Apparently life is more like a game,
You win according to how you play,
And winning isn't always reaching fame,
Sometimes its simply living with fulfillment in everyday,
In this "game" rules aren't really rules,
You're not obliged to follow them,
But then breaking some rules is being part of the fools,
Because you may just invite unncessary mayhem.
You don't choose who you get to fight
They happen naturally,
But of course that shouldn't cause any fright,
Because each day moving foward must built up strength enough to be protected fully.

A visitor,
not a resident
once again.

You walk in and out
as though it was a revolving door.
You visit me as though I am a sovoneour shop,
just to see how much one would miss you.

My heart has become exhausted of
the constant switch between the void and the presence.

For you make a vacation out of me,
when I ought to be a sanctuary.
You turn me into a hotel room,
when I ought to be home.

My name was not the one that was to be traced on sand and washed away by the waves
but the one you would engrave with ink on your skin.

I am oxygen
I am water
Not momentary
or unncessary
like the label of the presence of expiry you labeled me with
Or your temporary devotion.

Let's talk about feminism
Let's discuss the social perception of the cause
How misgonists claim we are equal
How bigots claim we are immoral
How ignorants can say, 'She had it coming'

Let's talk about equality
Let's explore the land of opportunity
Where being gay is 'a choice'
Where racism is more subtly projected
Where women are still fighting for equal rights

Let's talk about feminism
Let's examine **** culture
How men are excused by intoxication
How women are condemned by the same
How people can say, 'Well he is your boyfriend, isn't that what you do?'

Let's talk about equality
Let's analyze the current state of equality
Where in some states, you're protected
Where in some states, you're rejected
Where in some states, you're infected

Let's talk about feminism
Let's study the modern chauvinistic idea
How women aren't as strong
How women aren't as smart
How women aren't as logical

Let's talk about a revolution
Let's inspire a renaissance
Where equality is revelant and boundless
Where feminism is celebrated
Where protesting is unncessary

Let's talk about a revolution

since it became plain...
i'd rather imagine a kiss as...
clashing bone against bone
with a doberman of my youth...
biting its next to come
aesthetic "improvement"...
the sliting of the ears so they'd stand
***** as antenas...

where else to scout for unncessary blood?

i imagine a kiss to be equivalent
of something homosexuals dream of...
oh... my all your gracious concerns...
i too never ******
to care for procreation...

that's all before the myth that
heavy metal never couple itself
with hippy quasi-pop music
when it came to song-writting
and ****** abuse...

what?! before the a.d.h.d. phenomenon...
and trans-, transition hormone
assignement "therapy"...
before the junkies did the 7/11...
and the trainspotting...
before marylin manroe started
to speak with a husky welsh accent;
and ****?

i imagine a kiss i imagine a clash of canines...
i imagine full-on Eden ******* as:
tailoring to don some leather:
as little as a belt - as much as a pair of shoes...
let's not exaggerate to have to don
a jacket or a pair of...
"east coast" leather pair of trowlers..
yes yes: thinkestein patrick moore nervy
talk-talk back talk-talk:

there once...
there was...
either way: before the... yo bats me up
tow a granny... perv prior:
me woz a teen hot-take...
a prosecutor's *****...
a jail-bait fan-dom star...
the last voice that's revelling
in your acquisition priv. as a sentient:
self and consciousness in tow...

and it's not... your new found
"ex" english girlfriend...
with her dry rot sarcasm and what not...
because her accent is:
less of Leeds and more of Bristol...
and this is the vicinity of Loon'don
and... the deflated is the only tire
to suppose a turning motion...

and because the story of the happy...
i didn't have to wonder
for a love of my life...
one **** solved this "demand"
for pristine: look-after-each-other...
pay the tax dough...
look after the elders of strangers...
work for free! even!
that's good...

****: because you will better ****
when she's just nearing...
what was a menopause scare...
and the bride and groom brittle brat & sons and dau.
as always: **** with responsibility
to be towed!

always the never new: to ward of evil spirits...
entertain gagging them via
a cackle... more than a spoon's
worth... since Alice is bound to meet
Harry, George and Terry...
i'm probably whittle tow-e...
with... looking after grooming...

Alice's daughter...
somehow the name... Lola Flanery...
mixes itself up with my least Led Zeppelin
album and a song used for one of
my most favorite t.v. projects - sharp objects -
in the evening...
no verse... just a suspect suspense...
and no chorus...
just a relief from there being a chorus
spectacular...

does the film: the blue lagoon really require
the name Epstein...
when you can have a name like Lola Flanery
against Brooke Shields
or the elizabeth taylor jr.

three cockerels to one hen?
target audience i see...
otherwise what is it?
sugar-daddies and their supposed "babies"?
what's not the next if not next
to any forbidden fruit, for man?
adulation for the pre-through-to-hindsight
of what's the guillotine "fruit" / fate...

a man who has spent his time...
without the audience of ageing women...
will most probably look toward...
the pristine...
the purely imaginative...
his own borderline experience
of the crux of puberty...
or... akin to my 8 year old self:
premature puberty onslaught...
to have masturbated without having *******
but to have a later "revelation"
that the ******* of ***** has nothing
to do with "it"...

maybe my own 11th and only observation...
watch a film and the phantom
industry of self-gratification via day-dreaming
disappears and leaves you stranded
on Onan island... hopefuly with enough
leathers' worth of baggage and boots,
belt, trousers and tortoise shell of skin...
while all those no kippah-donning
start looking like scalped-heads...
and none... well apart from the old-skins
and those butchering the week old shadow
of the week old shadow of...
growing bald... via an inheritence of their father...
scalp-butchers-of-the-shave i call them...
skin-heads were and are...
the men who knew they would grow bald
or with a cranium crown worth of beta-male hair...
add to that the weakening of eye-sight
and 1980s pomp?
you get the drift...

this is very much teasing the opportunity...
i've had enough of a chance with one
14 year old in real life...
a black cat was my prosecutor and she did end up
in her father's cab after i reunited her with
a quarrel's worth of a friend
after a teen party...
i was walking out of a darkened park,
climbing over a fence and...
later taught her how to roll a cigarette...
bulgakov... butterflies...
exposing her cleavage...
the niqab would do just as well...
unless you want all the men to be blind...

or if you have arrived...
what doesn't give me a ******
when i look at... barbaian women...
papa new guinea and the historical myth of
the congo? i see sag... i don't see page 3...
i see the wrinkled *******
of an elephant's trunk...
not some glistening phallus of glass
and metal... a niqab is a welcome interlude
to 1 + 1 = 2... the transition period...

that sorry of state of missionary
hetrosexuality in beneath the bedsheets
cocoon ***...
even if an english girl...
with her ******* dry sarcasm...
her... drifter quote having escaped
Manchester... and made it to Loon'don...

it is a forbidden fruit...
it's a delicacy for what otherwise starve
the unimaginative...
one's own sacrilege coming to the fore...
because once a woman ages
and she is not part of your memory:
this new "adventure" of the cosmopolitan life...
of how...
i can play the pawn on an abstract
of a chessboard...
i don't need to play the pawn in real life...
i can do the Leibniz and explore...
what needs to be explored...
and satisfy myself with the prop of librarian...
there's no need for me to hide
my homosexuality by attaining statesmanship
and honours and a Westminster Abbey's
gravestone akin to Newton...
nor the peerage or to sigh at being knighted..

this is not a Eugenie de Franval observation...
it has nothing to do with...
the beauty of the daughter over-powering
the beauty of the mother...
no... much worse...
twice! by my count...

i dated two girls and...
if... the girl was not immediately preceded
by a son... or was not immediately succeeded
by a son...
i.e. if she was the eldest daughter...
and she had a younger sister...
well... that's the only example... twice!
i ended up dating this sister...
but fancying the younger as...
the more bountiful in spring...
the elder... well... what man aged circa 21
thinks about arriving somewhere when
it's Autumn or Summer...
unless it be Paris in Summer...
notably summer... ergo? inquiring as to also
being gay...

i have never met an elder sister that
i wouldn't relieve myself for the younger...
notably because... there was no interlude
for a woman to give birth to the opposite ***...
the younger sister was always more
beasutiful than the original intent...
"original"... "intent"...

there's only ever one sort of love:
the better to be best ******...
like catering... crisp white linen bedsheets,
napkins... a well rinsed palette
of anticipation being met with...
oysters and apples -
soft, supple... yet tangy when spoken of
in cockney slang...

is a poem only that? rhyme?
no... and i have taken a... fiction readers anonymous
session... rehab from fiction!
does it always have to be rhyme...
or... no... i do not have a twitter accound...
or handle... or... what gab.ai is...

Leibniz and Newton sitting in a tree...
one was gay and had to cover his tracks...
the other settled for role as librarian and...
whatever luck the german sentiment
could ever burden...
before no crown of the almighty myth of
Arthur... but donning the cufflings
of some minor prince of: say... Brandenburg.

come the end of the year, i finally feel fatigued, a complete burn out, all the excess of calorie intake from whiskey doesn't help, not even caffeine / nicotine boosters help, i'm usually so invigorated by winter, come to think of it: winter always invigorates me: so much that's the cold so much concerning the hibernating insects... ah... yet another thought... i wish i could love a girl like a teenage boy might love a girl... nuanced... androgynous, i remember quiet clearly, i used to don long hair, clean shaven... we were in Valentine's Park once, kissing on the grass, a dozen colts walked past and joyfully screamed: lesbians! lesbians! we had our giggle... in South Park we clashed teeth when kissing, we kissed so much that our lips became numb, another time in South Park she pulled out my phallus and rubbed it admiring its size... me... i thought it was tiny... big hands, can hold a basketball in one hand, could hold one in one hand since i was 16... i wish i could love like that, innocently, naively, whole-heartedly, romantically: with a heart as soft as an oyster... now... i wake up with a hardened skull... i can feel another oyster... my brain trying to escape this body, pulverising my forehead... i sometimes feel a sharp pang in my chest... i think that's where that old labyrinth of feelings use to be... now... it's merely a sinking sensation, a thrill no less, but hardly any reason to explore attachment... to a place? sure... to an animal: all the more... but... to give up the thrill of reality to being bound to a woman?! to give up, my passion for music, hell... even share it?! i'm growing old, at 35 i know i'm still in my prime, but i'm looking much further ahead, i'm preparing myself for... at worst, "worst"... a sacrificial suicide, at best the Dutch approach of marrying death via euthanasia... or... not yet, not, just yet... but i wish i could love as i once loved, so naively so child-like, mind you: i can still **** women like i used to love them in that pageant of innocence... but... beyond that? i'm sorry... that boy left... this man is not here for some mediocre soap opera novella of a love... above-point to consider... why are cats getting all the nagging, cat-lady associates etc. cult of the cat?! eh?! what about william burrough's love of cats? only women own these: bonsai tigers?! why do i have to own a dog... dogs are great when you're a boy... since usually you run around with them, freely, care-free, climb trees while they bark with concern: you're too high up! dogs are great when you're a child, a boy, someone older usually takes care of them, you just run around with them... but as you age... ****'s sake... a dog requires a leash, a dog requires a systematic: walking to take a ****... routine... sometimes even a muzzle... almost constant attention... bonsai tigers on the other hand?! what's with this ******* cat-lady meme... where's the warlock from Warsaw meme? no leash, i can ******* and do my thing, the cat can ******* and do its thing, we sometimes meet up when eating, they usually eat when i eat... the toilet? they do it secretly, or... when they really have to: in the cuvet... i wipe my own ***: why wouldn't i scoop up a doughnut of **** of pseudo-sand?! point being... no ******* walkies... no leash... i can ignore a cat... it can ignore me... if it really wants attention: i'll gladly give it, but it has to ask for it, i'm not going to simply: give it some unncessary excess!

it began with... four letters... very much unlike
the Hebrew letters of their deity...
it began with... ∇ (del): an explosion of Y...
it began with delta: Δ...
therefore it must have begun
with the keyhole and the key being turned:
the iota bound to
Θ & to Φ...
           we'll end it there... although
we could consider... Ψ (psi) -
there's an iota in that too...
but i'm looking for the Greek equivalent
of the Hebrew tetragrammaton...
why ignore the psi? the psychology emblem /
totem... the back & forth of the tetragrammaton
"we're" looking for a name of the anti-God...
starting from YHWH...
we have the fist letter...
∇Δ: del or delta... st. peter being crucified upside
down... hey-zeus hanging upright...
the combination carves: the star of David...
it doesn't matter... in terms of how
Greek letter operate, since: the letters are also
nouns that are used in science as constants...
it makes no difference where the cut-off point
comes... we'll still get a D at the end of
d-el / d-elta... but El... is a real word in
qabbalah... in the Sefirot...
wait a a while... i'll take a sip of some whiskey
while i write down the schematic of
the tree of knowledge... bear with me...

                               keter (cown)

binah                                                 chokhmah
  (understanding)                                   (wisdom)

gevurah                                              chesed
(strength)                                               (love)  EL

                                 tiferet
                                  (beauty)
hod                                                      netzach
(splendour)                                          (victory)
                                  yesod
                                  (foundation)

                                  malkhut
                                  (kingship)

surd H, vowel-catcher H of the tetragrammaton
in all the vowels: throughout...
not the prime, vowel-spawner of
laughter present...

obviously i can't simply use H: that's a vowel in
Greek... the shorter variation of epsilon...
name... H(η) eta...
sure, in the Latin script that's...
the genesis of laughter, the Hebrew definite
article... thank god we laugh via ha ha
and not by any other syllable combination...
that would be... simply... weird...
the first "hatch" of the tetragrammaton is
source of laughter... the second "hatch", H,
of the tetragrammaton is...
in English... a source of silence, of meditation...
sometimes... the H behaves as a surd...
usually an apostrophe replaces the H...
that's as close as the English folk come to
diacritical indicators...
    'atch... 'ate... they're not as bad as the French
with their letter-eating / phonetic cannibalism:
but they're up there...
e.g. is ****- offensive? did i say
Iraqi-*******-STANI?! you, ****?!
it's just lazy speech...

  *******, read the Quran or something...
sound offends you... good! you should start
listening to people talking with a lisp...
the missing trill of the R offends me,
good & proper...
who told people a trilled-R is somehow...
unfashionable, or whatever was "wong"
with a trill of the R? rolling a ******* stone
up a hill, the myth of Sisyphus?

but i have a replacement for the H...
the laughter based H: hatchet + a-lpha...
i also have the surd H... like...
the gamma in GNOME is a surd...
you could... write that word the following way:
'NOME... why bother including the gamma
in a word that... doesn't use it?!
English isn't difficult... it's just *******
pedantic... write one way, speak another...
not exactly evolved... sort of lost between
****** speak and Japanese katakana...

a sort of an ugly merging of tongues...

****'s sake... i studied chemistry at university
to end up... suckling up to...
something resembling a resurrection
of alchemy, a romanticism associated with
the science of chemistry that can only
be translated into... a new kind of wording...
Na: sodium... because... Na is not merely:
n'ah... it's NATRON...
Fe: iron... because... it's not f'eh: it's ferrum...

so beside the instigator crux of laughter...
the surd machinery... the second H of
the tetragrammaton is also a:
vowel-catcher... at first you laugh...
then you... ah... sigh...

how hard it is... to give birth... to an antithesis
of a God... esp. if... the supposed God
is a linguistic parallel... originating in the Hebrew tongue...
being part Greek... part... instigated by
the Latin script...
i need to see the antithesis lettering... prior...

i already conjured up a missing link in the
Greek pantheon... namely?
the god behind: the phenomenon of solipsism...
Solipsus...
that placebo affair: thought experiment...
with real life implications surrounding
autism...

clearly i'm becoming a burn-out...
excessive drinking, writing almost every night...
once i could get away with scribbling
this down in one nightly session...
now it takes two nights...
two drinking sessions...
i just invested 50quid's worth of *****
for the seasonal "celebrations"...

fatigue hits me like a **** tonne of bricks...
i start caving...
better me cycling for 40 miles
than... standing, stewarding a football match...
meeting & greeting the public...
creative fatigue... this sponge of  brain is
a Brian and somehow:
Brian is "missing"..
i'm spent... maximum effort: minimal results...
well... at least as a poet one
shouldn't concern himself with cancel culture
that's affecting comedians...
i hate those monologue *******...
esp. that Carr guy...
it's funny... but it's also irritating:
makes me nervous, half-baked nervous...
just ill...
so, i just ignore him...
i try... but then popular culture
keeps pressing the wrong sort of buttons...
hey presto...
that face, i'd love to punch...
for tax-evasion schemes...
maybe that's why i feel like...
itchy-knuckles... those pursed lips...
some people just have a physiognomy
you want to either: slap or punch...
can i do both?
i feel like doing both...
no offence: joke... ha ha...
am i the only one laughing?

     i've been having problems with digestion
of late... apparently i've become intolerant
to milk... will i be drinking this almond ****
for much longer... the usual stuff gives me the *****...
does it require it being doubly filtered?!
do i need to drink goats' milk
to ease eating a marzipan cookie, & dough?
please tell me, oh "lord":  i can't be away
from not driinking milk: straight out
from the profanity of life's secondary "mother"...

digressing... no more cow milk foir you...
great... if i were a Hindu...
i can eat, beef, now?! no?!
the mother load of measures conscripting me
to not eat beef... has... fizzled out...
cow milk gives me constipation &
diarrhoea...
ergo? beef's on the menu, boys!
goat though... almond... tried oats?!
i need... milk!
cheese and ******* yogurt will not
cut it for me...
goat then... can't drink beef juice...
eat beef... or... wait a little...
perhaps the juice hasn't been
double pasteurized... doubly filtered...
i, never, quiet: essentially...
expected this...

now for the red-blooded meat!
bring it!
if the cow won't give up her milk...
for my digestion...
she best give up her red...
fission of blood... fleshy discards...
scaphism...
truly: eating sometimes... somehow
becomes a torture...
as Socrates is cited to have said:
some... live to eat...
while others... eat: to live...
i do enjoy the spices...
i do enjoy the... smoked salmon
with lemon juice & a creamy cheese...
the bagel! rounded... glutton...
like a *******'s buttocks rounded up
to metaphor a peach! ha!
or the raw herring in a
creamy sauce aligned with a dill sauce...
my preferences...
not yours...

- i hate my mother, then again: i love my mother,
my fatheer ws abandoned by his,
his father...
she's currently doing my father's nails...
i showed her a Botticelli's Venus & Mars...
the one were Venus is an amputee...
the leg dynamic...
i thought it was funny... my mother thought i was drunk...
i am drunk...
come on though... can't get a joke?!
sober people... blah...
about as interesting as Brussels Sprouts...
boring rigorous little busy-bodies...

oh... right... that inverted tetragrammaton...
here:

∇ΘMΦ...

   now, your choice of vowels to impregnate
the consonants,
the Hebrews hide them like some Europeans
hide the H... via the diacritical method
of the stupendous orthography...
Charles Dickens might have cited "orthography":
i.e. a spelling mistake...
you get orthography, when you apply
diacritical distinctions... otherwise just some
"flavoursome fancy"...

niqqud:  which implies...
kametz / patach (a ****** way of saying Ah or... Ą)
tzere / segol (again, the ****** way
of saying Eh or... Ę)
sheva - well, that's not ******...
that's Ing-Leash with the apostrophe ':
akin to 'nome... some "g" or other...
cholem - that's for O(micron)
chirek - why i, i y i not j(aded),
kibbutz & shurek - upsilon for the Greek
while an acute cholem for the ******... ó)

an appellation on behalf of the Hebrews from
a Latin man inquiring about the original
investment of the Greeks in
crafting the New Testament...

can you please... come up with an "Exodus" book,
or thereby equivalent to match up to the
"Genesis": new, thus stated...
thank you for the stated genealogy "study"...
you think you're ready? has Rome died?
has the Roman alphabet imploded,
died, like Cunieform?!
i thought the Hebrew diety either:
ate up foreign dieties and made them demons
(odd show, Beelzebub)
or... smashed the phonetic encoding systems
of other people...
so, i ask... why am i still typing in Roman?!

****'s sake, i can still give you the basics of
how the coliseum was constructed...
they constructed it using VI + IV = X!

hasn't the greatest Exodus happened,
after 2000 years... Israel was returned...
lazy ***, ****'s sake... camel jockeys!
no one is going to write about your trials
and tribulations for future generations
to understand?!
how the Hebrews returned to their homeland...
almost, lazily,
do i need to spur one ******* on
to conclude the New Testament without
managing to haggle the book of the Apocalypse?!

whales that beach themselves...
what... they'll spontaneously turn into
monkeys?!
sure... they're mammals... but it's not like
they'll spontaneously grow the sort of limps
that'll enable them to climb trees!
suicide among men makes so much more sense
when whales perform the act (of suicide)...
i'm on board...
it's not even pathetic, it's just... ******* weird...
i too don't feel inclined to belong...
we can all be jokes: ha ha... banter blah
a few minutes longer... but truth be told...
this sort of ******* has a life-span that:
i'm not too sure whether i want:
to see-through fully, to a conclusion...

best be on my bicycle and block out the world;
the world can burn...
hey... if you want... i'll even involve myself
by giving the burning some ******* jazz-hand /
applause...
because these are the times...
a comedian is self-conscious of comedy
via CANCEL CULTURE...
the poet... they ignored you, they ******* on you,
they already cancelled you...
right... so, now what? i'm supposed to stand
up?! defend comedy?!
oh believe me... this is the greatest gag around!

you didn't defend the poet...
i don't think there's a need to defend "your"
sort of sorry state of "comedy"..
must have been a very bad joke to begin with...
it's the ideal returns policy:
i give out as much love as the love that was given
to me... seems fair, seems...
equilibrated, n'est ce pas?!