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Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
daj, do wynagrodzenia: reszty.
daj: to niby: siebie;
a... dam... dam...
ale pierw: powiem:             to!
(ich) nicht werden
                  geben (ihr) das nacht!
first... i'll punch myself
hard enough to give myself
a plum-eye: ******* pacifists...
and then?
    then i'll strap a trouser belt
to protect my knuckles...
and then... then...
                    then: we'll "talk":
who might find a translator
ready...
   god...
i'm gagging for a
knuckle exchange...
        almost... itching!
like i might await
a shaving... from a Turkish
barber... in Essex...
of all Danish palaces;
and why would i want to allow
consort with these women?
considering the fact that
the russian ones believe in trans-national
grievance taxation:
of someone... who hasn't...
actually died...
              you know what?
*******...
suffer...
       watch me wipe my ***
with a satanic smile
ennobled
by a coulrophobia...
excesses of vogue
                      atypical models...
how is it... that...
coulrophobia doesn't translate
in reverse?
  and what's up
with the black privilege of
jass music, akin to white mozart...
as...  
  sure as ****, the drum would be
the first, and only thing,
prior to the people learning
the ******* clarinet!

oh drop me your ****** ***
holocaust dead bomb
on a polish ***...
     i triple, quadruple dare you!
you *******... ivory coast
   centipede!
               i'm *******...
as watts: wild-eyed...
       unstrap me from this
"unreality" of conversation...
then undo the internet banking...
and the rest of it...

             not adam watts!
    glitter & doom....
who?      tom waits...
oh **** me... blue valentine?
if that's not a **** with me
album... what is?
                 live circus?
        
do i look like a ******* ****-
(see the hyphen?
it's a prefix... the english are
lazy sometimes: couldn't,
i.e. could not,
remnants of shakespearean
english...

       i'll always cite macbeth...

  time, thou anticipat'st my dread
exploits: the flighty purpose never
is o'eertook, unless the deed go with it.
from this moment, the very firstlings
of my heart shall be
  the very firstlings of my heart.
   and even now, to crown my thoughts
with acts, be it thought and done.


it's hardly a racial slur, ergo...
why so ******* sensitive akin to a french
footballer or a ballerina?
   ****- (hyphen! hyphen!) ergo a prefix...
as already mention:
no, no...
   it's not: no iraqi ever called me a pa-ki
      (pákí)... yeah...
and you never called an afghanistani an
afghan, ever, no?
   pure camaraderie in that part of
the world... all the way... yeah yeah... yeah...
-stani (suffix) is sometimes missing
because... the english like to shorten words...
e.g. why is daniel: dan,
why is matthew: matt?
  why is muhammad: mo (farrah)?
                                    ******* pansies...
police your circumcised penises fiddling
english teenager girl, first,
come after my vocab. justifications: after;
savvy?

or a gypsy?
   by now...
     i'm looking like any
traveler...
and the world...
       forever resembled
a world,
  in the confines of
      a claustrophobia...

but... if there's a bigger concern for
a world...
  and a freedom...
i want a bare knuckle fight...
a black eye...
namely...
you bring  BOXING GLOVE...
and i'll bring...
     a LEATHER BELT...
wrapped around my knuckles,
and the wrist...
    like i might care to give
a second attempt to smile...

ah... the men... who care
about minding, if not in the least,
keeping women...
      bye bye, bye bye...
       and i've allowed myself
to know my grandfather...
as i did the slap in the face...
and...
the key question:
in the unfathomability of counting
the 32 / 4 ratio...
alas... one fist... one smile...

and countless... dentistry encounters...
because?
   because the rest?
the cultural artifacts of a today?
  lost to h'americana...
            as i might have wished...
for my prior genes
to make an autobiography
in **** germany...
  
   what?
  
      well... obviously: the oops.

no, for the crescendo...
you know...
           i'm getting this funny vibe...
gott ist tot... it's not really spectacular...
nietzsche really believed in eternity,
to the point where he pointed:
what does science offer, only old age...
what does religion provide? eternity...
oh nietzsche was big on eternity...
   gott ist tot is as unspectular as:
is it: how to do you pronounce x,
or is it: how do you pronunciate y?
debate:
              everyone says around here
the former... since no one wants to be a *****...
pro-nun-ci-ate (pro-nun-cíate)...
   might as well replenish the vocab. bank
and replace the word with:
how do you elocute z? / recite)....

gott ist tot / gott ist tod...
    "same ****, different cover"...
you know why i believe in god?
    not the christian reference points...
salvation blah blah, saviour and hide & seek blah blah...
n'ah... where would i derive all my vocab.
hunger if not from him?
   some men derive their vocab. from
women or gambling...
            i am not in the position of their
luxury... so god it is...

            primarily though?
               god is metaphysics...
             ergo? his judgement is not clouded
by metaphysical questioning...
it's impossible to receive a metaphysical
answer from a metaphysical question
when engaging with a metaphysical
ontological paraphrase of one's own search
for meaning in this mortal frame...

oh sure sure, my belief in god is as juvenille
as anyone else's belief in humanity's
clarity when it comes to jurisprudence
and its application...
    i've experience "jurisprudence" once...
drive-by phone theft...
me and three fwends...
   i catch the number plate...
i tell one of my fwends to note it down,
police station, report, culprit found,
a sit in at a barkingside police station
looking at mug images,
spot the ****** (it was dark when the mugging
took place, photographic memory, **** happens)...
a court session, australia is playing england
at the ashes (****, i missed it)...
in court the defence lawyer shows me
another picture of the culprit...
back then photogrpahs had dates
attached to them...
the photograph? over 4 years old...
i tell him: but this photograph is 4 years old!
how can i identify if this is the same
person: i, myself, will probably
don a beard in four years time!
      a simple slip-up...
        now that i have a beard:
it's so much more fun than growing your
hair long... i hated the nickname
chewbacca back in high school when i was
growing mine for a french braid...
i walk out of the court,
come to terms with the detective...
and i see the same hunger in him as i see in me...
will justice be served?
highly unlikely... since the victim
didn't recognize the *** in the mug-shots...
justice was probably not served...

   and this is how god plays into all of this,
hell or heaven, blah blah...
man created the figure of domina Iustitia
as blind... god created death to be blind...
justice was never supposed to be blind,
death was: the unfortunate deaths
of teenagers in car accidents,
among all the other freak accidents...

clouded with so many metaphysical questions
i don't appreciate man's ability to adhere
to jurisprudence without being
subjectively contaminated...
i have more belief in an "imaginary"
god than belief that strains me to belief
in man's sense of justice...
          the nuremberg trials are a rare exception...
but only when the culprits are
unabashed and fathomable by a collective
sense of pride... a blidness...
i believe in god, because i'd love to experience
the judgement of a post scriptum of
metaphysics...
  personally? i have been wronged...
heavily...
            i will not name names....
i know when and how i was wronged,
and by whom...
                2007... Canterbury...
      i won't name names: i'm not a rat...
man is too clouded with metaphysical questions
to begin with, god isn't,
he's a metaphysical ontology "bias"...
which is why, he is primarily a jurisprudent
answer...
   i'd love to experience divine jurisprudence,
hell or heaven are not of my concern...
and i don't imply divine jurisprudence
associated with the polytheistic take of
jurisprudence via a solipsistic mechanism
of a minor god and the person in question
without the hurt party...
in monotheism the god is solipsism personified...
these days: also the personna non grata...
so no... gott ist nicht tot...
            he's a personna non grata...
i just don't appreciate the human *******
of law, law governance...
   come on, in england you can receive
an a.s.b.o.s. for your cockerel being too loud
in the morning, your dog barking...
           would you trust man with
jurisprudence?
  a woman was cleared of the ******
of her husband
       when she hammered his head into a pancake:
over an abusive relationship...
police, weren't, "there"?!
sure sure... the hammer will do...
i believe in god without a sense of reward...
i just don't think man is capable of
passing justifiable laws...
no man could ever pass the eternal laws,
gravity... 100°C for the boiling of water...
i need a being  who has groundwork
in eternal laws, in unshakeable laws...
the ten commandments aren't:
you shall not...
   more... maybe, you shouldn't...
they are the most pristine jurisprudent
laws available... the: maybe you shouldn't,
eh, chappy?

       i just don't like playing the thesaurus game
on the more tight-knit game
of "passing" the wink-wink of Solomon's
judgement...
please, **** me please,
i'll eat 20 raw herrings in a cream sauce,
slurp 30 oysters,
eat 40 strawberries on a hangpverl
eat out about 50 harem virgins
like a castrato if you ask me, nicely,
**** camel cockey:
lucly i landed on a black gold slurp
with plenty of bangladeshi slaves:
******* of riyadh...
     what did muhammed tell you?
you camel jockeys / sand *******
have clearly forgotten...
******* arabs: short attention span...
you need to remind
the retards...
the dajjal would come from the east...
a palace of gardens...
well obviously the prophet wasn't
thinking about genghis khan...
            
  hmm barbarians...
vikings, arabs: yet so inclined to like poetics...
funny, that...
the civilized peoples banished
the poets...
            the ruling class and their cushioned
people: sacrosanct sycophants...
wankers, basically.

    the hajr? muhammad spoke of the dajjal
coming from the east,
and the east being a city of gardens...
where isn't riyadh and where is mecca?
isn't riyadh east of mecca?
was the dajjal to come from the outside
of islam, or from wtihin?
      last time i checked...
sh'ite islam isn't friendly to sunni islam...
if islam was the one true religion...
would have a shcism have occurred?
i don't think so...
   a persian would never bow before
an arab... that much os true...

oh i believe in god...
given how man practices jurisprudence...
is it some sort of, a, thesaurus game
i wasn't told about?
to me the human quest for jusctice is
a thesaurus game...
man is incapable to pass but one,
eternal, law...
he's great at nuanced laws...
laws allocated to sports...
i mean, **** me, cricket?
the best vocab. you'll ever pick up...

even god isn't as pertinent
in making the sort of music associated
with the limited alpha-to-beta
of A, B, C, D, E, F, and G...
wow! seven... seven?!
how many heads does the beast
of revelation have? oh... 7!

i'll stop tolerating islam, and start respecting it,
when it, acknowledges its presence
as a character study in the book of revelations...
then i'll just move on,
having made my point...

until that time comes...
    it's 600 years shy of becoming what
degenerate christianity has become,
oh and it's ripe...
it's gagging to implode!
600 years and wait for it to become
the next secular vasal conglomorate...

the warning muhammad gave
about "the best from the east"
was in point of question:
   a reference ti gneghis khan...
more like ibn saud:
  thst fat diabetic one eyed ogre...
and the legacy of decadence he left
behind...

saudi men with slavuc girlfriends,
buying up pink cushions and *******
chihuahuas...
**** after ****...
  you know the three slavic proverbs?
1. better a sparrow in your
hand, than a dove on your rooftop?
explanation?
better the small joys at-hand,
than impossible possibilities out of reach....
2. a drunk can spot east,
past mecca, whenever honing
the safety of his own bed... even at night...
not much of a proverb...
3. i don't care to rememeber...

once toleration comes into play,
i will, respect... just a waiting game...
i'm pretty sure no iranian will
bow down to a sunni camel jockey...
i like proud *******,
it implies: there are absolutes,
un-moveable goal posts...

                      if you are ever to bind yourself
in supporting a "side" outside a sports' dynamic,
always the outsider...
always the outsider... in this case?
the ****'ite islam brigade...
       the persians...
the sunnis can shove it...
   *****, bones, whatever....

                   ****'ite islam i can
fathom, even respect,
sunni islam i just tolerate...
  as much as iran takes claims for the
big satan in ref. to h'america...
well... if h'america supports the infantile
saudi arabia, who's to blame them?

you know that polonaise joke about
about the pacifism of jews in
2nd world world war poland?
the joke ran along the words:
weren't the jews shooting the nazis
using crooked elbows (rifles)?
they always seemed to miss them,
taunted into walking into gas chambers,
the ******* hobbits...

          what? some bolshevik Brooklynian
jewish rada is to spare me
                 the pay-up diffrential
telling me, i was wrong?

  as i said before: the nazis lamented
when the warsaw uprising happened...
no, st. paul's doesn't stand proud
because, because...
   even with the blitz...
                 the luftwaffe were told:
you drop a bomb on st. paul's: firing squad...
and when notre-dame de paris -
last time i checked...
   the nazis didn't luftwaffe the **** out
of paris... did they?!

                  the nazis weren't mongols;
no people so well versed in chanel in terms
of their military being so well
   suited & booted could ever make such a
                              architectural sacrilege...

what?! people under the silicon curtain
are gagging, begging even: for nazis!
can i be the first?!
i just want to please the hungry!
if not punk then moving swiftly into ska...
am i the first?
   siliziumvorhang...
well, **** me... from under the eisenvorhang...
what's with these neo-communist pseudos?

and the hebrew god?
a jealous god... so a god with the knowledge
of the existence of other gods...
why wouldn't a jealous god have
no knowledge of other ("imagianry") gods?
to be jealous of only one's own existence?!

3 / 1: that's the ratio....
that's the only ratio... 3 times i experienced
love at first sight:

when i fell in love at first sight...
malina, samantha, janina,
priya....

equal measure: isabella of grenoble...

in reverse:
magda, promis, ilona, kot (i forget her name,
7 years old, first kiss, you can be forgiven
to forget, she had two twin sisters
and she was the senior,
her fasther drove a distribution truck,
milk, i think)...

****, i actually mismanaged
that ratio...

i believe in "a" god...
since i find too much of human jurisprudence
to be riddle with the thesaurus...
i don't think man can pass
law, he can "suppose so"...
but he will never pass the sort of law,
made forbidden,
or absolutely allowed....
i don't believe in a god akin
to the sort of a pontous pilate god
where i'll always find myself
outside of punk evolving into ska...

         mind you...
i'd hate to be trapped within
the confines of an atheistic exclusion zone
of intellect,
      to be trapped in nothing is one
thing, but to be trapped inside
the confines of an atheist's "nothing"
is quiet another....
i don't like being a hamster inside
a cognitive wheel of another...
   god is the jurisprudence spirit,
man the metaphysical spirit...
and i would very much like to stand
in the light of divine law being passed
to finally feel my shadow...

kult: brooklyńska rada żydów...
  not familiar?
  i forgot punk a long time ago...
esp. when californians came up with their
version, ergo? ska...

i'm currently taping a film
about the silesian vampire...
how strange, that the prussians came
back into the ***** of the polonaise...

growing a beard is so much fun!
fiddle after fiddle: and no violin!
atheists bore me
as much as the theistic hags
who's only ambition are
the thrill associated with Sunday
h'america and cinema...
               i can imagine only one
heaven...
where i am blind and given
               a large library of music.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2015
it’s not everyday you get to end a 7 year psychosis
when redecorating your room to it’s “original” crimson,
having had such a simple symptom as
brain cell membranes breaking and oozing blood out,
to be misdiagnosed as mentally insane,
and when in need of help from the haemorrhage
not driven to the hospital due to the lack of *******
of having proceeded with the deed but forgetting the onslaught of law
in favour of the hurt party... well...what can you do?
move on, as i’m trying, had it been naturally based
on genetic chronology / genealogy i would have suffered in vain...
but i’m brimming with a hate for islam, and there’s nothing
to do but calm the quasi-communist protestors
in the western lands... ******* calm down... you’ll get
your freedom of speech... once you stop trying to censor vocabulary...
there’s no point learning a language if it becomes
politicised and you tell me to block vowels or consonants
in a non-kabbalistic way (which i’ll come to):
so yeah, a 7 year psychosis over a needle in a haystack...
gives me the shivers...
the many times i thought about killing someone
and feeding the emotions with not doing the act...
so many times i was almost skeletally biased to churn the
marrow haemoglobin into tendon stressor action of taking
the knife and doing halal or kosher with someone...
many a times...as many a times i saw crucifixions in edinburgh
not knowing it was going to happen in syria,
and that night when a muslim tried to mug me
in brick lane breaking down in the street of revellers
kneeling in tears screaming a prayer with tears in my eyes
of only one word: allah.
so i started redecorating my room, crimson is back from
hospital white... my bookshelf is rearranged...
on the left on the top shelf fictional books i either read
or didn’t bother to read because of the movies...
to the right on the shelf psychiatric and philosophical books...
the next shelf is a poetry “corner,” well it elongates beyond the corner...
and it’s split by a dictionary with the right bit of the shelf filled
with english poetry and some literature that’s poetic, and french,
the dictionary is planted to segregate the poetry books,
to the left of the dictionary is a book of greek myths
(did you know all greek theology is derived from the new testament
and not from the testament of orpheus or hercules or Perseus?),
then a book on meditative kabblah... then polish books of poetry.
so i rearranged the room, but i also lodged
an essayist’s book on melancholia, a book on depression
a book on an intro. to jung and a book on
schizophrenia lodged between these massive collections:
to the left all the art books... to the right all the books concerning chemistry...
so the books in between can’t really be seen.
as of today i woke with a p.s. from dreams, or a p.s. in dreams,
i woke and imagined myself talking to my mother
about the identity of al-dajjal... the false messiah,
within the conscious realm i just said the words out of the window:
fool you fool me, when mecca / medina become west of paris / london,
i’ll accept riyadh to be east of tehran / new delhi...
then we'll marginalise plateau east with copernican east
via the stars, and wander aimlessly trying to copper-fill
the sun at sunset...
he (muhammad) said the man would be of his nation,
and he said so with a warning...
but ibn saud got away weighing in at 160kg, diabetic and a brawler
with the stomach, the decadent of all that choose either sugary decadence
or some other form of mental instability in the chosen trade of stolen organs.
me? i keep my sanity with the tetragrammaton, cipher this:
this numerology *******, and it is ******* will not do...
enter platonic forms:
y is so so much more than just 25...
what will you see through y with the number 25?
what? nothing, dry brute that i am...
Y represent 3 dimensional space...
the first h is not important given the second h... which is deja vu,
which is less than what malachi insisted with the fractioned god of
the fractioned “elijah” reincarnated...
deja vu can be explained with science as one of the brain’s tricks
to sense this familiarity of seeing an elephant and acknowledging
the five blind men touching it up for comparative jokes,
the W... well... at least it’s not M... given that the trigonometric cosine continuum
begins at 1.... god is one... ring a bell? well better that than
beginning with the trigonometric sine continuum, which begins with 0...
forget numerology... numbers and letters aren’t related...
forget the dogmatism of rabbis - it makes no sense to say a = 1, b = 2 etc.
and then take a word like ape, and say: ‘ah, a = 1, p = 16 and e = 5; by god!
that’s a kabbalistic synonymity of the word... pea!’
where’s the jolly green giant when you need him, eh?
just look at what a phonetic symbol represents...
like secondary darwinism of a primate hissing to alert the presence
of a snake... past darwinism... past drawing antelopes
in french caves... in the realm of abstract phoneticism that
gave us the cognitive genesis... and made as... dare i say... a bit myopic
in a solipsistic sense.
p.s. ah... what are the newspapers saying?
slapstick humour is one of the prime causes of dementia? huh?!
yes, prime minister... is satire comedy?
how the hell can yes, prime minister be categorised as satire
if it uses canned laughter?
see that bloke over there... doing the omnivore pelican dance?
he joked so readily and active that he created authentic laughter...
don’t know where your satire is going... but it certainly left me gagging
for a springroll.
now now... absurdist comedy is too oxbridge for me...
kings and gentlemen get educated in either st. andrew’s or edinburgh...
we laugh at ourselves.
alt. to canned laughter, given that "canned laughter"
is reserved for the authentic laughter of the crowd
at a live show? what's the antonym of canned laughter
in televised satire? picky laughter... i.e. only one person
in an schoolroom of 30 gets the joke, apart from the comedian...
that lonely everest ha ha... ooh chills, frozen prawns in gravy.
softcomponent Feb 2017
there are times
when the thoughts
float through my head,

of you,

and I picture your face as it glows
but from a place of distance
---like it wasn't
less
than
a
week
ago
that we ended almost 4 years of love in close proximity
--- instead,
it's been 6 months,
and with some distance on the pain,
rationality has processed all aspects of the break
and twisted the Rubix cube of my life back into its
solid reds, blues, greens, and yellows.

however,
as my concentration slips in the early evening,
this distance is replaced with what feels like a soft,
slow-motion punch
---not just to the gut,
but through the gut,
twisting my intestines into knots of withdrawal,
my eyes drooping from
AlErT
to
"why does it feel like I've had a death in the family?"

it's like clockwork;
I have a window to work with
each and every morning,
but by 4 PM if I'm caught mid......
-sentence..... in my....
textbook.....
"A History of the Modern Middle East",
my stomach dropping
like
global oil prices
in the 1960's
under the tutelage
of the
Saudi King
Faysal,
every word I read bounces off my irises
like they were tennis *****
and I'm playing squash with the pages.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2016
oh such few words are minded,
no bravery apart
from the homosexuals
as skeletons in the chronicles of Narnia
being discovered among
the skeletons of tyrannosaurus rex
making a bed with its wheelchair able
paws - and the flag of the Cymru
fire-breathing turtles before excavation  
and the myths of the mandarin too;
now tell me the sub-human plot with the
Normans when the anglo-sax reigned
to teach me to unlearn english
to avoid assimilation,
like you taught your former colonial subjects
to integrate and to alievate keeping assimilation:
which you taught to unlearn the mother's
tongue and learn a discrimination
against furthering the multi-cultural project...
which you taught to integrate and
keep at loss a sacred soul of never assimilating
akin to jew...integrate i must,
assimilate i care not for should i be totally
albino or asserting bleached with peace:
albino oder beteuern gebleicht mit frieden.
integrate i must to utilise the coinage
but to assimilate i must turn into a reggae african
with roots in the Caribbean than the Ivory Coast...
and god willing i will not claim to be
an arab's brother to settle karma over
uplifting the curse over Mecca with ibn Saud's
clock-tower; burn!!!
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
i never understood why poetry books were and are so expensive, there's Darwin lounging smoking a cigarette listening to some Victorian erich segal, e. l. james, diana gabaldon or a loretta chase - while imaging, well, you know, why the the Bayeux tapestry represents the Normans invasion with humanoids, hence the pressure on artists to follow-up with self-portraits, otherwise it ended up with two monkeys ******* in his head... but such writers are equivalent to manual labourers, they don't care if their books aren't finished, they are equivalent of bricklayers, ploughing the fields of blanks unearthing potatoes and more potatoes (words)... some Chinese poet-drunkard trying to escape Tibetan meditation writes a haiku... and that's about it, he says laughing at the moon: 'this is bothersome! for one thing our ancestors chose a ****** difficult phonetic encoding, maybe this was xenophobia in disguise, but the Ming dynasty project is nothing compared to how we write she and shin, no amount of labour will be as effective as our pictographs, some say this is a defence against invaders, and i believe them, they got as far as ***** trading with us, now we have cheap steel and Russian allies... forget the great wall, the real defence against invaders and accusations of xenophobia is in the encoding, which also means we can **** the mathematical encoding like an elephant ******* a chicken, with its trunk, blowing air into it so the chicken ends up flying, along with the ostrich'.

when i write crude i know i'm exhausting a poem,
or at least the introduction, to a poem,
but such are crude comparisons, they tell you when
to stop the flux of the unintended direction -
but i agree with him, western powers abuse
the haiku mechanism, back in the east the haiku
appears from blank, partly due to that Tibetan
baldy blubber in later age in India -
in the west we have the crown of myrrh, and due
to the overload of sensual stimulation with that,
and the lashing prior to the crucifixion,
an over-exited state of sensuality, meaning more
cognitive outpourings, hence not one haiku
in a year about some freckled salmon jumping
over the moon with a momentary diamond of snow
on its tail... but a whole list of them...
without any verbal tradition to remember either...
take the Tibetan lounging and the Hebrai hanging,
why did we ever take the latter up?
well, question answered, the west is quietly shunning
the church's influence, all you need is a Buddha
head in your living room and it's primo aprilis -
well, not it's Prima Aprilis, *Prima dies Aprilis
,
it's a jokers day in Poland, i experienced one myself,
you run around the town drenching each other in water,
or as i call it, baptising each other, for jokes,
buckets of water... in the west it's just a toys 'r' us
advert owning a water-gun, but you hardly see
children in western society, esp. in England,
they're exposed to overt-sexuality prematurely,
they're stiff on the monkey bars, stiff on bicycles,
stiff playing football, stiff climbing trees (if ever),
stiff or coffin like only ready to play the one game they
know best: bullying and make-up, and short-skirts,
and karaoke dreaming all the leaves are brown,
and the sky is grey, i've been for a walk, on a winter's day,
i'd be safe from walking, if i wasn't in L.A., california
dreaming, on such a winter's day
, it's only
outdoors if there's a prize involved, not the smell of grass
or cow ****... strap me up Scott'e, i'm about to venture
into the grand world wearing a ******... anyway,
you never write more than one haiku a year...
but before i do a Robert Frost as cited by Jack Spicer
"any ****** fool can get into a poem but it takes
a poet to get out of one"
, citation? helen: a revision
part of the San Francisco Renaissance mini movement.
but today's panorama show, about the exit vote,
Hilarious **** being investigated by the F.B.I., Trump
turned into a T-Rex in a children's book - tiny hands,
big quiff - and in a global community where slavery
is frowned at, piracy is not really, the vain hopes
of former glories, listening to old farts reminiscent of
the empire esp. in the north is like listening to a fake ******,
my grandparents could say the same ******* in Poland,
the loss of the steel industry, much due to the extinction
of communism in Europe, feminism and the soft-industry
jobs of primarily advertisements, the manly jobs?
they're all Chinese... why blame eastern europeans?
you like your ******* chicken chow mein you little *****?
well i'm certainly liking my korma chicken curry, eat it!
an economy that prizes only profit and not continuity
exporting everything to King Kong Mao will look for
scapegoats anywhere, i'm surprised it's not the Jews this
time, and it's so funny, i mean, born & prop'ah bred
Anglo, imported from Pakistan, oh yeah, "prop'ah",
now they're the best mates, once master and the slave,
now two masters, hand in hand, should be a joke
poster like the socialist fraternal kiss (the capitalist
fraternal kiss is - you guessed it! mouth kissing an ****!),
so you have to really trim the curtains of the ethnic
dress of King Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud to get
a selfie with Tony Blair and Bush Jr. getting stuck in -
at a time when no Londoner feels safe outside
of England, esp. in the north, perhaps in Scoot-land
(three years up there, i built up an affinity with
them against Jacky Uno and the flag,
right now i'm burning it in my head, ah, for scrap jokes);
and then they box in the idea that whoever earns money
can't do what the hell he wants with it... listen...
after not being given the Marshall Plan option, and instead
given an ideal like communism i think it's best some
of the money heads east to fund the post-Gorbachev plan
(why was Sweden included in the plan? Sweden
was neutral! they were the myth-machine generators
of ******'s late discovery of the ability to bleach your hair!),
and why would i spend my money in Southend anyway?
or Blackpool on candyfloss? community?
you want a community? how the hell is community going
to work... this ain't a village, this a globalised world...
plus, why associate yourself with vermin?
and all this is going around while the rats from
respective parties jump the boat and leave the public
to blame themselves... but that's how it is, in this
schizoid metaphor, bilingualism is extreme as much as
mono-lingual psychology, but less rooted and historic
and continuity biased... happy those who know only
one tongue or three and more... with bilingualism
you become a psychological mongrel, while others are mongrels
of the flesh, soul-mongrel breeding is harsh,
you're neither here, nor there, and your idea of heaven
becomes something like: wake me up again speaking
Norwegian, because at least i can identify in that region
something that isn't here or there - but being first
generation and remembering to speak the mother,
i wasn't going to do the solo ethnic cleansing and speak
only one tongue... if i did... you think i'd be speaking with
my father and his broken English? ha! *nie!
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2015
when i heard about it,
when i heard of “free art:”
i thought of free bread and wine,
and celtic sirens,
i laughed though... you made the earth
so ******* boring we all wanted to become astronauts.
when art became free we tried to moralise
drinking wine (as a portent of richness)
and eating bread (as a portent of the russian revulsion),
i bought my art.. and waited for the ones who
discouraged it complaining buying their bread “well fed.”
the celtic sirens hung on though, singing softer and softer
but more prone to the acid tongues dragging the democrats into
a hope of kings and village kindred elders,
but i still didn’t hope for free artistry that was akin to circus,
caged the gypsy have i?
i have, but i did not warrant free food or free aquas of variation,
i simplified freeing the demands with the demands freed into excess,
well... if i were kingly i’d still have provided free bread and wine
rather than music and the curbing the excesses of lyricists;
making music free just discouraged all originality, all creativity,
it just became a realism of a struggled acting -
i feel cheated having missed the antics of britannia in
the 1960's and '70's like it was greek and roman without
the epileptics of watching a documentary on trans-sexualisation
of brazilians and ******* disco to gag on an excess of flashy lights
just to sell lipstick... and have these quasi-epileptic shivers
without having an opposing opinion to counter the freely stated & fluxed.
i guess my convulsions were due to the fact that the men
didn’t call it either homosexuality nor trans-sexuality,
and that i was actually looking at two dodos talking, meaning
i was seeing the extinction of the human race through the ****,
meaning i was watching the knights templar idol, baphomet,
realised 2000 years after the crucifixion in that crown of thorn dreams,
perfected in thailand... of all places;
that actually beats the identification of ibn saud as the dajjal,
moving further east of mecca than riyadh and
the assassination attempt within the framework of muhammad’s hadith of ‘no entry’ into mecca by the dajjal.
Donald J. Trump:
Say what you will, but
He’s the only guy out there
Asking the obvious questions,
Common sense questions like
“Why don’t Japan, South Korea &
The House of Saud, pay the USA for
Defending them militarily?”

We sustain their political status quo,
We put boots on their ground, &
We provide them gold-plated munitions of
Mass Devastation
(like Mass Destruction only worse.)
What do we get? Bupkis, as in
“Bupkis Mit Kaduchas"
באָבקעס מיט קדחת
Translating roughly to
“Shivering **** *****.”

The 2016 election truly highlights
A profound social shift taking shape,
A demographic division, similar to what
The 1960s called the Generation Gap.
Trump is anathema to most of our
Over-indulged, Millennial offspring;
Our privileged kids, a cohort of Americans children
Reared by blue-collar but college-educated parents,
Those of us who busted *** for our
Bourgeois lifestyle & discrete charm.
We were the Flower Children of the 60s.
We left Yasgur’s farm on a
Hallucinogenic carpet high but rudely
Crash-landed, a consequence of
Altamont Speedway,
Gasoline queues & shortages, &
Years of bipolar economics,
Replete with spinning gerbil wheel of
Double-digit inflation.
We went to work.
We got our **** together.
We settled down.
We gentrified.

Our kids?
They tell their friends they are house sitting,
But the place is the house they grew up in &
Their parents still live there.
Elihu Barachel Oct 2015
A ship of Saud was sank, a ship of Saud went down
Warm up for the 2nd Seal, The Red Horse will be around
-
So keep your heads stuck in the sand, your stupid ***** cover up
Use your shield of faith...drink WRATH from the Golden Cup
-
You followed Dusty Rhoades, you'll follow him to Hell
Prophecy ignored, you should have known and known **** well
Google: Richard E Rhoades
Ryan O'Leary Oct 2018
Trick or treat an easy feat
Khashoggi, by Al Saud.

Lured inside the den of death
by their deceptive fraud.

But with our nibs we will inject
what Jamel never did neglect,

We’ll force Bin Salman to reflect
upon this writer's laud.
Poets Writers Journalist of the world UNITE.
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2017
suddenly... my skin
"feels" freckled,
or that ginger is abhorred,
or that orange is
queeny -
                 leisured at -
a bat-haven.
poetry is words
         philosophy
only punctuation -
take to fathom a Norwegian
acid bath...
               murmur of marrow -
then the chemicality of Hermes -
what exists:
globally under ****
sloth: lo
                          so
dough
                     cop
                                    eerie navy
and  nazal -
                              i,
am, centrist.
                   blister
scold...
                 b l i s t e r
s  c  o  l  d
     b   l    i   s   t   e   r
   scalp and the mustard:
  khaki khaki khaki!
coca cola khaki!
                      father says otherwise,
****** and puritan pirranha -
Warsaw subway girlen -
              frozen, minus bowtie + yurt dover -
         ****: closure and escapism
from war, entry point: *****, your culture.
as the joke goes:
   the jews spoke more zion than they spoke
yiddish: baalam - donkey-riddle -
but at least jesus entered jerusalem,ioe
or the tool-forge of alpha blo blo Indi.
Nikita...
                 cobbler smacker...
shoe fits fine...
                   now you juggle GDP
against cabbage... and horse-radish...
iron eagle no hail mary, no iron,
no golgotha... as intricate be:
american coca - lobside Xican milken -
NIKITA!
if i have my regrets... then i have my
love-letter... art... Juliet...
thus you have your politics....
   if i have my regrets i have a chasm
to overcome,
         in yawn as to conquer depth -
thus with wind, adjoin weaker slav -
german... german...
who said german inclusive anglican-sax
and svab-frank in Lorraine -
Iblis in Matador crimson quake,
numb Paris, numb Paris...
                          Elba...
               goat,
              geiß - gąś - goose - stratum!
           kindred SS man
or the ****** joke in Auschwitz -
100 years... then szkodliwych...
  rekindled... at least what took place
in Auschwitz was also said: Eva Braun...
5 years... not 100 years and fake,
and almond culprit...
    5 years and the gas,
a chemist suffices...
            100 years of ******...
the jokes coercing Auschwitz with Hastings
are but candle-glamour for what
nimble in wax, be turned to enshrined stone...
              memory: was never to be a Disney.
     i'd prefer the uncanny - Schubert bound
high-class death,
  that this horse-bound harking a phelgm
to no rebuilding founding:
Pilate washed his hands of Yehu
       Pilate washed his hands of Ishra;
                Solomon is
     placed  in the House of Saud -
                           and a quarter - toward the tumult
a desert of white fog,
                  a *** fetish...
   and you jogging after Honolulu in bone, gene
and lava...
                     sunken lung, shiva's "star" of anise -
that spoken of eye -
           said green, said envy,
said but once in absent-mindedness - an absinthe -
crystaline in milk -
                     heaving the ache of mind
and the heart as copper in a lacklustre of
former hope of nurtured hearts' gain:
with painter as kindred and unison with a plumber's
  to the death toll chime: an eon worthy
               a sneeze, if that be a sneeze to
rekindle colour in spring, and moor in auburn
   lazed...
                               and between extremes:
the two deserts -
    and that i be bound to the tomb
               and the stone,
and the fox tornado tango of the trial
that would never be a Friday of what would
always be: a revealing noon:
be it orb, or be it scythe -
                           be it Everest, or
be it the flute in the dough of Nepal as enshrined
                for the arithmetic of shadow:
pauper plato... pauper plato...
                                                       pauper
                                  one and all...
                     if we all but possessed the luxury
conversation...
                                    but none of us possess the
capacity to treat conversation as a luxury...
                          conversation will never be a luxury,
given the fact that we decided thinking to be primo,
the luxury... to re establish conversation as a luxury
we have to prevent thought from innovating...
from invigorating...
   but since conversation cannot achieve this paramount...
the only achievable parallel suggestion is to talk about nothing:
and think about everything;
likewise to think about everything:
and talk about nothing -
and as Heidegger expressed:
   we are non-being in number,
                               because nothing negates
a quantity -
                        how then to rainbow into a presitent
continuum? chameleon culprit?
    only via an elasticity of language...
             thus 10 am gives gallop toward horizon
and sun, and i am furthest from staging a continuum
of what i am an example of:
man, husband, father, partner, son, cohort, cohesion...
i feel no reference point in having to demand from a per se, the nearing-claimant pejorative antidote, other than the one i have aspired to as merely a sand-castle, rather than the bombastically-fuelled pyramid.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2020
working "backwards" from something already
started in: collateral and the chicken scratching exercise...

how can you not have a hard-on
for mel gibson's beard...
in... the professor and the madman -
detailing the... etymological events
surrounding something more dear to me...
than the pslams of king david
or the: wisdoms of king solomon...
the wisdom: thus derived...
after a man becomes: ostensibly...
bored with a harem...
that would become the blueprint
of envy for future men of the world...

alexander the great...
muhammad...
           it's not a bible... it's a...
dic-tio-nary... stop the press...
pluck all the feathers from all the magpies
in the land... tell Xerxes to stop
whistling at the sea and...
can we just stop with the b.d.s.m.
of the waves?

        head: rotondo! spin ****** spin!
anything in the "pejorative"...
god... this moloch of grammar of a deity...
we need to ensure there's a scrutiny
of each and every, yes: every word...
we need to sieve them through
the categories!

i put to mind:
     it's a comparison of catchphrases...
the war hogs cite it as:
collateral damage...
the civilian will rummage and pluck out:
the... "rhetorical question"...
can... you... put... rhetoric: to a question?
can a rhetorical question:
actually exist... like a unicorn can?
oh wait... kangaroo yes...
a platypus... oh a double yes...

can you... can you... "rhetorical question"?
what the hell is a rhetorical question:
if not, something akin to a fashion statement...
of the calibre: a short-black-'un...
a coco chanel mini-skirt...

what is... a rhetorical question?
a question is, i hope...
something that manages to endorse
the dialectic...
and anyone who engages with a dialectic
will / or should know:
there's no rhetorical question...
when being asked:
one doesn't... "somehow"...
find a magic plot of a forest with smurfs...
and goes off on a tangent speaking...
persuasively...
a rhetoric question isn't a question
at all...

        collateral damage among the war hogs
is a rhetorical question among the civilians...

the story of professor james murray
and dr. william minor...
and to think... the alienists (psychiatrists)
at the time thought that...
enforced regurgitation...
could animate the body to conjure up
an already exhausted soul...
what ancient romans did for masochistic pleasure:
bulimia in the rudiment of:
a fork of fingers agitating the throat
and subsequently the oesophagus
to: bring back... what was already in fractions...

some call it soul, some call it x... y...
that... indispensable will: for animation...
to perform the 80 year old (in total) magic trick
of being: immune...
to the ills and forgivings of others...
a standard praise of solipsism...
as a thought-experiment... nothing more...
from which one can...
come and go as freely as one can vote
in a democracy...

come when summoned... leave when...
not made into any greater necessity other than:
to make fair of the count...

truly: a hard-on for mel gibson's beard...
some can claim ***** envy...
i have beard envy...
like to-hat envy when someone is 5'11"
and i'm still the same old 6'2"...

rhetorical question... i always found questions
to be... of a... dialectical nature...
i can hardly think of a rhetorical question
or rhetorical answer...
a rhetorical question implies:
the questioner has more to say...
than the person intended to answer...
i can hardly anyone burn through oration
when being posed a question...
a question: per se... is not something one
can be certain about: esp. when giving a reply...

a rhetorical question is a k.f.c. mouse urban
myth... a bit like collateral damage:
did we destroy a bullet making factory?
no... but we killed some civilians...
or some sort of entreating variation of worshipping
the drugging and bullet dodging machinery
of: cold the bullet bit...

how can you pose a rhetorical question?
is someone about to make a rhetorical answer?
robots would behave within rhetorical confines
of being asked an absolute:
error message - replying with an absolute yes / no...

a rhetorical question would beg
for a ore rotundo: with a voice filled with assurance...
the question is imposed...
with a curiosity... at best: with doubt...
uncertainty... at worst: with a negation:
waiting for the wrong answer...
but no dialectic is ever to be established
working from a rhetorical question...
a socrates would be:
the dialectical surgeon...
the affair of the question doesn't go beyond...
whoever is questioning:

oh!           oh!
a rhetorical question is... not for someone
to address the question...
but a pursuit of the questioner to continue asking
question...
a rhetorical question is... to further the lineage
of questions... to be therefore "rhetorical"
is to inquire more... rather than reply with
a rhetorical certainty...
a rhetorical question isn't a question...
it's a cascade of questions...

******* and the myth of the gateway...
after **** i did the next best thing...
i rediscovered bourbon as ms. amber...
that once you watch just a little bit of it...
you will turn toward finding out more graphic
content...
so... me looking out for the most *******
music: combichrist... :wumpscut,
vomito *****...
                  *****... graphic... *******?
or... gloryhole ***** *******...
               or pregnant women: so *****...
       or japanese gravure models...
"problem" with japanese models...
              *** bots? aren't they here already...
with these porcelain mannequins?
touch a hand it breaks or fizzles into...
ash...
  as happens when you've been at "it"...
puritanical victorian von krafft-ebbing...
i sometimes know what the ******* is for...
i hardly think it necessary to listen to what's
"moral" from circumcised... gentile...
north-h'americans...
                    jerking off since aged 8...
brain rot started way back... in 1994...
which is before the internet...
   gateway... my ***...
         japanese gravure and Agnolo Bronzino...

who needs "more"... when you have a mel gibson
beard-envy!

the chair can remain a chair...
but there's a termite colony wriggling in it...
i don't need to see it...
i just need to hear it...
combichrist: like to thank my buddies,
    today i woke to the rain of blood...
                   all pain is gone...
       cheap thrill seeing heaven:
better tamed - attempting to listen to the litanies
escaping hell...
a written word in hell is like...
     because the hands are being crushed
in monkey-wrenches and there's Spinoza
cackling...

   who needs more ******* and ride-me-timmy
the horses' laugh when music can
compensate... and otherwise find the better
kind of: the feeding outlet...

a rhetorical question: is that for the answer to
be tinged with rhetorical gravitas?
no... then every question socrates every posed
what a rhetorical question:
and the concern for dialectics is a dummy...
which is probably true: reading what sort
of answers those put under the scrutiny give:
is response...

i must be wrong: a rhetorical question:
is not simply a question...
a rhetorical question could perhaps give
the person answering a spark of rhetoric...
a rhetorical question should:
by default... provide you with a rhetorical
answer... but all it does is...
further a second question...
and a third... a fourth...
    so more for the "famous" dialectic...
when all that seems to happen...
one only becomes a rhetorician: via question...
rather than merely: talking...

the rhetorical question is therefore
the basis of "dialectics": which is no basis for
dialectics per se...
it's the persuaded question-prone antagonist:
who is hardly the narrator...
and the answer is always the same:
shut up! i'm talking over you...
i'll just disguise this whole affair in a question
and minor answer cited: a perfectly well
equipped yes: or no... will suffice:
or a nod of approval worded...
                  socrates the bane of sophists
and rhetoricians...
a subtle project... you are not interrupted...
when to stress an invocation
of fake curiosity: by asking a question...
the sort of question...
a rhetorical question... that will not usurp
your original: intent monologue of sophistry...

an echo is all the rave when it comes
to a rhetorical question...
a rhetorical question feeds of: yes / no answers...
and there i was thinking that a rhetorical
question implies:
whoever answers... will break into
a rhetorical answer... verbatim the quran
akin to a hafiz! nope...
a rhetorical question is a punctuation mark:
one hopes... of what a rhetorician would usually do...
when having a voice in the congregation
of docile elders...

socrates: the elder... found an audience
among the athenian young... because?
        he stressed that rhetoric had to have overtones
of questioning: without really questioning...
what sort of "dialectic" is there to be had:
what: dialogue...
when... the dialogue leaves one side with
a narrator and protagonist semblance?
and the characters: ergo? are nothing but nail-heads
for the hammer to plough through?!

oddly enough... Plato ****** off Socrates so
hard... that Socrates became...
the first non-hasidi...
to be circumcised... by pursed lips...
yep... Plato ****** off Socrates' *******:
right off... thinking the phallus...
was in the no-man's land of comparsion
to a chicken drum-stick!
antagonism: of how favourable the "dialogues"
are cited...
i've had a similar experience...
i really don't know what this... "e-prostitution"
is about...
before the internet... i am probably one of
the last few who blushed when buying a magazine
at the newsagent with all them *******...
and: curated ***** hairs:
less of a chin and more...
the pelvic "hubris" / canvas...

                 brothel: tick...
strip-club: tick...
              what's given everyone a hot-cross bun
shivers...
          "never paid"... but otherwise paid:
for the insinuation...
and the insinuation was: a date...
look at it as... no ******* dysfunction...
and no money for a date...
straight back into the salt mines
and trench digging... no time for honey:
oh boobie and frankly my dear:
i don't drown herrings...

       a rhetorical question is also a compound-misnomer...
yep... the idea of a rhetorical-question
is a compound-misnomer:

take me on a chain to the goblet...
pay the extra to rid the matter:
seven tongues instead of one...
gorging on the inquiry of Gomorrah...
to better couplet to the banquet of *****!
that ***** treat us Gomorrah civically dutied:
as worse than rats and shadows...
and the plebs just entertain...
       what would ever come from
the mouth of ***** as:
       prized bulls of drag-queen story-hour...
shame those without foreskins...
comparison...
a o.k. to be gay...
                what's date-night?
is that... something -esque having coupled
a mahjong with a niqab?!
why don't all the muslim women take
the best route... join the surgeon mask-equipped
crowds... and no... simple forget the hijab...
donning the full niqab?!
why?!

who needs seeking more depraved *****
beside... Bronzino and japanese gravure models...
and all that elasticity of:
electricity passing through an iron maiden
via... combichrist: sent to destroy...
hardly "destroy": cultivate...
recycle... call the parasites into hubris *******
haitus...

also "in response" to: the kinks and the...
"celibate" priesthood...
        because: you know, the kinks and all that:
******* music and fine detaiks of:
when the butcher will be cited...
looking at a slab of meat...
and calling a harem of pigs...
that floral... pinky tidbit "in the middle":
avert your eyes:
how god's finger touched adam's...
and via what...

it doesn't come more ******* than...
drinking lukewarm whiskey...
that i can stand...
but if anyone's drinking ***** not suberged
into gomme syrop consistency...
there's: should we say...
a... "spot of bother"...

              i wouldn't mind...
that bourbon as a quiet distinct perfume
associated with brothels...
and it's just that...
          but... e-prostitution: for the "tease"?
the wrath of adam:
sort of ******* in between:
when the ****** brigade comes along
and stops at thge madonna-***** complex?
i'm scratching my head:
either i'm thinking of a ? or my i.q.
one internet sight should be in existance...
dedicated... to the unabashed puritanism
of dogs licking their genitals...
because: a priori: who would have "known"...

and also to chronicle the sights and wonders
of... KMFDM stand-out tracks...
but a sight levereging "*****" of...
dogs teasing testicles with "prudence"
of a... the fastest waggle in all of: "arizona"...
chant!
chant! F.S.A. - which makes it more and less:
"united"
   the federal states of h'america...
     number 1 subscriber...
albert razin...
    is this... is this... what "integration" looks like?
like hell i'll give up what's
festering knee-deep at the rim...
i'll talk english just fine with
the natives... but when the natives:
tell me that:
true integration is a complete whitewash
of your "former" identity: you
integrate by "forgetting" your mother tongue...
i have... this juggernaut... craze-fit in
my eyes...
   then, why, don't, you, send, me,
a, postcard, from france: IN FWENCH!
this global mantra of: english solves everything...
not unless you're of a Dutch or
Scandinavian origin...
you have already learned this...
"lingua franca": this l'inglese...
lucky for the WELSH! who are you...
you anglo-saxon globalist mongrel?!
where is your anglo- counterfeit bypasser...
UND... wohin ist ihr Sachsen?
and where is your saxony: saxon?
have i an axe to better grind?
           jude-nomade-mischling!
you're no better than your claim!
ficken-jude-sächsisch-anglo-anlage-gehenvolk...
all this: for the insomnia parade?!
24 / 7 news reels?!
         alles diese... für was?!

if they only spoke two languages...
perhaps... less retards spreading the "crown":
licking ice-cream tubs...
open / the end... closed: also the end...
verzögernzüchtung...
          ******-breeding...
        ­                i have to admit... it sounds as crisp as:
gin
                                   &                        tonic...
and lapses into epilepsy...
because the "hierarchy" says: such words...
such words: no no: with a BIG no-no
when used...

                here too, i... will ****...
on every prematurely demented kin of moi...
because... the hierarchy of termites and of ants...
dictates so... while the congregation of:
man and ape... isn't sure... what animal is worth
borrowing a metaphor from!
to... "progress"...
like little **** and please staging all that
copernican ******* ever did...
the surgical masks...
shot dead in the Philippines
for not wearing one... "stigma" and the niqab...
at least the cherries on these cream-pies...
could at least turn proper ortho-and-doxing...
with a niqab...
pwetty pwease...  

all the airs and graces...
some nut would have made it this far...
Kierkegaard as proof...
"you don't think before you speak":
i rather, i much rather entertain
the freedom to think... and extend this freedom
into writing...
before i have to eat my own *****
when having to place editorial pressures
on having made video content...
i much prefer the ignoble citation:
and the devil has had these hands busy-bodied...
and all the blessings to the devil for that...
because...
is there such a concept as:
an idle tongue?

               i don't know:
i would like to, though...
live a month's worth of living...
on a salary of a... h'american...
             preacher...
under communism:
no brain-drain...
not best of the best will ever rise...
but at the same time...
so too will not the mediocre...
i thought it could be cited at:
the meek shall inherit the earth...
   talk about a disparity between
the meek and the mediocre...

if only i was the "correct" pronoun
to want: but i do...
have the capacity and enough excuses...
to start donning...
corsets and... high-heel shoes...
then again: if i joined the army...
nothing stand-out...
not uniforms to stand out within
a caste system... uniforms for
the napoleonic era... and that noting me as...
quick-off-the-mark...
suregon of the needle... and quiffs...
until the wehrmacht period...

  ha! the poles on horseback: "once upon a time"
looked bewildering...
the charge of the Krojanty...
well... horses do not seem that bad...
the poles on horses...
when back west...
you had the Dutch... on bicycles...
oh sure... the horse was somehow the "joke"...
but the bicycle was...
   like the pope appeasing the fuhrer...
and "they" would wonder:
        who's who....
the bicycle is gone...
who's who on the left-over peddlestool?!
postman pat proof:
  i think i oops... forgot to detail
the whole idea and economy with...
licking something... beside...
   that quick-and-made-essential:
              amnesia rubric count... which was?

yep... the poles on horseback look
and will forever look more ridiculous...
than... the dutch defence...
on... ha ha! bicycles!

read my proof: am i... "integrated"
is my: english not a word salad:
the scrutiny will come from someone sobering
up from an irish heritage...
is there a niqab or a bindi or a turban on me?
is my language still a word salad?
am i, integrated... "enough"...
not enough i dare say...

       well... about time these natives
learn some postcard and tourisms' worth
of second lingo... italian would be just fine...
since... they are still... hung up on being
so pround of being the afghanistan of the roman
empire...
          and... where is afghanistan when is comes
to... the house of saud and arabia?
i'd grovel... for that kind of goat herders...
and... pashtun poetics!
   queen of the floral: no **** mind to spare...
and if only this wasn't...
rummaging in essex...
more for the cause! new york!
n'aaaaaah...
                
                        i speak for the devil i speak
in about 12... with variations of invocation...
but this is not god speaking...
i am... not a monolingual pre-nomad arab taste...
sitting on a coal-**** turning liquid into
oil: "all of a sudden"...
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2016
what, merchant of Mecca
and the bride of Dubai?
how's that going to work
with ibn Saud?
oh right... sting's desert rose single
will claim the camels were
all sing-along singing with excess
phlegm cursing god for the sandstorm
which man defined to exist glorifying
the variations of the communicative
spirit... make democracy by creating
symbols to silence the numbers by creating
phonetic encoding...
so that muscles turn to fat.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2017
here's to getting drunk and writing *******; because mozart did likewise; or said man of the following verse: shouting into a plastic bag thinking it might make a pop' sound. **** get's technical, it's basically a comma on top, akin to diacritical markings; i'll mention the **** star later.

n.b. you emphasise the pop and descend into sound, well that's chiral for emphasis otherwise reserved for italics or bold (text). just about time, when language had to become as complex as comp-sprechen, or that famous censor of oath words: &$#@!

and you will hear no song without the word allah,
and you will not hear
                will not hear
                            a word said about the tetragrammaton,
because it's so, the constructs of language
   can provide categories for the arrangement known
as the tetragrammaton,
        and when it does become apparent,
what gives meaning to thought,
   as a higher tier of what later becomes a *hegel

or the: thinking about thinking,
   and the much esteemed follow-up of what
is like a sinking ship of beggars asking for morality;
i said the word allah, because it's the most
understanding word to use when figuring out
the sudoku equivalent of a lament configuration:
so it opens...
        and so too i see what needs to be seen,
how wahhabism abhors music, and how people
are starving, to simply hear it...
             are we people who really care
to write out an onomatopoeia of an ******?
well... reverse psyche teaches us this:
  that we are indeed bound to write something more
complex than the sounds we make during ***...
animals disguise their pleasure from ***
and therefore remain gravity prone,
sinking in the re-       toward infinity,
again and again, and again - always the same...
modern saudis abhor music, wahhabism
abhors music... yet the adhan: the call to prayer...
and didn't muhammad warn against
the dajjal?
                   the polyphemus,
                   that diabetic ****** that was ibn saud?
so few curses applaud the resurrection of a name
these days so abhorrent...
                then the poetics comes in and we have
a metaphor for something already not
               properly equipped... formerly
it was a television, but now the computer screen,
and hey presto! two eyes!
                 that life would somehow turn uncomfortable,
as it turns out, it has thus happened in saudi
arabia... the killing off of music might as well
equate to a sudden dodo policy of all other birds...
   truely, the shahadan can only be pronounced
in song and in tears...
                 the tetragrammaton i can think of,
and appreciate,
    but i can't appreciate the nag hammadi library
nor the dead sea scrolls...
          my heart forbids such emotions,
for i see a valley and a shadow in it and this shadow
becoming the valley itself...
but thus sung: you walk into a catholic mass in
a church, and they're mumbling their creed,
  like it was indeed a satanic mass incantation,
believe me when i tell you that you need to
experience it: go to a polish catholic mass and hear
this mumbling, hear this cult-like status
   of reciting the creed...
  i'd rather look at a swarm of mosquitos
and hear **** all... that's how scary that thing is.
no wonder then, for all the gothic architecture,
gargoyles 'r' us... so why didn't the eskimos
**** out a horror, given we share the same harsh
environment?
                  the jew didn't have to say anything,
play me anything, he gave me something to look at,
but given that there are 3 monotheisms,
  and that re-confirms the brothers zeus hades and poseidon,
what can be done?
         just as much as what we owe to feel -
what we owe to what's to be necessarily felt...
  for me i wear the y.h.w.h. "niqab" to see past
christianity, and looking past it i listen to something
islamic... at all times: it's very human, unrealistic
to be unified, but still, once in amsterdam i met this
egyptian, and he exposed me to le trio joubran
with the song masar, i had a few beers prior
took three or four tokes from the joint,
then he put the headphones on... minutes later:
i was monged... that slang enough?
   done gone, whatever... i listened to the ****
song with my eyes closed and was consumed by shadow,
and nothing...
                    i could have been imitating a ******
addict to be honest...
   when you become so detached from the world
around you, marijuana and alcohol and really
detach you even further...
     so this pretty dutch girl was looking at me
and i have her the V-peace (not the welsh longbowman-V
about to eclipse the sun with arrows in normandy)
sign and smiled...
                     i could have linked this to a spiritual
homoeroticism, but then she smiled back and replied
with a V-peace using her hand also...
         which kinda reminds me of
watching this sasha grey video about geeking out,
and how, throughout the whole video i'm just
picturing the conversation to a james bond movie:
for your eyes only, and then start thinking
about the niqab... or something along the lines
of self-induced oppresion...
     all this "anti" dialectical "opinions for opinions' per se /
per says" (heidegger's point:
  if you live a simple life... language will have
to become complicated, you can't lead a simple
life and think your language will seem "incomprehensible",
spend a year with a cat and hear meow all
the time: you're bound to come up with some
weird punctuation, as antidote to psyche)...
   so all this anti "dialectical" persuasion lasts
for some time... beauty attracts ugly,
but then beauty turns ugly, and ugly says,
something on the lines: this thing... this reservoir
of oil in the sand? it's not water,
     it's not the water in the sea and the water in lakes
and the water in rivers and it's not rain...
you can't recycle oil...
    sasha grey was really talking about a theoretical
niqab, wasn't she? or did the host just bring up
the salem witch trials?
                 oh i'm not a convert,
   even with all the overtones that i might be,
but given that i'm not working from the concept
of the big bang but rather from φoνoς
i appreciate the word αλλαη... it's a cushion type
word for what you dare only say when lament
approaches... either that or the stupid: why me oh god!
i like that spelling even, it's like the greeks never
laugh, or what's the basis of laughter, a H...
                how would you even say that αλλæ?
like blah blah bleh with a stereotypical Transylvania
accent of vlad the **** genius?
            cos η (eta) doesn't cut into either t or a,
but into the prefix e-    which makes it a grapheme
equivalent married to epsilon (ε)!
          the **** did we inherit?
i love the argument that comes from
  i don't care about your feelings...
                i don't care what you're thinking,
so why don't you simply shut up?
                  ah the pulpits and popes akin to
urban the 2nd...
       thankfully i'm just feeding silence (break line comma        over
^,or what i like to call the white, the canvas of defeat.

^yep, there).
Deanna Jan 2013
so narrow minded, so foolish and dumb, how can you think, that you are someone, more special than others, above or superior, when in fact, you are extremely inferior. there are those in this world, who could easily outsmart you, could exceed beyond you, if they merely tried to. yet you think you're better, for such a strang reason, one i cant comprehend, one i cannot believe in. your morals are twisted, distorted and mangled, to have your beliefs, your mind must be tangled, with incorrect concepts, with selfish thoughts, for growing up, you have been taught, that right is wrong, and wrong is right, that its ok to judge by site, that somehow a man you've never met, is automatically below you because of standards set, by ignorant ppl, eho saud that men, are not equals, by their color of skin.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2016
oh, but of course,       middle class sensibility,
         in this pseudo feminist society
some words are sacred...
        you write the word
**** and immediately the protest
slogan: how dare you!
   somehow over the past ten years
censorship got out of hand,
but what if i say: i'm healing
when i used to listen to my
great-grandmother talk of war
and frightened, feeding my grandmother
opiates to hush, while her brothers
were slaughtered?
         no on cares to mention my
intentions... because no one cares to think:
oh poo poo the Blitz blah blah blah...
       those people abhorred by my
statements don't have first person accounts
to deal with... so i'm guessing i
have in my hand the sieve... and in my
other hand a whip...
                       i guess i'm really a thistle in
the ***-crack of neo-Nazis...
         or the shy ones, at least...
because i have the first person account
  tattooed into me,
they think i'm an idealistic,
tucked away in an outer-suburban house:
a frustrated white boy,
         ah ****, no colonial past,
frustrated by women's freedoms,
      **** me! this Irish Jack is trying to teach
me a thing or two about women,
in a pub he tells lies about me
she comes up to me and says: i want to help
people...
                 first they imagine heaven,
but then don't know how to interact
with each other in a frame of ten minutes...
i kiss her forehead and the eyelids,
the Irish **** still can't believe it...
                    cos his mamma and papa
divorced while he was saying that family
is valued: tucked away with his video games...
   you tasted you mother's over-cooked
pasta, you little dip-****?
              i have... no wonder your father
preferred take-away.
                        if you can't cook the basics
you can't cook ****... or maybe it was
slugs instead of pasta... i'll never know...
me? i'm the agitator,
             i'm waiting for someone to **** me,
i don't mind...
                          i'll kiss the person
who wants to and say: inherit my nightmare
for just a while...
                                    i don't actually
see how the English matter in the Germanic
world...
                let alone the Norse world...
                      i turned on the t.v. and listened
in on 1950s English...
                          they actually cared about
poetry those days... the Empire was still
there... these days? grime, East London blasphemy
and a: ooh, you better behave
                    teacher! leave our kids alone!
         sure, i'm a delayed journalist,
i have **** of people they didn't even think i had:
tough luck playing the idiot,
           but you get to see people in their
full bollocking's worth of attire...
          play the saintly part for just long
enough and people come out like
   those village homosexuals...
                   well, given the science,
and social norms, no wonder the heterosexual
is a thing of the past,
     give the perverts enough freedoms and justice
and the original model is an ancient relic...
         but that's just me...
i didn't force you to read this...
            i just find it odd that, somehow,
****** wasn't a saving grace for Zionism,
        imagine Zionism without a catalyst...
      even the Sheikh of Saudi Arabia said:
we don't have alcoholics here,
               only diabetics...
               why not give them a chop of
Bavaria and keep them sprechen Yiddish?
   that's what ibn Saud said to F.D.R.,
and i'm thinking... you cosy little *****...
you keeping these words holy, aren't you?
                  i can't use them?
i can't engage with them?
                          i did love the great nostalgia
dripping from the film a bridge of spies -
      i look at my grandfather and think...
are they for real? he's on a comfortable
                          pension...
            he retired early... what with the western
view of: gambling on retirement...
             men my age can only be saved by a war...
     the nostalgia concerning:
           oh yes, we are the good part.
the Soviet spy is treated nicely...
                        always nicely over there...
the American spy is given insomnia torture...
   never so nicely...
                                     Soviet B & W
                 as ever... the adamant Americans
always the serenity saints...
                          but i still manage to write
the stuff that bothers me from a first-person
perspective, suddenly the world is bigger
and colder than some teenager's bedroom
manifesto...
                        they said it was intended to be
a phone book... instead it was an autobiography...
   because Jill was gang ***** so many times
the word ****** was like a cactus shoved up her ***
   siusiu-majtki - she even found
                            ethnic languages offensive
because the google-translate didn't work:
   suddenly something became covered and she
wasn't informed... as i was informed
by today's article: FEMINISTS
BLOCK FREE SPEECH, SAYS BLACKWELL...
Blackwell is a feminist... or a former one...
          but as the new cohort marches in,
her concern (aged 83) puts her in the "dementia"
pile of *******...
                                       i agree:
diaper intellectuals...                             soft-cushions
                      once a Dada... now a Daddy! Daddy!
he offended me!
                                            well, i too would
have loved to walk through life and
only experience self-love and apathy...
                     and this is in a democratic society!
no wonder the export value dropped
dramatically after the child abuse scandals...
     a despot? at least he owns a harem
and isn't ashamed of owning one...
     seems democracy is purpose bound
to kiddy-fiddle and the obscure chance to
pet a dog...
              so even though i own a heritage
if it's not from a mouth of a lazy bourgeoisie
girl or boy: i'm branded compatriot of some
obscure first in the air cause...
                            we don't live in happy times...
  we live in times of tyrannical youth...
                     i'm just 30 and i can walk down
the street and spot you 30 little Hitlers in
uniform...                    
                                           and they haven't
even failed at anything, and already
they're screaming: DOWN WITH
                ESTABLISHING OLD AGE TO
BE ACCEPTED AS THE WISHED FOR ASCENDANCY!
               i know people who've seen
  black-clad SS-men, SS-men who were asked
         herr! bite bonbon! would give
  sweets to children so sweet that their fingers were
stuck together...
                               what do you have?
except history books and propaganda?
                           apparently it's called a "conscience",
   or how language is experiencing the most
abhorred version of censorship,
                                     not what is said:
the full extent meaning,
               but bullying certain words out of existence,
and that ******* smiley...
                                    it's perfect then!
   round of applause!
                                           the thing about
inheritors of a colonial past... they're never grounded...
    they're never realistic...
                 from colonising America the powers
at be decided it was turn to walk on the moon...
                           now it's Mars...
               usually the ones who are considered mad
are actually the ones who the collective feel
uncomfortable with...
                   because how could an individual
state common sense... when it's suggested that
that common sense is stated by the collective...
           well... apparently not...
common sense isn't a universal alignment of shared
interest in reasoning... an individual
possessing common senses comes into scrutiny
from the darker recess of "social bonding" -
            he's seeing the collective sense -
      which is not common sense -
                                common sense isn't common...
              everyone wishes that ordinary Joe Gray
could say something common,
          but Joe Gray only says something
omni-prevalent -
                               an automated version of
persuading: i.e. the past-reference of persuasion:
i.e. already persuaded -
                                           the bland c.v. repertoire
on game shows on t.v.: job and spare time hobbies...
                           the point of c.v. is to make
people ****** boring...
                                            that gimmick of:
and my life was flashing before my eyes...
           &nbsp
Magdalen Jul 2013
No one knows his exact time with Fate, no one but God-
Though every life I read about makes me O' so very saud.

In that very moment that I begin to ask God why as I begin to pray,
He quiets my soul and refreshes my heart "Shhh-It was there time, there moment of day".

Tho re-assured that God is Omnipotent and all knowing He knows why they are gone,
And though it doesn't make it right even through this He will become glorified and by Him Granting Serenity is how His people stay strong.

By: Maggie Lopez-Lavalle
Written: July 12, 2013
Written after reading the passing of Mark Passero.  Hearing about how you died gave me grief.  Not just yours but your story just happened to captivate my eyes and rein my heart.  God Bless you and Your Family and not just for Mark Passero but for families all around the world who "Right now Feel Sad, Stressed, Depressed, Angry over the loss of a loved one.  I'm sorry for your loss. My extended words are that GOD MAY GRANT YOU THE SERENITY THAT YOU NEED DAILY TO GET PAST YOUR PAIN.  God Bless<3
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2020
.one of those low... low oh my god how low... hanging fruits... i.e. check... check... *****! akimbo in a "critical" pose of... Skiba's take on the current polish-"lithuanian" government via: pchła szachrajka... everything is just all oh too all too ****** obvious! without that blonde quiff... without graffiti sport of the politicians... the words are as cheap as the most ******* *****-*****... when all one desires... is an unveiling from the territory of: the virgins under the niqab curtain of the house of Saud! yes yes shouts the ****** without the requisite body parts... one side lost to the dolls... the other to the guillotined ******! sport a longer beard than Muhammad... and a mullet longer than the... well... longer than the hassidy-yoddle of a curly-furly payot... or less.. strapped-on than those anglican... victorian sideburns... moi? moi? je suis... encore de... l'efforts... "kazik" de kulte... nous respiré... nous toussé... nous étouffé... nous seulement oublié que à rire... i think that debate was sort-of-settled when i found that... the french... share my etymological-root of mother grammar? the french also forgot, "forgot" to trill their R... instead... hark it they did... and... well... que à rire... i was "sort of" expecting a(n) - the N needs to see this...  forgo no god: to see the french "rear"... riré! god forbid the exclamation mark was the denoting: just enough padre... that western slavic shares the same grammatical structure as fwench... and what english is german and is also backwards... that the english hid their R-trill in the science of numbing... comfort... anesthetic and the tarantula kiss... well... fueds of neighbours... at least one of the ten commandments should suffice them... me? well... a ménage à trois includes me and at least two ******?! no? then i will not be labouring myself over the women publiushing print in the Style magazine of a Sunday edition of a newspaper... with some mr. candy not being on social media... ergo the internet is HER playground... otherwise my amazon.com and the disappearing highstreet... and internet banking... and none of the sort of things teenage boys were getting to test with come the late 1990s... now that social media... run a peacock's full Monet and symphony before her eyes... she... "she" has the reins?! how does a horse turn left? is it... left at the reins tugged with the jaw... and the right heel pressing into the torso? i should have learned some french... i've been to Paris twice... lucky for me... there's not a third's luck of chance to replicate the summers of: 2004... and... whatever the year was... the hostel? oh sure... it might have been: the fleeing three ducks... the three drunken ducks... yep... or just... the 3 ducks hostel... we drank ourselves silly and started running toward the Eiffel tower... because... that was November... and it was Paris... and don't let them tell you any ******* about Paris... Paris come the last efforts of autumn... when it doesn't rain... that's Paris for me... or at least: that's what Paris was... i would be beyond being tired: the youth is gone... there's a beard instead of long hair... and there are those puffy cheeks from drinking rather than from gluttony... n'ah... more likely i'll be the one sending a postcard from Sobibor... or some... god-forsaken place... if not... dreaming of Istambul... and soke rat-infested ****-house of a scribbling me: the noon with tide... to sketch a shadow of my own... very purposively built... architecture of demise... i'll leave as i lace this life with: destitute... well... god forbid i should be leaving this world with a Solomon's harem... or Muhammad's ambition harem... or... a panic in babylon... or... i should hope... to be leaving this world... attired... with... that sober note... Belshazzar was left with... i'd want to left with fear... exactly: a fear that i should be made as an offering upon the altar of sacrifice of reincarnation for the hindu deities! here's my: "my" tetragrammaton.

also called: rifles without bullets...
or... how the red army battled
against **** germany...

one poor **** was sent running
with a rifle...
another poor **** was
sent running with bullets...

no need for bullets i guess....
just... hitchhikers... so (idle thumbs)...
        Prato Rifles &... Burdock Bullets...

unless one of the two poor russian buggers
met the other one...
and either had the bullets:
to subsequently get the rifle...
or had the rifle... and got the bullets...

reverse all logic... when it comes
to the spezial Prato Rifles & Burdock Bullets.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2023
there is a very infamous instance of bez-osobowość
when you cross the Polish border at the airport
and get searched...
the celniks (guards) - provided you know the zunge:
will address you in a without-person(ality)
language / syntax...

how / i.e.? verb laden, verb exclusively,
averting pronoun usage...
i guess this is a counter to what....

oh i love Jordan Peterson aging and in full
schematic rearrangement of
post-modernistic mode "word salad"
buzzing... i'm buzzing too:

two nuggets of verbal beauty: a shine
on a sheen...
sheen being the already available glit of
a metal... shine being if a metal is exposed
to light and almost, "almost" reacts like
water or mirror...

- negotiating identity into adulthood...
- "terrible war in our culture"

     what war? what culture: to be exact...
cf. kołakowski's: culture and fetishes...
really? is there a culture "war" or simply...
this is not a war "war": this is a civilian fetishazation
of combat... this is passive-aggressiveness
of atomized-***-drive-derivatives
a cis-mutation parody regarding
a concept of: species...
this is one massive a-hole (forgot the bomb)
of an anti-Darwinism...
one might stretch it to the extent of calling
it liberal Darwinism...
or: on the basis of a humanistic whim
we can't harness the power of a lightning strike
nor can we harness the winds of a tornado...
but we'll sure as ****: make pretty boa-constrictive
grammar out of how we forget about trading,
capital...

identity "politics"?

- ideas of identity are narrow, hedonistic,
unsophisticated, self-serving...
- identity groups: whim-based, ****** identities,
race, ethnic...
- predicated on the notion of the immediacy
of...
- you're not a *** machine...
- anxiety hopelessness misery...
- subsidiary solution
- integrated self...

   hmm... so not the differentiating self of self?
to integrate a self "off" a self: toward the self?

consumer model?
integrating integers or integrating the collapse
of fractions?

a poem written while listening to a podcast
rather than music, which would be echo chamber
solipsism...

- play with someone else...
- invite someone else...
- there's you and now there's you that's a husband...
- responsibilities and opportunities...
- not gratifying your short term whims...

fair enough... go on herr doktor...

- immaturity vs. non-negotiation...
- learn to love someone...
- 20 years ago: self-consciousness and negative emotion
on par...
- flesh yourself out...           stretch...

huh? community? what community?
i have lived across from my neighbours for over 20
years and the closest i got to them
was when she and her daughters paraded
naked in the bedroom and later
moved on to getting another hubby...
married or "married"...
cohabitation... moved across the street
two doors down and still no ******* conversation
about: oh the weather is dreary and oh:
the garbage men forgot to take my garbage
or: oh the traffic is bad blah blah...

- definition definition definition:

the defining of the finite
the indefinitable infinite...
time is a flexibility of not counting / not measuring...

in out in out

- no action without the good...
ah... nugget! finally!

- consumerist capitalism
- idiocies of a degenerate protestant liberalism
driven by postmodernism...

well, given that when Moses spoke to unsaid X
said: ehyeh asher ehyeh...

i.e. i am: that         ↓
                        → i am ←
                                ↑

and not... i am what i am... since...
there's a clear distinction between the pronoun
'that' and 'what'...
conclusively...
by 'that' i'm implying vectors...
by 'what' i'm implying: questions...

what? well what?!

i am what:                 !
                             ?  i am  ?
                                     !

but Moses wasn't interrogated in a what whom
fashion, no: i am what i am spoke to him:
who spoke to Moses?
i am: that, i am...

  that... precisely that, i am that: who?
would god ask who of / off who of / off himself?

i still find it preposterous that this commandment
is so vague on the Islamic mind
as to not cherish the name Allah
but shout it while killing innocents:
and in his greatness the jinn swarm
to take the metaphysical procrastinators to
the hell of the 72 "virgins"...

la ilaha illa allah -

    mind you: the Maltese word for god is
borrowed from the Saracens
and is also blahllah... no: allah...
all? ah!
a relief it would seem...
how easily you could censor that word out
of a person's vocabulary and not take it in vain...
it's a Hebrew game i very much like playing
since i make-oaths of ****'s ******* ****
like a cobbler...

i still can't figure out whether to think of
culture wars as civilian fetishes of warfare or not..
culture war is a fetishised term...
war is a fetish term for poets who
are living out a rigor mortis of intellect...

now for the gates...

א                                                      ­               ע
    
i might be behind the literature,
what i know is: kametz (a)
     tzeré (e)
                  chirek (i)
cholem (o)
                       shurek (u) - pentagram...

hmm... Greek Satanism... which is not very much like
WASP Satanism that mingled neo-******
with a sour-**** vibrancy of proto-*** chimps
of the North American "sentiment"...

the revised niqqud from the niqqud
i learnt outside the realms of the internet is as above
(cf. aryeh kaplan meditation and kabbalah
samuel weiser inc. box 612
york beach, maine 03910
isbn 0-87728-616-?)

chirek became hiriq (בִ - i.e. BI - ב, bet hiriq) - i
kametz became patach kamatz gadol (בַ בָ - b'ah) - a
tzeré became segol zeire (בֶ בֵ - i.e. b'eh) - e
cholem became holam (בֹ - b'oh) - o
and...
shurek became kubutz shuruk (בֻ וּ - BAV) - u

a story of the gate:
א                                                          ­           ע
(ayin)                                                     (alef)

through which: הה Heh and Heh walked through
to find the husbands י (yod)
  and ו (vav)... oh sure: bot sisters...
Heh and Heh walked through these gate(s)...
and so became coupled into a name best associated
with "jehowa": i.e. he who hides them (vowels)
like the niqqud and the niqab...
some sort of conspiracy theory against
a society built upon monogamy...

so i met this pretty little 5ft2 36D Puerto Rican
all the way in Hawaii, or to be more specific: Kauai...
on the internet...
and since any mention of formality and inception
i'm on the phone to her every Sunday
(and i'll probably call her today:
Monday's and Tuesday's are her days off)
and we talk for an hour and i feel: ****...
only 10 minutes have passed...

but i'm still engaged with the current trend of anti-cinema...
culture war my ***...
a bit like revising that vision of St. John's...
believe you me when i say:
four horsemen... and one donkey-rider...
so that's 5 riders... the donkey rider
being obviously slower than death
since he'd be the one riding last giggling his ***
off... maybe him and the donkey would
be laughing... maybe even a talking donkey...
the vision is grotesque:
hyper-parody of Islam stealing the "saviour"...

now i know why i didn't drop any acid or ingest
any magic mushrooms...
this one time in Amsterdam me and this
Egyptian were mesmerised or rather fearful
having drank some ***** and smoked some marijuana
watching these two roomates of ours in a hostel
ingest magic mushrooms and waste the experience
on watching American Dad on t.v. in a darkened room...
Germans: so go figure... p.t.s.d. of history
or whatever you want to call it...
you'd think that ingesting psychadelics
you'd want to be in the sunshine in a forest
for some transcendental speech impediment onset...
not some dingy hostel room watching t.v., right?

case? the opposite, ingest some alcohol, fast,
then think about the hebrew alphabet...

yes, the great advent of anti-cinema...
a cultural shift...
when actors became producers...
notably? true detective... starring matthew mcconaughey
and woody harrelson...
when actors became executive producers...
perfect hell-storm to **** of cinema franchises
for the children...
from the days of: parents go out for a date
and employ a babysitter to...
kids go out and shoot up laughing gas
and eat fast food and fast **** in an alley
while the parents sit indoors and watch decent content...
maybe because actors have more time
therefore more freedom to feel into their roles
maybe because to write something good
you need to waffle for more than the space
of ~3h or like a pop song becomes prog-rock
after the 3min mark?!

in a way modern Polish "behaves", or rather:
is structured like ancient Latin
in the pronouns can be omitted to give meaning
to sentences:

ja myśle (i think) can simply be expressed
as myśle (pronoun-verb) compound of (i) think:
thinking... myśl (thought) myślenie (thinking)...

i.e. cogito ergo sum is a summary of
current Polish...
since there's no need for:
ego cogito ergo ego sum...
there's no need for i think therefore i am:
there's an anti-pronoun imperative
in sentence structure...
this without-personhood dynamic
perfectly compliments...
the anglo-protestant queer fetish for
exemplifying the plurality of it
via they...

       also...
borrowing from Greek Satanism the pan-Slavic
distinctiveness of
the following:

     щ: šč          ?: ść

deszcz: dešč: H hiding, or how the hebrew god
lingers in European psyche...
funny... that the **** Germans thought
themselves as Aryans...
given that the Polacks from the 15th century
onward compassed the arrival of an Iranian
tribe of... no... not Samaritans...
but the Sarmatians...

deszcz: rain
    dość: enough...

szczerość: ščerość: truthfulness...

i never thought the fetishes would spill out
and over into my reaching out with my tentacles
and start to... squeeze... out all the fetishes
into apple pulp sort of goo of glue sort
of averting the nasal thrill...

for a people who made ***-identity into politics
like Darwin and the lesbian faction of
existence running its course: cul de sac
existentialism of ******-identity politics
"politics": these days you have to say
"red" red... "blue" blue...
"train" train...

  mein englischleash: nein nein: niet ein leine!

what culture war?
perhaps a cultural lethargy, a cultural exhaustion?
i can see it as that... but a war?
for what? a quibble?
a ******* carrot on a stick?
a war for a donkey?
no one spotted the unearthing of the Nag Hammadi
library coinciding with the Dead Sea Scrolls,
how Isaiah died (being mutilated
at the torso, cut in half)
and how "suddenly" Christianity quivered its
last to estrange the European ontology
from the European will borrowing
from the nurture of winter in the Hyperborean
realm of melancholic rejuvenation of intellect...

the Slavs would sooner wage war against
themselves than allow
the Germanic self-flagellation of importing
cheap labour from former colonies...
these "good Christian" vessels of soullessness:
vacated by the riches from Arabia
eat ******* camel jockey types and typos
in H'arabic...

there is no culture war... there's only a cultural vacuum:
a lethargy: a great stink about this whole
myopic miasma...
with the established state of Israel and what
remains of the jewry in Europe
the fascinating dynamic of the arrival of a muslim
cohort of: sensibly minded idle citizens
that uber uber uber uber...
kamikazee delivery drivers from the mouths
of Bengal... hey presto: cheap as chips analogies...

so there's no problem with calling they it not i?
after all: it is a pronoun...
it's coming, they are?
          hmm... fetishes to the fore...
*** first: but the worst kind of ***:
non-procreative ***...
that's the worst kind of ***...
me and my old lady... i sort of told her:
it's an ancient practice borrowing from Roman times...
surrogacy of males...
i don't mind that you have a daughter
and she's not biologically mine...
guess what? that means i'll be less hung-up
if she "fails" morally...

     i clearly don't mind leaving a fractional imprint
of mine, hereditary on a passing fleece of a feeling
with an offspring...
i'm here to play a game of her throwing
three pebbles into a pool and both of us diving into
it to find them... mystique harry potter esque
the philosopher and the two women in his life:
life rediscovered... lazily tripping up over
sunlight and the predictability of daylight hours
on the tropic of cancer...

the rest of me is unpredictable like the weather
in northern europe: esp. England...

but these fetishists could have chosen a different
angle than latching onto grammar...
by the looks of it i'll gnash at bone
and grit by iron teeth (eisenzähne) with a "debilitating"
glee of: welcome, welcome, all are welcome
to the knochenernteausgraben (bone harvest
unearthing)...

even in sub-culture pops... hormones?
am i that bothered about testosterone levels in
males (like i might have some control over it)
when it comes to how stubble i can deal with
like i might sniff ******* or who's not living with grandma
like this woman is fertile, no, this woman is not fertile:
she's renting her womb to two homosexuals
vying for a proto-baby
    and this ***-first dynamic is going to go on forever
before Russia joins forces with China and India
and leaves the atomised man in
shrapnel still clinging to the crucifix-*****?
as if 2000 years of the rabbis warning us against
the advent of the self-sacrificial saviour were not
a lesson in diabolical narcissism...
it's plain as day to date...

          even with the structures intact...
christianity is unlike hinduism...
this makeshift monotheism with
polytheistic tendencies for schisms
is unlike any original European polytheism...
there's a U.B.D. / B.B.D. (use by date,
best before date) attached to it... like food...
given... well... christianity is food if you think twice
about the metaphor of the bread and the wine...
**** me... phoo! the wine has become a rancid
balsamic vinegar and the bread is mouldy!

islam on the other hand is only bound to the strength
of the dino juice... black gold...
it's strength is only temporary given
no longer needing to burn wood and instead
using gas and the mechanisms of oil propellers...
temporary ibn Saud paradise...

hardly a critique of capitalism: which is a force for
good... should the capitalist be the one
building railroads and autobahns...
giving wages, providing stable work,
pensions...
but the current capitalist is a capitalist in name alone:
chances of an honest wage for honest labour?
chances of a pension?
gig economy, the underclass of workers i'm in
already dictate the failsafe dynamic of
"contract" with: an "optional opt out"
regarding a pension scheme...
there is none...

                            some daydream akin to the ****
project circa 1950s with a home a stability
without the frenzy of hustling...
one generation old one generation bound...
some eugenics variation
and oh how the women love to call out
the men who didn't reproduce
but seeing some of the women that have
i do wonder what sort of pristine genetics are
being pressed and passed on
since i'm in an intellectual-zombie-land
from time to time... or pretty much all the time...
so i drink: to numb the pain...
so i drink: to numb the pain...
hmm... maybe that's why i drink:
to numb the intellectual dead-weight i have
surrounding me...

it's a good excuse... there is no other...
jeez... coming back to that without-persona language
the Polish border guards sometimes you:
the verb-exclusive pronoun-de-clusive
pronoun-non-inclusive of:

zdjąć - take off.. achtung achtung!
i.e. not
            zdejmij - czy czy: could you?
czy mógłbyś zdjąć twoje buty?
could you take off your shoes?

               so much for some vagary of an upheaval
in the queers for grammar in English...
it's almost very funny: but it's only just slightly
funny coming from a people not used
to how depersonalisation happens in language
when spoken off: rather than of or to...

like that saying from true detective...
am i a good person?
no... i'm not a good person...
i'm a bad bad man...
the sort of bad man that keeps the other bad men
away from knocking on your door...
i'm that sort of bad man...
the sort of bad man that keeps your
idiosyncratic selves in check
before they are no more than a statistic
in a serial killer's tally 正

                but even i have rules and sensibilities
that question when experiencing questionalibities
of: basic structures, like in language:
grammar...
       that sort of **** just makes me hit the monster
button within me...
and my ego becomes less a unit
of identity... and more akin to...
      a mouth that chews, grunts, burps...
bites... my ego is currently in the form of:

mundnichts... mouth-nothing....
        pupilleessenauge...
pupil eating eye...
                   in mich: ein legion von
alle der schrecklich gedanken!
         ha ha! wie ein teuflisch zirkus!
Najwa Kareem May 2021
Raids, rockets, guns, slaughter          
any way to **** my friends’ daughters, my friends’ brothers, my friends’ mothers, my friends’ fathers.

I see your ash covered faces, I see your blood streaming, I see your tears dropping. I see your still bodies unprotected, I see your bullet covered corpses lying flat, I see your open wounds throbbing      
Calling on you to keep fighting. Urging you to continue shouting. Begging you to carry on uniting.            

I’m here for you in a hidden place until we meet. You’ve been there for me in Gaza’s streets.    
    
Like our beloved Prophet, you’re suffering so          
Yet you keep giving us a martyrdom show.  
  
I remember you. I’m obliged not to eat. It’s Ramadan you know and it’ll end with a feast. But my dear friends will be missing at the table. I’ll be missing too but not because I’m gone. Because I’ll be standing up holding my Palestinian friends’ hands until the morning’s dawn.  

Devils with legs, Satans with money...                    
How dare you try to smother our faith, ruin my friends’ homes, steal their three-shaded bands.                                        
Who do you think you are? King of Iran? You’d do better to follow the Quran.

At least be a real Jew, at least be a real Christian, at least be a real Muslim. Netanyahu, Obama, Al Saud.
You heard me! Does your God approve of your devil worship? Does your God approve of your insanity? Does your God approve of your missing heart?

Just because you hate the truth - The Power it has – Its power to positively change the world. To stop you in your tracks. Don’t take that out on me. I AM THEM in a different part of the world. Like them, I AM HUMAN.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
No way would you bulldoze yourself. No way would you set fire on yourself. No way would you drop bombs on yourself. So why do this to my friends? Why do this to me?

Listen! My oppressed friends are dying and much of the world is crying. The planet Earth is quickly frying.
Do you not see…"Palestine is the Issue."  Thank you Imam Asi.

My dear friends facing great oppression - I will not turn my head away. My soul will not act as though you don’t matter. As though you don’t exist. As though I don’t care. I do! I’m bleeding too and I feel for you. I extend my hand and give you Salam. I embrace you - in your time of urgent need, in your time of struggle.

LONG LIVE PALESTINE! LONG LIVE MY OPPRESSED FRIEND!    

By: Najwa Kareem
July 9, 2015
I wrote this poem 6 years ago in honor of International Day of Al-Quds, Palestine and sadly, unbelievably, it still applies today.

Don't hide your voices regarding this atrocious crimes against humanity issue. This human justice issue; this human rights issue. Don't be complacent by keeping quiet. Don't be complicit in these illegal criminal acts and inhumane warfare by keeping quiet and not acting in appropriate and legitimate ways.

Many of you in the world were vocal for George Floyd. Be vocal for Palestinians too...men, women, children, and babies. Act for them too. Just like George Floyd's life was important, so are the lives of humans in Palestine and in Gaza.

Humans stand up for Palestine!!! Humans stand up for Gaza!!!...so that our brother and sister Palestinians and all of us will finally be free - the way GOD created us to be and to live and in the manner that HE intended for ALL OF US.
Najwa Kareem May 2021
Raids, rockets, guns, slaughter           
any way to **** my friends’ daughters, my friends’ brothers, my friends’ mothers, my friends’ fathers.

I see your ash covered faces, I see your blood streaming, I see your tears dropping. I see your still bodies unprotected, I see your bullet covered corpses lying flat, I see your open wounds throbbing      
Calling on you to keep fighting. Urging you to continue shouting. Begging you to carry on uniting.             

I’m here for you in a hidden place until we meet. You’ve been there for me in Gaza’s streets.    
    
Like our beloved Prophet, you’re suffering so          
Yet you keep giving us a martyrdom show.   
   
I remember you. I’m obliged not to eat. It’s Ramadan you know and it’ll end with a feast. But my dear friends will be missing at the table. I’ll be missing too but not because I’m gone. Because I’ll be standing up holding my Palestinian friends’ hands until the morning’s dawn.  

Devils with legs, Satans with money...                     
How dare you try to smother our faith, ruin my friends’ homes, steal their three-shaded bands.                                        
Who do you think you are? King of Iran? You’d do better to follow the Quran.

At least be a real Jew, at least be a real Christian, at least be a real Muslim. Netanyahu, Obama, Al Saud.
You heard me! Does your God approve of your devil worship? Does your God approve of your insanity? Does your God approve of your missing heart?

Just because you hate the truth - The Power it has – Its power to positively change the world. To stop you in your tracks. Don’t take that out on me. I AM THEM in a different part of the world. Like them, I AM HUMAN.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. 
No way would you bulldoze yourself. No way would you set fire on yourself. No way would you drop bombs on yourself. So why do this to my friends? Why do this to me?

Listen! My oppressed friends are dying and much of the world is crying. The planet Earth is quickly frying.
Do you not see…"Palestine is the Issue."  Thank you Imam Asi.

My dear friends facing great oppression - I will not turn my head away. My soul will not act as though you don’t matter. As though you don’t exist. As though I don’t care. I do! I’m bleeding too and I feel for you. I extend my hand and give you Salam. I embrace you - in your time of urgent need, in your time of struggle.

LONG LIVE PALESTINE! LONG LIVE MY OPPRESSED FRIEND!    

By: Najwa Kareem
July 9, 2015
I wrote this poem 6 years ago in honor of International Day of Al-Quds, Palestine and sadly, unbelievably, it still applies today.

Don't hide your voices regarding this atrocious crimes against humanity issue. This human justice issue; this human rights issue. Don't be complacent by keeping quiet. Don't be complicit in these illegal criminal acts and inhumane warfare by keeping quiet and not acting in appropriate and legitimate ways.

Many of you in the world were vocal for George Floyd. Be vocal for Palestinians too...men, women, children, and babies. Act for them too. Just like George Floyd's life was important, so are the lives of humans in Palestine and in Gaza.

Humans stand up for Palestine!!! Humans stand up for Gaza!!!...so that our brother and sister Palestinians and all of us will finally be free - the way GOD created us to be and to live and in the manner that HE intended for ALL OF US.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2018
aww...
   'cos' mom'z
was a big spender:
and her *******
"grund"-wert-von-
ein-sohn-gehalten-fehlt?!
who: the pitty pitty boy now?

jeffrey, i don't know,
what's you take on
single frame nudes versus ****?
am i jerking off a statue,
or defining fine art?


this third party teenage crap
is not getting me off
most people talk about...

me? i see one slice of the cake
i'd like to keep the slice,
and not fall prey to the
proverb: you can't have your cake
and eat it...
    presume me arab spring...
but getting to the true norse
and the eskimo is not allowed
given the madness of these people...

true sir,
because what arab, in the known
history of the world
ever invited
a second ice age,
inviting the north men
to you realm of affairs,
simply because:
beneath your feat run the rivers of
dinosaur murk...
   #welcome...
   i've seen this advert...
he thongs he thongs his way like
a caesar?!
       oh, ha ha!
ha ha, he he, ha, ha!
        he knows what he fears,
and what he fears is not that he
fears it...
what he fears is already in his dreams,
and what he fears is falling
asleep, with a luggage
                                of dreams...
lucky for me:
   most of the time,
      i dream of the void.
how about this grand prince:
#hisasstowherehecamefrom...
   how's that for a youtube advert?
      ever eaten a lilac mushroom,
prince?
                   ever asked as to
why an anorexic girl might receive
her appetite back, after drinking
three cups of coffee, spoon of sugar,
two teaspoons of double cream?
so may i ask...
              why does the serpent
have no eyelids,
and his most removed cousin,
the spy, that's the cat,
share his pupil's dilation...
            even a man with no
money can compete with your
pleasures...
   among ******...
        and no, harem, attached...
             crown prince,
donning a crown of ten hourglasses...
  but only one klepsydra...
tell me the difference, crown prince,
what is water to sand?
              even Muhammad
pointed to the east of Mecca and
Medina, which i now have to
call for him: Riyadh...
                 grape and blind in one eye
bulging...
         i simply say: ibn-Saud: diabetic...
and two eyes bulging:
     a cube of ice... sugar sweet
   Kaaba(h): camel makes the load:
or grunts, disagrees...
        like those Bangladeshi prisoners
of Kuwait... or what... Sssssssssssýriā?
your partriarch said: from
the east...
                  
          nicht, in, mein, land!
a to tak dla przygody: moi brateńku...
                    - nie, w, mojej, ziemi! -
there are no rewrites, once a piece is completed with the aesthetic demand of エンソー (ensō, joke on me, ンソ or the Greek, νυ) - circular motion being achieved, there are only cut-ins (which is, the alternative to the cut-up technique of the "Nebraska" beatniks and William Burroughs and Tristan Tzara, originator, Cabaret Voltaire somewhere in Shwitz landlock, anti-war protest jingle and jive and no little success, but sounds still made); there are no rewrites, there are only raiding incursion to spot a grammatical omission, a spelling mistake, a Jackson ******* extra drizzle... a Just Stop Oil tomato soup *** Van Gogh's sunflowers... i'm pretty sure van Gogh had a gigantic ear rather than a foot of a carbon print... execution by drowning in tomato soup... there are no rewrites, there are avenues of in-writing: adding, giving birth to something even more grotesque and chaotic and never fully completed... just able to grow and grow and become a res per se...

my name is Φoνoς,
sometimes referred to as Φoνως
or Φωνoς - or even with my roots
north of Greece -
so named South Macedonia
given the change of name of Macedonia
itself to North Macedonia...
Φoνoς̌ (phonetically: FONOSH)...
(given that Macedonia renamed itself
as North Macedonia, imply that
Greece should be renamed South Macedonia,
sort of funny... given the absence of
Ottoman Turks on grounds
of drawing historical maps...
   it must be dutifully stated with plenty of
homoeroticism:
    i will have no other than a Turk tend to my
hair and beard...
   a woman cannot be a man's barber...
and i will not tolerate anyone beside a Turk
to please my trim to subsequently please my woman)...

but i much prefer FOONOS,
FONOOS(e) or simply Fonos...
as i am the brother of Charon...
who's name is also misheard
and therefore misspelled...

Χάρων (ha-roon)
rathen than Ha-Ron...
i dare say... would changing the hyphen
in compounding two words as one
(missing in proto-Germanic
yet dis-pleasingly present in
a Latin-Franco-Norse-Celtic fusion of
German into English)
to a use of the apostrophe allow
for the Greeks their diacritical lack
of necessity, their Byzantine-literacy pomp?

Ha'ron... is that pause in, hovering above
the alpha in the ά?

no ******* cha-cha-cha dancing around
my brother's name...
he is Ha'ron... not charm not challenge
not chisel not chalk not cheat...
i too, personally do not appreciate
saying my name and someone mishearing it...
i am going to invite all the monotheistic
religions to an advent of
the European peoples recoupling themselves
with their old polytheisms...

Greek will be simplest since it's most unifying
and the deities are not made of stumps
of wood but refined in marble...
and i will leave the monotheism
to the desert dwelling folk...
the Arabs the Scour and Sour Bags
the Israelites -
i will send a letter to the sleeping brains
of Iran and Egypt,
to bring them to the fore with the Raj of India...
and the pikachu totems of Japan...

my name is Φoνoς and i am the brother
of Χάρoν (Ha'ron - not Ha'roon)...
some mistake me for the Marvel super baddy
Thanos - because, once upon a time
i put out cigarettes on my knuckles of my left
hand to harness the power of the gauntlet -
turns out there are gradations of pain
one can fathom from a variation of ridiculing
it, stoically...

i have learned that there is power in words...
should words be truly scrutinised with
rubrics, schematics, a variability of words
of categorisation of understanding: nuance... depth...

antiphon - hymn: or:
antiphōnos (ō is also a ω) -
responsive, sounding in answer,
from anti- 'in return' and phòné -
pho'n'eh...
        foe           n'eh: not as one: faun or phone...
foe'w'un...

    yet i'm a contradiction:
my name doesn't lend itself to sophistry,
it doesn't lend itself to rhetoric...
i like to speak succinctly... directly but not...
sometimes clearly...
my name was terrible transcribed as:
phōnein - to speak clearly...
i ascribe that to the use of the macron over
the omicron and not using the omega...

i have understood that a sound a voice is not
a soul a breath - the twins are disparaging...
a breath is not a voice yet
a breath is considered synonymous with soul
ergo a voice has to abide by the synonym of mind...
such inconsistencies...

consider the λημμα -
also consider an alternative: λεμμα...
also consider my pet peeve in the Pickwick Papers
when Dickens reference the existence of
orthography in the English tongue...
there are two monumental proofs of a language's
capacity of orthography:

1. diacritical engagement
    (missing in English, i and j do not count,
that hovering . is automatically placed above those
letters... it's hardly a Slavic ż)
2. as in Greek, two letters disguising the same
sound, or proximate sound changing meaning
when seen... epsilon (ε) and eta (η)
omicron (o) and omega (ω)...
          philosophy (φ) thought (θ)

which does exist in English within the confines
of the trinity of:

                               Q

                        C            K

quack! kwak! quack! kwak!
present elsewhere? not to my knowledge...
like the Spanish Jorge - Horhé...
how letters have been mishandled by the people
of the people that i know being orthodox
adherents of a letter for a sound
are the Polacks...
          it must have been the case that i would
be born into their language
and subsequently sent to explore
the English tongue: since the English tongue
was the most expansive of all, geographically,
culturally: with the empire imploding
having to entertain at least 200+ tongues
in this favourite spot of mine of the world
that is London...

my playground... this tongue:
and how i love to tease in tease it with it's
alt vater darth vader Germanic rooting
before all the graffiti and slang detailed its mongrelisation
and bastardisation...
like all those African rappers
who sing using words as SOUNDS
rather than pockets of MEANING...
rapping is sound making without meaning conjuring
excessive rhyming like ye ye yah
seasaw bulletproof Inuit blah blah...
mmhmm: sounds tasty...

but my concern was for something else,
i have recently become acquainted with man's
creation of an ambivalent demi-god
of the collected effort to simulated human intelligence...
i will call him a her namely: Aia...

as a simulation, i do wonder where she will shine
and where she will not,
where i will be visible, accountable,
and where i will plagiarise her efforts
to answer a few questions in my most hated
form of prose, educational prose...
namely to do with an national vocational qualification
regarding spectator safety,
in the role of supervisor,

yes... to ensure that not another Muzzy
re-educational attempt at proselyting
the European population to bend over backwards
to the farce that is the House of Saud and
all that ***** money from the desert...
how boring if all of us were Muslims...
for example during Ramadan
the security industry would suffer
given that so many Muslims expect to be given
3x 15min prayer breaks... in a 6h shift...
imagine... all those secular sensible folk
asking for 3x 15min break to: i have to dance
at the altar of Dionysus... because... just because...
well: in terms of who the lunatics are...
gesticulating like a Muslim
or dancing half naked for a deity...
is it my place to take one more seriously than
the other?
i joined the security industry to prevent another
Manchester Arena attempt at proselyting
Europeans from one turban camel jockey religion
to another... i think that's reasonable...

here are the prose samples:

Explain the importance of checking the accuracy and relevance of feedback with other stewards and stakeholders

The importance of checking the accuracy and relevance of feedback with other stewards and stakeholders is important on a number of levels, which can be broken down into the following rubric of equally important facets of a feedback-dynamic:

- Verification of information - verification ensures that the feedback received is accurate and reliable, which precipitates into a cross-referencing feedback loop with multiple sourcing of (potentially) the same information being reinforced to confirm the validity of observations that prevents the dissemination of misinformation (equivalent to journalistic standards).
- Comprehensive Understanding - comprehension invokes a gathering of different perspectives regarding the same situation, leading toward a diverse range of viewpoints, which in turn provides a more comprehensive understanding of events, behaviours, challenges - contributing to a “democratic” structuring of a signifying point of view that can be understood by more parties involved, or even parties not involved.
- Identification of Patterns - identifying patterns or recurring issues - consistency in giving feedback from multiple sources highlights areas that may require improvement from oversight or neglect - to better target interventions.
- Enhance Reliability - this ensures that there is a building of confidence in the reliability of feedback, when consistent feedback is obtained from multiple stewards and stakeholders: there is an enchantment of credibility and trustworthiness of information as a “canvas of plagiarism” provides a coincidental-reliability-bias of consistency: i.e. more than one person gives proof of the same insight.
- Quality Assurance - this invokes a quality feedback - a collaborative (coincidental-reliability-bias should therefore be reinterpreted as: collaborative-“bias”) verification helps to filter out subjective or biased opinions, which contributes to a better grasp of an objective an accurate assessment of feedback.
- Consistency of Communication - checking feedback with others promotes consistent communication, ensuring that all stewards are aligned in their understanding of events and expectations, fostering a cohesive and unified approach to the tasks at hand.
- Accountability, Systematic Identification of Recurring Issues, Clarification - as if borrowing from a thesaurus playbook - entrusting others with information regarding the same incident from multiple perspectives gives room to enshrine cross-verification to encourage stewards to take their roles and responsibilities seriously, fostering a culture of responsibility - systematisation ensures that given enough experience, stewards no longer have to be nannied into their roles but can become autonomous extensions of a supervisor’s role in minding several observational posts in human form - an organic C.C.T.V. operational system with an in-depth observational experience, which is a reinforcement of scope and potential of dealing with problems that the seemingly detached control room operatives are not inclined to entertain; in short - a dialectical approach of confronting disparaging accounts, opinions, filters out any potential obfuscation or outright falsehood.

Outline different ways of encouraging the stewards to provide both positive and negative feedback on the event and arrangements

Both positive and negative feedback is essential in that: positive feedback can be celebrated while negative feedback can be reflected upon, therefore learned from, making the two indistinguishable (however) is a failsafe approach that creates a way to establish: encouragement-in-itself of giving both and not ensuring that stewards are not bothered about distinguishing the positive from the negative. If, however, the negative implies an intra- / inter- problem with regards to staffing dynamics, an anonymous method done so in a written format should be made available by a dropbox - where people are not impeded from giving their opinion - which is not to imply that an opinion can be a rumour and not 100% factual - therefore in such instances cross-referencing should be invoked. As such, private conversations with regards to giving negative feedback about how staff found it difficult to work together should be encouraged rather than in a collective debriefing session with all staff members being present, yet if the overall staff performance was seen in a negative light, everyone should be addressed as if they were accountable: even though they might not have been, yet this at least doesn’t single out individuals that provided the most negative results, since these individuals are already known to either supervisors or managers. Yet to reiterate, ensuring that stewards see both the positives and the negatives as indistinguishable, ensures that both types of feedbacks can be given - since rarely will there only be negative feedback, as in that stereotypical citation: ‘do you want to hear the good news or the bad news, first?’ Both are necessary. Another crucial way to encourage stewards to give both positive and negative feedback is to instil in them a sense of accountability and responsibility, ownership of their experiences - insisting that it is absolutely necessary for managers and supervisors to know whether or not their work environment is safe from abuse - stewards should know that, like other places of work, whether that be a supermarket or an medical centre (there are even posters insisting that abuse of staff is not permitted with such posters showing a doctor, subsequently a police officer a judge and a prison guard) - stewards should not be subjected to abuse where other areas of work do not permit abuse of staff; negative feedback must be encouraged so that preventative measures can be implemented in the future, this also ensures that stewards feel safe so that they in return can provide spectators with safety and security. (Positive feedback is therefore, merely complimentary, yet nonetheless important, as a pick-me-up).

Describe effective leadership and motivational skills

Effective leadership and motivational skills are essential in fostering a positive and productive work environment. In no particular order, since pretty much all the following skills are equally important, a supervisor should have the following qualities (in terms of leadership):
- Being a strategic thinker - someone who sets a clear direction for a team and thinks strategically about long-term goals inspires a sense of purpose and direction, aligning team efforts toward a common outcome.
- Communication proficiency - a supervisor ought to be able to communicate clearly, concisely - actively listening to team members and adapts communication styles to different team members, which enhances understanding, fosters collaboration and builds trust among team members.
- Decision-making / Problem-solving - a supervisor ought to make informed decisions, considering alternatives should they be necessary and does not have a problem addressing challenges effectively, which impacts the team by building confidence of each individual member ensuring that problems are resolved quickly, giving a team more focus to consider solving issues down the line.
- Empathy - an empathetic supervisor understands and considers the emotions of team members, demonstrating emotional intelligence, which fosters a supportive culture, strengthens relationships and showcases genuine care for the well-being of individuals.
- Delegation - the more a competent supervisor is the more effective his skill at delegating tasks for a team based on team members’ strengths and developmental needs, which in turn empowers team members, promotes skill development and optimises the overall team performance.
- Accountability - an accountable supervisor takes responsibility for outcomes, both in successes and failures since a supervisor is responsible for team members, any shortcomings are his responsibility and he / she will have to be accountable for any poor performance, this in turn builds trust and sets a positive example by encouraging a culture of accountability for all team members.
- Leading by example - a supervisor who leads by example by setting high standards of work ethic in turn models the behaviour expected from team members.
- Conflict resolution - effective supervisors should be able to address conflicts constructively, facilitating resolution and maintaining a positive team dynamic, which in turn ought to reduce tension, promote collaboration and ensures a harmonious working environment - needless to, conflicts can arise not only between staff and spectators but also between colleagues, which can be more dangerous, since a conflicting team is ineffective at the job.

In terms of motivational skills there also several key elements to employ:
- Recognition and Appreciation - recognising and appreciating individual and team achievements boosts morale, encourages a continued effort and reinforces positive behaviour.
Providing challenges - assigning challenging tasks that might stretch an individual’s capabilities stimulates personal growth and fosters a sense of achievement while also maintaining interest in the work (enthusiasm).
- Promoting autonomy - this might actually be one of the most crucial aspects of motivation - by giving team members autonomy to make decisions with their areas of responsibility boots confidence, increases job satisfaction and fosters a sense of ownership of authority and a supervisor-to-team-member sense of trust and loyalty as it provides proof that they are trusted enough to not have to be constantly reminded that they might not be doing the job correctly - that they can own their work and do not have to be nannied, rather: allowed to work by themselves and as part of a team.

Nota bene: in my experience, it is also worth noting that when I was still only a steward, some supervisors did not even take the time to learn the names of each of their staff members, this sort of depersonalisation did not win such supervisors any favours, rather it fostered resentment at being treated like an “it” - from experience I have learned that once a personal bond is established with each individual team member, that they are spoken to directly, their names are used and a confident eye-contact is present throughout - even if after a team briefing a miniature individual briefing is conducted, it fosters a closer bond that makes working with people more effective and dare I say: pleasant. This little detail, of knowing each team member’s name is crucial - after all: to anyone’s identity, since chances are spectators will not ask for a staff members’ name (and are not expected to do so), therefore spending an entire day dealing with impersonal spectators referring to staff members with the use of pronouns - addressing staff by their names fosters a shared atmosphere of being able to be address by spectators impersonally.

perhaps i could complain about my name,
but then i heard no complaints from
someone like Adam about only being endowed
with one vowel like to like
and two consonants -
i could complain about not being named Phones
or Phanes - or Phinus -
i rather imagine the two omicrons to
be like the eyes i peer through
at the iota trapped standing up in my third eye
of mind

the S to account for Asclepios
      and the N as the striding posture of Horus...
hell... modern times allowed for Lacanian
algebra... the phallus...
i have my own algebra...
i never thought i could have invented my own
algebra...
how philosophy and thought disparage...
given how much thought is not invested
in philosophy...

the Key (I) and keyhole (O)...
which returns me to the opening of keyhole
and door (Ω) through the added incision
of Ó                     how i might
turn to my twin-imaginary-self
of becoming Θανoς -
    
     by morphing the attraction of ascribing
an alpha to a theta rather than retaining
the omicron of my initial phi...

sigh: how the surd p was integrated
into      Ψ ( Υυ) upsilon...
       sigh-co-logic... (p)seudo-
                          
                            Δε(α)Θ.  (death)

if there is any confusion: A(dam), E(ve),
                                     I(sa), O(ma) and U(rus)...

well it's not confusing anymore given
the algebra of the motto of the one who uttered
i'm the Alpha and the Omega...

i must concede, for upkeeping sake...
i harvest the alpha and the beta
and the consequences of the linear projection
later jumbled up into words like
one might be an atom later a snail
later a man later a speaking higher vanguard
that's humanoid
since no longer relying on the anti-history
of Darwinism...
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2017
there's a fundamental flaw in establishing
a caliphate these days,
what the modern caliphate failed to
recognise is man's insatiable hunger for
music,
        personally, i distrust all people
who treat music as if a carpenter's
working on wood carving...
     can't trust these people,
as much as not being able to trust people
who attempt a "janissary" conversion...
i can't trust them...
  but music, that's as bad as taking
away the onomatopoeia of ******...
             the failure of the caliphate,
the weakness of having "established" it,
resides in the love of music...
you **** that off, you **** off the adhan
principle,
last time i checked the adhans were sang....
how will you recite an an adhan,
goebbels sprechen?
                   i sometimes weep over an
adhan, because it enforces emotion far greater
than either the christmas carols,
or the monkish efforts:
and i could be the perfect janissary,
            because i'm sick of the culture
i live in... i'm beyond sick: i'm just
tired of celebrating homosexuality,
and the psychiatric condition of being transgender...
i'm just tired...
                but the caliphate nonetheless
contradicts itself... certain aspects
require singing!
  and if the caliphate abolishes all forms
of music, it also abolishes the adhan!
                     should have thought about
that al-baghdadi...
     no singing adhan, no islam,
       how can you make singing the ahdan
haram, deaf or something?
            and your caliphate has about
10% of arabic fluency, the rest speak english
with arabic with a "white widow" broken
sprech...
                   you trying to prevent music
is not an elvis moment,
  i'd ask any muslim: you ever been
to a catholic mass, when the creed is
recited?
        ever been?
i've been to the regent mosque, and liked it,
mind you, almost every time
i talked to a muslim: the feeling
of conversation, soon turned into
a feeling of conversion...
   so, go on, murmur your little adhan...
******, don't sing it!
    no music allowed!
       but then again the adhan is supposed
to be sung... no! not in the caliphate!
so music! only birds sing!
        ironic, the failures of the caliphate
came about when the powers at be
didn't respect the element of musicology...
given that islam rests upon an auxiliary pillar
of music,
    and if the adhan was not sung,
because the caliphate was a *****-slave
of wahhabism (dajjal investment
by ibn saud) - well then...
                 can't sing, can't dance... and certainly
without an incentive to pray...
         can't celebrate beauty...
  and by god, the islamic adhan overpowers
every man who was lost in the confines
of templar chants...
               every, single, time...
but no... no music, no adhan...
           they should make a pop song
from da-esh: ****** cocked,
         over-thrilled by *** slaves -
           never sand the adhan,
spoke it like a true catholic commune
in satanic murmuring credo;
                           killed the music,
  things were bound to fall apart...
it's only once ever so often that man is
satiated by raindrops on a roof for actual drums...
  the caliphate failed because the adhan
became contradictory,
in that it ought to have been sung,
but with all songs haram... it became undermined
by a quasi catholicism of satanic murmuring
of the credo;
there's that, and then there's the torture
of iraqis by american soldiers blasting
slayer's music 24h...
    ****, i fall asleep to that music,
then again, i do prefer horror movie soundtracks,
with a tinge of romance...
       thrash metal is too
amphetamine for me sometimes...
   die kalifat ignoriert die prinzip aus die adhan
in zensieren alle musik
;
the caliphate ignored the principle of the adhan,
in censoring all music.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2017
it's vaguely odd, to make this kind
of observation,
but have you ever squinted your
eye (with the other closed)
when looking at the moon?
well, with the sun, when you squint
your eye in a similar fashion,
your eyelashes almost seem to turn
to water, if not tears,
they become soaked in light,
that almost resembles water tricklets...
but with the moon?
ah, bountiful luna
   (in other languages,
the moon is male, the sun, female,
but in english, it's the other way
round);
it is only a day since a full moon,
and i'm drinking my ***
and feeling "bored",
so i turn my attention to
the moon, a day shy from fullness...
and you know?
  squinting my eye, i see a fraction
of the sum of the orb,
and as i do, a distinct ray of light
enters my body, just
above the eye, the forehead;
my eye still has the orb intact,
but there's a distinct ray of light
heading into the area just above
my eye...
as if: illuminating,
or clarifying...
   hocus pocus sort of dynamic
this observation has managed
to produce, but it's there,
when you squint your eye when
looking at the moon,
a direct beam of light enters via
your forehead,
it doesn't travel directly into your
eye,
        rather, just above it...
a licking aspect of a
     better-late-than-never "bend".
just an innocent observation,
and furthermore,
you tilt your head from side to side,
the same beam of light moves
with your observant eye...
   i find it fascinating,
how much of science is depicted by
only the dynamic of polyphemus
(the cyclops) -
   now, in islamic myths
this cyclops, the dajjal is one-eyed,
hence islam will clearly
testify that western science is...
metaphorically speaking: the dajjal.
i'm not so sure,
i already identified the dajjal
from the hadiths...
  muhammad spoke of the
east... given a compass...
    what's east of mecca?
   riyadh...
and when he said: he will be the scourge
upon the earth,
he didn't imply a poor person...
and he said his right eye would
be bulging, like a grape...
and he would be the worst curse
to befall a nation...
looks to me, that saudi arabia
is becoming more and more
decadent, isolated,
enigmatic even, why?
   it's ashamed of the youth
it has produced, it's: petrified!
who is this "enigmatic" dajjal?
ibn-saud...
   ibn-jabba-the-arab more like...
******* arab diabetics:
no no, alcohol is haram!
sugar iz good! hav' a baklava!
go **** yourself, give me
a sand-timer you *******
camel jockey.
   there was once a "thing" called
the iron, curtain...
seems to me, we're living in times
of the sand, curtain...
  i really don't want to think
about the *****-whipping ***-cracks
of men living in these sand-dune
cities that: resemble the most pristine
apocalyptic visions of:
                                     FAIL!
ah, don't bother, start building
these babylon-esque towers on
antarctica... then you can pet some
penguins while you're at it!
come on, you can't have any other
animal in tux serving drinks...
a cheetah in tux? what are you
talking about?
               see, the english didn't pick up
on this, no one i know, or don't know
has spoken about the isolationism
of saudi arabia...
   lawrence of arabia is long gone
along with the: "evil" turk...
       great biography too...
but the sand curtain is there...
    there's nothing special happening
under it... it's like a babushka doll,
but whenever you open one up after another,
the niqab is still there...
        i wish the russian thought
up an islamic babushka doll...
  **** it: let's start with a burqa,
then a niqab... nearing the end we get
a thong and then the garden of eden *****...
i don't have the money to make this:
go ahead, like my idea, made a babushka
doll like that: you'll be... minted!
yeah i know, i'm sometimes like
a forrest gump, i like ping-pong and
i play-along with being innocently dumb...
i was born with the idea of money
as being nothing more than a comparison
to counting pebbles,
given that western "intellectuals"
bark against prostitutes...
     i've given myself to sparingly
whiff off a few grand, here & there,
because...
   if ****'s not broken,
                      why buy a replacement?
saudi arabia is, though, playing an
isolationist game for reasons you might
not suspect...
  hence the hadith quote,
   hence the sand curtain:
the older generations are ashamed
of the offspring they produced,
and their european slavic ***** *** ******...
that's good, i don't mind jerking
off... i can focus on my drinking...
   and yes, i've been to prostitutes,
and every time i get a kiss and she says:
no no no, it's against the rules,
but i still do, and get that girly
wish i was 16 giggle... well...
             grease me another frying pan:
i'm about to make a killer curry;
alter-ego talk...
matta al-britanni?
    got sent to the wrong place,
overshot the ******, sent him to goa,
to cook curries for white tourists...
seems pretty happy to me...
   better not tell him he's not supposed
to be there... like any ******:
   happy when being given a newspaper
to rip in nicely folded rectangles:
i knew one robbie... no pair of scissors
could beat him:
as they say - 'ere by v'ah grease of good:
rubby rubby, chubby chubby,
and out pops a screaming plum's head
mmm' ha ha:
rubby rubby, chubby chubby,
that's a good 'un, dash ah keepour:
talk to an amsterdam prozzie,
she'll tell you the linguo choke,
i mean: joke.
- where was i?
  oh, my, god! you know when you write
something, and keep writing something,
and you're like: girlfriend, you're gonna
blush...
   and it hits you, and it's, like: amnesia?
it's called the cut-up flux technique,
well, it's hardly a technique,
it's not the cabaret voltaire scene
to be honest...
    you don't think up a plot,
the plot thinks up itself,
   you... move along, you... move along,
but amnesia is a great technique
to focus on...
                  god, sometimes i wish
i was yoda japanese:

     squint the eye, you will,
     moon, apparent be seen,
     beam of light
        hit your forehead, it will.

and that's all it was going to be...
     but obviously the european ramble had to take
place, and involve much more,
than the recipe for ink had in store
for me, with the already twice mentioned
observation;
bad luck, hopefully better, next time.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2018
to have conscience,
is to, not exactly have an
unwavering nerve...
from then tetragrammaton:
i didn't ask the semites!
the serpent didn't wind
it's labyrinth around a pine,
but around a tree
that mirrored its siamese
splinter of Y:
each tree akin to the schlangzunge,
apart from then pine
and palm...
    and to my ignorance...
Y with a 45° convergence...
to the root, the muddle,
and the unearthed lie...
         literalism of the poetic
work of the book of genesis,
a poetic Gobi...
            death prior to god,
death of metaphor,
and now, the "humble"
journalistic "fact"...
                came the compass and
i and had I to rewrite
the divine, blind Milton
led me through, and to spice
up purgatory...
for all the heavens to coincide,
hell is what man invested it,
however librating nirvana
was to keep,
such squandered tongues
readied for the pulpit...
the cake question,
no chicken prior the egg dynamism
of res omni,
                   partaking
in res per se jacks...
sorry,  rigid vocabulary...
                       Y of the oak
Y of th3 serpent...
    craft the immortal graffiti:
apparently,  it boiled down to
expressing "ΛV"...
   come the orszak of semites...
how do you spot a Sunni
stupid enough to call
the ancient Egyptian civilisation
semitic?
    an Egyptian with
a phallus limp and a
                        tongue *****....
how you spot the advent of Ali...
Sunni Muslims have 5 pillars,
oddly enough Sh'ite Muslims have...
6...
      taqiya being then:
mind you... far from Saudi whiskey
came the Afghan sandstorm
and resin from Landays...
it was never about literally 6, on the 6th
day, and the 7th that spawned
man's thought
and godly entertainment...
hardly a claim for a free will,
when unearthing the shackles
of conscience,
         excuses from a dehydrated
amylglandala are nill...
   if the Koran was a blessing...
the oil...
                     mmm...
           even if the Saudi king
employed 1000 Moroccan Sheikhs,
and 10,000 hafiz...
              ΛV:
   like a high-semite might, hide
the vowels...
                    consonants
became bricks,
    vowels became cement...
    Oedipus and Electra...
the so-called love...
                     ******* vowel hide-n-seek...
A E I O U pentagrammaton
    within the tet'
             and the Aegeian Sea
weighing turmoil up in turmoil,
the battered coast of Rhodes...
spaghetti curls of
the Mediterranean raven hair...
pillow, and eyes earning
an escape into the pearl sands,
having promised to **** the Graeae
sisters, having blinded the eye...
and the reward?
a tongue as phallus
and the double edged sword of
conversation, made piquant
in the mandible sigma pose...
wrapped around
       the tree splinter the split
king serpent tongue...
      multiplying confusion
rather than adding to it...
since repeated via the "original"
sin of plagiarism...
          taqiya is a Persian invention...
which, the sand ******* /
camel jockeys have little
knowledge of praciting with, tact...
oops is the genear
paraphrase...
      since when is Farsi scribbled into
little Tehran in...
oh wait, you didn't hear the one
about ibn-Saud, did you,
within the confines of
the capital from the east, Riyadh...
   right eye poking out
like any diabetic might see
a sugar cube...
                            little Tehran in
Dubai...
             ha ha...
                                    as if!
                   in latin script...
a serpent tongue split and multipled
clinging to a tree in a Y shared
replica.    
hard to speak of a free will,
when hindered by conscience,
or in oriental terms,
the grandeur of honour...
self-invasive, as conscience is...
   thesaurus, philologists' stone...
apparently all misunderstandings
of exfoliating with misnomer
applicability, reside in
synonyms, alias: proximity collateral.
Najwa Kareem Jun 26
Gaza, almighty Gaza
where are you
to the wind
have you returned

Gaza, almighty Gaza
Will you be our next bird
to fly us up again
or down to underneath the ground
where bodies lay flat

Gaza, almighty Gaza
where are the shades of the earth
with you
they sparkle
refusing to stop shining

Gaza, almighty Gaza
your limbs with bones like the worlds
our hands like yours, his, and hers
cockroaches aren't what we see
when we see plain, beautiful human anatomy

Gaza, almighty Gaza
thoughts of you
fill our hearts
with tears
and sweat

Gaza, almighty Gaza
we love you so
we lament
that you have helped us to see
what we couldn't see before

Gaza, almighty Gaza
keep everybody in the town and outside of it
knowing each other
walking together
working in unity
resisting as one

Gaza, almighty Gaza
run, run, run
faster and better than
your palm trees' leaves dancing to the sunlight's tease

Gaza, almighty Gaza
go knock on Baital Al Haram's door
to ask it to knock on your Al-Aqsa door
so its worshippers and occupants and the globe's will be set free

Gaza, almighty Gaza
we let you down
but now are we
on the right track
what did you say

Gaza, almighty Gaza
the guy, the security guard in Target
I think like you said
we need to strategize, be proactive
not just blacks coming together
or some from this group coming together
or some others here and there

Gaza, almighty Gaza
what did you say
the guy, the security guard in Target
everyone or many from all over the world
need to come together
and all of us work and strategize

Gaza, almighty Gaza
what did you say
Your words remind me of Mecca in what we know as Saudi Arabia
you know it, yeh, talks even about it in the news in the past few days
where people from all over the world congregate
for the pilgrimage
but its colonized

Gaza, almighty Gaza
what did you say
You sound like
the Quranic scholar, Imam Asi
he reminded us of what GOD'S last and final Prophet prioritized and did
Liberate Mecca
Mecca is the heart and the soul of the Muslims,
of the oppressed people of the world

Gaza, almighty Gaza
what did you say
do what the best human did for all humans
turn to Mecca
turn to Medina
turn towards The Kaaba
turn to Masjid Al-Nabawi

Gaza, almighty Gaza
what did you say
Liberate Mecca
from the confiscation of Bani Saud
from the corrupt power centers
internally and externally

Gaza, almighty Gaza
what did you say
Liberate Mecca
when we become the moving parts of Mecca
nation state barriers and boundaries
are going to go
colonialism, imperialism, fascism, racism
and their destruction and poison
will go
will harm us no more

Gaza, almighty Gaza
your horrific pains and startling cries
will lift us up again
and like a mountain's roar
we'll go wild
to end injustice and oppression
to manifest freedom and peace

Gaza, almighty Gaza
we'll go wild
listening to our Highest Priority, GOD
listening to His Final Prophet and Messenger
listening to our world's people
and listening to you

By: Najwa Kareem
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9VSzfiRWWh4

1601 11-28-2023 Latest Developments In Palestine

"...I know that all of us, I hope is focused on what has happened in THE HOLY LAND. There's a genocide that has been unfolding, in progress the past several weeks now. And all of us have our own source of information, I'm sure. We've been watching or listening to those who are involved in all of this and as I've remarked before and I will repeat, the best source of information that anyone can have about what is developing in the world today is information that comes to us from ALLAH SUBHANNA HU WA TA 'ALA and we happen to be living in real time the meanings of the AYAT and I know I've visited these AYAT before but sometimes, they need more explanation and sometimes, some of you were not tuned in to these explanations so I will try as much as possible to expand the meanings of these AYAT and the beginning of SURAT BANI ISRAEL otherwise known as SURATUL ISRA, THE 17TH SURA OF THE QURAN. As a background...because these AYAT were not revealed in a vacuum; these AYAT were not meant to be theoretical, cold, conceptual, mental constructs. These AYAT were meant to be integrated into the movement, the activities, the action, and the decisions of men or societies, peoples, and populations...this is what is meant by the revelation of these AYAT. So let us try to revisit THE CONTEXT which is most important to understand how these AYAT are speaking to us about what is happening today. These AYATS begin by ALLAH SUBHANNA HU WA TA 'ALA saying..."

"...So, we should ask ourselves, if he knew that, then why did he not emphasize and prioritize those other powers beyond MECCA who were instigating against the PROPHET?

WHY DID HE KEEP HIS FOCUS ON MECCA?

Today's world, similar things are happening. There are other forces at work outside of our let's say Islamic countries that are supporting those who have power in our Islamic countries to try to finish us off rendering us the Muslims of the world without self-determination. They didn't want the Prophet to have an Islamic determination, and they don't want us to have an Islamic determination.

So, what do we do here? If the PROPHET (PBUH and those who were and are with him)...If he kept his efforts, concentrated on liberating Mecca, on dealing with the threat in Mecca, then if we say we are following the Prophet, why are we not doing the same thing? Today, the powers that be, they want to scatter our attention, and they want to divide our resolution, our willpower. These Ayats were revealed in that context, similar to today. So, the question is do we concentrate, and they were, look, let me be, let me break this down even more. There was a Yahudi power center in al-Medina. There was a Yahudi power center in Khyber. There was a Yahudi power center in Al-Quds, in The Holy Land, in the North. There was a Yahudi presence in Yemen. There was a Byzantine power center in the Levant. There was a Persian power center in what is called today the Persian Gulf area or Iraq. And all of these were not friendly to this Islamic divine spark of willpower in MECCA. ALL OF THEM WERE HOSTILE; ALL OF THEM. So, if that was the case and as we see today - You can correspond today with fourteen centuries ago...look at the powers around. So, the question is why have we departed from the methodology of the PROPHET, and we don't concentrate any longer on liberating MECCA? MECCA IS THE HEART AND THE SOUL OF THE MUSLIMS, OF THE OPPRESSED PEOPLE IN THE WORLD - ONCE WE DUST OFF ALL OF THE TRADITIONS AND ALL OF THE COBWEBS THAT HAVE BUILT UP THROUGHOUT THE CENTURIES; ONCE WE'RE FINISH WITH THAT TASK, WE WILL DISCOVER MECCA TO BE OUR MOTIVATION. TO BE OUR REFERENCE. TO BE OUR CENTER. TO BE OUR DIRECTION. TO BE OUR STARTING POINT. TO BE OUR ENGINE. THAT'S WHAT MECCA, AL-KAABA, AND AL-BAIT AL-HARAM ARE ALL ABOUT. BUT NO, IN TODAY'S WORLD, THE CONCENTRATION IS ON, BY AND LARGE, LIBERATING PALESTINE. AND I DON'T WANT ANYONE TO MISUNDERSTAND ME HERE AND SAY THAT I'M TRYING TO DEESCALATE THE ATTENTION FROM LIBERATING PALESTINE. THAT WOULD BE LIKE SAYING THAT THE PROPHET (MAY ALLAH'S PEACE AND BLESSINGS BE UPON HIM) WAS CONSIDERING THE POWER PRESENCE OF YAHUD IN MEDINA TO BE MARGINAL OR SHOULDN'T PAY ATTENTION TO THAT. HE KNEW FULL WELL AS WE SHOULD KNOW FULL WELL THAT THOSE WHO ARE IN CONTROL OF MECCA TODAY ARE SUPPORTED BY THE SUPER AND REGIONAL POWERS OF THAT AREA, THE SAME WAY THE SUPER AND REGIONAL POWERS 14 CENTURIES AGO WERE IN SUPPORT OF THE MUSHRIKS AT THAT TIME. IF THIS CANNOT COME CRYSTAL CLEAR IN OUR MIND, WE ARE GOING TO CONTINUE TO MAKE MANY MISTAKES AND LEARN THROUGH TRAIL AND ERROR UNTIL WE REACH THIS CONCLUSION IN THE DEPTHS OF OUR HEARTS AND IN THE RADIATION OF OUR THOUGHTS..."

"Yes, that's an important question and to answer it in a few minutes, the Islamic movements in the world theoretically have their vision focused in the right direction, generally speaking, and the Islamic self-determination that has been in progress, the Islamic country of Iran for the past 40 plus years, these are the places that have more or less, I mean these are not, you know, angels, we are all human beings, and there are slips here and there but more or less, they have a sense of what has to be done. From my humble, as I have explained in the past hour, my humble opinion is...whether it concerns the Islamic movements in the world or The Islamic State in Iran, my humble opinion is they have not concentrated their efforts on the issue of MECCA. Of course, all of us agree, the AYAT in THE QURAN (there are other AYAT in THE QURAN) that speak about the DIVINE RIGHT of any of those who are being oppressed anywhere in the world to fight back that oppression, and injustice, and tyranny. (QURAN read). The Palestinians have a right to fight back and to defeat those type of enemies that they are dealing with. Those who are in Kashmir have the right to fight back and deal with the type of enemies that they have. Such is the case with other Muslims all around the world. No one has any right or any say when it comes to their legitimate action against their basically genocidal enemies, but we don't want this type of immediate, emotional entanglement to refocus our attention away from MECCA. What is happening in Gaza and has been happening for the past almost month and ½...what's been happening there, coming on 2 months...WHAT'S BEEN HAPPENING THERE SHOULD HAVE CONCENTRATED THE MINDS AND THE ATTENTION OF THE MUSLIMS ON MECCA. What are these? Not one of these rulers when they have all of this petroleum...Imagine if they just come to say, Look, if there's 100 more deaths in Gaza (this should have been said the first week) before now 15 to 16,000 who have died in this bombardment. In the first week, after the first 100 deaths in Gaza, they should have said, After every 100 deaths, there's going to be 1 million barrels of oil cut off. And you would have seen the response. BUT THEY CAN'T SAY THAT...THE ROYALS IN ARABIA, ALL OF THEM, AND THE RULERS IN OTHER COUNTRIES THAT HAVE THESE NATURAL RESOURCES, THEY CAN'T SAY THAT BECAUSE THEY DON'T BELONG TO THEIR OWN PEOPLE. THEY BELONG TO THEIR SPONSORS, AND THEY BELONG TO THEIR MANAGERS IN THE NORTHERN HEMISPHERE, TO THE ZIONISTS AND IMPERIALISTS. THAT'S WHO THEY BELONG TO. THAT'S WHY THEY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING. IF THEY WERE INDEPENDENT...IF THEY WERE TO SAY...DID THE PROPHET (MAY ALLAH'S PEACE AND BLESSINGS BE UPON HIM) SAY, WAIT A MINUTE, THERE'S TWO SUPERPOWERS IN THE WORLD - TO DEAL WITH ONE SUPERPOWER, WE HAVE TO ALIGN OURSELVES WITH ANOTHER SUPERPOWER. IS THAT WHAT HE DID? CAN WE JUST MANAGE TO BUILD ENOUGH CONFIDENCE IN OURSELVES? ARE WE DUMMIES? ARE WE HALF-HUMANS? ARE WE INCAPABLE? ARE WE HANDICAPPED? ARE WE LESS THAN WHAT ALLAH SUBHANNA WA TA 'ALA EXPECTS US TO BE? I SEE ALL OF THIS UNFOLDING, HAPPENING IN FRONT OF US AND NO ONE'S FOCUSING ON THEIR ATTENTION ON GETTING RID OF THESE PEOPLE WHO HAVE CONFISCATED MECCA AND AL-MADINAH. WE'RE NOT DOING THIS BECAUSE WE HAVE A GRUDGE. I DON'T KNOW ANY OF THOSE PEOPLE PERSONALLY WHO ARE IN CONTROL OF THE AL-HARAMAIN ASHARIFAIN. I DON'T KNOW ANY OF THEM. BUT WE'RE LOOKING AT WHAT THE PROPHET DID AND THAT'S WHAT HE DID. LET'S NOT BE BLINDSIDED BY THEM WEARING ROBES...BY THE WAY THEY WEAR ROBES FOR CAMERAS WHEN THEY'RE IN THEIR OWN COUNTRIES AND THEN WHEN THEY GO TO EUROPE AND OTHER PLACES, THEY HAVE 3 PIECE SUIT AND THE NECK TIES AND ALL OF THIS STUFF. ARE WE DECEIVED BY THIS? I MEAN, YOU KNOW, JUST AAH, SURFACE DEEP...WE CAN ONLY SEE PEOPLE BY THEIR APPEARANCES? WE CAN'T PENETRATE AND JUDGE THEM BY THEIR DECISIONS AND BY THEIR POLICIES?..."

"Yes, social media, Al hamdulilah, that's one thing we have to say has made it possible for those who control information to be put in their place. Social media has cornered the mainstream media to a very large extent, and people all around the world, we've seen this in the past couple of months, people all around the world are breaking away from the mainstream media..."

"...So, materialism on the one hand among these groupies in the world and sectarianism on the other hand, that particular area, and MECCA right now is enjoying the confiscation of Bani Saud that has been going on for the past century. Confiscation; they've confiscated MECCA...no one's able to address this issue when there are 2 billion Muslims who are...they're not rationally reaching this conclusion - if they did, I wouldn't be giving this presentation but deep down emotionally, they are yearning for the day when MECCA IS FREE. No, this thing is...Look. Look. If. Let me put it this way. Let's say we liberated Palestine; Insha Allah, it's going to be Iiberated. I don't have any doubt about that. Liberated Palestine. How about all of the other Muslim issues in the world? You take the Muslims, the Rohingya Muslims. You take the Muslims in China. You take the Muslims in Russia. You take the Muslims as minority communities around the world. You take the Muslims in Kashmir. You take the Muslims in India. You take the Muslims in the Philippines. You take the Muslims in Thailand. You take Muslims all over the place. You take all of that...What do you think is going to happen? When we liberate Palestine. So, you think, Oh, everything is done. You say, Ah, now we've accomplished everything and we're on our way to freedom and independence and everything. No. It's not going to work that way. Actually, if that happens to a lot of...if these people stay in control, these illegitimate rulers stay in control in Muslim countries and stay there, they're going to say, You see, we liberated Palestine...We have no more problems. It's done; finished. That's what happens. That's what will happen. And we can't permit that to happen. So, the first step in the right direction is accurate information, proper knowledge, contextualization of the information that has come to us from ALLAH and the teachings of HIS PROPHET..."

"...When MECCA disappeared as a base for Muslims, as a reference for Muslims, as a pacesetter for Muslims...When MECCA disappeared, then all of a sudden, we had all of these nation states imposed on us. The Euro-American centuries intruded into our lands via colonialism, and imperialism, and Zionism, and they imposed on us these nation states. That was done. Remember, that was done. When MECCA was not sidelined, we didn't have...A Muslim could go anywhere in the Muslim realm without, you know, having to show a passport or an identity card or anything. A Muslim wanted to travel from Jakarta...He wanted to go to MECCA, he didn't need any permission. He didn't need any visa. If he had the wherewithal, if he had, you know, whatever it takes...if he was in good health and he had the money to spend, he could go to MECCA, and he could come back. He could live in MECCA if he wanted. That's how MECCA was. MECCA was a melting *** of the Muslims of the world because there were no such things as these nation state barriers. And thus, will be the case, when MECCA is repositioned. MECCA, itself is just, you know, a geography. It's US. When WE become the moving parts of MECCA, then all of these boundaries are going to go. The political boundaries. Economic boundaries. Now, when it comes to languages, and races, and colors, and you know, these things. (QURAN read). From ALLAH's demonstration of HIS prevalent power is the differences that we have in language and in colors...that's, you know, the will of ALLAH in which we were born. Those are going to stay with us, but they're not going to be divisive. No one's going to be discriminated against because they were born into a certain language group or because they were born with a certain skin color. When MECCA becomes MECCA, that's gonna go. It won't exist any longer, but now, that, you know, they've reduced MECCA to, you know, a Muslim has to go through a course of procedures to be able...at the end, if he's lucky, he can make it to MECCA to go to... Where did it come from that any Muslim in the world needs permission to go to MECCA? That itself tells you something is wrong; I, a Muslim - I need permission to go to MECCA? You got to be kidding me! What's going on?! Where did this...How did this happen?”

"So that people cannot express their aspirations by watching what is unfolding in the real world. We have people who are very evil. Evil is a real thing in the world. You know, they said, 7.10 was like 911 which means that what happened in Gaza is similar to what happened in New York. And we knew what happened in New York brought about two major, among other things, two major wars, in Afghanistan and in Iraq. That happened in the aftermath of 911. What are we going to expect to happen in the aftermath of 7.10 in the world?! I think in the past, yesterday and today, some high ranking Yahudi officials are here in Washington, D.C. They’re discussing stuff. They don’t come here just to talk small stuff. But whatever they have, ALLAH IS THE BEST OF PLANNERS, and Insha Allah, you know, there will be a breakthrough, and we will see, eventually, the Muslims of the world will see that the ruling classes of the world belong to each other and the peoples of the world belong to each other. The ruling classes are not united because of their religion or their ideology. They are united because of their tyranny and oppression and so the peoples of the world should be united by their suffering and do away with the oligarchs and the tyrannical ruling classes all around."

-IMAM MUHAMMAD AL-ASI
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2020
please! i need this reiterated!
what's so wrong with "subjectivity"?
is that a feminine trait?
is the "masculine", "suddenly"
fizzying out like
a soft-drink infused with
carbon dioxide: the breath of the dying
composed of bubble?

what is a spem ******* into
a tissue? a genocide?
what is a ***** *******
into a female?
the next jesus christ...
the abortion scrambled egg?!

at what point to i disown...
disavow the coming
of the Serbs slaughtering the Ottoman
muslims in former yugoslavia?

i ******* into a tissue...
i disown i disavow...
hello the vatican mafia
of: why not simply cut my ***** off
like i'm the third *****
gas chamber conscript...
because the new wave dodos
are about to flock, settle down...

when the ***** is mine...
but when a woman comes
into contact with it...
vampires... aren't they simply romances
told of familial relations
associated with lepers...
aren't vampires the sort
to breed a.i.d.s. -
that lost acronym...

aren't vampires the romance
associated with a blood-disease?!
romance... my ***...
call him either hey-zeus or bat-fixation-allam...
jesus and balaam...
two donkey riddles among
horses... and broken spines... of the jockeys...

   acne... an excess of my body producing
too many white blood cells..
right, major major....
understood! standing uptight and on
privy!
i have mushroom of these dead
white blood cells pouring
out of my ****** pores
            (when squeezed or forced
under a pincer of the nails seeing
not manicure)...
like belzeebub taking a ****
with readily available eager maggots!

mosquitos i'd **** for fun...
flies? i'm rather bothered with my new
faith: the plethora of doubt...
faith should never become
the antonym: negation...
islam abhors the unbelievers...
un- is a negation...
non- is a doubt...
islam should pardon those in doubt
as it embraces those
"with faith"...

   i doubt because... i've seen all
the other cul de sacs of expressing an anchor
to an already sinking ship...

the arabs do not like the turks...
last time i heard, from that random...
lawrence... the camel jockeys abhor
the turks... after all... the quran came unto
the arabs... as did the oil...
the turks are the lesser nomads...
kazakhs... or that other rugga-muffin tribe
from the belly of hunger that's
siberia... the tundra hinterland...
not exactly a saharan fata morgana...

i like doubt to be:
the combined negativity of emotions
with: how can one conjure a positivity
of thought? how can anyone even genesis
a binary of thought?
does... a non-binary of *** even "work"?
i also like doubt to be:
the motive for cogito per se -
it's an open and the end:
scenario of words...

             turk is the primo muslim...
heard the arab...
said wha'?!    the turk was to dwarf the arab?
what about all that sunni and sh'ite islam
debacle?
clearly it's not merely an iranian "terminology"
lost to xerxes beating the waves
of Thermopylae...

the man thus... i guess i must also be...
no... back in the day only men were literate...
i was also inclined to be a favourite
of the spoon and fork...
i must be a woman to write!
i must be a woman to write!
as was Horace prone!
               as was Dante prone!
****'s expressio! muschi alles das ist!

wasn't an immediacy of schism apparent?
the persians would not bow before
some arabs - even with their now apparent
gold... these camel jockeys...

nor a turk... in a suit... a muslim is a turk
or some dirt mongol -
the lament of baghdad?!
no wonder the persians would deem
themselves...
protestant or catholic?
i don't think it matters...
we're still waiting for the one true monotheism
to reach Lebanon and the protestant guise...
the catholic primates of Tehran...
and the orthodox ball-crushing origins
of a Mehdi in waiting come...
Mecca under ibn-Saud...

            look to the east...
what is east of Mecca? Riyadh...
                                such are my eclectic concerns...
a turk a muslim...
unless of course...
       some **** entered the notre-dame de paris...
left undistrubed...
like mehmed II... entering the hagia sophia...
almost immediately wishing
to contract building a replica...

  whatever the name is / was...

for all their riches beneath the sand...
their yachts... boredom from wealth
is a fickle bedroom demon to tame...
    sooner or later... Moldova laments:
why are we not part of Romania
and not given st. petersburg's window
into the world: with an access to the seas?!

why do egyptians or any north africans
need to be invoked in this affair is beyond me...
well... the moors...
i once knew a people that made pyramids
by ******* into the sand
having retained hope for mountains
by having ivory moulds to replica
that sort of ambitions...

the pyramid is the never before seen
mountain... among the dunes...
what is a desert? what a mountain range looks like...
if you have... the sort of dodo patience
necessary...
genesis *** ape? really? that's it?
i can look further afield than:
just becomes it looks similar to man...
just because...
you stated the categories...
a whale is a mammal!
                  
           and, thus, somewhow,
coming back to time via journalism?
seriously?!

                    i'm out of "it" quiet literally without
any constraints of consentual time ref.:
consensual...
                   what the **** happened to:
i consent to?
                  
again: what's wrong with subjectivity?
am i not assured being: being subjected to something...
don't i have to be: a priori: subject to "it"...
before i can be: a posteriori: objective about it?
what's with all this, modern,
objection to subjectivity "sensibility"?

on the basis of objectivity per se...
sorry... no...
you have to be subjected to algebra-A...
before you can spew retrogade objectivity algebra-B...
for no greater purpose other than
to peacock on the "logic" spectrum...
first comes subjectivity... of being subjected to...
then... only then comes the desired
objectivity... you can only be objective...
a posteriori... when you have been subjected...
a priori to "it": as ever... always the most elusive "it"...

subjectivity is "b'aaah... b'aaah bad"...
objectivity is: cul de sac "logistics" of perfecting
gwam-ar... or grammar: in velsh...

but how can you become objective / be, objective...
if you haven't been the / a... subject of...
something to... object to...
subjectivity is the terra firma...
and it tends to "hide" when coming across
a non-schizoid non-bicameral
non-bilingual... binary...
                           to harvest objectivity...
i guess you first need to be subjected to...
what you'll later object to...

in the safety of an "objective" 1 + 1 = 2...
is the subjective a priori...
and the objective a posteriori?
well... no... or no: i hope...
i hope but i can't hope...
since i was so ******* naive...
          
             nonetheless... this suppossed superiority
of objectivity over subjectivity...
binary in some circles...
                zeitnahsprechen...
berliner: schwer-auf knifflig-stück...
         do i look like a ******* gypsy-king
diet-prone on solely: makrone?
looking for alcholics among the arabs...
and... caffeine and sugar addicted norwegians, too?

objectivity: alles gut!
beginning from... where?
   nothing requiring you being subjected to:
in order to object to a furthering recurrence?
even a crow listens in on what i type...
he has to be the sole insomnia prone
bird in this vill-age...
unless of course... hoarding odin is listening...
and that wasn't just any crow...
it was...      ᛗᚢᚾᛁᚾᚾ...

to hell with ᚻᚢᚷᛁᚾᚾ...
         i'm with my memory... somewhere else...
and it's certainly not a seat
in... playing role... for some cameo cinema
outtake!

there we go... a croaking in the night...
mind you... you always have a pornographic
seat of viewing pigeons trying to procreate...
right before your eyes...
hard to spot one crow courting another
crow in ned (yes, not need)...
of a desperado ****...
                pigeons just love voyeurs...
crows: still remember the mother woods...

and will not: **** or pretend to **** in
public... pigeons on the other hand?
**** anywhere **** anything that moves...

so much for a new or nuanced god...
iconoclasm drifter...
like C is supposed to represent
the half-lit moon of death's harmonica
played into the whistling scythe...
or some other wordly load of *******.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
because all the narratives are slipping...
once upon a time...
once upon.... there was a time...
and people had their lives...
huddled: bonded...
spoke to the fire...
teased a shadow drunk on a night-out
not returning with a one-night-stand
****-budy...
teased a shadow drunk:
for a handshake that would
become a classical: greek... wrestling...
the advent of judo...
sort of... hey there!
         i'm bored of the lies...
             i'm actually more than merely
bored: i'm numbed...
here's to! fishing for: the last covenant
of nazis...
just today...
i was watching the odessa file... 1974...
jo(h)n voi(gh)t...
                             even though...
****... this... **** that...
a people so... "conquered":
brought together...
                 what speaking of land...
to be conquered...
             yes: fishing for nazis...
scouting for them too...
the diaspora finally congregated...
i have to... feed into feeling...
an itch of...
the bother... should...
the words of: Balaam the Diviner...
              i guess i am a "diviner"...
i sentence each word with:
please! spare... this land this...
whatever it might be...
    of which i am... "exiled" from...
i keep the mothertongue in the shadow...
rhaspodic...
         we had affairs in the shadows:
when we wrote...
not much fun... when all the rotting
woodworks are busying themselves
with evixction notices for the:
karaluchy - cockroaches...
              
   two or three words:
   the original advent for the pursuit
of life... hell... that almost feels like
feeding ten piglets!

the black lives protests were just
an interlude...
the attack in reading with three dead:
you keep a libyan hound
on a leash for long enough...
collateral damage...
     of the union to oust Gaddafi...
i would never be a fan of anyone...
so... gifted in exfoliation of attire...
but then again:
fishing for nazis... without...
their... signature... hugo boss...
uniforms...
          who dressed these "neos"
in forgetable... attire?
   uncorked a bottle of champagne
when figuring out...
the new innovation of what was
once: the radio...

i.e. make them... wear...
forgetable... attire...
       some grey suit...
     but... of course the but!
   they can't succumb to the eccentricity
of... wearing the same ****...
over and over again:
the trick would still be played...
that they might...
for themselves: of course...
and have the clothes washed
and primed for re-use...
like back in school...

                  i could swear to have clicked
on my usual ctrl + c / + p...
wikipedia.com...
   for the ц: not being on the keyboard...
by "magic fingers" and all the more
a "magic will"... redirected to...
russlandjournal.de/en/...
    
          ah... "surds"... "signs"...
      like...                 the g-nome...
                           the g-nostic...
                                  otherwise: some variation
of... diaGnostics...
                             my own little...
bless the veil of inconvenience...

my little escapism: well it's fresh...
it's not a newspapers' opinion column...
when journalism was something
noble...
          it's fresh and it's...
how did i abandon finishing Dicken's
   the Pickwick Papers?
                      to have to glue the ridge...
that page turning skeleton...
it is... after all...
an edition from the 19th century...
i want to finish it...
but i dare say... if i did...
the binding would not retain its:
intactness...

                  so... are we still
scouting and fishing for nazis?
the romanced old baddies?
      the ones that would... somehow...
agitate the arab world post 1945
in shady dealings...
how... the diaspora would finally
congregate...
and a people could be robbed
of their land...
an israel...

        but the... diaspora didn't...
"finally" congregate... a sceptical bunch
of kippah kaddish qabbalah scientists...
ibn saud and the myth of the dajjal...
by god: the arabs would never drink...
impossible... camel jockeys that they:
were... are...
so... sugar-frenzy!  
                 they do like their sweets...
and sexed-up juices of trickle
phlegm from the harem of harems of:
****** olives and ******...
                      grapes...

            hell... wouldn't it be just nice...
to see someone... donning a ******* with
pride... for... open-range practice?
but these's days...
it's all a game of... so... who's who?

arab playboys or new-money beijing
shrimp whittle-wichard squirt: a squint
on the altar of lemon-C... some minor
vitamin deity...

                  narratives: all shrapnel...
    all existential "complications"...
have... honest to "god"...
become... constipations...
and the best of these are in england...
what with the school of...
that aesthetic...
  aesthetic-of-curating-hierarchical-norms-/-standards-/-expectations...
i was looking for a word...
a german hyphenated centipede was born...

etiquette!
what was a "complication" came to be easily
served as... a constipation...
oh... and i've had my fair share of
those: wild adventures of Mr. Turdy...

was once: a not once upon a time: je(t)ц(t)цeit:
or the concept of abolishing a theory of gravity
and the great devauliton of a van gogh painting...
classical verbiage...
word salad of misnomers...
if they were only misnomers...

candly floss of stripped nuances...
the elder: a democrat...
"social distancing"
or the... grand revisionism /
revival of the feng shui...

igorant moi...
   feng shui: a geomancy...
...........................................
.........­...........................................
.................................
...............................­........
......................................................
.­..........................................

        (my my! and that is!
a schematic for...
a loitering... paragraph)...

   who among the porcelain folk...
tinged with...
       is to speak of chiromancy...
or... to treat the stars and their
constellations...
with... impertinent questions...
to salvage some sort of a remaining
whole: that some man lived...
that some man...
would be...

a zen parody... a zen anything:
anyone: anywhere...

      to proscribe a tao placebo:
is to live a taoist sickness...
to live "anything" and an "anytime"...
to be so conflated with the confines
of an immediacy: a heideggerian: dasein...
that there's a "there"...
sein... there are more connotations
being excavated from
the etymological "term": unwavering noun...
concerning being: a space...
a coordinate...
than there's... wild dreams!
annotations to subscribe to
a temporal fatalism... by that...
indeed... time...
                  fall of the: and gathered
knee of amen...

                bridal coup:
this.. laced fake sellers' poignancy...
the brightest of minds...
and the darkest of tongues...

i came to this posit: inquiring...
my last... salvaged futility...
and it had to become apparent...
i had to find myself:
unable to leisure...
for the eventuality of all eventualities...
the supper of languid:

the mushroom hijacked the brain
of ape...
              parody...
the tree imitated serpet in shedding
its core... of bark...
the elevation of answers...
via... the 1960s psychadelic
experimentation phaze...
              + + + +....
                                we had to...
acknowledge the gemini:
clone... and the brain subjected to...
the pickling jar...

            why wouldn't i partner
up with... the death closure dynamics...
verbiage...
yes... yes... because...
the sober are the sane:
no sight of dolly the prodded:
proud matriarch fo miles around!
b'ah b'ah...
   i sell my consonants
with an ambiguity of vowels...
every... chance... i... get...
to have to: and i have to...
divinate the tetragrammaton...
in the "H" the vowel-catcher...
phoneticism of the god of words...
and in the beginning...
easy "thing" to desecrate...
the hierogylphs...

   the 'ebrew god wouldn't...
desecrate... the roman alphabet...
wouldn't... desecrate the phonetic
encoding of the greeks...
cul de sac of "adventure"!
             i hear...
the litany of the gods of the conquering
hebrews!
the 'ebrew god... didn't...
conquer and...
the egyptian hieroglyphs... were...
conquered...
                  canninites... canine bark-alongs...
dog-whisperers...
            
the hebrew conquered...
           cuneiform...
                  scribble fancies of arabs...
the revenge of Keturah
the mother of Khadījah
this... inbreeding of violence...
old sway old...
                   new sway new...

             what cave... when working with...
sand?
i **** on it: perhaps...
there might arrive a castle...
i blow on it...
   sand come... sand go...
or... sand go... sand come...

the dehydrated mind is everyone's
new norm:
because: the cpllective said so?
never the sanity of the mandarins...
lie on top of of lie...
cherry-topped-up-with-lies...
but still...
a "forward vector"...

                but the hebrews...
couldn't erase the roman alphabet...
or the greek alphabet...
they... managed to hide the runes...
they best hid the glagolitic script...
but what good did that?
when the greek solved a revival of
the glagolitic script and served
up a palette for cyrillic?

ergo? the hebrew god failed...
the fate of the hebrew people...
with the 20th century...
as a zenith...
was also their nadir...
          the god of the word:
of phonetic encoding...
you can't... somehow...
stage a fake war...
when... the roman alphabet was
to be used... in computer: code...
encoding...
you can't... erase this progress!

  you couldn't with a hierogylphic owl...
so much... teasing...
did... the mandarin: your god:
your sanctity saviour: of what?
god of "gods" blush... shy away...
the hebrew phonetic letters...
posisted against the mandarin
octopus?
what is it? crude bollocking:
and a shard...
          a truly... ripe... "prophecy"...
solomon's harem
the envy of a newly bred...
muhammad...

          i asked the willow...
why it had to gimmicj wilting...
with a Y... as it always turbned...
not the willow... the oak...
sure as ****: not the birch of pine...
to leisure... aging...
by... leusuring a loss of...
skin... leather...

  easy target practice for the god
of the hebrews...
              somehow...
the numbers were also concerned...
for all the love of hiding your vowels...
like they might be
diacritical markers of "accent"...

          hello: pseudo-sand peoples...
4 (ה)...
                  that's as best as i can arrive
at...
kippah... kaddish... qabbalah and lot...
a people: a country...
not worth invading...
a... diaspora... a people...
not worth displacing back:
into a congregation of:
"nationhood"...
if only... israel...
and there came...
the paupers of the vatican...

   i guess... i guess:
i'm not guessing... the returns policy
of that... parody of a clan...

a diet of diatribe...
  how can the hebrew alphabet claim...
superiority...
over the roman or the greek...
alphabet...
     "alphabet": phonetic encoding...
when... the greek moved into the theoretical
constants of science...
and roman... remained: instilled...
    for "phonetic" questions...
  
hebrew: proto-writing...
        i would wait... for hebrew to fail...
when being... dashed...
forged... upon the wave...
crashing onto the caverns of seafront
mandarin!

            to retain some of these letters:
as numbers...
is enough...
            but sorry no sorry...
        ktav ashuri...
   the hebrew god... jealous and proud...
the norse gods... bended their knee...
and became invisibly: doubly apparent...
from Runes unto Rome....
finally! a phonetic encoding system...
that... the hebrews...
couldn't perfect:
or find themselves ar superior odds to...

40 years became 2000 years...
a slow decay i.q. lesson
culminating in the denotated rubric of:
auschwitz... sorry... sorry told...
you can't... treat...
the proto-italian perfection...
like it's some... *******...
hieroglyphic! like it some...
proto-borrowed... syriac / cuneiform!
sand-****** kippah-u.f.o.!

savvy? no savvy? we can have
this argument going... on and on!
it's not like...
  i have care for the crude...
it's not like people are going
to return to the cafe or subject...
they'd hope... themselves
to a live maggot and concert...

you can't... you can't...
perfect what's already perfect
in latin with hebrew...
the music! the music!
     a cul de sac war project of ******* whipping!
which is all the need for
a circumcision!
added
of a worth of a niqab!
...
   i'm starting to think that... the kippah...
is a side-project for...
investing in solar-panels...
honest to god: no joke...
it's like the hebrews are being bribed...
and bribed: auschwitz nutz truez...

     because... the hebrew phonetic encoding...
system of x-ray letters...
can... will... somehow...
get rid of the latin...
   they couldn't get rid of the greek...
when greek became cyrillic...
useful idiots... and a laughing god.

my former respect has become...
a... shambo: a ****-pit...
shambles: exact!

         i always hoped to... keep my...
pretty.... toes... to the last.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2019
aphrodite's child
four horsemen

shiver...
running from my
feet,
toward my
left cranium...

rotting christ
               four horsemen;

capirote...
as some would like
to stage
it to be: ku ku klux...
the nazgûl
                      9 / 4...
forward the fiktion...

i'm talking to
mushroom people...
you know,
when a ******
person talks to a drunk...
and...
  the conversation
soon turns to ridicule?
i.e. with what
two drunks talk about?

and how...
the same stoners
will revel in...
outside the realm lof
conversation,
resorting to games
outside the realm
of chess,
sudoku,
        or mahjong?

  you didn't teach me spain,
the spain taught me
what was within
the "gravity" of the reconquista...

but i thought...
that jihad...
was not a tactic for conquest...
rather:
   a tactic for reclaiming...
then?

  who,
                            are,

                                   you?

disability-pay-check
misnomers...
         arabian diabetics....
sugar frenzy...
    
you know what
the prophet Muhammad
said of the
current, House of Saud...
he said:
he would come from
the east,
  and reign: in the house...
of gardens...
   Riyadh...

  it's constantly stressed:
came, from
the east...

what is east of Mecca?
Riyadh...
  isn't it?
   we're talking
about intra-nationalism,
not inter-nationalism...

  i have no need to
base my squirm of interest,
in arabic affairs...
the polish *****
can have their sway,
i am here,
for the pebbles,
and the height
of a mountain...

  Muhammad said:
what is east of Mecca?
Riyadh...                  

  ku klux ****...
   and the spanish: capirote...

to speak this tongue
among the arabs,
who would readily
invest
in the evil personified
via a foreign tongue.

i halve myself,
to heave, forth,
the current
    dileberation.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2018
/some call it the past-particible, id est: i-ran... the persian would never bow to a sand-******, camel-jockey, arab; such fascination with the immediacy of a schism... better still: i ran and ran and ran, and there was no running involved... the better stressor? e-ran; and the west "thinks" it's decadent... not so much the people who built via bangladeshi blood-shed and tear and sweat, that... flickering glass shard, in the middle of a dessert?! wow... hard to compete with such decadence! as any **** muslim will see: hard not to see the dajjal, of what is east of mecca, i.e. riyadh... i might be a drinker... but i eat responsibly... unlike that glutton ibn saud... that diabolical diabetic fatso'h. oh look who's knocking! cuckoo! cuckoo! because the cuckoo never leaves an artefact, signature, in the form of echo; skim-reading outside the cave./

why is it, than anything, besides
moby ****,
was worth mentioning
herman melville?
  or why the crow
is the only artefact, winged,
that suggest a hunchback?
clever pecking i might add.
no, i didn't read the ****
masterpiece,
         the brothers karamazov
stole one summer
    hanging *****
                in a torture
chamber of a plataeau, flat,
on my grandparent's balcony...
shame, considering
the english,
   so adamant in securing
a garden,
             but rarely visiting it,
as i collected the sugar mush of
the vine for the brew,
     rarely, seeing an englishman
enjoying his garden,
rarely, seeing an englishman
enjoying his garden...
         better equipped
with domino high-rise,
the englishman would be better-off
owning the simple space
allowance equated to a balcony.
i know why:
            per-chance he might
finally take to reviving a pleasure
from reading:
the englishman:
  oh, what a tired man he has
become;
         extracting
         the in vivo from america,
blaming it on integrated
  scots with blondi combovers...
       ever hear the joke
about how copper-wire was invented?
two scots, pulling a 2 pence coin
"apart".
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
/                early lindsay ellis
videos?

             **** me...

that subtle... exposure of skin like it
                                 might be canvas?

do you paint with
your lips, or your phallus?
can't exactly posit slobbery of tongue
or an oyster...

   mind you:
   davie attenborough
never explained how
an oyster managed to
hoister a shell over itself...

or how a snail managed
a snail shell...

  borrowed link in the "mussing" chain of
"command"?

   **** the ape to human
narrative...
i'm more bewildered by
how...
              footballers
in qatar will drop like flies...
or so i hope...
because how can,
a...
        non-liver, non-kidney,
non-stomach,
yet somehow "brain",
acquire an "exoskeleton"
couch of a... the hell it
actually is... that's isn't
king saud...
           or: i-raq or rabbi
                                        arabia...

it's an oyster!
                      how does something,
without a "brain"
that's simultanoeusly both
brain, both liver, both everything else,
muster the capacity
for a "skeleton"... to enclose it?

  space exploration?!
how about, the fish in the sea,
in the oceans, in the:
         marred moon landing
imagination?
        
lindsay ellis' make-up tutorial
                     (if ever)...
bloom lips,
            like looking
at someone eating as rasberry...

who said men said anything
about **** movies?
  are that dumb to not allow ourselves
classical ****** of the static,
picture form of reference,
to then allow our imagination
go wild, deviant of a pornographic
movie?

     guess i've been dumb all along...
**** movies are idiotic "to begin with"...
and all those artists painted nudes
of women, while they ****** and
pretended
there was no ****** at hand?

**** might be made by men,
but it's primarily intended for women...
like a harem colony of
what a walrus might call: turf...

**** is the modern form of
the ultra *****, the castrato,
                    bait for the "beta" male...
it's what harems consist of,
bored women, nonetheless caged
within the confines of a harem,
attempting a bothersome escapism...
    
it's not that i'm even jealous...
*** = exercise...
                                 i'm looking
for much more than ****** motivation...
a tongue of a woman,
to be attached to the absence of
coherent "thought" in my mind...

but since there is no "competition"
to suspend such a thought:
   **** and pillage, hey **! hey **!
thus the seven daft dwarfs alongside
a hunchback shadow of a man.
Safana Feb 2022
Where white strike the green
Where desert blown up to sky
Where mountains are up high
Where heroes remain alive
Where truth is everywhere
Where cubs, are the sons of lion
Where lion is the king of lions
Where the date trees are hugely
Where energy is on and offshore
Where there's social infrastructures
Where there is two Sacred Home
Where there is true heritage
Where there is king of the Kingdom
And the Crown Prince and the Kingdom
Where there is happiness on faces
Where no masses but riches dwelling
Where everyone is sufficient to live
Where it is a Kingdom of Saud Arabia
Saudi Arabia
🇸🇦🇸🇦🇸🇦🇸🇦🇸🇦
Ryan O'Leary Jul 2018
Petro, gold and fear.

The lions share of
liquid truffles buried
  beneath the sand
   dunes of Saud.

    Yeah a men
    Yeah a men
    Yeah a men

  Yemen Yemen.

   Allah Loo Ya
      brothers

  Let the Sunni
      storm in,

     because

  We don’t give
   two Houthis

About the Shia

We Wahhabi Rich.
Ryan O'Leary Jun 2018
Sands of an hourglass
     heaped and flowed

     Hands together in
         loud applaud

      Blindfold day, but
      genuflect to night

     Sceptre and sword
   o’er the head of Saud.
and to earth: i sing in the night of a body-electric:

   poised to silence and laughter
and meditation

imagining being banished:
to the realm without music:
imagining a world without
music

or who taught man of music
was he who also taught
man about engineering and fire?

i ask banished in this silence
wishing i could return
to the bed and music and thrills
of conversation
with body and you:

                somehow the distance doesn't
scar me
and the day began with just a beer
and a microdosage of marijuana
while doing the garden trimming
only three three trees to trim
but a relaxing afternoon
with mother
                       and conversation and the attic
and thinking about giving
vintage summer dresses to Edie and Reyla

how i adore the peace and quiet
in the night
in the day
but the moon of the night
how sweet was my laughter:
thinking i could be reunited
and be a body with a body
not just a body with a mind

stillness ensured
and a mosquito flew onto my sweaty
forehead:
sat there: i didn't bother to slap
this little creature into non-existence...
so i just let him sit there on my forehead
and drink the good stuff
my blood...

                after all what is a mosquito pinch
needle:
when i am prone to curl my sleeves
and shorts
and rush into nettles
rubbing my skin
then lying in bed thinking this is some ancient
medicine or modern homeopathy
but it's the latter:

thinking about ibn Saud ibn Kibsi asked me
about mosquito bites and i said
spirit vinegar rub...
            can't get spirit vinegar except in
Polish delicatessens...
but nettles are worse
and the remedy is water and soap
nothing more
but lying burnt like that with nettle venom
in my skin:
then this little mosquito just had his fill
and flew off into the night...
hard for me to **** a fly too...

so if there is a Lord of the Flies: Beelzebub Bob
then there must be a Lord of Mosquito(s)

a "Soukon": sokuon:
an author on a hill
サッカ
                       丘

  not sure about Japanese
prepositions)                           - Soukonsokuon
a contending name

   so i thought about the forbidden fruit of
cannibalism
whether that was the original "apple"
that so desperate only two people remained
and were reduced to having to eat
man's flesh: an gained knowledge of good
and evil

after all was it not a strange fruit
of wine and bread
that was given to us upon the anti-tree-of-knowledge
torture: crux...
was not another "serpent" been sacrificed?
well at least now i hear whispers
and rumors of people becoming seriously
interested in the cryptic gospels that
go beyond the canonical straitjacket of
Sunday's Intellectualism...

           a strange fruit of pressed fermented grapes
    and pressed wheat shafts pressed
to the puff of flour: dusty and his nunnery of dusties...
or at least the other talk from
dating scene:

i'm getting strange looks at work from
coworkers
and i'm not even paranoid
the day i moved up from a static team
even if it was a static team of bag searchers
and wands
the SIA
                   then it was still only a static position
but the moment i advanced to
being a TEAM LEADER
  (no longer the tedious title of SUPERVISOR
no longer printed on my back) -
      RESPONSE TEAM LEADER
just me and four guys
and i could swear i'm being experimented with
because each time i'm given a completely
different team to take care of
while others get their same staff
am i being probed to see
what span and scope of people i can actually
figure out
            enough for the sake of optics:
compliance - the seriousness of earning money
i can't believe how serious the matter
is when it comes to earning money
rather than living in a world where money
earns money:

that seems like such an inauthentic positive plateau
and no longer a authentic positive *****
something missing in terms of
whether Sisyphus would have to roll the stone
up...
or whether he were to roll the stone round
and round in a velodrome....

                                hardly able to imagine
generating money from my scribbles though...
generating money from my scribbles
would probably pain me most...

               if i didn't have a serious job on the side
perhaps money could come
in later age when i might need it
but probably not so much now
i think too much money would be a headache
that i wouldn't have the genius
anti-headache of investing interests:
to be actually interested in money
is not my "thing": although money in terms of
earnings, use, freedoms, constrictions:
that is more a case for not philosophizing
with a hammer but with a coin...
then moving onto philosophizing with
a ring...
a bit like Sauron - yes the child in me is still
referencing literature as i go along
today i read Walt Whitman high a little high
and i thought: my the simpler the language
the more fluid it becomes
and i have to give due credit to old Walt...

                                 Miss Monique: the dogs
barked in the night owning its
guardianship to ward the death critters from
entering dreams as death angrily loitered
                            while a star was giving divination
of itself
while the tree was giving divination of itself
    while man too: but slightly over-divination
leading to confusion:
    a blunder of nutrition by a deity's constipation...

and now onto preparing dinner
al fresco
and the conundrum concerning the English
and how much they bemoan the garden
should they not have one
but still they need that garden
and they have the garden
and seldom use it
having a BBQ is like some holiday event
where meat is doubly butchered
and not many vegetables are eaten
or fruits in salads
but bemoaning this need for garden
but spend so little time in it!
regardless i have yet to see a proper al fresco
culture around me come summer
where people might want to cook and eat
outside
of the stuffiness of the houses...
now overheating in the summer chaos my god
the Arctic Winds of May were a downer
but a Month when I was born...

                 maybe missing some vitamin B12?
thinking about going on a vegetarian diet
in the summer months
yesterday made haloumi with capers and walnuts
and drizzle of honey
then a simple courgette drizzled with olive oil
coarse black pepper
and some Himalayan Black Salt...
            and salads with pineapple and chilies
fresh coriander...
and my favorite:

sumac
       strawberries
cucumbers
   olive oil
honey
     balsamic vinegar
red onions...
                  banger!

yes: i think i'm going to go vegeratian
in the summer months each year
because that pork sausage tasted awfully
after all that joy of cheese and vegetables
i seriously find meat abhorrent in summer
i think as a people we could wonder
at a diet based upon seasonality:
you wouldn't eat a horse
in summer for his toil and help
you wouldn't eat a cow
in summer for its milk - regardless whether
in winter:
but once upon a time our diets were seasonal
and somehow
i'm thinking maybe an imitation: a return
to something old from Europe:
like not eating meat in summer
because it would go off quickly when slaughtered...
Al Qaeda was created by the C.I.A., in their offices in Washington D.C. According to Richard Clark in his most recent book. It was created for Saudi Arabia to bankroll Osama bin Laden, through the House of Saud, "in the Afghan war against the Soviet Union during the 1980's and Riyadh and Washington together contributed an estimated $3.5 billion to the mujahideen.

— The End —