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Left Foot Poet Nov 2017
The Allusionists (Mary Winslow and Jeff Steir)

these two allusionists  **(not illusionists!)


composition is a criminal sentencing, a full-time sensitizing,
a never ending t/rue seeing, recalling, photography by word.

I am a career criminal.  I know.

these two retranslate by digging into word wells and
well hid storage closets under stairs so that we,
the not-in-attendance may envision their sightings with
two hands clutching, comprehending almost better than
the one who is actually there.  

for our version, the one they provide is,
coffee with cream,
scotch with a  beer chaser, tea with honey,
all to be, sipped slow, so
the hot frost on my the chest, infiltrating nostrils,
Vaporub-spreads slow and easy, brainward.  

the allusionists.

the habitual employers of this
specific filter,
(word weavers, I call them behind their backs),
weaving is not in my eternally planned skill set.  

I do so admire their tapestries
that guilt alone demands tribute and obeisance
and this poor imitation.  

I do so admire their tapestries.
November 25, 2017. 11:07 AM.
Left Foot Poet Jan 2018
composition is a criminal sentencing,
a full-time sensitizing,
a never ending true~rue seeing,
recalling,  every photograph my eyes did see,
by word.

I am a career criminal.  I know.
nov. 29,2017
dpm Jan 2016
Some time ago I would have never thought
of how the sound of a voice
how the combination of words
can travel through a person's head
get to their blood type and
mix within its cells.
And now, every time i hear you talk
my body starts to ache
sensitizing my skin and
awakening those nerves
that were hidden underneath.
Sag Jul 2015
Strings of wisdom flow through my fingertips
like front-porch-swing storytelling.
The stars are visible through the window tops
as moon eyes stare up at their sisters.

The truth is,
I could listen to you ramble for hours in the backseat of that car.
I listened to you ramble for hours,
just to hear every thought and pun and "but like"
that escaped your once clenched teeth and locked lips,
and after prying open your brain, my jaw was left ajar
in awe of the reality that a shy girl with seafoam eyes
could ever open mine that wide
in such a short amount of time.

The truth is,
I want to dig my hands into your thoughts and pull up roots from the dirt and find that I've got a green thumb.
I want to climb the tallest mountain in Tennessee and have your smile welcome and invite me into your home.
I want to watch your children grow older and want themselves as a mother like their mother did when she wasn't much older.
I want to hear every flirtatious remark dangling from that bracelet of yours clink together as you lift your chai latte from the counter.
I want to question what the time of day is
and wait for your mind to create a clever counter-clockwise comeback that throws mine for a loop and sends me spiraling back down to earth
on the dials of the sun and the mills of the wind.
I want to stop and read every spray-painted sentence on each step of the stairs leading to the perfect amalgamation of essays and creative journals, and analyze the way your cursive gets lazy and then cleans itself up while maintaining an enlightened tone.
I want to venture into abandoned shacks in the middle of the night that are hardly recognizable two seasons later just to find out that it's the wrong house and the open windows mean someone may be home.
I want to see the scribbled out "sandwhich" corrected in red ink.
I want to drink your words and refill and recycle the bottle.
I want to blend the blacks and whites on the palette and create a shiny sensitizing zinc.
I want to be the one who genuinely understands the way you think.

The truth is,
I have this irrevocable desire to listen to music that no one else has ever heard in a pair of headphones until I find a harmony,
and then let it play on the radio for those of us with complexity
to sing to as we stare down the road of an alligator bayou
and become hypnotized by the beat.
there is a sense of fluency
in his visual metamorphoses
framed in a diaphanous red
that isolates a consciousness
yet at the same time allows a journey
to ultimate extremes
of perfected enhancement
of the higher realization
of unfulfilling limitations
he knows that he can never be free
like a name in an address book
written in blue ceramics
that provides the impulse
to sensitizing thought
to the silence that walls him in
spiraling back in second hand decibels
overloaded with the complex distribution
of metabolic need
forms contradictory impulses
an index of vulnerable and invulnerability
like the familiar dissimilarity in his eyes
Wuji Jun 2012
Realization through dehydration,
Sadness is so sensitizing!

When I own the sadness,
It's a depressing madness.

When I see sadness on your doorstep,
I couldn't be more glad you guys met!

Sadness is relative,
And is all one of our relatives.

We all share the feeling,
But on others it is peeling.

When I see it on some though,
I laugh till I know,

The sadness.
Can't help but laugh.
Yenson Jul 2019
See the TRUTH and shame the devil
Tell the truth and shame the devil
duplicity, chicanery, Machiavellian and being disingenuous
all have consequences that you will pay for eventually
You have ruined names, reputations, careers and a happy home
in what you lied is some revolution against 'Elitism'
when they truth is a racist mobbing of a successful black couple
who stood up to a thieving racist family and thus your racist war

Tell the truth and shame the devil
you and your mob of criminal gang-stalkers and fooled vigilantes
have framed, fabricated, manipulated, hounded and intimidated
gone through every insidious permutations of Gang-stalkers Manual
thinking I would have broken down or committed suicide by now
you taken an innocent couple, divided them and wrecked love
you've ruined careers, made me jobless, isolated me, spread poison

Tell the truth and shame the devil
you keep on fabricating lies to hide your evil deeds and manners
got unaware masses believing your framing and cover ups
after creating false and staged incidences and happenings
all done to keep stitching me up as you have always done
fooling people into believing they are gods controlling things
selling dummies to people and mugging their intelligence

Tell the truth and shame the devil
you racist bullies picking on a black man because he has no gang
because he is polished and calm, you assume he'll fall in no time
you diminish my strength, stoicism, by creating false reasons
my self-respect, self-assurance and self control you hinge on false
premises, inferring I can only maintain your enforced celibacy
because I am stripping women with my eyes or gaping at big *****

Tell the truth and shame the devil
You are racist criminals hell bent on silencing and destroying me
I am standing still cause I am innocent, confident, intelligent brave
I do not operate through the base instincts of people like you
who are governed by their simple minds and uninformed emotions
childish, immature, base, uncouth, crass indulgent, simplistic *****
your asinine attempts at manipulation or control is all a big con
on the masses who you have hood=winked from day one till now

Tell the truth and shame the devil
off-course you can not because you are all born liars and psychos
triggers, hinges, anchors, sensitizing, gas-lighting, hazing, softening, terrorizing, demoralizing, how long you have been at it,
I am still standing, I am not scared of low lives, **** and criminals
You can fool all the people some of the time and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.

                       Tell the truth and shame the devil
Tell the truth and shame the devil
                         Tell the truth and shame the devil
Tell the truth and shame the devil
In East London in England, in the poorer areas, they have a code of Silence, you dont talk, you dont see and you dont hear ' NOFINK ' And most importantly you do not stand up to a gang of crooks like a decent citizen and tell them you are going to expose them and you are not afraid of them. I did just that. I am paying the price cause I believe this is what a straight law-abiding person does and despite my ruination and everything, I will do exactly the same again. Better to die than be ruled in FEAR by some lowlife criminals. I told them to go get proper legit jobs and stop being a public disgrace, they replied I was to be sent to the University of Life for further training. The upshot is I am now in a concentration camp, I suppose that's to improve my concentration as they strip me of all basic human Rights and my Right to peace, Joy and Happiness and everything good . They haven't starved me though, I get copious amounts of reduced goods from the stores but absolutely nothing else, not even a hello, good-bye or even a basic 'thanks for your custom, only cold unfriendly stares, if not being harassed and taunted and lately some big ***** women standing in my way. Not very nice I tell you, what's the point, a pariah feeling **** is really like a fish needing a swimming costume and an inflatable fish.
You've gotta laugh................
a Feb 2020
?
Does the line of comfortability change due to culture? Can you handle less because maybe you did not handle more? Are you over sensitizing because I overheard? Telling me to watch the words I learned at a young age because Susies mom taught her kids those terms?

Do you only laugh at the people you enjoy? Respect the same of your own? Can you respect me even if you don't agree, I don't want to come at you, I don't think Im right but I don't think Im wrong. Agree to disagree simple to say it .

You tell me.... "I AM" part of the queer community as if I don't love a good ***** in the face.
You tell me WHO you are and assume who I am not.
I don't want to take away your voice, I don't disagree, I just wanna say mine too and how I feel....
Vessels  and Wine menus of the archaic formulas seemed from the new Universe that was approaching them vertiginously, concelebrating the unitary form of the union of the pilasters of the Opistódomos with Hellas , which was constituted as an inter-dimensional state, for two strategists universal and immortal that provided the beginning of a new Christic language, based on the relationship of the unified polis but with an infinite calendar perspective. The courage to start an end with a beginning full of excitement and celebration where clearly the dances would be from beginning to end to treasure the influences of endless complacency, and that would hold commemorative celebrations of station processes, being established fiercely in the treasuries of Metroon ; as a duplicated and bilocated agoras on Patmos, besieging all the documents of the glorious past of Mythology towards the new preservation of Submitology, where the people of heroes and anti-heroes of all the Pleiades come to life from the Vernarth transcript, as a multidimensional memorial archive housing in all the concerns of eternity written, and preserved tangible and intangible that would transport them to the annals of a sanctuary that would agree with the repositories of everything that was and will be of this Myth annex beyond a fantastic reality, going back to the Hellenisms that they will compose next to the Beit Hamikdash Temple, as a sacred mansion where the ceiling and the floor would rest in total communion. The dimensions will be given in the own open foot that will standardize the buttresses that would make up the access chambers to the privileged place of Rea, with dimensions that could be displayed in the confines of the inflection of Orion, naturally illuminating the vault of Greece in the head of the Agora and from there to Theoskéspasti, to then be triangulated with the Doric and Ionic colonnades specifying the Vernarth chamber, which will have its quantum progression and multidimensional link throughout the Archaic Hellas to all of Judea that will re-sanctify the possibilities that the heroes will parade eternally for the waters and lands that are proper to inertia, where Athena and Nike will make the pots with mead in the rejection of more miracles that will flow from Galilee to Patmos. The etymology would be of Hellenic customary avant-garde, evidencing realities where every day the peasants sharpened their sickles, as a feast that celebrated the first-rate courts with the first-grade olive oil with the Almazara or oil press that will bring the fruits of the table. The flapping of the pelicans would tie laudable sounds from the Thuellai worshiping the phonograms that were emitted from the Metroon, attracting the classical periods of the conformation of Greece when it was only Chaos and Seas in conflict. From this mythological proposition, everything was a reality where the lack of custom proved as a cultural character, it was the vertical cultural basting coined in the gloss of the signifier, rather than the meaning, leading everything to these festivities of edibles and drinkable towards the Panhellenic that it would bring new vigor of expansive territorial function, towards Macedonia and Delphi as a holiday that could celestially have more than twelve lunar months.

Meanwhile Vernarth was hugging a rattle more than two meters high and one in diameter, this resonance implied the inaugural sound of the Symposium of the Athletic Agon that together with the Almazara would run rials of oilseeds, to anoint the attendees as all Sacred of the jubilee of the Opistódomos and the Hamikdash, towards the new Submitological Era Duoversal between the events that will delight everything that concerns accompanying the pairings of liquids and solids in this competitive challenge, so that the mythical hero becomes the credible hero stationed in the ninth laurels that would make up the foundation and inauguration of the games, after the victory of those who never threw the victor's crown. The votive offerings and monuments joined the agonal journey that referred from the perspective of a soul that wanted to compete with its existential soul, and then reluctantly redirected itself through the unusual temples that seemed to vanish amid the crowds, making this festive ritual the greatest expression. of all the votive festivals in Patmia. In practice, the meals would once again be rewards for the support of the sky by the Matakis, as a snowy reflection in the pouch that does not display any icon other than a numismatist that sniffs the pieces of bronze that were surrounded by the other derivatives of the terminal of saturation of Zeus, seeming to identify that Matzoh would fall from the sky, and Manah that will highlight the laurel artifice when the conceptual of the sages give the beginning of the activities with a meta-praxis that will stand out from the full stomachs, and the bladders supplemented with oenological colors, eradicating physical competitions for those of the allegory of Dionysian pleasure that suggests a human and mythological hybridism, Submitological-supernatural. Everyone became restless and ran along the golden trails of the iridescent nimbus creating capacities to unfold the time of Kairos and at the same time re-inaugurating the feat of noble bread and the skills of collecting the green fords, where Persephone refrained from an illegitimate pressure by leaving the intellectual bulwarks for the destiny of the force that subtracts the will, but if it defines the feminine character that caresses the tongues of the soulless and they call us with the features of competing prostrate to a Goddess who worships the eternal shine of the wheat field that refers, and what makes the ibidem in the conferences of a hero who smacks the features of all the sculptures that will follow the cause of reason of the allegorical agoras and the competition where the meek will only toast when nobody sees them face inhibition itself of what is and is not.

What the languages uttered became shouted to sit near the inns and tables with dairy products and wines from which they all stood up with a cantiga in unison, ***** in the joy of being called to the Hellenic invitation to compete, to make dynamics and refer to physical skills assiduously to the constellations that made them awaken the intellectuals. The attributes of each one were a trigger to celebrate and laugh before the divinity of the new Age, along with the solemnity of Himation. This lasted twenty-eight days exchanging the full moons that would bring the shooting stars with boiled genetics that were forged from the Souvlaki prototype, and flashes that would take them to the symposium where the feasts were dimensions that surpassed the entire width of the galaxies, to praise and cheer the crowded Pleiad of assistants fully compete in the intelligentsia, before the various rituals and spells that were prepared with the consecration of the Symposium that would bring together Alpha and Omega, as a Semitic language that filtered through the iridescence nets that manifested from the Nimbus where they remained the vaporous entity of the Mashiach.

Vernarth imbibed, above all, a segment of space that allowed him to look without being distracted towards the height of the Nimbus, creating in the tract of languages that they wandered between Aramaic, Greek, and Hebrew, after that the extra-biblical witness Marzeah would designate in the liturgy of celebration of the Symposium, always noting that the allusive rhetorical conversations at the side of the Symposium meeting, understanding that they would become a brotherhood of tasters of the ethyl elixir, which would flow from the iridescent tract between seven iridescence that would translate into bittersweet solid foods and rolls with thyme from Kalymnos. The ingestion in two portions was lived from arm to arm in the jars of hand, reciprocal in the distractions that Vernarth made looking at the Nimbus, and offered him with his Khaire, promoting distraction and jumping over the dark clouds that were tinged with purple tones of the ethyl elixir, creating dance forms that revived the altruism of euphonic auditions that divined that the world could be all Wine and Matzoh, which was lavished on those who would not be excluded from the drinking of the sky that flowed as food from the fermented Hydor, alongside some concave stones with toasted chickpeas, fresh fruit, and Lepanto beans. Saint John blessed food considering that Eurydice, Circe, Medea, Hecate, and Walekiria would be incorporated into the festive Andron, although the feminine essence should be reserved for other stages of the solemn festival. The expositions of contentment were to have the vessels permanently facing the sky of the Nimbus, because from there holistic ethyl liquids would constantly fall that would shine with their deferred colors, sensitizing what the ear wanted to hear more than their collisions of Epichisis and Enócoes to pour and serve. in geometric ciboriums from Laconia. Vernarth would walk around the Profitis with Askos full of the essence of the Mashiach wine, which served them with the seven cosmic thoughts, thus frequenting the distractions for those who did not skimp on Apollo's delirium of dipsomania, distracted in Vernarth with the dancers of music by Hetera. Vernarth filled the glasses of all those who carried Guttus and Lecitos who relaxed and brought their Cretan flavors in the chirps of their pharynxes coming out from their mouths with verses that seemed the same as those of the Heterias, which the soldiers of the phalanx influenced the Small groups in a circle to applaud the gift and virtue of celebrating with improvised cheers, which in the bedrooms invited even the dissuasive shadows of their own evil that wanted to seep into the symposium. The afternoon was reinvented from the agora and the proscenium that attended for all from all the borders that would bring the storms of the ethyl nimbus, inviting new tides from the Aegean that would add to re-condense in the parasites that swarmed deserts with the rhythm of one night in all the borders and optics of the world, being able to be seen clearly and precisely to be reissued. The comedy of Dyonisius was present with all his court of Syracuse, and Dionisio was reiterated with Thespis and his supports that spelled ruffian verses between bitten, one being King the other being a God, sticking to his origin as a demigod in the feminine inheritance of a mortal, to come to serve in Cantharos to Dyonisius, where they roar in his mortal consciousness. The parasites bustled through the floodgates of intoxication that could be textualized and verbalized in the shrinking of colic, or perhaps boldly sitting on a tripod to imitate the Sybillas if they were to be supported by the effluvium of Alcyoneus, covering with snakes that they would carry potions in the wine glasses when representing the banquets that would falsify to be scenes of a feast, with the criterion of an over-relief.
Opistódomos Symposium
rubben Wainaina May 2018
We are the ghosts behind the nightmares,
we work hard to reach new pinnacles in life,
we put all we got between these lines
the struggles,the pain and emotions.
we never bow down,we know the art has to be perfect and delivery flawless.
Poetry is our language,art is our storyline.
we are the rhythm without the tone,
The twilight behind every dawn.
the unspoken heroes concealed behind a paper and a pen.
we convert the rage,feelings,love into something sensitizing...
something tangible and so real like the Orion in a silent night.
we are artists, the choreographers behind the scenes
we are the wondrous in every way.
We transist..  turn words to magic!
the gods of art.
we are,
Hello poetry!
Yenson Jul 2021
Oh look, our peasant folks are in control
talk of 'mass production' on assembly line
Henry Ford, rise from your grave and come see
division of Labour at illusory best
So what if its all in our heads minus minds
we have you know we make it up as we go along
we are so advanced we have turned a man into a computer
at least that what our Head Engineers (get the pun) tells us
so the HE says we know buttons to press
he says perception something is the key
that way we load data into his head
then we also have the audio loads
that way we also load data into computer man
and 'voila' he's programmed and we control him
HE Controllers says its about triggers and anchoring
sensitizing and some **** about flooding his mind
so computerman now operates on data
Apparently we have overridden his free will
and we have ceased his psyche and now owns him
you see its all about Artificial Intelligence
Since we are making up all these processes without concrete proofs
we are artificial
and we are intelligent because we believe in what we are doing
see, that's AI.....
and the power of Mass production'
Power to the peasants.....

hahaha hahaha  hahaha hahaha
that's computerman laughing, its part of his programming
Yenson May 2021
In our ivory control tower
we are moving the pieces around
triggering the neurons and aligning the morons
we are sensitizing and anchoring and so hypervigilance
we have time to listen to farting and wait monitoring movements
we have become preoccupied and obsessive laughing stocks
but we cannot stop our ridiculous drama of delusions
because we have said the majority always wins
our aim to **** up and do head in
mob rule and control is power
this covert racism is tedious
better to just kneel on his
****** regal neck
hahaha, if the idea is to **** by laughter.... I think it may be working. Do these loonies know nothing about Intelligence, emotional intelligence, maturity, positivity, discipline, balance, tolerance, humour and rising above *******.
Yenson Aug 2023
From their sources
all the hysterics, histronics, dramas and operas
from this view
nothing resonates, nothing is remotely evocative
nothing triggers nothing
the clone in their crosshairs
so far removed other than perhaps the mere physicalities
this was Chris and Joan's 'Truman Show'
sanity was and is never never a party to any of all this
and The Emperor's new Clothes meets Pin the Tail on the Donkey
and people are led down the garden path
who said 'you can#t fool all of the people all of the time'
and do you think crminals are sometimes called Racketeers
because they play Lawn Tennis, of course, Not
Anyways,
say what you like, but
at least our gangsters are nefariously adaptable
when Chris and Joan smeared their lies
they were sure the target would run away soon into the aftermath
who is going to brave Hell
he didn't run
and he faced Hell full on
So its his fault if we keep on making it up as we go along
the charade continues
its psyche warfare, its Neuro-linguistic programming
its perceptions Assualts, oh its Sensitizing, no its Anchoring
no, no, no try Haunting, how about just Bullying and Harassment
Whatever,
who will tell them they are fighting a clone
I just have a Front Row seat
and I'm munching Cashew nuts

— The End —