Remember all the Wise Men on their knees upon your yacht?
With orphans on their backs they’d crawled (with others that they’d brought)
Through rubble on the highway sands and residues of Lot.
They came from severed cities selling postcards of your thoughts,
Though offered for a penny piece, not even worth a jot.

They mused
               “How are you feeling? What it is you want, you’ve got.
               The words you scrawl on calling cards: ‘I AM – the others NOT’
               Shun wisdoms of the Seven Seas: ‘Salvation can’t be bought’ –
               Your fathers tried before you and your fathers came to naught.

               “You started out by gelding goats and then by casting lots
               Of bodies to the battlefields, contorted, tight and taut,
               Then wallowed in the wake of trails the dervish devil trots.

               “With marching bands of fatherlands, and drums of Hottentots,
               You lure your legions in harm’s way like giant juggernauts.
               Like Tweedle Dum your minions come (the sober and the sots,
               The troglodytes, barbarians, and mislead patriots,
               The Vandals, Huns and Hannibals and seaport Cypriots,
               The Japanese, the Congolese, Americans and Scots)
               To vanquish bows and arrows, spears and catapulted shots
               Of those who hide in bamboo huts their families, pale, distraught,
               (Their withered wives with dried up *******, their swollen babes in cots)
               Who swoon, engulfed in poison darts and vats of acid hot,
               Consumed by magic mushroom clouds, atomic megawatts.

               “In churches of your deities, your Holy Huguenots,
               Your Imams, Rabbis, Voodoo Dolls and Mitered Lancelots
               Lit wicked kindled candled walls in temples (while we fought)
               (Used pins and needles, magic spells on makeshift mock whatnots)
               And mosques, cathedrals, synagogues have blessed each new onslaught
               With prayers for pipers, puppets, pawns, your rigid armed robots.

               “Upon your knees in golden naves, while peeking through the slots,
               You horded thirty silver pieces, downed a whiskey shot,
               Then crossed yourself and wrapped yourself in furs of ocelots,
               And danced on cleated cloven hoofs in purple polka-dots,
               Then drank His blood from chalice cups with pious afterthoughts.

               “You’ve treated men like mongrels chained, like little flies to swat,
               By doing what you wanted to, instead of what you aught;
               You’ve wiped your nose with dollar bills and paid your serfs with snot,
               But when you’ve paused to preen your pride, you’ve scrubbed a scarlet blot.

               “In ashes of our victories: the diamonds that you sought,
               The crock of gold, the Golden fleece of bogus Argonauts -
               In mirrors of your lifelessness, the evils you begot.
              
               “The haunted winds strew leaves of time across a shallow plot
               Where now, beneath the frozen stones blanched bodies bathe in rot,
               Disintegrate, return to dust to feed Forget-Me-Nots
               Amidst the bane and pits of pain where broken bones lie caught.

               “In fields above the catacombs and tombs of Camelot
               The black and withered tree of Death arises from the spot
               Where oft beneath a bleeding moon you hid your gold in pots
               Embedding doubts neath barren bogs where roots of wormwood squat.

               “While waiting at the river Styx, in twisted time untaught,
               From branches of the gallows tree, in recollections wrought,
               Your soul, a beggar’s blanket, hangs in crazy quilted knots,
               With dangling pearls and diamond studs mid dripping crimson clots
               And gaping wounds with bulging eyes like fouling apricots,
               For wrapped in chains around your throat, the Reaper’s grim garrote.”

Yes, that’s the fate of all your kind, disclosed by Wise Men taught.

But that was, oh, so long ago, by now you have forgot…

When Youth’s roots stem with dreams:
Infinite, as the shimmer of the night sky’s stars
Blossoming into megawatts of galaxies,
Megawatts of dreams ,
Carried deftly through lightly perfumed Youth -
Let’s chase them while we can.                                                            

Yet while dreams are carried on this tickling free-willed pollen,
A tiny spore of such fragility,
Even the faintest of wrong winds could
Lose it! Lose it!
Winds of despair;
Of not daring;
Of incapability;
Winds of constriction will change her course!  
With their vicious blast                                                                              
The beauty of dreams fades into that dense air;
That dense air filled with broken dreams,
Losing their journey of being carried,
Being carried across new continents,
Where the glories of dreams roam.

Yet! All it takes is the fiery force of
Unfaltering passion
To plant your tree of life from dreams into reality,
To mould worlds of your visions -
Let’s chase them while we can.

Like the journalists who lived to chase the truth and
And the historians who lived to chase the past -
Let’s chase them while we can.

She came to me with open hands
And in them held the air
She came to me with fancy free
And absent of a care
She saw in me a mirrors depth
Both shallow and entire
She looked at me like megawatts
And set my eyes on fire
She brought along an early spring
The buds cracked in the frost
She brought demands and interest
She never met the cost
She stood the test if permanence
And slapped the face of time
She summoned the extremities
The wicked and sublime
She dropped me like a punch line
She counted what she'd cast
I removed her like a splinter
Erased her like the past

She came to me with open hands
And in them held the air
She came to me with fancy free
And absent of a care
She saw in me a mirrors depth
Both shallow and entire
She looked at me like megawatts
And set my eyes on fire
She brought along an early spring
The buds cracked in the frost
She brought demands and interest
She never met the cost
She stood the test if permanence
And slapped the face of time
She summoned the extremities
The wicked and sublime
She dropped me like a punch line
She counted what she'd cast
I removed her like a splinter
Erased her like the past

The bay of Patmos brightened in the scaphoid Trinitarians of the Colosso de Apsila, the combustion of the alma matter constituted Solomonic vademecum until the rebirth of those who preserve their sclera that accompanies their cruel torments in muscles of passion, for those who prostrate and recline on the pain that the soul itself asks to alleviate morbidities in the hay that grows when nothing rises before the tragedy of the pious fragments that divide the heart of a Sufi. Everything pretends that it is religious epilepsy bubbling vapor of faith through the mouths of the gods when illegible gestures of stars shine through from others that are greater in light and form when chaos was first, and the darkness became entangled in chaotic truthfulness of what converts the sacramental guarded by the angel Iblis. Judas Iscariot was a hybrid to dissent from Asmodeus, taking him from those fates of the firmament that had six apices, thus enrapturing him of the Siblis who had gone into exile in the caravans of Morocco, then falling from the despotic saying that shook the heads of the Achaemenids indicating anticipated conversions of unbelievers, when seeing that the six vertices of the first star of subjugation were declared, coming behind the second-star splint that was made up of other hexagons taking out ruinous cults that lay in the infertility of skepticism, not tolerating interpositions in any other way. Everything indicated that the light of the Shamesh of the Ruach Hakodesh in the roadstead of Patmos could already be asserted so that all the fires of the fertility of the Holy Spirit waving a loud voice that raises the worlds in the ablutions of the effluvium, with the emissions of Delphi, and with the lightning bolts of Zeus that would be encased in the scapulae of the Colosso de Apsila, silencing the delirium that only spoke out loud in those who did not know more than to hear in another sense, that avoids subsistence and where it grants more sap.

The Siblis says: “with my hands, I take what remains of life, and what will remain I will put under my comforts where everything will speak with withered corners of the lullaby, and of what the asylum of what it despises. Thus, everything that comes before the fourths happens to the fifths, and I subtract them from my hell, Iblis. The deities are withdrawn and the almighty is constrained further from the clouds that shelter the consciousness of the burning, and from the rays that exceed a thousand volts and more lights with large megawatts over the wings of the body that will experience growth, when it is a dream may he remain alive on the one who is at odds and is knocked down by his gesture of triumph that never annihilates, he only hangs on the body that is defeated "
The high tide was decomposing in degraded red blood cells, strangling bodies that were banned from their automaton skeletons, and from what was sacrosanct of Allah, which was also of the Mashiach, making a refuge that would make bones rest for more than thousands of years that did not rest. In the forging of a bronze frame, leaving every paradigm to the patronage of the amulet for anyone who suffers merciful debasement of the talus, beginning to flare up in the fords of capsular phototropism, leaving on them springs that cause and fill hearts that do not pulse, but if after an acquiescent nucleus of the rarest corporal alive or not! Praising what he writes by himself when for thousands of years everything has separated us instead of joining the immense room called Megaron Áullos Kósmos, eminent, free of all symptoms where impudent politai paraded through the flattened flowers that mix monstrosity of their cheers and the strings that surround him elliptical from the perihelion far and reviled and dangerous preventive. What exceeds the stature symbolizes the wrought iron that in a series of thousands becomes siege weapons instead of farming, and what the high sword invests leaves its merit when it discovers the weapon of punishment, cut off in deaths that are crossed when revived. from the same edge of the converted spirit of the one who wields it. The pairs of symbolisms protect almost depopulated those who have dwellings in paradise, with bent consciences that ****** Xiphos of conversion into staves of a mortuary color, which mutilates the mezzanines that are typical of a black cane exiting the human figure. The ruins produce architectural syncope that concerns the ineptitude of the castrated humanity of the Berith Milah, as a baptism of ancestry and circumcision slicing courses of arteries that fragment hemispheres of reason to found adherence to who really lives in you ..., if Hanael or another who has always been livid in you without becoming fatigued at the disposition of calling you a degraded son, materializing spiritually and becoming symptomatic of prevalent shocks by having them exulted by ancestral kindnesses.

The resentment caused planetary rumblings and extreme unfolding that sprouted from the exact diameter of its joints, leaving the grasses connected to neurosciences that slaughtered at dawn, and collected the expiation of what it is not capable of resisting in its faded sacrosanct body when all they were going through the drain of Judas Iscariot. Reflecting majolica and boches encrypted in themselves, withdrawing from the incense, from Hellenics who have never stopped beheading spheres that doze in the oasis where the water seeps through meadows that fill creek beds, apriorism of infusions that are injected where the meadow do not flee! Patmia was the silence of the tabernacle superior to the sizes that annul all composure in the cusp and in the spaciousness, and if it were to be seen like this, syllables would be limited that they uttered their only cheers that agonized at the side of their enemy, gracing them with the pain celebrated in courtship linguistics in its parallel.

Judas thinks: “In the next dawn everything seemed as if the world had just begun to be reborn, the whole world appears as the greatest satisfaction in the world. Some wondered what had happened or what it was that transformed everything when they observed from afar when an image came that pretended to be further away from the whole world, encompassing the realms of abstraction. They are the hearts that beat far away and they think that the strong reason is supported by the stratum by orpheons of angels, where the Master does not bother to teach us that great dreams are always accompanied by great beats "

albeit modest word zealot

Writing prompts burst asunder
snap, crackle, and sweet Mary poppin
within me scrambled noggin
witnessing yours truly to blunder
blindly along this dark and stormy night
deafening soundcloud roared
with apocalyptic thunder
'course only audible to yours truly,
I did dumbfoundedly bred wonder...

At some o'clock
tick tocking hours brisk
(quite chilly temperatures)
April seventeenth -Easter Sunday
two thousand twenty two
when Church law
obliges Roman Catholics
to receive Holy Communion
simultaneous blinding fiery kindling
quickening xing risk
within winkin blinkin and nod,
I feared full light of day brainstorm

snatched away courtesy invisible whisk
broom all those potential
ideas sprung while
Messiah by George Frideric
Handel's never out of style
within cerebral nooks and
crannies (think Ohiopyle),
whereby Youghiogheny River
bubbles, gurgles, fuels river mile

after mile harnesses and doth generate
approximately twelve Megawatts
of electricity per hour, to alleviate
domestic counting eight
thousand homes necessitate
distributed across western
and central Pennsylvania
nearly pristine land
where many local legends
never go out of style.

Bigfoot looms large here,
but other cryptids, or animals
also believed to inhabit the state.

Featured prominently include:
the gigantic Broad Top Snake,
the bizarre Dogman
of Westmoreland County,
and Bessie, Lake Erie’s resident monster.

Reports of giant attacking thunderbirds,
bloodsucking wolfmen, and mischievous,
mine-dwelling Tommyknockers
round out the list.

Analogous catching
courtesy goo goo dolls barenaked
ladies hands spawning
salmon slippery as an eel
(if curious don't take my word,
which might not appeal)
though yours truly
offers no guarantee,
you could easily fall

overboard as ye kneel,
which subsequently offers
live human meal
to hungry sharks, impossible mission
to escape no matter
how loud you squeal,
bouquets delphiniums and daisies
designate watery grave site
dissolving blood amidst the color teal.

Aforementioned depiction, whereby
former commander in chief
(er scoundrel forty fifth president)
admittedly no gent
till man nor scholar, and
he cavalierly lent
and nearly fin hushed nearly
(possibly already) rent
asunder high crimes and
misdemeanors, he casually spent.