"pluralism" poems
me? these days?
i have to bribe bonsai tigers
to fall asleep by giving them
excess treats,
drink myself to a limit
and then take insomnia tablets,
glance at the stars
and gag up a bolshevik black hole,
think about russian
newly-wed millionaires
spending so mcuh the taxes go up,
testifying: well when the full circus
with elephants and missing acrobats
comes... and there's no french revolution
versace... we're in bigger crap
we thought we were...
so i took to peddling, keeping heart
rate with feeling rather than
a heart-rate keeper on the wrist known
as apple / iWank...
you'll never believe the amount
of creativity that comes from Onan...
it's like that story of onan and samson
like it's that story of cain and abel...
you'd have to be a mozart to find a creative
continuum in women rather than
beethoven in the hive of being deaf...
say rich and thus say spend...
say poor and thus say like a primate
with two flint stones... what the hell is this?!
japanese crow reduced their beak for
nut crushing purposes into a car tire.
FIRE! FIRE! PROMETHEUS!
so came the world favouring thought
from prometheus' liver
when in diaper-shelter postman pat delivery
by a stork... but each of us that got the slit
of liver never claimed origins in the apple
adam ******* out when eve forgot
that satan's singularity was expressed in
a pluralism: eat this apple, depilate,
and you and adam will be like the gods...
but then the metrosexual emerged
with shaved legs and a shaved chest...
down the drain that dream went:
as long as you eat the apple and know
you have hairy legs... i'm sure whatever you
say he will be ordained with pleasure to perform...
eve - i need a hammer
adam - here babe
eve - i need a nail
adam - here babe
eve - i need five planks of wood, four legs one like an abdomen
adam - here babe
eve - mash it up
adam - hey babe, what's that?
eve - a ****** table, tapestry for porcelain!
adam - woah! that's great!
eve to god - this adam is a ****** robot!
satan to eve - well... get ready for ******
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
the narrative does not cling to classicalism of stating whether the pronoun usage is either singular or plural or both to allow an armchair of expression; after all... there's enough for us to bypass the classical philosophical debate about subject and object, simply investigating pronoun usage in relation to singularity or pluralism.
there’s a theory where poetry came from,
one read: cleopatra wanted to hear sweet-nothings
calibrating a razor with a viper’s kiss...
another read: she báthory?
she báthory? she the one that turned milk into blood?
she can burn in hell.
i thought we were un-dialectical in the realms of concern?
no... you see... poetry came from punctuated-impressionism...
or a fear of it... punctuation of course, not from the impressionism...
poets fear punctuation...
give them a semi-colon
and
they
treat
it
like a sidelined line of verse.
this is poetry in mathematical equations:
i had a pear(,)
it was a spare(.)
i had a care for traffic(-)
so i missed( )
the expressions and started using an obelisk to quarter up the mammoth
into chop suey...
poets simple say: next line! when prose says next paragraph
and the prized execution of the 100m sprint . . . (.)
that’s universal alpha romeo with alfa bravo charlie delta (echo)...
come on in the u-turn... give us a smile......... :),
poets says... i need breathing space
without sentenced timing of silence, for the toad to feed inspiration
and envy!
no wonder you came with the alpha - zulu
alphabet given that you used ɪɡ and zoʊ...
so tell me... where’s this copernican west upside down
(this heliocentric west with east being the big bang)?!
i'd swear the thing stopped orbiting in circles
and a thing that's on it's thought started to become
orbital... a fashion sense of the 60s 70s 80s 90s repeated -
that's right, the whole thing became heliocentric
and we became narcissists instead of solipsists
in the geocentric system of worked-up plagiarism
with adequate excuses.)
it's here it the poets apprehensive of punctuation symbology
and instead writing "sparingly,"
to write, e.g.:
i
hate
this
love
affair
claimed
to
be
the
world...
i
rather
chisel
chequers
into
geometry
of
x4
90º.
makes sense poets begot fear of
punctuation and not grammar, they
serviced to explore nothing else,
leaving grammar open long enough to *****
mathematics in... remember...
poets are firstly concerned with punctuation...
secondly with grammar...
philosophy for poets is grammar;
**** i'm um um so drunk i'll need to revise.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
before existentialism, and nietzsche in mind, philosophy was written
or spoken of accepting the socratic rigidity of words,
the rigidity of words known through
the socratic method of inquiry:
the simplest of questions imposed on
the meaning of words; e.g. what is virtue?
but with existentialism this old method
of inquiry, the poised posing bewilderment
lost its quality, in that the new method of
inquiry was given to stress not a method
of questioning but that of ambiguity,
even though this new method that simply
said the reverse of what is virtue as
the preservation of a narrative: "virtue" concedes
many variations exampled true, e.g. -
this dittoing going against - previously said /
as above - became staged against
a brick wall - since this method, the existential
method of brushing aside inquiry and entering
the realm of ambiguity was already present -
the pluralism of meaning found in certain words;
it isn't a question whether red or blue can
be ambiguous, this allocation of noun
and quality is all too pervasive - so when
an ambiguity is allowed to exercise its stressor
posit - the word in question is allocated
a verb orientation in its exercise of use and example,
further diluted by the quantity and lack of example,
and ascribed contorting
adjectivity due to the dilution of meaning: with lessened
recognition of sought out qualification to sentence
an enzymic perfection of: banker and philanthropist,
priest and maximilian kolbe, poetry and lack of envy.
even though these examples are idealistic,
they provide the obvious ambiguity already apparent,
hence the double ambiguity of opposites, ideal opposites.
in shorthand - if socrates were to come
upon reading existentialism - his questions
regarding the virtues would be bound to free floating
terms in the ditto bubbles of flimsiness of non-inquiry -
bewildered by the number of prompts to question,
there would be no necessary ambiguity to many other
terms of inactivity - such as the previously mentioned
red and blue, dog and glue, but too many, it would seem,
should a strict belief in categorising virtue as a noun
but not a verb be kept - for categorisation of such nature
only provides a linear cascade without due action
or cared for imitation - ending with the only chance of virtue
chanced and seen as an unvirtuous person
doing crossword puzzles in silence - and already
virtue's opposite is engaged in defending itself
and justifying its ills by first forcing many synonyms to
cover it in ambiguity, and asserting itself as an adjective
within a noun framework blunt: virtue v. unvirtuous
will only confiscate siamese phonetic mingling to ease the definition;
i guess that's how rhyming was born, the opposite
of alphabetical ordering: a, aardvark the violet's blue
****** a doughnut with you.
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
Your idea was to dislike cats.
I love both: You and the Cat.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC
.it's called pronoun usage focused upon the experience of claustrophobia, or rather, the lack of... hence: one thinks in order for one to be... unus, cogito, unus se, per ergo; these people went after grammar... not a good idea; i've had my doubts... but... i also have my... rigid beyond religious orthodoxy credos... infringed upon denials! grammar is one of them!
well...
if we're going to go about our
verbiage as we've done...
pronouns...
sorry...
i have to do this...
or rather...
one has to resort to this...
one must think / hinge on such
matters...
one must execute such...
"inconveniences"...
one must, press on such
matters...
just so, one is able...
to counter the trans- pronoun usage...
with a royal,
pronoun usage;
happy?!
go on... two is able...
two think...
figure it out... tow along;
as a Nascar wreck...
because started thinking...
is pluralism intact
pluralism... on the basis of
an isolated instance of
a disfranchised base within
the confines of He... or She?
no?
well... the royal pronoun
intervention...
as one would expect...
or rather, as one would hope so...
hello?!
i think the lunatics have run
the asylum long enough...
their supposed asylum,
formerly known as society?
not good enough...
call the guys in the white coats
that... everyone seems to fear.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 8:22 PM UTC
What is an American?
Is it decided by the timber of our voice,
the strength in our limbs,
the blood in our veins,
or the color of our skin?
Tell me,
for I do not understand,
unfold your thesis,
inundate my mind with statistics,
be it quantum blood measures,
origin or sociological constructs of the creature in question.
Tell me,
what it is to be an American?
This umbrella term,
I just do not understand,
is it to be a thief?
A country founded on stolen land,
and stolen labor,
sage bushed bills,
backed by gilded structures and systems of debate and seizure,
is being an American drowning in leisure?
What does this term mean?
I find myself confused,
it is difficult to quantify the qualitative,
and breath life into lifeless chiseled forms,
found in squares and plazas throughout,
a country split by hard wired ferocity,
quicksand laden dividing lines,
the vocal deciding what it is to be,
and what it isn't.
*Careful lad,
there is such a thing as too much,
too much individuality,
so put up your hair,
put away the paint,
put away that sign,
sheath your weapon,
old boy,
this isn't your fight,
and besides,
what can you do with a toy?*
I don't know what America is,
land of the free,
where is that?
I see only industry,
a dying morality,
drowned in ethics,
a protestant-core built on overt inequality.
What does it mean to be an American?
I can't tell you what it means to you,
only what it means to me,
and so I say dust off the document upon which this term was built,
and realize that the past is not what you should use,
just as anything else of import,
use judgement,
agency,
the ability to choose,
uphold the freedom that suffocates in the back of your mind,
to the flame inside your chest,
to the weakness in your legs,
down against the sole of your shoes.
America is a country founded on rebellion,
a little man,
underdog all grown up,
and now he's the one throwing punches,
a story paralleled by Davidic tales,
and though he may not be perfect,
and is often reviled,
I love him still,
his rough edges,
for we are still part of the experiment,
ongoing,
the American dream.
Though the gates may be weighed down,
the hinges rusted,
a country of sojourners,
soon a country of minorities,
cultural pluralism,
though flawed,
I like it better this way,
a techni-colored mirage of what once was,
and if we must meet our end,
so be it,
guide me home,
for is it not true that all roads eventually wind home?
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 2:54 PM UTC
ghosts I have known
lecherous dream beings
who curtsy with disdain
folly for their nourishment
a requiem to their ***
whispers of pluralism
seeking audience second advent
astrally disembodied onlooker
we shared some wine
flinched at entanglement
she asked me to stay and I did
we bumbled and the night lammed
forks in time birth specters
spooky children dally unquenched
suffering fools with great ease
because childhood is make-believe.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 1:44 AM UTC
*you know, i can **** before i become homeless; yes? ok... cheerio.*
when i experience no intelligence
after being educated, it's
hardly an expectation to
experience any after... desirably hoped for, that
which offers up the antonymous by-product that's
despaired after so freely, and all those more profitable affairs
of a literate nature to engage with: to be
enslaved likewise missing; oh the gravity
as nothing falling, the tears on my cheeks
with vide cor meum, ah, but you see,
i can stomach a cage and being caged,
should i be forced into a freedom that's
only homelessness.
oh so many insignias of pause that were never
given a mathematical rubric of allowed deciphering!
that grand pause of arithmetic in the undecided
length of pause between (,) (.) (;) and that italicised
pause of (:) readying (a) list(s) of emphasis; let alone
the hyphenation of all the lost emphasises of Pompeii
(embark tongue tied into the grapheme æ);
or embark asking between the threes that are
direct and indirect articulation of plurality,
given then the anti of pluralism is god, and that's neither
direct or indirect, consolidating the direct as prayer
and the indirect as atheism.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
I orbit myself a
cyclical pattern
No Beginning No End
an elliptical motion
Enigma at Center
reflections of three....
me at the helm...
Space... time, gravity.
A singular pluralism of exponential eternity as infinitesimal minutiae
govern the ******
Not by lancing their eyes,
but insidiously
locking them in darkness,
like masses are meant to be.
But no... not me... as
my gift of perspective
has illuminated space ...
to spectate the rats
scrambling scrambling
to win the race.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 11:34 PM UTC
My inner tongue trips
over her yesterday
morning’s extemporaneous
homily and its retelling
rains down on me
temporal anomalies
through which I’ll slip the bleached
monotony chasing me.
Turn key,
return me
to the upturned
glee of a midnight macadam.
Unmanned, it’s where
the manholes open up to me
their traps of sunken yet
stacked wire-mesh baskets.
They’ve been left
to catch a refused few
turquoise-beaded strings
mixed with ash
feather-dusted by the lime,
tangerine and grape
wing beats of exotic birds
too meek to fly upward.
There the tensile tip of a sweet
and fecund smell grips me
and it squeezes out
visions of too-soon
dying in that bed
where a stripped truth lies
tenderly with the on-putting
of my put-off lies.
A low hiss heralds happy heat
and radiating pings rap me
down the shrinking-shadow hall
away from Hedone’s keep.
In the singular
pleasure of this rhythmic pluralism
my nouns and verbs find
their final agreement:
*All we’ve known
is what a wanting wind’s foretold,
but its chilly, willful voice
can no longer hold us.*
Nov 28, 2010
Nov 28, 2010 at 9:36 AM UTC
you were born with the mind of an artist;
consider it a gift, consider it a curse,
either way, you will both love and hate every **** thought you have.
she-loves-me:
she-loves-me-not:
::pluralism,
brand your curse on your heart,
doesn't happen once or twice,
every time, **** time
two brains sitting one inside the other endlessly,
"at least you can make beautiful things" is a blessing,
but my life is a curse
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 2:16 AM UTC
darwinism killed music off:
i moved to scotland for three
years, to the soundtrack
of for the love of a princess,
instead i got a foreign
exchange student from grenoble
studying the death defying
practice of psychology
who said i spoke no organics
in terms of tongue, ****** her
while she crawled into my bed
and lost my virginity like a fox,
on the sly, to the motto i caricatured
saying to fifty thousand pound debt:
only idiots educate themselves these
days -
this atheism non-congregating will
not succeed, it will fail, it will fail, it,
will, fail!
a postcard from a Lebanese girl i asked
for a date to see some moving pictures
didn't help (when i was at high school)...
she read the book the hours
a year later (a virginia woolf adaptation)...
spare the boy! spare the boy for fuck's sake!
old stiff collar ***** **** bureaucrat
just said: verzweiflung verzagen eine gedanke -
für beweis ex pluralismus
(despair despaired a thought - for proof out of
pluralism).
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 8:42 PM UTC
then my voice be heard among the night's rains
of sparrows singing the next oxford dictionary,
perhaps, but sooner you will hear
that no unconscious fabric delves so easily into narcissism
for ego-centric exhibitions: learn that dreams are not
ego-centric exhibitions but ego-centric inhibitions,
thus you will walk a mile undo the pluralism of the distance
known as miles free of the dream(s)...
with two bypassing me in the arabic
tongue i ended my search... and took less of freud and more
of intrigue, part come sparing part come searching a depth of:
would fools' words delve into not speaking but utilising spoken
symbols in order to attempt speech?
i think not, for fools speak in pure verb / action
rather than think out a distinction
of nouns between
said hammer and hammering in
without the nail
of prepositioned in
thus missing prepositioned nail:
of the hammer's intention of a non-warring purpose
fulfilled: an utility heard of but not a skull of member
in two planks of wood.
- germania -
TO'H IPHST'A ***
TA SYPHTA HYPHLTA UNA!
and thence it came, in a mountainous overcrowding
like an avalanche of spirit
a hoarse calm of native tongue against the invasion,
it came,
and it came against all former eloquent hoarse screech,
who felt unnecessary to note speech
for a dire need of trust once kept now lost,
they who kept the tongue in the mouth
but not the cranium to be over-invasive
of the complexity of the brain as kept lightning
bolt as rhythm of heart
who didn't invent psychology placebo due
to the over-complication of sponge tissue...
who said trust and honour and have rather died
than politicise into old age...
who then honourable of the conquered?
only virgins peasants and old men of the crippled senate?
of what was said, as much was unsaid.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 9:17 PM UTC
nietzsche? what he did? inverting the cartesian equation?
like: 1 + 1 = 2, turned into 1 + 1 = 2?
**** me... isn't that confusing...
the symbol = precipiates into ergo;
what did he do?
he inverted the cartesian principle...
he said: i am, therefore i think...
so why are all these people coming
out from the woodworks, like cockroaches?
i already said it once,
the antithesis of the cartesian res cogitans
a thinking thing... is res vanus:
an empty thing...
test of time...
you stop ************ for about a month?
your ***** turns... yellow... it's no longer white...
your testicles shrink... you're shooting
evil *****
and then you talk to a woman
who's been "learning" about her period, ************
want to have children?
stop ************ for a month...
**** her on her period
but don't ********* then **** her once more when
she's off it...
the cramps are gone... your ***** is
so concenrated that it's no longer white, but yella..
what are you going to get?
a screaming báhor (toddler) in your arms...
but nietzsche inverted the cartesian "equation"...
thankfully... he got it wrong,
in a sense, he didn't counter res cogitans (thinking thing)
with res vanus (empty thing) -
sure, nietzsche was influential in the 20th century...
in the 21st century though?
more like the label guy...
i'm this... i'm that... i'm whatever you wish me to be...
the 21st century says: nietzsche isn't an ocean...
he was a depth of a puddle's worth to claim...
but it's there! it's in one of his footnotes!
he reverses the cartesian "equation"...
he "says": i am, therefore i think.
no wonder then, where all the 21st century
labels come from!
these people aren't thinking!
i'd love for this label to come about:
i thinking... therefore i'm dumb-seeming...
because i shut-the-fuck-up!
hard to not think of two things...
i think corresponding to res cogitans...
with i am correspoding to res vanus -
and ergo corresponding to ***
meaning?
why are so many people associating themselves with
so many labels, on an intellectual level of deciding
whether or not to wear versace, dolce & gabbana,
or primani... oh sorry... armani.
people express so many labels though,
it's like they stress the second half of the cartesian equation,
but not the first half...
which precipitates into heidegger's da-"sein".
there is.... sure... there really is...
but what? is that actually being, without thinking?
or am i just putting clothes on to look kosher
at a paris fashion catwalk?
it's almost, well, it actually is:
a question: there's being?
that question substitutes the conceptualißation
of being's pluralism qua beings...
i.e. the many happenings...
the rebel ant in the ant-hill... at best: the only
suggestive approximate.
there sure as **** is a being... but the da, the there?
reduced to newspaper articles,
read on friday, recycled on a monday, in orange
bin-bags.
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 7:13 PM UTC
Three tabs of acid and a year of postmodern novels will **** you up in a shorter span of time than doing a degree in poststructuralism, and only an idiot with a death wish would do both. Manic romp to reach nowhere in a political field that never arrives, except in France.
Well Sartre once said nothing, and so did Derrida, and so did Baudrillard. Endless procession of words for the sake of filling a vacuum that didn’t exist until it was filled. Enter Freud; exit Bernays. All meaning atop a Golden Bough.
Sitting in your flatmate’s room the acid kicks in and suddenly no one is themselves, every line that leaves their mouths traceable to a media product, the perfect communion of pluralism arriving as the terror of integral capitalist banality. To speak is to add to the mockery; to say nothing is to let the mockery continue.
Forget it all by watching Youtube videos at 0.25x speed. Displace the terror of your own situation through the consumptive behaviour that had constituted it in the first place. Watch in gleeful delight as the eyes of whatever presenter happens to be on the screen at the moment dart between this or that object of desire, ever unsure of where to settle amongst an infinite number of existential refrains, none of which deliver from the anxiety of the prior.
Holding a caramel slice in the departmental tea room, your lecturer waits for you to respond, but all you manage is a cough.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 5:56 AM UTC
message "<i>monotheistic agony</i> saved successfully"
html "
<div id="poem1929646" class="poem poem-left " data-align="left" data-url="http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1929646/monotheistic-agony/" data-text="monotheistic agony by Máteùš Izydor" seepoem="/poem/see/1929646/">
<div class="poem-view inner">
<div class="poem-header poem-part">
<div>
<span title='This poem is visible to everyone' class='btn btn-label '>public</span>
<a href="#" data-href="/poem/edit/1929646/html/" class="toggle-edit btn btn-tiny btn-black">edit</a>
</div>
<a href="/polaroid-scrabble/" class="nocolor poem-poet-name popover-profile" data-url="/popover/profile/662176/">Máteùš Izydor</a> <span class="poem-added s" title="Poem added 3 minutes ago">3m</span>
</div>
<div class="poem-part poem-title bottomss">
<a href="/poem/1929646/monotheistic-agony/" class="nocolor">monotheistic agony</a>
</div>
<div class="poem-part continue-reading poem-body wordwrap">
<p>you know what <br> urinating with<br> a ******** feels like?<br><br>next thing you know:<br>they'll be tearing off their niqabs<br> and implying<br> staples to the fake <em>kippahs</em><br> of the popes.<br><br> and then tribalism from <em>brazil</em>.<br><br> toes are a real agony...<br> fingers are slightly better,,,<br> but do you know alcoholism is<br>such a burden?<br> it's ******* exhausting...<br> once you get to the stage of <br>a litre of whiskey, in between 2 days<br>you're wondering....<br> i'm not being lazy about this....<br>this is the <em>fantastic 4</em> making an entrance...<br>there's mr. fantastic / spastic trying to samba fully<br> extended;<br> <em>limp dick</em> ever come across your mind?<br> i'm thinking <em>squid</em>, or at least something<br>wobbly, or able to juggle, or with limbs <br>that have the consistency of a brain, i.e. fat;<br> then all the bones are in their mouths and could<br>nibble on you twice-over - or <em>ridley scott</em> talking.<br><br>p.s. definite article indefinite article<br> pluralism (simply... es);<br> a very serious english complex.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="after" class="after-reading"></div>
<script type="text/javascript">
$(document).ready(function(){
HP.prepare_poem($("#poem1929646"));
$("#poem1929646 .poem-body").appear(function(){
HP.load_after_reading($("#poem1929646"), "/poem/read/1929646/");
});
});
</script>
</div>
"
success 1
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
we refuse to believe,
to denounce the dream,
to not remember.
we refuse to accept,
a false defeat,
that the process has ended.
but I look around,
and it appears you've won,
and they all consented.
deafening pluralism
post-modern [rant]
victims of culture
spectacle love
packaged meanings
individualist mass
interconnected points
one-dimensional facts
(i) sit here and meditate on all that
(i) am so terribly meta
(i) love my corral
give all the pleasures (i) can possibly have
teach me to accept anything and never stand up
(i) wanna be a spectator of the things to come
participate the least possible and not care at all
see nothing outside my little microcosm
be a relativist moralist and completely apolitical
please convince (me) too
that we've figured it all
the details remain
but we get the whole
please assimilate me in the pack
(i) wanna be sheepish
(i)'d love to feel numb
(i) love the screen's light, (i) fear the dark
some want to be, (i) just want to have
the self is a process and (i) can't bother with that
(i) now gather tokens to show you my value
bureaucratic meritocracy, let me glorify you
tag me, price me, define me all the way
(i) hope you find a tag for my soul as well
(i) will now be infotained to catch up
will watch a news satirist to understand
after that there's this show of people losing fat
(i) get my "values" from jesters and marketing fads
look, this poem's so meta
(i) could open my heart:
[negative feeling here] [joke about that]
[unoriginal opinion] and [trivia]
[self-resentment], [a very bad pun].
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC
I am Canadian. We are considered polite.
I will remain so here.
We are a socialist democracy.
You, a capitalist democracy.
Our Prime Minister makes mistakes.
He's comparatively young. He takes good council.
He speaks of what he knows,
And knows when not to speak.
He can be mean (depending), but never cruel.
He has great wealth, but neither flaunts nor hides it.
When he equivocates or lies, he knows it.
We have all the amenities of a capitalistic society,
With the security and comfort of our social pluralism.
Our youth enrol in a free and fine education.
We have no rich or poor school districts.
We have no security guards or metal detectors.
We are not an economic super power.
We do not influence worldly affairs with an itch or a sniffle.
Our Senate is powerless (enough said).
Authority and power lie in the multi-party system;
Each chooses its leader.
We don't vote for the Prime Minister,
But every four years (and many times less) we can vote one out.
And get this: sometimes the party changes horses midstream to rein in getaways.
A coup d'état is almost impossible,
Unless we get invaded for our fresh water.
We're not nuclear armed, but when called, the Forces are tenacious.
We're not war mongers. We really do prefer peace.
Our former P.M. won a Nobel for coming up with the idea of a U.N. Peacekeeping Force. That's a real one.
We have serious problems like you. At times, the innocent and the guilty get hurt; that's never good. And believe me, we support most of your political initiatives, domestic and foreign, and your peaceful demonstrations. We know pain too.
I know you love your country. And you have **** good reasons.
Most Canadians love you too, and we are very worried about our southern neighbours who treat us so well when we visit west of the St. Clair River.
We've helped you when you were in need; when your country was under attack. We are your good neighbours with good fences. We will always be there for you and whatever Democracy you choose.
Please, choose wisely.
Bless America
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 3:48 PM UTC
Sky shed its tears, waves streamed down the hill
Sky shed its tears, sand just took, stood still
Mates fool around the hills, laughs bombarded the silent wind
Mates fool around the hills, lost the souls of innocent kin
O! The Undefiable World, labile is the face of thee
Certainty comes at thee like pollen allergy
Manuscript of lies snares the seeker of personal peace
Pluralism holds the face of true fair and justice
The world reacts towards imminent repugnance
Beings behave based how heart dictates
Plural reaction drive the world toward amends
Day and die lay nothing but a pale
For all the love and hatred the world has ate
Good and bad was never said the best
Life was never a thing close to fair
Plural reactions drove the world toward amends
Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 8:15 AM UTC
while lucifers steal the light
of this world,
and take to stage...
basking in the frightening
light of Icarus....
monotheism
via plagiarism...
synonym, god,
vector...
the satans bask
in the ***** of....
a reliquary of shadows;
some people
are just too stupid,
in order to lie...
lacking in chrono--stamina...
biologicznie... słabi;
"stupid"...
herd mentality
always scoops up
the remnant...
odd...
not inanimate pluralism
of hoarding....yet stI'll
a pluralism...
BØRG...
the remnant contra the remnants
of...
soft J
Norwegian fjords...
callous Y... a tree,
a tongue of hydra...
dirge, and prior
to aeons ago, a Hindu cremation...
a burial at sea...
lost, labours of artefact...
gained...
a love,
surmised via copper.
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 8:58 PM UTC
*no single man was found to be delusional, having realised the sleeping public, being, just a tad bit: un-delusional; harder still to find a "madness" in a single man, when sanity was even harder to find among the general populace; this is beyond the observation of satisfying norms; there's the rationality of a "madman" and the predator tiger, but there's always the insanity of the herd and subsequent stampede; if there was no asylum notion, believe me, madmen do not congregate... only the sleepwalking masses do; always do.*
you can only understand nietzsche by reading
heidegger,
but at the same time you have to understand
heidegger's concept of pluralism -
in that you also have to take into
account an individualism borrowed from
nietzsche, and in that, you have to attempt
nietzsche's thought process as concrete in trying
to find a bilingual liberation never achieved.
then you have to achieve the potency of
bilingualism.
saying this much the back bile in me
is boiling, surfacing...
the idea of a superman is not
an idea of man overcoming man...
it naturally leads toward the notion that
the übermensch translates into
übermenschen -
i didn't learn this language to be:
one of its people, i learned this language
to overcome these people,
i learned this language to overcome,
overpower, overtly reign as their
schatten könig, its schwarz papst...
delusions ready -
but i'm not buying the ******* joke...
the only reality being conceded with
the übermensch idea is in a conceptualisation
of a plurality...
hence? heidegger's advancement
of nietzsche idea in heidegger's pluralism of
of - übermenschen -
nietzsche's failure was not that
it was a case to be above man -
the idea of his individuation process was
to be opposite: to be above dei volk: the people.
you can can only realise this as a bilingual
strategist...
do you think i learned
the english language to merely acquire it,
rather than not perfect it, and let the plebs gain
their common sense vocab without interference?
the plebs require the tongue being
spoken, but do you think i learned
the language to speak the pleb?
the idea of übermensch is only
realistic in a bilingual environment,
i.e. in the übermenschen environment of
being a man, having learned the language of
the people, and having the tenacity to
overcome their "natural" competence for it;
you can only overcome man,
when you first overcome a people,
but overcoming a people means overcoming
the language of the people,
and this means overcoming
one's nativity -
in that one's nativity is kept,
but submerged in a cloud of "required"
use...
from what i've learned,
these people do not deserve a native tongue,
what they do deserve is
a spanking, a remoulding,
a chance to appease regret,
a chance:
to define the purpose of
repentance;
singing that ailing "holy" anthem of
saving the queen, will buy them
nothing more than kippers
past the gates of st. peter;
this is past thank you, past i forgive you.
past sorry, tell me a second time...
******* better squeak
and call it a rubber ducky...
before the real shrapnel beckons blitz
and blisters 2.oh.
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC
you know what
urinating with
a ******** feels like?
next thing you know:
they'll be tearing off their niqabs
and implying
staples to the fake kippahs
of the popes.
and then tribalism from brazil.
toes are a real agony...
fingers are slightly better,,,
but do you know alcoholism is
such a burden?
it's ******* exhausting...
once you get to the stage of
a litre of whiskey, in between 2 days
you're wondering....
i'm not being lazy about this....
this is the fantastic 4 making an entrance...
there's mr. fantastic / spastic trying to samba fully
extended;
*limp **** ever come across your mind?
i'm thinking squid, or at least something
wobbly, or able to juggle, or with limbs
that have the consistency of a brain, i.e. fat;
then all the bones are in their mouths and could
nibble on you twice-over - or ridley scott talking.
p.s. definite article indefinite article
pluralism (simply... es);
a very serious english complex.
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 2:30 PM UTC
a reiteration of the roman magnum opus of conduct: when in rome, act like the romans... when you walk among the crows: croak like the crows... or when in the vicinity no one laughs? laugh into the night, howl, gag, beg; if there's no one laughing in the night... only today in the night i giggled silly, tickling my belly, imagining myself a pregnant body... seems the closet a man will be to a woman with a shared experience of similis, is by ingesting a tape-worm embryo.
did i spend the past night cackling,
drowning in laughter,
supervisor of the onomatopoeia?
yep...
did i smoke a cigarette,
subsequently spat into my hand
and put the cigarette out?
yep: that was also me...
did i wake to a perfect english
sky mid-afternoon and spotted
regurgitation on the roof just outside
my window? i did indeed...
but do you remember what
conjured the regurgitation?
putting out a cigarette on the hand,
smearing and then licking the ash...
did i regurgitate because
i drank "too much"?
hardly...
i just told you about
spitting on my hand, putting out
a cigarette on it,
smearing tobacco ash
all over the hand, and then licking it.
*kiedy wchodzisz między wrony,
musisz krakać tak jak one.*
pospolite maximum: proverb.
i'll clean the sick during the night
off the roof...
but it wasn't licking the ash
that bothered my bowels...
more equivalent to a grain of sand...
as one man said, once upon
a time:
being allowed to be an animal
unshackles one from having
to be a man...
tailoring and ****
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
*the only thing that is, is that - which is immediate;
with a loss of immediacy, or a sense of urgency,
without an impeding imagining for a scenario of calamity,
what happens to being, when the there rapes the instance
of being, as that, which is here?*
(dasein... a there-after - d-a and being in general,
which for a fan of aristotle, as heidegger was,
is very much platonic) -
of course the immediacy of being,
but then there's the subversion of artistotelian
logic in heidegger...
namely the da / there...
which doesn't imply: a here...
i have to excuse myself within accordance
to how latin was read, and how the "barbarians"
inverted it, on its head...
e.g. if latin was written from left to right
in the "airthmetic" of sentence structures...
then the "barbarians" read it right to left...
the "airthmetic" implies how words were interwoven,
the basis of writing left to right is still intact,
we're not talking hebrew of arabic...
so i will excuse myself...
heidegger is a platonist in disguise,
the mere reason that he appreciates poetry
so much, exposes him from being a true
aristotelian...
on the basis of dasein...
let's play...
there's being...
and being there...
sein-da...
which works wonderfully in translating german into
english... sein-da...
but where's the there supposed to imply
if not the platonic world of ideas and thoughts
that compete with aristotelian sensual materialism
of an empirical point of view, that the now,
the here needs our attention more?
the jetztsein, the hiersein?
i know some ******** is going to point something
contradictory in my writing,
but at least i have heidegger allowing me the gratification
someone might gain, given enough insight into
what i've written so far...
heidegger subverted aristotelian phislophy
with a shade of, actually being a platonist...
fair enough, he made the evolutionary step from
cartesian subjectivity of the pronoun inclusive cogito ergo sum,
into the objectivity of dasein;
it seems like cartesian pluralism than, say, being somewhere
dedicated to a there of being per se...
to me, it just implies a continuum that
allows a form of mortal transcendence and the allowance
of further history to happen... i.e. there's being, and being will
persist in being "there", i.e. a future, which i will not be part of
on the argument that i'm trapped in an immediacy of hiersein.
p.s. *i'm going to ******* **** that pizza with my gob,
it's just sitting there, and i'm thinking...
too much fruit today... i need some dairy fat
and dough.*
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 4:57 PM UTC