Selfies,
I can smell the desperation,
from here.
odors  of worry;
rippling anxities of uncertainity.
two dimensional,
instantaneous impressions,
pixelated presentations,
and
Teenage frustrations.

up tilted camera.
held against the light,
Illuminating eyes ,
and eradicating spots.
that looks like a good one.
Vicarious representation;
of how good
one could look,
fallible and hopeful.

big bosomed dame
showcasing blessed cleavage,
pulsating the adolescent
bulges.
delivered to
metal passenger,
thereafter shown
among peers.
networked to unknown.
Friends who'd never
met eye,
or
touched skin,
or
even spoke.  

self conscious
cropping of images.
fat and fearful.
wasted hours,
dying for love.
False dream of
captivating the messes with her selfie.

The very ugliness
of impressions.
Oh, how shallow we've became.
The denial
of the impact of aesthetics.
laughable,
torrents of judgement
Skinny,
fat,
ugly,
behold their desperate eyes behind the selfie.

There are times, when the only thing you can do, is work, work hard , and keep working harder till you achieve the goal you've had, buy what if the no. Of attempts you get, isn't enough as the degree of hope you possess?
The incessant work, the toil, that dedication, all kinda wells up our eyes,  but the pain inside is too deep for those tears even to ease!

Theres a thing, called 'misfortune' that comes into light, then.When a person is unfortunate, at a phase of time, no matter what he or she does, with whatever degree of dedication, the fate rejects all the honesty, and what we exactly get is what we never wished and deserved then.But as the saying goes, 'time rules everything'.'Nobody ever reaped the good harvest before time didn't nod, and I feel nobody ever will.

'Uncertainity' rules life! We can work dedicatedly, be honest with everything and be sincere, yet the chapter called 'Uncertainity' governs life, the people, us, and everything associated with everyone. What we actually wish and expect, isn't what we get, when we actually want, and what we getvis often given at a time, when we are least in need of it.Sadly, that's life.A life, which is indeed so wierdly uncertain!

maybe we were never meant to be.

maybe you did once love me.

it's that 50% chance

of uncertainity

that fail my relationships

Miserably.

Am I dreaming things that no one ever thinks?
Am I being illogical or has the world gone irrational?
Am I seeking for answers for which the question is uncertain?
Am I writing in midair or is the world listening?
Am I wasting my time waiting for the right time?

i deal within the realm of the currency of words -
words are my currency; sure, you can throw coinage
into the affair, or what i'd prefer to be called:
the gambler's cauldron, the days when history
is not built through will and outside the casino...
these days are built through
chance (luck) and outside the church...
    wasn't ever attending
the church the biggest gamble?
was theology,
ever not inclusive of the notion
of gambling?
   atheists don't gamble,
they have no notion of chance...
they lack the adrenaline junk
bound to adrenaline...
    immobile senile *******
and they know it!
   atheism will not attract
as much emotional concerns
to upset the stance of apathy,
only because atheism has
no degenerate attitude of
capitalism, which is gambling...
come on! people love to gamble!
the more wealth they amount
and can no longer see any use
for it... they won't invest it in others:
they'll waste it! they'll gamble it
away!
   atheism feeds no idea supportive
of gambling...
    even in the dialectical medium:
one side says:
    i know that i don't know,
   but how can you be certain
  that you know?
likewise: i know that i know,
but how can you be certain
          that i don't know?
   theology has so much of gambling
inviting its scarred hearts
and inhibited ambitious ones...
     people talk of western civilisation,
but what talk is there is
western communism,
          serious communism?
people only understand the capital,
and the gamble with it...
          better to gamble,
than to become philanthropic...
             i've never seen days where
money is so squandered...
but you might as well
   throw pebbles into the whole
dynamic,
  wishing for a philosopher's
   stone to come from the other side...
pascal's wager is alive and well...
    atheism can't fathom a worthy reply...
what can atheism provide for
the gambler?
      what's to gamble for?
   what gamble does atheism provide?
pascal? he was smart enough to explain
the human dynamic of a thrill...
   people are adrenaline junkies...
they do un-imaginable feats of danger,
can't theology equal that,
  on a microscopic level or slight deviations
of felt emotions?
     people gambled, gamble,
and will continue to gamble,
  simply because the idea of money is
so limited that it had to fill the vacuum of its
existence with both gambling, & communism...
how can atheism usurb pascal's wager
when atheists can't stop people gambling?
what is the atheistic wager?
      is there a worthy gamble?
     this is why people become so heated
in the theological dynamo...
             they become a tsunami,
a tornado, a hurricane...
             simply because atheism has no
gambling dynamic invoked...
    there's no god, death is certain,
what is there to gamble with?
another hour of a boring stalemate sunday
before the next working week begins?
that's not even a gamble!
           people need to gamble!
  please... please...
you have nothing for the theological gamble...
atheists have no sweet scented nectar
of an argument...
   no dubious fickle state of emotional
turmoil...
                    atheism is just another
boring framework of "revised" boredom...
        say to to people who gamble,
no one in this world wants to live a certain
life,
       and die with a certain truth...
                there's always the quest for
potential, for uncertainity, for adventure...
     atheism is probably the worst assertion of science...
man is born into the certainity of existence,
but lives, and wishes to die
            into / with the uncertainty of essence...
i.e. was war ever essential?
     was love ever the sole purpose of explanation
and worth the crown of above all explanations?
       man is in this affair a quasi-specimen
of the civilised typos...
      strange affair:
             he is alone, the natural world's typo,
rather than the kin of monk chimp & anzzy...
  i find it as follows:
  it will be hard to relieve theology of
the gambler...
                        and therefore gambling itself,
as a worthwhile invitation for
universal socialist philandering with
                   philanthropy...
as i find it as follows:
    atheism is no place for gambling,
   even it be as eloquent as the gambling
of pascal...
                      i suppose atheism does
hold the joker hand of gambling:
   an actual end of gambling,
   and a return to communism,
  whereby gambling is replaced by utopian
philanthropy...
                   here's your god.

one. you can't. everytime their name is mentioned, your heart can't help but beat a little too fast, your stomach can't help but sink a little too deep, and your mind reminds you of every time the words i'll never leave left their mouth, without hesitation. without uncertainity. without doubt. how could you feed my hollow self with your assurance when you were never sure yourself?
two. this is how it starts and this is how it will never end. with questions that'll always be left unanswered. with one piece of the puzzle always missing. with all the what if's and could have's, and why, and how can they?
three. the first thing you should realise is that they are capable of everything. stop the how can they, and the how come. if there's one thing i've learned is people can. they can hurt your fragile little self and shatter every bit of self worth they might've helped you build up, themselves. stop the questioning. you might not want to hear the answers as much as you think you do. they won't tell you what you want to hear. we, people, are self contradictory. we claim to want the truth, but that's not what we want. we create versions of truths in our ever lasting thoughts and make believe. we make believe to survive.
four.  survive. breathe, breathe, breathe. take a look around you, take a look at the people you are surrounded with. we live in an astonishingly beautiful environment. try to look at the world as whole, and look at how insignificant that person that you're "in love" with is. look at how insignificant you are. take it in, take it in. you'll be able to get through this. your heart will mend, nature will take care of that.
five. you should stop blaming them. you should stop blaming yourself. and you should stop blaming the world. another thing i've learned is that, you will not always end up with the person you're in love with. and just because someone's in love with you, does not mean that they won't hurt you. and just because they've hurt you does not mean that they don't care for you. that's life. it's bias. it does not make sense but there's no use to try and make sense of it. you'll end up empty.
six. hatred is not forgetting. indifference is not forgetting. missing is not forgetting. longing is not forgetting. there's no forgetting. don't beat yourself up for still caring. it's humane. time. it'll take time. that person will fade away to the ((danger, danger. do not touch)) pile in your brain to rarely be thought of. yes, there will come a time in which you'll not think of them. take my lead, will you?
seven. this will be a long road. but you need to know that hurt does not last. hurt is not eternal. not one feeling is eternal, you'll get through this. some time soon, you'll meet this someone that'll make you feel things you've never thought you're capable of feeling. they were good to you, but you'll find someone who's good to you and appreciates you just as much. someone who will show you what to love about yourself, which is you whole. because ******* it, you're holy. you're lovely. you're wonderful. someone that'll make misery a foreign word to you. you'll find that someone soon, princess. i promise you.

the world is shattering,
with a raven hovering.
the wild creation with big strong wings,
coming closure, spreading darkness, hiding everything.
visibility has gone even with dilated pupil.
humans trying to remember ethics and scruples.
this will end soon, we chanting every prayer,
the old and infant both survive and again we get fresh air.

The moonlight  fills  its scope,
grounded as we are,
we could  never  intentionally die
although  hives abide by us
their sting is not inevitable,
Are they the ghosts of honeycombe?
only having been
offered a brief nectar sauce
These fears are all inflammable,
yet speak of  the wisdom untouched
by  jealousy.

i guess
this might be another poem
about how the mind works...

my mind
is a constant explosion
of fears and doubt

it ticks like a
constant bomb
never knowing
when it will explode

i fear that i
will awake
not knowing who
i am

i doubt
that anyone
would ever
light a fire
to my dying heart

i await
the day
my other half
will take my place

i fear the existence
of not existing
and the death
of a lost poet

where is love?
where is peace?
where am i?

i'm probably dying.
uncertainity exploding at the seams.

(b.d.s.)

Unfathomable to many
desires loneliness
and
solitude,
Explores realms of beauty,
Freedom
and
dreams,
She speaks of Desolation
Seeking journey of life
and
peace,
Mind jammed with uncertainity,
Ostracized by society,
All she seeks Desolation.

To the point where it starts or is it to the point where it ends
A sinful but childish memory  that knows its way to the back terminus
The coda of a moment with the certainity of a melliflous flow
What makes it deep and so ween is the never ending uncertainity
Uncertainity , whether its to the point where it starts , where it ends or is it just simply to the....!!!

Oh unceratin chats are the worst
          For I have  to break free choices that come my way
  Are never clear as to what I really want
       How does my future look ?
  When decisions can't be made right away
       It's  either you or them do I chose to rather be with you ?
Or do I keep holding on to what needs to be let go ?
      What's the difference of being with you rather than spending time for you ?
   It's not the same I want magic to spark like a firework
       Dream of a night , where I do anything with you by my side never ending like a tunnel
       Enjoying it as much as me , new memories replacing the boring not so exciting

My name is Gabrielle Rose Pimentel
But everyone calls me Gwen
My mom wanted to name me Gaby
But my dad insisted that my nickname should come from their names
So I got the G from grace and the WEN from Wendell and formed Gwen

I have 4 moles on my face and a ton more on my body
One eye is smaller than the other
I have dimples on my fingers
I like to connect my moles
My hands have caught so much pain, they are blistered
My shoulders swelling from the weight of the world
My feet red from running around in circles trying to figure out what I did wrong
And yes, I have a double chin

I can get pretty random
From the pyramids of giza to why does soap bubble?
I’ve loved and it is the most amazing thing I have ever experienced
It takes you on this rocket ship into the void
And it makes you feel like all the shooting stars are falling for you
But with love comes hurt
I’ve been hurt and I’ve learned
That the more i try to stop the bleeding, the more it goes
So I let it bleed, and I allow myself to feel the pain
I feel things very deeply and
every feeling is either a bandage to a wound or a punch in the stomach
I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse
I’ve been careless, I am learning
I walk on the glass shards of life barefoot, hoping that the wounds teach me a lesson
As if the blood on my feet carry the answers to my biggest questions

I am just 15 years old
My eyes wide as the universe, ever expanding, ready to see all there is to see
My brain, eager like a little child at the ice cream store, wanting to taste every flavor there is
I am at the peak of my own age of exploration
Waiting for my marco polo moment, when suddenly everything will be clear
Do questions have legs? Because a ton of them run through my mind
Do aliens exist? Is God real? Are there really mermaids? Can dogs feel? Do plants talk? How big is the universe? Is everything real or merely a dream? Why is there poverty? Is there a cure for cancer? Why do bad things happen to good people? Is there any hope left in this world? Will my questions ever be answered?

If life was a new movie everyday,
I would be at the front row
I wanted to see everything that was about to happen
I would stare at it all day in fear that if I looked  away I would’ve missed my prince charming
I will obsess over every detail, trying to figure out what it means
And this is probably why its good that life doesn’t have a movie
It’s the uncertainity of it all that makes life so special
It gives you the choice whether you want to embrace it
Or let it hold you captive and paranoid of whats about to happen
In my case, I learned that I should just let life go and take its natural course of action
Never mess with the universe because the universe is beyond our imagination
We think we’re so important
Like the world revolves around us
but really we aren’t even as small as a speck compared to everything

I'm Gwen and I'm just 15
But this is me, this is who I am
And I'm so done changing myself just for others

Everything's gonna break too soon
That includes your heart.
Everything's gonna diminish
That includes your smile.
You may be on cloud nine
But certainly you're going to fall soon.
Mask your feelings
Because there's no one you can show it to.
Life is so uncertain ;
That you may get lost or you'll loose
The clock is ticking
The moments are passing
Never wait  
Never stop
This stoppage may break your heart soon.

We can not go,
This, I have said this to myself millions of times.

But, that day my heart took the driver’s seat.
My mind stopped working like a well-oiled machine.

I was in the middle of the urban jungle, the concrete city of cars, traffic, and cookie-cutter homes...
The land of squared, sanitized spaces, and constant noises from technology, automobiles, and the noise in our heads to keep up with the rat race.

I closed my eyes

Then, I opened them again.

A different reality!
A dream, of course!

I found myself in a jungle of green, moist, humid sweat.
This was the land of  kaleidoscopic dreams;
The monkey’s howls pierce the air -
birds symphonically, swimming together in the air-
Life in every single layer of nature

I felt myself
Losing myself in the greenery
The lushness
The awe

I had time to contemplate
In my contemplation, I decided, the only thing in life is real is the story I create in life

And as I go through the forest
My thoughts become more developed and articulated

I slash at everything that does not make sense
I slash at every idea
Every preconceived notion
Of
Who I thought
I am

I cut like a savage warrior
On a mission
Branches, dangling distractions
Temptations of fruits and branches that grab at my waist,
And more branches, like physical arms tieing me down like chains

I slash the blade
I cut with no intention of where I want to go

Exhausted, I rest my head

In the darkness in the middle of the amazon

A jaguar comes to me
With their yellow eyes waiting in the corner - It observes me in the bushes
I sit still
Is this a message for me?

Wanting to hear what I have to say
I wait and wait
I stay up all night.

As I wait for prophecies
The jaguar eventually leaves me alone in the darkness

Dissapointment rages inside me
I am left in more uncertainity

But, my heart spoke really loud today
Something took a hold of me
I was not rationale.
I was not cautious..

I opened my backpack and dumped everything off a cliff
I ran and jumped in the blue ocean

Finally
I listened to my heart
Finally...

i was going to fold the sunday newspaper many times...
just to get a postcard sized output...
or whatever you'd like to call it...
   i was taught that creasing pages of books
or folding edges of pages in book
was very much a blasphemy...
     call that weird, i call living to reach
atheism and vomitting scientific facts
   a bit like creating a Frankenstein monster...
  to be honest, i feel like a frankenstein monster...
    i have absolutely no care for allegiance...
i'm in free-fall mode...
     i feel nor care to feed some patriotic
adventure into a war...
  i was folding a sunday newspaper
remembering that fetish i had for
three newspapers being opulent and about
men imitating women by folding them
akin to knitting... the guardian,
the daily telegraph and the times...
   only one of the three remained true to its roots...
i loved watching people fiddle with these
titans... folding them like taking a scrap
of a toilet-paper bite and folding it several
times before taking another fold...
and wiping for the **** that could just as well
be a mouth...
        we also call it playing cards...
that game where your *** speaks more reason
than your mouth, and how
     the three top layers of cards, king queen
and jack are doubled to have a mouth
either side of the mouth-**** copernicus...
    so you can't tell the two apart...
**** or talk? dunno... it sounds very much alike.
  but these co-op people are bothering me....
they're asking me about my age
every time i buy a beer...
   is that some sort of pick-up line?
          ok ok, i get the acne and it's not comfortable
for me either, i guess my *** could make it
into a fashion magazine quicker than my face...
   what's this?
             i get the acne, i have a beard...
do babies have beards?
       it's a beer... it's not a bomb...
    this has to be some sort of fetish...
                       it's a bit like finding your second
loss of virginity... apparently it's called 25...
  it's not even murky waters of 16 / 18...
do i look over 25?
    ha ha... yeah mate... 30...
     i feel like chewing on some chicken bones,
or biting into a human cheek, to bite past the cheek
and eat the tongue in cheek...
     why do people become so annoying that
you retaliate thinking about cannibalism?
   what's with them being so primmed into
the role of supermarket cashiers?
     they're gagging for violence, aren't they?
they are... they must be...
           oh right... oscar night...
  this sunday times magazine... kept folding it
and folding it... until it was comfortable to read,
hardly a reason to do the same with a hardback book....
oh wait... the heresy, and the need to respect the book
as if every book was a koran,
bookmarks... but no no to folding
the edges of pages having arrived at...
you want to know a secret?
  Poles have a tendency to mummify flowers
  by putting them in books... true story...
Poles mummify flowers by storing them in books...
if you really want to understand the true
bibliophiles... as the Poles what they do with them...
   i mean, it would be hard to mummify a cactus in a book,
or that glutton that's the autumn thistle...
      they really do mummify flowers in books,
the Poles... which is why they come up with
the need to use bookmarks, and the religion
of never folding edges of books to replace bookmarks,
or what a suit has, and the cravat suddenly missing...
     now i kinda get why there has been no
islamic attack in poland, this etiquette of
respecting books, translated into how i
might treat a newspaper... folding it...
     jaw for jaw... manidble, cheap, cheap and
everyday... about to be deemed fake...
      i get that, like i know you take off the sleeve
of a hardback edition and then put it back
on once you handled the didlo fabric...
                and some women might
call charming the limp phallus like man might
charm a white rabbit from a top-hat...
    or what the madonna-***** complex explains...
had it been better approved for the care to
explain today... or vhy whittle kaiser wilhelm
was the  original oedipus prototype / the freudian muse...
what was my original concern to fill
the void of defeat that's: making war using a blank canvas?
oh right... la la land... the actress...
    emma stone... it's like i almost recognised her face...
i was thinking ethan hawke...
but i was thinking of a different red-head...
i was thinking the film predestination...
and... she almost looks like both a shadow and a face
thief at the same time, to define the case of
doppelganger...
   but it really wasn't her... it was sarah snook...
another redhead...
or maybe it was this private conversation that
had me started... or how: predestination
can be replaced by a concept that's even more
shock-awe... coincidence?
    i make history happen in the private
sphere of counter ego-tripping
by making newspapers into origami,
        folding them to make digesting them more
realistic, and also opportunist...
                 sometimes i do make the odd punctuation error,
but then again... look at all this space









                                                  ­                 .
just one of the reasons people write poetry,
or at least what later becomes non-orthodox
avoiding of rhyme...
  rhyme used to be the original punctuation
in poetry, people used to
   eat and
                 sleep...
   but then writing poetry became an uncertainity
concerning the paragraph,
it was eaiser to punctuate a paragraph
knowing if; or: and esp., to say something more...
   which is one of the reasons for the "improvement"
of punctuation, the dot dot dot of poets
and the ditto enclosure of existentialist philosophers.
poetry to me is a deviation from punctuation,
it requires the cascade mechanism to allow it
expression with bravado, and the zenith of
arrogance...
                         to me poets are
punctuation-phobes....
                                  here me... imitating the two
figures in the Salmaan Rushdie novel, d i.e.,
  what was it? two people falling off a plane...
one drops like a tombstone stiff...
                the other is all panicky pretending to
invoke the capacity of being a pigeon...
what was that book?
              still.... i was just buying a beer and i get
asked for my age...
                i sometimes love when people
can be as annoying as that...
                        if i were a woman i'd be saying
that it was a compliment;
so i am... writing this "poem".

concerning an article in the sunday times, titled baited, 13 - 16 year old girls, a mix of cyberbullying, revenge **** & creepshots... ah... here comes lady burqa, to set the standard of civilised behaviour... now... i can't agree that islamophobia exists... but sure-**** i can testify to a burqa-phobia... hell! i can even attest to a niqab-phobia, and to be honest... that, that is a reasonable phobia... let's use the proper terms, please! anyway... regarding this baiting... oh man, these ***** ought to have known better, as those taking the selfies... why? because i'm starting to think that people take more photographs, than actually blink with their eyes... whatever happened to the mirror?

some people strive for ambitious lives,
   head over heels types,
    the ones in microcosmos of
their own ***...
    me? i, just, want, my, life,
to represent, the lazy consistency
of a sunday...
          for my life to be as busy as...
                                      sunday traffic;
it's not a self-doubt that's plaguing me,
i'm not an automaton yet,
             but with that i wonder:
   if they have all the hormones and
chemical compounds excavated
to represent *love, which ones are
         the ones to represent doubt?
doubt? oh, those minor "panic-attacks",
the fun bits of being alive
   living inside the dynamism
                                  of uncertainity...
i was ambitious once - now?
        well, i know i stop enjoying
   fiendish sudoku puzzles, and rest
my case on the difficult tier...
                there's no point striving:
if you don't enjoy it -
    as harsh as it might sound -
         poetry will always speak to me in
the tongue of impromptu -
    with eyes of lightning flashes -
as long as it remains in this state -
  i'll be content -
   i can't imagine a novel,
the tedium of it, the constipation -
the rewriting, the 2 to 3 years -
with the only merit attached to a novel
is solely based on how long
it took to be written...
               constipated / frustrated
novelists, i can image...
                    on the other hand...
it's quiet easy to imagine ******
snowflake poets too.

Embedded in my soul are the words never spoken.
Kept hidden behind a curtain of uncertainity.

Embedded in my soul are the actions never taken
Kept locked in cages of regret.

1.     January- Patience

Patience is difficult,
Not attainable,
Elusive,
Far away,
Doesn’t come easy,
I need it
I wait for it
Patiently.
  
2.     Feb- Uncertainty

Uncertainty is a reality
I can’t run away from it
I can’t not accept it
I can’t let it not flow in my world within and out
I can be aware of it
I can accept it
I can let it be
I can let it go…
Uncertainty is certain.
  
3.     Mar- Hope

Hope is knowing that dawn is near
Hope is knowing that winter turns into spring
Hope is that I can get up every time I fall
Hope is in moments that count and blessings that surmount
Hope is in smiles, in holding hands and in every breath
Hope is life.

4.    April- Exhaustion

Exhaustion is in my exhale
Exhaustion is in yearning for silence
Exhaustion is numbing
Exhaustion is mental, emotional, physical
Exhaustion is losing the wind beneath my wings
Exhaustion is starting all over again, yet again
Exhaustion is in giving- giving- giving without a pause
Exhaustion is need for a pause…

5.     May- Self Love

Self love is life’s elixir
It’s a tribute to my existence
Its what I owe my being
Its love that unifies and makes me love others
More fully, more authentically, more truly
Self love is in my yoga
Self love is in my evolution
And embracing it fully
Self love is indulgent and also disciplining
Its non judgmental and inspirational
Self love is what I am most loyal too.

6.     June- Anxiety

Anxiety is mirroring those closest with anxiety
And compounding it
Losing it
It’s a struggle.
Its real
It's not a happy space
It settles with a pause, with distancing
With distracting and with facing head on.
Anxiety- Real, Tangible, alive
Anxiety- needs strategies, needs to be tamed.

7.     July- Friendship

Friendship is real and authentic
It’s not in years
It’s not in agendas
It’s not in plans
It’s in  real conversations
Real sharing
Real giving
Real taking
Really the answer.
It makes us be better than we are
It lets us be the way we are
I have so many friends and each one
Has a different place on the ship.
This ship is traveling somewhere from nowhere
Friendship- Real and thriving…  

8.     August- Rest

Rest is cuddles
Rest is deep breaths
Rest is pause
Rest is a cup of coffee and my kindle
Rest is silence
I need rest…

9.     September- Vitality

Vitality is buoyant
It is springy
It is “lets do it”
It is karma
It is action
Vitality is on
Vitality flows
Vitality is excitement and energy
Vitality  is throbbing
It is  life and being alive

10.  October- Peace

Peace is alignment of mind body and soul
Peace is calm
Peace is within and around
Peace is a choice
Peace is facing problems and resolving them
Peace is active
Peace is my succour
Peace is OM.

11.  November- The future

The future is hope filled
It's what I patiently contribute to
In the present
It's my acceptance of uncertainity
Its evolving


12.  Dec - I am

I am a butterfly woman
A spirit child
Unfolding, evolving, nurturing,
Resilient, strong, capable
Magical, Sparkling and real
I am the wanderer and wonderer
I am dawn each day!

- MSD January 2021

All the way along
you will be there on my  side.
Through good & bad, day & night
till my last time.

You breathe in me with thy spirit.
Purify my heart & soul.
I look to  you with all my faith
because you love me more than anyone.

I may lost the vision of my life
but your heavenly voice directs in uncertainity.
Though I'm in a violent ocean,
I have my anchor fixed in you.

I was a sinner before my first cry.
You cleansed me with your holy blood.
I deserved nothing less than death.
With everlasting grace you picked me up from hell.

I felt all alone in daily life.
I locked my dreams in a room.
I lost its key in my life's journey.
But God opened the door for me.

I floated like a deadfish along with flowing river.
Alas, I got struck on a mighty rock & shed blood.
With pain & pleasure, my sail renewed.
I swimmed against the river.

I sat as a dew drop on leaflet.
Winter breeze slided me to the tip.
I  turned around & looked for options.
I fell down, not on rocks or thorns,but into safe hands.

Enter at your own risk.
Into an unknown abyss.
Seduction of the sun kiss.
An ungranted wish.
Fate with a twist.
Darkness shadows, echos fades.
You I want to follow.
A choice I made.
A occupy my time.
Gather my thoughts.
Be greatful for what's mine.
Reflect on what I bought.
Music draws me in to bind unfought through each chime.
Coldness clings to the voice that sings.
Fear & haunting is not what it brings.
Intriguing & capitvating trapped in a hypnotic trance.
Irresistable & unescapeable ****** in.
In a personal bubble. I fall & tumble.
A uncontrollable cycle.
I trip & stumble. Without bearing or direction.
I chose a path with further neglection.
Without a guide.
My heart openwide.
My uncertainity subsides.
Through the foggy light I glide.
Parallal to default to seek what I sought.
Senseless relent it was there I was sent.
Calling me to it.
Fragmented bit by bit. Reforming a whole to the other side. Teleported through a watery tide. Plasma fluid like sewage.

the greeks coined the phrase: deus ex machina, as i later coined: **** in machina as compliment; but the latins? given the current scope of anti-history with the big bang? a redefiniation of "god"... god? in-statio impetus... man? ex-statio impetus... it's called a szlifierka approach, i.e. grinding / refining definitions... well... "refining", etymology is much excused from changing to chancing excuses of the "proper" terms, they're never accurate enough to become rigid as god in bone, or stone... the paradox? in the beginning was the word... but then word met its teacher etymology, and then its hog, that fashionable vocab discredited and in the holy status thought up: fickleness and the easy sway; as might be considered later: **** ex machina est deus... but? deus in machina est ****... although that's not exactly true... given the consequences of man's "fathomibility" argument for god in atheism, but the unfathomability argument for god in a tornado, in an earthquake, the tital wave, in the tsunami... sorry, but atheism only works in a cosy bedroom + the internet... each and every god is protected by the penta titans of tartarus.

man within the confines of possessing
a heart,
seeks either the exhilaration of it,
or the patience of a learned mind
which invokes the silent heart...
but man is rarely bound to succumb
to the endeavour of an
   un-scratched uncertainity;
the "jealous" god:
                       has a scathing heart;
as man's soon becomes -
          a worthwhile mute of an argument
presented, before the democratic
liaison of opinions...
  few dare cross into this dynamic,
        only the heart chooses,
  the occupant of it cannot...
                   the heart is a fickle thing,
even among the gods...
           to make mind attuned with
the heart, is to become almost robotic...
the mind can tell you that: 1 + 1 = 2...
but the heart?
                     it has no number
on its altar...
         its impetus resides with words,
and is by words defined,
i describe god,
    i am only describing a horizontal
force... whatever horizontal means
in copernican terms...
  of an *impetus....
   god the impetus immobilis
          (the in-stans impetus) -
how else conceive the 72 hebrew nouns,
and consolidate them into adjectives
of the omni- prefix?
    in-statio impetus...
                the rigid format of the rock...
and conerning man?
                             ex-statio impetus...
see the intro in italics.
                    i need to re-read this sober,
i used so many greek and latin prefix
deviations,
   that i'm starting to think i've written
gibberish...
                      nonetheless,
atheism becomes slightly ******* when you
mention the penta titans of tartarus...
        what i mean is that
my "definition" of god is an impetus...
i don't know either, was i born with this
disability, this "mental illness" of conjuring
up the mere notion of a god?
   i never thought that western psychiatry
cared that much about such "madmen"...
   i don't know what the cure for this "disease" is...
perhaps importing a load of muslims?
yep... that'll work... bring it on
         you ****-suckers!  you base-line
                                           ****-philiacs!

Maybe i was deaf and mute and even crippled with a foggy mind
But i heard your song
even called out for you
An impossibility of a mirage turning to a reality
The way you glanced made the uncertainity that quilted my mind ,melt

I danced to the silent music ,i mocked the nightingales
the agony was forgotten ,far far away
the mind that adored fretting about the unknown future,
fell silent ,closed his eyes
somehow my soul spoke
                          the tomorrows are never here
                              the yesterdays are never to be seen
                                    left with a blooming today
                                         left with the miraculous life
His language was alien but i grasped each word
Love hath power to melt the stones
stones that locked me in ,made me blind , made the world strange
love hath power that make everything divine
everything and anything

.i can't stop being fascinated by the optics
of a relit rollie,
       esp. with one as a purse,
with dry tobacco...
                    watching the smoke escape
the room and begin its fathom
                            of the readied night.

we need more turkish barbers!
we need more turkish barbers!
        why would i trust anyone with
my beard and hair,
if he wasn't a turk?
                     they still are the most
adequate people for the job...
and i really can't stop internally giggling
at the fact that
i discovered a brothel many years prior
to having discovered a barber's parlour:
when was it ever a shop?!
    that yesterday when i left 4 quid
for a bet...
            maybe that's why i don't like
gambling,
      once a year does it for me,
those feelings of uncertainity,
while the race is staged...
          although this year wasn't so bad...
maybe 3 horses had to be put down
due to broken legs (seeing how they
sleep, standing up),
   and at least one jockey experiencing
the hooved stampede...
poor sweet *******...
                 i should have betted on
the favourite...
                i should have,
but you rarely do,
  you're always rooting for an outlier,
the odds changed from
7 - 2 from yesterday to 5 - 1...
      for the 4 quid spent,
  i would have got an extra quid back...
but, once again...
          it was never about the money...
the feelings associated
with losing don't really frighten me,
as simply make me feel
wearing a cotton sweater...
itchy as ****, and some...
                  ****, what were my choices
again?
       never mind,
i'll come back to them...
           i thought the weather forecast
implied: rain... overcast,
   so i based my judgement on that...
but lookie lookie: sunny as if it wasn't
england, but the south of france!

    up for review - ha ha... down
  on the first fence...
   folsom blue - 17th fence...
  general principle - ha ha... 19th fence
ramses de telilee - 28th fence
      ballyoptic - 26th fence...
   mala beach - 29th fence
          go conquer - 29th fence...
   lake view lad - 27th fence
jury duty - 19th fence
   vieux lion rouge - wow... 15th place
bless the wings - 13th place! devil's dozen!
step back - 25th fence.

   ah ha ha ha! maybe the bet should
have consisted of finding the horses
that "thought", **** it, i'm not jumping!
one thing to gallop on a horse
in the woods and in the fields
for both the thrill of the horse
and yourself, another for a competitive spot...

ha ha... i guess something good came
from this bet,
i managed to... "bet" on how many horses
would not follow the rules
of man...
     i guess it could be considered
hard to find a winner...
    but harder to find...
how many is that?
        10 horses that had the sort
of intelligence associated with...
           i'll plough the field...
    i'll work, i'll do all the pomp and circumstance
of a military parade...
       i do have a brain, you know,
**** this race, i'm pulling out...
       i could have betted on the winner...
the signs were there,
      esp. given last year
and this year's performance at
the cheltenham festival...
        all of the 4 quid...
  5 - 1...
                 20 quid richer,
a free bottle of whiskey...
       but why? when i have this doodle
instead?

Vague, a word used for uncertainity
Vague, a word used for unclarity
Vague, a word used for your sincerity

You know why your sincerity?
Because your love for me is uncertain
Even a telescope cant see it clearly
For it possess so much unclarity

You should accept me
Not because i accept you
Accept me
Because you accept me

Love me
Not because i love you
Love me
Because you love me

And it's almost as if
I am an inmate of a hostile commotion
and you
are the visiting  hours
opening  from 3 to 4
always leaving me wanting more
hung in a noose of uncertainity
behind that barbed wire fence

i had to turn to judaism, christianity was turning bonkers! what, with the nag hammadi library running rampant, and the vatican's cowardly lack of constraint, its sloth, its general absence... with the nag hammad library running rampant, no one is going to believe the greek fairytale of revising the "old" testament; it's still the only testament... just read two lines of the historian josephus, align that with the emperor nero, and, by my guess, the book of revelation, was probably the first book written in the tome.

i've already written about this,
   the *etz ha-chayim, oh no, these times
do not require a rebel spinoza
questioning chronological authenticity,
to keep the idea of a trinity,
   i already said my yesod "person"
and the subsequent dynamic for man...
    for man cannot meditate on either
    the keter (crown) nor
                            the malkhut (kingship),
in that the father is represented by
   the keter, and not the malkhut -
but akin to lucifer not merging into satan,
the heresy of the son becoming the father
is also a heresy with regards to
  the etz ha-chayim dynamic,
                                 which is as follows:
he, who has the malkhut of gevurah
  (kingship of strength)
is he who has the keter of chokhmah
   (the crown of wisdom)...
  ah... i'm stuck...
           i have to divide the tree in half,
and bring to realisation, which quality
is associated with the keter,
         and which with the malkhut...
i have to understand,
    and then the inverted complication -
a matisyahu song supplies the energy
behind the thought: king without a crown -
since the keter is but an ornament,
              and can be the highest tip,
  or the lowest ebb in what's actually
           the malkhut (kingship) / authority:
esp. one that doesn't require pomp & circumstance
of a public affair,
  the part where you don't wear
you sunday's best to church.
  and so too the revision with the revision -
life would be so un-interesting
         without the "plagues", pangs of either
doubt, or love...
             some settle for the uncertainity
of love, others who oppose narcissus,
cherish the racing emotions of doubt -
    and can see the cognitive speculo,
   dare i say, the cognitive kaleidoscope?
let's keep it german -
                          gedankespiegel...
beside the point,
   funny how the ejection of the jews from
europe occured,
   how the muslims came,
   and how someone born into
a christian "tradition" spotted a lot of sense
in what the jews kept for the past cenutries...
i'm enraptured by the teachings...
             i have no qualm with the, ugh,
passed sentence...
  for i do not believe in man ever attaining
the keter: ehyeh asher ehyeh
   ambition... for it is so grand,
      that i dare not act out the part
or seek a route toward representing it,
  however ambitious man can be,
           there is no man in the world, present,
future, or past, that can be the keter
expression of the tree's dynamic...
                         no man...
                                                 ever:
no utterance from a divinity, as divinity per se,
can ever come from the mouth of flesh.
yet i find myself asking,
   have i made a just system of
  dissecting the etz ha-chayim?
   after all, the keter is a Σ,
   otherwise also: the summum bonum,
i.e. that which is unattainable by man,
   with that said, the highest good self-evidently:
for what man would transgress his
     status ****, to reach for the castles
     made from clouds, in aspiring divinity?
prior to this ambition,
      the highest peak was of everest
   and a demi-god...
   after? everest humbled, and the saints were born.
nonetheless, i'm finding it hard
to attire the other qualities,
   is the keter superficial,
   as a wedding ring is on a finger
                                is to state a love and
the embedded laws of monogamy?
   or is the keter the ad infinitum potency
   of meditation, that leads to only the humbling
of donning the kippah?
                       here i'm cross-eyed
                   with regards to = ÷ (equally dividing)
the qualities between
   the keter: ehyeh asher ehyeh
                           and malkhut: adonoy -
thus said, the greatest point made by the tree
is a message: understand beauty -
                                           binah tiferet,
ah... the entry point of the disparity -
    no man can claim the dynamic of
                keter-chokhmah -
the crown-of-wisdom,
                                  no matter if donning
a liturgy of fancy attires,
    popes can speak the most baseless accounts
of what needs to be done...
   hence the superficial aspect of the keter
emerges...
        but indeed there is one,
  who can provide a malkhut-cholhmah,
               how many philosophers can say:
i have no university degree, i have no superficial
symbol of being, said authority,
  and still topple those who have "authority"
in what they attire themselves in,
  but nonetheless have no authority to show
when being unmasked?
                       as it stands, i will not make
this into a systamatic musing,
   where i might have dissected
                                  the entire etz ha-chayim,
while pondering whether
  the keter or the malkhut are to
be alligned with chokhmah (wisdom),
      binah (understanding), chesed (love) -
  keter-chesed - that's obvious:
   the superficial kind of love - as apparent
with lack of intervention;
          gevurah (strength) -
          malkhut-gevurah: the strenght to
not intervene;
                       tiferet (beauty),
                    hod (splendour),
                                 netzach (victory).
i exclude the yesod (foundation) from this
deliberation, since the yesod is reserved
solely for man to ponder the already mention
qualities, while at the same time excluding
the two impossibilities of attaining either
the crown, or the kingship (mastery) of each
of the stated aspects...
                   now that i can conclude,
      for god, the keter is what he is,
    but when looked upon by man,
             and in vanity trying to attain:
   only the source of superficiality,
           of fakery,
                            or the crown of myrrh,
the spectacle of golgotha,
                                   and idols,
    and iconoclasm...  and all the more fakes
             celebrated as pop culture...
                                        pseudo-martyrdom.

Its always good to wish
For that one thing you lack
Its always wise to desire
What you have always missed
But then its far much wiser
To put your hands into labour
So as to get the greatest one thing
That would melt your heart with joy
There may be tough times ahead, yes I know
Periods of fatigue and agony
And periods of disillusion and uncertainity
But keep your head on the target
It will help you forget your tribulations
Because the finish line is far much glorious than the journey
And I will be the one who will await
Your triumphant cross when the time comes.

why do people still cling to the post-socratic
notion entombed
      in the two branches of aristotle
and plato - that you can teach something -
where in fact you can only teach
people nothing -
      by saying, likewise:
  you can't teach philosophy, you have to
live it...
   and yes, the systematic approach of
writing tracts, hinting at solipsism,
         working toward the divine res per se -
also invoke the geometry of both
the halo and the wheel...
      for if you read closely,
establishing a systematic argument /
foundation, you also establishing
an avalanche effect of becoming
               inexhaustible in effort, and so
too in output...
           yet such thinking only arises
when you find a 20th century titan
with an appreciation for poetry, well:
a respect, that on the balance of libra
outweighs a love for -
   that allows the camel the needle's eye
path in squeezing into a state of
pleasing agitation...
                  only when you find someone
beyond the poets' poet,
namely a poets' philosopher -
     someone who can guide you onto
a path of the inability to exhaust
    the polygrammatic use of language -
or thereby finding it;
             of course: da-sein,
   but there's a there beyond a posit
or known coordinate...
        what's covert about this concept is
not exactly a there,
               but the depth of a there -
                  da-sein-im-schweigen-allein;
and yet, that forever pressing
post-scriptum of the british empire -
that pompous affair of quested for
superiority - reduced to nothing more
than a post-colonial-stress-disorder -
    a neurotic golum of
          wished-to-have-acted-otherwise,
as taught by the angevin dynasty's fold,
instigated by a sickly augustus;
certain strengths blind,
           while certain weaknesses enlighten;
that said,
  you can't be taught anything of
a disconcerting nature -
        for who would dare to learn a logic
of confining agitation, uncertainity -
                           and rick?
                    which is why most people prefer
the simpler threats of such ontology -
haggling in a market,
                                      or gambling!
in writing this, what have i learned?
absolutely nothing, i gambled with
a blank piece of paper, and this is the gambler's
reward.