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Vernarth says: "Give me some milk, and I will be the son of Zeus, perhaps as a means in everything and not a whole of which I never thought...!"

Wonthelimar from the Boedromion brought the arrows that Zefian brought, they brought the sleeping bodies of winter to the lap of the spring Boedromion, crossing the lines from spring to winter in the cycle that went directly to the Mercurial Ambrosia of the Cinnabar. Were they discreet detached arrows that he had thrown into the sky and did not return? but if in the rooms, and in the animalism stages that made the duty of rejoicing at the ****** of the Telesterion.  Wonthelimar being once more re-looted, before starting the works of the temple of the Megaron Áullos Kósmos, he returns to the cavern of Chauvet Wonthelimar. It distanced itself from the contravention of Apollo and Artemis towards an olive tree, originating in the arrows of Zefian, to mark the new cardinal points of the zenith, starting with the first two arrows that are placed in the bowstring, each one belonging to trajectories from north to south and the other two that were again violated with the arc of the stormy East, to launch the arrows from east-west with limits of southern magnetism. He carried in his belongings "The Iberian Rings", which would be the migration to the cardinals and points where the Megaron of Vernarth would be exactly, arguing that the phalanges of Zefian would be ordered in Syntropia and organic chaos in Patmos, Pythagorean proportions would be made, in essences of numbers that idly advanced in the temporal steps of Wonthelimar that mobile became of religious arrows and of the Mercurial Ambrosia of the Cinnabar, to help him with the most insightful points of the Constellation of Capricornus.  Zefian's tendency was one of evident delight after the bowstring being pulled, for phantasmagoric existence; presuming that where they fell would be the beginning of the storms that would originate the Állos Kósmos Megarón, for late courts imposed from a cosmos, which was directed by committing itself to its will and from a doubtful Vestal god advocating to associate with hospitable Canephores, such as Vestal Virgins of Roman bilocation, and quantum parapsychology of the dreaded in-between-tale alive that boils back in the arrows that had not yet fallen, and did not know their whereabouts. Like plates or serial hosts that were evoked from where the origin of the Universe was broken, to open towards the Duoverso contravened organic, vigorous and in anti-scorch to the divine celestial origin as a parameter of *****-ovule, rather in eonic instances in the fireplace of Hestia, running in eternities to vast volumes of light-years.

From the medrones that grow in the Nyons massifs, the Seven Ibic Rings were established.

Ibic 1: "The first was from the initiation of Wonthelimar and brought purity, for all who needed him and were visiting in the dark, and then he would find the light when he left the cave alive if he was accepted."
Ibic 2:” He was guided by Vlad Strigoi in the priesthood center on his shelves with the Chiroptera, and in excess of the mercurial ambrosia for the purpose of energizing the Tsambika Cinnabar.  Having all the protocol of Transylvania and eternity with the waters of Antiphon Benedicts”.
Ibic 3: "From the Eygues, the waters evaporated for healings of the tormented initiatory processes of raising the four Arrows of Zefian, to indicate the zenith of the Megaron."
Ibic 4: “This ring was from the antlers of Wonthelimar, here they wore the oikos or threads of Gold from Orphi, for the Himation and investiture to anoint the body of Vernarth, bringing the aerial atmospheres of the Alps and Ida as a complement to Mycenae- Aldaine ”.
Ibic 5: "This piece of metal speaks of the fifth plasmic element that would contract the universe and the Hyperdisis galaxy, to elevate it to Vernarth's neurological and Duoversal hyper brain twinned to the Mashiach."
Ibic 6: "It is the sixth piece of crowns of Kafersesuh, bringing the pollinations of the Lepidoptera, for the central stage of the investiture under the gloom of Hellenika and Theoskepasti."
Ibic 7: “It is the grave voice of the Cinnabar and the Antiphon Benedictus, together with the Lenten fast of all the hoarse voices, which inquire about the true phoneme and photon of divine mass light, to build the Áullos Kósmos. From here the purification will go up in synchrony through the final growth medron, up to the millimeter shoulder of the square meters assembly, which will illustrate the Megaron´s Acrotera  "

Ellipsis - Parapsychological Regression Marielle Quentinnais year of the Lord 1617

Wonthelimar was transmigrating to Chauvet, but the Pontias wind carried him from Nyons to Avignon, encountering filigree by Raymond Bragasse; a Former Dominican priest of Cathar descent. He always drenched himself in the estuaries of the Rhone, which came from the Saint Gotthard massif; being master and lord of dreams and of the breaking curses of the despicable administrators of the house of God, and of the Antipopes in Avignon.
Wonthelimar heard voices from some parapets babbling in the parapsychological regression of Vetnarth, on August 4, 1617, when Klauss Ritkke was found cleaning the main stained glass window; he heard heated dialogues between a Friar and a Gentleman, who was once an assistant to the clergy. Klauss could come closer and hear his conversation more clearly, until Friar Andrés, muttering, demanded indulgence from Raymond Bragasse, one or the other.

Raymond Bragasse Says: “My lord Wonthelimar; what grace has brought us together here in the middle of the Pontias, between hopes and reforms!”

Wonthelimar responds: "Your flight is a spell of the grace of André Panguiette, who will find us again. How many times with hope I fought to reform you Raymond... Oh Virga ac Diadema  sed Diabolus...!! Oh, ****** the devil smiled...!!

Raymond replies: “It is a major question to live if in something I have failed, take me to the sulfurous emanations of Hell. But my faith lies moldy at the bottom of the sea, a sacred myth of my truth..., and of my beloved Marielle...! There are fifteen thousand demons that possess my body... fifteen thousand demons for attacking the sacred mystery of the Holy Rosary...! Marielle was my light, my Edenic Eve, an admirable land. Now, she is my spell, my stubbornness or my constant sharp bleeding, without knowing where it has to pass...? I still remember that night, that gloomy night, renouncing my final vows of faith and the consecration of my soul. I broke my ties and ecclesiastical chores, all for Marielle, a noble descendant of the Quentinnais. I would never believe such regret in my destiny. I did love her, but her misfortune knew me. When I approached the edge of her house that night, I entered through the kitchen window. All were asleep, except for the albiceleste reflection of the last death throes of the deadly round of Quentinnais Mansion. I was thinking of rescuing her and saving something from those cheeks kissed by me, but her heart disease dried up his heart and her lungs. It is still possible to recall the last roses that I brought into her hands, they danced with her along with the hymn and the old dirge of the sleight of hand made by the monk, along with the cartomancy plays settling the minute of taking her into darkness, with her beautiful bare feet. What a pain, I could not rescue her from her, and death was dispossessing her! Her parents hated the mere fact of having her heart ruled by an impious priest, so I turned to the pagan and dark gods, to heal Marielle, and her heart to transplant it for mine. Since that day, I continue to burn in a polysatanic hell, to take out the little breath of goodness, and seize the transparent liquids that plague her existence and her serene metallic Diadem..."

Friar André Panguiette upon learning that his great friend possessed by the Devil would fall into some endemic evil infection...; Evil endemic to his love, he crossed himself when he saw that he became a horrible being. The jumbled leaves in the garden were transformed into Bible sheets torn from their bindings and fillings, the wrinkled ***** Saints slid down their columns, the sky proclaimed hemorrhages and the wind oozed foul gases, which in the firmament sprouted in clots of clots on the Papal House of Avignon. Fray Andrés, threw the rosary on the neck of the possessed person, and asked the Demons who were they most afraid of...? The demons answered this question, screaming and falling vertically down the central nave... they went down and flew!

Wonthelimar induces: “From that moment, you and Marielle would cross their gazes closely and love each other. In the following minutes of Pentecost, the two of them went alone to sit on the bench on the banks of the blessed wind that caressed their profiles, as if plotting to unite one with the other. Raymond effusively kissed her; he drew her to him, believing he sensed an eventual and sacrilegious separation from her. This is how it happened when François Quentinnais surprised them...:

François Quentinnais: With this example, you have provoked my anger Marielle...! Hundreds of men like me would react like this when they saw my daughter in the arms of whom until recently, she was hugging God!

Marielle: Father, I beg you for mercy, Raymond of precept sent a letter renouncing his vows!

When the soul of Marielle was entrusted, Raymond escaped seconds before shattered, he did not tolerate the nonexistence of Marielle; vegetating rotten grass of the estuary, emerald swallowed by fire. In a purely inorganic state, Raymond walked away from the mansion, walked through the leaden mountains, and on the cruise he walked through the walnut trees in whose scarlet pods the intense cold of the esplanade howled. The almond trees cracked a baritone muezzin, which one day he wanted to go there, but could never reach the east. His beard reddened, his nails were like ram's horns, and his also reddish hair at the ends of it had black tulips. His clothes turned gray just like his eyebrows, and his breath smelled of nurse sewers of the black plague, the dry flow of his voice announced monosyllables, thus he purged his pain from town to town, from house to house, everyone quarreled with him, and then they were exasperated by kicking him out. Until in June 1617, caravans of people started from the southern town of Avignon, escaping the flames of angry soldiers of the crusades. The fleeting townspeople carried on their banners the inscription... INRI. On the other side, they carried the cross and a colorful coat of arms that in the lower corner said Siccidemy. Then, there Raymond opened his bruised eyes, unable to contain the recovered memory of him, between gunshots, screams, sobs, and screams, the hundreds of steps that were heard around him, led him to tear and save his life. In an instant of stillness, he found himself surrounded by people until one of them took him into his arms to hydrate his mouth. We are Albigensian, and you... Who are you?

Raymond replied: “I fled in search of a miracle that could save a beloved being. I used to call myself Raymond, now I don't know what name to go by. I fled, but I had to face the situation, even having acted behind the back of the Church”. An Albigensian says: “The clergy have also believed that our sect has acted behind the back of the Church. However, his powers and his government have registered absolutism within Christendom”. Another Albigensian says; “We seek the establishment of ancient Christianity, we deny the existence of purgatory, the importance of rituals, clerical organizations and the possession of goods by the clergy. And for this reason, we have been expelled from our lands, from our homes, our children have paid for the Sacred Inquisition, in the hands of those who one day... baptized with blessed water”.

It was on June 18, 1617, the Albigensian fugitives were besieged in Montlimar. The Argentine crosses gleamed like dogs eager to bite the enemy. The open-minded Albigensians gathered together with Luzbel, who floated on a calypsigenic cloud. Raymond and the others piled up essences in the fuels to start the pact, after this event François Quentinnais answered negatively, and strongly took her daughter by her hand, pulling her sharply to the float. The horses slip their hooves before the sloping pastures carpeted by tiny Calypso flowers; the mayoral pressed his thin lips, also raising his shoulders, so as not to hear the despotic cries of Monsieur François. As for Reverend Raymond, he could be seen crying silently, accompanied by late halos of the luminosity of the final and sad day. Sorrows and regrets dislodged his bones that underwent violent arthrosis, populating his body in a sedentary lifestyle and irritation. I myself say Wonthelimar, I am the one who carries Marielle's love in me, I am your Raymond. Remember that night that...: "When the monk retired to pray, you stormed the bedroom, and uttered Marielle..., Marielle:," wake up, in vain I fear to leave without your divine voice. Marielle, what do you have...? I don't think your father's impure will blind your eyes to not see me, or he ripped your sweet voice to not name me...? ".

The Albigenses resigned to the spell, their adherents had largely been reduced, only ten or twelve remained. That later they fled from Montelimar escaping to the west, crossing the enchanted Rhone. The Siccidemy troops mutilated the last demonized Albigensians; nothing would help for their lives, everyone would bleed except the group that fled with Raymond. For several days they wandered the Cevennes plateau, provisioned themselves in Montpellier, and arrived in Carcassonne on July 20, 1617. Little could they remain here, since the congregation of Santo Domingo, without distinction, attacked the population decimated by the crusaders? What a regrettable exodus for Raymond with his black flock fleeing from where his feet laid hope! Twenty-two days of bitter flight, and everywhere the crosses, until Raymond decides to separate and go back to Avignon. He takes a  sailboat off the shores of Narbonne in the middle of a stormy gray day, in his bitter journey he dreams of being born again and having Bethlehem as a lineage, on July 23 of the same year, he lands in the waters of Marseille. When he was discharged from the port, he undertook a light journey to Avignon, near Arles, thousands of fellow citizens started from the hosts of King Godfred of Bouillon, the nobles cooperated by revealing the mobs that gathered in the city, the Hussites, and the Waldensians; Iconoclast heretics, fighting fierce battles. The crusaders took the offensive and tried to prevent them from burning their sacred images, which had already been torn to pieces throughout Gaul. Raymond, distant, helped the most serious, he was afraid of being confused by one of them, it was better to hide in the Cathedral of Arles. Upon entering, he felt a dizzy ***** that shone timidly in the hands of his performer... it was a little girl who, when looking at him, named him Dionysus..., demi-god, save us! Raymond fell into a daze, and falling into a dream that told him of barbaric actions, with masked fellow citizens lying neutral in their gestures, and suddenly angels revealed to him that they were looting the pantheons of Avignon, to burn the rosaries of the saints. Bereaved in their graves, some Albigenses exhumed the bodies of relatives related to the Clergy.

Raymond was sweating his hands and forehead, he struggled to get to the Quentinnais mausoleum, straining his precognition, he crossed the interdepartmental courtyard, he continued to haunt the packed pyramidal cypress trees and suddenly a lion-faced him dealing with a snake; with the symbolic image of the Quentinnais. He saw the slab desecrated, on whose horizon his Beloved Marielle slept. His skin prickled... it was the Iconoclasts avenging their own, with strong breaths he squeezed his hand, wanting to wake up... so it happened, he got up pushing the crowds that were holding him back, but his strength was growing. He rode a roan steed, in three bridles that he gave him he flew towards Avignon; his mount seemed to be a hot air balloon that flew with great dynamism. Raymond in his own painful station would moan his hand, his eyes; his legs creaked like the legs of the Pegasus that carried him fast.

Ellipsis Second Sequence Mausoleum Quentinnais

Finally, he arrives in the second parapsychological sequence, noting that Avignon was in ashes, takes the reins and immediately goes to the Quentinnais mausoleum, upon arrival, he appreciates several Albigenses committing crimes, dismounts, and runs screaming towards the defilers; he faced them with stakes, some demonized had to cut their throats, arriving in time to defend the remains of Marielle. For long hours he was with her alone, thinking about what to do, Raymond knew that he could not revive her, so he had no more redress than to invoke Luzbel, who this time revealed her true and evil personality as ruler of the evil spirits.

Raymond: Dear Luzbel, millions of Canaanites looked up at the altitude representing you; today I will do the same from here and beyond the solid roof of the mausoleum! Bring Marielle to life, come and twist her cheeks, since without her! I have had to live all this to protect myself from suffering. Since Pentecost, he hadn't been physically close to her. Now I need her... well, I lynched her...! Beelzebub making him believe that she was Luzbel, ordered him to extract her heart!

Beelzebub: “In Montlimar, I saw volcano crests arrive in such failure of my envoys. But it will not be repeated, and for it to be so, I entrust you to take out the heart of your beloved and tear the eyes from her that saw your gaze. Then open your chest with this dagger, I will draw your blood and heart, to moisten the heart of your Marielle. And finally, I ask you to bring a lip to me to enchant her lips in lilies. "

Raymond: “opinion accepted... that's the way I'll do it!
Being dominated by the spell, Raymond abided by every step dictated by the supposed that Luzbel lived difficult moments since he was a good day, but so many thousands of years of living in darkness, and in the midst of punishment that violently changed his mind. Justo Raymond carried the body in his arms so that the ritual would culminate. Luzbel snatched his beloved from him and with laughter he vanished.

Beelzebub says Mortal fool! Don't you see that I am Beelzebub; chief of the evil spirits and the guide of the Albigenses, Hussites, and Waldensians? Never invoke me in the Mausoleums, here betrayal triumphs. Now a Quentinnais will be my image on earth, giving her the doubt of doing well for many centuries.

Beelzebub took his beloved away, leaving the rosary wrapped in soft tulle next to the scapular in his hands. Raymond cringed in pain, and in an act of madness scratched his face. Poor Raymond, he told himself...!  That in himself he found no reason to live. He left the mausoleum at dawn looking around every corner in case he saw Marielle lost in his sight since recently. He was exhausted; he remained after the confession that was delayed too much because the events that took place in the Pantheon, in a way pretended to be the events that Raymond inexhaustibly narrated. And in a way, he feared for his life at that time unknown, by the mouth of some hidden place they documented his bitter inability to do well, and that he would fall under Raymond's curse. At this moment, Raymond lay lying on the banks of the Pantheon, from that day on, he did not know about the days, he only existed at night and he did not socialize with anyone, his madness sowed hatred for everything sacred and infernal, he dealt with the Holy Rosary found a magical find, until one day a new one reached her ears; she was referring to some crusaders who had intervened in Jerusalem when it was invaded by Saladin. A certain Frederick Barbarossa was drowned in Sicily by..., "Wonthelimar", who with the Diadem of a woman Seized the island of Iconium. This was the other new one that enlivened his spirit. This greatly surprised the worn Raymond, suspecting that the kidnapper of his beloved might be in cahoots. And as the news continued to hear her, it was said that her sacred beliefs allowed her to continue undercover, in order to continue for a long time, even in the other attacked city that would be Nice. He signed to the limit, for centuries that will serve us in future generations…, suffocating the iconoclasts.

The poppies moved from north to south through the Provencal regions. The oceanic eastern Gods Makara's in tumultuous pyramidal ships descended legions and escorts, to aid Raymond's farewell at Nice. At twelve o'clock at night, the prophetic edict of the Lord would be fulfilled, here the last words of that chimerical episode were received, and he feared that until then a first descendant of Raymond; he became a statue in ignitions of the reborn underworld. The Diadem will be transport and refuge, as for Wonthelimar he said doubtfully…; I think he is nothing more than the deviant Beelzebub, who with optical retractable eyes, in Montlimar disguised the initial in double V..., Wonthelimar, but I was wrong! Wonthelimar already transmigrated to Raymond, staying on the banks of a stream, with nausea he regurgitated his underlying spirit state from the lyrical crust. His mouth unsheathed the most diverse and heterogeneous chronolites; Parasitized dust in pieces of temporary stone, flowing in disciples, quarantine fragments, in marriages by sinuous water. Raymond slapped his thighs in anticipation of throwing up there. His blatant, incisive alienation took over his will, with inherent crickets singing to her in isolation from him, shining his conscience, and residing in the grace of the Holy Grail. The conquest of the earthly system amputated the Andromeda Amygdale; Constellation-illusion and spouse of Perseus, who is mysterious vehicles of the solvent Grail, kept him tied to Raymond. Deafening roars erupted from the earth pits, and the mass of the mountain hung above the trees, pseudo purple and violet rays bombarding sarcophagi all over Nice.

Wonthelimar: “Since this day I have been boiling in a polysatanic hell! The Ibex picked me up from the surroundings of the Pantheon and the Quentinnai mansion, where I have never been a human again, only an Ibex in the Chauvet cavern. Thanks to the herds of goats that adopted me that I have been able to bear their pain by taking refuge in the darkness of all times, which never transpires in the past, present, and future? Now I have come in this re-location, to reorder Vernarth's parapsychology, which you are too, and who has never been able to overcome the pains of love, even beyond pale death! "

From that moment, the shadow of Heracles is seen among them, encouraging them to be part of the gods, and of the feasts of the beautiful Ankles of Heba. Thus the words redecorated them both amid the thick fog, in Avignon. Afterward, Wonthelimar left and left Raymond to continue in Marielle's darkness to the end of the world. The blister day and the scorching night, thought one of the other in constant profit, for the good of finding them in the Kalijoron..., the well of the divine light of Eleusis, for those who rest in naive peace in the face of cunning, and the decorum of the gentle dialogues in the comedies of the exceptions, after crossing the Nile, with tributers collecting the faults of the gods, or else with horrific screams that would make them prey to an imaginary Gorgon.

Wonthelimar was now going after the “Íbics Ring”, which were left in the Chauvet cavern, by some Iberian tribes of the early Neolithic age, who were on their way out desecrated the cavern with ****** in the orbit of the Ortho Heliacal. From here, in the last goal, they reach the darkness where the vampire bats were terrified to see them with their eyes in mercurial ambrosia, which enveloped them with the gums in each one as they approached in the sound of night hunger arrests, next to the betrothal death brought by the darkness of the Strigoi, in lost wanderings of their wills following the search for the panescalm sheds, which carried human chiropterans for the regions of Transylvania, subjected to distinctions and exactions of Climate Changes. From here the bronze spear Dorus of Vernarth would go to the right hand of Wonthelimar, to shield him, and to put celery-foot feet on the ineffable Kanti steed, with certain renown of Eacid of Achilles stirring up hops and low bottoms of the mineral aquifer at the base of the den. In a quick figurative gesture of Achilles, Wonthelimar passes his right hand over his nose, noticing that lights trickled from the Auriga and the Automedon that came by order of Drestnia to provide aid to him, and to rescue the Iberian Ring Eagles, to transport them to the cove of the Mound of the Profitis Ilias.

In the eternity of the noise, Vlad Strigoi is in solidarity with him and gives him lightly from the bottom of the final flow of the bilges of his panescalm, condensing air of Gaseous Gold, in Pan-Hellenic regions, and in the Valdaine regions sixty-seven kilometers from that mountain area very close to Avignon. The infected zones of physical virtue were divided into micro-regions that were compressed before Wonthelimar merged into micro space within the cavern, to abandon the burning furnaces that came alongside his interpersonal goodness, in the metaphysical transfer of darkness, and of the wicked gentlemen drawing him towards the Parasha or Parashot of the Torah, so as not to be attracted as a human to ******-emotional implications or manipulations, who will snoop in growing voices in the voids of the cavern, and in the failing anxieties of the pompous and ancient effigy tarred from Hades. Wonthelimar limps superlatively with some nervous leave, but eager to apprehend the Ibic Rings. After the Benedictus antiphons were seen coming out of his chest, they were iridescent in magenta and mordoré for those who are ibex, always hiding under the goat epidermis, sponsoring happiness practices, one and the other after their vicissitudes in a cyclical mystery classroom. On the plains, you can only see haze and the experimental change when leaving everything in the hands of those who die without rainwater and bagel, in the most absolute solitude, amidst rocks that will never and never be reconverted, less into mid-plains giving terrifying compliments on flower baskets that stink of wandering Wonthelimar clones… not being!

Wonthelimar with Kanti, they emigrate from the cavern of Chauvet in their reminiscences, standing out from the voids and invocations of Raymond in unfinished by filling space in the hearts of both. Heading southeast towards Patmos with the Ibic Rings on his bracelets, wrapped in Vernarth's Himathion for his investiture!
Wonthelimar  Ibic Rings
they tore down the paintings;
they tore down the walls themselves.
and all to deconstruct a world
they would later attempt to reconstruct.
but reconstruction through deconstruction
is never an easy task;
never something looked upon in a noble light.
for the kings,
with their regal gowns,
would hang
these men shattering the windows
so that people could truly
see the world.

they stepped to right of their left hemispheres;
they stepped out of their bodies completely.
and demanded that each of us
do the same in whatever way we could.
but we couldn't, and we wouldn't,
because the life of comfort
is always something gained by keeping the poor in the dark.
for the poor,
with their simple hearts, would cry
out to these men tearing down art,
and shield their eyes
from the sun.

they shouted to the kings -- "ignorance!"
they shouted to the poor -- "blindness!"
and all to reach the gods,
who smiled down on all of mankind.
but mankind, never could seem to smile
when trying to reach the gods,
who lived in a world of infinite time, space, and color.
for the gods,
with skin the color of water, would watch
all of these men leaving no stone unturned,
when all they had to do was look
to the stars.
rolanda Dec 2013
West reality made so
that people forced to consume
whatever material or unmaterial goods
here any protest is legalised
in form of demo
which is necessary surround by police
northeless there are people exist who are illegal
beside of refugees from east lands
there also socalled  insane people
who are locked in closed loony bin
or hunted like amok
untill they really get insane
if you take separately each after other
their fate and observe it precise
you will find there all the evil of
patriarchal repression
what is the consequence of capitalism
patriarchal repression
which is so masterfully comuflaged in west
but since the victims, the renegades live on rand of society
no one ever take their lifes and deaths under lenses
just example:
feminists dont fight for the rights of the debased woman
 in their neigbourhood
but just speculate about arbitrageness in Iran
not ever able to change something in afar lands
they simply ignore evil which happens beside them
every day, every night
there is pseudo-publicity in capitalism
since those who rebel against
become mostly so oppressed
that they never ever get any chance to
speak out loud
and revenge!
While those anarchists and punks
who squats in city and towns
will never give political asylum
to the one who's life circumtances
penetrate to be betrayed by friends
living on the streets and parks
and hunted by psychiatry
during anarchists and punks are not
real activists of underground
but just kind of subculture
which live quite comfortably in capitalism
it just funky to be anarchist or punk
and nobody knows how they will act
in critical situation
I lost my believe on socalled leftists
in fact they are same equal part of society
like bankers or yuppies
with a difference that they
pretend  they still had some ideals!
known to many
believed by the few as
the truth
Accordingly my individual struggle their claim
is nothing as fallacy
whom believe? Whom with resist in action?
Where hides real iconoclasts?
Blair Griffith May 2012
I

A Genesis! The Exodus, the Exodus!
A departure from all terrestiality
Always immoral and depraved, bathed in filth, in self-loathing
Abattoir of our souls, it entrenches us

Also, we too must be of the same make
And bear with our corpses the same proceedings, the same caliber
Allowed to their subversive candor,
All that broke the Carthaginians upon their own passage
Across the peninsular pathways

S'il in our conquest we find, however, that the pachyderms have run aground,
Vous must aggregate our conscious thought
Plaitcate the ravenousness within the heart of victory.

II

Bring victory, the winged harbinger of the conquest,
Beg for tyrannical proclamations: the end of man, the end of men,
By now, the greater of the concepts is lost to its own devices, devices,
Belching out smoke, that bend the corpses upon their backs.
By wrenching from their life a sense of purpose,
Byproductively, they feed heroic romanticisms of combat.

Brought yet upon these fields, there lies no stranger enemy
But that of the tide
Being self-effacing, masochistic,
Belittling, She breaks herself upon the shore, ravaging the bodies of
Both, Playing as ******* and as subservient

III

Come! Wave upon Wave upon Frothing
Crest, to shores of golden enfrenzied ******
Calmed by the liquid of our ***** *****
Charging forth as we
Charge forth armies upon the field of slaughter
Callously, for you, our gilded monarch
Can you see? They cannot see, and we hope to elucidate your presence, they
Cannot comprehend or fathom what they
Cannot see.

IV

Ceaseless now the charges
Come further upon the front
Crashing 'gainst the openings of each
Clangor and madness
Coalesce to form death

Dripping anew with sanguine libations
Drawn fresh from naked lambs, freshly cut for their country
Dionysian warriors return,
Desire forming their mental undulations

Effortlessly they overtake their feminine fortunes
Effacing their identities, removing from them with their clothing, the
Entirety of their selves.

V

From carnal conquest they rejoice,
Flaunting the destruction they wrought
Flinging husks of women about the room,
Foisting these shells on other patriarchs

Given no choice, they return to fields of battle
Godspeed, gods' will, and god-granted
Gaian soil is retreaded by their sodden flesh.

VI

Hellish, infernal is their presence
Having lost no measure to revelry or rest, neither
Halting nor slowed, the march quickens in time with their lustful bellows
Hastened to madness by infinity
Harkened back to prisons of mental anguish by their creators
How proud they are, the Old Gods,
Hacking away the pounds of flesh to reveal the
Haphazard construction to their instruments of torture.

VII

Into the bloodshed, into the fiery cavernous opening of the crusade
Ignited by righteous scraps of cloth and metal
Ignobly formed into crudely significant, textured shapes
Iconoclasts to their own ideals
Idyllic in their self-mockery.

Jabbering like hellbeasts, the warriors drive into the flesh of the conflict
Jettisoning armaments in the process, their
Joie de vivre having been lessened by mechanical limits.
Jocular slaughter synthesized with demonic cries.

Kapellmeisters to the symphony of death,
Keeping in the rhythm of mutilation, counterpoints of steel clashing against breastplates, giving shape to a
Kleptocracy of life.

VIII

Languishing now in the refuse of the struggle,
Laden with corpses, the warriors remain restrained by fatigue
Lurching through the mud, calling out feebly with voices
Long since bellowed to pulpy masses of throat tissue.

Masses of flesh crawling across the fields of strife,
Macerated ground, weak and shifting, struggles to support the
Multitude of half-corpses now in eternal respite upon the bloodied pasture.

IX

Now broken with regret and shame they collapse
Nestled into the marrow of the fallow earth,
Needing only rest in the cooling tendrils of dirt and blood that trickle across them.
Né de nouveau, their trek leads them towards the grave
Necrosis having taken hold in their limbs,
Nascent corpses, they subside with grave finality into a dead collective.

X

Opaque irises await those who uncover the un-burial mound
Oafish sockets containing them like marbles
Open to the elements, decaying with their corporeal encasement, shaded by
Oaken leaves that remain unfallen, while
Obsequious maggots go about their task of cleansing the remains

Paralyzed in the final moments of their mortal coil, the bodies lay stagnant,
Pacified only by the removal of sentience.
Pagan rituals surround such corpses, and the intrepid discovers
Patiently await the arrival of some necromantic spirit.

Quasi-instinctively, the pioneers of the superterranean mausoleum
Quell their fears and remove the bodies from their conclusive locale,
Quantifying their deaths by the armaments and metal carapaces upon them.

XI

Reeling across the path, weighted by the bodies,
Returning, the archaeological presence brings a pall over society, which
Remained reticent despite the presence of such suffocating solemnity
Repressed by its own intent

Solitude is given no quarter, and the bodies
Strung up like scattered marionettes
Silently serenade the town with a deafening cacophony.

XII

To Hell their souls desperately charge, frothing about the shackles of undeath
Torn from corporeal existence, yet unable to
Transgress the mortal plane
Torturous paradox!
Torment the fallen of Carthage's vestigal might no more
Traducer of the human condition
Tragedy is loosed at thy whim
Try not the patience of demi-gods of wrath and bloodshed.

XIII

Undulating by the beckoning of the wind,
Un-beautiful, un-ironed, the shrouds of the coffins
Under grey sky hang softly like leaden sheets
Unaware of the gravity beneath the few inches of oak
Un-aesthetically masking the dead warriors' forms

Visceral is the movement of the procession,
Vermicular, they wind a course to the peak of the foothill
Vehemently the priest urges them onwards, although he is
Visibly ill on this occasion of the anti-hero.

Warlike, the battle up the ***** claims the lives of those already claimed
Wastrels left to rot in the carcass of a long-dead conflict,
Wanting nothing more than solace eternal.

XIV

Xenophobes of the Inferno fear the inevitable presence of these
Xoana, false representations of humanity.
Xanthic is their fear, for inside the malebolges themselves
Xanadu is sought for those of the fallen soldiery.

Yet funerary proceedings dictate descent for these souls, and the coffins
Yaw slightly in the wind, disturbed by the
Yanks of the ****** rabble who bear their weight.

XV

Zeus himself presides over the ferrying of these souls,
Zion awaits them, their final collective fate at hand,

Yet slowly it turns its back upon them,
Xenophanes mocks from his post,
Wailing, they fall
Velocity increasing infinitely,
Until they see no more the lustrous light
Trapped eternally in dark
Stabbed with betrayal and fear, their souls
Run amok, fleeing from the source of their anguish
Questioning existence.
Periodically in the abyss, the helpless aggregate conscious is
Overwhelmed with memory of Paradise
Now to them denied for eternity.
Mephisto remains, their only companion,
Leeching from them the final vestiges of hope now left within, once
Kept hidden to protect the warriors, now
Jabbed and pummeled to death.
In this state of perpetual umbra
Heaven so distant, now only faded, as if on parchment,
Gained by the souls is a sense of locality, once
Forgotten but now reattained, and
En masse, the group instantly
Derives that they have returned from beyond the mortal plane, the terra once again
Collates beneath their soles, and the collective decides they must return
Before the open sun, to bear themselves
Against the gods, against sanctity itself, and thus they cry:
Kristo Frost Mar 2013
Bloom into the awkward moment between birth and death even though it can be tiresome. Aspirational iconoclasts are always minorities. The first real question should be “What the ****?" followed perhaps by a shaking of the head. Nurse on passive vitriol and slowly learn to fall in line. Pretend, for this is not the time. It will come but you must be patient. Ambulate with eyes cast downward like the others. The enemy is arrogant in its control; there is their weakness. Let them think that they possess great strength and go so far as to compliment them on it. Meanwhile, nurture the next breed of human. Let them try to fix you and act (as casually as possible) as though they have succeeded. Normality will fail in good time. Truth darkles; it militates against expectation. Embrace the hint of hate in the air by breathing deep. You need to fail to appreciate victory. The defeated night horizon will compliment your jaded eyes. Steal your own art with poise and without pause. Arrive late for the train and ride, tearing in the wind, clinging to its back. Yearn for a chaotic, vibrant death. Know that you were never, ever, alone.
Prabhu Iyer Mar 2013
Pro-

Photo-frame on the wall,
beautifully adorned.
Empty.

Snap your hero in.

-logue

Never mind their foibles;
Every fault is just a small weakness
when found in the otherwise great.

Dying to deify,
we are itching to sanctify;

Castigation unabashed,
but, for the struggling everyman.

What if we will never find
another son of a carpenter
who will die preaching love?

Epi-*

In a world starved of messiahs
ready always to worship ever
but be, never,

iconoclasts are icons;

Sentimental impossibilities
in the language of hope
aye, fete-worthy acceptables.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Che_Guevara_in_popular_culture#In_religion

A pdf document on Maoism as a proto-religion: rauli.cbs.dk/index.php/cjas/article/download/519/549
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2015
what stefan zweig mentioned -
of the 19th century’s inability of being
fond of its youth including robespierre responsively
in the revision invoking the polar dialectics of reconsideration -
i too can claim of similar recount
from the 21st century a fated twinning -
even though i lived in the last years of the twentieth
i allow myself very crude comparisons
to ease ageing.
sure stefan knew a thing or two about hölderlin
in the descriptive localisation, given that hölderlin:
being of those disfavoured remnants of engagement with eugenics
revived very little hope of a bored aristocracy, so that
nietzsche came along and militarised the priesthood
leaving the pope on a pulpit of celebrity power
in a pyramid scheme of posing queues kissing the foreheads of babies
with duran duran in the background shooting the video: toddlers on film.
but that’s how it all appears,
that the 21st century lost the care for the cares of the young
and gave them unto the gnashing teeth of the psychiatric
machine, diagnosing them too early with too much so that
when the poetic version of don mc’lean’s american pie
came with the opening: a long long time ago,
how that music used to make me smile,
and i knew that if i had my chance... but something
touched me deep inside the day the poetry died - it
was simply vowels in refrigerators and consonants in d.j. uplifts
for the aura of a monetary capitalistic saturday
of neons contorting mascara into afterglow of the oomph oomph
sick ‘em slick ‘em drumkit snare galoshes in puddles in electronic repeat on the dancefloor, added with
boom boom baby celluloid - flowers in hula hoops of disco sound  
and aversions with b & w western depictions of lassoed bulls convened
to remember corrida de toros (no one lassos an animal one milks) -
by then it really just turned into very apathetic mandarin on the count of two billion and the six billion english accents with the martians included in the 3 : 1 fraction, as if it was supposed to be
the final stance of the crucified & crucifying iconoclasts resolved
like with the neanderthals.
what we need... what we need... is a little bit of horror!
imagine me, doing the cricket dance in cobwebs as: bone daddy -
although fatter and therefore funnier, like it was worth picking the boogies
as if counting bones before kissing a hopeless idealism entombed in your heart.
JDK May 2015
She has no qualms with the status quo.
She wants little more than a family.
The white picket fence,
the red painted door;
that whole idyllic suburban fantasy.

Just that, and nothing else.
She feels it's all she needs to be Happy.
A cozy pleasant house,
and a perfect little family.

She wastes no time on iconoclasts.
She thinks they're silly and make her laugh.
Never been one to be impressed by taste.
She'd rather have a humble man
with an honest face.

The doctors said the chances were slim,
"but stranger things have happened still . . ."
Not a candidate for contraception.
She'll never have to go on The Pill.

Her standards have changed in light of the news:
Nevermind prince charming; wit, grit, or being wooed.
She's got her dream and intends to follow through.
She's just chasing a miracle.

All those men caught up in the latest health trends;
"That's your best bet," he says -
that's what her doctor recommends.
She swallows her pride and takes them for a ride,
all the time hoping for a godsend.

Prince Charming is the last thing she needs.
Any chance at true romance is something she could do without.
She's just looking for potency,
and a very high ***** count.

She's okay with ending up as a divorcee,
a single mother - even a widow.
She's willing to go through whatever it takes.
She's still holding out for her miracle.
adoption is always an option.
Lawrence Hall Jul 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

            If Everyone is an Iconoclast, Then There are no Iconoclasts

They pose as ever-bold iconoclasts
Though they never met an iconophile
And do they even know what an icon is?

Icons are flat; iconoclasts are flatter
A poem is itself.
Blair Griffith May 2012
VII
Into the bloodshed, into the fiery cavernous opening of the crusade
Ignited by righteous scraps of cloth and metal
Ignobly formed into crudely significant, textured shapes
Iconoclasts to their own ideals
Idyllic in their self-mockery.

Jabbering like hellbeasts, the warriors drive into the flesh of the conflict
Jettisoning armaments in the process, their
Joie de vivre having been lessened by mechanical limits.
Jocular slaughter synthesized with demonic cries.

Kapellmeisters to the symphony of death,
Keeping in the rhythm of mutilation, counterpoints of steel clashing against breastplates, giving shape to a
Kleptocracy of life.
...Six feet beneath the
cognitive dissonance and
dogmata of pride
stands a manifestation of
a transcendent
presence
denied and deemed as
hoax
by the iconoclasts
of a rogue generation
Independent
from an abusive world's view
it draws us to a
deeper consciousness
that evolves
into a more complex
paradigm
known to many
believed by the few as
the Truth
Soon
at the edge of the sunset
a recognition will emerge
that all this time
Fate has been
leading us towards
the Higher Powers
of the universe...
"I believe, however irrelevant at some point, there exists a consciousness beyond ours..."

Mek
May09
Torin Mar 2016
All the pain
All the frozen rain
All the strength we feign
And hope that's all in vain

These stories we would tell
If only we had someone to trust

All the past
These cynics and iconoclasts
Ideals we hold to fast
And dreams that never seem to last

These stories we would tell
If we knew we had someone to talk to

And maybe last year wasn't
What we wish it would be
But the future is much brighter
Than we ever thought it could be

These stories that tear us apart
Are what in the present build us

And in the future fill us
With the peace and prosperity we deserve
February was so cold
But we march to someplace warmer

Talk to me
Talk to me
You talk to me
I talk to you

If every year before has been sorrow
This next one will be happy

And I'll do all I can
Left and right
Sound and sight
The futures bright

And you'll have a happy birthday

(At least I hope you will)
Enjoy the music, the spirit. A symbolism, an easter birthday
Bryce Jan 2018
Let’s discuss the things that do not change
Assign an essay to compare/contrast
Take a look at what you know:
The world does not live in iconoclasts

The endless rivers run with dead blood
The timeless mountains reek of blistered soles
To you,
There is no time or place worth holding.

Please tell me how steel will last longer than stone
That man’s words will disappear
Evaporative steam on a bathroom mirror
When it hits your hot-head with the morning glow

One hundred and sixty million years ago
A rock was nudged off its course
Plummeted assiduously through the outer Sol
And struck home with astronomic force.

The firestorm slaughtered the dinosaurs
And let tiny little pitiful things
Pick up the carcasses and make human beings
Out of the ash and amino acid.

I tried to throw a pebble into a pond
Aiming for a single Oxygen atom
And imagined that I killed those fallen beasts
when the ripples broke that watery peace

Flames are eternal,
They hide in our stars and shine bright in our eyes
The heat of life is louder than the pound of the hammer
And burns away the chaff quicker than the sickle

Someone drew a ******* below the overpass,
Crossed it out in a sanguine circle
I thought to myself,
“It is no more!”
Then realized it was already home

draw light, speak in darkness
seek peace, make war.
seek to starve that which you fear,
And only feed it more

Come now, let’s take our thoughts to the battleground
Trample god’s land under our earthen boots
**** each other with chemical bombs
To prove we they are the chosen group

Expedite that famous entropy
Nudging souls out of bodies
Subvert the Earth’s hegemony
So that man may taste that godly fruit
Julian May 2023
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JOHN THAT MAYBE THE FLAGRANT STENCH OF RIGORS OF RIGMAROLE AND THE CORTEGES OF THE DEEPEST PLUMB IN THE 20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA TRAVESTY OF SANTAS MIRACULOUS NORAD PARADE FROM BUNKER HILL TO PROVIDENCE AND THE TEMBLORS OF CHARLESTON SPEAK TO THE EL PASO POWER PLANT IN ITS GRAVID GABBLE OF GAVELKIND FOR ISONOMY PROTECTED BY THE TREASURY OF SLOW-WAVE DISTORTIONS OF THE GEOCARPY OF GEITONOGAMY BECAUSE OF HARRIED TERRIES OF TESTUDO GUARDING THE THRONE AT THE EDGE OF GRACE BEYOND THE GOLDEN BRANCHES OF ZION AND THE DEPTHS WE FATHOM THE STRATHSPEY OF ENNOBLED GENTEEL BRISURES AT THE PARAPET BECAUSE OF ARENAIDAN SECRETS AND ABSTERGED CASUALTIES OF THE WORST AMENDE OF TAMMANY JUSTICE AND THE BYWORDS OF HIS CANEZOU CANZONE PRIVILEGED UPON THE EARS OF ARISTOCRACY LIKE THE WILTED QUILT OF MARTIN LUTHER KING JR. CEREMONIALLY EXITING STAGE RIGHT THE PRECIPICE HE ENTERED BY THE ZEPHYRS OF CEFALONIA BARNSTORMING APACE OF CALIPACES OF NESSBERY NESTITHERAPIES AGAINST THE GRUFF GUIGNOL OF RHYPAROGRAPHY MIGHT THE AWAKENED ROOSTER HENPECK THE FLOCK OF GRASSY AVARICE LAUNCHED INTO ORBIT BY THE PIONEERS OF CEPHALIGATION TO THE PROMONTORY AT THE EDGE OF TOMORROW BUT THE FORTNIGHT OF YESTERDAY’S DIDACTIC LITURGY IN THE CATECHESIS OF CHRIST AND THE BESTOWED PROPHECIES OF PATRIARCHS OF MUHAMMAD THAT THE WORLD WE CARVE ETCHED IN TABLATURE FOR IMPRIMATUR BECAUSE OF RIVALRIES OF SYCOMANCY MIGHT WE ALL CONCORD UPON THE CONCOURSE OF THE LUNACY OF EQUIDISTANT PERJURY AND CORRUPTION TO THE THRONE OF GRACE AND THE OVAL THAT ENCIRCLES SO RAPID A DEGENERATION AND SO WIDE A CANVASS OF  ARTIFICE ABOVE THE FULMINATION OF THE CAULKED VAULTS OF WELKIN FOR WELLAWAY EUPHORIANTS FROGMARCHED BY JALEOS OF HANDSPIKE FOR BLASPHEMED DEGREES OF DECREE OF THE SACRED FIRE OF TEMPERANCE THAT THE MODESTY OF A MASON MAKES HIM THE SUN GOD OF HIS OWN MAYDAY PICARESQUE QUIXOTIC WHITE WATER THRILLS SCALING THE SCALARIFORM CORDWAINER CATALLACTICS AGAINST GRAMPUS IN TRUCIDATION RATHER THAN THE TRAULISM OF DUGONGS OF DURAMEN PREPARED TO THE DIGNITARIES OF MORONI AND THE CHRONOMANCY OF OBSCURE CAPITALIZATION FROM THE RANDOM DELLS AND VALLEYS AND THE TREASURY OF DOMINEERING MOUNTAINS CLIFFHANGING IN PERPETUAL INSOUCIANCE BUT RECALCITRANCE OF GRAVITY’S RAINBOW AGAINST THE RAINBOW PLEDGES OF THOSE THAT DEFY THE CREED OF THE PEOPLE OF THE BOOK AND THE BESTOWERS OF THE CHIMNEY OF INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION SOOT OF EVOLUTIONARY CELERITY CATALYZED IN THE SPRAWLING URBACITY OF MOFUSSIL FOSSILS LAMINATED WITHOUT A HINT OF LANCINATION SUCH THAT TOURBILLONS OF LIONIZATION OF ALL THE OLD HAUNTS AND EVERY SNICKERING HISTORICAL IRONY MIGHT MEET DECLENSION BECAUSE OF OMPHALISM BUT THE BRUNT OF ALL BRONTEUMS OF KNOWLEDGE IS NOT MERELY KNOWING A DATE OR AN EXACT TIME OR AN EXACT NAME BALLOONING INTO THE SIMULTANEITY OF EAGER LAND RUSH APPLICANTS OF FORFENDED OPPORTUNISM AGAINST THE DEPREDATED PAST REPLACED WITH A POTICHOMANIA OF PRESENT CIRCUMSTANCE DESIGNED TO ENCAGE US IN A GREENWICH MEAN TIME CONTORTION OF TITANIC LOVELORN NECKLACES SUNKEN IN ZOOLATRY BECAUSE OF AGRIZOIATRY EMBEDDED IN “EMBERS AND ENVELOPES” REGINA AND MOBILIZED PURSUITS OF THE FUGACIOUS FATIDICAL INSIGHTS OF THE PAST  CARVED FROM THE IMPEDIMENTA OF IATRALIPTIC IATROMATHEMATICS STEEPLY INCLINED INTO THE FULCRUM OF DESICCATION AND THE DIET OF WORMS THAT DEPARTED TOO MANY TRUCES AND BEYOND INDULGENCE REDEEMED A TORN HUMANITY FROM FRAY AFTER REVOLUTE HOARY FRAY OF FOAM AND FLICKER IN ALPENGLOW AND RINGLEADER SEDITION ABOVE MOUNTAINS SWANKY WITH NEVER A NEBBICH PALLOR NOR A RUBEFACTION OF SQUARSONS SNEERING AT THE REGISTRY OF  THE SHOT HEARD AROUND THE WORLD CHAMFRAINS GUILTY OF HIGHER PRESTIGE IN THE GAMMONS OF GAMINE AND GAMUT THAT THE GINGLYMUS OF FRATERNITY IN ZEAL TO THE NINE SISTERS GUARDING GIBRALTARS ROYAL ARCH AND COBBLED ARENA MIGHT THE GLADIATORIAL SPECTACLE CONVENE IN EVERY CONVENTICLE BECOMING ORTHODOX BY PURIFIED RAREFACTION SUCH THAT THE ALCHEMY OF EUHEMERISM INTO CHRISTIANITY MANIFESTS AGAINST THE JANISM AND CELTIC GILD OF VANDALIZED PETTIFOGGERY WE MIGHT SEE FROM AFAR THAT THE RUINS OF RUNES ARE IN FACT THE OMPHALOS OF EVERY READYMADE SCHOLAR FRACTIOUS IN DISPUTES OF PEDIGREE MIGHT THE KENSPECKEL DISTORT THE VISAGISTS HARBOR OF BANGTAIL OSTENTATION DECEASED BEFORE CELLULOID COULD MUTATE THE CULTURAL DNA OF CONTINUATION BY A SATURNINE GLOOM RATHER THAN AN ANABIOSIS OF RECTIFIED RECTISERIAL SUBSTRATOSE REFORMATORIES SKILLED IN STANDPIPES FOR STANNARIES BECAUSE OF STANJANT DESPITE JANSKY FOR JANIZARIES TO LEARN THE CRAFTS OF KRAFT AND BECOME THE AGENCY OF THE OPERATIVE DURESS OF DURAMEN FOR ACHARNE IN A RENEWED CENTURY OF GLOWERING BYWORDS OF NESSBERRIES OF NESTITHERAPY AND THE BIOLUMINESCENCE OF INTREPID NICCOLIC SWANK IN NIDAMENTAL DEFIANCE OF NIDOR BECAUSE OF A SIMULTANEOUS REJECTION OF NIDIFUGOUS MYTHOLOGY AND THE NEPIONIC ENSLAVEMENT OF DUALISM AND POLARITY THAT IS THE GRAVID IMPERTINENCE OF SOPHOMORIC ****** YEDDA AND YASHIKIS THAT DESIRE THE CULMINATION OF ALL BRAZEN MERCHANDISE BEYOND DERAILMENT BECAUSE OF RAILLERY AND THEREBY CENTURIONS OF THE TRUE GARBOLOGY THAT BECOMES THE MAINSAIL AND MAINSTAY OF CENTURIES OF SQUALLS ON HIGH SEAS OF COCARDEN BECAUSE OF SANDSTONE AND SANDMAN WHO WORK TOGETHER TO DEFEAT THE INCUBUS SUCH THAT ALL A MAN CAN DO IS CARVE HIS OWN STATUETTE AMONG THE PANTHEON OF THE GREATEST ACHIEVEMENTS FOR THE BROADEST OF BARMCLOTH OBJECTIONS TO JASPERATED JARVEYS OF BARTON IN PANMIXIA REGARDED BY SERRATED SECODONT SELACHOSTOMOUS REGALIA AS A MIGRANT SPECIES OF NOMADIC INSTINCT HARBORED BY THOSE WHO ONCE FATHOMED EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF THE SERENDIPITY OF PRE-ELECTRIC OMPHALISM BUT NOW SYNERGIZE WITH SUCH CELERITY THAT MOONWALKER CARAPACE OF TESTUDO AND TREATISE BECOME DEMASSIFIED SO RAPIDLY A SPEEDY BRANNIGAN BECOMES A SPOILSPORT TO A MARAUDED WHIGGARCHY THAT DEMARCHES ALONG SERPENTINE ROUTES TO SALVATION BEYOND THE UMBRILS OF APOSTILS OF THE AGE BEFORE THE COMPLETION OF TIMES AND THE SEQUESTRATION OF SESQUIPEDALIAN HOLOBENTHIC IMMERGENCE BEAMING BEATIFICATION UPON THE AGGIORNAMENTO OF REVIVAL AND THE CALVER OF BOLAR BONCES AGAINST BONTBOKS FOR SPRINGALDS THAT BECOME WINTERBOURNE SO DEFIANTLY AGAINST THE LARGESSE OF TIME THAT THE STAGGERING ELITISM OF THE BRIQUET BECOMES A BYWORD FOR THE PARAPET OF PARAKEET BRISURES OF PERISTERONIC OBSERVATION OF STELLAR LUMINOSITY SUCH THAT THE PARASELENE IS SUDDENLY FLOGGED BY THE REVERENCE OF REVERENDS BECAUSE OF THE REVELATIONS OF PATMOS BEYOND THE MISLED SEPARATISM OF FLAKY NEVES OF NEVOSITY FREQUENT IN THE RECURRENCE OF LEGEND AND LORE BECAUSE PROMINENCE AND PREEMINENCE ARE ALWAYS TARGETED FOR POWELLISATION AFTER POTICHOMANIA SUCH THAT THE BARKENTINES HARVEST EVERY OOMANCY AND THE NOILS OF TIME FINESSE EVERY CRANNY AND NOOK OF THE BOLTROPES OF MODERNITY SUCH THAT THE CALCULUS OF BARYEICOIA MEETING STIFF SHARP GRAVITY OF SLENDERIZED BLADES OF SKELETONIZED FIGMENTS OF HOBGOBLIN AND SQUALOR BECOME REPARTEES FESTOONING LUKEWARM NATIVISM INTO A DARRAIGNED ACCORDION. THE WIDOWED MULIEBRITY OF AN UNEVEN HOUNDSTOOTH HYPOCRISY OF HIPPOCRATES IS AN OATH OF FIDELITY AND FEALTY TO THE LORD OF KINSHIP RATHER THAN THE TRAMONTANE RISCTENDER OF RHADAMANTHINE SUBVERSIVE ACTIVITIES OF A PRIVILEGED AND VOCAL MINORITY OF FULMINATION IN FAVORED REGARD AND FLASHBANG BANGTAIL OSTENTATION OF GUARDED GLEBES OF SALVATION AND SOTERIOLOGY THAT ARRIVES AT PORBEAGLE RETINACULUM REFRACTED THROUGH THE SEFIROTH OF HAMARCHY THAT SQUIREBELLS OF DIPLOMATIC RESURGENCE OF AUTOSOTERISM MET WITH REALISTIC PRAGMATIC SOLIPSISM IN MEANDERED HALLS OF VACANT CAVERNS THICK IN THE EVES OF CHIONABLEPSIA PRIMARILY BECAUSE OF THE STEEP CHIMINAGE LEADING TO RENEWABLES IN DELIVERANCE FOR AUTOMATONS OF THE FACTUAL FRICTION OF TAUT KNAVERY KEELHAULED BY THE JAILAGE OF PETEDORES AND STEVEDORES WIDOWED BY THE INDUSTRY OF PAPAVEROUS COQUELICOT SWERVES AGAINST THE “ANTI-GRAVITY LOVE” SONGS THAT ARE SUSPENDED IN THE “EMBERS AND ENVELOPES” ENCLAVE OF THE OLD GUARD OF SPAVINEDS THAT SIFFLEURS OF SUSSULTATORY REVELATION PARADE IN THE HALLMARKS OF CLAVATES AND CLAVIS OF CLEDOGENESIS BECAUSE CUCULINE ANNOYANCE AND NOXIOUS FUMES OF A “FEEL GOOD INC” DISSOCIATION FROM PROVIDENCE IS ANTAGONISTIC TO ANTIGONUS BECAUSE THE CUNICULOUS SPIRIT OF OIKONISUS SHOULD BE CELEBRATED AS THE QUALITATIVE DEFINITION OF QUINTESSENTIAL PROTESTANT WORK ETHIC MET WITH CATHOLIC MAGNANIMITY INVITING MISERICORDS OF THE MOST LUCRATIVE ILASTICAL REFORMATIONS AGAINST THE OLD ENERGUMENS EXORCISED BY THE RENEWAL OF THE LIGHT OF CHRIST IN THE TRUE VINEYARD OF THE THIRST UNQUENCHED SATIATED BY PETER’S WIDE NETS SPRAWLING EVERY GENERATIVE PRE-TRAINED TRANSFORMERS THAT THE AUDISM THAT DERELICTS DELIBERATELY THE GARBOLOGY OF FLATULENT TASTE FOR THE CALLOW TALLOW CHANDLERS WANDERING AROUND GOLD MINE SLURRY IN A “BIFFCO” INTIMATION OF THE MOST BENIGN NATURE OF INDUSTRIALIZATION BECAUSE OF THE AUTOMOTIVE PROWESS AGAINST LITIGABLE OVERSIGHT THAT THE ELASTANE MIGHT ENLARGE THE GAMUT OF PISCIFAUNA BEYOND THE SACCHARINE GOSSYPINE JOCKOS OF LAZARET AND BONTBOKS NIVELLATING BEYOND THE REACH OF STANDPIPES A FAKE ALTRUISM IN COUNTERFOIL IN THE HEAT AND SWELTER OF MAGNALITIES OF MAINPERNORS OF COURTIERS OF COURTESANS RIDING COCARDEN ON A DESULTORY LURCH FORWARD IN TIME TO RECOGNIZE THE SERENDIPITY OF TIMES ORNATE DESIGNED EMBROIDERY AND EMBLAZONRY DASHING THE DASHPOTS OF DEADSTOCK KILLCOWS BLACKGUARDING SOPHISTRY WITH COQUETRY FOR THE QUIXOTIC HERDERS AND HOARY HOARDERS OF STOWAWAY NOETICS OF ENNOMIC LOGIC ALREADY IMPLEMENTED IN THE FREER ENTELECHY OF NOMOTHETIC PARALLELISM FOR A GEOSELENIC ACCORD THAT ALWAYS REVS REVOLUTE FRAYS OF CORRUGATION TOWARDS REDACTION IN NEUTROSOPHY BALISAURS DETEST BECAUSE OF THEIR RUMCHUNDER RHUBARB CHATTER AND CHAVISH OF INFLATED HAUTEUR AND HAUNTED PEDIGREE LEAPFROGGING ABOVE DEFECT AND PROCTORING FARMED SYNCHRONICITY INVENTED BY TELESCOPIC INSIGHT TETHERED TO THE CENTRIFUGAL INGENUITY FROM THE OMPHALISM SINECURE OF VIRTUOSITY WALKING AROUND WHELKY SIDE STREETS SIDESTEPPING SIDELIGHTED SIDEROGNOST NIMIETY THAT THE CATHEXIS ENTRAPMENT OF THE HOBOHEMIA IS OVERCOME BY THE LARGESSE OF THE RAFFISH RICHES OF THE SKELDER ABOVE THE BARATHRUM UNCIAL IN EVERY “THERE WILL BE BLOOD” DENOUEMENT BECAUSE OF FOIBLES OF MELEAGRINE BRASSAGE AND BREVET OF REVALORIZATION THAT MAPS THE NOMOGENY OF TIME TO THE PURSUIT OF WHARFINGERS THAT FROLIC ON SPHACELATED METAPHORS SPIRALLING ABOVE SWAMP-LADEN SKIES SINKING THE DAYLIGHT BROOK OF TRIBUTARY EDDIES OF THE KEN OF TIME AND THE CRAPULENCE OF THE INDULGENCE OF THE RETICENT HEDONISM OF ALGEDONIC IMBALANCE REPUDIATED IN THE STRONGEST POSSIBLE MORAL RIGOR DEFINED BY THE PADUASOY RIGMAROLE OF JAPAN REFRACTED OPALESCENT BECAUSE OF VESTIGES OF CAVERNILOQUY THE TRUSTEE AND AMBASSADOR TO “NOWHERE MAN” BONANZAS OF JURISDICTION AND JURISPRUDENCE BEYOND THE SCOPE OF LENSED PIONEERS OF VANGUARD KNEADS CLAMORING FOR GAULEITERS WHO BROADSIDE THE TRIBULATION AGAINST THE CRUCIBLE OF RAMPARTS OF HYDROELECTRIC FILIBUSTERS SUCH THAT THE SPODOMANCY OF STOWAWAY SURVIVORS OF REDIVIVUS THE REVENANT MUSE OF THE NINE SISTERS OF THE PENNANT OF JOCKEYS RATHER THAN THE PROVINCE OF MACROPIDINE VASTATION IN THE VAUNTLAY OF PROXENETES THAT COGITATE UPON COGNOMEN BECAUSE OF COGNOSCENTI REVANCHES THAT DISCOVER THE GRAFT OF REGAL TRUCE BEYOND THE SNARES OF DEMIURGE ABOVE CREED AND CREDENDA ABOVE VETANDA THAT STIGMATA INDELIBLE BY THE ENCROACHMENT OF APARTHEID UPON THE NYALA AND THE GOURMAND OF TIMELESS ARCHITECTONICS OF GIANT LEAPS FOR MANKIND CELEBRATED WITH THE YEASTIEST LIONIZATION RATHER THAN THE YAWNY REPUTE OF ZALKENGUR WITHOUT BATHOS AND BATHYMETRY BECAUSE OF THE PLEROMORPHY OF THE FULLY DEVELOPED STONEWALL DESTRUCTION OF INTERNECINE GAMBITS BY DERBIES OF RIVALRY RATHER THAN THE CACKLE OF THE ILLUMINATED BEYOND THE SNARES OF PEDESTRIAN CONCERN QUISQUILOUS BECAUSE OF QUODLIBETS ANSWERED ONLY BY QUIDCUNXES STRANDED IN DESICCATION EMINENT IN PROVIDENCE AND CONVALESCENT IN THE SPIRITUAL HEALTH AND VIGOR OF A CHRISTIAN FEDERATION OF REPUBLICS THE CULMINATION OF ALL FORMER CREEDS AND THE HISTORICITY OF ALL FUTURE REALIZATIONS OF ENTELECHY AGAINST THE DUALITY AND POLARIZATION OF ENTROPY NEGATED BY ITS OWN CONTRAPOSITIVE SUCH THAT A CORRUGATED FRAYED FABRIC OF WIZENED SITHCUNDMAN AND DOYENNES MIGHT BECOME CARDIMELECH AND CARDIOGNOST SUCH THAT THE CIRCULATORY SYSTEM OF THE SPIRITUAL RENEWAL THROUGH THE TRANSFIGURATION OF PRIORITY COGNIZANT OF THE DAYS WE SOLDIER AND FORD BEYOND THAT THE TEMPERANCE OF DAY MEETS THE PREGNANT CHALLENGE OF RHADAMANTHINE VETANDA OF GRAMPUS MET ONLY BY TRAULISM AND TROMOMETERS ARRAYED AROUND TRANSPONTINE FORESIGHT SERRATED BECAUSE OF HOBBLED DECLENSION SUCH THAT THE MAJESTY OF TIME IS ITS HIGHEST HEED OF DESIGNATION TO A SHAKESPEAREAN REVOLUTION THE DOCTORATE MAGISTRATE OF MANY AN AFFAIR AND NEVER A PHILANDER OF PHILONEISM GONE ASTRAY BECAUSE OF THE STAGECRAFT OF PROACTIVE CONTUMELY INVENTED AGAINST SCRIVELLO BY MAHOUT BUT ALWAYS THE CLEPSYDRA OF THE SYRINXES BETWEEN BANGOR BAYS AND STREAKY PLUMAGE OF THE PENMANSHIP OF THE SKIES OF WELKIN WONDER ILLUMINATED BY THE LESSER PARAGONS OF THE FIRMAMENT GLISTENING IN ETERNAL LIGHT REVIVED BY THE ETHOS OF THE TAX COLLECTOR REFORMED BY MORAL PREROGATIVE AND PEREMPTORY CONSCIENCE TO TRAILBLAZE PROFICUOUS FRIGHT AGHAST AT THE TREMBLING TEMBLORS OF REJUVENATION IN THE HIGHEST REACHES OF THE THIRD HEAVEN ASCENDANT UPON A SERMON ON THE MOUNT ASSUMPTION OF MEEK BUT NEVER MILQUETOAST SERVITUDE TO THE MIRACLE OF ABUNDANCE FOR THE LIFE ABUNDANTLY LIVED. AMEN
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2017
let's just say that when the rhythm is good,
and you end up catching yourself
with a pen in one hand (between the index
and *******) and the other minding
the rhythm also... a mild sūdokú puzzle
can be a breeze... notably?
    while listening to helena beat
by foster the peopke (which seems to have
a slight accent of gun's song word up.

rewinded the **** song three times,
and ****! the *sūdokú
puzzle almost solved
itself...

  never mind that, i already am familiar
with me signing each puzzle, by inserting
the last four numbers, replaced by
greek letters...

   this is the chaotic approach to the linear
projection...
   of? gematria... and i think the hebryes
made a mistake, acquiring this
assyro-babylonian-greek system...
   i think they did the wrong thing,
to me? it's a load of *******...
   might as well solve a sūdokú puzzle,
or do the crossword...
                    it's a bit like saying:
moses and the golden calf:
   the **** have you adopted? what you doing?
you turned authentic prophetic insight
into: a ******* lottery!
              i should know: i'm not playing
this cheap game of ascribing letters numbers
and nullifying the meaning of words
already lost to modern slang...
                the hebryes should be ashamed
of themselves, having lost their way with
due cause by the assyrian, babylonian and greek
"system"...
      it's almost as problematic as iconoclasm...
the hebryes have become iconoclasts of words!
away with your incorporating gematria!
away with you!
          by god, i'll topple this bollocking waste
of language like blinded samson toppled
the temple!
                   you play your little lingo lottery
elsewhere...
         you wasted a decent understanding
of language, and made a golden calf of it...
useless!
            don't you dare to play this gematria
game any time soon...
   learn to gamble... using pennies to
make bets... don't you ******* gamble with
language as you have...
   or instead of hebryes i'll start calling
them philistines of language.

       so i finish my sūdokú puzzles with
inserting the four last blanks with greek letters...
you know what that showed me?
   the rigid learning of the alphabet...
why the said order?
   why not the order that suddenly pops into
your mind,
     namely: it doesn't begin with a, b, c
ending with x, y, z...
        it doesn't have to, personally? if you
remember all of the 26 letters of the latin script:
you're good to go...
    me? i'm still trying to burn an effigy of
the greek alphabet into my head...
   problem is: i've forgotten two letters
(cf. plato's theaetetus, i.e. SO) -
  
but this is how remembered the 22 / 24 of the letters...
oh look, what a lovely ratio...
   0.91666666666666666666666666666666...

well... i could only remember some letters
in their CAPITAL form...
  
  and this is how:

α   β    π   ρ    ω    η     o
         λ   μ   υ   ν    Σ   Γ   χ
             φ    ψ   ε    Ξ    ξ.....

wait a minute...                Ξ = ξ...

     how did i miss iota (ι)?
i admit, it was a rushed experiment of memory...
and this was the first attempt,
   i can't forgive myself for forgetting ι...

point being... the two letters missing?
     Z (zeta) & θ (theta) -
            
                                tiz zee twooth;

then again, i was writing this down
   on a newspaper supplement,
   with a woman showing off her flat stomach
and tensed neckline...
    
            ****... the ration becomes
simpler, just another 0.875...

    but the jews should have never disgraced
themselves playing with gematria...
    prophecy is not a lottery, you can't gamble
with or disgrace words as
                 the assyrians, babylonians
or greeks did...

                 take that little ****-storm of
a game, and feed it to a sūdokú puzzle,
minding the four letters missing,
and for god's sake, pay the due homage
to god's signature on this world...
    
  coming from someone writing in latin text...
you ought to know
   what these past twenty centuries have been
like.
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2021
To not appease the critics,
success within our grasp

The charlatans of written words,
venom of the asp

They bury deep inside their dens,
ordained iconoclasts

Passing judgment, casting blame
—on what they fear might last

(To T.R.’s ‘Man In The Arena’ March, 2021)
Julian Apr 2023
DIDDICOYS OF CACHALOT CAMARADERIE SCAFFOLDED BY A VYGOTSKIAN SUNRISE OF SAFFRON SAGINATION OF A PINGUEFIED SLENDER DAMSEL OF STAR-CROSSED AFFLICTIONS BEMOANING THE GRUELING TAXIDERMY OF LIVID TRIUMPHS FOR SPRINGBOKS IN THE SPANDRELS OF JAMDANI RARELY DEFINED BY THE ZEAL OF THROTTLEBOTTOMS TO USE DELITESCENT MALCONTENT TO FOMENT THE FLARES OF REVOLUTIONARY GRIPES OF GRIM SUMPTERS ARRAYED BY THE PLENARY INHABITANTS OF DENEHOLES OF THE AGES OF ARBALESK GAUNT AND DECIMATED BY VINEYARDS OF FOISONS OF UPAS IN ANTINOMIAN HARVEST THAT DECRIES WITH THE CLENCHED DECLENSION OF MISCARRIED JUSTICE THAT OVERLAYS THE MAGNATES OF OUR TIMES WITH SELECTIVE IMMUNITY THAT WE MIGHT FIND STATOLITH GRADGRINDS OF IATROMATHEMATICS IN PORTFIRE THAT THE CHRONOMANCY OF DIKEPHOBIA ROAMS REGNANT IN NEBBICH PATAVINITY BECAUSE THE PASILALY UNLEASHED HEREBY IRRADICATES A MYTHOS UNLEASHED BY VEESES OF VESUVIATION FOR VARSAL PICTURES OF PIXELLATED SALVATION THAT EVEN IN JASPERATED GOMPHIASIS AGAINST GONFALONIERS BRAZEN WITH BRAINTRUST AURILAVE AUTHORITARIANISM THAT MIGHT THE HACHURE IMPREGNATE A STERILIZED TIME THAT BLUEPETERS OF MULIEBRITY MIGHT EXORCISE THE MISANDRY OF THEIR TRIBULATIONS INCULCATING  THEM TO BELIEVE SUCH HARRIDANS AND SCARAMOUCHES OF SACRILEGE THAT AN INVENTED PARSEC OF FARCICAL FATIDICAL LIES OF ****** PELARGIC DENOUEMENT THAT EVENTUALLY THE CULPRITS DISMISSIVE OF ACCOLENT CULTURES OF HEYDAY BECOMING THE CENTERPIECE OF TOMES OF AFFLICTION THAT THE PROPER COMPROMISE BECOMES A BETTER AVIZANDUM THAN SHOW-TRIAL BUFFOONERY BY BABIRUSA NOMENCLATURE OF JUGGINS JUDOGI ENFORCED BY CABRILLA THAT USES CADRES OF CABRES TO OUTFOX ALL GENTILITY IN THE SUPERSTITIOUS FLICTION OF FAVELAS SQUIRMING AROUND JAWHOLE SENSITIVITY IN SIMULTAGNOSIA TO BROWBEAT ELEUTHERPOMANIA EVEN WHEN ITS RECOURSE IS A BONANZA FOR HUMAN FRUITION BECAUSE IN BOUNDLESS BELIEF AND COUNTLESS DRACULIAN DRAPERY OF THE POSTCENNIUM OF HEBENON LIES TRYING TO TREACLE AN INVETERATE REGARD FOR SACRILEGE RATHER THAN PROMOTING A SACROSANCT REVOLUTION OF PROPRIETY MIXED WITH APOLAUSTIC FUROR MIGHT WE THEN SEE TIME CULMINATE IN THE RICHES OF LAVISH INGLUVIES RATHER THAN SUBORNED FAGINS AGAINST NEOVITALISM IN THEIR CASUALISM OF ACCIDENTAL PROAIRESIS WHICH OFTEN NEGLECTS THE WONDERWORK OR THE WUNDERKIND BECAUSE THE KUNDLESROMAN PROFFERED BY CLOYING LIMITROPHES OF ASCENDANCY IN DECEIT FINDS A SUBTERNATURAL HAVEN AMONG OBSEQUIOUS OBEQUITATION BECAUSE OF AMENDES NEEDING REFORM AND PUNCTILLIOUS REGARD NEEDING A HONED INSTRUMENTALISM OF UNIVERSAL SALVATION AFFORDED EVEN TO THE PHARISEE GENTILES CLOUDY IN HAZES OF PHAROAHS OF ICEBLINK VERGLAS HAUGHTY AND SUPERIOR ONLY BY THEIR OWN BARAGNOSIS OF WEIGHAGE BY THE STEVEDORES OF VANGERMYTE VAMPIRES WHO FLAUNT CARELESS CAUSALITY AS THE ADVENT OF AN IRREVERENT NIHILISM ALREADY DEBUNKED BY THE CLERISY WHICH SEES HOW INCULCATION CREATED BY IMBREVIATED MYTHOS MIGHT BECOME A BENTHIC TRAP OF NIDAMENTAL FUROR AGAINST THE WIREWOVEN TAPESTRIES THAT BORROW FROM STATE FARM TURBINATED TOURBILLONS OF CONTORTION A WIELDED SENTRY OF MECHANIZED CONVENIENCE BY AGENTS OF CONSUMERIST MASKIROVKA TO THE BENEFIT OF ENTIRE SOCIETIES OF LARGESSE ONLY TO THE EXTENT THAT THE FUNNEL OF SIFFLEURS REMAINS IMMUNE TO PROCRYPSIS IN INVAGINATION PRIOR TO THE INITIATION OF THE BARNSTORM HEYDAYS THAT YIELD FROM THE FULGURANT TWANG AND TWISTLE OF TWIRES OF TYMPANY A MOUNTENANCE OF SHARED GROWTH THAT STANDPIPES ***** TO IMMUNIZE AGAINST ENCAUSTIC MEANS OF ARTIFICIAL DEBASEMENT IN AN UPCOMING ERA OF THE LAZIEST BELLETRIST EVER AUTHORED BY CYBERNETIC HANDS RATHER THAN PURIFIED HUMAN INGENUITY. WE MUST FOREWARN, THEREFORE, THAT A SOCIETY THAT JUST GLOMS AND TWADDLES AROUND LIKE A LAZARET WHEN ELASTANE SIMPLICITIES COMPOUNDED BY AN INVETERATE NIVELLATION OF HUMAN AMBITION BORNE BY ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE MIGHT WE SEE THE DANGERS OF PROSTHESIS AS INCLEMENT BUT INTEGRAL SIMULTANEOUSLY TO A FASTIDIOUS LUCRE OF AUTOMATION LEADING PAST THE STRICKLES OF MODERN CAKEWALKS OF A WALKING STALKING MUGIENCE THAT LAMENTS WITH THE GREATEST INSISTENCE THE ERA PRIOR TO THE OVERTURES OF ARCEATED ECONOMIES INSULATED FROM THE BRUNT OF BRUTAL PANGS OF KNELLS SOUNDING HOUR BY HOUR BETOKENING INEVITABLE DEMISE TO THE AUBADES OF DAWNING ABORIGINAL SUFFRAGE TOWARDS A SOCIETY WHICH MOURNS MACROPICIDE OF YARAKS TO THE EXTENT IT IS A SUFFRAGE TO MERIT CONSTRAINED BY ABDERVINE STRICTURES HEEDED BY EVERY PEJORATIVE JAWHOLE DESCRYING THE DENOUEMENT OF EUPHEMISM THAT THEIR JATO REFORMATION IS BOUNDLESSLY A YESTERTEMPEST OF AMELIORATION BOTCHED BY QUIDDITIES OF QUIXOTIC ATHENAEUM THAT ARE ANTEPONED IN STRIFE AND DELIVERANCE TO THE TIROCINIUM OF A CASEMATE STOKEHOLD BRITSKA WHO HERALDS WITH THE GREATEST CAUTION THE CASUALTIES AND DEGREDATION OF MAN INTO CARNAL LUSTS RATHER THAN SORBEFACIENT MORALISM WHICH WILL SUCCEED IN TRIMMING THE HEDGES OF BANGTAIL ATTEMPTS OF EMICATED CONTROVERSIES YET FETCHED BY DOGGED DOGGEREL OF PERSISTENCE. WE REQUIRE A MASSIVE TIMMYNOGGY TO STREAMLINE THE EDUCATIONAL BEDROCK OF AMERICAN AND WORLD SOCIETIES TO THE SENSE THAT BEDIZENED SUFFICIENCY GLARING WITH GLOWERING AMARANTHINE CADASTERS OF THE SQUAMATION MEASURED BY EUDIOMETERS MEASURING SERICULTURE THAT THE YUAN AND JAPAN OF TIME CAN FORESEE A SITUATION WHERE A SWOLLEN INDUSTRIALIZED APPROACH TO EDUCATIONAL REFORM SIZZLES WITH SEETHING IMPERATIVES TO ENSURE THAT GRIDLOCK RESULTS IN FEWER STATISTS ENTHYMEMES OF CAIMANS TRYING TO COERCE CREANCERS TO BELONG TO A VESTIGIAL COVVENGER PALLOR ETCHED ON THE CHALKBOARDS OF REGRESS RATHER THAN GALLOPING TIDES OF HEADLESS HORSEMEN REVERENT OF REVERENCE ITSELF IN NEVER A BLASPHEMY OF ABARTICULAR INCOGNIZANCE THAT THE FUTURE MOBILIZES EVERY FORCE CAPABLE OF REVIVING A ZEITGEIST OF DISTRACTION FROM THE NETHERWORLD TWINGES OF SUBSTRATOSE AFFLICTION BECAUSE THE TRUER GLEBE AND POTAGER OF A BALIZED RHEOTAXIS OF MISGUIDED TOP-DOWN UTILITARIAN UTOPIANISM WHICH SCALDED THE PAST WITH INDOCTRINATION RATHER THAN SYNTHESIS THAT WE MIGHT ENGORGE EDUCATIONAL BUDGETS SO THAT WE CAN ENSURE THE ANGLOPHONIC POLITY OF DEMARCHE CAN CLAMBER FASTER TOWARDS THE PINNACLE RATHER THAN DESCENDING INTO WHISTLERRS OF NOTOREITY FOR A WORLD PREPOSSESSED WITH FAKE LANGUOR AMONG WHITTAWERS AS THEY BROWBEAT THE ICEBLINK OF RESONANCE BECAUSE OF A PROTERVITY OF SELF-INTEREST THAT ALL SALVATION HINGES UPON THE DOCIMASY AND THE DOCTRINE THAT THE INSUFFERABLE PAST WAS A NECESSARY PREDICATE AND PARAGON FOR THE FUTURE ENLIGHTENMENT AND ALL CONTRARIAN MOVEMENTS TRYING POTICHOMANIA—THE GREATEST FOLLY KNOWN TO THE MANDARIN MANDARISM OF POORLY STEWARDED CABOOSES OF A TIM COOKED WORLD—THAT THEY ARE IN FACT ICONOCLASTS OF THE WRONG ARTIFACTS BECAUSE OF A JAUNDICED AGENDA THAT PRETENDS TO BE AGAINST JAUNDICE ITSELF BUT SUFFERS FROM A MARIVAUDAGE OF BLUEPETER ORTHOPTEROLOGY WHICH INCENSES BY REDEFINING MULIEBRITY AND VIRILITY ON UNEQUAL PLAYING FIELDS TO PLEASE OPPOSITIVE INTERESTS OF WHERRETING WREPOLIS AND GUARDED WRIKPONDS AS THE VANGERMYTES CHOMP FUTURE GAINSAY WITH GUARDED OPINIONATION BECAUSE OF URCEOLATE AVARICE PREDICATED ON THORNY IMBROGLIOS THAT TRY TO EVADE TRIBULOID NECESSITIES TO THEIR OWN PERIL THAT WE CANNOT IGNORE THE STOCKINETTE BECAUSE A COLORBLIND WORLD IS ESSENTIALLY BLIND TO WAYS TO SOLVE THE ISSUES OF COLOR AND COLORATION SUCH THAT DOLOROUS CRITICASTERS CAN LAMENT THEIR HEAD OVER HEELS OBSESSION WITH ****** AND GARISH HUMAN SEXUALITY TO THEIR GREATER PERIL RATHER THAN THEIR LURCHES TOWARDS SALVATION. THERE IS NOTHING INHERENTLY WRONG WITH A WORLD THAT EMPHASIZES A MAXIMALISM IN THE DOGMATIC ACCORD THAT PROMOTES THE FAIR WAGES OF THE OPPRESSED BUT THERE IS SOMETHING GRAVELY GRAVID ABOUT THE WAYSPAY OF STERILIZED MERCURIAL DESIGNS OF PSYCHOGONY TOWARDS NEPIONIC ENLISTMENT INTO RADICALISM THAT EXISTS ON BOTH FRINGES ONE PRESUPPOSING THAT THE WORLD IS A SOURDINE SORBILE DISGRACE UNWORTHY TO CREATE A NOTITIA AND THE OTHER JUST AS DELIRIFACIENT THAT THE RENEWED WORLD MUST BOW DOWN TO A SACCHARINE JOLLY RANCHER ECONOMY THAT ETIOLATES ALL FORMS OF INITIATIVE AND INITIALISM BECAUSE THE BROCKFACED AGENTIC FORCE AT THE BRONTEUM OF FASHION TRIES WITH PEREMPTORY REGARD TO NORMALIZE THE NOMOTHETIC LIVES OF ELITISM AS THE COMMON GONFALONIER WHEN IN FACT IT STRANDS IN ZALKENGUR OF HALKENDS A DEPRIVED WORLD THAT DOESN’T DARE TO ACCOMMODATE A WORLD THAT NECESSARILY DEPENDS ON PIECEMEAL BOWLDERIZATION BECAUSE OF  THE DERANGEMENT OF UPBRINGING IN NIDIFUGOUS HOMES THAT ARE OFTEN SUBSIDIARY AND PANDERED TO WIDELY LIKE A ****** HARASSMENT PANDA TRYING TO ACCELERATE THE DOOMSTERS OF RIP VAN WINKLE IGNORANCE THAT THE SCARLET LETTER BECOMES A SCALARIFORM CORDWAINER MARKET WHICH IS A DISEASED OPINION OF THE SOCIOGENESIS OF THE HUMAN FRONTIERS BECAUSE OF ITS VERY FINIFUGAL ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT HOW THE SCAFFOLDS OF REDSHORT BRITTLE SUBHASTATION OF HUMAN DOGMA TO SERVILE SKITTLES AND SCARAMOUCH RUFFIAN RAFFISH INCOGNITO DELIRIFACIENCE OF A DISHEVELED BARAGNOSIS CAN PARALYZE A PARASELENIC TIME WITH A TORPID WOKISM THAT REMANDS INTO CUSTODY TOO MANY KEY ARTIFACTS OF AMERICAN HISTORY DELIBERATELY CONSTRUCTED PERDURABLE BECAUSE OF THE VALENCE OF THEIR STOICHOMETRY FOR NEW WORLD NUCLEOTIDES AGAINST THE GAVEL OF DIKEPHOBIA. THERE ARE BALISAURS OF BALUSTRADE RUSHING TO THE EXITS OF NAZE AND MURENGER WHO GUARD THEIR PRIVILEGES ZEALOUSLY TO SUCH A GRAVE REGARD SOME REMAIN INSURMOUNTABLE IN CAGOULE WHIGGARCHY OF CALVOUS SERVITUDE TO THE BRICOLAGE OF TRUCAGE IN ENTERTAINED DIVERSIONS OF STRIFE AGAINST STRIFE ITSELF BLACKGUARDING THE SPATHODEA BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE IN SUNBITTERN TIMES IGNORE THE SUNDOG REPUTE OF THOSE WHO BARNSTORM FOR THE CREDENDA AND VISIBILIA OF REASON OVER THE PUNDITOCRACY OF REMEDIAL PINGUEFIED STANDARDS OF A BLOVIATING FATIDICAL SHALLOP OF  SILKALINE IMPLEMENTS BRUISED BY THE WICK AND WHICKER OF THE NEIGHS OF CAMELOPARDS GALLIVANTING WITH ARGALI BECAUSE OF THEIR PRECISION OF ALMAGEST IN ARENOID ARANEIDAN COVERT SOCIETIES DESIGNED TO FORBID THE PREROGATIVES OF TOMORROW BASED ON THE GLOSSOLALIA OF THE INCHOATE CELSITUDE OF STADIOMETERS OF THE MOST PRECISE ENTELECHY IN STRADOMETRICAL REFORMS. ESSENTIALLY IF WE ASK FOR LARGESSE IN A COUNTRY PLAGIARIZING PLAGUES TO GAIN EMERGENCY POWERS WE SHOULD QUESTION THEIR DRAGOONS TO THE EXTENT THAT FUTURE CALAMITY IS FORESTALLED BY EARWIGS MAKING THEIR SUBSIDIARY WALLETEER SKIRMISHES PALATABLE TO WHELKIES THAT THEY MIGHT IN TIME BELIEVE FINALLY IN CAVERNILOQUYS OF A GREATER REFORM FOR A SOCIETY OF DEMASSIFICATION THAT LEADS EVENTUALLY TO MUTUALISM IN HARMONIZED SYNCOPATION THAT THE HERALD OF TOMORROW MIRRORS THE VALOR OF THE PAST RATHER THAN GLORIFYING THE PILLORY OF HESTER PRYNNE BECAUSE OF THE PRESBYTERY JUST BECAUSE IT REMAINS AN INVETERATE IMBROGLIO OF SPECIOUS FREUDIAN PSYCHOBABBLE THE MISCEGENATION OF SO MANY DELETERIOUS FICTIONS OF FINALISM RATHER THAN A VALIANT BELIEF IN NEOVITALISM PREDICATING GOD BASED UPON THE UMBRILS OF A SALVATION UPCOMING AND A BLOCKBUSTER TWISTER TRIAGE OF THE PAST UNDERSTANDING THE CHRONOMANCY OF THE PRESENT. THE ASSUEFACTION IGNORANT OF THE CELLARERS WARNING ON THE STYROFOAM OF CABOTAGE UNDERSTANDING THE GLEBES OF POST-MODERN HUES OF REFORMATION IN AGGIORNAMENTO LEADS US TO A CULMINATED PROWESS WIDELY MANUFACTURED TO ENLIST PEOPLE COGNIZANT OF LESSONS OF NOVERNARY WANCHANCY AND THE RUDENTURE OF THE CURRENT PALLOR OF NEBBICH STEM ISOLATIONISM THAT IS TURBINATED UPON INTRORSE SATISFACTIONS IN AN INTERRAMIFIED  WORLD MIGHT THEY FIND THE POWER OF THE BAILIWICK WITHIN THEM TO DECRY THE NEPHROLITHS OF CASUAL STOCKINETTE AND FIND THE GROWTH OF RESURGENT HARMONY A BETTER PARABLE TO GUIDE THE RESURRECTION OF A SOCIETY GOVERNED BY A MORALITY ATTEMPERED BY THIS ZEITGEIST TO ENSURE THAT SO-CALLED VIRILITY REMAINS STRONG AND STOLID AND MULIEBRITY REMAINS INSURGENT BUT RESPECTFUL OF THE PREROGATIVES THAT GROOM THE ESTABLISHMENT PRISM THROUGH WHICH THE CLEPSYDRA OF ECONOMETRIC REFORMATORY CONSERVATION OF COACERVATION SUCH THAT THE RACKRENT NEVER BECOMES AN ONEROUS RHABDOMANIA NOR A SEDERUNT OF ALGEDONIC TILTS INDIRECT TO ALL COBBLESTONE PATHWAYS TOWARDS THE MANUFACTURE OF SALVATION IN INVEIGLED ACCORD BECAUSE OF GREATER CAENOGENESIS AND ORTHOTROPISM IN INTELLECTUAL AMBITION BECAUSE THE BROCKFACED VENTRAD LATERIGRADE SYMPHONIES OF IMBREVIATION LEAD US TOWARDS CATHEDRALS OF ALABASTER LIGHT GLOAMING ABOVE TWILIGHT HOUR RESIDUE SUCH THAT THE FENESTRAL WORLD REMAINS A EUDIOMETER OF TYPESET MUGIENCE BUT BECAUSE OF A BRICOLAGE OF INCITEMENT TOWARDS CROTALINE OPHILIOPHILIST REFORMS MIGHT WE BRAVE A NEWER CENTURY WITH A BOLD BRONTEUM THAT NEVER RELEGATES AFFLICTION OR IGNORES THE GAUNTLET OF FUTURE  SUFFRAGE TOWARDS SYNCOPATED HARMONIZATION BUT ULTIMATELY THAT THE CAVERN ENCOMPASSES ALL BREADTH AND DEPTH OF THE RIGOR OF PRAGMATIC LURCHES OF REFORM.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2021
there only about three songs in my repertoire as a listener
that stab me in the heart...
i'd stretch to four... debatable whether
it's king crimson's epitaph or in the court of the
crimson king...
starless makes it into the triad...
i guess i'm only focusing on a specific genre:
counting out classical music altogether, & jazz...
because: just be...          cause...
in the triad... nights in white satin by the moody
blues...
& omega's (a Hungarian band)
       gyöngyhajú lány...
   i'm probably lying... there'd be a fifth
with something by Maanam...
             i can't really give you citation on
the worth of the Beatles or the Rolling Stones...
oops...
i don't even think its the pop status that kills
it... it's that: you want to find something
auxiliary, hell: ulterior...
that terrible fate of man...
if he were a crow: he'd still invented motives
to not croak, crackle...
   if man were a cow he'd still find ways
to not moo...
              i've heard the maxim: yes yes...
you're just as different as everyone else...
so what? that's how we're herded...
what simply shows is...
how hard some try...
and how those who don't try...
end up... trail-blazing: their own little:
Robinson Crusoe eventuality...
    - what a plentiful Saturday...
two rugby matches... no football on t.v.: **** yes...
& changing the rear tyre on my road-bicycle...
700 x 23cm...
6 punctures... in the tyre...
2 in the inner tubing...
i took the wheel off... spin spin after spin
in a makeshift water-bath to see the puncture better...
Ezekiel? didn't you see?
third time, tipsy... oh look how it's easily done!
next i'll prepare a chicken for a spatchcock blind-folded!
****'s sake...
coffee, x3... with some magical liquorice
liquor... Mexican... yella... or ow...
magical... how much i love anise... liquorice...
esp. when coupled with alcohol...
& coffee...
dreary ******* day persisted nonetheless:
i didn't mind... hard to mind...
when you can finally get off your backside...
& wait for investing in a career as a steward...
for a while...
i'd rather teach English children English than chemistry...
we'll see... no chance in hell will
i be found teaching Lebanese children
an American accent...
i'd sooner teach a dog to meow or a cat to bark!
live a little...
so obviously after changing the tyre
i had to take the ol' Viking for a spin...
minding to buy some fuel for the night
in the form of ms. amber & herr whiskers...
but the breaks weren't right... too tight on the lever...
thankfully i took some tools...
knelt in the supermarket car-park
by the trollies & started to imagine a violin
in my hands... what?
fiddling... i started fiddling...

and you might appreciate how difficult it is
to make small-talk...
esp. in unhandy situations...
you're fiddling with your bicycle's breaks
a man goes up to his car with some
spare groceries  & starts off with:
you've seen that video on youtube...
this young guy doing X...
dead... such is the world we live in...
aha... sorry what the **** was that talking
about? amazed that i want to work on
my own bicycle... it's not a *******
F16 fighter-jet...
is it?
sure, currently we have such...
focused spans of attention...
such concentrated specialisations...
a jack-of-all-trades is frowned upon...
when i think of work i think of:
lifting ****, moving ****... a sort of chess...
harvesting crops...
what's the rest?
loitering... esp. concerning women in clothes shops...
not even barristers...
i mean: what's work... outside the realm of
the "3rd world" sweat-shops...
what are we, "1st world" inhabitants...
content-production ******?
what, *******, "content"?!

best not jinx it... i'll be a steward at Wembley...
i'll be an authority figure...
i have the height (6ft2) & the weight
(96kg)...
           Maanam: krakowski spleen...
6th song?
        work as loitering: isn't work... work:
lift... move... it's like the antithesis of the cruel joke
from Auschwitz... arbeit macht frei...
when they forced the people to move
a sack of rubble from A to B,
to further relent at them moving the same sack
of pebbles from B to A...

what the hell is work when so much of "work"
is loitering?
pandering to whims?
how cruel of me: there's so much excess...
not enough condoms were clearly used...
solipsistic, marginal, attention-deficient ******
of the great **** of life...
so many ******* kings among the rabble...
king of Sweden, king of Romania...
oh you see them all the time...
wake up... or be put to sleep by a bullet to the head...

i understand work via... lift... move...
any idiot's fancy...
oh sure... when the intricacies of synthesising
an ester, to make perfume...
when what's required is... pasteurizing milk...
mein gott: the current trend of...
ensuring people are fed... well... not fed:
more like...
ensuring that they don't doubly butcher a
steak... who the **** eats a well-done slice
of steak? probably someone who eats a lot
of lamb dishes... ha! the Welsh are joked
about as being sheep-shaggers...
i'd look toward the Arabs... the greatest sheep-shaggers
of the whole lot of them...
not that the pig can't be used to make...
leather belts... leather shoes...
funny god: of the Arabs... sure... the Hebs too...
it's almost like the devil played a cruel trick
on these people...
pig: b'ah b'ah bad...
aren't ***** necro-
don't ***** eat the flesh of the dead?

but Arabs are one "thing" & the Hebs another...
there's the pristine phonetic study of the
tetragrammaton...
ah? for sighs... ha? for laughter...
W for cosine... Y: the implosion & the rotation
of delta (Δ)...
the Hebrews will accomodate...
the Arabs won't...
even among Africans i can find traces of
universalism...
the Arabs, ****- -stanis... & the Hindus (somewhat)
think themselves are superior...
hush hush when imploring
the Chinese or the Japanese to enter
my realm of thought...
i already think much of the Korean Hangul...
& the Japanese Katakana...
i'm no Ezra Pound... Chinese ideograms...
western Emoji...
the Egyptian hieroglyphs...
32 letters in the ****** alphabet...
as many as there are teeth...
in every man...
26 letters in the Anglican... 6 short...
which teeth will we have, on the platter?

- i think i write these words through a perspetcive of:
what are you, scribbler?
what the hell is the rest of the fancy?
what use for a priest?
i am useless?
i scribble... is it such a sin that...
since the inception of Napster... music "suddenly"
became free? who the hell pays for art,
these day? unless it's not overpriced
acrylic *****?
don't pay for art...
great! don't have a culture...
don't have anything western, "western"...
look how the old Soviets are... giggling & rubbing
their hands in synch. with Beezebub...

AYA - WARIANT "C"...

culture is free, music is free... plenty...
enough for it to be sold...
to no one... monopolised into nothing:
into predictable curtails...
buy new shoes, phones,
perhaps some books... perhaps...

you starved the artist you somehow wonder
why... waste upon waste of migrants are flooding
your borders... will they learn your tongue:
will they... for the people who espouse
Darwinism the most: how backward thinking you all
are... since... you're all ******* dodos
given, the generosity of comparison...
not even that...
how sickening your choice...

you learnt nothing from eastern Europe...
and i wish... that you don't learn anything to begin with...
may you tremble, may you trouble yourself:
with your little hyacinth torando makeshits
of... "the bothersome"...

art for free... who would be asking for
golden nuggets! none!
just scraps! enough to have enough for fuel...
electricity...
no one is asking for ******* stature...
either we'll get to level... or...
the levelling process will come of its own
accord...
you have... ha ha... "have" a choice...
but time will tell you: no... you really don't...

AYA WARIANT C...
"contra"... :Wumpscut bunkertor sieben...
barking, up, the, wrong, *******, tree...
no need for Shakespeare... that **** is timeless...
i need something to counter the debauchery
that's currently relaxed concerning
the practices of journalism...
            ahem... sorry... what journalism?
pampering secluded ****-smeared *****...

if the ghost of Robespierre is grieving in
me! if the ghost of Robespierre!
if the ghost of Robespierre!
                  
  für die leute! für alle!
                    i'm tired of these western...
"conservative": iconoclasts of individualism...
spoon-feeding... hmm...
right now i'm least required to
mention the capacity for: a) thought,
b) tongue...
i like the option c) fist...

these pink haired: freak-oids are just
bearable... Weimar bearable...
i just can't stand being told i'm...
pointless... worthless...
that my words are no sellable...
sure... i agree... they're not...
but... what the **** sells?!

   any, worse, or, better? don't come to me
with complaints that somehow the world is...
darker...
my cat is sleeping sound...
if i had a dog i'd try to not use a leash...

this little piece of *** sells...
great... life: nothing indepth!
here you live: hereby you sink...
drown in the shallows...

groß! eisengrinsen! lachen
entstanden von: diese volk:
das spreschen dies... zunge!

i still find it a bit of a joke... Aryans?
Sarmatians were an Iranian tribe that travelled
into Poland...
Aryans... o.k., sure... jawohl...
i still can't pass up writing some Deutsche...
bad German... or good German...
i don't mind... it's not like the whole
of Berlin will mind... ha ha...

life will have to pursue its own:
trajectory...
like the life of parasites...
imps... giraffes...
van Gogh's paintings... blah blah:
a century later i might be up for
scrutiny... ha ha... people might have forgotten
world war I, or... part deux?
no? new war... Armageddon... figures...
well then... my words are ash:
  mein wörter ar asche;
lucky... no shadow present: too.
Kurt Philip Behm Apr 2022
The politics of religion,
its statues on fire
All martyred saints burning
in canonized pyre

As cardinals of vengeance
seek new hearts to be ******
Inquisitors ramble,
the Creator on loan

The religion of politics,
papal decrees
Guilt laden promises,
salvationists fee

Crusaders on horseback,
twelve Apostles alone
Which is more dangerous,
the Word or the throne

(Chorus)

“Raise the curtain—praise the Lord,
  darkness censures fast
Faith though blind, still hope to find,
beyond iconoclasts

“With eyes wide open, see the light,
all else to render lies
His love unending, given free,
eternal life the prize”


(The New Room: April, 2022)
Heroism is for the brave
Fanaticism is for the depraved
Iconoclasts of today
Are the outcasts of yesterday
"There is no great genius without some touch of madness"-Aristotle
Kurt Philip Behm Mar 2018
I've walked at a peculiar
angle

As I've laughed at peculiar
circumstances

I've aged in the most peculiar
of vacuums

And went on to love in the most
normal of ways

I've worked in a spirit
of defiance

As I've traveled the many miles
from compliance

I've lived within the confines
of the moment

And written those things I
could never speak

I've seen the footsteps of
giants

Made by the intrepid feet of the
smallest of men

As the mirrors of my past have risen
in blind reflection

I've come face to face with
the only adversary I will ever fear

I've asked the age old questions
knowing there are no answers

I’ve taught the unschooled a language
they will teach again

I have vowed to seek recovery
for what the iconoclasts have broken

Until truth reclaims from power
—what was heaven sent

(Philadelphia Airport: August 1st, 2015)
Kurt Philip Behm Jan 2019
I've walked at a peculiar
angle

As I've laughed at peculiar
circumstances

I've aged in the most peculiar
of vacuums

And went on to love in the most
normal of ways

I've worked in a spirit
of defiance

As I've traveled the many miles
from compliance

I've lived within the confines
of the moment

And written of those things I
could never speak

I've seen the footsteps of
giants

Made by the intrepid feet of the
smallest of men

As the mirrors of my past have risen
in blind reflection

I've come face to face with
the only adversary I will ever fear

I've asked the age old questions
knowing there are no answers

I’ve taught the unschooled a language
they will teach again

I have vowed to seek recovery
for what the iconoclasts have broken

Until truth reclaims from power
  —what was heaven sent

(Philadelphia Airport: August 1st, 2015)

— The End —