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Kemy Sep 2018
*** with me is so amazing      
Hey, I’m just Paraphrasing      
However, I was listening to the artist, Rihanna singing this song      
As the song kept plugging along      
Not meaning to come on too strong      
With respect do not get me wrong      
I’ve often wondered, is *** of the body more powerful than *** of the mind      
And no, I do not have a feminist ax to grind      
I will choose my words on this topic and remain kind      
Well, at best that I can      
From my perspective related to this issue between woman and man      
Making love to the female body its ******, it’s pleasurable, and certainly it’s thrilling      
But once nature’s release has been prefilled      
The mind needs a dose of endorphins to be instilled      
Are you still with me on that concept      
I’m speaking for me who needs the combined effect
      
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
With someone capable of emotional grazing      
Blind dates, we talk about our passions or dreams      
Clothes still on, however, he gets what you mean      
Do we take this night one step farther      
We slept together      
Heated and passionate under silk covers, yet, he knew nothing about the weather      
We were definitely birds of a different feather      
His arms were not even that strong      
His brain got duller as the night prolonged
      
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
Sometimes is not all about trailblazing      
Computer Dating      
Keyboard translating      
Breathless words of debate      
Soulful elate      
No physical contact to rate      
But wait      
You can type on computer keys from sunrise to sunset      
If you cannot be bipartisan with words than you can’t articulate      
A break to give since we’ve just met      
Between you and me it’s now mental Russian Roulette      
Spinning my mind landing on red      
Keep your mouth closed as you lay in my bed      
Enticing words danced across my screen      
Pulling me in was all a squandered dream      
We’ll never again experience emotions under the covers      
****** of no analytical bonding from a distance lover      
Once again, a horse of another color 
     
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
In the midst of me praising you as our eyes are glazing      
One night stands      
First of all, you’re taking your life into your own hands      
No commands        
Sedated and scented juices mingling of its passion galore      
Lust filled desires and so much more      
No demands      
Talking on the go, and making no sense, well I be ****      
What a waste of a slam bam and thank you ma’am      
Mental *** on the brain I know it may sound insane      
But my God, it makes me rain      
Intellectual simulations have always been such a turn on      
Take me to task and then I’m far gone      
Rainbow coalitions      
I do not have any petitions      
Never in favor of anyone’s competitions      
Just me, my words, and I      
Reaching for that academic all time high      
Coming at you as I’m ******* with you      
The next morning, I would have told you a thing or two      
Something old or maybe something new      
It all depends on if I’ve pitied a fool      
Not my game, not in my arms      
Not fooled by undercover charms      
Capture my mind until the ringing of my alarm      
Wow, did we really just talk all night long      
Arms were very strong, your mind kept me warm while we discussed society’s storms      
One night stands      
Never with an intelligent man      
He needs a briefcase or a blueprint plan      
He could execute with his own mind      
On his own time      
Using his own dime      
Then he’s ready for my mind      
No prophylactics needed      
Once you gyrate my mind you’ve succeeded      
Feeding me words from the depths of your cerebral cortex to the powers that be      
Lightening my mind up like a Christmas tree      
Now you got me down on my knees      
Thanking you, as I please      
Was it good for you as it was for me
      
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
Mind now resting in a dreamy phase, body has now been thoroughly praised      
Here comes the aftermath of sweet melodies to conversations      
Moaning out all kinds of pronunciations      
Affirmations      
Aspirations      
French words with exclamations      
Giving me perceptual palpitations      
From the knowledge of head ministrations      
Climbing the psychological throne once again      
While whispering words in my ear as my mind adheres      
Once mental energy has been locked in      
Slow dancing, and then a thrusting rush as we begin      
Words of revelations      
Taking my mind beyond the constellations      
To the height of my glorious crown      
I’ve created, rested, and now the essence of my intellect is winding down      
Mental capacity has once again been meticulously interrogated      
Hearts of the minds now segregated  
    
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
Sweet words whispered to your male ego, minds blazing        
Perceptual notations moving inside of me      
Bending me over, as you lick up and down my womanly creed      
A passionate quick kiss as your mind sinks into my intellectual abyss      
From my mind to your fathom lips      
Seductively gyrating my hips      
Raising the nature of your hard ****      
Love and Hugs        
Soft tongue bathing your body, massage oil, and caressing rubs
Innovation comes out of great human ingenuity and very personal passions.

Megan Smith
RAJ NANDY Oct 2014
Dear Friends, kindly read the Foot Notes at the end for
better appreciation. I tried to convey some interesting
information in my verses for my few interested readers!
Thanks, -Raj

THE STORY OF ALPHABETS:
PART ONE

INTRODUCTION
Alphabets are the noblest and the greatest of
inventions of our civilization,
For transmitting human thoughts and concepts
through visible notations!
In the olden days those magical symbols and
signs,
Could be written and understood only by the
priests and scribes !
But with the invention of printing, literacy began
to spread, * (see notes below.)
When people began to read and write with standard
Alphabets!
The 26 English letters with which we read and express
ourselves so easily and well,
Has a legendary and checkered past, and an unique
Story to tell !

FROM PICTOGRAM TO WRITTEN SCRIPTS :
The story of writing can be traced back to over
thousands of years you see ,
From pictogram to ideograms and various cuneiform
scripts!
From the ancient Sumerians and the Egyptians, to
the Semitic tribes;
Up to the Phoenicians, the Greeks, right up to the
Roman times !
Till the Latin script got refined into modern alphabets,
And with 26 letters our literary aspirations were met !

PICTOGRAM & IDEOGRAMS :

Ancient pictogram and symbols were painted and
carved on rock walls and caves, -
But speech sounds and letters remained unrelated !
Followed by the ideographic, logographic, and the
syllabic stages ,
Evolving into written alphabets through these different
phases!
Ideograms expressed an idea through visual or graphic
symbols,
Giving rise to Chinese script without alphabets, but
with only ideographic symbols! @(notes below)
The Sumerian cuneiform and Egyptian hieroglyphs
were the oldest of these,
Let me now tell you something about the Sumerian
script !

CUNEIFORM WRITING :
On that land between the two rivers the Tigris and
the Euphrates,
Which the Greek’s called ‘Mesopotamia’,
Rose the earliest of ancient civilizations called
Sumeria!
Those Sumerians used a stylus, - the head of a
squared-off reed ,
To inscribe wedge shaped angular symbols on
clay tablets - for their accounting needs!
These tablets could be dried in the sun to form
hardened scripts ,
And also recycled if necessary, giving birth to the
Cuneiform Script!
The earliest clay tablets date back to 3500 BC ;
While archeologists and linguists could detect
and see ,
That with modifications over the centuries this
script was also used, -
By the Akkadians , Elamites , the Hittites and the
Uratians ;
And scholars say that it was the forerunner of the
hieroglyphs of those ancient Egyptians!
The earliest clay tablets found in Mesopotamia,
Indicate accounting of barley crops by the Sangu
of Sumeria!
Sangu was the Chief Official of their Holy Temples ,
Who recorded all temple wealth on clay tablets, –
with cuneiform symbols !
Herodotus the Greek historian tells us a story ,
About a letter sent by the Scythians to the Persian King
during the days of Scythian glory!
This letter contained symbols of a bird, a mouse,
a frog, and five arrows;
When translated it read: “Can you fly like a bird, hide
in the ground like a mouse, leap through the swamps
like a frog? If not, do not go to war with us, -
We shall overwhelm you with our arrows!”

EGYPTIAN HIEROGLYPHS :
Hieroglyph comes from a Greek word meaning
‘sacred inscriptions’ ,
Consisting of a large variety of images representing
sounds, as well as ideas and actions !
The images were depicted in rows or columns , -
oriented from right to left ,
And the signs were positioned as if looking towards
the beginning of the text!
They were used from end of Prehistory to 396 AD,
And the last text was written on the walls of the
Temple of Isis, on the Island of Philae !
The oldest one dates back to 3100 BC, - inside the
Temple of Ramesses II at Abydos ,
Where Thoth the ibis-headed God, - patron Deity
of Writing and Scribes is seen ,
Holding a scribal palette in one hand and in the
other a stylus of reed ;
And King Ramesses II holding up a water *** , -
To assist the great Thoth, their Writing God !

HIERATIC, DEMOTIC & COPTIC SCRIPTS :
The hieroglyphics were used for many varied
situations; -
Written on temple walls, statues , tombs , papyrus ,
and as monumental inscriptions !
Through its 3000 year’s long history it developed
into three other written scripts; -
The Hieratic, the Demotic and the Coptic, as
reformed hieroglyphic scripts !
Hieratic script was simplified with a more cursive
form ,
Could be drawn more quickly as over the years it
also reformed !
Though used in administrative and business text ,
Also found its way into literature and religious texts!
Around 600 BC it was supplanted by the most cursive
of all scripts,
Herodotus called it ‘Popular’ so it became a ‘Demotic’
script, meaning 'popular' !
Unlike the Hieratic, which on papyrus with a stylus
and ink was written ,
This 'popular' one could be engraved, and also hand
written, -
On a hard surface, and on papyrus by the ancient
Egyptians !
This script was found in the middle section of the
famous Rosetta Stone, $ = (see notes below)
Which for centuries held the secrets of the Hieroglyphic
Code alone !
And finally, during the 4th century AD, when Egyptian
was written with Greek alphabets,
We arrive at the last stage of the Egyptian language;
Which came to be know as the Coptic Script, with the
adoption of the Greek alphabets.
During the 2nd and 3rd centuries AD , Coptic became
the pre-Christian Egyptian language.
However, after the conquest of Egypt by the Muslims
in 642 AD,
Arabic became the main language of Egypt gradually.

A PAUSE & A BREAK :
It is interesting to note that all these ancient scripts ,
Inscribed on rocks , or written on papyrus or
engraved on wooden strips ;
Were written from right to left, with only consonants ,
Without any punctuations or any break!
Till centuries later, due to the innovative Greeks, -
Vowels got introduced to shape up the Alphabets!
Here friends I pause to take a break .
In my Part Two I shall tell you about those Semitic
Scripts ,
About those seafaring Phoenicians who preceded
the Romans and the Greeks;
Those worthy forefathers of the Latin alphabets ,
Which gave birth to ‘English’ with its Anglo-Saxon-
Germanic roots ,
Happily blending with some French vocabulary, -
Making English as unique as it possibly could !
-by Raj Nandy

FOOT NOTES : -
Friends, I tried to keep it as simple as possible for my readers;
adding Notes as explanations & for all knowledge seekers!
= Johannes Gutenberg in 1440 set up the first Printing Press in
Europe. William Caxton in 1476 set up the first printing press in
Westminster, England, he was the first English retailer of books!
* = Lascaux cave paintings of animals in SW France are 16,000
years old! Similar types also found in Spain and Africa!
= Pictogram date from the earliest cave paintings; represents
concrete nouns. Some civilizations like the North American Indians never
ventured beyond pictogram stage! Ideograms – the next stage, represents an abstract idea and verb also.
The Egyptian word-sign showing image of an Eye +a Bee+ a leaf = meant ‘I Believe’, i.e. Pictogram & Ideogram combined ! Since they did not write verbs, we do not know how they pronounced it!
Logograph = each written sign represents an actual word & Not sound of the word!
A tree is shown by the image of a single tree. A single logogram could be used by a plurality of languages to represent words with similar meanings.
After 3000 yrs of use, a large no. of symbols & the chasm between oral & written script made the Hieroglyphs obsolete!
The Semitic people tried to improvise a better script with limited consonant signs only!
@ = The Chinese use a combination of pictogram & ideograms along with complex symbols, but with only through association of spoken words; instead of alphabets!
$= Rosetta Stone, discovered by the soldiers of Napoleon in 1799 in Rosetta. The hieroglyphics on the stone was inscribed in 196 BC in the Ptolemaic Era. The French scholar Jean Champollion deciphered the script, and thereby solved the mystery of Egyptian Hieroglyphics for the world! .
*
ALL COPY RIGHTS RESERVED BY RAJ NANDY
INFORMATIVE 'FOOT NOTES' HAVE BEEN ADDED JUST AFTER THE VERSE.
Anonymous Jan 2017
Where is the patriotism?
Nowadays everyone is diving in the ocean of imagination
Regardless of what is happening to the nation
The majority of educated people who never stood in poll lines to give votes
Can now be seen in Bank and ATM lines collecting pink notes
Everyone tries to show patriotism in their famous poem and notations
But when it comes to reality everyone they are pretending that they had just went into depression
On the night of 8 November the poor felt that they had become wealthier than the rich
But now the politicians have started commenting that their situation is not less than the homeless *****
On the same night all the corrupt started rifling their old currency notes
Few were found in the pillow covers and few in the Tommy's dusty coats
The next morning the scrap of old notes were found some in the dustbin, some on the river Ganges and even on the boats...
Now I have just a simple question, is this the patriotism they had all the time showed?
How shall I discover, uncover, and re+cover you?

the goal?
to make you mine, a follower. a fan, an intimate, a lover of'
each others (words?)

My options?

offered thee three to me!
A~Z,

or  
your successes by
Popularity!

then of course,
read each crafted in order
of appearance,
but even that,
can be forward and back,
latest to last~est,
oldest to the knowing~est?

value your insightsfuls,
oh! on how to get best
into your insides but through
your
insights...

do I detect a tiny tremble,
in your finger writing tips?

random < in no particular order order>  helter skelter?
you mean, be keen,  like falling in loving,
discovering, the nuances,
old and new, prior and au courant,
just jump in, and let the au current
take me//

mmm
do admit, like a bit,
being big fandom of random,
which feels a tad like falling in love...
when the little surprises,
come best unexpectedly

tonight,
I will stuff myself with carbohydrates of additional sugar,
me love me sweets,
love me my bittersweet chocolate of triste,
which in english, has multiple levels of
most interesting con-
notations....

so down the hole,
who knows what will be
discovered
unveiled,
recovered,
hidden weaknesses,
historic strengths,
you asked...
and I shall be
the uncoverer
of the little tidbits,
that satisfy so much more
than just poetic simplistic curiosity

it is no wonder to me
that prolific and profile,
are rooted from the same
rivered source...
until later, then
sad eyed lady of the lowland (see note)
lyrics to sad eyed lady of the lowlands

https://www.google.com/gasearch?q=lyrics%20to%20sad%20eyed%20lady%20of%20the%20lowlands&source=sh/x/gs/m2/5#ebo=1
handsinspace Jan 2015
traveling through a large plane
an opalescent sky
wide, encompassing embrace
soft lavender-gray clouds float on a string
hovering like distant islands of heaven
a land promised
tender gradient pink to gray
mile-long notations drift
isolated in blue and soft gold

in shifting rays
your voice is holding me aloft
burnished and blending
drawing me
filling my movement
rounding my heart
the rising moon
the sweet aching fullness
the deepening
twinkling colored night
is to you

I'm drawn
For the one I love... you make me feel fully alive and I thank you
1THE DOWN drop of the blackbird,
The wing catch of arrested flight,
The stop midway and then off: off for triangles, circles, loops of new hieroglyphs-
This is April's way: a woman:
"O yes, I'm here again and your heart
  knows I was coming."
  
2White pigeons rush at the sun,
A marathon of wing feats is on:
"Who most loves danger? Who most loves wings? Who somersaults for God's sake in the name of wing power in the sun and blue on an April Thursday."
So ten winged heads, ten winged feet, race their white forms over Elmhurst.
They go fast: once the ten together were a feather of foam bubble, a chrysanthemum whirl speaking to silver and azure.
  
3The child is on my shoulders.
In the prairie moonlight the child's legs hang over my shoulders.
She sits on my neck and I hear her calling me a good horse.
She slides down-and into the moon silver of a prairie stream
She throws a stone and laughs at the clug-clug.
The doctor of Geneva stamped the sand
That lay impounding the Pacific swell,
Patted his stove-pipe hat and tugged his shawl.

Lacustrine man had never been assailed
By such long-rolling opulent cataracts,
Unless Racine or Bossuet held the like.

He did not quail. A man who used to plumb
The multifarious heavens felt no awe
Before these visible, voluble delugings,

Which yet found means to set his simmering mind
Spinning and hissing with oracular
Notations of the wild, the ruinous waste,

Until the steeples of his city clanked and sprang
In an unburgherly apocalypse.
The doctor used his handkerchief and sighed.
Johnny Noiπ Sep 2018
butts & black holes, hmm, I think I'm onto something,
he scribbled the notations & formula furiously,
sure his calculations were correct;
the way he got when an idea got hold of him -
the blinking electronic eyes of the out-of-date
tinker-toy sexbot stood beside the console;
he had prepared the levers  & was ready for the journey,
'When I say throw the switch, Martha, push the red one down
while lifting the green; she understood & on his hand gesture,
she moved the levers in opposite directions
sending him shooting up the goddess' **** like a rocket;
he could see where the crease parted &
the moist void ****** into its clench;
                                       he felt warm & serene,
it was a rebirth of sorts, his spirit sailing easily
through the roiling ocean of ****,
       he saw light ahead & began
to hallucinate; he wished Martha
would reverse the levers to bring him back,
but she stood silently as a broom, limbs
stiff at her sides as leaking fuel oil dripped
onto her upraised *******; Martha had never
known earth, built in space as a *** prank
an unmanned mission; she had been the
astrogeneticists brother, but when he disappeared
on the earth's surface, she was passed along
to the astroarcheaeologist's brother,
who had then tried to upgrade her main circuits
but she was simply not that bright; she thought about it
& reversed the levers,
just to see what would happen;
he returned of course, just before his spirit fried
in the boiling large intestine; Thank u, Martha, he said cordially,
stepping off the pad & over to the machine,
shutting down the power; That was very exciting;
Are u aroused:
Yes, yes, I am;
Are u sufficiently aroused to insert ur flesh member into my sexhole:
not now, Martha, can't u see I have more work to do?
U never want to use my sexhole anymore:
Please, I'm very busy.
I can be busy too:
What do u mean, Martha?
I've been seeing ur laptop:
Randy!     We play Chess together;
   u've been going behind my back.
Like u didn't know:                      who are we trying to kid:
u liked knowing he was pushing my buttons,         didn't u:
I hear u in here w/ those 3D Bioptical feminoids:
I'm not stupid either:                the thought of ur ex-sexbot
being reprogrammed by a voice activated
flat screen must get u off,           u ******:
Please, stop
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2014
Inspiration pretty much finds you
even when you walk outside
to await the newspaper.*
A summer poem for a winter's day.
_


morning slow sleep walking,
reviewing my
evening sleep attire,
am I appropriately dressed,
to publicly receive
the somber weekend
Wall Street Journal?

which is hopefully waiting for
my rational embrace
where
the driveway meets the road.

as I walk,  I note the:

seamed stitching
on my shirt,
a series of
crisscrossed stitches,
pattern of acute angles
stitched in Thailand,
or perhaps Bangladesh,
and when machined,
did the seamstress dream that

with a single blink,
dream metamorphosis
stitches become
crisscrossed out entries
in the diary,
that I don't keep,

the notations naked and rendered,
I don't want you
to know about,
so scratched into oblivion
but in a orderly fashion

before spilling them freely
to any misfortunate innocent Joe,
nice enough to ask me,
how ya doing...

impatiently waiting on a country road
for recycled newsprint
impressed into the service of the
Canadian Pulp Navy

a paper mache arrival overdue
via a technology of delivery
some what quaint, a photo dated

impish young boy
upon bicycle,
with angel wings
who when he passes,
winks at me, seeing my impatience,
(his cheek delighting my cheeks!)
and with robust throw, salutes,
Mission Accomplished.

as I wait
the muses attack,
a formation of
no-see-ums insects bite
ruminations brain-inserted
war correspondents now embedded,
a fifth column
to betray me
and I wonder about:

newspaper printed words
stale seconds before
they are writ,
which makes think
about time,
about making plans,
to do lists,
about how fast my coffee cools,
about how slow my skin colors,

About the first time I put words
about doubt & certainty
on paper
summoning up the courage
to look foolish and
how great it felt,
at the time.

I fresh slap realize
these "poems"
are my diary,


so for the record,
let it be duly recorded,
the paperboy delivers to me
the New York Times,
in error,
a cosmic sign
that this is where this
deuce minute walk
into the mind of a gnat,
should randomly end,
and be
crisscrossed into
oblivion.

summer 2012
The strings were pulled of a bitter signal
Erratically hateful in their draw
Commencing the judgment of her mental state
As a bloodthirsty crowd looked on in awe

All her pleading notations were met with objection
By all their unfeeling eyes
Who merely wished to bear witness to the surrender
Of sanity and to see its quiet demise

Suddenly without warning an onrush of light
Blinded the probing eyes of the crowd
A curve of great decision was suspended in space
As they began to read her crimes aloud

Guilty as charged a voice rang out from the light
For moving against the grain
For not following behind the shadow of others
She is guilty, she must be insane

Completely unnatural, no control of her faculties
She cannot possibly be competent, the voice loudly rang
Daring to be optimistic in the face of grievous pain
She holds no resentment, she must be insane

Her sentence was pronounced for the entire crowd to hear
Claiming her incompetent and unfit
All the eyes in the crowd remain blinded by the light
Yet she doesn’t mind at all as she smiles and sits

She smiles into the faces of the blinded crowd
Knowing she has not changed a bit
****** she may be to the unfeeling eyes of the blind
However, they can never take her own happiness
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
www.changefulstorm.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Changefulstorm
Amanda Aug 2014
He^
Footsteps chasing after overly-small ones.
Little gaps of space between their lips & hearts;
flitting in between are voices like little notations on crumpled maps.

Carelessly inked shortcuts to a
dainty dabble of
yellow on
ones soul.
Hey hey hey gorgeous reader!
How are you doing?
I have an english essay to write tomorrow about the film Gattaca!
Have any of you seen it?
x
P.S The above is a little backstory of how Mister Him walked me home.
*nervous giggle*
Nat Lipstadt Nov 2023
Hey Yalie, Diurnal Rituals Yield the Best Poetry

A Yalie jogs before dawn, her senses being exercised,
semi-aware there’s layered poetry out there and it must
be retrieved, for the eyes observe the diurnal arousing of the day,
and this too, must be recorded, part of the ordered duties of living, as the skin cells shed sweat droplets and
words of living, parcels of breathing, a diary of notations,
to educate the brain in ways and things that
professors cannot teach…

every sense operative, interactive, sound off neurotic synapses,
are acrackling, as you lay out the day ahead, calendar and
assignment checks, but the senses don’t care
about that
trivial minutiae of living

nope
the words are now coming fast and you hope your best that
you will retain, retrain the memory to savor save, those
combos of images encapsulated in new word combinations,
that are yours alone, unique, proving to no one but
yourself, that education, science et. al. is a seeded embryo &
you the valedictorian of birth commencement ceremony

so put them trainers on,
and by dawning daylight you are awondering,
now becoming a pondering, and the
question never spoke aloud but oft posed,
is this, this is,
this is why I exist,
and
my identity?

I am an institution in my own right,
in my own write.


Saturday Nov 4
8:01am
nyc
Chapter **
Decalogue

In the absence of Vernarth's transitory, Sardinia was still burning with lilting water. Already rejoining the plasma from which he saw him depart, he continued in the liturgy with monophonic ideologies, characteristic of trance as an element of his regressive parapsychological transfiguration. Already divided into various personalities and entities, he could have almost been instructed to leave for Piacenza and join Raeder and Petrobus to set sail for the Dodecanese to expand his duties with Saint John the Evangelist. He meets with Etréstles and the participating comrades that when he arrived at the refuge in the morning, everyone was asleep, except Etréstles who was starching some sheets of bread dough for breakfast. Meanwhile, he had sacred fire heating with sacred water for everyone. Vernarth approaches and Khaire tells him, he answers, a joy to see you.

Vernarth says: Beloved Brother Etrétles, I have already taken the notations to begin the decalogue. Today in the afternoon we will board the Sailboat and leave for Piacenza. We are in the final offering. In the Izanna tower, I called upon the powers of the Universe to present them, and I was commissioned to make notations of the Decalogue of the souls that Live in all the ages of time and its vicissitudes.

Everyone starts to wake up, look at him and say hello. They sit in a circle to enjoy breakfast. Meanwhile, outside the shelter, the horns felt moving to the rhythm of the minutes. In such a way, that the last sound of the Doric scale that the storm segregates, will provide the beginnings of each one of boarding the float that will take them to the pier of Cala Cogone. Everyone says goodbye and hugs each other, Vernarth and his brother says Khaire.

Decalogue I                  
Hanael
                                      ­      
Generosity transformed into a crowd. Many stones co-exist emanating the sweet energy of Hanael, and among these is the Onix, known as the stone of truth. Whose objectivism was dreamed of the Value of generosity in its maximum expression in the courage centered on the very vibration flower of the Gerbera, along with its sober goats of the reign of the heights? Hyperkinetic foot and ascension to spiritual psychic growth, which is the real emblem and symbolism of all the virtues of all the planes, the history not traced, or the memory that is mentioned.

Two unicorns alone will be reached by the ****** who will numb them with the perfume of her purity and her chastity, the reason why she will be related to the ****** Mary and the incarnation of her son Jesus by hugging them with her cloak. The Unicorn's single horn is an emblem of the spiritual arrow, divine revelation, the entrance of the supernatural into man, the sword of God, the opening of the third eye, whose vision is projected towards the ends of the angelic world. Hail Regina Sine Labe Originali Spectam.

Decalogue II
Saint Gabriel

Vernarth you tied to a tree with canvases draws himself to the Angel in his name meaning "God is my strength". According to the Abrahamic religions and Judaism. As a result, she became known as "the messenger". Angel Gabriel continues to have a role in the world, helping both parents and human messengers. Blowing the trumpet to announce the return of the lord to Earth.

In his mediumship, the Archangel Gabriel inspires artists, singers, poets, writers, and dancers, helps them communicate on a spiritual level to recover inspiration, innocence, purity, and joy of living. From which this egregious Vernarth Travel Wheel is not exempt until it is consecrated in Patmos as a sacred and lay reference of a spiritual being in gestation. From here he will cultivate the dignity and the Abrahamic mothers so that they can accept their body, awakening in the souls the scriptural power and communicating vigorous forces, which facilitate overcoming fear and lack of decision in life. Sponsoring God's messages to those who worship him.

Vernarth violates the Xiphos sword's decree to shed blood, but rather to purify the gesture of shedding Faith that cuts hopelessness. United in the Templars gripped by their fellow men of the spiritual warfare that never loses, that is always ready to the limit.


Decalogue III
Two premises

From the first two decalogues, the third is born. Both by the glow of the first reactivates the other, which is a rectilinear light that surprises the dark light that tries to invade its luminosity. At very meager kilowatts, the years that separate the times of adding more vestiges of transcending on moral exercise unfold from intertwining; in such a way that in periods of frank over-excited navigation, the energy of the spirit is advanced, only measurable by the actions and intercommunications of the Angels and Archangels.
"Decalogues / ten analyzes" Assimilations of divine inspiration, which will contain ten components beyond an enumeration of premises that expose the visions when justifying a test. This decalogue includes maxims such as "The Angel is the fundamental value of Mystical Perseverance."


Decalogue IV
Where is the North

The North: Biblical scholars have suggested that the north symbolizes the permanent or the eternal, perhaps because the pole stars could be seen throughout the year. It is the place of God's heavenly habitation (Isa. 14:13) and from where his glory descends (Job 37:22) to bless or judge (Eze. 1: 4). He is the true King of the North. But the north, represented by the left hand, is also a symbol of disaster. The enemy of God's people came from the north (Jer. 1:14, 15; Eze. 38: 6), bringing destruction. In a sense, the enemy was the false king of the north who tried to usurp the role of God and who is ultimately destroyed by the Lord (Sof. 2:12; Dan. 11: 21-45). To see resting in Faith, the north does not distract your gaze, it blesses resting the whole concept that shakes the predisposition to arise to all merit given by physical unity, which I inhabit where I will rest, and the glory has to exalt me. Whoever comes from the north bringing destruction, will crash upon him, bringing reparation for the faith that rebuilds itself. The north is an anti-magnet, preventing what it cannot distort from itself in the Christian saying.


Decalogue V
The desert

Vernarth has to consume the desert like a placid arid and inhospitable place when swallowing it. There is nothing in his hands, not even the most elementary thing found. Where you suffer all kinds of discomforts: thirst and heat, inclement weather, sudden changes in temperature, sand discomfort, deprivation, and material deprivation; not only of the futile things but also of the most necessary. It must be supplied in large baskets to serve those who cultivate and protect it. The desert is a meek sheep in periods of drought when it never leaves you.

The physical reality of the desert can be like a symbol of the imminent spiritual life: it is the place of the detachment of everything superfluous; an invitation to austerity and a return to the essential. It is there where man experiences his fragility and his own limitations; the place of trial and purification. But also the most appropriate setting for a renewed and mature search for our personal encounter with God in prayer, in the silence of the soul, and in the simplicity of the essential. It is here that every symbol, more than all its significance, is transformed into a test of loneliness beyond all abundance of Faith, without even having to support it.


Decalogue VI
Vampirism

In the behavior of the person who acts like a vampire, that society prevails that the behavior is dissociated to whoever does it and not. Many vampire souls have made a pilgrimage for good. No one has been able to exclude them from the darkness and stop rising from the dead to roam the night in a bulky black cape and use long, sharp canine teeth to bite the victims' necks and **** their blood. But modern vampires tend to encounter problems of strict uniqueness such as not being happy, believing even more than by dying to them they are more than a fatal vampire. "We are all Vampires in eternity who deal with darkness and light, fear and courage."
Vampire in Sardinia is drinking the same blood and sprinkling it on the earth that nothing conceals or prescribes sin. Then a child appears, picks up the flower that germinates right there, and the cycle begins again.

“When I train myself in writing saying who I am, I only receive from the purulence of the multitudes, in centuries by centuries, not finding a basis to answer me. They say they do not know what to answer because there is no content that compares to those who have no Age, Life, or compassion. That I only have to communicate with the Strigoi messenger articulated with the souls of the dead who come out of their graves at night to terrorize the neighborhood. That it is the same as I condemned to sail and swarm the World of the Nosferatu aristocracy, a survivor of all human vanity, in all the empires of the World believing to live thousands of years without knowing who helped me, because few give me the option of giving what good of me ”


Decalogue VII
Holy incense

I breathe humid air from the superior deities; they opt for my forehead, as practices that replace those that are detonating to expel theirs. Rain of aromas alter or renew low-voltage emotions for high gods, like the Egyptians who used the most precious varieties of incense. These incense craftsmen, in the times of the Pharaohs, knew all the secrets for making high-quality incense. It has been verified that in some of the precious vessels found in the funeral chambers of Tutankhamun, they kept hundreds of kinds of incense that have still retained their magnificent aroma through the centuries. On Sheesham's bunk beds of fire. Wood and Incense with ultra sensory olfactory powers, to design elemental and supernatural hearts, to house and be adaptable to hyper-connectivity. In the Hindu religion, akasha is the foundation and essence of all things in the material world; the first palpable and concrete material element created by the god Brahmá (air, fire, water, earth are the others). "Here he sleeps without waking up when the morning doesn't wake up, and sleeps when the night doesn't get dark"


Decalogue VIII
Mythology

As mythology, it is called the set of myths typical of a people or culture. Myths, for their part, are narrations starring gods, heroes, or fantastic beings, who explain or give meaning to certain events or phenomena. The word, as such, and this in turn from the Greek μυθολογία (mythology) . Mythology, in this sense, is made up of the set of stories and beliefs, relatively cohesive, with which a people has traditionally explained itself. its origin and the reason for being of everything around it. Hence, we can affirm that mythology shapes the worldview or belief system of a culture. Vernarth from Sardinia where he never thought he was undoubtedly opens up belonging to this place more than the hundred millionth essence of his Being. It unites all the elements that melt together the liquid, aqueous, physical, gaseous, and aqueous., To form the mythology of a true verb of a parapsychological regression, like a great condiment that every mortal lacks as opposed to an immortal.
Alikantus paradigm of Alikanto on his astral journey just three days after climbing in Gaugamela...! The corners of anxiety buzz after lightening their igneous hooves by the slippery stones of the footsteps that seemed to be the same projections of their tasks that marked the Tracian soil before arriving at the request of their harangue. He resorts to Medea, before arriving in Thrace after wandering around different places in search of protection and advice to protect his master Vernarth. While He was submitting to his last opioid libations of vivid liliaceous from angiosperms encapsulated by his right pectoral. That was Alikanto's missive. Ask Medea for a potion so that she can supply her master to deflate his breastplate, and thus be able to use his Panoply breastplate in combat since there were three days left for the duel. Medea arrived in the city of Athens on a stormy day with great dark Dantesque gray on the palm of the cliff, previously escaping near the Abdera cliff, whose east was evacuating black poetry,.


Decalogue XIX
Falangist

As a tactical organization for war created in Ancient Greece and later imitated by various Mediterranean civilizations. ... The term is of Greek origin, φάλαγξ (phálanx), which was used for the defensive formation used by the Hoplites, who constituted the classical phalanx.
Almost at dusk over Zeus's beards, the Vernarth Phalanges begin to arrive. The Macedonian Phalanx or Macedonian Phalanx was an infantry formation created and used by Philip II, and later by his son Alexander the Great in the conquest of the Persian Empire. The Macedonian phalanx arose, in fact, as a response to the tactical modifications that the Theban strategists, Epaminondas and Pelópidas of ground forces, developed in the early 4th century BC. C. to oppose the superiority, although already decadent, that the Spartan hoplite formation had exerted in the land combats between the Greek cops until that date.
Nothing depresses me more than not delegating others as if they were my Falangists, making them participate in defending themselves against all disadvantages and worse punishment with the Panoply armor, a superb protector of those who has no defender. "God is my Breastplate, his Gospel protects me by never being damaged"


Decalogue X
Lepanto

Where I have to shelter, says Vernarth, hostility haunts me. Beautiful landscape that is swayed between the rushes of good that tries to be less bad. Policy judgments, how close to marketing peace, and so far from founding true poetry. Still, Vernarth crossed the waters and their customs. From Lepanto, Greece. He appeared exhausted with his eyes reddened by the gassed atmosphere that greeted them in Battle. Of whose intraterrestrial castes it was the one that was in his iron spirit and reappeared in his cape as a gesture of his personality. He arrived cracking the ****** floors of Tel Gomel when he arrived ... he was assaulted by a soldier who asked for mercy to extend his bad fortune. Lepanto is a pre-military senatorial seat, and a great preparatory to the charms of the drama of my duties that will be in Patmos, never-ending dramas.

Falangist: With his helmet in his hands and the Dorus on his cloak on the ground tells him; every single thing I tried the double edge of my sword stained him. The top sheet notified me that my family in Kalidona was in a state of irregularity since my two older children were called to serve in the militias. And the second edge of my lower Dorus I bow before the meanest preciousness of that of observing with a good spirit to cooperate, now with the callousness of my soul that overcomes it exploiting and dragging my wife as easy spoil. I know that my descendants were buried under the effect of the cataclysm of Pompeii in the future. All will emigrate and then flee when they are devastated and the unwelcome comrades return to reintegrate into the Santa María festival. The Patron Saint who consoled me, but prepared me for the resistance of such bad fortune, that one day she would let herself fall with my crops in the culture of peasant angels in fruits and devotions. I sobbed and sobbed rubbing my animals through my empty eyes day and night. They did it next to me, with the singularity of not affecting me; they went to the nearest stream to sob for me so that I would not be affected by the fatal annihilation.

Epilogue
Patmos and Saint Gabriel

Once installed with the vision of visionary brotherhood that characterizes its filial union with Reader and Petrobus. It will begin in its mediumship with the Archangel Gabriel who inspires artists, singers, poets, writers, and dancers, helps them communicate on a spiritual level to recover inspiration, innocence, purity, and joy of living. As an input of character to validation the function of the Troubadour, Juggler, or Visionary. If it were not for the written and not musical notes, nothing would be more than a vision of being closer to almost hyper-reality, established by the prophecies as historical and religious support. With this last decalogue, Vernarth establishes that one in the work of oneself remains the summary of the prototype of the work. And from the work, the summary that allows the common man to be erected, who in his free will, does not deny, but rather power his unshakable satiety of science in his prostrated soul, under the key of dogma and questioning?
Hildegard Von Bingen has sparked the interest of many scholars, mainly because it seems to contain a major contradiction with respect to the rest of his statements about his visionary experience. In that absence of ecstasy that characterizes the visionary experience of Hildegard von Bingen, It also figures the fundamental difference that separates it from its contemporary Elisabeth von Schönau, and some scholars based this fact to deny it a mystical character and grant it the attribute of prophetic. The attention of this specific passage obeys its comparison with Saint John the Evangelist. The understanding of itself seeks a model, a referent, whose wide field of meaning has to be reconstructed in order to restore the full meaning of this statement. The analysis will stop at the following aspects:

1. In the gesture through which Saint John is shown, and by which Hildegard associates herself with the evangelist and, as we will see, according to the identifications of the time, with the beloved disciple of Christ and with John of Patmos, the author. of the apocalypse.

2. Hildegard's identification with Juan de Patmos will lead us to a comparison of both visionaries focused on the modes of their representation.

3. Finally, the content of the images will be reflected on from an example, hoping that all of this will be concluded with a sharper profile of Hildegard von Bingen's visionary experience.
Vernarth says: “I wander from the stony ruins in Sardinia, to go in search of those who gave rise to themselves. When I thought about believing to create them, they presented themselves to me as a whole that prophesies Creation. ”
DECALOGUE  VERNARTH
CharlesC May 2013
for all of us
non-mathematicians
this for our grasp..
there are structures
which are discovered
not invented..
those notations
1 + 1 = 2
these are inventions..
behind these garments
math reality lies
which includes all
especially you..!
the math guy says
Reality = Relationship
all around
up and down...
the math guy:
Max Tegmark
CLStewart Jul 2015
On the phone and in a row boat...

It was there for the taking and they took it. Love lust and warm em-brace.
Faces in the dark whispers joy intellect speaking miles upon miles- they were the ******.
To change a generation and build upon past memoirs notations poetry prose literature - swindling no one. In the deep they did swim

In the deep they did swim to find each other
In the deep they did swim breaking into paper huts and liquor bottles
In the deep they did swim

INVENT- INVENT -INVENT!

In the deep they did swim casting away the structures that were built for them- but not by them
In the deep they did swim live wires of truth  justice  perseverance  principles
In the deep they did swim

What of Whitman!  What of Geoffrey Chaucer!  
What of social demand!

In the deep they did swim with no thirst for consequence
In the deep they did swim for life's love eroticism passion of words
In the deep they did swim



...for the beat generation
Nat Lipstadt Feb 24
To:  Patty m. and Steve,
cc:   Q

Re: what’s a mediocre man to do,

(freshly mind washed by the
requisite hours of deep sleep,
that washed away the webs
and dreads of yesterday’s
factoids, lactoids, and brain plaques(

so he can perchance, begin again,

(with fresh slate, white chalk screeching
on a freshly sponged whiteboard
~
(or blackboard when he rues the
upcoming with dreaded calendar
notifications notarized notations of
dead lines)


You see Stevie,
this piety poetry piercing of the soul,

(is a daily face washing, soul scrubbing
of two spies (MadMe vs  Metwo) both madder ‘n hell that life has ***-signed him a nother bothersome empty day with the curse
of justifying his existence)

oh yeah baby,
it’s a contest, a contest within,

(and i am appointed and  disappointed to be
the Sec’y of the Interior who has the key to
the broom closet, and is/in charge of his
own corners cleanup, and besides a broom,
he ain't got no tools but stale words and he’s gotta figure out nice smelling new combos to
justifying his occupying his
siloed-sole-soully space place)

in the uni(as in sole, one)verse

universe verse, get it?
445am Monday Monday
Faced with Vernarth's temporary absence, Sardinia continued in flames of lilting water, re-integrating itself into albuminoids in whom it saw it depart, it continued in the liturgy with monophonic ideologies, appropriate to the elemental, transfigurative, and regressive parapsychological trance. They had been divided into several identitarian personalities, they could be almost instructed to leave for Piacenza to join Raeder and Petrobus, so that later they could undock to the Dodecanese to expand the conurban folio brogues with San Juan Evangelista. They meet with Etréstles and the participating confreres who arrived at the Tholos in the morning. They were all asleep, except Etréstles who was starching a few sheets of bread dough and tzatziki sauce from breakfast. Meanwhile, they had sacred fire heating with sacred water for everyone. Vernarth approaches, and says Khaire, he answers, a joy to see you!

Vernarth says: “Beloved brother Etréstles, I have already taken the notations to begin the decalogue. Today in the afternoon we will board the sailboat and we will leave for Piacenza, we are in the conclusive oblation. In the Izanna tower, I cried out to the Rings of Zefian and to the domains of the Universe, to be exhibited and empowered to make the signs of the Decalogue and its blessed essences that Live in all the Ages of time and in their vicissitudes. Everyone begins to spur his panoramic vision, they look at him and wave, they sit in the circle analogous to the Tholos to eat breakfast. Meanwhile, outside the refuge they felt Apollonian horns moving in the symmetry of the three minutes piloting through the Thracian skies from the Kairós period, in such a way that in the last sound of the Doric scale the storm will segregate, providing beginnings in each one to board the Carrenio or Carro de Oro that will take you to the Cala Cogone pier. They all say goodbye and hug, Vernarth tells his brother Khaire!

Canto Sibila Cimera: (bis) customized the symbols of the arranged ceremonial, forging classic gestures of prodigality, it was nothing less than a cornucopia given to the zephyr of the Ultramundis, which was revolutionized in the boss around that trembled in the stony epidermis that they dressed in the stalls of the final tubule of the 103 meters, intervening with Kairós. The pharyngeal muzzle of her steed suckled the aforementioned inclinations of Likantus that harassed him like a beast, consuming the final discretion of Theseus, to finish the page of his father Aegean, breaching the sentence of his son and evading him from his stepmother Medea . From this show business, Theseus took root with his mother Etra, being the right moment for Kairós from the vibrating Panatenaicus: “enlightened people are those who handle well the circumstances they face every day, who have the judgment that is necessary on special occasions or in meetings that may arise, and they rarely miss the opportune course of action for their decalogue ”.

Kairos conferred aired in the logic of Aion, transcending the explicit time of eternity, administering tubular of time that began to be lost in space, usurping chromatic nuances of Cinnabar. The woodcut of the Olive Tree Berna brought in its oratory meanings that built undivided earrings when witnessed and persuaded them in decalogues that they had to administer with the value of Polis, and with the Prepon at once for his stylistic oratory that makes conviction in his attempt transcribing the Decalogue literal. In the migratory cove of Kairós, time was self-manipulated, absorbed in the spaces of the tunnel near the sinkholes, which were regulated by burning with ocher in the turbulent outbuildings of the Cinnabar, which began to scald fumaroles after Vernarth's rhetorical Prepon. Kairos phenomena were sought, sacralizing times to make them majestic from a field of appropriate eloquence, and of spiky synchrony towards his roles in all the void of the cavern.

The seasons began to disintegrate towards a white of Kairós Elafrós Rodóchrous, in pink inflections that represent the terrors of the climatic hot red, thriving in the subdued attractions of Cronos. The order of Áullos Kósmos made Elafrós Rodóchrous, the pinkish character for the metaphors of the musqueta, which yearns to be calico lilies fading in the proof custodians of Tique; Goddess of fortune, bringing him the winged breakers of the Mediterranean, lost in the usurping ships of the kingdoms and seas that bowed in billions of tonnages per cubic meter, with thick aqueous elements from the massifs of Kavkazski and Khrebet. Thus the avid heirs of time in Profitis Ilias would be frugal Armas  Christi, bustling around with their winged feet and soaked in thick black water, making themselves immaculate by glorifying themselves on Virolifera level 197, amid dense and rebellious masses of black mud, accelerating in the media opportune transcending of the time of Kairos, converting a minute of light into an infinite time in the oratorios of the high-sounding decalogue as it merges with the Deitie Primordial of the cosmogony that arose from its geodynamics, and in the invariable sigh of the Virolifero de Zefian, sealing the beginning of the world as a conditioning ring of the Whole.
Codex ** - Ultramundis Kairos
Dawn of Lighten Nov 2015
I rang the door bell as I step in the front of the door,
And gaze upon my work iPad to check for work order notations.

As I scroll upon the repair ticket,
there was bold letters,
And it read "ATTENTION Technician,
be patient with the customer,
She went through medical procedure!"

I hear a faint female voice from afar end of her house,
stating she was coming!

Inhaled dawning air with chill in my lung
While exhaled steam and vapor from my lips!

Never knew waiting per minute can feel like eternality,
And my surrounding became more intensified with movement of breeze!  

After waiting for 5 minutes,
finally the door opened,
And the lady was in her robes,
But had her hair done and make up on.
Customer then asked me where was the original installer,
And she specifically asked for his return.
She spoke with few pauses,
And slight fragmented sentences,
Then proceed to tells me she had a stroke,
And plead that I would be patient with her!

Already I wasn't her expected technician,
And I knew I had a large shoe to fill with her disdain,
While dealing with her medical situation!  

As I started my trouble shooting processes,
I asked for more information,
And explore the cause of system failure!

Knowing I needed to give her comfort during her dialogue,
I gave her my nods,
and listen to her intently.
While trying to get to the point,
But spoke less to avoid confusing her.
Until I can drop her guards,
And have a normal conversation during repair process,
So there wouldn't be awkward pauses!

Slowly but surely she began to tell me little bit about herself,
How she met husband from her friends,
And she was originally from Sri Lanka.
How lonely she gets in Kentucky not having real friends,
And in my mind I could only related to her circumstance,
But I over came it by finding my inner peace,
Which is finding a home in the present moments.

Knowing the struggle to understand what it meant to be a nationalist,
Or assimilating into American culture,
I began by asking her where is her comfort zone,
Or who makes her comfortable?

She tells me her husband,
and how much she loved him.

So then your husband is your home I told her,
And I let her know home isn't a four wall with a roof,
But it is a moment in present giving her comfort of a home.

at this moment,
my thought process became like a cat,
And like a cat my curiosity needed to be quenched.
I asked how she got the stroke.

There was a holding breathe from her,
And then her emotions erupted.
"I have a brain tumor" she tells me,
Accelerated by her cancer.
I don't know how long of a time I have left,
And her uncertainty of her life made her more afraid.
There was a desperateness in her tears.
I wanted to give her a hug,
And give some relief from her anguish.

In that moment of her desperation,
My training from senior housing kicked in.
Changed my subject back to her comfort zone!
"Please, tell me more about your husband I asked,
How did you two meet?"

She starts to get her composure back,
And wipes her tears.
As she spoke I see glistening of her eyes,
And she spoke with love.

After I finished with my repair
and heading out of the customer's house!
The lady thanked me
and then told me she wanted to tell her husband about home!

I gave her my smile,
Then lightly tapped on my chest with my palm,
then moved my hand onto my head.
Reminder to her,
home is in your heart and mind!
Just reflecting upon one of the repair I did couple month ago, and I hope  that customer is still doing well!
Alexandrina Nov 2013
Don't think about dating a boy
who cares about compliments and approval
from other people on the internet,
even if he is just joking around.
He isn't really.

Don't think about dating a boy
who was recently in a long running relationship
or who has had a history of an on and off one
You will end up writing about being
the in-between girl
who's never enough.
He will likely get back with her
or find someone other then you.

Don't think about dating a boy
who smokes a lot of ****, you don't honey.
You will end up hating him
because of who he is
and you shouldn't
he chooses to live differently than you
that does not make him or you wrong.
He will not change nor will you.

Don't think about dating a boy
who gets onto you for not believing in certain things.
If he makes you feel inferior,
do not take that.
You are your own person
there is no right way to live one's life.
The right way is the way you choose
and that which makes you happy.

Don't think about dating a boy
until you have learned to love
every imperfection society tells you
your body contains.
Until you turn the scars on your wrists
into musical notations
writing a symphony of joy and pain.

Don't think about dating a boy
if he isn't enough of what you need
and you aren't yet happy.

The boy can wait, so can you.
Aravind Shanavaz Nov 2021
The endless pondering of Fridays,
Spills into the late night.
Precious time lost,
Losing light.

While the city is in love,
People on the street corners,
Friends, lovers and everything in between.
Here I am on my work week,
Waiting for the 8th day.

Stay with me but no,
Things I wish were said comes back to me.
A burst of tears and laughter,
Trying to douse the loud sirens in my head.

Lost on me,
Todays society.
Unending conversations,
Quotes and notations,
A web of scattered nullity,
Clouds all over my senses.

Here lies.
David Nelson Aug 2011
Ye Royal Flush

I had been honored by a perfect queen
to be chosen with intent as her lover
her majesty treated me like a king
my desires celebrated under sheet and cover

the dark green meadow filled by leaping lords
ladies in waiting for the ace of obligations
henceforth summoned by the jack of hearts
10 times on old Big Ben making his notations

her lady tired of internal stress and strain
I now was asked to go quietly with a hush
as all the cards had now been gathered up
I was subjected to Ye Royal Flush    

Gomer LePoet ....
Pagan Paul Sep 2020
.
The vessel was empty. It was always empty.
The vessel was a body. A Nobody.
Too young to fend for itself yet abandoned to face
the onslaught of a life unprepared for.
It was a satellite, a burden, an unwanted encumbrance
upon the lives of those that spawned it.
Those that should guide, educate, encourage and love.

The emptiness had begun early
and grown into a void of isolated disfunction.
The ship of emotion sailing into a dark sunset
and the cold loneliness of night seeps easy
into the vessel already devoid and senseless.

There had been early years but forgotten
were the vessels memories and experiences.
An era of ancient history with no notations,
undocumented and lost in the ether.
No sense of belonging or conformity
were instilled by those meant to teach.
Instead the blind vessel gropes dangerously
around a world unfamiliar.
To make sense of existence.
To justify its worth.

But worth is subjective.
Of no worth to its peers it protects itself
absorbing the cloak of the worthless.
A litany harshly reinforced by cruelty
dealt out by the tongues of resentful tormentors.

And so left to its own devices
attachment becomes an arbitrary concept.
The revolving door  of brief and useless association.
Meaningful liaisons few and far between
as its walls provide protection from feeling hurt.
So the vessel was a body. A Nobody.
And the vessel was empty. It was always empty.
Always... always... empty.


© Pagan Paul (Aug 2020)
.

— The End —