I famigerate without taciturn timidity the straits of a straightened jury-rig of nesiote narrowbacks harping the accordion zest and zeal of the plenilune consuetude of a scrivello infamy sprung into the rows of rip-tide acclaim hamstrung by the decline in fastidious upkeep of the timberlask vesicles that avoid the phenakism of prismatic reformation fundamental to transmogrified simpers of dismal saturnine darkness encroaching on the parallax of realms within the dominion of the Almighty for the omniety of the usucaption of the fruitful prune in the priggish afterglow of a noontide eclipse bereaved of whispering retreat in the hallowed wasms of stiltanimity becoming an entreaty to ecumenical barbs of propriety selected without intimacy to folksy bibliopolists but rugged in sterling tribute to the true vine of the appointed ways of sacerdotal triage among a roughshod vanity of a derelict world marveling at otiose rejoinder rather than true spasms of tragedy flickering in the recessive alleles of a careworn culture. The travesty of Beirut is the bromide of current leapfrogs of sentinel lust and malapert destruction forming an ironclad camaraderie with chocolate-box langlauf disasters wed uxoriously to the penury of the brackish version of the catadromous bailiwick of despotic nescience pregnant with sophrosyne redemption at the cusp of a plaid perfunctory quip of quisling intimations of the sketchy provenance of humdingers of comestion lurking in the plodding prowl of a ribald wiseacre of a beckoned billow of trinkochre welded into a conscientious blarney that awaits the popinjays that sculpt brittle redshort fictions into awakened carapaces of a limacine reduction of impoverished fulmination into the neatly sworn footprints of a geotaxis shuddering with magnetism only in spectacle without the overhailing zeal of vintners who specialize in curtailed wine drawn from Caiaphas and soaked with the muddy turgid Siloam as avenues toward the repentance of asunder becoming marginalized as a whimper of taciturn choleric war receding not even into an audible delope as the masterful chryselephantine assault of cryptic auditions in the theater of effete refuge sink into the pelagic oblivion of a remarkable blister festering into inconsequence as the rebarbative emoluments to tattered travesty hearken a battle-cry yet emanated in the reprehensible bulwark of the gerendum of a poised plastered humility aggrieved with such friction turgid on rollicking magpiety that even the larceny of brutish renegades of triumph sink beneath the brevity of accident rather than the fortitude of globalized turpitude weakened by the improper demarche of fuliginous homeless depredation of innocent bystanders flocking to the harvest of war found in insight rather than the perfunctory bromidrosis of the macroscian enmity of hidden maleficence spawning a credenda that is spayed on arrival in the faineant zoolatry of a spelunkers’ madcap dash to flex the filigrees of turmoil in resentment of the amicable truces of a God who never tempts and a lurking lie that never itches for trigger-happy hapless rebukes because the skittish skirmish of futilitarian repose is a scoundrel of the profligacy of errant weakness blinkered by the humdrum din of deafening semaphores of provocative thornbush on the threshing floor of cowardly imposture president of all affairs of spirit and all renegades of caitiff megalography of forgotten oblivion despite the curglaff of vindictive and never vindicated assaults on the integrity of the birthright of Lebanon to wager a presumptive gamble of trifling retribution for the alacrity of suspicions eloping with forbidden mistresses in the humdingers of flackey rather than the troudasque harbinger of a lunacy impugned by a restive triumphant fallow time seasonable for a litany of pretenses demassified for a liturgy of seances with eldritch commiseration in the saw-toothed serration of selachostomous bravado wielded by likely or unlikely culprits of ravenous ruin shepherded by the guilty cardinal sins of the complicity of explosive vanity marauding on the ruins of a fortress debased by pettifoggery of internal excuse rather than the wrath of provocative ire in the irksome cauterized wounds of the inured to deliver spectacular reticence despite such grievous diacope. Evil gilderoys of maleficence carve the sapwood of the periphery to aimless subversions miscarried by the modern atrocity of glamour memorialized as a sound-byte underminnow of a roaring rhombos rip tide as stocks wavy at the curvature of edgy demarche despoil the denuded wasteland of cultural despondency a wagtail to the impudence of famigerated affronts that deserve a sterling recompense wielded by the onerous and operose burdens of a prone decubitus of aboriginal bread seeded from Heavenly realms dissipating into the roars of blinded conflagration too meek to even exist on the ramshackle hillside of a barnstorm of aggression powerless to encapsulate the nexility of unspoken allegiance to destruction rather than the halidom of consecrated marriages balking at the caulked provisions of a slugabed monolith of craven capers on the recesses of abeyance in the interregnum of a time where famous people communicate with me. How can such a charismatic bravado of lurking presidency stoop to the denizens of usufruct in licentious latitudes on the outskirts of consideration even pretend anymore that the vacuum of effluvium (Gal 6:7) can be mocked and milked into the row of centuries blistering through the calenture of apprisal and heaved awakening as the zephyrs of the Occident meet temporal juncture with the coenesthesia of a hibernating trumpery formed by the turnverein of listless lethargy billowing through fumiducts of siphoned lavaderos of hypogeiody that the underground spasms of cacophony could marvel at the historic emergence of a magnate with the most powerful magnetism of God shepherding the true flock John 10:27 because he is willing to be the good shepherd and potentially die for his sheep John 10:11. Remember, whenever you hear a Queer Studies Radical Feminist bloviate on emasculated sardanapalian posture John 8:44 and even though personified as a masculine titan of bulwarks of immense otiose wilted inkburch shielding the world from true meaning, the maskirovka of the Devil is present in the dark trespasses of personal abandon among the wilderness of many marsupial jackals of martles wagtails to an invictive proclamation of invulnerable sappy sopanaceous filibusters against hefty sinew forged the bony fragments of the charnels lost to brief epitaphs never mourned in threnodies worthy of remembrance that the departed died with us and live again through us whether in Heaven as participant or on Earth as an acting battalion of the skullduggery of the mystique of shimmers of God acting on Man’s behalf 1 Col 1:15-16. That the firstborn of all creation obtains supremacy through the finalisms that I seek as the captain of trailblazing untrammeled roads we are reminded of the narrow and wide gates expanded by the explosion of thought that trespasses into the hidebound ratchet of a reasonable bleat becoming a harsh outcry of justice for Lebanon that they feel so powerless in implosion what could aggrieve potentate civilizations to the precipice of global maleficence in destruction. Swarming for alveolate hominid hominism as an outgrowth of alienation by design polarized spectral dangles at jaundice flamestun by the ordeal of oppositive barnacles to the chryselephantine habituation of a masked menace of Procrustean authority to muzzle the free license of armamentariums of a latent man keen to the kenspeckel visibilia that we might have punctuation in the poised primiparas of a hearkened unprecedented in modern history that the traipse of lapse is no longer the tenure of mindless calculation of authoritarian gabble sentries of a mobilized fleet of embodied human ignorance but a foisted sprite of whangams of apothegm that deserve in their gnomic respite from the phenakisms of a philogeant kumbaya assertive in its treony of radical compassion for those who dwell in tentpoles of revelry bound not to the covenant that sent us into light and sparkling in hidden obsolescence that the fulgurant words of Mount Horeb (Sinai) are both immaculate and without trace of sin because Acts 17:30 declares a powerful truth lost to the twinges of time that issued peremptory governance of my theology but through remission I admit the grievances of septiferous blockades of ponderous plodding nescience haunting the spectral aubades of paeans to a high-flown sun darting through galactic space apace of the velivolant sails of divine wind that come in the spree of recompense authored by the vines to which all roots belong rhizogenic and immutable because the demarches of time forget the marches against the cauterized grime of new-world suspicions of aleatory fickle gubernatorial proclamations that issue reverb more than sprinkle flanged atrocity in the sight of the holy ramparts of an active double-edged God who reminds us of our many witnesses but provides not a single latchkey of escapism resident to many hapless homes of the drunken sing-song rhapsody nullifying the psychotaxis of the motatory miserly Draconian charades of Leviathan grasping the tridents of warp-speed revisionism in a benighted world overrun by mandarist fictions that fumigate a pasteurized control of cultural malcontent in situations of dearth infested by the concentration camps of China that remain unheralded in brumal and brutish indoctrination spared from worldwide outrage by the tribunes that are complicit more in malfeasance than they are celebrated for the herald of heinous bletcherous crimes of abecedarian abligurition anointed in waste rather than refined like unquenched slakes of eternal water so that no man can thirst hungry for the daily bread without returning to the providence of God awakened. Recalcitrant by the impudent quislings of repugnasket flarmeys of advenient flummoxed besieged clairvoyance I bask and beaze on the light that never fades because of the brackish whisk of a barnstorm of allegiance that is contumely to a bromide society listless in inferiority of intellect to my former streaks beyond jejune reiteration of the Jehu mentality against the canine fate of Jezebel and her faltered ministry of ewnastique waged as battalion gore of a trifling musket of an aboriginal swim through the oceanic gaze of peerless eternity squirming because of flagging resolution among the spandrels of incommunicable largesse lolloped extravagantly not just for the spoils of hyped pedigree but also a chamade to Heaven to enlist the purblind vestiges of a crambazzled Earth rejuvenated in adolescent esprit rather than callow eclat against the outrecuidance of whimpered miserly conscientiousness that exists in a shorter frame of reference than the provident dashes through a furlough of time and ancestry to cobble together a lapidary bristling excoriation of the tumescent squabbles of mystique brave enough to rarefy the humid pasteurization of a mannequin kenspeckel still-frame jilt of jostled infamy brusque in its curt envies borne of still-born promenades of a whasper between the youthful ligony and the intrepid soul of a collective warrior debased by the adscititious participant to elegant effronteries of the newfangled intellectual vogue that is the grombang of the tralleyripped hamshackle of ostentation meeting mirrored paralysis in sheepish ewnastique creations meddlesome in their ironic frizz of recursion as I lounge on the habits of creation by intelligent lurches of design that appointed the demarcations of all creatures and the mysterious bridge between the missing links that remain elusive to the flombricks of the misery of epigenetic rhizogenic imparlance of desuetude cringing at foresight littered with the disaster of ravished hindsight blushing at the limpid degeneration of the vapid varnish of benighted ligony rather than heroic strides of stoic-epicurean compromise in the apolaustic pursuit of the one eternal God present in rebellion but never the temptress of mendacity and mendaciloquence because the tug I have on speed is ratifying a cauterized casualty in the spumid betrothed wicked snuffs of extinguished furor for a time beyond barnstormed racloir rugged origination and faulty phenogenesis that escorts mythos into actionable litanies of the awakened breed scoffing at the inkburch of “Electrolytes”-wernaggle that besets the queer fascinations of a warped generation. The pytherian swank of artrench embodied in the recocted rendevation of hypetrophy in hubris swaddled by the reductive dranger polluting the realm of compliant complicant complaints of the ashowel of albatross astroud in the hibernaculum of langlauf rather than the ultramontane fiduciary tether to the estrockentch rather than the laureates of plevisable courage found in truest shades of vinsky not the subhastation of a gaslighted galvanization of purebred classy swivels of opportunism nor the ravenous incubus appetite for usufruct in subversion belongs to the behest of an insular nesiote flexing the flux of subversion as the candid posies of saccharine immodesty become relegated figments of the everlasting age of promised propriety rather than rigid stultimathy of hackencrude virtues of virtuosos that marvel at troudasque wonders occluded by the girlcott of Team Biden and his militarized soldiers of desiccation of trumpery and the faucets unbounded by swanky concealed epithets of regaled rentgourge by a hapless objection of the runic destruction of apothecary leniency becoming of the betokened emblazonry of scrimshank in every perfuncturation but embodiment of character shouldered by every chasm of power erected in demolition of the warped egintoch radicalism of the submerged wernaggles of the hopeless minority swimming with autodimplage few have to bear but the truest flock of God heeds my voice and has the sapience to spare themselves of contumely and invective to hearsay of invictive triumph beyond radioglare swirk to renege the musical providence of the chamades to the asterongue I often take for granted by immunifacient degrees of the foretold encroaching upon the crux of a pivotal and pivoted destiny not distant from cordial providence. The sweedle of epigones for the risctender of obligation to subvert the coryphaeus with the rigmarole of gentincture borrowed from the Gates’ formulaic effleck of perverse warbles of collectivized contrition for abetted cultural pederasty limpid in its achieved objective of the crudenzy borrowed from a lacking impediment to arentrum belonging to the knowledgeable happenstance of the glorified dengonin is a denostram that forestalls the agelasts behind porsters of culture rather than legitimate mainlined contamination of wellsprings of fliction of paranoiac enthusiasm might swim in kinkativy blinkered blind piebald girouettism but never dauntless in sematic entrenchment of robust dilettantism as the swaddled corrugation of time into centripetal ****** against centrifugal modernism that alienates propriety while estranging by vacuous vacuums the outspoken progeny of the surviving age beyond the Jay and Silent Bob travesty that manifests as a glower of menacing Bushian invention to tarnish with ****** mythos the drapes of a defenestrated realism of the flinkers of sheepish indignation against many drakstings of intonorous sclerotic mandibles of crackjaw chockablock annihilation of core precepts and institutions indelible from the face of a quixotic entreaty of a ragged intrusion of ageotropic monoideism above the secular-clerical fidelity of honest witness borne of triumph and tribulation festooning the nativist hyperbole into a useless effigy of mountebank imposture silly in precision and purblind to gallantry. Yet I must kisswonk rather than truckle under such ponderous pretense because of a sertivine certainty in the thickets of prudence rather than the tomfoolery of humgruffin impudence scaffolds me to a post-modern ****** that shanks through prisons of guilt and burrows an interrogation of reality supreme over all complaint that the virtuosity of the Gifted (the elect flock that comprehends my volcanic diatribes against mandarism and stomachs them without sardonic pastorauling insults of passerby vicissitude) will spare many nations of awakened perjury against human instinct in the fitness of nations to denigrate the populist squalor of lurid and livid ewnastique wernaggles of the listless buttress against my formal modesty encouraged in all affairs even in aggrieved humility belonging to intimidation rather than spawned jostles through the rumpus of shunamitism that might rankle a later age.  Yentrified morality is a personal flapdoon against the promiscuous pederasty of freewheeling ophelimity and the lurking narquiddity of the traindeque of donnist hedonism to hijack my psychedelic tolerance into an unwarranted and inadvisable sanction into the netherworld of the frinterans of cultural modality that curdact religion into a cosmetic cosmogony rather than a soldiered infamy becoming a beacon on a towering hill growing in solidarity with the pleonasm of existence itself which surpasses crude formulas that already abide by the riches of decorum too much to be admired as trigger-happy fools run the asylum of domesticated irony and the librettos to downfall rather than the wassails of “The Man” becoming more masculine in featured charisma rather than defiled against Leviticus among others who preach belonging to nuclear creed without fission but for true rapprochement to the fusion of the treony with legitimate gripes of unsung complaint among the masculine minority. The traindeque of a baseline complaint aggrieved by the kilmarge carapace of stiltanimity for the hackencrude resentment of the inkburch of illiteracy is a profligate degeneracy lurid in hyped enmity that the envied entreaty becomes the despotic shadow masquerading in shadows blossoming into the full wisdom of the mature sophrosyne heart eager to pour out blessings upon a conservation of recycled epitaphs becoming hearsay in a rebarbative convolution of redacted rigmarole incendiary to whittled henpecks of political engineering but never vapid in their flagging insistence upon an ecumenical toleration of the brooks of modernity and compromise upon which much felicity is aggrandized and permuted against the spoilsport frinterans who encage a dodgy moralism in wilted etiolated jaunty pedigree that espouses the maudlin grievous and ghastly ghouls and sprites that haunt the fictional hobgoblins of the Potemkin Village that finds usury convenient and perjury even more facile for the glib facetious engineers of modalities of hatred unsung by the ribald witwanton “I got a Solution...You’re a ****…South Carolina What’s Up” crowd that never marvels at ingenuity or rarely attempts it in the summit of the climacteric jaundice of hidebound whemmles of ridicule sparring against spartan flagitious wiseacres of genocide of ideation for the revelry of armed missives denatured by raw promotion of the questionable ethics of a flavork of needed slakes of unquenchable desire swarming us with daily temptresses not of wayward women but the disarmed pretense of a lapidary rejoinder to a long expatiation or harangue against hackencrude curdles of rowboat injustice masquerading as sentinel savory destruction of the towering edifice of proclamation. There is great menace in the casuistry of sophist philogeant philocubists dicey with destiny for mincemeat puppetry against sciamachy for the gallionic rise of gammadions in the craven lore of baseline pasquinade rallied to the insuperable causes of tribal shibboleth anointed by secular totemisms of fracture and fricative hisses of lineage that amount to pleonasms of brassage rather than mystagogical mystique of the prestige of human fraternity that shatters paradigms of creed and invites an honest vestige of Noble Savages to roam the Earth yet again unencumbered by lugubrious welters of misnomer and malapropism wagered by artifices of guileless supremacy that is cursory prima facie neglect of even the sororal duties not of sophomoric glib facetious cowardice of backbited backlash of venom militarized for the desuetude of entertained visagists sculpting *****-nilly their version or verdict of decisive apartheid when we should all rally behind the united frontier of the chosen flock in the chosen generation to truckle beneath the pews not of ignorance aggravated by the polluted kilmarge egintoch puritan barbs against publicity choices I now regret (as an emolument to an incredibly euphoric track with a poor miserly message to the enchanted flock inoculated from such diversions) because alighted upon the quenched thirst of salvation I will be judged more harshly as a teacher James 3:1 than the rest of my flock but gifted with the gratuitous salvation carved from the chiselers of ribald infamy capering around with dacoitage and ladronism of the bomans of unsuspecting quixotic caprice I must reckon with the burden of ghoulish shadows on the spectral imprint of my eternal soul relishing in vicarious splendor yet bereaved of quintessential love 1 Cor 13:4 that is necessary for the nuclear conclamation of vibrant hues of resplendent and refulgent providence necessary not from a dynastic perspective but from an aimed providence that alerts dynamism rather than chides with mimes of useless schadenfreude carved from the prestidigitation of the wicked condemned in Galatians 6:7 for the mockers of sanctanimity accorded upon me as gratuity that no man can boast my elite ears and my astute wonderworks of imagination qualified me for prophecy and among the most mesmerizing prophecies registered to fulfillment that the world has ever yet witnessed because the watershed isn’t a bridgewater for the chavish of ignoramus hatred congealed into thrombosis but the narrowed gate enlarges to encompass the swath of man amenable to the flocks that escort me into permanence rather than regale the tridents of a hedonism that elected me clairvoyant at a cost of immaculate splendor registered to the holy clergy of the Sacred Catholic Church and the broader Ecumenical Endeavor that tries to be a seamstress and bridge elemental divides inherent to divided approaches to liturgy which flex their strengths in times of robust fortitude rather than become a subhastation to the vestiges of the pilgrimage to false tabernacles erected by people cozened into charlatan endeavors by the pernicious and persnickety whiplash of Least Common Denominator subversion of widely heralded sentience and sapience enriching the lot of human ambition rather than stoking useless conflagrations of refracturism accorded to the swallock of primposition of the hackneyed hackencrude that swivels with the odious ornery pretense of overtures not to apertures and lychgates of the true abiding Heaven felt on Earth by many Christians whether in sobriety or not without the evil maleficence of a misguided donnism of narquiddity for the grambazzles of aged recklessness aborning on vacant responsibility that is rickety in its magnanimity of absolution because of the ulterior chase for bottom-line top-dollar oligochrome foisted by the cartels that blind true spiritual insight from ever reaching the magnitude of ambition required to shape mountains of revolution among the tertiary squabbles of a conversant Earth open to the troudasque gallop into yield and cloveryield for repcrevel reforms the paludism of the swamp remains skittish about conforming to because objectivism is a renegade of perspicuous light blinkering in hubris and gourmandizing the hinderbaggle of cosmetic pollutions aggravated by the plevisable articles of envy and TLDR politics to “Electrolyte” logic that is a sad recursive wernaggle of the useless buffoonery of humgruffins of tatterdemalion spate rollicking in the magpiety of a timid consentient faltering myth of unanimity among the beleaguered rainbows of many lugubrious tears showering bickering blasphemy upon the mockery of God for the pleasantry of self-aware sheepish resignation that professes only that any form of meritocracy is existentially unfounded only because the beehive elected its progeny the scepter of the ironclad kingdom that wages war against idolatry and serenades heaven with luxury simultaneously. We are all shepherds of providence and there is power enough in collective prayer that we don’t fiddle around with bodewash in mistaken identity but riddle the persnickety blemish of the fastidious critiques of biting sarcasm as a tantamount blasphemy and a criminal repartee of sardonic cloys of inanity foisted above truth. The peevish breedbates who scour my evidentiary pillar of chiseled vertebrae of unbroken bones of solidarity with oikonisus will be sorely disappointed in their truthful audits of my true perception because in every single case it exonerates me from the pulpit of menacing idiots who scrawl random gabble in attempts to sound smart while reeking of iniquity wrought by the gavels of predevoted inferiority of complexion and attitude that gravitates them to an insensate benumbed transmogrified bailiwick of an appalling atrocity of mythomaniacal myths spurned by consensus among those who prize my grandeur above the superstitions of the illiteracy of the rancid rankle of otiose stupidity writhing its own sheepish envy of arbitrary dislike motivated by feminist aggressors waging warfare on turf I already conquered by swaying the intelligentsia to beckon my cause rather than pillory me on a false scaffold of frinteran abuses of the nyejays of bernacle that junediggle in the taradiddle of the nanciful excoriation of my leaden corpse weighed down by the witchcraft of connivance trayning its own delicate myths while avoiding scrutiny for appalling contumely that deserves an audience more suited for fracklings of treony belonging to the trinkochre of the rising alienation and suicides among perverted gay indoctrination that is a scourge on the planet because it willfully denies with its portentous hibbles the regaled wisdom of the culminated age against renegades of apostasy and for the behemoths of true monumental change that sizzles in savory circles among the vanguard only to alarm the Status Quo hijack of my entire endeavors as a covert crusade to use wrecking-ball fashion tactics to cosmetically incisively and insidiously perform a harprick of surgery upon a blameless countenance only for being a thorn to wragatek wragapole slavery which wages war against universal salvation because it gripes with inkburch and circular pleonasms about the most obvious glaring lies and feasts upon the serrated edge of the capers of hatred that frolic in meadows too skittish to enter the barbarian fortress of my forested residence robust in fortitude and glowering with a menacing contempt for runaround psychobabble that obganiates the obelisk of the moribund crusade to make normative ethics effeminate and to enthrone inviolable women’s speech as supreme to any male objections like the Cristiano Ronaldo accuser that came forth 8 months after #MeToo one of the most dishonest campaigns in modern history enthroned by Hollywood elites in gammerstang insurrection against pay-gap ethics done manipulatively with the sapwood of mendaciloquence like Blasey Ford whose physiognomy reeked of maudlin pretense that was so ornery in how obvious of a maleficence the intrepid Abortion Agenda has over the minds of selfish women who prefer ecbolic second-term abortions to the servile gripes of primiparas building new life rather than tearing down the scaffolds of new generations. Hominism deserves its rise because-in increasing numbers-men are derelicted by society and coerced into vapid tallespin enslavement that ridicules itself with the perjury of soul to the soulless vanity of recursive cycles of benumbed narquiddity found in “****** Hero” among other atrocities littering the human fascination with the hinderbaggle of our polluted age verging on totemic blistering hegemony of a few rotten apples corrupting the vagrant ingenuity of the forgotten champion who ushered in a new era of candor in the attempted interregnum of the United States government because I Am Hollywood got the name correct considering how many memorials there are to me in the movie industry. The junediggles of sc-ha-den-freud-e which is as deliberate of a German pun as JUDEn JuDEN which shows the German language is as farsighted as you can get and why many of my neologisms have a German tinge to them. German is an elegant language with botched syntax but a peerless repertoire of vocabulary and even though I love French, the Germans are smart because their language is smart not just because of petty arguments of pedigree which are specious at best. Being dontolesque with  the zenkidu of rengall nauclatic mythos is an artful degree which accords nominal prestige to licentiates while excorifying the obvious metaphors of sunblind logic that scours the scorched Earth of internet diatribes of sophistry and dethrones the Marcie Biancos of the world “Heterosexuality is officially OVER...K Bye” with her 145 IQ and a Stanford Degree in Queer Studies (A professed atheist by her own Twitter admission) with the warped logic to equate a heterosexual relationship for a woman as ******* to patriarchy. For someone that well-studied in literature she sure is a dumb-*** and I will demolish the syntagma of those that root against me for Status Quo preservation in the official interregnum of Saturdays during the Trump Presidency. We need an official referendum on the ideas of termagant illogical anti-egalitarian poison that derives from a deracinated worldview that doesn’t contextualize how powerful language is at shaping thought because if the entire world were Anglophonic every single country on Earth virtually would see immediate dividends in terms of intellectual creativity and limber with concepts and percepts because it is no accident the most successful empire in History the United Kingdom, was favored because of its shibboleths of Shakespearean creativity draped with flairs of the irreverent while gilded by God to be a majestic commonwealth. England and France monopolized a huge majority of history by no accident because although English might be a slightly keener language the French culture of salons of freewheeling intellectual enlightenment gilded the 17th and 18th centuries into absolution despite the Panglossian epithets of Voltaire who was ironically dissuaded from religion because of the All Saints Day 1755 Lisbon Earthquake and Tsunami. We need to be vigilant against encroachments of perceived shibboleths and more keen on an affirmative meritocracy that favors the poor and blesses the meek in their poverty and inspire ambition among them to join the coteries of refinement in thought sometimes harder to achieve with crackjaw lollops in pleonasmic languages that fail to articulate with nexility or forceful wit the true abstractions that govern the pataphysics of the unknown. Language is so decisive over human thought that it is incumbent upon every language to refine its vocabulary to trayne compendious verbiage and trim the hedges of global reform to invite the curiosity of the age to favor all creeds and languages of Abraham and the diverse progeny of a variegated panoply of majestic feats common to all parlance and capacity beyond just the Anglophonic snare because the world needs not a chicanery of blustering churlish buffoonery but an Almighty respect for the consanguinity of all to God’s blessed creation that he inseminated by his deliberate hands to enrich the world with diversity rather than cleave the world with piecemeal skeumorphs of radical propaganda that opposes the modern and post-modern egalitarian streak. One wrong must be corrected, however, the underrepresentation of Hispanics in the media and in film because this grave error is much more pervasive than the ******* LGBT inclusion narrative because these days the lollygags of fashionista odalisques with Obelisks to Baal get more say over the common decorum than the marginalized bronteum of the  rich and vibrant Latino culture which is squelched by the poverty of media and Hollywood representation. Synectics showcases how a henpecked aim at the synaesthesis of culture congregated around our Almighty Father blessed among the nations who adhere to the progeny of Abraham can be more blessed when working together rather than tribal with nepotism and aristocratic in sustained affronts to the elevation of affirmative meritocracy to the forefront of discussion rather than the froward backlash of benumbed narquiddity because the synallagamatic nature of complexity needs to be devolved with industrious ambition to all cultures and the savory flair of the vogue needs not merely a wednongue fascination with an eventual terminus of crudenzy but a sustained intellectual reformation on all fronts to standardize the English language through Hollywood and the Music Industry so that the dragnets of appeal etch a permanent trace into the engraved souls of the true flock John 10:27 are consecrated in divine purpose to reverse the Babylonian Diaspora of confused and conflated purpose that stunts the raltention of humane course and the proper pataphysical syncrisis of an evolved mundane temperament that transcends the circular traps of circumlocution common to the milquetoast industrial titans who winsomely charm with toady gestures the elitism of a moribund philosophy of intellectual thought delegation to elevate the common rhetoric to reach new pinnacles in both tribune and political gamesmanship because higher standards are required even when they surpass some common understanding so that every ambition becomes a conclave for the goal of human unity solidified by the truth of the kerygma and proclaimed to all creation as the culminated synclastic reformation of the idea of indulgence and the propriety of regaled moderation that appeases the common decorum with a shared vested interest in Latin America especially which is besieged by the cultural tenets of obrogated specialization and denigrated by the common myths of warped phenogenesis which should be debunked as a wasm of hypocrisy limited because its callous tentacles lack the charismatic fulgurant equipment of future generations to bear the operose burdens of a quintessential time of harmony united by the hymns for God by God to appease the sentries in Heaven and the celestial realms that exist for our merriment more than our detriment. The sprauncy have the  frikmag to recognize the spuria of apocryphal heresies that encourage kinship above matriotism and shared fortitude for intellectual valor rather than “*** talk TLDR” hashtags abounding on the turf of the insensate wernaggle of clueless charlatans wiggling through life not because they were borne into slavery but because they choose to be Helicopter Parents of “Baby Shark” rather than token mantelpieces of enlivened culture shimmering with radiation of Gods glory as cemented in Colossians 1:15-16 because the firstborn of all creation lives in some form in the ligature of Christ 1 Cor 12:12 because there are so many talents that exist in our variegated world that the mastery of expertise in dominions of conversant fluency will abet the variegated crops of a draped humanity corrugated on its own ironies for the delicate sizzle of beatific felicity multiplying itself in centupled design over centuries to overcome hinderbaggle while realizing the fictions of some drawflark. The strigine world concedes to this upstart rooster maybe considered a parvenu of dearth but luxuriant in riches boundless to all that draw near to the kerygma of Christ and feast on his daily bread found throughout liturgy because we should listen to people like Cardinal Timothy Dolan who is exceptionally astute (perhaps an understatement) to guide us on a regenerative rather than degenerative pathway towards universal attempts at salvation that broach a new decorum bridged by aliens to select chosen emissaries to bridle the fissions of repartee reserved for the forlorn that balk at ambition rather than relish a new era of seditious determination against the determinist fallacy and for the mental health of those coping with autodimplage and sheepish regrets and persnickety articles of remorse because all the world deserves our consolation and desperate attention rather than the trumpery of the circus masquerade of marauding agitprop which congeals into thrombosis of toxicity as the vast majority of Democrats refuse to even hear Trump speak when he is discussing discursive solutions to enigmatic quagmires,for, if more people listened to Trump they would be disabused by the specious claims of his misogyny and white allegiances because his candor is brilliant and despite the prominent advocacy of Biden who has considerable prestige in my memory, we deserve a bipartisan syncretism that unites the world and unifies the country away from the swerve of salacious mythos and towards a rambunctious magpiety of solidarity against the secular humanism of a defunct piety to Marxist feminism which is a crudenzy among the awakened men around the world increasingly alienated by the hackencrude of wednongue illiteracy even trumpeted by the vanguard as panacea when it is a comestible form of poison. We need visionary unity where there was once toxic divisive balkanization of exclaves of limited foresight clashing with new wave awakening to the persecution of illumination itself for not a rigid hierarchy but a flexible structure of inclusion that adjusts to cultural expectancy and modifies the traindeque that strands many in institutionalized poverty especially in Latin America and India and obviously Africa too. The stegophilists of language should herald the aubade of the chavish of redintegration over the squawk of din of squabbles of internecine redacted revisionism beleaguering our lyceums with toxic agitprop even at the highest institutions of learning who balk often at the recycled auditorium of useful thought because their venal tilt is complicit in squelching freedom of thought and our schools should open early so that zig-zag-zoom politics around feldtrounds who are eagerly outnumbered by the patrons who police thought become agentic not with outspoken treacheries but inseminations of intimation to hint at the spectral mystagogical reality we are all members of despite hurdles that beset the hemiteries of odalisques who seek inertia rather than mobilization. The ribald underminnow of transparency is a carcinogen of the rampant siege of Status Quo coarse hypocrisy for tentative flings with cadged cloyed saturnine professions of the landmines of atrocious miscarriage as I soldier on in the causes of the poor and the forlorn to become enriched by the glory that God delivers with munificence so that all might be enriched by the emanations of the true vine and in distaste of error I rebuke the armada of belittled armamentariums of the cantonment of deep-state breedbates boiling over potboiler frikmag that exists as a transcendent obscurantism flowering in decisive times to warp the contextual footprint of a life served in the service of all the oppressed people as a kind of Moses figure raised by the elite and fighting for the criminally oppressed and the ****** of mediagenic hyperbole is dissatisfied by my glowering spectacles because they dismount from the equipoise of the righteous gallop towards ecumenical solidarity at untimely punctuations of juncture superseding the flictions of frikmag dethroning my righteous valor and provident sanctanimity to prowl like predatory wolves the fathers of the casuistry of mendaciloquence to accentuate the stridor of inopportune squalor of the selachostomous regimes of teetotaler totalitarian freebooters who prevent bootstraps from manufacture as they gradgrind the world into ergonomic insufficiency while I provide a Kamacho-like galvanization to the broader world that favors the consanguinity of all animate sentience to the aboriginal vine of the universe that plays with the toyed cadge of oppositive support but lends credence to a more evolved view than the crudity of encapsulated travesties inserted with jaundice against the lyceum of freedom of thought and the celerity of headless horseman galloping in partial interregnum to crown the strobic stridor of the stiver of the steven of contarianism engineered for walloped ringleaders of the renegades of heresiarch sedition in their odalisque oaths to Pagan dieties carved from the sapwood of gullible Illuminati naivety that professes allegiance to the worst whangam ever invented Baphomet and his faked cronies of ewnastique free-for-all diminutive crags in the renown of dawning light becoming cagey struthious structuralism embedded in sclerotic wasms of the wanhope of a nullified message becoming a sacred creed to the attentive while the lilt of the otiose drawl in serpentine convolution a ribald pleonasm of circular circumlocution that provides locomotive linearity rather than leapfrogged slogmarches into the province of the territorial alignment of kinship against the partisan hollertrap and the stigmatophilia of obsessive persnickety popinjay beadledom the last stronghold of the rickety resistence to this Saturday interregnum which presides over the better part of the intelligentsia if not the common pedestrian parlance because hortatory weights cannot be described in any other way than metagnostic flickers of Yellow Submarine vandalism of a pristine living animation of the humane spirit that prizes the plight of the poor and the blarney and blench of unjust opprobrium faced by the institutionalized bailiwick of flictions of gammadion gallionic posture when in fact they register as seismic entities engraved upon my Christian conscience that strictly welcomes the emigrants to truth from whatever consecrated virtue they originate from because all are capable of the same light and the same compassion of a beatified humanity rather than the relish of deep-state castophrenia which belies its own ribald gay mockery on live TV as not a single twinge of ****** attraction overtakes me in matriotic sardanapalian effrontery of a hollow but sadly hallowed vainglory of the hierodules that bury the coffers of patriotism in a sad LGBTQ graveyard of landmines that demonstrate a complete disregard of the nuclear family and should be decried as an outcry against redefined Christianity bolted to unshakable irrefragable beliefs in the constitution of man and women wed together in one monogamous flesh with the occasional cuddle of close tithes to the ******* of friendship as the slavery of sin in Leviticus 20:13 falls to the wayside because this patriotic lewdness is a vapid fatuous derangement that is a new low for the United States attempt to inoculate China from religious accord with the broader world and should be seen as a Chinese maskirovka worthy of the heaviest disdain and I will disavow America if it continues to bandy the tripwires of Chinese boondoggles under the American banner and pretend its pretense isn’t lagging under its own bletcherous abecedarian elementary fallacy of psychobabble oblivion of dark saturnine brusque termagants of tatterdemalion cloaks of the selfsame illusion of a desperation of China to wreck the United States economy and inseminate Florida, Arizona and Texas especially with the Coronavirus to swing the election in Biden’s favor with or without US Complicity to expedite the course of a virus which sees no resurgence in any other civilized country in the world while the heroic Russians, Germans, Israelis, French, British and true American Christians banish the barristers of bad taste as an acerbic poison on the wellsprings of a flagitious flag I would kneel for in the knells of disgrace if the pompous and completely inoculated missives of Buttigieg ******* continue to roam shepherded by deep state elitism to wreck the opportune moment of religious revival for petty reasons of chryselephantine gambit and gimcrack for institutionalized poverty which my ambition is to heal completely by sacerdotal deeds and consecrated prayers in the Lord whose peace surpasses the temporal despair of senectitude and comforts the grievances of the aggrieved because Galatians 6:7 is no more true than the fatuous display of muscular idiots waving American flags for turpitude rather than flogging very perverse Gay men in the streets which might be a more fitting outcome even though I must remove the plank in my own eyes first to see the irony of the detested. The doytin is no longer misguided by the nanciful derision of the vociferous clangor of the venal Gates mafia militia wrecking ball vaccination Bezos crew in Medina which is a mettle I can’t match when you own every citizen in the world in a few square miles of nesiote territory the denizens of conquest besieging religious sanctity with profane outbursts of corruptible linchpins on the public lynch of the strepsis of periblebsis that vitiates commonwealths of supreme sputtering regimented clairvoyant superlative alabaster wealth of the isangelous protectorate of the supreme God that supervises his careworn flock into the storge against the scourge of prosodemic stigma stained in bleeding heart liberal bathed tears of pseudoautochiria of Jim Morrison glaring in the face of the triads that Killed Him in the French Connection ******* of 71’ that outnumbered his hobohemia of loyal jewish bohemians livid in the rhapsody of nurture rather than enfeebled by the unfurled destiny of the Soul Kitchen he foresaw to his own pitiable demise at probably the hands of strangulation because no autopsy was performed. Although repetitive Transparent is a real anthem for oracular mystagogical transcendence a mandatory hymn for the ryseolagnus of the poetic verve of a new wave swooning the cordial progressive of atmospheric oneness with the primordial vine and the vintners that congregate on populated soil to feed a desolate destitution of synoecy or synaesthesis in the syncretic rhapsody of the subfocal ageotropic plenilune yet saturnine lugubrious toil of those that shovel through the albatross of ewnastique recapitulation to the same tired “Its got what plants crave, it’s got electrolytes” wernaggle of the hopelessly dismal inkburch of illiteracy crawling like a Hyacinth House on a vacant graveyard turf guarding the legionaires of rapid-fire zig-zags through a serpentine curvature of the ligaments of fabricated space warped through prismatic lenses of aperspectival time aspiring for ventriloquial enamored rapture upon Earthly parallax with tapestries of refulgent cascading wandering wonder that meditates its own lucubration with careworn tutelage against the wasms of dying oleaginous swelters of redshort opportunistic vultures swooping with Raven’s claws against the odometer of viewership surpassing records in unspeakable wisdom that crowds out the crambazzle toonardical wreffelaxity of the tiresome nuisance of ornery brawn muscled into a formidable triage in vengeance for Jim Morrison’s scripted eviction from Earth either by poisoned ****** or by  Asphyxiation by the French Connection avenging RFK and the cultural revolutions of 67’ in Haight Ashbury and the widespread percolation of treacheries fathomed to the most obvious degree in showmanship that it bristled as an affront so severe that even the patronage of Paris wasn’t immune to infiltration. His threnodies will always be sung with Triumph that the hallowed day of a monumental soul eluding the darkness of purgatory into the welcoming aborning light of the noontide progeny of eternal ataraxia awaited him in the stagecraft tub of blasphemy bellowing ratcheted warnings that not even the palatine grasp of a potentially divine being was inoculated from the deep dark chasm of nefarious skullduggery for boasting so widely and openly of his professed foresight to glamorous to be hidden as the beacon of virtuosity that galvanized a generation to flout the  futtocks of a keelhauled vision of sanitized purblind mortality that the fear of death rarely crossed the mind of the greatest fearless poet of an entire epoch that we may pray that Jim Morrison feasts in Heaven atoned for his sins and is at peace with God now. The substratose congeniality of marginalia on the outskirts of pederasty in cultural miscarriage owned by hierodules boundless in their lurid debaucheries that they might be remanded for being custodians of hostage to a prolific nescience  reaffirming their dying posture in the extinction of sardanapalian coverthrow of repcrevel camorras of ladronism and dacoitage always cauponate in imbibed throes of lewd AstroTurf outrecuidance glowering at sanctity with a bereaved psychobabble divorced from the purebred empiricism of true giants of industry that are almost insuperable in their extortion that their darkness in deeds of Kobe Bryants assassination do not go unpunished at least in Los Angeles. His untimely death as with many others registered on the Richter Scale because Come Clean perverts from Kansas City wanted San Francisco to win to clean the mops of janitorial revenge of the subturbary rickety foundations of a flailing moral compass so wicked in arbitrage that no subreption undetected would flourish among capernoited vigilantes of poached titanism and illuminism scarring the vestiges of enigmatic encroachment upon untouchables daring the frights of the Living Daylights of scurrilous rebukes so scathing in their menacing depiction of negligent bromides of token sacrilege and scarred sacrifice of a scarecrow example of how the prosodemic scourge of befuddled turgid pristine transmogrified heralds scampered away with pseudoautochiria that afflicted Jimi Hendrix suspiciously as well. My support is behind the justice warriors aggrieved by the Beirut explosion because they deserve a vindictive outcome that quells the quislings of atrocity of the popinjay beadledom of the unspeakable tremors of seismotic popples of unrest warranted in Lebanon the homeland of Keanu Reeves a saint among men for his peerless grace and agraceries of the smog of myth evanescence becoming perdurable swings of the humdingers of berated jaundice becoming the prerogative of the revenge of a city leveled to the ground by suspicious skullduggery and I am surprised they lay dormant for this long in their protracted grievance over the ghoulish frights of one of the most unheralded major events in recent memory. We need to highlight the plight of Lebanon so that world leaders are frightened even of intimidated people tranquilized by terror rather than enlivened by the propriety of redacted rejoinders that serve the ulterior mission of a Titanic bravery that never sinks beneath the sumptuary treacle of grombang grambazzle and supercherie of the supercalendar of poignant repined repose derailing an emolument to ecumenical solidarity. Lets highlight Lebanon as an inexcusable trespass worthy of some mighty reckoning if not a riveted war but at the very least a devastated twinge of outrage.

Let out my ego and sense of order this comes from beyond this comes from the me between me if I listen I may hear it speaking, it's sleeping but talking and rocking, not still, and perhaps it awakens, perhaps it will open its eye but we mustn't depend on the idea that once he has opened his eye the whole dream of the world will just fade like my dream tomorrow morning which I already know I'll forget, like specific angles and perspectives of specific places in space and time that have slipped away but once in a while break through to consciousness
Like the sliding breakaway walls of Timber Drive elementary school
Or the rippling pond into which I fell and the old smile and laugh of my flesh and blood rescued me and held my body afloat in the air for a moment; and once I was the proud owner of a wind powered hovercraft, another invention spilling out onto the table of attention like the actual pig intestines the popular girl's parents used in her science fair project, the one that dragged on until the last monkey refusing to be locked up with the windows 98s in the archaic computer lab was tranquilized and convulsed on the gym/cafeteria floor in front of the PTA, who'd peed blood all down the front of their sweatpants; he was firing wildly hoping to commit suicide by zookeeper
Not knowing that humanitarian laws would prevent him from achieving his bliss, for the monkey knew as the Gnostics did that to bring a child into this black iron prison is a sin.
Did the Jonestown Kool-aid free them from the prison? Do they now walk among gods within the kingdom of the heavenly spirit? None shall know until the 13 crystal skulls are re-assembled and total gnosis emanates to the people in globe-spanning shockwaves.

On chain they did put me,
******* to the burglary protector,
handcuffed and battered.
Tortured and meant to be broken.
Poisoned but survived.
Marked for assassination,
and shot twice,
bullets flying around,
resilient and unflinching,
was ready to confront them.
Dead or alive I must choose one.
Must find a way out of this mess,
to escape was on my mind,
but how do I get out of here without
jeopardizing the lives of my family.
Courage summoned I revert to plan B,
the art of fighting without fighting.
Intelligence and wisdom must come into play.
Must outwit them to survive.
Cunning and craftiness must be used,
the uncanny ways of the spirit is amazing.
Become like water,
be flexible,
Yielding but still immovable.
Stealth in action but remain like the firefly.
Understanding their intent
and misdirected anger,
their aggression towards me was contained.
Tranquilized and overpowered,
their capture became imminent for
i am more than a conquerer,
for the greater one lives in me.
Today I stand here to testify of that victory against
the intruders and assassins with a grateful heart.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.

caveat! —bursting out as the fuse fetters away
wafting t'ward oil spills, tranquilized guns
with pace maker minds
and time to ****

sickle celled, graving shores
plead to crawl underground
through cascading bile and sedatives
that sift through these negatives
like bangled thieves
who crawl on broken knees
and lie idle under haunted bridges.

bouldered bones intertwine
or veins cut along a dotted line
caveat! cries the sayer's sooth,
for he says it scours and devours—
the slinking nightmare sleuth.

the tar is interrupted in carved equinoxes
soak in the crippled toxins
as the air becomes as thick as theophany
and tharm like grease in blood that take me in,
through ash and mud and
all the spider webs caving in
like delicate gorges forges beneath
nightmare sleuth reaching zenith

caveat, silhouettes
stretched out like oil in water
and this silicon tomb can hold me no longer
for i must break out before i am a goner
because it's a mistake that i'll never shake
your face turns opaque
and there was nothing in your eyes
but dripping flesh

wring out all your words for me
your jeers and your juries
but go cling to your crutch
your kings and your qualms
and the church that burns
in its hallow vacancy

for none can resist the urge
that thieves its delinquents from catatonic catacombs
and quagmire junctions
where the swamp will **** you in
and festering sweat sticks like guilt to your skin
and hell is a nightclub where every loss is a life
and heaven's a daydream with your neck to the knife
it needs no rhyme or reason
and every slip of your broken lip
just lose your grip and give in to the treason
would you rather burn at the stake
than suffer your cement heart break
with no reason or rhyme
it's just the weight of the season

backdrop collapse
railroads unfolding
and like a cell storm the train
is coming your way

and slinks away like a nightmare sleuth
it just takes one swipe of the claw
or one bite of the tooth
and it drags you in
feel the sidewalk sleeping
and the blinking lights creeping
above the overpass
and the cold wind reeling--
it'll be your last.

Orator,
fiction-teller,
great commander in chief;
So noble your quest of
Re-election,
Presenting pretty political poetry
But we don’t mind
Lie to me
As you lead me
Oh, noble politician,
Credibility only expected in consumer ability
Priorities

Great Chess Player
Moving pawns, perpetual playing
Limitless supply of sacrifices
Die for your country,  he says,
That’s patriotism!

The most patriotic of them all
I shall,
hold down the fort
On my,
Noble quest of forming fictitious fantasies
American supremacy, idiocracy
Stand beside her, and guide her, through the night till she reaches he target on sight

Responsibility? Don’t be silly
Scapegoat culture is the reality
Get in line for the American Dream,
That’s it, fall in line,
On the horizon
Ill wait, I’ve got Verizon
Do you hear me now?

Hook me in, turn me off, drug me up and let me down
I’m numb anyway

Its all in the promotion
Mass manipulation, solicitation
Don’t worry we can fix you, quick fix, step right up
Too fat? Too fast? Too slow”
Throw these back – now your on a right track

Tune in-turn off- tranquilized
Text, tweet, technology
Whatever you do
Just
Don’t
     Think   (rise for the pledge)

You always burn me
I never even turned the heat up once
But you kept burning me
Why do you burn me so much?
I never wanted to be the victim of this
I never instigated an Agni Kai match between anyone
But your flames still ignite my soul
Not in the other ways I've experienced
But this is far from the abnormal
Every day i think about why they burn me
I'm never going to stop
Being who i am
For something so meager in statements
I will not be punctual for your cut downs
I will only be punctual for others who deserve it and for myself
This is the next trimester and i'm giving birth to my new breath of fresh air
Go ahead and try to rampage my cities, but you will be sequestered and tranquilized
Sent back into the ocean
Where you belong

She serves, serves as. Her body-is-home-is-nation.
She does not dwell, she is dwelling.
She keeps the lights on. She fluffs the pillows.
With child, eternal. She is so very...blessed.

She is the pilot light and the pile of ash.
Savior, safegaurd, scapegoat.
She is flambéed, micro-waved,
she is pressure cooked in social sweat,
and then told that she looks “radiant.”

Idolized, pasteurized, tranquilized,
she is bottled, sealed and brought
beaming to your doorstep each morning
for a reasonable monthly fee.

Her hearth fuels all creation, destruction,
and consumption followed by decaf coffee
and polite chatter in the living room.
She is so excited to welcome you into her...home.

She is incontinent. Incontinuous.
A swollen, slacken gesture towards a self.  
She is wet clay laid again on wheel,
awaiting to welcome the coming
divine, un-declinable gift from god.

A fist to the gut, from beneath.

Thy effigy was so charming
It can grips a heart
Thy face of youthfulness
It can tranquilized a war

Many roses envied thee
Their complaints was loudly burst
That blessed was unjust
That you owned a beauty, to them ugliness

Thy prettiness a weapon
Can  slave a kingdom
But it feared someone
The monstrous beast - the time

Thy beauty was rotten
The one that allured thousand kings
Thy effulgence doom
A star that used to be dream...


written: July 31, 2001 at 7:00 pm

Mysterious Aries

I'm sure the obscurities of the lenses clouding my vision
Are nothing more than a hologram of the world I never knew
But always thought existed in the window panes of my brain

The outside world my thoughts are too afraid to venture
For the warmth in the home of my realistic perception
Is the safe haven of who I am and what I know
And going outside my homestead into the dark forest of the things
That are undiscovered to my left but known all too well by my right  
Are what excels my lenses to constantly change when the room is the same tint of light

Transitions from one thing to the next don't necessarily need to have a change one can see
I feel the forest calling me as if I'm some bewitched prophecy
But the foreboding dank blackness that thickens my view
Has always stopped me from entering into the unknown of my own self

These hazy retractions of light may cast dark shadows
However right now my mind is a whirlwind of calamities that can only be tranquilized
By venturing into the unknown darkness inside of me

This time these obscured lenses draped over my glass orbs
Create a tint similar to what is within the forest
My transitions are nonexistent but all the more in constant motion behind closed curtains

So my first steps out of my safe haven are slow
The door creaks like an old mans rusted weathered body  
And I feel the pang of hysteria hit me as the outside air tests out my foreign skin

When I enter the blackened forest I begin running into what I have never known to my left but know so well in my right
The nightmare-conjuring mysteries of this realm are ready to be battled.

A cold autumns night.
Trains and coyotes whine in the midst of dead silence.
Thoughts strewn about like leaves on the front lawn,
Dead and soon to be weathered away into thin air,

Happy thoughts weathered away in the wind,
gone with the breeze goes the last shred of sanity I had left.
Back to bullying and prejudice,
where the word “gay” gets slung around to anyone who likes to dress different.
Who does the school play instead of the football team,
who didn’t get the nerves to talk to the girl he likes because he knew she wont even listen,
but he’s tranquilized by her poison and that poison is the look she gave him in class today.

But all he hopes for is someone to give a **** about him.
For someone who will actually be there and care about him.
Life savers surround people with compassion and care,
but the preserver is just hung up to dry when his eyes are wet from dragging others out of the sea.

a boy whose never had a good thing to say about his own skin but a million things to say about anyone else’s.
He gets lost sometimes too and manages to find his way home,
like a blind puppy in the woods,
scared and alone in a scary dark world,
he walks and walks until he’s not bumping into trees any more and he feels the soft grass underneath his feet.
Only to find out he is walking into a trap dug by his own thoughts that capture him and drag him underneath the soil,
with the reaper dumping shovel load by shovel load of sand on top of him saying “Don’t worry, you’re home now”.

He cries with the trains and the coyotes on the cold autumn night.
Alone in the woods by himself with nothing but his thoughts,
a weapon of mass destruction to his own mind, and he doesn’t even know it.

Vanity stole me
Vanity corrupted me
Vanity tranquilized me
Vanity disrupted me

These lines have me thinking wrong thoughts, thoughts that are of uncanny nature and vain thoughts of selfishness and unhealthy erotica.
Vanity took all the sanity away from the head, and left me alone, not even therapy can stabilize me, I rebuild my soul.
I'm out of my mind, and I'm yellin' out, vanity
...
Like a drug itself, these lines are like decaf and vanity is my addictive curse.
Addiction not to the drug, but to the feeling of such an intense self love, it eats you up inside, you take the substance to escape the sinful feeling.
Logic, and proportion, all dead.
Losing myself,
Get out of my head.
Get out of my thoughts.

It         is in, the how,
not the why, the where,
or, the when,
no, no, it

Is         the how,
that provisions and provides
all the answers
that any lover needs, for

In         the how, one revels,
but also,                      
unbeknownst, unwillingly, reveals
what one's heart wishes to secret, and conceals
and with

The       single stroke
of a single finger,
lightly across thy cheek,
raising sky colors upon
thy skin's patina and,

How    commences the matina,
with petals of white cloud roses,
blushing anew in your cheeks,
loveliest of failed cover ups,
laughing, I airbrush your
almost, invisible tears away,
residue of melodramas of troubled sleep,
stilled and stolen, mine,
to pacify, keep,
tranquilized in my breast

It,        Is In, The How,
What,  You Are Thinking.

What   vincible arrogance
humans possess when we pray,
we hope, knowing that we are infidels,
hoping to mislead
the eyes that glance upon us

You     give up the shadows painted for me when
filtered beams, rays of
a, and of...kind,
lance shield of densest lead,
lain upon the chest to cloak
the tremors of volcanic hearts,
the eyes of hurricane thoughts,
containers of need that

Are     so full of oh so
many questions, yet,
singularly resolved,
with the answer of
a single stroke,
of a single finger,
lightly across thy cheek,
knowingly full well you are

Thinking  there is no exit,
no right of way to negate
the sum of what we let to ail us,
O disbeliever, how simple be,
for all, all of

It,        Is In, The How,
What,  You Are Thinking,

I soften and modulate,
your conflicted complexion,
with the answer of
a single stroke,
of a single finger,
lightly across thy cheek,
all that is mine,
to encapsulate,
recharge, refill thy vessel
with Bocelli tones of
passioned, gloried harmony

Worry not if my eyesight dims,
be unconcerned if
my hearing, my voices
wearies and weakens,
for all the answers
we shall ever need
remain, contained in  
a single stroke,
of a single finger,
lightly across thy cheek,
and
this is how I know now,
and forever more,
what you are thinking

As long as skin is the coverlet
o'er the bell jar of mind n' heart,
as long oxygen defies gravity,
I will know how,
unveil, open secret chambers,
now and forever more,
what you are thinking

Because if you study those
Decrepit maps curled up in the
corners of antique stores and
the menus of sleepy little diners
Where retired navy men gather to drink coffee
Murky as the water they worked on
For their entire uncertain lives
You would be studying
what used to be Slaughter County
Where it remains tranquilized
By narcotic gray skies
Next to islands that awkwardly
break off from the mainland
Creating channels
Where anxiety is drained
Into the population of
the suicidal indigenous

you can't change them
if you tranquilized them
you could paint them
But it would just flake off
However people aren't leopards
they can change
sometimes
even for the better.

the fair fleeced lamb lay tranquilized
on the frigid, unforgiving barn floor.

crimeless and chaste, his crude caress penalized
her until she desired to live no more.

100b in the lobby made them hungry
as they imagined him bound like a burrito
and tranquilized so they snacked
on jawbreakers while ******* their problems
into eachother's
face

Dewy days lit by darkness
Died away in flames of sunset.

Clouded heart sailed across the wreck.
Tears ruptured adorned the deck.

Shimmering rays of certitude
Vanished in broad chested casket.

Tranquilized moonlit night
After stormy breeze sighed.

Path deluge in memories of conceit
Still the heart emanated from muddled plight.

Vineyard stealthily took away a few golden rays
Grapes stood blushing on the vine of mays.

Canopy of vine fabricated life
In a crystalline glass brighten up the path!

© 2016 Geetha Jayakumar. All rights reserved

If you want to walk,
Run.
If you want to swim,
Dive.
If you want to breath,
Gasp.
If you like,
Love.
If you hate,
Revile.
If you want to leave,
Walk out the door.
If you want to,
Do.

This life is full of chances,
and unless you grab them by the collar,
you gain nothing.
Focus on the possible, not the impossible.
Take a life lesson from physics,
even the improbable,
have a possibilty.

Do not allow yourself to be stifled,
London said, “The function of man is to live, not exist”.
Everything gives an opportunity to learn,
so take it all in.

Look for the moments,
cherish them when they arrive,
and cling to them with such ferocity,
you are worried you left grooves in the stone.
Hopefully, you did.

Leave your mark,
others will leave theirs.

No one ever succeeded without first trying.
So don’t say no,
or accept no,
because it and its followers,
aren’t worth your time.

Unlike the pickers in the orchards,
forsaking the twisted apples,
take every opportunity given to you.
You will be one of the privileged few,
to know the sweetness of the twisted apples.

Do not become complacent,
and do not seek sedation,
lest you be tranquilized,
into a grand mediocre existence.

We don’t have much time,
Why waste a single fleeting moment of it?

When you become contented,
Run away.
Get as far away as you can,
And embrace the discomfort.

Life is now,
not then,
not later,
but now.
Live it.

With these lines, pages fill
though never what I really mean to say.
What was it that caught you by surprise?

Left standing alone on a fault,
escaping silence with intervals of fear.
Why do feelings go unfelt? Who is not in debt from interest?

Solemn, vacant, paradise deserted?
Empty conversation is what we have.
Confronting absolution,
chased the shadow from the door-
allowing space for  child's life to pass without wanting to know more.
Enchanting tales insist the mind be tranquilized.
Preventing instinctive reactions-
Focus,
Wait, smoke in my eye

I am afraid to love has I have been broken too many times before
Like the sun I have lost its core
Like the rain my tears pour
I am afraid to love
I fear to make a step of faith and walk through loves door
There’s a linger of a permanent soar

I am afraid to love has I have been broken too many times before
I have had my wings patched up
My eyes sowed in and my heart tranquilized with pain and regret
I have been in this terrible nightmare like an induced coma
That I am unable to be awaken from

I am too afraid to love
To give love another shot
A shot that might paralyze my soul and stop my heart
Destroy my very existence
Struck me dumb or mute with fear

Fear to love and be loved
I am afraid to love has I have been broken too many times before
And it hurts me right down to the core
And my heart pains me once more
And like a fallen bird I fail to soar
Fail to find Paradise Island
I am in the wilderness hoping to be rescued
As I am afraid to love
My Dear.

All Rights Reserved.
Christena Antonia Valaire Williams

why try anymore
why stand from the floor
why speak over a roar
why commence action
why repeat interaction
why sentence construct
when I'm interrupted
why decide when time
keeps on--why contemplate
why this apathy
     despond
melancholy
why this grim mask
life moves so fast
brain's slowing down
mouth stops speaking
thoughts flicker away
no memories today
feeling sedated
tranquilized
catatonic
mute

Thump- thump thump- thump
Thump- thump thump- thump
Heart beating so hard
I check to see if it is leaving a print
Sweat pouring down mii face
Hands shaking with fear
I pray to myself hoping that somehow
This all works out in mii favor
......
I pick up the gun
And wait for my turn
The room is so quiet
I can hear his eyelashes hit his face
The face that's covered with a slightly confident smirk
The face that's smiling at my fear
The fear that's evident throughout my entire frame
......
He holds his gun up
Aiming directly at my chest
Fear has engulfed me as I sit ****** with fear
...click
.......
Nothing...
There was no bullet
I'm still here
Now it's my turn
I take a deep breath
Hoping that neither one of us had to die but knowing that one of us will be leaving this world tonight
...click
Nothing
No bullet in the chamber
He's still here
He survived
....
Our chances are slimmer now
Only five chambers left
One of them holds our fate
One of them...
....
It's his turn again
Snickering with a glare in his eye
he aims the gun at my head
Is this the end of me
Am I about to die
No time to think
...click
.....
Nothing
No bullet in the chamber
Once again I dodged the grasp
The grasp of deaths cold hands
Once again I survived
Once again....
......
The chances now are slimmer than before
Only four chambers left
One holds the bullet
One holds our fate
One holds....
.......
Mii turn has come once again
Once again I have the power
Once again I can take his life
....
I aim
Slowly I curl my finger around the trigger
I pull, and...
......
Nothing
No bullet in the chamber
He's still here
He survived once again
Once again my life is in his hands
....
He aims at my head
My life flashes before my eyes
Flashes at the speed of light
I see my childhood
My teenage years
My...
...click
......
Nothing
No bullet in the chamber
Chance of survival
I'm still here
....
Three down and three to go
I wait anxiously
Its my turn again
I pick up the gun
And I aim it at his chest
I pull the trigger and...
....
Nothing
No bullet in the chamber
Nothing
No smiles, no sweat,
Only anxiety  and fear
....
He picks his gun up
With two chambers left
I see the smirk on his face
I know that this just may be my end
......
He aims
He curls his finger around the trigger
He blows me a kiss
And pulls....
.....
Aaaahhh!!!
The pain searing through my body
Like fire, burning my insides
Its as if I've been tranquilized
The image before my eyes
Fades slowly and I know
I've been hit
......
I grab the bleeding patch
The blood seeping threw my shirt
I hold on as firmly as I can
Slowly I lose my balance
The gun clanking
Falling to the ground..
......
I see you walking away and I can't let you go
I reach out to the gun
Grab it
Call his name
And pull the trigger
Now on my last breath...
......
Seeing him fall
Head thudding against the floor
I sigh and fall back with my last thought being
What a bad game of Russian Roulette

I want to feel the air you breathe,
No touch of romance,
But your eyes I want to see.

I want to feel the way your heart beats,
Just to be content,
With the words your voice speak.

I want my face to be lit,
Even threw our negativity,
So that my soul can preach.

I want you to be able,
To ignite my heart on fire,
So that it can blaze through the night.

See your eyes twinkle,
As a glass for the stars
at midnight.

Your aura will be distinct,
If we’re in a crowd of millions,
As if I’m tranquilized to defeat.

Connection to the soul,
Will bring us to the ground,
As time unwinds.

So to love will be forever,
Until you disappear,
So I’m waiting for you love,
To **** reappear.

© Robyn Neymour

Midnight Song

Somber is the moonlit sky
along the river's shore,
peaceful as a new born's sigh
creatures scurry the forest floor,
A fallen leaf drifts downward
caressing the water's surface,
all tethered in perfect symmetry
each with their own special purpose.
As crickets sang their midnight
song I sat silently in awe,
tranquilized by nature's calm
mesmerized by what I saw.

Written By Kathy J Parenteau
Copyright © 2002

Holding *** when the muscle requires some effort directs attention to the lower body away from the eyes and the head area which is the normal place of reflection.
It makes me think of releasing it and of the bathroom and toilet to do so, as if I was constructing a plan to carry out.
The other muscles used to concentrate can be relaxed as the new concentration is on the bladder area.
Yet this pulls the attention to the seat if seated, like placing attention on the foundation of the meditation posture.
The focus spreads to the thighs and solar plexus.
Finally to the back of the head, but with pressure that will not allow anything to replace it.
The management mind states next that the task at hand is more pressing than bladder release.
And I remember all the times I've had to hold my *** and the places and situations that precipitated them.
I start to tell myself that I'm suffering needlessly as if I was being bullied by my situation.
Thus the parts of the body actually take the center of the personality over other parts of the body.
The managerial aspect will offer motherly comfort to the childlike personality of holding ***.
I start to go into wishful dream mentality just like holding *** while in the early hours of the morning trying to still sleep.
And the attention is tranquilized back to reflection with the hold tucked away in the background of the mind, reflection aspect now being more parental in nature.
What is transcendence? is sort of a moronic question, and I notice my words start to be more bullyish.
This question is rather asking is there a particle of transcendence?
No, it is a function of frequencies of the body.
Consciousness can be the essential aspect of transcending, but no more than consciousness is the essential of concentration.
Tranquility and insight, just as taught, happens, without attention on tranquility, and without tranquility within attention.

Vipers vipe another's life
by the flavor of their bites.

Constrictors construct another's death
by stacking slim breath upon breath until no more is left.

Adders addle able bodies into meal,
and Rattlers crackle should you come too near,
but not in here.

Boomslangs sling their back jaws into prey, to chew the venom in.
Black mambas leap even at thawed white mice.  

This is where a permanent tranquilized matinee meets a life sentence,
all year long and every year hence.

Fang glands churn and produce venom to no productive use.
Serpent jaws pitch surge and yaw to locate the same frozen rabbit as yesterweek and the procession of all the weeks which preceded.

Though kneeless, to me they seem to be kneeling,
praying for prey to cross their path.

I make my way past the Coral Snake, Anaconda, Python and Asp, all lax, medicated or meditating on this wilderness where their hisses are merely reminiscent gasps.

Through the anesthetized malaise, we observe the faces of a most ancestral and mammalian fear, and they can gaze back at us, but rarely do, reduced as they are to being expensive jewels, on display behind the fingerprint smudged windows in the Snake House.

I always say it: the eclipse is only about who occults whom
How does it become my opinion, a tonal bane, an as if
I could have stopped the collusion of the planets
Or I could colour the shadows green or crimson, if you wish,
But I do not control the cosmic moods; I don't even know when to say hello
I'm not clumsy, I have avoided death, and I have lived in the lap
Of uncontrolled waves, sometimes they die before I step forward
Sometimes after I try to spell her name in a language that I have learned
This was when my tongue curled as a poppy pod seeking drops of dew
When the moments for another journey arrived on the unwilling rickety bus
Early in the morning before the swaying bells lost their regularity
Before life could decide to sleep or fold the hands in a prayer
But that was only my imagination; the suggestions were
In the buzzing bees, or in the eyes that never let the moon out of sight
Shapes change in water, and also in the sky, depending on where
You look first. The dust on the solitary road to my village
Was deciding how we live our lives. It was a dictate, the only, opinion
That mattered. No matter how much importance I gave to my words.
Sometimes, I thought the strewn pearls were from a stanza of a poem
I hoped to write but got preoccupied by your eyes, living your dreams
I can't even tell you how beautiful they were because you may ask again
And I will be clobbered by my memories of what I may have said.
On an unintended day, you asked me the names of all the flowers I liked
I could tell you none because there were too many shades on your lips
I always got lost on straight roads, on the same bus that stopped only once
I forgot if this is where I wanted to be, where I wished to go remains buried
Too deep in the mind, lost its moorings because the way you had once looked at me
I remember you had once held my hand and said, there is nothing wrong in living
Blind, because we are all lost in our own ways, but having said that
You got distracted. I did not know that a cloud hold more than tears  
You let the evening lead you away, soothing it was. The wine was slow but sure
I watched the sunset without glimmers from any ghost, I had nothing to offer
My words sank into the sea, and swam like fishes over the reef
Before they too were orphans looking at the windmills on tranquilized waters  
I walked the shore clutching my thoughts like condiments from the east
Who possesses or profits by a long voyage through the inclement seasons?  
Spring could be one of them; as you smile away your absence
I clutch a bundle of hay, looking for some twigs, for the last winter day
The rain douses all fire fuelled by breathing meant only for life as I had
Sorrow is not about being sad, it is the infinity between us, a sedgy way

I am still alive
and that is all I know
about life and the
pursuit of living.
There is no meaning;
afterall.
We are all floating
into space.
I am in one of these
lavender fields
scratching my itches.
I would love to be
tranquilized, for eternity
if not then I do not want
eternity.
The hardest element I have
conquered in life is that
I have always been
fighting the living scrabble
out of myself each minute
to figure out the
ground.
And the dust I was made of- stardust.
The imperialistic house
should be burned
but I would rather
stay here
coated in substances.
More harm, less feel.
Hell is watching the people
you love; suffer.

In the park, I’d been all day
Reading all my time away
On a park bench did I sit
Until the sky became twilit

As light for reading began to wane
I heard the tapping of a cane.
And looking up, to find that sound
‘T was an old man which my eyes found

Bent of stature, with shuffling gait
And cane helping support his weight
He moved toward me in twilight glow
The beard he donned was white as snow

His hooded cloak there in place
Hid from view his bearded face
But … he moved on steadily
And closer then he came to me.

My gaze shifted to my book
As his passage overtook
My presence and my train of thought
On that park bench I had sought.

Then, unexpectedly,
I found the man right next to me
The hooded shroud was still in place
Preventing me to see his face.

Without a word the man sat down
And to my face that brought a frown
This bench I wanted not to share!
Yet he sat down without a care.

In protest was I about to speak
When he lifted his hand antique
And then in voice commanding low
“I’ve something you should know”.

By his voice was I hypnotized
My entire being was tranquilized
I stared at antique hands so pale
Then began the old man’s tale:

“You’ll find a house not far from here
Filled with loathing, filled with fear
And you might wonder how I know
My presence here makes it so”.

“The house, it sits on Wilsons’ Hill
All abandoned, cold and still,
Trees stay barren, grass won’t grow
And constantly do ill winds blow.”

“Birds won’t fly, dogs won’t walk
Stray cats don’t even stalk
Around or near that House of Hate …
Listen now … it’s getting late!”

“From deep within that house at night
Emits an eerie, glowing light
Oh, that light … I know it well,
It’s emitted - straight from Hell!”

“Once a man of youth was I
Having aspirations to the sky,
And senses of immortality
And those of curiosity.”

“‘Twas one summer long ago
On a dare I was to go
Walk inside that House of Hate
Then return to re-instate,”

“My belief and then decree
The house contained but normalcy.
I took the dare - I walked inside,
And since then … I there abide.”

“Now, ’tis only once a year
That I’m allowed to quickly veer
Outside it’s walls, and rusted gate
And find someone to share my fate”

“To embrace the horror I’ve endured
To expand the evil I’ve assured
To return with me and be my mate
And share the Evil House of Hate.”

The old man then turned his head,
And as I looked, with growing dread,
His hooded shroud moved in place …
At last I saw his bearded face.

Within two hollows dark as night
His eyes were embers burning bright
And just before he cast his spell
In those embers I saw Hell !

Reaching forth his ancient hand
Whose touch would be my deadly brand
I jumped back, as I screamed
I was quick, but slow it seemed.

I grabbed the cane, swinging hard
And caught the man quite off guard
I heard the thud, and filled with fear
For his status was now unclear

But … for all the things I feared
I found the man had … disappeared.
No shoes, no cloak … it was plain
Left only was his walking cane.

Many years of time have passed
And I can tell you now at last
‘T was the cane that held my fate:
I live now, in the House of Hate.

And now, too, I will stride
Through that park and take a ride
On a soul of someone there
And to you, dear reader, I say … PREPARE!

1 Method:

Witness nothing but the body
    hurtling at best, if not dilapidated.

Cusped in space, never held.
Behead the music,

    if not the conductor.

It will happen when everything has
  expired in the threshing.

Wring me pure, make me delicate,
  chain me in the wrongness.

    Embody this figurine pierce it with stem
  break it gossamer as petals imperiled ad infinitum
       sleek as a metaphor rising from rinsed perfume.

2 Chance Operation:

  Say when she caresses / this mired  setting:
  it is   of  preparation.

  Seize this mean when preparatory.

 Turn you as inside-out cleared from veiling.
  In a vitrine you wish to be freed from,
  examined, never granted meaning;

  Mundane the discovery.
  A throb of fever gone from tepid bath
  walking into space, abled.        

  Acute blunder is study, wash me with theory.
  Sullen is the word for it, entitled to acute error.

  Say when    it  ceases,
   tranquilized. Never waking up, fastens to

3 Dreamwork:

  Always still is the heart.
  I envy the water midstream. Fingers partition
 
   when infiltration is sure of. A conscious removal
   merits the continual of lobotomies.

  Augur this dim presence, make it raw again
      infallibly, make it my body. Forge my skin out of
   and  listen to  it. Feel the drone   of  this machine

   making space less tolerable. This begins
      an end, but of what pursuit is this here

   always  a  vision Blinded  by   definition
         away    from   here?