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Vernarth and his companions delighted in the company of the biosphere since he was in the Eclectic Spiritual Portal, and in this dimension only he could be. Later, they communicated only through his donkeys, when they wanted to send them messages or share with him, they mounted one of these equids and they could pass into this atmosphere of ultraviolet light that separated them. More than an egregious Pythagorean calculation, he already stood out in his eon of matter-spiritual energy Vernacentricus, as a quantum station of the geodesy of the Megaron that has already begun to be built. At this precious moment the secular and demiurge satellites of him arrive, they came with the foundation of the points to refer to definitively raise the Ultramundis Vernacentricus. From the Vóreios or boreal the apocalypse of San Juan will be intertestamental with the canons of Zefian that transmigrated from the powers from the transversal valleys of the Horcondising, essentially following the sensory track of the Nothofagus Obliqua to attract the iterated populations of the forest.
The patriarchs and the orthodox mountain range appeared in the cords of the fungi called Ambrosiella ceratocystidaceae, to provide the Ambrosia Mercurial, as a nutritional addition to the main pilasters of the temple, with great influence of fungal fungi. Everything was beginning to demarcate from the eruv of the Zefian arrow that was named Tetarto Vélos, or fourth arrow that was already beginning with its culminating operation with the borer beetles, demarcating the urev of the Vóreios throughout the region and on the oaks of Patmos, that began to be located from the Meli Witran Mapu Mapuche winds, beginning with Pikún-kürüf Northwind with the first two arrows of the Taxotas, and Sur Waiwén, of the Pezhetairoi, of the quantum of transmigration of the Horcondising-Panhellenic sub-mythology. Then the Puelche drags the borer beetles with more force to lift the uprising fungi of the Mandragoron by the eastern vertical, to culminate with the Lafkén-kürüf all attached to the axis that supports them from this great bilocation. The boreal is demarcated, so that the Necromancer Ezpatkul with his Augrum and gold teeth, twisted the tendency of the beetles to move the main columns of the frontispiece, being colossal in reality with twice the diameter of the central ones. Then the conclusive and posterior ones of the rectangular quadrant of the Beit Hamikdash were bilocated, to bilocate the Bern Olive Trees from Gethsemane so that they finally joined the Meltemi, and towards the aeolian winds of Tramontane Eolionimia falling on the Tekhelet of Paul of Tarsus, dropping relevant heights of some cranes with gravitating silt on their extremities, and with garbeas that were secondarily colonized on the banks of the desert areas of the rocky Hamada. As was previously proverbial, three birds climbed reflecting the crown of the kings in Bethlehem, Arriving at the sacred native city, and beginning the choirs of Nativity and passion for the hiss in tenuity on the twelve Giant Camels, where they paid special attention to rebuild another temple with a sigh greater than a Sheba Dean. The canon of Policleto was renewed with Zefian who agreed with San Juan, for this kanon that will be the relevant line of topographic surveying. Thus the basal measurements of the golden number will begin with the acroteria concerted summer seats of prosperity next to the Metopes. Ezpatkul would bring with his magic the red blood cells of Betelgeuse along Leiak with all the Templar three-dimensional morphology, naming this singular parapsychology of Pope Urban II who proclaimed the First Crusade at the Council of Clermont, in France, on November 27, 1095, to delineate the paradigm in the anatomy of Gaugamela bled into Vernarth's breastplate, as the archaic and first crusade that would inspire Christian supremacy, which was already anticipated before the Christian era to come. It will be visible gestures of the trajectory of the arrows of the Zefian Torah that were deposited with their hallelujahs from the ***** of Crete. The sulfur yellow and red blood cells marked the radiosity of the Eclectic Portal that opened to give Vernarth material egress, so he would take his tools and go with his donkey's escorts for the chromatic that will be sulfur yellow and red blood cells, both dependent on the complementation with the Cinnabar, and in the raised bodies of Court V of the Helleniká Necropolis in Kímolos.

Under vileness or absence of light among darkness or apocryphal light of Evil, in contrast to the robust equanimity of light and shadow partisan of Saint John the Apostle, for the hegemonic good of his incorruptible vision. The naturalness made the world apologetic with the immune defenses of the polish textures, they invoiced proportional mathematical measures ibidem of the Hommo Novis, and of the Geometric Pythagoreanism for a body seven and a half times of Polykleitos, starting from the base to the feet as the base of the plinth or frieze until reaching near the capital that exemplifies the chin, before reaching the cornice, highlighting the figure of the capital with the front of the proportional ligament between the trunk, and the columns duly. Here the seven-headed Kanon of a David would recite the measures of the psalms, or beads in degrees with hoped-for dimensions. The kinetics was earth towed by towing carts in tetra bronze arrows, which balanced the unbalanced balance and harmony of the created whole. The symmetry of the transverse poles was muscled to make kinetic centripetal in the inertia of the bolt when hitting the faint glow of the canon rays. Making himself the sustenance in the stone and the mound, towards the Vernarth counterpose when the Himathion was tried, he appeared disguised and in composing. After this initial task, they approached the fire and scalding water to **** herbs, which pretended to be the formula of the backhoe extracted from the palimpsest of the generals of Alexander the Great, when they distributed their illegitimate Ark with royal titles; they were Perdiccas, Antipater, Crátero, Eumenes de Cardia, and others like the satraps who came to be enunciated as kings; Antigonus, Ptolemy, and Seleucus. Residing only the most substantial military colleague of them in this parapsychological saga Vernarth; and his brother Etréstles de Kalavrita who seconded and predestined him in his monolithic, and in the constituent sovereignty of Polis, for the purpose of reigning and raising his Kopis and Xifos intertwined in aldehyde manumissions and in the alcoholic carbonyl residues emanated from the Backhoe ferment and Nepenthe, depositing LSD in substantial amounts to align itself with Seleucus, and materially present itself in the sphere of Patmos as two representatives of both empires, one ancient Christian and the other Panhellenic, placing Seleucus in that totalitarianism over that of Alexander the Great, now extinct. On the last day after working and being satisfied with the construction work of the frontispiece, and its major columns, Vernarth joins them after temporarily leaving the eclectic portal, they sit by the fire to review the plans of the subsequent construction process del Megaron, along with his seven donkeys, mentioning Borker's necromancy. Since the omens of Wontehlimar, the linemen before Borker became reigning, for the static balustrade that will surround the Megaron, where all the Ibics rings were enlisted chorally by the patronage of the Hellenic Orthodox legacy of Alexander the Great after he was rescued by Wonthelimar from Babylon, and finally take you to your physical and spiritual shelter. The eruv of the Nótos was demarcated, surpassing the limits of the rings of stefánes Íbix, or Hoops of ibix, like nano kvantikoí daktýlioi, Nano-Quantum Ring auguring sensitize the dermis and its carpal phalanges. From the intertestamental, such as in Vóreios, passages from the Old Testament are explored here that says…: “The temple that was the only legitimate sanctuary of the Israelite people contained within it the Ark of the Covenant, a golden altar, and candlesticks of the same metal. , a table with sacred loaves and other utensils used to carry out the worship of the god Yahveh. It was located on the esplanade of Mount Moriá, in the city of Jerusalem, possibly where the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque are located. From this dome the larnax of the Great Macedonian, a prioris, the schismatics of ancient Christianity, and orthodox Judaic will be derived, separating from each other, after the fall of the second temple. Of this class and previously this was detonated due to the undivided troops of the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II, who destroyed it in 586 BC, also taking captives a large part of the inhabitants of the Kingdom of Judah, to Mesopotamia, giving rise to the exile and captivity of the Hebrews in Babylon. A reflective Borker of this premonition, he takes the Ibics Rings and selects one of them to join them with the first Zefian Arrow, as nano Kvantikoí Daktýlioi, quantum Nano-ring, to ensue in future similar events, avoiding invasions that cause looting and destruction. of the temple to be built on Patmos.

Nano-scales for Borker's nanotechnological conception, and estimates of threats of invasions and climatic changes, in one billion (109) and one billionth (10-9). In a meter there are one billion nanometers or, in other words, a nanometer is one-billionth of a meter. For those who will have to configure the dimensions of the Mandragoron "Temple of Vernarth" with carbon atoms, the support will be made in chemical units for the re-conception of nature, and its two- or three-dimensional networks. The nanotubes with 60 carbons, distributed in 20 hexagons and 12 pentagons, according to the geometric patterns of the cellular scale, in the conformation of the Hexagonal Primogeniture, being in this way concealed by the Ibics Rings, for each linear meter and cubic, traced by a nanometer which is one-billionth of a meter. Here, the borer beetles will catch the fungi ambrosiella ceratocystidaceae and will displace the virals that move geometrically from the beams of the Icosahedron.

The ranks of Falangists moved triangularly in multiple directions, to reach the Austral del Nótos de Borker, thus they would form the magic vectors of the polyhedron internally, triangulating at the top of the ram that carries an illustrious triangular phalanx, opening up the areas with its prop. vulnerable, to consolidate the buttress of the façade; the Áullos Kósmos, and pay homage to the apse that was filled with rejoicing. Sones of the philosopher Plato, made them regular or perfect in convex polyhedra, such that on all their faces were regular and equal polygons were made, and in all solid angles also equal. From this boulevard, the theology of Vernarth and Alexander the Great, fully professor and Platonic guide, will follow, making nomenclatures of nanostructures that affirm the volume and structure of the central sections of the radier, and their foundation bases shielded by the icosahedron in the nanotechnological scale, having physical material cells, for adaptation of structural changes and their environment.

The volume will be adapted microscopically, to analyze small particles with the return of the fourth arrow or Tetra Sagita of Zefian, absorbing nutrients and discarding the environmental threats based on carbon dioxide, to make a limiting membrane beauty, which moderates the nanoparticles that borer beetles were developing. The solidity of the partitions and walls will have the exact proportion of the nanomaterials, to adapt to the general area of the Mandragoron Nótos, which will ooze the surpluses due to the porosities, towards a volume highly resistant to invasions of limestone nanomaterials, and boulders that are made from the flow of the buttress of the apse that rises towards Aorion. The interior and exterior faces will be supplements of prayers of Prochoro, in didactics that will shield with the Antiphons Benedictus, and the hive of Plato's Icosahedron, becoming a consular material organism, and solid in interstices or leftovers from the feces of the Borers, until pasting and to reach the volume of the polyhedron, and its twenty faces pointing towards the physiognomy of the boulevard, tracing the general volume of the Mandragoron, and intercommunicating the quantum support and its theological harmony.

Says Borker: “if the organic cells operate with homage and with greater multicellular fields, here are the nanoparticles, in greater fields of fiatto, and in the slides that will recirculate in favor of the throat of the Mandragoron, and in the carbon nanotubes, essential elements of the biosphere and in useful layers of life that retrace the rest. There will be 20 linear meters in the area that lavishes the width and height, the projection of this scale of nanotechnology, will make the three-dimensional shape and a large voluminous serial in the Austral Nótos ”Vernarth's purging dimension, made him materialize at times and laugh out loud because he knew that everyone who was with him loved him! and from this fraction of faith, the Angel Raphael diagnoses them bread with archangelic essence; herb with great healing powers, especially in the dimension of the eclectic portal that allowed Vernarth to concern himself with material living beings.

Definitely, the second step of consolidation of the Megaron was established in the linear that the seven donkeys eagerly left, as masons and cabinetmakers who worked together with the Hexagonal Primogeniture. From this moment everything begins to have an inter-dimensional aspect, from the Invisible Eclectic Portal to the majestic geodesy and orography of this temple, which incorporated everyone for a charitable epiphany together with everyone in the Profitis Ilias, which was already crowned as the cusp Spiritual World of the Vernarthian Eclectic.
Áullos Kósmos
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2022
i've started to absolutely loath these shifts at Oxford...
for one: compared we're talking about a league one side...
the ****** stadium is one thing
but... just the drive there: and back...
out of the house from 1pm until 12:30am...
and for what? there's that coughing up for fuel
which has increased from £10 to £15... hell: my pay
hasn't risen...
   on topic: i was talking with my father about this...
inflation... the prices of commodities increases,
but the wages do not...
    fair enough: i might seem gullible at times...
given my grandfather was a member of the communist
party... but then communism in Poland
(a satellite state) wasn't the same as it was
in the actual Soviet Union... i'm no romantic of communism...
but surely if there's a concept of inflation:
there ought to be a logic around a concept of deflation...
but there isn't one in economics,
i.e. when wages go up: but the price of commodities
stays the same...
yet... the work of dairy farmers is the same: quality
and quantity-wise... economics it not my strong point...
i'm just thinking out-loud...
and i like thinking-dumb...
              my recent fascination comes in the form
of Confucius < Mozi < Mencius < Zhuangzi | Huizi
i.e. Kong Qui < Mo Di < Meng Ke < Zhu7ang Zhou |Hui ****...

i leave the house for roughly 10 hours and bring
back about £35... sure... it's the easiest shift on my list...
i get paid £35 to watch a football match...
but? today... the sky above Oxford looked more
entertaining than the football match... so? for the majority
of the time while the sun was still clinging
to reign over the sky: i was just looking at very pretty
clouds in the distance... i sometimes can't stomach
these base human foundations for society:
entertainment... i'd rather drink a bottle of wine
and just watch clouds behave like sloths...
or... perhaps not sloths... more like when a jellyfish
****** a cauliflower....

at least there was banter with my "manager"
en route toward Oxford... i ate a McDonald's in the alley
while waiting for him to pick me up...
banter... oh right: code words...
we call them the PLATOON... there's about 40 or so
"banana boat" folk... Daniel is the guy who conjured
up the expression: black don't crack...
what does that mean? you can't tell a black person's
real age... since you can be looking at a black
person who's 50... and you'd guess their age
to be 30... black don't crack...
i really think cosmetic industries should look into
the genome of both black people and people
with downs syndrome: those ******* hardly age...
you can't tell if there's a wrinkle on them...
seriously!
                  white boy humour... white boy
British humour... i'm writing this in complete earnest...
it's not even a joke: well... it's funny in a conversation
when you can crack jokes without a CCTV crow
on your shoulder...
so we cracked jokes about the PLATOON...

Daniel played that famous video of the ventriloquist
with that Ahmed the dead suicide bomber
puppet: I **** YOU...
i laughed on the verge of tears...
it's almost like that Dave Chapel sketch about
uniforms: a woman all tarts and no choux pastry
stuff... and Dave's like: pretending to be a police officer:
excuse me, ma'am... i may be dressed as a police officer!
but it doesn't mean that i am, a police officer!
or Team American's Durka Durka: Muhammad Jihad...
i just said to Daniel: are any of these ***** from
Rotherham? where? oh you know...
that Rotherham grooming gang scandal...
i'd love to get my hands on one of those *****...

a former prisoner officer talking to a former
chemistry student... seriously... those organic chemistry
schematics of electron migration were a bit pointless:
until i realised: they showed me loopholes in
the language... call it the rearrangement of vowels
and consonants... absolutely ridiculous:
since all theory and very little practice...

oh sure... the PLATOON was there...
i started it calling it SLOW-IQ from cousin-*******...
which is true... you have to start calling out
taboos at some point...
i mean: these guys were slow...
Ha-HMED! hark the H... draw a longer breath
and forget that the R was ever associated with a trill
of a rattlesnake...
oh sure... we get sold that puny story-detail
of low testosterone levels in European men....
these days? i was signing them in...
i had to ask 2 or 3 times for them to repeat their names:
they spoke their names so delicately
i couldn't understand them...
and i'm the one who picks up sounds...
my auditory hallucinations sometimes speak louder
than these people, "these people"...

i checked up on some theory...
the length ratio of the index finger to the ring finger...
i look at my left hand... then at my right hand...
oh **** me... no wonder...
i'm a *******... a promiscuous *******...
my ring finger is much longer than my index finger:
much longer on my left hand than my right hand...
ergo? a shorter index finger implies higher levels
of testosterone...
   am i to be, now, what? self-congratulatory...
no... it's intrinsic ontology: i can't help what i am...
just like i can't help with being a raw-red Caucasian
in mentality that's deviant from the British-compact
model...

i cleaned the house in the morning really focusing
on repeating the song My Friends by
the Red Hot Chilli Peppers...
hey... listen... if these ******* have the audacity to
march in with their mosques... blow themselves up for
no grand attaching reason to further each and every one
of our plights: again... life isn't that terrible...
reality isn't unshakeable: unmoveable...
only people unto people make this life difficult:
usually out of complacency... laziness...
a solipsism that doesn't begin to factor in a fact
that solipsism could be a theory: a testing ground
of understanding autism...

but i abhor these Oxford shifts...
i leave them spent... the egress is magic though...
i'm more time-wasting than time-investing...
i still don't understand how inflation works
and i still don't understand why deflation doesn't exist...
the worth of goods increases:
but the method of producing these goods stays
the same... i have to admit...
i'm thinking about going out of my comfort zone...
looking into the thinking of economists
and not philosophers...
after all, my name was once allocated
to one famous tax-collector...
                     mind you: i like thinking about money...
not that i have a stash of it...
just enough to enjoy thinking about it...
i like thinking about money because i don't think
about spending it like most people do:
like most people who spend it frivolously and therefore
don't have enough of it and therefore
are in debt: these people are in debt because
they spend money on credit...
i have money, because i spend money on debit...

i couldn't never allow myself to accept a credit based
system of expenditures...
it made no sense to me: sure, you have more protection
using a credit card than a debit card...
after all the current system focuses more on creditors
than it does on debtors... then again: like for like...
you need less creditors than debtors:
you actually require more people in debt than
those willing to provide credit...
but then there are people like me who hyper-focus
on an earning-spending dynamic who
avoid building up too much credit:
by not building too much credit...
you can't exactly build up your... "debit score rating":
there's no "debit score" rating...
money turns into water...
you behave like your wallet if a dam...
that's a "metaphor" for savings and expenditure...

it's impossible for me to spend on credit...
why? i can't earn on credit:
well... i can earn on credit of my performance:
but that's a different sort of credit:
it's a credit i earn... rather than spend...
but i spend exclusively on debit...
on the basis of a debt i'm owned for my work...
i like money...
in philosophy there's that scared word: THING...
and NOTHING...
in economics there's that word too: MONEY...
and NO-MONEY...
oddly enough nothing is a categorised as a pronoun
while thing is categorised as a noun...
ergo? money is a noun and no-money
is a pronoun...

                    it's not even about being poor...
broke-***... it's about having enough money to do...
whatever the hell you want...
without a co-dependant... no woman: no children...
i can ******* from a shift... ask to be dropped
off at a petrol station... rather than the usual pick-up
spot... buy a £3 platter of sushi...
three ciders... a 10 packet of cigarettes...
eat... smoke a cigarette... then take at least two
bottles of cider dancing into the night...
i used to love swimming... now? if it's not cycling
it's walking... esp. come the night...

there's nothing quiet like it...
i hate these Oxford shifts... if it wasn't for the humour
i don't think i would have ever bothered...
focus on perception...
it's all about the TILT of the EARTH...
from the winter months and the summer months...
i was admiring the night thinking about
just that... this one... constellation...
in the summer months she's up-close...
you can see her enlarged (yeah?
things in English are generally asexual...
but you can ascribe *** to them...
like in most sensible tongues of the European
continent, there can be a sense of
the masculine and the feminine in nouns...
there's no need for gender-neutral pronouns...
there can exist gender-provocative nouns...
constellations are feminine)

   right... so there's this one jaw-dropper
of a constellation...
it's massive in the summer-time...
can't miss it... what the naked eye can't miss:
the mind ought to write about...

you know the constellation i'm talking about:
during the summer months it's enlarged...
but during the winter months it's squeezed into
its compact representation:
it's the same ******* constellation...
but since the earth is tilted on its axis...
that tilt generates a "disparity" of vision...
it's microscopically viewed in the summer months
and macroscopically viewed in the winter
months... when you sometimes walk the night
streets... tilt your head left to right...
and watch a bonanza of frost settling on the pavement
like it might be the glitter of paparazzi's cameras
eventing a strobe light effect of frost
glitter paving your honoured walk back
to a cold bed where only you or perhaps a cat might
be sleeping in...

no... it's not the constellation of cancer:
it's the constellation of scorpio:

                    •
                •
            •

­                   •
                      •
                          .
           ­                                  •

    •

that's most definitely a scorpion...
the tail... the torso... and the two pincers
extending...
but i'm not referring to the constellation
of scorpio... i'm refferering
to...the trapezium with a tail...

the big and little wheelbarrow constellation are
one and the same...


                        •


                                                                ­            •
                                            •


                                                 •                  •


it just depends on how the earth tilts...
call it her the little and big wheelbarrow...
microscopic in the realm of summer:
macroscopic in the realm of winter...
not a rhombus with a tail?
and what about the constellation of
scorpio...

three days by: Jane's Addiction...
always with the bass guitar that gets me...
now admire the tilt of the earth as this one constellation
all the same moves in and out to to an even greater
focus... "flat earth" expert as myself
ought to know... knowing one's own geometrics of
not having the luxury of parodying
movements that
demand the rigours of traffic...
such is a man's luxury of trailing behind night...
trailing behind dreams:
behind dreaming...
such is this world: that affords me so much
luxury... so little mediocracy...
            
tonight i brought back an acorn...
no... i wish i brought back an albino mulberry...
then again: i wish i brought back an oak conker...
but i prefer acorns more...
those hatted pebbles... oak? chestnut...
a corn that's not corns... that's acorn?
conker then... no? a nut with thoughts of
pirate X-marks-the-spot-chests?!
etymological tested grounds of frequented nouns...
hammer... table... mosquito...
            sun and moon...
                        sun as a he and moon:
although however stressed asexually: will be a she
in Ing-Leash.
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
   to the seminal instance
   whence spermatozoa
   (from profuse *******) beget

the miraculous propensity
   to procreate despite the steep odds
   female fertility fosters potential impregnation
   fusing the hereditary debt

of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
   fueling fancy free footloose fornication
   prior to seminal fertilization union
   sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with

   diametrically opposed exultant sensations
   (biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
   et cetera) seismic shocks inject  
when deliberate intent arises to disregard

   applying prophylactics choice
   plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
   bastes the "cooking" egg omelette  

which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
   first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
   of webbed world de jure upon
   consummating that most miraculous deed

necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
   from messy menstrual cycle
   she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
   in the euphoric family, she instinctually
   abides prenatal signals that heed

without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
   pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
   ineluctably, kinesthetically
   lectured by elder, especially cast

in thee reel life drama, that nine months
   til offspring utters initial whimper
   elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing

   to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
   when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably

   (perhaps colicky infant)
   gets first dibs to suckle,
   which round the clock nursing
   consumes moments many vast.
Desmond the poet Sep 2017
Oh, you seed of mankind.
You who reside in the same Coloured white *****.
You carry the ***-determining chromosome.
Before union with female egg, human colour was same.
After fertilization, emerged different coloured humans.

Oh melanin, you who determine our skin colour.
You went as far as differentiating our hair colour.
What have you done?
Are you to blame for racial discrimination?
Maybe blame theory of evolution.

Oh no I blame you mankind.
God gave men brains of a kind.
The kind, that knows wrong from right.
In the image of God, mankind was created.
Colour was not restricted.

I urge mankind across all racial groups.
A plead to all *** groups.

There’s more to what you see in the mirror.
It was microscopically a seed within white *****.
We might differ racially, men and women.
We came from same coloured seed.
The presence of Wonthelimar, is invisible before Borker but epically static in his balustrade, and in all the rings that chorally wore them for each patronage of the general Diádoco Seleucus examining him next to him, even more having betrayed the Hellenic legacy, by an orthodox Hellenic one in the disappearance of Alexander the Great in Babylon, without knowing that he had been rescued by Wonthelimar, surpassing the limits of the rings of stefánes Íbix, or Hoops of ibex, like nano kvantikoí daktýlioi, Nano-Quantum Ring auguring sensitize the dermis and its carpal phalanges. From the intertestamental, such as in Vóreios, here passages from the Old Testament are explored that Say...: “The temple that was the only legitimate sanctuary of the Israelite people contained within it the Ark of the Covenant, a golden altar, and candlesticks of the same metal., a table with sacred loaves and other utensils used to carry out the worship of the god Yahveh. It was located on the esplanade of Mount Moriá, in the city of Jerusalem, possibly where the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque are located. From this class the schismatics of ancient Christianity and orthodox Judaic derive a prioris, separating one from the other. Previously this was detonated due to the undivided troops of the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II, who destroyed it in 586 BC, also taking captives a large part of the inhabitants of the Kingdom of Judah, to Mesopotamia, leading to the exile and captivity of the Hebrews in Babylon.

Judicious Borker of this premonition takes the Ibic Rings and selects one of them to unite with the first Zefian Arrow, as nano Kvantikoí Daktýlioi, quantum Nano-ring, to occur in future similar events, avoiding invasions that cause looting and destruction of the temple to be built on Patmos. Nano-scales for Borker's nanotechnological conception, and estimates of threats of invasions and climatic changes, in one billion (109) and one billionth (10-9). In a meter there are one billion nanometers or, in other words, a nanometer is one-billionth of a meter. For those who will have to configure the dimensions of the Mandragoron "Temple of Vernarth" with carbon atoms, the support will be made in chemical units for the re-conception of nature, and its two or three-dimensional networks. The nanotubes with 60 carbons, distributed in 20 hexagons and 12 pentagons, according to the geometric patterns of the cellular scale, in the conformation of the Hexagonal Primogeniture, being in this way concealed by the Ibic Rings for each linear meter, and cubic. Traced by a nanometer which is one-billionth of a meter. Here the borer beetles will trap the fungi and displace the viruses geometrically from the beams of the Icosahedrons.

Says Borker: “On these stigmatized coal platforms the mineral has been activated, yes…! In the same dioxide, the twenty faces of the icosahedrons, convex or concave. Yes…! The twenty faces of the icosahedrons are equilateral and congruent triangles, equal to each other; the icosahedron is convex and is called regular, being then one of the so-called Platonic solids”

The ranks of Falangists moved triangularly in multiple directions, to reach the Austral del Nótos de Borker, thus they would form the magical vectors of the polyhedron internally, triangulating at the tip of the ram that carries an illustrious triangular phalanx, opening with its prop the areas vulnerable, to consolidate the buttress of the façade; the Áullos Kosmos, and pay homage to the apse that was filled with rejoicing.

Sones of the philosopher Plato made them regular or perfect in convex polyhedral, such that on all their faces regular and equal polygons were made, and in all solid angles also equal. From this boulevard, the theology of Vernarth and Alexander the Great, such a professor and Platonic guide, will follow towards nomenclatures of nano-structures that affirm the volume and structure of the central sections of the radier, and its foundation bases shielded by the icosahedrons in the nanotechnological scale, having physical material cells, for adaptation of structural changes and their environment.

The volume will be adapted microscopically, to analyze small particles with the return of the fourth arrow or Tetra Sagita of Zefian, absorbing nutrients and discarding the environmental threats based on carbon dioxide, to make a limiting membrane beauty, which moderates the nanoparticles that they were developing the borer beetles. The solidity of the partitions and walls will have the exact proportion of the nanomaterials, to adapt to the general area of the Mandragoron Nótos, which will ooze the surpluses due to the porosities, towards a volume highly resistant to invasions of limestone nanomaterials, and boulders that are made from the flow of the buttress of the apse that rises towards Aorion. The interior and exterior faces will be supplements of prayers of Prochoro, in didactics that will shield with the Antiphons Benedictus, and the hive of Plato's Icosahedrons, becoming a consular material organism, and solid in interstices or leftovers from the feces of the Borers, until pasting and to arrive at the volume of the polyhedron, and its twenty faces pointing towards the physiognomy of the boulevard, tracing the general volume of the Mandragoron, and intercommunicating the supporting quantum and its theological harmony.

Borker says: “if organic cells operate in homage and in larger multicellular fields, here are the nanoparticles, in larger fields of fiato, and in the slides that will recirculate in favor of the Mandragoron throat, and in the carbon nanotubes, essential elements of the biosphere and useful layers of life that retrace the rest. There will be 20 linear meters in the area that lavishes the width and height, the projection of this nanotechnology scale, will make a three-dimensional shape and a large voluminous serial in the Austral Nótos.
Borker's Nótos
hollobee Jul 2014
I tried to make pasta salad for dinner
but my "healthy" pasta was spoiled.
The only little critters known to man that are able to microscopically sneak in to prepackaged wheat have won again.
So I settled.

I figured I'd make up for my starchy negativity by using "veganaise",
but,
of course,
it tumbled out of the fridge that day in my absence
And shattered.
....So I settled.

Cleaning the kitchen behind my
half-satisfying
yet
I- ate-too-much-of it anyway
meal shattered my glass across the tile,
Persistent tiny shards
just jutting from the grout
like my bruised confidence after trying to clean my soul
of the filth that holds me hostage.

As of today I've gone without car insurance for a month
I've been absent from school
because my attendance is hard-wired to my lack of a
functioning.....wallet.

I got caught in the rain this evening
wondering how long I've got before defeat
catches me by more than a single strand hair,
drowning me in a thunderstorm of
uncontrollable emotion,
pattering and piercing  my consciousness so hard
that when I finally got indoors,
I approached my filth with open arms of surrender--
soaked,
sitting,
And settled.
Since the omens of Wontehlimar, the linamen before Borker became reigning, for the static balustrade that will surround the Megaron, where all the Ibicos rings will be enlisted chorally by the patronage of the Hellenic orthodox legacy of Alexander the Great after he was rescued by Wonthelimar from Babylon, and finally, take you to your physical and spiritual shelter. The eruv of the Nótos was demarcated, surpassing the limits of the rings of stefánes Íbix, or Hoops of ibix, like nano kvantikoí daktýlioi, Nano-Quantum Ring auguring sensitize the dermis and its carpal phalanges. From the intertestamental, such as in Vóreios, passages from the Old Testament are explored here that says…: “The temple that was the only legitimate sanctuary of the Israelite people contained within it the Ark of the Covenant, a golden altar, and candlesticks of the same metal. , a table with sacred loaves and other utensils used to carry out the worship of the god Yahveh. It was located on the esplanade of Mount Moriá, in the city of Jerusalem, possibly where the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque are located ”. From this dome the larnax of the Great Macedonian, apriorism, will derive into the schismatics of ancient Christianity and orthodox Judaism, separating from each other, after the fall of the second temple. Of this class and previously this was detonated due to the undivided troops of the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II, who destroyed it in 586 BC, also taking captives a large part of the inhabitants of the Kingdom of Judah, to Mesopotamia, giving rise to the exile and captivity of the Hebrews in Babylon. A reflective Borker of this premonition, he takes the Ibics Rings and selects one of them to unite them with the first Zefian Arrow, as nano Kvantikoí Daktýlioi, quantum Nano-ring, to ensue in future similar events, avoiding invasions that cause looting and destruction. of the temple to be built on Patmos. Nano-scales for Borker's nanotechnological conception, and estimates of threats of invasions and climatic changes, in one billion (109) and one billionth (10-9). In a meter there are one billion nanometers or, in other words, a nanometer is one-billionth of a meter. For those who will have to configure the dimensions of the Mandragoron "Temple of Vernarth" with carbon atoms that will forge the support in chemical units for the re-conception of nature, and its two- or three-dimensional networks. Being immanent and masterful, the nanotubes with 60 carbons distributed in 20 hexagons and 12 pentagons, according to the geometric patterns of the cellular scale, in the conformation of the Hexagonal Primogeniture, thus being concealed by the Ibics Rings for each linear meter, and cubic traced by a nanometer which is one-billionth of a meter. Here the borer beetles will catch all the ambrosiella ceratocystidaceae fungi and will displace the virals in a calculated manner from the beams of the Icosahedron.

The ranks of Falangists moved triangularly in multiple directions, to reach the Austral del Nótos de Borker, thus they would form the magical vectors of the polyhedron internally, triangulating at the tip of the ram that carries an illustrious triangular phalanx, opening the areas weak, to consolidate the buttress of the façade; the Áullos Kósmos, and pay homage to the apse that was filled with rejoicing. Sones of the philosopher Plato, made them regular or perfect in convex polyhedra, as in all their faces where regular and equal polygons were made, with holistic solid angles also equal. From this boulevard, the theology of Vernarth and Alexander the Great, fully professor and of Platonic pattern, will follow, making nomenclatures of nanostructures that affirm the volume and structure of the central sections of the radier, and its foundation bases shielded by the icosahedron in the scale nanotechnology, having physical material cells, for adaptation of structural changes and their environment.

The bulk will adapt microscopically, to analyze small particles with the return of the fourth arrow or Tetra Sagita of Zefian, absorbing nutrients and discarding environmental threats based on carbon dioxide, to make a limiting membrane beauty, which moderates the nanoparticles that were developing. borer beetles. The solidity of the partitions and walls will have the exact proportion of the nanomaterials, to adapt to the general area of the Mandragoron Nótos, which will ooze the surpluses due to the porosities, towards a volume highly resistant to invasions of limestone nanomaterials, and stony grounds that will be elaborated from the flow of the buttress of the apse that rose towards Aorion. The interior and exterior faces will be supplements of prayers of Prochoro, in didactics that will shield with the Antiphons Benedictus, and the hive of Plato's Icosahedron, becoming a consular material organism, and solid in interstices or leftovers from the faeces of the Borers, until pasting and reach the volume of the polyhedron, and its twenty faces pointing towards the physiognomy of the boulevard, tracing the general volume of the Mandragoron, and intercommunicating the supporting quantum and its post-Byzantine Greek patristic theological harmony, passing through vectors of time that run through the pre and post of temporality of the Invisible Eclectic Portal, with remarkable poles and penumbras of the contemplative orb as seven steps of liberation, and as a manumission of the wheel of time forward, where Hermes will bind him with serpents to a fiery wheel that will spin without ceasing, stopping the naivete of the 7 donkeys, and their autonomy of self-consciousness, crushing each serpent with their hooves.

Says Borker: “if the organic cells operate with homage and with greater multicellular fields, here are the nanoparticles, in greater fields of fiatto, and in the slides that will recirculate in favor of the Mandragoron throat, and in the essential carbon nanotubes elements of the biosphere and useful layers of life that roll back the rest. There will be 20 linear meters in the area that lavishes the width and height, the projection of this scale of nanotechnology, will make a three-dimensional shape and a great plump serial in the Nótos Austral ”Vernarth's purging dimension, made him materialize at times and laugh out loud because he knew that everyone who was with him loved him! , and from this fraction of faith, the Angel Raphael diagnoses them bread with archangelic essence; herb with great healing powers, especially in the dimension of the eclectic portal that allowed Vernarth to concern himself with material living beings.

Definitely the second step of consolidation of the Megaron was established in the linear from the seven donkeys eagerly left it, as likely masons and cabinetmakers who worked together with the Hexagonal Primogeniture. From this moment everything begins to have an inter-dimensional aspect, from the Invisible Eclectic Portal to the majestic geodesy and orography of this temple, which incorporated everyone for a charitable epiphany together with everyone in the Profitis Ilias, which was already crowned as the cusp Spiritual World of the Vernarthian Eclectic.
Áullos Kósmos II
I wish people were smarter
And even with this singular declaration you bristle
Cocked head, tense claws digging into air or  own thighs
Ready on the defense
So I prepare to have “Pretentious Snob” branded onto my forehead
The metal meeting the fore of my skull
Don't act as  you would do otherwise
I can see you dipping your tool into the fire,
Ready to reveal glowing edges
Beneath an illuminated face

But I stand by that which I have said before,
I wish people were smarter
That you would stop gossiping over her scandal
That you would instead remark on how scandals change the world so microscopically.
That you would attempt to trace the origins of gossip
That you would see the irony of wanting to know everything
about a person
if only from another mouth
But you don't even bother to entertain such ideas
And so I stand on stage alone, audience-nil

I wish people were smarter
So that when I have a new thought
Discussion and open ears sit down at my table
Rather than me waiting for the hostess to (never) call my name
Left to hear only the sound of eyes rolling in your well-oiled sockets
and a chorus of
“There she goes again”
Why do you refuse to come with me?
You are invited
And if ever there is a Bitterman, party of one
It is I, trying to discuss the concept of originality
(As in does it exist among influence)
While you chat of liking songs only for the good beat
(It's got something, I don't know what it is)

I do try.
That is to listen to incessant conversations about spats and fights
In truth they bore me so!
All with the same ending
Emotions stuck on the same unmoving clock hand
Of never change

You may have an excuse
Perhaps you find an analysis of Harold Bloom exhausting
Or write it off as too like school
Well I do like school
And thinking
And questioning
And wondering

And so I wonder
if you aren't exploring such prospects
What on earth are you doing?
It seems so mundane to act otherwise
We all seek to fight against boredom
Or so we claim
Perhaps we are in different arenas

Maybe the simplest of messages is the most clear
To face branding or to avoid:
I wish people were smarter
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
   to the seminal instance
   whence spermatozoa
   (from profuse *******) beget

the miraculous propensity
   to procreate despite the steep odds
   female fertility fosters potential impregnation
   fusing the hereditary debt

of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
   fueling fancy free footloose fornication
   prior to seminal fertilization union
   sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with

   diametrically opposed exultant sensations
   (biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
   et cetera) seismic shocks inject  
when deliberate intent arises to disregard

   applying prophylactics choice
   plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
   bastes the "cooking" egg omelette  

which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
   first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
   of webbed world de jure upon
   consummating that most miraculous deed

necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
   from messy menstrual cycle
   she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
   in the euphoric family, she instinctually
   abides prenatal signals that heed

without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
   pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
   ineluctably, kinesthetically
   lectured by elder, especially cast

in thee reel life drama, that nine months
   til offspring utters initial whimper
   elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing

   to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
   when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably

   (perhaps colicky infant)
   gets first dibs to suckle,
   which round the clock nursing
   consumes moments many vast.
beth winters Nov 2010
wahid.* don't spread yourself between my thighs, and expect my breath to come in gasps because i forgot your name. sprawl on a bed and weep for nothing, i won't wipe your tears.

ith-nain. jilted lovers are the worst kind, don't tell me about the romance of a broken heart when you don't have one to break. don't spin beautiful tales with perfect grammar that follow a flaxen haired princess from a tower into the jaws of a dragon.

thalatha. a cocked hat, painted coal black, some unidentifiable baseball team inscribed on the the front with mercerized cotton.

arba'a. don't take your ears in my hands and close my mouth slowly, i want my words to leak all down your clothes and stain your skin and carve me into every pore, microscopically and geometrically. i want to **** your soul to a hell that doesn't exist, slice your anima into three point five inch wide pieces and strew them across my palm, counting your molecules of existence with glee, don't stop me.
day seven; four turnoffs.

the italicized words are one through four in arabian. :)
Alyssa Underwood Oct 2022
Brothers and sisters in Christ, would we look at Jesus hanging on the cross in excruciating torment, gasping for every agonizing breath, pierced through, covered in blood and bearing our offenders' sin along with ours, only to say, "It isn't enough! It is NOT finished. There is still more to be accomplished, a greater payment yet to be rendered. You did not complete the work or satisfy the debt!"...?

For here is the thing: if we don't believe that His sacrifice was enough to sufficiently pay the debt for everything they have done to us then how can we ever possibly believe it was enough to pay for all we have done to Him? And if we don't believe that then how can we be saved?

This is certainly not to say that the process of working through all the issues of forgiveness is not an extremely steep and difficult climb or that it does not take time. It is! It does! Sometimes it takes years to reach the top, where we are completely set free from the pain and emotional struggle of it. But the choice to forgive, the decision to actually begin the process and step onto the path is not optional for any true disciple of Jesus Christ, for He has clearly called us all to take up our cross and die daily and to count ourselves dead to sin already. We have been commanded and empowered by Him to forgive, and He Himself will work it fully in and through us if we will only yield to Him.

But when we refuse to forgive, we are only digging through the trash heap and holding ourselves prisoner within it, yet somehow convinced we will find gold there. Do we not understand how ludicrous this is? We are beloved and royal children living as self-defeating street urchins—fists up, ready for a fight and buried up to our necks in a back-alley dumpster looking for rotten scraps. The King is calling, "Come out of there, beloved child! Come home to Me and feast!" But we respond, "No, not yet! There are still more *****, decaying bags in here to scavenge through. I haven't checked that dark, rat-invested corner yet. There may be something good in there for me!" What?! Are we insane? Stop digging, let go of the bag, let Him lift you once and for all out of the dumpster and come home! Realize who you are and Whose you are!

Authentic and heart-changing forgiveness begins when we look honestly and humbly at the offense, call it what it is without minimizing it or making excuses for it, feel the full weight of the painful debt incurred against us by the offender, realize that it is simply not within his power or means to ever sufficiently pay us back in a way that could restore us to wholeness (even if he desperately wanted to), and then look fully to Jesus, trusting Him to bear the entire weight of it for us and to provide complete payment for all of the damages done to us.

It comes when we decide to give the debt 'note' fully over to Him, transferring it to Him, like a mortgage company transferring (for their own protection and profit) a high-risk house note to a different lender and thus releasing the debtor from any further obligation to re-pay us, breaking the chains of our previous expectations off of him and putting them all onto Christ. And when we do, we will find that in the transfer we come out far richer than we were before the offense was even made and the debt ever incurred.

In forgiveness we have to both lay down something and take up something, for our heart refuses to ever walk away with nothing to cling to. We have to hand our offender's heavy debt completely over to the One Who willingly carried it on Himself, along with every one of our own sins and sorrows, all the way to the cross, nailing it there and paying it in full, and then we have to receive afresh the gift of His infinite fullness in exchange.

With every offense (small or great) there arises a subsequent path of forgiveness. The greater the offense, the steeper and longer the climb to get to the end; but the steeper and longer the climb, the more spectacular and rare the views along the way and from the top. Whenever someone hurts us, we can either stay in the barren valley with the offense, miserably imprisoned by it and trying hard to keep our offender chained to it as well, or we can kick loose the chains and set out on the less-traveled mountain trail leading to freedom, healing and rest. The trailhead is the cross, and Jesus is waiting to meet us there. All we have to do is take the first step onto the trail and begin to walk it with Him as our intimate Companion and determine (and keep daily determining) to stay on it as long as it takes and one step at a time with Him as our faithful Guide, for He will certainly lead us all the way to the summit.

And we will certainly need an all-powerful, all-knowing and ever-present Guide on such an adventurous trek, as this trail is ever-winding, full of dangerous switchbacks, difficult ascents and narrow, hidden passes; but the scenery will be breathtaking and the fellowship life-changing. As we travel further and higher our perspective will dramatically change along the way, and the offense back down in the valley will become smaller and smaller in the distance until we can barely make out more than a shadow of it for all of the beauty surrounding and enfolding us. It is not necessarily that the memory of it will ever completely be forgotten so much as it will be brilliantly reframed by an exceedingly better and higher view.

At the end of the trail there lies a secret alpine garden, lush with various kinds of healing fruit that rarely grow ripe on the lower slopes of the mountains and do not grow at all in the valley of unforgiveness. Their taste, fragrance and restorative powers are beyond anything that might be understood or even imagined by those who have never dared nor sensed the need to venture any further than the foothills. Nevertheless, the garden is always open and the fruit readily available to any and all who would choose to make the glorious journey together with their LORD...and none who do will ever be sorry they came.

So why do we so often struggle to do it?

I think when we look honestly and microscopically at hindrances to forgiveness it is idolatry that stands out as the most culpable suspect. For when we forget that everything we need and most desire is found in Christ and that everything we have comes from His loving, wise and faithful hand and then someone else fails to give to us what we are so firmly convinced we need from them or takes from us what we are so sure we require, it is easy to feel justified in withholding from them our complete pardon.

It is idolatry as well which blinds us from seeing how deeply and desperately we ourselves depend on God's mercy. For when anything becomes more important to us than intimacy with Christ, we are quick to overlook our own grievous impediments to that intimacy and therefore quick to overlook Christ's unequivocal command to forgive as we have been forgiven. So then we cannot fairly approach forgiveness without humbly keeping ever before us the awareness of our own stubbornly idolatrous tendencies which seem to be always lurking under every prickly bush.

Another common but still idolatrous stumbling block is our failure to grasp and cherish God's absolute sovereignty over us, which then causes us to unduly credit our offenders with power they do not actually have—the power to ruin our lives—and to mistakenly think that by refusing to forgive we can somehow regain from them the stolen upper hand, either by trying to pay them back with evil or by trying to force them to pay us back with good, emotionally holding them prisoner and refusing to unlock the door until we have sufficiently punished them or until they have sufficiently 'blessed' us. This is a prideful self-worship which pre-supposes that our lives and their avenging are best and most safely kept in the control of our own hands and that we are entitled to more 'good' than God Himself is willing to bestow on us. It is also a dangerous exalting of others which wrongly assumes that they have within themselves the ability to grant us enough 'good' to ever fully settle their deficit account and satisfy our wounded hearts.

When we forget who we are and all we have in Christ, idolatry can also lead us into a more subtle, less honest and in some ways more damaging form of unforgiveness, one that often masquerades convincingly for a time as forgiveness but is far from the real thing. For if our offender himself is the idol whose love and approval we think we cannot live without we may be very quick to make shallow, insincere and enabling offerings to him, trying desperately to quell any conflict and to ingratiate ourselves to him (wanting to retain peace with him at any cost so that we might retain a piece of him and determining to think well of him in the hope that he might think well of us). We will call it forgiveness and think it truly is but wonder why the issue never seems to be quite settled in our heart, why he never seems to be able to meet the standard of the 'high place' on which we have erected him and why we always seem to be trying to charge his offenses against us to everyone else's account.

As long as our 'pardon' is rooted in fear of rejection, resentment and abandonment (or in any other insecure human emotion), it cannot qualify as genuine forgiveness or obedience to Christ and therefore cannot bring any measure of real peace or lasting resolution to our hearts or to the relationship. It will only keep us locked up within our own limited and easily drained ability to love, suffocating both ourself and our offender, causing resentment on both sides and robbing us of the joy of entering into a deeper love that can only come from trusting in and drawing upon the overflowing fountain of Christ's love. True forgiveness will always extend out of that flow of intimacy with Him and out of genuine worship of Him, for we can only walk like Him when we walk closely with Him and crave Him above all else.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Also it should be noted that forgiveness is not the same as reconciliation. Forgiveness of an offender depends only on your relationship with the LORD. But true reconciliation with an offender is very much dependent on their repentance. But whether or not they ever repent, whether or not we ever find true reconciling peace and healing WITH them, we can find peace about them and love them from a distance, as we let Jesus heal us on that journey and fill us with His love, peace and joy.
Waverly Jan 2012
I hate going
to clubs
where people just stand around
with beers in their hands,
laughing and sleezing
under the revolving eye
of the strobe sun.

I gotta dance on a girl.

I gotta feel her hips
underneath a velvet miniskirt;
her legs
all soft
and microscopically
prickly.
SG Jun 2010
Unfolding flowers, grasping, slipping through the future’s mist
The weights of fear and experience worn on a wrist

A touch, smooth yet microscopically rough, transfers words
Like a ****** postcard with postage stamps worn on a wrist

A god’s sculpture, a child’s toy, and scientist’s creation, a trinket –
The rust of effort and tears worn on a wrist

Wet from lake water, dried on a dock, then wet again by grassy dew,
Friend’s woven strings warmed by the sun worn on a wrist

Like museum displays, filaments suspended through champagne and handshakes
Everlasting elegance worn on a wrist

Twisting and folding, the doorways to gentle kindness and flinching pain
Choices and reactions worn on a wrist

Strings that pull with fist’s enclosure, blue laces act as highways beneath glazed skin
Flip over hands to a weak exposure worn on a wrist

Windows open on a Wednesday, a gaze across the room
27 bodies rising and falling
A look left – a look down – hair cascading:
Secrets and apologies worn on my wrist.
Don't worry, I'm not a cutter. I just find the delicacy and machinery of a wrist to be quite amazing. I wrote this poem for a school English assignment.
Ann Beaver Jul 2013
When I was born
they cut off my tongue,
so I spoke in colors.
Spitting red in my father's face:
an invisible vapor
lingering a decade or two.
I tried washing it out with blue
and black
smelling of tar pit tantrums
it oozed microscopically from my gums.
Generating sums
of recycled metals
gray and solid crushing my body.
I licked in silver whispers
gold drips on my seat.

I keep repeating
a staccato pleading purple
please pay
in love.
Please stay
said with one white cloud above.
Aquinas Sep 2014
A silent blue engulfs the metallic body that I lay in
I'm slumped against the side of the door, gazing at the minuscule droplets microscopically reflecting my stare
Rumbles and mumbles tumble through the clouds like badly kept secrets fan faring with a flash of purple lightning

My body is filled with nostalgia as my father cranks up the Yankee game on the century old automobile radio
My mother conks out, snoring louder than a booming stereo at a high school football game

These are the rides I like to remember
When no one is yelling
Or crying
Plastering smiles across their faces when hidden discomfort is making their nerves shake violently
Everything is quiet
But the white noise speaks more words than I ever will
Waiting for the sun,
Blazon badge across a foreign world
A morning stand to, bringing a drop of sweat
Perfectly still, its my only movement
Traveling down, contours of eyes
Impatiently watching an alien landscape

They came from somewhere else
An known place, far in space
Attacked from out of the sun
Decimating cities, structures, life
Pumping chemical nightmares from their ships
Driving the elderly and children insane

Their ships were drones, robotic
Faces unseen, voices unheard
But only at first, and only in dreams
Populating our oceans, broke eco
Processing, harvesting, drinking all life
Like Leviathan devouring life


Massive ships, they sunk deep
More, their ships came,
Some we shot, falling from the sky
Crashing to Earth in massive comets
Of oranges, yellows, and blues
Scarring cities, farmland and lives

Others, tentacled, weaponed and fantastic
Crawled up our beaches, taking cities, crushing homes
Some tiny, unseen, breathed in
Feasting on flesh, multiplying
Liquifing, microscopically treacherous
Life by the millions, blinking out like strobe

Slowly we fought; humanity: nature of war
Learning to protect, learning to defend
Small thousands remained, I think they forgot
Maybe this planet, had grown too cold
We made weapons, developed this war
Brought ourselves back

We reached for the stars,
Reaching for new suns
We found them again,
Decided to wipe them from space
One planet at a time,
Each system in a row

But for the soldier's life
This dirt, this planet, this place
Its boredom and waiting
Burning suns
Freezing wastes
Always just another taste
Katherine Grimm May 2014
We are everywhere we have ever been.
We leave ourselves behind

Thoughts
      Words
               Flesh
               ­       Skin
                           Hair
                                 Sweat
                                         Oil
Traces immeasurably small, permanent
We are in the cracks between floorboards
Smeared onto walls. Stressed into upholstery.
We are microscopically ever present. There is no getting rid of us.
Breaking down. Rotting out of our casings.
Daily decomposing.

Your DNA fills your home. Every place you have ever visited.
Let this be a comfort.
2012
that will neither revolutionize whorled wide web,
   nor pollinate like fecund human loam
viz - it mine neurological nuances here
   within Schwenksville, Pennsylvania,

   my present home,
town pulsating with
   so called "butterfly effect" ineluctably
fluttering microscopically
   like dust motes or invisible foam

(bell leave me) metamorphosed
   mental whim, within cranial dome
(in valise case body electric)
   covered in 50 + nine slim shades
   of gray streaked brown dread fully medium
   length lockets i rarely comb,

   boot food for thought to set literary stage
before affixing my poetic missive -
   from this word wrangler,
   hoof hinds himself dumbfounded

   at **** bang of years cuz - just yesterday
   aye remembered being a boy,
   now i yam more than
   half a century since birth didst age.

without further ado
i offer literary missives enclosed
   within this body politic spooked
   me playful teenage inner child goes "boo"
fur ye to ponder and brew

of his small bread box sized lil motley crue
two daughters due
tee flapped wings, and flew the coop
whereby aye resemble offspring hybrid
   ostrich crossed with an emu,

whose deux progeny sired from personal
   super reproductive goo
swimming swiftly in
   harried styled, swiftly taylor made
   viscous tailored tulle lord hue

carrying miniature bin - laden
   genetic heritage predominantly Jew
wish with one late uncle Sam,
   who preferred to be called cra debt lou
who himself happened to be,

   a milch cow frequent moo
wing for bare naked lady gaga friend
   winnie mandy della pooh,
which induced inxs doth rue
what comprises Darwinian

   Origin of Species to be true
evolutionary biologists versus
   Bible thumping creationists claim
   with tangible proof as their view
perchance includes you
this chimp bull leaves humans
   originated from primate zoo.

NOW **** THE MOMENT TO PREPARE TO SCRUTINIZE
MY WRITTEN ATTEMPT AND HOPE MY OFFERTORY
DISTINCT FROM OTHER GALS N GUYS.

thankful to enjoy genesis of thoughts
from whence doth spring germ
of an idea, that either takes root
(exhibiting potential to live with
arms strong) when just a tender

vulnerable shoot (ephemeral as notes
issuing from a magic flute)
within fifty plus shades of gray matter
per this fifty plus year ole coot?

This need dull in haste tack
search for source that gave rise
per process to enable **** sapiens
to think doth nag horse sense
of this poet as he initially digs shallow,

yet sometimes forced to spelunk
into crawl space narrow and shallow,
or shine laser focus into a chasm
teetering on brink (hunting down

gamesome elusive dodging catlike whims)
out pace readied whorled wide net
to capture alive agile rat fink unseen
quiet as a mouse notion gives hardy fellow
(quite a chase) scurrying thru micro
cosmic burrow of Manhattan skyscrapers

at a blink, said quarry vanishes
without a trace just as quick mental cogs
and wheels generated riveting link
connecting bot sized tinker toys pinging

within cerebral cortex appearing random
as nonsequiturs conscious kinks via
distracting ability to latch onto awesome
fleeting mindspace inducing minor frustration
at lack of ability to nab (albeit painlessly)

zinc shimmering insight cognizant ability
likened to ode to Grecian urn vase frieze
depicting ever closely captured thought
process, cuz lifespan shorter than a wink
king third eye blind comfortably numb beatle browser.
Though aye haint no athlete, nor a cosmopolitan mwm,
this bloke dislikes capricious adrenaline rush
to prove without a doubt
at least to whomever announced
to display eye popping, mouth watering,

nose twitching a notch above chattering class,
I could never be find klieg lights shone on me,
cuz this baby boomer favor modesty,
and allow, enable and provide unconditional
acceptance and/or sir render if a verbal tete a

tete sparring rapport, quintessentially predicating,
predicting, presaging petsmart outstanding native
manhood lesson kooky, jousting insignificant, harmony,
gaiety, favorability, earnestly draws character,
basically badass and altruistic anatomical acer.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ah, I mean to narrow scope of poetic theme
so pardon ma roundabout circular modus operandi
shifting intent to discuss five overlapping rings
specifically, yet fern *** part tickler rhyme nor reason

those trademark circular strunk and white elements
of harried styled, swiftly tailored symbols
decreeing a fresh batch of Olympiads, ought
to be preceded via a topnotch Gumby like
rubbery sprite, who gets trotted out as a nimble

acrobat (gender impossible to determine based
upon Pygmy size physique performing her/his
balancing act (while avast crowd peers thru binoculars)
atop an equestrian (coincidentally
enough named Pokey), kooly juggling,

illustionistically hefty, generally fiery essentially
discobulous, cyclical, basically sans,
non verbal body language announcing
human fetes defying the laws of physics, which
global contest occurs every two years i.e. biennial

versus biannual, which means twice a year.
The rings are five interlocking rings, colored
blue, yellow, black, green and red on white field,
known as the "Olympic rings". The symbol
page number two:

originally designed in 1912 by Baron Pierre
de Coubertin, co-founder of modern
Olympic Games. Between subsequent meetups
held at metropolis when elected doth fast-track
this mission (rendering impossible much needed

infrastructure repairs, but vying to beautify a city
based on bids, or maybe drawing straws)
exerts priority, thus every laborer recruited
to emulsify, fortify, glorify...

whatever sainted urban jungle
testing physical mettle asper whatever sport
competitors vie to pit their burnished brawn, deft
flourish heaving jellied jambalaya limber muscles
opportunistically quite supremely ultimately

winning hearts and minds of spectators until
next candidate performs his/her slack jaw
jack draw, jumbo popcorn filled bowl dropping,
nonpareil, eye popping, routine,

and so on...an attempt for a ticket holder
to merely stand upright gets tripped with
mindscape filled to the point of saturation
with supra hue man dare devilish
whirling dervish performances.

Not one of these contenders for top prizes
can be modest, yet here such narcissism
expected, when the crème de la crème
of a well synchronized machine of finely tuned
glass shattering aria re: symphony for
skeletal system, musculature, and love of fitness

presents such a supremely sumptuously
striated squared specimen on the world
wide webbed stage. Aside from vicariously
exalting in the trials and errors of first one,
then the retinue of absolute breathtaking
delight, the ordinary conflicts (between

one warring internecine faction and another
mortal enemy) get suspended for duration
of these celebrations. A fanatic, generic,
heuristic, intrinsic kinetic potential

unleashed from a select body of youths,
young fluid adults athwart cusp and prime of life
who spent majority of their brief lives
(since most entrants seem to retain
a faint residue of childhood).
However many weeks encompasses
the planet agog with exemplars

pushing thee enveloped limitations
built or evolved (whatever your belief)
within **** Sapiens, a collective unified
adulation, vocalization wows loudly, thence echoing
like an Earthly explosive shot fired across beaming berth
divine expression qua visual fancy feast.

That infinitesimal fragment of time
(when laying down
of a bomb bin nub bull arms occurs) proves
smarmy, snooty, ******
abuse, brutality, cruelty...heaped

upon innocent creatures great lumbering sized
or microscopically small magically
able to mastering purposefulness,

analogous like idealistic storybook fable
diversity tis viable to adopt care and
concern for others. No matter this
blatant claim defies everyday gruesome,
horrible, intolerable jawboning,

knifing, mauling, naysaying, overtly
punishing, quivering ******, sodomizing,
terrorizing, undertaking vile waterboarding,
yielding zero, zilch, zip loosening restraint
despite the agonizingly beseeching,

cloyingly desperate, emphatically feeble,
gasping helplessly, indignantly jeered,
kicked, lambasted, molested, needled,
paddled, quickened recipe per

phlegm drum manic spewing, tasering,
ultimately violently whipped, which
contrary behavior vis a vis survival

of baseless, damndest, foremost, hated
jackal lashing, narcissistically, polluting
re: slaughtering until vilest wickedest
ignoble yearning zero sum throw win game crowned
most nasty beast that e'er walked this terra firmae.
Mark Parker May 2020
I promise you I’m not worried
About the trials of life

I promise my nightmares
Mean absolutely nothing.
That the vivid visions
Don’t dance in my mind
Or send me painful messages
That haunt my day.

I promise you I’m not worried
When deadly air topples the world,
Closes my recreational parks,
Locks all my favorite restaurants.
I’ll just sit at home like a good boy
And play around with little toys.

I promise it’s all just static,
That the sky can’t weather
what my mind can dream,
That I’m not falling apart,
At the seams microscopically.
Bad dreams
Joseph Sinclair Feb 2017
For so long were we happily united.
The divergence began a few years later.
It marked a time of sad and poignant loss.
A death with no cadaver.

What had we lost?
What had been ours to share and was no more?
How to apportion blame?
Why should blame even need to be considered?

There had been so much unity.
Our lives had meshed so thoroughly
and what had fingered one,
had snared the other.

Nothing is ever lost  (a physical law).
Every negative implies a positive.
So where was to be found
the serenity and joy
that had marked so many gleeful years?

The vacuum was vast and needed to be filled.
Her arms were opened wide;
while mine were clenched about myself.

I thought I could discern a pattern:
a repetition of highs and lows.
Perhaps, I thought, this could be the start
of a voyage of self-discovery,
and since, as Proust has said,
such voyages are less concerned
with seeking new landscapes,
than having new eyes,
I will have to microscopically
examine every facet of myself,
in order to find my true identity.

Then, perhaps, we will also learn
how to restore that unity.

And yet, and yet, the question
returns and re-echoes again and again:
After so many years, so many years,
how could we diverge so rapidly?
Writing things down
Feels like
Plucking hummingbirds
From inside my head
And holding them
In the palms of my hands
In front of me
So that I can
Eye them
Microscopically
Then
Let them go
And finally
Finally
Exhale
Jonathan Moya Mar 2020
It’s hard to find an even house:

foundations settle at creation,
doors will sag from slamming,

tiles will chip from drop pots,
careless feet scuffing along,  
days when they sweat and cry,

bricks will crack, driveways too—
settling into a haunting beauty,

everything tilts differently,
microscopically altered
from your last place.

Yet, you wonder
if the windows
will stick in winter,
stay open in summer .

You wonder where will
the dust angels hide,
what room can you
see the stars clearly.

The screened in porch,
you notice, let’s
in too much sun.
  
You feel its heat
on your arm
during the tour.

Will it hold your gravity,
if it can’t hold its own?

The air conditioning
shrieks like a ghost.

You hear squirrels
dancing in the attic,
the ones that will
keep your dog
barking all night.

You look for the line
where the water stopped.

The angst settles in you
like night fog, like a lifetime
of settling that ***** you in,

The heavy rain comes
in amounts that
can’t be bailed fast enough.

The house is a lake.
The lake is inside you,
and in the collapse
of the roof, you see the sky.

The house starts floating away
and you disappear inside it.
Under a Spanish Sun

Not all is what we see
eg
icebergs for instance.

There's an undertow wherever I go
some current that drags me down.

it's like looking at my reflection in a lake
what would it take to change places?

a leap into the deep
and would that keep me sound?
everything goes underground
it's where real life exists.

on a slide in an electron
and switched on
they see me
microscopically
small,
would they want to be me?

If life is the road
the cipher must be the
load that we pack,
it's
always at the back I see
the future far ahead of me

up in the lens they increase magnification
it doesn't make my situation
any the clearer.

Icebergs melt anyway
unless they're lettuces
and then they get eaten.
John regrets
and always as the sun sets,
on Sunday
a new day brightens up his mood
with coffee and a bowl of food,

the weather's nothing to write home about
in the wind I hear my name
I watch raindrops racing down the window,

pain is how you feel, felt,
ever knelt to be blessed?
never confessed?

as usual I waiver
the saviour leaves
but I caught his sister
told her
I missed her
she gave me the sign of
the cross
she
is probably the boss.

Sunrise and my eyes shine
anticipation belongs to me
mine all mine.

I've been in this dream before
can't ignore the clothes I wore
the crew cut hair
that air of arrogance

perhaps this is another chance
to get it right

if only I'd had second sight
first time around
now
to tread the same ground
filling in the blanks.

You could see me
be me
begging for charity
on the steps of St Pauls
but
you won't know me
until you know
yourself.

Under the microscope
I see
you see
we see
microscopically
a mosaic
pieces fit
float
rotate
procreate

some vegetate and we
use them as wallpaper.
Eric Apr 2019
In a dark place
Dense as the deepest violet
A spark emerges
Dancing so beautifully
Full of life
Its glow expands and retreats
Tighter and tighter
The spark tenses, suffocating by its own light
Smaller and smaller, microscopically still in space
An extreme mass, too heavy for the vacant universe

It’s bursts!
A million stars dust the canvas of nothing
Each with its own glow
Again and again
Infinitely
All across the webbed wide esse Scott's wold
emerald green Trifolium
carpets harbor untold
burrows of tiny Leprechauns clover
(leaf) ways grant trifold

wishes if captured might
divulge *** of gold
at rainbow's end, and e'en mend
yar shoes, whence re: souled,
thence tread softly beneath subthreshold

of audibility, cuz unseen universe
hapts tubby microscopically rolled
with subterranean inhabited by Lilliputian
mischievous beings (about bajillion holed
up could fill the Taj Mahal) even donned with

heavy coat protecting them
(usually men) against cold
yet frolic with reel delight jiggling
with inborn instinct exhibit twofold
talent to dance with modesty

downplaying (while fiddling)
averse tubby extolled,
nonetheless, their popular
doth soar, and grievously scold
persistent myth anchored with toehold,

and thus do not indulge
pruriently with pixies considerably dulled,
since libido practically nonexistent told
me (under oath of
confidentiality), one Grunwald

trusted yours truly, the secrete
will not leak out,
nor spread like slime mold,
this descendant of Lemuel Gulliver
(ironically my height

only about threefold
larger than full grown imp possible
to see non elfish (pressed) lee ping auld
timers cavorting with
itty bitty whippersnappers,

averse to any outliers, whether hirsute or bald
an honest to goodness painstaking effort
initially stymied friendship proffered, a cold
reception eventually (while sharing diet of worms)
deep under verdantly festooned knolls of Eire land.
Nary a clue exists about
     the relationship between
relative quantities of substances
     taking part in a clean
(non GMO contaminated)
     gluten free reaction,
     or forming a mean
compound, typically a ratio

     of whole integers umpteen
place holders long proudly,
     (albeit microscopically)
     swaggering analogous
     to a prideful
     home coming queen
walking with her beau
     appearing much older looking

     than a latte (drinking) teen,
the third word up above, (affright
full looking, isle
     lid lashing sorely,
     trying, torquing, and
     testing vision, i.e. eye sight),
where with insight
red left to right

across conventionally,
     sans persons write
ting, and/or read
     ding English, who might
live within neck of the woods,
     how zing this knight,
where the whirled wide webbing
     haint so bright

this smart aleck (comprised
     fancy title), excite
ting immediate uptight
reaction came to "light"
just in the nick of time
     to spur a sprite
lee chary reader to take
     pro nouns hubble flight

(at what the ĵ** -
     in reference quite
understandably to multi
     syllable chemical airtight
romance masquerade),
     this barred bard did write

unfamiliar word, which undoubtedly
     triggered consternation,
     and fierce urge to bite
and/ or sentence this "FAKE" cur,
     who **** unable to height
ten interest toward me senseless
     poetics with supreme delight.
This poetic attempt an abbreviation
how biological insemination
(minus in vitro fertilization)
seeds latent **** sapiens reproduction
possibly since moment of conception,
whereby inchoate progeny

impossible to sustain
fantastic, holistic, terrific... weatherization
against prejudicial germs
that elude uterine infiltration
entering womb thru fallopian tube,
or courtesy external drive

re: environmental perturbation
microscopically initiating
biological emancipation
thank you ***** llama chin
please withhold ovation
setting in cellular division motion

begetting August poetic
jejune chain reaction
triggering anonymous
reader to yawn nonstop - definite indication
that yours truly induces excitation
in short shrift inducing
somniferous maximization,

yet for those readers
still awake lemme thank
your much ado about
nothing voluntary solicitation
to decrypt poetic
explanation, explication, exploration...

not asking concordance or agreement (ha)
without being redundant, nor repetitive
with my matted trademark communication
detailing mine opinion
courtesy quasi succinct elaboration
i.e. during the process

of in utero gestation
the embryo/fetus absorbs influences -
sorry no summation
in sight, not even
at anticipated parturition
cuz effects upon psyche of unborn
(unknown even by the twelfth night)

even after birth manifestation
within mind of next generation
heavily impacted courtesy
infernal contribution
despite most commendable
effort at postnatal

efforts to chaperone
son/daughter insulation
against prejudice virtually
impossible mission
(even spectre Tack Cuéllar,
viz ghost of Peter Graves

unable to succeed at extirpation
unfavorable antisemitism, bigotry, cruelty...
I concur religious,
racial, nationality... integration,
could certainly help deescalation
hmm... boot perhaps...

maybe not total elimination...,
yet such salient measure
could help offset blatant
outright, pervasive, queasy...
lifelong societal and personal ramification,
this targeted token
"scapegoat" closes his wordy attestation.
walk a circuit around perimeter of parking lot

Yours truly realized modus operandi
to kombat (mortal) lethargy
he strides rite around
resident parking lot area
usually at approximately
19:00 hours each day
casually bumbling and ambling
one lap after another
counting one hundred and one,
one hundred and two,
one hundred and three...
coordinated with deep breathing
to distract self from repetitiveness.

Modicum of exercise
also helps keeps at bay
mental anguish triggered
duress experienced
courtesy of property management
constituting: Zoftig, the warden
and maintenance man "Mister Clean"
once also known as "twinkle toes,"
back during hs high school heyday
whose invisible clutches

asphyxiate me and the missus
prompting us to search
senior low income apartment facilities,
spurring query regarding
wondering if any anonymous reader
might be able, eager, ready and willing
to hand over keys to main lodging
including carriage house,
or (in a manor of writing)
assign access rights to an excellent outlook.

Sense and sensibility concerning
the emotional fallout
brought about by sedentariness
(essentially affecting me to feel
glum, melancholy, and ruminative)
helped goad generic indigent solitary man
(practically self quarantined
his whole mucked up adult life)
hence not inconvenienced
when coronavirus COVID-19
wrought havoc and mayhem.

Just on the cusp of experiencing joie de vivre
the triumvirate of Crooks and Quade
figuratively swooped down
to announce re: inspection
of apartment unit B44
Tuesday June 29th, 11:00 am - 4:00 pm.

Thus series of unfortunate events
(linkedin with bull limey
Lemony Snicket bro)
got sidelined nsync with
contracting a minor bout
with deadly Amish Flu
symptoms found garden variety reasonable rhymer
bedridden feeling a little horse and buggy (ha),
incapacitated to craft signature poetry writing.

An honest to dog confession
regarding hiatus spewing forth
vociferous versatile vocabulary
mine words - worth their weight in gold
(told woofer I do not know), nevertheless
included perusing a gamut of reading material.

The passion to engross intellect
witnessed courtesy immersing
attention, concentration, excitation
gratification, intoxication;
knowledge prized more precious
than fine spun gold.

Likewise crafting (albeit painstakingly)
elusive notions that flit
to and fro hither and yon
(analogous to ping pong ball)
within parameters of
microscopically crenellated
gray matter
also constitutes fervent interest.
I accompany my dark shadow...
(many hours before edge of night,
where twilight zone evokes night gallery),
and resumed walking a circuit
around perimeter of parking lot
today, a breezy temperate
twenty fifth of April two thousand
and twenty two, and perhaps
if regularly habituate myself
to said stroll physical endeavors
may one day find me to cantor or trot.

Yours truly realized modus operandi
to kombat (mortal) lethargy;
last year, he did stride rite
around resident parking lot area
(here at Highland Manor apartments)
then usually at approximately
19:00 hours each day
casually bumbling and ambling
one lap after another
counting one hundred and one,
one hundred and two,
one hundred and three...
coordinated with deep breathing
to distract self from repetitiveness.

Modicum of walking exercise
benefits this sexagenarian
in tandem yours truly began
burning ghee (my slang for calories)
while maintaining sitting position
placing each foot in strap
and pedalling lightweight machine
against adjusted tension.

Aside from strengthening leg muscles
choosing to while away time
by disciplining myself with former or latter,
both modes of physical fitness
also help keep anguish at bay
mental duress triggered
courtesy of property management
constituting: Zoftig, the warden
and maintenance man,
(a recent hire),
the first two whose invisible clutches

asphyxiate me and the missus
hounding us to keep
one bedroom apartment in shipshape order
and particularly to wipe away fruit fly feces
(cuz exterminator informed us
said itty bitty teeny weeny insect
breeds within their
yellowish gummy waste matter)
prompting us to Google search
senior low income apartment facilities,
spurring spurious query wondering
whether any anonymous reader
might be able, eager, ready and willing
to hand over keys to main lodging
including carriage house,
we would even settle for a dog house
or (in a manor of writing) Yukon
assign access rights to an excellent outlook.

Sense and sensibility concerning
the emotional fallout
brought about by sedentariness
(essentially affecting me to feel
glum, melancholy, and ruminative)
helped goad generic indigent solitary man
(practically self quarantined
his whole mucked up adult life)
hence not inconvenienced
when coronavirus COVID-19
wrought havoc and mayhem.

Just on the cusp of experiencing joie de vivre,
the triumvirate of Crooks and Quade
figuratively swoop down
to announce re: inspection
of apartment unit B44
whenever they deem appropriate.

Thus series of unfortunate events
(linkedin with bull limey
Lemony Snicket bro)
got sidelined nsync with
contracting a minor bout
with deadly Amish Flu
symptoms found garden variety
reasonable rhymer
bedridden feeling a little horse and buggy (ha),
incapacitated to craft signature poetry writing.

An honest to dog confession
regarding hiatus spewing forth
vociferous versatile vocabulary
mine words - worth their weight in gold
(told woofer I do not know), nevertheless
included perusing a gamut of reading material.

The passion to engross intellect
witnessed courtesy immersing
attention, concentration, excitation
gratification, intoxication;
knowledge prized more precious
than fine spun gold.

Likewise crafting (albeit painstakingly)
elusive notions that flit
to and fro hither and yon
(analogous to ping pong ball)
within parameters of
microscopically crenellated
sixty plus shades of gray matter
also constitutes fervent interest.
Gabriel burnS Feb 2020
The wind excites the fields
The sun is jealous
The gluten’s changing
Stirring gelous
Microscopically

Is this singing now?
The Mexican wave…
No rehearsals ever
No choreography
Just spontaneous
Shift in geography

Not of their locale
Caught in observation
The bridges that extend from the outside to eyes
to thought
Have found the end of drought
And the rebirth of purpose
In the gentle touch of river
Unexpectedly
Her fingers sliding underneath the arks
To interlock with the supports
To join what’s brought apart
Till wholeness is restored

The wind is You…
The river, too...
And only You can be the Sun as well…
I am everywhere at the same time
Unbound from earthly shell

* * *

Възбудени полета

Вятърът вълнува полето
Слънцето ревнува
Променя се глутенът
Разбърква се във гел
Микроскопично

Това пеене ли е сега?
Мексиканската вълна
Без никаква репетиция
Без хореография
Просто спонтанна
Промяна в географията

Извън тази локалност
Хванат в наблюдение
Мостовете, свързващи външното с очите
С мисълта
Намерили края на сушата
И прераждането на смисъла
В нежното докосване на реката
Неочаквано
Пръстите й плъзнали под арките
За да се сплетат с подпорите
И да обединят разделеното
До възвръщането на целостта

Вятърът си Ти
И реката Си,
И само Ти можеш да бъдеш и Слънцето
А аз съм навсякъде едновременно
Освободен от земната си черупка
where Lassie free to run across petco junction

All across the webbed
wide esse Scott's wold
emerald green Trifolium
carpets harbor untold
burrows of tiny Leprechauns clover
(leaf) ways grant trifold
wishes if captured might
divulge *** of gold
at rainbow's end, and e'en mend
yar shoes, whence re: souled,
thence tread softly beneath subthreshold

of audibility, cuz unseen universe
hapts tubby microscopically rolled
with subterranean inhabited by Lilliputian
mischievous beings (about bajillion holed
up could fill the Taj Mahal) even donned with

heavy coat protecting them
(usually men) against cold
yet frolic with reel delight jiggling
with inborn instinct exhibit twofold
talent to dance with modesty

downplaying (while fiddling)
analogous to some roof fiend
averse tubby extolled,
nonetheless, their popular
doth soar, and grievously scold
persistent myth anchored with toehold,

and thus do not indulge
pruriently with pixies considerably dulled,
since libido practically nonexistent told
me (under oath of
confidentiality), one Grunwald
trusted yours truly, the secrete
will not leak out,
nor spread like slime mold,
this descendant of Lemuel Gulliver.

Yours truly (an average
height and weight size ways)
nondescript grown
male munching kin
stands a little less than threefold
larger than full grown homunculi.

Rumor monger kickstarter
Matthew Scott Harris
posits nontrue tidbit
regarding rock 'n' roll star
who (name unmentioned)
became the most influential
musicians across the universe,
with estimated record sales
of around 600 million
as of two thousand seventeen.

Imp possible mission
to see non elfish (pressed) lee
160 years after his Irish ancestor
crossed the Atlantic.
curling his left lip
whereby convalescing, peep ping auld
timers cavorting wax nostalgic with
itty bitty whippersnappers,

averse to any outliers, whether hirsute or bald
an honest to goodness painstaking effort
initially stymied friendship proffered, a cold
reception eventually (while sharing diet of worms)
deep under verdantly
festooned knolls of Eire land.
Dan Hess Jul 2019
I seek for an amenity
To this disease inside of me
Which aggravates my energy
Extrapolating violently
Ironically, I'm logically abusing rationality
Irrationally exacerbating deductive realities
Which are bound to me in stagnant times
When my mind flies to other fallacies
I have to be strong but I'm just breaking microscopically

I'm always thinking too much
I can't stop, I just rush
I'm overwhelmed, but I can't touch the point
but I'm inbound and I won't disappoint

My thoughts are always chasing me
Tied down by acute empathy
And sympathy is not for me
Cause I can't bring myself to see
What is to come, what cannot be
where I will be eventually

Spirituality, obviously, must be bound to physicality
And so I ask you, how could we describe our own psychology?
An amalgamation of the slightest mental energy is quite the anomaly,
How can we help ourselves if we're just damaging humanity?

If you ask me, when our brains gain new insight
We can think in different ways and make change
Make the world bright
Let's share our claims with all who complain
And share peace and make things right

It messes with my head a bit that our mind processes everything,
That's all we ever really experience
We'll never be able to get inside someone else's head and test drive it.
where Lassie free to run across petco junction

All across the webbed
wide esse Scott's landed wold
emerald green Trifolium
carpets harbor untold
burrows of tiny Leprechauns clover
(leaf) ways grant trifold
wishes if captured might
divulge *** of gold
at rainbow's end, and e'en mend
yar shoes, whence re: souled,

thence tread softly beneath subthreshold
of audibility, cuz unseen universe
hapts tubby microscopically rolled
with subterranean inhabited by Lilliputian
mischievous impish beings
(about bajillion holed
up could fill the Taj Mahal) even donned with
heavy coat protecting them
(usually men) against cold
yet frolic with reel delight jiggling

with inborn instinct exhibit twofold
talent to dance with modesty
downplaying (while fiddling)
analogous to some roof fiend
averse tubby extolled,
nonetheless, their popular
doth soar, and grievously scold
persistent myth anchored with toehold,
and thus do not indulge
pruriently with pixies considerably dulled,

since libido practically nonexistent told
me (under oath of
confidentiality), one Grunwald
trusted yours truly, the secrete
will not leak out,
nor spread like slime mold,
this descendant of Lemuel Gulliver
who schleps across the webbed wide wold.

Yours truly (an average
height and weight size ways)
nondescript grown
male munching kin
stands a little less than threefold
larger than full grown homunculi.

Rumor monger kickstarter
Matthew Scott Harris
posits nontrue tidbit
regarding rock 'n' roll star
who (name unmentioned)
became the most influential
musicians across the universe,
with estimated record sales
of around 600 million
as of two thousand twenty blank.

Imp possible mission
to see non elfish (pressed) lee
160 years after his Irish ancestor
crossed the Atlantic
curling his left lip,
whereby convalescing, peep ping auld
timers cavorting wax nostalgic with
itty bitty whippersnappers,
averse to any outliers,
whether hirsute or bald
an honest to goodness painstaking effort
initially stymied friendship proffered, a cold
reception eventually bedecked
hall of the mountain king
(while sharing diet of worms)
deep under verdantly
festooned knolls of Eire land.
regarding my resumption
of daily/mostly nightly constitutional

I accompany my dark shadow...
(small number of  hours
before edge of night,
where twilight zone evokes night gallery -
drawing celestial sphere closer to me
from the outer limits),
and resumed walking a circuit
around perimeter of parking lot
imbibing the scent of Mother Nature
beginning today after

a hiatus of countless years -
aiming to foster stamina
before returning to the contra dance -
in Mount Airy after Paul Halpern
reconfigures pertinent characteristics
post cataract surgery
to fit appropriate spectacles)
meanwhile yours truly (me)
exercises his right to bare arms

air supply sustained
by breezy temperate
twenty seventh seal of Bergmanian
September two thousand
and twenty four, and perhaps
if regularly habituate myself
to said stroll physical endeavors
may one day find me to cantor or trot
and stop horsing around.

Yours truly realized modus operandi
to kombat (mortal) lethargy;
last year, he did stride rite
around resident parking lot area
(here at Highland Manor apartments)
then usually at approximately
19:00 hours each day
casually bumbling and ambling
one lap after another
counting one hundred and one,
one hundred and two,
one hundred and three...
coordinated with deep breathing
to distract self from repetitiveness.

Modicum of walking exercise
benefits this sexagenarian
in tandem yours truly began
burning ghee (my slang for calories)
while maintaining sitting position
placing each foot in strap
and pedalling lightweight machine
against adjusted tension.

Aside from strengthening leg muscles
choosing to while away time
by disciplining myself
with former or latter,
both modes of physical fitness
also help keep anguish at bay
(plus sublimating, and redirecting
formerly tied in with hair compulsion)
mental duress triggered
courtesy of property management
constituting: Zoftig, the warden

and maintenance man,
(a recent hire),
the first two whose invisible clutches
asphyxiate me and the missus
hounding us to keep
one bedroom apartment in shipshape order
and particularly and somewhat unpleasant
to wipe away fruit fly feces
(cuz exterminator informed us
said itty bitty teeny weeny insect
breeds within their

yellowish gummy waste matter)
prompting us to Google search
senior low income apartment facilities,
spurring spurious query wondering
whether any anonymous reader
might be able, eager, ready and willing
to hand over keys to main lodging
including carriage house,
we would even settle for a dog house
or (in a manor of writing) Yukon
assign access rights
to access an excellent outlook.

Sense and sensibility concerning
the emotional fallout
brought about by sedentariness
(essentially affecting me to feel
glum, melancholy, and ruminative)
helped goad generic indigent solitary man
(practically self quarantined
his whole mucked up adult life),
hence not inconvenienced
when coronavirus COVID-19
wrought havoc and mayhem.

Just on the cusp of experiencing joie de vivre,
the triumvirate of Crooks and Quade
figuratively swoop down
to announce re: inspection
of apartment unit B44
whenever they deem appropriate.

Thus series of unfortunate events
(linkedin with bull limey
Lemony Snicket bro)
got sidelined nsync with
contracting a minor bout
with deadly Amish Flu
symptoms include feeling horse
and a little buggy found
garden variety reasonable rhymer
faux being bedridden
(just pretending to get sympathy)
once again feigning feeling
a little horse and buggy (ha),
incapacitated to craft
original signature poetry writing,
cuz for your edification
most of these words written
at least a couple years ago.

An honest to dog confession
regarding hiatus spewing forth
vociferous versatile vocabulary
mine words - worth their weight in gold
(told woofer I do not know), nevertheless
included perusing a gamut of reading material.

The passion to engross intellect
witnessed courtesy immersing
attention, concentration, excitation
gratification, intoxication;
knowledge prized more precious
than fine spun gold.

Likewise crafting (albeit painstakingly)
elusive notions that flit
to and fro hither and yon
(analogous to ping pong ball)
within parameters of
microscopically crenellated
sixty plus shades of gray matter
also constitutes fervent interest.
B E Cults Feb 2020
in lieu of a gilded rose
in front of a glimmering window
we have this moment
in which we disclose,
to you as much as to ourselves
a memory;
bones pulled from a frozen lake.

call it stolen.
call it entropy.
don't ever call it again.

no matter the path
you choose to crack microscopically
Saturn will still scream on a wavelength
that took 4.5 billion to even be noticed.

that's divinity.
blindly casting unfathomabilty
at the void all around itself:
king, queen, and the thief purloining
the centerpiece from the former's feast table.

so please explain to me why,
a billion miles away from Saturn,
closer to Sol,
suicide is something that exists.
especially since every truth is a myth
that, in the end,
was ripped from the mist of **** memories
remembered a bit differently.

so, is it stolen?
is this entropy?
are you married with kids?

whatever it's become for you,
love it.
as well as however it is you fit into it.
this wasnt done and now it is.
incrementum per mortem, everybody
SIFTING SOUND INTO SHAPE

“S”

he scrawled silently
(tongue in cheek) .

“ILE”

the pencil pondered ponderously
(an awesome feat) .

“NT”

his head empty
(...empty...)

“LY”

“You’ve got to try! ”
(He could only cry)

a prism
of tears
enclosing the word
(a microbe microscopically magnified)
by his despair.

The black markings that he made
would not talk back to him.

He saw only the silent white
that glowed around the lonely letter

felt only the emptiness
that writing cut out
of the page’s snowdrift.

He could not claim
to know how

letters chiselled

meaning into words

until once
(suddenly it seemed)
upon a time

sifting shape
into sense

there fell
through the mesh of letters

nuggets of words
golden with meaning.

“Gold! ”

stuttered his stunted pencil.

“Gold! ”

his startled hand mimed.

“Gold! ”
screamed his mind.

“Gold! ”
“Gold! ”
“Gold! ”
fold into myself
nice and neat
becoming as small
as i could possibly be
tinier and tinier
microscopically
beyond what the
unaided eye could see
let me disappear
into thin air
promise
nobody would care
don't say that
that isn't fair
at least
be self aware

— The End —