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Eugene Mar 2018
Tag-araw na naman at tuwing sasapit ang buwan ng Marso, Abril at Mayo ay malimit pumunta sa isang hindi pamilyar na lugar ang magkakabarkadang sina Potsi, Tapsi, at Seksi.

Ang pagpunta sa baybayin o beach ay nakagawian na nilang gawin taon-taon. Ito rin ang kani-kanilang paraan upang pansamantalang makalayo sa napaka-abalang lugar sa Kamaynilaan.

"Pots, Sek, saan naman ang destinasyon natin ngayong taon? Malapit na ang holy week. Kaya dapat mayroon na tayong napagkasunduan," tanong ni Tapsi.

Tapsi ang palayaw na binigay sa kaniya ng kaniyang magulang dahil paborito niya ang pagkain ng iba't ibang uri ng tapa na may sinangag. Ang totoo niyang pangalan ay Mateo Paulo Sibucay.

Dahil dalawa lang naman silang lalaki, siya ang may pinakaguwapong mukha maliban na lamang kay Seksi na maganda dahil babae ito. Itinuturing din siyang hunk sa kanilang kompanya sa matikas na pangangatawan nito kahit hindi naman siya pumupunta sa gym.

"Perfect ang Laiya, Taps, Pots! Ano agree kayo?" namumungay ang mga mata ni Seksi nang sagutin nito ang tanong ni Tapsi.

Si Seksi, gaya ng palayaw niya ay kakikitaan naman ito ng kakaibang kaseksihan sa katawan. Malakas man itong lumamon ay hindi naman ito tumataba. Mahilig siya sa mga matatamis at paborito niya ang pagkain ng iba't ibang uri ng keyk. Ang tunay naman niyang pangalan ay Katarina Sek Javellana.

"Basta may mabibilhan ng pagkain kapag nagutom ako, okay na okay sa akin ang lugar, Taps at Sek," sagot naman ni Potsi habang may hawak-hawak na dalawang jolly hotdog sa kaniyang mga kamay.

Kulang na lamang ay mabilaukan ito dahil panay ang lamon nang lamon nito kahit may nginunguya pa sa bunganga. Siya ang mataba sa kanila pero ayaw niyang tinatawag niyang tawaging mataba. Mas gusto niya ang salitang chubby dahil cute daw ito sa pandinig niya. Ang tunay naman niyang pangalan ay Pocholo Travis Sigalado.

"Nakakahiya ka talaga, Potsi. Mabilaukan ka oy!" wika ni Tapsi.

"Heto, tissue o! Sahurin mo ang mga nahuhulog. Sayang din iyang pagkain. Alalahanin mo na maraming mga bata ang nagugutom sa kalsada," sabay abot naman ng tissue ni Seksi kay Potsi.

"Kaya nga sinisimot ko ang pagkain kasi sayang 'di ba?" ngunguso-ngusong sagot ni Potsi habang nagpapatuloy sa pagnguya sa kaniyang kinakain.

"Saan ba ang Laiya, Sek?" ani Tapsi.

"Sa Batangas lang naman siya. Mga isa't kalahati hanggang dalawang oras ang biyahe mula sa Maynila. Set na natin?" nakangiting sagot naman ni Sek habang ang dalawang hinlalaki ay naka-senyas ng aprub.

"Sa Black Saturday tayo pumunta para madami tayong makikitang mga tanawin!" gulat naman ang dalawa sa sinabi ni Potsi at pansamantala pang nagkatitigan sina Sek at Tapsi. Pagkatapos no'n ay nagsipagtawanan sila.

"Agree ako diyan sa Sabado de Gloria. Teka, 'di ba sa susunod na linggo na iyon?" ani Tapsi.

"Okay lang iyon, handa na rin naman tayo palagi e. Kaya walang problema. Sasakyan ko na lang ang gagamitin natin para makatipid tayo sa gasolina," si Potsi na ang sumagot matapos uminom ng mountain dew.

Tumango na lamang ang dalawa dahil alam naman nilang sa kanilang tatlo ay si Potsi ang laging handa. Minsan nga ay si Potsi na ang taya sa kanilang summer outing taon-taon e.

"At kung may problema kayo sa budget, ako na rin ang bahala ha? He-he," tatawa-tawang sabi ni Potsi na ikinatawa na rin naman ng dalawa.

"Maasahan ka talaga, Potsi! Gusto mo order pa kami ng pagkain sa iyo?"

Masayang nagtatawanan ang magbarkada sa Jollibee nang mga oras na iyon dahil sa kaibigan nilang si Potsi. Pare-pareho na rin naman silang may mga trabaho. Kaya wala nang problema sa kanila ang pera.

#TravelFriendsGoals ang motto nilang tatlo. Si Tapsi ay isang Real Estate Broker agent habang si Seksi naman ay isang Fashion Model at si Potsi ay isang Food Blogger. Lahat sila ay iisa ang hilig--ang maglakbay at libutin ang mga natatagong lugar sa Pilipinas.

*

Lumipas ang isang linggo, araw ng Sabado ay maagang umalis mula sa Quezon City ang magkakaibigan. Gamit ang sasakyan ni Potsi na Toyota Revo ay bumiyahe na sila. Si Potsi ang nagmamaneho, si Seksi naman ang tumitingin sa mapang dala niya habang si Tapsi ay panay ang kuha ng litrato sa sarili sa likuran ng sasakyan.

"Hindi ka ba nagsasawa sa mukha mo, Taps? Guwapong-guwapo ka sa sarili a!" tanong ni Potsi habang tumitingin-tingin sa rear-view mirror ng sasakyan. Nginitian na lamang siya ni Tapsi.

"Hayaan mo na 'yang broker nating kaibigan. Alam mo namang siya lang ang may magandang mukha sa inyong dalawa. Ha-ha," asar ni Sek kay Potsi.

"Anong guwapo? E kung pumayat ako 'di hamak na mas may hitsura ako kay Taps!" depensa naman ni Potsi.

"Oo na, Pots. Mas guwapo ka naman sa akin ng kalahating paligo lang naman kapag pumayat ka 'di ba? Bakit kasi ayaw mo akong samahan sa gym para makapag-work-out ka na rin at mabawasan ang bilbil mo?" ani Tapsi kay Potsi.

"Gusto mo ibaba kita sa gitna ng kalsada, Taps? At saka, hindi ko na kailangan mag-gym. Food is life. Enjoy life, enjoy goya sabi ng commercial ni Kim Chiu," naiinis na nagpapatwang sagot naman ni Potsi habang nakatuon pa rin ang atensiyon sa kalsada. Lihim na lamang na natawa si Seksi sa dalawang kaibigan.

"Ikaw naman, hindi na mabiro. Alam mo namang love kita e lalo na nang malaman kong love mo abs ko! Ha-ha," pang-aalaska na naman ni Tapsi.

"Mukha mo! Mas marami akong abs sa iyo, tabs nga lang at malalaki pa! Ha-ha," napuno na naman ng tawanan ang loob ng sasakyan. Asaran kung asaran. Iyan ang nakasanayan na nila.

Lumipas ang isang oras na biyahe ay nakatulog na sina Tapsi at Seksi habang si Potsi ay gising na gising ang diwa dahil habang nagmamaneho ay panay ang dukot nito sa baon niyang mga pagkain malapit sa kaniya.

Dumaan pa ang isang oras ay napansin ni Potsi na parang may mali sa direksyong tinatahak nila. Agad niyang kinuha ang mapang dala ni Seksi at tiningnan ito. Dahil hindi niya kabisado ang nakapaloob sa mapa, ginising na lamang niya si Seksi.

"Sek! Sek! SEEKKK!" tulog-mantika ang babae, kaya sumigaw na lamang si Potsi na ikinagulat din ni Tapsi sa back seat.

"Sorry. Naliligaw yata tayo. Tingnan mo ang mapa, Sek," agad namang tiningnan ni Seksi ang mapa at sinipat-sipat ang kinaroroonan nila.

"Ihinto mo nga ang sasakyan muna, Pots," sinunod naman nito si Sek at pansamantalang itinigil ang sasakyan.

"Ano, naliligaw na ba tayo, Sek?" binali-baligtad pa ni Seksi ang mapa para lang siguraduhing tama ang tinatahak nilang lugar patungo sa isang sikat na resort sa Laiya, Batangas. Ngunit, may napansin siyang kakaiba.

"Nasa Laiya na nga tayo, guys pero bakit tila napadpad tayo sa isang gubat na ito?" lahat ay napatingin sa itinuro ni Seksi sa mapa at binasa ang nakasulat doon.

"Satur-Death? Ano iyan? Hindi mo ba nakita ang lugar na iyan diyan sa mapa, Sek?" tila may kung anong kakaibang simoy ng hangin naman ang dumampi sa mga balat ng magkakaibigan ng mga oras na iyon matapos sambitin ang katagang Satur-death.

"Patingin nga? Kinilabutan ako sa pangalan e. Satur-death, tunog saturday o sabado tapos may death? Kamatayan? E 'di ba sabado ngayon? Don't tell me may mangyayaring hindi maganda sa atin?" sabay-sabay na nagkatinginan ang tatlo habang nakatigil ang sasakyan sa gitna ng kalsada na hindi pamilyar na lugar. Tahimik ang lugar na iyon at ni busina, tunog o mga sasakyan ay wala kang maririnig o makikitang napapadaan.  

"Ang mabuti pa, bumalik na lang tayo sa kung saan tayo kanina nanggagaling. Baka mali lang talaga ang napasukan natin. Baka shortcut lang ito, guys," nagtatapang-tapangang wika ni Seksi.

"Ang sabi sa pamahiin, kapag naligaw daw tayo, hubarin natin ang mga damit natin," nagpapatawang wika ni Potsi.

"Anong hubarin? Baka ang ibig **** sabihin, baligtarin!" pagkaklaro ni Tapsi.

"Pareho lang naman silang may 'rin' sa dulo e," dagdag pa ni Potsi. Napailing na lamang sina Tapsi at Seksi at naghubad na lamang upang baligtarin ang kanilang damit.

Matapos baligtarin ang damit ay pinaandar na ni Potsi ang sasakyan. Dahan-dahan na lamang niya itong minamaneho upang makabisado ang kalsadang kanilang tinatahak.

Tatlumpung minuto na ang nakalilipas nang matagpuan nila ang isang karatula sa gilid ng kalasda na nakadikit sa isang puno.

"THIS WAY TO LAIYA!"

Agad na nabuhayan ng loob ang magkakaibigan dahil sa nakitang sign board na nang tingnan nila sa mapa ay nakaukit naman iyon.

"Deretso na lang tayo, Potsi at mararating na natin ang mismong resort sa Laiya," iyan na lamang ang nasabi ni Seksi nang mga oras na iyon.

Nang malampasan nila ang karatula ay bigla na lang naging makulimlim ang kalangitan at biglang bumuhos ang ulan. At hindi nila inasahan ang isang palasong bumutas sa kaliwang gulong ng sinasakyan nilang Toyota Revo.

Gulat na gulat ang mukha ng magkakaibigan nang biglang gumewang-gewang ang sasakyan at nabundol ito sa isang puno. Mabuti na lamang at hindi sila napuruhan. Kaunting galos lamang ang kanilang natamo kaya agad din nilang inayos ang mga sarili.

Nang mga oras na iyon, sa side-mirror ng sasakyan ay may napansin si Seksi na papalapit sa kanilang kinaroroonan. Nang ilang metro na lamang ang layo nito sa kanilang sasakyan ay nakita niyang may hawak itong pana at palaso. Pinakawalan niya ito at tumama kaliwang bahagi ng side-mirror.

"BABA! LABAS! Takbo na tayo! May gustong pumatay sa atin. Labas na!" sa taranta ay isa-isang nagsilabasan sa loob ng sasakyan ang magkakaibigan. Napasubsob pa ang mukha ni Potsi sa damuhan pagkababa nito. Agad na inalalayan siya ni Tapsi upang makatayo habang si Seksi naman ay sumisigaw na.

"Takbo! Takbo na! Bilis!"

Walang lingon-lingon ay agad na silang nagsitakbuhan ngunit hindi pa man sila nakakahakbang ay isang palaso ang tumama sa kaliwang binti ni Potsi dahilan upang mapabitaw ito sa balikat ni Tapsi at natumba.

Napahiyaw sa sakit si Potsi. Gulantang naman ang mukha ni Seksi. Nagmadali siyang balikan ang kaibigan at tinulungang makatayo si Potsi dahil malapit na malapit na ang salarin sa kanila.

"Iwan niyo na ako, Taps, Sek!" kitang-kita na sa mga mata ni Potsi ang panghihinat at takot nang mga oras na iyon. Kahit umuulan ay pansin na pansing naluluha na ang kaibigan.

"Hindi ka namin pwedeng iwan dito, Pots! Sama-sama tayo! Sek, bilis iangat natin si Pots. Isa, dalawa, tatlo!" kahit mabigat ay nagawa pa rin nila itong itayo upang makatakbo at makalayo sa kung sino man ang gustong pumatay sa kanila.

Nang muli na silang hahakbang ay hindi nila napansin ang paglapit ng hindi pamilyar na nilalang at itinarak sa likuran ni Potsi ang matulis na palaso. Agad na lumingon sina Tapsi at Seksi sa salarin nang sumigaw nang malakas si Posti.

Doon ay mulagat silang pareho nang isa na namang palaso sana ang tatama at itatarak kay Sek. Mabuti na lamang ay maagap si Tapsi. Binitawan niya si Potsi at agad na sinugod ang salarin.

Parang torong iniuntog ni Tapsi ang ulo niya sa tiyan nito at pareho silang natumba sa magkabilang direksyon. Nang mga sandaling iyon, habang patuloy sa pagbuhos ang ulan ay naaninag ni Seksi ang mukha ng gustong pumatay sa kanila.

May suot itong maskara sa mukha na ang tanging makikita ay ang mga mata lamang niya. Ang mga balat sa leeg, kamay at paa ay parang bangkay na naagnas. Matatalim din ang mga kuko nito sa mga kamay at paa.

Itinuon ni Sek ang atensiyon sa kaibigang si Potsi na nang mga oras na iyon ay tila nawalan ng malay. Niyugyog-yugyog niya ang kaibigan. Pinakiramdaman niya rin ang pulso nito at pinakinggan ang tibok ng puso. Doon ay napagtanto niyang may pag-asa pa si Potsi.

"Taps! Buhay pa si Potsi!" sigaw niya sa kaibigan.

"Tumakas na kayo, Sek! Ako na ang bahala rito! Alis na!" agad na sinugod si Sek ng kaharap at nahagip ng tulis ng palaso ang kaniyang braso dahilan upang makaramdam siya ng hapdi.

Hinila-hila naman ni Sek si Potsi upang dalhin sa ligtas na lugar. Kahit hindi kaya ng kaniyang mga braso ay pinilit niya pa ring hilahin ito.

Samantala, dinampot ni Tapsi ang palasong nabitawan ng may sa kanibal na nilalang at pinatamaan ito sa pamamagitan ng pagtarak ng palaso. Parang gutom na gutom naman ito dahil naiilagan niya ang bawat pagtarak sa kaniya ng palaso.

Animo ay isang baliw na nakakita ng kaniyang laruan ang kaharap ni Tapsi. Hindi naman nagpatalo ang huli. Nang muling itatarak sa kaniya ang palaso ay napigilan niya ito at sinipa sa gitnang hita ang kaharap. Napahawak naman ito sa kaniyang hinaharap. Hindi na rin sinayang ni Tapsi ang pagkakataon upang makaganti.

Agad niyang kinuha ang palasong nabitawan niya at itinarak iyon sa leeg. Makailang beses niyang hinugot-baon ang palaso at itinarak muli sa iba pang bahagi ng katawan nito. Sa leeg, sa mata, sa butas ng tainga maging sa bunganga at ang panghuli sa puso nito.

Hingal na hingal man si Tapsi ay nagawa pa niyang tanggalin ang nakabalot na maskara sa mukha ng kaniyang kalaban at doon nakita ang inuuod-uod ng mukha. Hindi niya nasikmurang pagmasdan kaya nasuka si Tapsi. Kinalaunan ay pinuntahan na lamang niya si Sek na hindi pa rin nakakalayo sa kakahila sa kaibigang si Potsi.

Punong-puno ng dugo ang mga kamay, mukha at kasuotan ni Tapsi nang makita siya ni Sek. Nahuhugasan lamang iyon sa bawat patak at buhos ng ulan.

"Kailangan na nating makaalis dito, Taps. Kailangan maisugod si Potsi sa ospital!"

"Saan tayo hihingi ng tulong e, nakita mo namang mukhang halimaw ang nakalaban ko, Sek,"

"Si Potsi, Taps. Anong gagawin natin? Marami ng dugo ang nawala sa kaniya,"

"Hindi ko alam pero sana tumila na ang ulan nang makita na natin ang dinadaanan natin para makahingi tayo ng tulong. Tulungan mo na akong buhatin si Potsi. Siguro naman--"

Hindi pa natatapos ni Tapsi ang kaniyang sasabihin nang maramdaman niyang may matulis na bagay ang tumusok sa kaniyang batok na tumagos sa kaniyang lalamunan.

Sigaw naman nang sigaw si Sek at hindi na malaman ang gagawin. Nakita niyang may papalapit naman sa kinaroroonan nila. Kailangan na niyang iwanan ang mga kaibigan at iligtas ang kaniyang sarili para makapagtago.

Sa isang malaking puno sa 'di kalayuan ay doon nagtago si Sek. Tanging mga mata na lamang niya ang nagmamasid sa kung ano ang puwedeng gawin ng mga ito sa kaniyang mga kaibigan.

Katulad ng napatay ni Tapsi ay ganoon din ang mga hitsura ng kani-kanilang balat at mukha. Katulad sila ng mga kanibal na gustong pumatay ng tao. Isang babaeng may mahahabang buhok ang may hawak na tabak ang walang kaabog-abog na tumabas sa leeg ni Tapsi.

Gustuhin mang sumigaw ni Sek ay hindi niya magawa. Tinakpan na lamang niya ang kaniyang bunganga at parang gripong sunod-sunod naman sa pag-agos ang kaniyang mga luha nang makita ang sinapit ng kaibigang sina Tapsi at Potsi.

Gamit ang tabak ay isa-isa naman nilang pinagtataga ang katawan ni Potsi. Pinutulan nila ito ng braso at ibinigay sa isang maliit na batang sabik na sabik na kainin ito habang ang isang may katangkarang lalaki ay panay ang sipsip at dila nito sa ulong-pugot ni Tapsi.

Duwal na duwal na si Sek nang mga oras na iyon at agad na nagsuka. Sa kasamaang palad ay matalas ang pandinig nila at narinig siya ng isang matangkad na lalaki at inamoy-amoy ang paligid upang malaman ang kinaroroonan niya. Pigil-hininga naman si Sek at isiniksik ang sarili sa punong pinagtataguan niya. Takip-takip na rin niyang muli ang kaniyang bibig upang pigilan ang kaniyang paghikbi.

Nakiramdam pa si Sek sa kaniyang paligid kung naroroon pa ang mga halimaw. Tanging ang pintig na lamang ng kaniyang puso ang kaniyang narinig nang mga sandaling iyon kaya naman ay marahan siyang tumingin sa direksyon kung saan naroon ang kaniyang mga kaibigan.

Isang mata pa man lang ang kaniyang nailalabas nang biglang bumulaga sa kaniya ang isang inuuod na mala-demonyo ang mukhang nakangiti sa kaniya at hinawakan siya sa buhok.

Nagpupumiglas si Sek at pilit na tinatanggal ang kamay nito sa buho. Pero isang malakas na suntok sa sikmura ang kaniyang natikman. Agad siyang kinaladkad habang nakahawak pa rin ito sa kaniyang buhok at dinala sa kinaroroonan ng kaniyang mga patay na kaibigan.

Napatakip na lamang sa kaniyang bibig si Sek nang mapagmasdan ang sinapit ng kaniyang mga kaibigan sa kaniyang harapan.

Hawak-hawak pa rin ng lalaki ang kaniyang buhok ay agad na itinutok sa kaniyang leeg ang matulis na tabak. Pigil hininga at lunok-laway na lamang ang nagawa ni Sek nang unti-unting hinihiwa ang balat sa kaniyang leeg hanggang sa maabot ng tabak ang ugat nito. Sabay-saba
nick armbrister Nov 2022
San Mateo ******* Dump
What was it like when the shooting started?
What was it really like?

How did it sound from where we were stood
Way back then now a ******* dump
But then hills valleys trees grass
Enemy positions a battle ground

Where such killing wounding history
How did it sound when the shooting started?
San Mateo Landfill atop Shotgun Road

Now full of ******* back then full of war
If we listen can we hear the shots shouts
Sounds of war killing death silence…
SELL OUT Nick Armbrister new book out soon
Paraps XXIV

Messiah of Judah

It should be fulfilled as predisposed by Vernarth by always having the contemporary desire to melt the trumpets and then recast them, manifesting to take them to meet their most fervent retrospective reunited with his brother apostles and the omnipresent Messiah. The archangel Uriel sent him this plan that he had for him as an always fertile offering in the face of any possible threat of disobedience. Indissoluble and whole, they climb the Eurydice stowing the supplies for this long journey like a Messianic proclamation from the blade of an Aiónus propeller that has already had to open these waters together with the evangelist. The board and the anchor are lifted Procorus made encouraging signs to all, saying goodbye to them and then returning to the hermitage. The others fit into the waves of the Skalá roadstead, Raeder played with Petrobus on the deck laughing at all times when everything seemed seized and sad. Eurídice would go to the figurehead for a few days to take everyone and guide them, this guaranteed that they would always have good movement and navigate without having any details. Vernarth describes:"The apostle would settle on the deck near the bow while I organized the sails and powers of Uriel who would always be close by giving them zephyr winds from the Metelmi. Taking the route sailing from Patmos in the Aegean Sea through the northern Dodecanese Islands. San Juan when he was going off the west coast of Turkey deprecated and was remembering the port of Skalá. Patmos..., its "Apokalypsis Island", leaving behind the monastic and picturesque island with traditional white Oikos, azure, and crystalline waters with its vibrant subjective life. Where Saint Ioannis heard the voice of God and wrote the Apocalypse, as well as the three small cracks in the rock through which came the frequency that symbolized before him the Holy Trinity. They go through Rhodes, the largest island in the Dodecanese in Greece heralding Uriel of ancient ruins and the remains of their occupation when they were part of the Order of Saint John during the Crusades. The city of Rhodes has an Old Town with the medieval Knights' Street and the castle-like palace of the Grand Master. The palace was captured by the Ottomans and later occupied by the Italians. The Apostle could only remember the place of passage when he walked in ecclesiastical gear. Limassol, Cyprus; with too many Greek Cypriot waters was the current where they arrived..., to Limassol. They come here one day. They descend from the Eurydice and head for the Paphos road. To the archaeological treasure keeping its neighboring memories of the Greco-Roman theater built in the second century before Christ. They go happily rolling through vestiges of time, all thanks to the timeless Parapsychological Regressive Memory that Vernarth was narrating as always. Crossing the private Roman villa is the House of Eustolios by Othónes or Paraps screens, converted into a public recreation center during the early Christian period. It consisted of a complex of baths and rooms with floors covered by beautiful mosaics from the 5th century AD Other important buildings are the Paleochristian Basilica dating from the 5th century, a Nymphaeum dedicated to the water nymphs, and the Stadium from the 2nd century AD finds something removed a kilometer from the site. They transfigure the cord of the mosaics of the House of Achilles and the House of the Gladiators, in a perfect state of conservation that with their beautiful colors covered the floors with the same carefree footsteps of each one belonging to the bright tones in their great parallel work of the god Aiónius that was in parallel collating. Here San Juan kneels and prays profusely for the souls of Christians who have fallen to the stigma that will entail the performance of the first miracle of this pilgrimage through Limassol. They were all silent. They leave Cyprus and go to the port of Limassol to board the ship. Being very pleasantly surprised by the unexpected visit of Etréstles who was upon the ship. Everyone jumps with happiness! seeing that the champion of the Koumeterium of Messolonghi, brother of Vernarth, was added to them. Vernarth: Khaire!! Happy is my soul, which flows like a psalm of blood, Carrying your image through the flowers of Limassol! They all hug him and get ready to weigh anchor!

Miracle I  Limassol

"On this vertebral nature in this pilgrimage of uprooting the Apostle, the first miracle will happen before the eyes of all. The land darkened analogously to the landscape, the sea shone like a mirror showing them the feet of the Messiah floating in the Sea. their ***** the heat produced by this surprise stampede. The apostle embraces them all and asks them to approach the anchor line to lift it on the seabed where Creation rests. The Apostle approaches with small bony hands snatching the swivel links that are located near the mooring lever point. He presses with his hand the rope of the Triaconter invading with his thumbnail the netted vine that forms from his line. He begins to pull it several times..., every ten meters he looked at the sky and noticed that some majestic abnormal overtones shone. He is still blind to the eyes of everyone else moving in the ship as if they were on the high seas under the ultimatum of a great storm. Saint John looks at himself in the model mirror of the water, he saw how he pulls his body just like in Galilee when his Master did it, he saw how everyone laughed and was delighted to stop time to laugh together with him inaugurating a thousand years of psalmody. There was no more than five meters left to remove the anchor from the anchorage and he feels that it was excessively heavy. He asked Vernarth and Etréstles for help to get her out of the wet mass, they help him and pull the three unanimously to the rhythm of their revealed eagerness until from the ramp of the overboard they manage to see a large golden roundel of about seventy centimeters in diameter, of solid gold that glittered blinding whoever dared to look at it without Faith making it very difficult for everyone to participate in this great festivity of a miracle. It was a solid gold medallion bearing the stigma of Mariah mother of the Messiah, supplanting all ship anchors so that the ship would represent the base of devotion at sea as a sign of closeness to the Messiah by pulling faith forward. one..., so that in a period longer than that which needs to be released back into the sea as a gold-bearing weight, rather as a refuge to save us in the perfect mathematics of collecting it, what is night and obscurantism that succumbs more than the self-personalization of duties when presiding over human desires, transfiguring them in the diaphanous dawn as time and space assigned to the numeral in its perfect science of finding oneself with the medallion, which has always been in sublime crushing cognition and..., continuing to exist without the need to pull the anchor again..., but rather to pull the gold medallion for seven consecutive days that it would take them to reach Jaffa after releasing the moorings in Limassol. Just as everyone was stupefied, falling all the not being able to see more, or perhaps not having more to say about the trick that could be conjugated with the space where the fleeting beams of light emitted by the auric sphere intruded, as in the house of Affliction of Betania, attracting everyone with great love to feel anointed by the aroma of their heads. The apostle understood that the path of the wise senility of the books of wisdom and Saint Luke was approaching them, to impregnate in everything created well granted to spread it from the matrix that interprets and faithfully delegates it in the application of his work. Vernarth describes: "Jesus calms the storm..." When Jesus entered the boat, his disciples followed him. And suddenly a great storm arose on the sea so that vast flat waves in that rush covered the boat; Jesus was asleep. And coming to him, they woke him up saying: Lord, save us, we perish! And He said to them: Why are you frightened men of little faith? Then he got up, rebuked the winds and the sea, and a great calm ensued. And the men marveled, saying: Who is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him? - Mateo 8 - exhibiting this passage in the Othón showing that event the god Aiónus when he rubbed the Ibico I, and the one that would come from Leonardo Da Vinci. "Leonardo Da Vinci "Last Supper Passage" Then you will have your brother Aaron come to you from among the children of Israel and with him his sons to serve me as priests: Aaron, with Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar, sons of Aaron. And you shall make holy garments for your brother Aaron for glory and beauty. And you shall speak to all the skilled craftsmen, whom I have filled with the spirit of wisdom, and they shall make Aaron's garments to consecrate him, so that he may serve me as a priest. These are the garments that they will make: a breastplate, an ephod, a robe, a checkered tunic, a tiara, and a belt; and they shall make sacred garments for your brother Aaron and for his sons, so that they may serve me as priests. And they will take for it the gold and the blue, purple and scarlet cloth, and the fine linen. They will also make the ephod of gold, blue, purple, and scarlet cloth, and fine twisted linen, the work of a skillful craftsman. It will have two shoulder pads that meet at its two ends so that they can be joined. And the skillfully woven belt that will be on it will be of the same work of the same material: of gold, blue, purple, and scarlet cloth, and of fine twisted linen. And you shall take two onyx stones, and engrave on them the names of the children of Israel: six of the names on one stone, and the remaining six names on the other stone according to the order of their birth." "In the biblical symbology of the Apocalypse, the number seven is recurrent and therefore there were seven apostles chosen by Leonardo da Vinci. Saint John the Apostle says: The Last Supper tells me the greatest love of having it close as if I were in my house celebrating, gathered to stamp the facts in which I raised the cut of my bread towards the millennium of the future, to classify all the dates that It will commemorate us united in the sustenance that will feed the Earth forever and ever. In the stigma of this medallion, I will revive all my memories before arriving in Jaffa, before even walking anymore in the solitude that haunts us forever and ever, still not understanding by any measure, the crumbling and disordered existence that passes beyond death that is reborn in our non-existent Faith. They all sail in silence, all asleep on the deck around the medallion that did not stop shining and bathing them all in its splendid theology. All lie asleep and hypnotized with pleasure, the ship moved alone, at the will of the sacred wind that carried them in seventh silence, so that the snorting shoes of the night do not wake them up even a seventh sleep next to the solid gold medallion. Eurydice was still in the happy mask, now to lead everyone in peace, towards the meeting of the apostle's ancestors, towards the dawn of the secular dawn in Jaffa on its seventh sleepless night..., when they arrive at the seventh turn of the clouds in their fading weather with Aiónous and Zeus, being mere spectators of the tormented bullet of riddled lost. All lie asleep and hypnotized with pleasure, the ship moved alone, at the will of the sacred wind that carried them in seventh silence, so that the snorting shoes of the night do not wake them up even a seventh sleep next to the solid gold medallion. Eurydice was still in the happy mask, now to lead everyone in peace, towards the meeting of the apostle's ancestors, towards the dawn of the secular dawn in Jaffa on its seventh sleepless night..., when they arrive at the seventh turn of the clouds in their fading weather with Aiónous and Zeus, being mere spectators of the tormented bullet of riddled lost. All lie asleep and hypnotized with pleasure, the ship moved alone, at the will of the sacred wind that carried them in seventh silence, so that the snorting shoes of the night do not wake them up even a seventh sleep next to the solid gold medallion. Eurydice was still in the happy mask, now to lead everyone in peace, towards the meeting of the apostle's ancestors, towards the dawn of the secular dawn in Jaffa on its seventh sleepless night..., when they arrive at the seventh turn of the clouds in their fading weather with Aiónous and Zeus, being mere spectators of the tormented bullet of riddled lost.

Jaffa  Ioannis regression

Describes Vernarth: On a warm morning, archaeological evidence showed that Jaffa was inhabited around 7,500 BC. C. The natural port of Jaffa has been used since the early Bronze Age, and all of its early inhabitants were probably Canaanites. The city of Jaffa is mentioned in a 1470 BC preterite writing from ancient Egypt glorifying the conquest by Pharaoh Tuthmosis III who hid armed warriors in large baskets and then presented them to the city's Canaanite governor. Jaffa is mentioned in the Torah as one of the Hebrew cities of the Tribe of Dan and hence the term Gush Dan is used today for the coastal plain. Many descendants of Dan lived along the coast and made a living as sailors and sailors. In "Deborah's Song" the fortune-teller asks:" Why do you want Dan to stop me on ships? After the Canaanite and Philistine *******, King David and his son Solomon conquered Jaffa using its port to take the cedars used for the construction of the First Temple from the city of Tire (2nd Chronicles 2:16). The city remained in the hands of the Jews even after the division of the Kingdom of Israel. In 701 BC C., in the days of King Hezekiah and Assyrian King Sennacherib who invaded the Jaffa region. It is also the place where the prophet Jonah sailed for Tarshish (Book of Jonah 1:3) and was the port of entry for the cedars of Lebanon for the Second Temple in Jerusalem (Book of Ezra 3:7). After a period of Babylonian occupation, defeated King Porus at the Battle of Hydaspes (326 to.C.) In the New Testament it is related how Peter resurrected the believer Tabitha (Dorcas, in Greek, gazelle) in Joppa (Jaffa) and later, how near this city he has a vision in which Yahveh told him that he should not distinguish between Jews and Gentiles while ordering the removal of ritual food (kosher) restrictions followed by Jews. While Vernarth was describing all this history, everyone was paying attention, the beautiful situation of entering Jaffa in this thousand-year-old port was imminent so that they could touch the Holy Land with their feet with all the avatars that awaited them. Vernarth had this great preamble and gift to return from the Exile of Saint John due to his exile of him dictated by Emperor Domitian. They all came praying in the ship Eurydice left the figurehead to descend and move with them to Jerusalem. To go through the Lithostrotos, Gethsemane, the Via Dolorosa, Gólgotha, the Holy Sepulcher and many sacred places where the apostle had a correlation with the Messiah..., bordering were still in the hosts of all those who loved him, especially in the locality where they met with the apostles after the crucifixion in the Apostolic Sees where they are still seen to be together from the first day forever and ever. Some put foot in its pages to have been founded by one or more of Jesus' Apostles who are said to have dispersed from Jerusalem sometime after Jesus' crucifixion (c. 26-36), probably after the Great Commission. The early Christians met in small private houses known as paleo-Christian house churches, but the entire Christian community of a city could also attribute it to the fact that it would be called and ignored as an act of sedition to avoid misunderstandings with its anti-Romanesque legacy. In Limassol it dawned one day when another day was setting in Lod..., here they all got ready to have dinner together in a wheel of fire in the tents moved by a breath that reaches and bounces from their sallow tents to the walls of Jerusalem sensing that they came and went already with the Saint accompanying them. From the last dizziness of the sun, Uriel appeared to them telling them...: "On the bottom where a ship is born in some ruins and catacombs, the sentinels of the Limassol Medallion will reside, it will be jealously guarded by my peers Christian Gladiators of Kourion who are preserved in my fragmentary and honorific decrees, as well as in epitaphs. In neo diplomacy supporting Alexander the Great and Bucephalus protecting the Medallion. In the west of the river Lycus, the sentinels will go to the bottom of the sea every day to watch over it so that from here they shelter the Medallion with their tricks, which in such a way will be adopted for meritorious scriptural phraseology in the Walls of Jerusalem where other walls will follow it... Vernarth describes: "The Great Commission; Matthew 28:19-20 contains what is known as "the Great Commission": "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit; teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you, and behold, I am with you every day until the end of the world." Jesus gave this commandment to the apostles shortly before he ascended to Heaven and essentially describes what Jesus expected the apostles and those who followed them to do in His absence. It is delightful to see that in the original Greek the only specific command in Matthew 28:19-20 is to "make disciples". The Great Commission commands us to make disciples as we move through the world and as we go about our daily business. How are we to make disciples? Baptizing them and teaching them everything that Jesus commanded. "Make disciples" is the mandate of the Great Commission. "As you go," "baptize," and "teach" are means by which we fulfill the mandate to "make disciples." Many understand Acts 1:8 as also part of the Great Commission, "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." The Great Commission is enabled by the power of the Holy Spirit. We are to be Christ's witnesses fulfilling the Great Commission in our cities (Jerusalem) our states and countries (Judea and Samaria) and anywhere else God sends us (to the ends of the earth). The great commission it is the instruction of the resurrected Jesus Christ to his venerable apostles commissioning them to propagate his teachings to all the nations of the world. The most famous version of the Great Commission is Matthew 28: 18-20 where on a mountain in Galilee Jesus commands his followers to baptize all nations in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Even more than the Great Commission of the twelve apostles that together with that of Matthew and Mark as a lofty counterpoint are dividing twin souls among all to take the electro cathode of the god Azofar de Vernarth in the Parousia (In the second coming of Christ). Together with them, the electromagnetic Fides Pronus "Benevolent Faith" ruled by God ruling in the electro anode flow, giving ample way to the Great Universal Commission. The Apostle Saint John reinterprets it: "The Great Commission is Matthew 28:18-20, and later synoptic gospels, Luke also presents Jesus sending disciples during his ministry sending them to all nations and giving them power over demons including the Seventy disciples. The scattering of the Apostles in the traditional ending of Mark is believed to be a second-century summary based on Matthew and Luke." Everyone heard very astonished words so fluted without being able to go out and harmonize the ears of those who were there..., and there was no room for doubts or questions! Everyone thought to travel all the fields of the world in caravans of free ungulates so many times through the Holy Land, thus thinking of changing history for the flat legs of camelids, changing the dynamic quantum geography thus making them participate and go on a being from which we are divided mounted. In exile it would be fulfilled, Twelve camels came and invited them to get on and rest on their backs. Every hundred kilometers the deepest questions were answered by the camelids Saying...: Camelids say: "I carried San Juan on my ciliated membranous backs and Mateo too..., they never knew that I knew the end of the story..., that the Great Commission It would never end because all of us are witnesses and we continue wandering through the desert hoping to see the Master lighting our starry path of gifts on sacred nights to serve him again, Until the End of the Parousia...

Second Miracle  Holy sepulcher

When migrating the Wailing Wall on a Vigil Friday, the Apostle led some camels with his hands sheltered in reverberating Psalmody. The little animals appeared with him in this basilica, also hand in hand with Vernarth, Etréstles, and the others remained waiting at the threshold of the Anastasis. The ungulates were already without the blindfold on their eyes after having crossed the Door of Mercy or Golden Gate. The atmosphere was hermetic and charged as if it were pouring rain and the pilgrims were oppressed to take refuge in the heat of the candles on sacred ground. A reverberating solemn psalmody begins to permeate the unruly walls recalling the chants in this place similar to Golgotha ​​that reminded Saint John of having traveled it with the Messiah. Prince Uriel with super senses was out of tune with the Vexilla Regis, by the time the apostle had crossed the limen of this holy offertory in such a way that the harmonics were now in tune vibrating in a single nearby wave..., towards the demarcation that concentrates the line to the crypt of the Messiah.Etréstles was accompanied by Eurydice on his side, visibly overexcited, from the height of the ship a light falls on Etréstles's shoulder with an itching mass of flower of authentic flower of the Pampano Diadem of the vine leaf in Nazareth. On a Friday that dressed in Sunday gala that entered with bouquets in their palms, in volumes larger than their size, dragging them across the sacred floor of the basilica, all naked of ego and anxiety, submerged in a reigning and mournful regret of the predestined demagoguery of the faithfulness of not being channeled together with the souls of purgatory that from today refloat with the visit of the Saint, remaining in seen and not perceived multiplied more than any day without having been more close to the Messiah, although the days were only swampy darkness from the flesh of Acheron in this river of pain forking from the said Acheron unleashed in the deplored underworld, like an unhealthy marsh within a desolate landscape with downcast angels ruling in the little cloud of the splinter of thick Incense, where the ferryman Charon would take the souls of recently deceased expurgated to the repugnant quagmire. Sovereign she... Virga..., would illuminate her interior with her brain-cerebellum adonis below the Madonna before reviving him again in the submissive and servile eternal gaze clause. Etréstles succumbs in genuflection three times before confirming the tertiary one that would make him uncover his knees before the long altar, here his voice is inhibited, fading from the interior like a parchment burning from the glottis to the runaway esophagus. The three hold hands with Vernarth and the Apostle..., remaining so until they enter the tomb. They encounter flattering fuss in the stone where he was anointed before being entombed, and the Cistern where he was anointed, after which his cross was found several centuries later secondarily sheltered in various Chapels whose garden is close to the skull of the rock and the emaciated Golgotha ​​mound. Very close to the Herodian wall of the city of Jerusalem and even connected to it by a road, but outside the walls since Jewish regulations prohibited intramural burials except in the case of regents. then his cross was found several centuries later, secondarily housed in various Chapels whose garden is close to the skull of the rock and the bare Golgotha ​​mound. Very close to the Herodian wall of the city of Jerusalem and even connected to it by a road, but outside the walls since Jewish regulations prohibited intramural burials except in the case of regents. then his cross was found several centuries later, secondarily housed in various Chapels whose garden is close to the skull of the rock and the bare Golgotha ​​mound. Very close to the Herodian wall of the city of Jerusalem and even connected to it by a road, but outside the walls since Jewish regulations prohibited intramural burials except in the case of regents.Your quarry and garden entity in The Calvary skull, as the Gospels testify, must be found on the outskirts of the city in an area dedicated to sepulchers. From a vast quarry for the extraction of Malaki stone located just outside the walls, and which was used from the 8th to the 1st century BC to build the buildings of the citizens. When the quarry was abandoned, this area was used for small orchards and cultivable gardens on its rocky walls along the hill, and a series of family tombs were made. Golgotha ​​itself, the "mount" on which the crosses were nailed, had to appear as the top of a higher rock separated from the hill, a suitable place for the newest law of demonstrative execution of capital punishment. Since Herod Agrippa in 41-42 AD extended the circuit of the wall of Jerusalem to the northwest, Golgotha ​​began to form part of the city, and from an isolated place over time, it became an integral part and center of the city, again Aiónius seconded this assertion before protecting the Vernarth words.   Etréstles with his Hellenic heart of Messolonghi approaches his leisurely aura below the garden, here he suppresses his icy feet towards his head of Greek innocence in flat sustained prayer, ends and gets up without being able to turn around to see him again in this garden of stones abandoned, he retires, leaving only Vernarth and the Apostle. He runs off for incredible distances, retreating miles from there to an adjoining desert area. here he suppresses his icy feet towards his head of Greek innocence in flat sustained prayer, finishes, and gets up without being able to turn around to see him again in this garden of abandoned stones, he retires leaving only Vernarth and the Apostle. He runs off for incredible distances, retreating miles from there to an adjoining desert area. here he suppresses his icy feet towards his head of Greek innocence in flat sustained prayer, finishes, and gets up without being able to turn around to see him again in this garden of abandoned stones, he retires leaving only Vernarth and the Apostle. He runs off for incredible distances, retreating miles from there to an adjoining desert area. Midbar Yehuda..., north of Jerusalem to Tiqwa, where he stays for two days before returning to Jerusalem. Being here in the middle of the desert he realizes that he had lost from one of her saddlebags a sacred image that had accompanied him since time immemorial, it had been given to him by his wife Drestnia in Koumeterium Messolonghi after her awakening. He searches for her for two days following the same path that he took from the basilica, not being able to find her, until he addresses the archangel Uriel, answering him himself. Uriel exclaims: ...On your back the offertory, a few steps in front of you the Apostle, beyond the crowd looking at you. The souls in purgatory will ask you for help, they will do it for you. You will have to give them their demands in freedom from their purges. The Messiah in miserere from the roof will come down to love on the esplanade..., on your conscience with rays and lightning he will caress your face with his host, and those who do not enter his consecration will take them to pick them up from his own hands in your lost image escorted by despondent angels whimpering and embracing you...! Etréstles, goes terrified from his Anastasis and enters the palm of the last acid words of martyrdom in prosody of the cross hammering and unrolling before his eyes in a long trail of a woven shroud, presenting him with the recolored image to be rescued by his soul from throbbing thunder with numb hands and bolt of bushy and inappropriate displays of disbelief. It would be a great miracle not to lose light in the superior lights that bring the Sun closer to your hands. In this way, a holy miracle would be fulfilled, like the ramp of the silence of the celestial karmic boomerang.

Silence  Painful way

Describes Vernarth in parapsychological regression: Silence crashed over them in such a way that it massacred them from "oblivion - oblivion" from the Limassol to Jaffa stretch. Everyone believed that they had traveled on the Eurydice, but not so. A ship that came from the Lepanto shipyard supplanted them to protect the Gold medallion anchored in the roadstead protected by the Christian Gladiators of Kourion in Lod. Everyone was calmer when they made sure that a great layer of silence overwhelmed them, forgetting as a foretaste of continuing along the Via Dolorosa. The dawn tied him to the Silent Awakening near Jerusalem on a gray and silent day. Vernarth gets up, first of all, and prepares them unleavened breakfast, honey, and goat's milk.About 3700 million years ago the first living beings appeared on Earth, they were small unicellular microorganisms not very different from current bacteria. Such cells are classified among prokaryotes because they lack a nucleus (karyon in Greek), a specialized compartment where the genetic machinery is stored. The prokaryotes achieved complete success in their development and multiplication, thanks to their remarkable capacity for evolution and adaptation, giving rise to a wide diversity of species and invading as many habitats as the planet could offer them. The biosphere would be full of prokaryotes if there had not been the extraordinary advance from which a cell belonging to a very different type arose: eukaryote, that is; It has a genuine core. In this evolutionary cellular space, they were invaded by a Vertical Silence that would have to spread throughout the troposphere and the consequences of this event marked the beginning of a new numeral linear lapse, until the consequences of this event marked the beginning of a new era. Nowadays, multicellular organisms are made up of eukaryotic cells, which are much more complex than prokaryotes. If eukaryotic cells had not appeared, the extraordinary variety, so rich in ranges, of animal and plant life on our planet would not exist now; nor would man have made an appearance to enjoy such diversity and extract its secrets. Bi similar eukaryotic cellsringed in metamorphic geological strata, pressing the atmosphere, the air and the earth, compressing the geological layers and gaseous atmospheres thatthey did not exist as a consequence of these intense pressure changes by order of the Higher Universal consciousness with overflowing temperatures and multi-chemical environments; dispersing the changes that are associated with the forces that fold on the shore of what is current Greece. Said layer faults scattered eukaryotic cells enveloped in "Silent Libertarian Material", injecting magma creating creative prominences on the attached rocks, becoming exhausted, perhaps only to be a cellular polytheism perhaps derived from multicellular cellular evolution..., turning into a sexed fusion of a great regeneration of Lithophagas species in the region..., perhaps in Colophon where Homer was infected. Well, this presumption would have to create a syncretic elaboration with that of Aristotle and Plato as eukaryotic cells, to start from this Lithophaga flower, which is rooted beneath its roots in this bivalve mollusk unleashing proto seeds of prehistoric poetic inspiration, in super souls synchronously starting each one in this mollusk plant that is thus regreened and personified, originating epic poetics in what prehistoric and the human phenotype. This hypersensitive cellular mega-complex is possible with the respect that I deserve to cite it, the innate and spontaneous hyper ethnobotany and hyper sapiens mollusks that were conceived for millions of years delegating their sublime hypostases in creation. I quote here The word Poetry from the Greek ( Poiein: "Do or Create"). From this vertical revolution, the Silence of the Via Dolorosa intrinsic to the same ontological, geological, Theological, and evolutionary concepts will emanate. Scientific and Poetic-Sacred, linked to the creation from "Nothing" to an "Everything". Everything is revealed before our backs, everything is offered before our eyes, everything comes from the soft creative wrath of lightning, everything is consecrated to silence..., but nothingness moves what the whole forgot centrifuged by phenomena of atomicity of greater forces of the Silence of the Messiah, praying in constant practice the generation in front of our theoretical faces in front of our Everything and the Nothingness of an empty supply. "Silence Waits for Time... to see,... I commend my Being to time" founds the greatest silence ever felt only heard more than an ultrasound of waves that articulate one over another in algorithmic chanting that emanate from "Mariah's Silence to her son" also to Homer, Aristotle, and Plato attached to the Lithophaga releasing Eukaryotes. When Aristotle and Plato uprooted the Lithophaga as axiomatic leaders, they revealed the Silence of Creation and poetic anathemas, alluding to their true ancestors who slipped down their bandullos like an elongated moraine sweeping their navel Samskaras such traces of their own personalities leading wisdom with an origin common prehistoric cell.

Ita *** Dolore: Saint John the Apostle stood up in silence with profuse deafness even in spirit..., all the others were equally traumatized from feeling the stones engraved with fear and pain "Ita *** Dolore". They didn't see in colors everything was gray and shades of white, black between cells..., like being inside the suffering cell lost of all consciousness. Everyone confuses about their clothes, their outfits, nobody knew who each one was, only Vernarth and San Juan knew. Raeder and Petrobus, Alikanto, and Eurídice only wandered sleepwalking along the rocky road in the cobbled streets flanked by works erected from sobbing Malaki material, from stones very similar to those that Jesus would have seen following this pristine route. The Stations of the Cross were marked by plaques, vaulted chapels, and signs along the way of lacerating and flagellant stops of more than forty degrees of burning in each feverish step and enclosed vaulting.

Ellipse Messiahas a child: "Mother...; when I went up the stairs..., I stopped at the fourteenth step..., in perfect mathematics opening the sky..., like a sacrosanct aromatic book; Well, I thought you would believe me dressed there! Mother when I went down the fourteen steps and put my last foot before you..., I could see how I sang in the thirty-three on a rainy Friday afternoon, clinging to you..., accompanying me along the stairs that you did not know..."

1st Station of the Cross in Silence

Ita *** Dolore, Jesus was tried and sentenced to death in the Praetorium of Pontius Pilate, he will bring silence in each interval that did not oppose resistance from the flagellant whips."Mother...; when I went up the stairs..."The apostle closes his eyes, Vernarth takes him in his arms.

2nd Station of the Cross

The second station marks where Jesus took up his cross and recalls his doom. Romans beat Jesus and the Chapel of Judgment which commemorates the site where Jesus was sentenced. Here he feels like a child... "Mother...; when I went down the stairs...?"


3rd Station of the Cross

The third station is where Jesus first fell under the weight of his cross. This station is not far from the Ecce **** (Behold the Man), Saint John remembers the Last Supper in anticipation, sitting next to him... he got up from dinner, took off his mantle, and took a towel, he girded himself.... "Mother...; when I went up the stairs..."

4th Station of the Cross

The fourth station marks where Mary saw her son pass by. The 19th-century Armenian Church of Our Lady marks this station. Deaf Vernarth manages to hear voices from heaven saying: "Mother...; when I came down from the ladder...?"

5th Station of the Cross

At the fifth station, the Roman soldiers instructed Simon of Cyrene to help Jesus carry his cross (Luke 23). ..., "Mother I stopped at the fifth step and I never hesitated to wash your feet"

6th Station of the Cross

The sixth station marks where Veronica wiped Jesus' face with her veil. It is believed that the image of the face of Jesus was imprinted on the cloth."Mother...; when I went down the stairs you covered my sweaty face..."

7th Station of the Cross

At the seventh station, Jesus faltered under the weight of the cross for the second time. "Mother...; when I climbed the ladder..., I saw the lost mountain..."

8th Station of the Cross

The eighth station is where the "daughters of Jerusalem weep for Jesus" (Luke 23, 27). Jesus stopped here to comfort the women, telling them not to weep for him, but for themselves and their children.."Mother...; when I went down the stairs you were not there, you were coming for me..."

9th Station of the Cross

At the ninth station, Jesus faltered a third time before his final ascent to Golgotha. "Mother...; When I went up the stairs to find you, you were in front of me..."

9th-14th Stations of the Cross

The Stone of Anointing is believed to have been where Jesus was placed after being taken from the cross. Here he would have been prepared for burial. The Bible tells us that Jesus' body was wrapped in linen and anointed with oils and spices in accordance with Jewish funeral rites. "Mother...; when I went down the stairs you covered me from the cold and wrapped me with your passion..."


The 14th Station of the Cross – The Tomb of Christ

Here Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth were still deaf, but with slight symptoms of recovery of their hearing. They saw in front of them how deaf angels came to uncover their auditory channels, being of their intuition proclaiming courage to accompany them with their teacher to the aedicule towards the crypt itself granted by José de Arimathea. The Chapel of the Angel contains a small piece of the rock that closed the burial cave of Christ, the chapel that leads to the tomb itself. It was here that Jesus was buried and rose three days after his death. "This small rectangular structure of the Edicule marks the end of the Via Dolorosa and the Deafness of everyone and the Whole World"

Saint Ioannis Song of the Messiah, Vernarth describes by the voice of Saint John the Apostle: "Since the beginning of Samaria I had my father Zebedeo in my manifestations..., my mother Salomé and brother apostle Santiago together with me in my declared voice. My father as a fisherman if he saw us grow and left us in the boat after the Messiah called us believing he would not see us grow anymore! My father lived in Bethsaida and developed his commercial activity on the Sea of ​​Galilee or Tiberias, together with us between Capernaum and Bethsaida I walked escorted by the voices of the silence of freedom; Said peace prostrated me to monuments that oscillate on the invisible wings of the legions asking me to join their hand in hand for hours..., and in great circles, since I got on the boat flooded with Faith with the Master. This is what I call seeing the homonymous village located on the western shore of this sea become its monument of silence and the heritage of the House of Fishing in Bethsaida. I always knew that my father had a parental agreement with the Master, being my uncle since my mother Salomé has been identified as the sister of our Mariah.From Capernaum, since I walked and grew up among nets, boats and from where six others accompanied me as my brothers and fellow apostles. Thus, natives, we give our seals and predilections to the Lord for navigating us in the divine water of the Jordan, here I was a fisherman and brother of the fish that also spoke for me..., for the proverbs that identify my closeness with the family lineage of Capernaum. Jesus from the depths of his being with his throat upwards called Santiago and me "sons of thunder" for our impetuous character that was revealed in some events reported in others. The two of us together with San Pedro..., constituted the most intimate core of the master. I was favored by those who reserved my presence with the ****** Mariah where she was trembling in her clothes at the foot of the cross when our Father Master Messiah died, drawing us closer to all of us from that day further than we thought could protest. In this epithet now is where I point to the one who invited me to his boat in Skalá, Patmos; "Vernarth", also a son of the Lord, invited me to return to my original land. Always from Patmos He kept sending me, I received messages at the crossroads of the winds and through anagrams on the tail of the fish..., in their mouths in Aramaic, so that they could be brought from where my roots fill your abundant fish farming..., a common rhizome that in his parables they hear him, that from his brambles the crickets boil in his golden presence, golden passion, and golden agony even me looking at him with my eternal eyes with my painful eyes of apocalypse crying..., even seeing how I went with him to Golgotha ​​in his arms, imitating him in his courage more than in himself and in all those who did not see him leave." "Far away in my exile sentenced by Domitian, I wrote the Gospel and their epistles in Ephesus and the Apocalypse on Patmos, in the Aegean. Both in our Gospel and in the prophetic visions of the Apocalypse, I was invaded by the high-altitude doctrinal and symbolic language of the passages next to the Master. I was the eagle evangelizing, flying in terror to Patmos, and I know that your eagle will take me to Ephesus to sleep in the gospel of the Lord eternally." "I was never a child, I was always who I am if I was a child..., only my parents managed to see it because I was already sitting as if I were in the same Transfiguration, Pentecost, with the daughter of Jairus, in Lake Tiberias and in his miraculous departure in Gethsemane." "I was always who I am..., I never felt that my bones grew in proportion to the distances that would allow me to walk faster than an Eagle, but not so in my parents who did not see my leafy feet of plumage, Next Reign of Jesus of Nazareth in a kind of apology I will be for him again as a child recognizing him even as present and future Father" here he was housed in these Othóns or quantum Azofar screens, guaranteeing him to be federated to his inheritance for the centuries to come. Christian Itheoi genus. Vernarth looks at him and hugs him for a long time, everyone else does the same. They leave Capernaum to start their way through innumerable routes to Nazareth, trying to find a new path but a Golden Eagle or Gerakis appeared to them telling them where to go next...it would probably be where the Master went through the dedications on an INRI wood...where thousands of eagles would pose his claws containing his bleeding..., more than a "Meta-language reigning in all Believers of attachment sustained in his shroud" as I did, perhaps singing in conspicuous languages ​​that would meet him more than an expert, more than a language close to the zeal that covered us, dismantling itself from the friendly path that sustained us, shortening its objective. Our mission is to meet the ancestors of Maryah and her Sigil, which floods with essences towards her son,



Paraps XXV

Messiah of Judah II part

Miracle III - Nazareth

Parapsychological regression, Vernarth describes by the voice of the Apostle Saint John: "They all came from Capernaum with the embedded shutters of INRI in their hands, Alikantus in their hooves and Petrobus in their webbed golden fingers. Everyone walked unevenly perhaps because from the Higher Consciousness the Abba had leaned towards the south center towards the west tilting the earth twelve degrees which made him change course to Nazareth. The miraculous thing was to see how the animals Petrobus and Alikanto felt them and saw euphonies coming out of their mouths in octaves multiplied by eight; that is to say, sixty-four inverted notes, averaging the notes that arrived the other way around from being heard in their retro melody, perhaps diverting them to a hillside in Canaan. After such a miraculous phenomenon, the golden eagles perched on the heads of the twelve ungulates, diverting them to Nazareth and guiding them to an ancient stone where the inscriptions in Hebrew-Aramaic "Stem-Branch" can be seen. They were sweating on their Gigas camels like Nazarene princes reigning in consolation by forking like the ground even beyond the two-dimensional concept of Nazareth, either a stem proclaiming the ominous prophetic of the Messiah or proclaiming the Renewal in sacred circulation to have a 360 ° perspective, for the ancient worldview being housed as a perfect clone on the geography of Nazareth in 14.14 square km, based on the southern mountains of Lower Galilee, 10 km north of Mount Tabor and 23 km west of the Sea of ​​Galilee. Miracles must be outlined between the extreme points of each cross..., the stature of the image between foot and head, the cosmogony of the link between Nazareth, Capernaum, and vice versa, mysteries of the silence of those who only see in light and dark of Marian repentance, would be now in front of everyone with the Credulity Gene. The Giga Camels carried them tenaciously with their wise feet from Capernaum. Here is the Miracle; They were at the fourteenth station in Jerusalem, which St. Ioannis later explained in his childhood memoirs with his family in Bethsaida. It was then from here that in some bend of its inspiration that the valleys would turn towards another geological family to present it at the table with renewed olive oils together with its parents. Where they would leave directly guided by the royal eagles towards the stone of Nazareth. Describes Vernarth in the voice of Saint John: "The Archangel Uriel dictates him; those who preach alone in the streets or corners preach the rejection of those who do not count how many times they were approved or challenged, and at least the times that more than any extreme had to be heard beyond the most distant hiding places in which they did not they will be able to know to be recognized" Saint John continues: "On this tacit diameter in the narrow part of the bergamot that is towards the south and opens through a narrow and sinuous throat towards the plain of Esdraelón. It would be pointed out here as "the top of the mountain" from where they wanted to throw Jesus off the cliff. But the traditional place does not have a true ravine, as a story would seem to require. Further only to a spring in the town is the so-called Fountain of the ****** where Mariah obtained the consecrated water for her family from there. "In this super diameter, Etréstles wanted to find the childhood periods of the Messiah and thus be able to see him advance in his growth, but he knew that perhaps the hidden mystery of the stem that only grows in the discord of Nazareth, invaded by foreign civilizations, could not be verified. that did not allow them to stretch boundaries beyond the entire concordant Universe. In Patmos I always had the precognition that above..., above the doors of the unknown..., there must be anti-material physiognomies that will move offspring that in twin lands would be housed in Judah. As we approached the perimeter of the city we dared to cross, whose text contains the decree issued by another Roman emperor not mentioned, which prohibits under pain of death the robbery of tombs including those of relatives or changing a body from one tomb to another. The date of registration is discussed. Someplace it at the beginning of the empire period; others in s. II AD It is highly unlikely that they have any direct relation to the ignoble accusation leveled at us disciples that we had stolen our Master's body. I keep digressing without the accuracy of what I say, it's been tens of years without being here, I only know that I am attracted by the rhythm of the music of religious worshipers from Nazareth. just as I heard when they were at the height of a rosy vine near Mariah's house in Nazareth..., here Uriel describes Nicodemus: Uriel says: (Meditation of Saint John the Apostle) "Nicodemus talks about the meaning of being born again and mentions the Kingdom of the Heavens, very rare in the Johannine texts, Jesus was surprised in short to see that a teacher in Israel did not understand the discourse on rebirth in the spirit. Later, in the council of chief priests and Pharisees, Nicodemus defends Jesus, explaining to his companions that they must listen and investigate before making a final judgment. The question they ask him may imply that Nicodemus was a Galilean or it could be an irony of his companions." I'm still on my own from today rambling without accuracy in what I say..., it's been tens of years without being here, I only know that the rhythm of the music of the religious cults of Nazareth will attract me. These images will make me observe Vernarth notice in me and in all these advanced episodes, this is transmitted by Saint John the Apostle. Eurydice took note and dared to dance in the warm senses that throbbed under her feet, signaling to renew herself in an Offshoot of the seed that grows hidden in the shortness of every Nazarene born here.Expressions of freedom and glory appear throughout the village the world dances in the part of the ministerial bends attached to the Holy Spirit. Flowing dance ministered by Levites and worshipers of the Lord God Almighty God or Yahweh in a spontaneous way, salvific and with healing interweaving the existential and vernacular ribs of the chosen people worshiping the Prophet. All danced together and anointed, enjoying the ceremony. Vernarth thought his magical ears thundered with Levitical echoes as he was under the supra-starry sky of the Christian world that repeated itself, returning with a new one appearing at each interval of the festivities, everyone did them as they came and went with the pillars of their Faith rolling, and they covered with the mantle of the night flooded with ceremonial Vines and ministerial Bread like a great vault in a great ominous mansion. Here where the Messiah from heaven will trepan his senses, Feeling emotion and art, all braiding like alpha beginners until finishing the stupid omega dance. We will fulfill a company of prophets descending from above preceded by lutes, drums, flutes, and harps. Thus the sons and daughters will be celebrating with Cherubim in unmistakable steps praising Him.This Hebrew-Biblio dance will end in adoration on a warm night that continues to reach the imperceptible senses where everyone celebrates and intertwines with trans content affection with everyone celebrating in the ceremony. Then they went to the tents near the Messiah's house to sleep concelebrating in tiny circles. Everyone was very excited..., not being able to fall asleep believing not believing that perhaps they would never again live something like this in a city forever whether to live it or not..., eating and drinking the same Nazarene Bread and Wine. All this was closely witnessed by the god Nothofagus in the middle of some brambles, it has adhered to the fungi that persisted in the brilliant brilliance to personify them in the Genus Itheoi. Hanukkah was coming to Vernarth, it was the Liberation of Judah as another purpose of Vernarth's physical and parapsychological regression in the arms of Hanukkah, purging his spiritual body to leave his Piece of Muscle rubbed on the helpless ground, perhaps carrying his non-biodegradable shell matter in his Leonatus; as a new prince replacing Alexander the Great in the true Hellenic polis adopted and claimed on the soil of Judah. On the walls of air in Gaugamela, I sliced ​​with my Xiphos and Kopis leaving them now dry and sheathed..., to serve Saint John the Apostle and our Lord in the work of the Messiah. For this, we have been revived as inclemency in this festivity of the former Hetairoi strategist of the hosts of the Great Alexander the Great. For this task when they left Nazareth, When it arrives under the finger of Nablus, it is intercepted by these voracious sacred lights coming from the Abrahamic eras, perhaps from Lot in his cave to immunize his offspring. Also known as the "Festival of Lights or Luminaries". This Jewish festival of lights commemorates the rededication of the Second Temple in Jerusalem and the Maccabean rebellion against the Seleucid Empire. Celebrated for eight days, the Hanukkah festival dates back to the time of Hellenic hegemony in Israel, beginning with the conquests of Alexander the Great in 332 BC. C., who at his passing freed the Jewish people from the oppression of Persia, leaving Israel as an independent kingdom-state. After his death, the vast empire remained in the hands of his generals, who entered into war conflicts with each other, for which centuries later the Seleucid Greeks tried to gain control of the region, as can be read in the books of I and II Maccabees, where this festivity commemorates the defeat of the Hellenes and the recovery of Jewish independence at the hands of the Maccabees over the Greeks of the Seleucus dynasty, and the subsequent purification of the Second Temple of Jerusalem from pagan icons, in the 2nd century BC. C. Vernarth, was here as a commander when he freed them from the boot of the Persians, remembering the epic of him when he was a servant of the oppressed legions. He thus freed them forming part of this history which has threads of messianic history and culture cracking gaps for evangelization, that looms under the robes of El Nazareno like a child's story..., to be told to adults with nine Hanukkah candles. Jewish tradition speaks of a miracle in which the temple candlestick could be lit for eight consecutive days with a meager amount of oil that was only enough for one. This gave rise to the main custom of the festivity, which is to progressively light a nine-armed candlestick called Hanuquiá, one for each of the days plus a pilot arm. Vernarth describes: "Our Entry into the soil of Judah..., as luminaries we were received, our messianic introduction will change history in its objectivism freeing the Hebrews from the Persian empire. Inopportune were the new masses of the departure of Alexander the Great who, after freeing them, his minions wanted to appropriate a free inheritance that only belongs to Yahweh. Seleucus, being an officer appointed by Alexander the Great, was appointed chief of the Hypaspists (elite soldiers and spearmen) on a date close to 330 BC. C., for this reason, I looked many times at your countenances, seeing in them the voracity and anti-national vocation to exorbitant the limits of unwary power. This is why in the death of our great general..., Seleucus tried to dominate Judah, skillfully raising the exhumation of the general pointing to a drastic change by pointing his finger at the transgressor! Being justly consummated and deported by the Maccabees. Festival of Lights Celebration of Dedication and Celebration of the Maccabees. Children receive gifts, especially in areas where Jewish and Christian children are in close contact. Hanukkah commemorates the victory of the Maccabees over the Syrians as well as the re-dedication of the Second Temple in Jerusalem around 165 BC. The re-dedication was necessary because the Seleucid king of Syria, Antiochus IV Epiphanes had desecrated the temple by installing an altar to Zeus on the site. When the Maccabees began to prepare the temple for rededication they found that they only had enough oil to light it for one night. In the end, the oil lasted eight days until the new delivery of the new consecrated resource, the candles are lit every night of Hanukkah to commemorate the miracle. During the first night, a candle is lit in a special candlestick called a menorah or hanukkiah. Here Reaeder with Petrobus joined this beautiful festivity, paying special attention to the Dreidel pirinola, which seemed very didactic among the game that captured their full attention. Eurydice and Etrestles holding a candlestick in each hand would begin the second night by adding a candle until eight candles were reached on the last night. The candles are lit by a separate candle called a shamash here was Alikanto and Vernarth with Saint John the Apostle lighting it first and then using it to light the other candles. The candles are installed in the menorah from right to left but are lit from left to right. A symbol of Hanukkah is the dreidel, a pirinola with which a game is played. Before the Maccabean Revolt, it was illegal for people to read the Torah under Antiochus IV Epiphanes, when the soldiers arrived the Jews pretended to play a game of chance involving a pirinola. They satiated traditional Hanukkah foods such as latkes or potato pancakes fried in oil as another way to incorporate the memory of the Maccabees free from all invaders, predicting more light than their own Sun.This is how they would culminate this festivity among themselves, in Nablus before reaching Bethlehem south through the desert with their twelve Giga camels..., the luminaries would take them camping through the Nablus desert south to Bethlehem.

Bethlehem ******, Hemophilic Camel so Vernarth describes: "They were falling down a ***** typified as a rebellion of angels. In such a disorder, they have seen a new language and numeral concept. Given before the componential of Steeds, Pelicans, Masked Nymph, Leader of Messolonghi Cemeteries, Vernarth Commander Hetairoi and Saint John the Apostle, wading through the desert of Nablus on mission ****** and the Giant Camels, the twelfth and last of them afflicted with the morbid sin. ****** or ******; is the name of the biblical character described as the son of ***, son of Cam who was the son of Noah. Although the Bible does not mention him directly since ancient times, tradition has considered ****** as the builder of the Tower of Babel. Since the tower was built on his territory and during his reign, it is assumed that it was under his direction that the construction began. But there are also other non-biblical sources, which indicate the opposite, alleging that ****** was not in the region of Shinar when the construction began. His name became proverbial as a "mighty hunter in opposition to YHWH (Jehovah)" His kingdom comprised Babel (Babylon), Erech (Uruk), Accad (Akkad), and Calneh in the land of Shinar also known as the land of ******" Vernarth replied: "They came and went, dragging their ancient Palestinian and Hebrew feet..., helped by ****** to understand and adore each other "When they were on the road from Nablus on the carpets of Kfar Tapuach, a hemophilic effusion occurred in one of their Giant Camels that accompanied them so separated from the remaining eleven, remaining in the hands of Saint John the Apostle. "From that moment on seeing how the camel was bleeding, the apostle falls into a trance remembering the annunciation that will have to take place in the whirlpool of biblical time when they arrive at Bethlehem." The Angel Gabriel will reincorporate right here when he said to Mary: "Do not be afraid, Mariah, because you have found grace before God; you will conceive in the womb and give birth to a son, whom you will name Jesus." Then the Camel turned around and said...:"I will be there..., seeing his short feet and his long crying confusing them at night in those who are jealous of him for his smiles of an infant of seven..." The camel in telepathy transmits to Saint John: "All of us have a long road ahead of us, the road of life that we have to follow day after day. Today it flows strongly in me, unable to stop my torrent like my previous parents who were never able to cross Palestinian land. I represent the line of Gigas Camels guides since the angel Gabriel spoke to Mary; For this reason and because I am an energetic guide on the path of life leading the chosen ones of the Messiah. With challenges of long distances and terrain with adverse spiritual conditions, that is why I have inherited the ancient blood that has traveled over my Palestine and Hebrew. Biblical time... It has determined in me that so much blood has been shed since the Messiah left for the House of our God, that being a camelid in flower every two years when this hemophilia crisis hits me, incarnating in others the sins that will be amortized with his body and his blood. My liver belongs to my Palestinian masters, they eliminate the viruses in my body but the healthy genes are Hebrew and remain in me for a short time until dawn. My time is more than the southern time process is the southern temple opening it on my consciousness of the pages of the Bible "Before the stakes of the World come out of the straps that hold it..." that being a camelid in flower every two years when this hemophilia crisis hits me, incarnating in others the sins that will be amortized with his body and his blood. My liver belongs to my Palestinian masters, they eliminate the viruses in my body but the healthy genes are Hebrew and remain in me for a short time until dawn. My time is more than the southern time process is the southern temple opening it on my consciousness of the pages of the Bible "Before the stakes of the World come out of the straps that hold it..." that being a camelid in flower every two years when this hemophilia crisis hits me, incarnating in others the sins that will be amortized with his body and his blood. My liver belongs to my Palestinian masters, they eliminate the viruses in my body but the healthy genes are Hebrew and remain in me for a short time until dawn. My time is more than the southern time process is the southern temple opening it on my consciousness of the pages of the Bible "Before the stakes of the World come out of the straps that hold it..." Saint John the Apostle replies: Few words and numbers are rolled from Nablus, they will be decoded by ******..., collecting the months so that we can see an increase in the proteins responsible for blood coagulation and in the reconciliation of the Palestinian-Hebrew world. This treatment will actually heal his hemophilia with both fatherlands in me, not only by treating him and reducing the bleeding but to pay for the sins of these salty nations already prophesied for our salvation that the Messiah judged.Saint John, taking the leg of the Giga Camel, caresses him..., he makes a gesture not to feel pain, but as an anti-death, he begins to heal his wound, covering himself with flowers of the Hebrew spring. A candid and volatile mass of Rose of Saron petals settled on the camel's leg. While Vernarth tried and helped him cut off a certain portion of his leg. But a miraculous fusion flower occurs that is mixed in its leg and from the same stem of the flower, regenerating the gangrenous part of the Giga camel..., in a great time of the Temple growing in God forgiving the Palestinian and Christian sins, juxtaposed to their illnesses almost being guests of a crippled scientific metaphor..., but much more Christian Salvific. The camel recovers and they put out the fires, they continue through the desert on the carousel of the camel's parents' lullaby, singing tenderly to their son camel, that they would never leave him alone and that his words were restored and decoded by ******'s command to his ears. Not far from Him, with words and strange Palestinian neologies and numbers of the Menorah lit up to the right. Shortly thereafter to reach Bethlehem, almost like synchronizing the magical steps under a star that heals and renews all the meat of the camels in the human world, before being listed to the eternal wind of the native village of the Messiah. with words and odd Palestinian neologies and numbers of the Menorah to the right lit. Shortly thereafter to reach Bethlehem, almost like synchronizing the magical steps under a star that heals and renews all the meat of the camels in the human world, before being listed to the eternal wind of the native village of the Messiah. with words and odd Palestinian neologies and numbers of the Menorah to the right lit. Shortly thereafter to reach Bethlehem, almost like synchronizing the magical steps under a star that heals and renews all the meat of the camels in the human world, before being listed to the eternal wind of the native village of the Messiah.

*** bei Hinnom  Crypto-Crucified

Following the route of Arimathea and then Emmaus with our tired feet we entered the region of the southwest towards Jerusalem, to *** Bei Hinnom specifically. Obviously, we were going to Bethlehem, but the Apostle decided to spend the night here.Vernarth speaks through the voice of the Apostle: "The open southwest gate of Jerusalem points into the valley, which came to be known as the valley of the son of Hinnom. Here the Israelite residents used to perform rites that worshiped Moloch presaging destruction. In those ancient times the Canaanites sacrificed children to the god Moloch by setting them on fire and burning them alive...; a practice that was outlawed by King Josiah when the practice disappeared, it became a city dump where garbage was incinerated, and also the carcasses of animals or those of some criminals. The dump and the fire make the metaphor to indicate that "Garbage" (disobedient) are those that burn day and night. Later, after this narration..., the Apostle took them to Mount Zion, where the coffin of King David is.

Parapsychological insert Vernarth Pandemic MMXX, comments...: (Here the god Vélus has Zefian's arrows to wear the Magaf or boot that would unleash this Antonine plague in Italy, until the resource of the MMXX in the modern world, as it was in 165 AD C.: Magaf in Hebrew means "Boot" since the quarantine began in March..., it continues to occur in Israel in a nation with a vast history of pandemics, it is that since immemorial biblical times it has always been hit by plagues, it has been a maximum in comparing it with the reality of the world that does not mutate in its virulent evolution. It has a Bota root, which could be related to social passages of the Bible in the context of Quarantine, which in Hebrew means isolation "בידוד", which has a similar root to Magaf, giving the genesis to which this apology coincidentally raised the virological expansion in Italy, suggesting its geography in the form of a "Boot" such as Italy. From where the itch of this Pandemic began to the secular world in great mortality statistics reissued in the current world. The Valley of Death exemplifies water opening, and Arab and Israelite slopes. Polytheism instituted among the archaic social networks degenerating the infallible root to which each one belongs in its independentist root of aggressive trait and autonomous to survive on themselves. Moloch or Melech, as they are called by the Jews today, is a conductive agent of overcrowding of the archaeo-cultural, practicing trades of high violent Intercultural Religious confrontation. Two intuitive cultures two nations, with different gods and languages, both walked through burning Gehenna as ancient culture in their inseparable history that tied them by invading hands in the past-present. Avodah Zarah in Hebrew: "foreign cult" is the name of a Talmudic treatise of the Nezikin order of the Mishnah and Talmud. Nezikin is the fourth-order of the Mishnah and the Talmud, Nezikin is an order dealing with the laws relating to harm. The main subject of the Avodah Zarah treaty is the laws regarding the Jews living among the Gentiles the goyim, in the treaty are included the regulations on the interaction between the Jews and the "idolaters" which represented the majority of the population not Jew or Gentile during the writing of the Babylonian Talmud. The Apostle says:"On Mount Zion I was with the master in "The Last Supper". Very close to *** Bei Hinnom, what predicts Life and Death beyond our beliefs but if it is death..., it is the angel in his consort who is accompanied by others, freeing us from the sin that we hide, crushing us in the overloaded Karma" Replies Vernarth: "beyond our paths to build..., today we are submerged in a techno-idolatry, subjugated to the trans-nationality of global networks that deliberate and trans-compete under our tutelage, with no other options than to live together avoiding slavery itself before Moloch, sacrificing our children to the altar of the aforementioned "Technotheism", giving them intelligence beyond all the valleys that force us to depend on an overwhelming social and technological electromagnetic dependency. Falling noisily backward onto a ritual hillside to plausibly be handed over to us as "Human Technological Trash." Depositing in us millions and trillions of neutrinos and radiations through universal space like that of any Mythological god, lying abandoned in time without end..., beyond Life and Fabulous Death. Or perhaps our Last Supper..., it will be very present in our daily lives in this incipient technological techno-theism, worshiping the God who will imprison us in his algorithms as a whole man, or perhaps one day be traded in Crypto-Currencies by a broker on Wall Street, to be handed over and betrayed by this Broker-Judas to our crypto-crucified collapse, paying for the sins of others burned in Gehenna, on burning garbage that we ourselves have deposited and No! emits Amblyseius: They were on the Hebrew ***** of *** Bei Hinnom preparing to sleep. Bright wells could be seen around him, once everyone tired joined their experiences around the campfire, the Apostle went with Vernarth to pray on the northeast *****. Walking in silence and with burning fear they were circulating with austere care not to fall into these imaginary wells in the fangs of the gates of hell and its crater tempting them to get lost among it..., before reaching Bethlehem Says Vernarth: "They estimated a well of seventy meters in diameter and equal in depth with high temperatures that emanated from there in a sulfur mixture..., the apostle prospected and witnessed how the earth swallowed some natural elements that were there. The most surprising thing was the gases that flowed through real Gerakis that were abducted into permeable, heavy,  and bluish monoatomic that emerged from the underground cave of some Canaanite god.Thousands of years of expectorating and having the bronze crackle of swords of justice in the "biblical blue" of a possible Hebrew tekhelet, neither I nor anyone else could recreate or imagine what it could be in itself. Random face from the time of the Second Temple, which towered over Jerusalem until it was destroyed by the Romans where a blue dye of the same name would be used to color the fabric used in the clothing of the priests..., admonishing them on its perimeter."A Jewish man who was still commanded to wear a 'tekhelet' thread in the knotted fringes of their prayer shawls, although it might seem that was left unclear for years.The source of the Tekhelet is not specified well in the. According to himTekhelet's dye is produced from a sea creature known as the Ḥillazon; which is the exclusive source of the colorant. There are three opinions in rabbinic literature as to how many are to be blue: 2 cords; 1 rope; 1 half string These strands are then threaded and hang down like tassels that appear to be eight. The four filaments are passed through a hole 25 to 50 mm away from the corners of the four corner fabric. A comparative deception has been made of trying to touch it because they looked harmless and silky when touched.Fearing that the crater would cause the appearance of apocryphal mites dressed as a priest with Tekhelet that was sustained in its physiognomy, with the escape of various dangerous natural gases determined to self-incinerate. They estimated that they would be extinguished in a few minutes, however, it has been burning for centuries and parading before curious maravedís; As precognition to the business of the Inquisition charging money to Jewish converts in exchange for rehabilitating them.Since then it has burned non-stop and provided an impressive melodrama in keeping with the creaking of the valley walls that were outside and close to the southern wall of ancient Jerusalem, also stretching from the Valley of Hinnom to the Kidron Valley. Saint John the Apostle speaks: "I will mention a Valley like that of Cedrón..., a place that our Messiah traveled as the Gospel refers to He passed with us to the other side of the Cedrón torrent where there was a garden into which he and his disciples entered. The ravine of the Cedrón valley begins northwest of Jerusalem resting on a slight depression of about twenty meters that reaches a depth of one hundred meters. The wells like a quantum leap, he rushed us into both depressions, witnessing pre-cognitive Christology..., "The henchmen took him along the Kidron Valley to the gate near the pool of Siloam; and then they scaled the steep path that led to the common palace of Annas and Caiaphas, on the height that is now called Hill Zion." We feel divine and mystical assistance that were intertwined from *** Bei Hinnom to the Kidron Valley in each depression that flowed the extradition of the Messiah, whose previous referendum would splinter his hands staked on his resonated feet and his intra rib. On the way between Gethsemane and the palace of Annas and Caiaphas, I felt an aggressive impulse pass over the bridge over the Cedrón torrent, throwing our Messiah to the bottom of the torrent where the imprints of his feet, knees, and hands were left on a very hard stone. and head" From both sites the depressions twinned the facts of geological upheavals that would cause the implosion generating noises and silences of greater size when ignoring it, by the time it began to decrease in frequency and volume heightening that would fracture with the decibel in the middle ear with total disorientation. In the Well of *** Bei Hinnom, Mites would begin to ascend Amblyseiuss wirskiique; that they are a species present in regions of Israel for that bad effect. This predatory mite was found in large colonies suspended in numerous grasslands, among them they were hidden and neighbors to the horticultural crops of Los Olivos. These crop larvae are assiduous to migrant citrus trees that spawned Cypriot whitefly larvae that came to mourn the mourning of infants under seven who were incinerated. Predating young larvae of other species by means of severed white mosquitoes. They began to radiate horror at the cries of the burning children of the time with the martyrdom that pierced the bark of the bushes entangled by this unusual phenomenon between the valleys. This colony of mites frightened the apostle and Vernarth by making them believe that fever of degenerative abundance was symptomatic in them in the flagellated human species, with whips in their tentacles degrading in tiny status between food chains, for more predation towards them and their companions that they were in the camp resting next to the warmth in the atmosphere of the unknown. Vernarth ran swiftly to open some gates that contained the doomed river, levered some stones to increase the mechanical noise on the growing colony of mites in such a way as to lessen the dominant action on the arboreal and horticultural species,

Hex Birthright

The composition of this Hexagonal primogeniture is changing by itself visiting you in this hexagonal course that is now oblong by the rays of the determined morning, inviting you to take the dry cove to Bethlehem in the company of The Apostle, Vernarth, Etréstles, Raeder and Petrobus, Eurydice and Alikantus. They get on the Giant Camels and meditate on them, it was not yet dawn, there were six camels for this hexagonal brotherhood, and the remaining six were for supplies and clothing for their retinues. They all stand in an oblique line looking towards the Valley of Hinnom and Cedrón..., waiting four minutes before the Sun appears. In each one, a legaña of balsamic acetol would begin to skim off with the generous Sun reigning on their Davidian faces. At that very moment, the King appears to them from the front, strolling through the long Davidian caravan..., in their very faces, thus stopping in their march and seeing their imploring and bronze hair like an alliance of lights on a cold morning. Davidian Presence: "There are four minutes left for us to appear in the morning twilight, it has been four hundred years since I ruled Davidian as the second of Israel, I was born in Bethlehem where I will go with you until I reach this pure oasis of the House of Bread. center of the Old Testament, I was the Eighth and last son of Jesse or Jesse, a member of one of the main families of the tribe of Judah, the prophet Samuel secretly anointed me sovereign of the Hebrews when I was just a boy taking care of his father's flocks in Belen. I have created a united and powerful nation of a markedly theocratic character, though short-lived as it vanished shortly after the death of my son Solomon; while in the religious sphere my poetic compositions stood out, "recognizing myself as the author of a total of 73 psalms", and the great project that I ordered to build a great temple in Jerusalem to house the Ark of the Covenant building that would have ***** my successor on the throne." David, get on the seventh Giga camel, and they all go in a file when four minutes fell on the sand of Northeast Jerusalem turned into burning flames in the hair of Davidian dawn. All catch their shadows with a vocalized assembly by the turquoise stripes of the Tekhelet that he carried on his Davidian skeleton. From the minimum moment that allowed him to climb his bones until he mounted the Camel on its exterior, his past became lightening of volatile blue flesh, leaving for the first sabbatical day that ran through his calendar. He tempered over him the compromising memory of him that wandered before his birth and after his death where many wanted to incinerate his Tekhelet for him, or perhaps plagiarize him in his agony with the Messiah when he met with the apostles. above his grave. Davidian Tomb: "When the Lord was over me, I felt his aroma of Davidian flowers approaching, covering my coffin with two square meters of the perimeter of my death that began to be purged in the Messiah. My body was ingested like horchata in my blood vessels. Many times I wanted to get up and break down the barriers that separated us, but I was distracted by the serpent that seized in front of me, co-indexing the apples of my tree that never got worms..., turned into brass serpents on slung chariots pulling me away from the arms of the Messiah. I saw myself at his service in nine light-years from the twelfth applicant with billions of kilometers more, that is, a quarter of light-years to reach him, estimated. My four minutes are what I aspire to reach the five that remained of my temporal origin..., to restore the last thousandths of the end of my life to honor him ubiquitously, even looking at me from the universe from where he observes me, listens to me and will speak to me Davidian..." turned into brass serpents on falcate chariots leading me away from the arms of the Messiah. I saw myself at his service in nine light-years from the twelfth applicant with billions of kilometers more, that is to say, a quarter of light-years to catch up with him. My four minutes are what I aspire to reach the five that remained of my temporal origin..., to restore the last thousandths of the end of my life to honor him ubiquitously, even looking at me from the universe from where he observes me, listens to me and will speak to me Davidian..." turned into brass serpents on falcate chariots leading me away from the arms of the Messiah. I saw myself at his service in nine light-years from the twelfth applicant with billions of kilometers more, that is to say, a quarter of light-years to catch up with him. My four minutes are what I aspire to reach the five that remained of my temporal origin..., to restore the last thousandths of the end of my life to honor him ubiquitously, even looking at me from the universe from where he observes me, listens to me and will speak to me, Davidian..."The Davidian Phenomenon continued to impact everyone because this happened to the ungulates when they sensed outbreaks of the cluelessness of the sky, believing they were a part of it, but the bodies of space are so far away, just as their whimsical light would take a long time to reach us, wondering about the universe of another ravenous dilapidated galaxy. The more distant the object of our consecration is, the longer it will take for the light to arrive and therefore what we see is even further away than in the past. Perhaps his lineage was a thousand years before it could materialize after 1040 years..., after David he did not seem bothered by the refractory passing of the degraded millennia. This equation was worth using to ask the Messiah for mercy for not having made his nation the best it could have treated and inherited towards him in sync at the time he was sentenced. In such a way to subtract years from the one who was born and ruled, so they would be subtracted from him as it is due to his soul that comes traveling with the invisible speed in the bluish light of the Menorah. Light Davidian: "it was 1040 a. C. that I saw the birth of light approaching the same one that saw us born in Bethlehem in the same village of the Messiah after 1040 years in which it separated us both and saw us born in different age phases..., he arrived at his stable next to his Davidian mother. Messianic I fell abruptly from the burst of beams of extinguished light years similar to those that accompany me today in the ceramic that also appears in Bethlehem.In this way I will follow your exalted Hexagonal primogeniture together with the Davidian spectrum, accompanying him to the people who gave birth to both of them."Sheba Dean, Vernarth states: "The Hexagon turned us around and we looked at the Zoroastrian sky, a new star guided the seven of us mounted on golden backs on camelids, now King David on the seventh Giga Camel". Saint John the Apostle intervenes: "In my symbology of the Apocalyptic as an ancient Davidian I give the testament of liturgy and that which appeared in the first centuries of Christianity in which its praises, prayers, petitions, characters, cults, ornaments, incense, Eucharist, chalices arise. , the saint, the amen, the lamb of God, the ******, the interception of the angels, the archangel Michael, the antiphons, the priesthood, the faithful, the meditative silence, the nuptial supper of the lamb; so are the numbers. At the same time, a symbology of the numbers is brought, giving them meanings; this is why for this author the "one" refers to God; the "three" can represent God although for the Jews it represents the divinity, and for the Christians the trinity (father-son and holy spirit). In the apocalypse the three appears as a fraction instead of the whole number a third part, a third; which indicates that neither is a full God nor the "fourth" that is the creation, and that two-thirds are not affected by what the third part is; the half and three and a half taken are from the book of Daniel and mean fullness as well as the "four" and the "seven" perfection, as well as the universe or creation of the representation of the four cardinal points, the four evangelists, the four living beings with God. In the apocalypse "the 5th and 6th" originate cataclysm and the "sixth" a vision of hope, the "seventh" the trumpets. The "six" denotes imperfection but one is missing to reach seven which is perfection; this last number in Hebrew is called "Sheba"; "twelve refers to the 12 tribes of Israel" (Jacob) (16), to the 12 apostles. If we make a calculation of the twelve tribes of Israel we also have to make it of the 12 sons of Ishmael that we can also consider them as twelve tribes. Which is equivalent to two pairs of 12 or 24; this last number multiplied by 2 is equal to 48 and 12 times 12 equals 144. Here we can continue calculating the multiples of 10 and 4 and thus group figures to give them interpretations. The number 1,000 would be the general idea of ​​a great number, the 1,000 years of the confinement of the dragon. Observe the negative aspect of some numbers that do not appear in the texts on "numerology" "King David, goes on the seventh Giga Camel, that there are five that are missing from the camels of the twelve (he being on the seventh) to get to mount the last one before they reach Bethlehem. "the 5th and the 6th" would originate a cataclysm but also glimmers of hope when they hit the sixth, and this could happen in multiple ups and downs in the lands of the birthright that saw both Jesus and King David born. The raison d'être of this Davidian way is Davidian Way He says: "Being on Mount Zion below the subsoil I imbued my proportion to my cenotaph asking to be my rest here or another. In the Old Testament, it says that I was buried with my ancestors in the City of David. Archaeological ramblings and excavations place my City south of the Temple Mount and not on Mount Zion where my current tomb is located. My city was the original settlement that became Jerusalem, they have searched for me in excavations of the City of Davidiana but they have not discovered my Tomb. Some have thought that I was buried in Bethlehem..., my city is also known as the Davidian Way,... but they look for me in excavations in Bethlehem and they do not exhume me from my grave. On Mount "Sion is my spirit" that looks for the Messiah still by some stairway that indicates looking at us both as humans..., both as kings but He is my true King. Here the pious and spiritual boat of Bethsaida had to pass as a consort in the Miracle of Pentecost that took place in the same place where the Last Supper was celebrated, the washing of the feet of the Disciples, the Meeting of the Disciples after the Ascension of our Jesus, Apparitions of the Risen Jesus and the Election of St. Matthias as an apostle, which was located in a high room on Mount Zion. He could be found in many places, but where I have wanted to prevail his well-deserved and welcoming place shared with me is in the Cenacle near me in my Tomb where he celebrated his first Eucharist. And now especially that I am on the seventh Giga camel hoping to reach the five that are missing to achieve the twelve that are missing beyond the cataclysm of the five that remain to get the twelve. That by equivalence it should have a correlation with my numeral year of my birthright 1040 BC and by a factor of multiplicity that if we make a calculation of the twelve tribes of Israel we also have to do it of the 12 sons of Ishmael that we can also consider them as twelve tribes. Which is equivalent to two pairs of 12 or 24; this last number multiplied by 2 is equal to 48 and 12 times 12 equals 144 as an arcane and secret measure of the edification of creation. Here we can continue projecting my work as a geometer calculating the multiples of 10 and 4 and thus group figures to give them interpretations of the size and measure that unites me and separates me from the Messiah."

Filled with a great piece from the cruise through the sands and the Judean desert, They were almost asleep in the hemispheres of each region that waited and recirculated with the energies of the desert. With its shifting landscapes, constant limestone hills between canyons of deep Philistine souls, with rivers and oases like Nahal David. They marked the passage of the camelids and the hydric solitude that dominated their fictitious vegetation. King David as the seventh horseman went far from those who opened fences at the tip of the anvil of the caravan. He felt moved to release the clothes from the cenotaph... from him, perhaps entering the Eucharistic pavilion that resembled his open mouth; He as a Young King was proclaimed, and he remembered when he was active in reacting to retaliation to scare off the Philistines, with his namesake Saul. They used to raid herds and fertile agricultural land, for which David begged the Lord what he should do in the land of Adullam? the Lord spoke to him and told him: "Let him rise up and destroy them", he did so and rushed over them thus beginning his reign of liberation from these barbarians. As they made their way to Bethlehem, the King felt that something was missing to fuel the atmosphere of his return to his homeland. Since then from the sky descended a flock of migratory birds that joined him when he fed the abdomen of the desert attracting six hundred Hula Cranes. King David whistled copiously which attracted lake birds creating an atmosphere of trance. Here time stopped and it rained softly sweet water with messages of love and everlasting avian hubbub. He recalled six hundred Cranes like the ones that sheltered them when the Philistine troops escaped, taking refuge in the cave of Adulam. Everything seemed scarce biometrics of the arid event in an arid destination. All embedded in the vegetation of xerophytic thickets and exegetical brambles that lit up with calypso color at each shoot of the past millennium in its early biblical time, when they approached the vicinity of the valley near Bethlehem near Beit Jala, erosive processes were imposed with meta desert factors of vile landscapes. Aeolian Eolionimia tramontane winds were falling on his Tekhelet, letting himself fall from the relevant heights with cranes with gravitating mud on their ends, with gravel from colonized riverbanks of the rocky Hamada desert areas, three fossil birds were climbing the rays that reflected the crown of two Kings to meet at Bethlehem. Arriving at the sacred native city and beginning in Christmas choirs and passion for the faint whistle on the twelve Giga camels, they venerated the hemispheres of energy prayer that insufflate from the eternal walk of the guide of their breathing wounding them as migratory birds of a series of fraternal cranes that invited him to be confused with the whistle of the divine Solano solar wind that calmed and stimulated the enormous breezes to warn the villagers of his enormous arrival together with the Apostle Saint John, converted into dusty fissures in quarries of the surroundings, where they stopped their work and deposited another rebuild in another temple with a greater whistle than a Sheba Dean.Shavuot Messiah; Shavuot is the second of the three pilgrimage festivals of Judaism (the others are Passover, Passover, and Sukkot..., which is walking in the desert after leaving Egypt). The Hexagonal Primogen took seven weeks through the desert and the Holy Land to reach the target that is Bethlehem. It would coincide with Shavuot; with bucolic meaning corresponding to the time of the year in which in Israel in particular the first fruits are collected. This is why the holiday is also called the Feast of First Fruits. During the festival, it is customary to eat dairy products, accompanied by the seven characteristic species of Israel, based on yogurt, honey, fruits, vegetables, and spices. In the existence of seven in their camelids is the vibration of their fruits and spiritual messages. The Shepherd and His Flock According to tradition, the area located to the east of the city, belongs to the fields of the shepherds, "they only keep watch in the dark for the shepherds who are in the field." Several churches have been built to commemorate this event. Even today local shepherds can be seen tending their flocks in the same area (even on Christmas Eve). The relevance of this land of herds is the conclave of this brotherhood, Saint John the Apostle, King David, Vernarth, and the retinue of animals plus Eurydice. They are beings of light that come to pick up spikes and sheaves, the seeds of the gramineous environment that surrounds historical vibrations of dissolution of resurgent energies from all corners. Despite being a thousand-year-old Canaanite city, this city now has the visit of this conclave that is going to loosen the chains that had been folded in its geomorphic genesis. Here the memory of the seeds and spikes are impregnated with the "Lady of Light" made and made of the divine seed that feeds generational infants, whose silence generously retransmits all those who will give birth to pain and all those who memorize your gesture. Mother, Parents, and children will go through the past of a farm that only admits one seed "Gleaning his Divine example". Flooding and spreading beyond all limited expansive creation of the Marian World. Before approaching the confines of the village, Archangel Uriel becomes aware saying: "Gramineous Consort..., herbaceous Shavuot divider Spike between races, lineage and family, typology, lineage and hyper gender... Here lies your superfamily thickening ancestral in daily sheep...energetic molecular matter..., golden passers-by flowers of Sutra thorns, glucose polymer molecule, herbal and decreed perennial network...vascular bio Mariah..., graminaceous chopped stems..., crowns to the precept! striated Angiosperma, the tabernacle, prevented weeks of your veil and hoarse ritual...Bethlehem..., on veiled feet, golden tornado wind....extreme advance..., carrying flowers to your Messiah, re-blooming womb, scales and pitch collapsed on your candle..., varnish between milky honey... traditional ancestral embryo... full holistic, skillful milk and aloe-myelin and consummate Messiah..., pheromone teaching nativity..., rescinded to Nacer. Here is your Shavuot Hexagonal Architectural Primogeniture where nothing is born and nothing dies, mutualism roar great prayer of subspecies... high-sounding and metabolizing Big Bang..., intra-species, specimen Guru-intuitions, Sheets in beads..., between Ruth's fingers and her uninhabited herds, Druid plant ficus..., sagebrush, plain rock, and rainy past weaving, Here below you I double its wool in July... Sheaves of wool that undress, Brave Period and histo-weaving tillage..., fateful hunger and cotyledon... Bread on tiles of your altar; germ to satiate..., awning to heirs to plunder...A quarter of your barley toast..., will prostrate itself fascinated supposedly in a rooted basket, Junco discerning in thunder, pseudo-diaphragms reflowered millennia, perfect Sheba of Seven knotty and amplified trumpets between the eye of the Universe... thousand-year-old Reed roots on the back of my hanging donkey distilling in the confines, affirming themselves still and tremulous of ogre sheaves..., restless Davidian affirming themselves in secondary roots..., in bifurcated grass lights,... in empty Davidian center, through the Davidian center big bang space of Bethlehem, Messiah..., ear of the Lady of Light...! between prayers of forty and more to the right..., multi germinating." ... in the empty Davidian center, through the big bang space Davidian center of Bethlehem, Messiah..., a spike of the Lady of Light...! between prayers of forty and more to the right..., multi germinating." ... in the empty Davidian center, through the big bang space Davidian center of Bethlehem, Messiah..., the spike of the Lady of Light...! between prayers of forty and more to the right..., multi germinating."

Saint John the Apostle is frozen by this senso-oratory, lengthened his phonetics, his words, and accents, making himself almost unintelligible as he tried to record himself and imitate what the archangel recited. The slopes that formed a beautiful valley moved to the opposite ones. The verses transmuted clarified energies, caloric and meteorological, the wells of the oasis sites that dwelt for millennia lit up like rubies in a Pingala aphorism, resurfacing in borders that adorned the presence of visitors. With energy channels and energy wheels, they traveled like turbines to the left brain of Bethlehem where north and south intersected vertically, pouring out the Prana that threatens the storm of the intellect, which sleeps what awakens in the port angle of North and South. Thus Bethlehem received visitors who entered with their ungulates, faking being nomadic mountains on camels that prowl in random sedentary circles. Shofar and Asherah, already set, begin to direct their destiny to the heart of the Nativity area where their origins and areas of the omnipresent West Bank strip were. They entered with strong winds clinging to their bristling camelids, everything had the atmosphere of a city as if it had never been inhabited. The fringes in floods of the sun were distinguished orange-reddish weakened before storm gradients from the Red Sea and the Mediterranean placating the Hexagonal primogeniture. Although squalls were appreciated with agile movements in the local atmosphere, several layers crossed with the inheritance of Persian cloths in colorful blues and orange tints coming from the red sea and the quarrelsome storms of Asherah "The mother of all the gods", and He who was the "father of the gods". Known among the Babylonians as Ishtar originally called Athirat (or Afdirad). She is the great Semitic goddess of fertility. In the Bible it receives the name of Ashtoreth, a distorted pronunciation of the original 'Astart by including the vowels of the Hebrew word boset (shame) according to the custom of the rabbis, to discredit the pagan divinities. Asherah from the Bronze Age (before 1200 BC) The Greek form is Astarte. Astarte was considered the "goddess of the Sidonians". In the Amarna Letters, she is Ashirtu and Ashratu. The Ras Shamra texts identify Asherah ('atrt = atirat) with El's goddess wife; they call her "Lady Asherah of the Sea" and "progenitor of the goddesses", here she would be the mother of these discredited Babylonian forms caused discomfort and discomfort in the face of a living past and present in the intangibility of inheritances that greet others that could supplant them. This caused heating of the ground in the podiums or legs of the animals with an abnormality of the Greek-Babylonian wormwood prostrated at the feet of Asherah, leaving an odorous atmosphere of wormwood in the land of two native Kings of this jurisdiction, attracting dissipation on the roofs of some surrounding houses to the precise place where the Messiah saw the light of lights and those who waited for him together lighting him with candlesticks. This sacred wind caressed everyone's hands and insinuated them to take charge of the new Bethlehem, a vicissitude that was being reborn with the illustrious visit of the Apostle. His consolations were dilated as any caravan that increased its predictive volume equalizing the pressures of the air that surrounded the streets where no one appeared and was seen generically. This centrifugal force rotated their terrestrial spirits, originating the birth of a great thickness of crazy gases that populated the roofs of the village. Thus creating greater weight and highlighting the freshness of essences that were torn from the soil with the aroma of grazing, explaining to themselves the presence of sub-areas in the West Bank and insolating redemption of the arrival towards formal merit contrasted by the gesture of being staying next to this at night, and varying many times until bringing them the holy sacrosanct condensed water, deregulating the thermal sensation.The density and buoyancy of the animals' legs made it difficult for them to select the right moment to stop and dismount. The aerial relief that went up and down went up on the walls of a few rooms linked to the nativity stable, pressing on them the adjacent words that were allied from the ground to soon arrive in an ascending spiral converted into light and wind on the seventh horseman; King David, appearing to them right there..., right there before Him his Abigail, the third wife who gave him an advanced reconception by presenting him with an altar that will endow eucharistic missions during his admission to Bethlehem. On the gradient that led to the hill of the stable, an unexpected phenomenon swirls around them, affecting their vision and consequences, rotating them all to the rear of the original access to the stable. Converging winds on the ground and upper external part of the stable and causing an anticipated shine of the space that would prolong them to under-understand that they had already arrived but were still seven hundred meters from the main access and that the city was not Bethlehem, but another that seemed to emerge from the arid soil next to the stable, dividing into inter-strips that rubbed against the original and current ones, in such a way as to generate a great development of the subsoil on the vertical that sounded stentorian and vibrating as if in a long stay on the distributed assistants in this supra abnormal regime. They arrive exempt from grievances but dismounting gentiles..., the sixth piece of crowns of Kafersesuh bringing the fertilizations of the Ibico Ring 6, for the central stage of investiture under the shadows of Hellenika and Theoskepasti, where everything will be endowed with the greater Ibix called Wonthelimar together with Leiak. David speaks: "When I approached Moab, I asked for asylum in the protection of my parents..., so I myself would burst the eardrums of the Philistines for each rugged network of links that join me in sponsoring my counterattack advance towards their domains. In their unknown territories of the enemy appears before me a noble and friendly joy; Abigail, who fills the history of my land with beauty before the very son of a cruel Canaanite; Nabal. She enriches my lands more than the entire multiplied population of animals every time I count the units, I look into her eyes and forget the greater amount that moves her heart towards me because of that I did not spill blood on the house of Nabal. Being Abigail is the one that replaces my union with the Faith that moves my passion. Abigail then kneels and touches the ground where he was making the sign of the cross after assigning a cross kissing his hands, on his forehead and chest. Thus, from somewhere her parents reorganized the garments to ravish Vernarth for the bi-connected purging of him with that of David and the Messiah-Vernarth. As in the Jericho tale, Alikanto, Raeder, and Petrobus galloped around the periphery of the citadel, with the full force of the steed's Golden hooves kicking up liquid and dust from the Bethlehem water tables. Alikantus did not carry an amount on his back..., he carried an Áspis koilé of the Vernarth Hoplite. resume their advances in buttresses to build the walls, that they had to mediate to weaken Asherah's overtures to disagree with the citadel borders. The Apostle, Etrestles, and Vernarth blew the shofars as many times as they gloated the perimeter of the city, and they believed that there would be more rounds..., on the divan was the Shofar that could sound more times and louder, it was intact..., but it ran to blowing it Vernarth not leaving a single drop of air looking at the sky that would appear with three bright stars filling the anxiety and attachment to break the Easter bread for everyone. But it was not that effect it was the astral echo of King David's Betelgeuse that emanated with his breath also helping to raise the walls that would protect him from staunch invasions of the lackeys of Asherah. In such a way that the partitions were raised until reaching the governorships of the words of the watchman angel who coordinated everyone saying: Watchman Angel: "For us the partitions, for you the roofs, on the heights the limits will mediate and on their Shofar they will define to Asherah, without any city where to go and come" Such exordium is fulfilled and Bethlehem is surrounded by golden barreled partitions rising in remarkable walls and heights to placate the roaring winds of the Canaanites as in Jericho but the other way around, where they succumbed to the mandate divine to allow them to settle in the thousand-year-old town hall. Finally, they remove the twelve camelids from the ante circle that did not allow them to settle in the settlement, managing to settle down to revive a bi-natality and double reign of whose splendor only the luminances of the Messiah and King David embracing them will speak. From the extramural continents they remain desolate, they revive the pristine and angelic countenance of Abigail bringing dinner and a fetish Shofar to each one of the components of the Hexagonal Birthright that began to continue the seven weeks in Judah. The legacies of Magraner"Punica granatum" were bushes that appeared to them in the focus of the micro center of the fire, entering with some tenuous and sinuous branched thorns getting muddy coming down from the tassels of the Shofar feeding the curiosity of all those who were encamped surrounding a fire full of sounds with new positions of devout pupil sounds of high Jewish principalities, cordoning off objects of the Apostle Saint John who shared it with Etréstles..., giving sonorous instrumentalizations to rams that came around them... looking for ravens that jumped on their heads. Due to the binding and cracking of the shofars, in the opposite works of luminosity, the bonfires hung over the same faces of the wise counselors who unfolded them with their young shiny branches and sheaths before others underexposed yellowish-greenish with obtuse apexes. Resigning shallow marginalized exceptions, polygons of pre-flowering and shofar-formed on valves that escaped from ashes of shutters that were detached from the last fleeting flame of each minute running to the right. Everyone collected the nectars that the legates poured into chalices, drinking them lying down to swallow them while reclining and being able to look at the stars that emerged from albiceleste flavors, rinsing the arms of each one by touching them with the shofar like petioles stems on the seven ruminants that sought to recover what they had they made heavenly sounds about themselves.  Etrestles says: rinsing the arms of each one by blowing them with the shofar as petioles stem on the seven ruminants that sought to recover what they made a sound about themselves celestial. Etrestles says: "When the shofar speaks, past pastorals speak inside and outside the community, the most outlined has been to understand it as a trumpet of bony projection; that is to say, formed by a bony and pointed matter that is born from the frontal bone sealed by a layer of keratin that forms an aerophone horn cover. The horns of Moses come from a translation of the original biblical text perpetrated by Saint Jerome. When Moses descends from Mount Sinai, where he met with God, "the skin of his face had become radiant" says the Bible (Ex 34, 29-30). In the original Hebrew the verb "to radiate", and "to emit rays" is from the same root as the noun "horns" so Saint Jerome did not think twice and translated: "cornuta esset facies sua", or that is, "his face was cuckolded".Taking into account its timbre and sound quality here with you, it is not difficult to associate it with the sound and with the golden patina simulating Messolonghi's fingers..., which three by three-piston their bone reaches linking in some ways of beauty, goodness, clarity, brightness, and stories that will accompany us in this bonfire between these raised walls to level the vaults of the Messiah's nativity cries. Calibrations and catechesis on the real moment of his symbolic Lineage at dawn awake and alive, with waves of graceful voices with goat hosts reordering the urban matrix of the erected town..., everything will be at the expense of surrounding us and pouring out the voices shuffled with the shofar to protect us from Asherah in his eagerness to move us away from the fundamental site." Vernarth intervenes: "In this passage it is clear the capacity that the shofar..., and the sound produced by him with our similar voices being amalgamated with him, bawling and modifying the environment to a polyvalent physical dimension. Now we are a herald of goodness, beauty, and reconstruction, part of a noticeable dialectic to neighboring Canaanite cultures as a sudden reconversion between what was built and what is about to be founded even if something were to disappear in it. The wall was rebuilt in reality surrounding all of them beyond the golden light of the shofar producing today's creation and not devastation, encapsulating kingdoms in wisdom and lucubration..., this is where we have all come from the return of didactic cultural forms independently to attract us towards his teachings in an anonymous converted world with the purpose of reconverting itself into a solemn alert that precedes us.



Paraps XXVI

Messiah of Judah III part

Miracle IV- Baptistery

Stressed knowing that he was on a hill reserved for the beautiful settlement and elevations to the east of Bethlehem, he understood to facilitate the unusual lighting. stress; Leader of the Koumeterium Messolonghi felt that after thousands of years of his life in this Holy Land a great value of omnipresence. The Miracle of Christian protocol would begin with him paying for votes and tributes in the Church of the Shepherd's Countryside. In this rock of special mysticism, "He begins his rebirth in his tenth life before there were nine in Messolonghi (Koumeterium Messolonghi-Editorial Palibrio USA). A miracle happens that transships him to caverns that would transport him from the oldest of the past nine cycled epics in Kalavrita, Kalidona, Patmos and Messolonghi. Here he will come face to face with past lives, in The Fountain of the Shepherds,   in this analogous with allegorical motifs commemorating the shepherds and their flock by those who crown this fountain, having before our eyes the sculpture of the shepherd and under his feet floral motifs such as palm leaves, heads of cattle, sheep, and ducks in the act of drinking. In this hexagonal source it is equated with the Hexagonal Primogeniture, here is the miracle that would come to arise to reunite with the intangible Creation and Illumination as clothing. They thought they were closer to the village... but in reality, they were three and a half kilometers from the village itself, in a fenced compound with a wide path that runs through the park on the hill between trees and lush flowers that clearly evoke the place where those First-century shepherds brought their sheep to graze. We were all dozing off when certain royal decagonal sounds would transport us through the church..., on its decagonal plan, it appeared surrounded by four chapels and the apse that houses the altar, covered by a large dome of mortar and glass that lets in, illuminating the altar as it did. the guiding star that pointed the way to the shepherds. Here the murals that protected us from the hosts of Asherah had already disappeared. Most likely, they were keeping vigil over us with great chandeliers as they opened up in swamps from the sclerae of our desolder eyes. We were trapped by the quagmire created by Raeder and Petrobus in opaque clouds of sheep manure spilling through the corridors of the unknown worlds of climactic grazing. We went to its structure and over the entrance door, we saw the angel of the annunciation and above it, a singular bell tower incorporating us into the façade through three relaxed arches. Inside the beautiful fertile field from a marble church in two colors, some spaces could be emphasized, to which the columns that support the roof also contribute. The chapels are adorned with precious frescoes that represent scenes of the annunciation to the shepherds and arrival at the birth and altar table that is supported by the sculptures of four angels above all with the appearance of the hexagonal primogeniture between these angular stones. That hexagonal and polygonal effect in both parts were intra-excavated from their own vertices, They crossed a straight line from the north in a double semicircle that was concentric in the precise diameter of the equatorial inscribed in the central circular bleat that a sheep lactated..., here the shepherds arrive and receive them with great hospitality in symmetrical affability, shaking them with their shofar. over their songs and tunics..., each one was blessed by the nascent air of the other more than a steppe grazed by ruminants and palliated mouths. Twelve degrees to the right in the sixth wick of the Menorah, a regular silhouette was lit, becoming this intangible whose thirst makes them drink water from a hexagon well much more equidistant than walking between themselves, moving their hands with all the urgent emotions and dynamizing numb emotions that would vibrate from the third angle by clothing them with vertices of light that shone from the convex morning. There were six complex roots equating each other on the regulated plane of animals, which were parked near the medium stone walls where Raeder would climb to run over the walls, standing out more with each side in which the same forms of expression could be appreciated, embraced and emphasized. those who could decide to generate a rebirth of two kings and that of Etréstles by an internal lighting hex. Close to the church, colorful caves can be seen in the calcareous rock that dated back to the fateful Herodian era, denoting some surprising utensils found, of which we know their mission of the chapel when the diocese was founded.

Etréstles, receives a luminescent self-radiation immediately from caring and guiding as it has always been, but now in a tenth luminescent life in living connected to its own cisterns. An enjoy approaches him showing him his paw..., the curious thing is that this dog had six fingers, there he was convinced that it was his generous shepherd and that he would take him through internal labyrinths of his lighting by the sixth finger to help more unwary and unconscious beings that illuminate and grant subconscious existence in pumps that have lost their law in affront and self-rebellion. His sedition would begin with the substitution of grass so as not to depend, but rather to maximize them in the cavity of their stomachs, so he began to wander through the hills seeing how all his sheep fed on dry land, without any water source.

Raeder ran along with the cover of the stone walls, Petrobus turned around the perimeter of the inert time of the upper ledge, and the camelids raised their shining legs filling the herbaceous pastes in their timbal snouts, Alikanto sensed that only three kilometers away he was already presenting himself. the stable where they could surrender to the intubating silence and the innocence of a super little one who came and appeared..., knowing everything. All animals eliminated pastoral toxins and pheromones being free from enterotoxemia, distributed from the soil and the gastrointestinal tract of the youngest, not appearing in the holy ovine soil with the bactericidal absence of Hexagonal Primognitura. the pheromones in this chapel it was assimilating between special olfactory glands that would reign. They would fan the wings and its bursting abdomen, rubbing it on the roof of the prominent chapel like a domestic beehive. They would exchange the oral use of the inaugural soil to receive them in the animal creation controlling the cells of the chapel and segregating the maintenance of the backward world. The mandibular pheromones could be seen falling to the slab of the church, becoming sticky as they progressed to and from everyone's entrance. The pheromones of the sheep created recruitments of the others in the integument of each cognitive inflection plotting them to enter the baptistery, something like that would never have been possible, this was a great miracle in the rebirth of Etréstles when they could enter their own womb..., they lay down on Etréstles passing over his abdomen generating honey from his own mouth, giving the pheromone of the sheep when transiting and of the bees that provided him in his abdominal cell. Chemo Neurons and receptors renewed would be in charge of expanding circulating olfactory lines, causing an electro transmission of energy never seen before. Everything happens as a result of the metamorphosis of Etrésltes and his hairy clothing often lives on the backs of neurochemicals filling him through the largest lobe of the winch, which he had and carried in his hands and which he had requisitioned from the nearby mill of the ancient Christians who lived there. The apostle says: "Each verse..., a molecule, each surface a new system..., each membrane..., the rebellion of stimuli..., energy chain, sensitive organism..., neural axon, physiology, six hexagonal angles Pastors and Primogeniture creating together with a new genetics of harmonious existence that does not tire the sight of the Creator, seeing how everyone has fun in the garden of their house" The baptistery has a hexagonal base, which coincides with the primogeniture, since it is based on six anthropoid-zoomorphic elements, missioning after the vestige of memories of the Messiah, whose doctrinal base will predominate the exiled Apostle who miraculously returns to be close in the church of the shepherds with six angles that concentrate their escort, towards a single center of the tabernacle that will be reborn in the figure of Etréstles de Kalavrita. Vertnarth says: "Blessed light of luminescent glories that you have made of today that nothing ends in nothing..., everything begins..., this plan transfigures the purge that takes longer than the light that does not turn on from the darkness surrendered before its vassals. Now king tomorrow vassal, now sun tomorrow darkness. Nothing produces pain only temporary blindness, what hurts the most is exposing your face to death and your mind, In Ein Karem, two ears in spring besieged Etréstles falling asleep on the cross that was in the bell tower, could not wake up the next day among molded bronzes. He had had excruciating nightmares that prevented him from waking up. This is how he describes the dream: "I was heading towards some heights of Ein Karem when I was going near some hills near said city, some Roman Praetorian soldiers appeared to me and arrested me. Suddenly I woke up after having recovered from the severe beating they gave me, they interrogated me again, and they put half of my naked body in the middle of the body of an underground cistern, trapping me towards it by the enormous ice that was distributed in my body. They told me that they only wanted to test my resistance to water in this cistern to test my Hellenic Constitution by resisting darkness and high low temperatures as a Hellenic foreigner in Hebrew lands. Well, I was always very intrigued by everything but there came a moment when a luminescent light settled on my head in Ein Karem..., it was Isabel, the mother of John the Baptist telling me that there was a path where I could escape. At the moment that the guard came towards me, she surprises him with a viper that stings his hand..., quickly escaping the guard. Surprised I ventured to escape but when I was far from the cistern I returned to thank Isabel, I found myself face to face with the viper that was nested in the rags left by Santa Isabel..., Likewise, in the textile fringes, the viper uncoiled biting me in my right hand. So I had to leave quickly and go find Kanti who was waiting for me in a suspicious meadow. Precisely he took me to the edge of a bush where he pulled me close and with his snout he licked all the poison out of me. So he woke me up in the bell tower of the baptistery in the spring with the ears of a steed." Continuous parapsychological regression: I had been left alone in the hexagonal radier, full of brambles dressed in tides that fell from the bell tower on my wound. They had all left because they couldn't find me. Immediately Kanti took me by the hand and put me on his back, to go to Ein Karem; the Land of the threshold of John the Baptist. We headed to an important Christian site which was the birthplace of John the Baptist. Everywhere grace abounds on every fence, wall, and path, we rode through the alleys for hours until my wound healed enjoying my prayers while riding on my beloved Kanti. I felt that the left ear of my sorrel when walking without a shadow, showed me the essence of a prepubescent who had been born in this village, where his mother, Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, became pregnant and gave birth miraculously. Here, before this same lure, the restless right ear of my beloved Kanti told me that there was another child who was in his mother's womb; Mariah who was also pregnant with Jesus, and for this reason the village well is now called Mariah's Well and its waters are considered canonized. Kanti's parable: "By moving my ears forward I see our comrades around here near and behind, and in yourself, I love healing your wound. Now I will continue with my ears ***** and flattened back, making myself invisible to the Praetorians who want to target you with their leprous tongues." So I will continue with my advanced antennas forward and well dilated to hear the good steps of our comrades. Likewise, Alikanto kept his gaze on some pomegranate trees that stood out on the stone wall at the bottom of Ein Karem, while the chestnut advanced, he mobilized the base of his ears. When he felt allergy in his forehead and in the arched anatomy like super Kanti. In the domestication of him and in the use that Etréstles gave him after long days of the war, his steed had a tendency to suffer stretch marks at the supra muscular-osseous level. Showy macule like this, but not in his anatomy of immortal Equus as an external anatomical and physiological steed. Here the membranes of his cardiovascular apparatus are opened, separating him from divided Cretan and quadruple blue blood, turning in his Lazikos dance with hyper-oxygenated airs locked in the Ganymede sprouts when he was kidnapped from Mount Ida. In his exile he took care of sheep..., Zeus looked at him out of the corner of his eye and his own bled..., Zeus fell in love with him on the spot and sent him the eagle, "Which Kanti has interpreted here as the blow of Saint John the Evangelist missioning his telepathic vibrations through the corridor of the monastic cell on Patmos. Knowing that this steed and namesakes are of origin from super ventilated atmospheres and foggy areas of the northern coast of Crete. Calling himself that, about stunned himself..., about the serpents that snake sparkling from religious Hellenic mythology, between Chthonic gods or spirits of the underworld, opposing the celestial deities. The timpani telluric tremors of the hexagonal tectonics would merge with those of the chapel of the shepherds and that of their percentage share in Etréstles, of a sixth portion of the sixfold Hexagonal primogeniture. The steed's morphology resembled that of Ein Karem in super-ordered hoofed limbs like those of a mammalian placental, walking in the cracks of the quivering fingerprints of its odd footsteps. Etréstles says: "His head is the same as mine..., neck and trunk, the sigil on his pyramidal neck in which he could read the Torah. The technical nasal orifices of it are beautiful straps surrounding the headgear, touching his weariness beyond the vigor of finding him in a place of sherbet of the cisterns after having dealt with the leather that pulls his pair of smooth ears, over the blind spots maneuvering in the cove of his beautiful Cretan poetry being like that too when blue smoke smoked from Hestia's orphaned chimney. Fine trapezoid grace where her neck nails the circumlocution of her knee and the gauntlet of her inseminations and straight mane regenerating and blocking the rays of Zeus in the concave cups of Ganymede spraying them on her beard and mouth the liquor of sober trickery. I continue in the balance of so many battles won, with my Xiphos and Áspis Koilé,... beyond fearful purges that allow us to find ourselves around the corner in front of Vernarth, waiting for us to shelter Kanti's ears in Ein Karem. " They left Ein Karem after having had the vision of the Mount of Temptations even being far from the place. Grouped together again and looking at each other, she saw that his face was rejuvenated, putting his Herodian gestures in the company of King Davidian.The Messiah was born, a King without a castle or subject knowing that children under one year old are attacked by plagues or sacrifices. Messiah King of the dying world compresses for what bleeds the divine blood from him. A trifle of Messiah in each one speaking with their eyes after looking at several roofs without their own roofs, all serene,... without blemish in the middle of their faces in the violet iridescence, sounds and choral masteries that emerged from the surface in flocks of white from the Azores islands, they rained multiplying on their wings before arriving at the mass of the annunciation near the stable. Vernarth arrives and sees people gathered with their heads together and holding hands, others holding the bells of animals to hear the sweet voice of the little boy rippling like cotton in the harvest from the braying of a colt that dozed in the shade of its parents before eating. Vernarth puts down his sword Xiphos and genuflects and crosses himself with the hand that allowed him to move his fingers against his right Lynothorax wounded in battle. He makes a metallic cross sign by crossing his swords with water flooding the sidewalks of ultimate dazzled ideologies. One day he wandered away from the alleys of Emmaus where he had visions of Praetorians discovering idolatrous moods and scents of a newly arrived child from the white clouds of an approaching stable. Vernarth puts down his sword Xiphos and genuflects and crosses himself with the hand that allowed him to move his fingers against his right Lynothorax wounded in battle. He makes a metallic cross sign by crossing his swords with water flooding the sidewalks of ultimate dazzled ideologies. One day he wandered away from the alleys of Emmaus where he had visions of Praetorians discovering idolatrous moods and scents of a newly arrived child from the white clouds of an approaching stable. Vernarth puts down his sword Xiphos and genuflects and crosses himself with the hand that allowed him to move his fingers against his right Lynothorax wounded in battle. He makes a metallic cross sign by crossing his swords with water flooding the sidewalks of ultimate dazzled ideologies. One day he wandered away from the alleys of Emmaus where he had visions of Praetorians discovering idolatrous moods and scents of a newly arrived child from the white clouds of an approaching stable.Intrepid and with light-years, he came crawling in his arms with his crown traveling from the smallest space that relieves the world in a Templar, first-time and omega period, with the appearance of being born by all. Perfect and newly born with frequency blue body, blood, and eyes. Covered with gummy gelatinous substances..., anti-Herodian; seeming to save others with their small hands of the divine womb, which manage to enter the heart of God, even having fingers that do not reach the edges of God. It never seems strange to him, only that his ***** seems to never come out of him. But it is spontaneous, he sparkles outside the womb of his holy mother with the immersed placenta in the prayers of the induced shepherd of the womb of the ****** Mariah that great arms shelter the orchards to surround all those present in birth that seemed like that of a donkey's ******, who could raise his son to be King of consecrated animals as well as few making dalliances to the right of the resident Menorah getting up early. Vernarth says: What are we to expect?...the vigil...with his shoulders hunched and his head pointed north of Jerusalem this little king bent on his pre-fetal knees, after nine candles to the right of the troubled Menorah. Even though the midwife who helped the puerperal Mariah was not premature and they distanced her from the halo parenthesis that playfully changed where to put herself, close to her saintly interior, that is, triggering the powers of phosphorescence. Self-creating a thick but light layer of psyche that would make him already independent of José and Mariah...and if they weren't! His fists since childhood had signs of a stigma when he was just unborn and not born, azure flames came out of his hands lighting up the eyes of his dazed parents. Rabbi's golden machine lactated seriously when her mother slept, she didn't allow him to see her conscious of her drawing intra-lactations of the lymph from her entrails, whose gothic light ****** the dominant Magnificat of the Vulgate. He ****** on the object to take her lactation and her left hand to space it out to all who wanted to go into meta-object lullabies. Thus, her thumb and finger are introduced into her mouth, pressing them on her startled palate at the braying of the graceful donkey. All those present took with their hands the others with their own thumbs, returning to their childhood cycles just laying down in the manger. At that moment, far from feeling the imagines walking near the fields of vision, shiny noble metals..., their candelabra eyes dazzled as if they were brothers. Here he moves his arms copiously as if wanting to fly from there, with the vigor of her winged mother, to follow her beyond a tender left-handed Golgotha ​​deception. That he kept the pendulum coming and going from one arm below the other as he turned on top of her, embracing her lush maternal hand. His early nervous system was celebrating on the back of the colt, highlighted with rags in temples that he imagines to be sacral effluvium in waters on the flat beef, the camel and Raeder and the Petrobus Pelican and other animals that were on their knees smiling with their hands glued to each other all sweet to the right of the sweet nectar of the Magnificat. All the excited animals still trembled with emotion on the demure ground of this alpha biblical moment, all imitate the trembling animals but each of the adults who were there hugged the hands of each animal and child present as a sign of giving comfort to the parents together to their children who seemed to be already an adult saying goodbye to their birth. His scaly breathing was full of anagrams of Magnificat, they used to trace analgesic sources of the dream of seeing him between golden and straw fistulas of grasses breathing next to him. The voices were felt from outside of those who could not enter of glory and breath without equal of the rancor of the world distracted in a piece of tin and hardened hearts, now resplendent from seeing so much sleep looking at them and drowsily yawning in a golden child. When they breathed her glory, they followed the patterns of the priestess Deborah, who for some normalized her feminism and strength as a mother breathing the libertarian history and matron of a nation that should have been born in a Judah stable. Mary and Joseph were distracted every second looking at him, they felt that the Messiah grew too much, worrying them about this strange unreality. They breathed more than their own son seeing him without breathing that they had to do it in the garden of the man who allowed him to do it today. As long as it took their parents to distract themselves, Saint John says: "Godson and Man, the priest made Pope..., the minors run after the elders, the bible for more apostles so that they swell and spread it, that the gospels add more pages and favorite editions. Prochorus; you who are...in some seat of Patmos prepare sacred parchments with thick corpulent ink..., which will reach your cell and seat. Studies..., something wrong...? An anointed Christ needs us to write for him because his hands are asthmatic in the words and in the inspiration that you move all the pages of the world reading them scattered and disserted,....in each well and each step was son and man, where king and mother and where each mother has to dry the cloying slime that dries up the mystery of having her white and emaciated. Let him sleep, perhaps when he wakes up he will meet a Messiah who will never stop being in his arms.

Kafersuseh. One-Dimensional Beams

More than two thousand years ago there was a mischievous infant who looked and looked curiously at the beams when he was born in Bethlehem..., especially ones that crossed! This happened in the polarity of the magnetic stable of Bethlem in a portal on adjoining hills that received him overflowing. This glorious empowered looked at the beams that wore ingenious crosses, seeing himself there being still an unborn he knew that when he was born he would already leave this unborn universe. Above the trusses that riveted the frame, he approached with his lonely gaze above the roof being able to see some beings of light organizing a Eucharist on the roof of his stable two thousand years ago that could be more than an edict that he would inaugurate the sagacity of caring for and giving newborns what many wanted to see but few knew who he really was, even having no record of him or his lineage lost in the middle of the strips of hay. Says the Messiah: "A few minutes ago, or more than two thousand years ago...? I counted the times that the Res waggled its tail, and I realized that he already had selected visions in Kafersuseh, higher than the ceiling of the beams..., in the sunroom, some outcasts also visit me, reborn and loving. It even has to be detected that someone came from far away but arrived late, I was only able to observe him know how to join him to my pariah criteria. He was tidying up the altar receiving orders from the unsupportable upward hardwood scaffolding telling him so; "That everyone is in alliances lining up for those who didn't fit in the stable." I looked at the roof of the barn seeing beyond...being able to verify that my custodians were there preparing the beams on the plugs that crossed each other to climb to greater viewpoints after rubbing the rough coatings of their flogged texture like whips from the underworld of Elpenor. That gentleman remained, and not when I lost sight of him with mine as a child-man, since only he distinguished me but not so the beings of light. The disillusioned Eucharist was being consecrated. I never rested in looking, resting in a forever, because I saw that my eyes became fringed lights in the lasting oscillation of the chants of the reveille or the tri sonar of the shofar. During this time a rising angel appeared, trying to get in and out then he belatedly decided to join the group of shepherds who were herding their sheep in the fields near Bethlehem, and he told them that he brought good news because the Messiah the savior of the world had been born. The shepherds left everything to go in search of the newborn since the angel told them that they would find me sleeping or in dormancy..., but I was not staying on the manger, since I was up in the space of three sounds of bells, almost farther than close to those who announced my advent. After three sounds of bells, three shepherds of light came down from the roof seeing in me that they recognized your minds, thus being they who blessed my journey on a day in the Middle East, even being on a roof next to the paradise that I officiated in the splendor and perfection of the world as a man-child not far from the magician outcasts, who parodied all the songs always with followers of Zoroaster and my Kafersuseh up to Gethsemane and towards my mother. The Messiah was still abstracted looking at the sky while he was busy putting his body to sleep. There is no doubt that his unfolded being made him move his first steps in original words that alluded to a game of learning to give the first in Judean usage on the stables.His disconcerted hands of his body made dance stories of those who were close to him, making only about fifty grouped there in watermarks that ran like seconds within urgent minutes without time gathered in the Jewish dawn of Eretz-Israel. Saint John the Apostle says: "God is concerned about the material world and about this creature of His that predetermines us. This is the amazing thing about the Father and the Son. Behold... I will walk in the dark, not in the light. So you will see the trait that not a lifetime will take me to know which in its similarity and who inherits the body and soul of it as in the hands of a bumblebee. I feel love over the hate of others, I see the light that could be a self-confidence to those who resound in their tired and inattentive ears, maybe that way they will see when they can see better without listening attentively to the sound of the bumblebee. I see the verses fly and how they fall one by one on my soul in order obeying the flocks early, like a herd ordering those who one after another look at each other later ordering the perfect law of the beginning in a reconciled end "In that instant, fragrances of the dense flowers in water transmitted the anxiety of those who wanted to continue listening ecstatic and fragrant, but as they got rid of their presumptions they fell into the abyss on the banks of the cliff garden of Malaki, where many of them coughed or cleared their throats luminances that attacked their feelings wrapped in judicious phlegm on their limestone tombstones. Vernarth says. "Drink with me..., I have a new concoction from the beginning to the end where the branches enter with their effect from the same branches the true light that savors mistakes and slips comes out towards you. I have scabs from many shadows, but the unfaithful passion that hates me with such intensity is ennobled when seeing me prostrate before the Messiah who does not tire of a new change when seeing how his rounded limits shine on his face, much less of adapting in square limits nor to continue being born and dying, by drawing the curtain that his selfless mother always shows him to sacrifice, immersed in Gnosticism and of all those who tried to relate it " We will not be able to ask ourselves many times who we are being in front of and every time a child is born amidst variations that make all mischief its preciousness because it is born from the locked heart dancing in the greater acceptance of the welcome cycle of being born and being reborn. Even so, never having been among them, the systems of credibility are tired of their limestone material..., they register and suggest all kinds of contemplations in a vague naivety that shines between gold, myrrh, and frankincense. All those who were present transcend to resent their consciences by believing themselves spiritual while tenderness accompanied them, but not religious but the leadership of a creation will be presented to them in this stable that we see just being born that is above yourselves being born in all that concludes in an epistle under the dominance of "As you believe and love not seeing, what we see in us not believing" Indefinite before this stable we pray over the mother on her arrival, and we will pray in his mother when he leaves..., he is physical for those who accept him as a divine man and he is vainglorious for those who do not, those who do not tire their limits do not move the fence of their three-quarters demarcated, entering the undemarcated spirit as mobile emotional , girding a father and his image beyond because it escapes in our reason and faith, if not it is beyond or closer to what is usually a voluntary desire that always remains, if it is the Messiah everything is accepted in your mistakes of returning to reprimand after erasing the test of your random Being reprimanded, what the error feeds in you is digested by your active mind. Here we are extended before the anti Faith and Distended Will, underlying a new tradition that will need to relive it and get to know it if those of us who continue to speak of ethnic faith or about the naturalness of multiple tasks of their intolerances. Little Joshua says: "My fingers disobey me from her because they are far from my mother's, when I want to bring my visions of her closer to her, I throw myself into her gaze to ask her permission. But more than anything that leads us north, it flows faster than my shadow feeding on the light of the epistle. I sing and intone wills that come from so far away but I am distracted by looking and seeing those who organize an altar not so far from it..., up here on the roof. I feel without knowing and without knowing how behind them is my Father, and next to them in line the pavilion of the multitudes that sings me of haughty brave and Lord for those who are not. I never get tired of talking about the beams! they flex with the horses of the universe, and the dimensions intersected with my passion in my tension that falls compressed and falls reluctantly at the moment of tired inertia. The prism makes me hold on to the portions of the arcades of the stable, and this is in the creaking of my doubts in the desert of Jericho. The torsion in its mechanics as a noble beam, unbearable does what my reflexive pains endure so as not to stress the beams of others. From Nazareth to Bethlehem, a great effort to sustain the tension and torsion of the mechanics of the altar in the hands of those who fall weightless without feeling the weight that their load lightens on my back. In this slender mass and geometric beamed wood, the daily calculations that my father makes when he is tired to hold the world and my trova back are deformed, and when he is with impulses beyond them..., he deforms what the torsion does on it and does on the other Merida angles. And because as his son I don't know how to interpret it unidimensionally...? whose axis and radius I never knew how to understand, making myself wisely ignorant, taking hold of their garments strongly and of the mysteries that go beyond a constant creation in a stable" The Aramic Semitic language was presented in this Eucharist, on the Kafersuseh, by Joshua, He took his father in the stable with all those who came to see him, he looked at them beyond thousands of years to come to meet the humanity that lay grazing, always addressing them in Aramaic parables. While below the kings gave him offerings from the east, above beyond the studded beams, King David was consecrating him. Behind the King was the Father Creator supervising the thousands that his son Joshua would parley with Aramaic tongues, when the thousands of futures are consecrated alive in their astral bodies to the right of the Menorah, together beyond the archangels surrounding each one. Joshua watched carefully as his Aramaic lingual farming went further from Bethhlemem, beyond Kafersuseh where the evanescent height responded to a canopy shed of the beam that leaned on the stars, populating his trapezoidal back for a provincial development in his nonverbal escape from losing his unborn language And entering Aramaic through the divine membranes that descend through his olfactory halo language. However, he was already beginning to descend from the terrace to address the base of the peasant Christians who adored him and extolled him horizontally, lavishing him with water to distribute in their hands and faces beyond his visions. Joshua looked at Joseph and felt that his Aramaic was already his, but he would leave in advance walking towards the Garden of Olives..., towards Gethsemane, to meet with a frank theo-dimensional language towards his Abba Creator, surrounding them with Lepidoptera that burst their chrysalises plaguing taxa of Aramaic micro languages ​​to take them to their Abba who would await him in further ceremonial on the flat slopes that flowed with him in a language that might one day be lost as a dead language. However, this Arabic language will go in placebo on these pollinating Lepidoptera and they will go from the sacred lands to Gethsemane from their heavenly visions to Kafersuseh. In their homogeneity as dialects, the impetus of Lepidoptera began to be reborn here, traveling in nocturnal groups, to Gethsemane on the same day that Joshua came into the world in Aramean lights. When Joshua was born his Aramaic language traveled from the highest beam above the roof of his barn, to arrive with his biological Lepidoptera lingual species to pollinate Gethsemane. To migrate from that moment his word that he kept knowing that his body would be lost before those who tire in their eyes by not being able to decipher or read. Thus, transferring pollen from the stamens to the receptive macula of flowers in the angiosperms that will populate golden olive orchards mounted on vectors of the aforementioned pollen will be flown and piloted in more olive trees by the bees that will carry strains from the Kafersuseh in Bethlehem to preserve the moral language of Joshua. Although the new labors in humanity with all this and manner will go astray as a non-preserved language, not even imaginable at the birth of the Messiah until the beginning of a Gethsemane in a united Aramic body and language, but with an invisible Aramic body in those who do not you will be able to see the migratory flight of the Lepidoptera applauding mixed with bumblebees.
Messiah of Judah
A hippodrome as smoke adjourn
those can wrap Havanas blunt
while Manila fish for sordino
they reek of harvest yet exhume Moro
then San Mateo shall not a maraschino bane
whether they've sought bastion in Italy then
once their hopes shall keep ships ahoy
and Sabatini sing San Marino here
that sandcastle star await his lover in
"The Sea Hawk" a fine costume whence sail
those Antilles with a conquistador as buttress
in this play they call Those Philippines alas meet
El Duarte in a duet with his song set aflame with
great sleeves in such kleptocracy worldwide again.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2021
eh... i felt benevolent today: i was making some beef doner kebabs with fresh yeast buns... egg + sprinkle of nigella & sesame seeds on top... an onion and parsley (sumac) salad... a hot sauce a garlic & dill and cucumber white sauce... blah blah... i was missing the red onions and parsley... so i walked for a minute to my local co-op... headphones in... so i wasn't going to say hello... to... what can be best described as a gentle soul... no... not a ******.. ******... a genuine gentle soul... a shy man... who... last time i heard: has five children... and there he is... day in... day out... standing outside the shop with the copy of the Big Issue (a charity magazine that supposedly helps the homeless)... some people buy him soft drinks... some people buy him snacks... eh... i felt benevolent today... plus i already touched his shoulder without saying hello... so i asked for £5 cashback and gave it to him... not that it made my feel any better than i was already feeling... there's that... 'god bless'...

there's that and there's this...
we live with these, "people": i don't even think they're people...
more like... itches... itchy things...
mosquitos... beside parasites...
sociopaths most certainly...
   schadenfreude gagging entries...
i can usually put a face to something...
when watching a movie i play this game
of remembering what was the last
movie i saw with the actor or actress...
i know there are monsters in society...
but i hardly thought about
these: "comedians" that can't tell a joke...
how would it stand in court:
conspiracy to inflict harm?
i still don't know how many days
i rode my bicycle without spotting that
something was wrong:
maybe yesterday... while hiding full
speed without holding the handlebars...
the front wheel started to "wobble":
i didn't think much of it...
but today i tested the front breaks...
nudge-nudge... the wheel was...
this close || to coming off...
   so i checked...
  ah... someone managed to... loosen
the bolts...
once upon a time you'd need
tools to tighten the nuts and bolts
of the wheel to the frame...
now... there's this small-handle that you turn
and turn and then lock into a desired
tightness that keeps the wheel to the frame...
what the ****?
i can't cycle to  supermarket... lock my bicycle
buy my wine and pepsi
and... what? bother myself by checking
if the bicycle is: "tight" on all the connected parts?!
i mean: it's not the first time someone tried
to take my life:
first time? the nurse in the hospital who
almost choked me to death because
i was born with a Chernobyl mark on my back...
so my heart inflated...
eh... the hernia didn't help either...
i survived that...
but my heart inflating didn't exactly give
me... a heart to love random strangers...
by now i'd take a knife in the back...
while i might turn around and grab my attacker
and hold him dear and whisper:
i love you into his ear... because as i once
said to a colt who screamed at me
outside a supermarket:
i have a death-wish...
   he gave me a fiver and asked me to buy
him some *****... he was accompanied
by a girl and a guy she was *******...
i bought him a litre of *****...
how mad he was...
he asked for 35cl... and he shouted and shouted
his uncle was going to put me straight:
i placed the litre of ***** on the ground
and told him: shout all you want:
i have a death-wish... you want a death-wish?
oddly enough he, the girl and the guy she was
******* ran away and didn't take
the freely standing bottle...
it's a bit different when you're buying
liquor for a group of colts...
you're the next best thing they have to an uncle...
who the hell walks up to a chained bicycle
and... loosens up the bolts on the front wheel...
oh... it wasn't the back wheel...
this "comedian" knew what he / she was
doing... i'd be thrown in a spectacular
fashion: forward... to the side...
what if i was travelling at high speed in between
traffic... the wheel would come off
and i'd be thrown under a car...
ha ha... fan-e... very ******* funny...
but someone else would be charged with manslaughter...
the police might find fingerprints
on the pieces of the bicycle...
******* Nimrods... ****** humour...
i'm shaking merely thinking i can't perform
telekinesis / telepathy with a desire to...
put him / her into an iron maiden...
to put his / her hand into a *** of boiling water...
cut it off and subsequently feed him / her
the poaching!
what if i were the cause of someone else's
manslaughter...
i can't just cycle to the supermarket and go about
my business... if i had a car i'd
be content with my "ceramics" being treated
with a key...
hell: key the frame of my bicycle... steal the wheel
while you're at it...
but... loosen the bolts so that i might...
my head's not big enough to entertain these thoughts...
perhaps i should have been born with
a sq. head...
for ****'s sake...    NIMORDS! INBREDS!
these aren't people...
if they were things akin to doors i'd love
to knock-knock on them:
no... personally? i just want to castrate them...
they'd be better off castrated...
the guillotine would be too good for them...
by a miracle i tightened that wheel back
to its proper repetition...
what next: he or she started to kick my mode of
transit? jealousy... i rather own a bicycle
than a car? is... that it?
half-wits... mother-*******-retards...
there's that common saying:
afraid to hurt strangers...
           now i'm charged with bile and if it's not bile
then it better be acid...
who does that? massive, *******: EPIC fail...
of seeing someone fall of a bicycle:
it's not a wheelchair... genius...
well... that's sorted: perhaps when i was younger
i might have listened to Bon Jovi love songs...
bed or roses...
now i look at everyone as suspect:
i'm not even paranoid: or will be...
   let's just pretend we're in this project: life
together... we're not...
     we're not going to be...
i don't care if the ******* Dalai Lama comes knocking...
same ****: different cover...
dieselbe scheiße: anders deckel...

if i'm going to be killed: i expect nothing less
than an assassination:
i'm not going to divulge into my death
as if it were an accident... ******* Nimrods...
tease me with death
and allocate however many chances
you get... in no quick succession that
you treated Rasputin with...
sorry if i can get a hard-on with a *******
while you're still idle-hands...
**** finger and tongue with your missus ****!

mateo: calm down: no... i will not calm down!
what if my wheel came off while
i was charging down the A12... and someone
might have been charged with manslaughter?
i'll calm down...
when i poach his or her hand
and later feed it back to them!
to hell with merely cutting it off...
i'd flay: i'd skin... i'd...
do more than my imagination right now allows...

oh i wasn't lucky: i'm just not married yet:
given death ms.,
   half a biscuit is basking in loneliness
in the sky: the constellations came...
i'm fully charged heaving a breath that
would burn a tortoise's shell...

keep imagining it:
this little ****** whether he or she...
i'd poach their hand and later
watch them eat it...
if they'd pass out:
i'd give them a shot of adrenaline mixed with
amphetamines:
just to keep them awake...
they have to be awake for coming
to the end of their... "joke":

mateo: relax... i'm relaxed... look at me...
taking  diarrhoea sort of whim
of what ought to be loath solving no. 12,479
of a su doku puzzle...

here's the original, wait... let me lookalike
to a sq.... spacing can be a *****...

0      0      0      0      0      0      0      0     ­ 0
0      0      0      0      0      0      0      0      0
0   ­   0      0      0      0      0      0      0      0
0      0   ­   0      0      0      0      0      0      0
0      0      0   ­   0      0      0      0      0      0
0      0      0      0   ­   0      0      0      0      0
0      0      0      0      0   ­   0      0      0      0
0      0      0      0      0      0   ­   0      0      0
0      0      0      0      0      0      0   ­   0      0

clearly that's proper spacing...
don't **** with me...
i'll be nice: until i start to imagine your hand
being poached and forcing you to eat it!

this is the original;

0      0      0      0      0      0      0      0    ­  0
4      0      0      6      0      0      5      0      0
0  ­    9      3      0      5      0      0      1      0
0      0  ­    0      0      0      0      0      0      0
3      0      0  ­    1      9      0      6      0      0
9      6      8      0  ­    7      0      0      4      0
6      5      0      9      0  ­    0      4      0      0
0      0      9      5      0      0  ­    3      0      0
1      0      2      8      6      0      0  ­    9      0

what am i... a makeshift carboot once a nerd
second time a: loved up...
hype? cant you write mathematics
with letters?
algebra: sure thing...
******* Nimrods... can't do a job proper..
half-breeds: inbreeding
cousin H'arab question marks...
0         0"people"... less than things...
at least i'd want to knock on a door...
these people i just want to mull with
a stampede... little gherkin **** offs...

how does that saying go:
i came cross a woman
and a tornado:
sure as **** the tornado didn't leave me questioning
my masculinity... or that i might be a walk abortion:
glad to know all the future mothers and their sons...
rather walk into a storm than love
a woman... at least: her mother...
can be less: teasing...
most obvious and...
n'ah... i'd prefer...
oh wait... she's not into blonde haired guys...
she's a blonde...
sure... i'm into Turkic raven haired types...
i'm into: Calypso mongrel
                mullattes...
good to know: she's not into me:
i'm not into her... shout and welcome
all those in-between copper-necking that's
to come: what do "we" call them?
when it's diluted?
aspiring Pakistani?
give it two generations...
give it enough dilution...
the supposed authority genes will fade...

a tale of two-number quests...
what's in brackets out to be either:
superscript or... "squared":
hello: the earth is "flat":
fastened to some spaghetti imitating shoelaces... no?

0      0      0      0      0      0      0      0      0
4 ­     0      0      6      0      0      5      0      0
0      9 ­     3      0      5      0      0      1      0
0      0      0 ­     0      0      0      0      0      0
3      0      0      1 ­     9      0      6      0      0
9      6      8      0      7 ­     0      0      4      0
6      5      0      9      0      0 ­     4      0      0
0      0      9      5      0      0      3 ­     0      0
1      0      2      8      6      0      0      9 ­     0

let me gives you a map of this flat flat world....
i couldn't find the proper, superscript...
hence some... "details" in brackets...
here's the map:

look at the brackets... wait: don't look
at them... (revised with superscript)

5¹³     8⁴⁰     6⁸       7³⁷     1⁵¹     9⁵⁰     2⁴²     3⁴⁷     4¹⁵
4⁰      2³⁹     1²³      6⁰      8⁴¹     3⁴⁹      5⁰      7⁴⁶­     9⁴⁸
7²⁵      9⁰      3⁰      4¹⁶      5⁰      2²⁶      8²⁴  ­    1⁰      6⁴
2²⁷     1²²     5²¹     3³³     4¹⁷      6¹¹     9⁴³      8⁴⁴     7⁴⁵
3⁰      7²⁸     4¹⁸      1⁰      9⁰      8¹⁹      6⁰      5²⁰      2²⁹
9⁰      6⁰­      8⁰       2³²      7⁰      5¹⁴     1³⁸      4⁰      3³⁴
6⁰      5⁰      7⁴       9⁰      3⁵³      1⁵²      4⁰      2³⁰      8³⁶
8³      4²      ­9⁰       5⁰      2³¹      7¹²      3⁰      6¹⁰      1³⁵
1⁰      3¹      ­2⁰       8⁰      6⁰       4³       7⁷       9⁰       5⁶

such the narrative...  i'll be relaxed:
poaching the hand of one of these and then feeding
it back to then: to hell with your Christianity and love...
your civilised state of
keeping a pacified argument...
no: you experience this sort of *******:
first... come back to me... and tell me: i hope:
otherwise!
Antonio Dec 2015
Under his bed collecting dust.
An old toy, no one to trust.
Take this chord, around my neck. Pray to God that they forget.
Start to slip, then feel a hand.
Pull me from this dusty den.  
Untie the rope and looks at me.
Runs away, what did he see?
A tale from years past, darker times. They're coming back
Nikita Marley May 2013
The squeak of rubber soles on the tiled red and black floor. The tripping over ourselves. The track. And you Regina. Making our heads spin slowly. Or Broadway at midnight, Pandora. Dancing, ignoring Mateo next door. After all he is louder than us. Maybe. The July, August, then September sun fading slowly. The gentle kisses of rain on our cheeks and lips. The wet hair, flinging back and forth. Ikea. Rocks. Sexist boys. Thunder. Hipsters. Hips. Chests. Smiles. Laughter. Singing. Dancing. Wet. Perfect. Stage. Dark. These make up our times together. The train. This houses some of them. Ice, cold and hot, slipping over our skin. Water makes us up. We make up our minds. Emails. By the time summer comes, we shall be gone. Taking our chemistry and voices away. Apart we are nothing. Together we are a chorus. Songs. They make up most of what we are. Emotions. They are us.
mumu Jun 2018
Under the big old tree
I sit there quietly
Reading new book I found
Diving into world I thought I belong

Once, I was Hannah Baker
Sharing my secret story
This is my truth about you
What is your truth about me?

I envy Ponnyboy
He had lots of friends
And one true friend
A reason to stay gold in the end

And I know the feeling of Samantha McAllister
Looking for a place where you belong
A place where your voices are heard
I found my Poet's Corner

Then I dreamed just liked Lara Jean
That someday, I will find true love
Someone will help me conquer my fear
Someone who will give me life

But I guess I am Finch
Love will never save me
I keep on breathing
But I know will be drown

But just like Rufus and Mateo
Tho I know how I'm going to end
I don't want to meet it
I'm still afraid to die
Hi there! Probably you noticed that my reference here are characters from some of YA Novels. Actually these are SOME of my long list favorite YA novels. These books have seriously discussed mental illness and issues. And I can spend a whole day for you just to talk about these books —Just prepare a coffe and pasta for me <3
Hey, mind to share your favorite YA Novels, I'm actually looking for a new books to read :)
Calavera, burlón y algo alocado
Siempre Ricaurte fue, pero valiente;
Y un día, con Bolívar que iba al frente,
Se marchó a Venezuela uniformado.

De «San Mateo» brilla el sol. Cercado
Se ve el parque. Bolívar, impaciente,
Al cerro se lanzó, como demente,
Y gritó entonces: «¡Todo está acabado!»

Y respondió Ricaurte: «Dondequiera
Fama dejando voy de calavera....
Pues verán lo que haré sin gran trabajo».

Y fuego al parque le prendió. Subía,
Y en las nubes, riéndose, veía
Su castillo de pólvora aquí abajo.
Zersrol Sep 2018
A young boy
Filled with joy
And innocence
Always so energetic
And so naive
It is as if he had no fear
But I guess
That’s too much
To say
About a baby
This is about my cousin Mateo. I hope you enjoy❤️!
While you search the world what do you hope to find?
A tapestry of stories that only you can design
Imagination blooming like a garden in your mind
Give it a little water don't forget to give it time
When I see a smile on your face it brings me happiness
Makes me think of all the milestones that haven't happened yet
Take your time to explore the world while you unravel it
Love you to the moon and back and that's why I am so passionate
I see a universe inside you it's extravagant
Practicing experiencing what you are imagining
Every time I look into your eyes I just imagine when
You can tell me every thing inside your head that's happening
Truth behind Jun 2017
As I gaze upon reality, I disgust myself for being it's greatest release. For reality now and reality then are but pieces of it's story that cannot predict reality tomorrow. I've watched reality grow. From it's dark yet blissful past to it's bliss yet darkened present. Why? I ask myself every moment that I gaze upon it. Beauty is one of my strongest joys. A joy that coped away all pains of reality, now tainted by lack of beauty, but flourished with desire for it. The world before my time is only a dream in my thoughts as I lay. A place of meaning, simplicity, understanding; a place of wisdom and freedom being one to overcome ignorance and containment; a place where truth prospered and deceit had no strength against the forces of true beauty. I only wonder how my life would write itself in this world that I hold no absolute truth. I only know what has been written since a fetus and thus far. Confusion tis what blinds my ability to find glory where glory seems indefinite.
Faith, hope, potential, understanding. The gifts bestowed upon me by his greatness. Gifts that push me further than those before me. A uniqueness that creates me through my name. Mateo, Mateus, Matayo, Mateias, all with meaning of blessings and change. A change that this so-called  reality yearns for. I hear the voice of greatness begging that I continue with the war that I fight against the darkness that surrounds me in this world. So I fight, for this battle stands for more than beauty, peace, love, wisdom, unity. This battle is fought by me for truth. For only this shall break our chains that hold us from the grace that we seek in living. I, aware of my Destiny, choose not my Destiny. For my life is written, however I shall write my pages as I please for I choose my own Destiny. I choose my own Faith. I choose the path set before me with lead to whatever foot I select to lead. In that I find my freedom. In that I find truth. In that I find beauty. In only that...I find Reality. But this is only a mere shard of what I seek. A mere fragment of the battle that holds itself beyond my very eyes. A man of many wars, many philosophies,many strengths. And yet a man of many Fears, many pains, and many tears spawned by the clouds that make my lens and condensated from the sadness that is created in mind. I stand in limbo as I view this world and come to realize one statement of pure significance. This is not reality. But what is reality? Do you wonder? Do you know? No. You live in it yet do not know where you are. Lost but Found is who I am but you are Found but Lost. Difference being awareness. I see what isn't through strength and complexity in my perception. You see through desire and simplicity in a dead man's eye. Blind. You see what is wanted and given. You see what your eyes lay, as Beauty in her sleep. You see what your mind craves as a leopard craves a gazelle but can't run, for it has let it's mind steal it's legs with utter deceit. Do you wish to know what I see? I see behind the curtain where the actors perform. I see the black feather of the white dove. I see the things that your mind refuses to see. The beautiful light that you can't appreciate that is the sun. The strength in the weak man's heart that you shun and harm because of their flaws. The words that you, not can't, but won't pronounce, being for what you believe as difficult. I see what you believe you see.
Reality.
When I was confused about the world I decided to look deeper past the things that lowered my hope. When I found enlightenment in this search I suddenly came to a realization. Thus, this poem was born.
James Floss Nov 2019
It was a fun day
On the Bay of Fundy
When Chris, Jane, Mateo and Juan
Happened to look leftward

New Brunswick looked old as
The ocean shimmered singularly
Porpoises poised ominously and
The captain seemed bereft

"4° starboard, Coxswain!” he bellowed
Before the worst occurred
Juan saw it just before Jane
As the ship ****** accordingly

Beside, the thing from nowhere
The beast that could not be
Krakened enormously
Splitting sea and sky

Mateo was the first to plead,
“Why, oh why, here and just now?”
He beseeched sea, beast, and sky
“Why not?” Crackled the Kracken

The sum of fun on bay of Fundy
Ended that day in mid July
The  flying fish remember
All those who did not die
Ryan Seth Cole Mar 2020
My convictions rest upon the assurance of things not seen. Like the infant who is not whole and yet to be wean. I am moved along by a light that I can barely see. There is a hope deep down inside. All the while it is the only hope that help's me breathe.

When all I have known is pain. When I did not live, I walked by shame. When I moved to change, I was chastised that I did not move the same. I assure you son there is a comfort through these things.

There is a light beyond the horizon that is buried by the dark. Which eyes have not seen but can be felt with your heart. Where weary legs kneel and All sin departs. Where you are justified and a new life starts.

My humanity questioned every step of the way but I had trust in One that all one day will soon change.

Your legs cannot carry you my beloved little boy, the road is not paved. It is an uncharted, terrifying terrain. It's every obstacle is met with strain. It's every heartache you will face along the way. It is not by yourself that you can make the way.

We are weak and flawed inside. If we had the strength; we would boast with pride. You must deny your depravity and cling to the Son to make stride. Accept and acknoledge just who you are. Confess it to Him that sit's on High.

Jesus Christ is the only way. He will supply you with His Grace. His Grace is sufficient. He will walk with you and supply you every step of the way. His love is greater than mine and He walks outside of time. But when He comes to rescue you it is always on time.

It is hard to see this or understand this when you are blind. But when He saves you son, He will also open your eyes. You will see that there is no chance of making it your own way. No chance at pleasing God unless you have Faith. My dear son, Jesus Christ is the only way. When you fall remember this name. When you arise rememeber His name.

He will be the one to bring you home to me. He will be the reason your heart sings. He will be in your weakness your strength. I love you so much. These are my last words. I pray you keep them and reverence them to be true just as I did and so I lived.

To my beloved first born.
-Mateo Cole Ortega

Your father.-Ryan Seth Cole
I write these words to be read to my son at my funeral. When the day comes that he might know how much I love him and what I want for him most.
Ivette Feb 2019
So when we first met, I didn't know I was gonna fall for you really hard... but I did and now look at us.

You make me really happy and I just had no idea there was such thing as the feeling I have when I'm around you.

The whole time I never thought me and you were ever going to happen... now we're cuddling, kissing, and just staring in each other's eyes while smiling.

I love it when you play with my hair, I love it when you hold my hand

Now, whenever I see you I turn red and you make fun of it calling it cute, and I do the same with you, especially the first kiss on the cheek

This was so unexpected. Who knew something so great would ever happen to me.. I love you, Mateo
yeah I wrote his name for once
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2022
listen... i started writing to you personally... but then... i conjured up a lightning flash of ideas... i'm going to make it public... i can't help myself... you're still intact as a private entity... but i just itch when i hit a lightning storm of ideas... esp. associate with phonetic puzzles... and the Hebrew deity... i'm also too prone to being aggrevated by Easter...

well: i am truly grateful that you can share with me your innermost details: your modus operandi... i have two thoughts about water... rain... hmm... rain is my crux... the sound of a flowing river... that's tier two... but... living in London... hmm... the Thames is a strange river... you can't actually hear it flow... because it doesn't... one of... all the rivers i've come across that has a high tide and a low tide... looking at it... it sort of: sits there... like a lake... a ***** ******* lake: but a lake nonetheless... it's a lazy river... it doesn't have any tenacity about it... it seems to have not vitality of a metaphor used by Heraclitus... it has a sea similarity: it is governed by a tide... it's beautiful when the tide comes in and the river bulges to the brink of the Embankment... it's such an eerie river... but unlike most rivers... it's silent... the water ripples... but there seems to be hardly any current... how can there be... if there's a high tide and a low tide? sea... i try my best... to appreciate it... my mother is hugely appreciative of the sea... me? i prefer the vast unknown of a forest... i'm more appreciative of wind (air) than water... esp. if i enter a forest at night on a windy night... i like the music of dried branches... i like the howling of the wind being almost directionless... peering through cracks in the foliage... roughing it up like... if you can an imagine what people get into with ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response)... where you to concentrate water, having a sleepless night... with the tap dripping... funny that... i'd feel a "disgust" toward the audio... or rather: merely an itch... when the expression of water is man-made... i recoil... i can't delve into it giving me any comfort... air... on the other hand... give me the wind in the forest... sudden gusts of force... air... and then give me singing... i'm recently a convert to the Hans Zimmer Dune soundtrack... but don't get me wrong... Brian Eno's original take... esp. the prophecy theme is still dear to my heart... the reinvention is just darker... and if we were to throw fire into this whole affair... the sound of crackling branches in a fire... that's almost comforting... i'm thinking: what if i could only replace the television set with a fireplace... or if not a fireplace... an aquarium... but... ugh... sometimes you just have to be up to speed with other people's creative output... to live in a said time... but the alternative is more than tempting: it's calling me...you lived in San Francisco? that must have been fun: back when San Francisco wasn't that independent commentators describe it as: a hell hole... or most of California... i wish i could live as simply as what you described... on some tropical island like Samoa in the Pacific... i suspect life can be coupled with a sort of nonchalance when approaching certain realities that otherwise force us to... perform ulterior motives... when in the cold... you need to huddle... blah blah... but to reiterate... i'm more of an air person than a water person... esp. during the English storm-month... when the islands get battered to the point that even Essex feels the magnitudes... the woodland pigeons fly so fast you'd think the winds would be able to break their wings apart...  the trees don't have any leaves... so... they... clank... clank... like a pirate with a wooden leg walking on a deck of a wooden ship... and if you time it just right... the aura of the night can also take over... see... i never understood that in English you shorten people's names... in ******... there's actual diminutive tools in place... KACZKA: duck... can become: KACZUSZKA (small duck): it's an endearing fabric of the language... but... certain "things" remain intact... names of people... in English you will have a Peter... and the "diminutive" of Peter is: Pete... Michael becomes Mike... Matthew becomes Matt... Samantha becomes Sam... it's... lazy... it's ugly... but it's the fabric of the language... do not becomes don't... how my mother tongue works when it comes to the names of people? just using my example... from the "elaborate" Mateusz: my name becomes translated into either Finnish or Italian to not stress the SH (SZ, same ****, different cover) at the end... so either Matti or Mateo... why would i refer to you aas Edie? that's almost: Edward... since... short for Edward in short-hand English is: Eddy... and if you were to break that down to the raw phonetics: E-die... you have a name... it's elevated for the purpose of referring to you by: the... theta... if i were to write it in Greek... εδιη (maybe i'm not getting my eta contra epsilon bearings right, we'll see)... εδθ... see... i could simply write... what the Roman text allows me... but... you're missing a letter... in my mother tongue that's an: IGREK... Y... which is upsilon... but no... i can't just write an iota in between the delta and the theta... but i also can't write the upsilon... since... it's not an IGREK... i need graffiti-phonetics... E-DEEF... not deaf... exactly: like dear isn't deer... E-DEEF... like DEAD is not DEED... i know what i need... a diphthong (φθ): but these didn't exist in Greek... εδθ: the letter that's missing is a hollowed out U... it's a parabola with a leg to stand on... it's not even close to: E-D... oh such... Edyph... **** me... sorted... i had to replace the theta for the phi... and... like a magic pinball machine... the "why" or Y... approved... strange letter... don't you think? it could never be trusted as a vowel... not in my language... not in the English language, even though...

a   e                 o  u
   Y                     H              
   i                    ą   ę

        which is the right arm... now coming to the left arm...

ś  ł  ź
   W                      i'm going to ignore the acute O
ć    ż
                      it's just a ploy for an orthographic aesthetic...
to distinguish spelling mantras from an upsilon...
the second H in the tetragrammaton is...
either a laughter generator or a sigh capturer...
all diphthong manner of dealings...
the Latin æ, i.e.:
                                         æ   e
                                            H
                                          a   æ....

like i already mentioned... we're not going to
be going into the orthographic aesthetic of
the acute omicron...
the left of the tetragrammaton:
is a vowel catcher... one that either instigates
laugher... or catches sighs...

magically the iota and the upsilon merged:
into a "gamma"... of Y...
the splinter tongue of the serpent...
      i call to witness...
           the merger of the Hebrew though
from: the Latin...
   that this deity might testify... its phonetic
credentials... i: for one: will not serve
no "Allah"...
         day upon day... year upon year:
i have become entrenched in...
fulfilling the motives of the one, true...
deity...
                      
the English language has no concept of orthography!
it's... prone to... metaphysics...
to... para-reality...
to... trans-"prefixations" of the glories
of some, supposed, democracy...
but... without... diacritical stressors...
it lacks... orthography... that's its downfall:
toward... disrepair...

εδȗθ...
                      suppose i used a comma...
addition... on the upsilon...
to give it a more Roman accent?!

exactly... i can't exactly get rid or either iota
or epsilon / eta... when trying to wriggle
a quasi-upsilon-omega: dip!

that's the battle... ie and uo...
      certain examples have to be ushered in...
you don't say: die-ꟻ-F-ONG...
you say... dyphthong... because the iota
morphes... you dip... into... hollowing out
an upsilon: which is already hollowed
out to make the trinity of

                       υ  ω
                         Y
                         o

even if the supposed son: only son?! died upon the cross...
illiterate little ******...
here's me... picking up the literacy pieces...
making... associations...
oh sure: sure... this could fit... here... there...
i was never going to like being asked being
someone else's *******: choir, boy!

there are certain things in life... more important
than the territorial foregoings
of all that's ever supposedly to be mortal...
ask any man: what he might wish to envision...
a celestial... takeover... a lineage born
not more genes... but... the fury of ideas...
men ought to pride themselves not
on mere acquisition of wealth...
but... inexhaustible expenditure...
                        
                  i ought to be allowed to govern with
as much little... as: too much doesn't allow me to
govern...
because: i simply don't want as much...
i want the bare minimum...
               the little as possible leaves
me with the contention...
i want the least harm to grieved by
the greatest of many...
          to live: via dying trying...
                what an adventure....
                 one life... one hope...
                tomorrow's just another cope...
       hello Mars.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2023
sensitivity: or the bearing of (a) soul...
i am almost tempted - no, i was:
almost tempted to omit the indefinite article
in that sentence,
it almost "almost" sounds better...
hence a "rephrasing":

    sensitivity: or the bearing of soul...

because it's not unlike the soul is something
either definite or indefinite that requires
some grammatical forensic articulation

say, unlike the Freudian trinity ego egg and ****
that schematic monstrosity of
19th century (late 19th century)
bourgeoise neurotic-sensibilities
fetishised by people with enough
luxury: time, money to evaluate ciphers
in dreams...

no no, oh no... none of that...

i've come to a parallel vision,
by now there have been two focal women in my life:

my life is a tragic echo-chamber realism,
it's like i'm utterly attached to reality
albeit - not however - consummating olden
wordings... hmm... a hmm for every hunchback
ghost-limb scratch...

zahnschleifenliebe:
apostrophes the raised commas...

i've come to a parallel vision,
the women per se but more to the point:
how these women sheltered me from media ingestion,
so much so that i can positively make

Russia and Kauai (Hawaii) synonyms in terms
of how little exposure i had to
the brainwashing fabric / fabrication of
they grey man of reaction - the mob facet, pivot...

a month in Russia (with the language barrier)
and a month on Kauai...
because there's no IN relating to Hawaii...
in Russia implies: a land-locked geography,
you can never be IN Hawaii,
you are always somehow ON Hawaii...
a ship or something, most certainly an island:
and spin-spin-go-go going nowhere...
no one says (i think, therefore probably n00b)
i'm in... no wait...

doesn't matter...
leading articles in the Saturday Times
november 18 2023... the editorial section...
what's not to like?
i.e. defenders of the apostrophe are right
to admire this versatile linguistic device...

elses' sloppy...

         residents of Twyford, Hampshire,
dispossessed by the council's adoption
(i was almost fine with the spelling adoptation,
until i realised... porridge partridge
creases in white shirts, ****)

         St. Mary's Terrace a St. Marys Terrace...
apostrophe as indicator of 's: possessive article
since... the plural article is simple s
and the possessive plural article is s'

      and no S'S... schultzschnoofstafforshire!
brr... coldness of memory reaching as far back
as the finest army uniforms ever on show:
that Hugo Boss brigade: because what good
is the Holy Scripture without the Holy Evil
of the Nazis... admiration...
can't compare: since it's so easily revised and
thrown at opposition by the left... oids...
lefty politics is better than religion in terms
of it being a neo-******...
it's what gets my heart in a flutter
   whenever i feel apathetic...
   can't beat a mythological case for pure evil...

ah... me off on a tangent...
two months in my life i was sheltered from being
influenced by media... all done by women
with the Edenic rapture of ***...
once at 21 with a 19 year old
and once at 37 with a 55 year old...
as a ****** i covered the whole Cold War
dynamic, ****** for both sides
and ****** both sides
and thus still strapped to the Mniema...
Niemy - dumbfounded Germanic
sieve...          third cousin from Saxon
through Dutch to English... wasps...

            so it's almost ridiculous how i made
English a language of choice of how to express
while those sorry sods write about
identity politics and immigration mentality...
i'm just bothered that i can't be exactly
Essex accented because my standard cosmopolitan
London 'ing-leash is just so...
    
oh i got drunk last night... i had to...
never in all the shifts i worked at Wembley
did i manage to get home so quickly...
waited 0.5sec for the Metropolitan line at
Wembley park station,
then waited 2min at Finchley road for the jubilee
line... 4 stops to Bond street
and "waited" / utilised the time to walk
the entire platform for the Elizabeth line...
then 3min waiting for the 499 bus
so i had time to buy myself a bottle of cider
get off the bus and drink it at a bus stop...
pre-drinking... marvelous pouring rain...
like... shattering of a mirror...
a shattering of a mirror into a nth term
eye mandala of Jung... or Tool...

shift finished early by 10:30pm
and i was happily in my garden drinking at 11:50pm
the harder liquor...

but on the train...
hmm... wooden ring deterrent...
so could have thought, but no...
she spotted me coming in at Tottenham Court Rd
stood in the aisle... played with her hair...
fiddled with it at first then pretended to
put it in a bun...
admired herself in the glass...
well... i wasn't having much fun listening
to Wardruna's Fehu or Helvegen...
so by the time she sat down across me
and phoned a friend i had already muted the music
and started listening...

bad date... no... a funny date...
oh jeez the complications... a shorter guy...
same matted hair...
easy conversation and no... over dinner...
no drinking...
but all this flirting...
standing on my feet for 12 hours straight
started to massage my legs...
what the hell does she do?
exposes her knees...
                                     subtle clues and cues...
this whole bonanza of a woman playing
with her hair...
in close proximity...
i know the psychological mantra spewed
into making our behaviours predictably constipated
like we've lost our own mystery...
like philosophy reached a cul de sac
when psychology became mainstream...
i don't want to hear it...
i still want to be mesmerised by...
an ontological perfume... a trace of being:
not a full-blown existential schematic
of / for automatons / zombies...

rule of thumb regurgitation (of) reincarnations,
perhaps it was the age-power dynamic
of i'm older she's younger
i have signs of grey implying wizened
where my beard begins and no sideburns "exist"
and yes: she didn't have a chance to show-off her
dress... and yes... i did notice she had
furry eyebrows or at least she fashioned
them like so...
        by now i'm rekindling the strange commute
because i played along
with the subtleties of flirt
   implying that i was covertly replying to her
almost subliminal messaging tactic...
hell: come to think it... this wasn't subliminal!

next thing i'll hear another doppelganger comparison
that i've stolen the shadow of Brad Pitt
or Chris Hemsworth... pity i have a ******
looking surname like ****** or Stalin...
but i will not be called Matt when i stress to be called
by my name proper...
someone at work once said:
only my mother gets to call me Matthew...
well in my case i'm Mateo... so... debunking Italian
in the Dąbrowski March...

oh yeah... there are only one or two maybe three
decent national anthems...
the French the Polish and the Russians
have the most appealing national anthems...
just like there's a genius to Abba
but hardly any in the Beatles... period...

so much for music:

gladius Rōmae imperī sum,
ubi’st nostrum imperium?
nē plōrā, mater Rōma,
dēnuō flōrēbis

Βελισάριος Βελισάριος - Oₕ        Aₕ
                                                  ₑₔₑₙ'ₛ

                            Eden's Siamese chim'pan'zees...

U turn into (∇) the nebula of Nabla:

(ego): Σ of being....

      Σsum =  fractus + fractus
1/2 + 2/1
ergo              Σsum = -1/2 always...

the half that's constantly missing you...
the power of *** and the dangers of ***...
i should have learned it at the brothel...
but it was all oh so casual like treating meat
in cuts before ensuring that the *******
were saved for the main course on a different
day and the rest of the chicken was used
to make a clear chicken soup
with carrots, leeks, parsley roots, celery,
celeriac...
this emotional investment is...
   a liberation and a project of self-awareness:

how will i try to sound less synthetic less
robotic?

i'm not even trying to be cryptic but my heart
is complicating what i want to say
and i don't want to say what it feels
with my cognitive wants,
notably utilising noun or verb crutches...

which is why i want to conjure "lesser" historical
figures... not that Philip Augustus of France
is a "lesser" figure... not when coupled
to the dynamic of Henry II, John and Richard I...
while Charlemagne stands alone...

by now this piece of writing has become music...
there is no investment in plot...
language can become just that... music or painting...
there's no conveying of direction,
there's no wisdom, wisdom as direction...
to hell with Levant wisdom...
i'll be the last man of the north
to listen to the "wisdom" of the desert...
i will dearly cut off this influence from my psyche...
gladly crucified the ****** and so be done with it:

to the point where, professionally:
we tried to stamp out racism with anti-racism:
i can't be an anti-racist...
i find racists a rather funny breed of people...
racism expressed unintentionally is
so rewarding... because it follows from
the basic principle of colour as meaning:
traffic... red is stop, amber is be ready
and green is flow... even though blue is more associated
with flow... then again... most rivers look green...
well... beside the Thames sun and concrete starved...

not since Ginsberg's poem i heard the word
***** hair coming from... well...
some sort of Arab, given his name was Fawad...
so some ****** version of piglet-pink
not marred by the cold of the north of Europe...
oh hell... we're in this together somehow...
no impeding Mongolian horde yet still
the best horror story i ever heard came
from my father:

i had a childhood friend once...
he committed suicide...
why? he was seeing this girl...
then the girl started to **** my father's friend's father...
epic horror story...
which is sort of me... right now...
i can conjure up this insecurity in
my current relationship...
she could easily take to my father
and usher out my mother into the street...
i like this fetish-fear...
it's a phobia-philia...
    anti-Oedipal and more: Kronos affirming...
just like i like the idea of the ancient Roman
practice of fostering children...
because i have no gene-incentive to speak of
because genes are fractions while
ideas are whole numbers... fetishist par excellence:

fluid French thinking, if thinking is French or was...
oh but it sort of it... since pragmatism is English
and thinking for thinking's sake is
not really pragmatic it therefore must be French
and if anything is to be resolved it has to be resolved
on Greenwich Mean Time terms... blah blah...

for now, just that... an exercise in writing.
Kathleen Sep 2021
The Dumbarton Bridge begins with fetid life and ends in Zuckerburg's hollowed-out castle--
the sharp lines and primary colors of a tantrum.
The San Mateo Bridge begins with a ramp into the heavens,
welcoming all motor vehicles to the same celestial kingdom,
then proceeds to descend into the bay, leaving passengers eye-level with the sea birds collecting on floating lampposts--
funneling traffic through the waves back to the baffled freeway.
On the weekends we followed the road from our apartment until it stopped-- dead-ended at a nature reserve.
The salt marshes were littered with the worn posts of wooden structures,
caked in white,
offered with penance to the birds whose long beaks needled the shoreline...
The remains of pools in candy-colored reds and pinks,
the rust-colored scrub that looked like coral springing from the corners of the pathways
that lined cracking beds of arid, once-was, soupy water.
(alternately titled: whipping and pommel ling
das soar addle brain)

My most recent deuce score
     plus three bajillion ban
an nah ram ma orbitz
squared bob sponge pants
     day of birth passed uneventfully –
     (round el sol) saw me dan
sing around one average star, which Evan
chilly wool worth hilly exhibit

     death throe tulle pan
dum mo' knee yum -
     becoming a black hole sun,
     when photon illumination
     totally tubularly blinks
     out more'n Knots Lan
ding all countries
     with exception of Japan

(if only for explicit purpose
     of this poem) can
did lee stated fan
silly free and foot loose
     to appease the ghost of Ivan
the Terrible, who would
     phish she shuss lee
     never fin hush his

     rage against the machine
     foaming at the mouth
asper gar non sequitur
     spoiler alert hint  
     aye made debut 13th of Jan)
and now for no rhyme,
     nor reason mention
     nothing (by the way)

     written thus far tan
gent shill to the square      
     of hide bound
Halliburton Hippopotamus,
     whose first name
     Horton doth move in clan

destine fashion, oh...and nope
     definitely not related
     to ancestors of Kublai Khan
whose nickname Lloyd
though, whoa, wow,
     and yikes quite a time span

'tween that Mongol
     consigning, conning, and condemning
     “FAKE” deplorable trump
     ping app Paul
     ling Peters to Azkaban
nonetheless, aye never aver
     witnessed no fanfare
     for this common (c'mon) man

lettuce high tail gangnam style to San
Mateo (matt er factly
     founded, settled, and
     populated by Scottish
     donning Harris tweed

a hop, skip and jump by van
from this yan
key dude dull who lives ian
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.
LKenzo Dec 2020
Limpiaste el mundo de gente cruel pero no conseguiste deshacerte de mi*

Luce la muerte
con su negra toga
Grazna el cuervo
con su hosco cantar
El cielo, esta bien
si no es una broma cruel
A tu lado, de esta manera
me siento entera,
no quiero avanzar ni desaparecer
he llegado a dar la vuelta completa.
A las puertas del ala oeste del castillo,
el juglar empuñando la espada,
el bufón riendo sus gracias,
dónde las putas
se taparon todas el ombligo
para olvidar que alguna vez habían nacido.
Es triste pero me dan vértigo las estrellas
viviendo a una altura de once varas
Sigo sin poder dormir sin ti.
Trago de agua salada
para mis pulmones
estaba en ese concierto,
al lado del mar
y escuchaba más las olas
que contra las rocas se estrellaban
que la música que centelleaba.
Aunque me hayas hecho mal
estar contigo me da la paz
“mucho me va a costar entender que al final mejor que no te vea”.

Susurras mi condena en el aire
y el viento se lleva mi lamento
al saber por fin el veredicto
de cual quieres que sea mi destino.
Mi castigo.
Si los animales hablasen
los hombres llorarían
lágrimas de sangre
Deciden sin piedad
subiendo, bajando
San Pedro, San Judas, San Mateo,
Santa Juana de Arco
de ***** en blanco.
El mordisco del hombre lobo en ti
el beso de la sirena en mi
Si la serpiente serpenteante
se te acercase, tendrías miedo
Si todas esas mujeres
volviesen a abrir los ojos
y fijamente te mirasen
Estarías avergonzado
avergonzado el resto de tu vida
el resto de tu vida
para el resto de tu vida
de tu vida.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2021
i suppose there are variations of this name...
some cite it as of: Turkic origin...
   i'm not going to agree or disagree...

evidently the insertion of the second surd H
was of my own scrutiny...
although it's not necessary...
i don't suppose the first surd H is necessary
either... given that i've employed
a macron on top of the vowel
to make emphasis of elongation...
which the surd H also stresses:

instead of kaa... either way:
a double emphasis...
like... writing something in: italics
after a colon...
the colon is an emphasis as is the italics...
"misnomer"...

... and some ****** ska-punk
with KULT's - brooklyńska rada żydów...
like any ****** might make summary
of: Oh... they left?
what happened to that old saying of theirs
that my grandfather recounted
to me once...
of the 'ebrews living in Poland...

wasze ulice, nasze kamienice...
your streets... our tenements...
i don't suppose...

anyways... enough of that...
no wonder... i'm no duracell bunny...
i can't just get a hard-on
in a company of two...
it's different when i'm completely:
unabashed... solo...
today i checked myself...
not much to look at...
cleavage, some thighs... hair... lips...
hands...
six times i spotted myself
with a proper wedding tackle...
six times i stopped myself from
*******...
so... this thing's on?
it's working...

now i see the bigger... funnier picture...
a few night ago...
after a... draught... "season":
i'm starting to suspect those 3 years
are actually 4 years without being
intimate with a women...

a dysfunction of the *******...
i'm not going to pop some ******* pill...
it's like push-ups...
or the trick the mind plays when
you're cycling up a hill and feed into
those thoughts of giving up...

perhaps i just wasn't that much into her?
perhaps she wasn't that much into me...
upon entering the brothel
she was sitting alone...
the matriarch said there would be more
available in about 20 minutes...
she was sitting alone...
i figured... if this isn't going to be a slap
in the face...
i don't know what will...

i like 'em... older... cougar-esque...
with a full-blossom of hips... stomach...
****... *** and **** like a royals-royce rather than
a sporty Lamborghini...
skin like... well worn leather...
nothing too: cherished and un-tested
akin to a ******...

for an hour i tried...
worked for about ten minutes...
but was i crippled with a sense of shame that would
turn me into a Jack ol' Ripper with
thoughts on revenge...
she was pretty... all that's pretty about
the Romanian countryside...
fake lashes... extravagant nails...
i caressed her... we exchanged some words:

ochi (romanian)... aha... oczy (******):
eyes... lips... ears... eyebrows...
i bit her tenderly to test the waters...
pinched her... suckled a while...
while my hands were already all octopus below
her threshold...
i ****** at my fingers and tested whether she was
aroused...
hell: i've missed most times than i could ever:
****'s sake... all that *****
and the point of insertion is always below
what i'm "expecting"...

but i drank too much...
better be all the more nervous and only 50ml of
whiskey in than... 300ml of whiskey
and having issues with the ******* tool...
literally...
hell... i would be willing to put on a strap-on
***** but... seeing how she was not in the mood:
and i found myself: not in the mood either...

eh... what could be bad with some kissing...
some caressing some hugging some...
if i were really going for some
Trojan cohort ****-buddy: forget me not
egoism...
i'd have them lined up, wouldn't i?
3 / 4 years without touching someone
so intimately...
i call that the ice-breaker date in the brothel...

mind you... i cleaned up after myself:
i insisted...
i took that welcome shower prior...
and as we walked out... i sat down...
cornered...
now there were three of them and the matriarch
sitting in the waiting room...

hmm...i suppose: UN-like talking to three
girls in a nightclub...
talking to three prostitutes in a brothel...
some "things" become... obvious...
i have something they want...
they have something i want...
who's going to date? no... one...

me talking casually with three prostitutes
in a brothel would be...
unlike that ****** funfair of three girls
in a nightclub...
the cards are laid on the table...
you either take it... or don't...

recently i've been listening to some "mano-sphere"
******* and i'm just like...
no... i can't listen to this...
get over it... stop talking about it...
turn your focus onto something else...
me... i just drank too much
and... she wasn't my type...
but she was sitting all alone and if i waited
with her for those 20 minutes before
the one that's my type walked in...

just some tenderness...
i don't mind paying for that...
at least there won't be any free nagging and *******...
ha! obviously!

- and as we walked out from a room of
improper deeds
there sat... Khāda... there was that immediate
connection: she: all leather...
like an armchair in reverse...
it's so terrible to stress sexuality among
the English:
why do i have to be that...
perverted... congested... ****-lord...
this...                  oh-it's-naughty borderline
gimmick... i don't like the concept of ***
among these natives...

but there she sat... this implosion
of an armchair...
glorious in her skin as leather...
she said she was Turkic... i figured...
honey... you belong further east down
the silk road: you are teasing the Raj...
all the more for me to like...

as she started to tease me with her *******
in her hands...
i told her: i'll be coming for seconds
for you... believe me...
she liked me... she even wanted to have a listen
to what music i was listening to:

wardruna's helvegen...
she asked me for my name...
matthew...           wha? she asked...
matti... mateo... mathias... mateusz...
second name... conrad...
two good names to have...
so i asked what her's was...
up came  Khāda...
but of course i had to...
   write it down on a tissue for her to read...

what a bulging plush of womanhood...
everything i want to be in love with...
older than me... plump...
something i can fix my pincers on:
creasing some more of the already established:
mandible parts...
well worn... skin like leather...

as i departed with 3 glasses of delay...
her friend joked at me being a gentleman for kissing
her hand upon parting...
Khāda i kissed on the hand and cheek...
while this Romanian girl lodged between them
i kissed on the forehead...

you can't not love women...
even if they are prostitutes...
   i can't listen to men stress the need for the purity of
women...
i've listened... i've come back with
stomach pains...
now a test... i'll drink less
and worry: even less...
about... what's that word...
  that word... exposure... no...
upkeeping... no...
stamina... almost...
         PERFORMANCE!

never you mind that i pull my ******* back
to give imitation to the most pristine
representation of the phallus....
among women who....
will not don a niqab etc.?
               for a compensation?
no problem:
i'll just just sheave and practice jerking off...
oh... this time...
i better not drink...

Khāda seems like a woman that's all that's
fun and i don't want a limp-biscuit-of-a-****
to worry her...
she seemed into me and i was... most certainly
into her...

the moment i forget having to desecrate
virgins... and lean in into some
flesh... is the moment i can pardon myself
with: life... and a scrutiny of relexation...
this impasse of sub-par...
performance will not discourage me...
i'm already planning a second date
of stomach crunches of: suckling up to
a phlegm-and-sick being ushered out
from this same gob...

3 / 4 years of "procrastinating":
from a... vector... akin to hunger...
akin to shelter...
when i need a ****... i need a ****...
sorry me for not hitting the mark
with an ******* and a fully-working
hard-on...

oh but this *****...
   she's right up there in me desire to dream...
since i hardly dream...
i can see her as this antithesis of *******:
although i've limited to looking at stuff
deviating from any possible ***** envy...
all the curves... hell... anything that might be sculptered
by Rodin...

i'll just go to the brothel...
nervous as a lobster... sober, though... and therefore
perform my little litany of:
piston at the ready...
juiced up oyster second best...

oh that "thought": what if i don't...
well then... i won't be... glamour-****-egoism
to mind... further conquests...
i hardly imagine christ on the crucifix
with a hard-on...
so i'll imagine myself being crucified
when attempting to be intimate
with a *******: for the giggles...

i'm not going to drop the pill... i'll continue to rephrase
the sentiment: i was either too drunk
or wasn't in the mood...
or she wasn't on my palette!
but this one... and since she was so engaging...
god... a volume of a woman...
everything requiring a leather analogy...
makes one think about *******
an elephant standing on a ladder...
but not an obese beached-whale type...
just this: completeness of woman...
that most certainly hasn't focused itself
on breeding offspring...

plush... harness proof...
come the barrage of the sea...
or the tide within the confines of a river summary:
this woman...
like she was... almost... edible...
of course she was edible:
but i'm teasing in halves...
she's still a movie creature...

here's be celebrating sobering up...
i'll pretend to ******* six times
on the thighs...
once on the cleavage...
before i take my turn...
on what her sigma will ****-up...

as i will not... listen to men bemoaning their...
adventures in Darwinism...
you can only hear so much of it...
after a while you just...
unconsciously gamble with what's on offer...
fair enough: protecting the younglings
while protecting your whittle harem...
i don't mind women that feel like...
their skin is leather...
and their body posturing is an imploded
armchair...
i also much admire the ancient Roman
liberalism concerning...
fostering...
the ancient Romans... the most noble...
of the highest hierarchical certainty of preservation...
em... they...

fostered offspring?
******* son of a ******* uncle: i'll father you...
said some Augustus...
what's being focused on?
the... ******* IDEA...
i have no concern for biological reality:
i have, concern for... the cognitive disparity that runs
counter to... whatever nature unconscious dictates!

the problem men have with
the promiscuity of women...
me? i just went to the prostitutes...
let's have it done and dusted...
i'm not here to argue...

my god that blush... of this Turkish...
gloat of a wheat loaf... and...
          amylase of the nibbled on *******...
all her sponge of buttocks...
her turn-tilde of hips...
             she's not edible but i... just... want...
to... eat: her!
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2022
this weather would drive anyone mad...
maybe i'm just weird...
plenty of people: normal people:
normie SIMS
                          adore summer...
you can sometimes watch one guy
walking around the street without
a shirt... or: girl just needs to wear a bikini...
i get it...
    even i'm thinking about cycling
shirtless and donning nothing
but lycra-shorts...

                        i'm too modest:
i'll probably do the usual and put cotton
shorts on top of the lycra...
    and i probably won't cycle shirtless...
i think my hairy chest
and hairy stomach and my "mark of Cain":
my missing "pound of flesh"
might offended people... or... the opposite...
for the opposite ***...

as much as i can be a responsible person
i also know how to be a *******...
reckless... chaotic...
    i tried an experiment today...

can fury / anger cool you down?

like i always said: people don't **** me off...
things do...
that said: do some people qualify as
being tools? sure...
and i hate faulty tools...

so i was vacuuming today... because i felt
*****... and hot... and sweaty and
"teenage girl" -esque "confused":
whatever the hell that means...
for the past three days i wake up
on the floor without my pajamas...
naked: glued to the wooden floor...

gasping for air...
      ******* July! ******* atmospheric high
pressure... go! go! go! go back to Sahara or
wherever you came from...
SNOW... ICE... DARKNESS!
    
       雪 (ユキ)... コーリ... クラヤミ

(yuki... koori... kurayami)

this vacuum cleaner is ****...
first of all... the person who designed should
have just been an employee for Mr Dyson...
seriously... the cable is too short...
i have to switch from about three different
power-source outlets...
   and those hairs on what's supposed
to collect dust? too short too...
   i've been vacuuming the staircase twice...
once fast... then slow...
  
i ended up testing my idea...
can anger cool you?
can fury cool you?
                   well... first i had to wet my beard
and comb it... then i had to wet my hair
and comb it... then i asked myself:
if i get really *******
about... "a hammer you can't hammer nails
in with"... i.e. a vacuum cleaner
i can't clean with? yeah...

                like an orthodox Jew
head-banging before the Wailing Wall...
which... honestly... if those guys were kneeling...
i'd imagine a massive Ha-Shem *****
just there... imitation blow-job...
or rather: repenting for the ancestors
to mutilate them...

monotheistic lunacy...
   same in Christianity... kneeling... kneeling...
******* procrastinating...
or the **** position of the Islamic rites...
geared up, gents, for some extra-curriculum
action?!
it's one thing to be told that you came
from an ancestry of hunchbacks...
i.e. apes... and another to insult
those origins with these silly antics...

                          oh... but i do believe in a deity...
but it's all in my head...
it doesn't require Churches, statues...
sanctities and heresies or anathemas...
that's the best way: at least for me...
it's all in my head...
     and the world can be as beautiful as it already
is...

people don't **** me off... things do...
sadly some people mingle with the category of thing...
there's this guy at work...
a sad soul... deformed in a way that doesn't
appear deformed... but he has a physiognomy
that would tell you: *******...
******? not really... too weak...
   everyone at work hates him...
     well... wouldn't you if you heard:
i've been a steward for 12 years...
                        he tries to boss people around...
me? i only started last December on a whim
and i've already become a supervisor
blah blah X no. of times...
                    
it's lovely seeing society function on its original
intent of meritocracy...
right... but this guy is despised...
me? i'm... curious...
   he has terrible conversation cues too...
he tries to crack a joke or says something
and non-responsive... i was?! i wasn't?!
i don't even know anymore...
      i didn't say anything... i'm pretty sure...
and he's like: yeah, ha ha... you never say
anything to me...

weird as **** when he starts calling me
by my Finnish equivalent: Matti...
               only my father gets to call me Mateo...
thank god he didn't venture south...

i actually prefer Martin... the guy with cerebral
palsy... the one that looks jittery when standing
still... or drunk... but at least i can look into
his eyes and think:
                         oh... this world is a *****...
but i promise i won't make it harder for you...

back to the other guy... everyone at work hates
me... but... when i was supervising him?
oh man... WHAT A JINN!
perfect! i had to argue with some guys without
wristbands trying to get a pitch-side view
of the concert: clearly they bought paid-seat tickets...

i gave up... arguing / being persuaded...
blah blah this blah blah that...
i turned around and crossed my hands...
but they just kept on nagging...
    then my whittle fwend came along and worked
his magic...
it didn't take much...
just his physiognomy...
             his body language...
                              his actual use of language...
   the seriousness he applied to the profession:
yeah... "profession" in my eyes...
crowd-safety is a joke...
                     i take it seriously in terms of:
looking out for terrorists...
but compared to roofing or anything DIY related
it's a farce...

   soldiers at Buckingham Palace might also
realise that they don't have a job...
they just have a uniform
smoke and mirrors...

everyone at "work" hates him but i found
most useful... when you can't win
an "argument": just allow the most "disgusting"
person to do the work for you...

i mean: for ****'s sake... how can you win
an argument if people find you endearing,
hug you, kiss you, take selfies with you...
it's impossible... throw in a "Quasimodo"
into the mix and watch them turn their attitude...

it's called: effectively utilizing a person's
otherwise considered disadvantages to your
advantage... that's what's called:
nature abhors a vacuum...

                 i'm going to write this... drink some more
and then cycle... hopefully concentrating on
any of my possible recklessness...
hopefully not falling head first
across my bicycle's handlebars while
trying to avoid a ***-hole...

mindful: of a copper-neck...
that's the only good thing about summer...
getting a suntan...
that's it... i like looking like a lychee flesh
dipped in sunflower oil...
or that darker oil: peanut?
            
it's almost like the recurrent joke about
**** Germany... the supposed "Aryans"
waged a war against actual Aryan
inheritors... given the geographic history...
an Iranian tribe known as the Sarmatians
settled in the region otherwise
known as parts of Poland...

                            ah... sigh... i don't want
to laugh: you can't "win" something
by falsifying "said"... "truth"...
                           i guess i'm prone to a "symptom"
of... sleeper-genes...
they're waking up... it doesn't matter
whether i like it or not... it's happening: the end...

my mind has become a cauldron of events
that happened and should be forgotten
and a forgetting that should have happened...
and it has: with the immediacy of me
scratching my head... figuring out some
metaphysical arithmetic:

i don't do language formalities...
i don't do pre-scripts...
i abhor Thespians...
  as much as the ancient world abhorred
poets... clue: in Ovid...
poetry is a waste of time blah...
modern times have yet to appreciate
despising Thespians...
shadow-thieves...
                                        doppelgängers...

death's only until one's unsuspecting
tomorrow...
that said: i have a corrosive animosity
for maxim spewing: maxim regurgitating...

at least proverbs are ciphers...
maxims seem like deciphers...
lost proof on their certainty was always
going to be established by anyone
who read any other genre of literature...

- because as a ******... i abhor being regarded
as the pauper of Europe...
sure... i write in English: because it's more
convenient...
i write in the most economic language
available known to man...
    do i think that America, the FSA:
federal states of America would be more stable
if they employed an indoctrination
into resembling a rigid bilingual nation
not governed by WASPS
        (white, anglo-saxon protestants)?

Switzerland?! massive failure...
isolationist from day 1... whenever day 1 was...
and they're accustomed to...
everyday people speaking...
3 languages?!
    **** me... perhaps we'd be better off
knowing at least two... the minimum...
but then... n'ah... pointless...
the "modern miracle of literacy"
sort of backfired...

                and if not backfired then didn't
give the desired results...
the guilt of manual labour...
          forget GAY PRIDE...
back in the satellite state of the Soviet
Union that was Poland...
there was a LABOUR PRIDE DAY...
yeah: physical labour was celebrated...
appreciated...
              what, the, ****, has, your, ****,
orientation, to, do, with, whether,
you, get, a, taxi, on, time?!
                    
                                  work used to be celebrated!
not sexuality... and that's Dodo-sexuality, no?
unless you elevate prostitution
to surrogacy, no?
            well then... you have your little revolution:
i'm going to have mine...
  i don't mind slurping on the many-used
oysters' worth of ****... mind you:
they taste better...
              nope... i was listening... i listened
long enough...
                i'm tired...
                no wonder the Slavic world imploded
with Ukraine as the sacrificial lamb...
the Czechs were a priori Germanic in their
liberalism... libertarianism...

they can *******: PAKICOCKPAKICOCKPAKICOCK!

****'s sake: THINGS: HAPPEN...
you can't just cower from things happening...
might as well throw in your own
narrative... poetry shouldn't exist in
safety... poetry should exist in jeopardy...
in being branded X Y & Z...
               poetry should tease at
the egoism of Marquis de Sade...
                            it should be all about cycling while
drunk...
         because life's what? you borrowed?
you're in debt?
     or is it the inverted:
you wanted me here...
          i'm here... and this is what i am...
or rather: this is what you taught me
to become!

                          mein gott... this is sort of looking
like a self-help guru manifesto...
i'm ashamed... but then also very much
drunk and dehydrated at the same time
and i truly want this heatwave to ******* from
England...

                   i will never give up my testosternone
for my: abhorrent antic
of cycling while tipsy...
i need a coupling of testosterone + adrenaline...
i need to be crazy-stupid...
                like all the prostitutes said;
you're good-crazy..
i know i am... i'm fully invested.
Mateuš Conrad May 2024
this is not a shared experience,
this is why i don't write: or if i write i do out
of spare details in some variation
of leaving opening the gates of ditto
                        like so:    

                                           (thus).

australian visa assessment registration,
fee: i only learned of there being a fee
after i scrolled past each month
from the year 2024 back to 1986
to find may 15th in may

                    some "miraculous" date obscurity
like there is a need to celebrate
with song akin to Aud Lang Syne:
but there isn't cause for celebration

a very quiet formal affair of champagne
black forest gateau
                         roasted chicken and tatties
with some coleslaw to my astonished
improvement
not just mayonnaise but apple cider vinegar
to give the cabbage and onion
and carrot the added semi-pickled crunch
and some mustard and some mary-rose
sauce and some parsley
then before coffee was served
a shot of Polish bimber (moonshine)...
a sobering slob of a tongue slithering into
the shot glass before the guillotine
of knocking it back...

girlfriend future wife on Kauai (Ka Wa E)
woke me in the morning
finishing a shift in a restaurant cleaning
pots and pans: clamor of stainless clutter
a happy birthday song
i haven't heard since i was still a child...

sto lat sto lat niech yje nam niech

וה     (almost forgot that i still had the vah
stashed on my dashboard...)
to remedy the 'yje - from the clutches of RZ..

i.e. learning new words from Cambridge:
is used as an allographic variant of the letter Ż:
Ƶ is a handwritten form of the letter Xi (ξ

zeugma
allophone
allographic
polysemy

ʒ or subscript 3
partial beta-clause...

                         of Iraq and the ziggurats...
disappoints...
whatever your choices
there will always be pockets of
unabashed chaotic memory revelations
not caused by the calamity of
spontaneity
but life pushes on and through
to no greater measure of the worth
of living beyond the one already
testified with: as
the lived - to my amusement how living
is coupled to experiencing:

that there is talk of a lived-experience
like experience is a word less
harsh than existence:
out of every instance
the incapacity to hold a thought-narrative
that could be summoned intact
an intact-self the self-intact-ness

    -less is also a quality that can be
best summarized via
scrambled eggs without the yolk...
pale scrutiny of fats missing...

of Yemen and their zhoug...
like a variation on the Argentinian
chimichurri...
   because i believe that's where
said origins of the paste-blob that could
be used to spice up dull paintings
2nd best utilized prospectus...

or stay in one place like Gloucester Harbor
and count seagulls like
Charles Olson
                or perhaps like Kant
count footsteps toward the further away
point of mind the anchor
and thoughts the seas
sacrifices of adventure no further
than the vicinity of Königsberg at a 10 mile
stretch...

to now think from humble origins
to the deafening boom-echo vibration
of London under the arch of Wembley
to suppose i need to step a foot outside
the reality of sea and bring
the sky to the sunrise
and venture toward Polynesia

this Palagi...
Haole...                    at least in the category
of: us "vs" them or rather
                            us v                non-

leben sie wohl!
                   leben sie wohl!

ah: a day's interlude...
a working pattern...
start writing in the morning and afternoon
micro dosage of Putin Marijuana
i don't think i drank...
?
no... i didn't drink...
i micro dosed

on marijuana juan's mary...

            then got on with life
put on white shirts on in the PRALKA
like PRAVDA
PRALKA a word which i will allude to in a triangle...
i.e.

1st person
2nd person
3rd person

grammatically:

                                Matthew (2nd person,
                                      NOUN)





        ­      I                                                    He
(1st person,                                        (3rd person,
PRENOUN)                                             PRONOUN)

why do children from syllables
in Asia and continue
our ontological genesis is syllable bound
we only later much
later discover atoms and letters
#MAMA

MA MA
not Om and twice on the rhythm struck
boom boom boom
heartbeats of the cities of Glob Hades
we only come to letters after making
sounds in imitation and gratifying
other life...

GA GA of the tooth of mama
                        what are pre-nouns?
before man learns names of things:
rivers, objects...

there is no defining subjectivity of the hypothalmus
hippo experience:
existence out of every instance
of those reciprocating life
with due pardon: death is wait
death is wasted space
not time per se...
death is less time invoked as a waste of space
invigorated....

Martin aside: HE was a waste of space
even intellectually...
perhaps i don 't have a day job
but i have a dream world job
of writing for free to the attention of:

sobering note: ever watch 66 thousand people
walk past you so slow
like they did
at DC3 cordon on Olympic way
only one bazooka of cordon ON
with the megaphone ALARM
i can say alert with an accent to give
elert the -sch- it so ******* fatherly
desires... to originate myself in old germanic
working father germany
liberal daughter england
old saxony...

pre-noun is closest I
I who from giggles and laughter
and computer: say NO
NO
reading ****** expressions
knowing boa constricted ******
tension from good ***
and *** implosive
rather than *** explosive
i'd like to see a ***-implosive society
without annex:
nunnery in the bay area
of how internet is used:
a shop, an encyclopedia...

     dating app? shopping app?
pornographic adverts?
******* is like advertisement
in the real world...
people hyper focus off of one
like 0.5 of a person... anchor or bridge?
forgot whether this ship got stuck
in the middle of the river
and turned N/S
from its usual course of E/W
i.e. from east to west
but aeroplanes travel across the tropics
of Cancer: Edie
Capricorn: Promis...

the latter's words ring so true now:
don't try to save these women...
Linda is mother's reflexologist
Lydia is Edie's mum...
and Reyla is the "5th wheel apiece"...

i can finish this right now or waste my efforts
to "refill":
no... until the elbows hurt and the idea
of poetry becoming only cascade
prosaic:
rather if rambling poetry is like a newspaper
is like an escape from books
from prose tight sell-by-date-spacing...
poems don't sell
but books sell
and they sell not by a xthought
of +++digressions...

                            poems like easily discarded
paintings but better... trapped in time in memory
of individuals of individuals
off of individuals
off individuals
collective events like me returning
from Hawaii on the 7th October 2023
and a hell that came with me:

not as a direct result
but then again walk into a protest
march
and scribble any semitic letter on a flag
and chant your chants
and what do you expect...

but poetry can be more than an outlet of
confections and conditions
like some safe-space what with
Dante and Byron?!
is poetry something easily made to print
and not made to indent
on the tectonic plates of mind
this Earth Baron Vishily
and his Salt Mines of Power Bland...
some idea for a former book of science fact
look how the immediate explosion
of man's compa...

/kɒmpɑːtmɛnt(ə)lʌɪˈzeɪʃ(ə)n/

    (i had to look that spelling up...
does one word make me dtslexic? qwerty dyslexi
typo?                           ?)

the explosion of science came with the humanistic
explosion of science fiction...

second, soft scientific revolution
there was an industrial revolution

ergo the obvious for the common man...
but there was a scientific revolution
therefore there has been a
hard scientific revolution
with the chemistry and the physics...

now the soft scientific revolution
with the AI the engineering
and the psy-ops
soft machines and make-ups
and downers big big downers
of the ***** brigade
disillusioned somehow what?
somewhat, yes...

conversation with a DJ at a street party...
soft science that's all
counter productive ontological
first becomes a beginning
and outcomes a hierarchy of endings...
films like ghosts on inflamed vinyl
fireplace marshmallows
and burnt stars of Anise...
           that sweet hash of Morocco i am somewhat
new to you...
Europe is a museum
let us forget
all robots and stubborn farmers left:
new hygiene of ego like spider in a web
of truths and untruths
openly saying: what do you want?
unfair, what is: i thought life was rather generous:
the argument from nothing or off of nothing
god said and why not give humanity
all that i am
in all that's good and horrid and a torrent
of unabashed but never i usher my word
from the: but i needed man for my bureucracy:
byoo-row-ah-cra-c
                                sea­: see Baltic Sea...

/bjʊˈrɒkrəsi/

                       second dyslexic example...
life's complicated and sleep is heavy
with a cat nearby and
i am abusing whiskey and ****
and putting it to good use
imagining myself the street DJ
on the cordon at DC3 that Netflix doc
about bastion Wembley being town apart...

and this is life
my Neckari... a word from the dimension of
the prenoun...
MA                       AM GA
         AT TA          

                      much later much later the noun:

Matthew... could you?
who is Matthew?
this is Matthew?
oh and much much later there comes the narrator
I and then he should he wish realise
the 1st and 2nd and 3rd and his nth
terminology seek guidance when
trying to seek the world...

          I comes from nowhere rather than nothing...
not a rigid concept to be honest
enough scalpels in the air as it is...
"i am" Matthew to then abstract Matthew
as the countless number of them
and discriminate with there being only
one River Thames
but at least twice as many Londons...
regardless...
"i am" Matthew - m other said father said MATEO...

later much later when all the other nouns
started to sink in and become
vocabulary antics of:
            then once Matthew knew the air
the sky the moon the sun
the chair...
the cat...
          only when Matthew became Matthias bar Adam
did Matthew finally understand
a way to say: Matthews...

   i am "matthew"...
                                  only then and only thus...
then and only from then and there:
the idea of pronouns...
and trans-genderism and this "philosophy" of Silicon
coming from the guards at the Iron Curtain...
i've been woken up by tremors in
the Silicon Curtain and all that soft
talk technology like bio-tech is not the most
maneable...  ▽ ◼◼◼

                        maniable...

             what if one create a genre of AI
communication pretend Sauron?

a sample:

konrad eschlert
can you fathom a geo-political transition from the Iron Curtain to the Silicon Curtain give the Silicon Valley social media tech billionaires wanting to be part of the conversation, soft trans-humanism etc... i am drunk and writing a poem and this will be a sample in my creative endeavor

chatgpt
certainly, i can help explore that concept for your poem. here's a draft idea for your creative writing.

from the iron curtain to the Silicon
Veil,m a shift from cold steel to the soft
glow of screens, where once the shadows
loomed in brick and rail,
now algorithms whisper in digital
dreams.

Silicon Valley's titans rise, enshroud,
their networks weave a tapestry unseen,
in data's grip, the silent masses crowd,
new borders drawn in binary sheen.

trans-human whispers hum through
the wire, augmented selves in clouds,
begin to form, the billionaires,
like gods, our new desires, their coded
realms the eye of every storm.

yet, echoes of the iron curtain's past,
remind us of the cost of hidden walls,
in this brave new world, where shadows cast,
beware the veil where freedom slowly falls..


but there are AI limitations
on say: invoke smart phone Morse
or E. E. *******'s punctuation for
ol' 'am of D'A'S...
      lazily not hyphenated...

hats, rabbits and who was sitting in the rights
place...
   no subjective experience of...

TRANSRIPT

THE FRONTAL LOBE is for personality and emotions, higher thinking skills, like problem solving; and controlling movement. It continues to develop until you are in your mid 20s.
THE TEMPORAL LOBE helps process your hearing and other senses, and helps with language and reading.
THE PARIETAL LOBE is involved with your senses, attention, and language.
THE OCCIPITAL LOBE helps your eyes see, including recognition of shapes and colors.

which part of Martin is ****** up?

so much of what's the subjectivity of the brain
is simply a QUARTER of
what the reality of the brain is
name the eyes
and tongue
and skin and movement and so much of the brain
is something
quiet an experience unlike
a heart-attack
like a shaman drug trip sort of exhausting others
in how he can perceive himself
having an early retirmenet
in a care home freed from life's constraints
that might have been a kamikaze mission
if i were to conjure up a bonanza of quests of Q?

a poem a day keeps the psychiatrists away
but sure as **** invites a god
a word that's a god personality / medium
a devil
a cat several angels
and dead people and hmm hmm hmms
and botanical king the curious green
itch from brown below
to sieve through roots
and find enough sand to create a bridge
toward the kingdom of the snorkeling
apes from white Odysseus pale pale pale
by comparison
this kingdom from the sea not associated
with a north i'd sooner find upon waking
north to my left
and east ahead of me and
west behind me every time i travel into London...
much easier at the Firth of Forth
in Edinburgh
but so too there there was youth...
not the clamor of age and sensibility...

how to date this... hmm: perhaps with age:
38 on the 16th May 2024.
Mateuš Conrad May 2024
what's in a name what's in a name
in the end
within a name there is no name
but a pre-noun and a pronoun
and          that glorious word THING
and boomerang not a boomerang
of I to It
           to I as It           and It a non-It
a spoke
              the spokes in a wheel...
a wheel is an Ezekiel
                     is my first learning of the name:
little Yash                 and jesz? i.e.
are you eating?    my words my silences
my atonement for say:
the miraculous spring afternoon
finding myself enjoying the act of reading:
regardless of what i'm reading:
or rather i am actually reading Frank Herbert's
Dune but i should be reading
al-Masudi's the meadows of gold
and currently that's a first edition
on amazon going for
£47.99
            so until i get a wife and a surrogate
daughter i can and will splash out
on books in the purchasing window
of £30 to £50 and since i'm not rich
enough of rich-autistic enough
or autistic enough
to be splashing on paintings
like that story of the founder of Barbie
no not Ruth Handler
before pornographic magazines
the Swiss invented the Susie Susan Sour-****
to gag men into
the predicaments they found themselves
in as world war ii bomber pilots
then came the infamous poster reel
from Shawshank Redemption and
boys those girls those flinging-mig-magic jazz
of ****
those lonely nights
and days
but mostly the nights
and on my 38th birthday i masturbated
like 3 times
because a day prior i was talking
to a friend outside of the Spurs' Coliseum
and we talked about being 38 and 72
and cancer of the prostate and how he got
it removed and now can't get an *******

i would have killed to venture into
the ear to eye osmosis
of being at the
Boris Brejcha at Arènes de Nîmes...
artist to artist
this is not me Matthew Arnold
a limp **** poet
crying to bed after seeing Liszt play
because music has changed
and there's no genius of music
but a genius of music-inclusion therapy...
"therapy" / therapy?

Friday came a little late: now that i'm imagining things,
writing on a chrome book
in my own room i remember days
when i used to drink a liter of whiskey
and write from 10pm to 5am
having given up smoking marijuana
at the age of 21 weighing in at 65kg
after an experience
with: what i'm guessing...
not Jesus and not Yashwa...
but rather: and i only learned of his name today:

dualism of monotheism: the little yahweh...
                       A

           E          Y         I                   𐤃

                                                   ∇
                  O       U

yad dah...
           YDDH...

                     turbulent lessons in how the consonants
are props and vowels drift in and out
to allow for Semites to transliterate nouns
Semites need to transliterate nouns
which cannot be said
of Matthew of Mateusz of Mateo
but Matthias says it's possible...

the angel: Metatron...

                        i'm seeing Mega:
like the movie Tron (updated like Dune updated)
and the soundtrack and something megalomaniac...
like the affairs of non-existence
of supposing within
pre-noun pronoun
preposition and proposition
are so why can't a pre-noun
exist before i learn the names of things
before i inject conjunctions and adverbs
big and small
i usher in a chemical laboratory of
Ar Na Cl He Fe
no Ar...

natrium chlorum
    helium            ois

                 ferrum...

terra ferrum: iron earth
                              in akimbo venturing for
broken bones and fixation on bones
206 of these...
and i overheard that Muhammad Ahmed
knew the exact number of bones
in the human body (does that include the teeth?)
32 teeth...
   that's 9 vowels and 23 consonants
in the Polish alphabet...
bad tooth England only has 26 letters
and boast all it can about Latin VQ
it does not have...

oh not bones then joints
i heard about the number 350 being cited...
although i sometimes wonder
about O and little o
of degrees and that's really thinking about
the 0 and to the power of
infinity is infinity oscillating in
a duality: even and especially if it's
a monotheism:
why then o why i wonder
at the predicament of Islam
because it is not out simple migration
but the excesses of Dubai must
be hitting the average muslim hard
if they be wanting to move with us
European paupers, no?
us drunken savages we are savages
and we returned to our pagan ways
just as i might have predicted why
Poland defended the pagan power
of Lithuania and why Christianity
never really spread to certain parts of Europe
but was kept in check by some
Russian Greek or Varangian...

i saw it in his eyes when his father
head-butted one of this soldiers
i'd bet i will put a bet on, everything i have...
on Usyk beating Fury...
the odds?

Fury 5/6 ahead of Usyk at 11/10
strange numbers...
i saw Bohun in his eyes
the cossack romantic figure in Sienkiewicz'
with Fire and with Sword...
yes saw it and this is the only sport
i'd bet on with a heart of a gamble
beyond the £1.00 threshold
unlike Bukowski betting on horses
i did similar antics
betting on scores in football...
but nothing major always stingy no greater
thrill than earning money
and saving money
and then spending it on kayaks or canoes
or books or compact disks or
£12 summer dresses and what not
however the trend is these days
last time i tried tapping into anything
relevant on the internet
but same old:

men, bears and £12 summer dresses
that are like the rule
pulled up in the forest on the sly
with no suspenders or tights
just the suntanned skin with no wintry
attaches of still ***** still
playing chess still not playing
backgammon still no chess
unless with a kid
and i loved how i saw the engineering
of AI in chess games
and how the kid was losing and
just because she's a girl doesn't mean
i'll let her win
or that i'd let her win no because
i didn't but i don 't mean playing
chess with a ****** partner
or watching t.v. with her
because no unless there might be physical
dimensions askew like how could
we possibly do it, physically speaking
i mean how could we when we couldn't
and that would be her licking
the eyepop pop-sickle sickly sweet
no teeth grandma ***
or me and her already wrinkled *****
slurping oysters
Bang Dan... Bang Dan... sounds Vietnamese...

why would: ah: authenticity...
38 outside the range
but in the range 21 - 35 have to complete
3 months of agricultural labour
to qualify as citizen of Australia...
i think that's rather nice...
i only submitted the form on a whim
but i received no automated response...
instead a Jamie Chirpseer
got in touch: apparently they have been calling

now i don't know but
last time i "measured"
that's only an 8h50 flight from Auckland
to Hawaii
so i'm thinking why set my foot behind
a door with a mother in law
watching scoop me up Jesus
t.v. and being all paranoid about my status
as ******* on the closed enclosure
of Kauai
but i sure as **** threw a decent birthday
party by the pool
well shared but this is claustrophobic writing
i.e. claustrophilic my ego
says there is a cursor and pre-
to nouns so i'm cleared: cleared by I'II"
however many that is:
1 foot 11 inches last time i checked...
ego-**** that is: the little horn on my head
that turned into a hovering 360 degree eye spin...

seeing those last words written days
ago, happily discarded
now upon return with a pop-sensibility of aging
no new music but there are some unavoidable
stresses in neu alles neu: billy and eddy's
Lunch not naked Lunch not naked
all food in attire:
me sitting in a tuxedo and sneakers
with a baker boy's cap: some unifying piece of attire
whether you're at White Hart Lane
or whether at the Boleyn -
                  unifying attire like some distinction
between the Tribes of London gone out
of the window with the babies in a circus of bathtubs
falling from the sky
because raining cats and frogs
had all the dogs drinking from puddles of beer
morphing into hyenas - crying over Benson Boone
singing all god is jesus
and no god of a muhammad
there is no transliteration of tongues and words on
tongues and words not on tongues
but abstracted thought and missing in crosswords
because like a dyslexic being good with numbers
because is such a terrible word right
now...
but good in manners of speech: or is that speach
like i want to bite into a peachy apple
                         like crossbreeding happens and you
could craft champagne from thin air
breed a german shepherd and a spaniel
or what was used to breed a dachshund
from a dobermann...

   the Q and the Mark i.e.

                     Mark              +                Q(uelle)

                    ­                        =

                      Matt            ­   &              Luke

i came across people interested in religion and
the mammoth goliath that is Christianity
of conversation
and a revamp from the year 1945 from Egypt
the Nag Hammadi library -
and all that invoked by the Church Mothers
maybe another Frank Zappa moment if i could
sing but instead i found my voice
my voice in giving SIA a briefing after having
worked with stewards on a bag cordon
at Wembley...

now how to find respite, next day the cycle
still not fixed so house bound
at least able to wash the bedsheets
and hang them in the garden of sunlight
to then dress the bed once more in all that air
and wool
like floating sheep and perhaps horses with
wings
and perhaps apes to
and perhaps men with four arms and no more
than two feet
and perhaps wheels and fire and the internet
and printing and copying
and all that towers and gardens from Tokyo
to Baghdad -
                               cascade of the human experience
ethics is apparently objective
well i could have sown the swearing ogre oath
i loath in **** me **** me oh **** me
jurisprudence is subjectivity par excellence...
so rarely do you have judgement by the peers
by the jury: jurisprudence -
instead English law and the barrister
and judge and triangles of politics -
i hardly speak in the court of law -
perhaps fellow human will allow
me to think before god:
perhaps i can think before god
if i can't speak in the court of law if i can't speak
in the court of man then perhaps
i will be able to think in the court of god:
at least there's hope with me writing this down...

yes, i put a weird bet on two nights ago...
Tyson Fury vs. Olek Usyk...
bets on, whatever the algebra of gambling
5/6 and 11/10 as a decimal:

      0.8333                  and 1.1111

ニ: 0.747747748
      ホ: 0.9213

if i were to see mathematics with letters,
notably division by the first number
and multiplication by the second numbers
(Ni                   **)

but at least no muddle with too many numbers
like too many notes in Mozart's
'seph II  Holy Roman Emperor (1765-1790)

    ヨーヨー                 (yoo yoo toy boy not
yo! or yo-yo                but no ideogram?

let me rummage...)

                         bandalore... idea: image at least
some     :)                  or some :'(

      maybe get a hummingbird tattoo on my neck
in devotion to the Aztex i.e.  Huītzilōpōchtli

pero āmo tēchentenderoa lo que tlen
tictoah en Nahautl                                 TLEN:
oxi         oz                       oxygen-c-c

                           TKANKA: tis            tss tis tss
Sue: Ssue...                   SS: Ś
                    i.e. tissue:
                                                       /ˈtɪʃ.uː/ /ˈtɪs.juː/

maybe a truly phonetic poem
or a truly transliterated biblical text
a snippet only a snippet because i have enough
of a day to live to spend another hour
or so in akimbo or on my knees
before the writing desk that's my bed
no no: but a short equip-me "poem"
a quirk like a sneeze to base my focus on tissue
and SS i.e. Ś
and other instances i could possibly see it in
in the English tongue...

all of a sudden working with Pakistanis, Bangladeshis
and the Sudanese is or can ever be
about a white English boy with some
post-colonial stresses and ancestry questions
about why the former Commonwealth
Empire imploded and no wonder
given the Civil War in Sudan
why then complain about the English i wonder
but i don't have that problem
given no one can really look sensibly accusing
the Polacks of imperialism and colonialism
base mention of Mongols and the Ukranians
while the Lithuanians dwarfed under Russian Stalinism
and what remnants of German blood
fused during the northern crusades
to give birth to a German fusions of
Estonians, Prussians, Latvians and the Fins
at least we know that the Prussian pagans steered
the gentle happy german soul
for some time or so the romanticism goes...

                  this is still writing under the influence
of Billie Eilish's LUNCH on repeat:
the glad days of my 20s spent never speed dating
not really singing sad songs of psychopathic love triangles
and later sycophantic bare minimum poetry
yuck cringe and are we of the first people
to be given a literacy adventure in proficiency?
so my little historical debrief:
well... it's all funny how i too came on a banana boat
with the rest of them
that astounding reflection of a Pakistani from Luton
born and bred with mosque like a seashell brought
along in the night of the crimson moon
the LESBIAN flag of ISLAM
i.e. the marriage of the girl moon and Venus...
because isn't that "star" with the crescent not Venus
unless that's Venus with a scimitar
and who was the woman of the origins of Islam
running between two hill tops with her son
looking for water?
Hajarah and concubine of Ibrahim?

              at the diner with Ismail having no dinner
but food for thought
in some absent heaven and in some absent hell
but rather in a limbo of grey objects
and a blistering itch of sunshine that
turns a hyperbolic white skin of the north
a golden serpent glee
and invokes spying for the Greeks or ancient
Romans in Lebanon
with: mind you: with all those Pale Orthodox Jews
might just fit in...
but wait: i digress... i've been looking for an ideogram
for a yo-yo... wasn't i?
a yahoo too: a yo-yo playing with a yahoo
when there was whey and rye and lasso and spey
and whatever way was in the where...

          ilocano: aj aj: moje kolano

         (exercise in pain onomatopoeia
         and possessive article: moje / mine
         noun: kolano / knee)

oh yes... and a rubric of the bets i made on the Tyson
Usyk match-up... tailors to the glove
a dash of Polansky on the ring...
left right tango with tango of men
so rough **** so not like ******* a woman
so unlike...

thus:

    no yo-yo: but axle:                        軸
my guess is as good as anyone's
with however many confines of
//     \ |               |||          /|/|/      \|\|\

to quiz up a T                 or an L
let alone an O because so rigid have to swim
to Yippon for the proper edible tongue

now to reveal the Gambler and how i will never be
able to write yet admire
a Hemingway and a Bukowski...

Usyk by technical decision (100/1)
stake... £0.10
Fury by technical decision (100/1)
stake £0.10
Usyk by disqualified opponent (100/1)
stake £0.10
Fury by disqualified opponent (100/1)
stake £0.10
Usyk by decision of technical decision (2/1)
stake £5.00
net return £10.00
Usyk by KO, TKO or DQ (5/1)
stake £5.00
return £0.00

any anyone who might read the newspapers
would tell you
the decision was crystal clear, scientific,
on the margins, within talk of inches and decimals
and... ooh... itchy...
115-112, 114-113 to Usyk
and 114-113 to Fury...

rematch? what is now to be disputed is by winning
through that bet i made: 5/1
or rather 5:1 but ratios would be any less if
using a colon?
                               enough bark to patch up a
cagey sneer and then return to kiss daylights: out
because now somewhat disputable
in the arena or the courtroom
better judgement watching sport
than those daytime zombie land drug-shows
of the courtroom melodrama soaps
and operatic demand for feeding the collective
consciousness split seconds per day
accumulating into binge potato peeling of skin
and intellect on the sofa...
even now: hardly a waste of good coffee
   and tobacco...                with the added "spice"
of BIMBER... beam-bear to spread out the letters
and transliterate: not to imply anything beside
the phonetic arrangement
of the letters as beam-bear: it's still the meaning
behind BIMBER the sweet 45% *****...

(q)uelle: yet there is hardly a similar problem
associated with Socrates...
given the accounts by Plato
Xenophon oh and let's not forget Aristophanes...
especially him
because he was hardly all luvvy-dabbling in
writing works of just fiction...
satire of the lowest man in the village as it were...
well:

who wouldn't have said:

     pleasure is not only unnecessary,
     but a positive evil

i too have had the pleasurable burden and agony
of being able to cite
maybe saying maybe not saying
either way experiencing:
i'd rather be mad than feel pleasure -
further still what of pleasure and happiness
as distinctly opposite or not:
re-imagines (i)
                         the recently digested divulging
on meanings
constricted to words like guilt
and shame...                   thus too:
happiness and guilt                           pleasure and shame.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2024
to borrow from a title: tittilating as it might to snigger and gobble up laughter in that sense gluttony-parody... then again to butcher German (via tongue) - to a greater extent Martin ****** and Adolpf Luther... I see a correlation: ask me not, or why I abhor Brahms but I should abhor either Schubert / Schuman more because the Germans have orchestrating minds and not ones to succumb to piano genius: plodders and cobblers sooner than piano maneuvering manifestants... deshalb... eisen in der seele (iron in the soul): alter: rost im blut (rust in the blood).... perhaps... but through the thickening smog of Cracow's ashen-snow: a re-birth of Ishrael... Nil Ven- live in Cardiff.. Cwydyff... Rossini... Stabat Mater: the counter reformation... the spirit of music for the ill Germanic soul... and like the genius of Luther and ******... but who would have thought that the expulsion of the Yiddish from German entanglement would bring about the resurgent Heb state and by "token" an invitation for the Muzz'n'Ummah to try to settle these northern lands with its dark and brooding melancholic... like the vision wrought up by Luther culminated in ******: of flesh and bone and flawed and not superstition prone superceding a mythical evil... just a snot barrage on a moustache... at least that how's I align myself with the purpose of Scandinavian intellect: on these isles: that, if I tear and take away from the equator and the Greenwich meantime... if Iceland is part of Scandinavia... then the British Isles are magnetically aligned by dictate of the synonym... lines of geography that cut as if parallel: into reading of history... aligned sideways... mea: cusp: ein herz... a fledgling... a fleshy light of fire that's both illumination and a warmth; Herzog: blues.... adamante!

the most and probably only redemption
for the British Broadcasting Cooperation
is bundled up in radio...
not so much BBC RADIO 1 or 2...
more so 3 and 4...
                  besides the stalemate of visuals
that corrupt by rot and flake
of life's ****** / zenith...
redeeming, these sounds... very unlike
the television as primed for the analogy
of Plato's cave...
less shadows being projected and more
a scenario of the doppelganger
shadow-thieves... something of Islamic
and even Victorian superstition...
the evil eye the photograph the soul
ensnared: a wild entity almost animal
when given the focus of a return to
vis-a-vis God: as word: and deity: as thing...
but my point exactly is not an exacting
of anything...
I've been looking for an intellectual
reprieve from Herbert's Dune...
that isn't to say the work is difficult:
but the punctuation is curiously
a puncture of fabric and holes and buttons...
but a movie can really undermine
the joy of a reading experience esp
when there have been three adaptations:
and via Lynch there's even that nibble
on the Messiah instalment with
the Guildsman fish-frog
    in an aquarium with all that orange
turmeric and cinnamon fog of colour
and hallucinogenic potency...
so back to heights of literature that would-
-n't or couldn't make a word-to-image
translation...
Jon Fosse like some satanic figurine
                  dwarf macabre ****** leech...
but instead of a garden and an apple...
a park and a playground in it and instead
of an apple a girl sitting on a swing...
second time round: if ever...
that would be no apple and no tree...
but a ******* a swing and a boy pushing
her... oh how I live to love her
and how she makes it bearable to be
almost my mother in terms of things
aging yet she has this girlish way concerning
her: this adolescence of wanting only
love because she knows there's only love
to be given her...
she has regressed so beautifully
that her 14 year old child seems more
adamant to be sober loved with my demeanor of taboo distancing:
but she, on the other hand is like a girl
with faking being a woman and womb...
this time round it would simply be:
me giving her a stone in the shape
of a heart with my tongue wrapped
around it: a thought in and of itself:
last night I was watching a movie about
Martin Luther and I thought about how
fertile the cognitive landscape was
for such man to emerge based upon
the plough of ridicule of Catholicism
and obviously I think
of the other Protestant factions:
but Luther was no charlatan
while John Calvin and John Knox were
but hitchhikers and no need to make
ol' 'enry VIII any less but given
rhe dynamic of the star of David:
from atop a concentration to the bottom
of the plateau of the triangle...
                           such fertile ground
with what was still, by then: a paganistic
extension of what still hasn't become
Hasidic level of the importance of
literacy: still persistent:
that people O plebs vagabonds
anarchists and vandals (ha ha)
are more entreated, encapsulated by
solid frame, sculpture, meaning via
colour... painting... than the gifts of
word and number...
which brings me to the conclusive remark
about a certain practice in the Ing-Leash
zunge... the pronouns are one thing
what a terrible loss of intellect:
the concept of names: names are of
people... names... a tier above what
nouns are: a chair is a noun
a table is a noun...
a planet is a noun... but...
Jupiter... there's no name for a chair
yet you I we will still call a chair a chair
and not the act of sitting on it:
yet English does the diminutive form
such illness of a slack of the aesthetic
of the diminutive...
Mateusz becomes Matti Mateo
                                               Maciu...
       Teo....
                              what other name?
     while in English the supposed endearing
and diminutive (which is the original
intention of the diminutive form:
to give an endearing quality)
from Matthew simply Matt (door?)
a Christopher a Chris...
a Samuel a Samantha a Sam...
Peter the Pied Piper Pete...

— The End —