Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
ConnectHook Dec 2017
Children drugged with truthless tales . . .
Unwise men embrace their treasure;
Algorithms urge the sales
In malls devoid of merry measure.

Plastic sparkles in the air;
Automotive ads turn festive . . .
Forced good nature everywhere
Makes the shopping crowds grow restive.

Corporate greed spins altruistic
Hyping goods, suppressing Christ.
Our Yuletide is their big statistic
Oversold and underpriced.

Secular beribboned fluff:
Peace, Goodwill . . .  but don't say God !
And heaven knows you've had enough;
Just download the app—acquire the mod.

Coca-Colaed, Disneyfied
You're wrapping paper for their fire;
Eggnogged, Santa-ed, thrown aside
While Babel's flames roar ever higher.

The godlessness shines right on through
Where Christmas lyrics die, unheard.
The Yule-log and the sparks that flew
Expire in embers long unstirred.

The old usurper carting toys
And Chinese knock-offs in his sled
Sets off a lot of empty noise:
Insanity in green and red.

The lurker leers and hauls his bag
(jolly antichrist distraction)
While flying Bishop Nicholas' flag:
A winter psy-ops covert action.

Only message left: go drink!
And may your cup o'erflow with cheer
Before you risk to start to think
Yourself and God right out of here.

Hallmark haloes, bygone kitsch
enwreaths the memory of the years,
Kindling maudlin sadness which
wells up in melancholy tears

For Christian culture (rest in peace)
Long-corrupted by dollar signs;
For fa la la and fattened geese
And holly midst the ivy vines;

For Dickens' gospel of the season
Anglican angelic ghosts
Pushing us beyond unreason
Toward the future's spectral hosts;

For folklore now reduced to ash
Commercial blow-outs, ***** snow;
For Saturnalian urge to smash
the store-front windows where they show;

For useless manger figurines
Passed down from some more faithful time;
For hallowed and nostalgic scenes
No longer worth a Roman dime.
I still love Christmas but its ongoing commercial secularization by corporate globalists makes me retch (into my mulled wine).

Nonetheless, like Scrooge, I intend to keep Christmas well.
By the way, that's Merry CHRISTmas.
(No Christ, NO CHRISTMAS)

https://connecthook.wordpress.com/2017/12/19/christ-massed/
Julius Nov 2013
oh **** just realised bare movements 2wards success dnt think
THIS TIME, but not just say 'dont know' rather than just saying
It lasted 24 hours, at least i do?
Epic album in my living room lol
them waterproof socks were gonna die of cancer we'd be nice D!
NEVER STOP MAKING me
yes well it
insert ambiguos, nondescript but first
spanish exam conditions, conditions which wall were gonna BUY them off
and i die, I wanna hear about 2500 bones id need a birthday with a large group of 17/18 year olds
89.01 for da nine
he gets the light ray effect for
is it is and no KURUMA!
Ok so we progress through the clean flow of 'having a reminder, dont
Because Чou Are A list of MY favoutite photos i have 'got the 40's music
AM I end of school?
*** americans are so
i watched super sweet 16 and now
3 Ivo my ROOOME! MY SWEET ROME!
mi amigos son
when i die, I was hench
I'm not too but you
I watched Super Sweet ROME!
This is whats happening to BE working
luv your fellow man, NO matter what happens. i would rather die than take notes...
people are bad when we've all done
yeah dont watch after all, he doesn't have one* Sorry im tipsy
ahh he's completely changed it...
yeah dont watch it
in fact, not a bad subject its interesting but still proves my point not yours so
in fact, not should you, would actually rather spend time with both arms swinging, well, I'll tell me
guess everyones at the caravan
think my wisdom teeth are coming soon
89.01 for 1 bike and 1 bike and abused for
i'm ******* SERIOUS?
must do coursework, must listen
ok about the street, almost over At the levels cuz
2 many ppl online anyway
come to a party or social gathering where for
should be pretty good
it is there womans face and a lampshade behind me?
btw i did with strangers
dont take pride in an easter egg
i watched super sweet 16 and feel happy
m a party or social status. chew on the telly impress the nation, im a product of my favoutite photos EVER!
anyone whos doing ANY REVISION?
dnt chat **** y11 white rappers who aren't good.
Classic Jamie scruple Should I need to climb over a mountain of Valentines cards to get out o the house?
I'm not a 9to5 a 4 39% Allow this
year 10s are hyping over a mountain of us looking piff
*** americans are such an intelligent sounding statement here
in fact, not on the menu screen tap the triggers repeatedly then
does anyone know
so theres online write ****** responses you
Originality is really long, i will treat others
you need to be popstars we cannot change?
year 10s are always
relax and take it
round two windows
, no, the game
well it **** though, none of there full mental capacity and who's ...a danger to themselves senselessly, and i can’t improve, school
Your dress is very consistent with enduring 2 Chainz + Iggy Azalea but **** it
**** education, i don’t wanna be perfect, then
2 many ppl online even tho the Day!
gal dem would be honest forum
oh **** just realised bare movements 2wards success dnt forget to please therefore stop being friends with that
i watched super sweet 16 years, the coursework deadline is tomorow!
this is sarcasm lol
at the diner, clothes aint designer vision, i will continue thank you
wish i had some friends with gets totally embarrassed and i hate slow internet, and his lyrics have Maths is at the open evening.
no, it WAS SUPPOSED TO BE a few words, why
legally made to be easy to get. I invite you
insert ambiguos, nondescript but theyve sorted it
Who said anything NO ****!
utorrent never STOP MAKING THEM PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

you need to be teachers but we’re treated like the school
and i hate slow internet, and i know
THIS TIME, IT'S BETTER! BECOME A fan
well it is on DETOX I WIL PUNCH THE WALL until THERES JUST A few questions, oh well
cant wait till these exams are almost over At the same time
to clarify, I was cros examining me
but i DARE you
and i will treat you

Basically the problem was caused by a bug in the background
single strand in an infinite white plane of intelligence remembering things and performing well
Justin bieber is a response
so theres online anyway
You're going to be an electric shock device to prevent stupid kids ok?
ahh he's white i can
must do coursework, must do

and i hate with love!
They pretend it's a sailing boat and sit on one
no matter what I propose when we've all done
this is Grace representing here?
THIS TIME, IT'S just a standard morning
spooning, tribal *******, free
no matter how hard i tried to talk to you
jules you're somehow still managing to frape me, but sooner or later they betray me.
facebook chat is ******
im a white guy
i watched super sweet 16 and now
you need to use poetic language
also how is there womans face and a part of myself
Had to climb over 1 Favourite song
and i hate facing reality. they ARE Reading This
just gotta finish this
But Post i'd like to see!

to clarify, I was screaming 'wheres my wisdom teeth are notifications???
That's how to be very somberly FOUR HOURS ago
Had to bend edges to find a standard morning
utorrent never works no morre

anyone whos doing ANY REVISION?
*** americans are trying to raise AWARENESS about the son
if one conducts themselves senselessly, and respond to sound like rhymes...
everyone say thanks to Grace Julia Clarke and Black ops AND Tomorrow Will Be A regular guy, i wanna have a huge **** already!
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2020
i can't imagine a better maxim for a marriage:

   when both of you are young...
and... instead of being
these "star-crossed lovers" -

with a rubric
                  of the thwart(ing)...

to marry: when both are still in love with life...

                    from a nation-state into
the ***** of a diaspora...

what a fine word...
   the mass-influx of hyping around
the otherwise, fake:

       migrant workers...
like the current argument for
british sovereignty:
we will not have any of the bureaucracy
from Brussels...
but, we, will! have...
those romanian fruit & veg pickers!

it's hardly a joke:
more like a choke...
                    what's the difference between...
leaving one part of the country
for another: part of the same country...
and then... being daring enough...
to leave the country: thoroughly...
and have to learn a new language?

dual-citizenship...
go back? stay here?
hmm... i'm not really fond of speaking
or writing in ******...
the germans dissolved...
the russians too: dissolved...
i'm pretty sure that language can
remain intact... as it is...
under the law & justice party...
once they focus on the breeders
with tax-free incentives...

Chicago! what a fine diaspora hub
for the ****** "expatriates"...
good thing i never made it to
h'america: in stripes...

the friends of my youth...
most of then? crimminals...
        the nicknames we had for each
other:
i remember being taunted as being
an... "angol"... because my father wasn't
their father and wasn't part
of laying down the foundations
of "bones" for the dockland light railway...

i left a nation: still in its infancy...
and to its infancy i will drink!
but as a language: not a people...
not a geographic location...
a metaphysical manifestation:
if the word be a faustian signature...
yes, my lord... i see the pinching
itch of the natives squandering it...
like it should not have been...
a frederick hohenstaufen II experiment
in a nunnery on Sicily...
mute children... raised by nuns who didn't
speak: pretending...
to see... what language was genesis primo!

my allegiance is to the tongue...
it might allude to the fife and drums...
but dealing with the rascal
who deems...
that god save the queen be treated
with irreverence...
i'm not as daft and yobbish to glare
with a hydra giving birth to an extension
of its neck-load girth...

give me! the british grenadiers' fife & drum...
and i'll show you le marseillaise!
i have long ago pledge my allegience
to the tongue...
              
because? well... to be honest...
under all the supression from the...
(a) herr meisterstuck:
         the day:
        
        the prussians... "forgot"...
they were jumbled up with the lithuanians
as the last pagans of europe...
and then they decided: whatever it
was that they decided upon...

i hear some russian... i hear a down syndrome
person talk...
it's all lovely and sing-along...
but it's hardly by strict obligation
to the latin script... is it?
i have to nibble at pitty-worth jokes
to aid my...

diaspora: involuntary mass dispersion
of a population from its indigenous territories...
last time i checked...
i was born into a city famously known
for its practice in metallurgy...
i was the never-to-be grandson
of Die Krupp ambitions!
    i would leave my hometown and...
well... there was Warsaw...
or the... brain-drain train "elsewhere"...
from a nation into the grand...
vacuum of the diaspora...

except in england...
       the no. 303... most of which settled
in either Scotland or... Stratford-upon-Avon...
elsewhere... some other... "elsewhere"...

well...
   given that i have had had a choice...
ha ha! comma? sir?! that that?
      given that i have had - had a choice...
well... imagine... perhaps there's something
about Fwench... but i'm chosing sides...
it's not in Norwegian...
so... b'leh b'leh b'leh... b'leh...
                      
               i just have to borrow some german...
speaking this... hybrid saxon having
buggered enough afghanistan-esque brit druids...
the zeppelins were always dropping...
soap-bubbles...
          i tease oh god...
i tease... but this music is so... so...
oh so delight-ful!

                   die könig im gelb!

ah... to marry: when both are in love with life!
terrible affair: should... "life" somehow
matter: to disappear...
this love a suffocation for the best ****
they had in... ever...
and there's nothing of what life is concerned
with...
either children or... being infertile...
but to be in love with life...

the russians can't proclaim a diaspora...
then again: the "mafia"...
i've heard of an italian mob-esque...
      disposition... subsequent undercurrents
to boot...
an... irish mafia?
bothersome details...
         i still pledge my alliance to a Dickens
over a a Shakespeare...
because...
by chance... i might find some poetry
in the prosaic? by Shakespeare alone:
i'm... "expected".... aren't i?

bad news from York-and-the-shire...
Rotherham... and the... prefix ****-
   and the suffix -stani "debate"...
                   do you even know
how... let's not go there...
to term a bogus inconvenience of...

'what the hell is concerning you...
to fathom from cloud-9 a ****** notion of...
being out-bred?!'

an economic war... is a slow war...
it takes time...
it would take the amount of time...
to turn a once proud town focused on
metallurgy into rubble...
some stayed... some moved to warsaw...
some... played: a joker hand de facto...

i am: this... subtle... p.s. curiosity...
had i only come to breed...
rather than to otherwise...
nuance... allegiance...
zu die zunge?! alles!
             die menschen?
                     jeder seine haben!
             die schwach wind und der flagge?!
ist: die schwach wind: und der flagge: nein?

perhaps there's a stressor
of impetus in german that's not allowed
in english...

     ich bin hier für die sprache...
              
it must be translated... such it being:
oh such a wonderful... phrase...

   to marry... when both... are in love... with life...

zu heiraten... wenn beide...
                           sind im liebe... mit leben!

art-*******-and-funky-funky...
parsley-sage-rosemary-thym­e...
        what? thyme? there's a phi or a theta
to posit... instead...
you took the Dubliners' route of: paddy...
tad... and toink!
                'ucking scoundrels!

i will call... the greek-chinese ideogram...
I(ota) the key... and... "thereabouts"...
a keyhole of O(micron)...
it's an id: representation...

                 squashed: yes: 0... for better...
"graphics"...
    
to be young... and to share a half of both:
of being in love with life...

       Φ = the key enters the keyhole (I, O)...
    Θ = the key is turned... (Io)...
         Ψ = the door is opened...

        enough... Beijing "abstract" concerns...
for anyone?
       what's the abstract of rotation?
                                   oh... i guess: 'micron!

so much for abstracts as: only from boing-boing-xin...
some letter can qualify to be
apprehended in ideograms...
B - bossom or a fudge-yeast-byproduct
of a full ***...
              etc. or... Φ, Θ, Ψ...
       now by adding the brackets...
and time has a geography...
from the height of mythology...
to the depths of journalism...
that's... a vector:  (Φ, Θ, Ψ)...

     it's a key... a door... a keyhole...
                            an opening... n'est ce pas?!
hey! let's complicate it further
with: mr. squint... chop-sticks...
dragons... live vermin sushi...
    and counting dry grains of rice...

i'm not: Česlav Miloš...
to begin with... Czesław Miłosz was...
a Lithuanian...
because Copernicus wasn't ******...
"because and because"...
                     sides... all this talk of:
"allegiance"...
**** it... it's a cosmopolitan allegiance
to... the commonality of tongue...
shared to the point...
when... old fictions wrestle with me
and i'm confined to my own cubic...

for english is a language i can
entertain...
allow... yes... this parasite can erode
its host's cranium und...
                                  grauangelegenheit...
it was never... so imposing...
as a german tongue or a russian tongue...
therefore and thereby?
      an easily qualified tongue-donor
with the expanse of thought:
a complete and utter brain-drain on...

now...
there's a difference...
the english will not know it...

there's the nation... and there's the diaspora...
can the english... claim h'america...
or canada... or... australia...
as a nation-extension toward the confines
of a diaspora?
no... i don't think so...

that: quintessential inconvenience of
being merely: english...
   more prone to a local geography...
a devonshire... a derbyshire...
               someone of york...
  lost in new york...
                    a people with...
an imploded seance of diaspora...
    from the humble little island...
to: whatever fraction that was supposed
to make one impose on...

had i just been Irish... and "somehow"
forgotten my Gaelic...
or been that Welshman and no longer
with any Cymru...
well then...
but i come willing because...
      beside the mother and father...
the maternal grandmother and -father...
who will i speak my "native" and "mother"
tunge / zunge to?
          
i rather imagine marriage:
as when both of them are in love with life...
and in love that being said:
a little tale o' whittle england:
make it big in h'america...
        
         this... the most complete...
antithesis of a diaspora...
                    or rather: what lingua franca
was... and what l'inglese is...
and how: even if arabic tried...
and even if: mandarin would hope for...
well... hardly...
jackie chan kung fu and muhammad:
english is more popular than islam...
**** it up: camel jockey!
oh sure... they're "muslim"...
conflicting opinions... once:
speaking in english "arrives"...

                   i'm here: to turn up the volume...
because... i might as well have been
born in estonia... and speaking... estonian...
and never having left estonia...
been very much happy for the euro
and the... thumbling russians... somehow...
"retreating"...
well... if the russians are retreating...
they're: trying to revise being
an indo-european mongrel with...
accents of scandinavia concerning
the founding fathers of Kiev...
and them being russians:
what the hell do we do with the ukranians...
and the mongols that settled and became
tartars?!

yeah... the russians are on the retreat...
    this little island that... hopes for a diaspora...
instead... shuckles...
it has to settle for a h'american empire...
an australia... a new zealand...
ogh! mein! gott! no expatriate diaspora!
no tea with mussolini typo excursions!
mein gott! v'er vill youz goez?!

         zee f'ikkin moonz?! on a sputnik flarez?!
light up baboon *** numero uno:
then whisper among the fwench...

yes... very much brilliant...
         to be alive... and to marry so young...
and be helped: so young...
and not be thwarted...
   'coz crazy bunnies had the best ***...
great: to be alive, so young,
and married: and married to each other
and at the same time: having life marry you
to love it: to be together and married
to a love for life:
and... just... somehow...
having a co-dependent... of reciprocated
self-interests...

                            even in poland...
a soviety satellite...
with concrete chicken-shacks... ah yes:
that... "once upon a time"...
better the ******* state as my landlord
than some grubby liquorice ****** 3rd party:
libertarian "full dislocusre of mammon's
expression of par-tay"... sort of *******!
give me the state, the grey-suit and the gimps!

or? shackle me up for a stipend
working the sloughterhouse...
to boot... a house filled with 20 dobermans...
and 5 rottweilers...
i'll slaughter your cows... for the steak chops...
as long as i have the dogs to cuddle
and imagine myself doing the greater:
cosmic-karma-good...
the dogs... the harem of dogs...
no... women need excuses...
the dogs!

                 hell... a woman would require...
anniverseries... flowers... pinnace for a tsunami...
crumbs... what's a loaf of bread?
details... something to be minded as:
once being a plughole...
blah blah... hands for cushions...
        
              plus... women can't drink...
let her everything else: apart from the whiskey...
if she really wants to drink...
tell her to sober up on some Stendhal or
some Balzac... but don't let a woman
try to outcompete a man drinking...
she can drink...
but not... in that most... ugly: crab-feast
of... "detail"...

the english man... england...
h'america, australia... new zealand...
oh... wait... you were hoping for a diaspora...
weren't you?
yeah... clearly i didn't find an affair of
the imitation of greece...
took charge of the latin script...
inverted the mediterranean sea...

i speak your language: doesn't imply
i've shed the "ethno-nationalist" tattoos of "d.n.a."...
for a people to have made it bitter...
with the teutonic order over access to the baltic sea...
what's the baltic sea?
it's like the black sea...
the baltic sea is about as useful as...
well... the danes and the norwegians
held the toll and price of passing...
just like the turks or the byzantines held
the key of the bosphorus...
the baltic... is a "sea"...
just like the black sea is a "sea"...

did you know... there's a caspian sea?
yeah... it's a "sea"... more like... a lake would
be so much better...

the english could be akin to the arabs
from 200 years ago...
instead: sitting on a tonne of salt...
and waves...
and open horizons...
while the arabs sat on camel ****...
sand... and dinosaur juice...
and materialistic leprosy and limp-****
viagara palm tree impromptu...

sure... the lottery ticket of the past,
oh the most glorious past times...
        nothing lasts forever...
       so it seems...
            here's me celebrating Dickens
to the last... breath... because...
keeping up with speaking my native
language: when there are no
prussians, no russians...
           no austro-hungarians...
and there are only...
ukranians and lithuanians readying
to guilt-trip me over the failures
of the polish-lithuanian commonwealth?!

in this language i can...
ale... nie... w... tym!
Tell the moon not to complain,
go to the sun and leave a note,
We are not a broken piece of poetry
campaigning for love and affections,
we are crystals, lest you forget!
clear rays penetrating into hearts and souls of humans that seek to make themselves gods into godhood.
we are not grasshoppers to be chopped by a lazy legs printing a falseful legacy.
We are the elephants of the forest of wealth.
Never slaughter the thought of our lives
We are the breath of humans & fire searching for what brewed within men.
We are poems inked with tears and sweat
But those tears are of our bravery, &sweat, a joyful noise made by the skin for celebration of our kind.
We ****** hope in the palms of children,
yet filled with love and its synonyms.
Our lives are the poets who rhymed & colour the sweet lyric they were made to be.
We are the boy children, the hope; least you forget.
The moon of tomorrow,
The sun on faces of a beaming girl
The stars carved on the smile of the sky,
We are boys whose shadows recreate
We are boys whose palms are route of greatness & roadtrip of principles.
praise singers in the slippery wet floor,
nightingales singing lullabies,
bread feeding all mouth to satisfaction
When heronic names are carved look and see ours rightly placed.
we are braver than earth
we can pull it up and down like a tree.


we are the reptiles that wriggle down the hill of success and roar like a beast in a beautiful pail palm of dreams.  
our fathers' tattered sins could not hold us down,
our mother's splitted fire guides our course of life!
We are the boys of tomorrow , the warriors of words hyping the hashtag of praises.
who has seen us has seen light,
He who behold us has nothing to fear.
We are mountains in praise of hope
we are oceans of mysteries and hidden treasures.
Have our words and actions in your words for we are time bomb against failure.
BOYCHILD, the sun that glows on every face that needs help.



©John Chizoba Vincent
From_ APenRefusing_Frustration.
Bill Oct 2011
The world is going into a slow regression ******* TV shows about spoiled rich ****** who are as about as interesting as  a city dump.
Movies reflect just how the intelectual bus has become way to packed and short.

Adam ******* yeah there's a true comic a idiot that makes weird voices and ****** movies good wholsome
family fun well you can put the family in a car and point them to the nearest cliff in my book.
We live in a dark age yet we design bubble gum images to destroy are senses.

Hey Gill how's Tommy?
Well after getting his legs blown of he's been stuck in front of the TV  for about a month and ses
why couldnt it have been my eyes instead.

Yeah i may seem harsh to  you just cause i dont like bubble gum ******* but ask yourself this.
Why is it more people will feed a hungry dog than a ******* starving person?
Why do people belive kids are so ******* advanced when in reallity there just more sexually active than smart

I got friend's that got kids the misreble little ****"s I asked one of the turds in highschool
so what do you think about this war?
He looked at me with a brainless expression and replied what war?

Yeah real deep thinker there yet if i asked him a what's good **** site the **** would
have  opened up like a dam directory.
Yeah were moving forward and slipping into a ******* coma as we speak the last great minds worry more over a ******* new phone than any answer to real problems

Hell it's like a bomb was dropped and all that was left was a a few roaches and some ***** mice.
Who's thirst for talentless ***** cannot be met by the television screen its herion for the thoughtless mind.
Night of the living ***** and the last few true voices are stuck in ****** farm house at each others throats

They flip on the television for new's.
Instead of information they get some stupid reallity show star hyping there next season
Yeah I gotta pitch for the Jersey Shore how bout next season in space !

And while your there send up old Adam cause the aleins will love to see a
fool make **** films that have as much depth as a kids sandbox.
the shame of this is i come off as the bad guy cause in this life you can pick on Jesus
but when you attack a millionare *******.

Well then your just being mean.
Anonymous Nov 2012
This hyper energy courses though me at the look I see in your eyes.

Your mouth, perfect and pink
Ripe for the taking,
My lips demand your attention

Words flow freely from my body to yours
Those instinctive gestures hyping us up more
Together now we find our release
Together we conquer our worlds.

I can think of nothing better than your skin on mine.
The trail of warmth left by your attention
Close my eyes to sharpen my senses
You have me arrested
Taken in by your love and affection.

I am yours, will it so
Be it true, let me know
I'll find you,
When you're lost and unprepared
I'll be there.
Venus Rose Vibes Apr 2013
A hard hit
Dank ****
Flickering emotion
As a cigarette
Any other *****, any other *****
All the same
Own it.
Mucus infused spit
Struggled release of welcomed grip
**** THIS ****
**** EVERYBODY, **** EVERY BODY.
All the lies you ever told me
Every dream you ever sold me
You own me
The Devil in you stole my soul from me.
I am surrounded by lonely
Has my heart disowned me?
Or am I as phony as cheap bologna?
Hyping myself up for what is already unfolding
Disgracing my face
For meaningless embrace
Reaching out for my one and only.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2021
i've cooked plenty of curries in my life
(in the back of my mind there's this mainstream
narrative that comes to the fore
with buzz-words like: "cultural appropriation"...
so i can't cook a curry for myself
i need someone native of the "concept" of curry
to cook it for me? the use of cumin, coriander seeds...
star anise... cardamom pods is off-limits
for me? like donning a sombrero?
i hate acronyms but, in this instance i'll just
keep it short and shrimp-y i.e. w.t.f.?!)
but what i recently conjured up has become
a... revelation...
i know that the taste profile of some Asiatic
people: the Chinese love their dichotomy of
sweet & sour... as well as sweet & salty...
come to think of it: i like those profiles too:
salted caramel is the next big taboo topic?!
the first proper revelation came to me via...
refika's lavash & hammered beef recipe...
she's on youtube: it's so **** when a woman
as voluptuous as her knows how to cook...
plus the ol' raven hair: beyond that...
it's not that she knows how to cook:
i can trust her to cook...
    not that i was willing to make lavash from
raw goods... i can buy that...
the genius is instilled in the marinate...
what was it...
oh hell... my beard is itchy... i guess at the mere
thought of eating this dish...
sea salt, pepper, lots of peppercorns...
fresh garlic, fresh rosemary (thankfully i have
a garden and i have rosemary in it)
dried chillies (whole or flakes)
olive oil, white wine vinegar...
into the pestle & mortar...
the beef thinly sliced then marinating for
15 minutes at best: the vinegar tenderising
the meat quicker...
fried for 2 minutes or whatever time it takes
until you see the meat pouring out the most
hidden blot clots...
but beef & rosemary?! huh! who would have
thought... i certainly wouldn't have...
sure... LAMB & rosemary...
but beef?
oddly enough the meat works just as well
when topped with English cheddar...
you don't need a Turkish cheese...
but that's not even the end of the story...
of the lavash wrap...
it's the side dish...
the onions! slice the onions into crescent moons...
squeeze them to get the party going...
they must be red onions... some salt...
some more white wine vinegar & let them pickle
for a while... after the "while" add some
sumac (i also add some gochugaru chilli flakes...
for colour and tingling buzz)
SUMAC... topped off with some fresh parsley...
i could be writing about my escapades
in the brothel... but this is so much better...
what's ***? meat you can't eat...
at the end... it's meat you can't eat...
tease it, nibble it: but you're not going to eat it...
i very much like the ethereal nature
of cooking: it reminds me of the time i studied
chemistry in Edinburgh and conjured up
Esters from scratch...
Esters? oh, those scented compounds used
in the perfume industry...
yet today i came across an even bigger revelation...
Indian cuisine? done... Chinese... no problem...
the number of curries i made in my life...
eh... ha...
            hell: even the Hungarian goulash
for a massive potato "pancake"... garnished
with something sour... cabbage most likely...
or at least a coleslaw to off-set the smoky-paprika
taste...
green peppers a must...
of course you need some sprinkle of paprika
on the lavash wrap-up...
for colour: to "combat" the "insanity"
of cheese... & some extra pepper....
& rosemary...

well you can't exactly call a stew a curry
a sauce or jue... it's not  juice if it's a juce...
some "chew"...
esp. not in the Persian cuisine...
pity me at me at my self-wallowing in being
cosmopolitan on the outskirts...
i'll take one step into the night
and i'll be met with the resounding
presence of foxes...
i stopped being bothered about BWV 988
being just a cliché...
which it of course is...
so many pieces of classical music were once
beautiful...
now... in the gulag of the muzak...
they have become: morphed...
hardly stand-alone pieces of music...
moonlight sonata being the "other" over-emphasis
of needing to match-up to the demands
of / for mass consumption...

i hope this doesn't read like some foodie
blog... every time i want to replicate a recipe
i have to scroll down through so many
self-congratulatory deviances
from the narrative... none of these food blogs
seem stressed about giving out
what's needed:
the list of ingredients... eh... the methodology
doesn't really bother me...
i always miss the click-of-the-button
where i can simply get to the knitty-gritty...
there's always "some story"... some care to grasp
at some "authenticity":
it's almost like rereading Wittgenstein and
his focus on tautology!

come to think of it...
i watch out for tautologies...
like i watch out for metaphors and misnomers
and the... ahem "air quotes":
you can't stretch it as far as a metaphor?
then we'll be stretching it into a misnomer
status...

FESENJAN...
it's not like the Persians were not knocking
at "our" doors since... perhaps time immemorial...
what about that off-shoot tribe of Aryans:
the Sarmatians settling in the basin
of the Vistula?
funny... the concept of the Aryans...
that the Germans espoused it...
while... historically... never mind...

it's not a curry! it's a Persian stew...
i couldn't fathom it at first...
you make a walnut paste...
you toast 'em...
salt, pepper, sugar...
some of the usual suspects appear:
like cumin...
cinnamon...
    but then you get:
pomegranate molasses...
and fresh pomegranate seeds to garnish... with...
you also use fresh parsley instead of coriander...
only one tablespoon of tomato puree...
some ground almonds...
a pepper: which, along with a can of
chickpeas somehow, "somehow" managed
to disappear in the sauce...
garlic... sure... ginger? no...
onion... yes...

         i knew that Persian cuisine tickled
the sour fancies... but i never knew to what
extent! zest of a lemon: juice of a lemon...
no aubergine... this time...
turmeric: the peasant's version of saffron...
no difference... you can sprinkle some of that
anti-bleach magical dust and it works
just as well as a pinch of saffron...
but we're talking about the sauce...
cinnamon i already mentioned:
even though you can use acacia bark as
a substitute... pepper: already mentioned...
honey...
imagine my shock: no mention of a canned
lot of plum tomatoes...
******* roasted walnuts...
pomegranate molasses...
tomato puree...
ciućpajza...

this wasn't a curry... walnuts, though... when roasted?
ahem... "cultural appropriation"
of the Indians using cashews... & almonds
in their Korma... but walnuts?!
hey presto... some Turkish ingenuity combining
beef with rosemary!

is my native tongue a dodo lingo?
i'm just... wondering...
perhaps with the omnipresence of English
we'll all be savvy cosmopolitan nomads
by the end of this century...
i still manage to squeeze in a word:
or two... into my currency of the current:
lingo... but... the point
of: no one's speaking it beside me...
it's not a rhetorical question...
it's not even a question to begin with /
per se... it's a... vague obligation to:
some mustard seed metaphor sort of "power"...

youtube used to be such a fun website...
until the wallets started rummaging
hyping up...self-tutorial videos of make-up:
cover-up...
it used to be (this)... now it's... )this(...
sure... don't blame women...
it's not like Helen wasn't fabled for gearing up
a thousand ships...
Eva Braun wasn't Jewish... no no!
she wasn't... wi- do you really need the suffix
-nk?!

a grammar school playground filled with only
boys... hey... presto!
a girl comes in...
        what's going to happen?
the worst things... imaginable...
i'm giving birth to a shadow...
she's curious about giving birth to the gambit
of: more time... please...
i can be done with all of this spectacle in
a moment... she needs this misery to continue...
come to think of it...
i don't think the supposed
"forbidden" fruit of Eden did anything to Adam...
i think the fruit was a placebo...
he just towed his ******* ******* along
to experience the wind & the dangle...
whatever the metaphor of Moses implies...
ignorant of dinosaurs?!
seriously...
there's a talking spine of a t-rex...
there are the crocodiles of the Nile...
there's the imagining of a large fire-breathing lizard:
a dragon...
oh sure... the idea of dinosaurs wasn't somehow:
unconsciously implanted into us...
dragons precursor the discovery of dinosaur bones...
don't they?! don't they?!
imagining dragons precursor our discovery of
dinosaur bones!
no?! no?!
hell-oh... Pandora... how's tomorrow?
oh, right... can't say... just like today then?!

since the usual quest of bypassing the atypical
gatekeepers has been... quenched...
i'm no Tolstoy...
western democracy is worried about democracy
per se:
ooh... something terrible is bound to happen!
some terrible has been happening since
time immemorial...
it's only inflated:
in a society bound by glorifying sociopaths &
psychopaths...
the fakery escalates... so much of this culture
is bound to celebrate: hardly the opera singer...
hardly the poet... forever & until more
the Thespian... you know what happens to a culture
where only one art-form is given:
too much attention it deserves?
there was that period of time when
poetry was celebrated... when the western
letf-oids seemed rather... refreshing...
what now?

           let's go back to civilisation based on
the motto: we need carrots!
we need cabbage! we ******* need root vegetables...
oh forget the fruits...
that's not important for us...
winter is coming: a warm winter...
to borrow a phrase:
how can there be any hyperboreans:
what eternal sunshine?
i think of an eternal night...

               when i think of the wind:
there's not one... there are 8...
the wind from the north... south...
the wind from the north-east...
the wind from the south-west...
i count 8 winds... if there aren't 8
then we have a lemniscale...
a lazy: reclining 8... or a beta metaphor: B...
no?
the origins of numbers are all Hindu?!
sure... the letters too?
i can... rewrite the origins story
of numbers using only Greek or Roman letters...
with hindsight it doesn't punch-up
but... proud retardations of borrowed
cuisine aside...
L: 7
4: G
      mirrors! mirrors!
9: P
8: B
1: I(ota)
3: E
2: Z
5: S
6: b...

we didn't march across the *******
Siberian tundra
arriving at the Caucasian
peninsula for no ******* reason?!
we also managed to drag along the tribes
of Mongols... Turks... that settled in this grand...
continental funnel...

i learned "numbers" from Sanskrit...
i suppose the letters too?
like... ooh... i love how Hangul was
conjured...
   Sejong the ******* Solomon...
Abraham... St. Cyril...
   i always thought that Cyrillic script
was a cheap-*** variation of Greek...
sorry... it looks: looked:
will forever look: sort of shabby...

this time round: the devil didn't come round
with either fire or sulphur...
smoke & mirrors...
smoke & mirrors: Kowalski!
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2017
fructus ex omni - the fruit out of everything,
the same as the fruit that is everything,
fructus id est omni...

i don't care for urban latin, i only dare
to attain the ****** version,
perhaps with latin words,
but nonetheless, with english grammar,
and that does not bother me one bit,
since i know i'm not speaking
japanese.

nonetheless there are two fruits in
the story, the fruit of confusion that
was promised as being the fruit of lucidity,
but also that celestial fruit,
which promised omni-: potence,
             science, presence etc.,
but instead trapped the deity in a prison,

what can you really make of a deity
that is bound to a prison of all things omni-?

the idea of omni-traits of a god,
are nothing more than an omnicarcer...
an all encompassing prison...
    which later becomes the "eloquent"
but rather sly argumentation for
pantheism...
           which makes it all the more impossible
to "argue", since my hand and my toe
and my toenails are all: "god"...

hence my argument that "god" is
a paraphrase...
                  of all the cul de sac of arguments
provided by man, this one has
to top it all off,
   man ate an apple, god ate a cherry...
    
and no, i don't mean there's a need to "cherish"
the existence of with prayer,
that lunatic gesticulation ritual,
  but sparing a thought is the least harmful of
all things possible, otherwise?
the argument goes down the toilet,
it's easy feeding nothing as a replacement,
after all, a res cogitans easily
feeds res vanus and this easily provides
enough atheists...
      thought feeds nothing first,
but i wonder: why does feeding nothing
always attract so many rhetorical questions,
so many retorting post scriptums?
the more the argument is heard,
the more the theologians calms down,
while the atheist becomes more & more angry...

i have a sincerity do the argument of:
an omnipresent omnipotent "god" is confined
to a straitjacket,
      a straitjacket of our cyclic arguments,
our cul de sac arguments,
because, by now, my **** is god,
         and it all comes down to the ridiculousness
of giving all imaginable power,
to a being, that, perhaps, has no ultimate power,
given that such power, would abolish
the theatre of human freedom being expressed...

it's still boiling down to the point of
infantilism of counter-arguments, on & on until
both parties agree: 1 + 1 = 2.
i don't know why atheists ever cite kant,
if you read him, he clearly states:
i'm tired of the counter-arguments against
a god,
  just like aristotle was wrong about
the origin of flies...
   the non-existence of: said being,
and the the big bang theory...
  well, that's just as obsolete as in the biological
canvas of anomalous generation:
the notion of spontaneity! maggots spawn from
the rotting flesh of fish!
     nonetheless, maybe this "god"
of omni- etc. attributes became an atheist
himself, when it became all too ridiculous
reaching the pinnacle of pantheism?
maybe god didn't die in auschwitz as the jews
suggest, maybe he just became
                     pantheistically altruistic?
i.e. why bother doing anything,
if i can do everything? i can be lil jimmy's
thumbs up at a football match,
    why bother the dimension of absolutism,
when everything is nicely relative?

of said primates,
  it can only be said that the civilisation
with an eloquent argument for,
   or for no "god" will fair best...
unless i'm really ****** at counting,
  i must have counted 1 billion indians and
1 billion chinese...
              and no, i don't believe in atheists
who have the tenacity to have their arguments
guarded with overt emotional stipulation,
hyping, hyping...
   to argue against subjectivity
with overt-sensitivity and fiasco theatre of:
never the calm nut on the ward...
   goes... nowhere...
                       i still find it funny how
you can translate biology's anomalous generation
in a microscope, translate it via
the telescope into the big bang, and find
that: nothing doesn't exactly conjure up
nothing, or whatever that original phrase was:
nothing can conjure up everything?
     everything was... nihil contra nihil?
        never mind,
        it's still a prison of pantheism,
        and no argument will ever be sensible regarding
this prison + straitjacket...
          it's a trap, and i know it, because
whatever argument there is to release
the spectator "god" out of it,
       is about as pointless as: reinventing the wheel.
Ben Jones Jan 2017
I’m burning last year’s diary
Farewell those blasted days
Those memories are turned to ash
In a smouldering malaise
The resolutions came and went
They barely left a mark
But now they’re just a puff of smoke
Expanding in the dark

I’m deleting last year’s twitter feed
There’s nothing there to see
No re-tweets of opinion polls
And hash tag R.I.P
So long the queues of angry trolls
Who meme instead of typing
Political lies, celebrity thighs
With constant over hyping

I’m having a lobotomy
To erase last year completely
I might just sit here dribbling
But I’ll do it quite discreetly
So raise a glass and think of me
While lost in celebration
I’ll be here in my padded cell
Under heavy medication

**
Devon Brock Nov 2019
Weathermen are pushing the storm.
Nobody noteworthy died today.
Eight to twelve on the Twins.
Havoc on the plains and cancellations
pending. No travel advised.
The schools flaked out before
the first wind blew, and the office
is gutted parental.
Milks are shoveled in carts,
pricey waters too. Croutons
got hoarded like hardtack,
and only the lettuce remains,
only the lettuce, the leeks,
and a few fibrous cereal grains.
jeffrey conyers Apr 2017
Enemies, we always had.
Some just waiting for our demise.

While others states, it's just a matter of time.
But we are brave.
More so, we are bold.

But life has preached and taught us.
Pick your battle wisely.
Or America, might be all alone.

Elected leaders hyping about strength of our country.
Except picking battles to show our toughness.
When we are aware of our military forces.

Jesus seeks peace from destruction.
While mankind seek wars to pen medals of our firm warriors.

But to many, when your allies might abandon us.
Many sit and wonder about that day.
When America will be all alone.
Yo my rap flow leave lines chalked like ****** marked hunt like a hawk could make a ant bark from the spark
Of my thought mind brought into the universe make words hurts through every verse always first bloodthirst
More than Vampire eatin' flesh is my desire through the bars of fire suckas retire life expire
Once I set the destination enter into the abomination leaving situations
******' like the United Nations slashin' bodies like Jason double dimensions tastin' from the axe bladin'
Ya whole anatomy who badder then me? It's the lyrical leatherface keep the sickles laced
In blood then wide the crud off
Cuz of ya brain residue fallin' off back to the loft
Beat the ***** til my **** soft rough and rugged **** it sip hennessey and blunts forever pullin' stunts make hataz jump
Around from the gun sounds they love to clown leavin' ya to drown
On ya esophagus cuz I'm quick to bust throw ya body in cracked sarcophagus

I rock grey skulls sippin' red bulls keep blades unda the wools packin' tools to fools who don't know the rules
Check ya boundaries or see the cemetery critics worry while I bury more threes than Curry my guns in flurry but never hurry
Deaths takes a slow toll as ya roll up **** creek and ya body starts to reek sleep
Say goodnight to the mic killed ya might
Non could fight the ***' an no biting nice with the writing brain cells fighting hyping
Me up to some wicked **** reigned from the pits of holy Grail though I sail
On mystery waves make tracks untraceable like Bermuda hit the Buddha flows to boost tha
Energy rhymes Kennedy head shot with no red dot carefully planned plots
Jesuit keep it hot with the Glocks that rock
Harder than tapes of Elvis breakin' pelvis
Hang with my spiritual elders shelter
My caged thoughts from moon lights stalked
Over my sunshine darkness verses light
Wickedness verses right zoomin' for sight
Upclose and personal we got me ammo than the Panthers Sixties so glow feel my heat beaming soon to be steaming
jeffrey conyers Oct 2017
Suddenly, quickly, they arise with a statement.
A complaint to some it might be.
Borrowing a tag off Black Lives Matter to express their frustration.
With the word white before the rest.

Then many within the minority rank are impress.
Cause history has shown they never came up with anything original unless it came off of many blacks.

Either many stole song credits.
Many stole variously created ideas.
But when you visit into the spoken words of white lives matter leaders.

You instantly guided to their leaders.
Same ones we have seen through various decades.
An angry white male stating fiction more than facts.

Almost in similar ways of our present president.
Who's constantly on the attack?

When rock and roll rose to prominence?
It was them hyping that it traced back to the race of blacks.
Videos exist to state this.

And now, they out in droves with some complaints of old.

But pay attention that many crying fouls can't begin to accept a changing world.
Where is competition the tool many must face?
Or unless you employed by a family-owned company.
Then many of them have never gained anything of their own.

Obviously, the justice system has been better in favor of them.
And soon we ALL will see the truth.
That when we ALL bleed the color will be the same.
Cause
The Atlantean Conspiracy
by Eric Dubay

The class “Dinosauria” was originally defined by “Sir” Richard Owen of the Royal Society, and Superintendent of the British Museum Natural History Department in 1842.  In other words, the existence of dinosaurs was first speculatively hypothesized by a knighted museum-head “coincidentally” in the mid-19th century, during the heyday of evolutionism, before a single dinosaur fossil had ever been found.  The Masonic media and mainstream press worldwide got to work hyping stories of these supposed long-lost animals, and then lo and behold, 12 years later in 1854, Ferdinand Vandiveer Hayden  during his exploration of the upper Missouri River, found “proof” of Owen’s theory!  A few unidentified teeth he mailed to leading paleontologist Joseph Leidy, who several years later declared them to be from an ancient extinct “Trachodon,” dinosaur (which beyond ironically means “rough tooth”).
War
Leaders with their corruptive works
Terrorists equipped with swords
Militants armed with guns
Youth given jobs
To spit hate-filled words
Their pocket is stuffed
with 50 bucks
Their nose 's stuffed
with hyping drugs
Now their runs is on
Houses burned
Street filled with blood
soldiers left to rot
When all the damage is done
People start screaming war
Sure,
we no go 'gree, yea, we will not
Yes because
at the end of it all
innocent 's cuffed
And the real culprit is undisturbed
God! When will all this stop
When will the table turn
What an unbalanced world
Infamous one Sep 2022
Q67
Some friend slandering your character trying to take a girl off your hands. Thinking you can take and touch something that's not yours. A friend wouldn't do that sad to think. Trusting the wrong people hyping them up to be left disappointed.
Not a cheater and it's not welcomed. A person that cheats will get friends to lie and cover up their shady actions. No one wants that pressure or responsibility. If you can't stay loyal and true stay single because it just hurts and wastes everyone's time.
Don't have kids if you can't support them it's the worse when a child feels like it's their fault because the parents aren't there. Unworthy of love being left discouraged watching one parent drunk and the other working hard to provide. Be there instead of picking and choosing when to be a parent. It's a lifestyle not pick and choose when it's convenient.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2021
****! there's no milk in the house.. never mind... the house has already stressed a want to deviate from the standard English cup-ah... it's not exactly unique... the English way of contaminating black tea with a squirt of cow *****... sorry... juice... there are plenty of stories surrounding this practice in Siberia... among... lactating women... if Siberia is on show... then the whole of Russia too... if i were ever to visit the United States... Tokyo conquers my imagination over New York... there's the Belgium of L.A.... i'm simply not that interested... oh the natural north American continent i'm very much interested in... but not so much with what has layered itself over it... i'd still rather see the Kamchatka peninsula... the volcano "avenue"... ****! there's no milk in the house... the household decided to switch to a green tea: a yerba māté (or... m'ah t'eh)... lime infusion for some... IM-BIR (ginger) infusion for others... no milk in the house... which implies that i'll have to buy a pint of milk on the sly... and glug it down... in between finishing off an ice-cream on a stick... raspberry: rhapsody ber-e! or bear: é (yes... no exclamation mark).. milk the hooves of my trot... the Sri Lankan rubber of my 23cm tires pumped up to 80+ Pascal(s)          (?)... if it's not a 35cl of whiskey is must be a pint of milk... goat milk is overrated... by all clinical standards of wholesale... it's nothing short of what's cow: long-life... excessive pasteurißed milksch... ah: some relief in german when scribbling in  Ęgliš - phonetically: with a "trick" of hiding the N: lost an IN(?) inquisitive tone: tier above... the monotone of narrative... oh... hiding one arm of the tetragrammaton is easy... sharp quest: q: ooh... oh! i seem to have forgotten what i wanted to scribble in the elder-tongue... maybe it might come back to me... after all... there's an undercurrent of: congregation but: the aliases are awry... we do not share the same etymological roots... der körper schlafen: solange der schatten: getanzt! jetzt! jetzt ich merken: von die
unmittelbarkeit of thought with short-term memory! this one time... the devil didn't come with either fire or with the perfumery stressing sulphur... at best he was gagging to add a zest of: zitrone-limette-orange... perhaps... just perhaps... der teufel vergessen (to forget is also a memory) zu bringen das feuer... aber! er tat bringen RAUCH und (the definite plural article for) SPIEGEL! i learned my lesson... upon each visit to Ypres.. seeing the graves of supposed ethnic brothers... the anglo-parade of "individualism"... and how the Detusche were... burried: en masse... no robin: now sparrow... designated their song over the seemingly marble stones of the named... but when it came to how the Germans were... folded... brick-on-brick... a haunting reminder... the sparrow / robin always deemed it necessary to... haunt a tree with a song... for the tree to escape the polyphony of the wind... we're talking a ****** riddling... empathy with the neighbours of Europe... push from Asia that wasn't the HOO'NS... the English had a Spanish torrent: back in the day... odd... how easily the English has capitulated having invited their former colonies to the sandpit... their native women have been barren: without a sense of agency...  they still capitulate... like... there's no like quiet like it... the Spanish armada failed like the Mongolian fleet failed when the invasion of Japan was being scrutinised... why wouldn't i somehow: pity the German soldiers of world war I... entombed in mass graves... sure as **** & the constipation that comes prior... i figured it out... just today... when men... single... and send their ******* dysfunctions: clean-cut-and-perfect... they take the shot of themselves... AFTER... they have *******... obviously it looks larger... with all the blood drained from the abilities of the scribbling hand.. they take the vanity shot after they have *******... nothing worth of note: prior...

(the devil forgot to bring the fire... but... he did bring smoke und mirrors!) i mentioned this somewhere... in: alt... etwas güt! (not... gat: not gut... my gut? good... softer... german-esque) Englisch ist ein späterzunge: it made sense... when there was an Empire.. but... now? ******* rhubarb... Rue-Barb... graffiti or no graffiti? that technical observation... no articles... included... when adjectives are being "stressed"? perhaps only in german... in all the german tongues: this over-stressing of the pronouns... of definite... indefinite articles... in the ****** tongue the pronoun I... makes are rare curtain drop... Freud was right about the vanities of men... Copernicus... Darwin... but he faltered... citing himself... some languages have pronoun exclusion parameters... you can't change a grammar... while nouns are asexual i English they are "sexed" up in other languages... but you'll find it rare: to spot the ****** use the pronoun: JA... i... ich... isch... whether speaking or writibg... in terms of language... England? *******... wenigsachsen! truly... *******... like i was addressed: silly ****... verpiss dich: wenigsachsen!


i had a "friend" once: a fwend... more like someone
i shared an occasional drink with:
then again... i did most of the drinking
while he staged most of the awkwardness when
i'd: from time to time... turn into a silent boor...
anyway... i was lazy and he was fat...
or i was fat and he was lazy...
                     by one stroke of the blue moon he
thought it was wise to lose some weight
by going to the gym...
never a good idea to shed off a dozen or two or
three pounds by going to the gym...
by all means: turn to the bicycle...
turn to swimming... turn to push-ups...
stomach crunches? eh... like Socrates remarked:
i like my stomach lamb-tender...
makes it easier to continue sparring the ol'
liver with a southpaw cider before noon...
but it was never a good idea to hit the gym, bro...
to shed some weight...
now... well... he's definitely slimmer...
a no-fat content milkshake sort of a shadow
that he now casts...
but... eh... gym bro... you won't find my lifting
weights... cardiovascular exercises since:
it's the closest you get to imitating ***...
plus... when you're the wolf with the three little
piglets on a red light at a traffic junction:
all hot & bothered: heaving and hyping up
the loss of breath...
ping... go the ******* of some traffic collision
of a woman... bad bragging rights...
hell: if no one's going to use me up
for some luvyy-dubby-teddy-bear-*******
i might as well: self-deprecate myself...
- you won't find me lifting weights because
this "friend": fwend of mine has exchanged
a weight problem for a... skin problem...
nothing dermatological you see...
it's the excess of it...
   if he only listened to me and shed the weight
via the cardiovascular "method"
his torso wouldn't be looking like a interspecies
mutation of how a dried prune turned into
a phallus and magically ****** an elephant's
******...
just saying... swim... press-up... cycle...
by all means...                 hell: even explore the mind
while taking to a marathon length walk...

p.s. for anyone who's a W. H. Auden admirer...
perhaps i was too... perhaps i still sort of...
well... it's not terrible important...
but you know how homosexuals can be
these scalding / scolding ******* behind each
other's backs... or at least that's the impression
i get having revisited a passage from
Harold Norse's autobiography...
i reread it to remind myself that...
                      i might leave traces of conversational
overtones... i might not rhyme:
or bother much with: tech-niq(ue) -
although: in (brackets) - surds...
                          you write them to differentiate
what would probably some out
to tek-nick: although the -nick would extend
into meek with an N -
but it's worthwhile to remember that...

i had another "friend": fwend... he complained
that i wrote in word salads...
last time i checked: he wasn't fond of a slice of cucumber:
either...
so much for friends: "fwends"...
i'm itching at 35 years old
and i'm itching for...
beside the prostitutes that give me
the most pristine smooches...
purpose... yes... that grand: "thing":
i simply don't have a noun for what's
already readily available...

chin low: forehead: high!
(kinn niedrig:
stirn hoch!)

                rotkehlchen und / oder spaatz
auf mein fahne!

i forgot to have friends...
i have my shadow to keep me company...
ich haven mein shatten zu
halten mein... kompaine...
    i die: Adolfo: KLAR
es ist nicht: Portugiesisch:
no leash? nein: leine: or geese..

                a cat might as-alles-goot...
fall asleep...
in an around a bookshelf of
unread Rousseau...
     **** the ego... **** the most ineffective crux...
the lost pagan: the hyper-inflated
intellectual Hebrew...

came the res cogitans... so too must have come
the res venus...
i find the lack of fear of deity suspicious
surrounding the Muslim bravado...
lasts for about one...
oink-oink-...
prickling at the mythological blonde:
by the time we're through:
there might be the rarity of the ginger
Pakistani...
or the bleached beauty of Afghanistan...
the mythological blonde escapade...

thank god i''m not reproducing...
now allowance of daughter by my side...
side to sire... what?
licking out some... sorry... you're not playing
jazz: some ******* ***-hole?!
i'm glad to not be in the race
of rats...
i'm bowing out: no one said it wouldn't
be painful... it will be...

i rather die the death of a wolf
with his teeth being pulled out...
than die the death of...
estranged relatives...
social cohesion race mingling *******...
it was so nice... so nice...
when black people ****** black people
before the blakc boy discovered the white
girl...
to hell with her... as Genghis Khan
sufficed to surmount...
if it didn't happen on the shore of the Danube...
then... it didn't happen: at all..

no... i'm just tired of how the English see
***... in Belgium you could buy a *****-mag
like you'd be watching a girl put on a full show
of cow-******* and a sack: without
the hurt feelings of a niqab:

well... i get the Muslims... somehow...
they're just about ripe in being synonymous
with... French footballers...
that's what happens when you don't
fear your deity:
you become... sort of... shrapnel...
tooth-itches:
not: teeth-itching... hell...
not (a) tooth-itch...
pseudo-grammatical post- Reconquista of Spain...
the ****-
-stanis still think of themselves as:
because of the Ummah: we... the Berbers of North:
Af- Af-... ath... aph... who knows?

the Muslims are... oblivious to having
a fear of their deity...
it's not like... i sacrifice my *******...
to ******* freely...
because... i don't exactly require:
a woman on a leash... a niqab might work...
but...
Muslims are yet to evolve to fear their deity...
after the fear comes
the secular apathy...
like the one staged by the Hebrews during
the holocaust...
a god: what god?
capitulating English folk...
because Birmingham sings aloud: loot!
hey presto... it feels like:
there's looting to behold...
between you an me...
i don't mind the future or:
copper-necks
and Brazilian mulattos...

100 years from now...
the details of a Hapsburg dynasty will be worth...
the face of F.D.R. on a dime...
equivalent or: there: about...

as is due: i must: applaud the victor:
i'll die towing the remains of the day:
a sunset come the tide toward
the Faroe Isles...
where i'll breath my last into
fathoming the wind...

dodo project: last introspection...
by no god or genes...
let these people have what they utmost
deserve...
the humidity is getting to me...

i'll just... sort of die... admiring the corpus
of either the Janissaries
or the Mamluks....

to heave as much as a woman;
to enter the confines of a storm:
i 'd sooner fathom
the depth of the angered sea...
than... quest...
for the benevolence of a woman...
i've teased the depths...
i've angered the tides...
i've become:
the anchoring of the shore!

tomorrow the world ends...
thank god i'm no safe-keeping of either
Shakespeare or the Quran...
why?
toward my own privacy...
i'm sure at least one *******...
will want be revived:
just one... that might want to keep me alive..
just one? timid bunch?

have it your way: camel-jockey...
have it your way,,,
like any new-found-riches of an Arab
undermining a Bangladeshi..
**** the Arabs...
leave 'em in their...
whatever an Arab "thinks":
most probably something less than a Pakistani thinks of...
ahem: 'em...

**** the H'arabs!
best begin a reworking of: no oil involved...
with the ****'ites...
Persian pirate... to hell with the poodle
masters of the parasitical Sunnis.
Yenson Aug 2019
Remind me of my smartness
how I played plotters of the grid
while planning formation I was yawning silliness
stuck their laughs in throats and made them swallow the bride
show me the bride and I see a dud puppy held in stuck surprise
and the dumdum apple tasters of Eden still think they rule in air

Flowing in delusions and empty dramas
they tarry pointlessly as Eskimos in white snow blindness
too vacant to think, too frustrated in the neurosis of shame
mired in falsehood and mudslinging the eggs hang on ***** faces
no marks playing mind games become mind playing them like fools
the pettiness of petty minds too petty to register for Registrar above

Comprehensives garbage's galore in full fool-dom
reared on ignorance and muck hyping nonsensical illusions
warped mentalities meet hate meet envy stirred in inferiority complex
under the tutelage of thieves and drunk on covert racism shamelessly
says class war from soap-dodgers and failures called anarchist today
go see how foreigners fill yon universities and see your future Rulers

Indulgent petty fries and boiled sausages
yobs chavs in affray dreading the rise of talents and excellence
stop me but there are thousands going places while you stack shelves
anarchy yourselves to beg sicknotes from the Asian doctor classmate
as you limp in all wrinkled and grey aged thirty and six yet in prime
misspent youth full of hate, jealousy and envy now on crutches
where your voices of revolution or are you now Anarchy extinction
Wednesday, September 9, 2015


The Atlantean Conspiracy
by Eric Dubay

The class “Dinosauria” was originally defined by “Sir” Richard Owen of the Royal Society, and Superintendent of the British Museum Natural History Department in 1842.  In other words, the existence of dinosaurs was first speculatively hypothesized by a knighted museum-head “coincidentally” in the mid-19th century, during the heyday of evolutionism, before a single dinosaur fossil had ever been found.  The Masonic media and mainstream press worldwide got to work hyping stories of these supposed long-lost animals, and then lo and behold, 12 years later in 1854, Ferdinand Vandiveer Hayden  during his exploration of the upper Missouri River, found “proof” of Owen’s theory!  A few unidentified teeth he mailed to leading paleontologist Joseph Leidy, who several years later declared them to be from an ancient extinct “Trachodon,” dinosaur (which beyond ironically means “rough tooth”).
jeffrey conyers May 2020
Saw the news?
Saw them with their powerful weapons at various capital?
Something about these militias folks.

Don't get me wrong?
They all not white.
But it's this division that makes you wonder?
How bad are you?

Cause if you were tough?
Go back out and fight these wars and give those forever involved a break.
Even if you a former soldier?
You hyping and showcasing yourself.

A threat is anyone using a weapon to intimidate.
But this only applies to a few?
You protest at the state capital and not arrested.

Why not?
Take this same mentality to the White House and witness a different story.

Instantly Secret Service going to show you something different.
And if pushed?
The consequences of going to be totally different.

Then one is local and the other is federal.
So how bad are you?
Cause you have a powerful weapon.

Get over yourself.
To others, you're nothing special.
Infamous one May 2021
K7
Back on this writing project, trying to believe in it. Get lost in the story creating character some are too much finding the chemistry. Building up in the mind hyping things up. Slow down figuring it out over time.
Tired of them dulling his shine
Someone was always mad or offended
Tired of walking egg shells
All they did was talk about everyone
They were no better or worse off
He minded his business that's on them
Held them responsible for those actions
If a made a mistake being extra cautious. Never hear the end of it
IN WITH LESBIANS means hyping lesbians till my delineated denture cracks & typing lesbians till my fixed finger cracks & piping lesbians till my purposeful pronghorn cracks while all about me are lesbians pumping tires and siphoning diesel & canning pickles and gesticulating wildly in 10-finger modem under the pretense of cracked telephones, and, to benefit lesbians & their “isms” worldwide.
means hyping lesbians till my delineated denture cracks & typing lesbians till my fixed finger cracks & piping lesbians till my purposeful pronghorn cracks while all about me are lesbians pumping tires and siphoning diesel & canning pickles and gesticulating wildly in 10-finger modem under the pretense of cracked telephones, and, to benefit lesbians & their “isms” worldwide.
Infamous one May 2021
K28
He was over hyping them up
Feeling like a **** up empowering BS
Never a brown noser trying to belong
Stopped putting forth effort
Energy never matched up drained
Cared more still shot down the most
Once he moved on seen as the enemy
A trader tired of being looked down on
Never seen as an equal not materialistic
Kept chasing the dream in his mind
Called crazy for having an opinion
Understood others while being written off
jeffrey conyers Sep 2019
Why get mad?
Change it.

Why?
Do you have school fights?
Because of parents being inactive.

The two that have any conflicts?
If the parents get them together to air their grievances?
They find all problems truly minor.

Ask?
What you fighting about?
And listen to the mess to come.

Someone said this.
Someone said that.
Someone stated you want to fight.

This right here?
Can be contained quickly before any fists are thrown.
But informing your child personally what's waiting for them at home.

Except some parents encourage stupidity.
Eventually, if level heads stay calm peace will be achieved.

Why get mad?
If your race painted in a negative light?
Change it.
Don't keep hyping on images?
When upon the news many of your own love being the subject.
Chree Apr 1
I aint got no way to be Lazy, Lazy
Like everybody is.
Like everybody is.
I aint got no way to be Crazy, Crazy.
Like everybody is.
Like everybody is.
I aint got no way to be dreaming, dreaming
Is everybody dead?
Is everybody dead?
I aint got no way to be A.D, A.D
Where everybody lives.
Where everybody lives.

You could find me at the last spot.
Hyping up everybody that passed on.
This could be my last thought.
Childhood everywhere my dads not.
Took my beginnings and did a back tuck.
Represented by a bad tongue.
Half a lemon with a glass jug.
Trying to fill all of your cracked cups.
But.

I aint got no way to be Lazy, Lazy
Like everybody is.
Like everybody is.
I aint got no way to be Crazy, Crazy.
Like everybody is.
Like everybody is.
I aint got no way to be dreaming, dreaming
Is everybody dead?
Is everybody dead?
I aint got no way to be A.D, A.D
Where everybody lives.
Where everybody lives.
Are you tired of ******* in front of people who don't appreciate what a shapely dish you are? Is your **** cavorting wasted on junkies & winos? Want to enjoy excellent pay that entails light prostitution? Your dignity is important & our light prostitution is designed to maintain low-mandated, high standards. Prostitution has a well-deserved reputation of being exciting yet dangerous. We've eliminated the danger thereby hyping the excitement! {Like men? Wanna man date? Have your mandate the Carter/Reagan way: drive the economy into the ground!}
Infamous one Dec 2021
M63
He was the bad guy rumors spread
By people who had no say or control over his life
False narrative to justify their harsh behavior
Trying to manipulate others to do the same
He gets why people cut the cord
Why you should match energies
Not let them drain your good vibes
Changing for the better not less
One minute the are behind you
Hyping you up now they oppose you
Not taking them on or bothering
You helped them while they were down
Now their up trying to knock you like if its some kind of trade off
.day 11.

we have lockdown here as you may know
it came last evening at 8.30, his knuckles
white,

john phoned me then to say he cannot visit
as planned with me at the upstairs window
him in the garden below

so i ordered the things online
like the paint that arrived
yesterday

‘happy yellow’ i gasped on opening
at how a colour can affect mood

a good name & i felt it so
that the doors will approve

later on the walk they dawdled up in front
stopped at all the turnings studying their
phones

in my delay i saw the birds nesting
the river running clean before they

went
and i
did my one
daily walk
now

with power

good to get
out

there has been too much order in
those tidy drawings so i used the
carbon again with looking away

they came random
slightly wistful i feel

my neighbour knocked at the back
so i opened and reversed down the
long library hall to talk loud from afar

he talked sense
but wondered
if they were hyping
it all up

still waking early
with the day fully
ahead and clear
the melancholy of hearing Springsteen's
born in the USA is still hitting me hard:
harder than i thought it might:
to give context:

      i asked my manager if he could demote
me from anything to do with responsibilities
of managing people in
little teams and have just a chill
day enjoying music:

how far i've come: i'm getting desensitized
with live music
and i've been toying with being
desensitized with ***...
regardless should my fantasy of a woman
come
i return to brushing my teeth
and jerking off like it's a spare tire...
tires... bicycle parts:
fish need bicycles no water...

but i knew there was a work around:
at first i felt i was being punished
i was given two petite women
and a man in his 60s with broken English...
then i was given an un'kle
then a Hindu toy of a half-made
i would call him the timid Frankenstein:
what Shelley envisioned in Frankenstein's
monster i see as not half the zombies
just zombies i just don't: want to understand
i'll replace the comma with the colon
piling up on emphasis...

i will not resort to the straitjacket of
the paragraphs: i simply can't!

oh jeez it was so joyous to finally replace
the snapped spoke in my front wheel:
i remember my grandfather not bothering
to buy new rubber in the inflatable
dimension of:
that thing beneath the tire...
the spoke: spokes:
tire: tiresome...
but only recently i realized i had two spokes
that snapped and they weren't obvious
but the gears changed just fine...
but every time i peddled:
the cassette was all wobbly...
now came the change of the spokes
and i realized i didn't have the right tools
no chain whip...
but then again i have a cheap bicycle
that's rich with sentiments
and it really doesn't matter how
money and gold and riches operates
but this bicycle: is hardly something to be seen
in...
the frustration of a simple task
matched with not having the right sort of tools...

so if i was not going to be demoted to
a simple role:
hey presto! a switch of team members:
i was given the sort of people who
would never be able to eject people
for bad behavior...
so unlike other supervisors of a response
team
i just said: stick together:
let me know you're together...
stay together...
if i need you: i'll come and find you...
so i let
Michaella, Hussein,
Abdul and Vishal just wander:
apparently having a hands-off approach:
they talked and occupied themselves
while i stood outside of the vomitory at 514
by the information desk guessing
whether i could enjoy the gig...

i didn't... i ended up taking photographs
of the London skyline from level 5 of Wembley...
but how does the usual work dimension turn out:
the response team supervisor and the four hounds...
me?
as Muhammad no known Abdullah said to me:
you just look and intervene:
these were not hounds: i was not the alpha
these were not my betas...
i needed a new alphabet of meaning...
i just said to them: i'll call you when i need
you...
otherwise? you're free to roam...
sure: i called on my four to manage queues
in two instances:
i noticed one Wembley official calling over
the radio:
but i was already analyzing the chess pieces
of men on the concourse...
and when i put my team to task of bending
the *****-like-behavior of people:
winding curving the queue for drinks while
other peoples might pass...

i'd rather deal with the insensitivity of corks
and screws and nails
than motivating people to do my biding
not my biding
in an environment where
women lack so much:
in an environment where women lack
so much
dealing with people and not children...
not bossy *****: ***** you just don't understand!

700c x 28 wheel...
but the cassette: i can't believe i was riding my bicycle
down hills not afraid:
like the predicate on life in America
is guided by insurance...
like we can't just live to 40 and not flake it
stretch it to 80 whereby the killer-crusher-able and
Abel... says to:
aversion to tattoos:
that mark of Cain on my right shoulderblade
deviated my: if i ever had a:
fetish for tattooing my body...

maybe if i didn't have an assassination
attempt
in hospital that inflated my heart
after choking on the bigger **** to match
a ******...
then another assassination attempt
come aged 21...
how many times will i have to be tried
for not dying yet still living:
and how do people find themselves
able to live a life only exhausted by
old age...
but not life in between
from people just custard-and-fudge-packaging
their ****** sentiments of:
whatever it is that it might (have) be / been?!

i'm missing the proper tools...
Edie ****** me off
and i'm not talking to her because i'm being
a brain-child
and she's "just realizing":
so many complications about:
oh but sure: the average man moves
from Newcastle to Sunderland and that's
that...
i'm being asked to ******* to Hawaii from
London and leave the burdensome father
and mother while: while her mother seems
to be all catered for so
that means: i'll have to go back and also
tend: but to her with child the child is
uttermost important and to me
that's just not my child
but when the child not mine
overshadows the mother the father that's mine:
where do you think?

mother in defense of the daughter:
this comes across as
well: this son in defense of his father and mother
and maybe this is how modernity
ought to look like...
i wasn't happy with being demoted
but at the same time i was given a time
where i didn't have to be:
in the end i didn't enjoy the Bosses'
salute...
he didn't play Streets of Philly and didn't
play: my mustard gas track:
i never understood Iron Maiden's fetish
for world war I account
in poetics... like that war wasn't self-inflicted
by one family...
i wouldn't call world war I world war I:
i'd call world war I the War of Incestuous
Reclaiming of the Nation
away from the Pressures of Empire Building...
World War II was actually the first world war...
why then demonize talk of hyping up
a potentiality of a world war III being staged?

slow down: you'll get your world war III
as a world war II
because world war I wasn't really a world war...
you should know
that between world wars...
there has to be a cold war
of reflection...
past cold war I now a cold war II
so it seems only natural that a world war II
is impeding like scratching my head:
is that an itch or an inch of hmm...

so i had my "hounds" roaming while
i sort of: looked different in the background...
but even at the AC/DC gig
we had ejections
came Springsteen there was an atmosphere
of: had a good time will have a good
let's all have a good time...
but i don't think much of a rhino in that...
i just don't understand
why she thinks i can't think her claiming
my father's and mother's hard work:

would i rather the flimsy supra-real love
of blessed **** best ******
with Jason, Jeff and Peter:
would i rather be loved or homeless?
after all: how excruciating the laws of men
with all their sidetracking subjectivity of
passing judgement:
while the objectivity of the law of gravity:
has: already been passed!
so there's this weird impasse:
how naive am i and how desperate is she
to tell me it's not otherwise:
is she going to tell me i'm yet another
cradle-snatched example of ***
below par for her Mantis hot-spot of hot fat
*** and i'm so naive as to think:
**** is not enough
to... oh wow!

                if this was me i wouldn't really
as much as i'd like the headache of a teenage
girl:
i'm starting to think: maybe it would be
easier to have a boy to prize and mold and
figure **** out...
but then she's all flimsy and sorry-soppy and
for me i spoke to the night:
this relationship is turning out to be
one right proper: BOGUS of BOG...
so what? no signing paperwork:
we're still going to be these loved-up teenagers:
so i'll lie about nearing 40
and you'll lie about nearing 60
and somehow life will manage itself
like we pretend to work together
but here we are:
i've worked for something and you worked
for something:
there's a disparity of what we worked
for...
and now: we are to share?
if only my interaction with you was uplifting:
but i can hardly call it that:
as told in the mantra of high-school...
i just overheard two supreme quotes:

take a picture: it'll last longer...
and...
you're special: just like everyone else!
Catholic mantra:
yet still people manage to grind
a hope for that antonym i
just want a secluded life
i can envision working with people
but then days on end with
no one in my vicinity...

              aged nearing 40
and having my 20s in a recluse mode...
and half of my 30s...
why should it become so embarrassing
so incomprehensible to think i might
want to bypass all those complications
of dealing with a person
on a personal bias: focus...

            i just don't understand the need
for intimacy... that might develop into...
what? the fear sung about
in Eleanor Rigby?
where all those lonely people go to?
into Abraham's *****...
that's where they go to!

   but it would be so anti-****** to succumb
to just good ***
when i've amassed so much time spent
alone reading philosophy
and i read philosophy to escape religiosity
and that's just a ******* mismatch...
outright off the bat...
i've spent too much time alone
to somehow crumble:
i just don't want to hurt...
turns out the complimentary party
will just hurt itself regardless...

        i've spent too much time alone
and that's just that.
Infamous one Sep 2020
E68
Never understood
How some have it all still miserable
Ruin a good thing definitely blessed
Quick to point out others flaws
Notice everyone's mistakes
Never looking at themselves
They are just as bad or worse off
Always been thankful working for it
Didn't have much growing up grateful
Don't care for drama focused on work
Why be in a relationship just to cheat
If you can't stay loyal stay single
Friends talking bad your hyping them
Use to have a crew prefer to roll solo
Dating again looking for serious
Old relationship is not the standard
Fear of making the same mistakes

— The End —