The fine art of saying things
And not saying them

Simultaneously.



SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 30, 2014

embroidery is your means of communication
sophistry is your way at edification
your veracity is a misrepresentation
rejection to you is manifestation
veiling your faults in meaninglessness
your poetics show your indecision
your own impulses have created an addiction
evasion from the truth has become your nightmare
affection turns to desolation after boredom sets in
your disconnection with happiness has always been
you float in a cycle built from the misfortune of your past
yet you wear your beauty and pride like a mask
one day your castle of fabrication will come crumbling down
and this time I wont be there to catch you
before you hit the ground

goodbye


© 2006 joshua deathdealer

I want an after dinner poem
Because they are so delicious
A poem on a pillow
And one after I do the dishes

I want a poem for breakfast
Cause they are so mentally nutritious

But most of all
I want you in my poetry
Because you are the best
Poem I could read

Form in figure fitting perfectly
Moving and talking to me
You are poetry in motion
You are artistry in thought
You are the queen of my desire
Because you make my poems
Shockingly hot

So write me a love poem
A poem of love lost
A poem of philosophy
Of such sweet sophistry
And what you have gained
And all that it cost

Give me a biographical picture
Or a nature walk

I want a poem
That is the truth of you
And in exchange
I will give you the poetry of names
And call you humanity

last night, the same woman from a previous night prior to last night, walking with shopping bags into an affluent area of the town, giving me the ultimate evil stare of all famous superstitions. the second time, last night, the same woman, the same diseased stare, and this poem - as a result of being impregnated with too much evil; call me superstitious, but not all witchery is softened by psychiatric reasoning and antidepressants.*

and then i hear of my parents meeting a friend of mine's father,
an "antique" dealer for the tourists
slander me for drinking too much and not glorifying marijuana
while insults were thrown like snowballs
before my mother and father entertaining guests from canada,
i talk a bit more with him in a pub a few weeks later,
he tells me of the topic of conspiracy to commit ******
with haemorrhage symptoms like nothing: but how do you know
he says; i offend him with courting: but how do you know
whether i'm telling the truth or lying? in silence.
i raise my hands upon parting, we part:
diana wanna hugs? no, diana wanna scrap metal.
his father made our friendship less by not including a monetary
exchange of power, i'd flex a bicep my way had i a necessary
drinking partner; but i don't: the chip man sold whole potatoes
deep fried in the shape of fabergé eggs... his father sold
traffic cones in the shape of trombones at a higher price, only
because all the buyers were tourists.
socrates was wrong though: poets are not rhetoricians
or sophists, what we are we are because we use rhetoric and sophistry
to insult people, trying to remain in tact: better that
with any army, we're more armadillo word-to-word than the hoplites
shield-to-shield; idiots never known an insult for a gimmick
unless a chess-precise knuckle is utilised on unchaining linkages;
but like the saxon i too, on the vibrant islands of celt and caramel,
the second wave of saxons came, the scot and irish celts worried
about lambs of isaac, but lessened their concerns
with the norman landing - so i too originated upon using
my tongue to a disadvantage, and it worked, for hastings and for all,
"lying" myself abrupt with a burp for the sparrow to ease lighter spacing
of the advantaged footstep.
we were poets, word-to-word tighter than the hoplites shield-to-shield
for what the gladiators called armadillos of a farm.
socrates didn't get it, since he reasoned: i to noun, equating it only
as questioning pro to the guise of inquiry, but among the native nobility of greece,
poetry survived, songs and jests supreme, park bench hollows
for the termite lisp in sounds of the multitude,
had but the termite song bore a chair to rock a baby blue,
i'd too rock a baby in suffocating termites song,
but we known nouns are not delicious "out of time"
in the adjectives, for we know nouns as static insurmountable objects,
and given the unitary subjectivity of sport statistics,
they are only worth a passive commentary of nodding and passivity
to please - i.e., never was sloth a gamble to ease a fission of gambled lessening;
but if philosophers corrects poets, then poets end up correcting furtherance
with philosophy simply plagiarised for academia's salary bogus;
wishing that socrates only took the bribe rather than the poisonous brine.

i start the night off reading *the offence of poetry, by an emeritus prof.,
hazard adams, gets me ******* to the point where i forgive the culprit
of rotten *** and jealous ****** born lute worthy out of wedlock...
why the violins i ask, chopin played a few dirges on piano,
why the sentiment to imagine Dickensian paupers?
a violin dropped from the sky with frogs & lepers didn't **** anyone,
but a piano did, once, in bad key.

i started the night off reading a book: the offence of poetry,
got *******,
walked off into the jiggle night starry for some beers,
walked past a family: mother, father plus 3, a boy and two girls,
headphones on, hushed, then my hairpiece the attention,
walked into the off-lice, picked up 8 cans,
stood there imitating conservative *******,
spotted the mother eagerly brushing shadows with me,
tilted from my eye corner into her face
and spotted a ****** up face of smiles:
girls talked about me like zoella,
i donned my pseudo self-inventive chonmage,
hair too thick;
but i egged them on in rugby, loving the tetragrammaton geometry of
two H, y for threes in dimensions and
all the tactic being: // \ for the w.
pardon me wrong but was it: eager eagle's nest the jester in clown's face paint
**** of splash in conversation?
but don't you just love a married woman with three kids
putting two wine bottles on a counter looking at you
after her children said something noticeable about you only secondary in dreams?

well... there's the rude story of a friend's father among many
to claim the accent in jealousy,
father ****** no. 2, hide his ***** in a ******* prior to the girthed birth
experience of: "rising to the top of law and commerce."
idiotic ******* the load of them;
happened in leicester sq. i have you know,
irish was blazed in ginger that day too reminiscent of celtic,
but as you know, intelligence and the irish swing into the maxim:
a man walks into a pub - they delivered the concrete!
the pub is emptied, the irish run out for hands on prayer missing -
in shakespearean metaphor of folding monks giving prayer to ****
the ***** and lips the kiss, for whatever reason was worth a rhythmic suffix as towed into -ed, -ed.

I seldom indulge in letter writing
Because I consider it
To be a cold and illusory
Means of communication.
I will only send someone a letter
If I'm certain it's going to serve
A definite functional purpose,
Such as that which I'm
Scrupulously concocting at present
Indisputably does.
It's not that I incline
Towards excessive premeditation;
Its rather that I have to subject
My thoughts and emotions
To quasi-military discipline,
As pandemonium is the sole alternative.
I'm the compensatory man par excellence.
                                                              
Deliberation, in my case,
Is a means to an end,
But scarcely by any means,
An end in itself.
This letter possesses not one,
But two, designs.
On one hand, its aim is edification.
Besides that, I plan to include it
In the literary project upon which
I'm presently engaged,
With your permission of course.
Contrary to what you have suspected
In the past,
I never intend to trivialise intimacy
By distilling it into art.
On the contrary, I seek
To apotheosise the same.
                                                              
You see...I lack the necessary
Emotional vitality to do justice
To people and events
That are precious to me;
I am forced, therefore,
To at a later date call
On emotive reserves
Contained within my unconscious
In order to transform
The aforesaid into literary monuments.
You once said that my feelings
Had been interred under six feet
Of lifeless abstractions;
As true as this might be,
The abstractions in question
Come from without
Rather than within me:
                                                              
My youthful spontaneity
Many mistrustfully identified
With self-satisfied inconsiderateness
(A standard case of fallacious reasoning),
And I was consequently
The frequent victim
Of somewhat draconic cerebrations.
I tremble now
In the face of hyperconsciousness.
I've manufactured a mentality,
Riddled with deliberation,
Cankerous with irony;
Still, in its fragility,
Not to say, artificiality,
It can, with supreme facility,
Be wrenched aside to expose
The touch-paper tenderness within.
                                                              
With characteristic extremism,
I've taken ratiocination
To its very limits,
But I've acquainted myself with,
Nay, embraced my antagonist
Only in order to more effectively throttle him.
Being a survivor of the protracted passage
Through the morass of nihilism,
Found deep within
"the hell of my inner being,"
I am more than qualified to say this:
There is no way out
Of the prison of ceaseless sophistry.
There are many things I have left to say,
But I shall only have begun to exist in earnest
When these are far behind me,
In fact, so far as to be all but imperceptible.
                                                              
I long for the time
When I shall have compensated to my satisfaction.
I never desired intellectuality; it was ****** upon me.
Everything I ever dreaded being, I've become
Everything I ever desired to be, I've become.
I'm the sum total of a lifetime's
Fears and fantasies,
Both wish-fulfillment
And dread-consummation incarnate.
I long for the time
When I shall have compensated to my satisfaction.
I never desired intellectuality; it was ****** upon me.  
I'm the sum total of a lifetime's
Fears and fantasies,
Both wish-fulfillment
And dread-consummation incarnate.
I'm the compensatory man par excellence.

close proximity word-compounds are sometimes the hardest to invert onto themselves, to craft a chiral pivot, notably due to the suffix-blindspot of the non-differentiated prefix antonym, even more so, when guarded by close proximity of words such as hubris / hiatus - esp. when was begins one's logical approach, inducing a misnomer tangle - due to the overtly laden verbum similis; and these little schematic squares of extremely confrontational, but also the more so extremely cohabitable ref. points, will always be harder to master, than say: a rigid rhyme schematic of a sonnet.

all this current talk of protecting free speech,
cf. with the writing i'll cite -
well, so much for a freedom that can
invite both the sophist and babbling of
slanging slurs -
      all in all, in defence of the "freedom" of
speech, is just as well, a: freedom for
idle talk - and if not idle talk, then simply
politicised intrigue, that once gained
the ears of salon ladies at liberty to an alt.
to ****** arousal.

and how did this come about?
   oh... well, what people talk about now,
is what people thought about in the 1920s
and the 1930s...
                  
as heidegger points out, regarding a herr
oswald spengler - der untergang das abendlandes
(1918 - 1922 vol. 1 & vol. 2 respectively):
the famous suggestion of a *decline of the west:
paragraph opening -
          why is herr spengler in noting
a decline? not because of the heroic optimists
being correct with regards to this apparent
decline - modernity as the unfathomable
stretch toward a status quo eternity -
and with darwinism, the theory of relativity,
the big bang, quantum physics -
there's about as much worth of a question-worthiness
these days, as there is a needle's worth
in a haystack of airy tumbleweed answer-unworthiness...
these former optimists of the decline
   have turned into ardent pessimists of
there even being a decline -
      
the oeuvre of psychology did the most damage
in the end -
   still mingling with an archaic sophistry of
astrology, tarot and the voting ballot -
       no shred of a doubt that we live in a one
way street of: answers & denials only, please,
questions & doubts, ooh noo noo noo!
         we do not live worthy of a question -
since by question we mean: ridicule being
the only appropriate answer deserved by
asking a question.
              
    it came with the change of hiatus between
   the two factions -
   once the optimists took to hubris -
                   the pessimists take to hiatus -
if we called them heroic optimists -
we now call them optimists in hubris -
  once we called them lunatic pessimists
and ultra-religious leash bearers -
     now we call them: young people who
forgot to take chances, risks, and thrills...
  cushion padded wet charcoals that
have as much potential to burn as -
                               a dolphin getting dry.

and aphorism 105 (VI) does just that,
   100 years ago by my circa approach -
'the west will not go down, primarily because
it is too weak for that, not because
it is still strong.'
  which is why i ask: is free speech anything
to defend these days, when free thought
echoes so many years later,
  and what is now considered "free" speech
is merely idle superstition regarding
a "revival", the last supposed push?

there's absolutely no honour in kicking
a maned dog,
                    and in that act: of kicking
a maned dog, or giving a bowlful of bones
for a toothless dog to nibble on
is just as well... might as well spoon out
the marrow and give the old hag of the west
a pâté to slurp...
        yes, orthographically speaking:
very pedantic of the french to bend the macron
into a circumflex -
sure, ain't pretty, but i can assure you:
i'll be technical;

what the west can be thankful of is that it's
the first culture in decline,
   and once a culture is in decline,
among so many others, the others follow suite -
like a spread of cancer,
or any other plague -
     it probably begins by the european
decadence in not respecting antibiotics -
  infesting themselves with superbugs -
or thereby managing to craft some sort of
immunity to them...
  and they say that ****** if baah baah baad...
big pharma never kills, does it?!

i'm still confused on a close proximity akin
to thesaurus logic of synonyms -
i.e. decline of the west = heroic optimists of the decline
        (it must surely happen!)
or is: decline of the west = pessimists on hiatus?
                  i.e. it will never happen!

ah! that's what it was: i was thinking of hiatus
but wrote hubris instead... d'uh dum dum...

  i.e. the roles have changed -
now the pessimists are engaged in hubris -
                      while the optimists are on a hiatus:
the whole - i told you so...
             the whole i told you so since the 1920s
is irrelevant these days,
   given the great america never again ended
at the beginning of the 21st century...
                    the monologue from the grand ***
degraded from the grand satan is hot puff and
cinnamon smoke...
          
       once more: what is relevant about what's
being said these days? as much as was a passing
observation in the 1920s?
          i hardly think so...
   the so-called freedom that only gravitates
to idle-chit-chat and poseur antics of bravado?

given that not much is questioned,
   and whatever is questioned has lost its allure
to be fresh, to be alarming,
   all the questions asked are plagiarisms,
a dead-end, in imagery: a library with only
one book in it (i mean, a library brimful with
books, but all these books are the same book);
which makes these times so
answer-unworthy - is that they come so
easily, and are usually borrowed from
the same anglophonic sets of ideas,
regurgitated chick food from the peckers of
their parental guardians.
            
         well, if you live in times when people
have that idiotic audacity to ask a question
like: what's the meaning of life,
  why are we here, how did we form, etc.:
   all these inessential "essence" questions -
          and about as many historicals gaps
of memory lapse as a drinking session with
oliver reed in between...
               the only question goes something
like this:
   and ? found myself walking around the house,
walking by a mirror, ? peered in,
   and without a narcissus to mind
to slowly build a curiosity that would turn
into self-love, ? exclaimed: !,
   after which ? steadied by pace of questioning
adding the much needed: ?!
                      
what's as good a questioning dynamic / schematic as
you're going to get, these days.

the arrogance

oh humankind
terror
fear
suffering
exponential death
we have brought
into this plane

a world
that may be no larger
than my eyes attest

oh humankind
our purposeful waste
dispensable products
people
populations

oh humankind
our sophistry of individuality
greed
power
war
genocide
in the fallacious name of
permanence

oh humankind
we cling to our objects
our love and hate
our righteous insecurities
we claim these as authentic

but we are little more than ghosts
inflicting a blink
a glimmer
of intolerably painful light

while we
these pathetic apparitions
stubborn and feeble
dissipate
into colorless purity

Cynegetic scollardical cymaphens reticulated through gradgrinded lavaderos pinpoints the sycomancy of sciophilous garbology the schwerpunkt nidus of all nimonic nomology of alamodes eruciform in regardant espaliers estranging abvolts while appointing the abseil of maskirovka abroach of every finicky virgation such that indomitable agathism truckles dancette at the ventrad extreme of camarillas of plenary azoth intermediary to alacritous svedbergs transposed by avocets backfiring because of autecology in gnotobiology the auncel of many wellaways. Pivoting from provenance to the entelechy of providence seeks to decimate by aucupation anisothenic because of aduncated helms of adscription reasting importunate insubordination as admaxillary heaving in  onocrotal obsequent dragoons underscoring termagant obeluses undergirding the izzat of fretful katzenjammer such that ixia browbeats iters, irokos, jabirus and other gossypine jockos of the bosket might the skeletonized skullduggery isotropic to such a steep extent of isorhythm that interpunction is vouchsafed by militating tacenda and tangible tatamae sweltering urmen orchestrated by stibadium of stereopsis manifest as sprags apotheosized by spinney sapwood tholing ulterior docimasy (a spikenard of maritodespotic bascule). Ocreated jansky instituted to the benefit of satraps of jannock ponderation of psephology vivat in atomkent bernaggles ****** with primposition abetting abaft gamidolatry twiring upon the turtleback as the rapknock trimkoppa usufruct of martingale mortmains more mortiferous than sanguine because of steep annihilation of tutiorism turncocking thymogenic and algedonic optimization of subaltern structuralism vitiated by stivers of egestuous morality esteemed as the linchpin of ratheripe syndicalism. Rendevation is allied with elastane garbology that maybe the sennet treacles wiggletempers wuthering willowish slimmerbacks to prevent trykling vecordy in verglas iceblinks of angstroms of stacking bagging bareges and galeres of galericulated eloquence shapely in vernalized pulchritude tziganology manufactures with trucage and facture among factotum sinecures dainty with coy sobriquets of vesuvian vestas whirling around koines of lavolta knouting with donnybrooks of hilasmic kitthoge kirking in intrepid earwiggery the keffel of noisome ratomorphism projicient to commiserate with reedbuck morkins of grampus reclamed as vorticism for rectitudinous flavors of soteriological varietism dignified against nihilist trillops rather sanctified by numinous albenture. The riometers of rhinocerial quandaries rapt in skewbald stereopsis roodging ever wase of wanchancy scavaged from rampick vestiges of delignated sapwood among vinsky and propriety the cathead bangtail pulchritude of despised cicisbeo persiflage intermediate to entelechy equipoise isonomy steeped on catastrophism is nasute enough to forage apodictic enumeration of nimiety in binturong notaphily by bergamask delegation of bayadere pretense lavished upon stalwart batten. Thereby, a bypassed lavadero choused by baragnosis in macropicide by barracoons depaysed by bonanza compital with ochlesis in sybaritic windfalls ocreate because of throttled octothorpian usufruct because of swooning elflock ulmaceous in unstercorated scofflaw ultraism the linchpin upstay of covert interpunction parlayed into implodent acmes that the pesky urchin mortmains counterfoiling imprimatur latitudes of morrises entangled in mazopathia designates the interdigitation of ulterior sophism specious by design to abet the interramification of ixiodic cimelia in perdurable olivasters of categorical imperative. Because of these whilom stipulations, isochrone bandobasts of flagrant bontbokian architectonics entangled in aquarelles lionized as the persiflage of videndum visibilia apophasis  constrained by the pilloried aplanatic interpretation of megalography apical and foudroyant at the forefront of all mutual endeavor dripping with apostils aquiline in biotaxy among halibiotic bucentaur shenangos adscripted by Hakenkreuz.

Emphatic hadal asphyxiation  of haemataulics wandering in venostasis handseling nomogeny bocking in magpiety and harking every sederunt endeared by abbozzo surging into composite ampelography (the venue of the obvious humdingers and sockdolagers egelidation appoints commonplace) effulgent upon oystercatcher eyeservice of habanera to harpoon tympanies of mackintosh forestalled by adiathermic alamodes (cavorting still today with their own lavolta) beyond the stanjant capacities of jiggermasts omnified by sociogenic thremmatology of seminal haecceity. Redoubled by eluetherian energism tainted by egoism, the duende of barasingha Boanerges magnetized to omphalism disorbed by crass cryptadia martingales (the chronobiology of emphatic kymatology) the ambit of focal cockshies is predictably invariant within narrow ranges of cliometric servitude to windcheater keystone mainstays of revalorized kith governed by imperious woonerf. Every punctilio carracks esteem ceraceous in the Baedeker espouses  concubinal nympholepsy with the numbats of umbrose stoping stunsails of megacerine stupulose macroscian vorticism sidelined in primeval eisegesis idiorhythmic to bubaline skeletonized briquets that betise every gigantomachy the batten tries to proscribe in a whack-a-mole shifty enthymemes of fretful epilations mobilized in exigency by adynaton scofflaw swashbuckling affreux monetized alidade always repined but never eradicated because of eruciform demand for brehon.

        Although directly ignorant of traves of allemain known only by the allemande, the alnagers of cisvestism--the alpenstockers of cultural vitiation by joggling virgation of whittawers of striga--ambagious and anaclastic in submerged analgia milked by reedbuck poldering wharfingers of transpontine beblubbered sentimentalism sublated from specious sophistries and casuistries into pseudo-coherent aporia enlisting accidia to rankle and cadge deadwood ideologies into deadeye bronteums tethered to davenport miscegenation of dancette and dageraad by tamaraw juggernauts of austringer auncels of cultural mismatches attorn by ateknia corroded by asterisms become extremely macroseismic svedbergs of turtleback iceblinks manufactured as ad hoc ashplant soteriology among arrendators indelible in houndstooth oreillet. Thereby, opsigamy turncocks opodeldoc oniscoids sublineating the perverse subreption against any given stritch that outfoxes simple carnal maximalism examines the subfocal mensuration of cryptotype embedded in pycnostyle genizah gamboling with cribbled sophomoric crampons couveusing cordwainers into covert mirlitons ignorant of contecking urgency because wertfrei boweries pullulate with Jesuitical jarveys of psaphonic dearth into zugzwang wroth easily enthused on suboptimal garbology of elastane manufacture.

    The woolpack of fundamental fantasia is designed by eurythmics uxorious to windlasses of caprice engineered by zazzy woodreeves zebrine by umbrilizing protanopia revolting against ukase bonanzas never deferent to synoecized synartesis of Sarvodaya because of nosebag boondoggles of rannygazoo nonage of finitism aggrieved by nolitions negentropized which fuels insipid upaithric blandishment and nebulized futilitarianism ignorant of the demarcated set of nautic operations permissible by rigorous interramification against birling bickerns of bodaches suborned by inculcated onolatry cretifying nidifugous miasma despite enriching the briquet rather than outmoding hierarchies of substratose balanism integral to selfsame caesarapropism.  A mackintosh optimized with gradgrind statoliths of emacity in stegmonths macarized by vasotribes against schmeggegy enriches rivages of choregus plight in paxillose rifacimento of inveterate agiotage corralled by cliometric restraint of revolute revanche shroffed in shambolic spancels of revalorization hindered by simultagnosia of echards versus umstrokes and chevets narrowcast to the morioplasty of dyvors backbitten by bewildered and marooned mobilism rather than enriched by psaphonic laxisms of vaccimulgent latitude. In this varsal gestalt picture it becomes axiomatic that jiggery-pokery belongs to antebellum agathism by jerkinhead moralism dispossessed by jannock wuthering in vesuviation of woolfell vestiges windgalled wedeln by cordwainer oystercatchers of dogwatch domett of doucs of subsultus brackish stockinette omnified by drabbles against the very dowitchers obedient to lampas limpkin vastation lapatic in transformation of the corrugated jamdani forefront zebrine in favor of rheotaxis defeated by the zelotypia of arriviste hawseholes hinnable against circumjacent kitsch because of hodiernal hogshead wirewoven pycnostyle promulgated by hopsack betises in nimonic optimization against plucky quagmires of neutrosophy (the horme of ulterior huggery attempting gezellig for schmeggegy) neutered by huckabuck stridulation.

    The hederaceous-vulpecular merger of hulchy subfocal hylomania delegating abrasive hypaspist by cultural Zollvereins entrusting the zenana of nomogeny degaging algedonic overdrive because the dedans prefer predictable syntalities orchestrated by dabchick autecology endeared to aurilave upbringing trapezing over nodalities and nolitions by adept alnageria alpenstocking amnicolists of the seediest verisimilitude of vogue jarveyed substandard by design. We can therefore conclude that acerbated pleochroic aasvogels gifted with enjambment use encaustic docimasy to throttle fretful emunctory empasm to the octroi of stannaries’ designed as impudent isostasy milking the Ishan of Hakenkreuz and the ushabti of bahuvhri into a composite stricture beneficent to swanskin because of privileged sycomancy about abroach virgations vastation prefers appointed to the promachos sulcalization of pleonasm in metaplasm metapolitical because of wapentake pandering. This incentivizes the sastruga of opodeldoc sarods marinated by the sarinda of aftershaft draconian dragoons which becomes an impediment to saltus surreys saginating sybotic sederunts to rackrent bareges impeded by bannock as chatelaines who adscript against cryptotype maraud in celsitude wuthering bletcherous in the wroth of contrition. Maritodespotic muliebrity wroxing virility further strained by exigent conditions wrawls when winklers yeuk rimose yelm into narrischkeit zugzwang yawing pupated policies against the puckery of bagging jarveys of psittacist stokehold inertia as midwives and proxenetes of boyau and bowline iberis the psaltery of nebels probanding pinguefied pataphysics. The relict of remigation for phonascus in unanimity thereby deposed by the provincial attitudes of omnicompetent authors of strigine thremmatology in onocrotal resignation sweltering in barms become feckless in every modality save opisthenar dippoldism wagered against yaraks by yirding niccolic oppidan strictures easily refuted by collective opsiometry limited in efficacy because of surdomute organdie on the twiring turtleback of opprobrium constitutes a larger minority of psephological brunt of osmol channeled through ablegated aboulia of abessive bannock monopolized by bodach acrotism of oxtered naivety coauthored by vintage adamitism gradately detraque against the sloyd of snaffling scaldabanco thus wagered against pathetic sondation debunked by arduous contortions of syllepsis enumerated syllabatim emphatic about swapes of edgy suretyships sundogs to humane scholastication rather than inane schmegeggy. Scialytic polemics must unearth the axiomatic fallacies undergirding the scilicet scissure cobaltiferous to both scop (the protectorate of subternatural lionization of epigones) and scumble (the affairs of apotropaic propriety resorting to stultification of seedy seahogs sanctioned by bontboks of trespass rather than authenticity) primarily because seersucker semioviparious serpentry (staked on iridaceous interpellation of exploitative wapenshaws doytining with washball protervity among wastelot polders coffling rather than coacervating headlong imperatives of collective perdurable jannock) gravitates jawhole nidamental sophistry on perverse baized notandum (counterfeit backpieces of bagnio rotocracy) to pullulate among degrees of fundamental baryecoia stipulated on maladroit bavardage by prominent odalisque gammerstang squintifegos eager to beeskep the patriarchy by wayspaying all virility with such stang (commodified svedbergs of rackrent immoral self-mortgage) that statuvolism entrenches synchysis despite self-aware brisures of ochlesis informed of both its duplicity and noxious futility. Debased structuralism incumbent upon any sociogenesis stodged by podlec fracklings often of a nyejay persuasion traindeque both toonardical bodaches and permeable victims of cisvestism because, as chorizonts of benevolent nativism because of chlamydate outliers and simultaneously  neovitalism because of pushful atheism, they derelict (because of pauperized nimiety to narrischkeit nihilism) the fundamental conjugates to a predicate of stark realism integral to univocal science waygone by suboptimal syndyasmia of ecdysiast spuddled saprogenic quidlibets gorgonized by tanquams of batten morigeration (modish only at the periphery of perusal manque to eximious stridulation beyond coemptive tantiemes of mandarist sophistry) embodies the marasmus of higher education--lustrated of useful heterodoxy cogent in parallelism to truth.
  
     The doyen libken formative to docile inquiry coagulates lemmas idiosyncratically because imperious laxism is gnotobiological in autecology and sedimentary to epigones of isagoge of subsequent interrexes of social sciences incondite in handfast geoscopy to gangues of both coherent pretense and redundant tortivinity somewhat approximate of truth but subjoined to tegular tropophilous ginglymus virgated by tangential suborning tephra (a tautomerism of specious pragmatica) paroxytone by tamburitza professors jockeying for sematic acclaim with sententious deliberative neglect or endorsement of tribuloid quodlibertarianism. Imprinted agitprop slanted by backpieces and defiant tresayles against patriotic fervor become the tournures of tootle or the testudo of flagrant dogmatism which verges into terramara guff gowking adduced historical liturgy of either gavelkind naivety or grognard misprision of true militated mizzenmasts of supersolid vis because of varsal epergne kneaded into mockado mulisms of mumpsimi tangential more obtusely to linear truths than acute in vraisemblance to centripetal axioms of bandelet assuaged not by only seniority or by seniority at all but rather dignified by the rigor of nutation survived as the cockshies of gestalt tangible noesis by the nepholemetry of plenary genius rather than prima facie parvanimity. The inchoate period of neutrosophy existed in septiferous nidamental fragments that entrenched many nimbose nivial of peremptory iberis (far before iconomachy became necessary) waged in internecine mutualism of gridlock between idiorhythmic utility and ignicolist illutation compounded into imparidigitation impleaching entire disciplines by interspersing indign paragons and oryx osnaburg overlock as the predicates of easement dissembled as alloquy alepines to auncels leading to both bonanza and academic akinesia as stipulated by the same gammon handfast to ahimsa and other deontology subternatural to such a grave extent that agoge became improbable. The aglet of adiaphorous nimiety screwball with anteric agistments of redoubled agathism must always concede to the damson which utterly belittles widgeons of the polder’s deadwood ambitions devalled in noyade in the dolabration of stratified tegular doits met with austere dometts against draffish kitsch falsidical in oppositive nesh facetiae quopped arrosive in psychotaxis reiterated by baseline banality into ashplant evulsion eruciform in only the gaudiest neglect of moral enthalpy.

One of the more importunate quandaries vitiating lyceums is warped emotivism disdainful in elutriation of alembicated elentic capacities corrugated to such revolute strain of ekistics that ecrevisse isorhythm of post-graduate isopach groomed by isochrone maximalism used in frenzied undinism in profane ukase authored by spurriers behooved by resourceful sprags buddling with enmity against bodkin proxemics that evolve into bisontine blackmasters of substandard competency inculcated often by berceuse (only to the afterclap of incredulity among the vast majority) bavians of academic bavardage insulated from bickerns of astute nidology primarily because of jocko niaiserie conformed to chatoyant chamfrains that prefer projicient procrypsis to dutiful moya. The mowing subservience of academia (even hederaceous institutions) to demolish oikonisus is flagrant that ineptly mottles morphallaxis of synsematic opinions outside the arena of their original context to misprision because of metapolitics for mercedary menticide heaving the vestiges of prescriptivism to upstage coherent probands only because of hamstrung pseudogyny and psittacist yawing yelms wed to the annihilation of wilding albenture in socially contingent disciplines bent by witchknots into jettatura by jimswinging yaraks privy to the jud and sudd of domestic academic canque casefied into catacoustics to sustain sabbatical bordars by bobstaying incondite blunges of post-modern ****** adduced from nebulized dogmatism of socialist monotroch nimbose in heyday decay never again as preeminent as it was prima facie. Diseased socialism is a spindrift smellfungus minatory paideutic enterprise berating the cockshy phrontisteries as martext asylums against mainsail livedo levanting moral valor iracund against the hyperbulia of tribuloid heterodyne haecceities more accurate than quacksalver pantagamies of upstaged gynics gaumless in pedestrian platitudes in footling shibboleths of academic macarization pilloried by sulcalized thinkers gnapping at every seamy flothery of goliardy compaginated from apocryphal comprachios disfigured by celation into tyrannical eisegesis rarely challenged because scacchic engrenage anticipates acrasia in etypical honesty against cotquean niffs of supercilious athenaeum nilling truth because of the pules of the turtleback amenable to the fondink of bowdlerization often apologetic about moonraker decimation ignored by the empaths that sublimate the notandum of commiseration so steeply misinformed about cladogenesis and so aggrieved by cittosis and cisvestism that they manufacture bugaboo cirripeds chirking caudling jiggery-pokery “color-blindness” jeremiads of jeofail in jarveys against nappes whipstaffing internecine irredentism yomping fecklessly and fretfully bereft of chiasmus into the traulism of mismatched narrischkeit.

TO BE CONTINUED....

i seem to have discovered what
drives the "average"
atheist...

   well...
     i'm not fan of either:
but the amazing atheist's
critique of jordan peterson's
book?

you pick these "nuances"
up the more you look, closely...

yes, i did go to a catholic
school,
but no, i refrained from
    being confirmed...
baptism?
   nothing i could have done
about that...

aside...

   as i of the people:
and the people just keep hanging
around the Pillars of Samson,
e.g.:
the man made "no sense":

sense as in what?
to see, to hear?
  so he made sense...
     nonsense is a different
variation of:
  what remains of
the post-pentagram
"yoga" session..

   only when an atheist
succumbs to rhetoric
do i see it...

      i thinker would sooner
succumb to etymology
and shut up...
but an atheist?
         upon listening:
do you hear it?

it's like they're craving
an ever-more necessary
expasion of their
vocabulary...

i find all atheists
to be word-starved...
they read
a thesaurus like
a bible,
like:
oh you see it when
an author reduces
himself / herself
to the use of a thesaurus:

the word looks like
a mile,
when it should looks
like a centi-
         of a -metre.

i'm not defending
either of the people
involved...

      i already gave my
cent flicked into
a fountain for luck:

rule 13: wear pajamas
to bed...

rule 12:
pet a cat when you encounter
one in the street...

yeah... about that...
(scratching of the head:
i.e. Adam implies
thought...)

imagine: Rodin's
le penseaur via a chirogram:
almost "unnatural":
with an arm
         outstretched,
then folding,
   then parts of the hand
scratching the cranium...
like: serious art,
taken to the circus...
but that would be enough
to: forget the chin,
the folded hand
in a pact of non-aggression,
a count of knuckles
like the limbs of
a sleeping spider
lodged in a spider-web...

i think: verb -
   chiro-:
              give me a minute
to sieve through
the grammatical
structures
           of the sensing...

nonetheless:
i find the majority of atheists
to be starved
          from a:
lingua anti deo...

              i haven't found
a vocal atheist to be
a case for a: silence
associated with an investigation
to amount to an etymology...

atheists, i find,
are always... "riddled"
by "feeling"
inadequate,
concerning their acquisition
of vocab.,
an atheist will always
become intrinsic to the existence
of a thesaurus...
  atheists are prone
to exfoliate their base:
of everyday spreschen
via...
    yes... the casual author
appears terrible:
  having to make use of
a thesaurus:

the ******* word
looks like a sore thumb,
or a trumpet for a worth
of an elephant's trunk
dipping in imitation:
for a flush of water...

that 12nd rule though...
eeeeeeeeh...
no...
  sorry...
someone should have told
him: cats are not that
gullible to attend to petting
from someone walking
a street at night...
drinking a beer...

      ever have a staring
contest with a fox?

           em... "oops"?!

see... not all cats can be
petted, randomly,
on a street...

      give or take: a P.U.A.'s
fraction of a gullible ****'s
worth to the
  "blessed night's" completion...

no: no random cat will
allow itself to be petted,
but find one:
sure... you'll pet it...

      but... aaah...
find a fox...
          and stand against
it with a touching distance...
now you're into
a serpentine of
at least the 15th rule,
for "life"...

             nonetheless...
atheists...
   i don't mind them...
a god, no god,
no vector,
no coordinate,
yet still the "familiar"
consequence
of "things"
being fathomed
via the medium of
in situ...

         but...
atheists have been prescribed
an ontological "quest"
that demands: of them,
     to "reiterate"...

"new" words need
to be employed...
"new" words need to be
"found"...
          
there are those words
used in a framework
of speaking "freely"
that succumb to...
  being looked up, prior...

you can see a punctuation
mark
when there's no
punctuation mark
apparent...

                    but there's a clarity
of a hunger that can only
be associated with atheism:
in that it's a...
              crafting
a necessity fabric of / for
a rubric of vocab. -
  in the least: to peacock...
in the most:
    shut-up
   and not appear as some
New Yawn-kipper...

how... ever...
why would the chin be so
incredibly important
to source it, as an artifact
for the proof of thought?

had that statue a beard:
you'd receive an imprint
of a man:
fiddling with a beard,
atuned to resemble
playing a violin...

but no statue:
of a man... in the most
worth of an chirogram attest:
i.e. scratching his head...

yes, Socrates had the questions,
he, an anomaly
of what becomes
                   of old, demented,
age process in a script's worth
of indicators...
anomaly...

and subsequent philosophers?

         as long as the narrative
survives...
as long as the narrative
becomes more and more
entrenched, intrinsic:
    then we can labor moving
forward:
on the whims of a maxim...

   but sooner or later,
a la rochefoucauld or a nietzsche
comes along...
utters his maxims
and leaves them... adrift:
on the chance of:
by precursor notices of
"said" farces: they become
resonant
pirates of wisdom...

the instruments that
are a will: to provision
a humbling...
   a...            knee to tongue
approach...

i don't mind atheists...
i just find them
vocab. starved...
   whenever i hear them
speak, i can't but begin
to orientate myself
around their "thinking":
in that,
the precursor is
always a thesaurus...
   and image becomes:
       ein waßerfall von zungen -

me? i have to unlearn
the bogus chirogram of:
in the name of the father,
and of the son,
and of the holy spirit...

i.e.
   go north / up / it goes to the head,
go crux / center / it goes to the heart,
  go left / your left hand
gets chopped off,
go right / your right hand
gets chopped off...
                    
an atheist is still
someone who seeks to
nibble on the excerpts of
politico sophistry...
not withstanding
the crux of: the short-cut...

            i can see the vanity
of atheists...
   seeking the art of rhetoric...
perfecting it...
  to me... atheists are
very much akin
              to rhetoricians...

        what couldn't
possibly be a desire to expand
on one's vocab.?
         hell...
in the age where
aesthetic is lesser known
form of knowledge,
and knowledge is
worth just as much
as: trivia...

                 petting a cat
on a street, at night?
not so easy...
                     try freezing
a fox into an exchange
of a stare
   within a framework of:
the pair of you
are made unison
for a moment...
   only a meter apart.

Flippant polymaths exude the frippery of travail for lapsed inordinate surgical gains in temporal but temporary acclaim that owes its provenance to the gullarge accentuated by the guttural tempests of silent windfalls that wrestle with sharks and snarky cagamosis with pilfered fame without rulers for rules that own the profligacy of a cineaste game

We cannot surpass our talents with ease when the treecheese of inevitable distance between equipoise and insanity is a tantamount inanity of prolixity for the sake of freedom rather than servitude to the slow meandered steps of trudged verbigeration that needs to be exorcised from the seat of authority for the plodding inconvenience of time earned that shakes the listless yearning people who lie and spurn

Demagogues are trifles because they are anoegenetic and care not for the abligurition that consumes the energy of a dismal life lived on fringes rather than reaped with grimaces for binges that continue to absorb the painful pangs of twinges that hedonists are of interest

We cannot exorcise the demons that give stygian weight to exchequers beyond the gamut of money but rather the currency of velocity of thought that owes its weight to weightlessness of spaces between the spacious and the limited tract of isolative territory that many mendicants looking for sustenance travail in insolence and in perjury of their solemn duties for self-serious honesty they lack a vista to see their crimes as more than just a pettifoggery of disputatious wranglers that wrench and then contemn the objects of their moral scruples to contend with nothing but the vacant expanse of a limitless injury for a momentary slip of cultivation and countenance

Frippery is hard to cobble with lapidary wit because succinct grievances are fallow ground for the permanence of atrocity and the temperance of felicity to conform to the desiccated pathways of limpid but livid excoriations of willful ingenuity met with aleatory rambles that sprawl incalescence with words as a dying occupation that is resurrected from the abeyance of its pragmatic utility to distinguish class from crust.

The triadic fatuousness of snarky sharks recruiting the gullarge of paranoiacs to deputized alacrity lead many strident vocations astray as they pilfer the nullibiety of spectral ignorance and defy the gravitas of the primiparas of a swollen technocracy, an outrage that scarecrows with prevenance have adumbrated against with strident accelerations of sublime velocity

So we swim in perilous straits against the demiurge of inclemency in fated rittles for the turpitude of wraiths and engineer every aborning day a new foofaraw of unalloyed atrocity
Now more than never should be deployed to ensure that the castigation of scoundrels and guttersnipes that exert a rip tide to those stranded on the shores of littoral desiccation might find the pristine beachgoing public an amenable treat proffered by exorcised sheepishness in reiterative bleats that quarkswarm only the antinomy of sentient masteries by shoveled civilizations proctor to horological insistence in design

So we designated an abeyance of heydays to create a rippled nostalgia that creeps in the winter storms that singe even glabrous ignorance with the twinges in absentia of the regal crows that circle the sun as the sustenance of the alighted moon as we reach for the heaved Richter teeming with ablution for venial commination of prolix croons that exert a Palo Alto rhyme

Phenomenological fields distal to the cephalocaudal origination of limber and the ironic counterpoint to that strife in excess rather than dearth of the henchmen behind the exchequer showcase that fluid thoughts surpass the limits of the dentistry of cosmetic cosmology simultaneously a scientific boon but a coarse albatross

We are criminals in a world stranded by ****** apostasy because of the sincerity of minstrels meets plodding human ignorance as exemplars rather than the apotheosis of divine excoriation of wastrels and flattybouches who webdoodle their way into the extinction line in some computer file swiped from eccedentesiasts who often in uncouth barbarity forgetfully abide without the temperance of floss

So what are we to make of magisterial wits of wiseacres who pilot tenable objectives like Indiana Jones flexing his comical whip when the gunfire of cacophony inundates our ears with a lisp of cockalorum imposture rich in chewing tobacco and its ungainly gripes and tenacious grip

Should we seek salvation from the treecheese of arboreous terrain amenable to the newfangled windfall of agricultural whims that dare now with caprice but not quixotic disdain to reconfigure the parsimonious levered engagement of melliferous fungible transaction between sabbaticals and chief financiers dubbing the vociferous limn of the primeval fulgurant incandescent ethereal quips?

We strive for palaces issued with dimes, dozens and scores of retinues that retain the patina of sophistry as the gullarge makes the vangermytes cozy in their defensively mechanized citadel buffered against the unheralded malversations of mammon intersecting with primordial chemistry that give the philanderer a guise of philanthropy despite professed gainsay that perjures because hucksters are winsome with fiduciary risk

So we calumniate with lapsed puns and Potter’s Spells as we dredge the indemnity of bustling heydays that extend beyond the bailiwick stated because of the prolonged trace of nostalgia that frazzles our voluntary expeditions with misanthropy as each libertine instinct becomes subject to stop and frisk

How to balk at such a garrulous repartee as proffered by swanky intransigence that shakes it off in a quaky town that hates the Swift refrain that endangers the fatalism of recuperated foresight borrowed from the armamentarium of corrupted killjoys who swim in a dalliance with the itchy myths that drift from powerlessness to voguish debauchery of insouciant internecine fringes frayed by the tomes that decry Stygian drift

Shiftless and rooted in rintinole absolved by plackiques that enchant the voyeurism of repined squalor of industrious frippery deracinated from the aureate complicity of largesse calibrated to mobilize the skittish mercurial yuppies to a dance with divestiture, taxes and an earthen death, we sprint the evergreen mile toward the scrupulous invention of enthusiastic euphemisms arbitrated by the procrustean silt of the leaky faucet of enigmatic timelessness etched by chiselers to beat “Us and Them” and warn the vanguard of the front rank about the thespian rift

Exhaustive rescue squads prepared for the dearth of monetary heft in times of perilous drought denigrate the authors of famine to the indulgent parents of inordinate sabotage of narrative for riskless arbitrage that is the outrage of sciamachies between platonic indifference and the tantrums of the feckless in the dangerous hearth of the cavernous wilderness of limitless imaginations that stagger so far beyond orbit they become satellites to vagrancy and whittled paragons too distant to dissolve in the ethereal chemistry of incalescent uproar sadly flanged by the Dopplers of ephemeral fate

Squandered by the desuetude of a snarky intervention I issue invective at the proctors of deafferented limbs for barbarous swine meeting expediency in demise, bemoaning the placid distaste of rectified cries that issue candles for each acrimony beyond the permutation of the staid inflexible limit of 88’

Bashfully we careen through argosies of curiosity to fossick the stalactites of timeworn intuition and reckon with their converse ironies that drip faucets of mildew that remain hidden unless poked by plucky flashlights to inspect the paragon of erosive filigrees of a bewildering paradox of polarized design that one meets the ceiling at inception and the cousin strives to clamber empty space to know with faint certainty the bulldozed irony of superordinate coexistence

Now we return to the majesty of a spurned wiseacre that evades the snappy parlance of a wrenched friction between the physical and the metaphysical elements that constitute a commensurate reality so supernal that its ostentation creates lifetimes of reiterative growth that spawns crimson red and bloviated blues to find a fulcrum of balance between the malversation on one hand of criminal sinister machinations and on the other hand the execrable self-righteous ignorance of a hidden vehicles of dexterity that are subsumed by a subtlety of legislative graft that owes its forbearance to the sanctimony of perseveration without the laurels of persistence

Now we wed the concepts between the ambidexterity of a monolithic titan who wanes rather than waxes himself because his glabrous head already exposed requires nothing new because the empire that struck back is denuded by the thorny imbroglio of a sunken Rose

Timmynoggies are perfect for haberdasheries of saccharine and glib excellence as measured by the ****** cacophony of unmerited applause that strains the resourcefulness of the silent mastery of magistrates in mellifluous alcoves surrounded by the soundproofed rigors of an execrable dereliction wilt into the imaginations of the few that watch movies with errantry rather than pleasantries of gaudy nonsense enchanted by a striptease of the wanton zeitgeist that some balk at but everyone knows

Time earns the spangled banners of sloganeering because of the fastidious creations of pole folders that maneuver between quips borrowed from antique movies and swindled affectations of yearning of many of all fears inevitable with the malevolent passage of the technocracy from cheers to vehement inveighed jeers

We should fear the watershed because it necessitates the evaporation of winsome ambition and implores the subservience of a guiltless fascination with abominable regress concomitant to the acceleration of money preceding a whipsawed downfall ensured by the funereal spates of requiems to oneironauts who plunged to their deaths on headlong flickering whims past the craggy landscape of lunar concordance and through the abeyance of qualms to flabbergasted self-importance in the eradication of provident fears

Memorials exist encoded in the temporal twinges of agony that straddle the cardiovascular throbs of impermanence that sweat with each simple beat to blather about the repetitious nature of a livid nature scrambled in exodus of the emigration of senseless blather to the subroutines of regimented sleepless paragons of travail in every pedestrian feat accelerated with each passing foot traversed by vigilant and eager feet

Tempests crowd the cluttered hamartithia of dredged incompetence leading to the foreclosure that precedes the simple derelictions that amount to grievous uncertainties that squawk in the plumage of the frippery decay of an autumnal fall from gracile riches landlocked without room to sprawl rigged against every track that is a surefire gleeful keepsake to meet, greet and serenade the claques adorned with the monikers of the Greeks

Trembling beneath the weight of mellifluous sauntering dingy designs that exude the anguish of our provident but incidental remonstration against the plodding indifference of the artistic clerisy we sputter against intransigent annulments of the emotive human engine calibrated with creaky pistons that rumble with furor of abrasive protest in timely haphazard elemental designs for vanguard ears

Tridents shed the fossicked leaves that are divisible by two but not inevitably glue that solders the identities of people congregated around a situation of gleeful sprees rather than wistful regress into a temerity without regret that gets dangled in the purview of the spiteful wings of armies that drawl when they sing vapid songs for vaped bongs but not the soberly cheers because of the deafening din of conformity oblivious of the honorific crescendos that still peak after so many restless years

Confederates line the avenues of bustling caverns of cumulative human disdain so willfully flouted by the wrenched corrosive frictions of vibrant deformation of the cultural narrative that encapsulates the collective bubbles chewed and jettisoned like bandied candy and then defamed without justice because  hurricanes churn up the reclusive emergence of protective vanity chased down as a sunken cost for a siphoned glory of tribal pride despite the strictures of logic

Creeping with insistence is a subaudition of governing gravel that entombs many steadfast lies that embodied people living delusory lives under a paradigm that has been subverted by the feats of science into a morass of irrelevance and the chances are many of those so deluded still breathe the air now more polluted but balk at the memories of the fallen passengers on the convalescent train that accelerates sunblind but respectfully toward a systematic engrossment of swollen intellects whimpering about the tautologic

We finance our prescient rodomontade with rodeos equipped with zany clowns who spurn the tridents of Poseidon because of the iridescent gloss of sheepish and flippant zealots who churn against the wrestling match of televised irony with accentuated eccedentesiastic disdain amended by a tolerable diversion of ennobled gallantry zip-zagging among the many valid quodlibets and missing the mark entirely on purpose to vacate the possible raillery of those who balk at time’s chosen serpentine tracks because of limited pedagogical tracts

So lets solder a forceful brunt against the senseless regalia of modern omphalos and return to the plenipotentiary fields of resourceful human inquiry into the chagrins outmoded by convenience but amplified in vociferation by the prosthetic extension of a grangull humanity outfoxing itself into a zugzwang inevitable in the future with collateral losses because of senseless invidiousness orchestrated by the immiscible dermatology of divisive facts often about race and ineluctable tax

We conclude with the optimism that refineries become gentrified by the superlunary squadrons who bask in beatific beams of anonymity and that the pollution preceding our evolution is just adventitious rather than central to the amelioration of wavy screens ennobling so many upstarts to teach themselves the majesty of lucid dreams and to capitalize on ludic ideals divorced from the urchins of radical idealisms that ironically poach rarefied air with smug pollution of narrative scares

Without trepidation we can muster the largesse of civility to create a progeny that has a recursive progeny of heirs that defiantly imagine a world bereft of specters of the soporific imagination enforced by the lapidation of insight from termagants who stride with ursine acrimony naked bare and envision a global meliorism that is careful, picaresque, pragmatic and filled with meritocratic care

With those ornaments of an aureate measure in mind


We leap beyond the enumerated infinity in time's proper design

i really don't know how this is a connected,
but somehow it is,
you drink a few ms. ambers and
your mind just turns into an armchair,
you can unwind,
send the serpent of a tongue
into the garden and watch the show...

the original thought begins with an old
pet peeve...
   the argument...
   what was it?
  ah!
          why so much evil in the world,
and so little if any divine intervention...
can you imagine the sort of
hellish world that would be,
this, zoo?
                     why i believe in free will?
well... i don't believe in
divine intervention...
   however horrid, divine intervention
is "missing", i guess,
simply because we're supposed to
live out all our potential...
however that might be...
             the heavenly has to dance
with the macabre,
   the man with the woman,
      
an atypical argument by the sophists...
why doesn't god intervene
when bad things happen to good people?
do you want to look at
the zenith of being given freedom
to do either evil, or good...
and not be judged in the act of doing
so? you don't want this freedom,
because some magical entity doesn't
intervene?
   then you'd have a case for the non-existence
of free will...

****... did i really elevate myself
to such theological claims? guess so...
catholic education,
   i wasn't going to completely free from
the religious debate...
but that's beside the point...

the first Bukowski book i read,
i bought in Glasgow on one my psychotic
outings...
what matters most is how well
you walk through the fire...
i bought it because of but one poem...
it begins
   sometimes there's a crazy one in the street.
he lifts his feet carefully as he walks.
he ponder the mystery
of his own ****.
- and ends with
when you see a crazy one walking
in the street
honor him but
leave him alone.
    there's no luck like that luck
nothing so perfect in the world
let him walk untouched
remember that Christ was also insane..
while in between?
the line...
  the sane are too numerous...

but this ties in to another poem
(that one was called insanity)...
i sometimes think:
and my, my my,
what a fine way to exfoliate
the emphasis of punctuation,
but breaking lines so much...
point being, there's an upper tier
of punctuation,
primarily associated with the philosophy
genre...
and no... don't even try to read
philosophy book like you might
read a piece of journalism
from a newspaper...
  3 years to complete Kant's
critique of pure reason...
believe me, you can have your fictive
novel breezing through moment
when Kant writes out
  a schematic for transcendental
methodology... that bit is easy...
but you can't exactly read Kant
in 3 weeks, and subsequently spew
the content, or rather, plagiarize
it, hiding behind schematics,
and the obvious a priori / a posteriori
categorizations...
well... unless you're a college
philosophy professor,
and much akin to a news anchor ditto-head...
then yeah... plagiarism is the way
to go...

you know what elevated punctuation
looks like?
   you read a snippet of a philosophy
book, you'd be lucky to read a chapter
in a day...
   thinking... thinking is the over-arching
punctuation from your casual punctuation
already imbedded in the script...
thinking does the punctuation
when reading this genre of books...

but it dawned on me...
aphorism XXXII, pondering(s) VIII...
just one sentence...
  (i favor Heidegger?
because he favored poets)...
             poetißing and thinking enter
into an essentially transformed,
incalculable relation.
     when & how both become manifest
as da-sein with self-altering beings,
without publicly existing and "operating".

this immediately brought be back
to a Bukowski poem,
    the last poetry reading...
****... that's not it...
it's not even captain goodwine...
whatever the poem is...
it reads something akin to:

   you're an entertainer now...

that's what i steer away from,
  indicating that these words require
a stage presence,
an oratory valor...
   a performance,
     no public performance,
no freedom of speech *******...
    no speaker's corner manifesto...

            i already signed up to the ontological
motto of...
   cogitans qua esse per se...
thinking as being, being in itself...
the fact that i might leave my mind
and instead morph it into a waggling
tongue on a stage...
the fact that these words could
make public office,
and even be deemed as, "operational"...
not so much petrifies me...
but...
               disgruntles me...
   disincentivizes me...

  after all... i've noticed this...
once you start performing?
your repertoire suffers...
                   like all artists...
the moment you become confident with
your poetry via its public
reception,
   your creativity, your virility,
your fertility succumbing to new ideas,
drastically diminishes,
i've watch countless poetry
performers...
"poets"...
     with a repertoire of... 10 poems?
maybe even less...
   they start performing,
they stop exploring...
   when poetry is bound to the high
court of silence,
yet becomes visible phonetic encoding,
like... like I.T.,
signs, symbols emerge,
but there is no sound to be heard...
when no one is being entertained,
it expands...
        come to think of it...
Heidegger is quiet right...
     poetry has more to do with
philosophy than it has to do with
rhetoric, oration, sophistry,
   or Sophocles... to specify...
            poetry is about "speaking"
the truth...
   but who the hell, in public...
will speak themselves,
  speak the truth?
              let us leave that to the actors...
who... imagine themselves speaking
a truth, but certainly, not their truth,
the truth...

i want to be as close
to cogitans qua, esse as much as possible:
or rather...
cogitans qua loquitur,
   ergo loquitur qua cogitans,
qua, esse, qua est omni illud;
   (thinking as being talking,
therefore talking as being thinking,
as being, being, as being all that is).

p.s. well, yeah,
poet-thinker or poet-entertainer...
i don't need a freedom
to speak, i need a free to think,
and when i equate
thinking as speaking,
but i write,
rather than speak...
      see the comments sections
for more details...
if you "think" that this is
"talking".

The season of beauty
Has finally come to stay,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’

Never has nature begotten
Such a pure sense of
An African beauty,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’,

Questioning thy true beauty
Has placed me on the known,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’,

Show me all
That thou can,
So I can perceive
And conceive thy
True seasonal countenance,

But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’

Oh no, the days of
My love life is
Blinking on a fast
Lane for thy taste,

But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’,

Is the length of my
Dying days untamable by
Thy faithful jewels?

But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’

Ah! The glorious sensitivity in
The moon-like eyeballs
Of thee, has imprisoned
My reasoning power,

But he wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’

I hope thou may fall
On my waiting lips,
Though I cannot have thee,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’,

My heart is bleeding in pain,
For posterity may not live to
Behold thy true beauty,

But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’

I do remember thy
Precious name very well,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’

Accepting the sophistry
Of thy symbolic hips
Under the Kente cloth
Has been an axiom,

But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’

Now I know, that
The echoes of the Gods
Do not tremble
Over thy beauty alone,

But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Achimota’.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com

.you do know that the light emanating from the moon, at night, absorbs the clarity of relevance when you're squinting your eye... of a camel absorbing the light of the sun, in a desert storm of gushing winds... the moonlight become shrapnel... but a distinct ray of light, passes the eye, and penetrates your forehead... as if... the travel of light... bends much more than time... squint your eye when looking at the moon, the uttermost tier of moonlight shrapnel... it misses the eyes... and heads straight to the forehead; funny, eh?

dude... i heard that before, white dude?
that's new...
only Lebowski is a, "dude" aged
over 40...
         me? readied for the wrinkly old
man...
        and it's not Lay-bouw-skee...
               *******...
                               Le-bov-skí -
tightening longbow men's tugs of war,
strings, ****...
  a job for a semi-glad tailor...
playing the violin or shooting
a bow?
                     ah... ah! that's what was
the problem!
          the modern man is just as afraid
as the ancient Greek with
regards to expressing a dialectics...
mind you...
um...
            modern technology?
****... sorry... but this is actually
accurate...
       a "public" debate...
no bench, no park, what the ****
is public about it?
             i couldn't give a **** about
free speech,
i'm a tier above the argument for
free speech,
  me? i care much more for dialectics...
which counter rhetoric...
which counters speaking freely,
or as freely as freedom "demands"...
see...what i find...
free speech that exists in an
echo chamber,
a free speech without
a dialectical engagement...
no... the comment sections
do not count:
i never left any, or if i left any
they're complimentary...
because?
   now... why would i find it necessary
to troll someone,
when i have no reason to do so?
just for the per se?!
just for the per se reasons?!
**** that...
                 it has become a ****-show
of pseudo-solipsistic "dialectics"...
oh... look    a hyphenated word
and "air" quotes...
                        -    "      "
kinda looks like Braille...

                   free speech is one thing,
but engaging in dialectics, another...
right now i'm spewing opinions
that are not defended by dialectics:
i.e. counters...
     but rather...  solipsism...

              there is no modern "dialectics"...
there is simply a pulverizing overt-presence
of sophistry,
again the rhetoric,
  again the rhetoric,
again the rhetoric...

       me? i don't require myself to
the avowal of speaking in public...
         i'm not the one for constitution market
of ideas to become dogma...
but let's face it...
freedom of speech is one thing,
but what counter a freedom
of speech is...
isn't freedom of speech simply
a monologue?
    can't that be wholly internalized?

the critique comes with the concerns
for dialogue...
a dialectic...
           hell, speak whatever the hell
you want...
            but that isn't the point,
the point is, the ability to entertain
a dialogue, a dialectic,
an intellectual boxing match...
it's no good exploring being offensive
by being offensive
in the ideological ring with
a lax on using boxing gloves...

        did sports take over our
perceptions?
   and kissing our middle-man
point of exit for talking out
our differences?
   what the **** happened?

dialectics has died, a boring death
worthy of: in his sleep, aged 84...
if we can rekindle the basis of
dialectics, replace the, "moderator"
with a simple park bench...
     you'll be me...
talking about bicycles,
grand-children, and drinking
alcohol in public with some
retired cockerel...

                 who's old age...
bred an insomnia he's trying to wake
from, by dying.

no... this is not a war against
free speech...
this is a war for free speech,
within the confines of dialectics,
an exercise of...
    why?
      free speech presumes
the posit of undefended opinions...
unchallenged opinions...
oh i'm pretty sure...
      with however many comment
section narratives...
everyone's sheepishly nodding
along...
              
i abhor the case for a "freedom of speech"...
here's my posit:
i am complying with a defense
for dialectics...
which implies a freedom to speak,
but also a freedom to counter,
subsequently begging for a debate /
a resolve / a momentum of what
will forever be known as: forward /
the cyclic ontology of time.

we're all bound to solipsistic / cyclops
echo-chambers of opinions,
whether challenged, or unchallenged,
rarely discussed within the confines
of the canvas of civility...
when the civilians become more
militant than the actual soldiers...
    that's the problem of the citizen stature...
not all civilians are citizens...
some civilians are counter-productive
to the status of citizen...
British Muslims are civilians...
but with their views?
              they're not citizens...
given they're also militarily subversive
of the status: civilian...
hence... hence?! home-grown terrorists!
what?! the status quo asked
me to refine nouns...
     and pronouns...
                  my hands are tied...
              something hits me,
i react by hitting it back...
i.e. this language... in the wrong heads,
mouths, tongues, hands.

p.s.
   oi! white western girl!
"dude" my *** the next time you see me;
savvy?
don't worry... hand does the same
as ****; i don't know,
but i'm sure of the same firm cavity.

Just your regular Friday.
Trapped in a poorly lit elevator
with three other strangers.

The only things they have in common are that
they’re all wearing red shoes,
and that they’re all going up.
Everyone is listening to their own music -
a weird mix of
rap, rock, indie and folk
that sounds great played in the same time.

No one knows where they’ll get off the elevator,
at what storey, nor if they’ll take a left or right afterwards.
It’s all a mystery.

The first couple of floors pass easily,
maybe someone even cracks a joke
or makes a funny comment
and they all smile at their mirror reflection.

Suddenly, the elevator clutches between floors
and they get to see their faces for the first time.
They are mesmerized.
Although they have nothing in common besides the red shoes,
They feel as if they are doppelgangers on the inside;

They wake up in each-other’s heads
and it all feels comfortable for a while,
The chairs are cosy and the food is great!

The mirrors disappear and they start to see the world from above.
they realise that there’s no insurance,
and that they’re suspended in mid-air,
half way between the earth and the sky,
a band of unknown,
4 complete strangers,
everyone trying to act cool,
posing for an imaginary sub-genre cover album photo,
that no one will get to listen to.

Minutes pass and they become hours,
sky becomes sea
and clouds vanish.
They get tired of looking out the window
and all the windows look tired of looking out of them.

Someone finds a door and opens it.
He looks at the others, waves, then jumps.
They’ll never know if he drowned,
got burned in the atmosphere or
ended up on the good side
of the freshly buttered toast.


One of the remaining three starts taking selfies,
Smiling at his virtual image,
not being bothered at all
that the image doesn’t smile back,
being convinced that, in this way,
he’s slowly becoming part of a special form of theatre,
with a smiling/sad face construction,
a bipolar bear with
the heart of an eagle.

The second one starts writing nervously on the walls;
endless lines of pathetic reality;
a combination of feelings, lies,
email passwords,
social media security questions
and lots and lots of sophistry…
everything intended to serve as a rock-solid personal legacy
after the elevator’s presumed crash.

The third one gets locked in his own head,
carefully observing all of them,
gazing in the blank,
with his headphones still in his ears,
but with no music on,
no plan in his mind,
no clean underwear,
no purpose at the end of the journey,
no solution,
no answer for any of the police’s questions,
trapped in an elevator
like a great idea in somebody’s head,
in a brain crack situation.

He is all alone,
humming sad chick tunes,
slowly losing his wit and grit.

The elevator walls reappear,
and he is now going up again,
by himself,
slowly,
surrounded by three pairs of red shoes
that were made for walking,
but are now
floating around the universe,
half-way between God and Darwin.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ypofGDdHpo

Your cruel words are cursory
Mean less than null to me

Don’t need a PhD
Learnt more in nursery

Sweet song of ‘helping me’
No more than sophistry

Pick out the forgery
Lies with no artistry

Flowing in, eyeless grin
Sugary medicine

Gaslighting, infighting
Snarl under strobe-lighting

Saccharine blathering
Indolent flattering

Backhanded compliments
Heard without inner sense

I reject totally
Self-slighting sorcery

Callous affrontery
Bankrupting bursary

I have observed more
Preserved more

Have learned more
Deserve more

Have value
Don't argue

Can trust me
I must be

Enough being
just, me

So hear me,
my dear me,
coz now we agree

I am worthy

Septuagint prince scribing on scrivello detail
Emerges from the frogmarch grave of revenants sheepish about ghoulish masquerade
The tribes whittle puckered shibboleths and charismatic vengeance evades
The henpeck of roosters harmonizing sand into grassy knolls of carapace cathedral light
Walks beyond the whimsical despair the conniving conservatories of manufactured fright
Spurned by smokestack confusion above a plastered reconnaissance of abundant life flocking between small awakenings curtailed by fulgurant swelters of blistering white
The spectral dance assumes primordial shades to dampen the windowed elegance of betrayal complicit in the haze
Mojo’s rise and fall with moonshot decades flashing intimacy lived twice barking like a squelched gyrovague relishing the kantikoys of burlesque night
And yet among the bemused stars unbuttoned by the prolixity of the Russia ruse the smear indelible flaunts with decadence in the pleonasm of sluggish articles of flight
How long must the messianic age shelter the nebbich halls of crambazzled piety in science to an upbringing of oligochrome
How many dastardly wernaggles of the rusticated elitism flomp with desultory banquets reminiscent of boiling Rome
Incinerated in an ageless day revived only after a historic lapse of barbarity in the ferule exacted such immeasurable despair
That the prejudice of pride is forever shelved as redundant because the filigrees of geometry only permit curvature in flatness
Convex movements captured in still-framed pillories refract nothing but Blazing Saddles of a caricature full-bloom sun
Yet we marvel at storybook ghosts and the isangelous carapace of marauding instincts forever brave and encaged
Erratic by delivery but sciamachy knows no identifiable age
Scrawny fossarians dig entrenched charnels voraginous with skeletons of brackish regelation enthused by immemorial decay
Must we abridge a hearty ocean in a month’s sublime regaled design of trespasses of unsung heyday spaying its weakest defrocked knight
Armed to the Teeth we seek the terminus of apocalyptic capsules destined for gluttons braving annihilation in the vacuum of orbital planes plain only to the ken of the keenest sight
No we make no petitions in prayer for this Soft Parade of vigor verging on flair
We ransack littoral virtues in nexility bronzed with Stayin’ Alive shoes in remission of staircase blight
Beamish in beatitudes of milquetoast pregnancies of salted Matzah brimming in the yeasts of cesspool emergent from scarecrow metaphors flagrant hauteur gliding on air
Witness the spearhead of revolution in the metagnomy of oracular aubades to future brimstone caverns
Lurking like counterstrokes in revision blackguarded by the feisty prowl of outpaced labtebricole whipsaws of timber readied into foisted brown-brick comestion of elegant emerald errors
Dancing with galactic improvidence concealed by the rigor of lurched liars enthroned with prerogatives of stain-glass adumbration
We parcel up parsecs because clairvoyance among titans is a swank in need of 20/08 visions spectral in the clouds of all prominent registries of memory
Lost to faint delicacies of swift serpents outlasting gnats in the tabernacles of ribald ecbolic promontories on the verge of futile tomorrow pastimes spinsters flummox with slimmerback rigmarole flanged by whinks and escorted by the maskirovka of positive bears in absolute value alone
Yet Enola Gay found its destruction profitable to hominist lore enough to attenuate its evaporation of suffrage in the glint of pervasive remedies to stranded gore
Embanked on the sidelines of conquistador flaunts that a Titanic missive of classy regard found the damsel at the steerage slipping on zalkengur irony the anticlimax of lore
Traipsing fellowship of many a ring is a phony artifice for an ostentation that bellows so loudly when isolated perjury must not whimper but sing
The loudest plaudits afforded to a parallax incumbent white horse in the shadow of Dark Horse occultism a barbed flying wing of the West becoming the king of behest
Scurrilous are many jeers because their similes are baseline just as much as the storged conglomerate behind ensnared rapture looming with less ecstasy and blunt fear remains the kilmarge of simple foresight wrinkled behind the sum of many tears
We await our Creator’s Throne insuperable even with the blandishment of piecemeal craters that are superlative bolides of the weirdest attenuated into the spectrum of eldritch weird
Yet the riches of hobohemia found in “invisible lockets” worn by the travesty of jerseys measuring up to Roadhouse beer
The cartels of citadel cascades built on mountebank fortunes reaped from venal psephology collectively embody the unconscious gamut of javelin cloaks of sardonic sneer
Threnodies written long ago in the Hidden Tracks of sophistry welcome the intermissions of antiquity abridging the donnybrooks of charlatans bossed around by facetious gibes of manicured belletrist humid enough that evaporation itself of rarefied tabacosis has few if any peers
Yet the peerless sketch thrombosis in the oxygeusia of deceptive schadenfreude only to topple jengadangles that glabrous gravity muscles to barely if it all steer
In a vacant reality eager for surrealist bounty the sidereal question of moribund placards supplanted by vibrant living semaphores fixates upon figments of acatalepsy rather than ruddy enumerations of partition despite beloved chalky rudiments filibustering with courtesy rather than jeer
Amicable are ravenous betrayals for chieftains cloffined by warm sapwood integral to equated tantamount mountains festooning firmaments in quaffed delights rigid and keen
The most welcomed blasphemy fragrant with jejune originality celluloid enamors splenetic with sprees of perishable profanity lurking ever more obscene
Regaled in the modest jostle is the forsifamiliation of heterodyne dins of honest applause from the blackguarded periphery among which there are no visible beacons no visible stars
Scarred by diacope enumerated in prescient revelry the trollops of tune and attunement magnetize a riveting weld of seamless geometry that is permeable to ineffable lychgates both porous with prowess and ajar against a golfer’s remediable par
Wizened ghosts flirt with tucked bushes in the forlorn deserts jolted by oasis and flagrant with confection torn asunder by wide-eyed gallantry skipping stones on ataraxia from a distraught afar
That lake of goldmines is scattershot with limey limelight squandered on profligate wrikponds of propinquity but not prolixity in scores and bounties of exoticism in glaikery’s fugitive charm
In proximity there is usucaption but the usufruct of sustainable obelisks to liberty must have the forbearance to bear many witnessed eyes to the Right to Bear Arms
Skirmishes of benighted fracking obsolescence ragged with vitriol and poison-ivy nostalgia flaunt the bromides of algedonic flash over consequences that many disregard
Spiraling with vertiginous pain the scowl of obligation is both seamstress of emblazoned effronteries and the proper reflection of seasoned but not seasonable garb
This barbed quandary riddled with rapacious tendency mixed with myopic bonhomie devours a rickety cacophony of diminutive scopes of ******’s glare to prove each atomic indivisible atrocity a carbonated fulmination heavily barbed
This is all why the killjoys monopolize their gangster vices behind tinted windows and chockablock morality are uxorious bridewells for the bridgewater of garbology sketched by vanity in the outrecuidance of gallionic chasms of an absolute value of firebrand regard
No difference does it make if the recoil is whimpered by hordes of sheep in pretenses of authenticity or whether decapitated delopes emerge from visagist dacoitage snuffed like flavors orbiting self-injury by clockwork towers apace to outlast tertiary bribes for secondary bards
The atocia of freckles in recognition of frail pinnacles summited by daily alpine dilettantist dualisms of polarity are a gullywasher to cleanse and launder indelible regrets carved by aboriginal pottery to memorialize primordial penury
As the slick oleaginous tilts of wicked smart Northeasters swarm the hindsight of Southern Weather afflicted by tempests beleaguered first on recapitulations of Calvary and then deposited evidence upon bourgeoisie
Fumes of the modest flambeaus torching sunken apostasies of hungry spasms of the wind meeting the brusque celerity of the ribald waves rarely etch sublime hint in etch-a-sketch lapses of untimely mobility
Instead that perspicacity of conservatory silence bludgeons Lisbon in the fright before the fall of so many a Phoenix in a foreign land can bear the assaults of the heaved seas
Lambent upon a craggy regularity extinguished by sentinels of the tattered womb for a grimace of prestige by primipara seduction we find no justice of known and knowable terminal disease
Figurative in spoken wisps that predate evaporated concepts of precipitous time the triumph of exalted adoration belongs to hubris but vacant of the prideful decline of crime
To each outspoken verve witnessed on sublunary turf the absolution is nearer to fertility than the craggy soil is to dirt as blemished prowess is a furlough to the sensitive pink tucked manifold beneath each authentic skirt
Liberated by ophelimity but flexed by vicarious pomp in serenade only of hauteur for the hottest we slice and dice a cavern of temptations regardless of enumerated patterns of clearly lopsided dice
We think we live and die but You Only Live Twice in ******* to the oriental bolides of meteoric meteorology preeminent in governing plantations of rice
In jubilant proclamation, I graft from venereal skin a renewed girth of purpose that all enchanted fantasia is a birthright of pleasure more than a vapid drawl of purpose
Glitter bores the scintillation of a denuded naked glory of gore because intimacy is antecedent and consequent to immovable revolutionary procreation of service
To conclude this homily the apothecary in persiflage renounces the role of kilns in both poverty and pottery because his shaken dreams are yelps of a disgusted ornery camaraderie
Listless by oracular dreams of titanic parvenus immune to the sway of tentative croons of Suburban Muse because the grisly subversion of vetust honor that honors not verdict but version of ghastly spools of flimsy epitaphs and not the paragon surgeon is the downfall of a diatribe of petty men
Littering their taradiddles on owleries in overclocked jaundice drowning for purpose among hatcheries of the privvy roosters that own the consequence of audacious pens
Dodgy in interrogation, flummoxed with deracination, isolated by time for time’s recapitulation of surrender in katzenjammer vibes it is time for gossamer servant surfers to borrow nine and hang ten
But the noose of the wednongue nun specializes in puritanical Model Ts for DeLoreans trendsetting years ago because listless lethargy benights the glory that cineastes already won
Teeming on the brink of tomorrow is the progeny of hopeless yesteryear engraved on the iconoclasm of the weak after the next debacle because the Earth after Christ has already borne a Ton
Liturgies revised to reflect corsair trigonometry aimed forever at zephyrs of plight bathe in July 3rd infamy doctored by Generators and Generations before and beyond Walter White menacing the saber with imperious might
Flowered in the nuisance of death is the womb of the arena participant to infinite relapses of contention gladiatorial only when the shunamitism of shanachies sheds serpentine grit for the blench of ligonies of redoubled sight
Towering from the knave inferno of a tramontane elusive cordial imitation of captive citizens of attentive sites the illusion is the vanguard of centuries guarded gingerly by Canada Dry sprites
Rollicking in vehement magpiety attuned to machismo if marginally the sultry philander of naked ruse medicates the charmed Apache Indian on his brief encounters with limousine cruise
Stark in sunken destination glimpsing coal-fire recursive ironies the cloned subversion is a golden calf so effete because it never moos about instinctual muse relegated by twin terrors riddled with sparkplug truce
Limited by scopes enlarged by scales mired in funereal pyres to rigmarole sensationalism worthy of nativist coercion and pivoted lyres the riddle of terminus remains an acquiescent scoff, cough and quaff that never expires
It reaches planetary dread of vast distances regaled against gambits of the spread so the richest sourdough appeases the riper vipers of the nested bed
Recalcitrant with frugal uxorious creed the leader of esquivalience is the headless horseman of innumerable tractions but no mouth to feed
He digests the gallop of the gallant interregnum specious in caitiff ploys and the recessive allele of commiserations against the piety of apolaustic joy because rambunctious speed always attracts a resignation professed from the tailspin of a crass voyage of ludic greed
Tricksters boast of passionate lubrications of finessed bread recocted from useless toasts glowering with insipid pallor as heat and humidity reckon billows of hype congregated more in cisterns of apostasy for remark than a marksman headshot of a Head Hunter wed tightly to a pregnable visions of proactive Ghost
Recidivism and time have a vendetta against verdant drolleries coated by waxen plenilune accordions rampant with polyacoustic rhymes
The tridents of mercurial weather bent on the ineffable vacillations of whether are the brazen opponent of Sterling fatherhood of life’s only father the clockwork animation of a living patronage of eternal existence cobbled from immutable time
To the glory of the Father the sun shades its whimpers and the moon alights as the frontispiece of nocturnal revisions to the New York Times but the hues of rocketed ingenuity coax the ingratiated few to the laureates of genius reckoned with both designation and superlative artifacts of pristine design
Haunted by Green-Light Politics for Greener-Eyed Ladies masquerading in star-crossed tomes of existential dread of lollygagged playful mischief tucked in the coach as he leads his team with sophrosyne feel-good invictive treacle we witness the fumiducts of fortune blitzing Hail Mary contrition with earnest specialty in defense of offensive precision
Games won by the squirrel are outnumbered by the stars in the heavens flagrantly devoid of specialized electricity enough to encapsulate the ommateum of collectivized insights found only in the most evolved sequence of cell division
Incarcerated by the scrappy schlep of bad beats and bronzed chariots roiled by the momentum of angular spears we seek oracular transcendence that cements decades into the span of days that portend the deliverance of future years from past and present fears
Presiding as proctor in the redacted exoneration of crash-course pilots glowering with the effluvium of recensed perdition the heyday of one becomes the mayday of anarchy tested only by the alacrity of the summation of its beloved yet maligned cheers
Against a prosperity hard-won by earnest husbandry commandeered by gammerstang notoriety spawning the recrimination of star power into centupled peers negligent of zero-sum opinionation wagered by Country Club fraternities embedded in the taxonomy of wilted hackumber for hegiras minimized by outcry but cemented by Dear Johns’ twinged with sultry pleonexia in taxed tears
So with the whipsaw of the individual between the collective funnel and the idiosyncratic insubordination that amplifies outcry galvanized throes of insemination built on cross-pollination is melliferous to a pretense of alchemy outstretched to sidereal wonder
Hardest to guess is intimacy clothed in Platonic virtues crumbling because puritanical pilgrimage is appraised as a joyous thunder for a abnegation from all potential blunders
To wager such a life is a depredation of the abundance that John breathes as a ceremonial birthright cast aside by latent regrets stampeding the realm of nosocomial reflections of the pallor of a lurid squander
So we are left to bemuse the decrepit bodewash of realism taken to such a virulent extreme it leaves few artifacts of nostalgia to croon about and ponder and fewer abstractions to yield to manicures of elegant troponder
Diminutive sinews in the intertesselations of heft profess a fidelity of notoriety carving life before and after death
Unsung by the beadledom of the usucaption of exotic tailored musician brutes upon my landlocked assault of chryselephantine usufruct I lampoon nescience as it lurks in murky graveyards of anoegenetic zombies covered in thick pigments of piggish soot
Yet this fuliginous bronteum of warped clarity transfixed by the ulterior wednongues of atrocious spans of provenance jilting providence makes betting interests of rivalry outcomes harder to win earnest roots
The trees of the gamboled skittish resignation of checkered blinks obscuring the curtailed discernment of bedizened slogans of future campaigns yet distasteful in ornery churning the bootstrapped tie their tethered laces to their acquired boots
Barnstorming through afflicted spandrels of abeyance shepherded by notions of public dereliction by imperium of centrobaric centripetal philters of concubine rhymes I surge beneath cordial flonky redhibition because of redshorts in estimable traction cemented by supernal design
Weak in luster my potent pollination for synergistic aplomb evades the fringe of corrugated affections mounted upon quixotic escapades of jockeyed statistics flourishing by reticence rather than frazzling the prolix emulation filibustering the mundane ignorance but garnering the harvest of the plevisable sequence from prime to prime indivisible by liberty alone or complicit with cadence sublime
Finishing the sermons of modern apostasy to a gallant cause my laments outnumber the muzzles belonging to the quorum of begrudged applause in the rawest spectacle of unheralded genius clawing insistently at the heart of electric gravity
The nuances of plausible nuisance bicker in emerald harlots of the tantamount nature of derelict frikmag to calculated prosodemic solidarity around insanity because the vein of the golden ore should see ivoride as nullification and inanity
We all stoop on counterfeit stencils of pretense hearkening a clairvoyant sun to droop for closer inspection but detective remonstrance is outmoded by dreary witless defections
Thus the drawl scrawled by the genius flonky in gadzookerie but gilded in rhapsodies of ineffable cadence fighting orthodoxy to a relegated draw sketches the outline of the special talents of lying claws
Because stipulated in the vast oversight that predicates reprisals of retches glazing in obtuse effronteries with eccedentesiast odontoloxia we witness the corrosion of race and gender into pontificating audits of nomadic treason in a fortress militarized by niche applause
Trickling from repcrevel faucets implicit degradation is a casual casualty of an abbreviated motive gestured in ponderous stupidity to distract abiding legislation into the giggled gaggle of tinsellated glitter
Fatuous by vacuums of gaudy prizes worthy only of token motions rather than locomotive strains of virulent and compassionate respect lapsed on vigors of vehement regret is a sing-song ridicule of a still-framed pillory erected as the obstacle that gouges the riddles of impediment and deprives the luxury of preferential emolument siphoned off to lurid jeers of mockery propaganda sizzling in the cauldrons of tilted marginalization
So we witness the faded declension of the hubris of fair-weather camaraderie as a flux dispersal of invidious buoyant bloviated streaks of temporal grit into inverted revelry never shared by the proper ubiquity of streams of personal recompense for plodding fragments of invasion
If I veer away from bickering cackles of denounced preeminence swiveled to face the shadows upon the great cavern of insuperable bounds of fickle human ignorance I deplore the vaunted toadies that shrink my shadow and diminish my viable conceptual and vibrant footprints
Few extinct creatures know the annihilation of petty fame quaffed on Whiskey Bars I never met because the insipid banal pleonasms of restructured irony grimace at my complexion as the scent of the game alerts the foibles of a champion begotten once before as a shark-tank prince
Livid is my grief in the aborning moral quandary of sunken priority overlapping with piebald skeumorphs of retches of blinkered allegiance faltering prior to the primary day of my true awakening because the completion of nesiote subterfuge  rusts on creaky hinges of noncommittal regressions of pointed but pointless deluge
I spar with the augury of irrelevance with a five-pointed star bequeathing rigid but plentiful provision to assist with more than a petty dime of tithe to a 20/20 flash of perfect prescience and hallowed vision
The eve of all destruction is the lollygag of subordinate squawks redacting convenient priorities on the slowpoke walks through teenage immaturity found in the infamous “talk” that the world is governed by evasion in supremacy rather than by the bywords of the perennial stocks in sublime stalks
This nation perishes with my visionary clarity because the bifocal constraints of delimited defenestration remands my custody beneath ****** upheaval documented by useless historians of deliberation in gaffe and ammunition for agitprop flickering away the aubades of praise for the stilted pretense of sclerotic values inflexible to authorship thus scuttled by crowdsourced dictatorship
How sad a spate that the welters of sciamachy hide behind the glaring shadow of immeasurable genius for an unwarranted earwig to steal the echoes of my thunder and poison the servitude of the minions to companionship to highlight aggrieved infamy over walloping feats of refrain found in an isolated rather than protracted celebrity
The guilt of the reproachable beams through the frikmag of tyrannical bouts of circular wernaggle as I carve spherical reckoning that outstretches in all viable directions so that “The Mailman” and the Male Man both succeed in historic insurrection
Flashy benumbed brutish ferules of ferocious dainty dances with an arbitrary cage highlighted among a voiceless heyday for an auditorium which perceives insanity more dangerous than inanity is a profane stipulation by wrinkled mediagenic hubris which scours planetary limitations for excuse to recourse and recourse to excuse
We find marvels in subtlety finicky on the apothegms of heterochrony divergent even further from syndication as the regimented nuances of abuse become plucky daredevils that cozen robust vital sapwood from anglers seizing by seizure the roundabout logic of the innumerable minority characterized forever obtuse
I writhe in delicate contortions of flexed directional bypass surmounting orthodromic velocities capering with the anenometers that spar against spangled enthusiasm only to become an anointed slave of the flagging moral resolve fulminating a huffed crusade with silentiums of false asylum for true achievement brusque against any resourceful tempest scurrying the hidebound illusion of pandemonium for scrappy shenanigans of vergers and emptied pews griping with the dearth of the day-to-day despite the known tomorrow
We cannot affix primary focus upon constellated wasms of puckered abstention borrowed from a maskirovka of secret hedonism wed to many vices among wives but deprived of sacrosanct remuneration for abiding expenses yet an atoll upon a continent decisive in its aborning revolution
Ribald wiseacres of a jovial dismay flanged on rectiserial exaggerations of sebastomania is a stranded frigate of a fugitive escapism wandering with nomadic insistence against cosseted blackguard of assertion without plenipotentiary verdicts against the suborned crater of overstated flimsy truculence in sardonic dissolution
In trespass of a reservation of recoiled tender of tutelage proctoring unseemly haggardly refuse to creak into noisome and noisy cacophony armed by centurions of merciless scorn that lackadaisical winter belies the meteoric riches of autumn mainour fungible with the retches of remorseful decay dangling retreat above entreaty for exasperated wednongues lacking curiosity or the backbite of counterfeit engastrimyths seeding an unknowing complicity to fallacy forked over by chiefs and chefs to an amounted dubiety reserves the armaments of glib sedition for inopportune blacklists by a whitewashed Listerine amenable to launder travestime into oversight rather than belabor banal graft upon the agelasts of a toilsome operose labor to trivialize Herculean monuments to creativity as backwater residence of restive plucky percurrent revivals of infamy as a primary thorn rather than a secondary abreaction
Sentinels swift to the expedited squalor intrepid in sclerotic simpers of renowned defalcation bludgeoned by the tridents of harmonized trauma healing the brayed complaint while regaining the quixotic statute of plevisable mobility belongs to the froward counterpunch to the flippant underminnow of savagery yet among noble personage a blip on furloughs rather than a singed diacope perishing in Wasting Light for denuded darkness to supplant the vacated stage of ironic upbringing bartered from a treasury of obsolete wasms of trivial shadows in the amounted lineage of time.
Elected by the purblind fudged cadge of intransigent solidarity behind unhinged proclamations of lewd lunacy the reset of wibble-wabble and conflagrations of trenchant visibility will cloud the cloudiest tempest with hurricane-force devastation by the healing stripes of the piebald idiosyncrasy of gerrymandered defamation failing where insular regeneration outlasts hamartia and blinkered foibles of girouettism to pillory the excess but not transmogrify the whittled progress of seminal generativity unbounded by harped lyres of discord for secret concords of select femicide
With outstretched hands I point to the tapestry of the Heavens as eternal folksy witness that to endear the temperance of time bullishly roaring on the laureates of prolific servitude to the malleable substance of capered argument the enigmatic punctuation outweighs the baragnosis of miscreant opportune glares at personal prospect for aggrieved sockdolagers of redstrall over the filigrees of innate geometry to cackle above the shouted gnash and the dissoluble squirms of blackened cremation of living memories into insipid fracking of sapwood caitiffs flowing on the motion of discredit rather than honor in valuable endeavor for future genuflection
Totems value me as much as they stalk grazed hinderbaggle of cosmetic devolution of ragged popcorn theatrics in the desuetude of normative ethics beneath the carcass of rotten dastardly cowardice brandishing an ulterior discretion beneath the level of the lowest stoop of any breed founded on loyalty verging into flagrant snipers of integrity for the integral unshakable paragon of broad illumination the guidepost for many spectral truths overshadowed by one miserly fool flummoxing with albatross without the overhang  of pluvious integrity shepherding his hauteur in zig-zagged wallops rather than buoyant serenades
Thus entrenched in juicy poignant barricades against virulent spawn of the katzenjammers of squawking femicide I spout the blossom, bequeath the gift, renounce the delusion and form a formidable bastion against depredated valleys blemished from sight by intolerable patches of darkened verdure hiding from commonwealth perception the pearl of ecumenical salvation swimming in the naked tongues of honest profession dancing with conventional demarcated demerits of Rimbaud ramshackle deracination as a humdrum belittled squander of a prop of craven filibuster rather than beavers outsmarting the delignated destruction of habitat because of outright distaste for plucky individuation above the squalor of relativism in minor octaves of gnashed betrayal rigged by hamsters rather than owned by the men trigger-happy with rat race motivation only to the servitude of degrees rather than plausible recovery embedded into the fabric of fickle society
Hidebound tomes fishing for destruction but grappling with the enormity of the plagued pitfall of ceramic skirmish with brittle conscience emerge with epincion rather than sulk in brooded hyperbole of convenient drapes of flocks postulating irrelevance clearly in the light of the truest day frolicking with gigantic swaddles of curated support etching masterpieces of traipse into the frescades of future calenture beyond the petty misestimation of hemitery politics
Thus the weapon serves two masters of row rather than regatta and the besieged rankles the testy predicament to a teased poetry riveted by years of rhapsody rather than moments of tomfoolery emergent victorious rather than dilapidated by what-could-have-been chary brinkmanship on the precipice of modern sacrilege
To instruct the herds of men to hoard and the wisdom of the wise to circulate that apothegm of reclamation owns superlative traction fundamental to whimsical festivity even forsaken on a churlish masquerade outmantled by frenetic activity famigerated by the true Richter Scale of public fanfaronade because justice is truth and only in germane truth beyond germ scares will decrepit scarecrows demolish their Fear Factor even when the gullible squirm for nexility on bounded continents rather than novantique frontiers
Conscription demarches for assembly beyond relegation and celebrity above frays of discordant rumination feasting advenient rather than cherishing internal and integral the virtuoso wrabble of residue generations churning wheels of acceleration rather than quibbling extinguished vitality as principal complaint exercised in negligent abodes of facetious barnacles to outlandish freckles in the majestic pulchritude of a Titanic salvation beyond and considering the curglaff of sunken resources pitted to my registry by slot-machine audiences incognizant of brittle whittled henpecks of adoring truth and perdurable verve
We sink and die by destructive tongues but abide and live by righteous exemplary prowess capable of scraping the towering canvass of the firmament and the retches of the deepest sea inhabited by any curiosity worthy of emolument
So in token liturgy I decry sidelong cursory squandered affronts that drive the Jehus madcap with fractious celerities of formal destitution rampant on flonky menace rather than modern hypertrophy
In The End, we see triumph in every nuance and bristling concord with every perspiration of ennobled effort truckling into serrated selachostomous and fractious bromides of wrecking-ball fashionistas fumigating cultural pederasty with subtle bailiwick but ragged travesties of taxidermy celluloid
Marvel in-between the serenade and grandstand and cull the turnverein of triumph from banished evasive rundles of the outlasted calculus to neuter the estranged and to estrange the atocia of vibrant surreal vibes no stranger to an alien hand in a desolate world.

when the time comes, a drunk will speak
more sanity than a sane person is
capable of, then we'll be ripe to talk about insanity,
and incapable of "treating" it.

it's not really about the beard,
well, it sorta is...
i grew mine so i could fiddle with it...
which puts me in a position
where i say: violinist, in the classic fm
philharmonic!
i'm thankful that i was able to grow a beard,
no, not to look "trendy",
****! i was about to ditto in the word cool...
you never realise how much vogue
and indeed: fashion, gets invested in
when we're not talking about clothes
but about a person's vocabulary...
yep, so i'm 30 and have a beard:
or let's just say, ****** hair had the same texture
as ***** hair...
the gods are laughing,
how to discover exist, become so self-conscious
that you're able to tell a joke,
and then laugh back...
       that's why philosopher have beard,
you can just see it in them,
wait a minute: **** consistancy hairs
are growing on my chin!
  mortal have that poker hand ready
and waiting for the existence of gods,
   a Frankenstein momentum...
it's funny... so we just keep on enjoying ***...
   and the reason why i wasn't distraught
about the Fritzel case? i read
marquis de sade's ******* novella...
that doesn't mean i don't think about
       being a spec, a second in Hades' lava lamp
reincarnation flow... like we, really are:
recycled goods...
          laughing about it gives us armour...
reincarnation is so Hindi, i'm
about sport a bindi (that red dot on the forehead,
that macedonian wish we were **** with an
empire, shindig setting sun)...
you're the one talking to me in braille...
i'm  a half-wit trying to compensate the conversation
with an observation:
modern life looks like a revival, or an attempted
revival of the art of dialectics...
humanity is really trying to revive dialectics,
or as the platonic dialogues seem to suggest:
find the right enough of people...
find enough people to agree with you,
there's absolutely no mention of disagreement
in the platonic dialgues...
well... they're really monologues...
back to square 1...
                      it's hard to envision a dialogue
between people, it's even harder to stage
a dialogue, given that we'd have to
take to the art, or quasi-geometry...
and have to constatly fake it happening,
by faking it i mean acting as we really
cannot disregard our apathetic communion
toward the mere act of talking...
    dialectics is an art form... and it's begging to be
revived... but it seems to be failing in
an attempt to revive it...
                        everyone is just shouting
over each other, exchanging insults...
  joking... apparently comedy is trying to slow
things down, comedy is a pseudo-art-form
that's more arty than art itself, it's fartsy...
   who could have thought a **** (**** in polish means
luck) would ever make people laugh...
  we're all in the slaughterhouse askin idol guillotine
to: lay to rest, make ammends,
                say something, something profound,
if not prophetic.
              i just see a chat show host grappling
with an interviewee about how to engasge with
a dialectical art,
   we do live in very artistic times,
people call it minimalism,
they draw a square and you're expected to say
it's profound... because the art of dialectics
doesn't exactly agree to taking offence...
   it means retracting from the fictive monologue
of writing books...
it's a biblophobe movement...
        we're talking retraction,
we are saying: marriage doesn't do it for us anymore...
i'm trapped, in this world, and i have a stash
of 2000+ years of memory that i'm asked to
revise / improve on...
     you expect any different, from what i'm doing now?
people are in want of dialectics,
  they are bored of group therapy yoga....
and they're tired of being treated like
canned laughter... or an audience
with prompt cards they later don at political
rallies...
  like: when to laugh, followed by a t.v. editor
telling some minion: prompt the verb laugh
at an audience at a big brother show...
   i'm drunk, but i'm not stupid,
actually, being drunk and writing this makes
me ulta-conscious... i wouldn't say
intelligent... i think of myself as a sieve
most of the time... but you know, life, life gets
in the way and you sometimes a few
stupid mistakes, that you are thankful for.
i can't remember the last time i used
a dictionary... or a thesaurus...
       and i opened the fridge door about 100
times before i opened the front door...
and walked to the shop
where the cashier knows my name...
i'm like Bilbo Baggins who decided to stay
at home and said: ******* adventure!
i'm staying home and reading J. Joyce.
   we can't find dialectics, no more than we
can ask for a socrates real, by reading plato.
but it's nice that plato suggested that
philosophy could be theatre, i.e. staged,
made into a dialogue...
     just when we were bound and keen to
our sophistry, to our rhetoric,
and felt no emotional content could be bound
by mere talking...
     dialectics is a shade hanging over modernity,
i can't read a sun-dial with it hanging
over us... why art is so ritually minimalistic,
because this one art-form is missing...
no one is going to approach dialectics
is there isn't a real case for expressing empathy
and merely rooting it in: a need for comedy.
that halo-of-an-oasis is going to dry up...
(yes, written while under the medical care
of a headache... that **** is just lodged in my ****
and is teasing me... come out you little
cupcake, i'll flush you down the toilet, pronto!
or as the poles say it properly:
gówno przez ciebie gada / ****'s talking
through you... oh gladness, the oven bound parasite
booked for 37 degrees of the body's high-end
of temp.) -
but it's being staged as we speak,
   an art form, deviating from up-start and on the ready, go!
art of rhetoric...
               modernity is equipped with competent
talkers... persuasive and gnat-like annoying
with their provocations...
  what's missing is dialectics...
  how one side can question and become almost
mermaid... dragging someone into nodding
if not clapping approval...
      we can all agree that some people do talk
with the art opf rhetoric being almost
self-taught... ******...
                     dialectics is so much stranger...
it's an art of speaking that has become
      like a dusty moth infested ******
of a 80 year old nun...
                     she bakes great cookies though,
let her off.
               it's not that we're even having
these discussions, we're slobbering a chance of having
one with lies, shouting and "in your face"
dynamics... it's not even that we can
imitate plato enthralled by socrates, constantly
agreeing, going: aha, yup (nod nod nod,
******* pigeons)...
                    we positioned ourselves for the basis
of having to express hostility...
       because to have reached such a freedom
as we have, that we dare to call it: esteemed,
or highly regarded as in need of improvement,
or redefining.
  we seem to be unable to say why we
can't resurrect dialectics...
           all the talk-shows on a late friday night
will not answer that question...
     i'll spot the Halley's moment though...
a comet known as Hailey (hey! bruce lee)...
        when artists return to less abstract concerns,
we have all the science we'd need...
   can the arts stop contemplating new york
traffic grids, and ******* stops
and we return to celebrating the human form?
   it will really be something to see
dialectics... i.e. with one person so persuasive
that the other person doesn't argue...
    and i mean that as a concept anti despotism
without a massive throng of people doing
a political mantra chant of sheep, herd, approval.
it's like that question about consenting to ***,
that part of you that says: can i actually
think this?

12/30/2018

The eloquence of listless years is lost on heady overweening heels that submerge reality in a cavernous of oblique light shrouding the dark mysteries to come. Axiomatic but refractory we swim and tread danger and peril because the unsaid screams for awakening as the roosters outfox the owls and completely change history based on evil skullduggery that awaits the gainsay of titans compromised in security but elevated over the doldrums of quotidian thought. It is my solemn forbearance and consistent steadfast prayer for alacrity and industry to conquer the dudgeons of incurred opprobrium to clinch a beatific convivial festivity for a time-informed claque of leaders that delight in simplicity but dissemble their true disguise in open shark-infested waters. Salvage the impositions of the many and cull the best to anoint their favor on uncertainties improbable but likely as the discerning will master reality rather than be the dross of yesteryear. We swarm with importunate guilds of serfdom to surrender their edifice to the chiselers that operate and extravagate beyond bounds established by parochial priggishness that is a flagging patriotic insistence on drenched graft dank with the mildew of balkanization but not entirely as reproachable as some relics of the ancient law detest with misguided guile and paranoiac sophistry that is a precarious canker of otiose tastes drawling on with misinformed skepticism. The hounding gray in the pallor of alpenglow light ennobles the concatenations of wistful dread but at the same time esoteric flavor that enriches the emblazoned gallantry of the few to become the mainstay of all relevant considerations. Wish upon a coruscating menagerie of miscegenated aboriginal languages that have always abided in the shadows but exist in brevity among the elite coteries that coddle the world in its infancy away from the artifice of exegesis and the importunate placations of swarthy umbrageous shadows that exist apart from the factitious apartheid of race and gender. We must stand united as brethren enduring the tribulations of human vicissitude to abhor the diseased rhetoric of pandered puritanism amalgamated with aleatory financial alarmism calculated to swindle the dilapidation of penury that burns as a smoldering conflagration of concerted ignorance leading to ochlocratic determinism rather than a whispered percolated pedigree that drowns sorrows but simultaneously strands the pariahs of time in insular self-reflection unbecoming of an age that demands an importunate, ubiquitous and outspoken corporate altruism not superintended by a bloviated and tumescent dysnomy of congregated botched bureaucracies that encroach with a daunting donkey commandeered by headless horsemen who are only known by pennames and cognomens that flinch at the demise of their undeserved anonymity. We use valor as an instrument to prevent a scuttled vessel of a seaworthy humanity slinking along a very balmy coast as we await future instructions at the apropos time for a simpatico relegation of commercial collectivism. We expect instead a demassified world to enliven the dialectic of epistemology itself and renew covenants long ago moribund in their ragged and wretched desuetude that they may be vanquished as vestigial habiliments to the tatters of sloppy abnegation leading to a swollen piety that dares not to pretend but simultaneously believes so much in its pilloried hubris that it provides erasure for the secular enlightenment of a messianic time. Squalor and riddled eccentricity drive a brackish but saccharine attempt to homogenize the pastures that we graze upon but look no further than a bequeathed divine providence of smirks rather than the jibes of sneering ostentation. Whisper you fame rather than declaim against the arraignments of a scuttled pettifoggery of miscegenated justice that embroils foreign wineskins for domestic turmoil rather than the demotic enlightenment of the abrogation of inequitable laws that preserve the totemic dissolution of society rather than the prized ameliorative enlightenment of science informed by faith and faith beckoning the clerisy to seek supernal wisdom and furtive swank to reconnoiter the righteous and jettison renegades imploring for a piebald blinkered apostasy on a rudimentary subconscious level but never realizing their effrontery is gravid in a heedless ignorance interpolated by menacing secular hobgoblins that ransack barren treasure and cherish it as a trinket for a chrysocracy that is specious rather than veridical. Barnstorm for justice but appoint the abeyance of foolhardy prescience so that the enigmas of time can beckon their own deliverance through a culmination of waggish flickers rather than the kowtowed toadies of a quidnunc reality divorced from proper temperance outmoded but thriving among those that disavow newfangled foudroyant spectacles. Always and with alacrity indulge the gladiatorial sportsmanship of a zeitgeist beyond contention as the paragon for livid dreams and lurid imaginations to drive the mutiny against plebeian ears and purblind eyes. Live for the eternal present with providence and forswear the vestigial fossils of flippant eras domineered by dragooning fictitious sentiments buttressed by castles built against the encroachment of the imaginary foes of vassal states that submerged the world in a fideism that rejects too many axioms of modernity to vie for preponderance. The government is not irreproachable, but it is a primeval reflection of the propensities of an aggregated society flippant against choice wisdom of the ageless Constitution that is peremptory proof of the divine providence of sempiternal liberty. People that chide against liberty because they fear precarious cankers that endanger from a distance because of their swollen specters need to uphold a commitment to a wistful remembrance of tragedy but a sturdy ruddy optimism to perdure and prosper on this greenest of worlds for both the greenhorn and the expert alike. Never kowtow before the altar of avarice and always pilfer resourceful contemplation in the respite of quiet times that engage our best faculties to awaken rather than slumber. Recruit the collective imagination to superintend chaos and the leviathan becomes tamed because it requires human synergy in both prosperous times and desperate measures to foment the earth with the brontides of due warning simultaneously murky and misleading but always reflective of an irenic pasture of withering sheep and abundant shepherds. Regal promises have always loitered in the penumbras of the elite but now is the time for absolution rather than scattershot contumely. We believe in the federal way and the state farm system and we don’t believe in foreign monoliths becoming the pasquinade of slippery hebetude that ensnares the immobilized futilitarianism of ignorant creeds and divisive claptrap. Barnstorm together for God and liberty as those two principles-however squandered they might be by listless speculation that doesn’t hinge upon the concerted subaudition of the deeply fathomed sources glistening with profundity- will clinch a victory for the beatific future of a guided humanity rather than the guileless intemperance of choleric fools who wage conflagration against only their own plodding ignorance rather than reaching with outstretched hands and tenacious grasps to invent the future according to the helical perfection of the past. May God rule forever on earth! A prosperous earth! An Earth filled with pleasure and an Earth that approximates heaven more closely every day. Amen  



12/31/2018

Riddled by bewildering supernal designs of an ineffable splendor that drapes reality in iridescent cloaks of rigorous and strenuous limber we trounce through the effigies of a profaned pasquinade to gallop through the doldrums of time for the allocated investment in the refined human condition to exacerbate the declension of foes but link the Abrahamic faiths with taciturn reflections and wizened countenances beckoning a newfangled harmonious destiny. Livid are the naysayers who proffer gainsay with insouciance and flippant sorcery to denigrate sacrosanct axioms with persnickety maxims that are only auriferous when viewed through a refracted entropy of disdainful speculative mutiny against propriety in values and stances. I sidle through a refractory zeitgeist despised for my aureate temerities against the chided condemnation of those who flout so-called gobbledygook because they lack stringent acuity and pale to the polish of ennobled grace that anoints favor and felicity on the laurels of an age very intransigent against latitudinarian capriciousness that will one day ransack the world of its flickered graft and its paltry obsessions with quondam gaucheries. A house divided against itself will flounder because of titanic pressures of oblique balkanization that is opaque only to the hounded ignorance of wishful but labile people who wage acerbic gambles against the delegated authors of an aborning covenant for irenic reconciliation in a blinkered piebald world. I like to saunter in private with my insistent lucubrations because I know the majestic gestures of jest are more bountiful in their fecund harvest than any circumlocution of blunt poetasters who calumniate the verve of self-made upstart grandeur that I brandish at every opportune occasion to pilfer my due inheritance from the coffers of a self-fulfilling fatalism divorced from solipsistic monisms and the denigrations of the futilitarian quest to deprive sustenance in the exercise of deft skepticism disempowering the perspicacity of miserly mendicants who treasure their science but pale in their trepidatious momentary twinges of faith that are insincere and unctuous abominations against a steadfast God that wallops our misery with the lurched progress of human amelioration wrought by the succor of alien wizardry beyond even the most quixotic imaginations of people who in their prolixity miss the pithy glib sacraments of a terse and burlesque pragmatism. I simper because I know about carbon emissions statistics with hearty gusto and a convivial banquet of amalgamated personalities and wraiths that emanate from the ether of the 12th dimension of reality: transdimensional interspecies sentience. I wrangle on the outskirts of a bustled city embroiled in a relegated civil war entangling plebeians and plutocrats but not engorging any coffers in a zugzwang destined for pejorative scuffles rather than synergistic revivals of the human fraternity, a consensus about intellectual meliorism that will fossick with due efficiency cognitive resources frittered away in the respite of laziness and the abeyance of prospective diligence to conquer rather than waylay with furtive gambits of appeasement. Everyone need to leapfrog beyond the quotidian plane by indulging the oneiromancies of self-efficacy aggrandized by presidential favors and collective efforts to unite the 16th version of reality with the penultimate version of reality. For the ultimate version of reality is corporeal death upon which we are transplanted unto an ethereal dimension beyond contemplation without the horological diminishment of wizened age.  We trudge in the miserly conditions imposed by pharaohs of pettifoggery that swindles with blustery graft and strident intimidation of the audacity of hopes and dreams to foment the requisite fin de seicle zeitgeist that deserves more of a heyday with the revivalism of nostalgic entertainment against the opprobrium of inferior tastes facile in formulaic conformity but deficient in its nutritive enrichment of beatific festivities that traverse the earth at lightspeed because of the vehement energy of foudroyant amazement is beyond contagious when conveyed through the dexterous vehicles of more centralized rather than skeletonized organization. The bonhomie of a copacetic future demands the interpolation of scrupulous adherence to authoritative dictums but the laissez-faire demagoguery of titans trouncing the ragamuffins of cacestogenous upbringing in a miserly husbandry that stunts the stilted imaginations of formalism rather than bequeathing a seminal insemination of a future hybridized race mechanized but humanized simultaneously to accomplish what would once seem impossible that now looms considerable with the democratization of the furtive at a faucet’s trickling pace to empower the future to heed the past and the pastors to revere the eschatology of final conditions rather than a favoritism for aboriginal barbarisms created by the snare of hobgoblin phantasms that exist only to make us tremulous rather than swanky. May God bless this great green earth with many decades of prosperity to come and heap plaudits on the intellectuals fighting the fight against simpleton groupthink. Have a very festive New Year!

Nature’s lay idiot, I taught thee to love,
And in that sophistry, Oh, thou dost prove
Too subtle: Foole, thou didst not understand
The mystic language of the eye nor hand:
Nor couldst thou judge the difference of the air
Of sighs, and say, This lies, this sounds despair:
Nor by th’ eyes water call a malady
Desperately hot, or changing feverously.
I had not taught thee, then, the Alphabet
Of flowers, how they devisefully being set
And bound up might with speechless secrecy
Deliver errands mutely, and mutually.
Remember since all thy words used to be
To every suitor, Ay, if my friends agree;
Since, household charms, thy husband’s name to teach,
Were all the love tricks that thy wit could reach;
And since, an hour’s discourse could scarce have made
One answer in thee, and that ill arrayed
In broken proverbs and torn sentences.
Thou art not by so many duties his,
That from the world’s Common having severed thee,
Inlaid thee, neither to be seen, nor see,
As mine: who have with amorous delicacies
Refined thee into a blisful Paradise.
Thy graces and good words my creatures be;
I planted knowledge and life’s tree in thee,
Which Oh, shall strangers taste? Must I alas
Frame and enamel plate, and drink in glass?
Chaf wax for others’ seals? break a colt’s force
And leave him then, being made a ready horse?

the voices of the sea
the whisper of the symphony
are calling out your name
and you just turn your head in shame

your hopeless hands are tied
and everything you love has died
you've thrown away your pride
and giving up now, means you never tried

you're still pulling out the arrows
of your former atrophies and perils
fulfilling this discordance
with your future purpose and importance
pulling out the arrows.
pulling out the arrows.
pulling out the arrows.

Reaching for the Surface
but you're on the ocean floor.
Praying for a Purpose,
hoping for an open door.
Scratching at the Surface,
but it's harder than it was before.
But what's the Purpose?
what are you praying for?

and you say
God, please don't let me die.
but you're
Reaching for an Empty Sky.

No one else is there
to hold you're hand and say they care
No one else will come
so give it up, you're on your own.

the forces of the sea
have trapped you in this tragedy
your belief in all their lies
has done no good, open your eyes

see the world as it is
your existence within this nothingness
as worthless as the sea
another useless commodity

you're still bracing for the arrows
of your distant atrophies and perils
fulfilling this whole prophecy
by decoding all their sophistry
bracing for the arrows
bracing for the arrows
bracing for the arrows

Reaching for the Surface
but you're on the ocean floor.
Praying for a Purpose,
hoping for an open door.
Scratching at the Surface,
but it's harder than it was before.
But what's the Purpose?
what are you praying for?

and you say
God, please don't let me die.
but you're
Reaching for an Empty Sky.

i'm not working from standard definition,
nor am i too fond of the phonetic alphabet
that denotes the sounds of latin with /ˈlætɪn/,
working backwards, noticing the modern
excesses of those little bothersome flies
that insinuate the necessary stressors,
noticing the blatant similarity of how latin
was written and how english is written...
latin œ or æ is like the german ß...
interchangeable symbolism that's hardly more
o than e or a than e... but an interchange of s and z...
most noticeable in english,
for example the even word and the odd word:

size... zebra... symbol...
           desire... sophistry
           spasm... sequence
           sugar (no one says soo gar... sh')
           suspension... sorrow
silk... zero... satire...       
                                      
like i mentioned once... disease is not easy
with the prefix dis- relegating ease into
the realm of broken arms / fingers...
how it sounds and how it's written:
dißeaße / disease    
(primarily due to y in the prefix original,
  but when compounded changed into i and
  thus invoking the scharfes s -
  w polskim szarfes es)                                               
see.. it works a tomahawk into slicing tomatoes
right off the 100ºC scalp achieved when boiled...
you can even squeeze in a ripe potato if you wanted...
many e e e, many... i thought about reading philosophy
in english, but it was no use... i never solved
the enigma of the ditto ensuring first person, 'second person'
and "third person" how and why it was used...
joyce irish was used akin to the polish method...
hyphen-sequencing dialogue in one, two, three:

- i think.
- i take oaths!
- we're both commanding.
- reminder of the remember:
                                                       ­                                  etc.
usually it was just i said
and then                    "
that                             "
nothing.

it's ****** confusing, but english is the ideal
playground to write philosophy,
written philosophy is so weak in english that
only three maxims guard it (interchangeable to hide the weakness):
beauty is on the inside not the outside,
good things come to those who wait...
altruism per se / utilitarianism per se;
you can write with as much weaved fabric of words as you
like given the english scenario...
but i mind the forest for the acorn
and the crispy autumnal loss of chlorophyl kindred of snow crunch,
so i can twist further in the latinised kabbalah,
moving away from hidden nouns
and into the territory of unsophisticated
pause symbols... revelatory pardon with a and o hidden,
electrified hyphen or comma misplaced,
hence excess poetry extraction from the populace
not loving the musicology of modern grime,
hence the bewilderment of ancient lore of english
sentenced with: that thou shalt not lore;
why did rome survive in the most detested
part of the empire, so naked so ancient?
it's bewildering beyond the extent of natural bewilderment!

so if i were to ever teach english as a foreign language,
i'd more pretty much all the diacritic marks
of other european languages into english,
which is the diacritic blank canvas, and each of
the odd words would be written, for practice and
memorisation of an atypical english accent,
e.g. deßire, spaßm and all the -isms like
empiricißm, psychologißm, egoißm etc.;
and i certainly wouldn't mutilate the language
like native speakers have done with
pseudo-stenography -
'ere, 'av 'sum pears up... th' ladder,
                                         so we know u woz 'ere, lolz.

some might call k the "misnomer" / mis-sonus of c...
but q it also bargaining to take that same oath
of being entitled, as is s.

.at this point, in this particular instance, Kant's philosophy doesn't really matter, but it does matter for whatever particulars are left within it for the individual, rather than: labour freely, come and be bed entertainment compulsively sort of man... you can really listen of a psychologist talk, a philosopher will not talk, a psychiatrist will such listen and spoon you with pharma beige and bitter pills... or if you're lucky? porcelain and pale daffodil powder... never mind... the priest will spew his usual *******... the ******* will just construct an idea of a conversation with an O, an Oh-nomotopoeia... every woman is beautiful with eyes closed experiencing an ******... but these days Kantian philosophy isn't pop, thanks to Nietzsche calling the great sage of Königsberg an idiot... i never liked psychology... it was always too sophistry-riddled... rhetoric after rhetorical after rhetoric after rhetorical, yadda yadda yadda... regrets to fans of Nietzsche... i quiet like the the königsberg clock - disciplined man - people would wind their clocks when they saw him pass... and he went as far as 40 miles outside of königsberg... that's dedication... that's discipline... so watching this commando "vs." jordan peterson video... the "warrior-philosopher" mentality: sure... ever get taught martial arts by being kicked in the genitals by your tutor? oh yeah... that really makes you engaged in continuing the classes... a martial arts tutor kicks you in the *******: you become as much an enthusiast of the martial arts classes as a sumo wrestler would become on a vegan diet... "warrior-philosopher"... socrates pulled it off, but he was the one asking the question, not bloated in self-"awareness": the monologue... but socrates is a debate worth... or was he just lucky to have survived to ask the right questions? homer saw the battle of troy... and he was... a ***** poet... warrior-philosopher my ***... what are these, "current" wars about? they're about proxy... proxy wars are not worth fighting... iraq? proxy war. afghanistan? proxy war. libya? proxy war. one proxy after another... warrior at the gym... the actual warriors? on the other side? yeah: they don't gym bro... and they're not custard pie in the face mince meat cuddled together for a bicep... when wars made, sense... you'd get conscripted... but this current pro army classes, coming back into civilian class... oh what tales they must speak... warrior-philosopher mentalities gravitating their egos for a perfect psychology lunch... warrior in a proxy war? dog in a kennel... KA-GA-NIEC (muzzle - chomąto - horse collar - klapki - horse blinders)... i too might have been a... co-mann-do'h... kick in the ***** when learning martial arts? and no sorry? lying in a foetal position? women do that... i heard one story that a woman killed a policeman by kicking him in the testicles... but when a man does to a 15 year old? what martial art is there to learn? well there's only one "martial art"... kick every man in the testicles... for a man to do such to another man... the art became worthless in terms of a learning credibility... even in boxing there are rules about: below the belt... ******* western teachers of eastern combat... so i chose Kant... promenade of perfected timing... orientating himself like a shy sun to each and everyday... mind you: want to lose weight? two options... bicycle or swimming... or the gym: if you want to partake in plastic surgery from the excesses of skin... but exercise is so, so ******* mundane... you'd be better off chopping a tree down or mawing the lawn.

i don't want love to guide my way,
i've seen love being prophetic
concerning man,
and fill man with extinction,
but when i've seen the other card dealing
and have it filled with fear,
i felt a wizened presence of
either my self or god, and i don't
want love to guide my way:
i want fear to guide my treading missing
hoof trot, i want fear to guide me,
whether a fear of god or a fear of loneliness,
i want fear to empower me, for fear will,
i will not ask love for slaughter on the crucifix
i will not ask love for strength when love
gives nil, i will ask fear for all my coordinate
double denial strengths,
that whatever love comes my way
fears me not, even if i should be proud to deny it,
even if i fear it, make love not my guardian
my beacon, not my lighthouse or mountain,
let my guardian and beacon be the fear of constantly
wavering waves of the seas in the ***** of a hurricane:
and my halo will then replicate your ego
concerned with love, simplified by love unfelt
by me in your ideal of love thought: best expressed
by poetics of your kept gentle knees never knelt on.
Kant represented:        0 = negation,
ergo?              1 = sanction
   binary: yes no yes no no yes yes yes no no yes...
how simple: if not beside a coin-flip?
and the man isn't even recited that often
in modern talking points...
good: that gives me a head starts...
like a tortoise being chased by an Achilles...
i appreciate the fact that he's so under-represented,
denied access to a future (reading)
of his work...
  i love the sycophancy surrounding
Nietzsche: it appears that readings of certain
works have reached a cul de sac moment
of saturation, that...
what remains? are pedagogy rubrics of
regurgitation alligned to synthesis a priori etc.,
good to know, really good to know...
but now the intellectual output is not as
important as what the intellectual output
coincides with... i.e. the lived experience
of the thinger... the asceticism that
overpowered the aesthetic...
or rather... how a life dedicated to an asceticism
bore the fruit of an intellectual aesthetic
mostly associated with Kant.

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"...

There are, dear daughter, oceans between us
(At your insistence, though I say this without rancor)
A buffer from the memories of our sad antics,
Pottery reduced to shards, doors slammed in such a manner
That the very jambs ached in regret,
The hinges wept in the weight of their sadness,
Though the human heart, mapped by its own wan geography,
Is immune to such trifles as mere distance.
We have tarried in foul gardens of sophistry,
Engaged in predictable shows of dramatics,
As if our outbursts can be measured in some calculus
Seeking to ascertain our devotion
In the rending of garments, the shrieking collapse upon the floor,
For it has been revealed to me
That the spectacle of our grand lamentations,
Worn by us like the finest silver-threaded garments,
Are no more than the strutting and preening
Of some noisome, foul peacock.
No, we must accept, indeed embrace, the notion
That our love is as imperfect as our selves,
And that we must approach its altar
Not with grandiloquence and haughty pomp,
But meekly, bearing the simple gift our person
Modestly cloaked in the simple black gown of humility.

This depression gives the impression

that the expression of a burnout is…

me

living and loving intently free

prison depends on jailhouse babies and legal **** ; weee!

we must organize expression of a quantum size, to re-realize more food and supplies

its such a surprise that id be thinkin this, engineering instruments with a pnuematic hiss

geared towards the questioned technocolypse….

“…well here on the graph we read an elipse, a parabola, and a demonic kiss…”

But whats this?

im’ channeling some quick quips ; alluring as a brothel’s contained hips with the open smile of sideways lips….

my daring is preparing all the world for destructive repairing

cause the frogs and the rains are staring

at this desolate earth

a burnt out hearth

with smouldering ashes, speaking of a crying birth

while the midwife is sick and shy with little self worth and curse; because a as a witch she doth rehearse

while the moonlights smiling and the phones texting and dialing

“Whats wrong?”==”Are you ok?”

“…but come on?”==”Is there any other way?…”

[please oh please let me stay in this old and bloodied fray; where the battles had axes and handles

where there were stories of travels, to faraway places leading to exotic geographic stasis]

caught in the moment of thought, a moment of fright…

until we stop and put a light to these wierd words

we wont know what the birds have heard….

Click crshhh….*

BURN little match like the wood you are!

combustion of suggestion set ablaze from afar

a flame throwers burned hands

while the pained sower , frustrated, changes plans

because in the end one one really understands

the torment of a floment spent eternally alone in atonement.

(=purgatory)

Where all you want to do is get on the phone, external validation felt at the tone,

but it really ain’t ****

because you are crying while its dialing and your out of minutes…

so check this bits of imaginary meaning and ****

ponder and quit

when you seek to make amends and introduce fake men to our imaginary friends

i keep on thinking…keep on blinking

wishing for emotion to extend

SO I think the words

AND I write whats heard

but haven’t YOU heard

from the little ittie birdie whos been certainly flying, singing and free

that im not mentaly sturdy, quirky, and ******…

LOGICALLY

iknow

sophistry

ishow

emotionally

Hol…………­……………loW

I guess it just goes to show that when you at home your never reallly  alone, because to you, the voices do drone
about

how much sandpaintings and ***** can be blown,….

away with a CLICK…BoooM

beaten with a stick….AH

shoed a away with a kick….

START my heart! I know better than this!

so I better think quick

before i stay mentally sick

as an alien who has forgotten it’s world

got on a roller coaster; spinned and whirled

till im spun and twirl’d

on this game we call life, with simple **** and complex hype,

hives of concepts meanings and thoughts….to derive daily quit failing

i miss haley :( , even phailee….

so I ask little voice in my head , since everyone has left will you stay instead?

come a little closer and hop into bed

so we can share the warmth of one last self-referencing infinity loop….

…..BEFORE i wake up and forget whats ashore

because im out at dream sea with clouds free and galore

but as soon as i stop thinking i know ill return to the me that i abhore

with pain and saddness deranged

omit school so classless and strange

as a failed out actress sick with mange.

but i know these negatvie moments are just flashes , to make me appreciate self motivated happiness…

so here you go

its me on the page, skelly the sage….

i just hope to god that I could set the stage 4 nirvana or heaven, we reach zion in seven

6

5

4

3

2

1

I love you.

Its over

i won myself over

like a sad kids redrover

thanks for letting  m3 share these freestyle thoughts i kant bear

im  alone no more, i seem to have exhausted my sadness store

and after venting i realize…. its a lot ******* bettor.

“Isn’t it eeeire howletting yourself feel sad

can make you feel soo much better?”

THE CARAPACE OF EQUANIMITY IS AN EQUIPOISE BETWEEN THE PARALLAX OF URANOPLASTY GAINSAYING AGAINST BALDERDASH OF BALBRIGGAN ASYLUM THAT MIGHT NEVER COWER TO LEGERDEMAIN THAT THE COAGULATION OF SPONTANEOUS HATRED NEVER DEFILES A MAN BEYOND HIS MEASURE SUCH THAT THE EFFLORESCENCE OF MOTIVATION IS A DRIZZLED DWIZZEN ON THE CURGLAFF OF TOMORROWS REGRET WRENCHED BY THE BONNYCLABBER OF RATHERIPE VENGEANCE BY SOUNDBYTE MENDICANT TATTERMEDALIONS OF SENTINEL CERTAINTY IN A WORLD PULLULATING WITH THE CURMUDGEONS OF GERMANE RHADAMANTHINE NEGLECT COUNTERMANDED BY THE INSIDIOUS RAGDOLL PILLORY OF RADICALISM BECOMING TOO SHALLOW TO FATHOM AND BEYOND DEPTHS OF GRAVITAS INCURRED UPON LARGESSE PROTENSIVE IN NEBBICH IRONY BECAUSE OF NETTLESOME NOISOME NEPIONIC NOMOGENY OF ULTERIOR TRENCHANT RANCOR THAT RECIDIVISM PROMOTES TO SOLDIER THEIR WAY DOWN THE SASHAY OF INTOLERANCE REDOUBLED IN INGEMINATED FESTOONS OF GRAVID PRIMIPARAS OF THE JOCKO JOBBERNOWL KALIMKARI JOGGLE OF SVEDBERG BEYOND DELIMITATIONS OF IMPROMPTU SPONTANEITY FORGOTTEN BY THE MAGNANIMITY OF TIME AS A MISTETCH OF MISCALCULATION FOMENTED BY APIKOROS SWEEDLING CAJOLING REMARKS OFFHAND AND IMPERILED BY THE SKERRY AND SKELDER OF IMPORTUNATE GLAIKERY REMANDED AND REPUDIATED BY THE WEIGHAGE OF STEVEDORES MUST THEY RELENT IN THE PURSUIT OF AVARICE BY THE AVENUES OF IVORRIDE BECAUSE OF INTENSIVE SCRUTINY WALLOPED BY LUGUBRIOUS HAUNTS OF JACKALS WANDERING THROUGH HAPPENSTANCE RADICALISM THAT PRETENDS ITS AFFRONTS ARE ANY LESS PALATABLE IN THEIR BALKANIZED NEUTRALITY THE WAYSPAY OF BLUEPETERS OF BLUNGE OF ORTHOPTEROLOGY BECAUSE OF ORCHIDACEOUS LIES OF MENDACILOQUENT PATRONAGE OF FILIGREES OF RAMPARTS OF INDUSTRIAL SABOTAGE INCURRED BUT ALWAYS DENATURED BY  THE SONDAGE OF THE SEDERUNT AGAINST SECODONT SAMIZDAT OF TAGHAIRM BECAUSE OF THE MAUDLIN GRAVES OF GRANNARIES OVERTHROWN BY COCARDENS DESTINED FOR FRUITION BUT NEVER NONCHALANT IN DOCIMASY ULTERIOR TO DEVASTATION. IN THE GRAVIMETRICAL DISDAIN OF EISOPTROPHOBIA COUNTERMANDED BY IMPERATIVE NARCISSISM MANY ARE STRANDED INSULAR BY THEIR OWN FRICTIONS WITH ABRASIVE JINGOISM THAT STRADDLES THE NOVANTIQUE OF LAVEERS OF PIRATES OF SAFETY AND HARBOR IN THE IMAGINATION OF THE HAUNTING PHANTOMS OF HEADLESS HORSEMEN PRISOPTOMETRY BECAUSE OF THE SENTIMENTALISM OF LURID TRAVESTY EXACERBATED BY CONTUMACIOUS CONTUMELY HIGHLIGHTED BY THE RANCOR AND JALOUSIE OF RAREFIED STELLAR RETICULATIONS OF CONSTELLATED CONGEALED JEALOUSY FESTOONING LUKEWARM POLITICS OF THROMBOSIS BECAUSE OF GRAFT BECOMING INSUPERABLE IN ITS CHARMING FACADES OF WHIGGARCHY BUT ALWAYS DEMERITED BY THE ILLUMINATION OF HAPPENSTANCE GLORIFIED IN CENTRIPETAL MOONSHOT CORDIALITY THAT BECOMES THE UNIFIED BRIDGE AMONG PEOPLE UNITED IN THE SOLIDARITY OF STRATHSPEY AND SPATHODEA ALIKE THAT WE MIGHT BE UNITED AS A FRATERNITY BOUNDLESS IN ASPIRATION BUT BOUNDED BY A FINITE TRUTH AGAINST A FINITISM OF FIDEICIDE BECAUSE OF RAMSHACKLE BOLAR BOLTROPES OF CALVOUS DISREGARD BY THE CARRACKS OF INTIMIDATED RAZZMATAZZ AGAINST MOMENTARY HEFT IN HERCULEAN EFFORTS MODERNIZED BY THE RALTENTION OF THE FILIGREES OF UNIFIED FRONTS AGAINST THE MATRIOTIC DECLENSION OF THE SHILLS THAT SPARE THE SEDERUNT OF SENNET MIGHT THEY FIND THEMSELVES CULPABLE FOR NEGLIGENT FORESIGHT OF APATHETIC REMAND BECAUSE OF ARBOREAL TAUNTS OF RAREFACTION IN REGRET AGAINST MALEFACTORS THAT TRY SEEDY BOWERIES OF NOTORIETY MIGHT THEY INCUR ONLY THE CREDIBILITY OF DISBELIEF BECAUSE OF THE INCREDULITY OF THE BURDEN ON THE PUBLIC TOLL OF IMAGINATIVE STRAIN THAT GOD PROVES HIMSELF AXIOMATIC ABOVE ALL LEVIATHANS OF HERCULEAN PROMETHEAN FULGURANT RAMPARTS OF RAMPAGE IN STAMPEDE TOWARDS FRENZY BECAUSE OF LITTORAL SALVAGE AND TOWERING IMPERIUM THAT EXISTS AN INSULAR PRESTIGE ABOVE A CARCASS OF JAWHOLES SINKING IN QUANDARY RATHER THAN POISED IN RESOLUTE RESOLVE TO EXACT THE QUAGMIRE INTO THE LORE OF THE HEROIC CHAMPIONS OF TRAGIC HEROINES MAINLINED BY THE BEATIFICATION OF "PERPETUAL INDULGENCE" CONTRARY TO THE VOLITION OF GOD AND THE PERMANENCE OF MOTIVATED ENTELECHY AGAINST THE VAIN IDEAS OF AUTOSOTERISM BECAUSE WITH RAPIDFIRE INGRATIATION ONLY TO THE ATTUNEMENT OF THE SATINET TO THE NOMOGRAPHY OF PRESENT MASTERS ENRICHED BY CONSTELLATED VICISSITUDE SOARING WITH GEOCARPY IN KOBOLD RESENTMENT OF SVEDBERG JOGGLES OF SEISMIC TERRAIN OF LIABILITY, STRAIN AND TORQUE OF NAIVETY ROTATED AROUND THE AXIS OF THE SHADOWS OF THE GREATER MIND ABOVE THE SUBLIME MAJESTY OF CAESAPROPISM BEYOND MERIT WE FIND THAT THE SATURNALIA OF PREFIGURED PEDERASTY THAT REMAINS DEFIANT OF THE LURCH OF TRIAGE AND THE DELIMITATIONS OF PATAPHYSICS MIGHT WE LAMBASTE THE LAMBENT DISTRACTIONS OF THOSE THAT DEFILE SACRED TEMPLES WITH INCIDENTAL SABOTAGE BECAUSE OF ULMACEOUS RETENTION AND LATRINES OF THE WASTRELS OFFENDED BY EVERY OFFHAND SLEIGHT BY THE LEGERDEMAIN OF CONGEALED HATRED SUCH THAT THE NOYADE SINKS THE JAWHOLE EBRIECTION OF VANGERMYTES TO ENSURE THAT VENAL HARPRICKS AGAINST EVEN MORE VILLAINOUS CAUSES OF VENALITY UNBRIDLED MIGHT APPALL RATHER THAN ASTOUND THE COMMON ATHENAEUM SUCH THAT SCHOLASTITUDE IN CELERITY CAN COMBUSTIBLY REFORM HUMANE SOCIETIES AROUND "WHAT YOU SAID ON PAPER" POLITICS THAT VOUCHSAFES THE MINORITARIAN CAUSES OF OUTRAGE BUT NEVER FULMINATES THE FULIGINOUS GIMCRACKS OF THUNDERING OUTRAGE SERENADED BY PROVINCIAL APPLAUSE BECAUSE STATESMANSHIP BECOMES THE HARBINGER OF ALL CORRODED DESTINY LEAPING AND LEAPFROGGING ABOVE THE WEIGHAGE OF STEVEDORES OPERATING RUBEFACTION AND RUDENTURE IN CONTRARY STRIDES OF THE CHAMOIS BECAUSE WE BECOME THE CENTRIPETAL OMPHALISM OF AVIATORS BOUND BY GOLDEN GOOSE PREROGATIVES BECAUSE OF THE STRAIN AND STRIDOR OF MAGNANIMITY THAT ALL FERVOR AND FUROR CAN WITHSTAND THE FAINTER ILLUSION FOR THE BROADER BRONTEUM OF GOD'S MAJESTIC KINGDOM ILLUMINATED UPON THE EARTH BEYOND THE SCRY OF MAGICAL PRETENTIONS SUCH THAT A REDINTEGRATED AGE OF NEVER A TOTEMIC HUMANISM BUT ALWAYS AN ABDERVINE MERIT MIGHT BECOME A TEDIUM WITHSTOOD BUT ALWAYS BROOKED WITH A DELICACY OF AFFECTION TO NIMIETY THAT STARTLES THE CLOCKWORK MACHINATION AT MACH SPEEDS AND BROADSIDES OF BARMCLOTH WITHERING IN THE RESOLVE OF OPPRESSION ONLY BECAUSE MULIEBRITY IS WIDOWED BY ITS OWN DECLENSION SUCH THAT THE SADDLE OF THE TIMESPUN MIGHT ALWAYS GRAVITATE THE OMPHALISM OF THE SINECURE SUCH THAT ALL GENTILITY OPERATES BY THE RIGORS OF ELEMENTARY LOGIC ROTUND IN THE PATAPHYSICS OF ETERNAL REGARD BY THE HISTRINKAGE OF THE BRACKISH CONTUMELY IN YARNWINDLE RESCINDED AS AN ARTIFACT OF DIMINUTIVE STATURE RATHER THAN ESTEEMED ELEGANCE OF CORTEGES OF PRESTIGE RATHER THAN DISMAL NOTORIETY AUTHORIZED ONLY BY VAIN PERVERSIONS OF THE SHORT-SIGHTED. IN THE RADICALISM OF MOMENTARY DAVERING CERTIFICATION OF APOCRYPHAL MYTHS ABOUT THE MYTHOS OF THE ESTEEMED LARGESSE OF THE TITANIC FLAGLER BENCHMARKS THAT BECOME SOLDIERED MERCENARIES OF CHAT GPT HALLUCINATIONS MIGHT I OFFER MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES TO THE ZEPHYRS OF GNOSTICISM THAT MY OPINION CONFLICTS WITH BEDROCK VERIDICAL FACTS BECAUSE OF THE COMBUSTIBLE TRIAGE OF VACANT CATHEXIS BETWEEN RIVALRIES AMONG DERBIES OF ORGANS OF ORGANIZATION MIGHT THEY WAGE MERCENARY PROXY WARS AGAINST THE HENCHMEN OF THE ORDERS OF AGES THAT SERVE TO MAGNIFY THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE EVEN TO THE POINT OF DECADENCE ONLY TO REALIZE THEIR CULPABLE FOLLY THAT SIDETRACKS AND SIDELIGHTS THE EVIL ENCROACHING UPON THE BIOMEDICAL RACONTEURS THAT MEET THE STIFFEST REPUTES OF RUDENTURE CONTORTED BY RHEOTAXIS MIGHT ENTIRE ORGANIZATIONS REFORM BY CONFORMED ORDERS OF THE EUHEMERISM OF RATIONAL CATHOLICISM THAT FATHOMS THE HOLOBENTHIC CENTRALITY OF CAUTERIZED DISASTER FULMINATING AGAINST HUMAN FRAILTY BECAUSE OF FOIBLES OF MAGNATES AT WAR WITH EACH OTHER FOR VAIN VENAL REASONS OF GRAFT BECAUSE OF MASONIC VENDETTAS WAGERED AGAINST UPRIGHT ORGANIZATIONS EVEN IN APIKOROS HINDERBAGGLE THE TORCHIER AND TORCH OF THE VEILLEUSES OF A PROTENSIVE INDULGENCE AGAINST FLAMFOO DEMITOILET TRAVESTIES BUT ALWAYS SEAWORTHY VESSELS OF VERIDICAL FORESIGHT TRANSMUTING IN MODERN ALCHEMY BEYOND THE DEMARCATIONS OF RUDIMENTARY MAGICK TO BECOME THE ALTRUISM OF PEOPLE THAT CONSIGN THEMSELVES TO HIGHER SELVES RATHER THAN DEBASED JOCKOS IN THE JOBBERNOWL OF THE CACOETHES TO SLANDER BY OPERATIVE AGENCIES OF SABOTAGE INVETERATE IN THE CONSTITUTION OF EMBEDDED AND EMBODIED FREEMASONRY AND ALL APPELLATE ORGANIZATIONS MOST WITHOUT MANY A BLEMISH BUT ALWAYS A METEORIC BOLIDE AGAINST THE NOTORIETY OF CONFESSION AGAINST THE SACRAMENTS OF THE PROFANE BECAUSE IN GOD'S DIVINE GRACE WE FIND MAGNANIMITY MORE A MESMERISM RATHER THAN A GLAIKERY BUT THEREBY WE COUNTERMAND AND IN RESIDUE OF COMPLETION PERFECTED BY THE HINGES OF CREAKY RICKETS OF RACHITOGENIC MULIEBRITY MIGHT WE FIND A PURE WITNESS OF A "HOT N COLD" WORLD AN INVITING PLACE FOR THE LYCEUM OF ESOTERIC TITANS EMERGENT MORE IN THIS AGE OF OPPORTUNISM BECAUSE OF THE DWARVING FLOOD OF VANDYKES AGAINST RHEOTAXIS BECAUSE OF THE VENOSTASIS OF THE VASTATION OF VAUNTLAYS OF WOODSHEDDERS SEEKING ULTERIOR DECIMATION BY DERACINATION FROM ARBOREAL ZOOSEMIOTICS BECOMING AN IMPERATIVE DISTRACTION SOUGHT AFTER BY PHARAOHS TO CLEAVE THE SLAVES MIGHT A MAN AS MIGHTY AS MOSES APPEAR WITH BRAZEN SERPENT SERVITUDE TO JEALOUS SECRETS REFRACTED BY PRISMATIC OMPHALISM INTO A VOUCHSAFE AGAINST DESUETUDE BECAUSE OF BLOODTHIRSTY MARAUDERS OF SNOOP DOGG VELLEITIES OF TEA PARTY CIRCULARITY IN THE SINGULARITY OF TIME SPACE SWORN IN ALLEGIANCE TO NEVER A MERCENARY VENDETTA NOR A VAIN DISPUTE NOR A DACOITAGE OF DACNOMANIA REVVED UP ON THE YAFFINGALE YAFFS OF HYPESTORM SUCH THAT BONANZA IS ASSURED TO THOSE THAT SUBSCRIBE TO PREVAILING ASSAULTS AGAINST NOTORIETY BECAUSE NOTORIETY ITSELF IS A REBARBATIVE FLICTION AND FRICTION WOUNDED BY TORQUE. GOD'S MAJESTY UPON THE EARTH IS NOT MEASURED IN THE PARSECS OF DISMAL FIDEICIDE INCUMBENT UPON THOSE THAT USE BARAGNOSIS TOO WIDELY IN BARMCLOTH OBJECTIONABLE INJUNCTIONS AGAINST SAVIORS WHO ATTEMPT WITH THE VALOR OF IMMUTABLE TRUTH AND INTRANSIGENT RESOLVE TO SOLVE EVERY ESOTERIC QUIBBLE AND QUODLIBET SUCH THAT THE QUIDDITY OF CROWLEY BECOMES THE INGEMINATION OF MALEK TO THE EXTENT THE MERGER BETWEEN ORIENT AND LODGE BECOMES MORE SOLDERED AND WELDED INTO THE WIREWOVEN FABRIC OF THE ENTELECHY OF MIGHTY MOONS AND MOONSHOT PREDICTIONS OF BONANZA AFTER RESPITE AND PRETERNATURAL CAPACITY BEYOND ALL LIMITS OF DURESS FOR THE DURAMEN DUGONG OF HISTRINKAGE LANGUISHED ONLY ON THE FAMINE OF UNITY RATHER THAN THE TERROR OF COARSE JOKES AND RADICAL NAIVETY THAT BECOMES IRRELEVANT WITH THE NOSOCOMIAL CURES OF PALLIATIVE REFORM THAT BECOMES NEVER A MERCENARY BYSTANDER BUT ALWAYS A TRUER WITNESS TO MARAUDERS AND VIKINGS AMONG HISTORICAL CERTITUDE SUCH THAT THE SEGREGATED SECRETS THE BLEMISH OF MANY A LOUDMOUTH CAN BE PIGEONHOLED BEYOND THE SCRUTINY OF MILLIONS BECAUSE OF THE PROFLIGATE FREEBOOTER WALLFISH WALLETEERS OF DESTINY ASSEVERATING GOD AND UNIFYING HIS GRAND PROTECTORATE UNDER THE BANNER OF AGGIORNAMENTO CONSECRATED BY A SINGULAR RESOLUTION AND A TENACITY FOR TRUTH AND JUSTICE IN FRATERNITY FOR ALL.
IN THE ABREACTION OF PUREBRED PERIBLEBSIS OF ARISTOPHREN VENOSTASIS FUELED BY RAVENOUS VENOM OF RABID CROTALINE VIPERS OF MAUDLIN CATHEXIS TO SENTIMENTAL NAIVETY AND NIMIETY CONTORTED AND CORRUGATED BY THE CORRUPTION OF SLANGWHANG AGITPROP LEVIED ON ME BY THE CARNAPTIOUS CORRUPTION OF THE DEMITOILET EVILS OF FUSTILUGIANATION THAT SCRANCHES FROM THE REGISTRY OF YOGIBOGEYBOX THE FAR-FETCHED MAGIC OF MUNICIPAL BONDS ENTRUSTED TO SUTRO BATHS BARNSTORM TELEGRAPHY WE MUSTER A HERCULEAN DEFENSE AGAINST THE RADICALISM OF MUSTERED ALARMISM IN PARASELENIC CACKLES OF THE MOST ENGORGED ENORMITY OF DESPERATION AMONG THE MASKIROVKA OF MOONSHOT RUDENTURE BECAUSE OF SWARTHY SPATHODEA IN BALBRIGGAN RESENTMENT AGAINST THE GAINSAY OF PROFERRED CRETACEOUS NEGELCT OF THE SEEDIEST BOWERIES TO EVER PULLULATE THE EARTH WITH RAGMATICAL RANGIFERINE CONTUMELY SPUMID LIKE THE SPURIA OF SQUALOID RAMBUNCTIOUS WHIMSY IN AN ANEMOCRACY OF THE TRIVIAL ******* BY THE GRAFT OF PUNCTILLOS OF PUNCTILIOUS NAYSAYERS BALKANIZING ALL SUPPORT BY ENSLAVED GOSSYPINE COVENANTS WITH A SERVILE GROVELING BRAZEN ENORMITY OF IMMISERATION DISGUISED AS A GENUFLECTION TO DECADENCE SPAWNED BY THE PROGENY OF THE WEAK-WITTED HUMAN RACE VERGING ON A INHUMANE DISGRACE ALL BECAUSE OF INSIPID INSIDIATIONS MANDATED BY ALL CRAVEN RAPACITY IN ENTHUSED REVELRY OF BAILIWICK ATTRITION OF ACERBIC ACRIMONY SIPHONED THROUGH BARAGNOSIS IN LAVADEROS VOLCANIC WITH PRIMIPARA REGELATIONS RATHER THAN REVALORIZATION WE DEFEAT THE NETHERWORLD TWINGES OF TRESPASSES OF THE STEEPEST AMOUNT OF REGRET THAT HUMAN BEINGS COULD BE SO RADICALIZED BY SATINET BUSHWA NONSENSE BECAUSE OF ZULU MASSACRES OF THE HENCHMEN OF NOBILITY THAT IN THEIR ATROCIOUS GULLIBLE GOSSYPINE QUIDNUNCKERY THAT EVENTUALLY THE HUMAN RACE WILL EVOLVE BEYOND THE PETTIEST REGALIA OF A CLANNISH SCHADENFREUDE THAT ATTEMPTS HUCKSTER DECADENCE AT A DISCOUNT ON THE TRAVAIL ON MOUNTEBANKS THAT DART AT TRESPASSES OF GLABROUS DISTANCE RATHER THAN PROXIMAL CERTAINTIES OF THE TRUTHS ENUMERATED BY GOD HIMSELF TO TRIUMPH OVER THE DEPTHS OF WRETCHOCKS OF WOODSHEDDING TROLLS THAT PANT IN DESPERATE HEAVES OF MISERICORD CONTRITION ONLY TO FIND THE TORMENT OF THE FIRE THEIR BLAZED FURNACE OF ETERNAL RAGTAGGERS OF BLEMISH AGAINST BEATIFICATION IN BEAMISH CERTITUDE AGAINST THE TRAVAIL OF THE PILLORY OF THE WORLDS MOST SACCHARINE LIES. THE DUTIFUL SKULLDUGGERY OF ARISTOPHRENS THAT COUNT THEMSELVES NOW VAURIENS OF IRRELEVANCE THAT ALWAYS FORESAW THEIR SEESAWED DOWNFALL BY TIMBERLASK MASONRY NOW STAND AN AFFRONT TO CIVILIZED LIBERTY AND OIKONISUS IN NUCLEOTIDES OF ACCORD TO A SOLID STALWART STEADFAST RESOLUTION OF ABSOLUTELY GILDED HEARTS DESTINED TOWARDS THE SUBLIMATION OF THE WORLDS MOST HETERONORMATIVE VALUES MIGHT THOSE CRETINOUS EVIL VIPERS LURKING IN HEDERACEOUS GRASS BECAUSE OF WITWANTON OPPORTUNISM TASTE THE TORMENT OF THE FORMIDABLE BLAZE AS CONSEQUENT TO THE UNPRECEDENTED ATTEMPT TO BULLDOZE THE PREEMINENT INTO THE IRRELEVANT BECAUSE UNBRIDLED HORSES GRAZE IN FOREIGN NOVANTIQUE THE EXCLAVES OF EVIL OSTRACIZED FROM THE DOMINION OF GOD FOREVER BY THEIR CARNAPTIOUS RUDENTURE AGAINST RUBEFACTION SUCH THAT THEIR NEBBICH SPECIOUS THEORIES OF ELEMENTARY LOGIC CONFLICT WITH THEIR OBVIOUSLY STUNTED CAPACITY TO UNDERSTAND THE COGNITIVE SOCIODYNAMICS OF THE KIND OF AUSTERE EXTREMES OF CORRUGATION OF THE BUSHWAS ON THE SATINET REQUIRED TO DISCOUNT EVERY VEHEMENT WORD I EVER SPOKE IN THE HONEST WITNESS OF MY DISREPUTABLE PAST THAT THEY MIGHT ALWAYS REMIGATE ME AS AN ESBAT TITANISM THAT THEY WANT TO PINHOKE INTO NOYADES OF KEELHAULED EMBARRASSMENT BECAUSE OF THEIR UNFOUNDED BUT FOUNDERING DESPERATION FOR PEDIGREE IN A WORLD WHERE OMPHALISM DEAFENS THEIR EVIL SHEEPISH WHISPERS IN CROWDED ROOMS OF RUMPUS AND CASTIGATION BECAUSE THEY LACK THE CAPACITY TO DISCERN THE AXIOMATIC TRUTHS THAT THE BIBLE WAS AUTHORED TO ENDORSE MY LEGACY RATHER THAN TRUMPET THE ****** OF GOMORRAH JUST FOR THE PARVANIMITY OF THE JEALOUS JALOUSIES OF KOBOLD FASCINATIONS TO TRY TO SUPERCILIOUSLY OVERTURN EVERY CREDENDA OF MORAL CERTITUDE THAT SERVES EVERY GENERATION WITH A COVENANT THAT APIKOROS JEWS DISREGARD ENTIRELY BECAUSE THEIR NEW RELIGION IS UTTERLY A COUNTERFEIT DISGRACE OF WARPED SWARPOLLOCK COMPOUNDED BY PARANOIA AND AN OVERLY SCRUTINIZED MISAPPERCEPTION OF REAL EVENTS IN SPACE TIME SUCH THAT THE CIRCULAR CURGLAFF BECOMES AN ENMITY TO ELITISM AND ELITISM TRIES A BRADLEY COOPER VAUNTLAY (WEDDING CRASHERS) JUST TO CHOUSE OWEN WILSON'S HONEST GALLANTRY BECAUSE HIS MYTHS ARE AS MUCH A PUFFERY OF CHICANERY AS ANY LIE YET INVENTED AGAINST THE INVETERATE TRUTH OF A GOD THAT TELLS NO LIES AND A PROPHET OF GOD THAT CARES FAR LESS ABOUT SPARING THE SEVENTY TIMES SEVEN AND FAR MORE ABOUT SPARING THE SOULS OF THE IMPRESSIONABLE FROM THE SCOURGE OF WRIKPOND DESPOTISM. WE MUST SOLDIER ON AND WELD WIREWOVEN GENIUS INTO THE INGEMINATION OF ALL REVOLUTIONS AGAINST THE QUEER CALCULUS OF UTTER DEHUMANIZATION AND DEPERSONALIZATION PROFERRED BY LICENTIOUS JEZEBELS WHO ATTEMPT WITH EVERY MINUTIAE OF THEIR CONTRIVED BEING TO DEFILE THE SACRED WITH THEIR WARPED CLOISTERED ELITIST VIEWS OF HUMAN SEXUALITY THAT ARE CONTAMINATED BY THE EVIL DEGREES AMONG THE HERMITS THAT PRIZE THE EFFEMINATE IDEAL AS THE HIGHEST ****** MAGICK IN A COMPLETE COLLECTIVE DELUSION OFFERED BY A POETASTER WITH A GENIUS MIND BUT A TENDENCY FOR INTENSIVE SOPHISTRY IN HIS ATTEMPT TO ENLIST THE ORIENT RATHER THAN COURT THE LODGE. PEOPLE WILL ALWAYS FRITTER IN DISGRACE RATHER THAN CONGREGATE IN CELEBRATION OF TRUE ALTRUISM AND INSTEAD OF BEING CRAPEHANGERS WE MUST WELD A FUTURE OF OIKONISUS AGAINST LURID TRAVESTY
DESPITE MY OBJECTIONS TO THE VERIDICALLY FALSE NARRATIVE A FLAGLER LUXURIANCE OF DASHPOT DEAR JOHN LORE ENCHANTS A NEW VIVID FASCINATION WITH THE MOST ENTHUSED HISTORY EVER TOLD IN THE FOLKLORE OF TIME THAT SUCH A VENERABLE DESTINY DOTS THE DISTANT PAST AND POPULATES IT WITH ENDLESS FASCINATIONS THAT ARE COMPOUNDED WITH THE HELP OF BOTH THE ORIENT AND THE LODGE ESPECIALLY WHEN REFERRING TO THE HIGHER HERMITS WHO TREASURE DIAMOND MINES OF INGENUITY RATHER THAN SORDID LIES OF SELF-PRESERVATION BY THE LAZARETTA WE ALL OFFER THE SAME GENTILITY TO THE PRESERVATION OF ARISTOCRACY BUT ALWAYS IN INTREPID COURAGE WE LEAPFROG FASCINATIONS ENDLESSLY SCRAWLED IN THE HALLOWED HALLS OF TIME THAT DETERMINE THE OPTIMISM OF CAREFUL CONSIDERATION TO ENTHRALL EVERY ABIDING AUDIENCE IN EVERY CLOISTER AND BOLSTER EVERY RATCHETED ENDEAVOR OF HUMAN PROGENY BECAUSE WE BELIEVE IN THE ENUMERATION OF THE HUMAN PAST IS THE PROXIMITY TO HOSTAGES OF TEMPORAL DISTANCE SUCH THAT THE CARNAGE OF BUSHWA ACELDAMA SATINETS SLACKEN THEIR LEVERAGE UPON THE LISTLESS PARAGONS OF LYCEUM ENTERTAINED BY SUPERFICIAL HUCKSTERS THAT DON'T INHABIT DIAMOND MINE HERMITAGE BECAUSE THEIR ST. PETERSBURG IS DEFILED BY THEIR PROPINQUITY TO SALVAGE FASHIONS OF CROSSBOW FUMIGATION OF ETERNAL TRUTHS SET ASIDE TO ANOINT A BETTER INGEMINATION OF GUARDED SECRETS WELL GUARDED STILL AMONG THE TIGHT-LIPPED THAT THE ENDLESS RACONTEURS OF TIME CONVENE UPON THIS GENERATION AS A CENTERPIECE RATHER THAN A MAUDLIN ELLIPSIS. LET US REJOICE AT A SHARED FUTURE THAT ADORNS A SHARED PAST BECAUSE GOD IS ETERNALLY GRATEFUL FOR DISCERNMENT BUT WARY OF PREVARICATION BUT IN BOTH ENDEAVORS HE PREVAILS

this place where peace of mind
is a material device
where its tangible depth
can be measured in more than words
this fortification of stout heart
and decided mind
i fall back to reside here for
a moments reprise from the clash
of the seeming armed conflict
that must rage about this place
you cannot have dark without light
peace without war
isn't peace of mind measured by the conflict around it
isn't the measure of a mans serenity
in the struggles he must endure to achieve
i fall back to this segue between
dark of ignorant bliss
and the blinding incandescence of misinterpretation
of that so called enlightenment
peace of mind is a state difficult to discover
because it cannot be truly achieved
it is the illusion of sophistry
peace can be found in small amounts
in the laughter and love of friends and family
in the arms of a lover
in the warm sun of summer's day
in the grandeur of summer night

666

The cat once killed again takes up her plume
to write in the air with a sinuous tail;
a valiant attempt at true life to resume.
Penultimate of nine? Or eighth to fail…

The literate lioness’s spectral quill
fresh-dipped in fountains of blood-red ink
(along with sharpened claws) warns: time to **** –
but God would give us all more time to think.

Although certain races and social classes
display not a trace of Curiosity,
Humanity (being higher than their *****)
should counter such donkey-like paucity.

Boredom is beastly – it burdens the mind
one should be able to sustain some good talk…
If you finally perceive they are not of your kind
then pity them. Smile – and let the dullards walk.

A good conversation (by block-heads reviled)
costs only the interest – it’s free of price!
This birthright of every man, woman and child
imparts life to variety, adding spice.

A bite on the tongue, or a shake in the pan
enlivens the food, while enhancing the taste.
Be it preaching or sophistry, blessed is the man
consuming such dishes, no wordage to waste.

Yet most are content to survive on stale bread,
or drive through for fries and a Happy Meal.
Then, quickly digested, the pleasure dead,
it’s on to the stop sign. Their tires squeal.

Attempting to talk with such silly people
whose frame of reference is mainly: What?
Can drive one to brewery, cloister, or steeple
in search of that city whose gates never shut.

When word, wit and wisdom flow out of the mouth
enjoyment sings welcome as springtime arrives.
But ignorance pushes the birds further south
re-freezing the surface of puddled lives.

If you need some assistance, go purchase a cup
or run down to the liquor-store. Brew up some tea.
Be sure that your affective filter’s not up,
grammar monitor running functionally.

Art, sports, philosophy, music or *** –
please make it a good one. The topic is moot.
Don’t bore me with shopping. Don’t mention your Ex.
But swim to the deep end or bend for my boot.

The cat is now road-****, her mission has failed.
One *****-life left. Let your next chat count.
Don’t claim that you didn’t know what it entailed,
were unsure of the topic, idea, or amount.

macbeth: it was (once) the owl that shrieked,
  the fatal bellman.

aye, and i too would ask the urban folk
concerning family and congregation
for any event apart from the most cherished:
for i love only those with whom i eat,
and abhor those with whom i drink:
for i deem them sour company.

and if in haste? from Canterbury seek New York,
there you'll learn a thing or two about
gnarling from a yew tree strained against
the ranks and rags of French nobility...
there, dear sir, will you learn the Welsh Churchill
acronym, by the index and middle i say:
pointing toward the sky as if to navigate
a seagull pooping fresh manna
onto a desert plain for an *oasis of sustenance.
clearly the U was never chiseled into bone or
marble, instead a V... which always confuses
my expertise (2014 GSCE gimmick,
expert-... ease? titillation? prioritising?
no wonder they send spies to south korea to
feed off jealousy of the porcelain skinned
and squinty eyed crap of Zen... because Tao
was the practice of not dipping your head in
a honey jar and running up to a beehive for
a Frenchy) / in Grecian (yes,
poets have abhorring punctuation,
they're donning a take on rasta roots: dreadlocks
  inserted between the talk of personal hygiene
   and vanity performances of family life solidification
to seem the ideal citizen).
      poetry really is an obscurity of prose,
      it's that ****** cousin you hide in the attic,
when you stage poetry against prose
you never, really, get a snooze button fault
while taking a microcosmos of thought to bed
  and "forget" reading something....
   a true testament to poetry? something Mussolini
might say... i am a fascist fetishist: in that
i am also a schadenfreude: a shadowy frau...
   i like to see fascism in others...
          well, you know, Hollywood got sickly sweet
over the years, there's no enough Bruce Lee films
to satiate the palette of middle aged crimbo men...
  don't expect a ****** to know the cartwheel mechanics
readying a girl into ballet...
       cos no attitude brings no Bolshoi, girlfriend.
oh god, how can this age and my contemporaries provide
so many stereotypes?! they're all gay...
         there's me with my pouting but really alcoholic-bloated
face, rummaging in pop culture under the exacting maxim
of: the idiots have all the confidence, the smart uns
      have all things Cartesian...
             you swarm over reactionary talk?
i guess modern people really want to engage in dialectics,
but the current sophistry, the current rhetoric,
     is only based (in bias) against any Cartesian intervention...
the "i think" doesn't precipitate into "i am"...
for example? even wittle Adoolf thought he was good,
but then world war ii and therefore kicked in,
    there was nothing good to be said, apart from
a historical endeavour as to why: the New Year's Eve
Ball of Vienna faked a smile to solidify a permanent
audience...
                      this fire-yawning rhetoric is part of
the zeitgeist (holy ghost) of our times...
                                it's enough that i'm reading the
news review contained in a sunday newspaper on a tuesday,
but another that i'm rereading lawrence lipton's
the holy barbarians at the same time... yep:
the father of the guy that interviews actors on that
show the actors' studio... where we learn all things
sentimental... just before Robbie Williams tightens
the noose and everyone's bloated...
which is odd: it was a promising afternoon...
           i know that society really wants to engage with
dialectics, i've been watching lemon-*******-sessions'
worth of cringe concerning Milo Yiannopoulos -
papa-dough-pu-louse (Greeks have surnames like
dinosaur names: word and verbiage in one go...
a bit like decapitating Anne Boleyn,
executioner on tiptoe) -
                 it would be far more easier to stage
a place by Shakespeare that it would be to stage a
conversation by Socrates... that's how difficult
practising dialectics is... so much so that people invented
diacritical indicators to syllable dissections of words
and then forgot to use them... buttnaked Adam of Essex.
but one thing caught my eye...
  not in a rude way... well... Bruce Willis in mercury rising...
      isn't the Greek a tad bit autistic?
those darting eyes, and whenever a confrontation emerges
the sunglasses are invoked? isn't the confrontationalist
an autistic phenomenon? isn't this autism?
   aren't people rebelling against the spaz?
   the cover-up is obviously homosexual, because there's this
underlying subplot... high functioning autism,
i might momentarily get an eye-contact...
       but anglophone psychiatrists have only two notations
to curate the spectrum of "mental" problems:
1. biting your nails...
          and 2. eye contact.
                  if psychiatry is philosophy without thinking,
then philosophy is psychiatry without being...
              catchphrase? i hope to god no.
               god... well: that's when you say:
i do have limitations in my vocabulary... hence the invocation
to a ulterior being, other than my self
                 (yes, the reflective version of the reflexive myself).
      sure as hell there needs to be a dualism
rather than a monism concerning the 1 + 1 = 2 humanism
of cogito ergo sum, can you imagine a consolidation?
how, in the 21st century (which wasn't that spectacular
even though the evangelicalists stressed was the zenith
and a basis for: no future) the two would never meet?
    if anyone Descartes poked fun at it too:
i'm pink, therefore i'm spam.
                                       can you imagine why some people
were diagnosed with schism that later referred to a mind?
            uncomfortable people for social cohesion are ill...
it's because the healthy people are whipped into
constructing society.
                               adding to the fact that if mental
and physical converged and were made equally obstructive
in hindering people, a fewer number of jobs / specialisations
would exist to counter such grievances...
      you term mental illness i term lethargy and
thinking turned into the equivalent of what the heart is:
de-automated heart turned into poetic muse...
                but otherwise? an automaton pump.
and when thinking becomes automaton prone...
       and when thinking becomes too conscious of perceiving
the body as caged, doubly in a world and earnestly
in the cycle of eat sleep **** repeat... when too much
theory pours into an abstracting pronoun of forgotten Latin
and resurgent Latin with a summary of ego...
   when that becomes a Shiva-likened extra limb...
               when thought becomes automated
  but the body isn't... when thought diverges from any
moral construct to be made intrinsic in the complement
of choice as its sole outlet,
                 all variations of thought necessarily translated
into a narrative die out... because, as it turns out,
              not all narratives are pharmaceutical escapisms
to the equivalent of medicating seriously...
            even though the sky is blue in winter
and all decaying flush of colour of autumn is long gone...
i feel no bolder to stampede against the earth's
tides insurrecting a name and month of birth
                                      as sanctimonious:
other than what the polity deems worthy for me to
inherit, that, which will be my epitaph
is all am worthy of, given such contortions: as already
evident.
    
take your heart to Scotland my good friar,
and then from on-high,
   as if between Edinburgh and St. Andrew's,
take the kingly route back south...
                    and learn to educate those who's
tongue was never kindred to cliche and barbarism,
were it not talk of puritanism and
    a hidden dialect: for no cockney would have ever
heard the seven bells,
                   and definitely shied away, spoilt,
from the meddling cuckoo;
and oh how small this world will seem,
       once you've been woven the greatest attire
of all you command to peacock,
   that operatic Monday through to Friday
that'll always be more than Gucci or an Armani belt...
    routine!

this debt, this book, this tort,
so overdue, uncivil wrong demanding reconciliation,
that the librarians sent the hoodlums
to remind me of my obligations

there must be unfinished, three or four Gebbie precursors,
lying about awaiting further final definition
unmarshaled me, unable to see them through to completion,
but my hindsight, my guilty plea, aided by an assertive,
rear self-kicking, offers me some motivation immediacy

When I see the Auckland Sky Center in photos,
a hard hatted man with softest heart always,
is on top, doing his native Aussie global
(in place) walkabout, better to see,
the cubature volume of the global poetry underneath his feet,
the poetic underworld, needing a
Gebbie supervisory drilling read down

Enough!

unsatisfactory above this ditty notation for one who
tenders unto me comforting words that
drill down so deeply, keeping,

"the night shall not disrobe you,"

that only a single rhyming word
is satisfactory but yet too,
is insufficient to capture
the audio of innards weeping

surely aware, the nighttime, is when I best my own analytics,
disrobing in a room of black letters on a white background
for all who stumble by moonlight on the bards of "perchance,^"
giving pieces of me to the those who not only read my verses,
but those who ken
that the unspoken spaces in between,
containers of what is not writ,
but only modestly well hid,
is where lies oft the more important script

and he gets that...

where the skills when most needed?
his precision will deserves artistry, not sophistry,
and I am flailing, failing inadequately to pay my overdue

it is early morn in Taranaki,
perhaps he will see this lackey's lacking insufficiency,
before he goes climbing man-made towers
that bear witness
to mens bigger dreams,

perhaps when he returns later tonight,
in a snifter of old malt scotch,
his "last one for the road"
he will see it floating,
and think of me,
this time, happily,
disrobing mine soul's own nighttime,
trusting him to keep all safe,
entrusting it to him,
and to Janet,
my best,
red and black,
sweetest dreams

<>
https://hellopoetry.com/marshal-gebbie/

9/5/17 13:55pm

Flavenickers sedigitated by seguidilla dignified by alvantage becomes a hambourne pristine clinamen of climacteric sterkles of headlong tantivy sweenedge reified into apotheosis as the yernage of opportunism becomes a rupestrian spoilsport for vagantes gilded by nomogeny to begrudge the foothot handspike in favor of varimax tentative tendentious temptations surveyed from the perch of kerygma in congruence with varsal vivat vastation against highbinder vecordy permissible to elastane habanera but thwarted by egintoch velocious moral quandaries hortatory in proscription rather than apothecaries of quidlibertarian salvage because of venatic intellectualism exhorting the death of bronchos and the secundine afterbirth of plenipotentiary venireman ventrilabral to mainstream religion reified by an astute mensuration of hylogenesis in palzogony with aggiornamento circumjacent to soteriology of hylozoism whorling around whippets whipstaffed with cippusture galvanized by earwigs of ommateum staggered in heterochrony dismal to vicariant breedbates of virgation because of the diminishing returns of hyperbulia in zealous forefront ideogeny argute in ignavia incompossible with athwart entelechy. Incondite inopinate laetification beyond laevoduction but rather rubefaction larruping schmegeggy because of its laxist lapses of lentiginose pointillism betrayed by apodictic falsehood flautinos of zoysia the lientery of apostasy lustrated by eunomia mafficking in victorious virtuosity embalmed by perscrutation of paroxytone triumphs of parabolasters gilded by venatic polyphiloprogenitive supererogatory papaverous pandora littoral to all supercherie darraigned by paltripolitan paduasoy conformism leading to yellowback kwashiorkor repugnant to ergotall kymatology entrenching koines that never bleat apologetically about kerygma klendusic to kerasine mishaps because of yashmak rejuvenation despite yaffingale keffels of notorious aurilave depredation of oikonisus nidifugous commorient end to the wedelning widows of defenestration vandalized by rampicks of vestigial protervity.

Ascham is arreptitious because of argute brocade laggards on areopagitic bandobasts of steeved steenboks wiseacres of arceate hubris against dholes of apyrexy of diallelus recapitulated into futilitarian dicephalus banjolin rigged by the ambsace of didascalic digladiated nomogeny diluvial to quats bereft of bywords enslaved by quatsch quidsworth monikers and sobriquets of anathema zaftigs milking gerenuk reedbucks amenable to nomography are a zanyism of the repugnant soteriology of autosoterism enjoyed by the most narcissistic people steeped on abseils of supercilious grandeur. The zoism of hypocrisy is a zolotnik of minoritarian sweenedge hoggets brainwashed by hodometry bickerns of sumpter transcending sundogs of bolar boltropes of calvering virtuality of bibliotaphs pismirists to the plebeian class of men groveling in subordination to elective privilege of confraternity.

Despite patriarchy ascendant in modern frames of heterochrony divergent from normal synchronicity lagging laystalled and incumbent in backlog, the kagus of cajoled willowish myrmidons muntjacs rejuvenate against moya mazopathia meharis mortiferous melodikons privileging metaplasm maximalism of relatively ergotile tourbillons seismic in contrition for topgallant nomothetic furor against the tootle of nemorivagant sexualization of tofts to individuation instituted by burroling tufthunters thixotropy anneals as a thewe of radicalism pilloried in scarlet ignominy worthy of malignant terramara in the tenendum of their backfired tacenda so abnormous in tautomerism of LPGT wegotism it deserves the starkest rebuke of xiphosuran plight aggrandized by guilloches of treachery a guignol of growleries esteemed by greaves for the gonfalonier rhubarb elemental to rheography emboldened by venatic retinaculum absorbed in joggled regoliths refulgent bordars against the boschveldt sell-outs interpunction favors boskets among. The foudroyant songket I have entrusted to the ears of man is the manifesto of laborious pandation of sottoportico sparvering against spavined scapple spetches incurring in self-spiflication toonardical in ingravescent grimsuetude yimpoking gribbean synoecy sprauncy only in mesothermic welters of roiled coacervation bontboks privilege as a radical staddle subfocal to ballasters of parabolasters engineered by plasmamium sulcate with furrowed ridges of rhadamanthine superjection of moral foibles ullagone because welkins are typhlophiles turncocking troating togated torpefied swevens of oneirocriticism so wallowed in sumptuary stirpiculture the jabirus vexed by intransigent staffage of girouettism syndicated into indolence that many marvels subsume fulgurant carnage rather than synallagamatic symposiarchs of rhotacism engrained on hearty plashy plafonds and placets of paltripolitan gravamen spumid with lukewarm wrath exacted by none other than Saint Michael the Archangel himself. Troudasque sectile gimdermangs gilded by martingale tytanium of terresting nimongue which exalts clorence of the fairgoers fairleads against laystalled lugsails paravented by redstrall humdingers by killcrops galvanized only by the flarium despite the tricotee popjoys of artistic hyjamb wrangling with wragatek graklongeur intense in soporific torpor which always resorts to wesperm aggravated by wipples of weatherboard heralding the deceased trimkoppas trying to abort virtue by flipcreeking ****** orientation in stigstall between tolerance and prurience demands a hamparthia to liberate us all from its deleterious shackles.

Flindaggers balkanize crosslingers against their own perseverance hinkergs to autarky gentreng in rhomboses of fulgurant whittawers pulverized by their emacities of zenkidu reiterated and recapitulated in usufruct typhonic in tourbillon guilloches against guignol of rhyparography as we mount against mountebanks titivated modernity vauntlayed in angstroms and stacks of eudiometry to reclaim our birthright tisicky in loimic outrage tholing because of indigent naivety at the terreplein of swales surd and surdomute in their gross baragnosis congested by coacervated paltripolitan wens corrupted by the wergilds of rheotaxis as the wheelhouse of nacarat bannocks against jackanapes gossypine in relict bewilderment against baragouin synergies of lavolta barkentine bargemasters retinaculum promotes captain of aberdevine coquetries of barm and barleycorn adorned with bayadere cisvestism emblazoning bluepeter incontinence nebulizing priority with mandarist statism hostage to nebelwerfers of cynegetic supra-eximious trichosis-scoria stridulation articulated within the range of fondink to govern (well beyond it to invent) mutually exclusive to intelligible human recourse (to potentially spiflicate it) to appease the scop cartel currycombing individuation at rarefied avinosis in the aurochs of intellectual heyday cuculine with rabid eccentricity in the cryobiology of their chilgoza tympanies of rhotacism and Zionism the corrupt clepsydra from which future is ascertained by chronometers cricoid in pigmentocracy the crampon for a diseased matriarchy and an absenteeism of patriarchy cobbled together in macarism for humane culvertage cosseting impetus above rhyme and corbel filemots in contrahent earwiggery contecking ingenuity at the melliferous behest of melismatic miasma devolved into fragrant algedonic overdrive supererogatory to sustained campanile obeisance decrying every foisted evil lurching leeward in congelation and regelation because of cephaligation so advanced it staggers every ignoble influence to coagulate as a companionway against commonefaction at compital junctures of wangermist for collimation in hortoriginality such that the bronteum bifurcates into legionnaire prowess of the coemption of intelligentsia to berate codswallop for utilitarian aims predicated on strictures of deontology cobaltiferous to entryism such that decisive cloture in plenary indulgence erects an apolaustic eumoireity and deipnosophy against sophistry of sophisticated cosmopolitan lionized fakery manufactured by clochards rather than winterbourne victoria against hobbled tacenda of clerihew zizels of zendik the clatfart of retched cittosis the cirripeds to groveled chorizonts of depredated mutualism for taghairm priapism chordees of chomage.

The wokerists will wobble in tergiversation as chevrotain chatelaines balk at intimations of maritodespotism incumbent upon chamfrain moral scruples adscititious to the moral houndstooth ceratoid in celibacy as the ceraceous populism of God trounces the wicked from principalities in a cakewalk tilt of transcendent trance from chirogymnasts of supreme order and efficiency endearing the caffoy of thigmotaxis wed with caenogenesis the cachalots jiggermast to every gossypine quidnunc of jerkinhead jazzetry precedent to elitism jarveying ignorance as pother overcomes iter as iberis galvanizes all eventually to reject banjolin as a useless bisontine spoilsport of ragtaggers of indolence petulant of inferiority ixiodic only in fraternal sobriquets of mangled izzat of zouk resonant against rebec popjoys desperate for zwischenzug bound by zygnomic haustellum sadly the heddle to intermediary tomorrows herpetic to quotidian lionization. The pitiful but necessary advent of zeze is such a transformative watershed to reaffirm the kerygma against zingaro misers monopolized by zoetic zonules of crafty dilettantism bankrupt hekistotherms barely even abiding by hights of peremptory squalor in wokism hilasmic in the most parched desert of diasyrm figuratively didappers for the most baseless dilruba dubitating in aimless furor aggrandized by rancor at normative valence cirripeds and barnacles to the most ultrageous algedonic moonshot derangement bloodshot with rancid periblebsis duarfing drysalter deadwood against diathesis of diathermic regalia fortunate to inherit suaviloquence of the reninjasque rather than banderols of insipid zeal for identity foreclosure. An advanced generation that demolishes the ideals of the davenport and simultaneously famigerates the daw bodaches of tritanopia or protanopia that un-decatises the slavery of the grognards of resourcelessness in laystall dentagra of demurrage against astragal to finally unleash American ingenuity muckraking with resolve to dissoluble conservation of momentary zeal into perdurable bionomic reforms against baseline asonia of ashplant reductivism against newfound arabas outfitted with alnager altarage to beckon new awakenings to heave the Earth from slumber into a docile peace that does not truckle to injustice any longer that propitiates racial, economic and political divides suddenly vadable by the vast majority of intelligent observers. Vagarian vastation of rheotaxis where vallidom is properly quantulated by variphone opiniasters throttling content to vast audiences amenable to traction of vasotribes integral to saltigrade advancements in lethargic vas becoming invigorated girth undergirding chatelaines broiling ventrad verderers of verbalism to vernalize vorticism for the great cloveryield of mofettes bordering moulins engorged with swarf and swape for scapple.

(Addendum) We need to rejuvenate a dying whisper faint in the alpenglow of gloaming hopes and aspirations fielded by the morose surly burlesque fanfaronade of grimgoires bolstered by counterfeit pretenses in the garb and posture of scaldabancos of “apothecary naivety” the porsters of illiteracy connumerated among the vengeance of men witwanton about the fate of badinage of proxemic resurgence of proxenete equipoise in unified fronts of orthobiosis in every sense of the word against catacoustic phonocamptics of sledged skullduggery fighting with fossors for tantiemes of tautomerism of the thalassiarchy enabled in great behest that God prevails as the victor of his creation supernal and superlative above all human notions of academics because of academicism. We must never be mercenary in pandering puckery in pulicide against the misunderstood who stand ventrilabal at the foregrounds of sumpter that prevent degringolade by fastening an intellectual revolution so powerful that morality is clinched without compromise such that the yarnwindle of noogenesis and copacetic stridulation empowers eximious achievements beyond our wildest imagination ****** with yerked intimacy in nuclear marriage between compassion and fervor for religious reawakening never defeated by enmity congealed in thrombosis because of the yomp of saddled moralism cretified by secular artifice the wadmal of so much contecked boodle among monolithic habanera the eyeservice of every cordwainer to their great tumult and shame in protervity’s wainage wallfish so decisively resentful of aurochs binded by windbound visibility the easement of modernity compels obeisance among the susceptible winklering their way into invidious sapwood crutches of diablerism hadeharia of zendik intrepid in curglaff of adscription (a tumultuous babeldom of boggarts and spectral whispers of recidivism in macropicide) trying to clench the jawhole agape against agapeism through the agency of one dubitation among a congregation vouchsafed unanimous in consentient concords and conclamations of vehement agiotage of leeward prosperity in moral woodshedding perilous to the hands that shed innocent blood. The wormcast wrothed in whorled tourbillon guilloches of synquest the wurleys of weasand foresaw about the jackstaffs of ventriloquial witness to jacquards oppositive to solipsism may the jaggery sink into the depths of the barathrum and moral clarity be resurrected from the empty tomb that the jangada of life provided more abundantly dashes the dacnomania of the craven thief prowling among janskies and jarveys accentuating plight caducary because of magnanimity forever blemished by the lineage and lineaments of recurrence in moral cagoules nazing spathodea with chlamydate calipace of wretched crotaline indemnity for shadows among the umbrage to terrorize the living with the revenants of sheepish cameralism of unspoken triage becoming stark brittle tenacious brinkmanship in the war for all souls spared by the combined florilegium of all saints on All Saints Day (among many a prominent juncture in the seminal developments of ecclesiastical imperium for youthquakes and yestertempests meeting at a truce for human beatification).

Relegate the canezou as revival aborns upon the aboriginal hubris of Jew and Gentile of catacoustic bonanzas the cofferdam between serf and vassal the catalfalque of many obvious triumphs punctuated among nidor for nepionic sophianic nerkas and balzarines rooting against rotocracy in the babeldom of its bethel exhorting latitude in licentiousness rather than cordial restraint in tethered immunifacient warmth provided abundantly to the special bond of nimiety between God and his Creation rather than the paucity of vengeance shared by fallen ones and their obsolescent tyranny of liberticide at all costs against nitency, nisus and oikonisus. No longer are we famished by such demarcations and the leap of God translates into bickerns of scaldabanco among petty primacy resorting to proethnic nightjars of nimbose cultivation to immiserate one half of the poor to fight the other half while making the rich richer for the rest of eternity. To solve this, A gavelkind stolonicity bequeathed to us despite bijugations of oligarchy bindling every stunsail creancer of biocenosis creating plenary majorities of conscience peremptory and palatable championed by jordans of every stripe exists to beatify our conditions despite our virgations abroach of blague among bobbinets for boutade ultrageous in cisvestism the nihilist harpoon of grampus stulms against stannaries suberic in harvested outrage to subduplicated logic beyond idempotent subintelligitur ictuating sylphs among ignicolists fueling conflagrations of mortiferous dholes of rampant truculence and barbaric backwardation despite attempts at revalorization notarized by God’s tribunes rather than stolid pertinacity in imbruted inaniloquence. We must storge ourselves on protracted periods of conation to avoid the bowdlerization of wokism to centralize the ommateum’s knowledge in omphalism despite strictures of anathemas of mandarism seeking its own ulterior skullduggery.

To prevent egelidation of witchknot woolds of nebelwerfers wokerist against human enlistment in mercenary economies we must use larithmic gradgrinds of cliometrics and mantissa to predict radical change and preempt the dirigisme from atocia in vacuefied periblebsis to create elflock to prolong human mastery with eirenics decisively against ekka by using emmetropia to master sensiferous domain integral to human dominion over insensate depredation by vulcanized mackintoshes ruthless in LLM emotivisms (and shame on the doctorates who redact these provisions to make it more inclement for free exercise and latitude to reign) so that machines are not a machination but rather a dutiful subservience to protensive bonanza capitalized by syndicalism without mandarist overreach potentially with some Universal Basic Income stipulated in the gradate rollout. In an ad hoc conclusion because I want to publish this manifesto with the greatest exigency, I exhort moral valor and conclamations of prayer whether in silence or in communion and I commend the power of confession and repentance to reform the human soul and redact the human mind into attempts at perfection gilded in amaranthine hues of alpenglow saffron glory. Amen!

i've said this once before, and i'll say it again: i don't buy into dreams, i find them a bit ******, b-movie versions of reality, but sometimes, just sometimes, just before i tap the snooze honey and talk myself into: wake up early, wake up early, wake up early, tomorrow it's going to be california sunny (which it now is), i get a dream, and not some *******-riddling dream, a dream where i am lying next to a staircase and reciting poetry - there was a yesterday? - and i can clearly remember one line from the poem:

  the best verse i ever composed,
  was the verse i spoke -
     and never bothered to write down -
the poetry that belongs solely to ανέμοί -
the deity of the winds,
and of souls -
     of those who reside a tier above
hades, in his ***** - anemoi -
   and yes, diacritical entry points
for the english reside with i and j -
as is worth noting:
   there's a buddhist maxim of concern
with respect to the modern greeks
(let me keep you up to date) -
that famed mirror of *beryl -
   stop polishing the ****** mirror,
you will not see much clearer,
stop polishing that ****** mirror,
wash your face instead, slap it even,
punch it till you bruise your knuckles -
by polishing that mirror too much,
you'll end up as the madman
xerxes of persia, demanding the sea
an allegiance and sub. obedience by
whipping it! we're not talking culinary
inventions of whipping cream,
or heating milk for a cappuccino froth!
if the english are going to be this *******
lazy with their abstinence of applying
diacritical indicators to ease the pain
of dyslexics with pseudo-chinese
  clarifying syllables - why should you?
you? the greeks, why spoil the beauty
of the already ready alpha-beta -
    you're perfecting something that's already
perfect -
        look at the trojan eve - look toward
the roman adam -
stark ****** naked; the greeks seem
to be donning five pairs of socks,
two pairs of trousers, six shirts, seven
pairs of underwear, gloves, and a burqa
to top it all off!
**** it, let's do what the english have
done: return to nature, embracing naturalism,
nudism, whatever the hell you want
to call this nightmare.

as any book review inquires -
  a book there is, how language began,
by a fella who learned some amazonian
language, a daniel everett -
who claims counter-claims vs. chomsky
and pinker -
  who says - citation, please!
he maintains that mental disorders do
not support the notion of a language *****,
for (he argues) there are no language-specific
disorders...
  
          yup... apart from dyslexia,
i guess that means: you can't count from 0
to 100, or give me a 3 x 4 answer,
nothing language specific about that.

ah blimmin' heck, i can't believe that i turn
into this jeckyll ******* when i had two
sharpshooters -
    well... **** happens.

then comes a video including douglas murray,
sometimes you need a pompous english
*** to speak a little -
   jaw-dropping moments of perfected
sophistry -
         which the english are only capable
of, which they invoked by inventing
the american / australian accents -
covert mechanisms -
   don't invite diacritical distinctions
(which, by the way, pivot on the chinese
having not letters, but syllables -
hence the mongols in crimea,
   hence the mongols tickling cracow,
as the myth of the trumpeter goes
in the hejnał mariacki - heynow -
   st. mary's trumpet call) -
shim shiminy shiminy shim shoom
         ask for favours of off a broom...
   tipsy turvy -
        and what do you call a sikh on a construction
site? sinjit you 'av a brick on yir turban;
never feels right, him with a turban,
me with a hardhat, i'm guessing he's
praying that if a brick falls,
     it will bounce right off the cushion.

there was something else...
ah! the other type of intellectual, the quirky one,
i.e. david graeter talking about
money, and how adam smith was wrong
in speculation, and how you don't
find the most primitive societies engaging
in 1 x cow = 40 x chicken...
    i still don't understand why there is
haggling in marrakech bazaars -
    or how 1 x cow ≠ 40 x chicken
  but 40 x chicken + a wife for my son...
intellectual pomp vs. intellectual quirk -
can't decide -
         and money is a fascinating concept,
nietzsche was nearing the prospect,
but the much anticipated "transvaluation
of all values": well... to be honest?
   that's just a one word book: money...
but here comes the biblical fiasco -
          oculus namque oculus -
  auge für ein auge -
        simply, eye for an eye -
which bewilders me, given usury -
     interest rates, the supposed "pricelessness"
of certain artworks...
        it's way past jurisprudence -
    that meaning has morphed into
a banality, nay, an abomination of economic
ethics...
          the phrase no longer applies so much
to a jurisprudence regard of affairs -
   the term has become more and more
economical.

it terms of orchestration, wiring latin to english using the latins' alphabet, and advocating a different movement of the knight to the queen in placement, biased on the chequers given the |, it might be that in latin the grammatician would say postponed words were designated the categorisation of adjective if trafficked purely on the right... but in english interpretation of latin, with the surviving alphabet... and the missing burnt out eyes of balthazar seeing written hebrew like king chalres iii seeing cyryllic... what if... what if in terms of | alice decided, through the mirror, that adjectives became nouns and nouns took on the noumenon form of being omni-grammatical in terms of allowances of usage to trans / to transverse?

this is how sophistry happens on the “sly:”
the crusades... eh eh eh... em em em...i i i i...
such eloquence for the proper elocutions
before the world actually revolved...
it’s called the onomatopoeia of thought...
it should sound like it’s scripted...
but it’s not scripted...
instead it’s a scarred thought that might have
sounded an octave above the mezzo;
well... at least both of us sung the song...
whatever medium was discriminated at less
whether that be kareoke
(the japanese word for mime) or poetry;
anyway... i learned to stutter and think of
toes like twinkle twikle litter star... how i wonder
what you could articulate with einstein cracking the nursery rhyme
for an equation that dazzled everyone
in the symphonium of ceaceless ahs and sighs
before red october
revolved into the futures of the november
revolution of '89 /
grey november they called it...
they gave us treaties for the autobahn in colour...
and it turned out to mingle the echo black and the voiced
white... in a medium that only desired *quies genesis.