it truly has to begin as the most mundane sort of escapade and be allowed to morph into something quiet the contrary to coincidental in that roulette of mundane days...

i love fridays - now it seems even more -
gone are the teenager fridays of locked up
in a bedroom with a PS1
without having to do homework till -
some time on saturday or some time on
sunday...
until about 17...
we caught up with the girls...
jumpin' jacks near the ilford flyover -
5 buds upon entry - and...
whatever that was that was:
was? a blurr...
then the exhausting fridays
when you had to mingle...
go clubbing to the pubs...
problem solved...
most of the pubs are closing across
england (esp. in the home counties
surrounding London) -
imagine my shock when i heard
that the Valentine of Gants Hill closed...
gone are the days when
a guy i knew: dropped out of high school,
became a carpenter... i.q. around
the number to differentiate a plank of
wood from a tree... could bag a date almost
every weekend of...
minors... i'd be dating a daughter...
but that's hardly an insult to reality...
besides, now fridays are a blessing...
i imagine the same sort of walks home
from clubbing raging like no other animal...
one weekend, second...
what's wrong mit mir?!
hell... i had to ditch the english
in my thinking - hard to succumb to some
swabian truths about the anglo-saxons...
they're like german, but not quiet german -
any man born on the continent will tell you:
those islanders are odd folk...
ask any scandinavian: those icelandic folk and
those faroe island folk are odd...
they are just the sort of people made to
succumb to their idiosyncracies given
enough time... like traffic passing on the left
side of the road... imperial units rather than
metric... nonetheless...
my dream destination?
the fucking faroe islands... ha ha...
specifically for that?
the Grindadrap -
i'd love to see what the turning of the Nile
to blood looked like...
beside... wine turning to blood?
i fancy the trick of turning water into blood
is more up my alley...
fridays should be filled with hymn...
i sometimes find myself stalking incel communities
wondering...
what are these guys up to?
24 years single... aged hitting 45...
3 years of a relationship...
'something is clearly going wrong...'
i can attest of a similar "predicament"...
is something going wrong?
on the individual basis... no... not really...
sure... from a sociological perspective you would
have to think something is wrong...
you're not going to be motivating any economic
growth!
you'll only be fuelling a supply and demand
economy... you will not be entertaining
capitalism from the perspective
for the motive of credit and debt...
you'll be buying everything on debit...
capitalism doesn't like debit culture...
capitalism loves credit and debt culture...
i don't know what socialism likes -
i'm not interested... it worked once...
in the way it was supposed to...
in the satellite state of Poland...
socialism - yes... in exceptional circumstances -
and only as a transient economic model...
who said anything about pernament?!
socialism in the satellite state of the warsaw pact...
a country with... not exactly much to begin
with... gone the cities L'vov and Vilnus from
the once grand bosom... but... inheriting Silesia...
socialism within a timeframe of three generations...
maximum... socialism as an economic model
to rebuild a nation after it has been left
war-torn... not... a socialist insurgence of capitalism...
syria... could be the next example...
i don't think a civil war...
where a syrian cabby doesn't trust a syrian
butcher can be rebuilt with foreign investment:
immediately...
civility has to be reclaimed among the syrians...
no foreign investor will allow that...
the syrians have to first become jealous
of each other... and that worked just right
in poland under socialism: because he has more
than me mentality...
foreign investors? that would imply syrians would
not become the sort of hogs capitalism requires...
they wouldn't become jealous...
they'd become paranoid... suspicious
of each other... again!
under exceptional circumstances...
and for a period of three generations...
afterwards? capitalism has every right to take over...
fridays then...
i love fridays these days...
in the back of my mind there are people younger
or the same age as me wasting away
in clubs on the town...
i'm sifting through some fine cider
and thinking... what past effort can i put in here?
i'll find one...
since i've learned...
i'm not here for the likes, the hearts...
thumbs up, click counts...
if you've been chased off: wattpad, poetfreak,
minds.com (i don't know how i managed that
one... i heard it was the alt. to fb from the cool
kids of youtube) and partialy from hellopoetry
(15th of december, 'ere i come!)...
something has to be seriously going
right if i've been single for so long...
why would it be going wrong?
the brief butterfly-esque moments in
a relationship can't exactly compensate for
all that comes with them -
and i agree - perhaps these words are
mere banality - there are no grand architectures
of words and all that ars poetics peacocking
flamboyance... rhyme? why rhyme?
i can literally throw a rubber ball against a wall
and i will... literally hear a rhyme...
ping-pong ping-pong, ping-...
hell, by modern standards the ancients
wrote banal conversational verse with EPIC
written in invisible ink over each gained
effort...

Horace: > si pranderet holus patienter, regibus uti
nollet Aristippus > si sciret regibus uti, fastidiret holus,
qui me notat > utrius horum verba probes et facta,
doce, vel iunior audi, cur sit Aristippi potior sententia.
namque mordacem cynicum sic eludebat, au aiunt:
scurror ego ipse mihi, populo tu: rectius hoc et
splendidius multo est. equos ut me portet, alat rex,
officium facio: tu poscis vilia - verum
dante minor, quamvis fers te nullius egentem.

em... perhaps i'd have to borrow something from
Ovid... this sounds too... wisened...

if Aristippus didn't eat nothing more than vegetables,
with grace he would disdain kings >
if, whoever disdains me,
themselves with kings associated, wouldn't eat
vegetables > whoever you place like so in word, as in deed,
judge or as being younger acknowledge:
why do i value Aristippus' judgement higher.
because he so sneered from the biting cynic:
> i am a clown for myself, and you for the people,
i live better, excellently: a steed carries me from the will
of the lord, the kings feeds - you however,
beggar, basely lie, that you are a lord without needs.

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yay! it never felt so good as it felt so good
when i claimed my bicycling badge
and my swimming achievements in primary school!
score! as any footballer would probably say:
scoring a goal or... saving a penalty
feels more intense than an orgasm...

i had to borrow my study of english oddities from
yesterday:

dz in slavic = j in germanic*
j(ot) in slavic = y in germanic
i in slavic = e in germanic...

*well... notably... (g)erman is hardly:
(g)ood to (g)o... is it?
(g)lum in (g)litter -
what other example in english involves
the (g) morphing into a (j / dz)?
it has to be specific
to a subsequent vowel association...
oh look! (g)igantic...
the first "g" is not really a G, is it?
the second one is... borrowing from JIVE...
it's JIgantic...
no wonder the englishs
permits so many to speak it,
while also allowing so my accents...
and that not even inter-national acquisitions
of the language: it's intra-national differences...
how many more examples can we spot?
crossword time...
gerrymander (jetisson that hybrid G):
flyover - manipulate to give advantage...
well isn't that just a nice: gesture (jest-tue-r) -
can i at least the trilled-R back from
the same fuckers who first came across
the rattlesnake? any buyers? no?
going... going... gone! next Overton window!
no wonder dyslexia:
is unique to the english language...
orthographic aesthetics for other languages...
dyslexia for english...
well no wonder! there are so many particular
instances when a G behaves like a "g" in that
it behaves like a J (or dz... depending who you ask:
if you asked me... a G that haves like a J
is akin to a Y that also behaves like a J in...
Jadwiga... Yadviga... a common girl's name in
slavic)...
the sort of R in anglo-ßaß of once upon
a time... a rattlesnake... not some tarantula
bitten limp digestive that has been soaked in
tea for too long... but i guess that's better than
what the french did to their trill -
harking fuckers.

in a language such as this -
what sort of orthographical discussion is to take place?
all the other chemistry prefixes are taken:
meta- with its metaphysics,
para- with its paranorman activities
cis- / trans- with their devolved status of enlarged
biology status bound to sex studies:
well yes, they were isnomer terms to begin with...
non-superimposable... the right hand does
what the left hand knows nothing about...
but you couldn't have an orthographic focus point
since, english doesn't use diacritical markers...
i and j don't count... so let's cut the hydra's heads
while we're: at it...
ιt can sιmply, so sιmply start lookιng
as so, ȷust so...

/
who would come as this infamous "latin man":
and would not be left to sit on the peddlestool
of world powers as some over-reign fiend -
who would... slithering inside the wooden
tabernacle like a termite and reply:
of the same humble beginning -
but thank you: this is not,
the man you were looking for -
at the end of the day:
son of a carpenter... son of a roofer...
nice skies... esp. at night...
i wonder: why does the movie industry
lie about two things so... emphatically?
there aren't so many stars in the sky as they'd
lead you to believe...
frankly? three constellations tops...
one? scorpion... not the zodiac scorpion...
the real scorpion constellation:
________________•
______________•
____________•

__________________•
___________________•

______________________________•
___________• (that's how the html would
best allow me to draw the constellation)...
and brushing your teeth... brushing your teeth
not using a pea-sized amount of toothpaste...
and not rinsing your mouth after washing
them... who the hell doesn't rinse their mouth
after washing their teeth but simply...
spits out excess toothpaste while allowing
the remaining toothpaste to cling to teeth
and instigating fluoride rot?
evil hollywood... evil hollywood... /

and now... for something archived...

- herr... wachsen einige hoden, bitte! danke -

.in a land, where, ahem, "supposedly"... the one eyed man leads the blind? that oeuvre proclaimation? hard to... give the one-eyed the mastering of the people, who can see, no? as the one eye-man said, son of Odin... the two eyed are as blind as the no-eyed, in that they cross their eyes, and imagine themselves drowning... i see a serpent... without eyelids... perpetuated spine of lizard, cranium of cold, venom... the hebrew didn't exact... "justice" by ensuring the lizard to be left, wriggling, spine-esque, without attachment of limbs... no... the real torture? the torture that Moses didn't speak of? why, why oh why, did he leave the serpent without eye-lids?! i ask, because a mammal, a bonsai tiger is playing the role of a bassett hound, he's a maine coon... and he, for some, reason, enjoys my company... the fact that the "devil" lost his limbs... i'm not here for that... i'm here for the fact that serpents... spine and cranium remnants of dinosaurs... have, "apparently"... "lost" their eye-lids... imagine the agony... of falling asleep with your eyes open! sympathy for the devil? well... is there really any sympathy for a god or the gods? beside the point... ever since i was born... for all the creativity of the h'american people, their primitive christianity was perpetually sentenced to be abhorrent for me... i could never stomach it... that being said: so what their atheism. i could never stomach either side of the argument... at least with the russians you were told to settle for the kazakhs, those pseudo-Mongols... then, those, intermediate mouth-offs of the english... it's like a dog dies, but you can never get the fleas off of a dead dog! they keep on biting, trying to "revive" bollocks, akin to 20th century's 1960s zenith, "property allowance of dictum". let me just say... how god cursed Satan... to be left without limbs... is how he cursed... the fact... that dinosaurs, "once upon a time", ruled this orb... limbless sidewinding spines and brains? that's not the real... "pardon", for the emergence of man... do snakes have eyelids? i'm pretty fucking sure they don't. big tigers... tigers and lions... what about the domesticated bonsai tigers? last time i checked... big cats... tigers... lions... they had eyes... that resembled mammals... their pupils dilated, or contracted... cats? the bonsai? why do their pupils resemble lizards? fucking spies! leather in furrs! what's that old christian metaphor of wolves in sheep clothing? that's it, isn't it? well... here's a fucking update: lizard leather in bonsai pussy furrs! i keep having these blinking matches... with my maine coons... yes... the basset hounds of the feline kingdom... blinking matches, wavering: staring contests... the poverty of the metaphor poetics of Moses is finally revealed... you trust your cat? sure as shit your cat's eyes do not dilate or contract like a tiger's or a lion's might... there's a fucking lizard spy in that cranium of their, "cute"-ness... i'm pretty sure the eyes of a tiger, or a lion, become O from o... regarding the pupil... and not O from ()... slit. again... the biggest curse of the "devil" (dinosaurs) was... to craft a slithering pickle jar of a lizard's worth of a weaving spine and a brain cell? or, the fact, that, serpents do not have eyelids?! that they have to black out to craft a pair of eyelids? that they have to binge... and the reason why they ingest a whole body, is so that they can digest a whole body in order to fall asleep, with their eyes, open? i have just left, whatever was the worth of the poetics, associated with Moses' genesis... some sexy vixen can play around with a serpent for all i care... i just need to hear a sssssssss sound in my head... find a cat sleeping in my bed... and say: those eyes are not big cat's eyes... they change from mammalian through to lizard... cats are dinosaurs' spies; and no, the curse of leaving a serpent without limbs... which explains the fucking crocodile... the komodo dragon... i'm worried that "god" took a snippet of the eyelids of the serpents... the "retrospective" lab. specimen of the remains of the dino. inquiry into the past of this, orb.

o.k., so i integrated, now what?
can the anglophone world
put away its bullshit of giving
everyone a fair chance when that
supposed "fair" chance is
a neurotic take on not being "racist"?
what, a, load, of, bollocks:
and pastoral shit-heaps of oops -
i should have migrated in my
teenage years and kept my
diacritical exfoliation,
the distinction by accent if not
by colour... but i'm sure you're
well aware that the oliwki -
i just call the fuckers olives -
have a joker card of the obviousness:
i.e. like fuck you are descendent
of an eskimo...
today is the first night
of night frost...
metal is hit first,
the cement paparazzis are not yet
economised -
and i find it a waste of a day
in winter if i see sunlight...
so i go back to bed:
the plan was always:
go to sleep in the night,
wake up when it's night.
i'm not buying it...
but i should have really
misguided by efforts in learning this,
god-forsaken tongue,
imperfected it, rather than perfected it,
retained the: free meal ticket of
the fucking accent and then scream
when the opportunity came: racism!
racism!
easier if i were olive
skinned...
free rides like that don't come
so often...
the english have become
neurotic beyond compensation!
i'm not nervous about being called
a racist or a nazi... call me that enough
times and then a lightbulb moment
will, happen... problem is:
i'll embrace that stereotype with as much
gentlemanly airs and "concern" that
will only be made for the opposite
party to not distinguish politeness from,
ridicule...
no no,
these people will not be riddles -
they'll be ridiculed, a massive difference.
i sometimes regret learning the english
language to establish myself by the native
standard of talk,
because once you've attained that:
then what?
you already have a meritocracy that's
build upon: what's best representative
of your multiculturalism -
apparently the whites don't distinguish
other whites...
as it is clearly seen:
christianity taught the nebulous blood-thirty
barbarians a culture of masochism...
it's actually painful to hear
a german speak, less painful speaking
german yourself...
herr... wachsen einige hoden, bitte!
danke.
it just looks like watching a boxer
in match wearing a fucking tutu.

willkommen! zu aufpassen:
die zeit zu kommen sie!
bitch-brute-deutsche...
hündin-brachial-ßaß!
ich: jawohl!

you want to punch: you better want
to punch high, on the head...
for the... fucking concussion
(die gehirnerschütterung...
guess what... no trenches for you...
chemical nouns!
ficken feen paddy kobolde -
glücklich?!)

there has never come a time,
similar to this,
when a polack, a polen...
would, love, the deutzsche-zunge
as much, as he might love it now...
weird... seltsam...
gott, mit uns!

memories of my grandfather's plea:
herr! bitte bon-bon!
before the soviets came
and decided to sleep with the goats...
kommen auf ein metallurgiefamilieanfänge
(carbohydrate enough for you,
mrs. khan?!)
what is it with me and the allure
toward the german tongue,
away from zee Ęnglisch?!

i have an idea, or, two...
so many pakistanis with khan
as their surname...
it almost makes you, "wonder"...
islam blah blah this,
islam blah blah that...
a lot of pakistanis with
mongolian surnames...
time to find the wound...
time to find the salt..
don't you think?
oh: nicht bitter...
wirklichkeit... prüfen,
eh?
i can't, or rather,
i don't have the energy to hate,
or remind the saxons,
their misdeeds...
ich bin müde!
i am, tired...
see? no diacritical marks,
i have to make up the "loss" with
punctuation markers...
kennt ihre nachbar!
liebe? liebe?!
kennt ihre nachbar
wie dich selbst!
liebe?! ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
sagte die eifersüchtig gott...
liebe?
how about: know your neighbour
as yourself...
the command, love your neighbour
as yourself... can we leave that sort of bullshit
to petting cats and pigeons?!
i rather know my neighbour as i
might know myself...
love is never a part of the golden rule
of universal application...
love is a futility of diminished
senses...
i rather know my neighbour,
than love him,
as much as as i rather know myself,
than love myself.

so when's the next bollocks' worth
of riddles going to come from?
palestine...
look, i've already exhausted the "jewish q.",
i'm tired of jewish wisdom...
what's next: the arab pandora's box?
great!
mind you... it's so nice to see
the yews the yids, the 'ebrews
making fwends with the arabs again...
hell: goat herder met another goat
herder...
which leaves the argentinian
neo-nazis with the beef!
and some of us:
with leather shoes, belts...
jackets... and... bacon!

god bless... this wonderful world!