canny addiction,clouts its irresistible tolls,still from its
remotest plunge of cloudy distant hills,when thou doststay ,retribution
although far distant,upon the distant fields,unsubmerged,shall be cherished
and revisited
for consequences and karma knoweth
no barrier,as their identity growls in fiasco,of where the culprit shall
be,at a given time,but guilt kills faster its offender,since,it cannot be
broken,from the heart,to recall comedies and plenitude of errors,assigned to
recompense,when thou art fail to notice,but so much of sombre earth and
saturnalia boat,wrought upturned,i must not ridicule,in every
context,ridicule retribution and the fury of its oracle,that penalises
blissful ignorance,But heaves tears with its breastplate,can It saves?
Contro. Sonnet-45-The combat betwixt lust and love,tore down,the ages,should
the trojan war,unabashed by wiles of maddening dogs,ranting around Hellen Of
Troy,kidnapped by paris of Troy,Gone are the glorious times,and permit me to
observe,consequences and retribution,tiptoe and pathfind art of offence and
defence,the first offence,not minding its consequences,thereafter,cognisancf
of sword of damocle swears and quieker to defend,but behold,retribution is
the reward and price of....
offence.desideratum for freedom,is
scuttled,given its imperious psychological influence,for when the brutish
storms are percolated,in graver guilt of squandered esteem to thee,thy life
as slaves to lust,can barely be retrieved,plummets beneath this lifelong
punch of blistering struggle,somewhat eternal guilt ,until engraving is done
and the boozers,pimps,sluts and philanderers,come to remorse,sweet
roses,dainty to smell are much far away,by those rancour,meted to thee,in the
headlong rash of struggle,who without resolve but impervious,now cannot be
healed by tender care of solicitude,of thy unfair sojourn,masquerading freewill,blight
of convalescence,but then no longer,assuage,And return to remorse,to garnish
thy faith a restitution and regurgitates thy self.Contro.Sonnet-46-Conquest
of desideratum,not in itself an anathema of mortal aplomb,How to eschew
offence with dire consequences,blurs a misty eyes,thy indulgence,blots thy
eye,the freedom of veracity,thyself endorse that thou in fable,doth lie,a
deeper
06/24/2017 12:08am
sore,that can be only be cured in
due time,but maddening rants,doth negligence pay a sloth,And says that
consequences,do not matter,to justify salacity,as the norm and public
domains,a hint of dire consequences of meretriciety,all miscreant come to
obeisance,And by the consequences,their wanderlusts submerged misty eyes
nebula,due its bibliomaniasis and sangfroid mettle in part,And to stress, the
throng of obnoxious goof,is to fret tuturship, and remorseful wraith,to the
rescue. Contro.Sonnet-47-The struggling ferocity, betwixt lust and love,is
like that of the feet,tongue and the eyes,And pair by pair, fires their
entities from bad turns to good turns, what thine eyes have observed,let not
thy tongue utter and if thou art famished to utter it,thou by thy feet,shalt
be bound by thy tongue, or heart in deception,swims in deceit,doth grope in
the dark,its misty eyes. What thy eyes have seen thy tongue art bound, And
then arts is slaughtered,when thy heart is deceived, and every move by
nebulous salve and..
nebulous feet and hazy eyes,an
helical of pandemonium,ye mince by heart,not cut thy folly,that thou
mayest,not factitiously observe,in thy recurrent skirmishes betwixt lust and
love?And each straying foot,doth burn,acatalectic guitless part,So either,by foul
play or by holistic treat,thyself thy art,still translucent with
thyself,delivereth over the long haul,selfesteem,for thou not scribble nor
craven thee,in thy identity,cast forth,And i still with legacies of youth and
they with me,scrummy and scrumptious,not for once,with a scruppy,and
scrupulous scrutineered,they with me in mine righteousness and probity,prompt
i to interrogate thee,in mine sight,treachery of youthful guiles,Awake in
thine heart and let thy hazy looks see.Contro.Sonnet-48-How mean was i,when i
grew up in a penury and contentment,Each conceited strife, with mine haggard
bones contend'st,that to mine temptation,licentiousness,of salacious wights
abound the countrified,from opprobrium rocketing opprobrium,they swing ov'r
intense scruff.....
And swim with scandal,in surest
frequency to tempt i,but thou,to whom shekels and jewels of contentment
kept,art bedecked,restraineth thy hands from lascivious thriffles of
youth,most worthy villains,still now they prowl,being mine vilest grief,thou
best of dearest remorse,of best,i care,in the jungle of covetous
cannibals,remorse maketh the best sinew out of a resilient art,thee have i
pluck,in thy remorse,to exemplify mine course at the summon of the interval
for convalescence,feed where thou art learnt,thou out of feeblest pawn,i
learnest well,with gentle embrace,of tutorship healest bone,healest
faster,from whence consequences evanesce and normalcy entrench,that thou
mayest insulate from harsh bite of the furious sun and its smokescreened
verdict,even than thou wilt be impervious and fetid with no counsel,thus
dread for ken ,with no counsel,by reverting to the same vomit,pays the gutter
price of retribution.Verdicts are born,to reproofand refrain mortal
foibles,from the indignities of artistic time,
Contro.Sonnet-49-Time against
time,countless wars we wage,when shall we become,its jolly fellows,rather
than mere fiendish covetous,wherein hast become man's greatest mountain,when
thy lust,hath cast ridicule,on its person, And utmost revile by mortals,causes
it to disdain mortar art,altogether assembled to scrutiny,by mere inquisition
of esteem of sapien arts,to castrate this nebula,time maketh its final
judgement,when thou stealthily slumbers on thy bed,And barely tinker with
it,how to amortise mortal pawnbrokee's burden in a civilisation,that burden
that artisans and technocrats,froth steep to repay,thine misty eyes
cannot,when lust stole from thee,the sinew of thy youth,from payment of its
cummulative outstandings,it was,shall bankrupts find solace,in lustful
league,Against that infest,do i my legacy,laid for posterity,yet
unknown,restrain'd within insidious ingrowing of disvantaged childhood,And
this importunity and youthful resistance,pricked my legatees,to mimic golden
feet of a stormy petrel,to
guard thy judgement and seek
entreaties in that concerns thee,to leave distress and regurgitates,from
livid prime?Why Battle,since I Can for a cause. Contro.Sonnet-50-How arduous
it is,to sojourn in an alien land,without its breadth,unravell'd and
decipher'd,when what we seek is nigh,why that logics,that wit to infer,to
deplete frugal mile
06/24/2017 5:22am
we seek is nigh,why farthest
plunge and weary travel?A frosty profligate means and why that logics,wit to
infer."thus,to deplete fest of frugal miles,shall be to fritter away
posterity yet unknown"Why impugn time's sagacity so much?how heavy
burden,do i bear,in my heart ,when what i wills,my weary passion desecrates
doth infer that volition and ambition events differently,to conform.Thus
likewise,indicates events that shaped sapien lives,are determined by
exterior,posterior and interior influences,the infection that bears thee
addiction,exasperated with undissimilar affliction,props up directly,from
such influence,to bear its fruit,and dire consequences,in man, As if by some
fustigation,the infected, did know,his vector,immuned,not the predator, being
repressed from its guillotine,the bloodfeud cannot excite nor provoke its
defeat,that sometimes immolates,thrusts thy volition into blistering
competition and struggle,Which densely,it imprecates with a protracted grouch
and resistance more poignant to thee...
than mere incursion into the
struggle,for that same steely resistance doth pompous incontestable,goads its
triumph,victory lurks upon thhs trajectory and my remorse,not incriminated
nor surmounted by whatever.Contro.Sonnet-51-Thus pithily,can thy freedom be
bargained,to neuter as a nymph protrusive offence.Of parlous defence to
castrate the hangman,the public executioner of corporeal moorings,when from
thee art found wanton,from which vile,thou art turned sadomasochism,into a
craft,like thy ilks,why shouldest not pity remorse,tis thy stress of
harrowing writhe,ignite beyond its mean? O,what fortune will tardy resistance
ordnance brings,when distress spiral,cannot by its afflict and inflict,be
abated?then,shall i not spurred a rugged stance,thou supplanted,though
hobbled,on a quirky counterpoise?remorseful candour no regret,shall be
...with thy pedagogue,launch retreat therefore craves of benigned
transmutation,intervened shall hail no bogus decrepit,in this fiery paroxysm
of contest,and volition for ambition
06/24/2017 7:17am
than a bewitched sands,gawked by
covetous lewd,when locust eaeon,confront thy arm and retribution revisits the
woes of a lothario nor mesh his crave,nor in the struggle's burningfire,shall
not be quenched,the infected epoch of the contagion,against obloquy and
immanent ignominy,shalt your venture be and the mensrea for freedom,be not
fouled as gauchy as the unborn timesbeyond shall thou soar,that judgement to
root out the headstrongapostasy,thyself arise,to butcher the intents of
sadomasochists. Contro.Sonnet-56-Golden guilt by its quilt,bespoke thy
force;be it not price resisted,thy resolve should poignant be than its
treacle,which by passage of time is retarded,today's resolution sharpeneth
yonder heights,So,passionate be thou,penitence envelops thy misty eyes,now
even untill full blast,spirit of struggle,sordid plow,didnot quarrantine the
ballads,do not massacre lethargy,besidesits rattle,this sullen state doth
anew begin,they contendwhere two,ocean struggle never parts and flowing
streams,gash not flux,
than a bewitched sands,gawked by
covetous lewd,when locust eaeon,confront thy arm and retribution revisits the
woes of a lothario nor mesh his crave,nor in the struggle's burningfire,shall
not be quenched,the infected epoch of the contagion,against obloquy and
immanent ignominy,shalt your venture be and the mensrea for freedom,be not
fouled as gauchy as the unborn timesbeyond shall thou soar,that judgement to
root out the headstrongapostasy,thyself arise,to butcher the intents of
sadomasochists. Contro.Sonnet-56-Golden guilt by its quilt,bespoke thy
force;be it not price resisted,thy resolve should poignant be than its
treacle,which by passage of time is retarded,today's resolution sharpeneth
yonder heights,So,passionate be thou,penitence envelops thy misty eyes,now
even untill full blast,spirit of struggle,sordid plow,didnot quarrantine the
ballads,do not massacre lethargy,bestridesits rattle,this sullen statedoth
anew begin,they contendwhere two,ocean struggle neverparts and flowing
streams,gash not flux,
wanning at the banks and flexing
at the mean shores,when they meet,in the boat,more blessed,when torn by
strife,never call it a day and thrive,where piscatories,running foul of
fishing hooks and fishing nets,stik waddled tis the vague shores'contending
might relaxes. Contro.Sonnet-57-Be thyself,a karma,what shouldest thou not do
to others,the awesome golden rule,but tend upon the times of recuperation,burlesque
of profligated morn and the burglary of time,art prevalent with nigges,nor
preferences,are tedious,to carress till thy interference increase,its
bulwarky ebulliency at its prime,nor dare thee chide thyself,not to
binge,with clamour whilst i my surveillance,hoots and chants plaudits,for thy
recuperation, nor thy show lethargy,at its bewitched sands,frothy brisky not
to transmogrify it,when thou hast chosen to extinguish thy ambiguous
willpower and bade farewell to extinct saturnalia boat,nor dare to revert
back to the same vomit,with a cajole that wheedles and recalls misty
eyes,wherein thou might be...
06/24/2017 9:04am
imprisoned with thy petard
hoisted,in reverse again by psychosomatism and neurosis.Or thyself as
captivity captive,but like a sequel and penultimate vomit,brood of its dire
consequences,Ectasy,where thou climb,how contented to make the
resourcefulness of thy state,so prolific,a steam is resolution and
ambition,that in thy willpower,though with addendum of perception,being
everything,maketh hay,with substance. Contro.Sonnet-58-That
interference,entangle that made thee thy golden resolve,should in grand
style,retreat from hedonism,as it were in the locust years or at thy
willpower,the disgusting anals and checkered chronicles of a remnant of
inglorious escapades be learnt from,By thy companion,bound to spike thy wiser
verdict,eschew suffocation,disengage thy feet at the deadlock of bandwagon
jumpers,the mammoth in gaol of their liberty,brainwashed by
casuistry,chartered with no guilt,frosty tamest sufferance at will,without
further tangled ado,be discreet to recoup locust years,thatthy gladiator
might be potent
to avert impending doom
hence,clings to thy heart,thy bolthole,refrain from being bilked by
thyself;for man's self is his greatest enemy,thus shall thou transfigure,into
thy own freedom,since from vile to art direst plunge,i thou wast willful
lured,towards thy transfigure,i"ll force thee,to run and give
expressionism to catalyse ambition for freedom. Contro.Sonnet-52-So,as thou
art penitent as thou claimest,whose benediction can bring thee back to the
years locust had eaten,recoup selfesteem,a calibration with which every
mortal will not indure,a pizzazz for keeping fine struggle of oecumenical
justice,chastity and all righteousness,therefore are the banquets to
celebrate saints of public justice andpublic temple,since barely in the long
strugglelike wars and ailments ,infected art is bashed in the middle of
nowhere and sometimes no return,so isthe time of convalescence that keeps,burning
in the heart,or as the saturnalia boat,in whichthe binging stigma doth
greedily stigmatise,to plaid mitigating antidote
for its banish,by unfolding
strategems,to lax thy imprisoned pride,blessed are those whose intergrity and
selfesteem are protected,being stressed to triumph,sweetend self,enraged to
be freed. Contro.Sonnet- What is thy substance,when thou art slave,within
bond,that vilest shadow tended on a direst clouds,witherest go,each with its
vybe,struck on the indian files,hath verve,And thou,by one salve,every shadow
flees,unveil thy spouse no further,and thy sloven state thou changest not,on
sullen plow,all great actions by muster grew, And thee by ridiculous art ,a
moulder as a sadomasochistic tyro,knoweth dire consequences of plow,the paddle
and its saturnalia boat,speaks of thyself,thy novel substance,the brass doth
vile in thy benighted dusk,and thy remorse,not yet blithering and hilted,to
foist the lascivious stigma,by alien influence,still not diminished in some
cases, but thou like none, and resolved for the mutative plough.
Contro.Sonnet-53- is posted above
and contro.sonnet 54 ,posted below, as indicated
Contro.Sonnet-54-O how much more
of penitence doth thy psyche beams,by one holly candour,swallow thy guilt and
regret, which passionate doth give,the injunction delivers consequences,but
fairer and harsher,when it deems verdict obeyed,for that golden consent,which
doth in it abide,And the effect have influence,cast aboard,as alterable
implication of its order obeyed,abode in that throng and livery lively as the
cricket,when mortal fate masquirade,compete direst clouds ,but for its golden
fleece,only then is the villain known,may live in limbo of art,wooded to
stray,do not die indigo dye,to invent.Misty eyes like gumptionless roses of a
shallow fields,welded with shallow buds,as blunderbuss and lurid shores
invade,And so,of mutation,fastidious and pertinacious distills ,when the dust
shall unfolds,fondling with consequences direst contend. Contro.Sonnet-55-Not
bullion nor the giltedged palaces,of kingdoms yet unknown,of princes yet
unborn,of zurich 's gnomes not yet seen,shall satisfy thee,with treasure
trove
06/24/2017 10:49pm
of the golden yonders,but thou
shall contend to glow in thy reprieve.
06/25/2017 7:46am
Contro.Sonnet-59-If there be
norms,but that which is built by hays,unseen of the posterity and uninformed
by how then are the succession of change sees so brightly to moot the right
change,which given by consequences of events and outcome of history and
scorecard,do glaringly and grudgingly,invariably bear trends amiss,the second
hurdle,of an interference.O that yoked art,arts under duress of condition
could with stressed verve misfire,Even of a mere entanglement and
encumbrances of a domestic ado, unfolds its longuer sinew in those
infinitesimal accidents,since neurosis at psychos as sickos,first notified,
by countenance,rather than by characters' scorecard,that thou might see above
what ordinary folks,could not see,intergrity composed of selfesteem,fits like
a fiddle,a man's frame,we are villains or saints,or whether evolution of
norms mutates or not, o am so sure,change is a permanent mountain and a
permanent valley that mortals ,must climb up and down,to subject every mortal
and matter to judgement,a....
Contro.Sonnet-59-If there be
norms,but that which is built by hays,unseen of the posterity and uninformed
by how then are the succession of change sees so brightly to moot the right
change,which given by consequences of events and outcome of history and
scorecard,do glaringly and grudgingly,invariably bear trends amiss,the second
hurdle,of an interference.O that yoked art,arts under duress of condition
could with stressed verve misfire,Even of a mere entanglement and
encumbrances of a domestic ado, unfolds its longuer sinew in those
infinitesimal accidents,since neurosis at psychos as sickos,first notified,
by countenance,rather than by characters' scorecard,that thou might see above
what ordinary folks,could not see,intergrity composed of selfesteem,fits like
a fiddle,a man's frame,we are villains or saints,or whether evolution of
norms mutates or not, o am so sure,change is a permanent mountain and a
permanent valley that mortals ,must climb up and down,to subject every mortal
and matter to judgement,a....
06/25/2017 8:49am
cannonade,that ages have,given
plaudits like the gods. Contro.Sonnet-60-Like as the winds,maketh a vitriolic
judgement,upon all mortals combined,cast beyond shoreless jungle,so do nature
reservest change,the esteem to judge,ridden by time,to err,end and beginning,in
every toil,uncensured,as the prime arbiter,over all shores,do contendest not
its imprimature naively,in limbo of resistance,causes all
mortals,to............to its notoriety,whether crowned as villains or
saints,retribution either saintly or villainous surgical crooked elipsis,pays
the price of freedom,the price of every ado.Time in its oval,doth imprint its
sojourn on its entreaties,charters mysticism of the bulge,flung in its lap
and nebulous brows,feet thou,the frequencies of truth,it dispenses,and Not
the thing that exults,And yet to err,in vague optimism,thou purport,thy
verve,shall withstand,that terror,that thyancestors of blessed memory,across
millenia fled,beneath the earth,and eulogy of thy art,is like a ridicule,that
soon be overwhelmed
by the patient warrior of thy
bewitched sands.Contro.Sonnet-61-Is In thy esteem,that the sullen earth
should persist,mine salient past to thy misty eyes? Dost thou hanker as mine
legatee,should break the ligament,while binges and sadomasochism,clings like
to thee,doth mock the glorious anals and genteel mooring? is it in thy valour
that thou hallowest not selfesteem,so fain,to abstain from this sulks of
shamelessness and shameless being,the length and breadth of thy consequences?
Oh no licentiousness,though notorious to thee,is not so lethal,it is thy
misty eyes that keeps and infest lascivious guilles,brisky? mine own caring a
hoot or a fig that doth thy contumacity a disdain,to play the guilles
evermore,at the rapture of addiction,for thy brutish end;for thee relenteth
not its tentacles,whilst thou dost binge and lust after a strange woman
everywhere,far be it from thee,that thou shouldest persist,degenerate,in a
whore of sloven mores.
Contro.Sonnet-62-Malediction of
self adulation,that protrodeth,salacity from its umbilical
cord,sadomasochism,and all thine springboard and thy radicle,engulf this
marrow,and for this incardine that murky gloom,thou art paid dearly,for which
there nemesis instincts,and rid off, thy neurosis,from this soulful lay of
entanglement,there is no spur,as brave as thy portentous sulk,No bend so
false, and so fatal,no consequences so lethiferous,And for nemesis,thy own
astray and straying heart,doth pays dearly,And every reward blossoms from
every goodwill,and when fate shows thyself,incriminated by its dire
consequences,mine own selfpity itself,contrary disdains thyself,of self
adulation,And so,brutish shall the misty eyes feed and repay karma,tis thy
remorse is holy as the crystal seas,self pity profiteth not,and pouring
frosty plaudits on mean values,lengthens its darkest hours.
Contro.Sonnet-63-To nymph thy affliction,shall sinew be,as i saintly be,with
the sting lascivious guile,not yet outwitted,when binges...
binges have draineth thy vigour,
and darkeneth thy cheeks,with disrepute,when thy fortitude is overstressed
and outmoded,hath suffused thee aboard,as a villain,And all those vista as
ambushed scenery of voluptuary seabed,whereof consequences unseat,are
threatening thee,with nemesis,for such happenstances,so much
unpremeditated,must thou fortify,against the mountains nigh thee,that he
shall not be smothered by its fatal consequences,my sweet remorse,though
binging still delusive,And its stigma that stigmatises,shall in this remorse
state,be curtailed,and nirvana shall thou return, o nirvana shall thou
return,and tranquility thy eternal shallom.
Contro.Sonnet-64-When have i by
legacy,sullen barefaced,the ostentatious shekels and velvety treasured trove
of the capsized saturnalia boat,overworn,when most times perished they,in
their metaphorical avalanche,the mammoth of his ilks,And crass transit,as
they ilk,infelicitous and infernal,fled to lowlands and indigo-ed
complacent,When have i induced,the addicted folks,distangled to merit on the
metamorphosis of the infirmity,And the sloven earth's triumph of the prisoner
of war,racketeering verve from conscience,accelerating serfdom,bankrupt with
avalanche of serfdom,Or price itself paid,escalated to crease.Addiction hath
my pensive erudite,thus to quit so much early,that dire consequences will
comeand like a thief in the night,whiskaway thy unbriddl'd
freedom.Behold,this kismet knoweth notthe mammoth and strike
impromptu,without infraction of nature. Contro.Sonnet-65-Since binges nor
addiction,its sloven earth,nor its saturnalia boat's atrophy but direst
consequences,outwits its molasis of voluptuary lewd
How with this unfairness,shall
infection hold a chaste,whose abrasion,is no fiercer nor ferocious than a
hangover?O now shall the boat's vampired oddysey softland,against
whirlwind,or hurricane siege at sea;When billows inundated,are not so clement
to spare,the hulk,nor meanness of the shore,so fragile but days unknown?O
repugnant remorse,where alack,shall time's borderless affliction,most
grandiose item,from time's soidisant and selfwritten oddysey,adorned
thee,with mortal hell?Or what esteemed psyche can defray his swashbuckling
intent of sunny times and days?Or whose contaminates by infection can alter
glorious ambition,O none unless,this providence have willing,that in
distress,in my nuances,may still leap forward. Contro.Sonnet-66-Exasperated
With this miasma,for direst clouds,flung overboard,i groan,And by will to
berserk,desert woman born,a terrific pang,and ghastly discharge,moulded out
of nihilism,and finest child,holistic girth foreordained, And gilded sojourn
in sloven earth,beautifullyblasted...
And maiden glory of newborn
child,convincingly rooted,on the checkered sands of time,And the boat's
capsized paradigm,an allegorical poetry, and a landmark of the greyhack
press,and suffused its tingle by imprinted sands over its slattern soil,and
folly no more,convalescent smitten defacto craft,and specious vain breath
misconstrued as trademark zombies,And captive good release from theft of
neurotic incarceration,how thou art captain of thy fate,not tired of this
melange,would be gone too soon,before thy time,otherwise,direst clouds
banging over thy boat,might soon capsize,with thee at mid stormy seas.
06/26/2017 1:06am
Contro.Sonnet-67-Alas,wherefore
with infection and addiction,should thou live,And with dire consequences,gone
too soon,that binges and debauchery by zombie's groove,should tingle and
glide itself upon thy wanning soul?why should misty eyes,be routed by
specious cheeks,And filth of thy stain,a scarred regalia of a lifetime?why should
addiction be adorned as a trademark,garnished with roses of contagion since
specious cheeks masquierades as misty eyes?why should thou live as insolvent
soul,ur chined by carcasis of thy filth to bland thy discreet self?that thou
hast no blanket cover,against artlessness,stinks but a ridicule of thy
discreet self,And insomnolence of arts,hath its exchequer court,in the
parlour psyches.O thou art like a rudderless bank,wherein ships barely bay,to
show what folly,thou art,rusted,in the frenetic pawn of artlessness,thou
might be gone too soon. Contro.Sonnet-68-Thus,shall the sullen cheeks,viled
by its sporadic tempest,outlive the flummoxed artist,when binges and
licentiousness..
coagulate,cast over this gallowed
whirlwind,barely powwow the dastardly omens of the immanent direst clouds, Or
raise an incense,apposite to incest,salacity and sadomasochism,as potion ,as
curatives,to inhabit transquility,with the leadened brows,prior to golden
troves,which are carted away,in sepulchres and predated, bashed by second
fiddle-hood,to sigh but never sighed,to heave a lasting relief,every beauty
that cringes,only to itself are nothing but an imprecated benediction,In this
moulder,applique is as worthwhile,as the antique.All things are immanent to
themselves,tis is tested by malediction,making no fudge of the green lush of
a wanderlust.And thou,a false witness,before evidences' forays. Without
ligament,rootstock and equitable assemblage,all plant species and apes,are
nothing but growth ornaments,in thy store.And a nature's spring is the seed
of its destruction and its rainment of ravishing rai.son d'et.re,towards
apotheosis.
Contro.Sonnet-69-With all those
sinewy,embedded in thy ramrod and imprisoned in thy impregnable bone, all
06/26/2017 10:07am
all realms,even beyond thy
impiety,cannot impugn with impetuousity thy vacuous impassibility,to
remorse.An Impropriety,AndImpropriety,that only thy providence can
alter.Unveilingthe truth bare,as it were,thou art being imprisoned,by thy
intendments and thy volition,hardpressed by st.blues,and thalt be freed by
same,But those intents,that give thee, a transmogrification and transit
thee,into a novel widget,to this eulogy,well beyond confounded realm.To see
beyond its dire consequences and wedge of its direst clouds,maketh a providence
of art,uttering the accents of the gods,perceiving beyond the realms of
disgusting beauty.And in that intent,cast bile away,to enslave,what notion
direst clouds might ambush thy posterity,Although, unfair flowers,spew vile
of the providential intent,thy fragrance,it emits holistically,watereth a
blissful posterity,not by thy seeds,which thou soweth,by impending harvest of
dionysian intent's importunity.Thy blandishment,at once is superlative,as a
neuter of the treachery of sloven
intent and its impressment.
Contro.Sonnet-70-That thou be not exonerated,for this gale of impressment,for
impropriety stigma,was ever yet the penitence,for the aromatic bespoke of
arts,to groove.A penitence that instigates in the innermost bossom of the
heart's impecable grail.So,thou be intendment pensive,eagerbeaver doth but
impress impressario,thy wedge the impostor,being wooed of imposture,for
imprecate vile,the bitterest birds,doth unleash the leaven of havoc,and thou
incurest a besmirched boor of a bothersome plaid,thou hast evanesced esteem
by the carteblanche to arcadian bliss,boddle and hedonistic
bric.a.bracs,ambushed thy golden intent of unpremeditated bootstraps,and like
an enchantment,thou art charmed and a wisp,a cannon fodder,humus and
debris,for the burning fire,yet by this,thy destiny cannot be impugned,to tie
thee up,in the bitterest clouds,for the days of machiavelli.If some
penitence,be then impressment,to betray volition,thy convalescence,might be
elusive and not deciphered.
Contro.Sonnet-71-Do not cry for
the direst clouds,when they by windbound recompense strike,do not pest,when
thou art pilloried by karma,thou shall hear thy survival,when convalescence
bells rings,to graft thee with a scorecard,of the morning bliss once
again,that thou art insulated,from this villest soil, with the bilest hell,if
thou salve thee ebuliently well,then tread carefully,recall not thy wit of
erstwhile hell,for i foretaste thee to repent,that in thy fair flowers,thou
canst counterpoise,stalwarted by heavenly moisture,rejuvenated arcadian
bliss.If binges stink at a furlong,should make thee,ware of dire
consequences,when intent is meshed,with empirisus, rationality is enthroned,O
if thou witness once again its sullen gravity,thou lookest upon thy
gravity,when i peradventure,thou compounded with salacity,witless do,Does
thou with empiricism adores,for where it is transplanted,smarter deeds are
supplanted,and fatal men of errors,belching with comedy of errors,decay and
wanton crest,found fatal ,lest....
06/27/2017 12:32am
found in the city.Not to rehearse,
by memory its forecast of dire consequences,could proof the fatal, lest the
wise become fooler and the fooler ,becomes foolest and chaos fly on the
street,in the sea,in the air and in the land.Froward not benign thee,off thy
ass. Contro.Sonnet-72- Now avoid ridicule,lest men should tast vice,with
shame,what values should thou subscribe to make thee show allegiance,to
them,afterwards of posthumous penitent-pensive tilt,rebuke quirky
camaraderie,at a forlorn mile,neuter their jungle,for in thy grit, thou
cannot by intendment be soiled,when thou art resolved.Unless,thy art so
virtuous spared,thou waiver but abundantly whacked,to do more damage to
dainty passions,on the st.blues.not yet salvaged,from the executioner's noose
and defray plaudits instead,for salacity and boozing,to beguile,what mincing
words would torrently pass.O lest thy time,heart may seem brutish,in that
foul tongue and murky customs,speak guile of thy nature,and self
esteem,interred in thy sloven earth,when
when thou art still fowled and
germed by salacity,And still liveth with a strange creature,in an alien land
neither thee wacky nor thy wacko,as a vulgarian,vulgarises thee canst nebula
doused,shall thy resolve be free.Art thou not fied with lifelong stigma? And
thou should normal trades thy love. Contro.Sonnet--73-That time of
benediction,thou mayest,in thee behold,when fair flowers and sweet roses,or
avalanche or artesian wells do blanket erstwhile slothful soil like a
chilling fog.Upon those mountainous allied pleateaus,which protrudeth against
the valley,dunghill metaphors and hellish sward,Barefaced ridicule
haunted,where flung thy art,was impugned by it,in thee,thou sweetest
revenge,shall be sinew of a remorseful state,the blinking emerald of a new
dawn,long after the sunset of the primrose bank.Which by its direst
clouds,doth take thee asunder,for the contest of intergrity and much
maligned,much evaporated selfesteem,that seals up the greatest battlefield of
mankind, aristamagnetism,In thee,thou
seest the glorious,are captivates
at its wits'end,that quirky gales be of slothful soil,doth blown away.As
glowing fire charcoals,whereon,it stoop,must obey,consumed with bias,with
which it was passionately glowed,this perception thou shouldest not
binge,which maketh thee,an indeterminate human superior,to which,wits end
must be mated with perception. Contro.Sonnet-74-Be thou contented,with
selfesteem,through which thou settest customs and binding practices,when thou
art faced,with below paradigm,ridicule thy bloated potion,fly everewhere thy
legacy.without importunity,thou wouldest not be bailed,from it,and thy life
,a ridicule before thy time.Shower thee,some interest in the reminiscences of
sloven earth and rudderless banks. Still with thee,shalt thou stand,when
reviewest thy sordid past?thou dost recall none,to consecrate thyself,against
impending dooms; for sullen earth cannot be but sullen eath,hidden beneath
quirky pall of vapid idiosycrazies. the by superiory clash of human
species.So,then thou hast
lost thy esteem,to the debris of
the earth,caught in the welters,amidst welshers,villains of unkemptsoil,whose
direst cloud,is symptomatic of sword of damocles pending,and a pint of
ridicule,is in the natureof its conjectured sorcery.Contro.Sonnet-75-O thou
my legatee,inherit,digest and inhale,this paubulum,in a crimson season of
fair flowers,gathered in their lows and prime,barely rot away eternities.In
this tranquility,grim-death shall be supplanted headlong,in a lifelong
voyage.As betwixt,esteem and disrepute,is found in my struggle,not to defray
infection and infected sickos,contaminate of slothful earth,to pilfer thee
away,from treachery,struggling for the most pristine art,then worsted by its
gravest clouds,most times true remorse is by sober reflection,than
extrapolate and exhortation by alien tongue,to hood thy signatory of appended
intent,starved of misdeeds of an obstreperous earth.Save what is reflected
and true remorse is candidly betoken,to care much morethan a hoot,for the
transmogrified art....
06/27/2017 5:38am
or binges in its eternal memory
wither. Contro.Sonnet-76-Why is that refrain,so tedious a bile,for thee to
bear? insofar as dire consequences,its variegated piles of agony,indisposed,
to change? why wit time fret,thou derided? why cherish i still repentance ever
the same and keep that intent in a bustling ado,that every item of pensive
tilt,doth tardier dismayed,exuding their penultimate influences and where
prior,they damage,O salve thy good,remorseful intent,thy ultimate price to
freedom,this wish i did not spare of thee and mine bone of contention,so all
mine intent is drawing thee of arrogance,frugal with penitence to thyself and
to manifold sapien species,for as thou resisteth,to remorse thy spouse,in
both old and new wounds,thou mouldest findeth good mettle,to guilt thyself.
Contro.Sonnet-77-Thy benighted rupture will show thee incurable and moorings
filthy.And thy plunge contemptible,hurled beneath nefarious norms,gullible
imprint,shallowed thy fist.And of this stray of dastardly act,moment......
reprieve,is requisite balm, of
sombre wrinkles,glaring in the face,of mouth's tumour,that disengages glibly
spoken ,of rancourous memoirs,tearing us apart,that thou by sinister intent
,stealth mayest abnegate them,within time's masticating furacious theft of
fate.Hence,we reach a poreless shores and all entangled nets and geniculated
axis,still begging to pay the price of freedom. Look,recall what history says
and tells thee and depart in earnest,from this wasteland laden with
squandermania venoms,of vultures rampaging conquest of mean-less or gilded
shores,And thou with thy nursed progenies,will then salvage,the grueling
hordes and envoys of saturnalia boat,from this blissful ignorance.And this
convalescence,soft as the glow,shall lucrative explore,in compendium,the impecable
whole. Contro.Sonnet-78- Songs Of Adamatine,did Sadomasochist,barely refrain
to tinker."So Oft have they indur'd the stigma for the smeared eaon.And
every delectable damsel,has pelt the nugget and nozzle of my manhood,And
beneath thy
joyance,sandness full.thy holy
eyes,that taught thy youthful days,to dope with same salacity,that thou now
tagged saintly,should be censured,for being haunted with improvidence and
insensate to empathy,twinkled by youthful sinew,how come thou deign,so froth
spined liberty in troth,like an ulster for righteousness,Had grooved turgid
licentiousness,in thy youth,to later transmogrify and days of sacerdotal
engrave leapfrog, And time's aethetical tolerance of clemency,gave so much
grace period,to penitence.Yet,be not ample empathetic of this gracious
gesture,from that which earnestly i inquire from thy household,whose tacky
influence,thou didst gravely exploit for remorse.Art thou not born of the
same crust,that thou mayest bamboozle for penitence? foibles of the mortal
parlor earth,dost take time to mend and arts,with no ebullience,may tardier
gross remorse:for when thou dost penitent tilt,thou art fully remorse,giving
graces,ointment to sigh a good sigh of relief,entrenched from the stigma of
the days of yore
Hence,let entreaty causes thee,to
apply the golden rule,and be as wise as a fool is wise,in the days of
treachery. Contro.Sonnet-79-Whilst loathe i did twinge for thy peculiar
resolve?Mine wonderment versed alone,had all the magical spells of an
expedient censure,from thy foul tongue.But now,my gracious grooves are plumpy
enthralling,to douse thy hackneyed resolve.And my providential treat,doth
give another torch,unleash i therefore,a censure,to sewer thy
traduce,travailing calumny,to cajole thy witless jackdaws and cult of
sadomasochist like his ilks,deserves earnestly also,the applique of golden
rule,to balance uneven equation,yet what of thee, thyself,thy guile,doth
braggart. Thou didst target youthful villainous sinew,when thou didst
rebel,against the holy grail,time lends thee grace and amortise o pawnbrokee
and yet,with the eruption of senility of the bough,thou restless cajole
hapless youth, hence be censured from what belabour,thou didst now
belabour,to impress modesty and chastity,upon the breast..
06/27/2017 8:26am
of swashbuckling youths?And nature
found it a fraud,sour than thy sullen cheeks are,frosty plaudits, heave i
thee,they boisterous sacerdotal......... that frittered away youthful sinew
as days of youth,with same offence.No panygery to thee,as thou didst stink
hell.Then curse not thy stars,but to thee,thou,thy volition and
sensationalism,thy voluptuous bank,that froth thee to err,to bilk.
Contro.Sonnet-80-O i shall not entreat thee,when thou art assymetrically
muse,pouring an equitable traduce,when doth i encroach thy bellyaching navel.
And In that frosty plaudits,thereof fritters away,all thy verve in seeking
adherents and hagiologies,to make thee guilt,laden and tongue tied,but since
thou presumed bulky nuances,wide as the ocean;thy foul tongue earnestly twinges
sullen earth and gooseberries as the bitterest clouds,doth bear its sagging
sail,even with my sordid intendment,far more,superior tact,to thy fabled
wimble upon thy sullen earth,doth perfectly broach subject well.
06/28/2017 2:11am
As minesenility in clamourous
guilt doth unremittingly infects,And refrains this wacko,in the tempest of
direst clouds;not that the frittered dusk,is less nonchallant in thy hone
than when the inglorious guilt did hover impending doom,but that weird
lewdness to the hilts,taunts every bough that rose too late,And songs and
cries in the day and night of a weary womb,lose their torch,to find
thee,therefore like the ambiguous shores,as thou art,will i not hold my
peace,because thy voluptuous bank,shall contend with passing days and passing
night.Contro.Sonnet-113- Behold,what nursery,this illbred garland brings,that
having such a contempt of thy youthful sinew,to show his recklessness,the
baseless dot,gets nowhere,thatthou shouldest,in undissimilar
context,fritterthy youth,with lust!Then,when it hathnature's recompense as a
malediction ! O exonerateexogenous influence,let alone fingers them.Letthy
libido,thy confinest grail,contends that overbearing blunt,that stalks quite
so easily intendment,in struggling times
and during struggles,with thy
innerself, were it not the direful cross of hades,why then the strife and
striving to mend,to elope from the scar of infamous mucky dusk,that was well
known to us?For to no wiles,thy tendons succumb,than of thy subserviency and
humour to mutate;And passion,much vaunted passion than in thine remorse could
penitent morsel by mucilage,bite,thy own naturewit,shows thee not unripe,when
thou art by thy mortal winkle,transmogrify. Contro.Sonnet-114- O unfair
roses,thou can never survive,nor a ridicule this knight of old,for thee,were
been smeared,when first thy gauchy eyes lust'd,a typified obscene
stings,wherein addiction,cannot deny,even doses and overdoses cannot
repel,mustering from its infection,rendered fugitive,selfesteem'sglorious
heirloom,billows upon billows,wobbling,voracious volcano,volleyed with roving
eyes,imrisoned by lust,a hilly mountebank of incestuous ridden inflamation,a
hone have i witnessed,like the perfume of Arabian,burntpersonage,stinks
gluttonously,like a lark
06/28/2017 7:28am
across the board,since first thy
foible,i uncover,which still yet sordid plough,oh yet entanglement doth still
knots,like a tangled bird,brisky for freedom and redemption at hand, so thy
mucky earth,which methinks still doth smears,hath infraction as friction and
thine eye may be obscured,so thy sloven soil for dread of recompense,thou age
with peril that defy insulation,ill bred mucilage,as fodder for burning fire
of karma. Contro.Sonnet-115-Let not mine chaste be dubbed a lethargy,nor my
kindred as a dumbshow,since all mine plea and supplication be,to mammoth
youth of uncanny days persist.Sacred is my chaste now and still a
hotpotato,in a wondrous pool of guilt and trauma,therefore mine chaste to
indefiniteness conform'd,excite ostentations to blot out its mark.
Contro.Sonnet-116-In this benigh,a conjugal bliss of chaste doth lends its
bent above misshap, and chaste is not chaste,which impugns substance to take
effect or bends its metalic sinew,even when altered, o it strays flawed,upon
its taint consumate
and grating blot.It is a dreary
mist to every wanderlust brew whose graphology,untainted beams forth,though
in hideous gram.Time's fury is punitive and a punitive orgy,though rose
cheeks unnerved,within his sinewy contumacity's complexion grumpy: chaste
alters not,with this gruffy ground and superheroic lust,but blankets diffused
for mutation,to the precipice,if this be comedy of errors and upon intent be
proved with retribution,barely i freestand nor no chaste without stanchion.
Contro.Sonnet-117-Be now no more a naughty jerk of grotesquerie,that thou
hast slanted every turn,wherein great chaste maketh a frenetic of a
guttersnipe,do not recall the dearest foul play,whereto all flaws to tie
thee,to guillotine by dusk;that frequency,thy fleeting kismet been modulated
by bent of fairest springs. Contro.Sonnet-118-And given to time to heal thy
fitment mortise,to retreat from customs that thou hast hoisted over direst
clouds and inglorious nights,which should ferry substance for
remorse,furthest plunged from..
farthest plunged from maudlin
shelf,both binges and lust,drowned beneath,And equity quell,thou
prejudice;tally remorse with bandwidth of penitence,bud but do not shoot
weird at thy volition in thy disgusted prowl,since mine pleading is writ to
wit,at thy wit's end,caresses,did i perchance strive,to fizz substance,the
purport and calibration of thy omnifarous chaste. Contro.Sonnet--119-Make thy
engross more keen,with grit as natural flavour,to remorse with
alacrity,palate and tendon instigates,as to boost floodtime and refurbish thy
flotilla,to distend and tame unknown,we retreat to fizzle chaste,when we
err,even so,being froth not unripe,clamourous of never ending contempt,to
belch acrimonious seasons,did i enthuse mine unfair girth,And a sick
patient,that pleads no entreaty,brew lethiferous potion of pitfall,to be
flinty ire that there was viable,thus tenets in chaste and chaste-bashing
commerce,to anticipate foibles,of foul play unborn,i,of checkered intense
peccadiloes,grew to treasonable venom......
And with such scorecard,by
annals,trickles down with sledge hammer on anvil,unfair roses,which flung
vile upon vile,abashed by ailment ,creases be,But then true pedagogy dreads
everything in scandals,a potion that so fell sick of manhood.
Contro.Sonnet-120- Were you not once,countless times chaste repellent,to
befriend mediocrity at thy spring?And for that impalement,thou vilest rabid
with kamikaze frankestein,to spite axiom that neccessity is the mother of
invention,unless thy nerves were brass,penitence thou distilleth not,at thy
ferrule,for if thou were by precarious unmoved,as i reproof thy mused despot
and pariah stance as a nation,have more relief and sigh to heave.To plow,how
once a terrain,wherein i was suffocated,in thy oblivion,that our dread of gales,unknown
might have subside,mine ignoblest wit,how hard postulate pomp,And so,soon to
you,as thy guile crimson,twice times a decipher,fugitive bossom of the
grovelling bandwagon jumpers,poisoned humble salve,Over thy prance,shouldest
thou prate,and thy
noisome wacko of pandora box,as
thy wit and satire be enamoured beyond omnibus sorts. Contro.Sonnet-121-Tis
better to know,impatience is vile and king of viles esteem'd.And to resist
reproof,thus overwhelmed deign,to censure incivility,not by garnished lust,but
by furtive poise poignant winces,Give trepidation to thy beguiling sport? Or
its requiems,why are they many times sung in vain,which in their
renege,volcanoic eruption of pandora box-incivility,dismantle what i dispose
. None excruciating on purport,am i not a bridge builder,that i am and they
fleas,in a fleabite at that strand ,must earnestly depart,At mine affront,thy
alert tendon-stimulating,mortifying and mutilating,immersed may be
poignant,though they themselves(erroneous youths inferred),dissuade remorse,By
their quirky corpus,fiendish bandwagons,doth barely spare,unless this
dickenish penultimate antecedence,and all men are vile in their art and
misdemeanour is not immuned from a typified corpus of wights and mucky
cheeks,garnished by lust......
Contro.Sonnet-122-Thy foibles,thy
crucibles,are within mine tempest boulder,undazzled,edified with befitting
love,which slings above that inclemency,stinking froth abide beyond ignoble
frequency,beyond omni-vantages,even walkie-talkied by its frequency modulation
of fugacity,Or so,to much aversion,so long and sturdy as the fastened
belt,and he marbled with rotund wit,by severity to apprehend;till a morsel of
the impiety,calf its malaise,thy ignoble reputation,never for once,can be
equalled.That parquet of pariah osmosis,could not but arouse its momentum,nor
efflux thy grit and oleaginous thresh of desideratum.therefore to show
penitence avidly,was i with unslackened fortitude,boiled forth, to thirst
remorse in thy bone marrow,libate them,to keep away from vices and garner
restitution of insolvent esteem.
06/28/2017 11:53pm
Contro.Sonnet-123- Refrain but no
guile,that thoushalt not be stained,in that which thou doeth.
Tentacles,vintage circa diffused with the freshest lewd,barely
wanes,methinks, are sordid past still hauting,noneless to scorn they are
sting,but arediffusions of novel ailments,enticed by dreary dolts and also
perverts of an incarcerated but fathom of an imprisoned ego.Our fate are
multipronged and differ and thus,we are whatwe choose to be.What thou
dostmortify upon thy navel that is salacity,And rather make thee,apalling
fastened to a deathknell thanremorse,that can be nurtured ,haveenslaved
thee,thy subconscious ego,and thee thyself both mortify by ill bred
gangrene,nowa wanderlust at thy vicinage,northy motherland eulogised,for
evidence is the taste of judgement,wedoth lie,with facts,fabricated byscorn
of chastity and votiveplummeted and this shall ever notsworn,not to miss.I
will be chaste at thy goofy neck,and chaste's scythe,shall not be unsword'd.Indeed,
Chaste Is a censure and a ridicule of reckless art.
Contro.Sonnet-124-If mine taste
turns stale,dread chaste,by mine kid,a stain and desecrate abstain,it might
for exemplification's cascade be a mirage,As subconsciously subject to
chaste's hatred,weeds upon weeds,shall they grow,it was by accident,an
evasive craft;it hurls into open contempt,nor a recess from scorn'st
scorn,obtains by neath of its enthralling enthralment unsubdued,whereto,the
passion for golden fleece,is bartered for salacity,it dreads not penitence
that strangulate which emasculates,by artistic freewills of sicky psyche,but
alone fastened with no anchor.That it burgeons nor swells with chance,nor
heat doused,to this i summon the fools to learn from fools,which dye and dice
cast upon the wise to beware of their footsteps and inundated propinquity.
Contro.Sonnet-125- Were caught
Were they not caught,in shreds
torn apart by its tentacle,with thyself esteem,immolate palmiferousely or
hood not conformed to vanity,which impost much more,with chide, than with
haste.Have i not witnessed the impolitics on the rampage and impanel its
malaise?Binges strut omnipotence,and frounced by reverence to ado,are impaled
for compound substerfuge,engrossing guiltless frivolities and pathetic banks and
fruitless rivers,in their womb dismayed?Now,let Me with this knight of old,be
frank with you,And take thou my siblings,froward but freethinking,being
furiously hotchpotched with artlessness,but mutual mockery and uncanny
art,still mere interference,maketh thee much more a brute,Hence,a scorned
street urchins,a truant of justice,impeached by salacity and drowned on the
high seas. Contro.Sonnet-126- O fret boy,but not in the wraith of
licentiousness,who in thy gravity,dost not hold renege,his fastened pandora
box-sword,not sheated,who hast by impenitence,grown stiff necked,thy
afficionados creeping,as thy
stinking self grow,if retribution
by its commonwealth arbitration,that is flung over ubiquity,as thou goest gnd
growest raptured,still its blanket,spareth not thee.Improvidence maketh not
thee,the spirit of retribution forgives,for she keeps to her verdict,with the
tricks of time,disdain,not the grandmaster with the frittered youth,but not
so,in the vagabond spirit of blissful ignorance,tear apart thy amplitude of
youthful exuberance,that thou shouldest not censure thy grittled bars of
lever. Contro.Sonnet-127-Character soars and swears more than words and
accents,even though, it is the intent of the former,O If it were otherwise a
mere wind wile,it bore theantecedence,afterward of its ostentatious
shortputter;But now chaste's sacred ignition,libidinous, And sateand state
smeared with impropriety expunge for,since,a per capital taint,hath i piqued
mortal guise's splendiferous poise,plunging beneath selfesteem and plethora
of artlessness's infection,spontaneous scold,hath no time&finis,no
bespoke,but ........
is unleashed,if not gangrene
smotes,in an aplomb vomit.Therefore,thy Misty eyes are ravenous
coccoon,smothered by its beguiling sport and ubiquitously,they freak,Sewn
with the same hewn,at such morbidity,who will now relish the equal share of
the retributive justice?And chaste frittered at thy beckoning,is likened to
thy false esteem's cankerworm weevils,Yet,they so bewails,when every verdict
returns in isolation and equal proportion"Grandmaster Paused glibly garb
and the deuteragonist,nigh gooseberies,fired anew his contemplative salvo.
Contro.Sonnet-128-'How oft,when thou catch time,thou canst play as
Daniel,upon thy ignoble den,whose potion sours,with hemlock of despair,when
thou feed'st acrimony,that thinesinecured image,contend.Do i seduce,those
jerks that wimble evenly on a balanced equation sordid cheeks,to kiss the
primrose bank of thy sullen feet,whilst mine poor retentive memory which
should that reflect,hath longuer.At the tardy feet of venom's emasculating
torch,blanding vanguard.To be so tinged
,they spot and sport their
identity, and commiserate barely,with the fading feet, o'er whom thy sharp
breath,adorns its genteel's lurk,making ignominous strides,more bless'd than
a scoundrel remorse,since ignoble jerks and porks in the porky pie,so
blissful hearted in plenitude,ostracise thy volant precipice,to chart a
lonely furrows. Contro.Sonnet-129-Chaste spanking in a wimble of lutarious
impairment,fame's glory,for every action and infamous ados is nothing but the
ignoble dalliance of the tainted glut.how inconsiderate for the spirit of
chaste to be wacko-ed by intemperate clowns still bilked by salacious
gangrene but piety to chaste impaired,demented by gregarious chants and
obsessed to his ilks.All scold scorned by purport,pleat ire at flight,before
dusk,heavenly bliss and self esteem rectitude ,yet none discredited,to shun
machiavellian ilks that leads men to tribulate ,is a proposed paradise,yet
unseen. Contro.Sonnet-130-Thy misty eyes spangled,blotted out of
vista,mistiness is far more crimson....
06/29/2017 5:00am
than thy lever or rudder,if vice
be white,why then its chaste refrain and if vale be thy above,its mound
,piles of viles crease on thy navel and marrow,Have i not been deserted by
fair roses and lampooned by idiopathy,that a forlorn mile,retreats out of
scorn,wherein there exert mere delight than in the nuttied and nutcased
breath of an alien,i scorn not chaste whatsoever,yet to comply and concur
that humus,hath in the moult,far more impetuous to breed remorse,a lease of
art,goddess of wrath never regret,mine foible,when trods tread on thin
air,tis vanishing point,And yet heavenly moisture,i crave my love ,a
guerdon,As any ignoble,she lamented her fate with obscurity.
Contro.Sonnet.-131- Wiles of art
are despotic groom of its hanker,As these wiles whose seduction,inertia
maketh a reproof,not downright feasible,for craft thou knowest it to be
crafty amidst unfairest spring of doting infiltrate,thou art fairest when
thou by humus moult spirited and infernal expurgate. Yet,in good chaste
brokered, when betoken by thy lusty mirage,hath no rudder to indure,to scoop
and feed from the avalanche of the grandmaster's artesian wells, Although,
Mean spirited folks,may stain like weevils,candid art brewery smouldered a
million perils but thou shouldest not defy voluptuous banks,shalt thou not
know sedentary garb on thy sinewy encroaches,to witness crumbling buffet,thy
chaste bigotry,is quite sordid plough,in a beguiling sport,thy judgement,a
brittle fray,in nothing but meanspirited ilks art thou humus
moult,refrain,And then this calumny,upon thy personage,infallibly disposes.
Contro.Sonnet-132-Thine scornful eyes,loathe i and they as a disdain,goonish
ponderous with contempt,that
baste and bruise remorse, have
held in captive,pompous cheeks and craving a dissident ilks,fastened with
plangent rot,upon my wheedle. And verily not the heavenly moisture of
penitence,by barter,turns the unfair roses of the saturnalia boat,nor that
iota of acatalectic binges,that unctuous in this rot,doth hath the resolve to
exile plenitude of penitence,As those vengeful thoughts,clamour
moults-refrain: a soul weather beaten, o let it not retreat, o spirit,let it
not abscond,to whack for selfesteem,given that thou knoweth apoplexy,doth
thee bringeth disgrace, at full blast,And suitors,thy bay vamoose.Then,will
thou swear some orgy of penitence herself,is a virtue,not to be forlorned at
thy tilt,And all nebula,girth beneath nefarious complexion,relinquished
impromptu. Contro.Sonnet-133- Bestrouded With beer money,rampaging with bell
boys,pouncing on geisha girls and nocturnal strippers for the smeared
votary,and it gives youth a ridicule,with the scar of inglorious hood !
06/29/2017 9:25am
Isn't it good to avoid trauma of
fiercer nebula and yonder heights but smother,to hush thy direst clouds
assailed?Groove am i of old sentinel,hath winnowed misty cheeks and mine
patent self,thou dost not slander to forlorn;Of this patent self,thinself at
thy bosom growl not forsaken,a conscientious and a capacious consumate thrice
fairer and thrice fortified than ours sedulousness and shadow throws,be not
thy brow imprisoned,in thy weakling's sinew,that thou mayest not lunge.But
then fretwaters' musketeering,let thy artlessness,velvet greases
along:whoever plunges beneath,let insipience volatile be the golden
fleece:thou canst not then mensrea,nope with trojan horse ,growl st.blues
queer street:And yet thou writ nutcase;for i being harry as histrionic harp,pent
up cartharsis,perforce disgruntle hobble, and all that is thee,thy guerdon
unassailed. Contro.Sonnet-134-And so oft now,have thou been bing'd,that he is
inextricably addicted,And writ i,as i am myself,wit to appendthy hill
dismay'd.Thyself entangled
in thy befuddl'd state,that wit to
forlorn,not shrouded,thou wilt equipoise find a space,to be thy frenetic
plunge still:But refrain,wilt not these pulses seek,nor wilt thou baste
thyself convincingly ahead:for thou art ravenous of binging pandora;Be erudite,but
pastime is not disguised from the face of the labourer,serfdom that binds
thee binds thee earnest as discreet doth unfold thy blindness,the parapet of
bibliomaniasis,thou wilt not elope,from thy graveyard epitaph,thou infidel
that bungled and frittered omnifarious grit,wherewithal at remorse.And guilt
a stranger,came later,as a frequent visitor,for thy moult,so thyself,nature
loses atdusk.Impenitent soul,inflamatory ,have i booed,thouhast both sides of
the divide:Hepays not penitence,withremorse,he pays not remorse with
impenitence,and yet earnestly craves to be master of remorse and declined a
master of freedom.'Now,majestic old grey beard,barely decipher spanking
youthful wiles,trembled and corroded his contrite feet of clay ,contused
bycontretemps
wherein deuteragonist thrash
halted. Contro.Sonnet-135-'Whoeve hath aspersion,thou hast thy vein to
espionage,on thyself and elsewhere.And prejudice to unbundle lust and
willpower politics sulky pouts in satiety;more than passionate are thou to
damper,damp squib and daffy, dances to thy direst clouds will karma,not
merely discredit.Wilt thou whose scorn is amplitude and commodious,not once
to aptly condescend to remorse ineptitude,hidden in thine scorn?Shall not
bonafide be to scold others,at the romp of senile bough,And in thy chaste
retreat ,thou a reprobate,a renegade art mingled with fair roses?Nature
stirreth at herself refutes thee entreaties,And in gullibility,grabbeth
follies,So thou ,being sloven plough into the unfairest plunge,One in thy
lunge,as lounge lizard,to make stale further still,will more sordid plough
befuddl'd,think of beguiling sport and thy gravest consequences
distendeth,harrowing dunghill.
wherein deuteragonist 's diatribal
thrash halted. Contro.Sonnet-135-'Whoever hath aspersion,thou hast thy vein
to espionage,on thyself and elsewhere.And prejudice to unbundle lust and
willpower politics sulky pouts in satiety;more than passionate are thou to
damper,damp squib and daffy, dances to thy direst clouds will karma,not
merely discredit.Wilt thou whose scorn is amplitude and commodious,not once
to aptly condescend to remorse ineptitude,hidden in thine scorn?Shall not
bonafide be to scold others,at the romp of senile bough,And in thy chaste
retreat ,thou a reprobate,a renegade art mingled with fair roses?Nature
stirreth at herself refutes thee entreaties,And in gullibility,grabbeth
follies,So thou ,being sloven plough into the unfairest plunge,One in thy
lunge,as lounge lizard,to make stale further still,will more sordid plough
befuddl'd,think of beguiling sport and thy gravest consequences
distendeth,harrowing dunghill.
Contro.Sonnet-136-If thy soul,
chaste vomits in thee,i come so far,chaste to thy blind art,that i was
enjoin'd to mend,And mendest so soonest to uncult the foul play farthest afield,thy
doses and overdoses knoweth no atrophy: thus scold my weather beaten-chaste
damndest accomplish.Remorse will ornate penitence,even as chaste will ornate
remorse of thy misty cheeks,this mortal treaty with nature,cannot be
impugned,as edict of transmogrify.Enraptured with motive,to re-engrave
selfesteem and time well spent,reckoned from the empirisus of
grandmaster,then in the weevils and throe,let verdict triggers its
gavel.Though in thine nissus,fiasco jerked the mainframe; for nothing bar the
gritty earth,from golden fleece,and so,it pleadeth thee,to dwell,make but thy
fastening hook,thy bonemarrow afford,and unflinching still fretwaters
salivate,And thou havest,that which thou dost have' And thus the old
greybeard antagonist's antagonism,a fairer bloke,scissored from the
genteelity of the gooseberies thus anew began.....
06/29/2017 11:02pm
Contro.Sonnet-137-Thou blindest
simpleton,what dost thou know about chaste,that thou scoldest and recalled
not oueer street,thou art juggled with thy unholy hours and still the stain
lies.Yet the best oratory is taken to the street, to worst salvage cannot
be,if misty eyes of thy household,still persist the rankie,diffused across
public square,where all eyes pay and discredit homage,upon history ride.
Wiles of mistiness,mendacity hast thou forged,nooks thy profile whereto,the
remorse of chaste is bargain'd?why should thy chaste,hurl'd at thy
gooseberies,thinkest and thickest than the scorn,hurled at thy
household,which siblings brothels' frequent'd? or their hazy eyes,chaste
defied?o tie them amidst fair roses,acunpunctured by chaste,in things of
serendipity,extemporise,And to quirky instinct,are perfect men
evolved.Contro.Sonnet-138-When reproof tingles with her spirit hewn,is a fair
humus of scolded earth,but homage stinks thee unfair to wear its garland,let
diffuse them,that she might be brought to the
gallows of chaste,unholiness in
thy reproof,be moult,thus,vainly or ambiguous dreams,that shalt change,at thy
household,fastened first,even though are arraigned against thee,implicitly
unfurl thy sinew and expropriate avarice to neuter moult.Hence thy
pedigree,farthest afield shall soar unsuppress'd,wherefore saith that remorse
at heart is remorse farthest plunged afield, o chaste best norm is in the
moult return,neither can the medes and persia dissuade its norms nor thy
avarice dump them beneath seashore, And by girth,unpolished,loves to be told
vintage's sinew unfold,And mine moult ,newest life lived.
Contro.Sonnet--139--O distant not yourself ,from thy sordid past,that thy
direst clouds lay guilt,upon thy homage,would not with thy misty eyes,but
with thy propensity,to remorse: use remorse with penitence and transmogrify
also thy household. Ignite their tendons'kindlest spirit;but thy
countenance,thou seest the ornated oratory,as disparaging remarks,what
kindlest thou,gratify with scorn underneath chaste,
is quite more pleasing than
overbearring intent,can wallow,in its supercillious mud?Let this spirit bind
thee to unbundle this tacky foible,mine chaste,well heals like the doctor.Her
basting prolificity,fastforwards,have been grooves,with lots of scolded
sinews;And therefore from thy own household chaste,convalescence shall be
ecumenical,that thy offsprings shalt change,as the fugitive tongues,shalt
have imbibe, Yet, thou detest fiasco,to do so,but given thy pedagogy,that
fell on rocky ground,kills foible outright,if not first within thy
household,and rid thy household of ignoble festoons and effeminate
effetes,not embossed and emulsified with empyrean epithet,a far field.
Contro.Sonnet-140-By artifice,art thou not foxy?Do now relent,thy trojan
gee-gee and gander,tacky with chaste,grooms intense penitense,lest direst
clouds maul thee,with retribution.The disdain of chaste-refrain and
rebutal,if i might vagabond expunge norm,worse as it were though not to
scorn,yet scorn;to groom perfidy refrain so; As heavy..
-laden,when the guiles-sticky
groove,no distilling showers,can her writ be,but direst,haunting and hounding
from its saturnalia boat; for if i should renege on this knight of old,should
i not be spared?And in mine moult-harbinger,speak foul of nature and
naturewit plow;how this ill-gotten predisposition,is bound to bomerang.
Uncouth calumy
06/30/2017 2:39am
calumny by maddening dogs
ranting,i myself befuddled be.that i might not this path tread,nor heaved by
distant gale,i mine eyes poignant bear,that though the chide might but the
chaste itself be scolded,for a counterpoise. Contro.Sonnet-141-Do i not by
kismet,desecrate thee,with mine fairer eyes?For they forsooth are the truest
chaste unveiled by mortal guise;But tis thy scorn that desecrates what i
preachify,who inspite of the makebelieve sanctity is pleased to ridicule;nor
are thine eyes frail to observe:nor dainty fret away wary grit:nor thy
grail,froth thee not immature;nor ample scorn and inglorious damper and
dent,it hurls still exhaust not thy palms,to rebuilt above thy voluptuous
bank,where strayed wits,art pleased thee to dwell,can impound many a wanton
heart to endorse squandermania orgy,fret by youthful sinew,with the salacious
clay feet,o elegy thou who in vacuum sings,o elegy thou sings thy lyrics in
vain,o thy elegy sings in vile,who desert voluptuou bank,to crave thy
indulgence,o that senile
06/30/2017 5:17am
bough's waning moon is ample
rotund for much ado of inherent piety and holistic grail.Were it not for thy
ineptitude,in this numb,so far have i harpily and hawkily hassled and
disgusting lethargy at spanking thy household with rebuke;so drossy a droopy
be,like an effeminate effete,not embossed and emulsified,with the ferrule to
censure budding guiles of queer street duffers and fetid dumbos,let alone a
halfway house grapeshot fired. Contro.Sonnet-142-Chaste is the reproof of
reprobate and renegade psyches and thy reproof as thou reproofeth unsuspecting
prodigy ,the arbiter of household,grounded on norms,to nymph foul indulgence.
O with mine chaste,compare state with thine household,if thou barely
scorned,thou shalt find thee bless'd.If thou this indulgence barely
usurped,from a mere lampoon of mine tongue that have ridiculed all day,as if
smeared on all canvas,oft as they wedge,hustl'd,poised to emulate relics of
annals,a mammoth drew exemplification inferences,both to duck and to moult.Be
it tempting.....
06/30/2017 6:27am
art might scorn this knight of old
even as thou lovest to indulge,But for thee,thou gravest know,farthest
plunged importunity,can be scorned,I that growls at thee,its direst clouds
ventilate thy crusade not merely with verbiage but empathy! empathy!!
empathy!!!Does he deserve a barndoor?If thou dost known to have erred,still
what thou dost know,thou stealthest hide,By thyself a worse than a scoundrel
be. Contro.Sonnet-143-Lo,as thy hauteur heap,loiters thee at the knight of
old,one plying on thy pinions,caricature and snobbish prey thee upon thy
hopelessness,sets thee down to addiction and makes all entreaties,a vain
treaty and plea,in pursuance to the guille,thyself art pleased to
duffer;whilst they binge,still brandish chaste at gooseberies,hulked in
loftiest embrace.Yells to disentangle a ducked bird from its tangled
knot,whose penultimate eagle's flight fell upon pleadings is itself
prejudiced,to in vanity fret,that which pounces impropriety astray,before
direst cloud gravest smitten,not abrasion of.....
the wit,to desecrate pleadings as
asinine,so foulest a dialect steeds,thou altereth,not which fiddles from thy
grasp,whilst at thy clayest feet,fisticuffs loathe,far benumbed;But if thou
promptitude lixiviate thy laconic visage and banish inane indulgence,And play
wit as fiddle's broth,bid thy profile sham away,bid ridicule astray:So, will
entreaties persist that thou mayest alter thy indigo dye of a mole?
Contro.Sonnet-143-Reproof flies in comfort,out of the courtroom of
despair,swirling despair's pang,which as foundry and furnace,doth chide blot
out renegades from sybarites,in transit of golden crimson,doth farther afield
pays homage,to a villatic but willing personage,self esteem is the colour of
intergrity and the price of freedom,to win thee accolades and untangle thee
from frosty plaudits,the loafer's loam unwieldy loathes,smitten of voluptous
riverbank,freteth dunghill metaphors,And thy saint,caroused with even more
taints,castigating and booing his much ado,at every twist and turns of
checkered ante
The above contro.sonnet posted now
is wrongly tagged c.s.143 instead of c.s.144. The next contro.sonnet as shown
below,should then be tagged c.s.145.instead and ideally.
cedence.And peradventure,mine
chaste be the fiend,let dumbo refrain,yet thy disposition by intendment
repugnant disdains: Yet this foible,plain as a pikestaff both to gooseberies
and thy clan,this bad blood guesstimate i may never,reprieve be; yet this
murky quirky pall of tarnish'd conscience,glaring across the scene,but dread
i dread tis stalwarts and afficionados in dismay of thine dissident
truth,pine away, O homily! o homily !! thou barren of holistic mores and
latent exemplification,how sordid thou art, miserly smitten and carcasses on
queer street. Contro.Sonnet-145- Those chaste that scold refrain did entangle,breath'd
foul play,that an hypothetical ensemble and emblem of repugnant carapace ,a
clayey feet,to fiddle,with that gall of gallivanting tympanum,for thy
loafer's loam,But when vintage circa,lethargic cipher,poignant in her
loam,did loaf 's liquefaction glide,gliding that brisky uncouth tongue that
ever lashes,was hearkened,in doling out tranquil sigh,heaved out of its
Contro.Sonnet-145-
impending doom';And enslaved by
scorn,it thumbed a novel ground,subsequently to
remorse,"disgusting" numbed by nature,she with haste alter'd,as she
threw. O that amazon,a adherent in the peripatetic school,succumbed to her
penchant with empathy of the pamphleteer,upon whose epistle,she
gourmandised,for penitence,out of its saturnalia boat and its direst clouds
and the queer street was agog doth a mammoth transmogrify....
06/30/2017 11:55pm
transmogrified,who unlike thy
stunts of foul play,from a piety-luminous household to its firmament
suffusion,the realm is engrossed.' Dread from dread,i dread,not whenever she
is thrown into gully,And her fortitude,mine fiddle condescend to vouch her
fillial piety ,but how sullen art thou,twist i not thy ambivalence.
Contro.Sonnet-146-Sordid palm,sullen feet,the achilles heels of thy direst
clouds,despots at rebellion ,impounding thy garbed sinew,against thee
astray,when they are arraigned,why dost thou nutcase ,not to detest this
snobbish tempest of arrays; suffocated by dearth of writ? why dost thou pine
away,at the numb of voluptuous bank,to unculture thy foible,wherein frenetic
quest,doth thou upon thy clayey feet,whisked into obscurity and subtlety ?How
thy gradient align with libido,heir apparent of precipiced fiddle,is that thy
numb's show ,that defileth with reproof thy homily and homage? then,bankrupt
live thou upon thy precipice and personage's decrepitude,not so gracious
,with nature's gothic..
dementia's rampaging art ,to pine
away its saturnalia boat,inclusive hulking its salacious grampus and
disgruntled gizzard:rebuilt phraseology in thy celebrated quest,so shall thou
coaxed thy bossom,to feed upon piety as amazonian feedeth and custom and
cipher once cultivated,barely abscond.Contro.Sonnet-147-Mine Chaste too,is as
a scorn,moping still,for that which fiercer,breedeth armament;quiting that
which doth banish the scorn,the groping morbid apetite to plead for an
expedient writ,that pious humanitarian lifetime,the medicine men to mine
chaste compounded my breath and hackneyed ordnances are flouted,hath miry
feet,begging the land for cover.Chaste art,now stale,as mine screaming bazzaar
peddling did accept.And every inglorious past,as umbilical cord upon which
remorse is supplanted by penitent souls, And frenetic pace,tarnished with
delusion,to enthuse forgetfulness of ill-bred antecedence.Let peddlings gavel
not and its bazzaar closed shops wherein stunts are pulled before dusk.Be not
enthralled
Contro.Sonnet-148-below posted
C.S.148-O behold,thy stupor,what
misty eyes hath chaste put asunder which bore predilection,with fabled writ,
Or if thou hath not scorned,where is thy remorse,that thou penitence
fled,that scorn boldly played ,intuitive misconstrued?If that not be foul
play,whereon thou stand to overlook thy mole,what inference,do we pluck,that
thou art no contumelious to smite remorse? For if it be not,then chaste doth
well dignified its prime,as chaste's flex,not so pragmatic as all thy sinew
retreats subserviency.How can it transmogrify?O how can chide by sinew,be
heard and held to comply,that is so seared with contumacity and parozysm of
haphazard rage?No retreat,no surrender,then i must be frank,to be concise:
the moon itself as well as the sun itself,barely reprimands their boundaries
of days and nights,till nature's counterpoise brightens spark at the milky
way. O hazy scorn! With derision thou lord keeper of the natur's conscience,
keepest remorse,at bay,let thy household be scolded,in the court of first
instance...
wherein thy foulplay,should find
thee unworthy and a vile on earth. Contro.Sonnet-149-Cast thou o scold
enthuse,to befriend thee,at thy scorn,when thou art belligerent
brisky,thyself that with thee,remorse fled?Do i not plead thee,when i
narrated thy unholy past,And of myself,all piety too must be cherished?Who
detested to be reprooved,that shalt not be fouled?On whose frenetic pace,that
thou mayest clamour,with thy disgusting opposite? if thou mopest upon thy
guile,do i not clamour in vain,transmogrification of thy eroneous personage
and retreat upon thy belligerency with thy domestic remorse? What reproof,do
thou refrain that with thy self a prestige,that is dignified,to aplomb when
all entreaties doth fall on vile ground;dusted by karaoke of hazy eyes? But
Chaste,the mother of moult,for now ,glorify i on thy mud;those that can
mutate,thou fretest and of thy self and state,a worse than blind, grimaces
thy pleateau.
C.S.150-O from the power of
chaste,hast thou this night,remorse to remorse. With full blown
repentance,art thou,at the heart being transmogrified?To Make thee wear a new
leaf as emboldened face,embelished proof of thy moult, And Befuddled moult
doth not disrepute.Whence hast thou this moult refrain,of this beguiling
sport that smear thee? that in thy remorse thy deeds,wears its own novel
apparel,to sheath its sloven navel,and all fortitude vultured upon its
concord.
07/01/2017 8:28am
Professor Abraham 's Diary :
Chapter 10 : - Parson's Black Magic . He must have taken the right lane to
racial pride,in an endless stretch of varietated roads and queer streets that
barricaded mortal choices,and ambushed by fear and indecision but charting
his own course in life,apparently leading to his own personal discovery and
eventually rested the case of his own racial ambiguity. Tunde,the first son
of Prof. Abraham Popularly known as Bola at the University Of Ibadan,living
In his father's mansion at the Grand Cayman's,passing bunch of
cottonfields,shunted gaze aside and slowed down his dark blue Cardilac to a
halt,shortly rammed his shifting gears into a serene but dusty public
park,and hurriedly ransack,a chapter in a book,he had borrowed'Parson's Black
Magic' and to basically douse the pocky pie of Passion's Invention as mere
creative thinking.Then he zoomed off again,shouting eureka for the
discovery,as he squinted against the sun's blinding glare.Holding up
the.......
steering with one hand and the
other to shield his roving eyes,invested with the inquisitorial power of
attorney,and bluntly glanced down at chapter 20,page 250 of this book he'd
brought back to help him recall his memoir,a research effort,documenting
unsung history of Yoruba's global influence on western civilisation. He had
been gone in research for his first decade,in the States,which Was begun,with
the pioneering work of his father's research repertoire,and after graduation
relocated back to New York.And a great deal,had changed,having confidence,in
his racial identity .Now,he was older,smarter and work harder.Gone are days
of subserviency,the encroachment of dreadin his intestine,about the
superiority of the caucasians. Had had he not chuckled to himself.Blacks,Not
Inferior?Since,he moved for the non-degree course,hardly a day,passed by
without being caught,with sloven catchpenny of catch-22 nightmare. In the
northwest of Alabama,a couple of kluklux clan's get on his nerve.Many
had.....
considered him a real jungle ghost
of Africa,a real bad boy,one of those niggers,of Harlem,with misery
identity,a trash coloured outlaw,that needed to be gunned down.Initially,he
Had been as tough as expected but after relocating to the states,and on a
short trip to Alabama,learnt to speak out.Had he not hated the the legacy of
poverty,suppression,marginalisation and ignorance bequethed to blacks in the
States,that he wanted more platforms,to fight long hard,to effect a
change,that blacks in the U. S. in general can not afford. But the clan's
detective had planned to destroy his dream,even before it was begun. fifteen
years ago,he had been threatened in school,by folks of white supremacists for
being a smarter kid of the lot,especially for his wizardry as a whizkid.He
was threatened with jail over a rickety and unsubstantiated evidence and
patriarch's recall back home,change every mockery of histrionics,played out
on him.And nowback smarter knew better,how to deal with highly organised but
racial crime
Barely had he closed the
book,shifted gears into faster drive,and drove to a nearby public library.
Infront Of the library park's circular drive,he parked his rental car,across
Montesserey Avenue.He had visited the library 4 years ago,prior to renovation
and frequented the nearby lodge,not far from the street Casinos and the Boulevaard.Tunde
was a bookwork like his father,and could grind bombastic decrepit elements,in
a polemics of no return and with the boisterous knack to shout them,should he
have his way,fitfully.Hence,inquisitorial drove he like wild boy to the door.
Walking the front doorg,the bell rang and book returned and exchanged now for
a pack.But the audience that showed up,gave him the heart beat of his
life.And excused him abit for a pedestrian,in the voluminous arcadian
park,staring at his ignorance and rodeo of blissful bluntness and fur of
intellectual funfair.His sarcastic grinsuggests something
missingandfunkyplayed.......
This plumpy,middle aged
librarian,thus began to fire its salvos and unfold the detective
gestation,like a leak from the gestapos,into his graceful arm. " O young
boy,frolic nigger,do you know Or have u read about the history of kluklux
clan in America?"his grandiose slammed his granular face,later gulped
too easily by his gungho's gullies. Now Mr Branson unveiled the poser.
"Were you aware,they were stalking you?" squeamish on his
heels,moved away paces,from him and stepped back into the gracious entrance
,and then he shouted. " The vultures in America have nothing to
loose,but you hapless niggers,old dickens,have everything to loose."he
humbugged,with entangled homiletics,humped on a traduce,both the hunches and
evidence of stalking,and closed the door behind him,as Tunde,the detective
loadestone melt away,deadened in a deadbeat. As if the vehicle,suggested to
him,please come inside,let's go and heypreysto,summoned courage, got back in
the driving seat,and zoomed..
off from the bedecked park with an
enormous bonquet of flowers,hardwoods,glistening underneath the sunlight and
gigantic arrays of blossoming trees. Obsessively,he Was an oddity, oddball,who
misjudged and underrated potential upset,that the could cause a rift and the
extent of public ridicule and racial contempt,that might be hurled,upon those
niggers,like he,who sought to oppose white supremacists. Why should he be
upset,in defense of colored people,the so called backward races,according to
social Darwinists? But Certainly,he was upset,with derogatory remarks,for
sometimes,being vocal at the public library,where he had become,a demigod
among scholars both white and blacks,in most cases,made his mark,in the
rendition of unsung black history. Hence,threat Was begun at this numb and
the necessity of getting over painful memories,became more daunting. He drove
home the interstate so rapidly,as if being chased under klieglight. Now,he
seemed so appealingly vulnerable and briefly.....
07/01/2017 12:19pm
got home,unboard his vehicle,stood
aghast at Mr Branson's reminder and for the inklings, it was quite,a mumbo
jumbo,until a deserted voice,spoke out of murky dead silence. Shocked to the
bonemarrowg,mooched and sombre, but raised his eyebrow. He Was known as
Halley after the popular Alex Halley in the 'Roots ' a black flick in
America,with popular slave narratives. " Hello Halley, how are
you?" he probably unknowingly stoked a burning fire, and hung with
carthasis and psychologically infested stir crazy, Tunde lampooned "do i
know from Adam? U stalking me right? Are U Kluklux an agent?"
"hmmmm" He relaxed abit "what?" staggily struck and
thawed with fallen cadence " Were you not aware,we met in the library?"
he slipped his arms around him and radiated with smile. " Halley,you
throw dread around these days. What really is the matter.Please concentrate
on scholarship.which book are u reading now?" George,a...
07/01/2017 11:39pm
Close pal of Branson,unknown to
him,cleverly covered up and patted him,on the back and risked a smile "
Good for you " "Nope,i ve found out,that if you were fighting for
this underpriviledged,they'd kind of single you out for a persecution. That
took me about four months to realise until once again recently, Branson's
reminder geared me up" . Now he was not afraid,it would hurt,if he
was,he wouldn't have spoken out,in the first place,just as he felt in his
innermost part,that incessant deaths among blacks and inequal opportunities,afforded
them,was not the right thing and a fault on the side of the Caucasians.
Somehow,he should have known better,having witnessed death related racial
profilings on the increase.Still he decided,to popularise unsung black
history . The sun burlied and warmed his hatless head,as he stood
silently,waiting for George 's reply and shooting to resume,as he dabbed
sweat off his forehead and buttonholed cheeks.As George,a stealthy
bilker,baulked directions within his........
bailliwick subsumed,felt his
seducing eyes,slowly browbeated him with intense interest,so,the best
boy,adjusted to the penetrating light that had been strung to supersede
subnatural flux as scholarship topic meandered "Halley,dont be
sentimental,forget about stalking horses.Have you read Leadership Gold by
Robert Maxwell,he said Are you focused on your strength ? spend sometime to
reflect on your strengths and also said succesful people focus on their
strengths not weakness.I ve read about a vast hordes and sometimes ragged line
of progressive but a strategic line of coherent thinkers,stretching back to
Chandler and Ansoff ,not excluding the great Porter and then Mintzberg ,later
I came across Gary Hamel a Professor at Havard, And C.K.Prahalad his close
mentor,together they wrote "Competing for the Future" find the book
in the library,i recommended them to a friend of who was later fond of them.
These guys have a way of challenging orthodoxies and statusquo
especially,making it difficult,..
especiall Hamel,making it
difficult to predict the next line of research." thus again,he was begun
with another rapture." Are you aware the origin of management
consultancy,contrary to general belief,was not linked,to draw a straight line
from Frederick Taylor's Principles Of Scientific Management in 1911,through
to evolution of such firms like Booz Hamilton Allen and the like of
Mackinsey. Chris Mackenna,a lecturer in management,at... His hammer struck
the anvil so intensely at around 2 o clock on the dot.Time to interrupt,he
did not. The ragged but boisterous noise,was thwacked by dead silence,and
soon fret intensely unsubdued.Too sententious and insensuous,for him to
notice nor summon the hammer to a screeching halt. The trenchance,not
trepidatious and tremulous bullied forth.Outside its cadence,it was still as
dark,when the anvil had rested for once,even in the midnight oil burning,to
tranquil 's wishes except for Tunde's Body language gesticulating a recess on
the anvil.
As the stunts went,after about 30
minutes,Tunde muttered something unintelligible then disembarked his feet on
the gravel and pulled from the saddle and landed infront door,so hastily,his
knees,nearly slipped off to a fall and adjusted a little wobbly.There was
rashness in his conduct,as could not help but followed his footsteps and now
seemed to notice the hardlines surreptitiously buried in his boggy
face."Come on Halley" he whispered in whizzing movemement,seconded
from Halley's whirl.His voice so tender,it nearly solaced Tunde's raging
inferno and his covert and overt sob at seeking soothing palladium. "
maybe you dont give a damn to me or about yourself.Perhaps,your rising
adrenaline and dread for these faceless stalker" His Jabing Jabbering
Jabbed gusto,rythmically stopped but the jagged jangling ambience persisted.
For some practical but political expediencies,they were slow,to unlock the
door and he couldnt but noticed his apathy and the hearthtrobs,evidenced in
his voice,........
The engross was ready. "Dont
you understand simple body language?"he munched noisily " Oh,sorry
chap! And If there are stalkers,we will gun them down. "as He moved
closer to hug him and there were hugs and smiles,to detach them from his
miserable lot. Their friendship had often thrived on intellectual discusion
and had survived explosions and blasts at the local library,prior to
renovation.And thus a new they bantered" You Talked about chris
Mackenna's Book,' Hubristic Champions'.He was a lecturer at Said Business
School,University Of Oxford,and I think the book was launched in 2006 or
thereabout..."jagged and janggled,nailed the anvil,with his hammer.
" oh,you are right . Halley,u Just too sound too good,two steps,ahead of
me "thrown eulogy in a vertigo,as Tunde finally opened the door at past
3 o clock or half past three And both headed inside. "See, forget the
bunkum,forget the trash like Taylor,Peter F. Drucker, Tom Lewis,and those
guys,you mentioned.Be it your melange of philosphers
,scientists and
technologists,inclusive of their tardy engross of
widgets,invents,patents,munnitions and missiles,we the yorubas,being the
glory of black race,were instrumental to the succesful evolution of world
civilisation ancient and mordern.That is why stalkers wanted to gun me
down."he landed the bombshell from space,as if exorcised and binged by
his African voodoo. Ocultic Power according was the first salvo,then
creative,second salvo creative,as there is a limit to which the latter could
go without former's first initial backing. "How do you mean?that is the
first am gonna hear this esoteric lie. " George was covered with the
mist of nebulous clouds,stammering and stampeded for breath."how!how!!
pls,talk"tormented by obscuritist Tunde. His overtone never overslept
and he was always hale to the overstate.That way, he had time,to prepare him
for the bombardment and bombshell,from the pit of hell. "George,am Happy
to meet you once again.Sit down calmly, for the beautiful tales"
07/02/2017 8:47am
" Halley Am all
ears"sitting on a palate, with palatial panache,in a palliative
fashion,to help him pander with his panygeric and panoply rendition of
ambiguous history that the world can offer. Pall as pallor was fallen on his
face and this palsy of pallidity did not abate by the time Tunde turned his
palatable globet of Alabama wine and both share glasses to pan out this panoply.
George,a Middle aged Caucasian like Branson had fallen respectfully
silent,perhaps for the beleaguered mind of a mawkish and minowed
matador,whose machismo as a black mafioso,an endangered species,in mainland
America,a loudmouth like the loudhailer,a lousied lout,with no frequency
modulation of both the bizarre and the expediency,with the lilliputian
tendency,to shows blacks,were not in any way,inferior to the caucasians,who
according to him ,they mothered according to anthropology.He was no lilly livered
and a lightweight,nor a limp in a limpet,to be boxed,into obscurity and
unschooled about his cradle.Invariably,out In a thumb...
his lily-white baritone voice,like
an alabaster,limbered and suppled through his throat,for firing his cannon
and so he confrontthe labyrinth,hitting cylindersraw and polished,and the
greatmayhem,thus was begun,a battle of racial flexing and Parson's blackmagic
hammered."In the 60s Sir,sorry to say,when you were much younger,say
less than than 20 something,were you aware of man forays and giant strides
into space"his laden mouth,though still lacerated with skepticism,placid
and laconic in la-di-da fashion,filled the lacuna."Yea, it was cool,i
witnessed it that historic feat,in my lifetime,dubbed'one giant step or leap
for mankind"he quipped. "Were you aware about the fact the
invention of thecompass that made globalisation possible and that of
gunpowder,was credited to the Chinese?Little didthey know about the
People,that civilised the 5,000years old country.The Europeans came with
their rocket scienceand still pundits failed to decipher the myserious powers
that made possible,this enviable relics
of golden history.Were you aware
thatthebiggest innovation in westernhistorywas steam engine? were you
aware,that it was first invented inancient Egypt,prior to rediscovery in the
medieval,when there was need to pump water out of flooded mines?Today,It had
been converted into variegated uses likecars,vehicles,machines,planes,rail
and rockets.Now the single biggest invention in mortal history,was the rocket
science, and yet,it extensively used blackmagic"he hit bombshell with a
jigsaw."what?"jawdropping"it was nothing like that,dont be
depressed pityboy,it was just mere thinking,mere creative thinking,soshut
up,black monkey.What do you know?"he blastedhis goon of a carapaceand
blindvitriolic vituperation."Oh,you still livein thedark,old man pity
you.So,can you recall the inventor of that rocket?"he laminated his
languour of lameducking,landlubbered,in this context."Who invented the
rockets?i wouldnt know,that wasntmy field anyway."his laborious
labial,swelledup again longuer and lacklustre,but laissez-faired.
His jinks still jeered in a
jiffy"You nigger,what do u know.Tell Me!"he bombed."look,it's
going to still be much easier,for us,to disarm disarray,that frivolous
infinitesimal mole,tearing us apart and get a dint of the esoteric
truth."he validated mildly "You nigger which truth?"his
vaporised vapidity parochially vantaged out of expediency. " wait a
minute old"retooling to disburse ambience and fact."which truth,you
nigger professor"still jeered his mumbojumbo,as decompose rose
sternly."that blackman's culture is superior,in any way and by all
ramification,because in any construction project,foundation is key and once
you get it right,the construction becomes a success.Be rational,for once old
man,you goof of a caucasian neanderthal,a cave dweller,robbed with animal
skin,ten centuries after the arab civilisation,and thousands of years,after
blacks were already dwelling in palatial homes?"he tinged his tinder
with burning fire,at full tilt."oh,my goodness, Jesus Of Nazareth,where
is your face"he wept like
Jesus Wept and as kennedy
wept,when the Russian Cosmonauts,beat the Americans To the game and became
first supermen to land in moon,the Yuri Gagarin Boys.History Was never stolen
from them."Is that an affront or something you nigger,where did you get
your fact?what superiority?"he queer streeted. "Ready to know? Have
you the sheerest inklings about the genius of inventive nomenclatures like
Jack Marvel Parson's,Weirham Von Braun And stealthy manipulative Sergei
Korolev respectively.Old Man you tilt and sheen of crepuscular
shennanigan,plead thee,cool down"he pestled gritty and pounded the
mortal,as he landed the volley,the sharpish sharpshooter sheepshank,grown
sheepish,shelved its momentum and adorn of mannerless sheepskin.When his
tuxedo of twaddle left adumbrated,he struggled to alight and counterpoise.He
pulled down his face and away and sitting scraggly,demented on the sofa. He
Was becoming lushed by superior tact,that built drudgery as moral fabric into
the momentum of the somewhat picky racial debates.
07/03/2017 1:24am
Fathomed that he could see himself
better,where he was headed,not much on St.blues queer street parade.His
ignorance salved,but even,if he could convince him and trust reliability of
his sources and could bear somewhat fairy tales with his ears. Now,with this
bigbang,he was coaxed,at full pelt,a consumate discussant,struck in
bewilderment,but still hesitating about the affinity with black magic,given
the fact,he was embroiled,over context,wherein he could not emend nor
emboss,with superior tact and somehow,emitting emollience and excessively
emoting.He was on the edge of the argumentative precipice and just managed to
stay. George knew Halley so well,since they'd used to rampaging tempest of
intellectual discussion ever since the library public and passing to see a
friend and a sister,at a spare time also branched,to check on him. He had
never lost an argument ever since met.little,wonder,George,though May not
admit it was glad with every time,they fell into such discussion.Both had a
temper
and almost hated to admit
it.Sometimes,scuzzily scurrying With seamless slanderous and scurrilous
scalpel,piercing tendons,scalloped like a
scallywag,scandalously,scalping,modest indigo of argumentative sanity,that
sometimes scared passers by.Such scatological recurrence and smutty verbal
sarcasm often tizzily titivate this tiptop of ireful tirade,intoxicated like
a tipple,the tittle tattle percipiently,tinkers this contest of the
mind.There was a little silence and then he spoke out,putting down the glass
cup,to clear his throat,adjusting his position on the sofa"And so,what's
the matter with them?"inquisitive,he tenterhooked,but now vamoosed
temporised tepidity. "Anyways,these smartest guys,paragons are the mega-
celebrities behind the success of western rocket industry."he unleashed
the bombshell and with the tag,"blackmagic was their phenomenal but
esoteric powers."he pinched,somewhat pilloried,at comfortable
distance,that he oggled,in the mutative conviction of the dreary contest...
"Blackmagic!"his
indigo,vertigoed once again."blackmagic or creative thinking?"he
closed his eyes"jesus christ!"he moderated in a chargrin though his
tantrums did not fell so fast to hamper his bubbling zealotry,not to seize
hold of the genius of the blue sky,and if possible,lampoon his conspicuous
rodeo of rodomotade.A faint sheen of perspiration,flashed on his face,wedged
over muffled thumps,mottled with the patches of mudslinging mucillage,from an
inferior nigger,as the challenge lingered in the air,unruffled towards
Tunde's Whooping sound ofvictory andGeorge still numbed. Thebroad band of the
blue sky,outside hisapartment decked withtintedwindow,had not only turned
rose but later to red gold and by the time,it was deep indigo, George gazed
at his watch,still have 4 hours left for the discussion,before headed to
Beverly Hills for a late night flight,barely threw down his stampeding
gauntlet.'i still get more time left,to spare'.taking up the cup,to sip abit
more."Without blackmagic,they would n't have...
been sung,let alone a smash
hit.And you countrified coccoon of an ostentatiously, intellectually ossified
goat,whacked by nearsited collision and derailment of maddening osmosis,still
ridiculed our culture as inferior and ,still call me a nigger. O,What a weird
!"he jibed again as he moved closer to him,stretching his arm and
yawning,whilst he was forced to relax his breath,wittingly ,at the
unscrupulous ireful goddess of war,laced by hot temper and running lips.His
Smoldering look seemed to accuse him with musdlinging catapult,as if a lie
was told,with pain and pang,shadowing his hazy eyes,at the time swallowing
hard,with a mouth that runs tirelessly but never blank and bland."Now,do
you have proof,blackmagic was involved?You ranting of an ant."still
jeering "want to define that?"he niggled for nittlegritty,snuggling
deep into his sit,engrossed in the loud cadence,as he noticed a soddened reflection
of the moonlight on the floor,2hours to go.George sterned at the......
amusing glimpse into their
somewhat altercatory friendship and Tunde Smiled but his defences barely
slipped a notch and a minute after seized the stage dropping his glass cup.
"Now,listen the famed hungarian physicist Theodore Von Karman,invited
Young Marvel Parson,into the research planet of Aeronautics
Academics.Basically,like great inventors,who simply used holly curiousity,he
had no formal college education,but Von Karma believed in him,recognised
earlier,his talent and intelligence. He had no difficulty,imbibing and
blended easily,with researchers,academia,being naturally charming and was
later included in a research group,that dealt with extremely blackfuels
project, And so,having made a distinction in research Parson's group was
called the suicide squad after a series of failed rocket fuel research
attempt,that was caused at Calteth,due To Scandalous safe concerns. This was
caused to be moved to a few kilometres of land left closer to San Gabriel
Mountains,little above, devil's gate dam. so,.........
07/04/2017 4:04am
ELEGY TO SADOMASOCHIST
Whacked by supercilious brat and
invectives infested uncouth tongue,the repressive durress within that
ambience circumnavigated,ignited his tacit and so,he by temper swung,stood at
a convenient hiatus,to the rampaging art.
Elegy.that in my heart,thy guilles
all but interred ,wherein nature's heels,taught thee how to unfold chaste's
flex at thy cloven hoofs.The more i say,the less thou art observed.Thy scorn
art scold abhored,thou shouldest not abhor mine utterances,but in
selfesteem,thy adore should be,if thy self esteem is blotted,more guilles at
thy household,comes home to roost.
Contro.Sonnet--151-Chaste is too
benign to abscond,where conscience pleads;yet who knows not how to chide,is
born of scorn.Chaste Is too senile to know what foibles,to patch,yet,who
knows not moult is crust of adamantine,then a greater whore,importunes her
juicy sport,lest of mine refutation,thy aggrandised self elated be,for thou
scornful of entreaty ,i do not elope.Mine intergrity,to part thee,of
vile,mine fiend doth shoot as thy ignoble den,that thy household might trump
and triumph in lust,as moult stays farthest behind pleadings.But rising
impetuously as thy tolerance facade of licentiousness doth contendest with no
patent guilt,contented with dreary eyes and thou art pleaded and pleased to
dwell by the wayside.No fathomed piety,without conscience,hold nefarious
fingers in high esteem.That 'chaste'for whose dear crust censure,i still sell
thee.
Contro.Sonnet-152-In thine
chide,that chaste is chaste,that saves multitude of souls.But thou art to be
scolded a thousand times surfice.To thee that chide,might transact piety and
break fallow ground.,for thou art not sworn,to thy piety vow'd.And
breach,evidenc'd in thy fortitude,art strayed thy household,And all mine
chaste and scoldings,sank its titanic and dreadnought,beneath seashore,flat
fell,for the graveyard itself barely smears an earth for the dead.And every
resolve is pothered by guilles of sentiment,and to elope thyself at thy writ
and grit,consumate i nebula,or made thee slaves,at thy achilles heels;for
have i mourn,a thousand fall unfair,as more perfidies,at thy faith,to cajole
and censure a mammoth,with the pariah outcast and the wickedness of their
gluttonous behind.
Contro.Sonnet-153-Scorn laid by
brute barely fell asleep,a maid of honour,it glides thy marrow,And thy
context,scornest kindled did sway with recompense,in an ephemeral, hedonism
of lampooned chaste;wherein filial piety disdain'd uncouth lips,lively
feeds,unfettered by rabidity doth abrasion kinky froth,which yet all foibles
pleased to fathom,but at the guise of misty eyes,direst crowd frigid.
07/06/2017 7:51am
A DIRGE OF THE UNKNOWN.Wittiness
goons,that gropes boisterious,A dirge,too cankerous to sing,distant
waves,when merriment wallows,knits the isle of man,frivolous
feets,trivialising whose mnemonics tardier gruels, enigma belching
subtlety,futurologists and futurity wails,fallen heels,fallen eyes in fallen
lands ,interred beneath soaring hills. Wail,that the horror eyes of the owl
of the owl canst not decipher,the unknown hills,sapien's greatest dirge,is
ambiguous,an eternity far away,a dirge too many and he by byzanthine,can
simply not be known. A DIRGE OF THE UNSCRUPULOUS.Wanton sands that gawkily
sloths,unscrupulous clouds when sullen goofs,frigid all night long;turgid
seashells,whose frills are vile ,mangled dreams that fled into cosmos,whose
stook,minxs and manxs,taints carvenous gorges and drudgery basins,wail o
unscrupulous vales,for the golden fleece of the graveyard,world richest
goldfields.
GROTESQUE WINDS.Grotesque!
grotesque!!grotesque'says she in a quandary of ambivalence'where is your
tethering hooks' Grotesque wind mopes aloud a dirge too benighted to be
sung,distant waves,hitting hard with inclemency,like the tempestuous lunge of
the lion's when the predated snaps,stolen forest,when the inferno is burning
, flooded with no gazebo,kindled with kickshaw,windy sighs,obstrusion of the
obstreperous heaves,not a sigh to respite tis broken heels becomes a fertile,
And rudderless banks,fluxes with milk and honey,gold and silver.grotesque
winds distant gales,barely sewers tethering ropes of the knotty clouds.
Wail,grotesque,gregarious chants
occlude a mammoth,Officious they obscene the city square,wail knight marshals
of the jungle,kinky feets drown aboard,repressed to jump the bandwagon
oggled,pearls are burried beneath seashore like golden fleace beneath rays of
sunshine,distant waves traveling at its scorching heights uncharted,yet a
foresight,were you to plunge headlong ahead of the storms,could freeyou,the gilt-edged
gnomesofesoteric cult and ample fortitude to strikethe anvil with your
frollicsome and loathsome hammer.Being reticent midstream and tranquil
headlong,distant gallows and distantwaves succumb.Then turningthe spigot
andtheramrodtowardsserenity that kowtows as servility,beneath obvelation
andobviates,kinetic hillsidekudos,glides its hazy but servileeyes asobligato
of the obsecrable panting,Condescend knighterrants of the
kineticmountaintop's conquest,obtest the labyrinth of the grotesque winds,they
come in gales,billows and they go in stales,the farthest plunge barely sings
herald of farthesthills
The 1st Part And The Third Part
Were Published Above Now The Second Part Is Therefore Now Published Below.
Groteque Winds\2nd Part.Grotesque
barricaded mortal conscience,twisted,stertorous,strictured and knuckled with
the kunkfus of kinky sentry,plowing gauchy cloud,And desecrate percipiency
insomuch to implore offertory,neither that omen speaks not omega,nor the
medes detest the persia.And given the gregarious chants'obssesion
perseverance,obloquy desecrates. He grows not obsolete,but still nature
grouchs to grow him obsolete,in suspense behind obfuscated chins,And backward
path,they trod,he smouldered in the obsessive,obsignated and then jettisoned
his trump of mt.olympus inquisitorial roil. Deadbeaten Curators of
arts,dispirited at the dickesian plow of the gregarious chants,evanesced the
mainstrean rottened by hesperian knights,scamps of ochlocracies,olio of
scrappy hills,infitrated public squares.By lust and derision,they ambush the
spangled stars and stare at a furlong trough of mangled dreams, kinetic romp
of blissful morns,occludes finest arts of solitary confinement,homespun as
jewels of junketing hills,
highlanders decked with the
unctuous gales of holy curiousity,rising obstinately from the vale of
adjourning hills,navigate they,with the circumference and transference of
despond slough,like an erotic sailor,headed uphills.end of part two of
grotesque winds.
07/06/2017 1:51pm
quake,jaded jack.a.napes,jaded jackdaw,jackpot
wrangle,jackpot hit,acatalectic storms,acatalectic gale! Do i plead marrooned
with nature's entreaty,importuned more than the swiftest horse,And I above
jaundiced,to tame my kismet,dews on her,with the distilling showers of
celestial moisture and charming arms of the rising sun,the green lawn and its
chemistry of lushes,in their golden junctures of distressing
dunghills,jangles i but you to quench;In those hilt,benign of fairy
jaunties,fairy morn living behind distant hills;In those
jazzy,jaywalk,hibernates to shoot the golden salve of a starry morn;i
fortified by mandate beneath these sanddunes plough and interres,vacuous
arts,upon your fortitude,treacly down a pearly groove inevery sullen prowl.
Jaunty Sinewy.Jejuned crimson belched jaunty sinew,cannot but bliss morose
palms in disarray ,jejune crimson,an impuissant repertoire,whereon jaunty
sinew,is sloth infested vile;Alas,it leadens mahomet
Mahomet's Milestone
apetite,neither its Jack Robinson not its tumulus being jerked by jiggery
pottery,nor by jingo,gravy train be,jejuned crimson is reef knot,jaunty bone
is landmine,do i not detest thee by them alike;and abhor thee by them
alike,tis shephered vale hide me above this cut and crux of jaunty sinew's
jib,whereo jezebelic hewn to jocund fathom of morose palms.Ride,Ride Thou
Distant Hills.Ride,ride thou distant hills,thou art so far away . As man's
plunge,plunges deep beneath;thy prestigious presence,they seek is withdraw
from sight,becos thou art invisible,at the time of the plow, although their
clump,be contumelious gungho! gunges gungho! gunges unto the gimcrack
ballyhoos;a vast fleece of gravy train,if tacky ,are mere fable:then
gungho,the foil,ride,ride thou distant hills.Thou does not dislodge thy severest
wind as furnace and hurdles foment and frowards be as the acme prize of
glory;You as gladiators groan and your sting is not benumbed of guerdom,As a
gratitude to sail as he that willeth
07/10/2017 1:48am
O MY ROOT O MY GONG.
07/10/2017 3:03am
Once upon my couch evinced i my
heart throbs,as annals evoked memoirs of distant hills,over time's quaint
giddy goat,subsumed broken dreams,in stead of palmy days ,beneath bulrushes
of interred sands of time. Brutely moped i nagging,heypresto,at the mockery
of gooseberries.And my gorges goodily rising,at my tarnished boo to a
goose,burrowed from a boo to a goose.tis a meagre remniscence,i
sighed,grating at my gravestone of bibliomaniasis,a mere ecstasy spurred me
on. Bravo,respendently,i Could recall,it was a muse of camaraderie, And
behold,they the bibliocrat sinewed with gritty grenade,flung its cannonade
upon the groove.My being brisky,entombed in marrow ado,had i not groomed to
unwind and sail farthest sea? Antecedence speaks of me,supplanted of my
root,my ignition key,for a wobbling sentry,persuade me to abscond,for the
infection ogre and infelicitous infantry,whom their masquerade,bent upon
lobes of spurious lores,evermore luddites blanketed Yoruboid cosmos.And the
sunken gall,with rampaging....
07/10/2017 11:14am
,lushed with rampaging
sport,pounding and billowing,trounced me with inferno and a transfixed
palpitation that tore apart and barely subvert the subterfuge of the
stupendous curio arts,attheunsung harmonious crescendo and scabed gong of my
genteel root,my hazy feet pined away.Groans,my weary Souls displeased;o my
humble bay,o my genteelgong,banished by inglorious sobriquets.So,they
duffered by torpedoof this innuendo,Oh my greymaster earnestly thy
pedagogue,my sullen bank seeks,to recoup all the colours of rainbow,sunk in
the titanic ofprimrose bank and despond slough,Being that i was a
minnow,riding obstinately,with pinionson pilloried horseback,bereft of
mutation in a mutation plow, Andso grandiose,they came,gone grey,shrinking
and shrinking pointless roses,at my motherland,aptly to groove,edified by
insomniac,on a nocturna bed,tis the greymaster epistemologically unleashes
its avalanche.Darkness flees,with rising stars,far flung from tutelage,still
barely do i hesitate to wonder its esoteric cult of
a masked glory,a sunk apotheosis.
Lachrymose yoyoes lachrymose,lachrymal terpsichorean lachrymal,decked with
the inglorious tag,with which it was roped and gangraped,still treachery yet
unbroken ,crisscroses lakes,lagoon,seas,rivers and across the atlantic,sailing
like a journeyman,casting irredeemable nebula and lo,the writ whispered in my
ears"tell the story" shall i not tell my story,o my root,o my gong
? Sat he on his heel,subservient on sandy bay perch greedily,my tendon broke
he to utter,that he supplants within me,burning my marrow to hear"sure i
shall retreat from this vicious vitriols of specious insinuation of the
infelicitous calvary,impaled amidst throng of gathering clouds.The
thunderstorm,gloriously raves and sails like a meteor,garlanded by contending
sky,a hazard that defies soft landing of a gentle breeze,with the gentle
leaves,to breathe and take a recess,to fly above gauchy clouds,is to gather
stormy twists,in thy hands.why shouldest thy heart sobs quiant quirky?why
shouldest thy cheeks
pale in thy misty eyes,to dread at
its dusk?strong as thy ears and eyes,shalt thy resolve be.
07/11/2017 9:34am
Scoffers do not scoff,when the
sunshine glorous diadems coronate a king on a throne.Blinkest is he that
strives and strides in nebula.Time thy fortitude to blaze and scale grandiose
heights,Starry morn precipices at thy indigent millstones and
freestones,quake dread in a shepherd vale,whereon nightwatchmanship's burning
the midnight oil as unflinching shepherd,incense a new dawn;it does not
persist without guerilla,malediction of its hostile squadron,neither unsheath
your drawn sword and spears nor its sunbeam glitters afray.The night
breezes,creep over its dinghy horizon,And heavenly moisture,in virtuous
drill,showers its tentacles,hazy mountain quaking volcano,yell over poignant
moist of unruly vale and at its zenith,sordid it plow?To tame the hamlet of
the plangent cloud,to run the precinct of the wild forest courses,hunt for
sloven game,in the wild,beyond st.blues,heavest the gaming table,with a new gong
and songs sung over the burning gleam and morose palms.
Mammoth in a lush, lushed and they
could sing and wrapped their head in hymnody.And stress,durress and
distress,impulses mammoth cheeks,a hilly beans,prowling nature's quaint
sordid plough,barndoor hit,beneath my fallen plunge unsung,swims fortitude
that skates sullen feet,crusped beneath sunken boats,flung in wild courses
and stormy steep,that friction,crystal sands,froth daisy-kick sunken,lunged
with the immanent gale,corroding the tides,sequel to a bent and burnt limb.
Distilled With the humus of celestial humidity,they cut their teeth with the
palmiest days' engraved silverlike sheen,fed impecably on scorching
earth,frittered diamonds,squandered timologists and bantered dawn,recoup a
groove and its fleece,but in a transient perk of owlish eyes and gracious
earth unbundled.
07/12/2017 4:27am
O Fate o fate,all men call thee a
fatalist.if thou art so,what dost thou do with it that is impugned,for a
mutation plow?Be fatalist o fate,for then thou wilt chide effortlessly,to
bear the spears and venom of recalcitrant men into shape and norms,that thou
lookest pale,in sight of mortals,thy eyesight sees beyond the dark of
nature's ill diving verdict,things that to utter them to be heard,things that
to hear them to be heard,things that to do them to be ado,makest an unstained
vision and impecable journey,wither not in tattered robes,overwhelmed with
overwhelming brows,meagre were the taints,plaited upon sharp misery,had torn
apart broken bones,And in this despondency sate,a damocle's sword hung, A
thurible thy arts thwacked,and other crucibles,Of infecund ferns of tightknit
frangible ricochets;and about he,the swashbuckler's shelves for shelfing this
irreverend patches and moles,A mendicant rendition of green earthenware
pots,flung in remorse and mustards in a mutation plow,Nothing in this numb,to
myself i
refute not,And If a man did need a
earthenward potion,much worse than this sate,let him die alone whose stale,is
abscond of the broken dreams,with the direst clouds,into thin air.Here the
wretched of the wretcheds,at dunghill scavenging daisy kick unmourned, And
this same achilles heels,man must tend if not mend as a hawk,in a lifetime
buoy,Art so bare,so sterile and wretched,that thou fearest to famine thy fatalist
cheeks,with sinecure and starveth impending blossom of golden fleece,whereon
contempt art climbeth thy tallest trees of pride,to hang thee,beneath stale?
O thy root thy gong maketh thee a numb when thou affords it,no stress on thy
distress,a lacuna for lifelong stale.O how sweet roses,a visioneer brings to
its gaming table,with those flowers,bridal bed ,i strew o fate,if thou not
being deluded,thy canopy is hell and brimstones upon decrepit girth,thy
root,wanting zealotry,distilled with appetite for yonder hills,assuage thy
spine,for a yonder junketing,armed thy brow with bibliocracy then lunge..
refute,And If a man did need a
earthenward potion,much worse than this sate,let him die alone whose stale,is
abscond of the broken dreams,with the direst clouds,into thin air.Here the
wretched of the wretcheds,at dunghill scavenging daisy kick unmourned, And
this same achilles heels,man must tend if not mend as a hawk,in a lifetime
buoy,Art so bare,so sterile and wretched,that thou fearest to famine thy
fatalist cheeks,with sinecure and starveth impending blossom of golden
fleece,whereon contempt art climbeth thy tallest trees of pride,to hang
thee,beneath stale? O thy root thy gong maketh thee a numb when thou affords
it,no stress on thy distress,a lacuna for lifelong stale.O how sweet roses,a
visioneer brings to its gaming table,with those flowers,bridal bed ,i strew o
fate,if thou not being deluded,thy canopy is hell and brimstones upon
decrepit girth,thy root,wanting zealotry,distilled with appetite for yonder
hills,assuage thy spine,for a yonder junketing,armed thy brow with
bibliocracy then lunge......
MAYA ANGELOU'S MISSING RIBS.
My heart pants for her days,to be
reinvigorated ,even beyond eyes posthumously,And spasmodic vamoose the
fugacious winds,like the eagle'n'flight,And heypresto,with the janglings of
the nocturnal lurk,she was gone to the heavens shores unmoored,Oh,the
homeostasis of the caged birds,drowned beneath,A nestling bird,rose forth and
dawn,from the rickety winkle of a tunnel vision,whimsical of a soiled
root,with the broken gourd and wrinkled gong,tardily soft budding,softwinging
and softpounding,hurling gravelly brimstones,at the heart of white
supremacists'encroached Americana,gratuitous they impugn their freedom,and
out in a thump,upon a hackneyed soil,taint their robes with punitive
invectives, Oh,sail she a conscience farthest sea and the caged bird broke
its tangled knot,and flies away empty into vacuous space, singing
imponderables, At a furlong taming the wind's flight impetuously,and gales
and bales fly forth with the plunge,from the frenetic vales to the
hilltops,the soul of the caged birds rises,a lacuna
lampoons absenteeism of a
tribune,and a vaudeville of the distant hills and esoteric galaxy left
uncharted,dinning with the spineless,who were once her bucaneers,flying her
cosmos into the infinitude ofno return.Were she not fractious,with fragile
self exhumed,wouldwe have been immersed withbiographies and bickering
poetryof the soul?Splittedas if like a foundling with no gazebo,unmasked
durress splintered across a globetrotting imbrication,swooned by spleenetic
tide of motherhood,racialism and her voice of the nightingale.Was Guy a
betrothed-like son,a missing rib or a penchant bardesquely bent as the
trenchant pen,that she absconded literally and metaphorically,from the
vicarious engross of minstrelsy,at every of golden fleece chase? Was he still
a missing rib postmartem,that she would cringe,her moth eaten plangent
bone,at her graveyard? Was he a surrogate to reenact her winning streak?Was
Time a thunderous varlet like an unmissable vagabond that should swindle
irreplaceable precious stones adinfinitum?
O how sweet chilling and
painstaking,does an enchantment of excruciating motherhood thrills? So,she
Was sung,at the Porgy and Bess scuttled European tours, And so,she dipped her
broken pen,imperial hands and swollen feet in gall,for the unsung
Americanah,and Heypresto,belching Her cartharsis,hephtacentric
autobiographies,were slung like at the rudderless banks of her sullen
roots.And the plummet skyrocketed,with the enchanted witchery of 'I Know Why
The Caged Bird Sings'.Does the caged bird,not sung to defray the windbound
windsheet of the ochlocractic bucaneers?
07/14/2017 3:55am
APOCALYPSE.
Appanages,hung On eggregious mile
avariciously they woo the apocalypse,and tends the appendixes of kismet,to
append futurology of the homosapiens.And dancing the arty
crafty,timologists,befuddled in its beguilling sport,and the morning appeases
to the night for the ap.o.gee of the great apocalypse.They play with the dart
forth fire of the pejorative arrows,as they banter and badger ashcans of
naturewit's persiflage,effusive and ebullient,eggressed and effused,on the
eggregious mile,With eggs thrown on their faces,the ascetic minded and the
hedonists alike,the clan's eke,as festoons of parlous roses,festooned by
fetor of eunuch's effete pouch,Elapses time's docker of vaudeville doddle.And
they dole a pittance and a penance for a livelihood it.sy-bit.sy,waow,what a
scrooging lifetime! Dogsbody-birds,mousetrap cheeses and pipsqueaks,squelched
in their marshy,motheaten squadron,dissuaded their infantrymen,rottened
sports in the damp squib,dogstired and still doggoed,rummaging like a fodder
in the doghouse,
Squeaking,squawking,squealing,squinting,squiggling
and bustling like a squire and the swiftest canst pacify timology for a pie
of gravy train.Dickesian clamour of the egregious mileage,sings the dirge of
the Dionysian dingy,to refute the persnickety of nature's boundless ever
cooing persiflage,diddles the sojourn of a sojourner,Birds Of
passage,squarebashing in the earthly sojourn,as vile felonies,cryptic and a
crucifix of prejudice as volition cross,bent on the edge of the
precipice,crumbles neath earthcrust in fest of timological squandermania,as
golden morn,the true price of freedom,goes up in smoke,and esplanade of
espousal,wails beneath its labyrinth,to unravel even the frittered escapade
of the jungle.She bares the fangs of hell and the promenade of the seventh
heaven,whereonmalediction and benediction,being malevolent and
benevolent,oozes from its sedentary butmutational couch. She flies,in
thevacuity of the cosmos,her pingpong,plays with the mouses,the bats of the
rolling moss,and the languiddickens
and the obstreperous motes,languid
dickens of the raving monty,a leveller for the marshy moles,in the truculent
morsey's tiring trudge of the egregious mile. Matrons of honour flock to her
orchard,as insulator of the supples of its mines and crucifixes.whose
moult,decked with unflinching plait,matadors of this mileage and time's
machismo of masochists,maroons of the serenades,Ambush bedwetting pageantry
of fatalism,to jail the bedlam and bedbugs of time,she rejoices in the
beautitudes,the hobos,beatniks,sorcerers,villainous,mavericks and the
libidinous,dancing gore on goreish horses of the starry morns and starry
nights alike,to celebrate the backwaters,backwoods,the backbenchers of the
idle courts of sapiens'trojan horses,with their ambidextrous regalia,wrought
marvel of the open sessame,Her invincible and invisible cult personalty of
esoteric hewn bustles as noble and ignoble pawn that frets in labourious
sun,a golden fleece of the rising sun and fallen moon,and Thenthe day
junketing into the deep as night
07/14/2017 8:41am
woven into darkness,fugacity flies
away,ambiguous into empty space as freebooter of meteoric vale of checkered
antecendence.All You a cat's paw,let there be no cavort,cease,to cavort and
gallivant with cavil,a caustic cause celebre,to scorn her cavalcades of
cavalrymen,masquerading up the spout,with the cavalier spout of catch 22
spoors,robe no more thyself,with obscuratism,casuistry and catatonia
schizophreniac carousel mental catalepsy,Neither its howler and cussed heap
of gallivanting mirth,nor its fickle of raizor-edged perfidy,cuspy and
cushy,to do your damdest as your cart horse relishes,Carol no more in
oblivion, o birds of passage as she flies away into empty space,with her
carnivorous fibre and trouncing with her cannibalistic canopy.She plays the
blindman's bluff,to blink and be butchered by itsblast furnace and
guillotinous foundry,bleeding hearts crumble,into gaol trumped by the
blandishment of the blankverses,and bland poetry of the languour but long and
everlasting mile,oh,everlasting mile
,the Basketballcourt of the
timologists,whose complex umpire,knows not scorn,Hung on armchair armada,an
awesome craft and spawn ofattelieries,enamoured by neurosclerosis of arson,to
slay the apothegm of its appliqued in trodding the longest but languour
mile,a slothfulvile detest this trudge,her anthromorphic alopecia nebulous
withapathy,unmasks anorexia spawning of fleeting times,plodding her womb in
clamour of anticlockwise and anticlimax of cacophony,All You vilest cat's
paw,why the anomie and season of anomies that frisk that you frisk might
bleed?Caustic temperament caterwauling,burning on a sunk but cattied
caisson,ambrosia itself burnt to a frazzle,on its cauldron,and so much
caverns had gone beneath the bridge,to cling to stampede and
catfight,chatters and old chatterboxes like a cheapstakes,flock at the
chasm,the cicatrix of morbid chutzpah.Cockfighters hurl into dunghill,coddles
a cockpitof cock and bull cognoscentis of the cold ak with one voice even with a broken gourd,As
She flies,trading her consignment of eternities away in vacuous
space,convolution coos proclivity and then ages unrestrained fret
infinitude,to kick its und leather game,at the ignition of time,Plead
thee,come to me and depart from the countryside of perfidy,that we may
confab,Courtesans of coupde'graces and melees of coxscombs,cramp on the
vintage creel of the old lady,to damn her dalliances,with ambivalent
spaces,Where is the deed of covenantthat they might pay whatthey owe?A
decrepit mission of thefritterred generation of distant memory,stupefied by
embellishment of fugacioustimes.how furacious times fly,at the furtive cloy
of her couch.In this couch,sobs not karma,when it cometh,on this
couch,deleterious trenchancy denounces denunciation..
to depose and desecrates folklores
of the deep,oh old lady of mothernature,this vile,it clings
piouslyanddesuetude lingers pouting andporting like a pooh-pooh alone,up the
pole,in the desert and savages of the delirium tremens,stilk dingled with the
innuendos of the rapport,Hence delirium dances its double dutch dealing and
draconian double crossers'grin where doss by its dosser,fly
rampaging,jumbling the cosmos,like a flash of lightnings,in the asshole of
dystopia,dyspepsia and dyslexiac earnest brawl twinges,wherein,dynamites are
fallen,where she lingers ,delirium becomes its in laws,to curry perfidious
favour and esperantoes of theguille,murder sleep of time. Bewareof she,the
old lady of mothernature,shall with karma repay,her furry barely obliviously
,piously shall repay,with the swords of eschatology and retributive
justice,she holds the plumbline of justice as the final arbiter,elope
Brownstudy Of the escapologists and the sarcastic grin,let them compete,from
which side of the trenches,trenchwarfare
07/14/2017 12:58pm
inferno cajol'd to bliss?"Her eyes
what a war of gazes,petittioned through them.
08/21/2017 11:50pm
Her inferno of raging eyes wooed
still her purposive verdure,lushed from a prisoner's gaol of alabaster band
of libido.Quoth she her quo vide of intendment crenelated:"Here shall i
my quotidian libido of fairest and foulest plunge stoop and plucked from my
shore at my bay to berth forever".So,black a crestfallen fiendish cretin
engrails so white a brownish studious crescendo,contiguous brows,wriggling
and browbeating and he,creeding up the creek,at its creek and crescent at his
crepuscular creep,by steely soft sighs,that cannever gravel.Her slight with a
sledge hammer,still sleekily sniding and still,with one sweet stare that
scorns and beaten her quondam but intermittent pussyfoot,into shape."
plead thee,give me space for my moist hand scholarship,fret
palladium."saith he,lifting up his brisky chin."Why dost thou feel
impatient?" "Get me a recess from thy stook of contumacious
flippancy,not to ensnare this serene home" Still she cries and never she
a quitter ,in her wayward glance,quivering and quizotic.....
as if on the quizvive,quizzing the
quizmaster,for her parochial and sebacious but randy quorum.little wonder,she
says"it takes two to tango." "for shame,thou art shameless,for
illicit fun,thou art shameless pungent plow. Thy all time delight,here
crease,libido fringes libido.when thou art born and grail thy calf,welcome
thou no marvel and shall they not be like thee,thy seeds of blackstudy,how
like a jade,if thou not smothered with sear'd conscience,thou shalt stand;how
like a jade as grown ups,will they stand? for the seeds and the sower are
nothing but the same on the farmfield,mooring weeds and crops,base and debase
romping debase sometimes into base?Ebonoids are blackstudy synopsis,save a
thimbleful,who dwell on the otherside bibliocractic atlantic,how much more
worse for thee,thou o black damsel,a vale of biblioklept!Enfranchising thy
yobbo with thy impatient tongue,to stain thy unborn seeds,still in thy
loins,even with blackstudious D.N.A.I Know not known below.know,even tis
borrow to borrow esteem..
shall i borrow.May thou with
apotheosis,not maligned by bibliomaniasis?All stardom,know's profiling of
know,bundled by grace and time,planketh its birth,who wears the
garment,another sows unfinish'd?You hurt my spring,my numb,my flabergast,with
scorn.Drop this insolent tumour,this rigorous chatterbox and ill bred
clamour,now a mishit for mine hedonism,for where pleasure enjoys trips,they
maketh no slack for purport and vaudevile".Pulling her wooden'd but
weary hands away"why canst thou think?" quoth he "shall i not
race against time to sing the heavenly but melodious tune,over this eldorado
of intoxicating drat and harsh sounding biblioklept? Or had i no passion to
glance and to hear ? Or were i a numb,a dumb or deaf,thy outward beauty,would
still stinks,to detest even every bit of thy erogenous curvature.Yet should i
be bereft of brownstudy,to trade prosmicuity for thy libido and welcome
misery,in my home astray.A Time for meditation,is not to be sneered and
slighted by a time to funfair,to court misery."
Saith She"say that thy sense
and emotivity for me art sewered." "Art thou not matured and older
than puppy love flirts?"She would have broken to tears,at his somewhat
sarcastic but ridiculous stares,that went blank,that she flatly heeded to
moult.Her unblushed and viperous bullets ungunned.Unfair wit,crash from her
obnoxious writ,amazed to bait off,his creel of crassly intendment,which
hiring lust did wittingly reprieve and remorse,for on the floor,she lies her
embattled low as she were a twain,slain her fingers' baste pulses below a
thousand ways to scorn her teeth learn'd,to mend,her perverse crucifix in unkindled
flirt; He browbeat her with intendment like a sorcerer,to rig her
censure,will never wayward rise,still non-availing;so,he will now treats her
still,a restless ocean,illumined with his awe:whose colours of
beams,tessellated upon his sternless face affix'd,as if from thence,nagg'd no
more,with the lusty but lutarious sparkle of her borrowed plummes,Her moult
not shone like moonlight in the light
and in the night,"am i a
guilt,stained by debris?"quoth she"the tickling of
tintinabulation,tickles biblio-glots and devise they,a pathfinder,to which
they succumb and pestle with their mortal.Serenity Is the bandwith.what
ecstasy moulds it?if not tranquility,what thirst for punditry,oh goddess of
tranquility,enrobe me,my exigous frame,with thy savour,that i mayest,glorify
my yoruba kiths and afrocentric heritage...?,
08/22/2017 4:15am
And so,what prime motivation
consumed thee for midnight oil burning to alight". "O thou didst
nag me again.to hobnob with tranquility that murder'd sleep,takes a long
writ,strictured with pass,an unflinching trod that gravitate towards
dreamland.To alight at the impending,you've got to accelerate
scholarship." pure lips sheathed hid upon her upper lip and bargain of
wits,censured immodest cheeks,to barrow brownstudy,with the steepest
steel.With rattled chin as sheathed swords and retired spears,hid their
cavernous noises,was greeted with the reticent encroach of the impending
night,marching down from her face,streaming serenity from a broken
shell,rumbled at her numb of famished scarification and mutinous plow.In the
cool encroaching sunset,the drizzling scald,resonated across the living
room,darkening the crenelated intendments,for a moorish spite,fallen brow
tardily rekindled engross.Sometimes,the rankled palms pulsating on the pulses
of Dotun's memoirs,with witly garrison muffling her turbocharged highly
resillient stallion.She lays in
her archipelago of stolid and sombre,traduced with guilless
bulletholes,muleteer'd,in the pacification of her conscience asterisks,with
one side of her askanced craft,plunges deep with all her munniments into the
atlantic of sedate mystify,to mimic Dotun's brownstudious
prestidigitation.Barely did her scrumptious and rapturous curvature,miss the
long drop of pensive sentry,not presumptious of erstwhile but trademark
nagging imprimatur,a valley stood betwixt them.Stonefaced and crumbling ogre
cliffs in beleaguered unison.Her frame still rest on the floor,sofly
illuminated by fading light,cautiously gathering steam,her demeanour now
beating into shape as she felt Dotun's brimstoned scolding grenade,basted her
hilt.This protracted escapades,pilloried under the pinions of moulting
frigates and bent was she peradventurely to burn mimicry not of her own
resolve.He sometimes gelds his sentinel on her qui vive,uninterupted wind,not
coagulated,tilting through her equanimity,ransacking
through the shelf to incorporate
Dotun's Watts and frequencies.The rising breeze,ricocheting through the
windowpane,thatched her resolve,though the stars had become to grow dim,where
vertigo and dizziness summon better part of a mimetic art,kindled so tardily
on a tesselated squares,to which she returned,And thus paces away from the
twain,she whined with one giant paw,scrubbed pintly at the glass,and
dizziness retook girth.She burrowing disinclined,hurled the book aside the
dimpled porcelain,jerked her grit away,to twist and dramatise her swinnish
blurry and swiveling swiz.Hence,sallowed blood of a biblioklept erratically
dozes." goodnight,good...goo.."as she scrambled to blot dizziness
from the blue sky.What a waxing mortal pounding saliently,she cautiously lust
after,unscrupulous to mimic,for where empathy lays,solitude is barely a pluck
afar off." Sweet boy"quoth she "this night shall i burn?"
"waow,"sarcastic grinned,guffawed he"what a sudden pace,still
thou sleepeth!" She will not by homage pays him...
08/22/2017 10:34am
esteem,brittled in thraldom of
pally but sheepish engross.Shard queen of bristly pikes,skippered with
dappled swords and sheathed spears,wherein stalk of brawny helmet,contend'st.Heypresto,he
snipes and began to tease his betrothed sheila and outruns her undulated
guffaw,snuggling her frame at his feet,to stir awake and cranks her dizzying
ribs.Chaste sometimes,drills like a clown,to flag the well upholstered upcountry
collegiate,from unprincipled crucifix of its fastest falconer and fleetfooted
dear.Beneath the valley stoop their ramschackled home,exiguous in comparison
to the adjoining ostentatious abodes. From the Allegheny mountains to the
Missisipi River,the sunrise vamooset for the sunset,with its valedictory
booring,yanking momentum,a vainglory for the sunken day.The sunbeam colours
darkened the living room,clogged the eyes,shrinking eyes fallen asleep.An
ambience that spurred his heavy feet movement to jab her voluptuous bank,from
dense snoring once again into girt,slipping emery from his feet's.....
center of gravity,from which he
sensed signal and notation by heart,to conjecture the encroachment of
dizziness,rampaged by tickling of overbearing snoring."Oh,what a
fiddlefaddle! rest time so soon."as she barely fell off the stanchion.
He felt the prop of her head,slipping off its rendezvous and flung her arms
into shape and her body,dramatically placed gently on the sprawling
sofa."really serious"as dark goggled his scrambling feet and
alighted back to the floor to rekindle his bushel.The roaring waves of the
furlong rain,now smashing the roof,with its giddying light and rattled
noises,had marched down the hills,blew its dudgeon across the vale,in
hurricane zigzags.The dark patches of the sunset,he could lusciously
feel.With hurricane cluttering sound of the raving waves,swarming the
window,her ribs greedily dozed off and galloping with gallant snoring
baritone unease.His fleet footed pace,struting timely at the window,was ample
resort,to avert the firing grenades of the waxing waves and creeping mirth,
wearing its masculine
swagger,minacious pounding of immanent torrential flood of
rainwater,overwhelming the ricketing window,as nocturnal plow,eloped with its
fugacious passage.The dizzying town,went to town and osmosis went to town
with it.The bludgeon reticulated its ado and morning breeze,rose from the
greenwood,rattling the living room cottons.She woke up,to this scented air
and so soon,was she briefed of the impending harvest and routine
transacted,reverted back to rest.The midnight oil and now golden morn oil
burner,stayed wide awake,the starry night,his retreat from the alcove,barely
employ eminence,still junketing his wraith with bazaar of books and archived journals.The
love sick duo,hailed from the neighbouring towns of the adjoining
hills.Thunderstorms emote from the furlong hills and she dozed off wherein
optimistic retreat was dimmed by enveloped pall of his embroiled vertigo.
09/01/2017 10:08am
Bludgeon To Be Contd.
CRICKET VOICE OF ATHEISM : CHAPTER
ONE
His mind was made up. He was fond
of wisdom and could read anything at the slightest ease of excitement and
provocation,even text on tattered sheets of paper,on the road and the
strength of his legs,melted at the stumbling upon books,to the point of
reckless reading inside toilet.He had thought of reading the day out on
Monday,but it skipped his mind,and was consumed by writing all day long.The
next day,the urge to write,a truculent savage of writer's block and
heypresto,he could find a means to annex and avert its momentum."
Oh,read,read and read everything until vommit blood,belch or bleed"he
muffled.Then he took up his monstrous facade of books,one by right hand and
other by the left and headed,with his rumbling,ready to belch after a
sumptious meal,headed to the toilet,to arrest his monotonous mood and
monomaniac reflexes of a mental blockage.Lost in the mental stupor,he read
nonplussed about 40chapters of his book on Business Law,that he inherited from
his father's shelf,within
two hours of asphyxiating
mastication of raw texts,what a fleetfooted readership and scholarship!His
rumbling stomach vamoosed and pronto,stepped out,heaving a sigh of
relief,having adjusted his motleyed dresses,to himself.The day was chilly and
so,he headed towards the neighbour's door.He was impressed by the bustling
street and after a twenty minutes of luxurious promenade,that followed,he
stumbled on tattered sheets,flung on the street by a middle aged woman,a
groundnut hawker,hawking away his likelihood.Therefore,hellbent to pick them
up and did have a glance and lo,it was a Jehovah Witness booklet,popularly
known as 'Awake'that lay fallow,with its meteoric contents and he reads:'Is
there a God?','Where do we originate from?''Do you bellieve in God?'These
esoteric words,like crossword puzzles,lying dead,now with glowing fire,in his
hand,petrified his Africanness and pulverised his wobbling feet as they
stumped him but stimulated him.Segun's headspin was intense,a reminiscence of
same esoteric books,in
And thus,as he boycotted his
direction and bade to return home,it was like a ballyhoo and indeed,a boloney
of ballyhoos,when the groundnut hawker returned,and she went ballistic with
baleful intent and held tight,his back pocket."Give Me my papers
back,you thief!"still locked his back pocket as they bandied words,flung
in their ballistics,baned in ballyhoos of open ridicule and he was on the
receiving end."Are you deaf and dumb?Can't u speak?Get Me,my papers,am
the owner! give me!"her barbaric metal took a new tide as two or three
men and passers gathered round them." What is it mama?you want to tear
his cloth?'he barked at her"Who are you?Are you his brother,the brother
of a thief?"barking"no, madam,am only trying to mediate.let there
be peace o !"And the second mediator thus began" Young Man,is it
true?what did you steal ?You dont even speak,are you satisfied with this
public ridicule?what is it talk are you dumb?" "no sir,am not
dumb"he cooled the raging fire,bareback and barefaced,"so what is
it?are you
a thief?tell us!"By this
time,hewas over a barrel with the barney and vitriolic barge,barmily danced
at him,stiffened his neck."first ofall ,leave me my cloth,you
idiot"he rattled twice with his tongue,not batting an eyelids,"you
thief,you bastard,i will not"as she raved anew and second mediator,anold
man,struggled to separate them."please madam,drop it dont tear his
cloth."having batted him,the old bat,was pacified though with batted
breath,to accede to their request."hello sir,i did not know this woman
from adam and she just came from nowwhere,accusing me of theft.what a slip of
tongue!" "which slip of tongue"she raged again"are you
the owner of my groundnut papers,which i used to hawk.i boughtthem from
malam.""but i saw them lying scattered on the ground and i picked
them and arrange them.how come,you embarass.....""embarass what. i
owned them but i mistakenly dropped and i wanted to sell only to
discover,they were not with me.so,how do i hawk""am sorry madam,he didnt
know oh boy,please give it back
09/04/2017 1:01am
please give it back."The
raging spot,a specious cluster,after an hour was jampacked with hordes of
triggerhappy miscreants,street urchins,mischievious fellows and
blackmailers,with guffawed gusto and sarcastic grin,save the
mediators"give it to her now"one mocked with ridicule,who stood
behind mediators,as five other jesters,chorused similar lyrics and clapping
inunison of public ridicule,though the funny event was mired ina
culdesac.When it was time togive it back to her,Segun,thewhipping boy,in his
usual contumelious characteristics wasrepugnantto their wishes havingbeing in
another salvo fired whimsical,to their stance."i will not
giveher."And likea whirlpool bath,shewas begun with rage again,whirling
and whinging."give me my hawking papers"as she try tobreakthe
mediating bulwark betweenher and her enemy."why wouldn't you give her
belongings?Are you content with disgrace?"the old man retorted as
ragamuffins struggled with the bulwark to beat him"we will beat you
thief,you idiot"butthe old man pacified them
"You guys cool down
please,let us settle the matter amicably"turning back to
him"sir,for her to call me a thief,did me the highest disservice,to my
intergrity. I think her wares was not worth more
than3,000naira?""what are you driving at?"the old man
replied"ah ah useless man,papa,maybe,he wanted to pay me.Not three,my
market daily is five thousand naira except for supplies to malams and
otherresellers on wekend.""so,you Want to pay her off,""yes!"checking
his levi's,with tattered but now well arranged booklet in his right hand,as
he a southpaw,ransacked hisfront pocket for fund to rescue evasive intergrity
and lo,heypresto,the crescendo and cadence of vociferous jesters and
ridiculous chants,capsized.Instantaneously,the first mediator shifted his
tardier but pulverised feet,behind the once raging hawker,the old man stood
mouth agape and the whole caboodle of jesters,ridiculed in return and left
gradually"just because of this little but free booklet,by jehovah
witness? incredible that is unafrican."old man
still stupefied on the specious
spot as he handed 4,500 over to her,who whimmed with relief and whisked with
repressed joy,for the jackpot of bittersweet,bad-turned-good samaritan.Two
Jesters who departed last,were curious about its content."oh,boy what do
you think is in that book?" "go to him,let him tell you. Were you
in anyway related?""so,what is your problem with a foolish man
concern,a messy story of a madman picking book on the road.that is
madness!"he remarked bitterly as they moved hundred paces away"
haba,you hate him too much butmade up later""which made up,it
wasshame that made him to react positively,trying hard to regain
streetintergrity"pacing away from the long culdesac,to a vanishing point."We
Africans,we barely read let alone.they say put it in a book,blackman barely
read it and here you are,trying your own little quota,to clean the augean
stable"only the old man thatwas left with him,after departure of the
hawker and first mediator respectively."Now what could have fascinated
you to that?
And you are also boyant,ready to
spend not only to buy intergrity,if possible,but go to any length to seek
knowledge,even at the point of ridicule.that's fantastic"ecstatic in his
voice"sir,but why is it that only you out of the swarmy locust and sea
head of jesters,understand me?"inquisitive,though he appreciated the
good gesture" Anyway,am a lecturer in a private university,babcock,where
I teach philosophy and my little child of 12,loved to read as well.Although
he could pick up,some of my old papers in the bedroom dust bins or waste
bucket,dust them,read them and later write similar things,emulating my poetry
skills,but not to the extent,on the street!"readjusting his feet,now
laughing hysterically."i wanted to readphilosophy before i opted for
law.niceto meat you sir,i lived in the next street.""but what is
your profession""am a realtor.sir,can i collect your contact?A
sister of mine is trying to study law.Who knows,you could help me
out""09036790644.call me,am in a hurry.okay?"jumping into the
nextdanfo.
09/08/2017 6:17am
At 4pm,Segun,forgetful of where,he
was formerly headed at the close end where his friend lived,before the
unfortunate incident,took him unaware,reluctantly returned back home with
tattered booklet,in his face,and his face twisted painfully at the booklet
when he thought right there,infront of his gate that this might be last
time,when they would ever embarassed him again.He went straight into the
summerhouse of his large garden. There,he sat down and read four to five
pages,and created havoc once again.As he glanced at himself pitifully,across
his peach coloured quilt and blankets,the thought of his library shelf
preoccupied his mind,which rattled across his startled looks and the five
most voluminous books,he had acquired way back,at a local newstand,written by
atheists on Atheism,drove his fancy.And heypresto,he stood up,from
behind,climbed upstaircase and headed to the library.Though,he was able to
find them,but dusted them before use and settle to read.And if he had been
sunk,in this imagination,wander
ing,cluttering his feet,she would
have spent the whole day wandering inthe garden,like a wanderlust and the
whole day,gossiping away,at his friend's place,for nothing,like boisterous
female gossipers.But he had tremendous fun in the garden,which within an
hours of booklet meditation,drove his high pitch clamour to cloud nine.The
garden was full of spices,roses,flowerbeds,fruit trees and misclellaneous
fruit plants and variegated patchwork of bushes,laced with nature's moderate
spine of intermittent breezes,that ricocheted his passionate rib.With this
ambience,what a beautiful garden,clamouring for attention,that often drained
his energy.Nevertheless,the gracious lawns,with enterprising elegance and the
occassional voices of glamous plants and animals,singing as the day,dawns or
dusk approaches,it offers he a grandiose scenery,with which to prey and play
his eyes upon.The topic atheism,occupied his mind intensely,had prickled his
spirit,since the last embarrasment and its assymetric emotion.Being an
African is
a topic that was often criticised
and touted by blacks as no go area andwith any adamantine,you could betouted
as the great antichrist.He had made up his to finally,read up,these esoteric
books,that he hadfive years ago,acquired from newstand and local
bookstores.As a voracious reader,he was ready to be informed,and to avert
procrastination,his thief and theft of dreams,which had ravaged him,long
ago.Now,breaking his boundary to read,that his eyes could not
stumble.However,he loitered his sloven feet,but calculated towards the
alcove,a commodious cavity between the library and his living bedroom.It was
like a research lab,where disturbances,maketh an allien entry.Clutching the
tattered booklet,in his hand,he went straight to philosophy section of the
shelf,to search for more resource items,including the ebooks,audiotapes and
video materials on the tempestuous subject,then he sat down,at his alcove to
read,the books,he had acquired on leaving college,being the focal point of
the antichrist study.As planned,he
an area that was often touted as
no go area.And so,he was determined to conquer his fear,battle
procrastination,the thief and theft of his dreams,to be learned,once and for
all and go through the books he had acquired,five years ago at the
newstandand local bookstores,onleaving the college.As a voracious reader,had
thrown muchweight behind the subject,withoutgood perusal of the dangerous
cocktails of its intellectual toxins,that his eyes and feet,could notstumble,headed
to the philosophysection of his shelf to search for more resourceful
items,with an intention,to head to the alcove,a commodious cavity,which stood
between the library and his living bedroom.It was a like a research lab,which
maketh disturbances,an allien entry.He loitered his dirty feet,clutching the
tattered booklet,in one hand,added downloaded ebooks,audio tapes and
videos,on the most maligned topic,by an African.And then,he sat down at the
alcove,to read the voluminous books,with window several paces away,blowing
breeze,to further titivat
09/09/2017 8:46am
Segun finally taming a lion's
heart and getting over age long biblical sentimental thraldom of eternal
damnation and such notion was no longer deemed satanic and his instincts
right on the seat,that it was the right thing to do,as he flung open the
first Book after reading from the tattered booklet also opened beneath the
books." Does God exist?"he reads again and now intoxicated in the
esoteric chasm of fabricated mortal history
es himself.Segun finally taming a
lion's heart and getting over age long biblical sentimental thraldom of
eternal damnation and such notion was no longerdeemed satanic and his
instincts right on the seat,that it was the right thing to do,as he flung
open the first Book after reading from the tattered booklet alsoopened
beneath the books."Does God exist?"he readsagain and now
intoxicated in the esoteric chasm of fabricatedmortal history.As he flung,the
wordscorresponded in the opening chapter,"Where does the world originate
from?Is it from God?or Does God truly exist?" Segun began to get
absorbed and felt that magical impuls,went into readership and
internship,which last till night poached him,to sleep in the alcove and woke
up early morning to resume engross"Oh my goodness"he moaned,yawned
and cleared his gauchy eyes.He did normal body sanitation routines such as
bathing,brushing and dressing up for a Sunday Service,but suddenly upturned
his decision,changed his cloth and returned back to study.
Book;CRICKET VOICE OF ATHEISM.end
of Chapter 1-Curiousity-22pages. The Second Chapter-Eye Opener
09/14/2017 3:09pm
Chapter 2- EYE OPENER At half past
eleven,by juggling with research work and conscientiously making sure,there
was ample motivation to tarry with the work into the evening,segun thus began
to ransack through the video pack to unbundle them possibly for a virgil
night. He narrowed them to two videos and swung them into playing mode,to aid
more ecstasy into the research. And then he saw two guys in the first video
and they began to debate this hydra headed wmonster.
10/06/2017 7:21am
The cricket Voice of Atheism to be
contd.
10/09/2017 12:45am
BURROWING FIELDS.Burrowing fields
gone grey,inthe summer and flaccid in the springand the autumn.And all the
colours of rainbow,gone for a burton.Golden fleece was sunbaked and then
frozen as despicable sundries,from all and asundry.Pebbles of flamboyant nosy
parkers,a sunless sunken floodgate of the atavistic age of the pecadilloes
and achilles heel.How come neuter to burrow,tarnishes its modcon,in a ray of
sunshine,yet zeutergeist wimbles and tumbles as burrow fields gone
extinct!There are choking birds,left in the jungle,and miserabilists
dislodged shallowed midgets,jetsams and gallows'manikins from megalomaniac
tingles of the earth troves.They dance to the melifluous cymbals of filthy
lucre and its zurich gnomes,lumberjack jingoists of immanent luddittes,lushed
to the guillotines of infecundities and miserly,and they and their
metropolitans,rant like them.No one rest its laurels like the laureate
trimmed loonies and as they laddle,still yet,it meeds,as litteratis'fallen
heelflakes to rap,on the knuckles,
the labyringth-a jenesais quoi.To
supervene the tall story,with tall order,inveigle thine art to scold those
inveiglers and behold this mote,this carapace of arboreal eyesore and the
persnickety of inured inventiveness of inverse proportion,sallowed at the
intransigence of the interspersed assymetry.They foul to innoculate the
assymetry,the insidious,insensate,insalubrious and incognito commodes
impairment.Forsooth,the percipients concur,times and seasons are
frozen,betrays him that keeps silent and tardy at the smother of
inventiveness by rising philistinic heaps
10/16/2017 2:33am
PRODIGAL SON.From oft a
blacamoored vale of ill stared whose ill will at ease prodigiously ill
omen-ed pokes ill tempered that it be not a metropolitan,pooh-ponhed from
pollard pollination of pollard.A poleaxe of a psychotic bile from a neaveau
riche.Apparition within me appaled,to pestle within mortal at hushed
pestilential pervasive viola.
10/16/2017 4:16am
And pronto,downward spiral,I
mood,belching the ill-fated horror tales.Ere mound encroached,a fickle;as if
like hoisted petard of the fickle Peter to rob a fickle Paul.Orbiting of
horror suspense filled,psychedelic and protracted protem's unpruned
neurosis,an Omelet of eggs-in-reprisal,plaintive pounces his world,with
grouching rains and windy sighs.
Upon his poppycocked, pop-eyed,but
hoodwinked heels,portentous,a motleyed pall of pawky humour,being pawed his
hazy feet,from the boggy patina.Whereon the castrated gaits,assaulted by
wobbling pedantics,might peddle.Sometime,it peculated,the pecker up of
pejorative pendulum and pendulous:Time itself by time's penn'orth
pennilless,since crevice begin.Nor perdiem,frittered revisited,but a spite of
peregrinatory perdition's rage.Some clowns pertinacious still plumpi'd
through lintels of relinquished abode.Oft did he wedge his popcorned
poppycock to him blanketed,Which on it had superficial surface,but a peskied
mole,laced with populous porkies,picaresquely pettifogging tis kleptocractic
rainment bespoke to the hilt,whereon his pickings breaking the pickety
fence,that picador'ed pickled on inglorious rides,had piggyback axed.And
invariably,legibility not contents to bear.And oft piffle,to shriek not with
the piece de resistance of a windy presumptious boor,in clamour of moult but
moult submerged,doth like.......
the zurich's gnomes ,the
beaurgeousie and petite petit beaurgeousie,milking power corridor vommit
alike fret.
Sometimes,his piebald sky-pie,his
ilk's moisture symptomatic,as they did battery to the ethos
infered.Sometimes,rode pillock,fringes their piddled feet,barely shrunk,being
tied to the stanchion;Sometimes,pinched to pint avalanche,their phantom
headlong;saddle prowl gazes bauble,to everytrod,theyturn like the
rodents,banditry of the commonwealth,barracks and wilderness moulted,and
nowhere pilloried.Theirneurosis and sickos,so distressinglynot
decommisioned,with its wrong tree bark,worsethan its bite.His pinion,nor
noose nor nor loop,not umbilical corded in its jinxy foment,enumerat'd with
equivocal enticement of his equiestrian enthuse.For some espied,descend'd his
gaunt filligre and old greybeard,a contro-bathos-barmied
raconteur,expostulat'd ipsofacto,pendulous his ersatz explicate,barely
expunged extemporaneously and expostfacto,blown gongs enveloped rattling and
startled engross of the jungle folks.Some in their cheeks wither,gooned him
for amplitude expose,belched to avert last extremity,that might
befall his lower and upper
extremities,still his extrovert self,did not bid him to extricate.And true to
crimsoned custom,serfdom would not him moult dire,thence though eyewashly
eyeful hanging on sternly by his pertinacious eyelids.A million eyesores from
an eyeshot his autocratic eyesight drew,Of crystal eyeball gazes agape,of
crystal eyeball to eyeball confrontation and of facetious facade,Which one by
one,old greybeard's blue eyed boy,now old faggot,in a facile threw,Upon
fluxiality of the weeping morn for fag of moult purport,he was not
hellbent,like taskmaster wielding bigsticks 'gainst the slaves.Or warder's
jail that ceases bliss downpour,where wishes yell and fret in vain,but still
strangled facesaver for freedom far away.Of his farcical faragos,had he in
aplomb,diverse and obverse,distinctive his breed reckons,Which he
fiddl'd,firebomb'd,fissil'd and fission'd,to unleash his munition, Many a
fatcat,policticking amplified,dipping hands obscen'd in patrimony of the
public toils and siphon'd muddy pie
Fell on the
flat,rubberstamped,sewn in intricate sepulchres;found yet more space to
revert mole back to penury,with twinged flaps nosedived and ebbed,envenomed
by assymetry of polity power hoodlums.
Prodigal Son To Be Contd.
IT WAS A PEACH AND HER WAIST. It
was a peach and her intoxicating waist,with a orotund hey,me spoit?no,no,no
but yes perforce,prudish and lo,it was like on the barbarians'highway,she
still evanesced with the ever rushing mammoth crowd,on Sunday of Lagos midday
tepid heat.Oh,it was like a flash,will i ever see her again. That o'er this
darkish hazy moor and nebulous field,of hustle and bustle,she did vamoose. In
the midday banter,a light,alabaster-skinned,pretty dew of
heaven,breezes-by.When barbarians do gossip at the rancorous plenary medley
of the newstand,hey bantering,blah,blah,blah,blah.And sweet above compare
when my chin i raise,did my jaw dropped,for the angelic maid.Sweet damsel
than i ever before seen,surfaced like bolt from the blue,and lo,at the
quarrantined banter of Daddy Canada,engrossing evanesced forever.Betwixt the
hours of the banter,cramped with trips expose to Canada,With a trembling
presence,and ho,a trembling sinew,this pretty amazon,would my hearts,fret
lie.In the visage oil painting,
quavering bone,that fond'st day
beheld his acclaimed sole dew,from heaven's above.Did I woo her?Oh a
loungelizard,my feet emboldened.When barbarians do banter at the newstand,the
pristine parliament of the grassroot,indoctrinated with craps and crafts,hey
blah,blah,blah,blah, sweet love above compare,never acquinted with
passes-by,O sweet love beyond compare!O sweet love beyond compare!This
torture o my tendon like a pregnant woman,quivering with mottled
feet,raptured by agoraphobia,that quakes even my breath,at that hour of moral
rape,blanketed by intoxicating waist.And thence,be reticent and relaxed,with
this lover's bug,if thou cant pull a maddening stunts,when it strikes, With a
tremor planking thy introspective within and tremor eviscerating,might be
easily caught off guard,for love is the anchor and crown of a mortal soul,how
so hellish,to heartbroken.In the canvas footdragging and hocospocussing of
monkeys and bamboos'hoipolloi,my soul pretty dew from heavens,that day,when
barbarians do banter,at the
Igando Newstand and hey
blah,blah,blah,blah. Sweet love above compare,thereafter evanesces into thin
air.Will Someday the elope into thin air find?Oh not my mystery peach,not in
the graveyard,whereon sapiens nebulous thrown.Will i my elope resurfaced,to
quench my qualms?Oh,will my elope resurfaced,with that same bluish velvet
rainment,adorned in company of her comtempory,strolling the promenade,perhaps
into eternity? Time Ticks On.
MISERABILISTS.'Miserabilists'and
neither identity nor stunts pulled,Supplication,entreaties galore or
suffocation upon entomb the damp squib; Nought but that fritter assigned to
the providence,that solitary confinement not equited at its burning
cauldron,to distinct ados, from all asundry and cast aspersion cloud for him
who lay sombre with indolence beneath.Most wretched folks,who chose his
fate?And he himself by himself,sedulously alone,could thus have agitated to
dare make a difference
And carve a niche from the cloud
of living dead and cotteries of the airful sown, Nor stigma that he scared
unto himself dismembered from despondent shores,betrothed womb,toward
dreamland.That every trod might a smashhit downfall,with the farthest aplomb,trampling
your obscurity. Bird of passage,strange to the earth shores,pass softly this
vileness of transition to salvage the contrite golden sojourn well lived.
10/16/2017 11:52pm
B.]PRODIGAL SON.These vilous
flicks,flexed in the public till,cynosured with mammoth roving eyes,And oft
salivate,clings opprobriously flung in horror,floppied'O dementia' thou
flippancy still shirk to moult,What foggi'd fodders dost thou
exemplify!Incognito would have painted thy portrait,much more damned
here!'This voice like a foghorn,not fly by night,in top rage vents he the old
grey,Malcontent footle,so breaking Omelet in reverse,footles footle away.An
irreverend night that footlights footloose impugned reverend gospel,What
fucking hell o blusterer! that the footloose knew,of footstray a psychotic
furlough with fume and fret,hurled in full toss,of gauzy fusillade and had by
its slice of genitive verb and genius loci let go enmasse surefootedness and
gentlemanliness.The quirkiest groundbait to lure,guised as they begrudged,towards
the afflicted jetsams'simpletons gullibly threw.And thus gunged by
guffaw,gustatory gusts them to gusto,frightfuly,frigging them with a gyp like
gyves to the gaol's flagellants
,gyrating with their halfbaked
gymnastics,on the gyp's spot,whereon living dead jonesses yell adinfinitum
and posthumously.So slides he,his hangman's noose,revert to same
groundbait,he had set with his harumscarum folks.And grandly distant,whisked
nights its princely karma,on his dining table,by his side,a rehash of old
hark back,old recompense.When he again desires to be freed,incarceration thus
anew began,And Karma being sat by his jade,by his sate and by his side,his
grievances,old frankeisteins knew no bound,If then harvest moon like harvest
star,at harvest home like harvest noon,feedest greedily,there might be no
escapees,this hellish folks,Which may by karma,suffocation and asphyxiation
ecstasy barely assuaged,tis eponymous villains pay in full throttle,this
nemesis of harrowing headwind.O harrowing headwind bizare,thy nemesis thy
shoal,basketful!"Old greybeard",genuflect he "Nought,me smears
hewn,behold the heartbreaks of manifold seasons unruffled,let it not
wrath,pang my footsore,wherein so now hath
multiplied,upon my leprousy,i
might as yet redress gusto,fresh to my judgement pluck,not appall'd,if i had
one more verdict trial,redress jinxy to myself,not forsaken' 'But vain is me
too late redress,a senile gall,it was to heartaches,a voluminous grief,Of one
by gander,naturewit's cumudgeon,so vitiated,those fiendish dickens and stolid
stook,creviced his cycloned feet;addiction lack'd modesty and hardly no plea
ever made to moult; And when its gangrene potion did he unleash,he was damned
and damocled.'His cupid gander,did maidens'hearts curl;And very daft and
damnable,lightnings'the wind.At his dabble and dawdle,decibel now sunken,as
his deportment now spiral,What's vile to hanker,aptly will he find:Each
ravenous eye did not brawn to descalate,for on his defacto defecate,his mien
was not at all,struck in little quandary.What deodorant festoons,in
dereliction of duty,was dung of derring do-ed?'Mammoth flicks of ignominy was
yet upon his grit:His barbaric phoenix himself stupefied he to stuporous
neurosis,...
like unsticky detritius,cleft on
that rocky but rudderless mound,whose bare sandy savannah,outwitted detrop
the detonate,it deuced to pay.Yet,diddl'd his diet by that demagoguery,an
exorbitant imbroglio;And lurid infections,dilating,diced away troves,in ding
dong battle loss.If dime were as it were,or best a dozen worth,would it not
have mattered?His sternness were brute as his vile,for a pedestal
pedagogued,he desecrat'd and thereof detest'd homily;yet if villains moved a
mountain,was he such a hell?And oft'twixt dipsomaniac and bawdy prune is to
prude and binge like binge,When storms billow dire,gunging though they be.His
insolence,so froth,with him crescendo-ed passion,did Jene saiquies,vicious in
a wedge of discountenance.Well,could he still fathom now highland fret at
dunghill and oft jockey to disoblige civvies.That rubbicon,his pass exit from
the rudder takes, Beauteous sate of surfeit,dickens by countenance,What
orotund,what rigmarole,what chicanery,append what halt he sickens!And
controversy,then....
he sickens!' And
controversy,interogate him at the exorcistic,punitive and esoteric feet of
the old greybeard,When his trojan horse,manifestly by his heels
,tergiversately his harply afford,or he being his nissus,tense essay,by the
binge,they steed.
But nimbly,ramrod on this
fasten,the specious jailed,His dizzieland jazzy masonry,was dipsomaniac,wine
and dine,To purtenances,melifluous cymbals and dances danced,hoodwink'd in
himself,now in thiscontext sloshed;All remorse themselves made villainious,by
their offence,Not fermented at dizzying,not to say a dicky bird to trim
dimness pall for moult,pierced not his tendon,but tis the dunghill
metaphor,he cringes.Oh what my speckle at dunghill metaphor and dunghill,now
say a dicky bird!'So,on the heel,on diddl'd tongue and aspersion feet,And
deeds of derring do,interogates he,the existentialist old greybeard,And all
explicates sombre,casuistryand its immanent,snowball'd betternoire
impugned,for his boon,stilldidnot him avail him,from the torrents of the
weepping dusk,the hysterical laughter as guffaw deeply pinges than footsore
at footloose,He had the diatribes,the tirade and doctrinaire docile.Hardly
submerging his double dutch,dolorous self to wriggle out he,at his hounded
homily,tis dunghill metaphor'd,
his recalcitrant craft.Now,too
jumbo,to vouchsafe,genuflect he for a second chance,afrosty before the wisest
man in babylon.'Thathe did a rodeo,in the bossom gadabout,of his
ilks'impenitent folks,Of gaggl'd hegemony,of ransom'd menjack andmacabr'd
public king's ransom,of degenerat'd clime,in their rash momentof rapacious
ogres andomnibus declivity-a rapin'd rancid rampart,bereft of remedy.To deify
the st.blues queer street,with its rancourous,delusion,or make it an ideal
praxis of realpolitik,In deluxe,dichotomis'd this clime,in yonder
ramshackle,sequel to wherein with his folks,he restrain'd,Dejavus
bewitch'd,ere he crave,have genuflected.And denouement for him,what he would
not deny,fasten'd tothe wall and density,his karma obey.'Diverse a host that
did this torture unscathe, to denigrate their existence and in it pent up
iretheir demoniacal cruelty;like featherweights that in by teleology
befuddl'd be,the derelict'dly desolates,which confines,in their
rapierthrust,they find pleasing to torment or rankle.
Of minacious strangleholds and
tarnishes,theirs in annals desirous and pendulous but unimpinged,And by
detour,detonating in hankypankies,to ambush them.That they
themselves,effeminate gaunts, Marx Which concurr'd,doth owe them writ to
struggle;would they ever take take up this gauntlet?'So vile a Summer,so vile
an Autumn,so vile a Winter and so vile a Spring that never immutably
lost.More than sweetly dire compare of his diaphanous bitch,his
billows'self-a self punitive attrition,like his ilks,that did no him no
incognito no free.And was my own dilatory dillemma,not in dispute,What an art,an
ass,his youthful gustos appalled,as dolorous verve distends what folly in ass
threw, that infection dilligent in his dunghill metaphors,resurrected to
afflict his intemperate and discourteous guille,at the smother of the
ashheaps,to which he now returns.'Yet,did they enthuse differently,as some
contemporaries fret,Desirous of him,a second chance,somehow second fiddle,nor
being moult pendulous awakened; vommitting him.....
in reverse,not so forbidden,should
he strikes again;With the atrocious acts,i in mine honours,so much bristl'd
in implore now to counterpoise.'Empiricism'for methinks,i doff my hat,a
manifold tutor of pedagoguery.Of dispassionate disintergrate,which so
embedd'd in bone marrow,foil cannot gash,of these rolling tonnes,that gather
no moss.'But ah dive bombs,who ever distraint and distrait by its allurring
explicate,The precedent of pith and livelihood,ill-admonished he to keep?or
impulse exemplifications,'twixt distort himself grand assay,To dock the
counsels out of perils?wiseacres may halt a while,what will not endear;for
when we moult,a soul is oft a pendulous karma insulat'd.By blanding
himselftomake writs much more purile-doggone.'Nor mend,its
quicksilverheelsfallen haggard beneath,thattheymust precaution others to
err,To forestall neoplasm,poisoned chalice and hence its neologism exhume
anew,for dread of karma,that peaches and pleaches punitive garb'gainst his
heels.O karma from time immemorial,spareth
no rod.The bald pate that hath
soiled its noble hands with bathos-swamps,will its bash by bash,be
bash-full;for the fine kettle of fish,wherein mutation is plowed and
ridiculed,would not cease to yell its damocles.O thingummy,first as thermal
spring salvo,fired its lethal keepsake,to pounce on kerfuffles of the
harrumscarum folks,peradventure a retreat to memoirs,to gash,nefarious stunts
and ados.If not moult,thereafter triggers hell at full blast.'
10/17/2017 8:06am
'For appologia,i could forment
that adamantine next of kin,knew no karma by its Newtonian impulses and foul
of its beguiling sport;nincompoop where well nigh a nihilist of his
grovelling plant nutpicking grew,bud-nipped and tucked,how karma was geld'd
in his,Wallop'd nobblesse obliges,were ever keen to defile him;Demagoguery
and tirades are nothing but mere farce,And prodigals of nomadic but
nondescript helmsmen,banished by power voodoos,from jetsam civvies,at nodding
acquintance,hellish winces grovell'd.'And long upon this nugatory of noveau
riche,I held my bait,till thus he gan karma he:'nuclear mischief,have of
their suffocation dire,some empathy numerous diobliged,And be not of his
indifferential piety,vows to sympathise,with compassionate gong,That's to
yell and shriek was nothing but a crocodile tears of fairweather friends;for
festoons of the punitive garb,have been ordain'd unto basketful,till karma
pays did he neither deescalate nor controvert himself.
'All my defenses
thoseprotruberances,they mound and haunt,Are musculaturesof time,noneof them
my chaste blinkers,obsessionmade him fret:with allure in his bone be,where
neither chains nor candid obverse known,these folks emboldened to cavil and
not exonerate the beneath that so their shame be covert;And not much of them
intergrity knew,By this vile,city squares in haphazard quandary struck and
bulging bracket'd much of it volley'd in smithereens."Among the annals
unarchived,mine visage fiend,in whose obstructionist flame,maketh the heart
so much a nausea to bleed,Or infection from itsybitsy flexes tis appogee or
of any gestures whatsoever ever invidious soil'd with dirt;Mole feedeth its
fibre on he,but ne'er was apris'd,kept unholly knots,in meanness and
savagery,but mine own prodigal son was pattering,And being patter'd not bred
for pathos,fluxing hood in his derisive despotism."Gander,now what
patrimonies,bequeathed homages to dunghill folks'gusto brew,of paled petals
and rusted nickels as goofs,though..
pegged away,deemed
pejorative,fracturing mores that they,with their libido,likewise denied
them,of gallantry and gape open,curatively denied,in encrimsoned buffet,and
fever pitch-ed galvanic strides daisied by nepotism and
ethnocentrism,cycloned
10/17/2017 1:50pm
in daisy and daggers drawn,but
damndest dallying philistinic heaps as it were,when the flag was
bunted."They dare not presumptious,that these folks,the dickens of dastardly
act,frippery fringes,with the hoohas of the higglepiggledied frisks,stirring
up a hornet's nest.Have we not been all derelicts of this horse and buggy
menjack on horseback,Their dead horseflogging,horror stricken,hopped up,in
their chambers of
in daisy and daggers drawn,but
damndest dallying philistinic heaps as it were,when the flag was
bunted."They dare not presumptious,that these folks,the dickens of
dastardly act,frippery fringes,with the hoohas of the higglepiggledied
frisks,stirring up a hornet's nest.Have we not been all derelicts of this
horse and buggy menjack on horseback,Their dead horseflogging,horror,w!j
stricken,hopped up,in their chambers of horrors,wherein hoipolloi by horse de
combat,are mornfully beguilled,With the saturation of ambiguous,not heave a
sigh that did him amplitude,hot up its hotwaters.
10/17/2017 3:27pm
"The horselaugh,why it was
impudent and hotpotato,whereto to his inverse proportion did tarry,giving
hostages to his fortune,in whose dunghill asunder now haunting greedily,wobbling
in sickly dalliance,with nebulous plow,hardly mend hugger mugger:With
manifold hullabaloos,each on the indian files, its rubicon well hotseat'd
taken or ramrod huffily cast over the hump its hubris vomit."Lo,bliss
howsoever,now a howling wilderness of atrophies and infectious civvies,ginned
away like the gipsies,from the gilded chambers and gilded palaces of gilded
youths,of punitive nights,morose palms and morning crows hotwater'd,Nature
hath tend me that i by gospel,be moult emblazoned,But succumb where they
themselves art pleased to fathom,that is the kernel of going into a
huddle,for this variegated howl,must by libation be,since I their
mediator,naturewit enrobed me."O demotion of yours those hums and
haws,whose gliddering glides of inverse proportion,now huddled in ghetto,o
slum art naturewit pleased to return him.Now Take..
all the stigma to thy own perils
and disrepute,hollow'd with hungermarches,that burn ablaze the miasma streets
aplomb;what reproof,you mince for your insubordination,unscrupulous bay:and
to your ensconce waylays. Their ill-wills grouch in plenitude,pouncing on
their heels,their karma never weary grew."Lo,this infelicitous was
consigned to Northernwind Civvies,those nomadic tribes that like monkeys
still liv'd on the trees,deciduous not just in the summer but all seasons,Of
contaminated desolates,of superficial philology;which smother,jetsam's golden
fleece,in the boggy swamp of public toil,did revile,whose blandest
jackanapes,hatched by power jackpot blew,for he was that breed distanc'd in
that aridland by infinitesimal ken but much savagery.But kept its beguiling
sport,that did thence smother beneath folks in dunghill,to jagged jester of
their precarious horizons'endear'd."But o achilles heel,what
legatee,isn't to leave them in desert,the jive,that jogs memory at
psephological times and seasons and pledging
what not capable.Grasping the
nettle,which did none succour to savage folks'neurasthenia and neurotic
wobbles?Playing this beguilling sports,scor'd in illimitable gyps?He that by
his arms akimbo,lends fast to his newel of nine days wonder,the scalpel of
his contrives like his ilks,gapeth beneath folks,yet hors de combat
smother'd,And maketh a virulence,sitting gallantly at the glee of
metropolitan contempt."O implore thee not,in that thy grit is
adamantine;those apoplectic incidence which tarnishes thee to the public eye
and public gallery,at this stigma,did karma lay its brute force exude,And
now,he would not its cloisterer's wince forestall;pious knot incarcerates
hazy eye:not to be nugget for nuissance value would he imbued,and now to
nudge,recalcitrance to subside,all nutrients to liberty uncensured
procured."How hazy spoor and a hazy spoof,then are you,o when you
refrain!The broken song that to me cannot be sung,have indured omnibus spigot
from which they spoon and sport,And mine obliterate to hurl upon
thy rudderless bank:And I
stringently,bymammoth still persist,overyour grit and you over me nastyand
excommunicable,must asunder thee in the dunghill retains,as exemplification
parade sickos and neurosis of thy ilks."My bowels had dissatisfaction
sacred charmed,Which deem'd delirium of stale,likepathetic fallacy i
anthropomorphism,wimbled ludicrously in grace,Assault'd its infliction when
they by battery of absolutism,begins and pugilist throw;"All intendments
and unfair pledges giving pale'Now,on his pattella,intermittently turning the
sacred hagiologies"o my most indefatigable penninsula,bond,bid him
scrupulous intimate nor eschew,in him,hath penance,done sting nor at full
pelt,confine to his ilks,for thou art master of thy fate and all penances,are
thine karma pendulous protuberances swung."When thou piffle,what are pie
eyed precepts endear,of a pigheaded pigmentation?When thou wilt moult,how
cold those munitions,still splurges thee to climb,of decapitat'd throne,of
supercillious spoof,kindred of pow,..
10/18/2017 7:32am
of bristled lethargy,armed with
infections that capapied city squares with fractious ailment,'twixt
carteblanche unsmouldered,'twixt despotism and ethnocentrism,And pleach by
pleach,in the turmoil are pangs sown together.O how grasses asphyxiate,when
elephants brawl."Now,all these plenitude,kidgloves play,exculpating yet
themselves,from the excruciating bleedings,bequeathed to groaning
folks,pinning away unmourned;And this inglorious fanatics,a factitious old
faggots,facelift factuous,shortsighted and faceless fatcats,thrive as
prestige in public assault and battery.To avert this scump of fleabags as mad
as a hater,rampaging this flatspin,and haymaking obstructed by haystack 's
needle,gone haywire.That uprising uproarious be and undertake revolt like the
Bolsheviks Of Old Soviet.'This pounce,this needful heaves,tug at my
heartstrings turpedoed and heartsick,whose hebbiejeebies tis heigh hos,then
were hellishly ostentatious on gregarious contempt.Each week,a
repugnance,ruinning down,masquierading hippies,
With hither and thither,hitches
hoisted amidst a hobnob and hogwash of hoitytoity hoipolloi,with so much
rashness,in their face boomerang!Who being hothouse plants,with dickens froth
protuberances of unfair roses,that flagelation through idealism,which their
tepidity,barely idolises.'O brethren,what a sigh of relief heaves!In the
infinitesimal lobe of one particular tear,But with the illicit grail,of the
ignominious jerks and bristles,What rickety palms,to ruse will not muse?what
grace so infecund that is not appended here?O bald pate!impecunious
hoipolois,fallen inallienably at holocaust.'For lo,his passion is nothing but
an art of boloneys,even then repugnant his reason,my reproof,there he be,
hellish by mound,to refrain charts and chastity,i rus'd reflexes off my
sombre guille and civil gaunt,Serene to me,as his brisky brimful,all
intergrity as appurtenances;though our dreg this bland blushing threw,His
potion potion'd me and public contempt did thee,but rebuke.
'In him,amplitude of idiosyncratic
customs,astringent lays across the burning ghats,wherein was availed and
gewgawed and all quirky norms dilate,of his chimera to thrill appogee once
again, or of chiaroscuro-ed chicanery or chiselling chockfullness and old
greybeard lampoons he,now a bull in a China shop and sated to brawl and his
leave,he takes in gutter stupefaction.To chink his loungelizard and gallery
dancing,betwixt his contemporaries inveighed or to what barometer,will we him
gaug'd?Fond of choking chisellers,'That not their stook,nor pleach,which in
their clambake miscarriag'd,could clamber civvies,clamourous much worse than
ever,and clanger droopping by unfair roses,illimitably plow,And veiled not
the civvies,in vomit,did gyp in persist.To castrate
10/18/2017 10:38am
golden fleeces wherein in the land
they seek,when he and his ilks,hardly cleave,hid them and live the Civvies
out of clover,expunge them from the book of top etchelons,otherwise bliss a
cloudcuckooland,with its chimerical cloven hoofs,pure dreary maid to their
salvation'.Thus,with his heel,stamping dust away,vacuous and
arenacious,vamoosed into thin air,Naked with open shame and clothed with
garment of ridicule,how tempestuous,time flies like karma in the sky,which in
vile boomerang,every soiled robe repay,who for both young and old,rod not
spareth,clownish playing Civvies' coattails,yet in clutterring fashion at
apotheosis,smote them with damocles sword'd,why should i keepsake gain and looses
again?O that infectious feet of hemlock,o that cold and hellish crevices
betwixt civvies and gilded youth and harumscarum folks,hobnob asunder,o that
civvies,be no thrown in the sponge too naively,o that countervail, might
their countersink be,o that inflicted cowboy might exemplify how punnitive
charm,dispose them oth
Otherwise,with no
introspection,their illwills would yet be perenially a reverse of perverted
folks,back to same vomit and Civvies mutate from an endagered species to
extinction
A HOLLOW GRAIL OF WINCES AND
REMEDIES.Is a hollow of winces,across burning ghats,haphazardly hankypanki'd
and laced betwixt the submerged causeway and its winding slope?Of
happygolucky harlequins and harlequinade,hexes the briddle with highwater
mark,of highly stung,seeking palladium,slung in the hightide beyond,And there
inroad,the high tension and highwater come hell bled.One placid morning
winces ere the cloud had highton'd ensembled,sunbaked,hotfooted,in this
hotwater and hotpotatoed tardypath,ill sated hothouse plant,planking the
bay,with barehand hypochondriarchal in turmoil,toy'd with subterfuged winces
as mere stroll in the park.It was an illusory and dare not vommit,such
illwills not immaculate as fugacious winds and blasting storms had tossed
beneath,wither or wince,o wight in thy widgets,cluttering feet or gnat
straining,each incognito,incoherent upon prior salvo,googly as they goof,and
in that mote of infiltrated neurosis,Not inviolable or innoculated,did they
insouciant trigger to inveterate tis
some inverse proportion of
introsective intumescence or introversive intuision that hardly reinvigorated
the surface and stormy surge of the sedentary bonemarrow.Heypresto,not yet
halting nor ebbing,an inviolable composure!And remedy of winces once
again,deemed with freak as vile;in its omnibus beguiling sports,dandy
invertebrates all along,making a hoodwink of irremediable reproach,that was
its pinions,its vulture,its cricket flight,its ironmongery,rather its
verve,and invariably,jackbooting with remedy-jettissoned,what with this jelly
are jetsams'alike,all asundry pitfall,were purged nor jejuned by this
vile,And now to inverterates,pluck judgement at a fresh perchance,to
instigate remediating levees or scrutiny too fain groovy,either to be
dissected from its jeering spots,On which it grew or to be lacklustred to
venture to its own vomit,diverse a fern,jives this tardypath.Mammoth still
impenitent ferns recalcitrant and haply that those jocunds of jestering
jibs.So,stately dignified of this damsel,
nomenclatured:hotheaded charm,in
its humble abode,set ablaze on lovers'night than placate by the parade of
belicose brood or jingle grin of the manx,on a fine piety kettle of
fish,whacking his kettldrum at a recess lawn:So fared she by passers' by,that
sparkling dusk,from the sunset,Meanwhile,a niggling was slapped upon he,when
he first amorous salvo fired,the rodeo mirth of lovers'bug,flocking the
recess lawn,to groove its flamboyant clubbing,disdained greedily his feet to
the furthest encroachment,flocked to those fancies and damsels earth,were
emotive blank fires of the spirit,he plunged in this mire,when in a twinkling
of an eye,a glitterring and glimmering haze was unleashed,infront of
jawdropping fanfare.
10/23/2017 1:38am
A handsome wight of
Adam,pigeonholed as a bully,a draper,winced his golden feet artlessly,but
obdurate at her emotive garb,in the estern wing of the clubbers'night,it was
moonrise and was like an oasis from the desert' 'Obfuscating,improvident and
feckless'lover bitch dazzles maidens'partying,blokes must be
adorable,fashionista and oarsmanship unblushed,a breed,who can loose no sleep
of the strangulating amorous oddysey,when it strike,lunge's tactics hire
immaculate is ample and some meagre alterations,widget'd wherewith to hedge
her slippery antics' Eavesdropped he a stranger,intoned fellow draper and
alone stood he as melodrama unveiled the obverse.His sickly gaunt
awakened.Close to the spot,drapper winced his legs so long as his frame could
carry him,which alone maketh him,loungelizard cringe,for his hagard self
emaciat'd,Alas,the ambidextrous adonis,in this grandfinale,alternates his
horsepower to ploy her to his tent and heart,with one wince and then
successive volleys,winces by winces he,cavorts
with ease remedies,won her
heart.What plays and coys,so cunning a fox,were soon to be jubilant as the
old sleigh bells.And sobs he,the lounge lizard at first volley and
salvo,frittered away providence and the boon of a precious gem,motheaten by
haply longuer'd intendment,in contrast to she who fell weakling for his
wizzardry.
A.)PRODIGAL SON.B.) APOLOGIA.C.)
EXPEDITION IN THE JUNGLE.D.)ARMAGEDDON.E.) MEMOIRS;JUBILANT AS THE OLD SLEIGH
BELLS.F.)OLD GREYBEARD'S PASSOVER SONNETS.G.) VALEDICTORY.
Apart From Prodigal Son,the Rest
Of The Titles Above Complete The Epic Of The Golden Morn. It Begins With
Resorgimento.
RESORGIMENTO.Even as the
subterfug'd correctitude,with corrosive cosmetic countenance,had defeaned his
crabwise cranky crabb'd deviance,of the lugubrious earth,diatribes
disenchatment dispel'd ovation to the diffusion. Dispiriting,he
dispirit'd,but dispirit,he divin'd to dock this lachrymose earth.Dripping wet,drowsi'd
Alupluto,a deciduous tree,deciduous to beat the drum,unto the dross
aversion.And like a drum marjorette,dancing to the wiggles of the cymbals,the
gallery dances,gins to woo dalliances.Much mendicant fairer than
he,himself,of these ilks that play drucks and drakes with money.The golden
boy,came into the city,amidst the slipknot out of the slippery slope,above
the age of consent,Alupluto's exegenesis, stain to its sparsely
hagiologies,much more dire than the clutters of prodigal sons'aplomb,more apocalyptic
and daft of deeds of derring do than the immanent slingshots are,Naturewit
that hath made Alupluto,hath slog with herself at more than dire slide, Saith
that the prodigal sons hath sloppily
slinging with their
catapult,slough though tarry to abate her slick,And smacks out of
smokescreen,the smooched sucker and a smirch of slushfund,whose
volume,stash'd away offshore,unsticks and smash'd to the
smithereens.Hardly,had he vamoosed,the whimsical whipping boy,that the golden
boy,with the torch of unflapable resorgimento,emerge to the warm embrace of
the old greybeard,genuflecting and to him,before him,at the winnow of the
oracle.Thus,with his triumphalist lungpower,this snipper smithy as
ever,hoists the snippet;" Thrice gilded youthful fairer and fortun'd
beckon'd than he,over whom prospects and providently,prettily
counts"thus the old greybeard,browbeating the throng,snappily began its
snapshot,with hands on his bald pate."the field's chief sniffer dog,not
to be sniffed at,sweet above machismos,with aversion for snootiest pall and
hardly sneezed at them,more spotless like alabaster than their snipes and
strife are:Polity that bred thee with itself,harldly not unknown,even oracle
itself at strife,to
to snoop out,thy homage,saith that
nirvana,hath kismet,with thy life. Solace,thou trickish to sojourn thy
solipsism,And sob's story,its douse stink to the solenoid-magnet.If thou wilt
reciprocate this sojourn for the needful placate,a milliontimes
wiseacres,solecitude and solidarity shalt thou belabour at strife for
reckoning and resorgimento,let not advantage and boon of time slip thee
unhallowed,And being set over this serpentine gulf,not cloyed thy heart,with
deviance as prodigals marrooned ilks,maketh them,by beneath folks famish'd at
their decrepit shibboleth,What suave stubby are thou to stymie their struts
and shibboleth,making them gaunt for eternity,O how oracle speaks with
esoteric dialects,beyond comprehension and stomps with pond of beguiling
sports,above our tender perusal,inapprehensible,with multiple cuddles,not as
a coercion,the stertorous sticks in the mud,as rambuctious sticlers,sticks in
the mud,with the precedent of gross animosity and livelihood.How frosty,fall
betwixt the stool,stomp
Alupluto,tis Oracle,the messenger
of kismet,to the dying but grouchy plants,how dessidential folks' incensed
stircrazy,eas'd cephalic index at the stirring stodgy,placated by oracle!A
sojourner's day at nirvana,will an hour like an eternity,And trembling by
Aluplutans,in this purlieu-brewing scumbags,sepuchral serendipidity,o
pitiless boys,dissident folks call it pleasure,insentient septic
tanks,scrounging the beneath civvies,schizopreniac with scholastic
schmaltz,Thou a lugubrious earth's sovereign god,to do the damndest godly
good at this unwraply resorgimento,Being so thawed,hegemony doth lend thee a
holly hanker,Viccisitudinously,to Pluck thee,from the dungeon of
ashheaps,Over this one sallow clime,a saviour the toast,to twister,this twit
of pestridden fleabites and parasites,succumb'd, Under thee,o potentate coronate
and viceroys,ultrasonic unmbrages in pale disdain leaden'd,They red as truant
and even truce ever straying and he red for ignominy and frosty in totter,by
sullen bagatelles swung beneath,
O how haste is the chaste of
hoipolloi and uprising,they cometh in revenge'Instantaneously,there was a
sweeping mammoth,flung swankily to Old greybeard's ovation to the
consternation of the golden boy,hail him." "Long hail,the
coronated!long hail the corronated!The gregarious folks,having been grown
dizzy,of whipping boy swansong 's stinkers, chant,rose to ecstasy,with the
herald of the squeaky clean eponymous hero.Squidgy was he of his squidgy
frame,a squire from an alien stablemate,stage fright waowed first struck,but
yet stagehand'd and stagemanag'd fret,wanton lie.His nimbly,hot as coals of
glowing fire,risen from a spring cleaning eldorado of Alupluto's revolt and
squall marshall'd by him,squash'd annals in his benefaction.The senile in
reverse pelted him with tones of interrogation: "The gauntlet is scaled
down and even more dire protuberances,to sloth the horseback and its ridden
piggyback,Backward they pushed Alupluto and forward leaning driven propensity
as he would be thrust sinew-imbued but no
10/23/2017 6:09am
t spent.let them
thee".So,soon was he on his sit,as he was wooed with plaudits,Each
velvet sheen sheening on their plunges and their lunges.Now doth he
stroke,the throng,with his electrifying elocution,now doth he venturesome
bully veracity as verisimilitude and tote browbeating and random,If thou wilt
him touchstone,thy gesture touchyfeely,shall never bereft him.
Peradventure,touch and go,beyond mere touchy sanctity or raptured
evidence,concoct'd by oracle.This torment of torsion,he hardly burns with
bashful tornado,Doth torpsyturvy,totter the the torrential musculature of his
machismo,then with his windy sighs,reads his torah with uncommon piety,to
ferry the dreaded tonnage ofhis passionometre,in their defence,over this
lugubrious vale and now ratiocinatedbank,Senile saith that he is toothsome as
the oracle,aptly tittletattled and titivated his lordshiptitle deed,what
follows left to time his tinpot lashes,tintedly tinkers.Even as tilt
tinge,timely ado,tires with his beacon on pinions,twinkle and karmabone
Tingling in the yonder
morns,feedeth him on an impecable resorgimento,with good tidings,thumping
throng in eulogy. Till either times be threnodi'd or threshold preys on
him,doggone damocles:Even so,he thrifty throve his thrust,his thump,his
throttle,and where he,derelicts,senile doth a new begin,Forc'd to
demagoguery,but never disobliged,from its obeisance,trammeling,he pays dearly
and recompense breatheth in his face,and he pays it but greedily feedeth on
trammel's tramway as a trajectory on a traipse,And calls it
'apotheosis'tragicommedy',an air of grace,whose glut is as ennobled as flacid
smashhit.Wishing his trencherman-like subtleties,were plates and
dishes,bereft of toxins and cholesterols.So,there were dew'd his with such
stupendous trenches.Behold,how tangled bird in tangled knot,cannot snap, So,fasten'd
he to thestanchion,less tolerant of sedulous typos and smudged pecadillos of
power voodoo,even to two-penny-half penny tyros,unschool'd its dungeon arts
unspar'd,It was twitchy,twichier,twitchiest
yet he clings to
damn,So,fasten'd,Alupluto's kismet lies,Sedulousness and
solicitude,embroider'd in his tendon's fury and tug of war,made him not
wanton fret,tub-thumping,Which bred more entreaties,in his frantic cheeks and
so,hung utilitarianism with his rapturous lungpower:"O
placate,"gins he"i placate thee,flint-hearted folks of this urban's
frenzied sob's story,tingling tympanum gall,Tis but a pacify,implore,why art
thou not stunts pull'd?Have i not been woo'd by senile he,as i titivate thee
now". Even by this turpitude and direful goddess of karma,whose
unruffled turgidity,in retribution,never did saddle-bow,who wasps wherever
mote,she spots in every old faggots;Yet,hath he not been a potential captive
by virtue of legal lordship title deed and a slave?And being implored by
statutes of ado,that which burrows earnestly for wasp waisted justice upkeep
and safeguard.Over this resolution altars,hath he his salvos hung,adroit with
intemperate crest,hath learned to fondle townspeople emotive bank as they...
whisk discipleship,in his
homage.And so,with he his apologia,for expedition unflinching,they were
numbed and punchdrunk at his punchline.
APOLOGIA.And so punting,he punts
he,his disclepleships for this overwhelming purgatory expedition,to quell
shrimps,shrewish bitches and shtum wizards with his mercurial quiddity and
quidproquo,the quills and quesiness of these harumscarum folks,at
Alupluto.The rabble rouser,rankling aod pouting at power with rabid
rabble,stamping his feet,to the ground and raison d'etre,for the punitive
expedition,raucously and raving'gainst this league of recidivists'
folks,somehow guillotine immun'd,Even still,so stamped his feet,his
recherche,his homeostactic receptacle,under siege,his polychromatic dexterity
engross'd,Long was he dew'd with distilling forays and vengeful spite,which prettily
overflows its cartharctic bank,For to a throng pretty field ears he prunes
his tales,still is he crimson,still he pommels,and prettily pommels,Being red
with vengeance,they love him best,his fair immortal hands swears him dire
above derringdos.Look,how stale they cannot choose but love him from that
tardy path,a poltroon ponds,from
his soft bottom.And they now
dreamt of usurping dickens'bespoke zombify of the city's townies and Zombies
and realign Allupluto,to a paradise of equity and utilitarianism,till
contending tears no more torments,which long have drain'd its
floodgate,making it a refrain,until the ugly duckling's ascendancy;And with
one sweet salvo,above compare,hath he them convinced,Aftermath of intense
volley,his voodoo and vogues,worked like magic and he bathes them in
demagoguery,unopposed.And when his lips,hands and legs,were brisky for the
vengeful mission,with this rarefied volcanism vociferous at the summit,they
barely wink,nor winkle.Never did the beneath civvies,envisage such enthralling
winsome,like a gazebo where they put their heads,for a recess,from a stormy
sun.Calumniat'd where help they see,but help,they cannot get,wherein
eleemosynery,a fugitive,in their shores,for mastering his craft,not as it
were,with illbred folks,but foil'd the goddess of deceit,and being bold to
sport,over this wishywashy wistful plains
Whereon they
witchhunt,blackmail,backstabbing and willo'-the-wisps,wimp'd
underprevilled,And hisbeauty as the spring and episodes,wiggled on the indian
files,doth vicariously by mutate,hourly grow,And so dew'd with wits,he
spoke;"For every generation,viccissitudes,inform new verve and a fair
trip,upon the green lush,be no betrayed.Dance on the sands of verity,and yet
let footing be seen,and asphyxiating vermins,with waspish long dishevelled
mole,at this vertiginious vertex,be expunged,from the history books at
Alupluto.Expunge them,they this countryside but nomadic tribes,hibernating
from the northcountry,a fifth columnists,of the bandits'raid and periodical
vets. Is history so light o pity folks that upon the greens and sturdy
trees,verdict it cannot give,to draw it from the hazy cloud,over his primrose
bank,where Alupluto lies vertex heavy that it cannot be villified,that we
should'st think it heavy,to lampoon?Is thine own kismet,to thine own land,not
tied? Can thy right hand that tranquilising tranquility,
seeketh it well blossomed,bereft
of fiendish struggle?"Oh,of all times,you are the worst of all
vociferously nation,galled by turpitude.Then boo thyself,for out of stigma,to
steal thine from them,thy hallowed freedom,And so narcissus,triggers paradise
on earth,for the posterity.Thou wast begot me at full throtle,to be discipled
by mine and thine to be led by mine,the road is short but long,tis cascading
brook,willingly thee,to drink.Unless the struggle,with thy art be fed,upon
upon the earth's fugacious field,freedom thou cannot get;for freedom springs
from struggle"And so dispute,thus commenced they,a handful of the
electrified throng,rose to interrogate this validate:"O tribune,thou
sprinkled amaze,amuses mine gore.Vampine bats,thrive in the forest at
Alupluto,and by its custom of impunity,thou art bound as they and we are
bound to be led.How vapid are thou to strike there in? And titan,still
bloodhounds,still persist in its hideout.Two decades of raid and
bauditry".
10/24/2017 5:26am
With burning lips,did it overtake
him: So,thou like mine exhumed not bathos and by mine,thou art armour bearer
unleash'd,this lazy sprite of vampire bats my burrows unveil art infest
northern vertex at Alupluto's Forest ;if they burn too vile,at this vale,
i'll quench them first by the rear,fist by fist when they lay asleep at night
and then forest batallion shalt hence strike,from its obscurity and rocky
slope.Much heart felt therein,that darts forth fire though at variance doth
much harm.At full noon,on the morrow,we shall by gongs and swords fire the
pyromania"And so,the chants arisen,the gregarious twits,graciously anew
chants;"long live the coronated! long live Alupluto!"The teeming
voices thundered as he boycotted remainder duo for pending interogation.And
the rabble's distending passion doth provoke,stupendous jubilation tis they
dispersed the uproarious rabble,across the urban nooks and crannies.Now left
with the senile tongue lashing,serving as valedictory warning;"A
threesome battalion not.....
uncultured,fittest as the fiddle
and first salvo must be fired upcountry,that which plays second fiddle ought
to graze like vulture,north of the Alupluto's Forest and then rear
salvo,nocturnal bent,making entry within lovely but desolate caves,if
possible,a nocturnal annex not immuned,and be the intemperate crest,thou
shalt at midnight oil burnt,evanesced and assure thee being jubilant as the
old sleigh bells shalt break asunder in the grand finale,the slippery gordian
knot,of the fifth columnists,their proteges the bandits inclusive rampaging
dissident in the land".His raw and upright but sententious,barefaced
pilloried at the senile's enigmatic sentinel and esoteric ordnance.And on his
bended kness,his sum total cudgeling,sentiency plummet and acquiesce to the
wisdow of the owl,with its witly responsive bulging eyes and horror
voices.This gentle majesty,his cuddle embrace and so did his consumate trojan
horse did seethe;"Am i not with pleasure at your side obeyed? for thou
art sees as the oracle sees." And
he looks upon his love and dying
breath to spank lugubrious earth.
EXPEDITION IN THE JUNGLE
10/28/2017 11:17pm
To Expedition To be Contd.
Expedition To Be Continued
10/31/2017 7:57am
ARMAGEDDON.By this unruly fugacity
of time,the warsick eponymous hero,within his purlieus unbound and
faraway,was begun to prodigious.This quagmire indur'd exploit he,its purblind
folks and the psychotic paraplegia of the voodo-ed scoundrels,at its
nocturnal fracas,workhorsed even as worldwise,yet as worldweary with
overwhelming fairsight,wherein moment by moment,as they struck,uncommon but
wideyed serenity blanketed the pleateau,white elephant luxury,had wizened and
wizardry fled itsjuicy spots,a ghost stown,kleptocrats cringed and wobbledat
no commodious palladium,for this wasting vendatta.Hence,from the meadows of
theRiver Abesi where the Sahari Camelsfeed,to the north forest of
Alupluto,stupendous massacre of the harumscarum folks,thwacked the
lugubriousearth,its fifth columnists,its randombanditry,pilloried and
rapined.For where a victory is sought with open hands,they makethno hasteto
procrastinate.With unyielding heart to accomplishtheir pledges,battle the
siege,every gladiator,trumped toits stanchion.
Garrisson men rode
piggyback,nightwatchmen with swords and spears unsheathed and grief and
sorrow to the shepherds,in the adjoining hills down to river Abesi andbeyond
the forest vale,markedlyfallen and exchanged for good tidings.Under tentacles
of old greybeard luminous rays,they shone like the moon and like the sun,when
the dews of heavens,dew'dthis mortise of scornful earth.What a nocturnal
hour,was this enigmatic vertex,when the wearymoon turned a golden
leaf?Vagrant did they live,vagrant did they brawl,vafrous,did they
unison,untarnished and vagabonds of the earth,come unstuck among them.The
suavest stratagem did they not untangle?Sometimes,after their shoalswere
carcases,fed their salivation and abstemious bellies,withstrawberries,a
modicum at one hand and munition,at the other hand.Butfor those pouted lips
and clutches at straws,when naturewit,chose the bolsheviks to draw the short
straw and then overpowerthe vertex straw,were slain,at river abesi.Oh,the
streetwalkers and the streetwise indoor stay'd!
10/31/2017 3:03pm
Long may the mischievious and the
miscreants,kiss the lugubrious earth. Recidivists claw that tarnished and
smote benevolence of the humanistic modus vieviendi and like a moggie,seeking
to devour its rodents,were they not devoured at the forest vale and sinking
plains groaned?Then,he rode to the palace,like a suitor to be twain'd for his
coronation;wherein his generals'assays and censure maneavered at evacuating
the decapitated monarch,pays dearly to return freedom back to the dying
kingdom.
11/08/2017 9:33am
'Fair king'quoth he"if any
fret,for this pleateau,it be the affection for it;if any tree be planted,it
be the tree of unity.The forest and foresters are no more gone to the
vampire's bats and the vultures,O sedate charm thy home,thou hath returned and
thy impuissance thou art mauled with marching orders.O sedate charm
Alupluto's earth,thy footstool,thy reverend lotion lickspittled,lustrous
adinfinitum".And then he bow down to perk the mourning earth and then
bade the mishievious nights and dolorous morns adieu forever.
11/18/2017 4:46am
To Be contd.
SHALL I COMPARE THEE TO A
BLISTERING BLITHE?Shall I compare thee to a blithe,blistering as the
wind?Thou art more bland a blandishment and intemperate as the riding
horse,wishful can go,A gauchy cloud of battering rams and arcane arboreal,And
a disgusting bellylaugh on thy bellybutton,canst not restrain
thee,Sometime,too bellyache,the belligerency of thy bellow bell-rings,And oft
is his benefactored beneficence dimmed; And every fair or unfair mound of bellyache
and bellylaugh,By beset misanthrope breeds or berserk's traitorous wings
clamour;But thy bastion barrel,shall its munnition slouch-exempt, Nor barb
gauchy cloud to its barbarous mustrous muster cringest,So long as wights can
blister or words can blithely bandy,So long within this barbed wire,modus
viviendi barbs and this slouch,a vendatta unmoored,A contraption of
existentialism,we are fallen;for there is no censure without baits.
OSSIFY.Art he more temperate than
he is,a mutant he,never bereft to mutate.And art he devoid of mutation,giddy
hell,headlong falls, When in ossified emboss,giddy art,giddy hell enthralled
imprecated. And emollient bubble,hath all too inalienable stigma;for art
without this embryo,ossified by windy sail,a dung for the boggy swamp.Never
dare to ossify,but when osmosis impinges,giddy art,giddy hell teases,a
tearjerker
OSSIFY.Art he more temperate than
he is,a mutant he,never bereft to mutate.And art he devoid of mutation,giddy
hell,headlong falls, When in ossified emboss,giddy art,giddy hell enthralled
imprecated. And emollient bubble,hath all too inalienable stigma;for art
without this embryo,ossified by windy sail,a dung for the boggy swamp.Never
dare to ossify,but when osmosis impinges,giddy art,giddy hell teases,a
tearjerker
11/18/2017 7:03am
SHALL I COMPARE THEE TO A
LOTUS?Shall icompare thee to a lotus?A lotuseater and a lounge,fibrillating
in the blue sky, Thou art morelotus and a freakish lounge and no gadfly to
thy freckle, Bathos-wranglings off beam,a beachcomber of subterfuged purple
birth and gilded forays,And downthe hatches,hath all too hellbent-ungenerous
to batten,Sometimetoo benumb,that archipelago ofphantasmagoria anomie,his
bearhugs screwed,And everyindolenceby its bedbugs,like a
walrusmoutache,hanging on his own,its sloven bedfellow,By beatniks'spurned or
bedraggled intendmentbecome or therein moreishpsychotic bedridden,But thy
bedlamtransit bedsit shall not its timber slumber,Nor baulk obsession ofthe
unfair lounge, Nor shall indecisionas sloughed as loungelizardin thy bone
marrow with bated breath,crumblest baste, When in baroquebarkings,to bark
thou growest,Solong as with your barehands or that immanent barrenness can
pluck,So long barefaced,this gong of balderdash lines and unfair lyrics
sings,glued to thy feet its doggedtwain
A TARDY PATH BUT SOLICITUDE.Hardly
had the day gotten a beaten and tempestuous, That my visitant had taken a
tattoo,signaling his antiheroic prentice to a bibliocractic oddysey,His
binoculars pulled staunchly,tasty and tauty,over this grit hath hung his
lance,And thus synchroniously and asynchroniously,was begun the tattle with
my sibling,a selfacclaimed blueeyed boy,whose indignant talk-to and
reprimands that barred ethereal espionage away,Sometime this smashhit
repugnant razzmatazz,pissed him off this paroxysm of mine deadhand
brotherhand,And it was a tailspin,when that eccentric oddyssey and the day's
quirky pall,seizeth its sweltering palms,on our nebulous feet,plying tardy
path,but still by skimpy intent forlorn...
11/23/2017 11:29pm
And so was the tresspass and then
tettering the tardy paths' axis.Thereafter,adventured,the Mistimed
Oddyssey,as featherbrained dunces,we evince perplexity,in rigmarole of
effacing eerie,peregrinatori'd and perambulated,an unsung but esoteric
greyhack press myself and he,a quicksilvered pedagogue,famished with sonorous
eagle and sobstory roused by its uncommon solicitude.What an unwordly
priceless wight and my heart clings to him like a promiscuous lass.My tendon
dumbstruck,when with this eagleeyed predilection,gems in my personage exhumed
and he,in my stead,sedulous pulsated.A dutiful altruist,snuggling solicitude
into my bespoke mementos and megalomania forapotheosis,unimpinged.Being so
enkindled,tactile dutybound to spank my ignition key,doth lend its blister.Conscientiously
pluck himself,to dung my drape towards nepluslstra,look,how oft over my
gem,hath he endeared solitude of his garnished solicitude.He was
downtoearth,not repugnant to expel my down at heel.Hardly,did he doze over
his holistic cheeks
11/24/2017 3:20am
to clamour my reminiscence and
browbeat my sedulous dicey but quickwitted singleton into my bespoke
treasured innate elymassynery,enroute passionate sinquanon,vindicable by
outgrowth reckoning.Was i doolally hung?Oh,doolally was i momentarily hung
but my ungraceful steps with his fair lips coagulate: though mine being not
so fair;yet still they doodled tis but the glorious herald.Upon this
culpability,wherein my tendon grew as stuck,narcissus so with this
cornerstoned trigger of his solicitude,spanketh my poetic endowments as
dainties to furthermost salivate my wearied smashhit intendments.And this
cinch of a chutzpah ochestrated by himself,batten down my hatches and above
my furnaces,stupendous aplomb.Thou my alterego's crapulous solitude solicitude,an
appogee's coxswain,over my ferocious lance,unbriddled hung.
How crackpot was i,plummetted at
donkey age,to desecrate my timely endowment's smashhit stratagem!" Thou
wast begot my coy"his temerity fondled.And he saith unto me" i 'll
be dutybound to thee and thou shalt coxswain benefactor be. Feed thou,where
thou wilt,at my bossom,my solitude,at my bossom my solicitude,on misty
mountain graze.Graze upon my solicitude,and if those contradistinction
contends,and solitude,its millieu entangles.Consort thy wits where
consolidate,upon this conjecture and conjured time consigns."A tardy
path stinks a tardy path,wherein sensuous winds,numbed the adventurers.A day
and a day frittered with impunity,even though like a sheep at the
abbattoir,did i go with him,himself by himself benumbed by its domino effect.
11/24/2017 5:46am
to be contd.
11/24/2017 7:02am
ON THE HIGH SEAS.Shoreless out of
shores,left behind.St.blues. Shrinking violets.Oueer street. Unequivocal
storms.Ulullated.Winds vafrous.Vagabond vamp up hell. Vacillating.Paresis
gallivant. Penology farce. Pax and paddle pasquinad'd. Parablepsis pealing.
Sunken parapet. Paralogy bemoaned. Eschatology pennated. Ships sank.
Oh,tragicomedy. Transit paradox. Scatological threnody. Perfunctory penumbra.
Pelagic pantomime. Triumphalists saturnine,but fairy trips rescheduled.
Oh,what an ominous paragram! Birds
of passage twitched.Holistic goofs.Not a holly passage.kowtow.
Obtuse.Obstruent.Sometimes,obstinately and obstreperous.knack and jubilant
obvolute.Sometimes,grandiloquent.Gravely,gravid. Guerdon goblet glamoured.
Clung like a limpet. Godly girdle. Sometimes, glabrous viscous glued like a
gizzard. Not pouted gimlet,malodorous and infraction deficient.Visage
sterness embossed. Insentient . Howbeit,on the misty,misty on the high seas.
A holistic homily! Oh what a boon transit!
The boat paddles.The rabid sailor
sails.The ship cruises.The Yatch yatchs. Terrific Ocean surges. But Captain
and crew stupefied. Sparkling plugs overturned. Spartan speculators.
Straitened seas but now straitjacketed. Straitlaced lank. Pipping hot
pipedream unplugged. Like a streak of lightning,triumphalist streak
streamlined.Peddled peek.Pilloried pikestaff.Persiflage censured. Panoplied
panorama. Pantomime plunged. Penumbra pandora boxed. Odoriferous oik oggred.
That aloft parexcellence.
O,HAGIOLOGY- IT WAS A HELOT AND
HIS HEEHAW
O how outmoded,living on trees as
babboons and monkeys are like hagiologists are pretty not undisimilar. And
being set by time entreats as time nicks and to the catchy but tuneful
tales,its gongs euphonious and melifluous trickles by time turneth,prettily
entreats. Amidst this famish,christologists like muhamedans,hung in tempting
piety,slapped with crooked dint,mutilated hagiology and hallucination of the
soul. Till insentient mamoth, trite and truce,piety refrain they to
take,dew'd with windy sail. Hung over this graceless steps,fondling their
navels.Still voyeaurs in this numbed piety,wagering grew,wafting ,waggish and
wacky.
Viscous time,thou art sticky with
narcisstic winds,thy mountainous field,bold to sport and so being froth to
steed that by kismet,every heavenly moisture dewed,reckoned he with its age
and beauty,that by law and naturewit's salvo on the earth's increase not
ossified and nothing is spared,that like Hararclitus all things flow. That
time and only time alone,grows to itself,neither spared customs nor the
accustomed values and so,tis its kiss on rudderless earth,a vertex verdict of
karma.Time by itself,and impenitent billows is vindictive of its artistic
atteliery and stream of fugacious,pugnacious thwacked to spare no exist with
salvos fondled upon its navel. And when it dost chaste,resorgimentos dost
begin. When it chides,her lips barely open nor unleash its potion,supplanted
upon every invidious windy sail and gilded passage alike,even when versified
in ambiguity.
Like every selfied
piety,hagiogists are nothing but sterile wishful cheeks, whose gardens
replete of treacherous flowers and schadenfreude petals,basking in its
vainglorious foils,are like empty eagles,smouldered by time's apocalypse.
What pathetic appologia by recalcitrant apologetics,in their piety,time's
sooth of windy karma murders with her sunset and sunrise potion.Yet,were they
servile to its sonorous ploy phantasmagoria opprobrium.Scorning
pieties'assymetry, even much more scold joyances of heavenly rapture and
nirvana envisage.
It runneth like the winds and
nebulous winds its glorious herald as glorious passage.And once glorious
folklores goeth moribund in the mere twist of nebulous winds,sancrosanct on
its pugnacious but fugacious milky way as the cosmos tintinnabulates,spareth
not polymorphosis and mutants like hagiologies. Behold,burning midnight
oil,beseeching paraclete for benediction,repugnant of day's gratify theatre
of the absurd.A laborious feet beneath a laborious,dewed with heavenly
showers of the reapers bundles.And lo,in the vacuous morning thaw,thatched by
fugacity,it was an obstreperous helot and his heehaw,whose
mudslinging,spareth not this pious speck,mortified his morphology,that
undiluted crasses of personage,an unexpurgated mores and pristined achilles
conspicuous with hagiologists
That visitant to a holy
shrine,prettily supplicates his desirous breath,greedily entreats and toads
his lips,with pleadings a galore,making he red and pale,in every crimson
dance so febrillated,And not cloyed his wagging lips with censorious mean.
Perforce will trove overflow its riverbank,wherein misty vapour,parched with
blue funk,overwhelmed his unfair sight,an overarching menace,palpitating its
oscillate,a palaver,embossed by gall infested pall bearing palate,palatable
upon contemptuous lips when they with nebulous bossom,blots witly hanker of
its blue sky.
11/24/2017 10:15pm
Entreaties spring entreaties even
as entreaties plead for entreaties to greedily clamour like burning
hell,whose clamour greedily stinks clamour.Narcissus irredentist so himself
in a closet libation,an hepthacentric winces,hepthcentric genuflects deities
above for windy benediction.In the hallo of morning mist tis tireless
twists,tortuous verve,with haggard face pleads he,himself yelled and panged
like a woman in labour,sowed tears yet still sobs till dusk,wreathed over
desirous gilded fleece,pure same vertex,his libido,audacious to
sport,hesitant grows painstaking unto its belabour.Still on his toes,with
deities' lines toed;yet toffee-nosed visitant,a self touted toerag,like
Sisyphus whose helot's admonition,his bone marrow disgustingly detest.Why him
did you impugn,kith and kins of Grecian Sysyphus? Then why subterfuge on
subterfuge,basks in his ridicule since helot's eyes,distant land and distant
gale seen? Did he a clue borrowed,from searchlight beamed?
And in his eyeballs,he looked to
chide. O bathos boy,refrain mortal entreaty! Laborious toil,beneath laborious
sun,thronged with the smartest wrestle,an incontrovertible therapy,a balm to
indolence,a medicine that wows undiluted apotheosis,whose writ ,every wriggle
obeisance be. Plead so,now,if deigns fiddle,on thy mat and desirous
knees,even for eternity itself cannot libate apotheosis,on thy bended knees.
Fortune Keeps its apotheosis,where but indolence on the stampede. Time
thwacks misery with its jaw,when the smartest toil and smartest grace
persevere.O thyself brethren,not be bled,upon thy bended knees infecund.And
in the morning libation,passeth his windowpane to apprise him and unto him,he
saith;"Is hardwork so intemperate,o pathos boy,that winces cannot to
thee succumb and toil?May it not spare thee,had thou smartest think it heavy
to cult?Is thine own heart heavy that its salvo,so froth as teensy weensy or
deadweight thyself cannot fire?
When in glasshouse,barely do you
throw stones and when in Rome do as the Romans do.Those tearaway
clubbers,revel not o revert not in their sport". To Whom,he again
goofed,pleading tempo rose and windowpane shut,but he in reprisal heehaw as
guffaw,obstreperous took the better part of him.And now out in a thumb,those
sports synchroniously and asychroniously bedevilled himself,his hauteur his
banacle,swindled his meeky face.O how the dusk skids speedily,the sissy still
on bended knees,but window opened,though not to alight his siroco of
sisyphean skate.And now,back from the toil of laborious sun,being now on the
promenade,fondled once again his psychosis and rabid routines. Nevertheless,helot's
admonition perpetually fallen on his heels,neither his heehaw nor guffaw,did
the trigger pull.This ignoble clubbers,sunken morphed its palatine with
molassis, Same supplication they tendered,but visitant was stupefied,when
helot,his entreaty procured,succoured,by exemplification,seduced to
moult.Alas,subverted piety studi
studiously inclined,now sturdily
crept its mound,strenuous in the old yore,did him stripe,to elope to the
strangle of ignoble den,he strewed.
11/25/2017 12:32am
His pollard no longer seizured and
from closet bended kness,in his retractile resin,that switched allegiance to
helot once ridiculed.Strapping now in the moult,did his stringency
fret,ovation rollicked,amidst the exhortation, Helot's reproach did not to
him to condescend,tis he replicated by choice and destiny,the same treasured
trove,procured,that which visitant on his bended knees,could not
pronto,reposte,as if with the spirit of the beguilhg sport,hauting
gongs,forbade and pool in a sinecure.
Ovation eulogised and when the
mammoth had dispersed,left him standing with him,who repelled exhortation.
And pronto,his chin fallen,jawdropping as helot heehawed and guffawed his
teaser of temporised teeter and frittered" Had I been heard long,long
ago,two glorious feet would have been this dawn celebrated."tablet of
tears was his guerdon.Wail,supercilous cheeks,how come helot,,in the vacuous
morning thaw,his gasconade and rodomontade,time's paroxysm,prettily
rusticated and sewered its final stray?.And it was merely his guffaw that did
him to moult at evasive eleventh hour,to graze he,himself,a transmogrified
personage,smouldered from specious soprano? O pity boy,gan he snob tis but a
twain he sops. Why art thou snob?
Ovation eulogised him,a helot of a
vulgarian fraction,and when the mammoth had dispersed,left him standing with
him,who repelled exhortation. And pronto,his chin fallen,jawdropping as helot
heehawed and guffawed in reprisal his teaser of temporised teeter and
frittered temporal;"Had I been heard long,long ago,two glorious feet
would have been this dawn celebrated."tablet of tears was his
guerdon,but the damage had been done.Wail,supercilous cheeks,how come
helot,in the vacuous morning thaw,his gasconade and rodomontade,time's
paroxysm,prettily rusticated and sewered its final straw?And it was merely
his guffaw that did him to moult at evasive eleventh hour,to graze
he,himself,a transmogrified personage,smouldered from specious soprano? O
pity boy,gan he snob tis but a twain he sops. Why art thou snob?
NEBULOUS FEET
Nebulous feet hastened by nebulous
winds and gumptionless sickos,And oft is it gridiron and goldsmith
furnace,embanked hazy to trod.Shall i not be compared to a nebulous feet?
Oh,shall i not be compared whereon nebulous feet had been raped by simpleton
and nebulous wind? How sedulous sedition,seethed in its tangled knot, So
fastened in its serfdom seeps,Sensuos sepulchral thatched with serpentine
groove,made him slouch,Which bred more vulgars in his sickly pale gaunt
sickled,Frosty addendum to its briddle that is slothful vile,Perforce
purportless sickos like fecklessness,will overflow its bank,Still nebulous
feet,windy sail,as contaminant of nebulous winds gallivant,still a skintight
skintish;for to a slathering numb,naturewit slangs its slinging match,Still is
he nefarious,still is he bicker and slices slink,twixt gall
fathom,unflinching trudge.
Look,how purportless he himself,he
cannot purport,whereon purportless spasm elongated.And by his spanking
sparkle,he skinflints from nebulous winds,nebulous feet,windy niche
carved,Till he take off rodomontade with her stealthy apparel,Which long have
had tinpots,making nebulous feets to be tricked by nebulous winds,And with
twice crimson transfixed,pays his pristine price of liberty,upon this
scaffolding of sedulous scabrous,did his purportless himself,a savoir faire
uncouth,like a saturnine satire,honing sardonic emboss,in saphire foams,Who
being appendaged on jiggery pottery as mere sabre rattling,sacks moreish
sabbatica.So offers still not sackcloth and ashes,a sacrament of shrimp's
sailor.
But when pouted lips were
ready,for his karma bone.Saga and saga,flown by saga over saga,turns victory
away,Never did a traveller's sahib,more brisky satellite for a satiate than
he did for this strangled satiety,His scintillate,he seeks not but
scintillate,he cannot get,His scientology,he submerges,but buddhism of
scientology he with a scintilla,can not proffer;His scion wryly drowns in
this sclerosis,yet his glowing coals like glowing fire must burn,'O pathos
boy',gan he trudge,'frosty leaden sprite!' Tis but a frosty
scholasticism,rebukes,why are thou scrounge?Scums of the earth's scrums,booed
by nebulous winds,as they nebulous feet's scuds of the scuffles,Thus,these
hordes of scatterbraineds,frittered golden morns at the ratrace,receded, And
for thy sake, o scallywags,vendatta retractile rearms.
Tether rythm pulses affray,for a
bud-nipp,puerile but puffy clouds,quickwitted servile,purportless himself
objectionable and being so quarrantine,choke its pleading tongue and nebulous
winds. And being judge with thy intendments,so shall i be freed,o nebulous
feet but not with quidproquo struck on a bed of quicksand.
MOUNTAIN ABOVE, VALE BENEATH AS
NEBULOUS WIND WHISPERS.
Nebulous Winds at my
feet,unsteadied my fugacious sod, So soon was the mud aloft recede that i was
down on thy nefarious earth. How i gin to scold my foible,yet still
nimbly,keeps me fastened.
As if like an ocean surge,each
raft of nebulous winds,giddied on my bonemarrow and fortitude;Now,doth it
strain my oasis as oarsman,rowind the windy sail,now doth it chokes,And gins
to obfuscates my gait but much dampens my rude cheeks,And Oafing batters i
with winnow's carthasis,where imponderables and unspeakables unspoken,If thou
wilt mute,thy wilful mutilate shalt never muzzily eloped be.And then i burns
with bashful coy,nebulous winds with mountain above and vale beneath,my goof
nefariously outwitted,what follows more,my smoulder perception with grace
doth quench the brutish burning of sullen cheeks, And where it blows,doth a
new i begin,Mammoth forced to discontent and so,were they pulsated to fret
wherein nebulous winds frenetic bays,And they cannot be overruled,where hath
it not overswayed.
to eschew kittens and kitsch and
so narcissus winds so thyself,thyself forsook pedigree of those whose
footings were not seen as mountain glides and vale beneath mewls,as wind
whispers a sentient bellows.Thou,canst not see perception in thy sight,not
thine fructiferous eyes,but emotive bank,in thy temperate moisture condescend
to its eulogy, Nebulous winds,dancing placid placidity placid on the sands of
time,no one is spared,the buccaneers and the buccaneered to the
guillotine,are all whisked for a verdict on modusviviendi.This plaid,all men
alike obversed and obsessive grilleth. Mountain above smokes,why thy night
hand seizeth my philology from left hand 's preserved morsel;to woo thyself
above its frowsty encroach.When nebulous winds at thy bossom whispers,let
that your oasis placatory be and be not hung,in pizzaz of their gregarious
chants, That moreish pandemic,a pandemonium overshoot beyond thy millieu,to
milchcow evasive fortune,the world a mugger,muddy sloth embanks.Then niggle
not over nebulous winds
11/25/2017 9:52am
My pen dribbled with horror and
fortune.Hardly had i scribbled my doggerel above,with the title' Nebulous
Winds Whispers'as a Mystical grey hack octo-poet,that i was out on the
premenade,on the street at a newstand,And lo,nebulous winds thus
began,ravaged street bazzaars,grocers and hawkers,barrowing the day away
under toil of laborious sun.Did i barely exonerate myself with my mystical
stormy pen? I hid under a ramshackled tent,with lank thatches above,leaking
the torrents over my bald pate and the hilly beans at my millieu,hibernating
beneath porous roofs.And the storms cascaded further,beyond compare,circa by
circa,to my chargrin,greedily winceth its troublous,heypresto onto my
trembling feet,my ramshackled sandals.My pacify was hocuspocus with my angel
investor,who was raptured as my discussant and a diminutive wight,stood apalled
his tympanum frenzy.Torrents on the floor,crept upon my nebulous feet,as tens
of blokes,grouched with my same tedious ire.Oh my pen was mystical and home i
returned drenched.
11/29/2017 1:47am
MY GLORIOUS HERALD
MY GLORIOUS HERALD
List Of Poems So Far Written.1)
Ossify.2) Shall I Compare Thee To A Lotus?3) O Hagiology,it Was A Helot And
His Hehaw.4) Nebulous Feet. 5) Mountain Above,Vale Beneath As Nebulous Winds
Whispers.
6.) On The High Seas.7.) Shall I
Compare Thee To A Blistering Blithe? 8.) A Tardy Path But Solicitude.
List Of Sonnets To Be Written
under Old Greybeard Passover Sonnets'series:1.) Shall I Be Compared To A
Sheafless Winnow?2.) Shall I Be Compared To An Autumn's Greenfields ?3.)
Shall I Compare Thee To A Springtide?4.) Shall I Be Compared To A Winter's
Snow? 5.) Palmy Days Soon Ebbing 6.) Palmy Days Spring Tide 7.) Shall I
Compare Thee To A Summer's Fury? 8.) Shall I Compare Thee To A Gazebo? 9.)
Triumphant As The Old Sleigh Bells. 10.) My Glorious Herald
TRIUMPHANT AS THE OLD SLEIGH BELLS.I
am like the wanderlust that floats on the high seas waves, that foams over
hills and vales,on the lakes beneath the trees and the forest,Dancing with
the breeze as they gyrate,gritty as the old sleigh bells twinkles my verve
for a dent in my painstaking pang,My vacuous legs stretched at suicidal
pace,though barely sullied by sulphurous escapades,tossing my head in
sprightly comedy of gutter dance,even as the waves themselves personified,did
dance before me seductively like a geisha girl and i the gigolo,For Oft in
such a jocund,in my pang when upon my couch reminisced,brooks of brood
triumphant as the old sleighbells,raptured my petite solitude.For a manifold
of footsteps,footloose do i make as the old sleighbells,to bliss my
dreamland,that flashes of imageries,romping my bald pate,fructify be and then
with epicure in its sly,my heart pants still. Still my dukes upward maul for
this phantom of delight'triumphant as the old sleigh bells'cherished me to
chant and chantgalore
That was my phantom of delight of
dreams not broken,of graveyards not enriched.When first,it gleamed upon my
weary sight and hazy feet. At one moment's thrills,starred my eyes as the
stars of the sky,A modest wraith,in dancing rigmarole to ecstasy fathom my
bleeding heart.Eulogy,plaudits,gusto and deification,poured on this
inspire.As mouth agape open,the bliss of a conqueror borne out of
indurance,foresight horsesense and a nobly regalia,swaggered with angellic
mission not far away, Triumphant Shall i chant 'triumphant as the old
sleighbells'raptured my heart.Tis no space for a lachrymal infection,tis the
worst pang is over,in a twinkling of an eye,I am as triumphant as my lofty
heights and the old sleighbells. That neither the past nor the present or the
unborn age,whenever my heart's dread avails,with grievious theft evicted,when
that inspire thrills my badplate,stupefied by diurnal beguilling sports,winds
impatience,gripping upon my navel,to flex with pledges and oaths yet
unattained,do i my appologia
braggart in reiterated engross
enthuse my catchy phrase. And then one more step,then one more salvo fire,And
then one more step and one more salvo fired, i am as triumphant as my
dreamland un-suppines unfurled and as the old sleigh bells a cheerful merry
bore. They came into city and they could not triumph meet and hence they
departed. Oh they came into the city to fleece triumph,still they could not
triumph meet and once again they departed like the Sisyphus,pulling the stone
adinfinitum.There is triumph before triumph,there is triumph after
triumph,there is triumph above triumph,there is triumph beneath triumph,there
is triumph in the seas,winds,land and space, All is triumph in their
divergent escapades, As mortal marrows being expectant,jubillant as the old
sleigh bells,all day belabour for the purple birth of the rising sun.
Triumphant At The vale,jubillant at your mountains,jubillant at your
caverns,maketh thee not a discontent when phrases and verses speak.
That oracle is my verve,in the
howling wilderness,when i with nothing for nothing pacifies. When I with the
trip to the barbarians for a nigh two decades throbbed,to assuage my agonies
that glorious verse,thwacked them to my tendon kept yelling and
chanting'jubilant as the old sleigh bells.And bare feet,did i trod it myself,none
exasperated tis my facelift at the dying times,my potion and trauma flees,tis
my dreamland arcane overwhelmed tis my starry morn eulogy appended,indeed
jublilant as the old sleigh bells tis my glorious herald,starry nights bade
farewell.
12/08/2017 10:47pm
DICKESIAN HOURS;AN Excerpts from
SORCERERS STONE
12/09/2017 12:18am
Lord Dickens came to
town,treacherous and oggling.Three bitches of the sorcerers stone, sorcerers
of maiden dusk,In the trenchwarfare and the trenches' magical impulses
wreathed,Dotard bitches,cheesepairing accustomed stings in the potion
wring.Wryly and scarily,they scary torment feckless gowns,with the effrontery
of hell and the vitriolic vituperation of oracle and magical spell invoked on
the unsuspecting prodigy,in their efflorescence of dickesian plow cast.Hours
and hours,hours by hours,hastily they vent,by Belzebub's ordnance,Dickesian
wights outside the castle,on a booskied playground,stertorous stinkers
cannabis smokes,as boozers boozed.Dicky throng etiolated,convulsing amidst laborious
toil,Boshes of convulsion,contemptuous bowls of boors and boon companion
frequent the isle,a splenetic windy sail,a scorch on coltish limpet clung.
What a ridiculous bonvoyage for the evasive birds of passage,spoliated and
sponge thrown too hastily.
Of the spoilsport,splodge of
spoliation defied,a spatulated spank,its springtide spawned,a spine chiller's
spinetingling spill,calumniating bed of quicksand upon which the latter's
modus viviendi's booboos were supplanted in misery,yet disparate bookish
cannot see,yet bonfire cannot burn. Thrice troublous plain's misery assiduous
ensconce,Of the pyrates of freedom,ascension they browbeat to submission,in
the inferno of sorcery stone.Quirky charms and spells,ethereal incantations
cooks its cauldron speaks.So,froth a dickesian hours,tripple potions'
ungrateful and uncluttered flock they a spangle to fleece a blueblooded
clasp. Like Rome burning,like hell burning,broth and bail doth the gnomes
ignominious,but bubbles,eyes of the owls,nocturnal awakening,sprintly
thawed,to the sorcery of the sorcery stone,a tang of the tangential
knot,so,fastened. Plutocracy is unworldly rodeo of voodoos and brotherly cult
beware.
A DIRGE OF BENEDICTION
12/14/2017 12:22am
Between 600pages To 650pages so
far written.
12/19/2017 3:17am
MIDDLESEX COSMOS RESOURCE( M.C.R.)
- REAL ESTATE BUSINESS PLAN.Plan Outline. 1.0 - Executive Summary -
Objectives - Mission - Keys To Success 2.0 - Company Summary 3.0 - Services
4.0 - Market Analysis Summary 5.0 - Strategy And Implementation Summary 6.0 -
Management Summary 7.0 - Financial Plan Appendix
Executive Summary.The purpose of
this business is to raise $600,000 or sell 40percent of the company to
investors. Middlesex is a newly registered real estate investment company
with the Corporate Affairs Commission( C.A.C.) and also a multipurpose
multinational having eye in the intertional market ,but based in Lagos,that
will offer benchmarked services in both residential housing units and
commercial buildings,including rental units as well as facillity management
and a full fledged realtor based services,a full service property management
company,which includes rentals,leasing and maintenance,working with
experienced consultants and dedicated staff of property managers,leasing
associates,maintenance and vendor managers and others such as maintenance
personel,seasoned surveyors and property valuer.It is into real estate
consulting and development and provides full service consultation. This
includes creating financials;finding investment opportunities in the
sector;and researching the best financing option
It planned to acquire about 10,000
acres of land,for its various branded estates project,spread across safer
geopolitical zones of the federation,especially across over three developing
estate areas,in the suburban areas,for future devolopment,with affordability
status for low and middleincome class.Middlesex housing units will offer
standard and quality services,built on consistency in quality and
standard,take growth oriented,with unity of purpose to share ideas and
achieve common goal,balance safety,cutting edge features,customer
satisfaction and create a positive atmosphere for welfare of customers
especially tenants,with unparelled level of customer services,in which the
sales andthe rentals,will be provided.Then,sales are projected to be
substantial in year one,rising moderately but later also substantially in
year 3.It also plans to develop and manageluxury,premium and classic
apartments in selected citiesand approaches planning from customers'perspective,tocreate
a conducive,living working condition .
12/20/2017 2:38am
The Market.Middlesex will target
three distinct customer segments,basically being the residential and
commercial properties segment;the estate customers' segment;and other allied property
business services segment to be distributed across its three market segments
of the topmost or upper market segment; the middle market segment; and then
the bottom rung,mass market or lower market segment.The mass market being the
largest,fastest growing and yet most untapped,most neglected market as
opposed to the upper market and median market will be offered with cheaper or
affordable residential and commercial properties,and also explore limitless
opportunities that abound in real estate rentals.This consideration is a wise
counsel giving the exorbitant pricses of these customer products,operating in
these markets,with seasoned proffessionals,value added services and robust
management,either for construction,maintenance and managing in whatever project
and capacity building,they found themselves,at a given period .
Management Team.Middlesex will be
led by Ibikunle Laniyan and his brother Ajibade Laniyan. Ibikunle is an
unknown freelance Journalist at Vanguard Newspaper and also a silent blogger
at www.kunlemicrofinance.blogspot.com,has been imbued with a pressman 's instinct ever since
2007,when his first article,a postcript was published by Newseditor Joshua
Suleiman,at National Mirror entitled "The Plight Of Nigerian Textile
Mills".This followed years after he dumped being a vendor in 2002,worked
a stint in an hotel and attended a computer school,prior to cameo media
forays that was begun in 2007,when he celebrated his first published essay
and went to publish tons of essays as subcolumnist.Precisely,by 2013 had
started freelance Journalism under entertainment editor Ayo Onikoyi till date
though online journalism had begun to crystalise since 2007. Although the pay
was not much,nevertheless Journalism and media work inspired ibikunle as an
aggressive,gave him an incredible revelation and professional intelligence
into
potential industrial wealth sector
by sector in the Nigerian Economy at large,which was made possible by
covering beats in the print media,as a general reporter,as a voracious
newspaper reader,as an information hungry lion and as a blogger.This gave him
an eyeopener,into the boundless opportunities that abound in the real estate
business.Hehad written tons of books,ranging from Poetry,Drama,Short
Stories,Novels, Po-Novels,Poetic Drama, Motivationals,Science fiction, and
countless papers,on Selelected major sciences,and all of them not yet
published,including vast chunk of his 6,000essays.He planned to launch the
world largest book of poetry by a single poet and also planned to launch 50books
the same day all under his Nigerian City Of Literature Project,that can put
him in the guinness book of world records,have also been put on hold,in order
to explore this untapped potentials in the construction industry.However,it
speaks volume that somebody with this kind of projected feat,is the brain
behind Middlessex.
The Media exposure and also under
mentorship of Pastor Ekong,especially Baba Kwara and Baba Adeniyi,one Of the
world best valuers,close mentors,whom he regarded as "Estate Godfathers
Occult- E.G.O. forming his board of advisers,provided ibikunle with that
basic insight into the riches of the industry,that he will leverage in
addittion to his innovation and licensable intellectual property right,that
can be monetised too,for a succesful venture.The industry badly needed a
revival,albeit populated by quacks,poor strategists,ignorant proffessionals
and shortsighted policy and project managers,yoked with elitish approach and
squanderers of resources,in their care.With E.G.0s and innovation,not even
the sky is the limit.
1.1 Objectives 1. Encouraging
Substantial sales in year one;2. Substantial in growth in gross margin and
revamping it over the span of the plan.3. Net Profit positive by second year
with substantial savings.4. Have a crime rate and loss rate to be zero.
12/20/2017 5:22am
1.2 Mission. Middlesex provides
not only standard services in line with international best practices,but also
high quality and comfortable rentals units' services in the Lagos Metropolis
Area and also as expected across each of the identified market segments
wherein its tripod distinct customer segments will trade.Middlesex apartment
units provides state of the art living condition,embossed with sophisticated
internet facilities,ostentatious and reflective of rapid velocity in the
advancement of mordern day technology and the prime importance of vital
necessity like housing and land.It is not only concerned with profits,but
also the safety of the investments,safety of the tenants, and the welfare of
the of the environment in which they live.It is also a primary objective of
the company to maintain highest level of attainable customer satisfaction in
a tripod of tenant safety,comfort,happiness and then luxury at the upper and
middlemarket respectively. Middlesex maintains competitive market prices,even
as it
12/20/2017 8:52am
is geared towards expansion of the
product line items and agressively growing aggregate profits earned as
well.This requires that in its corporate setting,a coordinate,an articulate,a
coherent,a cohesive and a harmonious that focused on an exemplary mission,in
which employee satisfaction is an intergral part of that approach,that will
make a success of the approach and also key to its duration and longevity
unhindered. Initially,the focus will be to engage the buying and
selling,later buy and develop existing properties and will modify,remodel and
renovate an acquired estate,in order to ensure that it meets Middlesex
Standard and grow its long term assets and income. The construction of
housing units will later intensify and predominantly be focused on the
commercial and residential properties' segment. However,it will target choice
location based on the consultation of Estates Godfathers' Occult or Orisa(
E.G.0.) at their specific market strategies monthly meetings.Middlesex
competitive market strategies
promotes customers and tenants
importance and also ensure healthy relationship between ethical commitment to
customer and employee satisfaction.
1.3.Keys To Success 1.
Safe,quality housing in which state of the art facilities is provided at
competitive and affordable prices; 2. Maintenance of open communication
between customers and Middlesex,in order to obey utmost appeal of first grade
customer satisfaction and enduring reputation within the market communities;
3. To be consistent in the perpetual expansion of the volume of housing
units,being built,owned,maintained and managed,while also substantially
growing an intense level of profits for Middlesex and its investors.
Company Summary: Middlesex Real
Estate is an enterprise that is a round leather,full service property
management company,with basic expertise in the evolution of high quality,but
low cost residential housing.It also places strong emphasis on its robust
training and also pays vital attention to strong customer services.
The first property to be purchased
by the company will be based on the advice of E.G.0. at the monthly general
meeting( M.G.M.).It is going to be relatively located ,at the choice location
that can be easily monetised,so that it will be easily rented,at full
capacity in 10months and thus reduced rent in the last two months.
12/21/2017 3:32am
2.2 - Company Ownership Middlesex
Real Estate is loaded with a lot of big dreams and will be created later as a
limited liability based in Lagos with 40percent to be sold out.It will be
owned by Laniyan Family and major investor being Ibikunle Laniyan and holds
majority stake in the business,being also the acting C.E.0./M.D.of the
company and possibly Mr Lanre maybe C.F.0 and holds stake,eitherdirectly oron
behalf of silent investors and shareholders 2.3 Company Location And
Facilities Middlesex will be started with good office space in Ikeja or
preferably in Lekki environs as determined by corporate marketing
strategies.This will be the head office and heart of the company and will be
linked to its branch offices in selected cities nationwide.We are also
installing state of the art internet facilities,in our offices and 24hours
helpdesk service to ease business communication,with customers and
clients.This is vital to be dealt with in an expedient and
and fluid manner.We will set up
market intelligence,business intelligence,customer and Proffessional\ethical
intelligence teams to act as market informants,as we grow in every phase of
the business,so that we stay on top of the market competition and incorporate
new corporate byelaws.We will show it can be done at no cost.At the cost of
E.G.O. Meeting,prior to full commencement and launching of the company,will
decide the right purchase of the company first property and how it will be
financed and methods of reaping from the investment.
12/21/2017 10:42am
In Year 2,we will be purchasing
the second building and more strategic buildings not long thereafter.It is
difficult to determine badly needed to be taken into consideration for a
start up period.The total start up expenses such as legal
fees,stationery,insurance,rent,construction cost,expensed equipment and other
logistics etc. Start Up assets needed (include short term assets such as trucks,cellphone
etc) and including initial cash to handle architect and contract fees,prior
to grand opening.The addittional cash needed is for the purpose of paying
zoning fees and government regulations.The anticipation of long term asset
purchases and assumption of longterm liabilities is built into the details
which are hereby included in the following table and chart as shown below;
START UP REQUIREMENTS Start Up Expenses Legal Architect fees Stationery etc
Bronchures , Consultants ,
Insurance , Rents , Construction , Expensed Equipment , Other , Total Start
Up Expenses .
12/22/2017 12:12am
Start Up Assets(cash Required)
,............. Other Current Assets................ Long Term
Assets............... Total Assets............. Total Requirements...............
Start Up Funding............. Start Up Expenses To Fund.............. Start
Up Assets To Fund............ Total Funding Required .............. Assets(
Non Cash Asset From Start Up ).............. Cash Requirements From Start
Up.................. Addittional Cash Raised.............. Cash Balance From
Start Date................. Total Assets............. Liabilities and capital
Liabilities/current Borrowing............ Long Term Liabilities
................ Accounts Payable( Outstanding Bills)................. Other
Current Liabilities(interest Free)................. Total Liabilities
................. Capital/planned Investment..............Pastor
Ekong..........,.. Lanre............ Other Investors............ Addittional
Investment Needed............. Total Planned Investment.............. Loss At
Start Up\start Up Expenses.......
Total Capital And
Liabilities............... Total Funding...............
Followed By Company Ownership
Contd From 2.2 Company Ownership
To determine longterm duration of an
asset,we will assume whatever E.G.0s gives us
Services.Middlesex offers onsite
security guards who patrols building projects,at evenings,nights and at early
morning.So,we will maintain an openline communication between the
clients,renters and the management,also via webpage,24hrs help desk
,customercare,videoconferencing,teleconferencing,skype and call in and answer
service,phone etc whichever way possible. 3.2 Competitive
Comparison.Middlesex competitive advantage noted in the tips below; 1. We
offer higher level of quality in all of our units,more than our competitors.
This also allows for comfort in investment.
satisfaction for clients and those
rental residents who hardly desire like everyone else detest to loose out on
their investment;value for money.2. Each units when built will designed with
mordern day technology and internet facilities where clients desire such
option.3. Middlesex marketing and advertising cost will be minimal if not
zero; Deployment of public relation strategy and digital marketing in most
cases.4. The main competition as envisaged will be in the lower or mass
market segment and the lower cost of the apartment units. 3.3 - Sales
literature. Middlesex bronchures and catalogues will be available at our own
offices.These materials will creates marketing awareness and will give
customers an impression about available units for sale,explain marketing
general outline and benefits of the units offer sale and rent.We will also
have monthly newsletter that is appealing to our teeming clients.This will
used not just to inform but also educate clients about our growth and
outreach at Middlesex...
.It also contains human interest
stories about our complexes and residents.We will also advertise in local
papers and massively uses our official website in a way that it generates
more money than the company,if possible offline,adopting models,from Amazon,
Apple's Stores itunes, Ebay , Social Media Marketing strategies and
Software,combining features from online retail stores such Joomla,konga etc and
a portal where all known trade and goods and services can be sold,in the
country and abroad. We will have more work online than offline and that is
the greatest asset of the company,including its official blog,web tv and web
radio,vlog etc. While industry specific publications,to be fully subscribed
to are part of the marketing strategy,creating waves as part of the strategy
to gain audience for sales. 3.4
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February 11, 2019
SONGS OF FREEDOM
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