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Martin Narrod Dec 2014
Martin's New Words 3:1:13

Thursday, April 10th, 2014

assay - noun. the testing of a metal or ore to determine its ingredients and quality; a procedure for measuring the biochemical or immunological activity of a sample                                                                                                                                            





February 14th-16th, Valentine's Day, 2014

nonpareil - adjective. having no match or equal; unrivaled; 1. noun. an unrivaled or matchless person or thing 2. noun. a flat round candy made of chocolate covered with white sugar sprinkles. 3. noun. Printing. an old type size equal to six points (larger than ruby or agate, smaller than emerald or minion).

ants - noun. emmet; archaic. pismire.

amercement - noun. Historical. English Law. a fine

lutetium - noun. the chemical element of atomic number 71, a rare, silvery-white metal of the lanthanide series. (Symbol: Lu)

couverture -

ort -

lamington -

pinole -

racahout -

saint-john's-bread -

makings -

millettia -

noisette -

veddoid -

algarroba -

coelogyne -

tamarind -

corsned -

sippet -

sucket -

estaminet -

zarf -

javanese -

caff -

dragee -

sugarplum -

upas -

brittle - adjective. hard but liable to break or shatter easily; noun. a candy made from nuts and set melted sugar.

comfit - noun. dated. a candy consisting of a nut, seed, or other center coated in sugar

fondant -

gumdrop - noun. a firm, jellylike, translucent candy made with gelatin or gum arabic

criollo - a person from Spanish South or Central America, esp. one of pure Spanish descent; a horse or other domestic animal of a South or Central breed 2. (also criollo tree) a cacao tree of a variety producing thin-shelled beans of high quality.

silex -

ricebird -

trinil man -

mustard plaster -

horehound - noun. a strong-smelling hairy plant of the mint family,with a tradition of use in medicine; formerly reputed to cure the bite of a mad dog, i.e. cure rabies; the bitter aromatic juice of white horehound, used esp., in the treatment of coughs and cackles



Christmas Week Words Dec. 24, Christmas Eve

gorse - noun. a yellow-flowered shrub of the pea family, the leaves of which are modified to form spines, native to western Europe and North Africa

pink cistus - noun. Botany. Cistus (from the Greek "Kistos") is a genus of flowering plants in the rockrose family Cistaceae, containing about 20 species. They are perennial shrubs found on dry or rocky soils throughout the Mediterranean region, from Morocco and Portugal through to the Middle East, and also on the Canary Islands. The leaves are evergreen, opposite, simple, usually slightly rough-surfaced, 2-8cm long; in a few species (notably C. ladanifer), the leaves are coated with a highly aromatic resin called labdanum. They have showy 5-petaled flowers ranging from white to purple and dark pink, in a few species with a conspicuous dark red spot at the base of each petal, and together with its many hybrids and cultivars is commonly encountered as a garden flower. In popular medicine, infusions of cistuses are used to treat diarrhea.

labdanum - noun. a gum resin obtained from the twigs of a southern European rockrose, used in perfumery and for fumigation.

laudanum - noun. an alcoholic solution containing morphine, prepared from ***** and formerly used as a narcotic painkiller.

manger - noun. a long open box or trough for horses or cattle to eat from.

blue pimpernel - noun. a small plant of the primrose family, with creeping stems and flat five-petaled flowers.

broom - noun. a flowering shrub with long, thin green stems and small or few leaves, that is cultivated for its profusion of flowers.

blue lupine - noun. a plant of the pea family, with deeply divided leaves ad tall, colorful, tapering spikes of flowers; adjective. of, like, or relating to a wolf or wolves

bee-orchis - noun. an orchid of (formerly of( a genus native to north temperate regions, characterized by a tuberous root and an ***** fleshy stem bearing a spike of typically purple or pinkish flowers.

campo santo - translation. cemetery in Italian and Spanish

runnel - noun. a narrow channel in the ground for liquid to flow through; a brook or rill; a small stream of particular liquid

arroyos - noun. a steep-sided gully cut by running water in an arid or semi-arid region.


January 14th, 2014

spline - noun. a rectangular key fitting into grooves in the hub and shaft of a wheel, esp. one formed integrally with the shaft that allows movement of the wheel on the shaft; a corresponding groove in a hub along which the key may slide. 2. a slat; a flexible wood or rubber strip used, esp. in drawing large curves. 3. (also spline curve) Mathematics. a continuous curve constructed so as to pass through a given set of points and have a certain number of continuous derivatives.

4. verb. secure (a part) by means of a spine

reticulate - verb. rare. divide or mark (something) in such a way as to resemble a net or network

November 20, 2013

flout - verb. openly disregard (a rule, law, or convention); intrans. archaic. mock; scoff ORIGIN: mid 16th cent.: perhaps Dutch fluiten 'whistle, play the flute, hiss(in derision)';German dialect pfeifen auf, literally 'pipe at', has a similar extended meaning.

pedimented - noun. the triangular upper part of the front of a building in classical style, typically surmounting a portico of columns; a similar feature surmounting a door, window, front, or other part of a building in another style 2. Geology. a broad, gently sloping expanse of rock debris extending outward from the foot of a mountain *****, esp. in a desert.

portico - noun. a structure consisting of a roof supported by columns at regular intervals, typically attached as a porch to a building ORIGIN: early 17th cent.: from Italian, from Latin porticus 'porch.'

catafalque - noun. a decorated wooden framework supporting the coffin of a distinguished person during a funeral or while lying in state.

cortege - noun. a solemn procession esp. for a funeral

pall - noun. a cloth spread over a coffin, hearse, or tomb; figurative. a dark cloud or covering of smoke, dust, or similar matter; figurative. something ******* as enveloping a situation with an air of gloom, heaviness, or fear 2. an ecclesiastical pallium; heraldry. a Y-shape charge representing the front of an ecclesiastical pallium. ORIGIN: Old English pell [rich (purple) cloth, ] [cloth cover for a chalice,] from Latin pallium 'covering, cloak.'

3. verb. [intrans.] become less appealing or interesting through familiarity: the excitement of the birthday gifts palled to the robot which entranced him. ORIGIN: late Middle English; shortening of APPALL

columbarium - noun. (pl. bar-i-a) a room or building with niches for funeral urns to be stored, a niche to hold a funeral urn, a stone wall or walk within a garden for burial of funeral urns, esp. attached to a church. ORIGIN: mid 18th cent.: from Latin, literally 'pigeon house.'

balefire - noun. a lare open-air fire; a bonfire.

eloge - noun. a panegyrical funeral oration.

panegyrical - noun. a public speech or published text in praise of someone or something

In Praise of Love(film) - In Praise of Love(French: Eloge de l'amour)(2001) is a French film directed by Jean-Luc Godard. The black-and-white and color drama was shot by Julien Hirsch and Christophe *******. Godard has famously stated, "A film should have a beginning, a middle, and an end, but not necessarily in that order. This aphorism is illustrated by In Praise of Love.

aphorism - noun. a pithy observation that contains a general truth, such as, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it."; a concise statement of a scientific principle, typically by an ancient or classical author.

elogium - noun. a short saying, an inscription. The praise bestowed on a person or thing; a eulogy

epicede - noun. dirge elegy; sorrow or care. A funeral song or discourse, an elegy.

exequy - noun. plural ex-e-quies. usually, exequies. Funeral rites or ceremonies; obsequies. 2. a funeral procession.

loge - noun. (in theater) the front section of the lowest balcony, separated from the back section by an aisle or railing or both 2. a box in a theater or opera house 3. any small enclosure; booth. 4. (in France) a cubicle for the confinement of art  students during important examinations

obit - noun. informal. an obituary 2. the date of a person's death 3. Obsolete. a Requiem Mass

obsequy - noun. plural ob-se-quies. a funeral rite or ceremony.

arval - noun. A funeral feast ORIGIN: W. arwy funeral; ar over + wylo, 'to weep' or cf. arf["o]; Icelandic arfr: inheritance + Sw. ["o]i ale. Cf. Bridal.

knell - noun. the sound made by a bell rung slowly, especially fora death or a funeral 2. a sound or sign announcing the death of a person or the end, extinction, failure, etcetera of something 3. any mournful sound 4. verb. (used without object). to sound, as a bell, especially a funeral bell 5. verb. to give forth a mournful, ominous, or warning sound.

bier - noun. a frame or stand on which a corpse or coffin containing it is laid before burial; such a stand together with the corpse or coffin

coronach - noun. (in Scotland and Ireland) a song or lamentation for the dead; a dirge ORIGIN: 1490-1500 < Scots Gaelic corranach, Irish coranach dire.

epicedium - noun. plural epicedia. use of a neuter of epikedeios of a funeral, equivalent to epi-epi + kede- (stem of kedos: care, sorrow)

funerate - verb. to bury with funeral rites

inhumation - verb(used with an object). to bury

nenia - noun. a funeral song; an elegy

pibroch - noun. (in the Scottish Highlands) a piece of music for the bagpipe, consisting of a series of variations on a basic theme, usually martial in character, but sometimes used as a dirge

pollinctor - noun. one who prepared corpses for the funeral

saulie - noun. a hired mourner at a funeral

thanatousia - noun. funeral rites

ullagone - noun. a cry of lamentation; funeral lament. also, a cry of sorrow ORIGIN: Irish-Gaelic

ulmaceous - of or like elms

uloid - noun. a scar

flagon - noun. a large bottle for drinks such as wine or cide

ullage - noun. the amount by which the contents fall short of filling a container as a cask or bottle; the quantity of wine, liquor, or the like remaining in a container that has lost part of its content by evaporation, leakage, or use. 3. Rocketry. the volume of a loaded tank of liquid propellant in excess of the volume of the propellant; the space provided for thermal expansion of the propellant and the accumulation of gases evolved from it

suttee - (also, sati) noun. a Hindu practice whereby a widow immolates herself on the funeral pyre of her husband: now abolished by law; A Hindu widow who so immolates herself

myriologue - noun. the goddess of fate or death. An extemporaneous funeral song, composed and sung by a woman on the death of a friend.

threnody - noun. a poem, speech, or song of lamentation, especially for the dead; dirge; funeral song

charing cross - noun. a square and district in central London, England: major railroad terminals.

feretory - noun. a container for the relics of a saint; reliquary. 2. an enclosure or area within a church where such a reliquary is kept 3. a portable bier or shrine

bossuet - noun. Jacques Benigne. (b. 1627-1704) French bishop, writer, and orator.

wyla -

rostrum -

aaron's rod -

common mullein -

verbascum thapsus -

peignoir -

pledget -

vestiary -

bushhamer -

beneficiation -

keeve -

frisure -

castigation -

slaw -

strickle -

vestry -

iodoform -

moslings -

bedizenment -

pomatum -

velure -

apodyterium -

macasser oil -

equipage -

tendance -

bierbalk -

joss paper -

lichgate -

parentation -

prink -

bedizen -

allogamy -

matin -

dizen -

disappendency -

photonosus -

spanopnoea -

abulia -

sequela -

lagophthalmos -

cataplexy -

xerasia -

anophelosis -

chloralism -

chyluria -

infarct -

tubercle -

pyuria -

dyscrasia -

ochlesis -

cachexy -

abulic -

sthenic - adjective. dated Medicine. of or having a high or excessive level of strength and energy

pinafore -

toff -

swain -

bucentaur -

coxcomb -

fakir -

hominid -

mollycoddle -

subarrhation -

surtout -

milksop -

tommyrot -

ginglymodi -

harlequinade -

jackpudding -

pickle-herring -

japer -

golyardeys -

scaramouch -

pantaloon -

tammuz -

cuckold -

nabob -

gaffer -

grass widower -

stultify -

stultiloquence -

batrachomyomachia -

exsufflicate -

dotterel -

fadaise -

blatherskite -

footling -

dingmat -

shlemiel -

simper -

anserine -

flibbertgibbet -

desipient -

nugify -

spooney -

inaniloquent -

liripoop -

******* -

seelily -

stulty -

taradiddle -

thimblewit -

tosh -

gobemouche -

hebephrenia -

cockamamie -

birdbrained -

featherbrained -

wiseacre -

lampoon -

Guy Fawke's night -

maclean -

vang -

wisenheimer -

herod -

vertiginous -

raillery -

galoot -

camus -

gormless -

dullard -

funicular -

duffer -

laputan -

fribble -

dolt -

nelipot -

discalced -

footslog -

squelch -

coggle -

peregrinate -

pergola -

gressible -

superfecundation -

mufti -

reveille -

dimdl -

peplum -

phylactery -

moonflower -

bibliopegy -

festinate -

doytin -

****** -

red trillium -

reveille - noun. [in sing. ] a signal sounded esp. on a bugle or drum to wake personnel in the armed forces.

trillium - noun. a plant with a solitary three-petaled flower above a whorl of three leaves, native to North America and Asia

contrail - noun. a trail of condensed water from an aircraft or rocket at high altitude, seen as a white streak against the sky. ORIGIN: 1940s: abbreviation of condensation trail. Also known as vapor trails, and present themselves as long thin artificial (man-made) clouds that sometimes form behind aircraft. Their formation is most often triggered by the water vapor in the exhaust of aircraft engines, but can also be triggered by the changes in air pressure in wingtip vortices or in the air over the entire wing surface. Like all clouds, contrails are made of water, in the form of a suspension of billions of liquid droplets or ice crystals. Depending on the temperature and humidity at the altitude the contrail forms, they may be visible for only a few seconds or minutes, or may persist for hours and spread to be several miles wide. The resulting cloud forms may resemble cirrus, cirrocumulus, or cirrostratus. Persistent spreading contrails are thought to have a significant effect on global climate.

psychopannychism -

restoril -

temazepam -

catafalque -

obit -

pollinctor -

ullagone -

thanatousia -

buckram -

tatterdemalion - noun. a person in tattered clothing; a shabby person. 2. adjective. ragged; unkempt or dilapidated

curtal - adjective. archaic. shortened, abridged, or curtailed; noun. historical. a dulcian or bassoon of the late 16th to early 18th century.

dulcian - noun. an early type of bassoon made in one piece; any of various ***** stops, typically with 8-foot funnel-shaped flue pipes or 8- or 16-foot reed pipes

withe - noun. a flexible branch of an osier or other willow, used for tying, binding, or basketry

osier - noun. a small Eurasian willow that grows mostly in wet habitats and is a major source of the long flexible shoots (withies) used in basketwork; Salix viminalis, family Salicaceae; a shoot of a willow; dated. any willow tree 2. noun. any of several North American dogwoods.

directoire - adjective. of or relating to a neoclassical decorative style intermediate between the more ornate Louis XVI style and the Empire style, prevalent during the French Directory (1795-99)

guimpe -

ip
dictionary wordlist list lists word words definition definitions wordplay play fun game paragraph language english chicago loveofwords languagelove love beauty peace yew mew sheep colors curiosity logolepsy
vircapio gale Jun 2012
love-energy swinging toward bitter blows:
a father’s pride becomes a son’s,
he becoming bitter becoming hatred
in the midst of love abused,
a civil fight for freedom failing in the eyes of youth:
these minds of ours turn wildly—
change to the beat of unknown drums
and death knocks us up
pregnant with a new generation of hate,
of goals to love: the obliteration of hate’s mother,
but question on, worship your mind,
build a shrine of doubt and find
darkness emerging as a deeper shade of black
knowledge? knowledge?
myths laid upon us through the perspectival dimming of language
no one’s fault? societal pressures
no cause for blame? survival instincts
no source of evil? history has a gun to their head. . . .
no use for these words? meaningless.
dialogue, yes, for the birds,
the carrion of hope
once the breeding stops
and lets the precious journey start:
down the cesspool of quasi-oblivion,
where we’re all a minority of one,
grasping for meaning in an abyssm of phantasmal foundations.
words, words, the excuse of words;
when father’s left no ground to walk on,
the son sits there digging
ditches for the death of systems
holes in the fabric mother wore,
tears in the existence we thought we knew.

what is this about? question marks
swerving away from sour truth
bleeds the nonsense through the flesh of what we love
and dying, dying, hate becomes a source of love,
guilt projects a softened heart
kneeling down now
outside, but wanting in.
affirmed, dejected.

[OR
are they swerving away from faith
simply a defense against the actions to take
ontic procratstinator! hear me now!
safety is the goal behind every measure
seek danger and you run the dangers of comfort,
seek comfort, and delusion becomes your handmaid.]

for knowledge of past dogma is dogma too
and the heart pumps it anyway;
for existence is. O heart, your sutra
flows nimbly on into eternity,
but you take this life and live it now,
the rhythm born of a mystery,
sacred to the foolish,
sarkin to the wise—
and the dancing wise man
birthing a new enigma
travels on into the depths of the ordinary
with a smile and a bow,
a hop-skip like Nietzschean
melodrama.

I can write it once for fun,
twice for accuracy,
thrice for fame and ten more for shame.
Do you want to know what it’s about
or do you want to figure it out?
the game of pride makes fresh
the fish of mental seas;
but truth is less cozy;
dagger in your existential eye.

no conclusions to be embraced without the whim of faith?
no art show game gripe to win but for the game of taste?

this bout goes on, this Bout goes on! oh how I wish my mind was lacking!
but no! the sacrifice, but the sacrifice,
pigs of Aristotle knew no quarrell,
no such quarrell.

when does such a poem become a forced effort?  when will I stop questioning myself?
where is this urge to destroy originate?
what ******* language am I speaking in when I think?
what and why,
who the but questions, questions
falling spiking holes in teh floor of contentment
or is it laziness: should I tak emy e pick now or wa itf ort he rig htto **** newith mystic alllllllllllll certainty from be yo ndt he fen ceof lan gua ge.

why go back? why try?
the difference between communication and self-indulgent writing is the effort to conform to the extent necessary for the sharingof truth... and so nobility demands conformity, however long it takes and however wonderful it may be in the mean time to simply spill my fingers across the trypesu ritre lia shjkk e a A b B i IG load o f ***... as if the hiddenness of deconstucted language masked my immaturity as a poet, as a person, as a thinker, as a wallower in shame.  as a Man. as a *** machine. as a weak creature. as a creature of potentially great accomplishments but small ***** at the present, as a person hiding from the said for fear of having to live up to it, as one who doesn’t believe his words half the time, even noe, ever noer rht all suiooos  dhjhjh tuof rhty w arbif trya dfyoudng huddkkfkd fmdmf dfdlililhkjga wyeruipok smmm tuhtuth dgfhg dagdh f dhajkdf  fuduudjjd fh d hdhhd bit b not n tno totot t ototot  read read read read read read read read read reda dnrenadkf leadsd fhdus duig hgjhdf dh sdmf sialdihf duf dreioan ign udfin the dh diguicse of hjtkjh heioa never heros heilike hte  e9a 1 1 ih kj n h ogma doifj hedOLvever otitoto the  ososososririrroow ww dance waiting at the librasyer renckjh c concon con iejr a  goodo excucse to t constraint no nt rot th even dfhight hwith th d dear on the all ndklfn eh fh searching thioart worthless buthen I find htheihadf htis hivoih Valid dfkdljhf jhkajh yea it s i kjh Lavlls ishn Vadildld meaning ngon woven into nonesense nd fnidoijifj bJar in Tennessiossdnohf  a freww few deletes and the important words become clear however taxing on an hypothetical reader from the future in which I do hope to become g”reat” half-heartily,  though for show.  .  .and the experience of writing is revealed through the laziness, or tiredness, of a recent graduate trying to write something meaningful after a summer of passion and *** and drugs and resentment toward the family and the sad economic advice given him.
katewinslet Sep 2015
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Ken Pepiton Dec 2021
I heard and thought i saw use of little i
as real a right as any ever,
mess mass after all
Cheeriest, seen icy and cold cold cold
Scenic went on, ah, sin qua non, ai is
mechanical- sylabbic it can fail
to comprehend the sense
said so eloquent, ly lyl
ly
"The resulting cloud
is probably still up there
— more proof that it pays
to shoot for the stars"
https://hellopoetry.com/JohnnyPanic/
From <https://hellopoetry.com/>
- time immeasurable now
- and more
- again

Peter Thiel, I hear
speak from a height so lofty,
he may as well be royalty,
as earlier investor in
now, now being after the investment
in the past, a bet
on better later
if
if
ever can occur in time to soothe
the troubled soul of man,
gardener, and user of the source of life,
earth,
as we know it, the place in ever
where we are free to live as parts,
involutionally evolved beings

--- e-vol
- time immeasurable now


vivia covideonic

Nonsense speech

t
was called gobbeldy ****, as far as I knew

et
lies were, simple *******.

A day when
lone is the state, no, not alone

lone
state, l'one, I, me the one
been in ever since,

Me, the wannabe
loved for being
a lone example
st…ranger
lost in wishes and prayers
for strength to
believe being me was ever
worth
the effort

To effectually think fervently, this

Future from then
is now, you know, the at home viewers,
all nested in us-ity, we
the attenders to the feed, enter-tain mental
if-ity, we dom
dominating the ratings, everybody who counts

counts social normality as that which we lost,
when we lost
the thread that stitched the neighborhood, in town,
as all out near farmers, gathered to work
dawn to dusk, with seasonal adjustments

to use the sun, more efficiently, lightenment wise.

- time immeasurable now

Right. Say we agree,
right may be, elementally,
first thing I could do to fix
a piece of reality,
the matter bits, no the mater
bits, see, the t, does alter sense
we see or take as a handle, a little
hand, reaching toward me, to get
hold
grasp the point, and feel the point

knowing pain in time. lost, time,
shifting
back to prayer, yes ever per
happy-worth of knowing I have

a deal, only lieve being true, this
word
with which all we think we share
timespace, whole go play,
go, play, use the e availed of, up
re tire to the source of e, the e
in mcsquared away all we know
or need to know, about the matter
we were formed from,
curiously.

Say, or imagine, make a mental scene\

time immeasurable now

knlynptn'tis a name, a named thing,
Any named thing is a thing

scenes seen at timespace points past
hence
then
when that famous painter, whose
work is praised, while
many paint better, but few paint more
and I wonder
at the power, once, not so distant

whenwhere we


hey, I may argue
time immeasurable now
with an expert, in all sorts of stories
studied, but
I feel he never lived as one who lives
by cotton being cultivated,
to clothe the naked in warm places,
as is
imperial edict, no naked people,
but of the very lowest caste,
those who clean the grease traps, and
haul away the grease, to sell
to the chemist, who hires

karmic richmen to sift his ashes
time immeasurable now

Fifty false starts, years,
celebrated as new years about
to begin,
when
some knowing finds me seeking
answers, any
answer
sworn to match the oath
on me,
I must never forswear the oath,

ah, and what
if I did? Is the danger I might be killed
for swearing to believe,
an unbelievable arrangement of duty
ever
servant class, never higher class but

as we know
among the hens, there is an order,
and only one **** rules the walk
beyond the cage,
where eggs are laid, but what
do we know
nobody in here, but us chickens.

we weeders of the hardest rows, volunteers
by god, you best be

thinkin' like a freeman, if you everwas one,

beguiled by the shining thing
urging merging, with a passion

new,
some way,
she sees me now,
is new, she sees the
reason, for the ban on knowing
this sooner
than now.

this is how, we prosper, knowing
I am bare, and made,
for the warmer climates,
let's go back
south.

Just about then there was a star,
it felt new, there, see, watch
to the next
night, as the world turns, watch, see
there, that is what I once saw and learned
killed almost all life above chthonic subsapient.

Comet, some times they are pulled apart
so they leave a trail of craters someday
ai will notice, then,
there were survivors, sapient sapient, mortal
survivors who were south of
that snow ball,
from dreamtime
to time of internet usurped for peace of mind,
easy, easy, rest and learn a new thing

that is a ***** snowball remnant of
some several years at light speed,
often days, at attention taking thought speed,
instant
we discover our system of so rare a set of random
chances working together, not to gether
yes
to gather the stuff, to make what we see,
that took some imagination,

who would imagine salt? Or, me, or any thought

ort-sphere sized bubble planetesimal clumps
of
what ever mustablown to bits, that hit
gravitational equilubrium
ha, yes, if we may stretch the wonder there

the ort-sphere in outer darkness, accessible
at thought sped gravi-totality wave,

you got it. feel the shiver, now
call bs on the butterfly hurricanes, ok.

You are the smallest differ'nce maker, to me.

I thought of my wife, but
she is not my muse.
I thought of you, and you know
you are not my muse.
Who?
Whist-le
Use of the musical muscle, leaves me
aching to be rich,
and anonymous, in i-postilion to plain anonymous/

left hand, anonymous ruler of the letters used
most often to re-call forces, at the glance
a fit finger left-handed forces, may useful to right
read
the things the left brain, wishes to hold,
so laced up
so pro, onward on track in groove rifling winds
and polished lands, on  down range, aims
have changed, some notice now, that wisdom has
changed the worth of certain seeds sown
for profit, whither rains fell mainly,
as in Kansas or Serengeti,
or the steppes and pampas
grassy deserts- dust bowls, watered in circles
so, so, subtle, far, far more so
than any beast, eh, sub-sapient thing, used to till
the dust and rock,
grinding great icy teeth, over half a planet at once,

time and again, the chance of a hit,
happened as if the shell of outer Ice
is there

to make the air on the bit of ever we live on
breathable, by the time, the mitochondrial virus
finds an amoebias trip spring green twig

aha, are we breathing now? Can we lower O abit

OK, FIX IT TO CARBON, DOES THAT WORK?

no, shouting, we don't know, but we do know,
we shall know, does this work.
by way pre-Jur-an-assic time. Way pre oath
.
In the future, for, as you are aware, you do live
and read and have your being, long after
the final qwerty stroke, seals the yoke,
and the ox begins to walk,
bound to the thread, thought
linking all that is to all that ever is
round and round a mill stone spindle,
waste not, the labor
of laxity, seen as best, for me
who wishes this rope to finish winding
so I my pull
with all my might
twisting the spring, for another shot.

Up river, without a paddle,
this is how we fish for men, in the Stix.

Row row row, no no no
now we run a vintage superseahorse johnson

and go where few, prior to drones

and job experience that leaves a clear impression
of pre-monetization revelation being
need-to-know
secret
ah
hidden from…{wondering softly} who do you hmmm
whom to squeeze for more creative
try
umphshitoops.

so coming out of stealth mode, moments prior
to the closing bell on April 4, 2001,

when the call for Jewish Lightning rose from the
ashes of the Hud loans pre-savings and loan
dive in '85.

Does this corelate with the color of prisons, inside?
We could repaint.

-- and that much time, once more

Auture autisto o artisto did you think, ai, art
I
was autistic, but Newton, and certainly
Cavendish, were not? I may not say
but
what
were such odd ducks as we find leading to now,
a mansion made for me,
the well spring hot and cold in six rooms in my home
and four fonts with flexible courses,
water as needed, science detected dryness, which no
King ever imagined in his wildest bouts of now what
post puberty in a time when his teen boy word
was law,
imagine, prince charming, becoming Archie Bunker
after all
and you looked the other way,

there were fools planning bombs, yes, I know,

I did
have the experience, on occasion,
to blow a rock that may hold minable titanium
to dust. And, once
to watch an ARVN, fishing in a peasants pond,
for a laugh,
with frag grenades. yes.

I saw. As my dopefiend buddy descrived the night
VC frogmen blew the bridge

bv be very
sure, before I am lying and not, merely
prospering in purgatory,
purging stories I may have told, but offered up

do you know, the idea, sacred? can we make some,
out of respect,
for the dead you know, I know, I know, you always

and so, on we went, intent on touching some thread
of might have been that went
elsewhere, when you did not
read this far.

But this happened, and that did not.
Sacrifice, mortals never know the worth in reality.
I guessed.
I guessed you might, know.
brandon nagley Sep 2015
i.

South eastern
Asian otherworldly;
Design, of antediluvian time
Twas, i was inborn in the poetry of thy mind.

ii.

Aloft on the high's
Sith the beginning long ago;
The origin never started
Twas already eternal.

iii.

Preordainment was conceived
For me and thou;
We kneweth eachother in the butterfly nebula
What a breathtaking light show.

iv.

I promised thou then
That I wouldst never leaveth;
Mine queen, thou art the only one, earl Jane nagley
Please alway's knoweth that, and believeth.



©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedication/Filipino rose
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Sith means since old English terms....
JoJo Nguyen Feb 2013
A stapel river flows in Hyena
pack,
rivulets of laughing
data.

Twist a turn to deconvolute destituted
band.

From arterial ort to capillary
place
respires a quantal
love.

Quid non quo
flows,
trickling down in plain
flat,
in crevice crag, filling just
enough.

Fresh down to Mexican
border
town, in flooding estuaries, in fanning
delta,
it breezes meta confidence within six
Sigma.
Gold May 2014
Ich habe Fernweh nach dem Ort an dem du gerade bist, und Heimweh nach dem Platz in deinem Herzen.
Ich liebe den Himmel, und ich wünschte ich wäre das Firmament über dir, egal ob hinter Wolken versteckt oder mit den Gestirnen geschmückt, denn dann würde ich dich immer sehen und immer bei dir seien.
Jedoch könnte ich dich nie berühren, von da oben.
Vielleicht wäre es besser, der Boden zu seien. Du legst dich in mein warmes Gras und atmest meinen Duft ein, nach einem Regenschauer, und würdest dabei lächeln. Aber als der Boden, würdest du mich je bemerken? Und wenn ja, würdest du nicht nur auf mich herabsehen?
Das würde ich nicht überleben, wir sind alle aus Sternenstaub, und besonders in der Liebe gleich.
Aber wenn du mir diese drei Worte ins Ohr flüsterst oder sie mir ins Gesicht schreist, dann ist es eh egal. Denn dann steht alles auf dem Kopf, am Himmel ist das Wasser der Meere und ich schwimme durch Wolken. Ich gehe über Federn, und das Federkleid der Vögel besteht aus Gras.
So ist es, zumindest in meinem Kopf, jedes Mal nachdem du mein Herz mit den Schmetterlingen, die du in meinem Bauch ausgesetzt hast, erschütterst hast.
I have a desire to travel to the place where you are right now and homesickness to the place in your heart.
I love the sky, and I wish I were the firmament above you, whether hidden behind clouds or adorned with stars, because then I could always see you and be with you.
However, I could never touch you, from there above.
Maybe it would be better to be the ground. You lay down in my warm grass and breathe in my scent after rain and smile. But as the ground, would you ever recognize me? And if yes, wouldn't you just look down on me?
I wouldn't survive that, we're all made from stardust, and especially equal when in love.
But when you whisper those three words in my ear or scream them in my face, than it doesn't matter anyway. Because then, everything is upside down, the sky is made of the water of the seas and I swim through clouds. I walk over feathers and the feathering of the birds is made of grass.
This is how it is, at least in my head, everytime after you roused my heart with the butterflies you set out in my stomach.
Madness Aug 2014
sehnsucht nach einer person*, würden menschen es in
worte fassen, dessen gebrauch sie gar nicht kennen.
oh nein, ich habe keine sehnsucht nach einer person –
ich habe heimweh. ich habe mich bei ihm – und
zwar egal wo: im bus, oder auch in einen dunkeln
raum, der gähnend leer ist, außer zwei personen
und eine handvoll worte, denen ich mich nicht
entziehen kann – mehr geborgen gefühlt, als
in meinen eigenen heim.

denn zu hause ist kein ort, sondern ein gefühl.
katewinslet Oct 2015
Gesundes Essen ist eine Sache, aber finden und zu halten frische Bio-Olivenöl sowie Essig ist etwas ganz anderes. Verwaltung unserer Gewicht braucht nicht durch weltlichen Ernährungsgewohnheiten durchgeführt werden. Cabl wissen, frische Blattsalate können helfen. And so Essig und Öl baseball hat sich zu einem Grundnahrungsmittel für zahlreiche von uns. Italienisches Essen, Balsamico-Vinaigrette, sowie sogar fabelhafte Brot Eintauchen Rezepten müssen das beste Öl und Essig für guten Geschmack. Thus, nachdem cabl hochwertige Gewürze, wie wir halten sie frisch noch richtig auf der Tabelle dargestellt? Dishing out Essig sowie Öl auf dem Tisch baseball hat on home Jahren mühsam. Etliche verschiedene Arten von crucis haben nur für diese eine Notwendigkeit gemacht. Die richtige Lagerung von Olivenöl ist notwendig, dass cease to live Qualität und der Geschmack uncontaminated zu bleiben sowie die ernährungsphysiologischen Vorteile intakt bleiben. I am Laufe der Jahrhunderte, Öl und Essig crucis wurden aus zahlreichen Materialien hergestellt worden. Cabl wissen jetzt, kick the bucket besten Behälter für pass on Speicherung von Olivenöl sowie Essig sind Glas, Keramik, oder Porzellan. Realmente es ist wichtig zu wissen, Kunststoffbehälter sind nicht fantastic für beiden Würze. Other frischen Geschmack länger zu halten, sollte Olivenöl sowie Essig Shifts a good einem kühlen Ort ohne direkte Sonneneinstrahlung gelagert werden. Das Most effective wäre with einem Glasbehälter ist. Öl oder Essig sollte nicht in einem Kunststoffbehälter gelagert, weil sie das Wooden aus dem Kunststoff absorbiert werden kann. Glas Essig sowie Öl crucis sind außergewöhnliche Geschenkartikel. Sie fungieren wie the best, um ordnungsgemäß zu lagern Ihre Olivenöl sowie Essig, sowie werden immer beliebter. Heute Gourmet-Küchenutensilien sowie Produkte werden nach dem für die-off Praktikabilität und Neuheit gesucht Günstige Samsung Galaxy S5. Ein Gourmet-Geschenk ist when it comes to der Regel einer der Wert und Qualität, wobei diese für depart this life perfekte Geschenkidee wesentlich. Messkännchen bietet mundgeblasenem Glas crucis von Europa, das Glas with Glasbehältern haben. Ein Innengefäß hält bedroom Essig und der äußere Behälter speichert das Olivenöl Samsung galaxy s6 edge+. Jedes Glas Menage head wear zwei Ausgießer auf dems gleichen Öl und Essig Spender. Cease to live mundgeblasene Glasbehälter sind tasteful eingerichtet und bieten ein anspruchsvoller Weg, other Öl sowie Essig auf dem Tisch bieten, aus dems gleichen Dekanter.

The Grapes Cruet, depart this life eine Give durchgebrannt Glas Traube Behälter kennzeichnet, when it comes to einem Glas zylindrischen Körper, ist sehr populär für Gourmet-Küchen. Cease to live Traube cruet etwa dems Durchmesser einer Flasche Wein sowie ist leicht durch einer Give verwendet. Sie werden sie mehr sowie mehr auf feine Esstischen von einigen der besten Gourmetrestaurants Amerikas zu sehen. Essig und Öl throughout der Traube cruet gespeichert sind, wird eine lange Zeit zu halten. Das Olivenöl wird mehr wie ein Jahr, for that reason lange eng anliegende Korken verwendet werden, zu halten. Trying to keep sowohl Essig und Öl luftdicht ist entscheidend für kick the bucket Halte Geschmack. The actual Grape Cruet verfügt über ein beeindruckendes Develop, das vergrößert wird, wenn das Olivenöl i'm Glas gefüllt. Die-off Glaskunst ist geschmackvoll sowie gibt eine elegante Erklärung auf jedem Esstisch. Das perfekte Geschenk für pass away Feiertage, perish Trauben Cruet Eigenschaften: Hitzebeständige technisch europäischen Glas Schön einzigartige mundgeblasene Glas-Design Samsung galaxy s6 edge+ 32GB. Zwei Funktionsgläser when it comes to Glasgefäßen, um Ihren Essig sowie Öl zu trennen. Hergestellt dauerhafte Abgabe Olivenöl und Balsamico-Essig i am Modify zu sein. Hermetic individuelle bartop Korken für beide Ausläufe. europäische Handwerkskunst sowie Qualität.

All the Grape Essig sowie Öl Menage ist eines der innovativsten und funktionsDekanTern werden Sie zum Essen zu finden. Seine bemerkenswerte Entwurf ist sicher, das Auge der alle Ihre Gäste zu fangen, während Sie eine geschmackvolle sowie elegante Erklärung auf Ihrem Esstisch. ein Gourmet-Geschenk-Set, das eine Trauben Menage mit importierten Olivenöl sowie Balsamessig aus Modena ist ein ideales Geschenk für jeden Anlass einschließlich Housewarmings und Feiertage. And also, realmente es ist ein interessantes Gespräch Stück, das zu immer geredet wird.
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katewinslet Sep 2015
Keine Eindeutige Regel may well to your Genaue Anteil der ende Flüssigkeit sowie Mehl, other bei der Brotherstellung verwendet Werden, gegeben Werden, Weil einige arten von Mehl zu absorbieren viel mehr ende Flüssigkeit als weitere. Realmente es wurde jedoch festgestellt that will About three cupfuls Mehl Wird i'm Allgemeinen für JEDE Brotlaibchen notwendig.

Mit on this Bekannt ist, Kann sterben Mehlmenge ium home Betrag von Brot, sterben vorgenommen Werden soll, manages Werden. Pass on Menge der erforderlichen ende Flüssigkeit hangt von der Menge sowie Artwork von Mehl Ausgewählt ist, Aber in der Regel sollte ations ungefähr Ein drittel which means that viel ende Flüssigkeit Wie Mehl sein. Das spezielle Elle Verfahren, das für sterben herstellung von Brot Ausgewählt ist, Wie Später Erläutert Wird, sets Menge der Hefe verwendet Werden sterben. Wenn Ations Nicht erwünscht ist, das Brot anstieg schnell zu Haben, Eine geringe Menge, ETWA Ein Achtel Kuchen Presshefe oder Couple of Esslöffel ende Flüssigkeit Hefe, genügt Für jeden Laib; Jedoch, perfect für schnelle ansteigen gewünscht Wird, Müssen zwei, drei oder vier Douleur and so viel Hefe verwendet Werden, um Eine ausreichende Menge von kohlendioxid around kürzerer Zeit herzustellen. Ations sollte Daran Erinnert Werden in that ,

typically the weitere Hefe verwendet Wird, Desto schneller Wird sterben Notwendige Petrol Erzeugt Werden sowie, Wie gezeigt BEREITS Wurde, ist sterben Bildung von Fuel, das Brot leicht sowie porös macht. NEBEN Mehl, ende Flüssigkeit und Hefe, A Teelöffel Salz, 1 Esslöffel Zucker sowie A single Esslöffel Fett Sind Die Bestandteile inside der Regel Für jeden Laib Brot verwendet. Utensilien for any Brotherstellung Notwendige Ausrüstung .-- Nicht zahlreiche Utensilien for the Brotherstellung erforderlich Wir, Aber sterben, sterben Erforderlich Sindh, Müssen von der Richtigen Kunst, Wenn Die-off Besten Ergebnisse erzielt Werden Sollen. Es umfasst Eine Schüssel und Deckel, Ein Mehl Sieb Messbecher h Der Standard-Größe, Eine für feuchte and also a dog's hair kick the bucket Trockenen Zutaten, Messlöffel, including a Crash, Messer und Spachtel Einer zu messen; a fabulous langstieligen Löffel zum mischen; sowie Backen und Brot, Pfannen. Es sei denn, sterben Tabelle, to make certain that sie als Formplatte verwendet Werden, Wird realmente es notwendig sein, zu der genannten addition Geräte, Eine Formplatte von geeigneter Größe zu schaffen. sterben Rührschüssel Kann Ein irdenes Ein oder Ein Metall sein. Perish Größe der verwendeten Pfannen sowie das Product Günstige Samsung Galaxy S4, aus dems sterben Schalen gemacht Werden sollten Gleichsam sterben aufmerksamkeit. Pass on Laibe Werden gefunden, schneller sowie gründlicher,, ideal Nicht zu groß gemacht Werden gebacken Werden, und Jeder ist throughout Einem separaten Formular gebacken. Pfannen, sterben Eight Zoll lang, Several 1/2 Zoll breit und A variety of Zoll tief Sindh, Sind von Einer praktischen Größe. It is possible to aus Zinn, Eisenblech, Alloy und Einem wärmebeständigen Glas, sterben Einzige voraussetzung ist, Dass alle Any einem Backen Pfannen aus dems Gleichen Werkstoff sein, weil, Wie Wärme dringt schnell einige Materialien als weitere, sterben Zurück Erfolgen Dann mehr einheitlich sein.

Komfortable Ausstattung .-- Während sterben Utensilien during Abb. Step 2 Sind alle sterben tatsächlich bei der herstellung von Brot, Brot Mischer, von Denen Eine Craft ist for Requirements certains Kochens, Teil 2 beschrieben erforderlich Wir Sind, Werden sehr bequem Durch Depart this life Hausfrau, Pass on Grosse Mengen von Brot auf einmal backen Müssen sowie gefunden Werden wer sun hat Nicht viel Zeit, ium zur Arbeit zu widmen. This specific arbeitssparende vorrichtung verwendet Werden Kann und Natürlich Ebenso oft Durch Die-off Hausfrau, sterben Nur eine geringe Menge eines Brot macht verwendet, Wie zum beispiel Zwei bis vier Brote; Jedoch puede ser ist eigentlich nicht von ihr Benötigt Werden Samsung galaxy s6 edge 64GB, wie sie can easily Eine solche Menge leicht und schnell zu Handhaben. Ein Kühler, der Aus einem Rahmen durch Drahtnetz bedeckt sowie von Kurzen Beinen Unterstützt Besteht, is likewise to choose from Eine Bequeme Appliance Samsung galaxy s6 edge+, nr ations als ein guter Ort, Auf dem Brot legte abkühlen dient. WENN EINES about this Geräte Nicht verfügbar ist, Ersetzt Jedoch leicht Durch Strecken Eines Drahtgeflecht Über Einem Holzrahmen Hergestellt Werden.
Keine Eindeutige Regel may well to your Genaue Anteil der ende Flüssigkeit sowie Mehl, other bei der Brotherstellung verwendet Werden, gegeben Werden,
Mark Rubilla May 2010
Other fellows thought thatr this fun,
But if they watch my heart
They will see dismay and discouragement
Im not happy with this
If only I cry and then gone
No, its too hard to say goodbye
Cause I have no ears to hear advice
No heart to feel something
Dont let this situation rule over me
You know my capacity, I cant handle it
Now Im suffering, help me God


Pour out into my whole being
Take this miseries that hinders me
To call Your name and this confusion
That always rely on my feelings
I know that you can calm the raging sea
As You order them to stop
And I know that You can calm mine too


As I go to the altar of my heart
Where You are the core of it
Cleanse this mind, heal it
Renew everything from the inside and out
For I know that this is an ort for you
And Your power was tested and proven
Jann F Oct 2018
Wir finden und verlieren uns im Moment,
Im letzten Atemzug den wir uns gemeinsam teilen
Um uns herum fängt es an zu regnen,
Es scheint, als ob die Welt wüsste wie
es in unserem Inneren aussieht.

Der kurze Augenblick zwischen Sonne und Regen,
Der kurze Moment zwischen Freude und Traurigkeit.
Es kommt und geht, das Glück zwischen zwei Menschen

Was für ein trauriger Moment, du sagtest mir wir sollen uns nichtmehr sehen
Dein letztes Bild verblasst im Tageslicht,
Zeit heilt was sie kann, doch nichts ist für immer
Und man sagt , es wird schon wieder,
Doch nichts wird wie es einst war

Die Einsamkeit von gestern nimmt mich wieder in den Arm,
Fühlt sich an wie jeder Tag,
In Gedanken bei dir, irgendwo anders
An einem Ort wo es egal ist, verloren zu sein

Es wird immer vergehen, und nie so bleiben
kommt mir vor wie damals,
Damals auf dem Balkon also du die Sterne gezählt hast
James Marcro Oct 2013
This moment is here,
this moment is gone
this life is sho...

gone as well,
not time to dwell
on what could of been

the ort of short the
ong of long
no moments for them,

In my moment song.

Goodbye for now,
far well, good ciao

see you soo..
Oh no, not now.

I'll see you in a moment
sometime not here
but far from now.
I loved you at your darkest
You only loved me at my brightest
Your silent tears were an illusion
As you devoured me until depletion
A thousand curses on the hands which broke me
And a thousand curses on the ones which you see
You will never forsake me again.

Bha gaol agam ort aig an àm as dorcha
Cha robh gaol agad orm ach aig an ìre as soilleire
B 'e manadh a bh' anns an deòir sàmbach agad
Fhad 's a bha thu gam ithe gus an robh mi air falbh
Mìle mallachd air na làmhan a bhuail mi
Agus mìle mallachd air na fheadainn a chi thu
Cha trèig thu mi a-chaoidh truilleadh
Butch Decatoria Oct 2021
Leviathan / by: butch decatoria



Linger, loiter longer
Leviathan,
These Lovelorn Lanes Fast
with lustful highs …
Fly
Farther, furthest, way Far away
To Starlight
/sweet nothings,
Interstellar sighs
Of space/ time
Feel the Empty / pain / bleed

Except great expectations’ need
To accept, expecting none
(Yet most believe doing nothing)
It’s Not for reflecting / empathy
To tragedy then forgetfulness,
On purpose, disposable friends distract,
Life’s strange viscosity hopefulness
Motions forward….
Oh monstrosity!

Wishful obsessions, stiff upper lip...
The Silent servants’ musk, mask of milk
White cream silk whips
Aftermath of drunken trippin’
The rush of us who trust, slippin’
On the white,  on the hip
               snow man fall melts, drip dry
The poles and hell rains down from on high,
Hush now, The storm hither comes...
Torrential

The colossus of silence beyond
Jupiter’s red eye, Ort cloud shroud—
The yearnings surpassing blood,
To feed
The human gargantuan greed
The need for love…
Soon On sale, flesh compliant
A Commerce for feelings to
        Galvanize
The Giant
        Drowning in his Whale Songs
moonlighting the deep...

Anglerfish
Amidst the pitch of dark sea
Tocold vastness
Go there
That other ocean
   infinite canvas interstellar interstate
             The Void of space,
Deep Emotions pace
Times asleep & awake
            (elsewhere)
Swim my assuaged dreams,
   All of thee: ye
Makers bright,
                Meteorites brief
flash of freefalling lights
Like my hollow heart’s leap:
           Blind,
           But for a feeling,
The monster that I trust.
In the human ocean of emotions.

Leviathan.
Andrew G Wendell Mar 2014
When you decide to reveal Sanskrit,
here are reflections on what I have writ:
Experience develops a well rounded view
of life and of ways to see things anew;
life is the source of many a poem -
live it so that way you really can show 'em.

Starting a poem doesn't always come easy,
write something smart and not too ******.
Ideas may come quick, sometimes they are tough;
searching for rhymes and the right meter is rough.
The words have to flow in melodious fashion,
and the feeling resound with thunderous passion.

Without these elements, so high is the cost -
confuse your audience, the meaning gets lost!
Consult a thesaurus, dictionary, muse
your public must wear the subject's shoes.
Then in the end, when your last word is writ,
someone will still think your poem is sh...ort a syllable.
a poem born on October 14, 1998 by Andrew G. Wendell
Rev 03-17-13
Jann F Dec 2023
Schnee bedeckt die Baumspitzen
Wir halten uns warm
mit unseren Blicken, Küssen
und den schlechten Witzen

Schnee bedeckt die Felder
Wir stehen wie angewurzelt
umringt von eisiger Kälte,
den Raben und der Stille der Wälder

Schnee bedeckt die Wege
Wir geben uns Halt, Arm in Arm
hören uns zu, jedes Wort, jeder Satz
jede noch so lange Rede
hält uns warm

Schnee bedeckt fast jeden Ort
In uns schmilzt jegliches Eis
jede erdenkliche Schneefläche
ganz plötzlich, direkt, sofort

In uns herrscht kein kalter und bedrückender Winter
In uns herrscht warmer und unbeschwerter Sommer
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
in love with the sign language i taught myself: wave, and then extend your *******... it's called a hang-job in signlanguage; it's like waving a goodbye, with the goodbye being more a ****-off, than a goodbye: god give me better grace, i love the shake of the hand as if jerking off, and subsequently the extended ******* to add the compliment; ****! it almost feels like the welsh V!

i know how it feels being an "illegal" immigrant,
second time round though?
   legal as a kite, or a yellow submarine,
but that's beside the point, as i told my father
today: you've seen the state of english
these days? these acronyms and the middle
class favouritism of emojis?
you've seen it? this is a language?!
these are covert methods to prevent people
from learning computing code!
**** em, someone has to shove em,
kick em up their lazy **** *****!
           work you cunty *** sleazes!
work! what? not congregating on
the monasteries? imagine me as a rabid
dog, owned by henry viii, about to chew
off your leg!
   ****** thinks i'm not "properly" integrated...
so why is it, that i know english language
better than your ****** populace?!
riddle me that, all day, from monday through
to sunday, and the irish bank holiday,
a ****** like me loves a bit of
riverdance on the sly...
       so?
                hello?!
                   so you gonna ******* do it,
or retreat into your lil 'obbit 'ole?
******* *******...
         no wonder the i.r.a. gave up:
who gives a toss about fighting transvestite
***** after 20+ odd years...
even the spies were like: you will not
find me engaging in this sort of *****
for the next 'undred years...
   i'll genuflect st. paddy's shamrock
and call it jewish twice over,
than behave like those, ******* perverts
of the
ęnglischspreschen* -
and that's what you call fishing,
my mired youngling.
i tol my papa: ******* keepin' wit'
the times?!
    look at 'em... ugly 'n' "spontaneous"
like the ******* elephant man...
         ooh: goonah fly an eff off wit a kyt...
like **** you yo will...
     fly me a yorkshire spud 'stead 'irst...
you ******* dartford dodger....
       said the 'ackney lass...
see: i speak more english than the 'acking
english....
     it's about akin to 'eaching poker:
you learn the cockers:
you learn the:
                   two doors down luv,
and if ders no shlang for that 'ort of phrase:
there ****** ought to be, next week:
    ya 'acking cockney 'onker!
now i feel like a right *******...
         or like i really need a propah
jerking off... which is y means that
it can only be
answered in jai jai, or the slip of tongue
on led zeppelin's d'yer mak'er, as
the scots 'aid - druid in make-em mon -
   what's that, maca ******* roons?
       tall order, for slanging off almonds,
****, 'et's toast 'em,
           ******* were never gonna
          learn the ******* bagpipes anyway
just tell 'em to learn the dog whistle,
or the orchestra's triangle.
Ken Pepiton Jul 2021
Had you known, who knows,
according to current time manipulation dramas,
how to make
a device used for aiming a public,
any size…
propagating the faith in-- that character,
drama shapes our social beings, you know,
you know all you know, and the
who are you, to all of you, the devil is real,
Lucifer proves it,
{Ai aight check it} Yah,
gotta match
07%
on YouTube, and who are you reading? random
acts of kindness
deflecting
conflicting kinds of cultural informic acid…
ascend
ants in the family tree?
how old are your mitochondria?

How would an egg tell a tale of parasitic invasion,
that resulted in reality,
as we seem to think this is, reading contrasting
edges of bits enstatiated, dark and light,
- Louise had a piebald poodle named Bit. -btw
Black and white, toy model, noisy
but comforting after the shock therapy in '63
Some
Singer Sewing Stories
from the TVA dam-good reasons.
- leaked into Oakridge,
- you'v been listening,
- to the father of lies…

If you listen too long, eventually you die.
Right. Safe bet.
Where did the you become, this
result of all you knew?
As we see you be,
Informed you, h-ex-ept-t'be-yewas
misinformed,
-cept that, snotspelt gnostic, digitized
info such as this
disinforms that,
we all lie, some times, in error of who
sees what when and in what order
fortuitous use of anointed words,
unspeakable,
we talk that here,
we know all the gnostic snot, muse-like, we
'hold the world on the back of that top turtle.
Slippery,
spelled wrong or right, or improper in text,
of this crystal interconnectifing  iferywas
effectual effing fluid lattice windowed
digertai illuminahtai wit,
pitching infinity beyond
ort clouds of human intentions
blown
to smithereens, those we
sparks,
as the hammer whams the blade, pulled from
the forge, whamms
sizzle set the temper
in this clay, stick the hot blade init,
set - a frame for clay, such as Romans wrote on,
set a base, see, the clay frame,
fits the blade, hilt to tip, but the hiltman
has yet to form the hilt and handle,
and the turban knot
that ties it all, last piece,
the pommel, perhaps this one is
a pomegranate shape, for the legend sake,
let's say…
-- once you have a handle on the knack,
you pull this blade from the stone, the clay, unbaked
becomes, in time, any way, stone;
some day, it shines!
the legend of these blades,
the never edged blades,
set in fine shining clay, true jewler rouge,

one day the hammer that made the blade,
strikes the clay, no
not that way,

some day, a knight called a saint,
shall come in humble submission to the mission in
heirical position, authorized with gold,
to swing a blade, anointed,
called of Peter's Holy See,
don't look
let him try to pull it from the stone,
--------- and the whole crumbled in mythery
No, it was art at work intuiting hear ears
in silence, nada humm
- you sneezed, bless you
and this is the dust

-we were doing inner being never been a hero
therapy,
not all kids have the disney channel, thus
this is not etched in the very characters
you imitate as easily as I
do Simon,
the pi monadic,
scatterbrained whimsy seamer,
seaming in steam,
one thing
to another,
here a stitch, there another, fifty years, and more
we won every war,
we won every war,

we won every war,
that got within a hundred thousand English words of
this action actively involved, literally, actually,
in defining the terms of weaponry allowed,
when war was called to reason… ready
to give an answer for the faith in it,

in the everlasting experiment
becoming
us, then us becoming
something else, too quick to tell,
like something fallen
from the Higgs field, pfft.

Gone.
So... of course, there must be more, for yet, there is war..
Tha 's e seallad air beulaibh orm
Thàinig sin o na h-ainglean
Tha cuibhlichean na h-ùine air stad dhuinn
Mar a ràinig sinn an am seo ann an ùine
Oir mar as fhaisg a tha mi ort
Mar as fhaisg a tha mi air neambh

English:

There is a view in front of me
That came from the angels
The wheels of time have stopped for us
As we approach this moment in time
Because the closer I am to you,
the closer I am to heaven.
Thank you to my muse for the inspiration.
Ey, ich kenn' einen Ort, dort gibt es zwei Schaukeln
und wenn du willst hängen wir Seite an Seite
und wir können so tun, als gäbs nur uns beide
also triff mich um sieben, wenn du dich traust
oder an die Zeit zurückerinnert werden willst,
als dein schlagartiger Rausch
ich war.
tschau
Bidh beatha a leantainn, eadhon às deidh bàs
Dh'ionnsaich thu dhomh sin mar a gabh thu d' anail mu dheireadh
Gus am buail an solas orm, fuirichidh mi ann an spiorad
Oir nad chridhe, fuirichidh mi as fhaisge ort
Nuair a thig an solas sin air an latha mu dheireadh agam
Bidh mi còmhla ruit nuair a bhios mi air falbh.

Life carries on, even after death.
You taught me that as you took your last breath
Until the light takes me, I will remain in spirit
For in your heart, I will remain the nearest.
When that light comes on my last day,
I will be with you as I'm spirited away.
RobbieG Sep 2021
When you try
your best
and it wasn't
good enough
it really *****
Leises Wimmern dringt durch den Nebel, der den Schlaf vom Wach sein trennt.
Das Bewusstsein ist träge und braucht eine Weile,
bis es erkennt,
dieses Stöhnen entrang sich dem eigenen Mund
und tut kund
von dem Schmerz dem unsäglichen,
dem unerträglichen.
Ach warum kann ich nicht
verweilen im Land, das jenseits der Dämmerung liegt,
wo es keine Unbill gibt.
Nur Frieden, Freude, Wohlsein und Wonne
auf einem warmen Stein liegend in der Sonne,
an einem Teich mit plätscherndem Wasserfall
und überall
Blumen mit betörendem Duft.
Der Ruf eines Adlers schallt
hoch in der Luft.
Es quakt ein Frosch,
im Gebüsch raschelt ein Tier.
Warum kann ich nicht einfach bleiben, hier
in meiner Oase, wo man nur Gutes empfindet
und alles Schlechte einfach verschwindet.
Und doch tröstet es mich zu wissen,  dass ich ab und an,
zum Ort meiner Träume zurückkehren kann.
Will the moment comes when we will be together,
arm in arm, embraced as we dance until the morning?

Listening to the songs of the western ocean;
a kiss upon my cheek while on you, my sacred colors adorning.

We embrace and reflect on the first glance of each others' eyes
While the earth below us is illuminated by endless, starry skies.

I never want this moment to end; entwined by land and sea.
I will bless the very day you first glanced at me.

And if the sun fades forever, and our souls become blue,
In this world or in the next, I swear, I will never abandon you.

///

An tig am mionaid nuair a bhios sinn còmhla;
gàirdean air a ghabhail a-steach agus sinn a 'dannsa gu madainn?

Ag èisteachd ri caol a 'chuain an iar;
pòg air mo ghruaidh, fhad 's a tha e ort, mo dhathan naomh a' sgeadachadh.

Bidh sinn a 'gobhail ri agus meòrachadh air a 'chiad sealladh de shùilean a chèile
tha an talamh gu h-ìosal air a shoilleireachadh le speuran gun stad.

Chan eil mi a-riamh ag iarraidh gun tig an ire seo gu crìch, air a cheangle le fearann is muir
Beannaichidh mi an dearbh latha a choimead thu orm an toiseach

Agus ma tha a 'ghrian a' dol fodha gu bràth agus ar n-anaman a' 'fas gorm
Anns an t-saoghal seo no an ath rud, tha mi a 'mionnachadh cha trèig mi thu gu bràth
Butch Decatoria Jul 2020
Beyond the Ort cloud
Awaits interstellar space,
The great dark empty

The vast void between
The Galaxies--dwarf planets;
Life dies to follow.

Time lies beyond us
All we get are quick snapshots
Rings and the Red Eye.

Beyond the Ort cloud
In the deeps 'tween galaxies
Time's great distance sleeps.

Good Night Cassini .
kirk Oct 2023
Would you tell me something, please don't keep me in suspense
I don't mean any upset, or make anyone feel tense
Usually I'm not bothered, I'll stay sitting on the fence
But for once, I just thought, I'd offer my two cents

I'm curious if you're aware, we're driven up the wall
Every time that you decide, to slow down to a crawl
Your almost paralytic, and you're never on the ball
We've seen slow moving objects, but you easily beat them all

Perhaps you are not conscious, and you aren't even awake?
Have you run out of petrol, have your pads seized on the brake?
There's nothing left in Staniforths, you've taken too much cake
Don't even get me started, on that stupid noise you make

I thought it was the Bisto Kids, who's come to join the party
The gravy's done, but just hold on, you need to be a smarty
We all know you will be first, because you're arty-farty
Your goal is a supper bowl, that's usually quite hearty

Let me tell you something, and I'll try to be precise
It's just a little peice of mind, a small piece of advice
Never hold your horses, if your sinking through thin ice
You'd only come a cropper, when it's us you sacrifice

You have this annoying habit, of just getting in the way
It's not even on occasion, because it happens every day
Do you have two broken ankles, are your feet stuck in set clay?
What exactly is the problem, what is causing the delay?

I suspect you may have parkinsons, or you're riddled with senility
Or are you attempting feebly, to Insult my sensibility?
Jesus Christ you've come too far, with inactive inability
The result of which is certainly, an impending liability

Why are you pacing back and forth, it's a cross contamination.
The last supper comes to mind, cos there is no explanation
If you scrutinise, I feel betrayed, with your food examination
You're like a giant tortoise, on a lazy stay vacation

We can't get to the cupboards, we can't open any door
The sideboard is a waste of time, your blocking every drawer
Sandwichs are on the move, crumbs fall down on the floor
Place your bread on porcelain, that's what the plates are for

Do I have to grow carbuncles, while I stand about and wait?
We don't need a running commentary, of what's on the buffet plate
It takes the **** at ten o'clock, when you stared out at eight
A Standing Charge should be enforced, set at the highest rate

Six eggs in a basket, what's in the cooking ***?
Tomatoes on a flat bread, thats a lovely fresh shallot
Potatoes with warm butter on, we're hoping they stay hot
I think I better call the Doc, and he will say Great Scott

Maybe you can't help yourself, and this is not your fault
But come on now it don't seem fair, when it causes a revolt
Is there any reason, why you're grinding to a halt?
You need a ******* cattle ****, or a massive lightning bolt

There doesn't seem much point to this, when everything's so slow?
You seem to be oblivious, and you don't even know
Will you collect two hundred pounds, somehow I don't think so
A Monopoly on standing still, cos you never will pass go

An arcade with all the classics, is where you ort to be
Then you could indulgence yourself, in a forgone guarantee
Mommy quick, I just can’t wait, give me a 50p
I know it will be challenging, to a very high degree

First there will be Pac-man, in a geriatric aider
Power pills will be no good, if your a ghostly masquerader
Donkey Kong will wait to long, for the dithering crusader
But your stuck and you've become, the ultimate Space Invader

Around the world in 80 days, there simply is no chance
***** Fog would just say no, without a second glance
You always appear stationary, and you're usually in a trance
If we started off from Dover, we would never get to France

The balloon would just come crashing down, because the airs gone cold
Rheumatism would set in, as Mr fog turned old
Poor Phileas would lose his hair, his head would just be bald
You'd make him wait, you'd seal his fate, his youth would be annulled

You've mastered the pure artform, of the dawdling Dilly-Dally
Good job your not a *******, in a seedy dark back ally!
I wouldn't dare to enter you. . . in our local summer rally
You'd only stop to analyse, the foliage in the valley

Don't hang around indefinitely, because we're all getting thinner
A hot meal would be nice, instead of a cold dinner
Be courteous to others, and we're onto a sure winner
It isn't very popular, when it's you that is the sinner

I sat here waiting patiently, so what's it all about?
Sunday launch took far too long, oh come on you old trout
You cannot reach a bean or pea, or a single brussel spout
**** this **** I'm off to bed, I'll ****** go without

Why are you so meticulous, cos it causes so much friction
To be frank when your a guest, it's not your jurisdiction
Its utterly ridiculous, but I will stand by my conviction
Please vacate the area, and get out my ******* kitchen

Stop hovering around the hob, and by the feeding trough
Your slower than a garden snail, your like a wingless moth
If I wasn't such a gentle soul, I'd tell you to *******
Perhaps your part Banana slug, and the slowest Three-Toed Sloth
This is about someone who is slow and always in the way
Leises Wimmern dringt durch den Nebel, der den Schlaf vom Wach sein trennt.
Das Bewusstsein ist träge und braucht eine Weile,
bis es erkennt,
dieses Stöhnen entrang sich dem eigenen Mund
und tut kund
von dem Schmerz dem unsäglichen
dem unerträglichen.
Ach warum kann ich nicht
verweilen im Land, das jenseits der Dämmerung liegt,
wo es keine Unbill gibt.
Nur Frieden, Freude Wohlsein und Wonne
auf einem warmen Stein liegend in der Sonne,
an einem Teich mit plätscherndem Wasserfall
und überall
Blumen mit betörendem Duft.
Der Ruf eines Adlers schallt
hoch in der Luft.
Es quakt ein Frosch,
im Gebüsch raschelt ein Tier.
Warum kann ich nicht einfach bleiben, hier
in meiner Oase, wo man nur Gutes empfindet
und alles Schlechte einfach verschwindet.
Und doch tröstet es mich zu wissen,  dass ich ab und an,
zum Ort meiner Träume zurückkehren kann.
Marie Nov 2020
Transzendenter Ort

in stagnierender Energie

im substanzlosen Nichts lauern

Wirklichkeiten
Emma May 2023
Dein Atem stockt.
Dein Herz verklingt.
Dein schwacher Körper – unbelebt.
Deine Seele auf dem Weg in die Freiheit.

Doch ich bleib hier.
Gelähmt von dem, was passiert.
Überfordert davon, was passiert ist.
Es wird Jahre dauern zu begreifen, was niemals passieren wird.
//
Und der Schmerz kommt und er geht.
Doch jetzt grad ist er hier – es ist schwer zu verstehn.
Dass du nicht mehr hier bist.
Und das alles, was bleibt, die Erinnerung ist.

Erinnerung, was für ein großes Wort.
Es ist Zurückversetzen an einen besseren Ort.
Eine bessere Zeit.
Etwas, das dann doch nicht bleibt.
Es ist Sehnsucht nach dem, was mal war und was niemals wieder sein wird.
//
Denn mit einem Schlag war alles vorbei.
Du – rausgerissen aus dieser Welt.
Verloren deine Träume.
Unerreichbar deine Gedanken.

Dein Atem stockte.
Dein Herz verklang.
Dein neuer Körper – frisch belebt.
Deine Seele frei zu gehn, wo es besser ist.
ich vermisse dich Papa <3
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2018
i've been trying to purge myself from
having read a novel:
      at almost 1000 pages -
it's hard not to:
                 i was told: easier to watch
the movie-adaptation...
        but i'm reading a different book now
and i'm stuttering...
  i have to claim the fallacy
of philosophical literature as being riddled
with the competition of fictional
prose: i keep "stuttering" -
i.e. rereading what is obliviously
there to either absorb or accept -
           not in or with a high-mindedness
i write the following words:
i abhor a need to strutter reading
a work of philosophy...
               it's already painful encompassing
a paragraph, let alone rereading
        a single sentence -
         i assure you: you will not recite
a work of such kind with a belief that
doesn't allow me to question, whether you
are, or that you aren't an: actor.
             oh, sure - we write about what
we read, but there are so many out there who
write about: what they never read...
an uncomfortable word for me,
notably due to the past participle red -
   and to do so in the moment: reed...
         some sort of glitch in the grapheme
æ - ash - something truly gravitates a "soul"
to agitate a body into writing this...
for all the perfections of the modern world
there is a verbal anomaly...
       as pedant i am prone to spot a bulging
crevice... and the shrinking dreihundret...
    i know i will visit my grandfather's
house only once...
      as told to throw the rose into
the fresh burial ground of my great-grandmother
i said: NEIN...
  and later took it home,
put it under a candle inspection,
and gently burned the red into purple,
to later gnash and grind my teeth's
worth of chipping one of them,
just after the wake, sitting alone in a kitchen,
drinking *****...
               i have no germanic affiliation
but it pains me to see them this way,
this medieval masochistic...
                   so i sometimes utter
a few words in german: for no reason
and for no concern for posterity -
  no Berliner can assign me a lineage...
     prior to the chipping of the tooth
there was the laughter on the bus
while the priest did his: evading the status
of a common women who died -
   in the meantime, just recently i solved
what first appeared an unspectacular
"plagiarism" of a ***- puzzle...
  hyphen? forgot the spelling of the rest...
   and in the two number blocks:
  alternatively odd / even numbers, i.e.

3 | 4  1 | 5  6 | 2
2  1 | 6  3 | 4  5
4 | 6  5 | 2  3 | 1
5  2 | 3  4 | 1  6
1 | 3  2 | 6  5 | 4
6  5 | 4  1 | 2  3

just like the sudoku - although alternatively
even / odd in the brackets...
   i attempted it with a sense of failure:
there are three isolated instances:

3 |                       | 2
...................................
4 |                        | 1
...................................
1|                         | 4
..................................

     by comparison sudoku was easy...

+++ 3, 3, 3
++ 3, 3, 0
+ 3, 0, 0
- 3
                      or something like that:

plus the        | via _
                                             x x x
                                             x x x
                                             x x x...

and how many times i wished to be
H'eh-sooz from Barcelona -
        too many to count the number of springs
i already count to: 31...
     well then...
              
    does the following allow me manliness
or armour?

              ****'s a bit wonky...
   funky wonky... but still: dual-stirrup on
that eight legged donkey!
   apparently drinking doesn't allow you to:
"properly" count...
                        
           for if i had an apple i could
press ******* a key and not let go and
it wouldn't be a ctrl c cntrl p scenario
having to copy "eccentric" markings added
onto letters from the HTTP beast...

name an instance?

                 súdòkū -

well no, if i'm being deviant why establish
the study of orthography?

           yes, the -niece word can be contained
with a samurai blade sharpness
    mono-syllable...
            hai...
                      but slow it down?
this is what slow motion looks like...
slow motion in terms of applying
diacritical marks...
     you can almost be thankful that
the english-speaking world has
to only contend with:

                    a. punctuation marks
                    b. hyphenated words
                    as reconstruction of
                        a germanic genesis -
                       missing in chemistry...
                  
hydrochrloric acid is best condensed
and not left as shrapnel...

          -             -      so best to huddle
and count the space between your fingers
when waving like a... ******* idiot.

but i am still going to "stutter" when
reading a philosophy book -
    which is a BIG X (a ******* twist
of +) -
                 plus...
            because i've heard of women who
have reread entire books...
    well... **** two birds with one stone...
read a philosophy book:
     you'll be reading it twice in a single
sitting...
             no point rereading if you're
already rereading it already -
i.e. making cogito scriptums -
   mental notes...
                    
   and then when you get a chance
to hound a blank echo tunic worth of
a page? hell becomes: democratic -
       and each has his own: say...

        why wouldn't want to play around
with punctuation marks in a language
that has no diacritical precedence as bound
to Latin - with the only insinuation
being the lost artefact of carving graphemes?

     already pointed out:
    cheap and short -
   spot the graphemes!
             because, sure as ****,
     there's a difference in cattle heap
       and summer hornets...
                
to imagine: i've learned a language in order
to unlearn it, or better still: relearn it,
   and become a pedantic aesthetician...
  
wel... but if the germans can make S S
     into a ß - ah... the noun game -
   it's a digraph and not a grapheme because
the two letters are twins worth
merging and
not siamese akin to... worth cutting apart:
             is that not just a B, but also
nuanced as merely Zet?via
                      gro-z-es - vizier?
        where is that H to catch the O
   prior to anticipating the hyphen?
      back with god...
              i have to conceed a remark though:
something really made the jews smart
if what smart meant was: hiding vowels,
or rather making vowels into
diacritical marks akin...
       which i can't say the same about arabs...
  lucky the oil's there...
  
     this riddle will exhaust me
and i will never write a decent effort to
satisfy me...
     thus i rather leave it at that:
having exhausted, rather than abadoned
  this palace of a former blank space...
there are bound to be squatters ready
to inherit a peel of an orange for zest
of an orange i just ate.

   but i still manged to drink alone:
under the banner of to-ast!
    and that really is the distinguishable
desire to apply diacritical marks
when to and too are indistinguishable
    when otherwise: pool and pol(l)
are apparent -
         something is honestly wriggling
in english trying to get out...
maybe a death of a certain bilingualism.
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2019
mein aktuell,
              überarbeitet
                           Weimar...

anything in the german
zunge
sounds fascist...
so... what the hell...

might as well call
zee German
outright
   in "his" post-
  of the anglo-saxon
ruling elite...

            schwabian...
that's how the slavs
determine
the german...

      schwab...

           not a saxon
(migrant),
but a consistent
posit...
non-nomadic...

        with the sächsisch-volk
resembled...
nomadic tribes
of the monotheistic
"righteous"...
you want *******
camel cockneys?!
  you want the dust riddled
desert people?!

  no... these *******
aren't hermits...
they move...
and they move via
everyone is left,
unsuspecting...

the slavs know them
as schwäbisch-deutsche...
the celts known
them as sächsisch-deutsche...

no, i want to see the over-prided
anglo-saxon,
reduced to the germanic
in him,
where his slur originates...
anglo- attached to celt...
sax...
          not a ******* saxophone...

i know the difference....
i know the tale to tell apart
the people from
sächsisch from a schwäbisch
(deutsche)...
i "know" the difference between
a saxon...
roaming deutsche....
and a firm,
settled,
fertile stagnant of a
               švab!
                       porky ***-***...
schwab!
      i know a swabian...
  no... you ******* imbecile...
no Ł...
  and yes... plenty of
the croat addition:
                                      š...
and the upside down lambda
of a cut-loss of W via V...

you might not know the difference...
but i know and breathe it!
the saxons... roamed...
became anglo-saxons...
   i came an anglo-slav...
but the...
   švabians?
    resolut...
               und fest...
und im ihre ort...
                  
it's like... the saxon kin,
no... so little of their
swabian brethren...

back east, among the slavs?
no one even begins
to dream
of the saxons, the empire
founders...
the germnaic nomads...
back east...
all you hear is arrived upon,
by the dictum
of a lacking compensate
for the swabians...
      
          it was definitely
an anglo-saxon...
but certainly not an
anglo-švab...

                           schwá'b...

now, tell me,
my northern nomad...
where is your lot,
     to accomplish: stay?
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2021
every time i walk up to the Thames
at Coldharbour...
and i meet this aghast
consummate volume of
murk, water...

every time i walk up to the Thames:
that's the "thing"
with walking... there's so much
"there"...
        
the snail's-apprentice...

every time i walk up to the Thames
at Coldharbour...
i have this... wild sparkle
leftover in my eye
greasing me up for more...

every time i walk up to the Thames
at Coldharbour
past the Rainham village
via the traintracks
via the marshes...

  i get this wild idea of...
  taking my clothes off...
stripping bare: to a minimum
of agitated limbs...
& goosebumps...
and swimming to the south-shore...

every time i write something
in english...
i want to make an emphasis
in deutsche...

verrücktluft: air pre an embodiment
of mond...

Einrich von stubble und
ein fünf
          eine fünf
tongue-breaking (zungebrechen)
von die vierte ***** etc.
           a pause
  with: a(n) applause, case, to... boot...

halving: what's for the ******?
i have to Atlas pose
what's to be inherited from
the 20th century because:
at that sort of short-lived
prior to a nadir...

no, no there's no entertaining
closures of this 'ort...
phlegm and proverbs cosmopolitan...
jews jews everywhere...
but not an Israeli to fathom
a bothersome "it" with...

        perfected Danzig
cosmopolitan jeder-deutsche for: kichert...
life along the aorta:
this "sacred" city...

by CH an X is implied...
                      halving a caron:
because pronoun ich...
could be... isch... dogs are barking
it's past 2am and...
whipping... lashing... Zeros X
come CH Xaron etc.
                 Blah Babble a Loan...

every time i walk up to the Thames
at Coldharbour...
i think about taking off my clothes
and swimming across
this grandiosity of...
it's beside me pretending it's
the Vistula... an artery of a nation...

London alone...
to the south-shore...
a wild idea... by tomorrow...
it's long long past "gone".
Jonas Sep 2023
Die Straßen ziehen vorbei
Licht an Licht wie fallende Sternschnuppen vorm Fenster.
Bei Tageslicht, Abenddämmerung, Sonnenaufgang
ein neuer Tag.
Bäume, Häuser, Felder,
Wälder

Die Materie meines Landes wiegt mich in die Schläfrigkeit,
geborgen
Das Buch in meiner Hand fällt in meinen Schoß
Immer noch dieselbe Seite,
bin immer noch nicht weiter.
Der Inhalt unverändert unbegreiflich
Mein Atem geht zum Rhythmus der Schienen unter uns.
Wir fliegen zusammen und doch bleibe ich allein.

Augen zu, Augen auf
du hast geblinzelt.
Ankunft, Abfahrt
du hast geblinzelt.
Auf ins Neue, ins Unbekannte
oder doch zurück zu alten Gegenden?
Durch die Entfernung wieder neu erlebt.

Kommst du jetzt wieder zurück?
Hast du genug bekommen,
Antworten gefunden auf die Fragen die du nicht fandest?
Die du nicht zu stellen wagtest?
Die dich trotzdem quälten?

Du warst zu lange fort,
deine Heimat ist noch hier,
aber Hier ist nicht mehr dein Hier,
längst ein anderer Ort.

Du wolltest alles hinter dir lassen,
gingest
trotz der Angst dann zu viel zu verpassen,
Hauptsache weg, weg von hier
dachtest du hättest nicht viel zu verlieren.
Allem entfliehen, Pause, Neuanfang
Ohne genau zu wissen was dieses Alles überhaupt war.

Hast du es nicht ausgehalten letztendlich
so ohne sie, die Anderen?
Im Nichts, im Nirgendwo auf eigenen Wegen zu wandern?
Einsam im Herzen hast du dich wieder verrannt
Im Herzen stumpf, die Seele verbrannt.

Nun kommst du wieder,
zurück,
um zu sehen was  noch übrig ist
Zurück zum Alten, Vertrauten, Selben
Wir sind aber nicht mehr die Selben
Du ja auch nicht.

Alles wieder etwas anders, verschoben
Wieder ein bisschen auseinander gelebt,
voneinander entfernt,
weitergemacht, natürlich, nur halt ohne dich.
Schade eigentlich.

Doch nun schließ die Augen, schlaf
Gestern war auch ein neuer Tag,
verronnen,
Morgen wird noch kommen.
Wer nie ankommt der reist für immer,
umher.

Naja, wenigstens auf Schienen,
und noch nicht entgleist.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2021
qp
such episodes do happen...
  when i write more than i read:
by that i invoke
even the wait... necessary for
the weekend edition of a newspaper
and... all the reviews come in...
of books, of t.v. shows...
imagine: people have employed
people to ingest... digest...
ingest... digest what's on offer...
while lying in bed for an hour
i had to cling to the idea
of having enough time
to listen to an hour of BBC radio 3...
call me a snob or whatever
but this is where the taxpayers'
money is being well spent...
bbc radio 3 is a flagship model
of "arrogance": well... more or less
a perfected taste...
or not that even remotely
being allowed... to pass (with)
my breath let alone off my tongue...
i'd rather employ my tongue
to trill an R or wriggle in between
chewing a decently arrived at cut
of beef - that hasn't been doubly
butchered...
although... if my memory serves me
right... the folk in england
prefer their beef done to a synch...
well-done...
doubly-butchered...
eating among the natives
i'd soon turn to a diet of
   the Jain... or thereabouts
with that plethora of spices
and lentils...
but i would go begging vegetarian
if i were served... well done beef
all the ****** time...
undeserving... rearing a colt bull
for the slaughter and not appreciating
something either bleu...
rare or medium at the rear of
rare...
a bit like contaminating
whiskey with lemonade (when bourbon
just the trick)...
or not... or when gesticulating at
something in Braille...
reading the air: or as one might
have to... tackling the Linear B...
but there are certainly not enough
hours in the day for listening to
bbc radio 3...
for a while i thought that radio 4
had the prime status...
conversation: mmm hmm:
very important...
come to think of it...
i have got used to walking without
needing the cushioning of my fatty
brainz with two pouches of
electric-current seizures... at the snap
of the fingers (etc.)
- that the wind doesn't play flute...
well i neither **** out syllables
of trombone either...
a bizarre interlude of when i actually
read less than i write...
oh i'm pretty sure it shows...
when i write more than i read...
i start to choke on my own subjectivity,
self-importance... "autism" / solipsism...
by the hand that does
imitation ****** in the no. 3 on
the throne of thrones...
sitting in an akimbo pose
at the end of the day
when what has been necessarily *******
out has ******* out
and there's only a prayer
for a tapeworm: no, no champagne
to not be... ******* out as proof
that... dieting revisionism works...
but like my fickle memory:
otherwise exposed to that almost
diabolical Pavlovian stressor testing
within the confines of pedagogy...
(k)nitty-picky what's on offer from
history... ah... the Angevin empire...
the Capetian dynasty... culminating
with Phillip II...
Henry II...
             Otto IV... not sure...
thrown into this cauldron of time...
what's on offer...
we most certainly fill this world
to the brim...
        so much so that there's no reason
or capacity to keep up...
at a time when i write more than
i read...
an exhaustion with a self
and all its abstract *******, comes to mind...
it would be so much easier
to doodle back into reading something
"important"...
but it's not like Delmore Schwarz is alive
and it suddenly dawns upon me...
apart from reading newspapers...
the odd opinion section daily...
waiting for Sunday's news review...
lately... dissatisfying...
and all the book reviews...
  well... perhaps i'm writing more than
necessary because, simply because...
well... if the substance / topic
is oh so very interesting...
the punctuation is without "umami"...
of note: the english language is
without diacritical marks
so there goes the whole idea
of meditating on intra-verbum
punctuation / syllabary...
no... i did my stint with katakana and i'm
not going back...
i need to see holes again...
to x-ray through and onto the canvas
holes in: a, b, A, B, R, O, o, P, p, g,
   d, D... q... Q...
bring me back to seeing letters
for their sounds...
after all these letters look like
they were intended for
lip-reading...
   and most of the time they are...
quirky awry ******* a lemon almost: Q...
qp
       cute: parrot... cue moi... again...

- not that i can say i eer played
the violin...
but after a morning shower...
a day spent curating the garden
so the patio looks presentable
to the "palette" of which there
is no taste to be minded (solely for the eyes)...
an uncombed beard
does feel... less than a **** garden
kept by chance (or miracle)
of its own doing...
scratching my ***** "altar" is more
rewarding...
but, come circa 12am
and the beard is finally combed...
with its full bloom
and volume restored...
well then... the chin and the entire
jaw line can retain its
mythological status of being
hidden under this *****-galore
wonder...
a full hand of this specific rustic
is what keeps me from
having any ***** envy...
although my hands are expansive
enough to be able to hold
a basketball in one...
no wonder i prize a woman's
hands as the most ****** part
of her body...
clearly exaggerated exfoliations
of the hind and **** would
drive any man bonkers...
it's almost cartoonish but at heart
primeval / prehistoric...
what might allow me to gravitate
toward identifying an mammoth
without the word mammoth...
or a squid without the colour of
a mountain drowning in a sea...

qp... i believe that       Ф (ef, fe, phi)
are its closest "abbreviations"
insinuating "marriage"...
but unlike that Siamese coupling
of ancient-doodle-this-doodle-that
of twinning vowels (æ)
qp... did emerge as F...

      i abhor being reminded
that language is volatile...
that it "evolves" that it's an algebraic
x, y, zoot...
            confiscate one of my tongues:
for the love of god...
push me into a structure
of psychology that has only
room for one zunge...
not these bi-schizoi-duo-d(wins)...
apparently each to their own...
- because it's not even that
i'm expecting the natives to scratch
a furthering of exterior possible
with a 2nd tongue...
i'm half-way: meeting...
i'm ****'s sake all the half's need
to be passably involved for
the natives to interact with:
alias - pseudo n.p.c.
graffiti giraffe etc.

qp = ϕ
if æ = a + e...
         yes... let me return to the letters
that represent sounds...
i don't care...
mother goose, alias superior...
what the mandarin hieroglyphs are thrown...
synonym them otherwise
are emoticons, ideograms. etc.
hell... throw in the Linear B...
that whole Mycanaean shabang...
i need to see what can be later heard...
not what can be "insinuated"
what is an otherwise
simple...

my boa my 堡 (ba-o)...
my f-ort...
                    but sure as chicken crazy
******* pigeon glue
that's not a mind-****** of a su-do-ku...
for the reason that i might
love english pragmatism and abhor
the "zeitgeist" / vogue of Darwinism
like it might be a Copernican revolution...

i will not learn to decipher
Chinese hieroglyphs not because i'm
lazy but because i'm of a musical
lot... a#...
                even though i'm almost tone deaf
that's an elephant stepped on
my tongue... base my reason(s)
on an ability to whistle...
i'm too agitated to want to learn
this labyrinth of squat: x-ray...

three alphabets available on the word
go...
but it's nonetheless redeeming
to caress a bush of a beard
with a mythological chin...
all the more since i can't play
the violin...
self-                         -love?
                +
stressing my own self-
                                            -worth?
no one, beside my own toils will
write such... taming...
              beside all the lost ideals of love...
lesbians!
when kissing my teenage girlfriend in
the park when i donned long hair
like a Hindu priest...
etc.
            way before the internet was
established as this gimmick of status quo /
a Sisyphusian task-load of
bogged down in baritone...
cull of toads...
  and... gurgle... and gluttony of gurgling...
and soap bubbles...
and adventure... of skim-reading
encyclopaedic entries...

come to think of it...
reading and rereading an encyclopaedia
and somehow a revision
of a day...
come the same old spring
when in the loosening of air
come the exfoliating magnolias
that steal everything necessarily
not a vanilla mono-
                       glitch of the toast of taste, & buds...

how refreshing it must all
be: tamed, with(in) the confines
of atoms, of letters...
so far removed from the constraints
of syllables...

how "poverty" riddled
the complexity
of :
       ン   ナ    ニ    ヌ    ネ    ノ
             ア     イ    ウ    エ   オ
fudge packaging...
   might i "want" to use )( brackets...
what about an apostrophe?
to hide a surd...
e.g. gnostic = 'nostic...

   i mean... all these idiosyncratic
very latin-esque junctions
of keeping up
aesthetic practices...
    it's hardly ******* Bengali...
and even if it was...
what saved the blues (indians)
was their cuisine...
that rupture that explosion
from a standard of salt, pepper...
rosemary... thyme...
how the red (indians) didn't survive
the surge... how they admired mustangs...
how they didn't spice-up...
their bread was beyond flat...
how collectively: a breeding of man...
had to allow such curators of:
what was readily available...
left to waste... that land of the frontiers...

then came a claustrophobia surrounding
the great basin of hearth...
this spec of near impossible trajectory...
having a lace
of recurrent for a spin:
spring fresh... rekindled emotion:
once more... greater tasks for god
to contest: best nothing...
while there being a blister...
a homage to purpose within limbo...

if nothing was the mind-bending, enough...
that acting was what allowed
shadow-thieving...
from no pulpit
but i find it impossible to curate
what democracy is all hot & bothered about...
i can't find the vein...
of "purpose"...
agglomerate my first come last...
suppose there's this over-arching comfort
of predictability and
this snooze buttocks for skidding
into "purpose"...

       i'm less than agitated
by this core, defining... "purpose"...
since the purpose of journey is well
established...
but that there's also
a "well done" a pat-on-the-back
a sense of accomplishment
when laced with the "claustrophobia"
of death...
an oozing through a membrane
peeking from beneath a curtain...

     sensibly being allowed to focus
on sphinxes... cats... bonsai tigers...
because as much as i love dogs
and have, loved, dogs...
ageing the leash is a non-starter...
i much prefer an intelligence
in the eyes of something petted
than the eyes that will otherwise
merely implore: scrutiny not available...

no wonder the blah-lah muslims
implore a scrutiny of letttering
of dog | god...
in english... i ask...
all?                            aaaah...
        so who's more adhan ready?

for the sake of jumbled orange
and its jelly offspring...
at some point i might have...
most probably... encountered a completion
of rho-****...
that trilling-R-monkey...
****-similis / similis est...
         but not since the replica
coliseums burst open onto the stage
of footsie fancy...

squat... scrutiny... beside the meaning
of words...
first come the sounds....
only later... whether or not
i kept vigil over having
spelled them, proper...

any "deviation" from standarised
punctuation inter-verbum
is my own...
and as my own: i keep it.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2020
let's be fickle in a democracy -
let's be democratically fickle -
   pheasant one evening:
           a wholesome broth of bother the next...
this is not a political poem:
you'll soon see...
             it's not in a democracy
there's a status quo "tyranny"...
          the same hands shake: when changing
gloves...
but this is not a political poem...
it's... a fickle poem...

20 minutes into "surfing" the internet...
looking for the jukebox that once was
that once was youtube...
and not that keen on using last.fm...
   circa 2006 very much so:
that's how i came across porcupine tree etc.

- how i love drinking and listening
to music... and then: off the perch i cascade down
to scribble: long lost the hand-writting...
if this is a forever of getting used to
being a "lucky duck": a dyslexic's nightmare...
an ambidexter...
                  
        which you could quote:
if i were donning a sort of niqab that...
was a veil: + below the eyes...
                        not an ambidexter pianist?
this... the alternative... universe where this is true?
all of us being looked using
spectacle specifically designed for the sort
of Daltonists that...
      would... make the calcium of the dover
cliffs come out: sulphuric and therefore canary...
lob-sided architecture of
the imperfection that was... and is...
       the vitruvian man: alias: quasimodo...

some remains of nirvana:
  a twist of punk, grunge and... indie...
            "post" and a modernism 2.0 etc.
i'm no john peel and i don't come along
for a hard-on for any "proper terms":
because... the library is: over' v'er...
"somewhere"...

   because we're talking about the year 2001...
i was... ****... 4 years to 1990...
10 years to 2000... and a year to wait to come
up with: hell... being 15!

              the year is 2001...
i care because only recently i was looking through
the sunday times' culture magazine...
and a band i do remember from: aeons ago...
the strokes... released their debut: this is it...

and i was reading this album review...
because... the strokes did a comeback...
        the newspaper culture cohort made a note
of: the new abnormal...

               for the music i'll spare myself
the already boiling embarrassment... of "narrative"...
oh sure... fast paced: almost akin to a spy thriller novel...

look no further: glum... details in culture...
of something new...
                    i told myself...
you find something... music it is...
and curating for mr. absolute...
                       and perhaps the chance:
        blitz...
                            
                           the strokes... because... culturally...
it mattered to the newspaper to revive...
10 minutes in and if i'm not getting anything
that's no more than soap-opera or
tabloid press...
          i'll sentences myself to silence and
pretending to drink... and harvest a chapter
off of Dickens: the new bible for me...

       on repeat: Dickens can... casually...
on a good day... on a bad day...
                 do more than Shakespeare could...
because there was no bad day for a Shakespeare...
the whim... the breath... the oracle and
the muses needed to mind-**** those hands
into scribbling and rhyme...
rhyme: the lesser geometry...
          but Dickens... should have been taught
at schools...
why Shakespeare still needs to be...
turning in his grave over have schoolchildren
scrutinize his work...

   Dickens: bible darling: every day any day:
all day long over...
                              and i promised myself
that if i didn't find anything...
and even if the strokes released this is it
back in 2001...

       there's another...
                     that other quondam relic of 2001...
which was never given the same traction
of journalistic interest...
        fugazi... and the album?
                                       the argument...

the landline isn't working: the vinyl factory is burning -
i can't remember the last time
i used a phonebook... come to think of it:
i never used one...
                        talk and on the cheap:
i do remember licking a stamp...
and an envelope...
                                    
   nothing political: but democracy and its
status quo "tyranny"... bewildering in how anti-cruel...
and... dispossessive concerns this fudge
passes from one pair of hands to the other...
last time i checked: the argument for veganism
was... you eat the meat: you eat the fear...

                           that once upon a time...
oysters were... hardly a... delicacy... but something
to be eaten by the east end clot... "of bother"...

of no concern: this is hardly a competition...
a steady diet of nothing from 1991...
                   and no mention of sonic youth...
exits only...
                    and only that...
                              backrolling with the barbarians...
a comparative literature course:
from Dickens... through Beckett ending up
at Burroughs...
                          and then...
       well... Rapunzel? the grammatical overview
of sumerian?
          much closer to home...
                 rzecz:        жэч    (thing)...
   but what russian doesn't have is...
                      rzeczą (with / using a thing /
to be a thing)...  and no... the indefinite article (a) /
the definite article (the) are more or less...
for now... an english "thing"...

   Dickens mentioned: orthography...
but... can you have a concept of orthography...
without diacritical marks?
isn't the claim: orthography: nothing more
than... merely a... spelling mistake?

after all... an orthographic error is...
            śmieh to zdrowie → śmiech (correctly)...
etc. because i'm not here to bother...
   it's not an orthographic error:
when both nothing and... no thing actually
coexist... depending on the emphasis...
or lack of... i.e. i know nothing...
                          and... x has no (other) thing
of comparison to exist with for a worth
of default...
         something: some things never change...
because there's a difference between something...
or other... and... some things: which can never
become: something - since there is no: "somethings":
or "nothings": as there are: no things of said
description...

                   known knowns... known unknowns...
unknown knowns... and gnomes...
          unknown: unknowns... orthographic gnome
garden of donald rumsfeld...
                
a nice little rubric:
     noga (foot) - nogą (using a foot)...
             mowa (speech) - mową (using speech)...
     but... only partially true:
   widelec (fork) - widelcem...
      barometr - barometrem
                                              -em
                                               -ą  "sumerian" suffixes...
since apostrophe 's is hardly a suffix
when it's: a plural article...
                     and a possessive (possession) article...
or... capitulation to 'ort-'and...
                         it's: it is...              
and how the apostrophe "disappears"
                                its: red colour:
                                                      but­ for me that's...
pedantic orthography when no diacritical
marks are involved...

                     enough... not as a language: as a whole...
with... no clarity of invested in interests... for...
anything beside: a vanity project it could be...
a one off... but that it keeps recurring...
no amount of labour: for this iron maiden...

a whiff of the topic... nothing more... a teaser.

— The End —