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Julian Sep 2020
I famigerate without taciturn timidity the straits of a straightened jury-rig of nesiote narrowbacks harping the accordion zest and zeal of the plenilune consuetude of a scrivello infamy sprung into the rows of rip-tide acclaim hamstrung by the decline in fastidious upkeep of the timberlask vesicles that avoid the phenakism of prismatic reformation fundamental to transmogrified simpers of dismal saturnine darkness encroaching on the parallax of realms within the dominion of the Almighty for the omniety of the usucaption of the fruitful prune in the priggish afterglow of a noontide eclipse bereaved of whispering retreat in the hallowed wasms of stiltanimity becoming an entreaty to ecumenical barbs of propriety selected without intimacy to folksy bibliopolists but rugged in sterling tribute to the true vine of the appointed ways of sacerdotal triage among a roughshod vanity of a derelict world marveling at otiose rejoinder rather than true spasms of tragedy flickering in the recessive alleles of a careworn culture. The travesty of Beirut is the bromide of current leapfrogs of sentinel lust and malapert destruction forming an ironclad camaraderie with chocolate-box langlauf disasters wed uxoriously to the penury of the brackish version of the catadromous bailiwick of despotic nescience pregnant with sophrosyne redemption at the cusp of a plaid perfunctory quip of quisling intimations of the sketchy provenance of humdingers of comestion lurking in the plodding prowl of a ribald wiseacre of a beckoned billow of trinkochre welded into a conscientious blarney that awaits the popinjays that sculpt brittle redshort fictions into awakened carapaces of a limacine reduction of impoverished fulmination into the neatly sworn footprints of a geotaxis shuddering with magnetism only in spectacle without the overhailing zeal of vintners who specialize in curtailed wine drawn from Caiaphas and soaked with the muddy turgid Siloam as avenues toward the repentance of asunder becoming marginalized as a whimper of taciturn choleric war receding not even into an audible delope as the masterful chryselephantine assault of cryptic auditions in the theater of effete refuge sink into the pelagic oblivion of a remarkable blister festering into inconsequence as the rebarbative emoluments to tattered travesty hearken a battle-cry yet emanated in the reprehensible bulwark of the gerendum of a poised plastered humility aggrieved with such friction turgid on rollicking magpiety that even the larceny of brutish renegades of triumph sink beneath the brevity of accident rather than the fortitude of globalized turpitude weakened by the improper demarche of fuliginous homeless depredation of innocent bystanders flocking to the harvest of war found in insight rather than the perfunctory bromidrosis of the macroscian enmity of hidden maleficence spawning a credenda that is spayed on arrival in the faineant zoolatry of a spelunkers’ madcap dash to flex the filigrees of turmoil in resentment of the amicable truces of a God who never tempts and a lurking lie that never itches for trigger-happy hapless rebukes because the skittish skirmish of futilitarian repose is a scoundrel of the profligacy of errant weakness blinkered by the humdrum din of deafening semaphores of provocative thornbush on the threshing floor of cowardly imposture president of all affairs of spirit and all renegades of caitiff megalography of forgotten oblivion despite the curglaff of vindictive and never vindicated assaults on the integrity of the birthright of Lebanon to wager a presumptive gamble of trifling retribution for the alacrity of suspicions eloping with forbidden mistresses in the humdingers of flackey rather than the troudasque harbinger of a lunacy impugned by a restive triumphant fallow time seasonable for a litany of pretenses demassified for a liturgy of seances with eldritch commiseration in the saw-toothed serration of selachostomous bravado wielded by likely or unlikely culprits of ravenous ruin shepherded by the guilty cardinal sins of the complicity of explosive vanity marauding on the ruins of a fortress debased by pettifoggery of internal excuse rather than the wrath of provocative ire in the irksome cauterized wounds of the inured to deliver spectacular reticence despite such grievous diacope. Evil gilderoys of maleficence carve the sapwood of the periphery to aimless subversions miscarried by the modern atrocity of glamour memorialized as a sound-byte underminnow of a roaring rhombos rip tide as stocks wavy at the curvature of edgy demarche despoil the denuded wasteland of cultural despondency a wagtail to the impudence of famigerated affronts that deserve a sterling recompense wielded by the onerous and operose burdens of a prone decubitus of aboriginal bread seeded from Heavenly realms dissipating into the roars of blinded conflagration too meek to even exist on the ramshackle hillside of a barnstorm of aggression powerless to encapsulate the nexility of unspoken allegiance to destruction rather than the halidom of consecrated marriages balking at the caulked provisions of a slugabed monolith of craven capers on the recesses of abeyance in the interregnum of a time where famous people communicate with me. How can such a charismatic bravado of lurking presidency stoop to the denizens of usufruct in licentious latitudes on the outskirts of consideration even pretend anymore that the vacuum of effluvium (Gal 6:7) can be mocked and milked into the row of centuries blistering through the calenture of apprisal and heaved awakening as the zephyrs of the Occident meet temporal juncture with the coenesthesia of a hibernating trumpery formed by the turnverein of listless lethargy billowing through fumiducts of siphoned lavaderos of hypogeiody that the underground spasms of cacophony could marvel at the historic emergence of a magnate with the most powerful magnetism of God shepherding the true flock John 10:27 because he is willing to be the good shepherd and potentially die for his sheep John 10:11. Remember, whenever you hear a Queer Studies Radical Feminist bloviate on emasculated sardanapalian posture John 8:44 and even though personified as a masculine titan of bulwarks of immense otiose wilted inkburch shielding the world from true meaning, the maskirovka of the Devil is present in the dark trespasses of personal abandon among the wilderness of many marsupial jackals of martles wagtails to an invictive proclamation of invulnerable sappy sopanaceous filibusters against hefty sinew forged the bony fragments of the charnels lost to brief epitaphs never mourned in threnodies worthy of remembrance that the departed died with us and live again through us whether in Heaven as participant or on Earth as an acting battalion of the skullduggery of the mystique of shimmers of God acting on Man’s behalf 1 Col 1:15-16. That the firstborn of all creation obtains supremacy through the finalisms that I seek as the captain of trailblazing untrammeled roads we are reminded of the narrow and wide gates expanded by the explosion of thought that trespasses into the hidebound ratchet of a reasonable bleat becoming a harsh outcry of justice for Lebanon that they feel so powerless in implosion what could aggrieve potentate civilizations to the precipice of global maleficence in destruction. Swarming for alveolate hominid hominism as an outgrowth of alienation by design polarized spectral dangles at jaundice flamestun by the ordeal of oppositive barnacles to the chryselephantine habituation of a masked menace of Procrustean authority to muzzle the free license of armamentariums of a latent man keen to the kenspeckel visibilia that we might have punctuation in the poised primiparas of a hearkened unprecedented in modern history that the traipse of lapse is no longer the tenure of mindless calculation of authoritarian gabble sentries of a mobilized fleet of embodied human ignorance but a foisted sprite of whangams of apothegm that deserve in their gnomic respite from the phenakisms of a philogeant kumbaya assertive in its treony of radical compassion for those who dwell in tentpoles of revelry bound not to the covenant that sent us into light and sparkling in hidden obsolescence that the fulgurant words of Mount Horeb (Sinai) are both immaculate and without trace of sin because Acts 17:30 declares a powerful truth lost to the twinges of time that issued peremptory governance of my theology but through remission I admit the grievances of septiferous blockades of ponderous plodding nescience haunting the spectral aubades of paeans to a high-flown sun darting through galactic space apace of the velivolant sails of divine wind that come in the spree of recompense authored by the vines to which all roots belong rhizogenic and immutable because the demarches of time forget the marches against the cauterized grime of new-world suspicions of aleatory fickle gubernatorial proclamations that issue reverb more than sprinkle flanged atrocity in the sight of the holy ramparts of an active double-edged God who reminds us of our many witnesses but provides not a single latchkey of escapism resident to many hapless homes of the drunken sing-song rhapsody nullifying the psychotaxis of the motatory miserly Draconian charades of Leviathan grasping the tridents of warp-speed revisionism in a benighted world overrun by mandarist fictions that fumigate a pasteurized control of cultural malcontent in situations of dearth infested by the concentration camps of China that remain unheralded in brumal and brutish indoctrination spared from worldwide outrage by the tribunes that are complicit more in malfeasance than they are celebrated for the herald of heinous bletcherous crimes of abecedarian abligurition anointed in waste rather than refined like unquenched slakes of eternal water so that no man can thirst hungry for the daily bread without returning to the providence of God awakened. Recalcitrant by the impudent quislings of repugnasket flarmeys of advenient flummoxed besieged clairvoyance I bask and beaze on the light that never fades because of the brackish whisk of a barnstorm of allegiance that is contumely to a bromide society listless in inferiority of intellect to my former streaks beyond jejune reiteration of the Jehu mentality against the canine fate of Jezebel and her faltered ministry of ewnastique waged as battalion gore of a trifling musket of an aboriginal swim through the oceanic gaze of peerless eternity squirming because of flagging resolution among the spandrels of incommunicable largesse lolloped extravagantly not just for the spoils of hyped pedigree but also a chamade to Heaven to enlist the purblind vestiges of a crambazzled Earth rejuvenated in adolescent esprit rather than callow eclat against the outrecuidance of whimpered miserly conscientiousness that exists in a shorter frame of reference than the provident dashes through a furlough of time and ancestry to cobble together a lapidary bristling excoriation of the tumescent squabbles of mystique brave enough to rarefy the humid pasteurization of a mannequin kenspeckel still-frame jilt of jostled infamy brusque in its curt envies borne of still-born promenades of a whasper between the youthful ligony and the intrepid soul of a collective warrior debased by the adscititious participant to elegant effronteries of the newfangled intellectual vogue that is the grombang of the tralleyripped hamshackle of ostentation meeting mirrored paralysis in sheepish ewnastique creations meddlesome in their ironic frizz of recursion as I lounge on the habits of creation by intelligent lurches of design that appointed the demarcations of all creatures and the mysterious bridge between the missing links that remain elusive to the flombricks of the misery of epigenetic rhizogenic imparlance of desuetude cringing at foresight littered with the disaster of ravished hindsight blushing at the limpid degeneration of the vapid varnish of benighted ligony rather than heroic strides of stoic-epicurean compromise in the apolaustic pursuit of the one eternal God present in rebellion but never the temptress of mendacity and mendaciloquence because the tug I have on speed is ratifying a cauterized casualty in the spumid betrothed wicked snuffs of extinguished furor for a time beyond barnstormed racloir rugged origination and faulty phenogenesis that escorts mythos into actionable litanies of the awakened breed scoffing at the inkburch of “Electrolytes”-wernaggle that besets the queer fascinations of a warped generation. The pytherian swank of artrench embodied in the recocted rendevation of hypetrophy in hubris swaddled by the reductive dranger polluting the realm of compliant complicant complaints of the ashowel of albatross astroud in the hibernaculum of langlauf rather than the ultramontane fiduciary tether to the estrockentch rather than the laureates of plevisable courage found in truest shades of vinsky not the subhastation of a gaslighted galvanization of purebred classy swivels of opportunism nor the ravenous incubus appetite for usufruct in subversion belongs to the behest of an insular nesiote flexing the flux of subversion as the candid posies of saccharine immodesty become relegated figments of the everlasting age of promised propriety rather than rigid stultimathy of hackencrude virtues of virtuosos that marvel at troudasque wonders occluded by the girlcott of Team Biden and his militarized soldiers of desiccation of trumpery and the faucets unbounded by swanky concealed epithets of regaled rentgourge by a hapless objection of the runic destruction of apothecary leniency becoming of the betokened emblazonry of scrimshank in every perfuncturation but embodiment of character shouldered by every chasm of power erected in demolition of the warped egintoch radicalism of the submerged wernaggles of the hopeless minority swimming with autodimplage few have to bear but the truest flock of God heeds my voice and has the sapience to spare themselves of contumely and invective to hearsay of invictive triumph beyond radioglare swirk to renege the musical providence of the chamades to the asterongue I often take for granted by immunifacient degrees of the foretold encroaching upon the crux of a pivotal and pivoted destiny not distant from cordial providence. The sweedle of epigones for the risctender of obligation to subvert the coryphaeus with the rigmarole of gentincture borrowed from the Gates’ formulaic effleck of perverse warbles of collectivized contrition for abetted cultural pederasty limpid in its achieved objective of the crudenzy borrowed from a lacking impediment to arentrum belonging to the knowledgeable happenstance of the glorified dengonin is a denostram that forestalls the agelasts behind porsters of culture rather than legitimate mainlined contamination of wellsprings of fliction of paranoiac enthusiasm might swim in kinkativy blinkered blind piebald girouettism but never dauntless in sematic entrenchment of robust dilettantism as the swaddled corrugation of time into centripetal ****** against centrifugal modernism that alienates propriety while estranging by vacuous vacuums the outspoken progeny of the surviving age beyond the Jay and Silent Bob travesty that manifests as a glower of menacing Bushian invention to tarnish with ****** mythos the drapes of a defenestrated realism of the flinkers of sheepish indignation against many drakstings of intonorous sclerotic mandibles of crackjaw chockablock annihilation of core precepts and institutions indelible from the face of a quixotic entreaty of a ragged intrusion of ageotropic monoideism above the secular-clerical fidelity of honest witness borne of triumph and tribulation festooning the nativist hyperbole into a useless effigy of mountebank imposture silly in precision and purblind to gallantry. Yet I must kisswonk rather than truckle under such ponderous pretense because of a sertivine certainty in the thickets of prudence rather than the tomfoolery of humgruffin impudence scaffolds me to a post-modern ****** that shanks through prisons of guilt and burrows an interrogation of reality supreme over all complaint that the virtuosity of the Gifted (the elect flock that comprehends my volcanic diatribes against mandarism and stomachs them without sardonic pastorauling insults of passerby vicissitude) will spare many nations of awakened perjury against human instinct in the fitness of nations to denigrate the populist squalor of lurid and livid ewnastique wernaggles of the listless buttress against my formal modesty encouraged in all affairs even in aggrieved humility belonging to intimidation rather than spawned jostles through the rumpus of shunamitism that might rankle a later age.  Yentrified morality is a personal flapdoon against the promiscuous pederasty of freewheeling ophelimity and the lurking narquiddity of the traindeque of donnist hedonism to hijack my psychedelic tolerance into an unwarranted and inadvisable sanction into the netherworld of the frinterans of cultural modality that curdact religion into a cosmetic cosmogony rather than a soldiered infamy becoming a beacon on a towering hill growing in solidarity with the pleonasm of existence itself which surpasses crude formulas that already abide by the riches of decorum too much to be admired as trigger-happy fools run the asylum of domesticated irony and the librettos to downfall rather than the wassails of “The Man” becoming more masculine in featured charisma rather than defiled against Leviticus among others who preach belonging to nuclear creed without fission but for true rapprochement to the fusion of the treony with legitimate gripes of unsung complaint among the masculine minority. The traindeque of a baseline complaint aggrieved by the kilmarge carapace of stiltanimity for the hackencrude resentment of the inkburch of illiteracy is a profligate degeneracy lurid in hyped enmity that the envied entreaty becomes the despotic shadow masquerading in shadows blossoming into the full wisdom of the mature sophrosyne heart eager to pour out blessings upon a conservation of recycled epitaphs becoming hearsay in a rebarbative convolution of redacted rigmarole incendiary to whittled henpecks of political engineering but never vapid in their flagging insistence upon an ecumenical toleration of the brooks of modernity and compromise upon which much felicity is aggrandized and permuted against the spoilsport frinterans who encage a dodgy moralism in wilted etiolated jaunty pedigree that espouses the maudlin grievous and ghastly ghouls and sprites that haunt the fictional hobgoblins of the Potemkin Village that finds usury convenient and perjury even more facile for the glib facetious engineers of modalities of hatred unsung by the ribald witwanton “I got a Solution...You’re a ****…South Carolina What’s Up” crowd that never marvels at ingenuity or rarely attempts it in the summit of the climacteric jaundice of hidebound whemmles of ridicule sparring against spartan flagitious wiseacres of genocide of ideation for the revelry of armed missives denatured by raw promotion of the questionable ethics of a flavork of needed slakes of unquenchable desire swarming us with daily temptresses not of wayward women but the disarmed pretense of a lapidary rejoinder to a long expatiation or harangue against hackencrude curdles of rowboat injustice masquerading as sentinel savory destruction of the towering edifice of proclamation. There is great menace in the casuistry of sophist philogeant philocubists dicey with destiny for mincemeat puppetry against sciamachy for the gallionic rise of gammadions in the craven lore of baseline pasquinade rallied to the insuperable causes of tribal shibboleth anointed by secular totemisms of fracture and fricative hisses of lineage that amount to pleonasms of brassage rather than mystagogical mystique of the prestige of human fraternity that shatters paradigms of creed and invites an honest vestige of Noble Savages to roam the Earth yet again unencumbered by lugubrious welters of misnomer and malapropism wagered by artifices of guileless supremacy that is cursory prima facie neglect of even the sororal duties not of sophomoric glib facetious cowardice of backbited backlash of venom militarized for the desuetude of entertained visagists sculpting *****-nilly their version or verdict of decisive apartheid when we should all rally behind the united frontier of the chosen flock in the chosen generation to truckle beneath the pews not of ignorance aggravated by the polluted kilmarge egintoch puritan barbs against publicity choices I now regret (as an emolument to an incredibly euphoric track with a poor miserly message to the enchanted flock inoculated from such diversions) because alighted upon the quenched thirst of salvation I will be judged more harshly as a teacher James 3:1 than the rest of my flock but gifted with the gratuitous salvation carved from the chiselers of ribald infamy capering around with dacoitage and ladronism of the bomans of unsuspecting quixotic caprice I must reckon with the burden of ghoulish shadows on the spectral imprint of my eternal soul relishing in vicarious splendor yet bereaved of quintessential love 1 Cor 13:4 that is necessary for the nuclear conclamation of vibrant hues of resplendent and refulgent providence necessary not from a dynastic perspective but from an aimed providence that alerts dynamism rather than chides with mimes of useless schadenfreude carved from the prestidigitation of the wicked condemned in Galatians 6:7 for the mockers of sanctanimity accorded upon me as gratuity that no man can boast my elite ears and my astute wonderworks of imagination qualified me for prophecy and among the most mesmerizing prophecies registered to fulfillment that the world has ever yet witnessed because the watershed isn’t a bridgewater for the chavish of ignoramus hatred congealed into thrombosis but the narrowed gate enlarges to encompass the swath of man amenable to the flocks that escort me into permanence rather than regale the tridents of a hedonism that elected me clairvoyant at a cost of immaculate splendor registered to the holy clergy of the Sacred Catholic Church and the broader Ecumenical Endeavor that tries to be a seamstress and bridge elemental divides inherent to divided approaches to liturgy which flex their strengths in times of robust fortitude rather than become a subhastation to the vestiges of the pilgrimage to false tabernacles erected by people cozened into charlatan endeavors by the pernicious and persnickety whiplash of Least Common Denominator subversion of widely heralded sentience and sapience enriching the lot of human ambition rather than stoking useless conflagrations of refracturism accorded to the swallock of primposition of the hackneyed hackencrude that swivels with the odious ornery pretense of overtures not to apertures and lychgates of the true abiding Heaven felt on Earth by many Christians whether in sobriety or not without the evil maleficence of a misguided donnism of narquiddity for the grambazzles of aged recklessness aborning on vacant responsibility that is rickety in its magnanimity of absolution because of the ulterior chase for bottom-line top-dollar oligochrome foisted by the cartels that blind true spiritual insight from ever reaching the magnitude of ambition required to shape mountains of revolution among the tertiary squabbles of a conversant Earth open to the troudasque gallop into yield and cloveryield for repcrevel reforms the paludism of the swamp remains skittish about conforming to because objectivism is a renegade of perspicuous light blinkering in hubris and gourmandizing the hinderbaggle of cosmetic pollutions aggravated by the plevisable articles of envy and TLDR politics to “Electrolyte” logic that is a sad recursive wernaggle of the useless buffoonery of humgruffins of tatterdemalion spate rollicking in the magpiety of a timid consentient faltering myth of unanimity among the beleaguered rainbows of many lugubrious tears showering bickering blasphemy upon the mockery of God for the pleasantry of self-aware sheepish resignation that professes only that any form of meritocracy is existentially unfounded only because the beehive elected its progeny the scepter of the ironclad kingdom that wages war against idolatry and serenades heaven with luxury simultaneously. We are all shepherds of providence and there is power enough in collective prayer that we don’t fiddle around with bodewash in mistaken identity but riddle the persnickety blemish of the fastidious critiques of biting sarcasm as a tantamount blasphemy and a criminal repartee of sardonic cloys of inanity foisted above truth. The peevish breedbates who scour my evidentiary pillar of chiseled vertebrae of unbroken bones of solidarity with oikonisus will be sorely disappointed in their truthful audits of my true perception because in every single case it exonerates me from the pulpit of menacing idiots who scrawl random gabble in attempts to sound smart while reeking of iniquity wrought by the gavels of predevoted inferiority of complexion and attitude that gravitates them to an insensate benumbed transmogrified bailiwick of an appalling atrocity of mythomaniacal myths spurned by consensus among those who prize my grandeur above the superstitions of the illiteracy of the rancid rankle of otiose stupidity writhing its own sheepish envy of arbitrary dislike motivated by feminist aggressors waging warfare on turf I already conquered by swaying the intelligentsia to beckon my cause rather than pillory me on a false scaffold of frinteran abuses of the nyejays of bernacle that junediggle in the taradiddle of the nanciful excoriation of my leaden corpse weighed down by the witchcraft of connivance trayning its own delicate myths while avoiding scrutiny for appalling contumely that deserves an audience more suited for fracklings of treony belonging to the trinkochre of the rising alienation and suicides among perverted gay indoctrination that is a scourge on the planet because it willfully denies with its portentous hibbles the regaled wisdom of the culminated age against renegades of apostasy and for the behemoths of true monumental change that sizzles in savory circles among the vanguard only to alarm the Status Quo hijack of my entire endeavors as a covert crusade to use wrecking-ball fashion tactics to cosmetically incisively and insidiously perform a harprick of surgery upon a blameless countenance only for being a thorn to wragatek wragapole slavery which wages war against universal salvation because it gripes with inkburch and circular pleonasms about the most obvious glaring lies and feasts upon the serrated edge of the capers of hatred that frolic in meadows too skittish to enter the barbarian fortress of my forested residence robust in fortitude and glowering with a menacing contempt for runaround psychobabble that obganiates the obelisk of the moribund crusade to make normative ethics effeminate and to enthrone inviolable women’s speech as supreme to any male objections like the Cristiano Ronaldo accuser that came forth 8 months after #MeToo one of the most dishonest campaigns in modern history enthroned by Hollywood elites in gammerstang insurrection against pay-gap ethics done manipulatively with the sapwood of mendaciloquence like Blasey Ford whose physiognomy reeked of maudlin pretense that was so ornery in how obvious of a maleficence the intrepid Abortion Agenda has over the minds of selfish women who prefer ecbolic second-term abortions to the servile gripes of primiparas building new life rather than tearing down the scaffolds of new generations. Hominism deserves its rise because-in increasing numbers-men are derelicted by society and coerced into vapid tallespin enslavement that ridicules itself with the perjury of soul to the soulless vanity of recursive cycles of benumbed narquiddity found in “****** Hero” among other atrocities littering the human fascination with the hinderbaggle of our polluted age verging on totemic blistering hegemony of a few rotten apples corrupting the vagrant ingenuity of the forgotten champion who ushered in a new era of candor in the attempted interregnum of the United States government because I Am Hollywood got the name correct considering how many memorials there are to me in the movie industry. The junediggles of sc-ha-den-freud-e which is as deliberate of a German pun as JUDEn JuDEN which shows the German language is as farsighted as you can get and why many of my neologisms have a German tinge to them. German is an elegant language with botched syntax but a peerless repertoire of vocabulary and even though I love French, the Germans are smart because their language is smart not just because of petty arguments of pedigree which are specious at best. Being dontolesque with  the zenkidu of rengall nauclatic mythos is an artful degree which accords nominal prestige to licentiates while excorifying the obvious metaphors of sunblind logic that scours the scorched Earth of internet diatribes of sophistry and dethrones the Marcie Biancos of the world “Heterosexuality is officially OVER...K Bye” with her 145 IQ and a Stanford Degree in Queer Studies (A professed atheist by her own Twitter admission) with the warped logic to equate a heterosexual relationship for a woman as ******* to patriarchy. For someone that well-studied in literature she sure is a dumb-*** and I will demolish the syntagma of those that root against me for Status Quo preservation in the official interregnum of Saturdays during the Trump Presidency. We need an official referendum on the ideas of termagant illogical anti-egalitarian poison that derives from a deracinated worldview that doesn’t contextualize how powerful language is at shaping thought because if the entire world were Anglophonic every single country on Earth virtually would see immediate dividends in terms of intellectual creativity and limber with concepts and percepts because it is no accident the most successful empire in History the United Kingdom, was favored because of its shibboleths of Shakespearean creativity draped with flairs of the irreverent while gilded by God to be a majestic commonwealth. England and France monopolized a huge majority of history by no accident because although English might be a slightly keener language the French culture of salons of freewheeling intellectual enlightenment gilded the 17th and 18th centuries into absolution despite the Panglossian epithets of Voltaire who was ironically dissuaded from religion because of the All Saints Day 1755 Lisbon Earthquake and Tsunami. We need to be vigilant against encroachments of perceived shibboleths and more keen on an affirmative meritocracy that favors the poor and blesses the meek in their poverty and inspire ambition among them to join the coteries of refinement in thought sometimes harder to achieve with crackjaw lollops in pleonasmic languages that fail to articulate with nexility or forceful wit the true abstractions that govern the pataphysics of the unknown. Language is so decisive over human thought that it is incumbent upon every language to refine its vocabulary to trayne compendious verbiage and trim the hedges of global reform to invite the curiosity of the age to favor all creeds and languages of Abraham and the diverse progeny of a variegated panoply of majestic feats common to all parlance and capacity beyond just the Anglophonic snare because the world needs not a chicanery of blustering churlish buffoonery but an Almighty respect for the consanguinity of all to God’s blessed creation that he inseminated by his deliberate hands to enrich the world with diversity rather than cleave the world with piecemeal skeumorphs of radical propaganda that opposes the modern and post-modern egalitarian streak. One wrong must be corrected, however, the underrepresentation of Hispanics in the media and in film because this grave error is much more pervasive than the ******* LGBT inclusion narrative because these days the lollygags of fashionista odalisques with Obelisks to Baal get more say over the common decorum than the marginalized bronteum of the  rich and vibrant Latino culture which is squelched by the poverty of media and Hollywood representation. Synectics showcases how a henpecked aim at the synaesthesis of culture congregated around our Almighty Father blessed among the nations who adhere to the progeny of Abraham can be more blessed when working together rather than tribal with nepotism and aristocratic in sustained affronts to the elevation of affirmative meritocracy to the forefront of discussion rather than the froward backlash of benumbed narquiddity because the synallagamatic nature of complexity needs to be devolved with industrious ambition to all cultures and the savory flair of the vogue needs not merely a wednongue fascination with an eventual terminus of crudenzy but a sustained intellectual reformation on all fronts to standardize the English language through Hollywood and the Music Industry so that the dragnets of appeal etch a permanent trace into the engraved souls of the true flock John 10:27 are consecrated in divine purpose to reverse the Babylonian Diaspora of confused and conflated purpose that stunts the raltention of humane course and the proper pataphysical syncrisis of an evolved mundane temperament that transcends the circular traps of circumlocution common to the milquetoast industrial titans who winsomely charm with toady gestures the elitism of a moribund philosophy of intellectual thought delegation to elevate the common rhetoric to reach new pinnacles in both tribune and political gamesmanship because higher standards are required even when they surpass some common understanding so that every ambition becomes a conclave for the goal of human unity solidified by the truth of the kerygma and proclaimed to all creation as the culminated synclastic reformation of the idea of indulgence and the propriety of regaled moderation that appeases the common decorum with a shared vested interest in Latin America especially which is besieged by the cultural tenets of obrogated specialization and denigrated by the common myths of warped phenogenesis which should be debunked as a wasm of hypocrisy limited because its callous tentacles lack the charismatic fulgurant equipment of future generations to bear the operose burdens of a quintessential time of harmony united by the hymns for God by God to appease the sentries in Heaven and the celestial realms that exist for our merriment more than our detriment. The sprauncy have the  frikmag to recognize the spuria of apocryphal heresies that encourage kinship above matriotism and shared fortitude for intellectual valor rather than “*** talk TLDR” hashtags abounding on the turf of the insensate wernaggle of clueless charlatans wiggling through life not because they were borne into slavery but because they choose to be Helicopter Parents of “Baby Shark” rather than token mantelpieces of enlivened culture shimmering with radiation of Gods glory as cemented in Colossians 1:15-16 because the firstborn of all creation lives in some form in the ligature of Christ 1 Cor 12:12 because there are so many talents that exist in our variegated world that the mastery of expertise in dominions of conversant fluency will abet the variegated crops of a draped humanity corrugated on its own ironies for the delicate sizzle of beatific felicity multiplying itself in centupled design over centuries to overcome hinderbaggle while realizing the fictions of some drawflark. The strigine world concedes to this upstart rooster maybe considered a parvenu of dearth but luxuriant in riches boundless to all that draw near to the kerygma of Christ and feast on his daily bread found throughout liturgy because we should listen to people like Cardinal Timothy Dolan who is exceptionally astute (perhaps an understatement) to guide us on a regenerative rather than degenerative pathway towards universal attempts at salvation that broach a new decorum bridged by aliens to select chosen emissaries to bridle the fissions of repartee reserved for the forlorn that balk at ambition rather than relish a new era of seditious determination against the determinist fallacy and for the mental health of those coping with autodimplage and sheepish regrets and persnickety articles of remorse because all the world deserves our consolation and desperate attention rather than the trumpery of the circus masquerade of marauding agitprop which congeals into thrombosis of toxicity as the vast majority of Democrats refuse to even hear Trump speak when he is discussing discursive solutions to enigmatic quagmires,for, if more people listened to Trump they would be disabused by the specious claims of his misogyny and white allegiances because his candor is brilliant and despite the prominent advocacy of Biden who has considerable prestige in my memory, we deserve a bipartisan syncretism that unites the world and unifies the country away from the swerve of salacious mythos and towards a rambunctious magpiety of solidarity against the secular humanism of a defunct piety to Marxist feminism which is a crudenzy among the awakened men around the world increasingly alienated by the hackencrude of wednongue illiteracy even trumpeted by the vanguard as panacea when it is a comestible form of poison. We need visionary unity where there was once toxic divisive balkanization of exclaves of limited foresight clashing with new wave awakening to the persecution of illumination itself for not a rigid hierarchy but a flexible structure of inclusion that adjusts to cultural expectancy and modifies the traindeque that strands many in institutionalized poverty especially in Latin America and India and obviously Africa too. The stegophilists of language should herald the aubade of the chavish of redintegration over the squawk of din of squabbles of internecine redacted revisionism beleaguering our lyceums with toxic agitprop even at the highest institutions of learning who balk often at the recycled auditorium of useful thought because their venal tilt is complicit in squelching freedom of thought and our schools should open early so that zig-zag-zoom politics around feldtrounds who are eagerly outnumbered by the patrons who police thought become agentic not with outspoken treacheries but inseminations of intimation to hint at the spectral mystagogical reality we are all members of despite hurdles that beset the hemiteries of odalisques who seek inertia rather than mobilization. The ribald underminnow of transparency is a carcinogen of the rampant siege of Status Quo coarse hypocrisy for tentative flings with cadged cloyed saturnine professions of the landmines of atrocious miscarriage as I soldier on in the causes of the poor and the forlorn to become enriched by the glory that God delivers with munificence so that all might be enriched by the emanations of the true vine and in distaste of error I rebuke the armada of belittled armamentariums of the cantonment of deep-state breedbates boiling over potboiler frikmag that exists as a transcendent obscurantism flowering in decisive times to warp the contextual footprint of a life served in the service of all the oppressed people as a kind of Moses figure raised by the elite and fighting for the criminally oppressed and the ****** of mediagenic hyperbole is dissatisfied by my glowering spectacles because they dismount from the equipoise of the righteous gallop towards ecumenical solidarity at untimely punctuations of juncture superseding the flictions of frikmag dethroning my righteous valor and provident sanctanimity to prowl like predatory wolves the fathers of the casuistry of mendaciloquence to accentuate the stridor of inopportune squalor of the selachostomous regimes of teetotaler totalitarian freebooters who prevent bootstraps from manufacture as they gradgrind the world into ergonomic insufficiency while I provide a Kamacho-like galvanization to the broader world that favors the consanguinity of all animate sentience to the aboriginal vine of the universe that plays with the toyed cadge of oppositive support but lends credence to a more evolved view than the crudity of encapsulated travesties inserted with jaundice against the lyceum of freedom of thought and the celerity of headless horseman galloping in partial interregnum to crown the strobic stridor of the stiver of the steven of contarianism engineered for walloped ringleaders of the renegades of heresiarch sedition in their odalisque oaths to Pagan dieties carved from the sapwood of gullible Illuminati naivety that professes allegiance to the worst whangam ever invented Baphomet and his faked cronies of ewnastique free-for-all diminutive crags in the renown of dawning light becoming cagey struthious structuralism embedded in sclerotic wasms of the wanhope of a nullified message becoming a sacred creed to the attentive while the lilt of the otiose drawl in serpentine convolution a ribald pleonasm of circular circumlocution that provides locomotive linearity rather than leapfrogged slogmarches into the province of the territorial alignment of kinship against the partisan hollertrap and the stigmatophilia of obsessive persnickety popinjay beadledom the last stronghold of the rickety resistence to this Saturday interregnum which presides over the better part of the intelligentsia if not the common pedestrian parlance because hortatory weights cannot be described in any other way than metagnostic flickers of Yellow Submarine vandalism of a pristine living animation of the humane spirit that prizes the plight of the poor and the blarney and blench of unjust opprobrium faced by the institutionalized bailiwick of flictions of gammadion gallionic posture when in fact they register as seismic entities engraved upon my Christian conscience that strictly welcomes the emigrants to truth from whatever consecrated virtue they originate from because all are capable of the same light and the same compassion of a beatified humanity rather than the relish of deep-state castophrenia which belies its own ribald gay mockery on live TV as not a single twinge of ****** attraction overtakes me in matriotic sardanapalian effrontery of a hollow but sadly hallowed vainglory of the hierodules that bury the coffers of patriotism in a sad LGBTQ graveyard of landmines that demonstrate a complete disregard of the nuclear family and should be decried as an outcry against redefined Christianity bolted to unshakable irrefragable beliefs in the constitution of man and women wed together in one monogamous flesh with the occasional cuddle of close tithes to the ******* of friendship as the slavery of sin in Leviticus 20:13 falls to the wayside because this patriotic lewdness is a vapid fatuous derangement that is a new low for the United States attempt to inoculate China from religious accord with the broader world and should be seen as a Chinese maskirovka worthy of the heaviest disdain and I will disavow America if it continues to bandy the tripwires of Chinese boondoggles under the American banner and pretend its pretense isn’t lagging under its own bletcherous abecedarian elementary fallacy of psychobabble oblivion of dark saturnine brusque termagants of tatterdemalion cloaks of the selfsame illusion of a desperation of China to wreck the United States economy and inseminate Florida, Arizona and Texas especially with the Coronavirus to swing the election in Biden’s favor with or without US Complicity to expedite the course of a virus which sees no resurgence in any other civilized country in the world while the heroic Russians, Germans, Israelis, French, British and true American Christians banish the barristers of bad taste as an acerbic poison on the wellsprings of a flagitious flag I would kneel for in the knells of disgrace if the pompous and completely inoculated missives of Buttigieg ******* continue to roam shepherded by deep state elitism to wreck the opportune moment of religious revival for petty reasons of chryselephantine gambit and gimcrack for institutionalized poverty which my ambition is to heal completely by sacerdotal deeds and consecrated prayers in the Lord whose peace surpasses the temporal despair of senectitude and comforts the grievances of the aggrieved because Galatians 6:7 is no more true than the fatuous display of muscular idiots waving American flags for turpitude rather than flogging very perverse Gay men in the streets which might be a more fitting outcome even though I must remove the plank in my own eyes first to see the irony of the detested. The doytin is no longer misguided by the nanciful derision of the vociferous clangor of the venal Gates mafia militia wrecking ball vaccination Bezos crew in Medina which is a mettle I can’t match when you own every citizen in the world in a few square miles of nesiote territory the denizens of conquest besieging religious sanctity with profane outbursts of corruptible linchpins on the public lynch of the strepsis of periblebsis that vitiates commonwealths of supreme sputtering regimented clairvoyant superlative alabaster wealth of the isangelous protectorate of the supreme God that supervises his careworn flock into the storge against the scourge of prosodemic stigma stained in bleeding heart liberal bathed tears of pseudoautochiria of Jim Morrison glaring in the face of the triads that Killed Him in the French Connection ******* of 71’ that outnumbered his hobohemia of loyal jewish bohemians livid in the rhapsody of nurture rather than enfeebled by the unfurled destiny of the Soul Kitchen he foresaw to his own pitiable demise at probably the hands of strangulation because no autopsy was performed. Although repetitive Transparent is a real anthem for oracular mystagogical transcendence a mandatory hymn for the ryseolagnus of the poetic verve of a new wave swooning the cordial progressive of atmospheric oneness with the primordial vine and the vintners that congregate on populated soil to feed a desolate destitution of synoecy or synaesthesis in the syncretic rhapsody of the subfocal ageotropic plenilune yet saturnine lugubrious toil of those that shovel through the albatross of ewnastique recapitulation to the same tired “Its got what plants crave, it’s got electrolytes” wernaggle of the hopelessly dismal inkburch of illiteracy crawling like a Hyacinth House on a vacant graveyard turf guarding the legionaires of rapid-fire zig-zags through a serpentine curvature of the ligaments of fabricated space warped through prismatic lenses of aperspectival time aspiring for ventriloquial enamored rapture upon Earthly parallax with tapestries of refulgent cascading wandering wonder that meditates its own lucubration with careworn tutelage against the wasms of dying oleaginous swelters of redshort opportunistic vultures swooping with Raven’s claws against the odometer of viewership surpassing records in unspeakable wisdom that crowds out the crambazzle toonardical wreffelaxity of the tiresome nuisance of ornery brawn muscled into a formidable triage in vengeance for Jim Morrison’s scripted eviction from Earth either by poisoned ****** or by  Asphyxiation by the French Connection avenging RFK and the cultural revolutions of 67’ in Haight Ashbury and the widespread percolation of treacheries fathomed to the most obvious degree in showmanship that it bristled as an affront so severe that even the patronage of Paris wasn’t immune to infiltration. His threnodies will always be sung with Triumph that the hallowed day of a monumental soul eluding the darkness of purgatory into the welcoming aborning light of the noontide progeny of eternal ataraxia awaited him in the stagecraft tub of blasphemy bellowing ratcheted warnings that not even the palatine grasp of a potentially divine being was inoculated from the deep dark chasm of nefarious skullduggery for boasting so widely and openly of his professed foresight to glamorous to be hidden as the beacon of virtuosity that galvanized a generation to flout the  futtocks of a keelhauled vision of sanitized purblind mortality that the fear of death rarely crossed the mind of the greatest fearless poet of an entire epoch that we may pray that Jim Morrison feasts in Heaven atoned for his sins and is at peace with God now. The substratose congeniality of marginalia on the outskirts of pederasty in cultural miscarriage owned by hierodules boundless in their lurid debaucheries that they might be remanded for being custodians of hostage to a prolific nescience  reaffirming their dying posture in the extinction of sardanapalian coverthrow of repcrevel camorras of ladronism and dacoitage always cauponate in imbibed throes of lewd AstroTurf outrecuidance glowering at sanctity with a bereaved psychobabble divorced from the purebred empiricism of true giants of industry that are almost insuperable in their extortion that their darkness in deeds of Kobe Bryants assassination do not go unpunished at least in Los Angeles. His untimely death as with many others registered on the Richter Scale because Come Clean perverts from Kansas City wanted San Francisco to win to clean the mops of janitorial revenge of the subturbary rickety foundations of a flailing moral compass so wicked in arbitrage that no subreption undetected would flourish among capernoited vigilantes of poached titanism and illuminism scarring the vestiges of enigmatic encroachment upon untouchables daring the frights of the Living Daylights of scurrilous rebukes so scathing in their menacing depiction of negligent bromides of token sacrilege and scarred sacrifice of a scarecrow example of how the prosodemic scourge of befuddled turgid pristine transmogrified heralds scampered away with pseudoautochiria that afflicted Jimi Hendrix suspiciously as well. My support is behind the justice warriors aggrieved by the Beirut explosion because they deserve a vindictive outcome that quells the quislings of atrocity of the popinjay beadledom of the unspeakable tremors of seismotic popples of unrest warranted in Lebanon the homeland of Keanu Reeves a saint among men for his peerless grace and agraceries of the smog of myth evanescence becoming perdurable swings of the humdingers of berated jaundice becoming the prerogative of the revenge of a city leveled to the ground by suspicious skullduggery and I am surprised they lay dormant for this long in their protracted grievance over the ghoulish frights of one of the most unheralded major events in recent memory. We need to highlight the plight of Lebanon so that world leaders are frightened even of intimidated people tranquilized by terror rather than enlivened by the propriety of redacted rejoinders that serve the ulterior mission of a Titanic bravery that never sinks beneath the sumptuary treacle of grombang grambazzle and supercherie of the supercalendar of poignant repined repose derailing an emolument to ecumenical solidarity. Lets highlight Lebanon as an inexcusable trespass worthy of some mighty reckoning if not a riveted war but at the very least a devastated twinge of outrage.
Living is a cross
That any one of the rock-faces
Comprehends.


We are drawn
To many seas.
We drown wholesomely
In the failures of confrontation.
The rain
Drenching
Our doorsteps
Has nothing to do
With the simplest desires
And lacerations
We bring
To the smallest acts
Of living.


The child
On the broken catwalk
Hearing the sounds of our hunger
Without understanding
Throws echoes back
To the earliest abandonments
Of love.


Minor devastations preceding
Horror
Resonate the ineffable.
The mothers that wake
At the slightest sound
And the fathers that
Smoke all night
And the rest of us who are
Vigilantes from the demons
Of oppressed sleep
Find at dawn the clearest
Images of bewilderment.
Even the best things
Collapse beneath the weight
Of ignorance.


Living is a fire
That any one of the wave-lashes
Comprehends.
___
Source:
http://www.universeofpoetry.org/nigeria.shtml
Yenson Jul 2018
May we live in and see interesting times, the old saying goes

another offers that when the mind is blind, the eyes cannot see

for me my days are interesting and the laughter readily and often comes

for the grapes of wrath brings forth mirth filled grapes on grapevine tendrils

As lemmings and sheep enact bellyaching absurdities, as the ridiculous does



Veracity on sojourn and falsehood in residence with doors firmly closed

Hamlet re-enacts hapless role, with Red Robin Hood and vigilantes to a tee

eager audiences, participatory scenes in towns and cities, leaving empty homes

come all and vent your spleen and satiate your prejudices without paying a fee

This land belongs to us, it is our birthright and we will send Hamlet to the catacombs



Nothing is private anymore, rights and freedom nailed, anywhere we roam

Ophelia not only went to Italy, she went to Hull, Turnpike Lane and even Essex

but a joke here, if all these were good, why did she come to me, you simple gnomes

perchance unlike you common goons,  she knows distinction has no comparison to thee

Your vacuous hate filled mind cannot see that difference in a Prince, that regally looms



Act two, dim, fooled actors in their Beggars Opera, screaming, 'we oppose' with glee

so called republicans, laughable in their ardent favor, ignorant of their lobotomy botches

we will do Hamlet's head in, totally unaware theirs been done in, for the brains of fleas

in a civilisation, our conscious and stable populace, roots for vigilante and mob rule, yeah

for a man of distinction is a threat reminding you of your insignificance and lack of tomes



Come friends, lets see how the home of Democracy, hounds a citizen for us all and we

lets know that Robin Hood is alive and taxing, and 'Windrush' is still active in dispatches

indigenous people power, meets criminal gang stalking, meets racism and we all drink tea

and in true cowardly fashion, its all done by insidious, indictable, nefarious, malcontents and psychopathic crazies

It is our proud duty that we should all ruin Hamlet, for mediocrity has no distinction for aspiration et excellence


Copyright LaurenceA. JUNE 2018.All rights reserved.
This is based on the experience of some one victimized by a contemporary Left-wing Group for daring to criticize their views and believing in aspiration. This poor fellow has been hounded all over London, lost his job, isolated by smears and outrageous lies now broke and on the verge of suicide,, all because he aired his own stance against socialism. The Reds are forsaken bullies, I dare say this. In the old Soviet States dissidents are subjected to a program called Slow death, where they are discredited, harassed, hounded, mobbed everywhere, isolated, they are smeared, character assassinated and persecuted. they are unfairly dismissed from jobs, denied basic Human rights and some are framed and institutionalized and declared insane, in essence their whole lives are summarily destroyed and most end up committing suicide. I regret to tell you that this happens to some in this great Nation too. Pls research Criminal Gang-stalking, Cause Stalking and Community Vigilantes online.
Yenson Jan 2019
You're clowns, as laughable as hell
Go read the passage on Cyber  troll perps
unemployed ******* paid to sit online
writing ******* to flood and demoralize
the ninocoops brain deed perverts
think others are weak inconsequentials dweeps
like the spineless nervous  victims you usually  terrorize

Go re-appraise your anodyne tactics
30 years, I am still standing still laughing
Am at my best when alone ready for turds
I don't hide, I haven't fled anywhere
Or go all shaky and trembly
You don't frighten or terrorize me one bit
My mind is razor sharp, my nerves steely as ever

Coward wiggas are contemptibles
Can't stand and trade face to face
Only brave when they gang up against one man
behind screens inventing false identities
You are laughable, odious little perp rats.
Deluded slaves controlled fools.....

Hahaha....hahaha....Hahaha....western rubish
trailer trashes, you can't even spell your lingo

PERP CYBER TROLL, VIGILANTES OF THIEVES

LAUGHABLE MORONS, SIMPLETONS YOBBOS

SHAMELESS FOOLS, LOOK HOW LONG YOU'VE
BEEN AT IT, CAN'T BRING DOWN JUST ONE MAN
WHITE THIEVES SERVANTS....Hahaha...hahaha
Trefild Jul 1
Whatever civil stuff there is to oppose evil, in terms of removing an agent of evil from a position of significant power, it's nigh on ineffective. Partly because people, being ones putting all that civil stuff into practice, are corruptible. Imagine someone [further - TP (that person)] in a position of power being accused of some wrongdoing. Yes, if TP's an expendable part of a corrupt system they belong to, they may end up in prison. But what if TP isn't & have more than enough money for a bribe & connections big enough to end up with the case against them being dropped or not even initiated (in other words, untouchable)? And let's say a wrongdoing committed by TP is grave (just like a place deserved by villains such as autocrats to be put in). Such as sentencing a dissident to prison, thus making them a political prisoner, or usage of physical tortures, or even being a leader of an authoritarian regime waging an unjustified aggressive war, what's then? What are remaining options? Evil understands only the language of force & threats. And in comics, there's a type of individuals to punish such agents of evil: VIGILANTES.

Yes, vigilantes operate above the law, but they're above the law either when the rule of law is broken, or in cases when there isn't enough evidence to put a criminal into prison. And by vigilantes, I don't mean the "civil" type like the Batman bringing criminals to justice by neutralizing them unlethally so they can be handed over to law enforcement agents (though, it's worth noting that the Dark Knight strikes terror into criminals, at least into ones operating where he operates). I mean the type like Jason "Red Hood" Todd, Francis "Punisher" Castle, or V disposing of agents of evil as if they were weeds, which they are. Some may deem such individuals as criminals, if more precisely, murderers, but to me & ones like-minded, they're, first of all, society purgers. Necessary antiheroes, if you will.

It's understandable why there's no or nigh on zero such individuals in the real world. For there's little of those having nothing or nigh on nothing to lose & even less of those belonging to this type & being/willing to become expert assassins at the same time. As for professional killers present in the world, as far as I understand, most of them work for the underworld & have no or little principles. I wish there's a whole squad of those vigilantes/society purgers in the world targetting the most powerful ones among agents of authoritarian regimes & members of the underworld. For all those power-corrupted ******* understand only the language of force & threats, as it seems to me, &, as Rorschach from "Watchmen" said, evil must be punished. Of course, the problem is not that there are corrupt people committing wrongdoings, the problem is that there are corrupt ideas hosted by these or other people. But since there's no way to destroy an idea, especially in today's digitalized world, all there's that can be done is to make so that wrongdoing hosts of corrupt ideas are either stripped of power somehow, or isolated from the rest of society, if realization of either one is possible. If not, then liquidation of those hosts.

As Vladimir Makarov from "Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare III" (2023) said, the wicked prosper, they always will. The harsh reality is that this world's so terrible it could use having antiheroic vigilantes being lesser evil to fight villains being greater one.

Don't get it wrong, I neither support nor mean to glorify violence. My only intention is to justify usage of it towards wrongdoers in positions of power, in particular, towards, as I've said, the most powerful ones among agents of authoritarian regimes & members of the underworld.
This world needs more bold & principled individuals like vigilantes to fight the corrupted powers that be.

VIVA LA REVOLUCION
The evil witch is after the 11 year olds


Once upon a time there was an evil witch,, and this witch was like no witch i n any fairy tales, no this witch was pure evil, you see she took pride in grabbing 11 year old kids avid locking themselves in the basement to eventually chop them up and put them in an oven, to give herself a feast, the first kid was young a 11 year old boy named Tommy Kinarfis and he was on his way to school and he was just minding his own business when this black car pulled up and before Tommy could run away, the witch grabbed him and shoved him in the boot of his car and being as scared as he was, Tommy really didn't want to die, and tried to bang the the walls of the boot to show that he has been kidnapped but nobody heard him and before he knew it, he found himself locked up in a cage being fattened up, so the witch can eat him up, and after about 12 hours Tommy was dead, and the witch was happy, the next kid was 11 year old daughter of president Frederick Leonardo, you see this president was so conservative and everyone was too scared to do anything bad to his kid, but one day when the presidents daughter, who was named Terri was waiting for her body guard after school when this car turned up and this man got out pretending to be her bodyguard one day, and after 2 hours of driving Terri realised that she has been kidnapped, and then the bodyguard took off his nice disguise and when Terri noticed it was the witch, she tried to escape but soon enough she was locked in her cage being fattened up, so the witch can enjoy her feast, and the presidents daughter Terri was dead and the president had a little burial for her.
The next kid was 11 year old Peter Vernin and he was a kid who loves sport, especially the AFL, because that was a boys sport, and Peter had it in his mind that because he played AFL, he will he invincible but as he was going to footy training, he had to walk because his parents had to work, a ******* car pulled up and this man pulled up and asked Peter if he would like a ride, and Peter, being only 11 said yes thinking he was being treated like a kid that everyone liked, but then he found himself chained up in the witch's basement ready to be slaughtered at any given time, you see because Tommy had muscles, that was enough to make him be nice and tender to eat and when the witch finds out that he had suffered enough, then the witch will cook Tommy up and before he knew it, Tommy was just a corpse and the witch was feeling very happy and this made her feel she can slowly get rid of each child as soon as they reached 11, and she was feeling like nobody will ever stop her from accomplishing this feat.
The FBI are having a hard time trying to find there missing kids because they just vanished without a trace, but they had every officer and forensic investigator in to try to catch the witch and make her pay, mind you the FBI were unaware that the persons responsible is a wicked evil witch.
The next kid was Raymond Terrestal, an 11 year old who was in a broken home and every day he went to the local shops to buy milk for the family but also he would occasionally steal a chocolate bar and also a few flavoured milks, and the witch said to herself that this boy needs to chopped him up and watch his shiny white legs slowly turn to very tasty meat. Even though Raymond put up a fight, saying you can't chop me up, fella, I am a sports boy and I have heaps of muscles, but the witch told him that the muscles make him even more tastier, and she wants to have Raymond to really taste nice so he can really get away from any way of being a sports boy, and as Raymond was cooking, he is yelling and yelling, saying, let me go, I am a big tough sports boy, I like playing footy, I don't wanna die, let me go and leave me alone old witch, but the witch said heh heh heh hen heh, no buddy you ain't a cool kid, all the other kids are tough, but you Raymond, no you are all mine, and Raymond was screaming, please save me from the wicked witch, And he also said why me, why me, why me, and the witch said, no mate your not like us,mate
You are still a little shy boy, and I am just doing what The Lord wants, you see Raymond, The Lord wants me to cook boys up when they turn 11, because then they are even more tender because they are mature enough so I get a good tasty bit of human flesh, and eventually Raymond died and the witch continued on her journey to rid the world of kids right till they turn 11 years of age.
The next kid was 11 years old Naomi Roberts who was a really family and friends type of girl and she very rarely strayed away., but one day she and her friends played outside the witch's house, because it was a pretty good place for kids to play in but unknown to Naomi that her friends were playing a trick on her and had planned to get her stuck in the bushes near the mail box and when the witch went outside to see what the noise was, she saw Naomi stuck in the garden trying to break free, and the witch used her powers to make her look like a nice old lady and brought Naomu inside to keep her safe, then the witch showed her true colours and told Naomi that she will never escape from her, and she also said she is hosting a dinner party and Naomi is the main course and from the moment she said that Naomi started to get scared and screamed and screamed for the witch to let her go, she also said it's not she that the witch wants, it's her friends, who stabbed Naomi in the back and the witch said, no they are young women and I don't want to **** young women, it's you, who I want, little girlie, and you are never going to ever escape from me, and Naomi said no Mrs Witch, you will be with me till my dinner party and then Naomi you will be no more. You will leave this world never to return little baby little girlie, Naomi is very scared and starts to feel like her perfect world is about to end because the wicked witch has her right where she wants her.
Naomi was trying to scream so loud that the witch's neighbour would hear and come and rescue her but nobody can hear her and Naomi starts to get very scared, so scared in fact, she tried to fight her way out of the cage but it is closed so tightly and Naomi is starting to get scared because still the FBI have no leads on the whereabouts of these kids, and despite being bullied by the parents of the missing kids, they feel tempted to give up the search till they get a lead, simply because there is no point in trying to find a needle in a haystack, but the parents wanted them to find their missing kids, even if it means they have to become vigilantes and defy the law and find those kids themselves, meanwhile the next day in the witch's house, the witch was starting to cook Naomi up so they can have their dinner party, a nice tasty little girl for dinner, heh heh heh heh heh heh heh, and when Naomi was slowly dying the witch kept of stirring and stirring to make Naomi really suffer, you see for the witch, well, she took pride in torturing kids as soon as they turn 11, and then Naomi died and the witch was happy and said that is another 11 year old under our belt, heh heh heh heh heh
The next kid was 11 year old Pat Roberts, who was a cool boy who loved to tease so much that he would take people away from their families to do so, unless they do as they do and one day he gave up playing football with the tough boys to tease a boy who he hates very much, and stop him from being a family person and also brainwashing everyone into thinking a family person is supposed to do as they are told, and one day the wicked witch who really wanted to keep taking these boys decided to go after Pat Roberts and cook him up and then she will get rid if this boy from the would once and for all, but getting rid of Pat Roberts will be a hard thing because this boy is so hard to catch, because he is ever so smart, and it will be a battle to get rid of this Pat Roberts because of that, Pat Roberts would say, no mr witch, you can't catch me fella, you can never catch me for as long as you'll alive, and you are going to die soon if you keep catching kids anyway, the next day on the witch's quest to catch Pat Roberts, she decided to use her ***** magic to try and lure him to his house but Pat Roberts is too smart for that as he kept himself inside saying no witch is going to get me, if you are going to catch me, you'll have to get past my father and I can guarantee old witch that my dad has the power to put you right in her place, you are mrs witch, you haven't got the power to overcome me, so come on wicked witch, just you try and catch me, but you won't get me, I can make you suffer of you try and get me ya wicked witch and the wicked witch straight away thought maybe one day I will catch Pat Roberts, I will try and take some other 11 year olds and the next 11 year old was Gordon Gullet and he was a boy who was a bit of a black sheep who went on a mission to **** the wicked witch but when the wicked witch captured him, but she had no plan to cook him  up, actually she planned to try to get him on side to catch Pat Roberts and when Gordon said, I won't tell you where Gordon is, I will never tell you where he is. Just let me go ya old cranky wicked witch, and because Gordon was talking too much the witch put her hand on her mouth, she eventually had to put sticky tape on it and then the wicked witch said, if you don't tell me where Pat Roberts is, you'll suffer, and I mean you'll suffer, mate, suffer forever mate.
The next day when the witch got up and saw Gordon trying up escape and the witch said, mate, you'll never escape from me, no you'll never escape, until you tell me where is your friend Pat Roberts, and Gordon said no, I won't ever tell ya, you will have to **** me first, Pat Roberts is a friend, no, I will never ever tell you, ya wicked witch, and the witch said no I ain't going to **** you, I just want you to tell you where Pat Roberts is, why won't you tell me, I will be your friend forever, and Gordon said, no, I won't tell you anything you old fucken witch, and you can do to me anything you want, I will never ever tell you, you mean nasty old witch.
The witch then said, ok, you will stay there in that cage till you tell me and when you are ready to tell me where your friend Pat Roberts is, I will make you suffer, even if I don't **** you, you will be suffering without anything to make you keep your mojo in tact, you will suffer Gordon, I will make sure of that, so unless you tell me where your mate is, you will suffer, and be kept there until you tell us of the whereabouts of Pat Roberts because I want you and him to cooked together and eaten, and if you don't tell me, I will keep you here for the rest of your life, so Gordon are you going to tell me and Gordon yells out with a loud voice, which went,  NEVER, my mate Pat Roberts wants to tease people who are trying to work to hard and push themselves into breaking point, and I want you to let me go, because I am tougher that you, cause you are a mean nasty witch, who should burn on the planet Mercury and the witch said no, mate, say hell, you see you are still a little Christian boy, and while you have your beliefs that you will die one day, you are like us, but if I find out that you are keeping the whereabouts of Pat Roberts from me, I will hold you at knife point and force you to tell you and Gordon said no, I will never tell you, never, I will prefer to do die myself, rather than tell you where he is mate.
The next day the witch went out to try and catch Pat Roberts and then Pat's dad said to Pat Roberts that he will protect him and when they heard a strange noise outside their house and it was the wicked witch, who was lurking about outside and when Pat Roberts went outside, the witch put a hand over his mouth and said I have you mate and then the FBI came and despite a desperate fight to get herself free, the FBI took off to Salem to get burnt at the stake and Pat Roberts and Gordon was safely going home with his family and the witch was reincarnated as a pig and then a tiger and after that a deer, she suffered, especially when she will be constantly bullied by hunters.
Dan Kastner Nov 2012
My mind is constantly occupied by the demons of my past and the omens of my future.
Waging an impossible war, causing sickness, and torturing my conscience without remorse.
I can hear the screaming of the casualties as I take one more sip, hit, or push.
Begging for me to stop, but at the same time thanking me for the temporary numbness

I can feel my heart exploding in my chest,
as if it were trying to free itself from the slavery it is experiencing.
Beat after beat it continues to grow weary and unsympathetic,
Trudging through the chemicals and unrelentless lovers.
all the while receiving no attention or appreciation.

I can feel my soul, beautiful and full of life.
As old as they come, with more stories than I would probably care to hear.
Wise and wounded, healed and broken again.
Becoming tougher and more layered
much like the act of crafting an authentic samurai sword.
Swift and elegant. Waiting to escape this imperfect body
only to move onto another puppet of which it will guide and personalize.

The beauty of these three broken and bruised vigilantes working in total harmony is the most beautiful and awe-inspiring thing I have ever come to know.
I am greatful until the end, whenever that may be.
I will enjoy the life that they have given me,
and I will spread that energy to those in need of it.
As ***** and tired as they may be,
it is more than most will ever have the opportunity to experience
Allen Wilbert Jan 2014
Superhero

I have a pipe and dark sunglasses,
taking names and kicking some *****.
I'm a powerless superhero,
they call me Captain De Niro.
Owe me money, you better pay,
or pain will be on your way.
You better not be selling drugs,
or my lead pipe will give severe hugs.
Don't be ****** any innocent women,
will be breaking your hands and fingers, all ten.
Molesting kids and you don't wanna know,
the dumpster, your ***** I will throw.
I don't allow any peeping or stalking,
with broken legs, there will be no walking.
I'm one of those modern day vigilantes,
on my head, I wear my wife's *******.
Can't leap a building in a single bound,
like you, I get dizzy when spun around.
Can't go under water and summon fish,
I prefer them on my eating dish.
No fancy car or a sidekick,
but my pipe can break a brick.
Don't have an invisible jet,
like you, I'm in deep debt.
People have no idea who I am,
I might be Steve, I might be Sam.
Just a man who hates violence,
I hate people that are spineless.
I catch bank robbers in the act,
the odd against them are fully stacked.
I help keep crime off the streets,
can't count the number of villain defeats.
The evil witch is after the 11 year olds


Once upon a time there was an evil witch,, and this witch was like no witch i n any fairy tales, no this witch was pure evil, you see she took pride in grabbing 11 year old kids avid locking themselves in the basement to eventually chop them up and put them in an oven, to give herself a feast, the first kid was young a 11 year old boy named Tommy Kinarfis and he was on his way to school and he was just minding his own business when this black car pulled up and before Tommy could run away, the witch grabbed him and shoved him in the boot of his car and being as scared as he was, Tommy really didn't want to die, and tried to bang the the walls of the boot to show that he has been kidnapped but nobody heard him and before he knew it, he found himself locked up in a cage being fattened up, so the witch can eat him up, and after about 12 hours Tommy was dead, and the witch was happy, the next kid was 11 year old daughter of president Frederick Leonardo, you see this president was so conservative and everyone was too scared to do anything bad to his kid, but one day when the presidents daughter, who was named Terri was waiting for her body guard after school when this car turned up and this man got out pretending to be her bodyguard one day, and after 2 hours of driving Terri realised that she has been kidnapped, and then the bodyguard took off his nice disguise and when Terri noticed it was the witch, she tried to escape but soon enough she was locked in her cage being fattened up, so the witch can enjoy her feast, and the presidents daughter Terri was dead and the president had a little burial for her.
The next kid was 11 year old Peter Vernin and he was a kid who loves sport, especially the AFL, because that was a boys sport, and Peter had it in his mind that because he played AFL, he will he invincible but as he was going to footy training, he had to walk because his parents had to work, a ******* car pulled up and this man pulled up and asked Peter if he would like a ride, and Peter, being only 11 said yes thinking he was being treated like a kid that everyone liked, but then he found himself chained up in the witch's basement ready to be slaughtered at any given time, you see because Tommy had muscles, that was enough to make him be nice and tender to eat and when the witch finds out that he had suffered enough, then the witch will cook Tommy up and before he knew it, Tommy was just a corpse and the witch was feeling very happy and this made her feel she can slowly get rid of each child as soon as they reached 11, and she was feeling like nobody will ever stop her from accomplishing this feat.
The FBI are having a hard time trying to find there missing kids because they just vanished without a trace, but they had every officer and forensic investigator in to try to catch the witch and make her pay, mind you the FBI were unaware that the persons responsible is a wicked evil witch.
The next kid was Raymond Terrestal, an 11 year old who was in a broken home and every day he went to the local shops to buy milk for the family but also he would occasionally steal a chocolate bar and also a few flavoured milks, and the witch said to herself that this boy needs to chopped him up and watch his shiny white legs slowly turn to very tasty meat. Even though Raymond put up a fight, saying you can't chop me up, fella, I am a sports boy and I have heaps of muscles, but the witch told him that the muscles make him even more tastier, and she wants to have Raymond to really taste nice so he can really get away from any way of being a sports boy, and as Raymond was cooking, he is yelling and yelling, saying, let me go, I am a big tough sports boy, I like playing footy, I don't wanna die, let me go and leave me alone old witch, but the witch said heh heh heh hen heh, no buddy you ain't a cool kid, all the other kids are tough, but you Raymond, no you are all mine, and Raymond was screaming, please save me from the wicked witch, And he also said why me, why me, why me, and the witch said, no mate your not like us,mate
You are still a little shy boy, and I am just doing what The Lord wants, you see Raymond, The Lord wants me to cook boys up when they turn 11, because then they are even more tender because they are mature enough so I get a good tasty bit of human flesh, and eventually Raymond died and the witch continued on her journey to rid the world of kids right till they turn 11 years of age.
The next kid was 11 years old Naomi Roberts who was a really family and friends type of girl and she very rarely strayed away., but one day she and her friends played outside the witch's house, because it was a pretty good place for kids to play in but unknown to Naomi that her friends were playing a trick on her and had planned to get her stuck in the bushes near the mail box and when the witch went outside to see what the noise was, she saw Naomi stuck in the garden trying to break free, and the witch used her powers to make her look like a nice old lady and brought Naomu inside to keep her safe, then the witch showed her true colours and told Naomi that she will never escape from her, and she also said she is hosting a dinner party and Naomi is the main course and from the moment she said that Naomi started to get scared and screamed and screamed for the witch to let her go, she also said it's not she that the witch wants, it's her friends, who stabbed Naomi in the back and the witch said, no they are young women and I don't want to **** young women, it's you, who I want, little girlie, and you are never going to ever escape from me, and Naomi said no Mrs Witch, you will be with me till my dinner party and then Naomi you will be no more. You will leave this world never to return little baby little girlie, Naomi is very scared and starts to feel like her perfect world is about to end because the wicked witch has her right where she wants her.
Naomi was trying to scream so loud that the witch's neighbour would hear and come and rescue her but nobody can hear her and Naomi starts to get very scared, so scared in fact, she tried to fight her way out of the cage but it is closed so tightly and Naomi is starting to get scared because still the FBI have no leads on the whereabouts of these kids, and despite being bullied by the parents of the missing kids, they feel tempted to give up the search till they get a lead, simply because there is no point in trying to find a needle in a haystack, but the parents wanted them to find their missing kids, even if it means they have to become vigilantes and defy the law and find those kids themselves, meanwhile the next day in the witch's house, the witch was starting to cook Naomi up so they can have their dinner party, a nice tasty little girl for dinner, heh heh heh heh heh heh heh, and when Naomi was slowly dying the witch kept of stirring and stirring to make Naomi really suffer, you see for the witch, well, she took pride in torturing kids as soon as they turn 11, and then Naomi died and the witch was happy and said that is another 11 year old under our belt, heh heh heh heh heh
The next kid was 11 year old Pat Roberts, who was a cool boy who loved to tease so much that he would take people away from their families to do so, unless they do as they do and one day he gave up playing football with the tough boys to tease a boy who he hates very much, and stop him from being a family person and also brainwashing everyone into thinking a family person is supposed to do as they are told, and one day the wicked witch who really wanted to keep taking these boys decided to go after Pat Roberts and cook him up and then she will get rid if this boy from the would once and for all, but getting rid of Pat Roberts will be a hard thing because this boy is so hard to catch, because he is ever so smart, and it will be a battle to get rid of this Pat Roberts because of that, Pat Roberts would say, no mr witch, you can't catch me fella, you can never catch me for as long as you'll alive, and you are going to die soon if you keep catching kids anyway, the next day on the witch's quest to catch Pat Roberts, she decided to use her ***** magic to try and lure him to his house but Pat Roberts is too smart for that as he kept himself inside saying no witch is going to get me, if you are going to catch me, you'll have to get past my father and I can guarantee old witch that my dad has the power to put you right in her place, you are mrs witch, you haven't got the power to overcome me, so come on wicked witch, just you try and catch me, but you won't get me, I can make you suffer of you try and get me ya wicked witch and the wicked witch straight away thought maybe one day I will catch Pat Roberts, I will try and take some other 11 year olds and the next 11 year old was Gordon Gullet and he was a boy who was a bit of a black sheep who went on a mission to **** the wicked witch but when the wicked witch captured him, but she had no plan to cook him  up, actually she planned to try to get him on side to catch Pat Roberts and when Gordon said, I won't tell you where Gordon is, I will never tell you where he is. Just let me go ya old cranky wicked witch, and because Gordon was talking too much the witch put her hand on her mouth, she eventually had to put sticky tape on it and then the wicked witch said, if you don't tell me where Pat Roberts is, you'll suffer, and I mean you'll suffer, mate, suffer forever mate.
The next day when the witch got up and saw Gordon trying up escape and the witch said, mate, you'll never escape from me, no you'll never escape, until you tell me where is your friend Pat Roberts, and Gordon said no, I won't ever tell ya, you will have to **** me first, Pat Roberts is a friend, no, I will never ever tell you, ya wicked witch, and the witch said no I ain't going to **** you, I just want you to tell you where Pat Roberts is, why won't you tell me, I will be your friend forever, and Gordon said, no, I won't tell you anything you old fucken witch, and you can do to me anything you want, I will never ever tell you, you mean nasty old witch.
The witch then said, ok, you will stay there in that cage till you tell me and when you are ready to tell me where your friend Pat Roberts is, I will make you suffer, even if I don't **** you, you will be suffering without anything to make you keep your mojo in tact, you will suffer Gordon, I will make sure of that, so unless you tell me where your mate is, you will suffer, and be kept there until you tell us of the whereabouts of Pat Roberts because I want you and him to cooked together and eaten, and if you don't tell me, I will keep you here for the rest of your life, so Gordon are you going to tell me and Gordon yells out with a loud voice, which went,  NEVER, my mate Pat Roberts wants to tease people who are trying to work to hard and push themselves into breaking point, and I want you to let me go, because I am tougher that you, cause you are a mean nasty witch, who should burn on the planet Mercury and the witch said no, mate, say hell, you see you are still a little Christian boy, and while you have your beliefs that you will die one day, you are like us, but if I find out that you are keeping the whereabouts of Pat Roberts from me, I will hold you at knife point and force you to tell you and Gordon said no, I will never tell you, never, I will prefer to do die myself, rather than tell you where he is mate.
The next day the witch went out to try and catch Pat Roberts and then Pat's dad said to Pat Roberts that he will protect him and when they heard a strange noise outside their house and it was the wicked witch, who was lurking about outside and when Pat Roberts went outside, the witch put a hand over his mouth and said I have you mate and then the FBI came and despite a desperate fight to get herself free, the FBI took off to Salem to get burnt at the stake and Pat Roberts and Gordon was safely going home with his family and the witch was reincarnated as a pig and then a tiger and after that a deer, she suffered, especially when she will be constantly bullied by hunters.
My revenge is spelt with a "J"
and it comes from the mouths
of lawyers and judges
and vigilantes who seem to think
that they can spread their so called "Justice"
to the entire world
with nothing but a pocket knife
and determination.

My oppression is spelt with an "F"
and it comes from the mouths
of politicians and protesters
and just about anyone
who will call for "Freedom"
to their family and friends
despite not really knowing
what it is.

My ignorance is spelt with a "B"
and it comes from the mouths
of hedonists and grandparents
and teenagers
who would rather carry artificial bliss
than try to make it
so that they can truly be happy
with the world as it is.

My love is spelt with an "L"
and it comes from the mouths
of everyone
be they doctors or murders
or mothers or children
and it is spelt love
for that it all that it is
and could ever be.
Yenson Nov 2018
A journo aware, equally at home in Palaces, Halls or the streets
Trained to vision duplicity slants and angles and know the crux
Able to see the story behind the story behind the story and more
In ethics robed proudly while mendacity and shenanigans cry shy
Show me the Dai Lama in a crack den or Bill Gates ******* in Goa

Semi demi illiterates with joined-up thinking or unthinking
Immatures lacking emotional intelligence or gainful statures
In groupthink mired settles on group delusions in vicissitudes
We're programming or flooding seeds of doubts or confusing
As if maladroit fantasies are gospels not simpletons' chicanery

Dismissives sad dolts duly outflanked and outclassed inherently
Ignoramuses crude and coarse in true form lacking introspection
Wear disgrace proudly in persistence and parade idiocy fittingly
Strength in numbers neither nullifying stupidity or indignities
Indulgent cowards and sick gate-keeps of unearned entitlements

Nonentities, rabble rousers shamed vigilantes in emotional dearth
Claiming and luxuriating in the depravities of their deficiencies
I remain what I am and no apologies necessary for august status
Your diminutive deeds merely reflects your statures and intellects
Little minds already condemn you to suicides of real aspirations



CopyrightLaurenceA6thNov2018.allrightsreserved
Blue Butterflies Oct 2022
Midnight,
And the pale moon over my head,
My lonely nights and
Memories haunting me like a wolf
Ferocious and hungry.

Midnight,
And a vast forest of yew trees
Darkness and silence,
And an owl watching like a ghost.
Amidst the darkness I found a voice:
‘I’ll love you forever, if you let me’.

Midnight,
And vigilantes with wide eyes.
I never knew what to do
With the unconnected clues,
But you would always
Ask the right questions.

Midnight,
And a faithless heart like mine
That saw monsters and terrors.
My heart like a cold star in the distance.
But you held me close
And put me in the moss
With a blanket of new,
unrecognised, kindness

Midnight,
And a reason to be alive:
I have finally found a place to rest.
Like a meteor you broke into my space
And I was surprised to notice
How lovely it is
To rely on someone
So completely.

It was midnight,
When I realised:
I am here,
I can breathe,
And I can finally love.
Tyrone Tuliao May 2017
Shoutout to the unsung heroes!
Whose noble swords still rise higher and higher
In this world where broken shields are dire
We disregard our weapons of steel. Oh,
And bards who sing of loot and money
Gems, precious stones, and gold a-plenty
Perhaps if I sing of these unheard vigilantes
The world would be so very jaunty!

Fame, loot, tales and territories;
Unsung heroes have never earned any of these
Despite all efforts to bring about justice,
Despite dispelling all forms of avarice…
Alas, no recognition to lay up front!
No form of appreciation, only gaunt…
Gaunt expressions, an unwelcome chanting of desolation
That's what an unsung hero faces - tribulations.

But look at the bright side!
The future isn't dark, nor no grim eventide
I will sing of these unsung heroes
In short, sweet verses as mementos
For that fleeting moment in time
When they took up the courage to halt crime.
So again, I'm calling out to all the unsung heroes!
Who rose from the bottom the others called zero.
Just thought I'd make this one for all of those people who were never given recognition for their humble actions. Nothing special :^)
Tyler King Nov 2016
0.
Friends, lovers,  co-conspirators, criminals, junkies, artists, vigilantes, killers and heroes and the ghosts that haunt all indiscriminate, I write this in your blood, for you alone,

I.
I saw you each to each pressed together in a crucible, growing callouses in a garden of fire, fingernails black from digging the harvest of ashes, and when the lord came near you boarded your windows and cocked your guns because you could no longer hold stock in a strangers promise of love, not since your father branded his name into the tender skin of your back and told you, you are only as good as what you own in this country, and by covenant you belong to me now, some nights you still see his face in clouds of smoke when the cold chill of predetermined destiny kisses the back of your neck, other nights you watch the sky and wonder which parts of you will be left when the birds have had their fill

II.
Mercy and desperation,
Concentric circles divided by zero around a sacrificial pyre,
Something here cannot coexist,
Something here has to break to fit,
In longing the martyr dies never knowing what for, and in sacrament he is chewed up and spat out
In longing the basin fills, and in sacrament it breaks to flood the earth
In longing I carve out my insides, and in sacrament they will call me a museum
That is to say, the difference between a museum and a graveyard is a still beating heart

III.
Lear looked among his children and saw only sharpened knives,
Castro looked out over the ocean and saw only crosshairs,
I look out over the city and see only cupped hands,
Our grandfathers could level nations to prove a point and our grandmothers could only cower before men of such rage and power,
Make no mistake, these streets have witnessed genocide and remained passive,
Driving fast down these empty roads after midnight, you can almost make out an apology from the wind,
She says,
You have to understand what it's like to be gutted in appeasement,
You have to understand what it's like to become deadly against your will

IV.
In dreams a vision of Ginsberg, playing chess with his demons on the fifth day of a three day psych ward stay
Vision of Plath setting fire to her own head rather than have its contents laid bare,
Vision of Wolfe watching trains roll by paralyzed by fear of the future and his own hand in it,
Vision of Van Gogh unable to express love in any way other than to destroy himself
Vision of Virginia atop the lighthouse demanding payment for the transgressions against her
Vision of the poet as a saint performing miracles after death, vision of the poet as the archetype of madness realized, vision of the poet as divine mouth and unholy ghost, vision of the poet writing his own obituary and praying for silence

V.
We are blessed with the ability to tear down our monuments when they no longer stand for us,
We are blessed because we can justify anything we destroy
When Jacob's time came they carried him to Canaan and the Lion of Judah went on to fill its stomach with the blood of anything innocent it could sink its teeth in,
I take this to mean that there are some hungers that can only be sated by devouring everything you believe in
But what do I know,
I am a crown without a king
I am not much for devotion
I pick up the pieces of the monuments that once stood here and I sanctify them in hopes that one day this will mean something,
And if that day ever comes,
We will live again inside of something everlasting,
And until then,
I will carry this with me wherever I go
It's the least I can do
Terry O'Leary Oct 2014
.
            1. Big Brother
Big Brother's protecting his mice
with a secret eavesdropping device.
          If you hang up the phone
          he'll just send in a drone
when a warrant won't really suffice.

2. Neutrality
The internet's meant to be free,
yes for all, such as you, such as me.
          But now there's some doubt -
          will it lose all its clout
with the death of neutrality's spree?

3. Privacy
'twas surely our forefather's dread
all our emails would someday be read.
Now that push comes to shove
by the powers above,
private thoughts must now stay in our head.

4. Guantanamo
Guantanamo bay's a resort
where the fishing's a fabulous sport -
with your back on a board
tepid water is poured
spawning tales for a kangaroo court.

5. Banks
To bountiful bailouts give thanks
for there's nothing much richer than banks -
making money galore
taking homes from the poor
while they're managing mortgaging pranks.

6. Health
If you live in the States don't get sick
(lest a cut of the upper class clique).
Whether injured or ill
all they'll give you's a pill -
if you're lucky you'll surely die quick.

7. Economy
Our economy's doing just fine
lying dead with a slug in the spine.
So come follow the call
where there's money for all
and pure profit's the bottom-most line.

8. Safety
Vigilantes and cops are wide spread -  
as for justice… not even a shred.
The avengers of right
score when stalking the night
so beware of a cap in the head.
Tori Jurdanus Jul 2013
One.
Beautiful and young. Wise in the worst ways possible,
You took your own life by hanging yourself in the shower.
Your mother, clawing at splintered wood to reach you.

Two.
They said it was your fault.
That when four boys tugged you up the stairs to play Red Light, Green Light with your body,
You should have known they were colour-blind.
You should have known they would not stop.

Three.
We grew up in the same town, through the same years, with the same people
I never once say your face, or the picture they released of you, bent over, sick, on a window sill.
But I remember the first time I heard your name, the day they took you off life support.

Four.
They call you Angel now that you're gone.
They say our school was where we tried to clip your wings.
I wish I could say that was my doing.
I wish I could say that if I had been the one with the scissors,
you would have stayed. Grounded.
Icarus would never have fallen had I been the one to hold him back

Five.
I see your face in every stranger.

Six.
I hesitate before saying your name like its a curse word and there is a child standing next to me.

Seven.
I am getting tired of retelling your story over and over with the details no one else seems to hear and being expected to feel guilty for a crime I did not commit.

Eight.
I know it's not your fault,
You were a hard pill to swallow and were spit back out so many times it started to taste bitter.
But the world left over has scared compassion away with death threats to people we both thought we lovedbecause no one can figure out who to blame.

Nine..
I don't want to hate you.
But every negative feeling I have, towards the boys, the camera, towards locked doors and street corner gossip is wrapped up in you.
Your death has woven itself through friendships and titles and torn apart everything I thought could make me feel safe;
replaced it with vigilantes out for blood, replaced it with a hatred I didn't know exsisted.

Just look at what you've left us with.

Ten.
I wish you were here.
I wish I could meet you, have something other to hold onto than this.

Other than saying home and knowing they hear danger zone
I say nothing. They do not forget. You remind them of where I am from.

You have tainted every cherished memory, discredited every word this Cole Harbour **** could ever say.

Its where we tried to grow up,
Its where I found myself while you lost yours
But I learned to take pride in where I'm from
And I cannot apologize.
Julian Apr 2023
4/14/2023
https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/l8njruxa73yee9b0jzmhd/The-Ultimate-Unabridged-Guide-to-Esoteric-Working-English-2.docx?­rlkey=kunoar7ghpfkb7fjk5xkdgx95&st=i84ornny&dl=0

JERBOA NEKTON SYNAPHEA BRIMBORIONS SCOWLING AT FRIGHTED PARASELENES OF THE DARKEST DIMMEST SATURNINE JANSKY OF JANITRICES ENDOWED WITH THE NOMOGENY OF FUTURE NOMENCLATORS THAT SWERVE WITH NOTAPHILY BECAUSE OF  NOTITIA ATTEMPT THEIR GALLANT  NICCOLIC GAMBOLS AND SPRAUNCY SPECULAR RETROMORPHOSIS OF PHUGOID VISAGISTS URANOPLASTY ELECTS TO THE OBSOLAGNIUM OF DIESTRUS AMONG HEAVENLY AUDIENCES ENRICHING THE HEGUMENES OF EARTH WITH THE WIDDERSHANCY AGAINST WIDGEONS BECAUSE THE WAPENSHAW SCAMMONY OF STEPNEYS OF STEMSON REGARD THE ZALKENGUR OF GAINSAY IN RENGALL COMEUPPANCE ARE MASTERATE MATACHINS DANCING WITH TERPSICHOREAN CACOETHES BECAUSE OF CALUMETS OF CORTEGE BLANDISHMENTS EXCEL AT TRANSFORMATIVE REVALORIZATION RATHER THAN REGELATION BY CLEPSYDRA HONORS CERACEOUS TROPISMS IN THE VINSKY OF SHIBBOLETH THAT A KAPSTONE PAPER SOCIETY GRIDLOCKED BY THROTTLEBOTTOMS OF MELOPEPON MENSURATION IN RIVETED AUDISM FOR THE COMPLEX TRUTINATION OF THE CERBERIC WILL OF DEMASSIFICATION IN THE CNICNODES OF CTETOLOGY THAT EMPOWER NASONS WITH NASUTE INDOLENCE IMPUDENT ONLY UPON TAMBURITZAS OF TANGORECEPTORS AMONG THE FLOCKS OF MEN BECAUSE THEY FEAR THE NORSELS OF NEMBUTSU THAT ANOINTED ESBATS WITH A PEDIGREE OF CHICANERY AROUND THE MORSES OF VARSAL HEGEMONY OF WHELKY BEATEN BY WALLETEERS SPARING IN TIMES OF FAMINE THE STRAIN IN TIMES OF DESICCATED THIRST IN THE GEOSCOPY OF THE DELIVERANCE OF PYCNOSTYLE PYRETOLOGY TO BECOME FREESTANDING CETACEAN CAMBERS THAT AVOID THE CAIMANS LIKE THEIR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT TO ESTABLISH A VESTIGIAL VENTANA UPON THE VARDLES OF ALL FINESSE IN “CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT”MIKE BOSSY BOSE THAT SPURTLED OFTEN IN THE FAMIGERATION OF WRIKPOND RINKOMANIA SUCH THAT RUBEFACTION IN TRITANOPIA OR MULIEBRITY IN PROTANOPIA MIGHT STORGE THE SALMAGUNDI OF THE BORTS OF THE SARSENET SOCIETY OF COMPOSURE REGALING COMFORTS THAT “THE CREATURE WALKS”PRANCES WITH A DILATORY CALCULUS IN BALEFIRE SUCH THAT THE BOWDLERIZATION OF POTAMOLOGY FOR SQUARSON REGARD IN ABRAXAS SYNERGY FORESEEN BY VENTRAD CHIRKS OF ANTI-HEROS BECOMING VENDETTA VIGILANTES OF THE BRONTEUM OF PLUTOMANIA SUCH THAT NEGOTIOSITY BECOMES A TRIFLE OF THE CLORENCE OF CEPHALIGATION NEWLY INVENTED INTO STREAMLINED TIMMYNOGGIES THE WASTRELS AND WASE OF BARNSTORM THAT UPON THE SERENADE OF LINCOLNS LAST STROLLS OF PURPRESTURE IN THE INCONVENIENCE OF PRE-GALVANIZATION FOR THE DURAMEN TO TRICOTEE WASSAILING THE FORTUNES OF WELDS OF WELLAWAY WANGS AND KENSPECKEL SATURATION OF FLUMINOUS FOGRAM FILEMOTS IN CASEFIED CORDWAINERS THAT AFFIX THEIR STEPWISE CLIMB INTO IMPARLANCE IMPAVID BECAUSE OF THE KLENDUSIC SURVIVAL OF THE VEES AND MOULIN ROUGE GLACIOLOGY OF ARCTICIANS SURMOUNT A SPECULATIVE SPATTEE THAT IS LOUDLY WAILING AND BEMOANING THE ANTIPODES OBLATED IN THEIR OWN NACREOUS NAGORS OF NEMBUTSU CAVERNOUS IN THEIR CHUCKWALLA ACCLAIM OF THIGMOTAXIS FOR MIGNONS OF CHIRAPSIA SPARRING AGAINST THE UPSTART PRESBYTERY CUT AWAY AND RESECTIONED ENDLESSLY IN THE MARAUD OF BENIGHTED KNIGHTS SURVEYING THE EMPTY EXPANSE OF QUIDCUNX OF COLORATION SOLVING THE EQUIPOISE OF STOCKINETTE SUCH THAT  RADICALISM BY BLESBOKS IS STERNLY REPRIMANDED BY THE STERNWAY OF EQUESTRIAN SYNCOPATION UPON BEBLUBBERED ATRABILIARY ABAXIAL CONUNDRUMS THE SALVATION OF THE FEW AND THE FAMISH OF THE POISON IVY SOCIETIES OF COGNOSCENTI RHIZOGENIC TO ALL SURDS AND SURDOMUTE SURQUEDRIES SUCH THAT BLAZING CONFLAGRATION OF BONHOMIE BONFIRES ALWAYS ENTITLES THE WHIFFETS AND WHIPSTAFF OF THE WAPENTAKE OF THE REJOINDER GENERATION TO EXALT AND EXCEL DESPITE PRIMORDIAL IGNOMINIES ESTABLISHED BY EMOTIVISM BECAUSE THE EISOPTROMANIA OF ONE IS THE PANOPTICON TO MANY A SECRET TROVE AND MORE VIKING MARAUDERS OF THE DISTANT APOSTIL TO APOSTLESHIP DEFINING THE SOTERIOLOGY OF MAGNANIMITY BARMCLOTHS OF BARMASTERS IN THE OLD BRIQUET ARRANGEMENT OF HOLOCRYPTIC HOLTS BECOMES STRIGINE ONLY IN LAMBENT ALPENGLOW TWILLS OF BOREALIS TEMPER AND THE PHLEGMATIC HUMOR OF THE TEDIUM OF THE PRETECHNOLOGICAL ARGALI OF MASTERWORKS BY MOUNTENANCE ALONE SCURFY IN THE HALLSWALLOP OF “PRINCE OF JERUSALEM”CELLARERS IN THE MAMMOCK OF DEPREDATION SWERVING FROM INCOHERENCE IN DRIVEL TO THE LIVELIHOOD OF THE SAINTS UPON THEIR MORTAL METENSOMATOSIS BECAUSE OF MALABATHRUM ATTEMPTS TO BECOME INVICTIVE IN FUTURE SCENARIO FOR WILDING ALBENTURE THAT DISCOVERS ALL WOOLFELL MALAPERT QUANDARIES OF JAWHOLE AND JATO SUCH THAT STREAMLINED MILITARIES IMBREVIATED CENOTES OF CENTROBARIC COBALTIFEROUS COMBUVIROUS CHERNOZEMS OF THE ARTICULATE FRINGES OF THE EXTRAMUNDANE SHALLOPED UPON THE EARTH AND JOGGLING WITH EACH SEISMIC SVEDBERG ROLLICKING THE ROIL OF ROORBACKS OF ROARING 20S VERDURE MIGHT THE SCAPPLE OF SOVENANCE AND THE VEILLEUSES THAT DEPEND ON WHEATENS OF MUGIENCE BASED ON SQUAMATION AND WAINAGE FROM WANIGANS THAT THE NEXILITY OF FUTURE GROMATIC PRECISION ALIGNS THE SYZYGY OF GALLANT GAMESMANSHIP FOR PLACKIQUES OF THE PLECKIGGER TO ASSUME A SUBERIC VALUE IN THE VAULT OF NOSTALGIA THAT ENTOMBS TO MANY AUDISMS OF IAMATOLOGY FOR IATRALIPTIC ASCERTAINED CERTAINTIES OF SOCKDOLAGER TO SUBSUME A TYRANNY OF CUCULINE AND CUNICULOUS SWARF SPAWNED UPON THE ARENEIDAN ARENOIDS THAT SURVIVE AMONG THE LAST REGNANT HUMANISM RECENSED ON BRACHYDACTYLOUS REVANCHE TO THE ELLIPSOIDS OF TURBINATED BUT TUBIFACIENT PIRACY OF CONTEMPORARY REVELATIONS UPON THE ENGROSSED BOX OFFICE SOCIETIES THAT SCAFFOLD TO THE PINNACLE THE ABRAXAS OF ALBATROSS TRUSTS OF JALOUSIES OF CAMBERS BELONGING TO THE HIGHER ORDERS OF HISTORICAL REFINEMENT BECAUSE OF THEIR FLAIRS IGNOVIMOUS UPON THE PAST IN MASTERY OF BUSHWHACKER FUTURISM THAT BEAMS WITH BARNSTORM AND STEAM ENGINES THE WAY FOR CALVERS EVEN WHEN CALVOUS TO MOUNT EMOLUMENT AND PILOT AGAINST PILATES OF OUR MODERN AGE IN THEIR LASSITUDE AND LACHRYMOSE LAODICEAN AGATHISMS SUCH THAT ENDANGERED GLEBES ORBITING THE HYPAETHRAL GLANCE AND LEER OF LEARY TRAMONTANE WHERRETS OF RASPY TEARS BEMOANING THE SQUINTIFEGOS THAT BELEAGUER THEMSELVES ON “BLUEPRINTS OF THE BLACK MARKET” “24K MAGIC”SOCIETIES THAT SIMPER AMONG THE REST AS SUPREME PROMACHOS ENTILTING THE FUTURE TO WOBBLE IN SYNCOPATION WITH HETEROCHRONY ITSELF SUCH AS AITCHBONES AND THE CORDWAINER ADVOWSONS WHO UNDERSTAND THE THERMODYNAMICS OF RACIAL STRIFE MUST HEAL OUR DIVISIONS TO RECLAIM THE LAND OF DEPREDATED JAMDANIS SUCH THAT YELEKS OF YARAKS BECOME THE HABITUES OF EVERY CAVERNILOQUY OWNED BY EVERY STANJANT MUSEUM OF ATHENAEUM IN SUPEREROGATORY FRUITION. SEMAPHORES OF ACCOLENT ABATJOUR ANOINT THE MASONS OF OUR TIME THROUGH SUBLIME CURRENCY SUGGESTIONS THAT REIFY THE HYPOSTASIS AGAINST HYPOCRISY BECAUSE TOO MANY WIDGEONS ARE DELUDED BY THE HENOTHEISM OF MISGUIDED BAHUVHRIS OF SECULAR BEDIZENED DENIZENS OF GINNELS AMONG RUDENTURE GIMCRACKS SUCH THAT STARVELING IGNOMINY BECOMES THE STEEPEST CLAMBER IN DILATORY ANFRACTUOUSNESS BLATTERNOPHONES OF BACILISUM SUPINE IN INTERREGNUM THE OBROGATION OF THE VESTIGIAL PROMONTORY OF MARTINGALE BECAUSE OF PROFOUND JASPERATED DESPERATION AMONG JARVEYING WORLDS ORCHESTRATED BY PRIMIPARAS OF SIMULTAGNOSIA SUCH THAT SCENOGRAPHY OF DYSCHROA OFTEN SUBSUME THE BRUNT OF THE WORK OF CONSCIENTIOUS ATTEMPTS TO REFORM THE COLLEGIAL ESTEEM OF GRADGRIND STATOLITHS THAT AFFLICT THE FEWER LIMACINE CATAPLEXIES RATHER THAN CEMENTUM BURROWED INTO HYPOGEIODY’S BLINDEST INSTINCTS INFORMED BY HEAPSTEADS OF STAMMERING STANNARIES SUCH THAT THE CEILOMETERS OF CELSITUDE BECOME AN ARTIFACT NOT MERELY OF OUR HUBRIS BUT OUR TOTEMIC CONCERN FOR SUBALTERN MEGALOGRAPHY THAT CAESARAPROPRISM SLELLUMS IN MODERATION OF MODALISM AROUND KINGS AND QUEENS OF THE “NO SLEEP UNTIL BROOKLYN”SECRECY BECAUSE THE WORLD IS ONLY YOURS WHEN THE BORDARS OF BARKENTINE TITRATING AN ATTEMPERED SOCIETAL TRIAGE TO SWAPE WITH MAJORITARIAN HUES A COBBLED CONTRAPLEX SOLUTION TO THE ACCIDIA RATHER THAN EUPRAXIA AMONG THE ARRIVISTES OF VIRILITY CONSOLED AND CAJOLED BY A COMPROMISE OF PATRIARCHY TO THE ECCLESIASTICAL RENEWAL OF MULIEBRITY TO STOP SLEEK MAXIMALISM IN THE LAXISM OF PERVERSE LOVE AND ASKEW COCARDENS THAT BELONG TO THE REALM OF VENTRALABRAL AMNESIA SUCH THAT THEY STOPE AROUND RHEOTAXIS TO STERNWAY THE CABOOSE OF EVERY CUCULINE MALFUNCTION PRICKLY ON TRIBULOID DIETS OF JAUNDICE SUCH THAT EVENTUAL REPARTEE SEGUES WITH ZALKENGUR OF AGRIOZIATRY THAT FORESEES THE POTENTIAL OF ABAXIAL NAZES AND NAVES TO RAMPART THE NYALAS INTO INDEMNITY BECAUSE OF JINGOISM GONE ASTRAY AND A “VIEW ASKEW”PARODY OF SELF-IMPORTANT RIGORS TO DROWN IN A NOYADE NEVER ABAFT ENOUGH TO SURVIVE THE THROTTLED THREMMATOLOGY OF TOFTS BECOMING SUMPTERS OF SUNBITTERN REGALIA WHICH CAMPAIGN A SYBOTIC LABARUM OF ANNEALED SWANK AND REGIMENTED METAPHORS OF BYWORD ARISTOCRACY MANAGED OFTEN WITH  OVERHAILED FORCE BY NEOPHRONS WHO MISCAST EVERY VILLAINY IN AN ATTEMPT TO SQUELCH INTO SILENCE THE CORYPHAEUS OF CIVILIZED REFORMS IN A SOCIETY BUILT ON SPHACELATED BEAUTY AND RAPACIOUS BOODLE. THE ARGALIS OF GALLIVANTED FREEBOOTERS OF STRICT CABOTAGE IN THE VENOCLYSIS TO THEIR TITRATED ADDICTION TO THE NEW YORK TIMES AFFECT ON MAN LIVE INEVITABLY IN THE SCRUTINY OF PALLOR SUCH THAT ESCAPING THIXOTROPY BY MIGNONS OF NOTAPHILY SUSTAINED BY “HOT TUB TIME MACHINE”RIGORS OF ENTHUSIASM NEVER CURBED BY THE CURGLAFF OF NESCIENT IGNAVIA IN PARVANIMITY SUCH THAT THEIR GENIUS JOCKO BOYAUS OF JOLTERHEADS SQUIRMING IN PISCIFAUNA MIGHT THAT SPAR AGAINST SPARTANISM ITSELF—A PARCHMENT OF THE MOST DELIBERATE WIDGEON SUBVERSION OF PROTANOPIA BECAUSE OF AN INVETERATE TRUST IN BRAINTRUST ALLEGORIES CAVORTING WITH BLUSHING INFAMIES SUCH THAT IMPUDENT GAIN BLAINS THE BLUNGE OF OPERATIVE FULGURANT RATOMORPHISM BECOMING A COSTERMONGER SALVATION OF A TERMINAL TERMINUS BUSBOATING A BUMICKY BADIGEON OF MAGICAL TAGHAIRM THAT ANOINTS DEGREES OF PRESTIGE FOR AN AUTOBAHN STREAMLINE RATHER THAN A MUDDIED ROAD OF ROARING 20S FINIFUGAL CALCIFUGE CALCARIFEROUS CARNALITY INDOLENT UPON RICHES AND INCUMBENT UPON COCARDEN SUCH THAT THE SLAYING TITANS HYDRAHEADED IN FORESIGHT OF THE MACHIAVELLIAN PLOTS BY NECROTYPES AGAINST NECROLOGUES BUT OK WITH THE LYCEUM OF MORTIFEROUS MORTMAINS TO BROOK STREAMLINED REPUGNANCE MIGHT EVENTUALLY ALABASTER IVORY TOWER VERDURE OF THE BOSCHVELDT CHARGE THE PROPER CHIMINAGE FOR CHIMNEYS OF THE WHIMPER OF THE MASCARON IN THE FETED “ARMY OF ME”DENTICLES AND FORSOOTH THE GAINSAY OF TITANISM OF DWIZZENED BRUTALITY MIGHT SUCCOR THEIR WAY TOWARDS SUSSULTATORY FORESIGHT FLICKERING IN ALPENGLOW VORAGINOUS VISAGISTS OF VRAISEMBLANCE IN THE VUGS OF SAXIFRAGOUS CONTUMELY AND CONTUMACY MET WITH THE DIRIGISME OF LACKADAY RIMOSE STEPNEYS ON THE STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN RATHER THAN THE HIGHWAY TO HELL. WE RAPIDLY PERUSE EVERY TRIBUNE OF BERLINE COMPLICITY IN THE MACARISM OF MACROBIAN LONGEVITY OF PROSPEROUS STREAKS OF BUOYANT TRICOTEES THAT WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER THE SCORIAS OF IMAGINATIVE GLANCES AT FUTURE VIEWERSHIP OF TRICHOSIS IN DURATIVE FORMATION PROMINENT AMONG  DURAMEN STRICKLES THAT SWERVE FROM SWARTH AND RENEW THE PLEDGE TO REMAIN “PEOPLE OF THE BOOK”LASSOING “RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARC”CARRACKS TO THE ENTHUSIASTIC PASTORAULING PURPRESTURE OF INSOUCIANCE THAT GALLOPS FROM PRECIPICE TO APOGEE AND BACK AGAIN IN RETROGRADE LIMELIGHT BLARING BLATTERNOPHONES OF THE “PANOPTICON OF THE MASTER CLOCK”BECAUSE NEMBUTSU BOWS BEFORE GOD AND MAN THAT IS SLIPSHOD IN ITS DIRIGISME IN BERGAMASK CULVERTAGE OF ICEBLINKS OF VERGLAS THAT MEMORIALIZE THE PLIGHT OF THE PRESENT AND THE REMORSE OF THE PAST TO THE INEVITABILITY OF FLASHBANG FUTURISM SUCH THAT SAXHORNS COULD NEVER MORE STRONGLY EXHORT A UNIFIED DEMARCHE RATHER THAN A TILTED TWILL OF TWADDLED HOLOCRYPTIC METEMPIRICAL PLEONASMS THAT REITERATE THE SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECY ALL TO THE GLORY OF THE SAINTS AND ANGELS OF THE HEGUMENE AND THE ROODS THAT RUDELY INTERRUPTED OUR STARLIT DAYDREAM BELIEVING MAZUT AND THE SADDER MAZOPATHIA OF RECKLINGS OF TURTLEBACK SLOWLY BURNING AWAY THEIR FLAMBEAUS OF DELUSION INTO THE PARALYSIS OF GINGLYMUS AMONG THE SYNAPHEA STELLIONS THAT ARE STANDPIPES TOWARDS ALL HUMAN LIBERATION BECAUSE OF NACREOUS CABRILLA SUCH THAT NEVER TOLD BARCAROLES OF THE CAUDLE OF COSSETED CATHEDRA THAT CATHEAD CLOTURE SEEKS TO FINALLY ABRIDGE THE SUFFRAGE OF SUFFERING CONSPUED MINORITIES IN THEIR PLEDGE OF PATRIOTIC ENRICHMENT OF A TRICKLE DOWN SYSTEM OF FATIDICAL FASHIONS NOW IN THE HEYDAY OF  THEIR TRANSPARENCY TO ANOINT THE MESCULONIES THAT WERE STALWART THICKETS OF PRISTINE ASYLUM AND SILENTIUM SUCH THAT THE FEWER WERE INFORMED OF THE GREATER TRAVESTY OF HISTORICAL DEFECTS TOO SUPERNAL AND SUPERLATIVE TO EVER EVADE BY TIME’S HONEST DESIGN. THE STRATEGY OF THROTTLEBOTTOMED WAPENTAKE IN ILKENGOR WITH ILLAQUEATION THAT CANNULAR HEISTS OF CANQUE THAT NOTARIZE THE NOTAPHILY OF NOTITIA IN NICCOLIC DEMUR SUCH THAT NIDAMENTAL CARDIOGNOST BARRULETS OF SIRENS OF BRASH QUISQUILOUS LANDFILLS OF TOXIC NUCLEARITY AGAINST NUCLEOTIDES OF NEPIONIC OIKONISUS BECAUSE IN INCONVENIENT THRESHES OF IMMERGENCE WE SLAKE ONLY THE APPETITES OF INSATIABLE MEN BROWBEATING THEIR JOGGLED SVEDBERGS MIGHT THEY ENCOUNTER THE DUTIFUL AGGIORNAMENTO NOT OF RICHES OF MATERIAL EMOLUMENT BY THE CONTRITE AND PENITENT HEART OF ACCOLENT NOTORIETY BECOMING LIP BALM FOR FAMISHED FAME SPARKLING WITH FIREWORKS WIDELY HARROWING AND TRIED BY THE CRUCIBLES OF TAGHAIRM GOETICS FOR THE BAEDEKERS OF THE TIMEPIECES. GODS GREATEST SWITH IN MAGNANIMITY FOR PRICKLY BLACKGUARD BLEMISHED BY TOADY PEOPLE WHO WORSHIP STARFISH URCHINS OF TEN FOOT PARKAS AND SOUTH PARK LITURGIES MIGHT EVENTUALLY THEIR SQUARSON CONSCIENCE OWING ALL TO SALVATION NOT OF RICHES BUT OF CARDIOGNOST MAINSAIL SUBINTELLIGENTUR REVELATIONS THAT SQUAWK ON EVERY CROWDED BARRISTER OF THE STREETS SUCH THAT THE FANFARONADE BECOMES THE ANSWER TO ALL UNIVERSAL PRINCIPLES OF SYNCLASTIC BORDARS OF SINECURE PAYING FEALTY TO PASTIMES BECOMING GHAWAZIS AND RIGORS BECOMING FLUENT IN THE EASY DREARY DAYS OF ZEITGEIST OF GELOGENIC CACKLING CREVASSES ON AN EVEREST PATHWAY OF PROMISELAND TITANS AND EMERGING IMPERIAL REGARDS BECAUSE THE “TEACHERS”SOCIETY THAT “OVERTHROWS ALL THE PIRATES”FROM “FALLING POISON IVY”BECOMES THE TALISMAN TO REJUVENATE THE CORTEGES OF BELIEF IN THE MOST SUPREME GOD RATHER THAN THE MOST ESTEEMED MAMMON BECAUSE WE DENOUNCE WIDGEONS AND WE ELEVATE THE CAUSES OF GAMMERSTANGS EVERYWHERE THAT ARE CONTECKED WITH STRIDULATION OF STADIOMETERS BECAUSE THE WANIGANS OF WANGS OF SHANTUNG OF WONDERWORK PRODIGIES OF BINTURONG FAME SUCH THAT THE IDEOGENY OF HISTORY BELONGS TO CETACEAN KNIGHTS WORKING TOGETHER WITH SPRINGBOKS AGAINST MURENGERS OF SPRINGHARES TO FORM AN ABDERVINE MERIT BUILT ON TRIAGE AND POKERISH CHARADE ALWAYS CONSCIENTIOUS OF NIDOR RATHER THAN NIDIFUGOUS SCRAWLS OF INTEMERATION THAT PANDER ENDLESSLY IN PROVINCIAL WASES OF THE TRACASSERIE OF STERILE PROVIDENCE RATHER THAN AUSTERE VENERATION FOR THE MIRACULOUS SECUNDINE GROWTH OF REVENANT  SPIRITS EVICTED FROM THE LAND OF THE DEAD SUCH THAT THE ANACAMPSEROTES OF LIFE MIGHT ENDOW THEM AGAIN AGAINST PENURY AND POVERTY THE RICHES OF HEAVEN RENOWNED BY URANOPLASTY RATHER THAN SUCCEDANEUM OF SCAMPERING ATTEMPTS BY VARDLES AND VARDO OF PROXENETES WHO TEAM WITH ICICLES FOR ICEBLINKS SUCH THAT SUTLERS THAT MOBILIZE LIBERATION WILL ALWAYS BE DENOUNCED FOR THEIR TEMERITY DESPITE ISOGENS OF VALOR FOR ISOKERAUNIC SQUEAMISH MASCONS BECAUSE GEOCARPY IS A CONSUMERIST SPORT OF HOBNOBBING AT MALLS WHICH SATIATE THEIR EVERY REGARD AND SINK SLOWLY INTO THE ABYSS OF HOLOBENTHIC CONVERSIONS BECAUSE THE TREACLE OF THE SECULAR IS A FLAGRANT MISTAKE. WE MUST ENLIST THE MORAL RIGORS OF LITURGY TO ENHANCE THE AGGIORNAMENTO OF THE HOLIEST OF CHURCHES AND THE MOST BENEFICENT MOSQUES AND THE MOST INVETERATE SYNAGOGUES THAT WE MIGHT OBEY DIVINE PREROGATIVES SYLLABATIM ENUMERATED BY THE ORIGINAL “KING OF KINGS”WHO LEAD A PEACEFUL EFFORT TO PROSELYTIZE THE WORLD TO A WORLD OF NEIGHBORLY WELCOME RATHER THAN AUSTERE NEGLECT AND DERELICT BOWERIES NIVELLATED BEYOND THE REACH OF STANDPIPES BECAUSE GOD IS AN AUTHOR OF WISDOM THAT IS CONSCIENTIOUS OF THE WISEACRES TOLD IN THE TOMES THAT ALWAYS VOUCHSAFE PROMACHOS CORYPHAEUS SUCH THAT DELIMITED DEMARCATIONS OF THE NOVANTIQUE FALL UNDER THE DIVINE CULTIVATION RATHER THAN A RITCHIE RICH OBSESSION ONLY WITH THE VANGUARD ANARCHY OF ALLODIC SUPREMACY IN WHEREAGAINST FICTIONS.WHEN WE LOOK AT GIOVANNI PICO MIRANDOLA’S ORATION OF THE DIGNITY OF MAN WE FIND THE CULPABLE VENDETTA OF VIGILANTES AND THE TEDIUM OF THE PRIMIPARAS THAT WITH BEBLUBBERED AND LACHRYMOSE SATURNINE FEARS OF FETED AGIOTAGE OR DISAGIO IN ALTERNATION AROUND SIMULTAGNOSIA FORMED BY THE HETEROCHRONY OF PRECISE RUMORS REFINED BY THE VIRTUOSITY OF THE WORLDS BEST NEMBUTSU DESIGNED FOR A HEAVENLY KINGDOM OF THE PERDURABLE WE MUST FORSAKE OUR PISMIRISM AND OUR PILPULS OF THE APIKOROS IDOL WORSHIPPERS THAT FOUND ARTWORK TO BE THE EMBODIMENT OF GOD RATHER THAN THE COMMANDMENT AGAINST GRAVEN IMAGES THAT WE MIGHT RETHINK THE PAST AS A CONVENTICLE OF BABLYONIAN IDEALS THAT RESURRECTED ROMAN HEDONISMS AND RECAPITULATED GREEK IMAGINATIONS SUCH THAT NOW WE CAN DEFEAT THE PNYX AND RENEW THE RENAISSANCE CREATED BY PLUTOMANIA IN COMPETITION WITH THE INSUBORDINATION OF COGWHEEL CODSWALLOP OF WHEELHOUSE BELLARMINE MIGHT WE ALWAYS REGARD THIS ZEITGEIST AS THE PROMINENT THICKET AT THE EDGE OF THE PROMENADE THAT MOBILIZES THE CENTURIONS OF ALL MAJOR CENTURIES OF REVERENCE AND OBEISANCE TO BE SEQUESTRATED FROM THE REMAINDER OF TIME SUCH THAT EVENTUALLY THE ACCOLENT WEALTH OF THE ACCOSTED NEVER BECOMES A PRISMATIC PISMIRISM THAT NEGLECTS THE PISCIFAUNA. WE MUST DEVOTE OUR RICHES TO THE TRUE RELIGION OF THE ORPHAN AND THE WIDOW AND WITH RENOWN CELEBRATE ALL OF OUR NEIGHBORS WITH A FRIENDLY CAMARADERIE RATHER THAN A DISTANT UMBRIL OF SACROSANCT CLEPSYDRAS BLEEDING THE PARCHMENT OF ITS INK THAT  THE BAHUVHRI OF NEW WORLD WISDOM MIGHT BE THE CONCLAMATION OF A BEAMING CITY UPON A HILL BUILT TO LAST SO THAT EVENTUALLY THE CRYPTADIA OF GLIB PARLANCE AND PAR FOUR ELEMENTS OF THE ELEMENTARY SCHOLASTICATE MIGHT WE REFORM THROUGH STRIDULATION AND PETITION THE GLORY OF ALL THE LORDS THAT GRACED THE PROVENANCE OF EARTH THAT ORBIT AROUND THE HEGUMENES THAT GUARD THE TREASURES OF WOOLFELL AND WOOLPACK OF WOOLDS OF WOONERF SUCH THAT SARANGOUSTY PROFITEERS AT THE EDGES OF REVOLUTE AND FRAYED SCHMEGGEGY MIGHT BE DEFEATED BY THE SONDAGE OF THE SEDERUNT AND AVIZANDUM OF THE REGAL PROPRIETOR BRACKISHLY CONVENING THE TAMARAW OF A COUP RATHER THAN A CODDLED HENPECK MOONLIGHT DRIVE HEAVEN THAT IS SO BLINKERED WITH PRESTIGE IT FORGETS THE CALIPACE OF ITS OWN MORAL ENDURANCE IN THE CHILIARCHY OF WORDBOUND WINDCHEATERS THAT BOOMERANG AROUND CENTRIPETAL CYNOSURE SIGNIFICAT AND ECLAT SUCH THAT THE LIONIZED MUSEUMS OF MOSES NEVER FALL FALLOW WITH TURGID DISREGARD IN AN ERA OF PINACOTHECA BECAUSE WE OWE IT ALL TO THE STEWARDSHIP OF ARCEATED OCREATED WILLOWISH MARTINGALES MIGHT THEY BY GIRDLED BY THE FESTOON OF NEVER A LUKEWARM REGARD FOR ANTEBELLUM SUMPTERS OF DIVINE DESTINY. GOD BELONGS CENTRAL TO OUR CONSIDERATIONS AND HE EXHORTS ALL TOWARDS PUSHFUL AMBITION RESIGNED TO THE FACT THAT PAST ATROCITY IS THE PROGENITOR OF PRESENT FELICITY BUT EVEN IN STREAKY CITIES BENIGHTED BY WROX AND THE WROTH OF RAMPAGING VEILLEUSES AND THEIR RAGGED CULVERTAGE MIGHT WE CALVER OUR WAY INTO GROWTH RATHER THAN SUBSIDE LIKE LIMACINE COWARDS INTO THE BUSHWHACKING BYRE OF BUSHWAS THAT ONLY SURVIVE SCRUTINY IN THE GNOTOBIOLOGY OF DENIAL AND THE GEITONOGAMY OF SACRILEGE BECAUSE OF THE SACRIFICES THE PLAGUES OF FAMINE ARRESTING THE PHAROAHS OF ILLUMINATION IN GINGLYMUS MIGHT THEY ARRAY THEMSELVES VANGUARD IN VENTRAD HOPES TO COUNTERMAND THE EVIL UNDERBELLY AND YEDDA OF JOUGS THAT ENTRAP JORDANS BECAUSE THEIR SPOKESHAVEN ECONOMETRIC SCALES RATHER THAN FINIFUGAL FRIGHTS OF RHADAMANTHINE ESBAT OLMS OF SACRIFICE BECOME THE BEAM OF THE BEATIFICATION OF THE WORLD UNDER GODS MAJESTIC MANDATES. AMEN
Rachel Doty Feb 2017
Hate. All I see is hate.
Pure, unadulterated hate.
It's everywhere now.
In the ceiling, under the rickety floorboards,
Sleeping through the cracks of a once impenetrable foundation.
There are three sides to every story, but no one wants to see the third side, the truth.  I'm right, no I'm right, well you're a demon. You're not smart enough, not pretty ebough, too pretty, the wrong ethnicity, to give a valid argument. You're not valid. Only I, the holiest of beings, can tell you how to think, what to say, and what to never say. I-
SHUT UP!!!
...
God, silence is golden.

Then there's the rest of us. The children, huddled in a dark corner where their angry parents hurl glass plates and scream. We want everything to be well. Perhaps "well again" isn't the right phrase. Home was never perfect, and it never will be. But if we could be a happy family, even through the dark times, if we could hear what one another is saying, no. If we could LISTEN to what one another is saying, that would be enough.

There are those who are done fighting, the old man in his wicker chair, waiting his whole life to be noticed. When he finally gets his medal, his children throw it into the garbage disposal. What is there left to say when no one will listen?

There are those of us on the front lines, the virtual vigilantes.
So passionate, so intense, so disconnected.

There are the Orwellian sheep. Saying what they've been told by whomever chooses to educate them. Their minds so innocent, angry, closing every day. They see not the masses of wolves spinning lies with the help of their wool.  

The house is crumbling. Those who scream too loud are breaking the glass windows. The soft spoken are struggling to clean the splintery, split floorboards. Of course, they are all too busy to notice the house is leaning far off to one side. It starts to teeter on the side of a cliff. Creak. Creak. Creak.
Ii
Hombre de Extremadura,
oigo bajo tu pie el humo del lobo,
el humo de la especie,
el humo del niño,
el humo solitario de dos trigos,
el humo de Ginebra, el humo de Roma, el humo de Berlín
y el de París y el humo de tu apéndice penoso
y el humo que, al fin, sale del futuro:
¡Oh vida! ¡oh tierra! ¡oh España!
¡Onzas de sangre,
metros de sangre, líquidos de sangre,
sangre a caballo, a pie, mural, sin diámetro,
sangre de cuatro en cuatro, sangre de agua
y sangre muerta de la sangre viva!

Estremeño, ¡oh, no ser aún ese hombre
por el que te mató la vida y te parió la muerte
y quedarse tan solo a verte así, desde este lobo,
cómo sigues arando en nuestros pechos!
¡Estremeño, conoces
el secreto en dos voces, popular y táctil,
del cereal: que nada vale tánto
como una gran raíz en trance de otra!
¡Estremeño acodado, representando al alma en su retiro,
acodado a mirar
el caber de una vida en una muerte!
¡Estremeño, y no haber tierra que hubiere
el peso de tu arado, ni más mundo
que el color de tu yugo entre dos épocas; no haber
el orden de tus póstumos ganados!
¡Estremeño, dejásteme
verte desde este lobo, padecer,
pelear por todos y pelear
para que el individuo sea un hombre,
para que los señores sean hombres,
para que todo el mundo sea un hombre, y para
que hasta los animales sean hombres,
el caballo, un hombre,
el reptil, un hombre,
el buitre, un hombre honesto,
la mosca, un hombre, y el olivo, un hombre
y hasta el ribazo, un hombre
y el mismo cielo, todo un hombrecito!

Luego, retrocediendo desde Talavera,
en grupos de a uno, armados de hambre, en masas de a uno,
armados de pecho hasta la frente,
sin aviones, sin guerra, sin rencor,
el perder a la espalda
y el ganar
más abajo del plomo, heridos mortalmente de honor,
locos de polvo, el brazo a pie,
amando por las malas,
ganando en español toda la tierra,
retroceder aún, ¡y no saber
dónde poner su España,
dónde ocultar su beso de orbe,
dónde plantar su olivo de bolsillo!

Mas desde aquí, más tarde,
desde el punto de vista de esta tierra,
desde el duelo al que fluye el bien satánico,
se ve la gran batalla de Guernica.
¡Lid a priori, fuera de la cuenta,
lid en paz, lid de las almas débiles
contra los cuerpos débiles, lid en que el niño pega,
sin que le diga nadie que pegara,
bajo su atroz diptongo
y bajo su habilísimo pañal,
y en que la madre pega con su grito, con el dorso de una lágrima
y en que el enfermo pega con su mal, con su pastilla y su hijo
y en que el anciano pega
con sus canas, sus siglos y su palo
y en que pega el presbítero con dios!
¡Tácitos defensores de Guernica!
¡oh débiles! ¡oh suaves ofendidos,
que os eleváis, crecéis,
y llenáis de poderosos débiles el mundo!

En Madrid, en Bilbao, en Santander,
los cementerios fueron bombardeados,
y los muertos inmortales,
de vigilantes huesos y hombro eterno, de las tumbas,
los muertos inmortales, de sentir, de ver, de oír
tan bajo el mal, tan muertos a los viles agresores,
reanudaron entonces sus penas inconclusas,
acabaron de llorar, acabaron
de esperar, acabaron
de sufrir, acabaron de vivir,
acabaron, en fin, de ser mortales!

¡Y la pólvora fue, de pronto, nada,
cruzándose los signos y los sellos,
y a la explosión salióle al paso un paso,
y al vuelo a cuatro patas, otro paso
y al cielo apocalíptico, otro paso
a los siete metales, la unidad,
sencilla, justa, colectiva, eterna!

¡Málaga sin padre ni madre,
ni piedrecilla, ni horno, ni perro blanco!
¡Málaga sin defensa, donde nació mi muerte dando
pasos
y murió de pasión mi nacimiento
¡Málaga caminando tras de tus pies, en éxodo,
bajo el mal, bajo la cobardía, bajo la historia cóncava,
indecible,
con la yema en tu mano: tierra orgánica!
y la clara en la ***** del cabello: todo el caos
¡Málaga huyendo
de padre a padre, familiar, de tu hijo a tu hijo,
a lo largo del mar que huye del mar,
a través del metal que huye del plomo,
al ras del suelo que huye de la tierra
y a las órdenes ¡ay!
de la profundidad que te quería!
¡Málaga a golpes, a fatídico coágulo, a bandidos, a infiernazos,
a cielazos,
andando sobre duro vino, en multitud,
sobre la espuma lila, de uno en uno,
sobre huracán estático y más lila,
y al compás de las cuatro órbitas que aman
y de las dos costillas que se matan
¡Málaga de mi sangre diminuta
y mi coloración a gran distancia,
la vida sigue con tambor a tus honores alazanes,
con cohetes, a tus niños eternos
y con silencio a tu último tambor,
con nada, a tu alma,
y con más nada, a tu esternón genial!
¡Málaga, no te vayas con tu nombre!
¡Que si te vas,
te vas
toda, hacia ti, infinitamente toda en son total,
concorde con tu tamaño fijo en que me aloco,
con tu suela feraz y su agujero
y tu navaja antigua atada a tu hoz enferma
y tu madero atado a un martillo!
¡Málaga literal y malagüeña,
huyendo a Egipto, puesto que estás clavada,
alargando en sufrimiento idéntico tu danza,
resolviéndose en ti el volumen de la esfera,
perdiendo tu botijo, tus cánticos, huyendo
con tu España exterior y tu orbe innato!
¡Málaga por derecho propio
y en el jardín biológico, más Málaga!
¡Málaga en virtud
del camino, en atención al lobo que te sigue
y en razón del lobezno que te espera!
¡Málaga, que estoy llorando!
¡Málaga, que lloro y lloro!
Jay Wasnothing Mar 2014
One day we should live our daily lives in underwear
Without a single worry or care

You can wear flattering boxers and I'll wear cute *******
And maybe later we'll become bed-sheet vigilantes

Together we can lay around with a lack of pants
And you could also teach me how to dance

Perhaps those ******* will be polka-dotted or even black with lace
Either way I'll constantly have a smile on my face

Perhaps your boxers will be colorful or plain
No matter what, I'm sure they'll entertain

Without a doubt, I'm sure we'll have fun
Because being with you is second to none
Written in 2013, after my boyfriend told me to write a silly poem
Carrillo Feb 2017
An inquisitive mind—flourished from oppression into a cave as rich as Reed mine
Where tourists can flood my thoughts
Pick at my gold and sell it for their lives
Stabilizing their own
While weakening my historic rise
Greed increases, and relationships are seceded
Because everyone wants to obtain sacred pieces

 
Wandering through pixels of distorted visions
Gatherers become hunters
Painting with blood, their own ambitions
Setting standards for the continuing generations
In turn, a figurative genocide
For the sake of remaining proclamations
Paralyzing, terrorizing, and destroying indifferent others

 
If time manipulates unfortunate events, perhaps the solution
Is just the opposite
Creatures of habit soon face an evolution
Once protagonists reach a state of lucid retribution
It defines them as antagonists playing a role of uncanny acts
The renowned vigilantes use time as their sword
To reenact their own demise and call unto their lord


Scattered within the affluent cave
The people and their children
And their children's children
Are enslaved, digging their own graves while being influenced by vacuous hopes and darkened shapes
The repetitive motions devolved into psychopathic notions
They attempted to escape but were punished for breaking the rotation
Whipped, humiliated, and shamed
The cave insulated the pain
By offering priceless artifacts
Within my knowledgeable den
Andrew Rueter Jan 2021
Referees mismanage oversight
incorrect calls lower credibility
faith in justice dissolves into the ice
agency is taken into padded hands
vigilantes slash and spear.

Hip check leads to cross check leads to fist check
malignant hostility boils over
leather armor is removed
interphalangeal joints meet mandible
type O negative paints a jersey
haymakers take bizarre trajectories
to avoid helmets and visors
the face is homebase to ingrain pain.

Violence subverts gamesmanship
players must be taken off ice
to be put on ice
otherwise brawls become overabundant
and destroy the integrity of the sport
yet each transfer of agony is euphorically satisfying
—considering the context—
so fist fairs continue for the foreseeable future
we organize an impenetrable perimeter
once we've acclimated to penalty kills.
Sacrelicious May 2012
So while,
I sit here and roll
with this
like a joint.
Care-free & easy.
In the back of my head,
I feel like
the force
that's being represented.
Is all mightily
*******
that his
ungenious
wanna be
vigilantes,
giving
him or her
or whatever
a bad name.
Talk about infectious
*******.
No, I'm talking about religion.
Brandon Mar 2012
Down with the religious zealots
The junk eaters
The polluters
The mistreaters
The mainstreamers
Down with the life wasters
Wasting life and breath every second
A holocaust not aimed at groups of people
But instead to those that truly deserve it
(Then the question becomes
Who deserves it?
And who decides
Voting doesn’t work
So that option is out…)
Vigilantes do the best work
When they’re allowed to prosper
I swear all you people crack me up.
Yenson Nov 2018
From the off I neutralized them
One small brown man outfoxed the dummies
Drew their fangs and sat watching
The play by fools for uber fools
Left them chasing their tails and shadows
Just doing for doing sake
Lame duck controllers
Lame brains vigilantes
Deluded schmucks
******* to a
Closed play with
No Actors
Haha
ha
Vijaya Balan Oct 2014
Atrocities bind my humans,
A death race to finish the rat race,
Vicious vigilantes cover your demons,
The premier guides you to your dream ace.

Red stains on the brown sand,
Earth that once sheltered and shimmered,
Skies that rained onto land,
Artillerymen break the silence of the sacred

We push through floods and quakes,
Dancing with grief as we all bilk,
Life plays out like a bowl of flakes
You dunk the spoon and spill the milk

Have you not heard?
No use crying over spilled blood

The sands will dance on your grave,
A ravaging scene of thoughtful revenge,
Grains of sand will fill your grave,
A tormented scene of destined revenge

The broad daylight will be your silent killer,
No more will you hear of the plague,
They light brown winds of a thriller,
A plan that was deemed too vague

The sands have shaped your silhouette,
A deep dark brown dot of an existence,
Lands before time have had this dragnet
You have been dusted out of existence!
Yenson Jul 2019
See the TRUTH and shame the devil
Tell the truth and shame the devil
duplicity, chicanery, Machiavellian and being disingenuous
all have consequences that you will pay for eventually
You have ruined names, reputations, careers and a happy home
in what you lied is some revolution against 'Elitism'
when they truth is a racist mobbing of a successful black couple
who stood up to a thieving racist family and thus your racist war

Tell the truth and shame the devil
you and your mob of criminal gang-stalkers and fooled vigilantes
have framed, fabricated, manipulated, hounded and intimidated
gone through every insidious permutations of Gang-stalkers Manual
thinking I would have broken down or committed suicide by now
you taken an innocent couple, divided them and wrecked love
you've ruined careers, made me jobless, isolated me, spread poison

Tell the truth and shame the devil
you keep on fabricating lies to hide your evil deeds and manners
got unaware masses believing your framing and cover ups
after creating false and staged incidences and happenings
all done to keep stitching me up as you have always done
fooling people into believing they are gods controlling things
selling dummies to people and mugging their intelligence

Tell the truth and shame the devil
you racist bullies picking on a black man because he has no gang
because he is polished and calm, you assume he'll fall in no time
you diminish my strength, stoicism, by creating false reasons
my self-respect, self-assurance and self control you hinge on false
premises, inferring I can only maintain your enforced celibacy
because I am stripping women with my eyes or gaping at big *****

Tell the truth and shame the devil
You are racist criminals hell bent on silencing and destroying me
I am standing still cause I am innocent, confident, intelligent brave
I do not operate through the base instincts of people like you
who are governed by their simple minds and uninformed emotions
childish, immature, base, uncouth, crass indulgent, simplistic *****
your asinine attempts at manipulation or control is all a big con
on the masses who you have hood=winked from day one till now

Tell the truth and shame the devil
off-course you can not because you are all born liars and psychos
triggers, hinges, anchors, sensitizing, gas-lighting, hazing, softening, terrorizing, demoralizing, how long you have been at it,
I am still standing, I am not scared of low lives, **** and criminals
You can fool all the people some of the time and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.

                       Tell the truth and shame the devil
Tell the truth and shame the devil
                         Tell the truth and shame the devil
Tell the truth and shame the devil
In East London in England, in the poorer areas, they have a code of Silence, you dont talk, you dont see and you dont hear ' NOFINK ' And most importantly you do not stand up to a gang of crooks like a decent citizen and tell them you are going to expose them and you are not afraid of them. I did just that. I am paying the price cause I believe this is what a straight law-abiding person does and despite my ruination and everything, I will do exactly the same again. Better to die than be ruled in FEAR by some lowlife criminals. I told them to go get proper legit jobs and stop being a public disgrace, they replied I was to be sent to the University of Life for further training. The upshot is I am now in a concentration camp, I suppose that's to improve my concentration as they strip me of all basic human Rights and my Right to peace, Joy and Happiness and everything good . They haven't starved me though, I get copious amounts of reduced goods from the stores but absolutely nothing else, not even a hello, good-bye or even a basic 'thanks for your custom, only cold unfriendly stares, if not being harassed and taunted and lately some big ***** women standing in my way. Not very nice I tell you, what's the point, a pariah feeling **** is really like a fish needing a swimming costume and an inflatable fish.
You've gotta laugh................
Bobby Copeland May 2020
Nothing changes
As the night burns
Into an unholy morning
Of despair,
A scream without translation.
American spring,
Killing season in Kentucky,
Minnesota, Carolina, Georgia,
New York.
Nothing changes but the names,
Mississippi, St. Louis, L.A.
Vigilantes and police,
Incendiary commentary by the chief
Executive
That fans the flames.
Nothing changes but the body counts,
God's sons' and daughters' stolen right
To breathe.
At least a fire gets seen.
Julian Aug 2020
“The Revenant”(Ghost Song Inspiration)
Awake yearning Asleep
Barnacles of riveted keel ajar with wonder keepsakes to sweep
Traipsing the moonlit path between equidistant insanities
Billowing fumes of rage fulgurant in the vogue modality
Whispering 9 Billion hymns to an immemorial cemetery
Silenced by shattered quakes rumbling in the deep forest
Imagined long ago yet again…
Surfing the few fragile crestfallen waves Tighter Nooses in tsunamis on Portugal in the eleventh month hanging ten
Fragile swoons of kenspeckel verbatim echoed in hallowed halls of evening Diaspora gilded in excellence
Limit is no boundary to the timeless clock of tilted tendencies towards barbed decadence
Revelry is no artifact tethered to a patibulary pole folded in the pokerish sneakthievery of triumphant owl’s night
We laugh like soft mad children waxing the candlelit vigil of barren Beirut struck down with ultrageous fright
Cackling as misfortune trespasses are shot on sight
That The Remedy asphyxiates National Anthem hues
Slippery in the crevasse of caffeinated daydream sues
Toasting butter cretaceous with wonder a lapse of sentience is its ultimate blunder of 1015 Rooz
Because the tottering paragon overlooks his habitable tomb
Bequeathed in Nero’s fright askew for the itching view
Spawned instants of thunderous applause serenade the weaning night littered with dancing fragments of illusion
Time is no object to objective dimples on Helicopter dime
Swank is no subject because the predevoted pause owes all to cadence of currency in the heyday of sublime
Long-winded but curt
Outskirts to every vacant and inhabited skirt suburban to muses crooning with antiquity destitute with forbidden flirt
Livid with indignation over fallen hands outstretched to unheralded bands
Simpering with scalded water of tattered whisper of the nauclatic heralds of sunrise over moonlight land
Effort is no music without tragedian Shakespearean rebuke
Taylor’s stop-and-go with flashlight frisk a Pharaohs’ Zion too much of a Fluke
Greco-Roman travesty blinks with scary flicker in an alpenglow Apollon stained-glass window summit
Dirges always precede precipitate glamour aflame with spectral filibustered blight and plummet
besieged by fallen wonders
Sunken by echoes of consequence in Heavy Metal Thunder
Glimpsing the Revenant of a future tango with backwards sentinels of séance
Grief overtakes the rejuvenated sunlit hike
Hitched by Horses with No Name Painless by harnessed spike
Of a Roadhouse Blues not Red enough for the Scarlet Letter Hues of Bill the Butcher White with Tweed nullifying his diacopes of spite
Cadence peerless paling to mirrored reflection of recapitulated mated soul
Limpid nexility that ghosts flex with reflective Jazzy soul
Jailhouse rocking Malone swerves with jaunt
Easy to dance easier to flaunt
Dastardly darts four score and seven jerseys ago
The seamstress of violence alacrity to sow
Vindication belonging to orphaned asylum 44th
A King lost too soon because of masons coming fourth
Degrees of Solomon rustling through A Biff’s Palace
Jimpster hitman an Akabu of hustled alarm pegged to wild shadows dancing a delicate filigree of spawn and spark
To the plug anointed by tethered Cable Guy treason
Few vigilantes of Batman’s caliber yet to reason
In the Revenant’s wake of fallen timbers of Sunset Strip
Reapers prowl with the tide of Bruno Mars RIP
That he sprawls in survival a hat too generous to tip
Uptown Chelsea in uproar as auditoriums fill with hedged victims of sense and sensibility etched in Gore
Lone Pine Mall stranded by conflagration of bulletproof lore
Clowns dedicate independence while crowns croon ***** repentance
For a forlorn starvation of cities of jackals sailed to sentence
Dripping with a faucet of ghostly haunts
Kapstone Paper in Kansas verging on misery wants  
Yet Bleeding American with French-British hues
The world’s lovelorn starlet yet too swollen to amuse
Stark travesty in fatuous emoluments to Walter White vanity
A current streak unbeaten because of realism in Virtual Insanity
A Joker’s Gamboled revenge skittish in sketchy chalkboards of ossified prestige
Left to the milk carton missing is yet another Abandoned Pools squeeze
The Young Robot scared to Fly-by-Night in the pathway of terminal poignant disease
A punitive prison worthy of the cackles of Dinosaurs besieged by Mr. Freeze
Folksy natatoriums agape with bathhouse squalor
Every hierodule a ******* to the witwanton bottom dollar
For the buggery of a Titanic warning towering ever taller
Stilted Wilts 50 a game warbles without Chinese glowers of Silk Road Silk
An albatross of agrarian hubris is how Ping-Pong Champions were eventually built
Hollywood’s grotto a despairing bravado
Of a masonry skyscraping a surpassed entelechy of a half-known tomorrow
Escape malingering and dare to dream
Listless maneuvers of space a hipster jam of the rollicking heyday of a fortress of a team
That I brandish with pride and retrospective snide
How perjury Underoath is a much better bribe
Air Force pride against Scorched Earth fallow because of a wayward bride
The Spectrum of Casper is galloping in deceitful degrees of a piety too wide
Swayed by Swayze pretended or lazy
The whole world in centration glistens with the fashionable crazy
Electromagnetic Detroit a rumpus for Notorious donnybrooks of a Gretchen cloaked too tight for Avalanche brawls cemented in burgundy and white
Industrial locomotives bulldozing Buffaloes of a Boulder fraternity too leaky to always be right
Scattered on Dawn’s Highway Bleeding crowded by a sing-song peril by design
That deference is reference to rappers glistening in surrealism ripe and prime marveling at the Ace of Military Base’s glaring Sign
Lethal Killers on patrol roaming Earthquake plodded land
Count the number of hairs of vitriol in silicon purebred amicable handfuls of wafting sand
Drifting in Mescaline ends at the periphery of Desert Movies Goldmines for Choosing
The Native American Jabberwocky or Mulder’s Father’s dying musing neither of which is favorable to boozing
The Brown doctor disfavored by armed aristocrats is always alive and rarely unbuttoned when snoozing
Flynn torches bemuse the tattered knight
Presumptuous Arthur is only on the quorum when consentience of accord is proven right by both deed and prescient light
Hardly a sidesplitter for a curveball time
California Love is plastered with rivalries of NorCal grime
Of the greatest Banana Slug Fiction flagrant with Quinntessential clairvoyance of a deceased 60’s crime
A dead queer lollygag belonging to the advice of a Pearl Jam Jeremy’s erasure of snares of beleaguered blasphemous chyme
Nonlinear spurts fielded by stolen bases of paralyzed rebuffs rather curt
A rapper worthy of the stage rarely an actor beyond a churlish vendetta hurt
Yet I dazzle the lingerie of even the most guarded skirt
The kiln of machination is a wedding of guarded betrayals of Monster Mash extortion
Alexisonfire a harbinger to the world’s belabored victory over corrugated striptease contortion
Thursday is a miraculous noise of shattered glass
Inertia knows ventriloquial varnish of shattered bones and tempted blood dripping in crematorium ash
Yet I survive with a Jive walk and a sardonic wagtail flock
Of the best patronage of cognoscenti shockwaves of bonanza stocks stalked like a swarpollock locket invisible to Tik Tok
I’m the best hip-hop in the game beyond the treachery of retreads of psychobabble inane
I strut like magic belonging to the sanitorium of the edgy swank of modest profane
Granite defected is my cement planet infesting the game like Boardwalks on the revived Titanic
Aliens headbash the gamut of my spangled manic
Ghost Ridin’ Raiders of the Lost Arc leads to hysterical panic
Indiana laughs at Elway’s squirrel because he bolted Baltimore with a baseball pretense for a sexier girl
When the rigmarole of genius aligns infamy bails out the oyster aphrodisiac of a Heart of the Ocean pearl
Time is a self-referential quisling of a monarchy built of subtle curling
A bored sport dazzling with scintillation in recursive zeal unfurling
A Canada Dry livid stargazer dozes on Oiler comets meteoric as hydroponics
**** quaffs the lazy lollygag rarely hooked on the righteous phonics
But no distaste to the canine game
I am well beyond the distance to the lethargy of NV in shame
Bear Bryant on Rushmore flowing high
Jetsetting across Pink Floyd’s lurid Clear Blue Skies
George trampled by Chauvinist monsters
Zuckerberg and Gates are honkies betting on bonkers loud both in Boston and in Yonkers
100 Billion of counterfeit souls sold to slot machine mannequins quite droll
Someone needs to devour their corner like a Revelations sour-tasting scroll
Tagged to apothecary mountebanks of Trey’s on repeat
A hard-won small Utah town harder than Joe Montana to beat
Bypassed hack of time Luminosity the adultress of 1693 regaled as a freakish feat
Time simpers to Spirit of Grace graven kantikoys in Seattle Graveyards blemished by dancing Creep
The Idioteque squalor of bemused negligence in a flooded Avatar Jurassic Park Jeep
I recall the St. Joseph’s brawl not with Sevendust Animosity or a squawk on short-sighted grating flag hooped with haywire lines snorted on Basketball
The marstions of plenilune filigree are 32 Leaves of RINOs of crestfallen dirges of cacophony deafened by Yachted Wedding Crashers’ squall
The swagger of a Vogue Rose kissed by Shadow Dancing ******* is livid in throes
Of a throwaway stretchgrave of Jackson’s crooning on astounding Mike Bossy Bose
Engraved with Islander epiphany that smokestack chockablocks itch every more Leary in gawsy clothes
I rampage through the filibusters of Jerusalem silt sunken by immigrants in tired tattered kilt
That the only famine known to McDonald’s is the demolition of Fireman of young Wayne Enterprises yet rigged to insuperable caverns hitched to the hilt
Soul Kitchen alphabets on Dewey Decimal design swagger yet with a Lugubrious Monkey-Silent Bob’s Feared Spinosity in Sprites of commercial Lemon-Lime
Of a dauntless Decision among many subdued by Prison that the apish caper gouges 20/20 Vision a cacophony dimpled in recessive alleles of a modern prime
That is also primacy antecedent to yoked Cartel SUV’s perfected in acerbic dungeons Monster Mash corners yet death unfurled in matchbox tinder of Futurama slime
Jet Lagged infancy of Nuclear Duff hustling the Illmatic Annoyance of BiffCO ***** riddles Uncle RICO wed boschveldt of Kansas City seen 21-30 with zeal and repine
The Bizarre Inc. of a lovelorn 96’ robbed Liberace into untimely death the spinsters of Key Auditorium Dine
Hemlock sprees of Socratic whimpers of treason of Piraeus marks the infamy of Brutus lagging with conscience diseased
That the marvel of vengeance is the plaudits of swanky New York Times rustling against dead Nevada Subways and Lusitania rollicking seas
Rage itches as Brock is capsized to Hearts of Oceans littered with Sparrow Murders of Ravens Batty with Belief
Mourning the Twister carnage of A Shining City on a Hill printed by Federal Way disclosure by Armada Music without a receipt
To the dozen graves of Monster Mash London Fog the Undeveloped Story of a balcony of Wayne Packer Million Dollar degrees
Challenged to a Final Revolution of a Fantasy terrorizing the Trafficked hand a Coca Cola seizure God spared for “Canceled” Taco Bell automotive brain freeze
Spinsters with vertigo paralyze on the hopscotch kettle of popcorn for amusement racketing squashed Colombia too many lines yet to appease
And too gaping Walls of Chauvin weaning on freckles of Comfortably Numb disease that Love Story castle is the monarchy of allusion to 19-17
Coffins for 24k Carat foresight by the antiquated architects
attacked for 2001 vengeance on Forsberg’s Spleen
Notorious by scores of tourists in aperture for Native American Casinos blankets on Red Scare forests
Apple’s chocolate-box sergeant prescience on brittle Reed Chorus
Sung by the litany of Ima memorialized by punctual Grace of the sashay of Delphinium fountain pens porous.
It's not perfect but some Rhymes are  absolutely untouchable. This is my first real attempt at Rap but with my 160+ IQ I will get more consistent!
Now that im seein' doubles
Enticed to troubles hard head
Kickin' up dust put no trust
In anyone keep ya friends close enemies closer
Turn out the lights and watch how i get wicked in the dark seen a small spark
A gleam in my father's eye I was ready to die no lie
I shed many tears permanent stains on my skin
Embodied by sin will the lord let me in
For all the good deeds I put in??
But then again I was made to fail and get nothin' but if I gotta make crack sales o well
Nothing but drama in this life
**** the clergy *** they'll be the first to pull a knife
Or gun saying you dying in the name of the father?
But how when his own son was slaughtered?
By these same hypocrites so you ******* can ******* I'm fillin' caskets with slugs to follow
I got no love in my heart so how the **** can feel love from the start?
My enemies plottin' I catch em slippin' so ya know they droppin' hot boxin'
Topics knockin' profits stay in **** we vigilantes
Slaves to our own world I'm.bustin' hallows
Til it hits the souls of young boys and girls in the ghetto
Girl you a strong woman take off them stilettos
Don Shapiro known don back and resurrected from my past ancestors that moved on
Different melody but same song
Pay attention to the treachery
Real nigguhs turn to bustas I ride with the realist
But thinkin' remember ya never had a friend like me
none
Classy J Oct 2016
Streets are throwing a ruckus, clowns creep in the alleys; man I don’t think that it is even safe anymore for us? Valleys of shadows, no love in the ghetto's, economy is crumbling so excuse me for not being able to be mellow. Corrupt politicians, with missions of evil, man I would rather go to hell and deal with the devil. All about competition, all about attrition, to get people’s blind undivided submission. Millionaires with power over the poor, news is depressing, but yet people want more. Where are you batman, where are you superman, what has happened to this society man? Where are the heroes when the powerful people make us feel like zeroes? Where is God, where is the fundaments that established us, where can I find a escape pod?

No immigrants, yet we all immigrants, full of mischievous infamous vigilantes ******* out the life of the innocents. What have we done to deserve this wickedness? How do we get out of this predicament? Because this **** is getting ridiculous. Gorillas shot to death, Isis threats, are we destined to end up like Macbeth? Who cares about success, when you don’t have access to excess? Don’t think about it, just buy another white and gold or black and blue dress, and then have it repossessed. Nevertheless I digress, I just feel like this **** needs to be addressed!
Terror and fear have we fallen back to 1939, forever to be devoured by despair that clouds up the sunshine? How I wish to see the sunrise, how I wish that instead of hating each other, we instead choose to become allies.

Not buying what the world advertises, I won’t compromise otherwise I will become de-stabilized. I won’t become antagonized, I won’t be hypnotized, I won’t let myself become a piece of property that the government can control and monopolize. My paradise will not be had if I get caught up in propaganda, I won’t be warned to be silent like some kind of Miranda. I know my rights, I won’t be treated like mice, and I will roll my own dice, and will face my price. I know that this economy is on thin ice, and that minimum wage in some areas are going up which then leads things to become overpriced. Just hold on, stay strong, sometimes life will go back and forth like Ping-Pong.

Up’s and down’s, some stay idle where others run towards the crown. Time to stay headstrong, time to start getting along; it’s just one small step for man in the words of Neil Armstrong. This is where we belong, come together and rhyme along to my song. Try to change life for the better till we die, you will never know unless you try. Don’t fear the baton and the gun; I will fight for what I believe is right just like Milan. You can **** the man, but you can’t **** the dream or the idea, don’t get caught up in the cream, cut up that visa then run wild like a cheetah. All kingdoms crumble, be they can be rebuilt, life is a gamble, but I chose long ago to no longer let myself wilt. I have no guilt in being me, and I know right now it can be ******, but when we make it through I believe we will be happy
Emeka Mokeme Jun 2018
Moving behind me are
the stealth shadows of
the silent ones.
The vigilantes,
watchers of the bad dudes.
Protectors against the evil ones.
Moving in the quietness of the dark,
as silent as the night.
The warriors,
the brave ones,
with chivalry spirit,
sworn into sacred secret oath
to protect and keep the environment safe,
fearless and courageous,
confronting evil heads on,
ready to lay down their lives for
the very ones they love,
unknown to many of the dangers they confront in their lonely path
they have chosen.
With respect we salute them.
Knights of the night,
our hearts with gratitude salute you.
Keepers of the flame,
we salute you.
As you secure our safety,
even so shall your lives be secured.
May God keep you safe for our sake.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Dream Fisher Apr 2019
I know why no one wants to be the hero,
A hero's story doesn't end well.
He doesn't get to see a golden gate,
He leads you there then walks away.
Heroes can inspire all but themselves
Placed on shelves waiting to fall
And that downfall is the story they'll tell.
Watch and see for yourself.

I wish more people wanted to be heroes,
Tie their capes in broad day and save
Because look, I mean really look,
The villains aren't stopping,
You hear the newscasters jaws dropping
Every night that another kid won't be alright.
So we wave white flags as victims,
And I don't know about you
But I'm ready to fight
For something so much bigger than me.
Come and be one for yourself

I know why no one wants to be the hero,
They let the bad guys have all the fun.
The vigilantes can't work a system
With zero liability who's to blame
I don't believe I can stop it one on one
But extend a hand to you all the same.
Why can't we all be heroes,
And stop all the distress, you and I.
No one wants to be a hero
Because evil will never die.
jo forstrom May 2018
vigilantes, marauders, of the night skies
relentless in their search for all that is out there inside the blankets of night
fragments of lost stars that once were out there but became undone as they drifted off inside of the vastness and burnt out
but now are salvaged and put back in to place as the night sky remains flawless through these naked eyes of mine.
jo forstrom.
Classy J Sep 2016
Sumptuous of these innate Pompous vigilantes, doth their vile belligerence beckon death. Avast ye beaten barren boisterous vermin, tis but at thus no more than a bunch of wearily laden distain that you try to escape. Art thou destined to fail, art thou not broken? Doth not understand what state you're in at the moment. As much as I would like seeing suffer at the hands of the mercy less. Your endless reckless desperate cling to live another day is quite inspiring. If roles were reversed I cannot say I would have taken deaths hand long ago. At some point you may realize that this hope of yours is perilous and pointless. For thou has found yourself in the depths of hell. Once your in you can never get out. Is this the end? Things seem to me to be pointing that way. But I can't say I haven't been wrong before.

— The End —