of divine appointment based on a kindly generous deference to preterition axiomatic in perceived time by the strictures of the convergent past and the divergent future, I would never find a role of partial authorship of a widely heralded tome I will one day publish to either the exsibilation of the antiquarians of hidebound irrefragable ontocyclic convictions or the cloveryield of an appreciative gratitude to the God I serve and I make no notions of any hostility towards any party of petty dismissal because I expect their recumbent recoil but I apologize for hubris and extenuate the follies of the refinery of character as I ascend into a figurative ennobled step into soulhood that exceeds my former dismal limits by such staggering orders of magnitude it magnifies the questions of ontology in sentience rather than beckons the alarmism of the swarpollock of tripwires that can easily withstand the tempests of scorn. The uproar of commotion of blood sanctified by the thirsty rain for the desiccated faucet of dramaturgy in reprisal for docimasy is the integral linchpin of the biocentric rebec reasting on the primitive hymns to festoon the curtains of defenestrated primitive relics of shady attempts at officious balks of the privatized empire of the alytarchs among the earwigs that simper the culled delicacy of sensible notions into the congeners of prioritization emphasized by quantulated concerns veiled by elaborative synquests that burrow the sulcate grooves of hidden hedonism for the chic magistrates of financial swoon or swayed vestiges of a forgotten calumny of betrayal by the coming-of-age sprouts of hedged dismal dismissal of a lugubrious prospect for an otherwise revitalized dressage of emoluments to glory that lurked in penumbras by rigged enumeration but found their prominence by the gravity of sensation-seeking frissons of alterations between benighted glory and the famish of artificial tethers to the yoke of caramel and chocolates as a dainty ploy of yearning persiflage also a dranger of camouflage for flagitious percolations of the invidious rumors of imposture and the groveling contempt of the known drogulus remiss in denial of its own requited date when the powers of miscarriage become ecbolic to their own lagging languor of lisps of linguistic ramparts of a revival of hypertrophy for hyperactive foibles in inclement weather. Ok beyond the absenteeism of the presence of perceived amphigory there is great heft in the nominal notion that dogma is mobilized in serviceable goods of merchandized mirrors of glazed remission of moral tender because of stoked curiosity unhinged from the pragmatica of duty. We need forbearance in empathy that loves the lovable rather than envies the deposed despotism of clever wiseacres veiled in delicate symmetry with conscience that is the quill of a wellspring deeper than any imaginary vagary can approximate because impossible events punctuate time with literacy rather than incontinence of drivel that is ambitious but ignoble by stately coherence. To the critics of the baragnosis of limited apperception my words are blatant amphigories but they only possess enough ken to fathom an average orbit of suboptimal outcomes rather than transdimensional chances at chess outnumbered by checkers by incidental design of clever ploys of rejoinder that is by design arcane for the arcadia of the pristine arcade of future possibilities  As I am purblind by psychorrhagy I am incompetent in my radiopresence because I am a departed spectral figment above fricative hisses and whorfian glares of mediocre rebec for primitive shibboleth above prized taurine anglophonic convictions that superimpose the dignified clarity of willpower above the dragnets of supersolid conflations of puffery. Ok I admit a lapse of transmission by the vesicles of numbered murders of henpecked owleries of the senectitude of sepulchral magnetism of slumber over awakened alacrity of mobilism fashioned in portentous flipcraves of additive immobility of fixed vectors seen through parvanimity that actually just swivel in circular retorts against themselves without the elaborative potential and the belabored traipse of the rabid taradiddles of sensationalism marauding as a defalcated burglary of emotion for useless psephology that predicates nothing but a slight budge in the autarky of structuralism which is never sclerotic but stammered by articulations of the overt when the covert aligns by an alien agenda that is subservient to magnified priorities of warped swirk of telescopic prevenance and hedged boschveldts of elemental and I stress the strain of the elemental for the drogulus of sensational proclamation by executive ****** but supererogatory minutiae of fascism cloaked by earwigs of repcrevel repute beyond memorialized reputation. We need to renege the southern pacts to the Argentine mandarism of reticular vitiations of cinematography waged against creative visionaries of free speech because of the succedaneum of furtive endeavors at optimization by compromised degrees of artistic licentiousness even that is never lewd about sacred roods but boorish in blockbuster rather than kempt in collectivist brunt of the timid bronteum of agitprop that lurks in the imminent future of cinema. America needs to retain the disclosed but still-frame inertia of catapulted declassification that ennobles the fliction but also the vilified distilled truths only the keen of acumen will sensibly identify so that the magnet of earwigs gravitates to the belabored analysis of astute congeners to relevant tributaries to the ocean of adventitious swarpollock in the procedural autopsy of the auditorium for neither a chattel nor a crystallized nurture against the matriotic insistence of decorum. Essentially the succubus of prosthetic protensive docimasy of imaginative logic predicated in visionary apperception of the unseen in immediacy is the longeur of reticent endeavors to pasteurize the oculus rifts of futurity to synergize with the entelechy of proactive somnambulism that sensitizes the profoundly capable but never bereaves the inept of direct interface with communicable dominion with fantasia that is an operative artifice of a beguiled lurch without purged retrograde immaterial delusion that endangers visceral momentum toward new directives of the outmantled zugzwang in elementary exercises of swaddled posterity free by irenic idolatry never orphaned by a widowed imagination. The swirk of hypostasized probabilities in an invented swipe at wide-eyed but star-crossed turnvereins for the imaginative leaps in the performative depend on the delicate swivels of declaration independent from culinary clarity of macroscian travesty rather than pinhokes of naufragues of maudlin laudable applause by the canned nurture of speculative intimation that sadly severs the curglaff of whispered intimacy over the confidence we have in artifice to teach the wragapole both matriotism and sensitive reninjasque poker without incurred damages beyond the clarified visionary potential of graphic protheses immediately perceptible to the acumen of judicious polymathy indoctrinated by the rigor of scientific grooms for melliferous parsecs of advanced minutiae of dark horses to nomadic license beyond ravenous **** palindromes of hushed vigor to the declared by scacchic deliberation to usher in crass but crestfallen synectics. The future of God is secure in the fathomed furlongs of cubic citadels of pasteurized paradise found in corralled reluctance without remonstrance of poetic belletrist resounding with clangor rather than swerved nimble potions to avert future calamities in war by the expansive frontier of a civilized metropolis of the mobilized imagination hypostasizing newfangled naturism that is neither mofussil nor a fossilized relic of scrappy schlep. The nonchalance of parlance swims in arenaceous bunkers of drivel that congregate in the turnverein of futuristic opportunism found in the muzzled directives of orchestras of departed clarity no longer so insular in its bossy imperatives but clarified with hearsay and blushed blarney not the blench of widened divulgence of minatory malice that incurs the punitive curglaff of frenetic retchallops of winsome specters becoming opportune pragmatics of a semantic network of dirigisme that through sheer horsepower overcomes the sting of ubiquity or the hollowed headless vesicles of urbacity disenfranchised by degrees of impertinent pertinacity of deposed disclosure rudimentary in sedentary simplicity against matriotic duty to remain guarded by an ommateum that fathoms the abyss but never wages reckless adventurism. Prevenance is the key to absolution but staggered implements of dearth preempt the ecbolic corrigenda of castigation by hindered lurches of veiled errundle belonging to a central trimpoline interposition of fungible felicity for not only a regional fanfare but a global scale of competitive endeavor of cleverage beyond scopes but beneath scrutinized mutiny of embanked polymathy stranded by the redstrall of industrious slavering dogmatism to a servile ***** rather than the boomerang of pressure to asseverate limitless bounds of planned obsolescence to engorge but not intimidate checkered reticence in the sinew of the musculature of creative parlance above petty finicky demiurges of latitudes in amphibious annealed glorification. Temperatures gauged by the thrombosis of thermolysis in psychotaxis gouged by hucksters of taciturn bamboozles of teetotalism are neither scourge nor foe of the strategic advent of the fascination of prospective investment a boondoggle that offsets the bonfire of retorted whimpers of foudroyant ripples of wildfire perspicacity strung by the catchpole of ubiquity in the time-honed decorum of genteel upright raconteurs of volleyed neglect by strict mandate will uproariously profit in remission from knowledgeable exacerbation rather than tomfoolery by filial tithes to foreign wardens of conspicuous levitation above gimcracks by the syrts of percolated filigrees of belabored chantage exerted over the tide of perfidy in contained discernment will stall and extinguish the prideful jostle of profane blasphemy against tacit covenants of blackguarded justice served by platitude better than by insubordinate quivers that quake because bears bounce checkered checks rather than anoint the sigillum of protective vouchsafes of exchequers smartly dapper rather than dimpled in flagrant brays of castigation and thus secure employment of instrumental advent rather than desecrated conventicles of remission.
Now it is time to ventilate divine knowledge that transfiguration means a humane liberation rather than a sanctimony of tirade against dumose proliferations of fluminous imaginary tracts of the probable rather than the certain for the elevators of sanitized wealth to bequeath greater moral clarity found in the contrary submission of authoritative parents to shepherd guarded wealth in proper husbandry of calendrical affairs to optimize the work-life balance so the biocentric imperative for sustenance renounces the moral obesity of groundless backlash in austerity and endless cycles of remorse rather than a tender mollification of sentiments away from universal kumbayas and in favor more stridently of a system that withholds the agitprop of statist indoctrination of a mollycoddle ****** within individual mandates of variable agendas of countries beyond the borderline fluid dynamics of the foibles of moral venial folly but insensitive to the dynamism of the robust virility of a wayspayed world swaying by riddled wildfires of conflated puerile stages of ludic indoctrination to the rampant perfidy of exemplary incontinence waged by Hollywood upon unsuspecting victims of inconsiderate indoctrination that doesn’t vouchsafe the prerogatives of heteronormative values that should outshine not a parochial vehement hatred or a clorence of unconditional tolerance but a chided quarantine of variegated syntalities divorced from integration rather than fostered in communal depths of bound lettered ambition found in the allegorical power of Biblical wisdom expounded by the florilegium of the religious and secular canon.
To serve God rather than the perceived taradiddle of speculative mammon deprived of classifiable certainties but hunched proclivities we need to exhort a proper seesaw between restraint in vision and exuberance in creative license so that the pivot of the moralized world leads to an insistent trust of watchdogs that through trust revolve the gravity of morale upon the upswing of liberty rather than incidental follies of imaginative demiurges of partition but blinkered hubris in stately objectives to the demur of participant malingering naysayers and nyejays. The moral gravity of the situation requires us to rotate our hype from the fervor of panic into the resolve of fortitude that relishes family and filial duty rather than resents because of breedbate instinct the flickers of smoldering rebels that are tamed in their revelry when they follow the moral prerogative of disciplined ambition in creativity not insubordinating against insurmountable limits but reasonable adjustments to a scaffold of potential that is skyscraping more than before even if its too close to the ground for comfort and consolation. Relativism is the enemy of progress because envy seeds alienation and comparison should be eschewed because we need to burrow in compassionate embrace of the cherished loves rather than the exaggerated proximity of provincial fears becoming global juggernauts of mercy upon the merciful and I convoke a global prayer for the attenuation of the virus that spreads sadly too far for comfort today. I purge out of solidarity with suffering as the milquetoast in me identifies the disconcerted avenues of avetrols trying to find a way through the forest of rumination without gingerly superlative prerogatives outweighing the poise of balance in shields of honor rather than badges of shame. We must by moral imperative greet strangers in public places like parks rather than strangulate the percolation of affection because of regnant distractions because in this congenial way we will find a common fraternity with fellow man while soldiering on to find truth in God’s word in the proper temperature for genuflection because I admit foibles but I relent not in the chase to redintegrate myself spiritually to lead a charge without trespass of fundamental dignity over the whoppers of indignation some of us might feel because of the penury of divergence rather than the private penalty of convergence for an ulterior solidarity of purpose. I need to emerge into the humanity of compassion to showcase that virtuosity can exist without obsession over one individual because God beseeches a pantheon of observation rather than the gripes of an envied nuisance independent from normal human concerns that ripple with ecstasy because of normative human contrition over the leeway on vacillated opinions that might underwhelm those disposed by prizes of inurement. We should shelve these notions of a supersolid conscience because only in the humility of the profound simplicity of elemental postulates can we achieve complete synchrony with a syndicate that enthralls both divergent and convergent movements that partially offset on the side of convergence in some communes while otherwise countermanded in others in contrarian ways and the favor of the balance depends on the perspective of the flanged acculturation of the participant in a world that doesn’t need flayed excoriation as much as it deserves proper exercise of adoration of the admirable rather than the desecration of the abominable. I return with the greatest jubilation of a reninjasque jaunty streak that hearkens the sennet and maybe the leanings of the senate to the fanfare of adoration for life and gratitude bestowed by the stewardship of God and his divine purpose to inseminate my life with purposeful meaning and happy happenstance that is a stroke of glory. I muster the resolve to traipse in the solitude of my cavern the blessings of divinity bequeathed by the departed forefathers who never intended bossy insularity of dogma to be a stricture of rigors of iconoduly but rather a consecrated wit with the persiflage of conversant tones of labile and lissome gallantry just waiting to alight upon the affectionate dance with dalliance of a philandered hope for a purified love hopefully never profaned by the pangs of scandal (note the sardonic pun) because rejoice is the gift of Heaven upon this culmination of purpose above the dross of shipwreck elevated in folly but stranded in the throes of rumination enough to hedge the boursocrats and try to inoculate the world from further panicky divisions of hypemongers of simpered precaution becoming a financial pandemic that deserves pause and poise but should not protrude above the glistening promise of the eternal wellspring of the vineyards of salvation blooming because enhanced sapience converted the flock of shepherds to tend to those sheepish in deficiency to wield a newer curiosity to replace a saddened lament not by acquiescent abandon but by the solidarity of interfaces of love replacing cast-iron idolatries I too am guilty of for the cordslave generation of itinerant distractions that wager on modicums rather than appraise bonanzas. Safety is predicated on the idea that resources should never be glazed but always apportioned with optimism because if you examine history irrational panics have always and always rebounded because of exigent actions taken by governments to restore confidence in liquidity rather than snide dismal dismissals of economic projections based on bounded rigged betrayals of primarily a global panic that a profoundly promethean intellectual verve could capitalize on its heyday to gouge people against the insensate balkanization of the future by an alienation of formidable scarecrow of invented fatalism imploding upon itself to obviate its own existence by the insistence on free thought to domineer and tower over the doldrums of a vacant man that is now occupied by the largesse of humane endeavor for a messianic voyage that consummates time itself its own captain and is partially centripetal around the juncture of All Saints Day 2008 because of its seminal significance in ushering in a new era of liberation. This justification is a gnomic axiomatic herculean ****** that catapulted generativity in creative endeavor to coalesce around an Army of Me not because of the futilitarianism embedded in its flagrant flagitious mockery of traipsed lyricism borrowed from Bjork but rather showcases the flavork of the flavenickers of ribald coarse revolution that is no longer balderdash to Bald Eagles but the prized retribution of the inviolable scruples demolished by deracinated moral relativism balking at raltention because of persnickety and tyrannical transparency that prepossesses over the lifeless livid Potemkin  Village  of Astroturf complaint malingering in pederasty over its own depraved sinuous course of diverted restraint cemented by the scythes of Village People politics benumbed over militarized betrayals that incur and invoke the diablerist prose of anonymuncle desperado mavericks that sizzle in hibernaculum to depose the autarky of seasoned growth rather than unseasonable diatribes of vitriol poisoning the posture of gentility by decree rather than by deeds of homogenized pasteurization against Lactose Intolerant Leftism and dogged doggerel of pasty subversive paranoiac hederaceous envy spawning a vituperative summation of a beatific felicity. We need to convene upon better tranceception in this axiomatic gratuity of God
(As she is usually expressed with a Seraphim beside her.)


Well meaning readers! you that come as friends
And catch the precious name this piece pretends;
Make not too much haste to admire
That fair-cheeked fallacy of fire.
That is a Seraphim, they say
And this the great Teresia.
Readers, be rul’d by me; and make
Here a well-plac’d and wise mistake
You must transpose the picture quite,
And spell it wrong to read it right;
Read him for her, and her for him;
And call the saint the Seraphim.

Painter, what did’st thou understand
To put her dart into his hand!
See, even the years and size of him
Shows this the mother Seraphim.
This is the mistress flame; and duteous he
Her happy fireworks, here comes down to see.
O most poor-spirited of men!
Had thy cold pencil kist her pen
Thou couldst not so unkindly err
To show us this faint shade for her.
Why man, this speaks pure mortal frame;
And mocks with female frost love’s manly flame.
One would suspect, thou meant’st to paint
Some weak, inferior, woman saint.
But had thy pale-fac’d purple took
Fire from the burning cheeks of that bright book
Thou wouldst on her have leapt up all
That could be found seraphical;
Whate’er this youth of fire wears fair,
Rosy fingers, radiant hair,
Glowing cheek, and glistering wings,
All those fair and flagrant things,
But before all, that fiery dart
Had fill’d the hand of this great heart.

Do then as equal right requires,
Since his the blushes be, and hers the fires,
Resume and rectify thy rude design;
Undress thy Seraphim into mine.
Redeem this injury of thy art;
Give him the veil, give her the dart.

Give him the veil; that he may cover
The red cheeks of a rivall’d lover.
Asham’d that our world, now, can show
Nests of new Seraphims here below.

Give her the dart for it is she
(Fair youth) shoots both thy shaft and thee.
Say, all ye wise and well-pierc’d hearts
That live and die amidst her darts,
What is’t your tasteful spirits do prove
In that rare life of her, and love?
Say and bear witness. Sends she not
A Seraphim at every shot?
What magazines of immortal arms there shine!
Heav’n’s great artillery in each love-spun line.
Give then the dart to her who gives the flame;
Give him the veil, who kindly takes the shame.

But if it be the frequent fate
Of worst faults to be fortunate;
If all’s prescription; and proud wrong
Hearkens not to an humble song;
For all the gallantry of him,
Give me the suff’ring Seraphim.
His be the bravery of all those bright things,
The glowing cheeks, the glistering wings;
The rosy hand, the radiant dart;
Leave her alone, the Flaming Heart.

Leave her that; and thou shalt leave her
Not one loose shaft but love’s whole quiver.
For in love’s field was never found
A nobler weapon than a wound.
Love’s passives are his activ’st part.
The wounded is the wounding heart.
O heart! the equal poise of love’s both parts
Big alike with wound and darts.
Live in these conquering leaves; live all the same;
And walk through all tongues one triumphant flame.
Live here, great heart; and love and die and ****;
And bleed and wound; and yield and conquer still.
Let this immortal life where’er it comes
Walk in a crowd of loves and martyrdoms.
Let mystic deaths wait on’t; and wise souls be
The love-slain witnesses of this life of thee.
O sweet incendiary! show here thy art,
Upon this carcass of a hard, cold heart,
Let all thy scatter’d shafts of light, that play
Among the leaves of thy large books of day,
Combined against this breast at once break in
And take away from me my self and sin,
This gracious robbery shall thy bounty be;
And my best fortunes such fair spoils of me.
O thou undaunted daughter of desires!
By all thy dow’r of lights and fires;
By all the eagle in thee, all the dove;
By all thy lives and deaths of love;
By thy large draughts of intellectual day,
And by thy thirsts of love more large than they;
By all thy brim-fill’d bowls of fierce desire
By the last morning’s draught of liquid fire;
By the full kingdom of that final kiss
That seiz’d thy parting soul, and seal’d thee his;
By all the heav’ns thou hast in him
(Fair sister of the Seraphim!)
By all of him we have in thee;
Leave nothing of my self in me.
Let me so read thy life, that I
Unto all life of mine may die.
Megan Sherman Feb 2017
My heart hearkens at warm gestures of humanity
That penetrate beneath cynicism
Inspired by Love's magnamanity
I surmount soul's cataclysm
The generosity of one soul giving to another
Without expectation of returns
Is the spirit of a kindred brother
In whom the divine flame burns
Together we transmit blisses and gifts
Known only unto heart
Its truth like balloon lifts
On adventure soul embarked
    At warm humanity my heart hearkens
    To its truth I, intruiged, listen
There's no replying
To the Wind's sighing,
Telling, foretelling,
Dying, undying,
Dwindling and swelling,
Complaining, droning,
Whistling and moaning,
Ever beginning,
Ending, repeating,
Hinting and dinning,
Lagging and fleeting--
We've no replying
Living or dying
To the Wind's sighing.

What are you telling,
Variable Wind-tone?
What would be teaching,
O sinking, swelling,
Desolate Wind-moan?
Ever for ever
Teaching and preaching,
Never, ah never
Making us wiser--
The earliest riser
Catches no meaning,
The last who hearkens
Garners no gleaning
Of wisdom's treasure,
While the world darkens:--
Living or dying,
In pain, in pleasure,
We've no replying
To wordless flying
Wind's sighing.
Brother Jimmy May 2015
away from the light we fly
with an innate attraction to darkness,
and when it hearkens,
we willingly follow,
covering our ears
gouging our eyes out
without thought
we wallow
in darkness
again
Cosmic kraken,
gelatinous tentacles that choke the ventricles..
air tainted by its pungent pores...
daylight darkens,
its presence hearkens,
for the light to shine no more...

Heart is hardened
vestigial veins with not blood but pain...
wrinkled cartilage writhes at lore..
of the divine despair
I now come to bear,
graces this unworthy *****...

"I beg I pardon!
spare me the road to your celestial abode!"...
whispered screams that scrape throat raw...
silence snares...
at my futile affairs...
with the sadistic nexus between doors...

"Oh I cannot fathom
creature with unworldly features...
and blade fashioned from nebulous ore...
what terrors await...
and to permeate....
my flesh forevermore!"
Sometimes I feel this way about my parents....
As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say
The breath goes now, and some say, No:

So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move,
’Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th’ earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did and meant,
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers’ love
(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.

But we by a love so much refined
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th’ other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans and hearkens after it,
And grows *****, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must
Like th’ other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.
Moonflower in the Pale Moon Light
Gently Unfurling
Willing to Nights Delight

Cloistered under the Bright
Clear Sun.. Shutting Herself
Till the Day is Done

Secrets Revealed beneath the
Veil Of Darkness
Light of the Moon
The only Language
To which She Hearkens

* * * *
Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved
A RE-POST
A shout out Moonflowers around the world. How fortunate we are
to be present to their magical ways
Julian Aug 2015
Decadent choirs bemoan the prudish proctor of the inevitable and decisive test
Profligacy anneals and the knaves repeal the prohibition of the earth’s very best
Despondent clouds tower over a garbled loud and an unapologetic proud
Panache whisks the hallowed cross into transmogrified dross amassing a boisterous crowd
Hidebound ideologies tether the masses to masses and gather the rust of the bustle and bust
Recusant allegiance mocks the science of sanctimony and dissolute lust
Deathless in prayer and breathless in despair rhapsody creeps and percolated ideals leap
Arriving in the limelight of providence, the renegades daunted by the specter of commination weep
Proofs now exist and investment in their emphasis burgeons into a divine cease and desist
But in the hubris of victory and the rubrics of history pleasure wrenches control and importunacy insists
Brisk alacrity and savvy rapacity beseech the death of the stodgy gate
Time lingers in evanescent turmoil satiated only by the fish and the bait
But when the bait runs in low supply the society hearkens the agents of the sky
They pout over water even with verdant temptations escorting them away from the dry
How do you anoint in a world preoccupied with the next joint rather than the next joint venture
Revelations lies to stultify the brides of misadventure
Caprice rampant, society recusant deadlocked in hedonistic dreadlocks
The fools boast of victories never won, and the prattle of yesteryear is stalked
Restraining order duly noted but never imposed
Stygian elements wrought apparel to contribute to indecency in clothes
To the master of destiny and the architect of decency
I advise the future to focus more than just on recent sprees
Ignominy forgotten in tokes, we forget about the labor of cotton
We forget also about the putrefaction of the rotten
Abdicate the uprooted era squelched by disorientation wrought by intensified sensations
And return to the regal promise of prudes living beyond temptation
But who is the fool foolish enough to forswear the hide of the bear in the dead of the winter scare
Lilting in sumptuous praise and reckless abandon this charge and travesty seems unfair
Slanted lies of stodgy disguise revile the return to primitive commode and camaraderie
To loot of the panaceas and nepenthes to the extent of dearth seems a more egregious robbery
But in the uprooted future the past has no say
The primacy of today shines the refulgent and overpowering rays
The sun won’t burn out but the burn outs won’t establish any clout
Even in a world divorced from prudishness in sanctimonious doubt
Powerless in the rout of pleasure over the scourge of dearth
The earth awakens renewed even with the impossibility of rebirth
Resurrecting the indulgences of Rome while abdicating the tome
The theophany astounds especially the most prone
The coming of righteousness working to castigate immoderacy
The renegades listen barely enough to subvert their own profligacy
Shouting over the skylines the rain announces the sentences for the wicked crimes
Of a past forgotten and a future rotten because of an ill-designed time
An ill-designed design leading to wanton men groveling in grime
Time to indulge time to abstain
Either extreme ultimately lame.
harlon rivers Dec 2017
Gray Owl hearkens
the dappled daybreak knell
echoing through
the wildwood forest stand;
rock doves and frosty stones abide,
where a marooned heart doth dwell,
disrobed by the longest night's frigid touch

Timber stand grips tight
red clay and bedrock of ages,
postured tall and strong
as eagle's spirit throne

Pine cones hide
in the low drifting clouds,
ripe acorns tumble down alone
unto  a  windblown
shallow earthen grave,
hillocked  beneath
the sky-high canopy

Bones of branches,
furrowed bark from burled oak,
wood-grains of pith,
natural gnarled achings
peeled by the shivering
wind's breath

Paling autumn memories
grow dim as the receding sunlight,
recollections of ebbing Jasmine's
mellowing fragrant balm
waft aloft in a favorite fading fantasy,
the edge of winter metamorphosis
bears down with a prodigious weight
of a different kind of retreating light;

brindled Queen Anne's lace
hold sway across
the tawny frostbitten meadow
imbuing the poignantly
whetting breeze

The blink of an eye winks,
to catch sight of
an intimate glimpse,
an unspoken
solitude holds forth,
the mesmerizing coo of rock doves,
reverently mirroring
the sanctity of the forest wildwood
lingering amongst the frosty
ferns and stones

The harmony of tranquil silence wanders;
only the bowing resistance of the boughs
manifest the shapeless wind’s
whispered  breathe
swirling above the labyrinth threshold;

therein lies an unfractured fault line
rooted deeply beneath
the earth’s crust
like the sonorous heart
of a sanctuary hearthstone

Hence there is symmetry
felt in silence that only whispers
in the deep toned consonant
of our own harbored sighs

a holy human blood link
born of  heritage wilderness heartwood
beats keenly alive


written by:   harlon rivers ... December 2017
Notes: Midwinter orifice into the North-woods

Thank you for looking through a soul's portal at winter solstice
They sent you in to say farewell to me,
No, do not shake your head; I see your eyes
That shine with tears.  Sappho, you saw the sun
Just now when you came hither, and again,
When you have left me, all the shimmering
Great meadows will laugh lightly, and the sun
Put round about you warm invisible arms
As might a lover, decking you with light.
I go toward darkness tho’ I lie so still.
If I could see the sun, I should look up
And drink the light until my eyes were blind;
I should kneel down and kiss the blades of grass,
And I should call the birds with such a voice,
With such a longing, tremulous and keen,
That they would fly to me and on the breast
Bear evermore to tree-tops and to fields
The kiss I gave them.  Sappho, tell me this,
Was I not sometimes fair?  My eyes, my mouth,
My hair that loved the wind, were they not worth
The breath of love upon them?  Yet he passed,
And he will pass to-night when all the air
Is blue with twilight; but I shall not see.
I shall have gone forever.  Hold my hands,
Hold fast that Death may never come between;
Swear by the gods you will not let me go;
Make songs for Death as you would sing to Love—
But you will not assuage him.  He alone
Of all the gods will take no gifts from men.
I am afraid, afraid.

                               Sappho, lean down.
Last night the fever gave a dream to me,
It takes my life and gives a little dream.
I thought I saw him stand, the man I love,
Here in my quiet chamber, with his eyes
Fixed on me as I entered, while he drew
Silently toward me—he who night by night
Goes by my door without a thought of me—
Neared me and put his hand behind my head,
And leaning toward me, kissed me on the mouth.
That was a little dream for Death to give,
Too short to take the whole of life for, yet
I woke with lips made quiet by a kiss.
The dream is worth the dying.  Do not smile
So sadly on me with your shining eyes,
You who can set your sorrow to a song
And ease your hurt by singing.  But to me
My songs are less than sea-sand that the wind
Drives stinging over me and bears away.
I have no care what place the grains may fall,
Nor of my songs, if Time shall blow them back,
As land-wind breaks the lines of dying foam
Along the bright wet beaches, scattering
The flakes once more against the laboring sea,
Into oblivion.  What care have I
To please Apollo since Love hearkens not?
Your words will live forever, men will say
“She was the perfect lover”—I shall die,
I loved too much to live.  Go Sappho, go—
I hate your hands that beat so full of life,
Go, lest my hatred hurt you.  I shall die,
But you will live to love and love again.
He might have loved some other spring than this;
I should have kept my life—I let it go.
He would not love me now tho’ Cypris bound
Her girdle round me.  I am Death’s, not Love’s.
Go from me, Sappho, back to find the sun.

I am alone, alone.  O Cyprian . . .
Jedd Ong Mar 2016
"Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
-Ozymandias

I.
O wait for us, Colossus

as we wait - and throw you
to earth: from heaven’s gates judge you
unworthy - to hades’ lands assign,
where your iron limbs make mincemeat out
of anguished homes - by tyrants
you were thrown but floated aimless past

the drifting realms where once lay hell,
and fired you your rocket boosters - apollo’s gift

blinding still your eyes -

II.
next, awake: the visage of the Child
in your face - languishing, affronted:
two vast and trunkless legs of iron glare, only to grow
rigid still - slumping at His feet: with heart-engine smoking,

eyes hollowed-black,
lying in slumber with giant's knees bent,
in grasslands rest and where hearkens the plain - He cries out:
’tis you!

though dwarf, He is - he kneads your iron
by grass, and your wounded legs the earth
now christens, snd blesses still your sleep.

III.
He moves forth with grass blades and twigs,
crown you a nest; and bear stones unrolled to where

your feet first kisses ground.

-2.17.16
An attempt at "sketching" a cartoon. Originally a photo piece.
Love is so vapid for me,
I feel like don't want to love anymore,but
When i see you;
I startled and ponder,
Why god takes a lot of time to,
Make a men like you for me ?
Every dames fairytale dream is,
A hubbie who hearkens patiently.
Now i got mine.
But,
I want to utter something
I thought this was a real seal,
You & me were locked
A padlock of emotions and feelings.
I had cried so many tears
I felt all alone.
Its made my heart black ,
Like a chunk of coal.
When times runs out
My heart cognized everything
Now i come from the hazy sphere.
I can sense you now.
You  fell in love,
From the moment you laid eyes on me.
When,  I juxtapose you with the star's
He feels covetous because,
You and your  love is most beaming.
Whem you clutch me in your arms,
Is the best loved part of the day.
Over a period of time,
I got to know the real you.
Sometimes you are my bestie
Sometimes my soulmate
Sometimes my acharya.
I know you,
Like no one i have ever known.
I am sorry if i do something make you really mad.
I am sorry for breaking your heart but,
I can't promise you that we will never fight
But i can promise,
With all my heart
I will always love you and never leave you.
When i say adieu, promise me you won't cry,
Bcz the day i will be saying farewell,
**Is the day i die.
For all Beau's and Leman's
Jesse stillwater May 2018
The deeper the veins
of a silent rising
fountainhead reach,
awaking a muse
more chilling
than the truth
    in the blood ―
a  cold
stillness stirs
that lets me
feel  an
unheeded sigh
cast in the wind

A breathe
of words
from a sudden
burst of silence,
tossed like a
handful of dust
lost in a rush
  of wind ―
a  beclouded
murmur fleeted;
holding your breath
as the aching
passion
manifest,
no longer
containable

I really wonder
if you even know
or care
who's behind
the dark
     cracked glass ―
you learn to live
with what’s broken
   to survive...
learning to look
in the eyes
of a dark horse
in a tight-lipped mirror,
to hear what’s
pushed back down
unswallowed

Staring down
the muted throat
of the voiceless;
feeling the anxiety
of held breath,
turning blue
afraid to exhale

If you look
at these words
and remember
there was nothing
left to lose,
then you'll see
     the meaning ―

I don't need
to hear you
tell me to re-lock
all the doors
I wish I never opened;
knowing there are
still moments
when it leaks out
of my silence

Someday,
at first light,
a songbird
hearkens
the morning
dew's passage;
  I’ll take heed
a song
of deliverance
and rise up
  from
  bended knees ...

but right now
I’m still learning
how to live alone


Jesse e Stillwater
02  May  2018
................................................................


Note to readers: Thanks a lot for reading the things I've shared publicly the past few months.  Many comments I shared intended to support others' work, fell to silence, so my apologies if I ****** you off not knowing the unpublished site map. Its hard to know here; perplexing when you're just a simple unknown trying to just be. For now I'm just going back to being more of a reserved reader until I've got a better idea of which way the wind blows...
Theresa M Rose Sep 2015
In the darkness,
Reverberation
… empties silence.

… tap; … tap; … tap.

The tapping?  
The pendulum‘s grandeur;
A passive state… to time.

Low, slow,
… distant echoes

A bid
… to serenity’s seduction.

Sweeping circuits,
Lap …long,
Against a pebble filled beach.

The tide calls;
Whoosh;  
…whoosh;
…whoosh;  
…whoosh;

Such foreboding waves
Call.

Surrender;
Approach,..;

Remember…;
Return…,

Taste …
The salty- sweet
… water’s sway.

Ache for desire;

To expose
… forbidden love’s impoverished tears;

An enchanting lure,
… hearkens

Come; … far
Beneath the rocky cliff.

My heart;
Wanting … ;

But no… !
Sanity holds…

It’s…  not time.

A snare’s line rings;
Time moves…;
… tap;
… tap;
… tap.
Time, waives protest
… to this recital’s longing embrace.

Home,
Simply composed;

A love’s submerging refrain.

A door,
… stills, open.

A room;
The keep;

Through a corridor’s long shadow,
The silence speaks,

Pride’s measure
… ticks.

… tap;
… tap;
… tap.  

Old tatters
Curtains dance.
Soothing drifts
…cool salty air.

… tap;
… tap;
… tap.  

A calm state;

Moonlight.

Relics of a heart;

Composing drama plays to shadows;
Cracks on old plaster walls.

Glimpses return
… where waning movements hide;

The essence of sound and silence
Intertwine.

An old window-seat
… gives audience to the stars.

In eyes of youth;
A young girl‘s heart… lives

Once more.
Time falls
Moments recede.

Ah, my love;
I hear the Harp’s comb play

As gentle as a sigh,..

Rolling Home…; Rolling Home…;
Rolling Home  across the Sea

A vow, misspoken;

To wait…;
Still…  

… tap;

… tap;

… tap.  

Golden hair;
Your fancy to heather’s yielding flow.

A hundred long strokes;
As… soft tenders weep.

An altering hue;
… fades of time.

Gold;
Silver;
Now, twists shimmer of soft white pearl.

Time combs these long old satin strands.

… tap;

… tap;

… tap.  

Youth now spent; To wear once more
Soft lavender, love-knots.

Ribbons flow…

Aging wrinkles where once
Plump lips reach desire;

Now, the gentlest breeze
… plays prey of a beating heart

Memories.
Take to flight.

… tap;

… tap,  

Yesterday is almost here …;

Years abandon
… to the dew scent heather;

Eyes close
To such need

… to touch.

To…

To…

… tap;

… tap;

… tap.
Altered from the first posting; Love feedback of subject matter?
Not to the staring Day,
For all the importunate questionings he pursues
In his big, violent voice,
Shall those mild things of bulk and multitude,
The Trees--God's sentinels
Over His gift of live, life-giving air,
Yield of their huge, unutterable selves.
Midsummer-manifold, each one
Voluminous, a labyrinth of life,
They keep their greenest musings, and the dim dreams
That haunt their leafier privacies,
Dissembled, baffling the random gapeseed still
With blank full-faces, or the innocent guile
Of laughter flickering back from shine to shade,
And disappearances of homing birds,
And frolicsome freaks
Of little boughs that frisk with little boughs.

But at the word
Of the ancient, sacerdotal Night,
Night of the many secrets, whose effect--
Transfiguring, hierophantic, dread--
Themselves alone may fully apprehend,
They tremble and are changed.
In each, the uncouth individual soul
Looms forth and glooms
Essential, and, their ****** presences
Touched with inordinate significance,
Wearing the darkness like the livery
Of some mysterious and tremendous guild,
They brood--they menace--they appal;
Or the anguish of prophecy tears them, and they wring
Wild hands of warning in the face
Of some inevitable advance of the doom;
Or, each to the other bending, beckoning, signing
As in some monstrous market-place,
They pass the news, these Gossips of the Prime,
In that old speech their forefathers
Learned on the lawns of Eden, ere they heard
The troubled voice of Eve
Naming the wondering folk of Paradise.

Your sense is sealed, or you should hear them tell
The tale of their dim life, with all
Its compost of experience:  how the Sun
Spreads them their daily feast,
Sumptuous, of light, firing them as with wine;
Of the old Moon's fitful solicitude
And those mild messages the Stars
Descend in silver silences and dews;
Or what the sweet-breathing West,
Wanton with wading in the swirl of the wheat,
Said, and their leafage laughed;
And how the wet-winged Angel of the Rain
Came whispering . . . whispering; and the gifts of the Year--
The sting of the stirring sap
Under the wizardry of the young-eyed Spring,
Their summer amplitudes of pomp,
Their rich autumnal melancholy, and the shrill,
Embittered housewifery
Of the lean Winter:  all such things,
And with them all the goodness of the Master,
Whose right hand blesses with increase and life,
Whose left hand honours with decay and death.

Thus under the constraint of Night
These gross and simple creatures,
Each in his scores of rings, which rings are years,
A servant of the Will!
And God, the Craftsman, as He walks
The floor of His workshop, hearkens, full of cheer
In thus accomplishing
The aims of His miraculous artistry.
argus Feb 2015
HOWEVER IT DOES NOT FOLLOW THAT ONE IS INHERENTLY GOOD AND THE OTHER, INHERENTLY BAD!
SUCH WORDS ARE USELESS

LET THIS NOT CAUSE YOU TO STRAY FROM YOUR PATH,
OR TO GIVE UP HOPE IN REASON.

WHILE THERE IS NO TRUE, UNIVERSAL GOOD, AND THERE IS NO OBVIOUS, DEFINITE ENEMY:

CHOOSE THAT TO WHICH YOUR HEART HEARKENS. AND FIGHT, WITH ALL YOU HAVE, AGAINST WHAT IS THE ANTITHESIS OF SUCH.

BUT NEVER SAY YOU ACT IN THE NAME OF GOOD.
NEVER CLAIM THAT YOUR ENEMY IS THE EVIL IN THE WORLD.


For Those who Know, will have no choice but to pity at your fallacy.
A rose that only knows sunlight
Can never understand rain;
A heart that's only known gladness
Can never understand pain.
Eyes that have never seen darkness
Cannot comprehend hope;
Passions that have never felt torment
Are fires that can not be stoked.
But wisdom that hearkens to anger
Will someday turn its cheek;
A bold king of cruelty
Will someday join the meek.
Though the good and the bad
Writhe in confliction
Inside us all
Is a whole conviction.
Two parts to a whole,
Two sides in the glass,
The push and the pull,
The future and past.
We stumble about
Our hearts divided in twain
Eking out answers
In our fight to remain.
We ask ourselves
Whatis wrong?
What is right?
Too scared of the dark
To embrace the light.
We cannot be happy
Without having been sad
We cannot have good
Without the bad.
Sean Foley Feb 2011
Blue eyes dazzle the wretched sea
A lonesome gull calls out to me
It hearkens solitude unnervingly

I’ve sailed for leagues toward lands of lore
From whence come olden tales of yore
Of precious gems and forgotten ore

A wrathful queen dost rule this olden land
Brimmed with savage creatures and golden sand
Towards the fiery sun I direct my hand

This journey given from words of tale
Whispered at home on verdant vale
Has sent me to fight this mighty gale

Locked with vast blue in enmity
Facing horizon’s eternity
I blind pursue my destiny
Trevon Haywood Mar 2016
They sent you in to say farewell to me,
No, do not shake your head; I see your eyes
That shine with tears. Sappho, you saw the sun
Just now when you came hither, and again,
When you have left me, all the shimmering
Great meadows will laugh lightly, and the sun
Put round about you warm invisible arms
As might a lover, decking you with light.
I go toward darkness tho' I lie so still.
If I could see the sun, I should look up
And drink the light until my eyes were blind;
I should kneel down and kiss the blades of grass,
And I should call the birds with such a voice,
With such a longing, tremulous and keen,
That they would fly to me and on the breast
Bear evermore to tree-tops and to fields
The kiss I gave them. Sappho, tell me this,
Was I not sometimes fair? My eyes, my mouth,
My hair that loved the wind, were they not worth
The breath of love upon them? Yet he passed,
And he will pass to-night when all the air
Is blue with twilight; but I shall not see.
I shall have gone forever. Hold my hands,
Hold fast that Death may never come between;
Swear by the gods you will not let me go;
Make songs for Death as you would sing to Love --
But you will not assuage him. He alone
Of all the gods will take no gifts from men.
I am afraid, afraid.

Sappho, lean down.
Last night the fever gave a dream to me,
It takes my life and gives a little dream.
I thought I saw him stand, the man I love,
Here in my quiet chamber, with his eyes
Fixed on me as I entered, while he drew
Silently toward me -- he who night by night
Goes by my door without a thought of me --
Neared me and put his hand behind my head,
And leaning toward me, kissed me on the mouth.
That was a little dream for Death to give,
Too short to take the whole of life for, yet
I woke with lips made quiet by a kiss.
The dream is worth the dying. Do not smile
So sadly on me with your shining eyes,
You who can set your sorrow to a song
And ease your hurt by singing. But to me
My songs are less than sea-sand that the wind
Drives stinging over me and bears away.
I have no care what place the grains may fall,
Nor of my songs, if Time shall blow them back,
As land-wind breaks the lines of dying foam
Along the bright wet beaches, scattering
The flakes once more against the laboring sea,
Into oblivion. What care have I
To please Apollo since Love hearkens not?
Your words will live forever, men will say
"She was the perfect lover" -- I shall die,
I loved too much to live. Go Sappho, go --
I hate your hands that beat so full of life,
Go, lest my hatred hurt you. I shall die,
But you will live to love and love again.
He might have loved some other spring than this;
I should have kept my life -- I let it go.
He would not love me now tho' Cypris bound
Her girdle round me. I am Death's, not Love's.
Go from me, Sappho, back to find the sun.

I am alone, alone. O Cyprian...

Sara Teasdale (1884-1933). 3/23/2016.
Tammy Boehm Feb 2015
"Slowly, silently, now the moon..."--Walter de la Mare

If only the days slipped soft
Eider down from quiet skies
“Slowly, silently now the moon”
Crests and ebbs in the star swept horizon
Mercury moments I consider the sinister things
The rush of blood banging at the back of my throat
The cadence of daybreak
And heart break and darkness hearkens
Scurrilous thoughts scatter faster
Roaches at the flip of a switch
Writhe in the light
Seek solace in shadows
Rats scrabble for higher ground in the downpour
Drown me now but I’ll never be clean
I carry the disease of this civilized beast
Scorpions under my tongue
And splinters in my skin
The higher rungs are toxic
And the air thick with afterburn
The antiphon of the apathetic
Chirrs me from daydream to entropy
Peace is hospice for poets and fools
Grit under my nails
And ***** in my mouth
Forever falling forward
The warp and weft stretched
Taut expectation
Of the cut that never comes
Just let me fall
Feather light and quiet
Let the gravity relentless
Have her way
TLBoehm
040113
PK Wakefield Feb 2011
in the belly of her fragrance
laid and bared(it's where
the unclad baying of superior
determined fruit
hearkens genially my quaking
and my venom
to deftly smear my soul
in swollen anemic) hysteria
Taylor Stein Dec 2012
Cardboard box on an empty street
Snow lightly falling
A small figure, huddled inside

I hear her begging
Just for a light
Her hands are blue
Her hope all run out
Nothing left in her
No more will to go on

I want to move on
Enough cold already in my heart

A small timid whisper
Comes from her mouth
Not more than a breath
Nothing close to a word

A streetlamp shine nearby
It lights up the box
And hearkens the sky
The small face stares up
Timid and frozen

I do not know what I have to give
But I open my heart
I reach out, and.

(theinkthatspeaks.blogspot.com)
Eva B Apr 2020
The world would never be the same
but the wind still sways the
bare tree tops and when
the cat meows it
still wants attention.
K Mae Jun 2013
solitude in sight
   waving sunlit grass hearkens
sacramental bliss
Haiku
Ottar Nov 2013
there will be no sounds,
the road is lonely tonight,
travelers will stay off the
asphalt ways, the blackest
                           of nights
                                       will not be pierced
                     by headlights
animal eyes will not be bright
spots appearing to float lightly
to escape, in the darkness,
no engine noises will echo in the trees,
and cause mothers to gather their young
and tell them in animal voices why
no one is allowed to go out after dark
        even for a family walk to the park,
        across the treeless way
            where they can play
       with garbage cans' contents,
       but rather stay in and be content,
       with the gathering of fur with breathing
      in the still air, restful sounds and a
       peace to be shared with care and oh,
      but there will be darkness that hearkens
      sleep with dreams of play, teeth flashing,
      rough fur rising along the spine,
                  just don't cross that line,
                                               and leave the nest alone tonight,
                                   for even the darkness has teeth that bite.


©DWE112013
Jevaugn Jan 2015
One of the basic concepts of art
Is that within every creation lies
Fundamental shapes shepherd by an
Organic compiling of lights and darks  
Bending to formulate shadowed tales.  
Stories. Myths. Epics.
Triangles and circles rest undisturbed
Scattered rhythmically like smooth curves
Contouring to the whims of the dance...
Yet, when infusing detail into mapped
Shapes, the stories are no longer the same.
Haunted and forsaken.

But still, such a delicate face hearkens my
Pencil to life.
My fingers, to smudge these fine lines
Drawn into the organic creation that is you:  
A lovely imperfection.

However, I never seem to get this line correctly.
Despite my efforts.
The wisps of the rainbow
streak through the sky:

The soaring spectrum of the tears
in all its vibrant glory.

Shades: Tints: Lengths: Depths

of redemption

diving onto the land
into the arms of those

who cry for it.

For it is receptive of the tears of men.

Together, the tide hearkens to the beacon

to fill the fallen

with a submersion

of rushing glory!

And in its descent, building charge,
stranding streaks of silver shoot

deep into the realm
piercing the souls

of the worthy:

Throwing them to their knees...

Engulfed with the life: The surge.

Sobbing joy. Laughing praise.

Raising their heads to the sun:

The mighty

city of emeralds

from which the path
of the soaring spectrum

begins.
Julian Nov 2020
Stilted lingerie that fashions a kneaded traipse between trap-door destiny of double-take simultagnosia is a harder fright to outfox that even the most ghoulish amicable maskirovka of a throttled sapience beleaguered by the tropes of a tattermedalion class of Scarface vigor in the face of benighted tomes of a cruised palindrome of efficacy bromides flickering on the outskirts of esoteric thrones of catapults droning on about the listless squalor of philandering phronesis of ecdysiast *** in the cyprian hedges of limited wealth bemoaning the poverty of deprivation because of whiskers through feline sight languid in the remedial dances of captaincy snuck between the edges of destiny cordial only to Home Alone. We must sneak through the verdant pacification of an accordion grimace flanged by the eked snide spite of termagants of termination ruined by the future flickering into past distance because of spartan brutish mannequins of pasteurization glimpsing the thanatousia of death vindicated by vengeance brazen with a Colorado snare of a pinned etiolation of marauders of corsairs that only brave the delusion when the eternity is a trick-or-treat truth and dare consummated on the flimsy agape lychgates of constraints in flair that damage the ragged hypostasized engine of a blinkered hubris belonging to an anointed rigmarole fashioned into the pottery of fungible metamorphosis rather than frangible pulverization that scrapes through liturgy with abnegation rather than relishing plumage beyond the apes of apish planetary scares.


Trimming the blockbuster wearisome hardihood of plumes of fumigated regal ******* in the softened epigone of whiter masks of screaming scares
The times aplenty of swansong ignorance are a plaid disaster of Twister renegades that spar against the visagist carapace of hearkened live aware of ghosts that fuel the hypocrisy of belligerent mares
Forever stranded through the finifugal heaves of a 32 leaves magician of rollicking base jumps with acidic tatters in King of the World stunts the hirsute body politic is a pump and dump trumpery of livid thrills on the substitution of funk for skunk rather than grooves for humps
Nevertheless the scrappy schlep of a foggy dreary destiny is ablaze with Sergeants blistering through Forest Gump bumps as the alighted 80s returns with a vengeance in empires of victory rather than slippages of slump
Renewed by the litigable menace of oilers ****** with crudity and swimming in the askew verdure of the lewd and **** we bolt through the coltish demiurge of fastened fascination flaming with firebrands of deliberation scampering away in blemishes of profanity too rude
We scrape the legacy of elegant injustice and injury because the flamestun hypocrisy of leprosy caused by time is a rustic blue suede shoe that flummoxes in hibernation because of staggered queues ravishing too much of a screwball to be nailed because black artifacts are always unscrewed
Thanks to teamwork the cosmogony of regalia knows the Montana providence of a lissome liposuction radical in renewal because of the Morrison Hotel rather vacant but always populated with a carpal tunnel of slick oleaginous dramatics for histrionic history likable because the news is a purple hue relishing the paradise of cineaste rundles of candlelit mood
Imagine searing the sunlit halidom of the peak-time grooves of unbuttoned blarney frank and swiveled on sclerotic pretense slippery in fashion only to be ironclad in personas of the whispered woo in termagant liturgy that is a colporteur of genius hinged upon collective suitcases of IOUs blameless because the criminal is always hatched upon a 108 pentagon of newsy gripping footage of managerial flames of a barnstorm beyond booths but never above the scarecrow minister of the voguish tempers of trudgery spawned into the folkspun homely ties and wrinkles of wizened love too Titanic to be used
Parker hobohemia scowls at the punitive warbles of marsupial kingpin southern flashes of hyperborean ramshackle ruins of pooches scampered around like littoral fragments of a cinematic crudity in defeated torpindage blistering with foresight in vengeance because the clockwork hour is amazed but horrified by belligerence in overdosed ledgers of legends amused
Time hearkens that craven radication of rhizogenic demiurge blinking above the sleeping awake ringleaders of sedition enthused because of malapert princes crackling with homage to honed sharpened edges of a double-edged whisper reversal into the antithesis of the heaving red serrated by the vindication of impertinent criminals flustered by the pinpointed genius of the Primarily Blues.
Time sees past the sedative fliction of fictitious mangers on primipara  tunes that the euphoria of the now is the cement of every LP belonging above the charlatans of chavish sutured into a surgical effigy of the whitewashed preeminence of discernment into the discs that surpass the ashen cordiality of permissive and permissible leaky faucets rasping through the headlines because of craters of love becoming glabrous above the halvorked entropy of newsy Newport News living above Virginia in Deep Impact legends tipsy on shipwrecks happening too soon to be  immaculate in any crimson style of an inescapable rhyme scheme trying with clambered witticism to achieve belletrist while escaping capstone filigrees of untouchable Terry Crews.
Flickering whimpers of the scary impenetrable Kansas City brain of the touchy hedges of fumigated marstions of erratic flackeys of breweries enthused in an amazed skullduggery of time slipping on crackles of fizzgigs of clambered retinues of radical roots between a tight avenue and a broadened broadway limping on the cinemas that belong to the truth and not the rickety barnstorm of ostentation encased by bonanzas to pontifical to create a topspin of HappyGilmore erasure in bridewells of roomy litigation in uncomfortable contortions of contacts without lenses to excuse.
In the cavernous spelunk of 1990s crimson bleeding into the  expansive liturgy of the ripples of percolation cornered into diminished vacancy anointed as ritualized contrition craving a tighter grip on the tightest swank that could ever be parlayed into New England madcap screws the hunters of the hunted hypocrisy become the travail of the antagonized epiphany of flackey rice in avaricious retches beyond the squabble of punks in due times for clockwork tickers and tickets swarming with infested blemish
The ridicule of sapience is the knowledgeable manicure of livid lurid hypertrophy in exaggeration of the knowledgeable tongue of the Flemish foundering on seaworthy chemists of menace and muse too suburban to ever be urbane bourgeosie limited rankled rancid rancor of ramshackle rackrent gouges too much of a Beetlejuice excuse.
Rhythm for the fulcate furrows of the hypogeiody of epochs slinkywith aced endeavors for misadventure likened to the greatest oiler in the 1980s terror list is a craven capture of photogenesis in rapture that fastens seatbelts of strawberry deaths of crackles of blinkered hubris accelerated by the twisters of vulcanized culmination blasted for history for headlines in ravines of mastery beyond the persnickety prestidigitation of magic sarcasm in the avalanche of dynasty never nastier than violence vile in acerbic posterization of plumage that is blacker than Rush Hour in the menace of Dennis in fractal philosophy funneled into one brittle muster of height rather than weight in freakish geometries of squirrels battering a home run cast away in fracture
Prabhu Iyer Nov 2016
There a dawn before the dawns
the first of the Gods that drunk of,
that we have a world
to cherish for:
light beyond all death,
hymn that hearkens to wisdom
a vast beyond the vasts:

oh our anchor past the
storms of lives,

this morning, Regina by love,
may we be of peace
drenched in Thy infinite
presence!
This will be a series of hymns to the Supreme as Goddess - I have found that the march of patriarchal religions has meant that there are very few hymns to address the feminine Divine, which to many seekers is the more natural expression of a Theistic apotheosis. Expect hymns and prayers for various occasions such as dawn, night, start of works, suffering, thanks giving...
Of these things, I'm sure
for, these things are true:
That God art the Father
of me, and of you.

He lives in the heaven:
The kingdom of light,
and destiny hearkens
us into its sight!

A body and soul,
of this we are made.
Temporal: Eternal
they never shall fade!

To grow and have purpose
is why we were born,
and we must improve
while in this sojourn.

Success is for certain,
and victory: sure
in every encounter:
For, I shall endure!

My passions: fulfilled.
My present is well,
and so is my future
my story will tell!

Exalted I'll die,
and saved will I be
In the kingdom of God
as prepared for me!

With God I will live
eternally blessed.
From trials, and pain,
and fear will I rest.

Of these things, I'm sure.
For, These things are true,
not only for me,
but, also, for you!

— The End —