Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Every couple 'a years or so
Our family reunites
It takes a couple 'a years or so
To recover from the fights

A family like our'n
Doesn't party like most do
Ours gets a little out of hand
That's why we have so few

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

There's daisy dukes and forty Lukes
They're racing trucks and burning rubber
There's jugs of moonshine everywhere
And at least a hundred bubbas

There's a smoker fired for the food
the size of two large trucks
It hold 4 cows, and fourteen pigs
And at least a hundred ducks

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

There's pickled this and pickled that
And things you just can't swallow
That used to live down in the swamp
Way back there in the hollow

There's at least ten shotgun weddings there
And the groom might be rail roaded
But, the wedding isn't legal
If the shotgun isn't loaded

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

There's greased up pigs and muddy runts
And at least ten bobby sues
and when they all get greased up
You can't tell which is who

There's horseshoe pits for tossing shoes
And games of every sort
Most of them aren't legal
And would get you into court

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

But, it's the way we like it
Drinking shine and acting out
Tossing things that aren't tied down
And wrassling about

There's music there of just one kind
It's country and that matters
Any other sort of sound
Sets the crowd off like mad hatters

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball

There's always someone who's so drunk
And it's normally the preacher
Last year we married him off
To the back up first grade teacher

There's Chevy trucks of every kind
And one covered in sod
Mary Lou showed her tattoo
"Jeff Foxworthy is my God"

It's the best time of the year for us
And it's sad when it must end
but, you gotta haul your *** away
When the cops come round that bend

It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
mikumiku Apr 2018
Rub your ***** against the window
I’ll rub mine against it too
We don’t need no ******* *****
We’ll invent the love anew
Use your mouth, your lips, and tongue
Give it freedom that it’s worth
Feel reborn, untouched, and young
As sky reunites with Earth
Make your palms, your hands, and skin
Vibrate with every touch
This is love, not ******* sin
Give it, take it, hold it, clutch
Now the ******* of my ****
Are as wide as my own eyes
Via them my love transmits
Via them my ***** dies
Shelby Hemstock Jul 2013
I was raised on Pixar,

Toy Story, I saw that in theaters
Toy Story 2, I saw that during Thanksgiving break.. In theaters
Toy Story 3, guess where I saw that, the theater, and I cried
If you were born in the early 90's and didn't cry at the end of Toy Story 3, you are a robot

If you didn't tear up when Sulley had to say goodbye to Boo, then you are a droid clown

If thou defy's to muscle a drop of moister when Nemo reunites with his father, art thou really human?

If a tidal wave of sympathetic sorrow doesn't crash into your heart during the first ten minutes of Up, then you're going down, in history as one sorry sad sack

And as for Cars.. well I didn't really like Cars that much..

Pixar gave me a Woody
A monster that scares
A fish that talks
And an old grumpy man with gray hairs
Oh and the cars..

But it also gave me, us,
The gift of compassion
Which I ardently appreciate
Thanks for all the wicked good times Pixar
The voice Dec 2012
They fall form the skies to my feet
They glow in the dark and they lead me through a maze
Ribbons of all colors that  play with my emotions
The blue one makes me feel satisfied
Yellow is my peace
Red is what makes me love with passion
Purple are days when it rains and i love the rain
Black is my hope, because the darkest moments,
are my bravest situations

Ribbons
Something that reunites me with something far from home.
Something deep down in my heart.
It is waiting to come out but those ribbons
bring it all out for everyone to see.
Tylor Nov 2020
I dream of us reuniting as the water reunites with the sand and carries it along
So I could get to express the love I kept suppressed beneath
But I don't know if ever in this life, you will come back
With a frail twine of hope, I now breathe

I witness the lazy sunset on our favourite beach alone, every day
Which once we did together in one another's arms  
I write your name on the sand, hoping for the water to not wash it away
Not before you come back and I fall for your subtlest charms

I sit for hours, from dusk till dawn, waiting for you to return  
So we could sleep by the water and wake up to the sun
Watch the sky turn tangerine and then paint it all black
And sleep under the stars while the tides sing us lullabies. Oh, such fun.

And if you ever come back, I will first kiss your lips and caress you whole
So you could immerse all the love and keep it sealed in between your ribs
Only then I will always be close to your heart like you are to my soul
And a fire will ignite, helping us keep the love and the burning desire alive.
Yue Wang Yitkbel Jul 2018
The more timid side of the maple leaves rustles along the wind



It's silvery sheen swings from side to side



Perhaps signalling to a long lost love not yet forgotten

                     From an once upon distant dream



No one knows if the ripples in the air will carry along the message

                    Till it reaches the land of forsaken things



But still

                  

          The lone tree sings



As I cross it



I stumble onto a different reflection of yearning:

        

          As I wade through the river of wild flowers,

                    and greet the leaves with thorns as wings



The catkins hop onto me



A wave of small needle sharp pain attempts to send off their well wishes with me



Not knowing that the scratches on my being



The messages they try so desperately to depart with



The telegrams of little bumps and lines on my skin



Will never leave with me



Like the ripples in the air



The ripples through the grass

          The ripples of pain that momentarily made its presence well known throughout me



Will dissipate as soon as they form

          And be forgotten by me



All efforts of remembering and wanting to be remembered seem useless in the grand scheme of things



Still, within the palpitations of life, every pedal and every blade of grass resumes

          Its dance around me



Every seed of memory still holds onto me

And still



I try to find you within these things



Like fireflies seeking companions in the night sky



Only to find more warmth within embers of a more humble height



Of course, I did not find you in them



I only found myself seeking your presence



Even though you seem to exist within every breath I breathe



Disappointed, I went away for the night





As I was about to drift off to a more slumbering dream



Hoping for better fortunes in my aimless seeking



I saw you



          I saw you within my tea



I saw you through



The starless ripples within memories oceans deep



And as it reunites with the milk and honey



The sky became complete



Every drop was an universe



And within:



Every speck was you and me.
Vanessa Gatley Apr 2017
He tells me he cares
He almost caught me
I had to push away
Knowinf I won't get
Hurt again
Sarah Spang May 2014
The Sun is a jealous lover
That yearns for the wandering Moon.
He give his softer light to her
And easily assumes

That she will chase him everywhere
Throughout the starry sky,
Obediently follow this linear path,
Until the day she dies.

The Moon however, loves the Earth
The gentle shady sphere,
Who pulls her close and cradles her
And whispers in her ear.

Earth and Moon are destined hearts
That dance on through the night
Until the Sun returns again
And hides the Moon from sight.

By day she fades into the Sun
And seemingly stays the path
Until the sacred night returns
And reunites them at last.
jerely Mar 2015
"I wish"
(You wish)
"We wish"*
Upon the stars,
Were glinting & palpitating beyond
its heaven's surreal
As moonlight ignite the light to its darkest night
Flashes of moment dwelt from within
As far as the constellation
we chase, we glance above
Reaching the intertwining hands of love
We could tell the untold stories,
Laugh out as much as the oxygen
could release our breathe &
On top of that thrilling rides,
we'd enjoy'd the most
Like the exceptional momentous in time
Freely be open to each other's locket key
Soul reunites upon eternal
Pounding me once again,
Of having close in you
Like we could have this everything
For once, twice or many times.
The Stars that we will shine
Let's keep it For real.
the countless times .

**
March 18, 2015
Jerelii
Copyright
Venus Rose Vibes Apr 2013
Pretty girl under coverage of a plaid jacket
Not conformed as the rest
They have lit the fire originated from a spark in her eye
Contest the predicted end to a desolate world
Instead lifted spirit reunites with what she never had, but was always there
Brendan Watch May 2014
Pity poison, pity party,
pity is pretty *******
at your Pompadour proposition,
your parcel proposal!
O, a cardboard box,
the symbol of the distance crossed
and darker shadows to bright love lost.
What a world of merriment their melody foretells
as you shake them like little silver bells.
Go to hell.
Car chase scenes excite you; sit tight, you,
as your flight from fight reunites you with
the boy who never knew
what you are.
You are jelly in a jam, so your ham-****** attitude
leads the lamb of love to slaughter;
the s leads laughter on, standing for *** (check male or female),
stimulation, stimulant, squabble, ****, ****, sext--
a wrecked relationship sinking, sinking,
and being nearer, my ******* God, to thee
makes me sick between my bones
but the iceberg of your persistence has to melt,
even with a bit of red paint.
Your dainty hopes that you could go
two for two with hearts and minds
not only disgust, but your lust broke my trust
and I must, must, must ring the bells.
Class dismissed. I hope you've learned.
Mande Thul Jul 2015
Traumatized puppy
Physical wounds healed, scarred over
scared again and again
Noises startle, passers-by threaten
Fear is real, not imagined
Stunts your mental health
Love and compassion can not cure all
Horrific consequences of sustained trauma
You are not to blame
Health whole in body and mind
Zooming, happy baby dog
Together we will be in Heaven
Baby dog, my angel dog
Missing you until Death
Reunites
avital Oct 2013
Let’s be lovers
and speak slow and soft
when the moon reunites itself with the stars
and the words that slip through our lips will
fly upwards like fireflies and
form the clandestine meanings
deep within our whispered confessions
spelled out in the constellations above our heads
sentences gathered and tied
a crown of wildflowers
along with all of the words in between so that
even the broken fragments have
something to hold on to.
helena ferpin Dec 2012
You drift away
On the river of memory
And running on the bank,
I cry for you to come back
But slowly you move away,
And in my reckless run,
Little by little, I catch up to you
A little bit of lost ground.

On occasion you dive
In the moving liquid
Or, brushing against brambles,
You hesitate and you wait for me
Hiding your face
In your pulled up dress,
From fear that you'll be disfigured
By shame and regret.

You're nothing but a wreck,
Dead dog in the water
But I'm still your slave
And dive into the stream
When memory ends
And the ocean of forget,
Breaks our hearts and our heads,
The never reunites us.
This is a song by Serge Gainsbourg.
James M Boyer Jul 2010
There’s nowhere like never
Purgatory of the mind
The info man has the answers
Behind his booth made of time
4th dimension relapse
As the minute hand proceeds the hour
Noon falls victim to midnight
As the stars regain their power.

We remove soul from host
In a biological defeat
Don’t judge a man’s travels
Until you’ve read the stories
Told by the lines in the soles of his feet.

With each worth a thousand words
Pictures paint themselves so clear
But can’t capture the brilliance of a soul
Until the last breath is gasped here.
Then moon recites the epitaph
That’s etched into his face
From the creators of his brutal beauty
he starts off slow to set the pace.

We remove soul from host
In a biological defeat
Don’t judge a man’s travels
Until you’ve read the stories
Told by the lines in the soles of his feet.

And the mother reunites our flesh
With the sanctity of her Murth
For we have reached the finish line
To lay our bodies beneath the dirt.
And our fathers faces have faded
As we forget all that we’ve been taught
Except his final lesson
Of the art of selfless thought.

We remove soul from host
In a biological defeat
Don’t judge a mans travels
Until you’ve read the stories
Told by the lines in the soles of his feet.
written June 4, 2009- From Through Our Hands We Speak From The Heart
As nighttime befalls me,
and the ocean of darkness engulfs us all
and the denizens of the world escape to the realm of dreams,
I do not accept slumber's embrace.
Rather, I cease to breathe,
and allow my being to become one with the abyss.
For you are not with me,
I die.

But it is not that I have been overcome
by the incessant pangs of our partition, no.
My love for you is greater than love,
and never would I desire to abandon you.
Yet to be at such a distance from your perfection
tears the fabric of my very being.
For life without you can only be life,
as red without colour can be red.

So while my mortal body does perish,
my spirit withdraws itself from its corporal shell,
and instantly, it dwells with you.
For the domain of my spirit need not be traversed,
as the ethereal plane knows not space.
And when your repose falls within the gaze of my soul,
it cannot help but marvel at your radiance
which illuminates all of creation.
Thereupon it caresses you, enveloping your very being
and shielding you from all wickedness
that would attempt to extinguish your brilliance
or diminish the heavenly flames which burn within your eyes.

And with you it remains,
until the pull of the sun grows too strong,
and it can cling to you no longer.
Wistfully, it reunites with my body,
awaiting once more the fall of darkness
when it can find paradise by your side anew.

Thus every night I let death fall upon me
so that my soul can accompany yours.
And when such a time comes
that I must forever relinquish my life,
my soul shall be with you evermore.
And we shall be one,
our souls intertwined,
bound unto eternity.
Sneha shenoy Nov 2017
What is love ?
"A strong feeling of affection."
Is that all it mean to you??
O poor Oxford you miserably fail!!!!
Its not a mere logical definition,
Its a exalted experience..
Not about begging and expecting,
But extension of warmth form within,
Dissolving ego making one bowdown...
Your pride no more chokes you,
Instead you love everything around..
That which makes you intoxicated when  higherself seeks supreme self.. Thy hunger of incompleteness is lost,
Its a different dimension that reunites you with the cosmic scape..
Its a transformation to conscious sensitive being..
Constantly it changed everything.
Overthrows hopes among people,
Varied thoughts, feelings, and demands
Ignites humans’ inability to understand, how
Deadly this virus can be.

Its existence
Creates a big change.
A change that made everything
Fall into place and Space
Or nearly destroys what’s in order.

How did the virus earn its crown?
It is on its pedestal!
Corona,
Corona, the virus!
Virus and it's viral.

Could it be a blessing or not?
Could we be grateful that it exists?
Or it merely
Destroys
Harmony and order.

Corona,
Consoles people
Offers love and care to others;
Reunites shattered and damaged ones;
Nestles kindness and patience to one and all;
Allows bonds and relations to grow deeper.

Is it an epiphany?
A sort of vision to see how beautiful our future will be,
If everyone cares to see the good in each other?
To admire and to appreciate the efforts and hard work of all men
Regardless of life status?
Is it not great to see how people around the globe love one another?

This pandemic shocked the world indeed.
It paved a way to heal what’s broken
Living and non-living things;
Yes, let us include everything that God has created.
We have forgotten our sole responsibility to His gifts.

Corona,
Cures and heals.
Optimistically changes the heart of many;
Rhetorically awakens all to contemplate;
Obliged everybody to care;
Now, behold and pray.

This too shall pass.
Many have died but this would not end
Your hope and faith.
Together we fight,
Together we uncrown
Corona!
from my book ABCs of LIFE

This too shall pass. Keep safe everyone.
Drew Renquest Mar 2014
Suspended in your grasp, it seems time has been swallowed in the same bite as so my passion. This desire may never be quenched as long as the blood runs red. Embrace me till the oceans dry, when the Earth reunites with sky. I'll lay here in peace as long as I may float in your eyes.
Con May 2020
The sound of splashing water
as it reunites with the shore,
The scent of freshly-bloomed garden
as the wind revs them,
The taste of sweet, juicy tangerines,
crisp as plucked from its tree
The glimpse of human eyes
as intimate interaction sparks
Oh, to feel these all —
Existential.
It’s a good day.
Keiri Aug 2019
Bubbling in the oceans deep.
This is where I sleep.
Greeted by the white shark.
As he gently dissapears in the dark.

Charmed by the massive whale.
Who reunites with his female.
My fingertips streak the ocean's floor.
Nice and warmed by the earth's core.

Streaking over the lonely anemone.
To find out he was never alone.
Cuddled by shellfish.
I never wanted to seem selfish.

It all seems like a dream.
Gently flowing with the stream.
In the end it's just how I feel.
But for me, it'll always be real.
The beauty of darkness, and cherishing lonelyness. Accepting the events and understanding the consequences, however dark they may seem. Life is a chain of action and reaction, and only acceptation will get us out of the never-ending circles.
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)
Bryan Nov 2017
Across divides
Peering eyes scry
for places left to hide
and realize that simple minds
of men in mines
could be her spies.
Across divides,
tearing skies cry
like bolts within the night.
Fireflies coalesce
in rivers of molten light.
On the path of least resistance,
magic flows and reunites
in such a pattern,
such a vision,
to witness is to invite.
Across divides slumbers ice.
Peaceful winter's grasp: a vice.
Sister to the frigid,
Magic hunts for winter's light
While princes trap rabbits,
And marvel at sunlight.
Across divides,
princes realize
that the morning has advanced,
and start heading back inside.
A monster wakes from sleep,
rousing milky, blackened eyes.
It cries at its own horror:
Tears that never dry.
It makes its way into the day
wearing death as a disguise.
Across divides.
smallhands Feb 2017
thank heavens I realised he can't treat me that way
what kind of man tells you of his infatuation,
gets separated from you, reunites with you,
then exerts his energy to secret affairs, the kind
that set you beside another woman and allows
people to shine flashlights into your eyes?
what kind of twisted love story is that?
not mine, no, not mine

-c.j.
Frankie Gestone Jul 2020
I yearn for the smell of autumn
A kiss from nature in the maze of trees
The ever changing colors and falling of days
The night owl's hoots whisper in my ears like dreams
And the day squirrel buries messages throughout the earth
The breezy twilight comes without warning revealing her beauty only to those lucky to see
The harvest moon reunites her golden glow with the black elegance of the sky
And the stars dance around decoratively for your eyes and mine
autumn fall dreams love peace leaves nature life
Lady Liberty's Tears

We were once spirited and life building souls
America was thriving

America was inventive
Lady Liberty stood tall , smiling

Shouting to the  world
how warm her flame 
Fired up a nation
sought on more than surviving

We were united people

We worked together and started thriving. 

Then fear, poverty, and misguided politics
Derailed a once smooth running Liberty train.
We made friends of other nations

Pushing our now colder voices and words

As lady Liberty cries and burns out her flame

We must end the quarrels with more than our neighbors

Our nation’s allies

We must live together and rebuild still great 
Neighborhood communities

Heal our cities

We must end the silly family fights

And become a united heart once more

This is where America and the world

Starts the path to true prosperity

And the globe reunites
[August 26, 2016]

Frozen inside an iron shell he hates
He lies frozen in time battling his fate
He cannot move, paralyzed he is awake
In a white room they watch him and wait
 
His family stare at him with sorrow and regret
They don't know he can see them watch and accept
The lab coats look at him with ever growing disgust
In hushed whispers, his accidental death they discuss
 
Within his broken mind he battles his growing fear
He fights an unseen enemy, holding him inside a sphere
A ball of thought holds him captive within a useless shell
As if his body were held in place by an evil spell
 
The lab coats group in the room with an evil scheme
They add something to the medicine, then leave him to dream
He lies silently, he awaits his inevitable death
But instead, the dead once more draw breath
 
He breaks the bindings, he tears out cords
He removes the wires, he runs like a corpse
He opens the door, the lab coats run and scream
He stabs them with a pen and slaughters the scene
 
With blood splattered against his clothes
He runs to the light, returning to the life he knows
He escapes his coma, reunites with his enemy
He collapses in front of his family, dying from ketamine
Escape [August 26, 2016]
Category: Fiction/Medical Conditions
A man trapped in a coma is aware of everything around him. The doctors scheme to **** him, and he attempts to escape.
Karisa Brown Nov 2019
Her riot forced her into predomination
Of all the abolishment this was
The final end

She played the game
Far too long
To not give in

But to leave
All for once
And all at once

Blackhole ****** thru me
Turned toward
The torched Sun
Only to peel the bleached
infectious skin

Vibrating in the
Noise I call THE WIND
It whispers at first
Then turns up the volume
To see a traveling herse

Jokingly I submerse my body
Only to find that the
Purest necter
Negotiated on that tree
The vines wrapped around my leg
Wouldnt
Let me Go
Thru it
Around it
It wanted to eat me whole
And so I let it
For a season maybe two
But wasn't this the me
I'd hoped for lived with
It gets confusing
And this mess
Looks like a mess
A pig stye room
And after eating dinner
She roast a toast
To her dead lovely awaiting
Husband
Patiently they walked up and over
The corpses law

Jagged and weary
Their bones fell
Into each other
Lost they put the
Wrong pieces together
And now he's she
And him is her
Everything doesn't
Make sense
Except for true earth
Which vibrates
At a frequency
That is drums like WIND
Like fire
Like all the crusted attire
These women warmed me with

Nothing beats the flesh
Of another true warrior
Nothi,e and I mean
NOTHING
REUNITES AS IMPALLING
AS HIS FLESH RIPPENING FOR HIS OWN URGES

Kisses by sins nature
He throws shame and anger
Meeting her at the door
He greets his afterstare
Seema Jun 2017
The echoes, reunites shattered realms
Which was ingraved, many years back
Famous for it's soulful infrastructure
Nothing did the place ever lack

Wind brushes away eons of dirt
Rain cleanses the pillars to shine
Vines flourish with glorious flowers
This fantasy is growing in my mind...

Golden sun, beams its rays over the meadows
Where sleeps many bodies from the past
There in the corner, stands, an ancient shrine
Which once, was worshipped by this cast

On top of a pillar, there is an encryption
Blurred with dust, it's hard to understand
Standing on the bare ground, I feel the sea,
So near, as my feet feels the moist sand

I am on the opposite side of the shrine
Admiring the masterpiece of such kind
Wondering why no trace of humans around
This fantasy is growing in my mind...

©sim
Sarah Anuar Sep 2017
Like an elixir, she drank the poison,
blood stained her lips, and she closes her eyes.
Because the sooner she dies, the faster she
reunites with her faithless lover.
She closes her eyes, because she is not
afraid to die.
Marie-Lyne Nov 2021
When family reunites
They are supposed to talk about their needs
What bothers them
What make them suffer
It’s not a spectacle
Where you only talk about the positive things
Just to show that you’re strong
Stop acting
It’s not a tv show
Farewell, my beloved paradox,
that will forever linger in my thoughts and heart.
The memory of your captivating fragrance,
distinct and unmistakable, will forever stay with me,
patiently anticipating your fateful reunion- that I long
for with every fibre of my being. Come not so hurriedly,
yet in time- so as to have the gentle cadence of your footsteps
linger delicately in the passing hours.

Although the whispers of your presence evade my ears,
your essence reunites with mine once more. Across alternate
lifetimes, where fate doesn't guarantee romantic interlacing,
my affection for you transcends as a steadfast companion,
devoted beyond the confines of romantic love.
Megan Sherman Aug 2017
O Love - spirit of the heart
Doth gift of gorgeous grace impart
Adorned with wings burnished bright
On which all souls swoon, take flight
Goddess true in mind embed
A fulsome flame of luscious red
Her clarion call to care implores
Irresistible to adore

Harking on divine at harp
Seducing souls out of the dark
Showers with sparkles the famished soul
Disconnect from the one and all
Reunites with divinity
With her wandering entreaty
To Aphrodite I forever be
Filled with charity and amity

Dare not fool her beauty forfend
Towards brighter day enchanted I wend
I'm ferried to her glowing cloud
Enamour of its divine shroud
By prophets, Saints, lovers adored
Immortalised in metaphors
Which render her beauty in devotional mantras
Prithee, Aphrodite, tell me of thy tantras
Thou bewitch, entice and snare
In you the light of love appear

Burnished bright in aura fair
Dandy goddess thou art debonair
In your peace I want to share
Ferry me away up there
Thy marbles and monuments beauty do not decay
Carving, sculpting beauty in to the day,
Hearts brine dies and goes away
When we walk wild frontiers on loves enchanted way
Stature which compels to kiss
Seduces devotees of bliss

Be my babe forever inspiring
For to thine beauty I am forever aspiring
From tyrants kingdom interdicted
But he for not knowing truth of thine heart is blighted
Beauty suffice to inspire psalms
Psalms giving like monks give alms
Take me babe in thy palms
I would leisure thee with drams
Be forever borne aloft
Testament to divine craft

In to tortured mind you drift
Bearing light, a divine shaft
That kindles flame of love in mind
That stokes love for kindred kind
Thou art temptress in to golden grove
A love on which the spirit rove
I would adorn thee in garlands
Jewels and a diadem

You are the ace of hearts
Striking mine like magic dart
Atop an aura, divine set pearl
Invites me to peer, enchanting girl
Eyes fluttering and beckoning
Invites me to peer magic, enchanting
A vivid array of colour
In her enchanting aura
Swept up in her hurricane
That rolls and waves across the plane

From one reality to another
Released form spirits tether
On shores of heaven we frolic play
Soothing quelling fear dismay
Touching rainbows dancing on the moon
With her always an epic rune
I sway enamoured of her tune
For her I'd traverse fifty dunes
And forego many a mirage
And torturous illusion, image

To finally fathom her resplendent truth
A kind of beauty rare forsooth
MACHEW Jul 2019
In the dark, silver shines
Out of reach, can never be mine
When the clock strikes at nine
Awaits the edge of the Lunar love line

Stretching out my hand
At the edge of silver light
Grains of silver sand
Twinkle throughout the night

When the right time strikes
Love happens beneath the Lunar lights
A single touch feels so dreamlike
Separated by death, continually reunites

I could never touch you
And yet I always wait at nine
Hoping to see you
At the edge of the Lunar love line
Kurt Philip Behm Feb 2019
To live within the moment,
  and write as love does now befriend

      “Light shining brightest as
         hours grow short”

A beginning reunites with
  the journey’s end

       “Memory imploding
          on fate's retort”

A window reopens,
  my heart beats faster still

      “Epiphany’s march
         neither to nor from”

To be saved in a final breath,
    one last line to say I will

      “The past and future
          left exposed—undone”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)

— The End —