- nichts nein! -
hiding behind images:
rather than standing before shadows...
perhaps it sounds better
in german, in german:
it (being german) is more...
informative...
or at least... that's how i see words
as...
example... DOG...
will i hide behind an image...
or will i... stand before the shadow?
as bad insurgent "translations" go...
this is where you find the "lost"
artefacts...
why would a polack snuggle
up with some deutsche-spreschen
bollocking: to begin with?
we have settled our difference...
we have to have them...
wir haben zu haben: ihnen!
Plato... and iconoclasm...
christmas is over and i can,
finally! celebrate!
we do like in a democratic pseudo
state of affairs...
no man shall reign for more than
100 years...
even if he is god-bound....
but this little motherfucker...
fucking pivot,
it all begins with him and ends:
with him...
before all the greek demigods...
i will seek: being naive...
i will seek... keeping my mouth shut...
i will make minor details:
enlarged protest projects!
perhaps the german will
clarify...
verstecken (the past tense...
i never found it...
the paste of hiding...
to be couple with a present participle
of still... hiding)
verstecken hinter bilder...
lieber als stehen vor schatten!
die architektur aus wörter
(von Goethe... "von wörter"...
'goeRte')
nichts nein!
what is a melancholic arson?
the inflamed heart: its last willing rubric
genesis...
the mind is either automated cold
or stitching up cobweb matrixes of borrowed
time... but the heart...
oh a heart can become something more
than the bundle of clockword muscle...
i have tried to keep this mind
candle-lit and "curious"...
to keep it: intellectually focused...
to be prone of being starved: retaining
being a curious case of:
but i've found extinguishing points
of reference...
the only stupidity i found was...
it was going to be: oh so... predictable...
the modern tongue...
libra! meet the hydra...
i can either hide behind images...
and fuse them with words...
or i can... stand before these shadows...
these skeletons...
and properly disguise an "alternative
arithmetic"...
there's no point arguing over what is,
and what isn't "central europe"...
the masses have spoken...
we know what's fly-over territory when
it comes to h'america...
there's the east coast and the west...
but i will keep borrowing german
to... to the best of my abilities...
pretend to leisure myself in the comment
section, of the serious, sober,
liberal elites!
the true mind grifters and...
perhaps the odd chance of
a dutch puritanical rabbi...
to... "manage" an equilibrium...
to... not... rattle the boat...
common theme: i drink, i want to speak german,
i'm dead: i want to speak german...
i want to tell jokes in german...
-esque buzz lightyear in toy story 3 with
his... hispanic psychosis interlude...
i've experienced psychosis...
most... unsatisfying... i never managed
a complete disintegration of the self...
shame... i almost wish i did something...
that would have kept me in
Broadmoor for the past... 12 years...
i'm still "here"... but it's already apparent...
to have invested in german existentialism...
to have invested in... german idealism...
somewhat... and "then" / only now...
do you realise... you're not going to be part
of some fucking bookclub!
oх dye scheiße!
чoпперс chomp!
их... alternatively in eat... east germany...
isch... so?
ишь... alt. being? ихь...
variations go... where the caron... doesn't...
i will not solve you a crossword
puzzle in english...
i still have not opened a bottle
of jack daniels this very night...
and i'm already making a summary
as to: why i will not open
a bottle of jack daniels tonight...
i will... but i'll sniff the bottle-neck
as if it were a line of cocaine...
and the sober, sensible people,
can have their fill...
they can have their: formal...
promenade poetic excursions into the night...
and they can rhyme rhyme rhyme!
they can walk their ritual crescendo
of left right, left right...
which will never make them odd...
should Beijing stage an army parade
"impromptu"!
have them! have them all!
too bad for me... to bad for you:
to be of those people...
who read books...
that... makes it hard...
to find someone... who also read them...
and when you have...
done both...
you find out... oh, right...
those books were never supposed
to be talked about...
they were supposed to become
cognitive tattoos...
you were always supposed to...
"think" about them...
in "think" as in: not talk about them...
you would never be able to
mainstream them...
regurgitate them... fall flat on your ass...
donkey comparison...
Balaam's donkey...
Jesus' donkey...
i'll repeat this...
Balaam's donkey... Jesus' donkey...
and those four horsemen...
minus one donkey-jockey...
Balaam's donkey... Jesus' donkey...
if only someone told either of them...
about...
one of the donkeys knew...
as my cat knew when... clear as day...
i remember him utter the word:
яабэł...
he had two names: oscar darshan...
i'm way past being crazy...
being crazy these days is:
being known for making yourself
be accustomed to rules and laws...
outside of the rules and laws
that make stealing a criminal act...
otherwise: christmas is over...
now i get to celebrate the every day...
i'm done with this:
worshipping a baby...
on a day... when... Herod did a
Pharaoinic imitation...
major, or minor improvements?
beside the point...
only he exists... the rest of us...
perhaps some... porridge... will suffice?
oh thank god the c.c.t.v. cameras weren't there...
and the sceptical community...
i wouldn't mind some cynics...
but so the story goes...
because why would i want to...
"persuade" anyone toward, anything?
less of me, less of me on instagram...
ensuring i post the perfect
hot-dog sublime piece of legs
before the altar of a swimming pool...
or whatever chlorine cocktail...
with a "missing link" sombrero for
a stump of wood...
excavated from a sacred forest of Lithuania...
or some other variant bollocking...
christmas is over...
i can forget about being secular and sensible
over these past three days...
so i can return to my cognitive religioisity
in the outcast domain of mingling
gnosticism with qabbalah...
and... i can due those said prayers
in silence with my thought...
the ought-i-ought-i-not:
in that sigma-cum-theta morph prefix
exemplification... of translation...
dry-humorless: pedantic...
that's me...
because i can finally! finally! breathe!
i can enjoy winter without these
fucking fancy-lights!
i can enjoy x-ray vision of skeleton trees...
balding fully...
i can enjoy winter... after all...
winter can only be settled into an armchair
of comfort... when christmas resigns from
being a calendar event...
i can enjoy winter now...
ich dürfen zu genießen winter, jetzt!
ich, auch, dürfen zu genießen:
bekommen betrunken,
bekommen betrunken genug:
zu necken deutsche-tippfehler-quack-sprechen...
etc.
christmas is only christmas come
the 27th of december...
now i can celebrate...
now i can fucking peacock strut me way
(my my my)... into
the never available "oblivion"...
as you do... you really need procreation...
you need children to appreciate christmas...
otherwise you're fucking stuck...
with a delay button...
waiting for Easter...
the big boy celebration of christianity...
christmas and... the siege of Gaza...
what's the common thread?
human shields... children being:
human shields... excuses excuses ad nauseam...
it's because of the children that we justify
christmas...
i have none so... i don't justify it...
i'll usher in some herr bernstein
in the form of monsieur gauner...
or some... all brothels have a stench of
bourbon about them...
alle bordelle gestank von bourbon!
alle!
and what "good" isn't coincidental
with the advent of spring?
ah... the resurrection "part"...
flight to egypt... josephus ben mathias...
1945... the nag hammadi library...
and... plenty of greco-hebrew politico
propaganda hybrids along the way...
i can hide behind an image
that a word designates...
but... i can also... stand before...
the shadow that the word impregnates...
it just so happens to... rhyme;
bluntly.
- more german from the drunkard -
i never write "anything"...
i'm claustrophobic when its comes to
exploring cognizance...
'wow! what a fancy word!'
i hardly beg to differ...
i hear of people fathoming the novel...
and...
i'm a monolith monstrosity...
some bourbon, some german:
ich bin gut zu gehen: ja!
spucke bourbon au zu mein gesicht!
i will never write a novel,
i deal with butchering an animal
for: ein stück von fleisch...
"a novel" und barockarchitektur:
sounds similar?
oh but it's a freel available tattoo
in the anglophonic frame of ref....
Hastings, 1066...
hard to come by when the tattoo reads...
ahem...
Tannenberg, 1410...
Vienna, 1683...
clear-cut... almost safe-net catch-em
while you can...
the Hastings folk were pagans...
don't you know?
don't you know that only white
people can be racist?
pst... ask the russians "about that"...
see what you come back with...
i will have to...
S'nigger at the reply...
no... honestly: "because" it's forbidden for
us former iron curtain "roma" folk...
dick dastardly's dog: muttley... S'niggers...
giggles in...
we former folk from the eisenvorhang...
coming across the californian:
siliziumvorhang?!
where are we... polacks...
hunagarians... czechs... estonians...
lithuanians... ukranians...
yugolz... at?!
we don't fit the narrative... do we?
it's the 27th of december...
and i'm "thinking"... it's mighty fine...
to celebrate something with the aestigermani!
the children of sodom sought a father...
the children of gomorrah were akin...
i do not know whether i am
a father figure or whether:
there's that pointless safety question
to mind: did i wear a condom?
i was assured! i was assured there were
contraceptive pills involved!
i'm tired on the usual steaming-heap
pile of warm bollocks and shit
to give a psychoanalyst his rhetoric
elevated status of disinhibition...
cocktail! madonna's papa don't preach...
dusty springfield: son of a preacher man...
and any other formidable calypso
study of salsa... should this sugar baby
this sugar baby be my baby
and if i would never become a sugar daddy...
and because i was only ever looking
for the six oops-stones of womanhood...
infinity: eh... bag 'em one weekend...
forget 'em the next...
god... let me this one type of racist...
Jefferson keeping "green things" akin
to Zoe Saldana in some variation
of a "basement"...
i'm good with green...
use enough cumin, coriander or
cinnamon powder in your cooking...
you'll ask: what's wrong with green?
i'd fuck green! i'd fuck green sitting down
i'd fuck green of the sort sleeping!
i'd peacock myself in many variations
of drunk to stage:
that one sober sort of fuck with her
and... it's no samantha 38g and...
classics come to mind...
homer, horace... and plump models
of: extra cushions!
ha ha... i make myself laugh:
i make myself laugh because:
there's about zeo chance of me...
conjuring up a novel ambition...
me and a novel...
a "supposed" schizoid and a novel...
ha ha! Noel! Noel!
there was a time where i grew a beard for a reason:
i.e. exercise less..
grow a beard, hide the pride of a walrus
minus the harem...
double chin and the...
Zoe Saldana in green skin...
octopus fucky-fucky or what?
- never mind -
grow a beard... hide the shar pei...
i figured over time...
my beard became a giza pyramid
focus of my eyes...
it took some persuasion...
namely 4 years and my grandmother
finally pointing out:
oh look how thick it is...
she wanted to play g.i. joe with...
prior to: my hair...
like some thor meets barbier universe
dolls extravaganza...
a hard-on waiting...
with an ava lauren limp twist...
"oops".
now the beard is all about...
being 34 years old... while donning
the bum leftover skivvy look
inflating the organic body for a media
frenzy to "compenstate" it to be aged:
49!
ha ha...
i keep forgetting why i'm in such a good mood!
today is today! and i'm...
and i'm not allowing myself to succumb
to an anglophonic seriousness
of staging an elvis costello seriousness
of: everyday writing the novel...
pst: sounds better than that obvious...
"nook 'n' cranny"...
my alternatives!
minnesang - neidhart:
meie din liechter schin!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt:
lassen uns singen!
lassen uns geben loben!
lassen uns männer verlassen
der mutterleib!
ensemble für frühe musik augsburg -
mayenzeit one neidt...
jetzt kommen der lieder:
zu gesungen! für alle das jahr!
i guess i grew a beard to hide a shar pei...
then again:
perhaps i grew a beard to pretend to
fiddle with a throng of violins?
perhaps i found growing my hair long...
i had to compensate!
i had to exfoliate in the downward
spiral and exchange...
oi! baldy! baldy!
i can juggle! i can juggle!
i can grow long hair and a beard!
but never the two at the same time!
germany and the nazis...
i just can't stiop thinking about
the lucky... those frivolous drunks
of the holy roman empire...
esp. when peering via their folk songs...
i call it: having to succumb to
english prune and pristine pressures...
even these days...
being wholy saxon is to be:
most unwholesome when it comes
to the german federation...
it's called cheating:
eatin saxon white soy
and not... riddling oneself
with Bavarian rye!
i'm drunk! it's the 27th of december!
the little bastard is born!
now i can celebrate!
chevalier, mult estes guariz!
on the 27th of december i can sing
german, and french crusader songs!
on the 27th of december i can celebrate!
nothing has to be left so innocent
and passive! so coddled!
and if they weren't singing byzantine
chants... prior to this day?!
let them sing no more!
i have found my happiness! once more!
Ö dies freude!
jetzt ich können: singen!
einst die kinder und engel...
ar legen zu bett!
if i am to be the integrated kind...
now i rejoice!
for i have all the reasons to rejoice!
i do no have to pander
to a babe!
i do not have to force myself
into elevated expectations with
a pre- litany of the omni- suitor...
now i can champion the romance
of the crusade...
i am... freed from the utopia...
that only one heart is allowed
to feel... and its feeling is to be contested...
solely by the sacrifice of a crucifixion...
not by iron maiden outlets "etc."...
now muttererde...
ihr liebhaber: wind - seine unterschrift!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
it's the 27th of december and i can finally
celebrate with songs...
that... celebrate the sort of christianity
i am accustomed to...
french crusader songs...
german folk...
that i can stomach...
not this... pandering...
expecting the nuns to not...
somehow, not, become...
the whores of the christ-harem!
a nun is a nun is a nun is a nun...
is a nun...
but i very much like...
being considered...
for... the better part of the feminine whim,
outside the realm of:
the usual rejection tactics of:
the aborted... i like my exercise of yielding:
DAS WORTE... ooh... chisel that
with a base goosebump strut to be worth
being added!
em... it's almost like that...
time-travel question of:
why not travel back in time...
and kill the baby adolf hitler...
dunno... no point doing that with a jesus...
since... m'eh... his cross is our
genuflexion... yes: kind sir...
yes mr. greek and mrs. hebrew...
esp. in this script...
esp. when its alive and "we" debate...
the pronunciation of:
nil admirari prope res est una, Numici,
solaque, quae possit facere et servare beatum...
hunc solem et stellas et decedentia certis
tempora momentis sunt qui formidine nulla
inbuti spectent: quid censes munera terrae,
quid maris extremos arabas ditantis et indos
ludicra, quid plausus et amici dona quiritis,
quo spectanda modo, quo sensu credis et ore?
there's nothing to be surprised by, Numicious,
in this life's mainstay, peace of soul and happiness;
others, onto the sun, the stars, azure bodies...
on the round year of orbital changes, look with
a calm... and you would, upon the gifts of earth,
pearls of the sea, what of the distant Arabs,
Indians beyond the Arabs,
on the Kwiritow (googlewhack...)
Quiritus' honours, questionable plaudit: peer
raptured in awe without measure?
a very fucking bad a very fucking terrible
translation... as you do...
as you do... sinking into bourbon...
thinking about... maritza mendez...
sylvia loret... samantha 38G...
and all those lost plump classics of porno...
i would have sunk the Potemkin!
drunk... i wouldn't even require
a sober catch / scrutiny of "character"...
because now i am yet to translate
some latin, use this... ahem...
pseudo-cuneiform text:
"LATINE QUOD MORTUS EST"
perhaps that's mis-translated as:
qua: i.e. "as being"...
perhaps MIT... some runic...
or glagolitic... we AWAIT: the revival!
of the grand h'american protestant church
of apocalyptic wonder!
maybe, perhaps... "then"!
but it's the 27th of december...
the... "messiah" is born!
now we can reroute and go back to our...
current year... sodom and gomorrah type
of bullshit...
the cosmopolitan whoop-t'd'ah is 'ere!
come easter, come spring....
come the crucifixion! come the resurrection!