impossible, that this could be such a rift
in perception
this little interlude in the chores of time
and time itself a chore
and perhaps certain pockets of space
also chores
like construction sites
and event stadiums
where hammers and tongues mingle
for some truancy of body
yet the embodiment of soul through
ego-destruction
and thus only a tongue and a mouth
and eyes and ears
but missing the body
and all of its organs
but also the relevance of legs
and caterpillars and kneeling when
writing to ease the breaking
of the shins -
a recurring theme like i'm not getting
deep sleep
on the event horizon of nothing
and glee -
or perhaps this is me virtually simulating
a bridge between Boris
Brejcha and Nemo
but more on the lines of Nebu: King Nebu
- - - - - - -
'oh i know what would sort Martin out
i could be the next Dr Fickle-stone
the ****** won't move
with either push or grudge
or throw or shove
this fickle stone this mountain
this slow piercing meteor just lying there
in Australia
a slow ******* like the defense shield
of House and Technology Atreides
since i showed her the freckle
on my right hand's ring finger
and i thought it was a mole on her chin
but no just a zit
i can't imagine myself living
in American society
i'd be ****** but from what i heard
all this tipping economy
and the angels of actors
and acting angels like some goof
face make-up
i don't understand how certain
people have been exposed to technology
esp the one they created
social media and the internet
subsequent second internet
but Americans were the first people
to be exposed to this technology
and medium
and now the fatigue kicks in
while other people congregate
and use it for divergent avenues of usage
only a few days ago
i was sitting next to this guy
and he noticed that i was using
my mobile hub transport brain
pickle-juice pickle-juice
to "adventure" into the realm of backgammon
rather than playing Candy Crush Saga
i mean that's almost like
a game of no chess chess
or rather no checkers checkers: check check
and backgammon since
there are invisible die fidgeting about
on this colorful really colorful screen
and i imagine the Cliff of Dover
as the Cliffs of Sower
and instead of calcium and later chalk
i think of them as Yellow
that is i think of them as Sulphur
that crumbly half-stone
that stink of the place
this was back in old school highschool
in one of Mr Judge's chemistry
lessons listening to Creed under
the table
with that song: who's got my back
and bullets and i imagine
the importance of a world
and the journalism that goes along with it
when i think of the solipsistic peer
bubble in highschool
and the children there not yet
invoked or involved in the reality
of a world
and i think that yes: there is a seismic shift
in perception
yes there is whenever i smoke
and drink a little and start doing
housework chores
like cleaning
like later cooking
and that's household stewarding
the male equivalent of what used to be
the matriarch palace of the housewife
now seriously there is nothing
emasculating than household stewarding
but it makes sense
since a woman would not drink
a little smoke a little
start housework take a brake
listen to some music and write
she needs masks of the gravitas of sensibility
she can't allow herself the freedom
of mind and all those insensibility that are the missing
plural already auto-corrected
like this almost tragedy of English
not being German
notably how words begin and end
whether with a-
   vowel or with a b-          ah cows
clutter and cower but then stampede
and have this wild look in their eyes
eyes how blind
then turn to coal then become ignited
and from the sockets
now chimneys
an evaporation or combustion
whichever is more associated
to perfume the air
to perfume can be a verb
to be is a verb
i am is a pronoun-verb
complex
      any statement relevant to the usage
of pronouns ought
to be transferred to the storage
dynamic of pedagogic failures
filed under the Xerox typo 2.34.t/lp
that's phonetically:
two point three four point tango forward
slash el ***
since there is a typo in that
L>P
L.P.

lambda archie
long playing then fazing out then returning
then moving to the pinnacle
of and as Martin
what if induce this damaged brain to some
fungal osmosis
symbiosis
why not fill those empty sockets now
called the eyes of water with
fungal matter and hallucination
but then in that scenario i would be cruel
and would have turned this care home
into a mental asylum
since now undisturbed he is
and will remain
in the memory-cinema of his past
and oblivion to the present
so no need to stimulate water pools
in the brain with color and fungus
because there's already an Aquarium-Brain
freeze in Martin who is who isn't
and i'm only now, FINALLY, persuading
Edie to recognize this goldmine of
a newly invested writing habit
since presented with this canvas and
as to imply no need to paint anything on it
just write around it
that is what poetry can become
a way of writing around having
to otherwise paint on canvas...
the back of my mind where the third eye
(supposed third eye)
is situated and i've only taken a 30min
break yet i feel a complete
disconnect with time
and how it is measured and processed
by the left and right hemisphere
given that as the doctor said
prescribe yourself the pill of knowledge
or prescribe yourself the pill of ignorance
i know the tedium of these
multitude of scientific facts
but there are certainly varying states
of consciousness and if one could harness
rather than squander micro-dosing
on **** and alcohol and then write
and perform chores as menial as they
are in number
then there would be no simple Blue Red
and what i first learnt of philosophy
when escaping studying chemistry
was also history in my 2nd year
and philosophy of science in my 3rd year
and my DOS director of studies
Dr Camp
            knew the same as me that i was
laughed at for my surname
made easier to pronounce as Elert
rather than Eschlert
for the English speaker
but we shared a love for the humanities
and he guided me silently
through my university years
simply because on our first meeting
i noticed my newly found
fascination with Edward Hopper
and i even took my highschool sweetheart
to an exhibition at the Tate Modern
so
he also put me on this very basic
IT course that's where i first learnt
how to write a html code
but subsequently, well, forgot because
rather disused already the first
barons who had it easy writing the first
html shop
and from there could import
all the other thingy physical technologies
before the Babylon of "A.I."
stormed forth and yes
we don't see it but the consolidation
of physicality has been met
now the AI is working with soft machines
the hard work with the hard machines
has disappeared
therefore AI has become more automated
therefore the response has become
more or less autonomous
yet still only in the prototype phase
but the 3rd phase will come
and it's not out of some promise or fear
just the natural progression of nature
as man is nature but more technology
yes man's new nature is his own making
in that nature has been replaced with
technology and it's more the case of how
we interact with technology
more than it is how we interact with nature
since Darwinism is dangerous
for its non-interactive argumentations
simply from the standpoint
of it being an observational experience
in god-mode-ghost-frown
not from a theological argument
but from a humanistic argument
Darwinism ruined humanism
in the same way that faking the moon landing
hindered the daydreamers and
night-stalkers from regressing into child...

na biedną nie trafiło:
      it didn't fall upon a poor girl.

autobiography abstract (abstract
refers to a scientific paper
  synopsis) -

2 flats in st. petersburg,
                        a rich daddy,
and even richer gran-daddy,
a mansion in novosibirsk -
               you know -
  something akin to "new money":
plety of oligarchs in russia...
studied in an english university
in the early 00s...
so i'm guessing paying an
        excess of 20K per year...
so she wasn't exactly a poor
girl...
       we agreed on not using
condoms, well, she suggested
she wanted to feel skin on skin...
and said: i'll take the pill...
she even chose her engagement
ring...
         let's face, boy 21,
girl 18... love is the only madness
that's required to do stupid things...
like, NOT TELLING THE PERSON
******* INTO YOU
THAT YOU DECIDED TO
STOP TAKING THE CONTRACEPTIVE!
that's some whacky-races sort
of love...
                 i guess she really wanted
a part of me, even though
we broke up...
- i think i'm pregnant.
- what? we broke up?
- but i think i'm pregnant.
- listen, i'm an immigrant,
   i have to bust my *** on the construction
   site, and i still want that second
   degree in history from u.c.l.
- so?

if i play detective columbo and have
one lazy eye, and digress and
never mind paying much attention
to "facts", in order to spot the lies,
that was the tactic:
always ask the same question over
and over, at different intervals,
and you'll see the "fact" to be a lie...
thanks columbo:

she does revenge "****":
as far as i can tell, ***** a school fwend
of mine, and, given she
was studying anthropology,
she had insight into amazonian poisons,
so i'm sold this idea of a hallucinogenic
that lasts only 15 minutes
(i didn't want to do l.s.d. with her:
12 hours? **** that!
  she thought we would start
the new doors version of musical
events... no wonder that at school
younger girls asked me what
shampoo i used,
              donning a french braid)...

idiot for a minute: genius in a lifetime
of beating myself about university,
and the "need" to explore regions of "thinking"
akin to huxley on peyote...
stupid me... i thought that western universities
were about all that jazz?
    
mind you: there's that biblical verse:
   and how the people wondered about the beast,
for the mortal wound to the head
was healed...
    all i can say:
an angel shaked me, induced an epileptic
tremous into a haemorrhage stupor...
slobbering to one side, like stephen hawkins
looks most days...

don't worry, you don't have to believe me,
i'm finding it hard to believe it myself...
   but yeah... i'm the guy in the book
of revelations:
              come on...
   i didn't go as far as marylin manson and
his delusional "self" idea -
matching up the book of revelation describing
nebu's dream of a beast with iron teeth...
look at my inverted pockets...
       moths and cobwebs...
the only riches in my possession are the ones
that i make do with my tongue:
   by speaking the truth.

summa summarum?
    if she really was impregnated by me,
and really wanted so bad to keep a part of me,
and then tell fairytales about how his daddy
died a terrible death, being a chemistry, trying
to experiment...
     well... daddy's still here... ******...
with columbo's twitching eye...
   what the **** could be deemed improbable
about this verse?
   people can run 100m in 9.58seconds...
  people went into space and landed on the moon ,
people climbed everest...
    what's delusional about my statements?
              when someone deems
another person, the madman is simply
"man" because the person who deems him "mad"
is just about as annoying as those
monkeys who steal tourists' possession for food,
keep the possessions for random, until they
get their "peanuts"... yes, the bali monkeys,
     the uluwatu temple mafia...
some people have this knack at being,
   simply annoying, rude, and annoying...
then again, some people on these islands
don't have the english knack of being annoyingly
polite... some people really do behave
with their tongues, like they might find annoying
if someone were to shove a handful of red
ants into their underwear;
         can't do anything about these *****:
'cos' they're just *****, plaing and simple...

but it didn't land on a poor girl -
                                       *na biedną nie trafiło,
i washed my hands from the whole affair,
given that i only game *****,
but no signature on a piece of paper...
       i have no legal reasons to give support...
em... am i some foreign aid bank?
                     don't worry,
i made a back-up plan...
                            i already pleaded "insanity",
as everone in this case has pleaded,
  she pleaded schizophrenic, the guy she ******
and asked to **** me pleaded bi-polar...
   welcome to the asylum,
   i hope you enjoy your stay...
   would you like a bathrobe and some slippers?

NEDOSTAJEŠ MI LJUBAVI
Na nebu mjesec sja
plavo more obasjava.
Svi su zaspali
pokraj mene nisi ti.
Sve što bih htio
da budeš noćas
uz mene moja bajna vilo.
Želio bih da se noćas
usne naše spoje
mjesec,zvijezde i nas dvoje.
Volio bih da me
grle tvoje ruke
da zauvijek pamtimo
naše romantične trenutke.
Nedostaješ mi mnogo ljubavi
samo s tobom želim život dijeliti.
Pišem ti ljubavno pismo
dugo se draga vidjeli nismo.
U pismu ti piše sve
moja jedina ljubavi
volim te.
Stjepan Orlić

VJETAR
Vjetar puše i kišne kapi nosi.
Ja stojim pokraj prozora
tata mi u šalici čaj donosi.
Eto odjednom čarolije
na nebu se duga stvori.
Tako je toplo u domu mom
u peći vatra gori.
Ajme kakvo loše vrijeme
al to me ne mori.
Radije ću čitati knjigu
ljepše vrijeme dolazi
voditelj na radiju o tom zbori.
Ante Orlić
Stjepan Orlić

NAŠA PRINCEZA
Te večeri u caffeu
mi smo se upoznali.
Dugo smo razgovarali
i tu se večer zavoljeli.
Otišli smo iz caffea
muzika je još svirala.
Pokraj rijeke polako smo šetali
i za ruke se držali.
Noć je bila tiha
zvijezde na nebu su sjale
mi smo se opustili
i prvi put se poljubili.
Sretne dane što smo provodili
sve ono što smo željeli
sve o čemu smo snili
iz naše ljubavi
kćer smo dobili.
Veselju i radosti nije bilo kraja
došla je na svijet naša princeza mala.
Stjepan Orlić