at a hospitalier's request...
i heard...
'ask them to drink a little...
or at least gradually...
alone... absolutely alone...
come night and at least
an hour before setting of
for the land of nod...
before their grand imitation
of death with sleep...
ask them to drink a little...
anything except beer...
wine or ms. amber...
ask them...
to drink alone...
and tell them: would you
please be inclined
to listen to templar chants?
le chant des templiers -
organum marcel peres - harmonia mundi:
salve regina...
da pacem domine...
nunc dimittis...
ask them to drink a little...
to drink alone... and listen
to these chants of the templars...'
i have been here before: dear hospitalier...
i have... i have seen
diamonds be fathomed
in waterfalls -
i have been here: gnashing my teeth
with an agony from the aesthetic!
i was here: tortured by beauty,
once...
'i've been here, prior! teuton!
i've seen what aesthetic blows
can be dealt on the hearts of man!
i've seen men weep from
the agony of beauty!'
ask them: implored the hospitalier
to listen to the chant of
the templars...
ask them to sit aside: alone...
ease their hearts with a little bit
of liquid-fire...
baptise them thus...
ask them to take this sacrament...
let these new men
be baptised by wedding themselves
to the tears they will about to
shed...
baptise them with all the ingenious
beauty of song!
tempt them into this agony
of beauty...
no Bach no Beethoven...
forget all the polyphonic composition
complexity of classical music:
to the bellowing guts
of angus dei...
i don't want intelligent music:
i want music that replicates
the herded animal: for the chant of the choir!
excuse me worship for
the fox calls of the night:
in england one cannot find
wolves - only dogs barking...
at a hospitalier's request:
'weren't the templar the more vicious
adamants of faith -
a cross became a sword...
yet after a slaughter: they would repent
with song...
to feed a contradiction that
came with a completeness of
heart...'
te deum patern ingeniturn -
i can't stall the teutons from singing!
the teutons must sing!
these black cross cladding
over a whitened reservoir of following
yet uncovered details...
ease their hearts: strain them against
such ferocity of beauty...
let me find a grain of universal
truth in all of this...
and share it among all the reigning
particulars...
detail some excursion
into mathematical schematics
of "explanation":
the universal fraction / percentage
the universal is... only...
0.00000001%...
the particular is 99.0000009...
to solve the socratic mystery
of consolidating universals
with particulars:
concerning myself with genes:
by the time i might have
joyed myself with grandchildren:
i would have been diluted to...
a quarter...
please ask them to
reflect on a: my self...
rather than be so agitated and prompt
boundless with
a compounded of nervy-
reflexive myself...
give them an hour
to concern themselves with conjunctions...
give them the scissors of
atheism: notably in english
the only dimension this explanation
works in...
a- (indefinite)
and -the- (definite) -
an -ism is an -ism is an -ism...
is perhaps a variation of shorthand
explanations: as any decency of
an -ology...
indefinitely but most assured: definitely
this lingering phantom
of a tongue that had to remain
in talk and was never allowed
to sing...
the hospitalier implored once
more:
'the same can be achieved
with muhammad's adhan...
but what if muhammad
himself was... tone deaf?
it does little to the reality
of the french caricatures:
yet another beheading...
some elsewhere like france
has become...
this masochistic statue of glass...
this ice forge that salt is thrown at!
please let them listen to the templar
chants... ask the men first...
let the women disguise themselves
into the experience...
but tell them...
there is only your heart
upon entry... and there's only
your heart upon leaving!'
and i have been accused of
sociopathy and psychopathy...
lies have dwarf-esque legs to sprint on...
2007: my descent...
it has been oh so... coincidental...
i have a testimony of Abel...
the earth doesn't cry out for me:
i'm still laughing upon it...
it's so impossibly just to have
not disturbed a finger of evil
that always points with accusation
at its own tongue...
i'm a big boy now: i can allow
myself metaphors of evil
i can allow myself metaphors of good...
i want these templar chants
to be aesthetic torture chambers...
i want men to be baptised by
the tears they shed...
expecting results...
oh of course... if they don't cry
having drunk enough...
then...
clearly: the latin men wouldn't
require their letters to have names...
an A would never become an alpha -
a connotation of association with
male...
king alpha prince beta - B -
the latin men didn't conjure names
for their letters... at best... syllable
constructs for their consonants...
or vowel-catching sighs and laughter
reliefs for the vowels...
Bee would never be most certainly
beta...
Oh would not become
omicron...
that the greeks gave names
to their letters:
why is it that they are the most
scientifically "biased" people of this world...
Es: or sigma - a sum of:
which is why they sing such
godawful songs!
the castrato assembly of
the nuanced teutons!
would i be lucky to be stolen from
this future in a choir...
and forced into... deeds...
that can be agglomerated
when celebrating the defeat
of the mongols at the hands
of the mamluks...
or who the turkish janissaries were...
immediately slaves...
immediately converts:
easily pawned zealots!
- what a kind expression:
i clutter... my smile... with teeth...
then again...
if i am supposedly smiling:
would i require the use of teeth...
if i'm therefore employing the use
of teeth:
i'm not exactly smiling:
i'm pouting with an off-putting
grimace...
and by showing my teeth...
i am "unconsciously"
attempting to sharpen them
with instigating both fear
or paranoia...
i have wed myself to the tears...
i have left nothing to hsve
to make it conumate upon stressing
this aesthetic torture...
augure of either sigh or the forlorn...
with my tears i wed myself
to the lakes and the rivers...
beside spite:
from an authenticity basis:
i was made lacklustre i was made
hindered...
if i were merely trampled on:
tampered with:
that i feel more than i think
i might have been egregiously taken
advantage of...
it's oh so...
synchronised...
as if an Abel: but this new-Abel
would not die from a wounding
of a stabbing sensation:
if would require covert
murderous mechanisms...
an ingenuity of chemical employment...
let the world rot to appease the bloodthirst
of the demiurge...
i will only serve to laugh...
as laugh i did:
so many years prior...
come! share my universal attention
to detail!
let the teuton sing!
let this borrowed Cassidy sing his
shoes and suede off!
how they would
untie the feet of bogus bodies
of chinese pump-out
machines...
toe-tied this naked night
from afar....
this naked stark horror...
cut them at every available limbs!
gauge their eyes out!
cut their tongues out!
leave them womb-esque
most pristine!
that's all that was ever required
of them!
they dare not prance around:
peacocking...
when the subtle man
is being circumcised...
and they can... toy with
a lottery of... flesh; edible...
how i impersonate...
this quest fetish for...
i'll celebrate eating
a chicken...
by succking out the marrow
in the bone...
i will... celebrate the crunch
of cartilage...
i will feast on the tender-bits
of liver and heart...
i will swear allegiance
to a handful of poultry hearts to
best remind myself:
what lifting a volume of
chickens would have to feel like:
heaving them...
guess i just spoiled a "poem":
there i was also looking for... a rhyme...
to also look for geometric antics...
yes...
it has come to my attention
to be clumsy enough...
i too would have liked
to have spent the better part
of my yet to be: envisioned
life in buenos cyres...
if i were more than the name
prescribed unto me:
i were more darius than matteo...
if i were a xerxes and
athena was my bride...
i like questioning being
given a name:
with such hightened expectation...
conrad of masovia...
it's like it was necessarily to be...
humming a belief in:
china ≠ tibet ≠ mongolia
kind augur: in china they give noun status
to their syllables...
since they don't own concept for
either vowel or consonant...
"concept": what a grand branding
need...
the beijing squints from lemon
sherbert are... shy for giving:
no... there's is no vowel:
there's the consonant "proper":
ka cha-se and che-st...
ke chew
ku chi
ki cho
ko... and there's
herr: fat-bang-****
when black rice powder made peoples
explode...
such generic life
and holding on...
the mediocre ambitions that
would never pierce the ambition claimants...
as having a heughtening
impetus of / for elevated strategy...
in beijing:
it's so necessary to have as many people
without heaving ambition...
as is necessary to have
a Lenchenstein and have so few...
arrogantly prized antagonists...
there have to be status quo converts
and bravado
architects of same...
i'm wondering: how will "they" ever...
multiply us to their assured
presence of number...
and weaken us intellectually
to fraction out a count of the celebrated
counter count of 1..
we must be so impossibly to conquer...
when herded: herded...
yet when not...
so biased against...
the already persisting antagonism
of a chinese "concept" of "individualism"
to borrow from...
well... basically... ****-all to do with!
