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And all the colours of rainbow that went east struck gully
gunges
To refrain the equinoctial gales of the old greybeard .
See , how he grunted bardesquely this torment of mother
fucker
With the esquaries.
How hard is it for the pirates to resist white elephant
luxury
A swamp on misty mountains for chic pacifism .
That evinces eastern colors of rainbow
Where the gazelle could flee to gavel epicure and to relief
working sun
Growing pains soon ebbing ,grown up to shoot grovel , hopping
in the grove
Did he knacker to
grunt
Distant thunder grails accustomed thunder to growl thin air
.
With gumption as guided missile ,stealthily tweets pirates
for the guillotine.
Had not the gully gunges gripping Alupluto not stroke and
mist over
thereafter ?
And mighty trees fallen not adorn the bouquet for the undertaker ?
How so grosty the luxury held in the mist had froth impale
the mistimed
And the gale that went to the north went everywhere .
Old little grotto for
the grappling hook taken to the guillotine
Bereaved the greybeard .
When will thou return ?
Gross pit in the open mine have they cast him .
With the pixies of the grey matter to un-gory jurisprudence
Aluplutans fallen in trenches plain sailing outwitted serfs
forever .
And the gale that went
north went everywhere .
Espionage refrain to debit him wherein the old greybeard had
debouched
For the days of reckoning
Never bereaved nor traversed and trajected by dearth was
truthful as knight
of old .
Brandished by orchard ’ s hair raising , earnest money
twinges .
O that crux may not lie !
Nor cuss cruises away
without scion .
Cuddled with barleycorn grill to curry ass away and ass along
Dappled horses at Alupluto court bibliomania sis with glee
And struck with merry girth , dark ages in their loins
Death wishes , death
watch beetles , death rolls ,
death rate and death blows’
common refrain and
goons , struck Alupluto over death bed .
Deadly night pale
girth not away gutter press unction of the knight of old
As trees hoppers hop over Old greybeard .
Harum-scarum venges
the bloodhound at Alupluto .
It pulls in the undertaker
for the death bed rites .
O thou harlequin that
courts bibliomania sis .
Will thou relish that sun may shine ?
A hassle for the gods and medicine
Aren’t they prowled no more and fret withers away ?
Haywire haunted and
haywire funfests
Hawk less with grit
stone to loop head strong
And hazy where golden hook is mangled as sheol dances the
dance of the macabre .
Waow ruffled by masquerade and haunted by manacle
Hurls melodrama to mellow apotheosis .
See , here anew the mountain molehill
See the molehill on the mountain
Here lies the motherfuker .o murder earth
A mug’s game with the mugger’s dregs uncouths in
No man’s land .
And set above equal , the bard ’s ferret forgathers his writ
for summons
As foxhole and foxhounds for the day of reckoning .
Will his fowling piece revives the golden hook?
Foxy , foxier , foxiest
appends the middle .
Not vent his bucolic passion
Froth with buccaneers fiery pawn
To dip pen in brown
study
To divulge from the bugbears ,boggerlike bumpkins
in the open country..
Neither do a bunk nor curry invectives not to chide
Despots burning oven gripping Alupluto .
In gall he dipped his
bully boyhood pen as bar den brusque sly
chronicled of bitten bullet thus began anew :
Bunkering of net hers
flung open the grey master
’s orchard .
Morning souls hurled into sheol by bandits
To sewer forest compassion .
Cal
lows and canoodle ,carols and epicure unfairly caroused by
cavalry
A thousand broth boys fell in the forest of Alupluto
O casino of death we castrate thee !’’
And the gall in pen hurled out of cavalry
As grim-hack pen hops from trees to trees
In surfeit and satiety had he sighed but shrieking with a
nervous
cough .
To cough and to ensure old monarchy ’s days of yore
Taciturn regained conscience
mower and aptitude mooring
As sheol dances not yet over
Chopping the axe of brawling of mood
With galloping hoofs of buccaneer’s horses strode fretting
to un-soil
They chortled and chuckled to merry theft of great spoil and the
harvest of souls that never return .
Alupluto is a cipher hound of trenches ;who will bail it out
?
To the cavewoman ’s valley , did he trod ;with brown study
greater than
All of Alupluto put together .
There , he hack in the press and grey in the press to exhume
eastern
colors of rainbows ’ rudder to refrain this gale
And enjoin , did it not savor : ‘a thunder damp up mortal
brawn
The mystery bar den
old greybeard clam our not far away .
Craving boyish strength so golden ; for he that sees like
the gods
must battle like the gods’’ .
And clam up to sigh ,
he did not revile , his clannish
mortal tarry pounded
Gongs to cline , froth him not unkempt , but not like the
lappers .
Hopping trees in the siege of the bandits to envelop his
clownish writ for gutter
press .
Recklessness speaks his dialect with the brash tide of
dexterity pulls the
trigger .
Nor does it recline when servitude snaps at dusk and time
recluses for solitude
Unless reconnoiter falls in trenches may not recoil
Quizzes never quiver
this rabidity ;a racket of platitude and avalanche of rhapsody
and chaste twinges not his ramrod
O ye simple revile not his nature ;When ferry of rife
unction’s its billows
And rifts so remorseless s held in rampage .
Paddling through with rigs for mores to doff hats for brown
study
And ripples through the storm do well a roaring trade
Biblio-maniasis went every where n Alupluto and the gale
that went
north went everywhere
Quibble not this ire ;his metaphor speaks not guile of him
No time to dine ,no time to fests and wine for passing man
With a meta-language that an be read not by the simple and
the bold
Behold a seriocomic for the bold and the simple to the home
of honors
O ye simple avoid the reckless !
Like the saints in the confession ,recklessness sings his
songs of freedom
As he grey in the press , he hacks in the press .
Sonorous pen tingles beyond his peers ,brawny and bra shy ,
brassy and crappy , windy and boisterous , foments mortal steam
See , the brat had
courted more laurels than the bold and the simple
More bruises are pearls for glory
Revile not his nature , o ye simple ; bind your wounds with
recklessness
That thou mightest contends
To tame the
dissidents and the impudent for the ounce of
glory .
From the north country into wild life reserves , did he trod , grey-hack pressing
For he , gulled by pogroms would soon be away like the sheep
to the slaughter ,
he go in the whore and comes in the gore .
.
THE BARD OF ALUPLUTO
He comes down the valley and the sky gets
Balmier .
The sea ruptures cramped rocks to shore and
Gets grimier than ever before .
The monsoon is past ebbing and no moist yet
Bug on bugaboo catches common cold and
common crass
Gratifying ego beyond bound and hanging
round the shore
Ascension of grey matter grazes and polishes
Projected gravy train
.
Shallow bud with unwavering brood not as they were
in the common cold and common crass.
Narcissus so its self forsook oracle to turn turtles
Betwixt fallen , betwixt
crimson, betwixt caisson
Alas , he rises to graze the mire
To dabble to venture to darn and swagger by ginger .
Scorning and scolding the whole caboodle and the
Babylon
And the forest
of Alupluto had he not
loved to dwell ?
Yoked with fallen gauntlet ,adumbrated as sated
Metaphors of lethargy pale into repugnance
With bug and bug of treadmill bugaboos
Runs the yonder hills
And gather crest his
savvy horn
His wonder alights in transit where the dark mood and bats have
fled;
What riddles so industrious as the ant and so hideous
as the witch at endor had chockled and fathomed his honed
steel
Where groggy fain is chortled and bayed with bated breath
Grating the aroma of silence .
Twain so easily and go claming around circus that courted
clairvoyance
Like the Parthian shot and the grenades the Bard
drops so easily the grating wheel that sleeping dogs may not lie .
Little strokes fell great oaks and live not to dream
but dream to live
The hungry wolf with the green mood and the eagle
Alights as the old greybeard gets to groove and incenses
See a cast swine before pearls and not so rosy , racing horse
thus began anew;
Garlands never come to bay Where frills and furbelow
In the mettle of orgy Is ride away .
Like a cowboy that Covets the cow catches no
sparkle even at dusk .
The firer on the firing line fires no escape but
clear cut fire away with no alarm to fire .
Gallantry belongs to those with memory of no returns
to the land of no return they go wherein they wish to
sell their souls
Old fussy pot ! old fussy pot !!
Furtively gadding away from dreams and forlorn hope
Never comes to barn door.
Aristomagnetism saves the firer lured from the dunghill
Of grey hack street .
Tame now all the
colors of rainbow with its grappling
hook
Be not a goose boo nor swan geese at gore.
Raise the gorm and the gorge above the Gordian knot.
Like lightning assume steady temperament be light fingered
But not giddy to light off the foxes and the forest torching
the
Temperament according to the lights of wits.
Smashing goofy gorilla hurdles
And the gregarious haunts and chants
That frets varicose veins
in the jungling
and rumblings of
vulgarity
With the grappling hook Of aristo-magnetism
Count on me ! gather muster !
For the coast is
clear and the cast to coast is crystal
Before all grist to the mill.
Spreading the tentacles that will save and many more
Bright jewels that await the gallows and the guillotines.
The morning is fallen and the morning becomes the night
forever
refrain to relinquish sacrilege
The forest is green
O what a pretty salvation from the hook !
Grin and bear it and grime out into new dawn
To hang your tent and lance over this bed
Jockey old horse never
cease to jockey for position
Jung ling away with the fuss and the barbarian’s
For a pound worth of gold.
Never can jockey tossed out many coins at the fret
Of jockey old horse .
And the muster of this hook in coy merry to servile
fain pound worth of gold .
The klaxon as the hooks lay bare their lashes
And taken to the gallows with the last straw
For the undertaker .
See when it is today
and think when it is now
Never do what it is now tomorrow ;
The sightseer may lurk not
forever at thy valley .
Arise ! arise ! and
go ;for the coast is clear
O grey matter , had thou not discern it?
At the fret of Maundy money no more
Read the lectern with
the golden hooks
Behold ,Autophobia
covers raccoon coat
Tarnishing brain racking that spurs the hook to utility
Is a living dead Jones to dead Joneses
Red to no charcoal ?
Worth not even a red
cent, had pounded arts like
ilk’s into gaol .
They dipped the pen in gall and in this ranch gather muster
Cast off the golden stones as if with serial rights of
utter
sedition
And buried in the forgotten sands of history .
Away from the bandwagon and the chants ; Put off the raccoon
frenzy ,the lectern ’s so legible saved from the monster ’.
And the whirlwind Swayed the mettle to stand guard
Wetted and worn out like thrown rags as thrown grenades
uncockles mortal steam
Much said none mended ;Will the cobbler stick to the last ?
Even larger boats venture no more in the stormy seas
THE FLIGHT AND THE GOLDEN
GRENADES
Boyish strength golden
and bubbling a strayed by epicure
Loved to dwell in tinsel.
So fast to loose Wolfhound to voluptuary hung into tinsel
Took to flight
Paces away and fast eroded and quenched by rubicon
Came down crashing halfway home as old woman catching fire
Raises the eyebrow ;
‘Runs like the rebel must be caught like the rebel ,and
caught
like a rebel must be
hung like a rebel .
Arts like vices, vices like arts swoon into ass pirates forever
Into disrepute
And the dance of the primrose is the dance of sheol wherein
sacrilege is summoned
All the scents of Arabian Cannot cure ,take muse ,take muse
!
Wits plead for no bat ’
And thus weary of chaste returns chaste for chaste
Wherein chaste is pounded into ire at the cockling of chaste.
‘Take no offence .See
, an old greybeard returns to the valley
And bid me for a sojourn with the alien ass pirates ;
What is the fate of a Lilliputian ?’
‘May the ass gore swiping with the gory tales at dismast
muster
Never return with the golden bough to the living spring !
The epic is golden make your morning shine and the golden
morn makes the day
Morning never spent well, blossoming with the dew of youth
Returned night well earned
And the night not well frozen at the morn befuddles buzzard
at dusk
And the shadows is golden as the grave
For those who run into fate never run away from fate
That they might run into fate and be hanged by fate.
Then by detest, the
paradise shall be turn into hell
And the grave a living abode and men that never do well never
live well
Behold , he that you have seen
The old greybeard Is the supernatural master
Of the universe
And his fellow brother mangled beaten and massacred
Is taken for a revenge.
He who makes the dead comes out alive is his wonder
And the hook as the golden torch comes easily resurrected
to tame and to adore his
colours of rainbows.
This bard from Alupluto together with his ageless twin
brother
Authored the whole caboodle of nature
And the labyrinth and the gulf widens as the epicure tarnish
their apotheosis
He that is saved by them Is saved by none and he that is
saved
by none Is saved by them
The sands of life are running out Wind out the sagging sail
for
the epic of golden
morn
Remember pass muster vamp up hell and old muggings fret a
mugger’s dawn
Return ye therefore to the ministry and save thy golden heritage
And the sinking ship of thy people ’
Then as she alights
Into nearby cave or hut, the thrown grenades
Fiery as hell were too much to bear .
With unfair steps detached to twain graces out of revels its
love ;
Now with drooping
whetstone wanton to jocund sarcasm
Betwixt crimson with caisson doured and torn by the fury of
vicissitude
The feet of the greyhound Seeks for safety .
Sallow salt of the earth runs out the sands of life .,and
the tinsel town
and the zombies dance away seventh heaven at the sail of the raiders
Will folly overflow its bank ? Or desecrated golden morn ?
No goose is laid that golden egg might be laid .
At the outskirts of the city the young chap resting his low
ebb
After a day ’s job with fair sight and plump passion.
His garlands rests in entreaty to sport fain and merry in the mill.
And again he go to plunge his till rather than painting his
town red
Engrossed the swineherd .
Was confronted by passing stranger , the greyhound plummeted
by
Despair benighted and recounted the narrative
As if tempting lips sought to begrime the fair girth;‘Forty
winks now
no more , there lies the old greybeard Came down from
the forest of
Alupluto Sought my hand in battle .
And suddenly this fiery form no man ever seen and no ever known that no one beffuddles
Exit the vanishing point like the whirlwind,
And the labyrinth and the gulf swamp over bogged mettle
Time untested spring froth unripe
The old melting fire Compounded this gravity hell-bent from
the north to the
south country
Medley froth ‘n’ moles had they trigger along as eternity
wishes
To take the soul for Unfulfilled dream
Who will serve this ministry ? Wherein valiant men had
fallen
Levers I have not and the royal steam far away
The garrison belong to military even the sly as fox is strange away
The raiders had taken the golden heritage
The best of farm field returns and the lab ours of the old
and young
Had gone to the forest gangsters
For appeasement ,for relief ,for sacrifice and for servitude.
How come old Harry taints first blush oil wheels .
Digging into clambake clams and the ire
With tilts woven into clams and clambake ’
Like the old greybeard he did enthuse: Waylaid the clams and the clambake’
The mason forth is frozen into trenches ; Can the mason
castle clean the
Augean stables ?
With no grappling hook as the anchor of the soul; the mason
forth indeed
is frozen into gall
These protrusions are
profound and dipped in tongue of
diversity
Replenished by orgy of grief , but goofed failing to catch
the spook.
The stripling not over swayed Subjugated and swinish
Cast swine aboard: Away! Away !!.ye fugitive in a strange
land
Who has shown thee the way that thou mightest contend ?
What knowest thou that thou mightest struggle
What thou seest not ? ’
See how dull boy fan the ire into netherland and the stitch
at the 11th
hour refuted the salvation train
Here he goes again In the power of the grenades with ego
thrown aboard
Spooky charm never healed ,more than a tile loose tick off
ass.
Haunted by neuter neurosis ; man jack twice beaten forever
shy
AS if machine gun nest dribbles away sought to hide in
tinsel .
The terror never let loose
Only the night but also the grave.
Like a thunderbolt ,Like a lightning strike In the stroke of
the greybeard .
Lilies in the liver liver in the lilies and the greyhound
skeltering
For refuge Is no more caught in the grenades.
And the gulf and the labyrinth swells at the girth of lost
souls .
See a liege man ’s stripe Is worth the tide than the net
hers.
And the breath of the sheol ,a tender bud that strove for
the tide.
Far flung from the swine herd jungle, they laid the ambush .
In the wee hours relish the blood hound and the souls that
never
Returns.
Ten a penny ten a dime
held in thralldom of a dozen dime
And swung into froth they steed .
The tenderfoot and the mightiest trees are fallen .
In the city square tenterhooks arose out of tepidity
And fallen gauntlet
abound and the forest walk –a graveyard away.
The old woman driven tenses hung into ferret came down
Tendering.
Where the grief sallow and the nethers sate dances human
meteor
against the tide
To the swine herd baste did she go to return chaste :The
tidewater is
Raging and like whirlwind
Is everywhere .
The white elephants and the Lydian’s in the jungle grimaces
the land
of Alupluto.
Garrote skulks in the loop , yea the gaping loop and everywhere
with unfair sight feeds
on broken homes .
Gorilla of hurricanes is not farther away ;Will we bury in
the tide ?
And when will the morning come ? Where is the feet of
greyhound ?
Had thou not neglect the travelogue ’s frenzy and the filthy
lucre
-- thy swine delight nor adorn the detest of the oracle ?
That thou be saved with thy mill and paradise May come !
Grist to the mill is as grist to hell and grist to hell in a
broken land
Is broken gouge swept off
to sink from bay at sea .
Behold the daggers drawn , had
the Rome
not set on fire ?
The trickling hell would soon be everywhere .
No one to save no one to live and none to deliver .’
‘Who will save thee thy soul and the nirvana ?
Wherein swineherd lucre prevent thee at thy neighbour
beseeching
Until the nether’s fret balloon .
Pay off within nature ’s old score ;for the gander ’s sauce Is the
goose’ sauce
The golden goose and the golden egg Are no more ………
The road is dicey , the road is dicey, hey … the road so much
unfair is very dicey
Even a close shave never comes to thee , When thou art red to see
Sending into gaol and driven farther away by gall a good Samaritan .
The golden egg and
the golden goose also fell Into tinsel.
Dare turn the table , be not in tenterhooks , away , away,
flee , flee and
never here return
The gander ’s sauce is the goose sauce…..
O thou holy binges indulge not in vain
The grass and the snake flock together
The grass is the snake
and the snake Is the grass ,
The banditry is farther away from the sponge never let go
the muster
and the hell,
Lampooning the old grey beard oracles Ceaselessly won the
rubber ,
And the night terror their vicinage wherein no one returns .
The oracles prowl in
vain Whose villains eye fattens the game
Can you move heaven and earth ?
The Rome
is set on fire ,and the Medes and the Persians are there ,
Their ensigns raised blown top at the city square as naivety beffuddles
terror ,
Held in serfdom never
to abate but the gulf and the rampage .
Men of power cometh but once in a lifetime ;Only to be
forgotten for eternity .
And thereafter men of truth , beaten black red and blue by
the winds.
Turn grey but grim death came out weary only to last forever .
The forest wherein they were hewn and tendered is the legacy
of ageless times .
The shamelessness of a nude statue
and the shallowness of the pan ;
Nor the senselessness of a stone adorn their tent
See little good done in due times Out of no merit save
tomorrow’s
And a stitch at the 11th hour Save all
The golden goose is gone but who Will lay the golden egg ?
For Rome
is set on fire and now who will save Alupluto
from the marauders and
The frenetic rampage? ’.
Now poaching by poohing and
poohing Is gone and sentiment fly no more at
The turning of the turtles .
Pulsing and pulsing ferments With empty purse ,Seems to
grasp all loose all ;
Where great haste to lucre makes great waste and the world
and the
swineherd a villain burden of sheol,
Struck and stuck into
queer street as old woman bade for the cave
The drowned rat now with the rat’s smell hung into quivive
and
great tremolo.
Hardly moved an inch still in quod of the rampage .
May this deign that nature erupts red for flint nimbly as it
were ;
Gins to chide the hazy harp of a defiled moor?
So gross to sink and wooed to blush ,blinding smoke blusters
spark that
fires tremor as demystification doth lend its fury ,
But so soon had this
fallen along over flown by flop ; did he not wiggle?
Even as denigration climbed stealthily into cleft .
Fain heady smithereens rashly and deftly wrinkled .
Seemingly stuck even
as the heathen heed urchins .
Harbor bicker remorseless sobs not at blush .
Alas, the artifice of
the jungle is bungled by the jungle
And the jungled by the bungled; will they clamour ?
But with the blood of the tinsel hails tinsel where many
sell their souls
Where fancy kills and fancy rot tens,
And the grappling hooks long interred In the cemetery that enslaved
Aluplutans
No voice was heard, hardly no moaning and no groaning enterprise.
The shout of terror Ventilates and flexes mangled mood .
Badgering the ire he did not; neither pox on sight his
raving delight
His woman goes to the market ;his man stays at home
What is the problem with Alupluto ? That eye for eye may return
no--eye for eye
As Indian file marches into smother at the expense of no Thames
on fire
The fairer sex art lulled in to hedonism sail under false
colours and
escutcheon
With thrown dust the city groped the dark at the
rapture of
elysian night
The white elephant luxury grotty fain pests grotty foul
Stuck to gully and struck in fie rhythm.
The marauders ’ nest loved to keep and to strengthen the
stranglehold
These breeding trees and the breeding forest had fallen
Alupluto
There the sun had
risen never to rise again at the billow of the pests
And the rhythm.
‘Will they go to Coventry
?’ The old greybeard once enthused .
‘Still then when will the grappling hook return ?’
And white elephant
luxury can then follow lead
To fasten covert
mutiny that works calumny against marauders’ golden night
of villainy .
The greyhound , no more gunned down at its prime ; Whence
cometh the new
dawn ?
Even as the bard of Alupluto took to Salve at the forest of green
mountain
The golden goose never lay the golden egg ,
Hopping the twig when the sun is dawn ;and Herod gully adorns the hoots and the raspberry
Caught in the primrose path froth him not unripe ,but with
no hook sealed the darkest hour .
A sunshine hurl into gorges never comes to summit ,
The bard and the medium and the old woman now barrows the
knightly pun
The messenger of doom –the cave dweller ;
Sent to the Lydian in the jungle that urchins might wobble until the threshing floor lay this egg ,
He by above and prettily
by beneath gins to bulge in the battle of the
bulge ;Wherein
Aluplutans sell their souls,
And bewitched by white elephant hedonism and sinking hook that
widens this gulf from the relief of oracles .
THE JUNGLE OF
ALUPLUTO
In the jungle of Alupluto; there in the jungle
Arose a scintil-abo with a scintal-ados taken not uncommon
To chanted grit neither hung he to tinsel nor to drab .
Given much to ferret than to fret ,creeping in naivety along
with the
knackery of a sentinel
Much fouled sighted than much sighted sawed and malnourished
among the crooked trees of Alupluto whose veins voluptuary
had pounded into gaol
Lively as the cricket and faster than the umpire to the
mystery man in the
jungle did he go.
Engrossed in the liege of
the Bard ;when the sun is down he takes to gauntlet
To unearth the spring of the sepulcher
How dingy duel salted dingy doured
Hardly had he taken the leave of morning sun much ferret than
fret binges into
much fret than ferret
And lo swings and
twinges as the twinkling of wits grimaces swagger through the jungle of Alupluto
Alupluto , Alupluto , Oh…..Alupluto who will save thee from
maurauders’nest
And the bard chronicling
boozed frenzy and turned knackery into steamship
thus it began :
- O morning sun plays the cameo !
- O mores o nearest play the dearest
- That no man be hit when he’ s down
- And not so deaf none so blind
- As those who fail to hear and see
- That bridge should not be damned before it is crossed
- Till no gains be without pains
- And no pain without gain
- That riddles might posed no threat
- For nothing succeed like success
- And nothing fails like failure
- What is today ’s today must be done today
- And today ’s tomorrow must be done today
- For tomorrow’s can only be achieve today
- A foundation when failed becomes a missing link forever
The greyhound played host to this oracle but never taken to
heart
Had he not come to adore this oracle trodding could be
impugned let alone
in the jungle where
many lost their souls
And thus again it
sweetens up to recite :
She is the mother of
invention yet has no law
And come to fill the
vacuum that nature abhors
Where much cry
……………………………….
…………….contd[turn to
Oracles of the Bard of Alupluto].
With one golden pledge that passion pleads did he raise the
steam
In the epic of golden morn .
Laid open to bridle first from the jungle summon of the bard –the mystery man living
Wherein wooed into serfdom is wooed into knackery for the
epic morn.
Passing the swine herd and the cave dweller headed the green
mountain
The voice of the cricket and the screeching of the owl put horror into grooves as tremor
Enveloped the forest swagger
Passing the night was a wonderment whose leash
straining steamrollers hip and stoutheartedness is nothing but a groundswell of the aristomagnetic and
the golden hooks eager beaver which was buried by the greyhound at the cemetery
.
The bard passing off from summerhouse spotted the little bloke
before the sunset and did he not call
him to order in the wild wild jungle :
THE BARBARIANS IN
THE JUNGLE
Thy manhood shall tell thee when thou shall quit
Turning off the orgy of ignition calling balm from the sea
When thou canst find them .
And they that feel by thee shall come none nigh thee.
Plead the wits o man
In this vertigo and
orgy embedded in a strange land
Where many sell their souls
Long after they are
gone will they not be lived
behind ?
Flesh for flesh flesh against flesh
And then shall thou clique to their bosom
O you knave !
When will thou whittle and winnow the voluptuous deign of
wanderlust ?
And wince away woolgathering
Time tested yang froth thee not unripe
And lo, thou say ‘yelp ’ and then yank to wrangle no more
The bombastic leap of
a yahoo gambol
Behold arts that were without vision
Ended without mission and a mirage before times
Being fraught to judge when cast overboard judge thee foul
And morning and weeping grow only to themselves
When arts and mission are
distant cousins apart and alien
To the sacrosanct of the mile
Yet with one more mile thou didst refuse to go
Get stuck to wiles
and witty gazeth not thee in vain
Not so light to love nor be strange to adorn swelling
That thou be not preen to voluptuary ----------contd
Tick away not thy self tick away not thy time and prime
Fingers caught in the till mend fences soonest
Make haste ; a great tide is flown over the valley and the
forest
A bizarre wigging at foxes to dwell ’’
But who will swim the
tide above the ridden tiger ?
It was a cliffhanger borne from a tinge into tingle
Hardly a tickled pink but whacked and trammeled the voluble
And a concise did he not muster:
With wanton tramps budding bones and gathering rosebuds had
trampled
The trellis and treasure trove of a golden morn
Ages and tidal swept over earth unsullied by velvety
Until the dying sun sets in and the venture had no censure
against the
undercurrents
Will they now launch
tail wagging and wiggings at dusk ?
And trump up brainwashing against the unwieldy wildcats
and the
whore houses that moorings may boon
Whose flings the golden morn had fret and the clamor for
their clangor to
be heard.
Cease the lupine thrust ;where no desert is found calling
for the lullaby frets
in vain.
Garrote skulks in the loop
kinks and kimbos frays the beaming kirtle
Caught in suspense and pun-droned revile in return :
‘Thou sleepest none sleepest foul sleepest well
Are burning gallows lutarious ?
Where foul begins and vices foments ,there forever it ends
And there forever it returns to cascade the downpour once
reviled .
Spreading the moisture once impugned by common crass and
common cold ’
Drizzling pun into wormwood and wormwood into pun yalked into
lumber
He clasped to chaste
by boomerang the luster is lull-fallen .
Has the grating grill being over ? The chaste had become
baste and baste had become chaste
And vertigo did wield nature to master this mace swelling
tumulus over the mantle of lung power .
The champagne is half-quenched and the cleavages of a
crumpet caressed with
giddying tremor .
Winebibbing and overwhelmed by intermittent snogs so
engrossed and deemed as
paradise moisture .
To sink the scum of the earth and scummer ’s intemperate
claws torn between
Scylla and charybdis.
With ship lost at sea hell in a jiffy and coal scuttling
swim the tide away but the tramp ’s
Vagrancy and Wallow trenches regain rhythm
‘ Honey had we not play this greybeard foul ;so seek to fain
to blow him dry ?
Hung in tremor to empty passion and unfair lips closed upon
fair lips
To jolly and to fun pure same flowers where pure same wrath
flocks underground
And still we wink to keep the revels blotted by escutcheon
;Where steam is hell
and hell is steam .
Leaden not thy fox to loop this grouch and the trenches
fallen ;where guard is fare
to foul ’’
Epicure is the lord
at Alupluto and hangs no more but forever .
Long bridle plays not sport for the fairer sex and time not
advantage and pretty
refutes entreaty .
Summon fairer sex into old stints ,tempting lips let it not
sway thee .
And for gaping loop spread not thy bosom ;let them rejoice
until sweet cunt merry
Hangs at menopause albeit a fleeting passage .
Thine eyes shall not be grey ;let it luster in the lilies
and never toy to leaden appetite
And sworn to arts never to blab piety lest you forget
ephemeral gaunt of epicure.
That long passage have to offer for the transient gourmand
,not enough to empty
Devilish passion
Rally around epicure o fairer sex before the great summons
into old stints .
All the colours of rainbows being so fair to beauty and so
dainty jewels to wear
Fain mine eyes beyond
the gaping loop and the colour blue moons .
And so are all men alike ;never frosty a sex life until dusk
and even then still
Apt to toy ,apt to darn and to jest and to merry tramps and
the flowers of eve
For the long passage
Whose dour piety and martyrdom did revile as the sacrilege of sainthood and
the fury of hell
Haunted in flurry and flustered into life gaol that moorings
may boom piety
flowers of eve benumbed for all time .
O ye tramps sing not the carol when it is sung and the sun
shines and fallen on thy earth
Neither muse the ally
to sojourn thy gyrate nor bridle dare to censure .
Sharp by steam and hot as foundry though sandy by hurdles to
trod
And hover on the landmine of indulgence where ephemeral
beckons thee .
And Lo amidst hues and cry
vapour away factory fodders to rollick the junkets and the whore
princesses
