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Mateuš Conrad Oct 2016
only today i learned ø denotes
        an encoding of diameter,
and it's Scandinavian,
                     or how the globe is
past the equator,
         and the lob-sided earth,
winters in Australia in the Summer months
in Europe.

    high philosophy begins with Beijing
dialectical highs,
    but take the route of lower philosophy
and encounter diacritics rather than dialectics,
because that matters, too,
        θought, a moral ought,
   and φilosoφy - and missing ought -
          and the two being irreversibly twins
in said... or θought an immoral ought,
                 sure, tubes, mistook ø74 for something
akin to φ...
    high philosophy never acquires a diacritical
dilemma...
                  or why local don't do anything
but actuate automatic application
   and those immigrant, or bilingual troops question...
    ø = diameter, not to be confused with the θ;
             higher philosophy begins with dialectical
beginnings,
               "lower" philosophy also begins with
dialectics, but it ends with diacritical application,
rather than utopian: nowhere from nothing.

what am i going to say next? *machado de assis's

philosopher or dog? introduction.

          ........................................­..................................
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.......................................................­.............................
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(or a paragraph on the pleasure of drinking,
    or how to save you an optometrist appointment,
or how to take an interlude,
   to do the opposite of the Andy Warhol stipend
for making enough buggers hearing your
opinion, unchallenged,
                    but never having a diacritic concern).
hence the pending, or what everyone seems to
desire these days, circa 100 years later,
     how to provoke an interlude, how to hunger
for interludes rather than fame,
           i also drew a sketch before starting,
       shat -
                  and hey presto!
           ****!
                   yuck in orange in florescent.
yellow (florescent), F, pretty pretty pretty,
          in pink the bit about diameters and phi,
           again in yuck orange: swigs and the wiggle...
a paged concern for graffiti.
                  again, pending, yet to be hottie
and poster boy of a poem,
        again the impromptu break worth of fame that
actually isn't fame, but a chance to compare
                   how much whiskey makes up for the
Niagara continuum.
        again, (pending):
............................................... (how the hell do you
write pending ~15 minutes later?!)

the concept of Monday is greatly undermined
by Darwinism,
    as is Tuesday through to Sunday,
generally the function-able week desists the idea
of an Iron Age, as does the pantomime
of all that's worth celebrating -
generally speaking Darwinism is anti-history,
theology has nothing to ask of Darwinism
to argue against,
                             theology isn't a history,
but Darwinism is the purest variation
of history, variance of how we define logic
and its applicability, whether it's
i + think            /             1 + 1
    and have the moral attraction toward a 2
         or variate a moral action into a 3:
cos Radiohead simply sang 2 + 2 = 5 in a song:
cheat! matchstick principle regarding counting!
machado de assis? Darwinism is peppered with
overt imagery than salted with:
you get to sneeze a lot...
             a writer's voice: irony, mockery,
         consolidating the lessened counter-productiveness...
Flaubert, Dickens, Zola, Balzac, etc.,
                    homie, rap that **** out, condense it,
i thought Brazil was half the way America should have
endeared you? i had problems with Prussia
Austria and Russia... guess i was wrong how thuggish
i had to be with the Orpheus *******...
       cos the lyre was dumbo blunt deaf and therefore
cacka...
     higher philosophy begins with dialectics,
"lower" philosophy begins with diacritics -
     a return to the source, a debate with Ivory scales
concerning the Rosetta - a neo-formatting of
what's quiete
                           right: Sophia: hence anew: Rosetta.
and all for the pear that's woman and whether Satan
chose the fruit prudently according to Milton.
or the progress of a drunk:
centipedes and Fitzgeralds, Hemingways,
lust and last said...
                           the cf. of every apparent transitory
made to provoke the quasi and quack,
              ducking the Donald and the *****,
in agreement,
                     a happiness toward the tiresome
encrusting of what's worth being stated,
and then the deviatory,
                              as marketed a deviation
from a Louis Napoleon -
                                    because no Belarus was
to be chequered by an impeding force...
                      hence the cha cha cha...
                                    and hence the stanzas of
Argentinian tango...
              juicy and later the cruelty choking
of what some might make of Macbeath's habitual thinking
                                       worthy of a classroom
                audience; and that too is
exposable in return for being disposable.
higher philosophy is regarded as such with
dialectics,
                        but "lower" philosophy is
yet to be regarded as such with diacritics -
     not a case of what's to be said, and thus bedded,
but a case of how's something said,
                                and thus given a freedom
of: bedded, wedded, pimped, or whimpered into
                                     surviving writing a poem about;
also achieved by Humphrey and that chuckle of
revising Casablanca for an unnecessary quote dynamic /
diatribe when Hiroshima said
                 much more than the above certified:
boom! 1 million ******* dead.
       that's an overt-quote that gropes the many
amens among the citations of Marilyn, and still gets away
with                     a memory of J.F.K.,
           because that ****-honing masterpiece
was needing my memory rather
                                   than a b. b. q.    scewing.
          i find people rather forgetting:
jeopardy battered boundless gym orientational
                     thoughtless two shots of tequilas
            and three paraphrases of sours in biting a lemon
to upkeep a trough of a suntan with the H-He:
boom boom, higher tier laughter,
             ingesting that inflation of prop
                    boom boom, v bomber,
                     squeeze...
                    lob-side lo & behold,
                                       'n'        - squiggly extra thus born.
Kim Feb 2013
I can already anticipate
the unfortunate this day will be
I can already feel
the blood plumbing

…and my motivation flunking

Can I still count? The fourth, the fifth?
how many have I had only this week
It has become so common,
part of my routine, part of me.

I ineffectivly look for excuses
such as the scorching heat
and the buzzing sounds
things I always blame, when my head starts to hurt

Might it only be an inside pain
manifesting in an outside suffering?
an accumulation of disturbed thoughts
hiding in the darker spots of my over-used mind

My usual cocktail of variate pills
the usual cooling pillow
none of them have any effect
increasing the dose has no point, no more

Is there a way of curing, this bearable pain
this a slight modesty
easy to ignore, a undesirable company
that never leaves.

A friend at the door, that you can feel
it’s presence and refuse to open the entrance
to your lovely home
but then it knocks, and it knocks

The awful sound of the loud
knocks that shimmer your head
Nothing is bearable, not living
not breathing,

The screams, the yelling
of the tickling pens
My hands can’t avoid the shake
my eyes lower, trying to close

Maybe the uninvited friend will leave
if the host is found in a deep sleep
But no, the knocks won’t leave me alone.
“Complaining you wanted company? here it is, take it”.

“Don’t complain, I will be forever by your side”
Oh yes, the irony of my wishes, turning back to me.
“You have things to do” my inside voice yells
“Remember, no time of pity, just finish your work “

“And then you might be able to sleep”
Another lie, that keeps me awake
another laugh of my subconscious mind,
knowing that I will fall apart but wondering why,

Will it be the headache caused by the torment
of my thoughts? Or will it be the lack of sleep
caused by an anxious mind and the pile of tedious work
that needs to be done.

Is this enough to break me down?
“Are you this weak” laughs the cause of every headache,
Your problems aren’t even problems,
Family, past and friends, what a teenage *****.

“You are just drowning yourself in a glass of water
helped by pills”. Capsules full of chemicals
in which I hope to find an answer to my inside pain.
Pain, maybe I don’t even know what pain really means.
Arcassin B Jun 2016
By Arcassin Burnham

Making my way through the shark infested waters that
You could not bathe me in,
I put on a front for everyone to see in the smoke that I
Clear of sins,
We're so young and courageous , possibilities are
Endless with a smile and cup of tea,
When it's over , it's done , i just hope that you see that
You're the only one for me,
Rest in peace to the Prince and the Lord will provide me
Instructions to leave the earth,
I've believed I was nothing before , but the spirits have been
Kind to me since birth,
I could tell you so much of the things that I could variate
In a million ways,
Who ever thought I would be the one to the be the light
That could brighten up your day,
All the flowers lurking through deceased stems reflect the past,
How could I be sure if you are here for love or just stepping back,
Looking towards the future , do we owe it to ourselves in vain?
Diamond valley waits for no man except me with cost and shame.
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/06/indie-part-a.html
David Zavala Nov 2018
in San Francisco
It's not
clouds I Denton, Texas, Co-Ops -
mat(Oh my)ter alone again,

Yes   I'm
         I'm inside a art house            I suppose            
Can't      the country of
    China? -  god -  We
Coke Blues
                     eternity painting
        Mother

Sometimes Conceptual Space

       are brighter
                   I
                                     century
poor,
          variate
along
Your mac will sleep soonish

         home

theaters, It's  
      
a fact.
will be coming home soon.
It's not condescending.

Names are boring, sweet brooks, Chinese restaurants.
(a car crashed)

— The End —