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Ain Sep 2020
Phir teri mohabbat yaad aayi
Phir mera bilagna yaad aaya…
Phir teri naseehat yaad aayi
Tera raub wa jalwa yaad aaya…

Tune jitni jheli takleefein
Us dard ka ehsaas yaad aaya…
Tune zindagi bhar jo bhi kiya
Tera jud o karam sab yaad aaya. ....

Teri kaawishein teri koshishein?Tera jaan lagana yaad aaya. ...
Teri neikiyan tere khair amal..
Tera pyaar lutana yaad aaya...

Teri hayaat se seekhe hain jo jo...?Har ek sabaq woh yaad aaya. ...
Tera muskata har dam chehra...?Woh roshan nazara yaad aaya. ....

Ba vaqaar jo jhele gham tune...?Tera sabr se sehna yaad aaya….
Teri zinda dili teri saada dili...?Deen' mein thos aqeedah yaad aaya. ....

Beta, bhai, shohar, walid ** ya dost?Har ek farz nibhana yaad aaya. ....
“Ain" tum bhi amanat daari karo...?Usne hi seekhaya......yaad aaya..???

Phir mera tadapna yaad aaya...
Lamha rukhsat ka jo yaad aaya…
Ae Firoz tu aisi misaal bana.....?Jaane kitnon ko tu yaad aaya. ....
Lewis Bosworth Mar 2017
Cain slew Abel –
Thus began the parade of
Characters whose dynasties
We remember, who decorate
Our memories.

Abraham –
He gave us all the stars
In the sky, a greater lineage
Than the grains of sand
Slapped by seas.

Moses –
The babe in the bulrushes,
The prince turned traitor
Whose whiplashed back
Parted the Red Sea.

Tempus fugit –

Geo Washington, Thos
Jefferson, Alex Hamilton –
Madison, Adams, Franklin –
Minds who created, who
Dreamed, who begat.

How many names we find
In those first tumultuous
Years – warfare and love,
Duels and decadence,
Politics and party.

Scant years later, across
The pond – revolution is
Catching on – les français
Waged a ****** scene,
Ousting the régime.

What would become a
Baby democracy – birthed
More than one new flag
And song – yet lived to
Fight again and bleed.

History is ours to hear –
We respect the honorable,
Honor the drama, revere
The prudent and refight
The battles.

The District of Columbia
Paints a new canvas – she
Sings off key, her promises
Begging for whitewash, her
Patrons vice and folly.

What offspring will such as
These sire?  Are they fathers
To found a new nation – to
Garner worldwide pride, or
To slay the abled?

Let the wings of victory
Carry us back to the days
Of greatness – let us exceed
In probity and virtue – let
Freedom succeed again.


*©  Lewis Bosworth, 3-2017
smile now act like you're
happy
"You are happy"
That is a lie

Snile now act like it's not so bad
"It's not so bad"
That's so ******* hollow, dude.

I am overcome by nostalgia for experiences that occured years and decades before I was born.
I ******* hate grunge music.
I should have been a cis white male privilege zshielded ignorant beatnik
I should be tripping ***** on mescaline with Kerouac and  Cassady at this very moment.
I am overcome by many things.
By many feelings  .
Many bottles of whiskey.
Many capsules of vyvanse
Many failed put option bets
Many failed courtships
Many fleeting pursuits of soulmates and joy innate.

I choose to live.
I want to die.
Thos does jot not matter.
This may be resurrected respected from the archives one day
One day will likely statiaically probably not occur

What's going on Bunker Club?
I could make there for a rojnd or two before last call

I want to die i choose to live

I suppose there are no .ore beatniks by thos point

I wonder what Cassady Kerouac or the one dude whome I love but am too fu ked up to remember his name the ine that wrote Howl yeah that one all of th

I qonder would they qould have done given these modern soma tools
Given these fentanyl laced uppers
Given this rising tide of fascism and plasti. Refuse

I wonder...

No one cares
N o on e matter
S
Nothing is or has ever been anyth
Ing

I wonder an db I wish
And I must have lost track of the substance here

I wonder was Ginsberg, yeah that was his name, I wonder what Ginsberh would haave done hiven all that's going on.
Given all that I have amd most. Ertainly don't have.
I wonder what he would have to say about all of this then

I wonxer if he qould still Ginsberg that genius ****** HOWL as hard now as he did in rhe fu ki.g 50s.

I wonder if she ever loved me.
I wonder if I ever loved.
I woncer if any of this was genous
And I wonder if this was all jist the alcohol drug addled  futile selfindilgent ******* that it seems to neeee

Maybe it's art
Maybe it is

Maybe you should go outside
Maybe I sbould eat a meal

Maybe everyone shod just
At the very least
Ask themselves how the personally define the concept of happiness
Maybe theyvand we and i should think about tha

Maybe wr should be happy
Maybe i should be happy

Maybe this is art
Maybe this is nothing
Maybe this is sibstance abuse
Maybe when I doe they'll gind this a ccount 20 years latet and study it in text books
Maybeayyne you sho)uld go outside amd
Maybe
Maybaybe
You should ask yourself what the definition of happiness really
Is
Abby Lynn Nov 2014
Do you know
That I pulled my fingers out of yours
Because I was scared of *
how wonderful it made me feel?
Do you know
That I like you...
An awful lot...
But I am terrified of hurting myself
Or worse,
Of hurt
ing you?
Do you know
That your smi
le is the most amazing thing
I have e
ver seen?
Do you know
How much I miss thos
e
Quiet moments in the dark of the wings,
When you let me put my head on
your shoulder?
Do y
ou know
That I co
u**ldn't sleep
Because of the ridiculous
Warm-fuzzy-floaty feeling you gave me
When you said that you adored me?
Do you know
How badly I want to kiss you
Kiss you
And hold your hand
And never, ever stop?
Randolph Napoles Aug 2018
Rain heavily pours in this sky that’s getting darker,
The clouds above cursing us with the roaring thunder.
Missing the summer heat, time really changes too fast,
Yesterday the sun blinds these eyes and dries this land so vast.

These cold mornings that gets me too comfortable in my bed,
Makes me wonder would it be better to lengthen the rainy season instead?
Yet the downside is the flooding roads and beaches that cant be enjoyed,
Wet and wild may be the theme, but during this times emotions are being toyed.

Yesterday I am energetic and up tempo with a very ecstatic vibe,
Yet now I feel gloomy, lazy with this irritating sense of depression inside.
Well not everyone though, shout out to those that’s feeling their couples warmth,
To those alone in their beds, calm your mind this is a good time to think of art.

A sudden thunder jolts my sense of poetry, trying so hard to write,
Thinking hard, so hard to think of someone, as this pen I bite.
I thought of something, opened this window and began to listen to the wind,
It whispered things, about the difference of the warmness of sun and the heaviness of rain.

Unexpectedly you enterd this empty mind, that I tried to fill,
Fill with things like nonsense stuff that seems important and real.
Well now since you are there, you gave this nonsense things their meaning,
Well to be fair with how perfect you are, everything will gradually start shining.

I am starting to like now these cold and rainy days because of you,
Since every coffee I sip, I can’t stop but think of thos beautiful view.
Where both you and me under the pouring sky, letting ourselves get wet,
Me holding your hand and looking at you, embrace you, make you feel my heat.

Boom, Suddenly this thunder woke me up from my daydreaming,
Now I am back again in reality, I urge myself to stop overthinking.
I placed this pen down, prepare to rest and put my self asleep,
This will allow me to dream of you, and i hope that I won’t fall for you too deep.
Vladimir s Krebs Nov 2015
every day is new but my anger grows. when it turns into night my psychoticness grows stronger. one of thes days im going to snap and go psychotic on thos who wasted my time.

but anger is one thing but ill never go insane  on any one who dont **** me off
good day
optional
Jerry Howarth Oct 2021
This is not a poem, this is a story of a an 83 yr old man, that
got away with lying aboat his actual age, so he could box,
for the light weight Dallas County Iowa, championship.

"Howath is the name and these are my two knock out fists, Gerald
and Ron, and I'm here to sign up for the light heavy weight championship boxing title of Dallas County."

That was my official registration to the County boxing Commisson.
They of course ask me my age and some other questions related to
my boxing experience, to which I lied very convincingly.

By the way, the way to lie convincinly is to literally believe yourself what you are lying about. I had spent hours telling myself the lies I told the Boxing Commission, so they had no doubt about what I told them about my boxing experience. I even had some fake newspaper articles about my boxing experiences that I printed on my home printing press. I'll tell more about this later in this story.

What motivated me o do this, was the current chjampion was the
Grandson of one of my high school class mates that I detested, because h was such a proud blow hard, about every athletical thing
he did, from being a baseball pitcher, a running back football player,
a wrestler and on and on he bragged about himself. One time when
I could not somach his bragging and pompous ay he walked, I confonted him to his face, actually his chin, as that was as close to
his face I stood. He was aout 6' 4'' and I was slightly over 6'. I looked him in the eyes and told him I and every one else in school was sick
and tired of his bragging about himself.

He then sneared a me, reached down and gabbed me by the coller of my shirt, and said. "Why you little dumb pimpsqueet, you aint nothing but a hog raising farm boy!" and shoved me hard against
the hall way wall, so I smacked the back of  my head against it, and
knocked out for a few minutes, long enough for someone dumping a cup full of water on my face to bring me alert. Then ol blow hard
spread it around that I had attemped to hit him and he "just naturally" defended himself and gave me a little shove.

But back to the main part of this story, I had been working out in the city gym, workig on my cardio, thats my breathing. I had been keeping up with my physical condition all of my life, so for an 83 yr old man  I am in good physical shape. I have been punching the heavy bag on daily basis , and have had someone bouncing a heavy medicine ball on my stomach five minutes every day, so I have  those three muscle stand outs on my stomach, tht every body ooos and aaas about.

I also sparred with young boys around 20 and 30 years old, convincing them I was just 28, by my foot work and bobbing and weaving and left hand jabs. I still had a good head of hair, which I
had dyed a light black, which also convinced the boxing commission that I was 38, actually the year I was bornd, 1938

My boxing bout with the young grandson of this high school class mate that I detested, was suppoe to be just a warm up match for him, in preperation for a title fight. He was the Dallas County Light Heavy Weight champion defending his title against some unbeaten
opponant. My goal was to knock him out, and disqualify his title fight.

Oh yes, I neglected to mention my boxing manager, who was a young 62 year old retired boxer. He didn't grow up in
Dallas County, Iowa,  so he had no idea of my bckground age. He came from New York or New something.  I had him convinced that I was just 38 yrs old also. I grew up in a small town called Clive about 60 miles from Des Moines, were the fight was scheduld. Clive was a town with a population of around 2500 when I lived there. Most of the people who knew me are living under ground,
or in a old folks home, so the secret of my age will not be revealed.
,
This grandson of the school mate I detested, is just like his Dad, a smart mouth, bragging, pompous, cocky strutton show boat. He has no idea who I am, but has already started boasting about what he is going to do t me.

"Hey, I'm only 27 yrs old and this old man I'm fighting is 38 yrs old. Somebody will have to help him through the ropes to get in the ring." "What's an old man like him still thinks he is a boxer?

"He ought to be sitting on his back porch, watching the rabbits and squirrels hop around."

"He claims  to be 38 yrs old, I'll knock him out in 38 seconds in round 3."
   ,
He came to the gym when I was working out one morning to scout me out; I put on an act of being slow and winded.

He yelled at me from a few feet away, "Hey old man, my kid sister
has a faster jab then you. You sure you want to fight me?"

My manager walked up to him, and gave him a double arm shove
out the door, so hard he stumbled. "You big mouth punk, crawl
back in the skunk hole you came from."

                           The Big Fight

I was in the ring first, and was warming up wih litle dance steps I had had learned in a dance studio, which I intended to use on him, BTW  his name was Virgil Thornley, but he took pride in calling himself, "V T"=Very Tuff.

He was taking his time coming to get nto the ring,  and when he did decide to enter, he did so with a bunch of short skirted cheer leading girls dancing to loud music being played. When he approched the ring, two of the girls, squatted down on one knee and VT than made a big show of standing on each of their leg, and pushed himself off, tumbling over the ropes onto the ring apron.
amid 40,000 loud cheering fans.

"Enjoy it while you can VT, becaus in about 15 minutes, five three minute rounds, yu're gonna have 40,000 stunned fans looking at you, sprawled half way under the ring ropes, watchng the referee
waving the fight over."
                                ROUND ONE
JT came quickly to the center of the ring with a stupid looking
grin on is face, hands down, swinging back and forth at his waist level.

I took a couple steps towad him, then through him a big surprize,
that stopped him in his tracks. I did a little two step tap dance, and in the few seconds it took him to recover from surprize, I took a quick step toward him and shot out a left jab, purposly hitting
his right eye. Over my years of boxing experience, I developed a
fast twist at the end of the jab. This little twist would tear the skin
producing a cut in the eyebrow, which it did to VT. I don't think he had ever bee cut before by the way he wiped his eye, leaving his face unprotected, of which I took advantage, and smacked him with
another quick jab on his nose, drawing another spurt of blood.

VT wasn't expexcting such an early barrage of attack, and strted back peddling. Once again, I put on my little tap dance,
to a 40,00 applauding, whistling crowd of men, women and teen agers. By now ol VT had no idea what to do with me. He took a quick look over at his corner for help. And when he did I took a big step foward and planed to quick left jabs on each of his eyes.

I heard the fight annoncer telling the radio listners, he had never seen such a show boating boxer like  Howarth is putting
on. He has VT totally confused, not knowing what to do with
him. He came in to this fight as a warm up for his upcoming defensive championship fight with Scrapiron Peel and he is being bloodied and cut up, by what in the boxing sport is considered old, a man close to his 40's but is moving like a 25 or 26 year old. Folks I don't recall Howarth in any past fights, but uh, hang on a moment Howarth is moving around VT, bobbing, weaving and talking to him, I can't quite read his lips, but someting about going down in uh, some round. Meanwhile VT continues to back peddle away from Howath, who is trying to cut him off....Oh! now Howarth stops chasing him and motioned with his hands to come in and fight. There's the bell ending this third round.

There is some kind of commotion going on behind me.... some one wants to tell me something, but is being detained by the police.
Hey officers, let him talk to me. Folks, this is the crasiest night I have ever experienced, let's see what this old man, I'm serious about Old, He mst be  "Uh how old are you, sir?"

"I'm just a couple years younger than Howarth. We  grew up together in Perry, Iowa. I'm 81 years old and that old man in the ring, he was known as "Howie" is 83 years old and...."

"Hold on just jack rabbit minute! Are you telling me, that Howarth,
  what did you call him? Howie, that boxer in the ring,  beating VT, the current light weight Dallas County champion, is 83 years old? Is that what you are saying?"

"Yep, dats whot Im sayng.We growed up t'gether, in da same school t'gether, wrestled and boxed t'gether, and I'm 81 years old and he was alays 2 yars older'n me, so I knows he is 83 yars old.

Folks., getting back to the igh, VT is circuling to his right to get in position to throw is left hook and then is righ overhand knock ut puncht . I think Howie is aware of what VT is trying and keeps circing to his left.


This is the  the round Howarth bragged he would KO VT. VT is coming out in his usual swagering way, Howarth had him intimiated in the first four rounds, with his little dancing jig and blooding his nose and eye. VT wasn't use to that kind of pressure, but his corner manager and some others that joined him, gave him a little pep talk, and so he has regained his cofidence. As usual Howarth, trys his little tap dance aa he approaches VT, it's gotten a little much and no one is cheering it.

I failed to ask you, old man, your name"

"I was known as Scrapieon in Perry, my real ame isRichard Peel.
Yo said dis is da round Howie is going to lower da boom on this young feller?"

"Well that's what he told the fight reporters in the news paper. But frankly, I have doubts that he can do it. Thus far all I've seen from your friend is  a few left jabs. He hasn't used his right in the entire fight."

"Well you just keep your eyes on his right; what yor going to see is a flurry of left jabs, ad out of nowhere his right and will suddenly show up and that will be the end of the fight."

Well folks there is just three minites left i thos round, if Howie is going to KO VT, he is ging tp alf to get more agressie than, oh,Howie just connected with a double left jab, and another one and he had VT weak leggedfromma barrage of jabs. He looks like he is about to go down OH WOW Howie hit him with a straight right hand punch right between his eyes and VT is on the canvas, tryng too ge up, the count is up to 5, 6,7 VT was up at the cnt of 8 bt collapst. The referee is waving the figt over, and tne Dallas County  light heavy weight champion has been kocked out by Howie Howarth in the 5th round just as he predicted.
ROUND oxing epeiec
If I got a transplanted liver I'd want a good one: big, meaty, delicious with fried onions & able to handle a bellyful of wood alcohol like it were ginger ale. My new liver would be powerfully resilient; the kind of liver that don't take NO for an answer; a liver that kicks ***; a liver two times better than the liver Evel Knievel got & one a million times more ******-resistant than the liver they crammed into MacKenzie Phillips-daughter-*******-pervert John Phillips!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The point of presumption is that human beings constructed as human beings are constructed could so interact with God as to be persuaded by the countenance of the deity when they were left unpersuaded by the evidence of his handiwork. That's a remarkable presumption. Much more reasonable it seems to me is those who cannot see the handiwork will not be able to see the countenance either. There's a limitation, a kind of aspect blindness at work. Not everyone appreciates Mozart. That's just a fact.” — Dr. David Berlinski
Paul Donnell Oct 2017
From start to finish i am ******
eyes red capillaries broken
can you break me
you berate me
thos second self that speaks in solar winds
blasting apart my ******* head
I blink
the star dust mixed with red
you follow me to bed
whiskey cant silience
Bright lights blink twice for no
shut up
i want to be alone
Manic
I could've faked the manned moon missions for $30 billion dollars {instead of $40 billion} simply by hiring illegal Mexican laborers, thereby saving American taxpayers $10 billion dollars!
CharlesRudd Apr 2019
The three hardest words
How thay linger in my thoughts
I cant wait
To hold you
Pull you closer
Uttering thos three
Small
Dangerous
Words

I love u
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2019
.disclaimer: see below.

and i woke up and thought:
well this could work...
   i don't know what
   amitriptyline does to me
anymore...
   other than leave a foul
taste in my mouth...
         the liter of whiskey does
much more...
  but... combine that
with naproxen (500mg)
   taken just before falling asleep...
and you can wake up...
feeling comfortably numb...
  the slow war of economics...
opening the sunday newspaper
there's an opioid epidemic
happening in England...
hmm...
   curious...
naproxen being
an  anti-inflammatory
pain-killer...
             so... what if
all these anti-depressants
are not really working...
    and you could take
one  anti-inflammatory
drug, like naproxen
   before going to bed?
  ****, works for me,
i fall asleep and wake up
like a pink floyd song...
the current problem in
england, with opioids?
i'll list the usual suspects:
co-codamol,
            tramadol,
             co-dydramol,
         dihydrocodeine,
   fentanyl...
once again...
  naproxen is an:
     anti-inflammatory...
i don't even know
what amitriptyline is...
but... you know...
me dumb-dumb...
        i'm all for experimenting...
psst...
it's apparently an
           anti-psychotic...
         and an anti-depressant...
so it's multi-task
   NHS approved
variety of paracetamol...
or... something...
  but what if...
   an anti-inflammatory
  drug, like naproxen
could be used instead
   of anti-depressants to
sooth the symptoms of
depression...
       hell...
i said and i'm the one
experimenting
            on myself...
    500mg of the stated drug?
eh...
       paracetamol
just doesn't do me any good...
but always before falling
asleep...
   and it's not even a sense
of a comforting numbness...
more...
             a vacancy...
anyway...
   it's good that
i'm experimenting
                       on myself...
so... is there any need for
                          a disclaimer?
what i'm waiting for
is someone to come up with
the term: chemo-phobia...
or akin...
       a phobia of chemistry...
because what other cure
is there and to boot a bottle
of shampoo...
   ****... banned...
alcohol... frowned upon...
   reality ******* t.v.?
  movies...
that's it...
   oh... right... jogging...
people will be people and
will always find their own
          nieche outlet
for whatever existential angst
is budding in them...
me? beer, walk...
   one tree is already
          premature in showing off
her spring bloom...
  eager *******-she...
or... how else to personify
                        a tree...
right...
             hermaphrodite...
children of the titan's daughter
aphrodite...
      no.... i'm not feeling
                    this        "poem",
thos: pooem.

ah... but i'm starting
to feel something:
                
   whoever gesaffelstein
  is?
               i'm all for viol...
and...
   that's the sort of "back in the day"
youtube jukebox
  was like...
     when the ******* algorithm
did "my bidding"
  or spewing out decent
obscurities...
   along with something
by die sonne satan,
die krupps,
            or vomito *****...

too many said too many
   basic things,
the perverts hooked in,
and now...
   the great jukebox is ******...
although...
once in a while...
you get to experiences
glitches forward to the past
style of experiences...

   no point talking at this point,
devil make my idle hands
itchy,
         neurotic anti-typos...

drop a white pill,
   and, sooner rather than later...
your writing becomes
tinged with something
     akin to non-pharma
experimental science...

  the overinflated meaning of words?
the rat entered the maze
and started to nibble
on its tail...
      wow... like discovering
h'america in a can of sardines...

    old continent,
year zero...
            and... like...
every rap song in the mainstream
without the word yeah,
or um in it?

maybe this anti-inflammatory
drug only works
   to tease a flamboyant
       nonchalance of utilizing
language with alcohol?
     no no...
    not a chance in hell...
              you need the music;

(gesaffelstein - viol)...
      oh sure sure...
        i'll just sooth my self-worth
by saying i listen to
nothing but classical music
or jazz...
                    that would...
   never' work.
    (psst...
apostrophe...
the upper comma...
implying...
  well... not possessing something
outside the plural,
in Ęgleash...
    ****** began life hanging,
he's going to remain hanging
like a christmas tree bulb,
he will be,
  made,
    implied,
to,
         state,
     a,
    quicksucessionofwordsinasentence...

otherwise?
   you want the german
spelling
   of complex compounded words...
of the chemical name?
oh... right... almost forgot:                                 )
Thos. Jefferson called democracy "the most abominable form of governance known to Man." Democracy = mobocracy, whereat 51% of the citizenry may trounce the rights of 49% of the citizenry. We have (not in practice anymore, of course) by the Constitution: a representative democracy.
Dark Angel is a man a beast that has no heart, he always looks so confused about life and love or even how to be nice. I remember so much how he would tell me over and over how he could change and he could be my everything I ever needed. But I didn't allow him to be anything for me. I couldn't stand him being around me, even the thought turns my stomach, Dark Angel said: " I would have been your everything at one time, I was your King," That's when I looked back and said: "Only in thos painful darken dreams a place I never wanted to be."

- Judy Emery © 1983
The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
THE QUEEN OF DARKEN DREAMS POETIC JUDY EMERY
Pan Zastepow i Pan Podstepow...
prawda?
cztery serca ma!
cztery serc ma!

when i drink and when i smoke
i don't want to lose my autonomy:
my automaton ulitmatum
and the counter argument against
free will...

there is no free will but
there's the freedom to think
and my Cartesian mechanisms
of res cogito
and res extensa:

in that: there's no ergo sum
when you propose
a res cogitans
and a res extensa:
you get schizophrenics that way!

the extension of thinking
becomes hallucination
whether welcome or unwelcome
whether you can command
the voices
to give mould a second mold
for this earth:
these stones:

let me understand you better:
god, because jesus will not aid
me trapped in strobe light paparazzi
of getting crucified:
walking the red carpet:
authentic? was it?
yes:
but can it be translated from the depths
of god's uncle:
the Solpisus: the grand magician of
solipsism...

i need two diacritical letters:
then i'll explain myself...
my uncle Martin is talking to me
talking to my father
he is the horse of the plague...
and he has 4 hearts:
he has 4 hearts!
i'm finally talking to the dead
among those in hell
among those in heaven and
those in my mirror of Purgatory:
my grandfather is crying
and my grandmother a killer of both
father and son...
so that makes her a forthcoming
Medussa ****** Poseidon's trident...

ah... away from political
and family matters...
the stairs are staged: there's Jacob
with a timer:
stairs into an eypical English
abode
of the houses and the gardens:
like hanging: Babylon style?

***** is a *****: look up: i said Medussa
****** Poseidon's trident
because Poseidon didn't want to ****
as much as Zeus
and Hades was an choir boy ******:
and pharaoh...
since he asked of the living:
to build a temple higher than the mountains!
and made of sound and sand!

i levi with you: as a priest, a rabbi: not exactly a jew:
you enchroached on Poland
when waited...
let's see about the Baltic States...
ooh... ooh...
i was thinking about south east Asia
and China as the Russia
of Europe
and i was thinking Japan is England
i'm... thirsty...
i still need those two diacritical letters...
Korea is like...
**** knows what Korea is...
given it's split and splinters from the north:
North Korea is France and South Korea
is Italy?

no no! mop up the blood and guts and brain...
south Korea is Greece
and north Korea is Turkey...
but England is certainly bronze age Japan
and Russia is the iron age China:
current year...
get with the ******* project!

Pan  ZASTĘPÓW
  (Herr)
Pan  PODSTĘPÓW
loosely: a lord of reincarnations
as father:
and the satan son
of tricks...

a hellish dualism of still waiting
for the zombie rebellion:
a zombie crusade against the gods of monotheism:
because it would only take one god
from polytheism:
to conjure up a tree and it being chopped
up into toothpicks
to conjure angels and demons:
but forget about...
that third faction of heavenly beings
like the geniuses...
and the faction of the closest
prioximate hunger for knowing
planetary movements:
Earth is the daughter of Atlas...
Venus is the daughter of...
Mars is the son of...
Jupiter is the son of...
Neptune: Uranus: Pluto...
we call Saturn a: satiated orbit:

beyond the concentration of water in body
animate:
there's the long lost and gaseous
as grand as the planets in orbit:
like feminism when digging trenches
and tunnels to reach Darwinism:
because feminism thinks that Darwinism
is a philosophy:
but merely an observational weight...
there was only Darwin and no counter claimant
of Darwin's observation came along
to decide upon the rigid strcutures of
bio-society:
beyond mere architecture
but how people interacted with each other:
how technology like ants would
impact the Gregorian mind of the grand ape
know nothing...
i can move away from serpents
and imagining dragons because
then came unearthing thos dinosaur bones...
my mind is filled
with pacts of mosquitos with flies
and the archaic outlandish history according
to Darwinism
not because the dinosaurs  and the meteor
and is that a subjective: instinctive:
god given narrative proof and probe?
the one night the moon fell asleep?
or just because the moon is the daughter of...
****: either Pluto...
Pluto... Neptune is also the former, current:
name for Poseidon...
a planet given a name of one of the Titans:

not of gods: gods in proximity:
but Titans beyond...
the moon will tell you:
she will...

now i have technology like ants crawling on my mind
and tapeworms for all that's alive
and this world fear:
away from the serpents:
i looked in:
and from:
popularized pschology:
the chaos of Ouroboros
that came the order of Caduceus...

like the focus of the other ancient man
with the crows...
Huginn of thought
and Muninn of memory...

Ouroboros of chaos depicted as order
and Caduceus of order depicted as chaos
of discovery: from that the DNA helix...
and hex: upon you all... and hex hex:
upon you all; a sweet dream:
the sweetest of dreams:
falling asleep with a cat and a wife
0000000 miles away...
when it's raining: lying in a tent...
with the sound of rain...
cradling and nudging the sleep...
tender sleep:
tenderest of babes.
Maddy Jan 2020
Will post more thos week.
Worki g on book promotions and getting good agent.
Hi,Everybody!

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