It will not have been a long time
that my parents sent someone with me
when I went to see the trains
after school and at the weekend

Far too often, they thought, but
I liked to be there, on the bridge
at the station, especially in this town
you could see old models pass

I know them blind, by their sound
the vibration of the viaduct
their smell if it doesn't blow too much
and the Doppler effect

It is mainly freight transport
yet the town is connected
to the big world
and still there are children

on their toes
to look over the wall
and I never saw a daredevil
scrambling on top of it

! Made himself the sky!
Venus took her fingers,
amniotic earth aura
Faded and frigid Venusian;
Bring to me Heimat ...!

In the dream my love,
Ghiberti blew through your elbows
floriarena the ammonites,
sea shoreline ...
region of my glance.

I touched her soft back,
and to rotate;
Ghiberti bring to me Heimat,
floriarena  from your region
where we saw one day
walking the stone sea.

When in a casual insight love,
my encourage love;
He acknowledged your life
siluet and Tuscan figure,
made himself aqua emerald your face
streamly explosion made himself ...
your eyes full of water,
they gave to me;
the unknown universe,
hundred time  water ...

clematis verbal slender,
You touched your lips
my shading roam step ...
dark black shadows;
... Universe, almost bluish ...

You Heimat clematis!
with the force of my love look,
ordained the word love
pine  love  walks like mist;
with igneous light monodia
whose love is my heart.

My heart is your life,
your eyes its shine;
when I look Into Your Eyes,
"My universal heaven,
I sleep waiting for your life
to love the flourishing sea "

Now it is winter,
and the wet shores of your kingdom
I think I see you in the morning;
walk with your hips made Nautilus ...

When you look at me smile sitting
play with your vulnerable figure;
her translucent ...
It appears only in the mornings ...


Heimat ammonites sleeps ...
sleeping in my footsteps ...
marking soft sea;
translucid happy that my eyes,
I bring in the morning ...

By early Sea,
the stretch your eyes and your mouth sideways
It is filled with fluid ammonites,
and you return orange the viaduct ...

The assembly gave my love thy hands;
these mobile pieces of air,
They are talking about me ...
and speaking my deep image,
My heart pounded in his voice.

How often gray sea
wash your beautiful cheek ...?
and you away from here ...
you ignored if it was night or stormy day ...


The truth is for today
you pronounce my name,
so I'll touch your lips inside;
as glanders viaduct ...
take your eyes full of light ..., the sea soon ...
the stretch your eyes and your mouth sideways,
fill with your ammonites
Orange becoming the viaduct ...

When I usually remember transfigured moon,
July cold complicity ...
It makes me get you on those points of your face,
where innocent love your sound pronounce my name
as if his arms would carry my name ...

Palest cold!
undulate like the sea,
and the sea blows like you
when I'm gone,
White ammonite not fall into wailing ...
because their translucent and dense tears,
disintegrate their coordinated fingers
these compounds and sand ...
They will not go by sea glanders;
but their soft sandy feet
shelled die teardrops wherever
without a single step to ...

"Ammonite glassy smell ...
I love to see you...,
shims because my reason and my love
here by the Sea "

Nepente taking at twilight,
to slide your goddess yarn;
i return pretend that Venus,
God as a deluded ...

Today when I closed my house,
and I stretched my arms out
I felt cold ...
and said to the cold ...:
"Look to your beloved,
never tired in looking at you ...
and if you feel my own cold,
remember you will love.


José Luis Carreño Troncoso  Copyright  15

A viaduct looms over my daily commute; trains rattle above.
I pass through its belly each day.
A canal ambles beneath one armpit,
Scrubland loiters under the other.

In the belly , glaring headlights inch forward towards their kin;
Metal, rubber and glass jostle for place,
Engines thrumming.
Shiny shoes pinch and stiff collars tighten;
Fingers start drumming.
Deadlock.
Gridlock.

On the indolent canal a barge floats serenely, fat fish meander and
Skinny - legged moor hens tiptoe through the reeds.
An old man in rough tweeds pokes his stick through the scrub land on the other side,
Searching for blackberries.

Lights change futilely; amber, green and red.
Engines rev and teeth grit.
The belly rumbles.

Ducks fly in and land on the still water of the canal.
They swim in formation under the bridge.
On the other side the old man sits to eat his fill
His fingers purple with juice.
Clouds scud, a breeze cools and the sun appears.

Collars stiffen, indicators tick, nails are bitten
As the cars inch forward.
The bloated belly heaves
As a few cars cross the border to meet another impasse.

Concentric circles appear on the surface of the water
And gnats flicker above it.
A family of coots sets out for a morning outing
And a kestrel hovers above.

Deep in the undergrowth field mice
Scurry away from the old man's boots.
Dry sticks snap under his heel
and the sun warms his thinning pate.

He takes the slow path through the undergrowth,
Meets an ancient lane
And strolls the familiar path home.

A bridge from colloquial to courtly fare
A span where idealism and fantasy pair
A railway to the existential realm; celestial lair
A conduit through which rational discourse can flare

Deep medium to: forage, inculcate, and inform
Broad brush to paint rare beauty; sculpt surrealistic form
Incisive scalpel to surgically alter the societal norm
Delicate utensil to educate on civility and decorum

A literary *****; a prosaic construct
A mechanism our syntax to deconstruct
An analytical tool; an observational viaduct
Introspective milieu to reduct; extrovertive sphere to reconstruct

A semantical edifice that aspiring wit, lofty orations implore
An experimental structure gramatical anomalies to explore
A thematic repository in which concrete ideas, abstract notions to
pour
A vernacular cathedral butressed by an idiomatic core

I am The Shoes of Shoes,
which are Solomon’s. Let him polish
me with the oil from his brow, for his gloss
is better than sunshine.

Because of the fragrance of thy ointment buffed
upon me, thy name
is Scent Shine, therefore do the ****** shoes
love thy feet. Stretch me,
with your Shoe-Tree, and I will run
& rejoice with thy feet through
gardens & woods, and across mountains alike.

I am leather, but comely, O ye Daughters
of Shoeshopingham, as The Pile Beneath
the Prophesised Viaduct, and as in the abundant
bottom of The Wardrobe of Solomon.

Look not upon me, because I am leather,
but put me upon thy feet for I
am thy soles.

I am the Rose of Shoe, and the Lilly of The Laces.

As the strong shoes among thorns, so
is my love among The Shod.
As the tongue that tightens to the fruit of the foot, so is
my beloved among The Shod.
His left foot is in my left purse, and his right
foot is my right, tight.
The Polish of My Beloved, behold, cometh
glinting off llyns, he cometh leaping upon
the mountains, with both of me tight on his feet.

Looketh fourth through The Round Window
of Wisdom, through The Lattice see
him shoeing himself with my flesh.

Take us the socked foxes, the little foxes that chew & spoil,
for our shodding is tender.
My Loved Shod’s feet are mine and my leather is his.
Until the day break, and the unshod shadows flee, turn
my Loved Shod, and be thou like the shoe young on the mountains.

Behold, thou art fair, my shoes, behold thou art shoes as fast
as a flock of goats over the Mountain of Shoedon.
Thy laces are like soft strands of moss, which have been spun
& woven in the Workshops of Acorns by The Grubs of Oak.
Thy eyelets are like the sweet slots in which nestle
the seeds of the pomegranate.
Thy tongues are like scarlet leaves fallen from speaking
trees, and thy squeak as I walk in thee is comely.
Thy heal is like the shield that should’ve been
fashioned for Achilles.
Thy two toe caps are as sleek & pert as the twin otters
that fish among the lilies.
How beautiful are thee, shoes for feet, O Goddess’s daughters,
the joints of thy soft foot-slot smooth as the gleam
of jewels, the work of the hands of a cunning cobbler.

O Solomon set me twin shoes as seals
upon thy feet, for Love is as strong
as The Road to Dead we must follow. O
my Loved Shod! for every one
of thy steps you make

in me is my bliss.

Is it my priestly duty
to be denied?
love—time and all else, at all cost!
while he went home alone to watch a movie?

Another victim  
sacrificed
having squandered all my pieces in his game?
Trudging home
along the river
slow, in snow
I parse my losses

At the outskirts of a homeless camp
I pause below a viaduct
hauling passion by a leash
warming hands
avoiding hovel-eyes
Flames flicker on our faces
receiving absolution over embers
of a burning embrace

There trace
in glowing holocaust of skids
in human bleatings and crumblings
our smoke rises— pure   obscure
Appease with *****-blur
the icy, stinging God of winter stars...

G’nights inaudible as blessing

Am I derelict enough to be worthy?
Fallen far enough?
from the porches of prosperity?
to escape it all?
That wedding white
the newborn’s head
that numbing denial of decay?

Am I depraved enough to make it?
to the pages of your tragedy— minus poetry?

But the angel said
“The poetry’s more!”

Than leaving me—beyond you

...in the shambles of my words

I

In the afternoon

Low cloud a shadow blanket
against the hills, stillness
in a summer landscape but for
insistent sheep,
a railway train,
pigeons conversing
in the tree-laced lane.

Before the conservatory windows
stands the kitchen table
relocated to accommodate
this making, these crafted
objects turned and touched
between her small hands,
between her deft fingers.


II

In wonder

You stopped by the roadside
in wonder at the profusion
of grasses, weeds and flowers,
whelmed over by a confusion
of chaotic design you know
can never be brought entire
to imagination’s mirror.

But surely a corner
of these complex forms,
in a quicksilver moment
you’ll catch – one day.
Until then, hold to this image
in wonder.


III

Whispering

Your beauty catches me
as a breath of wind
against the face
wholly and fulfilling
as your gentle kiss .

I imbibe your stillness here,
as head-pillowed you rest
into sleep in this quiet space,
this unaccustomed place
where coming together
(separate in our thoughts,
apart in our work),
we find ourselves
whispering,
as we meet: to walk
to sit to eat to talk,
as if to undisturb the flow
of measured actions,  
determined words.


IV

Patch and Sew

Evening gathers
patch and sew
this woman’s work
bent head
the forearm slightly
raised to hold
a purposeful hand
the needle and its thread
A right leg rests its knee
on the chair’s soft arm
a left-facing shin
foot-firm to the floor
On her lap the garment
she has worn today
she will wear tomorrow


V

Across the Valley

Across the valley
from end to end
a spread of hills
in clouds’ pale shadows.
Above,
their floating forms
of white, of grey
of dusky charcoal dark.
But look,
the sun peeks through
to fall in strips and squares.
The moorland coloured.

Waves of dry-stone walls,
they rise and dive to guard
the foreground pasture-land
where sheep are loud
and cattle uneasy.
Beyond, a wooded belt.
There, a viaduct’s arch.
Here, a limestone kiln
where her figure stoops
to pick up rusty things
off broken ground.


VI

Wild Flowers

Ah Sweet Briar,
my little Vetchling
from the meadow,
but common as Valerian
in a Lady’s Bedstraw.

Wild as Onion,
Black as Knapweed,
sweet this Meadow Buttercup
its great Burnet a Tufted Vetch.

Oh Hedge a tiny Woundwort,
Hedge along a Bedstraw
Crane's Billed in the meadow
that Ox-Eyed eye-oxed Daisy.


VII

Trainspotting

Figures in the field
they stood expectant.

Placed apart
As guns before a drive,
before the beaters
raised the birds,
four men wait for a train.
One braced against a wall,
camera at the ready.

Out of the still afternoon
a heavy breathing monster
displaced the valley air,
the sounds of bleating sheep,
the twitter tweet of moorland birds.
It appeared just for a moment,
revealed itself entire.

Seven carriages red,
the engine green its tender black,
it crossed the Smardale viaduct,
(as if posing for a photograph)
then disappeared from view.
Nicely spotted.


VIII

At 5.0am

To sit in silence
at this early hour
knowing the inevitability
of my desire
to touch
your waking self
warm from sleep.

It is at once so beautiful,
and yet so difficult:
to put such thoughts aside,
when the paragraph begs completion,
when rhyme and rhythm
seek right resolution.

I pause constantly:
to hold myself close
to your imagined cheek,
lightly-freckled
by yesterday’s
sun and wind.

Orange hazards blink in gloom
Autumn mist in early light,
Traffic cones direct the flow
Attenuators keep it tight.
Through the mist construction looms
A mighty swath comes into sight
A structure massive, incomplete
Sweeps past the Birdcage portal light.

Burrowed deep within the Park
Surmounted by its stark white beams,
The tunnel curves towards the Bridge
To emerge near the Victory screens.
Symmetry in huge largess
Biblical in size and form,
Built by puny hands of flesh
Man inspired, conceived and born.

Columns in the concrete mass
Loom as sentries, side by side,
Level in majestic sweep
Through the tunnel’s corner glide.
Massive beams locked overhead
Cap the roof’s gigantic clasp,
Reinforced by gridlocked steel
Bound within the concrete’s grasp.

Mounds of blue, congealed wet clay
Layered in an old sea bed,
Hauled away from ancient crib
By Fletcher excavators red.
Roaring diesel truck and tray
Loaded overburden high,
Water blasted ***** and span
Keeping highways clean and dry.

Monstrous cranes with hanging rig
Lower weights of ponderous steel,
Gently to the tunnel base
Led by Dogman’s coaxing feel.
Urgency in every move
Hard hats drill with diamond core,
Fixing massive panel slabs
To the looming concrete’s bore.

Well below incoming tide
Pounded by the drenching rain,
Four inch pumps snake to the sump
Ensuring flood control’s maintained.
Foremen bark and keep control
Hard hats share a secret smile,
Safety first for every man
Think before you lift that pile.

Gate girls smile at passers bye
Politely chiding those who stray,
Holding up a halting hand
With trucks inbound in hazards way.
Smoko at the Bowling Club
Murmur of a hundred souls,
Grubby in their hi vis vests
Munching on the caterers rolls.

Morale amongst the working men
Is high because they feel the cause,
A project that is so worthwhile
They KNOW that it  deserves applause.
Traffic roars above it all
Passing in a steady stream,
Brake lights on the viaduct
Cop cars flash and sirens scream.

This project has a consciousness
A Heart, a mind, a soul.
And an inspirational spirit
Which guides us to the goal.
To eliminate the bottleneck
In Auckland's traffic day
And to streamline the system
Of our vehicular motorway.

Politicians snarl right now
Champing at the huge expense,
But by next year’s finish date
Congratulations will commence.
The jewel in the crown they say
Is found within our park of green,
The Victoria Park Tunnel, friend,
Is a true magnificence, to be seen.


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
5 February 2011

The rain lashed tar of Monday morning rush
A Midlands sky of cloudy faces set
In silent fury at this urban crush
Of octane dreams propelled and fuelled with debt
Dacia Duster, works traffic only
Concrete, concrete, concrete, exit ahead
Lane closes in four hundred yards. Lonely
A cone lies knocked over, crucified, dead
Oldbury Viaduct, M5, repairs
Queuing likely, expect delays. Fiat
JC07 GOD... we sat
Unmoving like that for hours, hours
Staring at the railings hung with flowers.

'Inspired' during an Easter time visit.

Everyone is an island,
But everyone is trying to connect the island with the main land through a bridge!
Everyone is trying hard to get the soil to grow!
Thus, everybody is busy building their own viaduct!
They build it,
With their own materials of heart and soul!
But when storms come hearts are split and destabilized,
Some time liquefy in rain water!  And Bridges break down!
Again it is becoming an isolated island!
So, in the race of edifice,
Everyone is searching for material of strongest and vibrant heart,
To build the bridges sturdy and eternal!
But hearts are delicate and soluble to state of affairs of life,
So, it breaks and link fall down, and
Every one becoming island with its own soul!

The time has come to hit the road,and
make some tracks
in shutdown mode.

It's easy to be put upon when you're just one and have no heart to fight,right or wrong it's so long chaps
we've had our laughs and there's no more to come.
I have spun new shoes to fit these feet and now I'm heading off to greet what's in the next face that I meet, I fear the milk of human kindness has run dry,its teats are shy,my lips are parched.

You'll find me underneath the arch that runs beneath the viaduct,****** or not,shutdown's what I do and one day you might do it too,'til then when Big Ben strikes the hour at nine and I dine alone chilled to the bone and when you find me,be kind because I carry a weighty load which make more tracks in the shutdown mode.

His name was Jim
He was a dandy
Her name was Kim
Trancendence candy
Held each other tight
Cherished is the night
Homeless, not loveless


© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.

In Sicily Aeschylus agonized on the island of Gela, like an isthmus between two seas that led him to the God Dyonisius through the Hadic Speleothemes, here this god entered the skené of Euripides and Sophocles, under the support of Dyonisius and the father of Aeschylus; Euphorion of Eleusis. He was on his way to Gela when he was rammed and crossed after the temporary repercussion of Offensive on Salamis, meeting Wonthelimar and Vlad Strigoi as they prepared to head to the Cavern of Dionysius. The most unlikely of this parallel sequence stems from Dyonisius's spell of necromancy as he summons alongside them to lead them into the cavern. The scene or triple skené became feasible when Vernarth bilocated three times next to them scalding the campfire from the edges of the Profitis as if it were a lantern that flashed micro lightning, to reconvert the bilocated lights of Syracuse with those of Patmos simultaneously. Vernarth rises from the northeast edge of the Koilon of his theater and leads them with his incantation:

First Scene Dyonisius: “he was coming with his car of Thespis, with sparks from Catania, where he noticed that ***** of lightning appeared flying from the ether, and above them a triple frequency that acclaimed joining Wonthelimar and Vlad Strigoi. In concomitance, he rushes to Syracuse traveling at high speed, rising to the third light of the Menorah from left to right, in such a way that his horses squandered the fire on the golden grass.

Second scene Aeschylus: “he was going to Gela, brooding along the way with his reckless time, freezing the will that called him at that moment, and that yelled at him like Anthropokairós, deriving from his remaining spiritual memory, which warned him to do what made in a dreadful deleterious past. Avoiding him with their stiff arms when the ***** of lightning, they fidgeted to enter the scene of Salamis where he dealt with the Achaemenides.

Third Scene Wonthelimar: “he was with Vlad Strigoi, and this one next to him smelled of sulfur that he experienced with the closeness of some of them, who had already had a deal of caste and exultant existential drama. They were swiftly crewing with their transient elytra when they received the ***** of lightning, which were energetically prodding them"

Aeschylus was going to agonize Gela, after not doing it in Salamis, with some disappointment and supposedly having revealed the Mysteries of Eleusis, but he was not! Eagerly spurred on suddenly shook him when Vernarth bilocated appeared before him, broadcasting episodes of the sixteenth century, concisely from Fray Luis de León, regarding the Song of Songs who appeared from the ether passing through the triumvirate of lightning bolts that had him blown Vernarth, to show him his epitome of quantum parapsychology. When both were subjected, Aeschylus briefly understood that he perceived the judgment of Fray Luis de León by the Inquisition, for his ****** and philosophical expressions of character with his elevated prose. The dramatic anthology of Aeschylus, directed him to his Necropolis of Pachyderm in Gela, by abandoning the pairs of legs and arms of him. In the meantime from the agon or contest, Dyonisius snatched his Kairos as a singular man, and commanded the Hadic Speleothemes from where Wonthelimar came, to refer to him, just as he did with Euripides and Sophocles with the everlasting Frogs of Aristophanes. The parallel sequence of the trilogy characterized in Aeschylus continues, to end in the skené or culminating period, to receive on his head the inspiration of Vernarth's ball of lightning, already united with the three parts of him! The three scenes are combined with the interference and parallelism of Dyonisius, who exhorts them to go with them through the Speleothemes, thus making sure to save their celebrant souls and their anti-myths, who would unravel with this satirical drama with the batrachians, as a Vernarth's invitation to shake the destiny of each one of them towards a caustic reality, which breaks the man close to his agony, and in his proportionate death revealed as an existential tragedy close to the Anthropokairós omega. Therefore the destinies were stressed in three scenes that would be coupled with that of the axis of support of a death not specified by several that would continue with the same perenniality, in the company of Euripides and Sophocles, with the ballads of the batrachians of Dyonisius to enchant them as subterfuge and didactics, so that once they are captured in the gallery of the cave, and that they would be convinced with greater persuasion. The three scenes were made as one under the precept of Dyonisius, to adhere to them in the next before the Spinalonga parapsychology room, where three scenes would make tragedies and fables, which would follow from the throne of the stands with thousands of deceased who wanted to hear and re-listen from the underworld of the Speleothemes, going towards the Viaduct of Patmos.

Waste (wāst) v.     (1.) To use, consume, spend, or expend thoughtlessly or carelessly:    For hours on end we laid waste beneath the plastered moon. Our hands mimicked the stars weaved between a silked sky. The grass imprinting tallies into our back.      
(2.) To cause to lose energy, strength, or vigor; exhaust, tire, or enfeeble:  The tar wasted your lungs. It was the nicotine talking. We could never have a safe argument and now you are telling me that I am too much of a nice guy. Nicotine is the crutch between the crunch in the cracks that pry through the truth.      (3.)To fail to take advantage of or use for profit; lose: You wasted an opportunity to be with me. You are missing the reverberation of our laughs under the viaduct, and the tickle attacks when we played hide and seek.    (4.) a. To destroy completely. b. Slang. To ****; ******. The cigarettes wasted our relationship. My eyes couldn't take the second hand jaundice, being the second pair of wells you flipped your wishes into, this second pairs of eyes that understood you. Now they draw blank when they see you.     (5.) Garbage; trash. You had the audacity to keep your lips coiled to the cigarettes, than throw them in the waste basket. Countless weeks of me having to take them off your counter, from inside your purse, your backpack, I chose to become your waste basket. I carried your four year burden in my pockets. (6.) Regarded or discarded as worthless or useless. You were a waste of my time, a waste of my feelings, wasted space in my life.

Monday morning murk,
rush-hour standstill.
Faces.
Solemn miles of traffic.
Dacia Duster, Qashqai Two.
Works Traffic Merging Ahead.
Cones.
Toppled idols
of the new religion.

For fity miles
she rode on a  rare Steed
to show her endeavour,
never saying whether should would dither -
a hearth must be prepared with care
a heart's evermore if it is sincere,
dreaming of the future under a
Trestle viaduct,
she recalled tact,
your typical daughter
with thin waist
and flaxen hair
could be changed by the World,
instead she had the courage of choice,
to embroider a kindred yarn
and perform revival folk
to kinder Columbine kingdoms,
perchance early to rise?

is in the spaces between the words where the unspoken
can make imagination leap oceans in a single bound

let us be a tad explanatory,  
the accuracy of hi)s(tory,
starts with the evolution
of his revolutions,
his tree rings are
2.481481 multiple
of some of you
and this vantage point
just is,
neither dis or ad

my window fire escape is in NYC,
mon arrondissement est Le UES,
my-e-scapes, my e-names,
multiplying and manifold,
all revealed and revered,
even the state sanctioned one,
the nomination law-approved,
all are in the consciousness and the conscience
flowing in his thousands of writings,
all delivered
by the ancient viaduct roman
in the cerebrum of him
by the whim,
by the command of muses,
by their voices becoming,
now residents in his head

those tasking demanding, never satisfied,
poetry gods/goddesses remade the human,
plucked him to be a science project,
began by teaching him observation,
the meaning of colors
in comprehending feelings
by employing the senses five,
working as a team coordinated,
a team of superheroes
(POW! BAM! SPLAT!)
armed with the powers of
kindness, modesty and a
love for the sensuous,
that speaks volumes sensual
with no words, and the sound
on low
and together then, extract
the elements and plaster all into story
with the truth and fantasy interspersed

all his accumulated lovers,
future current and past,
look over his shoulders
as poet composes
suggesting constructs and textual emendations,
this's and that's, and don't forgets,
and some,
what does it matters...to this unusual text

fear nothing, except restraint, make knowing distance,
a precarious safety net, at best, no, not your best friend,
safety comes from the roots of who you are,
and so simple, there they are, written out for you,
in a thousand plus easy to follow steps

it is not distance that's the issue
reminds me, Herr Professor Albert,
(who takes the fall colors thru his eyes)
but time, yours, his, the chiefest enemy,
unless you can bend its curve
in shared poetry intelligible and cloudy
<•>
4:14am

From a vessel of mercury stained with Cinnabar, they brought next to Vas Auric, an ocher figure from the environment posed by the sarcophagus, to the detriment of the meats that resisted the Larnax or ash sarcophagus that came in other larnakes from Persia. The colors were specified in nature from a new terrarum upon the arrival of this prehistoric substance, in Neolithic pride, as it shone in the ceramic that they had been climbing from the hill of Patmos. Post-mortem, they were aedicules that were already established with pecuniary obols, to coin the solidity of the disputed and risky lands of the Camels; Gaugamela in the ambages of the bodies that must have remained standing, but with their staunch resistance they ended up colored by the ocher of cinnabar, and the rust of camels looking for traces of the mercury trickery that snatched them in the fleshless tombs, in thick and vivid sight of the Ghosts of Shiraz, who mostly accompanied him from their stagnant warehouses in Jaffa. In the northern Governorate of Zefian, the bodies from the Tel Gomel siege, in particular the Cinnabar embalming funeral company and mobile, came alongside Wonthelimar as pieces of Lord Hades' grave goods, mutilating the diaphragm with little light than in any eye that could observe, binding to HgS sulfur; Cinnabar that was already decanting from the last reduced specimen in the Hellenika Necropolis, Kímolos. Being ocher that glowed, and was complemented by the hyper chlorinated red blood cells with the Aldehyde, to micro-inseminate in mischief from the sketches of the Infant from Kalymnos Raeder, which appeared in some masonry sketches in harmonious earthy alchemy, removing the Larnax packages that they brought the ashes of Alexander the Great, and in others the anatomical of the others that were only simulated, since they could never reunite their symbolic bodies of osteology, which was diagnosed before all along with the Larnax of the Emperor that would be revived by the Vas Auric.

From the Hellenika necropolis in Kimolos, the spectrographies of the sarcofaghus of the fallen in Tel Gomel were indicated, there were five thousand Macedonians who were transmigrated from the Lepidoptera sarcophagus that was injected by the psyche that covered them from the fifth house of the Necropolis, or the “V” courtyard (fifth sarcophagus) of Hellenika, the favorite place of her Erichthonius or fetish serpent who was her consort of Athenea. Here the chemical elements of Prometheus crossing all the ages of time, and the age that oxygenated him in its chains in support of the Neolithic, were represented. Vernarth's Zefian computer brought sodium, magnesium and aluminum, Borker silicon, phosphorus and chlorine, Leiak Calcium, iron, and Potassium and finally Kaitelka throwing graphitic carbon through space. The chemical shadows of Hellenika's fifth courtyard varied them with ultra-trace of Labrys or double-edged axes swinging on the pendular in front of Prometheus as the savior of man, and the abstract demiurge of Hellenika's philosophy. The red blood cells with their links stained the ink of Aeschylus of ruddy color, and of an Oceanid orange hue like a glanders viaduct that turned iron towards the narthex or transmigration portico of Helleniká on the way to Patmos, to finally transport the mercurial bodies of the five thousand, totally covered with sulfur cinnabar in all its bone structure. The scapulae of some Hypapists had eagle claws that exported the sacrum of another in one claw, agglutinating into little crows that grappled with the jambs of cubes and humerus in the hemipelvis of the one who avoided it? But it lay split in two, almost pointing with its index a versicular of the Hebrew Vulgate. Some femurs of some Hoplites histrionized in the spectrogram and iris of Zefian who analyzed them, and who ventured the right ulna of a Macedonian to Tartarus, an undamaged Hetairoi as acrostic white bleeding from a distal epiphysis that was seen to be crowded with red blood cells, in order of Zefian and the grace of the serpent Eriction, for temporary sedimented colorations, and then to is taken to the zygomatic where a flabby Leonatus had embedded itself in the bronze, as a temporary fauna in the left, while Athenea relieved them after the post-exhumation.

Zefian with sodium, magnesium, and aluminum ritualized raising them in each of the morbid dances, but relieving the stains in each of the affected areas, with a pinch of Mashiach Cinnabar, for the post-mortem effect that was coming in the galloping efflorations of the Nótos de Borker, which bore a replica of a diadem of the skull in perforation of its forehead with the “V” mark, ibid, Athenea being a favorite and born from the forehead of Zeus. This rubric was made on most of the bodies that were sewn with the hides of raptors that protected them until it was time to exhume them with the basal chlorination of Cinnabar and Antiphon Benedictus.

The surface of the Helleniká solid was made up of lavish kinetics, and nuclei to react in hydrogen sulfide, in ionized particles of greater growth to the development of a mythical embryonic and updated, in Promethean neo-policies of the transcendental size of distemperance, which rose in carts of mass photons, by the Heracleian ultra theater trying to emancipate a concentric character in the tragic proscenium, and of an antagonistic whole as an actor of institutionalization of the surviving scenic works, flagellating images that are not of his intentions, nor by whom erected them or by whoever takes them to the ultra gothic scene, or of demigods who save man from his siege in contemporary total disappearance, subjugated to the enslavement of a utopia, and not of the seasonality of Gods made men, with policies, made in the cookbook measure of tasteless soups in invisible realms.

The formulas and equations were re-coined in the bones and columns that are erected by the dynamics of human demand, which revives him on pilot scales that wander unchanged from the Theater of the Epidaurus, and in the memory appendix that is subtracted from the West: Dyticá (Twilight of Leiak), a species of Prometheus of the Forests, but this time not stinging any sip of liquids with entomology, and Lepidoptera of Gethsemane in flocks that come to clean the scabs of the heroes, who are only capable of resisting such effusion of subtle prophylaxis, in this neo-Ambrosia Mercurial.

Chapter X
Etréstles appears from Lepanto

From Lepanto; Greece. He appeared exhausted with his eyes reddened by the gassed atmosphere that greeted them in Battle. Of whose intraterrestrial castes it was the one that was in his iron spirit and floated in his cape as a gesture of his personality. He arrived cracking the ****** soils of Tel Gómel, when he arrived ... he was assaulted by a soldier who asked for mercy to extend his bad fortune.

Falangist: With his helmet in his hands and the Dorus on his cloak on the ground tells him; every single thing I tried the double edge of my sword stained him. The top sheet notified me that my family in Kalidona was in a state of irregularity, since my two older children were called to serve in the militias. And the second edge of my lower Dorus I bow to the meanest preciousness of that of observing with a good spirit to cooperate, now with the callousness of my soul that overcomes it exploiting and dragging my wife as easy spoil. I know that my descendants were buried under the effect of the cataclysm of Pompeii in the future. All will emigrate and then flee when they are devastated and the unwelcome comrades return to reintegrate into the Santa Mary festival. The patron saint who consoled me, but I prepare myself for the resistance of such bad fortune, that one day I would drop with my crops in the culture of peasant angels in fruits and devotions. I sobbed and sobbed rubbing my animals through my empty eyes day and night. They did it next to me, with the singularity of not affecting me, they went to the nearest stream to sob for me so that I would not be affected by the fatal annihilation.

Etréstles, moved by the tribulations of the Infant of the Phalanx, fell to the ground imposing nonexistence, after his words implored Hera for her benevolence to sponsor him as a parasite and reside with her. Thus they would be immune to progressive lives under the influence of the primary and secondary sharp edges of the Phalanx weapons. Hera's eyes sparkled as the Phalangist's soul entered the Goddess. They were not vanities, but for the advent of his vanity on the Acropolis thus reaching him.

Etréstles reacts and says to the Falangist: You will be able to leave earlier, my horse Kanti stretched him out of one of his legs by neighing in proportion, so from the suffix of Hera he took the comparative stelae of a hunter and manifested to the hunter; You are already a Phalangist, ride your steed, Sail to your lands in search of your wife and children and feel magnanimous, before the phalanx officer's frivolous arrogant whistle makes you feel unconsciously smaller.

Etréstles says goodbye and tells the Phalangist to get ready for the logistical combat letter promptly. After all the event, you will be reported back by Hera's command to your lands, to release the grasses by the vertical odes of the belly of the wet, presiding zephyr, and the germination of the warm aromas of your holy land in Kalidona next to your ***** family.

Etréstles de Kalavrita, cheers on the head, both temples and lavishly kisses the Tupe between Kanti's ears. The hyper beautiful sorrel eliminated sinuous vehemence gleaming through its nostrils, it jumped down the cliffs and ravines. They arrive in a rush to Tel Gomel, and appear before Alexander III the Great and Vernarth of the Reign of Sudpichi. They were fiddling with paragraphs of the strategy before meeting with the fifteenth commanders to review the Falangists, and outline a logistics letter.

Adhesion of love Cattle says: "Think of me, ...", stemming from the indefinite discomfort and outbursts of the undecided. The archaic traditions are only for kingdoms to conquer, to sleep like a peaceful dream that sleeps together with us. Do you know how many wars I have had to endure not seeing any gesture of the undaunted muscles of everyone's face and the Whole ..., if they knew?
Replica of Lost love adhesion: from hidden science I will unravel and unravel all my trades to recover what is lost. The magic was lost between my fingers due to its excessive impetuousness, for handling alchemical essences. After this had happened, any mirage or outburst of immortality vanished from all the cardinal points. In the city of Naupacto or Lepanto, it formerly had the best port on the northern coast of the Gulf of Corinth, whose entrance it dominated. The origin of its name is due to the fact that a heracid had obtained a fleet in this place before crossing the Peloponnese, or because it had been a place used to build ships, so Naupacto would have originated from naûs (ship) and pēgnymi (build). “City of Ships, from where Etréstles de Kalavrita came from the aggressive comparisons of the masked love lost and won. Palafrén, that mounts the destinations of the city with his eternal beloved Drestnia.

During the War of the Satagenisis and Deidagenesis, along with the Heosphoros and the Man of Valplacci with their heart Infarcted they continued to prostrate Lucifer., They refluxed with the wars of the Peloponnese, which was the headquarters of the Athenian fleet in western Greece. The Athenian fleet, led by Admiral Phormio, defeated the Lacedaemonians at Naupacto (Koumeterium Messolonghi, Ch. 45 - Palibrio USA).

From here the austere visions of the Charioteer, the genitals of the animal kingdom, and of the exiled human species, flew over all roofs. With his lasciviousness ambushing the females with his ******* pretension, he started towards his senses in his servitude.
When they approached the province of Nafpaktia, the Nome of Aitoloakarnania, the weightless musks that spread and crushed souls, who do not die with breathlessness or halite that extinguishes it submissive. This is how it could provoke some heartbreak and take it to the underworld of Hades. The castes of gods and semi-gods will free him from his chains and the furious Xenon and Lithium gases. Gasifications that will sneak down the drains spaces where no sword my spear will cross the atmosphere of Gaugamela. Only Vernarth out there has to be channeled through the unscathed pavilions of the immaculate back room of his heroic stock. Without any undulating or blatant blade cutting his sanctified and pure muscles acquired in the aforementioned sessions in the Bumodos with the drugs and potions of Medea.

Ellipsis in the Castle of Horcondising:
His mother Luccica were looking out the stained glass window of his main windowed pavilion. Through her she saw how her sons Vernarth and Etréstles met with the great General, to unravel the mysteries of the immaculate and intact pavilions of Vernarth where she commanded and nothing caused her any injury, neither by the edge of manipulated steel points nor by all the hands wrestling with a transfigured fate change.

Luccica says: Dear shoots. The last night of Solstice I couldn't sleep well. The forest of forests woke me up and I couldn't count its fallen leaves. What obedience to my expatriate will, to liquidate them I would gain strength to the intruder fatigue? I know that when I close my eyes I will dream of you. Hold on to the carnival close to the movements that are indescribable but visible. I look at the acacia trees that do not cause injuries to my night eyes, but they cut the necks of themselves like a sieve to admire them in the pantheon of Morpheus.

I will not move my arms to unsettle any vibrations that hinder my fusion with you, except on the vehicles that oscillate from the War to Peace. I move my feeling through my own numb hand of the uncertain living shadow of Luccica, your mother more than yours, forever presence of the dominance of the absence of my desires. All the others who are undaunted, I will mislead them from my national indulgences, which dispossess my ignoble body by weaving and embroidering here in the linen fibers. Evil beyond the stained glass window I saw abstracted, as the swords and spears misguided wielded each other, as if wanting to slice the air to pierce the curtain that divides reality with sub reality. Prisoners of a post-battle that would come to reopen the curtains on the sub reality of the fleeting children of Luccica, of the naive and dying curtains not yet stained with urgent blood in the unpoured vessels.

Son Etréstles Madalena arrived today from Florence; she arrived tired and very sleepy. I think he will sleep until you come back waiting for you! Arrival with some sisters sent by their mother Catarina de Pazzi, directly from the Chiesa di San Giovannino dei Cavalieri. Here long hours she told us without warning the news of her adventure until we reached Sudpichi to the Reign of Horcondising. Undoubtedly I passed the Apennines before crossing the gory viaduct, it has brought you an immolated Cross from right there. Then from Genoa I sail the seas to Valparaíso, brought directly by the merchant ship that came from Helmsman Strigoi, Vlad Tepes himself. On the surface, the float arrived without interruption or ceaselessly, as it had to be appreciated and done in the vicinity of the Mandragora, before arriving at the horcondising.

For you Vernarth, I know that you enjoy the company of Walekiria, who has surrounded you with the divine verb. That of the yellow grasses that walk along the yellow paths, none will be more path than herself. I will be with you very closely, as well as I will see it and you will revive in Gaugamela.

Hades says: with a human conscience I would like to alleviate the weight that breaks the bottom of the ships that invade foreign lands. But my origin sentences the soft abandonment of the labyrinths of thought and reason. For this I leave my punishments to the one who here with reason let his ideological tendency inhale perpetuate itself in Gaugamela without being supervised by my fury, overshadowing my administration of those who should not live or die in the ancient song, who sleep and sleep, but who my Dark prayer does not distract you.

To be continued / under editing

While transforming his aesthetic liberty
into narcissism
he gambles with expressions
Turning the locutions of credos into beauty of tenets
trying to find amorous melody of life
he always lost in lushly thoughts
recreating a brazen space for new celestial cities
he is blissfully poetic.
He is a bloke compelled to dream on
Harbouring hope, conceiving the ambition
Delivers the ultimate…
Even at the tragic ******* release
He is still a Poet.

Being Utopian is his
second nature
forgetting
the cultured bites of
trauma in dogmatic ethics
He assuredly tried weaving
a carpet of viaduct
between the actuality and contentment
Yet, every time failed to
realize the power of reality
bouncing him back from his Felicia
After all he is a poet.

Tears form Swarms in the Cavity of my Gut like little insects,
Playing house where you used to be.
And Underneath the viaduct
Where my dreams camp out with book bags
Jammed full of inexorable fates
Strapped to their crippled backs,
You prey and gather a stockpile of encyclopedias
About loss and what comes after
Aware of your hands, I've always been
How they complement your intentions
Picking pits into delusions like nervous tics
Knowing I'll always beg for more

A rock . . .
well really the brow of a rock . . .
its heart lay deep and hidden,
but when I lay my cheek against it
in the heat of the summer it cooled
and I could feel the great primeval thump of its heart
comforting me, when nothing else was understood.

I clutched this great rock,
my only constant in a life of changes,
while the earth itself, with me holding on tight,
flew at increasingly careless speeds
throughout my teenage years.

Beneath the arched viaduct it squatted
uncomplaining of the shafts of steel
and the weight of the stone it carried;
my teenage weight, of little importance.
It was always there when I came,
in dream, or even reality
taking the time to be calm and listen
as I told it of my hurts and young confusions.

One Summer, I foreswore all others
and promised it my heart,
if it would only turn it to stone,
and though the Rock it listened,
I knew the answer without us having to speak;
I was being selfish
and it would have given all of its
great and brooding strength
to feel, just a little, of my pain.

                                                      ©Copyright Niall OConnor 2012/2014

A weizaskid ax me what I mean,

I say, you know,
what I mean.

You always wishtto go my way stretched out,
expanded,
as a bubble to be in, all ways, as in nine
more than you imagine,
I guarantee.

-- war was a bad idea.
-- corrected it at the finger print of intention
woven into the complexity

code-wize and wiring wize and interpretation
wize domain of all the tells,
signals heart and brain call true,
the health of my countenance, word spikes true
needed to play the game honestly,

sharp, intentionally, prickly oblesky thingy do
symbols seen in places related to DC
ideo game eatery franchisees
owned in a golden archetype,
rock candy mountain
- pop -
poke a point into a slit anticipating just
a wave,

we made a ripple if you smile, non one else need
gno unless
you imagine they al- stretcheit- all read
y'know
y known now is deeper than eve imagined
when she saw she knew everything about nothing,

tricked, ******, been guiled, guilty, you know,

this would really help Atum get his kuriosity collection
performing useful
suggestions for more good than we knew.

We, in Eve's Ish-aww mind, mitomom of us all, we
the survivors of the most recent
common gene pool reduction event.

We share the plan that forms the batteries we
use,
and reuse and restore and replace,

at a maddening pace, thus the commonsense
allocation of most awareness to
soul or spirit, consci used autopoeisish awwtyahll know
-- the y must be evil beings who have power to fuggup ever
and you know this

how?
We can imagine no reason to just allow war to ify as a proud
child takes credit for burps and farts
- we won, cut the **** about being offended, be good
- or die a miserable loser being 1950's mean.

-- eh - where's the dichotomy, is the y's no reason to form a duality of
opposing forces,
honest'godas I write, it thunders over Long Valley Mountain.

I realize you must have read this far and I am home again.

Standing under the viaduct at Exit 45, I-8 East.

And it feels like 2020-real happened.
And it is cooler than it was
And
I wonder if meandering old men mean peace
in the valley and my idea of the long
valley,
you know, the one you think you gotta walk,
even if you don't wish to,
even if you wishtnot to,

you transverse it from one end to the other,
one direction flow, like 1-d DNA,
unmazing engineering on par with the intention
displayed in the hook of heart field and mind fields,

genius, knock-knock jokes are a natural, deploy them

who is there, let them ask?
Thunder in the mountains in August.
This is totally good mohkus, my friends.

At this point. All is well enough all we can pay sharp
focused, non default scatter brain meandering old
white head, my my my myelinated
brain allows a thought to age,
as bourbon in charred oak,

the longer the systems have been on ever after
time when time shall,
not will, I see, shall
I say, be no more. Null set was imagined for this moment
to arrive. Selah.

i bought a chevy impala station wagon
off the fire chief of hackensack
it was safety yellow and glowed in the dark
had a ball on top but the chief took it with him
still a switch for it on the dashboard
way cool
until the master cylinder snapped
on my way down a steep viaduct
with my two kids in back
no brakes all the way down
splashing into a busy intersection
at the bottom of the hill
sure wish i’d had that siren

cooler still was the car before
bought for one dollar from my uncle
who’d inherited it from his oddball best bud
a scientist/author of a popular cosmology of the universe
it was a 1973 gold dodge coronet
the name conjures ancient cop shows
a huge sporty firebreathing beast
eight mighty pistons and an oil leak
i drove it for two years
until the vital fluids gushing out like the mississippi
forced me to abandon ship

the greasy kid across the street found a buyer
we waited for him one saturday morning
around the corner sailed the identical car
same color gold, same year 1973
couldn’t have shocked me more if two statues of liberty
came crashing into each other in hudson bay
the four cuban dudes driving up were thrilled
cannibalism in their eyes
my car was stripped for parts as they disappeared

now i have a new minivan and ball-busting car payments
nobody gets cooler as they get older

Gods of Horcondising

Previously Vernarth takes his head resting on the ceramic that supported him between the Hydor photo duct, rather than approaching his hand to the Klismós that Saint John the Evangelist had given him when he passed through Ephesus. In such a way that when he makes the first impulse to get up from the chair he was already beginning to leave the conventional Universe for the first time, then when he sits down again in the chair inaugurating the crystalline body that was looming over himself, he continues to be the Duoverse as if outside the Klismós with its curved legs resembling supporting pilasters of the Megaron diverging to the conical ones that projected concavely supporting the hollowness of its pectoral, which was already transparent like its Invisible Eclectic Portal. In this meanwhile he gets up again holding onto the Mashiach who came to take him in his arms and place him in the klismoi that interpreted the elevation of Hellenism to the Greater Heavens and the Itheoi of the Duoverse; that is, the spiritual deities of Vernarth in the classification of the starting rank and projection of the abandonment of the Golden Himation. In such a way that the Astragalus was integrated; his floral company that rooted in his hands and roots that cooperatively took root in those of Kashmar. Thus, Vernarth with the Ibic Rings would begin to syncretize the quantum and its hyper-accelerated mobilization of physics, and sub-atomic particulars that would later unleash from Alef to Tav to Astragalus and Aionius, beginning his omnipotence.

The sidereal distance began to unlink towards the Calypso air that was twinned with large portions of the sea in the same enamel, making Patmos the union of the speed of reacting in a chain with valleys of the Dodecanese with the Transversal Valleys of Sudpichi unifying Vernarth with Apollo, Smintheus and Befos; that is to say, three sketches of Apollo himself for the theological genealogy chart of the deity Scarabaeidae with species that multiplied together with Vernarth to become the metalloid Azophar, as the main guideline from the knowable to the unknowable, being Apollo the same in the corporality of Vernarth previously rising to the iridescence of Mashiach.

Astragalus: His primary Itheoi or theological picture would be composed and forming part of his feet and the environment of his ex-voto to take to all the summits of the world in the essence and the gift of eternal life represented by the root of the madrigal curdled by his feet, with the root of the Astragalus in flower when it represented the zero hours by getting rid of his Himation and meeting the Mashiach.

Scarabaeidae: God of the modality of the subsoil of wandering souls destined for the physical and spiritual decline, Scabaraeidae Aphodiinae as subtractors of all the waste of souls that have boiled in malignancy, and the Scabaraeidae Dynastinae as the righteous larvae that rise from the imaginary soil to feed on the roots of the Astragalus and all the flowers and leaves of the Dynastiae. Increased the taxonomic genus of the species that would have to remain in the underworld to aspire to a better one like these Dynastines or Heracles beetles in honor of this hero carrying the peg that Vernarth would place on all the gardens once he was in Aorion, leaving him in a larval state, before being sponsored by Hera's family for the life cycle of the Horco-Olímpico.

Nothofagus: God phoneme-photon of divine mass light to build the Áullos Kósmos. From here the purification will rise in synchrony through the final growth medron of the Ibix of Wonthelimar, to the millimetric assembly shoulder of the square meters that will illustrate the Acrotera of the Megaron, and the Iridescent Nimbus that percussed between the Áullos Kósmos and the Vas Auric ” in total synchrony with Patmos, at the same level of luminosity and growth revelation of the Scabaraeidae Dynastiae to transform inert matter into another fertile one compared to Poseidon.

Lepidoptera: Like the sixth piece of crowns of Kafersesuh bringing the fertilizations of the Lepidoptera in the Ibico Ring 6, for the central stage of investiture under the shadows of Hellenika and Theoskepasti, where everything will be endowed with the greater Ibix called Wonthelimar "that together with Leiak they would be transmuted to Horcondising.

Azofar: This metalloid god and support of the bed will take and bring Vernarth back to navigate through the cosmos towards the fifth element that would contract the universe and the Hyperdisis galaxy, to extol him from the neurological hyper brain of the Duoversal of Vernarth twinned with the Mashiach, exemplifying duplicity of Apollo as Azofar device of the new interstellar ships beyond all that is knowable.

Ibicus: god of the antlers of Wonthelimar, here they will carry the Oikos or Orphi Gold threads for the Himation and investiture to anoint the body of Vernarth bringing the aerial atmospheres of the Alps and the Ida as a Mycenaean-Valdaine complement, thus they were inaugurating the solemnity and honorability. Here the quadrature will be the perfect Heliacal Rise of the fourth Ibico with the quadrature of Aurion commanded by Leiak in the cardinal Dyticá.

Vélus: from Ibico 4, from where the goddess Artemis will evaporate in the waters for the healing of the tormented in initiatory processes of elevation of the four Arrows of Zefian, to indicate the zenith of the Megaron as if they were surrounding a Castalia for such solemnity.

Spilaiaus: from Ibico 3 in the center of the ministry with chiropterans, and others from the mercurial ambrosia invoking the Cinnabar of Tsambika, having all the protocol of Transylvania and eternity with the waters of the Antiphon Benedictus”. Here is one more bastion of Hades' underworld dressing for the Speleothemes that will take you to the heart of all the dens of the Faith.

Aionius: from Ibico 1 Wonthelimar who brought purity to all who needed him and went to visit in the dark, then he would find the light when he came out of the cave alive” here Kaitelka and Borker, in total harmony with Demeter, Persephone, and Hestia, bringing them from the labyrinths with the rusty chains of Prometheus and Vertnarth wandering through infinity.

Semi  I Theoi

The semi-deities and the greatest memories in the world that would derive the denotation that would reformulate the Apoinandros that would move along the spikes of the didactic Ego or the teaching of the authentic apostles that would crystallize with Zefian, Borker, Leiak, Kaitelka, and Ezpatkul .

Zefian: Reformer of the Universe-Duoverse, possessor of the four Arrows that will illuminate Heaven and all of earthly Greece every time Vernarth circulates linearly through the seas of the Vóreios of the Aegean. Ruled North: Vóreios (Zefian Boreal)

Borker: Demiurge and caretaker of the Duoverse, warden of the Forests of the World and of the Transversal Valleys of Sudpichi. Ruled South: Nótos (Austral de Borker)

Leiak: Omnipresent demiurge, the vague spirit of the docile water dancer who lives on the water with his slimy Chin, his playful back is seen breaking the lines of wells between flesh and silhouettes. Before the First station, first of the three remaining nights before reaching the Joshua de Pétra crater” directed to the West: Dyticá (Ocaso de Leiak)

Kaitelka: Down Whale ruling the Psychic Trisomy of the Duoverse and the seas surrounding Patmos in the Apokálypsis ruled to the East: Aftó (Kaitelka's Equinoctial)

Ezpatkul: Dóntiakul or prominent Augrum or Oro teeth will rotate through the Scarabaeidae demarcating the Vóreios Vóreios throughout the Horcondising region, bilocating it in the Patmos oaks borers, with such frenzy…!, that from there they would draw the strength of the Mapuche winds from the north of the Meli Witran Mapu, beginning with the Pikún-kürüf.


Distinctive Horcondising

Horcondising or Horkondising: mountain massif where the bodies that claim to dwell in the definitive Heaven are consecrated and evaluated, multidimensional transaction of honorable and spiritual acts to continues life in a more astral and subjective plane.
Hyperdisis: Edenic Galaxy for the postulants, the sky of Joshua of Pétra.
Pólemistes Mapu: Knight of Joshua de Pétra, he used to walk barefoot and leave no footprints; and if he left them, they were the traces of Puma, incessantly seeking to reach Patmos.

Theía Trueno: Female Sister of Joshua de Pétra, she is seen walking in the wheat fields and grasses that surround the Kosmous of the only Duoverse.

Humus Sofós: Human beings degraded and feces of the anthropomorphic brete.

Kosmous Zigzag: Super Nova from the Hyperdisis Galaxy.
Adelympia: Female parent of Bernardolipo, master of the Tarot and catechist of all the classrooms of the Mashiaj.

Vátos Cantarina: Subterranean messages between both families of Joshua de Pétra and Bernardolipo.
Viologiki zoí Pichiensus: Entity of low thermal of the Gods of the Forests.

Toíchous Pirkas: Hill ridges similar to asphalted sheepskin hills.
Kryo Aqua: Host and Eucharist of the mountains that run through the estuaries on winter nights.

Vounó: Mountains of blankets or Matakis that fall on Pichiensus lands in the form of rainbows in the Iridescent Nimbus.
Vráchos Talamita: Galactic ship, a dolmen of the Talamita where they do their astral rituals.

Polyagapiménos: Joshua of Pétra's Bungalow, Incense of God, Child's Feet in the Kafersesuh, Mariah's Contemplation to Guide Everlasting Lives.

Thor's Stella Maris Metrica: Vas Auric who guides the Norse stars commanded by the Norse Deity.

Ekató Taurus: Medium troop of a hundred bull men in charge of stirring up the storms of the deluge of the Apokálypsis.

Karrenios Margaritódis Petrels: Massive defenders of the near sky in Kala Nera, masters of unfortunate land but of high media cordiality with the last fragmented souls.

Horkón: Cuirassier of the skit for non-believers, rosary for believers

Orphilía: Sylph that gives brightness to the dim stars every night.
Australdisis: Intermediate relay galaxy before aspiring to the Coelum.

Hyperdisis: Horcondising material galaxy towards the Duoverse.
Albalalhue: Cacique frightening the Demons of Horcondising and Patmos, recoverer of the Gold of Tychaios.

Talamies: Landowners of the Esteros de Fýlla or Hojas de Talami and Patmos.

Negeshon: Personality or Prosopon of the Mapu God of rancid hierarchy, director of the ears of the scared and nested Gerakis.

Diákolus: Morbid God and creators of theological hesitation in the slaves of evil.

Ramathís: Theologian who strengthens the vibrations of Lord Joshua.

Alcanphor Xórki : Macro transport of the spiritual masses to be transported at the end of the spell of the Himation Ceremony.

Wuaso: Great teacher of great proportions, they are seen at night surpassing all the Toíchous. He is commonly seen with a bullfighting pole in his left hand.

Pooja Nykterinós: Bandurria that travels through entire towns at night when they have been threatened by the evil pestilence of the cold.

Sudpichiana: Region populated by specters of archaeological lands, it is the farthest of all and the most spectral of the Horcondising.

Analpha Alpha: first illiterate in the Sudpichian land and the wisest in the refining of the Forest lineage of him.
Sacraverbial: Edenic lyricism that dances through the heights of Joshua's meditation in dialogue with Hashem.

Getsemani  Sudpichiano: Set of sacred trees of the Sudpichiano sector.

Jesuslight: representation of Krishna, Light of the shadows of the shepherd with his music of birdseed and sonorous of the lyrical flute. He sings and enchants when night falls he is filled with green colors, and when the night dissolves into the beginning of the day he is filled with solar colors.

Pirkas: delimiting the arteries of the highlander.
Slimy Herb: Lamprey's stomach herb, acid, and complement to Ha-Shatan.

Zenón: ox of the good harvest and the sunny day. Strong as a storm of Love of a healthy animal.

I Eikosi: the twenty fluffy felines agglutinated in the dark hell of Horkondising..

Konófora Analfagamas: high genetic range forest. Their voices are heard by the jet-black voices of the night.

Protograss : Mineral of the great universal heart that turns into mold.
Trisolado odogéfyra: access routes to the great Energy of the Duoverse viaduct.
Pre kalésete: Anticipatory doors before opening the soul that has to enter the Universe of Saint John the Apostle.

Ramireaux Astós: Joshua de Pétra's hemiplegic recorder, Selector of those who crossed the preferential threshold.
Mass Parameters: Kafersesuh of Light that adds to that of Hope and Faith.

Ingratia mol petal: Ultra-fragrant and liquidating molecules of the carcinogenic aureoles of the hollow of the chest of the Lymphoma of Vernarth, purifier of life.

Taking the green walk.

Which ever way you approach
This tunnel of green,
Whether from Yarmouth
And the incoming ferry,
Or nearer the Totland end
The experience was much the same.

Underfoot a mossy path,
Dampened by overhanging trees,
Deep puddles to navigate
And the stinging of nettles
In the bracken filled undergrowth;
Adjacent fields where bulls
Occasionally got out of hand,
Charging sporadically and scaring
The birds.

This route was both our outward
And homewards journey,
Taken on family picnics
To Fort Victoria,
A viaduct of small arcades,
With photographs
Of seafaring men lining walls,
And a cafeteria,
Selling limited produce.

Trips to Yarmouth to shop,
Collecting momentoes
And sticks of peppermint rock,
Allowed for the green walk,
Back to the coziness of a chalet.
We use to sing as we walked
The three miles or so,
I looking for blackberries
To take home for tea.

The only difference of route,
Was that of expectation,
The early day high spirits,
Fresh from sleep,
Looking forward to sandwiches
And perhaps an ice cream.
Returning was more arduous,
Tired feet and lagging behind,
The green road seemed longer,
And the holiday
Another day shorter.

Love Mary **

Jumping off the viaduct
or the aqueduct,
the whole thing's ******
we're jumping anyway.

and when anyway's only
another way to say
this is not another day in
paradise,
just jump.

I'm not advocating
anything, only
putting across a
point of view and those
who do it will do it
anyway, unless we change the way
we look at depression.

suggestions to a samaritan, please,
at PO box ok.

.
                 Foster-Child

               I can remember
            when I was a wee
           lad, wondering, but
           not enquiring, why
            houses were tied
                 to the poles.

              Years later it was
             requested of me to
            answer my unasked
              question when we
               visited the Millau
              Viaduct in France.


For.
Norman Foster.

^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^

crossed over the aqueduct
thought it was a viaduct
and that just shows
how ****** up I am

if
God made a plan for me
it must be hidden in a
library
and how would I look for it?

wait a minute!
oh
I feel like a *****
the Dewey index
is quick
and easy to use.

The bells for nine o-clock
always ring at eight fifty-seven,  I think this is the vicars way of saying something about heaven, but I'm not sure what that could be

Anyway whether the vicar is male or female this premature tolling is a failing on their part

At nine o-clock the train is due to pass across the viaduct which is about five kilometres away and towards the end of each day I sit and wait,

of late it's been coming late but tonight it was on time, not according to the church bells though.

Perhaps if the world spun a bit faster we'd all get there a lot quicker.