A HUMBLE SUNRISE...

He perched on the boundaries of the fallen temple,
to feel the warmth of the morning rays.
He could feel the dampness of dew that surrounds him,
But on the rise of the sun failed to gaze.
As the birds chipped all around him,
He knew that his day had begun.
Though blindness shrouded him but never darkened,
As he felt beauty from the summers sun.
See no evil Mizaru.

A near by friend reached out a hand to guide him,
He chattered with joyous glee.
For he could marvel at the beauty,
A wonderous sight to thee.
Although his friend spoke gently,
Full of gratefulness that his eyes could see.
He was disturbed by the silence,
The loneliness then sparked to peace.
Hear no evil Kikazaru.

Another fluffed soul dangled closer,
Hanging upside down from a blossom tree.
He was full of wonder and amazement,
By the beauty that surrounded the three.
His ears could hear the chorus,
Of an awakening world that surrounds.
The burning dew now dispersing,
Evaporated from earthen ground.
Although he longed to speak up his excitement,
To his friends the trio they became.
Consistent mute and dumbfounded
He was greatful of friendships to claim.
Speak no evil Iwazaru..

Maggie Evans

if only it were a presupposition,
chicken and the egg,
i before the thought...
some say art and squiggly wriggly,
some say philosophy and crosswords
and establishing a rigid,
unmoveable vocabulary,
contending with: what if
the toils of Sisyphus were marred
by a ultra static boulder?
the toils of thought are hardly
the joys of rest, with authentic earning,
from physical labour,
but since the persistence of
slavery, the butterfly and the tornado...
i have to concede to the notion
of a vanity project...
         the proposition rests though
on cogito pre sum, non ergo...
not from a drop of rain
ever came a hurricane...
    wishful thinking...
    cogitatio est non ad continuum...
organic chemistry,
and the zenith of gastronomy...
because what is Roman bulimia?
men aside, boys and tiger moms...
came the leash an the gorilla
doubled-up on ape **** bonkers...
no Ottoman barber: nothing but
a mohican for: moi!
the comforts of a pension,
the doubled comforts of
the ***** and zizzy tele viz.
shtatwick 5pm Sunday bollocking
of: finally! the Everest of all things
                 mundane!
but it's not art when I say
that the proposition:
       I think, I doubt... I am...
counter?
   I think, I deny... others are...
    i "love"...
mizaru, kikazaru... iwazaru...
came a rigid vocabulary,
     strict and bite whipping
off of a cane...
                     yet the hot air balloon
terminology...
liberal this, conservative that...
hello my name if Bob...
  how did the world suddenly become
focused on a footnote
from the introduction
to Nietzsche's: human, all too human?
i. e.:
             the excavating proposition
aligns a precursor (thought)
with a cursor (probesein... statischsein),
yet the libra of extricates
lays foundation on:
    a cursor, without an authenticity
of a pre-cursor...
or rather, th cursor curates
stasis, rather than vehemence
of a said, definition ascribed to its
propagation...
potocznie:
when people say they are liberals,
or conservatives,
they do not express a thought
designated to satisfying an observable
liberal / conservative...
a mistrust in political agents
has become translated into
a mistrust of media agents...
and as such, both are byproducts
of a thespian over-saturation,
a mob-pop mono-kultur...
               sentences become like crosswords
when a rigid vocabulary is found...
the dust already settles,
on the rigidity of:
not the nostalgia of a time,
but that,  of a... naive idea...
counter to the delusion...
that the ontology of man...
is trans stasis...
                  as a proposition, within
the framework of the collected
arithmetic of ergo....
   cogito comes prior to sum...
         ergo, id est: subsequently....
but as a preposition...
      ▪cogito *** sum...
      thought comes *with being,
in that the simultaneousness is
intra-changeable...
    mutually exclusive...
                  rather than inter-dependent...
mutually inclusive...
   for all the artists...
and why would I suddenly
write you a Slaughterhouse 5...
   had I not stuck to the complexity
of chemistry, allowing myself
the remnant of humanity in me,
to say: and this is how you think
about stupid ****,
rather than do, even more, stupid ****?
and to think,
close proximity wording,
Heidegger, german existentialism
above the french,
and... whatever the hell
the anglo-impetus implies...
          chiselling at Chiswick
a prefix battling over milimetres
of meaning...
     told apart...
                luckily with
hard copies of books...
  people don't have the audacity
to leave comments...
      unless other the phone,
and not anonymous...
perhaps as members of a book club...
   the best introduction to philosophy
still resides with Bertrand Russell's...
let's face it...
   the man died with
the sort of schoolboy stamina
to regurgitate.

Mizaru
A mother without a son,
A son without a father,
And a family without a mother.
A smoke cloud raised and the universe cried,
While the rest of the world was holding an umbrella.

Kikazaru
A sister without a brother,
A brother without a sister,
And a child without a childhood.
Towns drowned in the rivers of blood,
While the rest of the world was sailing on a boat.

Iwazaru
People without a home,
Home without the people,
Is just a sand without a purpose.
Cultures got wiped from the books of history,
While the rest of the world was looking at the screens.

Humanity died and the world is left to the three monkeys.

what need of red, green and purple? is that a blind man's conceptualisation of colour? is that "colour": a priori? a man might see much of this world, and be astounded: but let him peer into what a blind man might hope to see.*

when a man with sight spells -
the blind man employs
a sort of "pseudo"-arithmetic -
but i wonder:
        give man sight and
allow him awe peering at a
pyramid: and the squandered
lives entombed in -
   no minor feat: i know -
or rather the freed mind from
making "necessary"
    arithmetic of
                     ⠸⠁⠥⠛⠓
          point being (laugh):
could you ever have the luxury
of a kametz (a)
     tzere (e),
                    chirek (i),
              cholem (o)
                and shurek (u)
   while also entertaining "braille"?
        hiding vowels is:
best study the eye without
it by concentrating on
   the language:
              but the blind man
would be turning in his
grave seeing modern language
so squandered
                 with emoji...
          yes and all that argument
for short-script -
about time we turned
    our peering into our
own ******* into mighty
           enigma machines;
to be blind is to also give
a homeric gaze into matters...
    but would i be amazed
more by the pyramids at
giza...
      or seeing LAUGH
           after the veil was
lifted on the matter
               of              ⠸⠁⠥⠛⠓?
i guess you could say:
building the pyramids
was a motivational tool...
but then again:
        some people do not
sharpen their eyes
  in order to sharpen the tongue...
while others sharpen
their tongue to merely
lullaby their eyes...
    mizaru, kikazaru,
iwazaru...
      then the fourth:
   a living perspective on death:
kamizaru...
    of that said -
i have apparently made
a contract with the dead.