l'amours dont sui espris...

  me and the moon cower,
me and the moon peer into the night,
from behind the cloud
from behind a puzzling thought...
me and the moon cower:
before the altar of the night...

well... i would never **** a fly...
at least i'd try...
the kingdom of insects states:
by some "consensus"
that the females are bigger
than the males...
i've heard it's not so with
mosquitos...

i couldn't **** a fly...
but when Monday's garbage collection
happens and i'm left dragging
an empty bin
into the garden to clean it...
i find... maggots at the bottom
of the pit...
still wriggling in the leftover juices
of meat and others...

carelessly like jerking off:
i pour some bleach into the cauldron...
sodium hypochlorite...
then some water for the foam...
the maggots disappear...
i wish them well...
but not much good could ever come
from drinking a corrosive salt...
alkaline implies corrosive salt...
well... i drowned some maggots in
alkaline...
but i very much care to have
a clean bin...

i ******* crocodiles and tears and tadpoles
into a tissue while
on the throne of thrones and send
them to: nowhere...
just before i take the no. 1 & no. 2
(no. 3 to ease up)...
then baptise myself in the shower...

summer will soon be almost over...
autumn will come
the proper fruits will start to fall...
i'll be making my wine...
it will take me 3 weeks or circa...
maybe 4... the apples will fall...
the pears too...
winter... when insects sleep...
as much as i might appreciate the copper-neck
suntan... i'll be happier to find that
the insects are sleeping: along with
the bears...

i rarely **** a fly... a mosquito, though?
each and every time...
if i were a zombie and a fly *******
a maggot-load onto me... i'd beg to digger...
well...
    i did't feel like killing this large
specimen of mosquito... it wasn't going to
bite me...
never mind...
i didn't feel like merely killing it...
i caught it be one leg...

i have two spider twins either side
of the door to my garden...
one was sleeping...
the other was awake...
how did i know?
the sleeping one curled up its legs
into a bud...
it wasn't awake to play piano with
its cobweb...

        so i pinched this one mosquito
by the leg and watched it frenzied...
trying to escape... my hand led it to the altar...
how quick the spider! how quick
the spider made a mummy of the would:
juiced up mushy meat!
i didn't **** it...
i just fed a garden spider...
a catch it couldn't otherwise catch...

i felt indifferent... more indifferent about
vegans than vegans feel: "differentiated"
from debating the need for milk...
eggs... never mind the meat... cheese...
i don't understand veganism on these three pillars...
milk (cream)... eggs... cheese...
i couldn't be a vegan...

vegetarianism: i can understand...
but... no eggs?! no... milk / cream?!
no... cheese?!
        get out of 'ere!

       maggots swimming in sodium hypochlorite...
or rather... dying in it...
but the prettier sight than killing a bothersome mosquito
was feeding it to a spider...
it almost felt like...
   feeding a cat sushi turkey ******* on
the end of the knife...

this song has nothing to do with the experience:
chevalier, mult estes guariz...
none!
why do i abhor Darwinism...
it... doesn't tease my vanity...
it just kills off history!
from ape to "somehow": now...
that's it!
   **** similis: the ape was known to the ancients...
but the ancients did ancient "things"
and didn't allow themselves to be swallowed
up by a ******* comparison!
metaphor! they would have settled for
a metaphor... but not a comparison!
a synonymous-ness!

Darwinism is right: nature abhors vacuums...
nothing in nature is to be ever wasted...
everything has a purpose...
if... somehow... it doesn't have a purpose:
it will... it will evolve... it will adapt...
but... Darwinism as... the prime idea...
the one & only source of the genesis of
"idea"? only in the anglophone world...
no where else will you hear
Darwinism so celebrated...
Hermes asked... why did Galileo overshadow
the findings of Copernicus?!
why did even William Burroughs undermine
Copernicus by staging a "fact" that...
oh the ancient Egyptians knew!
the ancient Greeks knew too!
but... no mathematics...
then some pope-****-smear of a Galileo
was the one with the telescope
"probing": proving the heliocentric model
most adequate...

one spider whispered to another:
find any cobweb: piano concertos in the desert?
no... me neither...
let's just wait for some of these sand-*******...
camel-jockeys to catch up...
we'll show them... mummification:
hey presto!

- and they did... how quickly that spider
launched into the mosquito...
rapping it up like a... nothing to be
beside the futures of food-stuff...
it felt...
well... not ignoble... a pride in a sense
of hierarchy...
the spider easts the mosquito...
it's really levelled ground in the insect
dominion...
i allow maggots to swim in sodium
hypochlorite...
i catch a mosquito by its leg
and feed it to a spider...
the spider does the mummification
ritual... the world balances itself out...

it's a strange sensation: it's hardly a feeling...
one gets feelings on a graveyard...
count the bones...
wake up... re-wake...
the fickle faculty of memory:
so prone to amnesia...
i abhor dreams.... therefore i dream none...
less Freudian ******* shrapnel....
less & less...

i need a mirror to take a selfie...
i need... the apparition of 3D space...
you can't revise QWERTY!
you can't improve it!

i can type without looking down
at the keyboard: here's to imitating the Liszt...
the Chopin...

eh?!
i didn't cite:  E... did i?
i included the surd of breath...
EH?!

ask the ******* Hebrews why we have concern
to begin to laugh...:
it's trapped in their definite article:
HA! SANTA!

           i'm here for only one thing...
beside thrilling it alive in Thailand...
or... recovering fractures in Europe...
someone... maybe one... or two...
have... stolen my identity...
                  sorry...
             garlic pickled in some red wine
will always go under the radar...
electric six's album should never have:
gat bar! bay bar!

   it's the 1980s and sade...
smooth operator....
             best kept feeling...
feeding a mosquito to a spider
rather than simply killing it...
like... the inversed... imploded...
ploy of game...

who needs tiger blood?
bluff?
i need... a mosquito...
a spider... a spiderweb... like a piano...
i need an awake spider...
the red wine is not to be...
necessarily... mixed with garlic...
although last time i heard:
infusing ren wine with three or four
teeth of garlic (nuggets?)
is a slimming elixir...

father SLiM? *******... yacht...
bogus crew...
feeding a mosquito to a spider...
death soon arrives... "tomorrow".

- still need the geocentric model when
reading the map... hell:
i need the flat earth perspective when
reading a map... i don't really care much
for the equator, the Greenwich meridian
when getting from A to B...
funny how geographic "algebra" works...
from point A to point B:
a round earth doesn't really help...
perhaps if i were sailing but even then...
a straight line...

Darwinism didn't really undermine
man's final vanity... according to Freud...
nor did Freud undermine another vanity...
Freud & Jung created the divided schematic
of what once man:
i wouldn't say man was Leibniz's pristine
monad: something indivisible...
but it was close: to be divided by memory
fickle faculty:
how it dries up through the churn of
pedagogy... so much strain on learning
2 x 2 = 4... a, b, c, d, e... f, g, h...
fair enough: to later rearrange into words...
but i don't appreciate the classical alphabet...
the genius behind QWERTY...
i type without looking down at the keyboard...
it's almost like: imitation of reading braille...

maybe the alphabet should be less: a, b, c...
it's not like the vowels are at the beginning
while the consonants follow...
it just doesn't make sense:
rigid...
i wonder what would happen if children
were taught the QWERTY alphabet sequence...

or... just remember all the letters:
it doesn't matter in which order you remember them...
just remember that there are 26 letters in the English
alphabet...

- it's so pointless just killing  mosquito...
a fly... hardly...
but a mosquito... just at the right time
when it inserts its needle and become a syringe...
that's the sweetest of moment...
lord of the flies? who is the lord of mosquitos:
didn't ha-shem eat up all the lesser
gods of the Levant... but somehow avoided
gobbling up the lord of mosquitos?
i'm conjuring up a deity the Hebrew deity
didn't gobble up into his pantheon...

what name... what name?!
to challenge a name like... Beelzebub?
Be'el'zee'bub...
proper pronunciation with
the apostrophes: intra-verbum...
just so you know...
who: hoo! i'm getting hot from all the cider
and whiskey... god... i'm gagging for
some absinthe... the moon is ripe!
it's full...
     i need some slimming elixir...
some red wine infused with garlic...
to keep the vampires away...

what will i name you: lord of mosquitos...
KOMAR... mosquito in western Slavic...
Darwinism doesn't bug my vanity...
i.e. it doesn't bother me...
it bothers me that it's a history eraser...
nothing from yesterday here on in...
in the anglosphere...
the monkey: mammon key "happened":
an oops! ****! hey presto!
deluxe! no one grieves for Robespierre...
i might...
like i might for the wild imaginings of
the Marquis...
               if only... i prefer prostitutes to these...
"free"... masculine prototypes of... ahem... "women"...
once the woe... once the woo of man...
now?!
i prefer prostitutes...
no need for dating: plus... if they're Turkish...
they like a beard... a hairy chest... a hairy
stomach...

i'll push this dagger into that crux of:
et tu... so far so far as it can be harnessed
collectively that i'm... passionate about...
not angry... bitter... pickling my emotions...
there's a gherkin for a heart if anyone is
willing...

lord of mosquitos: raba'albaeud...
well, i could make that apostrophe disappear...
but i'd only replace it with a diacritical marker
above the A... to imply: "a.a."...
i.e. that there are two... Siamese vowels...
but it wouldn't help the pronunciation...
let's see...

raba'albaeud vs. rabālbaeud...
            eh?          ha ha... "no" difference!
so much for everyone being... "literate"...
they read like they might eat...
i've been told i eat in a way that...
invites other people to eat...
so much for others... dictating pleasures
unattainable...
i was a dinner once... with school friends...
i was the only one who asked for
rare beef... everyone else...
doubly butchered their wants...
they wanted them well done...
beef? well done?!
oh i'm a snob at that...
IT'S NOT MINCED BEEF!
YOU NEED... JUICE!

i kept my mouth shut and ate happy...
so much for friends...
i.e. "friends"... people you spend a lot of time together:
it works in a pedagogic environment...
school's great...
you are ***** into their presence...
you have to have... work-around tactics...
bullies... brutes... nerds... teenage mothers...

the full moon: while everything is attired in:
quicksilver...
the full moon: skin-head BISCUIT...
while everything is attired in quicksilver!

too many vowels... too many vowels...
raba'albaeud...
i "think" i'll rename him...
phonetically, though: ra'ba'alba'ood...
although there's an E & an U instead
of the omega...

Lithuanian: U'ODAS: ooh... not you...
i need bitter... twice bitter than an IPA
Czech absinthe...
i need to see straight... wonky too!
i need my tongue to be aflame!
i need teeth made from iron!

- history has become less linear than it used
to be... it has begot an ouroboros
of repeated... thanks to journalism:
history used to be linear...
time has reached a year 0...
but there's no revision taking place...
don't shoot the messenger!
i'm looking for the name of the lord
of mosquitos...

it's a hard name to conjure:
even though you have all the tongues in the world
available on the palette...
i need bitter... Czech absinthe...
i want to feel: hot... as rot...

Latvian: not Estonian... i.e.:
not sääsk (saaaask):               ODU...
主 / オモ (omo-odu)... that's clearly pushing it...
       オヅ
it would be so much simpler to just **** a mosquito
rather than... purposively...
feeding it to a spider...
i would "feel" much better killing it...
than having fed it to the spider...

Napoleon might have added:
sure... they're literate... but literacy only arrives
as useful when the literate are bilingual...
what use do i have for these people
distract by letters...
what use for the priestly class...
since... their safeguard is... "missing"?

sweet amber... whether beer: gods' juices...
or simply... mead...
from the work around of Hephaestus....
safeguard these names of the gods...
before they disappear...
before the Czech absinthe becomes too
bitter... still drinkable... but hardly enjoyed...

"too many vowels"... the "argument" follows
suite... i'm red... hot... chilly-esque...
chasing zeppelins... chasing diacritic markers...
covert: how you might say:
SPIERDALAJ: DALAI LAMA....
  ARES... his son...
                  Hephaestus....

             while i'm burning!

                         pronoun verb
custard: ich arbeit...
all the nouns the world might allow...

butterfass...
                   i'm itching to pass by:
butterfaß.... consonants ought to have...
better... phonetic encoding symbols...
like TH and PH have to encapsulate F...

who needs buTTer when one Tao might
have... MITE vs. miGHT?!
two consonants coupled...
not another night in Posen...
please... not another night in Posen...

chasing
i don't want to be English so much....
too many troubles...
too many fictions...
i want to be inherently "biased"...
too many frictions...
  too many fictions...
chasing  Zeppelin....
     ditto: base... the Warsaw "boat":
about to... sink.

I felt the totality of nothing
and it provoked utter elation
as all that was born of sensation
was inversed to none, nothing, one.

It feels nothing beneath or above,
Neither beside of me, no way
left nor right nor wrong.

As aeons unfelt
allowed anesthesia
to grip me, held wight
by its dissociative thrall.

I have braved the depths
of eternity, delved into spaceless
infinity, submerged in its chaotic bliss.

I dared to immerse myself in it.
Low and behold, the M-hole.

The water is clear
Unlike my mind.
It's murky, foggy, and
as my hand touches the surface,
It ripples.
Breaking the perfection
And I sigh as my face
reflected back to me
How I wish I could be lovely
Like the setting sun
Or the endless oceans
And I feel my face plunge
Forward into the water.
Struggling to breath underwater
The liquid fills my nostrils
And I've drowned
Like Narcissus
But out of self loathing
Rather than unconditional
self-admiration

This gentle flow takes control with perfect form, dark eyes match and connect in the same breath.
Warmth spreads from head to your *******, lower realms swirl in the depths. Skin glistening.
Bubble up, subtle touch, fingers search inversed.
Would rather tingle your thighs in line with my neck, criss crossed in ****** to snap.
Head tilted back, quiver and spasm as your chasm erupts.
Hushed sighs in a rush collect.
Congruent thoughts mix in our heads, mind *** fulfilled through this text.
Open your legs as your soft lips kiss with delicate sweat, thinking in sync when you stroke the same sense.
All from the chest.

Stop the Brexit Messi

That is the problem
with exclamation marks
when they are inversed.

As he held me in his warm loving embrace
He so feathery soft and ever so gently let his fingers trace
The new ink mark that use to be a branded scar on my face

He looked bewildered "what is this how did it become tattooed"
I spoke softly still weak "I do not know, I'm confused"
The evil pulsing throughout making my insides feel bruised

"My darling Witch where did the brand go"
I was to scared to tell him where the evil now flowed
I didn't want to tell him it was now inside that thorough my skin it had sunk below

I am beginning to realize what really was the curse
It was going against all I had ever felt it was inversed
And this stirring of evil was so unlike my compassion, it was so much worse

I was starting to see that with more good deeds
The branded evil symbols sunk below and off my soul it feeds
Will his love pull me through will it be all I need

We rested but for a little while, knowing that the Dark Lord was on his way
On this mountainside we could not stay
There was to many tunnels and caves, I could tell from the sun the day was starting to decay

I mounted our skittish dark ride
I sat in front the the knight behind
The rib from the white dragon we tried to hide

The knight had fashioned it into a sharp sword
So it could pierce any armor any flesh, for it was pure evil we where racing toward
I had seen in a vision it was going to be a great wicked horde

I prayed to the God Itus for protection, what we where facing was immense
Even under me the demons horse it's muscles tense
The look in the knight's eye's was extremely intense

I had to ask why that particular dragon he said "because she is the sister to the dragon of the moon
LEANA slayed the demons in ones sleep, her bones the light consumes
And to the suns light the Dark Lord was not immune"

I looked at him puzzled "but the sun does not shine at night"
He replied "yes dear Witch it does, the moon has no light of it's own it reflects the sun's light
And once stuck in the evil one he can not pull it out, and the bone collects the rays and against it the dark can't fight"

We was now almost off the mountain, we where headed to the flat land
That is where I'm afraid will be our final stand

In the distance we can see a village, black smoke was bellowing like flames where being fanned
We headed towards it a stop unwanted, unplanned

Eyes shut glancing into eternity
Monastically still in his own sadness.
Forever a cloud over his sun.
There is no foundation upon which to build.

Styx always flowing too fast to jump;
Life: too slow.

The eye, his eye, red from exhaustion & drought,

Algiz of the soul, inversed.
He has no apotheosis nor revelation of Godhood.

The golden light in his life,
dulled to a smoldering shadow,
could not be re-ignited.

Others smile without hesitation, nor lies.
Others' light: a golden fire.

There is no door out of life for the cowardly,
& no spark to rebirth the light.

A cold limbo, his.

The crushing weight of the world,
moste existential,
was also the dreadful crushing weight of existence for him.

Everyday, a labored breath of smoke drenched air.

Every lie, a cry for help he neither wanted nor deserved.


..
Walking blindly through the fog of existence.

Forever, forever...
Unto nothing, nihil, nothing...

Forever.

Nothing.

..Forever.

a gypsy of changing face
says:
‘I know
you have been living
in this land
long
very very long
so will you please tell me
how long’

my first time !  I reply
just arrived - few days ago
all details in a flash...

But he ignores
and repeats
the same

Do I not really
understand
as I smile
and thank him politely?

Yes
It all sounds so holy
just like this cow
visiting
each and every
day
while I write
in the same cafe

Really! :) yes
yes
Can you imagine!? :)
She just comes to watch
oh No … not hungry
the owner says
as if everyone
knows but me
I explain
Jokingly

while I secretly wish
wish for what he says:

‘You have the same fire
of an indian woman
in your eyes
a woman that never dies
until she brings healing
Healing
and something more’
… he says

And I babble
babble on

He and I
On a thin line
Playing
A dangling
game of
Oh the silly me’s
questioning
as if s
reasoning
residues of
habits

so Maybe...
I say for the
last time
And forget

Forget
to only live
the thing
with him

unknowing

and I look up
to see

to see
the me
in his
fiery

but he

He is not even
looking

Me is
one point just
beyond  a holy

We - union of three

Inversed
to match
to a combined path
of the ever known

which
I used to call unknown
which now makes
me
mute alone

As he held me in his warm loving embrace
He so feathery soft and ever so gently let his fingers trace
The new ink mark that use to be a branded scar on my face

He looked bewildered "what is this how did it become tattooed"
I spoke softly still weak "I do not know, I'm confused"
The evil pulsing throughout making my insides feel bruised

"My darling Witch where did the brand go"
I was to scared to tell him where the evil now flowed
I didn't want to tell him it was now inside that thorough my skin it had sunk below

I am beginning to realize what really was the curse
It was going against all I had ever felt it was inversed
And this stirring of evil was so unlike my compassion, it was so much worse

I was starting to see that with more good deeds
The branded evil symbols sunk below and off my soul it feeds
Will his love pull me through will it be all I need

We rested but for a little while, knowing that the Dark Lord was on his way
On this mountainside we could not stay
There was to many tunnels and caves, I could tell from the sun the day was starting to decay

I mounted our skittish dark ride
I sat in front the the knight behind
The rib from the white dragon we tried to hide

The knight had fashioned it into a sharp sword
So it could pierce any armor any flesh, for it was pure evil we where racing toward
I had seen in a vision it was going to be a great wicked horde

I prayed to the God Itus for protection, what we where facing was immense
Even under me the demons horse it's muscles tense
The look in the knight's eye's was extremely intense

I had to ask why that particular dragon he said "because she is the sister to the dragon of the moon
LEANA slayed the demons in ones sleep, her bones the light consumes
And to the suns light the Dark Lord was not immune"

I looked at him puzzled "but the sun does not shine at night"
He replied "yes dear Witch it does, the moon has no light of it's own it reflects the sun's light
And once stuck in the evil one he can not pull it out, and the bone collects the rays and against it the dark can't fight"

We was now almost off the mountain, we where headed to the flat land
That is where I'm afraid will be our final stand

In the distance we can see a village, black smoke was bellowing like flames where being fanned
We headed towards it a stop unwanted, unplanned

Soda bread was baked in a
bastable ***, the lid inversed,
covered with glowing embers
over a turf fire, in the hearth.

At the table, my grandfather
held it with his left hand and
shoulder, as a violin, cutting back
and forth with a knife, like a bow.

It isn't paranoia
but the fear that has been following
Waiting for my word and for my pen
premonitions of the sword
that which men may have sheathed
though their waists still not unscathed
The lack of rhythm in each year
however steep the run can be
November always seems
to be the downbeat
It does not care whether we've moved on
or whether we cared at all
Still it holds you to that point
and it dares you to speak
inversed by the genie
of the very next morning
I did not mean, and did not wish
to find the pulse within my own
living, breathing, grieve-ish
body in disguise of a person,
in disguise of a tomb
I regress while you digress
and it can only be unfair
that I am worn, but I'm extended
apprehended by the likes of vacancy
and vacancy alone
I tell the tale to the dirt itself
the rubble I intend
to sink within and sink without
a means to any end
no mighty sword to **** the pen
where the pen has left my hand
where Divinity's demands
demand for more
than the sword
and the pen
who cannot bargain for his own
and cannot bargain with no hand
I will not pick it up
for I refuse to understand
the purpose of a Lord
and the meaning of command
where I am to live
in place of those who wish to
and I am to speak
to ground in those who can't
and the rhythm is lost
and the gateway is clear
that something new was meant for me here
&from nothing, I'm now bound to believe:
without the pen, the hand is clean

What's happening, my dear, what's happening,
Why the directions are inversed,
Why oceans are scared of deserts?