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Renee Danielle Nov 2015
1997
the roots of my family tree
are shallow and malnourished,
breaking through the Earth's skin as a reminder
that it cannot always keep the ugly
hidden underneath.
my DNA is a life sentence for a crime
I never wanted to commit.

1999
my father called my brother a king
before he even left the womb.
a solar eclipse that has lasted years
because of my inability to escape his shadow;
though, I'm not sure I ever will.
the world will always be his stage,
and I, just a poorly constructed backdrop.

2005
my skin has turned
black and blue back into flesh.
I hope, one day,
my mind takes a lesson from my body
and learns how to forget you.

2011
they call him the all merciful god,
and I can't help but to laugh,
because the only thing he promised
to those who hurt me was forgiveness.
I prayed up until the day
god changed his phone number.
atheism is a learned behavior;
I only wonder when god stopped
believing in me.

2015
I live my life in reverse.
I drink coffee at midnight,
read the epilogues first,
go to bed in the morning.
I spent my childhood in this grave,
now it is time to dig myself out.
Francie Lynch Feb 2015
The coffee *** just signalled, Ready,
So I pour the cream before the java:
A cup of divergent thinking.
There are roads running
In opposite directions,
Sharing points of similarity:
A tree, a sign, me.
Inside or outside the box of thinking,
Using the lower and upper ladder rungs
To paint the same wall,
Prologues and epilogues to the same story,
Lawyers in clown suits,
Children using,
Kittens chewing slippers,
Dogs in litter boxes,
Earth cooling,
Healing and feeding the masses,
Elected monarchies... NO monarchies,
Sleeping in or getting up,
Cursory letter to family and friends
(Though this is coming to an end),
Making love while wearing gloves,
The moon moves east to west
In the blink of sleep,
Churches giving alms and unlocking doors,
Schools excelling,
Parents attending.
To juxtapose is divergent,
Like sobering up with detergent
(You may be clean, but are you dry?).

If insurgents were divergent,
We'd have more convergence.
Glenn McCrary Jan 2012
Epilogues of skinheads amuse the ******







Eclipsed by innuendos of hatred







Vigilant they tread in sovereign flocks







By way of death they will strip us naked







In our absence zany remarks surface



Hidden by indefinite philosophies



Foolish they swarm the emerald candles



Worshiping the fathers of hypocrisy





Conquer or perish we must



To survive humanity's wrath



Lend a hand Glasgow would not



Distraught we sought immune paths





Honor us by opulent memories





Waste not our exuberant energy









© 2011 (All rights reserved)
People still ask me about you as if you were a standard operating procedure.

People still don't get it.
People still say; it's better to have loved and lost
than to have--

What people don't seem to understand is that I don't dig epilogues,
I don't speak with punctuation, I don't end with period. and I don't capitalize.

Because tonight
I'll sleep with a pillow softer than your self-consciousness

and even though I don't speak in redundancies, allow me to repeat myself
'cause I know you're not takin' notes
'cause you're the type of person who likes to hang on a moment
and own it
but do me just one favor
in this minute minute, please
realize
that you've got too many easels
and not enough paint
and self-expression is moot if the canvas is blank.

Tonight!
I'll sleep on my good side

so that tomorrow when people ask me about you as if I have a degree in your ology
at least i'll look well-rested when I tell them
that I used to cry when i wrote you letters
and how I used to write for you
and how in my head I STILL paint renaissance paintings of you
and how they hang in this cranium like a sixteenth century mausoleum

because genius is driven by affection

and affection knows
that we were born with more voices than our mouths could house
and so some of them got swallowed.

But genius -- genius knows nothing.
Genius knows that we do things with our mouths sometimes,
like when we kiss or cough or collaborate.

Thus genius is driven by affection
and affection made you my muse.

So please listen to the words of a man who knows where his voice has been;

if you were made of construction paper
and a few shades red-er
I'd glue love to you
l-o-v-e, spelled out in pasta pieces,
sprinkled in the glitter of hugs and kisses,
I'd hold you lovingly in my hands and give you--

to somebody else.



xoxo
Time binds us
tightly with red silken ribbons,
woeful reminders of
our naked mortality,
acting as string tied
round fingers to remember,
even if we want to erase minds
and forget our deadlines.

We are not gowned to our toes
in the golden gleam of forever,
one period upcoming
in our lives,
hopefully a fair distance
from present skies.

Our epilogues will be written
for us by fate
and death combined,
achieving a certainty
we have known since thigh-high.
Kyle Dal Santo Oct 2017
“I’m sorry I called you that. No, I wasn’t thinking about him, stop over thinking it, it’s not all about you!”

2. “Stop it! You’re stretching me out! Yes, I said, ‘get angry’, but not that angry!”

3. “I was caught up in the moment, things got weird… what do you want me to do, apologize?”

4. “Oh ****! You need to go, my husband’s coming home!”

5. “Okay, so now that we got that out of the way, I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I mean, the *** is great, but you’re just not that stable… yeah, that’s why I did it, I thought you were cheating too.”

6. {Laughter}

7. {Silence}

8. “Are you done?”

9. “Well at least that wasn’t weird. No, it’s not that you, I just, you know, heard things. I know I asked you to do it, but I didn’t mean it, that was just ***** talk.”

10. “I love you.”
Kyle Dee
DieingEmbers Apr 2013
Imprisoned thoughts finding freedom
within the damaged mind
mind not what they say
nor how they say it
speaking clearly with hijacked tongue
tongue tied and muted
fear gives new voice to old words
words hasterly spoken
drawn back
upon the lips like an unstrung bow
piercing retorts
and sharpened interlect
rend away the facade of common descency
allowing profanity space to breath
rank rancid epilogues becoming epitaphs
upon a soul trapped
within the confines of anothers understanding
of morality
long dead arisen the medicated zombie wakens
and a new day dawns
follow not the path of the poet when his words
are not his to command
and yet they command your respect and your derision
TC Oct 2013
she rambled through midnight,
shoes more white-tar *****
than black leather,

avoiding destinations,
washed palms
not unfamiliar with
stakes being grounded
near the wrong type of hearth.

standing half-drunk,
on scorched oxygen epilogues,
her cheeks deserted,
feet knuckling homeward,

wrists unveiled by calamities,
she’d pour shrapnel
into her scrapes,
wrongs cast in iron,

and
he would trace
her scars like
a roadmap,
but always left
by morning—

twilight strangers
in a cold, perfect sunset.
freckles holy,
lights heady,
moon painfully
indifferent.
Vernarth's term overage was not exhaustive, as Vernarth would return to Alikantus after his journey to Kanthillana for the Winter Solstice and Patmos in spring. He was collecting each time in the decantation of each corollary of texts, images, narrations, and epigraphs that were being deliberately written on the flames of the Apokálypsis. All the experiences of the tragic characters in Vernarth were embedded in the papyrological Datum once it was detached from the Dragon's snout. This result and action verse became the reconstruction of the cessation of a physical body, whose final living objective was to legitimize everything in which it was uniting in the nomenclature of written prosopography, advanced in all the roles of the ruler of their own history. parapsychological incorporated in its own self-analysis until reaching Everism that reconciles its mythology as something secondary to the Tragedy for all societies that evolve in a focused technocratic aspect and the rhetorical unsaying of attacking the world that was destroyed under a redoubled dose of anesthesia of the disgruntled ideological of being judged by the entire world as a being spawned in the papyrology of Pergamon in ruins. The visibility of him as an actor drags her with the vision of him asleep under hypnosis that allows him to combine the periods of antiquity more than six thousand years ago. C. allowing him to build a person from low to high visibility in a consequence where totalitarianism was exclusive to a millenary East, in pursuit of a nascent South America suffering from the birth of itself from the geological split 120 or 150 million years ago that did not they would be enough to bring about the consequences of Spílaiaus when he allows, hears and tells me to give him the world that only he had been chosen to live in.

Vernarth welcomes and obeys his command to divide N times as a normal body could run and fall into this current maelstrom that would take him throughout Greece, Judea, Central, and Eastern Europe, from a place of origin called Kanthillana which resists the intermodal phenomenon of quantum that would overwhelm him to the point where his entire genealogy would follow him wherever he went if need be. All this was mending and composing itself in those alternating impurities of some paradigm, reinstating the constitution of the random present of Greek mythology already alive in the blood that unites the same rivers that are born of a narrator, always disposed of in the eminence of inspiration either in Olympos, Profitis, Ophel, Kantillana or any tomb that constitutes the format of electric actual mobility where it distills rapidly at the speed of emotions that will always be directed by gods who feel it before they are received by a distant reader. The elaboration design of the works is spaced from the hand of the argument that sometimes tries to hold on to the runaway reins since they are commanded by real emotions provided by unknown forces, generating a great collision and incomprehensible data header for an eye or ear human that needs the neat pause to attend to the discretions that are intertwined and accelerate with solidified sources of extemporaneous mythology diverging from prosopography components of Literature Heritages Sites.

The chattering of the monuments will be of great superiority as an addition to the compiled history never told or narrated where it intertwines with two dissimilar, dissonant geographical zones, distant in such a way that they themselves react to a thunder of life, which makes up those zones that are individualized and inanimate as sources of multidimensional fervor, causing high-sounding narrative imbalances that at times were made as a great source of the power of what makes sense or what could mean at times that could continue progressing in the potential wealth of beings that were never geographically rooted in a system of use or group accent that could be immersed in the biography of that which has never been told, since there is no record. The information that is unknown could not be collected as well as a concept that survives the networks of a shipwreck of the passing of the centuries that run between even and odd centuries of today in the antiquity of the Middle Ages, however, all this traceability leaves us in micro spaces that are not perceptible, nor in the incorporation of chronicles that can be driven by the linear ordering method. Vernarth is in itself a precipitous advance, a quantum of dissimilar interests of civilizations that survive and will survive from where they were forged, perhaps integrating the second face of a life that manages to detach itself from the vital circle, to experiment with its canceled free will and redirect its life. revived canons of a new nuance that concelebrates within the face of an unknown character of prosopography; to the same one who imposes the laws of everything he should for each own individual having the opportune world of him that receives him lavishly.

After the seventh century, the phenomena of the Mediterranean between what simply promotes a turn of the page leaves the hemisphere of each empire more distant from the social phenomena that distinguish us once the stumble of generations cannot count what is not could mend in the subsequent generation. This is why Vernarth's hybrid containing allows you to travel between immemorial times, allowing you to store them and tolerate periods that do not fit the scale of all their wills deployed towards an administration that manages to revitalize their monuments and ally them with other geographical areas that could not strictly speak of the same contemporary, having taken more advantage of them. Such efforts would make a great providence and closeness of all the garments that represented suitable characters who are still looking in their wasteland for the true chronological process that should fit their conditions. Vernarth is a great enlargement of prosopography that he has or ambitions excessively, and that may heavenly tempt him to build vaults that can fit the figure of himself equivalent, of the libertine whims that could stipulate the crosses of the early and late periods, eager and differentiated for everything that could fit in a bunch of flowers like a bunch of verses that would be destined for the available that waits to be presented from the incorrupt mound of Olympus with the chain of being repeatedly presented in the Kanthillana before the god Spilaiaus.

The tool will allow the reconstruction of each elapsed period of time, which is exactly what the submithology intends, to return to live with the villagers who tend to trace their lines of traditions, customs, and much-needed etymology to revive the peripheral description where some manage to to be protagonists, leaving aside those who should be participants in silent actors that intends to expand the euphemism that is only revived in the courts of the emperor that is not even established in an ironclad draconian family monograph, as could be seen with the vast majority of the descendants of the Merovingians. The portrait tends to allocate budgets from the treasury of who should be the budget of the vast majority of true Labrador Hoplites as true ascendants of the great hidden treasure that will provide the eloquent looks of Medousa. This is how much of the vindication of cinnabar must have been established as a burial of many individuals from the Middle Ages in the vast majority of Europe to daub the bodies in sulfur or Cinnabar to try to keep them in the underworld with their entire body in linen shrouds or substitutes, and how to preserve or how to return to an organic chemical environment from which was the union of two beings when they engendered a being by the chemical explosion of a body in the autonomous cycle of procreation. Linguistic guidelines will undoubtedly make the entire Middle Ages the creation of a symbol of faith entrenched in unionized social spheres, made up of guilds of families that were never registered in a regime or corporation to supplement the lack of the Datum that in this work is It aims to decorate, uniting all classes, latitudes, and sectors that could well deserve complete the spaces that should have been executed by intercontinental clans, offering them a history that is part of their emblematic ancestor.

I would dare to name the Hoplithography, as the archaeological social fabric forging the question that establishes the Hoplites as sowing cultures of the significance of their prosopon of military body, contemplating further than all the nations of a way of life that probably would have been perhaps univocal to a pious being of the science that surrounds him, with the loneliness of a being that does not admit that he is overcome by science that submits to autonomous man such as Diogenes of Sinope or Archimedes who join an axial connection in the evidence of the senses, but in the Solstice of Sinope 412 a. C. specifically in the efforts of Vernarth to make them participate that the free man belonged to a Don who was more removed from his gaps of mistakes or successes since the free man was going to be imprisoned in the urn that joins him to his body and not to the illusion of your senses. The gates of truth or otherwise are just a few steps away from this Vernarth Tragedy that asks for a little hint of space-time movement. All the paradoxes that linear time will persevere in great calculation errors that could be an Aporia as speculative logic, followed by the fiction that exceeds reality where the paradoxes will be unresolved inconsistencies, essentially with what untimely arises from an indication of life in a common being that is related to quantum mutes as exhibited by the explosive Parapsychology or "Paraps" that are subdivided from the different scenarios of Aporías or enclaves of logic that are conjugated with the non-existent reality, given to the mechanics of Submythology of heroes, gods, and others coming back to life in a passage of time that is not explained in some expired history book that had more to tell than what its own ruins hid from the truth that could be told. This is a wealth of objectives that this Thesis proposes, to discover in the immensity of the unknown what was and could never be told, and that the past genetically survives in varieties of classes of organic species that continue to be assembled by worlds that tend to clear and rethink what any storyteller, philosopher, historian or archaeologist can interpret.

Physics is made of a servile space or instrument of the paradox, in such a way that the events point to reopen doors that are of the unknown History that could be part of a god that did not exist until the shelves documented him as part of a living culture associating it with its patterns of daily life, politics and the chores of common human life. It would be like the Arrow of Flight with Achilles, perhaps leaving a great inheritance to Alexander the Great in the dichotomy of how it would be Zefian by instituting the balance of the world with the geodesy of the world of Vernarth, not alluding in between the time that dictates it for its governance, but rather the cosmic heart that allows guessing where the thoughts will be directed more than the elliptical of ascent, and descent how far the arrow will arrive because even so whoever finds it will be of the mental times that elapse in different fractions as it is Parapsychology not moving, but more than the time that only moves where it is not or rests to give primary indications of intelligence in which thought must establish the concrete fact that everything takes place in its elliptical, but not in dissociated thought. Perhaps the singularity of this polished rule could show that this Paradox of Zeno that everything that exists could outline that the line that divides Achilles from Alexander the Great is the elliptical of thought because in the rhetoric of parapsychology there are no contradictions if it is that in the Dimension of Hellenic History find in it a distant today that communicates with this faction of the dimensional medium. The infinitesimal calculations of the Duoverse aim to link or reconcile what is being advanced in parallel in the mechanics of neuroscience, without the need to have practical scientific vestiges to determine what inhabits the intersection of a circle of quantum with respect to another that it occupies, a classic example of Vernarth when carrying out the flashing Kenósis of his Kli or Vessel that reunites his independent non-parallel lifelines, but that of belonging to a Hellenic trunk with the mathematics that exceeds infinitesimal numbers moving all the lamps of the Universe when both demi-gods walked through the relevant infinity.

Vernarth is a paradox that begins with the analysis of his initial "V" of Lacedaemon with the intention of traveling in supposed time, more remotely than a word can be subordinated to what could reconstruct an infinite regress, which is what will happen with the Apokálypsis in question where he is the threshold section of analysis of the genesis of this work in the Kanthillana, then with the reissue of the Medico in Piacenza by recognizing the constitution of the area that is more than what any specialist can understand; that is, much further from any speculative stealth before Vernarth or after that other prototypes could arise that are indirectly related to the concretion or invisibility of Non-Visible characters, but with the arrival of the submithology genre, its structure will generate conciliatory physical fields of what that he could never refer to or know if a beginning began when the end of the prototype of an invisible being was just being gestated. Perhaps the genesis of the world is a great paradox that was looking for the beginning of the end that manages to meet with a definitive beginning allied to that of an indivisible that indefinitely and infinitely creates micro spaces where time has no place, only physics links that overlap quantumly and represent the truth of purpose.
The argument goes beyond the linear narration that tends to describe who was or was, supplanting it in that of who will be and will be whenever the bonds of a timeless continuous reality remain in all assumptions. Here it is clear the axiom of the infinity of divisibility that is predisposed by an objective to achieve an unforeseen event that is forceful as much as it is likely to plan, from the Duoverse and its composition of everything including all the magnitudes and tendencies to his feet what will add up and will be charged with what has not been built or discovered making this hypothesis of the conceptual that displaces the historical because the conceptual occurred and occurred in outdated times not altering its objective since parapsychology in its infinity of regression will annex him in every Greek, Hebrew and Western dimension and latitude in an ancient world that will always be composed of addends that incorporate it into the Vernarthian World that in turn dares to challenge that the importance of the world of emotions are not part of the study of this Thesis of Literary Heritages Sites, as an infinite potential to achieve when the Apokalypsis is definitely triggered, prior to the ascension of the Vernarth when it leaves the Megaron and its living vibrating magnetic body. The regimes are not egalitarian with the fall of the determined slave democracy of 404 a. C. It could perfectly have been ruled, making the political destinies of an entire nation that is subjugated to attract and implement political and economic experience unclear, that those who would never be sustained by a regime determined by the inclusion of quantum paradoxes would be migrated more than any political-administrative order, which never led to the development of a new dawn of science of the infinite regressions of Parapsychology that unites everything multidimensionally.

The best choice is the equivalent of Prosopography, which results from an anomaly to the rule where Vernarth's Mythology regulates the organization of prosopography, claiming to demonstrate that there are gods who intercommunicate like Spilaiaus with Zeus, claiming to establish that what is going to happen is what that he wanted for his regency the prolongation of one mythology towards another, but without it being written but "Live" this is a postulate that Submythology proposes, substituting all the method rather experimenting for the superimposition of everything to the lesson of everything that is interconnected, although maintaining the univocal root that represents all the structural, cultural, historical and sociological components that intervene at times as an entity belonging to a reality of legends that border on the reality that must be preserved vividly. The compilation lists of Greek mythology is the product of enormous processes of years that have been developed in their territorial regions, a cultural union since Christianity displaced paganism from the year 391 AD. C. tormenting virgins and nascent creeds from a multi-paganism step that was based on the diversity of their daily lives to a universal expression that surpassed all excessive freedom or nullified free will that contended with the delicate slave democracy or dissuasive militarism based on the Oracles, who never had a real interpretation of what originated from a real god or nature that governed itself, rather than a god that questioned others that only individualized their own dramas to represent them to a god that pro-tradition that he freed them or condemned them to live at the expense of a Dramatis Personae. Here is the prosopography that with the well-formulated passage and sense of defining that the Ardors of the Drama make sense of being systematized from the gods of Olympus, but also in social stratifications in part to the worldview of their own ancestors to be the most faithful interpretive of the wealth that makes up the source that structures those of us who are not destined to be deities, but if we could exist before them with a recognized pattern in average reports that could be placed when Vernarth leaves the confused division of a body that will remain in the Iridescent Hydor of the Mashiaj or when the prophetic appearance of his Mother Luccica is sustained by such a portion of a physical world, rather totally petrified before the hecatomb or end of the world, generating in her a stony and inanimate being, but if sufficiently existing to define her new role in the universe "Ab Initio" of a general objective of uniting eternity of the competo of existing of unifying the geomorphological latitudes of mythological existence with other unknown vertical cultures (Submitology) and hypothetically pool the experience of the elements of the universe as a whole to empower roles among themselves. Then unify everything that can be narrated as an imminent truth to lavish it on those who could not exist at the same time, but rather describe it with the quantum channel, as it is here that Vernarth remains conjugated to his literature, history, theory, and quality of his speech. focused on a fully portrayed and defined system of Patio V of Hellenika as the Fifth Dimension as comparisons that are rationalized with space-time, geographic-chronology submerged in a theme of Political History as the axis of states that exert social change for numerous characters who recently there they come to life, as is the case of the new stage of Zacchaeus and the Sycomoro or Saint John the Evangelist in the Hegira to Judah provided by Vernarth to rediscover its roots, and reduce what could have been but the journey of Judah if there had not been ended in a conclusive in Jaffa where the metaphor that returned to Limassol would exceed the metaphor of Rhodes as an intermediate point that perhaps nu It could never have ended.
The interrelation of conceptions is due to a Primogen of the sixth dimension that was established as it was in Izzana with the Unicorns or Uilef that carried them to Genoa, or of the Giant Camels that were transfigured in Jaffa when the Ghosts of Shiraz had an impartial interference in the successful sea off the eastern sea. The relationships of the primogeniture allow a timeless mobilization led by Eurydice as a living figurehead that structures her Orphic proselytism, further than a conventual desire to compensate for all the unfocused in the elite and the outcome in the Profitis Ilias as the maximum height of reception. Trinitarian back with the ecstasy of Saint John the Apostle as the mobile center of the Hexagonal Primogeniture, the similar inspiration of living images of Ein Karem and its shepherds.

The Birthright is a family that composes them in their faith that guides them by themselves, whose goals are primarily directed by their sacramentals from the first to the seventh Giga Camel. In the imaginary and cultural reference that is delimited by its monotheistic ideology, acquired from a Hebraic-Hellenic scientific connection, whose postulates will survive the unusual phenomenon from generation to generation, but rather infinite inter regressions that could sometimes revolutionize the entire creation from scratch interpolated by an alpha, being the same for its intended end. Behold, the crossover element of this theme alludes to objects, events, or phenomena such as the reopening of the Kassotides as a central element from which the hypothetical support of all faith could be shipwrecked, if it is put at risk of re-raising culture to save the fate of the world at risk from climate change. If two sages met in limits without knowing Schopenhauer or Nietzsche with the relevance of ideologies that would offer more factors, expanding both systems or theories as alternative areas to think free from humanism or intellectualism that somehow reveals itself at the end of the times reconciling all time of action subsequent to his potential periods, more than his written legacies because his potential lies in his social prototype more than his work, given that his virtuosity is deeply rooted as an atheist believer, more separated from any intellectual root of wisdom What if it denotes the non-existence of a Pagan or Divine Enlightened God, what would provoke the indirect means that persists of calling a society whether or not it was a believer? In the specific case of Vernarth, his entire biography revolves around a Supreme Being who appears before him as a god of mythology, and who then takes him to the portal of Saint John the Evangelist as a being of compassion who alternates with him to embrace him and your arms. Everything there is that allows to treasure, store, or interrelate in different social strata uses the divine work that a character that sheds light that can even give more brightness than any star that can be demonstrated in a written work as an essential starting base reliability of an author who is inspired, and is not inspired.

Submithology also replaces prosopography, to say the least, that unites in general circles that cease to be physical until the ethereal limen that converts them into micro translation spaces such as quantum, in the same reciprocity of a point A-B and B-A and vice versa as it stipulates the connectivity of what exalts thought, and its inheritance when rising to the point that would be the “Intellectual Heaven”. Vernarth in the present time of any researcher could attribute that it will depart from the Iridescent Hydor photo-duct by seven channelings of the spectrum of the refracting luminaire but of the concomitance of the observable Vernarth, or rather of what little remains to be able to observe of man after leaving It is sighted by the masks that caustically protect or envelop it as a waste of what is not attributable to a Politai, having conditions of dense interests of a destiny that will never be recognized or belong to it. It is because of this reluctance that the proposal of free will offers greater perspectives in a series of misunderstandings such as Empowering two famous atheists like Nietzsche or Schopenhauer at the service of believers who would never object to the full range of possibilities that they could implement from scratch, to convert a Christian who is like himself to a convert who will purge and reverse all his permissible externally in the farthest destinies that allow him to ascend in freedom of annulled will, not only on the earth with one more differentiated, but as a tender being who saves the world so that the world does not forget him. This thesis offers the man who has been bastardized or discriminated from a social marginal depriving him of alternating with nobles or well-to-do who circulate under the same roof of half humanity that allows the common man to dispense with all humanist beliefs, opposition, syncretic, etc. .) To detach from all vanity that is limited in the abandonment of any of it progressing with all creation that if it is when every living organism ceases to be on Patmos.

The Patmos reef may contain inventories, archives, demographic indexes, religious spheres, congregations as repertoires of those that will form when an external being arrives to build a society that imposes its character of contribution to society, and tends to adapt to particular aspects that the that they will be until today on the island itself, in itself demanding the leadership of an elite of the Passional of Iahvé through Saint John the Apostle in conception of qualifying him with the great stratified of the species that compromises in the optics of converting his followers, as an essay of an illusion made real ad honorum of a residual fragmentary that does little to unify the eras in which the rich and poor will be relatives not because of their genealogy, but because what the poor lead of the other to save him from an end that has another handle of his heraldry and portraits of his game that is deactivated in the collective imagination of all his progeny highlighted as a representative of mutations of numer dark ales, where nothing will be recorded only in this untrammeled probability of granting a life that resides in everything that cannot be seen or named, that transgresses all sources of prosopography as something deductive in this case Deus Ex Machina; as will be embodied in the final tableau of Vernarth's Trilogy III "Like the god who will descend from the machine or in this case from Hydor to Vernarth to take him to Alikantus with his mended golden hooves"
To conclude where it remains to argue that it can attract us from the Intuition of being more than a human who can actually live more than what can be budgeted, without prejudice to common sense that is quiet and distant from the epilogue of this work when whoever looks at it and hold on to a legacy of Heritage Site Literature, and manage to embrace it so that its pulse can be felt in each character it is in, and in each episode of a post-classical story. The derivations of a critical analysis of psychological Vernarth is greatly affected by an independent reaction of a real regime to which his fellow Hoplite Soldier leads him to the event of Arbela in the great battle of Gaugamela, integrating himself into the analysis of a reality that did not belong to him due to because he came from another remote erudition, and was only recognized for defending common acts that reflect the awakening of a new seed of value and temperament of a whole baggage of anthroponymy that could fit in all the spontaneous civilizations that manage to transgress the barriers of time and normal space, here is Vernarth who manages to fit in the names that substantiate in others that revalues them, and could appear as a perfect leadership name to access a Helot, Hoplite or Politai housing space in the same way as It could be transmitted from a leader who, together with Wonthelimar, was able to cross the Pyrenees or the heights of Ida or Kanthillana. as a high descendant of the Arakynthos Mountains of Messolonghi destined for the Koumeterium of the same name where the genealogical table of Vernarth is carved together with his brother Etrestles, under the invisible courtesies of a man when he is condemned being born from here from the numb invincible spirit of the Heroes of the Independence of Greece 1830. Finally, in this penultimate episode that Vernarth qualifies the sense of not being affected by an oppressive cause as being influenced by supremacies of ideas, creeds, philosophies, or governmental order, rather by a divine general scientific exordium that is from where he manages to interpret when the Mashiach or Messiah, will take his hands to carry him to meet the Hydor and dwell in that place with Him. The archivist will have the possibility to investigate and study in situ the paranormal events referred to as mega parapsychology, This way he will allow his vast merciful heart to be a strategist to carry in his inventory everything s the petitions of the living who remain in the land of Greece to take them to those who remain in the land via Patmos. Vernarth from the 6th century AD. in search of his genealogy he can create a meritorious dignity of giving funeral rites to his ancestors, the long-standing family coat of arms became returnable to the Reign of Horcondising: Spílaiaus and Aiónius with the major gods who waited for him to reside in the entire fringe of the invisible beings that in eternity will take chronological charge of a revolving time that will recirculate from all that is not dimensioned like a spiral dragging all the empires that request the renovation of their ruins, and of their beings that cry out for the misuse of this world and new coverage of a new world of replacement; as Vernarth's Strategoi legacy through all the reigns between Justin I and Justinian I of the sixth century, since previously a large part of Vernarth's family was exiled to the South of Spain by the then Roman Empire from the north of Venice to the Mediterranean, from here he transfers all the families of his lineage with his Coat of Arms of Lacedaemon to protect them over the course of more than 700 years. In this way, a large part of those who had to protect the family raft that was protected by Vernarth in the revolt of Constantinople after signing peace with Persia. The Apoinandros preserved all his lineage along the paths of an enthronement ritual that protected the distinctions but also the families of the world in the Mediterranean regions, curiously where a large part of this Trilogy navigates the Triacontero Eurídice together with Vernarth as Strategoi of expeditionary forces in glorious parapsychologies of the Middle Ages moving periodically from south to north of all of Hispania, even alternating with Nordic and German elites, such as Greek-Hebrew nominating Vernarth as a dignitary that will be preserved in the coat of arms Strategikon that managed to be collaborated with the Emperors the century VI, attributing that some of the most robust could be part of the elites of the Roman legions as exclusive Praetorians. In this way, all the family trunk and his insignia were migrated from the north of Venice, then to Lombardy to be redirected to Spain later in the coming centuries to South America. The Strategikon has presented as relevant to the present elaboration thanks to its representativeness regarding the egregious existence, compilation, and hoarding of relevant technical information for the performance of the distinguished tasks of ex-military, being able to be verified with absolute certainty within its family traits with its existence, and continued use as a source of the great Taktika of Alexander the Great and Saint John the Apostle as Magister Militum.
Epilogues Trilogy III ( Excerpt)
Jason Cirkovic Sep 2015
"That is final!"
The last words I say
As I slowly meld all the epilogues
From my favorite stories together
The Last words I have said
To the woman to raised me from the tin cans
That rattle in my brain when I think of her.

Saying I love her
Is the beautiful struggle
I arm wrestling with every day
As I look at the ceiling
Trying to use my eyes
As a cradle for my tears.
Hold them back,
Hold them back,
I say hold them back
Just the ******* gates called shadows
That would would slam her head
Against the door
Because I wouldn't clean my room.

When people ask me about her
I hide the truth under my hoodie
Don't show the truth
Like a weapon
Of awkward conversations
And nervously say,
“Same old same old.”

Forgiveness is only used
With people who like their music on repeat.
I used to subconsciously.
Oh yes,
Played each song perfectly
“Wait I've found your stash
In the same place last month.”
Oh yes I remember that time,
When you were tripping
Over the bottles that held memories
Of when you said
That you would quit
The liquid demons this time

"This time"
The only song I'm thinking of
When I'm thinking
“Mom why are you pouting
On the floor of the market,
You’re 48?”

Her demons constantly grab at my ankles,
Whispering it won’t happen again.
Yet here I am,
Running from the missed calls on my phone,
Sitting in this vacant apartment,
Terrified that I made the wrong decision
Of starting over.
Tommy Johnson Jun 2014
I can't seem to catch a break
My luck is marred by misfortune
I pass the dance squads grooving to tunes coming out of their ghetto blaster
Shaved ice and snow cones
Party foul!
Lamps busted get an adhesive

They went sightseeing
Dabbling in the art of hiking
More or less wandering
It may sound off putting to some

He is a delightful chap
He's good with wingnuts and transistors
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls
Cut up the buckwheat
For an incomparable meal
Empty out the ashtrays and spittoons
The epilogues of habits
Solve improper fractions
You got nothing else better to do
Recite the silicone soliloquy

Fritter away the votes for the popularity contest
Because you've spoken your mind
Here comes The Pony Express
Here I come looking disheveled
We're all onions, peel back the layers and look for yourself
Play it by ear

We can hear you panting
The lazy work horse
With a hostile mentality
And portentous attitude
Go alphabetize the tiles in the bathroom

"Crime is common, logic is rare"
But she has defied that statement
When she waltzed in, and looked for the emergency exits
And found a sense of humor amongst her latchkey misery and love life tragedies

As the clueless boys on blue try to fill their quota
And the ones in deep thought assess situations
While putting lipstick on pigs in a blanket
During the inspection of a chalk line ****** scene
Ugo Victor Feb 2022
With blood for ink
I write
Until I'm drained
And then
The epilogues follow

This is the story of my life.
I'm thankful for the time to reflect
To feel warm embraces of memories
Emotions of lighthearted joy, and
Scenes of my life that conclude with
Their own heartfelt epilogues

Thankful to shed tears
Serving as reminders
That no matter the hardship
We are one as human

Keeping internal connections alive
Breathing in this life to the fullest

I explore in self
What I can give
Back to this journey

My eternal gratitude
For moments like this
And loved ones like you.
I wrote this piece last year for Thanksgiving, but its message goes for each and every day. Let us always spread love and warmth, and open our hearts to each other. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Cherish what you have, and remember that you are loved, always.
Spyromundu Dec 2017
Firm goose bumps healing me
Cementing my assembled continents after inner war
On ****** refineries, life is flowing
Pushing lifeless cells into ruination



Roots painting a large red carpet
For the train of my inner facets, so as it passes…
Green halos, milky bones, pearly teeth, gentle grass
Above ruins of the burnt ex persona



The glowing, tabula rasa, the heard, and the silent
The sun and his murky reflection rejoined
Riding my coffin as a horse, with a smirk in the backseat
Journeying through the doors of this joke



O lie, O life, you are joking, it is more than comical
It adumbrates every sort of epilogues you are selling
If not, you are just another joker’s spicy laugh
Dancing on ever-morphing layers



Halls and rooms of you; so narrow and spacious at once
Like woods seen from below, by a whirling dervish
Outer worlds adduce extraterrestrial cheer here
It is echoing, vertiginous ping pong for walls



It manufactures a shallow pink view
Covering this old skin, numerous and so colorful, but bruised
It lands with you on this devine shell
Without a greeting, not even an omen leads



Masked, you hypnotise me with a yellow smile
While you rob me with dark; reddish hands
In my mom’s womb, you try to abduct me
Without bowing for the creator and his living planets



Stop! Ruth, O clemency, this mother is a creature
Her signature is Earth, and she has diamonds, thine and mine
She is a quarry of senses; blue and twisted
She is a shy and deadly entity, just like us
Comment - What did you think?
Joy Nov 2015
Study me.
Be the restless scholar
Glasses turned upright, hair in knots,
Dizzy with sleepless nights beside the candlelight,
Coffee stains strewn like Christmas ornaments,
Where you study my pages
With relentless curiosity
Leaving your eager fingers shaky
Spellbound and hungry for the end.

Find me.
Trace your eyes over wayward maps,
Over my skin,
Seek me beneath the epilogues and endless chapters.
Read between the lines to see me
Waving and giggling, (or sobbing and quivering).
Write papers on my patterns, on my stanzas -
Tumble down the rabbit hole of my syllables,
Where ink is branded in the roar of rising-and-falling flesh.
November, 2015
psyche Jan 2018
We are open diaries
Have seen each other's folds
Have touched the innermost souls.

We are a pen
Of written prologues
And broken epilogues.

We are almost there,
Aren't we?
Until that day we stopped talking
And became some sweet strangers
Again.
psyche Apr 2021
We do not read epilogues
in the middle of conflicts
nor when characters
are torn apart

We bleed when they
fall apart

and our hearts
die to be reborn
either with hope
or emptiness.

that's when a breather takes place-
an epilogue that
makes us more
of how the ones we met
and part ways with
built us anew.
Manunula T Feb 2018
We are open diaries
Have seen each other's folds
Have touched the innermost souls.

We are a pen
Of written prologues
And broken epilogues.

We are almost there,
Aren't we?
Until that day we stopped talking
And became some sweet strangers
Again.
Tyler King Feb 2018
Something else is here,

Something isn't right,

Imposter empires,
Gilded knives and false flags,
Come, let your towers rise

Fill my mouth with wine,
My ears with honey,
My hands with flesh,
My eyes with light,
Petrify me inch by inch,

The feeling hungers to be lived in,
It's teeth graze my neck,
It sings of blood and prophecy,
Epoch of an age-
Marked by moonlight cataclysm,
Drifts of smoke and drums of war,
The blinds open,
The feeling consumes

This is not my body,
This is a Trojan horse,
Omen of plague,
Biblical negligence,
Genesis of epilogues,
After the credits apology,
Consolation prize,
Fate cut short and luck run dry,
A type of magic nobody believes in,
Some revelations have to be swallowed whole,
Like police lights in the windows at the party,
Or locusts in the skies of Egypt,
You have to realize when you've gone too far, and walk away while you can
Chandy Sep 2021
We want peace, no more war
But, pawns already in motion
Kings are established
We never got this far
By bowing down to a tsar
Yet, a journey needs an ending
Closing act, here comes the facts:
There are no epilogues
In this world, you're done, leave it at that
Leaders play Chess
Soldiers play with toys
One embraces strife
The other sends away life.
Qualyxian Quest Aug 2021
If you read the epilogues
They always remain the same
The death of once young promise
Human life in vain

But the chapters do remember
And the book it does exist
Memory is mystery
So yes, my friends, resist!

  New York City morning mist
              Italy insist.
Bijoylakshmi Das Dec 2019
WE ARE NEVER APART
The Symphony from far is azar in the lonely air
Speaks of the splendorous surrealist Love,
We are clad in an ineffable Ecstasy
Robed in the aureate attire of the Godhead above.

Our souls are tied in strings of rapture
The glance seized by the skyless Infinite,
Mind no more slave to the mortal physique,
Spirit's realm seeks the Unknown's forgotten height.

We are two little Blossoms to spread the nectar of joy
The uninhaled fragrance of eternal Love,
Two tiny stars shining against the immeasurable sky
Still, on earthly abode we do aimlessly rove.

Two journeys different from two  woodlands different,
Two lines parallel do never meet,
Two contradictions of the One Single thought
Meet only at infinity in His unending Bliss.

Two shores of the shoreless Ocean
Betwixt the soft murmurs of a boundless Nought,
We are vast, profound in the mileless Unknown
Human measures view us as microscopic dots.

With two aims different,
Two lives living poles apart,
The Heaven's immensity  keeps her door open,
Our feet are tied to the soil of the Earth.

Delight most enriched tread in motionless moments,
The pregnant clouds rain the momentous mirth,
The breath stops but death alights not,
We are deathless in an Immortal Birth.

Two sweet notes of the One melodious Flute
Played here and there behind the din and bustle of man,
The two awarenesses of the single Omniscient's Beatitude,
Make us forever bound in the knot of the One.

The futile flutter of our frailsome wings
Of two little Swans in their infancy's Flight,
The Call of the Beyond ever awakes us -
Endows us with the invisible foresight.

Two epilogues of an unfinished chapter
Carved on the large unending stretch of Time,
The masked manifestations of an untrod precinct:
Two blissful notes of the unending rhyme.

Two unheard rhythms of an unsung Poem -
Writ with unseen hues of the amazing Blue,
The rhymeless rhymes with the forgotten prologue
Unveil its classic memorable hue.

Endless is the Journey, the Goal certain
In an unshakable certitude we do meet,
Night is scary, dark and eerie,
The Dawn enlightening awaits us
At Ego's unconditional forfeit.

As in the world ephemeral we live,
We do part, but never apart,
We are together in love forever -
To make our Sojourn eternally alive.
In an Immutable Endless Vast.
(Bijoylakshmi Das, Haridwar. 13 July 2019)


.
jewel Apr 18
over & over again.
i am born.
the ****** carcass
i emerge from
the flesh;
true immortality.
the wounds
i have suffered
turn me inside out;
plum red
and beating.
i am the deliverer of
epilogues, beginnings
of prologues
but i can’t remember
again & again
if this is a curse
or what they call a blessing.
i wish i could savor
a

satisfying

end
copyrighted, poemsbyjewel (2025).

— The End —