I.
The heavens were an infinite expanse of mourning veils,
Untainted by a moon;
Or possibly even by the stars.
The air was frosty,
And hard-hearted,
Gnawing at my flesh.
But yet I simply had to proceed.
I was feeling trapped and helpless,
But yet I saw certainly no other possibility.
I realized I had to pass The Black Bridge,
To seek the blessed springs,
That possess miraculous powers to alleviate
Just about all afflictions, torments and woes -
Which drown human conscience and faith,
Further and further,
Into an abyss,
Deeper and deeper,
Where they are seized by devils.
I had to pass through hell,
To get to heaven.

II.
The Black Bridge was somewhere no soul ever wanders,
Somewhere that has been lost,
Somewhere that has been silenced and suppressed,
Victimised by the murderous evil.
Will the path I have chosen,
Devour me completely and make me lifeless once again?
**** my grandmother,
My only hope in this chaotic world?
Why should I have faith in the cursed tongue,
Of those who have never crossed,
This saintly white yet black bridge?
Maybe, just maybe..
The Black Bridge could possibly lend a hand in my quest,
By keeping me safe and out of harm's way,
Banishing all who embraced sin and depravity.

III.
The wind howled in despair,
And the oceans crashed violently upon the shore,
As a storm began to brew.
I could hear every footstep of mine,
Every anxious beat of my heart,
Every breath I took.
No demons had crossed my path.
A ray of hope flickers in the sky.
I am not the Shade.
I walk on the path of enlightenment.
The tale of The Black Bridge was a lie.
Never have I seen such ignorance or contempt
For somewhere so innocent and kind.
Never shall I make this mistake again.

IV.
The Black Bridge was heaven in disguise of hell -
A disguise blackened by the sin of lies,
And unveiled by the illumination of goodwill.
All that seems dark, dire and deathly,
May not be so bitter after all.
I had to pass through heaven,
To get to heaven.

the internet wasn't originally intended as the playground for the young, who have no reason to convince themselves of a need to either dogmatise proper spelling, or proper diacritical-punctuation... hálo humpty-dumpty! utter that hark like a dragon!

i have something more volatile than atoms
to construct an atom bomb and
cite Oppenheimer -
i have letters as atoms, words as minor
twitches, and language as Samael:
the death-breathing harvesting resurrector...
  i call the film *a beautiful mind
a perfect case of a beautiful propaganda
machine that backfired...
  if that mathematician who died "tragically"
in car-crash was anything to go by
with having his negation of ease hijacked,
exemplified, magnified to scare the public,
then Gabriel must have been a really sweet
soothsayer in Muhammad's ear...
   because someone with that kind of imagination
to conjure up people should have never
worked for the emerging C.I.A. or F.B.I.:
but Walt ******* Disney... to be sure of it:
Bukowski run parallels with the story:
staying drunk: to keep up with the sober-imaginative
collective: i would have done the same...
can you believe i've passed the 50h mark
on not sleeping under a self-imposed
example of what's barely a scratch of the
siberian gulags?
                   can you imagine that i...
simply had a fetish for it? imagine being awake for
over 50 hours... and having a nearing-****
audacity to not fall asleep for a minute?
can you imagine the military rigour of such
an endeavour?
   must have been self-taught and therefore, very
much indie: selling to the highest bidder.
oh please don't take my literal Monday's worth
of vocabulary truthfulness on it:
i'll play truant on it:
   i don't have people-friendly devices to keep
up with gossip, the rule is:
you can only go mad once,
you can play double jeopardy with madness...
    talk going mad a second time...
        i'll talk about recreating carnage park
in essex... you know what's scary about
that horror movie? it happens at high-noon...
there's nothing eerie about the night...
with the night i think the solace of death
and the never-ending and the never-shifting queue
of names, dates, and the ultra sensitive invocations
of faking epitaphs, i mean, inscribing things
on graves the people who "own" the graves
never had the capacity to say, in the first place.
but you know what scared me about
the film carnage park? the first horror movie
based upon Hitchcock "resurrected" -
but it was never about it... there's no close-proximity,
you actually see the culprits face...
   the idea being: humanising the man executing
moral justification by tugging the guillotine
or pushing the switch on the electric chair...
it's all about moral ambiguity,
hence the horror is all about daylight,
daylight representing the quasi-assurance of your
own judgement: and could you do the justice
by bypassing all jurisprudence paperwork?
  daylight is important in this movie...
                 nothing is hidden, nothing is romantic,
because the man in question is a ******,
he's not a torturer... the invocation of agoraphobia
is seminal! no... subliminal! Greeks invented little
fears and allowed them to be wedded for magnification
given that theatre is extinct... little phobias
create big budget exploits...
   but this is a first of exploiting agoraphobia...
       and agoraphobia could only be exploited in
high-noon... when i think of night these days
i think of the j. r. r. tolkien romance novels of
what man once had... adventure...
these days? plain talk? tourism.
                            i never could think it could be done:
but apparently is has been done...
           the ever distant voyeurism is also gone...
how can anyone be voyeuristic in an agoraphobic space?
   you're basically knitting and deforming
a large space into a pixel... there's no sadism either,
no loch ness barrage of torture methods,
only what man employes to capture animals...
   it's militarism: solo...
        the true essence of a renegade:
   antidote to indoctrination...
             exemplified by the fact that no matter what
mask you give the horror, the mundaneness of it
doesn't go away: because it's not hidden,
  the placebo horror scenario -
          we fake hiding from it... horror these days
is medicinised by fantasy... which is the abhorrent
quality of our times: over-assurance...
    our times are too self-servient, too self-assured...
too comfortable... we're championing
arrogance, calling our predecessors incompetent
*******... oil on the flames? maybe...
                       we prefer to imagine dragons than
see actual dragons among us...
                       that's why we seem to begin with
congratulating dinosaurs into having begun
   as abstract spines that the serpents of our times are...
us? to our inheritors? brains in pickle jars.
we have already started the process of pickling ourselves
by extracting as much as we could from our being
and encoding it into artificiality...
        anyone with a global invasion tactic can easily
tap into this "economy"... it's not an encyclopedia...
it's an economised unitary model readied for
exploitation for invasion...
       do i share the film's culprit paranoia?
well... i share his defence of environmental study...
but having provided the most adequate striking-point
             with the utmost drama of cyber-warfare debate
and all counters against ourselves...
            would i choose this maniac over a wall st. yuppy?
          what's that... vomito ***** vs. huey & the news?
if only i was paranoid after having watched this
movie... i'd see it spread akin to the bubonic plague...
but it's apathy that's the bubonic plague:
since it's the most effective safety-mechanism virus...
you get that docile look and try to suddenly say huh?
with surprise, but you get a choking sensation
as if you just swallowed a hazelnut.
      people get these fantasies about other evolutionary
lifeforms... it's not ******* c.i.a. crap about
      everyone working for them being called mr. &
mrs. smith... just so they can dodge bullets
   and buy milk at their local supermarket...
                      without being asked for autographs and
selfies... and have you ever seen a film critique engaging
with a character that says very little, and then
hysterically laugh, with a sense of music akin to
playing front 242's album 06:21:03:11 up evil?
      the true test of horror is music... the visuals can
be Marquis de Sade in Disneyland... and no number
of groans will do it... if the music has
         transylvania's chant of the chastity of anti-sodomites
written all over it... you're in for a knee-jerker...
the diabolical thing about this film is that it
has the double-effect whether it's watched at night
or during the day... the first horror movie that
doesn't invoke close contact between predator and
the prey, along with not even making the night
as something orthodoxically necessary to craft
                                      horror thematism.
well... plus it's a testament to existentialism
in the case of the hostage being "unrightfully"
attested in a crime... the existentialist would
simply conjure up: possible bait / excuse and
unwillful thinking necessary for his own
             victimised self-reflecting-counter-via
the reflex-of-against-self-discriminatory-collective-input...
radical­ised into a reflex puritanism:
   abiding by cohort norms was not enough
                for the cohort minimum:
                    pyramidal elevation was necessary,
               and there was no human explanation
beyond certain matters, all else was justified
in the three digressions: diabolical, angelic or genius:
the madness only came when one claimed to
hear instructions from the devil, or from god,
                        or claimed to be a geniusº.
  disregarding the two fabrics of a self,
the one prior and the one post collective-input
    regarding a doctrine needing a "self", an "individual",
nevertheless: but a pawn.

      ºthere's no articulation of god, which is why
we have no article ascribing a definite or an indefinite
nature toward him, which is why paupers reduce this
argument, debase it to the level of pronouns -
the reason why we cite a genius and the devil...
is because only angels have names...
                              even the fallen ones...
           for they have a misnomer of god, as we have
a misnomer for many a good things.

The shaken earth that so so stood shook against all thats good
people ran and hid for cover fearing life and soon to suffer
burried in a living grave we hope and pray that all will save

our mother earth shows many sides and cares not who is victimised
we bless each day its not our last and hope to see the fresh green grass
my thoughts go out to all thats hurt and pray that
mother ....earth is quiet .....Shhhhhhh!!!

Just a little thought to all the peeps in New Zealand **

I often find myself being Governed by Idiots of moderate Intelligence,
Not Governed, necessarily, in any Political sense;
Governed or Controlled by someone in a position of Power:
Whether within a Company or a Bureaucratic hierarchy; or a Job Description (An"Expert" or "Executor" );
Or someone with physical superiority or gender qualification.
Whatever, whenever, however --> Some people abuse their Authority over others.

Some in Authority have worked hard and diligently to reach their positions -->
My hat off to them: Good Luck and Congratulations;
You obviously deserve the Privileges attached to the Responsibilities.
I have no qualm with such Authorities,
Providing they don't abuse the Social Trust (too much...).
However, there are many People invested with a modicum
Of Authority that so Deceives them;
These People are self-conceited delusionists,
Ever eager to swagger and boast and abuse Their given Trust -->
A modicum of Authority with a modicum of Intelligence
Is tantamount to disaster for someone else.
Unfortunately, that someone is often vulnerable to the Abuse;
Someone given to being Victimised,
Either by Age or Gender or Sexuality;
Or by physical weakness or Belief or Conviction;
Or by circumstance or timing or just plain Bad Luck.

I'll accept most Trivial abuses of Authority -->
Good Luck to them, providing it doesn't impact Me and Mine too greatly.
However, there are those instances of abused Authority
That can destroy People's lives, either directly,
Or attempt to destroy or damage People's Lives,
For No Good Reason, other than They can.
These Abusers of Authority **** ME OFF no end
And They Must Be Stopped, Weeded Out and Put in Their Place.
They have no Consideration for Others
And the damage done can last a Lifetime.
Enough --> F**k You, *******; Pull Your Head In Before You Lose It!

Too often the Abuser is absolved of Responsibility;
Too often They hide behind a smoke-screen of Legitimacy;
Too often These Idiots Abuse because They can get away with it -->
They wear the Uniform;
They have a purview for Order or Peace or Protection.
Don't get Me wrong -
In the Heat of the Moment, Things Happen, Good or Bad,
And Mistakes are Lessons learnt the Hard Way;
Accept Your Responsibility along with your Authority;
Front up and give a True Account
According to the Facts and Your Decision(s) for Action;
Accept that SomeThings are as They are - UnReasonable as They may Be.
Don't Abuse Your  Authority!
TRUST ME --> YOU'LL REGRET IT!

We all know that history repeats itself
And when you finally face defeat, it's hell
The torture one has no choice but to go through
Free seats to a painful ordeal, Row 2

I don't think you have ANY idea how it feels
When your state of mind just surrenders and kneels
It's agonising, you just wanna release what you hold inside
The feeling stays, it will never roll or slide

What's going on is the truth that you can't deny
All I can do now is just rant and cry
And that's what this is, but do not sympathise
There's the indisputable fact that I was victimised

I was taken for an idiot, I guess I just realised.

I wish to be
an infamous serial killer,
that targets love-thirsty men.

I mean,
wouldn't it be interesting
to slash through their hearts,
with sharp, flirtation glances,
or cutting through entrails
to look for stomach butterflies,

what about blowing up their minds,
when I don't respond to convos,
and kneeing them with shrugs
till they beg for attention.

alas,
I was victimised,
before I can even morph into
a cold-blooded murderer myself

you wonder how you can sit there and tell me whats wrong with my life and not get upset. that you can sit there and get upset about me telling you whats wrong with yours. How else does an ego retaliate then to attack what you see as weak in others. The ego wont admit thats what it sees weak in itself. But the ego can grab on to just that to help itself grow. Ever heard of the pain body? that addiction to being victimised. when negative thoughts just grow or grow, and you become sadder, and madder and a little more confused.
The ¨Im so stupid¨the ¨I cant believe I did that¨ the ¨Im no good¨.
It takes a little bit of honesty with the right mix of awareness. When you see it you stop it.
So many people say how difficult it is to change. How hard it is to live in the now. Have you read those spirit guides and teachers books? At first they ****** me off too, ¨All you have to do is live NOW and not NOW, NOW¨
And all I could think of was how.
How the **** do I live now, If it was that simple Id already be ******* doing it. Well you live now by living now. really is that simple.
But Ill go a step further and let you know what Im starting to figure out, again.
Thought.
Just like being aware of those bad ones be aware of those good ones. The things you love and make you happy. Think of those more often, and think of new things. Don´t forget to include yourself. Maybe Ill sound crazy and tell you to write them down and read them every morning when you wake up and every night before you go to bed. Maybe Ill go a step further and tell you to think of all the things you hate  about yourself and write down the opposite and read those everymorning and everynight.
So don´t sit there and tell me whats wrong with me when thats the exact reason you dont want to look at you.
Everyday is what you make it, might as well make it good.

And if your too lazy to even try, then at least remember this when your tired of not trying any more.

Cry no ,cry no,cry no
Illogical and untrained,
Bullied,victimised and left for dead,
Felt so low
How am I expected to grow,
When I didn’t feel the love of man
My spirit is drained,
Night are so long ,
I’d rather smoke and be using my ****,
Leave me be,
I stay in that dark space like the Capricorn,
At least I’m ridden with pain.

The unapologetic ways you show your love,
When you hold my hand, and say im the only one,
But make everyone else feel that way too,
That heartwarming seconds when you say you can't live without me,
but really i can feel you letting me go ,
The unforgivable part when you say im the reason behind your happiness,
but why i feel its just another fairy tale,
then when do all these words actually bring a meaning,
when ever does it,...
But what did i ever do wrong,
Was wanting you to be my one and only a sin,.
Was it so wrong to want something , to invest in soemthing that could be mine forever,
was it so wrong to take a chance and risk it all,
you begged for me,
Once.
upon
a
time.
and that was it,
Now i can see where you stand,
i can also see my value in your eyes,
that grip of hand when you held me on the first day left me abruise i never regret, because i knew it was pure love,
but now the bruises you leave behind are those nothing but heartaches and pain,
those words you say to me I want you , I need you, i LOVE YOU are all replaced with a silent cry of Please leave me alone.,
So i shall,
one day, one day when im strong enough to let go of the one thing i never saw myself doing
but it was never me who wanted to leave,
you pushed me away,slow and bitter, like a tainted metal scraper dragging through the streets of confusion
I wished you never derailed so far like this,
but i wish one more thing,
Please dont victimised another poor girl who adores you,
dont be quick to fall in love and make empty broken promises,
So before i leave, let me run through your hair lines one last time,
let me fiddle with your warm palm,
let me gently lay a kiss on your cheek,
let me sniff your neck, oh its my favorite for one last time,
so maybe,
just maybe you will remember what it felt like loving me,
but if you did change your mind, i wont be giving you that second chance sweetheart,
i shall not regret it once again, tho deep in my heart i can feel a knife slicing me into halves,
But no, i shall not take that road again.
for all that's left is for me to leave.
Something you never found it difficult to do.
Goodbye sweetheart.

I wanted him. Every single part of him, I wanted. To run my finger tips through his ever growing, fluffy beard. To stare in to his more  than blue eyes. To peck his lips more than a thousand times through out the day. To feel his massive bear hands wrap around mine like a strong, protective blanket, making me feel like he had me and was never letting go.

I was born with no patience. No amount of waiting as a child gave me any. Telling me "have some patience " didn't teach me an ounce of it. But knowing him, loving him, wanting him.. it taught  me how to have it. How to get use to that burning ache inside my chest, that rose with me first thing in the morning and stood with me throughout my day, before falling in to a dull slumber at night . I learned to live in the day dreams I had about him. I learned about lust, love and patience . The years past and every single emotion I had for this man grew, so deep I felt my body was not made of blood and DNA, but the roots that kept him so firmly grounded in my life .

13 years passed and still my patience grew. For not once had I had the chance to kiss him or touch him. And frustration was born and continued to grow like a child . And my mind began to speak words I never could quite cope with. And my hands bled from holding on to something I never truly wanted to let go of. But he, he never once held on to the hope I had. He let his die in a blazing fight. He washed his scorched hands in my salty tears and he took them steps to freedom, that I feared he would take.

And with that, the hope died. The lust and love remained. The patience felt wasted and abused, victimised and betrayed. Me, I felt an emptiness only the most broken could experience, for I had just wasted my heart on someone who never truly cared.

Who do we run to when our leader's or do i say rulers no longer care about us
They promised us "CHANGE"
The word "CHANGE" is flying in the air
Our nation is in total ruin
Cost of living is skyrocketing daily
Food is no more affordable nor is it accessible
Our nation is feeling this devastation
Only politicians are well to do
They have forgotten about us
They have forgotten the promise made to us
They never came any close to fulfilling their mandate

When l look at our politicians extravagant lifestyles I asked
What about US
What about all the time they said they are the answers
      In my country ,
Those who care to give or share dont have to give or share
    In my country ,
Those who have to give or share, dont want to give or share

The masses are kept in the mood of despondency
It seems to many that all hopes are lost
Some after having their last meal, they wait for death to come
While some take their lives either by jumping off the bridges or taking a highly concentrated chemical down their throat .

Who will redeem our nation
Who will revive our  economy
Who do we run to when their is no food in the country
Who do we run to when price of fuel is skyrocketing without control
Who do we run to when rent is no more affordable to the masses
Who do we run to when every good thing in our country  can only be accessible to 5% of the country's population

Nigeria is our country
It is not for the politicians to take,
Not for the 5% well to do Nigerians to take
Nigeria is for all of us
We love our country
Thats why we are lamenting
We are tired of being victimised in our own country
It is totally unjust and its affecting everyone either financially,  physically,  menally psychologically or otherwise
... How do we get our dream Nigeria

I've added a line: "Even fish feel while they swish!"  
          Doddery

Am I getting doddery,
Long in the tooth,
Long dead to youth?
Or sensible, experienced, mature,
Deploring times and crimes of culture?

I feel pain, must look away
When I see creatures run, swim, fly
Abused,
Unfelt for,
Victimised.

**** fight, horse race, injured, forced;
Elephant, rhinoceros, without tusk;
Even fish feel while they swish;
Hunted whales or seals or tuna.
Turned into a grilled hamburger
I no longer eat frankfurter…
What the heck is wrong with me?
Who out there sees what I see?
*doddery;
slow and unsteady in movement because of weakness in old age: he's a bit doddery on his legs and doesn't get about much.

Doddery 5.18.2021 Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin

They have provoked her
The giant of Africa
When you stir the bees nest
You must be ready to dance
On the Cobra's tail they stepped
Does actions not beget re-actions?

In a sane society
Where human lives are treasured
Shall we continue like this?
Whose score is it to settle?
Do you want us to count scores?
This is not a battle you can win

Who cursed Africa?
Is this the Africa our fore-fathers fought for?
What really is xenophobia
Brother killing Brothers
But they forgot in a hurry
Are these the people we redeemed?

When a pride of lions are led by a Sheep
This is what you get in return
Disregard for human lives
Until their family is victimised
They enjoy in affluence
While we all suffer in abject penury

I have seen Tigers escape from Buffaloes
They stood as one indivisible entity
To defend their territory
Because enough is enough
We are a people of patience
But don't test the power of Naija

Take the battle to your leaders
Not to fellow Africans
Ask them about their electoral promises
Go to school and get a life
Acquire skills and stay empowered
You've got one more shot at peace

Go back to your history books
Read of our exploits during the  world war
Google our feats in Liberia
Have you heard about the spirit of Biafra?
That spirit still lives
The one that makes us stronger as one

Sheathe your swords of xenophobia
"Naija no dey carry last"
I hear the drums of war already
But until the beagle sounds
You have one last chance at peace
Take it, before it's off the table

To our leaders and politicians
Shame on you all
Our blood means nothing to you
Our brothers are sent to Valhala
The house of the Odin God
Our sisters ***** and maimed
Shame on you and your generation

And to you the ignorant fool
You **** your fellow Africans
Forgetting we are all flesh and blood
We share the same ancestors and lineage
This is not the Africa Madiba fought for
Shame on you all!

My fellow Nigerians
I come to you in peace
Let us explore diplomacy
They want to turn us against ourselves
Will we allow them?
"Biko, were Ndidi..."

My hands quiver as I write
My pen drips blood
I fear for my generation yet unborn
I see a revolution brewing
But let us go back to HIM
HE is the God of instant judgmen

ambitious, surreptitious, the divine, habitats mesic
renounced, from the zenith to the horizon, blue the firmament, the heyday
of the Hohenzollern, hurrying stars challenging the sun, hues
unidentified for imputation, wild actions for massive
vile feasts, surrender although merciless, render mustered
defenders of night a promised glory of summer days, top hamper's
ephemeral shadows, read missals, winds high
nocturnal, sempiternal, temperaments submissive or passive, missives
from the gullible victimised given the defenders of divinity
toil and moil for wondrous eyes of immortals, look
to the future although worthless, perfumes of irascible
Arabia, all charged with statistics mendacious, an affinity
for false repudiation, parasitic Memphis inundated with unlucky
calls tendentious, sunglow tombolos put at risk

can feel
my Soul enters
the victimised body.,

Being the strong woman is being able to stand up
what you know is right
not being the constant  victim of abuse;
walking away from nasty threats,
being able to wear what you want without feeling victimised
in any way I did occasionally loved to wear dresses
but I didn't want the invitation  or excuse for random men
to use this against me so I wore male clothing in town to blend in.  
To be able to remove people that cause nothing but stress;  
saying NO if you don't want to be approached in any way inappropriate; which some cases I never wanted in the first place:
not being able to be communicate or in some cases just being scared to fight as you don't want to go through all the trouble of being in court.  Being autistic I have always found it all too confusing
I don't get all these hidden social cues;  
when I say lets go for a coffee and a chat
I mean just a coffee and chat as a friend
its not in any way a hidden meaning for you to initiate ***.  

Finally as a 31 year old autistic woman I am starting finding my feet:
saying goodbye to all the nasty men in my life who
used and took advantage of me,
its sometimes for the best walk away from the abuse
just to move forward  
be the strong woman you know who you are
the main thing is never to blame yourself
never get resentful or upset
life is about learning from your mistakes
and never do them again.

Selves fragmented
ravaged
frayed
disarrayed
betrayed
misled
tainted
stung
by experiences
that tore the heart
and mind apart
leaving behind images
of pain
chaos
loss
bewilderment
to be borne
by memory
as life shrivels up
and turns at last
into forgotten dust-

very much
the summary lot
of too many
enslaved by time
and victimised
by circumstance--

where's salvation
amidst this gloom?
would hope
have any room
for resurrection?

into the darkest depth
of night-- the stars they weep
the moon sings a dirge
and there's no promise of sleep-

love grows old
and weary
songs of old
lose their melody-

the face of destiny
looks away
without a single pinch
of pity.

The jobs for life people
sit behind glass shields
with inaudible accents
acting like book stops
on shelves for corralled
customers victimised by
government legislated
quagmire designed to
erode demean or halt,
societies rank and file.

Well, I've got a gun,
   cocked, and I'm
   going to doodle
             doo.

Not being vaccinated is a lot different than being opposed to being vaccinated.
Soon as one says “ I refuse to take the jab “ that is the threshold of dissension
crossed, one is then a low caste untouchable victimised by those who consented.
This is how apartheid works, a partitioning of people by the people from the people.

In the era of TV dinners
and opiated mind control,
Bare Chimney O'Hara of 19
Homogenous Street, (being
the only house in the terrace
without a television ariel) has
been suspected of thinking
differently from all the others.

Because he is not current with
what his neighbours talk about
he has been ostracised, mainly
for disagreement, which is not
acceptable on Homogenous St.
As a result, he has to avoid them
for fear of being victimised thus
comes and goes by the back alley.