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Set of cave genes If you could read... pluri freedoms of the dark light of ignorance teach understand that breathe under the Naturality Natural Nature is not necessary to have an understanding heart and store on their empty heads of knowing ancient rain where wisdom possess. If dance on every grain of chickpea for each foot plant what could a plant obey; foot, Plant, and Plantation...

Resulting in kingdoms on my animals, fungi, plants, and protists, media freedom as a seed to reach our evolutionary lack of ceased hopeness...

First  Ellipsis Angle loneliness"God felt Chained"

Chained down by dragging the last link of its multiple arcane freedom in which transfigured recent swings where he collapsed with the latter being of himself whose life lies lifeless alive but lost. The latter that child not to know and deprived of nascent freedom that will never be born and come knowledge in our genome of Independence.

When the caveman thought to be a complement to the world is enslaved by the mystery of lost in himself... The born and born, never dies, that's so naive and innocent... is still full unaware of their free will, rather it is he who must re-literate and be a living part of the ancestral genome Cavernario component. Oh Heavenly Lord of the steppes I look because more of you today without having lived what you lived, as he would have played with my gaze to succor and keep you had fallen into the fangs of an animal, or you had fallen on the glacier cliff where he has separated you from your Clan Cave.

Emancipation means to be always innocent, my blood runs through yours,
I read and understand any phenomenon of deprivation exist without you lack wisdom satiate if all your generations crushed by the ignorance of falling subject will be well, me and my being I take my precognitions as a tormented child's worst nightmare before about sleeping. Sixth Papal almost, almost kneel before the creation of memorizes creation. This prerogative Lord lives Bread’s God Minor remaining....of whose iconography will not leave this fifth fraternal dimension will not come, if not more will enter the latter end of absolute solitude... and shorter than the last thousand years of Neandertal.


Cavernary Political and Ellipsis:

On a day of gentle wind and tense rain proclaiming Clan joined, they all shouted running, the ground shook and the children slept in terror... the 10 infants who were talking about the Sign from above, but the nines they crossed his arms remaining to create solidarity roof that protects the man in your imagination...
The eighth child of the clan ran quickly into the arms of his mother and she imagined how far, how far would never come... uncharacteristically who came with his brother seventh had in their hands the word of entertainment of Being, to be a plaintiff political all of braiding them together with lines enabling the hermit may decide that creation is a mass of lines of certain fashions together, everything sings like the slightest cyclamen dew on the line pointy rough fallen fungus. All arms folded on the upper porch of the Vatican Macario in Franconia, saying that many who unite in their fevered requests large modern man ceased to be autonomous when it came out of their caves and charnel pit.

Ran all she enjoyed doing that almost without knowing whether or not they fall...
Ran because of every day the sun ahead of them a lesson for a man of the future...
They are running to be released the day of his birth chained to stars of light, to carry him to his mother and father, sneaking to his brothers.

Brother worn eleventh birth to her existence as another being evolved Eukaryotic: Surely those provided beings of cell membranes rhizomes reflected in higher liberty lives purged of ectoplasm walk without a discounted subsidiary. Shakespeare in Helsingor appeared immune to a blood brother to all that limits the Draconian feel in the pinnacles drawn 700 greened steeds. From the deepest swoon in the underworld subway Helsingor, follow the prevailing souls presided over by the great ear of the hard sandcastle, stressed hard Ghosts of Stratford upon Avon.

Freedom plague spits words of pancreatic poisoned exordium, spits verses of confusion disorders without permission, without solid bass sound without liquid sea that resists mad edges followed by solid sound...
But smaller stones give priority to conjugate final sentence and noble verses Guardian
to mission how important would Liberation:

Maybe it's a synonymy of Astral Solar...
It is not Solitude, is a free nation that has its own kind prosecutor's office for even when Euthanasia closes your eyes to the astral, will run the stones of the Sea of joy believing that neither you dare if there is no healthy grass to clarify the rainy day terror.


Reverse walk creeks aggravated birds feet, walking great playful ruse.
Reverse run my comrades preparing festivity meals with chandeliers and singing lay plenary., Singing Avenue pine port Firenze, Second run subtracting minutes and hours the minute is enough for me with your face in my arms to recognize your longevity anathema times oblique faces for lip-smacking hailstones Templars.

In 1297 in northern Italy nearby rural families migrate to chalky Venice, Perugia came the exiles walked to find their independence south of the Iberian Peninsula. They were so atoned as in the echoing flutes, harps, zithers, and harpsichords field temperate; They invited the blunting of intemperate monocordio.

Golden Chariot Carrenio

The golden carriage carrying them came without a single space rather than inheritances acquired goldsmiths of ancient noble and chaste solid shine. Carrenio; the coachman wore on his left arm bracelet thousand mobile travel without stopping to drink more water and to feed their horses. After revamping its gold pieces bartered by a slave who was getting Carrenio Christians fleeing the Romans. Well, they fled as far as the plains of great earthly squandered his memory and that end of the end should come.

How am away from my land more I learn it's back to her,
There is no ground for the first time, but that which is foreign
Carrenio of Perugia and sensed that ****** was Jewish ashes,
Luther King black paste of burnt forest,
Mandela and Biko Ogre garage from Victorian Empire,
Gandhi in his humility is always put behind the Sun
to figure out the small
Tagore trashed my heart caressing the entire universe uncorrupted
Hölderlin together in the cabin waiting for his mother at Zimmerman,
That my beloved Borker forest should shine gold teeth with black resin,
Theresa of Calcutta was eaten and swallowed all diseases lepers knowing good taste proverbial dessert psalm,
Jose Miguel Carrera was more than a trench, clay bullets in each of his temples where he received
To be doubly Lonco is to be halved, lacerated by lay his head on his land, not galloping on his back throngs of wit and hope out Nazareth trembles when an F-16 diluted ***** covering landless caravans Heritage continues to lead the people killed but the mosque wall has been Fe Erecta.
Helena plenipotentiary Kowalska at Vilnius, Faustina Divine Mercy Diadema
The agonizing deprivation of millions of people with cancer in every continent of private well-being analgesic, weighed down by increased pain, almost as strong as the Master Hammered Golgotha, so it was that Joshua has cancer always to slow it down on us. Benigno whether metastasis, malignant albeit benign finance.
The death of an innocent little angel devoured by the beast remains as a fluff hairless sardine in the jaws of a shark baron.
Khalil Gibran writes that with both hands to support the reviewer behind in Bicharri and bohemian Paris,

Salvador Allende Gossens was born since he was deceived by his parents who would heal politics, would rather dig their ancestors in their brains scattered in the currency in face seal or tail of.

Frei Montalva that today has to receive the Macro Augusto Heaven their arms, their sorrows, and regrets, although his worst military executioner.

Legion is an offshoot of liquid central gray material, which defers well done becoming but not defeated, it is the decree of the divine threshold space Living or ceases to live, that failure does not exist, it is the postponement of success - success.

The Genocide September 11 in New York was a ritual, who produced was a small wrath strength of the Rotary world, as the camshaft is upset in the history of trying to make more alphabet in schools where the flag hoisting and found scholars in West and East, so they can learn more than reading of both unlettered, lip and water to possess it to write with it. The worst disaster is read with the memory that will never happen... I write my greatest need with lipstick and my greatest need I write eagerly to participate. Yesterday I passed by a boutique and buy lipsticks that are closer to the language, written with the mouth and not the hand. !

Freedom, debauchery, libration, drawer, Bookstores..! Carrenio..: he said see I'm right! Raise and educate has a great synonymy with autonomy because the ancestors wrote everything that deprived them and made them fear, but do not have to eat the autumn gives me to dress the return of spring, bread orchid, and cineraria. Hence by that inner syllabic singing hunger sated that sought sheet to sheet rid of everything until the end of the book as the encounter between night and day without considering oblivious to anything or anyone on the track window swing wind, wind seeping.


It was old Zeus or Hera of Antique,
Cavern to house geometric polyphonic, angular seeds to create fashions kiss kissed everything that any vertical plane does not fit with the closed horizon
For hands and angels, Hebrews the inner soul of every carpenter and stonemason shrunk, wash their eyes and cheeks with songs of vibration and idyllic comfort,
Everything resembled and sounded Bethlehem 2.0 deities choirs sweeping grasslands,
The similarity of this clairvoyant child is born in a cave...
Rising motherly free Soliloquy Papini sitting to the right of ruminant cattle,
So archaic that to be born is not born in a clinic mega Cristus but hundreds of kilometers and hundreds who are born with the undergirding whispers and servitude being.
Where the multi gray impetuous born star is a healthy gauze story in the present tense... this angelic child grows by Miriam washes his feet in a belligerent abolished stone. His father must wash their hands on a stone which is where measured his ecclesiastical mystical stature, stone Madonna to heal his feet where he leaves to free himself, to free us... Marble gamete fémina vault, where he sleeps without knowing whether it is due, the ***** fell from the sky.
How wise is the Wise, it makes permissible for much more than two thousand years we stone quarry wheel and wheel, homily, and blessing to not wake at night to sleep startle middle and uphill.

Me of the referent of antiquity is not me of today is polished cobble stone,
Useful weapon quarry road there and backtrack to have blisters stone and soft thoughts under my pillow soft stone as a whole.

If you're ****** private living and have a free soul choosing coexist, then you are low in the cemetery on a tombstone of heresies.

Neolithic early 4500 after Hildegard von Bingen and his entourage and prowled full and channeled, swooning in her swoon with flowers in his hands and his followers planting forests on top of Stonehenge.

Carrenio says...: you see I'm right, we coexist, I die like the worst ****** cancer and then put a tombstone Stonehenge conspire in my honor black pain prayers of Salisbury. It blooms in vibrant red rubies that detonate in chromaticity and life. The stream itself is exceeded the aquatic plant Macarenia.

Call us and civilize us, outdated as far as my tired feet though I come not ashamed to see my new tracks.

Carrenio says...; see I'm right Joshua has traces of gold from other Caterpillar shod feet. Antique everything is prescribed according to their legacy today is Lent Pro that came before it was Lent vestige Pentecost came to be a nickname of the mystery of the passion in less than a rooster crows.

Beside it is the mystery of the disappointment of stubborn demon, which helps you all carry the cross, but not the entire load. Fire and Light at dawns where the splendor born...


Genome Freedom, even today every centimeter of my witness of each component, if the basic origin of the signs of the primitive world, is that we have lost the bark of the lexicon, which does not allow us to understand the meditations to ask for something, not You need to ask something. Today genome is requesting something because thousands of people who asked for millions of years, now it's time to cater to them. They were wrapped in cloth shroud of spiritual sacredness, today cemeteries mega dance their souls leave no sleepers both much grass on their heads not yet sullied by the puppet Azrael.


Impossible not to decorate the rocks forged empires that fall into the rubble, they bring 476 d. C., a new opening Middle age freedom of travel both in history thousands of years begins a new axis Golden Carrenio’s Chariot.

Carrenio Wagon

This great colossal ship Carrenio time is a timber that holds the sky, a beam that does not faint or distended thousands a. C, and the old age of King's large musings that were forgotten. It is astride ship millennium, their history of oppression has seen in the wheel, instrument wise rolling like a wheel before 5, 000 years ago, here  We fought and prostrated to distant lands millennium after millennium him away.

Golden Chariot is the structure that freedman us to enforce a new life on earth, even the Gods prided themselves move the stars to constellations called her noble Auriga sailing in full the Universes and Cartwheel Galaxy or cart Wheel. As if to say that when the Universe and its own mythology, were visited between them inch by inch by wherever they shine.

Carrenio mask and frame used had strength, temper, and tittle. When the first libertarian squall of antiquity came closer, Rome was already small and nobles populate what is a quote, Piccola. The executioner always frightened and starts out of his own wickedness. Markos Botsaris as did in Greece, and surrounding towns Messologhi remote, they were free more than tuned in massif Arankithos high wind. He was riding to Kanti once again with the golden rider Etrestles of Kalavrita. According to the Chronicle that came from distant millennia has envisioning promote its neighbor's heroic to free Messolonghi of ****** wars. All this I saw with his own eyes Carrenio, every thousand years styling with Etrestles, cleaned their nostrils so that new breed of horses to thrive,

Avignon, in the necropolis, witnessed as Azrael was cleaning his wings Jade antipopes, another story begins... even he seeks to candela who can read this story, and who can provide it from hand to hand cutting semicolons who disclosed.


Second  Ellipsis Angle  New Era:

Ara released the ropes throwing a big ship, History makes a man is at the center of the world. Revolutions, thinking, communication, and especially vindicate man in his right-libertarian. artists with their creations flowing all over the world, mutating classic Renaissance to abstract overlook. Family appearing welfare and needs. A ramble and so many broken laws. Mankind is distracted l film and theater artist of tradition. Art now has sound and movement, then social and political revolutions are industrial that unite everyone behind the pivot deployment of social classes.


Everything evolves until we get tired of doing so. It rests and then continues. This is modern reality, we wrote about the history of events on facts that have never been told. The world has tired all the Eras, but each pause time that has happened has been recharged, nothing finished if not started again. After so many wise lawyers, clergy plunged into great towers bound books. Is evident again can not read or understand. Our realities are missing valid without knowing I close and then open another door. human and civil rights, fair wages, so excessive autocracy monarchy. Freeman can walk along the paths, even if they were trenches.

Zephyr soft murmur which clutters in the Irises by Van Gogh, the painter is the biggest star trek, called with his feet images and colors that would make his own liberty to live naturally insane. And many others Brueghel "Triumph of Death" that roam the countryside, perhaps a medieval piece of Tarskovski; Andrei Rublev in futile painters decorating steps in the fontano chignon Androniko Monastery Moscow, extinct Rublev 70 years, Tarkovsky 54.

Early ellipsis - Campo dei Fiori in Rome to see die at the stake Giordano Bruno by order of the Holy Inquisition. The irruption of the Inquisition, but their feet are touching the flowers, the seasoned cassock continues to haunt the universe of Faith Dominica Trastevere, it is seen to lectures on how to be bold with the informers and the Whistle Blower dies without shade in spring, you resist the star on the asphalt on the magical island of holiness.

Carrenio says: Come I'm right, we can not read, because the brutality of the Cosmos is manure per ton weathered in the backyard of the aristocracy. I will continue with respect and crosed in Crete. Lila Kedrova means the fear of bunk bed tied to her bed and is free in foreign lands leg. Queen insular matriarchy, she lives more than any Greek Goddess, waiting for his Adonis, to fill out honors. Win an Oscar but lost to Zorba, he loses his house but won a Tony Awards. How many women teach us that to win you have to give everything to lose his brains, and thus count as the lost number remains to be retained. Zorba whines in her arms, she moans in the arms of her husband Zeus Steve, proof of a new era. Onyx for his tomb, plate of this great tragedy.

On the evening of December 14, 1964, attended the premiere. Soul of Carrenio was with them but was denied his attendance at the banquet, finally running out and watching the glasses lips and stoles spent his neck.

                                          
          ­                      Numbered Mysterious Death
                                                  Mané

If I have to feel floe on my feet and cold in my prayers will be the Dark Glory. What is slimming rays of the day, everything smelled of silence, maybe it was Kennedy, or better was The Mané.

Closure of my glory suffers the wind...
Flowers lying silence my soul alight,
Thick square displays the song of my voice...
When they speak Quadratils one to one order their
Spirituous voice.

And the spirit singing fiber of my heart told me:
Never you say I Exist ¡ not exist because they do not exist!
Only face daily the different reflection of your body
In front of yourself with another face and another body...

I want to talk with the thought
And this same subtract my little silhouette,
Lavishes wingless bird that flies only in their theology...
That is the duty and melt with my look,
Solid colors components
Crunching the altars of heaven retaining its pale warmth of anorexia.

Yellow Glory hair good event...
If you receive yellow lights, plus I do not sing my own game here in my empty veins,
Yellow my heart...
Yellow my heart
Yellow my collective heart.

They are run by large green and sunny meadows, children who had Mane in this major milestone in its last gasp. Now she is the mother of his children; it up and them in the last temptation of the mystery of death.

Carrenio keeps rolling, the brightness offered his Golden wagon to the ground. Gold grooves ago, and looking at where it realizes that it's landmass light mud. Since he felt whispers from the confines of time he had never felt as if you were finishing your journey or the world. It raining years and years and continues because nobody mends the mysterious death Numbered.

Heaven and Earth did not hold, the bottom fell precipitously pocket Lord and denied several times uncontained. She shivered in the World and the rooster crowed several times to never be heard or the Pentagon.

He is walking and knees bent,
we embraced by the golden chariot and oxen nor held
we bent us all lying on his knees,
up shoulders not hear from where came the bad grace of his departure,
numbered all the time of complaints of how then she would come,
It is unknown who would be but brought wine in his hand on the crispy mask
We ran from side to side and nothing was real

Everything seemed to sing in the chapel on a sad day,
But I hear loudly like Latin and watchfulness,
Those who know his mystery is no stranger to them
They all look but transgress the sin of silence.

Carrenio still absorbed in the hallway,
Angulo ellipsis she comes winged like a star burning tar,
A high speed to give us the new
No garden can deprive greet in speed visit
Dome comes, it comes on the eve of the new moon.

Numbered Widow mysterious,
Mané is a land of golden color and no celestial whoever wants in his cell,
A breath test, and feeding the Toffy and his henchmen
That sustaining more lively detail, there is no one that can not be targeted

It was modern, it was night, it was his torn life as an accomplice of his exile abandonment in his allegory of tender dismissal. Carrenio achieved so say goodbye to the beams of light that told him of the mysterious death Numbered. He sat on the roadside and drank some wine. Then dry with his handkerchief his neck, and have never wanted to experience such an event in a toast ever drunk.

Third Ellipsis Angle  of  New Era

Independence of Chile, it concerns Mapuche atingent case. Araucania pound, then 1818 central Chile. In Brief, Earth makes free an entire nation. His naive and primitive braves inhabitants emancipated themselves from all sides, they came to save a people who were just following where nobody can reach. Independence of the United States separates us for approximately 42 years, breaking up owners of nowhere. Industrial Abolitionist and South Slaver and Agraria. The biggest event that more than 640, 000 men and fallen activists planted safely from repression fields.

In Chile all rule resembled this secession in today's Araucano man prays for his fallen by almost more than 3 centuries in Chilean lands of Araucanía’s men. Lautaro genius and his supporters the heart of Pedro de Valdivia ate; Map ever made to your battle mapping Tucapel. "Initiation and final symbol occurred after 282 years of fierce war" and Mapuche land forever their independence from the Spanish Empire Captain-General important in foreign lands never subjected to foreign rule would eat.

The Machis and Loncos make supplications in native forests falling on them pollen on its back as if nothing out 10 times better...

To Libertas strengthen in the west is necessary to push the limits of the earth beneath his tongue and penance for the greedy entangled in the lines of bloodied sky, rebellions Chieftains death-defying all together at the edge of a cliff. 1769 The Pehuenches led by Lebian Cacique, joined the Mapuches razing Yumbel and Laja, the most peaceful Huilliches also joined mass alerting perhaps innocent people land blood-stained war and the Mackay Luchsinger.

No doubt portals military rebellion trigger blood, where they opened a tip and swords in the past. Here's reading concern is that the succession is timeless time, a sword without a sword, but on the tip of her blood is seen where there were herds and warriors crushed by their own footsteps. Here the phenomenon of freedom begins; Humanity runs treading his own footsteps, to save his family from a threat, but not strange forces that force you to use your defenses, because in the groves populate many helpless souls with his sword unused at the expense of being forced to use.

Freedom genome; It aims to reach where it has not come without looking back,
Chalices pour out is where the troubadours do not cuddle her close looks like time, singing while watching the changes are not of a new life


Heaven star,
Come to me,
I ask a sign to see them arrive,
Because I want to thus been dragged
Being together Eager to feel...
Those respites without being comforted
going to the mouth of the serpent.

About the Garden,
My home is to put my love,
He has to put the days imagining close...
To enjoy yourself is nonexistent...

Oh, my house tormenting me...!
Because in it I feel your smell
They are alone lights
Where I would wait for me to be in the dark...

In the coming future,
You will not see or hear my anger...
Perhaps my happiness nor peace praying
As the spear in the hands of the perpetrator.

You know a storm of whispers
I do sow your name in the wilderness,
It's because my judgments of hope
They mount up arable land deposited in my frenzy
Misled by a love which is my love.

But you never understand,
Because time has invaded my dwelling,
Invading my brain to give
It has invaded my choosing to love...

On the grass path,
Every time I move away from you,
I turn to see if you have not been...

Love came,
And I think that leaves us alone to avail ourselves
Ranging in our time...


But I can not resist his silence,
For my house want the noise of its action,
Why keys to the gates that serve my understanding.

Tramples my heart the fragmenting oddities into smaller pieces,
Your answer that call.

Tur love be like if I had created...
As if only you had appreciated your beautiful creation.

Do not destroy your work expresses in his mystery give life to your dreams!
Man aiming better earth, ask some of you to join your dreams...

! Your wife of this land does not procrastinate your misfortune,
I discover far peaceful landscapes like an echo in the spring,
As large and deep as your forgiveness for loving me more


It tells the Earth to the Sun in its perky tear benefactress of new opportunities as good and healthy smile rainbow on the back of Oviedo sheep valleys of freedom of Pietrelcina life.

To be continued…
Genoma Freedom , by Jose Luis Carreño Troncoso - Under Edition
Paige Ashley Jul 2010
There is common ground between the seasons and I
Stages of everything going conclusively awry
Undergoing this divine metastasis
I view it as lacking the act of being courageous
And being even farther of described as spontaneous
But I never berated a late afternoon in September
Especially the absurd image of even knowing it was a possibility
I hope in a decade or so I will remember
Every one of these disjointed thoughts
As rapid as hummingbird wings I'll soon miss December
Rich Hues Feb 2019
Gobbing and thrashing
       To Jello Biafra,
Before your damascene conversion into
        Something from Kafka,
The feminist utopia -
        A left wing theocracy,
You should have read Forster's
   Two Cheers for Democracy,
With red dead Cortez
      In her little white coat,
Where only lunatics and women
     Bother to vote.
The boys get a mantra
    A three syllable jingle,
The reason he topped himself?
    The reason you're single?
FRITZ Feb 2020
creeping madness slicks black and manic

spider high up on the wall

eyeballing me nervously,                                       "who are you?

why are you stalling? whats come crawling back?

you know how this ends don't you?"





swift answers and an amniotic happiness installation.

                              speaking of stone, wired the lilies grow and the intrepid sank there was quite a stillness in the air.

sunken sand around my feet water cold and green.

     out to meet the entity

     her languorous form so ravenously tempting

     so utterly repulsive and unspeakable.

looking for lights offshore

          heretics of the unimaginable disciples of the moon

          chemical ooze gels burns in the stomach

lit on up and walked out over the water.





after his peak, went heat seeking to the east and he ceased his babble easily, stuffing his mouth with pennies and bits of charcoal. we called him land-lubber and left him for said.

there is no part to this.

there is no heart in this.

                                                    blistering and out of control the fever spins.

wandering tills the level.

                                 filtering cold and pushes me out into the yarns.
a crawling idiot madness
SALaprade Sep 2013
Cold and unforgiving, no longer caring,
no longer happy, but also not grieving
My body just sits here, numb, motionless,
for what feels like a thousand years
Forgetting what it means to remember,
like using logic to sort through the feelings
Like a statue made up of *****,
like a machine choking on its own tears
Like trying to escape from a room with no door
Surrounded by people, and still so alone
Each day comes darker than the one before
Heart turned cold, then turned to stone
Petrification of compassion and empathy
Metastasis of pathological apathy
Irony and cynicism replace joy and hope
Divinity and love exchanged for empty *** and dope
Unrelenting curses and half Muffled screams
Mask the sudden death of unrealized dreams
Such is the nature of love which has been lost
Before it ever even had a chance to live.
Such is the nature of mercy and grace
Before it ever even learned to forgive.
Kurt Nimmo Feb 2015
the worst thing is the realization
you have nothing to say.

the worst thing is
a collision of words spinning
deaf into a vortex of irrelevance.

you finally understand.
you are like the rest of them.
you have nothing to contribute.

silence is cancer
deaf and dumb metastasis.

it happens to giants and dwarfs
locksmiths and astrophysicists
mathematicians and short order cooks.

it happens to saints and serial murderers.

silence so deafening
it barters with suicide.

maybe that’s
why they invented

television.
Erika Soerensen May 2014
We equate Success with  the positive
when in reality
Success can also be a negative,
like Cancer.

In this instance,
you are Yearning for its failure
Praying for its failure
Desperate for its failure!

For if that pesky little cell decides
to invade
and begin the
Dance of Death called
Metastasis,

Success is in its favor.
Sudipta Maity Nov 2018
Weakness haven't any pride in itself,
neither it is shame.
It is a disease.
if you didn't eliminate it in it's first stage,
it will be ends up with metastasis.
day dreamer Jun 2013
She sought my forgiveness
but I denied her
the one who I loved
had hurt me so much

She was the cause
reason for my discontent
for the metastasis
of the animosity
that was a tumor inside my being
malignant and growing

Love and hatred
dissolved in each other
so when she told me she was sorry
that she loved me
that she wanted me back
I couldn’t accept her
I wanted to punish her
for her to feel the pain and illness
inside me which I held her responsible for

But time goes on
my hatred faded
my love stayed intact
I came to find
I had only punished myself
hurt myself further
each time I time I pushed her away
I dug my pit deeper

Now I stand at the bottom
of my expansive crevasse
staring up at the love I once knew
and could still have
if I had only forgiven her when she first asked
night falls.   space slackens.
falling into common placeness, the realness
     of quotidian moon.

    .

 a love for the metastasis of minutiae.
  a hand on the cold **** pale like the dead.
  the tombs of fingernails. creases for
   delineations of Earth. clenched, evening.
      unloosened, bare as morning.
    hand in hand, twilight.

    .

  outside the house, a figure.
  things stir in the persistence of silence.
  the flagrant irony of hearing cacophonies.
     a part of the world that becomes a kin.
   say, without light and the dimensions of
     things, no shadows display in grayscale.
 listening to the cancer of the avenue:
   the continuing  tachycardia in the edge
      of things. things that pulse or flatten.
     the mind, in your passing. the heart in your passing.  respect this chronology.

     likened to the metaphor of beginning
  an immediate and forever turning of the body when trouble meant togetherness,
   and  consolation, simply remembering.

  .

there is a deconstruction in sleep.
   the alterable garment of dream. or a flower
  revealing its inflorescence.
  the blackred hemograph of petals, the accuracy of thorns, the tabulated geography
    of its stillness - something it that does not completely practice.  the constancy of the wind    breaks its mimesis.

   .

outside your house again. the undesirable quake in the monotony of your dog, Oliver, chained to the stilt of the house that does
     move anymore.

  the absolute quiet of the street foreshadows the variegated Dieffenbachia.
   the color of my palm, starting to green.

   i could be anything within your presence
     as the moon intensifies the plunge.
Dawn King May 2015
could you fathom the
cavernous entangled
facets of all that has
passed my scope

those whom
are seemingly debilitated

would inquire

those that hold an
intrinsic capacity
to metastasis the
venom of the
human condition

would not
John F McCullagh Dec 2018
I knew it without knowing; I cannot tell you why.
I sensed that this would be the day that we would say goodbye.
The doctor in in lab coat had played this scene before.
He used the term “metastasis “as he told me the score.
I asked if I could be with you as you faced the end
He said “of course, it’s better if the pet is with their friend.
He promised me there’d be no pain; just a pinch and then
My Labrador would drift to sleep and to his final end.
I kept a brave face for Boots sake; He shouldn’t see me cry.
The hardest part of having a pet is the day we say goodbye.
I was ten when we had to put "Boots" down.
next to the dresser i counted one of many minutes.
     a metastasis to twenty and i took it to memory
     her body not even the slightest resistance.
  
after bathing when feet barely dried
      leaves pools, like an admission of something.

i still have next to the sink, a shabby portrait.
     unsheathed its silence, hung by the gate
     by the neighboor as you confessed one
     April afternoon, the heat so tense erasing lush as a tree is a palimpsest
         now aged, wind reentering a distance
     like i imagine your hand in my denim.
     spaces in between bury a pattern of insistence.

  carefully extolled when i pass by the lit TV
      wasting its voice to no audience,
  when we crawled from one room to another
       leaving words inside dungeons of mouths
    and when a tongue broke loose, maneuvering
      across a tablature is music of creaking wood
      and time-worn hinge - the accidental thump
     on the bedpost softly sings

              a punishment: now an urge to go back
     yet not knowing which door to enter,
           every surrounding object as witness,
      memorized a minute's completion,
  refusing to map out which way to go.
this is the mind’s subtle configuration:
    light, dark, vacuity. a metastasis of
    sound from dispersions. except
a few stray birds alight umbilical tightwire.
    i start to dream the clarity of something
comparable to                            

                                 ­                        vertigo.
                                           in that high place,
pouncing, daringly immense, this experiment
is in the mind’s operative. but you have no idea
what I am pertaining to, or what I am describing
to you, as I do not have maps to begin with, nor
do I have the blueprints to succinctly depict where
to go in case my lostness intersperses with yours:
that there is only precision in where we want to go,
but never where we are at present, and that in the long haul,
         long-winded ruminations are waste of time
and that to have wallowed deep in the grovel of mirth,
to sully in superfluity, and to give no care as though
    120 kilometers per hour in the expressway, shotgun,
hands spread in the sky towering like lampposts yearning
for a steady acquisition of light, the sounds that take the
  form of apparitions and we scream, yes we scream,
with tenderness and rhetoric,

                                          are, of course sensuous narratives
the heart measures in quatrain, in caesuras, in verse
    and breadth ( and or so, the simplified electric delight
      of a word’s sweet measure hurled to the rotund of ear as
     to move close in speaking / whispering )
to permit ourselves to boldly gasp for breath
     after the thrill of realizing the terseness of things,
               that allow us to speak beautifully for ourselves.
Darkness hits I go through my metastasis,
My metamorphosis complete
Transcending Dante's circles
Into this limbo of a night
I'm alight.
B L Costello Jul 2019
The darkened room
Sterile and clean,
She stood with the Doctor and stared at the screen,
An ugly black spot,
“What is this?”
The Dr. said….”metastasis”,
He offered her chemo,
“It could give you a year…6 months without it…“I am so sorry dear.”
For ten years,
She did what they said,
Now everything’s changed
The tumor spread,
No surgery,
Because of the size,
They said live with it
And she tried……
She learned to live with it,
She did,
Why?
How is she going to learn to die?
©B L Costello 2019
She has fought the good fight for over 10 years.  Felt like a winner, but now......very bad news.
Tammy M Darby Aug 2017
Yet your soul withers and is dying
Mayhaps you were mistaken in your choice
Regretting the decisions  
The words were spoken in anger by a cruel voice

The smug triumphant demeanor
In shame long forsaken and lost
The desolate chill in early winter of the senses
Now comes the metastasis of feared black frost

You have in your hand all you desired
Yet silent in torment, your spirit weeps
Rest comes without in the guise of exhaustion
A weary conscience infected sleep

I say again
You have in your hand all you desired
Pray tell what madness in your mind have you sired
Though with company
Still alone in a cold empty room
‘With a slowly dwindling fire
But at least you have in your hand all you desired
Norbert Tasev Nov 2021
Pulp-threshed, deprived-brain gorilla brains, muscle gorillas still charm; it may not even be necessary to mix! Who started who on the *****?! With shameful, sanda promises, who could have shocked the eternally hopeful hemispheres better? Does the universe fire of our childhood still shine up there? The last advertising light of the Silver Age is just yet, but staying so hard! Vivid, solarium-stained meat masses are shouted like cult sculptures of health!
 
A barren search, and the researchers began digging in a disgraceful way to even save what seemed like a cheap century of time left to us! Already all cheap plays, mutual deception; as a tumor spreading as a metastasis, re-create the thunderstorm wheel of History with its own laws, only that their selfish and irrefutable lies should gain new votes! A knife knife also proved to be a small number of pumpkins worn around the necks! To adjust the arc of decline, it is still advisable in someone's bubbling, bottomless rage to always hit his denied compliment!
 
Repeated defeats have goosebumps on the backs of many, though they could have done so instead of trying to decipher the lack of resources! The Living is still sorting ******* crumbs! When does the actual Light leak through idiocy?! A curious heart if you really want to start exploring, so that a wise researcher can find the silly, parade-like make-up make-up under the thick, chubby layers of meat, peeling off the hearty, human layers! The circling nodes of the Spirit show everyone their individual paths as a passable threshold! All crossroads branches; happiness is always just the first projected encounter!
Charu biaht Oct 2017
If your dead soul still breathing, you can bring it to life,
For find a passion to live, else your dead soul will soon die,
To all those with lame excuses:-there is no time,
Ask someone fighting with metastasis stage,
Before committing this crime-there is still no time,
A good time to start good is NOW-so why do you cry,
If your dead soul still breathing, you can still bring it to life,
For find a passion to live, else your dead soul will soon die….
anonymous Feb 18
the gravity of what he did weighed on me for so long

(causing my ribs to crack so I could never draw in a full breath, and my legs to give out from holding in the tension of the truth)

so long, that I'd forgotten what it felt like before he touched my skin

I'm remembering now, and it hurts as it cracks me open and tears down my walls
this facade that everything is 'just fine, thanks!' has worn me down and held me together
I performed the act for so long, I forced it to become my reality
the whispered guilt crept into my bones and settled there like a cancer, spreading in a paralyzing metastasis
with each extra chance given I nailed myself to my little proverbial cross
knowing that I couldn't be both the victim and a martyr, so I chose my own Sainthood

and now he's gone

the dam collapses and now it's drowning me and I am drowning!
and there is no way for me to swim, he's killing me even now
and yet if he is the death of me I'll rise again in a spiteful show of metanoia

I'll be back transcended, back wearing armour
back flaunting my stigmata and with the unguarded meat of my heart, I'll tear apart every veil he draped over my scars
I'll bring about Armageddon just to see that traitor cower

— The End —