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he hooligans feet




you see the hooligans are trapping me down and down, making me feel, i am too shy

to be like anyone cool, and i don’t want this to happen, the reality is, my feet have fungus

but it could be the hooligans trapping me, making me believe that i8 will never be a family person

ever again, and another thing too, the fungus is building up on my feet, here is a song

the hooligans have trapped my feet hooray hooray

yeah they have trapped my feet hooray hooray

you see the hooligans have trapped me down, like i have been ******* by a terrorist, yeah

and i feel like i am hooligan forever and forever amen, oh lord

you see the hooligan is me back then, the me who wanted to destroy the world

by taking each boy away, so they couldn’t find a girl, my lord

you see i said ha ha ha, you oldies are going down

you see i am a mean dude, who needs to break away

and this hooligan stays in my body till i am too old for ***

yeah, the hooligans will hassle me, like my old pal rex

you see, how this hooligan will hassle me, by ripping the shyness out of me

i want the hooligan out of my body, but it’s so fucken hard

i want it out i want it out, but really i am too filthy yeah

i am hearing blackboards ghost my mate, ya see my previous life who was beheaded

and i remember being killed by a strange man named fred

well, him, he was crazy, but so am i

i hate everyone saying i am CRAZY, it drives me nuts

i hear these voices, saying come to the other side

and be my friend, yeah mate yeah, this would be the coolest thing

just like me, the coolest thing

and the hooligans have his legs tied and his arms tied

and every time he walks, his feet will be planted on the floor

like he has been trapped forever and ever amen

you see i was trying to be a hooligan to show my family that they are so shy

you see, keeping my legs planted on the floor, is to say, i am a cool kid

and i was protecting myself from the bad spirits

ya see if i tied myself up, or pushed my feet to the ground

i can tease my family forever

but this could turn nasty as some actual hooligans rob me, by saying your not a hooligan, mate

in a really angry voice, and i don’t want to rob banks or steal cars, no that ain’t for me

please don’t make me rob banks, i hate that kind of life

cause i close my eyes, and draw back the curtain to see for certain a budweiser beer

and all young people got drunk with me, yeah, how about you take your beer

and get the **** right out of here

you see i don’t know for sure if my feet are itchy, because i feel my hooligan coming back to me

or is it just, the fact that i am too nice for the real world, and the hooligans keep me in, young dude heaven, to protect me

with a clash of drums, a flash of light, my itchy feet became hooligan feet

i was floating off to darkness, please leave me alone

and i saw my dad, drinking a methane smoothie, that i left there for him to tip all over me

hey baby ooh yeah hey, i want to know if this hooligan will kidnap simon

hey baby ooh yeah hey i want to know if this hooligan will kidnap simon

you see brian allan is a family person, who doesn’t wanna rob banks cause they are bad

i know they are poor, and i know they are having heaps of problems, but hey baby ooh yeah, hey

i want to know if the hooligan will kidnap simon

you see people are treating me like a hooligan, i don’t want to be a hooligan

i am a family person, who has a lot of fun, yeah

why don’t these so called families leave me alone

you see, they are treating me like a hooligan, all because i was shyer than the so called teasing families

i am a family person, more so than them, i hate the hooligans trying to trap me under the families

so they can ask me to rob banks, I DON’T WANT TO ROB BANKS, I HATE EVERYONE TEASING ME

I AM NOT A HOOLIGAN, REALLY, I AM A FAMILY PERSON, WHO HAS, itchy hooligan feet

BECAUSE I MADE A MISTAKE IN LIFE
nabila s Jul 2018
afraid of having you wholefully
for a fear of losing you pieces by pieces, slowly
from trapping you inside of me 24/7
to letting you go entirely
by saying i love you each and every single night
doesn't mean i want to be yours
i just wanted to feel, be loved, by loving
in case i don't get any of you
either because you're not used to me
or you choose not to
it doesn't matter
cause every time
my eyes scream 'you look beautiful' in every light i met you
my heart runs a marathon for the hope of welcoming yours into mine
even my nose sense a tragic yet desiring story of one who fell so deep
one became so in love
and for each time you smile, not for me, for who, but the world,
my existence has been blessed for letting you be one of thousands i've seen
one of hundreds i know
one of few i befriend
one of one i fell for

and when the time comes,
i know my invitation never really went away
still, didn't give up yet.
ryn Nov 2015
.
•atop the mast billows
my wind-tossed rag•grinning skull embla-
zoned proud•the starkness of black upon my flag
•piercing the encroaching sea mist and shroud•her-
ald the sight of the jolly roger • instilling trepidation
in all who sail through my turf • fuelled by the thirst
to pillage and plunder•others before, have sunk into
graves beneath the surf•my salt encrusted timber
creaks                   a frightening low                growl•
my hull                       would pum-                     mel thro-
ugh the opposing waves•    my sails bloat full trapping
winds that howl•my       deck bears the screams
of a thousan-            d slaves•know
me, seafarers... i am no legend but
truth•avast! seafarers, i am the tale
that looms•believe me, seafarers for i
am ca-        pable         of all         things



•••                                                 ­        •••
  uncouth                                                 •fear me,
seafarers for                                            i am your
doom•you could                                 sail the seas with
the world's most                    skillful of crew•
you cannot deny the
inevitable
heavy hand of fate•be-
cause once my vessel comes
within view                             •you would
know for certain                                that it's already
•••••••                                       •••••••
•••••                                               •••••

*too late•
Concrete Poem 17 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
.
Sam Hamilton Jan 2014
I saw the smooth hands of children grow calloused,
sanded by the empty hopes
that the cold has whittled down and sharpened into crucifixion nails.  
Dragging their feet through broken glass and street waste, one shoe one sock,
I thought they were just urban children, or the ones
in malaria countries. But I see them stagger now, older, defeated
baring their bodies and chewing on their brains, teaching the little ones
how to polish shoes and hide in alleys that smell like **** and assault.
That one looks like me, his guardian about my size, so I pull my coat closer.
I recognize him from school in the smell of unwashed hair and the gurgle of
A self-digesting gut, nothing to soak up the acid that burns his throat.

I watched the world ******* them into hunched shoulders and boney legs
that have forgotten how to hug and run, trapping them in a constant state of shuffling
to the music of moans and cries for help. They come together in an urchin clan underneath bridges and on the exit ramps of highways.
Prophets of the future clutching at signs about war and veterans, the bad economy and the children they can’t feed.
Ten dollars to the one with the mut. Offer him a smoke.

Politicians act like clean-up crews, counting them like statistics;
This one is gone, the one on Brown street died,
We got rid of the one looking for cans in the student neighborhood.

Charity elevates them into a an opportunity—
A little money to the unfortunate is like bleach for your soul. Just enough
to get the smell of affair out of your hair, or to clean up the poison in your veins.
God helps the outcasts; five dollars ought to do it.

I shudder at our similarities. Brown hair, brown eyes, smart.
His sign ignores no rules of grammar and deserve credit for its precise calligraphy,
The dog at his side is ***** and worn like the stuffed toy
I covet from the nights in my crib—the same. He is a victim of people, I am a victim of people
Both someone’s child, both like dogs.
I watch as he turns into a younger man, and then an old man, and then a woman,
A child with no shoes and crucified hands, the boy in my class with eyes that devour.

I walk home, wondering what kind of charity will save me from myself.
And that is the problem.
karin naude Oct 2013
street cred makes a boy a man
able to take care of business declares manhood
then why are they actin fools around women
playen, traden and, braken hearts
forgetting that is someones daughter, sister, mother, etc
women give birth to men and are trampled on by men
humiliated, disrespected, disregarded, mistreated, abused and, neglected
all with a smile and honey coated words
sweat melting int he mouth bitter swallowing
disturbing to the stomach, difficult to ***** out
trapping women desperate for safety
proudly declaring: "i am man"
sealed with appalling behaviour
this is how i see the generation, from which i have to choose my mate from
party,high maintenance girls chosen
dependable good women ignored
this begs the question what is a real man
lots declare publicly, i am a good man
bias and subjected words to safe faded honor
honor
a word created to make ego taste better
Mr E Aug 2014
Rain is such a beautiful thing
The way the drops splash
Drenching all in a liquid sheet
All encompassing it rains for miles
Swallowing the world in a dreary state

I love the rain
Rain means no smiles
No sunny days
A world with rain
Where the people feel my sorrow
Where my darkness becomes reality
And no matter how much they despise it
They cannot escape

Rain is cruel
Trapping you
Holding you
Rain is misery
Rain is my reality
That I gladly give to you
Charlie Oct 2015
It was a question;
a simple inquiry
that I had been running from,
catching me off guard,
trapping me in this feeling,
that I had been found out,
before I had found myself.

I remember taking offense,
as if it were an accusation,
rather than a question.
Out of breath,
and suspiciously defensive,
I was frightened out of my mind.
But it had been asked with such disdain,
such disgust and disapproval,
so I kept running.
one of the first I ever wrote.. really uncertain about it, I've never shared it until now
Bailey B Dec 2009
I.
I lift my eyelids.
plipliplip.
The rain invites me to play.
Her cold fingers curl around the doorframe,
"Come on, come sing again! Sing, just like you used to!"
She burbles gleefully.
"Come on, old friend.
We used to be ballerinas, whirling and laughing.
We used to be one
one and the same."
Her fingertips inch through my solid oak door.
I frown and shove the door closed
throw down the lock
yank my curtains closed
Closed to the scent of moss
to the wail of the wind
to the percussion of the weather.
(I prefer the smell of coffee
the sound of silence
of security.)
"I used to be a lot of things," I call.
"But then I grew up."

II.
She knocks at my door.
Again. (memories are persistent.)
Teasing me with her calm voice
whispering lofty and cool.
I sigh
begrudgingly I follow
sliding into my raincoat
tugging up the hood
drawing the string tight around my jaw.
She dances in watery windchimes
sluicing across the slick sidewalk,
she pirouettes
leaps
beckons for me to follow.
My galoshes are not as forgiving as toe shoes; I trip.
I reach out my hand tentatively
curiously
feel a cold ***** of water slide down my index finger.
Icy. Biting.
I gasp and flick it off.
The world is a box of watercolors
but all smeared together in shades of earth.
Shadow, cornflower, lilac, mud
muddy colors I identify straight away.
They bring a smudgy comfort
a hesitant nostalgia.
I feel a note catch in my throat
like trapping a dragonfly in a glass jar.
It flits violently to escape,
but I dare not let it out.
It is sunny under my umbrella.

III.
Late late night
midnight and a half (to be exact.)
I hear her call
frosting my windows with condensation.
I etch into my foggy breath,
feeling the panes hard against my pale skin.
"Come." says her voice.
"Listen--" I protest.
"Live." urges her whisper.
So I fling back the door
let the coolness trickle down my head.
Silver bullets sparkle in the moonlight
I tilt my face towards the crystal beads,
watch them pour across my face.
I shake my flimsy nightgown
sodden with tears never shed.
I twirl, laughing across the yard.
"Old friend, how I have missed you!"
The rain calls to me.
My tears melt with hers
tumbling down my neck.
My words burst forth, a crescendoing horn
swelling across the rooftops
resounding to the deepest roots of the trees.
"I don't want to grow up."
jonchius Sep 2015
redefining awkward definiens
endorsing victorious evening
clamoring hawk-like intonations
conjecturing additional goals
optimizing ambient network
winning illinoisan night

trapping hacked-up events
warping æsthetic remnants
resuming inaudible overture
rallying auric-state net-work
defying anti-punk technophobia
eliminating cavalier homies!

minding icelandic anniversary
winging ersatz excuses
kicking ecstatic nerves
denying lackadaisical event
questioning upper echelons
brûlant en calice
the third week of June 2015 (cut short due to camping trip)
Eclipsing Moon Sep 2011
Astral Souls
A Chapter by Eclipsing Moon-blood red


musings on the connection and joining of the reincarnated souls each new time...how many linked souls or spirits does one determine are in one original soul


Warning
This Chapter is rated Mature and may contain material unsuitable for readers under 18.


I select Mature because I refuse to subject younger minds to transcendental thoughts...





Astral projection is more real at this point in my life than the daily occurances in my so called normal life..to know me is to know there is nothing normal about Me.

   Projection to Me is the natural state of existance of soul beings and the travel to assist others is done subconciously and consciously in my daily and nightly moments of tuned in

travel in the Astral level...meditation is my natural way of entering this state and complete quiet and ****** movement is not required..when My spirit tunes into a spirit requiring thought of mental healing or just discussion on that level I "tune in" to the reality of that space in time...and that spirit and merge with the spirit and experience it with them.

   Clearing the spirit of a soul is required by the joining with them ..and letting them experience Astral thru Me ...while I calm them internally in their physical form...many traumatic injuries can be treated in this manner..by taking over the pain and healing the body from inside...pain is only karma needing balancing and occurs to promote the understanding of situations...best assisted by allowing a spirit to be in the body of the teacher/friend to see what the lesson is.



Post script:

I simply did not follow that line in the process..ty for mentioning the responsibilities it brings...I'm gonna post that on the reviews as I've answered several questions along the same order..you will notice I said it is karma and involvement in karma is responsibility...I never attempt to alter personal lessons with out consulting with the entity...pain is for karmic teaching..I do not aleviate it unless I must to remove a certain type of situation...such as a broken leg in physical life that is very painful and no pain medicine is around..the blood pressure can get way too high in certain situations...so yes..i will intervene in certain death situations if My guides concur...it is only then that WE would decide that action...it is far from simple as Kerry commented...I sent her an explanation on that...responsibility wise it is a heavy karmic responsibility and I claim no god complex..if I dont share with enlightened beings such as YOU..then I am at fault for keeping it secret...I assure you it does not seem God like from here...kinda like deep doodoo for spirit help...I would never wish that on anyone....I am still searching...Yes always will be ,,a physical body is a trust ..an endowment to care for...if the difficulty were my personal choice and mine alone to decide...I would resign the honor...but it is not...The laws of Dharma And Karma require Me to choose to learn ...until My time ..this time..is over...teaching and learning is MY responsibility...clear as a singing bowl's ring...OmManiPadme Om.





Guided Meditation



On closing my eyes I see a insect ...it takes on air around its body by trapping it in its hair follicles..it then dives slowly into the depths and goes..down ...down...down..until it reaches a hidden rock cave..where it goes in and deposits its air bubble..on exiting it repeats this process and traps more air at the surface...only yo go down ..down..down..again ...time after time...repetition is my focus and it is soothing to my mind..it gives it a focus to relieve the tension...I stay until the focus ..removes My fear...to be contd.






prev chapter
The Vault Dec 2018
I was young. A girl of just 13 when my life was taken away from me.
He was a leader to me and someone I trusted deeply. But when doors were closed and rooms were dark, he was a demon.
He took little pieces of me away. My sanity, my trust, my everything.
No one knew what he was doing but neither did I. I was young and naive. Always trusting someone.
All I could do was feel trapped as he touched my innocent tiny body. Touched all the parts that he shouldn't have. Parts that were mine and mine only.
I felt trapped and suffocated over the months it accured. I felt more and more disturbed and felt like this wasn't right.
My mother told me to say out loud if things like this happened.
But I couldn't.
I would disappoint her. So I lashed out at him. It was sudden anger and trapping myself in my room for him to stay away. Countless knifes littered my room if he ever forced himself on me.
That little girl disappeared with his hands.
And to this day he is still in the family. The demon I am forced to consider my father.
No one knows.
Not that I would ever tell them.
Michelle Garcia Mar 2016
I do not wish to be
an emerald, pressed firmly against
the flesh of someone else's finger,
to be marveled upon by eyes
that only see beauty disguised beneath layers
of self-inflicted ignorance.
I do not wish for a life
sitting gracefully upon its pedestal,
or a striking face behind a glass display
that has never tasted the sweat
of reality.
I refuse to pass days behind
white picket fences trapping me
from seeking out scarlet horizons
or to live by the shout
of a clock that is running out of words
to tell me that I mean
nothing.
I am not going to sit, confined within
the peeling floral paper
that embraces the same walls that suffocate me
nor will I let my heart sleep
within the cavern walls of a chest
that is starving to set it free.

I want to crawl towards comfort
with scraped knees that do not bleed apologies
and earth trapped underneath my fingernails
like a joke no one ever broke silence to laugh at
I want to harvest gratification
with these same hands that have taught themselves
how to let go of the ones
who have tried to set it on a silver plate
for me to eat.

I desire to be dizzy
on the last day I will ever grace the air
with my breath,
blinded by joy I had spent a lifetime pursuing
with shadows cast beneath these hungry eyes
that have realized--

that it takes a revolution
to be able to say that I did more
than just exist,
I conquered.
late night hoops
24-hour fitness
you call me "white boy"
"how did you know?"
i want to say
funny
"hey white boy"
sounds a lot like
"hello mr. oppressor"

i am not
a poster boy for the past or present
a rusty slogan of inequality
or
a white boy

i am
irish norwegian german french-canadian native american
spud-eating fur trapping wampum-trading viking

i am
pumping pull-ups on the poverty line
just tall enough to ride the wel-ferris wheel
unable to tell my mother i love her
and
b   r   o   k   e   n
Deta
ched
scarred

******* my shirt like a salty otter pop
swallowing sweaty syllables
the pringle on my shoulder
about to crunch

game point
tie game
15
15

we are equal
even when i sink that shot
tickle that twine
we are still equal
you and i
Lieke Jan 2019
Him
How could I,
Let myself be oblivious,
Miss all the red flags,
Ignore the warnings the universe was sending me.


I got cut.
A million shreds of pain stuck into me.
The way he looks at me glues to my hair.
His words became needles thread through my skin.
His touch on my body became tattoos of pressure.
Seeing him alive became my biggest fear.


I want to peel off my skin,
Start over again.
Untouched,
Unharmed,
Un-youed.
So I bought a new bra,
And rebooted a brand new me.


But no matter how new I am,
No matter how many bras I buy,
I keep falling back.
You've got me leashed.
Trapping me,
Until I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.

I

can't

breathe.
18 January, 2019
Drake Gonzales Sep 2012
As I concentrate on the X on the ceiling
I feel the burning pain travel
O this enduring feeling
Farther I travel into subconscious
My mind barely still reeling
The needle drags past skin
Past regret, past nerve endings
Body, patiently waiting for the healing to begin
O three pronged needle of shades
Dripping into blood stream
Trapping yourself between layers of
Epidermis, leaving your mark unclean
I try to find my tranquil place
A quiet forest, a a glaciers gleam
Yet my mind shouts and doth protest
This is your finest moment
Do not hide from it
Endure the present
At that moment the machine strikes my chest
I am here focusing on the X
The buzz becomes a lullaby
But do not fall into the minds eye
Living in the present
The girl watching see's the blood rise
A color I cannot see from my perspective
I smile with clenched teeth
To show I will not accept demise
O perseverance you have prevailed
The needle lifts, antiseptic applied
The tingle of chemical purity relaxes my skin
I try to stand but my head is a blur '
Legs lack equilibrium for a moment
I am reborn, like a religious experience
People of faith describe
I am new
I am proud
I am high.
Molly Pendleton Jan 2014
I am not in love with her
Or lust, or infatuation
But nonetheless;  
She leaves her mark
Traces of herself all over me
Mahogany stains bleed through on my fingertips
Streaks of purple smudgings are left in my ear canals
Trickles of red wine are swept along my tender neck
Oozing down, down, down, down
And I cannot scrub this from my skin
No matter how many hours I waste
Lathering myself up into a foam of obliviousness
Still at the end of the day she is there, intriguing as ever
Trapping me again
In this foggy purple haze
Destiny Odeh Jul 2015
Dear Mum,

I fell in love with an angel,
Although these feelings run deep but I can't tell.
Nothing hurts like loving from afar,
Because she doesn't love me the way I love her.

Her deep seated issues made her weak.
With the blush of innocence on her cheek.
At different intervals I would stare at her for long,
She was the beautiful theme of my song.

Nothing gave her tranquility like a blade and a cigar.
Her face like a Hollywood movie star.
But her arms were a gallery of secret scars.

Loving wholeheartedly was her undoing.
An imperfect being - A human so broken.
And the final nail in her coffin,
Was seeing her lover's lifeless body in the morning.

The words "Live Forever, Fly Away!" scribbled with
his blood on the mirror next to his arm.
A bottle of ***** on the sink, empty bottles of xanax
and a blade in his right palm.

Trapping herself in a room with no door.
Suffering from a kind of depression with no cure.
She gave up on everything.
Had nothing left, but emptiness within.

She got on a ledge and tried to return home; to the sky.
She ruffled her arms once more, as if she could fly.

She fell.

Tear drops bounced off the skies and washed her blood away.
I didn't weep for the moments we never had. I shed a tear
for each word I never got a chance to say.

Three tear drops ran down my cheek, lubricating my lips.
- "I love you".

After midnight; under the cloak of darkness, watching the stars dance.
I solemnly whispered to the heavens seeking guidance.
I say a quick prayer begging God for repentance.

Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly.
Waiting for a miracle, a sign, an epiphany.
Just anything to stop me.

I found Dad's old revolver under his bed.
Please forgive me as I place it against my head.
I hope in this life you will someday understand,
The reason I'm pulling this trigger is to hold my angel's hand.

Yours Forever,
Elijah
Extra...extra...Trumpasaurus Extinction

(Only a pipe dream)
Obsolete "FAKE" news
Extra...extra...Trumpasaurus Extinction,
Now Putin Rules As De Facto Leader!

Pastor Of Muppets – shout huzzah...
no mo' Trump he's Gone er re: ya
especially “father figure” for Miss Piggy
-----------------------------------------------------------­----
More'n a ***** dozen deeds done dirt cheap moon units ago
since presidential election took us down the highway to hell  
emotional, social repercussions still reverberate
how reprobate Trump triumphed

graduating magma *** lug head
to become leader of free world
acing highest score (via cribbed cheat sheet)
per Electoral College examination.
noah yam aghast (still feel nauseated) as
Donald trump got nominated president elect,

or more apropos an inept apprentice,
though a teetotaler delirium tremens,
brings corporeal bris
ling foretelling premonition
oven approaching crisis
as one basket of deplorable,

whose shell shocked eggs ess
tints did not peter out
re: fate rigged 2016 election appalled hike con fess
at prospect outsize bully nabbed
most sought after house seat - ugh guess

thine psyche fearful that arrogance, indecency,
pomposity, and vivacity will break ranks and restore Hess
shun militaristic modus operandi crowning himself
King Kong of amerika - applauded
by a *** dread locked Klansmen less
or more, with spirit of a jolly roger intent

shredding sacred documents, and creating a mess;
ages will require to restore righteous, and officious,
amazing gracious steeped ford did legacy
of forefathers and mothers
(against trump driving the country
into wah hell in a hand basket),

which democratic rubric Paine stay king lee
easel lee trampled oh press
sieve lee in sync with missteps
made during on the job training

at national ex pence augments ominous
ramping up of tess toss tear roan,
wherefore if happenstance finds Czech mated express
train tearing down the tracts,
we the people of the United States might vouchsafe
for a veep ping Petsmart prodigy to take over - YES!
-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -
Reince Priebus promises to hold sway,
while hi yam rez hind tune augur
race shin, more than approximately 300 hours ago,
a fate worse than death doth bode

despite hangover lingering effect
unable to shake mice elf sober
despite chugging nary an ale
memory summons back,

hide dashed hoof well-healed poem express
sing reaction while shuttered in me man cave dale
how Democratic Party did fail
to clinch nomination,

thus with measured words this male
wants to air and share his non-rapacious sentiments
others no doubt harbor various
seas sinned reactions that might pale

in terms - their private tear ring expressions
explicitly rant and rail against unexpected
and unacceptable result, where scale
of moderation heavily tilted
toward possible global travail

armaments stacked as thee Barron doth un veil
bombardiers carpet bomb
(whoops....accidentally kilt Trump heathen)
while manning his Taj Mahal casino gun whale.
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ABOUT ONE MILLENNIUM LATER
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what cha red back in history class i.e. yes...
that traitorous treacherous treasonous tale,
but truth told since time immemorial
whom sever decreed demise
of terrible lizard beasts aye

moost upend long entrenched theory,
and bid good bye
sans foursquare extinction reeks foul,
cuz one pea brained reptilian

o’er shadowed all as fiercest, he ranged free
amidst a cut throat rogues gallery
thee unnamable overlooked
sinister species sought supremacy

(gamut of miniature game pieces
model available at sundry department stores
wherever schlocky plastic model toys sold)
popular trapping of childhood imagination –

imbue vainglorious ventriloquist
inciting fiendish cry
such kiddy paraphernalia
forever a top selling plaything
snapped off shelves leaving allocated space bone dry.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Since time immemorial dinosaur makeshift gewgaws
did cap cha ominous jaws,
and populated fertile land of cave dwellers
whereat swaddled kinder babes bellowed believable
farcically feigned ferocious fabrications foraging bankrupt

foretold foreclosure to espy real McCoy
perhaps assembled from mud, rocks and sticks
noisome predators snatching
voice some innocent prey  -

ripping to tatters and shreds
unlucky victim rarely escaping
in fizz hicks of time – witnessed first hand proof positive
how I came that close (pinch thumb with index finger)

simian snack aye haint fool’n witch cha,
nar doth this medieval troubadour –
spin a yarn approximating
verity of nasty Hobbesian brute

trumpeting fiercely bruited
his bombastic buzz hard
carrion feed small fry to Golgotha donning topface,
could dice in a flickr emulate, and twitter

rang one excited live hotmail riding Pegasus,
while those in his Isis Petsmart warpath
on outlook to avoid get linkedin,
per imp (of the pervert) pale’n maws

simultaneously masticating and able to shutterfly
hither and yon, to and fro rousing
seditious twittering rogues gallery
of reprobate ruthless minions -

ruminants to become  apprenticed
fired up en mass thru the art of the deal
vis a vis venal pet peeves
pygmy male hominids revered
his racially stirred debacle

while straddling as a humungous towering hill,
he pill or reedlike lex Lucifer usurpation,
whence auld dish diehard don nah sore
dominated as demented species,

thus, he didst not perish from this earth
boot yielded rubric of emperor by the peep hole,
four the pea pull, of the peep pill.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This older ville lad spurs rumor -
more than just food for thought or eating crow
does generate quite a wishful after thought to flow
whence sum divine

wind blown comedic act, an inflow
of furies rise from Dante's hell - don bell low
aye wood pine fate to hammer
sic culled swathed headline oh
brings joy to the world wide webbed land,

where Rob zombie i.e. Ivan Ca Rho
into dustbin of hiss tory;
stuffing of legions of legends
recollection and object lesson to hooligans woe
full derelicts, who might be forced
to cease clowning around like - bo Zoë.
Unpolished Ink May 2022
You can try to capture the wind
trap the airy whistle of trees
or the fluting song of reeds on the river
yes you can try to tame the restless spirit of the breeze
but it will sulk
and sit silent in the jar
until you let it out again
See.                    I'm.                                
No- ­                     fi-                                   I  
   thi                   ne.                             was
     ng                  I'm.                        up
        is    ­            Go-                   rea-
          wro-          od,                 lly
               ng.      Okay            late.
           I had a snack before I came.
             The.                              I'm
       make.               I'm                Just
up.                          Not         ­         Tired.
Makes.                  Broken                      I    
      ­ Me                                           Don't
           Look.                                 Feel
                   pale.                Well.
                   Yesterday was great
              I just.          I'm            I just
          Had.                Ha-            Like
      A bad.                ppy.               The
Sleep.                                               Style.

These are the threads
Of my web of lies
That I build above your heads
Strenghth ending everyday

My common day lies
Spun like spiders silk
Drifting unbroken in the skies
So plain it stands hidden

Entwined strings of excuses
To form a mask from the world
With a million uses
To fake that I am whole

Because I am the spider
Creeping through the day
Dangling off silk as my web grows wider
Trapping all the flies
Mimi Jul 2011
Supple skin, insides of elbows
we scratched til they bled
split lips and scraped knees
I would follow you anywhere
Burrowed in your old clothes
you didn’t wear dresses
so neither did I.
Curled up on your too-green carpet
watching the fish in your tank
commit suicide one by one.
Can we stay the same?
Before Momma’s on the phone
shouting about faulty vaccines.
Before the world descends upon us.
In the night
you would slowly voice the thoughts:
what is the value of a human life
if it is miserable. If people laugh and mock,
if that life is silently and hopelessly
alone, and suddenly aware of it’s own strangeness.
It takes hours, to string this together
creeping towards 3am in the pitch dark.
we are sitting on the floor,
I promise with all of my eight year old honor
all of my fighting might,
I will not abandon you to this cruel world trapping
you. All this unknown grief
for the emotions you cannot understand.
My big brother called last night at 11:41 pm on a school night
We made plans to see a movie next year. So this is his.

(I think this needs an edit and an new title, thoughts?)
Ironatmosphere Jun 2015
The atmosphere is a cage
Keeping us all in
A confiding sphere
Trapping us on this orb
Floating through an echo-less space
A breathtakingly beautiful cosmos we will never reach
As we keep traveling infinitely
i forgot how to write
but there's revelry in spite of me
sounds and words inside of me
semantics trapping happily
sentiments tapping rapidly
on the inside of my skull

slowly i am lulled
inevitably pulled
suffocated slow
by lies as cold as snow
piled up in banks
as high as memories
of sour smokes
and trusted snakes
of shattered hopes
and forlorn aches
wounds i forced forgotten for ages
creaking out of their cast iron cages
locked no more, instead released
from tired hopes for truth
and worn out wakes for peace

over the candles,
across the white cloth'd table
I sip coffee as i stare them in the face
with a soft glance,
i slip into a subtle trance-
empty space on which to paint
the blackboard of my brain.

And there
maybe chalk will wash away in rain.
I was in a headspace where i had not written much or well for quite a while.  Standing in the shower, i thought "i forgot how to write". To follow came  the second line. then, formulating the meaning of such, it lead me along the idea that writing is incessant in my head and becomes a blur that needs to be let out. Its not that it isnt there - it always is. Rather, it is discerning the words from the amorphous mass that is the challenge for me as a writer. All the words and thoughts and emotions i possess boil under the surface in my brain. I often glance down from  above, and see nothing but a smoothe surface, ignoring the creatures there in the deep.

This time, i think the happening that lead to my not writing is in y havign been unable or un-ready to face wounds present in myself, fromt hings ive done, lies ive been told or told, of people i thought honest and true to me turning out to be frauds and transients and leaving my life.  The idea of sipping coffee with your hurts always comes back to me in times where depression is strong - thanks to a friend of mine who said to me something along the lines of "sometimes we dont need to solve our problems, sometimes we just need to sit and have a cup of coffee with them".

The blackboard brain bit is the way that i think in images and connected concepts- the same way i imagine a chalboard would be useful in illustrating- and a place to illustrate the details of each wound as i give them the attention they deserve. The trance that comes with trauma. The way it can empty all else from the mind and become the sole focus. And finally, the way that, hopefully, facing, illustrating, and looking intently at each, will assuage the damages.
michael gagain Apr 2013
snow is drifting
beneath my feet
the wind is blowing
it cuts like teeth

the wolves are howling
for something to eat
the summer is gone
there's no retreat

i like the warmth
much better than this
the storm it show's
that she is ******

wolves come closer
in a pack
there's no escape
from there attack

build a fire
to keep warm
and help protect you from the storm

the sun goes down
it's getting colder
the pack of wolves
is getting bolder

the gun is loaded
and it's ready
the cold makes it  hard to aim and steady

i'm trapping minks
and lynx and stuff
to make a living
you know it's tough

i don't want to shoot these
wolves so grand
although there trying to make a stand

i mind my business
but there hungry too
and a weeks hard work
of trapping food

i have more heart than some one would
i'm gonna feed
these hungry wolves
Brandon Halsey Jan 2012
You excuse yourself from the party
And sneak off to the second floor
You hide out in your bedroom
And double-lock the door

The taste of birthday cake still lingers
That stupid song rings in your ears
Downstairs your guests are having fun
Though their host is not how she appears

You reach underneath your bed
And grab a box that’s made from tin
Shaking hands quickly remove
The sharp instruments held within

The tools of a sacred ceremony
That follows the emotional drain
The ****** ritual of release
The catharsis brought by pain

You grab the hem of your skirt
And raise it up past your waist
You stare down at battered legs
Milky white flesh you’ve defaced

A terrain map of your body
A reminder of who you are
Some may prefer a tattoo
But nothing lasts like a scar

Each memory is a torturous cell
Trapping you in an inescapable past
The pain and suffering that never ended
And the happiness that wouldn’t last

Ignorance may be bliss for some
But it comes with a price too steep
So relive those nights in your father’s bed
When he made you cry yourself to sleep

Soon you’ll make your way downstairs
And blend in seamlessly with the crowd
That fabricated air of optimism
Is the mask that acts as your shroud

A smile, a laugh or a smirk
False gestures you convey
You find it so easy to lose yourself
Inside the character you portray

Reality is too difficult for some
The real Sarah they can never know
You only do this for their own good
So let’s get on with the show
Ellie Elliott Jan 2018
My mistakes go retro, I’ve made them before
sometimes I think being forced to talk through lightbulbs would maybe stop it all
all the awkward hello-I-exist moments all the overreactions all the irritated snaps when I can’t snap out of it all the times I didn’t mean to cry out *******,
no, with that limitation I’d only say what I needed to

It’s not like I’m living upside down but it sure does feel like it
hidden away in my head so much that the outside world feels eerie
daylight is bright white and reality is my Demogorgon
I’m too tired to fight it, and standing in supermarkets, bleary-eyed
feels unreal, like a fake body in a quarry
I just wish love was enough to overcome worry

My dungeons are four cream walls closing in on me, infecting me with black slime that weighs me down too much to move
My dragons are adrenaline and exhaustion, they take turns attacking me,
these demons keep trapping me, and I keep getting told it’s too soon
It’s too soon for this, I’m just a kid
lost in the forest, upside down and off-grid
I’m off-kilter, with a faulty brain-filter and my squirming blue fingers
are gripping bike handles and trying to rebuild her

The ******* the wire, the girl with inner fire whose eyes shined like the lights I wish I had to communicate with
that girl would have slain the Demogorgon with idealism and defiance,
now I wish it away in the pretense that it’s a myth
She could whisk objects away into a magical space, a deep forest of brave faces,
seeing beauty in all things through summer dazed rays of romance
skipping along rivers, hair fair and careless, daring to dream of daisies gleaming, just on the lookout for the next rhyme,
unaware that this was the strongest she’d ever be, the least cowardly, unaware that she’d one day be me.

Locked up in the four walls with no fairy lights or lyrics,
Joyce Byers without a reason,
crazy with no spirit.
Months on end immersed in dungeons, fighting dragons,
only to escape and be faced with this deadly Demogorgon:
life without eleven lenses of hope. A life cynical and devoid of magic,
less nightmarish than the upside down but just as bleak,
this is the monster that makes me weak

it’s not the upside down, but my own reality.

I’m still waiting for my sling-shot, sleeping until my powers are restored,
there’s nothing worse than seeing the world and being bored,
in eleven days I’ll try again,
I have at least eleven days of hope left,
I’ll get out of this swimming pool, hop over the barbed wire,
eleven days to find that girl again and turn my gasoline fire inwards,
to escape the wasteland once and for all,
for the world to be big enough that I don’t hear the Demogorgon through the walls,

Eleven days to fix my sanctuary in the forest,
so I can light up both my outward-looking eyes like the aurora borealis.
ellie elliott
C Davis Apr 2015
Who counted hours out of the sky
And clipped the ends off?
Who quantified
Existence?
Who cheapened the flights of the sun and the moon
And put limits on time
Trapping limitless eyes?

Each day
Is one thousand days and each hour
Is one thousand hours, and
Years pass in seconds
While seconds last lifetimes
Sometimes

But my calendar

Has no capacity for this.

A moment
Lasts as long
As the glow lingers
When it's gone

And all the while
The clocks tick on,

I maintain whoever measured
The day
Was wrong.
Kenna Sep 2012
Head spinning
Feet tapping
Mind wrapping
Thought trapping
Idea capping
Desperation mapping
Quality lacking

Spaces filled
Time killed
Not thrilled
Answers willed

Nails biting
Cheaters sighting
After all nighting
Wrongs not righting
Feel like flighting

Brainpower waning
Lack of knowledge maintaining
Wisdom draining
Composure regaining

Test failing
Arms flailing
Letters mailing
Face paling
The big unveiling
No more prevailing
The action entailing:
My annihilation
Disorganized Chaos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Meredith Dec 2013
Before reading this I want people to know that I have never been *****.
I got the inspiration for this poem from a post on tumblr.*

One
After the first time he put his hands on her
she never thought she'd be able to escape the grasp of the feeling
she stayed up till 3:41 in the morning in the bathtub
sitting in the scalding water
trying to burn the dirt from her skin.
she sat there until the water turned cold
and she had not one tear left to cry
and until her skin was rubbed raw and bleeding.
she counted the bruises on her body
9 on her stomach
1 on her face
1 on her neck
a yellow and purple necklace around her collar
from the telephone wire he abused
from the telephone she didn't dare use
even after he finished manipulating her.
she scrubbed his fingers from her hair
but decided cutting it off would be easier
she washed his yelling voice from her ears
but found that screaming made him quieter
she scraped his taste from her lips
a dry martini
a cigarette
and someones tears from the past.
she couldn't scrub her wrists hard enough
to erase the feeling of the ropes he had her anchored with
so instead she sliced the flesh of where the imprint lay
attempting to release the strain from the burn marks on her skin.

Two
That same morning when she almost bled out
she checked herself into a hospital.
They sewed up the crimson bracelets she made
trapping inside of her wrists
each scream he muffled
with every new stitch.
she guessed they figured out what happened
whether it was the bruises
or the way her speech sounded like morse code but
they told her the police were informed
and that they'd do everything in their power to find monster
who opened the door to her own personal hell.
When the sketch artist asked her to describe him
she told her he was a photocopy
the regular John Doe
medium hight
brown hair brown eyes
nothing special or unique that would make a girl cross to the other side of the street
just like she said she should have done.
When they told her she needed to be inspected
she didn't even flinch
that seemed to be the only thing that people did these days
was inspect one another for an outcome that they'll be paid for
in paychecks or pleasure.
They stripped her down
apologizing for the cold
they took pictures
apologizing for the flash
they held her hand
apologizing for the feeling
but why apologize if he already imprinted it on her body
there's no going back from this
she will never be able to look at a man the same way again
she will always see cold hard hands on her shoulders
even at the warmest touch
she will only see flashes of his lips forced onto hers
when she receives the smallest peck
she will never be able to feel anything but a mattress beneath her back
rope around her wrists
and a freezing cold emptiness inside of her stomach.

Three
After the second time he put his hands on her
she stayed up all night in the freezing cold water
not even trying to remove his mark from her.
she figured that if the dirt beneath his fingernails were still there the second time
the dirt would still be on her too.
she let the filth engulf her
telling herself that all she was was dirt anyway
and as she lay with her head underwater
she screamed as loud as she could
for as long as she could
until her face was red
her voice was scratchy
till the veins in her neck pulsed
and when she finally sat up she was deafened by a deep silence
with no more sound than rippling water and the ticking of the clock.
That's when she realized that no matter how loud she screamed
she would never be heard amongst other peoples silences.
silences full of beeping cars and TV commercials
buzzing air conditioners and clinking plates
quite whispers and loud laughs
full of family and friends and the whole world spinning around them.
she would never matter to anyone
no brakes would squeal at the sound of her desperation
no ears would turn to decipher the morse code she mustered shakily from her lips
no one would ever care that her screams for help were muffled
and no one would have a hole in their stomach if she disappeared.
at this thought
she slipped deeper into the tub
unwraps the bandages from around both her wrists
uncovering scars that would never heal.
She explored the wounds with her fingers
and saw how weak the stitching was
like the nurse who repaired her found it pointless
and attempted it half heartedly.
She discovered that pulling the dark material that was woven through her flesh
would release her blood
like opening a door to another universe.
the purple would quickly turn to red
drop slowly into the tub
creating a water color painting of the war inside her head.
She pinched the strings holding the two parts of her together
******* their rough surface
she began to feel tired
dreaming of a happier place
of a happier her
of feeling like a person again.
she pinched the string
and pulled.
hard.
KateKarl Jan 2019
scratchy and damp do not harmonize underfoot
and fear and the ocean should not coexist
but like this elevator missing the thirteenth button, my comfort sinks with tantalizing, lethargic anxiety.

the boards are a smokeless fire underfoot,
grit rolling between me and chipped brown paint,
as i beg for cold, thirst for salt, but do not run to the provocative, promising body beyond the dunes.

and my clothes are underfoot,
and this lemonade pink towel whose corner grabs at the sand,
and the hot dry fades into something that is sturdy and packed down by bounds like mine.

carbon slices at my underfoot,
the sharp home of a long-dead thing,
as my heel strikes the iron, water-pat shore, and the shock of it stuns my bones.

shock! cold underfoot
lace between my toes, smoking from wood and run
and then my face is in the sea, because who needs air when life is the sun trapping itself in the pink of my shoulder blades?
I haven't written poetry in a very long time, but am putting together a small portfolio for a writing class assignment. Any and all advice is more than welcome, even if you're the type who can't say it nicely!
Nova Flames Apr 2013
sip on this game direct from the tree of knowledge
im trapping in the forest; nocturnal like that owl,
im that black panther, ninja on the prowl
highly melenated, ALL BLACK, no darth vader
highly medicated, NO SNACKs, or now and laters...
never chasing paper nor running for the mayor, haters looking for a savior
its clear they don't love their self
I'M riches in my health, stash crystals in my wealth
if your calcified then you don't feel me like felt
you buckle under pressure why purchase cheap belts?
call me Mr wizard as i place you beneath my spell
unlimited vigor feather light on the scale!
even if i were brail, still no one could touch me.
if life WERE a ***** i bet she'd bee UGLY
non the less that phrase stands uncorrect
13 LOVE 13 Raspect.....
Aaron LaLux Dec 2016
American Refugee


Head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my misstepped steps…

Where have I awoken?

What country am I in?

Who was that girl last night?

Why did I choose to go through it again?

When will I finally say enough is enough?

Enough is enough.

Why does the poison feel so good?

I love everything that hates me,
alcohol and cigarettes,
promiscuous girls date me,
but only for a night…

A night was had,
dancing music,
flirting new friends,
we were all in it together,
a glorious moment,
with people from all over the world,
we were on top of the world,
surfing on a rocket,
on Cloud Nine with some fine felines,
bumping beats with a pocket full of sunshine,
flashy lights and flashy ladies,
drinks on me,
literally,
drinks on me,

I felt like we all felt,
so together,
so how’d I end up,
so all alone,
nursing a hangover,
with poached eggs and mochaccinos,
served by a surprisingly cute waitress,
at a cafe somewhere in New Zealand…

Head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my steps…

I came here,
to this country,
to escape Hollywood,
where I was trapped in it’s trapping trappings,

trapped in it’s clubs,
trapped in it’s women,
trapped in it’s drugs,
trapped in it’s cliches,
so why is it,
I found myself,
on the other side of the world,
at club with some women on drugs trapped in this same cliche?

Same ****t,
different country,
I guess you can take the boy outta Hollywood,
but you can’t take the Hollywood outta the boy…

I am the world’s first American Refugee,
except I didn’t come on a boat,
in ragged clothes clinging to my body,
and ragged hopes clinging to my psyche,

I came,
on an airplane,
in a first class seat,
dining on the offerings of a corporate worldwide empire,

but it is not the means of movement,
it is the intention behind the actions that matters,

and I came,
with the intention to create a healthier life,
a cleaner life,
a better future for myself and all those I love.

I am an American Refugee,

I am an American Refugee,
fleeing the subconscious oppressions of my country,
fleeing the persecution of all things I held holy and sacred,
I am tired of witnessing the spiritual ****** of my falling comrades,

I am a American Refugee,
more specifically,
a Hollywood Refugee,
fleeing the bright lights and large egos,
searching for solace and refuge,
amongst the towering rainforest trees of New Zealand,

I fled the toxic water the toxic air and the toxic people,
to drink fresh water breathe clean are and befriend friendly people,

so why,
why,
why would I subject myself,
to the same oppressions that I’ve attempted to flee from?

Justin Bieber echoed across the dance floor,

“Is it to late to say I’m sorry now?
Yeah I know that I let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”

“I’m sorry.”,

“Sorry.”,

“Sorry.”,

“Yeah I know that I let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”,

and as cheesy and cliche as it sounds,
I get the chills because I knew exactly what he was saying,
and I wondered if anyone else in that club was an American Refugee,
I wondered if anyone else in that club knew what Justin Bieber was saying,
or if they were just dancing because of the beat,
and they were just singing along because that’s what they think they’re supposed to do,
because most people have to be told what’s cool,
then force fed that coolness until they have too many pairs of shoes,

no amount of shoes will ever bring you real happiness,
and I honestly apologize,
we Hollywoodians were put in a position to lead the free world,
and everyone listened to us,
you all listened to us,
you gave us your ears and your hearts,
your souls and your minds,
and all we gave you were improbable dreams,
and glorious visions,
of an unsustainable lifestyle that you go broke trying to duplicate,

when will you realize you can chase,
but you can never catch something that doesn’t really exist?

And I’m sorry,
but I give up,
I’m done,
because,

“Yeah I know once more I’ve let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”.

I’m sick and tired so I’m retiring,
I’m retreating to build a retreat,
somewhere in New Zealand,
where I can be free again,

and I’ve finally made it here,
but it seems mentally I’m not prepared,
because I’m still going to clubs with a bunch of girls,
then getting used up foolishly because I foolishly thought they cared,

who cares?

I don’t want the weight of the world on my shoulders anymore,
I don’t need all eyes on me,
I just want to get rid of all my wants,
so that I can finally be freed and have all that I need,

you must get rid of your wants,
so you can do what you like,

and I do feel a little bit relieved to finally be in New Zealand,
but honestly the weight of the world is still on my shoulders,

I still can’t shake this feeling,
that I’m just going through the routine,
as I write these words on this laptop,
and fuel my words with free range eggs and caffeine,

up on this mountain all alone,
even though I’m at a crowded cafe,
and it feels like sunrise,
even though it’s already mid-day,

my head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my misstepped steps…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

author of

The Poetry Trilogy
The Holy Trilogy
The HH Trilogy
Sara Buzz Oct 2013
Authors Note- this is something I have never done and this may is just a one time thing, this is a poem I wrote about an anime but taking the persona of a character and writing in her point of view
(I put it in the point of view of Yuno Gasai from Mirai Nikki)

Deus ex machina
god of time and space
why do you ruin my life?
why create a game, survival, pain and strife?
the future is clear but just 10 minutes ahead
make a wrong move and you will end up dead.
what kind of god are you?
merciless and cruel.
watching us amused,
my mind just isn't right
you've made me so confused.
Blood drips from my dart, my ax, my knife,
this isn't what I wanted,
"A more exiting life".

My phone is part of my soul now
the dying defeated take their final bow.
creating the ultimate test
searching, killing all the rest.
First, Second, Third, all the way to twelve,
some going crazy, taking out themselves.

Two of us are left, the love of my life and I,
who is going to strike first?
which one of us will die?
I plunged the dagger deep to my heart
so Yukiteru can live
there's nothing more for me to say or do, I've managed as much as I can give.
final words leave my lips as my soul fades into black,
its ok Yuki, I'll find a way back.

I look at you and close my eyes, a tear runs down my face
thank you sweet death take me away, help me leave this forsaken place.
my body goes limp and you lay me gently on the floor
that one small open wound, it no longer feels sore.
it was always yours, right from the start,
my cold, unbeating, dead, loving heart.

you're god now, nothing can go wrong,
all you need to do for me is pretend to stay strong.
my death was painful but it was quick
like wind blowing out a dancing flaming candle, dousing the wick

blood and guts and brain and gore,
the worst is over, there is no more.
rain falls down and washes away all memories
I remember though as it starts to pour.
I'm gone now my dear, so far away,
I thought we'd meet in the sky but it seems there's no way.

too long I've been gone and its starting up again,
that game I lost, way back then.
you're slowly coming closer to your deathbed,
im not sure its true, but that's what murumuru said.
will we be together? can that dream come true?
or have we both moved on and there is no "me and you".

look love, there we are again,
I stabbed out my heart but on paper with a pen.
there is no real blood, only ink
that is where we met. that's the missing link.
if we'd have never met there would never be a game,
life would go on normally, life would be the same.
friends we could be, but for our future sake that's all,
I don't want to die again.
I must break the space-time wall.
I don't want you to see me fall anymore.
I don't want another dead end.
I don't want to see yours either.
but I cant help these feelings for you,
maybe its best to let fate run its course again in the cycle,
I'll regret it later but that's ok because I was meant to die,
and now the game begins again.

I hope you can forgive me for trapping us like this,
but you don't know anything about that now do you?
let it start for the eighty second time,
I'll keep us going forever.

maybe this will be the time when we can finally go see the stars together,
like I promised you so long ago.
like I promised you that last time I saw us for the first time.
Paraps XXIV

Messiah of Judah

It should be fulfilled as predisposed by Vernarth by always having the contemporary desire to melt the trumpets and then recast them, manifesting to take them to meet their most fervent retrospective reunited with his brother apostles and the omnipresent Messiah. The archangel Uriel sent him this plan that he had for him as an always fertile offering in the face of any possible threat of disobedience. Indissoluble and whole, they climb the Eurydice stowing the supplies for this long journey like a Messianic proclamation from the blade of an Aiónus propeller that has already had to open these waters together with the evangelist. The board and the anchor are lifted Procorus made encouraging signs to all, saying goodbye to them and then returning to the hermitage. The others fit into the waves of the Skalá roadstead, Raeder played with Petrobus on the deck laughing at all times when everything seemed seized and sad. Eurídice would go to the figurehead for a few days to take everyone and guide them, this guaranteed that they would always have good movement and navigate without having any details. Vernarth describes:"The apostle would settle on the deck near the bow while I organized the sails and powers of Uriel who would always be close by giving them zephyr winds from the Metelmi. Taking the route sailing from Patmos in the Aegean Sea through the northern Dodecanese Islands. San Juan when he was going off the west coast of Turkey deprecated and was remembering the port of Skalá. Patmos..., its "Apokalypsis Island", leaving behind the monastic and picturesque island with traditional white Oikos, azure, and crystalline waters with its vibrant subjective life. Where Saint Ioannis heard the voice of God and wrote the Apocalypse, as well as the three small cracks in the rock through which came the frequency that symbolized before him the Holy Trinity. They go through Rhodes, the largest island in the Dodecanese in Greece heralding Uriel of ancient ruins and the remains of their occupation when they were part of the Order of Saint John during the Crusades. The city of Rhodes has an Old Town with the medieval Knights' Street and the castle-like palace of the Grand Master. The palace was captured by the Ottomans and later occupied by the Italians. The Apostle could only remember the place of passage when he walked in ecclesiastical gear. Limassol, Cyprus; with too many Greek Cypriot waters was the current where they arrived..., to Limassol. They come here one day. They descend from the Eurydice and head for the Paphos road. To the archaeological treasure keeping its neighboring memories of the Greco-Roman theater built in the second century before Christ. They go happily rolling through vestiges of time, all thanks to the timeless Parapsychological Regressive Memory that Vernarth was narrating as always. Crossing the private Roman villa is the House of Eustolios by Othónes or Paraps screens, converted into a public recreation center during the early Christian period. It consisted of a complex of baths and rooms with floors covered by beautiful mosaics from the 5th century AD Other important buildings are the Paleochristian Basilica dating from the 5th century, a Nymphaeum dedicated to the water nymphs, and the Stadium from the 2nd century AD finds something removed a kilometer from the site. They transfigure the cord of the mosaics of the House of Achilles and the House of the Gladiators, in a perfect state of conservation that with their beautiful colors covered the floors with the same carefree footsteps of each one belonging to the bright tones in their great parallel work of the god Aiónius that was in parallel collating. Here San Juan kneels and prays profusely for the souls of Christians who have fallen to the stigma that will entail the performance of the first miracle of this pilgrimage through Limassol. They were all silent. They leave Cyprus and go to the port of Limassol to board the ship. Being very pleasantly surprised by the unexpected visit of Etréstles who was upon the ship. Everyone jumps with happiness! seeing that the champion of the Koumeterium of Messolonghi, brother of Vernarth, was added to them. Vernarth: Khaire!! Happy is my soul, which flows like a psalm of blood, Carrying your image through the flowers of Limassol! They all hug him and get ready to weigh anchor!

Miracle I  Limassol

"On this vertebral nature in this pilgrimage of uprooting the Apostle, the first miracle will happen before the eyes of all. The land darkened analogously to the landscape, the sea shone like a mirror showing them the feet of the Messiah floating in the Sea. their ***** the heat produced by this surprise stampede. The apostle embraces them all and asks them to approach the anchor line to lift it on the seabed where Creation rests. The Apostle approaches with small bony hands snatching the swivel links that are located near the mooring lever point. He presses with his hand the rope of the Triaconter invading with his thumbnail the netted vine that forms from his line. He begins to pull it several times..., every ten meters he looked at the sky and noticed that some majestic abnormal overtones shone. He is still blind to the eyes of everyone else moving in the ship as if they were on the high seas under the ultimatum of a great storm. Saint John looks at himself in the model mirror of the water, he saw how he pulls his body just like in Galilee when his Master did it, he saw how everyone laughed and was delighted to stop time to laugh together with him inaugurating a thousand years of psalmody. There was no more than five meters left to remove the anchor from the anchorage and he feels that it was excessively heavy. He asked Vernarth and Etréstles for help to get her out of the wet mass, they help him and pull the three unanimously to the rhythm of their revealed eagerness until from the ramp of the overboard they manage to see a large golden roundel of about seventy centimeters in diameter, of solid gold that glittered blinding whoever dared to look at it without Faith making it very difficult for everyone to participate in this great festivity of a miracle. It was a solid gold medallion bearing the stigma of Mariah mother of the Messiah, supplanting all ship anchors so that the ship would represent the base of devotion at sea as a sign of closeness to the Messiah by pulling faith forward. one..., so that in a period longer than that which needs to be released back into the sea as a gold-bearing weight, rather as a refuge to save us in the perfect mathematics of collecting it, what is night and obscurantism that succumbs more than the self-personalization of duties when presiding over human desires, transfiguring them in the diaphanous dawn as time and space assigned to the numeral in its perfect science of finding oneself with the medallion, which has always been in sublime crushing cognition and..., continuing to exist without the need to pull the anchor again..., but rather to pull the gold medallion for seven consecutive days that it would take them to reach Jaffa after releasing the moorings in Limassol. Just as everyone was stupefied, falling all the not being able to see more, or perhaps not having more to say about the trick that could be conjugated with the space where the fleeting beams of light emitted by the auric sphere intruded, as in the house of Affliction of Betania, attracting everyone with great love to feel anointed by the aroma of their heads. The apostle understood that the path of the wise senility of the books of wisdom and Saint Luke was approaching them, to impregnate in everything created well granted to spread it from the matrix that interprets and faithfully delegates it in the application of his work. Vernarth describes: "Jesus calms the storm..." When Jesus entered the boat, his disciples followed him. And suddenly a great storm arose on the sea so that vast flat waves in that rush covered the boat; Jesus was asleep. And coming to him, they woke him up saying: Lord, save us, we perish! And He said to them: Why are you frightened men of little faith? Then he got up, rebuked the winds and the sea, and a great calm ensued. And the men marveled, saying: Who is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him? - Mateo 8 - exhibiting this passage in the Othón showing that event the god Aiónus when he rubbed the Ibico I, and the one that would come from Leonardo Da Vinci. "Leonardo Da Vinci "Last Supper Passage" Then you will have your brother Aaron come to you from among the children of Israel and with him his sons to serve me as priests: Aaron, with Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar, sons of Aaron. And you shall make holy garments for your brother Aaron for glory and beauty. And you shall speak to all the skilled craftsmen, whom I have filled with the spirit of wisdom, and they shall make Aaron's garments to consecrate him, so that he may serve me as a priest. These are the garments that they will make: a breastplate, an ephod, a robe, a checkered tunic, a tiara, and a belt; and they shall make sacred garments for your brother Aaron and for his sons, so that they may serve me as priests. And they will take for it the gold and the blue, purple and scarlet cloth, and the fine linen. They will also make the ephod of gold, blue, purple, and scarlet cloth, and fine twisted linen, the work of a skillful craftsman. It will have two shoulder pads that meet at its two ends so that they can be joined. And the skillfully woven belt that will be on it will be of the same work of the same material: of gold, blue, purple, and scarlet cloth, and of fine twisted linen. And you shall take two onyx stones, and engrave on them the names of the children of Israel: six of the names on one stone, and the remaining six names on the other stone according to the order of their birth." "In the biblical symbology of the Apocalypse, the number seven is recurrent and therefore there were seven apostles chosen by Leonardo da Vinci. Saint John the Apostle says: The Last Supper tells me the greatest love of having it close as if I were in my house celebrating, gathered to stamp the facts in which I raised the cut of my bread towards the millennium of the future, to classify all the dates that It will commemorate us united in the sustenance that will feed the Earth forever and ever. In the stigma of this medallion, I will revive all my memories before arriving in Jaffa, before even walking anymore in the solitude that haunts us forever and ever, still not understanding by any measure, the crumbling and disordered existence that passes beyond death that is reborn in our non-existent Faith. They all sail in silence, all asleep on the deck around the medallion that did not stop shining and bathing them all in its splendid theology. All lie asleep and hypnotized with pleasure, the ship moved alone, at the will of the sacred wind that carried them in seventh silence, so that the snorting shoes of the night do not wake them up even a seventh sleep next to the solid gold medallion. Eurydice was still in the happy mask, now to lead everyone in peace, towards the meeting of the apostle's ancestors, towards the dawn of the secular dawn in Jaffa on its seventh sleepless night..., when they arrive at the seventh turn of the clouds in their fading weather with Aiónous and Zeus, being mere spectators of the tormented bullet of riddled lost. All lie asleep and hypnotized with pleasure, the ship moved alone, at the will of the sacred wind that carried them in seventh silence, so that the snorting shoes of the night do not wake them up even a seventh sleep next to the solid gold medallion. Eurydice was still in the happy mask, now to lead everyone in peace, towards the meeting of the apostle's ancestors, towards the dawn of the secular dawn in Jaffa on its seventh sleepless night..., when they arrive at the seventh turn of the clouds in their fading weather with Aiónous and Zeus, being mere spectators of the tormented bullet of riddled lost. All lie asleep and hypnotized with pleasure, the ship moved alone, at the will of the sacred wind that carried them in seventh silence, so that the snorting shoes of the night do not wake them up even a seventh sleep next to the solid gold medallion. Eurydice was still in the happy mask, now to lead everyone in peace, towards the meeting of the apostle's ancestors, towards the dawn of the secular dawn in Jaffa on its seventh sleepless night..., when they arrive at the seventh turn of the clouds in their fading weather with Aiónous and Zeus, being mere spectators of the tormented bullet of riddled lost.

Jaffa  Ioannis regression

Describes Vernarth: On a warm morning, archaeological evidence showed that Jaffa was inhabited around 7,500 BC. C. The natural port of Jaffa has been used since the early Bronze Age, and all of its early inhabitants were probably Canaanites. The city of Jaffa is mentioned in a 1470 BC preterite writing from ancient Egypt glorifying the conquest by Pharaoh Tuthmosis III who hid armed warriors in large baskets and then presented them to the city's Canaanite governor. Jaffa is mentioned in the Torah as one of the Hebrew cities of the Tribe of Dan and hence the term Gush Dan is used today for the coastal plain. Many descendants of Dan lived along the coast and made a living as sailors and sailors. In "Deborah's Song" the fortune-teller asks:" Why do you want Dan to stop me on ships? After the Canaanite and Philistine *******, King David and his son Solomon conquered Jaffa using its port to take the cedars used for the construction of the First Temple from the city of Tire (2nd Chronicles 2:16). The city remained in the hands of the Jews even after the division of the Kingdom of Israel. In 701 BC C., in the days of King Hezekiah and Assyrian King Sennacherib who invaded the Jaffa region. It is also the place where the prophet Jonah sailed for Tarshish (Book of Jonah 1:3) and was the port of entry for the cedars of Lebanon for the Second Temple in Jerusalem (Book of Ezra 3:7). After a period of Babylonian occupation, defeated King Porus at the Battle of Hydaspes (326 to.C.) In the New Testament it is related how Peter resurrected the believer Tabitha (Dorcas, in Greek, gazelle) in Joppa (Jaffa) and later, how near this city he has a vision in which Yahveh told him that he should not distinguish between Jews and Gentiles while ordering the removal of ritual food (kosher) restrictions followed by Jews. While Vernarth was describing all this history, everyone was paying attention, the beautiful situation of entering Jaffa in this thousand-year-old port was imminent so that they could touch the Holy Land with their feet with all the avatars that awaited them. Vernarth had this great preamble and gift to return from the Exile of Saint John due to his exile of him dictated by Emperor Domitian. They all came praying in the ship Eurydice left the figurehead to descend and move with them to Jerusalem. To go through the Lithostrotos, Gethsemane, the Via Dolorosa, Gólgotha, the Holy Sepulcher and many sacred places where the apostle had a correlation with the Messiah..., bordering were still in the hosts of all those who loved him, especially in the locality where they met with the apostles after the crucifixion in the Apostolic Sees where they are still seen to be together from the first day forever and ever. Some put foot in its pages to have been founded by one or more of Jesus' Apostles who are said to have dispersed from Jerusalem sometime after Jesus' crucifixion (c. 26-36), probably after the Great Commission. The early Christians met in small private houses known as paleo-Christian house churches, but the entire Christian community of a city could also attribute it to the fact that it would be called and ignored as an act of sedition to avoid misunderstandings with its anti-Romanesque legacy. In Limassol it dawned one day when another day was setting in Lod..., here they all got ready to have dinner together in a wheel of fire in the tents moved by a breath that reaches and bounces from their sallow tents to the walls of Jerusalem sensing that they came and went already with the Saint accompanying them. From the last dizziness of the sun, Uriel appeared to them telling them...: "On the bottom where a ship is born in some ruins and catacombs, the sentinels of the Limassol Medallion will reside, it will be jealously guarded by my peers Christian Gladiators of Kourion who are preserved in my fragmentary and honorific decrees, as well as in epitaphs. In neo diplomacy supporting Alexander the Great and Bucephalus protecting the Medallion. In the west of the river Lycus, the sentinels will go to the bottom of the sea every day to watch over it so that from here they shelter the Medallion with their tricks, which in such a way will be adopted for meritorious scriptural phraseology in the Walls of Jerusalem where other walls will follow it... Vernarth describes: "The Great Commission; Matthew 28:19-20 contains what is known as "the Great Commission": "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit; teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you, and behold, I am with you every day until the end of the world." Jesus gave this commandment to the apostles shortly before he ascended to Heaven and essentially describes what Jesus expected the apostles and those who followed them to do in His absence. It is delightful to see that in the original Greek the only specific command in Matthew 28:19-20 is to "make disciples". The Great Commission commands us to make disciples as we move through the world and as we go about our daily business. How are we to make disciples? Baptizing them and teaching them everything that Jesus commanded. "Make disciples" is the mandate of the Great Commission. "As you go," "baptize," and "teach" are means by which we fulfill the mandate to "make disciples." Many understand Acts 1:8 as also part of the Great Commission, "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." The Great Commission is enabled by the power of the Holy Spirit. We are to be Christ's witnesses fulfilling the Great Commission in our cities (Jerusalem) our states and countries (Judea and Samaria) and anywhere else God sends us (to the ends of the earth). The great commission it is the instruction of the resurrected Jesus Christ to his venerable apostles commissioning them to propagate his teachings to all the nations of the world. The most famous version of the Great Commission is Matthew 28: 18-20 where on a mountain in Galilee Jesus commands his followers to baptize all nations in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Even more than the Great Commission of the twelve apostles that together with that of Matthew and Mark as a lofty counterpoint are dividing twin souls among all to take the electro cathode of the god Azofar de Vernarth in the Parousia (In the second coming of Christ). Together with them, the electromagnetic Fides Pronus "Benevolent Faith" ruled by God ruling in the electro anode flow, giving ample way to the Great Universal Commission. The Apostle Saint John reinterprets it: "The Great Commission is Matthew 28:18-20, and later synoptic gospels, Luke also presents Jesus sending disciples during his ministry sending them to all nations and giving them power over demons including the Seventy disciples. The scattering of the Apostles in the traditional ending of Mark is believed to be a second-century summary based on Matthew and Luke." Everyone heard very astonished words so fluted without being able to go out and harmonize the ears of those who were there..., and there was no room for doubts or questions! Everyone thought to travel all the fields of the world in caravans of free ungulates so many times through the Holy Land, thus thinking of changing history for the flat legs of camelids, changing the dynamic quantum geography thus making them participate and go on a being from which we are divided mounted. In exile it would be fulfilled, Twelve camels came and invited them to get on and rest on their backs. Every hundred kilometers the deepest questions were answered by the camelids Saying...: Camelids say: "I carried San Juan on my ciliated membranous backs and Mateo too..., they never knew that I knew the end of the story..., that the Great Commission It would never end because all of us are witnesses and we continue wandering through the desert hoping to see the Master lighting our starry path of gifts on sacred nights to serve him again, Until the End of the Parousia...

Second Miracle  Holy sepulcher

When migrating the Wailing Wall on a Vigil Friday, the Apostle led some camels with his hands sheltered in reverberating Psalmody. The little animals appeared with him in this basilica, also hand in hand with Vernarth, Etréstles, and the others remained waiting at the threshold of the Anastasis. The ungulates were already without the blindfold on their eyes after having crossed the Door of Mercy or Golden Gate. The atmosphere was hermetic and charged as if it were pouring rain and the pilgrims were oppressed to take refuge in the heat of the candles on sacred ground. A reverberating solemn psalmody begins to permeate the unruly walls recalling the chants in this place similar to Golgotha ​​that reminded Saint John of having traveled it with the Messiah. Prince Uriel with super senses was out of tune with the Vexilla Regis, by the time the apostle had crossed the limen of this holy offertory in such a way that the harmonics were now in tune vibrating in a single nearby wave..., towards the demarcation that concentrates the line to the crypt of the Messiah.Etréstles was accompanied by Eurydice on his side, visibly overexcited, from the height of the ship a light falls on Etréstles's shoulder with an itching mass of flower of authentic flower of the Pampano Diadem of the vine leaf in Nazareth. On a Friday that dressed in Sunday gala that entered with bouquets in their palms, in volumes larger than their size, dragging them across the sacred floor of the basilica, all naked of ego and anxiety, submerged in a reigning and mournful regret of the predestined demagoguery of the faithfulness of not being channeled together with the souls of purgatory that from today refloat with the visit of the Saint, remaining in seen and not perceived multiplied more than any day without having been more close to the Messiah, although the days were only swampy darkness from the flesh of Acheron in this river of pain forking from the said Acheron unleashed in the deplored underworld, like an unhealthy marsh within a desolate landscape with downcast angels ruling in the little cloud of the splinter of thick Incense, where the ferryman Charon would take the souls of recently deceased expurgated to the repugnant quagmire. Sovereign she... Virga..., would illuminate her interior with her brain-cerebellum adonis below the Madonna before reviving him again in the submissive and servile eternal gaze clause. Etréstles succumbs in genuflection three times before confirming the tertiary one that would make him uncover his knees before the long altar, here his voice is inhibited, fading from the interior like a parchment burning from the glottis to the runaway esophagus. The three hold hands with Vernarth and the Apostle..., remaining so until they enter the tomb. They encounter flattering fuss in the stone where he was anointed before being entombed, and the Cistern where he was anointed, after which his cross was found several centuries later secondarily sheltered in various Chapels whose garden is close to the skull of the rock and the emaciated Golgotha ​​mound. Very close to the Herodian wall of the city of Jerusalem and even connected to it by a road, but outside the walls since Jewish regulations prohibited intramural burials except in the case of regents. then his cross was found several centuries later, secondarily housed in various Chapels whose garden is close to the skull of the rock and the bare Golgotha ​​mound. Very close to the Herodian wall of the city of Jerusalem and even connected to it by a road, but outside the walls since Jewish regulations prohibited intramural burials except in the case of regents. then his cross was found several centuries later, secondarily housed in various Chapels whose garden is close to the skull of the rock and the bare Golgotha ​​mound. Very close to the Herodian wall of the city of Jerusalem and even connected to it by a road, but outside the walls since Jewish regulations prohibited intramural burials except in the case of regents.Your quarry and garden entity in The Calvary skull, as the Gospels testify, must be found on the outskirts of the city in an area dedicated to sepulchers. From a vast quarry for the extraction of Malaki stone located just outside the walls, and which was used from the 8th to the 1st century BC to build the buildings of the citizens. When the quarry was abandoned, this area was used for small orchards and cultivable gardens on its rocky walls along the hill, and a series of family tombs were made. Golgotha ​​itself, the "mount" on which the crosses were nailed, had to appear as the top of a higher rock separated from the hill, a suitable place for the newest law of demonstrative execution of capital punishment. Since Herod Agrippa in 41-42 AD extended the circuit of the wall of Jerusalem to the northwest, Golgotha ​​began to form part of the city, and from an isolated place over time, it became an integral part and center of the city, again Aiónius seconded this assertion before protecting the Vernarth words.   Etréstles with his Hellenic heart of Messolonghi approaches his leisurely aura below the garden, here he suppresses his icy feet towards his head of Greek innocence in flat sustained prayer, ends and gets up without being able to turn around to see him again in this garden of stones abandoned, he retires, leaving only Vernarth and the Apostle. He runs off for incredible distances, retreating miles from there to an adjoining desert area. here he suppresses his icy feet towards his head of Greek innocence in flat sustained prayer, finishes, and gets up without being able to turn around to see him again in this garden of abandoned stones, he retires leaving only Vernarth and the Apostle. He runs off for incredible distances, retreating miles from there to an adjoining desert area. here he suppresses his icy feet towards his head of Greek innocence in flat sustained prayer, finishes, and gets up without being able to turn around to see him again in this garden of abandoned stones, he retires leaving only Vernarth and the Apostle. He runs off for incredible distances, retreating miles from there to an adjoining desert area. Midbar Yehuda..., north of Jerusalem to Tiqwa, where he stays for two days before returning to Jerusalem. Being here in the middle of the desert he realizes that he had lost from one of her saddlebags a sacred image that had accompanied him since time immemorial, it had been given to him by his wife Drestnia in Koumeterium Messolonghi after her awakening. He searches for her for two days following the same path that he took from the basilica, not being able to find her, until he addresses the archangel Uriel, answering him himself. Uriel exclaims: ...On your back the offertory, a few steps in front of you the Apostle, beyond the crowd looking at you. The souls in purgatory will ask you for help, they will do it for you. You will have to give them their demands in freedom from their purges. The Messiah in miserere from the roof will come down to love on the esplanade..., on your conscience with rays and lightning he will caress your face with his host, and those who do not enter his consecration will take them to pick them up from his own hands in your lost image escorted by despondent angels whimpering and embracing you...! Etréstles, goes terrified from his Anastasis and enters the palm of the last acid words of martyrdom in prosody of the cross hammering and unrolling before his eyes in a long trail of a woven shroud, presenting him with the recolored image to be rescued by his soul from throbbing thunder with numb hands and bolt of bushy and inappropriate displays of disbelief. It would be a great miracle not to lose light in the superior lights that bring the Sun closer to your hands. In this way, a holy miracle would be fulfilled, like the ramp of the silence of the celestial karmic boomerang.

Silence  Painful way

Describes Vernarth in parapsychological regression: Silence crashed over them in such a way that it massacred them from "oblivion - oblivion" from the Limassol to Jaffa stretch. Everyone believed that they had traveled on the Eurydice, but not so. A ship that came from the Lepanto shipyard supplanted them to protect the Gold medallion anchored in the roadstead protected by the Christian Gladiators of Kourion in Lod. Everyone was calmer when they made sure that a great layer of silence overwhelmed them, forgetting as a foretaste of continuing along the Via Dolorosa. The dawn tied him to the Silent Awakening near Jerusalem on a gray and silent day. Vernarth gets up, first of all, and prepares them unleavened breakfast, honey, and goat's milk.About 3700 million years ago the first living beings appeared on Earth, they were small unicellular microorganisms not very different from current bacteria. Such cells are classified among prokaryotes because they lack a nucleus (karyon in Greek), a specialized compartment where the genetic machinery is stored. The prokaryotes achieved complete success in their development and multiplication, thanks to their remarkable capacity for evolution and adaptation, giving rise to a wide diversity of species and invading as many habitats as the planet could offer them. The biosphere would be full of prokaryotes if there had not been the extraordinary advance from which a cell belonging to a very different type arose: eukaryote, that is; It has a genuine core. In this evolutionary cellular space, they were invaded by a Vertical Silence that would have to spread throughout the troposphere and the consequences of this event marked the beginning of a new numeral linear lapse, until the consequences of this event marked the beginning of a new era. Nowadays, multicellular organisms are made up of eukaryotic cells, which are much more complex than prokaryotes. If eukaryotic cells had not appeared, the extraordinary variety, so rich in ranges, of animal and plant life on our planet would not exist now; nor would man have made an appearance to enjoy such diversity and extract its secrets. Bi similar eukaryotic cellsringed in metamorphic geological strata, pressing the atmosphere, the air and the earth, compressing the geological layers and gaseous atmospheres thatthey did not exist as a consequence of these intense pressure changes by order of the Higher Universal consciousness with overflowing temperatures and multi-chemical environments; dispersing the changes that are associated with the forces that fold on the shore of what is current Greece. Said layer faults scattered eukaryotic cells enveloped in "Silent Libertarian Material", injecting magma creating creative prominences on the attached rocks, becoming exhausted, perhaps only to be a cellular polytheism perhaps derived from multicellular cellular evolution..., turning into a sexed fusion of a great regeneration of Lithophagas species in the region..., perhaps in Colophon where Homer was infected. Well, this presumption would have to create a syncretic elaboration with that of Aristotle and Plato as eukaryotic cells, to start from this Lithophaga flower, which is rooted beneath its roots in this bivalve mollusk unleashing proto seeds of prehistoric poetic inspiration, in super souls synchronously starting each one in this mollusk plant that is thus regreened and personified, originating epic poetics in what prehistoric and the human phenotype. This hypersensitive cellular mega-complex is possible with the respect that I deserve to cite it, the innate and spontaneous hyper ethnobotany and hyper sapiens mollusks that were conceived for millions of years delegating their sublime hypostases in creation. I quote here The word Poetry from the Greek ( Poiein: "Do or Create"). From this vertical revolution, the Silence of the Via Dolorosa intrinsic to the same ontological, geological, Theological, and evolutionary concepts will emanate. Scientific and Poetic-Sacred, linked to the creation from "Nothing" to an "Everything". Everything is revealed before our backs, everything is offered before our eyes, everything comes from the soft creative wrath of lightning, everything is consecrated to silence..., but nothingness moves what the whole forgot centrifuged by phenomena of atomicity of greater forces of the Silence of the Messiah, praying in constant practice the generation in front of our theoretical faces in front of our Everything and the Nothingness of an empty supply. "Silence Waits for Time... to see,... I commend my Being to time" founds the greatest silence ever felt only heard more than an ultrasound of waves that articulate one over another in algorithmic chanting that emanate from "Mariah's Silence to her son" also to Homer, Aristotle, and Plato attached to the Lithophaga releasing Eukaryotes. When Aristotle and Plato uprooted the Lithophaga as axiomatic leaders, they revealed the Silence of Creation and poetic anathemas, alluding to their true ancestors who slipped down their bandullos like an elongated moraine sweeping their navel Samskaras such traces of their own personalities leading wisdom with an origin common prehistoric cell.

Ita *** Dolore: Saint John the Apostle stood up in silence with profuse deafness even in spirit..., all the others were equally traumatized from feeling the stones engraved with fear and pain "Ita *** Dolore". They didn't see in colors everything was gray and shades of white, black between cells..., like being inside the suffering cell lost of all consciousness. Everyone confuses about their clothes, their outfits, nobody knew who each one was, only Vernarth and San Juan knew. Raeder and Petrobus, Alikanto, and Eurídice only wandered sleepwalking along the rocky road in the cobbled streets flanked by works erected from sobbing Malaki material, from stones very similar to those that Jesus would have seen following this pristine route. The Stations of the Cross were marked by plaques, vaulted chapels, and signs along the way of lacerating and flagellant stops of more than forty degrees of burning in each feverish step and enclosed vaulting.

Ellipse Messiahas a child: "Mother...; when I went up the stairs..., I stopped at the fourteenth step..., in perfect mathematics opening the sky..., like a sacrosanct aromatic book; Well, I thought you would believe me dressed there! Mother when I went down the fourteen steps and put my last foot before you..., I could see how I sang in the thirty-three on a rainy Friday afternoon, clinging to you..., accompanying me along the stairs that you did not know..."

1st Station of the Cross in Silence

Ita *** Dolore, Jesus was tried and sentenced to death in the Praetorium of Pontius Pilate, he will bring silence in each interval that did not oppose resistance from the flagellant whips."Mother...; when I went up the stairs..."The apostle closes his eyes, Vernarth takes him in his arms.

2nd Station of the Cross

The second station marks where Jesus took up his cross and recalls his doom. Romans beat Jesus and the Chapel of Judgment which commemorates the site where Jesus was sentenced. Here he feels like a child... "Mother...; when I went down the stairs...?"


3rd Station of the Cross

The third station is where Jesus first fell under the weight of his cross. This station is not far from the Ecce **** (Behold the Man), Saint John remembers the Last Supper in anticipation, sitting next to him... he got up from dinner, took off his mantle, and took a towel, he girded himself.... "Mother...; when I went up the stairs..."

4th Station of the Cross

The fourth station marks where Mary saw her son pass by. The 19th-century Armenian Church of Our Lady marks this station. Deaf Vernarth manages to hear voices from heaven saying: "Mother...; when I came down from the ladder...?"

5th Station of the Cross

At the fifth station, the Roman soldiers instructed Simon of Cyrene to help Jesus carry his cross (Luke 23). ..., "Mother I stopped at the fifth step and I never hesitated to wash your feet"

6th Station of the Cross

The sixth station marks where Veronica wiped Jesus' face with her veil. It is believed that the image of the face of Jesus was imprinted on the cloth."Mother...; when I went down the stairs you covered my sweaty face..."

7th Station of the Cross

At the seventh station, Jesus faltered under the weight of the cross for the second time. "Mother...; when I climbed the ladder..., I saw the lost mountain..."

8th Station of the Cross

The eighth station is where the "daughters of Jerusalem weep for Jesus" (Luke 23, 27). Jesus stopped here to comfort the women, telling them not to weep for him, but for themselves and their children.."Mother...; when I went down the stairs you were not there, you were coming for me..."

9th Station of the Cross

At the ninth station, Jesus faltered a third time before his final ascent to Golgotha. "Mother...; When I went up the stairs to find you, you were in front of me..."

9th-14th Stations of the Cross

The Stone of Anointing is believed to have been where Jesus was placed after being taken from the cross. Here he would have been prepared for burial. The Bible tells us that Jesus' body was wrapped in linen and anointed with oils and spices in accordance with Jewish funeral rites. "Mother...; when I went down the stairs you covered me from the cold and wrapped me with your passion..."


The 14th Station of the Cross – The Tomb of Christ

Here Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth were still deaf, but with slight symptoms of recovery of their hearing. They saw in front of them how deaf angels came to uncover their auditory channels, being of their intuition proclaiming courage to accompany them with their teacher to the aedicule towards the crypt itself granted by José de Arimathea. The Chapel of the Angel contains a small piece of the rock that closed the burial cave of Christ, the chapel that leads to the tomb itself. It was here that Jesus was buried and rose three days after his death. "This small rectangular structure of the Edicule marks the end of the Via Dolorosa and the Deafness of everyone and the Whole World"

Saint Ioannis Song of the Messiah, Vernarth describes by the voice of Saint John the Apostle: "Since the beginning of Samaria I had my father Zebedeo in my manifestations..., my mother Salomé and brother apostle Santiago together with me in my declared voice. My father as a fisherman if he saw us grow and left us in the boat after the Messiah called us believing he would not see us grow anymore! My father lived in Bethsaida and developed his commercial activity on the Sea of ​​Galilee or Tiberias, together with us between Capernaum and Bethsaida I walked escorted by the voices of the silence of freedom; Said peace prostrated me to monuments that oscillate on the invisible wings of the legions asking me to join their hand in hand for hours..., and in great circles, since I got on the boat flooded with Faith with the Master. This is what I call seeing the homonymous village located on the western shore of this sea become its monument of silence and the heritage of the House of Fishing in Bethsaida. I always knew that my father had a parental agreement with the Master, being my uncle since my mother Salomé has been identified as the sister of our Mariah.From Capernaum, since I walked and grew up among nets, boats and from where six others accompanied me as my brothers and fellow apostles. Thus, natives, we give our seals and predilections to the Lord for navigating us in the divine water of the Jordan, here I was a fisherman and brother of the fish that also spoke for me..., for the proverbs that identify my closeness with the family lineage of Capernaum. Jesus from the depths of his being with his throat upwards called Santiago and me "sons of thunder" for our impetuous character that was revealed in some events reported in others. The two of us together with San Pedro..., constituted the most intimate core of the master. I was favored by those who reserved my presence with the ****** Mariah where she was trembling in her clothes at the foot of the cross when our Father Master Messiah died, drawing us closer to all of us from that day further than we thought could protest. In this epithet now is where I point to the one who invited me to his boat in Skalá, Patmos; "Vernarth", also a son of the Lord, invited me to return to my original land. Always from Patmos He kept sending me, I received messages at the crossroads of the winds and through anagrams on the tail of the fish..., in their mouths in Aramaic, so that they could be brought from where my roots fill your abundant fish farming..., a common rhizome that in his parables they hear him, that from his brambles the crickets boil in his golden presence, golden passion, and golden agony even me looking at him with my eternal eyes with my painful eyes of apocalypse crying..., even seeing how I went with him to Golgotha ​​in his arms, imitating him in his courage more than in himself and in all those who did not see him leave." "Far away in my exile sentenced by Domitian, I wrote the Gospel and their epistles in Ephesus and the Apocalypse on Patmos, in the Aegean. Both in our Gospel and in the prophetic visions of the Apocalypse, I was invaded by the high-altitude doctrinal and symbolic language of the passages next to the Master. I was the eagle evangelizing, flying in terror to Patmos, and I know that your eagle will take me to Ephesus to sleep in the gospel of the Lord eternally." "I was never a child, I was always who I am if I was a child..., only my parents managed to see it because I was already sitting as if I were in the same Transfiguration, Pentecost, with the daughter of Jairus, in Lake Tiberias and in his miraculous departure in Gethsemane." "I was always who I am..., I never felt that my bones grew in proportion to the distances that would allow me to walk faster than an Eagle, but not so in my parents who did not see my leafy feet of plumage, Next Reign of Jesus of Nazareth in a kind of apology I will be for him again as a child recognizing him even as present and future Father" here he was housed in these Othóns or quantum Azofar screens, guaranteeing him to be federated to his inheritance for the centuries to come. Christian Itheoi genus. Vernarth looks at him and hugs him for a long time, everyone else does the same. They leave Capernaum to start their way through innumerable routes to Nazareth, trying to find a new path but a Golden Eagle or Gerakis appeared to them telling them where to go next...it would probably be where the Master went through the dedications on an INRI wood...where thousands of eagles would pose his claws containing his bleeding..., more than a "Meta-language reigning in all Believers of attachment sustained in his shroud" as I did, perhaps singing in conspicuous languages ​​that would meet him more than an expert, more than a language close to the zeal that covered us, dismantling itself from the friendly path that sustained us, shortening its objective. Our mission is to meet the ancestors of Maryah and her Sigil, which floods with essences towards her son,



Paraps XXV

Messiah of Judah II part

Miracle III - Nazareth

Parapsychological regression, Vernarth describes by the voice of the Apostle Saint John: "They all came from Capernaum with the embedded shutters of INRI in their hands, Alikantus in their hooves and Petrobus in their webbed golden fingers. Everyone walked unevenly perhaps because from the Higher Consciousness the Abba had leaned towards the south center towards the west tilting the earth twelve degrees which made him change course to Nazareth. The miraculous thing was to see how the animals Petrobus and Alikanto felt them and saw euphonies coming out of their mouths in octaves multiplied by eight; that is to say, sixty-four inverted notes, averaging the notes that arrived the other way around from being heard in their retro melody, perhaps diverting them to a hillside in Canaan. After such a miraculous phenomenon, the golden eagles perched on the heads of the twelve ungulates, diverting them to Nazareth and guiding them to an ancient stone where the inscriptions in Hebrew-Aramaic "Stem-Branch" can be seen. They were sweating on their Gigas camels like Nazarene princes reigning in consolation by forking like the ground even beyond the two-dimensional concept of Nazareth, either a stem proclaiming the ominous prophetic of the Messiah or proclaiming the Renewal in sacred circulation to have a 360 ° perspective, for the ancient worldview being housed as a perfect clone on the geography of Nazareth in 14.14 square km, based on the southern mountains of Lower Galilee, 10 km north of Mount Tabor and 23 km west of the Sea of ​​Galilee. Miracles must be outlined between the extreme points of each cross..., the stature of the image between foot and head, the cosmogony of the link between Nazareth, Capernaum, and vice versa, mysteries of the silence of those who only see in light and dark of Marian repentance, would be now in front of everyone with the Credulity Gene. The Giga Camels carried them tenaciously with their wise feet from Capernaum. Here is the Miracle; They were at the fourteenth station in Jerusalem, which St. Ioannis later explained in his childhood memoirs with his family in Bethsaida. It was then from here that in some bend of its inspiration that the valleys would turn towards another geological family to present it at the table with renewed olive oils together with its parents. Where they would leave directly guided by the royal eagles towards the stone of Nazareth. Describes Vernarth in the voice of Saint John: "The Archangel Uriel dictates him; those who preach alone in the streets or corners preach the rejection of those who do not count how many times they were approved or challenged, and at least the times that more than any extreme had to be heard beyond the most distant hiding places in which they did not they will be able to know to be recognized" Saint John continues: "On this tacit diameter in the narrow part of the bergamot that is towards the south and opens through a narrow and sinuous throat towards the plain of Esdraelón. It would be pointed out here as "the top of the mountain" from where they wanted to throw Jesus off the cliff. But the traditional place does not have a true ravine, as a story would seem to require. Further only to a spring in the town is the so-called Fountain of the ****** where Mariah obtained the consecrated water for her family from there. "In this super diameter, Etréstles wanted to find the childhood periods of the Messiah and thus be able to see him advance in his growth, but he knew that perhaps the hidden mystery of the stem that only grows in the discord of Nazareth, invaded by foreign civilizations, could not be verified. that did not allow them to stretch boundaries beyond the entire concordant Universe. In Patmos I always had the precognition that above..., above the doors of the unknown..., there must be anti-material physiognomies that will move offspring that in twin lands would be housed in Judah. As we approached the perimeter of the city we dared to cross, whose text contains the decree issued by another Roman emperor not mentioned, which prohibits under pain of death the robbery of tombs including those of relatives or changing a body from one tomb to another. The date of registration is discussed. Someplace it at the beginning of the empire period; others in s. II AD It is highly unlikely that they have any direct relation to the ignoble accusation leveled at us disciples that we had stolen our Master's body. I keep digressing without the accuracy of what I say, it's been tens of years without being here, I only know that I am attracted by the rhythm of the music of religious worshipers from Nazareth. just as I heard when they were at the height of a rosy vine near Mariah's house in Nazareth..., here Uriel describes Nicodemus: Uriel says: (Meditation of Saint John the Apostle) "Nicodemus talks about the meaning of being born again and mentions the Kingdom of the Heavens, very rare in the Johannine texts, Jesus was surprised in short to see that a teacher in Israel did not understand the discourse on rebirth in the spirit. Later, in the council of chief priests and Pharisees, Nicodemus defends Jesus, explaining to his companions that they must listen and investigate before making a final judgment. The question they ask him may imply that Nicodemus was a Galilean or it could be an irony of his companions." I'm still on my own from today rambling without accuracy in what I say..., it's been tens of years without being here, I only know that the rhythm of the music of the religious cults of Nazareth will attract me. These images will make me observe Vernarth notice in me and in all these advanced episodes, this is transmitted by Saint John the Apostle. Eurydice took note and dared to dance in the warm senses that throbbed under her feet, signaling to renew herself in an Offshoot of the seed that grows hidden in the shortness of every Nazarene born here.Expressions of freedom and glory appear throughout the village the world dances in the part of the ministerial bends attached to the Holy Spirit. Flowing dance ministered by Levites and worshipers of the Lord God Almighty God or Yahweh in a spontaneous way, salvific and with healing interweaving the existential and vernacular ribs of the chosen people worshiping the Prophet. All danced together and anointed, enjoying the ceremony. Vernarth thought his magical ears thundered with Levitical echoes as he was under the supra-starry sky of the Christian world that repeated itself, returning with a new one appearing at each interval of the festivities, everyone did them as they came and went with the pillars of their Faith rolling, and they covered with the mantle of the night flooded with ceremonial Vines and ministerial Bread like a great vault in a great ominous mansion. Here where the Messiah from heaven will trepan his senses, Feeling emotion and art, all braiding like alpha beginners until finishing the stupid omega dance. We will fulfill a company of prophets descending from above preceded by lutes, drums, flutes, and harps. Thus the sons and daughters will be celebrating with Cherubim in unmistakable steps praising Him.This Hebrew-Biblio dance will end in adoration on a warm night that continues to reach the imperceptible senses where everyone celebrates and intertwines with trans content affection with everyone celebrating in the ceremony. Then they went to the tents near the Messiah's house to sleep concelebrating in tiny circles. Everyone was very excited..., not being able to fall asleep believing not believing that perhaps they would never again live something like this in a city forever whether to live it or not..., eating and drinking the same Nazarene Bread and Wine. All this was closely witnessed by the god Nothofagus in the middle of some brambles, it has adhered to the fungi that persisted in the brilliant brilliance to personify them in the Genus Itheoi. Hanukkah was coming to Vernarth, it was the Liberation of Judah as another purpose of Vernarth's physical and parapsychological regression in the arms of Hanukkah, purging his spiritual body to leave his Piece of Muscle rubbed on the helpless ground, perhaps carrying his non-biodegradable shell matter in his Leonatus; as a new prince replacing Alexander the Great in the true Hellenic polis adopted and claimed on the soil of Judah. On the walls of air in Gaugamela, I sliced ​​with my Xiphos and Kopis leaving them now dry and sheathed..., to serve Saint John the Apostle and our Lord in the work of the Messiah. For this, we have been revived as inclemency in this festivity of the former Hetairoi strategist of the hosts of the Great Alexander the Great. For this task when they left Nazareth, When it arrives under the finger of Nablus, it is intercepted by these voracious sacred lights coming from the Abrahamic eras, perhaps from Lot in his cave to immunize his offspring. Also known as the "Festival of Lights or Luminaries". This Jewish festival of lights commemorates the rededication of the Second Temple in Jerusalem and the Maccabean rebellion against the Seleucid Empire. Celebrated for eight days, the Hanukkah festival dates back to the time of Hellenic hegemony in Israel, beginning with the conquests of Alexander the Great in 332 BC. C., who at his passing freed the Jewish people from the oppression of Persia, leaving Israel as an independent kingdom-state. After his death, the vast empire remained in the hands of his generals, who entered into war conflicts with each other, for which centuries later the Seleucid Greeks tried to gain control of the region, as can be read in the books of I and II Maccabees, where this festivity commemorates the defeat of the Hellenes and the recovery of Jewish independence at the hands of the Maccabees over the Greeks of the Seleucus dynasty, and the subsequent purification of the Second Temple of Jerusalem from pagan icons, in the 2nd century BC. C. Vernarth, was here as a commander when he freed them from the boot of the Persians, remembering the epic of him when he was a servant of the oppressed legions. He thus freed them forming part of this history which has threads of messianic history and culture cracking gaps for evangelization, that looms under the robes of El Nazareno like a child's story..., to be told to adults with nine Hanukkah candles. Jewish tradition speaks of a miracle in which the temple candlestick could be lit for eight consecutive days with a meager amount of oil that was only enough for one. This gave rise to the main custom of the festivity, which is to progressively light a nine-armed candlestick called Hanuquiá, one for each of the days plus a pilot arm. Vernarth describes: "Our Entry into the soil of Judah..., as luminaries we were received, our messianic introduction will change history in its objectivism freeing the Hebrews from the Persian empire. Inopportune were the new masses of the departure of Alexander the Great who, after freeing them, his minions wanted to appropriate a free inheritance that only belongs to Yahweh. Seleucus, being an officer appointed by Alexander the Great, was appointed chief of the Hypaspists (elite soldiers and spearmen) on a date close to 330 BC. C., for this reason, I looked many times at your countenances, seeing in them the voracity and anti-national vocation to exorbitant the limits of unwary power. This is why in the death of our great general..., Seleucus tried to dominate Judah, skillfully raising the exhumation of the general pointing to a drastic change by pointing his finger at the transgressor! Being justly consummated and deported by the Maccabees. Festival of Lights Celebration of Dedication and Celebration of the Maccabees. Children receive gifts, especially in areas where Jewish and Christian children are in close contact. Hanukkah commemorates the victory of the Maccabees over the Syrians as well as the re-dedication of the Second Temple in Jerusalem around 165 BC. The re-dedication was necessary because the Seleucid king of Syria, Antiochus IV Epiphanes had desecrated the temple by installing an altar to Zeus on the site. When the Maccabees began to prepare the temple for rededication they found that they only had enough oil to light it for one night. In the end, the oil lasted eight days until the new delivery of the new consecrated resource, the candles are lit every night of Hanukkah to commemorate the miracle. During the first night, a candle is lit in a special candlestick called a menorah or hanukkiah. Here Reaeder with Petrobus joined this beautiful festivity, paying special attention to the Dreidel pirinola, which seemed very didactic among the game that captured their full attention. Eurydice and Etrestles holding a candlestick in each hand would begin the second night by adding a candle until eight candles were reached on the last night. The candles are lit by a separate candle called a shamash here was Alikanto and Vernarth with Saint John the Apostle lighting it first and then using it to light the other candles. The candles are installed in the menorah from right to left but are lit from left to right. A symbol of Hanukkah is the dreidel, a pirinola with which a game is played. Before the Maccabean Revolt, it was illegal for people to read the Torah under Antiochus IV Epiphanes, when the soldiers arrived the Jews pretended to play a game of chance involving a pirinola. They satiated traditional Hanukkah foods such as latkes or potato pancakes fried in oil as another way to incorporate the memory of the Maccabees free from all invaders, predicting more light than their own Sun.This is how they would culminate this festivity among themselves, in Nablus before reaching Bethlehem south through the desert with their twelve Giga camels..., the luminaries would take them camping through the Nablus desert south to Bethlehem.

Bethlehem ******, Hemophilic Camel so Vernarth describes: "They were falling down a ***** typified as a rebellion of angels. In such a disorder, they have seen a new language and numeral concept. Given before the componential of Steeds, Pelicans, Masked Nymph, Leader of Messolonghi Cemeteries, Vernarth Commander Hetairoi and Saint John the Apostle, wading through the desert of Nablus on mission ****** and the Giant Camels, the twelfth and last of them afflicted with the morbid sin. ****** or ******; is the name of the biblical character described as the son of ***, son of Cam who was the son of Noah. Although the Bible does not mention him directly since ancient times, tradition has considered ****** as the builder of the Tower of Babel. Since the tower was built on his territory and during his reign, it is assumed that it was under his direction that the construction began. But there are also other non-biblical sources, which indicate the opposite, alleging that ****** was not in the region of Shinar when the construction began. His name became proverbial as a "mighty hunter in opposition to YHWH (Jehovah)" His kingdom comprised Babel (Babylon), Erech (Uruk), Accad (Akkad), and Calneh in the land of Shinar also known as the land of ******" Vernarth replied: "They came and went, dragging their ancient Palestinian and Hebrew feet..., helped by ****** to understand and adore each other "When they were on the road from Nablus on the carpets of Kfar Tapuach, a hemophilic effusion occurred in one of their Giant Camels that accompanied them so separated from the remaining eleven, remaining in the hands of Saint John the Apostle. "From that moment on seeing how the camel was bleeding, the apostle falls into a trance remembering the annunciation that will have to take place in the whirlpool of biblical time when they arrive at Bethlehem." The Angel Gabriel will reincorporate right here when he said to Mary: "Do not be afraid, Mariah, because you have found grace before God; you will conceive in the womb and give birth to a son, whom you will name Jesus." Then the Camel turned around and said...:"I will be there..., seeing his short feet and his long crying confusing them at night in those who are jealous of him for his smiles of an infant of seven..." The camel in telepathy transmits to Saint John: "All of us have a long road ahead of us, the road of life that we have to follow day after day. Today it flows strongly in me, unable to stop my torrent like my previous parents who were never able to cross Palestinian land. I represent the line of Gigas Camels guides since the angel Gabriel spoke to Mary; For this reason and because I am an energetic guide on the path of life leading the chosen ones of the Messiah. With challenges of long distances and terrain with adverse spiritual conditions, that is why I have inherited the ancient blood that has traveled over my Palestine and Hebrew. Biblical time... It has determined in me that so much blood has been shed since the Messiah left for the House of our God, that being a camelid in flower every two years when this hemophilia crisis hits me, incarnating in others the sins that will be amortized with his body and his blood. My liver belongs to my Palestinian masters, they eliminate the viruses in my body but the healthy genes are Hebrew and remain in me for a short time until dawn. My time is more than the southern time process is the southern temple opening it on my consciousness of the pages of the Bible "Before the stakes of the World come out of the straps that hold it..." that being a camelid in flower every two years when this hemophilia crisis hits me, incarnating in others the sins that will be amortized with his body and his blood. My liver belongs to my Palestinian masters, they eliminate the viruses in my body but the healthy genes are Hebrew and remain in me for a short time until dawn. My time is more than the southern time process is the southern temple opening it on my consciousness of the pages of the Bible "Before the stakes of the World come out of the straps that hold it..." that being a camelid in flower every two years when this hemophilia crisis hits me, incarnating in others the sins that will be amortized with his body and his blood. My liver belongs to my Palestinian masters, they eliminate the viruses in my body but the healthy genes are Hebrew and remain in me for a short time until dawn. My time is more than the southern time process is the southern temple opening it on my consciousness of the pages of the Bible "Before the stakes of the World come out of the straps that hold it..." Saint John the Apostle replies: Few words and numbers are rolled from Nablus, they will be decoded by ******..., collecting the months so that we can see an increase in the proteins responsible for blood coagulation and in the reconciliation of the Palestinian-Hebrew world. This treatment will actually heal his hemophilia with both fatherlands in me, not only by treating him and reducing the bleeding but to pay for the sins of these salty nations already prophesied for our salvation that the Messiah judged.Saint John, taking the leg of the Giga Camel, caresses him..., he makes a gesture not to feel pain, but as an anti-death, he begins to heal his wound, covering himself with flowers of the Hebrew spring. A candid and volatile mass of Rose of Saron petals settled on the camel's leg. While Vernarth tried and helped him cut off a certain portion of his leg. But a miraculous fusion flower occurs that is mixed in its leg and from the same stem of the flower, regenerating the gangrenous part of the Giga camel..., in a great time of the Temple growing in God forgiving the Palestinian and Christian sins, juxtaposed to their illnesses almost being guests of a crippled scientific metaphor..., but much more Christian Salvific. The camel recovers and they put out the fires, they continue through the desert on the carousel of the camel's parents' lullaby, singing tenderly to their son camel, that they would never leave him alone and that his words were restored and decoded by ******'s command to his ears. Not far from Him, with words and strange Palestinian neologies and numbers of the Menorah lit up to the right. Shortly thereafter to reach Bethlehem, almost like synchronizing the magical steps under a star that heals and renews all the meat of the camels in the human world, before being listed to the eternal wind of the native village of the Messiah. with words and odd Palestinian neologies and numbers of the Menorah to the right lit. Shortly thereafter to reach Bethlehem, almost like synchronizing the magical steps under a star that heals and renews all the meat of the camels in the human world, before being listed to the eternal wind of the native village of the Messiah. with words and odd Palestinian neologies and numbers of the Menorah to the right lit. Shortly thereafter to reach Bethlehem, almost like synchronizing the magical steps under a star that heals and renews all the meat of the camels in the human world, before being listed to the eternal wind of the native village of the Messiah.

*** bei Hinnom  Crypto-Crucified

Following the route of Arimathea and then Emmaus with our tired feet we entered the region of the southwest towards Jerusalem, to *** Bei Hinnom specifically. Obviously, we were going to Bethlehem, but the Apostle decided to spend the night here.Vernarth speaks through the voice of the Apostle: "The open southwest gate of Jerusalem points into the valley, which came to be known as the valley of the son of Hinnom. Here the Israelite residents used to perform rites that worshiped Moloch presaging destruction. In those ancient times the Canaanites sacrificed children to the god Moloch by setting them on fire and burning them alive...; a practice that was outlawed by King Josiah when the practice disappeared, it became a city dump where garbage was incinerated, and also the carcasses of animals or those of some criminals. The dump and the fire make the metaphor to indicate that "Garbage" (disobedient) are those that burn day and night. Later, after this narration..., the Apostle took them to Mount Zion, where the coffin of King David is.

Parapsychological insert Vernarth Pandemic MMXX, comments...: (Here the god Vélus has Zefian's arrows to wear the Magaf or boot that would unleash this Antonine plague in Italy, until the resource of the MMXX in the modern world, as it was in 165 AD C.: Magaf in Hebrew means "Boot" since the quarantine began in March..., it continues to occur in Israel in a nation with a vast history of pandemics, it is that since immemorial biblical times it has always been hit by plagues, it has been a maximum in comparing it with the reality of the world that does not mutate in its virulent evolution. It has a Bota root, which could be related to social passages of the Bible in the context of Quarantine, which in Hebrew means isolation "בידוד", which has a similar root to Magaf, giving the genesis to which this apology coincidentally raised the virological expansion in Italy, suggesting its geography in the form of a "Boot" such as Italy. From where the itch of this Pandemic began to the secular world in great mortality statistics reissued in the current world. The Valley of Death exemplifies water opening, and Arab and Israelite slopes. Polytheism instituted among the archaic social networks degenerating the infallible root to which each one belongs in its independentist root of aggressive trait and autonomous to survive on themselves. Moloch or Melech, as they are called by the Jews today, is a conductive agent of overcrowding of the archaeo-cultural, practicing trades of high violent Intercultural Religious confrontation. Two intuitive cultures two nations, with different gods and languages, both walked through burning Gehenna as ancient culture in their inseparable history that tied them by invading hands in the past-present. Avodah Zarah in Hebrew: "foreign cult" is the name of a Talmudic treatise of the Nezikin order of the Mishnah and Talmud. Nezikin is the fourth-order of the Mishnah and the Talmud, Nezikin is an order dealing with the laws relating to harm. The main subject of the Avodah Zarah treaty is the laws regarding the Jews living among the Gentiles the goyim, in the treaty are included the regulations on the interaction between the Jews and the "idolaters" which represented the majority of the population not Jew or Gentile during the writing of the Babylonian Talmud. The Apostle says:"On Mount Zion I was with the master in "The Last Supper". Very close to *** Bei Hinnom, what predicts Life and Death beyond our beliefs but if it is death..., it is the angel in his consort who is accompanied by others, freeing us from the sin that we hide, crushing us in the overloaded Karma" Replies Vernarth: "beyond our paths to build..., today we are submerged in a techno-idolatry, subjugated to the trans-nationality of global networks that deliberate and trans-compete under our tutelage, with no other options than to live together avoiding slavery itself before Moloch, sacrificing our children to the altar of the aforementioned "Technotheism", giving them intelligence beyond all the valleys that force us to depend on an overwhelming social and technological electromagnetic dependency. Falling noisily backward onto a ritual hillside to plausibly be handed over to us as "Human Technological Trash." Depositing in us millions and trillions of neutrinos and radiations through universal space like that of any Mythological god, lying abandoned in time without end..., beyond Life and Fabulous Death. Or perhaps our Last Supper..., it will be very present in our daily lives in this incipient technological techno-theism, worshiping the God who will imprison us in his algorithms as a whole man, or perhaps one day be traded in Crypto-Currencies by a broker on Wall Street, to be handed over and betrayed by this Broker-Judas to our crypto-crucified collapse, paying for the sins of others burned in Gehenna, on burning garbage that we ourselves have deposited and No! emits Amblyseius: They were on the Hebrew ***** of *** Bei Hinnom preparing to sleep. Bright wells could be seen around him, once everyone tired joined their experiences around the campfire, the Apostle went with Vernarth to pray on the northeast *****. Walking in silence and with burning fear they were circulating with austere care not to fall into these imaginary wells in the fangs of the gates of hell and its crater tempting them to get lost among it..., before reaching Bethlehem Says Vernarth: "They estimated a well of seventy meters in diameter and equal in depth with high temperatures that emanated from there in a sulfur mixture..., the apostle prospected and witnessed how the earth swallowed some natural elements that were there. The most surprising thing was the gases that flowed through real Gerakis that were abducted into permeable, heavy,  and bluish monoatomic that emerged from the underground cave of some Canaanite god.Thousands of years of expectorating and having the bronze crackle of swords of justice in the "biblical blue" of a possible Hebrew tekhelet, neither I nor anyone else could recreate or imagine what it could be in itself. Random face from the time of the Second Temple, which towered over Jerusalem until it was destroyed by the Romans where a blue dye of the same name would be used to color the fabric used in the clothing of the priests..., admonishing them on its perimeter."A Jewish man who was still commanded to wear a 'tekhelet' thread in the knotted fringes of their prayer shawls, although it might seem that was left unclear for years.The source of the Tekhelet is not specified well in the. According to himTekhelet's dye is produced from a sea creature known as the Ḥillazon; which is the exclusive source of the colorant. There are three opinions in rabbinic literature as to how many are to be blue: 2 cords; 1 rope; 1 half string These strands are then threaded and hang down like tassels that appear to be eight. The four filaments are passed through a hole 25 to 50 mm away from the corners of the four corner fabric. A comparative deception has been made of trying to touch it because they looked harmless and silky when touched.Fearing that the crater would cause the appearance of apocryphal mites dressed as a priest with Tekhelet that was sustained in its physiognomy, with the escape of various dangerous natural gases determined to self-incinerate. They estimated that they would be extinguished in a few minutes, however, it has been burning for centuries and parading before curious maravedís; As precognition to the business of the Inquisition charging money to Jewish converts in exchange for rehabilitating them.Since then it has burned non-stop and provided an impressive melodrama in keeping with the creaking of the valley walls that were outside and close to the southern wall of ancient Jerusalem, also stretching from the Valley of Hinnom to the Kidron Valley. Saint John the Apostle speaks: "I will mention a Valley like that of Cedrón..., a place that our Messiah traveled as the Gospel refers to He passed with us to the other side of the Cedrón torrent where there was a garden into which he and his disciples entered. The ravine of the Cedrón valley begins northwest of Jerusalem resting on a slight depression of about twenty meters that reaches a depth of one hundred meters. The wells like a quantum leap, he rushed us into both depressions, witnessing pre-cognitive Christology..., "The henchmen took him along the Kidron Valley to the gate near the pool of Siloam; and then they scaled the steep path that led to the common palace of Annas and Caiaphas, on the height that is now called Hill Zion." We feel divine and mystical assistance that were intertwined from *** Bei Hinnom to the Kidron Valley in each depression that flowed the extradition of the Messiah, whose previous referendum would splinter his hands staked on his resonated feet and his intra rib. On the way between Gethsemane and the palace of Annas and Caiaphas, I felt an aggressive impulse pass over the bridge over the Cedrón torrent, throwing our Messiah to the bottom of the torrent where the imprints of his feet, knees, and hands were left on a very hard stone. and head" From both sites the depressions twinned the facts of geological upheavals that would cause the implosion generating noises and silences of greater size when ignoring it, by the time it began to decrease in frequency and volume heightening that would fracture with the decibel in the middle ear with total disorientation. In the Well of *** Bei Hinnom, Mites would begin to ascend Amblyseiuss wirskiique; that they are a species present in regions of Israel for that bad effect. This predatory mite was found in large colonies suspended in numerous grasslands, among them they were hidden and neighbors to the horticultural crops of Los Olivos. These crop larvae are assiduous to migrant citrus trees that spawned Cypriot whitefly larvae that came to mourn the mourning of infants under seven who were incinerated. Predating young larvae of other species by means of severed white mosquitoes. They began to radiate horror at the cries of the burning children of the time with the martyrdom that pierced the bark of the bushes entangled by this unusual phenomenon between the valleys. This colony of mites frightened the apostle and Vernarth by making them believe that fever of degenerative abundance was symptomatic in them in the flagellated human species, with whips in their tentacles degrading in tiny status between food chains, for more predation towards them and their companions that they were in the camp resting next to the warmth in the atmosphere of the unknown. Vernarth ran swiftly to open some gates that contained the doomed river, levered some stones to increase the mechanical noise on the growing colony of mites in such a way as to lessen the dominant action on the arboreal and horticultural species,

Hex Birthright

The composition of this Hexagonal primogeniture is changing by itself visiting you in this hexagonal course that is now oblong by the rays of the determined morning, inviting you to take the dry cove to Bethlehem in the company of The Apostle, Vernarth, Etréstles, Raeder and Petrobus, Eurydice and Alikantus. They get on the Giant Camels and meditate on them, it was not yet dawn, there were six camels for this hexagonal brotherhood, and the remaining six were for supplies and clothing for their retinues. They all stand in an oblique line looking towards the Valley of Hinnom and Cedrón..., waiting four minutes before the Sun appears. In each one, a legaña of balsamic acetol would begin to skim off with the generous Sun reigning on their Davidian faces. At that very moment, the King appears to them from the front, strolling through the long Davidian caravan..., in their very faces, thus stopping in their march and seeing their imploring and bronze hair like an alliance of lights on a cold morning. Davidian Presence: "There are four minutes left for us to appear in the morning twilight, it has been four hundred years since I ruled Davidian as the second of Israel, I was born in Bethlehem where I will go with you until I reach this pure oasis of the House of Bread. center of the Old Testament, I was the Eighth and last son of Jesse or Jesse, a member of one of the main families of the tribe of Judah, the prophet Samuel secretly anointed me sovereign of the Hebrews when I was just a boy taking care of his father's flocks in Belen. I have created a united and powerful nation of a markedly theocratic character, though short-lived as it vanished shortly after the death of my son Solomon; while in the religious sphere my poetic compositions stood out, "recognizing myself as the author of a total of 73 psalms", and the great project that I ordered to build a great temple in Jerusalem to house the Ark of the Covenant building that would have ***** my successor on the throne." David, get on the seventh Giga camel, and they all go in a file when four minutes fell on the sand of Northeast Jerusalem turned into burning flames in the hair of Davidian dawn. All catch their shadows with a vocalized assembly by the turquoise stripes of the Tekhelet that he carried on his Davidian skeleton. From the minimum moment that allowed him to climb his bones until he mounted the Camel on its exterior, his past became lightening of volatile blue flesh, leaving for the first sabbatical day that ran through his calendar. He tempered over him the compromising memory of him that wandered before his birth and after his death where many wanted to incinerate his Tekhelet for him, or perhaps plagiarize him in his agony with the Messiah when he met with the apostles. above his grave. Davidian Tomb: "When the Lord was over me, I felt his aroma of Davidian flowers approaching, covering my coffin with two square meters of the perimeter of my death that began to be purged in the Messiah. My body was ingested like horchata in my blood vessels. Many times I wanted to get up and break down the barriers that separated us, but I was distracted by the serpent that seized in front of me, co-indexing the apples of my tree that never got worms..., turned into brass serpents on slung chariots pulling me away from the arms of the Messiah. I saw myself at his service in nine light-years from the twelfth applicant with billions of kilometers more, that is, a quarter of light-years to reach him, estimated. My four minutes are what I aspire to reach the five that remained of my temporal origin..., to restore the last thousandths of the end of my life to honor him ubiquitously, even looking at me from the universe from where he observes me, listens to me and will speak to me Davidian..." turned into brass serpents on falcate chariots leading me away from the arms of the Messiah. I saw myself at his service in nine light-years from the twelfth applicant with billions of kilometers more, that is to say, a quarter of light-years to catch up with him. My four minutes are what I aspire to reach the five that remained of my temporal origin..., to restore the last thousandths of the end of my life to honor him ubiquitously, even looking at me from the universe from where he observes me, listens to me and will speak to me Davidian..." turned into brass serpents on falcate chariots leading me away from the arms of the Messiah. I saw myself at his service in nine light-years from the twelfth applicant with billions of kilometers more, that is to say, a quarter of light-years to catch up with him. My four minutes are what I aspire to reach the five that remained of my temporal origin..., to restore the last thousandths of the end of my life to honor him ubiquitously, even looking at me from the universe from where he observes me, listens to me and will speak to me, Davidian..."The Davidian Phenomenon continued to impact everyone because this happened to the ungulates when they sensed outbreaks of the cluelessness of the sky, believing they were a part of it, but the bodies of space are so far away, just as their whimsical light would take a long time to reach us, wondering about the universe of another ravenous dilapidated galaxy. The more distant the object of our consecration is, the longer it will take for the light to arrive and therefore what we see is even further away than in the past. Perhaps his lineage was a thousand years before it could materialize after 1040 years..., after David he did not seem bothered by the refractory passing of the degraded millennia. This equation was worth using to ask the Messiah for mercy for not having made his nation the best it could have treated and inherited towards him in sync at the time he was sentenced. In such a way to subtract years from the one who was born and ruled, so they would be subtracted from him as it is due to his soul that comes traveling with the invisible speed in the bluish light of the Menorah. Light Davidian: "it was 1040 a. C. that I saw the birth of light approaching the same one that saw us born in Bethlehem in the same village of the Messiah after 1040 years in which it separated us both and saw us born in different age phases..., he arrived at his stable next to his Davidian mother. Messianic I fell abruptly from the burst of beams of extinguished light years similar to those that accompany me today in the ceramic that also appears in Bethlehem.In this way I will follow your exalted Hexagonal primogeniture together with the Davidian spectrum, accompanying him to the people who gave birth to both of them."Sheba Dean, Vernarth states: "The Hexagon turned us around and we looked at the Zoroastrian sky, a new star guided the seven of us mounted on golden backs on camelids, now King David on the seventh Giga Camel". Saint John the Apostle intervenes: "In my symbology of the Apocalyptic as an ancient Davidian I give the testament of liturgy and that which appeared in the first centuries of Christianity in which its praises, prayers, petitions, characters, cults, ornaments, incense, Eucharist, chalices arise. , the saint, the amen, the lamb of God, the ******, the interception of the angels, the archangel Michael, the antiphons, the priesthood, the faithful, the meditative silence, the nuptial supper of the lamb; so are the numbers. At the same time, a symbology of the numbers is brought, giving them meanings; this is why for this author the "one" refers to God; the "three" can represent God although for the Jews it represents the divinity, and for the Christians the trinity (father-son and holy spirit). In the apocalypse the three appears as a fraction instead of the whole number a third part, a third; which indicates that neither is a full God nor the "fourth" that is the creation, and that two-thirds are not affected by what the third part is; the half and three and a half taken are from the book of Daniel and mean fullness as well as the "four" and the "seven" perfection, as well as the universe or creation of the representation of the four cardinal points, the four evangelists, the four living beings with God. In the apocalypse "the 5th and 6th" originate cataclysm and the "sixth" a vision of hope, the "seventh" the trumpets. The "six" denotes imperfection but one is missing to reach seven which is perfection; this last number in Hebrew is called "Sheba"; "twelve refers to the 12 tribes of Israel" (Jacob) (16), to the 12 apostles. If we make a calculation of the twelve tribes of Israel we also have to make it of the 12 sons of Ishmael that we can also consider them as twelve tribes. Which is equivalent to two pairs of 12 or 24; this last number multiplied by 2 is equal to 48 and 12 times 12 equals 144. Here we can continue calculating the multiples of 10 and 4 and thus group figures to give them interpretations. The number 1,000 would be the general idea of ​​a great number, the 1,000 years of the confinement of the dragon. Observe the negative aspect of some numbers that do not appear in the texts on "numerology" "King David, goes on the seventh Giga Camel, that there are five that are missing from the camels of the twelve (he being on the seventh) to get to mount the last one before they reach Bethlehem. "the 5th and the 6th" would originate a cataclysm but also glimmers of hope when they hit the sixth, and this could happen in multiple ups and downs in the lands of the birthright that saw both Jesus and King David born. The raison d'être of this Davidian way is Davidian Way He says: "Being on Mount Zion below the subsoil I imbued my proportion to my cenotaph asking to be my rest here or another. In the Old Testament, it says that I was buried with my ancestors in the City of David. Archaeological ramblings and excavations place my City south of the Temple Mount and not on Mount Zion where my current tomb is located. My city was the original settlement that became Jerusalem, they have searched for me in excavations of the City of Davidiana but they have not discovered my Tomb. Some have thought that I was buried in Bethlehem..., my city is also known as the Davidian Way,... but they look for me in excavations in Bethlehem and they do not exhume me from my grave. On Mount "Sion is my spirit" that looks for the Messiah still by some stairway that indicates looking at us both as humans..., both as kings but He is my true King. Here the pious and spiritual boat of Bethsaida had to pass as a consort in the Miracle of Pentecost that took place in the same place where the Last Supper was celebrated, the washing of the feet of the Disciples, the Meeting of the Disciples after the Ascension of our Jesus, Apparitions of the Risen Jesus and the Election of St. Matthias as an apostle, which was located in a high room on Mount Zion. He could be found in many places, but where I have wanted to prevail his well-deserved and welcoming place shared with me is in the Cenacle near me in my Tomb where he celebrated his first Eucharist. And now especially that I am on the seventh Giga camel hoping to reach the five that are missing to achieve the twelve that are missing beyond the cataclysm of the five that remain to get the twelve. That by equivalence it should have a correlation with my numeral year of my birthright 1040 BC and by a factor of multiplicity that if we make a calculation of the twelve tribes of Israel we also have to do it of the 12 sons of Ishmael that we can also consider them as twelve tribes. Which is equivalent to two pairs of 12 or 24; this last number multiplied by 2 is equal to 48 and 12 times 12 equals 144 as an arcane and secret measure of the edification of creation. Here we can continue projecting my work as a geometer calculating the multiples of 10 and 4 and thus group figures to give them interpretations of the size and measure that unites me and separates me from the Messiah."

Filled with a great piece from the cruise through the sands and the Judean desert, They were almost asleep in the hemispheres of each region that waited and recirculated with the energies of the desert. With its shifting landscapes, constant limestone hills between canyons of deep Philistine souls, with rivers and oases like Nahal David. They marked the passage of the camelids and the hydric solitude that dominated their fictitious vegetation. King David as the seventh horseman went far from those who opened fences at the tip of the anvil of the caravan. He felt moved to release the clothes from the cenotaph... from him, perhaps entering the Eucharistic pavilion that resembled his open mouth; He as a Young King was proclaimed, and he remembered when he was active in reacting to retaliation to scare off the Philistines, with his namesake Saul. They used to raid herds and fertile agricultural land, for which David begged the Lord what he should do in the land of Adullam? the Lord spoke to him and told him: "Let him rise up and destroy them", he did so and rushed over them thus beginning his reign of liberation from these barbarians. As they made their way to Bethlehem, the King felt that something was missing to fuel the atmosphere of his return to his homeland. Since then from the sky descended a flock of migratory birds that joined him when he fed the abdomen of the desert attracting six hundred Hula Cranes. King David whistled copiously which attracted lake birds creating an atmosphere of trance. Here time stopped and it rained softly sweet water with messages of love and everlasting avian hubbub. He recalled six hundred Cranes like the ones that sheltered them when the Philistine troops escaped, taking refuge in the cave of Adulam. Everything seemed scarce biometrics of the arid event in an arid destination. All embedded in the vegetation of xerophytic thickets and exegetical brambles that lit up with calypso color at each shoot of the past millennium in its early biblical time, when they approached the vicinity of the valley near Bethlehem near Beit Jala, erosive processes were imposed with meta desert factors of vile landscapes. Aeolian Eolionimia tramontane winds were falling on his Tekhelet, letting himself fall from the relevant heights with cranes with gravitating mud on their ends, with gravel from colonized riverbanks of the rocky Hamada desert areas, three fossil birds were climbing the rays that reflected the crown of two Kings to meet at Bethlehem. Arriving at the sacred native city and beginning in Christmas choirs and passion for the faint whistle on the twelve Giga camels, they venerated the hemispheres of energy prayer that insufflate from the eternal walk of the guide of their breathing wounding them as migratory birds of a series of fraternal cranes that invited him to be confused with the whistle of the divine Solano solar wind that calmed and stimulated the enormous breezes to warn the villagers of his enormous arrival together with the Apostle Saint John, converted into dusty fissures in quarries of the surroundings, where they stopped their work and deposited another rebuild in another temple with a greater whistle than a Sheba Dean.Shavuot Messiah; Shavuot is the second of the three pilgrimage festivals of Judaism (the others are Passover, Passover, and Sukkot..., which is walking in the desert after leaving Egypt). The Hexagonal Primogen took seven weeks through the desert and the Holy Land to reach the target that is Bethlehem. It would coincide with Shavuot; with bucolic meaning corresponding to the time of the year in which in Israel in particular the first fruits are collected. This is why the holiday is also called the Feast of First Fruits. During the festival, it is customary to eat dairy products, accompanied by the seven characteristic species of Israel, based on yogurt, honey, fruits, vegetables, and spices. In the existence of seven in their camelids is the vibration of their fruits and spiritual messages. The Shepherd and His Flock According to tradition, the area located to the east of the city, belongs to the fields of the shepherds, "they only keep watch in the dark for the shepherds who are in the field." Several churches have been built to commemorate this event. Even today local shepherds can be seen tending their flocks in the same area (even on Christmas Eve). The relevance of this land of herds is the conclave of this brotherhood, Saint John the Apostle, King David, Vernarth, and the retinue of animals plus Eurydice. They are beings of light that come to pick up spikes and sheaves, the seeds of the gramineous environment that surrounds historical vibrations of dissolution of resurgent energies from all corners. Despite being a thousand-year-old Canaanite city, this city now has the visit of this conclave that is going to loosen the chains that had been folded in its geomorphic genesis. Here the memory of the seeds and spikes are impregnated with the "Lady of Light" made and made of the divine seed that feeds generational infants, whose silence generously retransmits all those who will give birth to pain and all those who memorize your gesture. Mother, Parents, and children will go through the past of a farm that only admits one seed "Gleaning his Divine example". Flooding and spreading beyond all limited expansive creation of the Marian World. Before approaching the confines of the village, Archangel Uriel becomes aware saying: "Gramineous Consort..., herbaceous Shavuot divider Spike between races, lineage and family, typology, lineage and hyper gender... Here lies your superfamily thickening ancestral in daily sheep...energetic molecular matter..., golden passers-by flowers of Sutra thorns, glucose polymer molecule, herbal and decreed perennial network...vascular bio Mariah..., graminaceous chopped stems..., crowns to the precept! striated Angiosperma, the tabernacle, prevented weeks of your veil and hoarse ritual...Bethlehem..., on veiled feet, golden tornado wind....extreme advance..., carrying flowers to your Messiah, re-blooming womb, scales and pitch collapsed on your candle..., varnish between milky honey... traditional ancestral embryo... full holistic, skillful milk and aloe-myelin and consummate Messiah..., pheromone teaching nativity..., rescinded to Nacer. Here is your Shavuot Hexagonal Architectural Primogeniture where nothing is born and nothing dies, mutualism roar great prayer of subspecies... high-sounding and metabolizing Big Bang..., intra-species, specimen Guru-intuitions, Sheets in beads..., between Ruth's fingers and her uninhabited herds, Druid plant ficus..., sagebrush, plain rock, and rainy past weaving, Here below you I double its wool in July... Sheaves of wool that undress, Brave Period and histo-weaving tillage..., fateful hunger and cotyledon... Bread on tiles of your altar; germ to satiate..., awning to heirs to plunder...A quarter of your barley toast..., will prostrate itself fascinated supposedly in a rooted basket, Junco discerning in thunder, pseudo-diaphragms reflowered millennia, perfect Sheba of Seven knotty and amplified trumpets between the eye of the Universe... thousand-year-old Reed roots on the back of my hanging donkey distilling in the confines, affirming themselves still and tremulous of ogre sheaves..., restless Davidian affirming themselves in secondary roots..., in bifurcated grass lights,... in empty Davidian center, through the Davidian center big bang space of Bethlehem, Messiah..., ear of the Lady of Light...! between prayers of forty and more to the right..., multi germinating." ... in the empty Davidian center, through the big bang space Davidian center of Bethlehem, Messiah..., a spike of the Lady of Light...! between prayers of forty and more to the right..., multi germinating." ... in the empty Davidian center, through the big bang space Davidian center of Bethlehem, Messiah..., the spike of the Lady of Light...! between prayers of forty and more to the right..., multi germinating."

Saint John the Apostle is frozen by this senso-oratory, lengthened his phonetics, his words, and accents, making himself almost unintelligible as he tried to record himself and imitate what the archangel recited. The slopes that formed a beautiful valley moved to the opposite ones. The verses transmuted clarified energies, caloric and meteorological, the wells of the oasis sites that dwelt for millennia lit up like rubies in a Pingala aphorism, resurfacing in borders that adorned the presence of visitors. With energy channels and energy wheels, they traveled like turbines to the left brain of Bethlehem where north and south intersected vertically, pouring out the Prana that threatens the storm of the intellect, which sleeps what awakens in the port angle of North and South. Thus Bethlehem received visitors who entered with their ungulates, faking being nomadic mountains on camels that prowl in random sedentary circles. Shofar and Asherah, already set, begin to direct their destiny to the heart of the Nativity area where their origins and areas of the omnipresent West Bank strip were. They entered with strong winds clinging to their bristling camelids, everything had the atmosphere of a city as if it had never been inhabited. The fringes in floods of the sun were distinguished orange-reddish weakened before storm gradients from the Red Sea and the Mediterranean placating the Hexagonal primogeniture. Although squalls were appreciated with agile movements in the local atmosphere, several layers crossed with the inheritance of Persian cloths in colorful blues and orange tints coming from the red sea and the quarrelsome storms of Asherah "The mother of all the gods", and He who was the "father of the gods". Known among the Babylonians as Ishtar originally called Athirat (or Afdirad). She is the great Semitic goddess of fertility. In the Bible it receives the name of Ashtoreth, a distorted pronunciation of the original 'Astart by including the vowels of the Hebrew word boset (shame) according to the custom of the rabbis, to discredit the pagan divinities. Asherah from the Bronze Age (before 1200 BC) The Greek form is Astarte. Astarte was considered the "goddess of the Sidonians". In the Amarna Letters, she is Ashirtu and Ashratu. The Ras Shamra texts identify Asherah ('atrt = atirat) with El's goddess wife; they call her "Lady Asherah of the Sea" and "progenitor of the goddesses", here she would be the mother of these discredited Babylonian forms caused discomfort and discomfort in the face of a living past and present in the intangibility of inheritances that greet others that could supplant them. This caused heating of the ground in the podiums or legs of the animals with an abnormality of the Greek-Babylonian wormwood prostrated at the feet of Asherah, leaving an odorous atmosphere of wormwood in the land of two native Kings of this jurisdiction, attracting dissipation on the roofs of some surrounding houses to the precise place where the Messiah saw the light of lights and those who waited for him together lighting him with candlesticks. This sacred wind caressed everyone's hands and insinuated them to take charge of the new Bethlehem, a vicissitude that was being reborn with the illustrious visit of the Apostle. His consolations were dilated as any caravan that increased its predictive volume equalizing the pressures of the air that surrounded the streets where no one appeared and was seen generically. This centrifugal force rotated their terrestrial spirits, originating the birth of a great thickness of crazy gases that populated the roofs of the village. Thus creating greater weight and highlighting the freshness of essences that were torn from the soil with the aroma of grazing, explaining to themselves the presence of sub-areas in the West Bank and insolating redemption of the arrival towards formal merit contrasted by the gesture of being staying next to this at night, and varying many times until bringing them the holy sacrosanct condensed water, deregulating the thermal sensation.The density and buoyancy of the animals' legs made it difficult for them to select the right moment to stop and dismount. The aerial relief that went up and down went up on the walls of a few rooms linked to the nativity stable, pressing on them the adjacent words that were allied from the ground to soon arrive in an ascending spiral converted into light and wind on the seventh horseman; King David, appearing to them right there..., right there before Him his Abigail, the third wife who gave him an advanced reconception by presenting him with an altar that will endow eucharistic missions during his admission to Bethlehem. On the gradient that led to the hill of the stable, an unexpected phenomenon swirls around them, affecting their vision and consequences, rotating them all to the rear of the original access to the stable. Converging winds on the ground and upper external part of the stable and causing an anticipated shine of the space that would prolong them to under-understand that they had already arrived but were still seven hundred meters from the main access and that the city was not Bethlehem, but another that seemed to emerge from the arid soil next to the stable, dividing into inter-strips that rubbed against the original and current ones, in such a way as to generate a great development of the subsoil on the vertical that sounded stentorian and vibrating as if in a long stay on the distributed assistants in this supra abnormal regime. They arrive exempt from grievances but dismounting gentiles..., the sixth piece of crowns of Kafersesuh bringing the fertilizations of the Ibico Ring 6, for the central stage of investiture under the shadows of Hellenika and Theoskepasti, where everything will be endowed with the greater Ibix called Wonthelimar together with Leiak. David speaks: "When I approached Moab, I asked for asylum in the protection of my parents..., so I myself would burst the eardrums of the Philistines for each rugged network of links that join me in sponsoring my counterattack advance towards their domains. In their unknown territories of the enemy appears before me a noble and friendly joy; Abigail, who fills the history of my land with beauty before the very son of a cruel Canaanite; Nabal. She enriches my lands more than the entire multiplied population of animals every time I count the units, I look into her eyes and forget the greater amount that moves her heart towards me because of that I did not spill blood on the house of Nabal. Being Abigail is the one that replaces my union with the Faith that moves my passion. Abigail then kneels and touches the ground where he was making the sign of the cross after assigning a cross kissing his hands, on his forehead and chest. Thus, from somewhere her parents reorganized the garments to ravish Vernarth for the bi-connected purging of him with that of David and the Messiah-Vernarth. As in the Jericho tale, Alikanto, Raeder, and Petrobus galloped around the periphery of the citadel, with the full force of the steed's Golden hooves kicking up liquid and dust from the Bethlehem water tables. Alikantus did not carry an amount on his back..., he carried an Áspis koilé of the Vernarth Hoplite. resume their advances in buttresses to build the walls, that they had to mediate to weaken Asherah's overtures to disagree with the citadel borders. The Apostle, Etrestles, and Vernarth blew the shofars as many times as they gloated the perimeter of the city, and they believed that there would be more rounds..., on the divan was the Shofar that could sound more times and louder, it was intact..., but it ran to blowing it Vernarth not leaving a single drop of air looking at the sky that would appear with three bright stars filling the anxiety and attachment to break the Easter bread for everyone. But it was not that effect it was the astral echo of King David's Betelgeuse that emanated with his breath also helping to raise the walls that would protect him from staunch invasions of the lackeys of Asherah. In such a way that the partitions were raised until reaching the governorships of the words of the watchman angel who coordinated everyone saying: Watchman Angel: "For us the partitions, for you the roofs, on the heights the limits will mediate and on their Shofar they will define to Asherah, without any city where to go and come" Such exordium is fulfilled and Bethlehem is surrounded by golden barreled partitions rising in remarkable walls and heights to placate the roaring winds of the Canaanites as in Jericho but the other way around, where they succumbed to the mandate divine to allow them to settle in the thousand-year-old town hall. Finally, they remove the twelve camelids from the ante circle that did not allow them to settle in the settlement, managing to settle down to revive a bi-natality and double reign of whose splendor only the luminances of the Messiah and King David embracing them will speak. From the extramural continents they remain desolate, they revive the pristine and angelic countenance of Abigail bringing dinner and a fetish Shofar to each one of the components of the Hexagonal Birthright that began to continue the seven weeks in Judah. The legacies of Magraner"Punica granatum" were bushes that appeared to them in the focus of the micro center of the fire, entering with some tenuous and sinuous branched thorns getting muddy coming down from the tassels of the Shofar feeding the curiosity of all those who were encamped surrounding a fire full of sounds with new positions of devout pupil sounds of high Jewish principalities, cordoning off objects of the Apostle Saint John who shared it with Etréstles..., giving sonorous instrumentalizations to rams that came around them... looking for ravens that jumped on their heads. Due to the binding and cracking of the shofars, in the opposite works of luminosity, the bonfires hung over the same faces of the wise counselors who unfolded them with their young shiny branches and sheaths before others underexposed yellowish-greenish with obtuse apexes. Resigning shallow marginalized exceptions, polygons of pre-flowering and shofar-formed on valves that escaped from ashes of shutters that were detached from the last fleeting flame of each minute running to the right. Everyone collected the nectars that the legates poured into chalices, drinking them lying down to swallow them while reclining and being able to look at the stars that emerged from albiceleste flavors, rinsing the arms of each one by touching them with the shofar like petioles stems on the seven ruminants that sought to recover what they had they made heavenly sounds about themselves.  Etrestles says: rinsing the arms of each one by blowing them with the shofar as petioles stem on the seven ruminants that sought to recover what they made a sound about themselves celestial. Etrestles says: "When the shofar speaks, past pastorals speak inside and outside the community, the most outlined has been to understand it as a trumpet of bony projection; that is to say, formed by a bony and pointed matter that is born from the frontal bone sealed by a layer of keratin that forms an aerophone horn cover. The horns of Moses come from a translation of the original biblical text perpetrated by Saint Jerome. When Moses descends from Mount Sinai, where he met with God, "the skin of his face had become radiant" says the Bible (Ex 34, 29-30). In the original Hebrew the verb "to radiate", and "to emit rays" is from the same root as the noun "horns" so Saint Jerome did not think twice and translated: "cornuta esset facies sua", or that is, "his face was cuckolded".Taking into account its timbre and sound quality here with you, it is not difficult to associate it with the sound and with the golden patina simulating Messolonghi's fingers..., which three by three-piston their bone reaches linking in some ways of beauty, goodness, clarity, brightness, and stories that will accompany us in this bonfire between these raised walls to level the vaults of the Messiah's nativity cries. Calibrations and catechesis on the real moment of his symbolic Lineage at dawn awake and alive, with waves of graceful voices with goat hosts reordering the urban matrix of the erected town..., everything will be at the expense of surrounding us and pouring out the voices shuffled with the shofar to protect us from Asherah in his eagerness to move us away from the fundamental site." Vernarth intervenes: "In this passage it is clear the capacity that the shofar..., and the sound produced by him with our similar voices being amalgamated with him, bawling and modifying the environment to a polyvalent physical dimension. Now we are a herald of goodness, beauty, and reconstruction, part of a noticeable dialectic to neighboring Canaanite cultures as a sudden reconversion between what was built and what is about to be founded even if something were to disappear in it. The wall was rebuilt in reality surrounding all of them beyond the golden light of the shofar producing today's creation and not devastation, encapsulating kingdoms in wisdom and lucubration..., this is where we have all come from the return of didactic cultural forms independently to attract us towards his teachings in an anonymous converted world with the purpose of reconverting itself into a solemn alert that precedes us.



Paraps XXVI

Messiah of Judah III part

Miracle IV- Baptistery

Stressed knowing that he was on a hill reserved for the beautiful settlement and elevations to the east of Bethlehem, he understood to facilitate the unusual lighting. stress; Leader of the Koumeterium Messolonghi felt that after thousands of years of his life in this Holy Land a great value of omnipresence. The Miracle of Christian protocol would begin with him paying for votes and tributes in the Church of the Shepherd's Countryside. In this rock of special mysticism, "He begins his rebirth in his tenth life before there were nine in Messolonghi (Koumeterium Messolonghi-Editorial Palibrio USA). A miracle happens that transships him to caverns that would transport him from the oldest of the past nine cycled epics in Kalavrita, Kalidona, Patmos and Messolonghi. Here he will come face to face with past lives, in The Fountain of the Shepherds,   in this analogous with allegorical motifs commemorating the shepherds and their flock by those who crown this fountain, having before our eyes the sculpture of the shepherd and under his feet floral motifs such as palm leaves, heads of cattle, sheep, and ducks in the act of drinking. In this hexagonal source it is equated with the Hexagonal Primogeniture, here is the miracle that would come to arise to reunite with the intangible Creation and Illumination as clothing. They thought they were closer to the village... but in reality, they were three and a half kilometers from the village itself, in a fenced compound with a wide path that runs through the park on the hill between trees and lush flowers that clearly evoke the place where those First-century shepherds brought their sheep to graze. We were all dozing off when certain royal decagonal sounds would transport us through the church..., on its decagonal plan, it appeared surrounded by four chapels and the apse that houses the altar, covered by a large dome of mortar and glass that lets in, illuminating the altar as it did. the guiding star that pointed the way to the shepherds. Here the murals that protected us from the hosts of Asherah had already disappeared. Most likely, they were keeping vigil over us with great chandeliers as they opened up in swamps from the sclerae of our desolder eyes. We were trapped by the quagmire created by Raeder and Petrobus in opaque clouds of sheep manure spilling through the corridors of the unknown worlds of climactic grazing. We went to its structure and over the entrance door, we saw the angel of the annunciation and above it, a singular bell tower incorporating us into the façade through three relaxed arches. Inside the beautiful fertile field from a marble church in two colors, some spaces could be emphasized, to which the columns that support the roof also contribute. The chapels are adorned with precious frescoes that represent scenes of the annunciation to the shepherds and arrival at the birth and altar table that is supported by the sculptures of four angels above all with the appearance of the hexagonal primogeniture between these angular stones. That hexagonal and polygonal effect in both parts were intra-excavated from their own vertices, They crossed a straight line from the north in a double semicircle that was concentric in the precise diameter of the equatorial inscribed in the central circular bleat that a sheep lactated..., here the shepherds arrive and receive them with great hospitality in symmetrical affability, shaking them with their shofar. over their songs and tunics..., each one was blessed by the nascent air of the other more than a steppe grazed by ruminants and palliated mouths. Twelve degrees to the right in the sixth wick of the Menorah, a regular silhouette was lit, becoming this intangible whose thirst makes them drink water from a hexagon well much more equidistant than walking between themselves, moving their hands with all the urgent emotions and dynamizing numb emotions that would vibrate from the third angle by clothing them with vertices of light that shone from the convex morning. There were six complex roots equating each other on the regulated plane of animals, which were parked near the medium stone walls where Raeder would climb to run over the walls, standing out more with each side in which the same forms of expression could be appreciated, embraced and emphasized. those who could decide to generate a rebirth of two kings and that of Etréstles by an internal lighting hex. Close to the church, colorful caves can be seen in the calcareous rock that dated back to the fateful Herodian era, denoting some surprising utensils found, of which we know their mission of the chapel when the diocese was founded.

Etréstles, receives a luminescent self-radiation immediately from caring and guiding as it has always been, but now in a tenth luminescent life in living connected to its own cisterns. An enjoy approaches him showing him his paw..., the curious thing is that this dog had six fingers, there he was convinced that it was his generous shepherd and that he would take him through internal labyrinths of his lighting by the sixth finger to help more unwary and unconscious beings that illuminate and grant subconscious existence in pumps that have lost their law in affront and self-rebellion. His sedition would begin with the substitution of grass so as not to depend, but rather to maximize them in the cavity of their stomachs, so he began to wander through the hills seeing how all his sheep fed on dry land, without any water source.

Raeder ran along with the cover of the stone walls, Petrobus turned around the perimeter of the inert time of the upper ledge, and the camelids raised their shining legs filling the herbaceous pastes in their timbal snouts, Alikanto sensed that only three kilometers away he was already presenting himself. the stable where they could surrender to the intubating silence and the innocence of a super little one who came and appeared..., knowing everything. All animals eliminated pastoral toxins and pheromones being free from enterotoxemia, distributed from the soil and the gastrointestinal tract of the youngest, not appearing in the holy ovine soil with the bactericidal absence of Hexagonal Primognitura. the pheromones in this chapel it was assimilating between special olfactory glands that would reign. They would fan the wings and its bursting abdomen, rubbing it on the roof of the prominent chapel like a domestic beehive. They would exchange the oral use of the inaugural soil to receive them in the animal creation controlling the cells of the chapel and segregating the maintenance of the backward world. The mandibular pheromones could be seen falling to the slab of the church, becoming sticky as they progressed to and from everyone's entrance. The pheromones of the sheep created recruitments of the others in the integument of each cognitive inflection plotting them to enter the baptistery, something like that would never have been possible, this was a great miracle in the rebirth of Etréstles when they could enter their own womb..., they lay down on Etréstles passing over his abdomen generating honey from his own mouth, giving the pheromone of the sheep when transiting and of the bees that provided him in his abdominal cell. Chemo Neurons and receptors renewed would be in charge of expanding circulating olfactory lines, causing an electro transmission of energy never seen before. Everything happens as a result of the metamorphosis of Etrésltes and his hairy clothing often lives on the backs of neurochemicals filling him through the largest lobe of the winch, which he had and carried in his hands and which he had requisitioned from the nearby mill of the ancient Christians who lived there. The apostle says: "Each verse..., a molecule, each surface a new system..., each membrane..., the rebellion of stimuli..., energy chain, sensitive organism..., neural axon, physiology, six hexagonal angles Pastors and Primogeniture creating together with a new genetics of harmonious existence that does not tire the sight of the Creator, seeing how everyone has fun in the garden of their house" The baptistery has a hexagonal base, which coincides with the primogeniture, since it is based on six anthropoid-zoomorphic elements, missioning after the vestige of memories of the Messiah, whose doctrinal base will predominate the exiled Apostle who miraculously returns to be close in the church of the shepherds with six angles that concentrate their escort, towards a single center of the tabernacle that will be reborn in the figure of Etréstles de Kalavrita. Vertnarth says: "Blessed light of luminescent glories that you have made of today that nothing ends in nothing..., everything begins..., this plan transfigures the purge that takes longer than the light that does not turn on from the darkness surrendered before its vassals. Now king tomorrow vassal, now sun tomorrow darkness. Nothing produces pain only temporary blindness, what hurts the most is exposing your face to death and your mind, In Ein Karem, two ears in spring besieged Etréstles falling asleep on the cross that was in the bell tower, could not wake up the next day among molded bronzes. He had had excruciating nightmares that prevented him from waking up. This is how he describes the dream: "I was heading towards some heights of Ein Karem when I was going near some hills near said city, some Roman Praetorian soldiers appeared to me and arrested me. Suddenly I woke up after having recovered from the severe beating they gave me, they interrogated me again, and they put half of my naked body in the middle of the body of an underground cistern, trapping me towards it by the enormous ice that was distributed in my body. They told me that they only wanted to test my resistance to water in this cistern to test my Hellenic Constitution by resisting darkness and high low temperatures as a Hellenic foreigner in Hebrew lands. Well, I was always very intrigued by everything but there came a moment when a luminescent light settled on my head in Ein Karem..., it was Isabel, the mother of John the Baptist telling me that there was a path where I could escape. At the moment that the guard came towards me, she surprises him with a viper that stings his hand..., quickly escaping the guard. Surprised I ventured to escape but when I was far from the cistern I returned to thank Isabel, I found myself face to face with the viper that was nested in the rags left by Santa Isabel..., Likewise, in the textile fringes, the viper uncoiled biting me in my right hand. So I had to leave quickly and go find Kanti who was waiting for me in a suspicious meadow. Precisely he took me to the edge of a bush where he pulled me close and with his snout he licked all the poison out of me. So he woke me up in the bell tower of the baptistery in the spring with the ears of a steed." Continuous parapsychological regression: I had been left alone in the hexagonal radier, full of brambles dressed in tides that fell from the bell tower on my wound. They had all left because they couldn't find me. Immediately Kanti took me by the hand and put me on his back, to go to Ein Karem; the Land of the threshold of John the Baptist. We headed to an important Christian site which was the birthplace of John the Baptist. Everywhere grace abounds on every fence, wall, and path, we rode through the alleys for hours until my wound healed enjoying my prayers while riding on my beloved Kanti. I felt that the left ear of my sorrel when walking without a shadow, showed me the essence of a prepubescent who had been born in this village, where his mother, Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, became pregnant and gave birth miraculously. Here, before this same lure, the restless right ear of my beloved Kanti told me that there was another child who was in his mother's womb; Mariah who was also pregnant with Jesus, and for this reason the village well is now called Mariah's Well and its waters are considered canonized. Kanti's parable: "By moving my ears forward I see our comrades around here near and behind, and in yourself, I love healing your wound. Now I will continue with my ears ***** and flattened back, making myself invisible to the Praetorians who want to target you with their leprous tongues." So I will continue with my advanced antennas forward and well dilated to hear the good steps of our comrades. Likewise, Alikanto kept his gaze on some pomegranate trees that stood out on the stone wall at the bottom of Ein Karem, while the chestnut advanced, he mobilized the base of his ears. When he felt allergy in his forehead and in the arched anatomy like super Kanti. In the domestication of him and in the use that Etréstles gave him after long days of the war, his steed had a tendency to suffer stretch marks at the supra muscular-osseous level. Showy macule like this, but not in his anatomy of immortal Equus as an external anatomical and physiological steed. Here the membranes of his cardiovascular apparatus are opened, separating him from divided Cretan and quadruple blue blood, turning in his Lazikos dance with hyper-oxygenated airs locked in the Ganymede sprouts when he was kidnapped from Mount Ida. In his exile he took care of sheep..., Zeus looked at him out of the corner of his eye and his own bled..., Zeus fell in love with him on the spot and sent him the eagle, "Which Kanti has interpreted here as the blow of Saint John the Evangelist missioning his telepathic vibrations through the corridor of the monastic cell on Patmos. Knowing that this steed and namesakes are of origin from super ventilated atmospheres and foggy areas of the northern coast of Crete. Calling himself that, about stunned himself..., about the serpents that snake sparkling from religious Hellenic mythology, between Chthonic gods or spirits of the underworld, opposing the celestial deities. The timpani telluric tremors of the hexagonal tectonics would merge with those of the chapel of the shepherds and that of their percentage share in Etréstles, of a sixth portion of the sixfold Hexagonal primogeniture. The steed's morphology resembled that of Ein Karem in super-ordered hoofed limbs like those of a mammalian placental, walking in the cracks of the quivering fingerprints of its odd footsteps. Etréstles says: "His head is the same as mine..., neck and trunk, the sigil on his pyramidal neck in which he could read the Torah. The technical nasal orifices of it are beautiful straps surrounding the headgear, touching his weariness beyond the vigor of finding him in a place of sherbet of the cisterns after having dealt with the leather that pulls his pair of smooth ears, over the blind spots maneuvering in the cove of his beautiful Cretan poetry being like that too when blue smoke smoked from Hestia's orphaned chimney. Fine trapezoid grace where her neck nails the circumlocution of her knee and the gauntlet of her inseminations and straight mane regenerating and blocking the rays of Zeus in the concave cups of Ganymede spraying them on her beard and mouth the liquor of sober trickery. I continue in the balance of so many battles won, with my Xiphos and Áspis Koilé,... beyond fearful purges that allow us to find ourselves around the corner in front of Vernarth, waiting for us to shelter Kanti's ears in Ein Karem. " They left Ein Karem after having had the vision of the Mount of Temptations even being far from the place. Grouped together again and looking at each other, she saw that his face was rejuvenated, putting his Herodian gestures in the company of King Davidian.The Messiah was born, a King without a castle or subject knowing that children under one year old are attacked by plagues or sacrifices. Messiah King of the dying world compresses for what bleeds the divine blood from him. A trifle of Messiah in each one speaking with their eyes after looking at several roofs without their own roofs, all serene,... without blemish in the middle of their faces in the violet iridescence, sounds and choral masteries that emerged from the surface in flocks of white from the Azores islands, they rained multiplying on their wings before arriving at the mass of the annunciation near the stable. Vernarth arrives and sees people gathered with their heads together and holding hands, others holding the bells of animals to hear the sweet voice of the little boy rippling like cotton in the harvest from the braying of a colt that dozed in the shade of its parents before eating. Vernarth puts down his sword Xiphos and genuflects and crosses himself with the hand that allowed him to move his fingers against his right Lynothorax wounded in battle. He makes a metallic cross sign by crossing his swords with water flooding the sidewalks of ultimate dazzled ideologies. One day he wandered away from the alleys of Emmaus where he had visions of Praetorians discovering idolatrous moods and scents of a newly arrived child from the white clouds of an approaching stable. Vernarth puts down his sword Xiphos and genuflects and crosses himself with the hand that allowed him to move his fingers against his right Lynothorax wounded in battle. He makes a metallic cross sign by crossing his swords with water flooding the sidewalks of ultimate dazzled ideologies. One day he wandered away from the alleys of Emmaus where he had visions of Praetorians discovering idolatrous moods and scents of a newly arrived child from the white clouds of an approaching stable. Vernarth puts down his sword Xiphos and genuflects and crosses himself with the hand that allowed him to move his fingers against his right Lynothorax wounded in battle. He makes a metallic cross sign by crossing his swords with water flooding the sidewalks of ultimate dazzled ideologies. One day he wandered away from the alleys of Emmaus where he had visions of Praetorians discovering idolatrous moods and scents of a newly arrived child from the white clouds of an approaching stable.Intrepid and with light-years, he came crawling in his arms with his crown traveling from the smallest space that relieves the world in a Templar, first-time and omega period, with the appearance of being born by all. Perfect and newly born with frequency blue body, blood, and eyes. Covered with gummy gelatinous substances..., anti-Herodian; seeming to save others with their small hands of the divine womb, which manage to enter the heart of God, even having fingers that do not reach the edges of God. It never seems strange to him, only that his ***** seems to never come out of him. But it is spontaneous, he sparkles outside the womb of his holy mother with the immersed placenta in the prayers of the induced shepherd of the womb of the ****** Mariah that great arms shelter the orchards to surround all those present in birth that seemed like that of a donkey's ******, who could raise his son to be King of consecrated animals as well as few making dalliances to the right of the resident Menorah getting up early. Vernarth says: What are we to expect?...the vigil...with his shoulders hunched and his head pointed north of Jerusalem this little king bent on his pre-fetal knees, after nine candles to the right of the troubled Menorah. Even though the midwife who helped the puerperal Mariah was not premature and they distanced her from the halo parenthesis that playfully changed where to put herself, close to her saintly interior, that is, triggering the powers of phosphorescence. Self-creating a thick but light layer of psyche that would make him already independent of José and Mariah...and if they weren't! His fists since childhood had signs of a stigma when he was just unborn and not born, azure flames came out of his hands lighting up the eyes of his dazed parents. Rabbi's golden machine lactated seriously when her mother slept, she didn't allow him to see her conscious of her drawing intra-lactations of the lymph from her entrails, whose gothic light ****** the dominant Magnificat of the Vulgate. He ****** on the object to take her lactation and her left hand to space it out to all who wanted to go into meta-object lullabies. Thus, her thumb and finger are introduced into her mouth, pressing them on her startled palate at the braying of the graceful donkey. All those present took with their hands the others with their own thumbs, returning to their childhood cycles just laying down in the manger. At that moment, far from feeling the imagines walking near the fields of vision, shiny noble metals..., their candelabra eyes dazzled as if they were brothers. Here he moves his arms copiously as if wanting to fly from there, with the vigor of her winged mother, to follow her beyond a tender left-handed Golgotha ​​deception. That he kept the pendulum coming and going from one arm below the other as he turned on top of her, embracing her lush maternal hand. His early nervous system was celebrating on the back of the colt, highlighted with rags in temples that he imagines to be sacral effluvium in waters on the flat beef, the camel and Raeder and the Petrobus Pelican and other animals that were on their knees smiling with their hands glued to each other all sweet to the right of the sweet nectar of the Magnificat. All the excited animals still trembled with emotion on the demure ground of this alpha biblical moment, all imitate the trembling animals but each of the adults who were there hugged the hands of each animal and child present as a sign of giving comfort to the parents together to their children who seemed to be already an adult saying goodbye to their birth. His scaly breathing was full of anagrams of Magnificat, they used to trace analgesic sources of the dream of seeing him between golden and straw fistulas of grasses breathing next to him. The voices were felt from outside of those who could not enter of glory and breath without equal of the rancor of the world distracted in a piece of tin and hardened hearts, now resplendent from seeing so much sleep looking at them and drowsily yawning in a golden child. When they breathed her glory, they followed the patterns of the priestess Deborah, who for some normalized her feminism and strength as a mother breathing the libertarian history and matron of a nation that should have been born in a Judah stable. Mary and Joseph were distracted every second looking at him, they felt that the Messiah grew too much, worrying them about this strange unreality. They breathed more than their own son seeing him without breathing that they had to do it in the garden of the man who allowed him to do it today. As long as it took their parents to distract themselves, Saint John says: "Godson and Man, the priest made Pope..., the minors run after the elders, the bible for more apostles so that they swell and spread it, that the gospels add more pages and favorite editions. Prochorus; you who are...in some seat of Patmos prepare sacred parchments with thick corpulent ink..., which will reach your cell and seat. Studies..., something wrong...? An anointed Christ needs us to write for him because his hands are asthmatic in the words and in the inspiration that you move all the pages of the world reading them scattered and disserted,....in each well and each step was son and man, where king and mother and where each mother has to dry the cloying slime that dries up the mystery of having her white and emaciated. Let him sleep, perhaps when he wakes up he will meet a Messiah who will never stop being in his arms.

Kafersuseh. One-Dimensional Beams

More than two thousand years ago there was a mischievous infant who looked and looked curiously at the beams when he was born in Bethlehem..., especially ones that crossed! This happened in the polarity of the magnetic stable of Bethlem in a portal on adjoining hills that received him overflowing. This glorious empowered looked at the beams that wore ingenious crosses, seeing himself there being still an unborn he knew that when he was born he would already leave this unborn universe. Above the trusses that riveted the frame, he approached with his lonely gaze above the roof being able to see some beings of light organizing a Eucharist on the roof of his stable two thousand years ago that could be more than an edict that he would inaugurate the sagacity of caring for and giving newborns what many wanted to see but few knew who he really was, even having no record of him or his lineage lost in the middle of the strips of hay. Says the Messiah: "A few minutes ago, or more than two thousand years ago...? I counted the times that the Res waggled its tail, and I realized that he already had selected visions in Kafersuseh, higher than the ceiling of the beams..., in the sunroom, some outcasts also visit me, reborn and loving. It even has to be detected that someone came from far away but arrived late, I was only able to observe him know how to join him to my pariah criteria. He was tidying up the altar receiving orders from the unsupportable upward hardwood scaffolding telling him so; "That everyone is in alliances lining up for those who didn't fit in the stable." I looked at the roof of the barn seeing beyond...being able to verify that my custodians were there preparing the beams on the plugs that crossed each other to climb to greater viewpoints after rubbing the rough coatings of their flogged texture like whips from the underworld of Elpenor. That gentleman remained, and not when I lost sight of him with mine as a child-man, since only he distinguished me but not so the beings of light. The disillusioned Eucharist was being consecrated. I never rested in looking, resting in a forever, because I saw that my eyes became fringed lights in the lasting oscillation of the chants of the reveille or the tri sonar of the shofar. During this time a rising angel appeared, trying to get in and out then he belatedly decided to join the group of shepherds who were herding their sheep in the fields near Bethlehem, and he told them that he brought good news because the Messiah the savior of the world had been born. The shepherds left everything to go in search of the newborn since the angel told them that they would find me sleeping or in dormancy..., but I was not staying on the manger, since I was up in the space of three sounds of bells, almost farther than close to those who announced my advent. After three sounds of bells, three shepherds of light came down from the roof seeing in me that they recognized your minds, thus being they who blessed my journey on a day in the Middle East, even being on a roof next to the paradise that I officiated in the splendor and perfection of the world as a man-child not far from the magician outcasts, who parodied all the songs always with followers of Zoroaster and my Kafersuseh up to Gethsemane and towards my mother. The Messiah was still abstracted looking at the sky while he was busy putting his body to sleep. There is no doubt that his unfolded being made him move his first steps in original words that alluded to a game of learning to give the first in Judean usage on the stables.His disconcerted hands of his body made dance stories of those who were close to him, making only about fifty grouped there in watermarks that ran like seconds within urgent minutes without time gathered in the Jewish dawn of Eretz-Israel. Saint John the Apostle says: "God is concerned about the material world and about this creature of His that predetermines us. This is the amazing thing about the Father and the Son. Behold... I will walk in the dark, not in the light. So you will see the trait that not a lifetime will take me to know which in its similarity and who inherits the body and soul of it as in the hands of a bumblebee. I feel love over the hate of others, I see the light that could be a self-confidence to those who resound in their tired and inattentive ears, maybe that way they will see when they can see better without listening attentively to the sound of the bumblebee. I see the verses fly and how they fall one by one on my soul in order obeying the flocks early, like a herd ordering those who one after another look at each other later ordering the perfect law of the beginning in a reconciled end "In that instant, fragrances of the dense flowers in water transmitted the anxiety of those who wanted to continue listening ecstatic and fragrant, but as they got rid of their presumptions they fell into the abyss on the banks of the cliff garden of Malaki, where many of them coughed or cleared their throats luminances that attacked their feelings wrapped in judicious phlegm on their limestone tombstones. Vernarth says. "Drink with me..., I have a new concoction from the beginning to the end where the branches enter with their effect from the same branches the true light that savors mistakes and slips comes out towards you. I have scabs from many shadows, but the unfaithful passion that hates me with such intensity is ennobled when seeing me prostrate before the Messiah who does not tire of a new change when seeing how his rounded limits shine on his face, much less of adapting in square limits nor to continue being born and dying, by drawing the curtain that his selfless mother always shows him to sacrifice, immersed in Gnosticism and of all those who tried to relate it " We will not be able to ask ourselves many times who we are being in front of and every time a child is born amidst variations that make all mischief its preciousness because it is born from the locked heart dancing in the greater acceptance of the welcome cycle of being born and being reborn. Even so, never having been among them, the systems of credibility are tired of their limestone material..., they register and suggest all kinds of contemplations in a vague naivety that shines between gold, myrrh, and frankincense. All those who were present transcend to resent their consciences by believing themselves spiritual while tenderness accompanied them, but not religious but the leadership of a creation will be presented to them in this stable that we see just being born that is above yourselves being born in all that concludes in an epistle under the dominance of "As you believe and love not seeing, what we see in us not believing" Indefinite before this stable we pray over the mother on her arrival, and we will pray in his mother when he leaves..., he is physical for those who accept him as a divine man and he is vainglorious for those who do not, those who do not tire their limits do not move the fence of their three-quarters demarcated, entering the undemarcated spirit as mobile emotional , girding a father and his image beyond because it escapes in our reason and faith, if not it is beyond or closer to what is usually a voluntary desire that always remains, if it is the Messiah everything is accepted in your mistakes of returning to reprimand after erasing the test of your random Being reprimanded, what the error feeds in you is digested by your active mind. Here we are extended before the anti Faith and Distended Will, underlying a new tradition that will need to relive it and get to know it if those of us who continue to speak of ethnic faith or about the naturalness of multiple tasks of their intolerances. Little Joshua says: "My fingers disobey me from her because they are far from my mother's, when I want to bring my visions of her closer to her, I throw myself into her gaze to ask her permission. But more than anything that leads us north, it flows faster than my shadow feeding on the light of the epistle. I sing and intone wills that come from so far away but I am distracted by looking and seeing those who organize an altar not so far from it..., up here on the roof. I feel without knowing and without knowing how behind them is my Father, and next to them in line the pavilion of the multitudes that sings me of haughty brave and Lord for those who are not. I never get tired of talking about the beams! they flex with the horses of the universe, and the dimensions intersected with my passion in my tension that falls compressed and falls reluctantly at the moment of tired inertia. The prism makes me hold on to the portions of the arcades of the stable, and this is in the creaking of my doubts in the desert of Jericho. The torsion in its mechanics as a noble beam, unbearable does what my reflexive pains endure so as not to stress the beams of others. From Nazareth to Bethlehem, a great effort to sustain the tension and torsion of the mechanics of the altar in the hands of those who fall weightless without feeling the weight that their load lightens on my back. In this slender mass and geometric beamed wood, the daily calculations that my father makes when he is tired to hold the world and my trova back are deformed, and when he is with impulses beyond them..., he deforms what the torsion does on it and does on the other Merida angles. And because as his son I don't know how to interpret it unidimensionally...? whose axis and radius I never knew how to understand, making myself wisely ignorant, taking hold of their garments strongly and of the mysteries that go beyond a constant creation in a stable" The Aramic Semitic language was presented in this Eucharist, on the Kafersuseh, by Joshua, He took his father in the stable with all those who came to see him, he looked at them beyond thousands of years to come to meet the humanity that lay grazing, always addressing them in Aramaic parables. While below the kings gave him offerings from the east, above beyond the studded beams, King David was consecrating him. Behind the King was the Father Creator supervising the thousands that his son Joshua would parley with Aramaic tongues, when the thousands of futures are consecrated alive in their astral bodies to the right of the Menorah, together beyond the archangels surrounding each one. Joshua watched carefully as his Aramaic lingual farming went further from Bethhlemem, beyond Kafersuseh where the evanescent height responded to a canopy shed of the beam that leaned on the stars, populating his trapezoidal back for a provincial development in his nonverbal escape from losing his unborn language And entering Aramaic through the divine membranes that descend through his olfactory halo language. However, he was already beginning to descend from the terrace to address the base of the peasant Christians who adored him and extolled him horizontally, lavishing him with water to distribute in their hands and faces beyond his visions. Joshua looked at Joseph and felt that his Aramaic was already his, but he would leave in advance walking towards the Garden of Olives..., towards Gethsemane, to meet with a frank theo-dimensional language towards his Abba Creator, surrounding them with Lepidoptera that burst their chrysalises plaguing taxa of Aramaic micro languages ​​to take them to their Abba who would await him in further ceremonial on the flat slopes that flowed with him in a language that might one day be lost as a dead language. However, this Arabic language will go in placebo on these pollinating Lepidoptera and they will go from the sacred lands to Gethsemane from their heavenly visions to Kafersuseh. In their homogeneity as dialects, the impetus of Lepidoptera began to be reborn here, traveling in nocturnal groups, to Gethsemane on the same day that Joshua came into the world in Aramean lights. When Joshua was born his Aramaic language traveled from the highest beam above the roof of his barn, to arrive with his biological Lepidoptera lingual species to pollinate Gethsemane. To migrate from that moment his word that he kept knowing that his body would be lost before those who tire in their eyes by not being able to decipher or read. Thus, transferring pollen from the stamens to the receptive macula of flowers in the angiosperms that will populate golden olive orchards mounted on vectors of the aforementioned pollen will be flown and piloted in more olive trees by the bees that will carry strains from the Kafersuseh in Bethlehem to preserve the moral language of Joshua. Although the new labors in humanity with all this and manner will go astray as a non-preserved language, not even imaginable at the birth of the Messiah until the beginning of a Gethsemane in a united Aramic body and language, but with an invisible Aramic body in those who do not you will be able to see the migratory flight of the Lepidoptera applauding mixed with bumblebees.
Messiah of Judah
Patricia Drake Feb 2013
An anarchist atom
Assaults the atmosphere
With anger and aerial arson
Bringing, begetting
Brutal and ****** battles
In my brain
Initiating chaos
With charges
Of chemicals.
A disection,  distortion
Diversion of dedication
And direction
Causing eruptions
Emissions
Of erratic, electric elements
Of ego.
Ferocious fires form
In filaments, firmaments
Feeding the fantastic
Forces
Which grow and gain
In greatness in gravity
Grave, gory, gorgeous
Gloom.
Henceforth hidden horrors
Harrowed in a hollow heart
Instantly interact with
Intimate ideas
Initiating irregular, irrational
Irreversible
Irrelevant
Intimacy
Jealousy
Jumbling of jinxes
And laws of the jungle
For kicks
Leading to lies
Leaving love for loneliness
Loss.
A massive moral meltdown
In my mind
Negating, neutralising
normality
Orchestrates an open
Onslaught of order
And ordinary
People's principles
To pursue passion
And perfection
In a poetic periphery
Quite queer to some
And quaint to those
Not acquainted with
Rushes of ramblings
Received and reciprocated
Or radical ridicule
Of rascals.
Synapses send,
Signal every sinew
Simulating similar signs
But transmitting treacherous
Tingles
Teasing,  trapping thoughts
In terror, temptations
To commit treason
Unforgivable,  unforgettable
Us
Vivid and vibrant
But also very
Woeful
Wishing we were wild
And willing to walk
Our wishes make wonderful
Wells of
Youth
And creative zest.
Andrew Rueter Jun 2018
I'm a doomsday prepper
Afraid of zombie lepers
And nuclear line steppers
So I spend my life preparing
Instead of repairing
A civilization that is constantly crumbling
I focus on post-apocalyptic rumbling

My self reliance
Met my defiance
In an alliance
Of deadly appliance
When I have no faith in the government
Because they might make preparing futile
For the disasters of my wonderment
I don't copy their community style
They'll just die when the world ends
So they're a waste of the time I spend

I tried to look above
To find love
But a giant tidal wave
Blocked the sun's rays
And I could feel the Earth quake
Under my shaking feet
So I decided it was a mistake
And to avoid what's sweet

I will no longer be a misfit
After the apocalypse
I will be more comfortable than everyone else
But will I really keep my resources to myself?
I say of course
From my high horse
I fantasize about being right
So others will see the light
Of a nuclear blast
And see that I last
They'll beg to see my stocked shelf
Yet I will offer no help
I'll say my memory is hazy
Didn't you call me crazy?
Protecting my goods in that vulnerable hour
With a stockpile of firearm firepower

I prepare for an impending doom
That'll create some elbow room
Instead of friends I gather supplies
For a cataclysmic surprise
Where everyone dies
Then I'll be happy
Hunting and trapping
All alone
In a blast zone
Where someone once said
Life is what happens
While you're making plans
But the apocalypse
Is my promised land

— The End —