This was written in 1998 by my daughter as a comparative study in her 11th grade English class. Her instructor said it was the best piece she had ever received in the thirty some years of teaching.
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Beowulf or Christ?

by
Kristen Stevens

Two Standards are raised on the field of battle. The armies rush forward knowing there can be no middle ground, no halfway assault. Each knows only one can leave the battlefield the victor. In the epic tale of Beowulf , good and evil clash in the forms of Beowulf, Grendel, Grendel’s mother and the dragon.

Beowulf journeys to Herot in order to free King Hrothgar’s kingdom from the grip of the monster Grendel. Beowulf is a problem solver and Grendel is the problem. “The monster’s thoughts were as quick as his…claws: He…snatched up thirty men, smashed them…and ran out with their bodies” (119-122) Beowulf portrays Christ. He leaves his home for one purpose; to withstand evil. Christ left Heaven and went out into the wilderness to withstand the devil’s temptation. Beowulf and Christ both wrestle with the dark forces but in different ways. Beowulf used his hands “That mighty protector of men meant to hold the monster til its life leaped out”(791-792). Christ uses scripture to beat back His opponent.

Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word
that comes from the mouth of God (Duet. 8:3).

Do not put the Lord your God to the test (Duet. 6:16).

Worship the Lord your God, and serve Him only (Duet. 6:13).


Neither opponent could break free without losing something.

Beowulf and Christ are both more than human. Beowulf has phenomenal strength and Christ is God’s son. Christ “came to save the world” (John 3:18). Beowulf leaves his home of comfort and peace to save his neighbors. “Beowulf…heard how Grendel filled nights with the horror…proclaiming that he’d go to …Hrothgar”(194-200). No man alive could match Beowulf and no man can ever match Christ.

Both of them go through a change. Each is “baptized”. Beowulf is baptized twice: once, when he jumps in the lake and once again by fire. When he comes out of the lake he is a changed man. He initially goes for fame but not the reason anymore when he heads home. “So…proved myself…guarding God’s gracious gift” (2177-2181). He is baptized the second time by fire from the dragon’s mouth. The first baptism is a wash or a cleansing. The second is a purifier. Fire refines. Beowulf is refined into a better man for eternity when he fights his last battle. “Beowulf fell back; its breath flared and he suffered, wrapped around in swirling flames” (2593-2595). Christ was baptized so that He could begin His work on Earth. “Then Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to be baptized by John” (Mat. 3:13). Before Beowulf’s baptism people see him as just a great man, but after people see him as a king. Christ was just a carpenter’s son, until he was baptized and became the King of Kings.

To compare Beowulf and Christ’s last battles, you have to look at what they were fighting. Beowulf fights the dragon. The dragon symbolizes death and our own reluctance to die. “The gold and jewel she had guarded for so long could not bring him pleasure much longer” (2239-2240). Dying means man has to leave behind all his material wealth. Beowulf is old when he fights the dragon. He is coming close to his death and it frightens him. He wants to protect his people. He is willing to lay down his life for them. Just like Christ laid down his life to save us from our dragon. When faced with death, Beowulf and Christ rise above human expectations. Beowulf defeats death - he killed the dragon. Christ overcame death and rose three days later. Both act as an intermediary between danger and their people. Beowulf stands before the dragon. He blocks the path to his people. Christ stands between humans and God. Through Him God sees us as pure. Christ blocks the judgment that mankind deserves.

The last similarity between Beowulf and Christ is what happened after their deaths. After Christ died and rose, God’s chosen people went into a decline. They rejected Him and brought misery upon themselves. For two centuries they were persecuted by Rome. For two millennia they have been shoved aside and animated many times. Beowulf’s people took the treasure and the curse that came with it. “The spell…solemnly laid…was meant to last…Whoever stole their jewels…would be cursed” (3068-3070). Beowulf’s people have misery awaiting them.

As the army retreats, their brave general having fallen, they know they have won. The cost is great, but it had to be paid. Even today the battle rages on and the war will not end until the last enemy falls. Beowulf and Christ, both paid the price for their people’s protection and freedom. The enemy exacted its toll, but it was not enough. The hero and the Savior live on today.

oral transmission
Modulate - Cognate- Division
Cosmic - tuned in like Cognitive Transmission

This is my mission, to

Get up out the scene Live wild as a child
Dread my head, Hear cries like the Roar  I lionize
Deviant be me, othered for free
as the Nomos creates Signifier, Signified
somewhat like a homeless child stigmatized
caught outside our commercial enterprise

but

With enterprise, there enters lies,
Never earthbound my star ship seems to Actualize
Melodically.

So let me lyrically **** your path so you can shift past the cuts
Neva drinking the wine of wrath, made sour by sour patch cats blasted by vats OF GRAFFITI splats.

Culture slipping like gangsters simply sipping at the purple incision
instead we walk Holy like the cotton we missin

Tattoo my Secrets onto skin parchment ,
thats Ink advice ---:  People Lost in Duality, man thats just thinkin twice
Surrender and self-Sacrifice be the admission price
to see Kali singing blood mantras dancing through

Dreams of Ink darshan doorways
Tantric like Siva Approaches his consort for foreplay

My face is like a thundercloud, smiles formed outta cloud highs
Now my 3rd eye, washed in blood saw how Snakes stitch DNA
up and winding
and lemme tell you bro,
its some Nauesous stuff

Transcendent reality,
ego death till its fallacy,
recognize perfection
of life in the galaxy

So I toss out my ID, puff puff, its high ME
don't be Stuck like Ego grinding, Just saving souls don’t mind we,
go Indigo like Love in the margins, Golden souls attempting to live in holy gardens, ==========

We forget though

Neither death or immortality existed in the time before time,  of day or night no sign

There was Darkness hidden by Darkness , all was water but got started quick, by the sharpness of a god spark

kick crash hit, life spit out covered in emptiness

This was it, started from the bottom, rise in the power of heat,
dance tap ta dis beat Aware tapas generates so much heat Indiscreet
in abyss

But then desire became the fire, middle ground never higher than the smoke trails of the world's creation,
Spittin om proir flash forward funeral flames tamed by Tandava siva purifier

So this poet seeks in the heart of wisdom found in the bond of existence to non-existence
Knowledge that  I’m a livewire with a high resistance
I Complete my **** Through high persistence,

Eventually though,
the Fog rolls in again , agnosia forget the Cosmic condition
till then We soulfeed lyrics in-between kissing.

Story Book Land
The awful truth in this world at one point evil put upThis post open season on women and children nowCasey’s trail has provided a predators hand book onHow to avoid jail and punishmentStory Book Land
I would like to speak to the other side of the story in a hovel somewhere in southern Appalachia a young
Mother has left this falling down shack because of fever and delirium she left behind a toddler in this
Cold helpless situation but tonight when she drifts into trembling frigid sleep she feels herself being lifted
By powerful arms the body is huge but immediately she feels a great wave of warmth peace and love
Then she hears the laughter of children many of them as this divine personage sets her feet down she
Alights on this golden concourse then she sees what all the excitement is about this great figure glowing
In white linen is leading the children he walks or glides to her side just as she starts to take his hand she
Sees the nail print she knows who he is her mother sang of him and told her wonderful stories of how
One day they would go to be with him he held her hand firmly with a tenderness that was almost
Overwhelming they had gone a distance he released her hand and said now children go and play among
The wonders created for you and after awhile I will call you follow my vioce it will lead you to a hillside there spread out on the
Rich grasses my little lambs and I will tell you extraordinary wonderful stories so the children turned to
Look what was before them flowers so lush they bathed you in their fragrance their beauty filled you
With awe this was the only the beginning of splendor that knew no end they dashed through the flowers
It was hard to tell who laughed the hardest the flowers or the children then they came to the trees one
Of the older children asked Mr. Pine is it true that on ridges you can make the most beautiful tunes yes
Little one but here it is a little different what songs do you like wheels on the bus this little light of mine
She picked something all together different but he just rolled with it he did it with the finesse of a circus
Clown they all laughed he did many others to their delight then he said children you might like my
Neighbor Mr. Oak he has some delights you might delight in so they rushed to see what they would find
He seemed gruff and stern at first but then when he bowed down sweetly they noticed something funny
About the Spanish moss it was not that at all but a rainbow of flavors all cotton candy every one grabed all
They could get then just a short distance down the rode a sign said critter holler was it by Roberta’s
House ? well off they dashed they loved it immediately because all the animals were just babies young like
Them the mothers and fathers grazed up on the higher lush pastures I will go where he leads I will
Pasture where he feeds me, some of the children were old enough to remember that song a little child
From Florida was just timidly staring and from behind a fawn put his wet cold nose in her hand as it
hung down she squealed with delight a darker child born on the African savanna was drawn like a
magnet to a baby Zebra he played with its mane it playfully shook its head back and forth his smile even
made heaven brighter if that’s possible In life the boy was Maasai a great people his problem he dreamed of being a Maassai warrior
At to tender of an age the lion only knows one law that is **** to live the boys claw marks and bite marks
Vanished from his body as he left the fallen state of earth and traveled to the sacred holiness that is the
Total reality of heaven but as he looked on the baby Zebra he was all Maassai the wonders of his
Birthplace filled him to bursting the little Zebra was his touchstone all of heaven and a piece of earth
Coursed through his veins he will be forever defined on a grander scale so will Caylee for a brief time saw
Grass and palms now glory will endow her with privilege a crown immortal indestructible she wears it
Well it honors Gorge and Cindy her mother will be cleansed by terrible and secret fires best left to the
Purifier who never lets evil go unanswered.
someone saw a handsome man standing at a distance there
wasn’t a mouse with him but could it be Mr. Disney it was a great possibility all things are possible here
earths tears are gone forever and all you will ever know is the greatest peace and love the other side of
the story.

Soundless awakening walk ghost like blend disappear wooden poles that reach for the clouds
They display a crown of glory on the forest floor it is told in muffled shade and shadow you

Follow those that make their pilgrimage to temples of sacred stone here in these wooded
Wonders enter as a blunder but quickly you are arrested by silence and you are now dutifully

Reverent you who was formed by divine majesty melt under the power and sway humbly and
Quietly you bow to that which is amassed thick and denseness flairs in its midst is the nobility

Of timelessness you are nothing more than smoke that rises and is coaxed by a mysteries inaudible
Voice it shares the birth of years and the ageless past you feel the great quiet soul that exist here

Like no other place on earth this is not only the great purifier of air by photosynthesis but
Here the otherwise vast spirit is condensed cradled after its new birth Washington, Jefferson and

Lincoln spent solitary hours and days being transformed the scent of these trees were
Concentrated with the base element of colossal power it formed over eons of time to walk

These forest paths is to release ability first firing the great void of the mind then the heart is
Indwelled then the soul ignites into a blaze that rivals a forest fire you came as mere shadow

Stooped in ignorance you leave as an essential light for your time doubts and questions abound
Throughout the land fear not he who has lived among giants comes and all will be made clear

You will turn from the waste and superficial his light will touch you and you will be the army
Of truth and justice that is at the heart of this great land

You're hiding all your sins in me. All your urges and twisted thoughts and deviance. You're trying to unleash it all on me, stain me with the filthiest parts of your mind, and blow off the steam and anger you try to keep so far inside yourself. You're taking all the scary, *****, unnatural parts of yourself and forcing them all on me, so you can keep yourself clean for her. So you can be her guardian angel, her knight in shining armor. Without blackened wings, or being covered in blood and oil. Stay the **** away from me. I don't need this. I don't, I really don't. You're trying to push all your darkness off on me, all the taints of lust and violence and anger and sadism that you don't want her to see. You can't do this forever. So keep adding to your own suffering. Have your shining little princess and your throne of ****. It'll all come down someday.

You leave the apostrophes to someone else, I can't even make it in to 'im', instead I'm writing papers about the Oneida and Jonestown murders.
The television is on, the air purifier
is dying. I can hear the ***** fan belt of my laptop on the fritz or the fizzy bubbles of
The Cranberry Redbull that I'm trying.
I could be a great sport. Ya know, anything you want.

Jump to.

Make the Miso soup, clear off the kitchen table, buy brand new markers with no recent pictures drawn into their nibs.
Throw in comfy pants. I don't know what else I have to offer, a clean bath? Some books? A magazine?

The weather is exciting, we could call get Pneumonia or at least share a drink and catch Hep-C,
Put our children together to catch the gift of Shingles. A motorcycle toy for my Uritis it is better. The roses from the sweater paired with leather, leggings, and a kick *** song. Inside we can talk about his hair cut and going to California. I'm intimidated by you moreover when you tell me you can eat airplanes with only your bare hands. And even if I'm a bore, I still have Streptococcus. So seal and deliver. My cerulean goddess, with the best, thank  thank you for the nightmare fever you stole from the words I wrote.  And at the end of your book you don't have to cop out and fall along a crippled sky. With crippled words, verbs, and losers. Score cards of different colors. Tunics proud as the walk to the river we voted from Baptism to demon-voter. Stand and deliver, flora and fauna that threatens to eat our home.

Live or die, but don't poison everything...

Well, death's been here
for a long time --
it has a hell of a lot
to do with hell
and suspicion of the eye
and the religious objects
and how I mourned them
when they were made obscene
by my dwarf-heart's doodle.
The chief ingredient
is mutilation.
And mud, day after day,
mud like a ritual,
and the baby on the platter,
cooked but still human,
cooked also with little maggots,
sewn onto it maybe by somebody's mother,
the **** *****!

Even so,
I kept right on going on,
a sort of human statement,
lugging myself as if
I were a sawed-off body
in the trunk, the steamer trunk.
This became perjury of the soul.
It became an outright lie
and even though I dressed the body
it was still naked, still killed.
It was caught
in the first place at birth,
like a fish.
But I play it, dressed it up,
dressed it up like somebody's doll.

Is life something you play?
And all the time wanting to get rid of it?
And further, everyone yelling at you
to shut up. And no wonder!
People don't like to be told
that you're sick
and then be forced
to watch
you
come
down with the hammer.

Today life opened inside me like an egg
and there inside
after considerable digging
I found the answer.
What a bargain!
There was the sun,
her yolk moving feverishly,
tumbling her prize --
and you realize she does this daily!
I'd known she was a purifier
but I hadn't thought
she was solid,
hadn't known she was an answer.
God! It's a dream,
lovers sprouting in the yard
like celery stalks
and better,
a husband straight as a redwood,
two daughters, two sea urchings,
picking roses off my hackles.
If I'm on fire they dance around it
and cook marshmallows.
And if I'm ice
they simply skate on me
in little ballet costumes.

Here,
all along,
thinking I was a killer,
anointing myself daily
with my little poisons.
But no.
I'm an empress.
I wear an apron.
My typewriter writes.
It didn't break the way it warned.
Even crazy, I'm as nice
as a chocolate bar.
Even with the witches' gymnastics
they trust my incalculable city,
my corruptible bed.

O dearest three,
I make a soft reply.
The witch comes on
and you paint her pink.
I come with kisses in my hood
and the sun, the smart one,
rolling in my arms.
So I say Live
and turn my shadow three times round
to feed our puppies as they come,
the eight Dalmatians we didn't drown,
despite the warnings: The abort! The destroy!
Despite the pails of water that waited,
to drown them, to pull them down like stones,
they came, each one headfirst, blowing bubbles the color of cataract-blue
and fumbling for the tiny ****.
Just last week, eight Dalmatians,
3/4 of a lb., lined up like cord wood
each
like a
birch tree.
I promise to love more if they come,
because in spite of cruelty
and the stuffed railroad cars for the ovens,
I am not what I expected. Not an Eichmann.
The poison just didn't take.
So I won't hang around in my hospital shift,
repeating The Black Mass and all of it.
I say Live, Live because of the sun,
the dream, the excitable gift.

(This post is dedicated to all my followers who still stuck with me after my long hiatus. I'm running low on inspiration these days. I am not a good writer but I'm working towards being one. I hope this post more or less compensates for my long absence.)

A LETTER TO MY LOVER'S FUTURE WIFE

     First things first, he is not my lover. He never has been and probably never will be. But he is very dear to me, and I do not think that I will be forgetting him anytime soon, and thus I considered him my lover. I hope you are okay with that. After all, my thoughts will in no way affect your life. I am writing this letter to congratulate you. You are able to trace the veins on his hands; his pair of hands which I was not privileged enough to touch. Run your fingers over his and remember how soft it is. Only then would it be fair to him because his hands are amazingly sculptured. Remember how they look like, remember how they feel like, even long after he's gone. I would also like to congratulate you for having the chance to see him every day. You see, he has the kind of face you don't get tired of staring at. I hope you notice that. I didn't know faces work that way when you're in love.

     That being said, I would like to pass on several guidelines to you. Guidelines on how to look after this boy. At the time of this letter, we are both eighteen. Young, raw, and still halfway through college. Okay, how do I put this in a nice way. He is light-hearted. Free-spirited. He does what he wants, as long as he is happy. He skips classes often here, I'm not going to deny that. Make sure he doesn't do the same for his work. Force him out of bed and make him go to his ****** job unless he's too sick to sit up. He has a family to feed and children to raise now. Help me shape him into a responsible man. I trust you enough to do this. Also, let him buy his cereals. He will still probably eat it in the morning when he's in a rush, in the evening while he's waiting for you to prepare dinner, and at night when he's too lazy to make supper but too hungry to go to bed after two movies. He makes the most disgusting-tasting oats. I tried it once and it tasted like *****. Trust me, there is nothing you can do about it because he's convinced that it tastes good. Perhaps his tongue has been surgically engineered when he was a fetus. I don't know. Either way, love him for that. But don't let him be the one who makes cereals for the children. Poor, poor children. One more thing, be ready to let his lips touch the mouth of your drinking bottle if he asks for water. He doesn't know how to pour liquid from a bottle without wetting himself. He's an idiot like that.

     Oh, and the air purifier in your room? Clean it once in a while. Make sure the machine works well. He's allergic to dust and I don't know the effects it has on him. And his body can't tolerate coldness that much, so compromise with him and agree on an intermediate temperature, please? Personally, I don't like it too cold either but I do not matter in this context.

     Anyway, I have to go to bed now. It's 1:27AM and I have a class in the morning. I might write another letter to you in the future, I might not. After all, both of us share an extraordinary bond. You are currently in love with someone I used to love. You must have seen the same things I saw in him, probably even more. Maybe I could actually get along with you well, if I could make myself stop wondering what I am lacking every time I look at you.

you were my home then,
the warmth in my fireplace, my
chest purifier, key finder;
whenever i leave you clung to me like dirt on the dishes
i carry with me your sickness for
love, for good.

somewhere between morning calls and warm bedsheets, i took
your hospitality for kindness for authenticity for love for truth
i was still drying my hair on your bathroom mat when you rang
the bell, and reminded me it’s time for
my checkout.

Soundless awakening walk ghost like blend disappear wooden poles that reach for the clouds
They display a crown of glory on the forest floor it is told in muffled shade and shadow you

Follow those that make their pilgrimage to temples of sacred stone here in these wooded
Wonders enter as a blunder but quickly you are arrested by silence and you are now dutifully

Reverent you who was formed by divine majesty melt under the power and sway humbly and
Quietly you bow to that which is amassed thick and denseness flairs in its midst is the nobility

Of timelessness you are nothing more than smoke that rises and is coaxed by a mysteries inaudible
Voice it shares the birth of years and the ageless past you feel the great quiet soul that exist here

Like no other place on earth this is not only the great purifier of air by photosynthesis but
Here the otherwise vast spirit is condensed cradled after its new birth Washington, Jefferson and

Lincoln spent solitary hours and days being transformed the scent of these trees were
Concentrated with the base element of colossal power it formed over eons of time to walk

These forest paths is to release ability first firing the great void of the mind then the heart is
Indwelled then the soul ignites into a blaze that rivals a forest fire you came as mere shadow

Stooped in ignorance you leave as an essential light for your time doubts and questions abound
Throughout the land fear not he who has lived among giants comes and all will be made clear

You will turn from the waste and superficial his light will touch you and you will be the army
Of truth and justice that is at the heart of this great land

Crystal, like my soul.
Crystal, like my flesh.
Hard edged, jagged, quick to draw blood,
That is my fetish.
I harbor the wounds of antiquity,
View Achilles with scorn.
Weak demi-god, foolish god-son.
Don’t play the game by the rules,
Challenge them.
Why allow such blood-travesty?
Take the arrow in your heel.
Take it and tell the gods,
“I deny your divinity!”
“*******!”
“I defy your divinity AND my future!”
Use the pain,
Make it crystal,
Hard edged, quick to cut.
Blood is a purifier—a pacifier,
Let it run and set your mind free.
Let it flow till you fall dead,
Now dry of blood, a husk,
In crystal.

there's not a place like this around
where i don't want myself around
dirt, hair, and soot inside the air purifier
so many orange and white bottles on the ground

dollars, masking tape, and cologne
Dior, Hermes, and Altoids upon Altoids tins
cigarettes and hand-rolled goods,
Vice magazines and fashion too

The things I keep in my bed are worse off
Than halves of horses heads that
Even Hollywood couldn't direct.
Until I set fire to the oil paintings and the books

At morning I'll count my rock collection of ****** conquests
And bury them like dead birds in shallow graves in the neighbor's yard

by love you were made, and by hate you are destroyed
mystery and misery in lies, trivialities of realities demise.
The purifier of your dreams is soon to be deployed
a child of serpent and men, I will rise in due time
Know your light will go as dim as the rest in due time

There were
those thickets
of flat
graying trees
and a frozen
skin of lake
out by the
hunched rink
behind Georgian Woods
the terrace apartments
where Dad lived
after he left
the family.

Left to my
own devices
while Dad
delved in books
I slipped out
the sliding door
through
the frost-grass
and the
snow branch gap
into the
unfolding stillness
of the drowsing park.
Sometimes
my sister
was there
with me
in the woods,
our play
always some form
of running away.

In the early
years Dad
smoked a pipe
his thick
blue rug scented
with Captain Black
**** tobacco,
the white tin
with the rigged
ship logo.
The humming silo
of the air purifier
Dad's concession
to my convulsing
asthmatic chest,
close-gathered lung

like the branch bark
that scraped
my lip
as I ran in
the park wood,
blood slipping
across my face
and down
into the ache.

cage me in your chest;
i'm an anxious pet, a hungry dog.
let me chew on your bones,
**** on your carpet,
or air purifier.

trade me like a baseball card.
maybe i will be worth more to
someone else. i never wanted
it both ways, you wanted it every-
which-ways. every witch has her
way.

mess with the bull and you'll get
the horns,
look through my dresser, you'll
probably find ****.

i'm not proud of much, and i'm
certain of even less.
no beliefs to die for, no one
to live for, just suburban
survival, shelter from vultures.

Shades of Love

My trigger to write this is a writer friend from my other writing site read my piece on young love a  
Magical summer and it caused him to lament the divorce rate I responded to him now more of a
Response in ancient days they considered Vermillion to be the color of life what better color to express
Finding love at any age for the vermillion what better place than to walk into an orange and golden sun set there is a deeper world and so many are missing out California is a good backdrop due to the winter
And its difference our spring is everyone else’s winter the hills all pass for great sand dunes and then in
Late fall the mist rolls in from the ocean across the coastal mountains about twenty miles inland at first
Just a tiny light green and then in no time from winter rains we have our own Ireland over night and what better place to pay homage to love it
Is when the heart turns to love renewable under scoring life’s greatest joy to look beyond the few feet
That lies ahead frame the one you love in orange a hint of crimson and top it off with the blend of purple
To pink it will do wonders for your eyes that have grown to familiar you lost the truth how fabulous your
Mate is how many waste time watching reality shows when you got the greatest reality a few feet away
Maybe not on the coldest night on record but when temperatures rise bundle up not a lot of horse
Drawn sleighs left but plenty of country roads and lanes how much has max factor made from
Reddening cheeks when nature will give a natural glow the cold outside will be forgotten as you bask in
This picture perfect rendering of love outer edge cold but the center warms the heart you will find the
Night inviting and mix it with the lesser light of the moon the trees stark and the silver creates in them
Like with everything perfect darkness blends with light the fences create a touching mood the snow
Never grabbed your heart and wouldn’t let go like this the rolling hills stir a special wonder left some
Where in childhood linger with a newness of mind life is a blend but it can wear thin and grow stale but
You are enabled by the spirit within to halt the savagery that is oh so silent and hides but you identify
The length of time not at first but finally it is obvious things are not as they were and they only will
Become worse but you are given the gift as water in motion new purity will replace stagnation when you
Cut a new direction over open ground finding a better way and assuring happiness and joy at first rocky
But that becomes the purifier smooth and deeper richness lies ahead all started with a glorious sunset.

Hazardous fire, purifier of all that is unclean.
Clean me. Purge my soul in a fire so hot there is no pain.
Blaze in me, like he once blazed in me.
Fire symbolic of Hell, yet contradictory, the symbol
of purification.
I want a bonfire, a conflagration of flames, so large it
obliterates me, my name, my deeds.
Paper, sticks, books, wood, lighter fuel, all in readiness.
I need, NO, desire, the soothing, licking, crackling heat.
I felt heat once before, a desirous heat that bore into my core.
He's gone, I'm cold.
Time now to fan these flames that lustfully lick at my bedroom door.

At thought speed what's an instance cost
- adjusting thirst too much salt,
- take sweat stores, make spit,
- later, after recent thirst through
re examine the examined life,
worth it thirsty, worthit intuitively
quenched, no lucit licet vide
Gotta expand the penetralium,
gotta deal with spherical infinite points,
examining a lived life investment in others…

On the surface, just below the mountain tops,
certainty in time passing, here it was, today,
passing faster as I notice, half a day runaway
- it is 19:15, same day, that half later
whiling with a will to feel as fine as can be,
a one in nearer nine billion than eight, all being
the potential reader, the potential knower more
or less essential to the task at hand,
last straw,
Zippo all fueled, flicked in the wind,

telling who ever happens to hear,
listen, living with enough is enough for anyone,

living with less than a full **** sapien ration,
is a matter of mind and enviro-mental genetics,

breathe along the curve, think around the effort,
what knowing is called for to function animated,
become alive
in an active atmosphere of anxious thoughts, all
remenants of familiar spirits, the domain of we
the ones once called wise, for ways we know,

how we grow from suckling to sage stage,
wishing to know, both why and how, right now.

Wait,
we're here, we think
wait and see if we can think a way beyond,
same old reasons for defense spending,
same old reasons for earning a living,
same old reasons for holy terror and grace,
best breaths bet last,  you know,
confess, say you know the secret reasons
for war and hate of the others who speak

as dogs, barking, and smell, of smoked fish.

Starlink, think, everywhere we put a solar
water purifier invented by Dean Kamen,
we could make life possible, comfortable
and all the Earthlings could use Google translate,
to read centuries worth of discoveries since,
Gobekli Tepi was hidden until we could
make sense of logotherapy, personally.

EKOCENTERs wherever useful cost less, by far
than the war in Ukraine, as of 8/26/2024,
many problems are locally mini
we were thinking you were saying,
go exxon- no, share this think
The USA budgeting and borrowing servants
toiling away in oligarchical lobster stacking orders,
selected by committees with donor profit share
maximization on constant priority, ever spending,
ever raising awareness for the payoff on investment.

Round figures, $300 Billion, on a war
for profit, bottom line perennial expenditure,
Industrial Base Support, {nee Subsidy, to La. Distr. 4.
good middle class incomes, and devine exec perquisites. }

Where did who invest whose time invested
in a musing adventure past last edge we spoke of,

this is new, day for with chocolate in my some time ago
coffee, plus the diet Dr Pepper, half eaten Carl's Jr.
get home in time to feed the recluse, useless,
laughing to himself, type, archetype tuned
in to the many mirrored experience enchantment

mental attach mentenough for a burp alert
remenants, remind me later, ding, soccer practice
active bombshell grandma in anybody's seventies,

yes, nuffsthoughtoughtasaid
you seem to think along these lines, where
from my vape charging chair, staring past
a half-eaten carls junior burger reaching out to me
- thirsty and the Dr Pepper's gone, swallow
could we be shared madness therapy,
past certainty, we make chaos spin
phi final analysis, if we must agree
this is it, this is the same river,
one ready reader finds it worth it.
we were rating for trading with whom
they must have wondered, at Bonelli's landing,

spell it like it is, we say bewondered, blundering
on,
expecting edit rights, extend throo wow, how long
today is our anniversary and for this guy, I never
learned, as in when it may have done a lot
of good
to think you imagined I kept breathing, remembering
to breathe, and truly trusting sleep in peace,
what's conceivably real,
old guy's serving what purpose, if not thinking

mere, what ifery, mind you we form, inform
just enough turbulence to take a breath a while
to suggest// a [aipause. yes

The water drips,
The air purifier withers,
The dryer combusts and the airplanes slither,
Breaking sound barriers I cannot fathom,
I sit here in my bed.
To fall asleep,
To all the sounds that I use to count sheep.

Justin just told me about his weekend.
He went waterboarding with his family,
the waves hitting against the sides and the water splashing on his face.
Water.
The first time Kelly went swimming she was 7 years old.
She was in a little pink bathing suit that had flowers on it.
Her father pushed her in the water and taught her how to swim.
Water.
I feel like I'm drowning in water everyday.
Water.
Is the one true purifier of this world,
It helps wash away dirt and sin.
Water.
The reason my little brother died,
Drowned in the swimming pool because the grownups weren't watching and I couldn't yet swim to save him.
I watched him try to keep up and i screamed for help but.. My voice was gone.
I was frozen.
Water freezes.
Water is the reason my brother died.
Water is the reason i cry at night,
The water slipping from my eyes while i lay in my bed.
Water.
How can it be so clean and purifying when it ripped my world apart!?
How can water be holy but yet so sinful?
I have imaginary friends that i talk to because I'm afraid to make real ones.
Afraid the water can't wash away the sins of yesterday, feeling like I don't deserve to have my sins removed.
I watched my brother die when i was 9,
His breath taken away by water.
Water,
Is just an excuse for my sins.
Because nothing can wash them away, except bourbon whiskey and a bottle of pills

promised you the world and i failed
bless the fact you still here, together , still saying you love me forever, makes this world better
gave me the strength to fight, pulled me from the ashes phoenix  I'm your fighter

scaled, the weight I carry lighter
touched by the dark, still carry a torch
felt your fire, sizzling cinders fired awaking my slumber, wanting forever to defend your honor
untainted my eyes, a purifier, gave my confidence wings, we will soar higher

this our love this our fire this our love triggered by desire


liar, never you will call me, I mean it
my meaning not faulty by us meeting
the feeling  pouring out deeply that's guilt free
I foresee forever us be together until our souls get reaped


with faith i leap promise i keep

calm I sleep, feel the same
feelings equally deep
not leave a promise we keep, , visit each others dreams
dying promise
world bleeds, light you shine
Devine leads,  my guideline forever entwined
beauty defined, angels shrine forever mine

nectared wine, feeling sublime love defined
faith leaped devils weep our hearts need
all I see, all I feel, oxygen needed to breathe

The flies have finally flown away
from the desiccated pieces of s*
lying around the courthouse

If I were in Saudi Arabia
I would be beheaded
******, the butterfly started

Dropping off on the lavender
puppies need to work on their camouflage
getting off

tomato plants,
monstrous in their own dwarfish way
march toward me at the bedroom window

Now I enter the guest room
the scene has changed dramatically
it's dark

there's a moaning almost
but actually a droning
the air purifier in the corner

great sleeping
White Noise
Jesus I could sleep for Generations

Now I'm pacing
I'm pacing up and down the hallway
back and forth

between the bedroom and the living room
and now here I am
finally in the solitary of my office

I look at my Wi-Fi printer
working great by the way
I admire its beauty

hardly any dust on it or static
I wipe the dust off
very beautiful

I look at the flickering lights
cable modem coming into the house
that is not the only religion

Moi qui ne suis qu'un brin d'hysope dans la main
Du Seigneur tout-puissant qui m'octroya la grâce,
Je puis, si mon dessein est pur devant Sa face,
Purifier autrui passant sur mon chemin.

Je puis, si ma prière est de celles qu'allège
L'Humilité du poids d'un désir languissant,
Comme un païen peut baptiser en cas pressant,
Laver mon prochain, le blanchir plus que la neige.

Prenez pitié de moi, Seigneur, suivant l'effet
Miséricordieux de Vos mansuétudes,
Veuillez bander mon coeur, coeur aux épreuves rudes,
Que le zèle pour Votre maison soulevait.

Faites-moi prospérer dans mes voeux charitables
Et pour cela, suivant le rite respecté,
Gloire à la Trinité durant l'éternité,
Gloire à Dieu dans les cieux les plus inabordables,

Gloire au Père, fauteur et gouverneur de tout,
Au Fils, créateur et sauveur, juge et partie,
Au Saint-Esprit, de Qui la lumière est sortie,
Par Quel ainsi qu'une eau lustrale mon sang bout,

Moi qui ne suis qu'un brin d'hysope dans la main.

For ever I desire fire hire
Though this conspire requires providers to meat a fate most dire
I would be a liar to say I tire of their screams like a choir
Though inspired after what transpired
I'd still admire a survivor as a conscience purifier
For I wish for a pyre that doesn't acquire souls to sire
But I am not a crier, nor its designer and will comtinue to be the supplier of flesh until I retire and pay for all my sins with all my being and every fiber
For my sin to be burned entire for eternity by the fire I will always love and desire
And when a pay my price I will demand the flames higher

Au-dessus des étangs, au-dessus des vallées,
Des montagnes, des bois, des nuages, des mers,
Par delà le soleil, par delà les éthers,
Par delà les confins des sphères étoilées,

Mon esprit, tu te meus avec agilité,
Et, comme un bon nageur qui se pâme dans l'onde,
Tu sillonnes gaiement l'immensité profonde
Avec une indicible et mâle volupté.

Envole-toi bien **** de ces miasmes morbides ;
Va te purifier dans l'air supérieur,
Et bois, comme une pure et divine liqueur,
Le feu clair qui remplit les espaces limpides.

Derrière les ennuis et les vastes chagrins
Qui chargent de leur poids l'existence brumeuse,
Heureux celui qui peut d'une aile vigoureuse
S'élancer vers les champs lumineux et sereins ;

Celui dont les pensers, comme des alouettes,
Vers les cieux le matin prennent un libre essor,
- Qui plane sur la vie, et comprend sans effort
Le langage des fleurs et des choses muettes !

Gods of Horcondising

Previously Vernarth takes his head resting on the ceramic that supported him between the Hydor photo duct, rather than approaching his hand to the Klismós that Saint John the Evangelist had given him when he passed through Ephesus. In such a way that when he makes the first impulse to get up from the chair he was already beginning to leave the conventional Universe for the first time, then when he sits down again in the chair inaugurating the crystalline body that was looming over himself, he continues to be the Duoverse as if outside the Klismós with its curved legs resembling supporting pilasters of the Megaron diverging to the conical ones that projected concavely supporting the hollowness of its pectoral, which was already transparent like its Invisible Eclectic Portal. In this meanwhile he gets up again holding onto the Mashiach who came to take him in his arms and place him in the klismoi that interpreted the elevation of Hellenism to the Greater Heavens and the Itheoi of the Duoverse; that is, the spiritual deities of Vernarth in the classification of the starting rank and projection of the abandonment of the Golden Himation. In such a way that the Astragalus was integrated; his floral company that rooted in his hands and roots that cooperatively took root in those of Kashmar. Thus, Vernarth with the Ibic Rings would begin to syncretize the quantum and its hyper-accelerated mobilization of physics, and sub-atomic particulars that would later unleash from Alef to Tav to Astragalus and Aionius, beginning his omnipotence.

The sidereal distance began to unlink towards the Calypso air that was twinned with large portions of the sea in the same enamel, making Patmos the union of the speed of reacting in a chain with valleys of the Dodecanese with the Transversal Valleys of Sudpichi unifying Vernarth with Apollo, Smintheus and Befos; that is to say, three sketches of Apollo himself for the theological genealogy chart of the deity Scarabaeidae with species that multiplied together with Vernarth to become the metalloid Azophar, as the main guideline from the knowable to the unknowable, being Apollo the same in the corporality of Vernarth previously rising to the iridescence of Mashiach.

Astragalus: His primary Itheoi or theological picture would be composed and forming part of his feet and the environment of his ex-voto to take to all the summits of the world in the essence and the gift of eternal life represented by the root of the madrigal curdled by his feet, with the root of the Astragalus in flower when it represented the zero hours by getting rid of his Himation and meeting the Mashiach.

Scarabaeidae: God of the modality of the subsoil of wandering souls destined for the physical and spiritual decline, Scabaraeidae Aphodiinae as subtractors of all the waste of souls that have boiled in malignancy, and the Scabaraeidae Dynastinae as the righteous larvae that rise from the imaginary soil to feed on the roots of the Astragalus and all the flowers and leaves of the Dynastiae. Increased the taxonomic genus of the species that would have to remain in the underworld to aspire to a better one like these Dynastines or Heracles beetles in honor of this hero carrying the peg that Vernarth would place on all the gardens once he was in Aorion, leaving him in a larval state, before being sponsored by Hera's family for the life cycle of the Horco-Olímpico.

Nothofagus: God phoneme-photon of divine mass light to build the Áullos Kósmos. From here the purification will rise in synchrony through the final growth medron of the Ibix of Wonthelimar, to the millimetric assembly shoulder of the square meters that will illustrate the Acrotera of the Megaron, and the Iridescent Nimbus that percussed between the Áullos Kósmos and the Vas Auric ” in total synchrony with Patmos, at the same level of luminosity and growth revelation of the Scabaraeidae Dynastiae to transform inert matter into another fertile one compared to Poseidon.

Lepidoptera: Like the sixth piece of crowns of Kafersesuh bringing the fertilizations of the Lepidoptera in the Ibico Ring 6, for the central stage of investiture under the shadows of Hellenika and Theoskepasti, where everything will be endowed with the greater Ibix called Wonthelimar "that together with Leiak they would be transmuted to Horcondising.

Azofar: This metalloid god and support of the bed will take and bring Vernarth back to navigate through the cosmos towards the fifth element that would contract the universe and the Hyperdisis galaxy, to extol him from the neurological hyper brain of the Duoversal of Vernarth twinned with the Mashiach, exemplifying duplicity of Apollo as Azofar device of the new interstellar ships beyond all that is knowable.

Ibicus: god of the antlers of Wonthelimar, here they will carry the Oikos or Orphi Gold threads for the Himation and investiture to anoint the body of Vernarth bringing the aerial atmospheres of the Alps and the Ida as a Mycenaean-Valdaine complement, thus they were inaugurating the solemnity and honorability. Here the quadrature will be the perfect Heliacal Rise of the fourth Ibico with the quadrature of Aurion commanded by Leiak in the cardinal Dyticá.

Vélus: from Ibico 4, from where the goddess Artemis will evaporate in the waters for the healing of the tormented in initiatory processes of elevation of the four Arrows of Zefian, to indicate the zenith of the Megaron as if they were surrounding a Castalia for such solemnity.

Spilaiaus: from Ibico 3 in the center of the ministry with chiropterans, and others from the mercurial ambrosia invoking the Cinnabar of Tsambika, having all the protocol of Transylvania and eternity with the waters of the Antiphon Benedictus”. Here is one more bastion of Hades' underworld dressing for the Speleothemes that will take you to the heart of all the dens of the Faith.

Aionius: from Ibico 1 Wonthelimar who brought purity to all who needed him and went to visit in the dark, then he would find the light when he came out of the cave alive” here Kaitelka and Borker, in total harmony with Demeter, Persephone, and Hestia, bringing them from the labyrinths with the rusty chains of Prometheus and Vertnarth wandering through infinity.

Semi  I Theoi

The semi-deities and the greatest memories in the world that would derive the denotation that would reformulate the Apoinandros that would move along the spikes of the didactic Ego or the teaching of the authentic apostles that would crystallize with Zefian, Borker, Leiak, Kaitelka, and Ezpatkul .

Zefian: Reformer of the Universe-Duoverse, possessor of the four Arrows that will illuminate Heaven and all of earthly Greece every time Vernarth circulates linearly through the seas of the Vóreios of the Aegean. Ruled North: Vóreios (Zefian Boreal)

Borker: Demiurge and caretaker of the Duoverse, warden of the Forests of the World and of the Transversal Valleys of Sudpichi. Ruled South: Nótos (Austral de Borker)

Leiak: Omnipresent demiurge, the vague spirit of the docile water dancer who lives on the water with his slimy Chin, his playful back is seen breaking the lines of wells between flesh and silhouettes. Before the First station, first of the three remaining nights before reaching the Joshua de Pétra crater” directed to the West: Dyticá (Ocaso de Leiak)

Kaitelka: Down Whale ruling the Psychic Trisomy of the Duoverse and the seas surrounding Patmos in the Apokálypsis ruled to the East: Aftó (Kaitelka's Equinoctial)

Ezpatkul: Dóntiakul or prominent Augrum or Oro teeth will rotate through the Scarabaeidae demarcating the Vóreios Vóreios throughout the Horcondising region, bilocating it in the Patmos oaks borers, with such frenzy…!, that from there they would draw the strength of the Mapuche winds from the north of the Meli Witran Mapu, beginning with the Pikún-kürüf.


Distinctive Horcondising

Horcondising or Horkondising: mountain massif where the bodies that claim to dwell in the definitive Heaven are consecrated and evaluated, multidimensional transaction of honorable and spiritual acts to continues life in a more astral and subjective plane.
Hyperdisis: Edenic Galaxy for the postulants, the sky of Joshua of Pétra.
Pólemistes Mapu: Knight of Joshua de Pétra, he used to walk barefoot and leave no footprints; and if he left them, they were the traces of Puma, incessantly seeking to reach Patmos.

Theía Trueno: Female Sister of Joshua de Pétra, she is seen walking in the wheat fields and grasses that surround the Kosmous of the only Duoverse.

Humus Sofós: Human beings degraded and feces of the anthropomorphic brete.

Kosmous Zigzag: Super Nova from the Hyperdisis Galaxy.
Adelympia: Female parent of Bernardolipo, master of the Tarot and catechist of all the classrooms of the Mashiaj.

Vátos Cantarina: Subterranean messages between both families of Joshua de Pétra and Bernardolipo.
Viologiki zoí Pichiensus: Entity of low thermal of the Gods of the Forests.

Toíchous Pirkas: Hill ridges similar to asphalted sheepskin hills.
Kryo Aqua: Host and Eucharist of the mountains that run through the estuaries on winter nights.

Vounó: Mountains of blankets or Matakis that fall on Pichiensus lands in the form of rainbows in the Iridescent Nimbus.
Vráchos Talamita: Galactic ship, a dolmen of the Talamita where they do their astral rituals.

Polyagapiménos: Joshua of Pétra's Bungalow, Incense of God, Child's Feet in the Kafersesuh, Mariah's Contemplation to Guide Everlasting Lives.

Thor's Stella Maris Metrica: Vas Auric who guides the Norse stars commanded by the Norse Deity.

Ekató Taurus: Medium troop of a hundred bull men in charge of stirring up the storms of the deluge of the Apokálypsis.

Karrenios Margaritódis Petrels: Massive defenders of the near sky in Kala Nera, masters of unfortunate land but of high media cordiality with the last fragmented souls.

Horkón: Cuirassier of the skit for non-believers, rosary for believers

Orphilía: Sylph that gives brightness to the dim stars every night.
Australdisis: Intermediate relay galaxy before aspiring to the Coelum.

Hyperdisis: Horcondising material galaxy towards the Duoverse.
Albalalhue: Cacique frightening the Demons of Horcondising and Patmos, recoverer of the Gold of Tychaios.

Talamies: Landowners of the Esteros de Fýlla or Hojas de Talami and Patmos.

Negeshon: Personality or Prosopon of the Mapu God of rancid hierarchy, director of the ears of the scared and nested Gerakis.

Diákolus: Morbid God and creators of theological hesitation in the slaves of evil.

Ramathís: Theologian who strengthens the vibrations of Lord Joshua.

Alcanphor Xórki : Macro transport of the spiritual masses to be transported at the end of the spell of the Himation Ceremony.

Wuaso: Great teacher of great proportions, they are seen at night surpassing all the Toíchous. He is commonly seen with a bullfighting pole in his left hand.

Pooja Nykterinós: Bandurria that travels through entire towns at night when they have been threatened by the evil pestilence of the cold.

Sudpichiana: Region populated by specters of archaeological lands, it is the farthest of all and the most spectral of the Horcondising.

Analpha Alpha: first illiterate in the Sudpichian land and the wisest in the refining of the Forest lineage of him.
Sacraverbial: Edenic lyricism that dances through the heights of Joshua's meditation in dialogue with Hashem.

Getsemani  Sudpichiano: Set of sacred trees of the Sudpichiano sector.

Jesuslight: representation of Krishna, Light of the shadows of the shepherd with his music of birdseed and sonorous of the lyrical flute. He sings and enchants when night falls he is filled with green colors, and when the night dissolves into the beginning of the day he is filled with solar colors.

Pirkas: delimiting the arteries of the highlander.
Slimy Herb: Lamprey's stomach herb, acid, and complement to Ha-Shatan.

Zenón: ox of the good harvest and the sunny day. Strong as a storm of Love of a healthy animal.

I Eikosi: the twenty fluffy felines agglutinated in the dark hell of Horkondising..

Konófora Analfagamas: high genetic range forest. Their voices are heard by the jet-black voices of the night.

Protograss : Mineral of the great universal heart that turns into mold.
Trisolado odogéfyra: access routes to the great Energy of the Duoverse viaduct.
Pre kalésete: Anticipatory doors before opening the soul that has to enter the Universe of Saint John the Apostle.

Ramireaux Astós: Joshua de Pétra's hemiplegic recorder, Selector of those who crossed the preferential threshold.
Mass Parameters: Kafersesuh of Light that adds to that of Hope and Faith.

Ingratia mol petal: Ultra-fragrant and liquidating molecules of the carcinogenic aureoles of the hollow of the chest of the Lymphoma of Vernarth, purifier of life.

the goats enjoy them
a strong blood purifier
the Spanish needles

Purifier
Aqua
Coast
Is
Fully
It's
Clean