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A short direction
To avoid dejection,
By variations
In occupations,
And prolongation
Of relaxation,
And combinations
Of recreations,
And disputation
On the state of the nation
In adaptation
To your station,
By invitations
To friends and relations,
By evitation
Of amputation,
By permutation
In conversation,
And deep reflection
You'll avoid dejection.

Learn well your grammar,
And never stammer,
Write well and neatly,
And sing most sweetly,
Be enterprising,
Love early rising,
Go walk of six miles,
Have ready quick smiles,
With lightsome laughter,
Soft flowing after.
Drink tea, not coffee;
Never eat toffy.
Eat bread with butter.
Once more, don't stutter.

Don't waste your money,
Abstain from honey.
Shut doors behind you,
(Don't slam them, mind you.)
Drink beer, not porter.
Don't enter the water
Till to swim you are able.
Sit close to the table.
Take care of a candle.
Shut a door by the handle,
Don't push with your shoulder
Until you are older.
Lose not a button.
Refuse cold mutton.
Starve your canaries.
Believe in fairies.
If you are able,
Don't have a stable
With any mangers.
Be rude to strangers.

Moral: Behave.
aj Mar 2015
So it's us against ourselves.
The mind is the adversary.
And what is that?
A mere dream within a dream.
What does forever mean?
Some hazy lines...
A blur of self,
A little talk,
Between you and me?

A heart lost in translation is in me, while forever is to be free of wonder.
Humans hungry for home and hopeful for hunger.
Life is one long plunder
For the lost ones of
Silent thunder.


Are these lost ones so lost?
Or will these sons of thunder
Flash like lightning?
How far do you have to go
Before no one understands at all?

As far as the fog found clouding the light that sits quiet in the souls of the stormborn.
The light that breaks the beaten barriers of sound and gives life to the lifeless.


That distant light called Hope by some;
A hope that may only protract disharmony.
A skillful prolongation
To the battered.
It is said that hurt is proof of love,
But what's left to prove
When the uncalmed storm
Engulfs us?

*By light I live, but by love I die.
Pray to every god that we are left in the eye.
The only proof we need is meaning, something bold to live by.
But we crave happiness, and there can only be one,
So what could anyone do but try and cry?
First of many, I'll have Joseph title it since I don't feel like I have a place in doing so...

My words are italicized
Dark n Beautiful Jun 2014
The Windows are eyes
wings like an eagle with open arms.
welcoming us with a little charm.

A gesture to ease the hardships
this recession have cast upon us,
  prolongation creeps into another year
peace talks or summit talks our
lifestyles fades like tears.

Does anybody out there really care?

Debt collectors calling
all hours of the morning,
Paychecks shrinks,
Our state of mind is on the brink
Are we going under?
Like a loud clap of thunder.

Does anybody out there really care?

The front door smiles
and the wings are like open arms
is this our only charms?
recession leads to depression,
Is ruining our lives.
Joseph Paris Dec 2015
So it's us against ourselves.
The mind is the adversary.
And what is that?
A mere dream within a dream.
What does forever mean?
Some hazy lines...
A blur of self,
A little talk,
Between you and me?

A heart lost in translation is in me, while forever is to be free of wonder.
Humans hungry for home and hopeful for hunger.
Life is one long plunder
For the lost ones of
Silent thunder.

Are these lost ones so lost?
Or will these sons of thunder
Flash like lightning?
How far do you have to go
Before no one understands at all?

As far as the fog found clouding the light that sits quiet in the souls of the stormborn.
The light that breaks the beaten barriers of sound and gives life to the lifeless.

That distant light called Hope by some;
A hope that may only protract disharmony.
A skillful prolongation
To the battered.
It is said that hurt is proof of love,
But what's left to prove
When the uncalmed storm
Engulfs us?

By light I live, but by love I die.
Pray to every god that we are left in the eye.
The only proof we need is meaning, something bold to live by.
But we crave happiness, and there can only be one,
So what could anyone do but try and cry?



First of many, I'll have Joseph title it since I don't feel like I have a place in doing so...

My words are italicized
#love   #life   #question   #storm   #existence   #meaning   #paris   #collaboration   #joseph
Shaqui Scott Oct 2013
There is no proper syntax to express how I feel
No portrait with all its ambience or lore can display the imagery of my heart
No sonority, melodies, or arrangement of harmonies can generate sounds to convey my disposition
The prolongation of moments with you bare weight
with in my mind I held the fabrication that I possessed the strength
The strength of Samson
But reality never strays to far from dreams
I have faltered
My back has given out
My legs no longer stand strong
The hair i once wore which was the pinnacle of my strength
has been removed from my scalp
But I last even though my strength has departed
I will remain beneath this weight until I regain the strength
To hoist the weight again.
Mateuš Conrad May 2018
/political correctness is a term used for people who have forgotten, near-archaic social formalities... oddly enough, social-formality is still obliterating political debate,  and is only existent, when met with political "dialectic"... since ancient Greece,  dialectics has been the enemy of politics, since it curbed the stampede of orchestrated, pristine, rhetoric... which is why politicians stutter, or mishandle... what was once a fact, has now become a statistic... which is... something you call: diluted ****, or diarrhoea...

political correctness?!
    what is "political"
about an ontological
focus of a priori
   social formalities?
   political correctness,
id est:
    satus quo prolongation?
as far as i know that
ship has sailed...
perhaps like the Titanic's
maiden voyage,
not blessed with a champagne
bottle christening...
a Kantian revival against
the Hegelian "dialectic"...
after all, he was the Copernicus
to what became the Marxist-
Galileo fiasco!
    if only Copernicus
became a martyr for looking
down the whirlpool of
a flushed toilet... who knows?!
*******... spaghetti
al fresco and Venitian blinds...
fatso mafiasos and
Marlon Brando dyslexia
due to cotton buds shoved
into his cheeks like
a ******* jerbal...
             gallows the schmuck,
hence came Zodiac Leo...
i'm actually apprehensive
about the fact that political
correctness is actually
an: apolitical statement...
seen that khaki attired king rat
scuttling about giving
shadow commands?!
me neither...
   but at least in a dictatorship...
some *******
doesn't have a choice,
but own up...
    illusion of the emperor's
new clothes...
you're right... the clothes
are rented...
   because there weren't any
to begin with!
   no wonder there's a shadow
spine to the "pristine"
idea of democracy...
chivaraly was also,
once upon a time, a novel idea
and an idea with a span of
history (ideology, vogue)...
      but came the undertaker
and buried that *******
with the maiden's hankerchief
he used as target practice for either
*****, or snot...
    political correctness is any ugly
term for what is otherwise
a root of social formality,
   laughable, even still...
  political correctness has no
a priori root to pivot on...
   political correctness attempts to
be a form of social formality,
but it's... kinda hard to
speak about an unspoken rule
that has been passed on
and is anti-political,
id est: intuitive... hardly the curious
child with a stick and a wasp hive...
      people feel unhinged...
no wonder!
        a social formality is within
the ontological a priori focus...
an inheritence that's silent...
but, politics, is never exactly
   an a priori focus...
              tinged with a posteriori
artifacts, it usually cites
Napoleon, ****** and Russia...
             to be "politically"
incorrect, is to what? what?!
                    momentarily relaxing
social formality?
                gender neutral pronouns
of the western world... ha ha!
a much older debate about
pronouns exists in the Slavic world...
made concise be the use of
the pronoun you...
     and of course,  i...
       which focuses on a loss of the title
herr und fraulein...
              ha ha...
told you that nag hammadi library
shepherd and pivotal St. Thomas' gospel
was going to be a hit...
              Chinese whispers in Judea...
the current... thrill of bi-cis-dunno...
doughnut?
    - only two people worth
admiring in the 20th century:
Lenon and Kennedy...
   the sort of people who true... fans!
i make a falsetto,
some Hannibal Lector will be
on my heels, thinking up
a ritual where, I'm actually eaten,
in a snippet of my body, akin
to the tender-bits of my liver...
   way to go... a sabbath encore
of those ***** ****-takes of beauty
Scotch banshees!
       fifth limb and the word: USURPER!
nope... make my tongue
into a ***- (yes, like
****** I might call the urban
of what is a renowned country's
worth of Billy, hence
the hyphen attaché)...

     whatever is politically correct
(mind you, german idealism,
rigidness of vocabulary,
only 3 definitions of a word
are utilised, the fourth
becomes a writers' scurvy
or a ***** tattoo in a thesaurus)...

whatever is politically "correct",
hence the ambiguity of -ness
is an orphan of both social
formality & informality...
who the **** would asked
for a political butcher,
let alone a member of parliament
take on a rabbi's son?!

nooooo....   oooooone....
       lovely,  ain't that
the pretty siht:
sight of a tightening
of a cravat prior to
the folded napkin in heavy cotton
before the state dinner...
minus the China and
the yardstick worth of... silverware...

came the ümlaut...  
the closing of the parabola...
the shy messiah...
the rollingpin of omicron,
the ******'s worth of omega.
   und?!
          ah...
    the siamese twins of H
in the tetragrammaton...
once a wave (W)...
     once a particle 3D (Y)...
jew counted matchsticks
   and read a book...
Pole has 1 to count,
       afro-boy has 20+ raps
for one gil scott-heron
  for every ****** factory
and for every if it came to:
this revolution, lardy lardy,
was televised...
now we're praying that it
could please! please! shut! up!
            
the toying with Greek and
a crucifix that became the tongue
of the golgotha-cranium?
   do the sons of light caste
a shadow?
       surely "we" read the light
from shadows...
   night, however...
is... without form....
        devoid of the triangle
and the square...
    the universe is ever expanding
is the closest they came to
giving it a geometry...
and then they finally settled on a:
linear proposition...
   came the "big" and the "bang"...
and then the, "supposed"
sparrow eater worth of vacuum...

there is an understanding
of social formality
  (a priori)
     as there is a knowledge
of social informality
      (a posteriori)...
    political "correctness":
a claim of being...
       politicians should learn this
mantra:
    to be politically "correct / incorrect"
is to be... apolitical...
   what?  
                just because
the church bred atheists...
a parliament can't breed apoliticians?
  granted...
     the parliament has a luxury
of a god on a string...
          and a suddenly materialised
"god"...
             the church is already a warm broth
of gurgling **** in the shadows...

for whatever the audacity of
youth apparent,
the fervour in me is hardly
as Dynamo for Alt.    
        in what remains an inherited
burgeon of power....
   than a plebiscite of gambling...

who speaks of political correctness
is only speaking of
a buffer zone to the ham trough...
yes, thank you,
I know there is no talk of
political correctness in the scenario
of a uniformed police officer
and me drinking a beer on a bench...
politicised bystanders...
****... me...
   can they flip and omelette like
a pancake?
        social formalities don't need
a stray dog's worth of tongue
to suddenly discover
the arithmetic of counting teeth!
Mateuš Conrad May 2016
r a n, or: reformed alcoholics named, such pretty,
saintly creatures, you can almost yawn at the whole affair;
i've never heard such gracious life-affirming stories as these -
watch them scuttling like rats from a sinking
ship, you can count them, hell, you can even name them:
oh there's jerry who ****** himself in bed,
there's bradley in black-out mode
at liverpool st. station,
james the one who puked blood in the toilet...
and there's me, using alcohol for what
the arabs feared it could do to a man:
dehydrate him and leave him with a snail-tongue,
all slurry and slow - not a very known
sedative back then, it was first used to sterilise
medical equipment used in removing an
appendix, or the third tonsil (e.g.) -
rarely was it used as a sedative, people abused it
during Bacchus ****** - they'd dance and sing;
Spartan meat-heads used to drink diluted wine
(all that six-pack growling and Hoplite Phallus...
Phalax... whatever RAA!) and would give pure
wine to shame someone and walk him down
the street, tumbling... the Japanese... hmm, what
an odd case indeed... i'd need a barrel of sāké /
säké to get drunk... and they drink it... warm,
disgusting... mulled wine i can understand...
but drinking ****-***** ***** warm is sick...
            now concerning the diacritical marks,
so the umlaut a (dot dot)... am i right in assuming
that in english it would be equivalent to write
it as: a a            and whatever letters either side?
oh oh! like aardvark? i'm good at arithmetic, . .    . .
    . .        . .            . .         . .                             σ 12, yes?
then surely the macron on the other variant is also
a prolongation, or perhaps an elongation of the vowel,
but of course with the     e           you're sort of supposed
to jump, make the tongue jump or fire a slingshot
or throw a Molotov cocktail or something, ṝight?
(yep, that's not a trill but a "growl", the english
                                        hollowed-out r -
     meaning it is prolonged, but it's not trilled -
                                        the posh Chelsea girls would know,
puffs and toffs and macaroons, whatnot, oh ya,
yeah, those kind of girls, they'd tell you all about
                   the hollowed-out and prolonged english ṝ
there's no greater amount of ambiguity like there is in
that and why w is said to be a double-u but is written
like a double-v, and translated into polish
a                 w is actually             a         ł;
                            i think this is where we ref. everything
to the dispersion of the peoples and the tower of Babylon).
Jen Dec 2018
Equilibrium, the flow of current moves against air.
Prolongation of sound resonates, and it speaks of unearthly escapes.

Leaking pipes in a seascape painting scrape off old oil;
A wall revealed, it hides behind the canvas.

This scene is spectral, and soundscapes release chants;
On and on and on,
On and on and on,
Freedom is your choice,
And we’ll always have
Daybreak daydreams, to keep demons away.
I have been working on overcoming writer's block.  I found a site that has a lot of poetry prompts and creative writing ideas.  One of the suggestions was to listen to a random song you have never heard and write about it.  It worked, but I'm still not sure what to think of the finished product.  I had to listen to three random songs to come up with this.  One was a new age electronic song with a lot of slurred voices and beats, another was more pop-like, and the last I do not remember...ha ha. Oh, it's a song called "Don't Go Too Far (Deconstructed)" by Twiceyoung.
After beguiling charisma,
damnable excoriations fixedly,
gamely, horribly, insult jesting,
kibitzing, loosely mindless nattering,

outlandish pablum, quintessentially
representing senseless trumpeting,
unswervingly vapid wordy
X-DOUBLE-MINUS
yawping zest.

If ye did not already guess from thee
above blimey claptrap, Das English flap
doodle glib human incorporates jokingly,
kookily, laughably mashedup nonsensical,

oddly, peculiarly, questionably ridiculous,
spluttering total unintelligible virtually
witless Xmas yakking zany tripe
writes hello albeit as Abbott Long Winded.

This uneventful life of mine desperately
clings (nee plaintively begs cessation
from ****** condemnation since...well,
when alma mater of fact abracadabra magic)

assailed, thence rendered blinkered existence
moot. Prolongation experiencing sustained
nirvana, wrought pitiless cooptation diminishing
enlightened fruition. No matter impossible

to believe omniscient prediction nearly came
to naught. Instant karma graced ecstatic grandeur.
This abbreviated attestation cognitively laughable,
a mere figment of imagination. Ultimate acquisition

asper beholding heavenly jurisdiction limited to
infinitesimal immeasurable marginalization.
Representation allowing, enabling, and providing
sustained self actualization, a willow o the wisp

pipe dream visitation. Appetite whetted
via smidgen spiritual delectation. Now angelic
amplification, declaration, and glorification stymied,
and only briefly espied, when unfettered temptation

sensing an Indus scribe Hubble lucubrate fashioned
afterlife became accidentally accessible. Now???
Utter Pradesh futility, imbecility, and lunacy
to experience sublimation viz cosmic conscious

Creator! Impossible to lie prostrate, thence
whisper vis a vis instigation, intonation, and/or
invocation lamentably ordaining realization
sans, re cap cha, analogous to verboten fruit,

which similarly anointed, when faint approximation
(fulfilling fleeting fatherhood feint), the  
******* exaltation additionallygrounded.
Thus a blackened imprecation exponentially

fulminates, pestiferously quakes, and
sycophantically tortures purposely, viciously
increasesing prolongation of deprivation.
Despair erodes faithful generation formerly

harvesting insightful joyous kinship with long
lost loves. Salivation for salvation even pronounced
via declaration for crucifixion. Mine kismet grounded
spiritual gypped facilitation instills voluntary extradition.

This native American son willingly adopted
Alfred E. Neuman disguise. Outfitted thus,
while astride Red Baron (docile caparisoned horse),
I will sacrifice mortality surrendering selflessness

to trumpeting, and subsequent permanent deportation
among grateful dead, who defy condemnation
at the price of corporeal longevity. Hallelujahs,
hexameter hosannas, and hurrahs vocalized.

Transition thru divine gabled (invitation only)
dominion extolling democratization, a lifelong
(qua death short) aspiration alm ma LIX spittled
emotionally kudzu choked up existence. Now

blessed eternal peace handily given after thine
incessant pleading,whereat each outstretched palm
olive adrip with perspiration. Redemption (though
atheistic bent) effort likened to universalistic,

naturalistic, holistic, and cathartic balms despite
all this twaddle i.e. unnecessary verbalization,
sans obfuscation, jocular equivocation.
Translation even more onerous from this: Man
Hue Sscript!
Chuck Akot Apr 2021
Now, if you consciously seek me in prayer,
fold your hands and knees,
kneel with sympathy and stillness,
for there is movement in faith,
there is a banquet,
in the hearts that calls for wisdom,
and in the eyes of God,
I can see the great space,
a pebble resembling courage and hope,
I can see the doves,
I can see the mountains,
I can see the shining surface,
of love that is instilled in you,
and this love is a deep prolongation,
and today, I confess:
I am moved, I am happy,
I am happy that I found you.
Syd Apr 2018
I used to hate the word soon
I despised it
In the beginning it brought me comfort
It sounded promising
Calming enough to still even the most destructive of wars I waged against myself
Soon
I wish I'd counted the number of times you spoke this word to me
The first word that entered your mind when you had no idea what to say
When you were confronted with questions that weighed more than the burden of guilt that lied on your shoulders
Broad enough to carry the world
Yet you crumbled into a puddle of uncertainty at the inflection of my voice
That warranted immediate answer
Questions that mattered
Questions that would define things with a higher magnitude than you wished existed
Questions that would determine the prolongation of my heartbreak
Soon
At first it satiated me
Lifted my heart a little higher
And warmed the blood in my veins
With tingling fingers
I threaded my hand into yours
"Okay" I would say
And lay a kiss upon your cheek
Soon
The days turned to weeks
And when the weeks turned to months
I began to grow angry
Impatient
"Soon" you would say,
And my questions changed to those charged with rage and fury
"What the **** does that mean?"
Soon
There were no answers
Futile attempts made to cure this breaking heart
You knew it all along and you didn't care,
Not in the beginning, not now, not once
I was nothing more to you
Than an empty promise
A warm bed to crawl into when you
Grew tired of your own icicle sheets
Careful hands on a body that refused to accept that this was over
Hands that would have spent a lifetime molding us back together
The anger turned to sadness of course,
It always does
Inconsolable
My throat burned at the taste of that word
Soon
I never let anyone use that word
As a form of measurement again
I became precise in my actions
And clear with my intentions
And I accepted nothing less from anyone else who dared enter my life
The word was not spoken,
It was not thought of,
Nor written
I demanded certainty from everyone around me
And there were no pardons granted, no excuses accepted, no exceptions great enough worthy of bending the rules
And these were the rules after all
For years, this was how I lived my life
Until I met you
You, who made time stand still
You, who made my heart forget what we went through
The tears we endured, the innocence we lost, the walls we built along the way
You, who held wary hands until they did not shake
Who spent night after night ensuring that we went to bed feeling safe, feeling loved, feeling valued
Who transformed feeling vulnerable into beautiful
You, who strengthened the walls of my castle
You, who built the mote
Hung the drawbridge
And walked into my kingdom with open arms
Always standing at the ready for battle
And after years of hardening,
After heartbreak and skepticism
And everything in between
The first time you spoke the word
Soon
To me
My fists did not clench,
My jaw did not lock,
My memory did not revert back to him
And his lack of everything a man should be
But instead my eyes grew lighter,
My heart lifted higher,
And everything in me agreed that you are exactly who we have been looking for
Soon
Now
This word serves as a token of good faith
A promise that eventually, we will be where we want to be
Each time you say it I close my eyes and see the day you come back home to me
Each time I know that you will
Smiling with the knowledge that we've made it once again
Carrying the weight of that word in our hands
Until we are face to face once more
Locking our fingers, threading the memories, forgetting how heavy that goodbye felt all those months ago
Knowing now that all that matters
Is the fact that soon finally came
And today is the best day of our lives
So for now we will store this word away
This piece of us that comes into play all too often
For now you are here with me
And we have everything we will ever need

Soon

(thank you
from my heart & me)
Vernarth's term overage was not exhaustive, as Vernarth would return to Alikantus after his journey to Kanthillana for the Winter Solstice and Patmos in spring. He was collecting each time in the decantation of each corollary of texts, images, narrations, and epigraphs that were being deliberately written on the flames of the Apokálypsis. All the experiences of the tragic characters in Vernarth were embedded in the papyrological Datum once it was detached from the Dragon's snout. This result and action verse became the reconstruction of the cessation of a physical body, whose final living objective was to legitimize everything in which it was uniting in the nomenclature of written prosopography, advanced in all the roles of the ruler of their own history. parapsychological incorporated in its own self-analysis until reaching Everism that reconciles its mythology as something secondary to the Tragedy for all societies that evolve in a focused technocratic aspect and the rhetorical unsaying of attacking the world that was destroyed under a redoubled dose of anesthesia of the disgruntled ideological of being judged by the entire world as a being spawned in the papyrology of Pergamon in ruins. The visibility of him as an actor drags her with the vision of him asleep under hypnosis that allows him to combine the periods of antiquity more than six thousand years ago. C. allowing him to build a person from low to high visibility in a consequence where totalitarianism was exclusive to a millenary East, in pursuit of a nascent South America suffering from the birth of itself from the geological split 120 or 150 million years ago that did not they would be enough to bring about the consequences of Spílaiaus when he allows, hears and tells me to give him the world that only he had been chosen to live in.

Vernarth welcomes and obeys his command to divide N times as a normal body could run and fall into this current maelstrom that would take him throughout Greece, Judea, Central, and Eastern Europe, from a place of origin called Kanthillana which resists the intermodal phenomenon of quantum that would overwhelm him to the point where his entire genealogy would follow him wherever he went if need be. All this was mending and composing itself in those alternating impurities of some paradigm, reinstating the constitution of the random present of Greek mythology already alive in the blood that unites the same rivers that are born of a narrator, always disposed of in the eminence of inspiration either in Olympos, Profitis, Ophel, Kantillana or any tomb that constitutes the format of electric actual mobility where it distills rapidly at the speed of emotions that will always be directed by gods who feel it before they are received by a distant reader. The elaboration design of the works is spaced from the hand of the argument that sometimes tries to hold on to the runaway reins since they are commanded by real emotions provided by unknown forces, generating a great collision and incomprehensible data header for an eye or ear human that needs the neat pause to attend to the discretions that are intertwined and accelerate with solidified sources of extemporaneous mythology diverging from prosopography components of Literature Heritages Sites.

The chattering of the monuments will be of great superiority as an addition to the compiled history never told or narrated where it intertwines with two dissimilar, dissonant geographical zones, distant in such a way that they themselves react to a thunder of life, which makes up those zones that are individualized and inanimate as sources of multidimensional fervor, causing high-sounding narrative imbalances that at times were made as a great source of the power of what makes sense or what could mean at times that could continue progressing in the potential wealth of beings that were never geographically rooted in a system of use or group accent that could be immersed in the biography of that which has never been told, since there is no record. The information that is unknown could not be collected as well as a concept that survives the networks of a shipwreck of the passing of the centuries that run between even and odd centuries of today in the antiquity of the Middle Ages, however, all this traceability leaves us in micro spaces that are not perceptible, nor in the incorporation of chronicles that can be driven by the linear ordering method. Vernarth is in itself a precipitous advance, a quantum of dissimilar interests of civilizations that survive and will survive from where they were forged, perhaps integrating the second face of a life that manages to detach itself from the vital circle, to experiment with its canceled free will and redirect its life. revived canons of a new nuance that concelebrates within the face of an unknown character of prosopography; to the same one who imposes the laws of everything he should for each own individual having the opportune world of him that receives him lavishly.

After the seventh century, the phenomena of the Mediterranean between what simply promotes a turn of the page leaves the hemisphere of each empire more distant from the social phenomena that distinguish us once the stumble of generations cannot count what is not could mend in the subsequent generation. This is why Vernarth's hybrid containing allows you to travel between immemorial times, allowing you to store them and tolerate periods that do not fit the scale of all their wills deployed towards an administration that manages to revitalize their monuments and ally them with other geographical areas that could not strictly speak of the same contemporary, having taken more advantage of them. Such efforts would make a great providence and closeness of all the garments that represented suitable characters who are still looking in their wasteland for the true chronological process that should fit their conditions. Vernarth is a great enlargement of prosopography that he has or ambitions excessively, and that may heavenly tempt him to build vaults that can fit the figure of himself equivalent, of the libertine whims that could stipulate the crosses of the early and late periods, eager and differentiated for everything that could fit in a bunch of flowers like a bunch of verses that would be destined for the available that waits to be presented from the incorrupt mound of Olympus with the chain of being repeatedly presented in the Kanthillana before the god Spilaiaus.

The tool will allow the reconstruction of each elapsed period of time, which is exactly what the submithology intends, to return to live with the villagers who tend to trace their lines of traditions, customs, and much-needed etymology to revive the peripheral description where some manage to to be protagonists, leaving aside those who should be participants in silent actors that intends to expand the euphemism that is only revived in the courts of the emperor that is not even established in an ironclad draconian family monograph, as could be seen with the vast majority of the descendants of the Merovingians. The portrait tends to allocate budgets from the treasury of who should be the budget of the vast majority of true Labrador Hoplites as true ascendants of the great hidden treasure that will provide the eloquent looks of Medousa. This is how much of the vindication of cinnabar must have been established as a burial of many individuals from the Middle Ages in the vast majority of Europe to daub the bodies in sulfur or Cinnabar to try to keep them in the underworld with their entire body in linen shrouds or substitutes, and how to preserve or how to return to an organic chemical environment from which was the union of two beings when they engendered a being by the chemical explosion of a body in the autonomous cycle of procreation. Linguistic guidelines will undoubtedly make the entire Middle Ages the creation of a symbol of faith entrenched in unionized social spheres, made up of guilds of families that were never registered in a regime or corporation to supplement the lack of the Datum that in this work is It aims to decorate, uniting all classes, latitudes, and sectors that could well deserve complete the spaces that should have been executed by intercontinental clans, offering them a history that is part of their emblematic ancestor.

I would dare to name the Hoplithography, as the archaeological social fabric forging the question that establishes the Hoplites as sowing cultures of the significance of their prosopon of military body, contemplating further than all the nations of a way of life that probably would have been perhaps univocal to a pious being of the science that surrounds him, with the loneliness of a being that does not admit that he is overcome by science that submits to autonomous man such as Diogenes of Sinope or Archimedes who join an axial connection in the evidence of the senses, but in the Solstice of Sinope 412 a. C. specifically in the efforts of Vernarth to make them participate that the free man belonged to a Don who was more removed from his gaps of mistakes or successes since the free man was going to be imprisoned in the urn that joins him to his body and not to the illusion of your senses. The gates of truth or otherwise are just a few steps away from this Vernarth Tragedy that asks for a little hint of space-time movement. All the paradoxes that linear time will persevere in great calculation errors that could be an Aporia as speculative logic, followed by the fiction that exceeds reality where the paradoxes will be unresolved inconsistencies, essentially with what untimely arises from an indication of life in a common being that is related to quantum mutes as exhibited by the explosive Parapsychology or "Paraps" that are subdivided from the different scenarios of Aporías or enclaves of logic that are conjugated with the non-existent reality, given to the mechanics of Submythology of heroes, gods, and others coming back to life in a passage of time that is not explained in some expired history book that had more to tell than what its own ruins hid from the truth that could be told. This is a wealth of objectives that this Thesis proposes, to discover in the immensity of the unknown what was and could never be told, and that the past genetically survives in varieties of classes of organic species that continue to be assembled by worlds that tend to clear and rethink what any storyteller, philosopher, historian or archaeologist can interpret.

Physics is made of a servile space or instrument of the paradox, in such a way that the events point to reopen doors that are of the unknown History that could be part of a god that did not exist until the shelves documented him as part of a living culture associating it with its patterns of daily life, politics and the chores of common human life. It would be like the Arrow of Flight with Achilles, perhaps leaving a great inheritance to Alexander the Great in the dichotomy of how it would be Zefian by instituting the balance of the world with the geodesy of the world of Vernarth, not alluding in between the time that dictates it for its governance, but rather the cosmic heart that allows guessing where the thoughts will be directed more than the elliptical of ascent, and descent how far the arrow will arrive because even so whoever finds it will be of the mental times that elapse in different fractions as it is Parapsychology not moving, but more than the time that only moves where it is not or rests to give primary indications of intelligence in which thought must establish the concrete fact that everything takes place in its elliptical, but not in dissociated thought. Perhaps the singularity of this polished rule could show that this Paradox of Zeno that everything that exists could outline that the line that divides Achilles from Alexander the Great is the elliptical of thought because in the rhetoric of parapsychology there are no contradictions if it is that in the Dimension of Hellenic History find in it a distant today that communicates with this faction of the dimensional medium. The infinitesimal calculations of the Duoverse aim to link or reconcile what is being advanced in parallel in the mechanics of neuroscience, without the need to have practical scientific vestiges to determine what inhabits the intersection of a circle of quantum with respect to another that it occupies, a classic example of Vernarth when carrying out the flashing Kenósis of his Kli or Vessel that reunites his independent non-parallel lifelines, but that of belonging to a Hellenic trunk with the mathematics that exceeds infinitesimal numbers moving all the lamps of the Universe when both demi-gods walked through the relevant infinity.

Vernarth is a paradox that begins with the analysis of his initial "V" of Lacedaemon with the intention of traveling in supposed time, more remotely than a word can be subordinated to what could reconstruct an infinite regress, which is what will happen with the Apokálypsis in question where he is the threshold section of analysis of the genesis of this work in the Kanthillana, then with the reissue of the Medico in Piacenza by recognizing the constitution of the area that is more than what any specialist can understand; that is, much further from any speculative stealth before Vernarth or after that other prototypes could arise that are indirectly related to the concretion or invisibility of Non-Visible characters, but with the arrival of the submithology genre, its structure will generate conciliatory physical fields of what that he could never refer to or know if a beginning began when the end of the prototype of an invisible being was just being gestated. Perhaps the genesis of the world is a great paradox that was looking for the beginning of the end that manages to meet with a definitive beginning allied to that of an indivisible that indefinitely and infinitely creates micro spaces where time has no place, only physics links that overlap quantumly and represent the truth of purpose.
The argument goes beyond the linear narration that tends to describe who was or was, supplanting it in that of who will be and will be whenever the bonds of a timeless continuous reality remain in all assumptions. Here it is clear the axiom of the infinity of divisibility that is predisposed by an objective to achieve an unforeseen event that is forceful as much as it is likely to plan, from the Duoverse and its composition of everything including all the magnitudes and tendencies to his feet what will add up and will be charged with what has not been built or discovered making this hypothesis of the conceptual that displaces the historical because the conceptual occurred and occurred in outdated times not altering its objective since parapsychology in its infinity of regression will annex him in every Greek, Hebrew and Western dimension and latitude in an ancient world that will always be composed of addends that incorporate it into the Vernarthian World that in turn dares to challenge that the importance of the world of emotions are not part of the study of this Thesis of Literary Heritages Sites, as an infinite potential to achieve when the Apokalypsis is definitely triggered, prior to the ascension of the Vernarth when it leaves the Megaron and its living vibrating magnetic body. The regimes are not egalitarian with the fall of the determined slave democracy of 404 a. C. It could perfectly have been ruled, making the political destinies of an entire nation that is subjugated to attract and implement political and economic experience unclear, that those who would never be sustained by a regime determined by the inclusion of quantum paradoxes would be migrated more than any political-administrative order, which never led to the development of a new dawn of science of the infinite regressions of Parapsychology that unites everything multidimensionally.

The best choice is the equivalent of Prosopography, which results from an anomaly to the rule where Vernarth's Mythology regulates the organization of prosopography, claiming to demonstrate that there are gods who intercommunicate like Spilaiaus with Zeus, claiming to establish that what is going to happen is what that he wanted for his regency the prolongation of one mythology towards another, but without it being written but "Live" this is a postulate that Submythology proposes, substituting all the method rather experimenting for the superimposition of everything to the lesson of everything that is interconnected, although maintaining the univocal root that represents all the structural, cultural, historical and sociological components that intervene at times as an entity belonging to a reality of legends that border on the reality that must be preserved vividly. The compilation lists of Greek mythology is the product of enormous processes of years that have been developed in their territorial regions, a cultural union since Christianity displaced paganism from the year 391 AD. C. tormenting virgins and nascent creeds from a multi-paganism step that was based on the diversity of their daily lives to a universal expression that surpassed all excessive freedom or nullified free will that contended with the delicate slave democracy or dissuasive militarism based on the Oracles, who never had a real interpretation of what originated from a real god or nature that governed itself, rather than a god that questioned others that only individualized their own dramas to represent them to a god that pro-tradition that he freed them or condemned them to live at the expense of a Dramatis Personae. Here is the prosopography that with the well-formulated passage and sense of defining that the Ardors of the Drama make sense of being systematized from the gods of Olympus, but also in social stratifications in part to the worldview of their own ancestors to be the most faithful interpretive of the wealth that makes up the source that structures those of us who are not destined to be deities, but if we could exist before them with a recognized pattern in average reports that could be placed when Vernarth leaves the confused division of a body that will remain in the Iridescent Hydor of the Mashiaj or when the prophetic appearance of his Mother Luccica is sustained by such a portion of a physical world, rather totally petrified before the hecatomb or end of the world, generating in her a stony and inanimate being, but if sufficiently existing to define her new role in the universe "Ab Initio" of a general objective of uniting eternity of the competo of existing of unifying the geomorphological latitudes of mythological existence with other unknown vertical cultures (Submitology) and hypothetically pool the experience of the elements of the universe as a whole to empower roles among themselves. Then unify everything that can be narrated as an imminent truth to lavish it on those who could not exist at the same time, but rather describe it with the quantum channel, as it is here that Vernarth remains conjugated to his literature, history, theory, and quality of his speech. focused on a fully portrayed and defined system of Patio V of Hellenika as the Fifth Dimension as comparisons that are rationalized with space-time, geographic-chronology submerged in a theme of Political History as the axis of states that exert social change for numerous characters who recently there they come to life, as is the case of the new stage of Zacchaeus and the Sycomoro or Saint John the Evangelist in the Hegira to Judah provided by Vernarth to rediscover its roots, and reduce what could have been but the journey of Judah if there had not been ended in a conclusive in Jaffa where the metaphor that returned to Limassol would exceed the metaphor of Rhodes as an intermediate point that perhaps nu It could never have ended.
The interrelation of conceptions is due to a Primogen of the sixth dimension that was established as it was in Izzana with the Unicorns or Uilef that carried them to Genoa, or of the Giant Camels that were transfigured in Jaffa when the Ghosts of Shiraz had an impartial interference in the successful sea off the eastern sea. The relationships of the primogeniture allow a timeless mobilization led by Eurydice as a living figurehead that structures her Orphic proselytism, further than a conventual desire to compensate for all the unfocused in the elite and the outcome in the Profitis Ilias as the maximum height of reception. Trinitarian back with the ecstasy of Saint John the Apostle as the mobile center of the Hexagonal Primogeniture, the similar inspiration of living images of Ein Karem and its shepherds.

The Birthright is a family that composes them in their faith that guides them by themselves, whose goals are primarily directed by their sacramentals from the first to the seventh Giga Camel. In the imaginary and cultural reference that is delimited by its monotheistic ideology, acquired from a Hebraic-Hellenic scientific connection, whose postulates will survive the unusual phenomenon from generation to generation, but rather infinite inter regressions that could sometimes revolutionize the entire creation from scratch interpolated by an alpha, being the same for its intended end. Behold, the crossover element of this theme alludes to objects, events, or phenomena such as the reopening of the Kassotides as a central element from which the hypothetical support of all faith could be shipwrecked, if it is put at risk of re-raising culture to save the fate of the world at risk from climate change. If two sages met in limits without knowing Schopenhauer or Nietzsche with the relevance of ideologies that would offer more factors, expanding both systems or theories as alternative areas to think free from humanism or intellectualism that somehow reveals itself at the end of the times reconciling all time of action subsequent to his potential periods, more than his written legacies because his potential lies in his social prototype more than his work, given that his virtuosity is deeply rooted as an atheist believer, more separated from any intellectual root of wisdom What if it denotes the non-existence of a Pagan or Divine Enlightened God, what would provoke the indirect means that persists of calling a society whether or not it was a believer? In the specific case of Vernarth, his entire biography revolves around a Supreme Being who appears before him as a god of mythology, and who then takes him to the portal of Saint John the Evangelist as a being of compassion who alternates with him to embrace him and your arms. Everything there is that allows to treasure, store, or interrelate in different social strata uses the divine work that a character that sheds light that can even give more brightness than any star that can be demonstrated in a written work as an essential starting base reliability of an author who is inspired, and is not inspired.

Submithology also replaces prosopography, to say the least, that unites in general circles that cease to be physical until the ethereal limen that converts them into micro translation spaces such as quantum, in the same reciprocity of a point A-B and B-A and vice versa as it stipulates the connectivity of what exalts thought, and its inheritance when rising to the point that would be the “Intellectual Heaven”. Vernarth in the present time of any researcher could attribute that it will depart from the Iridescent Hydor photo-duct by seven channelings of the spectrum of the refracting luminaire but of the concomitance of the observable Vernarth, or rather of what little remains to be able to observe of man after leaving It is sighted by the masks that caustically protect or envelop it as a waste of what is not attributable to a Politai, having conditions of dense interests of a destiny that will never be recognized or belong to it. It is because of this reluctance that the proposal of free will offers greater perspectives in a series of misunderstandings such as Empowering two famous atheists like Nietzsche or Schopenhauer at the service of believers who would never object to the full range of possibilities that they could implement from scratch, to convert a Christian who is like himself to a convert who will purge and reverse all his permissible externally in the farthest destinies that allow him to ascend in freedom of annulled will, not only on the earth with one more differentiated, but as a tender being who saves the world so that the world does not forget him. This thesis offers the man who has been bastardized or discriminated from a social marginal depriving him of alternating with nobles or well-to-do who circulate under the same roof of half humanity that allows the common man to dispense with all humanist beliefs, opposition, syncretic, etc. .) To detach from all vanity that is limited in the abandonment of any of it progressing with all creation that if it is when every living organism ceases to be on Patmos.

The Patmos reef may contain inventories, archives, demographic indexes, religious spheres, congregations as repertoires of those that will form when an external being arrives to build a society that imposes its character of contribution to society, and tends to adapt to particular aspects that the that they will be until today on the island itself, in itself demanding the leadership of an elite of the Passional of Iahvé through Saint John the Apostle in conception of qualifying him with the great stratified of the species that compromises in the optics of converting his followers, as an essay of an illusion made real ad honorum of a residual fragmentary that does little to unify the eras in which the rich and poor will be relatives not because of their genealogy, but because what the poor lead of the other to save him from an end that has another handle of his heraldry and portraits of his game that is deactivated in the collective imagination of all his progeny highlighted as a representative of mutations of numer dark ales, where nothing will be recorded only in this untrammeled probability of granting a life that resides in everything that cannot be seen or named, that transgresses all sources of prosopography as something deductive in this case Deus Ex Machina; as will be embodied in the final tableau of Vernarth's Trilogy III "Like the god who will descend from the machine or in this case from Hydor to Vernarth to take him to Alikantus with his mended golden hooves"
To conclude where it remains to argue that it can attract us from the Intuition of being more than a human who can actually live more than what can be budgeted, without prejudice to common sense that is quiet and distant from the epilogue of this work when whoever looks at it and hold on to a legacy of Heritage Site Literature, and manage to embrace it so that its pulse can be felt in each character it is in, and in each episode of a post-classical story. The derivations of a critical analysis of psychological Vernarth is greatly affected by an independent reaction of a real regime to which his fellow Hoplite Soldier leads him to the event of Arbela in the great battle of Gaugamela, integrating himself into the analysis of a reality that did not belong to him due to because he came from another remote erudition, and was only recognized for defending common acts that reflect the awakening of a new seed of value and temperament of a whole baggage of anthroponymy that could fit in all the spontaneous civilizations that manage to transgress the barriers of time and normal space, here is Vernarth who manages to fit in the names that substantiate in others that revalues them, and could appear as a perfect leadership name to access a Helot, Hoplite or Politai housing space in the same way as It could be transmitted from a leader who, together with Wonthelimar, was able to cross the Pyrenees or the heights of Ida or Kanthillana. as a high descendant of the Arakynthos Mountains of Messolonghi destined for the Koumeterium of the same name where the genealogical table of Vernarth is carved together with his brother Etrestles, under the invisible courtesies of a man when he is condemned being born from here from the numb invincible spirit of the Heroes of the Independence of Greece 1830. Finally, in this penultimate episode that Vernarth qualifies the sense of not being affected by an oppressive cause as being influenced by supremacies of ideas, creeds, philosophies, or governmental order, rather by a divine general scientific exordium that is from where he manages to interpret when the Mashiach or Messiah, will take his hands to carry him to meet the Hydor and dwell in that place with Him. The archivist will have the possibility to investigate and study in situ the paranormal events referred to as mega parapsychology, This way he will allow his vast merciful heart to be a strategist to carry in his inventory everything s the petitions of the living who remain in the land of Greece to take them to those who remain in the land via Patmos. Vernarth from the 6th century AD. in search of his genealogy he can create a meritorious dignity of giving funeral rites to his ancestors, the long-standing family coat of arms became returnable to the Reign of Horcondising: Spílaiaus and Aiónius with the major gods who waited for him to reside in the entire fringe of the invisible beings that in eternity will take chronological charge of a revolving time that will recirculate from all that is not dimensioned like a spiral dragging all the empires that request the renovation of their ruins, and of their beings that cry out for the misuse of this world and new coverage of a new world of replacement; as Vernarth's Strategoi legacy through all the reigns between Justin I and Justinian I of the sixth century, since previously a large part of Vernarth's family was exiled to the South of Spain by the then Roman Empire from the north of Venice to the Mediterranean, from here he transfers all the families of his lineage with his Coat of Arms of Lacedaemon to protect them over the course of more than 700 years. In this way, a large part of those who had to protect the family raft that was protected by Vernarth in the revolt of Constantinople after signing peace with Persia. The Apoinandros preserved all his lineage along the paths of an enthronement ritual that protected the distinctions but also the families of the world in the Mediterranean regions, curiously where a large part of this Trilogy navigates the Triacontero Eurídice together with Vernarth as Strategoi of expeditionary forces in glorious parapsychologies of the Middle Ages moving periodically from south to north of all of Hispania, even alternating with Nordic and German elites, such as Greek-Hebrew nominating Vernarth as a dignitary that will be preserved in the coat of arms Strategikon that managed to be collaborated with the Emperors the century VI, attributing that some of the most robust could be part of the elites of the Roman legions as exclusive Praetorians. In this way, all the family trunk and his insignia were migrated from the north of Venice, then to Lombardy to be redirected to Spain later in the coming centuries to South America. The Strategikon has presented as relevant to the present elaboration thanks to its representativeness regarding the egregious existence, compilation, and hoarding of relevant technical information for the performance of the distinguished tasks of ex-military, being able to be verified with absolute certainty within its family traits with its existence, and continued use as a source of the great Taktika of Alexander the Great and Saint John the Apostle as Magister Militum.
Epilogues Trilogy III ( Excerpt)
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2018
there's is always an
     adhan to be minded,
rather than,
some... relief from
taking to
    the exfoliation in
         sabbath...
i bear witness:
  that i am a witness
unto myself; and a ****-poor
example of even
that being worth
a history to...
         what's being
the burden of the not:
five times a day?

and that all who
bear witness unto
a god are no witness
      unto themselves...
then whoever witness
a a bearing unto a god,
are no witness
unto themselves...

            even with an afterlife...
the narrative of man,
with, or without
"jurisprudence" clarification
is...
             really a question of:
without demons?
   i don't wan't the "human" answer...
the persistent thesaurus...
    away with you!
         man, law giver...
which only took a ******* Newton
to mind a magnetism
of scoop of...
            and yes...
   some ******* quasi
castrato libido...
                    no ******* future
with the sort of genes this
idiot is pushing;
oh, and i know what idiot,
    and i know what quasi-Sheba...

me? i'm past idiot...
   me?                                    ******...
ever wonder wonder where
down syndrome is actually included
in nymphomaniac?
the girl with the deformed ear?
fuckable down...
                      not fuckable down?
then fuckable zeebra?!
                   i can't even begin to fathom
the outer-reach of duch ****...
       ****** the down,
forgot the... ebony skin...
        mind ******* which, definitely
requires L.S.D. tripping...
             like: hugh grant?!

having watched the nymphomaniac
movie, and walking quasi-naked
in the outstirt urbanity of teasing London,
teen girls...
   half fathomable, mostly pristine
in fear, before the mostly pristine
of: don't care...
            i too wished people cared...
now?
             there's not an invitation to
mind a sadist to be worth an *******...
     had i enough money...
and had i the shameless aspect
of experiencing something as having
been denied in youth...

         perhaps...
            who the pervert and
                       who the pedagogue?!
oh god, it's esp. boring,
when not voluntary, esp. in minding
a replication of the genus...
             the **** is up with this
gene fetish?!
             like family like...
what is it exactly...
           that i wished remained lost?!

rats are genes too...
who is suggesting the prolongation
of genes to be the
assuring impetus
to confere in making, said, argument?
monique Oct 2020
Feels like the prolongation of a familiar fantasy
You could only see in movies and daydreams
The night sweeps everything in its way and
I am bequeathed with the sight of your stature
I cavort within my walls, allowing to set themselves free
They say that looking down from the heights is frightening
But you dispel all my fears as you look up at me

All my stars absolve into the dark azure, somehow
it's giving me faith, for once I was sure
Rest upon His steps, reassure me with Your certainty and
Out my windowpane, you perch and I hear your voice from afar
that perfectly weaves itself with the near crashing shores
That sweet crescendo as you come as you are

Real. I come to think. How is this real?
It seems that to find out if this isn't another fabrication
Is only if I come down to you and frisk onto the asphalt pave ways
onto you-- but what would we do? What are we even doing?
I have no answers but for now, you are my perception
Is it too much? Have I said too much?
Where is the line that sunders playful banter
and things we long to say to each other?

'So long,' you wave goodbye, the evening comes to a close,
I scorn but I tell you good night and watch you drift away
You disappear just like daylight and its warmth
So long, farewell, I could say so much more
So long, but to be true, it was less and more than enough
'So long.' Goodbye, but that's how long I wished you stayed

Heaven and its horizon place their smiles upon me
You're long gone but I am still awake
with the thought of you calling out my name
I stare at heaven's smile but that's merely an excuse
to gaze at who was once there in between His pillars
A moment ever so clandestine, it's not mine but forever ours to keep
I wonder how you are and if you feel the same

Amidst that night's enthralling mirth,
I contemplate on whether I should admit
that before the marveling episode,
when you told me you would appear past midnight,
It resembled foolishness but still, I believed you
It was never a coincidence that I wasn't asleep past eleven,
Would it change everything if I told you I was waiting for you?

Does it? I just thought you should know.
Know that I am grateful I trusted my instincts to stay awake,
and when you're near, I freeze like the distinct cold of dusk,
I could never sleep before midnight because of this,
I don't know why but I should also tell you,
that when the sea remains stagnant and stops crashing,
and when His place of worship commences the prayers,
and when the day bleeds into the sky, conceiving light,
I am drawn to my windowpane with what once was
and with visions of you.
You should know,
because it's you.
All because of you.
Midnight Boy.
Voyage Of Talk
Voyage delivers of bearings message,
Written in letters’ monographic knots:
Cutting them pours content through the vessels –
Ink smelling iron is used for the notes.

Notes for the music – and choirs are ready
To reproduce all the ways vocalize:
For the Impossible everything letting,
Of the Improbable everyone rise…

Voyaging sounding, always amending,
Realization makes under the stand:
Static is here – Dynamic non-ending
Of Prolongation acquires advent.

Thoroughly mapped, all the way multiplying,
Paths erase of the roads’ network:
Cuttingly writing is laughingly crying –
Only continuing travelling Talk!..
I miss you
I'm a branch of the tree
that fell into the water
on the top of the mountain

segment going down with the river
following the current
towards your whereabouts

from here the day looks long
but I've never been afraid of
the torrent or the prolongation

if time does something
it is to deepen what already exists
my mind is filled with thoughts
it weighs me down

It drafts fictitious stories
blurring up perceptions

my rambunctious brain
takes longer to calm
and to alleviate its self-induced headaches  

the renewed sun
and the brilliant leaves
the cool evening breeze coming from the coast
are anchors
as the theme of "prolongation" grips my left hand
I can only breathe and release while taking patience into my right hand

— The End —