from a point of ignorance, or perhaps from
a point of common sense...
  listening to
                  jan lamprecht talking
about apartheid in south africa, and how,
apparently, the idea was to create
      a poly-state solution, or what would
have been a federation, akin to u.s.a.,
   now, i already said, from the point of
ignorance, or perhaps from a common sense...
let's not read too much at this point
for the sake of argument...
           if that was really going to happen?
that there were white states, and there were
black states,
       but somehow, they managed to work
together...
         i'm looking at the map of south africa
right now...
          now...
            in europe, you have countries
that are land-locked, and we just call them that...
but i'm looking at the map...
    and the apartheid beginnings, which
would rather seem obvious to the eye...
    wouldn't apartheid have been stalled
             once lesotho & suazi emerged?
surely these areas weren't the spartan 300
akin and never being colonised...
     it's a "poem", it's not a history book,
                   i don't feel like i need to be right
or wrong, or need to constantly rely
on precision of facts to write, constantly making
references...
            i'm working from: word of mouth,
from someone who was there...
     but i can't really imagine either lesotho
or suazi being so ****** resistent to british
rule...
           to me, they were the beginning results
of the apartheid project to create
      the s.a.f.      the south african federation,
federation meaning: there's already a whole,
now we need to cut it up, but retain the original
whole...
         united states?
                                 how would you establish
that, if not through a civil war?
                     it's still a federation,
the f.s.a.         ha ha, imagine the chants...
    f.s.a.!                f.s.a.!      no ring to it without
   there's a federal bank, right?
                    federal this that and, of course,
x-files & federal bureau of investivgation.
            like i already said, i'm not going to look
into the origins of lesotho & suazi,
       as other than from the project apartheid...
and i'll only cite one realiable source:
  jan lamprecht...
          it's the tongue on the ground (boots too),
         and if he doesn't know what he's talking,
how can some historian, in a stuffy library in
england tell me what is and what isn't true?

Gilded cage so small and tiny
Even singing comes out whiny
Stinking of fake fresh and piney
Tis the season
Leaking water warm and briny
With good reason

Christmas cheer and glasses toast
Loved ones smile and laugh and boast
I sit perched upon my post
A tinsled column
Invisible reluctant host
A heart that's solemn

A longing for a love so distant
The melancholy is persistent
A smile could erase it in an instant
On a face cherubic
For my heart is not resistent
It's theraputic

So that smile that is perfection
Is mirrored in my own reflection
Without a thought about rejection
Hallucinations
About the subtlest inflection
In Salutations

Surrounded by the merrily intense
With drunkard tendencies immense
A bar with all accoutrements
They pound tequila
Drinking away the sacraments
Oh yes, I feel ya

Merry time with old Kris Kringle
Guests all lubed enough to mingle
Mistletoe hangs and sleigh bells jingle
Gifts homemade
Tables adourned and glasses tingle
Gold brocade

Still I sit all caged and flightless
Blind to joy all sad and sightless
Drink could make it hurt a mite less
I'm going backward
Laying here all limp and lifeless
Broke and fractured

Surrounded by the fake and vexing
Artificial and quite perplexing
Reality they are rejecting
The devil may care
Bellies bare and muscles flexing
Lost underwear

So ******* dancing to the jukebox
Lost alone here in the boondocks
There is no snow upon the rooftops
Ahead they forge
Find a room before that thing pops
It's so engorged

Neighbor ***** all dressed in orange
Wearing gold to make the poor cringe
Stripping time to fill her syringe
I'll be her hinderance
Still too drunk from her last binge
Faulty remembrance

Ridding riff raff from the party
People still drunk on Bacardi
Noxious gasses burp and farty
With toilets makeshift
Worn out makeup on the smarty
She needs a facelift

Time to let the people go
Too tired to keep watching the show
Drinking hard and walking slow
Verbose yet listless
Honey I don't want to know
It's not my business

for all I know, she is a woman.
her beauty might leave you speechless
she is special, not the only one of her species,
and yet, she is uniqueness.

the wind whistles through her hair,
as she walks in elegance,
but it’s nothing like arrogance.

she embodies love and protection,
her heart is strong and golden.
and she is a lover of perfection.

she still remembers
the chances she didn’t take.
the wounds, the heart aches
and the days without breaks.

she has fallen many times,
but sure knows how to arise.
her strength has never let her down
and she still carries her crown.

for all I know,
she is a queen without king.
she always knew how to fight
and how to spread out her wings.

she protects her infants
even from a distance.
her love is persistent,
she is brave and resistent.

for all I know,
her heart is in the right place,
it carries compassion and grace.
and she will always make sure,
that I am safe.

for all I know, she must be a mother.
and gracefully I smiled,
when I realised,
that I am her child.

- gio

I want to make something
that will make the ground underneath you hesitant
the human with the sad eyes
and the crippled thoughts
lonesome long tiered vicious walks
down the alleys of your broken jars
your wide is hallow
and incircling everything you lack trust in
I am the mirror image of the laws of lust
and my body its like dry wall, stagnant
unmoving no wavering
resistent and i am not to be spoken to

laws
mercy mercy
please abide by breaking them
when conjuring with society has reached
fatal destruction of ones own opinion
on how I should walk when my back hurts
and the wind is beating down on my chest
and making me far beyond physically sick
I prowl the arena of this panther
life life

and im dumbfounded walking sideways
trailing off and wailing off into
your absoloute cause

wonderland you are beautiful
wonderland you make me cry
land of wonder I shall craddle you
with all the infants the world has to offer
to lay you down and give you
the milk of my soul

and I am sifted on to the edge of the road
I'm diving into the state of being whole
when alone and subdued
cure without a cure
love without abuse
I build castles in the air
I reconsolidate and accomidate simple
translations of your finest trickery
into a meaning with no meaning
land turned into a molecule

on the tips of my goosebumps.

ich bin eben perfektionist
alles ist möglich aber tun will ich nichts
es rechtfertigt meine unvollkommenheit
zu sagen: “eigentlich wärs noch besser gemeint”
bewusst über dem *******br>natürlich resistent der kritik,
denn ich bin eben perfektionist,
und mehr als das, das tu ich nicht

“THE MOMENT BEING NOW, TRANSITION PACKING WOW, BUT VICTORY IS NOT AN INSTANT, BUT ONE CANNOT BE RESISTENT”

“TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE, BUT CONSEQUENCE NEEDING A RESPONSE, MOVE SWIFTLY, WISELY AND PRECISELY, BUT BE PREPARED TO STAND”

“OPEN UP AND BE COUNTED, BUT DON’T LET ASSUMPTION
BE CALCULATED, BUT BE YOURSELF IN RECALCULATED”

“MONEY IS MORE THAN JUST SPEND, BUT WHAT IS IMPORTANT IN KNOWING HOW TO SAVE”

“ENCOURAGEMENT IS TO INSPIRE, UPLIFT AND FEEL GOOD ABOUT YOURSELF, NOW GO AND ENCOURAGE OTHERS”

“IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN SAID, THE IMPOSSIBLE IS IMPOSSIBLE, BUT DOUBT HAS NO ASSURANCE. LOOK TO POSSIBILITIES IN TURNING IMPOSSIBLE INTO BREAK THROUGH”

He was the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on
His countenance rugged and bronze
His smile was infectious and his lips perfectly curved
And his body was a five alarm

And his accent--oh his accent!

Well, that did her in. She was smitten and wholly entranced
Bound and determined to have him, and thus began their dance.

He showed that country girl exquisite things that her heart had only dreamed
He wined her and dined her and...(well I will leave that to your imagination what happened next)
But things weren't exactly quite as they seemed.

Little cracks during conversations that seemed rather odd.
Not returning calls, being drunk, angry and cold.

Inconsistent, resistent, not true to his word, he would tell her he would call then go off for days, not to be heard.

She would wait and worry and fret and stew, but he would eventually call again
That thrill of excitement, that wonder of lust, revving up her rusty engine.

This went on for quite some time--the ups and the downs in her soul and her mind. It all seemed quite normal to him as long as she didn't whine or demand his time.

She was in love. He said he was, too. But something didn't seem right when she would occasionally feel blue. Anything not fun and sunny and light would anger him and turn him from Jekyll into Hyde.

She would weep and cry and try to bring him around. But that made him angrier the more she would expound.

His moods tossed and turned like an insomniac. But she still loved him to the moon and back.

She was used to her mother who was similarly made, so placating and pleasing became a routine way. The times, when good, were amazingly great.

He crossed the Atlantic to make her his wife. His first week there was a crash course in strife. Demanding and cursing rather than just trying to fit in, it was going to be his way or the highway, her resilience wearing thin.

The name calling began, the anger more mean
The weeks were spent recovering from the screams.

He called her names she had never been called. She withered and wept and emotions were raw. Nothing was good enough from her to him. She tried to make them a life, but there was too much sinking to swim.

Her friends never knew if they were on or off. Her children just tried to stay aloft.

She would breathe a sigh of relief when he would come down, allowing them to repair the break from this round.

But finally the ups and the downs took their toll, and after leaving twice before he took the plane back home.

Leaving her devastated and emotionally drained, not knowing where they stood, feeling she was to blame.

Two years later and two worlds apart, they are still legally married but of questionable hearts. She still loves him as from that first sight. He on the other hand, doesn't seem to want a wife. He tells her he wishes they had never met--
"*******, *****" rings his voice in her head.

Why can't she let go? No need to walk away or leave. He's 4,000 miles away, and couldn't care less for her needs. She knows this is wrong. She knows he is toxic. But her heart rules her head.
Perhaps she is hypoxic.