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Julian Sep 2020
I famigerate without taciturn timidity the straits of a straightened jury-rig of nesiote narrowbacks harping the accordion zest and zeal of the plenilune consuetude of a scrivello infamy sprung into the rows of rip-tide acclaim hamstrung by the decline in fastidious upkeep of the timberlask vesicles that avoid the phenakism of prismatic reformation fundamental to transmogrified simpers of dismal saturnine darkness encroaching on the parallax of realms within the dominion of the Almighty for the omniety of the usucaption of the fruitful prune in the priggish afterglow of a noontide eclipse bereaved of whispering retreat in the hallowed wasms of stiltanimity becoming an entreaty to ecumenical barbs of propriety selected without intimacy to folksy bibliopolists but rugged in sterling tribute to the true vine of the appointed ways of sacerdotal triage among a roughshod vanity of a derelict world marveling at otiose rejoinder rather than true spasms of tragedy flickering in the recessive alleles of a careworn culture. The travesty of Beirut is the bromide of current leapfrogs of sentinel lust and malapert destruction forming an ironclad camaraderie with chocolate-box langlauf disasters wed uxoriously to the penury of the brackish version of the catadromous bailiwick of despotic nescience pregnant with sophrosyne redemption at the cusp of a plaid perfunctory quip of quisling intimations of the sketchy provenance of humdingers of comestion lurking in the plodding prowl of a ribald wiseacre of a beckoned billow of trinkochre welded into a conscientious blarney that awaits the popinjays that sculpt brittle redshort fictions into awakened carapaces of a limacine reduction of impoverished fulmination into the neatly sworn footprints of a geotaxis shuddering with magnetism only in spectacle without the overhailing zeal of vintners who specialize in curtailed wine drawn from Caiaphas and soaked with the muddy turgid Siloam as avenues toward the repentance of asunder becoming marginalized as a whimper of taciturn choleric war receding not even into an audible delope as the masterful chryselephantine assault of cryptic auditions in the theater of effete refuge sink into the pelagic oblivion of a remarkable blister festering into inconsequence as the rebarbative emoluments to tattered travesty hearken a battle-cry yet emanated in the reprehensible bulwark of the gerendum of a poised plastered humility aggrieved with such friction turgid on rollicking magpiety that even the larceny of brutish renegades of triumph sink beneath the brevity of accident rather than the fortitude of globalized turpitude weakened by the improper demarche of fuliginous homeless depredation of innocent bystanders flocking to the harvest of war found in insight rather than the perfunctory bromidrosis of the macroscian enmity of hidden maleficence spawning a credenda that is spayed on arrival in the faineant zoolatry of a spelunkers’ madcap dash to flex the filigrees of turmoil in resentment of the amicable truces of a God who never tempts and a lurking lie that never itches for trigger-happy hapless rebukes because the skittish skirmish of futilitarian repose is a scoundrel of the profligacy of errant weakness blinkered by the humdrum din of deafening semaphores of provocative thornbush on the threshing floor of cowardly imposture president of all affairs of spirit and all renegades of caitiff megalography of forgotten oblivion despite the curglaff of vindictive and never vindicated assaults on the integrity of the birthright of Lebanon to wager a presumptive gamble of trifling retribution for the alacrity of suspicions eloping with forbidden mistresses in the humdingers of flackey rather than the troudasque harbinger of a lunacy impugned by a restive triumphant fallow time seasonable for a litany of pretenses demassified for a liturgy of seances with eldritch commiseration in the saw-toothed serration of selachostomous bravado wielded by likely or unlikely culprits of ravenous ruin shepherded by the guilty cardinal sins of the complicity of explosive vanity marauding on the ruins of a fortress debased by pettifoggery of internal excuse rather than the wrath of provocative ire in the irksome cauterized wounds of the inured to deliver spectacular reticence despite such grievous diacope. Evil gilderoys of maleficence carve the sapwood of the periphery to aimless subversions miscarried by the modern atrocity of glamour memorialized as a sound-byte underminnow of a roaring rhombos rip tide as stocks wavy at the curvature of edgy demarche despoil the denuded wasteland of cultural despondency a wagtail to the impudence of famigerated affronts that deserve a sterling recompense wielded by the onerous and operose burdens of a prone decubitus of aboriginal bread seeded from Heavenly realms dissipating into the roars of blinded conflagration too meek to even exist on the ramshackle hillside of a barnstorm of aggression powerless to encapsulate the nexility of unspoken allegiance to destruction rather than the halidom of consecrated marriages balking at the caulked provisions of a slugabed monolith of craven capers on the recesses of abeyance in the interregnum of a time where famous people communicate with me. How can such a charismatic bravado of lurking presidency stoop to the denizens of usufruct in licentious latitudes on the outskirts of consideration even pretend anymore that the vacuum of effluvium (Gal 6:7) can be mocked and milked into the row of centuries blistering through the calenture of apprisal and heaved awakening as the zephyrs of the Occident meet temporal juncture with the coenesthesia of a hibernating trumpery formed by the turnverein of listless lethargy billowing through fumiducts of siphoned lavaderos of hypogeiody that the underground spasms of cacophony could marvel at the historic emergence of a magnate with the most powerful magnetism of God shepherding the true flock John 10:27 because he is willing to be the good shepherd and potentially die for his sheep John 10:11. Remember, whenever you hear a Queer Studies Radical Feminist bloviate on emasculated sardanapalian posture John 8:44 and even though personified as a masculine titan of bulwarks of immense otiose wilted inkburch shielding the world from true meaning, the maskirovka of the Devil is present in the dark trespasses of personal abandon among the wilderness of many marsupial jackals of martles wagtails to an invictive proclamation of invulnerable sappy sopanaceous filibusters against hefty sinew forged the bony fragments of the charnels lost to brief epitaphs never mourned in threnodies worthy of remembrance that the departed died with us and live again through us whether in Heaven as participant or on Earth as an acting battalion of the skullduggery of the mystique of shimmers of God acting on Man’s behalf 1 Col 1:15-16. That the firstborn of all creation obtains supremacy through the finalisms that I seek as the captain of trailblazing untrammeled roads we are reminded of the narrow and wide gates expanded by the explosion of thought that trespasses into the hidebound ratchet of a reasonable bleat becoming a harsh outcry of justice for Lebanon that they feel so powerless in implosion what could aggrieve potentate civilizations to the precipice of global maleficence in destruction. Swarming for alveolate hominid hominism as an outgrowth of alienation by design polarized spectral dangles at jaundice flamestun by the ordeal of oppositive barnacles to the chryselephantine habituation of a masked menace of Procrustean authority to muzzle the free license of armamentariums of a latent man keen to the kenspeckel visibilia that we might have punctuation in the poised primiparas of a hearkened unprecedented in modern history that the traipse of lapse is no longer the tenure of mindless calculation of authoritarian gabble sentries of a mobilized fleet of embodied human ignorance but a foisted sprite of whangams of apothegm that deserve in their gnomic respite from the phenakisms of a philogeant kumbaya assertive in its treony of radical compassion for those who dwell in tentpoles of revelry bound not to the covenant that sent us into light and sparkling in hidden obsolescence that the fulgurant words of Mount Horeb (Sinai) are both immaculate and without trace of sin because Acts 17:30 declares a powerful truth lost to the twinges of time that issued peremptory governance of my theology but through remission I admit the grievances of septiferous blockades of ponderous plodding nescience haunting the spectral aubades of paeans to a high-flown sun darting through galactic space apace of the velivolant sails of divine wind that come in the spree of recompense authored by the vines to which all roots belong rhizogenic and immutable because the demarches of time forget the marches against the cauterized grime of new-world suspicions of aleatory fickle gubernatorial proclamations that issue reverb more than sprinkle flanged atrocity in the sight of the holy ramparts of an active double-edged God who reminds us of our many witnesses but provides not a single latchkey of escapism resident to many hapless homes of the drunken sing-song rhapsody nullifying the psychotaxis of the motatory miserly Draconian charades of Leviathan grasping the tridents of warp-speed revisionism in a benighted world overrun by mandarist fictions that fumigate a pasteurized control of cultural malcontent in situations of dearth infested by the concentration camps of China that remain unheralded in brumal and brutish indoctrination spared from worldwide outrage by the tribunes that are complicit more in malfeasance than they are celebrated for the herald of heinous bletcherous crimes of abecedarian abligurition anointed in waste rather than refined like unquenched slakes of eternal water so that no man can thirst hungry for the daily bread without returning to the providence of God awakened. Recalcitrant by the impudent quislings of repugnasket flarmeys of advenient flummoxed besieged clairvoyance I bask and beaze on the light that never fades because of the brackish whisk of a barnstorm of allegiance that is contumely to a bromide society listless in inferiority of intellect to my former streaks beyond jejune reiteration of the Jehu mentality against the canine fate of Jezebel and her faltered ministry of ewnastique waged as battalion gore of a trifling musket of an aboriginal swim through the oceanic gaze of peerless eternity squirming because of flagging resolution among the spandrels of incommunicable largesse lolloped extravagantly not just for the spoils of hyped pedigree but also a chamade to Heaven to enlist the purblind vestiges of a crambazzled Earth rejuvenated in adolescent esprit rather than callow eclat against the outrecuidance of whimpered miserly conscientiousness that exists in a shorter frame of reference than the provident dashes through a furlough of time and ancestry to cobble together a lapidary bristling excoriation of the tumescent squabbles of mystique brave enough to rarefy the humid pasteurization of a mannequin kenspeckel still-frame jilt of jostled infamy brusque in its curt envies borne of still-born promenades of a whasper between the youthful ligony and the intrepid soul of a collective warrior debased by the adscititious participant to elegant effronteries of the newfangled intellectual vogue that is the grombang of the tralleyripped hamshackle of ostentation meeting mirrored paralysis in sheepish ewnastique creations meddlesome in their ironic frizz of recursion as I lounge on the habits of creation by intelligent lurches of design that appointed the demarcations of all creatures and the mysterious bridge between the missing links that remain elusive to the flombricks of the misery of epigenetic rhizogenic imparlance of desuetude cringing at foresight littered with the disaster of ravished hindsight blushing at the limpid degeneration of the vapid varnish of benighted ligony rather than heroic strides of stoic-epicurean compromise in the apolaustic pursuit of the one eternal God present in rebellion but never the temptress of mendacity and mendaciloquence because the tug I have on speed is ratifying a cauterized casualty in the spumid betrothed wicked snuffs of extinguished furor for a time beyond barnstormed racloir rugged origination and faulty phenogenesis that escorts mythos into actionable litanies of the awakened breed scoffing at the inkburch of “Electrolytes”-wernaggle that besets the queer fascinations of a warped generation. The pytherian swank of artrench embodied in the recocted rendevation of hypetrophy in hubris swaddled by the reductive dranger polluting the realm of compliant complicant complaints of the ashowel of albatross astroud in the hibernaculum of langlauf rather than the ultramontane fiduciary tether to the estrockentch rather than the laureates of plevisable courage found in truest shades of vinsky not the subhastation of a gaslighted galvanization of purebred classy swivels of opportunism nor the ravenous incubus appetite for usufruct in subversion belongs to the behest of an insular nesiote flexing the flux of subversion as the candid posies of saccharine immodesty become relegated figments of the everlasting age of promised propriety rather than rigid stultimathy of hackencrude virtues of virtuosos that marvel at troudasque wonders occluded by the girlcott of Team Biden and his militarized soldiers of desiccation of trumpery and the faucets unbounded by swanky concealed epithets of regaled rentgourge by a hapless objection of the runic destruction of apothecary leniency becoming of the betokened emblazonry of scrimshank in every perfuncturation but embodiment of character shouldered by every chasm of power erected in demolition of the warped egintoch radicalism of the submerged wernaggles of the hopeless minority swimming with autodimplage few have to bear but the truest flock of God heeds my voice and has the sapience to spare themselves of contumely and invective to hearsay of invictive triumph beyond radioglare swirk to renege the musical providence of the chamades to the asterongue I often take for granted by immunifacient degrees of the foretold encroaching upon the crux of a pivotal and pivoted destiny not distant from cordial providence. The sweedle of epigones for the risctender of obligation to subvert the coryphaeus with the rigmarole of gentincture borrowed from the Gates’ formulaic effleck of perverse warbles of collectivized contrition for abetted cultural pederasty limpid in its achieved objective of the crudenzy borrowed from a lacking impediment to arentrum belonging to the knowledgeable happenstance of the glorified dengonin is a denostram that forestalls the agelasts behind porsters of culture rather than legitimate mainlined contamination of wellsprings of fliction of paranoiac enthusiasm might swim in kinkativy blinkered blind piebald girouettism but never dauntless in sematic entrenchment of robust dilettantism as the swaddled corrugation of time into centripetal ****** against centrifugal modernism that alienates propriety while estranging by vacuous vacuums the outspoken progeny of the surviving age beyond the Jay and Silent Bob travesty that manifests as a glower of menacing Bushian invention to tarnish with ****** mythos the drapes of a defenestrated realism of the flinkers of sheepish indignation against many drakstings of intonorous sclerotic mandibles of crackjaw chockablock annihilation of core precepts and institutions indelible from the face of a quixotic entreaty of a ragged intrusion of ageotropic monoideism above the secular-clerical fidelity of honest witness borne of triumph and tribulation festooning the nativist hyperbole into a useless effigy of mountebank imposture silly in precision and purblind to gallantry. Yet I must kisswonk rather than truckle under such ponderous pretense because of a sertivine certainty in the thickets of prudence rather than the tomfoolery of humgruffin impudence scaffolds me to a post-modern ****** that shanks through prisons of guilt and burrows an interrogation of reality supreme over all complaint that the virtuosity of the Gifted (the elect flock that comprehends my volcanic diatribes against mandarism and stomachs them without sardonic pastorauling insults of passerby vicissitude) will spare many nations of awakened perjury against human instinct in the fitness of nations to denigrate the populist squalor of lurid and livid ewnastique wernaggles of the listless buttress against my formal modesty encouraged in all affairs even in aggrieved humility belonging to intimidation rather than spawned jostles through the rumpus of shunamitism that might rankle a later age.  Yentrified morality is a personal flapdoon against the promiscuous pederasty of freewheeling ophelimity and the lurking narquiddity of the traindeque of donnist hedonism to hijack my psychedelic tolerance into an unwarranted and inadvisable sanction into the netherworld of the frinterans of cultural modality that curdact religion into a cosmetic cosmogony rather than a soldiered infamy becoming a beacon on a towering hill growing in solidarity with the pleonasm of existence itself which surpasses crude formulas that already abide by the riches of decorum too much to be admired as trigger-happy fools run the asylum of domesticated irony and the librettos to downfall rather than the wassails of “The Man” becoming more masculine in featured charisma rather than defiled against Leviticus among others who preach belonging to nuclear creed without fission but for true rapprochement to the fusion of the treony with legitimate gripes of unsung complaint among the masculine minority. The traindeque of a baseline complaint aggrieved by the kilmarge carapace of stiltanimity for the hackencrude resentment of the inkburch of illiteracy is a profligate degeneracy lurid in hyped enmity that the envied entreaty becomes the despotic shadow masquerading in shadows blossoming into the full wisdom of the mature sophrosyne heart eager to pour out blessings upon a conservation of recycled epitaphs becoming hearsay in a rebarbative convolution of redacted rigmarole incendiary to whittled henpecks of political engineering but never vapid in their flagging insistence upon an ecumenical toleration of the brooks of modernity and compromise upon which much felicity is aggrandized and permuted against the spoilsport frinterans who encage a dodgy moralism in wilted etiolated jaunty pedigree that espouses the maudlin grievous and ghastly ghouls and sprites that haunt the fictional hobgoblins of the Potemkin Village that finds usury convenient and perjury even more facile for the glib facetious engineers of modalities of hatred unsung by the ribald witwanton “I got a Solution...You’re a ****…South Carolina What’s Up” crowd that never marvels at ingenuity or rarely attempts it in the summit of the climacteric jaundice of hidebound whemmles of ridicule sparring against spartan flagitious wiseacres of genocide of ideation for the revelry of armed missives denatured by raw promotion of the questionable ethics of a flavork of needed slakes of unquenchable desire swarming us with daily temptresses not of wayward women but the disarmed pretense of a lapidary rejoinder to a long expatiation or harangue against hackencrude curdles of rowboat injustice masquerading as sentinel savory destruction of the towering edifice of proclamation. There is great menace in the casuistry of sophist philogeant philocubists dicey with destiny for mincemeat puppetry against sciamachy for the gallionic rise of gammadions in the craven lore of baseline pasquinade rallied to the insuperable causes of tribal shibboleth anointed by secular totemisms of fracture and fricative hisses of lineage that amount to pleonasms of brassage rather than mystagogical mystique of the prestige of human fraternity that shatters paradigms of creed and invites an honest vestige of Noble Savages to roam the Earth yet again unencumbered by lugubrious welters of misnomer and malapropism wagered by artifices of guileless supremacy that is cursory prima facie neglect of even the sororal duties not of sophomoric glib facetious cowardice of backbited backlash of venom militarized for the desuetude of entertained visagists sculpting *****-nilly their version or verdict of decisive apartheid when we should all rally behind the united frontier of the chosen flock in the chosen generation to truckle beneath the pews not of ignorance aggravated by the polluted kilmarge egintoch puritan barbs against publicity choices I now regret (as an emolument to an incredibly euphoric track with a poor miserly message to the enchanted flock inoculated from such diversions) because alighted upon the quenched thirst of salvation I will be judged more harshly as a teacher James 3:1 than the rest of my flock but gifted with the gratuitous salvation carved from the chiselers of ribald infamy capering around with dacoitage and ladronism of the bomans of unsuspecting quixotic caprice I must reckon with the burden of ghoulish shadows on the spectral imprint of my eternal soul relishing in vicarious splendor yet bereaved of quintessential love 1 Cor 13:4 that is necessary for the nuclear conclamation of vibrant hues of resplendent and refulgent providence necessary not from a dynastic perspective but from an aimed providence that alerts dynamism rather than chides with mimes of useless schadenfreude carved from the prestidigitation of the wicked condemned in Galatians 6:7 for the mockers of sanctanimity accorded upon me as gratuity that no man can boast my elite ears and my astute wonderworks of imagination qualified me for prophecy and among the most mesmerizing prophecies registered to fulfillment that the world has ever yet witnessed because the watershed isn’t a bridgewater for the chavish of ignoramus hatred congealed into thrombosis but the narrowed gate enlarges to encompass the swath of man amenable to the flocks that escort me into permanence rather than regale the tridents of a hedonism that elected me clairvoyant at a cost of immaculate splendor registered to the holy clergy of the Sacred Catholic Church and the broader Ecumenical Endeavor that tries to be a seamstress and bridge elemental divides inherent to divided approaches to liturgy which flex their strengths in times of robust fortitude rather than become a subhastation to the vestiges of the pilgrimage to false tabernacles erected by people cozened into charlatan endeavors by the pernicious and persnickety whiplash of Least Common Denominator subversion of widely heralded sentience and sapience enriching the lot of human ambition rather than stoking useless conflagrations of refracturism accorded to the swallock of primposition of the hackneyed hackencrude that swivels with the odious ornery pretense of overtures not to apertures and lychgates of the true abiding Heaven felt on Earth by many Christians whether in sobriety or not without the evil maleficence of a misguided donnism of narquiddity for the grambazzles of aged recklessness aborning on vacant responsibility that is rickety in its magnanimity of absolution because of the ulterior chase for bottom-line top-dollar oligochrome foisted by the cartels that blind true spiritual insight from ever reaching the magnitude of ambition required to shape mountains of revolution among the tertiary squabbles of a conversant Earth open to the troudasque gallop into yield and cloveryield for repcrevel reforms the paludism of the swamp remains skittish about conforming to because objectivism is a renegade of perspicuous light blinkering in hubris and gourmandizing the hinderbaggle of cosmetic pollutions aggravated by the plevisable articles of envy and TLDR politics to “Electrolyte” logic that is a sad recursive wernaggle of the useless buffoonery of humgruffins of tatterdemalion spate rollicking in the magpiety of a timid consentient faltering myth of unanimity among the beleaguered rainbows of many lugubrious tears showering bickering blasphemy upon the mockery of God for the pleasantry of self-aware sheepish resignation that professes only that any form of meritocracy is existentially unfounded only because the beehive elected its progeny the scepter of the ironclad kingdom that wages war against idolatry and serenades heaven with luxury simultaneously. We are all shepherds of providence and there is power enough in collective prayer that we don’t fiddle around with bodewash in mistaken identity but riddle the persnickety blemish of the fastidious critiques of biting sarcasm as a tantamount blasphemy and a criminal repartee of sardonic cloys of inanity foisted above truth. The peevish breedbates who scour my evidentiary pillar of chiseled vertebrae of unbroken bones of solidarity with oikonisus will be sorely disappointed in their truthful audits of my true perception because in every single case it exonerates me from the pulpit of menacing idiots who scrawl random gabble in attempts to sound smart while reeking of iniquity wrought by the gavels of predevoted inferiority of complexion and attitude that gravitates them to an insensate benumbed transmogrified bailiwick of an appalling atrocity of mythomaniacal myths spurned by consensus among those who prize my grandeur above the superstitions of the illiteracy of the rancid rankle of otiose stupidity writhing its own sheepish envy of arbitrary dislike motivated by feminist aggressors waging warfare on turf I already conquered by swaying the intelligentsia to beckon my cause rather than pillory me on a false scaffold of frinteran abuses of the nyejays of bernacle that junediggle in the taradiddle of the nanciful excoriation of my leaden corpse weighed down by the witchcraft of connivance trayning its own delicate myths while avoiding scrutiny for appalling contumely that deserves an audience more suited for fracklings of treony belonging to the trinkochre of the rising alienation and suicides among perverted gay indoctrination that is a scourge on the planet because it willfully denies with its portentous hibbles the regaled wisdom of the culminated age against renegades of apostasy and for the behemoths of true monumental change that sizzles in savory circles among the vanguard only to alarm the Status Quo hijack of my entire endeavors as a covert crusade to use wrecking-ball fashion tactics to cosmetically incisively and insidiously perform a harprick of surgery upon a blameless countenance only for being a thorn to wragatek wragapole slavery which wages war against universal salvation because it gripes with inkburch and circular pleonasms about the most obvious glaring lies and feasts upon the serrated edge of the capers of hatred that frolic in meadows too skittish to enter the barbarian fortress of my forested residence robust in fortitude and glowering with a menacing contempt for runaround psychobabble that obganiates the obelisk of the moribund crusade to make normative ethics effeminate and to enthrone inviolable women’s speech as supreme to any male objections like the Cristiano Ronaldo accuser that came forth 8 months after #MeToo one of the most dishonest campaigns in modern history enthroned by Hollywood elites in gammerstang insurrection against pay-gap ethics done manipulatively with the sapwood of mendaciloquence like Blasey Ford whose physiognomy reeked of maudlin pretense that was so ornery in how obvious of a maleficence the intrepid Abortion Agenda has over the minds of selfish women who prefer ecbolic second-term abortions to the servile gripes of primiparas building new life rather than tearing down the scaffolds of new generations. Hominism deserves its rise because-in increasing numbers-men are derelicted by society and coerced into vapid tallespin enslavement that ridicules itself with the perjury of soul to the soulless vanity of recursive cycles of benumbed narquiddity found in “****** Hero” among other atrocities littering the human fascination with the hinderbaggle of our polluted age verging on totemic blistering hegemony of a few rotten apples corrupting the vagrant ingenuity of the forgotten champion who ushered in a new era of candor in the attempted interregnum of the United States government because I Am Hollywood got the name correct considering how many memorials there are to me in the movie industry. The junediggles of sc-ha-den-freud-e which is as deliberate of a German pun as JUDEn JuDEN which shows the German language is as farsighted as you can get and why many of my neologisms have a German tinge to them. German is an elegant language with botched syntax but a peerless repertoire of vocabulary and even though I love French, the Germans are smart because their language is smart not just because of petty arguments of pedigree which are specious at best. Being dontolesque with  the zenkidu of rengall nauclatic mythos is an artful degree which accords nominal prestige to licentiates while excorifying the obvious metaphors of sunblind logic that scours the scorched Earth of internet diatribes of sophistry and dethrones the Marcie Biancos of the world “Heterosexuality is officially OVER...K Bye” with her 145 IQ and a Stanford Degree in Queer Studies (A professed atheist by her own Twitter admission) with the warped logic to equate a heterosexual relationship for a woman as ******* to patriarchy. For someone that well-studied in literature she sure is a dumb-*** and I will demolish the syntagma of those that root against me for Status Quo preservation in the official interregnum of Saturdays during the Trump Presidency. We need an official referendum on the ideas of termagant illogical anti-egalitarian poison that derives from a deracinated worldview that doesn’t contextualize how powerful language is at shaping thought because if the entire world were Anglophonic every single country on Earth virtually would see immediate dividends in terms of intellectual creativity and limber with concepts and percepts because it is no accident the most successful empire in History the United Kingdom, was favored because of its shibboleths of Shakespearean creativity draped with flairs of the irreverent while gilded by God to be a majestic commonwealth. England and France monopolized a huge majority of history by no accident because although English might be a slightly keener language the French culture of salons of freewheeling intellectual enlightenment gilded the 17th and 18th centuries into absolution despite the Panglossian epithets of Voltaire who was ironically dissuaded from religion because of the All Saints Day 1755 Lisbon Earthquake and Tsunami. We need to be vigilant against encroachments of perceived shibboleths and more keen on an affirmative meritocracy that favors the poor and blesses the meek in their poverty and inspire ambition among them to join the coteries of refinement in thought sometimes harder to achieve with crackjaw lollops in pleonasmic languages that fail to articulate with nexility or forceful wit the true abstractions that govern the pataphysics of the unknown. Language is so decisive over human thought that it is incumbent upon every language to refine its vocabulary to trayne compendious verbiage and trim the hedges of global reform to invite the curiosity of the age to favor all creeds and languages of Abraham and the diverse progeny of a variegated panoply of majestic feats common to all parlance and capacity beyond just the Anglophonic snare because the world needs not a chicanery of blustering churlish buffoonery but an Almighty respect for the consanguinity of all to God’s blessed creation that he inseminated by his deliberate hands to enrich the world with diversity rather than cleave the world with piecemeal skeumorphs of radical propaganda that opposes the modern and post-modern egalitarian streak. One wrong must be corrected, however, the underrepresentation of Hispanics in the media and in film because this grave error is much more pervasive than the ******* LGBT inclusion narrative because these days the lollygags of fashionista odalisques with Obelisks to Baal get more say over the common decorum than the marginalized bronteum of the  rich and vibrant Latino culture which is squelched by the poverty of media and Hollywood representation. Synectics showcases how a henpecked aim at the synaesthesis of culture congregated around our Almighty Father blessed among the nations who adhere to the progeny of Abraham can be more blessed when working together rather than tribal with nepotism and aristocratic in sustained affronts to the elevation of affirmative meritocracy to the forefront of discussion rather than the froward backlash of benumbed narquiddity because the synallagamatic nature of complexity needs to be devolved with industrious ambition to all cultures and the savory flair of the vogue needs not merely a wednongue fascination with an eventual terminus of crudenzy but a sustained intellectual reformation on all fronts to standardize the English language through Hollywood and the Music Industry so that the dragnets of appeal etch a permanent trace into the engraved souls of the true flock John 10:27 are consecrated in divine purpose to reverse the Babylonian Diaspora of confused and conflated purpose that stunts the raltention of humane course and the proper pataphysical syncrisis of an evolved mundane temperament that transcends the circular traps of circumlocution common to the milquetoast industrial titans who winsomely charm with toady gestures the elitism of a moribund philosophy of intellectual thought delegation to elevate the common rhetoric to reach new pinnacles in both tribune and political gamesmanship because higher standards are required even when they surpass some common understanding so that every ambition becomes a conclave for the goal of human unity solidified by the truth of the kerygma and proclaimed to all creation as the culminated synclastic reformation of the idea of indulgence and the propriety of regaled moderation that appeases the common decorum with a shared vested interest in Latin America especially which is besieged by the cultural tenets of obrogated specialization and denigrated by the common myths of warped phenogenesis which should be debunked as a wasm of hypocrisy limited because its callous tentacles lack the charismatic fulgurant equipment of future generations to bear the operose burdens of a quintessential time of harmony united by the hymns for God by God to appease the sentries in Heaven and the celestial realms that exist for our merriment more than our detriment. The sprauncy have the  frikmag to recognize the spuria of apocryphal heresies that encourage kinship above matriotism and shared fortitude for intellectual valor rather than “*** talk TLDR” hashtags abounding on the turf of the insensate wernaggle of clueless charlatans wiggling through life not because they were borne into slavery but because they choose to be Helicopter Parents of “Baby Shark” rather than token mantelpieces of enlivened culture shimmering with radiation of Gods glory as cemented in Colossians 1:15-16 because the firstborn of all creation lives in some form in the ligature of Christ 1 Cor 12:12 because there are so many talents that exist in our variegated world that the mastery of expertise in dominions of conversant fluency will abet the variegated crops of a draped humanity corrugated on its own ironies for the delicate sizzle of beatific felicity multiplying itself in centupled design over centuries to overcome hinderbaggle while realizing the fictions of some drawflark. The strigine world concedes to this upstart rooster maybe considered a parvenu of dearth but luxuriant in riches boundless to all that draw near to the kerygma of Christ and feast on his daily bread found throughout liturgy because we should listen to people like Cardinal Timothy Dolan who is exceptionally astute (perhaps an understatement) to guide us on a regenerative rather than degenerative pathway towards universal attempts at salvation that broach a new decorum bridged by aliens to select chosen emissaries to bridle the fissions of repartee reserved for the forlorn that balk at ambition rather than relish a new era of seditious determination against the determinist fallacy and for the mental health of those coping with autodimplage and sheepish regrets and persnickety articles of remorse because all the world deserves our consolation and desperate attention rather than the trumpery of the circus masquerade of marauding agitprop which congeals into thrombosis of toxicity as the vast majority of Democrats refuse to even hear Trump speak when he is discussing discursive solutions to enigmatic quagmires,for, if more people listened to Trump they would be disabused by the specious claims of his misogyny and white allegiances because his candor is brilliant and despite the prominent advocacy of Biden who has considerable prestige in my memory, we deserve a bipartisan syncretism that unites the world and unifies the country away from the swerve of salacious mythos and towards a rambunctious magpiety of solidarity against the secular humanism of a defunct piety to Marxist feminism which is a crudenzy among the awakened men around the world increasingly alienated by the hackencrude of wednongue illiteracy even trumpeted by the vanguard as panacea when it is a comestible form of poison. We need visionary unity where there was once toxic divisive balkanization of exclaves of limited foresight clashing with new wave awakening to the persecution of illumination itself for not a rigid hierarchy but a flexible structure of inclusion that adjusts to cultural expectancy and modifies the traindeque that strands many in institutionalized poverty especially in Latin America and India and obviously Africa too. The stegophilists of language should herald the aubade of the chavish of redintegration over the squawk of din of squabbles of internecine redacted revisionism beleaguering our lyceums with toxic agitprop even at the highest institutions of learning who balk often at the recycled auditorium of useful thought because their venal tilt is complicit in squelching freedom of thought and our schools should open early so that zig-zag-zoom politics around feldtrounds who are eagerly outnumbered by the patrons who police thought become agentic not with outspoken treacheries but inseminations of intimation to hint at the spectral mystagogical reality we are all members of despite hurdles that beset the hemiteries of odalisques who seek inertia rather than mobilization. The ribald underminnow of transparency is a carcinogen of the rampant siege of Status Quo coarse hypocrisy for tentative flings with cadged cloyed saturnine professions of the landmines of atrocious miscarriage as I soldier on in the causes of the poor and the forlorn to become enriched by the glory that God delivers with munificence so that all might be enriched by the emanations of the true vine and in distaste of error I rebuke the armada of belittled armamentariums of the cantonment of deep-state breedbates boiling over potboiler frikmag that exists as a transcendent obscurantism flowering in decisive times to warp the contextual footprint of a life served in the service of all the oppressed people as a kind of Moses figure raised by the elite and fighting for the criminally oppressed and the ****** of mediagenic hyperbole is dissatisfied by my glowering spectacles because they dismount from the equipoise of the righteous gallop towards ecumenical solidarity at untimely punctuations of juncture superseding the flictions of frikmag dethroning my righteous valor and provident sanctanimity to prowl like predatory wolves the fathers of the casuistry of mendaciloquence to accentuate the stridor of inopportune squalor of the selachostomous regimes of teetotaler totalitarian freebooters who prevent bootstraps from manufacture as they gradgrind the world into ergonomic insufficiency while I provide a Kamacho-like galvanization to the broader world that favors the consanguinity of all animate sentience to the aboriginal vine of the universe that plays with the toyed cadge of oppositive support but lends credence to a more evolved view than the crudity of encapsulated travesties inserted with jaundice against the lyceum of freedom of thought and the celerity of headless horseman galloping in partial interregnum to crown the strobic stridor of the stiver of the steven of contarianism engineered for walloped ringleaders of the renegades of heresiarch sedition in their odalisque oaths to Pagan dieties carved from the sapwood of gullible Illuminati naivety that professes allegiance to the worst whangam ever invented Baphomet and his faked cronies of ewnastique free-for-all diminutive crags in the renown of dawning light becoming cagey struthious structuralism embedded in sclerotic wasms of the wanhope of a nullified message becoming a sacred creed to the attentive while the lilt of the otiose drawl in serpentine convolution a ribald pleonasm of circular circumlocution that provides locomotive linearity rather than leapfrogged slogmarches into the province of the territorial alignment of kinship against the partisan hollertrap and the stigmatophilia of obsessive persnickety popinjay beadledom the last stronghold of the rickety resistence to this Saturday interregnum which presides over the better part of the intelligentsia if not the common pedestrian parlance because hortatory weights cannot be described in any other way than metagnostic flickers of Yellow Submarine vandalism of a pristine living animation of the humane spirit that prizes the plight of the poor and the blarney and blench of unjust opprobrium faced by the institutionalized bailiwick of flictions of gammadion gallionic posture when in fact they register as seismic entities engraved upon my Christian conscience that strictly welcomes the emigrants to truth from whatever consecrated virtue they originate from because all are capable of the same light and the same compassion of a beatified humanity rather than the relish of deep-state castophrenia which belies its own ribald gay mockery on live TV as not a single twinge of ****** attraction overtakes me in matriotic sardanapalian effrontery of a hollow but sadly hallowed vainglory of the hierodules that bury the coffers of patriotism in a sad LGBTQ graveyard of landmines that demonstrate a complete disregard of the nuclear family and should be decried as an outcry against redefined Christianity bolted to unshakable irrefragable beliefs in the constitution of man and women wed together in one monogamous flesh with the occasional cuddle of close tithes to the ******* of friendship as the slavery of sin in Leviticus 20:13 falls to the wayside because this patriotic lewdness is a vapid fatuous derangement that is a new low for the United States attempt to inoculate China from religious accord with the broader world and should be seen as a Chinese maskirovka worthy of the heaviest disdain and I will disavow America if it continues to bandy the tripwires of Chinese boondoggles under the American banner and pretend its pretense isn’t lagging under its own bletcherous abecedarian elementary fallacy of psychobabble oblivion of dark saturnine brusque termagants of tatterdemalion cloaks of the selfsame illusion of a desperation of China to wreck the United States economy and inseminate Florida, Arizona and Texas especially with the Coronavirus to swing the election in Biden’s favor with or without US Complicity to expedite the course of a virus which sees no resurgence in any other civilized country in the world while the heroic Russians, Germans, Israelis, French, British and true American Christians banish the barristers of bad taste as an acerbic poison on the wellsprings of a flagitious flag I would kneel for in the knells of disgrace if the pompous and completely inoculated missives of Buttigieg ******* continue to roam shepherded by deep state elitism to wreck the opportune moment of religious revival for petty reasons of chryselephantine gambit and gimcrack for institutionalized poverty which my ambition is to heal completely by sacerdotal deeds and consecrated prayers in the Lord whose peace surpasses the temporal despair of senectitude and comforts the grievances of the aggrieved because Galatians 6:7 is no more true than the fatuous display of muscular idiots waving American flags for turpitude rather than flogging very perverse Gay men in the streets which might be a more fitting outcome even though I must remove the plank in my own eyes first to see the irony of the detested. The doytin is no longer misguided by the nanciful derision of the vociferous clangor of the venal Gates mafia militia wrecking ball vaccination Bezos crew in Medina which is a mettle I can’t match when you own every citizen in the world in a few square miles of nesiote territory the denizens of conquest besieging religious sanctity with profane outbursts of corruptible linchpins on the public lynch of the strepsis of periblebsis that vitiates commonwealths of supreme sputtering regimented clairvoyant superlative alabaster wealth of the isangelous protectorate of the supreme God that supervises his careworn flock into the storge against the scourge of prosodemic stigma stained in bleeding heart liberal bathed tears of pseudoautochiria of Jim Morrison glaring in the face of the triads that Killed Him in the French Connection ******* of 71’ that outnumbered his hobohemia of loyal jewish bohemians livid in the rhapsody of nurture rather than enfeebled by the unfurled destiny of the Soul Kitchen he foresaw to his own pitiable demise at probably the hands of strangulation because no autopsy was performed. Although repetitive Transparent is a real anthem for oracular mystagogical transcendence a mandatory hymn for the ryseolagnus of the poetic verve of a new wave swooning the cordial progressive of atmospheric oneness with the primordial vine and the vintners that congregate on populated soil to feed a desolate destitution of synoecy or synaesthesis in the syncretic rhapsody of the subfocal ageotropic plenilune yet saturnine lugubrious toil of those that shovel through the albatross of ewnastique recapitulation to the same tired “Its got what plants crave, it’s got electrolytes” wernaggle of the hopelessly dismal inkburch of illiteracy crawling like a Hyacinth House on a vacant graveyard turf guarding the legionaires of rapid-fire zig-zags through a serpentine curvature of the ligaments of fabricated space warped through prismatic lenses of aperspectival time aspiring for ventriloquial enamored rapture upon Earthly parallax with tapestries of refulgent cascading wandering wonder that meditates its own lucubration with careworn tutelage against the wasms of dying oleaginous swelters of redshort opportunistic vultures swooping with Raven’s claws against the odometer of viewership surpassing records in unspeakable wisdom that crowds out the crambazzle toonardical wreffelaxity of the tiresome nuisance of ornery brawn muscled into a formidable triage in vengeance for Jim Morrison’s scripted eviction from Earth either by poisoned ****** or by  Asphyxiation by the French Connection avenging RFK and the cultural revolutions of 67’ in Haight Ashbury and the widespread percolation of treacheries fathomed to the most obvious degree in showmanship that it bristled as an affront so severe that even the patronage of Paris wasn’t immune to infiltration. His threnodies will always be sung with Triumph that the hallowed day of a monumental soul eluding the darkness of purgatory into the welcoming aborning light of the noontide progeny of eternal ataraxia awaited him in the stagecraft tub of blasphemy bellowing ratcheted warnings that not even the palatine grasp of a potentially divine being was inoculated from the deep dark chasm of nefarious skullduggery for boasting so widely and openly of his professed foresight to glamorous to be hidden as the beacon of virtuosity that galvanized a generation to flout the  futtocks of a keelhauled vision of sanitized purblind mortality that the fear of death rarely crossed the mind of the greatest fearless poet of an entire epoch that we may pray that Jim Morrison feasts in Heaven atoned for his sins and is at peace with God now. The substratose congeniality of marginalia on the outskirts of pederasty in cultural miscarriage owned by hierodules boundless in their lurid debaucheries that they might be remanded for being custodians of hostage to a prolific nescience  reaffirming their dying posture in the extinction of sardanapalian coverthrow of repcrevel camorras of ladronism and dacoitage always cauponate in imbibed throes of lewd AstroTurf outrecuidance glowering at sanctity with a bereaved psychobabble divorced from the purebred empiricism of true giants of industry that are almost insuperable in their extortion that their darkness in deeds of Kobe Bryants assassination do not go unpunished at least in Los Angeles. His untimely death as with many others registered on the Richter Scale because Come Clean perverts from Kansas City wanted San Francisco to win to clean the mops of janitorial revenge of the subturbary rickety foundations of a flailing moral compass so wicked in arbitrage that no subreption undetected would flourish among capernoited vigilantes of poached titanism and illuminism scarring the vestiges of enigmatic encroachment upon untouchables daring the frights of the Living Daylights of scurrilous rebukes so scathing in their menacing depiction of negligent bromides of token sacrilege and scarred sacrifice of a scarecrow example of how the prosodemic scourge of befuddled turgid pristine transmogrified heralds scampered away with pseudoautochiria that afflicted Jimi Hendrix suspiciously as well. My support is behind the justice warriors aggrieved by the Beirut explosion because they deserve a vindictive outcome that quells the quislings of atrocity of the popinjay beadledom of the unspeakable tremors of seismotic popples of unrest warranted in Lebanon the homeland of Keanu Reeves a saint among men for his peerless grace and agraceries of the smog of myth evanescence becoming perdurable swings of the humdingers of berated jaundice becoming the prerogative of the revenge of a city leveled to the ground by suspicious skullduggery and I am surprised they lay dormant for this long in their protracted grievance over the ghoulish frights of one of the most unheralded major events in recent memory. We need to highlight the plight of Lebanon so that world leaders are frightened even of intimidated people tranquilized by terror rather than enlivened by the propriety of redacted rejoinders that serve the ulterior mission of a Titanic bravery that never sinks beneath the sumptuary treacle of grombang grambazzle and supercherie of the supercalendar of poignant repined repose derailing an emolument to ecumenical solidarity. Lets highlight Lebanon as an inexcusable trespass worthy of some mighty reckoning if not a riveted war but at the very least a devastated twinge of outrage.
Craig Verlin Jan 2014
there is no good love
anymore
all these little treacheries
scabbed wounds
scar and bleed and
the love is lost
in the hemoglobin

there's no good love
anymore
the drink and the
drive leave you
****** and forgotten
on the side of the motel room
picking at the scabs again

there's no good love anymore
all these little treacheries
like needles in the arm
or bullets in the brain
the act is drawn out
and overplayed
the women are all torn up
and ******* and
thrown out
they sit in leg crossed
anger in the corners
bitter and apathetic

there is no good love
anymore
to **** is to ****
everyone's running away
from something
the act is drawn out
the treacheries are
bleeding us all dry
and then you're hung
up like the carcass
in the butcher's freezer

there's no good
love anymore
no good no good
Jay M Wong Apr 2013
Oh dear calming waves that brush upon the shore,
And blooming flowers and overcampusing trees a'more,
And the pleasant smells of freedom and liberty,
And the numerous hearts of my civilians sincerely.
For the most safest of places, shall I call my home,
And deem no infliction upon such values of my own.
Until what horrors have drawn a near,
Until what treacheries are we to share,
For 'tis a place of safekeeping have we deem,
No longer holds its name at all does it seem.
And much like the Titanic of a poem from before,
Have these fated deaths have but fate to blame for.
Oh shall we never recall this city as a tragic place,
Nor recall the Boston Massacre of 1770 with haste.
For no sane of man shall the slaughterings enjoy,
And for no family of one shall the deaths rejoice.
Remembrance of our people and our city's name,
Are we to call another terrorist is to blame?
Are we to call that be but the doing of tragic fate,
Or the will of God and towards our ideals He hate.
Or shall we blame it for the naiveness of us all,
Thinking that terror only upon namely's does it fall,
But for a city shall its peoples stand a'mass strong,
And rise from the ashes of horror and continue living on.
And shall we take the tragic seeds of what was left to sow,
And grow'st the blooming rose from the ashes as a whole.
A tribute to the Boston Marathon injuries and/or deaths and to their loved ones.
Elsie Greek Aug 2022
The simple is crafty,
It's driven by thriving,
It's cool and it's artful
Envisioning the sublime.

Allow me be simple now,
That's not outrageous.
All sorts of one substance,
All forms of dim treacheries.

A smooth olive sparkle,
Not the one with the edges
Abiding with the peeves,
Deeply drowned in dry Martinis.

Too diligent to continue
Because if a life is only simple,
It becomes completely unbearable.
Taste makes me feel all the complexity
Of it, but the simplicity is just a scale
At which I am capable to create.
Am I in Love?

At night, laying sleepless,
I bemoan the treacheries of life
with my love
and appreciation....
And though,
in my dark,
and cavernous foundations;
Roar the pillars of stone,
and shake them.

Waked,
by curiosity,
and interest,
I stare intently at you,
and though I cannot see,
You are there.
Tangible,
by my creativity,
and invisible,
by my negativity.
And through the secret game
that to many, has forbidden name
we speak.

Fear,
and pride,
my greatest hatreds,
now run through me,
though the game of
Predator, and Prey.
I am the prey,
of myself,
in the black vapors
of my confusion,
you two rought me
with confusion
elaborate,
and woe,
despicable.
My thoughts now strand
off into many divisions,
all joining together,
to reveal my fear,
of disappointing you.

The thing we connect through bings,
and so we remain in contact, it seems.
But ever, we thought beautiful
I am marred, and proved untruthful.
You do not deserve me,
but somehow
in this void-feeling heart of mine,
I sense you care.
I care.

Am i in love?

My Mind craves you,
and I put much emphasis on that,
for that, might,
just might,
be my undoing.
Should I look to the East,
to find you, riding, in
shining, and metallic armor,
And see only dust clouds
roam aimlessly from North to South.
But I hear banners, in the West,
all risen high,
as high hopes,
and high spirits,
to guide them.
This, is what I've waited for,
for years,
as do we all.
But my misinterpretations,
now lead the banners,
with silver swords,
bearing the name of hate.
with this,
I deserve only
to lay my head down,
lamely, for you to hew it
from me, and call it,
Victory.

This, I forsee,
this unsensible
and crazed
sight,
that passes through me,
and guides me
to all darker paths of light.
So that I may be dimmed,
and in a cycle refrained,
I should, as a doomsayer,
say my doom,
and I, as a fool,
should subconciously make that true.

This is what I see.
I fear, for you,
and fear,
for me.

I burden all, though a child
and my will is heavy, upon you,
and wild, is my desires
and should you penetrate my curtains,
you should see,
the cold bitterness, of my truth.

But all the while,
mind and soul crave you,
and body revives,
slowly,
but surely.
I sense love,
and my stomach churns,
knowing I shall hang my head
in Guilt.

Am I In Love?
woolgather Jul 2016
I've known of the man called Freedom,
His eyes pristine and his hands of good gesture,
He gave to all he ever saw,
Even those who wished he'd be dead.
You see, Freedom is a nice man,
He had given us the chance to be one,
Yet some see him as a hindrance,
That he'd be the one to cut the bridge to their horrid ambition.
It's true Hell's already empty,
The Devils are already here!
And they'd tied Freedom to the podium!
And they'd ready their  flames and *****!
"Witness! As this hell of a saint be exposed before your very eyes!"
The Demons wailed and shouted.
"Light the flames! Expose his treacheries!"
As the demons hissed and the ***** lighted.













Freedom speaks.











Friends, my brothers, people of all brethren,
Ramble not, for I shall tell you truth.
Ebb is the fierceness you encounter,
End is the beginning of your hate.
Dawned to me, you have lost your innocence,
On the edge of light and darkness;
Mourning am I to you all.

Never the same are your reasons to fight,
Earnest are you to your reasons,
Vague, yet, are your answers.
Earthbound will be your rationality,
Revolving in wrong, your right.

Demonstrate not crudeness, but kindness,
Ice the hatred and let the good burn within you.
Enough of the foul that has come to be,
Sing the words that are your harmony.













All is silenced.

















Freedom opens his eyes.
The flames, gone.
The hissing, deafened.





















Freedom, is you.
The shots have been fired. Liberation will not be silenced.
woolgather Jun 2017
I won't bleed
So don't worry about me;
I won't bleed
So it's fine if you hurt me

I won't feel
When you leave me
I won't see
The treacheries you'll be giving me

So let me rot
In my pedestal
Let them do what they want to me, it's fine
I don't bleed

I won't bleed
No point worrying about me;
I won't bleed
So hurt me

I won't bleed
My blood won't come gushing out
On the wounds and scars
You made for me

I won't bleed
So do as you please
I won't bleed
I'm already dead
It ran out a long time ago
I don't know
Why when I mop
It doesn't glow,
Why even without a bottle cap
Your memories
In bubble wrap
I cannot pop,
And thinking
And missing
I cannot stop,
In my surroundings
There are simply
Everywhere treacheries,
Betraying you like Wingdings;
Or that too obvious undercover cop,
But in my mind you are fading faint
Forgot if your face is smooth or dimply,
Like my heart enveloped you in packing peanuts,
Left my straight jacket at home cause it's warm outside
But I know you know that I know that only for you I'm nuts,
And I await you like patient zero awaits a cure at the airport curbside...
© okpoet
Kelly Michelle Mar 2013
HE              SHE               WE

Seek shelter through the storm



EYES         CAN'T         SEE

Nature's wisdom as she forms



PARTS          BREAK          FREE

Amongst debrie of broken dreams



NEW       LIFE      BREATHES

Amidst decaying, dead treacheries



WHY          ASK          WHY

Layers pile one upon the last



RAIN       TEARS       DRY

Each new life fed by its past



A        STRANGENESS       TO

This rythm, this bittersweet song



PRIMITIVE        IS        TRUTH

We live and die yet always belong
Maria Shabalin Feb 2021
Desire I have to be a great,
Desire, lost and won.
I have it in my heart,
For in my many lives I have seen
What treacheries come about
When it may run deep.
I know this place feels foreign,
For I am of seventeen.
I have not made a home,
And there is none to be seen.
Desire for a home arises,
And I must put it away,
For love of all things is to
The poets dismay.
We all love desire, and,
We desire to die,
For we do not know,
Or, perhaps do not have
The means to live.
Desire is the root of all suffering.
I hear the muffled voices of distance
Snickers of the devils, the mockery of my existence
I could fade into mist, let blood feed on my soul
The treacheries of the present dig in the flesh of my form, a hole.
Cries of my smile go unnoticed, the tyranny of my heartbeat
Treated with apathy; I’m falling into the numbness of where I reside,
In this tormented abode, on an overcast, cold street.
A sardonic camaraderie is what I’ve accepted, with the masked creatures of being
That surround me; they lick my bones
While I walk the pathway of malice, at me, they throw stones.
I weep, gather my gait, my thoughts
Trying to awaken the carcass of my lungs that have been smothered, trampled upon
By the seize of their condescending eyes and uncouth manifestations.
I am hurting, falling, burying myself into the ground
To see what I can see, the teardrops of my endurance,
There they have left dots.
Umi Jul 2019
= )
A gloomy soul for an unnamed vessel,
A decaying mind with the will to wrestle fate,
Aimlessly walking beyond the scene,
Forgotten or discarded by anyone they've seen,
Just the painful memories, coming from the treacheries,
A sip of hot chokolate makes them think,
Why am I to enjoy this drink,
It doesn't matter, it will never be,
With such determination they must flee,
To a happy place without even dreams,
To an unknown darkness and where it streams,
Not giving up, their will becomes stronger,
Not even accepting this any longer,
Yet, one cannot chose who they are in this world,
Burning my tongue I softly smile,
It's a beautiful day outside.

~ Umi
Gabriel burnS Aug 2017
She keeps hijacking the most pure
Of my metaphors
I wonder if she
Sells them in slavery
To him;
Forced into prostitution
To the ****;

Who sells their own children
To their lover/business partner?
My only weapon is now
Saying the truth out loud

She offers him stolen
****** expressions
as sacrifice
but they were mine
I grew and nurtured them
I fostered and guarded them
And she took them away

They were merely thoughts
in my garden with osseous walls
I showed them to her,
gave them her tears
and her smiles,
gave them her names;
She picked them and ran,
claimed them not even
all for herself…
but for him…
the foreign body

This is merely one
in a line of treacheries
and I will no longer
allow her to fall
any further
into this monstrous
scar of transgression.
they die like fish out of the water... for you cannot replace a bird with a mermaid... and each ecosystem has its own equilibrium... the context is fragile and volatile...
Conor Cleveland May 2012
I'm done with this pain,
I don't know why I just can't seem to fit,
I'm a hopeless cause on this worldly epidemic,
The rain cannot fulfill my sorrows,
For my heart urns for the wrong thing,
I just can't seem to be happy knowing who I am,
Growing up in a nowhere land,
I just can't understand how I got this way,
Slowly driving myself off to never land,
I feel as if the inside of me has been dieing,
This could be the last nail in my sacred coffin,
Let this be the most dangerous thing that lets me go,
Ill live forever in my secret ways oh so clever,
As I lay as a corpse would,
And listen to the world run rampant in its own filth,
Sounding of the endless treacheries this world must endure,
As I bow down to the world,
I finally understand that I must never be that way,
The way that all humans expect,
Its time to be unique that is the one gracious thing,
That makes us all Human.
smallhands Jul 2014
Luxuries and treacheries
disguise themselves
as the other
It's an egregious cycle
A mundane ellipsis
My head spins
in time with
wherever it originated
I don't know
if it will
have a grave
though I hope
and pray

-cj
F Jaxx Mar 2014
I asked myself today, who am I.
“Who am I?”
“Who am I…”
A question that demands attention and continually forces a new, more thoughtful, more concise, more self-aware answer, over, and over, and over again.
The question we revisit so long as we continue to exist; so long as we continue to progress, and even digress.  
So I ask myself today as I am moving into new and uncharted waters,
“Who am I?”
Despite my best attempts, such a dynamic part of MY answer lies with YOU.
Today, as it stands, I am a woman who does not truly have her father.
I am a woman who faces the treacheries of this world, with very minimal help and love from her father.
A woman who rejoices in the beauty and awesomeness of this universe without being able to fully share that with her father.  
I am navigating this life with out your guidance, nor your wisdom.
But, I am healthy and growing and beautiful and passionate and smart, and most importantly, I am happy.
I am happy, despite you.
And that saddens me.
Today, as it stands, you are alive and well, so this should sadden you too.
Because when you face your question “who am I?”
Your answer should have me in it. Your answer should contain me so completely that you simply cannot separate our two identities.
You should be able to truthfully admit to yourself that a part of who you are,
A part of your answer to one of life’s most important and unavoidable questions is that you are MY father… MY dad.
As long as you are not able to truly admit this to yourself,
It should sadden you too.
Kira Alice LeMay Apr 2017
I sit in longing as I... I beckon thy forth...
~I call to you.~
~Still I call~
Your hidden profound beauty among vast arrays of glistening stars.

~I searched for you~,..
~Go-God how I...~
~I se-search for you.~

In every hidden meaning, interlaced within each of your maticaliss and well methodized scars

These?... mem?ories?...
Your...memories?...
Our?... memories?...
They stream like old nostalgic home movies set to play within  the primal depths of my head
like porcelain tears wept by God all loving gaze,  fragile so delicately fragile  to even the slightest misplaced inapt touch, they cry to me and my insecurities even thought you're already longed been dead I still heard your voice in my head

What was that feeling so estranged
What is this... this feeling my emotions engage ?  

there's this nervous bleeding in my brain meandering threw overwhelmingly disdained remnants
As I strain to explain the remoteness of uncharted  depths in witch thoughts of you I try and abstain
upon deaf indifferent ears my cries are wasted. For none would be found to entertain  A chance to pick and ponder, to get lost in and wounder as I  balefully complain.

"~This sound...?~
Why..?. why so loud this admissible Tri-tone "
There's this uneasy, nerve convulsive,  sound raging threw like a Twister birthed a Typhoon of distemper and dismemberment.
as i find myself forever all alone
striking the very foundation of what little stability from remaining fragments of  a once adored and stable reality.
Sadly now found held together by old worn down duck-tape with reaming remnants of what one can only assume to be glue??
barricades foolishly  fortified by the mind of child still innocent to the ways of humanity barely able to withstand the heart chilling  resonating gasp as your final moments spent fighting to the very last second of you being.

"~Hey... he-hey? wake up sil-silly its not cool to play dead in the hospital you know thats like gotta be bad luck haha. hey did you hear me... oh god... oh god no HELP PLEASE I NEED A DOCTOR  don't stop breathing yet please, no..don't go.  You cant leave me yet Im not ready I cant handle life without you No take me with you you promised me forever and I promised you always your a lire your such a lire how could you why could you  are you just going to giving up on me like everyone else in my life was my love not enough for you to stay?~ "

your final inhale...  no I wont believe this I can accept this reality were is the restart button if life's a game we all play to win at death then there must be a way to restart it right....??? "see this is where you would normally lough.. why aren't you laughing please I need to hear you laugh just one more time just once more
I know this is all just a dream ... I . . I . mean it has to be it has to be a dream just a horrible nightmare "


stale air with a hint of old people/hospital  struggle to fill your crackling perfect lungs.
unraveling before my very eyes strung before me your radiant warmth ( your soul)  I feel  started lifting away until cold chills replace any trace of your warmth left behind Frantically I try to find some way to stay anchored  to consciousnesses as hatred replaces my need to preserve my existence

~"Its slipping... I'm slipping ... no oh god see I told I still need you why didn't you listen"
I cant hold on to the strands of sanity you left behind when you left me behind with humanity and is compelling my mind into darkness as I stupor into my craziness~
my hold on reality is slipping  like your soul from your body I cant take much more rampantly I storm fractiously trying to find some way to release the rage embodying me

your lifeless  porcelain soft blue kissed skin becomes the haunting image that has exuded its dominance within my subconscious In a obnoxious promise to forever remain continuous when I sleep and when I wake

as to forever riddle me sleepless nights and ******* up any reason or purops I once felt before like a sucker fish o like  humanity taking everything they can get their hands on and destroying it

I setting here still I wait for this dream to end and I wake up by your side once again
like a puppy waiting on its master to return home I eagerly stand idle
the years pass by and so sets in the numbing theirs just no time for grieving, grooming my mind to remain in denial until the day you fulfill that promise and walk me across the rose petal isles of our wedding day.

What is this pain I have been feeling? I recall feeling it somewhere? sometime? a while back before we got together and I haven't felt it since our first kiss could this be that pain has come back into my existence

Why is it so hard to find someone who undoubtedly unconditionally  cares
I have gone to please one would not imagain possible in search of someone whos hart is not afraid to dare to dare sadly living with a heart that holds more love for everyone and everything then anyone can even think of imagining is quit so lonely
its been so long and Im fading with my memories


LIKE A BANDIT IN THE NIGHT MY SANITY IS ***** AND STRIPPED FROM ME
...YOU THIEF.... why?
like a bandit in the night you steal with such ease my voice, as you plumage threw misconstrued reculations reculated threw my own self destruction.
this left without a purpose, There's no reason to rejoice
There is no reason to rejoice
I am bound so much higher then the timeline resonating days from before
staring up empty  as the discarded remains of my body from the dingy stiff carpeted floor
  ~breath me in child and breath me out~ transcend the transcendence to harol before thy own spark of life
try to grasp the meaning behind you selfish doubt and misrepresent context strewed all about
These shadows dancing seductively down the halls
their toying, scratching gnawing at my walls
so If I must bend to please your mind then so shall I  break as well
you can find my dissociated shadow as my final breaths staggeringly expel I cant take back the sight of another day
carving up and branding my body with each and every word you convey  hoisted here, I can only hang dangling around
each hooked barb used to keep me feet from the warming confort of the ground
crimson pebbles of blood trickling dripping tracing down my  exposed spine fading is the reality set before me I have crossed the center line  S
     I
                x                                 F
                                             E
                                                     E
                                                               ­   T Down
~"Down..?? wait where was up oh god I-I dont kno-know whats what in a world where up is down and down is up"~

Hell?o... (Hello..hello...hello...hello)
I hear my echo leaping, profoundly dancing along the ecos of your fragmented timeline all  around
this chasms great untouched by the corrupted corruption of man cold damp walls has found to be more the perpetually perfect for resonating sound
  ~wait... where did you sound go... Please..please no... wait... come back~   Bury me deep beneath the waves of solemn solitude as so softly I shall drown
softly I will drown as profound silence shall fall the night is nigh cascading my eternal rampages of over rambunctious demons at feud, ~ I shall go?~,
~I shall go... and never again shall my warm touch be felt my soothing voice resonate within your heart??~

~but how...? how Is this truly what love is ? ~
As my skeletons float freely upward  from the long forgotten deapths of the deepest pits scattered across earths vast mighty ground
In search of new territory to spread their unsound sympathies of discord an unnatural enigma of falsely generated stigmas
No closet on this prepubescent earth shall ever lay vast enough within their voids of blacked silence to begin to lay way a suitable lair able to hide from deep within them all
The continuous continuing cycle of ever-being hordes of lies and deceit so great in their numbers they constructed for themselves a framed body to mate its creator  The never ending countless swarms of past skeletons


SO break
just break UGHHH why wont you break?
me down force a tremble coursing threw my bones like a railway as its final distention approaches my knees giving way to my involuntary crawl.
I shall crawl up to your ****** and suckle on the newborn memories
of the forgotten ways of man from old, so simplistically
as your screams soothes and calms me
I am the product of your noted treacheries
SO EXCUSE IF I SEEM TO BE A BIT UNHINGED
MY ANGUISH BOILS AS MY SKIN FALLS TO THE GROUND DECAYED AND SINGED
YOU TRY TO SELL ME YOUR HALF BAKED FALSE BELIEFS
LIKE A BANDIT IN THE NIGHT MY SANITY IS ***** AND STRIPPED FROM ME YOU THIEF
like a bandit in the night you steal my voice
left without purpose There's no reason to rejoice
There is no reason to rejoice

I needed to get out all the racing thoughts from within my mind all these feelings and meanings as they distort and intertwine this was just a random act of random creations   © 4 months ago, Kira LeMay    story • life • sad • depression • death
Michael Marchese Dec 2016
The first pit is of meaningless
Corridors of faithlessness
Through lonely caverns wandering
A labyrinth of pondering

Then desire gathers squalls
Through restless halls and chamber walls
A tempest surge of carnal lust
Eroding true love's kiss to dust

I hunger for her poison bite
Insatiable my appetite
My penance now an icy rain
Frost-blighting teeth consume my pain

So I seek shelter from the cold
In hollow warmth of things I hold
Possessed by tangibility
Expended in a gilded sea

Poured as rivers fraught with anger
Selfish souls in warring clangor
Smote hath I, the ego lord
Now my wrath confronts the horde

As fires still rage disbelief
For lies that fuel my hellish grief
Let flames of truth incinerate
This cross of nails that seals my fate

An image dripping violent red
From severed head and children dead
So Christ's blood my sword will taste
Just one more body left disgraced

By holy water snake oils
Corrupted wretches reaping spoils
Countless lives they have destroyed
Such excess sin must share the void

But not with I, the pulse of Death
No treacheries could freeze my breath
Past Satan's frozen form descends  
My consciousness to far worse ends

A tenth circle e'er to enclose
My wilting rose in starlit glows
No depths Dante would dare to go
Existence is my inferno
S cape Feb 2017
Some people stay up thinking about the treacheries of life
Their mind becomes a jumble of thoughts banging on their eyelids like the loudest of drums
Their over analyzation denies them any type of rest
They cannot fall asleep
This leads to insomnia, and sleeping pills come to the rescue
--Me I'm the opposite
I can't stay awake
Reality drags me to my bed,
Under the comfort of my sheets
I can dream whatever I PLEASE about this sick world
Trumps not actually president
The world is a platform for love
Hate is wiped clear of the planet  
Racists realize that color does NOT matter
Humans learn to love eachother with their minds clear of bias
I'm good at something??
The boy I like actually likes me back?!
When I'm in bed I don't want to wake up
It's so much easier living in my head
With colors that fly through my mind like a paintbrush
It's my own drug
Every dream I have is a book that I have published for me myself and I only
there's a little world in there far better than the one out here
I'll snooze my alarm for three hours
And imagine the world how I want it
With my eyes closed to view it in the highest of definitions
Julian Mar 2023
3/30/2O23 WRITING
THE WROX OF ATTINGENT ATTRITION WIELDED BY AKINESIA ORBITED AROUND GALERICULATED JARVEYS TO THE PANMIXIA OF BARNSTORM WASES OF BARTONS ENTANGLED IN THE CRUCIBLE OF ERUCIFORM MOTIVES FOR OLIM WALLETEERS AND WALLFISH THAT BREAK THE BRATTICE RANKS OF APARTHEID THAT ABORNING ALPENGLOW SUNSET SAFFRON CAJOLES OF THE WELKIN SCYTHING AGAINST THE PLEROMORPHY OF REDACTED AND REDOUBLED PLEONASM THAT MIGHT BE AN ESCADRILLE ON THE FOREFRONT OF THE CAMARRA OF VENTRILABRAL FEATS OF KNEADED MALAXAGE FOREVER THE SUFFRAGE OF BODACHES ENTANGLED IN SARSENETS OF SERICULTURE. WE WITH RIP VAN WINKLE THORNY IMBROGLIOS OF THE COLLECTIVE AMNESIA CREATED BY SIMULTAGNOSIA WE SPURN THE ANZACTILE FLASHBANGS AGAINST SECTILE DOLDRUMS OF WINTRY SUPPEDANEUM USING THE FAGINS OF SUBACTION THAT THE CLOFFIN OF GEZELLIG TRAMONTANE TO ALL SPECTERS NEVER A BUGABOO OF BODEWASH RINSED IN NIHILISM COULD EVER SURMOUNT WITH THE CARYATIDS OF CHOMAGE AND METEORIC CHOANIDS WE STAND A FIGHTING CHANCE TO REVIVAL AND WITH THE WAPENTAKE OF CONFEDERATE OMPHALISMS WE MIGHT SEE A CLEAVED WORLD DISMAL ON SATURNINE SYCOMANCY BECAUSE THE NEMESISM OF ROILING ROARING ROORBACKS OF CAREFULLY PLUCKY VENOSTASIS MIGHT THE BARRULETS OF HABITUES OF LIONIZATION BE GREATLY ENRICHED BY THE ENLISTMENT OF NOVERNARY MACROPICIDES BECAUSE OF FALTERING STEVEDORES THAT EVENTUALLY THE CURGLAFF BECOMES AN APOTHECARY SENTIMENT OF DELIBERATE POISON TO THE WELLSPRING OF WINTERBOURNE ARCEATED ARMISTICE WITH THICK AND DENSE CURDLED BONNYCLABBER THAT CLOYS THE MUTILATED ETHOS OF THE VANGUARD CORTEGES AND THE CORBELS OF THE SYBOTIC FENNEC AND FIDDLE. WE BLACKGUARD AGAINST RHADAMANTHINE AGENTS DEPLOYED BY SENTINEL TRIBUNES TRYING TO GLITCH THE FUSION OF PARVANIMITY WITH THE CAPABLE BANDELETS OF SPECIOUS SOPHISTRY THAT SCRAWLS INTEMERATION IN EVERY SUBDICOLOUS SWARF OF GRAVID IRONY PREGNANT ONLY BECAUSE OF MIDWIVES TO CIRCUMLOCUTION THAT MOTIVATES THE THRESHING FLOOR TO SEIZE THE FIG TREE AND GALVANIZE THE MUSTARD SEED ECONOMY OF ERUCIFORM DELIGHTS KNOWN FAR BEFOREHAND BY COGNOSCENTI FRAVVERSCRIBBLE BECAUSE OF THE OBLATED NUTATION THAT GOUGES TOO MANY BECAUSE OF THE ZOOSEMIOTICS OF NEKTON TRUCIDATION THAT THE HARVEST OF NYALAS IS NOT IN VAIN FOR ALL OF THE CODSWALLOP THEY DERIDED IN THEIR PERENNIAL FICTIONS AND THEIR BONTBOK PROSELYTIZATION OF MANY SUSCEPTIBLE SURQUEDRIES OF SURDOMUTE MYTHOS SPANKING THE MONKEY UNREEVED BECAUSE OF TURNSTILE PHARMACEUTICAL ROT THAT DISTILLED IN ITS ESSENTIAL CONTORTIONS THE CORDWAINER APPEAL OF CURATIVE NOSOCOMIAL RANCOR TRUCKLING TO HIDDEN EPITHETS BURIED IN ACCOLENT TEMPTATIONS RATHER THAN SUPERSTITIOUS IDEOGENIES THAT BECAME THE BELLWETHERS OF INOCULATION IN AN ERA BESET WITH PLAGUES AND THE BLAINS OF BLUNGED ORTHOPTEROLOGY ZESTY WITH THE ZEAL OF THOUSANDS OF ANGRY ANGARIES FOR THE UMSTROKE OF LABILE LEVERAGE FINESSING THE BARCAROLE SUCH THAT THE INSIGHT OF THE WIVERN OF ANTICTHON MIGHT EVENTUALLY BECOME A DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER PARABLE OF THE RETCHED MISCEGENATION OF OUTCAST MANUFACTURE STRICKLING A FENESTRAL DISGRACE FOR THE JANGADAS OF THE CAMPANILE SEED ****** BY CALUMETS OF THE VEES OF MOULIN ROUGE SCANSORIAL CONDUCT OF THE DEMARCATED DERMATOLOGY OF PATINAS ABOVE THE CIRCULAR REPOSE OF VISIBILIA BECAUSE THE GIAOURS OF SPHACELATION OF GRAMERCY BROWBEATING FOR SPECIOUS RANTIPOLE RANGIFERINE SERROWS OF ESTABLISHED ELITISM ABOVE FUNNELED BURROLES OF BRAINTRUST SUBORNING ALL ALLEGIANCE TO THE GREATEST PINNACLE OF SUBSIDIARY CIVILIZATION THAT IS NEVER INDOLENT AND ALWAYS A REPROACH TO THE WISEST PEOPLE OF WISEACRES WIDELY ENTERTAINED BEYOND VAPULATION IN CATERCORNERED ELITISM. NYALAS ENGINEERED THE BIGGEST SCAM IN THE HISTORY OF NYALA AND THE STULMS OF CORPORATE SABOTAGE DESIGNED BY THE MAJORITARIAN TREACLE OF URBANE BERLINE DERELICTIONS OF PROXEMICS THAT WE MIGHT SEE THE BOLAR STOLONICITY OF CASEMATE BRITSKAS RENDERING THEM EFFETE IN DISEASED MENTICIDE ABOVE CARPAL TUNNEL FORESIGHT OF TWADDLING SCRIPTURE THAT BELONGS TO ROCKSTAR PARLANCE BUOYED BY BRIMBORION BLACKLISTS OF SAMIZDAT BECOMING MORE IMPORTANT TO THE ACT OF BALEFIRE THAN THE PORTREEVES HANDING THE CLAVATE OF GHAWAZI THE CLAVIGEROUS MIGHT OF HANDSPIKE FOR JALEOS AND JARABES OF GREATER TRICOTEES THAN TREACHERIES BECAUSE THE VINTAGE WINDCHEATERS THAT SOARED WITH CORSAIRS MIGHT THEY BE SO PRIVILEGED WITH PREROGATIVES OF SUBLIME EXCHEQUER THAT HOPEFULLY THEY STORGED THEMSELVES ON HEALTHIER DIETS RATHER THAN THE NESH DEBAUCHERIES OF MISERICORDS BECOMING BETHELS OF THE COMPANIONWAY OF LECHERY THAT SCOWLS AT OWLERIES BUT INSTEAD WANTS THE NECROTYPE FOR ROOSTERS BECAUSE OF HEYDAY HATRED RATHER THAN SOCKDOLAGER PROSELYTIZATION TO THE LARGESSE OF PYCNOSTYLE PERSEVERATION. INSTEAD OF ERECTING  STANDPIPES TO THE ILLITERACY OF SEDIGITATED DELUSIONS FED INTO CAMISOLES OF BROCKFACED BRAZEN STRETCHERS FOR THE WALDGRAVES OF WARDCORN EXPERIMENTATION WE FIND THAT THE WINZE THAT LEADS TO THE SYRINX OF ELITISM NOT GUARDED BY ABESSIVE PRIVILEGE WE ENTERTAIN THE STALINESQUE SYSTEM OF PSYCHIATRY TEETOTALING AROUND THE CEREAL KILLER MENTALITY BECAUSE OF A SWARTHY BIAS OF PREGNANT NIGHT AND KNIGHTS TO RULE OVER HEADLESS HORSEMEN TAXIDERMIES BURIED IN THE CLOTURE OF CETACEAN MYTHOS GIRDLING THE CARDIMELECH OF BASELINE PRIDE RATHER THAN CARDIOGNOST UNDERSTANDING THAT NEPHROLITHS OF  STOCKINETTE ARE IN FACT THE BOLSTERED ECONOMETRICS OF SCALING THE TOTEMIC LEVERAGE OF SUBSTRATOSE SOCIETIES IN VARIOUS DIVERGENCES OF IDIOSYNCRATIC ARRAIGNMENT THAT RESULTED IN SUCH A PROFOUND NEUTROSOPHY THAT EXERTS A TUG UPON THE STOKEHOLD SPODOMAN CY AND SPODIUM OF SPECIAL INTERESTS THAT ATTEMPTED TO MAGNETIZE THE MESMERISM OF DEFEATED IDEAS AND IDEOLOGIES MIGHT THEY SURVIVE WITH CATHEXIS FOR THE WASES OF BARNSTORM OF RHEOTAXIS IN WAPENTAKE. THE WORLD NEEDS TO KNOW HOW SEVERELY THE IVORIDE OF THE IVY LEAGUES AND THE CONSTELLATION OF PEOPLE WITH PERVERSE COMPASSIONS DISCARDING THE EMOTIVISM OF BLUEPETERS TRYING TO EDGE BEYOND THE BOUNDARIES OF IMAGINATION TO FORSIFAMILIATE BECAUSE OF ECCENTRIC PECCADILLO THAT LURCHES AGAINST TIMBERLASK VIRILITY TO ENTRENCH A QUIXOTIC AND QUISQUILOUS MULIEBRITY TO ROUSE THE SEMAPHORE ALARM THAT NO LONGER CAN THE BANDEROLS OF THE SIMPLEST MEN BECOME THE SIRENS FOR EVERY PROTEST RATHER MIGHT THEIR TURGID DISREGARD RENDEM THEM IRRELEVANT BECAUSE ONOLATRIES AND SCRIVELLOS BOTH PANDER TO WICKED WICKS OF THE TABLE OF ALL AFFAIRS THAT EXLEX REALISM IN A PRAGMATIC WORLD OF STUNSAIL SUPERNOVAS DEFEAT THE NOMOGENY OF THE RADICALISM BECOMING MORE RADICAL BY INCULCATION THAT CONSTERNATION IS THE CRUCIBLE OF ARISTOPHREN DISTASTE BUT THE EXCHEQUER OF ELECTORAL CERTAINTY OF PERIBLEBSIS ABOVE CLEARHEADED SIGHT RATHER THAN MYOPIA IN FAMISHED LANDS FATTENING CALVES IN THE PROVIDENCE OF PROWESS THAT MIGHT RESCUE US BEYOND PETTY DELUSIONS THAT WE MUST ENCOUNTER TRIBULOID CNICNODES WITH THE BEST ABDERVINE AFFAIRS RATHER THAN A NOMENCLATURE ELITISM THAT IS SAVVY ONLY WHEN THE ABAFT TURTLEBACK ONLOOKERS OF THE NOYADE APPROACHING FROM MILLIONS OF MILES APART THAT THEY BECOME DISENTHUSED BY THE COMPOSITE SPECTRUM MIGHT THEY TURN INTO DEMOCRATIC SOLFERINOS OR OTHERWISE SOLFERINOS TO BEGIN WITH, THE LACERTILIAN CROTALINE SONDAGE OF DARKNESS IS A KNELL FOR THE DARK RASPY DAYS OF WHERRET AND STULTIFICATION OF GARBOLOGY EVEN WHEN IT REMAINS THE LINCHPIN OF ALL TROPES OF TRUTH FOR TROMOMETERS AND STADIOMETERS THAT UNDERSTAND WANIGANS OF WAINAGE. IN CONCLUSIVE HARBINGER UMBRACIOUS SERVITUDE TO A SUFFRAGE OF SPHECOID LITTORAL EMBANKMENTS THAT RIVULATIONS GUARD ABOVE THE GROUNDPROX MUGIENCE OF BRAYING JACKALS HAUNTING THE JIBOYA FORESTS OF AFFORCED AND ATTEMPERED ATTENUATION THAT RANKLES THE GRAVAMEN OF RANCID HINDSIGHT IN CHRONOPSYCHOLOGY THAT SPRAWLS OUTWARD FROM THE PROVENANCE OF ALL ILLUMINATION THAT THE SORBILE SOURDINE SGRAFFITOS TO THE ELECTORAL REGARD BECOMES A SWANK BEYOND SILKALINE BANGTAIL OSTENTATION THAT NEGAHOLICS AGAINST CRETACEOUS SUFFICIENCY OF THE PALLOR OF ARENTRUM ABOVE BLANKETED WALLFISH WHO SPY ON PISCIFAUNA MIGHT THEIR SENICIDE BECOME THE CAREWORN OPPOSITE TO ALL CAREER TEMPTATIONS FOR GIGMANIA IN A SLOW CARAPACE OF FORAMINATION ABOVE THE RESOFINCULAR DISTORTIONS OF BOLTROPES INGRATIATING THE INSTRUMENTALISM OF DECLINE. WE MUST HEED GOD AND OBEY HIS PROVIDENCE SUCH THAT THE CHEVET OF THE RELIGIOUS ACCLAIM OF GENERATIONS EXPANDS TO BE A DISCIPLESHIP TO ALL WORLD LEADERS IN THE SEDERUNT OF PATIENCE RATHER THAN IMPETUOUS FUROR AGAINST RIDDLED PRAXEOLOGY. IN THE CULMINATION OF ALL AGES WE MUST ENDURE THE SUFFRAGE OF COGNOSCENTI PIRATES MIGHT THEY EMBARK IN OPPOSITIVE SUPPORT FOR THE GRATUITIES THEY SEE THROUGH THE PORTALS OF ABATJOUR THAT SPAWNED MYTH AND MYTH CONQUERED THE TREACLE OF DECEIT BECAUSE OLMS OF THE PAST AND ZEKS OF THE PRESENT DESERVE A BETTER REGARD OF THE CREDENDA. NEUTROSOPHY IS THE BALKANIZATION OF QUIZZICAL IDEAS DERIVED FROM FAULTY COMPASSIONS TO MINORITARIAN BACKPIECES OR ROTUND PROPAGANDA COALESCING PEOPLE BY GIROUETTISM THAT THEY MIGHT BE ENTHUSED BY A WEIRD CISVESTISM AS A BADGE OF HONOR BECAUSE OF LIBIDINAL IMBALANCE AND MANY FORMS OF RADICALISM POLLUTE SOCIETY PRIMARILY BECAUSE ECCENTRIC BOOKWORM PROFESSORS HARDLY THE VICTIMS OF POLYHISTORY OFTEN TRADUCED THE CONTEMPORARY MALAISE AND INVENTED FROM A VACUUM A DERIVATIVE OF WARPED EUHEMERISM THAT MISLEADS MANY ONTO DESOLATE PATHS OF ISOLATION IMMUNE TO THE CONSENSUS OF GENIUS WHICH FLOUTS THOSE SPECIOUS SOPHISTRIES BECAUSE THEY ARE RACKRENTS OF ACADEMIC BANKRUPTCY THAT NEED TO BE ANNEALED OF A REVIVAL OF PEAK MODERNISM IDEOLOGIES BEYOND THE IDIORHYTHMIC PROGRESSION OF TRUCKLING COMPROMISE AND CLOYING TOLERANCE.
Lainey May 2017
I used to be a lighthouse, standing sturdily
Shining my light that others might see
Guardian of your safe passage through life’s treacheries
Until the day my light began to fail me.
I struggled on illuminating hoping to shine through
But ominous clouds amassed and grew
Leaving me with the dimmest view
How can I get through to you?
There you stand in the midst of the storm
Innocent substance this tempest has torn
I try to reach you, to cry out, to warn
I am broken, despairing, forlorn.
Time now to take down my beacon, you see
Not part of my nature, but setting me free
The new role that I’ve chosen for me?
To shine within and hope others will see.
I wrote this poem after I was betrayed by someone for whom I played Protector. It was a wakeup call.  So naturally I wrote a poem about it !
Tawanda Mulalu Jul 2018
Creamy: beautifully carved hillocks
of mush-- I crack open skulls on the daily yo
in the lab, I scan
     them and need them
to stay very still while the machines blip and bop--
     sculpted
by algorithms
that recombine the pulses of your sentences
     into maps
of meaning: spiked with and voltaged at its peaked lines
and smoothed by noise towards its graphy flattenings.
                                                                             Can you imagine
the treacheries of travelling one can find
                                                                              within oneself
the kinds of climb in mind inside
                                                                               you?

Well, to be honest: no; hence, statistics
ivory Oct 2017
you might listen if i could write melodies and not treacheries
of spirit, violations of the psyche
stabs that pinch just right (just wrong)

you might just listen
if i was a songstress seductress
a siren in your bed in your head
(i could make you listen)
David Bojay Aug 2019
the distance we've made
when the cards were played

with nothing to be said
and time to be paid
I can only love an option of higher grade for  the sake of me
for the sake of my ***** ******* mind
who knows of it's treacheries

how many people still waiting for me to decide whether or not I really love her or not

it only amounts to nothing
delicate to the stumbles we take
down the sewer with the rest when I fail a couple "are we still "there"? tests


in my arms
out my arms


the only person you can truly be isn't what you see in me

but what you see in everyone



I just think ******* be *****

really *****

I just be sidetracked from a temporary truth
Alex Aug 2021
With a heavy heart do I stumble…
With wounds deeper than the treachery that caused them…
Oh and to what extant do these treacheries reach…
To what ends does the poison flow
With icy cold fingers that holds the blade that strikes…
With callous...such callous is the impertinence of thy
For who is to blame? Nor you…nor I…
But trust…
Oh and such a word...for only man would have to create such a word to than create another to destroy...
Who’s like an infant...its only guilt... innocence
And yet as life fades... as does the burden I carry
Take this crown for it holds no value... and wear it well…
For tomorrow brings a new day…
And may you see this I hope… the sun rise and set
For I no longer have that luxury…
Lorraine Colon Dec 2022
Long ago  my pride was abandoned
And Love's beggary became my art,
Just a drop of Love - a brief romance --
Has amply sustained this starving heart

Amorous overtures still put a blush
Upon the face of this wilting rose --
Praise my beauty . . . write me a love poem . . .
Spring will be mine though winter's wind blows

With what eagerness I would devour
The love poems you might hastily scrawl!
My starving heart would forego the feast,
Finding comfort in the crumbs that fall

Though meager the trickle from Love's spring,
The parched heart gives thanks with solemn prayer;
And even pity, wearing Love's mask,
Would banish the demons of despair

What darkness enshrouds the lonely heart
Until Love illumes it with its flame,
Even the embers of a flawed love
Will lend their pale glow to this sad game

Though Fate often stoops to treacheries,
Pity me not for what might have been;
I find solace in Love's fantasies . . .
Tangled in the lovely webs they spin
Rae Lynn Sopper Oct 2018
I am from dark hallways filled with shadows of yesterday's memories,

From hallowed corners where the broken once stood.

I am from holes in the walls from last night's treacheries,

From the rain of a daughter's thoughts about leaving, wishing she could.

I am from sleepless nights spent pondering many things,

From being swallowed by consciousness.

I am from loud silences that simple uncaring beings,

From sweet-nothings presented by a yellow sun's boldness.

I am from realization and regret,

From bad memories you won't forget.

I am from apologies and changes,

From hugs, kisses and make ups.

I am from new loving exchanges,

From helping hands and caring buildups.

I am from fresh starts and whole hearts,

From family and being happy.

I was from dark hallways filled with shadows of yesterday's memories,

I am from dark to light.
Nolwazi Mabuza Apr 2020
Treacheries were never the story,
Isn't it that it was falsified?
Lemme tell you something sweet...
Like a bird singing in May ,
The belle out shines all bright stars on the great blue mat.
Isn't it that the melody of the rhythm
Are too sad...
Like a citizen you tried finding the amusing amazing part of the music but all it leads to is the dance to the beats of melancholy.
The poem talks of a sad soul who finds it hard to have happiness in his or her life ...
Uma natarajan May 2018
The terrain
During visual rain
Revealing obstinacy of rocks
Steep climbs to mock
Treacheries of limping halt
Climbing hunchback jolt
Difficult deadly stretch
Bothering strenuous much
Perilous attempts to cross
Brooding and moving pause
Dangerous cross
Lowly particles and sand
Small Peaks and strand
Still compelled movements band
Felt better to stay on plains
With plenty of rains
badwords Jan 2023
As a kid I was aquited
For murders I did committed
A juvenile, I sitted
Upon my throne

Loud noises, vanquished activities
Delinquent proclivities
Familiar treacheries
I was on my own

13, young, dumb and full of ***
I was king of it all
The ******* claimed I was 'the one'
How quickly I fall

Frank said to me
"This land is yours as far  as the eye can see"
Dean knew the treachery
Joey smiled, happily

"It's a desert out here"
I decried with care
Not to invite a homicidal affair
A company of ne'er-do-wells

Frank turned and said,
"If you a'int living', you're dead"
Ominous dread
The words stuck in my head

It's been awhile now
Since I've seen the pack
It's amazing how
It all comes back

Life's been good
Even grand
Since that hood
Took the grandstand

Ambitious screams
The paupers line my purse
Pathetic dreams
To escape what's worse

Another dollar, another nickel
Lady Luck is fickle
Pull the arm of our 'friend'
A chance at a happy end
In solitude, I ponder how to guard thy grace,
While facing the treacheries time may embrace.
Time, once aflame, now wanes to ember's glare,
Yet your love, an elusive dream, lingers fair.

How shall I shield thee if days betray our trust?
If destiny decrees, and love turns to dust?
Depart from me, let me face fate's decree,
But take my heart, so pain won't shadow me.

Life's burdens ease when happiness prevails,
And worldly woes recede when hope exhales.
Walk not with me toward shadows profound,
Nor towards a future where anguish is crowned.

A myriad worries and ghosts doth pursue,
As my wounds wail in sorrow's rue.
Before my eyes, my dreams decay and rust,
With naught to call for hope or trust.

Your love, still my last ambition, my final plea,
Yet worries assail, pursuing me like a plea.
All that remains of my dreams is but dust,
Pain, the remnant of joy, turning to rust.

Above, a darkened veil shrouds the sky's light,
Below, thorns and flames test my resolve's height.
In this age, there exists naught but thee,
Have mercy on this heart that bled for thee.

Your love rekindled my heart anew,
After years of sorrow, of pain, I once knew.
What did my heart do to deserve such despair?
Once, you were my earth, my sky, my air.

Why make my world a realm of gloom and night?
Why insist on parting, on fleeing from sight?
What turned your heart to such cold disdain?
Has love vanished? Is only sorrow to remain?

Did your heart, once tender, turn to wield a blade?
Casting me into darkness where morning's light fades.
Who erred in wronging the other, who's to blame?
Who transformed from lover to a selfish name?

You shattered my heart, reduced it to shards,
Taking earth from beneath me, skies from above.
Is this the way of the world, the way of time?
After love, must parting and forgetting climb?

Does my heart deserve such anguish from thee?
After affection, passion, and shared agony.
I endured much for thee, yet more I'll bear,
The world grows harsher, but without you, I fear.

You were my dearest, my most beloved friend,
I fear for you, your soul, and how you'll tend.
Must I be harsh for you to comprehend?
Will you endure my torment, as here I bend?

How did you hide this heart, this stone so cold?
Once, you hid it behind that face, so bold.
Is it time for masks to fall away?
Is it time for you to slice my heart, betray?

I never wished to linger for a day like this,
To hear thunder from your lips, amiss.
Did you wait to witness my longing's demise?
To see my heart amidst burning skies?

Why this betrayal, this vengeful art?
Why this deceit, why this pain at heart?
A day will come when your eyes will weep,
When my faded feelings you'll finally reap.

That day draws near, so await its song,
Not for vengeance, but for my departure long.
The harshest punishment is to leave you alone,
To face life's waves, adrift and unknown.

To realize the value lost, my heart's demise,
To regret the innocent heart you've sacrificed.
Stay away, stay far from me,
Love's feelings departed, for you to see.

Whatever happens, I'll never forgive,
For a heart so cruel, so eager to grieve.
You chose once, chose your own path to tread,
Your joy, your happiness, while my heart bled.

No longer do I have a heart to love you again,
No longer beats it for a departed friend.
Within my ribs, it remains, yet still,
But your love, inside, fades, fades until.

I no longer recall your treacherous gaze,
My heart finds solace, while my eyes blaze.
Seek solace for yourself, akin to thee,
For you have become one of enmity.

Leave me be, for I no longer see thee,
And the heart that once longed now begins to flee.
Love lingers within me, within my chest,
But it's meant for another, this is your quest.
Yenson Dec 2021
Its all out and documented
opened out in chapters and verses
had brains been sane
and proper schooling attained
with no jealousies clogging veins
perhaps if they can read
and comprehend
they will know the tricks and treacheries
of the damaged Bolsheviks
sweeping from their septic wounds
and burning sores
have all been indexed and contexted
and all as always with  simple minds
always ritually betrayed by the arrogance of ignorance
the habitat portals of the  disingenuous
practise of fools
who do not have brains enough to be honest
western corruption in western banana republicans
what a funny haha joke
when the tar-getters are also the targets
hahaha hahaha hahaha
Lawrence Hall Nov 2022
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love
Fellowship & Fairydust (fellowshipandfairydust.com)
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                    T­he Eyes of a Stalker

Dear Publisher:

Yes, I thank God you are free to publish your books
And I thank that wise First Amendment thing
Even though crafted by agnostics and rebels
Who ought to have been faithful to their King

You are free to call that parasite a prince
You are free to profit from his treacheries
But selling your honor for shillings and pence
Reveals your failure as cultural trustees

But know you something of that sullen talker?
On the cover you have given him the eyes of a stalker

— The End —