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Vivian Oct 2012
i feel
like a subplot
in a forgotten movie
most of the time

because my decisions usually aren't mine
and my thoughts get plucked like spring's petals
too early to be appreciated
and not still enough to be captured
Jeremy Betts Feb 2024
Suicide?
Hold on, I'm sorry,
Are you referring to the barbaric act of hands-free ****** by an inhouse intruder implementing a vicious, self-righteous onslaught
No?
Oh...
Cause that's what I got
That's not what you were taught?
You didn't know each and every thought could be on loop and fraught with a dangerous taunt
No one told you you'd also most likely be the only one within earshot?
It's just thought after thought after thought after thought
And it's nonstop like the whistle of an ignored teapot that's gotten too hot
I ask myself, "is there such a thing as an inner dialogue clot?"
Rhetorical of course, knowing full well that there's not
It'd be pretty helpful though would it not?
A majority of this agony doesn't even seem to originate from an internal spot
But it's held against me that they recklessly destroy all I've fought for as well as rewriting the plot
Turning me into my own distraught subplot
Filming redesignated to the back lot of Salem's Lot
Making sure to make it known I'll only have this one shot
I swear y'all think I was told to bring what I'm gonna need and this is what I brought
So I fillet both wrists and expose the rot
Hoping to relay visually what verbally I cannot
Live stream it for a live audience or not
Copious shallow minds will still produce the same shallow thought
"You either want to be here or not"
Not knowing it has so little to do with want
"You ought to change the way you think"
Oh right, you're right, I must have forgot
OOOOOR
or
Is it that I've been convinced I can not?
Yeah...yeah, that's the caveat
I'd give everything to hit the reset like a robot
But the treason contains some carefully wrought deception that's sent in like S.W.A.T.
Keep that standard victim blaming line you walk taut
It's easier to walk that, is it not?
That's what I thought
Everyone knows the Rorschach test is just an inkblot
I watch in disbelief as my well-being resorts back to just another afterthought
The outlier is no one witnesses the slipping of the knot
There'll be no extension of a helping hand intervention to salvage this broken man by trying to help him reconnect a dot
Because I've lost connection with every dot
A reality checked on the spot
They continue debating amongst each other if it'd be easier to boycott
I bought in, hook, line and sinker,
I should have seen the bait and switch comin' do to all the times prior
THIS IS NOT WHAT WAS SOUGHT!
But here I am,
I guess it's my turn to like it or not

©2024
Both sides of the Arbela militia remained frosty, failing to tear the wrath of the throne from the depths of the charter and from the expropriation of the votive temple, in view of the strength of leaders who were reinserted and rewritten from the plaster of Parnassus, where the beatifices Mortals are seen competing without having references or additions in the washer that predominated by chance referring to athletes and gladiators who were not, but today they could be spiked in the crushing Syntagamatarchos table, captaining two units all with their abdomen semi open, re liquidating again the entrails by the Ghosts of Shiraz, who came from Roknabad (also known as Aub-e Rokní), from an underground channel that carried water from the spring to the city from a mountain located ten kilometers northeast of Profitis Ilias, from where until then they were commanded, with dispatches of their designs before a voluntary prodigy that emancipates a perplexed Meltem i that he was haphazardly swirling in the funerary fields, but descriptive of returning to the fields their souls, which abstained after ephemeris towards a knowledge resigned to abide by it, and to get rid of transcendental limitations commanded by his blowing, and not his body that was clouded before the conspicuous epistemological reason flashed and relaxed when comforting them for having to calibrate their bones when they returned to Mosul. The Colosso pedestals were breaking when it intimidated everyone to flee to their homes, in this way it calmed them down from the quicksilver of the world that was no longer their typical dwelling, from a dwelling of transit to a story that deals with the flys that are they hover, pretending to be the same, banishing themselves from the pain that rises up the cervical spine and that dismisses the ridiculous voices of Aeschylus with their acting choruses that they seemed dilapidated in cries impossible to personify. The ******* brave pieces of deployment began to drain from the secondary positions of the penultimate physicalities of suffering that one felt without being affected, rather it manifested itself in the contents of an essential muscular container, of the subsistence of the cosmos installed in what does not think nor decide on its retraction. Vernarth and Alexander the Great knelt in front of the larnax of the torments of mercy, like ***** language that lashes out rhetoric in rebellions of thousands of hoplites who expiated themselves from their hands, empty spiked race contained in the perjury of Zeus, enrolled in apocryphal images in tombs of those who were going to be faced with pseudo refractory that was recluses of the fleshless breath, but anarchic when trying to return to their places of origin of warlike Tikun.

The traits of annihilation were shed from buried reanimates that became slime in the reverie of a mythological God who never accompanied them and invited them from a cohabiting sun, which was only the fantasy of irresistible permutations. It should be noted that the subplot was in intangible interfaces that would never be stitched together as an annexed story, but the words of parapsychology were captained by themselves more than the sub plotline that transcended the apostrophe of death, and the Pronoia of the Peri Kousmos. The doors of Patmia were finally released and speculative vines re-flowered were Lotos and Astragalus, as courtesies of Operandi and impairment that replaced the ****** elderberry, with chalks that made the winter raging when Persephone rampaged what was merely monthly erratic of those who exiled her. The senses of Patmos were the property of his Institution, which was what it is and is not, for a holistic consequence of fast ideology but of minimal intuition, which lay in multiple reasons for tissues that were filled with crop fields, animals in Magna prairies that agreed to serve the man who loved him, in which the causes were two meters before the limen that sent her off the cliff in other causes of confusion, in a real creation of zoological Hellenic neuroscience, where all forms of mythology were made of submithology, always at the side of man but this time redeemed from the origin and cause, they only persevere to offend a certain space of ignorance where the like all prevaricated by large amounts subordinate to their lineage, in the kingdom of paradises from which only animals protect the doors that only Cerberos and Cherubim open, scrutinizing food for them and making use of them.

Patmos was remade of all the waterfalls that completed the rigors of the precept, and not the chaos that subordinates cognition to make night day or day night, pouring specimens that were and will be ignored but extremely useful for the preservation of the body of the unsupported objective and sumptuous, but of a systemic nature that does and sustains it. The Souls of Helenikká and Trouvere graced all the inhabitants towards a comprehensive evolution of the ***** of dreams, giving it the fruits of conservation where the lords of the future will have to bow to the laborious principle of the Mashiach, conciliating the arrest of the stars and not of what is reactive of an invasive action. Thus ended this subplot rhetoric of intuitive formality and metaphysical channeling character, leading them through plumbing that led from what was coming out from the Raedus Codex, from the wind tunnel, and what was coming in from here identical to its elevation towards the direct apotheosis of the Megaron that was splendid in four composition buttresses with more than two drops of laudanum, which will be insignificant ***** to save the cosmos from falls of vitality in the conclusion of Vernarth.

Saint John the Evangelist after several sleeping episodes of his spiritual experience, reappears in the sucker of modality and intentions that the drops of laudanum manifested to fill the pain of Vernarth's tragedy, and those that are manifested to him that they became resurrected entelechies of component solutions speculative, that were reborn from certain internal devastations, and that returned vague automata to the Achaemenids that emerged from the depths of this professorial subplot, to bring them with the simplicity of lexicons that were loving realities that would lie behind the veils of illusion, transgressing properties of a totalizing daphnomancy. Due to his parliament, Áullos Kósmos eliminated himself braided from the road when he expresses fatigue and regret, calming the reasons in the flight from himself. He starts from demoralization and hidden impotence of the Hoplite that would not come out of himself, because it is a frenzy of consternation that makes him start from the unshakable grief of his compassion, without reaching the surface of the ethical plane.
Battle of Patmia Part VI
Jeremy Betts May 2023
Enjoy the mocking tick after tock from the clock as the hands race monotony just to land on a preoccupied spot, no over shot
Reality not taught, reason is a subplot, lost in translation was the caveat, what's the grand plan for this life span time forgot
Avoiding deaths cousin, the sandman, only shortened the journey to the grand finale at the bottom of a grave plot, a hateful fate fought
Thought I ought not move to avoid falling through the bottom of all rock bottoms due to the dry rot, a quicksand sandbox in back of Salems lot
Rescue or recovery a long shot, no one within earshot but there's an onslaught of inner dialogue piercing the void like the scream of a red hot teapot
As is common with the distraught I sought help from the cold embrace of a slipknot that grew taut through the progression of this thrown together plot of a should've been cancelled pilot
Don't ask me what I see in this blind study of an inkblot, any sanity you got would crumble if caught up in the web of nightmare fuel my own mind went ahead and brought
Forced to boycott my being, can't connect good story lines, lost a dot, popped a squat in a thousand watt recliner like a pre-programmed self destruct robot
Self-preservation an afterthought, miles out to sea before I realized I've not yet bought a yacht, treading water in a tough spot
Messed around and got so high I got caught in the sky like a drifting astronaut lost in space, tethered to a dead cosmonaut
A crackpot juggernaut of supreme disappointment, walk the walk and take a potshot at a what not to do mascot
Cross my i's and dot t's with the underutilized comic sans faunt that don't nobody want, awoken by the taunt of a witching hour haunt
"Fuuck the record and fuuck the people!" like you heard from Snot, you'll probably be hearing it from me a lot
Before I become a forget-me-not long forgot but go or stay, either way, still dangerous as a traveling blood clot
The good fight was not fought, this life was not sought, everyone seems to have it together, I'm the biggest have not on the block
Do with that what you will, I'm going on a long walk down a short dock with a giant rock in each sock
Then the plan is to mock god to his face and see the shock on his face as I say I could do better and see if I get the morning stars spot

I mean, why not? It's worth a shot

©2023
Jeremy Betts May 2024
Find conviction in your answer
And hold it forever
To hold you together
Through the bad weather
That seems to go on forever
Never getting any better
Never wantin' to become a trend setter
I'd rather avoid a subplot endeavor
A standard cease and desist letter
An awkward deliverer
Of an ignorable order
Internal by nature
From a habitual quitter

©2025
No subplot, no agenda, and no guile.
Yes, there are people who are naturally this way.
Blithe souls, who are confused by
subterfuge, willfulness and meanness.
It is not a lack of intelligence.
No, not at all.
Perhaps excessive empathy
and original innocence.
You may think them fools.
Perhaps they are, or maybe blind.
Or do they see too deeply?
Sometimes you'll see one as a child.
See them watching serenely
As the other children play.
But far from spectators, they
often excel at many things.
They see the pain suffered
And wonder why we hurt each other.
The more they see, the more
they are confused.
Still they watch, and try
to comfort and console.
They try to understand-
and never will.
This world is not their home.
Laurel Leaves Oct 2017
So anyway
the world seems to fit this specific rotation
where I found myself sitting on this bar stool
ordering
well you know,
not alcohol because,
that one thing my body does so well
is shut down
start peeing blood
not process anything
it just kind of gives up,
constantly,
I mean you remember,
that time you took me to the ER,
How I couldn't stand up and they kept telling me it was going to be ok
but I just looked at you and bleakly smiled because I knew it wasn't
this is my
slow decline
incredibly painful,
younameit

so,

clearing my throat and saying
"just put some fizzy water in a glass and throw a lime in it, it's not that hard and don't look at me like that"


The dive bar
God, it was your dive bar
they were even playing that one song you
played for me on the car stereo
the happy one,
the one I always picture you driving with your one hand on the steering wheel
sun shining on us
that ******* one
and the bartender she rolled her eyes, walked off


I saw this reflection in the mirror
the one right behind the bar
while the neon red light
illuminated my eyes
in that moment
this whiskey taste hit the back of my throat
your sweat, your voice,
all of it, taking over my entity
without my consent I was stuck in
the notes that stung
tickled my tonsils
I could feel you
I swear
you had to have been sitting in this exact spot
an hour or so ago
and the reflection was so used to
you filling this space
it almost just shot an image back of you
at me

I wanted to call you
write you
send you one of those long emails
we used to spend hours typing to each other
to seem profound
to rationalize our mental health by simply stating
"well,
we're writers"
but then I remembered the last thing you said to me
it was more of a question
and I thought about
how selfish that was
"can
we
still..?"
the anger just bubbled from there

it rose to my chest
and I lifted my hand up and said
"actually can you make it a whiskey?"
"a double?

..?"
and I waited for her to roll her eyes again,
walk to the bar,
grab the cheapest well whiskey I've ever seen
and pour it heavy over two ice cubes


You would have liked that.
Im sure you're ordering that right now.

I pulled the shot back
waited for it to hit
quickly requested a Lyft to the nearest hospital

because I knew
in
ten minutes
it would
send me spiraling
and I would be there again
in that same room
where you laid still
and I tried to sleep
to not ***** on you
to kind of just pretend this wasn't a memory
I'd have to actively force myself to forget
as I frequented the same sterile supplies
day in
day out


the room where you chewed on the words
and spit them back out at me
detailing the world I actively live in
the one where
where my body is a ticking time bomb
and not a subplot for your novel

but as I rode with the windows rolled down

I still missed you
I hated myself
I wanted another whiskey
I wanted that reflection again
because at least


that would make this all
feel closer
This would all make a little more sense
and maybe I could forgive you
forgive myself
stop recreating each moment
like I was stuck in a perpetual hell
Because it had to have meant something
it shouldn't just sting.
*******.
Nicole S Aug 2017
Take a look at me.

Wonder how I got here.

No, really- wonder,
don't assume,
because maybe that's humanity's
biggest problem.
Everybody thinks they're smart enough
to tell the story just by looking at its cover.

I am white. I am so white it's painful,
so pale I know the frustration
of never having found a foundation
in my color,
of having to settle,
of being too much of an inconvenience
to make a shade for.
But there is privilege in this;
there is no denying that,
none whatsoever,
and please know:  I am not denying anything.  
I can't.  It is true.
My privilege is skin deep,
bone deep,
inescapable and ever evident,
but it did not get me here today.
Not entirely.

Because no matter how white I am,
my soul has never fit in.
It must be a motley of colors.
I am so white,
yet I'm not white enough-
eating alone and wearing the wrong clothes,
unable to read music
because we couldn't afford piano lessons,
and now that we have the money for birthday parties
no one will ever come.

I am ten shades less tan
than the preferred caucasian
and they will never, ever let me forget it.

I am judged the moment someone sees my family
because suddenly, the puzzle pieces must fit-
that's why she's successful,
she's a rich white girl-
except fortunate parents doesn't automatically
mean you get everything,
doesn't mean I didn't do chores,
doesn't ever mean I got paid for A's
or that college help was guaranteed.

I had to earn it.  
A's were expected, chores a duty,
allowances non-existent.
I fought for my success and only then
was I promised assistance
to get through college without drowning in bills,
yet even then
I still had six figures to consider
and weeks' worth of scholarship papers
just to make it out with anything to my name.
Privilege was present,
but privilege was not the reason
I won enough scholarships
to make it through.
I worked.
(It is possible for a white woman to work,
as much as I've heard that it isn't.)

My skin won't tell you that I've suffered,
quite the opposite.
My skin won't admit the times
that I pulled at it, hated it,
the days I wanted to make my pallor permanent
and the day gooseflesh trembled
beneath a blade.
It can't tell you about the tears
or the panic attacks
or the abandonment or depression or inexplicable grief
for joy I never knew,
belonging I never experienced,
and privilege that could not protect me from assault
or hatred,
because most of you wouldn't be listening anyway.

I promise,
there are reasons for my self-loathing.

But you won't know it,
won't even realize it exists as a subplot,
if you refuse to open my book
and learn my story
because my cover is white.

You won't realize that
I am scared to let my friends meet my family.
You won't know I've lost friends after they have.

You won't know that I care,
that I'm angry too,
so furious my teeth are cracking
but I can't say a word.
I am not supposed to.
I have been scolded for it.

Everyone says
not to judge a book by its cover,
yet they still do,
tossing novels aside every day
because their binding is displeasing.
Maybe some of the authors before me
wrote horrible stories,
but you stand to discover an unexpected favorite
if you can give others a chance.

And you stand to find a fellow motleyed soul
by opening that shiny new book you can't trust,
don't want to trust,
and testing the waters of the first delicate page.
I was terrified to post this; my friend finally talked me into it. She said people needed to hear it, that I needed to say it. Before anyone assumes, she is not white.

Society is never going to get anywhere if we don't listen to each other.
I can see the world breathing/
I could taste its voice/
I could hear it's vision/
I could feel its voids/
It's souls wheeling/
A cacophony of noise/
its emotional temperament discernings of cause/
It's pause ...
the paw prints of remorse/
No back tracking off/
Of contractual clause/
Bombastic elegance/
Its hurt its negligence/
The happening evident/
Hell earths been telling us/
It cries over deserts
Left stranded flooded meadows/
metals for war valor/
Tenured long as a/
What ever doesn't matter/
Preceding Creation Adam/
Before eves mislead
By the snake
Before the egg e.g. I.e./
It Seems a bit peeved/
We've deceived, dissected/
with out second guessing/
satirical in our measures/ Exponentially aggressive/
therefore when it shakes/
I awake/
like a break/

In the force/

Disturbance
lack of faith

intuition
a link missing
gut feeling somethings off/
from the source all resource/
allows us resourceful
cold where it's hot
clouds where it's not/
depleted eradicated non aggregated subplot/
poisonous crops
circles from the top/
aerial perplexed/
hurricane vortex/
Tornadoes stream jet
Winds increasing/
warmness global warning the atmosphere half gone and/
the hemisphere ozone
Soon gone/
The stratosphere space
Full of space
earth race
done/
finish disintegrated diminish exceeded thine limits/
I wonder who won?
You did not defend me.
What happened in that moment
Was a test of character
And if this was a book
You wouldn’t even be
a supporting character
Not a sidekick.
Not a subplot.
Not even mentioned in the acknowledgements.
You are a footnote
In a chapter I’ve already turned.
As you read along
Some stories may have a subplot
There may be a connection of some sort
For others to figure out
This may twist the reader's mind
And bring about a juxtaposition
Dreams and happenings
May enable to enhance one's vision
Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
Startle response! Wake--

When danger is ante
cipated,0h
--0n
lego-h-overedge aver
age
verbage re sighin'

clinging vines from debunked strings and
threads twisted wit'em.

Assume, if ye may or plea or will as
ye wont, pray means ask.

That's all.
Here, wit'afewmisstook aitches and spaces:
here is what we got,

a fresh secret story, un concerning anything you
believed you believed of/from/about idea ifify ie able ity ness

Reason requires response, Will Robinson.
Hidden persuaded, almost,
but lost...

Really,
what sacrifice bought
young John Carson to sublimnal
top 0'the mind status,
for the first two tv
generations?

Who do you trust? Carson's tv game
show debut, aimed at after school,
junior high, latch key,
wait staff on swing shift or graveyard,
the entire set of doin' nuttin'
'round Tea, fancy goin'

head t' head wit' Mickey Mouse Club,
on all the UHF stations out west.

It's 1957, who do you trust?
Time's man o'the year,
The Hungarian Freedom Fighter Idea,
the first stiffed
equal-value re
belicose cold war victim
of the famine for the grammar
of kindness and good sense
associated with DNA,
little green apples, puppy dogs,the
straight up command to love them that hate ye,
enemies and other words for folk
who would just as soon **** you
as hear one more word
about peace.

VOG,
words were scrambled,
christic crypt vacuum
tube
signal to noise ratio, caliber calculater pro
jection on to the rerewall o'yeardamnedbrain,

VOG Cancel
Bozo. This ad will **** for us. We can own the
'earts and minds of every grammar 'ater ever.

Since Babel, since Eber 'is 'ebrew ef-
fective, fervent...strainer at jots and tittlishit
self.

This ad makes mistook rules po'man laughable,
punch'n'judy'ishit:

Whom
do you trust, the grammarian so like so many
Deweyish proguess
edumacated teachers, you had this teacher,

squint, wrinkle nose, tight jibbs
frameless wire rimmed specs, a greying bun,

flower print dress wit' the weest bit o'lace,
lipless snide corrector's face. A trope archetype,
heroes re
bel
on demand, that was the plan. It
started with

AN AD. Who do you trust? Black and white,
Here's Johnny standing under the billboard,
y'know,
for the show, standin' like *******, shoulders
shrugged, palms up, elbo's bent

(contenintal suit, note the skinny tie, why?)
Who do you trust? Innocent grin, wordless
"Who knows?" or "knew"?

Whodjewtrust, in 1957? Cronkite, nicht wahr?
See the USA in the USA

in yo' Chevrolet, ole!
Yew should try Ritalin, for pep.

Take Serutan tonight, and sleep, safe and restful,
sleep, sleep sleep

VOG (Scourby) and, remember Serutan is Natures,
spelled backwards. Cue the choir,

safe and restful, sleep, sleep fade away

----
Where were you in 1962? Off t'college,
watchin' Johnny of Johnnies,

Johhny Quest, Johnny Lighting, Johnny Carson on

Tonight, there's more...
after the news, the dayroom in the dorm,

this is whence the quips in the quad were to be
sharpened wit'

fashion able ible tips, to fit the Esquire *** Hef
uniform dress code of mutual hidden

persuadeds.

Some souls were spared the spread of the
original tv virus, VHF, couldn't penetrate
the canyon...never subjected
to Howdy Doody,
our brains were spared the
complexes planted via the sit
com cowboy war subplot
phase of novus ordo
secluremishitistcal
experiments in
alientated
mind control.
We lived in the desert, in a place

a lot like Oscar's Oasis,
a wordless Korean Cartoon
set in a desert much like mine. On Netflix, 2019.

I did not watch the mandated ten thousand hours,
even when the deadline for party affiliation

mental ascent was ex
tended, circa 1985, pre-
tending to be a measure of de
fencing public universities from the
effect of rock and roll,

since about 1964

with folk like Dylan and Baez and Hallelujah
Jubilee and Jambalaya on d'Baya,
Herb's brass on the Baja, where all the girls
work it,
like 'otel Kali phornia, sticky,

sweet, like a taste of Honey. Mr.Bond,
meet Miss
Galore. OH GOD, in the car from the speaker
she heard the idea the meaning

in the name, oh god, she squeezed my hand.

Honor Blackman plays that role, she whispered.

Trust me. It's a good plan. We got these kids!

Mom and dad just won the war, had six kids in five years,

Levittown di'n't work out, couldn't go home,
mixed marriage, from the war.

Things hap, cajun catholic wannabe aerospace engineer spy guy,
lands in Alamagordo and environs,
Summer 1944.

Here we are, Equinox, loosing season, 2019,

so some prayers were for real.

Red somthin'r'other butterflies are riding a rare breeze
from the south to the north through my
makepeace home. My peace I give,
he said,
all that passed is unexplored, take all the time

you can imagine.

My wife knows the names of those butterflies,
that's part o'm'peace. Knowin' she cares to remember
such improbably beautiful things;

soul possessed in patience, is she.

footnote 1: Despite Ciba’s efforts to market Ritalin as a ‘pep pill’, the stimulant failed to become a best-seller.  But that was not the end of Ritalin’s story.  As early as the 1930s, psychiatrists working at a children’s psychiatric institution in Rhode Island, USA had noticed that stimulant drugs could have a positive effect on the academic performance and behaviour of troubled children.  Although few psychiatrists took notice of these observations at the time, by the late 1950s, escalating concern about the educational abilities of American children during the height of the Cold War encouraged Ciba to consider a new application for their drug: underachieving schoolchildren.  They received approval from the American Food and Drug Administration (FDA) to market Ritalin to children in 1962 and, almost immediately, it became a best-selling drug (google it I didn't write the footnote pard but I forget where I got it.)
Forgive the flood, but my dear reader, I rode this wave when I noticed you on the page, in life's book. I did not know your name.
rose14195 Jun 2015
Im just a subplot in someone elses story
A rewrite that never got glory
A lost song that never got its own recording
Unrecognized beauty
You can see im pretty
But you cant see
Me
Im the person who keeps the heroes kids safe
Im a disgrace
Trying to find my own victory
But end up helping others on thier way
I want a victory
*I want my own story
In the posterity of what he compromised of his double mortality; one of these would bifurcate from the fearsome tyranny that subsequently dragged him down as he yearned to free himself from her purging. However, it was understood that he would have to retreat from his ditopikótitas or bilocality that was lifting him from the rigging of the Shamaim, which serenely reserved a Myein or arcane cloister for him until he detached himself from the Olympo that made him experience how to achieve his maximum unification with the Christianismós that would transport him with his subsidiary death from confinement, being a fleeting ascetic exercise with Orpheus and Dionisio and being able to access the unitive way of contravening the Myein or confinement of himself, until when he transfigured with his Himation into locks of gold they follow him transporting towards an illuminating purgative construction. Vernarth had already indulged in paroxysmal serials that repeatedly vanished from the stigma indulged in the non-rational parapsychological that bilocated extra-sensory, between the same helots present and ambassadors of Orpheus and Dionysus.

After drinking the fermented Ionian among those present, a Thuellai glimpsed him with such impetus that the glasses that broke in the same act, thus the lutrophores became weightless among this eternal battle between the eared handles of the carquesio, daring him to combine it with the rains of the tertiary zero that was settling on the Carquesians, and colliding with each other with those of their acolytes. Vernarth felt an abrupt alienation of the Myein towards a hyper-reality, but at the same time very aware that when the glasses crashed, they were made in thousandths of spaces in the realms that were detached from the hyper verbalized quantum with lexicons that emanated in the Duoverse way. ; That is to say, plenty of inspirations among the meditative and suspicious toasts when pretending to inherit from the Olympo, respecting and leaving the depositaries calm, noting that if one of them when grabbing the Lutrophorus had hirsute and hairy scarlet bristles activated in the back area of his hand right not hairy. Therefore, Vernarth realized that they were canons of the Kerberos in fact, and not of Orpheus and Dionysus, giving an immediate ovation of obedience and sudden minimal in the neglect of the place. This mechanism had broken down from a monotheistic hypersensitivity when he learned that there was a huge abyss of asceticism that distanced him from the underside of a possible cabal that supremely raised him with roots of hyper-meditative and illusory alienation that transferred him to the new reel of Hecate, which he reverberated with spells as he saw that his Kerberos distended from some hoopoe that lightened on Hecate's shoulders as they usurped Hestia's Olympian oikonos. Behold, Hestia's acquiescence was always close in Vernarth's metaphysical incursion, in such a way that the aviforme Hoopoe duplicated itself on Vernarth's shoulder blades, after emigrating from all the regions that were unknown to him, only from this ******* that is only possible optically sensitive in each hoopoe, and in each Vernarth shoulder after the transmigration of the great litters of blatant nocturnal Athena, not being condemned souls of Athena; but rather an owl with its wings wounded at its apices by splinters of coagulated serum from the very elytra of the Little Owl, a product of the severed of Hephaestus when cutting the skull of Zeus with his ax. Here is in this sub-quantum submission of how it implies that Vernarth takes himself from the elytra of the Little Owl, in order to impel him and achieve the conquest of the flight to Patmos where all his comrades were waiting for him, transforming his body into cells of Glaux of the Greek root γλαύκος (Glauko, bright towards an Ohr Hassadim), ibid of the same Hellenic as he traveled with the wings of the lustrous news that accompanied him, to ensure his return from the nebulosity to Ohr del Shamaim himself, pointing to the death throes of immobility of the team of oxen, which would never move from the wheels to take Lucia of Syracuse to the brothel, without the consent of Hashem.

Behold, Vernarth also within his ethnobotanical oikonos began to come off his second death as Astragalus Glaux with the sharp flowers of his garden famous in his allegories and belongings of herbaceous and confined litanies, which were the same ones that resisted his machinations by splitting them the calcaneus to its hoplites at the Arbela Site, unimpeded by some Astragalus Glaux that suffered in the substrate beyond its narrow ellipses, grouping them in the bleeding calcaneus of its phalangists, where the same length of the leaves served as peduncles dissecting and crystallizing the wounds of his faithful warriors. As a dry evergreen leaf, it was disconnected from the Glaux capsule that shone brightly from the constellation of Orion, and from Barnard's flowered loops, resembling par excellence the shape that extended to the cubic dome of the feet of all its soldiers. Falangists when at once they showed him once that they healed with the healing effect of Astragalus.

This sub-quantum could be attributed to a presumed stalking subplot, separating him in alienation but at the same time benefiting the concentrated attraction towards Sudpichi's coordinates in the Transverse Valleys from where his mother appeared to him from the Castle of Horcondising. His mother does not ask to feel part of some interference in the final awakening of his parapsychology, much less obstructing his liberation from the purgation that was already a concrete reality. Behold Luccica; her mother embodied herself in Thetis, giving her the imaginary role to interpellate in the final ceremony of Himation. Since Thetis constituted the sacred voluntary value of the Hellenes, towards a policy of agreeing her body in submitological assessment that would be legitimized once from the subsidiary body when it was split from its second incidental death of Olympo, already prepared to warn that Hephaestus had severed it. the head to Zeus when he prevented the birth of Athena, but he had two depository heads of the ingredient of Cronion-Zeus remaining until finally in this conclusive edict Luccica could receive his extemporaneous soul after being freed from the retrograde parapsychology that was re-launched in Piacenza. This exerts manumissions that are stubborn of his own will, but exercised through other deities, here Luccica had already learned that Vernarth was released from his kathartírio or Purgation, generating reconciliation with the church of Smyrna that had just been the final epilogue in Elegy VIII, as a concern of liberation such as Vernarth from the Chains of the purgation, as was what Tethys undertook when liberating Zeus from the chains with the drama of Fifth of Smyrna, from where some hold remained in the arms of the mother Vernarth with a duplicate of Achilles, but being Vernarth who was acclaimed with blood brother of all the lineage of the Heroes of the Triumph of the Hellenic Death.
Lid of Myein
Nekhbet Hermit Jul 2016
I keep getting older
But she always stays the same
The girl in my dreams
Who never seems to go away

She's here because I love her
That's a thing that could never change
She's here because I want her
But things didn't turn out that way

This haunting has got me all twisted
Caught up in my own thoughts
But this story that I'm weaving
Is lacking a subplot

She comes to me when I'm sleeping
Casting this spell on me
And I can't help but be compelled
To play out this fantasy
Marcilyne Feb 2017
From a stranger,
To someone I can't stop thinking about.
I watched you turn into a friend,
While the clock ticks at twelve.
The nights turned us,
To strangers who happened,
To have just met.
(But no),
We never met.
We don't have a clue,
About a thing or two.

Night falls,
Crashing down around me and you.
Carrying out an unnecessary unromantic subplot,
Figuring things into this dim lighted screen on my hand.

to be continued.
idk i'm sorry
Johnny Noiπ Jul 2018
climacteric/ klīˈmaktərik,/ˌklīmakˈterik
climatérico:  Definitions of climacteric
noun:              a critical period or event;
the first major climacteric
                 in twenty-first      century poetry
adjective:            having extreme
                      and far-reaching implications                         or results;
                      critical:
Britain                     must possess so climacteric
                                  a weapon in order to deter
an atomically armed enemy
Synonyms:                noun:                   menopause, change of life
Examples
Again, the results revealed
  no significant differences               in climacteric symptoms
  or well-being between the groups.
In climacteric fruits such as peaches and tomato,
              ripening is associated with a characteristic       burst
              of respiration which correlates
              with an increase in ethylene production:
Lock starts the chapter           with an interesting
historical review of the emergence
of the female climacteric   or menopause
in medical and psychoanalytic discourse;
The fact that such a climacteric
                 event of our history is not being taught
                                                       is disconcerting:
Conflicting results have been reported during the ripening of climacteric fruits after harvest:                        menopause / ˈmenəˌpôz
menopausia
Definitions of menopause
noun:                 the ceasing of *******;
Menstrual cycles
                          can occur without ovulation
  taking place as the menopause approaches;
Synonyms:                 noun
climacteric, change of life
The hot flushes and the night sweats
              have been worse than when I was just through natural menopause;
Loss of muscle increases six-fold at the time
of the menopause                so it may have a connection
with estrogen;                      I wondered if I was starting menopause,
                        but decided that I was too young;
                        In women after the menopause,
                        the lack of oestrogen can lead
to a weakening of the muscles associated
       with the bladder and the urethral sphincter [
****
slət
puta
Definitions of ****
noun:                  a woman who has many casual ****** partners.
"People think I'm just a **** having *** on screen
  but I did it to jump              start my career," she adds in the Express.
synonyms: promiscuous woman,
*******, *****, ****, ******,
                         *****, ******, hustler, scarlet woman,
loose woman, *****, trollop, harlot, strumpet, wanton
a woman with low standards of cleanliness.
Although she was handsome
in a blowsy way,                               she was a ****,
with                    holes in her stockings and grubby bra          straps:
Synonyms:                              noun:­                 promiscuous woman,
*******, *****, ****, ******, *****,
         ******, hustler,              scarlet woman, loose woman, *****, trollop,
                harlot, strumpet, wanton
slovenly woman,   slattern, trollop
fornicatress, jade, loose woman,
                             adulteress, *****, trollop, strumpet
Her holes moved her from ingenue to **** |
spinster to "the first lady of fright."
She is introduced as a dim oversexed
**** who works as a beauty parlor pedicurist;
Although she's handsome in a blowsy way,
she's such a **** , with holes in her stockings
and grubby straps showing;
Can she have *** without losing all control &
being branded a ****? I wasn't a **** in high school,
but if I had stuck around my small town after graduation,
I would have become one;
"People think I'm just a **** having *** on screen
but I do it to promote my career," she adds in the Express.
You're dressing like a ****;
Ultimately, however, the poet objects
far less to her supposedly natural feminine
sluttishness than to her apparently
unnatural intellectual pursuits;
There was a feeling of slight sluttishness to all this,
though - normally I'd only register
with one or two recruitment agencies;
Why should I just sit back and let those
sluttish women flirt and ***** him?
The utter badness, naughtiness and sluttishness
of these beauties make them more forbidden
than hedgehog abuse;
The second DVD focuses mainly
on the ‘social’ disease side of sin and sluttishness,
with a sampling of              drug addiction horrors
thrown in  to cover all the illegal good times;
You left me after my father died,
                  for arrogant jocks and sluttish girls;
Come on, support your sisters, don't talk about
being ***** and ******!
Women are already viewed as stupid, juvenile,
sluttish, brash, ******, and more often than not,
willing to trade their virtue for a hundred francs;
   The Greek lords await Hector's arrival to fight
with Ajax:        when Diomedes brings Cressida,
they each try to kiss her in turn,                
                     though she refuses
Menelaus and also Ulysses,
who after her departure
  accuses her of sluttishness -
'What aspect of my behavior
could have been more sluttish?'
If you look at those who are
                 successful in the tabloid business,
                day in, day out, they're called fat,
ugly, slappers &     *****;
But t[                  ]here's also
                                      the obligatory nice hot fantasy chick
(Jennifer Morrison)      who's meant to balance out the film's
  otherwise                      truthful                       ­   depictions of women as *****,
                  leeches and psychopaths.
When engaged                     in conversation with a ****,
certain                                                  sluttis­h cues bubble to the surface;
Girls still    can be labeled *****            if they're
  [sexually free (?)]   ,
whereas boys aren't.
And, just for the record,
                 when I was that age            , neither I
                 (alas) nor anyone I knew was getting
                 any at the rate purported            by the *****
                 in this movie b/c we were ugly;
Smokers and childless women are known
        to get together                    during the menopause
        of  the younger                  aged      women;
After menopause                  the ovaries produce
lower levels of the hormones
estrogen and progesterone; but healthy
            women still like to ****;
            Some view the menopause as a
            significant stage in ageing-
            Smoking can cause infertility
            and an early menopause                    [in women] & who else?,                  
                                  and ***** problems  
      | in men [again, who else has *****?];
  ***** drinking & hanging on the corner
     Every woman who has periods will go
     through menopause           at some time in her life,
                        usually between the ages of 42 and 58;          typically long after her sluttiest years     [mid-college &       through           her 20's]
Menstrual cycles can occur
without ovulation taking place
as [                ]      menopause approaches;
Nearly 24 million North American
              women  are in menopause
              at one time;      
for           years &               the vast majority of them gain
weight over time:
                              The roots & rhizomes
                              are widely used in the treatment
of menopausal symptoms                     & menstrual
                              dysfunction;
Five trials   with a total of 400    participants studied the effects
of red clover on menopausal symptom :.
  Other reported menopausal symptoms                 include hot flashes,
                           night sweats, insomnia,
headaches,
obesity      and general pissiness;
Dietary phytoestrogens, found in soybeans
and linseed        are thought to help relieve
vasomotor menopausal symptoms. [
As a senescing hormone,             it promotes leaf-yellowing,
climacteric fruit ripening,                              flower and leaf abscission.
The destruction of the Babri Masjid
was an important climacteric
                             in the decline of the administration;
By contrast, Dickens's second protagonist,
Oliver Twist, experiences what seems set
to be his climacteric           in an intensely
fraught boyhood;  the climacteric arrived
with a massive run on the pound.
The authors                           conclude that a dosage of 114 mg per day
                                              of phytoestrogens for three months
does not relieve hot flushes                       or other climacteric symptoms;
Ethylene plays a major role in initiating
ripening in climacteric    fruits such as tomato and apple.
Ripening is physiologically divided
into two distinct classes: climacteric and non-climacteric.
In females about 50 years old,
various symptoms of climacteric disorders
may appear with the decline               of ovarian function;
           The majority of this work, however,
has been conducted on climacteric species... [                   ]
There are two aspects of this climacteric
event         to be considered in relation
          to the history of our civilization;
The sight of all mankind                obediently bowing down
to the                          awe-inspiring          world-dominat­rix:
                              ****** to civilization's career.
It is thought             that the increase in ethylene
responsiveness during petal development

     culminates in the ethylene climacteric:
Given these emphases             on significant dates,
it may not be coincidental that the
                      Ara Pacis            was begun during the year
                       in which Augustus reached the climacteric age of fifty!
This process of        alternative and individual reading
reaches its climacteric
     in the ‘full flood of unlicensed text and independent thought’
                                 of the 1640s... [1640's?]
A transitional period occurs prior to
menopause termed the climacteric or perimenopause;
The released film now opens with the final scenes of Eddie's ejection from his government job for reasons which will
not become apparent until the climacteric of Three Dollars;
At the climacteric , various symptoms such as forgetfulness, hot flush, depressive neurosis,
         abnormal sensation,            and sleeplessness are often observed,
                       due to hypofunction of the ovaries;
in the end, this subplot becomes a mere plot device
when the out-of-control avenging
                  husband bails up O'Reilly at the climacteric:
The year 1981 was a major climacteric
for the politicization of policing,
                            most obviously because the urban riots,
                                unprecedented in the twentieth century!!!
In the climacteric fruit tomato, ethylene
is perceived by a family of six receptor proteins.
We studied the effects of daily use of
isoflavonoids on climacteric symptoms
and quality of life in patients with a history of breast cancer.
Whatever the nomenclature, be it male
menopause or climacteric or age related
hypotestosteronaemia, men presenting
with symptoms outlined in the box should be investigated.
But the First World War shocked even him,
and that was probably a climacteric .
Both Western and Chinese herbal traditions
have numerous                               solutions for climacteric women;
Pear are climacteric fruit:
     their ripening is associated
with a burst of autocatalytic ethylene
production a well known &       effective      Aphrodisiac used by
Chinese Women for arousal         in          all stages of life;

— The End —