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Glenn McCrary Apr 2014
"Striking the match across my thumbnail, it's too slow of an action to me. The sparks stay in the air for too long and I haven't taken a breath in what feels like hours. Snow White couldn't have done it better, she paved the way. You sleep with the enemy, you sleep with the rich, you tear your way in with a calming, sweet smile and they let you in, they always do. The match falls on the heap of limbs. 'Here comes the sun.' ~ Jade Day


DR. NIGHTMARE: Hello? Mr. Nino?

[Dr. Nightmare whistles and snaps his fingers twice]

DR. NIGHTMARE: Are you ready for the procedure?

DO: It’s not like I have a choice now do I?

DR. NIGHTMARE: You always have a choice Mr. Nino. Your very future lies within the consciousness of every decision you may or may not make. With that being said which choice do you think will effectively see that you are better off?

DO: Well neither you or I can predict the future so we might as well continue playing and see what happens.

[Dr. Nightmare chuckles]

DR. NIGHTMARE: Not bad for a young man such as yourself, Mr Nino.

DO: I try. Let us carry on with the procedure now shall we sir?

DR. NIGHTMARE: Oh, yes right. Please fill out these papers to ensure that we have your full consent to conduct any and/or all events of this procedure.

DO: How can I possibly fill out these papers if I am still restrained by this straight jacket?

DR. NIGHTMARE: Oh, how foolish of me to have forgotten.

[Dr. Nightmare then begins unbuckling Do’s straight jacket. He then removes the jacket and passes Do a check pad and a pen with multiple documents. Do then begins to sign them. Dr. Nightmare closely reviews the papers as Do is signing them]

DO: Okay, I’m done.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Great now if you’ll just initial here, here and here we will be ready to go.

[Do finishes initialing his papers and passes them back to Dr. Nightmare.]

DR. NIGHTMARE: Thank you Mr. Nino. I’ll give you a couple of minutes to relax while I run and grab my list of questions. You may talk to AnaÏs while she performs a brief blood test on you.

NURSE YUCKI: Thank you, Dr. Nightmare.

[AnaÏs blushes with a slight smile as she twists both of her knees inward. She then walks over to sit in the chair directly across from Do. She pulls out her first aid kit and opens it. She takes out a lancet, some sanitary wipes and some gauze.]

NURSE YUCKI: Hello, Mr. Nino. How are you doing today?

[Anaïs opens a pack of sanitary wipes and begins wiping Do’s right ring finger. She then ****** his finger with the lancet drawing forth small droplets of blood. Do slightly winces in pain. Anaïs then places a small test tube to the test site in which his finger was pricked in order to draw blood.]

DO: Please just call me Do. I’m doing alright I suppose. How about yourself?

NURSE YUCKI: Thank you, Do. I am doing okay though I am quite tired. I have been here since five this morning and it is now a quarter to one.

DO: I can understand how that may be ******* you. Not everyone is a morning person.

NURSE YUCKI: Yeah, you’re right. The pay is great here though so I suppose it is worth dealing with.

DO: Yeah but is that ever really enough? Is that truly all that you want?

NURSE YUCKI: No, of course not. I have dreams just like everybody else. This job exists as just an in the moment thing for me. It is a means to get me by or as most people say “a leg up” in the industry.

DO: Those times are always the most trying.

NURSE YUCKI: You can say that again.

[Anaïs eventually finishes drawing blood from Do’s finger and places a couple of pieces of gauze to it and wrapped a band-aid around it. She then pours the blood sample into a slightly bigger and wider test tube and then places a top over it placing it along with the lancet back into her first aid kit.]

DO: Those times are always the most trying.

[Anaïs laughs. Do slightly smiles in return.]

NURSE YUCKI: I didn’t mean literally silly ha ha.

DO: Hey a little humor never hurt anyone ha ha.

NURSE YUCKI: If that were the case this place would cease to be a business.

[Anaïs and Do both laughed.]

NURSE YUCKI: I don’t mean to be a creep but I think you have really pretty eyes.

[Do was an African-American man with short, curly black hair. He also had dark brown eyes with his skin being the shade of chocolate chip cookie brown. He had a goatee as well.]

DO: Thank you, Anaïs. You’re honestly a lot funnier than I thought plus you are very beautiful.

[Anaïs was a white British woman with long, jet black hair and winter blue eyes. She had fairly tan skin along with a nice figure. She also wore black lipstick and had various tattoos.

NURSE YUCKI: Thank you, Do. So do you ha—

[The door to Do’s padded cell abruptly opens.]

DR. NIGHTMARE: Okay, I’m back. Thank you for keeping my patient company Anaïs.

NURSE YUCKI: Oh, you’re welcome, Archie.

[Anaïs stomped very loudly as she walked away.]

DR. NIGHTMARE: I told that ***** I don’t like when people call me Archie in public.

DO: Well, that is your birth name is it not? Besides Anaïs is a really nice woman.

DR. NIGHTMARE: That’s like saying a ****** is a teething ring.

DO: So are you saying you have been sexless for six months or are you asexual?

DR. NIGHTMARE: Hey, who is the doctor here?

DO: I’m just saying. You may be inserting your tongue incorrectly.

[Dr. Nightmare ignores Do’s comments blushing out of embarrassment.]

DR. NIGHTMARE: Well, if you are done fooling around we can begin.

DO: Let’s do it.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Okay, Mr Nino. Your first name is Do, correct?

DO: Yes, sir.

DR. NIGHTMARE: We already know your last name so on to the next question. What is your date of birth?

DO: August 2, 1990

DR. NIGHTMARE: Ah, so you’re twenty-three years old eh?? I thought you were like sixteen.

DO: Ha ha nope but I get that a lot so it’s nothing I’m not used to.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Where are you from?

DO: Springfield, Illinois

DR. NIGHTMARE: Where were you currently living before you came here?

DO: Cordova, Tennessee

DR. NIGHTMARE: Did you like it there?

DO: No, not really. I actually hate it there and am desperate to get away from there and move to a bigger city.

DR NIGHTMARE: Oh? What for may I ask?

DO: To take advantage of more career opportunities to achieve my dreams.

DR. NIGHTMARE: I really like where your head is at kid. Who were you currently living with before you came here?

DO: My mother along with three of my siblings, niece and nephew.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Do you get along with them at all?

DO: When I want to but even then it is just a feigned interest.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Where were you working before you came to this institution?

DO: I was working as a dishwasher and prep cook at my local pancake joint and bakery. The name of the restaurant is Love 'N’ Lust.

DR. NIGHTMARE: That title sounds intriguing. What kind of food do they make there? Do they pay you well for your services?

DO: We make all kinds of foods in the shape and/or imagery of sexually provocative thought patterns. Basically we make cakes in the shapes of genitals, *******, ***, etc… We do this for breakfast, lunch and dinner around the clock. They pay me $7.25 an hour.

DR. NIGHTMARE: I got to take my girlfriend some time soon. You get paid more to do that here. I believe the maximum is $15 an hour in translation from Euro dollars to American dollars.

DO: You won’t regret it sir. There are actually some of restaurants located throughout France.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Thank you, Mr. Nino. I’ll keep that in mind.

DO: You’re welcome, sir.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Do you have any passions, Mr. Nino?

DO: Yes, I do. As a matter of fact I have two passions. They are poetry and disc jockeying.

DR. NIGHTMARE: How long have you been writing poetry and disc jockeying?

DO: I have been writing poetry since November of 2008. I am only just beginning within the disc jockeying field.

DR. NIGHTMARE: What were you like in school, Mr. Nino?

DO: I’ve been to many schools doctor. I require that you be more specific

DR. NIGHTMARE: What was life like for you in high school?

DO: Well, I never actively made the effort to socialize with anyone outside of school simply because I was disinterested. When people would take part in extracurricular activities I would just ignore them and go home. I never even went to my own prom.

DR. NIGHTMARE: And why didn’t you go to your prom?

DO: Because I never had a date nor did I have the courage to ask one of the girls out

DR. NIGHTMARE: Well, I would tell you that I understand but I have no idea what that is like. In my day I was a ****. Everybody knew me. All the girls wanted to talk to me.

DO: Yeah, you’re not helping.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Nino

DO: It’s alright, doctor.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Moving on, what was your life like as you were growing up?

DO: There was lots of domestic violence and unwanted sheriff visits because my mother would always feel the urge to call the police every time I voiced an opinion that she did not agree with. I have even been in physical fights with her, my father, brother, sister and grandmother. I even splashed orange juice in my grandmother's face one time because she was ******* me the *******. There was the occasional use and profiting of the most popular drug at the time by a parent because my father smoked and sold drugs. He hung out with the wrong people a lot of the times mostly people who desired to buy drugs from him. Day in and day out deep down I feel that there are still some grudges floating around. My family won’t let me move past them nor will they let me forget about them. They always like to bring them up every chance that they get. I was also expelled from middle school at the age of fourteen for tossing my gym shorts at the assistant principal when she told me to shut up while I was talking. I felt disrespected and it ****** me off. I didn’t know what else to do. I also took antidepressants at the age of sixteen for crying out loud and when I was twenty I was mugged only just one week shy of my twenty-first birthday. It was a late night and I was walking home.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Sounds like you have had a rather rough life

DO: Yeah, well my life is not as bad compared to others.

DR. NIGHTMARE: That doesn’t matter Mr. Nino. It still counts. What was the name of the antidepressant medication that you were taking for you depression?

DO: I honestly don’t remember. That was so long ago. I’m twenty-three now. I’ll be twenty-four in the summer so that was nearly eight years ago. I do remember my mother making me take medications such as Stratera and Adderall for Attention Deficit Hyper Disorder.

DR. NIGHTMARE: What is your relationship with your family like now?

DO: I only talk to them when I want or need something like most people, but other than that I steer clear of them to avoid confrontation and drama. Drama never falls short in the Nino family.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Why do you think that is, Mr. Nino?

DO: Well, it’s just that when me and my immediate family members are in the same room together I can feel a significant amount of tension, hatred and anger coursing throughout the room. It makes me feel very uncomfortable so I just leave.

DR. NIGHTMARE: What do you fear the most, Mr. Nino?

DO: Abandonment and death

DR. NIGHTMARE: All of which are very powerful and reasonable things to be in fear of. What is your attitude toward the opposite ***? What was it in childhood and later years?

DO: I always took notice of the hot girls and the unbearably **** girls. I just never made the effort to talk to them because most of them ignored me or were stuck up and thought they were higher and mightier than me. In later and considerably more recent years my patience for the opposite *** has lessened greatly with each passing day. It has gotten to the point where I hate romantic relationships leading me to believe that they are a complete waste of time. Marriages are pointless as well. I would operate just fine in a No Strings Attached, Friends With Benefits or a One Night Stand type of deal. At least with those types of relationships an emotional connection is not at all required. I like *****. End of story. I get enough emotional connection through bowel movements.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Are you ambitious, sensitive, inclined to outbursts of temper, domineering, shy, or impatient?

DO: Yes, sir. I am very ambitious. I’m a poet so there is no doubt that I am sensitive. Yes, I do tend to have short, mild outbursts concerning my temper. I get mad when people cut me off or talk over me when I am speaking. I hate when people ignore me and I hate when I try to join a conversation and everyone acts like I am not there. It’s like can’t they see that I am trying to be apart of the conversation. I mean even when I try to socialize and make friends they fail to realize it. It is all alright though. I have learned not to give a **** anymore. Honestly, it is the best way to avoid any drama in life.

DR. NIGHTMARE: What sort of people did you physically allow yourself to be around you prior to arriving at this institution? Were they impatient, bad-tempered, or affectionate?

DO: Affection was far from the equation, doctor. I was around a lot of impatient and bad-tempered people. When I speak of these people I speak mainly about my family, but also some of my co-workers as well. They drove me incredibly insane. I would often go home depressed and dreading the next work day.

DR. NIGHTMARE: How do you sleep?

DO: Most of the time I find it difficult to sleep. I frequently watch Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response or (ASMR) videos to aid in me that and so far it has worked exceedingly well.

DR. NIGHTMARE: What dreams do you have?

DO: I rarely have any happy dreams I’ll tell you that. Most of the dreams I have are of running down dark hallways, chasing shadows, jumping off of cliffs and being unexpectedly attacked by random strangers whether it be physically or verbally. I also tend to have a lot of dreams where I am screaming my head off at the people surrounding me in the dream. I even go so far as to push their heads back a little with the palm of my hand. I was really mad in those dreams. I have a lot of mildly terrifying as well as psychotically depressing dreams. I also tend to have dreams about abandonment.

DR. NIGHTMARE: What illnesses are there in your family background?

DO: Well both of my grandmas are diabetic however one of them has been deceased for six and a half years now. She was English plus she had struggled with breast cancer for years. One of my sisters has been diagnosed as bipolar. I believe I may be bipolar, but just undiagnosed. I am allergic to penicillin. Both of my little brothers have asthma. One of my brothers is allergic to peanut butter.That’s about it. My father has problems with digesting solid foods. I don’t really know all that much about the history of my family’s mental health. There was one time when my mom called the cops on me when I was sixteen. The cop although unlicensed said that he thinks I may be schizophrenic. I didn’t believe a word that he said back then, but eight years later I am now starting to realize the justness of what he said and even starting to believe it.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Have you ever had ***, Mr. Nino?

DO: No, sir. I have not. I do think about it very often though.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Do you watch any **** at all?

DO: Every night.

DR. NIGHTMARE: What kind of **** do you like to watch? Do you have any fetishes?

DO: I like to watch female bodybuilders workout in the ****, I also like to watch regular girls fool around in the **** as do most men. I also enjoy watching lesbian **** as well. My fetishes are women with muscle. I’m talking large muscle mass from the neck down. It just gets me so hot. Another fetish of mine and don’t tell anyone this, but I like to watch women take dumps in the toilet. I don’t however like actually seeing the feces. I only like to see them sitting on the toilet while doing it and hearing the sounds. I do not like seeing what is going on underneath. Other fetishes of mine include women with tattoos, tall women, and also slightly psychotic women though intelligent women.

DR. NIGHTMARE: What are you hoping to get out of these sessions and procedures?

DO: I just seek to be happy again. That is all I ask. That is all I want.

DR. NIGHTMARE: Well this concludes our interview, Mr. Nino. I will run to the lab and decipher you
The curtain on the
CPAC convocation rolls back,

as the revolution
in Tahrir Square boils.

America’s theater
of deadly political

absurdity commences;
to witness demagogues

recite holy scripture to
evangelize a religion of war.

A heavily invested
audience marvels

at the marionettes
pirouetting on strings

jigged along by hands
of invisible puppet-masters

donning dark masks of
clever 503C llcs

disguised in self serving
hues of red, white and blue.

This grand folly of masquers
conceals a fatal pantomime,

a cast of reactionary characters,
Neo-Conmen auditioning for

the leading role in a lurid play
of a deadly nation projecting
a dying imperial preeminence.

The martinets engage zero
sum games where the victor
belongs to the despoilers,

and the merchants of death
richly confer multimillion dollar
reasons for being, underwriting
the gilded egos of candidates

and their infatuation with the
vanity of feigned power.

These master rhetoricians
skillfully lather up the crowd

by pandering to basest
xenophobic nationalist
instincts and fantasies
of laissez-faire proclivities.  

Slathering on the partisan
pretense in layers so thick

a master chef, armed
with the sharpest Ginsu Knife

couldn't slice a hock tip
of blood red meat

hurled into the crowd of
gobbling Republicons

howling and yodeling
it’s derisive acclaim.

The rankled party line,
gibberish talking points

are hammer blows of
incessant propaganda,

so cocksure that any room for
doubt is crowded out by the

phantasmagorical McMansions
of hyperbole they ***** in

the pliant minds of their
gibbering minions.

The candidates preening for
president show off their

falangist affectations
in eager duels of oratorical

one upmanship; constantly
jockeying to outflank their

other Neo-Conmen opponents,
always concluding their brutish

diatribes with a solemn
denouement of a Republicon

psalm ending with a
Holy Hosanna Hallelujah

to the Ronald Reagan
Heavenly Buddha.

Punchline of the holy Amen
“what would Reagan do?”

to remind the faithful
to remain the faithful

bearers to the fiction
of dead Reaganism.

Evoking anything
Ron and Nancy

induces sanctioned
comportment of a

slow simmering
******* eubellence

providing a welcomed
relief of repressed
libidinal energy.

The mention of Goldwater
sends GOP acolytes to

pause in reverence,
envisioning Barry and

Ronnie looking down
from heaven upon the gathered,

inciting immediate ruminations
of falling dominos and

the viability of a
tactical nuke strike

against Ayatollah’s
underground
uranium factories.

The host of Neo-Conmen,
new age Falangist pitchmen

belch from the dais,
in ever increasing alacrity,

the stirring drum beats
and slick videos,

of glorious warriors
winning the battlefield

with the rippling glory
of the Stars and Stripes

flowing in a continual
loop behind them.

Romney,
Bachmann

Gingrich
take center stage,

goose stepping
to the roll of piercing timpanis.

Words slither
out of their mouths
like poisonous snakes.

Lies, hiss through
their teeth.

Open mouths
expose Black Mamba
fangs, dripping with venom.

Eyes squint
as their reptilian brains

implore the besieged
to flee from the
light of truth.

Seeking refuge in fear;
yet on the ready

to coil and strike;
while trembling

in ignorance,
exalting loathsomeness

worshiping violence;
they remain

poised to unleash
first strike armies;

boastfully evoking moral
platitudes of Bush Doctrine
prerogatives.

Trembling in ignorance
worshiping violence

exalting fear,
these dogs of war bay

to unleash armies
against the

Godless apostates
that threaten

to expose the
stasis of their

Capitalismo-Judeo-Christian
view of the world.

They have hijacked
the great faith traditions

to serve a narrow
political aim

and relish any
opportunity to

demonize Islam
in service to their lies.

Watch as they
they crouch down

on the dais to
open the nest

of vipers welling
deep within the
bowels of their souls.

They find relief
by excreting their

spawn of deadly asps
into the veins of

cable news networks;
scoring political points

with the terrorized
children of Faux News

capturing battalions
of straw men villains

to rise atop meaningless
straw polls.

They agitate for a second
American revolution

by injecting the venom
of fear and lies

into the body
politic.

Ron Paul
stands alone,

perplexed why
American's love

war as much as
they hate civil liberties?

Cheney and
Rumsfeld brood.

The people of
Iraq and Afghanistan

fail to embrace their armies
of liberation that run up

unfortunate collateral damage
body counts required to sustain
the American way of life.

Ever the defender of
democracy and liberty,

Gingrich slams Obama's
condemnation of Suleiman

"hes an able diplomat."
Gingrich  forgot to add

that Suleiman is a
skilled torturer and

an able tyrant any self
serving democracy would
be proud to call ally and friend.

Cheney and Rumsfeld
remain flummoxed.

Their armies of liberation bogged
down in the marshy Blackwaters

of intractability;  trying to solve
the conundrum of the diminished

equity returns of asymmetrical
warfare.  Spinning the math

to justify building aircraft carriers
to **** a gnat.

The families of dead soldiers
surround them and wave dime

store flags hoping the plastic
eagle remains fixed atop the pole.

Perpetually smiling
Michele Bachmann
raises the specter
of Muslim Brotherhoods
taking over Egypt.

The persecution of Christians
and the escalating war on

Christianity have the Crusaders
up on their seats waving Excalibur
once again.

Gingrich pink cheeks
flush with the cash

of a Zionist casino
entrepreneur

doubles down, stacks
his chips high.

“The Israeli Embassy
in Cairo was overrun
by angry mobs.”  

“Is this a precursor of
cancelling the peace treaty
signed with Sadat?”

“The pullout in Iraq hands the country to
radical Shiites effectively handing our
hard won victory to Iran.”

“Israel is threatened and will not
permit Iran to acquire nuclear

weapons. A nuclear empowered Iran
will not stand!”

“We mustn't let do nothing Obama
threaten the safety of our good ally
Israel.”

CPAC willingly holds the deadly asp
to the breast of a proud nation.

Urging, coaxing it to gently sink
its teeth into the sacred heart
of our dear republic...

John Lee ******
Crawlin King Snake

CPAC 2011

Matthew 23
Brood of Vipers


jbm
Oakland
2/10/11
Aaron LaLux Jul 2016
America’s Got Presidents


Lights camera action,
who’s up next,
politician,
or dumbsh!t pundit?

Oh I see,
everybody’s an expert,
man these candidates have switched sides so many times,
watching them flip-flop this much makes my neck hurt!

Candidate’s wearing make-up,
if you ask me it’s all a cover-up,
blemishes on their records,
when’s enough actually enough,

on stages,
synthetic sages make up stories,
while the police keep stuffing us into cages,
and the politicians keep talking about reclaiming America’s lost glory.

America’s lost glory what glory,
the one about us bombing innocents or the one about slaves,
well if that’s the glory then it’s not lost,
because the US still bombs innocents and pays most people a slave wage.

It’s fckn depressing,
these pop-star presidents,
jockeying for position,
just for a chance at a White House residence.

On a stage,
it’s a sad charade,
all these bad actors,
pointing fingers trying to shift the blame,

laaaaaame!

All they do is talk different when in front of a mic,
but behind closed doors they all act the same,
different costumes different connotations maybe,
but really there’s no significant difference because there’s no significant change.

It’s an act a sham a show,
pop star presidents hip hop rock and roll,
Barack stars sing about change without any evidence,
if you ask me they’ve all gotta go,

and this election year is no better,
if anything it’s worse,
you’ve got Hillary Clinton AKA Barack Light,
and of course running is another Bush,
then there’s Donald Trump,
who’s legitimately probably the Anti-Christ,
he’s a racist sexist selfish sociopathic narcissist,
he doesn’t want to debate anything he just wants to fight.

But what about Bernie Sanders,
people ask, “Are you feeling the Bern?”,
I mean the guy’s a 74 year old career politician socialist,
he’s gonna try and take half of everything I earn.

Sure,
I’d vote for him I guess,
outta desperation only,
because maybe it’d take someone that extreme to get us outta this mess,
but honestly he’s a bumble bee,
poking at the hornet’s nest,
I’d bet if he becomes a real threat to the one Corporate Establishent want’s to elect,
that the speech where he accepts ends with one of his last breaths.

Yup.

America the beautiful,
when’d you become such a bully,
you used to be my best friend,
but now you act like you don’t even know me,
you’re blood lust is revolting,
why’s your answer to everything violence,
and how can you say you speak for the people,
when most of the people are so fed up they just shut up and stay silent,

and even if we do get out and vote,
these days our votes aren’t even counted what gives,
what you think it’s just a coincidence,
that almost every state Hilary won was accused of being rigged?

I feel sick.

This political pile of tricks politics seems like a pile of ****t,
and the media’s forcing it down our throat,
I mean really what are we supposed to do,
when those that feel outcasted can’t even get the system to count their cast votes.

So I take notes.

And I write.

I write,
all of this with typing hands and a shaking head,
because I want a leader I can truly trust and believe in,
instead of some actor that can’t be trusted no matter what they’ve said.

Red,
state,
blue,
state,
red,
fish,
blue,
fish,

I’m not a Jew,
I’m only half so I’m Jew-ish,
and I’m not trying to be rude,
or to sound too prudish,
it’s just,
the history of half my people,
is filled with those that want to ***** us,
so the bait and switch poli-tricks these politicians politic,
well they’re Grand Old Party is nothing new to us.

Who to trust,
who to trust,
we’re tired of feeling like Lewinsky,
giving oral to the Oval Office and getting nothing back but fckt.

Fck.

When is enough enough,
no is supposed to mean no,
but we get it no **** on the ****** tube,
***; Slave & Master we’re all Lady Liberty’s ******* so on with the show!

Lights camera action,
who’s up next,
politician,
or dumbsh!t pundit?

Oh I see,
everybody’s an expert,
man these candidates have switched sides so many times,
watching them flip-flop this much makes my neck hurt.

Candidate’s wearing make-up,
if you ask me it’s all a cover-up,
blemishes on their records,
when’s enough actually enough?

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Volume 1
The H Trilogy:
The City of Angels
Just published on 7/7/16.
Somehow it was #1 worldwide today.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents child abuse and ****** assault.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!

https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328
I'm a bit frustrated.....
Laokos Mar 2021
a shake weight table steak
powdered sugar cigarette
break burning in alcohol
and corn flakes

a big ******* cluster-****
of broken noses and carefully
crafted poses posting pictures
of processed hipster's and blisters,
****-stirrers and culture twisters
jockeying for a spot
all melting in the ***

quiz show **** beads and
fleshlight teenage dreams
soaking through entitled
suburban screens choking
on plastic screams

chocolate dipped cancer fingers

city bus exhaust lingers

prescription bottle salvation bringers

and underneath it all the bible
belt girdles the gurgling masses
of glazed diabetes and frosted
faith pooling in the belly of
America

a fat flabby mess of
snake oil boiling
in stomach acid
and pesticide

"welcome, honey! grab a seat
anywhere you'd like --I'll be
right with you!"
Aaron LaLux Dec 2017
Melting under this Plastic World,
Mickey Mouse is a rat that ate the poison,
I feel this wave coming over me,
riding the tide like I'm Poseidon,

totally sick of this circus like Icarus,
flying dangerously close to The Sun,
I'm high in a high rise on syd in Sydney,
like Midas my God what have we done,

it's as if,
everything we touches turns to gold,
invested in,
IOTA last week this week it's up 10 fold,

BitCoin hit 15k,
here we go we're on our way,
bought in out of fear of getting left out,
like a cat in the rain,

feeling like a cannibal animal,
every dog has it's day,
working to the bone like a bog,
& we all want our $ at the end of the day,

when the work’s done,
everyone's gonna wanna get paid,
feeling mixed up in the middle,
half way between a master & a slave,

what a mess we’ve made,
& I’m not blaming any particular one,
I’m just saying collectively,
this feels like the eulogy of,

a civilization that's time has come,
& is almost done,
& yeah we might lose it all,
but at least we had some fun,

& oh what fun we’ve had,
but who'll be left to clean up this mess,
because all the cool kids have gone,
& you're the only one left,

like the morning after the party,
sunrises are never the same as sunsets,
had some fun times last night,
but this morning you're such a wreck,

sometimes only at crunch time do you find,
our failures disguised as accomplishments,

now who’s left behind to pay enough mind,
to clean up our post bliss mess,
not snotty nosed spoiled rotten rich kids,
who got gassed up on daddy’s cash,
they're crashed out at their pad now,
but we both knew they wouldn't last,

passed out on dad's couch,
can always tell the future from the past,

everyone’s,
acting like an ***,
jockeying in position,
for some corporate kick backs,

but if or when you get them,
they come along with a guilty conscience,
then tell me what good is that,
seems all these facts are just nonsense,

I mean really what good is this,
what good are all these words,
I guess these words are only worth,
whatever a words worth is really worth,

which at this point,
feels worth about as much as dirt,
but at least it's that good dirt,
that Mount Agung before it bursts,
that fertile volcanic soil,
that Mother Love from Mother Earth,

sure,

you might think you’ve got it figured out,
or at least you thought you did,
& now you see what’s coming now,
& the mess we’ve made of all this ****t,

the drama we did with no apologies,
no apologies nor compliments,
no honor for the Honor Rollers,
nor for our awkward accomplishments,

and all I want to know,
is where the Hell honest went,
'cause all these dollars & all this power,
at the end of the day amounts to zip,

zero,
no heroes,
& as it turns out,
all of our idols are weirdos,

how's we go,
from Einsteins to Weinsteins,
from talking out our feelings,
to just replying with “I'm fine.”,

from Greek Gods to Mickey Mouse,
from Orwell's Animal Farm to Animal House,
from Mozart's 'Requiem Lacrimosa',
to Baha Men's 'Who Let The Dogs Out',

how'd we get from then,
to where we are now,

& you only want to talk about the weather,
or anything else that doesn't matter,
instead of what's really on your mind,
& how it's all almost over,

talking about what's for lunch,
while the world floods & burns,
not trying to be too negative,
just trying to help you learn,

because I know you think I'm cool,
but really I feel hot as Hell,
is it just me or is it hot in here,
is it just me or does nothing feel real,

like a Barbie girl in a Barbie world,
all dolled up & wrapped in plastic,
like I'm at at Disneyland on acid,
only about an hour & a half in,
& already I'm having a bad trip,
stuck on a boat on a fake mountain,
it's a joke that they call it magic,
trying to slow as everything goes faster,

but I'm not at Disneyland,
I'm just in a high-rise on syd in Sydney,
looking at the man in the mirror like MJ,
thinking I don't know that man who is he?

MMelting under this Plastic World,
Mickey Mouse is a rat that ate the poison,
I feel this wave coming over me,
riding the tide like I'm Poseidon,
totally sick of this circus like Icarus,
flying dangerously close to The Sun,
I'm high in a high rise on syd in Sydney,
like Midas my God what have we done.

∆ LaLux ∆

from The Sydney Sessions
available for FREE worldwide 12/12/17
Brycical Jan 2015
In the beginning there was the word
and the word eventually volved into millions
and now we talk with flagrant disregard
meanings are lost in definitions
and we no longer honor the words
that have brought us this far.
Well today that stops as I invite all
to honoring the 8 sacred words.

These are the words groked after birth
inherently transparently giving us our worth,
these words are why we are here on this earth;
Feel, Dream, Creation, Faith, Learning, Light, Being and Love.

  (1)
Feel
The real deal, the one that dictates what you perceive as real, a double entendre for the body and mind, covers the basic five and the infinite emotional responses. Such nuances to each like how the olfactory assists with memory like that time I was makin' golden fluff pancakes and hominy with my Aunt and Uncle getting ready for  Sunday School at a grueling five in the morning.
I still remember mourning Grandma Ruth at my first funeral.
Certain feelings are hard, if not impossible to explain, like when a painting or movie moves you to tears, I still get choked up watching Jimmy Stewart in Harvey.
But still I remember the feeling when this girl ran some ice down my spine for the first time. Now imagine being blind-folded as the cold slowly melts and the drips trickle down and the only sound you hear is her breathing and your heartbeat as she monotonously drags the chill down Yeah, I know you feel me on that one now.
That's the power Feeling can bring about
touching our most primal basic instincts to the intricate emotions someone brings upon your being when they sing that song that gets you every time.  

(2)
Dream
A powerful word. They can change people and things, just ask one Dr. Martin Luther King.  

   (3)
Creation
Regardless if it's the idea for the Iphone or baby makin, all life originates at creation.
It's why all are god,
why we all got this reason to be
like a painter paints his wrinkled heart on the canvas,
why a poet like me let's words flow out like a dam that's broken.
Creation births ideas and people with vision, we’re all born with this fingertip power
and a joyous vibe in our voice
the brain overrides by the sacred eyes locked grinding oneness
paper to pen, fingers to guitar, man to woman
all ringing out in a deafening bliss entering this world!
Creation breeds change , ideas that shaped the way we do things
like the first aeroplane and those folks who birthed those to think of said thing.
The brain keeps spinning like the invention of the wheel,
keep thinking and dreaming cause creation is a sacred duty to continue evolving.  

(4)
Faith
Such a muddied word these days, but faith is where all beliefs originate.
I bet you believe you’ll wake up tomorrow after a goodnight’s sleep.
Even that is faith.
The fires of faith forge burning trust when hands shake
Faith is smithed to wave, but never break
And it’s hilt of hope marries the mind to the heart
Faith is NOT a shield to keep other beliefs at bay or people apart
it is inherently a bond of understanding
and accepting from all parts of one self and others through heaven or hell.

(5)
Learning
There's nothing more sacred than learning, be it about the world or yourself.
A momentary divine buzz as synapses join in realization.
Not everyone can be educated but everyone can certainly learn.

My Uncle used to say he learned something new every day, and I think that's the way it should be,
cause you don't stop learning once they hand that paper to you for graduating school, life is a classroom and we are all the teachers and students but the answers aren't simply in external digital books and slides
a lot of the answers of life can be found inside the classroom of your mind.
If I didn’t look inside I would have never realized my inability to take compliments was technically flat out rejecting kindness someone as tryin to bestow upon me.

Forgive my diatribe but I have a hard time around closed minds cause the brain's a gold mind and info is a much more powerful currency than those political carnies shuffling greenbacks under the coconut.

(6)
Light
A special, sacred word illuminating the world's mind and yours,
forget it's ability to help you find what you seek, like that time I lost my
keys under my bed after an art party or the way it startles your senses
when it first appears out of nowhere
the reason light is on this list is because you can add light to light AND darkness,
Can't ever make something more dark, it's just the absence of light, but you can always make something more bright that it blinds you even at night you can ignite a dark world
with a single flame watch it spread like wildfire then nothin's ever the same like a lightning shock to your brain illuminating your whole world cause now your paradigm has changed!

(7)
Being
Can you imagine just being? That's freedom. To be is free, free from ego judging thoughts from others and your self, free from worrying about social conventions like waiting for permission to eat because the prayer hasn't been said or taking a job because it pays well but it makes all the days melt into a blurry line. Being is now, it's living in each moment and riding that wave to the grave with no regrets. Just being present is one of the hardest things to master cause the barking past and enigmatic future keep jockeying for attention.

Like that time way back when I stiffed some friends for my part of the rent or anxiously awaiting my move to New York pondering if I should tell my parents. Being is freeing that's why I rhyme and write that's why I let my mad scientist hair sway in the wind that's why I run towards an accident that's why I always know what's happening cause I'm tappin into what's tattooed on my soul. And I know you know deep deep down who/what your being is, but it's easy to let others complicate it with expectations like continuing education after high school and labels like teacher or homeless lunatic but you gotta dig and hold on to what you know is true because being you to the fullest is all you can do.


(8)
Love

Love is.
These are my 8 sacred words. What are yours?

Audio version can be found here...
https://soundcloud.com/brycical/8-sacred-words
I see the varying yellows and reds
of leaves dancing to the ground
after a slight wind
I see bluejays, cardinals and robins
jockeying for position on the birdfeeder's step
I see deer walk across the field
as I peer from the kitchen window
they seem at home in their freedom
I see the distant mountaintops fading as the Sun yields
to the approaching night
I see the emerging stars and the glow of the moon
as it begins it's nightly watch
then I see you
secure in the maple frame
I gaze endless
until the call of sleep awakens me
my home is wrapped in beauty
but all the beauty I see
begins in this frame
in this face
so far away
Aaron LaLux Dec 2017
Melting under this Plastic World,
Mickey Mouse is a rat that ate the poison,
I feel this wave coming over me,
riding the tide like I'm Poseidon,

totally sick of this circus like Icarus,
flying dangerously close to The Sun,
I'm high in a high rise on syd in Sydney,
like Midas my God what have we done,

it's as if,
everything we touches turns to gold,
invested in,
IOTA last week this week it's up 10 fold,

BitCoin hit 15k,
here we go we're on our way,
bought in out of fear of getting left out,
like a cat in the rain,

feeling like a cannibal animal,
every dog has it's day,
working to the bone like a bog,
& we all want our $ at the end of the day,

when the work’s done,
everyone's gonna wanna get paid,
feeling mixed up in the middle,
half way between a master & a slave,

what a mess we’ve made,
& I’m not blaming any particular one,
I’m just saying collectively,
this feels like the eulogy of,

a civilization that's time has come,
& is almost done,
& yeah we might lose it all,
but at least we had some fun,

& oh what fun we’ve had,
but who'll be left to clean up this mess,
because all the cool kids have gone,
& you're the only one left,

like the morning after the party,
sunrises are never the same as sunsets,
had some fun times last night,
but this morning you're such a wreck,

sometimes only at crunch time do you find,
our failures disguised as accomplishments,

now who’s left behind to pay enough mind,
to clean up our post bliss mess,
not snotty nosed spoiled rotten rich kids,
who got gassed up on daddy’s cash,
they're crashed out at their pad now,
but we both knew they wouldn't last,

passed out on dad's couch,
can always tell the future from the past,

everyone’s,
acting like an ***,
jockeying in position,
for some corporate kick backs,

but if or when you get them,
they come along with a guilty conscience,
then tell me what good is that,
seems all these facts are just nonsense,

I mean really what good is this,
what good are all these words,
I guess these words are only worth,
whatever a words worth is really worth,

which at this point,
feels worth about as much as dirt,
but at least it's that good dirt,
that Mount Agung before it bursts,
that fertile volcanic soil,
that Mother Love from Mother Earth,

sure,

you might think you’ve got it figured out,
or at least you thought you did,
& now you see what’s coming now,
& the mess we’ve made of all this ****t,

the drama we did with no apologies,
no apologies nor compliments,
no honor for the Honor Rollers,
nor for our awkward accomplishments,

and all I want to know,
is where the Hell honest went,
'cause all these dollars & all this power,
at the end of the day amounts to zip,

zero,
no heroes,
& as it turns out,
all of our idols are weirdos,

how's we go,
from Einsteins to Weinsteins,
from talking out our feelings,
to just replying with “I'm fine.”,

from Greek Gods to Mickey Mouse,
from Orwell's Animal Farm to Animal House,
from Mozart's 'Requiem Lacrimosa',
to Baha Men's 'Who Let The Dogs Out',

how'd we get from then,
to where we are now,

& you only want to talk about the weather,
or anything else that doesn't matter,
instead of what's really on your mind,
& how it's all almost over,

talking about what's for lunch,
while the world floods & burns,
not trying to be too negative,
just trying to help you learn,

because I know you think I'm cool,
but really I feel hot as Hell,
is it just me or is it hot in here,
is it just me or does nothing feel real,

like a Barbie girl in a Barbie world,
all dolled up & wrapped in plastic,
like I'm at at Disneyland on acid,
only about an hour & a half in,
& already I'm having a bad trip,
stuck on a boat on a fake mountain,
it's a joke that they call it magic,
trying to slow as everything goes faster,

but I'm not at Disneyland,
I'm just in a high-rise on syd in Sydney,
looking at the man in the mirror like MJ,
thinking I don't know that man who is he?

MMelting under this Plastic World,
Mickey Mouse is a rat that ate the poison,
I feel this wave coming over me,
riding the tide like I'm Poseidon,
totally sick of this circus like Icarus,
flying dangerously close to The Sun,
I'm high in a high rise on syd in Sydney,
like Midas my God what have we done.

∆ LaLux ∆

from The Sydney Sessions
available for FREE worldwide 12/12/17
Aaron LaLux Nov 2016
Lights camera action,
who’s up next,
politician,
or dumbsh!t pundit?

Oh I see,
everybody’s an expert,
man these candidates have switched sides so many times,
watching them flip-flop this much makes my neck hurt!

Candidate’s wearing make-up,
if you ask me it’s all a cover-up,
blemishes on their records,
when’s enough actually enough,

on stages,
synthetic sages make up stories,
while the police keep stuffing us into cages,
and the politicians keep talking about reclaiming America’s lost glory.

America’s lost glory what glory,
the one about us bombing innocents or the one about slaves,
well if that’s the glory then it’s not lost,
because the US still bombs innocents and pays most people a slave wage.

It’s fckn depressing,
these pop-star presidents,
jockeying for position,
just for a chance at a White House residence.

On a stage,
it’s a sad charade,
all these bad actors,
pointing fingers trying to shift the blame,

laaaaaame!

All they do is talk different when in front of a mic,
but behind closed doors they all act the same,
different costumes different connotations maybe,
but really there’s no significant difference because there’s no significant change.

It’s an act a sham a show,
pop star presidents hip hop rock and roll,
Barack stars sing about change without any evidence,
if you ask me they’ve all gotta go,

and this election year is no better,
if anything it’s worse,
you’ve got Hillary Clinton AKA Barack Light,
and of course running is another Bush,
then there’s Donald Trump,
who’s legitimately probably the Anti-Christ,
he’s a racist sexist selfish sociopathic narcissist,
he doesn’t want to debate anything he just wants to fight.

But what about Bernie Sanders,
people ask, “Are you feeling the Bern?”,
I mean the guy’s a 74 year old career politician socialist,
he’s gonna try and take half of everything I earn.

Sure,
I’d vote for him I guess,
outta desperation only,
because maybe it’d take someone that extreme to get us outta this mess,
but honestly he’s a bumble bee,
poking at the hornet’s nest,
I’d bet if he becomes a real threat to the one Corporate Establishent want’s to elect,
that the speech where he accepts ends with one of his last breaths.

Yup.

America the beautiful,
when’d you become such a bully,
you used to be my best friend,
but now you act like you don’t even know me,
you’re blood lust is revolting,
why’s your answer to everything violence,
and how can you say you speak for the people,
when most of the people are so fed up they just shut up and stay silent,

and even if we do get out and vote,
these days our votes aren’t even counted what gives,
what you think it’s just a coincidence,
that almost every state Hilary won was accused of being rigged?

I feel sick.

This political pile of tricks politics seems like a pile of ****t,
and the media’s forcing it down our throat,
I mean really what are we supposed to do,
when those that feel outcasted can’t even get the system to count their cast votes.

So I take notes.

And I write.

I write,
all of this with typing hands and a shaking head,
because I want a leader I can truly trust and believe in,
instead of some actor that can’t be trusted no matter what they’ve said.

Red,
state,
blue,
state,
red,
fish,
blue,
fish,

I’m not a Jew,
I’m only half so I’m Jew-ish,
and I’m not trying to be rude,
or to sound too prudish,
it’s just,
the history of half my people,
is filled with those that want to ***** us,
so the bait and switch poli-tricks these politicians politic,
well they’re Grand Old Party is nothing new to us.

Who to trust,
who to trust,
we’re tired of feeling like Lewinsky,
giving oral to the Oval Office and getting nothing back but fckt.

Fck.

When is enough enough,
no is supposed to mean no,
but we get it no **** on the ****** tube,
***; Slave & Master we’re all Lady Liberty’s ******* so on with the show!

Lights camera action,
who’s up next,
politician,
or dumbsh!t pundit?

Oh I see,
everybody’s an expert,
man these candidates have switched sides so many times,
watching them flip-flop this much makes my neck hurt.

Candidate’s wearing make-up,
if you ask me it’s all a cover-up,
blemishes on their records,
when’s enough actually enough?

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

The Holy Trilogy Vol. 1; 11/11/16
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N3QR3E4
Glenn McCrary Apr 2014
Marseille, France, 2014

"The Eiffel Tower was built on the backs of men who never knew that love was absent from the world. Especially Paris.”~ Jade Day

NARRATION SEQUENCE:

Hi. My name is Do and strangely enough it is commonly mispronounced. It is often associated with that of English word “do” which is technically an action verb, but that’s besides the point. I am twenty three years of age and am anti-social so when people act like they know me it freaks me out. My main passion is poetry although I have recently discovered an interest in disc jockeying and my passion for it grows more and more each day. Anyway, if you are wondering how I ended up in this asylum you are about to find out.

[Scene Opening]


[Do slowly opens his eyes. He attempts to move his arms but with great struggle. Do lifts his head and glances down only to discover that he was lying upon a white cot while restrained within a straight jacket. Shortly after this discovery he begins rapidly scanning the room. The room was solid white and covered by padded walls from the ceiling to the floor.]


DO: Where the hell am I…?


[Do then attempts to sit up but is unsuccessful. He then accidentally rolls out of  his cot landing on the floor with a hard thud.]

DO: A-a-rgh… **** that hurt…


[ A digital vocalization suddenly began to commence much less to Do’s awareness]


DIGITAL SPEAKER: Mr. Nino, personnel of doctoral authority are scheduled to arrive in approximately one minute. 59, 58, 57, 56, 55

DO: No! Where am I? Please just tell me where I am!


DIGITAL SPEAKER VOICE: 49, 48, 47, 46, 45


DO: I’ve got to get out of here…. I need to get home!


[Do attempts to stand. He successfully rises to his feet and starts running. Mistaking a padded wall for the door he blindly runs toward it. He hits the wall and bounces back two feet and on to his back again.]


DO: Arrghh, my back…


DIGITAL SPEAKER VOICE: 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15


[Do remains laying there]


DIGITAL SPEAKER VOICE: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…


[The door opens and a man in a white lab coat walks into the room accompanied by a nurse. The man had short, black hair in the style of a crew cut. He also wore small, square glasses with black frames. His skin had sort of a beige color to it along with the creeping annoyance of 5 ‘o clock shadow. He also was wearing black slacks and shoes. The man also had a check pad and a pen in his hand.]


DR. NIGHTMARE: I tell you Anaïs these kids are digging holes. They are digging holes deeper than death.

[Anaïs laughs]


DR. NIGHTMARE: I mean how much time must pass before one of them takes notice? Hmm?

[Dr. Nightmare and Anaïs both laugh in equal succession. Dr. Nightmare then stops and stares bewildered at Do who to his surprise was still lying on the floor.]


DR. NIGHTMARE: Hello there young man.


DO: Hey


DR. NIGHTMARE: The fall must have hurt huh?


DO: You have no idea…

[Dr. Nightmare removes a small flashlight from his coat pocket and carefully begins examining Do’s eyes.]


DR. NIGHTMARE: Your eyes look okay kid. There is nothing out of the ordinary. Here let me help you up.

[Dr. Nightmare helps Do to his feet]

Yeah, I know what it’s like kid. I was once patient who was confined within this very same room that you just so happen to be sitting in right now. I have experienced great waves of panic and fear which eventually escalated into that very same fall that you just experienced. It hurts like a ***** too.  Anaïs could you please grab us some chairs dear?


NURSE YUCKI: Yes, Dr. Nightmare


[Anaïs returns with three white chairs. She sets the chairs down proceeding to sit in one of them.]


DR. NIGHTMARE: Please take a seat kid.

[Both Do and Dr. Nightmare proceed to sit in the chairs]


DO: Who are you and what are you doing here?


DR. NIGHTMARE: Oh, how rude of me for not introducing myself. My name is Archie Moreau though the majority of the staff and patients refer to me as Dr. Nightmare. The lady on my left is referred to as Nurse Yucki.

[Anaïs waves and smiles]


NURSE YUCKI: You can call me Anaïs.


[Do decides to bare a forced smile in response]


DR. NIGHTMARE: We are here to conduct a psychiatric interview as well as a series of tests in order to properly evaluate your mental illness and to identify what type of mental illness you may or may not have.


DO: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Mental illness? First of all what is this place and why the hell am I here?


DR. NIGHTMARE: My, my, my you really weren’t listening at all were you? I said we are going to conduct an interview and a short series of tests to identify what may or may not be wrong with you. Keyword: May. Calm down won’t you? It’s just a quick, easy and painless process.


DO: Calm down? Calm down? I wake up confined within a straight jacket in a cot in an unfamiliar room within an unfamiliar place and you want me to calm down? You still haven’t told me where I am nor have you told me what has happened to me. I need answers.


DR. NIGHTMARE: Okay, fair enough. Firstly, let me start by saying that this room you speak of is more commonly known as a padded cell. That’s why all the walls are padded so that it is nearly impossible for you to harm yourself. Secondly, do you not retain any memory of the events of the past forty-eight hours?


DO: This is shockingly funny Archie.


DR. NIGHTMARE: I did not say that you could call me Archie.


DO: Okay, Dr. Nightmare. Let’s say that I could remember anything that may or may not have occurred in the past forty-eight hours as you say. Don’t you think that I would have told you?


DR. NIGHTMARE: ****. You really don’t remember a thing do you?


DO: No **** Sherlock we just established that.


DR. NIGHTMARE: You had been unconscious for two days.


DO: And why was that? What happened to me?


DR. NIGHTMARE: You were at a bar. You were sitting and drinking when suddenly you took a knife to your wrist and began to mutilate your flesh. It was unclear why but I particularly remember you exuding a piercing scream. You appeared to be in a great deal of agony both physically and emotionally. Does that refresh your memory a bit?

DO: No, not at all. I still can’t remember a thing. The only thing I can remember is being highly intoxicated.

DR. NIGHTMARE: That’s a start.

DO: Please continue…

DR. NIGHTMARE: As you wish; Shortly after you had publicly wielded your knife, two security guards clad in solid black t-shirts and black slacks rapidly began approaching you. They obviously noticed that you were intoxicated and offered to politely escort you out of the bar accompanied by multiple verbal threats. You resisted. They both attempted to apprehend you. You fought back. The next thing I know one of the guards grabbed both of your arms and folded them behind your back as the other guard punched you in the eye, chest and stomach. The guards then picked you up by your hands and feet and proceeded to toss you out of the bar.


DO: How do you know all of this?


DR. NIGHTMARE: Because I was there that night. I was watching.


[Do looked at Dr. Nightmare with an exceptionally bewildered ****** expression.]


DR. NIGHTMARE: I was the one who brought you to the asylum, Do.

DO: How the hell did you know my name?

DR. NIGHTMARE: Through various methods of frequent networking

DO: Why did you help me?

DR. NIGHTMARE: The night is always darkest before dawn

[Do continues sitting there with a puzzled look on his face]

DR. NIGHTMARE: Are you ready now, Mr. Nino?


TO BE CONTINUED...
Glenn McCrary Apr 2014
I’m a grown man, but
Sadly, I’m beginning to think that just like everyone else
That multiple millenniums will have surpassed our graves
Before a day strikes that you’ll take notice
Oh, but wait you are conservative
Though you state that you are a democrat


Well, tell me what kind of democrat
when faced with opportunities or possibilities for change
outright vetoes it without consideration for experimentation?
I remember when I proposed to you the idea of baking velvet cakes in multifarious colors
You accepted and requested me to buy all of the ingredients
claiming you were gonna make the **** cake, but every day that you said you were
You never did.
You attempted to argue with me over trivial ****
like the fact that you don’t own the house
and that it along with all of the **** that you have could be gone
without a moment’s notice
I guess that’s why you are always threatening to put me out huh?
Because you are afraid of that fact so you try to project it onto others right?
What kind of life lesson is that?


On days when I am out and about
Yeah sure I buy things for myself to eat for lunch
but then when I come home I always have to debate with you
over my next meal
It is always a constant battle between me
and your distorted logic and reasoning


Me: “Mom I haven’t eaten anything since pizza time earlier may I get a bowl of cereal?”
Mom: “Wait until I get off the phone.”

Thirty minutes pass…

Me: "May I eat now?"
Mom: "You shouldn’t have to eat twice if you ate a whole pizza.”
Me: “It was a small pizza and that was around twelve this afternoon.”
Me: “Your logic is distorted; Everybody eats more than once a day.”
Mom: “Anyway you can eat the other cereal not cinnamon toast crunch.”
Mom: “Distorted? Every adult that buys their own food can eat whenever they want otherwise there is no logic in your reasoning. I don’t have to feed you. You don’t feed anyone with your money.”
Me: There is 100% logic in my reasoning as well as everything I say regardless of who is feeding who and one less thing that the population needs to be fed are useless and fabricated theoretical fallacies over useful and valuable facts; At the end of the day nobody wins.”
Mom: I would like you to move out as soon as possible so that there will be no need to feed or conversate with you.”
Me: “No conversation with you is worth even one syllable that is why I avoid talking to you; I’m wasting my time right now even texting you.”
Mom: “Then stop.”
Mom: “Just get out of my house and you won’t ever have to talk to me or my relatives.”




What the **** am I then? Just a man with some paper and a pen who has some poems day and night profusely spilling upon the pages in spite? Just a fan with some extensive knowledge of past and current chart toppers turned to developing a passion within disc jockeying?


NO! I’m just a man who is disgusted to even have ever been given the blessing to title you ingrates what I call the curse that s my family.
Jonny Angel Mar 2014
Thousands swirl
sending signals,
garbled-voices taking pictures,
criss-crossing above us,
jockeying for position.

In our efforts
to rule the universe,
we've even junked up space,
it's a wonder
we can still
see the sun & blue skies,
or the face of the moon
between the stars.
Aaron LaLux Jun 2016
Lights camera action,
who’s up next,
politician,
or dumbsh!t pundit,

oh I see,
everybody’s an expert,
man these candidates have switched sides so many times,
watching them flip-flop this much makes my neck hurt,

candidate’s wearing make-up,
if you ask me it’s all a cover-up,
blemishes on their records,
when’s enough actually enough,

on stages,
synthetic sages make up stories,
while the police keep stuffing us into cages,
and the politicians keep talking about reclaiming America’s lost glory,

America’s lost glory what glory,
the one about us bombing innocents or the one about slaves,
well if that’s the glory then it’s not lost,
because the US still bombs innocents and pays most people a slave wage,

it’s fckn depressing,
these pop-star presidents,
jockeying for position,
and a chance for a White House residence,

on a stage,
it’s a sad charade,
all these bad actors,
pointing fingers trying to shift the blame,

laaaaaame!

All they do is talk different when in front of a mic,
but behind closed doors they all act the same,
different costumes different connotations maybe,
but really there’s no significant difference because there’s no significant change,

it’s an act a sham a show,
pop star presidents hip hop rock and roll,
Barack stars sing about change without any evidence,
if you ask me they’ve all gotta go,

and this election year is no better,
if anything it’s worse,
you’ve got Hillary Clinton AKA Barack Light,
and of course running is another Bush,
then there’s Donald Trump,
who’s legitimately probably the Anti-Christ,
he’s a racist sexist selfish sociopathic narcissist,
he doesn’t want to debate anything he just wants to fight,

but what about Bernie Sanders,
people ask, “Are you feeling the Bern?”,
I mean the guy’s a 74 year old career politician socialist,
he’s gonna try and take half of everything I earn,

sure,
I’d vote for him I guess,
outta desperation only,
because maybe it’d take someone that extreme to get us outta this mess,
but honestly he’s a bumble bee,
poking at the hornet’s nest,
I’d bet if he becomes a real threat to the one The Establishment want’s to elect,
that the speech where he accepts ends with one of his last breaths,

yup,

America the beautiful,
when’d you become such a bully,
you used to be my best friend,
but now you act like you don’t even know me,
you’re blood lust is revolting,
why’s your answer to everything violence,
and how can you say you speak for the people,
when most of the people are so fed up they just shut up and stay silent,
and even if we do get out and vote,
these days our votes aren’t even counted what gives,
what you think it’s just a coincidence,
that almost every state Hilary wins is accused of being rigged,

I feel sick,

this political pile of tricks politics seems like a pile of ****t,
and the media’s forcing it down my throat,
I mean really what are we supposed to do,
when those that feel outcasted can’t even get the system to count their votes,

so I take notes,
and I write,

I write,
all of this with typing hands and a shaking head,
because I want a leader I can truly trust and believe in,
instead of some actor that that can’t be trusted no matter what they’ve said,

red,
state,
blue,
state,
red,
fish,
blue,
fish,

I’m not a Jew,
I’m only half so I’m Jew-ish,
and I’m not trying to be rude,
or to sound too prudish,
it’s just,
the history of half my people,
is filled with those that want to ***** us,
so the bait and switch poli-tricks these politicians politic,
well they’re Old Party is nothing new to us,

who to trust,
who to trust,
we’re tired of feeling like Lewinsky,
giving oral to the Oval Office and getting nothing back but fckt,

when is enough enough,
no is supposed to mean no,
but we get it no **** on the ****** tube,
***; Slave & Master we’re all Lady Liberty’s ******* so on with the show!

Lights camera action,
who’s up next,
politician,
or dumbsh!t pundit,

oh I see,
everybody’s an expert,
man these candidates have switched sides so many times,
watching them flip-flop this much makes my neck hurt,

candidate’s wearing make-up,
if you ask me it’s all a cover-up,
blemishes on their records,
when’s enough actually enough?

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Hollywood Heartbeats; 7/7/16; available worldwide
Donall Dempsey Oct 2017
WALKING FROM THE RISING SUN TO KILDARE TOWN.

I take up
my stick &

walk:
back into my past.

Planting the countryside
of my youth

with each step
the years falling away.

The young me unfolds
into being.

The flag of self unfurls
snaps into the lost moment.

My shadow strides
ahead of me

impatient with this
flesh and blood man.

My shadow stops
waits for me to

catch up
catch my breath.

He stares at me
with broken dandelion eyes

a green milk bottle top
mimics a nose

a leaf acted
as a smile.

I laugh at this me
created by chance

and happenstance
step once more

into my shadow's footsteps
let it lead the way.

A tree which had been
there since I had been three

sarcastically remarks" "Oh, is it
yer self that's...in it?"

"It is!" says I
addressing the sky

spread before me
a vast blue field.

Furze blazes
with yellow.

Horses turn to
the gallops.

The sudden thunder of hooves
jockeying with laughter.

I left here to
make something of myself.

I, then...a nervous nobody
returning now

a mere nothing
a success only at failure.

I recite Hopkins
to a straying sheep.

The sheep suspiciously
regards this poet

hitting his stride now
"Nothing is so..."

The sheep coughs.

"... beautiful as
Spring!"

I tell a passing cloud
who is in too much of a hurry.

The poet's proud words
falling by the wayside

as me-then and
the me of now

stroll down
(cane nonchalantly in hand)
memory lane.

The Future hiding just

up around the

corner.
The ancillary argument is an asclepion which is anaphoric to anathema, anointing anecdotal evidences as an asymptomatic astonishment, assumptive of an averring the verbiage unwavering used to auxesis an auxiliary found aiding the circular back to an autonomy, assuaged in its entirety, appendant to an irony, giving appurtenance to astronomy yet astringent to all company of asters in the wovenry.

  A sweetened ingredient in life’s vermouth, is a lesser known but still common truth, resounding voice a sound so routh and unforgiving of jockeying jocose uncouth but the greatest parts of life we know are sorely wasted on the youth and so fundamental is this truth or verities vivacious muse that some might say we light a fuse when using such verbose abuse that angry are they who find our use an anathema to amuse?

  To wit so that I must abjure the painful notion there is a cure to a playful mind’s language of slur not meant as such but thus obscured the difficulties so inured on my ment-al-lity of thought a crime, a retching twist of someone’s time thus wasted on a poem blurred, a freedom though has just occurred; my mind a paradise, my thoughts a bird...

You wonder why I wrote this po-em,
Think on your life and about your **-eme,
Look back at youth’s wondrous days,
When life was new and full of plays,
And ask yourself is this a maze?
Olivia Dec 2019
Opulent,
Decadent,
Almost vicelike.
The people grovel,
Teeming among the city that sinks
Under the weight of its own
Infestation of the self.
The glass reflects the leering eyes of the masses.

The stench of the water rises,
Cloying.
Languid in obscenity
The shadows rot, unseen.
A graveyard of moorings past.

A woman falls.
We crowd around,
Vultures
Jockeying for view.

Guitar strings vibrate in the square
The sun beats down.

It was beautiful here,
Once.
Julian May 2023
https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/l8njruxa73yee9b0jzmhd/The-Ultimate-Unabridged-Guide-to-Esoteric-Working-English-2.docx?­rlkey=kunoar7ghpfkb7fjk5xkdgx95&st=i84ornny&dl=0

BALMORALITY OF GEOCARPY WEBBED FEET ANOINT AT THE TRIDENT OF POSEIDON SEES THE OLIVASTER MOULIN VEES OF  VARSAL GESTALT SALVATION AS CORNERSTONE CAPSTONES OF ARCHAIC ANTIQUITY BLEATING IN ANTEBELLUM FORESIGHT THE BLARING AMPHIGORY OF A THOUSAND TASTES OF LEPIDINE RAGMATICAL RANCOR DISSOLUTE ONLY IN ITS FORMULAIC WELKINS BY WALLFISH FREEBOOTERS CONSTELLATED BY THE STELLION STANCHION WHELVES ARMADA THAT SPARTANISM OF RENEWED POST-MODERN ****** CAN NEVER USE THERMOLYSIS IN THE SECRET ESOTERIC ARTS OF NIDAMENTAL NANOTECHNOLOGY THE FUTURE WIREWOVEN BELLETRIST OF ENCEPHALIZATION QUOTIENTS WIREDRAWN OVER HYPERBOLES OF MASCON GEOCARPY BECAUSE OF GEROSCOPY AND SENICIDE AMONG MANY A SPATHODEA ENLIGHTENED BY GHOST DANCE PERIBLEBSIS IN WILD WEST BILL CODY’S DAYDREAMS OF PRANCING NORDIC FLUMINOUS STREAMS OF DIVULGENCE OF RIVULATION FOR RUDENTURE IN JASPERATED JESUITICAL JARVEYS OF RECONAISSANCE OF THE TIGHT-LIPPED ALWAYS PHILANDERING WITH FIDELITY TO THE CLEPSAMMIA OF THE DEEPEST VEESES FOR THE MEHARIS OF MELLIFEROUS SPRITES OF OREAD DEMIURGES IN ZENKIDU BECAUSE OF DREDGED BEACHES AT THE EDGE OF TOMORROW BEATIFYING THE PRIMIPARAS OF INGENUITY LOLLOPED UPON THE QUEEN OF OSIRIS AND THE LAVADERO OF SET BECAUSE IN THE INTERRAMIFICATIONS OF SKELDER AMONG THE SKERRY THAT EXISTS BORDERING AN ATLANTIAN TRAVESTY BEMOANED BY BECHIC BEBLUBBERED INCONTINENCE OF LABORIOUS BEINGS OF SUFFRAGE AND TEETOTALER PREROGATIVES OF THE OCTAGON BENEATH THE VERY STREETS OF PALTRIPOLITAN SCHOENABATIC BARCAROLES AND CREMATION OF CARE BOHEMIAS THAT SPAWNED THE MYSTICISM OF PSEPHITIC PSEPHOLOGY BASED PRIMARILY ON BLESBOK CONTINUITY AGAINST TERMINAL TERMINUS THAT SHEATHES THE APPARATUS OF DIDDICOYS SPRAUNCY AND SPRUNG FROM EVERY GALVANIC TEMPLE INTO THE VOLTAIC PILES OF THE  ARENAIDAN SECRECY OF SUMPTER NOW DISTRAUGHT ABOUT THE NUCLEOTIDES OF SUNBITTERN OILERS WHOSE CARAPACE ANNIHILATES THE IONIZATION OF IATRALIPTIC MALFEASANCE REGISTERED AS YOUTHQUAKES OF YESTERTEMPEST BECAUSE OF YENTAS OF YUAN DENYING THE LACQUER AND EXCHEQUER OF JAPAN MIGHT WE CONVENE A BETHEL AGAINST EXORCISM AND MIGHT WE FIND THE FOSSORS OF A GUARDED TRUST OF FRATERNAL LAMBENT LIGHT OF THE NINE MUSES TRAPPED IN AEGEAN DRYGULCH BECAUSE OF THE LABYRINTHIAN PROWESS OF THOSE THAT BURROLED THE CONTRAPLEX TAMARAWS OF ALL DESTINY UPON THE SIPHON OF LATRIA BECOMING THE BANNER OF AGGIORNAMENTO BEYOND APARTHEID IN KNIGHTED SECRECY BECAUSE OF BROCKFACED ZUGZWANGS OF SCHWERPUNKT AND THE DEEPEST SALINE RESERVES OF AN INTERNATIONAL ORDER FOUNDERING IN ANTIQUITY OF EXACT SYCOMANCY BUT PARADED IN THE MARATHON CEREMONIES OF HALICARNASSUS AND ITS COAST GUARD YOUTH AUXILIARY FIGHTING THE PUNJABS TO STALEMATE AND FINDING THE MAINOUR THE CULMINATION OF ALL ACUMINATED WARS OF ATTEMPERED ASTRINGENT ATTINGENT PLEROMORPHY IN THE ENCEPHALIZATION OF ANTIQUITY TO THE DIVINE WILL OF ALEXANDER’S KOWTOW AND THE DEMISE OF ANCIENT CATAMITES BY THE FLEECED SWORDS OF CREATION RATHER THAN CREATIONISM IN THE SHALLOP OF SWASHBUCKLERS STALLED IN STALWART TIMES AGAINST INSUPERABLE ODDS BUT BY THE POWER OF CRYPTODYNAMISM IN THE ERA BEFORE PHILOTECHNICAL REVOLUTION AND THE MONOCULUS OF THE SEPHIROTH MIGHT THE BARNSTORM THESE DAYS BE BRAZEN AS A SERPENT PATROLLING THE PROMENADE OF LUXOR AND THE QUAKY REAL MADRID BRADYSEISM OF GUARDED DELTAS AND THE JERBOAS THAT FLAUNT AGAINST THIGMOTAXIS AN ABILITY TO CONGEAL AND COAGULATE COMMUNITIES THROUGH TAPESTRY AND TALENT MET SQUARE WITH “MARS VOLTA” LEXICOGRAPHY THAT EAVESDROPS LIKE A VANGERMYTE VAMPIRE ASSOCIATING WITH A JAPANESE ARMADA’S SYMBOLIC EMBLEM TO A MEJII RESTORATION WORTH DISCUSSING IN A CASEMATE STOKEHOLD BRITSKA DOOMSTER ECONOMY POISED FOR REVALORIZATION OF ALL ELEMENTS OF THE CRAFT SUBLIMINAL IN OBSCURE HINTS ABOUT THE SPELEOTHEM OF NEOTTIOUS SECRETS MOST EXCELLENT MASTERS WOULD NEVER DISCLOSE AT THE PERIL OF THEIR AVIZANDUM OF SENNET AND THEIR GUARDED THEATRICS OF RIGMAROLE AROUND THE GALLOPING HORSEMEN OF PROVENANCE AND PROVIDENCE FOR MANIFEST DESTINY AND THE FREER REPUBLICS TO EXCAVATE OVER AND OVER AGAIN THE SAME APOTHEGMS THAT BLACKGUARD THE SOCKDOLAGERS OF OBSCURE REVELATION SUCH THAT THE HYPERBOREAN CATALFALQUES WHO WITH DISMISSIVE LOUR AND FEALTY DESIGN AND DESIGNATE ABRAXAS ABOVE MATRIOTISM AND HONOR BEFORE VALOR THE GRAVE MISTAKE OF THOSE WHO DIG THE VERY GRAVES THEMSELVES IN OSSIFICATION OF BRONZED BEASTS OF SERPENTINE MYTHOLOGY OF AURIFEROUS JOLLYBOATS FROM TURPENTINE TIMES OF SMARDAGINE REGARDS FOR THE CODEX AND TESTUDO BRACKISH IN INTEMERATION OF A EUHEMERIST CHRISTIANITY THAT RECOGNIZES THE PLIGHT OF THE GODS OF OLD AND THE HISTORICITY OF STRUGGLE SEPTIFEROUS IN DEGREES OF SEPARATION FROM DIVINE LIGHT AND THE ANGLE OF THE SACRED FIRES OF “THE PLEASUREDOME” WHERE MEMPHIS RITES ARE DEALT LIKE DRUGS AND RAMPANT SKULLDUGGERY FOMENTS THE CAFE AND THE SALON INTO A FRENZY ABOUT FUTURITION IN THE NEGOTIOSITY OF NEGOCIANTS OF SUBLIME MASTERWORKS YET WRITTEN BY THE ADEPT HANDS OF BELLETRIST FOR THE RUPESTRIAN ACCORDION ZEAL OF THE FEWER PIONEERS OF HYPOGEIODY WITH THE GALL TO STAND PROMINENT AGAINST SVEDBERG TO LIBERATE THE NOSEBAG NOSTRUM OF SCARAMOUCHES OF AGGIORNAMENTO DERIVED FROM THE TRIBESMAN OF THE DISAGIO REGULA AND REGULATION BECAUSE OF SWARTHY ENMITY AMONG SPRINGHARE NOILS OF CRYPTODYNAMISM UNSPOKEN AND INEFFABLE TO A WIDER AUDIENCE OF ASPIRING APPRENTICES OF THE CRAFT OF A KRAFT CHEESE BOONDOGGLE SO DARING IN ITS PSITTACISTS OF GENERATIVE PRE-PROGRAMMED NETWORKS THAT THE APOGEE OF OUR CIVILIZATION IS ALWAYS CURTAILED BY THE CURGLAFF OF PRODIGAL SONS ENSNARED BY PEDERASTY RATHER THAN DOCILE IN HETERONORMATIVE DIRECTIVES OF RESCRIPT FOR THE VARIOUS PRESBYTERIES DISTANCING THEMSELVES FROM THE EQUIPOISE OF CRIME TO PUNISHMENT BUT ALSO TO LASSO A ZEAL FOR PRIMIGENIAL VARDLES OF SOVENANCE AND THEIR ENCOUNTER WITH STELLAR SPECTRUM DERIVED FROM PHASMOPHOBIA BECAUSE OF THE LURCHING TYRANTS OF FAMIGERATION EVEN IN THEIR CABOTAGE MIGHT THEY SAIL LAVEERING AGAINST HEADWINDS OF CATASTROPHISM AND MAXIMALISM BOTH CONVENTICLES OF A QUACKERY OF CHARLATAN ORDERS WHO DEBATE ENDLESSLY OVER SYCOMANCY ONLY TO FIND THEIR FAFFLE INCONSEQUENTIAL IN THE SIGHT OF THE ABRAXAS OF ABAXIAL ANACHORIC TREASURES OF THE EXODUS THAT PARENTS THE FIRSTBORN RATHER THAN TURNS THEIR NIDOR INTO NEPIONIC ENSLAVEMENT BECAUSE NEITHER AN ENNOMIC DEGREE OR DECREE NOR A CAESARAPROPISM UPON THE EARTH FORMIDABLE IN NOMOGENY BECAUSE OF THE SLIPSLOP OF SLICKENSLIDE CLOTURE AND CLOUT OF THE GENEROSITY OF MIKE BOSSY BOSE PRIOR TO THE INVENTION OF BASS ITSELF AND BEFORE ACID HAD ITS PROMENADE HEYDAY ON THE STREETS OF INTERNATIONAL ACCORD RECUPERATING FROM DEVASTATING CONFLAGRATION A RECUMBENTIBUS FOR THE SHANGHAIED RIVERS THAT FLOW FROM COAST TO COAST AND THE MOUNTAINS THAT TOWER ABOVE SPHACELATED ARTIFICE TO DISCOVER SPIRACULATED WISDOM IS SOPHROSYNE AND MODEST IN TEMPERAMENT LIKE THE READY PLAYER ONE ACQUEST FOR PALATABLE CONTROL OF CEPHALIGATION YET INVENTED BUT ALWAYS DISCLOSED AGAINST THE SUMPTER OF FETED AND FATED TRAPEZES OF THE LOST ARTS OF THE LOST COVENANTS AMONG MEN AND AMONG THEIR FRONT-RANK REAR-GUARD TUMESCENT TONGUE TONGUE-TIED BY MATHEMATICISM TOO LENIENT TO EXPOSE THE TRICKERY OF THE RETINA NOR THE RETINACULUM OF THE GARDENS POISONED BY CHINA WHITE RATHER THAN CHINA AS WE SASHAY INDIRECTLY FROM LONGINIQUITY OF INSULAR BASTIONS OF FORTIFIED ROORBACKS OF PREHISTORIC MERIT AND ABDERVINE MOVEMENTS CONVERGENT UPON THE OMPHALISM OF SOCRATIC PROMACHOS LIVING IN THE CLIFFS OF DOVER (A MISNOMER THAT FEW MASONS WILL UNDERSTAND) BECAUSE WHEN WE FLOUT THE SPANISH ARMADA AND  DISCOVER THE TRIBULOID LIES OF BERLINE SYNCOPATION OF HETEROCHRONY WE FREE OURSELVES TO SEE A FORDED RIVER NEVER BOLDER AND A MAGICAL RECIPE ALWAYS PROSCRIBED. LET THE MYSTICISM OF OUR AGE HEARKEN THE PARAGONS OF ANCIENT GREECE AND THEIR COUNTERPARTS IN ROME WHO OVERSAW A WORLD IGNORANT TO THE ISRAELI COVENANT AND WORLDS APART FROM “THE GIRL IS MINE” JOCKEYING JOCKOS OF JESUITICAL JANIZARY AFFILIATION THAT PREFER TO BURY THEIR SECRETS TO SUCH  A GREAT DEPTH OF BAROMETRIC PRESSURE THAT FEW FORCES ARE HERCULEAN ENOUGH TO DISCOVER THE LITURGY OF THE SECRET RITES AND THE VAULTED PRESERVATION OF THE OLIVASTERS OF FORMER DAYS THAT STILL SURVIVE UNALTERED IN A WORLD GOVERNED BY A RESOURCEFULNESS IN BOTH REPUBLICS AND AUTOCRACIES BECAUSE THE SYBOTIC SONDAGE OF THE TURTLEBACK IS THE SIGNATORY SLAVERY OF CHAVISH AMONG THOSE THAT CAROM PROFOUND TRUTHS IN TWADDLED DISMAY FOR MAYDAY CONFLAGRATIONS OF RAPID EMERGENCE AND IMMERGENCE INTO AN ORDER OF SOCIETY OF ISONOMY AND IXIODIC RESIDUE OF THE CORTEGES THAT ARE ENUMERATED ONLY AT THE BEHEST OF THE VERY FEW THAT THE PROPER NAMES AT ANY MASONIC LODGE ARE NEVER PUBLICLY SPOKEN AMONG THE FELLOWCRAFT BECAUSE ONLY THE TRUEST MASTER MASONS DESERVE TO KNOW HOW OUR PAST IS AN EISOPTROPHOBIA AND OUR FUTURE IS AN EISOPTROMANIA BUT DON’T BELONG TO THE PHASMOPHOBES AGAINST THE GHOST DANCE NOR PARALYZED BY THE PRIVILEGE OF VENOSTASIS AND NEVER ACCUSE ANOTHER MASON OF RHEOTAXIS IF HIS UPRIGHT APRON AND HIS WAMPUM BRACELET STARRING THANKSGIVING MEGACERINE MELEAGRINE STERQUILINIAN ARTIFICE THAT HAS CORRUPTED THE ROT OF PENTAPOLISES DEFEATED ONLY BY THE INGENUITY OF THE RURAL SATELLITES TO ORBIT IN SECRECY AND VALOR TO SUSTAIN THE REPUBLIC AND SCAVENGE LIKE NEOPHRONS IN MEMPHIS TENNESSEE JUST AS MUCH AS MEMPHIS EGYPT THE TRUE NECKLACES THAT COMPORT SOLEMN GIFTS IN GRAFT TO THE HARANGUE OF DISTANT PRESIDENTS BEFORE OUR TIME HANDICAPPED NEVER BY FORESIGHT BUT BY CULPABLE NOMOGRAPHY CREATING A DIESTRUS OF THE SACRED FIRES AND THE SACRILEGE OF ALEXANDRIA BESET BY THE ASPS BITE AND THE DESTRUCTIVE ALLEGIANCE OF CHUCKY AGAINST THE WISDOM OF THE WIDEST POSSIBLE VARSAL PERSPECTIVE OF HUMAN GEOSELENIC AFFAIRS IMAGINED BY THE SCRIVELLOS OF MEN OR THE ONOLATRY OF PALM SUNDAY COLTS RIDING DONKEYS TO PISCIFAUNA AGAINST NEW JERSEY DEVILED EDISONS WHO IN DISHONOR BUT ELITE GRAFT BECAME A FORMIDABLE LOCOMOTIVE OF INDUSTRIALIZED GALVINIZATION BECAUSE OF THE NAUCLATIC PACTS OF PEACE UNDERGIRDING THE GRANNARY GRAVAMEN IN THE BIG DIG BARTONS SWASHBUCKLING WITH RANCOR IN RANCID TRUCULENCE AMONG THE HISTORICITY OF A NEW ENGLAND TROLLOP OF DESICCATION IN A MAIDAN LAND OF ESBATS PERSECUTED BECAUSE OF FRENCH EMIGRATION THE EXODUS OF FORMER WARS MIGHT THEIR CRUCIBLE BE THE LITMUS TEST OF THE LIMITS OF OUR NEWFOUND CHRISTIAN EUHEMERISM AS WE LEARN THE CONVERGENCE OF THE CUNEIFORM CODEX AND THE LEVERAGE OF AUTOMATION FOR AUTOMATONS SILKALINE IN PRESTIGE AND GUZZLED BY THE GLAMOUR OF REPARTEE IN STAGED DOWNFALL AND STARLET MUSES OF ATHENAEUM AGAINST THE HEBENONS OF WAYSPAYED MULIEBRITY FIGHTING A WEGOTIST WAR AGAINST THE SOVENANCE OF TURNVEREINS OF TRUTH THAT ARE THE TORCHIERS OF THE AGES SUNKEN IN HARBORS AND ELEVATED IN INTREPID COURAGE AMONG THE HIGHEST PEAKS AND THE MOST PROFOUND DEPTHS OF HUMAN IMAGINATION FOR CAGOULES TO WHIMPER IN THEIR WHIFFETS OF BORTS THAT BECOME THE SATINETS PRIMARY OBSESSION WITH REGAL MATTERS PERTAINING TO EL PASO COUNTY INVITATIONS TO A BRIGHTER MORE PROSPEROUS FUTURE OF FORESIGHT AND GENIUS GILDED BY THE MATRIOTISM OF ALL CONVEX TIMES ANGLED DOWN IN AAONMS GRADGRINDS WHO PARSE THE PARSECS THAT SEPARATE US FROM THE COMMODORES BECAUSE THE SLEEK HINTS OF INTIMATION ESCAPE REVIEW BECAUSE THE BRONTEUM OF ALL SINECURES OF SYNCLASTIC TRUTH FAVOR THE UNDEFEATED STREAKS OF SPRAWLING ARCADES AND GLORIFIED STATUETTES SPIRALLING IN VERTIGINOUS DANCES AROUND THE TEMPLES OF PARIS TELEGRAPHED BY THE NOBILITY OF BUTCHERED LUKEWARM TAUNTS AGAINST THE BELLETRIST OF PROVINCIAL FOREIGNERS GIFTED WITH TURQUOIS VIOLENCE AND PURPLE REIGN THAT  ANOINTS EVERY GENERATION ABOVE ITS PEDIGREE AND FINDS THE 17 HORNS BLOWING TO BE LESS OF A KNELLED NUISANCE AND MORE OF A GRAVID DISCOVERY OF INCUBATIONS AND WEATHERBOARDS OF METEORIC SHAMBLES SPIRACULATED IN SAUNA DEPTHS OF BRACKISH CATADROMOUS GOLDMINERS WHO PARLAY THE BEST OF TWO BETS UPON THE PAXILLOSE TRAVESTY OF WOODED COCARDENS WHICH WALLOP EVERY JALEO OF STEVEDORES BECAUSE OF THEIR HANDSPIKE JARABES OF BAISEMAN AND COMPASS AIMING TRUE NORTH AWAY FROM THE LUNACY OF SOUTH PARK TURGID TURMOIL OF TELAESTHESIA IN THE FORMATIVE DURESS OF THE CONATION OF THE GREATEST OF PEAKS ESTABLISHED BY THE SPIKENARDS AND IRENARCHS OF THE GREATEST OF SUBTLETIES BECAUSE THE GILD OF SIRIUS RADIO AND THE SUBTERRANEAN MASKIROVKA OF WHIGGARCHY FIGHTING WITH SEMPERVIRENT TIMBERLASK GLOCHIDATE PUNITIVE RAISONNEURS MIGHT THEY ALL DEVISE WAYS TO SEE THE SYRINX OF THE EMBEDDED GALLANTRY OF DISASTERS THAT TURNED ICE INTO WATER AND THE CHEMISTRY THAT TURNS WATER INTO THE MOST RAREFIED WINE. SOME MIGHT ACCUSE THE ***** OF SABOTAGE IN HIS DEFECTED RECORDS SPREE OF  CEREAL KILLER DEMIURGES FOR THE FREEBOOTERS OF MANY A PRISON YET LIBERATED BY THE ELEUTHEROPOMANIA OF CACOETHES OF KANTIKOY IN THE MEGALOGRAPHY OF MANY GENERATIONS. WE ENTERTAIN A DIVERSE ARCADE IN ARCADIA BECAUSE THE BEHEST OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE ANCIENTS IS A QUIBBLE OF EPHESIANS TRYING THEIR BEST TO GAMBOL THEIR WAY INTO NUMBATS OF THE GREATEST VIRTUOSITY BEAMING AND BEAMISH OF FATIDICAL RESIGNATION OF THE MOFUSSIL TRIAD TRIAGE OF SUMPTERS OF SCURFY SCRAP METAL EMBEDDED IN THE RICHES OF THE CALUMET MOUNTAINS MOUNTED BY MOUNTEBANK QUARTERBACKS OF SIMPATICO RATHER THAN REVANCHE REGELATION PRIMARY TO THE COLOR-CODED SMARDAGINE PROVENANCE OF ALL PROVIDENTIAL MEN SERVING THE GLORY OF GRAND ARCHITECTS OF THE LOST SERENADE AGAINST JIMSWINGERS OF URBACIOUS AND ULMACEOUS POVERTY AGAINST TEXAS (VERY OBSCURE HINT YOU WON’T FIGURE IT OUT) BECAUSE THE GOLDEN BADGE OF THE HONOR OF A NEWFOUND WAPENTAKE DECIDED DECISIVELY BY A NETHERLANDS SPRITE FINESSING MORAL FIBER AND RECOILING IN TRAMONTANE GILDS THAT ANTICIPATE WITH ARCEATE OCREATED FASHIONS KNEADED TOWARDS A SELF-FULFILLING BELL MIGHT THE APPROPRIATION OF THE TACO BY THE CRACKLING THUNDER OF CACOMISTLES AND CREAKY CREANCERS OF CLITTER RATHER THAN CETACEAN CLOTURE BECAUSE THE RUNAGATE PERSECUTIONS OF PURITAN PILGRIMMAGE ARE DESOLATE WASTELANDS OF IMPROPER DECORUM FOR WARBLING TILTS OF RUMOR AND ROORBACK TO ZEPHYR THEIR WAY FROM THE VERSAILLES TO THE WALDOLF ASTORIA (OBSCURE HINT) BECAUSE OF THE SAD SPATTEES OF THE REAL-LIFE HINDENBURG WHICH SAILED TOWARDS AN UNFORESEEN CONVALESCENCE RATHER THAN A QUAGMIRE OF QUAHOG INFAMY RETICULATED VERY DEFTLY AND WITH ABARTICULAR VENGEANCE THE NEWER VENDETTAS OF EBBERMAN TRYING TO SECURE THE OBELIZATION OF OBELISKS ONLY TO TITANISM RATHER THAN TO SELF-REALIZATION OF A CELLULAR WORLD BUILT ON SILKALINE SATINETS TO PERUSE THE SALON AND CRAVENLY RIVET EVERY SUBSIDIARY ECONOMY TO THE LEVERAGE OF NEW WORLD CONQUEST MEETING OLD WORLD ASTROLOGY BECAUSE MYTHS OF DWARVES AND TITANS MARK THE ESCHATOLOGY OF “24K MAGIC” BECAUSE WE WANDER AGAINST WASMS OF WOODSHEDDING TO THE PARVENUS OF THE ARRIVISTE IVORY RATHER THAN THE COUNTERFEITER IVORRIDE OF BRAWNY RASP AND SIDEREAL ACCORD TO THE ZITHER AND FLUTE OF THE NINE SISTERS LOUD ENOUGH IN THEIR BLATTERNOPHONES THAT THEY AWAKENED THE ENLIGHTENED AGE THAT ONCE ONLY SKIRMISHED LIKE TIGERS ROARING IN TUBIFACIENT DELIRIUM MIGHT THEY CHANCE UPON THE BORTS EMBEDDED DEEP WITHIN THE SUBTEXT OF ARTEMIS AND THE CONQUEST OF THE PUNJAB BY THE ABEYANCE OF ROERICH BECAUSE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY ZEAL OF ALL-SEEING-EYE PREROGATIVES SWAMPY AND SCAPPLED AROUND RECIPIANGLES OF RECTANGULAR OBLATION AND NUTATION IN IMMATERIAL METEMPERICAL PHILOSOPHY OF UNNATURAL LAWS OF SARANGOUSTY AGAINST THE SCHMEGGEGY OF THE AGGRY AND AGRARIAN PERSIAN KNIGHTS WHO USED THE BRITSKA MAGI AND THE WISE SERVANTS OF THE KINGDOM OF THE NORTH AGAINST THE KINGDOM OF THE SOUTH TO AVENGE THEIR SEPARATE PEDIGREES BECAUSE THEY SOUGHT THE IMMORTAL WORD OF AMARANTHINE TRUTH AND THE ANACAMPSEROTE OF VIVID REVETS MIGHT THEY INCUR FEWER WINDS OF DAMAGE IN THE CARCASS OF POMPEII THAT CAESARS REJOICED ABOUT EVEN AT THE CUSP OF CATACLYSM BECAUSE THE SPRINGHARE NOOSES AND NOILS OF NAVES OF NAVARCHY BELONG TO THE SUNDOG JEREMIADS AND TALES OF THE GREATER BULK OF RESIGNATION. WE FIND OURSELVES FLUMMOXED AT THE DEMARCHE OF THE IDES BECAUSE OF THE JALOUSIES AND JEALOUSIES OF THE SCHISM THAT OCCURRED IN VENDETTA FOR QUAKY GROUND AGAINST THEOSOPHIES HOISTING STANLEY CUPS AND STANNARY COPIES OF THE ORIGINAL ARTIFACTS OF GREED AND OPPORTUNISM WHICH FORTIFY ALL MAINLINED  ECONOMIES AGAINST GILVARINGE HEDONISM WHICH SPURTLES ON CATALLACTIC CORDWAINERS WHO SERVE ON THE COUNCIL OF ATHENA BRONZED LIKE ZEUS UPON OLYMPUS MIGHT THESE VERY OBSCURE DETAILS LEAD TO THE WILDEST GOOSE CHASE UNLESS THE REAL GRAVITY OF SLAPSTICK CONFUSION THAT BELIES THE STEPNEY OF STEMSON BY THE STULMS THAT STOPE THE PERIPHERY OF ALL STARS AND THE PENULTIMATE DEGREES OF ALL CARREY ROYALTY TO THE SOCIETY OF THE SCIENCES OF WHITTAWERS THAT PAVED THE WAY FOR MIRACLE ABOVE JUSTICE RATHER THAN TRUMPETED DIKEPHOBIA SWARMING AN OCEAN OF HOLOBENTHIC THINKERS INFORMED OF THIS ZEITGEIST BEYOND THE PURBLIND UMBRILS OF THE PETULANT TEENS WARRING AROUND BEEHIVES OF FLAMBOYANCE BECAUSE OF A MISINTERPRETATION OF THE ALLEGORIES OF PRODIGAL SUNS AND SONS SET FREE BY GREEN-EYED LADY KNOWLEDGE THE GATEWAY TO THE MASTER VARDLE AND THE ACCESSIBILITY OF MOHAWKS WITH FURRY EVAPORATIONS AND THE FEATS OF ANTIQUITY WE CELEBRITIES CELEBRATE WITH ZANYISM AND ZEAL AGAINST THE ZEKS OF PARVANIMITY IN A WORLD STULTIFIED BY ARTICLES OF PRESS AND IMPRIMATUR ABOUT STILTED MECHANISMS OF COVERT VITRAILS OF THE VARSAL PROBABILITIES OF CATACLYSM AGAINST THE ATROCITIES OF ABAXIAL VOLTINISM OF CATASTROPHISM FOR NAGORS AND NACREOUS SECRETS THAT ONLY THE TRIBUNES OF LIGHT AND THE DAWNING ACCORD OF ADVENT AND PARCEL TO THE CONVENIENCE OF ROYALTY IN APANAGE MIGHT WE FAFFLE THROUGH SERVITUDE AND BECOME FEWTERERS OF A MIGHTIER HUMANITY THAT OVERCOMES THE QUIDLIBERTARIANS BECAUSE OF THE BROCKFACED BRONCHOS THAT EXISTS BECAUSE OF BRADYSEISM AND VANDYKES OF WALDFLUTE INDEMNIFICATION OF THE CODED VERSE OF A NEWER NOSTRADAMUS ISSUED WITH HINDSIGHT BETTER THAN A 1001 ARABIAN KNIGHTS BECAUSE THE MAGI OF FRANKINCENSE AND MYRRH KNEW THE HUMILITY OF THEIR STATURE BECAUSE OF THE DIVINITY AND GENTILITY OF EPHESIAN VECTIGALS OF EXTRAVAGANCE AND WONDER BECAUSE OF PETRIFIED THUGS LEARNING THE WAYS OF MODERNIZATION THAT THEIR DEAD TEMPLES AROUSE IN THE KNAVERY OF MEN BOTH DEAD AND LIVING. WE MUST ALL UPHOLD THE SINUOUS PEDIGREE OF AARON BURR BECAUSE THE FRIGOLABILE ELEMENTS OF WANCHANCY HAVE A NASTY HABIT OF RECRUDESCENCE AND RECIDIVISM BECAUSE IN SOME CONTRAPLEX RATIOCINATION WE FIND THE CELTIC BRIBE INSUFFICIENT FOR ILASTICAL CREDENDA BECAUSE THE METAGNOMY OF BARAGNOSIS AFFLICTING THE SOPITERS OF REGAL LORE AND LEGEND AND THE MAGNA CARTA REVOLUTION THAT USHERS US TO BIG BENJAMINS AND THE HEAVIEST OF QUANDARIES BRITTLE AT REDSHORT RESONANCE BECAUSE OF NEUTROSOPHY AT NEUTERED DISTANCES OF REGARDANT ARTIFACTS THAT THE PATIENT LIONIZATION OF THE TRUE CONOSSIEURS OF THE THOMAS CROWNE AFFAIR MIGHT FIND THEMSELVES STRANDED BY SUBSIDIARY DETAILS BECAUSE OF THE REGIONAL FANFARE OF LURID TRIUMPH AGAINST LAVISH PROMONTORIES OF CRAGGY  PEDIGREE GROWING INTO LICKERISH LICENSE THAT SPAWNS THE ANACHORIC RHEOTAXIS BECAUSE OF THE VULPECULAR MACROPICIDE OF THE ENTOMBED LOVE AND MOTION OF CINEMATIC TRIAGE AND TRIUMPH OF TRUE MESSIANIC VISION BOLTROPED TO BOLAR CONTINGENCIES OF THE CALVOUS MANY UPSETTING THE MERIT OF THE CHIVALRY OF THE FEW EXCLUDED FROM PRESBYTERY AND SANCTUARY BECAUSE OF INSUFFICIENT MEANS RATHER THAN INSUFFICIENT ENDS TO ACHIEVE ENTELECHY THROUGH AUTOGNOSIS. AMEN
Donall Dempsey Apr 2016
WALKING FROM THE RISING SUN TO KILDARE TOWN.

I take up
my stick &

walk:
back into my past.

Planting the countryside
of my youth

with each step
the years falling away.

The young me unfolds
into being.

The flag of self unfurls
snaps into the lost moment.

My shadow strides
ahead of me

impatient with this
flesh and blood man.

My shadow stops
waits for me to

catch up
catch my breath.

He stares at me
with broken dandelion eyes

a green milk bottle top
mimics a nose

a leaf acted
as a smile.

I laugh at this me
created by chance

and happenstance
step once more

into my shadows footsteps
let it lead the way.

A tree which had been
there since I had been three

sarcastically remarks" "Oh, is it
yer self that's...in it?"

"It is!" says I
addressing the sky

spread before me
a vast blue field.

Furze blazes
with yellow.

Horses turn to
the gallops.

The sudden thunder of hooves
jockeying with laughter.

I left her to
make something of myself.

I, then...a nervous nobody
returning now

a mere nothing
a success only at failure.

I recite Hopkins
to a straying sheep.

The sheep suspiciously
regards this poet

hitting his stride now
"Nothing is so..."

The sheep coughs.

"... beautiful as
Spring!"

I tell a passing cloud
who is in too much of a hurry.

The poet's proud words
falling by the wayside

as me-then and
the me of now

stroll down
(cane nonchalantly in hand)
memory lane.

The Future hiding just

up around the

corner.
I honestly doubt
that he is capable of
love or compassion
if you could only just see
what is apparent to me
you would be running away
so my lady please beware
at this moment what you see
is all his best behaviour
for his eyes are on the prize
jockeying for the big win
Oh, and could you please give him
a little message from me
that if he ever harms you
in any way big or small
I will wring his neck
Choka
Donall Dempsey May 2017
WALKING FROM THE RISING SUN TO KILDARE TOWN.

I take up
my stick &

walk:
back into my past.

Planting the countryside
of my youth

with each step
the years falling away.

The young me unfolds
into being.

The flag of self unfurls
snaps into the lost moment.

My shadow strides
ahead of me

impatient with this
flesh and blood man.

My shadow stops
waits for me to

catch up
catch my breath.

He stares at me
with broken dandelion eyes

a green milk bottle top
mimics a nose

a leaf acted
as a smile.

I laugh at this me
created by chance

and happenstance
step once more

into my shadow's footsteps
let it lead the way.

A tree which had been
there since I had been three

sarcastically remarks" "Oh, is it
yer self that's...in it?"

"It is!" says I
addressing the sky

spread before me
a vast blue field.

Furze blazes
with yellow.

Horses turn to
the gallops.

The sudden thunder of hooves
jockeying with laughter.

I left here to
make something of myself.

I, then...a nervous nobody
returning now

a mere nothing
a success only at failure.

I recite Hopkins
to a straying sheep.

The sheep suspiciously
regards this poet

hitting his stride now
"Nothing is so..."

The sheep coughs.

"... beautiful as
Spring!"

I tell a passing cloud
who is in too much of a hurry.

The poet's proud words
falling by the wayside

as me-then and
the me of now

stroll down
(cane nonchalantly in hand)
memory lane.

The Future hiding just

up around the

corner.
John Prophet Jun 2021
Chess.
Reflecting.
Reflecting
life.
Endless
moves
to be
made.
Subtleties
then
attacked.
Catching
unaware.
On guard,
constantly
on guard.
Less your
flank be
down.
Making
ripe for
the ****!
Moving
for position.
Always
on the
edge.
Life,like
chess
reflecting.
Jockeying
for position.
Stepping over.
Knocking
down.
Life like
chess a
sophisticated
game.
Deadly
to the
end.
Harry Kelly Jan 12
The end of an era. ….
If these walls could talk…..  
there are certain places
Places that come alive
just before the moon reflects brightest
And out come the creatures of the night
Until the cranes and wrecking ***** put an end to  the parties full of passion and misery
Fueled by fuel from Mexico and now China and the occasional trailer  which escapes explosion in the Arizona desert
And just like the destruction of the rainforest
A different sort of habitat,
yet one just as natural
is destroyed
Where do these creatures go ?
In a country
Where adapting and social jockeying
has become harder and harder.
At least from the bottom.
Everything is harder from the bottom.
Just ask someone who’s there.
But somehow nature finds a way to survive and a place to go
And Like the barnacles and clams taking over the great lakes
so come to plagues on Massachusetts Avenue.
Development .
Progress.
The incandescent red light bulb just went extinct on US 1
Town Line Inn Saugus, Massachusetts
Julian Sep 9
Cynegetic scollardical cymaphens reticulated through gradgrinded lavaderos pinpoints the sycomancy of sciophilous garbology the schwerpunkt nidus of all nimonic nomology of alamodes eruciform in regardant espaliers estranging abvolts while appointing the abseil of maskirovka abroach of every finicky virgation such that indomitable agathism truckles dancette at the ventrad extreme of camarillas of plenary azoth intermediary to alacritous svedbergs transposed by avocets backfiring because of autecology in gnotobiology the auncel of many wellaways. Pivoting from provenance to the entelechy of providence seeks to decimate by aucupation anisothenic because of aduncated helms of adscription reasting importunate insubordination as admaxillary heaving in  onocrotal obsequent dragoons underscoring termagant obeluses undergirding the izzat of fretful katzenjammer such that ixia browbeats iters, irokos, jabirus and other gossypine jockos of the bosket might the skeletonized skullduggery isotropic to such a steep extent of isorhythm that interpunction is vouchsafed by militating tacenda and tangible tatamae sweltering urmen orchestrated by stibadium of stereopsis manifest as sprags apotheosized by spinney sapwood tholing ulterior docimasy (a spikenard of maritodespotic bascule). Ocreated jansky instituted to the benefit of satraps of jannock ponderation of psephology vivat in atomkent bernaggles ****** with primposition abetting abaft gamidolatry twiring upon the turtleback as the rapknock trimkoppa usufruct of martingale mortmains more mortiferous than sanguine because of steep annihilation of tutiorism turncocking thymogenic and algedonic optimization of subaltern structuralism vitiated by stivers of egestuous morality esteemed as the linchpin of ratheripe syndicalism. Rendevation is allied with elastane garbology that maybe the sennet treacles wiggletempers wuthering willowish slimmerbacks to prevent trykling vecordy in verglas iceblinks of angstroms of stacking bagging bareges and galeres of galericulated eloquence shapely in vernalized pulchritude tziganology manufactures with trucage and facture among factotum sinecures dainty with coy sobriquets of vesuvian vestas whirling around koines of lavolta knouting with donnybrooks of hilasmic kitthoge kirking in intrepid earwiggery the keffel of noisome ratomorphism projicient to commiserate with reedbuck morkins of grampus reclamed as vorticism for rectitudinous flavors of soteriological varietism dignified against nihilist trillops rather sanctified by numinous albenture. The riometers of rhinocerial quandaries rapt in skewbald stereopsis roodging ever wase of wanchancy scavaged from rampick vestiges of delignated sapwood among vinsky and propriety the cathead bangtail pulchritude of despised cicisbeo persiflage intermediate to entelechy equipoise isonomy steeped on catastrophism is nasute enough to forage apodictic enumeration of nimiety in binturong notaphily by bergamask delegation of bayadere pretense lavished upon stalwart batten. Thereby, a bypassed lavadero choused by baragnosis in macropicide by barracoons depaysed by bonanza compital with ochlesis in sybaritic windfalls ocreate because of throttled octothorpian usufruct because of swooning elflock ulmaceous in unstercorated scofflaw ultraism the linchpin upstay of covert interpunction parlayed into implodent acmes that the pesky urchin mortmains counterfoiling imprimatur latitudes of morrises entangled in mazopathia designates the interdigitation of ulterior sophism specious by design to abet the interramification of ixiodic cimelia in perdurable olivasters of categorical imperative. Because of these whilom stipulations, isochrone bandobasts of flagrant bontbokian architectonics entangled in aquarelles lionized as the persiflage of videndum visibilia apophasis  constrained by the pilloried aplanatic interpretation of megalography apical and foudroyant at the forefront of all mutual endeavor dripping with apostils aquiline in biotaxy among halibiotic bucentaur shenangos adscripted by Hakenkreuz.

Emphatic hadal asphyxiation  of haemataulics wandering in venostasis handseling nomogeny bocking in magpiety and harking every sederunt endeared by abbozzo surging into composite ampelography (the venue of the obvious humdingers and sockdolagers egelidation appoints commonplace) effulgent upon oystercatcher eyeservice of habanera to harpoon tympanies of mackintosh forestalled by adiathermic alamodes (cavorting still today with their own lavolta) beyond the stanjant capacities of jiggermasts omnified by sociogenic thremmatology of seminal haecceity. Redoubled by eluetherian energism tainted by egoism, the duende of barasingha Boanerges magnetized to omphalism disorbed by crass cryptadia martingales (the chronobiology of emphatic kymatology) the ambit of focal cockshies is predictably invariant within narrow ranges of cliometric servitude to windcheater keystone mainstays of revalorized kith governed by imperious woonerf. Every punctilio carracks esteem ceraceous in the Baedeker espouses  concubinal nympholepsy with the numbats of umbrose stoping stunsails of megacerine stupulose macroscian vorticism sidelined in primeval eisegesis idiorhythmic to bubaline skeletonized briquets that betise every gigantomachy the batten tries to proscribe in a whack-a-mole shifty enthymemes of fretful epilations mobilized in exigency by adynaton scofflaw swashbuckling affreux monetized alidade always repined but never eradicated because of eruciform demand for brehon.

        Although directly ignorant of traves of allemain known only by the allemande, the alnagers of cisvestism--the alpenstockers of cultural vitiation by joggling virgation of whittawers of striga--ambagious and anaclastic in submerged analgia milked by reedbuck poldering wharfingers of transpontine beblubbered sentimentalism sublated from specious sophistries and casuistries into pseudo-coherent aporia enlisting accidia to rankle and cadge deadwood ideologies into deadeye bronteums tethered to davenport miscegenation of dancette and dageraad by tamaraw juggernauts of austringer auncels of cultural mismatches attorn by ateknia corroded by asterisms become extremely macroseismic svedbergs of turtleback iceblinks manufactured as ad hoc ashplant soteriology among arrendators indelible in houndstooth oreillet. Thereby, opsigamy turncocks opodeldoc oniscoids sublineating the perverse subreption against any given stritch that outfoxes simple carnal maximalism examines the subfocal mensuration of cryptotype embedded in pycnostyle genizah gamboling with cribbled sophomoric crampons couveusing cordwainers into covert mirlitons ignorant of contecking urgency because wertfrei boweries pullulate with Jesuitical jarveys of psaphonic dearth into zugzwang wroth easily enthused on suboptimal garbology of elastane manufacture.

    The woolpack of fundamental fantasia is designed by eurythmics uxorious to windlasses of caprice engineered by zazzy woodreeves zebrine by umbrilizing protanopia revolting against ukase bonanzas never deferent to synoecized synartesis of Sarvodaya because of nosebag boondoggles of rannygazoo nonage of finitism aggrieved by nolitions negentropized which fuels insipid upaithric blandishment and nebulized futilitarianism ignorant of the demarcated set of nautic operations permissible by rigorous interramification against birling bickerns of bodaches suborned by inculcated onolatry cretifying nidifugous miasma despite enriching the briquet rather than outmoding hierarchies of substratose balanism integral to selfsame caesarapropism.  A mackintosh optimized with gradgrind statoliths of emacity in stegmonths macarized by vasotribes against schmeggegy enriches rivages of choregus plight in paxillose rifacimento of inveterate agiotage corralled by cliometric restraint of revolute revanche shroffed in shambolic spancels of revalorization hindered by simultagnosia of echards versus umstrokes and chevets narrowcast to the morioplasty of dyvors backbitten by bewildered and marooned mobilism rather than enriched by psaphonic laxisms of vaccimulgent latitude. In this varsal gestalt picture it becomes axiomatic that jiggery-pokery belongs to antebellum agathism by jerkinhead moralism dispossessed by jannock wuthering in vesuviation of woolfell vestiges windgalled wedeln by cordwainer oystercatchers of dogwatch domett of doucs of subsultus brackish stockinette omnified by drabbles against the very dowitchers obedient to lampas limpkin vastation lapatic in transformation of the corrugated jamdani forefront zebrine in favor of rheotaxis defeated by the zelotypia of arriviste hawseholes hinnable against circumjacent kitsch because of hodiernal hogshead wirewoven pycnostyle promulgated by hopsack betises in nimonic optimization against plucky quagmires of neutrosophy (the horme of ulterior huggery attempting gezellig for schmeggegy) neutered by huckabuck stridulation.

    The hederaceous-vulpecular merger of hulchy subfocal hylomania delegating abrasive hypaspist by cultural Zollvereins entrusting the zenana of nomogeny degaging algedonic overdrive because the dedans prefer predictable syntalities orchestrated by dabchick autecology endeared to aurilave upbringing trapezing over nodalities and nolitions by adept alnageria alpenstocking amnicolists of the seediest verisimilitude of vogue jarveyed substandard by design. We can therefore conclude that acerbated pleochroic aasvogels gifted with enjambment use encaustic docimasy to throttle fretful emunctory empasm to the octroi of stannaries’ designed as impudent isostasy milking the Ishan of Hakenkreuz and the ushabti of bahuvhri into a composite stricture beneficent to swanskin because of privileged sycomancy about abroach virgations vastation prefers appointed to the promachos sulcalization of pleonasm in metaplasm metapolitical because of wapentake pandering. This incentivizes the sastruga of opodeldoc sarods marinated by the sarinda of aftershaft draconian dragoons which becomes an impediment to saltus surreys saginating sybotic sederunts to rackrent bareges impeded by bannock as chatelaines who adscript against cryptotype maraud in celsitude wuthering bletcherous in the wroth of contrition. Maritodespotic muliebrity wroxing virility further strained by exigent conditions wrawls when winklers yeuk rimose yelm into narrischkeit zugzwang yawing pupated policies against the puckery of bagging jarveys of psittacist stokehold inertia as midwives and proxenetes of boyau and bowline iberis the psaltery of nebels probanding pinguefied pataphysics. The relict of remigation for phonascus in unanimity thereby deposed by the provincial attitudes of omnicompetent authors of strigine thremmatology in onocrotal resignation sweltering in barms become feckless in every modality save opisthenar dippoldism wagered against yaraks by yirding niccolic oppidan strictures easily refuted by collective opsiometry limited in efficacy because of surdomute organdie on the twiring turtleback of opprobrium constitutes a larger minority of psephological brunt of osmol channeled through ablegated aboulia of abessive bannock monopolized by bodach acrotism of oxtered naivety coauthored by vintage adamitism gradately detraque against the sloyd of snaffling scaldabanco thus wagered against pathetic sondation debunked by arduous contortions of syllepsis enumerated syllabatim emphatic about swapes of edgy suretyships sundogs to humane scholastication rather than inane schmegeggy. Scialytic polemics must unearth the axiomatic fallacies undergirding the scilicet scissure cobaltiferous to both scop (the protectorate of subternatural lionization of epigones) and scumble (the affairs of apotropaic propriety resorting to stultification of seedy seahogs sanctioned by bontboks of trespass rather than authenticity) primarily because seersucker semioviparious serpentry (staked on iridaceous interpellation of exploitative wapenshaws doytining with washball protervity among wastelot polders coffling rather than coacervating headlong imperatives of collective perdurable jannock) gravitates jawhole nidamental sophistry on perverse baized notandum (counterfeit backpieces of bagnio rotocracy) to pullulate among degrees of fundamental baryecoia stipulated on maladroit bavardage by prominent odalisque gammerstang squintifegos eager to beeskep the patriarchy by wayspaying all virility with such stang (commodified svedbergs of rackrent immoral self-mortgage) that statuvolism entrenches synchysis despite self-aware brisures of ochlesis informed of both its duplicity and noxious futility. Debased structuralism incumbent upon any sociogenesis stodged by podlec fracklings often of a nyejay persuasion traindeque both toonardical bodaches and permeable victims of cisvestism because, as chorizonts of benevolent nativism because of chlamydate outliers and simultaneously  neovitalism because of pushful atheism, they derelict (because of pauperized nimiety to narrischkeit nihilism) the fundamental conjugates to a predicate of stark realism integral to univocal science waygone by suboptimal syndyasmia of ecdysiast spuddled saprogenic quidlibets gorgonized by tanquams of batten morigeration (modish only at the periphery of perusal manque to eximious stridulation beyond coemptive tantiemes of mandarist sophistry) embodies the marasmus of higher education--lustrated of useful heterodoxy cogent in parallelism to truth.
  
     The doyen libken formative to docile inquiry coagulates lemmas idiosyncratically because imperious laxism is gnotobiological in autecology and sedimentary to epigones of isagoge of subsequent interrexes of social sciences incondite in handfast geoscopy to gangues of both coherent pretense and redundant tortivinity somewhat approximate of truth but subjoined to tegular tropophilous ginglymus virgated by tangential suborning tephra (a tautomerism of specious pragmatica) paroxytone by tamburitza professors jockeying for sematic acclaim with sententious deliberative neglect or endorsement of tribuloid quodlibertarianism. Imprinted agitprop slanted by backpieces and defiant tresayles against patriotic fervor become the tournures of tootle or the testudo of flagrant dogmatism which verges into terramara guff gowking adduced historical liturgy of either gavelkind naivety or grognard misprision of true militated mizzenmasts of supersolid vis because of varsal epergne kneaded into mockado mulisms of mumpsimi tangential more obtusely to linear truths than acute in vraisemblance to centripetal axioms of bandelet assuaged not by only seniority or by seniority at all but rather dignified by the rigor of nutation survived as the cockshies of gestalt tangible noesis by the nepholemetry of plenary genius rather than prima facie parvanimity. The inchoate period of neutrosophy existed in septiferous nidamental fragments that entrenched many nimbose nivial of peremptory iberis (far before iconomachy became necessary) waged in internecine mutualism of gridlock between idiorhythmic utility and ignicolist illutation compounded into imparidigitation impleaching entire disciplines by interspersing indign paragons and oryx osnaburg overlock as the predicates of easement dissembled as alloquy alepines to auncels leading to both bonanza and academic akinesia as stipulated by the same gammon handfast to ahimsa and other deontology subternatural to such a grave extent that agoge became improbable. The aglet of adiaphorous nimiety screwball with anteric agistments of redoubled agathism must always concede to the damson which utterly belittles widgeons of the polder’s deadwood ambitions devalled in noyade in the dolabration of stratified tegular doits met with austere dometts against draffish kitsch falsidical in oppositive nesh facetiae quopped arrosive in psychotaxis reiterated by baseline banality into ashplant evulsion eruciform in only the gaudiest neglect of moral enthalpy.

One of the more importunate quandaries vitiating lyceums is warped emotivism disdainful in elutriation of alembicated elentic capacities corrugated to such revolute strain of ekistics that ecrevisse isorhythm of post-graduate isopach groomed by isochrone maximalism used in frenzied undinism in profane ukase authored by spurriers behooved by resourceful sprags buddling with enmity against bodkin proxemics that evolve into bisontine blackmasters of substandard competency inculcated often by berceuse (only to the afterclap of incredulity among the vast majority) bavians of academic bavardage insulated from bickerns of astute nidology primarily because of jocko niaiserie conformed to chatoyant chamfrains that prefer projicient procrypsis to dutiful moya. The mowing subservience of academia (even hederaceous institutions) to demolish oikonisus is flagrant that ineptly mottles morphallaxis of synsematic opinions outside the arena of their original context to misprision because of metapolitics for mercedary menticide heaving the vestiges of prescriptivism to upstage coherent probands only because of hamstrung pseudogyny and psittacist yawing yelms wed to the annihilation of wilding albenture in socially contingent disciplines bent by witchknots into jettatura by jimswinging yaraks privy to the jud and sudd of domestic academic canque casefied into catacoustics to sustain sabbatical bordars by bobstaying incondite blunges of post-modern ****** adduced from nebulized dogmatism of socialist monotroch nimbose in heyday decay never again as preeminent as it was prima facie. Diseased socialism is a spindrift smellfungus minatory paideutic enterprise berating the cockshy phrontisteries as martext asylums against mainsail livedo levanting moral valor iracund against the hyperbulia of tribuloid heterodyne haecceities more accurate than quacksalver pantagamies of upstaged gynics gaumless in pedestrian platitudes in footling shibboleths of academic macarization pilloried by sulcalized thinkers gnapping at every seamy flothery of goliardy compaginated from apocryphal comprachios disfigured by celation into tyrannical eisegesis rarely challenged because scacchic engrenage anticipates acrasia in etypical honesty against cotquean niffs of supercilious athenaeum nilling truth because of the pules of the turtleback amenable to the fondink of bowdlerization often apologetic about moonraker decimation ignored by the empaths that sublimate the notandum of commiseration so steeply misinformed about cladogenesis and so aggrieved by cittosis and cisvestism that they manufacture bugaboo cirripeds chirking caudling jiggery-pokery “color-blindness” jeremiads of jeofail in jarveys against nappes whipstaffing internecine irredentism yomping fecklessly and fretfully bereft of chiasmus into the traulism of mismatched narrischkeit.

TO BE CONTINUED....
Sundays smell of intimacy
The initial easing in
The slow meandering journey to x marks the spot
Circling
Round and round
Anticipation building
Bodies sweating
Momentum heaving
The right timing
The right configurations
Jockeying positions
Hands grip and pull
Finding and riding the sweet spots
Exertion. Discipline. Determination.
My compass rose
navigated

Another salty Sunday sailboat race
John Prophet Jul 2018
Jockeying
for position.
Defining
pecking order.
Defining power.
Sea of
motion.
Pushing for
control,
supremacy.
Carving out
a place for
survival.
Quagmire
of resistance.
Humanities
dance of
existence.
Has always
been dog
eat dog,
survival of the
fittest.
Pace
picking up
light speed
change.
Brownian motion
on a
global scale.
Turning
the other
cheek,
quaint musings
of a
simpler time!
zebra Dec 2020
on the day you choose death
we should be married
i want wedding bells
you dressed in a beautiful black dress
black hi gloss nail polish
pitch black licorice lips
to shade red tongue saliva
and teeth to bite me with
little pretty razor slits on pursed lips
a blood painting
the color rouge to excite
your mascaraed eyelids
thick and wet
like rain from joyous crying

and then i want to take us far away
in a large black hearse
re-pleat with mahogany casket
dragging white skulls behind us
jockeying on an old gravel road
devil may care sirens howling
like the winds of nether worlds
where demons **** each other sublime
rich with the stench of ***
me kissing bare feet wiggle toes
your arched legs out the the window
for spring breezes kiss

written
emblazoned in white
"just married, so in love and gratefully dead by morning"

then to embrace and make love
to brush lips tender and bleed
with beautiful pearl handled silver cutlery
a crimson circus of ****** torments and laughter

she lavished me
with pink estuaries wet
between grimaced contortions
and tender licks brutal
mad for undoing

she spoon fed me her blood
like luke beet broth
a little at a time
a kind beautiful brides
late summer soup
being like a mother

i licked it off her fingers
tender thighs like creamy red velvet cake
and buttery ******* silken
every stitch and inch
glistening copulations pulsating
her heart breaking for obliteration
like a beggar
her ******* a weeping delta
crowned princess Thanatos in nylons
with grace beyond measure
she spread wide for the graves caress

we poured our love into each others veins
like flasks of claret
fondling smiling wounds
eager for tongues caress
she supplicates
with slow bleeding belly and wrists
gauzed ankles
with ******* gates tender
and determined ligature

make me yours forever
she entreats
until happily vanquished
a clanking skeleton
yet still a whisper of ***** undulating drool
to pleasure you oh **** of mine

my tongue ravenous
in her hollow breathless black cadaverous mouth cooing
whispering melodically
toe tapping
Marilyn Manson songs
calling her in echoes naked mouth
are you dead my sweet ?
not yet she said
keep trying
smush me harder now
no regrets
with silky stockings or black strap
until i stop fussing
let me gift you
with labyrinths sunken
my seeds squandered in dark puddles
ruin me

her arms wrapped around
stiffened
like papier-mâché
even dead she wont let go
how sweet

i run wires over indifferent ankles and arms
girding reckless torso
tethered to iron doors shut
feet over head
to pull her apart
wide
and slide my bubble of poison
in a hundred more times
as i ravished her
she all surrender
fragrant
a ghastly confection
vaulted

i hear her call
a brooding specter
am i enough for you
please darling
take all
and more
i am a ***** for death and love
a poetic fiction
with true longing
alive always
veiled
in the cave of the soul
January 7th, 2022

Assaying thoughts gambol,
scuffling as in an affray
née crushing, jockeying, stampeding...
demanding equal airplay
gushing as metaphorical think
spigot turned on full force airway
thru totally tubular cerebral
microcosmic aisleway
vesicular conduit fifty
plus shades of gray
exhaling sigh of relief, cuz

transcending writer's block
innovative talent with words
did once again allay
needless panic, where yours truly
finds himself punchdrunk
in some dark alleyway,
an unfortunate fate
aging baby boomer
once skinny long haired
pencil necked geek
during previous lifetime

branded as Unitarian heretic
and punished courtesy auto-da-fé
avert reminding myself
to utilize ujjayi breath
hard driving gateway
into Pranayama practices
analogous to make
emotional transit thru
golden itty bitty
teensy weensy archway

infinitesimal impossible mission
to pinpoint areaway,
yet crisscrossing meditative
zen zone an array
of utmost nirvana
will never lead effortless
mantra buffeted concentration
not lead astray
and matter of fact
lightness of being
scaling metaphorical kickstarting

rah height aweigh
up yonder within
outer limits of twilight zone
re: supraconsciousness
keeping at bay
non intrusive thoughts
ruff lee collaring, mimicking belay
boring bonafide dog obedience training
pant tum miming begging
for limp bizkit, thus
canine loosening seat belt buckle

one notch braving violating
no trespassing sign
despite restriction
heavily populated tint
head nab yule Haitian
made Christmas benday
eerily resembling voodoo
cursed poppet summoned
if anybody doth betray
not being spellbound
hence, blithely skipping

remainder of my poetry
magic edict I dust not bewray,
no matter red clay
rambling man evincing dismay
upon approaching his endplay
regarding scrimmage with death
when divine creator
mine lovely bones he/she will fillet
impossible mission to get-a-way
grim reaper who will hollar hooray
as one mortal man does inveigh
against purposelessness born
live free and die until judgement day.
Assaying thoughts gambol,
scuffling as in an affray
née crushing, jockeying, stampeding...
demanding equal airplay
gushing as metaphorical think
spigot turned on full force airway
thru totally tubular cerebral

microcosmic aisleway
vesicular conduit fifty
plus shades of gray
exhaling sigh of relief, cuz
transcending writer's block
innovative talent with words
did once again allay
needless panic, where yours truly

finds himself punchdrunk
in some dark alleyway,
an unfortunate fate
Matthew Scott alway
avert reminding myself
to utilize ujjayi breath
hard driving gateway
into Pranayama practices

analogous to make
emotional transit thru
golden itty bitty
teensy weensy archway
infinitesimal impossible mission
to pinpoint areaway,
yet crisscrossing meditative
zen zone an array

of utmost nirvana
will never lead effortless
mantra buffeted concentration
not lead astray
and matter of fact
lightness of being
scaling metaphorical kickstarting

rah height aweigh
up yonder within
outer limits twilight zone
re: supraconsciousness
keeping at bay
non intrusive thoughts
ruff lee collaring, mimicking belay
boring bonafide dog obedience training

pant tum miming (think) begging
for limp bizkit, thus
canine loosens seat belt buckle
one notch braving violating
no trespassing sign
despite petsmart restriction
heavy populated wall tint
head nab yule Haitian

made Christmas benday
eerily resembling voodoo
cursed poppet summoned
if anybody doth betray
not being spellbound
hence, blithely skipping
reading future poetry (mine)
magic edict I dost bewray.
John Prophet Aug 2022
Growl.
Dog eat
Dog.
Guttural
sound.
Flashing
of white.
Fangs
exposed.
Pecking
order.
How
established.
Jungle
worl­d.
Jockeying
for
position.
Pushback.
Otherwise
dominated.
Jungle,­
survival
of the
fittest.
Climbing
the ranks
or pushed
to the
bottom.
Humanity
no different.
Animals all.
Growling.
Flashing
of fangs.
Stand and
fight,
less
driven
from the
scene.
Animals
all.
John Prophet Apr 2023
Tiny.
Look around.
They’re
everywhere.
Tiny things.
Pompous
things.
Pushing
shoving.
Jockeying
for
position.
­Magnified
importance.
Perceived
influence.
Raining
from the
cloud.
Pushing
buttons.
Calling
the shots.
Power
eats away
soul,
respect.
Stepping
over, on.
Hard world.
Cold world.
Pecking order
on full
display.
Digitally
enhanced.
New
sheriff
in town.
New boss.
Soulless
boss.
What
will it
see?
Lousy
examples
we be.
Top
of the
totem.
What
did it
learn?
John Prophet Jun 2020
Stand.
Sit.
Kneel.
Repeat.
Believe.
Believe what’s
told.
Believe
religion,
or eternal
life is denied.
Power control.
Institutions
of power,
control.
Government.
Religion.
The few telling
the many
what to
believe,
how to
believe.
What to
think,
how to
think.
Competing
conflicting
narratives.
Fighting
jockeying
for authority.
Authority
of the soul
the mind,
all being.
Stop listening.
It’s all about
control.
They know
nothing, but
stand and
say they do.
They don’t.
It’s made up!
It’s all about
power.
This is
existence
in the
terrarium.
Andrew Rueter Mar 2020
The world is a waiting room
where we wait for the end
there is no ending to all the endings
the reception desk is located near the exit
in case of a fire
while the doctors sit in the back
arched over their notepads.

The waiting room is getting crowded
as the mosh pit inside
infects one another
jockeying for position
like horses racing to their stall.

The waiting room is getting hotter
from clients with essential oils
and patients with black lung
the air conditioning works overtime
eventually breaking
leaving us overheating—suffocating.

Sitting, staring into space
waiting in the flatline
watching decay repay
our waiting room ways
the building starts crumbling like a glacier
while we wait for its weight to fall upon us.
nivek Apr 25
jockeying is non-existent in a solitary world
Donall Dempsey May 2020
WALKING FROM THE RISING SUN TO KILDARE TOWN.

I take up
my stick &

walk:
back into my past.

Planting the countryside
of my youth

with each step
the years falling away.

The young me unfolds
into being.

The flag of self unfurls
snaps into the lost moment.

My shadow strides
ahead of me

impatient with this
flesh and blood man.

My shadow stops
waits for me to

catch up
catch my breath.

He stares at me
with broken dandelion eyes

a green milk bottle top
mimics a nose

a leaf acted
as a smile.

I laugh at this me
created by chance

and happenstance
step once more

into my shadow's footsteps
let it lead the way.

A tree which had been
there since I had been three

sarcastically remarks" "Oh, is it
yer self that's...in it?"

"It is!" says I
addressing the sky

spread before me
a vast blue field.

Furze blazes
with yellow.

Horses turn to
the gallops.

The sudden thunder of hooves
jockeying with laughter.

I left here to
make something of myself.

I, then...a nervous nobody
returning now

a mere nothing
a success only at failure.

I recite Hopkins
to a straying sheep.

The sheep suspiciously
regards this poet

hitting his stride now
"Nothing is so..."

The sheep coughs.

"... beautiful as
Spring!"

I tell a passing cloud
who is in too much of a hurry.

The poet's proud words
falling by the wayside

as me-then and
the me of now

stroll down
(cane nonchalantly in hand)
memory lane.

The Future hiding just

up around the

corner.
John Destalo Mar 2019
When you forgot my name
last night,
it reminded me of the impermanence
of existing,
and the perilous ******* of words,
spoken or unspoken.

Words appear and disappear
in an instant
some remain long enough
to create bonds or barriers
but always disappear.

Three of these little words can
create waves that in one
moment caress the toes and then
collapse the lungs of the most
vulnerable places deep, deep inside
making a simple breath
painful.

I saw my name last night
hanging in the air
amongst all the previous words
of the night
and as I reached to bring it back
it was carried away by a gentle
breeze out the open window to the
darkened sky.

This gave me the freedom to
crawl back into the shadows and
observe.

I could see all the words
that night
as they hung in the air
each one
trying to remain,
jockeying for position,
but always being replaced,
some words hanging longer than others.

Then I found myself floating amongst
those words,
trying to find one I could grab onto,
to make mine.

I languished in the air
as each new word appeared,
I was bathed in the warmth of their breath,
massaged by the whirlpool
of interaction,
each word melting into the others
until they were without beginning or end
until I was without beginning or end,
nudged by a gentle breeze
toward the open window
to a darkened sky.

— The End —