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After Nazì Germany.

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  • After Nazì Germany.

    Germane, his horse ride
    over bloody plains and meadows, the buckler on his side;
    His thieves settled on each side,
    the truth of the Big Lie.

    While alone the lie is huge, even if
    the two do not agree,
    Jesus
    makes
    them.

    Posed
    from
    quests:

    Do we understand
    Hitler
    and his blood sucked hole
    he was thrown into?...
    Or Jesus,
    Jesus,
    Do you believe
    they can be saved?--
    For, I do not.

    After all this time, they
    unacknowledged, they
    are afraid, unable to, they
    Lie against Truth. They
    worry about Truth, they
    cannot ever see the face, they
    bless themselves not, they
    work on the Sabbath, they
    worry about the way they appear, they
    See not. They wish, and what they
    get is that exaction. Pale horse they
    ride unto moorish sunset, they
    drift to poles in Eastern Sun. They
    Run to Sex, religion, violence, they
    smile to be fucked, wide-eyed they
    get fucked. Wonder why, they
    do, sometimes, worry God, No, they
    Brainwash for Sin, and miss, expecting they
    Are the arbiters of untrue truth, they
    seep to seethe in seals, and chew on, they
    Wrongly accuse God of not being, they
    Reap.

    As the Eastern Sun Rises and sets at once.

    No more No more No more,

    Lying Slaves.

    ​​​

  • #2
    This is written with conviction and i found myself nodding. There is so much hubris in how we regard ouselves yet I have to say although I recognise it it is not my world mine is a little less bleak.

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    • #3
      'Tis merely one perspective. I will show you the -good- one...

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      • #4
        --•|¦] ||] ||)· Jesus Christ Arise

        Area sq. Lil' vacant basement. Top torpidity. Mauve sunset, tomorrow morn. Lake of icy leaves, sticks scudding across surface, the feet, the foot. Walking on Air Again, are you? Sabbath. Eloi, eloi, yama Sabachthani- Hirsute, and vague. Rant in X. Colorful Shirt, naked baby ...
        blue egg of white bird, white egg, no bird.
        Red mucus torrential. Down the landed bird starts to :g'henk. Love in commiseration. Father in love with Mother. my father my mother. Tall enough to hit head on moon. Taller than Cloud. White, blau. Forest Forbidden. Toxicos. One forest inside another.
        My lover, Andræ. Hir own lovestruck sentience, her own temple. Short hair, word cut. His and Her Tempo, beneath dream of waters. Beneath both, the landed water, sticky itchy weed. Falling on Grass.

        The ironic thing here is that the jews invented the Somersault. Fuckin hilarious, really.

        Vagrant espionage. Sentimentos. Frozen mud, bull frog spot, and green algae tongue, kitten to kite to fly to caught. Reptile, or amphibian; insect or bi-ped. Ungulate, or mother or son. Little woman from girl, to fat and to fat and to fat. Nigredo, of course, being that it always darkens. Aibeto. Whyteneinges. Lil' gurl over handle bar, bike that cries, Ride.
        Loss of Soul_

        Resurrectiø.

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        • #5
          Pale horse they
          ride unto moorish sunset, they
          drift to poles in Eastern Sun.

          This cuts deep, in all the right ways!
          The truth, unvarnished.

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