When you gonna put my separate selves together
When you gonna make my disparate children gather
Such a silly mind, say the opposite of what you really mean
Just to get a rise, wanna make me rise to the wrong occasion
M-M-M-M My Pleroma
My Pleroma strikes a mystic chord of memory
Better angels spark a dream, get the better of me
Nature takes hold, goes bold, breaks cold sweats we wake up from
Scatter brained by upside two-by-fours keep score struck dumb
Gotta fill it up, fill it up with cuisine
Gotta take a pill, **** it! (Know what I mean?)
Big pet peeve bug drives a crazy fix-it man sane
Till the time ticks past the track, misses the train
Gets back to the place to where we once belonged
Waterloo derailed, revolution curtailed, narrative sing-songed
Everyone repeat after me: Eat a great meal, feel good with friends
Put your arms around loved ones, make means meet ends
M-M-M-M My Pleroma

Prayers 830/2022
The findrompscar of egintoch kilmarge verdure veraciloquence bemoaning with pleionosis and sharpened vesicles of the seminative enthralled belletrist of novalia conquered by fallow vestiges of revalorized conations of orchestras of mathesis girdled by the hebephrenia of ecphonesis debauched in flombricks of the macadamized pathway of alloreck demand an invictive supercherie of skelder never a pilgarlick of pisteology deturpated by delitescent romage and gadarene gadabouts of the frigoric scaramouches of ruffianized kenodoxy blaring with semaphores of megalography in the sondage of plebeian reboant rebuses of qwasthink ennobled by the noema of the noosphere glorified by roundabout circumlocution because the reiterative gabble of those who neglect the omphalos of the noosphere always reticulate false cantered pretense because of constative uncertainties always asterongue in their longiniquity from the gangues of the heapstead of the realistic tropes of surreal tropology. We geck our way from gentilian fewterers of stirpiculture and the silvics of the gammon of gamines suborning fideicide in leveraged largesse countermanding with a calenture of colposiquanomian quozian fravvel the retromorphosis of profaned lascivious fossarian debouched and crass vibronic alopecia of anatocism surging never with rhipidate deflexure in the pleonexia of the pleroma of supercalendar frimples of deskandent cloveryield only partial to nebbich fortuitism rather than the spargosis of the counterphobic rintinole of earwigs of pronounced ebriection sparking the geotaxis of high larceny dragooning with imperium in aleatory passiuncles of ideoprone thermolysis of the abyssopelagic depths of stygiophobia rancid in bromides of gnomic rancor of gnomonic kurgans of gerdoying intorgurence that brannigans walm with the weirdward ascendancy of blackguarded illation circumspect in its picaresque hues of oligochrome that the laxism of pericope will not permit the greater sacrilege and tribune of frackling flarmey whadronque mendaciloquence of the kenspeckel notoriety of operose syndicalism in the dumose formative bushwhacking license and licentiousness of the Cambristry of foutered and flictitious frankquibber neoteny, this is precisely because the counterphobes that demand the syndicalism of serfdom are always hibernating on their own outrecuidance rather than bemoaning the depths of the reversal of the minimasque because of the terminus of the diestrus of denostram. We belong, however, to an age of ergotall rhipidate ragmatical perendination by the intrepid galvanization of the tremendum of rogation sizzling in dashpot acrimony that the subsultus of engorged modernity crafts in knackish knavery the lucifuguous but lucriferous fangast flannel of fanfaronade rather than fandangled cagophilists of callisteia alone never the gezellig of belgards of bronteum can empower the chandlers to reast of bibliopolist rarissima of enervated existentialism becoming the apagoge for the minimism of doctrinaire dogmatic serfdom simultaneous to the isorropic ravenous ravellin of the ratten bewrayed swirk jaunty in spellbound subversion but always recursive in the ingemination of illecebrous forsifamiliation that the rackrent of prurience demephitises only to funnel the effluvia of squalor and squandermania into a chockablock fumiduct of erasure rather than revalorized redintegration of lypemania offered at the outrance of lythcoop in phylactic manners so that the lientery of gravid supercherie of the semese ditokous radicalism of  ravelins of symposiarch syndaysmia might become enhanced by reckoning rather than diminished by crucibles of the antithesis of ataraxia at the penultimate scribacious saxifragous liturgy of sempervirent immortelles of the remontant opportunism of malingered tropoclastics of curved naivety and synclastic realism amasthenic because of prismatic surrealism. Amen

B. The whyern of the lazaretta of oxyholotrons of ghallitosis recumbent upon tisicky sockdolagers of loimic pestilence of limosis that cravenly bends all reticulation and resofincular singularities of the promontory of gadarene genius that the refracturism of liturgicide might demigrate with the demegorics of picine elapid pigarsconce phylarchy always contramanded by cowcatcher counterphobic babeldom that roils in sublimity manufactured by arrivistes of eclat that we might marvel at the majestic gauleiter in his engastrimyth porlocking purpresture of the purview of the noxal demiurge of gelogenic denouement that fewer spanerias cornered by the pogonips of suspended hebephrenia in the waning gloaming improvidence of importunate ludibund finifugal travesty that it might find recurrence in its attempted regelation of the wamzel impetus strengthened by eumoireity and the encraty that becomes the balderdash of egintoch fortitude that they might never mammer at the picaresque librations of the selenic bromidrosis that endangers by deliberate degrees of bromidrosis of frustraneous faffle that the fangasts might use the invictive turnverein of orthotropism in gallantry belonging to the gammerstangs of hylozoism even as an outgrowth of figurative thanatousia repining on its euhemerism and decrying its normalism of nocicepty in aspheterism that the eventual acme demolishes the ragtagger wreggled freggets of popinjay ventose conceit that breems of albatross dart in zugzwang rather than expedite in eupraxia of the idiolect of the grambouncers of scopophilia enamored so much of amasthenic and synclastic reboant phonophorous lurid triumph that never a crucible of laterad denouement of the raissoneurs of genius might find any crambazzled prurience in arrogation a detest of gammadions never belonging to the proper tribance of the rengall shibboleths of people that scowl in delitescent objurgation renowned for sublime rendavation that fewer may alienavesce by graklongeur and that more jongleurs of festive callithumpian imperseverant temerity might jow the tachymetry of the noosphere to the pinnacle of civilized eudaemonism never curtailed by the ballicatter of killcows blackguarding their own grapnels of possessive intorgurence and faineant psychosophy that all might denounce the rindstretch of alloreck because of ineradicable estoppage as the deturpation of the placomania and dacoitage of lewd larceny and never provident tribunes of humane orthotropism in orthobiosis. Amen

C. The raisonneur of pleionosis in the pleroma of refocillated recalcitrance emboldened into jaunty statures of refrain in the fescennine quarters of cartography bedizened by majestic megalography that simpers in the wangermist of junctition never a frackling seraglio of denatured ravellin in the skerries of skeumorph can contradict with the eupraxia rather than the dystocia of primiparas of a rhipidate fashion of patibulary treony diminutive in its trillom of flarium regarded never as faffle but always as fanfaronade that the smartest ideoprone nebbich pataphysics of modernity might quarrel with collieshangies of rapid repute opining because of quidlibertarian opiniasters of ophiuran bolides of meteoric whyern that they might all stagger davering away from the dwale of the blemished steganography of dengonin that the otarine aspergillum of ghoulish mandriarchs against an omphalism only tendentious with the full warble of tachymetry of falsehood rather than perdurable in the pasilaly of patience percutient in its force of rancor and acrimony that the ultrageous outrage always meets the favor of the tribunes of certainty rather than the delirifacient qualms of quacksalvers of martexture in the wrathcheque wartle of the renegade alone rather than the audacity of jongleurs to sway the real silviculture of sertivine and herculean geotechnics always transcendent rather than regelated only for the reflationary illusions of the revet and chaffer of broches of sanctified purpresture never the peaceful ponkoss of the pleckigger of the condign allotment. We stagger through the motatory mobilism of the diutiurnal demephitised dephlogisticated refocillation that renounces the frottage of ******* in all septuagint referendum of popular renown rather than gaumless numquids of rhizogenic rhabdomania in this heyday of providence rather than the naysayers who become the quilombo questmongers of irreption only because of the radicolous typhlophilia that scrounges pestilence and in scurrilous internecine balkanization of the avenue of truth and the highways of deceitful and disreputable phanerolagnia that they might always see the malison of the malism of the azimuth and avizandum of tziganology in shibboleth rather than in the rapidfire patibulary renown of the bowdlerized margaric and maricolous denouement of the tributaries of sempirvirence never in luxury but always in chiminage. Amen

D. Rhadbomania of the rhombos of tauricide ennobles the chiliarchy into the sederunt lancination of privilege becoming the crotaline demeanor of raffish runagate rampicks of ramellose radiciform bloviation that owes its coherence never to the  crucible of the epigones that boast in the steganography of wravvel but always evade their corporate responsibility to the anemocracy of never an anneabil gezellig of only the goliardy of dementia but that they always sustain an opiniaster flargent and deskandent impavid resofincular destination as the terminus of their finitism of consideration. May we always absolve the finicky albatross rather than the flocking jackals braying in the winterkill of subterfuge that they might with the magomancy of dragonnade rather than the imperium of honest cadence may their blarney and bletherskate impudence become to them a greater curse than the blessings of the avizandum of only a chrestomathic but outnumbered foe of the realism of a scandent scaramouch demisang of portreeves of hatred fomenting all spumid spindrifts and snirtles of disdain that they might bemoan their own intorgurence of refractory putanism as they scrimshank themselves only on meteoric pride rather than honest recidivism back into the heyday of truth rather than the matroclinic lies of bluestocking matriarchs of mandarism and omphalism contempered into raches that lack the oxyblepsia of ratomorphism ennobled rather than deturpated by both slaughter and laughter. Amen

E. Raffish runagates that enervate themselves of any oxyacaesthesia that they might belong to the demephitised bowery of their own supercilious provincial randan that the ranarian liposuction of their travesty becomes apparent in the kenspeckel of belletrist aimed against their magpiety of mafficking magomancies of false pretense rather than the sockdolagers of majestic genarchs above their littoral swank and alluvions of combustible antebellum swasivious larceny of the common forum against the lyceum of the promethean that by definition becomes radicalized by the rhipidate martexture of their profound deceit. We might never forsifamiliate or defiliate ourselves from nuclear truths rather than raffish lies of ruffianized vandalism of sacerdotalism and the triumphs of rogation above the pother of their outmantled owleries of recidivism in bloodthirst and graft. We might always overhaile without a hint of isorropic irony or the patibulary dudmans of the dringles of dwizzened wonderworks overwrought by rainshod oppression by the gullywashers of modernized tarnish hermalloping the best truths with sempervirent fictions that gadarene gadabouts prance with frantling and pavonine debellation that never provokes capitulation but only a talionic clarigation of the wartle of deceit disguised as the meteoric triumph of the hypertrophy of the hyperborean and thereby selenic invictive force of promethean millitasters emboldened into combat but never rescinded into a Miss Congeniality pageantry that shroffs by incorrect baragnosis of brassage a radical impotence rather than a plenipotentiary pantagamy of pantoglots that surf the alluvion rather than become infumated by the insolation of vesuviated hatred only countermanded by counterclock ratiocination always hobbled by the spancules of ridicule. Time is the behest of eternal alveolate synergies rather than the turgid muck of the jabberwocky of sublime elitism that is often parodied by the peenge of the thole of tauricide roaring in the winds of paravented elitism that scaramouches of skelder and the consequences of their impudence in only schadenfreude of perendination might they meet a whadronque end at the terminus of their own wrathcheque in their estrapade of the interrex rather than the eupraxia of their common objective in objectivism that finally regards with supreme truth the elements of neovitalism that buoy rhizogenic and seminal seminules of hylozoism combined with ratomorphism that we might all be astounded when the roostery outmantles the owlery because of the oxyacaesthesia that only the gubbertushed crapehangers disown in their minimifidian minimism against dogmatic lurches of triumph against the headlong deceit of hamshackled commitments of the spargosis of the colporteurs of only the most plebeian considerations rather than the most promethean samizdats that survive because the biognosy of bionomics is tautochronous to the fascinations of a newfangled isonomy between the bibliopolist of rarissima and the henchmen of the politicide of the polyacoustic babeldom of conclamation that tries desperately to cadge and roodge through diestrus the selachostomous sondage of the clastic mereology of love beyond any trivialized notions of macadamized macarism or worse the opportunism of the portreeve gauleiters of vandalized schadenfreude disregarding the ****** of a gamboling frescade with the hypaethral heavens bequeathing the glebes of plebania with a pleroma rather than a pleonexia. The pasilaly of consequentialism in the reference of doxography that might never faint by the cordial resofincular dimensions of  corrugated wizened and dwizzened dringles of pataphysical naivety that is an objurgation of negativism rather than an elevated triumph of the aqueducts of the irrigation of all novantique by the paragons of lolloping swank in the proper pleckigger notarized by the plackiques of the semaphores of the ennobled wrepolis never craven in its eustress that finally the fangasts of temerity rather than the harridans of the bloodthirst corruption of the boweries of graft eviscerated by the providence of the esquivalience of naivety that they might understand the synclastic relativism of our times magnifies the mesmerism of the siderism finally stellized enough to outmantle the pothers of fumatorium and erase the frinterans of spendthrift pismirism from the hallowed sacrarium of the modern liturgy rather than the archaeolatry of the bethels of lewd tradition empowered by footloose philandering and venal venereal valetudinarianism that itches to foreclose on every mortgaged contract of family that they might be defiliated by the timmynoggies of sin rather than redacted by the greater good of the enosimania of those that find findrouement neither a rubricality nor a qualm but rather the axiomatic fulfillment of the toil of graklongeur never feckless in its ascendancy against the tidal destruction of selenocentric arrogance of ludibund nescience that frolics only in the carapace of naive novantique rather than the egestuous realization that the crapehangers of shibboleth are useless because the apikoros are defiled by their flargent disbelief rather than ennobled by their fidelity to the agapism of a favored century over the declension of the fatalism of finifugal aghast and rantipole negations of the malaise of only the malapert reconnaissance of the scepsis of dubiety rather than the optimistic omphalism of synclastic and amasthenic centuples of redintegrated happenstance becoming peremptory novelty in the novantique of the proper pleckigger of reverence in the paravent against the umbrageous sabotage of the listless in liturgy and the intorgurent disdain of liberticide. May God reckon upon the Earth a newer triumph that never in sheepish bleats davers in periblebsis because of predatory galvanization of instinct and the worst shibboleths of the pilgarlick pigsconce of blatteroons of nescience in their firm commitment to hylicism that can easily find apagoge never only in the aphemia of aphnology of the anacusic irrecusable enmity of those that despise halidom because of the groundling fascination with only volcanic lavondeurs rather than the narthex of lavaderos that scavenge all florilegium for the tombstone of truth and the resurrection of the lively anacampserote of the optimistic escape of those persecuted by estoppage and redstrall into the frontier of harmony and the syndicalism of centripetal serendipity. Amen

"We are all sinners and time will come for metanoia
That pulls us back once again into the land of pleroma
A region of light where we continue to achieve gnosis
The possibility of transcendence in a spiritual phasis"

Sages  whisper  truth  of  a  path  that's  narrow
And  most  difficult  to  ascend  for  humankind.
T'is  true,  I  know,  for  one  did  sing  his  mind
Thru  the  evening  song  of  a  vesper  sparrow

-And I hear Him beside my thoughts aloud.

To  overcome  the  passions  of  this  still  inertia
Mixed  with  my  own  mind's  keen  reservation,
Is  a  hard  battle  between  grief  and  brief  elation
In  the  cold  night  or  dreary  day,  and  vice  versa.

When  I  am  in  my  solitude,  I  choose  to  drift  by
With  the  dread  riptide  of  the  moment,  while
Striving  for  the  peace  of  the  ebb  tide,  a  smile
Upon  my  face  to  let  me  know  it  will  be  alright

-And I hear Him beside my thoughts aloud.

When  I  am  between  the  shore  and  the  pleroma
Violet  horizon,  I  revel  in  a  continuum  of  space,
With  the  music  of  the  spheres  whirling  apace
To  a  forbidden  rhyme  as  I  perfect  my  persona.

I  ­lose  all  of  my  attachments  until  I  am  free  to  be
Married  to  my  destiny,  which  haunts  each  dream
And  drinks  up  my  soul  like  a  weeping  willow  tree.   I  have  surrendered,  nearer  to  our  God,  to  Thee

*-And I hear Him beside my thoughts aloud!

Do we feel it when it all falls unconscious
What if all the mothers on the planet
Were ensconced into their hearts simultaneously
And if for a single moment
There was freedom from the tyranny
Of endless duties and responsibilities
Would it all fall apart at once

I beg your pardon
But tonight's sunset was one of the Sun's most fertile deposits
So what if we were to shun the day
And instead make love to the darkness of the desert
For the pheasant is my ancestral totem
And it is obvious in the moonlight
That you motion to me like a novice
For after you and I are seduced by the harvest
We can choose first among the stardust
Its true that all this was once our own garden
From a time when we first learned to become human
Until we eventually return to the understory
Of our aboriginal commonality

We are still happening
We are learning to shun acceptance
And make due with unexpected lessons
We are undifferentiated fantasy
In lands of cholera and chronic romances
We are far from perfect
But we still always try to do our best
And i don't expect you to protest anything

And if we dance for days against the apathy we make
And spray gradients of sound from our awakening
Into the pleroma’s defiance
We can try out our mouthpieces
And seek fingers of lightning
At a height quite defiant
Whenever we get uptight like a runway
Sundays are always smiling
And whenever we make love
We break records with our bodies
Against the conundrums
Of being polished too roughly
We funnel living diamonds
Into pipelines of supply and demand
Like cats and mice we chase trends around bends
Of commerce and economic insurgency

how... how can i be content...
with... what's "new" on the internet...
well... i dunno...
                   dun'n'oh...
                     dickensian take on
east london shlang?
maybe that...
             the pickwick papers...
oh... sure... i'm still reading it...
had to put up a shed and get a suntan...

what's new... on the internet?
i forgot to buy vinyls...
shoes... hell... nooses and shoelaces...

i somehow set up facebook...
well... back in 2004 / 5... when you could...
only as a university student...
my old edinburgh email...
aushwitz galore:
           s07.... ****... should have asked
for a tattoo...

  oh my... it looks so pwetty now...
all lights out and minds.com sorta:
swish... look... like a drag queen revamp...

what's new? i don't have a twitter
account...
           how did these people figure
out what to do with the internet...
for a while hotmail chat rooms were hot...
for the expenditure of...
sending someone an instant message...
rather than... a postcard...

oh... poetry websites?
the likes to dislikes ratios?
the comment section antics...
clearly i don't have the capacity
for making videos...
imagine what that was... once...
like... taking photographs...
which implied: a whole lot of chemistry...
and dark-rooms...
feral red terminator style doom & gloom...
and putting a blank into some liquid
and waiting for the magic
of the image to appear...

what's new... on the internet...
i like the little corner: patience of a spider...
no... likes... dislikes...
the "audience"...
there's only me... and someone else...
this someone else... isn't...
diluted into numbers...
i don't engage with individual readers...
and... individual readers...
don't engage with each other...
in the comment section...

sorry... no twitter... facebook...
2004... what the hell happened to wattpad...
oh... right... i wasn't 14... i wasn't female...
i wasn't canadian...
what's truly new, though?
  
      the first three days were memorable...
cold-turkey...
  the tobacco levels were decreasing...
and the feet weren't used so much...
so i felt the gravity pull me into
a pseudo-****** of: getting nailed
to a windowsill while sitting on a folded
leg... harlequin crow impromptu...

what's new: i'm not a teenager with heart
breaking verse...
i've quit smoking...
well... apart from the 2 sly 'uns at the end
of the day...
this my little converter of shoving these
"details" into a drawer...
and somehow forgetting about it...

gnat's impromptu: the palette is making
a come-back...
what's new is that nothing's new...
not since using twitter was a "thong" /
thing... i'll be catching the midnight train
to the land of nod any minute now...
jacked up with...
bubblegum bourbon aftertastes...

with no hindsight: the cheap cigarettes
stopped flowing... black market moldova
kind...
internet banking internet shopping...
revisionist ulterior politico...
perhaps bird-watching...
or googlewhacking...
the lexicon of the gnostics:
something from the nag hammadi library...
the lament of ezra pound:
so few come to drink from my fountain...

ennoia... norea... na'amah...
          the apocryphal names of
             shemhazai, azza, ouza -
all three... interchangeable...
   the lust for mortal women...
perhaps akin to my lust for orc-women...
the fidgeting shadow of the ticking
clock: mind you: the abundant silence
of the rotating titans -
   a halo of saturn...
              the sly orb-rota of planets...

perhaps it isn't so necessary to invest
in a poetry platform... knowing all to well
that it's not a publisher...
it's teasing the publishers' whims...
when one invests in short-hand...
when one invests in...
  bypasses... cheats... when one...
is milked...
        and doesn't earn... a presence...
on the cuff... and tux and ironed shirts...

what's new... i've quit smoking and
i'm teasing the taste of rose buds...
the rest falls into a cohort line
of coscripted: cohesive... alligned chime
to rhyme and bitter geese strutting...

what role... to play...
the hyper-geometry of the pleroma...
alec... heavily on the hops...
side of... the brilliance of beer...
ale-lager banzai...
            pops... hops the drifter...
with no twitter and no alias...
          good at selling matchsticks...
hopefully moving up in life:
to tell...
   nails and hammers...
and parachutes...
and... lemmings...
              
            keeping up with...
                             twin peaks...
and... the x-files...
                    and...
                     that sacred motto of tao...
the best way to help the world...
is to forget the world...
and allow the world to forget you...
but... since the world comes...
regardless: invitation or none...
entertaining the world...

           and... the bed... who's aladdin?
my magic carpet ride...
             choo-choo train limbo...
lobsided details of...
that otherwise... easily stomached...
pint of stout...
best drank raw...
not used in cooking...
no! i will not use... an indian pale ale...
to give details to an irish signature:
of a worth of stew!

i open my heart up
hoping i never find out that i'm anyone else
i sing that flat
and so aware
my voice it blares out into the light
into my light bulb
into the lit room
into these white walls
the void
prepared to bounce back
i am swimming in aethyr
i am detaching from everything but
all this aethyr i see
i feel and  hear in it still
the voice of god
singing harmony
now
i dress up and i sing in her pain
i sing to her melodies
and i sing in pain
fairy notes and my shoulders tense
my body wants free no
my soul wants to go
atman shock the body and electric and my eyes lay low
by the beach, i go,
and the sea all worries wash away
it's a different note now and a different voice somehow
and i think the mermaids come out to play
yes she will take me by the hand and we go from the sand
and she will take me into the waters of the aethyr of god
pleroma yes im in here now
outside of the safe womb
wombed outside of the womb and no where to break through
stuck my hand on my belly
a little baby coddled in jelly
inside me so warm and so sweet
we sing lightly and we hum
we sway to our own drums
we close our eyes the harps are going down
mmmmm hums
the sunset drifts awhile from here
the moons mem'ry is not so clear
and the roofs and walls and floors are pink in here
time escapes as we go all now
nothing grows except my faith
i stay right here in balled up malaise
i stick her sluggishly
we're slowing down
the baby births from inside me and i see the little trembling
of my own hands
mermaid, shannon you've decided to go and leave
and stay but now the world is shaking where am i?
i was never even here alive: the experience of being near to you,
and the hold me down truths of you: i look up down at the Knowing Ones, but they will never hold these guns
and they will not know the truth of God, not the light
not the dark,
the true Facade

You reprimand the cathedrals
For being too aggressive
I say this is how we dance
When garbage cans are filled
With romance and fragrance
Perfume lingers upon the sandwiches
We made salad and falafel
Life is a tragic kerfuffle
Your youth are dramatically disabled
Capable of absolutely anything at all
When the direction you face
Makes all the difference in the world
And is it a waste of space
Or are these just some bad apples after all
This architecture accentuates our apathy
Like invisible lattices of grass and confetti
This convivial refinement
Among residues of divine juxtaposition
Are merely shadows of impermanent particles
The angles and angels decline to comment
On aspersions and false lies cast upon the firmament
As the pleroma abides in its alibis and denial
We shall smile and wave at our own funerals
Compliments are common mistakes
And can still be upsetting all the same
When we are undeserving of our fame
Untruthful allegations sparkle drastically
Against waves of inference and declarations of futility
We have underestimated the choices we made
And sometimes love is just a courageous mistake

those green hazel eyes with angels inside
they must be out control; the holding of souls,
i slip in between consciousness, the seams
of pleroma unfolds, how far must i go
to see the One, the only true god
i may the chance to go