(On her canvas, brushes will cross;
he, the art of loving the loss)

Notice, nod, smile
make strange worth her while.

Stand, wink, wave
break poise,
misbehave.

Give first free of charge
and by last; indemnify.
Attain room without barge
-wend, strain, stratify.

Why do we feel so compelled
to stratify ourselves above the natural World?

What it is that justifies
our Cult of Humanity?

Do we seriously believe
that our gradient of experience
is so much wider and more rich
than are those of dogs, or cats,
or fish, or bats, or lice, or ants,
or spiders, or birds, or trees, or flowers?

Wherefrom do we think
the notions of faeries, nymphs, sprites, and our Gods arose,
if not for the Natural world
as well as the traits of our psychology
made anthropomorphic?

Who are we
to suppose such things
just because we are us:
be this not the same sort of exclusionary cultism
whence are born sexism and racism
and ethnocentrism?

Anthropocentrism?

Who are we to belittle
any one thing on this God-given plane of Reality?

Are we really that caught up in ourselves
that we forget whence we've come?

All is but Energy
All merely is.
We are a part of that,
as it is a part of us.

All
is a holistic system
not a stratified hierarchy of experience:
that concept is artificial.

Is it so hard for us to see?
Is it so difficult for us to be humble about this?
Is it such a blow to our such delicate psyches
that we cannot concede such universal harmony?

Or is it that it is beneficial for some
for the many to remain deaf and blind
to this wonderful, liberating truth?

I think we all know the answer,
we just forget to look for it
and if we find it,
we become too distracted to embody it.

I know we're better than that.
I know we know better.

Do you?

-
i segregate separate stratify
my poems with little lines
to keep them apart,
keep them from bleeding
into one another like
frames in a poorly inked comic strip.
-
it doesn't work.
-

.slipknot's (sic) "vs."
  stone sour's get inside...

don't know,
sunglasses in the night,
beginning with a crescendo...

i'm pweetty sure that these
pro-life hags...
ever be presumed schizoid,
spending time with
fellow psychopaths
at some outskirt
London allotment...

     with a bunch of:
pick up, take elswhere,
    put down,
watch "it" dribble...
then expose itself
showing off a ******* *****...
and then,
a dave rubin,
finds it weird,
making an interview
with a pro-life advocate...
    well at least the mad
are not brain dead...
compared to these:
'here, by the grace of god',
wonders of the world.

sure thing, chief.

this, this...
pro-life advocate,
is going to suddenly turn around,
and play the priestly role,
of not being
the cabbage-kid caretaker?
really?
you know...
   when i was digging out
these potatoes,
i've seen more humanity,
when sheep were being
herded,
i've seen more humanity
when, even in their "claustrophobic"
setting laid eggs...
what i came across what:
wish you were in aushwitz
readied **** nurses...
about to shoot in
the back of the head
with these vegetable worth
of humanity...
    
        **** me, if they asked:
i would have brought an axe...
and this, pro-life chick,
so deluded from her experience
of the cabbage-patch kids,
well, sure as **** she won't be taking
care of these deviances,
will she?
                         it's somehow "life"
once the ***** passes the *******
"criteria",
    prior to? dead-tadpole...
something that would
resemble frog mating...

  people would rather prefer
petting three-legged dogs,
than any physical / mental
abnormality of humans...
   they would rather...
feel less of the "love"...
  and...
             squint at the spring blush
of a tomatoe...
         because people,
tell trimmed,
perfect nails...
expect others, to be "human"
when caring for the outliers,
like my grandmother said,
talking to an outlier
neighbour...
     so how do you feel...
with a heavily disabled child,
needing to express
his only ****** capacity,
you putting on the ****,
him jerking off...

while your healthy one
is roaming the rooftops,
readying himself to jump?!
i'm suicidal...
              claustro-**** or what?
like yahweh wasn't the purge,
the god of the purge,
against moloch?
    or beelzebub
                       or belial?

honestly, people who are pro-life,
don't even stratify in my screetch
at watching pro-life to its fullest
extent...

             cabbage-patch kids are far
from even hearing the arugment,
you have remnants of auschwitz nurses
herding them,
  i've see more tenderness
associated with herding sheep,
than what these people endure,
   and i call them "people"....
sure, the shape is there,
until the tongue and freelance
genitals come out with
a speech best associated with
onomatopoeia...

        it's always "pro-life"...
once you've made your argument,
and then did the Pontius Pilate
token of reply...
                    always the responsibility
of the argument,
but never, the responsibility
of the care...
              nice...

i've seen them, pretending to eat,
drool, strapped to what
euthanasia would have done
much simpler, ethically...
            you'd guess a *******
tapeworm would have more
existential focus to continue...

because... it's... not... supposed...
to... be... fun... or... easy...
              mind you, they're not kids...
30+ and almost brain-dead,
i've honestly seen humans
herd sheep with more humanity
than these, "people"...

           that's the "glorifying" aspect
of humanity,
it abhors abnormality,
i've been taught the lesson...
****** tatoos
over chernobyll birth marks
and subsequent scars...
   mediocre: rules!

              pro-life my *******
just became fused with a chilli-esque
rash...
        i wonder how it would fare,
if i just kept shooting blanks...
and women were shooting
out fertility,
   waiting for my shots of void...
would i "feel" less like
just doing a pol *** genocide
into a tissue...
more like: ******... better own that...

next thing you know,
you'll be placing your mortage
on a single roulette spin...

        i'm not laughing...
i know how the dichotomy of man
contra the inverted ontology
of nature prescribes relief
when subjected to the outliers...
it kills them off...

but these, petted,
prettied...
nail varnish....
   primmed hair...
       you think these arguments,
from these kind of people,
will solve the "problem"
of the cabbage-patch kids?
   ask me a different question...
like i said,
i've seen dogs treated with more
dignity to these half-brain-dead
outliers...
              and look how close
i'm standing on the ledge...

               hello england...
             hello the fwee wowld.

As I inhale,
I catch your breath
next to mine in the hallway,

your hands
are covered in blue veins
and you tell me
about the amygdala
and the chemicals
in our brains.

I tell you how
there are subtleties
in the dark coronaries,
there is a linger
that assembles in the blood
before it takes in the breath,
there are secrets to the cells
and the capillaries.

Your hands are shaking
a small bit, pale and blue,
in the middle of the hallway.
I grab them,
you close your eyes,
I know you wish you were elsewhere,

but you must remember
this life is a caricature
of biology;
we are all elsewhere -

I wish I could tell you,
that all I want to do is stratify you,
lay you out across millennia,
until you are everywhere
in every rock
every mineral.

Tell you to remember,
our birth is before the first day;

we are
                        the light
   before
    the dawn breaks -

we are circulated
me and you,
like breath,
like the morning star,
effortlessly,
orbiting -

do you think we would fall off
if the earth stopped spinning?

“I do wonder
if there would still be oxygen”

Tell me if I intensify or ratify or eclectically
de-sastisfy or ******* lie or
**** me and stratify artistically mortify
I wanna cry and bend this whole **** thing
over to arithmetically magnify
geometrically articulate and situate
the intensity of the diametrical
opposites
******* the whole ****** thing
claim the reasoning as my own
when it came from
my muse.
Say with me...
Is this real?
can I prove one theory
one thing I know
is I am
deaf and dumb.
Just seemingly
revolving waiting
numb.

The clouds striate      
and stratify
into the gray.
In the divide
a candle bloom
consumes the night
as shadows stray,
and shadows stray,
to coalesce
and incarnate.
As shadows stray,
and shadows stray,
like travelers
of the arcane.

And thunder rolls
down a stale sky
into the fray
of a twilight.
A candle bloom
consumes the night
as shadows stray,
and shadows stray,
to coalesce
and incarnate.
As shadows stray,
and shadows stray,
like travelers
of the arcane.

Love only what you want for,
spiritually poor
and unsatisfied.

Kids keep keeping score,
who hurts more,
new way to stratify.

Pondering life's meaning
but there is little more
forget how to be alive.

They lied

There is absolutely nothing funny about this feeling.

From provenance
To Providence  
To prominence
I rise
Among students
And teachers
And principled minds
But in mines
I’m the guy
On the line
Getting by
All the while
Unearthing
What we
Stratify