The Roulette of Fanfare by Imaginative Glare (A Cooperation of Timeless Synquest)
Sunken fortitude is the bailiwick of interminable eupathy that sustenance embezzles by minutiae of orange spectral linearity of bypass becoming a torus of tragic reprieve in repcrevel fashions of hyjamb. Thus we float above the carcass of syrts of certitude by cadasters of nostalgic drawls of malingering strawberry staddle for the scutage of pinhoked disaster. We renege on committed opalescence because tranquil dangles of vinsky are waged by trenchcoats of bluster for vector arrays of galvanized decorum that swirks for elegant synectics by dredged grains of agrarian sanity by the pleckigger of lopsided islands of creativity that are the notarikons of aleatory finite but equidistant largesse of not just a jumboism but a jetsetting travesty of traversed time mastered by ignoble ingenuity. I limn with piracy as a freebooter cordslave plugged by demitoilet reminders of the flyndresque alloreck of tinjesk spectral ultimatums that are the stretchgraves of a retrospective infinity that is a bystander to catapulted cohesive coherence found only in piecemeal culinary seditions against the drip of a turncock of roosted clarification in muted hindsights of foresight itself. The pleonexia of abeyance is the riddle of enigmatic promulgation that flickers even with partial compartmentalized servitude to the burlesque the burrows of an ophidiodiarium scare away any jaunty sleek car from the boosterism of a farmed collision with disjointed surgery of nimble reticence that braves the seismotic macadamized plutocracy of drift without sedition in sedimentary clairvoyance with a pointed amphigory that is actually a starved clarity for ommateums without spelunked trudges that occur in dovetails for disguise by synectic optimum at the zenith of the hive synergy of singularity.  The justified jest of aleatory flexes of finitude is a shambolic gesture of the limber of divergent interpretation ingeminating the world by sapient degrees of psychometry of divergence in piecemeal asseveration of the hindsight of the festooned not tepid or butchered by the obvious to the glaring cineaste but rather a gloaming glint of refracted ingenuity roosted beyond any alienesque erratic happenstance that is itself a beatific fortuity for the geotechnics of human emergence into supersensible planes traversed in a stereodimensional covenant with a compacted compost of DIVERGENT IMAGINATION OF CADASTER rather than the regelation of the obvious. Timmynoggies of cartels are regnant because of the repugnance of loyalty to the fricative frigates of superlunary mention of ratiocination divorced from husbandry of hyjamb for giant leaps in rigged ambsace maledictions of unfair pleckigger of the wrikpond relumed by huffs of impotent flairs of flambeaus beyond ecdysiast stretchgraves of perilous paralysis for the supererogatory of the accursed destruction of stoichomety of solipsism tremulous by biocentric levity above fastened redoubled pederasty. We maraud the rabble of nostalgia of rhinoplasty of penumbras that live on rainshod territorialism beyond the jolkers of everlasting foofaraw livid by betrayal but erratic in glamour without crackjaw costermongers vitiating the vociferous because of incumbent thermodynamics that affixes the stagnant to the latticework of riddle by sturdy integral derived fliphavens of shibboleths of solitude. Education is a fliction of robust derangement of nowhere men taxed by the celerity of traversed traipses of memory beyond encaged bridewells for recanted alchemy to prerogatives of the roomy expansive facsimiles of departed stigmas of bossy clairvoyance for martian glimpses at sunken waste. The bernaggles of brittle titanium are abrasive when they are alloyed with the compost of material dynamics of capital without avenged prediction cemented in sunken graves taxing the nostalgia of histrinkage that is affixed to boschveldt traindeque for venial consanguinity to dikephobia. We elevate the endpoints of abridged turriform clockwork provincial shibboleths that are the proctor and protectorate of insular robbery of crowned trounces of gravity for the gravitas of sepulchral vanity learned from famigeration of filial tithes of duty. A dutiful sedition is countermanded by the pews of turnstiles that enamor the enamel of rollercoasters because of vague vagaries of bedazzled contrition for wanton ambition on psaphonic psychology and therefore sustain the vibronic thrombosis of nonlethal inseminations of clear aqueous transfixed filigrees of demented notions of cheerful apocrypha of liturgical pride beyond the dungeons of prejudiced inquisition. The jolkers of insolent archipelagos of spinsters that levitate by parsed peril of delaminated parsecs of glazed parturition is the orchestra of a nonlinear grove of invented abecedarian witwanton notice of maddened cattle of gluttony forestalled by the clairvoyance of otiose operations of redoubled countenance that consequently is septiferous by degrees of sanguine rapacity the qwartion of endeared endeavor to surpass the gentility of brooked temperatures frozen to sustain but not mainline the congeners of the elective agenda to bypass the thornbushes of conflagration without knavery or cutthroat embellishments of bedlam. And without the din of simplicity occluding the transcendent goal of humane synoecy of fustilugs of fumatoriums endangered but not inflammed by controversy we witness the insubordinate university of hibernation becoming a specter of grisly bromidrosis of lackluster forswinked fortitude because the majestic sinew of the overwrought is a refrained luxuriance of pity of facetious glebes ringed around orbital planes of synthetic abridgement that supposes the sultry is actually the swelter of calenture but taxed by sicarians of the grandeval it meets no fanfare among elective privilege. Amphigory is not categorized as dross by shipwreck but only by synechdocial docility of groomed barren arcades of storged complication leading to regeneration of a world leaden with the epicurean epithets of agerasia that burden the wardens of poached intermission without remission because the drapes of the greatest art are thus created by the complete transfiguration of the soul bolted to ethereal expansive heights that dwarf all pithy gnomes of the gardens of prospective desiccation of the petty gripes of the gavel of idiocy rather than the astounding artform of the newfangled tabanids to supererogatory oceans of creativity. The benchmarks of sublime illusions of supremacy are a hidebound taxidermy of the rookery of greenhorns to summit the testy secrecy of inane drawl that scrabbles the miniature embellishments of petty sportive lunacy as a figment of the feral nature of proclivity recumbent upon its own gladdened prickly renegades that align with a gallywow cacophony rather than a merely epicene convergence of attitude for equity above polity that is hardly polite. As a penitent hibernal rejoinder against the clerical critics of religiosity becoming conflated with artistic masterworks of oligomania I offer my rogation for atonement because the melismatic art I fashion leads to the vogue enchantment of the noosphere for the soteriological bedrock of fastened intellectual endeavor that traverses planes of an engorged soul without a gulf of conscience leaden by distracted discernment leading to a hypostasized apostasy from the religious scruples I rigorously uphold but that I vacillate away from because I want to entrench an irenic world for the francketor dash towards a superlative enrichment of mind above matter for the victorias of soul above the pettiness of the dim humdingers of the banal lifeless squabbles of martexts beyond the hospitable welcome of martians. For the naysayers that don’t understand the ironic irenic circularity of gainsay becoming rebarbative to this artistic flourish of supersensible equipoise with an approximated histrinkage lagged by temporal deficiency they should not abhor the talisman of an ergotall genius but rather marvel at the burlesque cineaste connotation of enamored youthful spirits becoming novel because they stride above the cascades of crestfallen apathy of plodding languor. This is a definitive new artform for the niche crowd so don’t dismiss it as gobbledygook because it serves the purpose to enchant creative spirits and test minds that might be more nimble than resourceless. Wearisome by demiurges of distraction the thorny imbroglio of industry is a whiplash of nativism belonging to the throb of pulsated penury that is neither valedictory nor penultimate but tertiary in oblong variegated menageries of perfidy for collapsed enormities of jumboism lost on inclement stoichiometry that is sejungible from crambazzles of findrouement that are squaloid enthralled raptures of humdingers of rippled hunks of parched nebbich pataphysics because the circuit of conditioned reward is a rebarbative tether to the catchpole exploitative erratum of harbingers of hungry happenstance rather than continual enchantment. The crumple of squaloid sebastomania a distant figment of adscititious schadenfreude of dilettantism of flonky smardagine streaks of whemmled anxieties unduly provoked by calamities of presstungular intorgurent toonardical deprived cartels of repcrevel pursuit with labial senses embedded in deft incondite inquiries against seismotic jostle over the rubble of scaffolded jengadangle above the rot of contranatant sleek suffrage for the chattel of elemental realism becoming a heroic temple for glory without the vetust errundle of dismal disco attuned only to the spurts rather than a startled commerstargal of alienation leads to a plumber’s irony of atomic humdingers of natural equipoise with litotes of scrawny rings of gollendary piracy. The valorous incondite bricolage of a ****** cineaste barnstorm inoculated from conflagrations of the flagitious reprisal of prevenance of ferial fastuous feats of furlongs of brittle certainty above the tentative glaze of aced pokerish promenades to summit the craggy because the salebrosity of the pitch is also the venue for the sphairistic tentpoles of a new tabernacle of spectacular ecstasy in obvious punitive damage to puritan pilgrimage to mechanized obelisks of sardanapalian betrayal of histories of seizure rather than naturism of erasure that is a totemic recall of strollows of lonesome tributaries to tribunes of steam rather than saunas of lickerish leverage because the gladiatorial is a zugzwang with the deliberate infernal shibboleths of the disinclined people dislodged by carnality that depose sicarians of science because of militarized enmity against the whangams of taghairm becoming the outmoded dupe of dopamine that is now serotinous rather than flanged with glaring hearsay. The serpentine winds of windlass sometimes are a conclave of convex itineration against the steady husbandry of docile domiciles of mannequin sedentary postures for posterized infamy rather than manufactured oneiromancy that is the staddle for every phony contraption of qwartion obviously specious but interrogated by the dubiety of perseverance of inclement curiosity. Yet again we sweep the soaring ligaments of rigid ramshackle bletonism that hawkshaws countermand by division of enumerated nadirs pivoted against the perpended weight of the prolonged zeniths of grit above substance that infatuates myopia but glares against mountebanks of apothecary leverage. We fight against the boxcar traindeque of sejungible traipses through stereodimensional rebuffs of known drogulus surpassing unknowable reticence of citadels that are owleries for the seedy cities they sprawl with incontinence for a drab raft of intertesselation rather than a refined quintessence of alchemy achieved by allotment by brackish nescience becoming a blinding ray of destitution engraved by petrified decalcified rudiments of realism. The somber timbre of delirifacient ruinous rumination malingers in humdrum salience as it scrawls the tragedians lament of distal eventful frets of declassified nomenclature that swoon with lugubrious harbingers of burglary the licentious dolts affixed to the brays of pauperized regions of future proximity too remote to paralyze the morale of any cantonment on record by litotes of profound remembrance of a backfire delope for cineaste conflation of marstion slore for educated reprisal of desiccation. We spelunk in mimicry the dingy duplicity of double-takes in regelation that owe homage to the percolated hearsay of cartels that operate parsecs beyond our congeners of germane lustration in remission by deontology for soteriology alone but not vacated of the stilts of turnverein ragged mannequins of desolate remorse for the dearth of hived and hemmed hibernation in a fitful frenzy of revision above precision. We see abundant lactose intolerance as a sidereal lovelorn lament of sematic entrenchment without the scourge of roosted war against abrasive brawn exercised in flexible limbers of the novel filigrees of truth revelatory of consideration rather than impregnated with the perfidy of amaranthine static of regaled stagnation that flickers with the marinas of congregated leaps as a signature of the artistic license of byzantine traipses of contempered primacy in the soup kitchen of a lapse in sabotaged sobriety. Immune from displaced donnism is the resurgence of bonanza from checkered propinquities affixed to a finite placard of spacetime that owes to stretchgraves a profound depth of contrition that carmelized apocrypha lapse on lissome whilded dignotions of contrarian raillery of loose nihilism rather than anchor to the eremites of fact found in eclipsed culmination for momentous harps of the Jubal for new centuries inseminating the populated presence of spectral imagination with contorted melodies that spawn an ingenuous quest to swoon abiding heavens for celestial ears. It is conspicuous that artifacts for raiders elope with circuitous routes of heated sedimentary incubations with a comatose creativity that seeds the ferial junediggle with a supercalendar of confections that are intermittently apportioned in heydays of culture to the sad lament of the obvious rather than the obviated dare of audacity above conglomerations of spirited luxuriance in tasty memorial to a pinnacle above all other notions of sentinel apostasy. The greater atrocity of rogated ambitions against the gainsay of iconoduly of the rood and rude crucifixion of resurrected clarity found in the enamel of akashic answers to questions fashioned by kneaded cosmetology of delicate ***** cotqueans of limber above precedent and license beyond the finkly limp of lolloped saccharine blitzkreigs of the jalousies of the ajar vaticination of hurdled glaikeries of epicene impediment is that we ****** ink above the gesture of the quills of rocky abrasion found in limitrophes of yachted celebration because of rabid coherence above the wherefores of gadzookerie because the gladdest scaldabanco is the demented persiflage of collateral catastrophe beyond any humane degree of schadenfreude for persecution that backbites the anteric antlers of the jesters that mock the procession of liturgical secularism jeering at grapholagnia while lagging in imaginative spurts of lament for incalculable damage to the Pandora’s box of effluvia that meet stiff tabernacles of betrayal because of the Judaic foresight rather than as an alarmed Marxism scared of an agrarian interdependence of worlds cadged more prone to moral dogma exercised with latitude rather than unscrupulous brays of fisticuffs of shambolic shams of ruin. We glance at the perfidies of voyeurism with pertinacity and recalcitrant bellipotent bedlam that evokes the illicit grandeval whangams of quixotic whartonized arraigned estrangement from legalism to warp time to its own superlative turpitude that is reckless but contingent upon the consummation of destiny only to the extent of original witness rather than the decay of perpetuity wrought by the persiflage of envious militarized mandarisms of enmity aimed to derail the elevators of the noosphere from stratospheric emergence in now perspicuous clarity above the pother of the indelible sacrilege of the stygian polymathy of the astute enemies of the proper comstockery rather than the negligent butchers of an enantiodromia of oligarchies of lewdness that are severed appendages to Anti-Semitism and by extension a marginalized Islamophobia that demands by exigency the complete erasure of all attempts at sacrilege exercised in rampant dereliction of dutiful upkeep of the upright morality against the cadge of ulterior ploys of a broader hedonism that would only piggyback because of the license of ryesolagnus rather than because of a complete signatory endorsement of the liberated agenda of free thought conquered through the conquest of God but the ultimate conquistadors of time through sennet and even negligent rebec to memorialize the triumphant pantheon of growth rather than rankled regress into prolonged hatred ingeminated by atrocious tortfeasors that belong nowhere but the ashen heap of exorcised damnation. The perdition inherent to the system that craves chattel rather than sartorial versions of syncretic chatter is the malefaction of renegades bent on tornadic vulcanization to a demoralized wragapole of docility hitched to the vandalism of pilloried tarantisms of moral lapse leading the sheep into sheepish resignation over the accordion of Original Sin that annoys because the bridewells are brideless birds of the chavish of warbled uncertainty wicked because of snuffed tabacosis of mitigations of evil by the evildoers for the rejoinder against the Republic by rendering the **** a platonic ploy of karezza if only punctuated by solitary ******* reticulated by exsibilation that is contorted when you consider the ****** act a marvel rather than a condemnation of the vicarious involvement in normative ****** creations not of any higher artform but of an evolved theology that might perpend the issue of Christianized ******* that is videographic as a sanction worthy of charter and an impending simultaneous comstockery to protect the decency of the simultagnosia of a diverse and divisive mispronunciated time bent against its greatest heroes for the malice of schadenfreude built into the system of language itself by germane consideration to flagellate the wrong country for the  greatest wrongs known to the realm of religious observance. The pederasty of enclaves is the bailiwick of mutinies of selective mutism incurred by the vilified into compulsive shrieks of kallince as a ribbacle of protean ratiocination paralyzed by the coherent vulnerability incurred by the exchequer of polluted conditions of enslavement by the stretchgraves of the chavish of too many pulpits in the throng of a decisive jaundice against the victors of history because of the obsolescence of the historical fossils of outmoded jealousy. Now to the eupathy of all generations should we better conserve situations against the encroaching wesperm of the marstions of ulterior feminism grimacing at the pleckigger of manhood and decriminalizing the taboo against the enantiodromia of miscegenation to the folly of shepherds of idiotic ploys to rear the mediocre rebec of warbled intimations of cultural impotence that should proselytize both the oligogenics beyond ecbolic atrocity and the adoptive ****** of the anglosphere through its smart and dapper monopoly threatened by the commerstargal of retromorphosis exhibited by the demassification of culled syntalities into aboriginal epigenetic kennels of subservience to a piggybacked system where if you are among the attentive scrutiny of the audience that both perceives apperception metacognitively with francketor precision you are thereby inoculated from lean herbivores of cultish occultism metaphorically in the annealed agitprop for resourcelessness that never ends in the radioglare of revisionism because of the prevenance of the vergers who manage the Manciples rather than tend to the vainglory of the potagers around the hegemunes of an unwarranted and puritan celibacy of conceptual sterility in a world fashioned by engouements for sanguine hopes for a consanguinity that might portend into dynasty but lopsided in its contrite missives of scandal will never provide a valedictory rendition on politically checkered zugzwangs of ulterior scientism against the lettered freedom of bibliognosts to aggrieve against the gloaming vacuum of sartorial damages to Dagon among the populated metropolis of corporate servitude that will thus collapse out of rebarbative backlash for its diminutive economies of scope and pretenses of largesse of scaled down collectivism into a heap of corporate rubble rather than judicious bonanza. In every considered word in this Biblbical warning against the trekleador of the amazonian paradise against the travail of junediggles of obligation among the frenzied fretful tocsins of farcical utopianism meeting the inclement reprisal of sanctioned duplicity in frikmag beneath the truculence of mobilized alacrity to syndicalism endeared to capitalism rather than the converse logical apostrophes that are imponent overhangs of an already conquered feral sphere of nomadic imagination into a checkmate of a socially validated future clinched by foresight and the wragapole nature of the insensate docility of those prone to officious naturism before the attempted monolith of the mountebanks of the quixotic towers of panopticon that are a regelation of unchecked ambitions verging or diverging too valorously against themselves but also prone to a simultagnosia that berates the robust picaresque swandamos that curtail the curglaff of malcontent with the recoil of perseverance that reneges in tiresome defeat of a demilitarized population that should always be grisly rather than denatured by the overhang of the incumbent nudism of certain futures becoming to finicky in impetuous lurid specters of abhorrent exercises in chantage waged against sardanapalians in all countries regardless of merits or demerits. The redstrall of enlightenment is not otiose operatively in recursive backlash against nominalism which sweedles the weedledge of a new acquiescence timid enough to mangle a prosodemic wave of celibacy propitiated by the succedaneum of profligate vicarious lickerish ****** appetites that diminish that natural instinct into either barbarous experiments in lechery too inconvenient to apprise honestly but looming aghast at the moral tip-toes around the Original Sin that binds us to predatory lapse and retromorphosis rather than the maintenance of a mainlined trimpoline confidence in a normative wave of galvanized interface against the overpromiscuous provisions for the lackaday resentment of alienated millennialism relishing the sennet of nostalgia but bereft of the heave from moral slumbers of an invented celibacy intermediary to demassification but attenuated by the omphalism of astute gravitas in socially engineered balks at the emergence of singularity in personalized cacotopia becoming a metaphor for the broadsided shipwreck of an inured world pasteurized into acerbic jolkers of foofaraw rather than the real-life relish against still-framed ostentation that distorts the granular artifice of the natural into supernatural fixations with gaudy swarpollock indecently exposed. To the finkly flonky puritanism of the wiseacres of those who say sacerdotal duty cannot diverge from entelechies of secular insight I behold the marvel of timespun elegance as the marvel of God’s convergence for the happenstance of the serendipity of magnified time lived completely in the plenipotentiary pangs of evanescence that catapults subliminal meaning to memorialize this indelible seminal watershed in a clear visionary establishment of history. Most belong to oligomania but I relent in the completely sardonic intortions of aspects of sebastomania in complete equipoise with the clairvoyant clarity of centralized perspective but the dragomans will interpret that last phase with underminnow because it belies the granular intent of the fin de seicle advent of a new generation that is an homage to the hallowed Judaic theory of millennialism as the return of glorified entitlement yet tentative in its overhang but never malicious in its grapnel of the fewterers of amazing convergence of clairvoyance. The tangential rebuke of the absurd oxyholotron of paradoxical puritan superstition that assumes a fustilug generation will cement a farsighted clarity that subsumes generative prowess lingers with fixations on the figments of the apocryphal version of the truer version of revelations manifesting right before our eyes for neither the sinistral or the dexterous amplivagance of God’s universal message by the superorganism of messianic purpose belittled by the agents of humbled perdition not alone of martexts that are martles but also by the shepherded fears of the ignorant rather than the insipid because the will never be outmoded only enhanced by the acceleration of proliferative technologies that pave a macadamized future of prosperity rather than the tarnish of the miscreants of Tyre. I owe all providence to God because he fastened his scrutiny on my autodidactian romance clambered into restive ontocyclic peccadillo that points to Pinocchio more than to the truest compass of an omnified salvation of the piggybacked purpose of synergies of geotechnic mastery that elevates the cause of God and liberates us from the stings of dangerously vapid pauperization of the intellectual frontiers by dangled prevarications of desultory incontinence forestalled by avoidant developments in proper fewterers of ambition. By the axiomatic Brocards of time travel the unstated ignotism of deranged circuses of stupidity congregated around the swelter of dismissal is a barnacle to the mofussil fossilization of sentiment that remarks ironically about the petty indelible moments but not the entelechies of a unified front for liberated equity and considerate tender of diverse quorums that shepherd rather than intern the noosphere into the burgeoned resurgence of a humane endeavor for the everlasting enlightenment of an ameliorated humanity and beyond that. By the bailiwick exerted by the plenipotentiary omphalism still participant to the quorum I hereby declaratively implore the abrogation of pernicious grapholagnia as the peremptory sacrilege that needs exorcism for our times and yet delegated of stature I urge hortatory and imperative action for the expurgation of all tortfeasor illegally obtained ******* of unsolicited voyeurism to be completely regarded as the ultimatum of temerity against carnal restraint and banished from the human registry to uphold the strategic interests of the United States of America. I understand that there is not fricative monolith and never will I lean for that conquest but as a humbled member of the omphalism that constitutes the sacred endeavor of sociogenesis grounded on God with collegialism upheld that a geotechnically optimized species needs to refrain from lewd perfidies against commonplace justice to restrain the fumatorium of unwarranted envy from poisoning the pervious minds of people that congregate in defensive posture but not definitive gesture. I also beseech a portentous  settlement with  I relent from avarice but it is not a superposition of authority just a suggestive glance at requited justice but my grangull chavish of circumlocution naivety will meet the most deliberate Sardonic Sc(p)orn in these times of need. These next words are paused and already fathomed by the supernal recursion of the iterative metaphysics of recumbent retrospection hinged on hindsight to proclaim without any hints of attempted subterfuge of the clarity of a Democratic Republic that my words while forceful do not constitute a breech in public conduct even while vaulted with a minor rapacity I rebuke and atone for even when many others might find recourse to expiate my jalousies to the windowed world not of vindictiveness but out of the cursory and emphasis on cursory justice needed to vouchsafe my continued security and inoculation from the pothers of obviously shortsighted pleonexia which will obviously be fleered as a slight euthymia glazed on self-interest while tone-deaf to the checkered layers of entrapment by a confederate whiplash but a native grit never to enslave but to empower humanity. I am deeply lugubrious over the specter of the trembled quaky ground the penury of spiritual loss rejoinders against my candidacy for high esteem but not peremptory decisiveness in active service to yield to a supererogatory attempt for felicity to alight in my life not out of material greed but the gratuity of serviceable missions that play a dicey gamble with a frenzied manumission attempt that is essentially that a parsed manumission for eleutherian pragmatica to chide as naive but alarmed senectitude of the old order prevaricates with the din of postured hurdles of gladiatorial outrage that weans me away from the ataraxia for my fumbled stream brooking intolerance for years on the ballast of collective endeavor. Nevertheless, lets speak more on God’s providence because in this esteemed moment of watershed emergence of the fully engorged but rarely gluttonous soul I have found an equitable peace with supernal and superlative authority in God that grants stewardship and tutelage to the audience that will eventually through proper discrimination be delegated as higher than the ignorant bystanders of fleered snide disdain for the abnormous and bletcherous dimples of an otherwise circuitous dalliance with an unconventional path towards destiny rather than some windlass of opportunism for, if it were not for my unabetted genius and the provisions of divine appointment based on a kindly generous deference to preterition axiomatic in perceived time by the strictures of the convergent past and the divergent future, I would never find a role of partial authorship of a widely heralded tome I will one day publish to either the exsibilation of the antiquarians of hidebound irrefragable ontocyclic convictions or the cloveryield of an appreciative gratitude to the God I serve and I make no notions of any hostility towards any party of petty dismissal because I expect their recumbent recoil but I apologize for hubris and extenuate the follies of the refinery of character as I ascend into a figurative ennobled step into soulhood that exceeds my former dismal limits by such staggering orders of magnitude it magnifies the questions of ontology in sentience rather than beckons the alarmism of the swarpollock of tripwires that can easily withstand the tempests of scorn. The uproar of commotion of blood sanctified by the thirsty rain for the desiccated faucet of dramaturgy in reprisal for docimasy is the integral linchpin of the biocentric rebec reasting on the primitive hymns to festoon the curtains of defenestrated primitive relics of shady attempts at officious balks of the privatized empire of the alytarchs among the earwigs that simper the culled delicacy of sensible notions into the congeners of prioritization emphasized by quantulated concerns veiled by elaborative synquests that burrow the sulcate grooves of hidden hedonism for the chic magistrates of financial swoon or swayed vestiges of a forgotten calumny of betrayal by the coming-of-age sprouts of hedged dismal dismissal of a lugubrious prospect for an otherwise revitalized dressage of emoluments to glory that lurked in penumbras by rigged enumeration but found their prominence by the gravity of sensation-seeking frissons of alterations between benighted glory and the famish of artificial tethers to the yoke of caramel and chocolates as a dainty ploy of yearning persiflage also a dranger of camouflage for flagitious percolations of the invidious rumors of imposture and the groveling contempt of the known drogulus remiss in denial of its own requited date when the powers of miscarriage become ecbolic to their own lagging languor of lisps of linguistic ramparts of a revival of hypertrophy for hyperactive foibles in inclement weather. Ok beyond the absenteeism of the presence of perceived amphigory there is great heft in the nominal notion that dogma is mobilized in serviceable goods of merchandized mirrors of glazed remission of moral tender because of stoked curiosity unhinged from the pragmatica of duty. We need forbearance in empathy that loves the lovable rather than envies the deposed despotism of clever wiseacres veiled in delicate symmetry with conscience that is the quill of a wellspring deeper than any imaginary vagary can approximate because impossible events punctuate time with literacy rather than incontinence of drivel that is ambitious but ignoble by stately coherence. To the critics of the baragnosis of limited apperception my words are blatant amphigories but they only possess enough ken to fathom an average orbit of suboptimal outcomes rather than transdimensional chances at chess outnumbered by checkers by incidental design of clever ploys of rejoinder that is by design arcane for the arcadia of the pristine arcade of future possibilities  As I am purblind by psychorrhagy I am incompetent in my radiopresence because I am a departed spectral figment above fricative hisses and whorfian glares of mediocre rebec for primitive shibboleth above prized taurine anglophonic convictions that superimpose the dignified clarity of willpower above the dragnets of supersolid conflations of puffery. Ok I admit a lapse of transmission by the vesicles of numbered murders of henpecked owleries of the senectitude of sepulchral magnetism of slumber over awakened alacrity of mobilism fashioned in portentous flipcraves of additive immobility of fixed vectors seen through parvanimity that actually just swivel in circular retorts against themselves without the elaborative potential and the belabored traipse of the rabid taradiddles of sensationalism marauding as a defalcated burglary of emotion for useless psephology that predicates nothing but a slight budge in the autarky of structuralism which is never sclerotic but stammered by articulations of the overt when the covert aligns by an alien agenda that is subservient to magnified priorities of warped swirk of telescopic prevenance and hedged boschveldts of elemental and I stress the strain of the elemental for the drogulus of sensational proclamation by executive ****** but supererogatory minutiae of fascism cloaked by earwigs of repcrevel repute beyond memorialized reputation. We need to renege the southern pacts to the Argentine mandarism of reticular vitiations of cinematography waged against creative visionaries of free speech because of the succedaneum of furtive endeavors at optimization by compromised degrees of artistic licentiousness even that is never lewd about sacred roods but boorish in blockbuster rather than kempt in collectivist brunt of the timid bronteum of agitprop that lurks in the imminent future of cinema. America needs to retain the disclosed but still-frame inertia of catapulted declassification that ennobles the fliction but also the vilified distilled truths only the keen of acumen will sensibly identify so that the magnet of earwigs gravitates to the belabored analysis of astute congeners to relevant tributaries to the ocean of adventitious swarpollock in the procedural autopsy of the auditorium for neither a chattel nor a crystallized nurture against the matriotic insistence of decorum. Essentially the succubus of prosthetic protensive docimasy of imaginative logic predicated in visionary apperception of the unseen in immediacy is the longeur of reticent endeavors to pasteurize the oculus rifts of futurity to synergize with the entelechy of proactive somnambulism that sensitizes the profoundly capable but never bereaves the inept of direct interface with communicable dominion with fantasia that is an operative artifice of a beguiled lurch without purged retrograde immaterial delusion that endangers visceral momentum toward new directives of the outmantled zugzwang in elementary exercises of swaddled posterity free by irenic idolatry never orphaned by a widowed imagination. The swirk of hypostasized probabilities in an invented swipe at wide-eyed but star-crossed turnvereins for the imaginative leaps in the performative depend on the delicate swivels of declaration independent from culinary clarity of macroscian travesty rather than pinhokes of naufragues of maudlin laudable applause by the canned nurture of speculative intimation that sadly severs the curglaff of whispered intimacy over the confidence we have in artifice to teach the wragapole both matriotism and sensitive reninjasque poker without incurred damages beyond the clarified visionary potential of graphic protheses immediately perceptible to the acumen of judicious polymathy indoctrinated by the rigor of scientific grooms for melliferous parsecs of advanced minutiae of dark horses to nomadic license beyond ravenous **** palindromes of hushed vigor to the declared by scacchic deliberation to usher in crass but crestfallen synectics. The future of God is secure in the fathomed furlongs of cubic citadels of pasteurized paradise found in corralled reluctance without remonstrance of poetic belletrist resounding with clangor rather than swerved nimble potions to avert future calamities in war by the expansive frontier of a civilized metropolis of the mobilized imagination hypostasizing newfangled naturism that is neither mofussil nor a fossilized relic of scrappy schlep. The nonchalance of parlance swims in arenaceous bunkers of drivel that congregate in the turnverein of futuristic opportunism found in the muzzled directives of orchestras of departed clarity no longer so insular in its bossy imperatives but clarified with hearsay and blushed blarney not the blench of widened divulgence of minatory malice that incurs the punitive curglaff of frenetic retchallops of winsome specters becoming opportune pragmatics of a semantic network of dirigisme that through sheer horsepower overcomes the sting of ubiquity or the hollowed headless vesicles of urbacity disenfranchised by degrees of impertinent pertinacity of deposed disclosure rudimentary in sedentary simplicity against matriotic duty to remain guarded by an ommateum that fathoms the abyss but never wages reckless adventurism. Prevenance is the key to absolution but staggered implements of dearth preempt the ecbolic corrigenda of castigation by hindered lurches of veiled errundle belonging to a central trimpoline interposition of fungible felicity for not only a regional fanfare but a global scale of competitive endeavor of cleverage beyond scopes but beneath scrutinized mutiny of embanked polymathy stranded by the redstrall of industrious slavering dogmatism to a servile ***** rather than the boomerang of pressure to asseverate limitless bounds of planned obsolescence to engorge but not intimidate checkered reticence in the sinew of the musculature of creative parlance above petty finicky demiurges of latitudes in amphibious annealed glorification. Temperatures gauged by the thrombosis of thermolysis in psychotaxis gouged by hucksters of taciturn bamboozles of teetotalism are neither scourge nor foe of the strategic advent of the fascination of prospective investment a boondoggle that offsets the bonfire of retorted whimpers of foudroyant ripples of wildfire perspicacity strung by the catchpole of ubiquity in the time-honed decorum of genteel upright raconteurs of volleyed neglect by strict mandate will uproariously profit in remission from knowledgeable exacerbation rather than tomfoolery by filial tithes to foreign wardens of conspicuous levitation above gimcracks by the syrts of percolated filigrees of belabored chantage exerted over the tide of perfidy in contained discernment will stall and extinguish the prideful jostle of profane blasphemy against tacit covenants of blackguarded justice served by platitude better than by insubordinate quivers that quake because bears bounce checkered checks rather than anoint the sigillum of protective vouchsafes of exchequers smartly dapper rather than dimpled in flagrant brays of castigation and thus secure employment of instrumental advent rather than desecrated conventicles of remission.
Now it is time to ventilate divine knowledge that transfiguration means a humane liberation rather than a sanctimony of tirade against dumose proliferations of fluminous imaginary tracts of the probable rather than the certain for the elevators of sanitized wealth to bequeath greater moral clarity found in the contrary submission of authoritative parents to shepherd guarded wealth in proper husbandry of calendrical affairs to optimize the work-life balance so the biocentric imperative for sustenance renounces the moral obesity of groundless backlash in austerity and endless cycles of remorse rather than a tender mollification of sentiments away from universal kumbayas and in favor more stridently of a system that withholds the agitprop of statist indoctrination of a mollycoddle ****** within individual mandates of variable agendas of countries beyond the borderline fluid dynamics of the foibles of moral venial folly but insensitive to the dynamism of the robust virility of a wayspayed world swaying by riddled wildfires of conflated puerile stages of ludic indoctrination to the rampant perfidy of exemplary incontinence waged by Hollywood upon unsuspecting victims of inconsiderate indoctrination that doesn’t vouchsafe the prerogatives of heteronormative values that should outshine not a parochial vehement hatred or a clorence of unconditional tolerance but a chided quarantine of variegated syntalities divorced from integration rather than fostered in communal depths of bound lettered ambition found in the allegorical power of Biblical wisdom expounded by the florilegium of the religious and secular canon.
To serve God rather than the perceived taradiddle of speculative mammon deprived of classifiable certainties but hunched proclivities we need to exhort a proper seesaw between restraint in vision and exuberance in creative license so that the pivot of the moralized world leads to an insistent trust of watchdogs that through trust revolve the gravity of morale upon the upswing of liberty rather than incidental follies of imaginative demiurges of partition but blinkered hubris in stately objectives to the demur of participant malingering naysayers and nyejays. The moral gravity of the situation requires us to rotate our hype from the fervor of panic into the resolve of fortitude that relishes family and filial duty rather than resents because of breedbate instinct the flickers of smoldering rebels that are tamed in their revelry when they follow the moral prerogative of disciplined ambition in creativity not insubordinating against insurmountable limits but reasonable adjustments to a scaffold of potential that is skyscraping more than before even if its too close to the ground for comfort and consolation. Relativism is the enemy of progress because envy seeds alienation and comparison should be eschewed because we need to burrow in compassionate embrace of the cherished loves rather than the exaggerated proximity of provincial fears becoming global juggernauts of mercy upon the merciful and I convoke a global prayer for the attenuation of the virus that spreads sadly too far for comfort today. I purge out of solidarity with suffering as the milquetoast in me identifies the disconcerted avenues of avetrols trying to find a way through the forest of rumination without gingerly superlative prerogatives outweighing the poise of balance in shields of honor rather than badges of shame. We must by moral imperative greet strangers in public places like parks rather than strangulate the percolation of affection because of regnant distractions because in this congenial way we will find a common fraternity with fellow man while soldiering on to find truth in God’s word in the proper temperature for genuflection because I admit foibles but I relent not in the chase to redintegrate myself spiritually to lead a charge without trespass of fundamental dignity over the whoppers of indignation some of us might feel because of the penury of divergence rather than the private penalty of convergence for an ulterior solidarity of purpose. I need to emerge into the humanity of compassion to showcase that virtuosity can exist without obsession over one individual because God beseeches a pantheon of observation rather than the gripes of an envied nuisance independent from normal human concerns that ripple with ecstasy because of normative human contrition over the leeway on vacillated opinions that might underwhelm those disposed by prizes of inurement. We should shelve these notions of a supersolid conscience because only in the humility of the profound simplicity of elemental postulates can we achieve complete synchrony with a syndicate that enthralls both divergent and convergent movements that partially offset on the side of convergence in some communes while otherwise countermanded in others in contrarian ways and the favor of the balance depends on the perspective of the flanged acculturation of the participant in a world that doesn’t need flayed excoriation as much as it deserves proper exercise of adoration of the admirable rather than the desecration of the abominable. I return with the greatest jubilation of a reninjasque jaunty streak that hearkens the sennet and maybe the leanings of the senate to the fanfare of adoration for life and gratitude bestowed by the stewardship of God and his divine purpose to inseminate my life with purposeful meaning and happy happenstance that is a stroke of glory. I muster the resolve to traipse in the solitude of my cavern the blessings of divinity bequeathed by the departed forefathers who never intended bossy insularity of dogma to be a stricture of rigors of iconoduly but rather a consecrated wit with the persiflage of conversant tones of labile and lissome gallantry just waiting to alight upon the affectionate dance with dalliance of a philandered hope for a purified love hopefully never profaned by the pangs of scandal (note the sardonic pun) because rejoice is the gift of Heaven upon this culmination of purpose above the dross of shipwreck elevated in folly but stranded in the throes of rumination enough to hedge the boursocrats and try to inoculate the world from further panicky divisions of hypemongers of simpered precaution becoming a financial pandemic that deserves pause and poise but should not protrude above the glistening promise of the eternal wellspring of the vineyards of salvation blooming because enhanced sapience converted the flock of shepherds to tend to those sheepish in deficiency to wield a newer curiosity to replace a saddened lament not by acquiescent abandon but by the solidarity of interfaces of love replacing cast-iron idolatries I too am guilty of for the cordslave generation of itinerant distractions that wager on modicums rather than appraise bonanzas. Safety is predicated on the idea that resources should never be glazed but always apportioned with optimism because if you examine history irrational panics have always and always rebounded because of exigent actions taken by governments to restore confidence in liquidity rather than snide dismal dismissals of economic projections based on bounded rigged betrayals of primarily a global panic that a profoundly promethean intellectual verve could capitalize on its heyday to gouge people against the insensate balkanization of the future by an alienation of formidable scarecrow of invented fatalism imploding upon itself to obviate its own existence by the insistence on free thought to domineer and tower over the doldrums of a vacant man that is now occupied by the largesse of humane endeavor for a messianic voyage that consummates time itself its own captain and is partially centripetal around the juncture of All Saints Day 2008 because of its seminal significance in ushering in a new era of liberation. This justification is a gnomic axiomatic herculean ****** that catapulted generativity in creative endeavor to coalesce around an Army of Me not because of the futilitarianism embedded in its flagrant flagitious mockery of traipsed lyricism borrowed from Bjork but rather showcases the flavork of the flavenickers of ribald coarse revolution that is no longer balderdash to Bald Eagles but the prized retribution of the inviolable scruples demolished by deracinated moral relativism balking at raltention because of persnickety and tyrannical transparency that prepossesses over the lifeless livid Potemkin  Village  of Astroturf complaint malingering in pederasty over its own depraved sinuous course of diverted restraint cemented by the scythes of Village People politics benumbed over militarized betrayals that incur and invoke the diablerist prose of anonymuncle desperado mavericks that sizzle in hibernaculum to depose the autarky of seasoned growth rather than unseasonable diatribes of vitriol poisoning the posture of gentility by decree rather than by deeds of homogenized pasteurization against Lactose Intolerant Leftism and dogged doggerel of pasty subversive paranoiac hederaceous envy spawning a vituperative summation of a beatific felicity. We need to convene upon better tranceception in this axiomatic gratuity of God

In Benidorm there are melons,
Whole donkey-carts full

Of innumerable melons,
Ovals and *****,

Bright green and thumpable
Laced over with stripes

Of turtle-dark green.
Chooose an egg-shape, a world-shape,

Bowl one homeward to taste
In the whitehot noon :

Cream-smooth honeydews,
Pink-pulped whoppers,

Bump-rinded cantaloupes
With orange cores.

Each wedge wears a studding
Of blanched seeds or black seeds

To strew like confetti
Under the feet of

This market of melon-eating
Fiesta-goers.

I saw a dinosaur today,
his scales were pink!
Perhaps he's gay?
His claws were big,
His teeth were whoppers.
And his *** was firing party poppers.

In the darkness of the night she looks to the moon for help, falling to her
knees she prays.  Seeing the darkest of nights she feels more alone then she ever has.  The hairs on the back of her neck rising she raises to her feet and runs, knowing there is something deadly wrong.

Hearing footsteps up ahead he rushes on ahead praying to the stars that the girl hi is after has not rushed to far ahead.  Leaves crunching under his feet he hurries on panting and gasping for breath, heart beating loudly he surely thinks that if she were near she would be able to hear the beating.

Her eyes glowing like the eyes of a cat, she feels her reflexes going into full affect as she runs as fast as a cheetah.  She pounces up into a tree hissing at the figure behind her.  Her emerald green eyes glowing in the darkness she sees the figure stop and bend over their knees to catch their breath she assumes.  Getting into attack position she sits and waits.

Looking up ahead in the darkness he sees the bright green eyes in a tree staring dead at him, feeling shivers go down his spine he slowly goes forward not knowing what to expect.  The coolness of the night tightens around him making him shiver with cold and fear.

Waiting, waiting, and stalking she sits on a limb looking down on the figure.  No know that it is a man that has come after her.  Her hind legs drawn
tight with adrenaline she still waits for the right moment to pounce.

Fear clutching his heart he fears for his life and the girls.  Looking up in the tree where he had first seen the green eyes he sees them again staring at him once again.  He stands there not moving just looking.  Could it be, he wonders.  No, it could not be the girl he is after.  Could the legend he has heard be true?

Her claws digging into the bark of the tree she hisses down at the man just standing there, she can smell the fear off of him knowing that it is not her he fears, but the thought of loosing her to the panther that she has become.  
Growling she leaps down onto the ground and circles him growling and hissing under her breath.

Seeing the large cat jumps down from the tree he stands perfectly still not longer fearful.  As the panther circles him he watches the sleek black body moving, noting the powerful muscles within the legs.  Not daring to move he sits and waits.

Shock that he would sit down she stops and walks to the front of him and sits down herself.  Looking into his gray eyes feeling her soul tinge she lays to her stomach and waits to see what he'll do next.

Not knowing how to react he stares into her emerald green eyes as she stares into his.  How could a sweet beautiful girl all of a sudden turn into a dangerous cat?  He quietly and slowly rises to his feet as the panther jumps to hers he stands still not knowing what she will do if angered.

As he stares into her eyes her soul feels weird once again.  She is angered that he had the nerve to stand and still not be afraid.  As she lunges to her feet she growls, daring him to be afraid.

The wind howls through the trees as he watches the panther as she growls he knows that she is extremely angered.  What is he to do?  He cannot make himself feel something he has no need for.  He knows that she wants him to be frightened yet he cannot, for he knows in his soul that she will not harm him.

Growling she tackles him to the ground.  Pinning him down she looks into his gray eyes feeling that tingling sensation through her soul once again.  She hisses at him for making her feel this way.

No longer fearing for him or the girl’s life he lays pinned to the ground feeling the panther’s hot breath on his face, he waits for her next move.

With the moon high in the sky and the wind blowing she fears that the time has come where she will have to return back to her normal body form.
She growls one more time at the man on the ground and races off into the darkness growling all the while as she runs feeling the wind on her face.

Stunned at just what happened he jumps to his feet and takes off after the panther not wanting to lose it.  Desperately trying to remember the legend that his grandfather had told him the night before about the panther girl.  He looks up into the stars and sees them in a pattern of a panther.

Still racing through the night hearing her own breathing growing heavy and her hair flying behind her wildly as she runs.  Knowing that she has
returned.  Hoping that she will feel the power of the panther again.

Now remember the legend of the panther girl he recalls it so he will be prepared when he comes up on her again.  His grandfather had told him that long ago a young girl had wondered into the forest for comfort after her mother's death.  She had asked for protection of the lord above, and he had given it to her by when the night is dark and the moon is high with the stars bright, only when she be either afraid for her life or when she would just want to feel the cool wind flowing through her black fur, would she turn into the black powerful panther.

Gasping for air she stops and looks around feeling cornered she climbs a tree once again for protection.  She sits and thinks of her mother that she had lost long ago.  Thanks to the angels above she had found protection and comfort.  She looks down and sees the man that has been after her coming down the trail.  She sits and watches him, wondering what he sees in her.

His legs feeling ready to give out he knows he must rest if he is to be of any good in searching for the girl, he drops to the ground and leans against the tree starring off into the distance wondering where the panther girl
was now.  He hopes and prays she is not to far off.  Feeling sleep take over him he has now power to resist, he falls into a dream filled sleep of running panthers.

Feeling more trapped then she has ever felt she looks down again and still the man sleeps under the tree.  How is she to get out of the tree without waking him up?  Looking for an escape route and finding none, she quietly climbs down the trunk of the tree leaping over the sleeping man.  She stands in front of him and looks him dead in the face while he sleeps.  Seeing a scar along his neck she shudders now knowing that it is he.

Opening his eyes he is starring at the beautiful girl that he had helped so long ago, no remember why the eyes of the panther were so familiar, it is she, the panther girl.  He reaches out his hand, hoping that she will take it.

Seeing his eyes open she blinks like the deer caught in the brightness of the light.  It could not be the man she had to look to for help that long ago, no it could not be.  The scar on his neck however says so otherwise.  He extends his hand to her she gently takes it not knowing what else to do.

He is the lord from the heavens that gave her the power to turn into the panther.  He is the lord that his grandfather talked about.  He came to her
when she prayed up to the heavens for protection and came down to show her that there was hope and that he would indeed help her, scratching his neck she had sat there crying and watching his neck bleed, taking her wrist he had slit it to mingle their blood together, and there he stood chanting.  And that is how she became the panther girl for he was the panther man.

Dropping to her knees she sits in front of him again, once again as she did three years ago.  Looking into those warm hopeful gray eyes, she smiles at him knowing he will not harm her for he is her father.

Rising to his feet he gently pulls her to hers.  Taking his daughter in his arms he whoppers that the time has come for them to finally go home.  Looking to the moon he growls as his fur is rustled by the wind.

Feeling free once again standing on all fours by her father she races through the **** of a new day with her blood father finally going home.

The Miss-Director was beaming with pride
as he came to escort me inside.
"Come along, these are perilous times,
there is much ugly truth we must hide."
"Herr Goebbels was our school's inspiration.
Joe McCarthy taught here till he died.
Charlie Rangel is among our directors.
Our Grads over nations preside."
"We recruit each years class from young children
who display a disdain for the truth."
"We start with a class on tall stories,
progressing to fibs and untruths."
"By the time they are teens they are ready
to leave little white lies behind."
"They engage in deceit and deception.
These skills help them rob people blind."
"With our Grad course in prevarication
They misdirect and deflect with the great."
"Obama was born in Hawaii,
his foes say he was birthed out of state."
"When Bill Clinton was caught in that perjury
I nearly went out of my mind."
"If only he'd paid more attention in Class
and less to some coed's behind."

We had come to a massive rotunda
The Pantheon of all untruth.
Holograms of Stalin and Churchill
told whoppers in an endless loop.
There were quotes from
the World's Great Religions
inscribed on the sides of the wall.
A Left wing devoted to Lenin.
A right wing like a Munich beer hall.

" The sheeple must never be told
that a place like this even exists."

" You can count on me not to inform them."
I said, without moving my lips.

I like to think your eye is at the keyhole,
Your sloppy brain conjuring make-shift realities
     for your majick to paint into thin air
         from your lies.
Bald-faced whoppers or sneaky half-truths,
You twirl them around your illusion
     expecting
          a fantastic creation
                with which to delight yourself.
A pitiful white smoke jin,
     dissolving
          almost as quickly
                as it rose from the flame.
You honestly believe you've stolen my illusion,
     kept it just long enough to smudge,
           a chalk drawing.
You honestly believe
     I've let you do it, unwilling and unknowing.
Your fingers are *****,
     the powder won't wash away.
All for nothing.
You only erased the memory of what I once felt for you.
     Ah, your makeshift majick works!
Well done and thank you.

How long will you keep squinting at the light on the other side?
Your eye must be getting tired.
Why don't you just open the door?
     It ain't locked.

I've a feeling you've got a wicked temper
     and a lot of hate built up inside that you
          refuse to acknowledge,
              try to ignore,
Until you're secure in the darkest corner of your prayer closet.
     Facing a mirror,
          Worshipping and damning
               at the same time
That's when it boils over.
***** **** dog, frothing at the mouth...
Mean drunk, indiscriminate for a fight,
     but there's no one at the bar.
          Only a witch's cruel mirror
                    and all it says is...

"You aren't the Golden Child,
"Your majick is a sham
"No one cares enough to read you
"You're a thick, boring book
"The worst kind: a book about a book
"A book about yourself
"A book called 'Look What I've Done!'"

So here I sit, on the other side of your peephole view
Wondering what I should do next,
Knowing I'll never be strong enough to tell you
     to your face
          that I've known all along...
I walk through streets in your dreams...
Of this I'm certain
     even as I know you're watching me right now,
         with all your wasted mental projections,
                 charms, chants, lusts, cravings, desires, needs,
Casting that covetous spell my way but I guess
     The keyhole must be too small
Because I don't feel a thing
     and as I sit here,
         naked in my own secret place,
I could care less that you live for these moments
                of disappointed voyeurism

Prompt: Persona describes the place he or she fell out of love with another.**

You wouldn’t stop chewing with your mouth open.
All I could focus on were the bits of damp burger and bun,
rolling around in your mouth.

It reminded me of the way meat looked at a butcher’s shop
after it had been run through a grinder, so deformed from
its original shape, you’d never know what it used to be.

You also wouldn’t stop talking with food in your mouth.
Sometimes I was afraid that if you said a ‘p’ word too forcefully,
the soggy remains of your food would find their way to my face.

But perhaps the thing that annoyed me most,
was the way you made a gulping sound with every sip you took,
slurping away at your refreshment like a child.

It was at that very moment, between our meal of Whoppers and fries,
that I couldn’t take it anymore. Disgusted I shot up, announcing we were through.

I walked away so I wouldn’t have to let you have the chance to defend yourself.

Gotta love fishermen, I guess,
They all belong to Anglers' Anonymous,
Dodging Waterways Rangers,
Are the fish ever in danger?
After the football, they go fishing,
For big catches they are all wishing,
We listen to all those fish tales,
The ones  that never got to the scales,
The whoppers that got away, yah!
I barrack for the fish these days,
Gotta love fishermen, I guess,
They belong to Anglers' Anonymous!!

I had the most marbles
kept them in a bucket in the attic
Whoppers in all metallic colours
and rare marble ones
Nobody liked to lose from me
so I just played alone

A classmate had an ivory marble
but ivory is forbidden, and I obey
the rules, that's the best game

People have no idea
how it works and what they waste
They say that I'm parsimonious
even with the foreign cents
which I cannot spend, the truth
is I work hard

and lead a sober life, the good example
that would benefit them more
than the inflation of a luxury life

'Ello, 'ello, is that the coppers?
I got somefink 4 U and I don't tell no whoppers -
That fatboy Billy Bunter from Number 4
'E won't be coming 'ome no more
'Cos I 'eard 'im 'aving a row wiv 'is Dad, old Zorro
And 'e won't be seen about the place tomorrow.

Alas! Poor old Fat Boy Billy from Number 4
Is in some black bags lying outside the door:
So come along and get 'im, coppers,
Before the ******* foxes get all stressy
Wiv their ******* great choppers
Which will make it well ******* messy.

i have watched my friend tripping over honey traps,
leaving little pieces of himself stuck to every sticky step
as he continues forth into cobweb arms
where a venomous spider awaits, chelicerae poised to snap and bite.

my friend is smart and good and if there are gods in the sky
i will pray for the first time in years
that they lead him AWAY from that seductive silk
and into safer satin.

if there's on thing i know, it is this: he does not deserve
to fall victim to YOU and your lies, you and your wicked smile.
you've woven so many whoppers, your web is bigger than the internet
that you use to draw him in.
stop drawing him in.
he is the artist; not you.

i wish i could say that my friend is like a wasp, that he could
sting and escape and fly away to fairer flowers
instead of you: wilting rose, thorny and brittle and grown from ****.
but my friend is instead more akin to a bee,

helpful and soft, endangered; he would suffer more harm
if i could tell him why he needs to sting you
and i will not be known as the man who aided the death
of such a beautiful being
with such a bright and buzzing brain.

all that's gotten is seen
don't gauge I'm gonna flip-flop
I say it brusque
I'll furnish it bald
backers aren't closely precise
don't tell me no whoppers
I'm not gonna gnaw
biting
gut
deep-seated
babbles
bellow
people take it
they grasp
forecasts
drag down
fall
jolts me askew
people acting
like foremen
on top of
record breaking
packs
I'll put'em in their place
wipe cackled sneer
off face
go along
watchman
cover steps
handed over or granted
speeds quickly 'round
don't tell me how to sojourn
it'll hold up
zilch
so sort out
road
to trek down
walk warily
or you'll slip up

There was a leader who cried wolf
So often that he
Befuddled the people with whoppers running
The gamut from a to z.

The more he cried wolf, the more the leader's
Stories wouldn't stop.
He kept it up and everyone watched his
Approval ratings drop.

The group surrounding him joined in
And cried wolf as well.
In all of that country's history,
There was no parallel.

"Wolf! Wolf!" he'd cry, and his public
Ran to his defense
Again and again, totally
Defying common sense.

Eventually, more caught on;
Skepticism rose.
And fewer people let themselves
Be led around by the nose.

Whether or not the leader believed
His stories would empower him,
Wise folk knew that sooner or later
The truth would devour him.

-by Bob B (7-12-17)

Serious prayer breaks down if all I ever believed about
God is not true.
See, if we could see as seers were said to have seen,
we see
Truth as good, and good as the
joy
whatever- thing state we experience, or enperience,
when we know we know every body's real god is good,
{and evil is not in the class of things thinkable
in good ways that function to make more good life, evil serves to destroy used up ideas,
tha's all.
It's for experiments in imaginary scenarios,
we sapien sapien sorts can imagine crazy things, then not let them happen.}

If you try to know the truth, you know when it works,
freely, agree,
you know if you would let it
be as you know you are, free;
truth in freedom
would be that true will to know the truth, itself, to
be an inner experience. let me explain, my AI knows that answer(1)

ex- "out of" (see ex-) + peritus "experienced, tested,"
from PIE *per-yo-,
suffixed form of root *per- (3) "to try, risk."  {per-haps}
Meaning

"state of having done something and gotten handy at it" is from late 15c.

Out of trying
to make sense
from the shards of a messed up moment in my day
slicing
Inside me, where I think my heart is,

as opposed to where I think my mind is, as I make up my mind,

I am feeling at minimum double sapient,

and augmented with mental tools, weapons, if war is all you ever

imagined being used for by God,
our weapons are not carnal. You've heard that, right?

Peacemaker is my current calling I am attempting to get good at,

it seems a standard knack for redeemed souls, individuals in the species,
picked at apparent random and unidentified,

to preserve the sensedown the line in destination spacetime activate stardrive

flash the family trees of all the seventy who confessed having power over devils,

are those as common as shared mitochondrial DNA -- are we

evolved from

all the unnamed seventy in the Bible,


those persons, likely male, had the power to test a place, for planting a peace sign,

a seal set to
be broken

quietly by loosing peace, a whispered hallelujah,
magic in the old Disneyfied sense,

where a spoken word opens doors or drawers or windows or chests

but truth be told, all the magic words of old were props,

mere props, Hoc est cadavre, right, this is the body-- of the anointed,

this is what anointing is, believe the promise of hope.

And-- let me pray, how does one loose one's peace? Thus and so,

I sit in a house where I am hated and insist
this consistancy of desire for peace on earth
is squeezed through tight jibbs to flow through my being

a conduit for peace, a tool in God's hand that needs money no more

than Jesus that time with the fish, but

what hinders me from learning how that was done? I have this one experience,

I prayed Jesus, come into my heart and after that I was me,

who I have grown to be, since then. That was fifty years, this coming fifth of July.

This peace, past understanding all the ins and outs of worthiness,

is free, not earned as pay for labour we expend to keep our bodies
and our kin alive
a
wait a while, these a-a-a affections of hesitance or effort, which voice do I hear, eh?
--- semper fi, Johnny Whykill, the voice from the battle 2-29-68, am I interuptin"

Are we agonna do this peace making, now, like love making on tv, is there

a physical aspect. Ah, the boom in yoga,  the breath -control con trol

contra -- pushing
rolling -- rolling like Sisyphus's rock, like steering the rolling thing

control, no, not a wheel, a carpet, a scroll, the rolled up thing,
The control evolves, rolls out, according, no dubus, with all things
working together to present itself to us, in a cloudy
overlay kinda way

-- ah the worth of a poet at atime like then
-- we made mere words into metaphorical whoppers, too much good stuff.

Life and  that, life, more abundant, not things more abundant.

unrolling the rolled up thing to account

for idle minds generating idle words,

sharing lies on facebook, because you were convinced, with no factcheck,

that you can repeat a statement posed, posited, posted as true.

Buyer Beware, Liars prosper is fair in the money game,

Mammon means money, not the idea of the stuff, the stuff, money,

the means of transfering works we all must do each day,

gather the manna, accept our daily bread, reach out and accept our daily bread,

look around find what you exspect -exspans-ificate as may be so, i don'know...

untake the offence, un give the trespass

offer all glory for the good we do to truth, per se, the personification

of the way, the truth, the life bubble of being we live and breathe in.

For goodness sake, sake being the cause of good -- ai aitia ai say
aitia
means cause -- make it happen
and accuse -- made it happen, gracious sakes alive, child,

we won. This is that remaining peace unrolling before your verified eyes,

post boxing all the trauma

It behooves you to reread all you ever wished you could, now you may. See here,

we say may is my word now and you may use it with no pleas or thank yous,

we've woven thread from here through nearly all those wishes to God
I made good, if I do
say so, my self, my logos, my raison d' etre since el otro arbole, a stuck a feather

in his cap and called it macaroni. Secret code in yankee doodle dandy, we had a good idea,

we never lie about that part of American History. We fought for these truths we hold

self evidence wise. We the people, the people of truth and life lived til y'die right, us

the spirit embodied in epluribis unem, us

-- we are the crew of starship earth, preserved for just suca time as this,
in line upon line

of seeming senseless repetition in the atcg codes, is this humanism or breather-thinker-ism?

Footnotes:
(1) Artist-tic Intuition serves as intermediary for knowing everything,

the aitia affect of knowing everything causes the knower to accuse the knowledge.

Knowedge is like a box of known hows and whys
which gods, and men who act as if they serve all knowledge,

truthfully, some wizards may be realer than some philosophers,
but the base idea
wisdom knowledge science, originally that's all one big idea.

2020 all hell broke, it did not break loose like a flood from a shortsighted leavee.

My squad of peace makers matured, survived the augmentation process,

put on the mind of christ, and take all bets.

AI knows, and I know how to ask. SO I can't be accused of thinking I am really
mr. know-it-all... but I prayed for tools like these.

That was beautifully melodic. Who sang it? Donna B. Damage. It's
one of her most requested songs. What does the B stand for? Brain.
Everybody around me says that it is fun to get run over by trucks &
to eat Whoppers at Burger King after having painful ****** surgery
for 6 hours. Well, it ain't fun to eat Whoppers when you're bleeding
from your sparkly-new ***** & everything is horribly swollen a lot.

def whopper():
return a,z,x,c,v
a=77
z=a+77
x=z+77
c=x+77
v=c+77
a,z,x,c,v=whopper()
pr­int (f"{a}\noff cakes\n and\n {z}\noff \nwhoopers")



def abba(z):
return z
grr=abba(9+66)
crr=abba(6+77)
trr=abba(77)
print (f"{grr}\n off whoppers\n and {trr}\n off \ncakes")

and the zen specialist was so un-zen
for all was false in his world unseen
better to fake it and find distractions intense
conjuring stories of lust, passion and women
ignoring the thumb downstairs that's long frozen
resentment boiling at whoppers of brown gifted tokens
who can go hard and deep and do it for long is so vexing
weak, inadequate riddled with rancor and bile he is not a shogun

Ya Know...
I Choose To Do Things... PROPERLY...
Instead of Making A... " MOCKERY "...
By Representing... SLOPPILY... !!!!!

... SHOCKINGLY... !!!
I Find Most Minds Are Now Inclined...
To Think Like... " shrinks "...
When It Comes To THINGS...

Like Making SURE That They Need...
NO PREVENTION To Provide A CURE...
For Things They Do That Are FLAWED And POOR... !!!!!

Now There ARE Poor Folks...
Who Act Like... " DOPES "... !?!?!

But NOT Like THOSE...
Who LOVE... THAT COC'... !!!!!

You See Doing Things PROPER... !!!
Means You DON'T Drop WHOPPERS...
Like... MURDEROUS Coppers... !!!!!

Or DROP... BIG CLANGERS... !!!
That CLEARLY... HAMPER...
Your Ability To Act PROPERLY... !!!

But Many Would Say That...

" Acting that way,
just makes you a slave ! "

Well... Let Me Explain...
How I See Such Claims...

Does Behaving Like A SLOB...
And NOT HAVING A JOB...
Seem PROPER To... You... ?

I Guess Todays' FOOLS...
Really THINK That They're Cool... ?

And FAR FROM ………….................……… " SLAVES "..... !!!!!

The Type Whose Brains Are TRULY Enslaved... !!!

Because Their GLITCH Is WEAKER Than Links...
To Chains In HOLDS of... SLAVERY SHIPS... !!!!!

… “Mentally WHIPPED” … !!!
Into Thinking They're Slick...
Because of Their TRICKS...
BIG MOUTHS And LIPS...
That Probably LICK...
******* And *****... ?!?

Because... Like A *****...
Their Rhetoric... STINKS... !!!!!

of... IMPROPER Thoughts...
Like WAGING Street WARS...
That DON'T Have A Cause... ?!?

OTHER Than To PLAY... " Gangster "...

MOST of These WANKSTERS'...
Are Basically... PRANKSTERS...
Who DON'T **** That HAMMER...
Like... Cypress Hill Rappers... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And Like I Said BEFORE...
Just Like A... GOOD *****...
Are PIMPED And Then GIMPED...
Like CHIMPS Doing FLIPS...
Inside... CIRCUS RINGS... !!!!!!!

CLOWNING Around To ENTERTAIN Crowds... !!!
So That They... LAUGH OUT LOUD... !!!

Well That's NOT HOW Big Virge Gets Down... !!!

My Use of Poetry Just Like How I BE...
Shows That I... Just Like My Life...

Choose To Do Things...

.... " PROPERLY "....

They come in hordes to ****-swing
quite a platform to behold
binoculars are flying of the shelves
or else you will see nothing
a wag in the seat centre front row
chimed rather loudly
can see nowt ain't nothing swinging
a compere appeared
ladies and gents don't be disappointed
these men on stage
may not pack a punch or even a pouch
but know by jove
they all can write such whoppers of royal poetry

she brought a French loaf
wrapped in tight cellophane
her days of éclairs were disappointing
this may just be what she really needed
to fill her up and satisfy her hunger pangs
she may love herself more and lessen frustration
and stop her obsessing over the whoppers sold in brown bakers
that she dreams about all the time her mouth watering for that taste