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judy smith Nov 2015
Remini also reveals in the book that Nicole Kidman’s adopted children Bella and Connor only spoke to their Australian mother when forced to.

The New York Daily Newsobtained a copy of Remini’s exposé, Troublemaker: Surviving Hollywood and Scientology. In the book, Remini claims that Suri, who was then seven months old, could be heard crying throughout the pre-wedding dinner.

Remini writes she went to see what was going on, only to find Cruise’s sister and an assistant staring at the child as she screamed on the floor.

Remini says the women were staring at the child as if she was [Scientology founder] “L. Ron Hubbard incarnate”.

Remini also writes about Bella and Connor Cruise’s strained relationship with Nicole Kidman. Sharing a ride to the airport with the then-teenagers after Cruise and Holmes’ wedding, Remini asked the two if they’d seen Kidman.

“Not if I have a choice,” said Bella, according to the book. “Our mom is a f*ing SP.”

(Within Scientology, SP is reportedly a Suppressed Person and designated enemy.)

Remini says that Cruise and Holmes’ lavish nuptials at Odescalchi Castle in Italy was the beginning of the end of her involvement in Scientology. Prior to the 2006 ceremony, Remini — whose mother and stepfather were Scientologists — spent 30 years in the controversial religion and donated US$2.5 million ($3.5 million).

But Cruise and Holmes’ wedding reportedly pushed the actor over the edge.

In the book, Remini recounts how she finally convinced the women in the bathroom to pick up Suri and give her a bottle of warm milk.

Remini reckons her actions infuriated Cruise, and she was then treated like an outcast for speaking up. Tensions reportedly flared as church workers tried to separate Remini from close friend, Jennifer Lopez. Lopez was the daughter of a Scientologist, and the church hoped to use the Cruise wedding to recruit her to the cause. According to the book, Cruise reportedly even pressured Remini to invite longtime friend Lopez and husband Marc Anthony.

When Remini failed to co-operate, she writes that she was very publicly snubbed in the reception line by the famous couple as punishment.

The actor also describes in the book how Cruise was left at the altar for 20 minutes, waiting for Homes to show up.

As the 150 guests grew increasingly uncomfortable, Lopez whispered to Remini, “Do you think Katie is coming?”

Remini recalled the reception as being like a high school dance filled with amorous teenagers.

She writes that Norman Starkey, the Scientologist who performed the wedding ceremony, was “******* Brooke Shields on the dance floor”.

Remini was also outraged to see Scientology’s married Chairman David Miscavige treating his assistant as if they were on a date.

And she reported the high-level Scientologists attached to Cruise and Holmes, Tommy Davis and Jessica Feshbach, “were all over each other” at the festivities.

The two later divorced their spouses and married.

Remini also revealed that Cruise had seemingly replaced Hubbard as the church’s new figurehead. “Tom Cruise seems to be running our church,” she said.

After the event, Remini was summoned to appear at Scientology headquarters in Clearwater, Florida, to explain her wedding behaviour, with the most damning accusation made by Holmes herself.

In a report so punctuated with exclamation marks that it looked liked it was “written by a seventh grader,” Holmes contended that Remini’s wedding behaviour “disturbed me greatly. [She] made the party all about herself.”

Holmes recently apologised to Remini in a statement saying: “I regret having upset Leah in the past and wish her only the best in the future.”

After months of interrogation and a US$300,000 ($420,000) bill for the “auditing,” Remini was forced to launch an apology campaign.

She sent expensive gifts to all the important guests, including director JJ Abrams, who were reportedly upset by her attitude.

Remini also apologised to Kevin Huvane, Cruise’s powerful agent who also represents the likes of Julia Roberts, Meryl Streep and Jennifer Aniston.

She called to personally apologise after hearing that he was telling others how “disgusting” her behaviour was.

Remini considered leaving Scientology at the time, but didn’t as it would have meant cutting ties with her mother, stepfather and the many friends central to her life since joining the church as a teenager. Ultimately, Remini’s family would also leave the church alongside her.

After Holmes left Cruise in 2012, Remini aggressively ended her relationship with Scientology a year later by filing a missing persons report on Scientology boss David Miscavige’s wife.

In Going Clear, Lawrence Wright’s damning HBO documentary on Scientology, he dates Shelley Miscavige’s disappearance from public view to 2006.

Los Angeles police closed the case with a statement that Remini’s report was “unfounded”.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses
~
October 2024
HP Poet: Ben Noah Suresh
Age: 65
Country: India


Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, Ben. Please tell us about your background?

Ben Noah Suresh: "I was christened Benjamin Noah Suresh by my parents but modified my name to Suri Ben Noah when I first started writing poetry. I later twisted it around and my pen name is Ben Noah Suri while I am Suresh to all my friends. My HP handle was Suri Ben Noah but then evolved to Ben Noah Suri. I now prefer to be called Ben Noah Suresh.

I am 65 years young. Still feel like I’m a teenager and wonder where the hell all these years have flown. I was born and grew up in the city of Madras which is now called Chennai and is the capital of the State of Tamuzh Nadu in South India.

I am just a simple wordsmith and my experiences have made me what I am today. I am an only child of working parents who are no more and my loneliness led to an overactive imagination. I am more of an introvert in real life and never had any close friends. School was a nightmare for I hated education. I still believe education is a waste of time though it ensures employability. I dropped out of school and college several times before I was finally persuaded to complete my Education by my Godfather. I possess a Bachelor’s degree in Political Science and a Masters in Public Administration.

I got into the habit of smoking when I was eleven years old and graduated to soft and hard drugs by the time I was sixteen. I used to get high on anything I could lay my hands on. I was finally able to wean myself away from drugs through Divine intervention when I turned 29. I later stuck to tobacco and alcohol until my 55th year when I quit that as well. I still smoke an occasional joint during school or college reunions but otherwise stay clean and sober all the while.

I have done many things during my professional career spanning nearly 40 years. I started out as a bottle washer at a soda factory at the age of 16 before the process was automated. I became a Tutor for school and college drop outs at the age of 19. After graduation I served as a Development worker - involved with various Community Development projects including but not limited to Non Formal Training in various Trades for school and college drop outs, Women's Empowerment, Micro Finance, Low Cost Housing as well as Media & Communication Development. I later became a PR & Event Manager; a General Manager of Alumni Relations; a Content Creator; a Newsletter Editor & Publisher as well as many other things with the common thread of communication driving all these activities. I have travelled to several Asian countries and a couple of European cities as well. Currently, I selectively undertake Ghost Writing projects.

I am happily married for 34 years to my wife Lydia who recently retired as a School Teacher and we have 3 kids; two Daughters and the youngest being a Son. The eldest daughter Tang is married and runs her own media agency and hopes to make movies in the future. The second daughter Dove freelances as a content writer for several agencies. She has inherited an interest and flair for writing poetry but is rather shy and does not post them anywhere. My son Steve who is the youngest is an IT professional. He also writes stories as a hobby.

I found the hustle and bustle of urban life rather oppressing with the heat and the rude crowds making life tiresome. Therefore after retirement I moved to a small hill town named Kumily on the Kerala – Tamuzh Nadu border and now spend a peaceful life there. I plan to travel around across the world now that I have the time to do so."



Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Ben Noah Suresh: "I have been writing since the age of twelve when I wrote my first poem for my School Magazine. I write both prose and poetry. I used to write crazy limericks during my college days to attract the girls and post them on the Graffiti Board of the College cafeteria. I have written a couple of collections of short stories though I don’t know if they are still available on Amazon. I stayed away from writing from the age of 24 until my 45th year due to my professional commitments when I was then motivated by a friend to write again. I am currently writing a sort of a biographic novel and hope to finish it sometime in 2025.

I have been on and off Hello Poetry from 2009."



Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Ben Noah Suresh: "I am inspired to write by almost anything and everything. Simple things and events make me ponder and I immediately scribble my thoughts down in verse. The process of writing still remains a mystery to me. It’s like a tap is turned on and the words just flow. It’s like an on off switch and I just write without even understanding what I am writing. Most of my poems happen within a span of 5 to 10 minutes. I just record the flow of the words spilling out and don’t even bother to edit them.

I’m a big Heavy Metal Fan though I love all kinds of music and most of my poems have been birthed while listening to some form of music or the other."



Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Ben Noah Suresh: "For me Poetry is the breath of life. Without Poetry, I would suffocate and die. Poetry has aided me in battling loneliness, depression, drug addiction and almost all trials of life. I keep constantly writing though I don’t post all of them on Hello Poetry.

Poetry is all about creation. Each poem is the author’s baby. I love all my babies (I have over 5000 of them) and also love reading all the babies produced by my fellow Poets. I believe that by reading a poem I am giving strength and longevity to the poet’s baby."



Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Ben Noah Suresh: "To be frank, I have no favourites. I believe it is not right to discriminate. Each poet has a distinct style and no two styles are the same nor are they any better than the other. Each poem is a baby that must be nurtured and read. Even the poems that appear bad may have their own reasons for being created and it is our blinkered perception which makes them appear to be bad. So I try to shed my blinkers and try to decipher what went on in the mind of the poet when writing such verse.

I started reading poems in nursery school. Started with rhymes and limericks. In fact, one of my favourites still remains,

“Hey ******, ******
The cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon
The little dog laughed to see such fun
And the dish went away with the spoon!” Lol…

The fascination for the imagery which this evoked as a child still remains. Later in School Textbooks I read Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Keats, Shelly, Tennyson and the like. The first poem I taught as a Tutor was “Daffodils” by William Wordsworth and this has a special place in my heart. A friend handed me a chapbook of Kerouac’s work when I was in the eighth grade and I was fascinated by his style which I could never emulate. This led me to read more of the beat poets. I have also taught Chaucer and Milton to college students. Among Indian poets, I used to read Nissim Ezekiel whom I admired as a young boy.

HP was the gateway to read so many contemporary poets. It has opened up an entire new world for me to dive into. I spend most of my time when I am not writing my own stuff by reading the work of as many poets as I can lay my hands on in the site."



Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Ben Noah Suresh: "I am basically interested in exploring human relationships & their connection with the Divine. I believe in God but do not believe in religion. However, I am a student of all religious scriptures and texts for I find that the common thread running through them all is love and faith.

I am also into what is called the alternative sciences or ridiculed as pseudo sciences. My interests also include learning Graphology (signature analysis and character reading from the study of handwriting), Physiognomy (character reading from the study of ****** structures, body shapes and body language), Palmistry (character reading from the study of the lines on the palms), meditation as well as philosophy and understanding Truth. I am also a student of Alternative Medicine and study use of herbs and plants for healing.

I believe Graphology & Physiognomy can be put to good use by HR personnel to find the right fit for the job and also ascertain character traits like honesty and maintaining confidentiality necessary for sensitive jobs.

I am also very concerned about corruption in all spheres of life as well as the gradual pollution & resultant destruction of the world and nature. This concern is at times reflected in my work."



Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much for giving us this opportunity to get to know the man behind the poet, Ben! We are honored to include you in this ongoing series!”

Ben Noah Suresh: "Thank you for the opportunity Carlo..."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Ben a little bit better. I most certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #21 in November!

~
Ben Noah Suresh: As mentioned earlier, I have no favourite poems of mine. All of my poems are my children and I hate it when parents play favourites amongst their children. I only share 50 percent of my work with the outside world and write mainly for my own pleasure.

https://www.facebook.com/BenNoahSuri/
SBN.
Why do us poets
always let these jerks
who do not even
have an atom
of creativity
decide the value
and level
of our creativity?

ES.

Given that us
but meek poetic folk
have a humbleness
to our line of yolk
we permit these ignorant jerks
a liberal latitude
to openly express
their aimless platitudes

SBN.

Why do us poets
fall for the trends
and applause
it occasionally brings
knowing full well
it is all merely ephemeral
and what is permanent
is our depression so dismal?

ES.

We are cajoled
by the transient ovation
which resounds with much
brevity in its adulation
thence follows our
despondency of wretchedness
that descends into
a despairing grimness

SBN.

When will us poets
ever decide
that we do not care two hoots
for cheap popularity
and that our creations
are too valuable really
for some **** to **** on them
and make and mostly break them?

ES.

Oh for us true poets
to be admired with a fervent zeal
by those jerks who've
not a scrap of poetic appeal
unto us they can
dollop their excrement pile
for we shall surpass them
with our flash penning style

SBN.

So let us take in our hands
our own poetic destiny
lets write on time's shifting sand
and ensure our poetic integrity
Manan sheel Nov 2019
I will do
these amazing
things, just for you...

I will go to the nearby garden
of my neighbour, and steal the juiciest
fruits, the tastes of which contain
the wondrous tales of the trees,
you will be so excited to listen to
the tale of the mother parrot, who tasted
every Guava, and took the bite only from
the sweetest part to share with her children.
This neighbour might come after me carrying
his stick, but any risk can be taken, for our fruity
moments of togetherness, when we will sit cuddled,
and munch on fruits making surpy-surpy sounds...

I will make an orchestra
consisting of singing bulbuls,
koyals, pigeons and sparrows,
and will not say no to any
bird or animal who wants to join in.
For example, crickets and monkeys,
can join in, and even happy wolves with
their hoo-hoos. We should not say no
to anyone, because although our orchestra
may not sound well, but everyone
should be happy, everyone has a heart
which must not be broken...

Then, there will also be a dancing DJ for
the Sur-Suri Dance of the snakes,
for the Halli Dance of the dogs,
(originated from Hallaq Kuttaq,
their great-grandfather),
also some monkeys will be allowed
to swing their hips, all for your entertainment,
Some hyenas may also do yip-yip-yip,
and cry and laugh, laugh and cry,
but you mustn't be afraid then,
for these hyenas are also pals...

for you see for this day everyone
is our friend, the whole universe
is our friend, love flows like a waterfall,
for we are in love...

© Manan sheel.
Butch Decatoria Jul 2020
Can you hear that sound
Like a tiny whining
You're a sad eyed puppy
Inside
It's a kind of yearning
When pining
away, wanting someone or something
So expensive beyond reach
The mind begins to fantasize what it's like,
Infantilize what's real life.
Enlisting unreasonable scenerios
Creative now with lies
And denials and exit strategies,
Scapegoats of close members of family, accusatory..
Blame all but yourself
Inflammatory story's demise
Because the lost moments spent
Pining away
Will die unknowing your real life self.
Inside that fog of fictitious false depictions
Who dat?
Starving yourself blind
See there on that podium
Your bad phat shines
Always in first place--gold medal favorite
Hooray it's not quite you or even true.
If pining were a sport
Having lost your minds
You'd all be winners.
Celebrity famous, go on
Crave being extra, so street savvy
"Hey Alexa, Google, Suri
Define obsession."
Pining turns dangerous
In absentia dysplased
Souls are stolen,
Human replicas.
Still carrying on pining
Away.
Killer lover blank.
Got brain? Bullets?
A shiv or Shank?
Sharp as a pine tree...

(Please,
Don't forget to give
Thanks.)
hfallahpour Mar 2016
The sky looks so bright
In human's sight
as sky lanterns fly
at Chahārshanbeh Suri's night
Happy chaharshanbe suri
Ken Pepiton Jun 2023
Dear, the cost, not the idle salutation once
taught as business standard, Dear Sir,
Dear Madam,
Dear dear dear me
I do believe I must
become the tutor, of me
make the mental, sensible
{to the author with fidential zeal}
think yourself through 75 years, find

the hidden first love, the first own thing, kept
held as common sense, whosoever does mean me.
So, ever is the course wherein human events fluxuate.
----
Faust, I failed to read  when assigned.
So today, I dipped
into my own past, and found
the sense used then, the need,
in truth
to know
the world is alive.
And, as seen
through eyes a million miles away, our
shared seeing causes all our sensory arrays
to look back, and think another pace time
uses to cross space, bursts of insight, gasp

poiesis - that which "pro-duces or leads (a thing) into being'" patient work, tedious as setting type
by candlelight, sighing in knowledge, the tree
of radical aspirations to bear dozens of kinds
of fruits, some useful to life, some useless, though
we try, some sets life has been lived through, to you,
- such scenes could have ended other ways.
epochs, men have no honest measure for such
spans of time used to attain the heights
from which we look across my valley
and feel one of us, making peace
with the fact that war does not function
in reasoning contests, as war is unreasoning,

the stubborn little devil who knows only what
he wishes he had control over the use of, this
spirit of adventure, tamed in wisdom gathered
and attributed to a mystical king, truly mythical,
we know that way of singing praises, exalting men
as God's special agents, as proud of the title,
as any agency of secrets sacred national trust,
in God,
as Solomon Chase assured Mr. Lincoln,
We put our faith in the people's belief
in the goodness of the use of the money printed
and minted to pay for war and exact a capital plan,

one nation, under God, as defined
by the finest minds,-- aieee wait, fun facts, scatter
braining how much space is empty in a mind
made up enough
to devise a new form
of governing, as if all forms existing feel wrong,
to us, we freemen, with all the slaves we need,

we have the leisure to reason with antiquity
and realize, if ever there were eight billions
of possible re-connection surgings to emerge

as mind unmade up, come to watch a battle,
war and all its uses come to reason missed
understood standards force laws obediance

the idea
of thought being possible fails,
materially
in any formal structure possible only
with our  
gravity as matter's law one,
beyond free willing quarkish mean ways

One love idea, Reggae guysay, rollon
in the course, the rut, fun's t'come

Long, long long longer that you wish to learn
winding lines wishwings…
Spat like one o'dem spittin' images

In a pig's eye, one can see what we don't know.

A looping, stitching stretching stream
threading current
of consciousness, packeting
in formational preceptoriallines
of irrational reasonings insisting persist
- gutwrenching hungers are not visual.
stirring emotions is not stirring use of knowns,
arts entaling science, we agree. No nasty words.

Ghuckyew. Rhea… diversify religiously
extol the gnosis of knowing the ropes
tying tight the ifity-ness used to hold work
done by the weaver and seamster on time,
folding edges to feel flat, smooth, inside
-- where whole cloth joins cut edges
at any selvedge process,
where curves cut
from fabric woven mind wise, tend
to come undone
on mechanical extentions
of fingers and toes,
and music imagined as humms
after the setup,
as the machines imagined and eventually made up
vibrate alluring frequent acknowledgement
we know you know, we may be realized already
- looking back and front and side ways, down up
---
Judging myself unfinished, yet
done doing all assignments, yet
getting an itch to prove approval, yet
hesitating,
for lack of knowing, and laziness, yet
learning
patience's
false witness argument,
if what we preach is not true,
how could we be so sure we know

Jesus ate, in his quickened flesh, fish.
Thus, we must be persuaded,
we shall also be
fishy. Da
gone gone dagonitgone antigone gone


theater of doubt, all in white, lime-lit
blinding all who care or dare to see
as blind, the faith of the gamblers's
thrall to money love and war.

Betterment through betting, all-in…

Have you any real
estate in which you do attest, its me?

I am my own real estate, executer
am I of all that I choose to do or not
in the confines of the course of human events,

as Hoyle's mind built canals on Mars,
so now we bet we can imagine being special,
as me, on a planet with, thee, you, Sie, du, see do.
- a viral propagation plan, thorny issuances
- sniff or sneeze, but do not die trying to make
- peace with all war makes worth lying for.

As we, our wedom began, as any wedom must,
the laws of philo and phobia in science used
by us, the we at point, piercing this wall,
your reading mind accepts the bet, if
this is art, for the sake of artifice
imagined in a current form, an AI
of informing fluid finding reason to bend,
or stretch, taut as drum, a net unseen
by any bird in resistance.

Posi and Nega, sisters in myths, new myths,
affect the same unknowing rash decisions,
when in truth, statistical-knowing one thing true,
there is at the most wee-tiny scale, an emptiness,
a mean unobstructed way for right to be, or not,

and now, we are, so we made that choice.

Today, this is that way which is the only way.
Today, this map of numerable lines, in nos, laws…
sense we are all in-im
balancing percepts on precepts,
undermining certainty,
exalting godishtical oracular maxims,

Knowledge is power,
secret knowledge, you may never know,
riddle reasoning used in cogito sums
given children to solve by asking
parents proper questions,
and writing show and tells. Wanna bet?

Al Suri, spokesman for FUD,
Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt,
appears to persuade martyrs,

the illiterate prophet's utterly canonical
promise of a certain libidinous eternity,
most appealing to frustrated post pubescent boys.

Stacks of squared away blocks,
stack up as extending the reach of order
coming down from the top, whither
the light that said the single word,
according to the Prophetic voice,
Read, he heard, and I cannot, he replied,
fold here, hear me, light seen, I cannot read,

what is here for me to read, a thought,
what are you saying, read, what is reading worth,
to one who has never learned the letting out
of silent song or scream, or plea for hope,
flowing as from scribal rod in perfection,


Two things only do the people earnestly desire,
bread and the circus (Juvenal)
"Duas tantum res anxius optat, Panem et circenses"

Here, sing. Reconciled, by doing singing heard,
sing out, child, hear yourself singing as if you know
how such a thing as singings may be made up,
to seem perfectly fine,

a mused mentality, thing of thought, with something
words alone lack, essentially.

Seven Types of Ambiguity

--- at this moment, my writing records show
today is June 3, my only ever wife's birthday,
that's right, and I know that it is morning,
by the angle of the sunlight though my window,
and the leafy shade dancing over sleeping moss.
Yet at that moment he looked back to reread
Presenting a new mind
Wednesday, May 3, 2023
11:02 PM
real-time 9:52 AM… we all find that, too odd.
And glibbly mention glitching…
Query Greek logos gnosis, active in-tell seek:
Brave AI Sums it up.
The Gnosis logo is an example
of a crypto industry logo
from Global, designed
for the crypto industry.
It is an official variant
of the logo
for the SVG file format standard.
Gnosticism is a Christian belief that claims
to possess a higher knowledge acquired
on a mystical higher plane of existence.
The ancient Greeks distinguished
between two types
of knowledge: gnosis and logos.
Gnosis was akin
to "how-to"
such as
how to build a boat or ride a horse,
while logos was more akin
to academic knowledge
such as knowledge
of mathematics or logic.
The distinction between the two types
of knowledge was important I-i
n the early history {noerror}
of Christianity,
with Gnostic Christians
emphasizing
gnosis
while the Catholic Church
emphasized logos{… not logical? Ai ask}
Gnostics see themselves as a privileged class
elevated above everybody else
by their higher, deeper knowledge of God.
- higher deeper, good one, HAL
--- Yes, AI am a cyborg, and a heretic, and king
of me and many wedoms formed
with books
by authors and finishers
of faith utility tales, told
to make believers,
stop thinking this impossible, and pose
the question,
are you me, dear reader, I trow not, I am mere
when you are so near as to read my very mind.

Virtue, undefined signals sent through time
to when you stop, and see selah, as instruction
in constructing a foundational faith, establish
mental
anchor. Persist in time, be yourself a while
while
nothing makes sense, yet.

{Akio Kashiwagi, the warrior}, money maddened
survivor or apprentice or pawn
of greed's gift
of mighty right feelings,
taker's joy, loser's grief, and none
of my own,
eeeeha!
emphasis on imagine the feeling

MAGA, as when the We persisting in aliegance,
feel our national ideal We take all the Mandan had,
and waste it seeking the use of money, on credit,
to make the possibility
of human error
manifesting
in Manichean lying prophecies,
as solemnly sworn on the true revelation,
from Moses, Lycurgus, Thoth or Hiawatha,
as it is written, so it must be done,
come the time all knowing is free
for the asking
- orthodox, right, upright, gravitationally
- balancing spirit and truth as effortlessly
- as a child on a rock in a pond in tree pose,
- sent to me,
- instantly, a moment later, with a note,
- from five years ago, when my chess mate
- was five years old and told his ma,
show Grandpa

Knowledge confidence power,
believing is the verb such forces use,
by faith, we breathe, when we stop and think,
we must believe a breath is available to not fear
when all our wind is loosed, not lost,
in time, we find far higher forces

legal, Empire law, winner's of the last global war,

America, my country, right or wrong, Philip Nolan,
a ghost from summers past,
A man without a country… yet kept alive,
- alone on an island with 5G and a solar charger
Idle words arrange from data entertaining venu,
deja venu, no? Same time, same mind…
- by laughing outloud ten times, or more each day.

Physical failure of happy thoughts,
whose fault is that, the splitzoid schitzoid gnoshit

Nieztsche, ezt ni-eztscheanic logos-ical guessering being
gamed. As time passes un lost, locally accounted for.

All in, ages ago, take the card/

In writing, guaranteed, you know waddamean…
let this rock be my witness, as happy Sisyphus says,
listen to the pundits pundate exceptional fore sight

"Only a catastrophe can save us"
Slavoj Žižek - Elevate Festival 2023

Vieleicht. Ich weis nichts, aber
möglicherweiseerweise….

Alles ist, so Alles sein kann.
- waking after a time slip, inevitable
- at my age and constituted pose on point.

Gather up the fallen down, save that for later.

Proving reconstructed causal agent reaction,
volatile will
to expand
to fill the emptiness,
perceived as where no catastrophe has yet to be
- a selah level settler subtle law, still waters
- obey, under the message read obey
- acting as if we know we may imagine new
- realities, with real life on earth our goal,
- the whole truth free to be sought,
- as givens, after the religious power knot
- was snipped, and done was done,
- the genius in Alexander, swallowed
- his childish faith in the lesson, for the rush
- of power
- and peace
- of mind, alienated from all anxious patterns
- cursing recurving conception, grasp a straw
- hope takes no anxious thought,
Thinking that
could halt the chain reaction. Up, imagine, ever
upping the competing reason, grave issues
write down the reel
of all the wars's reasons,
catalog gathered sensibilities, certain fixedness,
functionally aimed
at you, readying your last excuse.
- certainty is madness

We all fall down,
the actual truth, is upto our rolling over
to rise again.

Fret nought,
Life is rough draft, really,
nonsensical, save subjectively, rejecting seeing
catastrophe except while standing on one's own head.

a bit in the confusion
of comforting zones, meek

defending diffidence, while exercising confidence,
this is life, and more fun than any game, after accepting
the yes in the promise of all yeses. Seriously.

Diffidence is a defect:
it is an undue distrust of self,
with fear
of being censured
for failure, tending
to unfit one
for duty. [Century Dictionary]

Duty done, Private, First Class. Walk away.

The we bound by war born law, pays me,
to make peace where none was,
the re-leasing of easy living,
as ware of life as of self,
breathing breath's giver's gift, sharing air,
as fish share seas, feeling

a sense, now known named auto, self
poiesis gnosisnot sticky substance of faith
imagined in hope… reali
zation, global in scope, Higgsian
in the spirit of our times.

A Thousand Day Journey, a novel event
taken as granted, a gift in passing time,
I finished this counting
to account for all the lies I ever told me.

No new thing under the sun, Nieztsche
and Solomon's proverb collections attest,
recursings face reblessing, redefining finity

engineering gut bubble noise, gurgle's good,
we all get gurgle, giggle then can follow, if

we have recovered from memorized lines,
hero stories we tell with me on the horse,
riding to announce the thing which we fear
is come upon us and I alone escaped to tell,

but I had no hammer, and I had no bell,
but I had these jagged dancing lights,
where the floaters on my eyes are
constructing cataracts as I watch,
white wall squint old men wishing to see
- Biden squint eye does not intimidate,
- the new defense secretary in his wake
rhetoric of war in real time, records we trust
in God, prove no war ever can make peace,
with calling proof enough, reproof
of instruction is the way of life,
the ruliard is imaginably infinite, if the base idea

becomes "Knowledge comes in flavors and colors",
useful for any artist's mind enabled to recover
lost time in real time with novel assistance
from grand reservoirs of rain's retained
for power to attain the steady state,
all men, wait, suff it to become as
created equal
in worth
to the functional
fortuitous continuance
of serious sharp edged tools… swords with motors,
I saw Jerry Pournelle say.
In print.
In the spirit of this mindshare.
Rightly dividing the truth with mere words,
exercising godliness, effecting fervent will
to be as plain a plan as any ever,

accept the weight of knowing we walk upright,
we need crawl only for a while, as we learn,
like riding a bike,
some things we do with machine augmented minds,
minds exposed to speeds and constant story threading

the washer first, then the nut, then the crown nut
and the cotter key, to hold the prop,
seen ******* wind across my sky,
real life, I have the image,
and have not used Photoshop in years, this is the future.
I will doubtless exist in the ever as long as HP, perhaps as long as the Amazon cloud, and the map to my current state of perfectly fine, thanks, is due to the therapy caused by being read by such as you, and gleaning from your fields/
JoJo Nguyen Jul 2015
How many Dolls might be in the Valley?

Can you breath heavenly still
    so I can count top your holy hill?
It's just me come sightly so  
    working Charity back and fro
    my true badge of rite
Stitched across a tongue's bite
    a neighbor's door
    and between insults of a *****.
What vile eyes you say,
    but hey, don't fret, fear nor fray
    for whatever reason we surely
Can sew a new button for Suri's
    innocent nose and dust
    off the corruption to prove
    that I never wished to move.
Sito Fossy Biosa Jun 2020
pikiranku, tolong biarkan aku tidur.
Aku kurang istirahat.
Biarkan aku mati suri,
1-3 ABAD.
SUNGGUH AKU TIDAK MAU MEMIKIRKAN dia dan tuhan. Mereka sudah nikah siri, semua dipalsukan. 4.
oklasasadu is a diction that was deliberately created by Sito Fossy Biosa to express his frustration with God, disappointment, against God, and the concept of Godhead. ⊙a concrete poetry project⊙

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