Thursday, June 9, 2011

The Intellect Of Idiocy

Blog post # 197:
(197 = a prime.)

Just two pictures today.

Differing From Lateralism

Illusion Maligned


Crappy science-based anagrams:

Geometries seem.
Ergo, time sees me.


Existence ceases.
Ex-science teases.


If you 'stoop' to your 'id',
you're 'stoop-id', of course.


Here's something really dumb:

If you remember denominators, then you have...

Argg, jokes about numbers are...

(I think I already shared that one with you...)


I am stuck in a maze...

The difficult-to-discover ending to a maze would be its...

(Not really a joke, just something to ponder.)


Written yesterday and today.
(These poems aren't really that good. But I felt this blog was in need of some poetry anyway.)

Halves Of Differing Ellipsoids

These two halves of
differing ellipsoids are distant
Upon their undersides and are
adjacent upon zeniths.
They intervene within their
segmentation and interweave
Amongst their smoothness.
And between them, inside
An angled gap, the droplet is
a spike, and it
Flows downwardly from
that attachment. Oh, yet
Another such droplet overlaps
the right semi-ellipsoid.
But it is not quite differing,
unlike the other.

There beneath, the waves
of colorful strands ascend
And fall and lapse unto
their lateralism. These
Tangential substances embellish
Imperfection's items above.
However, that fluid is differing
only from itself.
And it encounters not those
hemi-ellipsoids oblate.
But it superimposes unto them
and conjoins with them
And then is massive.
Then the chaos of all truth
Is differing from its
own rendering, from
Its halving cut trapezoidally
and so refuted.


Faulty Clumping

An ellipse flatly vertical,
a hateful spike flung,
A wisp afloat rightward
-- they each connect
Within this progression of three.
But such a
Configuration is unjust;
And still it is our forgetting.
Yes, we are also ignorant
of our own matter,
Of our own stupidity
aligned against these
Tripled dimensions formed.
And the triad of
Flaps, it is divined upon
its algorithm, quite.
Yet it is depleted of truth
and is denied
Via its scattering.
Yes, it is strung into
The suffering of our
mental containment;
Although, it is
outstretched and oddly so.
But our thoughts are
only phrased by this
Metronome redeemed
with such human illusion.
Ah, our flaps are but flags
and are not slabs.
They are only the
narcissism of our nationalism
And of our faulty clumping
we did malign.



1 comment:

Psycho Babbling Basher said...

Damn you're deep!
I am still reeling in my head to wrap my limited intellect around these. ;)