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Mateuš Conrad Apr 2016
perchance an epic was necessary, to consolidate the scattered thinking, and indeed, once a certain life, and was lived with a cherishing heart, the heart broke, and life turned from adventures to a more studious approach, and in here, a comfort was found, never before imagined explorations - of course sometime a tourist in the arts does come, but such tourists quickly fade, and the pursuit becomes more enshrined - to levitated towards epics is perhaps the sole reason for the cherished memory of some - and how quickly all can revolve around a searched for theme, after many incorporations were minded - as one to have travelled the Mediterranean, another to have been eaten by the great mandarin silkworm of the library of Kangxi - heading along the silk route with spices - indeed the great mandarin silkworm of the library of emperor Kangxi; as i too needed a bearing - to inspect the trickster of lore and the godly blacksmith of the north.

by instruction - an accumulation of the the zephyrs
into a vector, headed north,
toward the gluttonous murk of ice, jesting
with aches to the bulging and mesmerised crescendo
of adrift stars captured in the tilting away -
to think of an epic, to keep out-of-time of
spontaneity and thistle like swiftness in the last
days of summer, that Mercury brings the new
tides of the tetravivaldis -
   brought by the λoγος of a γoλας -
for reasons that satisfy the suntan copper of
the ***** - the λoγος of a γoλας - yet not toward
Monte Carlo or any hideout of money well invested
and greedily spent for a charm -
no, north bids me welcome from afar -
this norðri fløkja, this    ᚾᛟᚱᛞᚱᛁ       ᚠᛚᚢᚲᛃᚨ -
by my estimate, i could not take the nonsense
of numerology of a certain specialisation,
i took what was necessary, i pillaged the temple
of Solomon, perhaps that the dome of the rock
might stand - with its glistening dome and
its sapphire mosaics - i don't belong among
palm trees and date trees - hence i turned to
deciphering and subsequently encrypting -
as i have already with *ᚱᚨᛒᛖ
:
the journey of an Æsir through a birch forest
on a horse.
                    with this method in mind:
(a) ᚾᛟᚱᛞᚱᛁ       (b) ᚠᛚᚢᚲᛃᚨ:

(a)
the need to acquire possessions accumulating
into an estate, is a journey encountered
day by day, although a journey on ice

(b)
cattle only thrive near water,
auruchs did not, and hence illuminated
their way to extinction,
         by way of the Æsirs' harvest
(to eat up diversity of life, and create
a godless world of man).

my escape route came from ᚠ - mirroring שִׂ
although the former standing, the latter sitting
down, although the former fathomable
to my pleasure, the latter unfathomable
to ascribe numbers to letters for patterns -
i seek no patterns, hence my sight turned to
the northern sights, and meanings amplified.
                
the greeks were intended to explore abstracts,
having stated a triangle
they invented the ² symbol and what not,
it was because
they didn't bother extracting a phonetic unit
from something definite,
they classified such endeavours barbarian,
what reasonable greek of 13% reason and
87% reality would extract alpha from
the sound you made when
saying ansur (ᚨᚾᛋᚢᚱ) - i.e. attention -
i.e. deriving a definite sound differentiation
for alphabetical rubrics from a definite thing
(in whatever classification that might be)?
the greeks used the alphabetical rubric of
crafting a definite sound from an indefinite thing,
so they said: acronym, aardvark, assumption,
                       α                 α      α     α,
then they said α² - there are no antonyms -
but indeed there were, hence the Trojan nation
settling in the boot, that's Italy,
the Romans escalated the greek theory
beyond taking out a definite sound distinguished
from other distinguishable sounds,
abstracting what the alphabetic sound assured
a list under alpha: assumption, advantage,
acorn, etc. -
the latins were the first atomist after the greeks,
the greeks believed in atoms, but had no
microscopes to prove atoms existed,
such scientific faith found no parallel;
the latins ensured this was true,
ending with castrato sing-along -
the latins furthered abstracting sounds from
definite orientation which the greeks did
working from ice into iota,
the latins just sang i, i, i -
of course chiral behaviourism of such dissection
emerged - hatch a plan, plan a chisel -
it's very piquant i mind to let you know -
the greeks abstracted nouns in order to create
the alphabet, the barbarians still used
proper nouns to speak proper, the greeks
thus created synonyms and antonyms to add
to the spice of life - after all,
not deriving definite alphas from
cursors that acknowledged points of origins
created diacritical stressing like comma and
semis of colon and macron, not deriving them
from definite things, shunning a helpful
vocabulary bank to an unhelpful vocabulary
banked: synonyms and antonyms the Gemini's
birth of rhetoric;
but the latins were rejected with their atomic theory
of pronunciation, since they became laden
with diacritics - punctuation marks of a different sort,
you can measure a man sprint one hundred metres,
but is that also measuring a man to say
mān or män or mán? i know that the slavic ó = u
given the scalpel opening the ensō to craft a parabola -
but it's not necessarily an accent debate
but a punctuation debate... the emergence of
the diacritic symbols above the letters is due
partly to their joy of the popes listening to
castrato operas and the fact that the romans
went too far... hence the chiral nature of certain
symbols when dittoing - the barbarians used
definite things to assert definite sounds -
the greeks used indefinite things to assert definite
sounds - mind you, if the romans became too
abstract with their little units that became engraved
with punctual accenting, then the greek letters
became laden with scientific constants as necessarily
fathered, unchanging in the pursuit of Heraclitus' flux -
for example... Pythagoras and the hypotenuse:
                            σ / κ² = α² + β² -
           or?
                             c² (ć) = a² (ą) + b² / š (bubble beep
                                                           bop barman backup hop
                                                           of shackled kakah
                                                           or systematic oscillation
                                                           for bzz via burp);
πρ² is still more stable
                                 than what the latin alphabet allows -
hence why greek phonetic encoding was used in
science, and latin phonetic encoding was used in music,
can't be one or the other - added to the fact that
latin encoding had too many spare holes with
the evolution of numbers, and greek didn't have them,
hence β-reduction in lambda calculus and F-dur and A#

the one variant of the grapheme (æ) they didn't include
among expressions: graphite and grapheme
was the variant - gravitating to an entombing
of the excess aesthetic - geresh stress -
somehow the twins match-up to a single womb:
àé vs. áè: V vs. Λ - Copernicus wrote over all
of this with the flat earth uselessness
in terms of navigation - flat earth is useless...
huh? flat earth is the only system that gave
Columbus the chance to explore the new world -
no flat earth no Columbus -
that satellite named Luna was no tool
in navigating across the Atlantic - believe me
i'm sure -
                  or that grapheme (æ) varied like statistics
or like the characters in the book of genesis
that famous adam und eve (kim and kanye):
chances came, chances went:
it was still a draw on the tongue tied decipher:
àè and áé proved another notation for plurality
was necessary, not at the beginning of the word,
but after, hence the possessive article 's,
we could have parallelism, there was a crux,
how once the chiselling of letters came about,
more economic to chisel in a V than a U,
both the same, much easier though...
almost barbaric i might say...
sigma (Σ) enigma rune e (ᛖ) - this compass
is a ******* berserker, god knows if it's
mount Everest or the Bermuda Δ

but one thing is for certain, never you mind how
a language is taught unless you mind it,
not that conversational athenian is really what
i'm aiming at - but a lesson is a lesson nonetheless,
out of interest something new,
richard von Coudenhove-Kalergi,
and what preceded him, namely pan-slavism,
just when the polish-lithuanian commonwealth
did a little Judaic trick of its own,
although snorkelling in the waters of not writing
history for less a time than israel -
you can't beat ~2000 under water - although
you could if your little tribe had an einstein
among them, or proust or spinoza, then
you could effectively become a whale, popping
an individual out from the rubble to say a polite
'hello' and 'when will the dessert be served?'
but indeed, learning a language on your own,
how to learn from scratch, the greek orthography,
and why omicron and not omega,
the give-away? sigma - purely aesthetic reason,
                             νoμισματων

                             nomismaton

omicron                                                 omega

                 you write omicron at the front
                 and omega at the back
                 pivot letter? two: σ     μ &
                 νoμι-                                -ατων
                      ­                     |
                 anything here  
                 will use o            and anything
                                              here uses ω

alike to sigma:
                          χωρας (choras, i.e. country)

sigma (ς) not sigma (σ), i.e. digitalising languages
without a clear connectivity of letters,
block-a-brick-block-a-brick-digit-digit-digit
you learn that handwriting is gone,
two options, your own aesthetic reasons now,
remember, some paired for the ease of handwritten
flow - digitalised language changes the aesthetics,
you make your own rules (considering exceptions
of oh mega mega, ergo revision -

                                       χoρας,

but still the sigma rule, others esp. o mega
you stamp on them like βλαττια, i.e. cockroaches -
κατσαρίδα                 not         κατςαρίδα

all perfectly clear when you explore plato's
dialogue from the book Θηαετητυς (as you might
have noticed, the epsilon-eta project is still
in the storage room of my imagination) -
but indeed in the dialogue, between socrates
and the "hero" of the book theaetetus -
a sample, without an essay on the theory
of knowledge -
socrates: ...'tell me theaetesus, what is Σ O?'
theaetetus: yes, my reply would be that it is
                    Σ and O.
socrates: so there's your account of the syllable,
                isn't it?
theaetetus: yes.
socrates: all right, then: tell me also what your
                  account of Σ is.
                                                             ­   (etc.
or as some might say, a shrug of the shoulders,
a hmmpf huff puff of hot air, impractical interests
and concerns - well, better the impractical
problems than practical problems, less feet
shuffling and nail-biting moments with your
tail between your legs and an army of
intellectuals working out what went wrong
and how history will solve everything by
the practical problems repeating themselves) -
you know that inane reaction - others would just say
Humphrey Bogart and nonetheless get on with it.

some would claim i was begot a second time,
not in the sixth month period of the aqua-flesh,
how did i actually related to the life aquatic,
for nine months i was taught to hold my breath,
however did this happen?
a miracle of birth? ah indeed the miracle of
a crutch for a woman - spinal deformities -
9 months, sort to speak, in water or some other
fluid - merman - a beastly innovation -
next you'll be telling me beyond this life
we turn into centaurs, given the Koran's promise -
you'd need the appetite of a breeding horse
to satiate the 72 - or thereabouts - martyr or
no martyr - 72? that's pushing it -
or as they say among children - a chance playground
without swings or sandpits, but very careless
gravitational pulling toward a certain direction;
nonetheless, they might have that i did indeed
settle of a sáttmáli                  ᛋᚨᛏᛏᛗᚨᛚᛁ
                  við         ­                  Vᛁᛞ
                  tann                         ᛏᚨᚾᚾ
                  djevul                      ᛞᛃᛖVᚢᛚ -
the hands you see, fidgety -
     hond handa grammur burtur    úr   steðgur
     ᚻᛟᚾᛞ  ᚻᚨᚾᛞᚨ  ᚷᚱᚨᛗᛗᚢᚱ   ᛒᚢᚱᛏᚢᚱ  ᚢᚱ   ᛋᛏᛖᛞᚷᚢᚱ
         the hands give an ardent pursuit
                                                 away from rest -
well not that my poems will ever reach
the islands in question - and indeed an
uneducated guess propels me - what does it matter,
λαλος babbler meant anything, indeed λαλος,
language as my own, is a language that i can
understand - and should anyone omit
disparities - a welcome revision would never tease
nor burn my eyes - but the phonetic omission
peeved me off: woad in water, ventricles in a
variety of entanglements - it's just not there -
and indeed, orthographically, if there are no more
optometric involvements of omicron's twin -
then the stance is with you to use whichever pleases,
i can't tell the difference, unless i was a pedantic
student, aged 70, with a granddaughter i wanted
to be wed teasing a millimetre's worth of
phonetic differentiation between the two -
POTATO PA'H'TAYTOE TOMATO TA'H'MAYTOE -
linguistically one's american and the other
is british, which looks like greek and latin
upside-down and in a mirror: pəˈteɪtəʊ, təˈmɑːtəʊ;
or as the spaghetti gobblers would put it:
the tetragrammaton is working on their
texan drawl (dwah! ripples in china) -
or the high-society new england ******* *******
coo with a cuckoo's load of clocks -
before being sent off to england for a respectable
education, something en route Sylvia Plath -
but not to ol' wee scoot land - ah nay - well
perhaps for a year and then talk of north european
barbarism of a deep friend pizza and mars bar.

and when descartes finished with christina
queen of sweden, she became an animate portrait
of feminine attempts at philosophising,
she was basically ostracised from society,
well, not society per se, she didn't become a stray
dog, but she forgot certain functions of
the upper tier - lazily modern man decides
to hide phenomena from understanding
individual instances, with the kantian guise
of a noumenon, hence cutting his efforts short -
indeed queen christina of sweden was ostracised
by society - only after descartes finished educating her;
and indeed to most people a little bit of sloth
equates to an amputation of some sort -
yet only with the x-files' season 2 episode 2
i've learned of the effects of prolonged alcohol
"misuse", that little boxing match in my liver?
it's not a pain as such, it's actually a hardening
of soft tissue - with prolonged alcohol exposure
soft tissue organs harden, notably the liver -
and it's not a pain, it's a hardening.
but indeed queen christina of sweden was ostracised
by her tier of socialites - i'm glad diogenes
didn't get to her, but then again a bit of cloth
goes a long way this far north -
yet unlike the encounter with napoleon by hegel
diogenes' encounter with alexander lasted longer -
which tells you the old method does no service
to a little bit of material accumulation -
but perhaps the acumen was briefer when you were
ably living in a barrel - and to think, as only
that being the sole expression, not so much
a body without organs as stated in the thesis
of anti-oedipus by deleuze and guattari -
a consideration for a body without limbs - prior
to a footprint an imprint on the mind -
carelessly now, a diarrhoea of narration -
how rare to find it - perhaps this idea of epic
poetry is a default of writing per se -
with this my whatever numbered entry i seize
to find escape in it - a lack of ambition -
a loss of spontaneity that's a demanded mechanisation -
by volume, by inaneness - to reach a single
technique accumulative zenith, and then back
into the ploughing, rustic scenery and the
never-bored animals - i rather forget such escapades -
and there i was dreaming of a grand
runic exploration - some imitable game -
some scenic routes - yet again -
Purcy Flaherty Jan 2018
Initially she began contacting me over the course of a year or so and increasingly over the last few months she started visiting me, helping me, caring for me and occasionally employing me in different ways.

She’d just had a break up a few weeks before, explaining that things hadn’t been right in the relationship for some time!

She presents herself as respectful, thoughtful, gentle, kind and considerate and after what seemed to be a very short length of time; unexpectedly declared that she had feelings for me; regarding love, admiration, desire and some other adventures.

She then began to bombarded me with love talk; occupying around 70% of my time gaining my trust, I was swept off my feet; she took a great deal of interest in me, learning everything about me, what I liked, where I would go, always asking what I was thinking feeling, how she could help and I was flattered and she was charming, though a little awkward at times.

As our friendship grew she started sharing her back story, including some tragic life experiences; she vilified her past lovers, and ex-partners and branded them as crazy, or bitter liars and troubled souls; slowly gaining my sympathy, whilst securing my allegiance, and keeping me on side; keeping me close; drawing on my compassion loyalty & trust!

During intimate moments she would sometimes seem a little awkward, false, over enthusiastic or a little insincere, and I made allowances for this given my knowledge of her backstory.
Re: (tragic events & experiences)

She began to choose and buy me clothes; outfits, take me shopping, gradually altering my outward image and appearance.

She introduced me to her friends; but was careful to keep me and them at arms-length, I realise (((Now))) that she was building an alternative profile of me in their minds and that the people she introduced to me rarely exhibited the behaviors or characteristic that I was led to expect.

She soon started to embroil me in her own rituals and compulsive behavior's, explaining that tasks needed to be performing in very specific ways to prevent her getting distressed!

She made many promises : ‘The hook’ It was my expectation i.e. waiting for some of those promises to materialise, that kept me hanging on the hook; As this increased her control and I think exited her too.
(Next to none of her promises came to fruition!)

She gradually had a hand in almost every aspect of my life i.e. my home, my work, my friends, family, my finances, the way I dressed, the food I ate and many other things besides, much of which I didn’t realise until our relationship was finally over. and I was left empty.
(In every way)

She often took immense pleasure in duping, individuals or companies out of something through theft, shoplifting, or getting something for nothing, a profiteer, a chancer!

To question or challenge her authority would result in seeing her facade slip and watch her decline into meltdown. It's at that point, she would lose composure, and I would see her irrationality come to the fore; revealing the real person underneath; childish, contrived and very fragile; It’s as if control is the glue that holds her together, without it she just falls apart, during this time she can’t be consoled and it’s impossible to calm this escalating situation; in fact; at this point that she would attempt to regain control by ‘gas-lighting’ me, she would distort the truth; re: who said what; in an attempt to damage my self-esteem, to make me question my own mind, my words, my intention and any actions, apportioning blame, pointing fingers, making me feel guilty, use rejection, or using hurt, sorrow, tears, shame and even threaten liable or legal action, and then use *** to pacify or regain control over me and my actions.

These episodes would appear often; though irregular and without provocation, I would always be deemed at fault!
I found silent compliance was less stressful than engaging in discussion.    

She never took responsibility or made any apologies for her conduct.

She would set me tasks, and go out a lot, and lie or bend the truth, as to where she had been; I never once challenged this behaviour!

When the relationship was finally deemed over; I was both devastated and relieved.

I began to see my new position in the cycle; as she immediately begin to vilify me in order to give credence to her new backstory, I felt very confused, disorientated and emotionally fraught, shell shocked! questioning, how much of our relationship was true and how much was a lie? For everything I thought I knew was now knitted together with a very complex web of loyalties, lies and half-truths.

Her pattern of repetitive and controlling behaviors have seemingly remained unchanging throughout all her relationships;
(I was covertly contacted by many of her previous partners and various other casualties since leaving her, and they offered shared many familiar experiences.

Within two weeks of being apart (ostracised) she informed me that she had fallen in love (And that my replacement) some-one she admires, someone kept just within the circle, a mutual acquaintance and she even thanked me for bringing them together.

My assumption is that: The grooming of her new lover will have commenced some time ago; her M.O. (Her pattern of behaviors, her techniques have remained fixed.)

She’s incredibly self-conscious, her biggest fear is that other people will find out about her true demeanour, as her image and appearance is everything to her. She's afraid that people will shun her for being so very, very different.
She is a wolf, that’s not to say she is a malevolent creature par-say; she is awesome, beautiful and beguiling in many ways, but you don’t want to be pray.

Full circle:
I too have joined the ranks of the discredited; labelled a liar, troubled, bitter and crazy; she contacted members of my, family, friends and some fellow musicians; and a few folks shared some of these conversations accusations with me.)
I suspect that she may even attempt to vilify me with authorities or threaten some form of legal action; as she has to other lovers in the past.

Despite everything I'm still drawn to her charismatic boldness, her awkward ****** power, her intelligence, and so…I have blocked all means of contact to curtail my own almost pathological interest, for despite everything that’s transpired, her lies, her infidelity, her deceit and appalling behaviour, I'm still drawn, intrigued, bewitched, beguiled by the person hiding underneath the façade.

Now the dust has finally settled; I’ve somehow remained sound of mind.

I don’t feel guilty or loyalty anymore; I’m aware that I’ve been manipulated into thinking and acting in ways that don’t truly represent my character; and that I’m just one of many people seduced by a sociopath; (((another natural human variant)) a person devoid of empathy for others, an entity that’s developed a narrow set of skills and mirroring behaviors, that allows her to blend into mainstream society in order to feel safe, secure and in control.

She would have preferred to keep me hanging on, like many other dependents, adding me to the hareem; a bank of beguiled individuals that she occasionally calls upon to perform simple tasks, or perhaps to monitor and re-assess her clever handwork.

The last time we met she opened with nervous politeness and finished with pleasure and veiled cruelty.
I left feeling drained, uncomfortable and quite fazed.

I’ve written this diary account to help further understand what had transpired during this complicated relationship.
(I’ve published it here with no names, because I think it’s worth understanding, it’s not a warning or a vengeful act.

In any case, Her next lover will ignore any pre-warnings as just bitter ramblings, as most individuals are driven by the natural pursuit of love, which consists of caring intellectual loyalty, *** and romance rather than following advice of some seemingly bitter ex. ( And rightfully so)

Good kind or exciting people further enhance the image and status of a sociopath and they will orbit your small shiny star, tapping into your  valuable energy before  slingshotting into a larger, more attractive orbit of a lager star.
Sadly love, *** and desire is simply a tool for manipulation and gain, it's all about prestige.

I wish her well, like every creature.

Expect high drama.
She loves to watch you come unstuck
nicholas ripley Mar 2010
I’m walking up hilltop, two men pass, one says,
'**** the French, they never have the bottle for a fight’.

To have got here they passed the old Cathedral.
Did they glimpse it as a relic - exploded by incendiary,
ostracised in dubiety, seen fit to feature
only in the focus and snap of foreign tourists?

It is two days before Ramadan. Tonight Tornados
will tear between the Euphrates and Tigris
to illuminate Babylon... live on CNN.

At the top of the hill I pause,
staring at stained glass fragments
still suspended in the apex of frames
and view snacking office workers,
seated upon the benches that have replaced the pews.
(C) Nicholas Ripley December 1998
Phoebe Caitlin Aug 2013
Suspicious milk
There when I got home
In a tub
Surrounded by water
Or milk blood
Ostracised from the fridge
Left alone to die
Why?
Did you commit milk atrocities?
****** innocent milk bottles?
Or maybe you're a secret agent
The names skimmed
Semi-skimmed
He's like the FBI in your fridge!
He's like the CIA on your cereal!
He's like the MI5 for your cookies!
Did you get all that
Full fat?
After those Oreos!
With their twisting
Licking
Dunking
Dunking their souls into the blood of our young
Or maybe not
Cow juice, alone on the breakfast bar
Not that far
Milk on the sill, defrosting.
Watching.
Riptide Dec 2014
I've been so lonely;
My body now enjoys the feeling of being only.
It's almost like my soul has become numb
And it don't care no'more
Because this love that you promised me
Doesn't seem to exist at all
And apparently there's a fee;
I get to watch what it feels like to belong
While I sit amongst everyone
and yet feel alone.
Are you a cat or bird,
devil or saint?
Villain and victim, dichotic romantic,
bruised and beaten, ostracised.
Bruised and beaten, demonised.
A willow bending against cruel fashion's wind.

A thousand storms of impotent hate,
jealousies and malignant complaints.
Rain like sonnets before the deaf!
As your gifts are pearl before swine.

And yet thy brow is regal still.
The profile of a demon prince -
no matter what shape taketh the face.
Be thou Quasimodo or Adonis by fate.
Whose smile has lit a thousand candles
in thankless, bitter hearts,
and fires in the hearths of freaks
who need but a spark to break the leash.

Or art thou Prince of Cats?
Yearning for the freedom to roam, to hunt.
Seeking pleasure, his mistresses pats.
The enemy of closed doors and cold paws.

Or could thou be a bird?
Clipped wings, a gilded cage,
whose song can only go so far.
If not let to glide into the night, to rise,
to greet the dawn with bleary, satisfied eyes.
Of one who has been given the chance to soar!
Or else to wilt, and yowl no more.
Of many a poet and musician I have known.
The denigration of western society has been slowly been created by ourselves, we are the cog within the machinery. Anonymously we have in turn allowed ourselves to become part of the problem. We are silenced by those who had the loudest mouths who really say nothing at all. We live in awe of respect for those who have the power to change the world but do not. Though we as the majority have the power to do so, but have no self-belief. We are innately bound to this oppressive weakened society where capitalism and consumerism have become our churches and our footballers and celebrities are our saints. Never could they sin as bad as your brother or your sister, yet you would pay some media company to know it all, to see that their problems are your problems, that you are part of their world, that you secretly yearn for a place in this world that is more than what you have accepted. Because yes, you accepted this life. You accept this is the way life is, that you should suffer and be manipulated by greed and power. And to think how frustrating that is, that you accepted this, and however much you hate it, you feel powerless to do anything about it.

And what of love and passion? Even altruism has become anti-altruistic “he/she’s only doing it for the fame/power/money";  it quickly becomes a commodity. Where are the true lovers, the true passionate keepers of dreams and firer of fireworks? They are ostracised by society. They work in jobs we class as thankless tasks. They keep close company with people of their own kind however they are our key to being happier, they love equally and fully. They represent what many of us spurn but secretly wish to be or what we want. Freedom to act, to be individual, ‘to break free from the chains that bind us’. We are constrained by a secret institution, where ‘they’ are our gods. We live by their rules. It is in our minds. Positive mental attitude never hurt anyone, only fear and fear of fear, leading to hurt, anger, control has always been consistent when looking at manic depressive societies – when the only time we get truly excited is when a major chain store brand has a major boxing day sale.

Oh to think we don’t belong to anyone – we can actually be who we want to be, how freeing is that? To think that we don’t need to find love in the arms of another, to be loved is to be fulfilled. Really? What about the love for yourself? You can only be loved as your capacity is to love yourself, because that is how you will understand love to be.How to feel that free and to be in love and to be loved - What a freedom. Loneliness is a evil of the mind, bore by love stories created by the media, that we need to find our soul mate, someone to live with forever; to try to have that perfect relationship, and that someone with whom we are compatible with – when why not just be, be loved, love in return, **** happens. We break, we fall, we get back up, we are not alone, we can turn around and life be changed in an instance. But we never stop being. Accept who you are. Because this is enough. There is no check list. How you are perceived does not mean you are defined by just this. Don’t be defined by your dictionary term. You are loved. You are wanted. You are amazing and beautiful in your own right.
We are born, we die, this is what we are sure of; inbetween is the path that you make. So make it a good one. Smile more, because you really are beautiful when you do so.
howard brace Apr 2011
Borne on waves of solar wind
the void of space he navigates
ostracised, sails the sky
searching the night with polarised eyes.

With beckoning gaze, his look forlorn
watching the world float in space
off-ground-tigs plays he alone
for has no friends to call his own.

Muddy puddles and oceans reflect
mellow cheese, veined with blue
marred complexion, acne faced
through scudding clouds, plays peek-a-boo.

As old as time, a crescent smile
grinning the grin of a Cheshire cat
a melon slice, a boomarang
thrown into orbit, returns again.

Without our friend where would we be
the darkest nights through eternity
no tide to pull the ocean blue
no romance, for me or you.

...   ...   ...
Pagan Paul Mar 2017
.
There is a man
     with only one hand,
in the 3rd eye of Buddha
     he learnt about clapping.

There is a woman
     with only one heart,
in the land ruled by men
     she retained her compassion.

There is a man
     with only one eye,
in the land of the blind
     he was ostracised.

There is a mind
     with only one thought,
in the land of the banal
     it treasures imagination.



© Pagan Paul (19/10/16)
.
Old Poem
PPx
.
Scarlet Niamh Jan 2017
I feel unsafe now, even though I'm not
in that place. He really does trump them all,
doesn't he - the bigots and fascists,
homophobes and racists alike. He is
going to lead them and unite his country
in hatred against us. We are becoming
afraid again, the lost and the ostracised,
so we will hide from the people who will
reverse our progression into the light and
lock us in the darkness of a conservative
world. But it will not be enough. They will
find us, they will shame us and they will neglect
us, sending us back to the fear and danger
of being free. They will tear our wings from
our backs and leave us to die, bloodied and
trampled, in the dust that is settling
on our "freedom".
~~ There is a war brooding on the horizon which I feel settling inside me. ~~
Fish The Pig Nov 2014
So what do you think of me?
You think I don't try?
well I try
oh my god do I try
do I cry
always lie,
you think I'm reclusive
                         elusive
                         aloof
                 and kloof
You think I like it that way,
solitude every day,
think I don't care to talk
or catchup to you and walk
you think there's a reason
I don't and haven't socialized,
well It's because I'm being terrorized.
You can't see it
not from where you sit
step in my shoes
feel what it's like to lose
see the earth on fire
trapped on a spire
a hero holding arms out
too petrified to jump or shout,
you know where safety lies
but black rain falls from black skies
and you're not sure if those arms are for you
or another in need of rescue too.
So hear what it's like
with nowhere to hike
overcome by a thousand eternal flame
that make you think you're to blame
that you feel this way because you set the fire
it got out of control only growing higher,
you feel ostracised and unwanted,
hated ugly and shameful and jaunted.
You live in fear
it's all your fault,
growth maturity and experiences put on halt,
post traumatic stress
a scared, shameful child and nothing less.

So what do you think of me?
think I don't try
I don't care
nothing behind my blank stare,
well there's everything behind these eyes;
apocalypse covered in flies
bruises and scars
heart to the stars
a longing shiver
pristine liver
paranoia and neglect
depression can't forget
a pig reflect
insignificant insect
-So what do you think of me,
look and tell me what you see,
and for you I can guarantee,
nothing is as it should be.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2016
.oh i don't know, why would i have a "problem" with christianity... where and whence it went into the new lands like some conquering reject... i'm all still hot & bothered that so few people read the counter mainstream: **** me... the atom bomb didn't wake them up, why would the discovery of the nag hammadi library wake them up? st. thomas' gospel: like... jesus playing chinese whispers with thomas, who wrote, after hey'zeus took him aside, told him something, upon returning to the other disciples they inquired, and thomas replied: if i told you what he told me, you'd stone me... back in hey'zeus' time... sure... social ostracism: b'ah b'ah black sheep says: wolf! the clown cries, the theatre burns down and everyone enjoys a night out... back to basics i guess: we're not talking about outright social ostracism... we're talking about psychological ostracicism: is it me... or has cogitans per se reached a zenith when it was to tickle the traits of calustrophobia... it's no longer ego cogito... it's... ego cogito: superego noose quasi- / semi- "thinking" and the unconscious id aspect of ego... whenever attached to "thought": short-circuits and goes into an epileptic spasm of: what to do?! what to do?! what to do?! *******: you have your new freudian pseudo christian trinity: mental gymnastics provided by the israeli co-op to teach you to count pythagoras via spaghetti curly-whirly... fun! fun fun fun! i once lived alone in my head, having only one body... now i have one body, but many paranomal "telepathic" insurgents living with me... who do not concern themselves with the concept of space... ego, head, toe, does it really matter whether a manicure is to be exacted? i don't like smoke, i don't like mirrors: i rather melt in the fire... i am the son, i am the heir... of a shyness that is criminally ******... probably the best lyrics in the world... i am human and i need to be loved, just like everybody else does... magic, par excellence... please... jesus basish died when it left europe, now a h'american resurgence... happy people happy sheep go to sleep without question... happiness is an act of levitation in terms of existentialism... and when it shatters... it's not a nervous breakdown... even on the scale of the individual... the fall of the tower of babel comes with the fifth horseman of the apocalypse... riding a ******* unicorn... well... he's actually the sixth... the fifth is already riding... ha ha... horseman... he's riding a donkey to the site of execution... who needs drungs when you can measure what the co-op convenience stores are selling as a liter of whiskey... they're actually selling 1.425 liters of whiskey... i measured the sloppy herring slitherings and salmon high jumps... see... the atom bomb was dropped... but the mainstream christian never mention my angst... the nag hammadi library is never mentioned... why isn't the unearthing of the nag hammadi library never mentioned? the hebrews are all over the discovery of the dead sea scrolls, their dissociation simulated with their 2000 year old the penance for unrightfully sentencing the prophet isaiah to be cut in half... and he was a courtesan (isaiah): so what?! did he speak truly? 2000 years of jewish history... summed up by the unjust killing of the prophet isaiah... lesson learned... the lawful killing of hey'zeus: well, 2000 years of masochism of willing converts to "appease" the god: coincidental shared "circumstances"... why am i not a christian? if love is what is and what is the cross: sorry... can i decline having a fetish for a latex ******* *** fantasy?! or... you know that story of the perverted dog? the one that is so ***** is latches onto your leg and starts to ******* you, imitating the **** of you with a curled hand to propose the **** itch-tight simulation? oh no... we hide the socially ostracised... so we wheeled out the retards for full display... and monger... the critique has become elevated... it's harder to pick-out the knitty-picky intentions of people who want to differentiate before the grand c.c.t.v. altar of the omni-unus watching via the terms: proselyte... pharisee... sadducee... baptist mongrel presbyterian... honestly... spew me all this post-atom-bomb *******... oblivious regarding the nag hammadi library... mainstream h'american christianity: honestly, with this amount of reading even atheism doesn't suffice! atheism doesn't suffice! the antithesis yet to be explored by the masses is my curriculum motus... mea motus vitae! h'america is yesterday... yesterday being late 90s early 00s... now it's a quasi-balkan paranormal export cultural affair of tarantula bit-frames of former convo... it's like watching a regurgitating boa constrictor snake rather than an ingesting boa constrictor with 2 weeks spare of waiting in smog for the next meal... why didn't i follow the catholic bureucracy and be confirmed? well... why don't mainstream h'american "christians" come out and say: yes, the emergence of the nag hammadi library is problematic for us... it's sure as **** problematic for me... and what will come later, and reach the mainstream... with be the sort of explanation associated to the clarity of depiction of a human face, as close as picasso came "close" within the framework of cubism... hellish contortions and exponential deviations... imagine how hellish the human face is depicted in cubism... now imagine that same face smiling: within cubism.

there you have it, automated phone service,
the pinnacle of the national health service,
the surgery got rated 1.7* (stars),
1 for the fact they exist, and 0.7 for the service
they provide; god almighty i hope you
don't fall ill in england these days,
it's like trying to buy a ******* turnip at
the butchers or fishmongers...
dial the number... a robot answers
'hello, thank you for calling the north street
medical centre... please note that we do
not deal with repeat prescriptions over the
telephone; please press 1 to book or cancel
a triage appointment; press 2 if you have a
query concerning a prescription...'
2...
'thank you, if you have an urgent query
concerning your prescription please press
0 to speak to a receptionist...'
0...
'hello, welcome to north street medical care
multiple choice questionnaire...'
oh for ****'s sake...
what now?
when was the battle of Hastings?!
1066                    yesterday               mm, maybe tomorrow?!
there i am with a simple need, just write
the ****** prescription and i'll be off,
it's not like i'm asking you to do 7 hours of surgery on me;
no wonder they got 1.7 stars...
there are more receptionists than actual doctors:
ooh spooky spooky ****** doo in the bag too,
ooh look at me, i am Microsoft word proficient,
i'm the cream of the crop... fair enough,
and i'm a ventriloquist in my spare time -
pour me a pint while you're at it,
my throat's dry from all the cursing...
because why the hell do you even have a contact
number for a surgery... if it just cuts you off?!
might as well return to the antiquity of using my
legs and seeing you face to face,
because that's what i seem to have to do...
go for a walk, come back with some poor somali
girl who walked 5 miles for a bucket of water.
Raj Arumugam Sep 2012
I wander now
in the wilderness, in the woods
on deserted paths between villages
greeted by strangers
welcomed by humble folk
but welcomed at no Lord’s castle
rejected by Masters and Authorities
shunned by those in Position, in Step
ostracised and kept in the distance by Establishment

the lonely all-embracing tree
offers me shade
the narrow cave
accepts me in the night
a kind wife and her man
offer me part of the meal
they have prepared for their children

the Order harries me on
I have to keep moving
And nothing in my past
condemns me in the present
nor does it save me

All that I’ve learned
is become my burden
All that I’ve loved
I’ve grown to hate
Of my own life
I’ve made my straitjacket
and in my footsteps you read
The Sutra of the Outsider
Riptide Apr 2015
With every breath
I feel the kryptonite continue to smother my heart
Slowly but surely
In this miracle
This is my part
The ostracised great kid
It is then that you're at your pinnacle

You've always been my hero
But you're the first
The first hero I know
To hurt your followers
Except I've always been your only follower

Since the day you took my hand
And walked me through the forest, tight gripped
When we got to the desert
It took it's scorching toll on you
And your grip got weak
You forgot that there was a child holding onto you with his life

Even though you trudge Along
I know you'll get to the end
And when you do
I hope you'll still love me when we reach the forests again

Even though your Monday-blue eyes look at me
And send me spiralling down into psychosis
All the way down
I'll send you gamma ray messages
Saying,
I'll always love you.
My hero
Alexis Apr 2014
Is there anyone
Who doesn't cut
In the middle of the night
And hides their scars
Underneath bracelets
And baggy sweaters
But feels sad, suicidal,
Crying in bed,
Losing hope in life?

Is there anyone
Who doesn't starve
Or force herself to puke
With a mind that
Condemns every bit of fat
But feels
Insecure,
Thinks herself as ugly?

Is there anyone
Who isn't ostracised,
Mocked, bullied,
Betrayed
But still feels alone,
Left out,
Out of place?

Is there anyone
Who's neither here
Nor there?

Is there anyone else
Like me?
Is there?
Lunar Jun 2021
When the pressure rises and the questioning blares
When the assumptions fly and the fear of being ostracised glares
When the fear of loneliness comes into play
Or the possibility of failure that comes to stay
The risk of not being able to blame anyone but you
The guilt and ‘told you so’ that will ensue
Will it overweigh your desire to be free
And overwhelm your desire to be a wolf among sheep
Will it crush your dreams of being unique
I wonder which path will you seek
The truth that we thought was the truth
fell like the pack of lies that it was and
the odds that we thought were even,
were even more crooked than that.

So we dropped off the radar
and went under the grid and
slid off the end of the rainbow.

Same thing there
gold everywhere
and diamonds that
coloured our eyes.

In the morning after the morning last night
still tight with the alcohol, coke and some Demerol
we glued back the curtains to look at the sky,
it was raining.

And I know it always rains in February,
but something told me that
Summer was on the way.

Being criticised constantly
and ostracised eventually
September seemed like a good
time to go

but

as it's dry now
think I'll try now
to rejoin the
hive,
staying alive is easy
it's the living
that's hard.
Mission Impossible

Your mission should you choose to accept it?
May be tougher than total disease eradicated
Slower than abolition of third word poverty
No pinnacle as high as a career in true poetry

You will be deprived of all satellite navigation
Ostracised b friends n fair weather neighbours
Unarmed just words are your feeble protection
Your existence denied , should they ever get u

Let me warn you my brave poet friend
Take heed, you may think it no problem
Write all this free verse indeed w’ a vengeance
But once your outside defending fair maidens

Vanity n pride are left behind at your station
Your mind be clogged with a million quotations
This text , it destructs thru your own hesitation
Poet laureate you are not in my estimation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip. 1st November 2018.
A poem in free verse
Big Virge Sep 2021
So What Really Is WISE...
In These CRAZY Times... ?!?
  
Because It...
DOESN’T Seem Wise...
To Now Speak Your Mind...
If You’re The Type...
Who Thinks Outside...
of The Mainstream Box...
  
And Dares To Speak of Blood Clots... !!!
  
Or of... ADVERSE Affects... !!!
Because It Seems Most Heads...
Will Now Get... UPSET... !!!
  
If What You Stress...
Is To... Take A Sec..........
  
BEFORE You Accept...
A Jab To Protect...
Yourself From What’s Said...
To Be Causing Deaths...
By World Governments...
Who Now Seem HELL BENT...
  
On FORCING Vaccines...
On... EVERYBODY... !!!
  
Because of This Disease...
That’s Now Causing Distress...
... Across CONTINENTS... !!!
  
But I Digress...
  
Is It Really Wise...
To Believe Headlines...
That Seem To Define...
That We’ll All Be Fine...
  
If We... VACCINATE... !!!
And Choose To Replace...
Freedom of Choice...
With Losing Our Voice...
  
To Disagree...  
With The Use of Vaccines...
  
Is It Wise To Pick Fights...
With Those Now Inclined...
To Toe The Line...
of... New Guidelines... ?!?
  
That Keep Getting Changed...
Pretty Much EVERY DAY... !?!
  
One Day They Say...
You Should Walk This Way...
But Then Tell You To WAIT...
The Very NEXT Day... ?!?
  
Because of Viral Strains...
RISING Once Again... !!!
  
Doesn’t That Seem STRANGE... ?!?
  
Is It Wise To Believe...
What The Media Feeds...
About World Problems...
And What Really Goes On...
In Times Like These...
Where Controls Now Seem...
To Be Being INCREASED... !?!
  
Is It Wise To Speak...
If You DON'T Agree...
With The People Who Lead...
... Our Societies...
  
Because Unless Your One...
of The Millionaires Club...
  
It Now Doesn’t Seem Like...
Your Opinions Will Fly...
And You May Well Find...
Yourself... Ostracised...
  
If You Don’t Comply...
With What Your Told...
By Those Who Control... !!!
  
Is It Wise To Think...
That You KNOW EVERYTHING... ?!?
  
Well Clearly... NOT... !!!
  
When You’re NOT A Part...
of Government Plots...
That Are Those That Chart...
A Whole NEW PATH...
  
Where We’re Now Bound...
By Infection Sounds...
  
Cos’ They’re On The Rise... !!!
Yes They’re ON THE RISE... !!!
  
" So Get IMMUNISED !  
And You’ll Be Fine ! "
  
Is The Line On REWIND...
On Mainstream Headlines... !!!
  
But That’s NOT Quite Right...
When These Pharma Guys...
Can’t Seem To Decide...
If What They Inject...
Will FULLY PROTECT...
  
And Stop You From Getting...
Infected... AGAIN... ?!?
  
So Does It Really Make Sense...
Or... Is It Wise... ?!?
  
To Stand In Line...
And Then Take A Shot...
If You Feel Fine...
And Have NOT Got...
Any Health Issues... ?!?
  
And What of Our YOUTH...
Is It Wise To ASSUME...
That They Need Shots TOO...
If They’ve Got... NO FLU... ?!?
  
I Don’t Have A Clue... ???
But When You Think It Through...
  
Do All These Moves...
Seem WISE To You... ?!?
  
It’s A Time To Be WISE...
I Think You’ll Find...
  
But If You Think...
It’s Wise To Submit...
To Media Scripts...
Then Do Your Thing...
And Get Injected... !!!
  
But Recognise...
That It Could Be Your Life...
That You’re Putting On The Line... ?!?
  
So I’ll Ask This Question...
Just... One More Time... !!!
  
When It Comes To Our Lives...
And Controls Now Imposed...
By Government Tribes...
Who Are Known To Contrive...
And Then Hide Behind...
A WHOLE WORLD of LiES... !!!
  
When It Comes To The Things...
That They CLAIM To Be RIGHT...
  
When You Take Time To THINK...
About Doing What It Is...
  
That They Are DEMANDING... !!!
  
My Question Is THIS....
  
“ Do You Think It’s Wise ?!? “...
A fair and reasonable question for these days and times....
Julian Delia Sep 2018
Frozen in place I stood,
A deer caught in a hunter’s crosshair.
I never thought you would,
But you did; you killed me, right there.

I am angry at myself, most of all;
For staying when I should have left,
For not dodging the bullet and taking the fall.
Twice now, I found myself broken;
Carelessly adrift in life,
Like a raft on the ocean.
Too much pain this chest,
These monsters in my head
Feel like an obstacle I cannot best.

I don’t just want to be loved;
I want us all to love and understand one another.
‘It’s not possible, we’re too different,’
Those who wish to rebuttal will answer.
No, that is the distant path you chose,
I choose to keep my humanity close.

And yet, I cannot stop the terrifying flashbacks.
You made me feel like a train veering off its tracks.
Like a bridge that leads to a precipice,
Nothing but a cold, dark abyss.
Meet the millennials -
The most criticised generation,
Suffering from emotional stagnation,
Raised on a steady diet of instant gratification.

‘What do you want, then?’
I want us to feel the soil with our bare feet.
To associate freely with others we meet,
Not bow down to the pretension of the elite.
To embrace our soul,
Not shun it and drive it into a locked room;
To retrace our role,
Not simply run our life’s course to its doom.

We are being led astray,
Our hopes and dreams hidden away.
We have no room for thought, little to say,
For few want to go out of their way.
No criticism, no originality -
No witticism, no vitality.
We are criticised for criticising,
And we are ostracised when we act defying.

We are the paralysed;
Our fears leave us immobilised,
Anxiety and depression,
Killing variety of expression.
We languish in prisons
That we build for ourselves in our own head;
We have nightmarish visions,
Like a guild of the living dead.
A re-write of another failed poetryfoundation submission, because **** those guys.
Julian Delia Apr 2018
Why?
Why does the homeless man starve?
Why am I stuck, hungry and alone
In this niche I’m trying to carve?

Why?
Why does the world avoid acknowledging reason?
Why is the thinker ostracised,
Nay, persecuted, like a rebel hung for treason?

Why?
Why does the neurotic partner abuse the other?
Why do we lose our ****
And become violent like a wife-beating, drunken father?

Why?
Why do we poison ourselves?
Why do we smoke, snort, shoot up and drink?
Why do we abuse our temple,
Like a supernova’s collapse, on the brink
Of wiping out us
And everything around us.

If I had to answer
All of these burning questions
I could do so with one stroke,
No concessions;
We are purposeless and disconnected.
We are infected,
A sickness that eats one on the inside
Like an ingestion of bisulphide –
This sickness I speak of
Is a sickness of the mind and the heart;
It is the reason for dying art
The reason everything feels
Like we’re on our way to hell on an express cart.

This greed, this marauder of souls
Swallowing us all, we become
Sentient, wandering, black holes
Destined
To consume everything.
Trying to fill up the void
The one on the inside,
The one that has destroyed
Our sense of communal love.

This anxiety, this harbinger of malevolence
Even in benevolence
It finds a way to ruin things.
It can befall even the greatest of all,
No one is immune, not even kings.
Anxiety
Is the culmination of our fears
It is a beast that will leave you in tears
It is rooted
In our fear of the unknown
This terror
Of setting out, alone.

Alone, we are afraid.
Greed
Is easier to fulfil
It is far easier
To harbour ill will
To shoot and ****
To hunt down, to chase the thrill
Of feeling superior.

Together?
Together,
Our planet, our lives,
Everything can be better.
Well, am I wrong?
kimin May 2018
mermaid


i was happy,
my soul intoxicated euphorically
i get to talk to you, get to see you smile
my mind
It etched portraits of us
every sadness in me,
my mind ostracised
just by seeing your tall figure.
that one fight, that one fault.
i regret it till this day,
nothing was the same after that,
i wish i could swim away from this,
make you forget,
a tale of mermaid being turned to bubbles,
that's what I imagined.
I hurt you, i disappointed you.
I should turn to sea bubbles, popped when being touched,
soft and harmless,
that way,  i know
I won't hurt you,  
because everytime i try to carress you,
smile definitely paints on your face
i disappear,
but with your smile
captured on my last glance.

- kimin
to him
Olivia Kent May 2014
My my, how things change in a year,
from going from no-one to one,
you,
Yes,
You, who I hold dear,
You are stuck between my teeth,
Fixed in my eyes,
You're making me weak,
My strength you're depleting,
I'm fading away,
Too quickly,
I'm groping,
Ostracised by a phantom,
He is real,
he hides inside my head,
He really is there,
He's lucky,
So lucky that I can bother to find the time,
to waste on one so dismal,
and so dark,
and then I remember times in the park,
hopping on stepping stones,
while hiding his bottle in my coat,
He's getting rather frisky,
As I hold onto his whisky,
Protecting his heart of gold,
inside my summer jacket,
You're not allowed to drink outdoors,
all  of his assets hidden under my clothes!
(C) Livvi
Bryant May 2018
Classic classroom with plastic juices
It’s never safe and sound here cause  
The bar’s set in the ground.
Since I started I felt ostracised
Left in the corner I would criticize
The giants in the sky.

So time flies by
As my friends get high
On legal drugs handed out for free.
I ride by with a breeze.
With this luck I could buy a group of escorts with STDs.

Pointless ointment
Rubbing wounds that you created.
Hold on to that statement.
Do you hear yourself?
You’re suffocating!
Give yourself a reason to wake up just one more day!
Little by little we can change reality.
But first, we need to get off this island
So sailing out to sea, let’s leave.
Oliver Philip Nov 2018
2007
Look. ( those with eyes to see)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Look alive this day could be your last.
Look not a gift horse in the mouth.
Look not blue if happy times are past
Look through rosy glasses if in doubt.
Look in back,you’ll turn to pillared salt
Look one direction n paddle other way.
Look daggers at the man who is at fault
Look for that needle in a stack of hay.
Look,behold your words. Speak your mind
                       TODAY.
Written by Philip
Posted 30/10/2018.


2007 June 5th.  

Mission Impossible

Your mission should you choose to accept it?
May be tougher than total disease eradicated
Slower than abolition of third word poverty
No pinnacle as high as a career in true poetry

You will be deprived of all satellite navigation
Ostracised b friends n fair weather neighbours
Unarmed just words are your feeble protection
Your existence denied , should they ever get u

Let me warn you my brave poet friend
Take heed, you may think it no problem
Write all this free verse indeed w’ a vengeance
But once your outside defending fair maidens

Vanity n pride are left behind at your station
Your mind be clogged with a million quotations
This text , it destructs thru your own hesitation
Poet laureate you are not in my estimation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip. 1st November 2018.
lol you have a mission impossible
Big Virge Sep 2021
So Life As We Know It’s...
Now Subject To COVID... !?!

COVID This COVID That...
Vaccinate Trace And Track...

Distortion of Facts... !!!
For A Lifestyle That’s WHACK...

" Oh But It’s NOT That Bad ! "

Say The New Sheople’ Packs...

Get Your New Passport Here... !!!
Get Your New Passport Here... !!!

No Passport Oh DEAR... !!!

Well You’d Better Adhere...
Or You Just Won’t Be Cleared...

To Travel Or Handle...
A Beer Or A Snapple...

Your Life As You Know It’s...
Now Subject To COVID... !!!

And NO They’re NOT JOKING...
These Government Jokers... !!!

Because Their New Potion...
Is Feeding The Notion...
That COVID KILLS Quotas...
Like Variants Growing...
Across The Worlds Oceans... !!!

From Asia To London...
This Covid KEEPS Coming...
And Has People Running...

To Get Their Injections...
To STOP Covid Spreading... !!!

So Life As You Know It...
Now Has A New Heading...
That Is OVERBEARING... !!!

VACCINES Are The KEY...
To You Now Being FREE...
To SEE Your Family...
And Of Course MAKE MONEY...
To Feed... Economies... !!!

Whilst Freedom of Speech...
Will Be LOST And IMPEACHED...
Like World Leaders Should Be... !!!

Come And Get Your Vaccines... !!!
Come And Get Your Vaccines... !!!

Otherwise You Will Be...
Ostracised And Won’t See...
A Future Where You...
Will Be Free of This Flu... !!!

Because of This TYRANT...
Yes This CORONA VIRUS... !!!

Because It Is REAL...
So You WILL NEED To Shield...
Yourself From INFECTION...
And Being... REJECTED...
From Sheople Collectives...

Who Have Now Been Tested...
As Well As Protected... !!!

From What...
They Don’t Know... ?!?

But They’ve Got...
... A New Hope... !!!

That Will Free Them To Go...
Outside of Their Homes... !!!!!

But Will They Be IMMUNE...
From New Variants... NOPE... ?!?

But These Vaccines Are GOOD...
So YES Take One You SHOULD...

Is The Quote You Should Know...

Come And Get Your Vaccines... !!!
Come And Get Your Vaccines... !!!

FORGET... Conspiracies...
And These CRAZIES Theories... !!!

Come On Sheople Please...
Oh SORRY... We Mean PEOPLE... !!!

We’re REALLY NOT EVIL...
Like... BIG Companies... !!!

We Would NEVER DECEIVE...
We’re Not Government Fiends...
Who Are Driven By Greed...
And Controlling Money... !!!

We’re Just Making A Plea...
For You People To See...

That Your Getting Vaccines...
Will Bring Back NORMALCY...

So You’d Better Believe...
In Vaccine Policies... !!!

But Isn’t It Strange...
That These Vaccinations...
Are NOT All The SAME...
For Different Locations... ?!?

And Are Subject To Change...
According To... Age... ?!?

And They May NOT YET BE...
Something Mandatory...
But Why Has There Been...
This INCREDIBLE Need...
To Be Told CONSTANTLY...
That They're What We ALL Need... !?!

With Appeals On REPEAT...
On The News And TV’s... ?!?

Cos’ it’s Been FORCIBLY...
Pushed Into Our Psyches... !!!

Even When They Are Deemed...
To LACK EFFICACY...
That Will STOP This Disease...
From RETURNING QUICKLY... ?!?

Which Clearly Leads Me...
To Ask Questions Like These...

Why Are These Vaccines...
......... LIABILITY FREE.........
If They’ll Make Us HEALTHY... ?!?

You See Life As You Know It...
Is NOT What It Seems... !!!

It NEVER Has Been... !!!

But Come Get Your Vaccines...
That’s Right Get Your Vaccines... !!!

And What of These People...
Protesting On Streets...

Shouldn’t They Now Be Feeble...
And Dying Quickly... ?!?

NAH It Must Just Be ME...
Who Now Sees What I See... !!!

A Future Where Freedom’s...
CONTROLLED By Disease...
And Yes... COMPLICITY... !!!

To Any Resurgence...
of Vaccine Regimes... !!!

These Words That I’m Quoting...
... AREN’T Really FUNNY... !!!

If They Really Are REAL... !?!

If What They Are Showing...
Is That Something’s BROKEN...

That Will Cause An Implosion...
And Final... EROSION...

of Life...

.... “ As We Know It “....
The irony of this situation is becoming more and more apparent, and life as we know it, is being changed irreparably, forever.
Ryan O'Leary Jul 2019
I'm back, after a 45 year
absence, part fugitive,
part ostracised, part exile.

" A lot has changed, since
             you left "

As if it needed to be brought
to my attention.

It is what remains, is of interest
to me, because the only constant
in life is change. No points for that
I am afraid.

Becoming American and having
a nice day, with the same climate
as was here when I left, is not the
attraction one think's it is.

The Clock House is no longer
reading five past six, the iconic
time it read as I was parting.

A semaphoric symbolism, which
verbalised, meant, get to hell out
of here, a request, rather than a
friendly suggestion.

So, what's home if everything has
been altered, including myself, as
I no longer drink!

Hmmm let me think ??

Buckley Brothers on Tuckey Hill,
is still here, the last bastion of
the Mallow I remember.

An oasis for sentiment, nostalgia,
tradition, where one can still look,
for what, you are not expecting to
find, (time), the essence of our being,
where the lost protocol of our past,
is still practiced, politely.


Ps.

Buckley Brothers is a hardware
in Mallow County Cork Ireland.
If it could be Trip Advised, 5*.
nivek Oct 2016
Oh to be ostracised for being controversial
just once in a lifetime
nivek Oct 2019
small is beautiful
less can be more
truth is a balm, sometimes

big is humbling
too little can be overwhelming
plain talk can get you ostracised
cratylus Feb 2023
the first time was nerve-wracking. The second time you tried it again, it still hard and you need to calculate every word you say, but it still leaves you uneasy. The third time, the fourth time, the fifth time, til you lose count of how much you have done that, til it is become your habits, til it becomes parts of you.

There is something inside it that makes you feel relieved. Relieved that the other being doesn’t know your miserable truth. You feel relieved that your rotten side—the one that you never want to lose to, is actually not visible to others (or it is a fact, until they found out). You hide behind it, as if it will protect you from any disaster, as if it can save you from being ostracised.

But now that it becomes parts of you, you don’t know which sides of you is the truth. You don’t know who you really are. You lose yourself into it, missed it. The versions of yourself that you tell to other people are piled up, it becomes a mountain of characters you have played. Now you find it hard to find which one of it that you need to use to shield you for the right moment?

Until at the end, you find yourself gasping for air, as if the truth is strangling you from saying the truth, it chokes you, it pulls you hard that you can’t seem to be your honest self, the you before it all happened.

You have lose yourself from it.
I live alone in the spaces between other peoples’ lives,
where the light that does filter through looks dark,
like looking through a window in a building long abandoned,
where the hallways have gathered centuries of dust.
That’s where I reside, in the filaments of broken bulbs,
thrown away and forgotten as if I had never been.
Sometimes I crawl on hands and knees into view,
but I’m quickly glossed over by eyes that focus elsewhere.
I am a monster bricked up in a hidden room in a castle,
a beast that has been ostracised by those who never cared,
the fairy-tale where the beauty turned out to be an ogre,
and tried to drag me back to the hell from whence they came.
The scars I wear have been painted over by someone else’s pain,
and the hatred festered by someone who I thought had loved me
pushes me back into the spaces between other peoples’ lives.

— The End —