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xyloolyx Dec 2014
yet another year zero
reinventing the squeaky wheel
constrained writing just for kicks
reviving a tragic hero
tabula rasa and leaky spiel
trained for fighting prickly ******
hollowing future and reticulating splines
swallowing nature then duplicating rhymes
only a blank drawing
at a bank withdrawing
funds splashing down like acid rain
workers trashing town with great disdain
fluxing bureaucracy
with ad hoc hypocrisy
go country for old zen
and then
shot glass shopping sprees
statues with haunting verdigris
from target to target
the stupid (never forget)
airport shuttles and toxic puddles
epic riddles while popping bottles
thrusting bodies and a fruity box
alternating current and topic drift
trusting hotties with shuttlecocks
baiting adherent with basic *****
eating that dog in a bar by the ditch
bar all rowdy with many shots taken
beer hall drowsy as closing time looms
far too loudly with identity mistaken
the band had us frankly and amply forsaken
awakening in a ditch as the a-bomb booms
a thousand soldiers ready for battle
at town's end with less depleted morals
worried about the deleted portals
we buried hell well without the cattle
no more long weeks of slicing ****** meat
origins about which they should not care
oh to sell knockoffs to the rich elite
hear their yells and use an odd nom de guerre
the profit and the revenue forecast
**** on the new road
the prophet and the parvenue act fast
pill for the wet load
he had dropped the load leaving pungent smells
in the dark it glowed and lit the deep wells
launching a rocket every four hours
we encounter yet more perplexing times
measuring success with fewer metrics
punching the clocks in tall black towers
changing the locks and the warning signs
altering quarters with newer ethics
cannibals watched while we profusely bled
fine forget it forget it forget it
ingest the capsule to induce the sweat
just relieve don't botch
figure figure figure
don't bereave think scotch
ticker ticker ticker
sounded like it came from someone shady
getting beat to end with some other blend
year to date murders now about eighty
yet today's statistics lie and pretend
fudging the digits to fake the assent
so what happened last week stays in last week
all of those painful jarring sights and sounds
making it all seem to look rather bleak
kept sly with pennies and kept shrewd with pounds
on alibaba we will not delete
separated heads from dark desert towns
metropolis with millions of dark souls
lighting up papers for a rapid trip
necropolis with brilliant harkening trolls
fighting the power in order to strip
their medals that they never earned at all
writing this line here and ******* the fall
straightforward message from a plain green rod
a photographer in obscure disguise
throw him into the main canal and nod
the coffee shop looks banal with just guys
losing interest quick and wanting to dip
touching that shiny pink wide-open clip
unknown underground studded with diamonds
mind-blowing trap sounds burst from the caliph
volume gets higher and heads start to ring
they came in sequence and then came silence
waking up confused in a condo lift
taking refuge in an ugly building
just invited myself into your home timeline
somewhat sublime reciting trifling rhymes
alter rhyming scheme to eschew couplets
now fully mobile and automatic
pentameter schemes and android tablets
tents and suburbs that look quite nomadic
recruited minions for the rebellions
human microphones sans inhibitions
quicken resistance to the man's big plan
invoking the crowd to buck traditions
spell that with an accent with great élan
broken mobile phone texting hexagram
a rapid drop in communication
a postal service mailing vexing spam
token for transit lost at the station
we can no longer go back to the farm
here in the city living these last days
sounding the airhorn and the fire alarm
seahorses as fish and whales as mammals
hard to keep track here of various things
went to the desert and smoked some camels
patient zero died sounding the alert
some will paint dark scenes with exigent themes
paintings so dire that your eyes avert
inverse distance decay in the network
old flags questing through the flood and tumult
of course these rhymes make them go **** berserk
losing sight of sites that house the occult
refusing to eat and wanting to drink
these words resonate with all those who think
utopia fell soon after completion
never understood humanity well
rationality ends with deletion
all the fine stuff just goes to *******
humans emitting alienating vibes
they form foul cliques like pups from putrid tribes
three ships all wrecked up in some unknown land
divulging harsh things and eating raw food
far too many times getting shunned and booed
had all my writings fully blocked and banned
still no dumb luck yet after x decades
recalled old friendships that have long decayed
more constrained writing that will make them groan
some will even see the trail left behind
writing all of this mostly in e-prime
punctuation-free zone made just for fun
lighting dark alleys with a mobile phone
some get all the love while others get none
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch ditch
glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch glitch
kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch kitsch
stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch stitch
twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch
yesterday's blunt stunt went to the gutter
no regrets no threats no whatever man
just like autechre and that song flutter
forget the police just rave on til dawn
**** how darkness has lasted this **** long
ominous songs here still pumping along
exponential sneers and the obscene scene
existential fears lit up with benzine
socially-accepted narcissism
honest thoughts here treated with cynicism
forget all -isms / go back to the scheme
spending days like these sniffing naphthalene
won't dwank to the masses or kiss *****
temperamental peers can go live that myth
experimental stage done and over with
(pause)
*
* *
*

✝ gone to a higher place ✝
Jordan Gee Nov 2021
Heaven is an Eye fixed atop a triangle
embossed along panes of stained glass
in a burst of color and
embedded on a transom above
an arrangement of young Amish girls -
one of them flipping me the bird.
white bonnets shining inside the dark street
and red reflections of the night.

God is in a mirror
reflected across one thousand other mirrors
held by a single hand and adjusted thereby
so that the light would be refracted through
a bent corridor in time
bending and extending through
far away dimensions that
i don't even know about.

Beauty lies in the 6 skinny trees
i water on the fifth day
drinking coffee when i see
one thousand rose petals drying
like the shores of the salton sea
and the six trees like a
hexagram of six dragons
like Heaven over Heaven in the sky.

one time I saw this image in my mind
when i closed my eyes
a vision of fire shaped like a phoenix
burned across the red horizon of my mind.
beyond the black behind the lids of my eyes
there is a red horizon over inner city deserts,
bird beaks buried in the sand.

I must honor the body’s lived experience
yet not give it any credence over Spirit.
its like i was being taken over and consumed
by a Greater Being.
it pressed all my memories up against hard glass.
different angles through extra spectrums -
it was raining hard prisms
It was like laser beams everywhere.
like heaven over heaven in the sky.

I was ripping off layers like a nest
of ten rattlesnakes tangled up in braided rope.
now there are magnets that float around inside my head.
there are times i don’t know if I’m doing the thinking - or the listening -
or whose doing the talking but
there are magnets floating in my cerebral spinal fluid
and they are electric and they are on fire.
and if i only had binoculars then I could see the singularity,
the gift of eternal life at the eschaton.

Heaven is the wind that lifts me up by the insides.
i  relax so deeply into the present sometimes
i forget to breathe -
were it not for the magnets inside my spine
pulling me toward the singularity and
the eschaton and the Bright Lights.

there are such amazing playlists on spotify
artists and genres i’ve never even heard of.
thank God someone figured out what
these emotions sound like.
benedictions in southern pennsylvania
on the JBL charge 4
and i think i’m starting to accept
that life in the earth plane is
a baptism by electric fire.

Glory be to God in the highest for
sending me His messenger
winging words made of silver helix
strands of vibrating concept complexes
so the mercury can bring the sulfur to the salt.

I throw my head back and laugh like a junkyard dog.
i’ve been searching for the philosopher’s stone for years!
i just called the chase by other names
and searched for it where i thought it was to be found,
where they told me it would be:
court street and MLK blvd, Newark, NJ,
trap house, Grant St, Hazelton, PA,
the American Club, red light district, Agana, Guam.
somewhere in the Pacific or a fist full of wax bags
from my partner ****’ down pembroke outside bethlehem, PA
and a ten pack of clean B and Ds, small gauge,
waiting for me on his kitchen table.
Heaven over Heaven in the sky.

I checked my phone over three hundred times today.
mostly this is a wretched habit of unconscious hand but
quite often the Everywhere Spirit gives me personalized
messages of rapid ascension via all the “woke” social media handles.
there is a fire inside my heart and it burns me from the inside.
sometimes it opens so wide you can fit the whole world in there
and not lose any elbow room.
and the magnets carry me to the tallest pedestal in the
sky where everyone can hear and
i tell them everything is going to be ok.
i’ve seen the bad path and i’ve walked it
and God placed magnets in my blood and
i made it back alive and all the church bells are ringing.

the Holy Ghosts of our ancestors rejoice for the
cutting of the silver chords so they can
all fly away home to heaven.
and through the grave yards that lost their church bells with the churches
i walk with bells in my hands and i ring them so
that all the ghosts can go home.

we had a heart opener one night.
we all sat around the floor and opened our hearts for each other.
they opened so wide that it rained electric fire to
where everyone could see it and that makes
for a good memory.
but nothing is as it seems,
nor is it otherwise
and my heart can suddenly slam closed like
the cellar door of leatherface’s texas prairie
subterranean basement lair.
and i’ve been there before
but the fire in my heart shines upon the faces
of the all devil’s dark armada
and they don’t scare me anymore,
such is the brilliance of the flame,
and such is the pull of the magnets god placed inside my blood.

its been more than ten winters since court street, newark.
but to this day i think sometimes about
that frozen cat lying by the curb.
stiff from all the jersey winter night prowlin
freezing up it’s blood.
my heart was closed that day,
hiding all my fire.
but if I saw that cat today, why…
i would open my heart so wide that
winter would be no more and
all the frozen hearts of our fathers and our mothers
would burst wide with such love that
the Earth would tremble and all the
neutron stars would shoot across the
red horizons of our mind
and the light of heaven would be
reflected in the mirrors of our eyes.
and this light would be so bright that
all the archangels and the devas would
be out of a job.

God is in the pinprick of light
fastened to the back of the
long tunnels of my eyes.
God is in the space after the release
of my preoccupation with the opinions others hold of me
God is in the street light shining on an
amish girl flipping me the bird.

By Jordan Gee
those who to Earth from Heaven came.
EgoFeeder May 2013
The practice before me was something so foreign
Their tempo of chant was that which evoked my adrenaline
The circle they worshiped began it's eruption of colors;
spewing a spectacle of radiance that was a spectrum of some other

The hexagram itself began to shine with an ominous gleam;
All but one vertex was a blaze; what could that mean?
Perhaps, their party of six was too small in number;
To awaken the demon from it's monotonous slumber?

To complete the ensemble of seven must be my own task;
The sprites were fixed in trance; I had no reason to ask
So, I sprang into motion and joined in their ritual dance
Finalizing their sacred rites and granting myself with reverence

The echoes of recitement deluded into something more strange;
One that my mortal ears could do naught but re-arrange
Into a bric-a-brac of non-sense derived from the past
I needed to contribute to the intonement for our progression to last

How could I ululate with the rest in my simple irrelevant language?
I inquired to my friends in hopes of restoring the veracity of my courage
The imp at my front spun his attention to answer my doubts;
For what truly matters is that which exhibits the earnestness of your quotes!

Aha My Brothers! I can now see without my cloudy vacillation;
The next verse I cast shall be the epithet of an immaculate alteration!
I must exalt for my falsifications and this facade of reverendum
These letters fixed in stone are merit-less and de omnibus dubitandum!

There shall be no greater wisdom than the acceptance of that fact
To dwell on the word of man is to dabble in what you've always lacked
Our deficiency of distinctive beliefs and the privilege of identity;
Every truth conceals it's delusion in a seemingly flawless sincerity!

I repeated my genial perspective several times until my breath was gone
The numbness in my torso was then expressed through a re-habilitating yawn
Followed by an out-pour of blood;Spewing from the confines of my lungs
Oh! What a righteous taste this is to speak in the devils' tongue!

For the throes of a sinner are not that of the wicked or holy blaspheme;
They are simply the inverted inquisition of the unanswered question maybe!
The concepts of free will and of good and evil are truly incomprehensible
as our minds are merely aware of relevance; Ignoring the unintelligible

Being enthralled by the dizziness of this new found anemia;
I commenced to utter the defeatists' call into the absence of Elysia
Witnessing no reply I fell to thy knees - cupping the blood I had spilt;
Raising the crimson liquid to thy mouth - consuming the life i'd built!

Which my new fraternal comrades admired with a fixed curiosity;
For I had undeniably turned water to wine and it was merely an impetuosity!
Laughter ensued and the fire of our ceremonial ring blazoned it's approval;
What a way to end an evocation! We had set the scene for our lords' revival!

To state his name for certain would be to use it in vain.
As the out-right ruler of this plane goes by many a name;
And none all the same ; How could a god be labeled as something you say?
If I may conclude in all modesty he is you and he is I. If I may ...
Yesterday was my birthday,
whereupon I became Twenty-two
so I decided to meditate on the day of Twenty-two
and the age of Twenty-two.

I pick up the coins
shake them in my cupped hands clasped shut
listen to the jingle of the Universe
trying to make up its mind
as to which coin faces face up

A few seconds of using my hands with the coins as a shaker
defining a sort of polyrhythmic cosmic probability;
I let them fly.
They crash down:

Two black and one white. Yang. Solid line.

I throw the second set:

Two white and one black. Yin. Broken line.

Third:

Two black and one white. Yang. Solid line.

Fourth:

Two white and one black. Yin. Broken line.

Fifth:

Two white and one black. Yin. Broken line.

Sixth:

Two black and one white. Yang. Solid line.
-
The Twenty-Second hexagram in the I Ching is Grace.
In it's unchanging form, Grace signifies a temporary period of harmony and of fruition.
It is a bad time to make big decisions, but it is a great time to work on one's self, one's craft and practices, and one's immediate surroundings.
-
Fitting that as I turn Twenty-two on the Twenty-second of the Fourth month,
the Hexagram I throw is number Twenty-two (2+2=4).
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Upon receiving the propitious omen,
let the chamber be arrayed in crimson silk.
The ten thousand things rise and return to their essence.
The tapestries part to reveal Pearl-gate
when Tiger Breath combines with fire in active contemplation.
The Empress approaches Mountain Hermit
and the landscape flows with harmony.
The ten thousand things transmute to pure chi
when Jade Daughter receives rising force in harmonious arousal.
Before moment of Clouds-on-Jade-Mountain Peak,
the Empress' crucible overflows with yin.
Her alabaster chamber yields its treasure willingly
if tiger of Cloud-Mountain Forest does not take it by force,
when Moon-Gate is opened by stealth
in the shadow of Cloud-Mountain Temple.
Burger King french fries
are not as good as Wendy’s—
but when you’re hungry . . .
Dondaycee Nov 2018
You love hearing.
You love seeing.
You love smelling.
You love feeling.
You even love the taste of life,
Bold statements arise: pentagon built pyramids; hexagram built light…

I’m speaking subtlety’s; the space between five and six,
Like that star David from CSI;
Eleven mirror, twelve depicts,

If they’re in prison, it was because of common sense,
If you’re successful, universe says you were dependent on the sixth…

We’ll acknowledge foundations as Gravity, Although they reflect;
Time as tragedy,
Too low to connect;
Space to one; a division within;
I’m thinking maybe this trinity could project a web,

Gravity is the outcome of manifestations existing;
Creativity transmuting energy that’s coexisting in a space in which polarities consisting,
Space is the frame that’s assisting;
A geometrical web full of light that infinitely splits simultaneously while it’s energy is shifting,
Time is the perception of distance between manifestations, it’s the same as predicting,
It doesn’t exist until it exists,
That’s a matter of apathetic wishing,

“He’s an oxymoron…”

We fear the unusual,
But we can’t possibly be normal,
That’s actually abnormal,
When we conform to others idealism, our realities become harmful,

Earlier I advocated that space is full,
If you’re pushing space in your own gravity, displacement will leave your mind full; time-poor,

Love yourself, because you love your five senses,
No need for senseless for it is why we sense-less before more,
That doesn’t mean closed door,
It means your time is poor;
How can you be of wealth if you’re missing idealism,
In such a situation you’re obligated to war;
Be informed, be young, belong life,
Disconform, keep ***** on your side,
Obliterate, reiterate, polarize,

You must know thyself before you know the sky.
EgoFeeder May 2013
To the shadows of branches that were erasing all light
and sheltering creatures that were hidden in night
Lurkers like me who can do nothing but hide
In perpetual solitude my time I must bide

Demonic imps were dancing by the treeline
With horrid faces of the queerest design
Intriguing my interest to enter the wood
Pulling me closer to the hill where they stood

Their song and dance had now faded to chant
As I hid by a bush becoming more reluctant
Suddenly they stopped and crept to a glare
Reveal yourself at once we know you hide there!

I'm sorry strange beasts I mean you no harm
As a matter of fact i'm infected with charm
Those words that you speak arrange to invigor;
my ear and thy mind the sound it does trigger

The skeptical sprites began to laugh and say
If you want to join in then come right away!
Drink fast this elixir for it will calm your mind
If thou art lord then he you will find

I took hold of the goblet with a hesitant sigh
The expressions around me had then turned so sly
I was beginning to ponder their commode and delight
and how I had not once left their sight

Is this some sort of antipathetic indignation?
What will be the extent of my inebriation?
I felt uneasy and I just had to ask
what manner of life lay under your masks?

Long we've been dead as you presumably guessed
We live in absence and are merely here as guests
For it's a Sabbath Night and 'tis our only vocation;
To meet with our followers at this very location

we've been waiting for hours but seen only you:
We need a mortal man to do what we do
So if I may return from my digression
It is time to begin the eve of possession!

As he finished his words I looked down at my drink
Examined the substance and began to think;
Of the words from a poet with peculiar luck
Write the unwritten and **** not lest ye be ******!

So, I Swallowed my pride and the brew as well
To embark on my unknowing journey through hell
My vision began to wither into the ugliest distortion
I knew at that moment there was no chance for abortion

My new found company began to frolic with joy;
For it was their Christmas and I was their toy
They cried and wallowed the hymns of the ******
Furiously racing around the most sacred Hexagram
nihiliti Jun 2018
stitched blades
encircling 6 second-
degree sliver-spaces
silver-bright to the eye
burning like freezing fire

cyclical in nature
and silent as the grave
signaling beyond the veil
into the world that awaits

summon soon, the ***** of doom
soak into the soil
sinister will, brought to boil
and bring to bear
against evil unto evil

redirect the arcs of energy
dark and wroth and my enemy
to receive in full
6 thousand times his due

may my malice, and his
channel through points six
a hex to rival Death's kiss
and the universe's callousness

reap what you sow, 6-fold, b‡tch
Would that the stars align to smite you.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
so when someone like paul joseph watson
begins to comment on depression....
that's when i go, slightly unhinged...
for someone who's never had the experience
the psychiatric act of regression:
implanting false memories in
the governance of psychoanalysis...
        that... that bugs the **** out of me...
michel de montaigne was a known
melancholic...
   whether it was him, or it wasn't him...
the observation resounds:
melancholics are the barometer of humor...
the NPS meme? that's funny...
but going after the depressed?
               curtailing yourself around
an explanation of...
   a social-byproduct?
         a lethargy originating from
a non-rigorous exercise
                           mentality?
no hamster on the wheel sort of *******?
oh i've been investigated
by the psychiatric community,
they even tested one post-graduate
psychiatry student on me...
            the drugs?
i don't have a problem with them...
sedated in body, active in mind...
           but having regression tested on me?
that ****** me off...
                a false alliance with
a forward-"thinking"...
     a critique centralized around...
somehow... not knowing how to use a language...
like i've been writing bad Chinese all
this time... coming from a, "fwend"...
who i remember... trembled before his father...
because he didn't remember
the alphabet...
                when he was scorned:
for not remembering the alphabetical
sequence...
               i'm starting to think...
sure... i get the humor... but... there is
no carte blanche on the table...
   which is why i steer away from taking
either side...
           it's become ugly,
    both sides of the "equation"...
neither side believes in
dialectics... shame... really...
      i didn't see a compromise on the horizon
to begin with...
            the English have simply moved
the concept of humor outside
the realms of what would be equated
into French as an Albert Camus novel...
the starter of the absurd,
before the main-course of existentialism...
because i find it hard...
that people have no idea about
an elevated status of lethargy...
    it's not like these people have grandparents...
who confuse old age lethargy with
hypochondria...
          and the general old age melancholy
of... ****... being old people with
grandparents... and seeing how their
grandparents... are not having children...
lethargy is the nuance
   bubbling under the consciousness of
a melancholic person...
                but ******* out of people
like that...
   it's just...
             too crass to even attempt the funny...
the English sensibility of good
humor is... dead...
      it's just crass, over-simplifying what
is, and what isn't, funny...
        i equate funny with:
some odd social interaction...
  but not a medical condition...
         a genuine medical conditions...
with people, "thinking" the solution to
an obscure lethargy that becomes
a cognitive / anatomical lethargy requires...
an invested typo of, humor...
so... what next? cancer, ha ha!
like that general statement behind
the lethargy of schizophrenia...
and lethargy is a word i'd put behind each
psychiatric diagnosis...
    the lethargic schizophrenic?
      unless bilingual: which already implies
a split-mind...
  well... he figured...
the world has gone mad...
let me step away, slow down, and watch
the circus... after all...
a madhouse conjured from a society,
requires, energetic engagement...
protests, slogans, hive chants...
    i can't keep up...
no chance in hell do i have the energy
to keep up with this amount of *******...
sure... i will be deemed senile...
like... schizophrenia isn't some sort
of abnormal, trans-mortal disease of
the brain that attacks aged brains
with its killer proteins akin to Alzheimer...
with all the useful idiots,
i guess i have to be the uncomfortable
"idiot"...
         see... i side with the "real" crazies...
the diagnosed as mad...
    i side with them...
because after a while...
                 they're like the wise turtles
of this world...
     sometimes you can't just...
treat a cognitive lethargy by being
prescribed a session in the gym...
    the mind counters the body...
after all...
  what was once a mind-body duality...
has become a mind-body dichotomy...
once psychology & psychiatry
established themselves,
as being taken seriously in the medical
branch of study...
  after the perfected anesthetic was
completed for dentistry...
and what is, psychiatry?
   psychology: with an injection of
pharmacology... nothing more...
nothing less...
       but please, please, ha ha...
                   i'm sympathetic to these
people's cries of woe...
      don't, just don't give me the simple
solutions... they're pseudo-scientific...
you've never seen a 79 old with
a lethargic hypochondria presuppose
   he's 20 year old melancholic...
            or rather:
because he's at the end of his tenure,
and is having regrets...
              it's not that i'm even "upset"...
but when you experience
the sort of lethargy that is depressive?
when you can't explain
   the exposure to the pentagram senses...
and can't conjure up a transcended
compendium of thought in the hexagram?
when you can't motivate
that sort of hierarchy of animation?
  when the pentagram exposure of
the senses, doesn't translate into
a hexagram of thought that subsequently
becomes motive to be?
   what the **** will going to the gym
to lift some weights ever do for you?!
The Apokálypsis is triggered and in a fraction of seconds, all appear in the premature appearance of Vernarth when all were waiting for him. Saint John the Apostle came from the iridescent nimbus escorting the curtain of othónes that filtered the Didaché that Saint John the Apostle brought in his patronage to make him a fellow disciple of primitive Christianity, and of the subtraction of the Twelve Apostles in congruence with the Twelve Islands of the Dodecanese to carry him apart from controversies. His purgation would vanish and a certain dating would begin that would merge with the thunderous projectile that would trigger from the Horcondising, then to Piacenza and would end up on Patmos tri locusing ..., it was a parapsychological projectile or mass of light in the score of the Didache's prayer or Propedeutics , which would date the demarcation of his chest when he was cracked by this pellet with a mass of light that pierced his fearlessness, and then would make him wake up from his parapsychology witnessing the Judeo-Hebraic catharsis at the beginning of the premiere of his religious ordinance in the Didache , providing the Judeo-Christian transition that would displace him through the centuries in the hecatomb of his Auric parapsychological mass, which would particularly make the fundamentalist predilection to inhale his intuition letting him know how to sustain himself more active than anything, but next to ascend to the Iridescent Nimbus where awaited him the radicality of the Mashiach, reviving in his primary ego baptism and Eucharist as or fragmentary of the biblical Canon making him the son of the apostolic patriarchs. Vernarth felt yielded but at the same time encouraged to know that the trajectory of the munitions with the mass of light would free him ..., and would take him through the epistles of the Codex or Codex Raedus, to be escorted by the Sybillas. The thickness of light that passed through the thymus gland reverberated in his Áspis Koilé that would hold it by the antilabé or Hoplon's hilt, which jointly ran the runaway projectile that was formed from his vigor and free Corpus that collided with the Kosmous where it was already extreme with the Arms of Christi in the patriarchal that ordered him to be part of the splendid Greek Orthodox Universe, specifically in the aedicule (Koilé, as a hollow shield) or Holy Sepulcher that made him exempt from the catalog of men sons of Hashem with more than two or three light paths in the Bios that had happened and that will happen! All clemency formed bewitching allegories that came from Antioquia that were contractually discovered interpolated into authentic adulterous women, who still depended on his inert entity, abandoning his nocturnal and spurious ethereal body.
Along with the chiaroscuro, the beams of mystery were transposed as a star that approached the vicinity of the Megaron that was anguished at the cracked guideline of the Opistodomos, indicating that the zoomorphic figures were coming that adorned all the symmetries that were crowned in the twelve stars that were emancipated from the orbit of Aurion. Vernarth felt an excessive burning on the back of him, making him prevail over crying, evictions of courage along with angels who carried flames that were absorbed in the chiaroscuro that sought to save him from all external subjects, like souls that intended to devour his absolved soul from Kathartiryum.

Between remanded expulsions they headed to the limen of Erebos that he transplanted from all the hollows that had teleported him from the infinitive of parapsychology, leaving him on the edge of his purification in his abscess like a skylight of Erebos, which would carry him into wandering spaces that ignored who could take pity on his conditional freedom at the expense of being freer than any body and his immortal soul, to cohabit in competitive everlasting worlds, which would personify him as superabundant of an underground world, towards the gift union to meet all his close beings free of all their redeeming quality, sentient if of all affiliation of the Caligo or Calígine that did not confiscate any hint of proceeding with or without senses that could thunder in the Vanguards of the Vernarthian Poems, where the Aether held him like the Porpax or bracelet in its primordial phase that would illuminate the vast earth, considering it as custodian and with assignee shadowing of Darkness where every fabulous impression would have to consider him a primal being of the Kosmous and the Calígine or darkness, which would soon carry the fabulous shudder of the introductory Aether where the Kingdom continues to feed back mortals and immortals, while all millennial past approaches the future with great commemorative glosses that revive, and make everyone join together in their commemorations, nevertheless leaving in their usufruct Heaven in the canopies of each dwelling, and of the future Hebrew that will be reborn in future Hellenic reincarnations, even when it is not intoned the hymn that will fly in colossal times.

The sacred word of the Apokálypsis was written alone in regard to the fact that it would not happen yet, where a holy case could be precipitated in a profusion of the garment that waved for whoever decided to see everything that is intangible, and that his diadem would alight before all who do know that they can aspire to a ceremony with hundreds of aid before all those who come saved from the Kathartyrium, narrating to him with winds and privileges that they wanted to possess him and warn him revived, before being handed over to the Mashiach who was moving before Vernarth. Swift golden eagles run on the roof of the Opistódomos, where the wrathful Eden gurgled that only Venarth could distinguish once he grasped the massive edges of the Himation. Here he kneels and asks the Mashiach, to grant him a tiny consent before escorting him, to reunite with all his descendants who would leave with the Hexagonal Birthright.

From the six edges that appeared in the Hexagonal Birthright, the identity silhouette of Eurydice, King David, Raeder, Petrobus, Saint John the Apostle, and Vernarth, once close to them, would go on the sixth Giga camel so as not to question themselves in some reverse diaspora that takes them into organisms where they do not wish their souls to be transferred. The verses booed by the Old Testament wind, or from the Old Testament, were invented in the analogy of Vernarth's Emptying or Ekénosen, leaving behind the footprints of the sixth ungulate, consolidating its sleeping body between lavenders and astragalus that were re-grafted from annihilation on the same ruins of the silence of himself (Myein). Vernarth was already chaff of the wind and incarnation of the same chaff that rose from the plantar legs of the sixth Giga, here they will be transfigured in its immaculate spectrum with golden trim by stoically using the Himation, and knowing how to reject any apathy at the power to silence his senses and ignore, that seven steeds with their vermilion eyes would pass at great speed and in the opposite direction, trying to ****** the kenosis of any of the six that claimed to be usufructuaries in the work of who can take the Life of any fiduciary steed that take away in your boldness.

The Sixth Camel was dislocated in the polygons of the Star of David, seeking the six edges of each linear that was destined to the six concatenations of the six bifurcations of the Hexagonal Birthright, forming the hexagram that somehow impelled them from the coincident central of the segments that would unite them even though they were intervals of each planting of each camel, simulating a hundred kilometers of distance to be the closest to the Opistodomes that would receive them in the resplendent Cinnabar flowing in triangulated equilaterals within the conformation of the Vas Auric or Beatific Medallion that it floated within the naos and the ceremonial physical structure. Everything was attributed to the Entasis of the Megaron that was combined in the mechanics of triangles that were attached to the concentric one of the Vas Auric, there were a hundred kilometers of routes where each dilation narrowed in dimension zero that bounced with another congruent zero of the six points of the Primogeniture and the vertices of the Star of David, from the fords that waved the generous Semitic skills, which alluded to the other haven of the concentric hard shoulder that turned them into six curbs of the same seat that was engaged in the Kenosis in the validated proportion of the auction that became friendly on the sixth camel, very close to him until the last step of the plantar basement is issued, thus allowing the same fatal wind from the desert of eternal life to destine him to the esotericism of human nature dressed in military garb , heir to all the panoply that would desert its guarantees when the sixth camel approached the first Giga where Saint John the Apostle was going. Everything was understood as a Vas Auric or reliquary of the Seal of Solomon immersed in the six points that symmetrically coincide with six dramatic points that would indicate the contiguity of the last hundred kilometers before reaching the last second and of the mystical power that would become resonant with six universes to later be transferred to the mighty Duoverso in each bias. The regular hexagon that King David conceived was made by lowering his head, almost touching the palfrey of the steeds that followed him rapidly running near his camel convoy, the opposing forces joined the hexagram of the Birthright in the Pentagram of King David, demonstrating little clarity of biblical innate gnosis to attend to the Old Testament of the remote metamorphosis, lavenders were already authorized that would penetrate into the Dipylones of the Megaron, in the face of any confusion that will be indicated as an Agia or a splendor synagogal that Vernarth presumably already dimensioned of the Universe behind his back of this same one so as not to revile the presence of the Mashiach by taking him out of the abject Kosmous, which filled him with ill-contained hopes of bad conjectures and stale past pundonor ..., not being self-referential! The twilight was unwound in the midst of the light orientation of the Star that would guide them as Unitarianism through the retrospective that would be added in intrepid pasts within another equal to himself, to make him Israelite-Hellenic, who would safeguard the Apokálypsis as the shield of emptying of his body granted by the Kenosis immersed in a Kosmous or recondite body, taking him together with Saint John the Apostle to the Dodecanese and the dodecagon itself, full of tribes that do not reposition themselves from the mega imagination when shepherding and traveling the immeasurable distances of Universal Faith submerging in fire and water, inciting the Macedonian Mezuzah as a pentagram or Five Strokes that vindicate the "V" Lacedaemon as a Penta or five that would initiate Vernarth as an inheritance of the world where everything is mentioned in the Fifth Dimension or Ependysi Imatos in the Investiture of the Himation of Vernarth.
Apokálypsis
James Jul 2020
(He)I’ll free Buchenwald and Belsen eventually
Or maybe (I)He’ll lie here
Morose as the faces on Mount Rushmore        
For the first time I(He) recognized a universal neural network
A reserved self programming, algorithmic logic to all things
(I)He grinned, an intelligent uniqueness programmed
An open circuit on a yin line
Nothing is true, everything is permissible
A Closed circuit on a yang line
I(He) re-enters the cafeteria naked and hungry
(I’m)He’s closing in on the Illuminati
I Ching hexagram closes on a yang line
Alexander Witte Feb 2014
I.
I see the basin
The river
The dirt and filth on All

Some look like raisin
they shiver
As their world would shrink so small

I see the Lamb
The Angel
The Hexagram or crossed poles

II.
My mother told me to wear red on that day
Though she wore yellow
My mother told me not to yell on that day
Oh, how she curtailed a fellow

My father wasn't to be seen that day
At that time he was  scarce as a swallow
I think my father wore green that day
and so unlike my mother he could never wallow

III.

"Ark.."
Shiver
Sacred Candles
The voice coaxed up from the mountains
"Love...Thorn...Cup"
Purple Tasseled Majesty
IHS They say. Were the others?
in the memory bank of a jellyfish:
that little microcosm of life
per se

this undisturbed avenue in evolution
kindness
electric pulse
in aqua

light travelling in no stretch
of posit
an origin E = MC (speed of light cubed,
speed of light cubed
speed of light cubed
as static, posit,
speed of light cubed,
evidently this implies
the other two letters being changed
but if there's an equation with
the speed of light squared
then there must be an equation
with the speed of light cubed...
if there isn't: or there never will be
an equation with a:    "E=M"C³

        regardless of ENERGY and MASS
but there has to be an equation
with a C³... the speed of light cubed...
if there isn't one
i'll call it yet another Dead End of Darwinism:
then clearly our intellect has
no evolved to compete
with the Insect Lady and her Talking Mushroom
Lamp...
or the Dinosaur grandiosity
brought down to lizard and bird continuity
it's as if there was no meteorite
just the ******* madness of the moo! moo!
moooooooon and seas and tides!

lost the plot of emoji and "forgot"
to place it on canvas:

thinking aloud painting
that's what poetry is
i need those symbols

like the Star of David and the *******
those drool assigns
i have

             tick tock... tick tock:
  
    卍 (tilt: // to the side: clock! clock! twist!)
because i need a reference for:
     Schläfli symbol...
                   a hexagram is not the star of david
a hexagram is not the star of david
tilt the star of david and i'll show you
a hexagram:
an opened book
and reading on a square of camel hind
in a desert
wish there were stones in a desert
and mountains
but poor me thought the deserts
were missing hills so raised mountains
blindly following love
and all purpose throughout meaning
of this shared earth: hearth...

                    at least one H in the equation
if seriously:
all these Jews want to remain post-genocidal
insecure about what's no longer
mysterious then we can flood
Europe with as much post-colonial hangovers:

but i swear: the downer comes
with: but i am stronger and of more prided
intellect than others
and for no fault of my own
am i to tell my father: hey! you!
yes! you! colonialist!
*******! **** the right: off!

         obviously the war in Ukraine
is not of the English persuasion of concern
those lax dods and sods of the "intellectual"
class not kings
not the privy council the lazy liberal ****-whats
i mean those newspaper folk
those scribblers and cobbler-wannabes
i mean those bunch of people
how mammalian flesh alight in the heat of
an argument...

smoked a joint that's marijuana
and tobacco
drank a shy whiskey sharpshooter
that's 2:1
of whiskey to coca coca
cola the ancient Indians of Paraguay
are talking
about La Bambino Bamba

in an "alternative" reality there is a journalistic
script that says:
the Euros 2024 did happen
and i saw a populism in motion
in nothing like an echo chamber
can't make the Coliseum into an Internet
Meme Echo Chamber
have to be real bro: shitz hyphen and *****
twitch at the ***** erotica of
a volcano

in an age where homosexuality is
as the supposed degeneracy of cis fibric
frombosis: phrombosis: thrombosis:

F: Fulvark: hawk: bee: buddha:
fly...
the German police were imploring
the English fans to smoke a joint
rather than drink too much beer
hey! mate! license or no t.v.
your superstars only won
a sly / shy

victory over the moon and the mood
of the Serbs:
like the victors France against
the AXIS power of the Eastern *****
and i believe
that Nietzsche a German
was adamant about what the Germans
did to the Prussians
and what the "elsewhere" didn't do
about the Estonians and the Finns
and the Lithuanians

just saying: France superstar also won
a minor victory just
a one nil
against the Eastern *****:
the Austrians are the only people
known to the Slavic people west of the Oder
and i implore you to not justify
that Darwinism has dead ends
if this supposed fixation on evolution
and then the geniuses that brought
down Pluto
i can't contest intellectual prowess to keep
feeling less and less amazed
less and less and less in awe
i just think about bread
oh and dough
and yeast
and i think: i think that i think, i think...
my soul is shattered
i have no internal breath of a coherent narrative
the German police implored the English
football fans to not altricate: articulate
the budding Serb hunger for violence
this amazing South *****
of Yugoslavia
and big boy language: i have a hairy chest...

POWER IS BLACK
POWER IS THEN GRAVITY OF NOTHING
yes, not the: that's not a misspelling
but a continuation in CApital:
power is that a drawing nearness of death
prior: impediment

in the memory bank of jellyfish:
bells of eternity - a dream of a song
of actually enjoying music
like some telekinetic hypothesis of an itchy brain
whereby a Mushroom donning a Venetian
Carnival Mask
is playing me primitive... "tunes"...
the jellyfish and perhaps our organic history
stretches into the dinosaur realm
of existence
that felt because HAD endoskeletons
but the dinosaurs didn't die
but evolved into miniatures of birds
and great hawks
and our mammal father the WHALE

but as i was smoking and drinking
an unlikely companion:
i never thought flies to be nocturnal insects
but there's always one
super-freak Beelzebub Bob and my pierced
ego my pride like a flickering light
a honing of an idea to another idea

but even if this earth once entertained
giant insects
and talking mushrooms
mammals and reptiles are pretty good
for extending our consciousness
i'm talking pre Bible imagination
much further
from Dinosaurs
that became birds
Holiest of All the Crows of Odin
and the Swans of Athena...

there was a time of giant insects
and giant insect brains
or rather the microcosm organic history
a history of body
not of stone

then i wandered outside the garden of Eden
into the Land of Ende (no, not Ened)
there's already the Den of Ned the Flander
in some Simpson
O what dark day i imagined
myself with a child watching Sunday afternoon
t.v. not able to trip out
with a scribble with a doodle not hallucinogenics
please
this ardent father

so i wish to become

so in a time of fervent homosexual pride
me loving a single mum of 55
no better *** than menopausal love
no seriously just watched how people
ugh: flake under the puppet skeleton
some flesh of 16 year old ******* proofs of
*** that are girls:

with enough perspective of time
i can speak concerning being:
there are just too many dead ends in the theory
of evolution!
you can't see the evolution of a spider
into a over-spider of an ant...
i must have brought in at least five this week
walking through the garden
they hitchhiked on my ears
into a death surface reality of moon
walking on a toothbrush and a sink
not Schindler's bread and butter emanel:
Immanuel Immanaeul:
You'll...             You'll...        and You'll Do This...

a serpent uncurled from around
the tree of knowledge
and having given birth to the fruit
in an insomnia of winding
and travelling from start to star
wriggled forward in time
ate Sisyphus
and started to clutter with a Hieroglyphs and
Chisel:

but those talking mushrooms
and giant insects would leave no traces
except for the moisture in the air
not like dinosaurs and pressed hard
black olive oil of locomotion
but instead
from such a harsh environment
with salt for water in the seas
these creatures left us
breathable air!
Nitrogen in abundance
but only enough sanity for 20% of air...

pre-dinosaur times...
   if we're going as far back as beginning
the universe...
religion can't compete, unless:
it get's a psychedelic booster JAB...
a language usage imprint
of said USER working with AI...

but if we are really going that far back:
i can look away from
belittling humanity as the currency
of NOW:
there is a currency of NOW: realistic interaction
there's the currency of ONCE:
there's the currency of IF
and the currency of...

       evidently too much Joyce... just thinking:
maybe aloud...
but certainly tripping on alcohol and marijuna
and before i die
and i'm at the stage of two hydro-cells on the brain
like Martin's like two watery
eyes
then i will create an advent of mushroom
tripping
and open my other 2 and 4
of seeing
since the eyes are an *****
unthinkable before kidney failure
or to think of eyes
are nostrils because there are 2
to think of the mouth as eyes: sensationally...
preposterous...

     ugh... but before the Dinosaurs
there were the talking mushroom overlords
and insect people
who left no skeleton proof
because they had mush inside and strength
outside
         so just the moisture in the eye
and time capsules messages
they left us hallucinogenic mushrooms
to travel back in time
past the eons of admiring those unlucky sods
the reptiles that weren't given slack
like Satan
because from dinosaurs to birds
couldn't devolve from short T-Rex hands
big mumma FI thyes thyme black girl running
so the bible is a word
from the reptiles via the mammals to
the insects and talking mushrooms
we got hit by a meteor!

           those ape mummies are toiletry
such idiots
chaos ensues no natural set order
this will not continue i'm sure of it
how warm the intellect
but what if lizard people had a chance
to boil water in a kettle... too!
but we are just their locomotive juice
to ******* UBER their groceries
from 100 meters away!

there are dead ends in Darwinism
just to clarify
thanks for collecting all the species
but let's put the Lament Configuration
back together:
these are: dead ends... don't you think?
will an ant evolve into a super ant?
will man evolve into a superman?
will humanity ever congregate at a major
sporting event as a count
of individuals or as a disintegration
of rigid formula that might disqualify
an ethnocentric identification process:
of evolutionary scrutiny
of not seeing the details in bedtime stories
something to scare the children with?

dead ends: static: evolution is not exactly
dynamic:
it's a Dead Science...
biology is as much a study of stones
in the miasma of mountain
but still minerals in the blood
and the pulling and pushing apart: toward
a together...

happiest so: alone...
regressing: so my love is bad but two
men and a third by himself
crossdressing to X his mother
and that's mammalian grip is
insufferable
but if history begins with volcanoes
and Dinosaurs
maybe i don't want to think about
a shortcut via the Sumerians
because: apart from the Egyptian
phonetic encoding
sharing Europe with Africans
is like: calling the Neighbors of the Continent:
Slavs the stupid Inquisitors of Communism
of Yiddish Intellect
not Hebrew not Israeli
maybe the Bilingual Monstrosities of the Yids
had to be stamped out
for the raising of Israel...
maybe? don't you think?

well it would certainly help some
countries to get on the Bilingual Ladder
like it would be great
for America to become a Bilingual Nation
a grander Switzerland
a bigger Canada
a marriage of Spanish and English
would only cement a superpower
while we could have a marriage
of the Slavs with the Germans
since the French and Especially the English
have outright rejected the Germans
at least the Austrians could soften the blow
and i could too...

my my how i love using such big words
relating to people
but mind you i was hypervigilant
on the point of paranoia
at the Champions League Final
talking to German Secret Police
at Wembley...

and that's a true story
i was also outside the one talking to youths
when the cordon on Spanish Steps
was put on by the bettered
coordination of Police with Security
Staff...
the soft police can you imagine
a police officer writing a poem,
would anyone read it?
perhaps thinking about the Club of Fetishes -
some time to relax
but i just want vanilla and juicy
and plump of plumb...

that's my girl: right there...
and like a ******* at a gay pride parade
let me do my:
Uncle Paradiso:
          Sam Smith'oh Unholy:
in the vinyl store i just heard: BAHBYHLON:

mommy don't know...
yeah: i was at the "£ body shop £"
paid £130 for giving a 20 year old
Romanian ******* a massage
after she was spanked to a glitter of blueberry
on the *** with rough love rough love
lion love i am the crab: pick up
soft spoons soft metal

happy to ******* a priest...
happy to ******* a priest...
happy to make a priest a Hashem: Kosher: Halal...
happy to make a priest a kosher
ooze: then some SALT!

salz salz! and the piper of pepper!
salz salz! and the piper of pepper!
Mike Essig Apr 2015
I concentrate on your name, your face, your words
and throw the coins to call the hexagram,
dipping into The Great Flow for a random answer.

It gives me #46, Advancing, which contains:

There is no need to worry, things will go well.

How cool is that?

Even the universe flows in our direction.

   ~mce
I-Ching, The Chinese Book of Changes. An oracle. One of the oldest texts in the world.
Universe Poems Apr 2022
One star that's all
The sky will still be lit
With a light aura
A single star,
out of the eyes corner

© 2022 Carol Natasha Diviney
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2019
.perhaps that's how the majority of the anglophonic world responds to absurdity, via comedy, via that shlogan: keep calm... worry later, laugh nervously... but given that the 20th century saw the french and the germans, attempt grappling with existentialism, and the absurd... to now see the anglophone world jump the train, late, as ever... and somehow catch-up with mainstreaming the absurd, or existentialism, as if it were a subject matter for: dummies... absurd literature... contemplated in silence, counter the absurd reality... staged, via comedy, with an immediacy of reaction? whereby the desired reflex is laughter... but where there's no canned laughter "compensation"? oh... i'm sure you'll find it hard to translate the absurd from a french mind, into an english gob, via the medium of comedy... given that comedy is absurdity per se... something without a need for focus... and now... ascribing it a focus of attention / address (of "concerns")? you're kidding me, right? some jokes aren't funny... like the best comedy is the sort without a premeditated script? spontaneity being the mother of slap-stick? in situ and (in) quo tempus? the anglophone world partied for most of the 20th century, now they're playing catch-up with 20th century continental thought... obviously allowing themselves the chance to side-track the whole "game" of "catching-up" via the medium of comedy... if that were true... we'd have to ******* "ditto" out, every single ******* word in the lexicon, and put a comma in-between all the words... to allow a fathomability of an unfathomable canvas of nuance.

while watching the gavin mcinnes
interview for 1791...
     ah... pedantic pet peeve...
as someone who comes with
a full-bodied array of accented
parents, 1st migrants...
            oh... look... ****... so am i!
thai...
                lady-boy ******* thrill...
tirade vs. tirade...
h'americans, all sounds the same...
there was no actual distinction
being made...
             from poland to england,
from england it was supposed
to follow: argentina then u.s.a.,
to find out what happened to
my maternal grand-father
who disappeared in a suicide attempt
at the Niagara Falls,
or at least that's where
   we sent his last postcard from,
polyglot, spoke 7 languages...
apparently...
   you wanna know the proper,
old continent variation?
      tyrad: no, not "i tire of trade" -
tire-aid,
              if you want lessons in
elocution... you've come to the right
place...
   i'm entrenched in england,
looking out at no-man's land...
**** on me... the ******* Atlantic!
no: not tire-aid,
ty-rad...
    it's written tirade...
but you can also speak it as follows:
tyrad(e)...
  english, mandible...
like a jaw...
                       like you want more
hyphens, intra-verbum,
to ease off the syllable puncture
wounds from the already
sharpnel post-deutsche of
anglican ßaß?
            how about i cite a magyar
psychiatirst, a dr szasz...
now we're talking!
     i asked one barmaid...
is the S or the Z the surd,
or is it equivalent to the ******
version of sharp objects?
   **** it, let's go full zeppelin and
just write the interchange grapheme...
ßaß...
    the house of ßaß of Poland...
Poland, the brothel of monarchs...
foreign rulers came in,
ruled,
   then with fickle brains
decided to carve the territory up...
no wonder...
  the current "rulers" of Poland?
like allowing the Eire to rule Iceland...
paradoxical complications
of sorts, never to be resolved...
thai-raid...
       thai-rad.,
                    inject an aspect of
the tetragrammaton into the equation...
and you'll find yourself
in the company of latin gnostics,
not the greek sort,
        hey, if every letter in this phonetic
script is a pair of *******
and a waggling tongue of
invitation within the protruding *****...
the arabs are all high-minded
with their scribbly lines...
and the necessary open orthography
in road signs,
at least the jews managed,
somehow,
   to hide their vowels,
as diacritical marks...
   on street signs?
         a ******* vowel roulette...
good luck spotting the wheel of

                            a (kametz)

        
i (chirek)                                           o (cholem)





              u (shurek)                   e (tzere)      

mind you: that's an anti-thesis of
the Zen concept of en-sō           -
you can't exactly draw a perfect
hexagram...
     but you can... when drawing
a pentagram... the eastern circle,
is the western pentagram...

   same **** with h'americans teaching
the english to spell out
and speak: spaghetti -
   pierdolone kluściaże...
oh look...
    another googlewhack!
kluściaże
   http ://tiny   url.
                  com/y5p    n745c...
that wasn't me,
                was it? 'throth'?

it's almost like discovering a cymry Y
(sim-roo)
             we can play this game,
day in, day out...
become very pedantic about
all those, many, many, many english
idiosyncratic variations of:
where diacritical markers should
be placed,
where a phonetic writing
of an otherwise orthodox speaking
of the word,
    and all the lack
of orthography, beside the base
of spelling...
   reading one language,
speaking the same language
differentiate...
   and how english just allows
a plethora of accents...
                       you name it...

this is my avenue,
i get off right about, now...
       staring too long at
the mendeleev table...
   i'm seeing cut-and-fix "problems"
that require explaining...

    the time is ripe,
    i can't just leave Ezra *****-nilly
on the fence...
should i ever visit h'america?
   two places i want to visit,
the fly-over states,
   and little town h'america...

      no... nothing else...
not the grand monstrosities of
the urban enclaves...
not exactly the pompous north-east...
or the detached north-west...
            as that some askance-neu -
perhaps texas...
           i'd love to see
little-****-town-h'america...
          the outliers...
        where the gąsienica
     of the czołg...      
   (caterpillar of the tank)
    has made pâté of the mount of pol ***:
as much bone as brains...
   a porky-porky fetish
                         of imagination -

nope...
      a place i could mesh myself into...
"disappear"...
        
      tie-raid...
    ty-rad...
 ­                  poe-tay-toe...
                             p'oh-t'ah-t'oh      

sure, sure, same language...
cricket, baseball.

   p.s. wanna see the phonetic tongue
on a word such as, fade?
sure you do:
                               fay'd.
I.
I contemplate nom de plume (a).
The nomenclator (b) pax (c) kiss of peace (d) .
Coddle (e) the dowry (f) , the dowsables (g) pas de deux (h) .
Fill the kyack (i) with tidytips (j) from California , that land lease (k) .
No irrational number (l) , reality two (m) .

Definitions:
(a) non de plume - pen name.

(b) nomenclator - a book containing a ciollection of lists of words or names .

(c) pax - from Latin pax vobis (peace to you) or pax vobiscum (peace with you). A pax is a liturgical object used in the Middle Ages and Renaissance for the Kiss of Peace in the Catholic mass . It began to replace the actual Kiss of Peace in the 13th century .

(d) Kiss of Peace - An ancient traditional Christian greeting.

(e) coddle - treat in an indulgent or overprotective way .

(f) dowry - property or money brought by a bride to her husband on their marriage .

(g) dowsables - obsolete word for sweetheart or lady love .

(h) pas de deux - a dance for two people , typically a man and woman . A duet in ballet.

(i) Kyack - a packsack to be swung on either side of a packsaddle . Two connecting sacks .

(j) tidytips - an annual wildflower native to western North America .

(k) land lease - leasing the land upon which a tenant may own the home but not the land .

(l) irrational number - is a real number that cannot be expressed as a ratio of two integers . A number with an infinite number of digits .

(m) reality two - Jen Oliver Meiert - two realities . One is the physical reality . And the other is psychical reality .


II.
Fatten on krass (a) and farina (b) , fanfaronade (c) , mordancy (d) , honey and beurre noir (e) on toast .
Nothing to ambsace (f) !
The guidon (g) carried by a guidon betraying the one ,
"one's fancy" only to be crushed by a juggernaut (h) . . . promace (i) .


(a) Krass - German for gross or coarse .

(b) Farina - name in the U.S. for milled wheat .

(c) fanfaronade - arrogant or boastful talk .

(d) mordancy - a biting or caustic criticism .

(e) beurre noir - French for black butter .

(f) ambsace - the lowest throw of the dice .
Something worthless or unlucky .

(g) guidon - a pennant typically attached a pole that narrows to a point or fork at the end . A standard for light calvary .

(h) juggernaut - huge and overpowering force .

(i) promace - animal tranquilizer .


III.
Could I quintuplicate (a) the subdebutante (b) becoming tag end (c) ?
Would I cozen (d) the bulblet (e) from the branch Circe (f) ?
The Elaine (g) of long ago evanescent (h) my Hesperus (i) friend .
To Hesperides (j) especially , the Jinni (k), lowball comedy (l) .


(a) quintuplicate - fivefold . To multiply by five .

(b) subdebutante - a girl in her mid teens about to become a debutante .

(c) tag end - the last remaining part of something .

(d) cozen - to trick or deceive . Obtain by deception .

(e) bulblet - small bulb produced on a larger bulb .

(f) Circe - Goddess , nymph , enchantress or sorceress of magic . Daughter of Helios and either Oceania or Hecate . Able to change people into animals with potions or incantations .

(g) Elaine - the women of Arthurian legend who died of unrequited love for Lancelot . From Greek , a girls name meaning "sun's rays or shining light" .

(h) evanescent - soon passing out of sight , memory , or existence . Quickly fading or disappearing .

(i) Hesperus - the planet Venus . Evening star .

(j) Hesperides - legendary garden found at the western extremity of the world that produces golden apples . The nymphs that with the aid of a dragon guard the garden that grows the golden apples .


(k) - Jinni - also Genni . In Arabian and Muslim mythology the intelligent spirit with less ranking than an Angel that can appear in human or animal form for the purpose of possessing humans .

(l) lowball comedy - a deceptively crude comedy with underlying meanings .


IV.
My Maginot Line (a) , my Magen David (b) . . . before you board mae west (c) .
The squirting sea cucumber .
The Sammum Bonum (d) goes .
It's Watch Night (e) like a watch pocket (f) .
Zombism (g) we have digressed (h)
The incunable (i) mickle (j) , the  micawberish (k) pentagram (l)
exposed .


(a) Maginot Line - weaponized concrete fortifications built by France in the 1930's to keep Germany out .

(b) Magan David - originating from Medieval
Arabic literature . A hexagram (overlapping equivalent triangles) that was used as a talisman on protective amulets and was known as the Seal of Solomon . In the 18th century it was adopted by Jewish interest as the Star of David .

(c) Mae West - Personal flotation device (PFD) , life preserver . First inflatable life preserver created by Peter Markas in 1928 .

(d) sammum bonum - Latin . From Rome's greatest orator meaning 'The highest good' . Virtue .

(e) Watchnight - a service also called Watchnight Mass is a late night Christian church service . Held on late New Year's Eve . Also called Freedom's Eve service , a celebration and remembrance of the Emancipation Proclamation (enacted January 1 , 1863) which freed the slaves in the Confederate States during the American Civil War .

(e) watch pocket - extra fifth pocket on the right side of blue jeans made for a size 16 pocket watch .

(f) Zombism - the Kongo and Kimbundu system of religious rites . Characterized by worship of a snake diety during Voodoo rites .

(g) digressed - leave the main subject temporaryly in speech or writing .

(h) incunable - a book , pamphlet , or broadside ( a critical response) printed in Europe before the year 1501 .

(i) mickle - a very large amount .

(j) Micawberish - resembling the character of Wilkins Micawber in the Charles Dickens novel
David Copperfield . Especially optimistic to the point of being irrisponsible .

(k) Pentagram - five pointed star used in ancient Greece  and Bablyonia . Which is used today as a symbol of faith by many Wicans and said to have magical powers and associations .


V.
While the rabalo (a) swims the tropical seas
succes de scandale (b) .
While the Exmoor (c) ponies exert , ****** (d) in-and-out (e) .
And the Langur (f) from Laos
lies lethargic , drinking meadowsweet (g) ale .
The Nereids (h) tease and pase (i) in polyrthym (j) .


(a) Rabalo - common snook or sergeant fish .

(b) succès de scandale - a success due to notoriety or things of a scandalous nature . Public controversy .

(c) Exmoor - an area of hilly open moorland in west Somerset and north Devon in South Wales England named after the river Exe . Ancient royal hunting grounds .

(d) ****** -  Queen of Asgard and wife of Odin . Stepmother of Thor and adoptive mother of Loki .

(e) in-and-out - copulation

(f) Langur - long tailed aboreal monkey with a characteristicly loud call .

(g) meadowsweet - or mead wort is a perennial herb that grows  in damp meadows in Europe used to make medicine .

(h) Nereids - In Greek mythology the Nereids are sea nymphs , daughters of Nercus and Doris and known to be friendly and helpful to sailors .

(i) pase - a maneuver with a cape used in bullfighting meant to get the attention of the bull .

(j) polyrthym - a rthym which makes use of two or more different rthyms simultaneously .



VI .
The enchantress in a jaded jodhpur (a) .
So kitsch (b) with the live stream (c) mouth .
A menu (d) with folded mantis hands , a Nazarene (e) .
An à outrance (f) , an abstraction (g) .
***** envy (h) , reach-me-down (i) , rest house (j) south .
The simoon's (k) coming , simon pure (l) in simony (m) .


(a) Jodhpur - also called riding breeches . Tight fitting trousers that reach the ankles ending in a snug cuff worn primarily for horse riding .

(b) kitsch - German meaning ****** art . Excessively garish or sentimemental art usually considered in bad taste or lowbrow .

(c) live stream - to stream digital data . Data that is delivered continuously and is usually intended for immediate processing or playback .

(d) manu - (Sanskrit) is a term found in Hinduism . In early texts it refers to the first men , (progenitor of humanity) .

(e) Nazarene - native of Nazareth . A member of a group of German painters
working mainly in Rome who from 1809 sought to revive the art of Medieval Germany and early Renaissance Italy .

(f) à outrance - exorbitance .To the limit .

(g) abstraction - freedom from representational art . Dealing with ideas rather than events .

(h) - ***** envy - the supposed coveting  of the male ***** by a young female according to Sigmund Freud .

(i) reach-me-down - second hand clothing

(j) rest house - shelter for travelers especially when there are no hotels available .

(k) simoon - a hot dry dust-laden wind blowing in the desert , especially in Arabia .

(l) simon pure - untainted purity or integrity . Absolute pure , genuine or authentic . Also used negatively as pretentiously or hypocritically pure .

(m) simony - the buying or selling of ecclesiastical privileges . Such as something spiritual . Taken from Simon Magus
(Act 8:18) who endeavored to buy from the Apostles the power of conferring the gifts of the Holy Spirit .



VII .
Come Nisus (a), Lord of misuse.
With your Ibizan (b) hounds
and ewer (c) .
Your ebulient (d) ectomorphic (e)
mentality .
Board a carrack (f) to Chad breastbeating (g).
Put your thoughts on skewer (h) .
While seeking an essoin (i) , flannel-mouthed (j) idyllic (k) .


(a) Nisus - Greek mythology , King of Megara , son of Pandion of Athens . When King Minos of Crete beseiged Megara , Nisus's daughter Scylla fell in love with Minos . She betrayed her city by cutting off her father's purple lock . The purple lock of hair held magical powers if preserved . Nisus was killed and became a sea eagle . Scylla later drowned , said by the hands of Minos and was changed into a sea bird pursued by the sea eagle .

(b) Ibizan hound - named for an island off the coast of Spain . Ancient breed of hounds once kept by the Pharoahs around 3400 B.C.

(c) ewer - a large jug or pitcher with a wide mouth used for carrying water for someone to wash in .

(d) ebulient - cheerful and full of energy . Archaic - of liquid or matter boiling or agitated as if boiling . From Latin ebullire - to bubble out which is the stem of the word Bullire which is the ancestor of the word boil .

(e) ectomorphic - body having a build with little fat or muscle and long limbs .

(f) - Chad - a landlocked country in north central Africa . One of the poorest and most corrupt nations in the world .

(g) breastbeating - a loud emotional expression of remorse , grief , anger , or self recrimination .

(h) Skewer - stick or metal pin used to hold meat .

(i) essoin - old English . An excuse for nonappearance in court .

(j) flannel-mouthed - smooth and persuasive in speech in order to deceive or manipulate .

(k) idyllic - extremely happy , peaceful , or picturesque .



VIII .
Through the eyes of yashmak (a) ,
below the eyes of  yarmulke (b) .
Whey-faced (c) tunneled half-caste (d)  in a white haik (e) .
Genuflection (f) to Baal (g) , Jehovah (h) .
A docudrama (i) , carbunckled (j) .
As the cross hair sweeps
across professed
liturgist (k) .


(a) yashmak - veil concealing all of the face except the eyes . Worn by some Muslim women in public .

(b) yarmulke - a skull cap worn by orthodox Jewish men or during prayer by other Jewish men .

(c) whey-faced - pale , especially as a result of ill health , shock , or fear .

(d) half-caste - a person whose parents are of different races in particular a European father and an Indian mother .

(e) Haik - a large outer garment or wrap typically white and worn by people from North Africa's Maghreb region .


(f) genuflection - lowering of one's body briefly by bending one knee to the ground . Typically in worship or as as sign of respect .

(g) Baal - was a title honorific meaning "owner" , "Lord" in the Northwest Semitic languages spoken in the Levant during antiquity . From its use among people it became to be applied to Gods of fertility , weather , rain , wind , lightning , seasons , war , and patron of sailors .

(h) Jehovah - a form of the Hebrew name  of God . Means  "I am that I am" or "I am the one who is".

(i) docudrama - a dramatized TV movie based on real life events .

(j) carbunckled - to make painful , sore , or irritated .

(k) liturgist - one who practices liturgy . A form to which public religious worship is conducted . In ancient Greece a public office or duty performed voluntaryly by a rich Athenian .
Evan Stephens Jul 2021
little birds swerve
into green chandeliers
in the park hexagram
with a seethe and a sigh -

hungry angels fill the air,
the sun gripes with marthambles,
melancholy fills a larynx
& light-shells spree across the walk.

I spent six hours at the bar,
wet talk and high song,
but the bier-bed at night's end
beckoned with red vacancy.

The aloe flowers are dying, drying
to flat little coral-colored bell-shapes;
hungry angels and little birds
peck at the windows just before noon.
Lendon Partain Jan 2020
I’m opening my chest
Handing out ribs for everyone
Each person a shard of time
Each glass splinter from the cage that locketed my heart

Can you imagine the carnival **** for my death

Crystalline creation cremated for wax
Candles made from me bleed
Ossified dribbles of molten mass
Dehydrate, to dust and snort my being

I can take a nail to each joint
Contort ligaments
Hexagram my body parts to a plywood headstone
Force a blood curse on this carcass
**** my mouth with your tears
Take photos of my death
Spread it all over the time segments
Shove it in every iris space
Trapped in the black hole for eternity
A moment it’s happened
The light can’t be taken back
It can bend and refract but is forced to bounce around forever.

Photons of evil.
A martyr of existance.
Stephen Leacock Aug 2023
Keys once lost in disarray,
In the chaos, they went astray.
But patience and a careful eye,
Revealed where those keys did lie.

With a cell phone call, the car appears,
The journey ahead, free from fears.
Lost and found, a tale so sweet,
The oil scent that smells sweet,
Yellow chips of dreams,
The paper note that is green, they brightly gleam,
The 55 Hexagram of the stream of the divine theme
In the cosmic casino, where realities streams,
Energy we won, like a flowing sunbeams,
Nothing to stop us, in this timeless scheme.

Saturn's color of black chips, of the divine intention, in the starry expanse,themes
Quantum physics collapse, in a cosmic dance,
The wave function, from the divine's advance,
In this abstract reality that is squared, where we take our chance.

In the canvas of existence, where numbers play,
0, the restart, where destinies may sway,
Three, the triad, guides night into day,
Fifteen, cosmic echoes in the Milky Way.

At 26, the red bird takes its flight,
A sign in the heavens, a beacon of light,
At 32, we sense synchronicity's might,
And 35, whispers secrets in the night.

Then a Spanish girl steps in, with a cheerful "Hi,"
After using the ******, she catches our eye,
She activates the game play, without a sigh,
In this abstract realm, where moments amplify.

Placing a bet, with intuition as our guide,
At the right time, where universes collide,
More than a thousand dreams, side by side,
In this unique tale, where life's mysteries abide.

The guy with the long hair cashing out the hundreds of thousands with grace,
From the girl in green, joy upon on his face,
Excitement from the divine, in this sacred space,
As destiny weaves its intricate embrace with the power from grace and the red bird with a gaze.
Bruce Levine May 2019
Letting go
Yet holding fast
Dreams a reality
Covered with dust
Yesterday’s tomorrows
A golden calf
Longing for diversion
In an empty paragraph

Farther down the road
The hyperbole of fate
Nothing to lose
In the chances we take

Holding on to daydreams
In the nexus of time
Fondling eternity
With an extension wand

Tired of chasing rainbows
Through the looking glass within
A hexagram remembered
A character remembered
With a double chin
All the cards on the table
Arranged in careful rows
Extending and expanding
Like a fine suit of clothes

After all the sorrows
The joy
A new refrain
A single written moment
Unheard
Unlocked
Unheralded
To gather new momentum
In the harbinger of fame

Long live the peaceful moment
Beware they last like dew
Forever ever after
Remains an endless hue
Of colors pink and gray now
A travesty of fate
Impaled on good intentions
That rattle from behind

And longing for hereafter
In a bottle filled with gin
Extolls a simple meaning
Of time held in proximity
To the hologram of light
That refreshes the soul forever
Giving grace to single entries
In the sketch-book of hope

Farwell to empty shadows
As time alone stands still
Farwell to chasing rainbows
The piper pays the bill

Glory and redemption
Appear
Go hand in hand
Time to move on forward
Time to understand

2/14/19
Because as a satanist she sacrifices animals, corrupts babies, perfects homosex, eats excreta & wallows in depravity under cover of a hexagram's hex.
the original intent was to stress... V: uvula... V: *****... ah! me drinking! me being the one to delve into mind bending tactics while others mind-bind: the binding of dialectical materialism... so soberness and... gaming... today i saw this... a madman, rich: only the rich have the luxuries of madness and fame... the poor simple break the ordeals of order of stating law under the luxury of God: in turn... i saw the children make it hard to understand: i focused in on one auxilliary... when you're ready: i'm ready to pounce! this person is clearly vulnerable... mileage later the stink was obvious... and he smoke like a dragon... Attari bandaid... dimmed Khaki top... sandals and crockodiles... expose toenails... in defence of this madman... Open Air Psychomania of the Asylum... gamers having *** with half-hood-heads of the 1960s post Holocaust expansion projects in North America...the Beatniks are all trans-gender to me: mon...          my mon.... or my man.... England has become an open air Pstychiatric Ward... it's the very first Open Air Asylum! it's amazing! i'm loving it! we can have open wards and open wounds and i'm no poet: i as first concern for veterinary science: i think i always wanted to become a psychiatrist... oh jeez: i think i am a psychiatrist... certainly not a pop pop, pop psychologist... or a dandy philosopher... i think psychiatry is a meeting of geology with philosophy... national portrait gallery: read a review... i will be seeing that Francis Bacon exhibition: simply for Lara vouches that the painting of Pope Innocent IX is there... something amiss... but 19th January is burning day of a month, no?

the poet is not a stand-up comedian:
i come from a culture of cabaret
and not stand-up monologues
who dropped their ***** i say: who dropped
their meat and two veg
i ask... who had the audacity to attack
the Harlequin... the other joker
the joker that only only women undertstand...
i just spent about ten minutes
on the throne of thrones
while playing Mech Arena and getting
into the group chat...
apparently: in gamer speak
i'm a WHALE...
          a ******* whale... not a shark...
a WHALE... poised to be taken advantage
of having my picture taken...
because i was the rebel anti-wasp
and i struck at the epicentre...
oh he might have all the spires and churches
and the bells and like trying to
confiscate Adam:
the uvula... the not *****:
the protruding Adam's apple:
i hate being subordinate to the Hebrews:
while all the while they spent
almost 2000 years in Poland it would seem...
but not really...
and then the **** came and expelled
them and told them: raise me Israel!
so that i can see that Zion!
i want to see Zion! from the ashes...
maybe Israel needs to disappear like it disappeared
when the Hebrews were asked
to head north: among the pagans:
but there's an impasse...
Islam is a monotheism akin to Yahweh's ways:
Je-Howah... he who hides them: the feminine...
plural... he who hides them:
he the baron: rock and rock rock 'n' roll...
gary glitters in the profanity of all that ***
and daughters and mothers....
who is my mother? my lover too?
why is my mumma crying?
i went to the store to pick up her orders...
turns out 2 x 2 = 7 x 7...
          not final soliution: this time...
just a chequers plays chess of **** symbolism
and hebrew symbolism...
so if clockwise: 3 ticks head forward in time?
and if counter-clockwise: just 1 tick back in time?
i was a wasp in a gaming community
chat room: Lothar... Mech Arena...
i was thinking first come first sparrow served:
first thought in my mind:
chess is such a vapid game...
i gave my books then went to school
in the glorious school of machinery: the machine...
i have no objevtive truths:
not that they are helpful to begin with:
just... subjective... experiences...
came across this acronym but i don't remember
it, it's long though and begin with R
ROLOMFO... if my memory serves me best...

reminiscent of the days of Comodore64
Atari... Nintendo: Mario Bros...
lunatic plumbers and via the dragon in the picture
why a dragon why not an overlarged
spider: saw a frog riding a serpent the other day:
toad more menace than a spider...
think about the terror and the whale
and whale being a mammal
while all other fish and squid and monsters:
think of the empathy relating to animals
and not other people...
you can't be empathetic to people:
only to animals...
but you can...
be sympathetic to people:
as a member of the species: class...
you can only be sympathetic to people:
your own species...
make empathy a reserve to understanding
other creatures who define possessing consciounsess
differently: so well ordered: without the word of God...
and with the world of God:
so did Stan the Satan lies to us:
fruit? good and evil: they're words: aren't they...
there is no good or evil
on the canvas of sparrows borrowing
worms and the Francis Bacon:
the canvas of: there be parasites... so?
didn't we get the other canvas to work away from nature:
via word...
well terrible **** does happen in the natural world:
i thought you left?
you didn't leave: maybe that's why Matthew the Satan
is still here: and some other Satan will come along
and ask the cherubs:
so they, they... they think they're still here?
jeez... i've been trying to get them to leave
and stop worrying: i told them
the natural world is not their domain of exploration:
they need to explore the personal,
the psychological:
they need to give the soul a name...
unlike calling a crow a crow...
they need to name their soul: they need to give a name:
abstracting a chair via the word chair...
before the chair there was some variation
of geonometry combined
and leverage... some intuition...
which was before intuition became a forgetfulness
and a memory chasm:
when intuition became knowledge...
a thirst... an eating of the fruit:
of being part of the *****: of order of nature:
when man fell...
the fall of man is here...
lack of intuition created fear and knowledge...
the animalistic endeavor into digesting
anger is the last resolve that Buddhism will not leech off of me...
but i need to revamp Christianity:
and i am angry: fuel my *****...
not soberness and gaming... and spending time:
arguing with a Whale
in the craustacian bucket...
*****... please...

i said: chess is vapid... but this is chess...
MeCH Arena is 3D chess...
not like war robots: which became final fantasy 7...
esque...
but i left the console cinema a long time ago
when Nitendo Mario Bros. 2D became Playstation Tenchu 3D...
Alex still wonders how i managed
to get so far in FFXIII...
not even cheat codes:
an empirical impasse:
the Japanese are confused:
there was this one European that didn't
understand Final Fantasy 8...

but i only said: well.. gentlemen... as long as everyone
is having a grand ol' time...
as long as you didn't spend that money on
Only Fans...
i don't mind you going to a brothel... physically:
and all that... otherwise:
i see i am both man and the anti-zodiac
anti-magic: anti-woman:
"they": THEY said i'm a whale:
put that in your hexagram-pentragram...


          oh sure, yes...
                          alright, there... Sheriff...
talking to my woman?
did i call him Sheriff or Sherlock...
oh... now i remember... hey... ch'ief... you looking for
something?
******* gamers like Swifties... hone brigade
so offensive to say: you guys... pay for this ****?
fair enough fair enough:
Lothar has spoken...
as long as you're not giving it to sycophants and succubuses...
just not a stand-up show:
more clarinet and cabaret:
something french and less *******
my pants about to die monologue testing...
Logan i'm ******: so... we missed the mouth...
the mouth-project?!

i hear school girls cuss and swear
while wearing provocative tools of skirt
and socks and naked flesh
then i think of Reyla and her apathy
and i drown in my own inability
to withstand the pressure with her...
i want to die with her...
and maybe someone else...
and it breaks my heart that no brother
no father
and i can be a male and with that lineage
of Plato i can make a playground
of my own: but poor girl her...
from where to where:
quo vadis: what inspiration?
these 2nd generation nagging housewives?
i was bringing... 6 of the same...
******* winter jackets! i felt like an idiot!
but then i didn't... because
the grace of god descendent and the stoic.
An answer to ha-shem:
Yahweh...
   I am ha-yakim...
Jak i Kim...
        If I don't disappear
into India and among
the Ummah in the next year
**** me forever!
Ha'Akim said.
Y (serpent)

Δ (man)

∇(Gods)

now slide the hexagram
across the allingment
to the clock
with the *******
turn the Star of David
to the side...
with the *******...

A carpet with an open
book... "geometry".

and by... Ha-Yakim (Ha'akim)
I say:
The or... He who knows
Yah-ah-Kim...
         He who knows....
Himself as who knows who
Knows and himself: doesn't
Know...

       Ja: Kim?!
I: who are you? Ha:
not so much a definite article
borrowed from Hebrew:
but I do laugh a lot.

Kto ty?! Who are you?
Ja... jam jest ja...
No to kwitkiem: ten kto.
Quo owo ash vadis.
Quis es?    Owo... ovo:
one you two uu voltzwagen
diabolical polo.

A generation of souls
rescued from
the liturgy of the celebrated
Mongol Khan...
Of those known by a different
surf of history:
the Khim.

— The End —