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Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
.wow, i never thought it would ever be possible,
i'm sorry, i have no empathy for these youtuber "creators",
any idiot can regurgitate the news,
venture into vulture journalism,
  then again: gone are the days of closely associated
with people like Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein...
they are really gone: what the hell was gamer-gate
compared to watergate? gate after gate,
and all i'm hearing is response videos,
it should have never come to this,
whereby journalists are as untrustworthy as politicians,
and of what remains, come the saturday and
the sunday editions, when the petty bourgeoisie
come out of the woodworks of a week,
album reviews, book reviews, t.v. reviews,
restaurant reviews: real, real journalism,
all the grit you'd expect from a warzone...
           journalists forgot they were not kindred spirits
of politicians: but immediacy historians...
the front-line history chroniclers...
i find... these days, esp. these days...
    you know why i like heidegger so much,
and forget the fact that he joined the **** party?
in 1938 he was already disillusioned by it...
so the ad homine fallacy bites the dust...
   even a **** deservers a redemption...
but i find that these days, of all days...
   man, as a historiological creature has to bow
before the unshakeable facets of the biological man,
esp. in the english speaking world...
    in terms of history and biology:
     history has all the fun stories,
and a sensible "concern" for time,
   well... if not "concern" then at least a bearbable
time-frame...
                  after all, i am the one who said:
all the great deserts of the world,
akin to sahara? they were once great
mountain ranges... you already know where
to look between a mountain range akin to the alps
and a desert... bound to h'america...
   monument valley: utah...
  a mountain becomes a rock after a while...
while the desert expands...
    ayers rock (uluru)... but monument valley (utah)
is a transition period between a mountain range
and a desert, if we're going to stand outside
of all space and time, and look back in...
we have plenty of time to catch-up on...
           just like i believe that black holes
are actually 2-dimensional objects:
   that spin really fast, giving an impression
of them being 3-dimensional objects:
as usually represented by a gravity dip associated
with them pulling matter into themselves...
i think that black holes are paradoxes...
since how can a 2-dimensional object
actually exist in a 3-dimensional space?
   that depends on the size of the "3-dimensional"
object / space... the universe is a medium,
it's defined as a "space" but to me...
      it's beyond space... it's only space on the grounds
of isolated time, 365 days,
the time and space it takes for the earth
to orbit the sun... which is an isolated example,
outside? well: there's atmosphere on earth,
outside? vacuum!
who's going to prove my theory wrong?
               not anyone in my lifetime -
besides the point with these youtube content
"creators": where credit is due, credit is due,
but once might have cared for their vulture
journalism... two old farts akin to felix (black pigeon
speaks) and sargon of akaad talking about how:
the youth are congregating to youtube to listen
to music: that's what i've always done...
  i discovered these youtube "creators" by accident,
i just wanted my jukebox back, man,
i wanted my algorithm back, my imprint back,
now that the devil's dozen scenario took hold
of the platform: 1 video playing, 12 back-ups...
and they're all the same, unrelated, *******...
        talk all you want, please, just give back
my algorithm imprint, where i can discover new music...
again... i never thought i'd see another
compilation video, 173 videos bound to one...
and, mind you... after finding about 6 googlewhacks
(googlewhack? when you use the sort of
language that provides you with only one search
result on the behemoth platform of billions
of results, 1 is grand, but 6? it's becoming too
predictable)...
                        so here's what i found
   (band - song):

wooly mammoth - mammoth bones / kyuss - space cadet,
rainbows are free - last supper / grand magus -
                                                mountain of power,
zed - lies / om - cremation chant I & II,
    smoke - hallucination / weird owl - white hidden fire,
orchid - son of misery / witch - seer,
               unida - you wish / black mountain - old fangs,
b.r.m.c. - ain't no easy way /
              jack daniels overdrive - ****** to death,
shrinebuilder - blind for all to see,
                   datura - mantra / the heavy eyes - voytek,
the machine - infinity / clutch - the regulator,
   colour haze - mountain / maligno - son of tlalocan,
dozer - twilight sleep / gomer pyle - albino rattlesnake,
blockback - dead mans blues / greenleaf - witchcraft tonight,
cactus jumper - right way / borracho - bloodsucker,
alabama thunderpussy - motor ready,
                    earthless - sonic power,
my brother the wind - death and beyond,
   zaphire oktalogue - carrion fly / siena root - reverberations,
unida - slaylina / pothead - toxic / sungrazer - mountain dusk,
   rotor - costa verde / blizaro - it's in the lighthouse,
planet of zeus - woke up dead,
     kongh - pushed beyond / ufomammut - smoke,
high on fire - to cross the bridge,
              the secret - bell of urgency,
      unida - wet pussycat / dozer - big sky theory,
cavity - chloride / brutus - swamp city blues,
the grand astoria - something wicked this way comes,
sasquatch - the judge / pharaoh overlord - skyline,
baby woodrose - love comes down / kamni - **** of satan,
lay with me - the flying eyes / cowboys & aliens  -
                                                out of control,
sons of otis - liquid jam / hainloose - recipe,
    ridge - rancho relaxo / bongripper - ****** sutherland,
skraeckoedland - cactus / grails - satori,
    lo-pan - chicken itza / five horse johnson - people's jam,
blind dog - don't ask me where i stand,
     wiht - orderic vitalis / hisko detria - nothing happens,
liquid sound company - leage for spiritual discovery lives,
   goatsnake - black cat bone / gandhi's gunn - rest of the sun,
the egocentrics - wave / propane propane - it's alright,
heliotropes - ribbons / mother mars - price you pay,
che - the knife / annimal machine - condenado,
   earth - tallahassee / the whirlings - delirio,
orchid - heretic / maeth - horse funeral,
siena root - rasayana / graveyard - longing,
           tia carrera - hell / hainloose - recipe,
      burner - five pills (and a bottle of whiskey),
dala sun - guilty for ****** / vulgaari - lie,
        slo burn - muezli / stonehelm - zombie apocalypse,
smallman - evolution / spiders - fraction,
         shakhtyor - e. jaspers / earthmass - lunar dawn,
evoke the lords - dregs / colour haze - silent,
     sutrah - el septimo viaje...

  

who are "these" people,
who: "supposedly" live for the future...
they always cite it,
as the one motivational
momentum of the present -
it's as if they've never seen
a bull itch the ground
with its front hoofs -
   imitating building up momentum
before a charge...
or how a slingshot,
or how a bow works...
   to these people,
the ******* sideways movement
of a bow against a violin...
sometimes...
      you do not retreat into
the past, to hide, to amount
to nostalgia...
     sometimes
the only reason for the reflexive
affirmation, confined to maxims
and aphorism, nay: even poems!
is to look back...
     to reap what was once
sowed, rather than sow blindly,
and reap: what no one wants
to reap...
    drunk? getting there...
       it felt so relaxing paying off
a 100 / 250 part of a debt
i owe her...
            while buying a russian
standard liter,
   asking for a 100 cash-back
of the supermarket cashier,
- the limit is 50,
   but if you buy something else,
i can give you another 50...
- oh... ok...
   so me went to and took a bottle
of shveedish cider...
   rekorderlig...
   mind you? the swedish,
what they perfected fermenting
better than what the the irish claim
to fame is?
    sorry... magners:
               irish? stick to the guinness...
(it's actually the only cerveza
i'd go into an english pub to
drink from the tap... bottled? canned?
not the same)...
     but with such swedish delights
such as the above mentioned,
  ålska and K  ö   nigsberg
                            *œ
?
no competition... the suede(s) just
do one thing grand...
    cider...
- what was i talking about?
  ah... the "dreaded" past...
     the people who say:
  but you can't live out a life,
   holding onto a private past,
a memory...
    so... these other ******* were
allowed to implant a false
past, unrelated to me,
teaching me whether it was
Newton, or Leibniz who first
invented the infinitesimal calculus
method?
                i'm betting on Leibniz...
after all... he took the position
of a ******* librarian...
   and he wasn't buried with pomp
& circumstance at Westminster Abbey...
sometimes...
         one person can't have it all...
but if the education system
is a system that is indicative for
the erosion of memory, esp. private
matters... and juggernauts in
with these selective rubrics of science
and history...
fair enough the basic
implants: numerical arithmetic,
and lettering arithmetic -
    and then... lessons in mental
entertainment... when applied
           to menial labour...
memory is: supreme...
          i can't give my memory up...
that's what: killer proteins
eating the fat tissue of the brain
like starvation in reverse
        of a case of Alzheimer's?
memory is: cameo cinema -
    however distorted it might be,
although i beg to differ on
whether time per se,
  is not the better psychedelic
component
when coupled with memory -
esp. the cinematic aspect of memory...
there was never a "living" in
the past -
      there was a point about memory
to sharpen the edges of
    "dasein"... all speculation and
questions regarding consciousness,
as championed through
a chimpanzee's *** are somehow
pointless:
    given there's a higher tier of
conceptualization -
   working from dasein...
            hierjetzt -
      or in english?             presence...
- because why would i treat
a personal memory,
like some inorganic entity of
a schooling system,
under Catholic measures,
  that made it necessary to include
Pythagoras... but not Horace?
that's inorganic memory...
and unless i turn into some
inorganic entity -
   the organic aspect of my psyche:
my past, my cameo cinema?
   that's going to be a leech,
attached to me...
  and i'm not going to give it up,
just like... when i walk about
my door, and enter the england
that i know on the peripheries...
i'll speak the lingua franca -
     but with my privacy?
    you'd better cut my tongue off
before i stop speaking
my western slavic heritage...
    and it pains me...
when certain groups of immigrants...
don't know the POINT
where immigration becomes
insensible... self-lacerating...
           i once hated their approach...
now i just pity them...
anyone ****** can juggle
     two oranges rather than three...
p.s. old school cure for a cold?
forget the pills...
   glass of warm milk,
  an egg yolk,
     and a good scratch of butter...
  (on the rare occasion,
  milk infused with garlic)

mixed together...
before bedtime...
  if the ****** won't sweat out
the bacteria during the night...
     well... stick to the synthetics...
i'm pretty sure i know why i drink...
certainly not to: PARTY PARTY PARTY...
i always aim for
the one safety net of "pharmacology"...
ssssssssleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

p.s. so much for children loving their
parents...
        in vitro and the whole
m.g.m. debacle:
so, sweet little *******,
       no *******, no chance for your
for a quickie satellite launch date from
Tehran, under all the weight of
monotheism turned secular...
christianity: the only "monotheism"
with overt tinged of polytheism,
lutheran, baptist, catholic, orthodox...
just today i opened my door twice...
once to a confused curry house delivery man:
did you order some food:
i too replied with a confused look
and the word: huh?! no.
then a black woman with a a white ol' granny
came by with a leaflet...
the jehovah's witnesses were on my trail...
lucky of my grandfather,
   the profanity brigade of the hebrew name
i will not dare utter came by...

  and if you have lived a good enough life:
memory? memory beats hollywood
technicolour and CGI...
at least in the cinema of memory i always
get to play the cameo (role)...

oh i get the youtube creators:
   living with his parents... still. aged 33...
funny that i don't mind them,
since they're getting older they're settling
into their solispsism,
        annoying as ****, but i stand them,
thank god the protruding caduceus veins
on my phallus protected me from
a circumcision...
  i can ******* like a girl with a web-cam...
no scented candles:
the no. 1, 2 & 3 on the throne of thrones...
the toilet, simultaneously masaging my ****
and prostate...

men were not exactly supposed to derive
pleasure from ***: they were,
supposed to give pleasure,
and in giving pleasure to one outlet,
they were subscribed to finding out what
best pleases them: ergo?
women would always derive more of
the people from *** than men would ever...
*** is not a story of bragging about
a harem... the woman lies flat...
the man pumps her...
after all... she is the one burdened
to carry a child, why wouldn't she be
the one deriving more pleasure from *** than
a man could ever?
72 virgins! ha ha!
   ah ha ha!
             what's the ratio?
   last time i checked... a 3 hole caravan...
of a woman's worth...
   mouth, ******, ****... and man?
only two points of entry, well...
"entry"...
                    seems that the tomatoe,
really is a fruit, but is treated like a vegetable
nontheless!
homosexuality in the 1960s...
william burroughs in Tangiers...
                    when Islam was quiet radical...

well... i cook, i clean...
                what are my other options of continuing
to write and living the ed gein "lifestyle",
i tried getting social housing in england,
but, i'm not a somali with two wives and a dozen
kids...
              rent, in london?
extortion...
                   housing shortage...
                 well there's me hating my parents,
the outside world just needs to see
an ed gein imitation...
               or there's me living off acorns
in the woods, or rummaging on the streets,
making the N25 bus from oxford st. to ilford
my own personal mobile hotel as a homeless
man in london...

   i think it's time to succumb to your
parents prejudices, if only for the jokes,
no point in making ethical high judgements
to fit into a zeitgeist narrative surrounding
yourself with people: you'd never eat a meal with...
that's how i define the highest form of respect:
if i'll eat with you: implies that i respect you...
i drink alone...
a high school fwend once thought he could
bribe me with his company,
that i "had to" drink with him...
      no... not really...
          i much prefer drinking by myself...
these days you're not expected to honour your
mother and your father,
i.e. make them proud...
               honour is a double-edged sword...
just don't be ashamed of having
a mother or a father...
not that hard: given western divorce rates...
i.v.f., frozen eggs... yadda yadda yadda...
lucky me in having went to university...
oh... really? so much cooler in a cosmopolitan
environment with your contemporary
flat-mates?
               get the picture?
                 paying rent while literally living
in a diguised cardboard box?
i can't help the fact that poetry doesn't pay...
that there are economic factors beyond
my control in play...
   maybe if i was the grandson of my parents,
born in england, and not elsewhere,
there would be some sort of + leverage...
for a bricks and mortar start-up...
plus... i hoard...
         books and music...
                     mind you:
neither of my parents spoke english as their
mother tongue...
  neither did i...
they didn't teach me this tongue:
i had to teach this language by myself:
for myself...
           aged 8: thrown into the deep end
of the pool: now swim ******, swim!

i just feel sorry for the immigrant parents
who gave birth to their children into the *****
of the land they immigrated to...

two days ago i found a heartbreak,
a romanian couple, with a child...
the father was stubborn in teach his daughter
his / her native sprechen...
romanian... but she was already speaking
perfect antithesis of accent kindergarten english...
and almost non-responsive to her tongue
alligned to her biology...
    clearly she was born in england,
but her parents were both romanian...
i've had that conundrum in my head
for a long time...
   what if i married an english girl...
and i was unable to teach my offspring
my native language,
what if i had to silence my native tongue,
"forget" it, or only speak it by myself,
via reading a book in western slavic?
what if the woman i married:
wouldn't see the benefits of bilingualism,
outside of the mainstream economic
mantra of ensuring your children
learn either german or mandarin or arabic?
that worried me...
          oh believe me, i enjoy my lapses
into english: since i am providing the groundwork...
but in the case of having offspring...
e.g. teaching them the western slavic tongue
so they could speak to their grandparents
(i.e. my parents)...
       even my grandparents lament
the scenarios when a woman would marry
an austrian... and she wouldn't teach
her children her native tongue,
and when the grandchildren would visit their
grandparents... they'd be speaking
a crude variation of braille, morse,
   sign-language: na migi...
               i know that my mother is alive
in me even under this veil of english...
because she's more than the womb,
the genitals of my conception, the breast fed off...
she's also the Atlas of my vocabulary
of the "hiding" tongue beneath this one...

i already knew the "game" was rigged from
the get-go... i've seen how one hindu woman
suffered being married to a scouser...
she never managed to pass on her language
to her children,
she bought a library, thinking her children
would succumb to learning: however poor
they might end up being...
but she was suffocated by the english
tongue of her husband...
and her children didn't express even the most
vague of desires to learn their mutterzunge...

that's what worried me to begin with,
marrying an english woman i was afraid
of the ignorance that someone bilingualism
was en route toward a psychiatrist disorder
i was diagnosed with: schizophrenia...
this anglophonic ignorance still scares me...
like: everyone is expected to speak the revisionist
globalist lingua franca: this anglo lingua...
if i didn't meet a bilingual / polyglot woman,
i'd return to rearing idiotic children...
anglo lingua was only supposed to be a middle-ground,
a "no man's land"...
             a language of trivial economic transfers...
a language primarily orientated around usage:
rather than an ethno-centric basis for "englishness"...
to **** with: god save the queen...
the british grenadiers' fife & drum...
                 old scot dragoons': auld lang syne...
those where my forever anthems...
see...
        what gave birth to a jihadi john?
his mother "forgot", his father "forgot":
his "mother" forgot, his "father" forgot to speak
the "ancient" tongue...
there's a point to integration of the immigrant,
an immigrant is a forgetful creature,
an ever pleasing creature...
never to mind himself as an ex-pat...
you ****** forget your mutterzunge...
you'll be speaking in cockney accents
with broken affairs of arabic beheading people
for zombified reasons of grandeour!
*******...
          you, you: you are to blame!
you were so ashamed of your parents that you
delved on honoring them to the point
of thinking giving pride unto them was very
much akin as keeping shame away from
their girdle of the wedlock of your own existence!
death has not made your a martyr...
i guess you deserve those 72 mishaps,
those 72 annoying voices...
and i pray to god that you receive your reward!
i hope that among the 72 you will never find
a chance a repose to find your: self!

integration is one thing,
pandering to the "elites": plebs who think they
are kings among the plebs,
is quiet another...
plebs who go places and think english
is a universal tongue: just because
uncle sam says so...
of those i respect:

y cymraeg: pwy dal eu tafod...
an gàidhlig: cò fhathast bruidhinn an cuid teanga...
i nawet moim: co ma mówić
to nawet tyle: co znaczy tak niewiele!

there are boundaries... learn the customs
of the natives, but ensure you retain the customs
you were born with...
a child, born in a foreign land,
ought to ensure his parents teach him
the words to speak to his grand overseers...
complete immersion,
this cultural abortion,
this cutting of the umbilical chord
from: i have never met a people so
content at having been subjugated outside
the indian sub-continent,
cricket... for ****'s sake...
       as to demand other europeans
to treat them as superiors,
when sitting alongside an englishman...
****-bud-bud, the **** are you on about?!
once again: england has become the circus
for the grounding of what began
with engels and marx...
   wasn't communism born from
engels and marx observing english society?
sure... first experimented en masse in
mongolia... but its origins?

   so of course i had problems finding a suitable
mating partner... i was afraid that my nativ-zunge
would die a slow but solemn death...
that an english bridge would not consider
the worth of a bilingual child, or a polyglot,
or that she would repress the chance of my
"biological continuum nuance" to respond outside
of the anglo lingua refrain of: beside the english language?
there are quiet a few one might want to learn...

it's not easy being a first generation immigrant,
esp. if you moved aged 8, mute as a wolf
to a domesticated dog's barking...
but hey, no jihadi john in me...
           jihadi john should have been raised
bilingual... i wouldn't be the one speaking broken
tourist arabic while beheading someone...
jihadi john spoke tourist arabic...
the dichotomy of the mind to the biological
reality, beside the current, western,
"biological relativism" debate...
      clearly darwinism was "wrong"...
man is, these days, left with neither a biological
reality, nor a historical reality...
              but there is a historical reality:
but it's so knit-&-picky...
come on... philip augustus of the capetian
dynasty?
                 casimir III...
                        jeremi wiśniowiecki...
konrad I of masovia...
                           kuno von lichtenstein...
alles ist gott: und gott ist alles -
  gott mit, uns!

              mit eine leben wert leben:
    erinnerung ist die nur kino
             wert sehen eine film beim;

hell... could be worse:
   i might have translated some latin
of horace into pig-trough comfort food.
Barnaby Harrison Nov 2014
The cloudy skies on this dark night
Light up wiht dove white light
Penetrating near and far
Just like an albino star

The shadows jump amongst the trees
I'm consumed in my white marquee
A tender breeze to cool to touch
What god created such?

Water shimmers in the glow
A spotlight on the crowing crow
This magical theatre comes to life
Like Macbeth with a silver knife

But alas here comes the bloodshot skies
As the sun begins to rise
Pushing the moonlight far away
All to return, another day...
MST Apr 2014
Let me tie my own noose please,
for I know how I like it,
tied with what I call a tease,
and a loop as a ***.
For this is what hangs me,
not my failed work,
but my growing inhibitions.
And as I try to fix my sin,
and stop all repercussions,
my inner self pulls a grin,
and I find myself wiht a concussion.
I don't know where I am,
I don't know how I got here,
but there I am, in a jam,
with a woman biting my ear.
It isn't as if I don't try to have control,
for a perfect set of gifts is not my only goal,
but the simple distraction,
has caused me to faction,
debating over my hearts contraction,
while my body only looks for action.
So what can I do? With these corrupt counterparts,
working together, to tear us apart?
I can merely succumb to my soul,
as I don't have the strength to fight my bodies control.
Vladimir s Krebs Nov 2015
i feel like every breath i take when i am angry fill with smoke that takes my soul away.
every mistake i have made brings me and you closer. i want answer's that will tell me the truth.  why do i have a demonic life with smoke that fills my lungs! how angry do you have to make me till i lose control and go on a rampage. how long before i can get my own soul back.i am a demonic being that will take a life and rote it to death. i stand alone with anger that spits all your ******* lies out. im going to lose control and show this world what life with out a soul will be like when all you breath smoke in your lungs that destroy you life roting your mind away wiht only

ANGER
HATRED
DISPISE

smoke filling my lungs with only anger and *******.
i dont stand along with the crowd i stand alone away from societys ***** triks.

my demonic life has nothing but darkness that writes my life storie of what its like to be in hell.



smoke fills my lungs cause thats whats going to happen when you trade your soul for what ever greed needs

so trace my foot steps ill dissapear like the sun dose every day.

smoke fills my lungs cause i'm just a broken soul that has no where to go exept rain hell onto those whoe made my life misrable enstead
like is so pissy with every one so sufficating when yo have to work on a project for school
Endia Chardea Oct 2014
Laugh because you smile
Smile because you laugh
Laugh like no one is listening
Smile like no one is watching
Love like you will recieve a gift
Give everyday like Christmas
Forgive like you were never hurt
Sing like the angels
Be an angel to someone
Be a geany and grant wishes
More than three, a life supply
Fall love like you've never fallen
And when you fall
Get back uplike you;ve never fallen
Smile like you'be never grined
Laugh like its you first time
Wake up with the birds
You have no time to waste
Only waste time when time wants it
And that is never
Pet a lion ad see if it he bites
Eat an apple to see if it is spoiled
Do extra and the extreme
Be you and not me
Fly with the angels and birds
Swera never
Promise nothing
Speak out, say something
Move around, don't be still
Listen to music, then make your own
Sit quite and grow strong
Live life, don't moan
Pain stays and pain goes
Pictures last long
Letters even longer
Add dates to keep count
This world is tricky on days
Mondays feel like Tuesdays
And Tuesdays feel like Thursdays
You don't have to have a reason
Not for every thing
Sometimes its better to do what you feel
And not what you mean
And don't be mean
There isno reason to
For God loves you
And so not stare
Or give that glare
Someone could get hurt
Or already is
For you know nothing of that person
Compared to what God knows
That person could have it all
Awrds lined up on the walls
With no family or friends
Or even worse
No religion
So laugh alot
It helps, alot
Smile because it means your alive
Frown to much and you could die
Count you blessings
If you can count that high
And pray up toward the sky
Were the moon and staes look down
Remember
They se everything
Things you can and can not see
Some things that neither please them
Nor me
Be happy you're not dead
Not yet
Smile often so God feels appreciated
"Love all" the Bible states it
Live wiht o regrets, but one
The one where you  regreted something that made you have fun
Fun
Thats right, that is in life
you have fun when you laugh
When you smile
Take a picture, worth while
Keep going every mile
Take a shot here and there
Yea, they hurt, but its a great worth
You think about what you could lose
Or, what you lost, if to late
So if everything is at stake
Be happy
Smile
Be clam
Sit down
Stay quite
Make sound
And love all around
is you use this please give me credit  Endia Dees
Cynthia Clark Aug 2010
You have a house and three kids
And a college degree despite getting pregnant at seventeen
You lived and you've learned
You went through alot and it really isn't fair
But life isn't easy and no one ever said it would be
You got to deal wiht the bad things and hope they go away
You are told good things are to come
But I've been waiting for awhile and this bad stuff keeps adding up
Nothing good is coming and I'm sick of waiting
I don't want ot give up but soemtimes it's your only choice
Grim Reaper Jul 2016
You've offered the Prayers but did not practice it, what is the use of it..
Neither u took care of your house nor the members, what is the use of yearning..

you read Holy Books and could not follow it then what is the use of these deeds..

Bulleh shah says one will know when the sparrow will be in the hands of eagle (it means all of ur deeds will be seen in front of God , here you are Sparrow and God is Eagle )

Your all deeds will be calculated there and you will be rewarded/punished accordingly

So better not do bad wiht anyone.
No Offense...
irinia Jan 11
time bombarded me wiht its silence today, the sky was closer, birds more transparent. maybe because of the intersection of wonder and scream. once I was one with my wounds. I had thoughts without spin today, only the wounds of the world spinning in the distance. the impossible mixture of blood dust shattered bricks, death is so ignorant, so messy. you used to smile when you saw me eating blueberries naked. in the core of trees there is silence, isn't it? in the core-self there is an emptiness full of antiwords, isn't it?
mike Jan 2013
liaf is e qislaxic sdypar
wiht lattars es lasg.

daeht is in ist aggs.
life is a dyslexic spider with letters as legs.
death is in its eggs.
Katja Jul 2017
Nightsky was huge that night
all of us idiots standing aside
first of all aside from the road
and secondly from the life.

We were **** free!
And  nobody from outside liked it.
We smoke some *** in THE place
and got a bit lost in the mist.

The one wiht the eyes
you know like way too great eyes
He told me secrets
and I was sure it was a god

Well we hit the road all the time
we were in the wind
you could have felt us
when you were miserable.

Our group was magical
historical
and it would have killed us all
if I didn't **** them both.
Lyn Stebbins Feb 12
lights sparkle on pine tress all over town,
kids lauphing as they sled down a hill
coverd with snow. cars wiht christmas trees in towe,
winter sun sets pink and chrimsom.
People busteling in stores, tis a time  fore joy and love,
remembering him above
time
to smile at a stranger.












by Lyn dec 9th 2015
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2018
/i tend to don sunglasses,
encompassing the night...


never the aggravated
             youth,
as made pardonable...
into a circumstance
        of hardly gagging for death:


double whammy,
to cirumstance mortality:
     you engage with
teenagers,
     and you're not experienced
to deal wiht them...

and then you metion:
           a death wish...
and they run away,
given the fact that you've
bought them an excess of
$6 worth of *****?

                now you're *******
me off pdf. contra jpeg.
formatting!
                no, seriously!
there's an actual reason
why, to the 20th century
writers will never, ever,
become "too" apparent...  

    these ******* never had
to deal with clinical
insomnia?
     the merger of
dreams, thoughts,
and death,
  suddenly made synonymous
with a thesaurus
scrutiny...

                 i died
to the account of thrice...
what little you do will do
just as little for
me to encompass
understanding the random,
or the average....
  
get my drift?!

    no?!
                güt!

            auch nein unß
                sich kümmern!
                        gegeben dies!

seems i was quiet
the effective / necessary
                        cognitive artefact...
more the titilating abel,
rather than the baß(e)-on cain
in terms of employment...

                the ******-sort...
           wizard-quasi...
                         a major projection
of a HA..
                  a necro-"philia"
   assertetive of one only being
able to bias eating pork,
having stomached
   ingesting
                 the leeches
and clinging artefacts
                   of Poseidon's
domain!
          
                           well ****, me!

the bellitling surmount
that people could attest to!
and there they go,
off, on their own ownership
off on a tangent,
  like exhibiting the character
of a vector...
          well i didn't
go to university to study
psyche, that's for sure...

   i was about to embark
on sustaining pop culture
by rekindling the imitation
ending in the sigma that
became: toothpaste / shampoo...

shame a sense of
romance strated to wrestle with me...
teasing Cain...
    i'd still overt:
in escaping the night
with exercising a Plantagenet
"right" of utilising
      sunglasses... esp. inclusive
of doing so, by the "consequence"
of experiencing the night...
          
    i solved one teenager confrontation
by telling them:
  you call your uncle, sure...
problem is... you see...
          i have a... death wish:
******* could out-run usain bolt...
quicker than an *******!
shame that's not even
   moderately corrective
   of the life i inhibit...
                  rather than fake:
in the cruel reality of having to inhabit,
   ex omni exemplum: quare ipsum?
if this is bad latin,
then i certaily shouldn't have
asked my anesthetist prior to being
admistered to the hands of a german "butcher"
pulling my wisdom teeth out:
                     quo vadis?
long sleep, within the confines
of an anesthetic: requires,
                       this simple question'
death-anticipatory... just in case
someone forgot the ontology of mortality;
thank-**** death being
                     hardly "the" surprise!

— The End —