Those who were marginalized by the braids and serpentine lights, devotions were made in San Juan allowing electromagnetic discharges from the imperceptible space-time of Vernarth's parapsychological quantum; alluding to clarities that achieved everything by having Patmia in the material and incorporeal from the start of the stained glass windows and archetypes by Transfer Quantum that burned the chins of hominids who believed to be immortal as if they were looking in this position for the direction between the eyebrows and the chin , for the Euclidean incidence crossing all the pools that are between quantum means of transfer of ions and cations. The oscillations of the sparkling field of consciousness of the containers were of ethical variables that became perpendicular to the space of draft or levitation of the designations that originated with accelerated electric charges on Patmos, developing albiceleste skylights over the harmonic equations as they elongated in proportions of quanta that They argued greater than those that circulated elliptically from Grikos to Skalá, and then to Profitis with assiduous progenitors of long-wave quanta. The magnificence of the halo became rectilinear up to the high altar that was atomized from the unskillful penumbra to reabsorb the inclinations of physical life in the Macedonians and the Achaemenides when they were trapped by the loss on the propagation of the Lux, which was imposed in hemicycles where they were they reclined to relax in the lux of rest of the path of the reasoning that made pederasty in the links with the minuscule obtuse lights, reeling from the clothing and its finite speed of what measures the ability to be undetermined in the margins of error of the antagonists when originating flow rates, greater in his dermis to regenerate towards any other that could be clothing of greater speed.

Thus was the scenario of dimensional magnitude between the powers that did not have contact, but their dimensionless energies on a surface that reached absorbent to the one that rectifies the concretive of the error that partially abused them. Their legacies would pass to a supplementary electromagnetic plane, separating their masses and retaking orientation from where they returned, where if the ideal of the final rational was refracted where everything would be vivid darkness. The obstacles classified them in the closure of the average height and the average surface, to then redirect to the maximum height and maximum surface propagating in irregularities of the Ego "Believing that they were never overcome in the diffuse perception of the metal mirror." The incident rays of the Lux would go to meet the multi-incident plane of the Mashiach, the wave angles were refracted throughout the sinuous law as radiosity passed over the greater mass that was normalized from the tangent that was projected 180 meters above the eyebrow. and Vernarth's chin, along with the recharged electromagnetic strengths of Alexander the Great's reactivation bezels, which at times seemed to levitate over the Lux's high frequencies and vary independently with its crowded functionalities, among scattered restraints that it presented to both weightless behind. from the decayed marble sawdust, separating from its phosphorescence that bounced between the rigging of solid surfaces and semi-solid ones, when realizing that the sea and the silica were confessed to the Pronoia of Delphi. Inducing Vernarth for the first time into a Pronoia versology on the Athena of Delphi, prompting them to separate from the world and it's holistic to divide into three portions of the dissociation of consciousness from the end of the Lux of Parapsychology, which had hosted them for centuries and centuries. . The Pronoia conspiracy systematized the reaction that would reunite them after this oracular parapsychology, making the adversaries believe that they were discrepancies of clinical parapsychology, equating warlike causes in the containment of Delphic neuroscience. From this quantification, the predominance of Vernarth's Lux de Pronoia was announced, linking peculiar segmentation of submit logical historicity in this work as a starting thesis, which speculates the same for those who have to make an analysis of historical dogmatic imperialism as a justification for mythological normality. The Lux thesis aimed to show that the dimensions of the mythology and the submitology, when exposed in physical quanta, made a tendency of irresolution in the abode of spiritual Tractatus reasoning and not in the instinctual one, which watches over recitals where history and its collective memory indicate outbursts of moderation. The role of the submithology  is to pretend that this normality is made close to the instruction after yours temporary for causes of your deep patrimonial, that makes them captives from the social complexity, with the disambiguation of certain criteria by maximizing the hidden truth of the ascending opposition forces that they have generated great conflagrations, intuition being the unreflective pseudo-reality with historical formalities that stumble into the terrified directionality of the myth that was to be reality. The tiny spaces of the verve left by the silent mechanics of the Persians became defensive when they saw their emissaries incoherently in the verticality of Allah when they saw that the confusing world with anxiety exaggerated predictions and failures invulnerability of a lineage that always had. been condemned to the desert.

Everything conspired with a Pronoia of siege, before the exegesis that sought purification and that was how they headed and misdirected their mistakes in the active train of the recess of their abstracted retreat, in a universe that also abandoned them after the subsequent train of Aurion waking them in their illusions with swords, and stealthy spears in dreams that specified safe rest. The ferocities of the proto-souls of assault carried away the translucent bodies of the Persians, and the Hellenes in acts of honor made such congenital paths of the understandable vocabulary that he did not speak. The prism was located in the cautious measure of its contractile dispersion with white separations of mantles, earth, and water scalded by dynamics that formed colorful activations with their withdrawal phenomena in the immaculate albino Lux that dissolved all of the facet optics that it made. Lux's great brain in the instant that the Thuellai airs transfigured the nuances of the Atros monastery, with objects that refused to be absorbed by the black hue, generating mechanical waves of equivalence in their identical interference that caused two opposing forces to distill the coherent differential that had to be overexposed in the category of historical Submitology. The two inverted waves separated, the Hellenes moaned and hiccupped for having to become identical when separating from their immaterial bodies, doing wonders that would house additional souls that would complement a transitory becoming towards the garden of the angels that provided them with identical beams of light, interfering in what animated the lights of pageantry, with the antithesis of interference where they resided in constancy knowing that they felt possessed of benefits of the eternal length of existence, but with pressures of mutable in some involuntary constancy and amplitude of having parallel directions with Saint John the Apostle and the Siblis. The phenomenon of polarization of both empires was denatured in a transverse way in all the electric fields after this feat, inciting unique fields of the pure and selective ascending ecosystem, which generated polaroid substances at the angle of ninety degrees above the browbones and chin of Vernarth, to approach the Pronoia of concatenation with Alexander the Great refracting unscathed hyper-vital and transcendent faces of infinity. Like any other phenomenon, the Lux crossed both bodies like two Xiphos swords that processed the electromagnetic valve, by iridium that converted with all the coarse Lux that crossed the succumbed immateriality and stopped the shaft and the nail that hang in the typology of electromagnetic radiation from the Hellenic world between them, making an ominous redemptive fire that was regimented to leave them both in the middle of a farm where there were farmyard animals, stockpiled pastures and a house that absorbed them as parents who would love them as beings of Lux. Thus, this primary parapsychological quantum network penetrated the level of the archangels that made them be together in planes of manumission, and that does not admit bi-quantum personality or bi-parapsychology that can cancel out the portent of the helmets and the lineage that does not dazzle if they are not made of iron.

The life of the other world began to be encompassed in all the Subtraigus beings that would correspond to the astral plane that was confirmed after the Kalidona Romantics deduced the Unicorn Uilef or Uilef Monókeros after Pronoia. Kalidona being an uninhabited island and the Uilef sleeps in between copulating with Spinalonga and Kolokythas along with other smaller islets, plus two hundred that will make up six islands of the twenty-six tetragram of Alef. Here Drestnia went with her consort of Etréstles from the Koumeterium of Messolonghi to find fateful encounters of Pantheism based on the majestic copulation of beauty, among twenty-six numbers that prevailed in virtuosos who took refuge in Kalydon or Kalidona, preparing for their rampage with grafted grotesque derived bodies of the Falangist Hellenes who were arranged of their musculature, so that they directed the finesse of the civility of Hesiod, Terpando, Archiloco, Baquílides, tragic like Etréstles, Aeschylus Sophocles, Euripides and comedian like Aristophanes.

Fare thee well by islets of time,
Beauteous blooms of fragrance; of thyme.
Gliding symphonies beckons thine eye,
Gentle minds float toward sky high.

O cues sung by the siren, allure!
Once, fusion of reason borne pillar.
Twice ponder, may our paths entwine,
Thrice to act, unlike the tranquil Seine.

Like angelic enigmas par Euler,
Soar upon the painted auric frontier.
Air fresh: an ebullient morning dew,
Wisdom: moisture for the thirsty few.

By spring fountain, if thou art inclined,
Bright sparrow among the bovine herd.
Lo, argent quarry of dust- liquid guile,
Behold, product beyond thunder- gale.

Scents of lavender assail thy sleep,
Euphoric dreams, we welcome with glee!
Sleepy horizons, a glorious dawn,
Morning filled with a trillion suns.

Some time, some day: travel the stars,
Mortal shackles unchain my awful maw.
Pupil of Aristotle, Darwin, and Vinci,
There lies truth; a transient hierarchy...

I know about lying on broken bones, beading into my back.
She was missing something.
She was lying on hands searching through the trench coat of a bathroom romance, watching butterflies melt,
She was becoming herself
At four thirty am I write her account, embroidered in a diary of lullabies,
“this is what death must feel like, being  left alone in a street screaming of footsteps and blacked out whispering.”
She threw deliverance, caked over old vengeance, out of the car window with daybreak’s kisses. She writes,
“I sit in the heavy sleet of the delta drowning in resurrection, grime from age wipes over me once,
twice,
The broken blood pools out of ‘I love you’s’ and islets.”
She slept with the darkness.
“Prayers don’t come for me anymore.”
She glitters, shivers, tactless as a teacup in an earthquake,
She is awake.
”I am awake.”
She documents God- "I feel God,"
- in herself. "In myself.”
There is a silence.
A burning, left, cold to dry alone,

This is for her.
Call it, my face, swathed in the impenetrable darkness when it is no longer my own, call it an aunt’s love when a mother’s doesn’t suffice any longer. Call it,
cigarette buds and elevator rides to death’s door. Call it power bubbling up from the violation.
This is for you; call it Cuban cigars, show tunes, and Marylyn Monroe;
call it misery. Missing, call it hues and paint, my life prostrated on a disgruntled canvas. Call it fate.

This is for you.
Call it liquor stains and tarot cards in a fit of ecstasy. Epilepsy, call it the most intricate balancing act of existence.
An unseen performance, a lyric with no voice,
“a cry in the night”
”a scream of supplication”
The hunters’ march to death, the Holy Grail’s melting between your fingers, civilization pouring through veins,
“death, destruction, life, happiness, Azrael, Abbadon, blood, Rome!”
“I don’t want to feel this!”
Call it whispers of unspoken meetings and witches in the night, threatening,
“I know you!”
“No you don’t! Leave me alone.” Recognition. “I don’t want to listen…”
She writes,
“I loved you…
On purpose and…you left me,
with,
myself.”

You swell some strain on me,
You, middle kingdom!
Eradicating small detachments,
Of both sailors and marines.

They were ranked on islets and reefs,
With an integer of nine –
There in the island next to me,
I’m sure, you know who Spratly is.

Always wanting such detachment
To be eradicated by your own;
Now stationed
On a World War II era landing ship.

Your toy-ships came near me,
With 9-kilometer of the LST.
“It’s there illegally,”
How adamant that be!

I’ve tipped you off already,
Surely will I stand firm!
Then, you’ve countered me on! –
Opting for the ******* of more skyscrapers;
Those that are on stilts;
Now nearby two Reefs & a Bank? –
Nearby my darling Palawan Island!

“There is no room at all,”
For the negotiation on some point,
You’ve declared.

Oh, here’s my friend, U.S.
Left us with course of action to try;
Everyone calm down,
Be less provocative.
For often, he flies over;
Probing some stuffs.

You are the biggest offender, my friend;
In this dispute, you show no sign of slowing;
Or backing, down.
But hey, I won’t give up!

(9/9/13)

Islets of a many lets venting
cuts inside tented lightening
Of ghosts that rent with zest
Fading in and out as injusticed
On the path of lonely strokes
above the unseen finds and tides
The very many divergent corners
Of hearts painted with uncare
Rotten on acres of reality sink
above manners of the uncare
On field of an imagination trip
where I need to juggle young
Under the millions stars and starts
the change tracks and rotten traps
as the seconds on the clock ticks
as the steam rises above the reefs
Of an advent and beautific ripples

My soul is an enchanted boat,
Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float
Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing;
And thine doth like an angel sit
Beside a helm conducting it,
Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing.
It seems to float ever, for ever,
Upon that many-winding river,
Between mountains, woods, abysses,
A paradise of wildernesses!
Till, like one in slumber bound,
Borne to the ocean, I float down, around,
Into a sea profound, of ever-spreading sound:

Meanwhile thy spirit lifts its pinions
In music’s most serene dominions;
Catching the winds that fan that happy heaven.
And we sail on, away, afar,
Without a course, without a star,
But, by the instinct of sweet music driven;
Till through Elysian garden islets
By thee, most beautiful of pilots,
Where never mortal pinnace glided,
The boat of my desire is guided:
Realms where the air we breathe is love,
Which in the winds and on the waves doth move,
Harmonizing this earth with what we feel above.

We have past Age’s icy caves,
And Manhood’s dark and tossing waves,
And Youth’s smooth ocean, smiling to betray:
Beyond the glassy gulfs we flee
Of shadow-peopled Infancy,
Through Death and Birth, to a diviner day;
A paradise of vaulted bowers,
Lit by downward-gazing flowers,
And watery paths that wind between
Wildernesses calm and green,
Peopled by shapes too bright to see,
And rest, having beheld; somewhat like thee;
Which walk upon the sea, and chant melodiously!

I sailed the fjords between Powell River and
Drury Inlet to beyond the Salish Sea.
The land itself spoke from mountains, water falls, islets
From bird song and bear splashing fishers
From rutting moose and cougars sharp incisors.
The place has a scale that needs no advisers
But in our bodies felt, sensed in our story talking.
The Chinese spoke of sensing place by the four dignities
Of Standing of Reposing of Sitting or of Walking.
Indigenous peoples of the passage added of Paddling by degrees
For the Haida and Salish sang their paddles to taboos
To the rhythm of the drum in their clan crested canoes.
Trunks transformed indwelling people who swam like trees.
First Nations marked this land, made drawings above sacred screes
As they walked together, to gather, share and thank the spirit saplings.
So Dao-pilgrims in the blue sacred mountains of Japan rang their ramblings.
Now the loggers’ chainsaws were silent like men who had sinned.
I motored now for of wind not a trace -
I could see stories from the slopes, hear tales in the wind.
Modern hieroglyphs spoke from clear-cuts both convex and concave.
Slopes of burgundy and orange bark shaves
Atop the beige hills, and in the gullies the silver drying snags
and the brilliant pink of fire **** tags
A tapestry of  times in work.
A museum of lives that lurk.
Once the logging camps floated close to the head of inlets.
Now rusting red donkeys and cables no longer creak,
Nor do standing spar trees sway near feller notched trunks,
Nor do grappler yarders shriek as men bag booms and
Dump bundles in bull pens.
The names bespeak the work.
Bull buckers, rigging slingers, cat skinners, boom men and whistle punks.
…………………………………………………………………….
Ashore to *** with my dog I saw a ball of crushed bones in ****
Later we heard the evocative howl of a wolf
And my pooch and I go along with the song
Conjoining  with the animal call
In a natural world fearsome, sacred and shared.
---------------------------------------------------------­---
Old bunk houses have tumbled, crumbling fish canneries no longer reek.
Vietnam Draft dodgers and Canucks that followed the loggers forever borrowed -
Their hoisting winches, engines, cutlery, fuel, grease and generators.
While white shells rattled down the ebbing sea.
Listing float homes still grumble when hauled on hard.
Somber silhouettes of teetering totems no longer whisper in westerlies
Near undulating kelp beds of Mamalilakula.
Petroglyphs talk in pictures veiled by vines.
History is a tapestry
And land is the loom.
Every rock, headland, and blissful fearsome bay
Has a silence that speaks when I hear it.
Has a roar of death from peaking storms when I see it.
Beings and things can be heard and seen that
Enter and pass through me to evaporate like mist
From a rain dropped forest fist
And are composted into soil.
Where mountains heavily wade into the sea
To resemble yes the tremble and dissemble
Of the continental shelf.
Where still waters of deception
Hide the tsunamis surging stealth.
Inside the veins of Mother Earth the magmas flow
Beneath fjords where crystalised glaziers glow.
Here sailed I, my dog and catboat
Of ‘Bill Garden’ build
The H. Daniel Hayes
In mountain water stilled
In a golden glory of my remaining days.
In Cascadia the images sang and thrilled
Mamalilikula, Kwak’wala, Namu, Klemtu
The Inlets Jervis, Toba, Bute, and Loughborough.

Patristic Excerpt
John where made Patristic delays on the island in Christian times by building numerous panagias decorated with mosaics. They enter the port of the island walking in wild revelry after being greeted at the port. At dusk they arrive in Jorió finding the Venetian castle of the knights of the Order of Saint John, completely covered in blue olive oil (a phenomenon that had been caused by the previous visit of Etrestles and his entourage) In the same way, they make an antechamber to the northeast finding the Grotto of the Seven Virgins or Nymphs, whose satire succumbed to some incredulous neighbors, hiding some of their minor daughters after denying its consummation. This is not a minor legend told of how seven young girls disappeared into the cave when fleeing from some pirates, noting if it could be so, also the clues to find Etréstles that he had recently been here in frank search for his ghosts. “Behold, all this paraphernalia of bilocation was accentuated by the god Spílaiaus creating immediacy with all the times that they wanted from the present, and the future that is exclusive to the Itheoi gods” Petrobus the Pelican goes back to the colonies of his ancestors, he wore gold rings around his neck, and had no contact with his native colony since the last day they helped the fields with water due to the lack of fresh water. It is worth noting their property of converting salt water into fresh water but even more the quality of Petrobus in addition to where they step on its paws, everyone will shine and rejuvenate. It off-centers its wings with allotropic dyes that made it turn colors in addition to strengthening and lightening its body during long periods of flight, and lifts its angular bag and takes vertical flight to meet Reader and Vernarth again in the Early Christian Necropolis of the burial chapels, here they meditate with the god Azofar who levitated above them offering their submission to the wind that flows with great power under the catacombs pulling and moving spirits that wish to relocate with their placebo presiding over their doubts. They leave the port boarding a Triaconter that would take them to Kinaros before the night falls and is seized by the coastal fog, not resisting the rope that holds a ship, whatever it was many times these ships were maneuvered by rowing sailors but this time it was only consigned for them, it would only move without anyone intervening, only the eternal wind that kind will take them to the island of Reader's progenitors. On the transparent waters sailing in the Triaconter were the three, Vernarth in the Petrobus bow on the main mast of the sail, and Raeder beside him a few meters away remembering his parents when they emigrated from this island? The name of the ship that was named as “Eurydice” in every certain space of advance they approached the macaroon to empty the tears that this Nymph emanated through her half-open eyes, she would take a rag of the holy cocoon and wipe away the effusions that must have been more for some reason that he would want to know…? Upon arriving in the vicinity of Kinaros, a rainy cyclone hit them which lifted them above the surface of the island when they were less than 5 km from arriving. Vernarth takes the Xiphos's sword from him and cuts the ropes then Raeder noticing that they were at serious risk of being shipwrecked, tells Vernarth to get out of the ship and quickly runs to the bow covering the eyes of the Mask of the Eurydice and leaves the ship.

With an epic metaphysical tendency, he acclaims his magical steed Alikanto..., he flies over the ship and picks them up, and Reader takes hold of the rings on Petrobus's legs reaching the mainland consecutively. Kinaros is a land of fishermen and farmers, a long-lived land and ancient inhabitants who do not age; here there are no cemeteries or monuments, there is only eternal spring for those who can be grateful for a place that gives them peace, and melancholy love for those who do not live there. Here from this bountiful land come the Raeder Parents, they migrated to Kalymnos; being this land the one that saw his birth and immortalizes him so he remembers…: “In the islands of the Dodecanese, subdued by the carmine dew that falls at dawn on its crystalline waters, important archaeological remains and cenacles appear on the sand or gravel beaches to compete in athletic leisure, Raeder ran naked after the outfits of which his mother had made him. He was permeated by crystalline Byzantine, architectural and medieval monuments due to long Venetian dominations in his mannerisms what unite them to these islands is their history, and their occupations: that of the knights of the crusades to that of the Turks, the Italian occupation to the Greek annexation with their volatile outfits useless to dress up, Patmos is very popular among pilgrims from the moment his work was raised in one of the caves on the island of San Juan Evangelista, the disciple of Christ writing the Book of Revelations. Astypalea is the westernmost island of the archipelago and has Dodecanese Cycladic architectural features it is also related here in the Novel of Etréstles of Kalavrita matter of his victorious boast to Patmos when he resorts after the reverie with the Laziko Dance that was held by the little finger and circulated in commemoration of the stripping of the rebirth of spring with the Sousta del Dodecanese. These dances were engendered in the infra-ocean floor of the Ionian Sea, generating the power of the ethereal emanation of Etrestles from Kalavrita by daring to put Eclectic confrontation to the invisible portal of the Evangelist Saint John in his sacred basaltic cavern in the Patmos archipelago (Koumeterium Messolonghi, Chapter 16 - page 114. Editorial Palibrio-USA) (Koumeterium Messolonghi Chapter 16 - page 114 Editorial Palibrio-USA) It is also related here in the Novel of Etréstles of Kalavrita matter of his victorious boast to Patmos when he resorts after the reverie with the Laziko Dance that was held by the little finger and circulated in the commemoration of the stripping of the rebirth of spring with the Dodecanese´s Sousta. It is also related here in the Novel of Etréstles of Kalavrita matter of his victorious boast to Patmos when he resorts after the reverie with the Laziko Dance that was held by the little finger and circulated in commemoration of the stripping of the rebirth of spring with La Sousta del Dodecanese.

In the Chapel of Ministers: They were seconded by the high representatives of Kalymnos, among them the curious immortal serpentine Raeder son of native Kinaros farmers belonging to a clan group of six small islands and six small families. Some islets used to boast the genealogical beams and challenges of Antigone, and documented inspirations found between Leros and Kálymnos in the east and the Cyclades islands of Amorgós in the west. Raeder always got up before dawn on his window sill there always appeared a petite blue bonsai Pelican he called Petrobus, in the mornings he would run beating this Olympic bird in a fast dispute sometimes he was not able to say goodbye to his bird friend because he ran so fast that the days used to be weeks in a row, while Petrobus puffed through the Ouranos with his Hellenic Artificial Intelligence elytra, with his hyper exhalation he moved great rocky crags even moving and disorganizing the geographical nomenclature of these twelve polygon islands between the Cyclades and the Dodecanese. The lesser known and immaculate islands are Leros or Pserimos, while Rhodes and Kos the largest and most cosmopolitan islands are the goal of the migrated Blue Pelicans throughout the year. Before returning to his house, Raeder stretched out on grasses sheared by the heels of Petrobus's migrates and his henchmen in this grass dancer I could feel the dances with the gag dance bread vibrate through his arms in all the rumps of the maidens in the Sousta dance running after Petrobus with his golden mask and hanging from the wings or legs of his bird (Wings Mate), the art of flying with golden magical birds and his Ancient Mama Antigone to Raeder when sometimes he was flying by the legs of Petrobus, he thought...:

“My land… a thousand times I will lift you up with my arms, do not doubt it, my arms believe it… Oh, my venerated Ionian I will do apnea to please you a thousand times to become your Ionian molecule… Wind of Kalimnos himself…, I will make the flute an Ode that runs through twelve perforated epitaphs with my ancestors in the Dodecanese sleeping paroxysm in the panagia where I was baptized for the ninth time! And in the fatuous lavish fire, I will put the ceremonial ribbon of the Sousta Dance in the nap in the new migration of my transparent Pelicans….”

Raeder tells a visibly emotional Petrobus about imagining crying with his imagined friend. "Little Raeder of the Dodecanese" he utters to his magical imaginary friend; Petrobus, what else was missing from ground breadcrumb paste for next winter…? Petrobus, distracted and not looking at him tells him…, only placing his web-footed Hellenophile leg on his other equal…: “Fear nothing Raeder, God does not coexist! ...Now He and you are the same. With your arms you will be able to lift the sphere of the bare earth and reconvert it into a Healthy Earth of Milk and mead of our Kalymnos that runs like a quagmire through the mountains of your Life converted into a new House dressed in a new house” when Raeder finishes thinking…, Vernarth tells him that they had to sail to Patmos, curiously Eurydice's ship was in the bay, they believed that this ship had capsized and sank somewhere in the wide open sea of ​​the Aegean.
The three on boards the ship Eurydice, Alikanto stays in Kinaros batoning very well guarded by peasants who took great affection for him later he would join him on Patmos for service and trades pantry to Saint John the Evangelist. Alikanto will take a great contribution and role in the prophecies of Vernarth on the Isle of Patmos, just on board the Eurydice and surround themselves with a climate of seclusion and peace on the ship, not so far behind were the Cyclades and part of the Dodecanese he was full of vitality, he completely covered the Triaconter it was late and the moon was beginning to dress the deck with phosphorescence, Raeder and his little Petrobus were clearly exhausted deciding to sleep right there on the deck. He was also relieved of emotions after so much experimenting on the islands, as well as not being able to find his brother Etréstles to prepare to rest in her poetry, almost falling asleep he sees that from the bow a very quiet female figure approaches him with her lost gaze, and stands up seeing that it was Eurydice who was in front of him. She had her bandage on her eyes still approaching her and says Eurydice: “Can you remove the tape…? Only you can do that! Although due to this subtlety of yours in attention to me I tried..., of course, I must be able to recover my subsistence and its mobility as an indissoluble watercolor. Vernarth says; “In my narrative we know that Eurydice was a dryad, being the wife of Orpheus as a poet and musician. After evading Aristaeus´s harassment, she would now take refuge in a shipyard in Amphipolis and hide on a ship. She escapes with great speed and fear, as her heart only belongs to Orpheus, as she flees, Eurydice is bitten by a snake and dies, Orpheus, disconsolate, cries for her and her desperation finds no consolation, so he makes the risky decision to go in search of his sweet and beloved wife to Hades, the land of the dead. Vernarth longs to revive her in her comparative fable to her sweet song and her poetry, Orpheus managed to move Charon who lets him cross the River Styx, the boundary between the world of the living and the dead. Later, also with his artistic abilities, Orpheus manages to convince Persephone and Hades to allow him to take Eurydice. The subterranean divinities agree to be taken away but Orpheus must promise that he will not attempt to see his wife until he has brought her into the sunlight, so as agreed, Eurydice followed Orpheus on the way to the light, and at the moment when they were about to leave the dark depths, Orpheus had doubts thus, he began to think about the possibility that Persephone had deceived him and that Eurydice did not come after him, so he could not bear her temptation and turned to look at her and confirm that she was coming with him. When this happened, Eurydice was dragged by an irresistible force back to Hades. Orpheus, desperate tries to go again to rescue his beloved but this time Charon does not allow it, at this moment the god of the Genus Itheoi Aiónius clings to the purity of the distilled water pretending that Eurydice was going to the underworld, but the mirror flash of Ibico 1 would bring Eurydice from the darkness to the parallel world of Orpheus and Vernarth. Here Kaitelka and Borker (Semi Itheoi, concur in total harmony with Demeter, Persephone, and Hestia bringing from the labyrinths the rusty chains of Prometheus and Vertnarth that were wandering through infinity) Orpheus when he doubts is more than divine doubt, it is submithological human doubt that cracks the recondite doubts and trigger the valleys of perdition in the jungle dense in roads without being able to follow, especially if I personalize it in myself, said Vernarth. According to Vernarth giving ears in this magnanimous moment of what was narrated by herself, it represented Eurydice fearing being left unattended under hell, fleeing to Thrace to the port of Amphipolis, then boarding a ship stealthily entering being discovered by a captain later. She runs strong escaping from the officer and jumps overboard, the officer searches for her vehemently for several days, remaining buried in the holistic totally under a complication plot since a sailor had recapitulated her in a passage of this mythology that could take live life and action on your boat. Days go by and this Triaconter ship is whipped by the Persians on a disastrous day, everything frolicked from large figures to consider as well as fleeing from the Persians before an impartial and just intensified attack from the enemies the Triaconter is adrift. Eurydice follows in the footsteps of this ill-fated boat and then boards it again. “In the eighth month of navigating fully, she is discovered by Aristeo, She takes the start of a terrifying heart because she feared what could be born from the ship; perhaps become a subjective fear! She realized that it was not real and she understood that it was an anxiety of profuse delirium”. But it was too late for she hid in the bowsprit on her way to the bowsprit, with the decaying line to the figurehead she stays silent, tries to remove her feet and can't remain thus captive of the ship bound to the figurehead, provoked only by herself not by her as a divine Nymph but by the fear that haunted her like a viral fear in her own and her delusional fears. Vernarth, hates himself and tells Eurydice: “If you wish, I will jump overboard and be swallowed by the sea, and so I can find the oppressors who harass your persecution. Just tell me and I'll jump to save your reckless shattered fate. Only the existence that is nothing more than Bravery will combine the power to relieve you and free you from your chains.”

~

gold-encrusted jewels dance
on sun-drenched ocean stacks,
his rugged rocks etched deep
by her waves from far beneath,
and Pacific’s gusty breath;
his wind-swept islets burn,
aflame in sunset's dying embers,
like a lover's siren call.
his chiseled keyholes waiting
for the ciphered piercing rays
to collide in rushing tidal spray.
unlocking sunset's golden hour...
surging forth then quickly fades,
as sunbeam fingers slowly slip,
beneath horizon's sultry lip;
dusk unfolds in magic hues,
molten rose turns scarlet blues,
night descends as one by one,
we raptured star-kissed lovers
disembark this ferris wheel;
the curtain falls again,
with sea and rocks
rehearsing lines
to play again another day.
this their theatre
of the night,
performed by two alone,
beneath the moon
and starry sky.

~

*post script.

our last time through in 2004 was a blur on our way through to San Diego, an exhilarating ride for certain, with all of its bends and curves experienced top down in a convertible, but hardly doing justice to Big Sur’s stunning scene in mere hours; we told ourselves we simply had to return.  

it took eleven years, and this time we spent a full five days and nights along Highway 1, towing a camper and slow-driving south from Monterrey all the curves to Morro Bay, exploring just about every hike and lookout in between; and in so doing, validating our return in a most satisfying way.  Big Sur is officially off our bucket list!  her sunsets were particularly rewarding, especially two... one enjoyed at sea level, from the sand and keyholes at Pfeiffer Beach day use area, the other delighted us from high above the ocean waves, seated at the picnic table of our cliff-side camp site at Kirk Creek Campground.

a most refreshing time to recuperate and recharge our spirits; five glorious days of disconnection, reconnecting to nature, each other and best of all, life at the speed of sunsets and star gazing; evenings spent round the campfire with no cell, no i-pad, no laptop, only the light of the fire, the stars and that sparkle in each other's eyes!

A sea of buttery happiness
Is home to the roundest of islets
Side by side they wallow.

Quite naturally, the islands,
Are covered in ham.
Ham? Ham!
And lazily perched
On the hams highest point
Sits an avian sphere
Perfectly poached.

Straining against its
White little straight jacket.
Pop.

moves like ash through the air
                                                off a balcony
                                                            Me
                                                             of course I’m coarse like gloves  
                                                for falconry
                                                        ­    My
                                                             stomach is the water of the
                                                Balkan Sea
                                                            Her
                                                             cadence is the snow in Fuji
                                                mountain’s spring
                                                          ­  She’s
                                                             a tree I would down just
                                                to count the rings
                                                            When­
                                                             she moves her mouth in any
                                                amount it sings


                                                            Sh­e’s
                                                            When­.
                                                            she’­s
                                                            when­,
                                                          silent­ sirens sing
                                                  on violent violet islets
                                                            and seems
                                                    all the world’s a dream
                                                             I
                                                             am
                                                               the
                                                   breeze the sea sends
                                                           ­   and seas uneven
                                                          ­  sinks ships
                                                           ­     clips wings
                                                                ­ indecent
                                                        ­        is ants
                                                                ­ in the lips
                                                          of her honey drip
                                                                ­       ings
                                                                ­        swings
                                                  ­                      whips
                                     ­                                    glist
                                                                ­           ning
                                                                ­          eclips
                                                ­                           ed  
                                                            ­           miss thing
                                                                ­      get with
                                                            ­            hitch
                                                                ­          ings?
                                                                ­         drip
                                                                ­    queen of kings
                                                           ­               miss  
                                           ­                                myth
                                                            ­             I’m miss
                                                            ­                  ing
                                           ­                           can we just slip
                                                                ­                 into
                                                                ­                  exist
                                                                ­                   ing
                                                             ­             got you in my grip
                                                                ­                 my grip
                                                                ­                     is
                                                                ­                   tight
                                                           ­                          ning

15 April 2014*

The sea is callin’ to me
The clouds hidin’ in the mountain
All the light explodin’ b’fore my eyes
The powdery sand coatin’ my feet
The footsteps left on the shore
Tryin’ to find, relivin’ you
I would’ve followed you,
Anywhere.

I caught myself—
Throwin’ pebbles at the sea,
Like how we used to skipping stones
And runnin’ across the bay
Until we get tired
And our cheeks sore ‘n’ red
Like the watermelons
We **** to quench
The thirst of our—
Youth 'n' childhood.

The sand in your hair
The sea in your eyes—
Deep as the colour of
The sky at high noon.
I miss them,
I could get drowned
Into them and never
Survive, but happily
Close my eyes
To feel the sun and
All your love.
For the last time,
Forever.

The freckles on
Your cheeks,
Remind me of those
Distant islets—
Neighbouring,
The beautiful summers
Of our lives.

We watched every sunset
Took a lot of photographs
I saw you surf,
Over ‘n’ under the waves
And thrown back into the sea,
Like a fish that—
Jumped out of the net.
You can't drown it,
In the water.

I remember the time,
When we had fun
Who knew happiness,
Can be intoxicating?
It was a brief,
Yet close encounter.
It’s summer once again
Everythin’ is comin’ back:
The people, the place
The mem’ry
Except— you
Never knew, I’d miss you
You’ve scarred ‘n’ left me,
Like sunburn—
Seven summers, later.

Kissamos Council

They arrive in the afternoon with their faces tanned by the Cretan sun. Vernarth in his Alikanto pass to a first instance that presents them with a chronological table and a map where the archaeological sites of finds from the geometric period and the historical development of one of the oldest and most important areas in the area would be located; Polirrenia and Falasarna. Searching as usual if any evidence of knowledge of any news from Etréstles would be presented in the various necropolis of the city. They crossed Chania to reach Heraklion, arriving at Arjanes unexpectedly.

The Minoan necropolis of Furní was present to them, as an archaeological site located on the eponymous hill, on the island of Crete that contains remains of the Minoan civilization. The archaeological site is located near Arjanes, where there was a Minoan settlement on Mount Juktas, where there was an important sanctuary. It is a necropolis that was in use for a long period of time, 1200 BC. C. Excavations have uncovered a wide variety of funerary monuments, hundreds of burials, and rich grave goods. Vernarth pursuing the nose of Etréstles, knew he would control here the remains of the trousseau, monuments and precious jewels. Before leaving for the Castelli hills, to which he had to guard the relics. Etréstles is the celestial jurist abbot of the Koumeterium of Messolonghi, and of all the necropolis of the world, mainly Hellenic until the death of Alexander the Great 332 a. C., and perpetually.

As usual Etréstles always transmigrates for each intraterrestrial city, beyond all expression. "He is the supreme minister of the moldy wall, of whose solid stones he still continues to reside beneath those as a simple abandoned mushroom." … These are the ominous words that Vernarth emits when they began to take flight to Kalymnos.

Raeder hung with both hands over the jasper-plated iron hoops that come from reiterating the Greek "iaspis", which means "stained stone".Which was now stained green, like the stripes on Alikanto's hooves. He had to go to the ancient lands of Raeder's parents, where his ancestors came from; Kinaros, between Leros Island and Kalymnos. Vernarth jumped with joy knowing that his supernatural little friend would take him to those lands unknown to him. He takes Alikanto and leaves, behind and turning in circles, he was escorted by Reader, clinging to the golden rings that the pelican Petrobus invested.

Kalymnos

They land in the lavish waters where the Pelican Petrobus originated. They descend on an afternoon of great hot festivity. The peasant people celebrated having had a good harvest. Also not to be happy about the novelty of being fortunate to have no misfortune to have to regret tribulations for some charm of other maidens towards the Cave of the Nymphs, and where Apollo was the patron god of Kalymnos. This sanctuary was the political and religious center from the beginning of the first millennium BC. C.until the first centuries AD. The inhabitants of Kalymnos were the first Greeks to convert to Christianity thanks to their proximity to Asia Minor since Saint Paul and Saint John made a stop on the island, in the Christian era, building numerous churches decorated with mosaics. They enter the island's port, they walk in unbridled revelry after being greeted at the port. At dusk they arrive at Jorió, to find the Venetian castle of the knights of the order of San Juan completely covered in blue olive oil (a phenomenon that had been caused by the previous visit of Etrésltes and her entourage). In the same way they make the anteroom to the northeast, finding the Grotto of the Seven Virgins or Nymphs. Whose satire succumbed to some incredulous neighborhoods, hiding some of his younger daughters after denying their consummation. This is not a minor narrative legend of how seven young girls disappeared into the cave when they fled from pirates. Noticing depending on whether it could be so, also the clues to find Etréstles who had been here recently.

Petrobus the Pelican resorts where the colonies of his ancestors. He had the gold rings on his neck. He had no contact with his native colony since the last day they helped with water in the fields due to the lack of fresh water. It is worth noting their property of converting salt water into fresh water, but even more so the quality of Petrobus, in addition to where they step on their feet they will all shine and rejuvenate. It decentralizes its wings with allotropic tints, which made it turn colors, in addition to strengthening and relieving its body in long periods of flight. He lifts his beak and flies vertically to meet Reader and Vernarth in the Early Christian Necropolis of the funeral chapels. Here they meditate and offer their submission to the wind that flows with great power under the catacombs, pulling and moving the spirits that want to relocate with their placebo presiding over their doubts. .

They leave the port, boarding a Triacontero that would take them to Kinaros before night falls and is seized by the coastal fog that does not resist rope that holds a ship whatever it was; many times these ships were maneuvered by rowing sailors. But this time it was only consigned to them, it would only move without anyone having to intervene; only the eternal and kind wind will have to take them to the island of Reader's parents.

Kinaros
Triacontero Ship

On the transparent waters sailing in the Triacóntero were the Three. Vernarth at the bow, Petrobus at the main mast of the canopy, and Raeder next to him a few meters from Vernarth, remembering his parents when they emigrated from this island. The name of the ship that was named was "Eurydice". Every certain space of advance, she approached the mask to empty the tears that this Nymph emanated from her semi-open eyes. Vernarth took a cloth of sacred linen and dried the flows that should not have been more than for some reason that he wanted to know?

When they arrived near Kinaros, a rainy cyclone increased, raising them above the surface of the island, when they were less than 5 km away. Vernarth takes his Xiphos sword and cuts the ropes. Then Raeder, noticing that they were in serious danger of being shipwrecked, tells Vernarth to get out of the ship quickly. Vernarth runs to the bow and covers the eyes of Eurydice's Mascaron and leaves the ship. With his epic metaphysical thinking, he acclaims his magical steed Alikanto, he flies over the ship and picks them up, and Reader takes hold of the hoops on Petrobus's legs, reaching solid ground.

Kinaros is a land of fishermen and farmers. Long-lived land of ancient inhabitants that do not age. There are no cemeteries or monuments here. There is only eternal spring for those who can be grateful for a place that gives them peace and melancholic love from those who do not live there. Here, from this generous land come the Raeder Fathers. They migrated to Kalimnos; being this lands the one that saw it born and immortalizes it. So remember...:
"In the Dodecanese islands subdued by the carmine dew that falls in the morning on its crystalline waters, on sandy or gravel beaches of important archaeological remains and scenes to compete in athletic leisure, Raeder ran naked after the clothes that his mother had readymade. It was covered by crystalline Byzantine monuments and medieval architecture due to the long Venetian ******* in its mannerisms. What unites it to these islands, their history and their occupations: that of the knights of the crusades to that of the Turks, the Italian occupation to the Greek annexation with their volatile useless attire to dress? Patmos is very popular with pilgrims from the moment his work was raised in one of the caves on the island of Saint John the Evangelist, a disciple of Christ, writing the Book of Revelations.
Astipalea is the westernmost island in the archipelago and has architectural features from the Dodecanese Cyclades. It is also related here in the Etréstles de Kalavrita novel matter of his victorious boast to Patmos, when he resorts after the reverie of the Laziko Dance in which they seized the little finger and circulated in commemoration of the stripping of the rebirth of spring with La Sousta of the Dodecanese. These dances were generated on the ocean floor of the Ionian Sea, generating the power of the ethereal emananation of Etrestles from Kalavrita by daring to put Eclectic confrontation on the invisible portal of Evangelist Saint John in his sacred basaltic cavern in the Patmos archipelago (Koumeterium Messolonghi, Chapter 16 / page 114. Editorial Palibrio - USA)

In the Chapel of Ministers

They were seconded by the high representatives of Kalimnos, among them the curious immortal serpentine Raeder. Son of farmers, natives of Kinaros belonging to a group clan of six small islands and six small families. Some islets used to flaunt the genealogical beams of the Antigone challenges and documented inspirations found between Leros and Kalymnos in the east and the Cycladic island of Amorgós in the west.

Raeder always got up before dawn, and a petite blue bonsai Pelican always appeared on the threshold of his window; called him Petrobus. In the mornings, he ran, beating this Olympic bird in a quick dispute. Sometimes he could not say goodbye to his friendly bird, because he ran so fast that the days used to be weeks in a row, while Petrobus snorted through the skies with his wings of Hellenic Artificial Intelligence. With his hyper exhalation he moved large rocky cliffs, even moving and disorganizing the geographical nomenclature of these twelve polygonal islands of the Dodecanese.
The least known and uncontaminated islands are Leros or Pserimos, while Rhodes and Cos, the largest and most cosmopolitan islands, are the target of migrant Blue Pelicans throughout the year. Before returning home, Raeder stretched out on the grasses sheared by the heels of the Petrobus migrants and their minions. In this dancing grass I could feel the dances with gag bread dancing on all the hips of the damsels of the Sousta dance by his arms. He ran after Petrobus with his golden mask and hung on the legs of his bird (Wings Mate), the art of flying with golden magic birds and his Ancient Antigone Mama.

When he sometimes flew by the feet of Petrobus, he thought..
"My ground ... a thousand times I will lift you with my arms, do not hesitate my arms believe it ...
Oh my revered Ionian, I will apnea to please you a thousand times to become your Ionic molecule...
Wind by Kalimnos himself ..., I will make the Oda flute that travels through the twelve pierced epitaphs of my ancestors in Dodecanese asleep of paroxysm in the chapel where I was baptized for the ninth time!
And by the fatuous lavish Fire I will put the ceremonial ribbon of the Sousta Dance in the siesta of the new migration of my transparent Pelicans…. ”.

Raeder tells Petrobus visibly excited imagining crying with his imagined friend. "The little Raeder from the Dodecanese region", he tells his magical imaginary friend; what was the most missing Petrobus of ground breadcrumb paste for next winter?
Petrobus tells him not looking at him ..., just placing his palm-legged heliophylloid leg on his other one like ...: Nothing, fear Raeder, God does not exist!. Now He and you are the same. You will be able to lift the sphere of the flat earth with your arms and convert it into a healthy land of milk and honey from our Kalimnos that runs like mud over the mountains of your Life turned into a new House dressed in a new house”.

When Raeder finishes thinking ..., Vernarth tells him that they had to set sail for Patmos. Curiously in the bay was the ship of Eurydice. They believed that this ship had capsized and sunk somewhere on the wide Aegean high seas. The three boards the ship Eurydice, Alikanto stays in Kinaros grazing in good safety from the peasants who took great affection for him. Later she would join him in Patmos for the service and pantry of the offices for Saint John the Evangelist. Alikanto will take a great contribution and role in the prophecies of Vernarth on the Isle of Patmos.

Whence come ye, so wild and so fleet,
For sandals of lightning are on your feet,
And your wings are soft and swift as thought,
And your eyes are as love which is veiled not.

We come from the mind,
Of humankind,
Which was late, so dusk and obscene and blind.
Now, 'tis an ocean,
Of clear emotion
A heaven of serene and mighty emotion

From the dim recesses,
Of woven caresses,
Where lovers catch ye by your loose tresses,
From azure isles,
Where sweet wisdom smiles,
Delaying your ships with their siren smiles.

We waded and flew
And the islets were few
Where the bud-blighted flowers of happiness grew,

Our spoil is won
Our task is done,
We are free to dive, or soar, or run,
Beyond and around,
Or within the bound,
Which clips the world with darkness around

The joy, the triumph, the delight, the madness,
The boundless, overflowing, bursting gladness,
The vaporous exultation not to be confined,
Ha! Ha! the animation of delight.
Which wraps me like an atmosphere of light
And bears me as a cloud is borne by its own wind

As the dissolving warmth of dawn may fold,
A half-unfrozen dew-globe, green and gold
And crystalline, till it becomes a winged mist,
And wanders up the vault of the blue day,
Outlives the noon, and on the sun's last ray,
Hangs over the sea, a fleece of fire and amethyst

“Her belly ripped her rips now smashed to pieces,
Her kitchen wares spilled far and wide,
Her wheelhouse crooked and leaning hard,
She once had a crew that would toast her off,

Off the coast of Central America and isles of Europe,
This triple sail ship waits for her purloined moment,  
She once was a sequential ship of Laguna construction,
Now a reconstructed by once sailors her new owners,

Now a blue and white triple sailboat in all her elegance,
As she is spotted along the enclave’s estuary blue peninsulas,
She is now home once again in an inlaying captain of discovery,
She has been brought back to life to sail the seven seas,

Once again the Laguna Triple Sail Ship this wager is here to STAY,
Now the magnificent splendor all the islets of the estuary deep blue sea,
Sail as Gibbous moon illuminates the enclave from whence we came”

By Andrew Guzaldo 11/07/2019 © #168

CHAPTER XI
Dodecanese Sunflower Raeder

From Patmos, hundreds of children could be seen hanging from the legs of the blue pelicans of the Dodecanese. Raeder hung with both hands over the jasper-plated iron hoops from the Greek "iaspis", which means "stained stone." It is found in hydrothermal veins, in volcanic rocks, and in sedimentary rocks. With their four webbed fingers they wore the amethyst rings for the housewives who celebrated Thanksgiving, and the celebration of the guidelines of Saint John that they were sent transported in a golden shoe peak. Generally there were more than five thousand who passed through the counties; they swallowed canonized water from the Ionian Sea, with its great advantage of reproducing seas salty water in fresh water to drink. They were taken to each house to fill their vessels and also during planting periods, they watered their farms in summer periods when it was scarce. With their golden brown plumage they raffled for the olive fields and the ***** vines of the Goddess Aphrodite. And with their white feathers they sprinkled the barley fields with vinegar and recently slain wheat fields on the feet of Petrobus, their pelican of dreams. From here all the recipes were born in all the regions when the Bread was depressed, without firewood and tears. Patmos has engraved on the legs of pelicans that plan every day looking for houses where they can get to take the Gospel to them. All the children like Raeder are accompanied by other blessed ones, to bring them the good news and the families were waiting sitting near the end of their social limits, when they were waiting for them in the afternoons as thanksgiving. They ate in the afternoons to wait for the children to taste Tzatziki; Yogurt sauce with cucumber and caramel with poppy and honey drinks.

The women received them in the apartments near their Gineceo, and right there they exchanged gifts that they brought from the Grotto of the Evangelist in Patmos. Children from the moment the expectant mother was known or suspected to be pregnant. They came quickly so that the cast did not have problems, they were considered a divine gift the only children, the first-born or those who were born to older parents, it was the privilege of these birthright.

Reckless is its popularity at the mention that appears in the Apocalypse of John, in whose introduction it is said that the author was exiled to Patmos, where he had his encounter with Jesus in the so-called Grotto of the Apocalypse, which gave rise to the book. The early traditions of Christianity identified this character with Saint John the Evangelist.

For this reason, the island of has become an important Christian pilgrimage destination; aside from the one in Hora, there are several more monasteries dedicated to San Juan, and visitors can see the cave where, according to tradition, it had its visions. The churches and religious communities of Patmos belong to the Eastern Orthodox tradition. Petrobus was more distant from its flights rather than knowing how to arrive in the mornings and at night after three, past the meridian, since here San Juan was in prayers for the holy animals that distributed their parcels to the Dodecanese families and surrounding towns. Raeder was the son of two farmers from Kinaros, who live in Dodecanese. They form this super boy who has a great affinity with the Petrobus pelicans. A kind of prodigal Zeus poultry that anticipated the wishes of farmers. His webbed pet was Petrobus. This super bird, resided in the San Juan grotto, and always recruited more of his kind to take them to the Dodecanese neighborhoods, the encyclicals that he promoted emeritus. The Saint ordered him to order and bring all the families in a Eucharistic tone. These birds were never deprived of flying because they had the gift of their living soul in them to transmit wishes of great fulfillment by order of the Saint, who worked with the beads of his rosary and did not leave any discounted olives.

Raeder, among all the chosen children with super powers. They would be distinguished to travel over the pelicans to Gaugamela. They, as a childish personality in each of Alejandro Magnus' Falangists, pierced with their replica odyssey the breaks that the Petrobus made for them. Even on the overgrown and disoriented ranks, leaving them exposed on the open flanks of the Achaemenides, their leather and wicker shields softening, the same without even being able to retreat and shelter.
In the Dodecanese islands the carmine morning dew that falls in its crystalline waters, sandy or gravel beaches, important archaeological remains as scenes to compete in athletic leisure is subjugated, he ran naked after the outfits that his mother had made, was overshadowed by crystalline Byzantine monuments and medieval architecture due to the long Venetian ******* in its mannerisms. What unites these islands is their history and their occupations: that of the knights of the crusades to that of the Turks, the Italian occupation to the Greek annexation with their volatile useless attire to dress.

Patmos is very popular with pilgrims since the time when one of the caves on the island of Saint John the Evangelist, a disciple of Christ, wrote the Book of Revelations, and Astypalea is the westernmost island in the archipelago and has architectural characteristics of both kinds. Dodecanese Cyclades. It is also related here in Kalavrita's Etrestles Novel in his victorious boast to Patmos, when he resorts after the reverie of the Laziko Dance that they hold on to the little finger and circulate in commemoration of the stripping of the rebirth of spring with La Sousta del Dodecaneso . These dances, generated on the infra-ocean floor of the Ionian Sea, generated the force of the ethereal emanation of Etréstles from Kalavrita by daring to put an Eclectic confrontation on the invisible portal of the Evangelist Saint John in his sacred basaltic cave in the Patmos archipelago (Koumeterium Messolonghi, Chapter 16 / page 114. Editorial Palibrio - USA)
  
In the Chapel of Ministers
They were seconded by the high representatives of Kalimnos, among them the curious immortal serpentine Raeder. Son of farmers, natives of Kinaros belonging to a group clan of six small islands and six small families. Some islets used to flaunt the genealogical beams of the Antigone challenges and documented inspirations found between Leros and Kalymnos in the east and the Cycladic island of Amorgós in the west. To the south is Astipalea, this group of islands is made up of Plaka in the west, Glaros, the two Mavra islands and Lebynthos in the east. Kinaros is accessible through the islands of Amorgós or Kálimnos by wooden architecture boats.

Raeder always got up before dawn and a petite blue Bonsai Pelican always appeared on the threshold of his window; called him Petrobus. In the mornings, he ran, beating this Olympic bird Petrobus in a quick dispute. Sometimes he could not say goodbye to his friendly bird, because he ran so fast that the days used to be weeks in a row, while Petrobus snorted through the skies with his wings of Hellenic Artificial Intelligence. With his hyper exhalation he moved large rocky cliffs, even moving and disorganizing the geographical nomenclature of these twelve polygonal islands of the Dodecanese.

The least known and uncontaminated are Leros or Pserimos, while Rhodes and Cos, the largest and most cosmopolitan islands, are the goal of migrant Blue Pelicans throughout the year. Before returning home, Raeder stretched out on the grasses sheared by the heels of the Petrobus migrants and their minions. In this dancing grass he could feel the dances with gag bread dancing on all the hips of the maidens of La Sousta by his arms. He ran after Petrobus in his golden mask and hung on the legs of his bird (Wings Mate), the art of flying with magical golden birds and his Ancient Antigone Mama.

When he sometimes flew by the feet of Petrobus, he thought...
Tierra Mía… a thousand times I will lift you up with my arms, don't hesitate my arms believe it…
Oh my revered Ionian, I will apnea to please you a thousand times to become your Ionic molecule ... Wind of Kalimnos himself ..., I will make the Oda flute that goes through the twelve pierced epitaphs of my ancestors in Dodecanese asleep of paroxysm in the chapel where I was baptized for the ninth time!
And by the fatuous lavish Fire I will put the ceremonial ribbon of the Sousta Dance in the siesta of the new migration of my transparent Pelicans….

Raeder says to Petrobus visibly excited, imagining crying with his imagined friend. The little Raeder from the Dodecanese region tells his imaginary friend Petrobus what more lack of bread crumbs for next winter?

Petrobus tells him not looking at him ..., just placing his palm-legged hellephilia on his other equal ...: Nothing you fear Raeder, God does not exist!. Now He and you are the same. You can lift the sphere of the flat earth with your arms and convert it into a healthy land of Milk and Kalimnos honey that runs with mud through the mountains of your Life turned into a new House dressed in a new house. In this way we will tackle the colossal heroic deed of our Vernarth in Gaugamela, the league in which we aspire to be lying on the grasses of Cibatus that awaits us. It would be better if it rains on the shoulders of its meadows!

Tobe continued / under edition

•
•

it is good that i was lying next to you
as you sounded your alarm.
quick and shallow hiccups
tiny gasping
shook the bed.
i swatted you
— 2:30 am


even more alarming when it stopped,
i crashed to life
half up-above you.

a nightmarish apparition of myself
a screeching, darkening
premonition of death.


your eyes rolled
your head
heavy ragdoll
I begged you
to wake up;
struck you,
screamed your name

and I focused intently
as, vivid surreal,
the reds and the blues,
streams and islets,
turned up violets
at some deltas
of the reds and the blues
of your face
and so i never even felt for your heartbeat.


much like in throes of passion,
the attempts to force
any inspiration
were my frantic lips
still breathing your name
against yours
cool, moist, and soft,
yet, this time,
unreceptive
to my pleading.
and i heard my disembodied voice
somewhere inside my hollow head
call help


This part hasn’t ended yet

Am I euphoric about the love I once had?
Or am I euphoric regarding the life I’m living?
In this present moment and time I am without,
My life surrounded that of an ocean of sad waves?

Arrant rocks feeling of swimming in the deep,
Blue sea,.
But in the end I am the canticle of the love
Love I had that I may neither have again?

Someday somewhere she may return to me,
The ardor for one woman and one woman alone,
Is this the emotion that one should feel in life?
When you fall in the declivity of fervor,

Oh dear woman of whom I loved and lost,
Hope linked and force merged now despaired.
She came like the morning sun with hope and love,  
Destiny I had so longed for a voyage of docility,


There now sets before me obsidian arid of islets,
This was my destiny and in it was my voyage,
Now left to wonder where my animus furtively is,  
And my longing for you everything sank to the,
Dregs of the abyss”
By AG 05/07/2018 ©

You were my own brand of summer and your love is the sunburn that will never soothe and heal.
Your kiss can pull the clouds away from the sun, keep the boats anchored down despite strong currents and bring the solstice in the middle of the monsoon.
Your view from the shore while you were testing the waters will forever be etched in the remaining islets of my heart so it will never be washed away.
The sun blazing at our final hours in the beach is a manifestation that I should wait for something I really want;
I wanted the burn and the blaze but enough is enough.
My skin, my eyes and my bones can only take in so much.
The pain comes in waves and I already forgot how to swim.
The memories are twelve feet,
I'm just about five and I can't even float.
After you left, I felt the coldness of all the final months of the year take me into their embrace all at once.
This is what winter must feel like.
It was the worst of all tortures, I only felt summer hours ago.
I was aching for your arms around me, you can't even begin to imagine.
You took that summer heat with you but I shall find it again, but not from you.
But how? Everytime I remember summer, I only remember you.
You are my summer.

I can't wait to call all these a memory—at least one I do not intend to keep.

Miserable Landscape
The scene I knew as child was undulating flat
and the ocean of straw that mirrored the sky, light
and dark, punctuated by islets of farms peopled by
folks who lived a life of conformity when not driving
to a town that sold ***** and gets sinfully drunk
scaring wife and animals, and skulking morosely in
the barn was looking for a bottle that is not empty.
The bottomless pain of silence and the message
that so and so had hung himself in the rafter and
Thinking if I have to endure another winter…
The wind always blew clouds hurried across the sky
nothing here, but the endless sulk off the hapless

i like how your eyes close.
voluminous quandary of
a naked rose.
the agony of the brine
beating through the night.

i like how your eyes swallow back
to smallness
and then open
like a gossamer flower in bloom.

i like how your eyes flicker
their transluminal joy - i like what they do to me - so quite a new and tender thing. under the ocean-liner of your skin and the waiting islets of your shoulders, there i am drunk underneath the twilight of your wide eyes, outwrestling pains, and then closing, outlasting the nightfall.

The vivaldian violin on
the sweet green grass,
the melodious moon
oozing sensuous bass,
'Tis a time drenched in
delicate honey delight.

On the luscious grass,
I swoon under the moon
as you, with a fine gaze,
send my mind to a maze.

The maddening wine
in your twinkling eye
invites the amorous vine
to rise high, up in sky.

As I see the ritzy river
embracing the rivulets,
lakes amidst lakelets,
islands around islets,
offer life in a new hue,
all in one fine you.

"Words from her are lucent to my drab,
She sees the shade of dun in my eyes,
It's her that makes my aura once again,
She procures all of the fears I have had,

The waves in my life were ever so halcyon,
She know how many times I’ve lamented,
And now has filled all my islets from darkness,  
Her proficient love has made me unabridged,

I was firstly resistant to her gentle touch,    
Her beauty piqued at my heart and soul,
She held me softly yet intensely,
Looking into her deep dark alluring eyes,

I was ever so quickly enthralled to her,
As her hand gently touches me with fervor,
We  deliquesced into each other’s arms,
Bequeathed we gave with complete dalliance"
By A. Guzaldo 07/05/2018 ©

When all is Ocean

I have been looking at the map on the wall
Most of our world consists of salt water
In time to come when the sea level rises
Britain will be a rock that steadfastly refuses
To join EU, and that is ok, since most of
Europe will be under the sea.
The far and near east will consist of islets
And Swiss will have a seaport.
If you think this will bring peace, you are wrong
They will fight over religion and fishing rights
And threaten war.
This reminds me, I have to learn swimming.

scotch and my self slouched on the couch
scotch and my self adrift in mental aether
islets of existence bubble on liquored eddies upward
as I meander through being

stay seated with me o' psyche of mine
stay sated with me ambition of mine
stay your acidic drivings esteem of mine
stay your laced dirge contempt of mine

and just be scotch and me
regally languid howsoever I sit
my seat is then throne for I upon
amber emperor embarking on omniscience

A long time graduate courtesy
Hard Knocks alum,
once again yours truly
posts reasonable rhyme
about shortest day of the year.

Two o'clock Ante Meridiem
nostri Jesu Christi
hour hand clock
sprung forward sixty minutes
round about same of month
every year, what a ***
er, an inconvenient truth
diverged from this chum
purposelessly manipulating a hold over
sans yesteryear doth drum

a sensation of jet lag
(with earth in the balance)
as if flying within time machine
at warp speed from
this station, where bumpy ride
invariably finds me
feeling a bit ticked off and glum
and in no mood to rhyme,
nor be leer re: cull
juiced barely tantamount
to gather scattered wits
sin tide, and express mood as *** hum

fortunate, this chronological
seismic shift nada wide, ah assume
nonetheless, mein kampf
cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics
comb pluck hated off jangling
black keys helplessly boom

fancifully drifting and boring
into quick ribald sand trap doom
ming an inducement for
emergency convoy, when pitched from
sea to figurative shining sea –
gram ma mother earth glum,
where live yik yak
(paddy whacked) wired vanguard

trulia tried optimism to hum
nonetheless, swallowed down
cream mated behavioral sink
her inert ashes boxed for mo urn eternity
like talcum powder went – me mum
bling bloviation, once
worth matchless peerage,
now pitched comfortably numb

lee into morass of temporary
confusion, where plumb
line delineating circadian rhythm offset,
when athwart pilot ***
man strait ting and bickering with
Gulliver's swiftly traveling
Lilliputians slum
bring within islets
of langerhans defiantly thumb

ming nose, where body, mind & soul
vampire weeknd viz a bully did cower
hence mister clock, who got
hijacked 3600 seconds per hour
experienced head, thorax and abdomen
diminishing in min (ute) power

wrought indistinguishable
Whitsuntide as sour
grapes imposing ill fitting sea legs,
which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace,
resoundingly grudgingly surrendered,
and back slid vis a vis American express
hiz fashionably late opinion
regarding space/time
continuum did devour

hypothetically yours truly
wallows, pinwheels, flails...
doubling over into singularity
attaining infinite mass
enroute to encounter blessed cosmic lord.

Black hole event horizon indeed
kept lock step as das joint mill hoard
sucker punched the REO bandwagon
of father time, whose riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic fractional second bored
quirky shenanigans toying with chronometers
counter point of view shifted
to oppose this minute accord.

Once again, yours truly
dishes out his regular dose
of literary gobbledygook
even Count Dracula
would not even bat an eye
nor give me his evil,
(albeit harmless) look
regarding feeble effort I undertook.

Don't forget hour hands
of clocks spring forward
sixty minutes 2:00 AM on
Sunday March 14!

Yes roundabout third eye blind -
doggone (con seeded)
melon collie month every year,
one garden variety ***
(inconvenienced truthfully)
precariously balanced
while tethered to Earth hoop fully
explains himself, hence following mishmash
divulged courtesy unnamed generic chum
purposelessly manipulating
space/time continuum hold over.

About 103 three hundred sixty five day  
increments elapsed since
United States adopted
Standard Time Act of March 19, 1918
confirmed existing
standard time zone system
and set summer DST
to begin on March 31, 1918
(reverting October 27).

Rat a tat tat doth lightly drum
upon mine sixty plus shades of gray matter
i.e., a sensation of jet lag
(with earthling out of balance)
as if aboard Monty Python's
flying Circus within time machine
at warp speed from
this station, where bumpy ride
invariably finds me
feeling ticked off and glum
in no mood to craft reasonable rhyme,

nor be leer re: cull (lyrical)
juiced barely tantamount
to gather scattered wits
sin tide, and express mood
as picky hewn *** hum
fortunate rising son, this chronological
seismic shift nada wide, ah assume
nonetheless, mein kampf
cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics

comb pluck hated off jangling
black keys helplessly boom
fancifully drifting and boring
into quick ribald sand trap doom
ming an inducement
for emergency convoy,
when pitched to and fro
hither and yon from
sea to figurative shining sea.

Graham ma mother earth glum
where live yik yak wired vanguard
trulia tried optimism to hum
nonetheless, swallowed down
reprising Tom Wolfe
("O Rotten Gotham — Sliding Down
into the Behavioral Sink")
her cremated inert ashes boxed
for more'n eternity
like talcum powder went – me mum

bling bloviation, once worth
matchless peerage, now pitched numb
lee into morass
of temporary confusion, where plumb
line delineating circadian rhythm offset,
when athwart pilot ***
man strait ting and bickering
with Lilliputians slum
bring within islets of langerhans

defiantly thumb nose,
where body, mind and soul
weeknd strength (viz a bully did cower)
hence mister clock,
who got hijacked
3600 seconds per hour
experienced head, thorax and abdomen
diminishing in power

wrought indistinguishable
Whitsuntide as sour
grapes imposing ill fitting sea legs,
which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace,
resoundingly surrendered,
and back slid vis a vis
space/time continuum did devour.

Black hole (sun) event horizon indeed
kept lock step as das joint mill hoard
sucker punched the band
(re: oh speed) wagon of father time,
who riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic energizer bunny
fractional second bored
quirky shenanigans
toying with chronometers
counter point of view shifted
to oppose this minute accord.

discombobulated, harried, and lobotomized
state of body, mind, and spirit triage.

Onset of dark shadows signalling edge of night
occurs earlier as the world turns  
beckoning, hinting, robbing passage
regarding days of our lives,
where the young and the restless,
plus the bold and the beautiful
exhibit variations on a theme
titled one life to live.

Within my figurative neck of woods
boughs bend forming roods,
where all across the United States
except Arizona and Hawaii
troubadoors festooned nsync
with generational matriarchs
wearing hoods remaining incognito
as identity guard of their broods
mare uncannily decked, and
tricked out as an old man,
usually in a white robe,
having a white beard,
and carrying a scythe
signify turning the clock one hour
at 2:00 AM eastern standard time,
hence birthing following
reasonable ridiculous rhyme.

Hour hands clock get set back
sixty minutes of Autumn
round about this same of month
every year, what a ***
er, and inconvenient truth
diverged from this chum
purposelessly manipulating a hold over,
sans yesteryear doth drum
a sensation of jet lag
(with earth in the balance)
as if watching Monty Python's flying circus
within time machine
at warp speed from
this station, where bumpy ride
invariably finds me
feeling a bit ticked off and glum
and in no mood to rhyme,
nor be leer re: cull
juiced barely tantamount
to gather scattered wits
sin tide, and express mood as *** hum

fortunate, this chronological seismic shift
nada wide, ah assume,
nevertheless mein kampf
cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics
comb pluck hated off jangling
black keys helplessly boom
fancifully drifting and boring into
quick ribald sand trap doom
ming an inducement
for emergency convoy, when pitched from

sea to figurative shining seven sea –
gram ma mother earth glum,
where live yik yak
viewed thru Tik Tok wired vanguard
trulia tried optimism to hum
nevertheless, swallowed (Old Rotten Gotham)
sliding down into behavioral sink
analogous to cremated ashes of late mother
once boxed, but long since scattered into eternity
like talcum powder went – me mum

bling bloviation, once worth
matchless peerage, now pitched numb
lee into morass of temporary confusion,
where existence not peachy keen plumb
line delineating circadian rhythm offset,
when athwart Jane Pilots' ***
man strait ting and bickering
with Lilliputians slum
bring within islets of langerhans
defiantly, haughtily and laughably thumb

ming nose, where
body, mind & soul Weeknd
viz a bully did cower,
hence (principal at Methacton
Junior High School) Mister Clock,
who got hijacked
3600 seconds per hour
experienced head, thorax
and abdomen diminishing in power
wrought indistinguishable
Whitsuntide as sour
grapes of wrath
imposing ill fitting sea legs,
which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace,
resoundingly surrendered,
and back slid vis a vis
space/time continuum did devour.

Black hole event horizon indeed kept
bottled up cosmic genie good Lord
and Taylor (swift) lock step
as das joint mill on the floss hoard
sucker punched the band
Reo SpeedWagon of father time,
whose riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic fractional second bored
quirky shenanigans toying with chronometers
counter point of view shifted
to oppose this minute accord.

Dodecanese Sunflower Raeder

From Patmos, hundreds of children could be seen hanging from the legs of the blue pelicans of the Dodecanese. Raeder hung with both hands over the jasper-plated iron hoops from the Greek "iaspis", which means "stained stone." It is found in hydrothermal veins, in volcanic rocks, and in sedimentary rocks. With their four webbed fingers they wore the amethyst rings for the housewives who celebrated Thanksgiving, and the celebration of the guidelines of Saint John that they were sent transported in a golden shoe peak. Generally there were more than five thousand who passed through the counties; they swallowed canonized water from the Ionian Sea, with its great advantage of reproducing seas salty water in fresh water to drink. They were taken to each house to fill their vessels and also during planting periods, they watered their farms in summer periods when it was scarce. With their golden brown plumage they raffled for the olive fields and the ***** vines of the Goddess Aphrodite. And with their white feathers they sprinkled the barley fields with vinegar and recently slain wheat fields on the feet of Petrobus, their pelican of dreams. From here all the recipes were born in all the regions when the Bread was depressed, without firewood and tears. Patmos has engraved on the legs of pelicans that plan every day looking for houses where they can get to take the Gospel to them. All the children like Raeder are accompanied by other blessed ones, to bring them the good news and the families were waiting sitting near the end of their social limits, when they were waiting for them in the afternoons as thanksgiving. They ate in the afternoons to wait for the children to taste Tzatziki; Yogurt sauce with cucumber and caramel with poppy and honey drinks.

The women received them in the apartments near their Gineceo, and right there they exchanged gifts that they brought from the Grotto of the Evangelist in Patmos. Children from the moment the expectant mother was known or suspected to be pregnant. They came quickly so that the cast did not have problems, they were considered a divine gift the only children, the first-born or those who were born to older parents, it was the privilege of these birthright.

Reckless is its popularity at the mention that appears in the Apocalypse of John, in whose introduction it is said that the author was exiled to Patmos, where he had his encounter with Jesus in the so-called Grotto of the Apocalypse, which gave rise to the book. The early traditions of Christianity identified this character with Saint John the Evangelist.

For this reason, the island of has become an important Christian pilgrimage destination; aside from the one in Hora, there are several more monasteries dedicated to San Juan, and visitors can see the cave where, according to tradition, it had its visions. The churches and religious communities of Patmos belong to the Eastern Orthodox tradition. Petrobus was more distant from its flights rather than knowing how to arrive in the mornings and at night after three, past the meridian, since here San Juan was in prayers for the holy animals that distributed their parcels to the Dodecanese families and surrounding towns. Raeder was the son of two farmers from Kinaros, who live in Dodecanese. They form this super boy who has a great affinity with the Petrobus pelicans. A kind of prodigal Zeus poultry that anticipated the wishes of farmers. His webbed pet was Petrobus. This super bird, resided in the San Juan grotto, and always recruited more of his kind to take them to the Dodecanese neighborhoods, the encyclicals that he promoted emeritus. The Saint ordered him to order and bring all the families in a Eucharistic tone. These birds were never deprived of flying because they had the gift of their living soul in them to transmit wishes of great fulfillment by order of the Saint, who worked with the beads of his rosary and did not leave any discounted olives.

Raeder, among all the chosen children with super powers. They would be distinguished to travel over the pelicans to Gaugamela. They, as a childish personality in each of Alejandro Magnus' Falangists, pierced with their replica odyssey the breaks that the Petrobus made for them. Even on the overgrown and disoriented ranks, leaving them exposed on the open flanks of the Achaemenides, their leather and wicker shields softening, the same without even being able to retreat and shelter.
In the Dodecanese islands the carmine morning dew that falls in its crystalline waters, sandy or gravel beaches, important archaeological remains as scenes to compete in athletic leisure is subjugated, he ran naked after the outfits that his mother had made, was overshadowed by crystalline Byzantine monuments and medieval architecture due to the long Venetian ******* in its mannerisms. What unites these islands is their history and their occupations: that of the knights of the crusades to that of the Turks, the Italian occupation to the Greek annexation with their volatile useless attire to dress.

Patmos is very popular with pilgrims since the time when one of the caves on the island of Saint John the Evangelist, a disciple of Christ, wrote the Book of Revelations, and Astypalea is the westernmost island in the archipelago and has architectural characteristics of both kinds. Dodecanese Cyclades. It is also related here in Kalavrita's Etrestles Novel in his victorious boast to Patmos, when he resorts after the reverie of the Laziko Dance that they hold on to the little finger and circulate in commemoration of the stripping of the rebirth of spring with La Sousta del Dodecaneso . These dances, generated on the infra-ocean floor of the Ionian Sea, generated the force of the ethereal emanation of Etréstles from Kalavrita by daring to put an Eclectic confrontation on the invisible portal of the Evangelist Saint John in his sacred basaltic cave in the Patmos archipelago (Koumeterium Messolonghi, Chapter 16 / page 114. Editorial Palibrio - USA)
  
In the Chapel of Ministers
They were seconded by the high representatives of Kalimnos, among them the curious immortal serpentine Raeder. Son of farmers, natives of Kinaros belonging to a group clan of six small islands and six small families. Some islets used to flaunt the genealogical beams of the Antigone challenges and documented inspirations found between Leros and Kalymnos in the east and the Cycladic island of Amorgós in the west. To the south is Astipalea, this group of islands is made up of Plaka in the west, Glaros, the two Mavra islands and Lebynthos in the east. Kinaros is accessible through the islands of Amorgós or Kálimnos by wooden architecture boats.

Raeder always got up before dawn and a petite blue Bonsai Pelican always appeared on the threshold of his window; called him Petrobus. In the mornings, he ran, beating this Olympic bird Petrobus in a quick dispute. Sometimes he could not say goodbye to his friendly bird, because he ran so fast that the days used to be weeks in a row, while Petrobus snorted through the skies with his wings of Hellenic Artificial Intelligence. With his hyper exhalation he moved large rocky cliffs, even moving and disorganizing the geographical nomenclature of these twelve polygonal islands of the Dodecanese.

The least known and uncontaminated are Leros or Pserimos, while Rhodes and Cos, the largest and most cosmopolitan islands, are the goal of migrant Blue Pelicans throughout the year. Before returning home, Raeder stretched out on the grasses sheared by the heels of the Petrobus migrants and their minions. In this dancing grass he could feel the dances with gag bread dancing on all the hips of the maidens of La Sousta by his arms. He ran after Petrobus in his golden mask and hung on the legs of his bird (Wings Mate), the art of flying with magical golden birds and his Ancient Antigone Mama.

When he sometimes flew by the feet of Petrobus, he thought...
Tierra Mía… a thousand times I will lift you up with my arms, don't hesitate my arms believe it…
Oh my revered Ionian, I will apnea to please you a thousand times to become your Ionic molecule ... Wind of Kalimnos himself ..., I will make the Oda flute that goes through the twelve pierced epitaphs of my ancestors in Dodecanese asleep of paroxysm in the chapel where I was baptized for the ninth time!
And by the fatuous lavish Fire I will put the ceremonial ribbon of the Sousta Dance in the siesta of the new migration of my transparent Pelicans….

Raeder says to Petrobus visibly excited, imagining crying with his imagined friend. The little Raeder from the Dodecanese region tells his imaginary friend Petrobus what more lack of bread crumbs for next winter?

Petrobus tells him not looking at him ..., just placing his palm-legged hellephilia on his other equal ...: Nothing you fear Raeder, God does not exist!. Now He and you are the same. You can lift the sphere of the flat earth with your arms and convert it into a healthy land of Milk and Kalimnos honey that runs with mud through the mountains of your Life turned into a new House dressed in a new house. In this way we will tackle the colossal heroic deed of our Vernarth in Gaugamela, the league in which we aspire to be lying on the grasses of Cibatus that awaits us. It would be better if it rains on the shoulders of its meadows!

Once again, yours truly
dishes out his regular dose
of literary gobbledygook
even Count Dracula
would not even bat an eye
nor give me his evil curse,
butta I avoid tempting him
courtesy fanged hook or crook
(albeit harmless) look
regarding feeble effort I undertook.

Don't forget hour hands
of clocks spring forward
sixty minutes 2:00 AM
in Pennsylvania and other states
bracketed within eastern
Eastern Standard Time
on Sunday March thirteenth!

Yes roundabout third eye blind -
doggone (con seeded)
melon collie month every year,
one garden variety ***
(inconvenienced truthfully)
precariously balanced
while tethered to Earth hoop fully
explains himself, hence following mishmash
divulged courtesy unnamed generic chum
purposelessly manipulating
space/time continuum hold over.

About 107 three hundred sixty five day  
increments elapsed since
United States adopted
Standard Time Act of March 19, 1918
confirmed existing
standard time zone system
and set summer DST
to begin on March 31, 1918
(reverting October 27).

Rat a tat tat doth lightly drum
upon mine sixty plus shades of gray matter
i.e., a sensation of jet lag
(with earthling out of balance -
an inconvenient truth)
as if aboard Herbert George Wells,
time machine – and trapped
within The War of the Worlds
impossible mission to escape
at warp speed from
this horrid station, where bumpy ride
invariably finds me
feeling ticked off and glum
in no mood to craft reasonable rhyme,

nor be leer re: cull (lyrical)
juiced barely tantamount
to gather scattered wits
sin tide, and express mood
as picky hewn *** hum
fortunate rising son, this chronological
seismic shift nada wide, ah assume
nonetheless, mein kampf
cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics

comb pluck hated off jangling
black keys helplessly boom
fancifully drifting and boring
into quick ribald sand trap doom
ming an inducement
for emergency convoy,
when pitched to and fro
hither and yon from
sea to figurative shining sea.

Graham ma mother earth glum
where live yik yak wired vanguard
trulia tried optimism to hum
nonetheless, swallowed down
reprising Tom Wolfe
("O Rotten Gotham — Sliding Down
into the Behavioral Sink")
her cremated inert ashes boxed
for more'n eternity
like talcum powder went – me mum

bling bloviation, once worth
matchless peerage, now pitched numb
lee into morass
of temporary confusion, where plumb
line delineating circadian rhythm offset,
when athwart pilot ***
man strait ting and bickering
with Lilliputians slum
bring within islets of langerhans

defiantly thumb nose,
where body, mind and soul
weeknd strength (viz a bully did cower)
hence mister clock,
who got hijacked
3600 seconds per hour
experienced head, thorax and abdomen
diminishing in power

wrought indistinguishable
Whitsuntide as sour
grapes imposing ill fitting sea legs,
which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace,
resoundingly surrendered,
and back slid vis a vis
space/time continuum did devour.

Black hole (sun) event horizon indeed
kept lock step as das joint mill hoard
sucker punched the band
(re: oh speed) wagon of father time,
who riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic energizer bunny
fractional second bored
quirky shenanigans
toying with chronometers
counter point of view shifted
to oppose this minute accord.

Hour hands of o'clock get set back
sixty minutes gaining extra hour of Autumn
round about this same day of November
every year, what a ***
er, and inconvenient truth diverged
from this wayfaring chum
purposelessly manipulating a hold
over sans yesteryear
(first implemented in United States
with Standard Time Act of 1918,

a wartime measure for seven months
during World War I in the interest
of adding more daylight hours
to conserve energy resources)
doth rat a tat tat drum
a plain sensation of jet lag
(with earthling in the balance)
as if flying backwards
within Herbert George Wells
celebrated time machine

at warp speed from
this station, where bumpy ride
invariably finds me
feeling ticked off and glum
in no mood to rhyme, nor be funny,
cuz I recall experiencing
exactly lxii previous instances
being forced to spring ahead,
when countless months before viz
Sunday March 13, 2022 at 2:00 AM

one twenty fourth of said day
surrendered to Father Time
finding yours truly juiced barely equipped
to cope mentally, physically,
and spiritually whipsawed tantamount
with impossible mission
to get smart and gather scattered wits
sun tide, and express mood as *** hum
analogous to coals (essence)
raked over me noggin

fortunate, this chronological
seismic shift nada wider I assume,
nevertheless mein kampf
cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics
comb pluck hated
brush against jangling
black keys helplessly boom
fancifully drifting and
boring into quick
ribald sand trap doom

mining an inducement
for emergency convoy,
when pitched from
sea to figurative shining seagram
defunct company name brand
once the largest owner
of alcoholic beverage lines in the world
nsync with Johnnie Walker Scotch
quite the ginned tonic he brewed,
where live yik yak
(going tiktok) wired vanguard

trulia tried optimism to hum
a lively Irish air, cuz I
(Bailey) of Bailey Banks & Biddle
the crown jewel scion
scion of a wealthy family
swallowed down sorrow
regarding cremains of mother
her inert ashes boxed
for more'n an (eat turn) eternity
like talcum powder went – me mum
Chris Anne her namesake

bling bloviation, emasculation,
insinuation, nomination, termination
once worth matchless peerage,
now pitched numb
skull into morass
of temporary confusion, where plumb
line delineating circadian rhythm offset,
when athwart pilot ***
dire straits found motley crue bickering
where Lilliputians slum

bring wherein Gulliver's Travels
landed me upon islets of langerhans
(endocrine cells scattered
throughout the pancreas)
defiantly, ham-handedly, liberally thumb
ming nose, where body, mind & soul
weeknd viz a bully did cower,
hence mister clock,
who got hijacked to Cuba
3600 seconds per hour

experienced head, thorax
and abdomen diminishing in power
wrought indistinguishable
Whitsuntide as sour
grapes of wrath imposing
ill fitting sea legs,
which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace,
quickly resoundingly surrendered,
and back slid vis a vis
space/time continuum did devour.

Black hole (sun) event horizon indeed
kept lock step as das joint mill hoard
Sucker punched the band wagon
of father time, whose riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic fractional second bored
pesky quirky shenanigans
toying with chronometers
counter point of view shifted
to oppose this minute accord.