what's in a name what's in a name
in the end
within a name there is no name
but a pre-noun and a pronoun
and          that glorious word THING
and boomerang not a boomerang
of I to It
           to I as It           and It a non-It
a spoke
              the spokes in a wheel...
a wheel is an Ezekiel
                     is my first learning of the name:
little Yash                 and jesz? i.e.
are you eating?    my words my silences
my atonement for say:
the miraculous spring afternoon
finding myself enjoying the act of reading:
regardless of what i'm reading:
or rather i am actually reading Frank Herbert's
Dune but i should be reading
al-Masudi's the meadows of gold
and currently that's a first edition
on amazon going for
£47.99
            so until i get a wife and a surrogate
daughter i can and will splash out
on books in the purchasing window
of £30 to £50 and since i'm not rich
enough of rich-autistic enough
or autistic enough
to be splashing on paintings
like that story of the founder of Barbie
no not Ruth Handler
before pornographic magazines
the Swiss invented the Susie Susan Sour-****
to gag men into
the predicaments they found themselves
in as world war ii bomber pilots
then came the infamous poster reel
from Shawshank Redemption and
boys those girls those flinging-mig-magic jazz
of ****
those lonely nights
and days
but mostly the nights
and on my 38th birthday i masturbated
like 3 times
because a day prior i was talking
to a friend outside of the Spurs' Coliseum
and we talked about being 38 and 72
and cancer of the prostate and how he got
it removed and now can't get an *******

i would have killed to venture into
the ear to eye osmosis
of being at the
Boris Brejcha at Arènes de Nîmes...
artist to artist
this is not me Matthew Arnold
a limp **** poet
crying to bed after seeing Liszt play
because music has changed
and there's no genius of music
but a genius of music-inclusion therapy...
"therapy" / therapy?

Friday came a little late: now that i'm imagining things,
writing on a chrome book
in my own room i remember days
when i used to drink a liter of whiskey
and write from 10pm to 5am
having given up smoking marijuana
at the age of 21 weighing in at 65kg
after an experience
with: what i'm guessing...
not Jesus and not Yashwa...
but rather: and i only learned of his name today:

dualism of monotheism: the little yahweh...
                       A

           E          Y         I                   𐤃

                                                   ∇
                  O       U

yad dah...
           YDDH...

                     turbulent lessons in how the consonants
are props and vowels drift in and out
to allow for Semites to transliterate nouns
Semites need to transliterate nouns
which cannot be said
of Matthew of Mateusz of Mateo
but Matthias says it's possible...

the angel: Metatron...

                        i'm seeing Mega:
like the movie Tron (updated like Dune updated)
and the soundtrack and something megalomaniac...
like the affairs of non-existence
of supposing within
pre-noun pronoun
preposition and proposition
are so why can't a pre-noun
exist before i learn the names of things
before i inject conjunctions and adverbs
big and small
i usher in a chemical laboratory of
Ar Na Cl He Fe
no Ar...

natrium chlorum
    helium            ois

                 ferrum...

terra ferrum: iron earth
                              in akimbo venturing for
broken bones and fixation on bones
206 of these...
and i overheard that Muhammad Ahmed
knew the exact number of bones
in the human body (does that include the teeth?)
32 teeth...
   that's 9 vowels and 23 consonants
in the Polish alphabet...
bad tooth England only has 26 letters
and boast all it can about Latin VQ
it does not have...

oh not bones then joints
i heard about the number 350 being cited...
although i sometimes wonder
about O and little o
of degrees and that's really thinking about
the 0 and to the power of
infinity is infinity oscillating in
a duality: even and especially if it's
a monotheism:
why then o why i wonder
at the predicament of Islam
because it is not out simple migration
but the excesses of Dubai must
be hitting the average muslim hard
if they be wanting to move with us
European paupers, no?
us drunken savages we are savages
and we returned to our pagan ways
just as i might have predicted why
Poland defended the pagan power
of Lithuania and why Christianity
never really spread to certain parts of Europe
but was kept in check by some
Russian Greek or Varangian...

i saw it in his eyes when his father
head-butted one of this soldiers
i'd bet i will put a bet on, everything i have...
on Usyk beating Fury...
the odds?

Fury 5/6 ahead of Usyk at 11/10
strange numbers...
i saw Bohun in his eyes
the cossack romantic figure in Sienkiewicz'
with Fire and with Sword...
yes saw it and this is the only sport
i'd bet on with a heart of a gamble
beyond the £1.00 threshold
unlike Bukowski betting on horses
i did similar antics
betting on scores in football...
but nothing major always stingy no greater
thrill than earning money
and saving money
and then spending it on kayaks or canoes
or books or compact disks or
£12 summer dresses and what not
however the trend is these days
last time i tried tapping into anything
relevant on the internet
but same old:

men, bears and £12 summer dresses
that are like the rule
pulled up in the forest on the sly
with no suspenders or tights
just the suntanned skin with no wintry
attaches of still ***** still
playing chess still not playing
backgammon still no chess
unless with a kid
and i loved how i saw the engineering
of AI in chess games
and how the kid was losing and
just because she's a girl doesn't mean
i'll let her win
or that i'd let her win no because
i didn't but i don 't mean playing
chess with a ****** partner
or watching t.v. with her
because no unless there might be physical
dimensions askew like how could
we possibly do it, physically speaking
i mean how could we when we couldn't
and that would be her licking
the eyepop pop-sickle sickly sweet
no teeth grandma ***
or me and her already wrinkled *****
slurping oysters
Bang Dan... Bang Dan... sounds Vietnamese...

why would: ah: authenticity...
38 outside the range
but in the range 21 - 35 have to complete
3 months of agricultural labour
to qualify as citizen of Australia...
i think that's rather nice...
i only submitted the form on a whim
but i received no automated response...
instead a Jamie Chirpseer
got in touch: apparently they have been calling

now i don't know but
last time i "measured"
that's only an 8h50 flight from Auckland
to Hawaii
so i'm thinking why set my foot behind
a door with a mother in law
watching scoop me up Jesus
t.v. and being all paranoid about my status
as ******* on the closed enclosure
of Kauai
but i sure as **** threw a decent birthday
party by the pool
well shared but this is claustrophobic writing
i.e. claustrophilic my ego
says there is a cursor and pre-
to nouns so i'm cleared: cleared by I'II"
however many that is:
1 foot 11 inches last time i checked...
ego-**** that is: the little horn on my head
that turned into a hovering 360 degree eye spin...

seeing those last words written days
ago, happily discarded
now upon return with a pop-sensibility of aging
no new music but there are some unavoidable
stresses in neu alles neu: billy and eddy's
Lunch not naked Lunch not naked
all food in attire:
me sitting in a tuxedo and sneakers
with a baker boy's cap: some unifying piece of attire
whether you're at White Hart Lane
or whether at the Boleyn -
                  unifying attire like some distinction
between the Tribes of London gone out
of the window with the babies in a circus of bathtubs
falling from the sky
because raining cats and frogs
had all the dogs drinking from puddles of beer
morphing into hyenas - crying over Benson Boone
singing all god is jesus
and no god of a muhammad
there is no transliteration of tongues and words on
tongues and words not on tongues
but abstracted thought and missing in crosswords
because like a dyslexic being good with numbers
because is such a terrible word right
now...
but good in manners of speech: or is that speach
like i want to bite into a peachy apple
                         like crossbreeding happens and you
could craft champagne from thin air
breed a german shepherd and a spaniel
or what was used to breed a dachshund
from a dobermann...

   the Q and the Mark i.e.

                     Mark              +                Q(uelle)

                    ­                        =

                      Matt            ­   &              Luke

i came across people interested in religion and
the mammoth goliath that is Christianity
of conversation
and a revamp from the year 1945 from Egypt
the Nag Hammadi library -
and all that invoked by the Church Mothers
maybe another Frank Zappa moment if i could
sing but instead i found my voice
my voice in giving SIA a briefing after having
worked with stewards on a bag cordon
at Wembley...

now how to find respite, next day the cycle
still not fixed so house bound
at least able to wash the bedsheets
and hang them in the garden of sunlight
to then dress the bed once more in all that air
and wool
like floating sheep and perhaps horses with
wings
and perhaps apes to
and perhaps men with four arms and no more
than two feet
and perhaps wheels and fire and the internet
and printing and copying
and all that towers and gardens from Tokyo
to Baghdad -
                               cascade of the human experience
ethics is apparently objective
well i could have sown the swearing ogre oath
i loath in **** me **** me oh **** me
jurisprudence is subjectivity par excellence...
so rarely do you have judgement by the peers
by the jury: jurisprudence -
instead English law and the barrister
and judge and triangles of politics -
i hardly speak in the court of law -
perhaps fellow human will allow
me to think before god:
perhaps i can think before god
if i can't speak in the court of law if i can't speak
in the court of man then perhaps
i will be able to think in the court of god:
at least there's hope with me writing this down...

yes, i put a weird bet on two nights ago...
Tyson Fury vs. Olek Usyk...
bets on, whatever the algebra of gambling
5/6 and 11/10 as a decimal:

      0.8333                  and 1.1111

ニ: 0.747747748
      ホ: 0.9213

if i were to see mathematics with letters,
notably division by the first number
and multiplication by the second numbers
(Ni                   **)

but at least no muddle with too many numbers
like too many notes in Mozart's
'seph II  Holy Roman Emperor (1765-1790)

    ヨーヨー                 (yoo yoo toy boy not
yo! or yo-yo                but no ideogram?

let me rummage...)

                         bandalore... idea: image at least
some     :)                  or some :'(

      maybe get a hummingbird tattoo on my neck
in devotion to the Aztex i.e.  Huītzilōpōchtli

pero āmo tēchentenderoa lo que tlen
tictoah en Nahautl                                 TLEN:
oxi         oz                       oxygen-c-c

                           TKANKA: tis            tss tis tss
Sue: Ssue...                   SS: Ś
                    i.e. tissue:
                                                       /ˈtɪʃ.uː/ /ˈtɪs.juː/

maybe a truly phonetic poem
or a truly transliterated biblical text
a snippet only a snippet because i have enough
of a day to live to spend another hour
or so in akimbo or on my knees
before the writing desk that's my bed
no no: but a short equip-me "poem"
a quirk like a sneeze to base my focus on tissue
and SS i.e. Ś
and other instances i could possibly see it in
in the English tongue...

all of a sudden working with Pakistanis, Bangladeshis
and the Sudanese is or can ever be
about a white English boy with some
post-colonial stresses and ancestry questions
about why the former Commonwealth
Empire imploded and no wonder
given the Civil War in Sudan
why then complain about the English i wonder
but i don't have that problem
given no one can really look sensibly accusing
the Polacks of imperialism and colonialism
base mention of Mongols and the Ukranians
while the Lithuanians dwarfed under Russian Stalinism
and what remnants of German blood
fused during the northern crusades
to give birth to a German fusions of
Estonians, Prussians, Latvians and the Fins
at least we know that the Prussian pagans steered
the gentle happy german soul
for some time or so the romanticism goes...

                  this is still writing under the influence
of Billie Eilish's LUNCH on repeat:
the glad days of my 20s spent never speed dating
not really singing sad songs of psychopathic love triangles
and later sycophantic bare minimum poetry
yuck cringe and are we of the first people
to be given a literacy adventure in proficiency?
so my little historical debrief:
well... it's all funny how i too came on a banana boat
with the rest of them
that astounding reflection of a Pakistani from Luton
born and bred with mosque like a seashell brought
along in the night of the crimson moon
the LESBIAN flag of ISLAM
i.e. the marriage of the girl moon and Venus...
because isn't that "star" with the crescent not Venus
unless that's Venus with a scimitar
and who was the woman of the origins of Islam
running between two hill tops with her son
looking for water?
Hajarah and concubine of Ibrahim?

              at the diner with Ismail having no dinner
but food for thought
in some absent heaven and in some absent hell
but rather in a limbo of grey objects
and a blistering itch of sunshine that
turns a hyperbolic white skin of the north
a golden serpent glee
and invokes spying for the Greeks or ancient
Romans in Lebanon
with: mind you: with all those Pale Orthodox Jews
might just fit in...
but wait: i digress... i've been looking for an ideogram
for a yo-yo... wasn't i?
a yahoo too: a yo-yo playing with a yahoo
when there was whey and rye and lasso and spey
and whatever way was in the where...

          ilocano: aj aj: moje kolano

         (exercise in pain onomatopoeia
         and possessive article: moje / mine
         noun: kolano / knee)

oh yes... and a rubric of the bets i made on the Tyson
Usyk match-up... tailors to the glove
a dash of Polansky on the ring...
left right tango with tango of men
so rough **** so not like ******* a woman
so unlike...

thus:

    no yo-yo: but axle:                        軸
my guess is as good as anyone's
with however many confines of
//     \ |               |||          /|/|/      \|\|\

to quiz up a T                 or an L
let alone an O because so rigid have to swim
to Yippon for the proper edible tongue

now to reveal the Gambler and how i will never be
able to write yet admire
a Hemingway and a Bukowski...

Usyk by technical decision (100/1)
stake... £0.10
Fury by technical decision (100/1)
stake £0.10
Usyk by disqualified opponent (100/1)
stake £0.10
Fury by disqualified opponent (100/1)
stake £0.10
Usyk by decision of technical decision (2/1)
stake £5.00
net return £10.00
Usyk by KO, TKO or DQ (5/1)
stake £5.00
return £0.00

any anyone who might read the newspapers
would tell you
the decision was crystal clear, scientific,
on the margins, within talk of inches and decimals
and... ooh... itchy...
115-112, 114-113 to Usyk
and 114-113 to Fury...

rematch? what is now to be disputed is by winning
through that bet i made: 5/1
or rather 5:1 but ratios would be any less if
using a colon?
                               enough bark to patch up a
cagey sneer and then return to kiss daylights: out
because now somewhat disputable
in the arena or the courtroom
better judgement watching sport
than those daytime zombie land drug-shows
of the courtroom melodrama soaps
and operatic demand for feeding the collective
consciousness split seconds per day
accumulating into binge potato peeling of skin
and intellect on the sofa...
even now: hardly a waste of good coffee
   and tobacco...                with the added "spice"
of BIMBER... beam-bear to spread out the letters
and transliterate: not to imply anything beside
the phonetic arrangement
of the letters as beam-bear: it's still the meaning
behind BIMBER the sweet 45% *****...

(q)uelle: yet there is hardly a similar problem
associated with Socrates...
given the accounts by Plato
Xenophon oh and let's not forget Aristophanes...
especially him
because he was hardly all luvvy-dabbling in
writing works of just fiction...
satire of the lowest man in the village as it were...
well:

who wouldn't have said:

     pleasure is not only unnecessary,
     but a positive evil

i too have had the pleasurable burden and agony
of being able to cite
maybe saying maybe not saying
either way experiencing:
i'd rather be mad than feel pleasure -
further still what of pleasure and happiness
as distinctly opposite or not:
re-imagines (i)
                         the recently digested divulging
on meanings
constricted to words like guilt
and shame...                   thus too:
happiness and guilt                           pleasure and shame.

this is not a shared experience,
this is why i don't write: or if i write i do out
of spare details in some variation
of leaving opening the gates of ditto
                        like so:    

                                           (thus).

australian visa assessment registration,
fee: i only learned of there being a fee
after i scrolled past each month
from the year 2024 back to 1986
to find may 15th in may

                    some "miraculous" date obscurity
like there is a need to celebrate
with song akin to Aud Lang Syne:
but there isn't cause for celebration

a very quiet formal affair of champagne
black forest gateau
                         roasted chicken and tatties
with some coleslaw to my astonished
improvement
not just mayonnaise but apple cider vinegar
to give the cabbage and onion
and carrot the added semi-pickled crunch
and some mustard and some mary-rose
sauce and some parsley
then before coffee was served
a shot of Polish bimber (moonshine)...
a sobering slob of a tongue slithering into
the shot glass before the guillotine
of knocking it back...

girlfriend future wife on Kauai (Ka Wa E)
woke me in the morning
finishing a shift in a restaurant cleaning
pots and pans: clamor of stainless clutter
a happy birthday song
i haven't heard since i was still a child...

sto lat sto lat niech yje nam niech

וה     (almost forgot that i still had the vah
stashed on my dashboard...)
to remedy the 'yje - from the clutches of RZ..

i.e. learning new words from Cambridge:
is used as an allographic variant of the letter Ż:
Ƶ is a handwritten form of the letter Xi (ξ

zeugma
allophone
allographic
polysemy

ʒ or subscript 3
partial beta-clause...

                         of Iraq and the ziggurats...
disappoints...
whatever your choices
there will always be pockets of
unabashed chaotic memory revelations
not caused by the calamity of
spontaneity
but life pushes on and through
to no greater measure of the worth
of living beyond the one already
testified with: as
the lived - to my amusement how living
is coupled to experiencing:

that there is talk of a lived-experience
like experience is a word less
harsh than existence:
out of every instance
the incapacity to hold a thought-narrative
that could be summoned intact
an intact-self the self-intact-ness

    -less is also a quality that can be
best summarized via
scrambled eggs without the yolk...
pale scrutiny of fats missing...

of Yemen and their zhoug...
like a variation on the Argentinian
chimichurri...
   because i believe that's where
said origins of the paste-blob that could
be used to spice up dull paintings
2nd best utilized prospectus...

or stay in one place like Gloucester Harbor
and count seagulls like
Charles Olson
                or perhaps like Kant
count footsteps toward the further away
point of mind the anchor
and thoughts the seas
sacrifices of adventure no further
than the vicinity of Königsberg at a 10 mile
stretch...

to now think from humble origins
to the deafening boom-echo vibration
of London under the arch of Wembley
to suppose i need to step a foot outside
the reality of sea and bring
the sky to the sunrise
and venture toward Polynesia

this Palagi...
Haole...                    at least in the category
of: us "vs" them or rather
                            us v                non-

leben sie wohl!
                   leben sie wohl!

ah: a day's interlude...
a working pattern...
start writing in the morning and afternoon
micro dosage of Putin Marijuana
i don't think i drank...
?
no... i didn't drink...
i micro dosed

on marijuana juan's mary...

            then got on with life
put on white shirts on in the PRALKA
like PRAVDA
PRALKA a word which i will allude to in a triangle...
i.e.

1st person
2nd person
3rd person

grammatically:

                                Matthew (2nd person,
                                      NOUN)





        ­      I                                                    He
(1st person,                                        (3rd person,
PRENOUN)                                             PRONOUN)

why do children from syllables
in Asia and continue
our ontological genesis is syllable bound
we only later much
later discover atoms and letters
#MAMA

MA MA
not Om and twice on the rhythm struck
boom boom boom
heartbeats of the cities of Glob Hades
we only come to letters after making
sounds in imitation and gratifying
other life...

GA GA of the tooth of mama
                        what are pre-nouns?
before man learns names of things:
rivers, objects...

there is no defining subjectivity of the hypothalmus
hippo experience:
existence out of every instance
of those reciprocating life
with due pardon: death is wait
death is wasted space
not time per se...
death is less time invoked as a waste of space
invigorated....

Martin aside: HE was a waste of space
even intellectually...
perhaps i don 't have a day job
but i have a dream world job
of writing for free to the attention of:

sobering note: ever watch 66 thousand people
walk past you so slow
like they did
at DC3 cordon on Olympic way
only one bazooka of cordon ON
with the megaphone ALARM
i can say alert with an accent to give
elert the -sch- it so ******* fatherly
desires... to originate myself in old germanic
working father germany
liberal daughter england
old saxony...

pre-noun is closest I
I who from giggles and laughter
and computer: say NO
NO
reading ****** expressions
knowing boa constricted ******
tension from good ***
and *** implosive
rather than *** explosive
i'd like to see a ***-implosive society
without annex:
nunnery in the bay area
of how internet is used:
a shop, an encyclopedia...

     dating app? shopping app?
pornographic adverts?
******* is like advertisement
in the real world...
people hyper focus off of one
like 0.5 of a person... anchor or bridge?
forgot whether this ship got stuck
in the middle of the river
and turned N/S
from its usual course of E/W
i.e. from east to west
but aeroplanes travel across the tropics
of Cancer: Edie
Capricorn: Promis...

the latter's words ring so true now:
don't try to save these women...
Linda is mother's reflexologist
Lydia is Edie's mum...
and Reyla is the "5th wheel apiece"...

i can finish this right now or waste my efforts
to "refill":
no... until the elbows hurt and the idea
of poetry becoming only cascade
prosaic:
rather if rambling poetry is like a newspaper
is like an escape from books
from prose tight sell-by-date-spacing...
poems don't sell
but books sell
and they sell not by a xthought
of +++digressions...

                            poems like easily discarded
paintings but better... trapped in time in memory
of individuals of individuals
off of individuals
off individuals
collective events like me returning
from Hawaii on the 7th October 2023
and a hell that came with me:

not as a direct result
but then again walk into a protest
march
and scribble any semitic letter on a flag
and chant your chants
and what do you expect...

but poetry can be more than an outlet of
confections and conditions
like some safe-space what with
Dante and Byron?!
is poetry something easily made to print
and not made to indent
on the tectonic plates of mind
this Earth Baron Vishily
and his Salt Mines of Power Bland...
some idea for a former book of science fact
look how the immediate explosion
of man's compa...

/kɒmpɑːtmɛnt(ə)lʌɪˈzeɪʃ(ə)n/

    (i had to look that spelling up...
does one word make me dtslexic? qwerty dyslexi
typo?                           ?)

the explosion of science came with the humanistic
explosion of science fiction...

second, soft scientific revolution
there was an industrial revolution

ergo the obvious for the common man...
but there was a scientific revolution
therefore there has been a
hard scientific revolution
with the chemistry and the physics...

now the soft scientific revolution
with the AI the engineering
and the psy-ops
soft machines and make-ups
and downers big big downers
of the ***** brigade
disillusioned somehow what?
somewhat, yes...

conversation with a DJ at a street party...
soft science that's all
counter productive ontological
first becomes a beginning
and outcomes a hierarchy of endings...
films like ghosts on inflamed vinyl
fireplace marshmallows
and burnt stars of Anise...
           that sweet hash of Morocco i am somewhat
new to you...
Europe is a museum
let us forget
all robots and stubborn farmers left:
new hygiene of ego like spider in a web
of truths and untruths
openly saying: what do you want?
unfair, what is: i thought life was rather generous:
the argument from nothing or off of nothing
god said and why not give humanity
all that i am
in all that's good and horrid and a torrent
of unabashed but never i usher my word
from the: but i needed man for my bureucracy:
byoo-row-ah-cra-c
                                sea­: see Baltic Sea...

/bjʊˈrɒkrəsi/

                       second dyslexic example...
life's complicated and sleep is heavy
with a cat nearby and
i am abusing whiskey and ****
and putting it to good use
imagining myself the street DJ
on the cordon at DC3 that Netflix doc
about bastion Wembley being town apart...

and this is life
my Neckari... a word from the dimension of
the prenoun...
MA                       AM GA
         AT TA          

                      much later much later the noun:

Matthew... could you?
who is Matthew?
this is Matthew?
oh and much much later there comes the narrator
I and then he should he wish realise
the 1st and 2nd and 3rd and his nth
terminology seek guidance when
trying to seek the world...

          I comes from nowhere rather than nothing...
not a rigid concept to be honest
enough scalpels in the air as it is...
"i am" Matthew to then abstract Matthew
as the countless number of them
and discriminate with there being only
one River Thames
but at least twice as many Londons...
regardless...
"i am" Matthew - m other said father said MATEO...

later much later when all the other nouns
started to sink in and become
vocabulary antics of:
            then once Matthew knew the air
the sky the moon the sun
the chair...
the cat...
          only when Matthew became Matthias bar Adam
did Matthew finally understand
a way to say: Matthews...

   i am "matthew"...
                                  only then and only thus...
then and only from then and there:
the idea of pronouns...
and trans-genderism and this "philosophy" of Silicon
coming from the guards at the Iron Curtain...
i've been woken up by tremors in
the Silicon Curtain and all that soft
talk technology like bio-tech is not the most
maneable...  ▽ ◼◼◼

                        maniable...

             what if one create a genre of AI
communication pretend Sauron?

a sample:

konrad eschlert
can you fathom a geo-political transition from the Iron Curtain to the Silicon Curtain give the Silicon Valley social media tech billionaires wanting to be part of the conversation, soft trans-humanism etc... i am drunk and writing a poem and this will be a sample in my creative endeavor

chatgpt
certainly, i can help explore that concept for your poem. here's a draft idea for your creative writing.

from the iron curtain to the Silicon
Veil,m a shift from cold steel to the soft
glow of screens, where once the shadows
loomed in brick and rail,
now algorithms whisper in digital
dreams.

Silicon Valley's titans rise, enshroud,
their networks weave a tapestry unseen,
in data's grip, the silent masses crowd,
new borders drawn in binary sheen.

trans-human whispers hum through
the wire, augmented selves in clouds,
begin to form, the billionaires,
like gods, our new desires, their coded
realms the eye of every storm.

yet, echoes of the iron curtain's past,
remind us of the cost of hidden walls,
in this brave new world, where shadows cast,
beware the veil where freedom slowly falls..

but there are AI limitations
on say: invoke smart phone Morse
or E. E. *******'s punctuation for
ol' 'am of D'A'S...
      lazily not hyphenated...

hats, rabbits and who was sitting in the rights
place...
   no subjective experience of...

TRANSRIPT

THE FRONTAL LOBE is for personality and emotions, higher thinking skills, like problem solving; and controlling movement. It continues to develop until you are in your mid 20s.
THE TEMPORAL LOBE helps process your hearing and other senses, and helps with language and reading.
THE PARIETAL LOBE is involved with your senses, attention, and language.
THE OCCIPITAL LOBE helps your eyes see, including recognition of shapes and colors.

which part of Martin is ****** up?

so much of what's the subjectivity of the brain
is simply a QUARTER of
what the reality of the brain is
name the eyes
and tongue
and skin and movement and so much of the brain
is something
quiet an experience unlike
a heart-attack
like a shaman drug trip sort of exhausting others
in how he can perceive himself
having an early retirmenet
in a care home freed from life's constraints
that might have been a kamikaze mission
if i were to conjure up a bonanza of quests of Q?

a poem a day keeps the psychiatrists away
but sure as **** invites a god
a word that's a god personality / medium
a devil
a cat several angels
and dead people and hmm hmm hmms
and botanical king the curious green
itch from brown below
to sieve through roots
and find enough sand to create a bridge
toward the kingdom of the snorkeling
apes from white Odysseus pale pale pale
by comparison
this kingdom from the sea not associated
with a north i'd sooner find upon waking
north to my left
and east ahead of me and
west behind me every time i travel into London...
much easier at the Firth of Forth
in Edinburgh
but so too there there was youth...
not the clamor of age and sensibility...

how to date this... hmm: perhaps with age:
38 on the 16th May 2024.

יה
        יש

           what if...        yashwesh? jachwach po polsu
po polsku... a jakby... niet(?)
                   because the name is surd riddled...
not necessarily yashwesh but
yashwa...                     he is YSHVH to me...

ישוה          

through this day brought the fetus
to the marble
and wondered why am i tired
of the living and all glory unto the dead
so silent they storm
the palace of sounds

me hallucinating being a DJ
on egress of the crowd
from Wembley Stadium
listening to Boris Brejha...
several times interrupted
woke up munching on 64% cocoa dark
Wedel chocolate and salt toasted
peanuts
the bear vs the man vs the bear-man
and the man-child like
the emblem of the patron saint
of applying for a driving license

apparently all cyclists are *******
self entitled morons of bruised
rubber and top-knots bits-and-bobs
of jack: jack says no: n.b. hyde
and Sherlock Hyphen Skylock Showlock
first time seeing the *** army
youths of the urban environment

Europe is a museum
Europe is a museum

only when the hordes recede and hide
and bleach and bleach
two generations down:
the future is bi-racial is not bi-lingual
the future is mixed-race
i wish it was bi-lingual
likez zee schwitz zee schwitz

Lombardy and Saxony
and the Swedish House of Vaza
that came with crystals and salt
to the thrones of kings of wormhood
in the klepsydra Hydra
sow self to no-self

the ingenious idea of mingling buddhism
with christianity in the 1960s
of the 20th century...
but buddha was not Nepalese
he was an Indian Prince...
just like Jesus was not a Jew
a Hasid
Jesus was a Syrian perhaps
Assyrian perhaps
Egyptian most definitely
the historian Josephus ben Matthias cites
a false prophet of Egypt
who stormed the mount of olives
returned bitter with false faces
and thorough the distraught architecture of Rome

stands intact...
why would the ancient world care so much
about the jews killing jesus
rather than Barabbas (bar abba)
not ben abba

   ben: son of
bar: of sons of fathers

bar abba

                     Matthias bar Abba
Mathayas

                 Mathayas

Mathayas

                             not Matisyahu

Mathayas

         YAS vs YAH

in english the H is a surd a vowel catcher
not CH or samo-HA
but silent... not hatch 'atch 'itch
y'

               in Greek and in Hebrew...
please... for me to see at least...
no... no Greek... confusion with G on the Y...
me thinking the new testament
is a Hebrew-Greek propaganda smear
campaign again Rome but
so much smackers and hit busters
and what do we call these canisters
on the side of the street
motorists fueling themselves with laughing
gas...

Mathayas: iota help center: diacritical stupendous
elongate the i
using the appropriate symbols
to avoid bringing a TAIL TO I TO J
TAIL TO I TO J
JAPAN = SATAN
JAPAN = SATAN

ah! now greek some hebrew but certainly
#katakana...
    
          Pacific Ocean learning curve...

make the i longer like a j not a j not dz i.e. jot
jet jungle dzungla
dzungla...

        ヤパン
         サタン

                                ease my nerves: so much for being
born, but yet there are still people
with little nerve: big waves short sea
in my dream of recent i was taking
photographs of tsunamis
of Miller's Planet

          in my dreams i am on Miller's Planet...
Second Eden of Mann
on the Black Sun Gargantua
if humanity is still alive we will
turn earth into Giedi Prime:
earth nocturnal us morphed into luminescent
semi sea creatures
since all land will disappear
and we will return to being oceanic mammals

the death-tomb splendor of the pyramids
to graffiti onto the air
and all manner of passing
a suggestion against the desert:
mountains once stood here
now winds demonstrate and water is also
dragged by air all around
as long as the theaters and opera houses
and clocks the size of wrists of the gods one eyed
that one eyed implying second eye
a perma... human presence in foil
and grid and scoop
a silence a one eyed no-body n00b
nowhere nothing the strict residue of freed
intellectual caving
unlike riding a bicycle or riding a horse
but this exoskeleton
sk not school not wool skool
the youth and their rigid question-dyslexia...
but i hold not allegiance to England
and i can see England as i:

i once dreamed of travelling to India
and walking across the Islamic world
back to England...
God intervened...
India and the Islamic world
came to England...
now i'm either to leave England
to Australia New Zealand Hawaii...
but i'm not...
this garden a ship on the sea of carnage
seeking mouth of the river Styx
toward the land of Hades toward some thrill
of... what do we truly leave behind?

money, as concept i do not know...
money is also a saying:
better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven
flip of a coin
why is money two-faced
Mammon the 1st and Mammon the 2nd...
money is two faced...
the one eyed god invoked on one face
and the regal human on the flip face ordeal
that the moon must
drink up one ocean and **** it out
in another while also being the bartender
for penguins on Antarctica...

toward the second waking of lost earth
abandoned desert of these brats' spoiled riches
in conjuring rain
onto the deserts
like the Soviets conjured glorious
sunny weather on day rememberence
having conquered nations in germany
no thought of the re-emergent tsar nicholas
nevetcky -
               bald, scalp of Berlin....

my own mythos at stake, my own nightmares
will not be owned by others
i will reign (over) my nightmares
and call them heightened abodes
                                 google: peace-keeping
pacemakers backgammon is a **** game
only made fun on the attack
but then the luck of the draw
makes this game anti-strategic
and chess is no o-era P i.e. chess is ****
and chess is anti-intellectual
because chess is nakedness robotic
humanized in Dune's Mentats...
semi-gay quadrants of associating the tetragrammaton
to a god with four faces
the primitive allure of Islamic one one one one
this pseudo drone narrative
translated out of Arabic is a threat
and not welcome...

because intact and -ness and integrity
Judaism is not a social club
but Islam is dying a death unseen
by seeing a proselyte branch of Semi-Sufi
Soothe E           e         e         e       e       ease...
's plural missing
also not possessive: but can be...
Paul's... the chair the chair's crooked posture
in van Gogh Gohg Gogh's eye(s) zzzzzz no snooze...

chairs stacked up up and into spiderwebs of
breaking the impenetrable foliage of
comparative literature of how far the eye can see
through a pine forest of Europe
an oak forest of England
or across the horizon melt
the non-event horizon standing on the shore
of Kauai looking at the sky and the Pacific

the sky and the Atlantic are different...
more amassing of the receding
earth into the sea... what emerged as man
so forever and our Prometheus gene
to continue until the sun becomes a black
hole: our ambition...
to purge by no calamity: certain as we are
to follow the Route of House Aquarius Harkonnen
to the naked flesh devoid of sun
or tan this albino monstrosity of liquid and
pseudo-muscular tensions
these hybrid tongue-masquerade-gherkin phallus
****** brain miasmas... fried high DSL chiral...
brain mantras instead of
brain realities
brain mantras brain mantras people's
literacy skills a facade of ancient lore
of priests
now all exposed to literacy and...
like the advent of the internet
the advent of mass literacy was a failure...
when it happened or why is rather mysterious
to get rid of useful codependents
the useful friendly codependents
of the illiterate class
that could also somehow burden themselves
with hyper-status in numeracy...
i have known several dyslexic folk who were
hyper numeratic... erratic with the use of numbers
to their advantage...

**** with letters but good with numbers
and not the sort of mathematics
that is borderline language
like algebra and physics and chemistry...
but the sort of language
of numbers that's economics and medicine
and crowd control and recognizing ****** expressions
when someone is lying
and not playing a game of poker...

there was a time when and there was a time where,
could space be given the same
"whereabouts" and roundabouts
            those traffic no-about everything... i think

       ?

                               ?          i think to ask a question

or i think to exclaim in a silent eureka of:
i am here!                    i was there!
this memory-eureka of consciousness
without that protractor of: i've found it
but rather:                               i am

   !                 ergo                   astounded...

i am tempted to buy Francis Bacon's
     drunken sorry note replies compiled by michael
peppiatt...
  then i'm not too sure
since i was tempted by Witold Gombrowicz's
  Kronos, similar but not quite, quite similar...

scribble scribble: best effort of a writer to imitate
painting a doodle lap-lap train wreck
damsel in distress some Hitchcock... alabaster blonde
fêmme fatale (f'ah t-pat-al)
               the shortening of the A unlike
anything <scribble scribble>

                     i remember those two summer ago
getting drunk and cycling not spotting a *** hole
flamboyant acrobat onto the tarmac head
first face tattoo of blood and scab second

then at the London Stadium
heat and porous artifacts
books unlike bricks
but then what is a library if not a building
within a building...
books = bricks
                        some hack of reading enough
will create a supra-architecture of deconstructed ego
or the variation of ego as spider and
thoughts as flies
            
or                     or... watch this space for adequate
spacing...   especially now
this allowance for all the forest and none of
the journalistic monopoly on what's printed...

sinking in... the printing revolution without actual
print...
i'm still settling in, choosing not to glorify
any romanticism associated with writing
poor Alexander Dumas and his arthritis of having
written so much with one hand
must have decapitated his head
to ease up the strain on the writing hand
and so many typos a sea of typos rivers of typos
unlike now...

but whenever i used to sip a whiskey
and smoke and only after i watered the flowers
i planted in the garden late in the evening
on a late May evening come 9pm it could still
be regarded as evening rather than night
i'd contemplate Dune and
think: no moisture in the air
but surely for winds to exist there must be moisture
a planet with no moisutre
is also a planet without the winds...

little meditation aid: no help...
recently i've picked up clues as to a new writing
patterns... all Eden serpentine
of writing while propping myself on my elbows
will only cut the blind QWERTY know-abouts
of letters on a keyboard
like i'm a musician...
now sliding from the bed and kneeling
before it to ease on the strain on the elbows
and revel in:

when it comes to books and movies...
and... an orthodox priest of the convent of the one book
cult...
i have been robbed of reading the Lord of the Rings
for over 20 years...
but i've started to rediscover the antidote to
terribly bad music of the current exhaustion
of celeb culture and the privacy imposed
by gimmick status without statues of men
who accomplished the bare minimum...

i am moving away from music and instead listening
to the elements...
the elements as:
the rumbling of the earth,
the sound of the winds,
the sound of a fireplace...
the sound of water as waves
the sound of water as raindrops falling on a tin roof,
i need to find 10h+ of the winds moving
through a pine wood...
i haven't written this freely for some time...
a 3 year a 18 body (also years, although morphed,
given our age difference)
hiatus "hiatus"...

  who is to say i don't appreciate the maximus poems
by Olson like an appreciation for cubism
for post-modern poetry is also a footnote
in what began as an obsession with Ezra Pud
because no ounce to the pound or
that liter of water as an hour of fire
is equivalent to the oily worm bits of momentum
of electron ******* magnet
not gravity if gravity is then
sooner in binding of metal in a microscope
but what is the eye if not
a microscope and a telescope and a periscope
and the underwater demons of eggs and glitches     (?)

i will reclaim my need to read the Lord of the Rings
using the audio book,
i will reclaim the book and enjoy it once
and for all by falling asleep to the audio
and how much of what was written is almost precursor
and no adventure and no cinema
no quickened false step left to imagining
and reimagining
and to think there is so much of so little
within the confines of being the digesting sense-body
but then isolating or rather adhering to
the sense-***** of the eye:
the heart too a sense-*****:
on the whim of every emotion...

i have never experienced such an amicable
break-up...
i have never experienced such an amicable break-up...

that the eye can be isolated better than
the brain
and that the brain is no more than a schematic
of counter lessons and revisions
and whoever has the most sway innovative
for rhetorical structures of keeping
faces intact and **** warm and ******* the potentially
only, only clue as to why life is worth living
because between me and you
a tree or a mountain will not read these words
nor will an omni litany of a deity
inspect with her and his C.C.T.V. Huginn & Muninn..

although chances are in the singularity of fate
by count: enough chances of the same creates
a potency of fate and if no will then at least
a dream of: sacrificing ordeals for perchance ashes
of benevolent circumstances...
an aging process... of simplified mortal quenches
calmed... like the non-associative demand
for thirst to also be a bitterness of taste:
but since water is tasteless there can be no bitterness
associated with thirst
yet bite a grapefruit and you receive
bitterness and a quenching of thirst

but thirst is not bitterness nor is it sweetness
but prolong the thirst and chances are
you might associate thirst with bitterness or sweetness
or drink water fused with having
to make-out flour to, say, thicken a sauce you're
cooking...
impress that water and flour with
a fermentation process and...         oh and...

but i will reclaim the Lord of the Rings
by listening to the audio book since the movie captivated
me akin to Captain Rob Roy Spychala
who went to the cinema to see Bruce Lee's
Enter the Dragon like 30 times
while i went to the screening in the early
2000s like 10 times...

                  cGh physics...
                         as much as is concentrated upon
a c²              (squaring, non-linear)
      yet depicting linear travel...
i'm more concerned with the stars as static
in that travel is made impossible between them...
therefore no necessarily associating energy
and mass with the speed of light, squared: traveled...
but rather the speed of light: cubed...
static...
                 C³                       bit conker of a plocker
somewhere lost on any vicinity associated
with Pecking Ham and fools and horses and what's
to be left with 50 years of ancient, televised lingo...

theory plays itself out
from a distance
a tree walks
towards me
brim flicked
exhausted
          grinning
                  smoking
within inch of meeting
he has been flying and

my pink skirt skips
a beat to meet him
flame-like
swirl-like
matches
ti leaf twists

I drink sap
acrid and sweet
take small bites
leave marks
to match scars
carved into bark
and shining shoulder

where his fragility shelters
in my airborne hemline
anchors fabric down
to fragrant ground of

wirey connections
bearded chin grooves
soulpatch blonde tinged
in glowing moonlight
i press my cheek to his
welcome him home



what the fish thinks...

she hasnt swum so deep in centuries
philosophies of gills glittering
wander starlike flowerlike
through autumn

spring has come
rejuvenates dead
coral gardens

"it's real..." she quivers
gills gasp and expand
oxygen through
her silver body
dapple-lit
she wonders
calmly

and, if a fish could breathe
in Essex salts and Polish skin
she would breathe him in
absorb him in ways
she never thought
she needed



Continuing...

i haven't had a visit from someone
quite like this

sure i've had family and friends
kid sleepovers and barbeques
potlucks and gatherings
bearing gifts and pupus

but this
this is different
this is a visit from a friend
with intention

no  "how are you(s)"
we past that long ago
no  “Are you hungry”
we already know we are
starving

just silent query of
edge smiling study
accompanied by a shake of head
equivalent to tail wagging
and, ohhh, how i like that

i liken it to a yellow vase
watching seven rocks
eclipsed by a morning

seven sunsets
digit multiples

© on Nov 16 2023 09:42 PM PST, Epsileta Wolonskaya

p.s. if it were truly copyrighted...
"©"... you wouldn't or shouldn't be able
to simply ctrl+c and then ctrl+p
from page to page...
html code would require you to retype it...
you couldn't control and paste it...
if it were truly copyrighted...
that's how the meaning of html and law
should be understood...

    yours sincerely, a Kierkegaard Bachelor.

microcosm at the end of the garden,
micro-dosing whiskey and a joints:
tobacco and green anger
the one to subdue in the pockets
of anxiety attacks -
that can be channeled into a focus -
all those people on chemo anxiety blockers
at least with the green anger
and the fire water managed to intellectualise
in focus - equivalent to:
painting - if done by solo venture of scribble
scrabble 'n' 'sum                  ... threat of violins
falling and slicing in the rain (demonic)
slicing water and sound and the sound of
water and the sound of fire
and the sound of air and the sound of the hearth...
nights
days
nights
days i spent listening to the four orchestras
of the elements: water had waves
of the sea and the skies of the seas falling
as rain... the grand kidney of god that is this earth
god is filtering equivalent to men censoring
each other other...
      Edie will love another, Edyta will love another
but the whole legality business visas
H-1B plenty of unskilled security men out there
so 1 - 0 to the locals...
          marriage visa? now thanks to Martin's judgement
i will sooner inherit my grandmother's apartment
with a glorious view of a cemetery....
from the balcony... and then this house in essex
this little island of abode brooding...
in exchange for a life on Kauai?
her doubts her words her disqualification of self
that she's 18 years apart in bodies...
we are 18 bodies apart... aparts... a partitioning of sigma
the splitting of the soul not by ******
but under the guise of the many loving expressions...
i have lived a life since September 2023
when i traveled to the island of Kauai to meet
a girl for the first time since i talked to her mother...
i was also looking for a transcendental father...
a father of transcendentalism: no, so no, not my mythological
father - yes: because i am currently living
with my biological father and mother and by extension
the Elephant Phantom Martin and my grandmother...
so elaborate:
from September 2023 on a writing hiatus...
brought them back Edie and Reyla to London and Reyla
****** me off for not wanting to go and see
the Phantom of the Opera...
now in the background a Hanz Zimmer crescendo from
the Dune soundtrack...
                mini puncture and now by marriage...
to say: by the duty of the wedded this monstrous wound
of tongues licking eyes and gently using like worms into
their last state of being veins of the sclera...
                  a text from my nigerian next door neighbor...
lived for 3 years like that like
no woman no cry
                             like that 3 years known to me casual
formal...
only a few days earlier
been smoking and drinking on the roof overlooking
the garden
talking poetry and not talking poetry Ayo Ayo Ayo texting
me now... i waffled back to him that he cought
me in the middle of this composition this new groove established
in infected and mushroom cancer in the brain
we are born with a brain fungus
a dormant brain fungus
what is a parasite a cancer on a tree if not the evergreen mistletoe
dormant fungus... brain... typing listening to music
text from next door neighbor thinking that Edie
will love again can love again loved in the past
we are 18 bodies apart
                                  and so so just a one sided communication
a barrier... the butterfly to caterpillar transition
of... none other expected than a St and a Martin
the ghoul the phantom the missing...
             the ego in the ego the self without self
the id so...
                                  primitive man of pre-haunt of death
most apparent to self and the shadow upon the curtain...
a talk with self most relevant now:
re-imagining what a good chromebook keyboard would
feel like so protruding like an old nokia
and the burners
and what my poetry would be like without Edie and to find
resolve i will have to reply: do you want me to stop writing
forever? because that's what you would have
to destroy... my mother could think that you killed her brother
because you came and i didn't go to visit martin
when grandmother was slowly killing him
you heard me you saw me over the phone
you heard when you heard me hear the message...
could you have said? can you come with me to Poland
blah blah...
i don't know... but blood is blood and blood is blood
and what's bothering me is family
but in the end my mother blames my grandmother
but i also thought about being blamed
and who isn't to blame but Martin himself and i wonder
how happy he is now that he has gone toward
the ******* land of la li lo le ole and lulu or lullaby
because i'm thinking about alcoholism as a zombie taboo
crawling and ******* and frolicking in open wounded
vowels like o cut up to u
or i used for a hyphen and a dot to punctuate better
to say a being stitched up to e to make
the Adam and Eve monstrosity of Eden
found in the Latin script... dated: some literary ******
just remembered that he used to write and so does...
there were nights filled with fire
there were nights filled with thoughts of women
there were nights filled with fuckless women nights
there were nights within nights
there was chaos in order and order in chaos
there was a dualism and a schizophrenia
there was certainly god and madness
and i was so almost killed by a friend of mine from
high school a Samir... in Canterbury...
try this other than **** spice
this Chilean spice...
SALVIA will make you see elephants
and you riding elephants quickened hallucinations
so smoked **** then toked the miracle...
turns out my face slid to one side and i slouched
into a dying fetal position...
them giggling... until seriousness took over and they
realized that i was not going to die...
my impressions of a death party...
death parties exist... i suppose in dark web lingo
a death party involves
at least 3 people...
           2 people plan a ****** of someone by poisoning
subtle: not like the case of brianna ****...
scarlett jenkinson and eddie ratcliffe organised a death
party... samir and mr jivandoo organised a death
party by poisoning...
              to their horror and my own i am alive aged 38
should have been dead aged 21
should have...
there were years in my calendar when writing
that i would drink a liter of whiskey a night...
i would drink a liter of whiskey a night
i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night i would drink a liter of whiskey a night

what killed martin a bad death of still being alive?
beer... manslaughter by grandmother?
is it in her to be able to **** both husband and son
because they were alcoholics?
genuine questions... interlude for a cigarette and
an auf wiedersehen (oꟻF vderzeen)

ꟻ: ah... remember to find Adam and Eve
in the letters... diphthong... doip doip doup dupe dulla loop
oop                              poo             sssssss
                                                        s­ss
                                                   ssss
                                                        ssss­s
                                                     ss

    s
   s  s                        5S5S5S5S5S5S
       did numbers really originate from the Raj and
thanks be to the Arabs for our modern numbers?!
b6b6b6
                  1I1I1I
                       ­                                3E3E3E
9P9P9P
                                       O0O0O0
             7 Γ7 Γ7 Γ
                                     B8B8B8
          2Z2Z2Z
                                         ­        4G4G4GQ

Q! Q! Q1 Q1 not G... i.e. 4Q

                    (    )               (     )

                                 A

                       ___


(&)                    (&)

               L

      __

  the Doppelganger Series of Portraits
noses will be letters
the mouth will always be the flat-line of expression
status poker quo

            ($)                    ($)

                    ­      I

                  __

         (£                                 hmm...

no... I looks good...

              (#)                   (#)

                           Y

                   __

                              (Beelzebub... hashtag eyes)....
song switched to type o negative's
christian woman... but i quickly have to switch
to the recent taylor swift song i heard today...
tortured poets department...
typewriter?
                    like a tattooed labrador...
lebrador labradoor
chelsea hoes?
                            labaradorable...
              ­           no ******* body ooh what a sweet
sing along...
  smoke and bears and chocolate bars
smoking and golden retriever?
                                           cyclone of dehydration(s)
this mouth this wake up 8am with summer...

indeed... the poem has exhausted itself
         with god-flow of needing to take a **** -
switching to the memory of Jemminah
and homemade wine and foster the people six next to me...
or this is this is...
                    this is a slowly pealed grape...
                                       this is a reflection on slowly peeling
a single grape...
the unusual request to return to a former writing habit
or habit of the mind to spend an hour
elsewhere... with one's own to one's own sense of self...
and all the Wembley folks in security were hush hush
and bothered about the Netflix documentary
thinking there would be a story against the security teams
if any...
       or rather to hear first rate accounts journalists would swarm
the site post Euro Finals 2021 and ask us about any details
well the film itself became more a documentary for
anti racism...
                     it was the most comprehensive and positive
lesson in  adhering to an anti racism focus...
         i was expecting that...
the security personnel were actually praised... and there was
a sense of empathy....
   i recognized one face in the documentary:
Lee, the son of the owner of Achilleus Security who's
name is not Ralph not Romeo but probably Ricci...
           Italian connections if i were not mistaken...
                       ooze.... hit the snooze before bed
go down smoke dip mouth in some whiskers and beddie beddie
bye bye.

i want to write i don't write i'll write anyway,
luxurious escapades of the tongue
crafted to make suitor letters and somewhere
a diligent me takes care to be
a...
                ah blah blah...

     from hearing the offensive god
and somehow a somewhat off nothing that's
similar...

the sweet scented air of Poland come the onslaught
of May, Spring...
that recollects both magnolias
and bez (without): bzu - lilac...
         bzdura: nonsense...

20 years ago there was this massive expansion
of the European Union...
10 new lands giggled at the expansionary
vision... lackluster because
withholding only a few retained
the monetary communication
of shared investments...

the Czechs still have their coronas
and the Poles still have their gold standard...
but together is the best kept apart...
weltsprechen...

exhausted by the racial hyper-focus
of the likes of Krista Franklin...
because i'm tired of the Afro-American narrative
that brings no one together...
like fathoming the force-feeding of turkeys
before any feast day...
not pouting a sense of critique: not necessary...
but i'm just tired of
people supposedly not getting along...
some vague aloofness some:

a stranger in a familiar land...
i spent so much of my youth among graves
that i've come full blown "circle"
to seeing people as graves...
perhaps if there was as much rigor in me
to drink later after having written..
no writer in me ever to be born...
a good excuse to not watch the t.v.
and and tiredness from adverts
and all that K-POP boom boom...

i could perhaps understand dancing before the pyramids
like it would be a wholesome hope
for... instance... one two three...
mirage of the dictated life
then the non-dictated life
and now this is not me with some
J. K. K. Tolkien ambitions...
no ambition to riddle my efforts with
escapism to tow and tug at fiction...

laptop positioned on a washing machine...
give me the well earned wages of loitering
but not anything associated with
post-literature political of a Harry Potter scoop...
verbiage and misnomers
some feeding ground of peckers and
lazy sleuths... dropping words missed in
casual conversation...

            arbiters of writing escapades
and truths-saying and soothing humming...
by the ordeal of giving love from a heart
like squeezing water from a stone...
perhaps... somewhat hallucinogenic in purpose
or rather escaping with words
that govern and sooth any ordeal
that does not necessarily have to be written about...

grandmother's fetish for Harlequin novellas
because the way she loved supposedly "loved"
my grandfather...
how two men in her abiding: blame who?
seemingly died from malnutrition
because she was so dissolved
this happy feminist junction of happenstance
luckily i am a man with a fetish for
German (tongue) and the ability to cook...

find me: chasing chickens on the village-island
of Kauai...

in those 2 years, imagine... i've travelled
a river's worth a sea's breadth...
yet he with his earnings
grossing an estimate 1 million
became the conclusive
waste of fiddling with possibility: per chance
wasted....

       how he spent those last days listening
to terribly angry music...
i can understand friendless isolation...
i succumbed to listening to music
akin to:

the titans, the elements...
the sound of rain falling on a tin roof...
rhapsody of imitation: knock knock... knock knock...
then the sea waves...
then the air turned into a wind
whirling...
then the earth rumbling... i too ate hunger
and felt a grumbling "inhibition"...
then the sound of the crackling of
breaking of wood in fire....
music devoid / detached from the progeny
of the usage of words...

of(f)...                    terminology of the posit
of "things" to begin with, to end with:
on note...
           my little Nuremberg extravaganza...
no **** poor soul in sight...
but all this weight and height
and all this this... miasma... myopia...
this borrowing of inherited stink
like all the ******* have all the good brown
while all the whites have this *******
sickly sweet albino blah!

     **** the covert tattoos
living among us alias "us"...
             i'm more bored than tired...
then again i'm also bored and tired
and it's under not disguise of "inhibition"
that i get to...               digest these fundamental
loathsome truths of a nocturnal Babylon.