san san sa-ant
I sant say say
an a hey hey
not a way
nawt a way
iss all gray garay
san san sa-ant
nos nos not sayn
nos nos not sayn
san san sa-ant
nos nos not sayn
an a heyin an a
heyin whar whar
whar whar an a heyn
whar whar  ya
whar whar ya  bin

The Airn-Wanderer:

WÆPEN WUNDUM SUNDORGENGA

Waes Ah! Waes Ah, noo!
Beguid! an’ Greatly, unco Greatly Hye, IT!
Wi'in Abysmal-Deep Primal Fyre, IT!
Great Fair Thor's Orrah!
Lookin’ yondir! lookin’ yondir, noo!
Afore avidly, unco avidly
Drank hynne Ah! Great Warlike Orrah!
The Gowblat o’ Noble Precious Gowd Shimmerin':
Gleamin’ further, IT! Ane an' the Same, hynne!
Wi' the Verra Glare frae Bein' o' Power Supreme!
Gift Invincibly Purified IT, hynne!
Thad Enraged Wotan’s ain Verra Chalice o’ mine,
An’ Toast frae Hye-HEREHAND!
Great, in Fyre Ragin' noo, Ullr's Orrah!
Frae Noble Valhalla Rairan Deep
Wi’ ITS Metal Fiery Soul, hynne!
Orra Skye-Substance, orra Skye-Schorcin’ o’ mine!
Noo, verra unco! Core-Martially stylle grabbin’,
Wi’ Black Leather Glove
O’ Total Dazzlin’, an' Verra, Verra ​Core-Abysmal, IT!
Whyte-War, hynne!

ÞUNORE HWÍT CEALLA,

Fyre-Flowin’, the Verra Northumbrian Mead!  
Livin’, Tasty wi’ Pow’r, Great Warlike Orrah!
Niflheim-Watery, IT!

BEADWE, MĪN SWÆTAN,

Frae yon Ironclad Norþan-hymbre!
Frae Hel Itself Delicious,
Unco dyrinkin’, downe the hatch!
Hynne Ah,
My by-gone Days left orra Aflame:
Great Vision! Great Bellum! noo dyin’ o’ mine!
Whileas stylle waes hynne Ah!
Thro’ the Bare Highlands Dreary,
‘Yont South Ruins’ Bluish Burnan Wa,
Deep-Wanderin’,
In search for the Verra Lightnin’ Raed,
An' Flashin' Guide o' mine Devastatingly Immortal!

BĒOWES RĒADA FÝRTORR,

O’er Thae Cauld Moorlan Heights hynne,
Leisurely, implacably, Great Warlike Orrah!
Amyd Hye Rocky Smeddum all abowt me
Strollin’,
Intae the Verra Mirk Unfathomable,
Airn-Flesh o’ mine, hynne
Throwin’,
An' my Wise an’ Bold an’ Proud!
Sensual Noble Dame,
Gerðr galdrs Scho!

MĪN FÆÐMLICE OND BRYNIGE CWÝNE
SÉO HYGEÞRYMME ÁDRÍEGEÞ,

A' Oor Inflamed Naychts! Verra Wyntry Naychts!
Afore the Sacral Stane-Hearth:

WINTRES WÍDERFEORLIC HEORÐ,
HWÆR ÆFRE OND LÍGBRYNE
ÚSERE BRÆD GEMETEÞ,

Stylle deep-burnin',
Guid, Verra Guid Bleezan Orrah!
Scho unco weall! Scho unco weall! Ah say!
Rememberin',
In Lang Robes o' Deep Crimson Fyre, noo!
Her Superior Womanhood,
Full! An' divinely, orra divinely!
Thro' Her Glowin' Mystery Sinuous, o'er endowed!
Hynne stylle, unco ardently! in Primal Lowes, fully Sinuous!
Whare, Thys weall! weall! Scho unco knew!
Ah! Guid, Verra Guid Thundir's Orrah!
Used tae ay lose! nae abeigh!
Wi'in an Abyss Interminable an' Endless Contynent!
Ay, Great Guid Orrah! Masell!
An’ Verra Firey! sinuously Trowe! Verra Soul!
Unco tightly, wi' Norland Passion
Stylle profoundly Wemenlie o' Hers!
Shrouded,
Scho saw me! Scho orra saw me!
Noo, wi’ Courage Ablaze an’ unco Wreððe
Ascendin’
To orra desire! to orra possess,
To hae IT! To unco hae IT! back again!
Ah! LEOFLIC IREN HÁTAN!
The Lone Airn-Wanderer, SUNDORGENGA, Ah!
Frae yon Auld Götaland:

LAND GUMCYNNES GEAT-MÆCGUM,
BEADWE-HEARPENÆGLES EORÐRÍCE,

My ain Lost, the OVERMAN'S HIS-SEL!
Great, Great Mjölnir's Warlike Orrah!
Wi’ Bluish Skye-Gore, frae Thae Cauld Heights
Unco! Verra, Verra Guid O'erhuman,
Hynne, neist tae the Forgotten Firey Ruin!
Totally 'Yont-Human! The DAZZLIN' OVERMAN'S AIN!
Ah noo say! Ah noo tae the Moorlan Stormy Cluds yell! Orrah!
Skye-Imbued

Thundir-Bluid:

NORÐÞUNRES WÆLDRÉOR

Tae feel IT hynne! Tae unco feel IT:
Great Guid Warlike Orrah!
Total, unco Total, in Full New Skye-Gore IT!
Verra, Verra Thor-Hye!
Frae afarre! yet tae me Verra, Verra Skye-Close!
Rumblin' Skye-Destruction o’ mine!
Hynne Total Skye-Rebirth O'erhuman,
An' the Roaran', unco Skye-Roaran', IT!
Great Kvasir's Warlike Orrah!
Afore the Verra Disc o' the Full Mowne Murky,
Orra, unco, IT! in the East Dreary skye-risin', IT!
'Yont-Human, Great Jörð's Orrah!
Supreme Transformation!

WULFES GENIWUNG,

Wi' the New Skye-Knowledge Scorchin'
Owre, owre imbued!
An' in the Soarin' Zenith-Fyre
Deeply, deeply hawkan IT, hynne!
Thro' Thad Cauld Moorlan Secret
Ah am noo about to owre yell,
Frae the Thundir's yon Rumblin'
Verra, Verra Skye-Pride!
Intae my Veins Fiery
Fore’er an’ e’er, wi’ Ragin’ Skye-Bluish Hue
Noo flowin’,
Com on! Com on, hynne!
Dearest Mountayn-Thunderbolt o’ mine!
Taukin’ Ah noo am to ye stylle!
Struck me deep! struck me noo, Ah yell!
Great Fair Thor's Orrah! deep,

ÍSENSCÚR,

For fully Covered! orra Skye-Covered hynne!
In Feudal Skye-Airn Indestructible
Am Ah heare! for ye noo!
Tae attract hynne! out o' Thad Norland Verra Blue!
As the Skye-Magnet attracts the Rare Shinin' Metal,
Yer deadly Skye-Rage wpon Airn-Skynne o' mine!
Tae catalyze hynne yer loudly tellin',
Frae Yon Abysmal Distance! Lone Skye-Voice,

SCÍRHAM IC! BEADWE LÍGETUNG,

Whyle Ah stylle! intae Hye Lowes unco climb
Thad Cauld Rocky Soil,
Whyle Ah stylle unco tell
Thad Vision, most Solitarie o’ mine,
Whyle Ah stylle restlessly, implacably seek
My ain Lost Skye-Sel!
The Hye, Verra Hye! Adamantine Person o' the OVERMAN!

SUNSCÍNE SEOLF OND LINDGEBORGA,

Want Ah! truly unco, want Ah! owre want Ah, hynne!
Beguid an’ Great Guid! Hôm Loga Himna Orrah!
Noo, richte noo!
This kin Ah! still noo unco truly yell!
'Yont yon Whunstane Stronghold's Mirk Well!
Feel, unco o'erhumanly live, hynne!
Thad Continual Flashin’
Frae the Grayish Leaden Moorlan Cluds
Noo the Zenith-Sunne Invisible behynde
Hye-glorifyin’!
Thro’ the Verra Tundir Voice o'er an' o'er echoin,
In shape o’ Norland Hammer frae the Battle, IT!
Intae Veins Skye-Bluish o’ mine!

NORÐANWINDE! BLÓDWRACU OND FÆHÞ,

Next tae my Feudal Airn-Side noo still wounded
By Enemy an' Cowardly, tae Human, tae Cowardly!
Frae the Distance, hynne! shot at me!
Still Mortal Arrows!
Nae Fear, hynne! tae Earthly! tae Miserable,
Surpassingly Miserable, IT! unto the Verra Core!
To the Hye Fair-Haired Gods,
In Strang Norland Dignity an' Supreme Pow'r,
An' Skye-Vengeance frae Enraged Sacral Thule blowin'!
Noo! thro' Noble an' Future Skye-Gore o' mine schawe!
In my stylle the Verra Lightnin':

VICTORIAE SANGUINISQUE SIGNUM
OVERMAN

Noo implacably approachin'!
An’ ye! Sweyt an’ Scaur Enemies, not Quhone all ye!
Ye still cannae, cannae hear?
Yell an’ Furious Bellum, aye!
Frae Loud Thundir-Voice o’ mine?
Skye-Crash frae my Battle-Wounds IT:

MĪN HEORUDREÓR GLADAÞ,

Wi'in yer ignoble ears noo!
Wnto the Sacral Open Blue
Risin’ unco Freed!
Ye still want to *** to orra Heaven?
Hynne, heyre Ah am!
Com on! Com on! All ye Cowards!
Thys is whate Ah orra cam for!
Fecht me! Hand-to-Hand Strang!
Do signal the Attack!

ÞINE UNEARH GÚÐÞRACU OND GEWEALC,
ÞUNORRÁDE, MĪN HILDERÆS!

Glitterin’ Skye Axe-Blade o’ mine winna, IT
Cease to wait to orra shatter,
In a single Thundir-Blow, all yer Targes!
Com on! Com on hynne! ye Cowards!
Do noo hae the Warlike Verra Guts to taste
Gleamin' VARGS UNDA Alone o' mine!
O'er ye thys single Thundir-Blow pourin'!
Ye want still to unco give
Unto Enraged Airn o’ mine, Wonner IT, lo!
Yer Hand-to-Hand, hynne Feudal an’ Essential
Battle-Bluid?

HEOLFRE ANWIG,

Wha hynne want to be the First?
Wha hynne ready is noo to unco suffer
Frae my Verra Skye-Airn noo Skye-Flashin'!
Gunnþinga Called, IT!
Hys, alongside the Skye-Foreign, Nadir's ain!
Miserable, tae earthly, tae human orra Defeat?
Fecht Ah! for the Glare an’ Hye Glory O'erhuman
Frae Bein’ as Pow’r, Bluish-Firey IT!

ÞUNORES HAMOR,

Hynne heyre glowran at ye Ah unco stand!
Wi’ Great Clan-Vermillion Wyld Wraith o’ mine
Hye, Norland-Fair, an’ orra Warlike!
Wi’ Battle-Axe o’ mine gleamin’,
Unner yon War-Glare, ne’er, ne’er settin’,
An’ the Sunne’s ain Disc Refulgent,

BLŌDE ANWEALD, HWÍTE HEAÐUSIGEL,

Wnto deep the Wanwordie World, Mirk hynne, IT!
Richte, orra Ancestral an' Warlike Richte!
Greatly, unco greatly! Flamin'-Firey an' Zenith-Supreme, IT!
Verra Iron-Curse Blindin'!
An’ He cam! the Thunderbolt at length
Unto me He orra cam!
Thus struck waes Ah!
My Flesh, an' Bluid, an' Spirit!
Intae Thor's ain Skye-Force
At once turnin'
Tae greatly, tae unco! Verra Guid Orrah! see
Thro' Nyow Total Skye-Blindness O'erhuman o' mine!
Altogether hynne noo, Great Guid Saxon Orrah!
The Forerunnin’ Presence noo Devastatin’
Wnto me, stick-an-stowe, noo orra IT! comin',

IRSERN-SCÉAWERE IC,
CWIOFYRES BURHWEARD,
BÆLÞRACE OND BRYNEWIELMA GEBORGA,

Frae thowa, IT! in Primal Wreððe

Skye-Essences
Or
Twæȝe Strang Sunnes

Hwenne! Beguid an’ Great, Great Warlike Orrah!
Out-owre Hye Mountayn Glade, sic unco Wide:
The Cauld Vitrified Fort  
Wha's Sharp Surroundin' Gleamin' Wa
Thro' Hye Heat Monumental generated!
TAP O' NOTH waes:

FÆRBRYNE GLÆSFÆTES STANWEORC,

In Thundir-Bluid an’ Frame,
An' further unco Skye-Imbued Ah!
Wi' the Earthly Unidentified Energy
Frae thad Towerin' Verra Steid,
Noo still walkin’,
At length thare surveyed hynne Ah!
Wi’ Fyre-Sight, Deep-Penetratin’ IT,
An’ Auldfarran, Lucid Reason o’ mine,
The Heaven’s Blue Verra Vault:
Proud Storm-Shrine, Dearest o’ mine!
Ane wi’ my Skye-Rage Hye,  
An’ the Atmosphere, waes IT, waes IT,
Intolerably close, yet unco Potent, Heimdall-Divine!
Hynne beheld Ah, lo!
TWA ESSENCES O’ FYRE!

BRYNEWIELMUM CAMPWUDA,

Intangible, Untouchable, Impenetrable, baith Thay,
O’er the Whole Uranic Skye-Arch,
Their Skye-Dominion an’ Primordial Skye-Dignity
Unco haudin’:
The Essence o’ the ΛOΓΟΣ an’ the Essence o’ the REAL, Thay:

STĪELENRA-HEÁÐUSIGELA FÝRBÆREAN
GÆDERSCYPE OND GLÉDEGESA
ÞĀ HLŪDE BECWÆDON,

Twa! Tangible, Visible MICHTY SRANG SUNNES!
Twa, hynne! Let me stylle noo distinctly remember!
Unco Martially an' Norland Colourful!
Great Orrah! Rotatin', Thay A'! Thay A'!
Great Lone Sight o' mine!
Splintered nae! Round Shields o' War Dazzlin':
Ský Skǫglar frae the Auld Wondie Hólmganga, Thay!
Frae Auld! Verra, indeed Verra primevaly Auld!
Thro' Deep the Firey Tyme Conquerin', an' Ruthless,
An' towardis the Fleysche, Fallacious hynne Mortal, unforgivin'!
Crucial Gory Soil in yon 537 A.D. CAMLANN called
Thad haes bin, IT! a Witness tae my ain Shed Battle-Bluid!

BRYTENCYNING,
IC WIÞGEHÆFTE HINE, BLÁCAN ÁNWÍGE,
EFENLÍCAN GÚÐHERE BLÆDE,

Meany, Meany Kingdomes, an' Onslaughts,
A' Bluish-Ironclad Thay, ago!   
Hynne noo, whileas Ah stylle speak, Immortal am, an' waes awready!
Yet Thad nae, nae enough IT proved
Afore the Presence Devastatin' o' the OVERMAN!
Stylle, Ah knew, HE noo in waitin'!
HE WHA! HE WHA! HE WHA unco:
The Verra ENS! thro' the Dazzlin' Skye-Bluish Revenge o' HYS,  
Hynne Mine!
Tae the Yieldin' Ground o'ershadows! an' in an Ultimate Whyte War
Flashin' tae Fathomless Eternity, in Gore Shinin' defeats!
Intense Meanin' Primordial o' Battle Fierce baith Thae!
Hynne unco embodyin',
Afore thys, thro’ Verra Lowe penetratin’,
An’ wi’ Hye, Verra, Verra Skye-Hye!
Thundir-Bluid Thunderous
Awa, awa flowin’ IT, orra!
Loneliest Vision o’ mine:

GEBYLD,

When, Great Thundir’s Orrah!
Wi’ a speed Wicked yet Prodigious, lo! Sublime,
Closer, closer, wi’ the Impetus frae Twa Skye-Rams Wyld
They orra cam!
An’ in a Common Skye-Embrace!
Their Dazzlin’ Blades o’ Vibrant Steel!
Hynne crossin’,
Thus unco, owre imbued waes, waes Ah!
Wi' Thad Verra Hye Steel-Glare, Ah!
Wi' Thad intae Deep Fyre afore Wounded Step o' Mine meltin',
Feudal, unco Feudal Skye-Knowledge, an' Airn-Revenge!
An' advanced wi' Firm Martial Gait hynne, towardis
The Lonely Gleamin', Flashingly Firey,
Rewb-Gem o' Moorlan War Forgotten,
Thro' ITS Sheer Inner Foirce hynne unco Reddenin'!

HERECIRME, RÉOD GIMCYNN,

Whileas the Stellar Wynde silently ensued
Frae Thad Last Titanic Encounter an’ Battle,
Wi’ unco deafenin’ Core-Clash,
Frae Thor’s His-sel, again,
The Whispered Warlike Voice!
Hynne intae Ane Nucleus Whyte
At length blendin’, afore wnto me
Noo orra comin’ IT:

The Shield-Blinding:

DÆGSCIELD GEBLENDAÞ

For rendered orra, orra sightless!
Waes Ah noo,
Yet still able to distinctly behold,
An’ e’en deeper, unco deeper! Great Warlike Orrah!
The Verra Dazzlin’ Core, IT!
Wi’ Verra Bluish Flash, an’ the Skye-Gore
Frae Thundir-Eyes noo o’ mine
Sheer Sharp, IT!
For Thad Sudden Thundir-Blindin’ o’ Mine!
Ah am noo taukin’ abowt,
Great Dunnottar’s an’ Tantallon’s Orrah!
Gift Supreme frae Hye the Zenith-Skye!
Orra Skye-Generous hynne, IT!
Intae an All-Powerful, unco All-Powerful, Ah say!
An’ All-Seein’ Thundir-Force
Thundir-O’erhuman, hynne frae the Thundir ‘Yont-Human!
IT, in Hye Fyre! Skye-turned,
An’ New Unknown Fiery Demons IT
Orra, orra! unveiled:

ÁGLÆCAN WUNDORSÉON,

Athwart Noble Airn-Person o’ mine,
Thro’ the Cauld Blast frae Thad Moorlan Wynde
O’er an’ o’er fallin’,
For the Verra Skye-Vision o’ the OVERMAN,
Guid Orrah! Great Warlike Thundir’s Orrah!
Unco Profound IT waes!
An’ unco killed IT the Unprepared,
For waes IT for nae Unworthy Skellum  
To Feud an’ Sword Foreign!
An’ the Whole Wnivers, in a Verra Flash,
Thro’ the Same Auld an’ New Thunderbolt
Ah waes lookin’ for,
Penetrated IT orra waes:
THE HERACLITEAN, DEVASTATINGLY PROPHETIC, IT!
FIERY SKYE-FORCE!
FRAE THE VERRA AIRN-PERSON
STEEL-CONCRETE, IT!
DAZZLINGLY 'YONT-TELLURIAN AN' SKYE-CENTRAL!
O' THE OVERMAN:
THE 'YONT-HUMAN HYNNE NAE HUMAN!
THAD LIKE CONQUERIN', RAGIN' WHYTE-FYRE,
WI'IN THE YIELDIN' MURKY MIRK VOID SHINES!
INCANDESCENT O'ERHUMAN VERRA BODY!
THAD MINE AIN, AH KNEW,
SUNE AN' SYNE! UPON THAE BENS DREARY,
IT SHALL, GREAT GUID ORRAH! BE!
AN' WHA'S NOBLE AN' SOLEMN NAIM
HYE! HYE! THE ETHER'S AIN SKYE-SUBSTANCE
INTAE ALL-FERVID LOWES AN' METALLIC BRILLIANCY
TURNIN'

ΥΠΕΡ-ΚΕΡΑΥΝOΣ

WAES! THUNDIR-CONSCIOUS, AN’ DIRECTIN’,
THUNDIR-DESTROYIN’, HYNNE CRAETIN',
O’ER ALL THUNDIR-DOMINATIN’,
TO THE INFINITE UNCO THUNDIR-GROWIN’,
MINE AIN BLUISH MOORLAN BLUID
TO THE INFINITE ORRA THUNDIR-FEEDIN’,
Together hynne wi’ my Arteries o’ Skye-Blue
In Baith Spirit an’ the Verra Flow,
When orra struck again waes Ah!
Wnto Verra Death, an’ e’en ‘yont! waur e’en waur!
Skye-Waur, Great Warlike Orrah!
Towardis the Verra Dazzlin’
Skye-Weregild o’ Gowd:

GOLDWEARDA FORNÉÐAN,

For the Loneliest Vision o’ mine
To in Fyre, still unco blinded Ah!
Distinctly behold,
At bein’ hynne, Great Warlike Orrah!
The Sole Ironclad Witness
O’ my by-gone Path Aflame,
Intae ‘Yont-Human Will o’ mine!
Noo unco forged, Great Hye Orrah!
Wnto the Auld Bluid-Rock o’ Rebel Sacrifice
Far awa! in the Snowy Caucasus
Nae longer IT chained!

HRINGUM SWEORCAN,

Meanwhile, lo! At my Mirk Cloaked Back,
Behold ye! Another Identical Skye-Fusion!
For Twa Dazzlin’ Whyte Glows,
Symmetrical Unco Mirrors They,
As if frae Myrddin’s ain Magic,
To View o’ mine orra appeared:
Perfect Pow’r o’ Infinite Reflection, They!
Mine ain Past, my ain Future!
Baith embodyin’,
An’ waes stylle Ah!
Intae the Verra Middle o’ the Glare
Standin’
Wi’ Gleamin’ Claymore drawn, Dearest o’ mine!
Thundir-Hurt stylle, afore noo the

Destroyer of the Past:

ÍSIGE CWYLMING

An’ noo, Guid, Verra, Verra Guid o’ Gowd
Warlike Orrah!
Thus willed Ah! the OVERMAN!

BISENE WRECEND,

Freish an’ Auld! Airn-Feudal an’ Strang!

DUGUÞMIHTUM OND HEORUSWENGE,
ĒACEN BIÞ ŌFER-MANN,

Wi’ Michty Inner Energy o’ mine
Great Feudal Orrah! unco Alone!
Wha's Sole Hye Naim Firey OVERWILL!
IT unco, oan the Gory Battlefield, Ah weall knew IT waes!
Frae the Verra Skye-Dragun! A' Destroyin' hynne HE!
Intae the Deep Fyre, wi' HYS Beastly Wings thus orra spread,
Unco, prodigiously o'er A' HE hoverin',
Towardis the Past allwayes Dreadful e'en, hynne!
Wi’ HYS Scales o’ Enraged Gowd,
The Shinin’ Horror wi’in the Skye, IT!

FÝRDRACAN GLÆD GRYREBRÓGA
SÉ FORÞGEWITENNESSE UNWYRCÐ,

Skye-Perfect! intae the Mirror-Glare Image o' mine, HE!
The OVERMAN o' Deep Fyre,
Th'gither wi' my ain Reflected Bluid, hynne!
Noo, in Feudal Tartane-War stylle thundir-flowin'!
More intensely! o'er an' o'er in Steel hynne,
HYS Supreme Presence greatly tae the Infinite!
Orra skye-increasing!
Intae the noo Unleashed Skye-Pow’r!
Unto my Wounded Spirit o'er an' o'er
Hynne HE skye-returnin’!
As ane wi’ the Moorlan Rumblin’ Thunderbolt
Ah waes lookin’ for,
The Sacral Dazzlin’ Chain Mail Ablaze:

SCÉAWERE-HRÉOH,

In the Skye-Identity e'en most Skye-Asolute IT!
My ain! HE orra, unco flashingly wearin’,
Thus willed Ah! Past o’ mine back IT!
In Feudal Person o’ HYS, my ain! empowered:
GORY GHAIST! by-gone Immortal o’ mine IT!
Still orra Alive an’ Fiery!
Flowin’ an’ flashin’
Thad not Identical unto ITSELF IT waes!
Hynne unto ITSELF most identical!
Quhenne! in Feudal Airn-Flesh o’ HYS,
Great Warlike Orrah!
Thro’ Ragin’ Skye an’ Earthly Pride at once IT,
Most fleshily, intae Hye Fyre Purifin’
Waes incarnated,
Thus willed Ah, Future o’ mine, tae, hynne!
Wi’ the Iyce Cross o’er Moorlan Coat o’ Arms,
Frae Noble Dundarg’s Hye Wa,
In Feudal Steel, Greater, unco Greater IT!
Shimmerin’,
For the Past lived in the Verra Bluid o’ HYS,
Thynce thro' Hye Firey Gore Immortal:  

FULMINE VICTOR
MAGNUS INVICTUSQUE
OVERMAN

Let me Thys, NOBLE GLAMIS’ GREAT ORRAH!
Truly, unco truly yell! waes IT potentiated,
An’ sae waes the Future, stylle my Verra, Verra Ain!
Wnto Dazzlin’ Airn-***** o’ mine  
Wi’ Increasin’ Ocean’s Rage Tempestuous
Fore’er returnin’,

CRÆFTUM OND RÝNE STÍELE!
BEADUWÆPEN,

Intae Single Will O’erhuman
An’ Unforgivin’ Continuum, as Ane,
Whare Ye! Dearest Hye Thundir o’ mine!
At the Verra Skye-Zenith,
Still silently dwell!  
Hynne willed Ah! my ain Image
Frae the Past! Frae the Future! wi’ unco Force,
At once IT emergin’,
Towardis the Past! Towardis the Future! wi’ orra Dignity,
At once IT rushin’,
Intae the Implacable Spiral o’ Becomin’
Thad Ane wi’ the Verra Vortex o’ Return
IT! Great Warlike Orrah! waes,
The Past burnin’, the Future hynne IT affirmin’,
An’ unto the Verra Skye-Core!
GREAT HÖÐR’S AN’ WOTAN’S ORRAH!
Directed,
Noo afore my ain wi’ Fyre Wounded Eyes,
Thro’ each Revolution, ITS unco Strength,
Great Warlike Norland Orrah!
Unto the Fathomless Fiery Infinite
Increasin’:
The Verra Mountayn Thunderbolt!
Ah waes lookin’ for,
For the Increase o’ Pow’r ne’er Identical
Unto itself IT waes,
Hynne waes unto Itself most identical!
As noo met wi’ Ah

THE DESTROYER O’ THE PAST,
THE CREATOR O’ THE FUTURE,
O’ LYFE FORE’ER CHANGIN’
THE GREAT AFFIRMATOR,
HYE SKYE-VEINS O’ HYS
O’ERHUMAN, MY AIN!
THE IRONCLAD INCARNATOR
AN’ THE FEUDAL WITNESS!
O’ MY BURNAN MOUNTAYN-PATH
DYIN’:
THUNDIR-FRAME O’ MINE, HE!
STRONGER! STRONGER!
O’ER AN’ O’ER,
UNTO MY BY-GONE DAYS BLEEZAN,
AN’ THE ROARAN’ FUTURE!
AS MOLTEN SKYE-GOWD INCORRUPTIBLE
NOO RETURNIN’,
WHAR IMMORTALITY ITSELF HYNNE,
IN FORE’ER INCRESIN’
HYE FYRE AN’ BATTLE-GORE,
O’ERSHADOWED IT WAES,  
INTAE DEEP THE WHYTE SPIRAL,
SKYE-RECURRENCE INCANDESCENT, IT!
ANE WI’ THE LONE IRONCLAD IMAGE
UNTO VERRA, VERRA PERFECTION!
SKYE-SPECULAR O' MINE!
SCORCHIN' AN' SHININ' AN' UNCO TANGIBLE, HE!
THE CLOAKED SKYE-FIGURE
THAD WAES NOO
'YONT THAD AULD FORGOTTEN WA,
MY BLEEDIN' SKYE-COURAGE
IN WARLIKE SILENCE AWAITIN',
FRAE THE DEPTHS O' THE ROTATIN’ SKYE-ENERGY,

WEALHFÆRELDES DÆGWÓMA,

PROUDLY AN' INVINCIBLY SKYE-STANDIN'!
WHAR, GUID SKYE ORRAH!
FIERY WOE INTAE FEUDAL STEEL MELTIN',
DEEPER AN' NOBLER IT PROVED!
AN’ WI’ DAZZLIN' SKYE-REVENGE
O'ER AN' O'ER, GREAT THOR'S ORRAH!
IT SUPREMELY, IN BLUISH NORLAND AIRN FLASHED!

For, lo! the Verra Blank frae the Past
Together wi’ ITS Inevitable Feud-Foreign Woe
Hauntin’
Thad cannae be avoided hynne!
Mirk an’ Invisible, IT!
It nae longer existed! It nae longer existed!
For unco filled noo IT waes
By the Devourin’ Lone Lowe an’ the Verra Frame:
The Chain-Mailed, Heated in Airn War-Wame
O’ THE OVERMAN! HE:
WILL, AS THE VERRA INNER ENERGY!
VIGOUR, AS THE VERRA INNER WILL!
FRAE THE PAST, FRAE THE FUTURE!
TANGIBLE, VISIBLE, INCARNATED,
NOBLE WYLD DRAGON,
SKYE-BEAST O’ MINE,

GRYREBRÓGA OND FÆRGRYRE,
WUNDORA WYRM! ÚHT-SCEAÞA HÉ!

FYRE-WOUNDED IN NAE GOWD-CAGE, HE!
O'ER SKYE-SPIRIT O' MINE,
HE! HYNNE, UNCO SKYE-FLYIN'!
WI’ HYS SKYE-GORE O’ER THE BARS INVISIBLE
TRULY MINE AIN! GREAT GUID ORRAH!
DOWNE, DOWNE! NOO
LIKE THE PUREST RHODIUM
WI' THE FYRE-BLUISH
SKYE-ARTERIES O' THE LONE THUNDERBOLT
AH WAES LOOKIN' FOR
AGAIN UNCO BLENDIN',
Unto at Braemar the Verra Battle-Gore,
Afore the Lang Hour, in Kyng Eochaid’s
Martial Hidden Lore,
By the Force o’ Flowin’ Lava
Frae the Cauld an’ Dreary Highlands Implacable
Echoin’
Thad Becomin’ as Increase in Pow’r
IT, Great, Great Orrah! waes,
Backwards intae Tyme! Intae the Future hynne!
For the OVERWILL kan IT!
Destroye the Feud-Foreign Gory Bygane!
When o’er the Gleamin’ Skye-Cuirass
O’ the HYE OVERMAN ALONE!
IT lies visible an’ yieldin’ an’ razed an’ burnin'!
When o’er the New Soil o’ Dazzlin’ Alabaster
Conquerin’
Intae Deep the Future, thro’ Renewed Rage
An' yon Incandescent Skye-Thundir!
Ah waes lookin' for,
HE! My Specular Skye-Incarnation!
Fore'er orra creates!
Whileas thae words, in Roaran’ Wreððe,
Flame-Wounded,
Ah still loudly whisper,
But lo! Great Warlike Orrah!
THE IYCE CROSS FIREY
O’er Mirk War-Tartan, Dearest o’ mine!
Next to Dundarg’s Hye Wa, Ah well remember!
Embroidered,
Close to my Ruby Brooch strangely IT,
Unco strangely, like a Verra Premonition
Gleamed, afore noo

The Mirror-Fusion:

WĒOHES MELTAN

When, lo! Airn an’ Thundir!
Great Immortal Warlike Orrah!
Thro’ the Loud Whisper o’ the Thundir
Ah waes lookin’ for,  
The Image o’ the OVERMAN
Detached ITSELF, lo!
Frae baith the Surfaces in the Twa Opposed Mirrors:
Frae baith thae Reflectin' Skye-Furnaces Gleamin'!
Afore Noble Feudal Person o' mine,
Unco Sightless! Still unco Skye-Sightless!
E'en more! noo unco Sightless!
HE hynne, orra Ah beheld cam!
Wha’s Supreme Hieland Emanatin’ Force
Frae the Directin’ Skye-Lightnin’, IT!
Ah waes lookin’ for,
Na orra, orra Prodigious Sight!
Nae e’en Vör’s, or Heimdallur’s, or Snotra’s Ain!
If nae in Thundir Skye-Blinded as noo Mine!
Cuid, cuid IT! humanly, still tae humanly!  
This noo Ah! in Thad Skye-Fyre ‘Yont-Human!
Soarin’ heare in Dignity o’er Tap o’ Noth’s
Black Vitreous Smeddum an’ Cauld Martial Sand,
Cannae, cannae doubt!
Thro’ Thad Flashin’ Skye-Reflection withstand,
Frae the Past! frae the Future, hynne!
Great Warlike Orrah!
To encounter Spirit Ablaze o’ mine,
To Unleash Wyld Beast Immortal
Thad My Verra Mountayn Path  
Guarded still,
Some Bluish Bluid Stains IT leavin’
O’er the Michty an’ Pure Glass still:
My ain! frae the Clash o’ Life,  
An’ noo! Great, Great Warlike Orrah!
A LIGHNIN’-SHADE IRONCLAD!
Unto me, ITS Skye-Bluish Garb o’ Hye Skye-War!
In an Identity an’ Heat, e’en the Most Absolute!
To Verra Perfection reflectin',
Towardis Feudal Person o’ mine IT noo!
Wi’ Slow Skye-Gait,
Devastatingly, IT advanced,
An’ when afore me at length
IT standin’,
Thro’ the Loud Sound o’ the Thundir, lo!
Ah waes still lookin’ for,
In a Great Whoosh an’ Roaran’ Rumble
Non-Human Deep Voice, IT!
Frae the Past! Frae the Future!
Frae the Verra Brunan’ Throat
O’ the LIGHTNIN’ HIS-SEL!
Ah waes still looking for,
Wi’ Spiral Exhalations unner the Form, schorcin’ IT!
O’ Just Anger frae Primeval hynne Most Real
Forgotten Feudal Lore
The Hand-to-hand Wapin-Storm Harsh!
An’ Skye-Revenge, still Mine Ain!
Unco an’ owre loaded,
As Maddenin’ Heated-Airn, IT again!
Unto the Cauld Blue Vault o’ the Verra Skye
Wi’ orra, orra Dignity
Lonely risin’,  
Thae Verra Syllables!
The VERRA SKYE-INCARNATOR O'ERHUMAN!
Intae Deep noo, Great Orrah!
The Abysmal Skye-Core Bluish-Aflame, IT! o' the

Total Specular Skye-Force:

BRYNEWELMES WORDHLÉOÐOR

The Skye-Conscience, Víðarr-Hye o’ mine!
Most distinctly! Great Warlike Orrah!
HE, THE BLUISH INCARNATION HYE
O' THE HYE LIGHTNIN' ITSELF!
Ah waes lookin' for,
Wi' a Skye-Cowntenance Storm-Hidden
Flashin’ frae Deep the Obscured Skye-Mirk
Thro’ a Battle-Scar intae the Fyre gleamin'
O'er HYS left Sword-Offended Cheek:
Thys cuid Ah! unco Blinded, see!
Intae Deep the Skye-Unknown,
Still, Great Guid Glamis’ Orrah!
Stick-an-stowe a Wonner, Mine Ain!
Thro' HYS remarkably Echoin',
Non-human, hynne 'Yont human!
VERRA SKYE-RUMBLIN'!
Noo unco earthily uttered:

YE, WOLF-WOUNDED!
AN’ PROUD, IN BLACK TARTAN O’ WAR
MUFFLED,
KEEK AT ME! KEEK AT ME NOO!
IN NAE TAE EARTHLY TOWMOND!
DO NOO HYNNE LISTEN TAE ME!
YE, NOO FYRE-IRONCLAD WOUNDED!
THE HYE NORLAND GODS INTAE OWRE FYRE
STYLLE HYNNE HONORIN'!
BETTYR BIDE AN' DIE OAN THE NOBLE BATTLEFIELD GORY,
AN' STYLLE, 'YONT BAITH LIEFES AN' DEATH,
FORE'ER ALIVE HYNNE BE!
THEYNE BIDE A MISERABLE LIEFES!

WULFE BLŌDGA HEONAN!
ÞŪ BLADESUNGA OND LÉOMENA HEOFONFYR,
WACA BYRNSWEORDES WIÐ GEHATUM!

FOR DAINGEROUS! VERRA, INTAE THE FEUDAL FYRE DEEP, IT! DAINGEROUS!
MUST TREOWE IDEAS, IN VERRA HYE LOWES, BE!
FOR THE VERRA MICHTY, WHYTE ZENITH-SUNNE
AN' THE ALLWAYES UNKOWN MIRK DEATH!
THE SAME THAY! GREAT THOR'S NORLAND ORRAH! ARE,
FOR THE SELECTED FEUDAL MAN, IRONCLAD HE!
AS YE, IN THAE HYE LOWES, UNCO ARE!
NOO AFORE ME! INTAE THE AULD LONE TARGE-REFLECTION
THAD IS, WAES, AN' SHALL IT BE, THINE!
HYNNE, HEARE AH AM! FOR FRAE THE AULD SHIELD-MIRROR YER RICHTE SKYE-VENGENCE!
FOR YER AIN SKYE-FORM AFORE YE HATH RISEN NOO!
FOR FREISH VALUES ARE NOO OWRE NEEDED!
WI'IN DEEP PRIMAL SKYE-FYRE UNCO SKYE-LIVED!
SAE, SKYE-LIVE THAIM! UNCO DRAM THAIM A’!
WHATE'ER THE RISK INFERNAL, AN' MOORLAN AMBUSH!

GÁSTCWALE HELRÚNENA FORNÉÐAN,

THRO’ HYE BLUISH SKYE-LOWES, SKYE-DESTROYIN’ THAY
WI’IN YER AIN LONE SKYE-VOICE IT NOO!
FRAE AFARRE! FRAE UNCO AFARRE RUMBLIN’,
FOR CURSED IS THE FLEETIN' HOUR!
AN' SAE MUST BE CONQUERED, IT! GREAT ORRAH! AYE!
IN YER SUPERIOR BLUID NOO O'ERHUMAN, MINE AIN!
FOR BRANDED HAE AH
RUDDY SKYE-FLESH O’ MINE
THAD WAES, IS, AN’ SHALL IT BE!
BY THYS VERRA, VERRA SKYE-IMAGE HYNNE,
YER AIN!
WI’ THE IYCE-CROSS FIERY
FRAE HYE THE THUNDIR’S LOUD VOICE,
IN NAE WHISPER DAMNABLE, NOR AIRN-FOREIGN!
AH NOO ORRA TELL:
YER SYMMETRICAL LONE SKYE-FORCE:
THE VERRA LONE THUNDIR-BLUID!
YER AIN LONE SKYE-WRAITH IRONCLAD!
THRO' ETERNAL SKYE-POW’R,
AN' OUT O’ THE BLUISH LONE SKYE-REVENGE
O’ER AN’ O’ER UNCO, O’ERHUMANLY MIRRORIN’!
TO YE HYNNE OWRE IN DEEP FYRE RETURNIN’,
YER AIN WANTIN’ SKYE-HALF, HYNNE!
TH'GITHER WI’ YER SKYE-SPIRIT!
IN HYE LOWES NOO UNTO THE CORE SKYE-DABBED!
A' THIS! A’ THIS! AH SAY! AH TRULY YELL!
TH'GITHER WI' THE LAST SKYE-PRIZE!
INTAE HYE THE SKYE-BLAZE,
THE HAIL ENEMY LAND HARSH NOO
FRAE CAULD HORIZON TO CAULD HORIZON
OWRE CROSSIN’,
A' THIS! A' THIS! AH ALLON, TRULY!
YER MIRROR SKYE-DOWBILL IMMORTAL!
THRO' STEEL CORE-METALLIC, IN HYE SKYE-FYRE AM!
ABYSMAL LAVA-BLUID O’ MINE!
FLOWIN’
FRAE HYE RED HEL, IT! THY LANE BEHOLD!
YER AIN!
INTAE DEEP THE FUSION-GLARE,
BLASTED SKYE-FURNACE IT!
UNREACHABLE, UNFATHOMABLE, MOST TANGIBLE, IT!
THE VERRA FRAME
LESURELY, NEXT TO YE IN BATTLE
STROLLIN’!
THE LONE INCARNATION
AN’ THE SKYE-ROAR
FRAE THE VERRA THUNDERBOLT
YE WERE LOOKIN’ FOR
HYNNE YER FUTURE, YER BYGANE:
NAE DIFFERENCE! THAA ARE MINE AIN!
INTAE THE HYE FYRE, FRAE YER TANGIBLE
SKYE-WILL! THAD AH NOO HEARE AM,
FOR SKYE-ENERGY CANNAE DERIVE FRAE NOTHINGNESS!
NOR UNTO NOTHINGNESS KIN IT RETURN!
HYNNE WILL, 'YONT DEATH,
THRO' THE LANG AN’ BLUISH
SKYE-LOWE
YE WERE LOOKIN’ FOR,
IMMORTAL AS CONQUERIN' PROVES,
STILL, WI'IN RAGIN' AN' VISCERAL
DEEP PRIMAL FYRE, YER AIN!
FOR YE SHALL STILL LIVE YER LIFE AGAIN,  
THIS TYME INTAE THE HYE SKYE-POW'R!
WI' ITS NEW ESSENCE SELF-OVERCOME,
HYNNE DO UNCO LIVE NOO!
THAD VERRA GORE HEARE,
FRAE MY BLEEZAN OPEN SCARS, YER AIN!
FOR THE WORN PAST DWELLS DEFEATED
IN THE FUTURE AS EMPOW'RED!
INTAE THE STEEL-BLUISH IMAGE AH HEARE AM!
NOO AFORE THINE SKYE-BLINDED EYES
THRO' THE LONE HYE LOWE WOUNDED,
THAD ARE ALSO MINE!
IN NAE SPECTRAL FYRE, HYNNE!
STICK-AN-STOWE, AN' VERRA VERRA SUNE!
YER AIN!
WI'IN THE HYE ZENITH-THUNDIR HYNNE,
YE WERE LOOKIN' FOR,
O'ER AN' O'ER FORE'ER LIVIN',  
AN' THRO' THE HIELAND FLOWIN 'LAVA:
THE BECOMIN' IN POW'R FORE'ER RENEWED
THRO' THAD SKYE-BLUID HYNNE!  
FLASHINGLY STREAMIN'
AS A CONQUERIN' WYLD FYRE-RIVER
FRAE NOBLE HYNNE SUPERIOR GORE,
DOWNE, DOWNE!
INTAE THE VERRA WHYTE CHASM, AN' FLASHIN' ABYSS!
FRAE YON SHARP AN' SHININ' AN' TOWERIN' MIRK ROCKS!
AN' THIS SACRIFICIAL BLUISH BLUID INCANDESCENT
FRAE O'ERHUMAN LIFE STILL WOUNDED, MINE!
WAES, AN' IS, AN' SHALL IT BE!
BEHOLD YE! UNCO SEE YE, NOO!
YE, O'ERHUMANLY BLINDED!
HE WHA! THE DREARY VOID O' DARKNESS
CANNAE, CANNAE! IN ANY MANNER NOO KNOW!
HYNNE IN HIELAND SKYE-RAGE,
AN' HYE! O'ER THE FEUDAL THRONE IMMORTAL,
AN' HEARE! OAN THE SURFACE O' THIS SKYE-MIRROR!
WAES, AN' IS, AN' SHALL IT BE!
WI'IN THE MELTIN' UNTO THE COSMIC CORE
SKYE-GLARE, YER AIN!
AN' NOO! DO ADVANCE!
DO TAKE A STROLL INTAE THE HYE SKYE-GORE!
GANG AYONT! GANG AYONT! AH SAY!
'YONT EVERYTHING! ‘YONT LIFE AN’ DEATH E’EN!
GANG AYONT!
AN' WHATE SHALL YE IN THE END SEE?
AT THE BOTTOM O' THE WHYTE CHASM FIERY?
YER FLASHIN' IN AIRN IMAGE ALONE!
THAD IS MINE AIN!
HEE HAW, HEE HAW ELSE, AH SAY!
WI’IN THE SPECULAR SKYE-POW'R INCARNATED,
THE VERRA SUM AN’ COMMUNION O’ THE ETERNAL TENSIONS
IN BECOMIN’ DWELLIN’ AH HEARE AM!
THRO’ THE LOUD SING FRAE THE THUNDIR HYNNE!
BY HYE SKYE-VENGEANCE FORE’ER INCREASIN',
O'ER AN' O'ER TO YER SPIRIT HYNNE RETURNIN',
YERS HYNNE MINE!

When noo, Great Warlike Orrah!
Upon thae Verra Words, thro’ my Ain
By noo Thundir-Voice!
In an' unco Skye-Rumblin',
Wi'in Thad O'erhuman Blaze wi' hye force condensin'
Intae a NEW THUNDIR-FRAME Skye-Concrete
In aspects o' PURE BLUISH HEAT!
HUMAN ALTOGETHER NAE LONGER, IT! tone,
Ah distinctly hearin’,
When noo, Guid Sundrum's Orrah!

The Fyre-Bringer:

FÝRHEARD HEREWULF OND HEREWÆÐA

A Thoosan Black Banners, in Hye Glorious Lowes,
Orra issuin’,
An’ wnto yon Whyte Chasm the Salute wavin’,
Wi’ the Hue o’ Red-Hel IT imbuin’,
HE, Hynne Ah: the Freish an’ Auld Titan
Far awa, far awa! wi'in the Dreary Caucasus!
Frae ayont yon Suthron, hynne!
Ah kin clearly see!
Rebel hynne Creator, HE!
HE, Creator hynne Rebel!
The OVERMAN! comin’ o’er, still approachin’,
Intae noo deep the Skye-Dance Everlastin’
Thro’ HYS AIN hynne MINE
Skye-Thunderous Sound
Ah waes lookin’ for,
Dominatin’,
Frae Thae Simmetrical Verra Fyre-Mirrors!
Still glarin’
Ne’er e’er to yield, the Twa Skye-Surfaces!
Nor in human, tae human!
Unco Gory Misery, nor Skye-Foreign Blasphemy,
Nor Damnable an' Cowardly Affront
To e'er wane!
At length thro' the Hye Vigour Supreme
Frae the Overwill Alone!
Dearest o’ Mine! Inner Energy Abysmal:
Still Uknown, IT!
An’ in Skye-Reverge freed!
A Thoosan Black Banners, in Fyre, Ah say!
HE, hynne Ah issuin’,
When noo, Great Guid Orrah!
The Skye-Bluid o' the OVERMAN:
Theis! oan Thae Countless Mirk Banners floatin'
In Hye Honour o' the Zenith-Sunne!
Wi'in abysmal whyte runes waes noo graven,
Hye Selective an' Skye-Supreme proved!
Nae, nae IT, for all!
For nae everybody is worth withstandin'
The Return o' Pow'r's Noble, an' Flashin'
Supreme Force, an' Infinite Speed, an' Spiral Revolution!

CÁFNES ÞRÝÞBORD,

Tae the Skye-Limitless fore’er,
In the Form o’ Hye Steel Feudal
Skye-soarin’,
ITS Verra Great, Verra Guid,
Great Guid Auld Carham’s Orrah!
Burnan Wheill o’ Universal Core-Energy
Skye-Central, Skye-Abysmal, IT!
Alongside the Rational Force frae the Thundir-Impetus
Thad waes, is, an’ shall IT be the OVERMAN’S AIN!
In Hye Lowes increasin’,
Tae the Skye-Infinite, hynne!
Most Renewed, most Identical,
Intae the Verra Spiral most Empowered!
The Worthy ENS, unco hynne Joyful, IT!
Immortal owre feastin’,
For intae Thae Rapid Coils o' Glorious Fyre hynne,
Frae Thys MICHTY TARGE O' SKYE-ENERGY PERENNIAL!
Nae for all! Immortality is solemnly worth
Thro' Thad Increasingly Growin'
Feudal Skye-Rebirth Steel-Mirrorin'!
Wnto ragefully Bluish-Ablaze an' Core-Feudal
Noble Hye Perfection!
An' in Eternal Steel Unconditional, IT!
Dwellin',
The Human, tae Human!
Gory Chains o’ Promethean Slavery
Bluish wi’ the Verra Reverberation
Frae the Lightnin’ O’erhuman
Ah waes lookin’ for,
They suddely becam!
An’ at length, Great Warlike Orrah!
The Lonesome Blindin’ Frame o’ Gowd,
Wha’s Sole Hye Thundir-Naim

Overman Skye:

SCEAWERES IREN-EALWEALDA

IT orra waes! Frae the Twa Dazzlin' Mirrors
In Perfect Symmetry emanated wi’in
The RETURN O’ POW’R!
Burnan’ Vortex-Event Universal, IT!
In Slender Lines o’ Whyte Fyre,
The Verra Core Heat
Reachin’,
Intae Infinite Reflections o’ Primordial Pow’r
Frae the Twa Lookin' Glasses, Blindin' They!
O’er All, Great, Great IT!
Njörður's ain Battle Orrah!
Limitless Dominion, an’ the Feudal Rule
Steel-haudin’,
WHILEAS WAES AH! WAES AH!
GUID, VERRA GUID EILEAN DONAN'S
WAR-TARTAN ORRAH!
STYLLE CHAINED IN BLUISH GORE, MY AIN!
HYNNE THE OVERMAN'S AIN, TAE!
WNTO THE AULD AN' HYE! VERRA SKYE-HYE, IT!
THUNDIR-GLEAMIN' BLUID-ROCK O' SKYE-SACRIFYCE:
NAE LONGER! NAE ORRA SKYE-LONGER!
An’ ITS central Rays an’ the Verra Lowes
Intae Ane Flashin’ Ironclad *****
Polarizin’,
A Thoosan Tymes Greater, Mightier hynne:
The OVERMAN!
O’er an’ o’er unto me returnin’,
‘Yont the Reddenin’ Pillars o’ Immortal
Skye-Renown!
‘Yont Death, the Mirk Unknown!
An’ ITS Feud-Foreign Fear,
Whyle, lo! the Steel-Vibration gleamin’
Frae Máni's ain Verra Crescent,
Dusky-Red, IT!
Waes, waes, in yon Murky West
Still IT unco risin',
Unfathomable, an' Potent, an' Dreary,
Unto the Stane Circles’ Builders
Wounded frae Life, at Skara Brae,
Appearin’,
At right angles to the Chain-Mailed *****
Noo orra descedin’
To cross the Region o’ the Heart:
Let IT fall intae the Verra Abyss!
Yet the Sceadewe! Great Wotan's Orrah!

ÓÐENES HÁLIGE CRAWE,

IT stylle leisurely stood,
In Hys Mirk Bluid Bleedin’,
Crossed hynne by the Verra Thunderbolt!
Ah waes lookin’ for,
An’ Hys, frae Kyng Rædwald the Gift!
Mask o’ War IT, lo!
Wi’ Black Fyre bleedin’,
Upon the Cauld Soil, together wi’ Hys Cloak,
Waes IT thrown,
Hynne Hys Mirk Warlike Self unveilin’,
Still Mine Ain!
Nae Gory Fear! tae owre hide:

SCEAD UNDER HELME HEARD BIÞ,
MĪN FORESCÝWA RÉADAÞ.

The wind carries my cries,
the rain pours down my tears,
but still you hear,
yet you dont seem to see.
All the hurt,
All the pain,
But I guess it was my fault,
for holding it in,
saying its fine,
then letting it out,
through my arms.
Watching it bleed.
Letting it flow.
but I wasn't crazy,
I just wanted you to see,
that there was hurt n' pian,
just too much for me.
Now you sing my lulaby,
as I sleep cold still,
and there will be no blood.
The wind will carry no cry.
The rain will pour down no tears,
cause you sang my lulaby,
that only the dead could hear.

In the year 1332, at auld Dupplin Moor,
Wi' a shimmering Dagger of War,
Ah pierced the Looking Glass,
And amid so wild a Fire Mass,
Ironclad and devastating,
Mine awn Wraith cam.
Owre He beheld me!
His Claymore gleaming, unsheathed,
Into a darkness no one could see,
Ghaist, I winna yield to thee!
Across yon shield wa, quo' He,
In tyme of war ah threw myself,
Wi' gilded Targe and unforgiving Fury,
High flames falling athwart my iron wame,
While thoosan times boiling wapin fell
O'er that clan of skellums (Wundor Sceawian!)
Frae the white barbican, before the black well,
While thoosan times rising nae fellow-mortal
Amid thoosan deadly onslaughts
Ironclad frae the Fire;
But now man, to my warlike whisper do listen:
Ere the rust, in robes of Time,
Shall curse thy blade,
Airn fist ye maun ay wear,
To hold the Firestorm,
To avenge yon star shining still,
And auld Duntulm's stane,
Sae ah shall be strolling forth
In battle ahead of thee!
And when before Dirleton's Wa,
Wi' Colour of Hell reddening,
And next to auld South Ruin,
Yell warlike, enraged Wha Daur!
To thy enemies, and to thy consumed flesh
Doomed I say no longer
Within a forerunning Shade of Death;
And now advance! thy lane, and faithfu'
To thy auld Emblem of Steel,
Whar moorlan winds gaed,
Whar Immortality gleamingly dwells.

am fae a toon that's done so bad
they gave it twa D's

whar the future greets
o' barren streets
on starless nights
an' the same ald wind

a suppose
ah wi kin dae is sing

an' sing wi dae
but no in tune
for ev'ry uphill
there's anither twa doon

an' some *****
howlin' awa' at the moon

it's quite the place meh toon
am gona quit the place quite soon
as I finish writin' this doon

an' tak' a last wee look
at the failin' toon
that helped write this book

You can say that again, later, it is -time
lace up the daily bag and pass it
for all private interpretation
removal, from the rumen, to the next
- gaseous we, Huxley called us, 1957

No, this ain't show business, this
is living, made in a made up mind,
being finished doing, just
living.

Making up reasons to dispute liars.

Maybe not a good living, but it's free.
Or paid for, any way.
Bought with a price
my grands won't be forced to pay.
- divided attention makes
- ads obliviate into the mercantile
- classification, in attention econ 101
It's free - this living
in the way well fed children do,
in America, outside the cities;

Joy pursued and grabbed in happy
fistfuls that fill laughing memory bubbles
to store for when these become
the olden days.

No, this ain't show business,
its sacred duty,
work of a thing,
made from a boy who looks
into flies eyes, gazing up
from the bottom of the cup,
a little glazed, perhaps,

owing the fly an easy escape, look away

Tricae,
tricae
"perplexities, hindrances, toys, tricks,"

The collections of thoughts,
the access to held thoughts, knotted
messages
to you
private moments,
time alone, as a mortal human being,
humus built, auto-repairing thing being

being, eh?
One-like, only, or
on-like, only going on and on and on,

becoming fruitful
becoming useful
becoming less and less useful, but
becoming more and more curious
becoming full enough to become superfluous.

Lay preachers can create cushions
for lazy wishers wishing to be comforted,
but the weighing of the worth of comfort,

lay preachers seldom do, to my knowledge.

Terminus gnosis, all I know, my bubble of knowns;
this is it…
a thousand stacks of sensible lines, atop precepts,

strewn beside the trail.
Heavy
heuristic heretical how-to do as I dones,
published by faith in the thousands, litter
the little hills the psalmist asked,
why they writhed and twisted,
as in a dance of anger wishing,

clear channel, me and the truth, today,
just/instance, this/ now.

Free am I, by the faith in me, but you
already
knew that,

don't you?
Don't you know, there is a musing mind,
we wear to bed, some nights,
we lay on memory foam, some nights.

Thinking sorted thoughts, untying lying links,
links to educated guesses fed you as new reasons

to be ever vigilant, ever ready to defend the faith,
the laughing faith of a child, leaping
into the sky

- my grandson, I just learned,
- asked for more math.

No class common man, that is what I am,
on the cusp of next, looking back,
at the mess I left, like a cyclone,
randomly distributing seeds of kindness, specs
by which an idle word can activate troves
of ancient autoresponders, each guessing
what if, what if not,
what if, what if not,
what if, what
if
not now, when. Pop.
Bubbles of been, leave go, go on, think it

through, and passed through, into
the now
where we formed, letters, letting words wait,
sit still, ready
for the reader, ready
to steady the quivering fearful thing,
lost in thought,
stuck in stacks of holy orders, hearer only,
only ordainded doers do the trick,
intricate, folding to make not a paper swan,

too, easy. Make a protein. With no model,
just the idea in the word applied to science,
proper pose, super knowing, proto-life-ish thing,
that is digestible using an infantile nourishing node.

What tricks do you know?, the magi aske Moshe.
Snake from a staff.

From the crozier of goatherd, sure,
we can all do that. What else?
---
Allusions to ever knowing, knowing as old
as knowledge given girls at their flowering,
as old a mystery as any orphaned mother may tell
her great grand daughters,
nobody told me any thing,

but I took it as normal,

As the patient potency prefecting
effectual
fervent
prayer, dramatized, made big as all
art
any
bubbled artifice holding essences,

essential bits of the daily grind to gloss
the leading intellect's reason for being
so shiny,
Klimt golden, as that one kiss I recall,

yes, a facsimile, a memory evocation,

a kiss, golden in that moment, infected
with a feeling
dramatized to be offered to all who see,
intricacies,
khipu twists and loops and bundles and beads,

accounting for dues,
instructing kaballah, pass it on

Excuse me, are you in the right realm,
we feel pluralized,
but you don't fit,
we are uniform,
uninformed,

excathedra, listen up, all eight billion now living, are destined
for certain death,
it is a matter of time, dying once,
can happen anytime,

and if there is a second death, so far,
I never saw any body do it twice,
once truth makes what I am free,
we stay free,
amen,
reception accepted kaballah, et al,
take that greasy grace, feel it,
as the oil ran down Aaron's beard,

and there were no poor denied
starship rations,
until the comet hit and all
but a single mind
blew, into this
a complete fiction,
or another compleat guide to fishing

Imagine the magic of the sailor's accounting book,
envision the magic of levers, and pulleys and cogged
wheels feeling the weight

ping
2023 Gravity driven or gravity powered, is it
one
or the other, when it come be to inspire
first fears
to frame wisdom pools,
at depths we learn
to believe,
prove each participant,
worthy of keeping,
the secret.
Salt of the earth, deep down dehr dat
Caribbean Sea,
shore line fracture,
follow the riverwise road,
any thing you think you must bear,
don't blame,
sometimes it pays, to bend.
Grasshopper Locust practice, for the mind
of an ant.

Wisdom harnessed the fear of God,
put it down,
in other words,
when there was nothing
but E, mass and time being assent
esse, sentient, in sentient and ex
insentience, sapient over lay,
- honeycomb tripe pattern, say
- why not ruminate enclosed
- in a beauteous inner digestive
- recluse-exclusive-sub-science con
ified, tied ligously, fi,
to witty means, and ways we prove
gravity is our friend, driven power for all life,
strong as earth itself, but, we are

in the burning phase,
let me bring you down,
cause being accused, does that
to a stranger
being
entertained, or entertaining, on an aitia
let me
reason,

have you come for more, or do we have
too much
of too many things
to make too much
sense
of any particular reader/writer ifery algorithm,
if then,
else is this, current, slow, nodding, flux,
capacitance
loading axially,
if each mind thinks right once,
today, we have enough,
let's save the world.
- that easy, eh?
global restoration, Christ, yes,
that is the plan.
As the planet was.
Prior to Peleg's days.
Intended to have a single
dry land mass,
Wisdom pushed
for plates meeting
and using ice
at the top
of the world, as seen polaris up,
spinning
in a slow wobble
through four
seasonal positional hot-cool-cold-warm
gyre drivers, saline liquid epicycles, sisters
of the four winds
as a flywheel effect
in the telling times… a little imbalence leaning helps
with the wobble,
in the event,
slim to none,
the odds, but,
Don't Look Up. It could
reoccur, and shall, if
Nietzsche's epicycle

has wheels. Graham Hancock, on clocks…cosmic

Mindspacetime, the elite flight,
secretshitistic, it is, most certain, it is
fantasmic imagining
E not equal any thing, mere words
-jello-timingoooisht
between me and thee,
no point, not one, between the we
we become,
in the final analysis, if you wish,

might
you wish,
long, lazy river readers, re-mind
their lost selves, how innocense felt.

The worth of an unsold story, given
as a gift, as a poor artist might
attempt
a portrait
of their daughter's children

- "that little thing"
Done. As best he could, he believed,
at the time,
as it is
with
everything being as is when we arrive,
we adapt
or become the insane opposition,
to anything,
just
be the counter weight on the pendulum,

keep things swingin'

feel time slide
into the real deal,
at the crossroads
in the wayback seat,
sayin' honey, you ain't here
after what I'm here after,
y'gonna be there, after I'm gone, as  asong
that was
once a joke ended you gonnabe here
after I'm gone, but

seemsayin' eye
squint, see,
way back
when,
we were otherwise involved, affirming
sacred oathes, we swore as children learn
IT being life, whatever,
it don't mean
nothin'
is not a joke, it's ahint, to readers, ready
writing is key to reading,
vertical eyed
qwerty keying is learned,
phone wide,
natural, feels familiar
style adaptation
as cuneiform once was,
years of hearing the same words,
said and resaid, story after story stacked
in
time, measured by stargazers, called, by god,
eyes like eagles, these minds expand, and see
the order of the cosmos,
and the chaos of the collective sub-science

locked by a generational curse on oathes
under the God those kids had in mind,
September, 1954, first day of school,
all across the Wyatt Earp of Nations,
each child not religiously exempted,
stood, right
hand on heart and repeated, as a national
student body, K through 12, a pledge,
local time 9 a.m. nationwide,
not unlike
a true Tenant's pledge of fealty,
as recorded in
The Compleat English Copyholder:
Common and Statute LAW of
England, relating to Manors
and Lords of Manors Et c.
- buzz nod what instance… seven seconds
Sorry, Under God, was added to the pledge
that year, that affectionizes those exposed,
we meander under god, think it not strange.
It’s a legendary trait, we'll all be remembered a bit.
- default modemod is always beguiling temptation
- for temptation sake, win a game, get the rush.
of chasing hares
to where the conies hide,
feeble folk, but they live among big rocks,
reason enough,
use what you know is right,
hide from things that eat you,
that evolves
in nations
with no elders, constant defence mode
peace makers seem
feeble folk,
who knew,
and fell away, impossible to renew,

whoah, zeke play me that riddle,
'bout scrublands being humbly blissed
so long- wayback, anchoring the authority
17
that's me, I
fiddled around
and blew the clearwater revival
to kingdom come, Muddy Waters, aight
and there was hippies, ever whar, swanee,
so I do, I swan no no no no mo
lie like the devil for the sake of church heritage,
holy warrior sworn, heart torn, tears shed, tongues
spoken.
You know, when gravity is taken
in, your weight, sunk
into the reasoning
swung wide
in progress, no aim, past the cloud,
for crying out loud, this is louder than ever,
listen, no
silence
all that
noise, is natural
to persons genitivally, ok, cross
shadowed animus anima imitation,
in your cultural genes, cowgirl
seeing the world a yingyang thang,
with gravity and the E-magnetic shields
allowing systems to com-uni-cate locally,

scarey
indeed

too much,
the scope
of any thing one might think
or ask,
as in what was that rule
of LAW once?
I read
Compleat Fisherman's Guide U recall led
to , yes, The Compleat English Copyholder:
Common and Statute LAW of
England, relating to Manors
and Lords of Manors Et c.
is on Google books, masterfully typeset

Feel free to learn all you will, 'tis all in the Common.

as, by now is much that may have been, otherwise,
in needier times,
less riches, more sorrow,
less sorrows, more riches, peace.

Made that my after all battlefield task,
no mas win or lose.

My side, on the scalar models is gravity empowered,
heavyweight, ancient concept,
gradient slopes
with long lazy loops
on the downhill side,
listening
to kids make all the noise they wish,
two chalk walls away,
in the bubble we all breathe.

To this day, whatever it took, it worked.
Life gets as good as you can make up a mind

to accept, as
this is it,
this is my bit. My close up. To the exact point
where I breathed that bubblierised wedom-opinion

opinion opinion opinion okeh, settle years ago, okay
we all say okeh here, holy ground,
entire collection of recollection on that victory alone.

Okeh, is still the proto voice model, ok.

The following admission
honest to dogness haint no bunk
nobody, but yours truly
bore deeply and countersunk
his spontaneity satisfactorily
lightweight corporeal mein kampf,
didst more than baptise or dunk
cuff, which admirably aided to flunk,
(whereat no universal solvent,
could (kant) kelp dissolve barnacles
of sea sonned gunk),
asper thickly congealed

encasing this laughable
antithesis of hullo kit ting hue man
overweening tricky hunk,
which thought to attempt
skidding row bust humor
as a "FAKE" teetering drunk
ken-pro lit tarry overgrown punk
(riotously swinging balled fists
way of course), and mine
feeble insubstantial poetic jabs, where
teenage shadow boxer slunk
tis my harmless recourse to peddle

as sway to escape funk
seriously, Aesop hoes,
this personal mockery
wrote for no rhyme nor reason junk
bonded really gluten
free self deprecating
playfulness of course as chipper munk
makes any sense, neither kerplunk
emanating from atop me notch noggin
swishing with grade A klunk
emasculation par excellence, asper
out thee talking head of this lunk,

whose upcoming "talk therapy"
every other Monday
at 11:00 a.m. with preshrunk
kin shrink finds tarnished psyche resonating
analogous to reverberation while spelunk
king in an echo chamber futilely
questing, searching, rummaging...why I trunk
hated living when merely thirteen
courtesy Anorexia Nervosa
with spindle shank (chicken legs)
to attest as permanent stunted growth.

Eagerness readily overtakes me prior
to succumbing to nightly slumber.

Tis boot a blink when eyelids become relaxed
adrift abed invariably occurs counting backwards  
from one hundred – a simple sleep aid technique  
to usher deep and profound submersion
into subconscious state.  

Once transition from wakefulness to the virtual
realm of unconsciousness envelops thy corporeal
being (i.e. said sensate state
characterizes word wrangler),
thine immersion into deep sleep oft times elicits
a most alluring, charming, and entrancing female.

Lo and behold to ethereal winsome
mettlesome iron maiden,
who unequivocally, quickly, and markedly
infiltrates mine subconscious
dramatically contrasted against
unsinful, yet vengeful, wrathful wife,
especially fortified, justified, and legitimated
when husband in delicto flagrante
no matter figment of my imagination occupied
smattering rem cycles, a mere fraction of mine
existence, which true valued earthly lifespan
constitutes Inxs journeys lxiii round
el sol translated into utter disbelief.

Thus, some measure of consolation, fascination,
and insulation experienced by this white pawn,
(while he rides high in the saddle as some vaunted
feigned knight upon kingly steed) zealously
yearning for uber flight of fancy from nonexistent
angelic aura to lyft my spirits sans regular visitations.

Twas with utmost avidity, excitability, and incongruity,
that found this roam in poet to alight delightedly
gloriously relinquishing hold upon reality, whence
nightly occurrences plied quavering radiantly shining
teasingly undulating voiceless willow the wisp.

Thee lovely lass perched upon slipstream between
wakefulness and sleep.

She redolently shone as thee inimitable Lady in red,
and returned to mine nocturnal submission.

While awaiting sought after amorphous, fabulous,
incredulous nebulous essence (transient nymph
inhabiting thine unconscious state altered state,
what seemed thine entire existence), I reiterate
crafted ode and softly sing the following verse.

Chorus:

she danced with a feverish spring
and stepped as if in the air
no worries existed
for whose wellbeing she did care
with eyes of sparkling emeralds
with a shimmering flair
amber waves brought serenity
from her flowing glistening hair
attracting like a magnet
every person she that came near
spreading infectious contagion
of happiness everywhere.

tossed out the fashion boutique
on a cushion four square led
this lady in red
with her snug outfit
against her slim body did wed
pizzazz and personality that bred
this well healed nanny with high street cred
made sure charges
looked spiffy and well fed.

Chorus:
she danced with a feverish spring
and stepped as if in the air
no worries existed
for whose wellbeing she did care
with eyes of sparkling emeralds
with a shimmering flair
amber waves brought serenity
from her flowing glistening hair
attracting like a magnet
every person she that came near
spreading infectious contagion
of happiness everywhere.

atop shoulders bounced
a well coiffed and adorable head
drawing followers wherever she led
and listened to her ****, silky,
and sultry voice no matter she pled
to steer clear of amorous affair
where verboten fruit one must not tread
toward, cuz illicit shenanigans
hurtful to the one you did wed.

chorus:
she danced with a feverish spring
and stepped as if in the air
no worries existed
for whose wellbeing she did care
with eyes of sparkling emeralds
with a shimmering flair
amber waves brought serenity
from her flowing glistening hair
attracting like a magnet
every person she that came near
spreading infectious contagion
of happiness everywhere.

trainers?  who the ****
needs new trainers?
i want the sort of music
i can cry to...
          oh...
right...all alclohlics
don't cry genuine
tears...
   well..
hello gay-lord
paedohpile priest
child molly-molly
******! what?
i thought i was told
that crying
over classical
music
   was taboo?
sure, sure, like... me...
    'ere 'ere...
best of a 2 h
screen shot,
not having spet
watching
a washine machine cycle,
or what some people
call, "conspiracy theory"
by, moo'd'ern'
stand'oods...
   what?
oh right... ****...
**** without a samurai
sword agitation,
must be a white thing...
      is that even a...
a...
  an even...
a that...
        a a...
you want to play
this game?
                i keep forgetting
to play it...
but i undermine myself
with a reminder...
   there's genuine
interest
in donning this
****-fest
of the clash,
*** the beatles...
    mersey... come
the thames...
         like i said before...
you can't provide a stable environment
for island dwelling
people...
                 freaks!
     unless...
they are mutually
   exclusionary...
  "off"... their "fellow"...
invading barbarians...
    oh sure...
the native communities changed...
come the 1950s...
but with the european migrantion
from the late 00s...
of the expansion
of the european union?
don't worry...
most of the pollacks left...
you're just left
with the ******* ****
gangs...
no worries!
chill! chill!
what are you getting hot &
bothered about?!
  chill!
i'm no jew,
i'm not existentially..
globak pro...
fugitive...
     the english bird
high up 'n' arms...
protectionist...
while all you want to do...
is **** a
   sydney watson
or a delta goodrem...
bad ******* idea to send off
convicts...
   what?!
who's bewldered playing
a who's who?
do i look like a ******* stalemate
of an englishman?
i need 1980s pop songs!
what?
i'm a sensitive beast
with a lack
for a concern for a sense
of humour!
whar?!
   i don't like
humour,
that doesn't prompt
itself to continue
with a genesis of slap-stick!
you know what
fetish-**** is to me?
tina turner...
  mingling with
   sydney watson....
that's **** to me...
either that...
or... jerking off to
a bronzino...
or some 20th century
apocalyptic nostalgia
of...
  what would never
become
the tinder,
the fb,
       and...
       what i best serve
for the blank
stated waiting
game...

but i'm not even
english!!!!!!

when you're eased
out of a delusion,
finding yourself,
recluse,
with a relief,
bound to the ability,
to extract
an authentic tear.

Happy 83rd birthday to thy cremated mom

Harriet Harris fought tooth and nail
Mother succumbed
to terminal illness without fail
Ovarian/ Uterine Cancer to no avail
hosted by death feasted fancy
at Oyster Bay metastasized inducing this male
the sol son to grapple as psyche didst ail.
***********
Major organs compromized grim reaper and
carried corpse into dead zone as a keeper brand
donned as one Canarsie flashy dame grand
ball room dancer didst skittered in right hand
side o' me noggin, the idea flit ta left land
of gray matter thru me mined task didst ex panned

foregoing bidding on e-bay, ruminate how trite
online shenanagins, never asking nor knowing spite
most likely raged within yar being,
which lack of filial duty haint right
to be near where psyche flails quite
understandably, but no matter matthew scott

never did ask, how emotions most clear aflame
with anger writhing asper your terminal plight
vis a vis injustice to ****** desire with shroud of night
arising each morning to brilliant light

ye, thy lover of life becoming ashen gray
with recurring incomplete bucket list that may
already, a dozen plus years ago - neigh
aye methinks, so much deprived of grandchildren ply
their oars thru the time stream, how **** sigh
to partake whence thee drew final breath thy
avoid seeing thee stiffen with rigor mortis, why...

did unlucky dice throw of fate
rob and steal unattained goals ye strove with grate
fully before out bidden by dead souls, who hate
mortals to complete, thus truncate a lifelong mate
to papa, whom recouped severe loss, though his pate

undoubtedly flits with remembrance
of thee one he did highly rate
despite occasions, where spats hood did vitiate

this son feels he did not booster morale at all
with Huzzah, but stood mute in proximity
when ye didst call
in kitchen of century old stone
mansion built and hall

ways echo wing the absence sans pall
in droning sounds of silence, a squall
vacuumed a key per, a gal fairly tall
whose son now reflects how many a wall
he figuratively erected shuttered from y'all

that home razed, yet memory of complex edifice
still intact, averse to let eyes sweep, the home I miss
analogous to house at Pooh’s Corner
viz shared with a younger and older loving sis

both edging into their twilight zoned time on earth
re: the outer limits of expected longevity, yet stoking
the coals essence of each their respective hearth
324 Level Road Collegeville above recaptured
with recollections of merriment and mirth
oft occasions this sol heir withholding telling worth

thee ness, and must therefore purge such grief
considerably less than when pages
of me life seemed like a shuffled sheaf
or soon after yar demise, a sense of drowning
without recourse to being rescued,
nor near enough to grasp hold of any reef

that home stead, blessedly played important role
constituent key residence like quasar pole
sated light years removed from civilization, when goal
acquisition February 28th 1968 won land slide cole

essence tract of idyllic radiance upon open space
already slated tubby outfitted, transformed for race
sing urbanity asper mobile Americans at a pace
greater than mother nature shows amazing grace
as commercialization takes charge and doth efface,

the once bucolic, ecologic, and idyllic
forces this sentimental sir
to latch upon steady brace
bemoaning and tempted to take ace

hip of hemlock to forego discontent with bing hue
man, who cherished tender mother-son glue
and wondrous tribulation, 
I harbored enshrined and unwittingly flew
from pristine sanctuary secured
deeply in consciousness,

which access to retrieve circumstances
of myself as a boy still dwells in this man shun - clew
less nothing can recreate, nor reconstruct boyhood,
teenage and adult hood pangs
scare me wide-awake
whar frightful dreams serve as boo

stirring of dormant sentiment,
especially thee 13th day n 11th month
of each year
the aura, charisma, and persona, veer
dims sum milk of human kindness bequeathed tear
ring inner sanctum, where
this offspring doth miss his mum, he doth rare
lee shed light, only when faux pause (all faux)
aye scrawl a mini opus knowing you will

never be cognizant, extant, for me to grant mere
cathartic expunging in situ flowing emotions hear
able only to live kith and kin or
akin to Rapunzel unfurling tress buffeted hair

inside my being for love unspoken dare
ring father hood got taught true value, sans two beautiful
grand daughters ye would marvel
poignant traits, and disbelief that this bare
wren wove within DNA lasses who usher an air.

Rich in time, at the distant shore
of Stix, laughing with the ferry men
and pall bearers, all retired, the gig is up.

There never was a Santa Claus,
and there never was a hell… that is,
an everlasting grief for failure to know
what no authorities allowed known,
even grown to full stature,
the things we agree
1798 was for some reason, poetically
important
now 2022

I hear Cordelia. What? "nothing, my lord."

With graven mudpies,
patty-caking clay and straw, straw
another story creature, or
character, entity, yes, an ity-ness
some being, whether operator or
operand, all opera is
some minds presenting das gestalt,
nicht whar?
A we.
Heavy, cold molasses heavy, very
worthy, measured weight, shipped,
dripped,
sent, in hope, one day,
the effect of a message in a bottle,
occurs, as any reader
sees another knowing for a reason,
hidden
upto, perhaps a true 151st preposition
aiming at an upper limit,

How high can mind go after body,
augmented with nets of ordered signals,

is laid to rest, in my future, all the books
I never wrote, drip from my fingers, I am
the trained brained qwerty and morse guy.

Ghee of Auvergne. But for the e, I remembered,
though you may know now this is after
I paid effectual prayer through AI,
to ality of Rheality, all the knowledge in the tree,

in the nut, that falls to the ground and grows,
morpheus, makes it symbolic as hell
and the eucharist hoc es pokemonic -****!
you're a scannable canticle cannibals' cambial
allusion .
cambium (n.)
1670s in botany,
"layer of tissue between the wood and the bark,"
from Late Latin cambium "exchange,"
from Latin cambiare "change" (see change (v.)).

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=cambial>


Are we under your skin, slow think, we
is who
we are thinking. Let ter by letter stepping on

the compliants subsurface, softer than sand,
that cave - null arbor, tree of null-ity
annul - ah, "to make to nothing,"
that fine a dust,
a locale thought, linked, in a beautiful way
I may show you some day, these silken threads
that tie me to a wombed man,
in the land down under,
distant thunder, no sense of doom, this is happy
summer rain,
come to settle dust and fill all the puddles and ponds,
wells and cisterns,
gullies and wadis and broad sandy beaches,
visible from space,
any augmented eye may see, we live
on the wreck of a world.

One shell told Ben Franklin that, he said
that to many sons, many sons,
has Father Ben, the Humanist,

I insist, a hume-man ist, a human being
sapient, the action in the term sapience,
using that, knowing
I am thinking in terms any who read may define,
sift to the essential Eu-clade, literal
silence in time stop state, patient waiting if this
is why I live,
something I may have done, I did to dare the liar
smite me, many's the time,
cliché click heels snap

I salute my double mind minions, characters
set in array, as suits in a soap opera rich guy's
closet, close, close
always be
closing, set, the scene then changes and now
matters
- was Plato a big blue ox?
Why were poets banished? Truly, we are dealing
in common knowledge now, the sheet let down
from heaven, pick and choose,
you cannot or can not, wrestle with God,
and walk away,
without a limp.

Distillery stories, lotta sittin' around, drinkin'
spirits from former years,
we was young and in heat of the moment, tuned
to TV news, because we could know, what was
goin' on, after reality included knowledge
of fusion energy in seventh grade science,
right, when confusion was a word in spell-
ing bees, hmmm
ding
weedy insights, like first grass in fields burned
last fall, tender shoots for tiny kids and lambs
and calves and colts, and coyotes and squirrels
and cotton tails, and quails.

How rich are we?

what do you call a spider without a spiderweb?
    hardly a beef eating tarantula,
came the spider from his web
and scuttled along the pave- like
a missing shoe in a tsunami of
Oxford St. shoppers,
   alternatively (like) a crack-******* addict
i happened to observe, with
a lightbulb in a red phone box
with me standing in it eyeing him
before the hyena dealers buchered
his *** for copper?
    5am London is a twilight zone...
but hell, the tarantula lost
the ability to be arcitecturally
sound, dropped to the floor like
the ape off a tree with a pulsating
lilac mushroom...
     and that psychedelic enzyme
theory of the fungus is...
   wait for it... another way to sieve
through what has the San Francisco
stamp of approval for a Saturday
night in...
                   drinking beer and laughing
at your own jokes in a post-communist
****-show of a "democratised"
society... well... isn't,  exactly to everyone's
taste...
    'cos that: bang bang Nancy riding
horses made of sticks into Santa Fe...
     went by like: woosh!
           watcha know,  Texans not too
lady-bi titillating **** rhetoric...
            and in other news...
that chubby moon-key worth of
every subsequent Monday dropped
from a tree, with a tarantula kippah...
if the fungus took a free ride
so did the ****** spider,
    who... had the gift of prophesisng
its future as, cushty,
   conspired with the fungus...
    'hell, this monkey will someday
build lavish aquariums for us,
feed us... pet us...'
    hence the beef-eating venture...
and the missing spiderweb production
missing like footprints on a beach...
can't tell you that I don't see
             a similarity, but there's a vital
bit missing...
no, because you don't exactly sit
around drinking beer waiting for something
like this...
    it just drops out of nowhere
and your hands start moving out of their
own will, idle only a minute prior..
hardly a sort of conversation you might
have, drinking in a bar,
with someone, other than...
   at this point even your own shadow would
run away and hide in a shadow of a tree,
forge peek-ah-boo, ******'s way gone,
and yes, only second beer in...
    a blocked toilet that began with
a translation of English
    soap operas of 40 years...
   opery mydlane...
        mydło = soap...
     yes yes, sure, Finnegans Wake
   "is": translatable...
         a little bit of bilingualism doesn't
hurt...
       unless it comes from monolingual
bureaucrats who deem it a:
   split-eddie...
          heart on my heart,
I've sat with dangerous psychopaths
doing an arithmetic exam,
while learning a lesson in empathy
at a St. John's Cross course for
first aiders...
      one even laughed about bashing his
head against a wall,
and running naked with a sword
into the street...
      but we had a laugh:
    I started to think whar prison must be
like, esp. with the Imams...
            soap operas though...
elsewhere they're known as
    tele-novellas...
                        all in all...
this is just shy from my usual escapade...
into the zamarki / technicalities
of language,
    notably in translation,
but notably in words that never made
it into the rigid rubric of ideology...
only recently i wrote something and
stashed it into a draft compartment...
    niche intrest...
          if i could counter the cartesian
res cogitans with res vanus...
  surely I could counter Heidegger's
dasein with... daseit...
     a tiny diffrence...
  the poem remains abandoned like
a public grotto for grafitti,
waiting less for a nurse to heal it,
but for a squatter to move into
the abandoned space,
   and become like a tarantula
          trying to remember how it was
to weave, a titanium silk thread into
snowflake lace...
      if only to find the squatter
  to occupy
   the scribble I might dare to call poem
that possesses all the qualities
of an abandoned house...
     and like a doormouse:
not a peep-squeak out of me in
any fathomable elaboration of due
narrative,
    when the difference is based upon
alternating the meditation invested
in daseiN prior, and now... ha ha...
     daseiT...
                       i'm sure heidegger had
in mind 's (ist) within the da-sein compound,
     as much as isn't (ist nicht)...
       given there's the "talk" of time,
I subscribe to the being and form of time,
rather than to being and formlessness of nothing
(which, becomes non-being
   and the form of nothingness)...
    already a meditative language ensues,
much akin to my current
reading material...
       dropping ashes on the buddha:
   the teachings of Zen master seung sahn
by stephen mitchell  (grove / atlantic Inc.)...
  i'm sure I'll find a squatter
who will enter this abandoned house
of a "poem",
        and elaborate on,
any inconveniences,
     notably the missing conventionality
of: a poem is not a poem
without a rhyme...
         yeah yeah...
and those poems that aim to
be "songs"...
     seriously, Shakespeare?
     Robbie Burns, zee baßtard,
   has 'em singing ****** numb-skulled
silly, every Hogmanay and even
by the Thames, each year...
at precisely, circa, mid-night...
                 even if quoted a million
times, a millionth celt and 'glican will
know             a one more
                               d'moor...
                                      tip of tear
having exhaled a line from auld lang syne.

i think i have to places to visit...
based on the people i've met...
   friends of old are nothing compared
to the strangers i recently meet...

based on the fan-base of the Liverpool
football club:
i need to visit Liverpool...

why are the women, the girls, the women,
the girls... so much more beautiful:
wholesome up north...
compared with the stuck-up *******
of London?

they can come up to you...
kiss your cheeks... brush their cheeks against
your bearded cheeks...
i think i need to visit Liverpool...

and what is it with these Scoussers?!
even today this boy was playing a game with me...
tapping my left shoulder: i looked right...
he tapped my right shoulder: i looked left...

so i finally turned around...
he giggled... i giggled: long match...
isn't it? you're bored already?
it felt like a microcosm of my own childhood
where we used to play hide-and-seek...

i missed people: but i guess people also
missed me...
figuring out a bypass for a woman
with a broken leg to not have to sit in her designated
seat, but instead have a seat
in the disabled area...
went to the vendor of hotdogs...
grabbed a spare chair... blah blah...

if women weren't these scared does...
doe: plural does...
hugging... kissing... patting...
two Irish boys... one an Adam one...
older brother?
we were talking about the pharmaeutical
industry like it might be: the "industry"
of the undertakes...
we exchanged numbers...
we we supposed to drink till late because
i told them my birthday was today
yesterday...

            we finished the shift late...
my legs were killing me...
my back too...
     i'll send Adam a message of regrets
tomorrow...
next time you're in London...
or? i'll take your dialectic proof...
i won't visit Dublin...
i'll got all the way to Cork...

we both admired our admiration for Edinburgh...
i had to mediate the rude stewards...
******* ego-tripping on pseudo-authority...
it took three... before i was the fourth
and we took this
sick boy... to the toilet to freshen up...
i brought him extra water...
i suppose he managed to pull through...

people are great! as long as you can piece
together the ugliness in yourself
and present it with a veneer...
i'd love to work with children if i'm currently
working with adults behaving like children...

you play the game: i have no authority...
even though i'm technically supposed to be
a representing authority donning
a high-viz. vest...
   but i'm not an authority figure...
that's that game i play...
        i even tell them... but if it were
up to me... you could do whatever the hell
you want...

i need to visit Liverpool: find a wife...
or maybe Cork and too: find a wife...
    i can't be this much of myself by myself...
it would be so much fun to find a woman...
talk her into boredom:
talk her into death...
                  
but why the **** am i picking up numbers
from two Irish guys... to later go drinking?!
lovely guys... i even told them:
even though they wanted me to buy me a pint
and a steak & ale pie:
i wish... i wish i could be on your wavelength!
you know...

a sober person talking to a drunk person?
one of the brothers understood me...
one brother left the other to finish off his pint...
the one left said: well... he appreciates
football more than drinking...
me? i appreciate drinking more than football...
we giggled: because we shared the same sentiment...

i've been living so isolated for almost forever:
the impeding "predicament" of
the pandemic didn't really slow me down:
it just meant that people caught up to me...
or slowed down to my pace...
when people started to feeling longing...
isolated... i could be there: however i was all
there all along...
point being: the women didn't change...
the men changed...
now we can freely hug... we can shake hands...
we can talk...
brotherhood... ****** tension remained
however it always was to remain...
the same...

which is the sad part...
and... frankly? i'd rather a boy tease me... tapping me
on my shoulder... either side:
so i look the other way than a woman...
whatever a woman does...
with the number of prostitutes i've been with...
i'll visit one tomorrow... because it's my birthday
and i'm not about to feel special...

that's what's unbearable...
i'd chose feeling like a father everything time 100x
more times over
than feeling like Don Juan: a lover...
i'll drink this litre of ***** and think about
something fine...

i would chose being a father over being
the most successful lover: "almost": every... single time!
a ******* looks great in the mirror...
but?! a boy tapping your shoulder...
once to the left: you look right... huh?!
once to the right: you look left... huh?!

Hugh! stop it! you turn around and...
a bright sunshine of sunlight at sunset of a youth
is reigning over you...
no woman can equal: compensate that!
not with any amount of ***** ***!

because it comes across: so differently!
the masculine application of tenderness toward
a child: esp. a male child compared to
that toward a woman... a grown woman...

it's like chalk (die krupps - im schatten
der ringe) vs. cheese (SJÖBLOM -
brand new life);
i'm undecided... love for children or love for
women... ****** gratification
within the confines of women...
but absolutely no emotional impasse...
or with children: no ****** gratification
but not ****** impasse...

to be honest? i think children win me over...
i don't think i could be a polygamous *******:
the envy of a man among men...
even though tomorrow i think i'll
visit the brothel...

i need to visit Liverpool...
i think i need to visit western Ireland...
but...
    oh dear little ******.. if we're going to
be playing your game...
it needs to be HIDE & SEEK...
            i want to want to love women
more than i love children...
i don't think that's ever going to happen...
for the man's man... in me to be born:
children could never exist...

these ******* critters... these cute: additions
of the explanations of existence...
of the two song choices:
i always choose the sterner...
i do wish women were the answer:
they're most certainly "the truth":
but... between... truth, lie... question and answer?

what's most useful? the "truth" or the "answer"?
if woman is the truth... then who is the answer?
children!

       i love women: i love to **** them,
i love to pander them with flowers when they're
most unwilling...
but... if i were to chose between a child and a woman?
i'm tired of sexuality...
i'm more prone to parenthood...
   i'd be more hyped up being a father than some...
****...
  lover... ascribe...

i could cut off my phallus off...
turn it into a ******* oyster of a trans-gender
mentality...
i need: brains! i feed off brains!
let's play hide & seek... little fellah...
              
                it's a bit like witnessing a cat of Mein ****
sleeping peacefully in my bed...
i can have *** when i can "buy" it...
*** is *** is *** is not amusing...
             rigid muscular doctrines....
more *****! more *****!

at what point did it become apparent:
i'm more patriarch Abraham than....
Don Juan?!
          
      it's so refreshing when working with
children...
              it's so refreshing in that...
you could almost... solo project: Panzermensch them
into: doing "whar": but not feeling culprit!

because speaking any Deutsche is supposedly
**** spreschen... n'est ce pas?!

before marital savings bond matured
as a then quinquagenarian.

Courtesy gerontologists medical practitioners
allowing, enabling, and providing
the elderly population to live
longer and healthier lives.

Linkedin with longevity loosely translates
to resurgent libido spurring
older folks predilection
to participate in ****** intimacy.

The downside (if such be the proper word)
regarding senior citizens
becoming or remaining flush
with embodied physical attraction
Gerontophilia barely alive
as buzzfeeding colloquialism,
nevertheless advertently, intermittently,
and unwittingly received
jump/kick starting excitement

here at Highland Manor,
especially scooter bound population
looking to spice her/his life
courtesy young stud or hottie
(stepping out pages of some
**** glamourous magazine)
secretly strategizing how to entice
lure, and understand "grandma"
or "grandpa" as ideal bed fellow.

An old geezer like yours truly,
would roll out his Scottish welcome mat
(comprised of Harris tweed material)
readily and willingly
welcoming respite from
a young gal responsive
to such juvenile, ******,
material devoid of absolute zero
with neither, pride and prejudice
apropos of maturity,
sense and sensibility,
nor wit and wisdom
as the following banal folderol
nominal representative sample exemplifies
what he frequently posted
on the fledgling Internet
back during the heyday

of electronic chat rooms.
COMPAQ PRESARIO
desktop (little tower - revolutionary
computer back in 1999 -)
chugged along (think the engine that could
exhaustively repeating the mantra
"I think I can, I think I can"
in order to facilitate
wheels that go round n around
like a twirling clown
or a psychedelic school bus

while painted ponies go up and down...
optimally operating like well greased levers
to reverse a frown
analogous to gingerbread man
happy as a clam
satisfactorily baked to perfection
a colorful character uniformly imbrown
similar to persons of color
found within outer limits
along edge of night
of twilight zone in the heart of motown.

No harem meant by the following
excerpts amalgamated, doctored, hewn,
linkedin, and sanitized version from outdated
prefabricated plundered digital broadcasts
talentless dearth as profundity
and/or qualifying as reasonable rhyme,
I do forthrightly bewail
paucity of thought provoking perspective
dill liver rd by Clyde S Dale
whimsical wordy zesty email

nothing ventured equates
to no gain nor any cause to fail
searching far and wide
for something akin to a holy grail
in the guise of a femme fatale
wherever she may hale
even if my search
finds me ferreting out jail
masterfully baited ...ha...ha...hmm...
this steely irony male

merely Joe King riddler,
one lone ranger high
in his blazing saddle
exclaiming "Hi-yo Silver"
cuz tis a violation of pure innocence
to ****** Vestal ******
before age of consent,
and also ill eagle,
whar *** may n daze existence
locked behind iron rail

bars with razor wire
in n attempt to scale
the bulwarks n escape -
bush whacking a trail
only to return to bedlam
and discover vis-à-vis
a  perspicacious wife
who did bemoan and wail
yours truly his indiscretion.

Fingers property handsome beau
thrum while poetic feet quiver
like fingers on a taut bow
with anticipation to hear soft
sure footed white or black crow
sitting on telephone wire talons didst flow
and crackle with electricity

thru wired connection
courtesy smooth bore little arquebus
and spindleshanks characterized bozo
weird friendship can grow
like a super fresh field
viz organic olive garden
of eat'n plump with organic food
betwixt yar thatch n my lil ***
property of common Joe

fully cognizant and in the know
scheming to experience
whet dreams are made
analogous to tightly, lovingly, and
exquisitely fit together
game pieces manufactured by lego
finished product resembling mistletoe
illicit affair indubitably,
ineluctably, invariably causing woe.

After primal desire fired away
I returned home
to the missus without delay
the scorned wife mine hide she did flay
when divorce sought, she did nay say.