When my husband makes love to me he doesn't last very long he just can't last very long in the sexual endurance department once he has got his penis inside of me I mean inside of my vagina he says that it feels too nice in there he says that it feels too nice when he is fucking me like as if his penis is immersed into a pit of electricity and of love and of soft rubber honey this is what he tells me and you should see his face it is a picture show and I give it a place and there he goes now at another fragment of his own destiny.
If we define Being
in the universal sense
as the principle of manifestation,
and at the same time
as comprising in itself
the totality of possibilities of all manifestation,
we must say that Being is not infinite
because it does not coincide with total Possibility;
and all the more so because Being,
as the principle of manifestation,
although it does indeed
comprise all the possibilities of manifestation,
does so only insofar
as they are actually manifested.
Outside of Being,
therefore, are all the rest,
that is
all the possibilities of non-manifestation,
as well as the possibilities of manifestation themselves
insofar as they are in the unmanifested state;
and included among these is Being itself,
which cannot belong to manifestation
since it is the principle thereof,
and in consequence is itself unmanifested.
For want of any other term,
we are obliged
to designate all that is thus outside and beyond Being
as "Non-Being",
but for us this negative term
is in no way synonym for 'nothingness'.
Is poetry the original state of man
mum
is poetry what we have fallen from
mum
were we poets first and once foremost
mum
=
It appears what you mean by poetry son
what do you mean by it that word my dear boy
poetry
=
Harmony justice and proportion
mum
an inch to an inch
and a thumb to a thumb
mum
=
But it is hard to say though
isn’t it son
and we don’t
we respect it
poetry enough
in order for
to not try to say
enough about it son
=
Yes my mum I know
and that is half the fun
like that by the way
and who are you about mum
I mean you come here
if I ask you don’t
if you don’t ask nothing
or me asking
=
As I need to be at the time son
as long as I know who I am
which I do that for
I am that thing
how I am
=
How are old you today then my mum
=
Me
I’m your mum.
Alien serial killer
fugitive on the run
with your hijacked ufo
and your flashy little ray gun
you don't frighten me
swanning here on Earth
looking for a target
a new asshole
for what it is worth
alien serial killer
drooling at our women
you cheap little bastard
you dirty piece of useless
trashy stupid space vermin.
These lyrics of an Albanian partisan song seem to be translated quite literally and without intended artifice or manner; but this gives the words a feeling that I like in that they are now rendered without so much consciousness of sound or form and this presents the meaning or the intention depicted with a charism of unselfconsciousness.
A voice is rising
from the bottom of a grave
like sunlight when sparkling
and spreading on land
revenge revenge
to the barbarian’s throat
forward oh people
assault them like a lightning
avenge me youth
the martyr is calling
who fell for freedom
of his own land
avenge me youth
the martyr is calling
who fell for freedom
of his own land
avenge me
are calling the martyrs
from graves
the blood they shed
with blood must be repaid
the whole population
is with Albanian faith
with a gun in hand
fighting fascism
oh people take revenge
the martyr is calling
who washed his flag with blood
oh people take revenge
the martyr is calling
who washed his flag with blood.
What is the difference
between vaccination
vaccination
and evacuation
evacuation
vaccination
vaccination
is an injection
it is an injection
and you take it
and you might die
if you wait a bit
evacuation
evacuation
is having a shit
and the chances are
you are going
to survive from it.
For me the pandemic will never be over because it was never about a virus. It was a phenomenon of people engaging in a lethal game of 'pretend'. For some reason the TV began spewing a mountain of terribly obvious lies and instead of people just going 'OK sure buddy' - they became as a mass of dancing, defeated, and terrified murdering maniacs - of course eventually I came to see that this was because these people had allowed themselves over time to have their imaginative and their creative faculties voided from them.
With no ability to create stories out of a self-reliant imaginative faculty - the people have no ability to perform any judgement about the lies that they are being told and no ability even to apprehend lies as such. They are no longer human in that sense.
When the members of society capitulate the right to create their own stories - the result is always the same - mass murder - cheered - as the saviour and liberator. Death becomes the new life as Orwell predicted.
Imagine a white hot
lashing slashing rope
of silver magic semen
mercurial
a gasping pope
a fontanelle
imagine
an open mouth
going south
sucking down
the mirabel
imagine a heaven
as apposite and paltry
for your living anal hell.
Snug kitten type moments
saccharine refrain
beauteous pseudo propriety
now and again
=
soft silken sweet laughter
tickling the drain
plain flat emotion
cork popping champagne
=
fragrant smug smiling
now and again
sweet kisses for mileage
to never remain.