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susan Nov 2014
guilt is overrated
so too is an overactive conscience

to be burdened emotionally
with another's cruelty
is ludricous

independence of a warped mind
is attainable
necessary
for spiritual freedom
working on achieving exactly this
Jesse R Anderson Apr 2014
The more absurd the concept,
The easier it is to see
That, forthwith, it will be taken
To a ludricous degree.

Group A will declare it—
An issue of great import.
Group B will tag it preposterous
And demand their day in court.

Group C comes to the forefront,
With inconsequential facts,
And will use them as the basis
For ad hominem attacks.

Group D calls a conference,
Claiming they have the solution,
Which will (naturally) necessitate
A violent revolution.

Then somebody sets off a bomb;
Now it’s page one news.
Panels of experts will be convened
To express their cogent views.

Disquiet and anxiety
Will sweep across the nation.
Each side blames others for everything,
From abortion to inflation.

Are we witnessing the fateful events
That will tear our world asunder?
Nah! It’s just the banal anatomy
Of the latest nine day wonder.
A simplistic rant against manufactured crises.
A lot of  people maintain an image
Just to feel apart of the percentage
Of the elite
**** them ******* they can't compete
When the revolution begins
They'll be on they feet
Beggingin pleas
Worried about Donald Trump ***** please? At ease
With the ******* you stressin
I got a Smith n Wesson
For their nerve testing
Intellects at the strongest
Clique the longest
Muthaphukas waiting in guise
Right before yo eyes
You'll see a surprise
Folks going crazy minds are too lazy
Laughing at these critics
Cuz they words don't phase me
FBI I know you got the PIs
Watching the **** I say
***** I'll die for this
And if you gotta problem
You can duck a sick
Get mixed like guns to ammos thAt click
Cuz I'm on a verge to peel
Muthaphukka it's a **** at will

Everybody jumping locin
Up puff clouds
I be smoking no chokin
Only ******* chokin
Is them ***** *** politics
With there brains open hoping
To escape the pain and misery
But ***** I'm revengin for
What ya did to me or he or she
My black indian  ancestry
Gave me the skill to ****
Jumps made on Capitol Hill
Tales from hood ain't never
Been so real
Forget the double negative
Murders an imperative
As dark angels be yo **** narrative
Now jump in yo casket see
And take a picture for the cemetery
I see ya eyes wide open
Windows of soul is the token
Feelin' fear fear of the unknown it's shown
Throughout the way
Ya played in the war zone
Once we bust back imagine that
You had us for five hundred now
We busting back mad cuz I'm black
Got paperstacks
Upping my figures so I can get triggers
We all about the gun play
So **** what you say
Its day of the mad Hebrew
Circlin' yo communities
Takin yo souls away

Last of dying breed
Indeed evils feeds greeds
But I still planted my seed
We multiplying
While racist prejudice politics dying
And liberals are ******* too
Red white or blue
They all on the same team
Extracting each one of our dreams
Yeah n they say you can have a piece of the pie
But when I look in sky I see lies
Sin burying inside of sin
We so deep within
Can't make amends til the fin
I'll be true til I die
Black n Hebrew so don't ask me why?
I act like this talk like this
You ******* mad me like this
Talking ludricous
Reservin yo number spot
For yo burial plot
Licking my shots smokin pots
Infrared dots
Aimed at the crown of yo dome
Addin' chapters to my tome for real
Until
then it'll b a **** at will
******* prejudice ******* **** my black **** til the pigment come off
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2021
warrior's march (anonymous ottoman) -
jordi savall - montserrat figueras...

or perhaps... chevalier, mult estes guaritz
(1146)...

because there isn't enough hours
in a day
to listen to BBC radio 3...
perhaps there might be enough wine...
but...
there aren't enough hours
in a day to listen to BBC radio 3:
go figure... no adverts too...
but as ever...
i never warmed up to the idea of a d.j.:
i don't like being surprised by
a choice of music without
me choosing it...

i will not brag about liking
classical music...
i will not brag about jazz...
there's this surreal middle ground
a music that doesn't belong in
any real discussion
or ref. making...

it's a music that can exist without
the weight of a name
akin to: associated with herr mozart...
etc.
when no one owns it
after all it must be a drag
to have to own something
for an "almost" measure of:
if eternity is to be measured -
immortality is a word that
weighs one down... less...

i'd imagine my name to be of note:
100 years after i'm dead...
point being: i'm joking...
but at some point it could, possibly...
expire?
unless of course...
a Plato doesn't what doesn't
change is something incremental...
that **** is covered
by A'Tuin
          (ahtuin)
               Tubul... Jerakeen... Berilia...
T'Φon...
           strange how the surd / vowel
catcher of the rugby goal posts of H
are missing... no?

   if rugby or football was not discovered
by someone meditating on
the letter H...
  tennis? what's that?
a game of... 7 rectangles... no?
and in the "ol'" days...
two tennis players...
a football team's worth of umpires
and at least 4 ball boys...

no wonder tennis is not popular
recreationally...

i'm hopeful that this year will
be a good year for wine...
homemade of course...
it's that much more... revealing to make
something of your own like that...
although... hardly baking a cake...
if we were not bound to this:
insomnia... of information...
insomnia of... libido...
and having access to enough
wine whiskey:
mind you... even Plato is noted as making
the whimsical conclusion:
the man who invented (discovered)
beer - bless him... although
retaining his anonymity...

fame out of focus...
i could understand posthumous fame...
all the more in that something
was achieved in life
something was striven for in life
and it could obliterate all
distractions...
this once ludricous pursuit of:
argument...
  ludicrous - sauerkraut...
              gherkins in brine...
i guess i am of a people who cling
to Germans more than they ever might
cling to those... Rushkies... Sorbs...
Wends...

after checking the champions' league
scores
i had to have a little history lesson
in what was the Seljuk Empire...
well it's not Islam was knocking
at the gates of Europe... the Turks were...
looking at the Turks now...
i see something richly problematic...
too cosmopolitan and all-world influenced
trade: global traffic...
i can't imagine not having some
orthodox spices for a curry
in my kitchen...

   Polacks are afraid of spices...
at least prior generations...
salts that does pepper's work too...
to the wok with you to fry up
those bland... raw cashews!

- like... the Darwinian argument
or the Copernican argument...

i clearly can't listen to classical music either...
it's... too complicated... too many notes...
it's too strict Pavlov-esque almost...
it's great it's nice it might require
a Royal Albert Hall but most of the time
i'm just pretending to like it...
unless of course of really like it:
Prokofiev's Lt. Kije...
  or the Alexander Nevsky - Battle on the Ice...

- that there is so much talk
of this supposed "freedom" in the vest:
of way, when, why...
these lineages of congregating
oppressors...
calls out for: fascism but not
the tea of... english immigrants
are never, immigrants...
to no self: no known other...

         that the english have no denotation
concern for concept of diaspora..
no wonder everyone is everyone's
better kept: cold kettle
and expatriate...

such nuance in convo that it really
doesn't matter...
after all...
i'm spewing half-mind verbiage
and i'm not supposed to be content with it...
but i still live among
the foreign-natives
of these isles than
be among "my" brethren who
have reclaimed circa 6 years under
the Nazis... half a century (circa)
under Bolshevik incredulity...
and then this, somehow new, "now"...

but at least the stupid forks in the road
listened to my advice: although
i didn't give any: and kept their currency...
like i might own women
or own a history of "me" and "my" people...
i don't really regard that
a niche market for any thought
or strict reminding of: 'ought...
either...

it's one of those nights where i'm
the d.j. i'm gagging for some hard liquor
all that's available is some
homemade wine
and i have an appointment for
9am over the telephone... etc.

back to the quest for alphabet-icals...
beside the vowels...
Y - i petition is... a vowel and is not...
a consonant...
so: a, e, i, o u, y... there are... 6 vowels...
19 aeons and 19 consonants...
but i ask...

why would i, ply: perhaps this is
me bilingual "schizoid" making
a mock of the natives who never left
for: the great east aust-rare-land...
zoo a new land...
hay'tch no... ha ha... or... sigh: aah...
ygrek...
            not igrek...
             last time i checked russians
tried to sharpen that phonetic "detail":
with their bl bl bl diacritical "marks"...

beside the point of vowels...
ah: or "a"
eh: or "e"
  oh: or oh...
   "i" (aye, yes) or: i(s)ch...
uh: ugh: or "u" & yew / you...

yes... this must be me...
bilingual "schizoid"...
         my new found freedom...
but why did the greeks have nouns
for their letters...
alpha (a-lpha)
beta (b-eta)
but it also denotes an... übersinn?
         letters had noun status to later denote
them as scientific consonants...
yes... the ancient greeks were unique
in that they were decisively
the children of the ancient world...

****** / down-syndrome fiasco of our
modern we...
clearly...
so back to basics...
a suggestion of concern for only
the puritanical minded bollocking a riddle...
because there's no bull to ride...
if syllables are to go by...
katakana is problematic because
the syllables all begin with a consonant...
their ******* Fukushima figurines...
it's not like you can write...

   it like a periodic table for: sodium: Na...
  ナ
well.. ha ha... you can...
but the breaking point of my concern
comes...
NA: ナ
            seems a waste to conjure AN...
                               アン

and so forth:

               イン  INI     ニ                
               ウン  UNU ヌ
               エン  ENE  ネ
               オン  ONO ノ

no? try reciting the english alphabet...
while following the "proper" guidelines
of the angry prefix lady and letter as noun...
transcending whether
it be... i doubt Greeks have a concept
of vowel or consonant...

outside the realm of vowels...
prolonged or caught by H for either: short... sigh...
or elongated laughter via ha ha...

why is it: Be
  and not eBB?
why Cee (cedilla!)
and not eCk...
Dee
   and not eD...
tell me!
    but now it's eF
but not... Fee!
    or F'eh...
           Gee but not
eGG...
    music, people! music!
        eM but not Meeeeeee!
Kay but not aK...
          eL but not Lu...
        Jay Jay - lodge - touch  o'
      Raj -
          eN...
                          N'eh...
    end: no?
             *** & peeee
                          eee
                           ee
                             e
up...                op-
                                 apparently...
"p"...
          Q...
kew... gardens... quo? kwo?
        qua? kwa?
         awry K...
            that's "q"...
    aR...
                 but not... Re-garding...
        Re-vealing...
oh i believe you... the Fwench had
a tarantula at the battle of Hastings
and you lost your trill of it...
let alone the thrill of it... like:
a barrel run ol' sod...
never, never mind...

           but it's still: aR... and not Ro... no?
it's eS and not: Su(e) or Si or So...
or S'eh...
   or s(igma)... is, it?
it's Tea but not eTymology...

if you were to write ALPHA
or OMEGA like a "hebrew"...
  perhaps... Lamb-of-Delta...
        i.e. AΛΦ
  &           ΩMΓ      

   oomph: oh i mind...
                    pool to pull... to: tow...

                 at the altar of the alpha brood
i'm not 2nd... i'm last...
i'm the completed plethora of sensations...
i am not nibbling at the to
i am lasting incongruent...
imbecile in the feminine eyes
that discover all things via
simplicities of feline conjecturing...

by the gods of Ivanhoe, rubber
and Prometheus!

Tao... besides my "tea"...
via - ups a pumpernickle!
           v = w = ł = w = v
(fał) -
  well your people shouldn't
have started a war
in our defence... should they?

CH = X - IKS...
             ξζ pairig...
    κσε
                or... κση... ha ha : "q"...
    do you even know how spanish
a greek sounds when a greek
compliments you speaking english?
no... it's not my thirst: or first for: dough
a black sorrow: forward so...

the old phrasing...
   θought & φilosoφy
                 ΦΘΨ (key, hole... door...
open... sezzame)...

ZEDZEDZEDZEDZEDISTTOTZED
ZEDISTZEDISZEDTOTZEDISTTOT
­ZEDZEDZEDZEDZEDISTTOTZED
ZEDISTZEDISZEDTOTZEDISTTOT
ZEDZEDZEDZEDZ­EDISTTOTZED
ZEDISTZEDISZEDTOTZEDISTTOT
ZEDZEDZEDZEDZEDISTTOTZED
Z­EDISTZEDISZEDTOTZEDISTTOT
Money clothes to hoes, fashions shows, see the blood on the front of the door,
Hallways, always had killers with aks no delays, I'm just tryna get a stay,
Where my head lay, too many folks out for the wicked display, hands for pray,
Laced together, thinking like how lord, can we live in peace together,
Through many seasons of weather, I'll still endeavor, over many boulders levers,
And the heavens, poured out a water spout, no doubt, had to learn a new route,
Or else face the gun muzzle snout, to my mouth, streaming many tears,
Tried to swallow my fears, yo my brothers had beef with some money arrears,
My visions was blurred, far from clear, sneaks of the shot gun, plot scheme
And run, they did for fun,
I knew death was the outcome, I'm feelin like Socrates,
always outnumbered and out gunned
yo Son!
I'm looking to the sky, like why, so many days
To nights like this,
Ludricous child stuck in the wild, never knew the cracks of a smile,
Joker war play foul, oenophile meanwhile, as I spread my wisdom senile,
Twist my henny, like the necks of an owl, instincts lurking, got my conscious in a growl,






Preachers on the streets, but still cant stop the violence that speaks,
Silently, riot violently, can't throw up, the peace sign, if we hate ourselves,
****** robbing ******, for bare minimum figures, catch the pictures,
Stainless scriptures, end days in all ways, folks will be starving always,
Mentally spiritually, they don't see what I see, place my thoughts at the sea,
So I can be free, free my mind from the guilts leased off of mankind,
Still sippin dolla wine, got jesus grief in my bloodline, watch for the signs,
Seven horns, with seven storms, catch the swarm no good luck charm,
Will stop the alarm, from waking up, pain chaos and corrupt,
Will come to an end, let the fire of wrath expose within, while we living,
I'm only giving, the harsh truth, watch the demon troops for the scoops,
Focus ready aim, one eye closed for the final shoot,
Another soul under the earth's boot, smoke trees til I extend my roots,
In the auroras, hit my thoughts like Dora soon to explore tha,
Vessel seeds to the divine creeds, let knowledge to mankind bleed,
Worded coated like DiVinchi, saw death in the forms of a frenzy, ya feel me?

— The End —