He was amazing at being a friend,
Would stick by you till the end,
Never let you down,
Could turn your frown upsidedown,
He always had an open hand,
He was the best guy in the land,
Had a nack for bein great,
But his parents sealed his fate,
He had an amazing girl,
She was the best for him in the world,
His parents didnt respect her at all,
And so that was the relationships fall,
So his mother snapped,
And she attacked,
But his girl was done with their ****,
She was so over it,
She wanted to be friends instead,
And to his parents are we all dead.
She bought his sister a 30 dollar cross,
And now they snap and the relationship is lost?
**** his parents i have a suggestion,
Here is my one and only quetion:
Do we care what they think at all?
Or shall we all like them fall?
Should we ignore them? Yes we should,
Lets go back to being what we were: a brotherhood,
Her furry is being the conduit for it,
His parents think they are doing all the right ****,
We can see the hurt in his eyes,
But at least we know he has his pride,
If she would get with him, it would settle down,
Go to one cook out, and be there i his town,
Be in his territory, but dont explode,
I think they should kindly invite her to his abode,
This is crap, and no matter how hard, forgive and forget,
So lets all be friends, and forget all of it.

you know, that if you squint your eyes,
and look
at an object that emits light?
the light travels from the source,
just above your eye, impregnating
your cranium with a brain?
funny... isn't it?
all it takes is keeping one eye
closed, and squinting your other
open eye...
   and when looking at an object
that's the source of light,
be it a street light, or the scimitar moon,
the rays of light,
passing your camel's eye-lashes
end up projected into your forehead,
rather than directly into your eye...
squinting your eye
while watching the moon,
you see it, a beam of light never
really entering your pupil of the eye,
but travelling straight up "echo chamber"
of your mind...
    i think that people discovered they had
brains, but sitting and squinting
at the moon with only one eye...
look here, a minotaur cyclops...
   feeling he over-did-it with
his camel lashes, thinking himself:
a venitian blinds' salesman...
      i'm starting to see the use of psychedelics
as a bit pointless...
        steve jobs was just lucky...
  the source of refraction of light
       doesn't enter the eye directly,
it always travels just above the eye
into the forehead region...
    i never tried it with the sun directly,
then again, i'm wondering that sort
of element exists on the moon,
  that allows the moon,
a dull grey surface to act like a mirror,
and be able to provide the suggestion
of: pythagoras on the moon...
apollo 13, go!
    find me the element that acts as
a mirror, for light to bend!
   to bounce off the moon, and enter
the sphere of night,
   i'll give you cooprdinates:
  in the range of red, yellow, orange,
  and white...
    as sometimes in seeing the moon guised...
what element allows the moon to bounce
off light?
             so the night might become
illuminated?
     please forget mars... answer me this
simple quetion...
                    i want to know,
what on the moon, acts as a mirror,
    that allows solar beams of photons to
bounce off it, and illuminate the night sky?
    can we start thinking about
capturing this question, storing it,
and asking whether it can be used to propel
an object outside of its natural orbit?
leave but one eye open, and squinting,
and look at a source of light,
the light never travels directly into
the pupil of your eye...
    it always travels just above the eye,
onto your forehead, to suggest:
                     the illumination of the mind.

replying freud...

   what do women want?

to act as if they're "confused"...

and to be honest?

   i can't be bothered with
this question,

    i haven't even asked it proper,
and i'm already lethargic
about it...

   why do women reveal so little
of their nature?

   i guess playing with barbie dolls
really served us to become
puppets in their grip...

what a boring question!
   who asks that sort of quetion
and can't see the obvious truth?

noble page! pour me another drink!
sure thing, don quixote...
     and why wouldn't man
find much more in "madness"
as he might find in a "woman"?

  to be honest, i did prefer buying
en vogue's singel when
the prodigy's album
    music for the jilted generation
came out...
                  
     ha... so long ago that's it's
untrue...
          even though i take to make
imprints on the sand with my feet,
i am nothing short of the sea,
revising the presence with
  being the schrödinger metaphor
existent outside the realm
of box, radioactivity, and cats...

i am the sea...

     sum aequor, etiam sum flumen,
              per se qua: cogito...

i am the sea, and i am the river,
   as being: being in itself - thought.

  i am the sea in being, but i am also
a river, as being: thought...

women are not "confused" -
   men know this,
and to break away from the supposed
"confusion" crafted abstraction,
  to allow woman her natural state
of existence,
  but at the same time to break away
from her...
   crafting chess, crafting puppeteering...

i lost the ambition of wanting
to know certain things,
to me i find them exhausting...
i don't like lies to begin with...
   and it's so exhausting listening to
a woman who writes her life into
the grave of fiction, without actually
producing a novel...

(ego) sum aequor, (ego) sum flumen,
(ego) sum: labyrinthus.

for if woman has the heart
to weave her fiction over reality,
      man has his mind to do likewise...
woman in stasis:
              within the ratio of
                                    man in flux;
"irony": influx.

           there is no ontological worth
investigating woman,
for akin to kierkegaard's god,
the never-changing god...

                 woman is a tiresome
ontological endeavour, akin to god...
for neither change,
   for both are a home with,
or without a basilica, a home within a home,
or a home without a basis for
permanent residing spheres of interests...
   man impregnates the woman
for continuum...
   as he goes the idea of a god
by ******* his thought, into "nothing":

       icarus cogito ad res "nihil"...

but i wonder... where do moment of
"prohibited" thought wonder into?
            where do moments where thought
does not exact the coordinates
based around a god (0, 0 , 0) wonder toward?

           luckily, toward things of
spontaneous interests...
     like a feral animal suddenly jolted into
its full sensual enthropy,
   such that we too,
become seemingly woken within
the waking hours, bound to an ingeneous path
of revelation and originality...

beyond the **** sapiens, there's the reversal
of the transgender movement...

     **** in flux -
        femina in stasis.
                          
                         with my feet impressed
upon this earth,
   i see no other gate of entry,
            but the many gates of departure.

wide, wide from your eyes
my heart gets calmer
my brain becomes safer

after a time
little or long
my heart converts to be wild

the shatter gets to my mind
the quetion is asked at time
why are her eyes wide?

remind and talk
i say and look
your eyes took

my mind at wide

wembley, 26th and 27th of april 2025
will be memorable 2 days
of my life
i know
i also don't know why
but i knows i and knowing knows knowing
and knowledge is
a bit likt a ledge of history
i came across the intellectual Satan
and the intellectual Satan is still not the Intellectual
Christ
i wonder about the books he didn't write
but instead read
and
i woke this morning and i didn't
have the shakes of the hands
and i worked today
i took it seriously
and people took my seriously
and even i think
took myself serious
and i was about at work doing
the basic security function
and everyone was so compliant
but there i saw myself
being ordained with the Crown
of the Anti-Law...
the lawlessness is my gift unto the world
while Christ broke of the Laws
of the Narrative...
$6.20 bottle of *****
of liquid honey
and if i were to paint at easier
paint Kauai on astarry night
i still think if should become a painter
and leave the poet with
the philosopher
i think i should begin with painting
the living space
your mocha mocca swizz late...
or whatever you want to call it
if i had all the fountains in this world
under Wembley
the national treasure of architecture
because Rome is Anti-Church
and the Pope has not been chosen
yet
and i'm looking looking
because Big Brother spoke to the denominations
of the Christian World where
the Protestant Man Set Foot
where Catholics we branded fools
in the Mines of South America
and the Pacific Rim
i call the Pacific Rim the ancient
geography of this world...
i include the Pacific Rim South America
and the extent of Polynesia...
Quorus will not wake me at 4:30am
and i have a child devil of a cat
and i also thin k
i think have a wife and a stepdaughter
upon walking into the door
i am to tell my demented grandmother
the story my mother and Ilona
tell themselves
if i were a lie: i'd be many a lie:
i would summon all the lies
before the one truth
because as much as there might be an Original Sin
you must bow before me
when i usher in the words: Original Lie...
tell me an original lie and i will
show you for all the *******
there is no lie... bigger than the ORiginal Sin
which is like Judaism in Christianity
to Hell and Save the Jews
i tell you Original Sin is the Judaism aspect
of Christianity not purged
certainly:
ISLAM SHLUT UP!
just working with a lot of Hindus and i think
of the Pacific Rim i think of the world
turned upside down...
looking at the Delta of the Thames
like i might forward to Alexandria and backwards
to Mecca
i will show my lovely *** i will
i will cage a Sri Lankan
i will rummage in the garbage
i will wash a can of coca cola in the bathroom
i don't i will be very human
and wise and wiser no above all a Dog
and i thought to greater leisure
but this intellectual far-fetcher is a disco when
i heard those Polynesians talking between the continents
to the other islanders
and i have to admit the English are
drunk with Rome
with civilization the historians call it the Afghanistan
of the Ancient World
i like thinking of England as the Roman Empire
Afghanistan of the Ancient World
even before the Accents:
Rome had to be overcome and the Germans
invading:
took the trouble of subjecting Afghanistan...
of the Ancient World: England...
it is only with the Germanic tribes invading
were the Celts finally banished to their strongholds
of gods and intellects...
       cooking cauliflower also stinks
like pushing out **** in roaches... i think we
could have an understanding
i was pitchside for the Palace Games
and pitch i smoked an umbrella and drank some pickling juice
then i drew an octopus while thinking
of my brain relaxing among sponges
and in the quick brief
western individualism has gone as far
as the atomized man allows
because the logical next step of western
quetion and quest for individualization:
nations, civilization...
comes the Atomized Man
the man who blew himself up...
now i see woman being quizzical in their own
retrospect because
i hit a nerve and regardless what comes
later
i see already the olive and the tan
and besides the silicon in *******
and lips...
are those fake camel lashes...
and they don't really work in the Harem of Narcissus
where the elders go
with Bible and Gloryhole confessional
booths
with **** and **** rather than
dog-tongue and dog-ear!

             because if i weren't to walk onto the Mass
being Given
under the Olympic Steps
where those Samoans came first
and then on Liverpool St outside
the station the "western" equivalent
of songs played no heart
but the eyesight of techno progress
i see you dancing in tombs
of individualism
and this lack of critical ego
that i too muddle with self- prefixation
of those things in the res extensa of
my own res cogitans that requires
the res cogito more than cogito per se
or god
because my mission is to last for 90 years
and find joy in what passes
us
and becomes a memory of forgetting
and the twins Memory and Forget

because if Memory is brother to Dreams
then the two are muddled
and we forgot all wong to be right and wrong
and that's why dream settle the distance
via there-being: in time
regardless of the proper
coordinate posit:
but ***** wrong there: even that...

and if by Forget we leave black holes in our consciousness
to quickly abstract universal abstracts
to concrete examples
abstract universals
a priori universals
i believe there exist 5 dimenions
of understanding a shared
eloquence of man...

Stanley and Stan's Intellectual Bias:
because i thought:
there is no Original Lie
as much as there is Original Sin
in the origin of Christianity being
rooted in Judaism
or at least blaming Judaism
for the Lips Lipstick and *******
but not all circumcised
men reflect
strong physique...
if we circumcised men
for the purpose of breeding Gladiators
but what is the purpose of circumciusing men
if not breeding them for one purpose:
if you were to circumcise men...
you would be ensuring a solider class
not a priestly class of people
circumcicision would only be required
of soldiers
who: themselves willing
would absail from the functioning vantage point
of intellectual *******
i cannot be circumcised...
but what if circumcision was reserved
for special concerns
requiring men
to be wed to war
and no poetry about war
but the realities of a war that might happen:
already planning ahead
smoke and mirrors
smoke and mirrors
yes, i told one roofer:
when the invasion of IRAQ
happened
and Weapons of Mass Destruction
happened
and that was smoke and mirrors...
i think i was getting a leg up
but i was also myself
and most beyond sober..