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katewinslet Sep 2015
Keine Eindeutige Regel may well to your Genaue Anteil der ende Flüssigkeit sowie Mehl, other bei der Brotherstellung verwendet Werden, gegeben Werden, Weil einige arten von Mehl zu absorbieren viel mehr ende Flüssigkeit als weitere. Realmente es wurde jedoch festgestellt that will About three cupfuls Mehl Wird i'm Allgemeinen für JEDE Brotlaibchen notwendig.

Mit on this Bekannt ist, Kann sterben Mehlmenge ium home Betrag von Brot, sterben vorgenommen Werden soll, manages Werden. Pass on Menge der erforderlichen ende Flüssigkeit hangt von der Menge sowie Artwork von Mehl Ausgewählt ist, Aber in der Regel sollte ations ungefähr Ein drittel which means that viel ende Flüssigkeit Wie Mehl sein. Das spezielle Elle Verfahren, das für sterben herstellung von Brot Ausgewählt ist, Wie Später Erläutert Wird, sets Menge der Hefe verwendet Werden sterben. Wenn Ations Nicht erwünscht ist, das Brot anstieg schnell zu Haben, Eine geringe Menge, ETWA Ein Achtel Kuchen Presshefe oder Couple of Esslöffel ende Flüssigkeit Hefe, genügt Für jeden Laib; Jedoch, perfect für schnelle ansteigen gewünscht Wird, Müssen zwei, drei oder vier Douleur and so viel Hefe verwendet Werden, um Eine ausreichende Menge von kohlendioxid around kürzerer Zeit herzustellen. Ations sollte Daran Erinnert Werden in that ,

typically the weitere Hefe verwendet Wird, Desto schneller Wird sterben Notwendige Petrol Erzeugt Werden sowie, Wie gezeigt BEREITS Wurde, ist sterben Bildung von Fuel, das Brot leicht sowie porös macht. NEBEN Mehl, ende Flüssigkeit und Hefe, A Teelöffel Salz, 1 Esslöffel Zucker sowie A single Esslöffel Fett Sind Die Bestandteile inside der Regel Für jeden Laib Brot verwendet. Utensilien for any Brotherstellung Notwendige Ausrüstung .-- Nicht zahlreiche Utensilien for the Brotherstellung erforderlich Wir, Aber sterben, sterben Erforderlich Sindh, Müssen von der Richtigen Kunst, Wenn Die-off Besten Ergebnisse erzielt Werden Sollen. Es umfasst Eine Schüssel und Deckel, Ein Mehl Sieb Messbecher h Der Standard-Größe, Eine für feuchte and also a dog's hair kick the bucket Trockenen Zutaten, Messlöffel, including a Crash, Messer und Spachtel Einer zu messen; a fabulous langstieligen Löffel zum mischen; sowie Backen und Brot, Pfannen. Es sei denn, sterben Tabelle, to make certain that sie als Formplatte verwendet Werden, Wird realmente es notwendig sein, zu der genannten addition Geräte, Eine Formplatte von geeigneter Größe zu schaffen. sterben Rührschüssel Kann Ein irdenes Ein oder Ein Metall sein. Perish Größe der verwendeten Pfannen sowie das Product Günstige Samsung Galaxy S4, aus dems sterben Schalen gemacht Werden sollten Gleichsam sterben aufmerksamkeit. Pass on Laibe Werden gefunden, schneller sowie gründlicher,, ideal Nicht zu groß gemacht Werden gebacken Werden, und Jeder ist throughout Einem separaten Formular gebacken. Pfannen, sterben Eight Zoll lang, Several 1/2 Zoll breit und A variety of Zoll tief Sindh, Sind von Einer praktischen Größe. It is possible to aus Zinn, Eisenblech, Alloy und Einem wärmebeständigen Glas, sterben Einzige voraussetzung ist, Dass alle Any einem Backen Pfannen aus dems Gleichen Werkstoff sein, weil, Wie Wärme dringt schnell einige Materialien als weitere, sterben Zurück Erfolgen Dann mehr einheitlich sein.

Komfortable Ausstattung .-- Während sterben Utensilien during Abb. Step 2 Sind alle sterben tatsächlich bei der herstellung von Brot, Brot Mischer, von Denen Eine Craft ist for Requirements certains Kochens, Teil 2 beschrieben erforderlich Wir Sind, Werden sehr bequem Durch Depart this life Hausfrau, Pass on Grosse Mengen von Brot auf einmal backen Müssen sowie gefunden Werden wer sun hat Nicht viel Zeit, ium zur Arbeit zu widmen. This specific arbeitssparende vorrichtung verwendet Werden Kann und Natürlich Ebenso oft Durch Die-off Hausfrau, sterben Nur eine geringe Menge eines Brot macht verwendet, Wie zum beispiel Zwei bis vier Brote; Jedoch puede ser ist eigentlich nicht von ihr Benötigt Werden Samsung galaxy s6 edge 64GB, wie sie can easily Eine solche Menge leicht und schnell zu Handhaben. Ein Kühler, der Aus einem Rahmen durch Drahtnetz bedeckt sowie von Kurzen Beinen Unterstützt Besteht, is likewise to choose from Eine Bequeme Appliance Samsung galaxy s6 edge+, nr ations als ein guter Ort, Auf dem Brot legte abkühlen dient. WENN EINES about this Geräte Nicht verfügbar ist, Ersetzt Jedoch leicht Durch Strecken Eines Drahtgeflecht Über Einem Holzrahmen Hergestellt Werden.
Keine Eindeutige Regel may well to your Genaue Anteil der ende Flüssigkeit sowie Mehl, other bei der Brotherstellung verwendet Werden, gegeben Werden,
katewinslet Sep 2015
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katewinslet Sep 2015
Der Verbrauch von Puten with living room United states of america Sun hat sich er or him laufe der Jahre zugenommen. Ations Ist Nicht mehr during erster Linie ein Erntedankfest und Weihnachten gegessen, Jedoch Das ganze Jahr Über. Der Prozess der Massenproduktion von Puten für family den Menschlichen verzehr ist wie barbarisch, Wenn nicht mehr therefore,
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Die Zwergen Armee kommt
und Wir sterben.
They come prepared
For an all out war,
And they are ready
To fight tooth and nail
Until no man is left standing.
With supplies unceasing and
Weapons of mass destruction,
All of our lines of defense will fall.
We are not capable
Of withstanding the continuous onslaught,
Indisputable is their power,
Unending is their greed,
Unimaginable is their cruelty,
Unwavering is their faith
In complete and utter victory.
Inevitable is our demise,
Inapt are our defenses,
Inexperienced are our allies,
Inexorable is their march to
The beat of our doom.
Die Zwergen Armee kommt
und Wir sterben.
Passion drives them onwards
To conquer all lands that
Dare to oppose them.
We can not hope to last
Like the Spartans at
The Battle of Thermoplyae
No matter how strongly
Our laconism inspires us.
As mankind’s future dims
And is ultimately vanquished
Before our very own eyes,
We can only hope
That our end is quick
And merciful in execution.
Die Zwergen Armee kommt
und Wir sterben.
As I watch the heads of
Friends and family fall,
The decapitation of hope
Is as absolute as the blood
Smeared across the castle walls.
We refused to listen as
They cited holy scripture
To vindicate the necessity
Of our annihilation.
We held strong to our faith
In eternal glory as martyrs
For our philosophies and convictions,
And they bore witness
To our determination,
But we bore witness
To their determination
Only to watch it demolish
Everything we cherished.
Die Zwergen Armee kommt
und Wir sterben.
Die Zwergen Armee kommt
und Wir sterben.
I have uttered my final statement,
To forever be the last
Hoarse whisper of my existence,
“You will see the error of your ways,
And I will not repent for the sins
You claim I have committed.
I will let the all knowing
Judge and condemn you all
For the atrocities committed
By your people.”
Then my blood soaked
The soil of my Earth
As my entrails slid out of me,
And I fervently tried to
Force them back inside,
But it was all in vein.
And my final vision
Before complete oblivion
Was my still beating heart
In the hand of my enemy.
Die Zwergen Armee kam
und Wir starben.
Wrote this today. "Die Zwergen Armee kommt und Wir sterben" means "The Dwarf army comes and we die." At the end is the same but in past tense. Enjoy!
Don't be afraid to die a little,
for the parts of you who die
fertilize the parts of you
who yet grow.
-
Habt nicht Angst vor 'nen bisschen Sterben,
für die Teile von dir wer sterben
nähren die Teile von dir
wer noch wachsen.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.good, send me to prison, dox... whatever... with my knowledge of obscure Islam... i might make some friends; come to think of it, i will be saved, from perpetuating this quasi St. Augustine soliloquy.

if there are these... young men...
of combat age...
  almost ready to play the pawns...
"eager" soldiers...
what the **** happened
to the women of fertile age?
frozen their eggs,
gambled biology
and gave birth to a down syndrome
expose aged 40+?
i too thought,
that Zeus could, but never would,
**** Hera...
  instead, seeking concubines,
to provide humanity with
the myths of the demigods.
so men... of fighting age...
    and... a ******* walrus harem,
with women,
of a fertility age...
supposedly, miraculously...
  "missing"...
throw me a danish, and a glass
of milk...
i need a laxative...
     to digest this piece of info.
as a man:
i'm done, defending the most
obscure existentialist statement
forced upon me...
      within the confines of:
cue: woman...
         i'm a dodo adherent...
and if there is no dodo
excavation to fulfill a continuum...
luckily...
i'm not some idiotic geneticist
spectacle of fanaticism:
ich sterben, alles nutzen...
         herr junggeselle Kant...
what are my genes,
as a worthwhile impetus?
        to procrastinate before
the altar of procreation?
               i thought that western
society pledged its allegiance
to "individualism", solipsism, autism...
         why should i pledge
an alleged alliance to a future?
       oculus per oculus...
     who are these people,
hardly dictating me, and more,
"persuading" me...
   to invest in this... project...
this...
first a celebration of independence,
and then, a shackling of
said independence,
  into a familial rigor, and discipline?
so said first...
   but not said first,
invoking the unsaid second...
   hitlerjunge...
             so said unsaid second...
people can have their global
speaking tours...
  i have gnat of an english neighbor
to deal with...
  who took the authoritarian
alternative... just shy of...
telling me when it was appropriate
for me to take a ****...
given, he, aged 50+ and his bride,
40+ gave birth, to a, ******* ******!
- at that age....
passing on the, "genes",
let alone "memes" (is no longer an
option):
                   but surrogate
parenting, in the form of adoption,
is...
  but of course, the neighbor
owning to his own business,
will receive the front of the parental
frustration, of a people,
too old, to receive the status
of fatherhood / motherhood...
more like... papa-grand-p'ah
and mama-grand-m'ah...
      i know my boat has already sailed...
i never wished to travel to las vegas
to take a gamble...
     why would i enforce some
obscure fatherhood desire
onto a woman, who has clearly
not established herself,
well enough, into 20+ years prior?
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2019
aesthetic is etiquette
             is:
     what is & isn't
                          either:
yet is both: in that they
are the same:
disparaging meanings...

nouns: the source
of ultimate meaning,
crux words...
and the source of
the thesaurus...

i wasn't looking
for a mathematical
conflation of grammar
either...

but...

   aesthetic ≠ etiquette...

but...

  it does! to keep up
with the formality
of norm, of power,

then
(the)
   aesthetic = (the) etiquette,
but there is no "the"
to begin with...
yet...

         if the aesthetic ≠ the etiquette...
why, either?!
dumb questions usually
prescribe
a continued willing
to perpetuate:
unquestioned...
hence the dumb questions...
my dumb question
lacks any elaborate ploy
to topple the status quo
for the sole reason that...
my alternative
matches
  no genius of the originator
basis...

wordings are not
simply chanced to
be worth debating
a miscarriage
of implementing
the averted coin-flip...

(funny, how the articles
prop up,
miraculously)...

     etiquette?
a macabre variety
of aesthetic...

       nothing more...
but... etiquette is
still subordinate of
aesthetic...
isn't it?

              hardly:
etiquette is still
subordinate off
aesthetic...
is it?!

               a month spent
in a monastery of a novel...
cradle these words
unto a course
of nullification...

if i'd utter them in
a clutter of sparrows:
i'd be a equivalent to a mute
stone...
if i'd utter them in
a lion's harem:
i'd be a cat's meow (if not less)...
if i'd utter them in
the crow's shamanism
of all shadows...
i'd still be less
the croaking hark
of a voice that
might dictate: obey...

    so...
                      so...
ah...

                 was kommen:
was ist...
            und alles was:
                ich, ich sterben...
ich war geboren?
                        ich war
nie sein: geboren....
          ich war sein: sterben!
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
wasze ulice, nasze... kamienice...
    
boasting Jews of Poland...

Kraków "snow"
  (ashes from Auschwitz
falling on the old capital,
of human remains...
they called it:
     szaryśnieg -
                 grauschnee)...

the marching hybrid
song
         ich bin zu schuld...
   ich bin deutsche nicht
deutsche: ich bin
alles: europäisch...
  die letztemann!                

feminism according
to Leni Riefenstahl...
no women among
the Nazis?
my my... how sexist!
eine makellosfrau!
            eine schnellblond!

oh my! my!

mein mutter
still confuses

  joseph goebbels with
hermann göring -

did you know...
****** was a commoner,
but heinrich himmler
was of the noble sort?
yeah... why expect
a nobleman to exhort such
banality to re-compensate
                          the guillotine?

two decent Nazis though:
Rudolph Heß...
und...
       Erwin Rommel...

   die zwei!

  beside the two?
             curators of evil,
these h'amricans...
with their puritanical excuses...
always the army of excuses...
the Americans constitute
an army of excuses...
never an "ideology"...
but always the "excuse"...
purposive in being adamant
on the metaphor of good,
never the metaphor of evil...

      always the crux-built
fracture of foundation...

die dritte...

                  Karl Dönitz...

hamburger army...
sure... love you...
              Chinese Levi -
Bangladeshi shirts...
Kenyan hamburgers...
and you wonder why
there is an economic displacement?
my people were happier
under a Communist regime...
with an iron-works factory...
simply because...
McDonald's didn't provide
jobs for a hundred people,
but because the iron
factory provided work for
1000 people...

       war... there were always too forms
of war...
          oddly enough:
i'll find you the Nazis i admire...

       because, "oddly" enough,
there are some i admire...
   well... let's call them the trinity...

     you can't make the bargain of reverting
totalitarianism on all the ****...
the argument follows:
there were some,
who resisted...
            and i name, but three.

your turn to play the poker;

what did
amon goeth say about
the Polish king Casimir the great
welcoming Jews into Poland?
very little...
either gassed them,
or shot them doing
beside the menial tasks
of quasi-labor.

yes... the holocaust did happen...
6 million+ jews died...
as 6 million+ cows die in a
slaughterhause (schlachtenhauß)...
but who did really die
in the holocaust?
   beethoven died,
            wagner died,
         leibniz died...
            mozart... goethe...
nietzsche...
     they died...
der deutschegeist sterben!
                 and the german spirit
is not the hebrai spirit
                  what dies remains dead...
unless it's born from
a hebrews' stubborn pact of
agitating a god to continue his promise:
one divine intervention,
mythical at this point...
and then... yo-yo toying with
promises, with prophecy upon prophecy...
but never delivering, only teasing...
till the people believe themselves...
   and a load of other drunken *******...

lucky me to write this drunk,
the sober me gets to appreciate
the cricket world cup.
A slight quiver from the bow in your back
I come on strong like a fatal attack
Hunting you down
A hushed whimper in your throat condemns
The subtle undertones of shameful whims
Cutting you down

A silent breakdown in the guise of guilt
Laying waste to a temple built
Crumbling down
A lucid dream where you all four come
Expecting nothing, but for me to run
Gunning you down

So, it has come down to this
Sinking further between your lips
Holding your hips I aim to fix
This memory with another hit

Self-soothe with a fading bruise
All there is left of you
Leaving you down
Tip off the cops in this ****** plot
Left unpursued with a final thought
Burning you down

So, it has come down to this
Sinking further between your lips
Holding your hips I aim to fix
This memory with another hit
Erase her graceful face
Erase her staying taste
Erase her hopeful trace
Erase her
Erase her

(Ich möchte sehen, dass Sie sich für Ihre Unwissenheit brennen. Ich will sehen Sie spucken Blut, du verdammte Hure. Es gibt nichts, ich will in meinem Leben, außer dich leiden sehen aus erster Hand. Ich könnte glücklich sterben wissen Sie nahm das eigene Leben, also, wenn Sie wirklich wollen, mich glücklich zu machen, dann gehen ******* do it. Ich werde weinen gottverdammten Tränen der Freude, wenn du weg bist, dass eine Garantie ist. Gehen Sie weiter und hassen mich, weil ich krankhaft bin, aber dieses realisieren: Sie wissen nicht, Scheiße, und du wirst nie, du Fotze stur. Ich werde dich in der Hölle zu sehen.)
Tat Deutschland hat ihren Tag
tat wahre Krieger bekommen Gerechtigkeit
lassen Sie mich in einem u Boot sterben
mit meinen gefallenen Rittern

Senden Sie es an den Boden
vergessen zu werden
Ich bedauere so das
Kein Schuss Die vier angestarrte Scheide

Im Kopf das Bumsen

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Lieber, ist dies für Sie.
Ich möchte Sie , stark zu bleiben , und ich weiß, dass eine schwierige Aufgabe ist . nur daran erinnern, dass ich hier bin für dich, und ich werde immer hier sein. Wenn Sie das Bedürfnis verspüren, zu sterben , denken Sie daran , dass ich mit dir bin. Ich hoffe, dass Sie mich ernst nehmen , und meine Liebe ernst. Ich gehe nicht weg, und ich hoffe, Sie werden auch nicht.
Guten Morgen,
Gute Nacht.
my lover Mädchen
Von,
Bluten- Diamanten
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2021
how often do ich allow myself to sing(en)?
how often do ich allow myself tanz!

nüchtern englisch:
               neckerei spleeing zunge
towing a ****'s tow-tied-double
for...

how often do ich allow myself to sing?
how often do ich allow myself tanz?

let the night come:
let me drink! let me sing! let me dance!
let me conquer the crescent of
the moon hunched
sitting on one leg folded
perched on a windowsill!

let me sing in a tongue i want to sing
in: in a tongue that's teasing
what words mean...
but not, quiet...

e.g.

  ein spielmann sah am wege stehn
die hexe habergeiß,
       es sprach die alte: sauf noch ein!
da wards dem spielmann heiß
ein spielmann sah em wege stehn
die hexe habergeiß,
  es sprech die alte: sauf noch ein!
da wards dem spielmann heiß
      der spielmann fing zu laufen an
    in das wirtshaus toll
da sprach der spielmann: sauf noch ein!
füllt mir die gläser voll!
der spielmann fing zu laufen an
   rennt in das wirtshaus toll
           da sprech der speilmann: sauf noch ein!
füllt mir gläser voll!

even now: a crow pecking...
stone stacked above a stone...
a cloud rumbling: echoes of a mountain...
drifting from the pop scythe of
teasing Buddhism...

alles: wie darlehen wörter:
   no longer teasing, bothersome ol'
buddha brainz...
           from almost not 100 years ago...
toward the old... the kind...
the forgiving dead...
    static murk and auburn wood...

from this Babylonian nurt:
   high cosmopolitan when
seeking affectionless consort...
             my crown, my crow...
i wish to sing but... singing is something
beside rhyme when facing
oriental borrowing...
the haiku...

          "we" have been much gratified by
expanding into the Oriental thought
prodding...
   the Mongol Invasion was
a revisionist step for some of "us"...
i write these words like
they they might be self-explanatory
compliments worth of an extension
of someone who doesn't desire to think...

the certainty of death but the wish
to wake up speaking neither
western slavic or english
is tremor... tremendous...
it tremors tremendously...
i hope for a horse:
i'm working for a horse via
a bicycle...
i have no interest in a car, mawn-beel...
or a mobile...
guzzing carbon shrapnel...
fish & toad... prized assets of coronation
worth of gems in a mythological
crown...

ein kork im die flashe: a cork in the bottle:
trouble with drinking wine
when you don't have a corkscrew
readily available in the house...
even at night: esp. at night...
korkenzieher: ich haben nicht:
ich nicht haben...

perfectly european grammar
not ancient Latin-whip-O...
      i have not...
  i not have...
              jaw-dropping Greek & Hebrew
leveraging: intactness...
they almost seem to whisper:
the volcanos sound the same...
the wind too...
and the same oiling of godly bodyparts
that do no resemble
oracles, phalluses or worship of
pyramids / miracles...

******* gloryhole videos...
and you wonder
at all that ******* missing in
the male parts...
while the woman can entertain
****** arousal: only because of them...
and she doesn't require for there
to be a *******..
bad luck(?) solo project
of the... uncircumcised, lot?

     cork in a bottle... the message
is clear... meandering for Emma...
that hierarchical queen
of... hypergamy: the gnome...
yes the frisky clansman & celt: repose...
ginger's argument...
no...
       walking abortions...
otherwise a posteriori:
the men who do not **** /
reproduce...
like ad nauseam: che guaverra
  t-shirts /
           deja vu... ooh dijon?
must be... a mush-****...
tarts and hu-SH-SH are not
exactly, necessary; are they?

if i'm watching a ***** it's on silent...
otherwise it's primarily
the picturesque sunset and sunrises
of giggling ****... wobbling too but
hardly a pint of milk from
those spandex / latex...
    silicon oozing fakes...

or i'm watching... no... i'm listen to *****
without seeing the images...
it's hardly not confusing but
i do remember...
when the two parallels met...
it was a ****** sort of
a magical adventure-land of
a month's worth of a summer
when...
love was leftover and managed
to be predictably soft... pouch-:
m'ah sacrificial lamb sort of: adventurous...

like golgotha was ever everest...
extend that crucifixion scene
armed with... less a wine soaked
sponge...
and an oxygen canister...
the altar of worship while...
to be honest?
the sacrifice is... mediocre...
concerning those who experienced much more...
plus the public spectacle
so it would have come to so much
less than when
having to... entomb a private torture
for some... shy... psychopath...
but out in the open?!
for all to see?

mediocre adventure...  how i tease!
but what isn't mediocre about
***** and crucifix...
staging orders...
summit of the rats!

of eis... of water... of spiegel...
of eisen...
             of beute...
         this mediocre payload...
this almost too iconic suffering...
some came after...
some must have come prior:
with greater magnitude:
and what... he died in... old age?
levelling the soot
of averages?

was denn?! was denn?!
wenn er wohnte zu sterben alt?!
i'm sleeping in englisch...
i die: i hope to spreschen
nichts, aber: diese!

für liebe von leute...
  ich abscheu haben
    klassisch musik-,
                it's not that there are
"too many notes"...
i just abhor the leverage of expectations...
people's names that become resounding
to a noun ascribed to chair...
congested history...
in a democracy:
in a Bolshevik democracy...
this... riddle... the immortal quest...
i gain a hotter **** than you...
my Robespierre...
     return to: that song...
my Charlemagne...
and all frictions return in amass...
i try i try some more: no!
is what's resounding...

               to hell with man and his...
then i'm doubly crushed with
what became of Copernican via
Darwinism and...
again... tridents are a must...
in the squalors of shadows...
    im das elend auf schatten...
                
i'll be waiting in some,
variation of a line a lineage a...
           same old:
   gleich alt...
                    the king and pauper...
before they...
might reclaim status of king
or... pauper...
the fizzying out the fizzle through
when standing before
the altar of
the "other", "last"...
culprit of gott...
        
death, herr tod...
        the equaliser... the democratic pardoner...
alles werden sterben...
        machen speicher in ein kino...
no?
          
       to speak a bilingual version
of english with no other more troubling
desire as to otherwise cling
to mythological zeppelins!
that must be... a troubling artefact.
Graff1980 Feb 2016
WW1
Intensity was the face he wore.
That grave and gravel voice
that made such guttural noises.
Face scratched with a thin greying beard.
Razors that cut against the grain.
A ***** that bled him.
The red that wet him
was not the barber’s blade
but bullets biting fiercely
dropping bodies near him.
Hearing nightly pleas,
Young boys cry
“Please, please let me survive.
Let me make it out alive”
While they dig their own grave;
In holes that tare both ways.
And on the other side
of the barbed wired enemy line
Other young men cry
“Ich will nicht sterben”
Still as stone and twice as stern,
he watches the world
and both sides burn.
Each rose plucked,
each stem broken,
replanted permanently in the battlefield
to feed the fierce war machine
which is never satiated.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2021
bier und mohr bier!
bier und mohr bier!
und mohr bier!
und mohr deutsche spresch(em)
und sher wenig
auf: alles angeschlossen...
mit ein britisch-stim'mung!
ich sterben:
ich leben...
    es ist: wie auch immer:
nacht!
                kommen sie: bald!
      hier du...    da: "sein"!
Souleater Feb 2018
Hoffnung hintern Berg vergraben
hörst um dich herum tausend stimmen die etwas sagen

Jeden Tag fröhlich pfeifend losmaschiert
im trott drin, den Schmerz mit einem Lächeln kaschiert
Der Rückweg zeigte jeden Tag das Ergebnis
war meistens für mich ein traurig Erlebnis

Stumm mit leisen Tränen
der Körper ausgelaugt
kaum zu sehen, nur am gähnen
war tapfer daheim,
zeigte keinem mein trauriges dasein

Wenn ich rede, wird es schlimmer,
da standen sie mir drohend gegenüber, die Gewinner
mit ihrem breiten Lächeln geschmückt
waren von meinem leid mehr als nur entzückt
Genießten die Macht die sie umgab,
immer wieder aufs Neue, jeden verdammten Tag
Seele brutal zerschlagen
nicht nur die Taten, auch das was sie zu mir sagten
ohne Rücksicht auf die Auswirkungen die kommen werden,
hatte mir in der Zeit mal vorgestellt wie es wäre zu sterben
keinen mut mehr zu haben,
sich unter seinem eigenen wert zu vergraben ...
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2018
in terms of ontology: all is permitted,
given that so much is left,
dangling upon a damoclean
                         thread of a single
horse hair...
                            of the unexplored:
ontology is a waiting game,
with what, already is,
   a fixation on the constraints
of: ex simiae:
                       hence my approximation:
**** similis...  
    it's still a desire to preserve
a base, an origin story transfixed by
the use of fungus...
      accidently swallowed a mosquito:
suddenly grew a ******* pinocchio...
and somehow, slyly:
fixating on keep the libido
                                     momentum...
that's crucial, that the momentum is kept...
yet i wonder...
     racism:
                       poland vs. senegal was
the first game when the rams bothered
to clash horns...
       oh i can be crytical when i see it
through a lense of: crypto-nationalism...
unlike the romance of the noble prize
being given to Milosz...
            economic migration background:
i'm not allowed to romance about it...
there's no "grand" furore to mind,
no expectation,
           and certainly no: bending the knee
of the hosts...
  ****! from calling them natives
i'm starting to think in american terms
of hosts...
                  given i'm an alien "body":
                 more or less a thought, prior;
but that was the first instance of
deviating from playing out the sport,
poland vs. senegal...
            ******* europe versus a people
who know of europeans...
                            belgians and the congo...
slim afro beauty that she was...
no wonder...
               could almost say the *******
came when i felt my frontal pelvis
bones was sore after she
                rammed her coccyx onto me...
but outside the realm of serving
seductive cocktails while playing
          cedric 'IM' brooks'
                                     satta masa ganna...
no, i'm just curious about
the dynamic, behind a word such as
racism...
   and language in general...
           who are the people who use
a first tier definition of a word?
          i'm sure language is as loose as
well oiled spaghetti in imitation of
a pit of snakes...
           and yes, the linguistic atomists
(akin to myself) who care to mind
                          diacritical exceptionalism
in uttering a micro-seance
      prior to a syllable... notably via
ü (the classical umlaut)
               and what could become an
applicability of orthography in english:
with, oh so many examples in need of
being addressed:
             namely: from pout,
               came pút,
                                pool
                           ­             (pül),
                and the disguised vowels
of english: putter versus a patter...
  the subtle elongation of the A
  in a: pāt on the shoulder...
i already know that my suggestion is
too impractical to be ascribed
a subsequence with a towed effect
being ascribed...
           but at least there's the observation,
in the open.

  with this one particular word,
what is it: from zenith to nadir,
  or from a nadir to a zenith?
    definition 1.
             first, or           definition 3. first?
vocab. inheritance tax...
or just mindless fronting concerning
the affair?
    
is it a priori:
   1. a belief or doctrine that inherent
  differences among the various human
racial groups determine cultural
or individual achievement,
  usually involving the idea that one's
own race is superior and has the right
to dominate others or that a particular
     racial group is inferior to the others

or 3. hatred or intolerance of
               another race or other races                 ?

seems rather contradictory that
there could be such a priori complexity
to begin with, to be inherent...

zenith / nadir
                   a priori / a posteriori
dictum would suggest
  that: definition no. 3 is a priori...

while definition no. 1 is a posteriori...

    which also allows a psychological
dimension and
    the Freudian-Jung dynamism to
"explain" the proton, neutron, electron,
egg shell egg white, yoke,
               sclera, iris and the pupil
dynamic invoked by the psyche-dissection
into compartment
of a consciousness,
                    a sub- and an unconscious...

definition no. 1 can't be a priori:
it's too worded to make sense of
what an a priori statement looks like,
i.e.: 1 + 1 = 2.

an a posteriori statement?
               given that 1 + 1 = 2 is an a priori
statement?
                                    √-1...
   ­  lo and behold!
             you get a letter! as substitute to
the meddling in numbers...
     and then from i, to iota,
                       and the concept of a pronoun
in english (gender neutral) you go...
                              wunderbar!
                ­       ja...
because you can begin with an:
a, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i...
                  clearly there's a priori
favour, to subsequently allow
a loss of explanation with a 1 + 1 = 2...
inheret bother:
      because when wasn't
         arithmetic ever akin to spelling?
the frequency of the letter-usage
compared to numbers?
      
              do you call the mann unable
to count or spell:
at the same time blind
            and deaf, synonymous?
what definitions behind a word
do you use?

what tier of a word are you making
                           allowances for?

using tier no. 1?
        or using tier no. 3?
   how can you even allow
an "ambiguity" of secondary tiers
of red...
               given there's no celtic ginger...
and shouldn't tht belong among
painters who can actually
see past the writer's daltonism,
  or x-ray in teutonic schwarz und weiß...

   a sch't'ern tongue:
          among, platzieren ziegel von die rot
                von Marienburg
...

what is the dictionary "ambiguity"
of red?
            
            one subsequent definition is:
BLAH!

               so we've established word
that acribe to tickling a thesaurus
ambiguity...
    but sure as **** there are some,
rigid, orthodox, words:
that can be used, un-acriptive
of a challenging authority
wishing upon it a counter-usage...

  i was born a pollack,
i acquired english:
            god forbid i don't die german!
hence all this crypto-nationalism
*******...
      i am a crypto-nationalist,
given that a nation is a cryptic,
quasi-noun suffragette...

             ich, werden sterben ˈjərmən!
point being: i'm hardly welcome...
        but death is hardly
a grieving mother,
               rather, a welcoming *****.

i've "said" enough,
  question is...
                                 have i drunk enough?
Mateuš Conrad May 2022
i used to buy cans of pepsi cola in order to retain the most
fizz... i've cut back on the cans:
instead buying bottles of the "max" stuff...
because: whiskey: how else?
i'm not a puritanical drinker of ms. amber...
mr. whiskers...

                      but the problem with the bottled stuff...
once opened: it goes stale the next day:
because i never mix it "correctly"...
   but what i found?
                          sunlight... leave an already
opened bottle of pepsi cola in the sun...
and... lucky me: England: it's sunny! wow!
leave it (obvious the cap is ******* on,
but it has already been opened ergo ergo)

leave it in the sun... boom! the gas is back...
it's fizzy again: it's actually more fizzy than upon first
opening it...
so... what's the relationship with carbon dioxide
and sunlight?
carbonated water and sunlight?
does sunshine agitate the carbon in the water
making... oh... right... it must imply...
it has a lower boiling point than water itself...
i mean: you couldn't exactly boil a cup of tea
using sunlight...

but you could... make more fizz out of a going
stale carbonated water by exposing it to sunlight!
yep... just checked it...
it is lower... not that much lower...
but we're talking... sunlight and a plastic bottle:
plastic easily overheats...
and in terms of boiling: there's a lid...
so... no wonder... and we're talking:
sitting on a roof... sunrise? circa 5am...
all the way through to about 1pm...
  
    enough time... the tides will eat away the coastlines...

- yesterday's weigh-in... 101.6kg...
today's weigh in? ha ha...   98.5kg...
3.1kg loss in a single day...
    who even bothers with dieting?
what's the point?
   maybe i just figured it out... just about...
whatever dieting gurus tell you:
if you don't torture yourself physically through
acute exercise... nothing's going to work...
better be the rabbit than the turtle...

for far is it from where i live to Tate Britain,
roughly? 20miles... to get there... and back...
40+miles...
              plus the stress of traffic... which is always
good... stress is a great calorie burner...
plus testosterone... plus adrenaline generation...
it's not like a safe environment in a gym
pumping... pumping! weights...
or running the hamster wheel of the treadmill...
plus the wind obstructing you...
  mind you: maybe drinking that half a litre
of whiskey prior also helps...
perhaps ingesting alcohol: whiskey... before setting
off on a mega exercise routine...
because the calories: as my "dearest" gwand-m'ah used
to say from alcohol are empty calories...
by drinking half a litre of whiskey you're not eating
a fattening burger...

alcohol calories are not... protein calories...
they're not carbohydrate calories... they're not fat
calories... they're alcohol calories...

and on your bicycle... am i just fuelling up?!
i don't mean ingesting alcohol and doing weights...
i'm talking about ingesting alcohol and
punishing myself via the cardiovascular method...

personally i can't imagine myself becoming a father:
decreasing the amount of testosterone running
through my veins:
   i'm the "wrong" sort of gambler...
i measure my gambling ability on how well i can
maneaouvre... ****... too many! vowels!
man-oeuvre... manoeuvre... now i'll remember...
that's what the English speaking folk say about
my native tongue: you're ******* vowelled-up mate!

right: MAN and OEUVRE... like...
the total of someone's productivity: posthumously...
i'm more of a gambler like that:
will i squeeze in? will i get past?
either give me a horse and the Siberian steppes...
or give me a bicycle and London's roads...

oh wow... i'm actually thinking like a free man!
sure sure: i can care for people on "pretend":
little cameos here and there... and it's genuine...
but... to replicate myself: to have to "nurture" genes?
why does Jamie Redknapp (K surd!)
  look like the older brother of Frank Lampard Jr.?

i know the answer...
    because Harry Redknapp married a woman
that was the twin sister of Frank Lampard Sr. bride...

i'm sort of giggling now... but walking to the shop
for some early morning cider...
there's this great Danish film about a group
of guys who are constantly ingesting alcohol...
in acute amounts... no... not binge drinking going
out on the tiles sort of drinking:
irresponsible drinking is out of the question:
know your limits...
if you can't cycle to Tate Britain from 20 miles
away while having drank half a litre of whiskey:
don't do it...

DRUK... another round... funny that...
       druk means print in my native spreschen...
pisany druk: written print...

i look at old men as no wiser than the wisest...
it's a bit like looking at babies:
either men or women...
i want death before i reach this unnatural
old age... this retrospective cinema...
it's almost like seeing menopause:
this slack in testosterone curbing...
it's like looking at able albeit decrepit bodies
lost in a memory of former agility...

heimat! heimat!
all of the German war songs are worth singing!
heil! heil! wenig scheisse...
that's what my Russian girlfriend used to call me:
kakashka... little ****...

do i write from the perspective of regret
or from the perspective of memory:
i don't know...
what would you do... having travelled to Russia...
upon first entry into her abode:
getting a slap in the face...
i tried punching myself harder from time to time...
but that slap was waspish...
she thought i wasn't monogamous with her:
even though she kept her ex in her vicinity...

alle huren! alle huren!
   alle verdienen mein liebe!
ich kann nicht diktieren zensur von
solch(e) pracht!

   ich kann nicht! ich kann nicht!

maybe that's why i'm not bothered by nudes
in the art gallery...
       i abhor Lucian Freud...
                     i find his gaze repulsive...
it's what i'd call: cloggy...
beauty in the eye of the beholder blah blah...
there's that strict format of identifiable form
readily expressed:
which is mostly in the ****...

no wonder i like ******* in front of a mirror:
and that's mine...
und das ist mein!
                  mein allein!

        i suppose, therefore: i don't need to paint...
i can only skim a membrane of what could be
considered a painting... writing the membrane
of an art-work...

               Nietzsche showed the nail...
Heidegger provided the hammer...
   better an early death and eternity than all those
materialistic sensibilities of progress...
better the promises than simply prolonging
a fate worse than death:
ein los schlimmer als tod...

i want to die viral... with all the vitality that life
allows!
i don't want to die as a toothless wolf!
ich do nicht wollen zu sterben als ein zahnloswolf!
this is torture... old age apparent...
no wonder men have lost their libido!
if what's waiting for them:
no man want's to live the sort of life
that grieves him with old age!

it's unnatural!
             it's great for clones, cupids and other
quasi- makeshifts of creature...
it's not so great for men...
old age of men and the lost testosterone...
is a bit like the menopause for women...
but it's not spoken of...
   Western gynocentric antics...
                               i like the Eastern traditions...
man comes to the fore... woman come after...

i'm already in a dodo mindset...
i truly don't mind...
    the middle-ground has already been salvaged...
humanity will not perish...
genius is always born once in a while...
not that i am:
irgendetwas du möchte denken...

heimat! tanz! heimat! tanz!
   die fluss von menschen...
        die fluss von alles dinge...

               das ist alles.
Emma Oct 2021
An manchen Tagen ist die Luft zu schwer zum Atmen,
wie Steine liegt sie in der Lunge und zieht und zerrt mich zu Boden.
Besiegt muss ich warten. Harren bis der Angriff vorbei geht.
Mich nicht rühren, nicht zeigen wie furchtbar es in mir aussieht.

An manchen Tagen wollen die Tränen fließen,
wegspülen, was in mir ist.
Doch die kranke Stille lähmt sie.
Hält sie fest an meinen Lidern,
wo sie ungesehn vergehn.

An manchen Tagen sterben ungesagte Worte.
Bleiben tot an meinen Lippen.
Ungehört muss ich sie schlucken.
Und in meiner selbst vergraben.
Wo ist das Ohr, das sie zu hörn vermag?

An manchen Tag ringt mich Erschöpfung nieder.
Zeit rinnt unerreichbar weit - und bleibt doch eine Ewigkeit.
Wenn Müdigkeit mich bleiern macht, mir Regung nimmt,
dann kommt die Nacht, die gierig mich verschlingt.
Wie ein Zuschauer wander ich unbeteiligt durch mein Leben.

An manchen Tagen verirre ich mich in meinen Gedanken.
Hinter dunklen Ecken lauert Finsternis,
ihre Wirrungen verschlingen mich,
bis ich verloren stehen bleibe.
Und mich ihrer Fremdheit ausliefern muss.
Marie Nov 2020
Wörter stürzen aus betrunkenen Mundwinkeln
bis die Rede
in seiner eigenen Wendung
zersplittert
und gedemütigt
nicht mal einen Heldentod sterben kann

Und unbeachtet im ausgegrauten Selbst verschwindet
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2018
ich
sterben
     vor das
schwarz
   kreuze auf
                             weiß!
geliebt jerusalem!
          heideheben
  zu kuss!
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2019
i die with a king
for the silence,
lacklustre
for the worth
of punctuation marks...

baron, peasant strip
of cul-de-sac gold...
you,
mutter...
           vater...
art-freundlich...
                mein
      zuletzt atem... amen...
         in die name
unser vater...

ich heben
            die leben
zu sein wohtne...
      ich leben
durch rätsel...

erschrecken mann
        (zu) zerstreuen;

sterben die
verbreitet-sächsisch,
                  ja?
m'ah ******* flag,
m'ah ******* ship...
cráneo y 'ueso...

        tu falso lapso
en-á...
               recaída...
  
yo 'ablar
  niente español,
y yo no 'acer
querer à...

   *******... eh...
what do you call it...
westerns, movies...
pinks...
               john,
******* wayne...
like...
some clint eastwood:
boor, revival...

little boy soldier
from the saxon partisans...
contra
the spaniards...
thank **** i'm to cite
a revival
from the avenue:
just don't mention
how the polacks
interacted
with the russians.

   neighbors?
always, at their worst.
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2019
1984...
funny year...

that's in the future, right,
the future where
i'm in no part to blame
for any active agency...

no... мы...
           no zamyatin...
modern day politics,
*******
        boney m and
ra- ra-
   rhapsody in b-putin
minor...

     mw'y...
вы - vw'y...
   Y, yes, that hollowed
out iota...
pasture of the sign
of the cross...
lost among
the W and the Ł...
            
but in the days when...
i am...
    born... innate...
with a distrust for politicians...
i am also
to entertain
an innate prejudice
against... journalists?!

please tell me...
at what moment
(if not already)
     i am to, not...
differentiate
the journalist from
the politician?

                at no point?
sorry, i'm a bit slow...
1984 happened
in 20- thereby or so
a year... with me being
two years shy of existence...

suits...
i see suits grieving
being allowed
their rhetorical
   wunderbar!
  sharpen than knife,
herr meißel...
              the ****** *****
epidemic of westen bərˈlin
(ja, ə no
        boar / bore leen)...

how much *******
           "hollowing out"
do you need,
to require an Y become an
I?
           i count to three...
you... cúnt to tow,
or two...
   as in:                  count...
ú is a: pool table
for the saying...
'arp as a cue,
but no queue in mind...
i.e.: ******* coont...
Maine... ****...
                       breed of cats...

complete with citations
of Orwell...
like...
      there is something
inherent in me,
whereby...
            i feel, most inclined...
to not wish to be here...
are you too feeling
some tickle
of the said sentiment?

- but i'm here,
and luck, is no charm,
as neither is...
giving citations borrowed
from Shakespeare...
nor will schizophrenic
paranoia play a part...
they're out to get me,
and i'm in no mood
to get anything,
apart from...
the thrill of the mob...
and a raw herring...
soaked in brine...
later dipped into some
sour cream and gherkin sauce...
eaten like...
that time when a *** ate
what he forgot was supposed
to be... a take on...
investigating the practice
of sushi... on the shoreline
of the Baltic sea...

and its... "people"...
       oh don't worry...
i can dehumanize myself,
just fine...
but such a curiosity cannot
simply go...
   sterile for so long...

   1984...
sorry... what year?
          its like:
people keep citing and citing
that one work of
effort,
to the point where:
stop citing it,
i'm living in...
what was supposed
to be the, "current" year...
        that wasn't supposed
to be: the year in tow...

        and that's not even
the year i was born into,
with the inflation
of a dead come to an end
soviet society pact
for the satellite states
with its: hyper-quasi-Zimbabwe
type of inflation
ergonomics...

      what the **** is this...
always look at the pauper
for any worth of a sentiment
for doubt?!
             juggernaut-kiss-***
*** beg-for-***...
   and then...
in a distance... an angelic choir...
less to assure you
a good-night's sleep
and more...
pseudo-amphetamine inducing
insomnia of...
left, shattered,
and riddled
(don't forget the riddled part)...
the sand baron of
theology stood his ground...
and chose...
his... corpus caedis...
    
now you expect a crescendo
of a juggling act...
suppose...
        i have any russian
in me...
   the ****-nick
of the solistice of me
throwing a dinner plate
in a row over domestic
functions of the atom, and family?

what then?
i pray to caesar:
vis, mors subita...
     only, (a) sudden death.

i cannot shed light
on the parlance
between the fake throng,
the partriarch
and his deadbed...
              as much...
as i'd like to shed light
on...
dying... in the hands
of Aisha (abi bakr)...

   i already known my
meine gedacht...
mein schatten...
meine freunde...
mein charon...
            ich sterben
mit die sohle
   trost,
          auf meine
sohle krank...
                              misch!    

bride, bed, willow...
and all the eerie
chimes...
of  the wind...
killing patience...
playing
an attempt at... flute!

— The End —