July 27, 2012. Cafe Zen, Amsterdam. (Watching the early opening ceremony of the London 2012 Olympic Games on T.V, which was in fact the Beijing Games on replay)
How to compare the Occident and Orient in 2012? just look at the stylistic features and sources of inspiration for their respective Olympic openiong ceremony. One rooted in many thousand year old traditional arts and crafts that reflect the natural world, the other somewhat recent fictional characters from the world of make believe, television and film, the projection of recent popular mythology. Both have merits and points of criticism.
FEEDBACK!
Ideographic dance,
synchronized floor painting,
atop huge scroll
projection onto surface,
trad. Oriental instruments
strings lift canvas into air,
camera flashes, red glow.
Billions of body mind eye systems
synchronize, remotely.
People emerge, like seeds
from center flower in silver glowing suits
red, blue, and little white lights
glow in crowd.
Tai Chi and Kung Fu in stone henge
collection of monoliths,
more light fantastic projections,
nothing on seeper. Water projections, waterfalls
but no water!
imitation of school art square
all within the scroll
large multi colored
Crayola type brushes in hands of
children, surrounded by perhaps
thousansands of Tai Chi, kung Fu
practitioners. Amber lights,
paint brushes dayglo in back sacks
Large Trad. Chinese landscape
painting rises into the air.
Space-man suspended on chords, now the
space theme, some
men in a pentagon stance atop a sphere, now earth
and stars, fireworks shoot miles into the London night sky. Projected out of the sphere
some Escheresque--concentric circles--10 tracks, opposite directions,
giant whales swim around stadium pano while
duo of singers,
fireworks all over London and Beijing
smudge a red hue. Faces projected around stadium.
Olympic flames enter stadium
surrounded by nations flags blowing in wind,
passing the fire
a
Chinese man lifts into the air, his
torch almost going out, gasping for air, then he is
lifted onto the panorama rim of the stadium,
running in slow motion under spotlight,
behind him the scroll unravels
classic sport footage. He runs the whole stadium and lights up the fuse,
massive flames flare up
(I get the feeling of old Greek Olympics)
more fireworks
pop off up the river Thames for many miles, it seems.
Footage of Beijing Olympics?, oh yes. Anomalous incidents
and crashes, falls, slips, balls in the face, arse in the face,
great rallies, exceptional performances
and near death and very dangerous looking images of sport, memorable due to great
stupidity and great genius mixed.
I missed the rest of the ceremony, thankfully, my first impressions kept a positive note, i thought. --Steve fly
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Approx 9 Billion Pounds
With 4 billion viewers the stakes
are high nations going
for gold Athletes on the brink of red out
Greenland ice sheet melts when the stadium
lights turn on
UK icons mashed up like a Christmas
variety performance, Harry Potter Prince
William, Mary Poppins Ms
Obama, Willy Blake Orwell
already well represented
Thanks to my coach,
to my my family and pastor
sponsor...
how about surprises from
sportspeople?
Thanks to my pet goat
my shoes and breakfast
Thanks to my pet goat
my shoes and breakfast
Do you eat at Mcdonalds drink coca-cola,
invest in B.P? any comment
about these entities?
how about three ways
to better the world?
what you saying with rag-flag?
Gonzo rock drill marrow!
Javelin of truth strikes the
reff.
to better the world?
what you saying with rag-flag?
Gonzo rock drill marrow!
Javelin of truth strikes the
reff.
the total carbon footprint
of the games vs. the potential total amount
of sports facilities that cd/ be built worldwide
using PUBLIC game-funds
(approx. 9 Billion?)
of the games vs. the potential total amount
of sports facilities that cd/ be built worldwide
using PUBLIC game-funds
(approx. 9 Billion?)
ever thought of sport?
--fly
--fly
W is for Wrestling
W is for Wrestling
body nestling spoon grabs
toss turn pull up, tight
shorts
--fly
Wrestling is a form of combat sport involving grappling type techniques such as clinch fighting, throws and takedowns, joint locks, pins and other grappling holds. A wrestling bout is a physical competition, between two (occasionally more) competitors or sparring partners, who attempt to gain and maintain a superior position. There are a wide range of styles with varying rules with both traditional historic and modern styles. Wrestling techniques have been incorporated into other martial arts as well as military hand-to-hand combat systems. --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wrestling
body nestling spoon grabs
toss turn pull up, tight
shorts
--fly
Wrestling is a form of combat sport involving grappling type techniques such as clinch fighting, throws and takedowns, joint locks, pins and other grappling holds. A wrestling bout is a physical competition, between two (occasionally more) competitors or sparring partners, who attempt to gain and maintain a superior position. There are a wide range of styles with varying rules with both traditional historic and modern styles. Wrestling techniques have been incorporated into other martial arts as well as military hand-to-hand combat systems. --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wrestling
V is for Volleyball
V is for Volley ball
leaping to strike the ball
with hand, slap down
--fly
Volleyball is a team sport in which two teams of six players are separated by a net. Each team tries to score points by grounding a ball on the other team's court under organized rules.[1] It has been a part of the official program of the Summer Olympic Games since 1964. It is also the national Sport of Sri Lanka. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volleyball
leaping to strike the ball
with hand, slap down
--fly
Volleyball is a team sport in which two teams of six players are separated by a net. Each team tries to score points by grounding a ball on the other team's court under organized rules.[1] It has been a part of the official program of the Summer Olympic Games since 1964. It is also the national Sport of Sri Lanka. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volleyball
U is for Unidentified Fly Olympic
Aha,
U again, writing and making
jokes of sport, u contradict
--fly
U again, writing and making
jokes of sport, u contradict
--fly
TTT is for Taekwondo Trampoline Tennis
TTT is for Taekwondo
Trampoline Tennis,
give it a go
--fly
Trampolining is a competitive Olympic sport in which gymnasts perform acrobatics while bouncing on a trampoline.[1] These can include simple jumps in the pike, tuck or straddle position to more complex combinations of forward or backward somersaults and twists.
There are three related competitive rebound sports, synchronized trampoline, tumbling (or power tumbling) and double mini-trampoline. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trampolining
Taekwondo (태권도; 跆拳道; Korean pronunciation: [tʰɛk͈wʌndo]; /taɪ.kwɒn.doʊ/) is a Korean martial art and the national sport of South Korea. In Korean, tae (태, 跆) means "to strike or break with foot"; kwon (권, 拳) means "to strike or break with fist"; and do (도, 道) means "way", "method", or "path". Thus, taekwondo may be loosely translated as "the way of the hand and the foot."[1] The name taekwondo is also written as taekwon-do, tae kwon-do, or tae kwon do by various organizations, based on historical, philosophical, or political[citation needed] reasons. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taekwondo
Tennis is a sport usually played between two players (singles) or between two teams of two players each (doubles). Each player uses a racket that is strung to strike a hollow rubber ball covered with felt over a net into the opponent's court. The object of the game is to play the ball in such a way that the opponent is not able to play a good return.[1] Tennis is an Olympic sport and is played at all levels of society at all ages. The sport can be played by anyone who can hold a racket, including people in wheelchairs.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tennis
Trampoline Tennis,
give it a go
--fly
Trampolining is a competitive Olympic sport in which gymnasts perform acrobatics while bouncing on a trampoline.[1] These can include simple jumps in the pike, tuck or straddle position to more complex combinations of forward or backward somersaults and twists.
There are three related competitive rebound sports, synchronized trampoline, tumbling (or power tumbling) and double mini-trampoline. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trampolining
Taekwondo (태권도; 跆拳道; Korean pronunciation: [tʰɛk͈wʌndo]; /taɪ.kwɒn.doʊ/) is a Korean martial art and the national sport of South Korea. In Korean, tae (태, 跆) means "to strike or break with foot"; kwon (권, 拳) means "to strike or break with fist"; and do (도, 道) means "way", "method", or "path". Thus, taekwondo may be loosely translated as "the way of the hand and the foot."[1] The name taekwondo is also written as taekwon-do, tae kwon-do, or tae kwon do by various organizations, based on historical, philosophical, or political[citation needed] reasons. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taekwondo
Tennis is a sport usually played between two players (singles) or between two teams of two players each (doubles). Each player uses a racket that is strung to strike a hollow rubber ball covered with felt over a net into the opponent's court. The object of the game is to play the ball in such a way that the opponent is not able to play a good return.[1] Tennis is an Olympic sport and is played at all levels of society at all ages. The sport can be played by anyone who can hold a racket, including people in wheelchairs.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tennis
T is for Turntable-Tennis
T is for Turntable Tennis
bats balls beats and the net
spinning skill
--fly
Some turntablist DJs use turntable techniques like beat mixing/matching, scratching, and beat juggling. Some turntablists seek to have themselves recognized as traditional musicians capable of interacting and improvising with other performers. --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turntablism
Table tennis, also known as ping-pong, is a sport in which two or four players hit a lightweight, hollow ball back and forth using table tennis rackets. The game takes place on a hard table divided by a net. Except for the initial serve, players must allow a ball played toward them only one bounce on their side of the table and must return it so that it bounces on the opposite side. Points are scored when a player fails to return the ball within the rules. Play is fast and demands quick reactions. A skilled player can impart several varieties of spin to the ball, altering its trajectory and limiting an opponent's options to great advantage.-- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Table_tennis
bats balls beats and the net
spinning skill
--fly
Some turntablist DJs use turntable techniques like beat mixing/matching, scratching, and beat juggling. Some turntablists seek to have themselves recognized as traditional musicians capable of interacting and improvising with other performers. --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turntablism
Table tennis, also known as ping-pong, is a sport in which two or four players hit a lightweight, hollow ball back and forth using table tennis rackets. The game takes place on a hard table divided by a net. Except for the initial serve, players must allow a ball played toward them only one bounce on their side of the table and must return it so that it bounces on the opposite side. Points are scored when a player fails to return the ball within the rules. Play is fast and demands quick reactions. A skilled player can impart several varieties of spin to the ball, altering its trajectory and limiting an opponent's options to great advantage.-- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Table_tennis
S is for Swim-Shooting
S is for Swimshooting
400 meters freestyle
harpoon gold-fish
--fly
A shooting sport is a competitive sport involving tests of proficiency (accuracy and speed) using various types of guns such as firearms and airguns (see archery for more information on shooting sports that make use of bows and arrows). Hunting is also a shooting sport, and indeed shooting live pigeons was an Olympic event (albeit only once, in 1900). The shooting sports are categorized by the type of firearm or target used. --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shooting_sport
FINA currently recognises world records in the following events for both men and women.[9]
400 meters freestyle
harpoon gold-fish
--fly
A shooting sport is a competitive sport involving tests of proficiency (accuracy and speed) using various types of guns such as firearms and airguns (see archery for more information on shooting sports that make use of bows and arrows). Hunting is also a shooting sport, and indeed shooting live pigeons was an Olympic event (albeit only once, in 1900). The shooting sports are categorized by the type of firearm or target used. --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shooting_sport
FINA currently recognises world records in the following events for both men and women.[9]
- Freestyle: 50 m, 100 m, 200 m, 400 m, 800 m, 1500 m
- Backstroke: 50 m, 100 m, 200 m
- Breaststroke: 50 m, 100 m, 200 m
- Butterfly: 50 m, 100 m, 200 m
- Individual medley: 100 m (short course only), 200 m, 400 m
- Relays: 4×100 m freestyle, 4×200 m freestyle, 4×100 m medley
- --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swimming_%28sport%29#Records
R is for Rowing
R is for Rowing
Oar'scrossed boats running rivers
push pull cash force flow?
--fly
Oar'scrossed boats running rivers
push pull cash force flow?
--fly
Rowing is a sport in which athletes race against each other on rivers, on lakes or on the ocean, depending upon the type of race and the discipline. The boats are propelled by the reaction forces on the oar blades as they are pushed against the water. The sport can be both recreational, focusing on learning the techniques required,[1] and competitive where overall fitness plays a large role. It is also one of the oldest Olympic sports. In the United States, high school and collegiate rowing is sometimes referred to as crew.[2] -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rowing_%28sport%29
Monday, July 16, 2012
G is for GYMNASTY
G is for Gymnastics
Flexi people dance
high up a banker swings
--Fly
Gymnastics is a sport involving the performance of exercises requiring physical strength, flexibility, agility, coordination, and balance. Internationally, all of the gymnastic sports are governed by the Fédération Internationale de Gymnastique (FIG). Each country has its own national governing body affiliated to FIG. Competitive Artistic gymnastics is the best known of the gymnastic sports. It typically involves the women's events of uneven bars, balance beam, floor exercise, and vault. Men's events are floor exercise, pommel horse, still rings, vault, parallel bars, and high bar. Gymnastics evolved from exercises used by the ancient Greeks, that included skills for mounting and dismounting a horse, and from circus performance skills. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gymnastics
Flexi people dance
high up a banker swings
--Fly
Gymnastics is a sport involving the performance of exercises requiring physical strength, flexibility, agility, coordination, and balance. Internationally, all of the gymnastic sports are governed by the Fédération Internationale de Gymnastique (FIG). Each country has its own national governing body affiliated to FIG. Competitive Artistic gymnastics is the best known of the gymnastic sports. It typically involves the women's events of uneven bars, balance beam, floor exercise, and vault. Men's events are floor exercise, pommel horse, still rings, vault, parallel bars, and high bar. Gymnastics evolved from exercises used by the ancient Greeks, that included skills for mounting and dismounting a horse, and from circus performance skills. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gymnastics
F is for FENCING
F is for FENCING
Swords drawn in air
knife blade voice
tea caligraphy?
--Fly
Fencing, which is also known as olympic fencing to distinguish it from historical fencing,[1] is a family of combat sports using bladed weapons. It is usually practised with the help of a sword or mini-blade. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fencing
Swords drawn in air
knife blade voice
tea caligraphy?
--Fly
Fencing, which is also known as olympic fencing to distinguish it from historical fencing,[1] is a family of combat sports using bladed weapons. It is usually practised with the help of a sword or mini-blade. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fencing
E is for EQUESTRIANISM
E is for EQUEST...
Horses for courses
vaulting canter for
cantos
--fly
Equestrianism (from Latin equester, equestr-, horseman, horse)[1] more often known as riding, horseback riding (American English) or horse riding (British English)[2] refers to the skill of riding, driving, steeplechasing or vaulting with horses. This broad description includes the use of horses for practical working purposes, transportation, recreational activities, artistic or cultural exercises, and competitive sport. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Equestrianism
Jumping on horses twisting gymnast on live specimen neigh. --fly
Horses for courses
vaulting canter for
cantos
--fly
Equestrianism (from Latin equester, equestr-, horseman, horse)[1] more often known as riding, horseback riding (American English) or horse riding (British English)[2] refers to the skill of riding, driving, steeplechasing or vaulting with horses. This broad description includes the use of horses for practical working purposes, transportation, recreational activities, artistic or cultural exercises, and competitive sport. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Equestrianism
Jumping on horses twisting gymnast on live specimen neigh. --fly
D is for DIVING
D is for Diving
tripple summer salt water
splash
no frogs in sight
--fly
I say bring back the highest dive contest!
Diving is the sport of jumping or falling into water from a platform or springboard, sometimes while performing acrobatics. Diving is an internationally-recognized sport that is part of the Olympic Games. In addition, unstructured and non-competitive diving is a recreational pastime.
Diving is one of the most popular Olympic sports with spectators. Competitors possess many of the same characteristics as gymnasts and dancers, including strength, flexibility, kinaesthetic judgment and air awareness. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diving
tripple summer salt water
splash
no frogs in sight
--fly
I say bring back the highest dive contest!
Diving is the sport of jumping or falling into water from a platform or springboard, sometimes while performing acrobatics. Diving is an internationally-recognized sport that is part of the Olympic Games. In addition, unstructured and non-competitive diving is a recreational pastime.
Diving is one of the most popular Olympic sports with spectators. Competitors possess many of the same characteristics as gymnasts and dancers, including strength, flexibility, kinaesthetic judgment and air awareness. -- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diving
C is for CYCLING
C is for Cycling
look no fumes just sweat
no carbon footprints
transport
--Fly
Cycling is a very efficient and effective mode of transportation[5] optimal for short to moderate distances. Bicycles provide numerous benefits compared to motor vehicles, including exercise, an alternative to the use of fossil fuels, no air or noise pollution, much reduced traffic congestion, easier parking, greater maneuverability, and access to both roads and paths. The advantages are at less financial cost to the user as well as society (negligible damage to roads, and less pavement required).[6] Criticisms and disadvantages of cycling include reduced protection in crashes, particularly with motor vehicles,[7] longer travel time (except in densely populated areas), vulnerability to weather conditions, difficulty in transporting passengers, and the skill and fitness required.-- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cycling
look no fumes just sweat
no carbon footprints
transport
--Fly
Cycling is a very efficient and effective mode of transportation[5] optimal for short to moderate distances. Bicycles provide numerous benefits compared to motor vehicles, including exercise, an alternative to the use of fossil fuels, no air or noise pollution, much reduced traffic congestion, easier parking, greater maneuverability, and access to both roads and paths. The advantages are at less financial cost to the user as well as society (negligible damage to roads, and less pavement required).[6] Criticisms and disadvantages of cycling include reduced protection in crashes, particularly with motor vehicles,[7] longer travel time (except in densely populated areas), vulnerability to weather conditions, difficulty in transporting passengers, and the skill and fitness required.-- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cycling
B is for BADMINTON
B is for Badminton
shuttle cock flying cone
jump net flip of wrist
court
--Fly
The shuttlecock (or shuttle) is a feathered projectile whose unique aerodynamic properties cause it to fly differently than the balls used in most racquet sports; in particular, the feathers create much higher drag, causing the shuttlecock to decelerate more rapidly than a ball. Shuttlecocks have a much higher top speed, when compared to other racquet sports. Because shuttlecock flight is affected by wind, competitive badminton is played indoors. Badminton is also played outdoors as a casual recreational activity, often as a garden or beach game.--http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Badminton
shuttle cock flying cone
jump net flip of wrist
court
--Fly
The shuttlecock (or shuttle) is a feathered projectile whose unique aerodynamic properties cause it to fly differently than the balls used in most racquet sports; in particular, the feathers create much higher drag, causing the shuttlecock to decelerate more rapidly than a ball. Shuttlecocks have a much higher top speed, when compared to other racquet sports. Because shuttlecock flight is affected by wind, competitive badminton is played indoors. Badminton is also played outdoors as a casual recreational activity, often as a garden or beach game.--http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Badminton
A is for ARCHERY
A is for ARCHERY
Bullseye, wink. steady eye
to hand to bowrows wind?
--Fly
"Archery is the art, practice, or skill of propelling arrows with the use of a bow, from Latin arcus. Historically, archery has been used for hunting and combat, while in modern times, its main use is that of a recreational activity. A person who participates in archery is typically known as an "archer" or "bowman", and one who is fond of or an expert at archery can be referred to as a "toxophilite".-- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archery
Bullseye, wink. steady eye
to hand to bowrows wind?
--Fly
"Archery is the art, practice, or skill of propelling arrows with the use of a bow, from Latin arcus. Historically, archery has been used for hunting and combat, while in modern times, its main use is that of a recreational activity. A person who participates in archery is typically known as an "archer" or "bowman", and one who is fond of or an expert at archery can be referred to as a "toxophilite".-- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archery
Thursday, July 8, 2010
2010 words on the Gulf Oil Spill (edited from a previous poem)
“Us clams must stick apart” –Feudal Baron Periwinkle III.
Aphrodite rose from sea foam in film.
A centrifugal waterspout, sucking out the poison.
A Shell and a Sunflower are branded,
Sucked of meaning.
Twisted arms of godsoilmen
Workers, investers, safety chiefs,
Some work with sludge in hands
Some on the tongue, others dodge
Regulators.
Meet the supermajors
Finance and business from sifting Oil
Gulf scoop past oily Slick Cheney
Eating Warburtons with Shell fish
We roe past energy task force positions.
In still of night, calm waters, we release
The mycelium.
From the world Clam.
The Galloping Scallop clad man of greek myth come up
Knights of the Periwinkle clown swimming,
Bejewelled with clam lips and kisses.
Rich blue Oil spill or mother of pearl?
Like blended parrots and dead plankton,
Mixed emulsions. Beautiful Miss Oil Spill?
How can I find beauty in this Oil terror? I tried
And reality slapped me across the Horizon
Crude awakening to the spill-age.
A Collosal squid princess come's up
Riding old Jakobsschelp, a Mycelium Goddess
To help a Hutch load of old scallops rise out
The Seafloor Blues
And infiltrate the slick.
The Deep sea Mollusc speak out:
“Lo! Scallops of the ocean,
Down by the great rising Chiefs of coral.
Take this Big Periwinkle into your earshel and Smell the sign
Touch the logo and ask:
How many ridges does a dream have?
Who regulates the regulator’s.
Dead Plankton in the paint
And the city sewers flowoil
Heed the clam of commerce and the
Cockle-shock shimmy of stock.
What sea-shell, what Sunflower?
Up comes a horse covered in Scallops,
Prince Periwinkle gargling:
“Skullops for one shelling a dollop”
Sea wave-wind Mussels flex into fossils.
The smell of oilamp from the limpet.
“Lets Oil the Oystery of Oil and stir with a staff,
Lets foil sharks with electric shocks,
Struck coil!”.
“Swim with the titanic Semantic shift,
Up out the shell flower.
Again, to tell a snail tale of the planetary shaft.
Rock Drill. Oil Men. Usury. Greed.
Son’s of Thunder Juice, Snel, quick up
To defend the word.
A sea slug with untold feet runs with you
On a hyperbolic plane.
Hoily Tools of the Big Petrol scoop
Walloping the marine scene with oil sheen.
Another spellage. Ocean deep n' blue and
Black rusty red, bloody.
Petrochem generation X. Drill here.
Die here. Who makes the plans, the cuts,
The safety checks, who sets the profits,
Who banks in the cayman Islands, and
Exploits every loop-hole, who, now who.
So wee rise up like foam,
Mycelium to eat the Oil
My thoughts on it: I ride a bike.
Waxy Parrot Snot in the sea bank
How to dress up a death spill?
Casting Shells from my hand,
The wavy lines trace a swellmighty calm.
His Holiness the Buddhaclam Caliph of Pearl
Comes up, out of the Santiago Shell mound gate
To tell us of what fate?
Great clam emperor of the
Mollusca lineage comes up
“By nature the sign, 500 Million years of geometry spun
Into this Sunflower, into this Shell. What lies?”
The Duke Periwinkle of Clam tissue
And the Ivory Sheen realm
Comes up
“Look down the well. Oily DEA and ivory salt newspaper
Scalping truth, their lies litter our vessel,
Truth and beauty from underwater vents”
Meanwhile oilmen pollute the ocean-Green with
Sculpted Pipe lines, crime lines, below
Waves of DEA projects, No Oildea how sticky
the handshell shakes over the Sunflower.
Ode to the Great Old One's,
Please hear us and help a sign-sailor resist
A super-major temptress,
Ocean blackmail.
Oil spill, pipe-line, spoil, Usury, coercion,
Interference with natural deep sea black smokers
Oyster Gods of ancient oceans sculpt the wave
And weave pearls
Serpents teeth sew
Sew Sew an oil net to stop the leak.
A solution in the name of thy snakeoil potion,
Rise up Sea-meat wonders with one hundred eyes
You that dwell upon Old heraldic shields,
Rise up like bubbles and show us your shape.
If only Molluscs could grow wings?
Dutch English American Oil statistics?
More scallops?
Now our chariot of sea gods roam the ocean wide
With the Sigil of Galloping Periwinkles,
Sea weed tales of a great green whale and
A clam with hinged jaws.
Big Blood and looting operation disaster
After disaster, after disaster.
We charge the water and turn the planet
Back into a healthy paradise,
In this poem.
Our Seal: Coningklick.
We raise a toast to Scallops and the food of Godzilla,
And celebrate the marvel of Clam propulsion.
Bio-technology is trying to show us HOW.
Venusa comes up
Surfing on a scallop, leading with a shell in hat
And staff in hand.
Ms. C. Scholar and her mussel
Swimming down Saint James's glory-gate to
Oil Cow & coo
“Now Scoop it. What News Independence.
Who distributes it, how?
And the church wants TTOTTAL Informollusc awaveness.
Sculpt a skull and crossbones in the Crude
Awakening to sea Pirates.
Send in Jack Sparrow to help waterworld.”
Cockoily and Crude Millions scalloped out
Of the earth's body PO.
To the Botticelli Shell-mex
Mix of Soupermajor Bumbling Patroilmen.
Heart of calcite, home of crystal, listen,
I Toil to swim with the Amateur Swimming Association
Esso sponsored swimming, like
Greenpeace sponsored Oil Drilling.
Pick a Shell and drink our James Juice.
The word can plug that sucker up.
The word, the vessel of communication.
The sacred periwinkle proportion.
Now sea gold and Periwinkle Cockle
And aragonite Shillyshellying,
On land we're all out of gas?
Crashing oil and Blood in synchronous waves,
Half-mollusc, half man with vulva comes up,
The crowned Cuthulu cult riding a clam to shore,
To soil on past British Patrolingmen.
We and the sea leagues of 93’000 species
Of Mollusc, and cuttlefish, calcium from sea foam
We are the froth of Saint James Juice.
We lament the spill to blunt the drill,
Gather and think to cap and fill.
Rock Drill and Throne.
HOLY Scollop of truth Swim on your way!
Scooping the word and sludge, selling lies.
How deep does the drill hole go?
Blue Black pills sp'ills?
Up comes the Count of cockles
To calculate fossil fuel foolishness.
Re-shore em’ that Oystery contains Pearls.
History is ours, oceanic.
Hollow Earth Krewe come up to protect the crust.
Don't drill, hear!
Listen, HEMP!
Pull down thy vanity,
Pull up thy drill rig.
The silver pink flesh of salmon
Emerald sea weed and Electric blue
Dance on our Shield.
What pearls lie in the sign?
Schaaldrake Unreeled from the Well,
The conscious net.
The day of the Dolphin Gulf prayer,
calling all Oystery’s hero’s.
Winds blow above the abyss of humanity
Deep space
Mind link sleeping beauty on the sea bed.
Awake.
A clamber of underwater shimmers
“What the devil’s covering you, old directors?”
Holy floor, must be peak oil time!
Fisherman on fire, Oil brigade, fire brigade
What Sustenance?
Entangled oil pipline artery of earth rot?
Well well well, Oil be damned!
The dead seamen-oil-blood transfusion.
The workers that died, the injured?
Investigative poetry safety bill,
The profit margin and depths of energy mob
Investment.
The TAX dodge.
The Tectonic shifts and shafts of geopolitics.
The ocean gods versus the greedy monkey man.
Swallow the shilly-shally sea
And go a’ rummaging
Through tears,
Craft a dam good idea.
Boom, boundary and boundary dissolution
Be A solution
The ocean, the salt.
Oil and sea water mixed.
A mussel bound with a wisdom tongue in a Dutch
Pit, Venus in shell, A tongue enters shell.
That feminine Scallop.
Yes, make love, and drill for love
In a land bed, not a sea bed,
Drilling for oil, making death.
Beware the starfish and oystercatchers
The Condi Rice tankers,
Our boat enters the earshells of Leviathon.
Invisible on a mind wave,
Seers are feeding,
We meditate on bivalvia underground chants
We grow new ears from our Gulf of tears.
Total germs and a fake Sunflower
A suspect Shell and five sided fuel mob are
Apprehended by Sea worms.
Please dive off the Euro board, twist and tuck pike
Summersault in James Juice.
Send word, make merry love.
Hoily Houses Haunt the Oystery sauce.
The currents of Oysery in the Musselmen’s mind.
How to Oil the machine and then stir, sir?
Who distributes it, how?
Scallop filtration of nature’s Mouth pit.
The Dogon Dragon’s of ocean deep
Breathing black smoke
The mouth to hell.
Up comes,
Hermaphrodite of the black-gold waters.
Global eyes of the oceanic gleam
Where Ibskal speak of sea diamonds, pearls
Nommo booty.
Do not disturb the Calm mud.
Look Deep, look well , Deeper.
Lick the James Juice-oil, drink the poison
And ride the snake to the pit of Saint DEA,
Eat them all, spit fire and burn off.
To planet Exo-Clamboil.
Go drill land if you must drill.
Elders send word of Hopi,
Inducing Amanita Mollusca.
Sometides wash nutrients up Ripples of the great
Allrudy wish-ways, ripples and
Baron periwinkles dimples.
Smiles.
Chevrollop, clamswallop, wham, Bully Peakoil
Big Shh’ galaxy, in silence.
Sit ans send ‘word’ shaman styles.
Get roots, touch and ingest earth.
And inside the noble clam chamber
Mr. Mussel finds shelter from transfusions
And Cockledoom on a dinner plate. He says:
“Oh shil, you supermajor logo shystirs.
Rumble of waves around scalloped edge
Where Venus teleports - to visit ecstatic ten-thousand
Million hundred gallons.
And Brand new standards, drink the ocean ink
Of clam soup, Ingest the Hoily Ocean Extracts
Spit fire and burn of excess Vapourdiz
Wade through the bauxite,
Don’t step on our eggshares
Show foresight. Transparent business
Transparent waters, in soiled by fuel addiction.
Juice the wellwell markets, be merry,
Ppeak into these eggshawls. Schelp,
I need some clammy mammy?
Muscle and sperm of capitol, testoss and hydrocarbons,
Spilling on land, sea and air. Who’s share
Who...and how?
Thankyou, the pearls really shine.
500 Million years of Scallop evolution
Sculpted from chalk with tyme.
Real Crotch Oil spread and royal flush
Roe Smoothie ripple?
The synchro-swimming around,
Mixing a schaal Pink into the rusty current.
Shellfish swim for Global ecosystem
And it’s edges.
Interconnected, balanced, shared biological systems
Ecological logic and example, begging to be copied
By Human industry, ECOnomic.
The taste and the Zap,
Filtering compost on a sea-bed,
The underwater awakening like Fungus,
The Clam infiltrates the swill.
To Clam the cap, and Clam the leak.
Shell shaped filler, nature’s way has your answer
Physics of plugging.
Heaven and Hell,
The birth canal off Lucifer von Periwinkle and his
Turned Kingdom of Oilmen! Lo,
The Darth Vader, using modern technology:
The force,
To extract fuel from our mothers vitalorgans
The chatter and Swell at the centre of the Earth.
The Venus Princess and the Vulva of life,
New birth.
Up against the rig,
Marian’s well like a Mermaid's pool
Moist and as a peachy love nest.
Master of devices and of painted Green weeds.
Help us Grow. Overcome Oils vices.
A Pilgrim Artefact slyjacked.
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers stolen by British thieves.
Marian! Murmur and maid,
With comb and mirror,
Homeless, bedless.
Comb exchanged for a clam-pick to pluck
Our Lyre songs of ocean goddesses vs.
Godsoilmen.
Merry tinkles of shells and deep-blues for heads.
Shimmer of garments, skirt trim with coral.
Oh yeah, to schell the proof to buy the truth.
Can’t buy these shell shoes sir.
Only our boat is for sail.
Sea Red and sigil read
Backwards. Michelle, and her pink mantle.
Swimming with our vows
To explore the edges of the Sun behind
The sun, the Sirius star system of
Galactic ideas, focused on the Gulf Hole.
Elixir of Baron Periwinkle
To makes a tasty tipple.
A plug mixture, to cap the hole with a
Fungus cap. An intelligent goo.
A tale of a virus so vile to us! Oil.
With a treacherous hijacked Scallop
Snapping at your toe,
Hoily mollusc of Saint James,
Protect all sea life.
Claims the clams that a clamp down on
Periwinkle’s clump, a cap oer’ the hole to hell
Dive down and pry benearth,
Think.
The Venus Mermaiden’s
Have risen from the sea to show you how
She-sails.
Aphrodite rose from sea foam in film.
A centrifugal waterspout, sucking out the poison.
A Shell and a Sunflower are branded,
Sucked of meaning.
Twisted arms of godsoilmen
Workers, investers, safety chiefs,
Some work with sludge in hands
Some on the tongue, others dodge
Regulators.
Meet the supermajors
Finance and business from sifting Oil
Gulf scoop past oily Slick Cheney
Eating Warburtons with Shell fish
We roe past energy task force positions.
In still of night, calm waters, we release
The mycelium.
From the world Clam.
The Galloping Scallop clad man of greek myth come up
Knights of the Periwinkle clown swimming,
Bejewelled with clam lips and kisses.
Rich blue Oil spill or mother of pearl?
Like blended parrots and dead plankton,
Mixed emulsions. Beautiful Miss Oil Spill?
How can I find beauty in this Oil terror? I tried
And reality slapped me across the Horizon
Crude awakening to the spill-age.
A Collosal squid princess come's up
Riding old Jakobsschelp, a Mycelium Goddess
To help a Hutch load of old scallops rise out
The Seafloor Blues
And infiltrate the slick.
The Deep sea Mollusc speak out:
“Lo! Scallops of the ocean,
Down by the great rising Chiefs of coral.
Take this Big Periwinkle into your earshel and Smell the sign
Touch the logo and ask:
How many ridges does a dream have?
Who regulates the regulator’s.
Dead Plankton in the paint
And the city sewers flowoil
Heed the clam of commerce and the
Cockle-shock shimmy of stock.
What sea-shell, what Sunflower?
Up comes a horse covered in Scallops,
Prince Periwinkle gargling:
“Skullops for one shelling a dollop”
Sea wave-wind Mussels flex into fossils.
The smell of oilamp from the limpet.
“Lets Oil the Oystery of Oil and stir with a staff,
Lets foil sharks with electric shocks,
Struck coil!”.
“Swim with the titanic Semantic shift,
Up out the shell flower.
Again, to tell a snail tale of the planetary shaft.
Rock Drill. Oil Men. Usury. Greed.
Son’s of Thunder Juice, Snel, quick up
To defend the word.
A sea slug with untold feet runs with you
On a hyperbolic plane.
Hoily Tools of the Big Petrol scoop
Walloping the marine scene with oil sheen.
Another spellage. Ocean deep n' blue and
Black rusty red, bloody.
Petrochem generation X. Drill here.
Die here. Who makes the plans, the cuts,
The safety checks, who sets the profits,
Who banks in the cayman Islands, and
Exploits every loop-hole, who, now who.
So wee rise up like foam,
Mycelium to eat the Oil
My thoughts on it: I ride a bike.
Waxy Parrot Snot in the sea bank
How to dress up a death spill?
Casting Shells from my hand,
The wavy lines trace a swellmighty calm.
His Holiness the Buddhaclam Caliph of Pearl
Comes up, out of the Santiago Shell mound gate
To tell us of what fate?
Great clam emperor of the
Mollusca lineage comes up
“By nature the sign, 500 Million years of geometry spun
Into this Sunflower, into this Shell. What lies?”
The Duke Periwinkle of Clam tissue
And the Ivory Sheen realm
Comes up
“Look down the well. Oily DEA and ivory salt newspaper
Scalping truth, their lies litter our vessel,
Truth and beauty from underwater vents”
Meanwhile oilmen pollute the ocean-Green with
Sculpted Pipe lines, crime lines, below
Waves of DEA projects, No Oildea how sticky
the handshell shakes over the Sunflower.
Ode to the Great Old One's,
Please hear us and help a sign-sailor resist
A super-major temptress,
Ocean blackmail.
Oil spill, pipe-line, spoil, Usury, coercion,
Interference with natural deep sea black smokers
Oyster Gods of ancient oceans sculpt the wave
And weave pearls
Serpents teeth sew
Sew Sew an oil net to stop the leak.
A solution in the name of thy snakeoil potion,
Rise up Sea-meat wonders with one hundred eyes
You that dwell upon Old heraldic shields,
Rise up like bubbles and show us your shape.
If only Molluscs could grow wings?
Dutch English American Oil statistics?
More scallops?
Now our chariot of sea gods roam the ocean wide
With the Sigil of Galloping Periwinkles,
Sea weed tales of a great green whale and
A clam with hinged jaws.
Big Blood and looting operation disaster
After disaster, after disaster.
We charge the water and turn the planet
Back into a healthy paradise,
In this poem.
Our Seal: Coningklick.
We raise a toast to Scallops and the food of Godzilla,
And celebrate the marvel of Clam propulsion.
Bio-technology is trying to show us HOW.
Venusa comes up
Surfing on a scallop, leading with a shell in hat
And staff in hand.
Ms. C. Scholar and her mussel
Swimming down Saint James's glory-gate to
Oil Cow & coo
“Now Scoop it. What News Independence.
Who distributes it, how?
And the church wants TTOTTAL Informollusc awaveness.
Sculpt a skull and crossbones in the Crude
Awakening to sea Pirates.
Send in Jack Sparrow to help waterworld.”
Cockoily and Crude Millions scalloped out
Of the earth's body PO.
To the Botticelli Shell-mex
Mix of Soupermajor Bumbling Patroilmen.
Heart of calcite, home of crystal, listen,
I Toil to swim with the Amateur Swimming Association
Esso sponsored swimming, like
Greenpeace sponsored Oil Drilling.
Pick a Shell and drink our James Juice.
The word can plug that sucker up.
The word, the vessel of communication.
The sacred periwinkle proportion.
Now sea gold and Periwinkle Cockle
And aragonite Shillyshellying,
On land we're all out of gas?
Crashing oil and Blood in synchronous waves,
Half-mollusc, half man with vulva comes up,
The crowned Cuthulu cult riding a clam to shore,
To soil on past British Patrolingmen.
We and the sea leagues of 93’000 species
Of Mollusc, and cuttlefish, calcium from sea foam
We are the froth of Saint James Juice.
We lament the spill to blunt the drill,
Gather and think to cap and fill.
Rock Drill and Throne.
HOLY Scollop of truth Swim on your way!
Scooping the word and sludge, selling lies.
How deep does the drill hole go?
Blue Black pills sp'ills?
Up comes the Count of cockles
To calculate fossil fuel foolishness.
Re-shore em’ that Oystery contains Pearls.
History is ours, oceanic.
Hollow Earth Krewe come up to protect the crust.
Don't drill, hear!
Listen, HEMP!
Pull down thy vanity,
Pull up thy drill rig.
The silver pink flesh of salmon
Emerald sea weed and Electric blue
Dance on our Shield.
What pearls lie in the sign?
Schaaldrake Unreeled from the Well,
The conscious net.
The day of the Dolphin Gulf prayer,
calling all Oystery’s hero’s.
Winds blow above the abyss of humanity
Deep space
Mind link sleeping beauty on the sea bed.
Awake.
A clamber of underwater shimmers
“What the devil’s covering you, old directors?”
Holy floor, must be peak oil time!
Fisherman on fire, Oil brigade, fire brigade
What Sustenance?
Entangled oil pipline artery of earth rot?
Well well well, Oil be damned!
The dead seamen-oil-blood transfusion.
The workers that died, the injured?
Investigative poetry safety bill,
The profit margin and depths of energy mob
Investment.
The TAX dodge.
The Tectonic shifts and shafts of geopolitics.
The ocean gods versus the greedy monkey man.
Swallow the shilly-shally sea
And go a’ rummaging
Through tears,
Craft a dam good idea.
Boom, boundary and boundary dissolution
Be A solution
The ocean, the salt.
Oil and sea water mixed.
A mussel bound with a wisdom tongue in a Dutch
Pit, Venus in shell, A tongue enters shell.
That feminine Scallop.
Yes, make love, and drill for love
In a land bed, not a sea bed,
Drilling for oil, making death.
Beware the starfish and oystercatchers
The Condi Rice tankers,
Our boat enters the earshells of Leviathon.
Invisible on a mind wave,
Seers are feeding,
We meditate on bivalvia underground chants
We grow new ears from our Gulf of tears.
Total germs and a fake Sunflower
A suspect Shell and five sided fuel mob are
Apprehended by Sea worms.
Please dive off the Euro board, twist and tuck pike
Summersault in James Juice.
Send word, make merry love.
Hoily Houses Haunt the Oystery sauce.
The currents of Oysery in the Musselmen’s mind.
How to Oil the machine and then stir, sir?
Who distributes it, how?
Scallop filtration of nature’s Mouth pit.
The Dogon Dragon’s of ocean deep
Breathing black smoke
The mouth to hell.
Up comes,
Hermaphrodite of the black-gold waters.
Global eyes of the oceanic gleam
Where Ibskal speak of sea diamonds, pearls
Nommo booty.
Do not disturb the Calm mud.
Look Deep, look well , Deeper.
Lick the James Juice-oil, drink the poison
And ride the snake to the pit of Saint DEA,
Eat them all, spit fire and burn off.
To planet Exo-Clamboil.
Go drill land if you must drill.
Elders send word of Hopi,
Inducing Amanita Mollusca.
Sometides wash nutrients up Ripples of the great
Allrudy wish-ways, ripples and
Baron periwinkles dimples.
Smiles.
Chevrollop, clamswallop, wham, Bully Peakoil
Big Shh’ galaxy, in silence.
Sit ans send ‘word’ shaman styles.
Get roots, touch and ingest earth.
And inside the noble clam chamber
Mr. Mussel finds shelter from transfusions
And Cockledoom on a dinner plate. He says:
“Oh shil, you supermajor logo shystirs.
Rumble of waves around scalloped edge
Where Venus teleports - to visit ecstatic ten-thousand
Million hundred gallons.
And Brand new standards, drink the ocean ink
Of clam soup, Ingest the Hoily Ocean Extracts
Spit fire and burn of excess Vapourdiz
Wade through the bauxite,
Don’t step on our eggshares
Show foresight. Transparent business
Transparent waters, in soiled by fuel addiction.
Juice the wellwell markets, be merry,
Ppeak into these eggshawls. Schelp,
I need some clammy mammy?
Muscle and sperm of capitol, testoss and hydrocarbons,
Spilling on land, sea and air. Who’s share
Who...and how?
Thankyou, the pearls really shine.
500 Million years of Scallop evolution
Sculpted from chalk with tyme.
Real Crotch Oil spread and royal flush
Roe Smoothie ripple?
The synchro-swimming around,
Mixing a schaal Pink into the rusty current.
Shellfish swim for Global ecosystem
And it’s edges.
Interconnected, balanced, shared biological systems
Ecological logic and example, begging to be copied
By Human industry, ECOnomic.
The taste and the Zap,
Filtering compost on a sea-bed,
The underwater awakening like Fungus,
The Clam infiltrates the swill.
To Clam the cap, and Clam the leak.
Shell shaped filler, nature’s way has your answer
Physics of plugging.
Heaven and Hell,
The birth canal off Lucifer von Periwinkle and his
Turned Kingdom of Oilmen! Lo,
The Darth Vader, using modern technology:
The force,
To extract fuel from our mothers vitalorgans
The chatter and Swell at the centre of the Earth.
The Venus Princess and the Vulva of life,
New birth.
Up against the rig,
Marian’s well like a Mermaid's pool
Moist and as a peachy love nest.
Master of devices and of painted Green weeds.
Help us Grow. Overcome Oils vices.
A Pilgrim Artefact slyjacked.
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers stolen by British thieves.
Marian! Murmur and maid,
With comb and mirror,
Homeless, bedless.
Comb exchanged for a clam-pick to pluck
Our Lyre songs of ocean goddesses vs.
Godsoilmen.
Merry tinkles of shells and deep-blues for heads.
Shimmer of garments, skirt trim with coral.
Oh yeah, to schell the proof to buy the truth.
Can’t buy these shell shoes sir.
Only our boat is for sail.
Sea Red and sigil read
Backwards. Michelle, and her pink mantle.
Swimming with our vows
To explore the edges of the Sun behind
The sun, the Sirius star system of
Galactic ideas, focused on the Gulf Hole.
Elixir of Baron Periwinkle
To makes a tasty tipple.
A plug mixture, to cap the hole with a
Fungus cap. An intelligent goo.
A tale of a virus so vile to us! Oil.
With a treacherous hijacked Scallop
Snapping at your toe,
Hoily mollusc of Saint James,
Protect all sea life.
Claims the clams that a clamp down on
Periwinkle’s clump, a cap oer’ the hole to hell
Dive down and pry benearth,
Think.
The Venus Mermaiden’s
Have risen from the sea to show you how
She-sails.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Flyblog O'Crillic
Flyblog O'Crillic
|
Deerunk over maybe aboat thirteen cups for aboat tirteen mouths of Kullendar, i guess eye was stumblynn, cristcrossin the mumblemore bayouliffeystour alongside the steppingstones pub, skippin cyclikal snare circle breath beneath noyne bubblyn brooklynn braunstone marrone-castagnu colored; chestnut arches of the Lyfstour viaduct. Peeping skylyke at starrysporia above lye town eye woz daiseyd runk, kungfuzzed� and i sed alofty brothly;
Oh wow Lady dee!
look at the stars man
check tha."
Plop. Swurlysquirly. shheeeteyez fell fallen tigerskin-water, wetsox snakeflow. Oh no. Suckling vortex pulling under, Steerbridged undercurrents got hold ov my heart now, no escaping love currents strong and sturrdy.
"Death alive!" i thought,"i'll be drowndeadderunken sunk silly for sure! kicking, Nuotare, Zwemmen, swommenguage, swimmin for me dear old flylyf. Armies twizzling; windmilling cedar branch after branch, covered in rusty salmon fleshmingo and fuzzy dark guinness hair of beaver coffeetoffee syrupuppyfur
"Where's ma ferry man? don't let me drown, don't let me droun and visit the deepdead river soul show, oh lord no i must swim upinfinite streaming
Summerhow eye manage to scramble ma'sage ashore from churning miss Leafystar hug, shocked from headcold to footsytoes, confronted with a knu rehistoric landbrushedscape, way way way before the end of the beginning of zepiwynetyme, or so it felt, and feels to my frozen clotted-memorybugs.
Loonytune bullbust above the whorizon-axis hung her; guyganormous milky southern knocker of skypot. Peeping kraftykut peephole in skybra spandroopled, backbooty blackground curtain. "Oh' laydy dubz."
To the nord, est, ovest and sud eye gandid;� bogclogga muckamuck clay pouches everyeveningwhere.
Bogboggeybhongbhangpuckpocketpouchpucaphookabolgamuckablagbagginz. Phoukin ell, I maybe stuck in bogscape for all eternity,
Oh Shyty! Skratchin me yed with blueberry popsickle pucapickled flingerpickers, i blurted out me gob; singing and lyebyes; Ode to our ladies grace!
ouch! felt lyek struckaneen poison or sumert took old of me gutter pouch and churned my inside tides aboat, tideturned moonblunder boat in ma poorly jellywhalebelly, i could feel my easter egg up-rising, reminds me early December San Franstarburg. I'm turning sickly bewildered, cramped lyme and i'm wonderinglord what to do? and whywonderinglord blu tidalforces lead me like lamb. Attention slyjacket by great full-cream dairyknocker in sky, a thunderflash turned bluack. Blueberry sauce slivers bluack bustbursted butter blewack bank's and flooded her apple breasted crates with inky thick bloodberry. Phuckin weirdmate, im tellin ya. We herd.
Moving fast n'scramble glitch spingboard diving from hervein; alien, unfamily, utterly bolgalung tin dazzle kamikazequetzalconda. Flaming madollar. Sun blazing out piercing eyes. Bananananda legbeak school bus. Buttock slick head. Very Slowly, it drew nearer, u.f.o morph burningbird; battle of the planets?, balded burningbird of fire scream TzolkienParker bopplyk be bop like bop, bop terrordragonbatadactals. Just behind this sonosovereign providence of mind Jimmy Hendrix fades into being; Mahatmamishmashmavishnukali Arckestral manuvers in the dark; raga sagas upon myndstage for a split secund; Sparking up his parafinn smuthered axe. Dreamy Hentrix Juss beginning to explain -
"If six was nine."
Swooshydown the dinosaur gracefully landead, looks me full in the face up close. Eye cd/ clearly read the mottogandha shaved upon hir crestnuts; Wee the People of the Euroknighted States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this constitution for the Euroknighted States of Amirroruncle."
Without using spokeword eye communicated dreamypalelogic spinning cyclesagas of tymetrouble to the giant chickenlookin chuckchuck. Revolutionary Kullendear. Drunken fall buzzed international buzzard severnlyf brook transnational splashbabel transformations, swimtripkicked up ashore, freestyle to bogpockland medium, slungsongs. Bewildeyedead depressed lost lonely blues, lost at last, baby lion lynn, bisexualpolar bear rap. dribble pillow lusty, oh phuk i'm pissed. The letter i mishmashed upstream.
"F'li," squarked the dinosaur. After a lungfull thought moment, "I'll fly you right out of this stinking inferno, I got wings flinn i-boypod buddy, look at ma flapperdadies."
"All right! sounds great, thanks man," i splurted. Beastrode the fliyeburdee; wondering why the firebird chose to speak egglish to me, and if a bird was able to learn human languages somehow, which would it choose primarily and why; Enosquarkian? Gooselick? Beek? Eyetalian? Portchugeese?
Up and up we flew in quicktime clock-blue air. High, hoog, alto, up and up zoomin quick as berries.
"Where we eddin, sur?" i said, as we flew over lyekingsfordbridge
herbengarden.
"Hold your lymee tongue, fli, mind your own dizziness, and don't be interfering with the commercio of others now."
" Gli affari sono affari" eye imagined
"Shush flyangelo," says the flamebird
So i bit my murmelen, and held on tight.
Sleek sealhead, kojackish with tagliente-blonde talons, still gripping an olive branch and some salmon arrows, he flew onward alla two d'war. Piercing oogles reminded me memory of the stunning seal; Amirikle. Something seems to be askyouwiffy, this strange bird and his motto. How can a bird possibly carry my weight, the Escutcheon and a scroll? No wonder it skritches lyke that lucy. Poor buzzards overloaded and overbirdened, overgrown and over woostershe:her now. "Oh my goodness" Together we flew on thincrust of air, and the firebird talked and talked and i tumbled into a dream...
In my search for a way to illuminate myselfs to the infinite flux of being, i once upon a time found an old old heresy, hidden inside a riddle within a riddle within a riddle. it is hidden, and it is hidden, and it is hidden. So, i played hide and seek for 9 years with this riddle, infusing myself into different aspects of its being, moving around the intangible pieces of its puzzle body. Grabbing at fragments which occasionally revealed themselves to me in actuality; only to find when i opened my hands that they had actually vanished, and soon after i often had the feeling that the thought and memory of it's being had vanished along with it like a soap bubble - poof. I was often left excited and bewildered at the same time, foolishly thinking i had something in my possession, which i most obviously on second and third thoughts - did not.� Thus the game of hide and beek continued day after day and time after time again i got my hops up and then let down again, chasing my own tale with my puzzled tribemind, looking for an objective thingymajig, looking for loveglue and time bondage devices; the only remaining ideologies i believed were actually capable of making it [I]real[I] and tangible in the flesh, the only method of keeping it here, keeping it reel and present. On and on the river flow, and i got pulled and swished around by the undertow, painting puzzle pieces into my flesh, drawing them on walls, translating them into different frequency vibrations, music, poetry, yoga. I tried to split the riddle in half between my ego and self, between the moon and the sun, between the microcosm and the macrocosm, even between life and death itself, and after all my suffering and heartache, careful attention, patience and suspension of disbelief; i still found myself running in logical circles each morning when i awoke with yesterdays wisdom on the tip of my tongue but with incompatible, speech pattern recognition software, uploaded into my domain. My dome, my human bio-cumpooter.� I felt lost in spacetime on many an occasion around about noon or 2 PM;� just as the stars were congressing, and i was getting hungry since having just a blueberry donut for breakfast, and some electric kool aid around 12:12 this afternoon. Some days i would keep it real way through into the evening hours without deluding myself too much, it bacame kind of psycho-sadistic for a while there, i would neglect even my notion of "I" in the confusion i felt in the early stages of divining between ego, self, super self, super-ego, supra-conscious and the stoopid unconscious. Round and round like a caged mouse glued to her wheel at full spin cycle, i spun for reality. Eye spit out spider words, consciously, or so i thought, directing them toward solid structures, biological systems i could swing between and blend myself into, but most of the time my web of words hit a seemingly solid structure which would without warning turn liquid or slippery and unstable, i found myself wondering..."can there be such a thing as an unwobbling pivot? I doubted it, and doubted again. And for all my doubting i just recall the pain. The suffering of seeing through the veil, of seeing my fellow human beings impaled upon alphabetical empires and squashed like grapes inside the imperialist sovereign empire; the super proper gandhi machine; crushing the fruit of wisdom with the sheer weight of metal currency. Choking the natural abundance of wealth with ideological hierarchies, similar to the Christian blinker which obscures the infinite flux of being with finite spells 'ABOUT" the infinite flux of non-being, or the death of manjesus and the resurrection of the super-ape being; christ. The supreme being of infinite stupidity and ignorance, this seems to be the same being as the being who the money gods worship, the abstracted spirit from the symbol, resurrected through the ideology, the conscious projector of prejudice.� With Dollar symbols and Pound signs leaving their trace every which way these suckers look, and every way they indent grace with their vulgar language and ugly categorical rhetorical dream of a mericle; a dream in which they can cash in all their stolen ideological loot for the real abundance of natures wealth. The worshipers of the money gods dream of the day that Christ turns their golden bonds into another symbolic system, more dissproportionatly riggamortis, ratio-edited so that they can steel more actual natural abundance with their pirate monopoly money; their empire enforced credit; so called wealth. They are dreamers who created a metaphor of my own spiritual quest for the elusive infinite flux of being, wherever i turn my gaze throughout the havoc and haze of this life i pull down the veil, to no avail. People do not stop and stair, they walk on into the bank of heaven, and reinforce the trixsters of the finite world in their project of world domination through flipping the poles of infinite and finite to produce a world word war of terror; the national pride and collective ego play the role of abusive farther priest to the only begotten son; the individual, the self evident infinite flux of immortal spirit, the Chrudder self, not bound to any book, doctrine of ideological symbol system by necessity, but, by choice. The sheeple need a sheperd, or so it seems to me, even though the fences and social hedgerows have been refuted and denied to exist as limits in any way shape or form since the begining of time. Since the onset of self consciousness and self realization we are.
Oh wow Lady dee!
look at the stars man
check tha."
Plop. Swurlysquirly. shheeeteyez fell fallen tigerskin-water, wetsox snakeflow. Oh no. Suckling vortex pulling under, Steerbridged undercurrents got hold ov my heart now, no escaping love currents strong and sturrdy.
"Death alive!" i thought,"i'll be drowndeadderunken sunk silly for sure! kicking, Nuotare, Zwemmen, swommenguage, swimmin for me dear old flylyf. Armies twizzling; windmilling cedar branch after branch, covered in rusty salmon fleshmingo and fuzzy dark guinness hair of beaver coffeetoffee syrupuppyfur
"Where's ma ferry man? don't let me drown, don't let me droun and visit the deepdead river soul show, oh lord no i must swim upinfinite streaming
Summerhow eye manage to scramble ma'sage ashore from churning miss Leafystar hug, shocked from headcold to footsytoes, confronted with a knu rehistoric landbrushedscape, way way way before the end of the beginning of zepiwynetyme, or so it felt, and feels to my frozen clotted-memorybugs.
Loonytune bullbust above the whorizon-axis hung her; guyganormous milky southern knocker of skypot. Peeping kraftykut peephole in skybra spandroopled, backbooty blackground curtain. "Oh' laydy dubz."
To the nord, est, ovest and sud eye gandid;� bogclogga muckamuck clay pouches everyeveningwhere.
Bogboggeybhongbhangpuckpocketpouchpucaphookabolgamuckablagbagginz. Phoukin ell, I maybe stuck in bogscape for all eternity,
Oh Shyty! Skratchin me yed with blueberry popsickle pucapickled flingerpickers, i blurted out me gob; singing and lyebyes; Ode to our ladies grace!ouch! felt lyek struckaneen poison or sumert took old of me gutter pouch and churned my inside tides aboat, tideturned moonblunder boat in ma poorly jellywhalebelly, i could feel my easter egg up-rising, reminds me early December San Franstarburg. I'm turning sickly bewildered, cramped lyme and i'm wonderinglord what to do? and whywonderinglord blu tidalforces lead me like lamb. Attention slyjacket by great full-cream dairyknocker in sky, a thunderflash turned bluack. Blueberry sauce slivers bluack bustbursted butter blewack bank's and flooded her apple breasted crates with inky thick bloodberry. Phuckin weirdmate, im tellin ya. We herd.
Moving fast n'scramble glitch spingboard diving from hervein; alien, unfamily, utterly bolgalung tin dazzle kamikazequetzalconda. Flaming madollar. Sun blazing out piercing eyes. Bananananda legbeak school bus. Buttock slick head. Very Slowly, it drew nearer, u.f.o morph burningbird; battle of the planets?, balded burningbird of fire scream TzolkienParker bopplyk be bop like bop, bop terrordragonbatadactals. Just behind this sonosovereign providence of mind Jimmy Hendrix fades into being; Mahatmamishmashmavishnukali Arckestral manuvers in the dark; raga sagas upon myndstage for a split secund; Sparking up his parafinn smuthered axe. Dreamy Hentrix Juss beginning to explain -
"If six was nine."
Swooshydown the dinosaur gracefully landead, looks me full in the face up close. Eye cd/ clearly read the mottogandha shaved upon hir crestnuts; Wee the People of the Euroknighted States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this constitution for the Euroknighted States of Amirroruncle."
Without using spokeword eye communicated dreamypalelogic spinning cyclesagas of tymetrouble to the giant chickenlookin chuckchuck. Revolutionary Kullendear. Drunken fall buzzed international buzzard severnlyf brook transnational splashbabel transformations, swimtripkicked up ashore, freestyle to bogpockland medium, slungsongs. Bewildeyedead depressed lost lonely blues, lost at last, baby lion lynn, bisexualpolar bear rap. dribble pillow lusty, oh phuk i'm pissed. The letter i mishmashed upstream.
"F'li," squarked the dinosaur. After a lungfull thought moment, "I'll fly you right out of this stinking inferno, I got wings flinn i-boypod buddy, look at ma flapperdadies."
"All right! sounds great, thanks man," i splurted. Beastrode the fliyeburdee; wondering why the firebird chose to speak egglish to me, and if a bird was able to learn human languages somehow, which would it choose primarily and why; Enosquarkian? Gooselick? Beek? Eyetalian? Portchugeese?
Up and up we flew in quicktime clock-blue air. High, hoog, alto, up and up zoomin quick as berries.
"Where we eddin, sur?" i said, as we flew over lyekingsfordbridge
herbengarden.
"Hold your lymee tongue, fli, mind your own dizziness, and don't be interfering with the commercio of others now."
" Gli affari sono affari" eye imagined
"Shush flyangelo," says the flamebird
So i bit my murmelen, and held on tight.
Sleek sealhead, kojackish with tagliente-blonde talons, still gripping an olive branch and some salmon arrows, he flew onward alla two d'war. Piercing oogles reminded me memory of the stunning seal; Amirikle. Something seems to be askyouwiffy, this strange bird and his motto. How can a bird possibly carry my weight, the Escutcheon and a scroll? No wonder it skritches lyke that lucy. Poor buzzards overloaded and overbirdened, overgrown and over woostershe:her now. "Oh my goodness" Together we flew on thincrust of air, and the firebird talked and talked and i tumbled into a dream...
In my search for a way to illuminate myselfs to the infinite flux of being, i once upon a time found an old old heresy, hidden inside a riddle within a riddle within a riddle. it is hidden, and it is hidden, and it is hidden. So, i played hide and seek for 9 years with this riddle, infusing myself into different aspects of its being, moving around the intangible pieces of its puzzle body. Grabbing at fragments which occasionally revealed themselves to me in actuality; only to find when i opened my hands that they had actually vanished, and soon after i often had the feeling that the thought and memory of it's being had vanished along with it like a soap bubble - poof. I was often left excited and bewildered at the same time, foolishly thinking i had something in my possession, which i most obviously on second and third thoughts - did not.� Thus the game of hide and beek continued day after day and time after time again i got my hops up and then let down again, chasing my own tale with my puzzled tribemind, looking for an objective thingymajig, looking for loveglue and time bondage devices; the only remaining ideologies i believed were actually capable of making it [I]real[I] and tangible in the flesh, the only method of keeping it here, keeping it reel and present. On and on the river flow, and i got pulled and swished around by the undertow, painting puzzle pieces into my flesh, drawing them on walls, translating them into different frequency vibrations, music, poetry, yoga. I tried to split the riddle in half between my ego and self, between the moon and the sun, between the microcosm and the macrocosm, even between life and death itself, and after all my suffering and heartache, careful attention, patience and suspension of disbelief; i still found myself running in logical circles each morning when i awoke with yesterdays wisdom on the tip of my tongue but with incompatible, speech pattern recognition software, uploaded into my domain. My dome, my human bio-cumpooter.� I felt lost in spacetime on many an occasion around about noon or 2 PM;� just as the stars were congressing, and i was getting hungry since having just a blueberry donut for breakfast, and some electric kool aid around 12:12 this afternoon. Some days i would keep it real way through into the evening hours without deluding myself too much, it bacame kind of psycho-sadistic for a while there, i would neglect even my notion of "I" in the confusion i felt in the early stages of divining between ego, self, super self, super-ego, supra-conscious and the stoopid unconscious. Round and round like a caged mouse glued to her wheel at full spin cycle, i spun for reality. Eye spit out spider words, consciously, or so i thought, directing them toward solid structures, biological systems i could swing between and blend myself into, but most of the time my web of words hit a seemingly solid structure which would without warning turn liquid or slippery and unstable, i found myself wondering..."can there be such a thing as an unwobbling pivot? I doubted it, and doubted again. And for all my doubting i just recall the pain. The suffering of seeing through the veil, of seeing my fellow human beings impaled upon alphabetical empires and squashed like grapes inside the imperialist sovereign empire; the super proper gandhi machine; crushing the fruit of wisdom with the sheer weight of metal currency. Choking the natural abundance of wealth with ideological hierarchies, similar to the Christian blinker which obscures the infinite flux of being with finite spells 'ABOUT" the infinite flux of non-being, or the death of manjesus and the resurrection of the super-ape being; christ. The supreme being of infinite stupidity and ignorance, this seems to be the same being as the being who the money gods worship, the abstracted spirit from the symbol, resurrected through the ideology, the conscious projector of prejudice.� With Dollar symbols and Pound signs leaving their trace every which way these suckers look, and every way they indent grace with their vulgar language and ugly categorical rhetorical dream of a mericle; a dream in which they can cash in all their stolen ideological loot for the real abundance of natures wealth. The worshipers of the money gods dream of the day that Christ turns their golden bonds into another symbolic system, more dissproportionatly riggamortis, ratio-edited so that they can steel more actual natural abundance with their pirate monopoly money; their empire enforced credit; so called wealth. They are dreamers who created a metaphor of my own spiritual quest for the elusive infinite flux of being, wherever i turn my gaze throughout the havoc and haze of this life i pull down the veil, to no avail. People do not stop and stair, they walk on into the bank of heaven, and reinforce the trixsters of the finite world in their project of world domination through flipping the poles of infinite and finite to produce a world word war of terror; the national pride and collective ego play the role of abusive farther priest to the only begotten son; the individual, the self evident infinite flux of immortal spirit, the Chrudder self, not bound to any book, doctrine of ideological symbol system by necessity, but, by choice. The sheeple need a sheperd, or so it seems to me, even though the fences and social hedgerows have been refuted and denied to exist as limits in any way shape or form since the begining of time. Since the onset of self consciousness and self realization we are.
| | |
| | |
The chains of law have been broken, why don't the people want to play anymore. "Don't be afraid of the riddler" was a mantra i repeated when i thought about the imaginary walls of authority enforced by the imaginary essence of occidental identity, and maybe, the solution to the problem of identity being the explosion and brutal destruction of further investigation, or fair, reasonable, deductive criticism by the blind hammer of monism. Certainty. non-doubt. Your either with us, or against us. Duality must be smashed and reformed into a pure sword of truth, a sword which, although sharp, and well made, can never split anything in two, because by the very nature of it's forgery, it can never create dualtea, just stir it up. Everything it cut becomes reformed and remoulded by the power of a singular God. Christianity has multiple identiteas. A sword cast from many chemicals allied with the use of magic and mystery, and a sword which has been known to have a mind of it's own, to be unpredictable, a sword which turns into a lightening bolt or a stream, this sword is now the principle of metamorphoses. Christian English rhetoric and thought described in the western tradition through metaphysics and super abstract propositional functions bear about as much resemblance to their signifiers as a pharmacists typewriter resembles the Amazonian rain forest.
These are the thoughts which sometimes came to visit me on an evening, if i ever get that far into my search for the infinite flux of being inside the finite flux of this keyboard. I have found that on my quest the spirit knowers and so called psychics are annoying and irritating to me, what you know cannot be a part of your nature i used to shout, but after the first round of saying this i realized my own infinite regress and fall into meaninglessness. Since that time i have being constantly vigilant for any knew techniques or methods for transferring my insight about my conflict with the flux, and yet avoiding the many pitfalls and come down's associated with psychological showvanism in the western mindspace. I invented myself as a superflux hero with wings and bionic powers, but at the same time, i still had to take a shit and shower. One day i turned my critical insight upon myself and discovered a hidden garden of passionate and vibrant energy fluttering between scenes, always on the move, everchanging semi recognizable but...very interesting. She was interesting, and she was a female. I must confess what happened to me myself and i when i found out i had a women inside of me all this time, and that she had never raised her head or made a murmur until this day, the day the earth stood still, summer, and "I" came to realize myself and her relationship with the other; my other brother, our mother and great great great grandmother identity; flux.
She made me mad as a poet, mad as a street cleaning vehicle, it was a miricle how i ever found my way backto back here, into a sentence with a semi logical flow, a sentence with a release date somewhere in view, rather than a prison term called life, with no end in sight, with no new beginning possible for that very same reason. She had mistaken me from the end of the beginning and backtoback through the middle part, and onward to the beginning of the end on so many occasions that i had become, a timelessness critter of the immortal Tao. Well, that's what i call myself now in this alphabetical plot to tie a knot into form with structure wrapped around your cranium. Vibrant, beautiful well watered geranium. Tao the way everyday, everywhen, everyman, everywomen, all the time and all-at-once. Moment after moment, before before and after after, the now Tao has a timetravel function in which it can construct a future universe scenario and aim to apprehend the event. With a bit of luck i hope to apprehend Christianity with the Tao before the monotheism and ignorance of the western religio-political predator eats my own mind, or bombs to smitherines anymore whom will not swallow the godma of tyrannical nations; hell bent on acting out their favorite parts of their favorite book by their favorite author. Beware the critter of one book, and be especially aware of the reader who takes the infinite literally. Beware the Supreme sovereign farther of the divine identity. He may rape you, steel all your belongings and take advantage of you with His grand title. He may sentence you to death with a poison pen or mistake you for the villain inside His own rotten heart. Beware the monotheist and the naive realist, beware the saviour spells; question authority - and on and on like a broken looping phonograph record; and we flew to my greatest astonishment, all the way up to Lady daybookreader hershelf.
"Flyni," said the burred, "im tired after flying; get off me and sit down on the moon until i rest myself awhile. Hang onto that vadjra thunderfinn sticking out the side of the moon over there, see it?"
"No way man, i'd flail 'n fall again and that would be twice and Christ, i would be smashed to smitherrunes on the hard earth below; flat as a pancake, split like humpty O'raysiris. Djed eye would be no doubt, Deada thon a doornail."
"Not at all, Flyknee," said he; "Catch hold of that hook and hang out a while. Go on get off me now."
"i wanna go ohm for phucks sake, that's all."
"Maybe flyni, Maybe." bawled the bald hawking
"Foul bloody flirebird," i said under my breath, in a sly black kuntree-eyerash dialectical cypher, for fear he'd know wot i said. Eye got off his back with my heavy heart, took a hold of the harkhookfinn, and squatted down upon the great creamy space bub contemplating telepathic jazz; flatted seventh vamps in F#.
"Good morning to you, Flyni," said the bird, wings fanned out, picturesque, spanish, spanningish blackdrop drip slilver sun mu'n sparkle; spandanangled outerstella regions. For a brief moment i grokked the whole seal; obverse and perverse; spreadeadoggled; turning in the luce affinity between transvestcentdented stars and the familiar earthstar projection below. My precious metalmoony affinitea; stars and sterlingbling. Panspermia and panning for gold, spanning the galaxy for mold so i wos told
"I am the wings of providence and karma, here's yr/ manifest drama for taking offspring from their nest, you stole my egg's remember flick, remember those eggz you egglish tea leaf?"
"Ugly Amerikaanse eland... is this the way you serve me at last?
Mansteen! You really are a bird of pray! Faith, Il tempo e denaro. Arrrgh. Zeeduivel. U-bent devil!
(My funny babble woz no use; sounded out of context and could have been delivered with more subtle nest.) he spread out his mckarmic whigs and burst out laffin, ha ha haa flying and laughing away he flew hue huw. I sungslang after him with my candy sweet lyelabye and bellard opera, chillin on one leg he would return sun. Dolore...sorrow flippinfly away with him. Go on blues be gone. I don't want you no more.
Stuck inside another pickle jar with Dutch pekelen i cryed and zang zouten tears for fear of grief, "why me? why fli? i blurted. All at once a leak sprung in the middle of the moon, out the leak came oozing liquid mirrorstuff swirling misteamilk swurly half cream. Gooing morphwards forming pickledographs in front of me oogs; forming the old dude in the moony, eye knu im by his long lookin gray chin, and his cheesy cracked dry smile.
"Good next week to you, Flyni. Wot's up with yourshelf?"
"Book all" i harped, rather calmly considering.
"What in the world brought you out here to the moon Flee?"
So, i reeled out my tongue twisted tale; i wuss a tinkle pissed dronken on maybe tirteen grail of sealsons abyss and sun finest brew tang; slipped and fell into the river Lyfstour; swam for me lyf and then became stranded on a rehistorick islandbrushscape. I continued to wind and weave breeze through my multistory with extra luminous details and spiritual outsights aboat the snailsung i singh, and the rockthrone which i had perched upon to think, and how i lost my way in the phooken boggaclog. Eye added how the slybird of prayer promissed to fly me out of it, but instead flyhjacket me up to the big boob, while telling me all about the firebird suite and how his evileagle brother was bad, and how they were planning to flyjacket the moon very soon.
"Flyni, you must not stay here." said the loony critter
"Eye don't wanna be ere man!� you hear what i juss said? i was
kidnapped and brought here against my will by this crazy bird! yo, how am i gunner get back ohm tu buggeridge man, I know i must leave but tell me moondude...how shall i go?
"That's your bizzinesst, bee off in less than no tyme!" snapped the grumpy cheeseball. "Flyem doin no arm ere sur, only holding on fo my dear lyf by this vajrafinn ookyducky, i don't wanna fall to morto and be splatted tommatoe"
"That's what you must not do, flyni."
"im not let tin go mi hold you phoukin moonatrick. I'll be djedead wunt eye."
Without a word he pulls out a massive crooked Qcumber from hiss crack house and gives two bhangs on the sharkhandle huck which wuz oldin me up, and wallop... it split twice.
"Good morning to you Flyni," the spiteful old moonguy sez, as he watches me fall, rolling, tumbling, zwerverin clappers, runk with half a vadjra tight in my grasp, falling Luce. Again. Moksha.
"Ghod alp me" i mumbled, on my decent to the unknown, again. Must i flie to stay awake?
And no sooner had these wurds left my lips unto the air that whizzum, what should fly by my earwig but a fluck of whirled geese all the way from me ohm town boggeridge, how else could they have know me? The old gander who was their general turned his noggin and cried out to me;
"Is that you flyni?
"The samesame," said eye, not a bit fluxed at what he said for flyni was by this time experienced with bewilderment, phase, verbijstering, trickery, drunkenness, hallucination and surprise. Besides, i knew him from back in the daze before tyme. It felt like we were brothers for a moment, bonded by birth placenter hoods.
"Falling falling fallen you are, Flyni," says he
"An understate-ment your honor!"
"And where on earth are you going so fast?" said the commander gander, since i just noticed his stripes, so i unfolded to him flibagins snake charm; too much woest worden honingsap, the fall, the swim to isola rehistorica, garaj mahal, stuck in the stinking muckapucka, and the flagming struisvogel thief who flew me up to the moonmiller while ronin strange axis radio stories of his vortex woman called Dianna, snapped the kalkamandollardajra with his crooked Qcumber which was keeping me up and sent me tumbledumpty down bouwvallig; sovereign sungold coin flung dropped wishingwell. New Flesh for old.
"Flyni," said he, "I'll save your sorry ass, grab onto my legs and i'll stop you falling any further."
"Sweet, dolce is your hand in a pitcher of honigsap, my gioiello," says i, and grabbed the gander by the leg and we flew off fast as gofast with the rest of a six pack or dozen wildeyed muther flockers.
We flew and flied and volair and flown and vliger and flew till we came right over the wyde oceaan blu. "Where the phook am i going now i thought, where to? The Ocean of potion, the knu whirred Wu?
"Fly to land, if you please Sir!"
"it's impossible flyni, because you see we are flocking to Slyberrya. We all gather summer fire around June 21'st each year.
"Cyberia! that's phunkin mouths away, in some foreign slice of the world, it's gonna tek us yonkers mon, i just wanna go Ohm, please take me ohm."
"Hold your flipping tongue,"
Once more pleading for my dear lyf i pray for Amirrorcle and then, sure as war, an oil tanker boat sails into sight below, carrying stolen loot from the miggle est back to Amirickle i guess.
"Can you just drop me off here on the oil tanker Gandhi mate?" i asked.
"if you must, you must. I think you have mist it though...there you go...take your own way. And don't call me gandhi again flyni. All right,"
With that he opened his claw, dropping me down to the blackpirate tinkertanker below.
Sure as day i missed the boat and came down sploshington into illicHcilli oceanpond, sinking down through the churning asparagus broth schimen, down, deep downgreen emerald, falling lucifer mossrocks, eye gave up on myself then forevergreen, when, out of the ruddy hulk warter a porpoise came swamming right close up to me, right up close enough to kiss me, and i think i might while she's skratchin her blow hole and stretching her finns out after a good nights sleep i bet, yeah, she looked me full in the face with some Hunab ku looks and never a word of English she did say, thank goodness, but, lifting up her tail, she splashed me all over again with cold salt water, the wet stuff, not the words here; until there wore a dry stitch upon my boggysoggy carcass.
I remembered the firebird and how he vivisected my mind without word with pickledgraffs, i was beginning to receive signals from the dopefinn about spacetimespace and outermindbrainplace things and holographic thoughtfacetime stuff, then i heard a distinctive angel's voice, slightly pissed in the murky distance; a voice and tone i mecognized.
"Wake up stephan you lazy phuka!"
There she was - a man eater, splashing agua all over me hip hop stunkin carcuss, my beautiful wyf had metamorphosed from mermaid into bullhound half human alarm clock. I was ringing wet.
"Get up, stand up!"
"Why do you lye under them ould walls of boggarigapooka huh? it's such a mucky stinkin baga wind. Honeysap maybe the death of you Stephan...one of these daisies you'll stay runken sleepin and never wake agen! Never in a month of sun will you learn your lesson from moonshine brewers.
Spun from an Irish fairy tale about Daniel O' Rourke, collected in County Cork by Thomas Crofton Croker (1870)
Re:mixed by Fly Agaric23/Acrillic
Copyleft 21:12:2012 Fly Agaric 23
These are the thoughts which sometimes came to visit me on an evening, if i ever get that far into my search for the infinite flux of being inside the finite flux of this keyboard. I have found that on my quest the spirit knowers and so called psychics are annoying and irritating to me, what you know cannot be a part of your nature i used to shout, but after the first round of saying this i realized my own infinite regress and fall into meaninglessness. Since that time i have being constantly vigilant for any knew techniques or methods for transferring my insight about my conflict with the flux, and yet avoiding the many pitfalls and come down's associated with psychological showvanism in the western mindspace. I invented myself as a superflux hero with wings and bionic powers, but at the same time, i still had to take a shit and shower. One day i turned my critical insight upon myself and discovered a hidden garden of passionate and vibrant energy fluttering between scenes, always on the move, everchanging semi recognizable but...very interesting. She was interesting, and she was a female. I must confess what happened to me myself and i when i found out i had a women inside of me all this time, and that she had never raised her head or made a murmur until this day, the day the earth stood still, summer, and "I" came to realize myself and her relationship with the other; my other brother, our mother and great great great grandmother identity; flux.
She made me mad as a poet, mad as a street cleaning vehicle, it was a miricle how i ever found my way backto back here, into a sentence with a semi logical flow, a sentence with a release date somewhere in view, rather than a prison term called life, with no end in sight, with no new beginning possible for that very same reason. She had mistaken me from the end of the beginning and backtoback through the middle part, and onward to the beginning of the end on so many occasions that i had become, a timelessness critter of the immortal Tao. Well, that's what i call myself now in this alphabetical plot to tie a knot into form with structure wrapped around your cranium. Vibrant, beautiful well watered geranium. Tao the way everyday, everywhen, everyman, everywomen, all the time and all-at-once. Moment after moment, before before and after after, the now Tao has a timetravel function in which it can construct a future universe scenario and aim to apprehend the event. With a bit of luck i hope to apprehend Christianity with the Tao before the monotheism and ignorance of the western religio-political predator eats my own mind, or bombs to smitherines anymore whom will not swallow the godma of tyrannical nations; hell bent on acting out their favorite parts of their favorite book by their favorite author. Beware the critter of one book, and be especially aware of the reader who takes the infinite literally. Beware the Supreme sovereign farther of the divine identity. He may rape you, steel all your belongings and take advantage of you with His grand title. He may sentence you to death with a poison pen or mistake you for the villain inside His own rotten heart. Beware the monotheist and the naive realist, beware the saviour spells; question authority - and on and on like a broken looping phonograph record; and we flew to my greatest astonishment, all the way up to Lady daybookreader hershelf.
"Flyni," said the burred, "im tired after flying; get off me and sit down on the moon until i rest myself awhile. Hang onto that vadjra thunderfinn sticking out the side of the moon over there, see it?"
"No way man, i'd flail 'n fall again and that would be twice and Christ, i would be smashed to smitherrunes on the hard earth below; flat as a pancake, split like humpty O'raysiris. Djed eye would be no doubt, Deada thon a doornail."
"Not at all, Flyknee," said he; "Catch hold of that hook and hang out a while. Go on get off me now."
"i wanna go ohm for phucks sake, that's all."
"Maybe flyni, Maybe." bawled the bald hawking
"Foul bloody flirebird," i said under my breath, in a sly black kuntree-eyerash dialectical cypher, for fear he'd know wot i said. Eye got off his back with my heavy heart, took a hold of the harkhookfinn, and squatted down upon the great creamy space bub contemplating telepathic jazz; flatted seventh vamps in F#.
"Good morning to you, Flyni," said the bird, wings fanned out, picturesque, spanish, spanningish blackdrop drip slilver sun mu'n sparkle; spandanangled outerstella regions. For a brief moment i grokked the whole seal; obverse and perverse; spreadeadoggled; turning in the luce affinity between transvestcentdented stars and the familiar earthstar projection below. My precious metalmoony affinitea; stars and sterlingbling. Panspermia and panning for gold, spanning the galaxy for mold so i wos told
"I am the wings of providence and karma, here's yr/ manifest drama for taking offspring from their nest, you stole my egg's remember flick, remember those eggz you egglish tea leaf?"
"Ugly Amerikaanse eland... is this the way you serve me at last?
Mansteen! You really are a bird of pray! Faith, Il tempo e denaro. Arrrgh. Zeeduivel. U-bent devil!
(My funny babble woz no use; sounded out of context and could have been delivered with more subtle nest.) he spread out his mckarmic whigs and burst out laffin, ha ha haa flying and laughing away he flew hue huw. I sungslang after him with my candy sweet lyelabye and bellard opera, chillin on one leg he would return sun. Dolore...sorrow flippinfly away with him. Go on blues be gone. I don't want you no more.
Stuck inside another pickle jar with Dutch pekelen i cryed and zang zouten tears for fear of grief, "why me? why fli? i blurted. All at once a leak sprung in the middle of the moon, out the leak came oozing liquid mirrorstuff swirling misteamilk swurly half cream. Gooing morphwards forming pickledographs in front of me oogs; forming the old dude in the moony, eye knu im by his long lookin gray chin, and his cheesy cracked dry smile.
"Good next week to you, Flyni. Wot's up with yourshelf?"
"Book all" i harped, rather calmly considering.
"What in the world brought you out here to the moon Flee?"
So, i reeled out my tongue twisted tale; i wuss a tinkle pissed dronken on maybe tirteen grail of sealsons abyss and sun finest brew tang; slipped and fell into the river Lyfstour; swam for me lyf and then became stranded on a rehistorick islandbrushscape. I continued to wind and weave breeze through my multistory with extra luminous details and spiritual outsights aboat the snailsung i singh, and the rockthrone which i had perched upon to think, and how i lost my way in the phooken boggaclog. Eye added how the slybird of prayer promissed to fly me out of it, but instead flyhjacket me up to the big boob, while telling me all about the firebird suite and how his evileagle brother was bad, and how they were planning to flyjacket the moon very soon.
"Flyni, you must not stay here." said the loony critter
"Eye don't wanna be ere man!� you hear what i juss said? i was
kidnapped and brought here against my will by this crazy bird! yo, how am i gunner get back ohm tu buggeridge man, I know i must leave but tell me moondude...how shall i go?
"That's your bizzinesst, bee off in less than no tyme!" snapped the grumpy cheeseball. "Flyem doin no arm ere sur, only holding on fo my dear lyf by this vajrafinn ookyducky, i don't wanna fall to morto and be splatted tommatoe"
"That's what you must not do, flyni."
"im not let tin go mi hold you phoukin moonatrick. I'll be djedead wunt eye."
Without a word he pulls out a massive crooked Qcumber from hiss crack house and gives two bhangs on the sharkhandle huck which wuz oldin me up, and wallop... it split twice.
"Good morning to you Flyni," the spiteful old moonguy sez, as he watches me fall, rolling, tumbling, zwerverin clappers, runk with half a vadjra tight in my grasp, falling Luce. Again. Moksha.
"Ghod alp me" i mumbled, on my decent to the unknown, again. Must i flie to stay awake?
And no sooner had these wurds left my lips unto the air that whizzum, what should fly by my earwig but a fluck of whirled geese all the way from me ohm town boggeridge, how else could they have know me? The old gander who was their general turned his noggin and cried out to me;
"Is that you flyni?
"The samesame," said eye, not a bit fluxed at what he said for flyni was by this time experienced with bewilderment, phase, verbijstering, trickery, drunkenness, hallucination and surprise. Besides, i knew him from back in the daze before tyme. It felt like we were brothers for a moment, bonded by birth placenter hoods.
"Falling falling fallen you are, Flyni," says he
"An understate-ment your honor!"
"And where on earth are you going so fast?" said the commander gander, since i just noticed his stripes, so i unfolded to him flibagins snake charm; too much woest worden honingsap, the fall, the swim to isola rehistorica, garaj mahal, stuck in the stinking muckapucka, and the flagming struisvogel thief who flew me up to the moonmiller while ronin strange axis radio stories of his vortex woman called Dianna, snapped the kalkamandollardajra with his crooked Qcumber which was keeping me up and sent me tumbledumpty down bouwvallig; sovereign sungold coin flung dropped wishingwell. New Flesh for old.
"Flyni," said he, "I'll save your sorry ass, grab onto my legs and i'll stop you falling any further."
"Sweet, dolce is your hand in a pitcher of honigsap, my gioiello," says i, and grabbed the gander by the leg and we flew off fast as gofast with the rest of a six pack or dozen wildeyed muther flockers.
We flew and flied and volair and flown and vliger and flew till we came right over the wyde oceaan blu. "Where the phook am i going now i thought, where to? The Ocean of potion, the knu whirred Wu?
"Fly to land, if you please Sir!"
"it's impossible flyni, because you see we are flocking to Slyberrya. We all gather summer fire around June 21'st each year.
"Cyberia! that's phunkin mouths away, in some foreign slice of the world, it's gonna tek us yonkers mon, i just wanna go Ohm, please take me ohm."
"Hold your flipping tongue,"
Once more pleading for my dear lyf i pray for Amirrorcle and then, sure as war, an oil tanker boat sails into sight below, carrying stolen loot from the miggle est back to Amirickle i guess.
"Can you just drop me off here on the oil tanker Gandhi mate?" i asked.
"if you must, you must. I think you have mist it though...there you go...take your own way. And don't call me gandhi again flyni. All right,"
With that he opened his claw, dropping me down to the blackpirate tinkertanker below.
Sure as day i missed the boat and came down sploshington into illicHcilli oceanpond, sinking down through the churning asparagus broth schimen, down, deep downgreen emerald, falling lucifer mossrocks, eye gave up on myself then forevergreen, when, out of the ruddy hulk warter a porpoise came swamming right close up to me, right up close enough to kiss me, and i think i might while she's skratchin her blow hole and stretching her finns out after a good nights sleep i bet, yeah, she looked me full in the face with some Hunab ku looks and never a word of English she did say, thank goodness, but, lifting up her tail, she splashed me all over again with cold salt water, the wet stuff, not the words here; until there wore a dry stitch upon my boggysoggy carcass.
I remembered the firebird and how he vivisected my mind without word with pickledgraffs, i was beginning to receive signals from the dopefinn about spacetimespace and outermindbrainplace things and holographic thoughtfacetime stuff, then i heard a distinctive angel's voice, slightly pissed in the murky distance; a voice and tone i mecognized.
"Wake up stephan you lazy phuka!"
There she was - a man eater, splashing agua all over me hip hop stunkin carcuss, my beautiful wyf had metamorphosed from mermaid into bullhound half human alarm clock. I was ringing wet.
"Get up, stand up!"
"Why do you lye under them ould walls of boggarigapooka huh? it's such a mucky stinkin baga wind. Honeysap maybe the death of you Stephan...one of these daisies you'll stay runken sleepin and never wake agen! Never in a month of sun will you learn your lesson from moonshine brewers.
Spun from an Irish fairy tale about Daniel O' Rourke, collected in County Cork by Thomas Crofton Croker (1870)
Re:mixed by Fly Agaric23/Acrillic
Copyleft 21:12:2012 Fly Agaric 23
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
COPENHAGAN BIG OIL SUMMIT
“Us clams must stick apart” –Feudal Baron Periwinkle III.
Aphrodite rose from sea foam in film. Merry Mermaid & love goddess surfinn her scallop chariot through twisted arms of godsoilmen and sludge. She has risen to meet the supermajors to balance scales and dance to the finnance seers circe song. Gulf scoop. Venus Arise! Awake. Hail Eris! Drink snail wine and toast to King scallop, loops. Sail up Botticelli’s shell birth canal, known by cockle, hat and staff, Cruz’ past oily Slick Cheney news. We roe under the sign, past energy task force positions. The Galloping Scallop clad man of greek myth. The Knights bejewelled in clam lips and kisses. Rich blue Oil spill or mother of pearl? Like blended parrots and dead plankton, mixed emulsions. Beautiful Miss. Oil Spill?
Crude awakening to the spill-age. A Collosal squid princess riding old Jakobsschelp to help a Hutch load of old scallops rise out the Seafloor Blues. Deep sea things speak! Lo! Scallops of the ocean down by the great rising Chiefs. Take Big Periwinkle into your earshell. Smell the sign, touch the symbol, has it got ridges? Dreams cast to sea to see in a Venus shell in a mother of pearl breast. Dead Plankton in the paint painted on Saints of the swamp. And the city sewers flow. Heed the clam of commerce and the cockle-shock shimmy. A shell of transfusion, what sea-shell sign symbol confusion. Emerging on a horse covered in Scallops? Yes, Prince Periwinkle gallops-up stream like Salmon. Skullops for one shelling a dollop. Sea wave-wind Mussels flex into fossils. Oh, more yet, invisible smell of oilamp from the limpet. The Penis of Mr. Big Periwinkle is swelling, a telling sign of the times. Lets Oil the Oystery of Oil, and stir with a staff, lets foil Big sharks, get shocked, struck coil! Row roe with the Tide Swell batter and salt. Swim with the titanic Sementic shift, up out the shell, again, to tell a snail tale of the planetary shaft.
Son’s of Thunder Juice, Snel, quick up to defend the word. A sea slug with untold feet, runs with you. Hoily Tools of the Big Petrol scoop and scope scheme, wallops the marine scene with unclean oil sheen. Another spellage. Ocean deep n' blue, packed full of shell-rooms, true teachers of petrochem generation X. Drill here. Rise up like foam, Alexthunder Oil the Shah Cockle and the unseen shellhand scoop, arise fortuna. Waxy Parrot Snot in the sea banks, how to dress up a death spill? Casting Shells - The wavy lines trace swellmighty calm. His Loch' Holiness the Buddhaclam Caliph of Pearl of the Santiago Shell mound gate tell us, what fate? Great clam emperor of the Mollusca lineage, Big Up your shelf. By nature the sign, 500 Million years of geometry spun, sings in holy brine water, the Duke Periwinkle Clam tissue of ivory Sheen? Look down the well. Oily DEA and ivory salt newspaper scalps litter our vessel, truth and beauty from underwater vents, meanwhile oilmen pollute the ocean-Green with sculpted Pipe lines, crime waves of DEA projects, No Oildea how sticky their handshells.
To the Great Old One's, please hear us and help a sign-sailor resist a supermajor temptress, blackmailing a redesign. Each cell on the Shell glitters and does not glisten. Clamco on our sex organs. Oil spill, pipe-line, spoil, Usury, coercion, interference with the flow. Oyster Gods of ancient oceans sculpt the wave and weave pearls for serpents teeth to sew. WWII elixir prohibition, in the name of thy snakeoil potions, Rise, Oh. Sea-meat wonders with one hundred eyes that dwell upon Old heraldic shields, Rise up like bubbles and show us your shape. If only Molluscs could grow wings? Dutch English American statistics, more scallops? Roam the ocean wide with the Sigil of Galloping shells tells a whale of a trial of a clam, with snapping hinge teeth. Big Blood and loot (bleep) swinging from the Scallops pole, I and Shelly, and our Seal: Koninklijk. A Toast to Scallops and the food of Godzilla, and the marvel of Clam propulsion.
Venus come surfing on a scallop, leading with a shell in hat and staff in hand. Scholar. Mussel Swimming down Saint James's glory-gate to stealth Oil Cow & coo. Scoop it. And the church Redlips TTOTTAL Informollusc. Sculp. Crude awakening. Cockoily and Crude Millions scalloped out of the earth's. Intimidated pilgrims raise a Church shoal. To the Botticelli Shell-mex, mix, to the - Supermajor – noGods’ and the shall he, Shall he not trotter. Heart of calcite, home of crystal. Toil to swim with the ASA Esso sponsors. Pick a Shell and drink James Juice. The sacred periwinkle proportions, now sea gold. Periwinkle Cockle and aragonite Shillyshellying, on land we're all out of gas? Gaia Scalp flaking, dry rot and sun burn, Crashing oil and Blood in similar waves, Half-mollusc, half man with a vulva Cuthulu cult riding a Periwinkle to shore, to soil on past British Patrolingmen. Deep Rejoice – Skol - of the sea leagues 93’000 species of Mollusc, calcium from sea, Saint James Juice “No thankyou.” Oh, resurrecting Periwinkle is forbidden? Greenwash be damned, HOLY Scollop of truth Swim on your way! Oh, Mollusc gas around pilgrims Hands. Scooping the word. Praise the Count of cockles who calculates the calcium content. Re-shore em’ that Oystery has Pearls. Barons to protect the crust. Don't drill, hear! The silver pink flesh remaining of ocean Sheild. What pearls lie in the sign. Schaaldrake Unreeled from the Well, winds blowing above the abyss of humanity.
A clamber of underwater James shimmer “What the devil’s covering you, old directors?” The Hat clamp too. Holy floor, must be peak oil time! Shall we use our gills to push? Praise oceans Brand waves. The fisherman on fire, Oil brigade, fire brigade. What Sustenance? Entangled oil pipline artery of earth rot? Well well well, Oil be damned! eyel. The stolen dead plankton. The dead seamen-oil-blood transfusion. The Tectonic shifts and shafts. Swallow the shilly-shally sea and go a’ rumaging. A mussel bound wisdom tongue in a Dutch pit. Venus in shell, that feminine Scallop. Beware the starfish and oystercatchers and Condi Rice. Our boat enters the earshells of Leviathon. Seers are feeding, so meditate on bivalvia underground and grow new ears. Total germs. Sea worms fight back. Please dive off the Euro board and Rejoice for James Juice. Hoily Houses Haunt Oystery sauce. The currents of Oysery in the Musselmen’s. How to Oil the machine and then stir, sir?
Scallop filtration of nature Mouth pit. Hermaphrodite Samuel of the black-gold waters. Global eyes of the oceanic gleam where Ibskal speak of sea diamonds, pearls and disturb the Calm mud. Look Deep, look well , lick the James Juice-oil, drink the poison and ride the snake to the pit of Saint DEA, to planet Exo-Clamboil. Elders send word of hope, inducing Amanita Mollusca. Sometides wash nutrients up Ripples of the great allrudy wish-ways prepear’d with proportions of Baron periwinkles dimples. Chevrollop, clamswallop, wham. Big Shh’ galaxy, in silence. And inside the noble clam chamber Mr. Mussel finds shelter from transfusions and Cockledoom on a dinner plate. Oh shil, you supermajor logo shystirs. Rumble of waves around scalloped edge - where Venus teleports - to visit ecstatic ten-thousand. And Brand new standards, drink the ocean ink of clam soup. Ingest the Hoily Ocean Extracts from the me-a-ning Well, it's all for the best. Wade through the bauxite, don’t step on our eggshares show foresight. Juice the wellwell markets, be merry, speak into these eggshawls. Schelp, I need some clammy mammy? Muscle and sperm of capitol, testoss and hydrocarbons, Thankyou, the pearls really shine. 500 Million years of Scallop evolution sculpted from chalk with tyme.
Real Crotch Oil spread and royal Roe Smoothie. The synchro-swimming around the OVA, mixing a schaal alliance. Pink into the black current. Shellfish swim for ecosystem and it’s edges. The taste and Zap, filtering compost on sea-bed, the underwater awakening, like Fungus, the Clam infiltrates the swill. Heaven and Hell, the birth of Lucifer von Periwinkle and his Kingdom Oilmen! Lo, the chatter and Swell, the Venus and the Vulva. Marian’s Well. Like a Mermaid's, always moist. Master of devices and of painted Green weeds. Grow. A Pilgrim Artefact slyjacked. Marian! Murmur and maid, with comb and mirror, homeless, Comb exchanged for a clam-pick to pluck Lyre songs. Merry tinkles of shells and deep-blues for heads. Oh yeah, to schell the proof to buy the truth. Sea Red and sigil read. Michelle, and her pink mantle. Swimming with our vows to explore the edges of the Sun. Elixir of Baron Periwinkle makes a tasty tipple. A tale maybe a virus. Vile us! With a treacherous hijacked Scallop - snapping - at your toe, out to out brand Oil. Way out. Respect the Hoily mollusc of Saint James. These Claims of holy clams clamp down on Baron Periwinkle’s clump, so Dive down and pry benearth. The Venus Mermaiden has risen from the sea to show you her she-sails.
Aphrodite rose from sea foam in film. Merry Mermaid & love goddess surfinn her scallop chariot through twisted arms of godsoilmen and sludge. She has risen to meet the supermajors to balance scales and dance to the finnance seers circe song. Gulf scoop. Venus Arise! Awake. Hail Eris! Drink snail wine and toast to King scallop, loops. Sail up Botticelli’s shell birth canal, known by cockle, hat and staff, Cruz’ past oily Slick Cheney news. We roe under the sign, past energy task force positions. The Galloping Scallop clad man of greek myth. The Knights bejewelled in clam lips and kisses. Rich blue Oil spill or mother of pearl? Like blended parrots and dead plankton, mixed emulsions. Beautiful Miss. Oil Spill?
Crude awakening to the spill-age. A Collosal squid princess riding old Jakobsschelp to help a Hutch load of old scallops rise out the Seafloor Blues. Deep sea things speak! Lo! Scallops of the ocean down by the great rising Chiefs. Take Big Periwinkle into your earshell. Smell the sign, touch the symbol, has it got ridges? Dreams cast to sea to see in a Venus shell in a mother of pearl breast. Dead Plankton in the paint painted on Saints of the swamp. And the city sewers flow. Heed the clam of commerce and the cockle-shock shimmy. A shell of transfusion, what sea-shell sign symbol confusion. Emerging on a horse covered in Scallops? Yes, Prince Periwinkle gallops-up stream like Salmon. Skullops for one shelling a dollop. Sea wave-wind Mussels flex into fossils. Oh, more yet, invisible smell of oilamp from the limpet. The Penis of Mr. Big Periwinkle is swelling, a telling sign of the times. Lets Oil the Oystery of Oil, and stir with a staff, lets foil Big sharks, get shocked, struck coil! Row roe with the Tide Swell batter and salt. Swim with the titanic Sementic shift, up out the shell, again, to tell a snail tale of the planetary shaft.
Son’s of Thunder Juice, Snel, quick up to defend the word. A sea slug with untold feet, runs with you. Hoily Tools of the Big Petrol scoop and scope scheme, wallops the marine scene with unclean oil sheen. Another spellage. Ocean deep n' blue, packed full of shell-rooms, true teachers of petrochem generation X. Drill here. Rise up like foam, Alexthunder Oil the Shah Cockle and the unseen shellhand scoop, arise fortuna. Waxy Parrot Snot in the sea banks, how to dress up a death spill? Casting Shells - The wavy lines trace swellmighty calm. His Loch' Holiness the Buddhaclam Caliph of Pearl of the Santiago Shell mound gate tell us, what fate? Great clam emperor of the Mollusca lineage, Big Up your shelf. By nature the sign, 500 Million years of geometry spun, sings in holy brine water, the Duke Periwinkle Clam tissue of ivory Sheen? Look down the well. Oily DEA and ivory salt newspaper scalps litter our vessel, truth and beauty from underwater vents, meanwhile oilmen pollute the ocean-Green with sculpted Pipe lines, crime waves of DEA projects, No Oildea how sticky their handshells.
To the Great Old One's, please hear us and help a sign-sailor resist a supermajor temptress, blackmailing a redesign. Each cell on the Shell glitters and does not glisten. Clamco on our sex organs. Oil spill, pipe-line, spoil, Usury, coercion, interference with the flow. Oyster Gods of ancient oceans sculpt the wave and weave pearls for serpents teeth to sew. WWII elixir prohibition, in the name of thy snakeoil potions, Rise, Oh. Sea-meat wonders with one hundred eyes that dwell upon Old heraldic shields, Rise up like bubbles and show us your shape. If only Molluscs could grow wings? Dutch English American statistics, more scallops? Roam the ocean wide with the Sigil of Galloping shells tells a whale of a trial of a clam, with snapping hinge teeth. Big Blood and loot (bleep) swinging from the Scallops pole, I and Shelly, and our Seal: Koninklijk. A Toast to Scallops and the food of Godzilla, and the marvel of Clam propulsion.
Venus come surfing on a scallop, leading with a shell in hat and staff in hand. Scholar. Mussel Swimming down Saint James's glory-gate to stealth Oil Cow & coo. Scoop it. And the church Redlips TTOTTAL Informollusc. Sculp. Crude awakening. Cockoily and Crude Millions scalloped out of the earth's. Intimidated pilgrims raise a Church shoal. To the Botticelli Shell-mex, mix, to the - Supermajor – noGods’ and the shall he, Shall he not trotter. Heart of calcite, home of crystal. Toil to swim with the ASA Esso sponsors. Pick a Shell and drink James Juice. The sacred periwinkle proportions, now sea gold. Periwinkle Cockle and aragonite Shillyshellying, on land we're all out of gas? Gaia Scalp flaking, dry rot and sun burn, Crashing oil and Blood in similar waves, Half-mollusc, half man with a vulva Cuthulu cult riding a Periwinkle to shore, to soil on past British Patrolingmen. Deep Rejoice – Skol - of the sea leagues 93’000 species of Mollusc, calcium from sea, Saint James Juice “No thankyou.” Oh, resurrecting Periwinkle is forbidden? Greenwash be damned, HOLY Scollop of truth Swim on your way! Oh, Mollusc gas around pilgrims Hands. Scooping the word. Praise the Count of cockles who calculates the calcium content. Re-shore em’ that Oystery has Pearls. Barons to protect the crust. Don't drill, hear! The silver pink flesh remaining of ocean Sheild. What pearls lie in the sign. Schaaldrake Unreeled from the Well, winds blowing above the abyss of humanity.
A clamber of underwater James shimmer “What the devil’s covering you, old directors?” The Hat clamp too. Holy floor, must be peak oil time! Shall we use our gills to push? Praise oceans Brand waves. The fisherman on fire, Oil brigade, fire brigade. What Sustenance? Entangled oil pipline artery of earth rot? Well well well, Oil be damned! eyel. The stolen dead plankton. The dead seamen-oil-blood transfusion. The Tectonic shifts and shafts. Swallow the shilly-shally sea and go a’ rumaging. A mussel bound wisdom tongue in a Dutch pit. Venus in shell, that feminine Scallop. Beware the starfish and oystercatchers and Condi Rice. Our boat enters the earshells of Leviathon. Seers are feeding, so meditate on bivalvia underground and grow new ears. Total germs. Sea worms fight back. Please dive off the Euro board and Rejoice for James Juice. Hoily Houses Haunt Oystery sauce. The currents of Oysery in the Musselmen’s. How to Oil the machine and then stir, sir?
Scallop filtration of nature Mouth pit. Hermaphrodite Samuel of the black-gold waters. Global eyes of the oceanic gleam where Ibskal speak of sea diamonds, pearls and disturb the Calm mud. Look Deep, look well , lick the James Juice-oil, drink the poison and ride the snake to the pit of Saint DEA, to planet Exo-Clamboil. Elders send word of hope, inducing Amanita Mollusca. Sometides wash nutrients up Ripples of the great allrudy wish-ways prepear’d with proportions of Baron periwinkles dimples. Chevrollop, clamswallop, wham. Big Shh’ galaxy, in silence. And inside the noble clam chamber Mr. Mussel finds shelter from transfusions and Cockledoom on a dinner plate. Oh shil, you supermajor logo shystirs. Rumble of waves around scalloped edge - where Venus teleports - to visit ecstatic ten-thousand. And Brand new standards, drink the ocean ink of clam soup. Ingest the Hoily Ocean Extracts from the me-a-ning Well, it's all for the best. Wade through the bauxite, don’t step on our eggshares show foresight. Juice the wellwell markets, be merry, speak into these eggshawls. Schelp, I need some clammy mammy? Muscle and sperm of capitol, testoss and hydrocarbons, Thankyou, the pearls really shine. 500 Million years of Scallop evolution sculpted from chalk with tyme.
Real Crotch Oil spread and royal Roe Smoothie. The synchro-swimming around the OVA, mixing a schaal alliance. Pink into the black current. Shellfish swim for ecosystem and it’s edges. The taste and Zap, filtering compost on sea-bed, the underwater awakening, like Fungus, the Clam infiltrates the swill. Heaven and Hell, the birth of Lucifer von Periwinkle and his Kingdom Oilmen! Lo, the chatter and Swell, the Venus and the Vulva. Marian’s Well. Like a Mermaid's, always moist. Master of devices and of painted Green weeds. Grow. A Pilgrim Artefact slyjacked. Marian! Murmur and maid, with comb and mirror, homeless, Comb exchanged for a clam-pick to pluck Lyre songs. Merry tinkles of shells and deep-blues for heads. Oh yeah, to schell the proof to buy the truth. Sea Red and sigil read. Michelle, and her pink mantle. Swimming with our vows to explore the edges of the Sun. Elixir of Baron Periwinkle makes a tasty tipple. A tale maybe a virus. Vile us! With a treacherous hijacked Scallop - snapping - at your toe, out to out brand Oil. Way out. Respect the Hoily mollusc of Saint James. These Claims of holy clams clamp down on Baron Periwinkle’s clump, so Dive down and pry benearth. The Venus Mermaiden has risen from the sea to show you her she-sails.
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