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Mike Hauser Feb 2015
One warm day in May
It started raining Orangutans

Which in itself would be deranged
If it wasn't so very strange

They puddled up in the street
Which made walking slippery

Don't go out without galoshes on
Stay inside and hide if you have monkey phobias

Cause they're coming down rather hard
In the trees and in the yards

You can hear a certain jungle beat
To Orangutan pitter patter under feet

If you have a boat to row
It might be good to set sail now

It just so happens one day in May
It started raining Orangutans

Which in itself would be deranged
If it wasn't so very strange
Hey Human! I am your Sibling.

Queen bee wings are Ripped,
bee niblings are Smoked
For Your Honey Sweet.
Hey human! Listen your Sibling’s Buzz.

Tiger lost bones for Medicine,
Fox lost fur for Fashion,
Sharks lost fins for Soup.
Hey human! Do Not Butcher Siblings.

Simba’s life is not your Trophy,
Jumbo’s tusks are not Decors,
Helmets of Hornbills are not jewels.
Hey human! Do Not Reap Siblings.

Emperors of ice continent lost land,
Economics is making Amazon less,
Logging makes Orangutans homeless.
Hey human! Do Not Invade Siblings.

Warm oceans bleach corals,
Water depleted in cities,
We ingest plastic regularly.
Hey human! Do Not Desert the Earth.

Overfishing is holocaust of aquatic life,
Livestock levitates toxic emissions.
Hey human! Do Not Prey on Siblings.

Lichens stunned by pollution,
Symbionts are disintegrating,
Biodiversity is declining.
Hey human! Be Together with Siblings.

Hey Human! We are Offsprings of Mother Nature.
Monera, Animalia, Fungi, Plantae, Protista
all have common roots.
We are branches of the one Phylogenetic Tree
rooting Common Ancestry unto LUCA.

Hey Human! We are Siblings.
Hey Human! Recall your Siblings.
Hey Human! Revive your Siblings.
Fraternity eliminates exploitation.By developing kinship with animals and other life forms we can pave way for sustainability.

This poem says how humans are exploiting various life forms of Earth and attempts to inculcate fraternity with them.

It deals with trophy hunting, ivory smuggling, animal skin trade, glaciers melting - Antarctica - Emperor penguins, deforestation, coral bleaching, endangered microorganisms, loss of biodiversity, plastic pollution, over-fishing, ill effects of animal husbandry, traditional medicine.
Inventor Sam invented a life
Full of bright and sunny days
With clouds in the sky, peacefully passing on by,
And beautiful birds singing in all sorts of nice ways.

Inventor Sam, with a wave of his little right hand,
Invented mountains that reached up towards the stars
And with a wave and a flick, in an instant, quite quick,
He made rivers and valleys stretched out afar.

Inventor Sam, what a grand little man,
Invented some animals too
He called them Zebras, Giraffes, and Orangutans
Even people like me and like you

Inventor Sam then sat back to enjoy all that he made
But he noticed that something was missing
Not apples, nor reindeer, nor trees and their cool shade
Not eagles, nor bananas, nor snakes and their hissing

Inventor Sam looked closely at the animals that stuck out
Those on two legs, with little hair and one tiny snout,
They walked aimlessly around with no purpose at all
Stiff legged and hollow like fragile china dolls

Inventor Sam then sat up with a smile on his face
For he knew what would be his very last application
With a wave of both arms, and lightning for effect
He made people Inventors with their very own imagination.

-BPW  12/27/2013
Robert Zanfad Aug 2012
“the nation needs new direction...”
a talking head on television
got me saved as he began
“abandon investigations into global warming,
polar bears and orangutans,
other pseudo-scientific distractions
from proper resource extraction that could save us
from the mess we're in..”

proposing, instead, the latest in scientific experiments:
ascertaining the flavor of blue jelly beans,
or the true origin of belly button lint -
useful information for armchair navel-gazers

now I'm one of them

we want an installation of mirrors on the moon
so we can watch ghetto children clean toilets after class
as they repay their debts
for the free ketchup they get
from socialist school lunch programs
they’ll learn valuable skills for eventual careers
as lifetime sanitary engineers

our right-minded scientists are poised soon
to upend the old myth that earth is round
because out in Texas, anyone can see that it’s flat;
and monkeys be ******
none of those letters are in us,
the old book says it in black and white

but we’ve since adopted the newer testament,
improved through Ayn Rand
(an atheist...imagine that!)
The Savior is an investment banker, job creator
who kept his accounts off-shore
out of reach of commies and single mothers, the ******

we still espouse good christian values
(charity for the poor, yaddayadda)
cooking pots of pasta in church kitchens
to feed them;
God helps when they need more -
like medicine for uncontrolled diabetes -
which is when we lay-on-hands and prescribe
heavy doses of prayer
(the approach doesn't cost a cent)

after all, poverty is the neo-cardinal sin
(greed, by conservative decree, is now good),
unforgiven within gates of the convention
but we’ll guarantee a spray of white carnations
on the pine box at the altar if all else fails,
complements of the congregation...

just not for gays or lesbians ...
or loose women who seek abortions
before we have a chance to peek inside them...

we aim to reclaim freedom
(from guilt and contemplation,
cerebral things like thinking...)
take our country back from
the legions of excess population
who, by some estimations, seem a lot like us
but aren't

we’ll be winners again
John F McCullagh Dec 2011
The markets up, the Markets down
For weeks it just meanders.
Alas, my stocks are always down
Each time I take a gander.

GM, Lehman, Citicorp
My broker bought for me-
And you can guess the net result-
IHe bought a yacht, not me.

Those friends who don’t avoid me
Say I’ve reversed Midas’ touch.
I don’t turn things I touch to gold
I turn gold into rust.

I’d heard dart tossing Simians
Can best the S & P
So I went to the Zoo this March
to consult a Chimpanzee.

He took the chartt, he threw the dart
And picked a stock for me-
And now I’m getting margin calls
because I bought BP.

He seemed the sage of Omaha
before he ruined me.
I should have tried Orangutans
And paid their higher fee.

They wanted five bananas
My monkey worked for three.
But now I’m bust because I used
the discount Chimpanzee.
This is an older piece written just after the BP oil spill in the Gulf and in full knowledge of the the bailouts and stock crash that preceded the spill.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2017
i tried to assimilate, oh wait, i did, and i speak better native sprechen than the actual natives, and for that? you get the boot, because some camel jockey egyptian mongrel mixed with iranian blood gets the better of you... i guess the "natives" were fans of the eastern european *******, but not the eastern european males, **** it, i'm coming for the ride; can just see the ****** shouting: ooh ooh! their male counterparts are a'coming! and next thing you know, i'll be asking you to play the ******* banjo, with a toothpick!*

and it was always going to be torrential rain,
suspended in a prelude crescendo
of soulfly's song prophecy...
oh all the hoes come from eastern europe,
just like all didlo moulds come from africa,
gotta perfect that "pleasing of the white
******* honey cougar in plastic too, yo, bro..."
black people don't speak the current
lexicon, they are hyper-evolutionary
with their slang impromptus,
gets annoying after a while,
when you stop keeping track of their
ghettosprechen...
      ******* could have said custard,
meant margarine, but i'd still think of
jungle...
                     ghetto *****, get-a-go!
next time you mention all women of
eastern europe as ******, i'll mention
you in my charcoal wish-yo-were-edible
roasts... **** me... i'd prefer eating a leg
of lamb than a ******; shank.
oh, the word offends you,
but doesn't offend you in a rap limerick?
i.e. ***** ***** bab bab *****?
black people invent too much slang,
too much degenerate use of language,
      i try to keep it straight and universal,
off the orangutans go, talking orange is
the new black...
           i still find it hard to fathom
darwinism, who would be mad to begin
in africa, and end up in the arctic circle,
and no china?! common origins *******...
  tried looking for an eskimo in china,
all i found was, a ******* icecube!
      post-existentialism does exists,
it exists in the form of anglo-existentialism,
i.e. a darwinistic blackmailing...
    21st century existentialism is blackmail,
plain dumb & simple...
   and yes, i have a girlfriend, i call her...
sophia...
       and nietzsche was right:
the ugliest of the ugliest? atheists,
intellectually speaking.
       and why would you ever consider
the pristine sophia / ****** mary if not considering
aspasia, phryne, rahab, theodora,
   to counter philosophy,
   why not craft a:
    philospasy, a philophryny,
       a philorahabu, a philothedorum?
guess what, of the most famous prostitutes,
the contestants are philorahabu,
                     and philothedorum,
and all are famous prostitutes;
then the pristine sophia, my "girlfriend";
philosophy has a deity, that although
deemed pristine, has been touched by
many hands, and many strangleholds of ego,
time to turn this princess into a *****;
and the ones that visited a *******,
will look at those that haven't with curious
eyes.
let's not forget the siamese twin prostitutes
safa & marwa, and the matriarch
and true founder of islam ha-gar -
      the concubine of abraham,
  that ******* mother of islam.... hagar...
you really think men invented the islamic
attire for women?
              who's at the chanel catwalk,
straight men, or gays and women?
       you blame anyone, you blame: hagar...
running between the mounts safa & marwa...
islam, that totalitarian reinvention of
"repentant" / "revised" mode of prostitution...
and as i once overheard an englishman speak,
the niqab? satan's postbox.
- the craft began with treating the world as
solely inanimate, to make it as inanimate as
possible, and interact in it,
   as the sole animate agent, obviously with
the obvious hurdles of animate expressions,
nonetheless, these expressions being
outside the vicinity of integrated animate
actors, working around in inanimate surroundings,
conclusively,
  the "supposed" animate expression regain
their inanimate stratum by a repeatedly
predictable observation of
a prior re similis ad infinitum
  (prior to, again, similar toward infinity).
the point was always to make the world
as inanimate as possible,
    collecting books is a starter,
  collecting cooking utensils another,
the point being, to surround yourself with as
much inanimate reality, as to prove yourself
the animate, the "actor"...
             or more expressively: the puppeteer...
it still bothers me, grinding two prefixes...
the penta-      vs.        the tetra-...
   why? well, we are embodied with five sense,
but there are only four elements...

    vision
audition
gustation                       yes, but there's only
  olfaction
     somatosensation

                    air, fire, earth, water...
      this is almost gagging a schematic,
  we can see fire, earth and water,
  we can hear fire, air, water and earth,
      we can taste...
      we can smell fire, air, water, earth,
we can touch fire, water, earth...

this, by the way is crude...
   and is limited by not adding particular
observations...
   but the ratio 5:4 is in place, akin to
the mad hatter's 10/6 = 0.666...
         and that missing one is: ad infinitum,
might as well call it the lazy eight with 4:5...
since the elements came prior to the senses.

i'm guessing the "fifth element" to compliment
the five senses is a far greater posit than
a sixth sense, in that, this "fifth element"
is a plagiarism of kierkegaard,
  i.e. the "changelessness of god",
namely the eternally immovable object,
an object of constantly perpetuated friction,
so stationary that it moves all things,
which also precipitates into an eternally
recurrent subject matter,
immovable, ergo, inexhaustible.

- and i will die believing that anglo-existentialism
is an argument from the perspective
of blackmail, esp. since it's overtly-repetitive
and unoriginal,
  and if the english found continental
existentialism boring, a continental european
like myself, will find some hidden interest
in this "boring" artefact of time,
   but nothing can redeem repetition,
not even a boring artefact of writing,
   since when reading a boring "effort" of
writing, you can actually wake up,
and yawn...
  but when the same "effort" is repetitive,
you never get a chance to yawn,
you're still asleep, "apparently" enthralled.

- and to give a conclusion...
if an irishman thinks you write akin to
the psychiatric slang of "word salad",
ask him if he has read any james joyce,
if the answer is no, and he replies that he prefers
video game narratives, and has ambitions of
writing a book citing the cliche moonlight sonata
of beethoven... it's one of those times
you can't even laugh, internally, or externally.

- eventuality vs. actuality -
whereby actuality is a reactionary stance
that drags past events into present and future
events...
   whereby eventuality is a liberal stance
that drags past events into a wall,
   the present into a status quo,
  and the future into a snooze button phase
of a clockwork orange.

- no, i don't like this darwinistic blackmail of
continental existentialism,
  this monochromatic monolith...

- better start calling philosophy by its proper name,
philorahabu / philothedorum
(were not underlined on the pixel canvas,
thereby bypassing the oxford dictionary panel
for nuo-verbum acceptance) -
      keep that ****** of yours sophia
in a cage, because your thinking,
like your body, will become contaminated;
but one thing is for sure,
that concubine hagar running between
safa & marwa looking for water...
    can't imagine any other grander matriarch...
a reformed *** slave, who gave birth
to the niqab...
            i really can't imagine jannah
that way... i think it looks like:
1 man + 72 prostitutes,
              and 1 woman + 3 holes stuffed.
m Apr 2019
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
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happy is a lie
happy is a lie
happy is a lie
If orangutans become extinct then the co-existing species will also become extinct. This is because the orangutan is a keystone species and those co-existing species rely on the orangutans to live.
Francie Lynch Feb 2017
Red herrings tend to be trustworthy,
But lead us astray.
Orange orangutans are trustworthy:
If it looks menacing, it is;
If it grunts, it's meaningful;
If it moves, it's unpredictable.
In captivity they're studied
As evolutionary wonders,
But it's still an orange orangutan,
Pounding his chest.
Micheal Wolf Aug 2018
We tried to be better with each new cause.
But while we tried to save the whale, we polluted its home.
We tried to save the tiger but its home was used for lumber.
The orangutans deminished for Palm oil and crops.
Now the globe is warming and the oceans rise.
They're full of plastic and everything is dying.
So now we have only ourselves to blame for plastics, Monsanto and wild hurricanes.
The next great cause will be because of effect.
No one to save mankind, as he killed everything else.
Àŧùl May 2013
Zoo
The pretty Peacocks welcome me,
They have their colorful feathers spread for display,
They shake their bodies & attract me.

I then move towards the next enclosure,
I see an Asiatic Lion sitting gracefully like the King,
I realize that he in deed was the King.

I then see one of them sitting like a human being,
I was greeted by the awesome orangutans next,
I wish to get myself a pet orangutan someday.

Roaming half-way through the Zoo I get tired,
I decide to see the rest of the dream tomorrow.
My HP Poem #209
© Atul Kaushal
JoJo Nguyen Nov 2013
Tree of proto-monkeys,
brand and banded under Monkey King,
so clever, so adaptive
in substance and doing -
mushrooming in variants:
lemurs, monkeys old and new,
orangutans, gorillas, chimps,
and one big bushy brood
of extincted ***** brothers and you.

Trekking upright into dale,
valleys and over hills too
sore in feet to image
dragging a knuckle or two.

Scavengers making way,
scanning for patterns in
food moving or not,
adaptive doing from fin
to opposable rock.
John F McCullagh Jan 2012
The markets up, the Markets down
For weeks it just meanders.
Alas, my stocks are always down
Each time I take a gander.

GM, Lehman, Citicorp
My broker bought for me-
And you can guess the net result-
I’m broker now, not he.

Those friends who don’t avoid me
Say I’ve reversed Midas’ touch.
I don’t turn things I touch to gold
I turn gold into rust.

I’d heard dart tossing Simians
Can best the S & P
So I went to the Zoo this March
to consult a Chimpanzee.

He perused the chart then flung a dart
to pick a stock for me-
And now I’m getting margin calls
because I bought BP.

He seemed the sage of Omaha
before he ruined me.
I should have tried Orangutans
And paid their higher fee .

They wanted five bananas
My monkey worked for three.
But now I’m bust because I used
a discount Chimpanzee.

I might have dodged a massive loss
And profited besides
Had I but heeded the baboons’
Sell signaling behinds
Mike Hauser Oct 2013
One sunny day at the central zoo
Biff the gorilla grabbed the zoo keepers key
Before the employees had even a clue
Went and set all the animals free

Started out on Monkey Island
With the Orangutans and Chimpanzees
With the Giraffe's next in line
Cause they needed someone to see over the tops of the trees

When they were  through letting their friends loose
And all the keepers locked up in their place
They hit the streets and before anyone knew
The entire human race was in a cage

Now the animals are doing their very best
As  members of society at large
Still life is a mess if you haven't already guessed
Shouldn't have left the baboons in charge

With the pressures in life starting to show
Half the animal kingdom now in therapy
No one told them so they didn't know
That life in a cage was actually free

While the people enjoy themselves at the zoo
Three solid meals and all the naps they can take
Sunning themselves by the wading pool
Never wanting to go back to the so called good old days

Guess no matter which side you are on
The other side always looks better to you
Just remember if the time ever does come
Where ever you find that you're at...life is a zoo
Mike Hauser Jun 2014
There's something crazy going on these days
Down at the city zoo
The giraffes have joined the high society club
While the monkies are getting tattoos

The elephant's are packing up their trunks
And moving to the Bronx
With all the hippos on a diet
In an effort to lose their junk

The Lions have stopped lying
The cheetahs have stopped cheating
And as far as all their drinking
They're both going to A.A. meetings

The orangutans are the ones to blame
For a pyramid scheme gone bad
Left the zebras all in the red
When they lost everything they had

The crocodiles are out sunning themselves
By the pool drinking Piña coladas
While the mother snakes go on Maury
To try and figure out who is the father

Yes, things are a little crazy these days
Down at the city zoo
But if you were locked in a cage all day
Wouldn't you go crazy too?
Robin Carretti Feb 2019
The Gifted ones we turn into
The "Wild Ones" to be
The Chosen-Ones of the
Golden- Gods
Wild Oats organically
are grown into
your younger heart

   Like (Cheer)ios
Mysterious Honey O's
Uniquely-- tied-- unknown
Does everybody become ?
The Joker playing poker
Too many "Billygoats"

Wild card players
Playing jeopardy in
(January)
To be his chosen one
Miss (February)

True gifts the big ones
(March) in wild ones

The Emerald-Green door
planet
Poems on earth sonnet
(April) no fools I'm cool
Orangutans wild dolphins
Italian vineyards  
Wildlife Fruit surgeons

(May) I click to tease you
Shark bay will bite you
Getting burned with a
flat iron
Walk the talk Sea lions
Sea Cortez smartphones
Married in (June) candy Pez

So personal  in (July)
What awaits through
the__ door*
Mom brightens my August day
I pod imaginary dreamscape
Cat got your tongue
Darkness like Grunge
Amazon Jungle-book in
the lounge

Got Scrooged no gifts
To Google the camel got
your back move to the
frontline with her "Big Cats"
On the Jet gifts and magical hats
It pays to be wild
"The Man's Pleasure" he is 

The most wanted list
Oh! Christ
The last gift watch out
The Brittish are coming
to brighten up your
bucket list

Saint Nick canary slippery
hands tight fist protest
The wild ones "Readers Digest"
Trees and eyes don't lie
Knocking on heavens door
Don't be the swagger
**** Jaeger

White snow sugar dance the
Warm maple brown sugar
                        
I hear the Godly caller
Writers, all doors welcome
The wild ones the good ones but the bad ones seem to be the News story why are the good ones not the gifted ones stealing or too much dreaming the white lie Christmas  the trees don't lie take a piece of her  Wild cherry favorite pie
Sam Temple Jan 2016
flashes of the past crash into my mass
blasted and scratched, hide chapped,
I clap and shout at the memory
I approve of myself –
Old images of self-worth re-birth
And my fading girth is better for the earth
Large ***** pass gasses collapsing the greenhouse, but
I approve of myself –
Internal health and immeasurable wealth
As if the Delphi oracle imparted me
with love for self
growing stealth
with approval of myself –
affirmation nation retaliating against
infatuation with concentration camp
regurgitation
my patience wears thin and yet still
I approve of myself –
Granting panic stricken epidemic victims
Injections of insulin and bicarbonate soda
So the right wing harm bringers
Will no longer harbinger orangutans
Oh! the will of man…
Planning to land a dodge ram on the spam factory
Rectally cramming grandfather clock hands
Scamming bands of Ayn Rand fans
I approve of myself –
Derailed writings without direction
Making up things like “latterly”
…..better to just end it----
I approve of myself
And much of this message
I rarely delete so sometimes trash finds its way to all of you :)
Bob B Feb 2017
When humankind is out of control,
The world suffers a giant loss.
Threats of mass extinctions aren't
Difficult to come across.

More than half of the world's primates
Are on the verge of extinction due
To agriculture, logging, mining,
And hunting. Where's the hullabaloo?

Lemurs, chimps, orangutans,
And lowland gorillas are under threat.
When we endanger others, we also
Endanger ourselves, don't forget.

Habitat loss, climate change,
Wildlife trade…. Scientists fear
That if these are not halted, many
Primates will sadly disappear.

We're talking about numerous species--
A couple hundred, not just dozens.
What is wrong with **** sapiens?
How could we do that to our cousins?

-by Bob B (2-6-17)
Sam Temple Mar 2015
frozen ***’s *****
their frozen assets
assimilating accountants
asphyxiated by Asperger’s
arranging orangutans
assuaging appetites
all the while
alone
Sam Temple Mar 2014
effeminate orangutans sit
engorged to the state of grotesque
as passerby’s point sticky fingers
at rusty cages
gawking –
spark-less eyes long for wide expanses
looking broken and defeated on concrete slabs
cracked pads and chipped teeth
no longer fit for freedom –
matted fur, bug ridden
falls in clumps onto **** covered hallways
as drunk and illiterate keepers
snooze against a wall holding a shovel –
filth coated feathers and scarred scales
bring no joy to the caves
and even the butterflies are all cocooned
unless they were eaten by escaped scorpions –
the field trip takes on a different meaning as a volunteer
gone is the excitement to see strange animals
that is replaced with contempt and disgust
hidden beneath a smile
better the children find discontent in their own time –
Bunhead17 Sep 2014
Cloud nine, Kendrick Lamar, uh
I take a sip of Hennessy and then get pissy drunk
I ain't a drinker, I'm a thinker, call it what you want
But if you turn your back, know that you just missed your chance
to witness the realest **** that's ever been told to man
I found myself losing focus at a Sunday service
Embarrassed so I started questioning God, what is my purpose?
He say to live the way he did, that's all he want from me
Spread the word and witness, he rose on the first Sunday
I said alright, enthused that my Lord gave a listen
I opened my bible and searched to be a better Christian
and this from a person that never believed in religion
But ****, my life is so ****** up man, I can't help but give in
I'm giving testimonies to strangers I never met
Hopped on the pulpit and told 'em how I was truly blessed
Felt like I'm free from all my sins when the service was over
Walked out the church, then got a call that my homie was murdered
and lost my faith again

[Chorus: BJ the Chicago Kid]
What am I gonna do? Gotta have faith
Life is too much, understood? Where is your faith?
Oh, faaaaaaaith...
All you need is the size of a mustard seed

[Kendrick Lamar]
Single black parent from Compton raising children of four
That's four innocent *******, cause papa they don't know
Her day consists of working back and forth with babysitters
Can't find no one to watch her kids so she pay her sister
Her baby daddy ain't bout ****, that ***** ain't bout ****
Spent his daughter milk just to cop a new outfit
She pray to God every night hoping that he'll mature
and maybe one day his kids, something that he'll live for
Baby wanna go back to school but she need some help
because it's hard tryna pay the bills when you're by yourself
She thought about credit card scams till she heard a voice
that said the Devil is a lie, make a better choice
And so it's back to McDonald's and every month dealing
with them crazy *** people at the county building
Looked to the heavens and asked 'em to make a better way
Then got a letter in the mail, lost her section 8
Then lost her faith again

[Chorus]

[Punch]
Kendrick, I appreciate the opportunity to vent my *****
This about how faith works, yeah, murk it...
I had dreams of holding a nine-milla to raise Killa
Ask him why as my eyes fill up
Each day it gets more realer, orangutans bang like gorillas
It's jungle when the ****** ensue
The rat's lurking, vulture's circling the serpents
Cats lying through they teeth, my ***** didn't deserve it
I flirted with the idea of caressing the steel
to make karma come faster than she normally will
It's ill, to see my faith try and leave me
It's so hard to get it, to get rid of it is easy
I'm tryna reach cloud nine, that's what my ****** bout
But it never rain in California 'less them pistols out
Until then, my feet planted on the ground
Shadowboxing my conscience till my faith start responding
And if I get no answer, just know I tried
I should have never looked into his son's eyes
Ray Charles voice

[Chorus]

[Kendrick Lamar]
This for my people that stressing whenever times is hard
Your mind's slipping, wondering is there really a God?
Knowing you shouldn't think that way and tryna freeze your brain
But whenever it's pain, that feeling forever remains
We can't believe what we can't see and reality seems stronger than prayer
cause you tried to change your life, and now you live in a wheelchair
And your son was born with cancer and he live in urgent care
at the tender age of twelve, and you feel that no one cares
Searching for answers, that's human nature, you ain't in the wrong
Just know, when you feeling that way his spirit's in the room
I watched people I know pray and catch the Holy Ghost
and wonder why I ain't never caught that feeling before
Maybe they know him better, or I don't know no better
But what I do know is that he's real and he lives forever
So the next time you feel like your world's about to end
I hope you studied because he's testing your faith again

I'd rather not live like there isn't a God
than die and find out there really is, think about it
By Kendrick Lamar
#its harder to get faith then it is to lose it
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
what's the difference between
maine **** male cats,
and bloodhound dogs?
minimal, or non-existent: (
colon = i.e.,
much more than the
       mere italic refrain)...
both are clingy, both get
depressed easily,
to be honest, with one inkling
the like of horror movie soundtrack
as if it we're a lullaby and my
hand gesturing caress;
why oh why it was deemed
for me to assert the feline in feline,
rather than feline in woman?
oh well, cats it is...
         sure, i have the bundle of regrets,
then again:
at least, i have some.
damnation: being able to pet a cat,
but likewise unable to "mould" a woman...
crazy cat women, coming your way,
alongside obi wan kenobi's;
grooving in the cave,
with some i.n.x.s. in the background -
   jiggy jiggy orangutan -
the down syndrome kiddo
taking to break-dancing the face.
Mateuš Conrad May 2017
widze    (i see)
widelec...           (fork)
                                                 *widły
... (pitchforks)
                               hammer, and sickle...
or should it look like a hammer & scythe?
          etymology: the origin of words...
well... it's superior to darwinism...
                 the chimpanzee is a given.
now a terrible joke:
                      twirl the star of david
to represent a man sitting on a square
carpet opening a book...
a bit like twisting the *******
by the nazis...
           behind a crooked cross (slayer,
    south of heaven album);
                   fair enough...
but etymology is still superior regarding
darwinism... o.k. o.k., we, origin, from
monkey... chimps more apparentkly
than gorillas...
                           huh?
why not originating from madascar lemurs?
   did the eskimos come from orangutans...
**** me... down syndrome monkeys...
      orangutansdown syndrome
                                 (based on ****** features)?!
        knife = nóż...
                                                        ­łyżka = spoon.
in terms of using language?
                  darwinism is ****-all...
       it's about the "mystery" of etymology...
                      i really should have "said": the mystery...
        of etymology...
       at least there's some logic attributed to
the practice...
              too many images with darwinism exist...
         said conclusion of the base for
                         the concept of: "****" similis...
    or          simi similis...
            ******* satyrs...
    the origin of words (etymology) will always be
more important than comparing forms,
                                 i.e. humans with apes,
                       & tigers... with bonsais... i.e. cats.
Mike Hauser Apr 2015
Whilst perusing the internet
I happened upon a shopping site that
You could order the strangest kind
Of anything you find online

Like...

Dogs that talk
Pigs that fly
Birds that burp
Fish that sigh
Cows that cackle
Giraffes that might
drive your car
if you would like
Orangutans
with manicures
Floating souls
from the underworld
Ginsu knives
that slice and dice
A circus clown
that isn't nice
Chewing gum
that once was chewed
By the infamous
Mr.Magoo
A politician
that tells the truth
that is brand new
never once been used
A mirror that's
already cracked
with only six months
bad luck left
An iPod filled with
Disco tunes
A picture of Sean Penn
shooting the moon
McDonald's fries
with the salt licked off
A brown jar filled with
Whooping cough
A frog that comes
with its own warts
A visit from Mindy
minus Mork
A kite with only
half a tail
Escargot
that's really snail
Shorts once worn
by Daisy Duke
Scores and scores
of 70's Show tunes

Just about anything you would like
I found on this one awesome site
And desperately feeling the need
I ended up ordering one of each
Apparently this is what happens when I sit down at the computer and let my mind go....
It was fun though!
Jurtin Albine Aug 2016
I’ll be flying smoke screens on Venus's ******.

At the drop of the letter orange
an orangutans purse strings pulls at my wallet.

A corpse's spindle finger pointing me in a direction…

Trees bending shadows to blind the day.

A wind whispering to me in a human tone.

A madness telling me to leave it alone.

I’m so at home it’s unknown
and overly underwhelmed.

I’m grabbing at the helm,
but it was holding me afloat.

I pushed down so hard
by the time I pulled back
it broke under the pressure
of not understanding how to cope.

A final rope cutting me.

A blackened fuel from a golf swing
placing my humanity upon the desert’s green.

I could believe anything
if I will accept my own lies...

A twisted frame from a mangled mind.

It’s only just polished time
that gave us away...

A reflection show portraying all others
in directions we now sometimes go.

A final stroll down a scars
burrowed walkway
leading me back towards
the one remaining vertebrate…

An amphibian brain
in a leader of men.

I didn't even point it out,
all over again.
Blue skies Nov 2018
Families separated
‘Zero tolerance’ repeated
Greed rewarded
Explosions escape unnoticed
Forests continue to vanish
Orangutans for Oreos  

Couple of degrees hotter this year
We go to the beach
Ripples of plastic soup hit our feet
Storm scatters sand to our faces
But they’re already buried
Nodding to ‘Nice for what’

What are we doing?
Earth keeps spinning
Time tick tick ticking
Julian Aug 2020
Eyelash blinkered in hubris Rubik’s knight
Elevation of pogrom ennobled by triaged triumph minus the cynic summation of all light
Littoral swank bronzed like starlet fantasia with a Carey mountaintop jeer
Reichstag extinguished blaring sirens of cacophony capers to benumbed Linkin Park cheer
Knells intrepid by quakes of remonstrance staged in histrionic applause
Southern Colonies shifting in Charleston surgical in orderly slugabed dogged laws
Slipshod through ribbacles of rengall zenkidu among the sertivine poison ivy
Grimace at gamboled rivulets of a moribund Vanilla Sky for departed wiseacres of savvy dicey ICE toxic Harvey Dent slimy
A mannequin Marx Ralph alienated the truest alien by pioneering disdain of a hostage giraffe summiting a Swiss Alp
Master of time 12th bradycardia for Generator design parked beneath escarpments of base aphasia milquetoast in killjoy Strickland nickels away from a gubbertushed mouth
LOST legend enunciating the furor of epochs of egalitarian traipse
Trapped by the bootlick of a wrinkle of Van Winkle revolutionary agape
Curved by soliliquy master of belletrist prose
The vogue can’t help but bunt, balk, denounce the remembrance of Lady Madonna pose
We beat the muckrakers of rummaged lisp of culinary suns that the sons of privilege are emoluments to apolaustic zeal first known to transmogrified nuns, before the poppies made the few into many and the notion of an insuperable line of infinity into a spherical nullification of the concept of none
Estrapade engorges the fustilug magnet of the kitsch Kenosha Chicago Demolition drive-by-derbies “once read”
That two kings one Titanic by skin-color dashed dreams the other both the coins of tails eloped with heady dreams of head
Sacrifice shadow dancing with pettifoggery in slumps of aboriginal dances of marsupial rice
Native to extortion gouged blind as Samson exacts lachrymose cremations of Pikes Peak trick-or-treat aghast with fright
Temples raised in 46 years cemented never in the Mumbo Jumbo politics of those lacking the oceanic schadenfreude among queers
That by their exclusion the panmixia of fluid alchemy is dauntless scrabble limited by NORAD notions of Tears for Fears
Henpecked rooster awakens the serfdom of Ronald’s (sly spy) Drugs sailing with dovetails of elapse downtrodden in modern clubs
Drunken *** addict sell-out charlatans berated  by Ingram Angles sent by maleficence are the grubhub of Harriet Tubman torching promising tapestries with rugged rugs
Slinging the bait of fish-hook dimples on freckled effigies of ****** humiliation outmantled by Mickey weight
I thunder a fulgurant explosion against recrimination of white-collar criminals that philander saturnalia in pretense with facetious swarpollock freight
Crooks of tyranny exhort the paranoiacs of indemnity to sunken canned soup applause of a Warhol extortion
Berating my audience with drooling slavers of inelegant tortoise byzantine like an Istanbul dredged with intortion
Mr Deeds is not a champion of BRE Properties nor the pinnacles of inertia, a psychiatric squeeze
My orange juice is not a car chase against treecheese in terminal punitive disease
Soaring with the prosperous tongue against the walloped nativism of pounced impounds having too much fun
I let the other guardians of the order of salvation pivot vitriol in loaded dice against Orangutans of Swedish minted gum
Caesar died for the seizure of Anglican pride of a namesake percolating millenia for Brutus in the Washington Bullets of a conquered Ottawa on strike carnal with Chauvinism in regional divide
Never has there been a more hollow trope than the agency of deep state defamation of a scurrilous backbite of gnashing pride
Lost to pollster tricks of acquiescence and caricatures of a menacing personage Swift on the Riff but never the snarling Menace of a Blondie Biff
I tower above the anthills of conformity of luxury in Jamaican Bob Sled Teams testing the curiosity of enlightened “What Ifs”
Canada Dry for striking people enthused by Rye abides in the memory of reform that skulks the skunks that make every Scudworth cry
Because a Dental Dam damsel living in streets of peril fascinated by distance is the contortion of entreaty in the pasquinade of attempts at American Pie
May the city of a figurative crucifixion burn with the irony of a thousand suns as Wendy’s burgers unload on prejudice with albatrosses of winsome puns
Fixed data interpolated by convenient lies of serial killers who aim for blue skies shanked in Oswald infamy for the imposture of any flashbang revenge against cinematic guns
I blacklist the Zemeckis villainy as a trudge of travesty
Hedged lies blinkered by Batman and Robin puns redeemed by Dinosaurs of Amnesty
Obviously belittled by futures etched by a more honest infinity
Because 88 keys are not a stroke because the infinite bees know the parlance of divinity
Invited lissome taxidermies of Capone against teetotalers of parvanimity of vainglory overthrown
Showers the honest hominist reckoning of a world where neither crudity of know-nothing radical polarization owns every inept baritone
Crusading a secular war because the gubbertushed eccedentesiast spinsters of Santa Cruz deserve a gassy overtone
Torch the SC Pacific Avenue for peace
Let the world unite behind a singularity with purpose in ventilation of Speedman’s release
That antithetical Jacks of many names are wed with the progeny of enduring lists of NSA protection rather than rentgourge Denver PD eager to chaos decimated by the decimals of a region forever boycott and impeached
To the decisive curling of the frolicked Abandoned Pool servitude crass disasters are the sheol of impudent flagrant overreach
Regnant on the turmoil of invented throne
I scowl at the chicanery of Capone’s Chicago sweltering with Kenosha infamy tossing contortionist strippers a vulcanized bone in a DIA Diamond that even 11,500 years of knowledge is surpassed in condemnation of screaming E.T. calling the right home
Speak Now because the reach of forever is God appeased not by a kowtow but a mobilized ambition for Why? When? And How?
History will remember gentility as the kind steward rather than a Disco Demolition Derby of urbacity venerating a seasonal Golden Cow
Hipsters flock with folly to South African extortion for freebooters who bootlick the aceldama of war against the sublime currency of a winner surrounded by thugs
TOO MANY URBAN KIDS ARE TAUGHT BY REDUCTIVE TAUTOLOGY TO HATE The United States of America RATHER THAN NURTURING SYNCRETISM IN PATRIOTIC HUGS
Imperfect in design with disagreement in plainest sight
Sometimes libertarianism with a Democratic twinge is clearly in the right that should believe in reform even when the footloose girouettism is too tight
Yet forestalled for authentic grit the grisly rentgourge of venal abysses knows the countermand against Rand with hyperboles of the clearest *******
The true flock congregates around scepters built not with militant graft but a promenade of sultry dance for the defiant C.L.I.T.
Exercise with the Rock knowing school buses of dogmatism inferior are distraught
Dying dogmatism is a peacock of industry the yeggs can easily unlock rather than truckle with truculent Scottish Rites tasty with Connery Scotch
Defenders of the misleading staircase because of the carapace of Hovering pertinacity easily won and bought
Neither scary nor deliberate streets are rumpus of elevations of unbounded anarchy considerate but robbed by the illiterate
That the delegated mansion will be robbed by the cooperation of the remorseful idiot recognizing his snide mendaciloquence in destructive Roswell Records limerick
Scowls are on petrol and patrol hoping Tesla is a short of bravado too intrepid to sanction free-for-all profligacy in alleys that bowl
To the Emerald Street lie of hypes of perdition rather than merely a seasonal token embarrassment coal
The fossilized future is the irrevocable past because more respect is needed than the ***** of a maskirovka caste
Diamond Lightning in Bhagavad Gita prancing with the delusion of the everlasting mummification of Brawndo ash
Dinner with Egyptsy malingers on tomes etched flippant in integrity and all about the curated snare of kitsch cash
The cache valley of LASER tag shattered like Joseph Smith flagellating the confederate hayday with articulate gnash
Fast & Furious the amused by Suburban subway know the trailblazer trashes of The Stupids’ being Einstein about Boogie Dubs rather rash
Streaking through a Tucker rule the Buccaneers live for the SoulSeek of a riddled ruler benighted of prerogative of Roger Goodell bumping in his Ferrari the tucked serenade of Tool
Wrong band because they linger in the shadow dancing backpages of scandals of Norweigan hourglasses of shameful hush hush Vikings mining furloughs of pulverized anticipation sand
Humbled retinue shelves the ossified limpid droll drool
As the haze of submarines scouting pridefall galls of indolence betraying innocence becomes moral cigarettes of Menthol Kool
Reparations for chappy chapstick games of bowery riches
The urbane needs to read, discern and maneuver against whiplash found in Navi witches
Swapping homes with crack addict legalese an *** to a bronzed party crackling with cackles Home Alone
Knows a toiletry of escape gullible like Seahawks wishing they could contain a fumbled season by Mahomes
Jones methamphetamine paranoiac manure desiccated by folksy homilies of brimstone cremation deserts his flock to abide by a flagging wayward temptress
Decimated by the agency of time his Austin crenellation flounders in grimace of the untimely swoon his covert empress
Blinded by the light of darkness in subversion
Excoriated for the deeds of his permission to demote commotion into only an acquiescent dance with barbed etch-a-sketch conclusion- a half-baked *******
Quacksalver poetaster wrinkled with hatred simpering paranoia strangled by Hendrix abeyance of turgid delusion
Lurid underground Princeton gilds infested with defected dementia in cozens in the fritty of heralded mistress SHE appointed
Sandlot ravens cloistered the bravado of thirst for chosen words scrappy in clawed henpecks the pointless illegal sanctioned to brusque witticism anointed
Lamps of pathway sparkle with coruscated stargazer Winslet dreamy swank illustrious by providence
Engrenage of delopes of pettifoggery identity staggers the woozy dismal day of disjointed wounds on Native sons Denver can’t damage in a lonely campaign for the prodigal bends of Overlook Lorraine Motel bent
Intrepid in gallantry I swoop the scrivello tusked with might
Penetrating the vivid dreams of the serenade of alpenglow daylight
That love might rule over chance and probability above the specter of dynasty prodigy progeny tithing gravity in rent
Yet this taper of majestic poise will outfox even the careless gambles of the prodigal son Mr Sender already traipsed conquered and went
The mountaintop is so clear from the cloister of authenticity drinking Eminence Front of the WHO rather than the coherence of the near
Because titans shepherd the good flock without insult and not quavering with insuperable time flackey with tremulous fear
I dare this day to outlast benighted ignorance of the narrow gate of a persecution tsunami on a Lisbon tear
Because galloping ahead of the internecine sheds the serpentine craft of 3:1 Genesis met with the worst fleeced fleer
Not auctioned off like ******* vogue to the disfavor of poor taste
I am the true Royal Flush that can always count on the aced basic but mostly acidic flourish of a jest in bass predicated on the basis for Mozart pH
Today could be the summit of acclimated prodigy in startled degrees temerity could never bet against
Because you better bet the Bros and Cos of civilization are skilled in ostentation of Sterling Pound defense
Never offensive to the liturgy of triumph beckoning an apocalypse now tentative memory on a Manifest Destiny frontier rarely on wickers of extinguished cattle ranchers knowing the gamut of acumen to defend a fortress with the best fencing James Bond could dispense
Now is either a cordial joke of a flagrant anarchy balking at destiny
Or the sunrise majesty of the twelve tribes and beyond defeating the stingy bees of infamy
Your choice doesn’t defeat my voice
But your action heralds my loyalty with a triumphant Victoria of an age not for agelast geeks intimidated but living clairvoyance with fidelity to the right choice for the right time to swim in elegant rejoice
(1977 Words)
GaryFairy Oct 2021
On Facebook

for leaving a comment on a post about Orangutans. The article was about how they found that primates have an actual language. It's not like I said "duh". Another person said that they were probably talking **** about us. My comment said "**** them"!

Thanks Facebook for helping me realize that i'm not funny. And thanks for giving me a week to think about my actions(or what some lifeless ***** thinks is an action). A facebook ban is in the best interest of anyone who gets banned. Anyone who reported my comment as hate speech, has a lot more to face up to than me...and it's all saved on the master server.

A week of full on, beautiful reality.
if typing out a stupid thought is an action, we lose our rights...and many great writers would have never existed. I got your backs, even though you would stab mine.
Mateuš Conrad May 2017
.currently? the european fencing championship is taking place (alice volpi, what a beau!), as is the european football woman's champion, which am i watching? the fencing... i once said: what is the most ****** aspect of a woman's body... i'd settle for the thigh, but the hand wins it, every, single, time... she's missing a knuckle, such petite geisha hands, such chihuahua detail: the mandarin have a "proverb": everything that is small, delights... women fencing, fully clothed in their gear: well, it's not latex, but it does expose the one hand... who the hell needs catwalk models when you have such classics as alice volpi? i can't watch woman's football, sorry, no, tennis i can appreciate beyond the male competition... some sports are better done by women... gymnastics... fencing is another... but football? n'ah ah... i'm a sports fan, an eclectic fan... but one thing is for sure: i'm no ****** fanatic... when i watch a football match i always root for the underdog, i don't "have" a team... to me sport doesn't translate into a religion passed down by generations of horses donning blinders... i like table-tennis, archery, i still don't know why baeball will become an olympic sport: while squash is denied... sqaush? probably the most fun sport in existence... rubber ball which you have to warm up, if i remember correctly: 3 tiers of hardness... rubber: so you have to warm the rubber up to let it give out a good bashing... my favorite game plan? strike on the side walls... get the corner... confuse the "opponent" / flat-mate... mind you... "confusion"... " ": hardly a misnomer, hardly a metaphor, more or less an insinuation bracket... the quote of the quote of a "quote"... oh look at you pwetty whittle bwit... tarantula bite you on the tongue? lost the trill, have you on the R? let's sharpen it with the rune ᚱ... well... not as bad as the frankish hark of the rattle-snake... more: tongue-numbed bound to wobber and the wipple effect enclosed into a "lisp"... i hate people with a phonetic encoding akin to R, that do not trill, who, have, "lost" it... talking about runes...  wanna see something, fun?! akin to the Rod of Asclepius? what were you expecting, the Sword of Damocles? did you know... that violin bows, are made using horses' manes, yes yes, the hairs... for the miserere mei deus (Bach)... and this sword, hang over the Sicilian tyrant by only one thread of the mane... never mind... the Rod of Asclepius... Asclepius being the father of Hippocrates... eh, mortals, *******, ****-buddies, ******* sons, geneologies... what a carnaval! see any similarities, "elsewhere" in the x-ray of language? oh, but i see one... i present to you... the runic grapheme that wasn't a grapheme... a homosexual birth... when ᛊ & ᛊ  merged together... the two suns merged, and gave birth to ᛝ... Yngvi... ŋ, a subtle grapheme, mingling n and ȷ... nȷern: near... so what will it be: pwetty bwitish boy: stop trilling the R, hark it like a Frank? last time i checked while talking to Isabella of Grenoble: the Franks used to trill their R... until they "evolved"... at least they hark, you, mon ami were bitten by a ******* a tarantula, you're numb and both as ready as a lisp cwusade-r/w... ***** is my first name, drunk's the second... my prime addictions are: sleep, and... vocabulary... on a side note... thank god i was not circumcised... i can at least ******* in peace... since? the "bad" thing is not that you visisted a *******: it's that you didn't behave like Jacky Boy'oh:  the Rippler... let's just leave it at: giving you enough ambition to steal a kiss from one of these ladies... that's enough... i already kissed the throne of Bulgaria with these women i was with... Bulgarian... they said: they said they were Bulgarian women... but... eh, funny... they uttered a Russian sounding word... Хорошо: okay... last time i checked... Romanians were proud of their history as being part of the Roman empire... so they wouldn't have applied the Cyrillic alphabet... Bulgarians have applied the said alphabet... darker skinned, raven black hair... who the **** is going to be picky a *******?! slightly old, young, chubby etc. the details do not matter... there's nothing bad in seeing one, modern society prescribed us the 3Ps: priests, psychiatrists, prostitutes... i tried all 3, the last gave me the most enduring stamina... but it's what you do in the act that matters... the act itself is irrelevant... i quiet like their company... beats having to write a ******* sing-along for the taxman celebrating the beatles... oh yeah, i'm royaly ******, but not as ****** as some of these saudis with slavic wives... seeing one documentary: i'm still surprised as to why these camel-jockey sand-******* are no castrated... muhammad would do a stalinist sweep-up with these modern saudis... he'd castrate three-quarters of them... such are the graces of decadence: first comes degeneracy, then comes weakness, after that: sheltered confidence, which implies a second tier of weakness; oh, and bangladeshi slaves.

this is why the english could never, really,
                  ever manage existentialism,
or even fathom it, or, let's say, conjure it up,
which, might add up to a 35 hour working week of
the french, who could... while the english faked being
as efficient as their german ancestors,
who... well... were addicted to working?
summary of english existentialism (based on darwinism):
    and we descended from the trees!
             and walked into the caves!
and then we left the caves!
                            and conquered all the species
hostile to us!
       and then we built mortgaged caves!
     and then the snakes came, once more...
                             and suckled at our incomes!

we're talking thousands of years, as some suggest
even millions...
                      i have to fold that into my puny brain,
like also lodging into: can't read a map...
   but i can tell you... copernicus was right...
  the earth... it ain't flat.
                                              the ******* on about?
darwinism erases history as it goes along...
they call it natural selection...
        they could also call it: finicky historicity...
a penny sweats arcade... like the muslims are doing...
        and all this mantra from women reducing men
to apes... hopefully i could aspire to be a mozart...
but no... i'm just supposed to say: ooh ooh pikachu!
but even aspiring to a gorilla is hard...
           the ****** could rip my hands off!
     what's the point of writing history,
when darwinism, simply erased, pretty much all of it?
natural selection... sure... and then came selective historicity...
and then the hide & seek of: hide: doubt, seek... deny;
if there is, such a thing as english existentualism,
it's a bad joke... sure, modern commentators
think that the original french and german existentialists
were boring sods...
      no... i can't think of any good idea to construct
an existentialism in english...
                         if it could be done... it would probably just sit
along a chimpanzee, in a zoo... fiddling with its thumbs:
yes, like? no, no like? yes, like? no, not like?
i could have sworn, that i chatter to louis xiv,
or edward, the confessor;
       it's still hard to believe, i was only talking to a bunch
of monkies... and not all the sub-genus kinds...
odd... just chimps...
                     not the gorillas... not the macaques...
           not the lemurs... just chimps... weird, huh?
                           i still think i'm descended from eskimo
rather than ****** africa; come on! the ice age movies!
              what would be the point of moving north...
to freeze your *** off?! oh yeah, and shedding your fur would
really make sense by then.
orangutans? monkeys with down syndrome.
         if sloths... yawn... i'd rather be in their genus (family).
Micheal Wolf Feb 2017
Valentine's day for a feminist?
Is it really taking the pish?
She's far too busy burning her bra to bother opening her cards.
Send her flowers, if you dare and hope they aren't Nigerian
Fields of blooms tended to, by oppressed enslaved women you stupid fool.
Chocolates is another risky venture because she's environmently friendly!
She likes orangutans more than you and palm oil harvests just not good.
So think before you send her flowers, you could end up disembodied or at best like Morrisey
and not daffodils shoved where the sun ain't been.
Chocolates are far to risky and cards could lead to fists of furry.
As for **** underwear or things that buzz that are just for her?
Send her them if you dare and god forbid don't ask her to wear them.
She will tie you up with pantyhose ram the tickler up your nose
The handcuffs may become of use, to keep you still as she gets her shovel!
So on the 14th don't take a risk
Say **** all and just play safe
Just smile and don't go anywhere near
Where other fools once tried and paid dear
For under her patio there is still space, that puts a smile on the feminists face.

If I disappear after this you know where to look
Asked by a friend to write
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2017
autism is the counter-theoretical term for solipsism.

my curiosity at my cat's curiosity
concerning a moth;
if ever the reverse
of the biblical eye-for-an-eye
could be true...
    it would be
           the quivalent
of the *templar cantos
;
it's still
    but a man
   and a cat,
        and a cat curious
about a moth having
   a shadow...
  and the man
       curious as to how
a cat has a meow;
fiddly bits, spiders,
        scavenging the keyboard
for the third silence...
beyond alphabet,
beyond diacritical markings,
             beyond all knwon
skeletal procession celebrated
in mexico...
             i admit, a cat fetish...
**** me, aren't cats ontologically
                     autistic?
for me orangutans
resemble down syndrome...
           as cats resemble autism.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
the ethos of arbeit has overpowered the english speaking people, with a sarcastic notion of liebe, and made both work, and love, arbitrary, nay, nasally said: homophilic: too many phobias are spoken off, spiders in the guise of arachnophobia don't suddenly become islam! you see any gigantus aranea roaming the streets?! for the most part, i'm closer to see popes walk naked in a francis bacon sketch of the affairs... let's be honest, the holy ghost has become run over by the other spirit, the other phrase of sophia, the zeitgeist, not this church infested cockroach colony of the platzgeist with a few crimson cardinals numbed into mumbling their mea culpas ave marias... the senile old ******* just died, with: a few more thousand young men, born into a world without having to succumb to the "tender" female noir of a bambi (transgender times, live with it) harem ******* occupiers in the form of: zee heff! i'll be crying as much when, some other public personage dies... although i did grit my teeth when my great-grandmother died, managed to bite off a scalpel of tooth with my other tooth... funny, i can still tongue the canyon proof.

and it's the antithesis of the # (hashtag) generation,
namely? the súdokū...
   plus the english ******* explanation of
needing the hyphen, as a diacritical mark
to ease, sorry, forget the poncy ***** ******
talk of "proper": lubricate the dissection
of cutting a word open into alphabet street...
   it would otherwise look more like su-dough-coup
with the p in bracket form ( ), since the french
over the antithesis of dyslexia compared
to the english, they just add letters that do not,
require attendance / mention.
          but that's the case, every time i solve
this *** sushi riddle i can't but compare it to
the zeitgeist of the hashtag...
              so i perch on a windowsill like a
wake of vultures of a lion reaching gluttony scene,
and start thinking: hey, how about we pair up
and pecker off that sod of a robert plant?
give him the curly wurly momentum,
start to peck at his ***,
  and then give him a vulture's barber effect
of trichotillomania?
there's bound to be a lesson in that,
    what with ol' hef gone, we only 'ave to
worry aboot the hoff...
             ha ha... when hef met hoff,
           and the **** never stopped,
even leaving king solomon a tad bit jealous.

i sit on a pile of rubble, and call it a castle -
time ref. to counter the darwinist -
and yes, the saharan desert was once a
mountain range akin to the alpes - or the himalayas -
as any chemist would, side with the geologists
than than the biologists: mushy mushy doesn't
buy my effort, the biologists just expanded
history, we might as well make the *other

connection, between desert and mountain,
ergo: time,
       takes a lot of it,
          pretty much as much as space,
             apes have become debased genesis foci...
too many variations of it,
you'd have to start with eskimo and say:
  well: the orangutans seemed pleased with
a down syndrome replica...
                so just the chimps? no gorillas?
i still like my counter darwinism argument,
the counter biology, the lost mushy mushy
cushioning of certainty -
    like any chemist, i live for the hard stuff,
comes no harder than siding with geology,
saying: the epitome of times comes in
the form of the saharan mountain range,
that, given enough time (and we have a lot of
that now) - eroded into a sand-dial...
    irony, or divine intuition?
          and didn't the bible give off a whiff of:
and then a dinosaur went into eden:
   hey, be gods, try to, even,
  watch out, a ******* meteor might just come;
there's no fundamentalism contained
in a book that was written by an egyptian
prince...
    just a lack of poetic integrity in the interpretation...
i still don't see how poetry is slagged,
but the basic tenet of poetic writing is
taken, without a pinch of metaphor,
or counter-metaphor, in that it can be expanded
and be applied like a philosopher's stone,
to turn any known material into gold!

which brings me to another point, well, two,
how do you gain respect from the cats
you're petting?
             you sleep longer than they do.

point 2...

why has reading become such a "tedium" /
"accomplishment" -
   i'll tell you why, i don't like a language
of thinkers, i live a language realm of babblers...
the right to say blah is worth more than
the right to think oh...
                speaking has become too easy,
solidified by that fact that (if not even est.)
when someone writes a book, it becomes,
oh, the most glorious accomplishment!
     wow... these people really managed to
shut their gobs, and write a book?!
         wow... it's like seeing the fruition of
the event that didn't take place, that would have
been the out-doing of the hebrew architectural
tenure on the pyramids, that would have been
the hanging gardens of babylon,
that was, eventually, the poor nebuchadnezzar
crawling and snorting like a pig for seven years...
if you thought the pyramids were
a mad idea,  
    the jews finally solved the riddle exclaiming:
o.k., you know what, that's just
bonkers... you're about as mad as your hyena
grandfather, or father, or whatever he was
for asking to the seas to obey him by whipping
them (xerxes)...
  it's that unamazing to write a book these days...
or it really is, given that you have ghosts
writing them...
       ****, and they said the paranormal
didn't exist... really? ghost writers?
       maybe that's one of the reasons that when
don juan wrote his memoir,
  after bouts of not getting any, he invited
himself to a better pastime than jerking off...
well, might as well die a boring sod since
i'm not getting any, any more...
       me? i always thought of jerking off as
performing ****...
     i can't imagine the hand to be anyhow
different to the muscular ****...
    and for some reason,
i always end up thinking of the queen of england
waving: to add the seasoning of lacklustre
to the whole affair:
  like i'm there, but not really, there -
the roy orbison effort to make that:
strenuous effort at opera -
     and he was hardly the modern comparison
of a pop star with neck arteries protruding;
and he's still better than elvis.

word of wisdom:
  in the medium of poetry?
write by one technique, and one technique
alone...
          digression...
well, that's how i was taught english,
by a pict.
Mike Hauser Jun 2018
There's something crazy going on these days
Down at the city zoo
The giraffes have joined the high society club
While the monkies are getting tattoos

The elephant's are packing up their trunks
And moving to the Bronx
With all the hippos on a diet
In an effort to lose their junk

The Lions have stopped lying
The cheetahs have stopped cheating
And as far as all their drinking
They're both going to A.A. meetings

The orangutans are the ones to blame
For a pyramid scheme gone bad
Left the zebras all in the red
When they lost everything they had

The crocodiles are out sunning themselves
By the pool drinking Piña coladas
While the mother snakes go on Maury
To try and figure out who is the father

Yes, things are a little crazy these days
Down at the city zoo
But if you were locked in a cage all day
Wouldn't you go crazy too?
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2021
i'm a mangled sort of man... i'd love to tease the whole alpha-male / beta-male dichotomy... use some other greek letters (i will use one) like γ-male or σ-male... someone in history once said... i'm the alpha & the omega... well... i'm an omega-male... i go to brothels, i ride a bicycle at night on Sunday when the air is crisp and devoid of wind and traffic pollution: devoid of traffic to begin with... reaching speeds that make my eyes water... my estimate it... 30mph... i don't date: never have, never will... why would i pay for food and hope: "hope" for getting laid, when i can bypass all the ******* with a *******? i don't own a car because i don't want to pay road tax... i don't want to pay for parking... i don't want to pay for insurance or an annual m.o.t. check... obviously i have to fork out on an inner tube from time to time... a new tire... some chain grease... even on the outskirts of London... if i wanted to cycle into London to admire it... hell... it beats walking in and around the sights... even if it's a 15 mile sloth ride's worth past Little Bangladesh of: from Ilford through to Mile End... it's a lot easier not being native of this land... even the foreigners have this knack of citing: born & bred... well... born 'ere... hardly bred... i was living on these shores from 1994... my father came in 1990... he would have been legally allowed to stay in 1997... since... every illegal immigrant living for 7 years... covertly... in England would be allowed to stay... we were deported in 1997... on the day that we heard princess Diana was killed in a car crash... my grandfather was visiting... trauma... the day before we went to a makeshift entertainment park with... oh i remember it well... the name of the ride is a bit murky... but it was like a ferriswheel that started spinning horizontally before slowly changing to a vertical rotation... i was fierce in competition sliding a ball into several holes on an elevation to win a... crimson rottweiler imitation plush toy for my mother... which i did... the next day princess Diana died... the home office came... with the police... an old school version of Batman & Robin was playing on the t.v.... my father made a runner... they caught him... i watched as my parents were hand-cuffed... in my room i was standing looking at the wall when a home office police officer came in and said: earnestly... nice computer... i turned around and gave him... eh... a death stare... when the commotion was over i was sobbing and punching the wall... while my grandfather didn't know what to do... they released my parents after a day's worth of interrogation... we were politely asked to leave the country in a space of a month... or two weeks... so we sorted everything out... gave a newly bought cat to my ****** uncle etc. and left... for a year... the world cup was happening in France (1998) while i watched the final in complete blackout with my great-grandmother, Mary... i even remember the opening ceremony... but the place was changed... i was to be put into a school for autistic children... generally... problem children... i couldn't just... be reintegrated into the schooling system in Poland... so... i was home-schooled... math... and still... reading books in English... that's how i came across... the Little Prince... all my friends designated my a: traitor's role... we changed our surname... a ****** name in ****** to begin with... even ******* surname in English... if only there was a German SCH in it... much more sense... yes... i was, am... was... an economic migrant... like your Turk in Germany...  but since we're talking... someone from under the old Warsaw Pact... suspicious?! well... no suspicions now! i don't even know whether they're my countrymen... it only takes one Muslim to suppose you're a German that... well... i'll go with that... but hey! now the natives have invited the Afghans to a Scarborough hotel... and it's... going... oh so well! am i still a "racist" if i ****** a black girl and dated a half-indian? ****** a Roma girl... a Thai surprise and... ooh... the love of my life... if i had to put it into 30 minute's worth... ol' raven haired Turkish delight... my ******* yummy... at this point... i'm all shovel & dust... i simply don't care... that's the plan... as i once remarked: the best plan is to... have no plan... just the will to overcome personal griefs. i'm not native enough to care... we were supposed to treat England as a stopover before, hopefully reaching Canada via Argentina... but then that massive crash in Argentina happened... i returned to England... somewhat... refreshed... i'll write in Ing-Leash... i'll speak in Ing-Leash... i'll even... for ****'s sake THINK in Ing-Leash... but in private?! to hell with speaking this language! i'll speak in ****** while teasing myself with some German! hell! i'll even employ Greek! Latin!

it's hard to orientate your unconscious when you
hear stories that...
being born with a Chernobyl "tattoo" (on my right
shoulder blade, later removed)...
plagued with hernia...
and the fact that some nurse tried to **** you while
in hospital... monstrous hybrid...
i wasn't born a monster...
             how i became one...
                            at least intellectually...
the assassination attempt by this nurse
was a failure... my heart was enlarged...
enlarged to the point of, what?
loving everyone... the select few...
now... it's the size of a pebble...
i sometimes feel its gravity sinking my chest
into an implosion...

hence my suspicion of all women...
well... except the prostitutes...
those women i'll love even if my whittle wichard
malfunctions because i'm so drunk &
so limp that i end up asking her
for words for eyes, mouth, freckles, fingers
in her Romanian... later the same girl
is donning pigtails... but no schoolgirl uniform...
of course i'm suspicious:
it's unconscious: from what i've been told...

oh i'm so familiar with this thought-out plot
of "privilege"... for a while in England
i forgot about race...
now... it's glaring in my face... i went along with
the narrative for so much time...
now i'm asking questions a child might ask:
why are these current... "illegal" migrants allowed
to stay... rough up a hotel in... wherever...
while in 1997... i was politely told to leave?
i might be petty now...
but back then...
back then from the few outliers there was no real
concern for race...
then again: the attack from the grammatical
side of things: pronoun me you this that i & the other...
it's hard not to see a second recurrence
of a culmination crux that galvenized
a Charles Manson...
this **** (time) is on repeat! it's absolutely...
petrifying!
it's like the 20th century... at least its later halve
is... what it is! something best avoided but
at the same time: unavoidable!
nothing's current: in that everything is recurrent!
it's not like history is dead...
nothing ever really dies...
and since it doesn't die...
and cannot return to something resembling
a linear setting... it has accumulated itself
in... time as cyclic... ergo non linear...
the 20th century has given us that...
i always thought that space was a cyclic invention...
what with the orbit of planets etc.
but time seemed to be forever... linear!
that's not the case anymore...
prior to the 20th century... sure... time, with hindsight
appears to be linear...
but now?! now?! it's a cyclic mess!

today i was pondering ******* off to Poland
to keep my grandmother company...
become an English teacher
and live in a ******* of my birth...
the metallurgical industry is non-existent...
what will i do? teach more ****** girls and boys
some English to come over here for
the brain-drain and what... surf the great tide
of... the world sub-staining?

double-standasrds... why can't i inherit the merit
of my fellow country-men in the survival
of the United Kingdom...
those airmen who had dog fights with spitfires
across the English sky?
i can't: i wish i could...
i need to make my own mark...
like in conversation with my mother, today...
she can compliment on my i.q.:
but beside my i.q.: i'm "lazy"... i'm narrow...
i'm whatever insult pleases you to entertain...
my mother is like my past girlfriends...
if you want a ******* cushion!?
here! lay your head on this stone! ******.

my father always had the softer approach...
my heart it spent...
it has shrank to the size of a date...
a pebble...
                    i'm listening to:
for ****'s sake... Templar music...
  die eisenfaust am lanzenschaft...
and i see it! i see it... women!
they require so much attention from stone-hearted men!
they need to be slapped-up a bit...
no joke...
      they go off on their trans-racial escapades
and return... what? *****?!
******* gloomy... properly disinhibited...

******* curry... so much science goes into
a curry... i need to have it explained...
bake me a proper baked chicken:
Kurvinder...
oh wait... you can't!
you're going to dice the chicken ******* up...
forgo using the entirety of the corpus
hardly saute the meat... just soak it the gravy...
tell me... lucky you:
with the addition of spices...
curry isn't exactly the highest extent of
the collective human: cuisine...
but the way it's being ate: subsequently sold...
it's the only cuisine left available...
i like a curry... but for, ****'s sake...
i also love Baltic sushi surrounding the mythology
of the herring!

dill! dill! & a creamy sauce with pickled cucumber!
i never attached much concern for
the love of my mother: i don't she ever allowed me
to attach it...
she has even prescribed her final will as being...
lost on the "tablature" of medical students...
she's to become a corpus readied for medical practicses...
i can't bury her... curry her... scatter her ashes..

if my mother doesn't wish me to be a weakling...
my father sees unimportant...
tras-racial sexuality is such a faze
for a lot of these girls...
it's great mingling among Kenyans
******* fellow Kenyans...
no one ever asked... in pop... context...
don't do Orangutans...
resemble...down syndrome specimens?!
oh i get the gorilla, the chimpaneze...
but an orangutan?
the eyes are not... bother somely close
together?
to reiterate... the people selling "us"...
Darwinism are not selling us
the... Wittgensteinian admiration
for the Copernican model of
heliocentricity... oh wow... the first to not...
make it a summit of discovery crediting
Galileo... such an un-western "thing" to do...
*******...
          i'll be siding with the Russians and
the Ancient Greeks from now on...
you... plausible palsy... ******' retards!
no... you had your fun!...
now comes the wound... now comes the salt!

i was illegal once... i learned my lesson...
the day itself was made "illegal" since princess Diana died...
then i became legal after a hiatus...
best be... the happy camper...
             now? Noah! Noah!
you want me... to... reintegrate: inegrate myself
to suit... there was a ******* Warsaw Pact...
the pan-Slavic movement that nourished the birth and kept
upheaval of the Soviets...
the Slavs were to come together...
sure... beside the Serbs who...
well the Ottoman Empire were supposed to do X...
we'll do Z...
but we excluded all the barbers..
Y? oh **** knows... let's call in "NATO"...

it's welcome though: we're the... ahem... little people...
apart from the women.. they know their worth....
they can be snatched up: h'americana ridiculed...
subsequently let loose!
by numbers... i reduce my concern for reality
with tye numbers i'm given:
i'm always like... this ****... best not happen..
in my vicinity... if it does...
i'm out... no... there's no "game".

i'll say what my mother is of afraid of saying:
we're walking abortions...
sorry... but that's what we are...
i believe that there's traction... serious traction for
this opinion in...
the "land of the free"...
i personally feel like a walking abortion..
i ought to feel like... argh... grr...
sort of ownership of manhood..
i substituted ***** envy with beard envy:
but now...
no.... even my mother disqualifies me
as being... "proper" recipient...
of... "reciprocation"...
lesson learned...

  i need to become a dis-hearted...
a... a heartless man.
cool cool...
i can do that...
                         sell me some painkillers will you?
or am i smooth as **** i'm willing to **** someone
on the *****-nilly!

perhaps i never urinated on a homeless man...
i'm pretty sure i spat a wonderus spat...
from 4 stories in a car park...
to get back at the colts who spat at my father
when we visited Chessington
world of "adventure"...

otherwise... i'm so mangled...
i use both the imperial and the metric systems...
e.g.
185°F for an anglaise sauce:
custard... which implies
you don't heat the eggs prior to beating
them with the milk & cream...
sure... gelato is superior in taste to ice-cream...
but gelato isn't equipped for storage...
ice-cream on the other hand is...

165°F for roast chicken: *******....
butterfly... it takes circa under 20 minutes
to roast them perfectly...
i watch Australian Masterchef and hear
of these stories of... recipes passed down...
grandmothers with traditions...
sorry... world war II happened...
herr bite bon-bon came round
as did the soviets... then i left...
oh i do remember my grandmother's cooking...
she managed to roast a chicken to
the point of making the ******* have the texture of...
chalk!

i'm a mangled sort of creature...
i remember all the months of the year in Ing-Leash...
january, febuary, march, april, may, june
july, august, september, october, november... december...
but i can't remember them in my native tongue...
styczeń, luty, marzec, kwiecien, maj...
i forget june... czerwiec... listopad... grudzień...

i'm pretty sure you could usurp some of the diacritical
"constipation"...
akin to Kwiecień....
you could write it so... while decapitating the iota...
i.e. Kwiećιeń: kwit... cień...
a blooming of a shadow...
flower... kwiat... cień. vs. ćιeń: shadow...

the month of the blooming of shadows...
there are hardly any surds in western Slavic...
let me reiterate... there are no surds
like there are surds in Ing-Leash...
gnome whereby... the apostrophe ought to be
better employed!
'nome for gnome... it's not even that
"too" many words in Ing-Leash
sound the same but are spelled differently...

ich bsitzen die nacht!
as much as i abhor the Hindu percusion
of reincarnation:
come again? there are only a fixed number
of original souls in this project...
the rest are...sleeping souls...
let be abuse that a little...
if there's any genuine reincarnation...
to have taken place...
then i am... Konrad van Wallenrode...
hey presto!
there are only  a limited amount of souls
to b shared the reincarnated... humanoids...
the rest are... ******* zombies?!
o.k. fair enough... Hindu glue...
gi ahead... the rest are zombies...
******* curry retards...
          sure... i'm also a reincasrnation...
i'm a reincarnation of Konrad von Wallenrode,
how's that?!

i'm 6ft2 not 189cm
98kg not... however much stones and pebbles
that is...
i live among these IngLeash people
i look at the coming children...
two women walking a child buggie
spot me... sweating all over my stomach...
the one walking the buggie probably has a hubby...
trips up into a poker face...
her fwend... looks at me and says... WOW...
the **** is this current *******: "wow"?!
i own a bicycle i don't own a car...
i wish i owned a horse?!

i like exercise more than ****** because...
i get to exercise more than i get to ******?!
perhaps i ****** in a way that makes me scout
for pornographic actresses that
like to **** it off while looking into the
"Dajjal"...
                i like those.... there's a lyric about them:
i can **** it smile...
democracy: knock knock...

personally... it sounds like a terrible idea
to have children...
as much as i'd love to...
no... not really... not from what's coming from
the pop culture narrative...
personally... i wouldn't want to... my genes...
m'ah...  put through...
the currency of the current *******...
    i don't... want... to... put... my genes...
through... the argumentations of...
IDIOTS!
to reproduce in order to diminish IQ?!
*******! i'm out!
i'm done... forget this *******!
idiots & their ruling class!

i'm happy to leave this earth to the copper skinned
and the African blessed...
look ast me... there will always be people
readily to come...
i have to make an impetus usually associated
with the argument that claims:
it claims! i must! i must!
no... thankfully i don't!
i have to celebrate individualism...
don't i?!

i have lost what Darwinism was originally
supposed to arm me with...
that's what happens...
societies that propaganda Darwinism to
such an extent as it must be sold...
how is Darwinism equivalent to
the Copernican... blah...
      i don't even think it's project vanity
to flee into... as counter... argument...

from the ancient times: **** similis could
be extracted from **** spiens...
"****": the similitude of ape to man
and vice versa was known to ancient Romans!

nacht(s) ist nicht(s):
gott! mit! uns!
         mien ich! ja: mein kommandant...
alles, dies... braucht zu brennen...
ich liebe du...
       aber... aber...
             ich-du... du-du...
            ich wollen
töten wie du ar lieben!
   i love German...
the worst sort of German i speak... write..
the better it resounds...
it always makes me being clued in...
on the offensive against the Russians!
but i also abhor the Anglicans.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
just your usual broken down
8+ year old modem "haitus"...
and whatever alternative für mich
I could find, let's just say that
spell check and a touch screen
on which baby orangutans could
sprint their little fingers,
doesn't quite match up to
a physical keyboard...
          point being, again a media
frenzy over a broken egg out
of a dozen when making an omelette...
had me thinking...
         how many bad media decisions
were made by women in positions
of authority, in that ungodly month
of *******...
      probably as many as done by
men, doing some sort of "thinking"
while entertaining an ***** *****.
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2020
.this is a very good night for drinking, i can feel it... and i don't want to "think" about why something is right, and not wrong, at a particular moment in time: the sea of time and i, being merely a drop... how did rock evolve? well, it borrowed heavily from jazz... the anti-lyrical principle, matched with equal engagement of all the five instruments... the genius of jazz... it wasn't a thorough Bach polyphony from beginning to end, the genius marker with jazz comes when all the instruments get a chance to solo, break away from the general rhythm section... what rock relearned? the exact point, of the antithesis of lyricism... rhythm became more important, lyrics became too claustrophobic... rarely can you feel & think at the same time, rarely can you make a simultaneous statement, akin to my sleeping karma - satya... that, that **** is rare... the current rock vibe? borrows from jazz and borrows from reggae... imagine if no slave trade took place... if some nigerian didn't find a guitar... or a saxophone... something good, evidently, came out of it... that's hard to admit to, but... without exposing the western africans to european instruments? we'd still be left with songs of clarinets shoved up our ***** playing songs of irritable bowel syndrome... like: playing a clarinet shoved up your ***, pretending to not cackle marrying a crow's croaking... in situ: a lightbulb that served me well, 10+ years... now i'm too lazy to replace it, so i have five candles burning, and i'm sitting in between them, still trying to find the name of the demigod who brought down the rod of zeus from olympus, or the hammer of thor from asgard... since... sure as ****... the light imminent from a candle, is not the sort of light derived from the fifth element that's electricity... ugh... light from electricity... it's so insomniac... no wonder i ventured to call it... Insomnius... the miracle child of Thanatos and Hypnos... the ****** riddled **** affair... who wanted to crawl back to his origin, the womb of Nyx, saying: i want to be born, the proper way, unlike an unwanted **** pulled from either of your son's *****... like a shepherd pie leaving the oven... mind you... all women should be given birth via a caesarean section... i'm pretty sure we can leave the old biblical bias behind... let's have some common sense decency, no woman should be giving birth like a cow or a mule... ***** envy... oh yeah... plenty of that... when the poor ******'s head gets pushed through a ******!


the reason why dialectics died,
is because a mediator
was introduced,
and that one of the dialogue
instigators could not
play a mediator with
a joker hand...
               there's the mising
game of the joker card....
     and people say poetry is
in demise...
       poetry was born from a platonic
dialogue, rather than
an aristotelian monologue;
after all, people these days talk
about an "opinionated" man...
they never dare to mention
the dialectical man...
        everyone is entitled to their opinions,
is pressured to keep them,
like the men entrenched
in the poppy fields of belgium:
one side didn't want to hear
what the other side was talking...
sure: this whole: "but it's my opinion",
so, why not put it against
my want to exercise dialectics?
ultimately a "freedom" of speech
is worth nothing,
      when opinions remain,
akin to shovels and trench digging...

and when h'americans talk about the superficiality
of their culture, deeming 'how are you?'
questions,
   to someone like a supermarket cashier,
as deeply rooted in existential cruxes...
i just want to laugh...
   what's either deep, or superficial
about that sort of question?
   only yesterday the same...
****, that was two days ago...
fay fever...
      she looked bloated and rotten in terms
of being self-contained i.e. content...
that's why i'm so bewildered about
how h'americans see themselves,
and, notably, how their cultural norm
export is appropriated and made
the new norm, esp. in england...
me? i was being superficial asking
a "deep existential" question
of a supermarket cashier as to how
she was?
   two days ago she looked life ****
because of her hay fever,
today, i told her: you look, radiant...
that the thing, i'll respect any
occupation, but it's about time i receive
some of that respect back...
i even told my father:
  you know the happiest summer
of my life?
   it was working with you,
on the scottish widows h.q. building
near st. paul's...
          this? this is nothing...
but i don't think that owning a chemistry
degree would translate into
an ambition of working in a supermarket...
so then she told me,
  she figured out a way to get to know
this guy who owns two ambulances
just up the road...
   she wants to quit this supermarket
job, and learn to become a paramedic...
she'll go to university
and on the side, get free training
from the guy who lives up
the road and owns two ambulances...
and that's when it dawned on me...
however many times i walked
past that house,
  i thought there was a sick child
stashed in there...
   something akin to Sophia Weaver,
with rett syndrome...
  sorry, god or no god,
  pro life or pro choice...
        does anyone need to see
any more horror movies?
        i'm not even going to troll joke or
whatever...
                 what does pin-head
say in the end?
   welcome, to, your, worst, nightmare...
re-ah-lí-tȳ.
               mind you,
i once had a vision...
          of someone... who had their lips
cut-off...
and were persistently... "grinning"...
          i called this person:
                          todlächelnkopf...
death-smile-h­ead...
                           i'm still not laughing...
but... i managed to find out
what a selfless person looks like,
a supermarket cashier,
who wants to become a paramedic...
  i still don't know what the h'americans
are talking about,
when they equate: how are you doing(?)
to be, some, "grand" existential question...
perhaps h'american society is
superficial... while english society
is only "superficial" in it also being polite?
sure, faking politeness...
that's pretty "bad"...
           but there comes a problem,
when you get caught...
faking superficiality...
       for the per se sake of superficiality
per se...
                        h'americans are weird,
weirded than the english...
    "personal space"...   talking to strangers...
whatever the **** comes out
from these morphed former englishmen...
don't get me wrong: great music...
great culture...
                 but social norms
bound to something akin to a down syndrome
orangutan... funny enough...
don't orangutans resemble down syndrome
peeps?
             i mean the resembling factors
are, either funny, or frightening.
well...
   i was just talking to a cashier...
i told her she looked radiant...
            and then she opened up and told me
her ambitions...
like my english teacher said...
who gives a **** whether the whole:
an apple a day...                   keeps the doctor away...
thomas, you're a legend...
                 one, just one compliment...
and... you'll see a second sunrise in
a person's eye, even if it's turning 10pm.

p.s. it's not like mona lisa was ever smiling,
to me? if she's not showing her
teeth, and her mouth isn't agape,
she's merely, smirking...
can't exactly call it a smile,
when her chee-bones aren't raised;
crafting the doughnut full-moons
and squirming eyes.

— The End —