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Test Ting Won To Tree
By
Charles Fleischer







Rifleman decal water is to Tiny basket liners as Strained yo-yo string is to?
Dark wool glowing is to Oldest lost oddity as First genetic engine is to?
Black quail taint is to Nut curdled paint as Hemp biscuit dominoes are to?
Steam traced paper is to Lemon ash vapor as Digital ****** wig is to?
Eccentric brine mimes are to Electric silk slacks as Spark formed lava is to?
Sunchoked black hornets are to as Rescued orphan doves as Retold cat jokes are to?
Hand traced videos are to Braided rubber spines as Opal rain dancers are to?
Halogen anchor gong is to Annoying bread portraits as Soft bracelet lockers are to?
Old troll bios are to Select cherub echoes as Broken matchstick parasols are to?
Dome nine chariots are to Frayed lunar remnants as Fuming honey flasks are to?
Bluing assault operas is to Beading fluted flowers as Magnetic lawn tweezers are to?
Converted flea sponges are to Floating dog murals as Frozen Archie comics are to?
Molded road pads are to Crusty gumdrop thread as Straw ribbed pelicans are to?
Inflatable diamond vowel is to Single gender raffle as Groovy desert coffee is to?
Temporary solution radiation is to Idiotic witness mumble as Motorized marshmallow kit is to?
Panoramic utopian paranoia is to Aggravated **** silhouettes as Unhinged gun sellers are to?
Homesick ghost pajamas is to Virtuous fly fungus as Royal sandpaper gloves are to?
Gangster hayride tickets are to Deer milk Oreos as Turnip fairy maps are to?
Glue gun **** is to Nocturnal cabin mice as Cab fare corn is to?
Speckled fish nickels are to Under water bric-a-brac as Epic snakeskin paisley is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Raunchy snail kimono is to Coiled time dice as Smeared equator malt is to?
Metallic centaur franchise is to Transparent cheese chess as Spotted glacial remnants is to?
Sky fused pong is to Rustic mothers brattle as Granulated canister ointment is to?
Overgrown maze mule is to Mated smugglers hugging as Floating thesaurus exam is to?
Sliding coed sprinkler is to Soapy whitefish rebate as Precious lamb diaper is to?
Mushy acorn luster is to Lilac protein rings as Slapstick wrestler dialect is to?
Freaky plankton bells is to Rolling horse divorce as Morphing morphine lips are to?
Sticky razor sparkle is to Emerald muscle spasm as Glaring cat cipher is to?
Peppy unisex mustache is to Pelican fighter syndrome as Clumping night grumble is to?
Scanning paired pearls are to Ruby rubbed roaches as Satanic sailor flotsam  are to?
Glowing asteroid solder is to Ideal shark data as Failed frail doilies are to?
Numb nuts boredom is to Fantastic icy phantoms as Sporadic silk creations is to?
Crooks crow chow is to Loading spackled bonder as Gargled snowdrop blasters are to?
Outdid myself today is to Outside myself again as Outlived myself controls is to?
Venting shuttlecock upset is to Texting badminton kitten as Settler tested motels are to?
Prepare paired vents is to Prefer paid events as Pretender predicts fiction is to
Crunchy mental fender is to Catching mentor menace as Poorly seasoned lettuce is to?
Outside sidewalk inside is to Seaside outcast input as Sideways landslide victory is to?  
Compile fake password is to Compost world poo as Compose village anthem is to?
Crooked crotch blunder is to Loud crowd thunder as Divine vine finder is to?
Chucks’ wooden truck is to Bucks good luck as Sticky ducks tucked is to?  
Overhaul underway overseas is to Overturned downsized pickup as Underground onramp overloaded is to?
I’ll bite there is to Aisle byte their as Isle bight there is to?
Gnat gnawed wrist is to ***** show beans as See through putty is to?
Flapping floppy guppies are to Buzzing zipped dozers as Muddy ****** strippers are to?
Dark diagonal dialogue is to Diabolical dihedral die as Interesting circadian exposition is to?
Experimental flossing expectations are to Waxed dental traps as Permanent impermanence resolution is to?  
Outran ringside intrigue is to Sidetracked onboard boatload as Loaded firearm topside is to?
Phony ****** phone is to Chewy ego honey as Yogi Mama’s dada is to?
Nimble teardrop squiggle is to Humble cage curtains as Loyal truckstop morals are to?
Torching curled elastic is to Sonic neighbor clamor as Golden droplet integers are to?
Duplex pupil scanners are to Nacreous cloud clocks as Shrouded flute shops are to?
Lawn rocket tendrils are to Finding surreal borders as Sheep monarchs children is to?
Gloating ungloved squires are to Busting double doubters as Pushing woeful doctors are to?
Tricking snowbelt firedogs is to Panmixing blackened haywires as Unclothed shameful leaders are to?
Malicious ranch ritual is to Internal puppet bubble as Ornate underworld masquerade is to?
Rustic debonair Eskimos are to Mindless sassy elves as Gorgeous somber acrobats are to?
Learned earthy pimps are to Fearless sneaky Queens as Somber gentle vagrants are to?
Shocking horse wear is to Glossy sled fluid as Damaged chipmunk tongue is to?
Traditional agony chart is to Damp voodoo motel as Backwoods museum quote is to?
Magical cat cabin is to Dapper porpoise humor as Malicious graveyard foam is to?
Therapeutic gazelle cushion is to Stored alibi equipment as Stunning tempo light is to?
Fantastic rascal art is to Wasted prune dust as Jupiter’s ****** law is to?
Little nut razor is to Gigantic hyena shield as Hourglass pillow fever is to?
Coiled rain clouds are to Dizzy tycoon clowns as Lime eating cowards are to?
Possessive epicurean demonstrators are to Faded eavesdropping giants as Determined swanky drunks are to?
Aquatic preview pocket is to Soggy judicial topiary as Finicky hamster fabric is to?
Enlarged fruit cuff is to Obedient mumbling orchestra as Dark tenant tariff is to?
Recycled flash thermometer is to Botched temptation probe as Pet glider grid is to?
Seriously shy idols are to Costly driving perfumes as Ferryboat chapel wine is to?
Winged jalopy details are to Faithful spectral fathers as Sprinkled mint rainbows are to?
Spelling unneeded words is to Sprouting donut ***** as Blaming mellow mallrats are to?
Eroding loom keepsake is to Magnificent accordion canoe as ***** bongo fumes are to?
Souring violet ink is to Juvenile insult park as Periodic ferret envy is to?
Obedient boyfriend aroma is to Sanitized fat lozenges as Dramatic jailer garb is to?
Mysterious patrol group is to Dynamic maiden discharge as Captured hurricane ratio is to?
Lackadaisical bigot bingo is to Oblong care merchant as Expensive swamp shampoo is to?
Petite orifice worship is to Atomic barge pet as Plucked hair exhibit is to?
Elite officer wallop is to Automatic yard rake as Healing ****** glitter is to?
Needless swan costume is to Giant jungle goat as Organic picnic napkin is to?
Leaky jet steam is to Innovative fascist whistle as Enchanting idol evidence is to?
Plastic mascara seduction is to Greasy thermal ointment as Attractive muskrat crease is to?
Lucky camel pills are to White coral Torah as Eternal stage clutter is to?
Roasted oat **** is to Sloppy *** glue as Nylon table debt is to?
Steep nook catastrophe is to Empty dome damage as Pulsing breeze powder is to?
Empty sack power is to Hitched buck stroke as Red claw warning is to?
Ultra brief slogan is to Yummy lab mutant as Pathetic ball armor is to?
Nauseating fish splatter is to Obstinate ****** twitch as Strained ***** coffee is to?
Mezzanine intermission fossil is to Proven **** apathy as Golden duck shroud is to?
Civil tutors torment is to Thor’s posted theory as Yellow melon rain is to?
Immense olive raft is to Exploding kangaroo buffet as Ethereal witness index is to?  
Marching dark speeders are to Searing scribble fighters as **** tripping sinners are to?
Seeping viral angst is to Aged hermit tea as Murky bowl nibble is to?
Condensed blister guzzle is to Pink dorsal pie as Lavish speckled runt is to?
Needy insult poet is to Sedated acorn trader as Dry honey zoo is to?
Veiled trust flicker is to Deranged poser fashion as Flat sizzle tangent is to?
Purified diet spray is to Nebulous wishing target as Thrilling screen dope is to?
Majestic ribbon astronomy is to Bizarre formation sector as Rebel bell gimmick is to?
Sealed dart whisper is to Green silk draft as Cold vacuum varnish is to?
Clumsy raven power is to Insect island circus as Minted mink drapes are to?
Curved map ruler is to Tiny lethal radio as Blue fused metal is to?
Inverted laser invasion is to Damp sheep dump as Puffy gown smoke is to?
Saucy Channel blazer is to Leather goat filament as Starched locomotive hat is to?
Broken jumper leads are to Disgraced mini exorcists as Designer shamrock caulk is to?
Tweaked poachers smokes are to Assorted sulfur pathways as Collected bedlamp trickle is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Crawling battle worms are to Vibrating metal pedals as Mentholated matrix wax is to?
Missing meshed rafts are to Liquid rock pipes as Crinkled bean bikinis are to?
Tithing **** joggers are to Perforated buck fronds as Leather zither picks are to?
Fearing truthful cowards is to Rambling preachers mumble as Gazebo ambulance gasoline is to?
Shelving elder’s whiskers is to Poaching goalies pesto as Radical tricycle angst is to?
Mucky gunboat polymer is to Primeval maypole flameout as Cathedral greenhouse intercom is to?
Diaphanous safety prize is to Unleashed saucer lion as Dorky blonde ropewalker is to?
Tapered spring meter is to Silver silo mythology as Misguided judges medallions are to?
Alligator x-ray money is to Cherry unicorn water as Coyote cactus toy is to?
Cowardly dorm scrooge is to Atomized pewter script as Flattened spore smoothies are to?
Trash can yodel is to Flashing wired spam as Exploding chocolate pudding is to?
Sonar blasted bushings are to Threading ruined wheels as Forty shifting boxes are to?
Tiny balloon rebellion is to Softened square cleanser as Iconic soul sucker is to?
Harmony night light is to Spanish nitrogen desire as Squirrel cavern iodine is to?

Lazy winter secret is to Slow airport widget as Silly mustard binder is to?
Elephants raising raisins are to Microscopic lamb planet as Purple hay puppets are to?
Caribou venom vaccine is to Electronic lemonade choir as Demonic princess massage is to?
Beet coated bridge is to Fattened needle point as Mylar monkey spine is to?
Ashy ink dust is to Youngest rabbi planet as Orange cartoon geometry is to?
Cold green chalk is to Cobalt ladder farce as ***** river filters are to?
Sublime sheep master is to Sleeping past rapture as Subliminal bliss jelly is to?
Ocean crust slippers are to Twigged germ radar as Popping sharpie scope is to?
Zen wrapped beep is to Oak foamed code as Wicked flashing sizzle is to?
Dew eyed sleigh is to Say I do as Act as me is to?
Humpback on hammock is to Ham hocking hummer as Hunchback with knapsack is to?
Corned flag jelly is to Draped wing chewers as Tripping swan acid is to?
Futuristic Rembrandt chant is to Almond likened meadows as Asian timber blue is to?
Nap in sack is to Flap on Jack as Ducks dig crack is to?
Flowing flavored lava is to Gleaming optic layers as Enhanced goose gibberish is to?      
Flag tied pajamas are to Saline checker choir as Speed reading quotas is to?
Whipped spam spasms are to Misted shaman scripture as Testing pitched bells is to?
Cave aged eggs are to Crowded tiger cages as ****** wagon pegs are to?
Pigeon towed car is to a Man toad art as Wolf whisker wish is to?
Second hand clothes are to Minute hand gestures as Final hour prayer is to?
Slick wicked shavers are to Tricky watch boxes as Sprouting pine tattoos are to?
Waxed stick ravens are to Match stick foxes as Narrowed thermal towers are to?
Ice cave rice is to Laced face lice as Gourmet pet **** is to?
Diamond lane anniversary is to Space age appropriate as Time travel agency is to?
Lime bark violin is to Lemon twig guitar as Lunar sky waffles are to?
Fake rat **** is to Smart cake batter as Rugged fur tax is to?
Tarred raft fluff is to Flaked rafter dust as Lined liquor flask is to?
Flakes will fall is to Take Bills call as Broken maze compass is to?
First faked voter is to Entombed cartoon honey as Smallest aching smurf is to?
Fancy bared ******* are to Flaky fairy treats as Kings amp filter is to?
Bone window folio is to Whittled fake pillow as Little fitted jackets are to?
Nine nuts brittle is to Ate pear pie as Six packed poppers are to?
Incandescent playground pencil is to Elastic hand worm as Perfumed piano ink is to?
Opal shifting anode is to a Windup lion decoy as Pale paisley trolley is to?
Stacked black boxes are to Old packed tracks as a Throwing micron hammers is to?
Apricot bark furnace is to Merry Orchid Choir as an Ivory rinsing funnel is to?  
Narcotic honey nuts are to Slick flag toffees as Silk fig sugar is to?
Orange coin raisins are to Low note candies as Smelling balled roses is to?
Pocket packed monotints are to Tragic ladder hayracks as Ravishing speed traders are to?
Crayon spider resin is to Coral squirrel forceps as Wolf tumbled loaf is to?  
Silver wheat flies are to Width shifting wheels as Golden blister blankets are to?
Really tiny hippopotamus is to Masked fat podiatrist as a Sad sack psychiatrist is to?
Miniature Mesopotamian monuments are to Apple minted elephants as Raising wise ravens is to?
Lathered nymph nacre is to Sonic ion constellations as Concealed iron craft is to?  
Epic gene toy is to Ladies bubble sled as Jagged data bowl is to?
Bugged dagger bag is to Pop sliced meld as Atom bending moonlight to?  
Rural madam’s deed is to Dyed dew dipper as Eight sprayed dukes are to?
Jiffy grand puffer is to Floating altar myth as Vintage dark mirth is to?
Undercover overnight underwear is to Overpaid undertaker overdosing as Overheard understudy freebasing is to?

Black grape crackle is to Red cactus ruffle as Installing padded pets are to?
Snide snobs sniffing are to Sneaky snails snoring as Snared snipes sneezing are to?
Exploring explosive exits is to Explaining expansive exports as Expecting expert exchange is to?
Shrewd logic ledger is to Puppets dropping cupcakes as Placated topaz octopi are to?
Door roof tools are to Cool wool boots as Wood cooked root is to?
Bright fight light is to Night flight fright as Mites bite site is to?
Floor flood fluid is to Wooden door Druid as Nasty **** broom is to?
Accurate police photography is to Intelligent microbe geography as Condensed aerosol biography is to?
Cowardly cowboy grime is to Corpulent corporate crime as Bosnian dwarf necromancer is to?
Jell-O clearing shaker is to Brillo cleaning shiner as Cheerios bowling shields are to?
Mumbled mindless hokey is to Fumbled found money as Humming kinder bunny is to?
Daisy’s clock setter is to Lilly’s boxer toxin as Poodles rose paddle is to?
Watch Bozo Copernicus is to Hire Clarabelle Newton as Find ***-wee Einstein is to?
Amethyst thistle whistles is to Lapis pistol whip as Diamond bomb scar is to?
Dandelion seahorse rescue is to Crabapple dogwood farm as Faux foxglove lover is to?    
Optical poppy stopper is to Polar halo lens as Day-Glo rainbow sticker is to?
Savanna leopard spotted is to Eskimo lassos kisses as Alligator lemonade standard is to?
Bill of Rights is to Will of left as Thrill of night is to?
Baptize floozies quickly is to Useless outsized nozzles as Puzzled wizard wanders is to?        
Chaps wearing chaps are to Chaps contesting contests as Consoling concealed consoles is to?
Quiet squirming squirrels are to Aeon beauty queens as Queasy greasy luaus is to?
Knew new gnu is to Sense scents cents as We’ll wheal wheel is to?
Blazing zingers ringing are to Wheezing singers flinging as Freezing finger number are to?
Lamb tomb jogger is to Dumb numb **** as Thumbed crumb bug is to?

Blue accordion casket is to Jaded scholar ***** as German mushroom circus is to?
President George Flintstone is to Funny Fred Washington as Abraham Jetson’s dog is to?
Google Desmond Tutu is to Kalamazoo Zoo Park as Zodiac actors Guru is to?
Swamp cradled whisperer is to Cherished drawbridge cello as Bludgeoned prankster outlaws are to?
Dukes pink mittens are to Smeared nest carava
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Where do we meet
    Oh! No He_*
Getting onto
the next courses
Oh La- La "Cheri"
K>ANSAS>>City

_ Prime spot pretty

 let's >- jump ))) To Love
Please raise the horses

What a skirt steak in her
Petticoat Junction
Going to Kansas City affection
Different tribe or breed
What needs to love me
tender Elvis meet Beavis Buthead
    More  T.L.C  
computer DOC Tick Tock
IRS taking a meat beef
chunk is everybody drunk
IOS what is really the meat
Business Politician Trump

Subscribe well done
Cooked or rare spooked
Taking a Spin City kick
She got canned and licked
The prime meat hot seat

The ******* who arrives
first class steak knifes
Ms. Pork hard chew 
Mr. Beans second rate
Dark pumpernickel
Saloon *******, he
is eating
The young tender
chicken leg

High five thigh? Hands
up Robin Fly
Save the meat "let it be"
  "Let it Be" Beatles
The beat Colonel deep fried
Grade A rare meat slicing

Eating in a board meeting
The pig meat market
of pricing

Doe a deer
he loves
International beer
A very sensitive time
Slaughterhouse no way out
His poker face meets
potato heads beef jerky
Surrender Weds
maple smiles picky
The rich Syrup
Disney Mickey Mouse
Kansas City Wonder
meat house

The beauty of animals
"Moms kettle she is talking
to Parrots" meat
the market for rings riot
Six enemies making
6 rounds
Six servants 666 carats
Robin smiles heartily
"Campbells Chicken" little


He's the Beef Man stew
If you only knew

He's spitting tobacco chew
She peels the potato for the
meathead bad to the
T-bone Dachshund I Bone

Garlic knots heart of the
Sausage wearing the
meat corsage Superbowl
My sweet basil good soul
Grilling your bullhead
Pirate Ribeye steak pupils
Mr. "Billygoat" Bachelorette
Hair flat crepe Suzette

Moms Korean style fuss
coleslaw
what a seesaw
Playing Porgy and Bess
 Scarlet the red rare meat
Rolling stone baking pin
Mississippi one or two
Under my meaty thumb

Comes in three-4-5-6- Lucky 7
-Crazy 8 furries
Nine meat ribs-10 babies
with bibs
Hungry Man meat when!!
Country plaid tablecloth
"Kansas Men" of the cloth
The Pig approval
Kansas City Mayor
new arrival

Family together eating
Don't eat our animals
Why is life so unfair
Feeding the poor
with cans
The bad cut of meat devil
this is not the "Grade A"
This is not a ring
circus trainer Bullseye

Robin coffee animal-friendly
Two peas in a pod I pods
  I tune like Gods
Were the luckiest people to have
animals  

The Floridian with dog murals
Palm trees green thumb
plants sunshine events
The symphony dog tails
of hunts
Whats to compare her twilight
eyes hold the moment stare
Talk to the animal's hearts care
The barbecue all the meat men and the women who love their fruit listen to the Owl lady how she hoots those Kansas city slicker boots and the Hehaw have a good time with family and friends treat the animals with tender loving care
Staff Sgt. Joseph D'Augustine
a proud Jersey son
whom Thou hast blessed
laid in St. Luke’s ground
for his heavenly rest
April 4, 2012

1.

in a far off province of
God forsaken Helmand,
our dear son Joey
met his untimely end

an explosive crack
a most terrible sound
felled a beloved Jersey son
to the cold cruel ground

working the live wires
of a well placed IED
a deathly burst killed him
it was awful to see  

Staff Sgt. Joseph D’Augustine
in solemn duty fell
fellow brothers in arms
will forever reverently tell

of courage and character
of a dear fallen friend
and how the valiant warrior
met with death at his end

for he was always faithful
to his beloved corps
comrades couldn't ask
a valiant marine for more


2.

details of his death
are not the real story
selflessness and bravery
are but part of his glory

is it brash to
question why he fell?
in a useless bitter war
an embroiled senseless hell

a generation mustered
to fight in the war on terror
serving four tours of duty
in a lost decade of errors

two tours in Afghanistan and Iraq
could a nation ask a man for more?
for he was always faithful to the call
upholding pledges he hath sworn

3.

the burden of war
to a  few confined
it rarely crosses
an American’s mind

incessant war machine
drones on apace
the horror of conflict
so cleverly displaced

with afternoon baseball
and super bowl parties
big disco paychecks
and other selfish priorities

pay hollow tribute
to dear weary troops
when valor is mentioned
we gather in groups

we’ll raise the flag
sing stirring anthems
than its back to the party
pay it no more attention

self styled patriots
wave handfuls of flags
but ask them to contribute
the zeal soon lags

its left to the few
to shoulder burdens of many
fairness is lost
its a democratic calamity

four tours in a decade
an inhumane task
burdens require sharing
its only fair to ask

Joey was always faithful
to the task at hand
willing to step forward
to serve his homeland


4.

in the wake of 9/11
a nation deeply shaken
young patriots stirred
liberty’s call not forsaken

a call to serve answered
to quell the rise of terror
a clear clarion alarm
marks the nature of the era

Joey boldly came forward
to train and learn
the art of warriors
his bright patriotism burned

deployed to Afghanistan
to capture Osama
routing the Taliban
without much problem

but a pacified Afghan
not enough for Bush
he invaded Iraq
another military push

we rolled into Baghdad
adorned with victors garlands
Saddam’s statue toppled
our troops were honored

deposing a dictators
soon turned to occupation
a ****** mission transformed
to build the Iraqi and Afghan nations

once honored liberators
now a conquering force
bestriding broken nations
on a civil war course

military industrialists
stood to profit most
sweet protracted conflict
record earnings to boast

lives bartered for lucre
a region held hostage
the conflict deepened
hostilities hardened

America dipped into
a great recession
the war machine
bled money and
kept on ticking

scooping up contracts
rewarding investors
the dividends of war
heaven sent treasure

continuation of hostilities
preys on a nation's youth
as casualties mount
ill portents forsoothed

a fraction of citizens
bare heartaches of war
gulping measures of despair
to guard a nations door

a nation always faithful
to the holy pursuit of profit
a highest citizens calling
put money into your pocket


5.

our beloved Jersey son
gave a full measure of devotion
in dress blues they shipped him
back across the ocean

on the Dover tarmac
they received his remains
for a last ride northward
to his hometown terrain

repatriated body
bereft of soul saluted
solemn escort knelt
hearts trembled, tears muted

a hearse for a gallant man
flanked by state troop cruisers
to escort the funeral train
assure an honored movement

one last trip up
old thunder road
the storied highway
Joey often trod

the last detail legged up 17
reverent firefighters saluted  
from overpasses
to honor  the woeful scene

as the motorcade passed
the Garden State Malls
frenzied consumers
failed to notice at all

busy window shoppers
didn't to turn an eye
as Joey rolled home
to the sweet by and by

vets interred at the
Old Paramus Church
gently stirred in their graves
reasons for war they search

Channel 12 Chopper
circled its eye in the sky
televised the sad parade
captured many teary eyes

the early spring blooms
colorful petals displayed
maples and forsythias
a royal carpet laid

spring remains always faithful
as the new season turns
offer sunshine and glory
as our sinking hearts burn

6.

motorcycle escort
northbound lane clear
rolling homeward
Waldwick was near

leaves exploding
green shoots budding
****** white maple blooms
natures accolades stunning

the oaks yet bare
just waking from slumber
winters death passing
a sad day put asunder

the motorcade passed
Joey’s home on Prospect Ave
few  envision lifes endings
this woefully sad

red chevy pickup idles
in hoop crowned driveway
never to drain jumpers again
departed children can’t play

the eye in the sky
framed neighbors in mourning
welcoming back a fallen hero
unsettled emotions dawning

neighbors waved Old Glory
from painted stoops and curbs
unsure how this tragedy
visits this blessed suburb

green grass of home
always flush with spirit
tears welled in the eyes
most difficult to bear it

last cruise of the town
sad neighbors stand witness
paying final due respects
and ponder from a distance

what purpose is served
by this man’s passing?
the dead cannot speak
rationale is for the living

the terrible herse
death circles our town
moves through our day
hope of spring drowned

murderer of sunshine
killer of young flowers
budding trees breaking
our hearts an ashen pallor

we remember the beauty
of Joey’s stout face
as it looked on your finest day
exuding pure honor and grace

old vets gather
donning caps and pins
boasting semper fi jackets
jutting tear dripping chins

shaking hands, giving hugs
bearing tattered banners
the hearse ambles onward
we head home in solemn manner

good folks are always faithful
where beloved ones grew
the death of our children
we sadly cannot undo


7.

the bells of St. Lukes
called out from the sky
platoons of limping vets
marched in with pride

pomp and circumstance
requisite dress blues
family, friends, townsfolk
overflowed the pews

doleful bells resound
tolling a mournful reckon
the cost of war mounts
a family’s loss beckons

the casualties of war
falls upon a nation's youth
a seasons page not  turned
a flowing wound not soothed

the wistful cornet calling
floats on the fluted air
the bereaved ***** gently sounds
a congregations somber despair

an unsettling dirge
the parish grows uneasy
nationalist bravado wanes
in the forlorn sanctuary

both church and flag
draped in colors of war
mock stain glass windows
communicants adore

is it a betrayal of the flag
to offer enemies
psalms of reconciliation?
where does true loyalty lay
with God or a warring nation?

afterall this is a sanctuary
where peace and harmony reigns
are we not called to beat swords
into ploughshares as the highest
calling of our Lord?

we are always faithful
to the pathways to war
when the practice of peace
is what we should adore

8.

coughing and whispers
incessant low murmur
a baby cries out
we sit and remember

the crucifers process
in solemnity to greet
subtle ***** notes salute
a coffin draped in Old Glory sheets

the beloved child welcomed
to his eternal repose
priests splash holy water
within the sacred dome

an amazing grace revealed
lifted by marine pallbearers
dearly departed body presented
gently placed at the altar

a grief struck sister
lovingly eulogizes
recalls tonka trucks,
GI Joe’s and cool transformers

a punch in the nose
an approaching wedding
beckoning Eastertide
vacation plans left begging

my second grade class sent
Christmas cookies and cards
to dear Joey and warrior friends
he said it warmed stark winter hearts

he was raised in this church
taught trust and reconciliation
the comfort of the Lords peace
may it surely go with him

for he was always faithful
to sisters, family and faith
his resurrection service
imbues sacredness
to this space

9.

sharp in dress blues
Eddie T USMC Gunny
big 50 caliber smile
offers his eulogy

Bada Bing Jersey Humvee
we called him Joey Calzones
good mood, loved sausages
he tickled the funny bone

always willing to sacrifice
loved the Patriots Tom Brady
a women dominated household
gave him a way with the ladies

his calling explosive ordinances
he said he was livin the dream
March 6th last time we met
knocking frost off cold ones
man whatta scream

a gallant marine,
beloved brother,
a sure friend
he was always faithful
I’m deeply wounded
by his untimely end


10.

the gospel read
the homily offered
Ecclesiastes wisdom
a time for everything
proffered

God never turns
an eye from the beloved
though seasons change
we are not forsaken
never unloved

as loss arrives
surely grief grows
turn away not
wisdom knows

in resignation
love lay dead
diligent intention
banishes dread

our rekindled hope
we rend and sow
our beloved Joey
knew this was so

our favorite son’s
example taught us
now rises on eagle’s wings
to claim his divine justice

Jesus faithfully tramped
the path to an awful death
Joey too fought the good fight
a warrior now gratefully at rest

The Lord holds him close
to the ***** of sure love
a cantors beatific voice incants
Joey’s spirit that forever enchants

The Lord is always faithful
to the bereaved and  beloved
no one ever forsaken
all unconditionally loved

11.

the Holy Eucharistic cup
affirms everlasting giving
tasted to nourish evermore
a libation for the living

singing the Beatitudes
praising peace makers
mercy filled voice and song  
pallbearers lift Joey’s coffin

off to seek his final peace
an earthly occupation ended
he’ll suffer worldly hate no more
down the aisle his coffin wended

the family closely followed
a mother haltingly sobbing
faithful marines came forth
to steady her wobbling

there is no sudden waking
from this terrible dream
the pungent incense rose
to the chapels sacred beams

the stained glass murals depict
the passion of Jesus’s story
illuming a consuming sorrow
in all its grace filled glory

the ***** of death slinks on again
we search for consolation
the recompense of honor blest
leaves a hollow heart wanting
no answers offered to quell the dark
of these terrible life’s moments
only the desperate need to hold onto
beleaguered treasure that sustains us

for we are always faithful
to the things we know
always faithful to the
things we refuse to let go

12.

the color guard and funeral detail
assembled in front of St. Luke’s
the cemetery right next door
the procession a short troop

the living will stumble through
the darkness of separation
seeking elusive answers
of poignant uncertainty;
all gave some, Joey gave all
nothing more required for his
journey through eternity

Joey will always be with us
his stories forever retold
as long as the machinery of
great nations engage
the gears of wasteful war

Joey’s spirit lives
in a peoples desire
for freedom, only if
our hope of peace
is greater than the
need for conflict

Joey’s lifes work
is sure to bear fruit
if those remaining
fight the good fight
by taking up the
task to protect and
expand the values
of liberty we
hold most dear

like our good
friend Jesus
Joey wears a crown
bejeweled with
a ring of thorns
hoisted on a
terrible cross
the sweet
incense of you
meets our nose
we inhale your
earthly presence
beholding beautifully
adorned crucifix,
a reminder of
unjust persecution
and a perfect
resurrection
yet this wretched
coffin remains

pledging allegiance
we rationalize our
stories, articulating
our small parts
in  heroic sagas,
reciting myths of
ourselves, recording
the grim history of
a young marine
surrounded by
a smart color guard,
feasting on todays
eucharist, this
days sweet taste
of  the daily bread
of human sorrow

The priest finishes
his graveside
commendation
of Joey D

Taps conclude
a wind rises
crows take flight
winging over
a stand of budding
Sugar Maples
exploding in white
blooms, reveling
in the glorious
sunshine of this
magnificent day

St. Luke’s stairway to
God Country and Home
smiling portrait of you
forever young

we surround your grave
to bless the earth
you've returned home
to your place of birth

our flowing pride
and salty tears bless
the anointed ground
that you loved best

a proud Jersey son
whom Thou hast blest
laid in St. Luke’s ground
for his heavenly rest

for he was always faithful
to the blessed land
forever at peace
in the soils sure hands

Charles Ives
The Unanswered Question

Oakland
11/10/13
jbm
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2018
It’s on everyone's eyeline
the flying clouds spill the treasure sea
raining down on this perfectly placed mural.

The Queen of Sheba tiptoes on this way
King Solomon keeps an ear on the ground
only to find seas of silent blooms already
musing dipping in the sun kissed dews
on gently tilted roses that won’t drop down
not from this picture perfect navel-high!

Velvety rose up from the ground
forever green earth is hanging low
in the dew on the rose that won’t fall.
Blossoming, eying on a acute high
evermore hopeful to scale high aspiring
to the faraway awaiting heaven’s pool.
There the spotlight won’t move  
to the north or south nor up or down until
Queen Fathima the Queen of Heaven steps on
spot on on the ‘as above so below’ *****.

There the newly resurrected earth will be primed
its minted atom’s vibration will hit out of the park
for the first time rising atop the navel high.
Perfectly wrap atom’s circle finally turns on,
the stepping stone one that has no pi decimal hole.  
Pure scientia on the door of paradise shall hang on
lo the numerically perfect Queen Fathima to step on!

God willing she will work in beauty
the most sought after perfect works of art,
the lost masterpiece not in translation
but in the pi decimal hole in earthly deep
lo the gleaning sleeping beauty peeps
trailing the role model Queen.

Fathima the first woman entering paradise  
walks the walk perfect straight numerically precise.
Like she knew back from the earth
the murals ahead hanging on the paradise wall
mathematically exact!
Mirrors of imaginations anew wonders on heaven’s way
in the murals at the golden section on the navel high.

She zoom passes the ever spinning atom's perfect span
cemented tangent at the entrance of paradise.  
Yet leaves no foot print like she never did
on sublunary earth, new ponder in the old classic eyes,
oh pi still irrational, wonder in measured navel high!
While writing this poem I had a feeling that the navel stands in the golden ratio section. Then after penning the poem when I checked I found this thesis: The Math Behind the Beauty argues that "Leonardo da Vinci's drawings of the human body emphasised its proportion. The ratio of the following distances is the Golden Ratio: (foot to navel) : (navel to head)".
veritas Jul 2018
gods and goddesses stilled mid-flight,
immortalized in a glory fast fading.
distilled sunlight filtering through, unheeded,
as a devastating dawn for redemption awakens.

     dust scattering over marble hands, forever supple,
as angels fall from grace,
wings clipped and torn asunder.

the sigh of a thousand lost souls, searching;
the thunder of a thousand chariots, unbridled.

     a wing outstretched, a bow pulled taught;
drawn, not fired.

frozen heroes lifting voices unheard;
     the calm before a storm, a fight unforeseen,
silver linings beckoning victories
of heaven's epics left unsung.

look up into the clouds and you'll see a history unwritten,
for they speak to you in murals
of smeared colors and pure light.

but hush! sweet child,
off you drift into an insincere sleep,
until these stories buried beneath your lips,
     singed, searing, burning away memories of the battles that
   linger ,over your tongue  ,
are no more than a shadow of a flame.

   and as his lashes flutter closed over blue eyes
   and his heavy golden curls fall on white sheets
   she whispers,
        the renaissance was not painted for you.
look up. and then higher than that.
K Balachandran Jan 2016
After dark, energies flow in manners that pleases them most
braided together in lust, two king cobras were seen spiraling up
when darkness like a camouflage sets in thickly around,you're
the  marijuana of my mind, seeking far horizons of pleasure.
I willingly seek oblivion, when pink pointed goosebumps
like tarantula's love bites, results of mating time cruelty
infest all over my body's landscape, signatures of ecstasy.

I feel your lips become, moist, soft, honey from each drips
never enough,for me, is it possible to get inebriated more?
Your sighs and moans speak the vocabulary of a forgotten
ancient language love hurriedly resurrected for us from past,
brevity is the crux of that lingo of erupting jets of desire,
it teaches you to moan in fifty different tones in all;even more?

Your sharpened nails etch cave murals on my itching back
that has the searing taste of blood, in hot hot chilly red.
my taste buds of lust, begs for more and more of it.
You are the marijuana fueling my narcotic flights that land
in your misty land, enveloping my senses as a whole.
"The night is still young, hear what the darkness whispers"
I hear you speak like an oracle, on things about to happen.
Nigel Morgan Mar 2013
January Colours

In the winter garden
of the Villa del Parma
by the artist’s studio
green
grass turns vert de terre
and the stone walls
a wet mouse’s back
grounding neutral – but calm,
soothing like calamine
in today’s mizzle,
a permanent dimpsey,
fine drenching drizzle,
almost invisible, yet
saturating skylights
with evidence of rain.

February Colours

In the kitchen’s borrowed light,
dear Grace makes bread  
on the mahogany table,
her palma gray dress
bringing the outside in.

Whilst next door, inside
Vanessa’s garden room
the French windows
firmly shut out this
season’s bitter weather.

There, in the stone jar
beside her desk,
branches of heather;
Erica for winter’s retreat,
Calluna for spring’s expectation.

Tea awaits in Duncan’s domain.
Set amongst the books and murals,
Spode’s best bone china  
turning a porcelain pink
as the hearth’s fire burns bright..

Today
in this house
a very Bloomsbury tone,
a truly Charleston Gray.

March Colours

Not quite daffodil
Not yet spring
Lancaster Yellow
Was Nancy’s shade

For the drawing room
Walls of Kelmarsh Hall
And its high plastered ceiling
Of blue ground blue.

Playing cat’s paw
Like the monkey she was
Two drab husbands paid
For the gardens she made,
For haphazard luxuriance.

Society decorator, partner
In paper and paint,
She’d walk the grounds
Of her Palladian gem
Conjuring for the catalogue
Such ingenious labels:

Brassica and Cooking Apple
Green
to be seen
In gardens and orchards
Grown to be greens.

April Colours

It would be churlish
to expect, a folly to believe,
that green leaves would  
cover the trees just yet.

But blossom will:
clusters of flowers,
Damson white,
Cherry red,
Middleton pink,

And at the fields’ edge
Primroses dayroom yellow,
a convalescent colour
healing the hedgerows
of winter’s afflictions.

Clouds storm Salisbury Plain,
and as a skimming stone
on water, touch, rise, touch
and fall behind horizon’s rim.
Where it goes - no one knows.

Far (far) from the Madding Crowd
Hardy’s concordant cove at Lulworth
blue
by the cold sea, clear in the crystal air,
still taut with spring.

May Colours

A spring day
In Suffield Green,
The sky is cook’s blue,
The clouds pointing white.

In this village near Norwich
Lives Marcel Manouna
Thawbed and babouched
With lemurs and llamas,
Leopards and duck,
And more . . .

This small menagerie
Is Marcel’s only luxury
A curious curiosity
In a Norfolk village
Near to Norwich.

So, on this
Blossoming
Spring day
Marcel’s blue grey
Parrot James
Perched on a gate
Squawks the refrain

Sumer is icumen in
Lhude sing cuccu!
Groweþ sed and bloweþ med
And springþ þe wde nu,
Sing cuccu!

June

Thrownware
earth red
thrown off the ****
the Japanese way.
Inside hand does the work,
keeps it alive.
Outside hand holds the clay
and critically tweaks.
Touch, press, hold, release
Scooting, patting, spin!
Centering: the act
precedes all others
on the potter’s wheel.
Centering: the day
the sun climbs highest
in our hemisphere.
And then affix the glaze
in colours of summer:
Stone blue
Cabbage white
Print-room yellow
Saxon green
Rectory red

And fire!

July Colours

I see you
by the dix blue
asters in the Grey Walk
via the Pear Pond,
a circuit of surprises
past the Witches House,
the Radicchio View,
to the beautifully manicured
Orangery lawns, then the
East and West Rills of
Gertrude’s Great Plat.

And under that pea green hat
you wear, my mistress dear,
though your face may be April
there’s July in your eyes of such grace.

I see you wander at will
down the cinder rose path
‘neath the drawing-room blue sky.

August Colours

Out on the wet sand
Mark and Sarah
take their morning stroll.
He, barefoot in a blazer,
She, linen-light in a wide-brimmed straw,
Together they survey
their (very) elegant home,
Colonial British,
Classic traditional,
a retreat in Olive County, Florida:
white sandy beaches,
playful porpoises,
gentle manatees.

It’s an everfine August day
humid and hot
in the hurricane season.
But later they’ll picnic on
Brinjal Baigan Bharta
in the Chinese Blue sea-view
dining room fashioned
by doyen designer
Leta Austin Foster
who ‘loves to bring the ocean inside.
I adore the colour blue,’ she says,
‘though gray is my favourite.’

September

A perfect day
at the Castle of Mey
beckons.
Watching the rising sun
disperse the morning mists,
the Duchess sits
by the window
in the Breakfast Room.
Green
leaves have yet to give way
to autumn colours but the air
is seasonably cool, September fresh.

William is fishing the Warriner’s Pool,
curling casts with a Highlander fly.
She waits; dressed in Power Blue
silk, Citron tights,
a shawl of India Yellow
draped over her shoulders.
But there he is, crossing the home beat,
Lucy, her pale hound at his heels,
a dead salmon in his bag.

October Colours

At Berrington
blue
, clear skies,
chill mornings
before the first frosts
and the apples ripe for picking
(place a cupped hand under the fruit
and gently ‘clunch’).

Henry Holland’s hall -
just ‘the perfect place to live’.
From the Picture Gallery
red
olent in portraits
and naval scenes,
the view looks beyond
Capability’s parkland
to Brecon’s Beacons.

At the fourteen-acre pool
trees, cane and reed
mirror in the still water
where Common Kingfishers,
blue green with fowler pink feet
vie with Grey Herons,
funereal grey,
to ruffle this autumn scene.

November Colours

In pigeon light
this damp day
settles itself
into lamp-room grey.

The trees intone
farewell farewell:
An autumnal valedictory
to reluctant leaves.

Yet a few remain
bold coloured

Porphry Pink
Fox Red
Fowler
Sudbury Yellow


hanging by a thread
they turn in the stillest air.

Then fall
Then fall

December Colours*

Green smoke* from damp leaves
float from gardens’ bonfires,
rise in the silver Blackened sky.

Close by the tall railings,
fast to lichened walls
we walk cold winter streets

to the warm world of home, where
shadows thrown by the parlour fire
dance on the wainscot, flicker from the hearth.

Hanging from our welcome door
see how incarnadine the berries are
on this hollyed wreath of polished leaves.
1.

When I
was young
I listened to
Billy the Kid

I galloped
across the
living room floor
giddy upping
in an ecstatic
square dance
with my beloved
America

excitedly
enraptured
boundlessly
enthralled
in youthful
zeal
ebulliently  
yodeling
hymns
whistling
reveries to
America’s
heroic prairie
songs

a precocious
kinder beaming  
moved and illumined
by the broiling fanfare
of trilling trumpets

to uphold the promise
I pledged allegiance
to diligent  work
galloping onward
on ponies of
reverent faith
respectful duty
playful engagement
and guardianship

2.

expectation
never fell short
of resounding
supranaturalistic
optimism

energising
the sweep of
a nation’s
self evident
exceptionalism

our democratic
vista stirred
and steeped

a nation of
wheelwrights
building
wagon trains
to traverse
stratified latitudes
with sturdy ladders
erected with common
sense sensibility
of hands to work
and hearts to God

earthen
yeoman
dancing in
wheat fields
threshing sheaves
of prosperity
their exertions
elevating
families
raising
a glorious chorus,
a peeling crescendo
of horns of plenty
splayed across
landscapes of
an ennobled
nation
placing fruits
of labor upon
ascendent
alters to
to receive
the anointing
of abundance

the lighted grace
of infinite possibilities
shines for a grueling
world listening to the
clamouring drumbeats
sounding in the hearts
of all grace anointed
republicans


3.  

No lullabies
no quiet moonlit nights
we ardently
dance on keys
boasting soul
filled dexterity
the quick self
assuredness
extemporaneously
jazz tapping
across bold
hidden rondos
grasping
transcendence
squarely set
in the minds eye
of unbroken resolve
our cool countenance
an unassailable
righteous destination

any
spare sweeping
plaintive introspection
lends space to
affirm
an
affirmation
beginning
with the individual
unum to e pluribus

solitary dancers
incorporated into
fully enfranchised
troopers

the gyrations
the rhythms and steps
of individuated melodies
join to form a harmonious whole
a beautifully woven consensus

this democratic symphony
perfected in an intelligent
choreography of
separate people
sojourning  
toward
a mutually
constructed
shared destiny

aspirational desires
call forth generations
of spirits boldly engaging
the challenges upholding
the rights and privilege
of all citizens
the celebratory harvest
of a new nations
natural law


4.

As a man
I cruise
along
Main Street
in a joyless
joy ride
gliding by
disassembled
factories
moldering schools
defunct governments

surveying the
demolished ruins
of cities,
the decrepit
wrecking ball
of history
is busy,
rolling through
towns
not worthy
of cast iron
destruction
forged in
foreign kilns

we built palaces
to democracy
in the tiniest hamlets
dotting the granges
wholly assimilated
into a national congress
of freemen

today our
congress
is scattered
dialog seeking
resolution is considered
betrayal to holy
partisanship...

selfish insistence
masquerades as
high ideals

portraiture
of obstinance
is a grotesque
reflection
of virtue

we have
reduced
the peoples
house

to a battlefield
for tribes…..

once freemen
now captives….

soulless ghosts
wandering lost
inside grand
rotundas...

mocked
by murals
and inert
granite statuary
howling
expiration dates
of timeless
psalms

sojourning
the trail of tears
drinking from bowls
of anguish

our only
respite
the silent
ruins we
find impossible
to leave

fear fills our bellies
rust stains our hearts
abiding acrimony
ain’t easily brushed
from dust laden cloths

the deconstruction
of dead cities, mark
expired civilizations
centuries in the making
hammered by the blows
of the mightiest blacksmiths
with precision and deft craft


5.

the spareness of
Martha Graham's set
frame black shadows
of fortitude

it always starts
with the individual

then surely
sure footedness
measured footsteps
boldly dance about
the lily pads
of the keyboard
a resounding ballet
the arms wave
like swaying stalks of wheat
but hurry to respond
opportunity knocks
conditions change
the group awaits
to be joined

my pirouette
remains my solitary mark
on the weaving spindles
crafting the mosaic
of a complex American
complexion

the possibility
the promise
laid before us
wheat fields
of democracy
tilled planted
attended

the wondrous yields of
an Appalachian Spring
the promise
hectare of grace
apportioned to all
citizens

the promise
harvest of liberty
freedom
of opportunity
all anointed
freemen
conferred an
amazing grace

civil discourse
was once spoken
we can learn the
lost languages again
sitting on the porch
with neighbors
sipping ice tea
sharing thoughts on
hot summer evenings
caring too care

but scoundrels
became heroes
we fetishized
idiosyncrasies
of insisted
entitlement

we ******
the whole by
exalting the part

we dare not condemn them
lest we condemn ourselves




6.

the west was once woolly wild
I hear the sweeping sound
of my youth rustle again
the dramatic symphony
of a brilliant people
filled with courage
undeterred optimism
claiming a continent
manifesting a new
Pax Americana
a century
of immigrants  

coming to integrate
coming to assimilate
coming to believe in the promise
coming to make a new promise

I came to hear Copland
when I was young

when America was young
when promises were made
and sworn by a brilliant
fanfare of trumpets

when America was young
Copland composed
when America was young
a promise was made

come forth brothers
come forth sisters
come claim
the promise
of a simple gift


Aaron Copland:
Billy The Kid

11/29/11
Oakland
jbm
She was lost in East L.A.
She was told she could be found
That she’d feel something profound
Once she walked over the streets
Once she would smell, touch and hear
Once she read the signs
Admired the murals
And entered each Laundromat.
Eliana Jan 2014
If I have silent walls
Beautifully and meticulously painted
With my words
Then my family
Is a city coated
In pretty, lying murals
Uninhabited
Only under close scrutiny
By one who knows it well.
This probably (definitely) needs editing, but I don't care.
Clay Face Feb 2019
My leg hurts

The jaws of this inhumane trap engulf my lower shin

I have the tool to disarm it and free myself

But I muttle in my adolescent egocentric pain

Caught within monotonous routine and self interest I rot like my peers

I've sunk to a level of self loathing, that I enjoy pulling myself down

I

Am

Disgusting.

I

Need

Help.

I cry for things I can give myself but alas I withhold it to feel sorry for myself

Me and my fellow youth

Equally as useful, equally as useless

Although I am free of the crowd I am still blinded by my adolescence

Purpose

Interest

Intellect

Great-fullness

Peacefulness

Gen­erosity

Love

PURPOSE

all I've know is I am here to be a vessel for knowledge and indoctrination

I am here to have an opinion I voice, but does not matter.

I do not matter.

This function is welded to me

However...

The voice of destiny reasons with me again and I hear:

Seek what's within

Garrot it.

Place yourself into the walls of meaning and the murals upon't

Serve others in selflessness. Share with others in selflessness. Learn from others in selflessness. Teach others in selflessness.

Your a pawn in the samsara. Do your duty within its game.

Gain higher consciousness so you can share the path to it. Become a giver, not a taker.

Interest

Intellect

Great-fullness

Peacefulness

Genero­sity

Love

Six lessons left, define yourself within them. Or perish within your self indulgent pitiful hole.
Got a Tool lyric in there for those who like Tool

Anyway...

This is the firt lesson of my ascension

After more than some self reflection I thought I was ready to post a kind of collection of what I've found so far. Obviously I haven't reached ascension yet. So it's kind of unfit to call this collection ascension. It's more of some lessons I've learned in self reflection and my path to ascension I want to pursue throughout my life. Hope you take something away from this or be influence to write poetry yourself. Maybe do some of your own self reflection I don't know. Thanks for reading if you got this far. Sorry I am a quite person IRL so everything I vent here is pretty long.
dafne Jan 2017
after flipping through 10 digit sequences and never finding the right call,
insecurities rose as frequent as the sunrise,
and i created a wall with murals on one side, and brick on the other,
making sure whoever rang me would only hear the voice of a simple cold "hello",
i did not want to pick up the phone and create fires for people who were going to water me down,
expose my murals and let spectators decline and walk away,
i'd rather know they saw nothing and left because they never witnessed the real version of me, only taking in brick walls, hearing dials instead of voices, ears listening to the robotic sound of answering machines and not the melodies from within me, staying awake only to watch the sunset, but be gone before the sunrise.
it was frightening to think some drifted away after eyes peeled from brick, saw murals, took in melodies, read words painted down endless roads of feeling, stayed for the sunrise, and picked up the phone to find me on the other side,
the shaking feeling resonated inside, the wondering that would never end, are pieces of me missing, or were there too many?
telephone series
Dustin Holbrook Aug 2012
++every now and then i’ll look again
out an opposite window to see
the same things, in the same light
i asked for peace
and to fill my head with perspective
i’d look you in the eyes
but this recurring scenery
sets me back face down
where my eyes pierce the air
to the gouged and grave ground
the colorful bracelet i wear
doesn’t mean as much as i wish
you would
i’ll hang you so high
i’ll hang you from a street light
if it meant you’d be there
but we don’t have many of those around here
i guess the silo
would fit your ego
and the tractor will knock it down
to be collected and fed to the world
...
if i ever got the chance
to make my way to the moon
the only place
where you haven’t been found
i’d write your name in the dust
like atop the mountain
where we made love
but the wind was hot that day
and the woods blocked the sound
of the fault giving way
to our blanket and our bodies
so we dove deep down
where i’ve stayed until today
i’ve lived and breathed
all the air beneath the seas
in an open field where i cut my knees
the grass breaks to wheat
i was either born again or realized home was dead
and the high school i attended
tried to coat the walls in my tongue too
put a pump jack to my lips
tried to surface the words i said
but i’ll say it again, i’m mine until i’m dead
don’t make me say it again, i’m mine until i’m dead

++in italy, where all the roads are made of dirt
the pebbles make a sound
and whisper the rest of what we know
to the gouged and gravel ground
your fingers touch the stones
where your mind seems to seep
down into the earth
and back up through your teeth
your hair is cut so short
compared to what it was
your arm is torn to tethers
that keep your body bound
leather like the face of love
so beaten like the wooden screen
...
through and through, and threw
your scarf
into the wind
into the snow
bright beaming colors wrap around your lips
and into the drain
around the brick
i’d wish for the patterns i sleep with
to be everything they could
in the sense that light won’t ever slow
so pace yourself against the wind
the gears will turn as you type them in
the hammers have been built
and the hand shakes have been firm
coordination isn’t key
but opens the door to the fighting alone
but i’ll say it again, i can make it on my own
don’t make me say it again, i can make it on my own

++i want a movie inside my mind
like the arms of her dress
burying books in the sand
on a black, flat stage
on every morbid wednesday
(the beach blonde scars
on every bleach blonde head)
your face looks squished
from the weight of your brain
juggles ignorance
i’ve done things i regret
but wouldn’t take back
that’s called sorry
it’s all called something sorry
...
like blue synthesis capsules
full floating, flying
lick the side to make sure tiles flow
automatic black glass
opaque lights
glowing blue lines keep the glue on tight
hospital bracelets keep your archetypes
fatherly fatherly fatherly hugs
inside the apartment
kicking the front steps
porches absent on our heads
your green t-shirt
taken off quickly
and faded blue jeans
with no belt to lock them
ready and not waiting for no one to jump in
off the dock in new jersey
at the palisades cliffs
i felt the back of your neck just before your lips
the scars from your dad melted away
they morphed into something pretty
and i remember you gripped
on the wood where we sat
and all my dead cells begged to be brought back
as we both looked into the other
a blue blanket and a pillow too white to be confused
with anything other than something owned by you
apart so quickly, laid content and prepared
to wake up and die
like any sane person would do
(for us the tiny grains of sand meet the hanging paper lamps
lines next to curves next to lines
is a way to write what we said)
but i’ll say it again, i’ll never give in
don’t make me say it again, i’ll never give in

++clear plastic ridges
painted a lovesick sky
(cut the sun with the branches
your eyes, your eyes, your eyes)
timidly timidly timidly
you said look at the moon
but i’d rather see you
your face looks better sideways
like the way you walk
outside when the moons orbit the halo
you never folded up
or tried to conceal inside
like the treaty you signed
around the insulation
that dampers your thought process
that dictates your walking steps
(love and LSD
blood and rusted trees)
on top of the world
falling through the streets
the scents are the same
and remind me of safety
that i applied to the dimension of the squared and faulty
lines
buy i’ll say it again, i hate that you’ve absorbed others’ dreams
don’t make me say it again, i hate that you’ve absorbed others’ dreams

++(i would like to smell a pool)
i think we lost it all
but it happened while we lost ourselves
or we’re knitted together perfectly
so we’ll never understand the whole scheme of things
i wish you’d tell me everything
you’ve become a mold that all your friends will fit into
the opposite of trees
we will **** it down through our feet
(not through our teeth)
I will wear my bandana once again
blue stained gold
even your hair has lost most of the effect
that it had on my soul
colorado was a place to remember
where i remember you most
even though we never went there alone
should i be glad i no longer feel the pain
or sad it’s not there?
because what that entails is me  not caring
and forgetting that you even forgot
you’re forgetting how it felt
you remind me of my dad
how every thing’s connected
and you stay away from the earth
and touching the ground
and we know i’m intuitive
so it means something when i say things
it means i’m right on some phase
or some plane of things
don’t tell me you’re not falling because i’ve seen it too many times
to mistake it for anything other
than what the passed over people do
it’s hard to look forward
and tougher to take a step
part of finding what you want is saying it’s there
but catch up into the trailer
fibres into the helium we wear
the generations have not been remembered
...
(the murals on the walls fade to intersectional colors)
...
primary walks into a green room
and says we’ve never made a thing
to make our lives better
and he talks about what’s underground
he talks about the padding on the seats
how that’s where we should’ve stopped
we’ve been backwards since the beginning
we’ve been backwards from the start
but i’ll say it again, i’m alive, i’m falling apart
don’t make me say it again, i’m alive and i’m falling parts
Zack Nov 2012
My Sunglasses

I’ve got all of Tucson trapped behind my sunglasses
I’ve framed mountain ranges in the frames of my Raybands
I’ve got reflections of saguaro’s stranding still in front of my eyes
I have sunny days taking refuge underneath my shades
I’ve domesticated the giant star that rides blues skies into walking the edge of my brow
I use black plastic as onyx shields
So Tucson, I see you.
There’s an art revolution beating at your horizon
I’ve seen it skirting around these wastelands
They tell us we’re wasting our time
Telling the roadrunner to run back home
When its nest was here since the beginning of time
Tucson.
I’ve seen folklorico and mariachi pay tribute to your origins on the hottest of days
I’ve seen in the shadows in underground art forms
Graffetti. There’s a protest in there somewhere.
I’ve even witnessed it in pen to paper
In lips to mics. In cafés in your desert nights for your desert nighttime audiences.
Tucson, your culture and artistic value shines too bright for others to see.
Your artistic worth shines too bright for others to broadcast
They tend to only record your overdoses and murders
Seems like our televised story tellers prefer to paint us in immoral reds
The only time they pay the south side attention is when the south side is aching
It doesn’t help that schools force you to choose business
Give you chance to study law all the while cut out your art programs
Fine art is required by universities but they don’t always expect you to get that far.
Tucson’s fine art is too fine and infinite to be recognized by those undeserving
Society wants to capture our southern brethren as outlaws not poets
We’re called the misfit of the desert. As if every spray can, paint stroke, choreographed twist,
Slam poem wasn’t something to take pride in.
I’m sorry they only pay your schools attention when ambulances are parked in your driveways
And administrators get caught in doing ***** deeds.
I see your talent wasted. Your talent shown.
To remind myself of your artistic significance, I’ve framed you
On walks home I photograph your murals.
Listen to the poets in the hallways.
Observe the dancers compose and the musicians choreograph
I’ve caught your reflection in my corneas’.
I’ve dilated my pupils thoughts behind my sunglasses.
Framed your mountain ranges in my frames.
Took cover in your shades.
Trained the artistic freedom and right to walk on my brow
Tucson
I see you.
#sunglasses #tucson #SLAMPOETRY #beetchez.
Kyle Janisch Sep 2016
Carved out words, placed upon flesh
Sleepless nights curse me;
Yet there is no need for rest
My mind is heavy
For this is my burden
I feel there is no place for me;
In the world I was born in
Dark thoughts trouble my mind
Third eye wide open;
Yet I still remain blind
Upon flesh I place thee
Murals of regret
Hoping that one day
I will finally get rest
skyler Nov 2017
she painted red murals
of beauty and grace
of lovers in bed
in faultless embrace

she crafted these masterpieces
with red poured from skin
to show how misery ceases
when you pull beauty from within

s.s
Connor Jul 2017
I - Sunrise at Futamiguara/Revealed Intent

The piano on fire/
echoing throats of crystal

Village Mystics resign their title for a quick drowning

(dream)

Wedded-Rocks tide
together while Tsunami rolls in

(Izanagi / Izanami withstand the thrashing)

Japanese Autumn
welcomed as I watch a tinted rose unfold its cloaked chaos

(wherein a panther heeds its calling)

My heart has revealed itself at last


II - Love

bristling zeal/
halycon eyes & Haitian drums
aid the muscles
christening scene-

- bridal dancer pollinates a sleepers teeth in love poems fused with salt

&labor keeps the diaphragm sky
(with pinneedle clouds) afloat

I temper the image tilled with pen/sometimes it doesn't feel enough

(the shadow devours itself)

III - Conservatory of Music/Child Complex

Each gate of heaven its own sound

each device of wrath like doorstep-

-chimes (miracle)

or a whimper dashing through a lake
(vision of pallbearer)

gas heater/
the central puppeteer is dimmed, enjoying his contemplation of the (crafting)
day

999 violet walkup,
I can faintly hear what sounds like a private fountain

   (misguided flamingos bathe here
   and die
     during ***-season
    
   (panting)
  
IV - Joyful Soul/Reconciliation

   Year of water,
  exiting the glassness

which
  once showered me in doubt
  
-remove the cause

... and discarding my obligations
(they have only been actors)

undoing-
where phoenix-mind
owes/
erudite/the staggered
  single conversation between grace & naivety/

Balinese temples smeared in
  urns
(******) ash & brass &

frame of fade (childhood) yearning for bedsheets and harmonica temperature

V - Reminder/Ocean Choir

(tiger tiger burning bright/amplify your helplessly

joyful your motion
the motion of eager
island-seashells
  repeating archaic
     imitations (meditative)

VI - Painterly Woman/Temporary Gladness/Objective in Medium

my family is
sculpted by candles countless candles
(shadow dancer)

-inhaling holidays

I nightmare
     skin emerging from my bedroom wall
the

suggested image written with higher potential imaginative range than the act of looking at a "described" moment on a canvas. As one suggests their own image in writing while as painting assumes its own image for you. The reverse transaction. One cannot author a paintings beauty such as one sculpts the image from ink. Both are as immediately beautiful. Different mediums for different objectives (or rather methods we use to achieve this objective)

VII - Unattainable

Pine drum;winking
fashionable clothmats
copulate for silk and ever purer
silk
ever purer
(silk)))       the child universe

will bleed like
gardenbed

(amen/doldrum/amen(doldrum) amen)

VIII - Spring

Aware (zen taste) - moment evokes a more intense, nostalgic sadness connected with Autumn and the vanishing away of the world

This is the unbinding of words
as my terrific dead lover of disaster
put it-

(Somehow the unforgotten
name remains lavish, after all this reconfiguring, the infertile soil we attempted to escape,
the shade we hid in once like a peacock's coat, somehow the name, your name

remains clean)
we wuz celebratin
40 years of Hip Hop
at 5 Pointz

dashing tags
reclaiming the
lost land

speaking for a
community of peeps
routed from their
last stand

making statements
about remembering

tellin stories
about ourselves

giving the drab
dead industrial
sarcophagi a
a face lift

freeing the
entombed
mummies
to let em
walk with
the living
again

seein things
in a new light

reciting our
biographies

writing an epic
autobiography

splashed across
3D murals

spoken in the
lexicon of
gobsmack
multicolored
neon graffiti

testifying to
the ages with
our urban
hieroglyphs

the symbols of
life in the hood
may history be our
witness to aromas
rising from cracked
pavements teaming
with bodegas,
public projects and
store front fantasies
played out in all its
grueling detail
on the corner of
walk don’t walk

them snaps
real down home
expressions
of real people

until some
capitalist
*******

his pockets filled
with low interest
money

whitewashed
it away

he thinks he
owns the
5 Pointz

he thinks
he can
erase our
memories
with a gallon of
Sherwin Williams

he thinks
he owns our
perdido
graffito

and is well
in his rights
to launder our  
epiphanies over
with the bland
tag of privilege
he thinks his
dollar bills
can buy

we raised this
place from
the dead

that old warehouse
where men and women
once earned a paycheck
was murdered by
Michael Milken
and his posse of well
heeled predators
busy leveraging
livelihoods by
offshoring them
to Third World
plantations
transforming
the natives into
wage slaves
tagging this
strange alchemy
progress

now this
latest incarnation of
Morley’s Ghost stalking
Bloomberg’s Metropolis
haunts the neighborhoods
with a wrecking ball
of entitlement

razing our hood
to build soulless
high rises where
they'll warehouse
dead people
ginned up
on pilates,
chai tea and
elevating
themselves
through life
scoring the
latest fab
yoga gear
on the
urban outfitters
website

the frackers
are gobbling
the land

strip miners are
gnashing away
at the mountains

now the predators
are eating our art

always famished
never satiated
the beast gnaws
away at its
**** scattering
the bones of
of the living

but this
half assed
midnight
whitewash
will never stand

already images
of the holy ghosts
scrawled onto
the Wailing Walls
of 5 Pointz are
bleeding through
the veneer of a
landlords greed

and as the
future tenants
of the proposed
highrise columbarium
snooze away the night
dreaming of leading roles
in star studded schemes

we’ll be taggin
the streets
reciting our
righteous presence
until our last dying
aerosol breath
escapes our
paint stained
hands

Public Enemy:
Fight the Power

Oakland
11/20/13
jbm
http://nypost.com/2013/11/20/5-pointz-fans-try-to-retag-legendary-graffiti-building/
Paraps XXIV

Messiah of Judah

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

Miracle I  Limassol

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

Jaffa  Ioannis regression

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

Second Miracle  Holy sepulcher

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

Silence  Painful way

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

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

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

1st Station of the Cross in Silence

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

2nd Station of the Cross

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


3rd Station of the Cross

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

4th Station of the Cross

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

5th Station of the Cross

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

6th Station of the Cross

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

7th Station of the Cross

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

8th Station of the Cross

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

9th Station of the Cross

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

9th-14th Stations of the Cross

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


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

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

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



Paraps XXV

Messiah of Judah II part

Miracle III - Nazareth

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

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

*** bei Hinnom  Crypto-Crucified

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

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

Hex Birthright

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

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

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



Paraps XXVI

Messiah of Judah III part

Miracle IV- Baptistery

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

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

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

Kafersuseh. One-Dimensional Beams

More than two thousand years ago there was a mischievous infant who looked and looked curiously at the beams when he was born in Bethlehem..., especially ones that crossed! This happened in the polarity of the magnetic stable of Bethlem in a portal on adjoining hills that received him overflowing. This glorious empowered looked at the beams that wore ingenious crosses, seeing himself there being still an unborn he knew that when he was born he would already leave this unborn universe. Above the trusses that riveted the frame, he approached with his lonely gaze above the roof being able to see some beings of light organizing a Eucharist on the roof of his stable two thousand years ago that could be more than an edict that he would inaugurate the sagacity of caring for and giving newborns what many wanted to see but few knew who he really was, even having no record of him or his lineage lost in the middle of the strips of hay. Says the Messiah: "A few minutes ago, or more than two thousand years ago...? I counted the times that the Res waggled its tail, and I realized that he already had selected visions in Kafersuseh, higher than the ceiling of the beams..., in the sunroom, some outcasts also visit me, reborn and loving. It even has to be detected that someone came from far away but arrived late, I was only able to observe him know how to join him to my pariah criteria. He was tidying up the altar receiving orders from the unsupportable upward hardwood scaffolding telling him so; "That everyone is in alliances lining up for those who didn't fit in the stable." I looked at the roof of the barn seeing beyond...being able to verify that my custodians were there preparing the beams on the plugs that crossed each other to climb to greater viewpoints after rubbing the rough coatings of their flogged texture like whips from the underworld of Elpenor. That gentleman remained, and not when I lost sight of him with mine as a child-man, since only he distinguished me but not so the beings of light. The disillusioned Eucharist was being consecrated. I never rested in looking, resting in a forever, because I saw that my eyes became fringed lights in the lasting oscillation of the chants of the reveille or the tri sonar of the shofar. During this time a rising angel appeared, trying to get in and out then he belatedly decided to join the group of shepherds who were herding their sheep in the fields near Bethlehem, and he told them that he brought good news because the Messiah the savior of the world had been born. The shepherds left everything to go in search of the newborn since the angel told them that they would find me sleeping or in dormancy..., but I was not staying on the manger, since I was up in the space of three sounds of bells, almost farther than close to those who announced my advent. After three sounds of bells, three shepherds of light came down from the roof seeing in me that they recognized your minds, thus being they who blessed my journey on a day in the Middle East, even being on a roof next to the paradise that I officiated in the splendor and perfection of the world as a man-child not far from the magician outcasts, who parodied all the songs always with followers of Zoroaster and my Kafersuseh up to Gethsemane and towards my mother. The Messiah was still abstracted looking at the sky while he was busy putting his body to sleep. There is no doubt that his unfolded being made him move his first steps in original words that alluded to a game of learning to give the first in Judean usage on the stables.His disconcerted hands of his body made dance stories of those who were close to him, making only about fifty grouped there in watermarks that ran like seconds within urgent minutes without time gathered in the Jewish dawn of Eretz-Israel. Saint John the Apostle says: "God is concerned about the material world and about this creature of His that predetermines us. This is the amazing thing about the Father and the Son. Behold... I will walk in the dark, not in the light. So you will see the trait that not a lifetime will take me to know which in its similarity and who inherits the body and soul of it as in the hands of a bumblebee. I feel love over the hate of others, I see the light that could be a self-confidence to those who resound in their tired and inattentive ears, maybe that way they will see when they can see better without listening attentively to the sound of the bumblebee. I see the verses fly and how they fall one by one on my soul in order obeying the flocks early, like a herd ordering those who one after another look at each other later ordering the perfect law of the beginning in a reconciled end "In that instant, fragrances of the dense flowers in water transmitted the anxiety of those who wanted to continue listening ecstatic and fragrant, but as they got rid of their presumptions they fell into the abyss on the banks of the cliff garden of Malaki, where many of them coughed or cleared their throats luminances that attacked their feelings wrapped in judicious phlegm on their limestone tombstones. Vernarth says. "Drink with me..., I have a new concoction from the beginning to the end where the branches enter with their effect from the same branches the true light that savors mistakes and slips comes out towards you. I have scabs from many shadows, but the unfaithful passion that hates me with such intensity is ennobled when seeing me prostrate before the Messiah who does not tire of a new change when seeing how his rounded limits shine on his face, much less of adapting in square limits nor to continue being born and dying, by drawing the curtain that his selfless mother always shows him to sacrifice, immersed in Gnosticism and of all those who tried to relate it " We will not be able to ask ourselves many times who we are being in front of and every time a child is born amidst variations that make all mischief its preciousness because it is born from the locked heart dancing in the greater acceptance of the welcome cycle of being born and being reborn. Even so, never having been among them, the systems of credibility are tired of their limestone material..., they register and suggest all kinds of contemplations in a vague naivety that shines between gold, myrrh, and frankincense. All those who were present transcend to resent their consciences by believing themselves spiritual while tenderness accompanied them, but not religious but the leadership of a creation will be presented to them in this stable that we see just being born that is above yourselves being born in all that concludes in an epistle under the dominance of "As you believe and love not seeing, what we see in us not believing" Indefinite before this stable we pray over the mother on her arrival, and we will pray in his mother when he leaves..., he is physical for those who accept him as a divine man and he is vainglorious for those who do not, those who do not tire their limits do not move the fence of their three-quarters demarcated, entering the undemarcated spirit as mobile emotional , girding a father and his image beyond because it escapes in our reason and faith, if not it is beyond or closer to what is usually a voluntary desire that always remains, if it is the Messiah everything is accepted in your mistakes of returning to reprimand after erasing the test of your random Being reprimanded, what the error feeds in you is digested by your active mind. Here we are extended before the anti Faith and Distended Will, underlying a new tradition that will need to relive it and get to know it if those of us who continue to speak of ethnic faith or about the naturalness of multiple tasks of their intolerances. Little Joshua says: "My fingers disobey me from her because they are far from my mother's, when I want to bring my visions of her closer to her, I throw myself into her gaze to ask her permission. But more than anything that leads us north, it flows faster than my shadow feeding on the light of the epistle. I sing and intone wills that come from so far away but I am distracted by looking and seeing those who organize an altar not so far from it..., up here on the roof. I feel without knowing and without knowing how behind them is my Father, and next to them in line the pavilion of the multitudes that sings me of haughty brave and Lord for those who are not. I never get tired of talking about the beams! they flex with the horses of the universe, and the dimensions intersected with my passion in my tension that falls compressed and falls reluctantly at the moment of tired inertia. The prism makes me hold on to the portions of the arcades of the stable, and this is in the creaking of my doubts in the desert of Jericho. The torsion in its mechanics as a noble beam, unbearable does what my reflexive pains endure so as not to stress the beams of others. From Nazareth to Bethlehem, a great effort to sustain the tension and torsion of the mechanics of the altar in the hands of those who fall weightless without feeling the weight that their load lightens on my back. In this slender mass and geometric beamed wood, the daily calculations that my father makes when he is tired to hold the world and my trova back are deformed, and when he is with impulses beyond them..., he deforms what the torsion does on it and does on the other Merida angles. And because as his son I don't know how to interpret it unidimensionally...? whose axis and radius I never knew how to understand, making myself wisely ignorant, taking hold of their garments strongly and of the mysteries that go beyond a constant creation in a stable" The Aramic Semitic language was presented in this Eucharist, on the Kafersuseh, by Joshua, He took his father in the stable with all those who came to see him, he looked at them beyond thousands of years to come to meet the humanity that lay grazing, always addressing them in Aramaic parables. While below the kings gave him offerings from the east, above beyond the studded beams, King David was consecrating him. Behind the King was the Father Creator supervising the thousands that his son Joshua would parley with Aramaic tongues, when the thousands of futures are consecrated alive in their astral bodies to the right of the Menorah, together beyond the archangels surrounding each one. Joshua watched carefully as his Aramaic lingual farming went further from Bethhlemem, beyond Kafersuseh where the evanescent height responded to a canopy shed of the beam that leaned on the stars, populating his trapezoidal back for a provincial development in his nonverbal escape from losing his unborn language And entering Aramaic through the divine membranes that descend through his olfactory halo language. However, he was already beginning to descend from the terrace to address the base of the peasant Christians who adored him and extolled him horizontally, lavishing him with water to distribute in their hands and faces beyond his visions. Joshua looked at Joseph and felt that his Aramaic was already his, but he would leave in advance walking towards the Garden of Olives..., towards Gethsemane, to meet with a frank theo-dimensional language towards his Abba Creator, surrounding them with Lepidoptera that burst their chrysalises plaguing taxa of Aramaic micro languages ​​to take them to their Abba who would await him in further ceremonial on the flat slopes that flowed with him in a language that might one day be lost as a dead language. However, this Arabic language will go in placebo on these pollinating Lepidoptera and they will go from the sacred lands to Gethsemane from their heavenly visions to Kafersuseh. In their homogeneity as dialects, the impetus of Lepidoptera began to be reborn here, traveling in nocturnal groups, to Gethsemane on the same day that Joshua came into the world in Aramean lights. When Joshua was born his Aramaic language traveled from the highest beam above the roof of his barn, to arrive with his biological Lepidoptera lingual species to pollinate Gethsemane. To migrate from that moment his word that he kept knowing that his body would be lost before those who tire in their eyes by not being able to decipher or read. Thus, transferring pollen from the stamens to the receptive macula of flowers in the angiosperms that will populate golden olive orchards mounted on vectors of the aforementioned pollen will be flown and piloted in more olive trees by the bees that will carry strains from the Kafersuseh in Bethlehem to preserve the moral language of Joshua. Although the new labors in humanity with all this and manner will go astray as a non-preserved language, not even imaginable at the birth of the Messiah until the beginning of a Gethsemane in a united Aramic body and language, but with an invisible Aramic body in those who do not you will be able to see the migratory flight of the Lepidoptera applauding mixed with bumblebees.
Messiah of Judah
Bryce Nov 2018
The coca-cola breath!
Flashing lights, tweetie birds, the rough narcotic stench

The sky is devoid, it is scared of the streets etched in starlight, everything shining-- tangerine and Coit and ohhhh boy
don't'cha know what you're in for?

Twilight and she is a figment on my mind
the bark of cigar is fiery opal on my slender frame
I can hear something along the lanes of love
Echoing behind me, the rising sun

Funny dudes in new suits, pressed, steamed, machine-rolled
pills in the pockets
shipped locomotive
Every etching has its china
every etching is porcelain skin
The fog is a silken balloon, unconcerned, wayward
The men longingly abide in its cool, the breath of an over-excited lover, singing in the showerhead an embarrassing microphone
over the west coast

It's all over! it's the end
the roads are devoid of the things that called you
They are a clarion horn on the Claremont, facades etched with windowpanes
here the americans eat tofu and pretend it's bacon

I am in the rapidly rotating spoke, enjoying the taste of woodchuck, upchucking my guts every Sunday, white knuckle-- praying to god
release
release

what a steal that's a fantastic car for the price!
it is only 10 years of payment
only 10!
House worth 40, kids worth 60, medicinal payments
corn flakes
Fortified iron gates and god says,
naw let them all out until they drown,
I'll never flood the earth but I'll make it puddles
and if they want they can lay face down

I am eating Korean stew and wondering what will happen
when unification builds a railroad from Moscow to Busan
I will travel it and write a novel or two
it will be
"On the Railroad"
and start in San Francisco or a little while outside
on an October evening with not a fog in the sky
Just sky, blue, blue sky
A child on the hillside
blowing bubbles in the apartment complex or the gravel mound
next to new homes, now cookiebread gingerbed frames
Doing tricks on BMX bikes, getting our elbows smashed, a designated paramedic
It's all built up now, concrete streets and lonely streetcorner lamps saying
Hey we're gonna light up this little space
Hope you don't mind
Please don't play too loud

And given that these spheroids are monumentally moving
hurling like a pitched water glass
everything staying put under the motion of it
Such a lovely rooting of mass

I will call alongside it, crawling towards answers etching on murals and on the stamping of curbs
E-5 West main
4451 Lowell Street
554 Happy Valley Road
It's all the fun little tributaries of surface waters
heading with precognition towards seas
roped into it by specific gravity

On the phone i spoke to Mr. Victorious
I asked him about his particular drone
down south there in the more direct limelight of the night
he told me about his uncle, in prose
of course
we just hung our heads over the speakerphone
Not sleeping the way we should
shouldering burdens as ***** in deserted zones
laughing and preaching to cottonfields

Then there was the girl
the one we forgot, truth be told
The one unrequited impetus for all art, all physicality and feeling
loved by god in the corporeal
She is the saffron reed in my eye, the one i forgot to preach Victory to
She that one oblong pebble, rolled by the stream
passing our campgrounds and continuing her journey to sands
small little microscopic tetrahedral perfection
I could get stuck in between my teeth
or perhaps left on the sweat of the skin
the lost moments of beachside living, love for the expansiveness, left in the diner seat of the car, gotta keep moving
Carrying her away and if not careful,
nestling her back atop the summits from whence she came.

it is a cola in the glass on the shores of the bay,
it is a divine moment of contact in the oceans
two sailors acknowledging their vessels
with light shows and the play of eye
off the horizon, a green light o' sprite.
Coop Lee Jul 2015
hammock and a stack of playboys.
first emerged,
boy.

feature trees and teens and punch drunk lovers.
chalk murals,
girl.

into the quiet density of love.
quiet city.
dance party, usa.

we end up making movies about our fathers
whether we know it or not.
home videos.

we double down on arcade tickets
& spin for a kite to tangle.
climb the town hill and bury our warmth.

kiss to forget or remember this bliss
& strange language.
strange sprawl of lights seen.

the homeowner’s association melt a pile of plastic flamingos
into an idol osiris.
dead god.
& wait,
wait for halloween.

our parentals diligently sweat.
they are conjurors of snacks and supper.
they are creatures of the ritual routine.

we ritual.
we homework.
we breathe easy, waiting for nothing.

   (except for more holidays)
recently published in The Bayou Review


//
Megan L Oct 2015
Nothing compares
To shaking on top of an old
Broken down windmill
With you.

Nothing compares
To silent summers
Sweating in the sweltering heat
Of love.

Nothing compares
To bright blue brick walls
Bringing about a brightening of bleary bland feelings.

Nothing compares
To dark auburn dreams
Drifting down my darling's cheek.

Nothing compares
To radical rants
On ruined romances
raining rivulets of righteousness
Upon those rotten adolescents.

Nothing compares
To myriads of murals
Of most moved men
Materializing
Meandering
In the fields below.

Nothing compares
To falling flat to fear
Fretting and fanning
To finish off
This fantasy.
#t #k
bobby burns Aug 2013
an octagon tent
wide enough that chucking rollies
to the sand made impossible
sprawled layers
you turned to quote Dali
told me how pale blue washed with lucy
shimmered skyline into dimension
acryllic-smeared sass drips canvas
into murmurs circling dilation
dimethyltryptamine stains
painting dreams on my eyelids
with flowerbrushes and silk,
mushroom dust gathers in discarded hues
on your pallet, where the colors of your irises
dry into a nebula of night-blooming jasmine
the scent of how you move when you sleep
and sleeping is never so sweet
as dancing through lucidity
with you as my sheets.
and i've traced your thumbprint so often
i'm sure if it were stretched around a marble
like buffalo skin on spirit-caller drums,
a globe would be seen
in which Greenland is finally proportionate--
the map on my wall always bothers you,
but I do too, and everyone does,
urging me under the geography
etched into the sea of your surface
by the crucible of your purpose
and working me into
empty behind your right
below the 22
between i'ching
and the forty two names of god
clasping your fore in silver
copper wound around my finger
hamstrings woven like wire
kambaba jasper, two to share
you hang Tibetan tektites
to elevate space
meteorite fragments
lodged in your helix,
stardust blood,
mandala sand from your mother,
and our tendons wrappe
by dexterous carpals
make such a pretty pendant
of my heart,
for synesthesia mistakes not
and my addiction to the pen has eased
for you breathe murals
and syllables never could
match brushtrokes of carbon dioxide.
dafne Mar 2015
mom was always self conscious about her veins
she veiled them with pants in eighty degree weather, constantly looking for cures for varicose and spider veins and always asked me if she looked bad
mom never looked bad, not even mediocre. she was mom.
mom shone through with a holy radiance of giving, i knew that when she got to heaven (even if heaven was never real god would make a heaven just for her) she would be blessed and her veins would be erased.
i would write her a letter telling her how her veins were art on her legs with colors that were abstract for the human body
i would tell her i love the paintings on her legs because they reminded me of all she did for decades, tiring her feet, never sitting down, giving her self up for half hearted people.
i would tell her stories that her veins were paintings made by God to show her how unique she was, and he formed murals for her that would never go away, with lilac, violet and green paints that stained his fingers
i would remind her maps and magnificent cities had veins of their own, they were the roads and tunnels that people traveled on to find their destination.
my hope for her is that she remembers her flaws are art that don't have to be hidden in a museum
JP Goss Nov 2014
A quiet revolution
Flashed its little white flames across the distant hill,
Its pockmarked mirror throwing
From its sudden arrest
The furry, the passion, the tumult
Back.

They burn, foreseeably fade
Such its pastiche make-up, a portrait
Of lonely little people, effaced by a vague hope
Faintly the earthen hues in which he melts.

Do I dare look with him, with her,
Towards that jutting alcove upon which
Its determined optimism finds its end
Recurrently?
I run my finger along the surrogate river line:
A whole, telling narrative—
Makes me question the lack of detail, the crude
Blotches casting shadows, deforming
Reforming, waylay the blankness
I swear, is put upon.

Hands, it says, I say,
Were once in one, drawn together as drawn in twain:
Instantaneous, as a second thought—
The cold bound them together,
Blue is transfixed on the exhaustion of intensity
They burn frigidly against
Cast from the Eden of their own hearts
Their, the single one, intensity
Leaving them bled out and scattering into the world,
Helpless to the waves of idle chatter,
Helpless to directions, east-to-west,
Helpless to the fantasies of mauve peaks abroad
Goading the stars to glimmer filthily
The feeling whose glimmer thusly ceased
If only circumstantially.

They become one with the road, recovery
Surely falls fat fruitily, under cover
Of evergreen arms, protecting ‘till then, pagan sprites,
Make due—
If you cannot hear the sound of the city far off
If you, faithless, in the endless road
You will understand when one with the earth
The forest promised emptily,
As my gaze just handed them off
To nonexistence.

Take breath of the almighty pearly city!
It holds its own hand, all they could drink in
Drunk off their own
Drunk off blithe luck—to be drawn into the world
Blurring with careless craft into the other;
Toast to our contrast!

I raise an invisible glass with diffidence—do they hear the music?
Do they dance in the eyes that hurt their hearts
Do they wonder of the other? Of what was sacrificed
To inspire quiet contemplation?
I’m witness as this reluctant martyr
Contemplates their eternity, bereft of salvation,
The other may, in the tip of the brush, alighted with red
Soaked, flecked like whiskers
With collusion and abandonment, still call out.

But, the spectacle can only fade; their gates were closed
And I am, sudden, brought to the other pockmarked mirror,
The rude proscenium, marring and barring
Those hands from ever touching.

Never should this have been the foundation
For the house of faith.
And out into the world, I tread,
On to see it tomorrow, cast in similar light.
Edward S Aug 2014
In my past works you have seen my struggle,
My constant battle with love, evil emotions and humanity,
But now this is all about to end,
Fore as soon as I shatter this old mural and repaint over it,
Then my new beginning begins,
A Life nor governed by fear of the unknown,
Surrounded by music that makes you dance,
Art that make no sense to most but only does to some,
A dash oh blue, and a pinch of green,
Triangles, Squares, Rhombuses, and Stars,
A brush stroke here, and a squiggle there,
The Demons are gone, and happiness is here to stay,
Its the Coming of a new Age,
Where people don't need to cry lightning,
This is it, the new life,
Keep on fighting and let happiness in,
My dear friends, it is a glorious world past this dark tunnel,
I've left the gate open for all of you to come through,
May my works from now on be full of awesome new things and ideas,
This is it.. the last brush stroke,
Now it is finished the old mural has been painted over with raident colours so bright,
Like shining stars and galaxy's throughout the night,
When in doubt pick up you're brush or pencil and make art,
Don't you care about what others say, that piece of art is yours and a reflection of you,
This is art, that is art, we are art,
Just keep breathing a little longer, and follow it all through,
Keep on fighting, fore that is what me must do.
Sidharth Suraj Jan 2021
I still reach out
through these murky windows of my soul,
trying to search
for those clay dolls of my dead emotions.

Floating around motionless in white,
I still accidently encounter
our murals from the past.
"motionless"
Tommy Johnson Jul 2014
What have I done?
I've unleashed Quincy Valero into The Big Bad City, upon Greenwich Village for the first time
The 177 express, round trip
To Port Authority
To the A train to Canal

We missed our stop
Had to walk from Soho to Washington Square Park
But along the way we saw artists and galleries
Head shops and street performers
Hobos and junkies

"We made it"
"We in this *****!"
Quincy said as we walked through the arches

We saw a multitude of creatures
An artist drawing floral murals with chalk
Meditating Buddhists
A cello player playing for a meal
A drummer drumming for money to get back home
A jazz band
A clarinet player
Writers scribbling down whatever came to mind

We saw beautiful women everywhere
"Look, my ten, your two"
Quincy said nodding to a **** brunette wearing a sundress walking by

We got coffee at The Third Rail coffee shop
We met lovey dovey couples and a girl poet sipping espresso

Treading down Bleaker to Sullivan to Macdougal to Huston
*** shops, leather and studs, ****** and flavored lubes
"This **** reminds me of Saw"
Quincy said with a laugh
"Too much for your threshold aye?"
I said nudging him

We passed a guy selling vinyl on the street
"How much for the Charlie Parker record?" I asked
He took the record out and inspected it
"Five bucks" he said
"How long you gonna be here, like till what time?" I asked
"Oh I don't live by time or numbers" he answered
"Time ain't your mast huh?" I laughed
"Nope, you cant spell T-I-M-E without M-E" he said
Quincy and I looked at eachother with a grin
"I'll be back, if I'm not here before you leave good luck in your ventures" I said as we walked away
"Thanks brother enjoy the day" he said smiling and waving

We ate to Papaya Hot dogs
Best in the city
Then to the pool hall

Now folks, it is common knowledge where I'm from the Quincy Valero is the local pool shark
He can break and sink three *****
He can jump over your ball and get his in
He can shoot behind his back with one hand

Playing with him is a guaranteed loss
But I never cared, I just like playing
We talked and laughed about all the stupid nonsense back at home
And planned our next move

We went to The Blue Note, the best jazz club in the city
The Dizzy Gillespie All Star Band was playing that night
But it was too expensive for both of us so we went on to St. Mark's place

More head shops
More *** shops
And book stores, clothing stores
Punk things in Search and Destroy, record stores
All that good stuff

It was getting late
Back to Bleaker to start drinking
First stop, a little pub
The bartender was a gorgeous blonde, sweet as could be
We ordered two beers
She seemed to be having trouble with the tap
"Sorry guys it's a little foamy, next rounds on me"
We were amazed by that because back home all the bartenders couldn't care less if we got a whole mug of foam
We clinked glasses and took that first cool icy sip
So nice on such a hot day

"Ya know dude, this is it this is perfect" Quincy said
"What you mean?" I asked
"Well this is a great time, I'm on vacation right now and were here exploring and relaxing and enjoying the moment, this moment" he said with his beer hovering over his mouth

Quincy always talked about "This"
This moment
This time
This feeling
This thing

"This" is that time when you're in the moment
That moment of complete and total encumbrance
When you're wrapped up in what you'r doing because you love it and you're happy
The moment you live for
The moment you want to last forever
This moment
This right here
Not then, not before or after
But right now, this
We lived our lives trying to to make this happen every second of everyday
Living it up

Quincy took me to Artichoke Pizza
And my God, it was immaculate
A nine in wide, nine inch long and half inch thick slice of heaven
It was a mixture of crunchy, gooey, savory goodness
I highly recommend it

Then back to the bars
Wicked *****'s
Triona's
Off The Wagon
The Bitter End
GMT
The Red Lion
Cafe Wha?
1849

Beer
Wine
***
Whiskey
Scotch on the rocks
Bourbon

Smoking electronic cigarettes down cobble stone roads
Passing hipsters, college students and tweakers
Locals and tourists
"Out of my way you tourist *******" I yelled frantically pushing my way passed them with Quincy trudging behind

You can always spot a tourist because they got their cameras, their ***** packs and their head looking up saying "ooo look at the building and that one!" taking snap shots in awe

We walked to The V-club
As we walked up to the entrance a little old lady in a wheel chair called out to us, "Are you two brothers?"
We laughed and said "no, were best friends and next door neighbors"
"Oh, well you too look very similar, very young" she said
"Yeah we're both twenty one" Quincy said
"You live around here?" I asked
"Right over there" she said pointing to the building across the street
She told us about how the building was falling apart and how all the law students got booted out leaving the little old lady and one other person living in the nine floor heap
"Back in the day there were river rats in their the sized of cats, but now we only have mice" she said
"I'm being moved though, whenever the land lords and the officials decided where" she added
She had some sort old senior citizen perk that allowed her to be taken care of
She then started to spit some of her poetry from thirty years ago, perfectly from memory
It was full of truth, insight and hope
We were floored by this wheelchair bound geriatric
She was a a retired barmaid, a poet, and an ex-lounge singer
Her name was Tracy Warren

The three of us walked into the V-club
I ordered a glass of Pinot Noir
And Quincy got a draft Brooklyn Lager
While pulling out a stool a spilled my wine all over the wooden table
"****" I said as everyone in the bar watched me put my face in my palms
I got paper towels and cleaned up my mess while the bartender leaned over to Quincy and said "If you don't tip me that will be your last drink ever in here"
"Okay" Quincy said as he walked over to me laughing at my expense
"If it was Burgundy I'd be in tears" I said with a half serious frown

I went to the bartender and apologized and asked sheepishly if I could possibly get a refill

"You spilled your wine?" he asked with sarcasm
"Yeah" I said
"And you want me to give you another?" he asked
"Well, I mean I don't know if that's okay or not that's why I'm asking" I said
"We don't, it isn't okay, you have to buy another one" he said with the most insulting tone I've ever heard
"Okay" I said with disdain

"**** this guy" Quincy and I both said
I left the remaining wine dripping off the table
Quincy ****** all over the bathroom
He finished his beer and we left without tipping that bearded-high and mighty- *******
We said goodbye to Tracy and she told us to enjoy every moment and to get home safely

We went to one more bar, had one more drink and headed home
But on the way to the train we got stopped by a ***
"Hey you give me money I know you got it" he yelled at Quincy
"Na man, hes broke trust me" I said to end the oncoming confrontation
"No yous lying i know it" he said
"Na, see those shoes? I got him those shoes, fifty five bucks" I told him
"Stop putting me on" he yelled
Then some white knight hipster wearing thick rimmed glasses and a green flannel stepped in and said "What's going on here? You picking on my friend?" While putting his arm around the *** mocking him and making trouble for us
"This ******* won't give me any money for my troubles" he told the hipster
"Come on man, give 'em something" he said to Quincy
"Dude, he has no money he spent all he had today" I said to the hipster and the ***
"He's a trust fund kid, he gets it from mommy and daddy" I said winking to Quincy
"Trust fund kid?!" the hipster said
"Trust fund kid!" said the ***
"TRUST FUND KID, TRUST FUND KID" screamed the hipster, the *** and myself laughing at Quincy making a scene
Then me and Quincy just walked away throwing our heads back howling at the full moon, drunk and exhausted heading for the subway  

The subway to Port Authority
Our legs, our feet and our ***** were killing us
We just wanted to sit

We could not for the life of us find our gate
We got misdirections from officers, other public transportation patrons
Thank God for this one janitor for pointing us in the right direction out of our wild goose chase
And ***** the guy who I asked "Hey man do you know where I can find the gate for the 177 express?"
And all I got was a blank indifferent stare
"WELL **** ME RIGHT?!" I yelled in his face

Finally we got on the line for our bus
We saw some weaselly looking guy cutting the line until he got booted to the back of the line
As he passed us we both looked at his and said "Weet, get meerkatted scumbag"
He had to wait for the next bus, whenever that was

The bus ride home felt like an eternity
But we made it
We had to walk down the unpaved dirt road to our street

We did it
We took on The Village
Sailed through the bars
Walked the streets
Met cool, hip people
Made memories
And now we have stories to tell
Elizabeth Jan 2015
If life were a wes Anderson movie
My wallpaper would be faded 70's vintage.
I would live a hard life and love an impossible woman
Who would shower me with misguided affection.

If life were a wes Anderson movie
I would have the knowledge to complete
Completely useless tasks
That would somehow be useful in any given situation,
Like chiseling a canoe out of a solid oak tree
Or weaving a hexagonal basket.
My eyes would constantly be filtered
With a color so vibrant my skin would glow chartreuse yellow.

If life were a Wes Anderson movie
My happiness would exalt and spread to those around me.
My stories would fill pictures and paintings,
My walls covered in obscure posters and murals
that no one really knows the purpose of.

If life were a Wes Anderson movie
Bill Murray would be my father,
Best friend,
And lover.

If life were a Wes Anderson movie
Nobody would understand my purpose
But everyone would love my presence just the same.

If life were a Wes Anderson movie
I would be king and crown those around me my subjects.
My crown would be encrusted with the Latin phrase,
sic transit gloria.
I would be king and grace my subjects with timeless tales of ages past,
of tear soaked laughter.

If life were a Wes Anderson movie
I would be king.
Dedicated to Dallas. Not the city, but the person \m/
Here is a beautiful mural
But I think I shouldn’t add any more to it
It might get overdone or ruined
I’m all about not ruining a good thing
Just like when people ask me to sing
I’m not like the rest
People look for batteries while I look for the North to my South
Maybe I’m too serious about some things
But I also doubt myself too much
Trying to cut that habit out of my system
JM Romig Jan 2012
Remember that chick
who pulled her hair back in a ponytail
had glasses
and wore ripped jeans
that she Sharpied murals on
out of boredom?

You’d see her in class sometimes
mumbling to herself
and doodling
while the teacher droned on
about the scientific method.

She always made you curious
but you could never get close enough
to hear what she was saying
or see what she was writing.

She promised herself that one day
she’d keep a diary
to keep track of the truth
but every time she tried
it turned into a collection of
half-thought-poems
and half-drawings of half-things
half-human and half-something else.

Never autobiographical
never the truth.

She seemed like the kind of girl
who is a self proclaimed vegan
scrawny little thing
with ex-hippie parents
like if you ever talked to her
she would be all in for face
about “going green man.”

So she took you by surprise
when she beat the fattest kid in the class
at that hot-dog eating contest
that chubby ******* didn’t stand a chance.

She thinks
the truth is just the lie
that you tell yourself the most often.

People called her “book-smart”
because she wore glasses
and was bad at math.
But she wasn’t really,
she was people-smart
in the way a scientist is rat-smart.

She’d sit on the swings at recess
and watch people
her eyes were concerned
like there was something they had
that she lacked.

Her locker was always empty
she took everything home
every night
she left
no residue
no aftermath
no memory behind.

She dreamed of living out of her car
and opening a coffeeshop
and being free.

She knew she was destined
to prove there was no such thing as destiny.
That we make our own reality.

And all of this you found
endearing and admirable.

Remember her?

…of course you wouldn’t.

You would have her more like this:

That weird nerd who doesn’t talk to anyone.
has long hair and draws on his pants,
is awkward in every conceivable way
- and possibly gay.

He spends all day in his notebook,
writing who-knows-what.
Who cares -

- about what his dreams were?
He was just another background character in your life.

There was one time you cheered him on,
at the hot-dog eating contest.
The only time you ever touched his hand
was to give him a high five for that.

You always pitted him.
silently.
Never out loud.

She was there.
Hiding behind his eyes.
And she loved you.
As much as one could love someone in seventh grade.

But you never loved her.
You couldn’t have.

She didn’t even know she existed yet.
Copyright © 2010 -reworked 2012 J.M. Romig. All rights reserved.
Rondu McPhee Sep 2010
...strolling down through the night,
Attacking innocence with a frown,
You've treaded through plastic and savages,
Your face buried beneath a gown,
The odd man in the corner says,
You look so down,
It means,
The forest seems black,
You're packed,
We're all long-gone.

You can kick and scream all you want,
But you'll get lost in the cold,
'Cause the Brave New Pathway is so old.

So you're a Good Man with,
all your Good Looks,
You're a manufacturer of,
Pretty Protest Books,
But your abiding venom is
So full of False Love
You're not a rebel, though you think not,
But you're just too many levels above.

You can kick and scream all you want,
But you'll get lost in the cold,
'Cause the Brave New Pathway is so old.

With your mass thinking codas, oh how you talk,
When you don't fall, there's still the straight bold lines that you walk,
With your gathered myths and conductors, in maths you all speak,
You ask yourself, is everyone so unique?
But by now, you're feeling ill,
You may not understand it,
Those hands of yours are too virginal,
You're not some natural-born bandit.

See, you can kick and scream all you want,
But you'll get lost in the cold,
'Cause the Brave New Pathway is so old.

You've strung some fallen multitude,
Some blind-eyed folks from lost and found,
Don't yet quit all the servitude,
Such groups can't be strung around,
You need respect,
You must check,
That everyone else is bound.
So you've gotten Anarchic Insurance,
Through all these Marxist hooks,
But what an abhorrence,
Your still safe and sound,
Just look at this mess, all of this!

You can kick and scream all you want,
But you'll get lost in the cold,
'Cause the Brave New Pathway is so old.

So you look down,
As you have on your hands,
A few clowns from a circus,
You phony philosopher,
You've let all your new fraud,
Work on us.
There should be some law,
Against having you claw
Your masquerades,
And magic through every one of these sold cities.
And even though you say,
Your imagination's not dead,
You've still read,
And forced every Order of Dictation.

You can kick and scream all you want,
But you'll get lost in the cold,
'Cause the Brave New Pathway is so old.

So you walk along with your pen down,
Past each fancy, carved stone column,
Then a voice says 'don't let your terms down'.
It's a naked fool looking solemn.
But you're still glaring and weeping,
You say 'I simply don't understand'
Then the man says, all out and fleeting,
'It's time for rebirth, When will you give a hand?'

So you're giving up,
You can see, you will stop,
So you can feel something now, if at all.

Now you're wandering past this site,
Of a landscape of metal and rust,
You're in the middle of some walkabout,
Your face coated in dust.
Now, thinking you're some Human Poet,
You go write on how you feel,
When the King Palate comes storming,
And you say 'Is this even real?'

But it's going too fast,
Any truth cannot last,
You're a lie by its own.
But you think you'll still find
Your Glittering Gold.

So you run through into this room,
With this Artist named Rome,
And with his lover, Salo,
They go off and buy you a home,
They have murals of circles,
And Open City souls,
They paint the 120 Days of Flesh,
And all these dead patrols.
They say, as they go about in a thresh,
Only Night has its fantasies,
Before burning your house down.
You won't see any end of dusk comin' around,
You're always a ***,
Your lawyers are decades gone,
Go back to all your Christs and El Dorados.

So when you weave yourself,
Out of that forest,
Don't be paid so attention to,
Don't be bleak,
As every night
Has its unabashed
Intellectual freak.
And before you go,
Between the statues under some sheik,
Remember, this very night
That's when you come...
My community is like a day at the beach.
The warm water melts away the ****** seagull calls
As we build sandcastles large enough for the biggest
And most ridiculously hard to say umbrella that we can
Manage to stitch together from our broken homes.

We play volleyball with our hope
The biggest beach ball we can muster
Our net constructed of ally weave
And it’s got flames and it’s super bad-*** and ****
But nets are only nets
And nets can only do so much
You can’t play games without
The people.

We ride jet skis away from sharks
Sharing the strong towers
Of our middle fingers
Because **** sharks
I know only some of them are dangerous
But after you see a body floating in the water
Like a buoyed tomb
It’s hard to forget the biting.

The net asked us once
Why we never have a funeral
I guessed that it didn’t realize that
We don’t have the time
To bury all the bodies
That’s like
Asking us to count the sand
Like telling us to collect the waves
Like begging us to dry an ocean of tears

But
These aren’t tears
They are a body count
These aren’t sickles of sand
They are our ancestors’ ashes
These aren’t warm waves
but walls of black blood
And it’s here
Amongst the ashes
And blood
That we build our sandcastles

I look around in mine
It is insulated in white
The black blood
Only begins to broach
The moat outside
If I never bothered
To look
I might never see it

How much time
Must we spend in
Our sandcastles
Before we can
Smell the blood
Outside

How deep do we
Have to dig our holes
Before we silence the screams
Outside

Why are we just
Looking at the walls
Why aren’t we looking
Outside

We are not royalty
We are not arbiters of
Ash and blood
This is NOT a
Game

Net’s don’t matter when
All the players are dying.

How many sandcastles
Do we have to build
Before we remember
The stone riots that
Built them

Be spiked heel shoes
Be rock and brick
Be broken windows
Be shattered bone

Raise your fist against
The biting tide
Swim against the sharks
Until you bleed enough
To drown
Them

Be blood
Be ash
Be broken homes
Be ****** murals
In the street
Be white sandcastles
Then tear yourself down
Until you get back to the
Stone Walls of your foundation

You know what, ever mind
**** sandcastles
They seem too much like sharks
anyway
aviisevil Oct 2023



the prison is
deep

her walls masked
in sewed flesh

there is only
a sliver of light

that comes from
the womb

awakening the
night

brewing many
storms into potent
thoughts

hide them
well

lest they pierce
through the skin

make a home
of murals

unwritten letters
to no one

that you keep
inside

let them return
to dusk

decay into
the rose tinted
sunsets

there are no
photographs
to remind you
of anything

nothing has
happened for
years.




Nigel Morgan Jan 2013
It was the eve of the mid-autumn festival. Day had followed day of clear skies but ever-lower temperatures had brought crisp and chill mornings. Zuo Fen began to fear that a first frost would damage her late flowering plants, the delicate tea flowers of the osmanthus. She was already aware of the seven grasses of autumn now present in her garden and would recite standing amongst them the traditional seasonal poem:
 
Flowers blossoming

in autumn fields - 

when I count them on my fingers

they then number seven.

The flowers of bush clover,

eulalia, arrowroot, 

pink, patrinia, 

also, mistflower 

and morning faces flower.

 
Oh the whiteness of Autumn, the season of courage and sadness, a time for the lighting of white candles against the dying of the day. Upon rising Zuo Fen would stand in meditation facing west, the seasonal direction of dreams and visions. Again and again her mind state visited a habitation in the distant mountains, a sprawling summer palace seemingly empty but for the slightest echoes of recent occupation or maybe a caretaker’s attention. In her recurring vision she would walk from room to room, each kaleidoscopic in colour of hanging silks and elaborate murals. Eventually she would find her way outside into a neglected garden that dropped in gentle terraces to a lake where she would observe the ‘thousand colours of water, brilliances and blues.’
 
One morning a young chamberlain sent from her Lord visited her court. He had remained rapt at the sight of the courtesan of the Purple Chamber standing trance-like in her garden. Meng Ning had often positioned himself in the undertaking of the Emperor’s duties to communicate with Zuo Fen, whom Meng Ning admired and was secretly enamored. A few well-chosen words of respect and critical admiration for the poetess had been all it took for Emperor Wu to summon Meng Ning as courier of his express command to his most favoured concubine. Unfailingly gracious towards the formal attentions of the young man Zuo Fen had come to feel at ease with this respectful figure who had succeeded in charming both her cats and Mei Ling her maid.
​       As she stood motionless, attired in her gardening robe and clogs, she became aware of Meng Ning’s presence and, before turning to acknowledge him with a greeting, allowed a thought to form in herself. She would seek his help to identify the summer palace of her waking dreams.
       ​Yes, he knew of such a place, sixty li distant, a hard path it was said, but ladies of the court had once graced its many linked pavilions in the third season. The lake held a restless spirit and it was said no boat had ever sailed its surface. How did he know this, she had asked. A petition from a recluse, a former minister of the treasury, had been received at court requesting its occupation for the winter months. It had been refused, indeed dismissed without further consideration. Meng Ning had been curious as he had once viewed the lake from its western end, but from which the habitation was entirely hidden. Did the Honoured Lady know of the mysterious Red Slate Path said to appear briefly from out of a cave in the steep wooded hillside, cross a bowl-like glade and disappear into the lake depths? The Honoured Lady did not, but was nevertheless caught by Meng Ning’s description which, when he had delivered his message from Emperor Wu and retired, she fell to placing inside her already rich vision of property, lake, and precipitous woodland whose trees and bushes she was busy mind-painting with autumn leaves and berries.
 
After a day of thought and planning Zuo Fen developed an intricate strategy to visit the palace and environs of Eryi-lou. She told herself that she was searching for inspiration to compose an autumn sequence for her Lord that would recall the days of his esteemed father. She had discovered in the palace archives that in his declining years he had summered in this remote place, had filled its pavilions with only his most favoured concubines, its guest apartments with poets and musicians. She asked for Meng Ning’s services as guide and protector.
​      She had expected a blunt refusal, but to her astonishment, her request was granted, but only during the twelve days surrounding her monthly courses. She had smiled at this condition having been almost entirely free from her natural cycle for several years, something not unknown for a woman who had never been with child. Mei Ling dutifully made apparent false evidence of this charade.
​       It was a small party that left the Eastern Gate on a day that promised rain and high wind; seven in all, four to carry Zou Fen’s sedan. But this was to be understood as a matter of protocol rather than necessity, as within 6 li of the palace a pair of ponies for Zou Fen appeared in the road. Drawing back the curtains of her sedan she stepped out dressed as a male traveller, her movements and manner in such a disguise confidently rendered from her months searching for her brother Zuo Si in the wilderness of the Tai Mountains. Meng Ning was both astonished and alarmed as he had not been forewarned of this way of things. It seemed that Zuo Si had probably made all the necessary arrangements.

(to be continued)
JM Romig Jun 2010
Remember that chick
who pulled her hair back in a ponytail
had glasses
and wore ripped jeans
that she Sharpied murals on
out of boredom.

You’d see her in class sometimes
mumbling to herself
and doodling
while the teacher droned on
about the scientific method
and she always made you curious
but you could never get close enough
to hear what she was saying
or see what she was writing.

She promised herself that one day
she’d keep a diary
to keep track of the truth
but every time she tried
it turned into a collection of
half-thought-poems
and half-drawings of half-things
half-human and half-something else.

Never autobiographical
never the truth.

She seemed like the kind of girl
who is a self proclaimed vegan
scrawny little thing
with ex-hippie parents
like if you ever talked to her
she would be all in for face
about “going green man.”

So she took you by surprise
when she beat the fattest kid in the class
at that hot-dog eating contest
that chubby ******* didn’t stand a chance.

She told me one day
that she thinks
the truth is just the lie
that you tell yourself the most often.

People called her “book-smart”
because she wore glasses
and was bad at math.
But she wasn’t really.

She was people-smart
in the way a scientist is rat-smart.

She’d sit on the swings at recess
and watch people
her eyes were concerned
like there was something they had
that she lacked.

Her locker was always empty
she took everything home
every night
she left
no residue
no aftermath
no memory behind.

She dreamed of living out of her car
and opening a coffeeshop
and being free.

She knew she was destined
to prove there was no such thing as destiny.
That we make our own reality.

And all of this you found
endearing and admirable.

Remember that chick?

...of course you don't.
Copyright © 2010 J.M. Romig. All rights reserved.

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